#saying little and rosi is 9 feet tall

[deimosatellite]

actually can i have more of these little blonde bitches

[ravenrose18]

My Personal Savior

Chapter 9- Alexandra

Negan took a glance over to her before his eyes went on the road again, his smile finally returning to his face. "Good, and as far as I can tell, I've told you everything.." He explained. He sat in complete silence for a brief moment, the only sound being the hiss of the tires as they drove over the asphalt that was still damp with dew. Eventually, he spoke up once again as an idea popped into his head. "There is one more thing I can think of. I'm pretty sure I might have said already, but I've made a deal with Rick and a few other communities. Fifty percent of their crap goes to me each week, in return, I offer them protection. Aside from that, nothing else." He chuckled to himself a minute later, shaking his head a little bit. "Damn, I sound like a broken record. Rick, Rick, Rick.. I bet his ear is about to burn off of his head right about now." Raven looks at him smiles softly and shakes her head "Let's just get there Negan hearing bout Rick is annoying he must be a prick if you're so obsessed with him you used to be obsessed with Lucille or now I should say your wives. But I'll just let it at that I'm not going to get into it I don't want to get in a fight or get pissed again. But don't forget bout what I want to do when we get to Alexandria okay?" She says wanting to make sure he remembers what they discussed earlier.

Negan grinned in return. "Okay, Princess, I'll stop griping on about my grudges. And you can speak to Dixon soon, I just need to talk with Rick a little first. Remember, I'm going to be standing there with you, making sure our crazy, little friend is on his best behavior." He responded. The brake lights of the car in front of him flashed twice before it began to slow down. Negan too eased his foot off of the gas pedal, driving at a slower speed. Not even a minute later, the towering, rusting, tin-covered walls of Alexandria came into view. The walls were huge, maybe even sixty feet tall. Some places stood even taller. There were cars covered in spikes parked on each corner of the front gate, possibly as some kind of tactic to threaten outsiders or to prevent walkers. Either way, that didn't deter Negan and his Saviors. Eventually, every bike, car, and truck came to a halt outside of the walls, their engines shutting off one after another until there was silence in the air. Negan took the keys from the ignition and slipped them into the chest pocket on his jacket, before turning his gaze over to her. "Well, Rosie, you ready for your first supply run?"

Raven looks at him and smirks "Well, Smith this isn't my first supply run since you know I was on my finding supplies for myself, but I know what you meant." She says as she puts her hand on his cheek and softly pats it, feeling his skin and that prickly beard of his seeing how he has a salt and peppered beard that looks very good on him. "You know you always look great with a beard, and now that it's salt and pepper, it's even better looking." She says smiling looking into his eyes. She wants to kiss him but they will never be together even with all that he has he wouldn't need her. Negan smiled in return, his gaze on her. He gently placed his hand upon hers, the skin on his palms was coarse from the callouses he received from swinging the bat. Upon the compliment, he chuckled softly, closing his eyes before opening them again after a brief moment. "Well, if the beard's such a hit, then maybe I won't shave it off." His brown eyes locked with her blue, for a moment forgetting what he was doing prior.

However, it didn't take long for the static from the walkie to snap him out of his daze as Simon spoke, "All systems are a go, just waiting on you, Bossman." With that, Negan let go of her hand, before gently moving away. Raven blushes and smiles, feeling his hand on her and how he stares back into her eyes. She was feeling so much love for him at that moment but she knew she couldn't have him. Her smile softened when he let go of her hand as she moved away gently. "I guess it's showtime then Mr boss Man." She says as she reaches for the door handle and grabs her crossbow and looks out the window up at the gate she looks at how big the gate and fences are they must never have to deal with walkers at all. She takes a deep breath not knowing how Daryl will react to seeing her or if he will recognize her after all these years.

"Guess so." He smiled a little more, before grabbing Lucille from the floorboard. He reached for the door handle, pulling it, before pushing the heavy door open and stepping out onto the asphalt. He slammed the door behind him, not out of anger but just so the door would shut properly. Negan's brown eyes scanned their surroundings, his gaze momentarily lingering upon all of the Saviors that had already loaded out of the trucks. Daryl too was amongst them, Dwight standing in front of him to block his chances of trying to run. After giving Lucille a few twirls, Negan sauntered up to the gates, his lips slightly pursed as he began whistling a few notes of a tune. It wasn't his usual one, but something else. As he took a few more steps closer, a muttered "Dun dun dun dun," escaped his lips in the rhythm of Beethoven's Fifth Symphony. Lucille collided with a bar on the gate a few times in a knocking manner, the metal loudly clanking as the wood met its mark. Once the ringing had decimated, Negan opened his mouth to speak, "Little pig, little pig! Let. Me. In." He called out, in a taunting manner, a chuckle escaping his mouth as he awaited someone to approach from the other side.

Meanwhile, Daryl's eyes traced over the group of people around him, his gaze alone being enough to tell he was on edge. He shifted his feet around a little, the desire to flee into the nearby woods almost overbearing but he stayed put. He knew even he probably wouldn't get far being unarmed and surrounded by all these people. Raven gets out of the truck holding her crossbow in her hands as she looks around she sees Dwight and then she leans a bit to get a glimpse of Daryl sighs and walks towards Negan staying behind him she looks up at the gate and wonders who would open the gate if it might be this Rick Prick that Negan been talking bout she keeps her guard up even though Negan said nobody will hurt her or try anything especially if they are here at Alexandria. "Are you sure anybody is home, Negan?" She asks, smirking and putting her crossbow on her back so everyone knows she is armed even negan's men

Negan turned to look at her, his grin becoming a little brighter. He had just opened his mouth to speak but never got the chance as the rattling sound of metal cut through the air. The canvas-covered, chainlink fence on the other side began to move as someone pushed it out of the way to see who was on the other side. Negan met eyes with him, slightly disappointed as he realized that it wasn't Rick himself. Instead, it was a young guy with short wavy hair and a stubble beard. Negan stared the guy in the eyes, his fingers impatiently tapping upon Lucille's handle. "Well?" The man, Spencer, glanced at Negan before his eyes briefly trailed over to look at the large group of men he had standing behind him. Spencer's gaze eventually went back to Negan as he spoke up. "Umm. Who are you?"

Negan leaned back a little, his smirk growing slightly. "Oh, you better be joking. Negan, Lucille," He lifted the bat to display her as he said her name, before continuing to speak, "I know I had to make a pretty strong first impression." Spencer didn't say another word, just studying him and his group, but Negan was no longer interested in speaking with him as he noticed another man approaching. This man had his curly brown hair cut short, his beard owning a lot of grey. His eyes held the weight of both hatred and pain. Rick. Negan's grin widened, showing his teeth. Finally, the man he had been hoping to see. "Well, hello there... Do not make me have to ask." He spoke, his gravely voice expressing hostility upon the last sentence, his face growing more serious. A woman had also joined the two men now, but Negan didn't pay her any mind. He saw the man he wanted to see, and that's all he cared about.

Finally, Rick spoke, his calloused hands grabbing onto the gate's metal bars as he began to push it open. "You said a week. You're early." He grumbled, his southern accent audible as he spoke. Negan smiled once more, moving his head a little to the side, "I missed ya." He teased. Raven stares at Rick and then looks at Negan she crosses her arms as she watches their interaction she stands beside and a little behind Negan. "So this is the guy who gave you trouble wow. I was except something different, to be honest with you Negan. But yeah he looks like a prick shall we get a tour of the place Negan or straight to business?" She asks Negan as she tilts her head leaning forward coming into his view. She can't wait to see what's going on here but she still needs to talk to Daryl she may think Rick is a prick but she still wants to help and try to stop this she doubts she will be able to but she can try at least. While Negan was talking just hearing his voice made her feel different it made her heart race hearing how his voice can get when he's being hostile towards Rick.

"Yes, it is." He responded his eyes still on Rick, before looking over at her as she moved more into view. "Exactly what was going through my mind that night. I thought it would have been that ginger who I bashed the brains out of, but nope! Just some cowboy from Georgia who likes to play sheriff.." He spoke, his eyes trailing back over to Rick, who now owned a look of remorse after Negan spoke of the man he had killed. "You know, Rose, I think that's a great idea. So, Ricky, how about we get a grand tour? I wanna see the cozy little community you've been running for me." Negan spoke, his grin widening. Rick, wary but compliant, turned away from them, beginning to walk back into the community, Negan and his men following in tow.

As they walked along the paved road, they were met by a scene that seemed mundane in a time like this. Two-story homes lined the road as far as the eye could see, their coats of paint kept fresh and pristine. A large lake was dug in the middle of the town, its rippling waters breaking as a fish leaped up on occasion. Gardens bloomed with life, the stalks and leaves a dark green from fertilizer. Five giant solar panels were in an area where they'd get the most sun, which was most likely the power source for all of the homes. The sound of children playing could be heard in the distance, but the more they walked, the sound grew silent. The people of the community either hid in their homes, peeking out from behind their curtains and blinds or gathered in the streets to see what the fuss was about. Negan's grin widened as he looked at it all, his eyes holding a hint of envy. It was like stepping back in time before the whole mess. "Hot diggity dog. This place is magnificent." Negan announced, outstretching his arms for a moment before letting them drop back to his sides.

Raven walks behind him and looks around the place in amazement "Whoa what the fuck I thought I never see a neighborhood still intact like this wow. This place is magnificent. They must have running hot water here Negan if this place looks like this they must have running hot water. Negan I wish I grew up in a house like this." She says as she keeps to Negan's side as she sees a lot of people here she hopes nobody dies especially not the children. "Negan? Do you hurt or kill women and children?" She asks softly as she's next to him. She felt like she needed to make sure of this. She needed to make sure that nothing went wrong here while she was here, but if it did, she couldn't do anything bout it. Negan chuckles as he listens to her. It was as if she was speaking every single thing that crossed his mind. This place was amazing, and if it had the room, he'd move the people from the sanctuary into here. Upon the mention of hot water, his brows lifted a bit. If they did, then he really would be jealous. Upon her question, his smile faded a little. He stopped in his tracks, turning his attention to look at her. Rick, hearing the footsteps come to an abrupt stop, he too stopped in place, turning his head a little to look, curious of the hold-up. "Hell no. Sure, I've done some pretty messed up shit, but even I have standards. You don't think I'd do that, right?" His expression, although mostly calm, held a hint of hurt in his eyes.

Raven looks at him and then looks down shaking her head "No of course not Negan I just thought I asked. I'll let you do what you need to so we can get this over with and get back home. But remember what we were talking about okay? So go ahead and get the supplies and talk to Rick. And I need to make sure I talk with someone too." She says glancing back at Daryl and then back at Negan. She didn't think he ever hurt kids or women but she had to ask since she doesn't know what he has done other than, what he has done that he has told her. She felt better knowing he had never killed women or children. Negan relaxed, before beginning to walk once more. Rick began to move as well, continuing to lead them through the place. Although she said she believed him, he still felt a little hurt by her question. She didn't think of him as a blood-thirsty monster, did she? Of course, he couldn't exactly blame her if she did. Especially after all of the people he's brutally killed, or sticking hot irons to people's faces. As she spoke, he was pulled out of his thoughts, taking a glance over to her, "Don't worry, while things are getting loaded up, you can speak with Mr. Resting-Bitch-Face back there." He promised.

Raven looks up at him smiles softly and nods "Oh thank you Negan I appreciate you letting me talk to him and I'm sorry I asked you those questions I don't think you ever hurt kids or women and I still trust you and staying by your side during this okay? You're not a monster, okay? You are trying to show you don't fuck around or that you're trying to save and protect your people." She says she wants to grab his hand or arm or even caress his cheek but she doesn't want to do that in front of his men or anybody else she rather actions be done in private. Negan returned the smile, continuing to walk the path. "You're welcome, sweetheart, and all's forgiven." He felt a little better upon her apology, beginning to relax. Upon her saying he wasn't a monster, it caught him a little off-guard, his stride slowing for a couple of steps before he went back to his regular pace. He would have stopped dead in his tracks like before to make eye contact with her, but he didn't want to hold everyone up again. His smile brightened on his lips, as he finally relaxed completely. "Well, I'm glad somebody finally gets the memo. Not everyone does." He spoke, his eyes trailing to Rick.

When Rick heard what she said, his expression filled with disgust and hatred. Hearing her say that almost made him sick. He still remembered that night. He was forced onto his knees on a cold Virginia night, watching his friends' brains oozing on gravel, their blood spattering onto his face. The screams of Glenn's pregnant wife as she had to watch her husband be beaten to death. In Rick's eyes, Negan was evil incarnate, but he was helpless to do anything. Raven looks over at Rick and glares crosses her arms over her chest and shakes her head. "Somebody has to know what makes fucking sense in this fucked up world we have to do what we have to survive and protect our people. Let's get on with the tour and get these supplies collected I don't need to get dirty looks from some prick who is losing his shit and causing his people to get hurt or killed." She says she smirks knowing she has to be confident in what she says and her body language needs to show as well. She doesn't care what Rick does as long as he doesn't fucking do anything to Negan or herself.

Negan looked at her, his smile brightening. It was like he had a female version of him standing right there, speaking what was crossing his mind. "Well, shit. Would you listen to that, Rick? She's only known you for five minutes and she's already gotten you all figured out.." Negan taunted, a smirk on his lips. Rick stayed silent, just leading them along like he was told. It seemed like he was ignoring it, but he wasn't. Every single word hung in his brain, already beginning to fester. Even though she hadn't done anything to him personally, he had already labeled her with the same disdain as he had given Negan. In his eyes, every single one of his men should be held to the same standards as their leader, no matter their involvement.

Eventually, they were brought to the food storage, which was a large garage filled with shelves. Rick grabbed the bottom of the garage door, lifting it for them so they could enter. Negan gave a flash of hand and with that, his men began to enter the room, taking 50% like he said. Raven follows behind leans against the wall next to the door and crosses her arms as she watches Negan's men collect the food she glances around and sees Daryl standing there looking miserable she frowns looks down and sighs as she thinks bout what all she going to say or do when she talks to Daryl she hopes to hell he doesn't hate her or disappointed in her while she stays with Negan. She can't handle that or be told that he never wants to see my face again. She felt hurt just thinking bout it. She glanced over at Negan and then looked down at the floor and messed with her necklace as she tried to calm her mind and not let it show to other people.

As the men began to walk back out of the room and gather nearby with the goods, Negan couldn't help but smile. What had started as a horrible adversary was already proving to be a reliable resource. Sure, he could say what he wanted to about Rick, but he had to admit, he was thankful for his willing cooperation. "Alright, let's get this shit to the trucks and go-" Negan spoke, his voice being abruptly interrupted by the sound of a single gunshot coming from a few houses down. Negan and his Saviors turned their attention to the sound, the ones who had their arms free immediately began reaching for their guns. Rick's eyes widened as he realized where the sound had come from before he sprinted in that direction. Negan too followed behind, his face concerned, fearing one of his men had either made the shot or got shot. Either way, whatever the outcome, he knew it was going to cause problems.

Rick burst open the door, his boots thudding loudly as he raced up the stairs. When he reached the room, his breath caught in his throat, gazing upon the sight of his son holding the gun, pointing it at a Savior. Luckily, neither were harmed. It was just a warning shot. "Put some back or the next one goes in you.." Carl threatened, the gun still trained upon the man holding the crate. Rick held out an outstretched hand, slowly and carefully moving closer to take the gun from his son. "Carl. Carl. Put the gun down.." He pleaded, his voice soft but filled with urgency. Carl turned to look at his dad with his remaining eye, his face filling with annoyance and anger before his gaze returned to the Savior. "He's taking all of our medicine. They said only half of our stuff." Carl responded, his voice cracking a little as the nervousness began to set in. Negan walked into the room behind Rick, giving a menacing chuckle as he put his attention on Carl. "Kid?" He questioned, stepping in front of the Savior to act as a shield for him. Sure, it was risky, but he didn't want to lose any of his soldiers. Despite Negan blocking the way, Carl moved the gun so that it was still trained in the location of the same man.

Raven hears the gunshot wound she follows behind as she gets to the room and leans in; she puts her hand on her hip as she walks into the room further seeing the teenage boy holding the gun to one of Negan's men. Sees Negan walking in front of the gun that was just shot she wants to reach out to Negan and say something but she doesn't think that's a good idea she walks at least to stand beside him. She glances over at the kid with the gun. "Negan... are you choosing what you take not just half of stuff? Negan I'm not trying to tell you what you need to do here but everyone needs medicine and it's hard to find right? Do you have a way to see what medication we are low on at the Sanctuary maybe take what we need?" She asks softly as she touches his arm gently and then quickly pulls her hand away and looks down.

Negan softly released a sigh as he listened to her speak. She did have a point, medicine was practically the holy grail of today's world, but they needed that medicine too. Maybe not urgently, but still. You never know when the Saviors would face a time when they would need it. Carl looked at her, his expression lightening slightly after hearing what she said. He hated the Saviors as much as everyone else, but her attempt to help wasn't ignored. A silent look of gratitude appeared in his gaze before his expression changed back as he looked at Negan once more. Negan released a sigh, "How about this? We take the crate this time, and take only half with the next? Normally, I'd agree with my pal over here, but you just shot at one of my boys. I don't take too kindly to that shit."

Raven looks at him and then the kid and sighs and looks down as she holds her necklace again and knows that she tried to help and has a different perspective on the medicine situation she never could find medicine like pain killers it was hard to come by when she was alone out in the woods and being alone for so long she clears her throat. "Um, Negan maybe give the kid some slack he was just trying to protect his group, his family. It was hard for me out there in the woods on my own to even fund painkillers.... never mind I'll shut up now I'll go outside." She says as she starts walking towards the door she doesn't want to talk him down in front of his men she might get an ear full in the truck on the way back to the Sanctuary but she trying to make the situation better and not have someone get hurt or killed on either side especially a teenager who grew up in this world.

Negan took a side glance to her, before looking back over to Carl. He understood where she was coming from, but he had to do something as a punishment for nearly shooting one of his guys. It was either taking their medicine or killing another man and he didn't want to kill any more of them. Regardless, he wouldn't have killed Carl but someone else instead. When she began to walk away, he held his hand up for her to wait. "You can stay in here." He spoke. Carl took a glance at her before his gaze went back to Negan, "You should go with her. You all should, before you see how dangerous we all are." Carl threatened. Negan smirked, his eyes looking over Carl's face for any signs that it might be a bluff, but he couldn't find any. The kid meant it. "Did you just threaten me? .. Now, I get threatening Ol' Davey back there, but me? Now, I can't be having that. Not him, not me, and-" As Negan spoke, he took a step forward towards the teenager, curious of if Carl would still be so brave if the distance between them was shorter. Still, the kid remained strong.

Rick tensed, fear enveloping his face as he watched what was happening in front of him. He already lost two of his good friends, he didn't want to lose his son too. "Carl-" Rick interrupted but was silenced immediately as Negan held up his hand again. "Don't be rude, Rick. We are having a conversation here.. Now, boy, where were we? Oh, that's right, you and your man-sized balls. No threatening us." He spoke, his eyes still trained upon Carl's face, "Listen, I like you. So, I don't wanna go hard proving a point here. I said half of your shit and half, is what I say it is. I'm serious. Do you want me to prove how serious? Again?" The last word was spoken with a little hesitancy, his eyes expressing such as well. After a moment of silence, Carl lowered the gun, handing it over to Rick. Rick finally relaxed, his breath shaky as he trembled a little, understandably terrified of losing his son.

Raven looks over at him once she stops in her tracks and watches what's going on He walks back over to her seeing how serious Negan is but also how serious this kid is. She sees Carl give the gun to Rick she looks at Rick and smirks as she walks over to him as she uses her fingertips on one of your hands to grab the gun from Rick and she holds it in her hands "Wow this is a nice pistol but I got a better one. If they are threatening us with guns Negan maybe they shouldn't have them they must have an arsenal of guns here. I don't like the idea of them having that much weaponry." She says holding the gun and making sure Rick doesn't do anything stupid she points it at him. She doesn't want to hurt anyone but she doesn't like it when Negan gets threatened even though Negan can handle himself her nightmare might come true if he's not careful. Rick didn't try to fight, allowing it to happen. Negan looked over when he heard her speak before a smile stretched on his lips. Sure, she had moments of compassion, but she was getting the hang of things pretty quickly. "You make a very good point, Raven. Why should we let them keep their guns?" "But how do you expect us to defend ourselves? Without guns, we'll die!" Carl piped up, his voice distraught. His eye looked over the three, his gaze lingering on Raven in a silent plea for her to stand up for them like she had before.

"We are your protection now, kid. You give me your shit, and we protect you, that was the deal." Negan spoke, his eyes on Rick as he spoke, not bothering to look over at Carl this time. "Well, Rick. How about you show me my guns?" He spoke once again. Rick, though a little hesitant, walked out of the room and down the stairs, moving to lead them to their armory. Raven looks at the kid and then looks away as she knows they aren't going to be responsible for these guns anymore and sighs "Well you know Negan how do you think they got all these guns didn't you say you had men at those outposts who had guns. Look I get you guys to need protection but by the way, you acting and what we just witnessed there is no trust. Negan can agree with how things have been between you guys and I mean we can let you melee weapons but no guns that need ammo plus ammo is also hard to come by these days not unless you knew where an army base was like I do." She says as she smirks and looks up at Negan winking at him. She felt bad for the kid but his father is a dumbass of a leader anyways

Negan kept his eyes on Rick as he made his way out of the house and towards the armory, following behind him. So far, they all were still being very compliant. Negan's smile widened as he heard her speak. "Another good point, Miss Rose. That outpost had a lot of guns that just vanished into thin air after that whole mess. I have a pretty strong gut feeling that they're right here." He spoke. Rick remained silent, although a flash of something crossed his face when he heard something about the military base. Carl followed behind them, still anxious about the whole thing. His face was full of regret, his chest tight from guilt. If he hadn't tried to threaten Negan and that Savior, then maybe they wouldn't be going through this. Now, if anything bad happened to Alexandria in which they needed guns, any casualties would be on him. At least, that's how he felt about it.

Raven follows behind him and stands in the doorway of the armory after everyone walks into the room she looks at the arsenal of weapons they have she sighs and shakes her head she looks down wondering if they have any weapons that don't need ammo like melee weapons to help them not die while they are out there collect supplies for themselves and the Saviors. "Hey Negan, maybe they should have melee weapons they need some way to not die while being out there collecting supplies they can't be completely defensive. And I mean, we can't lose people because they don't have weapons." She says as she keeps leaning her shoulder on the door frame and crosses her arms, looking down but glancing up at him. She didn't think saying anything bout the military base would cause issues in the future she hasn't been or seen the military base in years she doesn't even know if there are still weapons and ammo there she doesn't remember exactly where it is. It's been too many years since she saw it The Saviors gathered up the guns, bringing them back to the trucks as well as the food. The people of the community gathered nearby to watch, fear and anger enveloping their faces. However, no one said a jeer or tried to stand up. Instead, they all just stared. They had been extremely compliant this entire time, the only one showing any kind of resistance being a teenage boy. It was pretty strange, but maybe they just feared confrontation. Negan turned to look at Raven as she spoke, before smiling a little. "Don't you worry your pretty little head? They get to keep all of their knives, bows, swords, whatever. All I want are guns." He reassured her, before turning his attention back to his men as they worked.

Next Chapter

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[impaladolan]

Capture - Grayson Dolan [9/-]

summary: after a wild night, and an amazing slumber, you agree to have a “normal” day with him.. in which you found out his name.. finally..

warnings: smut, kinda fluff-ish, & swearing

a/n: sorry that it takes me literally years to come out with new capture parts. i’ve just been very unmotivated and i just haven’t been able to put my thoughts into words lately. BUT this is finally part nine and i hope you enjoy ! <3

You braced your body for a hard fucking.

Even in the hazed state of drunkenness, where you could hardly make out the few feet in front of you, your body ached and shivered for his touch. Just feeling the warmth of his tall stature standing behind you created some sort of barrier of relief, like you could feel safe within his arms.

Which should be far from the truth...

You heard the echoing sound of his pants falling to the ground with a thud, while his shirt flew over your head and landed on the floor in front of you. Still, even in the weakness of want and need, you contemplated an escape. You knew you'd never succeed, but it was a thought trapped in the back of your mind at all times.

It felt like it had been forever since he last touched you, when in reality, mere seconds.

You almost cried out for him, but you soon felt the coolness of his hand travel down your spine, eliciting a soft whimper to cascade from your lips. His finger pulled the brim of his shirt up your body, just enough to fully examine your backside like it was a precious artifact. You arched your back to his touch, sighing as both of his hands slid up your sides.

Not a word slipped from his mouth as he slipped his hands beneath your thighs, aligning his hard cock with your drenched pussy, roughly pulling you closer to him.

“What made you think you could get into Daddy’s alcohol?” He questions as he finally sinks in, filling your center’s walls until he no longer could. You held your breath as he stretched your pussy achingly slow, a groan escaping his mouth as his girth becomes surrounded with your warmth.

“And snoop around my office like a fucking bad girl?” Just a slow as before, he retracts his hips from yours, watching as your breathing becomes erratic. “D-Daddy!” You scream when he roughly thrusts into you without warning, beginning a quick pace that made you squeal.

He drew his hand back and laid a harsh slap against your ass, guiding his other hand to your shoulder to hold onto for stability. His own breathing became ragged as his cock reached depths into your pussy, unlike any other guy ever had. His reddened tip brushed just delicately over that body-numbing spot that made you squirm and want to shriek with pleasure.

“God, you’re so fucking tight.” He murmured breathlessly to himself, which only furthered him to want you more. He travels his free hand back down to your slick folds, adding quick circles with his thumb to the hood of your clit. Your mind was too slow to comprehend the amount of ecstasy the man behind you was bringing, but you knew you had to be close to combusting around his sunken cock— and you could hardly wait.

He was close too, his movements became ragged and he too was in a state of euphoria where he couldn’t decipher what’s wrong from right.

“I-I’m so fucking close, Daddyy.” You drug out, hiccuping when he brushes over that spot over and over, like he knew that that’s where it made you shiver and yelp for him. You didn’t wait for a response. Instead, you came all over him— falling apart in his grasp.

And he did the same.

He breathed a soft moan as he came undone, shooting his hot spurts of cum up into you, his chest heaving up and down from exertion. Soon enough, he pulled away from you. The warmth of him and his body leaving you sprawled out upon his desk like it had never happened.

You turned over to lay on your back, exhaustion tightening upon your heaving body. If allowed so, you would've fell asleep right on his desk. Possibly even lay down on the floor, for your room seemed like miles away and your legs weren't stable enough to balance on anyway. Your eyes were already shut and your mind became clear, unbothered by anything surrounding you.

Even he had escaped your mind, all until you felt your shirt unravel down your body, shielding the bareness of your skin. He cleaned up the mess that the two of you had made, and tucked a piece of lose hair behind your ear.You didn't care to open your eyes, but your heart seemed to beat a little quicker as he picked you up. His touch was delicate, like you were a priceless piece of art. And he even walked gracefully, slow and simple steps until the warmth of another room struck your frozen face.

His embrace was so comfortable, soothing even, and you couldn't help the heaviness of your eyelids. You were halfway asleep before he laid you down on his bed and lifted the silky smooth covers over your body.

"Goodnight, G." You weren't sure how, but you were capable enough whisper that little phrase. His heart fluttered, a smiling drawing his lips and he just had to bend down and leave a sweet kiss on your cheek.

"Sweet dreams." His once harsh voice was softer than he had ever used it, something familiar that you seemed to have known a long time ago..

Your dreams swept over your fulfilled mind, and a deep sleep fell over you.

-

Your eyes fluttered open and a golden splash of sun had seeped ever so quietly through the window of the room in which you were peacefully sleeping in. You were sunken into the pillowy surface of a gigantic bed, the fluffy duvet covering you entirely and some more. In the imaginary book titled "Top Five Sleeps I've Ever Had," you'd have to say that waking up like this had to at least be pulling in the top three. It was so warm and comfy, and the likelihood of you ever moving from such a position, was very rare.

Now, the man, snoring like an angel would, beside you, shouldn't feel oh-so normal. In fact, anyone with morals and common sense would be outraged and have thrown a fit. After all, he's a stranger— who's gone as far as to kidnap you and hold you captive for however long it's been. But, if we're being honest, you've lost all sense and mindfulness by now. You're flatly surviving with your emotions at this point.

He is pretty attractive though...

Your eyes had nothing else to do except roam his exposed backside, the sunlight sculpting all the creases of his uniformly patterned muscles. And his soft hair, placed angelically upon the pillow where the rest of his head laid. If only it were under different circumstances, would you then and only then consider his affection and presumably put it into a relationship.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you that it's rude to stare?" His hoarse voice rose just a little above a whisper, a temporary chuckle flooding from his lips as well. "I'm admiring, not staring. There's a difference." Although you followed with an eye roll, your lips were twisted into a giddy grin and the roundest part of your cheeks became a rosy pink.

"Still quick-witted, huh?" He began as he rolled his body over to face you. His lips were a swollen red, just enough to leave a small peck upon— only if you could. His hazels were glistening after a long yawn emptied from his mouth, which unfortunately you're extremely contagious to. You open your mouth to replicate what he had just done, but your yawn is stopped short when his soothing words seeped from his lips.

"I wish it were back to normal, like the old days. With me, waking up right next to you." He began as a cheesy smile curved his lips. "Talking, laughing, deep conversations, debating, arguing— everything that we used to do, I want it back. I want you to remember who I am, to remember us."

"Then show me." You subtly demanded. His eyes flickered wider as his cheeks turned into a pinkish-red. Within an instant, he threw the covers off of the two of you and quickly scrambled out of the comfortable bed.

"C'mon." He held out his hand for your own, and with a nice smile you took it. He pulled you up from the bed and onto the chilling floor with ease, soliciting a short giggle as you stabilized your aching body upon your feet.

No matter how peculiar this situation is, you wanted to at least try to have one normal encounter with him.

You kept your hands intertwined as he led you from the room and down the hall towards the kitchen. He only let go when he was in reach of the coffee machine that he as nicely set atop the counter of his large kitchen. “Coffee, M’lady?” He curved one of his brows as he turned on the high tech machine as you happily nodded.

You haven’t had a warm cup of coffee in a long time, it seems...

-

Your stomach began to hurt from all the endless laughing you've been submerged in, reminiscing on your own childhood stories as well as his college adventures for the past couple hours. The two of you left the kitchen and your empty mugs awhile ago, and now you both were comfortably settled upon the expensively clothed couches that were strategically placed in the large living area.

Your mind is at such an ease, talking to a man you’ve somewhat grown to know in this morning.

The way he talked and expressed himself reminded you of someone you used to know, a long time ago. And it made your head fuzzy and clueless, irritated that you couldn't exactly pinpoint who he really was. Once the laughter had subsided, and the never-leaving question once again clouded your mind— you just had to ask.

"Who— Who are you?" Your voice was so curious, so innocent and in need of an answer from the man you've been so desperate to know for ages.

He didn't reply straight away. Instead, he focused his glistened orbs on the likes of yours, reaching depths it never had before. He intakes a large, deep breath, blowing his exhale out through his nose as his chest fell in a relaxed sigh.

"Grayson," He solemnly began, standing from his former seat and taking a few steps towards you, "Dolan." He crouched down before you as his lips sealed, his shaking hands falling onto your shoulders and gracefully sliding up your neck, resting upon the warmth of your cheeks.

You mind tumbled as your tongue wouldn't lather a word to permit from your mouth. You froze, unable to move or even think clearly as realization courses through you.

"It can't be.." You were eventually able to stutter, bringing your hands up to lay flat on his own. A single tear fell from you eye, and Grayson shuttered..

-

He's dead.

And so am I.

to be continued...

[kitkatd7]

Old Fashion Way

12 Days of Christmas; Day 3

Pairing: Steve x Reader

Summary: Finding the perfect tree… The old fashion way

Warnings: none, just fluff! (And minor editing)

Word Count: 462

A/N: This is my 3rd 12 Days of Christmas fic! I hope yall like it! It's also a follow up to A Day in the Snow

Masterlist of Masterlists

12 Days of Christmas Masterlist

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

Nestled away in the woods in a log cabin, you're enjoying your Christmas holiday. Or you were until you hear Steve murmuring, "Babe, wake up," from outside your pile of blankets. "Baby, you gotta get up now- you said we'd go get a tree today," Steve persuades, rubbing small circles on your back. 

"Mmf fine, but later," you groan. 

"Nope. Now." 

"Fine… Only if there's coffee involved though," you barter, peeking up at him. 

Reaching to his side of the bed, he returns with a travel mug of your favorite coffee. 

"I love you," you say to no one in particular, accepting the fragrant beverage. 

Chuckling, Steve asks, "Are you talking to me or the coffee?"

You take a sip. "Both."

He laughs, shaking his head at you. "You're a mess."

"True, but you're stuck with me." You hum, feeling much more awake.

"And I wouldn't have it any other way- now get up." 

30 minutes later, after a hearty breakfast and a wardrobe change out of your pajama pants, you grab the car keys from the ring by the door.

"We won't need those," Steve informs you, grabbing his thin coat. 

"Why not?"

"Because… we're doing this the old fashion way! We're gonna walk out the back door, into the woods, find the perfect tree and cut it down ourselves!" 

"Why are you always so adventurous and eager?" You mumble, placing the keys back. 

"I can still hear you," Steve huffs playfully from the sliding glass door on the side of the cabin. 

"Yeah, yeah. Supersoldier and all that," you chortle. 

Walking hand in hand through the forest with Steve, you wrap your other hand around his bicep, getting closer for warmth- mostly for warmth anyway.

"How 'bout that one?" He suggests, looking at a pretty spruce, perfect aside from a bare patch on one side. 

"Mm… let's keep looking." Breaking away from his side you begin to wander around the forest thoughtfully.

Weaving between pines, cedars, spruce, white pines, furs, and all the evergreens available, you both point out different trees for nearly an hour, never finding quite the right one. 

"How 'bout this one?" Steve calls.

Glancing over you shake your head. "Too little." 

"This is gonna take forever," he mumbles. 

"You're the one who wanted to do this," you remind him, "Also if I get frostbite I'm blaming it on-" Stopping, you look up, taking in the tree before you. 

"How about this one?" You ask, examining it from all angles thoughtfully.

It was a beautiful tree; standing 8 or 9 feet tall with soft needles and a beautiful blanket of snow covering it.

His gaze lights on you, bundled up against the cold, your cheeks rosy and your eyes bright. Not even sparing the tree a glance he murmurs, "Yep. That one's perfect."

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

Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think!!

Forever Tags: (OPEN)

@lovesmesomehiddles @saiyanprincessswanie @kind-sober-fullydressed @buckys-other-punk @romainniesweetheart ​ @malloryharris @itsunclebucky @teenagereadersciencenerd @chaotic-fae-queen @bugsbucky @cap-n-stuff @imma-new-soul @wonderlandfandomkingdom @fablesrose @coffeebooksandfandom

12 Days of Christmas Tags: (OPEN)

@myraiswack

[johaerys-writes]

Fandom: The Song of Achilles Pairing: Achilles/Patroclus

Chapter 9: Moments in Time of High-Flying Birds is up! Some more fluff with the sweetest boys in the whole wide world, this time from Achilles’ POV :) 

Read here or on AO3! Or read from the beginning 

*****

The moments Achilles spends with Patroclus are precious to him. He gathers them all, one by one, like pearls on a string.

~

The owls hidden in the trees beyond their cave hooted softly into the night as Achilles lay next to Patroclus on their narrow pallet, catching his breath. The air around them was heavy and sweet like overripe fruit, the sheets tangled around their feet. The light of their lone candle cast trembling shadows along the domed wall.

How long have you felt like this? Achilles had asked Patroclus, his arm resting on his stomach, moving with his breaths. He watched him carefully now, committing his features to memory, the way the shadows played across his cheek, pooled in the hollow of his eye, carved the delicate slope of his nose.

“I’ve loved you ever since I laid eyes on you, I suppose,” Patroclus whispered. His finger traced the side of Achilles’ face, cool and soft like lily-of-the-valley petals at dawn. His lips were still flushed, his voice slightly hoarse from passion.

Achilles blinked, puzzled. “You did?”  He propped himself on one elbow to glance down at him, lying as he was beneath him, his dark brown curls a halo around his head. “I thought you didn’t care for me at all. You used to glare at me.”

“Did I? I remember no such thing.” Patroclus blushed, his lips curling in a cheeky smile. When Achilles narrowed his eyes in puzzlement, he chuckled softly.  “I didn’t know what to make of you. You had everything. I had nothing, yet I could still find no flaw in you, nothing for my anger to latch on.” His eyes flashed then, the flickering light reflecting in them like twin flames. “It was different, when I got to know you. That was when I realised that my search for things to dislike in you was pointless. So I couldn’t help but love you instead.”

“You make it sound as if you had no choice,” Achilles said, half in jest, yet worry pulsed within him while he waited for Patroclus’ reply. The thought of Patroclus having no choice but to love him at once warmed and chilled him. Blind adoration was reserved for gods, and what they all believed was owed to them. His mother had often told him that most men were bound to admire him, because of his divine birth. Achilles didn’t want that. He wanted Patroclus to give him his heart of his own accord, as Achilles was offering him his.

Patroclus stayed silent for a long time. Just when Achilles thought he would never answer, he finally spoke. “No,” he said quietly. “Before I met you, I thought I had no say in anything. You were the one who showed me that I had a choice in everything.”

The quiet solemnity of Patroclus’ voice stirred something within him that he couldn’t quite explain. He wrapped his arms around him and leaned forward, catching his lips between his own, threading his fingers through his hair. Patroclus was soft and pliant in his hold, but Achilles could feel the metal that hid deep within, the steadfastness of his will. If there was anyone in the world that could stand beside him as an equal, then that was him.

Achilles pulled him close, so close he could feel his heart beating against his own, letting Patroclus’ soft breathing lull him to sleep.

One.

~

Patroclus’ breaths were coming swiftly, almost panting, as they climbed the steep path to the olive grove, on the north side of the mountain. It was past the stream, past the clearing of maple trees with their burnt orange canopy of leaves. The summer was just coming to an end, and the leaves on the centuries old trees were just starting to darken. Whenever Chiron sent them to chop firewood, they always went there. They hadn’t had as much need for wood that summer- their winter reserves had been enough for their daily cooking- but the cold during autumn nights on the mountain was often biting. After their chores were done, they would sit under the olive trees’ dappled shade and let the clear breeze dry the dampness on their skin, the merry trill of the birds overhead to ease the rapid beating of their hearts.

Patroclus ducked under some low hanging branches, following the old path amidst the tall grasses and overgrown weeds sprouting from the soil, undisturbed by human presence. His axe was hanging by his leather belt, its handle dressed with tough leather. Achilles let his gaze follow the lines of Patroclus’ frame, the light coloured fabric of his tunic, almost transparent now, damp with the sweat on his back. His face was flushed from the exertion, the skin on his brow glistening, tan and golden brown.

Patroclus glanced at him over his shoulder, having noticed him watching. He still blushed ever so slightly whenever he caught Achilles’ eyes on him. Achilles liked watching the colour that crept up his cheeks, the warmth in his eyes. Sometimes, he could still see the surprise in his gaze, split seconds before he averted it. It was almost instinctive, no doubt from all the years he’d had to hide it. Yet, with every day that passed, their bond grew stronger, their desire bolder. Achilles didn’t even think before threading his fingers through his when they walked, before drawing him close for a quick kiss in between the chores and tasks Chiron gave them. Things he had often dreamed about, yet never thought he could grasp in earnest.

“Where shall we start?” Patroclus asked, bringing his open palm over his eyes to shield them from the midday glare. They were standing at the edge of the meadow, overlooking the clearing. “That tree over there looks easy enough to cut down.”

“I have a better idea,” Achilles said, taking his hand. Patroclus’ breath hitched just a little when Achilles pulled him close. His lips were warm and plush when Achilles bent down to kiss them, his dark brown curls slightly damp with sweat when Achilles’ threaded his fingers through them.

“What about the firewood?” he asked breathlessly against Achilles’ lips, even as he let himself be nudged back towards an oak tree.

“Later.” Achilles’ teeth closed over Patroclus’ pillowy bottom lip as he pressed him against the tree trunk. Their kisses were sometimes sweet and tender, others passionate and almost desperate, but they always lit the same fire in Achilles’ heart. He liked the feel of Patroclus’ breath on his lips, the pressure of his body against his own. He knew the curves of his body now, all the little things he’d never noticed before; the dip in the center of his pillowy bottom lip, the tiny pinpricks of orange and gold hidden in the deep brown of his eyes, the way his pulse thrummed in the hollow of his throat whenever Achilles was near. His sighs, the little sounds he made, the way he held him, that never failed to make Achilles’ blood stir in his veins.

Achilles pulled back to look at him, brushing his thumb over Patroclus’ lower lip. Patroclus’ lids were heavy with want when he glanced up at him. His colour was high, his cheekbones warm and rosy, the life pulsating just beneath his skin.

Patroclus laughed, a sound soft and clear like bell chimes, when Achilles’ gaze lingered on him for a long moment, steady and unmoving. “What? Is there something on my face?”

Achilles smiled. It surprised him still, sometimes, how much they’d both changed since they’d first met. They’d been but children then, yet now they were men grown. Achilles let his finger trail lower, caressing the apple of Patroclus’ throat, then lower still, following the line of his collarbone, the curve of his shoulder, broader now and stronger than it had ever been. He felt Patroclus shiver under his touch, his smooth skin prickle and grow warm.

“I think you’re really beautiful, Patroclus.”

Patroclus’ breath caught. The pearl white bite of his teeth flashed over his bottom lip, the flush on his cheeks darkening, but this time, he didn’t draw his eyes away. “Kiss me,” he said in a breathless whisper.

And Achilles did. Amidst the blood red poppies and the gently swinging daisies, in a square of gossamer sunlight, Achilles lay down with his Patroclus.

Two.

~

After they both lay sated, Achilles watched the intricate lacework of light and shadows that fell on Patroclus’ chest, his smooth stomach. His eyes were closed and his expression was serene, but his mouth had this contemplative curl to it, as it always did when something troubled him. "What are you thinking about?"

Patroclus’ lids fluttered open to reveal gentle brown eyes. “Chiron,” he replied, his voice taking on a slow, thoughtful lilt. In it, Achilles could read more than Patroclus had said; he could hear his worry about their mentor finding out about them, and along with him, Achilles’ father, his mother.

Achilles gazed at him quietly for a moment, considering. They had had this conversation before, many times. They were valid concerns, as reasonable as any other, though Achilles only thought of them for Patroclus’ sake. He didn’t care what people would do if they found out about them. He had sworn to himself, the very night they had lain together, that he would never let anything come between them; not Chiron with his wise words, not his father, not even his mother, with all the power and wisdom her divine blood granted her. Achilles wouldn’t let Patroclus go, not for all of the world.

With his fingers, Achilles followed lazily the dark dots that lay scattered across Patroclus’ dewy olive skin like constellations. “Do you care if they are angry?”

Patroclus shifted on his side to face him. Achilles could see his mind working, the gears churning, ever so quietly, methodically. He had a neat and careful mind, Patroclus did. “No,” he replied at last.

“Good.” Achilles closed his eyes and sighed when Patroclus caressed the side of his face, pushing a strand of his hair behind his ear. When he glanced back at him, there were pinpoints of light moving gently across his face, twinkling like stars as the wind moved. When they lay like this together, Achilles could spend a thousand moments, hours, a lifetime just gazing at him, noticing every small detail as if he was about to paint his likeness in fresco, to have and to hold for all time. Everyone in the world would know of him then, of them. One day, Achilles would be famous, so his mother had said; amongst the heroes of old the most renowned. The thought stirred no awe or fascination within him. It was just the way things were. So many men had risen to great heights, only to fall soon after. Hercules had slain the Hydra and the Nemean lion, only for jealous Hera to steal his wits and lead him to kill his wife and children. Meleager had killed the famed Calydonian boar, but after a bloody dispute with his uncles, had been killed by his own mother. Theseus had defeated the Minotaur and returned to Athens a hero, only to be thrown off the cliff of a distant island years later, after having lost the favour of his people.

Achilles had often thought of them and their stories, had tried to find the similarities between their lives and his own. Yet, every time, he returned to the same conclusion. None of those great heroes had what Achilles had. None of them had someone like Patroclus by their side. Their fates were linked inexorably, twin flames from the same fire. Achilles would do anything within his power to make Patroclus happy. No matter what came, as long as Patroclus was with him, Achilles’ fate would be one of happiness, as well as of glory.

“I’ll tell you a secret,” he said.

Patroclus looked at him quizzically, an amused smile already playing at the edges of his lips. “What secret?”

“I’ll be the first hero to be happy.” He took Patroclus’ hand in his, threaded their fingers together. “Swear it.”

“Why me?”

Achilles beamed, satisfaction burning bright within him for having finally solved the riddle. “Because you’re the reason.”

The smile on Patroclus’ lips widened and slipped sideways, filled with warmth and adoration. The sunlight painted the side of his face golden, caught in the chestnut brown highlights in his dark, unruly curls. When Patroclus smiled like that, Achilles wanted to reach up towards the heavens, pluck the sun from its place in the sky like a ripe pear from a bough and lay it at his feet, a sacred offering and a testament to their immortal bond. Their love.

“I swear it,” Patroclus whispered.

Three.

[bimboamyrose]

Unfamiliar (Ch. 10)

Unfamiliar - A Metamy Fanfic

First two chapters

Previous (Ch.9)

Chapter 10: Indebted

“You told Knuckles, right?” Amy nervously held her communicator at eye level as she adjusted her scarf in the camera.

“I told you I did,” Tails responded. He was making the final preparations to his plane for takeoff. “Can you just come over already?”

Amy groaned. “I don’t want a repeat of last time!”

“Knuckles isn’t going to kill Metal.”

“Right…” she looked over to Metal, who was shifting his weight between feet impatiently. His jacket was draped over one arm.

“Just fly over. I’m almost ready for takeoff.”

“Are you sure you can fly with one hand?”

He shrugged. “Probably.”

It did little to ease her stress. “Okay, we’ll be there in a few.” Tails gave her a thumbs up before disconnecting, leaving Amy to look at her own troubled reflection in the dark screen. She sighed deeply, worried for what was to come. “Are you ready, Metal?” 

Sensing her distress, he stopped his fidgeting to give a nod. They would be flying to Angel Island that morning to meet with Amy’s friends- no, her team. Metal had already met most of them individually, but as a team, they had been his enemies for nearly a decade. It would be tense. First, however, they had to get Tails’ lab so she could board his plane.

Amy returned the nod and the pair got ready to take off outside. “I’ll take that for you.” She reached out for Metal’s jacket. “So it doesn’t wrinkle.” He handed it to her to fold neatly, though she held it so tightly that it creased under her anxious grasp anyway. 

Metal picked her up delicately. Since their encounter with Sonic, he treated her with kid gloves, afraid of causing another injury. Amy had noticed this and was tactfully avoiding bringing it up, even going as far as to cover her bandaged arm whenever they were together. It was sweet that he was being considerate, but his gingerly grip on her made her more nervous than a silly cut on her arm. “Metal, do you think you could hold me tighter?” Color rushed into her cheeks when she realized how forward it sounded. “So I don’t fall, I mean! Oh, not that I think you’ll drop me-” Take your foot out of your mouth, she scolded herself.

The same nervous excitement from a day earlier hit him and he stiffened suddenly. She was right, the fragility with which he was holding her could cause him to lose his grip if he wasn’t careful. Metal’s arms tightened around Amy as she settled into him, her red face buried in his jacket. She looked oddly… endearing that way- what a clumsy feeling.

“I’m ready when you are,” she mumbled, her voice muffled by the fabric.

They propelled into the sky at a much slower pace than usual. Amy peeked out from her satiny hiding place when she noticed. They were running late as it was. “Um, you can go a little faster. I’ll be okay,” she assured. Metal obliged, though she was well aware that they still weren’t moving as quickly as they could. Luckily, their destination wasn’t far.

Tails was already hurrying Amy along the moment they landed on the runway. “Come on, you know how Knuckles gets,” he insisted. 

“Okay!” she huffed, climbing into the back seat of the small plane. Amy was still scrambling to get her goggles on as the engine started.

“Ready for takeoff. Try to keep up, Metal,” Tails grinned.

“Tails!” Amy snapped before Metal could so much as make a noise.

He snickered as the plane accelerated forward and lifted off the end of the runway, Metal following closely. He hovered near Amy’s seat as they flew, though she nervously looked straight ahead for most of the flight. As they approached their floating destination, Tails pointed out the landing site- a spacious clearing at the edge of a dense forest. Metal cut ahead of them, doing a flashy set of loops in the air before spiraling to the ground and looking back up at Tails expectantly. 

“Psh. Show-off.” Tails remarked. “Think we can beat that?”

“No!” Amy felt sick enough as it was. Tails seemed to be enjoying himself though, laughing in response.

Once on the ground, Amy unbuckled herself and exited hastily. The tall plane was harder to jump out of than it was to climb into, but she’d done it dozens of times- not that knowing this would have stopped Metal from hurrying over to offer her a hand. 

“See?” Tails said smugly. “Told ya I could fly with just one hand.”

Amy rolled her eyes at Tails as Metal helped her down. “Thanks. Here,” she offered Metal his jacket and smoothed down her hair and scarf while he slipped it on. She moved on to smoothing out the wrinkles in the satin across his shoulders and adjusted the collar, looking Metal up and down. “There. I think you look pretty friendly.” Taking each of his hands in hers, her brow curled anxiously. “Remember what we talked about, ‘kay?”

Metal had spent much of the morning listening to Amy as she got ready, rambling the team dynamics and how their meetings usually went. “We work with some other people, but usually discuss things between ourselves before getting anyone else involved,” she’d told him. “So it’s kind of a big deal that you’re coming. Thanks for agreeing to it.” Then she’d flashed her usual sweet grin, though she let out a sigh at the same time. “So, just sit and listen, and get to know everyone! I really think you can get along well.” Metal wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince him or herself.

Just having someone new at the table might cause tension, but he had a feeling that who that someone was would factor into the strain more than anything. He couldn’t remember any of their encounters or battles- but they could. What’s more, the threat they were discussing was Metal’s very creator; he didn’t know how he would feel or if he’d agree to help if asked. There were too many unanswered questions and he knew he couldn’t follow Amy around forever; at some point he would have to learn about his old life. It was only fair to be informed about how it could affect the people that showed him kindness. How it could affect her. 

Now they were minutes away from this meeting, the importance of which couldn’t be overstated for Amy. She wouldn’t say it directly, but she was anxiously putting her faith in Metal, hoping he wouldn’t have another outburst akin to their encounter with Sonic. After recalling how they’d all met, his actions, though well-meaning, were admittedly threatening. He would have to show more restraint.

“Oh! Here,” Amy fished a little notebook and pen from her coat pocket. “In case you need it. Sorry, the whiteboard was a little cumbersome for the flight.” Metal took them with a nod, tucking them away in his jacket. 

A gust of wind blew Amy’s hair over her face and caused her scarf to whip around uncontrollably. Sonic had rushed in, skidding to a halt just past the trio. “Hey! What took ya so long?” 

“I just fixed this,” Amy groaned, combing down her quills. Tails made his way over to greet Sonic as she readjusted her scarf for the third time.

“Don’t worry, Ames, it’s just us.” Sonic turned his attention to Metal momentarily. “And you, I guess. Hey, isn’t that Amy’s jacket?”

Metal crossed his arms and chimed indignantly. “It’s, uh, his now,” she replied sheepishly.

“Oh-kay. Hey, Tails, why don’t you take Metal and go ahead. I wanna catch up with Amy real quick.”

The two hadn’t spoken since the incident. Neither of them wanted the meeting to be any more uncomfortable than necessary, and apologies were no doubt in order. “Do you mind, Metal?” she turned to him with her gentle request. He shrugged nonchalantly with a hand at his hip, doing a poor job at concealing his annoyance.

Tails beckoned to him. “Come on, it’s not far.” Metal joined the boy, following him on the path ahead. He took a quick look back at  the pair just in time to spot Sonic placing a hand on Amy’s shoulder.

“You alright, Amy?”

She nodded, her cheeks turning rosy. “Mhm. I’m sorry about the other day- I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that...”

“Come on, we both know I’m used to your temper by now,” he teased. “But, you know, sorry if I sounded  like I don’t trust you.”

“Do you, though?”

“Of course! But Metal Sonic- I mean, he just flew off with you- like before. I was worried, Ames.”

It was reassuring to hear him admit his concern. Amy understood that Sonic cared for her- but after all their years of friendship, she wondered if he’d ever feel any other way about her. When she recalled the hand she’d drawn at her reading so many years ago, Amy couldn’t help but ponder over her interpretation of it. Lately, it felt more and more like her crush would never be anything more than that. Still, hearing him admit any kind of affection for her made Amy melt. She met his eyes and smiled sheepishly. “Thanks, Sonic. I know you’re worried, but Metal’s been doing great. It sounds silly, but I think he was trying to protect me.”

“That so?” 

She shrugged. “Well, he didn’t do it for shock value.”

Sonic’s usual grin returned to his face. “Well, either way, I can’t be too worried; I’ve seen you knock him around pretty good since the first time he kidnapped you,” he snickered. 

Amy smiled along, though being reminded made her uncomfortable. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Look, I think what you’re doing is great. Just promise you’ll keep your guard up, alright?”

“Sure,” she agreed. Amy sincerely felt that she was safe with metal, but it wasn’t worth continuing the argument. She was sure that Sonic would see that soon enough.

“Anyway, we’re late. Let’s get going before Knuckles loses it.”

The two set off on a well-worn path through the thicket of trees that grew denser as they went. A rocky clearing led into a burrow, where they found the others waiting for them. A pile of pillows and cushions were laid out against one wall in a circle- their usual seating arrangement on the floor. Knuckles and Tails had taken their usual seats, studying some documents that lay before them. Tails picked up a map to take a closer look. Metal was standing cross-armed near the entrance as the chilly air spilled in from the outside. Though Amy was strung tighter than a mandolin, she still did her best to give him a reassuring look on her way in.

Knuckles looked up as the duo entered. “About time. Amy, c’mere and sit next to me.”

“Oh, um, sure.” She usually sat next between him and Sonic anyway; it was odd he asked her to sit with him specifically. She took a seat on a cushion next to his and he immediately threw an arm around her, pulling her in close. Amy sensed Metal was putting his guard up.

“Amy, care to tell me why you’ve brought a killer enemy robot to my home?”

Despite the chill, Amy was beginning to sweat. She laughed softly in an attempt to lighten the mood. “Stop kidding around, Knuckles. We’re all friends here.”

Knuckles didn’t find it so funny. “Am I the only one who remembers when your ‘friend’ stole the Master Emerald and sent my home plummeting to the ground?”

Sonic sat next to her, grinning. Amy ignored him, looking instead toward Metal and making a patting motion with her hand, signaling to keep calm. “Come on, Knuckles, that was years ago. Besides, Metal doesn’t remember doing that.”

“That doesn’t make it okay!”

She pushed him away. “Ugh! Would you calm down? You’re yelling in my ear.” 

“I think the situation warrants some yelling, Amy!”

Sonic was snickering nearby; payback for all the times she and Tails teased him and Knuckles about their petty bickering. If looks could kill, she would have harpooned him with her eyes. Sonic cleared his throat, quickly gathering himself. “Relax, Knuckles. Amy says Metal’s safe, so he’s safe. Right, Tails?”

“Huh?” Too entranced in the map to notice the argument, Tails looked up upon hearing his name. “Oh, yeah. We took his weapons, anyway,” he shrugged.

Amy turned her deadly glare to Tails, who quickly hid behind his map again. “Who’s ‘we’? You did that.” Trying to avoid antagonizing Metal, Amy hadn't exactly made it known that Tails went beyond repairs when he was working on him. This wasn’t the gentlest way for Metal to find out. 

“I think it was a good call,” Sonic remarked. She scoffed back indignantly.

Metal was looking to Amy, who turned back to him with an apologetic expression. They hadn’t been there for two minutes and the meeting was already a trainwreck. He’d expected the heightened reactions, but learning that whatever weapons he was once equipped with were just taken from him without consent was an unpleasant surprise. Despite not remembering what he’d lost, he felt somewhat betrayed. Perhaps Amy still had her guard up along with the others.

Taking a deep breath, Amy addressed the room. “Guys, let’s settle down, there’s business to discuss. Metal, come sit with us,” she motioned to him. Narrowing his eyes in Metal’s direction, Knuckles grumbled something under his breath.  “Quit it already,” Amy elbowed him. He conceded, letting out an exasperated breath as Metal sat across from them, remaining further out of the circle than the others.

The team all turned to Sonic expectantly while Metal sat watching Amy. Her anxiety grew again as she felt his eyes on her and she was reminded of their first meeting. 

“Well, now that that’s out of the way,” Sonic began, “Let’s talk shop. Tails?”

He nodded. “So, last time we encountered Eggman, he ran off before the fight was finished.”

“So, we decided to go after him,” Sonic interjected. “I went looking for him the next day, but there were no flashy hideaways or ‘secret’ factory- none of his usual antics.”

“Then I saw this.” Tails tossed a newspaper into the center of the circle and Amy and Knuckles leaned in for a closer look. Magic City Under Way, read the main headline. Concept art of three tall, tower-like buildings was illustrated, followed by a smaller photo of a crew breaking ground at a construction site. A familiar rotund figure stood at the center proudly.

“Eggman?” Knuckles picked up the paper for a better look. “What’s he building?”

“Some kind of theme park by the looks of it,” Tails suggested.

Knuckles scoffed, tossing the paper aside. “That’s his usual schtick- let’s just go after him already.”

“Nothing to go after,” Sonic replied. “He’s usually building these things in secret, right? Using some weird tech to pull off his evil scheme. And now, he’s just out in the open. What’s that about?”

Amy picked up the newspaper, skimming through the article. “Magic City. I heard about this project- is Eggman really behind it? He usually sticks his face on everything, but this looks normal.”

“Yeah, that’s cause there’s nothing out of the ordinary going on there. I spent the better part of a week hanging around that construction site. I even talked with some crew members and snooped around the place, but it was just your average build site. Everyone acted totally normal-”

“Pah, sounds like some mind control junk to me,” Knuckles interrupted.

Tails leaned in. “That’s what we thought, too. But none of the crew seemed brainwashed. And look at this,” he pulled up some photos on a digital tablet, scrolling through. “Budgeting sheets, payroll…”

“Just like any other jobsite,” Sonic confirmed. “Why would you need HR if you’re using mind-control?”

“Sonic even found blueprints for the buildings. The one on the left is basically just a hotel. There’s a few restaurants, a casino on the bottom floor... This one has a nightclub and an indoor amusement park,” he pointed out. “And none of his usual traps, either. Everything looks totally normal. It’s just… an entertainment complex?”

Amy looked puzzled. “So, what, he’s an entrepreneur now?” 

Knuckles leaned back against the wall, looking up in thought. “He’s gotta be hiding something.” 

“Yeah,” Tails agreed. “And by the looks of it, this photo was taken on the day we battled- you know.”

The team turned to look at Metal. He gazed at each of them momentarily, noting their concerned expressions. “Metal,” Amy said, “Do you remember anything from that day? Before Tails and I found you?” He’d scanned what little was left of his memory enough times to know the answer. Metal shook his head right away, being met with disbelief from Knuckles.

“I don’t buy it. Metal Sonic has to be a spy- why else would he be here?”

“Knuckles, there's no way,” Amy looked to Tails for support. “You searched through all his stuff, right? He doesn’t remember anything.”

Tails half-nodded. “Well, yeah- to my knowledge. There was a lot of encrypted data- but it’s inaccessible in theory. He definitely can’t be tracked, though.”

“So how can we be sure then?” Knuckles returned.

“I trust Amy’s judgement,” Sonic said with a matter-of-fact tone. Surprised to hear him admit it to the team, Amy’s face softened into a look of admiration as she faced him. He probably should have felt grateful for the support, but Metal was displeased with Sonic’s playful wink back at her. “Besides, what’s Eggman gonna find out if he is spying? That we have no clue what he’s up to?”

Sonic had a point. There was silence as the team sat in thought, each pondering about possible scenarios or trying to come up with a plan of action. Metal could see this going on for an hour. He didn’t remember anything from that day, but he might if something jogged his memory. So, he tapped his sharp fingers against the ground and Amy’s ears perked up.

“Oh! That’s right,” she sat up straight. “Metal was able to remember the day Sonic and I met him when I told him about it. Maybe we can tell him about...” Her posture immediately became hunched when she realized what it meant. She recalled how broken his body still was inside, a sense of guilt casting down on her.

Tails’ eyes widened with excitement. “No kidding? I gotta take a look at him again!”

“More importantly,” Sonic added, “we gotta tell him about that battle and see if he remembers anything.”

Knuckles chimed in. “How do we know Metal Sonic won’t suddenly remember some objective to, I don’t know, kill us?”

The way they spoke about him like he wasn’t in the room did nothing to make Metal feel welcome. He knew he’d be far from their acceptance, but being viewed as an object to be poked and prodded was far more demeaning. Trust could be earned, but would they ever see him as something other than a machine? Amy kept calling him a friend. So what did it mean that she kept his “modifications” a secret?

“Metal,” Amy interrupted the boys’ musings, “would you be okay with that?” She side-eyed her teammates as she continued. “We wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

He returned with a lazy shrug, looking away from the others. Reliving a defeat at the hands of these people- the people he was meant to associate with, who were suddenly giving him reasons to be distrustful- he wasn’t sure how he’d feel. It wasn’t about losing his weapons; after all, he hadn’t needed them since Amy found him. If asked now, he would disarm himself willingly as long as he was staying with her. But perhaps his debt of gratitude amounted to more than accompanying her on trips and helping her down from high places. Now, it felt like Amy’s kindness could come at the expense of his autonomy. It was hardly a fair choice. Metal wished he was anywhere but that burrow.

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Amy assured him. Knuckles looked like he was about to say something but she jabbed her elbow in his side again, rendering his complaint into an intelligible grumble. Metal wasn’t responding. He looked aloof, casting his gaze sideways to avoid eye contact. Amy had seen that look in him before, quickly recognizing his discomfort. She picked herself up and crossed the circle to meet Metal at the other side, kneeling next to him. “Hey,” Amy placed a hand on his shoulder, “remember that you can choose from now on, right?” She leaned in close to whisper. “We’ll talk about the other stuff after the meeting, promise.”

There was something in her kind voice and gentle touch that continued to stir him. Amy’s warmth seeped into Metal’s steely joints and melted his icy façade until he could no longer guard himself against her. She could give him all the choices in the world, but obliging Amy was quickly turning into a compulsion; one that, he suddenly realized, was about more than just his gratitude. Pleasing her seemed to bring him an unexpected and immeasurable satisfaction; It was inexplicable. He would endure any manner of painful memory if she only asked him to- but she wasn’t asking. She wouldn’t. Metal had to decide for himself. He considered all her kindness, yet wasn’t any happier about the “other stuff,” as she put it. It was as painful as it was confusing.

Tails’ worried voice shook Metal from his daze. “Hey, is he okay?” The uncomfortably long silence that had filled the room was impeded only by the whirring crescendo of Metal’s engine. He caught sight of Amy’s concerned stare first, then the vexed faces of the rest of the team. 

“Do you... need a minute?” she asked hesitantly.

Metal quickly shook his head, wanting to get all their peering eyes off of him.

Amy sighed as her hand left his shoulder. “Metal, do you want to hear about the battle the other day? It’s okay if you don’t.” He nodded hesitantly to no one in particular, reasoning that he may as well remember what he could. It wasn’t the answer Amy was hoping to hear. A grimace spread across her face as she immediately began thinking of tactful ways to approach the story. Before the pause had a chance to become awkward, Sonic chimed in.

“Alright, so here’s how we kicked your-”

“Sonic!” Amy sent her piercing glare at him once more. 

“What? That’s what happened,” Sonic grinned. He caught Metal rolling his eyes.

“I can tell it, Amy,” Tails chimed in. Amy responded with a begrudging nod and he continued. “So, late afternoon, we received a distress call about Eggman and Metal causing a fuss close to town. We expected to find more of his badniks hanging around, but it was just you and him there. You’d set off a few missiles at some rocks-”

“Eggman said you were just doing ‘target practice,’ trying to sound innocent” Knuckles scoffed.

“Right. So, we told him to get lost, but he said he wasn’t doing anything wrong and ordered Metal to continue-”

“I intercepted and shot the next missile right back at you,” Sonic cut in with a smirk. “Really set you off.”

Tails nodded. “Then you two started fighting. Eggman said something about you finishing practice on your own and took off, which was weird, ‘cause he usually sticks around. Anyway, Sonic and Metal headed into the valley, so I sort of followed you…”

“Then you broke Tails’ wrist,” Sonic commented, looking directly at Metal. “Right, Ames?” Amy frowned apologetically and answered with a shrug. 

“Yeah...” Tails continued. “But anyway-”

Knuckles interrupted impatiently. “You flew up the hillside and Amy knocked Sonic into you with her hammer. End of battle,” he grunted. “So do you remember anything or what?”

An immense guilt befell Amy the moment her name left his lips. Metal watched as she avoided looking at him, fidgeting with the tassels on her scarf anxiously. Battles aren’t friendly- Metal didn’t fault her for attacking him when they were enemies. The story actually impressed him where she was concerned, but it didn’t give him the epiphany that Amy’s tale had. He remembered nothing.

“Well?” Knuckles insisted.

Metal turned to him and shook his head plainly.

“Tch. What a waste of time…”

“Back to the drawing board,” Sonic remarked.

Tails looked back at the newspaper with a smiling Eggman on the cover. “The battle was probably just to keep us from crashing this party. Eggman knew we’d come after him if he caused a racket, then he ran off when we were distracted so we couldn’t interrupt. I guess he really wasn’t doing anything other than making noise, though.”

Sonic yawned lazily. “You make it sound like we started the fight.”

“We kinda did,” Amy mumbled under her breath.

Sonic stood up, stretching his arms. “Well, nothing we can do about this now. We’ll just have to keep an eye on it.”

“Calling a meeting with no plan,” Knuckles followed, “typical.”

“Hey, I want us all to be on guard. There’s no telling what scheme this could lead to. We’d better be ready.”

“I’m always ready!” Knuckles boomed. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve been away long enough waiting for all of you to show up.” He marched across to stand over Amy, offering her a hand. She pulled herself up with Metal following her lead. “So you’re keeping an eye on Metal Sonic.” he grinned at her proudly. “Pretty brave, kid.” She clicked her tongue at him, giving him a lighthearted shove. Knuckles turned his attention to Metal’s looming figure with narrowing eyes. “I’d better be wrong about you.”

Metal knew that her teammate’s suspicions were justified and it would be hard to prove him otherwise. He crossed his arms and gave Knuckles a single nod. Knuckles returned with a nod of his own before glancing down at the rose-shaped patch on the front of Metal’s jacket with an amused scoff. He waved himself out before Amy had a chance to become aggrieved over it.

“Long way to fly for such a short meeting,” Tails sighed from across the room. He gathered his things hastily and booked it toward the front. “Let’s head back, I have something I gotta finish.”

“Right behind you, buddy.” Sonic made his way across. “Ames?”

She leaned her body towards Metal. “Actually, could you give us a minute?” 

Sonic’s brow furrowed. “Shouldn’t you guys get going?”

Before Amy could respond, Metal draped an arm over her shoulder. Their eyes met and he cocked his head sideways confidently. Amy got the message. “Well, if you’re sure…” she turned back to her teammates. “Why don’t you guys take the plane? Metal can give me a ride.” 

Tails and Sonic looked at each other in confusion. “I guess,” Tails said. “Do you want a ride?”

Sonic shifted to look back at Metal. How the robot managed to look cocky even with his usual expression, he did not know. At the risk of losing another staring contest, Sonic gave Amy a wave and started toward the exit. “Sounds good. Catch ya later.” Amy returned the wave as he and Tails went off,  Metal straightening himself back up once they were out of sight.

Amy then exhaled so severely that her entire body slumped. She didn’t think she’d ever feel so tense around her friends, and having kept the meeting mostly civil was an incredible relief. Unfortunately, there was another can of worms to deal with. She just managed to suppress a groan before addressing it.

“Thanks for coming, Metal. You did great today; But I thought Knuckles was gonna lunge at you for sure,” she chuckled. In a rather puffed up manner, with a hand at his hip, Metal gave her a sly shrug. Amy couldn’t keep from snorting at how pleased he looked with himself. “Don’t look so smug, he’s beat you up before,” she teased. He turned back to her with a resentful chime. It was incredible to Amy how comfortable they were together- she never would have expected to become such fast friends with a former (and very recent) enemy. But there they were, a few days into their new relationship, cordial and playful as if lifelong friends. All this even as they both knew a serious topic was approaching. She braced herself, her eyes cast down nervously.

“I’m sorry, Metal. I know taking your things was wrong. I blamed Tails, but I never really said anything, and then I kept it from you- but I’ll make sure you get everything back.” She twiddled her fingers together.

The sincere apology made Metal want to forgive her immediately, but the strange hurt he still felt didn’t allow him to. It didn’t make sense- he wasn’t angry anymore, she apologized, he understood their fear was not unfounded; so why couldn’t he feel okay about it? It may have been the realization that being autonomous wouldn’t be the same for him- how could it be? As quickly as she warmed up to him, even Amy didn’t see him as a person right away.  Maybe some never would. It wouldn’t be fair to rely on her advocacy, either- counting on her to mediate every tense situation was hardly freedom. And then there was the worry that his only affection for Amy was out of an innate need for guidance. 

Pulling the notepad from his pocket, Metal scribbled some words down. He ripped the leaf from its binding to hand to her. Amy glanced up at him momentarily before taking it. “You didn’t ask,” it read.

“I know I’m sorry,” she sighed. “Do you think you would’ve said yes?”

Metal pondered for a moment. He would have weighed his options at the time, but the moment had passed and he wasn’t so sure now. One thing was certain, however: if she’d asked him now, he wouldn’t think twice before agreeing. Metal handed her the next note with some hesitation as he admitted this. “You can ask for anything” was written neatly on it.

Amy didn’t know what to say. It was incredibly kind, but only made her feel more guilty that she had betrayed his trust early on. “Then, I guess I’ll ask you to forgive me- if you can.” Her ears drooped as the words grew ever remorseful. “And for hurting you, too. I feel like it's my fault you lost your memory in the first place.”

But that wasn’t something he would have to forgive her for. Instead, he carefully wrote his feelings, tearing the leaf from its binding gently. Metal locked eyes with her as he nervously placed it in her hand. “Thank you for finding me.”

She didn’t have an opportunity to respond. The second Amy looked up, Metal closed the gap between them, pulling her close into a hug. Her face flushed as a small gasp escaped her lips. Before she knew it, she was returning his embrace tenderly. “Dummy- I’m trying to apologize here,” she protested, though her swishing tail seemed to contradict any complaints. There were few things Amy enjoyed more than friendly affection, and considering the incredible embarrassment she felt after their last hug, she relished in his readiness to hold her. “I’m glad we found each other, too.”

As they slid away from one another, Amy combed through the front of her hair, pulling it over to conceal her blushing cheeks. “You know, this isn’t even the first time I find you in the snow…”  Metal tilted his head curiously, so she continued. “Well, first time, it was a couple of years after we met. You’d been laying there a while- actually, I think it was after Knuckles took back the Master Emerald from you. He can really throw a punch,” she chuckled. “But you know, you seemed so sad. We were enemies then, but I helped you get back home because, well, I guess I thought it would change things. Don’t know if it really made a difference, though.”

Defeat. Snow. Amy’s mercy and kindness. It was like déjà vu; Metal could suddenly remember each encounter individually, the earliest of which was just as vivid a memory as the most recent. He dropped the notepad and pen and took her hands excitedly, looking into her widening eyes. An exuberant smile spread across Amy’s face in realization.

“You remember!” Her fingers tightened around his delicately. “I don’t know what happened after that, but, I hope it’s a happy memory for you.”

He recalled how indifferently he acted toward her help then. He knew who Amy was, but whatever memory he possessed of their first encounter had been gutted. All he remembered as she dragged him through the snow was holding her captive and being defeated. No empathetic smile, no tarot reading, no kind words- she was just a footnote in his files by the time she found him; just like had been a few days ago. Though he had scarcely tried to communicate with her, the unfamiliar comfort her care provided compelled him to relent. And despite how unresponsive he had been Amy still lent him her aid. She’s offered him a hand time and time again without holding it over him. Perhaps that was why all the small ways in which he returned the favor brought him such pleasure.

Metal nodded. He didn’t remember anything after she left his side then, but finally understanding the mixed emotions that went through his head that cold day did bring him joy. It was close enough.

“I’m glad…” Amy sheepishly unlatched her fingers from his and clasped her hands in front of her face, concealing her rosy cheeks. “I guess… we should head home? We can take off from where we landed.”

Metal turned toward the exit, impulsively offering Amy his arm. She looked astonished for a moment before latching onto him with a giggle.

“Where did you learn to be a gentleman? I’m surprised you have it in you.” 

Metal’s smug tones and exaggerated head-bobbing gave her more to laugh and tease him about as they made their way out and through the forest. He didn’t mind. Every time they started back to Amy’s house together, it felt more like home.

---

Everything in the burrow echoed and could be heard from the outside if one knew where to listen from; And Knuckles knew just the spot. “About time,” he grumbled, watching as the pair sauntered out of sight from behind a thick tree trunk. He re-entered the space to find Metal’s pen and notepad left behind on the ground. So that’s how he was communicating. Annoyed that they had left their trash behind, Knuckles picked up both items with the intention of throwing them in the bin, but stopped when he noticed a short note written on the first page. He grinned as he read it. Probably knows I was listening, he thought. It didn’t really come as a surprise that Metal left it behind for Knuckles to find, but the words and their sentiment were unexpected.

He ripped the page out of the book to keep. Knuckles would have to hold Metal to his word: “I will prove you wrong.”

..................................................................................................................

hi babes~ how are you all doing this cursed election week?

i’m uhhh not 100% satisfied with this chapter but i’m sick of looking at it so here she is! also obviously i’m obsessed to death with the mania adventures short because where else are we getting our canon metamy crumbs

((yes i could have picked one of several canon names for the amusement park yes i decided to call it magic city because i’m from miami (: fight me abt it))

[merryfortune]

Day 9 /Sunflower

Clover and Violets 2021

Ship: Resurrectshipping | Catherine/Cyndia 

Universe: Duel Monsters

Word Count: 1,548

Rating: T

Tags: Pre-Canon, Adultery, Internalised Homophobia, Questioning, Missed Connections, Alcohol & Cigarettes

   The show had been fantastic. A vivacious shower of glitter and sparkly lights. It had completely and utterly taken Cyndia’s breath away. She couldn’t believe it. She was the sole person in the crowd who stood on both her feet, both her little kitty cat high heels, giving the magician and his stagehand a standing ovation.

   “Darling,” Pegasus hissed, “people are staring.” He leaned in hard to his lover.

   Cyndia huffed and she shook off his pet name for her as well as his sudden and unusual care for his - their or maybe just her - image. He had never cared for people staring so why was it an issue now?

   “Let them.” Cyndia told him, firm but under her breath.

   Pegasus shook out the ruffles of his own malcontent and Cyndia continued to applaud the end of the show. She was breathless as the thick, velvet curtains fell close with a swank and a swish. She grinned and she stood still where people were already perhaps a little too quick to leave.

   “We should see if they would let us backstage.” Cyndia excitedly suggested.

   “I do not believe that Pandora man is worth the time.” Pegasus sighed and shrugged.

   Cyndia groaned. “Oh, please, what do we have to lose?” she insisted and she knew damn well it wasn’t the magician man himself whom she was enamoured with. 

   He would never spill the secrets of his magic but there was a possibility someone else would. Someone with long, slender legs and silky, golden hair and luscious lips and wore fishnets and a bunny suit without the ears. Oh, Cyndia was blushing a rose pink just thinking about her. And how she could never tell her fiance about her feelings, as sudden and effervescent as they were. They were too out there but she wouldn't exactly say that she felt paid attention to by Pegasus right now.

   He rolled his eyes. “Anything for my wife to be, I am nothing but a slave to my passion for you, Cyndia.” he declared in his whimsical, airy voice. It seemed contradictory and it was but Cyndia let him be.

   Wearily, Pegasus got up and Cyndia began to sashay out the side of the seating. They trekked down the velour handled steps and with a flash of his cash, Pegasus got Cyndia the little present which she was after. She was so excited to be backstage of the casino with the magician and his assistant. 

   The walls were neater than they thought, a pastel orange with noticeable yellow hues, maybe a sepia. The trims were cream and looked just as frothy in their architecture. The doors were studded with buzzing lights and the like. Coming inside, it was an olfactory attack of chintzy perfumes and hair spray.

   “I’m always happy to meet my fans.” Pandora boasted.

   “How wonderful.” Cyndia said through gritted teeth. She flashed Catherine a look but Catherine looked away from her.

   She tucked a strand of her hair back behind her ear; the glitzy jewel in the stud of her earring caught the fluorescent light and dazzled Cyndia all over again. She wanted to get a little bit closer and to do that, she put her hands on Pegasus’s arm.

   “Say, dearest,” she began saccharine, “I’d love to get some make-up tips from Miss Catherine there, why don’t you and Pandora go take a light outside, hm?”

   Pandora laughed. “Does it really shine through my being that I’m a smoker?” he asked.

   “You reek, darling, of smoke. Anyone could make an educated guess about your bad habits.” Catherine giggled.

   “That I do, that I do. But I didn’t peg you for a smoking man, Crawford.” Pandora said, all too loudly.

   “Only cigars, of which I have a few and some, I’m even happy to share if you feel so inclined.” Pegasus said.

   “I’ll take the ones you don’t like out of your case, if you would be so kind.” Pandora offered.

   With that, the men were conveniently shuffled out of the backroom and now it was just the women and it wasn’t exactly the quiz show live connection that Cyndia had been hoping for it. It was actually a little bit awkward. A terse atmosphere of stolen glances and listening to tinny casino music emanate down from the main of the building. But Cyndia didn’t want to waste her chance with such a beautiful woman.

   She inched closer but Catherine played the role of a fortune teller. She stood tall, in her high heels with red soles, and held onto a chair, keeping her back straight and her diaphragm as tight as a drum.

   “Having relationship problems?” she asked.

   “Only a little.” Cyndia confessed. “You?”

   “Me too.” Catherina professed in equal admittance. “I can’t solve mine so don’t go hoping I can solve yours.”

   “Is it that obvious?” asked Cyndia, cringing at her own naivete. 

   “Like you wouldn’t believe.” Catherine lamented. Her expression, particularly in her eyes which were a honey brown colour and they looked melancholic yet snide. “I just wish he would stop spendin’ money we don’t have on his darts.”

   “I just wish that Pegasus would look at me and see a person. Sometimes, I swear, he looks right past me.” Cyndia said.

   Catherine sighed. She searched the vanity but quickly found what she wanted. A bottle of purebred Tennessee whiskey. It had sunflowers on the label and looping typography for its brand. Catherine didn’t pop the cap on it but she let the drink inside, a gorgeous amber, swirl against the glass.

   “Cheers to terrible men.” Catherine said.

   “And cheers to the women who put up with them.” Cyndia added and Catherine smirked. “I just think your really pretty.” Cyndia kept talking and now she was sounding like she was a child;; she chastised herself for it. “I’ve never felt that way about a girl before, you know?”

   “Mm, it is a bit confusing.” Catherine agreed.

   Finally, she did pop the cap on that whiskey and she turned it over. It would make a fine tumble glass. She’d take a drink and then Cyndia would take a drink. That would be all, or at least that’s what Catherine thought.

   Only, Cyndia came closer. She had such a peculiar way of walking. It was almost like she was floating, like a bubble, like a ghost. She laced her fingers over the bottle of whiskey, over Catherine’s hands and Catherine’s heart did something unexpected. It skipped a beat. She let Cyndia steal a sip straight from the lips. The taste of it singed her mouth, she winced and Catherine hiccupped as a laugh.

   But it wasn’t just the whiskey that Cyndia sampled - and Catherine let her taste it as well. The taste of her own kiss and it was everything that Cyndia had hoped for. It was plasticine and rosy. The only shame was how the taste of that whiskey burned her but she liked it. It was something different and it was something intoxicating. It smudged her nude pink lipstick on the way back. On the not quite retreat because Cyndia wanted to kiss Catherine more but it didn’t seem appropriate. She wanted a taste, a sampling, not to be drunk and especially not drunk with things she couldn’t have forever.

   “Thank you.” Cyndia whispered.

   “No worries.” Catherine replied, taking a swig of whiskey from the rim of the whiskey, unbothered but she thought it sweeter than when she had been drinking with her boyfriend. 

   The moment lingered somewhere far away from saccharine, thank goodness, Catherine thought. She drank a little bit more; Cyndia declined, happy to watch and even envy the whiskey droplets on the cupid’s bow of Catherine’s sublime lips.

   The men respective to their lives returned sooner than they thought. Neither of them noticed how their leading ladies had smudged lipstick. Both lied too expertly, like starlet actresses with a script, about what they had talked about. Already concealing their feelings.and going back to how they had been before. Before they had been imperfect strangers. Stealing glances; barely acknowledging one another save for the indirect.

   But gosh did Catherine savour that whiskey one last time as she and Pandora said goodbye to their impromptu guests. She was chided as rude but Cyndia wanted to disagree. She didn’t. But she did steal one last look and finally, their gazes met and for a moment, it was like starlight. 

   What exactly was stopping them from running away, they could go and join a circus together, it couldn’t be that hard. Catherine was already halfway there as a stagehand to a second rate magician and as a toy company aficionado's human toy, Cyndia wasn’t all that faraway either but they didn’t.

   They just bid each other their ados with the sour knowledge this was it and all they it would be. And they felt like sunflowers trying not to wither. Cyndia had to look at Pegasus; Catherine had to look at Pandora; they were just sunflowers following the suns that their lives already presently revolved around. Because that’s all that sunflowers could do. Stop and stare; steal glances and other longing gazes. But that wouldn’t stop them from being wistful for other stars and flames they might have been able to have kindled in another life. 

[bluestmoons]

1. alias/name: Serena!

2. birthday: February 3rd!

3. zodiac sign: Aquarius! 

4. height: 5′8"? I literally don’t know I have no idea, but I’m tall-ish 

5. hobbies: RP!!! Umm,,, I don’t know what counts as hobbies, but! Playing Sims! Making up stories/characters! Learning German! Transcribing! Making friends!  

6. favorite colors: PINK, orange/gold, green, and purple! 

7. favorite books: I always say “my own” and Inkheart by Cornelia Funke so let’s go with that!! I haven’t read a real book in a bit though. 😭

8. last song listened to: “why do you feel so down?” by Declan McKenna ( JKLFDJAKLFDA ONE IN THE SAME... )

9. last film or show watched: Kimi no Suizou wo Tabetai! 

10. inspiration for muse: I think most people would just pick one muse but let me just go down the list and pick things that remind me of/inspire me about my muses and/or why I picked them up!  ELSA: Purples and blues, cold weather and forests, dizzying castles, tinkling bells, snow and ice ( duh?? ), icicles, Norwegian patterns, deep purple velvets, isolation, the scratch of a quill, and the taste of tears. She reminded me a lot of my childhood. ERK: Purple silk and burlap, old books, exhaustion, disgust, burning hands. He reminds me a lot of one of my husband’s characters.  ERIC: Bright white sand and green-blue seas, cream castles, the taste of salt and the feel of rope, wet dog smell, the deck of a ship at sea, sunlight, parenthood. I love his goofy light-heartedness.  FINIS: Feathers, sheer clothing, long hair, tears caught in eyelashes, sad arias, inky quills against parchment, repetitive motions, purple flowers, a broken body that never shatters, fire, bloody throats, overwhelming sorrow, the concept of immortality, the feel of grass between toes, small boxes, cages, deep breaths, immeasurably empty/lonely, the depths of the ocean, moons!!, comets, blue-white, gray. I’m literally in love with her, so.  ICHIGO: Serious focus, the scrape of metal, uncontainable emotion, logic, hair clips and short hair, dark blue and green, obsessive thought, quick footsteps, position and pain of leadership, strawberries and the number 15, sweet tastes, ache of desperation, regrettable words yelled in the heat of the moment, small stature. I mostly picked her up in step with Kristopher picking up Goro but I love my little kiddo so much... so short, so powerful...  ITSUKI: Nice cologne, athleticism, nice big watches, subterfuge, smells, loss of personal space, pretty boys, lightning/static, unrequited longing, eyes closed, green and hazel, basil, silent admiration, Othello. I genuinely picked him up the moment I realized he was an empath because I have a type. :,)   IZETTA: Nomadic existence, bare and dirty feet, the smell of sweat and hard work, loud compassion, hope, unevenly cut hair, red and gold, cheap clothing, white costumes, early rising, warm metal, inferiority complex, total devotion and dedication. I knew I needed to write her so I could steal some of her positivity...  IZUMI: High fashion, business casual, stockings and high heels, earrings and nose rings, frost, dual-bladed naginata, the shine of metal in the dark, sold souls, sibling love, obsession with perfection, fish tanks, a home without any distinct smell, self-imposed isolation, fluorescent lighting, purples and blues. I don’t know, Izumi is one of my favorite characters from Kyoukai no Kanata, I always knew I had to pick her up.  LEONIE: Sun shining on dry ground, the feel and breath of the earth, refined chaos, green tea, large vocabularies, strange speech patterns, dry wit, sons, secrets, old books with a flower bookmark, the muddy bottom of a lake, frogs, red fingers and cheeks, old swords, dirty gold embellishments, empty and untouched rooms, freckles!!!!, spinning sword moves, honor, old armor, repeating words said just earlier, unflattering and unfashionable garments, blonde braids, running away running away running away. She’s an OC, so!! I fell in love with her on my own!! I decided to pick her up after Kristopher and I were discussing the Reed mom and I realized oh God, I have a whole idea... MIRAI: Pinks and golds, blues and blacks, vintage chic ( “grandma style”, as I lovingly call it ), red frames, serious expressions, overt politeness, depression, bandaged wrists and palms, gold rings, bloody hands, the taste of iron, burning hot blood, monster/demons, unpleasantness, distaste and disgust, starvation, empty shitty apartments, bonsai, gardening, social media and anon hate, sacrifice, orphan, self-loathing. God I just... I’d die for her okay... I... wow... I gathered the courage to pick her up after I loved her for years.  SAKURA: Toddler clothing style on a high schooler, cooking, food, sleep, oversized flannels, tired eyes and cheeks, aromantic, succinct speech, big scarves, wide stripes, lime green and red, crumbs, bandaids, bag like a mom’s purse ( full of napkins and tissues and food and keys and totally unorganized ), memories, forgiveness, sarcasm, bells, kicking, sisterhood. MMMMM I LOVE MY QUIET SLEEPY DAUGHTER!!! I picked her up because I just... vibe with her energy, I love her.  SERRA: PINKS and whites, cleanly pressed clothing, loud echoing voice, devoted and steadfast religion, bright white magic, attention-seeking, loneliness, nunneries, rosaries, The Sound of Music tbh, glitter, make-up, pigtails, tears over a chipped nail, devotion to valuing oneself, dedication to becoming the best, volatile emotions, absolute joy or unbridled anger, cherry blossom perfume, rosy red joints, stringy hair, memorization of etiquette, adventure-lust, friend-seeking. I love her so much -- she reminds me of Willow, and when I saw her on my replay of the game, I burst into tears.  URSULA: Blacks and deep purples and blues, fine wine, tight fabric, velvet skin, sharp and entrancing gaze, crows, black feathers, leather gloves, mocking simper, blood red lipstick, neutral colored fashion, lies, sharp perfume, manipulation, gold chains, the click of high heels, short dark hair, shadowy silence. I made this blog for Ursula! I knew I could play her and Kristopher wanted to write opposite of her so I threw her out here! 

11. story behind url: The original thought was that I’d be here way less frequently than my other blogs. Once every blue moon I’d check in on here. Hence, bluestmoons! 

tagged by: @myloyalty​ ( thank you my love!!! ) 

tagging: okay I know this is a copout but I spent so long doing 10,,, please,,, just steal it, I can’t look at this anymore, JKFLAJK 

[dorevenge]

where ignorance is bliss - chapter 4: except the willow

SUMMARY: Maria is forcefully escorted from the betting room, when she encounters the owner of the casino himself.  [AO3 LINK]

CHAPTERS: 1 2 3 [4] 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 ☆

November 20, 1959 – Monaco, France, The Hellfire Club

I’ve never thought about my what last words would be. I had always assumed I would be 98, having aged better than brie, lying in bed surrounded by my family, my curls perfectly falling around my face, with a pristine pale pink lipstick and pearls on my neck and diamonds on my ears. I’d have outlived my husband, as I’ve always flocked towards older men, but I would see him reflected in my great-grandchildren, one of whom would have shared my philanthropic interests. I’d leave them all with some well-planned poetry, a single sentence that would change every one of their lives, resound in them and inspire them to change their actions for the better, but, as of now, due to my arrogant foolishness, my last words were to be “I’d rather stay here and keep losing.” And no one would remember them.

Thick arms wrap around mine, hiking me up by the armpits, and I am escorted out of the casino and through the hotel lobby, my high heels scrambling to make purchase on the ground below me. The few people scattered in the lobby pause to look at me, and then keep walking. The fun from the baccarat game has dwindled, the rosiness falling from my cheeks and panic settling in my chest. I couldn’t pull against them; there’s no way I could win in a fight even with some of Peggy’s training. I should have taken her up on her thigh holster offer.

The men stop briefly at the front desk. “What room is Ms. Carbonell staying in?”

“Obadiah won’t let you get away with this,” I grit, my arms pinned behind my back.

“Mr. Stane is currently preoccupied.” One of the men asks for a spare key, and the desk attendant fumbles in the cabinet to find the correct one.

A man in glasses walks past, tall but not intimidating, broad-shouldered but not bulky, nose buried in a pile of papers in his hands, and glances up, pausing to evaluate the scene. Our eyes make contact, and it takes him a second to evaluate my panic.

“Do you need any help, madam?”

“She’s fine,” one of the suited men replies. I’m too startled to scream, or speak, or even think at all. All I can hope is that someone in the lobby reads my face and intervenes. Grumbling, they forgo the key, and pull me out of the hotel lobby towards the parking lot.

This is how I’m going to die, I think, reminiscing what a waste finishing school was since I never learned to hold my tongue anyway, and it is my penchant for petty remarks sending me to an early grave. I can’t keep up with their pace, my high heels catching in almost every dent in the asphalt, and I almost lose my balance several times.

We approach a long, sleek black car with darkened windows, and I finally start calling out, “Obie! Obadiah!” to the empty parking lot, writhing against the arms around me.

“Ms. Carbonell! I think you dropped an earring.” The voice comes from behind. It’s the man in glasses, walking swiftly, with authority, except for the little cowlick of dark black hair on the right side of his head, twirling in the breeze as he stalks forward.

The men holding me turn to confront him as he takes off his glasses and slides them into his breast pocket. The men’s postures drop and their faces fall. Their grip on me lessens. He runs a hand through his hair and stares them down.

“Mr. Stark.”

“Release Ms. Carbonell at once.”

“We’re sorry, Mr. Stark, she-”

“You do know what at once means, don’t you, boys?”

They release me.

“I cannot apologize enough, Ms. Carbonell, for the behavior of these men. If they offend you again, I will personally write to their employers.” He looks at each one of them sternly, in turn.

One of the men stiffens defiantly. “We didn’t recognize you, Mr. Stark. In the betting room-”

“When you are the one who owns the casino, only then should you be concerned about its finances.” Stark’s stern face softens when he turns to me, offering me his elbow. He nods at each man with authority, and they shrink away. My heart is still racing, and I still must not be thinking straight, because I loop my arm through his, my life in the hands of yet another stranger.

-

The dinner at one of the restaurants inside Hellfire is delectable, but dining with the owner probably helps. There were too many options on the menu that I eventually pointing to something at random and ordered that. I had very little to say, besides non merci to the waiters who kept offering us champagne and thanking Mr. Stark for his kindness. The anxiety has set into my bones and I can’t help but fidget.

“I already told you, Maria, just call me Howard.” Up close, I can see that he’s older, probably in his forties. Creases line his eyes and mouth, probably from charming the pants off too many investors, and the investors’ wives.

“Okay, Howard, does wearing glasses actually work? To go unnoticed.” I peer at him over the top of my waterglass.

“It does. Works wonders. I had read about it in a comic and wanted to give it a try. People act different when their boss is lurking around the corner, and sometimes I just want to be a guest in my own hotel.”

A waitress clears Howard’s empty plate, leaving my full one, and she brings the dessert menu to him. Without looking at it, he hands it back to her, ordering two beignets. She asks if we need anything else, chest puffed high and smiling bright, and Howard responds in near-perfect French without looking away from me. The waiter walks away, dejected, her hopes of charming the billionaire dashed.

I pick at the dish, too rich for my current anxious appetite. My anxiety hadn’t run out of fuel yet. “What’s eating you, doll?”

“Why were those men watching me? And where were they going to take me? I wasn’t cheating.”

“I know you weren’t cheating.”

“You know? How?”

“There are cameras everywhere in the game rooms, tiny ones in lamps and plants and around every corner. They can tell when someone is cheating, and your moves seemed very intentional. And putting money in my pocket isn’t exactly cheating.” I don’t ask how the cameras would be able to tell, as I’ve been to two of his expos now and haven’t understood any of the gadgets presented. Any explanation would just go over my head. I wonder how many cameras litter the restaurant.

He doesn’t answer my question and instead asks one of his own. “Why were you spending your partner’s money like that?”

My partner. That’s right, I am technically in business with Obadiah; we’ve kept our short engagement to ourselves, and he’s always introduced me as his accountant. I slide my hands into my lap to hide the ring on my finger, and slide the ring off once it’s out of view. “My answer to your question might be the same as your answer to mine.”

Howard’s face lights up, and he leans forward on the table to get a better look at me. “So you’re clever, too, and not just pretty.” He doesn’t ask it like a question, but a statement, and I try with all my might not to blush like a child. The waitress returns and clears our plates, bringing the dessert he ordered. Howard leans back with a sigh. “I’ve kept my eye on Stane for the last few years. Not a bad man, but not a great one. Desperate. I was desperate, too, for a while, ‘til I realized the only thing that gets you anywhere is hard work. That’s how America does it.”

“He says while dining in France.”

“Hey, I paid for the meal in America dollars, doll.” His smile is wide, and honest, and youthful and endearing and… and it belongs to Howard Stark, notorious womanizer. Still, I find myself smiling in return, chin propped up in my hand, gazing at him. I can’t get caught up in his displays of wealth, but his confidence is something else. Obadiah isn’t confident like Howard. Howard has confidence to spare. He could bottle it and sell it, and convince everyone he met to buy it, that’s how confident he is. “How long are you in Monaco?”

“I leave November 22nd. Obadiah has had long meetings every day.”

“And because he leaves you alone in your room, you squander his earnings at the betting table in retaliation?” I look up at him, in surprise and defense, and he chuckles to himself.  “If I were him, I’d bring you to every meeting with me. You belong in the business room. What do you do at Stane International?”

“I keep the books. Accounting. I went to Columbia.” I want to impress him.

“And what do you do when you’re not working?”

“I work a lot with charities.”

“When you’re not working.”

“I suppose I dine with handsome strangers in foreign hotels.”

Howard takes one bite of the dessert delivered, then wipes his hands and rises to his feet. “Let’s go have some fun, Maria.”

-

“You’re only here for one more full day, is that right?” Howard asks me from the rooftop of the Hellfire Club. “Spend it with me. Obadiah won’t mind.”

He’s right; Obie wouldn’t even notice, and I don’t feel guilty for accepting. “What do you have in mind?”

We sit up there for hours, talking until sunset, the wind licking at his hair, teasing it from the gel. The soft colors of dusk make Howard look younger. I want to kiss him, I realize, and I’ve never wanted to kiss anyone before. At least, not like this. I push the feeling down deep. Every woman wants to kiss Howard Stark, with his deep brown eyes and his even deeper pockets. And if he wants to kiss me, he’ll have to work for it.

As if reading my mind, he whispers, “God, Maria, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. I’d give it all up just to kiss you.”

“Does that line usually work?” I turn away. I feel like a child in his gaze, naïve and eager.

“I don’t know. I’ve never used it before.” I don’t look at him, but I can feel his eyes on me. I fix my gaze hard on the horizon in front of me. After a moment, “Actually, I take it back. I don’t want to kiss you until I’ve earned it. I want to do right by you, Maria. I’ll become an honest man for you.”

I want to believe him, but I also believe the stories. I don’t know what makes me so special in Howard’s eyes, but I feel more seen with him than I ever did with Obadiah, and it’s the last sign I need to leave him.

[beatlesqueen1960s1970s]

Kid!Queen: Wish Upon A Star

Tw: Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Domestic Violence

7-year-old Roger stood on his tippy toes peering out the window he grabs onto the window sill to see better the window blew his hair it had to only be 10 at night. He sighs and looks up to the sky squinting, "When you wish upon a star. Makes no diffe'ent who you are. Anything your heart d-desires. Will come to you.." Roger sings softly gripping the window sill. He hears his father and mother downstairs having their famous police getting called arguments the whole house seems to shake when they argue. Roger has been wishing since he was 3-years-old, at least his singing has gotten better.

Roger whimpers and looks towards the starry night sky, his blue eyes sparkle seeing a nice shiny star in the sky it seemed to shine brighter than all the others, "I-I wish daddy will leave mama alone... I-I can't take her boo boos anymore.. I hurt.... I-I also wish for a p-prince t-t-to come and get me. I-I want to be l-like Cinderella!''

He heard a scream of pure agony come from downstairs followed by a sickening thud, "ROGER, COME DOWN HERE!!" it was his father's voice Roger shudders and grabs his favourite blanket the one his mother made him.

"It sounds like he had too much adult juice" Roger thinks as his little body scampers out the window his blanket tied around him like a cape. The chilly fall air makes him shiver and the makeshift cape flutters weakly, "ROGER!! I'M GOING TO SNAP THAT FUCKING NECK OF YOURS WHERE ARE YOU??!!"

Roger tears up, "N-No, no." his foot slips and he goes soaring off the roof he twists and turns in the air. Roger covers his mouth many thoughts run through his head like who's going to protect mama, who's going to cook dinner if he's gone, who's going to clean the house, who's going to hide daddy's bottles? Roger thankfully lands in the neighbor's bushes and he only has a few scrapes and bruises, he looks up to the sky a sniffling mess. He thought all about the times he's wished and wished for daddy to go away and he hasn't, all the times he wished for someone to come save him... And then it clicks for his young mind, "I-Its all lies." he kicks at the ground with his bare foot kicking up some dirt, "W-Wishes isn't real." he cries and runs.

He didn't know where he was running too. He just keeps a grip onto his blanket and flees into the night his tiny body shakes adrenaline racing through his small body still. He stops at the park where he stayed at so often to get away from the noise, to get away from world war three. Roger shudders and sits on the bench wrapping the blanket around himself, his feet a muddy dirty mess with grass stuck to them. The chilly air made him shivering and shake.

"H-Hey!" a light nearly blinds him and the blond covers his eyes a little scared,

"Hey watch where ya shine that!"

A boy with tan skin steps out of the wooden area a big clunker of a flashlight in his hands he was followed by a boy with curly hair that was getting to be neck length on him, "You're new." the tan boy says, he had to be roughly 10 or 11, looked starved and in need of a bath.

The curly haired boy peeks over his shoulder, "I-Im B'ian."

"R-Roger." the blond sticks his hand out wether he was blushing from the cold or the boy, Roger thought Brian was very pretty, like a girl. Maybe this was his prince and the older boy was Brian's servant.

"Im Freddie." the tan boy tells him butting in.

Brian rolls his eyes grabbing the flashlight from Freddie, "Come on lets take him to ou' place."

Freddie takes Roger's hand and holds Brian's free hand. They walk hand and hand through the woods Roger clutches his blanket tighter to himself the woods look scary the tree shadows look like looming hands about to strangle him like his father did. Roger feet starts to hurt from the sticks and rocks, he believes he's gotten cuts on them but Roger's feet were numb from the cold by now. As Roger takes in more kf his surroundings he realizes he's never been this deep into the woods before, and he saw some new creatures he never saw before, like an owl who flew away once they got too close. As Roger drifts into his thoughts he bumps into Freddie's back the three stood outside a abandoned looking hunter's cabin, "Y-You live here?" Roger asks softly kinda amazed.

''Me, Brian, and Johnny live here." Freddie explains as he "unlocks" the door was a wooden key, "Johnny we're home!"

A three or so-ish tot lays in a makeshift crib teddies and plushies surround him. He nurses on a green turtle theme paci he looks happy to see his friends are back but he looks weary of Roger.

"Johnny this is Roger. Roger this is Johnny."

Roger waves and Johnny clings to his plushies.

"Uh.."

"He has uh, Brian what's that big word again?"

"Aspergers." Brian tells him.

Freddie snaps his fingers, "Yeah, ass-burgers!"

"No it's asper-," Brian rolls his eyes, "Forget it.'

"You said ass!" Johnny's tiny voice pipes up.

"So did you." Freddie giggles.

Johnny gasps and looks offended at himself he cross his arms and pouts.

Brian giggles and goes to him, "Does someone want num-nums?" Brian asks picking up Johnny with a struggle.

The toddler nods and bounces in Brian's arms making it even harder for the 9-year-old to carry him to the kitchen area.

"Well welcome to our home. Hopefully you can stay." Freddie says slinging an arm around Roger's shoulders.

Roger felt his face blush and looks away, "Yeah hopefully."  He removes bis blanket laying it onto one of the hay beds. Roger looks at Brian and his wonderful curls, pretty eyes, charming smile and then to Freddie big ears, dark cat like eyes, and messed up teeth reminded Roger of a donkey off of Pinocchio. Roger determines his prince, it was going to be Brian. Roger thinks back on what Disney taught him, princes are tall, skinny, nice teeth, and are white. So Roger picks Brian to be his prince since Freddie can never be a prince.

Roger watches as Brian helps Johnny feed himself. The tot struggles a little the poor boy seems to shake a lot and always looks to be on the verge of tears.

Brian helps Freddie make a small dinner of eggs stolen from a farmer and stolen meat from the butcher.

Roger was coloring then he looks up at them, "Do you watch Disney?"

"I use to." Brian said, "Then things got bad.. But now I'm here!"

"Yeah me too." Freddie says.

"Do you think princesses have babies?"

Freddie looks to Brian amd shrugs, "I guess."

"If I ever have a baby I'll name them Sam or maybe Rosy, or maybe Greyson?"

Johnny pipes up, "JJ!"

Brian giggles softly, "If I have a baby I'll name them Nicole if they're a girl for a boy, maybe Micheal? James?"

"If I have a kid," Freddie pipes in, "I'll name them Oreo."

"Why?" Roger asks.

"Because I'm hungry."

The room goes quiet after that. They eat and clean up,  Freddie goes over to the corner of the room once the kitchen stuff is done.

"Come on lets get ready for rest." Freddie says pulling out stolen toothpaste and toothbrushes from a bag, "Its 1AM."

Roger gasps, "That's the longest I've ever stayed up!" he bounces on his heels and ignores his body pain.

They all brush their teeth outside spitting and rinsing with well water. It tasted disgusting to Roger but the other boys didn't seem to mind. Freddie held Johnny's head and forced his mouth open as Brian scrubs Johnny's tiny teeth, "This is the only way." Freddie tells a stunned Roger, "He's also got his first loose tooth. "

"That's cool, my daddy made me lose my first tooth."

Freddie and Brian look at him in stun silence and Freddie noted how empty Roger's mouth was of teeth.

Roger whimpers and hurries back inside the "cold becoming too much for him". The other boys come inside moments later, "Night night, Johnny." Freddie says tucking him in. Roger watches as Freddie sings the boy to sleep he had a amazing singing voice, maybe Freddie was looking for his prince too? Roger got to share a hay bed with Brian the boys share Roger's blanket along with a blanket Brian had. Freddie and John shared one too, John gets cold easily now and they couldn't have him getting sick again.

After Brian put out the fireplace and snuggles into his blankets, long after Freddie and John were fast asleep, Roger rolls over and faces Brian.

"Hey, Brian?" Roger asks softly hearing John and Freddie's snores.

''Huh?' Brian replies sleepy.

"I know we only met hours ago."

He could feel Brian's hazel eyes staring at him, "W-Will you be my prince?"

Brian cuddles up to him nose in his hair, "Sure p'incess." there was no teasing just Brian trying to be caring.

Roger snuggles into him and closes his eyes he kinda felt happy. "Maybe wishes do come true" Roger thought, "I did get a prince and daddy's gone.."

Roger felt warm lips kiss the top of his head, "Night p'incess."

Roger smiles and snuggles closer to him relaxing, "Night prince.'' and he fall asleep feeling safe for the first time in his young life.

[13-reasons-ideas]

Finding Peace in Another Part 9

TW this chapter contains discussion of parental death and suicide. suicide not mentioned until after the cut. 

A/N: This chapter is very personal to me and it is where we learn just what prompted the move to Crestmont. I hope you enjoy. As always, feedback is appreciated. 

The next morning was far less eventful than the previous one. No surprise visitors, no almost revelations about a dead brother. Just us spending the morning together getting ready. I met him at school, and we shared a quick kiss before going to meet our friends. Monty met up with the boys and I spent some time with Alex and Clay before class. Alex and Clay were arguing about some comic book I had never heard of, but they tried to make me feel included in the conversation. I zoned out after a few minutes, thinking about what would happen if they found out about Montgomery and I. I know that Alex and Monty haven’t exactly had the best history. Alex had told me about the fights they got in and I was very aware of how Montgomery handled his emotions. Which, to put it bluntly, was essentially just to hit things until he felt better. “Hello? Becca? Earth to Rebecca?” I heard Clay call tapping me on the shoulder.

“Huh? What sorry?” I said, absentmindedly.

“I was just asking about what you did last night.” He said, looking at me strangely.

“Oh. Sorry, I just stayed in, had pizza and watched a movie. Just a me night.” I lied smoothly.

“Nice, what movie?” Alex asked.

“The Notebook.” I told him, picking my favourite sappy film. They both made a face and muttered something about chick flicks. We had walked to my locker, where I heard Bryce comment on the scratches on Montgomery’s back he saw yesterday before practice.

“No wonder you were so tired at practice yesterday. You were probably up most of the night. Who’s the lucky girl?” he asked, pushing Montgomery’s shoulder. I blushed into my locker and heard Alex make a sound of disgust at their discussion.

“Fuck you Standall, grownups are talking. No one you know. It doesn’t really matter. It was fun though. Ill probably see her again.” He said, trying to hide that it was me as we agreed. Bryce seemed surprised that he didn’t want to go into detail and even more surprised that he wanted to see the girl again. I heard Alex mutter something akin to ‘charming’ as Clay just stood there, looking very uncomfortable. I waved bye to my friends as Zach and I walked to class. I felt someone’s eyes on me as I walked away and felt a text, checking it I saw it was from Monty ‘I’ll definitely be seeing you again. By the way, you look hot today.’ I smiled as I put my phone away, feeling heat creep to my cheeks. Zach saw my blush and grinned at me.

“sssoooo… who’s the lucky guy? Or the lucky girl? I don’t judge.” He said in a singsong voice. I felt my blush grow deeper and laughed.

“It’s a guy. We um… we aren’t really telling anyone yet. We want to keep it to ourselves for a while. I am happy though. Happier than I’ve been in a long time.” Zach nodded in understanding.

“I get that, I’ve been there. Just make sure he doesn’t make you keep it a secret forever.” He told me as he sat in his seat. After class ended, I bid Zach goodbye and told him I would see him at lunch. I saw Tony in English and told him about what Montgomery and I decided last night.

“That’s good. I’m glad you’re happy. Just let him know if he hurts you, ill have to hurt him.” He told me seriously.

“You and about 12 other people Tony. Ill let him know though.”

By the time lunch came, I was ready to go home and go back to bed. Monty and I need to start sleeping together through the night, rather than talk for hours on end, only sleeping for a few hours a night. Walking over to our table, I saw Zach already there. “Hey Zach.” I mumbled, sleepily.

“Hey Becca. You look exhausted.” His voice sounding concerned. I sat down and put my head on his shoulder.

“I am. I haven’t really been sleeping much the past few weeks. Did you have plans after school?” I asked him, stifling a yawn.

“No I don’t think so. Why? Did you want me to come by and chill?” I nodded and made a sound of agreement, closing my eyes. “Okay, ill text my mom after lunch and let her know I’m going to your place.” I nodded again. “Did you want to nap?” he asked kindly. I nodded again. “I’ll tell the guys to be quiet then. I’ll wake you after lunch Becca.” I nodded off a bit, sleeping lightly until I felt serval pairs of eyes on me and heard whispers. 

“She’s so cute when she sleeps.” 

“Wonder what she’s been doing to need to nap at lunch.” 

“Awe, her nose twitched.” 

They all sound like new parents watching their baby. “Quit staring please. It’s creepy.” I mumbled, opening my eyes and turning to Zach. “How long was I out?” 

“About 10 minutes. Feel better?” 

“Yeah. I should make it through the rest of the day. Don’t know if I’ll make it through a few episodes of our show though, so only expect an episode tonight.” 

“That’s fine. Did you want to reschedule?” 

“No no, it’s okay. I’ll make a cup of coffee when we get to my place or something.” I felt Montgomery’s eyes bore into me but ignored it. He knows Zach and I are just friends so it’s not like he has anything to worry about. Turning my attention to Scott and Bryce, “also, no. I’m not cute when I sleep. And what I’ve been doing is none of your damn business.” I told them matter of factly, but still smiling. They laughed and rolled their eyes. 

     The rest of the day went a little smoother than this morning. I was more awake and alert. There was less fog in my brain. Zach and I agreed in Peer that he would spend the night, so he was going to run home for clothes and grab some food from Rosie’s on the way to my house for us. I texted Monty to let him know, as a courtesy. ‘Hey, just so you know, Zach is going to spend the night at my place. We might end up drinking and I don’t want him driving home then.’ He responded a few minutes later ‘okay, thanks for letting me know.’ Sneaking a look around to make sure Ms. Bradley wasn’t looking, I texted him back. ‘He has to run home and grab some clothes after class. So I could hang around school for a few minutes, if you wanted....’ He texted me back almost immediately. ‘Meet me at my locker after class. Have to get my fill of you in before the weekend.’ As the bell rang, I gathered my stuff quickly and waved to Zach before all but running out of class towards Montgomery’s locker. I saw him standing there, leaning against his locker looking for me, though to anyone passing by it would just look like he was scanning the crowd. Spotting me, he jerked his head towards the exit, signalling for me to meet him out there and get away from the people. I walked to the door and exited the building, finding myself in an empty alcove. A few minutes later I heard the door open and Monty came through. He closed the gap in four steps, leaning down to cup my face as he kissed me. Because we were in public and at risk of being caught at any time, we kept the kissing brief and talked for another few minutes. 

“So, this girl you’re spending your nights with... I hear she’s pretty great.” I teased him. 

“Yeah. She’s smart, and funny, and wild in bed. I barely have to touch her and she’s putty in my hands.” He teased back, winking at me. “And she does this thing when she’s reading, if she’s really into the book. Her brows furrow and she starts mouthing the words as she reads. It’s adorable.” He went on, laughing at my blushing face. My phone alerted me to a text message. It was from Zach telling me he was leaving his place with his clothes for tomorrow.

“Shit, I have to go. Zach is leaving his place and I don’t want to make him wait outside.” 

“Okay, text me when you get home.” 

“I will.” Tell him, pecking him on the cheek. “Bye babe.” 

“Bye baby, have a fun night.” He says, turning his head to kiss me goodbye. It’s a brief kiss but enough to get us through until Monday. 

     Rushing to my car, I drive home hoping to beat Zach there. I manage to beat him by five minutes and am looking for a wine glass when I hear his knock on the door. When I open the door, Zach is standing there with a bag of food in one hand and a coffee for me in the other. I lead him inside and he sets the food down on the island, handing me my coffee as I take a long drink. I savour the burn as it goes down. He puts his bag down and unpacks dinner as I pour myself a glass of wine. “Did you want a drink? There’s beer in the fridge or wine or pop.” I offer him.

“I’ll take a beer yeah.” Handing him a bottle and the bottle opener, he opens it before we make our way to the couch to start our show. We sit down and enjoy dinner together as we watch our show, laughing until it’s over. Pouring another glass of wine and grabbing another beer for Zach, he asks me “tell me about mystery man? You were awfully red this morning when you were texting him. I know you aren’t telling people, but I know you want to spill.” 

“Well, without giving too much away, I guess I can tell you some things.” I said, pulling my legs under me, holding my glass of wine. Zach leaned back on the couch waiting for me to continue. “He’s tall. Not as tall as you, but tall enough for me. He’s smarter than he lets on and he cares more than he wants people to think, but also short tempered. Looking at me you wouldn’t expect me to go for his type.” I heard Zach gasp and I held a breath. 

“Is it Cyrus? Because that would be cool. He’s kind of funny.” His thought made me laugh. 

“No! It’s not Cyrus I swear to you. He doesn’t strike me as the ‘hide your girlfriend’ type. More, carry a girl on his shoulders so everyone knows she’s his. Anyway, this guy. He has rough edges but once you get passed that outer shell, he’s a big softy. Never repeat that to him when we decide to tell people. It was very unexpected. After the year and a half I’ve had, the last thing was looking for was a relationship. After my mom died I kind of... I didn’t know how to handle it. And just when I got back on my feet...” I trailed off, unsure if I wanted to continue and let Zach in. 

“When my dad died, I was lost. My friends were out of town so Hannah and I started hanging out. I went to a lot of movies to fill the time. I had to step up and be the man of the house. I’m 17, that’s not what I want. I want to be a kid. So I get it. You lose someone close to you and your world flips 180 degrees. You have to learn how to breathe and live again.” He told me, sympathetically grasping my hand. I got up to grab myself another glass of wine and got him another beer. 

“If you want to hear the rest, I’m going to need another drink.” He nodded in understanding as I sat down handing him the cold beer. I took a long drink from my glass before continuing. “After my mom died, my dad started going on more business trips and working later- I think he wanted to avoid coming home to a house without his wife. It left a lot of time for my brother Jake and I to take care of each other. I guess he had more going on than I thought he did. I remember it was the middle of the night when my dad called me and asked if I had heard from Jake. I hadn’t seen him since that morning, but that wasn’t unusual. We both ran in different circles so sometimes we didn’t see each other for a day or two. There was something in my dad’s voice that made me worry. I called his best friend and asked if they had seen him. They said no. Later that day my dad came back from his business trip early. We spent the next three days looking for him. The police were involved and took a lead on the search.” I paused, feeling tears in my eyes as I took another drink. “And then on Saturday I came home and my dad told me he was dead. It was obvious he killed himself. Losing my mom was child’s play compared to that. That week was one of the hardest weeks of my life. My dad had already been considering accepting a promotion but that was the thing that pushed him to taking it. A few weeks later, he told me we would be moving here. His work was able to fast track the permits and everything so it was a fast move. And here we are.” I said sadly, finishing my story. I didn’t feel better talking about it. Zach squeezed my hand and pulled me towards his chest. We sat in silence for a while before he turned on an episode of Family Guy and we watched it, laughing sadly and drinking until we started to feel better. Around 1:30 we decided to call it a night and bid each other goodnight. He went to the guest room and I went to my bedroom. I must have woken him at some point in the night crying because when I woke up, my eyes were burning, and his arm was around me. 

[allisondraste]

Temperance (12/?)

Pairing: Nathaniel Howe/ Female, Non-HoF Cousland

Story Summary: Nathaniel and Elissa were childhood friends, but time and distance tore them apart. In the aftermath of the Fifth Blight, and Ferelden’s Civil War, both Elissa and Nathaniel must attempt reconstruct their tattered lives. As a series of events lead them to be reunited, both are reminded of so many years ago when things were much simpler.

Chapter Summary:   Liss knows she’s in trouble when her father uses her full name. 

First Chapter Previous Chapter [AO3 LINK]

Highever, 9:18, Dragon

Liss was to be on her best behavior.  That was what her father told her, and he had used her full name, so she knew that there would be serious consequences if she did not obey.  Still, she wasn’t quite sure what her best behavior was. She always tried to stay out of trouble, to do good, to be kind, but somehow, it never quite worked out for her.  The only reason she hadn’t spent most of her summers scrubbing pots was because Fergus and Nate came to her defense more times than they probably should have. She just liked to have fun, and sometimes that meant breaking the rules.  Sometimes, it meant convincing Delilah Howe to sneak into the Great Hall with her to see the arrival of King Maric and his entourage.

Glittering and golden, Maric walked with an air of easy confidence one would have expected from a rebel hero and now King of Ferelden.  He was exceptionally tall, but his loose posture and gentle smile made him seem far less imposing than the taciturn man at his side. Teyrn Loghain walked next to him with hard, clanking steps and a scowl upon his face.  In many ways, he reminded her of Arl Howe, but in many ways he didn’t. There was a soft admiration in his eyes when he looked at Maric that became even softer when he looked at his daughter. She didn’t think she’d ever seen Howe look at anything with admiration except his own reflection in the mirror.

Lady Anora was everything Liss had imagined her to be, tall and graceful with hair as golden as the king’s armor, braided into an intricate design at the back of her head.  Teyrna Mac Tir had not accompanied her family on this trip, so Liss wondered if Anora had a handmaiden who did her hair, or if she’d done it herself. It would have certainly been a surprise if the grumpy teyrn knew how to create such elaborate braids.  She stood quietly, with perfect posture, and Liss was completely enamored. She had never seen someone so beautiful in real life.

Then there was Prince Cailan.  He was shorter than his betrothed and lanky, with hands and feet he hadn’t quite grown into yet, much like Nate.  In fact, Liss remembered reading his birth year in one of the books Aldous had given her, and she thought they were around the same age.  Yet, the prince could not have been more different than her friend. Like his father, Cailan carried himself with a swagger and a flare of irreverence and disregard for the fact that his father and the other adults were engaged in a very formal introduction.  He fidgeted and looked around the Great Hall boredly, whistling the tune of Andraste’s Mabari. He had no sense for the rhythm, but she’d recognize the notes anywhere.

“The prince is so… handsome,” Delilah giggled beside her and Liss turned to look at the raven-haired girl, who abruptly brought her hand to her mouth to keep herself quiet.  Liss joined in her laughter but refocused her eyes on the scene before them.

“I don’t know, he’s alright I guess,” Liss whispered, disinterested, but watching Anora’s every motion.  

“Oh, right,” Delilah said with another laugh, elbowing Liss in the arm, “You like my brother.”

“Don’t be silly, Delilah.”  Liss rolled her eyes. “I already told you I don’t think of Thomas like that.  I know everyone thinks we’ll be married someday, but that’s dumb. Papa says I don’t have to marry anyone I don’t want to, and that I’m too young to decide right now anyway.”

“I wasn’t talking about Thomas.”

Liss froze even as her face grew hot, that final comment enough to finally draw her attention from the scene before them.  “ What ,” she hissed, causing an uncharacteristically mischievous grin to cross her friend’s face.

Her smile deepened as she sang her brother’s name, playfully. “Nathaniel.”

Liss huffed and turned her nose up at the suggestion.  “That’s even sillier than Thomas.”

“You’re only saying that because it’s the truth.  Your rosy cheeks are giving you away, Liss.” Delilah reached out and pinched Liss on the cheek.  

“Even if I did,” Liss snapped, swiping Delilah’s hand away, “Nate doesn’t think about me like that.  I’m just like an annoying little sister to him.”

Delilah opened her mouth to speak, but at the same time her eyes locked onto something across the room.  Liss turned to see Cailan leaning around Anora, and looking directly at them. A smile stretched across his face and he winked.  Anora turned to scold him, but her eyes flicked toward Liss and Delilah too, and she frowned, her pretty brows pressing together.  She elbowed Cailan, who grumbled under his breath, catching the attention of both the king and the teyrn, as well as Liss and Delilah’s fathers.  

Liss’ stomach twisted into knots, and she knew what was going to happen.  She tapped Delilah on the arm repeatedly. “You have to go,” she whispered urgently, “Go.”

“But you’ll get into trouble.”

“Not as much as you,” she urged even more desperately, pushing Delilah out of the line of sight. “My father won’t be as angry as yours.”  The other girl seemed to understand what she meant and hurried away as quickly as she could.

“Cailan,” Loghain barked, “Is there something you’d like to share?”  Liss was shocked by the impropriety with which the man spoke to the prince, as well as by the lack of response from the king.

Cailan was flippant in his answer.  “Not particularly.”

“Cailan,” Maric scolded, eyes still kind beneath serious eyebrows.

“Not particularly… ser?” Cailan laughed despite Loghain’s obvious seething and Maric’s forced attempt at a stern, fatherly expression.  

Uncomfortable with the direction in which the conversation was headed, and fearful that Cailan might divulge Delilah’s presence there as well, Liss stepped from behind the pillar where she hid and out into the open.  She curtsied as low as she could and kept her gaze down at the floor until she heard her father speak, or rather, sigh. “Elissa.”

It was her full name.  She was in trouble.

“I know I’m not supposed to be here,” she explained, trembling, eyes still locked on the floor, “But I was so excited that the King would be visiting.  I just wanted to see. I hid, but Prince Cailan saw me, and I distracted him. I’m sorry.”

A hand fell upon her shoulder, and she looked up expecting to see her father, but instead it was Maric who towered above her, an amused expression painting his face.  “Tell me, dear girl,” he said, bending down slightly so that he was closer to eye level with her, “Now that you’ve seen me, am I worth all the excitement?”

“No, your majesty,” Liss blurted, without thinking.  She could hear Arl Howe gasp in the background. “You’re just a person… with pretty armor.”

“Elissa!” Her father’s voice was more stern than she’d ever heard it, and she knew she had messed up.  She’d be doing worse than scrubbing pots. She’d never see the light of day again.

Then, to her surprise, the king began to laugh, a hearty roar of a laugh that filled the entire hall.  Liss’ father and Arl Howe wore confused expressions that seemed to echo what Liss felt in the moment, too.  Behind Maric, Teyrn Loghain stood and watched, an amused smile perking up at the corners of his mouth as his eyes darted from Maric, to Liss, and then back to Maric.

“I like this one,” Maric said as he straightened his posture and looked at her father, ”Bryce, this must be your daughter.  She is just like Eleanor.”  

“Yes,” Loghain said in a manner that Liss could have sworn was playful, “It is good for the king to be reminded that the only thing that separates him from the common man is a suit of ‘pretty armor’...  Lest his head become too big for his shoulders.”

Arl Howe continued to look horrified, and her father still looked disappointed in her.  Not even the king’s approval would keep her from her punishment. “Forgive me, your majesty, but I specifically told my daughter she was not to cause a commotion,” he bit down on the end of his sentence as he approached both Liss and Maric, “She has to learn that there are consequences for her actions.”

“Cailan could stand to learn that as well,“ Maric said, darting his eyes to the prince, who just shrugged, “So could I, come to think of it.  Very well!” He backed away from the two of them, and moved to stand by Loghain and the others.

“Pup,” her father said, lowering his voice, “How many times do I have to tell you that you can’t just do whatever you want, whenever you please?”

“Sorry, Papa.”  Tears brimmed in Liss’ eyes, even at her father’s gentle words.  She hated disappointing him, and she seemed to do it so often.

“Nothing happened this time because King Maric is a kind man.” His voice became more stern. “But most people are not.  Your reckless behavior and your tongue are going to get you into trouble.”

“I know, Papa.” She hung her head. “I’ll do better.”

He placed a large, rough hand on her cheek, and wiped away a tear before bending down to kiss the top of her head. “That’s my girl,” he whispered, pulling back to look at her directly in the eyes.  “Why don’t you show Lady Anora to her room, and you and I will discuss your consequences later?”

Liss perked up at the opportunity to talk to the older girl, but tried her best to not show it.  She wasn’t even sure she would want to speak with her after the events of the past few minutes. She’d made an utter fool of herself, and graceful Anora wouldn’t and shouldn’t want anything to do with her at all.

As it turned out, Lady Anora had no such reservations about following Liss to her room.  In fact, she appeared to be relieved when Liss approached her. It must have been hard to stand with her back so straight all the while putting up with Cailan -- Not that Liss had any problems with the prince, of course.  She had eagerly nodded and accompanied Liss out of the great hall and toward her room.

They walked in awkward silence for more time than Liss thought she could bear, or at least it felt awkward to her.  Lady Anora smiled gently beside her, seemingly unbothered by the lack of conversation. The way she carried herself was so mature, it would have been easy to assume she was an adult.  Liss would have thought so, had she not known the girl to be her brother’s age.

“I am sorry that Cailan got you into trouble,” Anora said finally, breaking the silence.

“It’s my fault, my lady.” Liss answered with a sigh, “I was told to stay out of trouble.  I wasn’t supposed to be in there. I knew better..”

“There would have been no trouble if you had not been seen,” Anora smiled, blue eyes sparkling.  “And there is no need to call me ‘my lady,’ unless you prefer such formalities. We have the same status, do we not?”

“For now,” Liss said with a shrug, “But I am not betrothed to the prince.”

Anora laughed with a sadness that Liss could not quite place.  “Is my relationship with Cailan to be the only thing notable about me?”

Her words were little pinpricks, poking holes into Liss’ view of the world.  She had never thought about what it might be like to be betrothed. All of her stories told her that it was the most important role a woman could play, to be the backbone to a powerful leader.  She never thought about how it would feel to be forced to play that role. She had never imagined that Anora was anything but happy about it.

“I didn’t mean to -,” Liss began, but trailed off, not sure what to say. “I am sorry.”

“You didn’t know better,” Anora assured her, “No harm done.”

They continued on without a single word between them for some time, and Liss could have sworn the hallway that led to the guest wing had gotten ten times longer since the last time walked down it.  She was both eager to speak to the older girl, but also afraid of shoving her foot into her mouth again. Finally, something came to mind.

“I like the way you wear your hair.”

Anora’s face brightened, and a smile not unlike her father’s twitched on her lips. “Thank you.”

“How did you learn to make it look like that,” Liss asked, pleased that her statement had not caused offense, “Do you do it yourself? Or does somebody help you?”

“My mother taught me,” Anora explained, “But my father actually helped me with this one.”

“What?” Liss halted briefly, stunned, and then continued to move forward again “Really? Your father? Teyrn Loghain?”  She mentally scolded herself for babbling.

“Mhmm.  According to Father, it is an old Alamarri tradition for warriors to braid their hair before going into battle.  He says that it’s still common among the Chasind and Avvar, but that it has fallen out of practice among Fereldans.”

“How did your father learn about it?” Liss was enthralled by the new information.  It wasn’t something she’d ever read about, or that Aldous had mentioned.

“My grandfather.” Anora smiled fondly. “I never met him.  He died during the Rebellion, but Father says he was a good man who taught him everything he knows.”

“Even braiding.”

“Yes,” Anora chuckled, “Even braiding.”

Liss slowed to a stop as they reached the door that led to Anora’s room. “This one is yours.”  She motioned to the door with her hand.

“Thank you being my guide, Lady Elissa,” Anora said, bowing her head slightly.

“Liss.  You can just call me Liss, er, I mean… If you want to.”

“Thank you, Liss.”  She turned to enter the room, but paused when Liss called after her.

“Anora?”

“Yes?”

“Just so you know, you’re not important because you’re going to marry Cailan,” Liss said, matter-of-factly, as if her thoughts should be common knowledge, “You’re important because you’re going to be Queen.”

Anora blinked, appearing to search for an appropriate response.

“The Queen with the Warrior Hair,” Liss added playfully.  

“I… thank you.” Liss just nodded and offered her the brightest smile she could muster, before leaving her to her room.  After all, she figured the longer she hung around, the more likely she was to say something else to upset the other girl.  It was only inevitable.

The walk back to her own room felt much shorter without the impending sense of potentially saying something embarrassing.  Even so, she dreaded the conversation with her father that awaited her once he finished up with the esteemed guests. She imagined what it might be like to be confined to her room for the remainder of the summer, her only interaction with the world being someone sliding trays of food through a slit in the door.  Of course, her father wouldn’t do that to her. He’d just give her that sad, disappointed look that broke her heart into tiny pieces and make her work in the kitchens with Nan for three hours a day.

Guilt bubbled in her stomach.  All her bad behavior ever earned her was chores.  Nate never did anything bad, ever, but he seemed to always be punished for something.  Liss didn’t know how Arl Howe punished his children, but she didn’t think Nate, Delilah, and Thomas would all be so afraid if it were just scrubbing pots.  She would be thankful for whatever punishment Papa chose to dole out.

When she reached her room, she opened up the door to see Fergus lying on her bed, muddy boots dirtying her newly washed coverlet.  He mocked her with his deceptively genial grin.

“What are you doing in here?” She tried as hard as she could to make her words sound sharp.

“ Oh, just catching up on some reading,” he said as he held up her journal, “Last time I saw this, it was just stories and drawings.  Now there are secrets in here, too.”

“You read my journal?” Her blood turned to ice.

“Shall I tell Nathaniel that you think he’s the,” Fergus paused turning back a few pages, “Most beautiful person you’ve ever met.”

“You wouldn’t,” she stomped over to stand beside her bed, looming over him, “You promised me you wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“Yeah, but now you’ve written it down,” he laughed and shrugged, “So it’s official.”

“Stop it,” she ordered, frustrated and terrified tears filling her eyes as she reached for the journal, which Fergus held out of her reach with his stupid long arms. “Give it back Fergus.”

“When is the wedding, Lady Howe?”

“I hate you,” she shouted, throwing a punch that landed with a smack against her brother’s shoulder.

“Was that supposed to hurt,” he teased, tossing the journal aside and standing up so that he towered over her.  He was so much taller than he used to be, but he didn’t scare Liss.

Taking a few steps back, she yelled and charged at Fergus, throwing herself against him hard enough that he lost his balance and tumbled to the ground, pulling her along with him.  She moved to sit atop him, swinging her fists wildly as she did so. She landed a few blows to his chest and shoulders, but he didn’t even seem to feel them, and he blocked the rest with his large hands.

Just as she was about to hit Fergus again, the door to her room swung open abruptly, slamming against the wall.

“Liss! Are you oka--”  It was Nate, and he stopped, frozen as his eyes moved skeptically from Liss to her brother.

Fergus smiled deviously, and Liss warned -- no, pleaded -- him with her eyes to not do the thing she knew he was thinking of doing. “Oh hey, Nate,” Fergus said nonchalantly, as if he weren’t being assaulted, “Mind giving me a hand with my sister?  All I said was that I thought Lady Anora liked me better than her, and she just went mad!” He darted his eyes back to Liss and winked.

Relief washed over her, and she played along. “She’d never like someone as ugly and stupid as you,” she shouted, smacking at him with open hands this time.  “She’d be disgusted because you put your muddy boots on the bed!” It wasn’t entirely untrue, and she managed to swipe him across the cheek.

“At least she doesn’t think of me as annoying, sticky little kid,” Fergus said tersely, pressing a hand against her shoulder to hold her as far away from him as he could.

“The only person annoying and sticky here is you , you big… mean... arse!”

Fergus feigned a gasp. “Elissa, you said a swear! What would father think?”

“He’d agree with me.” She pulled her fist back to strike him again, but she was stopped by a hand grappling at her wrist.  She looked to see Nathaniel holding her back, keeping her from potentially breaking Fergus’ nose. Maker knew she was still mad enough.  

“Let go, Nate,” she warned, furrowing her brows at him, feeling more than a little betrayed despite the fact that they were supposed to be having a pretend fight. “He deserves it!”

“I know that’s probably true.  I want to hit Fergus a lot, too,” Nate said calmly, “But I don’t think it’s a good idea to break your brother’s nose on the same night you insulted King Maric.”  He raised his eyebrows.

“But I -” She deflated, and moved to stand up, allowing Nathaniel to help her to her feet. “That’s not what happened.”

“You did what now?” Fergus, still lying on his back,  began to laugh so hard that he couldn’t catch his breath.

“My father seems to think that’s exactly what happened.”  He smiled, but it was sad. “He said that if he were the king, he would have ordered you flogged.”

Fergus sat up. “Liss, what did you say?”

“He asked me if he was worth me being so excited that I snuck into the Great Hall when Papa told me not to,” Liss explained, “I said no.”

“Maker, sis.  You can’t just talk to the king like that.”

“He thought it was funny, and said he liked me,” she said proudly, “He told Papa I remind him of mother.”

Fergus rolled his eyes. “Of course you’d luck out like that.  If you’d said that to anyone else, you’d be dead.” He rose to his feet, shaking his head. “You need to be more careful.”

“I know.” Liss hung her head, ashamed, once again.  Fergus reached forward and tousled her hair gently, and then looked over to Nathaniel.

“Thanks for saving my nose, Nate.”  Fergus tousled his hair, too, before walking out of the room, winking at Liss one last time before he closed the door.  She scowled at him.

There was a long, heavy silence that Liss had never before experienced with Nate in the years she had known him.  Of course, she wasn’t really surprised. Due to Arl Howe’s vulture-like circling around the castle for the past two weeks, they hadn’t exactly gotten to talk.

Nate’s eyes darted around the room uncomfortably before they settled back on her.  “Delilah said you saved her from getting caught.”

Liss nodded. “It was my fault she was there anyway.”

“I figured,” he said bluntly, but it was accompanied with a fond smile so she decided to not let it hurt her feelings. “Still, thank you.  I don’t know what Father would have done.”

“You’re welcome.”

There was another pause in the conversation, so tense Liss could barely stand it.  She opened her mouth to say something, but thought better of it.

“I should… probably go,” Nate sighed, pointing to the door.

Liss’ heart sank at his words.  She knew he was right, that if his father found him in her room he’d probably never get to come back to Highever.  Nathaniel was always right. That didn’t mean she had to like it. She rushed forward and wrapped her arms around him from behind, pressing her face into his back.

He tensed noticeably at her touch. “Liss.  I can’t stay… if Father --”

“I know,” she interrupted, voice muffled against his shirt, “I just missed you.”  Liss released him, and he turned to look at her briefly and sadly, before walking out of the room without saying a word.

There was no punishment her father could give her that would feel worse than that.

[drrameyfanpage]

Just a Walk in the Park: Chapter 9

Author’s Note: I’m so blown away by the people who comment and like this story. Thank you guys so much!

Tag List: I’m sorry if I missed anyone! Let know me and I’ll add you.

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Alexandra’s holiday shift passed rather quickly. She stuck mostly to Ethan’s side getting a few good cases. They fell into a comfortable routine. He was still rude and insufferable most of the time but she understood it better now.

Sunday had her up early. She gotten the ingredients she needed the day before to make homemade apple crisp. She honestly couldn’t believe she was going over to Ethan’s home. It made her nervous and yet gave her a warm feeling.

Sienna and Jackie were working, so there was no one to stop and question her as she all but skipped out the door.

Ethan eyed the backpack Alexandra had at her feet. “Planning on stealing more clothes of mine?”

She looked at him sharply and found him trying not laugh. “You’re not funny.”

He glanced at the jacket before pulling away from the apartment. “Maybe you should though. That can’t be keeping you warm any longer.”

“I have a winter coat, I just don’t like wearing it.” She shrugged.

“Maybe at least wear a scarf and gloves.”

“Yes, dad.” She gave him a salute before looking at the window and missing the unpleasant look on his face.

She realized they were headed downtown towards the waterfront. He took a few turns before going into the underground parking of a tall building. He carried her backpack as they headed for the elevator. She couldn’t help but to notice every parked car seemed to be expensive.

He pushed the front door open and let her enter first. There was a small hallway with the kitchen to the left and an entry table to the right but at the end of the hall it opened into the living room with large windows looking out at the water.

“Wow.” She said as she headed straight for them looking out at the amazing view he has.

He put her bag down by the couch before walking up behind her. “It’s why I got this place. I love all the natural light. Sometimes we never make it outside during our shifts, I didn’t want to come home and feel the same way.”

“It’s a beautiful view.”

Ethan looked at her. “It is.” He said simply. “Which is why I pay too much and have too much room.” Changing the topic for him back to the apartment.

He points to the left past the living room to another hallway. “First door on the left is the bathroom. Next door is the guest bedroom. Door across the hall from that is my bedroom and the first door you’ll see on the right is my office.”

She glanced in the direction he pointed and couldn’t help but to wonder what his bedroom looked like. “Make yourself at home, I’m going to start putting stuff on to cook.”

She picked her backpack up and followed him into the large kitchen. An island separated it from the living room. She took a seat on one of the bar stools pulling items out of her bag for the apple crisp. Alexandra can’t help but to watch him move effortlessly around the kitchen. He rolled the sleeves up on his dark red dress shirt exposing his forearms to her.

“What are you making?” He nods to stuff on the counter.

“Apple crisp.” She grins. “I’ll need a deep pan I can stick in the oven.”

He points to several draws and cabinets telling her what’s in them. “Help yourself.”

They worked alongside each other in the kitchen. At some point she convinced him to put on Christmas music.

“What’s your favorite holiday?” He asked handing her glass of eggnog and settling next to her on the couch. They spent most of the afternoon in the kitchen and was now just waiting for things to finish cooking.

“Christmas! That’s easy.” She curled her feet under her. “You?”

“Hmm. I enjoy Halloween a lot or should I say October. The change in the air, the leaves.”

“So Fall is your favorite season. I’m surprised you didn’t say Christmas with being from a big family and having your sister’s kids.”

“In a way I feel like the magic of Christmas is really only magical through a kids perceptive. Seeing my nephews makes me sad sometimes.” He shrugged putting his glass on the coffee table.

“It’s a good thing you have me because clearly you need to find someone who loves Christmas. I love the cheesy Hallmark movies and cookie making. I love going to see lights.”

The smile on her face was contagious and he pictured her bundled up against the New England cold looking at lights. He would have to take her for a drive through some of the neighborhoods that were known for lights.

“Do you want kids?” She asked.

The smile dropped from his face. “I don’t know honestly. I’m not sure what kind of parent I would be.”

“We’ll after watching you with baby Ethan, I would say a good one.” She smiled resting her hand on his arm.

“What about you?”

“Of course. At least two.”

“What happened to your mother doesn’t scare you?” He asked before he could think about it. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have asked that.”

“I won’t lie and say it doesn’t, but isn’t the risk worth the outcome? You and the person you love have created something together. That’s more magical than Christmas.”

The urge to pull her into his arms and never let her go was strong. He fought against it though.  He couldn’t ruin her career or her rosy outlook on life by tangling her up with him.

“Tell me about your family.” She nudged his thigh with her foot.

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything. You’ve met my dad and apparently you two are going to a future baseball game together.” She laughed.

“Far enough. My oldest sister is Jessie and she’s a lawyer in New York City. Next is Katie who is a stay at home mom of three boys ages 4 to 8 and her husband is Todd. Todd is a building engineer. My little sister is Jennie and she is a high school art teacher in upstate New York.”

“Should I call you Ethanie from now on?” She giggled.

He shot her look, “Please don’t.” Without thinking he tickled the bottom of her foot closest to him sending her into a laughing fit.

“Fine. You win.” She breathed pulling her foot back towards her. “What about you parents?”

“Ah, mom and dad. My dad is a retired lawyer and mom has always been a stay at home mom.”

“I see your sister followed in his footsteps.”

 “She did. He wanted me to also.”

“Certainly he’s proud of the choice you’ve chosen.”

“Not at first. He came around though. My mother saw to that.”

“Are you a momma’s boy?” She grinned.

He shrugged. “I may be her favorite.”

Their conversation continued to flow until dinner was cooked. They sat at the kitchen island eating. He shared stories about the trouble his nephews always cause at holidays. She told him about holidays with just her dad.

“I hope you’re not wanting to get rid of me right away.” She said pulling a dvd from her backpack. They had just finished loading the dishwasher.

“A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving?” He eyed the dvd case.

“Please.” She pouted.

“Fine.” He huffed playfully.

“You wouldn’t happen to have blanket I could use?” She asked as she settled in the middle of the large couch.

He returned from down the hall with a soft dark grey blanket. He handed it to her before taking the dvd from her. She made herself comfortable. He sat down beside her and she offered some of the blanket to him.

“How kind of you?” He joked taking some.

She rested her head on the couch close to his shoulder as they watched the cartoon. He only payed half attention to it, as he took in this moment. It seemed like every time they were together he was more relaxed then he had been in years. There was something about Alexandra that set his mind at ease.

Ethan drove her home after the movie was over. They were both back on shift the next morning, so he didn’t want to keep her out too late.

[mortyandcarlsbespokesalvage]

Day 1 Sequence 1

Raven Daniels awoke with a start. The harsh blare of the precinct klaxon rang through the barracks. He checked the clock and saw it was just past three. His sleep had been shallow and restless. Raven had spent shifts on standby at the precinct barracks before, but this was his first shift since being promoted and a doozy of a storm was bearing down on the city. He listened to the P.A.

“Repeat, Squad 13 Trash Panda to Bay 9. Trash Panda, all Sweepers report to Vehicle Bay 9.”

Raven had slept in his armor. He could not have known that his team would be called to action, but he had secretly hoped. He felt a twinge of guilt. A call to action had to mean someone needed help. It was selfish of him to hope for an emergency. But today was his first day as a full Sweeper, and he was going to be ready for anything. 

Raven sat up quickly and immediately banged his helmet against the upper bunk. Not an auspicious start. He turned up his visor and hastily tucked his long blue-black hair under his hood, tightened the straps on his somewhat ill fitting armor, grabbed his axe, and headed for the Vehicle Bay.

“We’ve got a Code Black,” Captain Meri Mendoza shouted as the klaxons continued to blare. “Trash Panda form up on me! Get the lead out people, let’s move it!”

Squad Trash Panda rushed into action. Captain Mendoza was still yelling. “This is a Medical Retrieval mission. Gear up and head to the Southwest Drop. We’re riding Rosie and going in hot. Daniels’, you’re with us.”

Raven felt a thrill of excitement rush through him as joined the press of men and women checking their armor and axes. It was only his first day as a full Sweeper, and already he was off to handle a Code Black. He couldn’t wait to tell Abby and Percy about it later. Raven’s guilt eased the more he thought about it. This storm was a beast, one of the worst Raven could remember, and the undercity was prone to flooding. It was not unheard of for work teams to get trapped. And then there were all the things that got chased out of their dens by the rushing water. A bad situation could turn catastrophic in an instant. It was a harsh reality of city life, especially in the undercity. But at last Raven would be able to help people. 

He was so excited!

Armed and ready, he followed his team to the Southwest Drop. Captain Mendoza was already there, loading up Rosie. The Heavy Rig was a massive beast of a tractor, armored top to bottom, with a monstrous engine, and drill and plow attachments at forward mounting points, made to clear even the most congested tunnels. All sides were heavily plated to defend against whatever beasties the deeps could throw at them. The medical trailer had already been coupled and the Rig rolled onto the massive elevator platform.

“Hey, Mendoza!” Sweeper Cortez shouted to catch her attention, then threw a thumb back to point at Raven. “Are you sure the kid is ready for this?”

“That kid got his promotion a full two years before you got yours, Sweeper Cortez. Sweeper Daniels’ will be fine.” Mendoza cast a sharp eye over her team as they assembled. “Though if you’re that worried about him, you can join him up front.” 

Cortez grimaced comically but kept his mouth shut. Instead, he wrapped one meaty arm around Raven’s shoulders and gave him a brief but affectionate rap on his helmet before mounting his post on the Rig. With Cortez occupied, Captain Mendoza looked down at Raven with her bright obsidian eyes and quietly confirmed, “you ready for this, Daniels?” 

“Yes, Captain! Absolutely.” Raven stood with his shoulders pushed back and chin up, trying to look as tall as possible. At 6’4” and with a powerful physique he was small for a Sweeper. His teammates to a one had at least a good half foot on him vertically, and some horizontally. Captain Mendoza was 7’6” slouching and twice as broad as himself. Raven knew (hoped) he had some more growing to do. He was confident he could do his job well no matter how short he was, but didn’t want to be the team shrimp forever.

The captain smiled with too many sharp teeth. “Good. Now get in formation. Sweeper Howell?”

“The squad’s ready on your call, boss.”

She nodded and faced the team. “Brace for the Drop.” She shouted.

“Everybody ready for the Deep-Down!” Cortez bellowed

Something swooped low in Raven’s stomach as the huge lift descended abruptly. The knot was more than just the feeling of freefall. The ride down would take a few minutes, and the captain took this time to brief her squad.

“Dispatch received a medical distress call from Squad Muskrat in the deep shafts. A Spire team was down there on a routine excavation with Muskrat running escort. Coms on site called in for immediate medical extraction with an emergency quarantine. Following that, we lost contact with the team. No further details so we’re going in blind. Are there any questions?”

“Yeah,” Cortez jumped in. “Who dressed the rookie?”

Raven flushed red. A few chuckles spread through the squad. “It’s classic.” he mumbled. 

Raven shuffled awkwardly under the attention before straightening his back and standing as tall as he could without going on tiptoe. He was aware that his armor was too big for him. That it was old. But it had belonged to his father, Darius, a veteran sweeper and Raven’s hero. It had given him pride and no small sense of comfort to don the armor he’d seen his father wear almost every day of his life. The bronze colored armor did indeed look out of place among the newer Sweeper gear. The armor was heavy plate over insulated coveralls of reinforced durable mesh. His air tank was covered by the sturdy metal shell of his back plate. His heavy helmet visor, looking like a great welding hood covered his face so completely without contour as to look a metal can on his head when it was lowered. By contrast, modern sweeper armor was lighter, and looked more like heavy scaled fire coats. The air tanks were exposed, and the newer designs eschewed heavy plating in favor of highly durable and resilient fabrics, with armored breathing masks and large goggles for improved visibility. 

Raven’s father’s armor had been cared for through the years, and had survived a 30 year tour of service without breaking down. Despite improved models through the years Sweepers never forcibly discontinued armor that still worked. You wore it until it no longer did the job, then you got something new. So while the style could kindly be called vintage, and the fit was poor at best, Raven wouldn’t be ashamed of it. Just a tiny bit embarrassed, maybe? In hindsight, it was pretty sentimental of him. 

Meanwhile, the chuckles Cortez had garnered withered quickly under Captain Mendoza’s stern unblinking black eyes. “I’ll rephrase: does anyone have any questions that are pertinent to the mission and not dumber than a day old gob-sausage?”

Silence among the squad of twelve. 

Captain Mendoza had a reputation, Raven knew that much. But a reputation for what changed often from person to person. Depending on who he’d asked, Captain Mendoza was known for being a hard ass, for excellent training, for having enough tunnel sense to fill a deep shaft, for being more terrifying than a tunnel-full of Doom Rats. But her teams had some of the highest survival rates. And Sweepers who worked her Squad long enough often found themselves Team Leaders or Captains. And Raven was already beginning to see why. “We have a little time, so pop quiz, Sweepers. The point of armor is to what? Sweeper Howell?”

“To keep us alive, Captain.”

“Correct. Sweeper Daniels’ armor has obviously seen several years worth of action and survived to be worn again. That’s more than most of our own armor can say. Obviously it’s doing the job it was built for. Besides aesthetic critiques about Sweeper Daniels’ sartorial choices, can anyone give me a valid reason for him to change?”

Silence reigned on the platform. Raven watched, slightly awestruck, as the captain let the squad marinate in their own embarrassment for a few more tense moments. Then, “good talk, everyone. If it ever comes up again, I’ll be telling Sweeper Daniels about every fashion mistake I’ve seen on this squad, starting with that gods-awful hair-cut you’ve got under your helmet, Cortez.”

From atop Rosie, Cortez squawked indignantly and he adjusted his helmet. The tension broke as the squad dissolved in laughter. But the lesson seemed to stick, and no one looked askance at Raven again.

“Tunnel contact,” Sweeper Howell called over the din. “Everyone prepare to disembark.”

The elevator shook with a loud bang as the platform came to an abrupt halt. Though he couldn’t see it, Raven was suddenly and intensely aware that he was suspended above a seemingly bottomless chasm. As deep as the Barrier Wall was high, the Deep stretched over one thousand feet down into the abyss. And Raven was now just a few fallible sheets of metal from falling into its black depths.

The elevator’s front gate dropped forward with another deafening bang as the ramp connected with the tunnel entrance. Rosie’s engines revved loudly as it lurched forward across the ramp and into the tunnel. So much sound, echoing into the great chasm. What noises were there in the Deep, when the Sweepers weren’t there to make it?

“Everyone mount up! We’re on double-time!” Captain Mendoza bellowed. The remaining members of the Squad who had not taken up hard points on the Rig gripped the handrails and steps on either side. Raven pulled himself up and into position as Rosie rolled down the tunnel at speed.

Raven held tight to the side as the Heavy Rig barreled through the dark. His heart was pumping like mad. It was only his second time in the Tunnels. His first time had been his supervised expeditionary training. Though he’d paid close attention and taken many mental notes, it had felt almost like a tour. But this was a real mission and that made everything different. 

He had been a trash-man for two years now. He’d started topside the minute he turned 18, walking the city streets and running collections bi-weekly. He had developed a rapport with the citizens along his route, and it was a good job. But he’d always known that the real heroes of the sanitation corps were the Sweepers who patrolled the upper undercroft and kept vigil against the horrors that crept up from the deeps to menace the city. 

Raven had worked his way down the ladder, applying after only a year of service for duty at the frontlines in the undercity, clearing the underground blocks of trash and chasing out the crawlers, weavers, and assorted subterranean fauna. He had even taken out a pair of scrap-eaters at one point. Single-handedly slaying the two man-sized rodents in defense of the citizenry was an impressive achievement for a rookie trash-man, and it earned him a fast-track to special training to join the Sweepers.

Raven’s father had been a Sweeper, and he was the bravest, strongest  man Raven had ever known. Only Chief Hobbs had the same kind of presence. Appropriate, Raven thought, since he had grown up hearing his father’s stories of his years as a trash-man with Hobbs as his partner. Raven had loved hearing about his father’s adventures. 

Stories of the monsters of the deep down, of protecting excavators and engineers as they worked to map the undercity. Stories of finding lost treasures, ancient mechanima, smuggler’s caches. Of the mountains of varied scrap, mined to build the city and the Jewel Isle settlements. To Raven there was no greater calling than to be a Sweeper, like his father before him.

“Junction coming up.” Howell’s voice in Raven’s helmet radio came through over the rumble and roar of Rosie’s engines.

“Slow and dismount” crackled Mendoza. “Roll by slow, and ready on the left flank.”

The Heavy Rig slowed. Raven and his squadmates hopped down from their posts on the side rails and walked slowly and deliberately up to the gaping maw of the adjoining tunnel. Rosie’s headlights only pierced the dark so far, but they took a moment to evaluate what they could see.

Moss and lichen covered an assortment of junk. There was furniture overgrown with it - shapes of couches and tables subsumed by carpets of luminescent subterranean flora. There was familiar debris, like kitchen appliances - ovens, refrigerators - and stuff they couldn’t place - wheeled box-like machines like miniature Rosies, metal and plastic picture frames with no picture. It was a scene which Raven had come across before. But never quite so wild. 

The floor of the tunnel had a carpet of moss. A wide path cut its way through the junk, and Raven could see, right before the light reached its’ end, it began to veer a little. 

“Rosie’ll fit,” said Cortez. Raven hadn’t realized the older man was beside him. “Sweepers cut the path down here years ago to fit Bubbles. Rosie’s a smaller lady, so she’ll get through easy so long as the path’s still clear. But it’s been a while since this entrance was used. We’ve got to scout ahead for any blockages.”

“Didn’t Muskrat have to take care of this on their way down?” 

With perfect timing, Captain Mendoza’s voice came through the headset. “Alright Trash Pandas, listen up. Good news bad news time. Bad news first. We are not following Muskrat’s path. Muskrat came down via a Spire access point coming from the opposite direction. That road would take double the time and we’re on the clock. This pipe hasn't been swept in  months, so there’s been more than enough time for the local ecosystem to creep back in. The good news is, the elevator we rode down puts us closer by half. This route is only one tunnel league away from the vault. Let’s roll on and keep those eyes peeled and ears open. We don’t know what’s moved in while we’ve been gone.”

With that, the Vanguard took point in front of Rosie and entered the tunnel. The moss was soft under Raven’s feet but also unexpectedly slippery. He found himself constantly second-guessing his footing, and in no time, excitement turned to annoyance. There were people counting on them! They had to move faster than this.

“Hey,” Cortez’s heavy hand fell on Raven’s shoulder. “Cool it, kid.”

“But-” Raven began, frustration bleeding into his stance.

Cortez cut him off before he could even begin. “Listen. We’re going to go as fast as we can while still making sure to get there in good enough condition to kick as much ass as Muskrat needs help kicking. Meanwhile, trust your squad. And slow down. We’re gonna be shitty cavalry if we show up with you nursing a concussion after slipping on moss.”

“I’ve got my helmet on,” Raven said petulantly. He was not sure he liked Cortez very much right now. “It even fits.”

“Sure does, kid. Guess that big head’s good for something. Now here’s a tip. It’s a good one, too, no bullshit. Slow is smooth, and smooth is fast. Keep that in mind and you might live long enough to fit the rest of that armor.”

Raven didn’t reply, but he did slow down. And he chewed on what Cortez told him.

Rosie rolled behind them, slow and bright. The headlights were low beams; enough light to see what they needed, not so bright they’d blind themselves if they turned around. The path serpentined madly through the cavernous tunnel, but it was mostly clear. The few blockages were more shallow spraws of junk. Probably debris from the clumsy passage of a tunnel worm or something. They didn’t reach a true interruption until they were more than halfway through to the vault.

A smaller tunnel branched off the route they were taking. From inside, the Vanguard could hear the sound of footsteps.

“Lets have some light,” requested Sweeper Ko. The flood-light atop Rosie swiveled towards the smaller tunnel. A few feet in, Raven spotted a pair of humanoid figures. Their clothes were rumpled and their movements were jerky and uneven. Raven hefted his ax and made to rush forward. Cortez grabbed him by the nape of his armor and pulled him back like an errant kitten.

“What in all the hells do you think you’re doing?!”

Raven looked at him and the two traded incredulous looks. Raven replied, “those are shamblers. You’re supposed to kill them on sight.”

Cortez groaned and manhandled Raven to face the tunnel again. “Kid, take a minute, clear off your visor, and take a good hard look at those two. Do those really look like shamblers to you? Really?”

Raven was really starting to get annoyed with Sweeper Cortez. But that was still one of his teammates, and a senior officer, so he listened and took a second look. At first, he was certain his first impression was the correct one. He’d fought shamblers before and he recognized the halting, uneven movements of the undead. But then he looked harder. And he listened. 

In the light there was a bright blue-green rash across their skin. At least at this distance. Up close, however, it would undoubtedly look like bright crusty corrosion and flaking scales of oxidized metal. The clothes were not just worn, but in tatters, a gruesome clue to how many years they had seen. Shamblers fell apart before their clothes reached that state of degradation. And the footsteps. Raven hadn’t noticed it at first, but there was a ringing that echoed after each step. The size of the tunnels, the proliferation of noise dampening mosses, the layering of each echo - they’d combined to camouflage the metallic quality of the sound. But now Raven could hear it, could see what he’d overlooked the first time. Lastly, the eyes. They burned in the dark like embers in black sockets. How could he have mistaken them for shamblers? He wanted to kick himself for not recognizing them immediately. Walkers.

Another Sweeper stepped forward. Raven thought he recognized them as Sweeper Li. “Walkers confirmed. Two of them. Tracking loops now.”

It seemed like the tunnel itself held its breath while they watched the pair. 

“Aren’t we going to engage?” Raven asked Cortez in a whisper.

The older man shook his head. “Not unless we have to. We’re a rescue party, not a cleaning crew. As long as these guys aren’t in our way, we can leave them and come back later. Now watch.”

The Walkers stayed in the side tunnel for several minutes as they repeated movements. But soon enough, one stepped out into the tunnel. A ragged tightened noose dangled from its neck. It stepped into the larger tunnel and began climbing the junk. Once it reached a certain height, and Raven noticed the pile had been packed down there, almost into a ledge, Raven watched in quiet horror as the Walker's hands moved as if to tie off the long lost end of the rope. It pulled to tighten the knot around its neck. Then, the Walker jumped. 

It landed on the tunnel floor with all the impact of a falling bell. Raven felt the sound reverberate in his bones. It sprawled in the path looking broken, unmoving for minutes. Then it pulled itself to its knees and crawled back into the smaller tunnel. There, Raven caught sight of the second Walker. He hadn’t paid as much attention to it as the other at first. It was just cradling trash in its arms like a baby, pacing across a moss-bare patch of tunnel floor. 

Raven could hear chatter on the radio, but he’d given up listening. The second Walker had stopped pacing. It lifted the trash in both hands, inspecting it, and started shaking it. The shaking grew wilder. Then the walker stopped and fell to its knees. In Rosie’s light, Raven saw the Walkers face change, the once expressionless visage twisted into agony. Then it collapsed, still cradling the trash bundle. 

It stayed on the ground, totally motionless. Then it got up, and resumed cradling its trash bundle and pacing. 

Raven felt sick.

“Looks like only Walker 1 strays into the Rig’s path. Both loops took in excess of 10 minutes. More than enough time for Rosie to clear this intersection.”

Captain Mendoza acknowledged it over the headsets. “Mark it and radio topside. Let’s keep moving.”

The squad progressed and Rosie rumbled after them. Her engine was loud enough, Raven could almost convince himself he couldn’t hear the steps anymore. Or the thud of the jumper landing. Almost. 

Once they were past the intersection, the radio crackled in Raven’s headset. "Daniels, channel 11."  Sweeper Howell’s voice spoke in his ear and he switched his radio channel. “Was that your first Walker, Daniels?”

“I, yeah. I’ve heard about them, we covered them in basic. First I’ve seen one, though. I think the closest I’ve ever been before was helping evacuate part of the black market 8 months ago? There’d been a sighting on that level, but I never- I didn’t- And my dad told me about the looping, but- I didn’t expect it to be like that,” Raven confessed. “On the street, people say they’re just tougher shamblers.”

“It’s different seeing it,” Howell agreed. “And if you need to talk about it after this mission, you’re welcome to come see me or Captain Mendoza about it. For now, though, I want to make sure you know the right protocol. ‘Tougher shamblers… Devin’s Maul, that might be the worst understatement I’ve ever heard.”

Howell quickly broke down the differences. Shamblers and Walkers were both undead humans. But while Shamblers still had human flesh, Walkers were metal, and hard enough to break an axe on if you swung carelessly. A single, well trained trash man could take a Shambler and come out alright. One good swing would do, often enough. Walkers on the other hand, took half a squad, six sweepers, armed with axes and dragon fire, to safely engage with even a single Walker. Shamblers could hear you, and would attack unprovoked. You'd be in for a fight whether you wanted it or not. But Walkers looped. 

Looping was simple in theory but horrifying to watch. Things that used to be people repeated their human actions again and again. Trapped, stuck, like a record skipping. And like the two they’d passed in the smaller tunnel, they’d often repeat one moment of their life before, some moment that preceded their succumbing to the Sickness. Looping Walkers were passive, mindless things. You could go around them. But if you interrupted the loop, they’d turn on you, angry and flailing and so, so strong. Strong enough to tear off limbs, as Howell told it. 

So sure, they could’ve engaged with the two back there, and probably come out fresh. But they would’ve spent precious time, energy, and resources well before they reached Muskrat in Vault 213. Vault 213 was the priority.

If they found another Walker and if they had to engage it, as part of the Vanguard, Raven would stand in formation with his fellow Sweepers to surround it. They would alternate between dousing the Walker in dragonfire and attacking the heat-softened metal body with their axes. Two sweepers with dragonfire burners to hose it down, two to hold it in place,  and two to go for  the head until it was severed or crushed. Hopefully, however, there would be no more Walkers for the rest of the journey. Ideally, there would be nothing for the rest of the journey and they could get to Vault 213 with no more interruptions.

After nearly half an hour of walking in mostly silence, Raven had to ask. “Cortez, why are you sticking with me?”

“Captain told me to,” Cortez answered matter of factly. 

“And you always listen to her? Forgive me for saying so, but you don’t really seem the type.”

“Oh no, I absolutely am not,” Cortez assured him. “But Captain Mendoza’s good at keeping her people alive. And my recursive career path notwithstanding, I am very partial to being alive.”

Almost immediately after saying as much, there came a low, guttural chittering sound. Something between a growl and a roar, echoing through the tunnel from the darkness ahead. 

The Squad stopped dead. The captain spoke softly over the com. "Lights." Without a word all squad members switched off their helmet lamps, and Rosie's headlights went dark. It took Raven a moment to adjust his eyes to the soft glow of the bio-luminescence. It was more light than he had been afforded in training. Sweepers had to learn to work in the black. They wouldn't last long otherwise. "Li, scope and recon." Said the Captain.

Sweeper Li brushed past Raven and quietly strode forward around the bend of the tunnel ahead. "Confirmed contact. Doom Rat. Big one. Maybe 12 meters."

"Shit." Cortez said softly. "Well kid, looks like you'll get to use that antique of yours after all." Cortez nodded at Raven's axe. Like his armor, it had belonged to his father, Darius. It was heavier than the fire axe he had carried as a trash-man. It had to be. Sweeper axes were made to fight monsters. Less a true axe than a polearm, a long handled great sword or a short handled halberd. If Raven was short for a Sweeper, then his axe made up some of the gap, with a longer handle and blade, straight, single edged, and tapered to a harpoon-like axehead tip. By contrast, Cortez's newer model axe was shorter and broader, with a curved head at the end. Sweeper axes always had a jagged hook at the tip of the blade. Raven once again felt the knot in his stomach, knowing that he was about to use his father's weapon for its intended purpose.

"Vanguard, form up and ahead slow. Rearguard to flanks." Mendoza said softly. They rounded the turn and saw Li crouched and low against the far tunnel wall. She gestured ahead, and there, on its haunches making a meal of a nest of thick shelled giant pill bugs, was the colossal rodent.

This was a little more familiar to Raven, but just barely. Outsized rodents were a scourge that popped up all over the city, his promotion after all had been for laying out a pair of man-sized Scrap-eaters. This one was just bigger, he thought. MUCH bigger. Almost as big as Rosie. 

Gargantism was an attribute that appeared in almost all the creatures that lived in the Tunnels, and it was especially pronounced in the Deep-Down. For reasons unknown, the deeper something lived in the undercity, the bigger it got. Theories about the cause, and Artisan’s lower ecology in general, ran wild. But given how dangerous it was to work in the Tunnels, they were rarely if ever proven. Sweepers especially liked to theorize as, without these things creeping up to the surface, there might not be a need for Sweepers in the first place.

Shamblers tended to appear less frequently the deeper one went, presumably because of alpha predators like the one sitting before him. Even rotten meat was still meat, after all and Doom Rats were notoriously not picky eaters. Walkers however seemed to be passed over as subterranean meals went. Possibly because they were made of metal? And they didn’t grow.

Raven shook his head to clear it. None of that was important now. He swallowed hard to curb both his fear and his enthusiasm. His near mistake with the Walkers was fresh; he didn’t want to make another.

“You good on protocol for this, Rookie?” Cortez whispered in a tone that was void of levity and heavy with somber resolve. The change in demeanor in the older man, to one of serious professionalism took Raven by surprise. Suddenly Cortez seemed to Raven like a shadow of Captain Mendoza.

“Y-Yeah.” Raven stumbled. “Vanguard forms an axe wall and draws its attention to lead it into a Flashlight protocol or flashbang, while Rearguard flanks and goes for the legs to immobilize, and finally go for the throat.” He remembered his basic training, but the practice drills against a thrashing mechanical puppet seemed quaint now that the real thing was before him, at least 3 times bigger.

“Don’t forget to watch the teeth.” Cortez whispered flatly as his eyes remained fixed ahead at the Doom-Rat. “These things chew through the walls down here.”

“Any other advice?” Raven spoke softly.

“Sure,” said Cortez. A caustic levity returning to his voice. “Don’t get dead. Now get your head in the game. Here we go.”

Captain Mendoza stepped forward ahead of the Vanguard and raised her axe high. The squad stepped up behind her in unison and raised their own. Mendoza turned the flat of her axe toward the tunnel floor and brought the huge blade down hard. Raven and the others followed and the sound that resulted was deafening. The clatter of a dozen blades ringing out and echoing against the walls of the massive pipe. The monstrous beast whipped its head around to face them and in an instant had turned its body into a defensive posture that seemed to nearly fill the tunnel. 

“AGAIN!” Cried the captain. Again the sound rang like some fractured bell and echoed in the dark. It seemed as if the great rat winced, and in a moment that seemed to stretch far longer than it should have, it lunged forward towards the squad. In the same stretched instant, there came a sound like a muffled shot as Howell switched on Rosie’s high beam headlights. The rat screamed and flipped backward, wheeling away from the blinding light. In the flood of light, the creature seemed even larger, thought Raven. 

The rat’s scream drowned out all other sound as it lunged again. It was throwing itself towards the silhouettes of the Sweepers against the searing light. The flashlight protocol was intended to either frighten away the monstrous creatures or at least put them at a painful disadvantage. Raven was unsure how much that handicap would count for as he stepped forward with the rest of the vanguard to form an axe-wall for the beast to throw itself against. The lunging teeth and claws moved with lightning speed and it was all Raven could do to raise his axe in front of him. 

The rat missed him entirely, but its gaping maw rushed towards Sweeper Li. At the same moment the Rearguard was rushing along the sides, Raven caught the sight of Captain Mendoza’s axe striking hard against the long, axe-like front teeth, cracking and chipping one. Again the rat screamed, but this time it whirled around, and a thick 20 ft tail lashed like a whip in a frenzied circle. The Rearguard was knocked back, half a dozen sweepers thrown against the walls or into the dark of the tunnel behind the rat. The captain was hit and thrown back past Rosie’s front wheel, and the whirling rat lunged once more Sweeper Li.

Raven’s body moved before he realized it, throwing himself into a mad sprint towards Li. Time slowed. Li raised her axe across herself like a shield. The rat’s gaping maw spread wide and sharp. Raven raised his blade overhead in an action that seemed in the frozen moment to take more effort than he had known himself capable of. 

And then time snapped back, Raven’s blade flashed, and the Rat screamed a deep roar as it leapt backward, toppling head over tail and scrambling as it flipped and lashed. It turned towards them again, this time sporting a large gash across its face that crossed over a bloody socket where its right eye had been. It hissed with a sound that shook the tunnel, then scrambled backward and up through a huge hole chewed through the tunnel wall.

Silence reigned within the tunnel as the skittering scream of claws on metal faded into the distance. 

 “First time I’ve known anybody to jump towards the teeth.” Li laughed. “That was nice and stupid, rook. Beautiful, but stupid.” Li removed her helmet to smile at Raven. “Thank you, Sweeper Daniels.”

“Oh! Well, of course!” Raven stuttered as he helped Li to her feet. He felt a few other hands clap his shoulders. Suddenly Captain Mendoza was there. 

“Sweeper Cortez, didn’t I tell you to keep an eye on Daniels?”

“Aw, c’mon cap” Cortez  protested under her stern glare, slouching exasperatedly and gesturing a wave at Raven. She turned to look at Raven, giving him a once over. “Sweeper Daniels,” she said, her tone flat and unforgiving, “that was incredibly reckless, and entirely against protocol.” Raven’s adrenaline gave a sharp spike. He hadn’t had time to be afraid of the Doom Rat, not in a real, articulate, ‘I’m going to die now’ way. Now, he was terrified that the captain was going to send him back up to the trash men, acutely aware of how crushing such a demotion would be. Then her lips quirked in a small but genuine smile. “That makes you one of us now.”

----

<Last chapter | Next chapter>

[darling-clemmy]

Summer Dreams: One (ClemxLouis FanFiction)

Summary: Louis arrives at Ericson’s Camp for Troubled Youth for the third summer in a row. Most everything is exactly the same, except for the new, pretty, junior counselor with curly hair.

Warnings: Swearing and in later chapters some mature-ish themes (NOT smut though!)

Word Count: 2,218

A/N: I have altered some of the reasons for the Ericson’s kids presences (mostly Violet) because I felt like their backstories were too intense/serious to only result in going to a summer camp. Also, this is going to be a multi-part series, but I’m not sure how many yet!

The late June heat seeped into Louis’ mom’s car despite the air conditioner being on high. It was only 9:30 in the morning, and already 89 degrees, which was alarming since it was a cool 60 earlier that morning when they left. It was about an hour and a half drive from their relatively large house to the summer camp which Louis dreaded going to. To him, the only good part about it was seeing his long-distance friends, like Marlon and Violet. And maybe Aasim, too.

Every summer, his father decided he needed time away from his son, still not fully forgiving him for the mischievous frauds committed by Louis years ago. He also believed that since they were so well off financially, it’d be good for him to experience some authentic outdoor time in the blistering heat. This was really just an attempt to humble Louis a little, but everyone at Ericson’s felt he was always going to be a little spoiled. They still loved him, though, and knew he was a genuinely good person under all of his designer clothes and expensive rings.

Lost in thought, Louis barely noticed when his mom returns to the car, jiggling the locked handle outside vigorously. He reached over to the driver’s side door and pulled the handle for her. She smiled at him and slided into her seat, placing the bulk of requisite paperwork in her lap.

Louis groaned and slumped his head and shoulders back. “Really? Paperwork, again? They should know I’m a regular now, especially after last year because of the whole laundry detergent accident.”

“It isn’t an accident if you meant to do it,” his mother reminded him. “And don’t get all fired up, I already filled it all out for you.”

“You know, I bet we’re the only family that has to fill out all of that crap every year.” He turned to face his mom, prematurely smiling at what he was about to say. “I bet we only have to because Mr. Ericson totally has a thing for you.”

She rolled her eyes while trying to repress a smirk. Light-heartedly, she said, “You’re crazy. He probably has a lovely wife and four amazing kids and maybe, like, a golden retriever, or something.”

“Mm, nope, he has some kind of pit bull. Her name’s Rosie—she bit some kid in that area last year.”

“Anyway,” she replied after chucking a bit. “I’m sure if your dad was the one to drop you off he’d have to fill out all the same stuff.”

Louis adverted his eyes and became quiet for a moment before mumbling, “As if he’d ever want to drop me off.”

He didn’t mean for it to come out so bitter, since he really was more sad about it than anything else. A good relationship with his dad was something he had wished for every year as he blew out birthday candles. He prayed that somehow everything would change. Of course, it never really did.

His mom sighed and placed a hand against his arm. “He does love you, Louis. You’re his son, his only child. Nothing can break that, even millions of mistakes.”

He nodded, still not meeting her dark brown eyes.

“I love you, sweetheart. You should start heading into the main building. I think I saw Marlon and his mother earlier.” She said, making Louis perk up a bit in hopes of seeing his friend.

“I love you, too, Mom. I’ll try to call as soon as I can,” Louis scrambled, stepping out of the car. Quickly, he grabbed his two suitcases out of the trunk and headed towards the front court yard, smiling back once at his mom.

+++

The dining hall was a familiar place to Louis. He had spent nearly every night in there for the past two summers, playing juvenile card games and eating the same bland food. The chatter of dozens of voices, the occasional clang of pots in the kitchen, and the long oak benches had become comforting to him. It was always a place of good memories, with more to be made in the upcoming weeks. Every camp season’s orientation was in here as a meeting place for new and old camp members and counselors.

Louis and his large group of friends sat together, taking up most of a section in the back. To his left was Marlon, sent to camp for extreme anger issues and fits of violence. On his right was Violet, who was sent for “not having any emotions,” according to her mother.

“So, Violet,” Louis starts. “I see Minnie and Sophie aren’t here. Do you know why?”

She blushed a pale rose at the mention of her annual summer-time girlfriend. “No idea. Maybe they did some acts of good service or some shit and their mom let them stay home.”

“That’d be a real shame, wouldn’t it?” Marlon teased, poking his head into their conversation.

“Fuck off,” Vi replied. “Why don’t you and Brody go get a heads start on sucking face in the bathrooms?”

Louis chucked, “And probably other parts of their bodies—“

He was cut off by the shrilling sound of an older man’s voice—Mr. Ericson’s voice, in the introduction of the same bullshit speech he gave every year about their mission to help each individual personally.

“While we stick with the same foundation to Ericson’s,” he went on. “This year, we have decided to make a change considering our counselors.”

Everybody started chatting once again, most in hopes that they finally fired Larry, the oldest and strictest counselor at Ericson’s.

“Settle down, everyone,” the old man interrupted. “No, we have not fired anybody, though Larry has retired. This year, we have hired some junior counselors to tag along with a senior one. They’re all teenagers, like yourselves, so that you can really see examples of responsible, well-rounded young adults.”

Marlon shifted towards Louis. “You think any of them will be hot?”

Louis shook his head. “Nah. Even if, they’re ‘well-rounded young adults.’ They wouldn’t go for us.”

“Well, if there are any, I call dibs.” Marlon stated, forcing a laugh out of Louis.

“We’ll see about that.”

Marlon roller his eyes subtly before turning back to face the front.

“Alright, everybody! Start heading to your assigned cabins and get rested for the first day of activities tomorrow. If you see a new counselor, make sure to introduce yourself! They won’t bite!” Mr. Ericson said, making only himself laugh.

+++

Later that night, once the moon was at its peak and everyone else was asleep, Louis crept out out of the cabin he shared with three others—Marlon, Mitch, and Justin. It was still moderately warm outside, but thankfully accompanied by a brisk wind which would pass by every so often. Clad in just sweatpants and an old provided green camp t-shirt, Louis made his best attempt to rush over to the music and arts hall as quick as he could. Dirt crunched beneath his shoes, making him worry he’d awaken somebody in his pursuit.

Finally, he made it to the small building which held his favorite past-time at camp, the grand piano. He had always loved music, although most nobody took him seriously when they heard him play, except for his mom. Even Marlon couldn’t hold a straight face when Louis played him Für Elise, which he had finally mastered after three straight weeks of learning it. Louis kept playing, though, even if it had to be in the dead of night.

He tip-toed up the rickety stairs to the front door, grabbing the rusted door knob once reaching the top. It didn’t budge.

“Dammit,” he whispered.

Suddenly, a nearby door creaked open, allowing dim light from inside to drain out onto the ground. Louis pressed his back against the door, still peaking his head to see in front of a pillar. All he could really make out was the silhouette of a girl, appearing to be carrying a small plastic bag out to a trash can. She clearly wasn’t a senior counselor, leaving her only to be a new camper or one of the new, dearly beloved junior counselors. Louis figured he wouldn’t get in too much of trouble if he just started walking back to his cabin then. And he may get to meet somebody new while doing it.

He started making his way towards the group of trash cans where the mysterious girl stood, pushing down whatever she just placed in. As he got closer, he was able to discern more characteristics of the figure, like her curly hair tied into two full pigtails. While this was expected to make someone seem child-like, Louis could already tell from the back of her that she could pull it off.

Once he got a few feet away from her, he greeted in a muted shout, “Hey!”

She jumped a bit in her place, instinctively turning around, curly tendrils hitting against her jaw.

The first thing Louis noticed about her were her eyes—bright even in the darkness and the color of ancient amber. They startled him, but he still found them beautiful, enchanting, even. She was on the shorter side, yet still held herself as if she was tall. She wore a pair of black exercise shorts and a baby blue t-shirt, signifying that she was in fact a junior counselor.

He supposed he was wrong earlier that there wouldn’t be any attractive ones. This girl was so much more than attractive, though.

“Hello?” She responded, curiously and dragging out her word.

“Sorry to disrupt your nightly chores. I’m Louis,” he apologized before holding out his hand.

She grasped it and shook it, suspiciously. “Clementine.”

“Well, I guess I should cut to the chase. See, the music hall is locked, preventing me from becoming the world’s next best pianist. Now, I know I’m not supposed to be awake, but neither are you most likely. So I was wondering if maybe you could unlock it for me?” He rushed out, flashing a toothy grin at the end in hopes his charm would woo her.

Clementine sighed before looking at him quizzically. After a moment, she gave in and shrugged her shoulders. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to do. You’re lucky I have the keys to it.”

Louis pumped his fist in the air, really not expecting her to say yes. “Booyah! Thank you, Clementine.”

She smiled kindly at him and started walking towards the music hall. Louis followed behind her, jogging to catch up. He looked over at her and realized her eyebrows were now furrowed together as she reached up to her lanyard to grab the set of keys, fingering one silver one over the others.

Once they reached the cabin, she swiftly jabbed it in and unlocked it. As soon as the door opened, Louis could smell the scent of waxed floors and oak. In the back left corner lay his favorite piano, tempting his fingers to spread across the white notes. He cooly walked over to it and sat down, trying not to let Clementine see him get too giddy.

“How long have you been playing?” She asked, leaning against the cover.

“A few years, I mostly play when I come here, though,” he explained.

“So you’re a regular camper? That must suck.”

“It has its pros,” Louis shrugged. “You clearly aren’t the biggest fan of this place. Why’d you wanna’ work here?”

Clementine walked around the piano, sitting down next to him on the stool. “It pays well and seemed easy, but I don’t know if I’ll have this job for too much longer if anyone finds out about this.” She looked around the room.

“You really aren’t being that good of an influence on me, but don’t worry, I won’t tell.” He said, winking and splaying his fingers across the board.

He started playing a song from memory, not remembering which one it was. His palms felt sweaty with Clementine sitting right next to him, observing each melody played. She sat quietly, and from Louis’ peripheral vision, she was grinning loosely.

“You’re quite good, you know,” she complimented. “I’m not sure why you feel the need to do this at one in the morning, though.”

He played one more chord before stopping and meeting his eyes to her’s. “Maybe this was all just a master plan to talk to a pretty girl like yourself.”

She blushed, glancing down at the floor before standing up. “I should probably start getting back to my cabin. Need to be up early tomorrow.”

“Right. So do I, I don’t want Marlon to wake up and call for, like, a rescue team,” Louis joked, raising up next to her. “Let me walk you back to your cabin. It’s the least I can do.”

“It’s only like a hundred feet from here. I can handle myself, but thank you.” Clementine ticked her hair behind an ear before pacing over to the front door. “See you around, I hope.”

He raised his hand and waved. “Goodnight, Clementine.”

“Goodnight, Louis.”

She closed the door behind her as she left, leaving Louis alone, standing amidst the dying candle light.

He could feel his heart beating the whole walk back as he thought about the way she’d said his name when she wished him goodnight.

[faces-in-unexpected-places]

Do You Have the Time? Episode 010: Nice to Meet You!

[October 13th, 2007, 9:03]

Leslie stood in the common student centre of Curiesville University. It had been spruced up and converted into a presentation hall. Many of the high school students from various areas in the state along side her were positioned in front of the large windows that took up most of the wall. She was assigned a place in the student centre across from all of the chain restaurant stands and cafes. The CVU maintenance staff was gracious enough to clear out the tables and chairs on the side that the high school kids were holding their presentations. But the other half of the food court was still populated with enrolled college students. She wished that she was assigned a spot in the other room with the sculpture of the university’s mascot. It was quieter in there. Thankfully it was Saturday, so there was little clamour for her to talk over.

A boy her age with flat, black hair and nearly white skin waved to her and began walking over. He wore black slacks and a grey shawl cardigan over a dress shirt. She nervously flattened her skirt down her waist and fidgeted with the collar of her own dress shirt. Her own white cardigan lied over the chair provided for her.

“I asked where your poster was set up but you never responded to me,” he said as he stopped in front of her.

“Huh?” she asked distractedly.

“I sent you a text message earlier. I wanted to know where to find you!”

“Oh,” she laughed stiffly, “Well, you found me!”

“I did. I wanted to wish you luck before the judges came out!”

“Oh, well, thanks!” she said with a bit more relief, “Where’s your spot?”

“The other room with the capybara statue. Kind of a weird choice, don’t you think?”

“It’s their mascot,” she clarified, “I think it makes sense!”

“I know, Leslie,” he groaned, “I mean that it’s a weird choice for a mascot.”

“I guess so. I don’t know, I think it’s interesting. Better than a bear or something. It’s more memorable!”

He sighed and rolled his eyes.

“It’s not threatening, though! If you put a capybara up against a bear, the bear would obviously win. When they have sports events, a capybara is not going to be the image of a winning team. It makes no sense at all,” he argued, “It doesn’t exactly give you the impression of ambition or resilience.”

“Okay, well, I’m not saying you’re wrong, Max. I’m just telling you what I think of it.”

He scoffed.

“This place would be a good fit for you, then.”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m trying to get a scholarship by giving a good presentation. Isn’t that what everyone is here for? Even you?”

Max shrugged. He leaned over to examine her poster board while she spoke.

“Hah, not everyone. I don’t really need the scholarship. My parents just want me to try to lessen the cost of tuition. Are you applying to any other colleges?”

“Um, well, maybe,” she crossed her arms, “I like this place, though. They’re really nice, and seem like they want to get people to come here.”

“That’s like, every university, Leslie,” he snorted, “Of course they want you to go here. That’s how they make a profit.”

“I know… But it feels like they want me to come here for more than just the money. It really feels like they care about my education, you know?”

“You’ll probably change your mind once they give the welcome wagon shtick a rest.”

Leslie scrunched her face with distaste.

“Anyway, what are you doing when the presentation is done?” he asked, “Want to get some lunch or something?”

Her shoulders tensed and she stepped closer to her poster.

“Umm… maybe, we’ll see,” she laughed nervously, “I might get some with my parents. They’re going to come by to see me do my presentation later.”

“Cool. Come by my poster later, too. I want you to critique me before the judges come by.”

“Okay, maybe. I don’t know how much I can offer, since I didn’t research your topic, though.”

“Oh, I know,” he scoffed, “But if you could at least try, I would really appreciate it. I just want to be my best when it’s time to present!”

Leslie had given up on thinking of responses to Max. She couldn’t figure out what he was looking for whenever he talked to her. If she voiced her mind, he had to challenge her. If she tried to remain neutral, he encouraged her to be more outspoken.

He took a step back before making his exit.

“I’m going to get back,” he said.

“Okay, I’ll see you around,” she replied a little too eagerly.

“Oh, but before I go…”

Leslie let out a tense breath and faked a smiled.

“I like purple shirt you chose. It goes well with your hair.”

“Uhh, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Anyway, don’t forget to come by my poster! I want to see you before this is all over!”

“I’ll try to make it!” she waved him away as he turned and headed back to the other room. 

Leslie let out a deep sigh through her pursed lips. She could feel her body relax after he turned the corner. Not all students were at their assigned spots yet. She was early. Other faculty, current students, and parents walked around to see the posters. It gave the students time to practice their presentations before the judges came. Leslie reached for her pointer stick near her backpack and held it loosely with both hands. She awaited the arrival of willing listeners.

[October 13th, 2007, 13:43]

“In conclusion, the great scientific advancements and discoveries of our history have made great strides from the support of research and its funding. From the moon landing to the Human Genome Project, we’ve been achieving amazing things because of the investments of the people who believed in the projects and wanted to see them to completion. It is understandable that some projects may seem out of reach or too risky, but without the proper support, they will never come to fruition. If a cure for cancer, or tracking of our planet through space is worth something in the end, then the research and the scientists conducting it are worth something right now. Research and its funding, in all its trials and time, is how we build a better future for humankind. For ourselves, and for the next generations to come. Thank you.”

Leslie smiled confidently with her shoulders and head held up high. The four judges stood around her and her poster, forming a semicircle. They were taking down notes on their clipboards and chattering between each other. She set her pointer stick down on the small rack that her poster rested on. The judges smiled and cleared their throats.

“Yes, thank you so much for your time and dedication to your presentation Miss… err… Goodchild?” the judge questioned.

“Yes, Leslie Goodchild! That’s me, heh!” she blurted out anxiously. She turned a rosy red.

“Well, Leslie Goodchild, we hope to see you attending the award ceremony tonight,” another judge said and winked.

Her eyes widened and she beamed from ear to ear.

“Th—THANK you all!” she squealed, “I—I—I will most definitely be there. Thank you again for listening!”

They finished their formal goodbyes and moved on to the next poster a few feet away from her. Leslie glanced around for her parents. They were nowhere to be found. Her mother said that they would be coming at 12:30, but maybe they were stuck in traffic. No calls or texts either. She felt winded and woozy, so she lowered herself into the old chair provided to her. It was metal and cold, but it was a place to sit. She hoped that her parents were okay. Maybe they needed help with something. Her stomach rumbled. She clutched it and leaned over, trying to rest her body. She glanced up again to see a tall man approaching. His face showed many creases as he grinned at her. His hair was thin and black, with grey streaks in it. If it was styled at all, it was poorly done; his hair ran about in every which way. Leslie jumped back to her feet in anticipation and put on a welcoming smile.

“Hello! How are you today?” she asked.

“I’m doing great,” he responded cheerfully, “How are you, miss?”

“Uh—oh!” she stuttered, surprised that he returned the question, “I’m good, sir. Would you like to hear my presentation?”

“I’ve actually already heard your presentation,” he said. Leslie seemed confused. “I was behind the judges while you presented,” he clarified.

“Oh! Are you also a judge?”

“Ah, no, no,” he chuckled, “No, just a professor here, at the university.” Leslie jolted.

“Oh! I didn’t know that professors came to these events. I—I mean, I knew that some faculty did, but I thought that was mostly… I don’t know, advisors or… something, heh,” she struggled to fill the gaps of silence.

“Eh, some do attend, some don’t. There’s no real way to know. It depends on the preference of the professor.”

“Okay! Well, what can I do for you, professor?”

“Well, I wanted to compliment you on your presentation, for one! My name is Dr. Leopold Looney; I’m a physics professor and researcher here at CVU. And I may be partial to your presentation because of those things, but I thought that you were very articulate and represented the scientific community well.”

“Wow, that is very sweet of you to say, Dr. Looney! I’m Leslie. If… you didn’t already know that. I’m not sure what you heard, heh!”

Leo smiled patiently as she spoke.

“I noticed that you would say ‘we’, when talking about scientists during your talk.”

“Oh, did I? I didn’t notice!”

“Have you decided on a major in the sciences yet? Or, er, I assume you are going into the sciences,” he laughed.

“I am interested in science! But, well, no, not yet. I’m not sure. Any of the three main disciplines sound like great options to me. Biology, chemistry or physics. But I guess there are a lot of subsets and concentrations to those too.”

“Yes, but you should worry about those after you decide on a field, probably,” he suggested with a grin, “So, you’ve ruled out things like geology or mathematics?”

“Oh, goodness,” she mumbled and pushed her finger to her lips in thought, “I guess maybe I overlooked a few options,” she looked back up at Leopold, “There’s a lot more thinking about this to do than I thought… it’s kind of a nightmare, actually,” she said with wide eyes and a forced smile.

“Okay,” Leopold snickered, “Don’t get too carried away. You still have plenty of time to figure it all out.

Leslie’s stomach growled like an angry bear. Leo raised his eyebrows and frowned.

“Haven’t eaten lunch yet?” he asked.

“Oh, no, not yet. I was waiting for my parents but…” her phone buzzed with a message for her mother, “Oh… I guess they’re not going to make it,” she mumbled.

Leopold frowned and awkwardly repositioned himself in front of her.

“Err, sorry to hear about that, kiddo,”

“I—It’s okay. I’ll just… eat somewhere in here. They’ve got enough places to choose from,” she gestured to the noisy and distracting half of the food court that was not converted to a presentation area.

“But not so many that it’s kind of a nightmare, right?” Leo remarked. Leslie giggled with a bit of shock.

“Pfffft, no, not that many!”

“Tell you what,” he said, “let’s get something to eat together.”

“Are—are you sure? Aren’t you busy with research and stuff?”

“Ehh, maybe there’s some things I could do in the lab, but it is Saturday, after all. I’ve spent half a day there already. Sounds like we could both use something to eat right about now. How about it, Leslie?”

She nodded her head, considering the offer. She glanced to her phone and sent a message to her mother, saying that she hoped everything was okay. As she thought, Leopold offered more options.

“We don’t have to eat together if you don’t want to, also,” he chuckled, “I get it. Big, tall, serious professor at a college you don’t go to yet. Although, if it helps you feel more relaxed, I’ll let you know that sometimes I write my notes in crayons.”

Leslie snorted.

“I don’t have to buy food for you at all, either. I can just walk away and we can pretend we’ve never even met each other. But I’d at least like to help you save your money, even if we don’t eat together. You’ll need to save it when you’re in college!” he continued.

Leslie glanced around the room, trying to make up her mind. Her gaze landed on the threshold that Max had come from earlier that day. Her eye twitched in irritation and anxiety. At least it wouldn’t be with Max. And she would have more of a say in what they did. At least he was giving her a choice. Going with Dr. Looney was better than most of the alternatives she could think of. Her parents were late, Max would find a way to make it weird, and eating alone would just make her open to him finding her. Leopold rocked back and forth on his heals, awaiting an answer.

“Decisions, decisions…” he joked. Leslie glared at the threshold. Leo began to feel a bit intrusive. “Uhh, here, why don’t you just take a twenty, and enjoy yourself. I’m sure it will cover more than you can stomach,” he jested. He left the bill on the poster stand and turned away.

It was now or never. It was the best choice she had. So she chose yes.

“No, wait!” she yelped and grabbed his arm, “Sorry, I… just couldn’t decide.” 

“I know!” he laughed.

“No, no, I mean I couldn’t decide… uhh, on what to eat!”

Leopold chortled, snatched his bill back and motioned her to follow him to the active side of the food court.

“And here I thought I would have to find another brilliant, future scientist to eat with.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’d find one!” Leslie encouraged as she skipped along with him.

“Perhaps… but I have a feeling it would be a while before that happened!”

They weaved their way around the tables towards the restaurant ordering counters. Leopold paid for everything that Leslie wanted as promised, and they sat down to enjoy themselves. Leo ordered himself a ham and cheese sandwich, and Leslie made her own tuna salad. They talked about Leslie’s aspirations as a scientist, and the places Leopold has been. They laughed and thought together about the ways of the world. But mostly, in between conversations, they gazed outside, past the posters and their stands. Orange, red, and yellow leaves fluttered in the breeze, and the trees whispered through shaking branches.

It was almost as if they weren’t even at the university anymore. Leslie had never felt that way before. Calm and… removed from the stresses of her life. Whether she thought of them or not, there they were at the back of her mind. But today was different. Leopold cleared his throat and snapped out of the daze.

“Whoops,” he laughed, “I think I may have zoned out just a bit there.”

“Oh, goodness, look at the time, you’re right!” she exclaimed, “It’s 15:25. We almost took a two hour lunch!”

“It looks like we needed it, huh?” he said, gesturing to the little remains of their food.

“Thank you for lunch, Dr. Looney. I guess I really was starting to go hungry a little bit.”

“Not a problem, Leslie. I’m glad you liked it! Are you going to go back to presenting?”

“I guess so! I’ve already been judged, so now it’s more for personal satisfaction or the curiosity of the parents and students.”

“And professors!”

“Oh, heh, right!”

“If you don’t have any high-stakes presenting to do, I’d like to know your thoughts on CVU, as well,” he added.

“Oh, okay, of course! What would you like to know?” she asked. She signalled for Leopold to follow her lead while she threw away their trash and returned to her poster presentation. He dragged a chair with him across the room. They sat on opposite sides of each other in front of her poster board. 

“Why don’t you tell me why you’re interested in CVU?”

“Hmm, okay. Well, I really like the environment here! It feels really welcoming, and I feel like the university really wants to have the most quality education that it can give me,” she explained.

“I agree,” Leo nodded.

“There is a large science faculty, which is nice because there are a lot of labs to choose from, when I decide on a major.”

“So you’re feeling out your opportunities for research, then,” he paraphrased. Leslie smirked and rested the tip of her pointer stick on her poster.

“Research is important!” they said at the same time and laughed.

“Yes, I am looking into it!” she continued, “I really want to be a part of the future of science.”

“Any sciences that catch your attention over others?”

“I’m going back and forth between chemistry and physics,” she replied, “As general fields, I mean. Maybe something abstract like theoretical physics? But maybe that would be too broad. I don’t know.”

Leopold nodded and rubbed his chin.

“Astronomy, perhaps,” he suggested.

“Hmm… yeah, maybe! But is that too closed off? Will I have to be an astronomer if I major in that?”

“The world is flexible, Leslie. Possibly even more than you know! I wouldn’t worry too much about that for now.”

“Hmm, okay. I will try!”

“If it makes you feel better, I don’t think you’ll have any problems getting accepted to CVU, so you can familiarise yourself with the majors and professors, if you like!”

Leslie nodded with a joyful expression that slowly began to fade. Her gaze drifted down, away from Leopold, until her hair fell limply over her face. Foot traffic for the posters was slowing down, because they had been seen by those who wanted to see them. Leopold frowned and scooted his chair closer to her, leaning in front of the poster.

“Are… are you afraid of not getting accepted? Because if your grades or extracurriculars aren’t in the place that you want them to be, you still have your letters of recommendation and application letter to lean on. You seem like an intelligent and dedicated student. I really would be surprised if you didn’t get in! You could probably get into much more competitive colleges if you really wanted to, I’m sure.”

“No, it’s—it’s not that…” she sighed, “Not to sound cocky or anything, but… I’m not really worried about being accepted. I think I’ll get in just fine.”

“A little cockiness isn’t such a bad thing,” Leopold snickered, “Do you want to talk about what worries you?” he asked.

Leslie lifted her head up, and wiped her eyes.

“Really?”

“Well, sure! I’ve been where you are. Every single professor on this and any other campus started out in the same place as you, once upon a time.”

“I guess that’s true,” Leslie sniffed, “Okay, well… I don’t know if my parents can afford it.”

“Ohh…” Leo replied, “Oh, I understand…”

“Yeah,” Leslie said, “We have a lot of debt, and are constantly working to try to pay it off, but we keep accruing interest, and they have to take care of me, even though I work, too. And now I want to go to college, and that’s just another thing that we have to worry about, especially if I have to take out loans which will only make it harder to pay things off—” she stammered with tears beginning to stream down her face.

“Hey, hey whoa, okay. That’s alright,” he shielded her face from the rest of student commons, so nobody saw her crying, “why don’t we take a walk somewhere and talk about this? Okay?” he said.

Leslie glimpsed at her poster and the food court with apprehension. She didn’t want to leave just in case her parents managed to arrive before the award ceremony at 19:00. She opened her flip-phone to let them know that she would be away from her poster for a while. Instead, she found a message delivered to her about an hour ago from her mother. It said that they would be at her ceremony late, around 19:30. Leslie covered her eyes from embarrassment. She scrambled for her backpack and reached into a side pocket on it. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose with a travel-sized pack of tissues that she kept. Leopold looked puzzled, but happy that she seemed to be pulling herself together. She glimpsed at him with small, anxious eyes.

“You never know what you’re going to need,” she said with a chuckle.

“What else do you have in there?” he asked. She giggled at his confusion.

“Some granola bars, ibuprofen, pads, a spoon and fork in a plastic bag… they’re washed,” she clarified.

Leopold chortled.

“I wouldn’t think you would carry dirty silverware with you,” he paused, “Of course until just now, I wouldn’t think you would be carrying any silverware with you,” he laughed.

“Yeah, I guess it’s kind of weird, huh?”

“Perhaps. But you already know plenty of weird things about me.”

She smiled.

“Yeah, I guess I do. Maybe I should carry crayons for you, too,” she tried to lighten the mood, “Umm… do you still want to take that walk? We have two hours until the award ceremony,” she said.

“Of course. What should we do with the poster?”

“I’ll just… take it with me, I guess,” she sniffed, “I don’t want to lose it.”

“Sounds great. Follow me,” he said without judgement.

Leslie snatched her poster, rolled it up to put in her backpack, and slipped her white cardigan on. She followed Leopold out of the food court and into the other room full of posters. There was a grand set of stairs leading up to a second floor auditorium. The auditorium would house the award ceremony. The bronze statue of the CVU capybara stood next to the stairwell. Its pose was actually quite natural. It was on all fours and looking over its shoulder. Leslie found this intriguing and appreciated that it wasn’t forced into a caricature. Underneath the grand stairway was a modest fountain with a border to it that was thick enough to sit on. Students had their posters set up along the edges of the fountain, and against the walls across from it. Leopold guided Leslie out the doors across from the stairwell and exited the building. Max must have had his poster facing away from the door, because Leslie didn’t see him as she left.

As they walked out into the courtyard, the gentle autumn breeze blew through their hair. The humidity was gone, but the sun kept the snow at bay for the subsequent months. Students wandered about in arbitrary directions, but Leopold led them both through the crowds down a red-bricked walkway. Leslie had the feeling that Leopold was taking her somewhere in particular, so she asked. However, the only thing that she could get out of him was that he wanted to show her something. He took her to the edge of the campus, then down two blocks to a building with large windows surrounded by red bricks. They entered and were immediately faced with a lobby and a portly receptionist with dark brown hair tied into a neat bun behind her desk. Leopold grinned and waved to her.

“Hello Leopold! How’s the day?”

“Good day, Martha. It’s going pretty well so far. We’ll see how it all shapes out. Hoping for good things!”

“That’s the spirit, honey!” she supported, “And now, who is this that you’ve brought along today?”

“This is Leslie,” he gestured, “She’s applying to CVU, and I wanted to show her something because she is a very promising future-student!”

“Uh, hello,” Leslie chuckled and extended her hand to Martha, “Dr. Looney… may have oversold me a little bit, heh.”

“Oh, hush, nonsense!” Martha waved her comment away, “If Leo here thinks there’s something to ya, then I’d trust him.”

“Well, thank you, Miss Martha. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Leslie said.

“You too, dear!”

“We’ll be back soon, Martha,” Leo disclosed. 

She wished them good luck and to have fun. Leslie really wasn’t sure what that meant, but she was beginning to feel restless, not knowing what she was doing here. Before she could ask Leopold to explain himself again, he had already guided her down a hallway to the right of the lobby and planted her in front of a set of metal double doors with one narrow window on each door. Leopold stood next to the doors and motioned to the entrance with a cartoonish smile.

“What— is— is this yours?” Leslie asked abruptly, “Is this yours, sir?” she corrected.

Leopold chortled at her formality.

“Please, please call me Leopold. I’m not one for the titles, really. Unless you really want to, then you can just call me Dr. Leopold,” he advised, “Or Leo. Or Dr. Leo. Those all work, too,” he laughed.

“Okay… Dr. Leopold,” she settled for the most formal of all the choices.

He opened the doors and the two of them entered the laboratory. There was a lot of open space, and not many machines. None, actually. There was only a set of power tools in a jumble on the floor and a long work bench towards the back of the room. Leo walked into the centre of the room with his arms outstretched. Leslie glanced around and buttoned her cardigan; there was a chilly draft in the lab.

“To answer your question,” he continued, “Yes, this is mine. It’s brand new, too. I’m starting a new research project, so I needed a space to do it in. I haven’t done research in quite some time, actually.”

“Oh, really?”

“You seem surprised,” he replied.

“It’s just that we talked so much about research today. I would have thought that you would be in the middle of it.”

“I have done a decent share of it, but I took a break for a few years. Needed to clear my head of some things. I started teaching in the meantime, and now, I think I’m ready to pick it back up again with something new.”

“Well, that’s great, Dr. Leopold. I’m happy to hear that.”

“And… I want to know if you’d be interested in helping me get it off the ground,” he declared with his arms outstretched and a grin on his face.

Leslie was almost knocked off balance by the weight of the statement.

“You do?”

“Yes,” he said emphatically, “Leslie, I can see that you are driven and have obviously thought a lot about your future.”

“Well, yes, I have…” she trailed off.

“And you have worked hard to get where you are.”

“I—I guess so…”

“And you are motivated to attend CVU,” Leo continued.

“Yes, I am.”

“So I will pay your tuition.”

Leslie nearly toppled over. She couldn’t believe her ears. Surely he must have been joking. A complete stranger offering a deal as good as that. There must have been a catch. Something to make it much less convenient. Although, this was Leopold. At every turn that Leslie thought he would fail her today, she was shocked to find that he did just the opposite. He held his hands and shoulders up in a goofy shrug.

“Wait, what? That was a big leap! Can—can you even do that?” she questioned.

“Of course. Anyone can pay your tuition,” he said.

“I mean, yes, I know that. But do you have the money to do that?”

“I do, actually, yes. I have a lot of savings built up from my last research project. We didn’t complete it, so I was given some of the money to support myself when I resigned.”

“Because you were the principal investigator?” she asked.

“Yeah, I was something of a PI,” he answered with a hint of discomfort.

“So… you’ll just pay for my tuition, no questions asked?” she baited him.

“Close, but not entirely,” he qualified and laughed, “I will pay for your tuition on the condition… that you come work for me.”

Leslie’s eyes lit up with wonder, then immediately glazed over.

“Do you really want me, though? I don’t even have any experience yet. I’m sure there are plenty more qualified students.”

“I’ll teach you,” he assured, “That’s how everyone starts out. You learn the ways of the lab before you master it. I’ll start you off on simple things, and we’ll work your way up to the more involved tasks. What do you say?” he eagerly inquired.

“Well, pffff,” Leslie sputtered, “what is your research project? Do I have to major in something specific to be a part of the lab? What if I want to major in something else, instead? Will I not be allowed to work with you anymore?”

“Ahh, always with the questions,” he sighed, “I supposed I should have prepared for this, asking someone who has thought out her life so much so far,” Leslie waited for his answer, “No, you can work with me for as long as you want. I’ll pay for your tuition for every semester you work for me. And you don’t have to major in anything specific. If you’re looking at hard science, that’s close enough to start out with. The more semesters you work for me, the things I teach you may get harder or easier to grasp, depending on which major you choose. And as for the project…”

Leslie leaned toward him, listening intently.

“Exactly how supportive are you of the importance of research and its funding?” he cross-examined, pressing his hands together.

“Well… I think everything should be given a chance to be heard, at least. If the research is ethical, I don’t see a reason that it can’t be supported.”

“Okay. Good. Well, Leslie, my new project… is elucidating the space-time pathway for… temporal relocation. Or, others know it as time travel.”

Leslie held her head by her temples. She was doing her best to convince herself that the whole day had actually been some kind of stress-dream. But no matter how many deep breaths she took or pinches she gave herself, she was awake. Alive. This was really happening. This tall, animated man was trying to hire her as a time travel technician right out of high school and offered to pay for her education in exchange for, no, in addition to giving her automatic experience. She had a million thoughts racing through her head. Would she like it? What would her parents think? Where were her parents? What about the scholarship money? Was this a real possibility? Was it sustainable? What would everyone think of her? What would Max say? Was she crazy for even letting herself go this far? Even with all of these uncertainties, and for a reason unknown to Leslie herself, in that moment, the only thing she could say was—

“Yes.”