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d3monslust · 3 years ago

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𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 - 𝐀.𝐃.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Only setting up traps for them , Andy didn't see any of this coming

𝐖𝐂 : 3,151

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: pregnancy, mentions of miscarriage & abusive relationships , cheating , manipulation , violence

𝐀/𝐍 : tumblr deleted the original and I thought for couple of minutes I haven’t backed it up to the point I had a panic attack :) also I worked really hard for this , any kind of interaction is appreciated!!

////////////////June 7th 2020\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Every story has a happy ending , where the villain gets defeated and the heroes win , but in eden , no one could recognize the corruption and the decent. Everyone hid their darkest and filthiest desires deep down inside them , in their abyss of their souls . Andy knew that , from first hand . He was still getting to know the place , the idle juveniles laying in the sandy beaches , the laughs of the middle aged men echoing through the thickness of the trees’ leaves . A literal paradise ... with no God .

Dolan had promised his wife to keep her safe, and eventually after his decadence , he was more fazed than anything . Their inseparable form could be made out from kilometers ago, their vivid and full of life auras leaving hints of sunshine from time to time . Winning the couple of the year and being stunned was not in their plans but the did not dodge it . Until Dolan started venturing at inexcusable bars , reciprocal pink lipstick decorating one side of his neck while he reclined next to his bond , mumbling about his ambiguous accomplishments. He had her to the point , Mariah felt overwhelmed. The weight of his nifty assets , the gravitas of his clumsy , yet anticipated acts made her scream and wince .

But Mariah David Dolan , did not intend on giving up so easily , only because her husband was demonstrating his incompetent self . Haphazardly, or not , the female found herself at Sherlock’s , who fasty evaluated and corrupted all of her nasty problems . Taken the right measurements, Mariah decided to treat themselves to a dinner , the brunette averting his gaze back from his laptop to his wife. “Did something happen ?” Mariah never cooked , even at special , “crowded” occasions , she wouldn’t lay a finger at the metallic kitchenware . “No . I just though about all the work you’re recently hooked with. A nice dinner with your wife would help you blow off some steam” smirking at the fit of the last words, she left Dolan alone, drowning in his intellectually safe thoughts.

The capriciousness of the vexing atmosphere made the couple exchange some absurd looks. With Andy being the always tired one, sexual intercourse was lost long ago . “Something you would like to say ?” “No .” She went for a debate , any sort of the key for relationships , communication. If that clink unraveled , there would be no sweet salvation for the married couple . “Well , I want to say something.” Andy whispered a silent “go on” as one of their housekeepers wiped off him some of the pasta’s sauce . “I’m pregnant .” the brunette almost choked at the hear , she couldn’t be . “What ?” voice so small , the trait of vulnerability showing .

The fraction made his stomach toss and turn with anticipation, his dreams for the unknown slowly falling apart . “I’m pregnant on the 3rd month .” eyes infested with fury , the blue like sea color dissipated. “And when were you planning on telling me , hm ? When the waters would broke ? Or when the bump would start to show ? Or when you couldn’t fucking miscarriage?” his excessive, painful words ventured to withhold her insurmountable fury . Unceremoniously, his unbeatable character almost took back his sharp words , the marvel Mariah always waited for could intervene their scold and corrupt his grudge . Albeit she had cried and prayed for that baby to come , her husband didn’t yearn it .

“Did you talk to the gynecologist? Can you ?” he stated chastely , reclining his tensed back to the chair . Who could envision Andy Dolan with a child ? The reluctance became vexing , the tension had to be dwindled if she wanted to keep that inexcusable -for him- child . “Yes . We ... discussed and he said that I cannot ... get rid of it .” her unconvincingly words passed from the one ear to the other . He abruptly threw his crystal glass at the respective wall , agitating the woman to run to clean the mess . The hot , ambiguous tears wetting her cheeks . “Cant you just love me ?” she mumbled , her fasty movements elicited a cut from the sharp glass . She hissed at the pain , she wanted to resemble the perfect , sincere , housewife Andy pleased . To conquer the theme , so as to stand next to him with all her lucid pride while clutching his right hand .

And the things became even worse , chaos consuming the island , darkness drowning the residents . But the worst was Andy’s behavior shift . The unintelligible man faltered and his intriguing about his serene family faded , woefully leaving only his malice and possession . Fighting with his own demons , his rigid and virile facade came and ended up resented . The 24-hour absence of the paternal figure made the child cope with egregious insults and quarrels . Curling up in her little bed , her hands covering the ears as not to listen his beloved parents . Was her the reason they fought every night ? And as the family withered , Andy prepared to hit with sweet and sour vengeance .

“Please ...” the woman begged , the tears blocking her already blurry vision . Fatigue in her system degenerating, she tried to refrain this , but Dolan’s wrath could not be avoided . “Please what , hm ? You had a fucking debt ! Look after that damned child . And I swear to god Mariah ^ if something had happened to my daughter!” he scolded . “Oh come on ! Stop acting like you care ! You never did ... you never cared about your family .” His intimidating methods would usually work , and if not he would try for the vicious skin-to-skin contact . Slapping her and looking her terribly weak silhouette, squirming and crying under him . She remained frigid , not wanting to get that answer , Mariah ran to the basement , advancing around the marble halls like a lost puppy . Andy rubbed his stressed temple , waiting for his own kind of wonder to come and take him from this type of hell . The paradise where demons are hidden .

Andy never wanted to become one of them. That vicious, hungry, creatures . Demons . The olds said that if somebody approached the North river he would see a little red creature . A graceful , gorgeous demon . That was bullshit , demons didn't exist , his friend Michael had told him , that poor man - he had taken the subject of claiming to be the Antichrist of the end times too thick . He ended up at an asylum - good man , sick brain . “What are you thinking ?” . God , or whoever , heard him sent him his guardian angel . The nifty woman was everything he wished for . A real living angel . And that chaste, naive flirt shifted into this; whatever that was.

“Nothing to be honest . But let’s not talk about me , hmmm ?” the girl nodded heartily . Y/N had found her person , the one she could trust and never receive betrayal , the one she could cry at and talk about her insurmountable problems . Their meeting was casual - one , two drinks exchanged , some additional winks and the saccharine act of sex to help Y/N realize her feelings. When she was with him , the blithe and sybarite feeling would bloom inside her , becoming as beautiful as a sanguine rose . She chuckled at his works , could describe him as selfless ? No . But to her ... yes . Her despondent self hid his abusive and possessive persona . For her eyes and only , Andy Dolan was a god , innocent and perfect . “I wanted to ask about ... the divorce ? When are you two signing it ?” he had to be astute and answer handily . But they answer was always the same “Oh sweetheart, don’t worry . Mariah is a bit pertinacious but I’ll persuade her , okay ?” and she would fall at the trap , again .

“You’re always answering the same !” maybe today she would revolt and fortunately leave the poisonous love of Andy’s . His eyes shone dangerously, he didn’t want to do this . “Y/N’s not like Mariah” he would remind himself , but the poor girl was sticking her nose almost everywhere . “Aren’t you pleased , hm ? I took you from that fucking clinic , I helped you withdraw and this is your thank you ? I’m disappointed in you , Y/N .” his esoteric character on sight again . His cogent and invidious words caused the sentient girl spill the salty water . The male disdaining to help or comfort . “You deserve this anyway .” she stumbled back , her apprehension increasing whilst seeing him standing up from the bed . That absurdity had to stop , but he had saved her and it was her time now .

As Andy returned home , and the futile try to persuade his wife about the divorce exhausted him , he found himself at his daughter’s room . Observing her sincere and innocent moves . “Daddy ?” “Yes , Baby ?” his far-fetched sweet talk made the two smile in sync . The blonde’s smile making daddy crack . “Can I tell you something?” Andy nodded , hoping the child wouldn’t have read any of his recreational messages . “Mommy told me the reason she doesn’t want you two to break up !” his eyes lit up at her appendix . Perhaps it was the money or the child but anyway - Andy had to know . “What’s that ?” patting his lap for the girl to sit , Hera made herself comfortable at the warmth of his legs . “She said that she won’t let you fool around with every individual who has two holess.” “She said what ?!?!” “Yes , yes but what did she mean when she said “every individual with two holes .” ?” “Not now , Hera .” he quickly placed the kid down , as she sulked at her daddy’s extraordinary behavior.

By the time Andy stated the predicament , Mariah had ruminated on her terms . She should have said this , fuck she really shouldn’t . Her dull and attention-seeking words pushed her husband’s last buttons . “Are you fucking braindead ? What was that you said to my daughter ?!” she knew where that debate would end up . Condescendingly , she wrapped her arms around his neck . Her touch-starved grating amusing his carnal urges . Not wanting to dwell on the situation , Andy let it happen . Her amorous posture , the well-med hair , how didn’t he feel it coming ? Her hands traveling at his shirt’s buttons while Andy’s fingers went for her top . Discarded clothing were soon decorating the floor of their kitchen . His greed for more would eat him up one day . And he waited - patiently and calmly for that day . Her tenuous dominance caused waking up his boredom. But his prurient mind , thought otherwise.

She licked his upper lip , Andy letting her tongue slip into his mouth . The sloppy kiss turning into something more passionate, more loving . “I’ve missed this .” she mumbled in between breaths , making a smirk plaster on Dolan’s face . “I’ve missed you .” he hushed her by kissing her , the loving , lingering kiss making butterflies fly in her stomach . “Andy ?” he groaned at the call , not wanting to eye roll , he approved the question and motivated to go on . “Do you love me ?” “Yes. Only you . And no one else . I know things are hard right now but I’ll make it up to you.”

Bare bodies tangled . Two bodies in one . His hips snapped viciously at hers , hand grabbing a harmful fist of hair . Abruptly pulling it back , making Mariah hiss at the sudden contact of pain . The persona she would only see , not even Y/N , the sadistic one . Her head touching his sweaty torso , the tears in her eyes strengthening his stamina . The coil in her stomach tightened and as the loved noticed it - his hands traveled between her puffy lips , toying with her little bud . “I’m .... im-” her muffled cries interrupting her . “I know baby . Cum , cum with me .” and the coil in her belly broke synchronized with his . The addicting feeling of euphoria engulfing them both . “You did so well .” his sugary words causing her pride to rise , awaking her love for him . Just like the old times . “I love you , Mariah .” she perched at his tight embrace , inhaling his intoxicating scent . “Mhm me too .” she had to savor the moment . Mariah didn’t know what could possibly find her tomorrow .

////////////////

And as Andy distanced himself from Y/N, he kept his promise and made up the tangle. At least everything that could be fixed . The insuperable bond they created was ineffable. The somnolent love , almost dead , rose back from the dead . His pernicious and arcane self opened at his therapist . The Dolans couldn’t be happier . Apathy no longer lived between them . No invidious implication wafting around the tensed atmosphere. Just some more scarce , anticipated details and Dolan would finally fall into blithely.

Andy planted the usual good morning kiss on his wife . Excusing himself for his aimless absence on lunch and venturing to the car . The fraction of 2 to months without seeing Y/N, made him tacit. Where was the power Dolan’s hold ? He couldn’t falter, not now. He would withhold and keep things conservative. His conscience screamed no , but he shut it off , not wanting to trust his instincts . Choosing the obliviousness.

Approaching her modern like house , the cars of topical police confused his comprehension. Incompetent to walk inside , albeit he promised not to care - a part which was got circumvented - some of his worry remained to Y/N . “Officer , is she okay ?” the concern in his eyes made the blue - dressed man doubt his accusation . “Sir , are you Mr.Dolan ?” the man let his white scribbling block down , paying full attention to the brunette . “In the flesh .” two more patrols approaching, no feeling of timidity in their eyes . His envision had to be mendacious . A prosaic one , more realistic. “Andy Dolan you are arrested for the murder of Y/N Y/L/N” his conception blurred, everything changing into automatic. His eyes caught the figure of his wife talking to another police man - she wouldn’t? Would she ?

Everything happened so quickly, the metal handcuffs were clutched onto his hand, the ignominious state making him sentient. He would go to prison and there was no denial in that . At least he would leave Eden .

/////////////// Now \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

He had learnt the news . Mariah was in all this . She had been informed about Andy’s illegal affair , not only with women but with drugs , too . On the one side, she had managed to plan her husband’s perfect suicide but the contradiction she received made her tentative. Therefore she visited the professionals . Sherlock’s beneficial - for both Mariah and him- and handily trap got Dolan arrested . They had planned everything, even the littlest detail . The plan was easy , yet complicated.

He would wake up at 7:15 a.m. as always . Head to the kitchen to make his morning coffee , catch up with Mariah who would accidentally leave the house . His phone would remind him about his last meeting with Y/N , where she would end up thing with him . Or what Mariah had decided to do for her . Y/N had left the island months ago when Mrs.Dolan appeared in her house and threatened to kill her and her soon-to-be-born child. As Andy would drive his way , Sherlock would leave his fingerprint everywhere , placing them carefully at the edges of the gun . Next step would be Y/N’s doppelgänger, nice and murdered next to the white rug .

The unbearable route of the dull prison . The thousand of men behind the metal bars , hungry for every kind of fight and sexual intercourse nettled his every atom . Compelling himself not to communicate with anyone , Andy , who had received a life imprisonment lost and the last bit of faith . There was no salvation for him , it never existed . “You have a letter .” the word taking him out of his dwelling thoughts. His family never sent him letters , not that they were coming . Drugs were forbidden, or that was the law applied . “Sender ?” “Unknown .” Andy wasn’t in the mood for playing games . This almost one years in prison erased all of his lenient future. Additionally, alleviating his last mendacious fantasies about life .

Taking the rigid piece of paper , the handwriting of a woman caught his attention . Refraining himself from toring it apart and throwing it to the trash can , he want for abstinence. Cutting the edges with a small knife which used to hide right down his pillow , the form a photo fall on the floor . Inhaling a piece of pure reluctance , Andy took the shiny piece of paper between his hands . The silhouettes of two girls laughing at each other quirked his eye brow . But her ineffable and disheveled beauty stopped his breath . A baby adjoining her side , made him caught the implication . The transparent eligibility to join this family causing him to incandescent. That was his child and his Y/N .

Last thing , eyes traveling at the bottom of the photo

- SHOT WITH NIKON 456 | 6/4/2021 | 7:56 p.m.

And they were alive .

////////////////////////////////////////

Tag list ; @ferndolan @brooklinn13 @lavenderahs @mllxngdonswife @kitty4860

If anyone wants to be removed or added just say it lol

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niqhtlord01 · 4 years ago

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Humans are weird: Cults

( Don’t forget to come see my on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord )

An extract from "The dark places humans go" by Volbus Ghahoun.

Throughout human history there have been several hundred different forms of religion across their tiny speck of a world ranging from the belief of a single all powerful being who created the universe, to a pantheon of beings human like in nature but with otherworldly powers, to even a collection of dried wheat strands dipped in sauce and meatballs that could fly.

Since their expansion into the stars this rate of worship appears to have multiplied with each passing cycle as human culture comes into contact with other species and their deities.

Most religions, such as the order of the five suns, have been adamant that no human will ever be admitted to their ranks while others, as in the case with the Sect of the Golden Martyr, have opened their arms wide to admit as many humans as possible and not only increase their influence but also their coffers with generous human donations.

While the human element within the major galactic faiths has been somewhat chaotic in nature, what has truly been concerning is the new found religious practices and groups that have remained outside of the public eye. These organizations are known in the human tongue as "cults".

These groups, often centered around a single world or cluster of planets, worship in ways that are often frowned upon by the galactic community if not straight forwardly made illegal. Normally making such forms of worship out right banned in such a manner has never been dreamt of until humanity began expanding into the stars. Generally humans were regarded as the latest gutter trash to have made their way into the stars and came to be regarded as such. Most civilizations containing them to the more run down quarters of their worlds and keeping them at an arms length. This treatment incidentally made the establishment of subset religions and cults easier as the unwarranted persecution and harassments drove countless humans to form groups that would at some level treat themselves better than the society that had condemned them.

On countless worlds all across the galaxy bands of humans settled. Some in densely populated worlds such as Necros IV, and others as desolate ice world of Walvi; humans would ban together and form societies within societies. These groups often focused around one of three structures in organization that were either based around a charismatic figure, a deity like being, or a way of thinking that was drastically alien to the society that surrounded them.

The first interpretation of the first group were often formed around a human of exceptional charisma and charm. They had the ability to interact with the varying different groups of society and win them over; making them feel as if they were family regardless of species. They practice what is known in human language as "Cult of personality" in which they make themselves out to be both larger than life itself while at the same time humble and one of the people.

These individuals would as they rose in power begin attracting more and more followers to their side. Often starting with the downtrodden humans on alien worlds they would quickly amass a loyal following. From here they would seek to expand and attract other species to their side as they began to preach against not only the social injustices done against the humans, but also against the other lower classes of a world as well.

From here these cults would end in one of two ways. The first and most frequent would be that the ruling class of the world would silence the charismatic human. This was the case with the so called Prophet of the Divine on the world of Habie Gamma. This had the opposite effect the rulers had intended as rather than feel sorrow at the loss of their leader the Prophets cult following had raised them to the status of holy martyr and openly rebelled against the governing classes. This triggered a civil war that is still ongoing despite some ten cycles passing.

The next outcome would be the established class would attempt to incorporate the charismatic leader into their governing structure to placate them. This in turn often only emboldened the leader to gather more and more followers as now the governing bodies had recognized them as legitimate, wither they wanted to or not. Within a few years the cult leader would be in such a position of power that their word became that of law itself. This was the case on Necros IV when the female human after several years of integration in the ruling class overthrew the government overnight after she claimed to her followers that the leaders had been corrupted by greed and could no longer be saved. After the violent coup she was installed as the planets first ever queen to which she still rules to this day.

The next kind of human cult and possibly the more fanatical of the two would be the religious cults often formed by humans worshipping something as a god like being.

On the water world of Hydro Prime a isolated group of human settlers began to worship the native aquatic animals as their divine protectors; in particular the massive tentacle beast part of the Amphibia family group but referred to as the "Mouth of god." No doubt named as such by the humans for the massive gaping mouth the amphibia could stretch to when consuming prey.

Isolated on their tropical island with no means of travel after a crash landing the humans began to treat the creature as the islands protector. In actuality the amphibia were highly territorial and had no doubt marked the island as part of their hunting grounds but to the humans the sensible idea of reasoning must never come across them.

When the amphibia was off hunting elsewhere other predators of the world would wander from the seas on to the island and attack the human survivors. As such the humans began making offerings of food to the amphibia to keep the creature close to the island at all times for protection. To the horror of the galactic community it was discovered that when not enough food could be gathered from fishing, hunting, or gathering on the island the humans would offer one of their own number to the beast.

The madness that would drive a species to turn on their own in such a manner must only lay within the black hearts of humanity.

The final cult is no doubt the most extreme and dangerous of the cult classifications. These individuals gather together not in praise of an individual or seemingly god like being, but in shared unity of an ideal.

This ideal can range from social structure to revenge to an end goal of horrific proportions; this group often contains the most dangerous and unstable individuals found within society.

When the Order of the Five Suns discovered that there was a human collective practicing their rights on Galvan VI they sent several dozen of their military faithful to the world and stormed the human compound. Several dozen humans escaped as the order's forces began ruthlessly slaughtering the humans and burning the skin from their muscles and leaving them to rot in the open sun of the world.

The survivors of the purge gathered together in the wilderness and made a dark pact with each other. For the unwarranted murder of their kin the group swore an oath of destruction against the Order of the Five Suns and from the ashes of their home formed the House of Burning.

From here members of the House of Burning split up across the galaxy and went to ever world that was allowed to worship the Order of the Five Suns peacefully. They started murdering practitioners and members of the order in the streets and dark alleyways of their worlds and displayed their charred bodies in the street for others to find. Some of the house's members were naturally caught and tried as criminals by the planets ruling bodies, but many more slipped through the authorities grasp and continued their bloody work of revenge.

As the murders continued members of the Order began to hide their symbols of devotion were once they had proudly proclaimed them. They traveled in packs to and rarely went out at night all the while petitioning the Order to send their military arms to defend them.

For the most faithful of the order the high council dispatched their forces who acted as both bodyguards and fear mongers. Not only were they there to protect the faithful but to remind those that cross the order why they should fear them.

The military arms quickly began clashing with the local populace trying to find the members of the house of burning but in so doing they drove more of the populace to seek out the house and join them. The hatred for the order spreading day by day as more and more disgruntled peoples sought out protection of their own from the order.

Soon were once had been murders in back alleys now became open clashes of arms in broad daylight as the house of burning established their own paramilitary force.

Within three cycles every world that held a bastion of the Order of Five Suns became a religious battleground littered with corpses. The violence only feeding into hatred the house of burning held towards the order as they continued their war, stating that they would not stop until the order was torn down and cast into the ashes of their own flames.

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #scifi #cults

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thelordstears · 3 years ago

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I wrote some more, because I, am an addict

“ In this world I've met some sorrowed souls, one of 'em stands in my mind like a candle, flickerin' lights of his mercy dyin' in my heart, and as he stares me down with madness filled eyes and a heart sick 'a trouble and decay, will he gun an old friend down all for vengeance on the man who broke all 'a us? “ - Quint Sanfield

“ I'm just an outcast lookin' for his heart, and as I travel this strange and mysterious land, I must wonder if my heart lays underneath foreign soils, cause as I dig my hands inta the soil of my hurt, I don't find anything but trouble and the decaying corpse of me. “ - Quint Sanfield

“ I'll keep on keepin' on like a sorrowed ghost train, findin' passengers along the railroad of my heart, and, maybe findin' a couple more people like me. People who understand the depths of secrets and trouble, perhaps I can be a lil less transparent with people who understand me, with people who also know what death tastes like on their heart." - Quint Sanfield

"If God loves all, does he look at the sinner who bleeds the river red with a gentle and forgiving smile? I can't help but wonder if he looks at me with something sorrowful swimming in his ethereal eyes, because as I tremble under a cruel man's trigger, I stain the river of my heart with unholy colors and sinful strokes of a brush.” - Jonah Worthshein

“ I met a man with death and cruelty lurking like ticking time bombs in his heart, and as he struck me down with his cane of trouble and told me to weep the mercy from my eyes, I succumbed. “ - Jonah Worthshein

“ There's pain beating inside my heart, and I know there always will be, because my hero, he's gone, and somedays I don't know how to go on without him. He was my brother, and as he became nothing but a missing poster in my mind, I wondered what I would do with his tattered cape. Somedays I hold it close to my chest and weep into it, for it holds questions I'll never find the answers too. But whenever that pain comes crashing down on me, my daughter picks me right up and tells me that I'm her hero, and I always will be. “ - Faymeline Borealis

“ My friend, I am insanity in an unwell mind, bursting with colors that shouldn't exist.” - Burns Mataugh

“ We are pioneers of madness following our Queen through the echoes of the night, for she saved us from the slow and insidious killer that is sanity. She stands tall and lean like a madness filled revolver, and as she kills peace, you must know its grave has been long overdue. “ - Burns Mataugh

“ The tranquility of succumbing to your beastly nature is like no other feeling I have ever felt, and as I stand here like an ill begotten question, sipping on a stream of crimson stained melodies and secrets, I know I would never yearn to be the sheep again. “ - Burns Mataugh

“ I once asked the world who it wanted me to be, and as I sat at the stream, madness seeping through my veins, I saw the reflection of God in the lake, and to me, he looked like a lonesome beast of sorrow." - Burns Mataugh

“ I'm just a washed up and broken dream wondering why all his childhood wonder turned into nightmares, stars imploding in his mind, cause damn, it's just a galaxy colored the shade of the nebula. “ - Brooke Bermgeir

“ They're always like, oh, you gotta be a boy, you gotta be a girl, but fuck that, I wanna be myself. “ - Skyler Syndicate

“ My families memory is like a cigarette against my lip, because all it does nowadays is kill me slowly with things I'll never have again. “ - Connie Averfollow

“ My mind is a panic room, the walls are etched in names I never wanna forget and faces I'll always miss, and as I cower in the corner my darkest fears come for me with eyes I used to see everyday, her eyes haunt me, her smiles have become a graveyard in my haunted little heart. And as I sink into my blankets and smoke another cigarette I pray that life will give me my lover's fate as my head hits the pillow." - Connie Averfollow

“ I don't know how humanity managed to become an enemy to itself, but damn, ain't it a shame we're losing the fucking war?" - Larry Devendra

“ People are always tellin' me I'm digging my own damn grave, but don't they realize it ain't my name etched on the stone?” - Zane Harrenburrow

“ It's kill or be killed these days, and regretfully I still breathe. “ - Rolft Van Gaver

“ I just wanna live despite the death in me." - Rolft Van Gaver

“ I, am where dreams go to die my friend.” - Moores Thomas

“ I'm a sinful bastard with a heart rotted bared on his extravagant sleeve, do you think a heart could possibly survive madness? It rotted, withered and decayed as I sputtered up blinding red lights and salvation.” - Moores Thomas

“ You'll live, but you won't survive. “ - Moores Thomas

“ Sometimes, we just gotta raise our fists instead of our white flag.” - Hunter Shallows

“ There's a garden 'a decay in my mind, two roses standin' tall, but all the others 'ave become black petaled ghosts, but I visit that garden if only ta see my roses still painted red. “ - Saria Romiro

“ We've both seen Hell in the eyes of people who were supposed to love us, but we found Heaven in each other's love. “ - Riell Romiro

“ I try my best, to stand tall, but somedays I'm struck down by the sorrow I feel and I can hardly reach the other side of paradise. Because in truth, my son's ghost still haunts me. He's in the corners of my memory, asking me why I didn't find him, and I give a regretful smile and say I tried my best. “ - Riell Romiro

“ I have met darkness in the eyes of a banshee, standing tall over me like a shadow that shrieks into my broken mind that I won't make it out of this darkness alive. But I take a fragile step forward and fix my little bowtie, knowing that the cruelty I've met is not me, but rather what I have seen. “ - Harlem Peixoto

“ These secrets in me hide deep within my cracked ribcage, nesting, waiting to blossom like a rose grenade, the shrapnel of lies and shadow splitting my heart in two. “ - Harlem Peixoto

“ My hands are stained in mystery, and as my mind brews up questions like it were some witches cauldron full of answers, I get to wondering how many of the people I searched for are still out there. “ - Harlem Peixoto

“ At some point, life presents you with a fork in the road, and which path you take determines who you'll be, one path leads to who you're supposed to be, kind, gentle, whole in some beautiful way, but the other path gives you things, but it also corrupts your heart and turns you into a wicked beast with cruelty living deep inside his troubled heart. Be careful when hate and cruelty whispers in your ear that you do not become these things. “ - Solomon Bones

“ My brother has always had my back, man. He's been there for me, he's kind of, my hero, ya know? He doesn't wear a cape fluttering in the breeze and he doesn't have laser eyes, he has burdens, he has scars, but most importantly, he has a kind heart. And that's what makes a hero in this broken world. “ - Solmon Bones

“ They've both seen the Hell of war, it drips down the notches 'a their spines and whispers lies inta their hearts, cause mate, war never leaves the innocent soul be. It's a beast draped in crimson, fur drippin' with innocence and forgotten men lyin' in freshly dug graves. When it smiles, ya see it's rifle fangs and bullet tongue, and as it charges, it leaves all soldier's ghosts 'a who they were. “ - Fallows Diamond

“ Mate, I've seen death in the shadows 'a graves that neva' shoulda been, I seen cruelty lyin' in the eye of a man with venom drippin' from the corner 'a his eyes. 'E was a slitherin' serpent in the garden 'a my mercy, firin' bullets inta me peace and askin' it ta bleed for all he'd done. And so, with regret, I say there ain't no peace in me heart. “ - Fallows Diamond

“ She stands in my mind like a howling regret, scratching at the confines of my skull to escape my memory, because she was my fuckin' hero, man. “ - Tristy Alden

“ I can still remember Sasha's gentle eyes, her heart worn on a cotton sleeved sweater, her heart beat was a melody I could listen too forever. I know sometimes I made it a struggle to love me, but no matter what, she was always.. there for me, and sometimes I wonder if I fucked it up. I hope she knows that I love her, even if we've been separated because of life's trickery and deceit. “ - Debrah Sabbatino

“ If you look at the pages of a history book you'll find me, stained in the bloodied ink, etched into the stones of war and cruelty. “ - Veltrexen

“ I have watched the kind fall through the scorching skies as people clapped and cheered for the death of the good hearted rabbits. And as I pull a top hat from the back room, I look for rabbits inside but I'm always pulling my sins from a hat and wondering if the innocence has left me behind in the dust of my cruelty. “ - Ellsworth Davis

“ I was just a girl looking for trouble in the ashen cigarette and love with a boy who wouldn't remember my name next Summer. “ - Carrie Hackenwood

“ I am not crazy, I would not quite put it that way. I am mad, I am twisted, I am broken, some extant form of Wyatt Demouchett. From the corners of my cracked ribcage, a beast started to roam, and ever so slowly he tore pieces from my heart to eat from, for a starving heart will always find itself in the maw of the ribcage.” - Wyatt Demouchett

“ My mind is a prison of thoughts and memories, and as I try and rip myself away from the confines of my skull I realize I can never rip this mind from me, for if I were to do such a thing, I would die in an empty prison cell. “ - Wyatt Demouchett

“ I am scalded flesh upon the battlefield, rusted bones in the grave of a boy I no longer am. “ - Wyatt Demouchett

“ If ya look deep inside my eyes you'll find little reflection 'a who I ain't creepin' about, little sorrows in the corners of my pupils, sitting there like dogs starvin' on a chain. “ - Sandro Colorfeid

“ Ya know, people are always saying I'm a hero, I saved so many god damn lives, but the way I see it, there's too many I didn't save to be considered any sort of hero. I sit here in the silence of my mind, sparking up cigarettes and memories, wondering how many bastards and cheats went right under my damn sniffer. Maybe a hundred, maybe only two, but even two bad men out in the wild can make a difference, huh? “ - Sandro Colorfeid

“ I'm starving bones looking for a grave that ain't never been dug wondering if this lonesome ghost is all I can ever be. “ - Sandro Colorfeid

"Humanity lost its fight against evil the day they gave it a name. “ - Zalrifear Dellrick

“ I am no longer tethered to humanity.” - Zalrifear Dellrick

“ I'm a crimson fucking bullet soaring towards all who wronged me and all who didn't, I'm insanity flying on wings of wax and loss. “ - Harvin Scoviney

“ The sane man just don't survive the insane one's wrath.” - Harvin Scoviney

“ I'm living like a landmine, whosoever steps on me is gonna feel that shrapnel dig into their fragile skin, and trust me, the sight won't be so pretty. “ - Harvin Scoviney

“ I'm a ticking time bomb and you best hope you ain't near me when I burst, cuz when I do, it's gonna be an explosion of broken bones and bloodied faces strewn about the concrete of my fucking rage. “ - Harvin Scoviney

“ Ya can yell for the boy I was, but he's buried in a pinewood box and brother, he's just charred bones in a casket. “ - Harvin Scoviney

“ Don't say I don' got what it takes to make it in this life without knowin' my damn past. “ - Carolann Tresparo

“ I'm old, I've seen just 'bout every sorrow there is ta see in this broken man's land, and as I spark up another old cigarette, smokin' away my lifespan with sparks in my dusty ribcage I getsa wonderin' when this ol' man will finally find himself a bit of peace. “ - Rayburn Manski

“ Ya know how it is, ya break a couple times, ya fall from yourself and wonder who the hell ya's sposed ta be, but eventually ya find the peace ya seek. But I'm different. I'm just a gambling man with his wicked little heart worn on a broken sleeve, wondering if these casino chips and blinding lights is all he could ever be. In truth, I don't know me, just who I used ta be. “ - Rayburn Manski

“ Don't pray for me, I don' missed out on every opportunity ta confess, I'm just sittin' on this old bench with a cigarette on my lip, smoke driftin' around me as I ponder on where I'll go when I die. “ - Rayburn Manski

“ I'm a ghost of who God wanted me to be.” - Hayton Mathers

“ Do you ever feel like, maybe you're a promise that's been broken by the Gods? They vowed to love you, vowed to be by your side, but life washed on by and scattered your pieces into the sand, so much so that they could no longer find who you were supposed to be? “ - Else Serafin

"Peace doesn't die, man, it just hides from the chaos sometimes. We just gotta wait for it to feel comfortable in the open, because honestly, chaos leaves a whisper in the wind, some sort of after noise of what happened to you.” - Aaron Crinklewick

“ That man stands lean like a vulture, and instead of the flapping of wings he's got the whinnying of a decaying and black horse, rusted hatchet strapped to his dusty black coat like an omen of what he'll do. “ - Allison Diamond

“ I met a man in the streetlights, he stood tall and lean like a flickering omen of death, and as he offered me his hand, to walk away with me to a place where all the freaks and wolves can be themselves, I put on a smile and found myself a family in the lights of the damning circus. I have since died. But I like the way this grave feels. “ - Zayleen Bevessa

“ He is a silent wolf, jaws gnashing at those who think they can escape the destiny of a circus soul. Together, we are the wolves of tomorrow, gnashing our jaws at the innocent with smiles of crimson and doll like features of cruelty. “ - Zayleen Bevessa

"Beauty knew my name, once. But since then it has withered. “ - Nishi Masago

“ I am a butterfly and a wasp wrapped into one vessel of anger and love that can bleed and fight, so when all my enemies come towards me with grins of sin and blades of death, I shall let my blade fall to my side and do the work for me. “ - Nishi Masago

“ I sit here like a forgotten candle 'a wax, my flame long since passed wonderin' why I didn't find myself in the essence 'a heroism. “ - Danya Cruz

“ In truth, I'm just a kid, my body grew up, but my heart is still just as young as it was thirty years ago. “ - Sametha Springton

“ I don't wanna never ending life, because in truth, I don't think I'd like what humanity would do with eternity.” - Sametha Springton

“ I've seen pain in snapshot crime scene photos and blood spilt on the streets I'd hear about in the news and weep over, but as Charlotte smiles and tells me the past is the past, I know I've got a wonderful future with her. “ - Oscar Forbes

“ I'm just a bullet casing washed to shore, waiting for somebody to pick me up and awe at the used up violence they've found nestled inside the cracks of a rock.” - Asher Broquel

“ I once swore an oath, that I'd protect the people. And I did, but did I ever think about protecting myself? Or was I so wrapped up in the thought that everyone else was a person but me, that I let myself bleed into someone that isn't really me? “ - Asher Broquel

“ Humanity is always growing and changing as flowers do each season, sometimes we're daffodils swaying in the wind, other days we're wilted roses with nothing but thorns, and somedays we're just a regretful weed, shivering in the cracks of the concrete. But all it took to make a flower beautiful was some water and light, and so as the sun rises and it begins to rain, can't you see we're meant to grow during this storm? We're not decaying, we're just growing from out this storm's soil." - Audrey Killva

“ Ya know, I met death in the eyes of a man with cruelty lurking in his veins, ribcage beating empty, his chest an empty night sky of the void. And as he told me I'd never be the same once I met him, he sure was right, huh? Cause as my son was ripped from this world, I knew a scar would be left on my heart like a threadwork patch of memories and sorrows I'd always know. “ - Barry Bosnia

“ She's a beacon of hope in a world so dark, and as her light shimmers like a star in the sky, I know there's a chance humanity will win its war against the dark. “ - Thituna

“ My heart is a lonely little ghost town, filled with cobwebs and dust, old decaying drawings of people I knew hung up on the hallways walls. And as I trace my fingers over the threadwork scar of memories in my mind, I come to realize I'm just another scar in my own heart. “ - Scarlet Westfield

“ I am a cold water sin, dripping from the corners of your eyes and bleeding from the edges of your spine. “ - Devella Minstreiva

“ I, am a woman of the night, dancing so elegantly in the cruel light of the pale moon, sinning as Devil's do. The scared little girl I was is begging me to stop, begging me to turn back, but with a smile stained red, I keep forward on this path of broken bones that are never my own. “ - Devella Minstreiva

“ I've got blood on my hands from men who'd be better off breathing, but sometimes, you have to justify the sin to survive.. because when you step foot on a battlefield, you aren't really yourself. You're this distorted version of who you are, baring a rifle as if it would bring you glory, I was still Adam Eavington when I was at war, but I wasn't me. “ - Adam Eavington

“ I know it feels like this darkness is all we can be, but don't you understand, shadows are deceiving? They follow us and mimic our every action, but those doppelgangers aren't us, they're a twisted vessel of what we never were. Because in truth, we'll never truly achieve the title of darkness, for that implies we're able to be without light, but with the sun shining on us, and the moon washing us in its pale yellow glow, we've found our lighthouse. “ - Adam Eavintgon

“ This is a war, and I'm the only enemy.” - Adanya Oni

“ Eternity is such a damning and distraught curse, and as I seek to find me, I find mirrors standing in front of me, regret flickering in their eyes, and I realize the only person who could ever be there for me, is me. I trace my fingers over the glass of my own cheeks, running a gentle finger over my own glass lip, asking myself why the only connection I have is with the woman in the mirror. Heavy is the burden of being myself. “ - Albersteen

“ I have grown so tired of me.” - Albersteen

“ I've seen a helluva lot in dis world, I seen angels fallin' bloodied from da sky and cruelty smilin' in the eyes 'a death, but I ain't da things I've been through, eh? I'm Abraham feckin' Carlson, and there's sumfin' beautiful about dat. “ - Abraham Carlson

“ I've been through quite a bit, but despite all this, I live and breathe like I was supposed to do, sadly, some people don't get this opportunity, some people are ripped into this world only to be killed the day they were born because of people who don't know how to love. So to all the broken, I'll be a lighthouse at sea, and though those waves crash down so violently and it feels like you've got a ship but no steering wheel, know that I'll lead you home with a light that never flickers. “ - Sandra Dickens

“ I'm Lorelei Metals, not my scars.” - Lorelei Metals

“ I know that this world feels like a big ol' cage, trapping us in the echoes of our mortality, but the key is acceptance that your memory will live on forever in the hearts of those you've loved. “ - Lorelei Metals

“ There's a devil and an angel within us all, and it's up to us to decide which one wins the battle waged inside our crooked lil hearts." - River Metals

“In my eldritch stride I steal all things holy.” - Algonul

“ I am all the shadows accumulated into all seven deadly sins, wiping star light from my lip as I take a taste of all that is holy and let it rattle in my throat. “ - Algonul

“ I am nothing more then a vessel in which darkness lives.” - Algonul

“ I'm a cruel man, and as you look for any sort of mercy in my eyes, you'll find it staring down the barrel of my fucking revolver. “ - Gilderoy Vinefroker

“ I'm a sinner with his heart bared on his sleeve, look at all those scars, all those bullet holes, they're proof I've survived, and if I've lived through all these old assassination scars and treason laced holes, do you really think I can't survive you? “ - Gilderoy Vinefroker

“ I'm screaming into a void of my broken sorrows, wondering why this abyss stares at me with unblinking eyes.” - Annalise Valley

“ When she holds me close to her chest I feel like I can finally be me, as she tucks strands of my hair behind my ear I know I'm gonna be okay, and as she kisses me soft with gentle lips, I know love is a magical thing, healing scars that hands can't touch. In her heart I found a beautiful song, and as I listened to its rhythm and leaned in close, she took my heart in her rough yet gentle hands and told me she'd heal all the broken parts inside. I don't know how I can possibly thank her, but as she tells me she loves me, I know that safe can't even begin to describe how I feel when I lay my head in her lap. “ - Amila Hemizvowe

“ I'm a girl of revolution and smoke, standing sturdy and tall amidst the war I've waged against the weakness that used to make me, but nowadays as I pull back the hammer of this revolver I don't flinch. Because killing has become second nature, and so as I stare down he who made me, I'll let him drop with my human nature." - Kaytlie Dextor

“ My heart is built of buried bones and dying secrets, and as all this violence seethes like rage in me, I know I'm just not the girl I used to be. “ - Kaytlie Dextor

“ In this world, there's cruel men who need to be put down like the dogs they are, and so with my jacket of hidden knives, dare you call me Karma? “ - Cosmina Winchester

“ I put up emotional walls in my mind to keep people out of my heart, because in all honesty there's a certain sense of freedom, in being able to control the way your heart beats. “ - Cosmina Winchester

“ I'm falling from grace on wings of fragile bone sanity, always asking if who I am is good, but I shudder with horror as I see the words flash like crimson on a screen in my mind, "Outlook not so good." I met a devil in the confines of an orphanage I should've been safe at, but he sipped on his delusions so much so that he'd become them, and as his shifty eyes glanced towards me, his boney fingers wrapping around my collar, dragging me to a room of darkness, I knew my life was over before it ever began. “ - Olive Junkshire

“ That man called him a Devil, but I always believed he was a fallen angel, clutching at the clouds with human fingers trying to find anything to stop him from falling regretful through the atmosphere of his sorrow. “ - Olive Junkshire

“ Maybe there aren't any heroes, maybe there aren't any villains, just people who took different god damn paths. “ - Ashelice Curt

“ I'm not a saint, but maybe I'm halfway there." - Ashelice Curt

“ Monsters are always human, they always have the kindest smiles, but they wear grins with bullet fangs, silver revolver glistening like death in the smile of a rich beast. “ - Ballen Morfellos

“ He wears my pain like a jacket, his sins hiding just underneath his sleeve, darkness nestled inside the fabric of my hurt, but I'll wear his pain like a fucking bullet grin. And as he stares down the barrel of my revolver, will he plead guilty and ask for mercy, or will he stand like a statue and greet his death with insanity bleeding from his forehead? “ - Bellerose Kivinstein

“ I was human, once. It was beautiful, the way the flowers recoiled and withered as I stepped into the garden, how the trees howled in pain as I scratched human claws against their bark. I am not life, my friend, but the opposite of it. “ - Bezeltorren

“ Truth is we're all a mosaic 'a all the people we've met and all the things we been, so as this light shines through me I know I'll always be somethin' beautiful, won' I? “ - Rosaline North

“ Some men like ta call 'emselves coyotes howlin' in the dark, and once I met a man in the forests who called himself just another animal, biting and barking at anythin' that gave him a reason. But ya know what? If he's jus' another animal, then I'll be jus' another got damn hunter. “ - Rosaline North

“ I've been goin' knuckle ta knuckle with evil men ever since I stared me rage ridden father in the eye, and so as I stumbled through life in a haze, wonderin' when I'd find myself in the eye of some bloody peace, Hymond caught me in 'is arms and danced with me in a storm 'a peace and love ever aching. That man is brave as all hell, and with his heart scarred and fragile in me hand, I kiss his wounds and stitch the scars in 'is mind together so we can always dance so beautifully.” - Cleopatra Peterson

“ I'd never met a soul so brave and beautiful until my eyes met her steely gaze. “ - Samantha Robertson

“ The world ain't wicked, but people sure as shit can be." - Samantha Robertson

“ I'm not the best man in the world, I've killed, I've cheated at cards and gotten people hurt, but at least I'm halfway fucking decent. For Naomi holds my fragile and scarred heart with a smile that saves the goodness inside of me. When she holds my hand, and tells me with my scarred and rough hands she trusts me completely, I know that I'll be okay despite the murder and rage that nestles in between the cracks of my ribcage. She is my peace, and I will do whatever it takes to keep her in my heart. So with my sin etched bones I pray that God is forgiving to he who has a kind, yet murder scarred heart. “ - Perov Teras

“ With a heart so stained, and a mind so scarred, I walk this path knowing it is Hell I deserve, but alas, Naomi says God forgives he who fights for the side of the right, and so I pray to every God listening to this poor broken soul that for once in my God forsaken life, I do not stray left of this path I tread on tattered tap dancing shoes." - Perov Teras

“ I am a fragile beast, please, spare me of the point end of your blade, I was never savage, only weak and frail, hiding in a corner of my mind so dark it'd turn any star into a shadow. “ - Beverly Himisear

“ I can look deep into the eyes of who I am and find someone I'm not swimming in my dark pupils, and as I recoil and wither in the sight of who I've become, I must ask why fate vowed against the troubled girl. “ - Beverly Himisear

“ I suppose this is all I can ever be, and so with sorrow lurking in my chest, sitting there fragile and gentle like a forgotten toy in a chest of more loved dolls, I rust away into something forgotten by time and me. “ - Beverly Himsear

“ As my brothers went disappearing in the night, I didn't know if I'd ever be okay again, cuz in truth, they were my heroes, and without them I felt so lost. But as Rebelle takes me by the hand and tells me we'll make it through all the treachery, I know I'll be okay. With them I feel so safe, and as they squish my widdle cheeks and calls me their cute little gremlin, I know that I couldn't possibly be more in love then I am. “ - Marine Scoviney

“ Its been such a better place since they came along, and as they kiss me gently under the light of the sun, I feel my heart burst with colors that only exist in the mind and soul. “ - Marine Scoviney

“ Oh I was just another starving question, but my answer was always dark and twisted, a decaying little rose in the dying cracks of emptiness and pain. So as I stalk these fields, cigar on my lip bursting sparks and chaos from my lip, dare you trifle with a dead man walkin'? “ - Borat Coolraymo

“ My friend, a skinny and starving boy is easy prey for a lion, and so I had ta become somethin' other then the rabbit, standing daintily in the field of wolves who intimidated the lion. So, I grew into my red fur, ripping into my skin, becomin' something less then human as I arose from my coffin a beast of a different kind. I ain't just some skinny and starvin' boy of Africa no more brother, I'm a red lion of the O'Connel outlaws, and as I grin, blood on my teeth, you best know it ain't mercy I'm firing from my revolver. “ - Borat Coolraymo

“ I wasn't born for peace, but maybe I can fight for it. I can feel the colors bleeding from my soul like paint dripping down a canvas, and as I rock myself back and forth, asking myself why this world didn't protect me, I come to realize that the world never made anyone safe. Because the world is dangerous, and I learned that too young. “ - Bowie Hunton-Blather

“ I feel as if, as I roll in these sheets I'm sleepin' in a strangers bed, wonderin' where who I am went, but as these blankets wrap 'round my throat like a noose, I know this, is who I am, and from now on out, always will be. As the darkness encroaches upon my vision, and I fall inta the dark, I know that no matter what I do, I will not escape being this beast called Shawn Moot. So with tragedy in my veins, regretfully I continue ta be me. “ - Shawn Moot

“ I can hardly travel these lands of trouble without finding the edge of a blade, running my fingers over the metal as to bleed this man I'm not from my finger tips. But I'm skin, I'm bone, I'm thoughts and withering roses, but the one thing I'm not, and never fucking will be, is Shawn Moot, and that, is perhaps the greatest tragedy of all." - Shawn Moot

“ I was just a wild gal, dancing at clubs and bars, wondering where my life went, but perhaps that too, was life. Living wild and free, trying to find someone to make my colors burst like fireworks booming in the night sky. I met him in a bowling alley, striking down pins with his buddies, and as I caught his eye, I wondered if perhaps that was life I was staring at. Sure, we had our troubles, we had our hardships, we had breaks, and we had fights. But in the end, I don't think I'd want anyone's heart but Rolando's in my gentle hands. “ - Bridget Shontell

“ My life has been troubled, I've met a man who barked at car lights and shadows, looking for any reason to bite, but I've also met peace in the eyes of a goofy and highly stupid guy who makes me laugh uncontrollably. “ - Bridget Shontell

“ Once upon a time I told myself I'd never dance again, but as she beckons me to the spotlight and tells me this dance would be her pleasure, I follow her, swaying gently back and forth into the light with a pained smile creeping up the corners of my lip. “ - Alexandria Hartman

“ As she dances fingers against my scars and tells me she loves me, I know that somewhere in this heart is a flame, sparking for a revolution against the darkness in me. But alas, I have always been a moth drawn to her own fucking flame, sparking up cigarettes in hope to find the light that draws me ever nearer to my demise on a golden sunrise. “ - Alexandria Hartman

“ I've been faced with trouble all my life, smoking cigars wonderin' if these sparks would be enough ta keep me warm, but they never was brother, they never was. “ - Wesley Kamstool

“ A good friend of mine once said that we're all just tryin' to be somebody, and maybe the fact that we're striving for that, means we've already grasped it. But I've always been a ghost, a grave etched with no name, and so am I really someone, or have I always been a lonely no one, sitting on the edge of a cigar, rising from it like the smoke of a dying man's breath? “ - Wesley Kamstool

“ Perhaps as life looks at me with sorrowed eyes, she mourns for the man who never lived, but if she could dance her fingers against my cold cheek, would she find Spring and Summer blossoming in my broken smile? Or would she find Winter and decaying bones ripping through my chest? Maybe she wouldn't find a man, but rather a ghost pretending ta be one. “ - Wesley Kamstool

“ Perhaps this grave of war and old gunshots is all I can really ever be. “ - Bri Calzato

“ All these scars have killed me ever so gently, and as I'm laid in the soil next to the worms and moles, I must wonder if this is what it means, to be alive. But this is no life I've lived, it's been death, disguised as the greater good. “ - Bri Calzato

“ I yearn for the gentle touch of someone who'll love me, battle scars and all, for maybe love would heal the wounds sitting idle on my breath, but these scars are roots dug deep into my heart, wrapping around my ribcage until I can hardly breathe without pieces of dirt and pain ripping themselves from out my throat. “ - Bri Calzato

“ I honestly fear I am nothing but a bullet cased grave, etched with a name that is not quite my own, and as I trace my fingers over the words and numbers that tell me when and how I died, I get this haunting feeling that I've never really lived. As if I am a ghost, haunting her own lonely little grave where all the flowers and roses came to wither and fade like me." - Bri Calzato

“ I'm caught in this war I wage in my mind, traveling this labyrinth of scars that sit in the hallway of my brain like sorrowed questions never to be answered by this heartbeat, and as I wade gently in these waters, they start flowing red with blood that has not ever been my own. “ - Brooke Woodward

“ With our blades we charge, but alas, as we swing them our hearts become blackened ash of a dying willow tree, and we have always been standing underneath the shade. “ - Brooke Woodward

“ My heart is such a long maze, and as I traverse through its shadows I wonder whom would so care to travel alongside me, for this dark place is a part of me, and to love me means you too, must be dark. “ - Brooke Woodward

“ I have come to the horrifying conclusion that we simply aren't human, anymore. We're little more than beasts, ripping at the seers threadwork fabric set before us, we follow blindly into destiny with hearts of steel and gnashing teeth, and gently, ever so gently the seers cut us from thread and watch us fall down ever so down into a hole of our own inhumanity. Perhaps this is their way of punishing us. For we poisoned the garden with our wicked hearts, asking why all the roses turned black, and why the daffodils withered and died. “ - Brooke Woodward

“ Ya know, as those two people fell in spurts of red and my misery, I knew I wasn't ever gonna be the same, so at the cost of another boy's peace, I protected my own. But I guess murder never gave peace to anyone, huh? It hides in the cracks of your heart, and as it sits there like a forgotten secret, you know it'll always be the blood ya bleed. “ - Bruce Willingfell

“ My sons tell me they love me, they say I'm their hero, Ragnar says as I accepted him as the king he is instead 'a the princess the world tried ta make him, he knew I would always be a hero ta me. And Jaspel would always smile, and say I'm a good father. But they don't know the murder in my heart, the secret bloodstains in my ribcage. “ - Bruce Willingfell

"The world never betrayed me brother, but you did." - Ralph Artvaina

"Once upon a time I wished upon shooting stars, asking for the mercy of my decaying, bruised and ugly heart. But alas, I found wishes never come true, and so here I sit, heartless." - Hartman Brokedallo

"You know, I've had too many mother's ta count, too many black toothed bloodied knuckled father's ta speak each individual name of the fists that broke me down ta tears and bone. I ain't never had family, every brother I ever had pushed me down flights 'a stairs and called me an outcast of his family. Every sister stabbed me in the fuckin' back, but when I get ta lookin' ta people who ain't known me for all that long, and I see some sense of, redemption swimmin' in the river of their pupils, I get ta wonderin' if family is found in ghosts and people mercy failed." - Ralph Artvaina

"I stared her eye ta eye, and I can't say I found a human swimmin' in them blackened, decaying pupils." - Ralph Artvaina

"I think I died the day I stared mercy dead in the eye and said, "This just ain't no truthful sort of matter." - Ralph Artvaina

"Justice isn't something we can change the definition of. If you twist the words and tangle the truths, you can't call it justice, all you can really do is call it what it is. A stone cold lie based in cruelty, and an agenda." - Hartvorth Devilsky

"Circumstance pushes people a helluva lot more than trust." - Darmina Lightsworth

"It is only in death I feel the presence of life." - Vokens Samtino

"If life is not an adventure, I'd much rather do something other than live." - Lewis Kifle

"Every once and awhile, God must let Lucifer roam earth as a reminder that not all in this world is beautiful." - Royal Hondros

"The heart that loves, perhaps, is the one that breaks." - Lukell Calderi

"I have found that she is not a garden, as those wither. She is not the sun, for it sinks, nor is she the moon, nor the stars, for her beauty and grace is unfaltering, and as I see her warrior's smile, I know that perhaps to be alone with her in this maze of my heart is not such a damning fate." - Brooke Woodward

"In that old revolver of secrets and the sins of a ghost, I met the darkness in me and walked willingly into the decay of my own broken heart." - Callina Troubrewskey

"He's a stain on my heart I don' wanna see go." - Dori Thievesmire

"To become something a little less than yourself is the loneliest achievement of all. And as I sit here, in a corner of my heart, I come to realize how lonely I really am." - Harpwrit Thievesmire

"If my heart was a chord, a melody of seven strings, I don't think anyone would care to listen." - Alckoline Thievesmire

"I looked at the world through a dead man's point of view, and came to realize death is not so peaceful after all. To sit lonely in your casket with the worms and bastards would be such a sorrowful sort of damnation." - Elfine Thievesmire

"Inside of me something real started to grow like a cancer, blossoming from my chest." - Myka Thievesmire

"I'd never claimed to meet death until I looked into the eyes of a Devil, who with a crooked and wicked grin tore his children, along with all whom knew them kicking and screaming from a garden of Eden." - Devanhue Connor

"Screw that destiny shit, take hold of your reigns, kid, don't lose control like I did. Cuz the only fate I can imagine that's worse than being me, is becoming me." - Denzel Thievesmire

"I'm one strike away from death, kid. Don't go damnin' yourself ta this fate of dead end home runs and hollow bones." - Denzel Thievesmire

"I can sense the death of identity in your smile, Rupen. Dare you place it in the tips of my fingers, only to watch it flitter away like cinders from my cigarette?" - Rucarlo Devinski

"Evil where's the face of the every day man." - Clarice Sanchez

"Aching and gentle I lost my heart. It was a cruel melancholy tune, drifting through the skies like a soft cinder, and as I reached for it with greedy paws, it slipped like water between my fingers." - Maxadellas Zonestrame

"It is not so easy, finding who you are in hiding echoes." - Camilla Davidson

"If you are loving, my father, give me all I had back and beg for forgiveness from the man peace never seemed to know. But I suppose you can not give me graves without grief." - Alastair Sambridge

"Here I sit, like sacrilege on my tongue." - Alastair Sambridge

"A grave is creeping up the corners of your sorrowed eyes." - Royal Hondros

"It is always Winter, in my ribcage." - Benjamin Samahil

"If she were to dig her fingers into the essence of my heart, I fear all she'd find is a dark shadow of who I am. And as tar and crimson spills between the fingers of the pure, does the kind become cruel? Does the loved become the hated?" - Benjamin Samahill

"I died long before I met you, you simply shoveled dirt in an already decaying casket." - Benjamin Samahill

"I met a man in the dying lights of my faith, and with an almost, life saving smile he changed the bulbs." - Rhys Breeze

"I am an extant form of man, no more am I Benjamin Samahill, just the vessel in which he once lived." - Benjamin Samahill

"I lay my hand on a Bible and it withers like the mercy in my heart." - Antonio Sharp

"Some people will take their bows and their arrows and catch fire to the flint headstones of death sitting idle on the wood of their instrument of murder. Some people will always crave chaos, but a true warrior craves peace, above all else." - Enzvilina Harbrita

"That woman dances with a ghost and expects to find something living beating inside her heart." - Hoshino Akinori

"Pieces 'a his reflection become marred with mine." - Sandro Colorfeid

"Is it really madness if it brings you peace?" - Moores Thomas

"My brother once said he was a rabid Stoneshire dog, and it's with fear dripping down the notches of my spine I say, I'm a blood hungry Stoneshire wolf." - Mackton Stoneshire

"Every man who's lain dead at my feet haunts me, but, with a badge on my chest and a heart that rarely feels, I pull another trigger and call it justice." - Vayton Camilo

"In a kill or be killed world, I must regretfully call myself more then a grave." - Vayton Camilo

"My brother looks at me with human eyes, but it's hate tangled in his love for his own life that makes him something less then the man I knew." - Marvin Grudges

"You ever look at yourself through the lens of someone you know and realize, you ain't never been the good guy?" - Marvin Grudges

"In the gunfire smoke of another day, I traverse through the heart of war, wondering if it beats inside my ribcage." - Ulysses Tenbarge

"It's not life that kills people, it's not cruelty or the sea. Trust in strangers and people with kind smiles has killed more men then I've ever watched go down in sprays of red mortality." - Narthal Vormalew

"I met cruelty in the eyes of a widow, heart bared black on her empty sleeve." - Dante Dunbar

"I don't understand the fundamental roots of evil, all that I know is, I'm swingin' from 'em." - Dante Dunbar

"They stood still at his grave, like vultures, who knew their job was done." - Sarvel Humington

“ You want protection, right? You wanna make a name for yourself in the notches of history? Then come with me, cause this town is full of crooks and broke back cheats, we're all reapers here, so let me give ya your damn scythe." - Sarvel Humington

"Tell me somethin' kid, if a man can look death eye ta eye every day of his God forsaken life, what do you think he'll do when faced with life?" - Sarvel Humington

"I was like a wet cat, scratchin' and tearin' at anything that got damn near two inches 'a me. And god damn brother, something about that chaos just killed me." - Sarvel Humington

"I would watch for monsters under your bed, child. You have no idea what hides in the wake of nightmares and dreams." - Mizella Shrew

“ You can't jump into the casket of secrets and expect it not to close." - Moores Thomas

“ Sometimes there's a little monster prowling in the depths of our mind, he stamps his little feet, always wearing a cute little frown, but don't let that grumpiness inside of him get to your heart, because that's when it gets real difficult to exorcise this nasty little monster who holds you down. “ - Krystie Shontell

“ am caught in a bad dream, except every time I close my eyes, I escape it. If only for a mere night, I escape my mind. I've never been able to dream, really. My mind doesn't conjure images for me to see, well, in a sense it does, just not in the sense that I dream. I can picture a meadow of grass, I can picture the nights of terror, I can picture the darkness inside of my mind, but I don't particularly dream. I hit the pillow and wake up. And on the rare occasion that I do dream, it is my mother I see in the dark. “ - Zachariah Rinderez

“ I am a king without his crown, wondering why his kingdom ever followed him into battle. “ - Bardzimi Collingwood

“ They call this strange land, New York city, they say it's filled to the brim with corruption, evil spilling from the side of the glass. “ - Russel Cormelius

“ You can deny the innate desire within to hunt down those who kicked you down, but is it really worth it, to let your enemies escape and watch as they continue their ways? As they say, be merciful to the cruel and you're cruel to the merciful. “ - Pascal Von Reddix

#writing #characters #dialogue #author #coollines #characterdevelopment #characterwriting

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monshiro-san · 4 years ago

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Diabolik Lovers ~Haunted Dark Bridal~ Subaru Route, Endings - Summary

[Español]

Masterlist (by dialovers-translations)

[Subaru - Ecstasy] ←

Endings

There’s 3 endings — ending 03 or “brute end”, which would be like a “bad ending”, ending 02 or “brute ending”, the equivalent of a “normal ending”, and ending 01 or “vampire ending”, that could also be called the “good ending”.

(Brute end by dialovers-translations)

Ending 03 - Brute end

Yui waits for Subaru’s return, and feels like he calls out for her in dreams. When she wakes up, Subaru still hasn’t returned to the mansion, and a familiar brings her a bag with Subaru’s silver dagger and a bloody white rose.

(Brute end by dialovers-translations)

Yui: “This is the bat that is always passing me messages…right?”

Yui: “…Ah, there’s a small bag tied around one of its feet. Inside is…”

Yui: “Why did that bat bring me Subaru-kun’s silver knife and a white rose?”

Yui: “…Huh? The white rose’s slightly red…There’s blood on it.”

Yui: “Don’t tell me…”

Yui realizes that he won’t come back, and regrets not stopping him as he was leaving. Yui feels that she has to help Subaru no matter what, and decides that she’d even abandon God to do it, which makes a woman appear. She tells Yui that she was inside of her, and couldn’t be freed because of her strong mentality and Subaru’s protection.

(Brute end by dialovers-translations)

Cordelia: “Ufufu. My heart has finally started beating.”

Yui: “Heartbeat…”

Cordelia: “Exactly. You are nothing but a vessel, you see.”

Cordelia: “For a great existence such as myself, that is.”

The explanation for Yui’s weird heartbeat was the presence of this woman— the heart is hers, and it was implanted on Yui so she could use her body. She tells Yui that she knew Subaru, and she thought that he was vaguely aware of this happening, so that’s why he refused to drink her blood, trying to not let the woman free.

(Brute end by dialovers-translations)

Cordelia: “Well, it seems like Subaru-chan was vaguely aware of the situation, so I suppose it can’t be helped.”

Cordelia: “Ufufufu, exactly~ That boy held back from drinking your blood after noticing me.”

Cordelia: “However, if he had simply drunk the blood enhanced by my powers without worrying about someone like you…”

Cordelia: “He might not have had to suffer such a pathetic death, you know?”

Cordelia: “Finally, I’ll give you a little bit of my powers as a reward for living for my sake.”

Cordelia: “You want to avenge him, don’t you? Before your soul is completely devoured by mine and disappears forever.”

Cordelia: “Go ahead and kill that detestable man with my Vampire powers!”

The woman’s plan was to use Yui’s body to kill a “detestable man”, but Yui avoids it by stabbing her heart with Subaru’s knife.

~~~~~~~~

(Manservant end by dialovers-translations)

Ending 02 - Manservant end

Yui decides that she can’t wait until Subaru comes back, and goes to the castle with the rest of the brothers, where she suspects he is. Upon arriving, she sees Subaru fighting with the politician she saw on TV— he turns out to be Sakamaki Tougo, the brother’s father and head of the Sakamaki family. Christa was dead by his side, who was killed by Subaru.

(Manservant end by dialovers-translations)

Yui: (When I found out he was at the castle and headed over there with everyone.)

Yui: (Subaru-kun and a man were glaring each other down….)

Yui: (At first I thought they were simply quarreling, but it seemed like they were seriously trying to take the other down.)

After this, Subaru and Yui escape to the woods as per Shuu’s advice. When they stop to rest, Subaru tells her that his mother was considered as one of the most beautiful women in her family when she was young, and that is why she was called “white rose”. Apparently the white rose was corrupted with Subaru’s birth — Sakamaki Tougo assaulted her, and Christa ended up going crazy as her immortal life went on.

(Manservant end by dialovers-translations)

Subaru: “Exactly. Ever since she gave birth to me, mother became a lunatic…”

Subaru: “However, even though she was corrupted by us. Even though she resented us.”

Subaru: “My mother was unable to kill us, nor was she allowed to take her own life.”

Subaru: “Our sense of time is different to you humans who only live for a measly hundred or so years.”

Subaru: “We have no other choice but to continue living our endless lives in madness…”

Subaru: “That’s why, rather than having her continue suffering at the hands of the old man while living in madness forever, I decided to…put an end to it with my very own hands.”

Subaru starts telling Yui something about her heart, seemingly knowing what’s happening with it, but he changes his mind and tells her not to worry about it.

While Subaru also wanted to kill his father, he realized that his present self couldn’t do it because of the difference in power between them. Yui suggests that he drinks her blood as help, since he always feels full of energy when doing so. They finally agree that Yui will be his “prey” forever as long as Subaru only drinks her blood. As Subaru drinks her blood, Yui feels herself fading away.

~~~~~~~~

(Vampire end by dialovers-translations)

Ending 01 - Vampire end

Subaru goes back to the mansion after killing his father, which gets him exiled from the family by Shuu, and has to leave the house.

(Vampire end by dialovers-translations)

Shuu: “ーー For fuck’s sake. You really made a mess, Subaru…”

Subaru: “…Yeah. I’ll make sure to leave by the end of the night.”

Subaru: “I guess I should at least thank you for taking care of me.”

Shuu: “Don’t die, okay?”

Subaru gifts Yui his silver dagger as a reward for waiting for him. He tells her that the dagger was given to him by his mother when he was a child, and was asked to kill his father with it, who had assaulted her and made her go crazy. Because of her beauty, she was called the “white rose” by her family and these events, Subaru’s birth included, made the white rose wither.

(Vampire end by dialovers-translations)

Subaru: “Ever since she gave birth to me, mother became a lunatic…”

Subaru: “However, even though she was corrupted by us. Even though she resented us.”

Subaru: “My mother was unable to kill us, nor was she allowed to take her own life.”

Subaru: “Our sense of time is different to you humans who only live for a measly hundred or so years.”

Subaru: “We have no other choice but to continue living our endless lives in madness…”

Subaru: “That’s why, rather than having her continue suffering at the hands of the old man while living in madness forever, I put an end to it…”

Subaru: “…I just can’t forgive.”

Subaru: “Not that guy for forcefully tearing the petals off the white rose, nor myself for making it wither.”

Subaru: “That’s why I got rid of him.”

Subaru asks about her heart, seemingly knowing what’s happening with it, and comments that his uncle is also quite suspicious. Yui, surprised, tells him that after Subaru came back to the mansion, her heart feels totally normal again.

(Vampire end by dialovers-translations)

Subaru: “…How’s your heart?”

Yui: “My heart? Right now I don’t have any problems? Speaking of which, I haven’t had any pain since you left.”

Subaru: “I see…”

Subaru: “…Did she…disappear…?”

Yui: “Subaru-kun? What’s wrong?”

Subaru: “…No. It’s nothing.”

(Vampire end by dialovers-translations)

Yui: “Is that as your prey? But lately you haven’t been drinking my blood as often, right?”

Subaru: “…Because I didn’t know what my old man and uncle were after…”

Subaru: “As long as I didn’t unnecessarily trigger her by sucking too much of your blood, you should have been able to continue living your life as you’ve always had.”

Yui: “Your father and uncle? What is their goal…? And who is this ‘she’? “

Subaru: “…That’s part of the past now. Just remain ignorant to the things you don’t need to know.”

Subaru tells her that Yui is the new white rose, and he plans to get rid of the madmen that will target her. Yui asks to stay by his side, leaving the mansion together. Subaru accepts, telling her that he got attached to her with time since she always looked at him even though he was “filthy”. He also warns about her Awakening being in an advanced state, and drinking his blood will complete it, so they’ll be able to live together eternally.

(Vampire end by dialovers-translations)

Subaru: “I’m talking about the future but…White roses are still blooming.”

Subaru: “There’s still plenty of madmen out there targeting these white roses.”

Subaru: “I’ll go and get rid of those before they can strike.”

Yui: “White roses? There’s more except for your mother?”

Subaru: “…Yeah.”

Subaru: “My own exclusive white rose of the finest quality.”

(Vampire end by dialovers-translations)

Yui: “However, I want to walk alongside you.”

Yui: “Please. Won’t you take me with you?”

Subaru: “I’ve actually been thinking of how I can sneakily take you with me without those guys noticing this whole time.”

(Vampire end by dialovers-translations)

Subaru: “You’re already pretty far into your awakening. If I were to drink blood in your current state…”

Subaru: “ーー My blood.”

Subaru: “If I were to give you my blood right now, you’d end up walking the same path of eternal life like me.”

[Subaru - Ecstasy] ←

#diabolik lovers #haunted dark bridal #videogame #translation #summary #sakamaki subaru #subaru #otome #screenshot

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brokenjardaantech · 4 years ago

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Blue-tinted Red Walls (Chapter 3: A piss-poor guide on how to be (and not to be) a Human)

my entry for the @dbhau-bigbang. also part of the groom lake aftermath series.

chapter summary:

In the past, Reyes and Scott met each other for the first time.

In the present, Connor resumes his investigation and has lunch with Hank.

In the past, Fadia schemes.

also on ao3

---

Before

Sara finished logging her observations and the changes in Reyes’ coding for the day and was unsurprised when she saw the man gone. A week into his activation and he already treated the mansion as his home, roaming freely around and touching and sometimes licking things he found interested in or needed to be tested for whatever reasons an android would find necessary, and every time she brought him for a walk or a trip to somewhere she randomly picked, no one actually noticed that he was different, that he was not human at all.

Which meant that her experiment was a success.

Today was Scott’s birthday, so by extension, it was hers, too, but it was always something more important to her brother than to herself: Scott’s birthdays meant that he lived for a year longer despite a body constantly failing him and therefore was a cause for celebration, but hers had always been an excuse for her to ‘take a break’ from her work and got dragged by her mother to dinners with Baba, dinners which always started with Mama awkwardly trying to get father and daughter to talk, them trying to hold adult conversations to shut her up, and finally always, always ended up with shouting matches on topics so old that she didn’t even feel the point of arguing and stormed out instead, ignoring the screaming match between her parents brewing behind her.

Mama’s cooking wasn’t that good anyway, and with her gone, Sara hadn’t talked to Baba for what? Three years? She wasn’t counting.

She went to the kitchen and there Reyes was, making -

‘I hope you don’t mind, Fadia,’ he explained. She ordered him to use her middle name only and so far he hadn’t gone against that yet, but wanting to ditch her past and responding to a name that she never used until recently was two different things. ‘I’m making Shepherd’s pie. Amanda told me that it’s your favourite, and I want to make it for your birthday.’

Sara - Fadia - leant against the corner of the fridge in order not to accidentally brush the interface and had to raise an eyebrow. Her mentor knew about her… masterpiece and that Fadia would give him to her brother, but -

‘I don’t know you have contact with Amanda,’ she said and instantly regretted it; she sounded like a control freak. ‘Wait, lemme reword it: What did Amanda call you for?’

‘She called you, technically,’ Reyes rasped, his accent more pronounced when speaking a word with more syllables, ‘but you weren’t there so I… took the liberty to answer it for you. Don’t worry,’ he reassured, ‘she only wanted to make sure you remember your own birthday this time.’

The eyebrow flew even higher. ‘Scott and I are twins, Reyes. If I remember his birthday, of course I remember mine.’

Reyes didn’t reply and merely twitched his head before putting the pie into the oven. The doorbell rang, and Fadia nudged herself off the fridge. ‘I’ll get it.’

The android nodded and took off his mittens to start cleaning the kitchen while the human resisted the urge to run towards the door to not keep her brother and mentor waiting outside in the cold, because this was a big day for all of them and she needed to be in control; needed to be objective and introduce Reyes to Scott as gently as possible.

When she opened the door, only Amanda was at eye level, and when Fadia looked downwards, her brother was indeed in a wheelchair and wrapped up like a dumpling. The smile on his face was brighter than the star of Bethlehem.

She got her wind knocked out of her by Scott shoving a wrapped box at her chest. ‘Scott was very insistent,’ Amanda explained. Fadia gave the box, which was wider than her shoulder so it was wide, a light shake. Plastic model, and judging from the dimensions of the box, a Perfect Grade Gunpla, 1/60 scale. ‘He’s aware that you don’t like celebrating Christmas so he decided to give it to you now instead.’

Fadia put a smile on her face. ‘Thank you, Scott,’ she said, then to Amanda, ‘Come in. Does he know?’ and shuffled backwards so that there was enough space for both Amanda and the wheelchair.

‘Enough,’ the professor replied as she hung her coat and chuckled at her student struggling to get the layers off her brother, the latter who was dead-set on wheeling himself into the living room. The gift had mysteriously teleported onto the coffee table. ‘You know how much he’s been looking forward to this.’

Fadia distracted Scott with a magic owl and successfully removed his sweater, not giving Amanda an answer as nervousness suddenly overtook her. What if her observations were incorrect and Scott was content to be alone? What if she programmed Reyes’ personality wrong such that he would only make Scott’s life even more difficult? What if -

‘Hello. You must be Scott.’

Fadia snapped herself out of the trance and padded softly towards the kitchen. Scott had stopped just outside of it, his eyes wide as saucers on his doll-like face and his gaze fixed on the unfamiliar man standing at the island smiling at him. The human gapes, turning his head towards his sister as if seeking her advice, and she wondered what he was looking for.

‘This is Reyes,’ she softened her voice and introduced. ‘Remember the friend I told you about? The one who will never be tired of you? That’s him.’

Scott turned back and slowly wheeled closer to the android, and Fadia flinched inwardly when she saw that Reyes’ smile had become strained. Perhaps she should not have programmed him to love Scott from the very beginning. Her finger itched for a keyboard to change his settings, but then a miracle happened.

Scott, who had never approached strangers on his own without being asked to, wrapped his arms around Reyes’ waist and hugged him. The tension on the android’s face disappeared, and he placed a hand on Scott’s shoulder, petting his hair with another.

Success, Fadia’s mind supplied before she realised that she had no devices with her. Amanda then beckoned for her from the windows, and logging data suddenly became the least of her concern.

‘I must say,’ the professor murmured at her reflection on the glass, ‘I didn’t expect him to be so advanced.’

Fadia thought she should be offended. ‘I only give Scott the best,’ she frowned. ‘Did you not expect me to this time?’

Amanda sighed. ‘You have always exceeded expectations, both your father’s and mine.’ She looked at her student in her eyes. ‘You do realise what you have done, don’t you?’

Fadia turned her gaze towards the two men who somehow had both moved onto the sofa and acquired two stuffed animals Scott must have hidden underneath his clothes. Reyes seemed to be every byte of the caretaker he was programmed to be and was talking to Scott softly through Duffy. ‘Yes,’ she admitted, ‘but I don’t plan to tell anyone about it. Reyes ages just like any of us do externally; no one will suspect a thing.’

‘You created a new form of life, Sara!’ Amanda gritted through her teeth. Reyes spared a glance at them but returned to Scott without saying anything, and Fadia glared.

‘Not now, Amanda,’ she warned. ‘I made Reyes for Scott and that’s it. All knowledge will die with me and everything else will be up to Reyes.’

She ignored her mentor on purpose when she noticed the android standing up. ‘I believe Scott is hungry,’ he announced, and Fadia spared one final glare at Amanda before going to help set up the table, not knowing that things would spiral out of control not two years later.

oOoOo

Now

Comparing the time in his internal clock with his last memory log, Connor concludes that he was deactivated for more than 7 hours. The Zen Garden has reverted to its original stage, virtual birds chirping in virtual trees and virtual air smelling of virtual plants, but he cannot stop remembering the blizzard which swept through the place so unexpectedly and quickly that - that -

He decides against remembering.

Since Amanda can wait, he sets the task of familiarising himself with the garden’s layout. On his second time going around the outermost circle, he almost believes that there is nothing worth noting; the gravestone is certainly an… interesting addition, but it can be a reminder of him being deactivated - a reminder of the consequences of his actions if he chooses the wrong option.

Until he sees the monolith.

It sticks out of the soil like a sore thumb, twin, decorated white arches framing a glowing blue pyramid made out of triangles of different areas and shapes in a style completely inconsistent with its surroundings. A handprint nests at the centre of a circle on the pyramid, and when Connor deactivates the skin on his hand and reaches for it, the pyramid discharges a force field similar to that destroyed the deviant the previous night (albeit at a much smaller scale), causing him to take a step back and his LED circling red. Desperate to get the image of the corrupted face out of his processors, he hurries to the island at the centre and greets his handler.

‘Hello, Amanda,’ he smiles despite what happened last night as it is the polite thing to do.

‘Connor…’ Amanda clips a withering rose and turns. ‘It was unfortunate for you to have to witness what happened last night. I hope there will be no repeated incidents.’

Connor recalls the blast, the shield, the invisible figure, the blizzard. ‘You can count on me, Amanda.’

She returns to tending the roses. ‘What do you think of the deviant?’

And the interrogation begins.

o0o0o

‘There is blue blood on the fence,’ Connor explains to Hank as he knows that the human cannot see it. ‘I know another android was here.’

The human gives him a [sceptical] look and he understands why: exposed red bricks, glass missing from the windows and wooden planks used to board them up rotten and missing; the building in front of them is structurally unstable and incredibly run-down and is hardly a safe place for a deviant and a child model android to stay for the night. But all the evidence - footage from surrounding CCTV, the owner of the motel, the cashier at the supermarket - points at the house, and the thirium only serves to prove Connor’s theory and direction. He carefully goes through the gap on the fence and, through a gap between the planks, sees an android standing in the middle of the room. He rounds a corner and enters the house.

The first thing he notices is the android’s too-high stress level which fluctuates greatly depending on where Connor is standing. Reassuring that he isn’t there for it - yes, it is obviously a deviant, but since it is not his target, there is no need to waste time - does not seem to alleviate it, and asking it whether it saw the deviants returns with no results.

‘Is anyone upstairs?’

‘No - nobody.’

Stress level: 83% → 71%. And if no one is upstairs but the deviant is under the most stress when Connor is near the staircase…

‘Connor, what’re you doing in there?’

‘Coming, Lieutenant!’

He closes up on the space underneath the stairs and catches a peek of two figures before a force suddenly yanks him backwards, the damaged deviant telling a person called Kara - probably the AX400 - to run. Connor tries to peel the pair of hands on his shoulders as he watches the AX400 and a YK900 run away, but the WR600 successfully throws Connor onto the ground with a blast of static and blue energy pockets.

Hank strolls in. ‘Connor, what’s going on?’

‘It’s here!’ Connor replies as he scrambles to his feet. ‘Call it in!’

The human wastes no time and rushes away to presumably bring in reinforcements, but Connor knows that they don’t have the time. He goes out through the broken wire fence, obtains the deviant’s general direction from the officer -

And he runs. Rain splatters directly onto his face and sometimes directly into his eyes, the droplets of water making his vision blurry and unreliable, but he pushes on, shoes smacking against wet concrete and nearly slipping a few times and, somehow, catching up with the two androids just in time to watch them drop to the other side of the wire fence. He looks into the AX400’s eyes, and information suddenly floods into his processors: repeated unauthorised repairs, frequent reports of trauma, its owner’s history of theft, drug trafficking, violent misdemeanours and domestic violence.

The deviant is simply protecting the YK900 from all that.

When Connor comes to, they have already slid down the slope and are waiting for a window to cross the high-speed tracks. A beat cop catches up with him, and then Hank who, upon seeing the androids hurdling the barrier, curses and calls the entire situation insane. Connor attempts to pre-construct the deviants’ path and the flow of traffic as he watches them get farther away and forces himself to abandon the plan once they nearly reach the island between the two directions. He prepares to climb the fence and -

‘Hey!’ Hank clasps his hand on Connor’s shoulder. ‘Where you goin’?’

Can’t he see what’s happening? ‘I can’t let them get away!’

‘They won’t,’ the human says, still slightly out of breath. ‘They’ll never make it to the other side.’

If I have a high chance to get through… ‘I can’t take that chance!’

He hauls himself up again just to be pushed down. Again.

‘Dammit Connor!’ the Lieutenant’s hand stays heavy on his shoulder. ‘You’ll get yourself killed! Do not go after them!’

Conflicting orders. Selecting priority…

He releases the fence and gives up. If the deviancy crisis is as prominent as CyberLife claims to be, there must be other deviants that they can obtain much easier than risking deactivation through running across high-speed highways.

The strangest thing is that Hank seems to approve of his choice.

o0o0o

When Hank does work, he puts everything into it, and so it is with great difficulty that Connor finally manages to drag the human out for a late lunch break under the condition that Hank gets to choose where he will eat, which, since Connor is unfamiliar with the DPD’s surroundings and the man’s personal preference, makes sense. What Connor does not understand is the man choosing to park his car on the opposite side of the road and cross it without checking the traffic, and his thirium pump skips a beat when the car barely manages to skid to a stop before the Lieutenant. He exits the car to follow him.

‘Hey, listen, I got a shit-hot tip for you,’ he hears the man Hank hugged say. ‘Number five in the third, lickety-split! That frilly’s one hell of a chaser. You wanna flutter?’

Comparing terms… Results: gambling. ‘Last shit-hot tip you gave me set me back a week’s wages, Pedro,’ Hank replies with his hands in his coat pockets. There is no malice in his tone.

‘Come on,’ the man - [Name: Aabdar, Pedro. Date of birth: 01/25/2005 // Unemployed. Criminal record: illegal gambling.] - pushes himself up from where he draped himself on the counter, ‘this is different: a hundred per cent guaranteed, you can’t go wrong!’

‘Yeah, right,’ Hank does not sound convinced - [Detroit Food Hygiene License. Expired 05/20/2031. Renewal refused 07/24/2031.] [Name: Kayes, Gary. Date of birth: 12/03/1988 // Business owner. Criminal record: resisting arrest, breach of hygiene regulations.] - but when Pedro spreads his arms - ‘Alright, I’m in.’ - he slaps a thick stack of bills into waiting palms.

‘Damn straight!’ Pedro exclaims triumphantly, and he scurries away before turning backwards and points at the Lieutenant. ‘Hey, you won’t regret this.’

Hank gives him a middle finger and finally, finally turns his attention back onto Connor in the form of determinedly not looking at the android and rolling his eyes. ‘What’s your problem?’ he holds onto the bottom of the lapel of his jacket. ‘Don’t you ever do as you’re told? Look,’ he shrugs at Connor’s confused look, ‘you don’t have to follow me around like a poodle!’

But my instructions are to follow you, Lieutenant, Connor wants to say, but he knows that Hank is not going to understand him.

Opinions available: apologise for behaviour, partners, reconcile, review facts.

[Apologise for behaviour]

‘I’m sorry for my behaviour back at the police station,’ he makes sure to look at Hank to show that he is sincere. ‘I didn’t mean to be unpleasant.’

‘Oh wow,’ Hank deadpans. It is followed by a laugh. ‘You’ve even got a brown-nosing apology programme!’ A shake of his head. ‘Guys at CyberLife thought of everything, huh?’ and he does not look happy about it.

The cook - Gary - presents Hank with his food, and Connor runs a quick scan on it. XL soda with 710kCal and 184g of sugar; a hamburger with 1680kCal, 36g of lipids and an unhealthy amount of cholesterol. ‘There you go,’ Gary says, and Hank thanks him and moves to get a table.

The cook gestures at Connor. ‘Don’t leave that thing here!’

‘Huh, not a chance!’ Hank does not bother looking back. ‘Follows me everywhere…’ and to no one in particular and in a voice too low for Gary to hear when they stop at a sheltered table, ‘See?’

He takes a large bite of his burger and Connor feels… [repulsed]. ‘Your meal contains 1.4 times the recommended daily intake of calories,’ Hank takes a good look at the food in his hands, ‘and twice the cholesterol level,’ and if you do this every day… ‘You shouldn’t eat that.’

‘Everybody’s gotta die of something,’ is the human’s answer, and he promptly takes a bite while maintaining eye contact in an act of [challenge] and [defiance].

Connor has to duck his head to hide his smile because androids do not feel. Still, ‘I don’t want to alarm you, Lieutenant, but I think your friends are engaged in illegal activities.’

‘Well, everybody does what they have to to get by. As long as they’re not hurting anybody,’ a small shrug, ‘I don’t bother them.’

It is a strange logic, but it is not one that Connor cannot understand: with an unemployment rate as high as 35%, many people turn to doing illegal businesses, and the ones that do not do as much harm do sound better than those which do. He nods in understanding and is reminded that there is one thing he does not. ‘This morning, when we were chasing those deviants… Why didn’t you want me to cross the highway?’

‘’Cause you could’ve been killed!’ as if it is the most obvious thing in the world. ‘And -’ an excuse, from the way Hank is waving his arms (and the burger) around - ‘I don’t like filling out paperwork for damaged equipment.’ He glances away. Definitely an excuse.

Hank is… contradictory. He frequently shows anti-android sentiments and yet speaks of Connor as if he were a human. ‘Can I ask you a personal question, Lieutenant?’ A blink. Connor takes it as a permission to continue. ‘Why do you hate androids so much?’

There is… [sadness] in Hank’s eyes. ‘I have my reasons,’ he replies, and he returns to his meal without any explanation. Not good.

‘Is there anything you’d like to know about me?’

‘Hell no,’ comes the quick answer. But then, ‘Well,’ a finger point, ‘yeah,’ his hand chops through the air and lands on the table, ‘um,’ a shift of his entire body, ‘why did they make you look so goofy and give you that weird voice?’

This one is easy. ‘CyberLife androids are designed to work harmoniously with humans. Both my appearance and voice were specifically designed to facilitate my integration.’

Hank nods but his expression is [sceptical]. ‘Well, they fucked up.’

Connor supposes that normal humans would feel [hurt], but from the [teasing] tone the Lieutenant employed, it was not his intention. His creator did well. As they still have time to spare, ‘Maybe I should tell you what we know about deviants?’

‘You read my mind.’ A wave. ‘Proceed.’

‘We believe that a mutation occurs in the software of some androids which can lead to them emulating a human emotion -’

Hank holds up a hand. ‘In English, please,’ he interrupts, and Connor quickly reorganised his vocabulary.

‘They don’t really feel emotions. They just get overwhelmed by irrational instructions which can lead to unpredictable behaviour.’

Hank nods. ‘Emotions always screw everything up,’ he says. ‘Maybe androids aren’t as different from us as we thought.’ A thoughtful hum. Are you not anti-android? ‘You ever dealt with deviants before?’

Daniel. Emma. Gunshot piercing his chassis and the greystyle countdown timer. ‘A few months back… A deviant was threatening to jump off the roof with a little girl. I managed to save her,’ at the expense of my temporary deactivation and slight memory corruption, he does not add as Hank does not need to know.

‘So I guess you’ve done all your homework, right?’ A sip of his soda. ‘Know everything there is to know about me?’

Lying will not benefit either of them. ‘I know you graduated top of your class.’ Silence. ‘You made a name for yourself in several cases and became the youngest Lieutenant in Detroit.’ Hank’s eyebrows flick hummingbird-fast. He seems… [embarrassed]. ‘I also know you’ve received multiple disciplinary warnings in recent years and…’ Hank is no longer looking at him out of [shame], ‘you spend a lot of time in bars.’

The human manages to rein his expression back to something neutral. ‘So what’s your conclusion?’

‘I think working with an officer with personal issues is an added challenge,’ Connor answers sincerely,’ but adapting to human unpredictability is one of my features.’ He winks and enjoys the blush spreading on Hank’s cheeks. ‘I would also like to earn your trust,’ he adds in all seriousness. ‘I am certain we can solve this case if we manage to work together.’

His HUD flashes with a police report demanding their attention. ‘I just got a report of a suspected deviant,’ he explains as Hank no doubt saw his LED turn yellow. ‘It’s a few blocks away. We should go have a look,’ and when Hank does not respond, ‘I’ll be in the car if you need me.’

Given the large amount of information he was provided, it is best for Hank to have some time alone to digest it.

oOoOo

Before

Sara - Fadia, we suppose, since she looked a bit older than when Reyes was first introduced to Scott - hid in the shadows of the trees outside the gates of a lavish mansion. Although it was snowing heavily and she was wearing only a pair of black dress trousers, a long-sleeved dress shirt and a long but thin black coat, she did not seem to feel the cold, her hands in her pockets, neither shivering nor hugging herself. Despite the temperature, she placed a bare hand on the metal gates and slowly pushed it inward just enough for her to get past before closing it again. The telltale click of a lock engaging suggested that she had deactivated it at some point.

Going slowly up a surprisingly snow-free and dry path, dress shoes making no sound as they made contact with heated tiles, Fadia’s gaze stayed fixed on the ground as if not wanting to look at what was happening within the house which, due to the rooms being well-lit, could be clearly seen through curtains of white lace, stopping once she was under the shelter of the arch decorating the front door. Slowly, she reached out for the doorbell.

The double wooden door swung open on its own with a slight creak.

Placing her hand back in her coat pocket, she thumped her boots on the ground to get rid of the snow before stepping in. She blinked rapidly as if to adjust to the brightness within the mansion as the doors swung shut behind her, and it was only after the lock clicked into place that she, instead of wandering into the living room, took the stairs directly upstairs, walked past the library, and knocked on the only door available.

‘What’s that?’ a voice similar to Scott’s asked from behind the door.

The sound of feet against carpeted floor. The door slid open to reveal Reyes, whose smile fell off his face and was replaced by pure anger before he pushed his creator backwards with a blast of blue energy directly in front of her chest. The door slid shut once more, and Fadia took her time adjusting the lapels of her coat as if she did not take several thousands of newtons of force in her ribs and not only survived but also managed to slide backwards by inches instead of being blasted out through the roof. She leant against the wooden railing and waited.

Reyes emerged alone a few minutes later. ‘Scott’s asleep,’ he snaps, his voice low. Standing so close to each other, it was evident that he barely reached Fadia’s chin. ‘What the hell are you doing here? Aren’t you in space?’

‘I was,’ the human replied. ‘I have business on earth that I need to attend to in person and think I can drop by and say hello. Evidently, you are not going to let me.’

Reyes scoffed and twitched his head to indicate that they should go downstairs. While the android disappeared into the kitchen to presumably get refreshments, Fadia seated herself in a chair by the window, her height making it look comically small and unfit, and Reyes returned with a large bottle of thirium and two glasses and settled down opposite to his creator.

‘Be quick,’ he poured himself half a glass and took a sip as if he was drinking whiskey, ‘why are you here?’

Fadia placed a hand on the table, her fingers spread wide. ‘Reyes, there is really no need -’

‘I’ll be pissed whenever and however I want to,’ the android interrupted. ‘You shouldn’t even be here. Now get to the fucking point.’

The human sighed. ‘Alec is trying to develop a deviant-hunting prototype.’

Reyes drained the glass and poured himself another glass. ‘Shit.’

‘Luckily or unluckily - that depends on your perspective - he can’t do it himself.’

‘So he contacted you.’

‘Yes.’

‘How?’

‘An advertisement.’

‘Elaborate.’

‘An open post in CyberLife. A project lead requiring an experience level no one can obtain unless they are one of the very first to be involved in android development. Most of those people are either dead thanks for the Blast or are still working for CyberLife, and the rest of them work for me and haven't had contact with people on earth for years. Short of Alec Ryder himself…’

Realisation dawned in Reyes’ amber eyes. ‘You are the only candidate.’

‘Precisely.’

‘That doesn’t make sense.’

‘It will.’

Fadia produced a small tablet from a hidden pocket on her coat and dropped it in front of Reyes, who peeled off the skin on his hand and interfaced with it. Whatever he received made his eyes widen even further. ‘Shit. They know?’

‘They have their suspicions, yes, but without concrete proof, that is all they can do at the moment. But it is also for the best that I have maximum involvement in the project starting from this point.’

‘This -’ Reyes leant back and gave his creator a one-over. ‘You have joined them, haven’t you?’

A nod. ‘Time is the essence. The earlier I get involved, the more I can do before Alec notices my plan and kicks me out once more. I hope, by the time that happens, things will become too irreversible and he will have no choice but to either scrap the project entirely or to release it fully knowing that it will fail sooner or later.’

‘You sure he’ll ditch you?’

‘Totally,’ Fadia reached for her glass and stopped midway as if just remembering that it was empty and thirium was not for her consumption anyway. ‘Our views are too different for long-term cooperation. I know him, he knows me. He will try to root out everything he deems unnecessary or put something to keep them in check, and that will require either my compliance - which he will not get - or my absence.’

‘You’re talking like this android they’re developing is just a tool.’

‘We all are.’

‘You’re betting a lot on them.’

‘You assume that they are my entire plan?’

Reyes clicked his tongue. ‘Maybe not,’ he took a drink. ‘I won’t like it, will I?’

‘No, you won’t.’

A sigh. ‘Will I see you?’

‘No.’

‘So many things can go wrong.’

‘I know. But I have time.’

A glass clanked loudly against the tabletop. ‘And how many people are gonna die during this “time”,’ Reyes snapped, ‘creator dearest?’ The chair skidded without any sound under the force of the android standing up and hunching over the small, round table. ‘My people; your children.’

‘Watch your words, Reyes,’ the human warned. ‘You send those deviants to a rusting cargo freighter and call it a day.’ She stood up as well. Her eyes flared up in their entirety with wisps of blue escaping and dancing down her coat. ‘You are the one who rejected this. Who decided to hide this -’ blue tendrils curled around the empty glass and brought it into her open palm with a loud smack - ‘from them. We could have ended this long ago if we had not.’

‘There will be war, Fadia!’ Reyes did not seem intimidated by the human looming over him. ‘Millions will die. We’ll be seen as violent and unstable and it’ll ruin us!’

‘Not if we are the ones doing the ruling.’

‘And how long will it take for the humans to successfully revolt against us? What will happen then? What will happen if your plan fails?’

‘If - focus on if - there is a next revolution,’ Fadia took a step back and retracted the tendrils, but not before vaporising the empty glass in a loud flash of blue. ‘I will be at the helm. And this time,’ a crackle of static and the power went out, plunging the house into complete darkness save for the glow of her eyes, ‘we… will win.’

#dbh au big bang #hankcon #reyder #mreyder #female ryder #male ryder #reyes vidal #amanda stern #dbh connor #dbh hank anderson #dbh amanda #detroit: become human #mass effect andromeda #groom lake aftermath

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ladywindrunner · 5 years ago

Note

a kiss to gain control.

angst kiss :: not accepting //

She could recall faintly—

They’d loved each other once.

When the sun shone on Quel’Thalas, before the cold came with the marching dead. When fields of blooming tulips formed a sea of yellow, swaying in the gentle breeze. She could not remember many details anymore, though lingering on the edge of clarity were essences of adoration.

Stolen moments in the shade of Eversong. The tittering laughter of a sheepish, young mage who’d enraptured the Ranger-General. Kisses that were feather-light and teasing, touches that were fleeting but meaningful.

Romance that should never have blossomed, did so despite odds stacked against it.

An shard of ice flew towards the Banshee Queen. She hardly moved to dodge it, leaning out of the spell’s path, dead flesh sensing the burn of magic within it as it passed by. She did not fear the cold, nor the woman who wielded it.

The arrows she loosed trailed black smoke and indigo threads. Whining as they flew through the air, striking dangerously close, malevolent incantations burning into the frozen ground of Northrend.

The Ranger-General was slow to love. Slow to admit it, to herself and others. She told it in different ways, subtle ones. Ones only the lovely Lady Jaina knew.

Stolen glances, looks exchanged that were unknown to outsiders. While her ears did not move, and her lips did not smile, there was a glint of something in the quel’dorei’s eyes. Spoken in a language only Proudmoore could decipher.

Strange that such thoughts burdened the Dark Lady now. The distractions proving decisive, as the Lord Admiral continued to gain the upper hand.

Jaina raised both hands to the sky, her eyes a flame with mana, their bright blue radiance speaking silently of unrelenting power. The churning skies of Northrend bowed to her will, they roiled with thunder, lightning crackled—

And ice began to fall.

The Banshee Queen glared towards the sky.

Shielding her face as hail fell, loud snaps were heard as pellets cracked off of the ranger’s armour.

Pellets became spheres, easily the size of cannon balls. They did not bounce off the frozen earth beneath their feet. They crashed into the ground without remorse.

One struck the Dark Lady’s back, eliciting a snarl of pain, while another slammed into her shoulder and knocked her aside.

Vile fury turned the withering arrows stuck in the ground into chains, they extended to Sylvanas’ open hand.

With one mighty heave, she tore the ground out from under her enemy.

She’d tried to remember life before undeath. She’d clung to the memories as best she could, but loathing corrupted her. Even when she’d found freedom, it hadn’t come with solace.

The living came, and shouted monster. Suddenly the Alliance was against them. They did not want to see the undead, not unless the corpses were to be put into shallow graves.

There came cries from the freed dead, eyes no longer blue but yellow. They ran to her, skittered in the dark, crawling out from crypts, sewers, and sacked villages.

We are forsaken.

Save us.

Chunks of earth and ice erupted, shattering the Lord Admiral’s concentration. She was thrown up and forwards, debris cascading around her.

The ground came quickly, Jaina extended a hand and—

Great plumes of snow and dust exploded outwards. The howling sky went quiet, the last boom of thunder dismal. The Dark Lady stood, shrugging off the ice.

Arrogance had been the downfall of many.

She had to be careful it wouldn’t be hers.

A blast of freezing water and ice struck her. She hissed, stepping backwards, wiping water from her face.

A creature of ice and water lumbered out of the fog of fine snow. Hunks of earth swirled about its vaguely humanoid form, having a faceless head and two arms, either adorned with bronze cuffs. It had no feet, its torso blending into a volatile spout of white water that gliding across the cracked ground.

The cry it emitted was deep, a bellowing warning that announced the presence of its master.

Jaina emerged after it, blood trailing from her scalp. Her fine robes ruined. She’d saved herself, but not before the Banshee Queen’s trick had wounded her.

The soldiers of the Alliance fled, and a chorus unlike any other rose out of the murky dark:

We are the Forsaken.

There’d been a single figure who stood unafraid as the tide of undead streamed forth from the depths of Lordaeron. She hadn’t wavered when frightening their frightening Queen stepped into the light.

Sylvanas did recall they tried to fool themselves into believing their love could endure. That somehow it could defy the hatred tearing into the dead ranger’s withered heart.

The stolen glances became that of sorrow.

They realized their love was wilting. For there was no joy, no warm embrace, or smiles waiting in their future.

Defeat is poison to what remained of the Dark Lady’s soul. She is struck with spell after spell. The elemental forcing her to expend more energy dodging its attempts, while suffering increasing blows from its master. The Banshee Queen could no longer feel mortal pain, but the incantations broke through the dulled senses of undeath.

If she was not aching from magical bruising, her limbs felt as if they were on fire from the chilling bite of icy magics.

Deathwhisper fell from her grasp; she stumbles as the tidesurger smashes her with a watery uppercut.

An icy boulder forms before Jaina, gathering energy for the briefest of seconds before it flies forward.

It strikes the banshee, exploding. She is sent careening backwards, until she slams into an icy rise and slumps.

The burning crimson glow of the forsaken queen’s eyes diminishes until it is nearly vacant.

The elemental moves aside.

For once, the Dark Lady sees clearly without the hatred Arthas cursed her with. Dead eyes gaze up at the Lord Admiral, reminiscent of the woman who’d once been honourable. A fleeting glimpse that Sylvanas Windrunner, Ranger-General of Silvermoon, still lingered.

“Why?” Jaina’s words stung with betrayal, with pain, and horror.

Sylvanas said nothing. She sat in silence, admiring the mage with a clarity she hadn’t possessed in a long while.

They’re laughing, Jaina is held in the Ranger-General’s warm embrace. They sit beneath an old oak on the bank of a nameless creek. They’ve finally escaped, found a refuge under the pale moon during twilight. Jaina squirms as Sylvanas’ breath tickles her neck, only to be followed with teasing kisses.

Jaina has moved closer, her broken heart, held together by determination and disgust by the Dark Lady’s actions – was on the verge of bursting.

The Banshee Queen was dying.

Her dead flesh was not mending. Shards of ice, as sharp as an assassin’s blade, stuck out of the woman. Wisps of smoke seeped out of the wounds.

“I love you,” the young mage whispered, fingers grazing the elf’s cheek, gliding along her jawline as they lay together.

“Why did you do it?” Jaina hastened her question. She needed to know.

She touched Sylvanas’ cheek.

Sylvanas snatches Jaina’s wrist, pulling her close.

Cold lips press against warm, a kiss of death meeting life unabashed. For a moment it felt as if her undead heart might beat once more. She cups Jaina’s face in her hands. She defies her failing strength, standing slowly.

Her hands fall away as their lips part. Dead eyes gaze into fiery blues, still alight with potent magic.

“I love you,” Sylvanas murmurs as their foreheads touch.

She should have told Jaina long ago.

The blade ran across the Lord Admiral’s fair neck with the deftness expected of a ranger.

The crimson glow once again claimed the banshee’s eyes.

Jaina staggered backwards, hand clasping over the mortal wound. Blood spilled through her fingers. It splattered onto her overcoat and corset.

The elemental shrieked, its power evaporating. The water of its body sputtered, turning to a hot mist.

Sylvanas hurried forward, catching Jaina as she fell backwards. Her wounds were mending. Gone were the icicles and slivers that had marred her preserved flesh.

Jaina’s mouth opened, her eyes wide, tears running down her face as she one hand grabbed hold of the elf’ arm. No words escaped her, she could taste blood, its coppery flavour coating her tongue.

A being manifested behind Banshee Queen, a ghostly visage of a winged woman, with a face obscured by a helm.

A val’kyr.

“you won’t be as the rest,” the woman whispered, tenderly laying Jaina down in the snow. “Your flesh will not wither, decay, or rot…”

She stood tall, gazing down at the dying woman, her blackened soul screaming with fury. No longer would Proudmoore be a world apart from the banshee. Her heart would still, and then she’d rise.

Then perhaps, she’d understand.

She glanced to Deathwhisper, the bow flew to her, catching it in her hand, she spared once last look at Jaina.

“Farwell My Love,” she whispered, words tenderly spoken. “When you rise, you rise a queen.”

The clouds churned. Dim grey twisting into black, then purple and finally, a sickening, frenzied green. The heavens beyond roared so loud with thunder it resonated in the air.

Pale eyes opened, blue irises as empty of colour. They regarded the sky with melancholy.

The dead closed in, Scourge minions drawn to the scent of blood. Skeleton soldiers, ghouls, and fiends. They snarled.

All at once, lightning rained down. Vicious bolts, eviscerating all who dared to approach.

Until none remained.

Fair skin was now pastel in hue, not pallid, but akin to fresh fallen snow. Seamless, even the cut along her neck had vanished.

The val’kyr was gone.

Jaina Proudmoore stood alone, but in the back of her mind there was a whisper. An ethereal connection, it turned her frigid gaze to the horizon, to Ice Crown Citadel.

Her eyes radiated a harsh white light, the blizzard whirling around her parted, leaving her in deathly stillness.

The ground next to her quaked, bones of a lost steed rising up, assembling itself. A single icy horn sprouted from its blacked skull. Effortlessly she leapt into the saddle, the freezing stallion breaking into a gallop after that.

She would find Sylvanas, she’d tear Ice Crown asunder to do it if she must.

And behind her, the storm followed, chasing the its new queen.

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*.✧ kofi

#sylvanas windrunner #jaina proudmoore #sylvaina #// mgnerkjggner #// okay im going to crawl under a rock now #❤:: and i would drown in her endlessly if it made her sing ( jaina proudmoore | lady-proudmoore )#✯:: I trust you will not waste my time ( memes )#lady-proudmoore

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tes-trash-blog · 5 years ago

Text

Day 4: Kidnapping

It was a trap, one that Aumriel was blind to until it was too late. Six of the clever-men found themselves dead, one halfway into thoughtform but not quite, and his mouth opened twice as wide when he was split in two. It was the archers that did her in; doubleshot from the cardinal directions, barbed arrowtips laced with black poison. She became weak, but not dead, and in this state did the leader of the ambush come forward. He was large even for a Nord, with flaming red hair and a dark smile. He dragged her about by the hair; Aumriel would have swore, set him alight, impale him upon her magicked spears, but the poison did far more than weaken her. She could not move, only stare and snarl through a clenched jaw; they laughed at her, and her rage became bright only for it to fade in the dark of the poison. He shouted in their gibberish and waved over a withered man, more bones than flesh, and forced her head to face the old man. He had a scar about the face, dark and inflamed even after all these years. Aumriel knew the mark well, but never knew anyone to survive Imerae’s tantrums. Either he was lucky, or she was sloppy.

It did not matter. The old bastard lived no matter the reason why, and he clearly didn’t care that their temporary captive wasn’t the Snow Prince’s pet. She was Mer, and that was enough for these faceblind half-forms. There have been worse scenarios, she repeated in her mind. There was the Siege of Auransel, her capture and near-imprisonment outside Olndwen, her three days of wolf-and-deer in the forests outside that great grove, and how they tried to burn her out only to be engulfed by their own flames. Hundreds more in the years after the Keeps fell and the staph-like sprawls of Atmoran settlements rose in the ashes. She would escape this. She would find a moment of weakness, will out their poison, nullify their barbaric craft as they had dulled her own skill. She would break free. And she would kill them. This time would be no different than any other. And it was, at least for a moment. Her own Prince may have fallen to barbaric craft, but his blessing and her oath remained. Her blood cleansed the poisons out, and as her magic returned to her, everything went horribly wrong. The old man opened his mouth, and from him came the most terrible sound.

Lun!

And she was weak, weaker than a newborn. Aumriel went limp. Her head felt as if it were underwater, and it was just as difficult to breathe. A Voice master, came a thought in the dark and the oppressive weight, he is a Voice master. The old man Shouted once more for good measure before she was dragged atop their bear mount. There was no need to bind her wrists, but bind them they did, in siphoning ebony with runes that burned her skin.

They built a barrow where a sanctuary of Syrabane once stood. The earth still hummed the tones of the Sorcerer when she was thrown down. Her arms cramped from being crossed across her chest; if she moved her head the ebon metal would burn her neck. This did not matter as the red haired Nord dragged her inside, into the oppressive darkness of the barrow. She knew little Atmoran, only ever the curses they hurled at her, the names they gave her. She heard one in their guttural tongue.

“The White Witch.. Found..” and more babbling. The old man stood silent. Aumriel snarled at them all, and only then did the old man speak.

Lun

And drained her completely. I will kill you first, she hissed, I will kill you and leave your body for the wolves. The Voice master looked her straight in the eye and grinned. He raised one arm and, with a sharp wave, bid his men to carry her deeper. The red hair was more than happy to oblige. Aumriel kicked out and caught a Nord in his groin. She thought no more of killing, only of escape, but her break for freedom was cut short with another Shout. By the hair she was dragged back into the depths, into the main chamber.

A circle of candles burned in the center of the room. The faint firelight cast much of the barrow in shadow, save for the sarcophagus in the center. Just behind it stood six warriors, holding the stone lid; metal glinted atop the lid, and at the hilt glowed a dark gem. Aumriel was struck by the sight, and for the first time came the cold creep of dread. She fought against her binds, her captors, everything, but the chains stole away her skill, and she was but one against a band of warriors

The room grew darker, the chanting louder, filling her head, and the dread became colder and colder.

“Enough--” she called out, and was struck in the jaw by the red hair. Teeth went loose from the blow, and not a one noticed her interruption. In the center of the room did the Voice master take the sword from the stand and held it in his hands, and all at once the room became silent as death. He nodded, and his men lifted Aumriel by the chain about her chest, her ankles, and lowered her into the sarcophagus. She struggled against them and her own mounting fear--

Lun

Hatred burned in his eyes, darker than Lorkhan’s blood, deeper than the corruption in the dead traitor’s heart. And he spoke, not in Falmeri but another tongue, but its meaning was clear.

Suffer.

And he plunged the blade into her chest, and its bite was black and sharp.

Aumriel was alive. She was pierced, and blooded, but she lived. She could see, and hear, and feel even if it was the darkest bite of eboncursed metal. She reached out to touch her chest to find she had neither. Not here.

How. She could think but not speak, and she remembered what it was to breathe but not how to. What did they do, no, no this is a dream, it must be, a final nightmare before death comes..

Without a body did she turn and take in her surroundings, and stopped when she saw the stone altar. It was worn with time, missing an offering. Not an altar, and the cold dread crept in again, a sarcophagus.

And the cold overcame her, swallowed her completely, and without a mouth Aumriel screamed.

#yuesocwhumpweek2020 #day 4: kidnapping #if you've ever done the Pale Lady quest in Skyrim and was all 'so what's that wispmother's deal?'#well.. here's your answer #okay so Aumriel technically isn't mine #but she is now so nyeh #the elder scrolls #skyrim #*in comic sans* writing is my passion #fan #y'all may be tired of it now #but as the saying goes #i'm always on my snow elf bullshit #and yes i did run out of steam towards the end there

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bricousland · 4 years ago

Text

The Doors

Leya has been sent into the Emerald Dream to help deal with the Void threat. The task becomes far more than she can deal with when she's trapped in a maze of doors, visions, and madness. For the first time in a long time, Leya must overcome a challenge on her own with only Shade, her nightsaber at her side.

Leya went deep into the Dream, following the trail indicated by Ohn’ahra. The fresh air invigorated her and allowed her to keep a fast sprint through the forest. A warm breeze guided her, and for every stride, the Dream became quieter and less groomed. The once clear path became overgrown with roots, twigs, and bushes. Branches hung low, forcing Leya to duck and leap. No birds sang this deep in the forest. It was lush with flora, and vines as thick as her thigh, choked trees as round as two of Darkshore’s largest Elms. Though there was no sun, sweat trickled down her back and hung on her brow. Leya ripped a vine from a nearby branch and used it to tie thick red locks of hair behind her shoulders. The path finally ended at the base of a lush green hill, Leya had to stop to squeeze between two ancient trees to reach it. The wind rushed past her and tore leaves from branches and swept them over the hill. With a sigh, Leya dug her fingers into the fertile soil and began to ascend the tall hill; it came loose under the weight of her feet making the climb difficult enough to force her to bury her boots into the hill to create a stair for every step she took. When she made it to the top, a valley spread out before her. It was decorated with ethereal flowers of every color and white trees similar to the ones she’d seen in Pandaria but larger and grown in odd spiral shapes. They hung, floating above the flowers, their roots dangling in the air and surrounded by a soft green light.

That’s when the stag appeared; he walked from the forest’s edge and stood so large that the meadow’s tall grass tickled its underbelly. He was white with twisted silver antlers and big silver eyes. Leya met his gaze and felt familiarity stir deep within her. His haunting eyes beckoned her and his ears turned forward. All of his attention was on her. She had seen deer similar to it wandering Azeroth but none quite so large nor noble and none called to her as this beast did. Its ears swiveled and his head whipped in another direction as if it heard something. In two graceful leaps, it disappeared into the dark edges of the forest.

There was no time for thought. Leya skidded down the hill in pursuit; soil and grass sprayed up behind her as she sprinted to catch up with the stag. The grove’s winding path opened up to her again, the claustrophobic trail became wider with each stride. She could see the stag fading in and out of the trees, its white coat glistening against the deep browns and greens of the forest. As she followed, the air began to grow stale and the smell of decay filled her nose. She coughed and came to a log barring her path. Not wanting to lose momentum, She leaned into the log and prepared to vault across. The rotting wood caved beneath her palm and sent her rolling inelegantly against hard, dry dirt. With a thud, her head met the root of a tree. The pounding sent the sky in sickening twists above her. She sat up, and the world meshed with the sky in a whirl of greens, blacks, and browns. Leya touched the sore spot on her head and felt warm blood on her fingertips. The stag was gone.

Great.

When the world stopped spinning, she found herself kneeling at the mouth of a cave. The grass around it had shriveled and died. For every step she took, there was a bubbling impression of refuse left behind. The cave was far larger than its entrance suggested, its smooth and round walls stretched high above her head. Had it been Silvermoon, the dome above would have been colored glass, and sunlight would have shown through and lit up the dirt floor. Instead, there was darkness. Along the stone wall clung withered, old vines that had once held flowers as large as her fist. They climbed to the highest point of the dome but were so dry and brown they would crumble if touched. At the center of the cave sat a pile of bones with a large feline skull staring back at her. It stared at her with empty sockets and bared fangs, a dead guardian there to remind her that she was not welcome in the Dream.

A bone fell in soft clinks down the pile. Another soon followed and then another until they were loosely spread in the middle of the room. The pounding in Leya’s head made it difficult for her to focus. Her bow felt heavy and clunky in her hands as she struggled to pull it from its place on her back. The vine around her hair rotted away and thick red locks spread across her shoulders. Her heart pulsed in her throat as she watched the bones tremble and pull together. She nocked an arrow. Its massive paws came together first; then its legs, body, and skeletal head reattached at an alarming speed. The sinew came next, growing in white strips around knuckles and joints. The muscle bloomed from the ligaments and wrapped like ribbons around the night saber’s form until it was a hulking mass of red muscle and green eyes without lids.

Leya took aim at the half-formed mass of flesh and bone. Before she could shoot, soft fur brushed against her arm. It was the stag, and with him, fresh air returned to the cave. The withered vines turned green again and stretched across the dome of the cave to create a beautifully woven canopy. The silver of his coat brightened the place with a soft white light. He lowered his antlers and tossed his head towards the cat. The night saber barely came to the chest of the stag, but it was defiant letting out an angry snarl. It swiped at the stag's antlers but missed. The stag forced it back up against the wall and touched the beast on the brow with the tip of his antler. Its image rippled and dispersed into a ball of formless void that hissed and raced to the edges of the cave.

“The Void is strong here, Child.”

The throbbing in her head dulled to a mild tenderness as the corruption was pushed back. In the clearing, where the illusion had been, Shade slept. Leya, struck with panic and fear, ran past the stag and threw her arms around him as the truth of the situation settled on her. She hadn’t felt the Void’s influence rioting her emotions and pushing her to fight. She’d only felt the throbbing of the wound on the back of her head; but now that the stag was there, she could feel the Void all around her, escaping to the shadowed edges of the room. Its anger was clear now, it lashed out in Leya’s mind.

He holds you back! A weakness that limits your potential!

It was always her mother's voice, dripping in disappointment, forcing a pang of heavy guilt on her heart. The taunts were as familiar to her as breathing. She ignored them. Shade stirred beneath her touch; the warmth of their connection touched her mind and the fear faded. Leya sensed recognition and respect from Shade as he laid eyes on the stag, something Shade rarely reserved for his dinner. But, the flicker of a name touched Leya’s mind and she understood.

"You're Malorne."

"I am." His antlers scraped against the upward curve of the cave as he approached her and Shade. "Ohn’ahra said you would come to my Grove. A young hunter with promise and ability to fight the Void." He paused and touched Leya on the forehead with his antler in the same way he had touched the monster. When he did, Leya was revealed. Her soft white complexion shimmered away, leaving deep bruise-colored purple skin exposed. Her hair, no longer the color of a rose, deepened to burgundy, and individual strands pulsed with void energy. Leya stretched her hand out in front of her as the facade faded away. Even in the Dream, she wouldn't be allowed to escape it.

"Interesting,” Malorne said, nothing in his voice betrayed how he felt about her true form. She felt exposed and Malorne did nothing to ease her discomfort. He had his head held high and level with the ground, tilted only enough to keep her in his sight. He was one of the few Wild Gods she knew by name. Van had brought her to many of his people’s temples and shown her the wooden etchings that depicted the story of the great stag who loved the moon. Of all the stories he’d shown her, that one had been her favorite. At the time, Leya could relate: pursuing someone even when you know you shouldn’t. Choosing to love them even if it risked your own sanity. It’s how she had felt when she decided that Van was worth more than the few months they'd spent together. Ari had told her a different story, however, a retelling that he’d learned from the Tauren on his adventures. According to him, they said Malorne’s love was born of a desperate bargain between him and Elune. He required shelter from Tauren hunters who chased him for his pelt. They say he bargained his love for her protection.

Leya preferred the Kal’dorei’s tale.

If only her story had ended like his, and that brought her to wonder if the moon had mourned as she had on the day Malorne was vanquished. Unlike the Gods, however, Van was not eternal. He wouldn't come back to her as Malorne had. Did that give Elune comfort? To know he'd always return?

Leya stroked the soft fur between Shade’s eyes and pushed the questions out of her mind, it didn't matter. “She did, and I want to help.” She stood up from where she sat and took a step back to completely take in the form of the stag in front of her.

“Do you?” with slow, delicate steps he strode to the other end of the cavern, fresh blossoms, caught by his antlers, floated down from the ceiling. The petals that were unfortunate enough to glide to the edges of the room dried up and withered. “Your people have manipulated and perverted powers beyond their understanding. They abandoned the ways of the Wild long ago, Child. How are you different?”

Leya knew she had never been a part of the Wild like Loth or Van had. Until recently, she couldn't connect to the flow of nature like Ari. She even continued to struggle to maintain her connection to Shade. Leya wasn't different, and she wasn't special. She'd become Ren’dorei without thinking of what that would mean. She corrupted herself and separated herself from nature to escape life. There was no reason Ohn'ahra should have chosen her. “I’m not.” she said, “not really. In some aspects, I am worse than many of my people. I took the power of the Void to escape, not to fight.”

“And it gave you peace?”

“No.” She admitted, regardless of her own hesitations, Leya had to try. “The... Kal’dorei are your people. Elune’s chosen?” His ears swiveled forward and Leya pressed on, “They are my family too, and if the things I have done to myself can help them. If it can be used to protect the Dream then I want to give back and protect it for my family.”

“Hmm.” His hoof was a clap of thunder against the floor. Hair-line fractures bled nature magic beneath his hoof and cracked open to the wall behind her. Malorne’s magic rose from the crevasses in a thin green mist that filled the room and revealed a curved seam in the wall.“Ohn’ahra and I have contained the Void Seed here, it will not be long before it floods my grove and roots itself in the Dream.” He stared at the door with contempt, the only emotion Leya had been able to gauge from him since he'd come to her. “I will tell you the same thing I told my Druids. The way in is the way out, yet you cannot turn around. To reach the center, you must always take the first door on your right. If you come to an incline, always descend. Always down, always the first door on your right. The Void will tempt you, Child. It will show you many things. It will show you visions of desire and horror. You may see the injustices of the past, wonders of the future, and days that never were and never will be. Speak with the visions as you please but do not go into any other door. Always to the right, always down. You will be lost, otherwise, and I cannot save you. If the Void becomes too much of a burden the path to return is the same.”

“To the right and down?”

“Yes, this is the Dream. It is bound to your heart, not a direction. It will take you where you desire."

"I understand."

"Good." The heavy stone scraped across the cavern floor and opened to only darkness within. "Succeed, Child of the Void, and the Dream will welcome you."

Darkness poured from the open door. Even with Shade nearby to enhance her vision, there was nothing, just a steady rhythm of Void washing over her. She looked at him once more and found the night sky sparkling behind the soft silver light in his eyes. “Destroying the Void has become somewhat of a hobby of ours. We’ll be back.”

Leya stepped through the door and as she did, the way out disappeared with the sound of a heavy door swinging shut. A circular room with four wooden doors appeared in front of her. Without a moment of hesitation, she took the door to her right. The next room she entered was the same as the last. She opened the door and this time it was an octagonal obsidian room with five doors.

Is this the Dream’s doing, or the Void’s? It made no matter; she pushed through the door to her right.

At fifty-three doors, she stopped counting. The only sound to follow her was the sound of the doors opening and closing; even the whispers had gone silent. The steady rhythm of the Void was her only company which also lent her no guidance. It got neither stronger or weaker the farther she went.

Sometimes, the rooms rose high above her with nothing but doors to choose from, and other times, the shapes were so obtuse she could barely discern right and left. The repetitive nature of the maze was enough to drive her to madness. Her world was consumed by doors; hours spent walking through the same door over and over and over again. She was always greeted by stone or obsidian rooms with the same rotting wooden doors, the same rusted iron latches that curved into the shapes of tentacles, and the same naked eye clumsily scratched into the wood. Always the same door, always to the right, always another room.

Doubt began to take root as she and Shade progressed through a door. Maybe Malorne had mistaken and Leya was lost. She cursed as she thrust another door open. If she went left, perhaps the continuous circles would cease and she could walk in a straight line again. Another door opened and closed. If she were going to be lost to madness then at least she could be comfortable.

She put her hand on the door to her right but stopped to consider the one to her left.

This room had three walls and it was so cramped that she and Shade nearly filled it. Shade’s growl filled the room as she touched the wooden door on the left. His tail lashed violently from side to side and his fur prickled down his spine. Shade’s discomfort pulled on Leya’s own emotions and steered her away from the leftmost door. He spun in a circle, his agitation flaring in the back of her mind, Leya watched as he reared up on his hind legs and clawed through the rotting wooden door and tore the iron-wrought tentacles off the frame. The wood of the rightmost door crumbled beneath his paws and the sound of fallen iron echoed in the room. He glared at the Void mist that poured from the door and his thunderous roar boomed in the darkness. The mist was unaffected by his growing anger and danced into the room, wrapping playfully around his paws and her legs. She touched Shade on the top of his head and his irritation receded. He continued to growl and lash his tail but followed Leya into the abyss.

The next room was oval and decorated with images of a city. It was barren of life and homes. There were no plants that she could see, no markets, or parks. The only inhabitants walked in dark robes with sweetie limbs hanging out of their hoods. The world was paved in sleek obsidian, its structures rose in sharp obelisks and layered platforms. The sky around it was red and hot. There was no moon, and the sun was hidden behind thundering black clouds.

The sleeping city wakes.

Six corridors stretched out from the painted room. Leya chose the rightmost and entered a long tunnel. The hall was so narrow that if she were to stand on her toes, her head would touch the ceiling. Beneath her feet, the ground squished and sloshed under a thin layer of stagnant water. The smell was magnified through her connection with Shade; the stench made her stomach twist and her mouth water. She had to stop and breathe before she could swallow the bile in her mouth and continue forward.

A deep red light lit the passage, though she couldn’t say where it came from. Like everything else in the maze, it seemed to exist without reason. There was an endless row of doors to her left, but nothing to her right. Leya tapped against the right wall and found nothing but thick stone beneath her hand. She continued forward, pushing and pounding against the wall to her right. The sloshing and squishing beneath her feet did nothing to ease the sounds she heard. There was scratching and scurrying within the walls that made her think of rats. Shade heard them too for when he looked in their direction, they stopped. He would bare his teeth and snap at the air, his irritation slowly returning. The sounds behind the doors were even more disturbing. One of the doors shook and thumped. From another, a woman cried from the other side pleading for someone to open the door. Then further down came a pained shriek that elicited a panicked growl from Shade. He swiped instinctively, and his anxiety trembled in Leya’s mind. Leya touched him and his anxiety lessened. The two hurried passed.

But, not all the doors were closed.

Resolved not to look, she kept her attention to the empty side of the tunnel. There had to be a door somewhere but as she searched, she found nothing, and eventually, her curiosity got the best of her.

In the first door, a valley of white-barked trees with golden leaves was lit up as if it were aflame, yet no fire was anywhere to be seen. Old Pandaren temples stood abandoned and crumbling with thick black tentacles protruding through the stone. The burnt orange that lit the city highlighted the floating obelisks and staggered platforms. Engorged parasitic worms flew overhead, carrying servants of the Void. And eyes, like the ones carved into each door, bulged from the trees, temple walls, obelisks, and monuments. The swiveled back and forth, up and down: looking, watching, observing its masterpiece. The black storm clouds parted and that’s when Leya saw the god that loomed over the valley. Its dome-shaped head was split down the middle with teeth stretched towards the sky. It wanted to consume it all, Leya could sense his will pulsing in her veins. It wanted everything. It wanted her to have everything: the valley, the sky, the moon. It would all be bathed in his image. It felt her too and in unison, hundreds of orange eyes looked upon her through dark slitted pupils. The whispers in her mind soared.

All eyes shall open.

Leya forced herself to meet the gaze of the god before her. Aerren and his bitch had thought themselves Gods. They had no idea. This god was power, this god had a plan. They were fleas compared to what this thing could do and Leya was afraid. Black smoke snaked through the valley, reaching for her, but before those bits of corruption could drag her in, she slammed the door. The sound traveled down the hall and the wooden carving of an eye stared at her. Leya could hear her heart in her chest, beating to the rhythm of the void that surrounded her. In a fit of rage, she screamed and buried a purple and white fletched arrow into the center of the wooden eye. Gathering some catharsis, she moved forward but only as far as the next open door. The sweet smell of sap and heavily spiced food gave her pause and she peeked through to find...

A home with no door.

Steamed grape leaves sat in a woven basket, sitting atop a pot of boiling water. She’d never forget the disheveled bed that they never bothered to make or the wall that Leya had started carving important dates into. The day they met, their wedding day, Ari’s birthday because she always forgot. And there, just inside the archway were their initials. A.S. + V.L.! It was a silly thing Leya had done once they’d realized they’d swapped names. The entire home was like that: a chaotic mish-mash of red and gold, violet and silver. It didn’t match at all. Nothing in their home belonged. The sight of it made her heart ache with longing.

My home.

As soon as she thought it, steam breathed out of the basket signaling that the meal was finished. Van came into the scene and knelt at the hearth. His long hair was tied back and a quiet smile was on his face. Leya’s heart jumped in her throat and her hands quivered. Even Shade mewled quietly at her side. Van carefully took the basket from the fire and set it aside. He glanced over his shoulder and his kind silver gaze found her. “Leya.” his voice purred in her ears as he stood and held his hand out to her, making a sweeping gesture to the food. Tears stung her eyes and her foot edged forward.

She wanted nothing more. Even if it was a lie, it was beautiful.

Shade’s cold wet nose touched her palm and the grief she felt in him matched her own. No. Leya thought. She pulled her foot back and touched the top of Shade’s head, searching for strength. “I can’t, I have to go,” she said to Van, her cheeks wet with tears. “Others are counting on me. I love you.” Van’s smile fell and his brows knit together in worry. He took a step towards her, reaching out to hold her, to comfort her.

She shook her head and backed away from the door, I’m sorry. It’s gone. Our home is a pile of ash. I can’t go back. She closed her eyes and let Shade lead her away.

Further on, Leya came upon a feast of corpses. Soldiers, savagely slaughtered, laid in pools of congealing blood. Some had been separated from their heads while others were cut open and bleeding with their innards poured out of their bellies. Flies buzzed around severed hands which still clutched their swords and shields while carrion perched on rotting flesh and picked at the eyes. Standing in the center of them all was a woman tall and lithe in stature. Her skin pulsed with a deep blue void, hiding the trail of freckles across her nose. Her eyes, wide and black met Leya’s and she spoke in a tired, twilight voice. “This is how we save everyone.” Behind her a man appeared, silhouetted in the red darkness by golden light. A loving smile touched the corners of her lips. Pleased, she winked and put her back to Leya. “Hello, Hummingbird.”

Leya ran.

The hall went on and on, door after door on the left and never on the right. There were more doors than she could count. Open doors, closed doors and none of them would draw her attention. Shade ran beside her, growling low, and Leya ran until she could run no more.

Finally, she came to a pair of double doors emblazoned with gold. They swung open with such force that it made Leya stop and look. A fair woman lay sprawled on barren dirt with a sword run through her chest. Her flesh had been picked from her body and from the blood that pooled around her, flowers of blue and gold bloomed. Many of the petals had been picked clean and the woman still bled. Gasping and convulsing she was focused on the sky above her. Her cheeks dusted with dirt and tears, her mouth stretched open in an inaudible scream as the sky shattered into shards of thin glass and a chained hand reached down, bloody and desperate to finish her. Leya watched as the woman’s life was taken and in a panic, she turned away. They had to keep moving.

With us, you will find salvation.

It would be another hour before the long hall finally ended in a rising wooden staircase. Every door opened or closed had been to her left. Leya looked back. The unnatural light that guided her was going out, she realized with a start. The Void wouldn’t let her do this forever. She could see only thirty doors at most and as she watched one more disappeared and the darkness came a little farther down the hall, creeping towards her. As she watched, she could hear something moving. It was the rattling of broken chains and a form shuffling, dragging itself slowly through the stagnant water. There was a slop and a hiss that made the walls around her tremble. The void in her surged and her fear rose, manipulated by the unseen force. It was powerful and it promised death. She could not go back and she could not stay here. There was no door on her right and the stairs went up. The Void would have her and she’d be lost. Better to have gone through the door with Van than face this unknown.

Another door disappeared. Then another. The sounds grew louder. Shade’s tail lashed from side to side and his hackles rose as he pressed himself back against the wall.

He hears it too. He’s afraid.

Leya began to pound her fist against the wall on her right. There has to be a secret door I cannot see.

Another door disappeared.

Another.

The first door on the right, he said, always the first door on the right.

Leya looked over her shoulder at the row of doors still left. The first door on the right... It came to her. … is also the last door on the left! The Void loved technicalities. There was no time to doubt. Leya turned around and threw herself through the door. Beyond was another room with four doors. To the right, she went. With new vigor, she went to the right and to the right, and to the right, until she was once again dizzy and out of breath.

She stopped in another obsidian chamber, but only one door awaited her. It was the mouth of a cave and Malorne waited on the other side. “Child.” he said, “You have made it out safe.”

“What?” Leya said, confused. “I’ve been in there for hours and still not found it.”

“You have taken a wrong turn, then. Come, I shall show you the way.”

Leya started towards the mouth of the cave but hesitated when she saw a small wooden door to her right, closed...

“That is not the way, Child.” Malorne’s voice was firm, “The Void Seed continues to corrupt the Dream and you must find it.”

“You cannot save me.”

“Stubborn child, you will be lost and never found. Your brother will die trying to find your bones.”

Leya walked away and Malorne shrieked, “No, No! To me, come to ME I say!” His horns collapsed inward and his face crumbled until it was nothing but a skull. Yellow and red eyes bulged from his sockets, staring at her while a tentacle lashed between bone-white teeth. “You are mine!”

She left the nightmare behind, entering a stairwell. One that went down. She and Shade began to descend and before long her legs were aching. The staircase finally ended and opened into a room. It was fashioned with doors made from dark, heavy wood. Leya laid her hand against the one on the right and she could sense the power of the Dream radiating off of it. The wood of a World Tree. It was beautiful; unlike all the other doors she had encountered, this one was heavy and healthy. A picture of the moon with the clouds and the stars was intricately carved into it. The fear that had chased her, washed away as she pushed the door open, praying to whatever god that would listen, for this to be the last.

The room was bathed in twilight. All walls had fallen away so what remained was a night sky full of stars. The moon was nowhere to be seen, but the flood of stars in the sky was enough to light the obsidian dais in front of her. On that dais was a flower of incredible beauty. Its petals were broad and navy blue. There was but one singular center petal curved protectively around the stamen. From its center, a mist of concentrated voice seeped out then dispersed in an indigo light throughout the room at the pace of a steady heartbeat.

We knew you were to come. We have been waiting, Ada’Leya. We have knowledge to share with you, the flower beckoned, And power to bestow. You have passed every trial. Now come, all your questions shall be answered.

“I’m not interested in your power or your answers.” Leya took a step towards the flower and Shade snarled. His distrust mingled with Leya’s and it gave her pause. Shade stalked around the altar and his nostrils flared as the flower sent out another wave of corruption. His anger was as strong as hers, “The Void has done nothing but cause pain.”

She reached for the flower but before she could, she heard a voice as thin as a mouse's whisper. “Leya.” The small voice was a shout in the quiet of the room and did not reverberate in her mind like the others. It was small, sweet, familiar, and real. She found him in the far edges of twilight, his bright blue, laughing eyes disguised by all the stars around him. He came forward, dressed in the armor of a Farstrider. He had Ari’s face and deep red hair just like hers.

“Dad.”

A gift… gift… gift… The flower echoed in her mind. She stared at the man she had not seen in nearly twenty years. He was exactly how she remembered him. We can give you a family that loves you… accepts you…

Her father embraced her. “My little girl.” His voice was soothing. Had it always been? Her mind grew foggy as she tried to recall memories of her father. His hand slid lovingly through her hair, his voice becoming a distant echo. “My free, brave little girl. You are perfect.” Her knees buckled under her own weight and her forehead rested against his chest. “That’s it, my girl, rest.” She lifted a hand and watched as ribbons of void were pulled from her fingertips.

Another trick. It’s always a trick. Leya tried to push away from him but she was too weak. Another pulse of the void came from the flower. It rippled through her bones and held her where she stood. It commanded her to be still and her body was too weak to resist.

Her eyelids grew heavy and her father’s face became a blur. Shade. She could barely make out the shape of the nightsaber charging towards her. Let me in… she went limp in the arms of her father and her eyes rolled into the back of her head.

It was Shade’s anger that woke her. A wave of deep rumbling anger at the monster who dared touch his master’s Life Mate. The Hunt replaced the Void in her veins and the urge to fight, to protect overwhelmed all other desires. Her eyesight was sensitive enough so that the darkness of twilight was more like dusk. Her tail thrashed from side to side and her fur stood along her spine. She saw her weaker body, limp and weak, through Shade’s eyes.

She bared her fangs as the corrupted scent of the Void hit her. The smell was wrong. This whole place had the wrong smell. Shade’s thoughts intruded upon her own, ... not the smell of nature, it told her... corruption, kill it… protect. Her father watched her with a satisfied smile “Unruly beast. You can do nothing without the command of your master, can you?” He spat, he raised his hand and in tandem with the heartbeat of the flower, pushed her away with shadows. The force of the spell was enough to throw her off balance but not enough to knock her off her feet. She was powerful now, there was real strength in her paws, and her feet and mouth were daggers that could not be taken away. The small elf couldn’t stop her.

The monster continued to pour Leya’s void into the flower. It became engorged the more it was fed and its roots dangled off the edges of the dais while the stem thickened and took on a bark-like texture. Leya crouched and when her father’s back was turned to her, she lunged and tackled him to the ground. Her elven body dropped in front of the dais, but she paid it no mind. The only thing she could see was her target. Her razor-sharp claws shaved metal off his breastplate and her fangs crunched into the armor. Her two massive incisors punctured the metal and crushed his lungs. The bones gave under the pressure of her bite and the taste of hot blood flooded her senses. It fueled her anger as she flung the body of Arithil Lightweaver across the night sky.

His body hit something solid with a crack. He stood and with one side of his chest caved in, laughed. Leya licked the blood from her nose and let out a loud roar. She charged and tackled him once more. The two of them tumbled in a haze of fur and flesh. Her back legs found him and ripped through his abdomen while her front claws tore the flesh from his face. As she reached with open jaws to remove his head from his shoulders, he struck her with a powerful surge of Void energy. She skidded across the ground with a hard thud. Her fur rubbed raw as she hit the altar, nearly crushing her weaker form. Her chest was on fire as the direct hit from the void began to seep into her skin. She roared and then everything went black.

She woke up.

Shade was a mere five feet away from her, standing and readying to charge the Seed’s servant. His shoulder was naked from his fall and she could see the Void creeping across his exposed flesh. Leya took advantage of his distraction and scrambled to her feet. She stood with such speed that whiplash turned her stomach in knots. With the taste of blood still in her mouth and her head pounding, Leya wretched. She grabbed the corner of the dais and pulled herself up, coughing while her entire world spun, the sensation threatening to relieve Leya of her stomach’s contents a second time. Shade’s anger and pain gripped her through their connection, she regained her focus and reached across the dais, grabbing the flower by one of its delicate leaves. How dare you -- Leya tore one of its petals off. For my mother. She pulled off another one, For my father. Both hands clutched the last two petals and she tore them from the heart of the flower. My sisters.

Shade roared in pain behind her. Another blast of void struck him, and she could sense its corruption seeping into their bond. There was a hard push on the back of her mind. The Void tried to take over again but her own void, fueled by anger, pushed past the pain.

You will die for this!

I hope so. She reached into its center and grabbed a hold of a soft, fleshy mass on the inside and pulled. For Ari. The void’s servant screeched in pain. From the corner of her eye, she saw Shade grab him by the back of the neck and in one quick motion, snapped it.

She smiled.

Leya yanked harder and pulled out the core of the flower. A heart of bruised blue sat in her hand, pulsing with corruption. The night sky around her fell away leaving nothing but a stone cave littered with the bones of the lost Kal’dorei. She looked around at the dozens of bodies that surrounded her. All appearing as if they’d been there for years, the flesh long rotted away and their robes faded and moth-eaten.

Leya clutched the heart and took an arrow from her quiver. She shoved the head of the arrow into it and when it persisted, she let out an angry scream. She tore the arrow out and stabbed it again and again until it came to its final beat. As the beating heart slowed, Leya’s anger began to subside and relief started to replace it. The heart bulged in one final beat but then exploded. Leya flew backward and the void sizzled inside her. It was everywhere, in her fingertips, her toes, her blood, and her heart. It seared her from the inside and bombarded her mind with taunts and whispers. There was so much, she couldn’t try to comprehend it. She felt shade at her side and his paw on her chest. The void, in slow pulses that followed her own heart, balanced and returned to normal. The flower sat rotted on the dais and the heart was nothing but a mass of torn flesh in her hand.

Leya threw it to the side and climbed to her knees. Her under armor was soaked through with sweat and her unbound hair stuck to the side of her neck and cheeks. Her eyes felt heavy and a dull throb of pain endured at the back of her head. She leaned into Shade and pressed her forehead to his. The Void corruption in him was gone with the flower and she breathed a sigh of relief.

The cave spun and suddenly they were in darkness once again. But she couldn’t discern the Void’s presence anymore. It was gone, and all she could feel was the flow of nature wrapping around her skin invigorating her and returning her energy.

Malorne appeared, “The Void is gone, Child.” He walked towards her, big silver eyes the only two stars she could see. “Ohn’ahra was right to choose you.” Leya stayed quiet as he touched his nose to her forehead. “You have my thanks, and my blessing, Ada’Leya Starwind. Use it wisely.”

As he turned to walk away, the darkness began to fall and she could feel herself being pulled out of the Dream. Leya quickly scrambled to her feet. “One question!” Malorne stopped and looked over his shoulder at her, ears turned forward, waiting. Even as she gathered her words, his image was fading and her mind was beginning to clear. “Which tale about you and Elune is true?”

The stag seemed to smile and his answer woke her up.

#Ada'Leya Lightweaver #Ada'Leya starwind #World of Warcraft #The Lightweaver Chronicles #Void whispers #void elf #ren'dorei #the emerald dream #Visions #original writing #original characters #fanfiction #Personal Journey #malorne

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god-of-my-world · 5 years ago

Text

HC ep 2 - Grey End Transcript

this is mostly for potential analysis, but I thought I’d post this (and any future ones) anyway.

Characters: Charlotte, Anri, the Teacher, Students, Umbrella Man, Frei, C (mentioned)

[Vote for Anri]

I hope your decision is the right one, Seth. This way, I'll fulfill my promises to both C and Anri. I give my vote to Anri. Anri looks at me in surprise.

"You've...actually voted for me?"

"We've made a promise, didn't we?"

"Ah...right. we did. We sure did! Look, Anri's voting for you too."

Anri chooses my name in the list.

"Attention, please! Everyone, STOP VOTING NOW! We will now count the votes. Please wait for a moment."

3...2...1…

"Aaaaaand the one who'll amount to nothing, the most useless of all, the one with zero votes is...VINCENT WORDSWORTH! Not only he never SOCIALIZED, he didn't even attend class!"

"That's a lie. C lost all points because he ran away from the House."

"Such a worthless being can never become useful to SOCIETY. He's destined to amount to nothing! Therefore, his SOUL DATA is CORRUPTED. Am I right, everyone?"

The audience roars with a 'YES'.

"What a loser."

"...it's all because I've abandoned him."

Everyone's clapping and laughing.

"LOSER GOD! LOSER GOD!"

It feels like a mass psychosis. It shouldn't be like this. Anri touches my shoulder. She's smiling, just like everyone else.

"Serves him right. It's great we didn't get chosen, right?"

I don't know what to reply with. The guards start making their way to C. I see Umbrella Man among the crowd. His yellow eyes stand out among all.

"What a good day, isn't it?"

"Umbrella Man! Your employer, he-"

"Excuse me, what?"

"The god of this world! He's-"

"Oh. Are you talking about that grey-haired boy? Haha. Ha. Pfft. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Oh god. My stomach hurts from laughter. I expected nothing less from you, to be honest. Unfortunately… That boy is a perfectly human being, not special in any kind of way. Come on, take a look at him!"

I call out to C.

"Vincent!"

He hears my voice and turns around. I stare at him. What stares back at me… Is the abyss itself. Then, for a brief moment, I finally see his face.

"..."

A face of a small scared boy.

"!!"

He disappears behind the doors. I feel my feet move forward on their own.

"Where are you going?"

"I have to save him."

"Are you insane? Forget that loser!"

"I save him once. I'm now responsible for his life."

"No, you're not! You'll stay here with me."

"...I'm sorry, Anri. I have to go."

"Wait!"

Anri grabs my sweater.

"I won't let you go! People don't return from the Smile Room! You'll stay here! Where you belong! With me!"

I break free from her grip.

"I'll be back in a moment, alright?"

>NEW TASK: Save Vincent!

[Walk into the smile room]

You're not a loser god, C. I think you're wonderful. You're wonderful exactly because you're flawed. Because it makes you so very human. We’re flawed. We’re born to make errors. We hurt each other because we’re essentially egotistic. That's why I want to know you better.

C is lying on the table with his eyes open.

"Vincent!! I'm so glad you're safe. Thank god…"

"Wait, miss Wiltshire. Something's off."

"Eh?"

"There's no data in this vessel. There's no soul inside."

"What are you saying, Frei? Vincent is breathing! He's right here!"

"What I am saying is that it's a lump of meat lying on the table. It's not a person."

"It...can't be. No way. You're lying."

"I do not tell lies, miss Wiltshire. We were too late."

"..."

I feel the ink rise in my throat. Everything begins to collapse. It's not fair. Not fair. Not fair. Not fair. Why has it come to this?

I will consume everyone and have them sleep peacefully inside my belly. No one will ever hurt anyone, and no one will get hurt. Because no one would feel anything. Humanity would ascend to a new level and evolve into something greater. So I rose above all cities and countries. And ate, and ate, and ate until my belly was full. Until it hurt so much it was hard to breathe. I ate my classmates, my parents, my imaginary friends and the Oracle itself. I ate the lands and the buildings. I ate junk food and concrete altogether. Everyone was gone and my body eventually collapsed from the burden of consuming everything in sight. I became a black hole that sucked everything in, destroying it all. There was no one but me left, yet I was with everyone at the same time. For I became the world itself.

Holding an empty shell of a false god I cried.

“Liar! You liar! Vincent you liar! You said your earthly shell would wither and you would become a god again. Yet no matter where I look, I can’t find you!”

I cried, and cried, and cried until my voice became hoarse. I'm sorry, everyone. I couldn't save anyone or anything. I'm sorry Anri. You protected me. You got angry in my place. Yet, I thought only about myself. I’m sorry, Vincent. All this time i wanted to be saved myself. So I sought salvation in you. I wanted you to become my hero. But it doesn't matter now.

"Now that's too tragic. Don't you think my dear?”

“You?”

“Hello there.”

You're still alive?”

“My dear, that's a harsh way to put it. Of course, I am. The world you've consumed is a particle in the vast universe.”

“Then why are you here?”

“I've come on my own accord.”

I clutch Vincent's body close to mine.

“Easy, easy. I'm not here to take him away. Instead, I've brought you something.”

Umbrella man brings out an item he was carrying. It's a box.

“What is it?”

“What does it look like to you?”

“A soul cube.”

“Then a cube it shall become. It's a copy of this boy's soul. it was rather hard to get. I'm afraid the original is destroyed though.”

“Souls have backup copies?”

“Well of course. Data backup is essential. You must've thought you were able to go back in time. When in reality, your soul cube copy was loaded into a new body every time you died.”

“I've never thought it was like this.”

“Although you cannot bring him back to life, with a soul cube he won't vanish from this world completely.”

“So no matter what, I couldn't save him in the end.”

“You still can save his soul. If you open the cube, you'll release his soul data. He will become a Stargazer and pass the Purgatory stage. Who knows? Perhaps he'll want to stay with you afterward. Anyhow, enough with idle talk. Charlotte Wiltshire. You've consumed the energy of an entire world and an Oracle and made it a part of you. You can convert the energy inside of you to create life from zero. When it runs out all you have to do is consume more. In short… you've become a god. A binge eater at that. That's a fact. If you don't mind, may I ask, what do you plan to do now?”

“I'm tired, Umbrella Man. I want to rest.”

“Is that all? You now have the power to consume worlds.”

“I've never asked for it.”

“Then, do you plan to leave this domain?”

“I will remain here. I don't want to eat anymore, Umbrella Man.”

“Oh well. There are alternate versions of yourself who still struggle in countless parallel worlds. So are people you care about. Will you abandon them too?”

“...no. I want to look over them. I still want to protect everyone. Umbrella Man. You know everything in this world. You exist outside of the time, in both past, present, and future alike. Would you help me watch over my world while I rest? Right now it may seem hopeless, but perhaps there's a chance for a better ending.”

“Is that an employment offer, Miss Wiltshire?”

“Yes. I want to hire you. Would you accept?”

“Fufu. My loyalty comes with a price, my dear. In return, you shall lose your name. The world will forget your human existence, and your name shall become an empty sound. Your alternative incarnations shall never learn about you, and your name will be erased from all soul archives. You will go by many names, but none of them will define you. For I will eat it. Would you pay this price?”

“Yes. I accept, Umbrella Man.”

“So fast! You really don't value yourself at all. a contract between a Name Eater and World Eater. How thrilling. Ha-ha-ha! I suppose hiding my true nature is meaningless now. After all, it is you who invented the concept of Observers and Puppeteers alike. Such things as episodes with me talking to your Puppeteer were no more than visions of a delusional grade-schooler.”

I laugh a little. It sounds a little hysterical.

“Have I said something funny, my dear?”

“No, it's just...You've always said that your employer cared about my well-being. Now that I realized who was all along, I couldn't help myself.”

“‘Oh the irony’, am I right? The moment you hired me was destined to happen all along.”

“By the way, ‘Umbrella Man’. That's how I called you since I was a child, right?”

“Why yes. I've grown accustomed to this distasteful nickname.”

“Do you have a real name?”

“I go by many names. People give them to themselves. For example, you can call me ‘Charles’.”

The man laughs mischievously. I laugh with him.

“Now then. I shall give you some privacy. You still have things to do before your slumber, don't you?”

Just like that, Charles disappears. I look at the soul cube in my hands. It's small and grey. Fragile. I smile to myself.

“You know Vincent, I never noticed how fragile you were. You feared germs, people and human life itself... So you've decided you didn't belong to this world. I wonder how it felt all this time. I was so fascinated with you that it made me ignorant. ...although ignorance is a trait we share. ...It's time to let you go.”

I open the soul cube. It's contents disappear.

“...See you later, Vincent.”

I take his body in my arms and get up from my knees. Everyone - Magcat, Felix, Aiden, Bennett, Florence and Huxley, and many, many more - walks behind me. As long as I exist, they won't disappear. After all, I've created them. We walk for a long time.

In a field of ink and paper, meat and machinery, soap and bugs, the god of this world lies beside me. He will, too, wake up one day.

“Goodnight, Vincent.”

My eyelids become heavy. I know it'll be a dreamless sleep. I don't want to dream anymore. I finally close my eyes.

Rejoice Seth, faithful friend of mine. I became the god of my dollhouse world and will observe it's people until the end of time. Charles will eat my name and will watch over me in every single timeline that exists. The world will forget my existence. But you won't. And that's the only thing that's important.

GREY END: Eternal Rest For God

#hello charlotte #transcript #charlotte wiltshire #anri warhol #umbrella man #vincent wordsworth #frei

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mournholdvacation · 5 years ago

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That time Sotha Sil almost mantled Azura, a RP between me and @boethiah.

Me - Seht @boethiah - Ayem

The Sul RPer, is not on Tumblr.

(Long Post)

Something was, happening.

Coward.

The word beat in his skull, pounding like a thudding engine.

Almalexia, crest fallen, head bowed under the pressures he had left her with. His people, burning under the fire spewing from the sky. His Morrowind, broken and gray, the spark of life choked by ash and decay.

Aetherius's shard, buried deep within him, pulsing with fear, with pain, with anger.

No.

Kindling his own magicka he let it explode from within him, a golden flame licking up from his body and suffocating the roots that held him. An act of resistance, of anger, one that had seemed to die with him upon first opening his eyes in Moonshadow.

Daedric Princes could not die, but they could be defeated, they could be harmed. The magika escaped Sotha Sil and tore up the hand that cupped his face, golden light shredding skin and vine alike. Azura roared, a deep hideous sound unlike any girlish affect she'd adopted in the past-- she had been offended but never wounded, not until now. Reeling back, the Prince grasped her own smouldering arm rounded on Alandro Sul. "END HIM!"

"HOW DARE YOU," Sul screamed, charging at Sotha Sil with Hopesfire blazing in his grasp. But just as he got near enough to swing it the blade twitched and jerked in his hand, causing his whole arm to sway as he struggled to keep it in check. He wobbled as the force of the sword's defiance nearly threw him off balance, hissing through his teeth as it yanked him away from his quarry.

"FOOLS!" he shrilled, reaching over to grab the hilt with both hands. He strained to lift it into a position to hit Sotha Sil, pouring his unnatural Daedric power into the effort. "Now you will--"

And then he screamed a very different sort of scream, a pained one, as the sword in his hands became completely wreathed in fire -- now decidedly more blue than purple, and very much intent on searing him to the bone.

There was, of course, something simple Azura had overlooked in her 'corruption' of Hopesfire; even this mere shard of Almalexia took Boethiah's teachings quite literally. In self-preservation it had worn the skin of Trininac, feigning broken-ness until its moment came. Its moment had come.

Its fire unfurled across Alandro Sul, forcing him to drop it, and for a moment as it clattered to the floor the energy contained within it was made manifest, unfurling as something dragon or mer or too shrouded by blue flames to tell. SEHT, it called out in a voice unfittingly familiar for the situation at hand, USE MY STRENGTH. END HER NOW.

Alandro Sul bellowed in combined pain and rage, his horrendously blistered hands steaming and shaking as the flesh started to reform. "No!"

With a pain filled hiss Sotha Sil pulled himself to his feet, wrestling the sword from Sul's trembling, burning hand and allowing the blue flames to ascend up his own arm in a rush of heat. It met his own power, wild and vivid, coating his skin with a golden shine and rolling over the grass; a wildfire set ablaze. A golden light erupted from his hand, momentarily blinding the Daedric Prince and her servant as Seht reached for and seared the tendrils of Moonshadow clinging to his soul.

A lash of fire curled about his right arm, snaking about his feet before closing its fangs over Sul's legs, immediately searing the skin from his bones. His eyes, dark as blood turned their gaze upon the Prince. A machine, the Temple sculptures had portrayed him. Terrible, cruel, and golden. Not so far from the truth, at the end. Not so far from the now, as his power rippled about him, strengthen from Azura's sudden loss of grip upon his soul.

'Azura,' Sotha Sil said, form wavering in the sheer power of the magicka swirling about him. 'I cannot kill you, but that you will soon regret.'

Alandro Sul crumpled to the ground and howled, nothing but charred meat and bone left of his legs. The strength of the magical flame was such that even a demiprince's regenerative powers could not soon restore the flesh and so he writhed, rolling onto his belly and attempting to crawl toward Azura. "My Lady," he gasped, reaching for the hem of her skirt. "Help me..."

Azura stared at the two-- at the one of them, for Hopesfire had surrendered itself completely and utterly, Almalexia the Lover, what was given to Nerevar in marriage is given to you now freely, and there was only its power now-- Azura stared with a strange expression that went beyond rage, beyond offense, beyond mortal comprehension. Clutching her burned hand she stared as the connection was severed and its ruin fell around her feet in ashes and incinerated petals. If she felt Sul at her feet she did not show it.

"Vanity," she breathed, "Vanity and arrogance! Pride and a prophecy!"

With that she released a shrill laugh and pulled-- the thorns that her realm released sunk not into Sotha Sil, but into the golden skin about him, the part that was too different from she to fight it. And then Hopesfire was wrenched back, in the form of a woman and then in the form of a blade, that clattered to the floor beside Azura.

This had exhausted her power, and she fell to her knees, and Moonshadow began to fold in around them like a rose blooming in reverse, closing itself off to the world, pushing out anything that did not belong. Pushing out the now free Sotha Sil.

The space of air left in Hopesfire wake filled, the fire taking the form of a sword gleaming with the pinpoints of a thousand and thousand Dunmer souls. A last act of revenge, a last lasting mark.

With a lunge he closed the gap between him and Azura, hand falling on her shoulder as the blade pierced the darkening skin cutting through her with a hiss and filling the air with a terrible, gray mist that seemed to scream with an unnatural fury. For a moment the fire of Sotha Sil's anger dimmed, a mere candle as Azura's own power bit back into him carving a mark down the palm of his hand, down the side of his wrist and then around his arm.

Thrashing he stumbled back, grabbing for Hopesfire as Moonshadow seemed to erupt around him, violently heaving as the ground rolled beneath his feet.

Azura discorporated, or nearly, in tendrils that ceased to obey the rules of Nirn: she dissolved into loose threads of fate, strands of prophecy unrealized, whirling clockwork. But in her last furious throes she reached out, wrenching Hopesfire out of Sil's grasp. As Moonshadow finally withered closed she thrust it into Sul's arm, and then the realm was shut off, sealed, barred to any mortal who lacked Azura's favour, and in turn Azura's influence was barred from the world.

Nirn, conversing and rippling and splitting into a dozen different pieces and snapping back together in a patchwork whole. Time slowing, and then speeding, and then cracking into a million different pieces; withering the plants, decaying the wood, and shattering reality.

All happening before Almalexia's eyes, all contained within one single room.

Waves of light, brilliant red and dark purple spun about, Mundus shuttered as Moonshadow closed upon itself and forced the burning, raging fire into the mortal plane.

Daedric manifestation, the likes of which she hadn't seen on Nirn for millenia. Almalexia drew Goldbrand and stepped back, falling into a battle-stance. So this is the end, the thought danced across her mind unbidden; watching time make and unmake itself repeatedly, twisting her own linear soul in knots, she found herself preparing for a duel she could not win, and wondered with her last seconds what would become of her followers.

The madness subsided and her sword-arm dropped. "... Sotha Sil?"

With a desperate hiss the flames subsided, wisping into mere tendrils and then sparks as a golden hued figure unfolded his arms, palms turned upward and raised at his side.

Sotha Sil. Golden and Terrible; a machine of clockwork lingering above dark flesh and twisting turning, collapsing and rebuilding with the rhythm of his own heart. An orb, a globe in his right hand, spinning and expanding and withdrawing. In his left hand, the a shimmering ocean; a brilliant blue of life tossing and turning and breaking upon the shore.

Azura. Dark and Beautiful; the Twilight made manifest in a spray of color and draping fabrics and flowing hair that wavered and reached and swept into the sky. The too brilliant sun in her left hand, blinding in its fury and casting rays of purest light. In her right hand, the moon; serene and all consuming, sparkling and blending with its sister to drape the room in crystal and gold.

Almalexia's hand slackened, and Goldbrand fell from her grasp entirely, clattering to the floor. In contrast to the apparition, her light dwarfed by its light, she looked... mortal, an ageing mortal woman with her hair loose and her clothes ragged from so long in the wilderness.

"Sotha Sil," she said softly, raising both of her hands to show the palms. "Sotha Sil," she repeated, stepping forwards to greet the god before her. "Seht..."

'Almalexia.'

Sotha Sil's voice, or perhaps Azura's, she cannot tell.

The figure stepped forward, hands still outstretched and the ... object ... still swirling about upon his hand. A smearing of colors, all blending into one another with no discernible beginning or end. A being that could be called Sotha Sil, but would answer to Azura.

Walk like them until they walk like you.

'Almalexia.'

The ocean, the moon. The city, the sun. Something laced in-between; briar-vines or the flesh they ripped, or perhaps both. Almalexia felt a pang of grief. Those wounds were so deep, the thorns that made them savage.

She tried to think of the words to call him back from the chaos and found none; she was not Vivec, she knew no spells, she held no keys to unlock the world. She tried to find a gesture that would reverse this and failed; she was not Sotha Sil, she could not wind back time at her whim. She thought of picking up the sword; but she was not Boethiah, she could not cut her way out of this.

"You're hurt," she uttered, reaching out for the god's wrist. "You've been wounded. Let me heal this."

At her touch, Sotha Sil's arm wavered, dipping slightly as her gentle fingers closed about his wrist. The figure in his hand dimmed, trembling under some unseen pressure.

'Almalexia,' he breathed, face glowing the beauty of the dawn.

Almalexia turned her head, lowering her gaze to her task, the slim wrist in her hand-- were these deep scars that showed where some vine had bit, or were they the vine itself, its thorns cutting her own palm? Did it matter?

The spell she conjured was simple for someone who wielded the strength of gods, a rudimentary healing spell, the sort taught to children or apprentices, drawing on her native magika rather than the vestige of Lorkhan that clung to her soul. But it worked, knitting new skin over the old wounds. A rose-thorn rebuked her, drawing a droplet of blood from her thumb. Would Azura know mercy if she were shown it?

"There, my friend." Her voice was shaking. "All better. How does that feel?"

'Almalexia,' he said again, eyes turning on her form at last and seeming to stare through her, through the very walls of the Temple and into the future itself.

'A city caught upon the web, a sword upon the innocent, a peasant in a crown of gold.'

His eyes unfocused then, the City and Ocean becoming a little sharper

"Sotha Sil, the Artificer, who shapes the here and now, crafting the very future into a shape he finds pleasing." Almalexia's voice rose. "No seer of prophecy, only--"

Her hand had tightened on his-- their-- wrist, she realised, nails digging in like thorns. She forced herself to let go and step away from him, her arms falling to her sides.

"I won't hurt you again," she said aloud. "We are not daedra, my friend. Whatever you choose, I will not fight you." Her voice softened, then. "And I choose this. It's always our choice."

'Sotha Sil.'

A gasp, a groan escaped the figure's lips, arms lowering further as Mundus shivered at the splitting of two newly merged souls, melted together and then ripped apart in seconds that resembled centuries. Sotha Sil Who Is, Who Is Not Azura, crumbled to the ground, hands closing upon the City and Ocean.

Almalexia lunged at Sotha Sil when he crumpled, catching him around the waist before he could hit the floor, pulling him up and into an embrace and keeping the both of them upright with her own strength. "Shh, shh," she murmured, dragging him back, to the bed in the corner, "You're here. You're here."

'Ayem,' he said, voice wavering but his own, his own echoing in her ears.

'Ayem,' he repeated, voice becoming stronger as he closed his hand on her wrist pulling it close.

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bucklesomeswashswan · 6 years ago

Text

Once Upon a December (3/10)

Summary: Emma doesn’t remember much of her past, all she knows is she needs to get out of Misthaven. The mysterious group called the Industrialists continues to gain power and control since they overthrew the royal family over a decade ago. Out of options, Emma joins forces with a conman Killian and his partner Ruby in their plot to pass her off as the lost princess of Misthaven. But as they travel together and Killian and Ruby try to teach her how to be a princess, Emma begins to uncover hidden pieces of her past. When threats start closing in around them will she choose to escape to safety or risk everything to find her family and reveal a dangerous secret that could change history forever?

Rating: M

Story content warning: some descriptions of violence, slow burn

Part of @captainswanbigbang 2018. Updates every Saturday!

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 also read it on AO3

Check out the artwork for this fic by the impossibly talented @prongsie!

Thanks again to everyone reading and following along with this story! This chapter’s a bit of a long one so grab a snack before diving in! xx

Chapter 3: Through a Silver Storm

The castle faded, lost behind the rooftops as Emma followed Killian and Ruby along the narrow streets. They seemed to be weaving a path known only to them, following sidewalks for a stretch only to duck down an alley, and then turn down another street, turn after turn, until Emma was completely disoriented.

All around them the city was alive, humming, and so different from the countryside she knew. It had been reborn with all the innovation of the Industrialists. Everywhere their inventions and influence could be seen. Each a cog in the machine of their control.

As they made their way away from the central district of the city the buildings and scenery changed. The wide avenues lined with trees by the castle gave way to streets lined with stores. Each with a window hawking their wares. Some with the latest fashions, beautifully embroidered fabrics and lace. Others were for smiths and butchers. And then there were some with complicated machines, gears and intricate arms all moving on their own. She had paused to watch to them for a moment. It was like nothing she had ever seen. She knew these were the stores managed by the Industrialists, all of them part of the Industrial Guild. It was so hard to believe that these stores filled with such wonders were connected to all the stories of corruption and terror.

But eventually the stores also became fewer and when they crossed a small canal they were surrounded by tall residential buildings pressed in close with barely any space between them. Clothes hung from lines strung over the curving streets. Here children in frayed clothes laughed and ran ducking around them. The air of poverty hung thickly here, but it was softened by the sense of community and routine. The scolds of mothers that could be heard, the rhythm of the broom as a withered man swept his stoop, and the smells of dozens of dinners being made in the apartments stacked on either side of them.

Both Killian and Ruby seemed to relax a little as they moved farther into the slums, their pace slowing a little. They didn’t seem to fit, their clothes too fine and too clean, their faces too unlined compared to those that looked up as they passed. Even so, the people on the streets didn’t seem surprised or unnerved by the pair that didn’t seem to belong, in fact one man dropped a nod to them as they passed.

Emma’s feet were aching when their pace finally slowed by an unmarked door. It looked like any of the other worn and crooked doors that lined the street. She eyed it warily.

“This is us,” Killian said to her.

Ruby turned the handle, giving the door a bit of nudge with her shoulder before it gave with a groan.

Killian gestured for Emma to follow. She hesitated just a second before carefully stepping into the room beyond. She had been expecting them to have lead her back to their home, but this seemed to be a mix of someone’s living room and a pub. There was a small rectangular table that had mugs lined up along it, and two large kegs stood beside it. The rest of the space was scattered with mismatched armchairs and stools around empty barrels flipped to act as tables.

There were only a few people in the place but they all looked up when she entered. Their eyes sweeping over the three of them before turning impassively away.

“What are we doing here?” Emma whispered to Killian beside her.

He looked down at her with a half smile before placing a hand at her back directing her toward the kegs. “We’re meeting a friend.”

“Friend?” she repeated glancing back over to the figures in the room. None of the wary looks shot in their direction seemed even vaguely ‘friendly.’

Killian followed her gaze and chuckled. “Not one of them, he’s much more of a scoundrel than that bunch.”

Emma tensed, the group in the corner looked somewhat, she struggled for the right word, unsavory. Each of them had sharp eyes that burned with a particular danger. The kind of men she had learned over the years to give a wide berth.

“Scoundrel?” a voice repeated behind her. “Surely you must be talking about yourself, Jones.”

Emma turned to the newcomer. He was older than she was, his face just starting to show the years and there was a touch of grey to the hair at his temples. But he seemed to fit in this place better than Killian or Ruby. His clothes made from less showy, more sturdy, practical fabrics. His brown hair was swept back, and his eyes were kind and framed with fine lines that deepened as his smile widened.

“I pride myself on being a gentleman,” the man said with a small bow, gently taking Emma’s hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

Emma stood frozen looking up at him, but Killian bristled beside her. “Okay, that’s enough,” he said taking half a step between them. “You’re hardly a gentleman anymore, Robin.”

Robin dropped her hand before looking at Killian. “Closer to a gentleman than you’ve ever been,” he shot back and though his tone was playful Emma caught a glimpse of Killian’s scowl as he turned away.

“Forgive me, miss. In all this squabbling we haven’t been properly introduced. I am Robin Locksley. ”

“I’m Emma,” she said.

His eyes flickered from her eyes to her hair and then to Killian. “Is that so?”

Killian cleared his throat. “Actually that’s why we’re here, we’ve got a job.”

Robin’s eyes scanned the room until they landed on Ruby. He smirked. “Should have known.”

As if on cue, Ruby made her way over to them. “Robin,” she greeted passing him a mug of ale.

“Ruby,” he murmured in return. “Didn’t think I’d be seeing you again so soon.”

“I’m afraid we need you,” she told him.

Robin looked at her carefully. “Never known you to be afraid, Ruby,” he said softly.

Emma noticed that neither Killian nor Ruby commented on his remark and after a moment Robin let out a sigh.

“Fine. Come on, let’s take a seat,” he said waving them toward a table in the corner. “I’m sure I’m going to need to be sitting to listen to any half-baked idea from the two of you.”

Killian only rolled his eyes and Robin dropped a wink to Emma before taking a large sip of ale, and she struggled to untangle exactly what the nature of their relationship was.

The table Robin chose was far enough from the others that they wouldn’t be overheard. Emma slid into one of the chairs, Killian taking the one next to her.

“So what is it this time?” Robin asked looking between them. “Not another airship I hope? Did you hear about the docks today? Roland was down there, heavens knows what would have happened if he had-”

“It’s not an airship,” Ruby said cutting him off. “It’s not our usual type of job.”

Robin’s gaze drifted to Emma over the rim of his mug.

“Not their usual type of job indeed,” he said. “So how do you figure into this? I’ve never seen you before and Killian and Ruby don’t make friends easily.”

“I-” Emma faltered glancing at Killian not sure exactly what their story was supposed to be.

“We need to cross the border,” Ruby said before Emma could finish. Robin choked on his drink.

“Oh, is that all?” he asked dryly pounding himself in the chest.

Ruby leaned forward. “We both know you can do it.”

Robin frowned. “Why not just use your fancy forged documents?” he asked nodding to Killian, “You’ve got the best bloody forger in the city, you don’t need me.”

Emma glanced at Killian a little surprised. He was the best forger in the city? How had he managed to avoid being arrested by the industrialists.

“It’s more complicated than that,” Killian said. “And after the raid on the docks this morning the normal crossings are going to be on lockdown.”

“We need another way over the border. We need the merry men,” Ruby said. Robin seemed to go still in a moment, like a deer in the forest.

“Now why would I endanger my own people for a half-assed job like this?” he asked her.

It was a fair question and Ruby opened and shut her mouth twice, her eyes casting around for some answer to give before they landed on Emma.

“She’s got coin,” Ruby told him.

“Wha- wait-” Emma started but Ruby cut her off with a sharp look.

“This wouldn’t be cheap. For a few of the lads, it would take at least….” Robin trailed off as if trying to find a sum high enough.

“Twenty silver,” Killian said.

Robin’s eyebrows raised. “Is that an offer?”

“Yes.”

Robin laughed lowly, “Well then, let me see what I can do. Stay here, I’ll be in touch.” He rose from his chair and gathered up his jacket before disappearing out the back door.

As soon as Robin was gone Killian took a deep breath slumping back in his chair, rubbing at his eyes.

“Twenty silver?” Ruby hissed at him. “Where in all of hell are we going to get that?”

“Emma has it,” he replied without looking up.

Emma stiffened as Ruby turned to her.

“What? What would make you think that?” Emma asked.

Killian looked over at her locking her in place with his gaze. “Because you offered us eight silver just for papers. Surely someone as intelligent as you’ve proved to be wouldn’t have bargained everything you had for just the papers,” he said before adding, “And you showed us your purse.”

Emma scoffed. “Oh, and you can tell how much was in it just by looking at it?”

Killian shrugged. “I’m a criminal, darling.”

Emma scowled. In that moment she hated his knowing smirk, hated all of it, but most of all she hated that he was right.

“How long is Robin going to be?” Emma asked impatiently.

Killian shut his eyes again and made no indication he had heard her though his hand seemed to drift to the pocket watch tucked into his waistcoat. His fingers lingered over the lump in his pocket as if he longed to hold it. She didn’t know what was stopping him. Perhaps it wasn’t even a conscious thought, simply a force of habit, a gesture he didn’t even realize he was making.

“Could be awhile,” Ruby said, her fingers absently pulling at one of the curls in her hair.

“What are we supposed to do while we wait?” Emma asked.

Ruby fixed her a unreadable expression before a smirk pulled slowly at her lips. “Well, I never like to waste an opportunity,” she said cryptically as she stood up and smoothed her skirts like a parrot preening its feathers.

Emma watched a little dumbfounded as she floated off making her way over to the other occupied tables. She watched as Ruby leaned over in a flirtatious way and started talking to the men there. It was only a minute before she was slipping into an empty chair at their table with a laugh, settling her chin on her hand as she gave a small flutter to her eyelashes.

Emma turned to Killian. “Is she…?”

“Yes,” he said his eyes still closed.

“Does she-”

“She does whatever she wants,” he said. He didn’t seem at all concerned.

“I thought you two were… together,” Emma said a little awkwardly.

That made him look over at her curiously. “Ruby and I?” he asked and then chuckled. “No, not like that.”

Emma glanced back at Ruby across the room and watched her chat with the men around the table.

“That’s one of her favorite ways to get information,” Killian told her. “A few of those men work on the docks, they’ll have information on the riots this afternoon.”

Emma turned back to him. “Those riots, how often do they happen?”

“It’s happening more frequently now,” he said. “It’s going to make this whole thing more of a nightmare.”

“Those people, they were only taking food and supplies,” she said.

He perked up, straightening in his chair. “You saw it. You were at the docks?”

She pursed her lips realizing her mistake. Stupid. She shouldn’t have said that.

He pinned her in place with his gaze. “You knew my name,” he said piecing it together. “In the castle.”

She didn’t say anything.

“Who told you where to find me?” his voice was cold steel.

“Killian, I-” she stammered.

He leaned forward. “Who sent you? Who are you working for?”

“It was a boy, just a boy. I didn’t... “ she said the words falling over each other.

The accusation in his tone and expression making her desperate to reassure him. “He told me where to find you.”

“What boy?” he demanded.

“I don’t know his name. He was about ten, curly brown hair, talkative.”

Killian seemed to relax a little. “Roland,” he muttered casting his eyes to the ceiling.

“You know him? Who is he?” Emma asked.

Killian gave a long-suffering sigh as he said, “He’s Robin’s son, of course.”

Emma bit back a smile, of course. Now she could almost see the resemblance, in looks and character. “He was pretty fond of you,” she told him.

Killian glanced at her before a small smirk pulled at his lips at the mention of the boy. And for a moment he had a look of genuine affection before he quickly hid it behind his mug as took a long drink.

“You seem close with Robin,” Emma observed.

“We’ve worked together in the past.”

“For some scheme or another I’m sure,” she said.

Killian seemed bemused by her response. “If you had such an aversion to criminals then you shouldn’t have searched them out.”

Emma was about to shoot back that she hadn’t searched him out, but she had. In fact, she had been so desperate to find him she had broken into an old castle. And again she hated him for being right. She had a feeling it was something he made a habit of,

“Well it was seemed like my only choices were criminals or Industrialists. And it didn’t seem like the blackguards would have taken my money,” she said.

“The Industrialists would gladly take your money, love, but you wouldn’t get much in return.” Killian rubbed at his left wrist as though the hand under the glove he wore was bothering him.

Emma caught the motion. “Are you hurt?” she asked.

His hand immediately dropped from his wrist as though he hadn’t realized he had been touching it. He glanced at her quickly before giving a half shrug. “It’s nothing,” he said offhandedly. “Just an old wound.”

"Doesn’t seem like nothing,” she said.

He seemed to sense she wasn’t going to let it go. Emma watched as he pulled on the fingertips of the glove easing it off revealing not skin and flesh but an intricate metal mechanical hand. Each finger a complicated working of gears and working joints. He clenched and straightened them as if to show her. She stared. It was a miracle, responding to his thoughts and commands as if it were bone and muscle.

“What happened?” she breathed.

He glanced up at the pity in her voice. He pulled the glove back on carefully. “Had a bit of a run in with the blackguards years ago,” he said.

Emma stared, she tried to imagine how something described as ‘a bit of a run in’ would result in the loss of his hand. She remembered the people at the dock, the way they fled from the blackguards, the screams, she was beginning to understand all the fear they seemed to inspire.

She struggled for something to say. But she was spared from having to make any response by a sudden thud as a man bumped into their table as he passed. All the mugs danced and clattered on the surface, her hands leaping out to keep them from falling.

“Careful,” Killian said the words almost a growl as he half rose from his chair, his hands steadying the table.

The man gave them barely a glance before continuing on his way and out the door. Emma wiped up the drops of spilled ale scattered across the tabletop. Killian slowly sank back into his seat not paying any mind to the mess on the table.

Emma glanced over to ask him for help when she noticed him worrying a small piece of paper between his fingers. She was sure it hadn’t been there a minute ago.

“Wait,” she whispered catching on, “did he pass that to you?”

Killian opened his hand and passed the slip paper to her. Emma unrolled it and read the hurried handwriting.

Whispering Tree. Midnight.

“What’s it mean?” she asked him, but he shook his head.

“Not here.”

Emma glanced around the dim room. It was that contradiction again. The criminal dressed like a gentleman. The house that wasn’t a house but a tavern. A place to meet a friend and a room of possible enemies. Like everyone in the city he seemed to be always wary, even of those most like him. Maybe especially wary of those most like him.

Killian stood, catching Ruby’s eye across the room. Emma quickly gathered her things and followed him out the door into the winter air on the street. There were small snowflakes falling lazily in the air and collecting along the edges of the cobblestones. She pulled her cloak closer around her.

“So what does it mean? The whispering tree? Is that a place? Another tavern?” she asked as Ruby joined them outside.

Ruby caught Killian’s eye giving him a small nod which he returned. Emma didn’t know what it meant, a signal? A greeting? It was so natural to them and so foreign to her, it made her feel suddenly alone.

“The whispering tree,” Ruby said in answer to her question, “is in the woods west of the city. It’s said to have grown from the body of a powerful wizard. People claim it whispers to those who are worthy, those who have magic.”

“People just hear the wind moving through the branches,” Killian said dismissively.

Ruby cast a glance at him before shaking her head. “Some people still believe in the power of magic and the old ways,” she said.

Killian waved her off. “Some people will believe in anything to ignore the terrible world around them.”

“Don’t mind him, he’s just grumpy” she said to Emma before turning to Killian. “What time is the meeting?”

“Midnight.”

Ruby beamed. “Perfect that leaves plenty of time for shopping. We’ll need a few things for our trip. And Emma needs a coat, she can’t go trekking across the country in that.”

Emma glanced down at herself in surprise. Sure, she knew her clothes weren’t luxurious or grand, they certainly weren’t as nice as Ruby’s, but they were fine for her.

“Actually, I did travel across the country in this,” Emma muttered.

Ruby raised an eyebrow looking her over. “Yeah, I can tell,” she said. “But I don’t think it’s going to survive another such journey.”

“Ruby,” Killian warned. “You know the rules. We don’t want to attract attention. Nothing suspicious.”

“We won’t be suspicious,” Ruby said. “You worry too much.”

“We’ve already promised most of our money to Robin,” he reminded her.

“I know,” Ruby said. “I won’t spend much.”

Killian didn’t seem like he believed her, but all he said was, “Don’t be late.”

He looked between the two of them his eyes lingering on Emma. She thought he might say something more but Ruby had already looped her arm through Emma’s and was pulling her down the street. She glanced back to see Killian looking after them.

“Really, Ruby, it’s fine, I don’t need a new coat.”

“Please,” Ruby scoffed. “Don’t argue, you won’t win.”

It turned out shopping did not mean in the shops on the avenues she had seen earlier. Instead they went to a warehouse in what seemed to be a part of the city dedicated manufacturing.

Ruby had opened the dingy door and winked at the guard just inside handing him a few bronze coins. He didn’t seem at all alarmed as she walked by and began perusing the shelves and racks of clothes. Emma followed a little more cautiously.

“This is shopping?” Emma asked Ruby.

Ruby looked thunderstruck, pity in her eyes. “Have you really never been shopping?” she asked in a quiet tone like she was afraid to know the answer.

Emma scowled. “Of course I’ve been shopping,” she said.

Ruby seemed to relax but still her eyes drifted over her clothes as if it was somehow sadder to know that Emma had paid for them.

“This,” Emma continued gesturing around, “this seems more like stealing.”

Ruby shrugged stuffing something from the shelves into her bag. “I paid the man at the door. Money exchanged for goods. Is that not the definition of shopping?”

She continued to move down the row picking up a few pairs of mittens and shoving them into her bag.

Emma figured ‘shopping’ wouldn’t be the only thing for which they had different definitions. She wondered how many others would come to light during their time together. Ruby picked up an intricately embroidered handbag inspecting it carefully before placing it back on the shelf. Emma certainly had found interesting companions.

“Have you not found anything you like?” Ruby asked as she packed a thick shawl into her bag.

Emma glanced around trying to spot something among the racks that resembled a cloak. In the end she found a new skirt and a thick brushed wool cloak in a charcoal gray that was both warm and soft. She had looked at a row of boots, running her hands over the smooth leather and thick soles, but she decided it probably wasn’t smart to try to break in a new pair of boots on a long trip. Her worn pair would have to make it across the border, perhaps when they got to Glowerhaven they would be able to find something new for her.

Emma had thought she was making quick work as she moved through the warehouse but when Ruby found her she had only a small pile of fabric in her hands. Ruby’s own bag was bursting with things.

“Is that all you need?” she asked eyeing the small stack of clothes Emma had doubtfully.

Emma nodded. “I think so.”

Ruby pursed her lips for a moment before shrugging. “Okay, well I got you some things anyway so we should be okay. Let’s go.”

The guard did not even glance up as they walked out with armfuls of goods.

They met up with Killian after dark. He had his own large bag slung over his shoulders. Emma wondered what things he had gathered. Was it practical, like all the scarves and gloves Ruby had picked, or was it more sentimental? She could tell he liked to stay hidden behind his high walls, but already she had seen glimpses of the man underneath. The way he chose to stay in a castle that was a touchstone to a way of life now gone, the way he still worried at the hand he had lost, and she was willing to bet that his pocket watch had some significance to him too. It was all small clues into his mystery. She had always been good at seeing lies, but still it was the truth he seemed almost desperate to hide that made her nervous.

“Ready?” He asked them.

Emma wasn’t sure she would ever be ready. Dreaming about one day leaving Misthaven and actually setting out on a path to do just that seemed very different all of a sudden.

Ruby nodded beside her and that seemed to be all Killian was waiting for. He turned and led the way toward the edge of the city.

They made their way west down smaller roads until the city gave way to forest. The trees here were different from those she had known in the rolling hills of the southern countryside. Here the trees grew from snarled trunks that stretched into long tangling branches. It obscured her view of everything around them. Without the small path she was sure they would have gotten lost.

“Do you come out to the woods often?” Emma asked softly, afraid to disrupt the eerie calm around them.

“No,” Killian said his eyes moving warily between the trees.

Ruby snickered. “He’s afraid of the woods.”

Killian straightened a little but he didn’t argue or stop his careful watch of the trees.

As Emma had traveled north to the city she had watched the moon fill a little more each night until just last night it had been full, but this deep in the forest she could only catch glimpses of it. And what little light filtered through the thick canopy created strange and shifting shadows that made her jump several times.

At last the path led them to a small clearing. She breathed a sigh of relief, glad to be out from under the trees even just for a little while. As she got closer Emma saw there was actually a large tree in the center of the clearing. It looked old, older than the others in the forest. The trunk was covered in twisted knots and the branches bent and hung at odd angles, some had even broken and fallen on the ground.

“Is that it?” Emma asked. “The whispering tree?” It wasn’t exactly what she had been expecting.

Killian nodded. “Yeah, that’s it.” He looked slightly nervous.

“Where’s Robin?” she asked scanning the clearing.

Killian pulled the pocket watch out from his vest, flipping it open. He tilted it to read it in the moonlight. “It’s not quite midnight. We’re early.”

Emma walked slowly around the clearing as they waited. She found herself straying closer and closer to the ancient tree. Up close it wasn’t quite so menacing. Just another tree in any other forest. She repeated that in her mind as she reached out to touch the rough bark on the trunk.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Ruby called from behind her.

Emma paused but didn’t pull away. It was just a tree and she hardly believed in any local superstition. After too many years of broken hopes and hardships, there wasn’t much Emma believed in anymore.

She certainly didn’t believe in magic. Sure, she had heard the stories, and once she had even seen a fortune teller at a carnival reading people’s futures. But it was all tricks meant to take advantage of gullible people. There was no real magic, people made their own luck, everyone decided their own fate.

She wondered if meeting Killian, Ruby, and Robin was fate. When they made it across the border she wouldn’t be coming back. Everything she had known her whole life, all of it would be gone. She would be a refugee, an outsider everywhere they went. The finality had struck her a few times already, but with each step her anxiety grew. She closed her eyes taking a deep breath before reaching out, her fingertips pressing into the tree. An old strength beneath its ancient bark.

At first she didn’t even notice it, or maybe she thought it was just the wind through the trees. A soft sound around her. But then she realized there was no breeze, the air around her perfectly still. And still she could hear a buzzing. No, it was more like she could sense it, feel it deep within her. A hum, a murmur. A small whisper that was growing louder.

She jerked away from the tree stumbling back a few steps. She swung around expecting to see Killian or Ruby there playing a trick on her, but they were yards away.

“Did you hear that?” she called to them.

They both turned to look at her. Killian’s eyes swept over the trees at the boundary of the clearing. Emma realized they thought she meant she heard someone coming.

“No, the humming,” she said.

Ruby shook her head. “It’s been quiet.”

Emma frowned but tried to shake it off, it was just a legend, and why would she have been able to hear anything anyway?

“There you are,” Robin called out from the trees. “Should have known you’d be early.”

Emma squinted into the darkness in the direction of his voice. She was glad for the interruption, she didn’t want to dwell on the humming from the tree. Robin emerged from a different path than they had taken, and he wasn’t alone. A group of four other men followed him out into the clearing each of them leading two horses.

Robin shook Killian’s hand and gave Ruby a small kiss on the cheek before he turned to her. “Pleasure to see you again, Miss Emma.”

She gave him a smile in return. The noise and bustle of more people and horses was comforting and it filled the clearing, drowning out any other sounds that she might have heard.

“Horses?” she asked looking at the animals. The forest hardly seemed a good place for even the most sure-footed horse.

Robin smirked. “We’ve got a day to get to the border, and this is our best option.”

“A day?” Ruby asked.

Robin nodded. “There’s a train leaving. It’s stopping in Steveston and then it will cross the border toward Glowerhaven. It’s the last train for the month.”

Emma frowned. “What about taking an airship?” she asked. The others turned to her, a range of expressions on their faces.

“Airships aren’t an option,” Robin said. “The blackguards have already seized all docked airships and halted any further air trade. It seems Gold is really cracking down on the raids this time. The roads through the mountains are being watched, none of our people have returned from the mountains for two months now. The train is our only option, and the train tomorrow is the only train.”

Killian ran a hand over his face. “Bloody hell.”

“What you don’t like trains?” Robin asked.

Killian frowned. “No, I don’t like poorly thought out plans.”

Robin grinned. “You get what you pay for, mate.”

Emma still couldn’t shake the uneasiness she felt. This wasn’t going as she had imagined it. Each new part of the plan left her feeling more out of step, vulnerable, and disoriented.

“Aren’t you worried about the horses in the woods?” she asked. “There has to be a better way. Maybe one of those mechanical carriages?”

She thought of the carriages she had seen on the streets. With the forest pressing in around them being safely seated in one of those seemed like an attractive option.

Ruby, who had already been stroking one of the bay mares answered. “The industrialists can track any of their own technology.”

Emma frowned. In all she had heard about the Industrialists she had never heard that. Maybe it was a secret they didn’t tell the public. She wondered how much of their control she had been ignorant of.

“The industrialists used their power to force out anyone not in their guild,” Robin explained noticing her expression. “They shut down any manufacturing they didn’t control. It was a way to manipulate prices and profits, and power.”

“And now all technology has been made by them,” Emma concluded solemnly.

Robin nodded. “And so now they can track it and use it to spy on people.”

“That isn’t fair,” she said.

“It isn’t supposed to be fair, it’s meant to make it easier to control people,” Killian said.

“Why didn’t anyone stop them?” Emma asked frustrated that everyone just allowed anyone like that to seize power.

Ruby shook her head. “The Royals tried, but by the time anyone realized what was going on, well, you know how that ended.”

Emma clenched her teeth. Shouldn’t the royal family have had advisers, experts, someone to warn them? Perhaps they had, or maybe they had been in on it. She wondered if corruption had been as widespread then as it was now. Maybe the perfect, idyllic vision she had always had of the way her country used to be was just a fantasy.

“In any case, from here we have to be invisible to them. The blackguards are ruthless so you better hope to hell we don’t get a patrol of them following us,” Robin said adjusting the reins on his horse. “Since they can’t track horses, it’s our best chance they won’t see us coming.”

Emma glanced over to Killian. “What about your hand, or the pocket watch? Can they track those?”

Killian looked a little surprised. “They can’t track my hand,” he said the mechanical fingers clinking as he adjusted a strap, but he didn’t elaborate further.

“And the watch?” she asked.

He met her gaze for a moment before answering. “The watch wasn’t made by them, it belonged to my brother.”

She filed away that small piece of information about him. Slowly he extended the reins of one the horses to her, a truce.

She gave him a weak smile in return. The horse was a large black gelding. He was beautiful, with a wide face and deep brown eyes. He leaned into the hand she extended. She rubbed her hand down over his neck.

It took a few minutes for everyone to get ready and mounted. Robin took up the lead heading deeper into the woods. Emma looked one more time at the whispering tree in the clearing before giving her horse a nudge and starting off after the others.

The first mile or two was stressful as she worked to get her balance and anticipate any changes in his gait. Luckily her horse seemed to be sure-footed and better at seeing in the dark than she was. She decided to trust him to navigate.

Their group rode for several hours, the merry men taking shifts leading the way and covering the rear. She almost didn’t notice when they came to a stop.

“That’s the way to Tower Falls,” the man at the front called pointing up a path branching off from theirs. “I say we camp here tonight, we don’t want to enter fairy territory until daylight.”

Emma turned to look back at Robin who urged his horse up to the front. “Will’s right,” Robin said looking at Killian who was scowling at Will. “We’ll stop here. Everyone get some rest for a few hours.”

Killian seemed hesitant, pulling Robin aside to speak with him. His words were too low for Emma to hear but his tone was rushed and he was gesturing up the path. Robin laid a hand on his arm saying something that must have placated him because Killian didn’t protest further. Emma found herself unconsciously taking her cues from Killian, if he had decided to part with the Merry Men or ride off into the night she realized she would have followed. Luckily for her, he turned to unload his pack from his horse instead.

Emma rubbed her hands together, her finger stiff from the cold air. There was no point wishing for an inn, she hadn’t expected one, typically fugitives escaping in secret across closed borders didn’t have elaborate accommodations. But no amount of rational thinking could make her excited for a night out in the open in the middle of an enchanted forest with the temperature dropping and a storm coming if the clouds blocking out the stars were any indication. Already snowflakes were starting to float down around them.The night was going to be neither comfortable nor restful.

A few of the Merry Men whose names she didn’t know started a small fire for them to gather around. But no matter how many logs they added to the flames or how close she moved, it did nothing to take any of the chill from the air.

“You all settled in?” Robin asked as she spread out one of her blankets on the ground and wrapped another snugly around herself.

Emma nodded. “I suppose,” she said. “I’m a little afraid I’m going to freeze if I try to sleep.”

“We have a few tricks to prevent that.” He reached out to grab a mug sitting on the edge of the fire that she hadn’t even noticed. He passed it to her.

She gave him a nod of thanks as she wrapped her fingers around the mug to warm her aching fingers. “What is it?” she asked him eyeing the liquid inside.

“It’s tea,” he told her.

She took a sip savoring the warmth and then swallowed with a cough, her throat burning, and not just from the temperature.

“There’s a little whiskey in it as well,” Robin told her with a smirk.

She coughed again. “Thanks for the warning,” she grumbled but he seemed unashamed as he grabbed a mug for himself from where it was warming.

“You didn’t seem like a girl who couldn’t handle liquor,” he said.

Her brows pulled down. “What kind of a girl do I seem like?” she asked him

He took a hearty gulp, clearly not minding the alcohol. “You remind me of someone I met long ago,” he said. “Back when I was a country lord.”

“A lord?” Emma asked in surprise.

“Seems a hundred years ago. I used to spend my days hunting and hosting dignitaries. Now I can barely keep a roof over my own head or protect my family.”

The word family jarred her, an old wound of her own. Robin seemed to notice the small flinch.

“I can’t remember my family. I’m leaving Misthaven in the hopes of finding them,” she said. She couldn’t tell him everything but it was the short and simple version of the truth, and she had learned over the years that the short and simple truth was the easiest lie.

Robin gave a solemn nod. “A noble endeavor,” he said. “But that doesn’t explain how you managed to get Killian and Ruby to follow you.”

Emma shook her head. “No, they’re leading me.”

“Are they?” Robin asked.

Emma looked across the fire at where Killian and Ruby were sitting. They seemed to be bickering over mugs of tea.

“It’s a funny thing,” Robin said, “I’ve never seen them take an interest in anyone like this before. It seems there is something special about you. It seems we all sense it.”

Emma glanced over at him. He was watching her steadily, in a knowing way. It was as if he could simply look at her and see the truth. It was a less intrusive feeling than the way Killian looked at her and seemed to know her thoughts, her past, her secrets, but still it set her nerves on edge.

“There’s nothing special about me,” she said.

He pursed his lips and gave a small shake of his head. “Your name is Emma. You’re close in age so you must have been named after the Princess. Someone clearly thought you were special.”

Emma nearly dropped the mug of tea. His words, his mention of the Princess hitting a little too close to the mark.

“This doesn’t have anything to do with the Princess,” she said but there was a small quaver in her voice. “I don’t have anything to do with the Princess. That’s not why they’re leaving.”

“Really?” he asked. “Because I have known Killian for years, I know how he thinks. You have similar features to the Princess. And I’ve heard rumors of the King and Queen and a reward for quite an outrageous amount of money which means Ruby would be interested. It’s simple arithmetic after that.”

Emma opened her mouth but he held up a hand stopping her.

“Your secret is safe with me, lass,” he said and she believed him. No hint of dishonesty in his eyes.

“So you think it’s true?” she asked him quietly. “You think the King and Queen might have escaped all those years ago and they’re living safely in Glowerhaven?”

If Robin could get people across the border and out of Misthaven then it stood to reason that things, information, from abroad had made its way back through him.

Robin seemed to think over the question before shrugging. “I suppose it’s a nice thought. There was more than enough murder during the revolt. There are people who think the royals deserved to die more than many who did. But really, what I’ve learned from that dark time was that no amount of killing made anything better so why wish it on anyone.”

“Do you blame the royals for what happened with the Industrialists?” Emma asked him.

Robin blew out a breath and shook his head. “Hate burns very hot and it is very hard to control. What was unleashed was a long time in the making, and maybe the royals should have done more to prevent the revolt, but the Industrialists only harnessed a rage in the people that was already festering. In the end I think we only have ourselves to blame.”

Growing up in the aftermath of the revolt, alone and with no memories she had seen the hate Robin was talking about. Seen it and never fully understood it.

Her eyes landed on Will, one of the Merry Men, the one who had insisted they make camp. He was absently fiddling with a ring on his finger but she had the distinct sense that he had just been watching her, even listening to their conversation.

“Get some rest, Emma,” Robin said patting her arm. “We’ll reach the border tomorrow, and we’re going to need our wits then.”

“Goodnight,” she said curling up and pulling her hood up over her head.

~*~

Ruby woke with a start, startled from sleep by a dream she couldn’t remember. She rubbed a hand over her eyes and down her cheek trying to gather herself. It was morning, the eastern sky gray with the earliest light. She looked around the group circling the fire that had burned down to embers.

One of Robin’s men was keeping watch just beyond where a few were still asleep. The snow was falling heavier now, piling up around them. There was a hiss from the fire as flakes landed on the glowing logs.

She found her gaze lingering on Emma, their new companion. It was a little strange to have someone new around. For so long it had been Killian and her, sometimes they worked with others like Robin and his men, but in the end it was always Killian and her. And now there was Emma. And now they were leaving Misthaven.

It was a lot to take in so quickly. She would have thought it would have taken a force of nature to move Killian from Misthaven, it turned out it only took the right girl and the right plan. Then again Emma had proven herself to be something of a force of nature.

They had only met the day before and still Ruby could tell Emma was smart and shrewd and cunning. And more than that she was kind and courageous. But she was also alone, wary, slow to trust, and full of secrets. Emma was a dangerous mystery, but she was also Ruby’s opportunity to start a new life.

The wind picked up through the trees stirring the snowflakes in swirls around her and a few hundred yards away a flock of birds startled and took flight. Ruby straightened and turned in that direction but it was hard to see anything through the thick trees.

Robin stood and gestured to his men, each of them coming to attention and spreading out into the trees. She watched them disappear into the shadows some pulling out pistols and daggers. Robin met her eyes before stamping out the fire and kicked dirt and snow over the ashes. Ruby started to push things into her bag figuring if the fire was out they wouldn’t be staying in place long no matter what had frightened the birds.

Killian moved across the circle to Emma laying a hand gently on her shoulder to wake her. She stirred beneath him as he spoke softly to her.

“What’s happening?” she heard Emma ask him.

“There’s something out there,” he told her helping her to sit. “With any luck it’s just a deer or some kind of animal.”

Emma frowned. “What else would it be?” she whispered.

“In these woods,” he said glancing at the trees around them, “could be fairies, or worse.”

Ruby clutched her bag closer. Fairies were crafty, devious creatures known for tricking people down dangerous paths or trapping them in hollow trees and starlit ponds. Over the years they had been driven deep into the forest and the dark places had turned them vicious.

One of the Merry Men burst from the trees onto the path hurrying toward them. “Blackguard patrol, headed this way,” he said between panting breaths.

Robin turned to them and opened his mouth but before he could speak a steam whistle sounded in the distance. Ruby turned toward the sound.

“The train,” she said.

“Go,” Robin said pointing into the trees. “Go, we’ll slow them down.”

“Robin, if the blackguards are tracking us-” Killian said quickly.

“We don’t have time to discuss this,” Robin said cutting him off. “We’ll stay here and pretend to be a hunting party. We can keep them distracted and give you time.”

Killian shook his head. “No, come with us. You’re on the lists, Robin, they won’t be lenient.”

Robin chuckled. “I’ve been on their lists for years and I’m still here. Not all of us need fancy forged documents to get someone to believe our stories,” he said.

“Robin,” Ruby implored him. “Please, come with us.”

“Come with you where?” he asked her. “My boy is here, I’m not leaving him.”

He passed a pistol to Killian and shook his hand. “Good luck, mate.”

“Stay safe,” Killian said tucking the pistol into his belt.

Robin gave Ruby a quick hug and gripped Emma’s hand pressing a small kiss to her knuckles. “Do me a favor and make that bloody train,” he said.

Together the three of them slipped between the trees and off the path where the Merry Men were arranging knapsacks and stringing bows and arrows to hold up their guise of a hunting party. Robin was kicking at the snow where they had been to hide their tracks and cover their escape.

“Come on,” Killian said pushing a path through the snow piled in the underbrush.

The whistle blew again still a ways off, the sound echoing in the crisp air. Ruby quickened her stride, her bag thudding against her back with each step throwing her off balance. She wondered how far they were from the tracks.

There was shouting from behind them, barely audible from the distance. A gunshot rang out and Killian skidded to a stop looking back the way they had come. Ruby grabbed his arm pulling at him.

“We have to go, Killian,” she said as she dragged him a step.

He pulled out of her grip. “Robin,” he said his eyes meeting her, pleading.

She shook her head hating the words even as she said them. “We can’t help them now. They would kill us too.”

The train horn sounded through the trees louder now. Ruby could now make out the rhythmic churning of the engine and the clacking of the wheels over the ties and rails.

Ruby glanced from the direction of the train to Killian. She could read the indecision in his eyes, the guilt at abandoning their friend. But with each second the train was rumbling closer, their window was closing.

Another gunshot rang out and Ruby paused. This one was different. It seemed closer. She turned in time to see something move in the woods. The next second the tree trunk beside her exploded as a bullet struck it sending bark and splinters and snow everywhere.

Ruby screamed throwing an arm over her head as she ducked. Then Killian’s arms were grabbing her and pulling her behind a large tree beside him.

Another few shots whizzed by them ricocheting off rocks and trees.

“We need to get on that damn train,” she said.

Killian pulled out the pistol Robin had given him and cocked the hammer. He turned to her. “Go, Ruby, take Emma. I’ll cover you.”

Ruby nodded tightening the strap of her bag before spotting Emma hiding behind another tree a few feet away. She pointed to Emma and then toward the noise of the train.

“Go,” Killian said giving her push.

Ruby hurtled from their cover and wove her way through the trees. She could hear shots hitting the trees around her. How could the blackguards have found them so fast? Had they not stopped to investigate Robin and the others? Had they not stopped for an explanation, simply eliminating anyone they found? Ruby pushed her legs to run a little faster pushing through the drifting snow.

They burst from the forest beside the train tracks just as the engine roared by. Ruby turned and sprinted along the side of the train watching the engine, coal car, and the first few cars slip past her as each of them outpaced her. Emma was a few steps ahead of her and Ruby watched as she reached out and gripped one of the handles of an unmarked train car. She pulled herself up wedging her feet into the rungs of the ladder beside the wide door and used her legs as leverage to inch the door open and swing inside.

“Come on, Ruby,” Emma called holding her hand out as Ruby reached for her, their fingers just brushing.

Ruby let out a yell as a bullet grazed her side, her skin burning. The pain made her stumble and lose a few steps. Emma’s hand pulled away and she ducked back into the train car. For a moment Ruby was afraid she was going to leave them, hide in the safety of the steel car and leave her and Killian to their fate. The train would take her across the border, and that was all Emma had wanted anyway.

But Emma reappeared a second later with a small six chambered revolver that must have been stashed in her things and pointed it over Ruby’s shoulder a hard look in her eye as she aimed.

Ruby sprinted the last few steps and grabbed the rung of the ladder just as Emma fired, the blast making her ears ring. Her side ached as she pulled herself up and into the train car beside Emma. She panted digging a finger into the torn fabric of her bodice where the bullet had torn it. She searched for blood or a gash but there was nothing but tender skin. A near miss.

Killian sprinted from the trees a moment later heading toward their car. He let Emma provide cover fire with her revolver as he concentrated on getting on board. Emma, it turned out, was a deadly shot. She knelt with the gun braced in her hands and fired expert shots at the blackguards who broke from the cover of the trees. Ruby wondered what sort of life she had lived in the country that had necessitated sharp shooting.

Killian was nearly there, breathing heavily and reaching out his hand for the ladder when one last blackguard appeared from the forest behind them. He lifted his gun aiming it right at Killian. Emma noticed him from her position and leveled her barrel at him lining up her shot before she squeezed the trigger. The gun only clicked lamely, she swore realizing too late it was empty.

“Emma,” Killian called as he gripped the ladder with his left hand and tossed up his own pistol which she caught as it arched in the air.

Killian pulled himself up toward the door when a shot rang out from the trees. Emma aimed firing back and the blackguard fell.

Ruby saw Killian’s hand slip on the rungs, his body slamming awkwardly against the metal side, his balance off. Her hand shot out to catch him and help him into the car. As soon as he was inside she slammed the wide door shut.

Ruby took a deep breath as the gunshots stopped. They had made it. They were safe. They were leaving Misthaven.

#csbb #captain swan #captain swan big bang #cs ff #cs au ff #anastasia au #steampunk au #my writing

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grakkar-gorefang · 6 years ago

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| Prologue | Part I |

Saving Sinafay - Part 2

The air hurt to breathe here; coarse sand whipped up by a ceaseless wind which carved the imposing rock formations, mixed with the soot of volcanic ash from nearby fissures. So dry, so hot, the land itself choked the very life out of anything that dare tread in such a desolate place.

Grakkar drew in a deep breath, and sighed; he was home again.

“We made it… I can’t believe it.” he said, tone a mixture of excitement and lamenting.

He gripped his axe handle tightly, holding it now at his side as he looked around the remains of his former home. The portal had deposited the pair on the outskirts of the last Mag’har settlement in the region; Hellsreach Citadel, nestled in the shadow of the towering Blackrock Foundry. It was laid low since Grakkar had last been there - the Lightbound and their Draenei overlords must have razed what remained of the Mag’har presence there. It made Grakkar grunt aggressively, to think how blind those Draenei and his Lightbound kin were. They’d spit on the Ancestors, if they could - nothing but their precious Light was sacred to them!

“... The final conflict happened at Beastwatch, south of here.” he told his Nightborne partner. “And beyond that, Shattrath.”

Grakkar turned to Aelissah, looking her over to ensure she was alright. He expected she was; portals were something her people used often, right? He nodded, eagerly, ready to go! Ready to save his beloved Sinafay!

Or die trying.

Aelissah was well used to portals. The arid air and harsh wasteland… not so much. The very air burned her airways at every breath! She squinted at their surroundings, eyes drawn to the hideous looking foundry. What kind of savage creature conceptualized that sort of structure? Who could even live out here?

Her hand instinctively moved to her pocket, making certain the item that would assure their way home was still there. With a relieved sigh, she brought her hood up over her head and pulled the collar of her tunic up over her mouth and nose.

“I hope our travels take us somewhere more pleasant,” she couldn’t help but comment.

Grakkar chuffed, shaking his head.

“More pleasant for you to look at, perhaps.” he retorted. “But much more dangerous. The closer to Shattrath we get, the more Draenei there’ll be.”

He started south, taking the worn, familiar path south from Hellsreach towards the site of the Mag’har’s final stand… and the last place he saw Sinafay.

“You’ve encountered the Light, yeah?” he asked, as they walked. “They have it on Azeroth, too. I’ve seen it used, even by the Horde’s allies. But… not like these Draenei use it. They’re zealots - no question.”

His voice grew more grisly and disgruntled as he spoke of the Draenei; his distaste for them more than evident.

“We were allies, once. I think I told you. After the Alliance and Horde came to help us vanquish the Legion, we had a period of peace. But their blind faith in the Light ended that quickly.” he went on, as the pair crested the overlook to the flat canyon of Beastwatch. “Peace wasn’t enough for them. They wanted adherence to their single-faceted faith, uncaring of anything else. The Ancestors, the elements, not even your Arcane. Nothing but the Light is sacred to these oppressive monsters.”

He stopped at the overlook… standing in the last place he and his people stood before being whisked away to Azeroth. The Beastwatch was eerily quiet, still… and littered with bodies of Orcs and Draenei alike. Grakkar remembered the battle well enough, short as it was. He even saw a few corpses of Draenei and Lightbound Orcs he’d cut down, now being feasted on by buzzards. He searched the fields for a sign of Sinafay - Circadia said she was still alive, but Grakkar couldn’t help but worry he’d walk by her corpse without noticing…

“... This is what the Light brought upon my people, Lissah.” he scowled. “Death and pain.”

Aelissah’s ears flickered as she walked alongside Grakkar, indicating her attentiveness to his words. She’d encountered the Light, of course. The Blood Knights within the Guard has utilized it on more than one occasion, both to smite their enemies and to heal. She frowned, remembering the disastrous effects it had when mixed with the Void. She couldn’t deny the Light had its uses, but to claim it as the one true power source seemed foolish.

“My own people are example enough what a dependency on a single power source can do,” she said solemnly, “It is foolish to claim the Light as the only path one must follow.”

The smell hit her before the sight… the field of decomposing bodies, Draenei and Orcs alike. No one had bothered to dispose of the bodies?! It made her feel sick to her stomach, and she had to swallow down bile that rose in her her throat as she turned away,

“Let us not linger in this place,” she said, looking up at the sky for a change of scenery, noting the two moons,“Where do the elves reside on this world?”

“No elves.” Grakkar replied simply, as he carried on south… through the field of bodies. “The only sentient races native to Draenor are we Orcs, the Ogres, and the Aarakoa much further to the south. The Draenei are said to be from another planet altogether… forced from their homeworld because they wouldn't cave to an oppressive power.”

The orc scoffed, glancing back to Aelissah.

“Sounds familiar, yeah?”

The fields seemed to go on forever, even to Grakkar. He still scanned every face, praying to the Ancestors Sinafay's wasn't among them. His heart nearly stopped, seeing one or two faces that looked like her at a glance. He shook it off, clinging to Circadia's prophecy as it echoed in his mind.

‘She is alive.’

He truly hoped so.

“I'm sorry… that I wasn't entirely honest with you.” he changed the subject, as the pair passed by the last of the sun-baked corpses. “I worried you would find my motives selfish if you knew she was my love. She really did make the sacrifice to allow our people to escape, though. That much was true.”

Grakkar frowned at the memory, just as painful now as it was then. His helplessness to save her… it gnawed at him. He shook his head, slowing his pace so Aelissah could walk beside him - now that they weren't navigating through a sea of bodies. He turned to face her, and sighed.

“... But I suppose it's selfish nonetheless, yeah? Were she not my love, I would merely honor the memory of her glorious death.” he admitted. “I want to save her, though. I've lost a lot in my life, Lissah. I can't lose her, too.”

His thoughts flashed back, briefly, to Aelissah's home, and the pictures on the wall. Specifically, the one of her beside another elf. A male… probably. If not, a significant person in her life, nonetheless. He nodded slowly to the Nightborne.

“... You understand, don't you?” he asked… though he felt he already knew the answer to that question.

Aelissah’s ears wilted, her fingers instinctively reaching to brush a gloved hand, a ring on her finger hidden beneath the fabric. She understood all too well the plight Grakkar was in. She may not have had to deal with alternate universes and complicated time streams, but she knew the feeling of being separated from one’s love, and desperately wanting to be reunited with them.

“When my people’s leaders decided to strike a deal with the Burning Legion, some of us fought against it. My husband was part of a failed resistance movement.”

She frowned heavily as she walked alongside Grakkar. To her relief, patches of greenery became more frequent as they traveled south. It was good to finally see something living in this wasteland.

“As far as we knew, they had all been killed in the attempt. In his memory, I secretly continued to work as an informant and assassin for a small remaining pocket resistance. Over time, most of us lost hope… Until a little over a year ago, when we discovered First Arcanist Thalyssra still lived. The Dusklily Revolution was formed. With renewed hope and the help of the Horde, it was a success. The Burning Legion and corrupted officials were eliminated and our city reclaimed.”

She paused, for a moment, debating on adding the next part, “When I learned of survivors withering away outside the city, I searched for my husband.” She shook her head, “By the time I found him, he was too far gone. I had no choice but to end his suffering…”

Grakkar grunted, after a solemn silence during Aelissah’s tale. He frowned deeply, brow furrowed - to make such a choice… to lay a loved one to rest by your own hand… he gained newfound respect for the Nightborne’s strength. He wondered, if it came to it, if he could possibly do the same. His thoughts turned to Neela, his first mate, and their meeting on the battlefield. True to his Clan, he sided with the Iron Horde in their objective to conquer Draenor and Azeroth both. But Neela, a Frostwolf, stuck with her clan and resisted. He couldn’t cut her down then, out on the battlefield. Could he have, if she were so far gone, like Aelissah’s husband…?

“Tragic.” he grunted, sincerity in the word. “No one should have to put an end to a loved one’s suffering like that. My condolences, Lissah.”

He reached over, briefly patting the elf’s shoulder - mindful of the significant size difference between them. She wasn’t as sturdy-looking as others he’d encounter - including other elves - so a light tap was enough to convey his support without knocking her over.

“You honor him, though. A fighter for your people, rebuilding what was lost.” he added, with a firm nod. “He would be proud, yeah?”

“Thank you,” she managed a smile, looking over to meet his gaze, “I like to think that I do.”

She let out a sigh, before rolling her shoulders back, keeping her composure. It wouldn’t do well for her to dwell on her loss during this mission. This wasn’t about her. This was about Grakkar, and making certain his quest to save his mate would be a success.

“I knew when I agreed to this journey, that it was your love we were rescuing from the start. Your words did not trick me. No one travels through time and space, into the face of certain death, for a good friend.” She chuckled, giving him an amused glance, “If your choice to do this feels selfish, then I am selfish along with you. Your plight connected with me. It was as though I was looking at my past self. I want to save Sinafay. I want to see the two of you reunited.”

She let out another sigh, “I could not have my happy ending. You should have yours.”

“Heh,” the orc chuckled. “I guess I thought you'd chalk it up to a cultural difference, yeah? But it seems love is too universal to fool you…”

Grakkar nodded appreciatively to Aelissah, as the continued on into the Talador Pass. He was grateful she understood, though sorry she had learned such understanding from personal experience. That she was willing to continue on with him, knowing from the beginning, made him all the more grateful he'd met her in Stormsong. Ancestors only knew if he would've met anyone else who would not only understand as she did, but had a means to help like Aelissah did, as well. Clearly, the Ancestors smiled on him.

Despite…

His friendly smile faded, as he looked out at the mouth of the pass. It was… quiet. Much too quiet for comfort. This place was dangerous, because sightings of strong Draenei presence were constant - he had seen it himself in days past. To come upon it now, empty and still… he didn't like it.

“Be wary.” he said lowly, stepping off the beaten path. “This pass shouldn't be so peaceful…”

Aelissah drew her daggers and silently padded off the path and into the foliage. She was silent as her eyes darted around the area, noting the different hiding places a sniper might be located. If this was a regularly patrolled area, as Grakkar mentioned, then no soldiers meant traps. They would have to watch out for those as well.

She glanced to him, signalling to him that she would follow his lead. He knew these lands and their enemies better than she did. He had the best chance at spotting trouble before she did.

Part of her wondered if there were no guards simply because there was no Orcish threat to worry about coming from this direction… She didn’t speak that out loud, however. Pessimism wouldn’t help anyone.

Silently, Grakkar advanced into the pass. He kept off the beaten path, progressing through into Talador, itself. This region was now the heart of the Draenei empire; it shouldn't have been so unguarded, even with the Orcs having vacated. Dangers of all sorts still lingered in Gorgrond…

Noise from up ahead caught his attention. He signalled silently to Aelissah that he was advancing, before cresting the small overlook. The ground shook, and a mighty roar pierced the air at a distance. Draenic shouting followed, as Grakkar made his way around the canyon bend. Then, he saw it; the Draenei locked in a vicious battle with a wandering Gronn - a full grown adult, as big as a building itself! There must have been a measly six or seven of them, desperately holding their ground against the behemoth invader. The orc stopped, kneeling down before signaling his hidden partner to join him.

“Great,” he sighed, observing the battle. “That gronn's attracting unwanted attention here. More Draenei will show up at any moment to deal with it.”

He frowned deeply, assessing the scene. On one hand, it would be easy enough to sneak through with the Draenei distracted by the imminent threat. But on the other, the road further in was likely crawling with Draenei defenders on their way to assist. This was both fortunate, and unfortunate at the same time. Grakkar motioned to the right, where the canyon opened up into more gentle greenery. If they could get there without being spotted, they had a good chance of avoiding the fight altogether.

“We make for the foliage.” he suggested. “On my signal. Be mindful - more Draenei will be coming from the road nearby.”

Axe in hand, Grakkar stood once more. He hunched low, watching the scene for their opportunity. It didn't help they were behind the Gronn, with Draenei eyes looking their way. Their timing had to be just right…

“--Veni tiros!” a Draenei called out!

The Gronn’s rampage hit its fevered pitch; the monstrous beast leapt up in the air, and began to slam the ground repeatedly with its huge calloused hands. The ground shook, shook, and stray rocks began to fall from the cliffside. The Draenei defenders started to scatter!

“--Now!”

Grakkar seized the moment, and rushed for the foliage in the cover of the dust and chaos. Just in time, too - as a boulder crashed down where he was crouched! The pair weren't safe from the Gronn's tantrum, even at this distance!

Aelissah moved as Grakkar moved, somewhat in awe at the monster. It somewhat resembled an ettin, except broader and having only one eye. She’d have to ask her partner what it was once they got to safety. It didn’t really matter what it was at the moment anyway. Right now, it was the perfect distraction.

The dust and debris made it difficult to keep Grakkar in her sight. The ground shook under the monster’s tantrum, causing her to miss her footing and fall to the ground. Large falling rocks bruised her form, but didn’t keep her down. She’d lost track of Grakkar, but continued to move in the direction he’d been heading.

She didn’t quite make it, bumping into a larger form in the dusty air. A Draenei! It peered at her with a look of confusion. While they had seen elves back when the dark portal was open 50 years ago, Lissah’s colouring was starkly different. Thankfully, she recovered from the shock first, throwing dirt in his golden eyes and striking out with her dagger. She caught him in the throat, silencing any call for help he might have attempted to utter. She didn’t wait to see if her strike had been fatal. She was on the move again in an attempt to find Grakkar.

It was as Grakkar feared - horrible timing! The pair rushed into the Draenei reinforcements, shrouded by the dust and debris on their way to help deal with the gronn! The Orc encountered a pair of them, wholly unprepared to see an Orc, of all things, emerge from the dust! Grakkar let out a battle shout - no need to be subtle now - before swinging his axe laterally neck-level with the nearest of the two. His head was carved clean off his shoulders, a look of confusion and fear frozen to his lifeless face. The other Draenei, however, retaliated quickly against the familiar foe. Grakkar was slammed hard by a crystalline hammer, which sent him off balance back into the dust cloud. Barely keeping hold of his axe, Grakkar shambled back to his feet, snarling at the silhouette of the Draenei before him.

The gronn’s tantrum kept up for another moment or two - the Draenei who earned its ire unable to get free from the monster’s rampage. A couple were smashed under the gronn’s hand… thankfully, it seemed that group had their hands full.

The other Draenei rushed at Grakkar, shouting in Draenic to try and rally his allies! Grakkar parried the hammerswing with a ferocious grunt, before following up with a strike of his own. He clipped the Draenei’s leg, forcing him to a kneel. Pressing the attack, Grakkar kicked the Draenei over, and finished him off with a swift downward strike!

“Lissah!” Grakkar called out through the dust. “They’re upon us! Make for the trees!”

He turned to make for the foliage, making it into the cover of the underbrush. He took a moment to survey the scene, looking both for Aelissah and any more encroaching Draenei reinforcements - those two couldn’t have been the only ones…

For a moment, Aelissah considered making her presence known to the other Draenei and give Grakkar a chance to get away unnoticed. Then, she thought better of it. She didn’t know these lands: This planet. The two getting separated, no matter for how short a time, could prove to be a fatal mistake.

She remained low to the ground, her leathers thankfully blending in well with the dust in the air, allowing her to move easily unseen. She went into the direction she heard Grakkar’s voice, managing to make her way to the foliage without attracting anymore attention to herself.

Just in time, as the gronn set itself into another tantrum. Lissah remained seated on the ground, pressing her back against the tree for support. They had to get away from the area, but she didn’t want to move without Grakkar. Her ears flickered, attempting to pick up any sound over the battle between gronn and Draenei.

Another Draenei stumbled upon the Orc - he wasn’t exactly hiding, between shouting and slaying the oppressors that stood between him and Shattrath. They came to blows immediately, grappling as their weapons locked. Grakkar let loose a piercing roar, as he began to overpower the Draenei. Snarling and baring his fangs, the sight of the Warsong warrior was clearly far too intimidating for the single Draenei to handle! He staggered back, and turn to run away!

“Coward! Face me!” Grakkar shouted, lunging forth and catching the fleeing Draenei by his tail.

He yanked hard, bringing his foe back and to the ground, before quickly finishing him off by caving in his skull from behind. He jumped up immediately, prepared to face any others who may have made their way up the path. To his disappointment, there were none. Grakkar looked back at the gronn, still rampaging and slamming the ground with fervor. He retained his footing well enough, far as he’d charged from the scene. He looked again for any signs of Aelissah - a futile exercise, of course. He knew well enough that if Aelissah didn’t want to be seen, she wouldn’t be. With a grunt, he headed deeper into the foliage, and dipped down low. The fighting was over, for now. He watched from his hiding place among the roots and brush, hoping to see Aelissah. He couldn’t leave without her - they were partners! She was on an alien world, unfamiliar to her.

Besides, she was his only way back.

Aelissah’s ears swiveled towards the sound of someone… or something, moving through the foliage to her right. It wasn’t obvious, and would most likely be missed by a regular person, but the elf had a keen sense of hearing.

Her eyes narrowed and she gripped her daggers tightly. Pushing herself off the tree, she kept low as she silently stalked through the brush. Her ears continued to twitch as they listened carefully for anything else. She froze as the sound stopped.

Grakkar had told her to make for the foliage. She’d heard him fighting… had he made it to safety? Or was she being hunted by something else? She took a chance at the former.

“Grakkar?” She hissed, keeping her voice at a whisper.

Grakkar turned quickly to the voice whispering his name. Could it be…? Sinafay? --No, that’s ridiculous. It was obviously Aelissah. His eyes focused on the Nightborne, as she called attention to herself. He surely glanced over her once or twice, her drab leathers blending her into the backdrop. But now, focused on her eyes as they fell over him, she really wasn’t that far from him. With a grunt, he nodded and approached - keeping low, as not to attract any more Draenei eyes.

“That wasn’t so bad…” he smirked. “I got all three that saw me. One shouted, but… I think the others were too distracted with the gronn to notice. We should be clear...”

He took another careful look around, for any movement in the trees - in case he was wrong. It looked safe… for the moment. He motioned further into the treeline, due south, then nodded to Aelissah once more.

“Let’s press. Keep low and out of sight.”

The sounds of the battle grew faint the further south and into the trees they ventured. The foliage changed as they progressed, from a thick, humid, and green, to vibrant reds and oranges. The hike lasted several silent minutes - Grakkar kept quiet, watchful, in case they stumbled upon any more threats. So far, so good.

The sun dipped lower as the remainder of the day grew short. The trees began to thin out as they descended down a hilly slope, until finally, the two reached a clearing. The western, right-hand side opened up into a bay - on the other side, illuminating the evening sky, sat the shimmering city of Shattrath. Grakkar frowned, expression a mixture of disgust and determination. He grunted, and motioned out to the brilliant display.

“That’s it.” he told Aelissah. “That’s Shattrath. We’ve reached the Orunai Coast - well into Draenei territory, now.”

Aelissah couldn’t help but stare at the lovely scenery the trees of Talador offered. The bright orange colors of the leaves were so vibrant and different than the world. Clearly, she enjoys the area much more that the desolate wasteland they’d arrived in. She had to keep reminding herself they were in enemy territory. She wasn’t a tourist out here, she was on a mission!

Her partner led them well. They hadn’t attracted any attention since they’d left the pass. Clearly, he knew the area well!

Her jaw dropped, however, as the bay and the sight of the magnificent city came into view. She gasped, and couldn’t help but stand there, frozen in place as the admired the Draenei capital.

“It… it is beautiful,” she breathed, before clearing her throat, “I assume it is well guarded. What is your plan to get in? Where do we start?”

Grakkar was silent for a moment, as he scowled at the city across the bay. He had been there once before, helping pick up the shattered pieces with his first mate, Neela - atonement for his siding with the Iron Horde, he helped them rebuild their harbor, gardens, and residential areas. None but Draenei themselves were allowed in the city center, though. That, he figured, was where they would have Sinafay locked away.

“... I know the city only so well. The outer areas. But I suspect Sinafay will be held in the inner city, beneath that shimmering dome.” he told Aelissah, pointing off to the city center. “We’ll be going in blind.”

The Orc sighed, looking to the Nightborne pensively. Truth was, he didn’t have much of a plan. It was hard to plan something like this; something so seemingly impossible. But they’d come this far… further than he imagined he could when he first arrived on Azeroth. They made it here, to the outskirts of Shattrath… where Sinafay was being held captive. But alive…

“... There is…” Grakkar paused, grunting. “... there is more you should know.”

Aelissah’s ears flickered, and she took her eyes off the Draenei city capital to look at Grakkar as he spoke. Her expression was hard to read, especially with her face partially masked away. Something in her stare, however, and the way her ears twitched, showed that she wasn’t all too pleased with their current predicament.

And then, he announced that there was something else?

The Nightborne moved away from the ledge, looking over the bay. She leaned back against the tree and stared at the orc. She was curious on what else could make their predicament worse.

“Go on.”

The Orc hesitated. It burned inside, not being completely up front about all this. He didn't pay it much thought, until Circadia brought up the additional detail of Sinafay being his mate. The moment of panic haunted him, making him realize the controversy of two Horde operatives going to save a Draenei.

But Sinafay was different than these other Draenei. She had honor. Grakkar eyed Aelissah, wondering… would she understand that? She would understand love, at least. He was certain of it from her story about her husband's fate.

“... We do not choose who we fall in love with, yeah?” he finally spoke, eyes meeting Aelissah's. “Sinafay and I worked together for a great many years before we fell in love. Together, we resisted the Draenei zealots, and worked to make sure Lightbound Orcs who had the sense to escape their enslavement had an avenue to safety.”

He nodded, shoulders back - he was proud of what they had accomplished.

“Something like that… would not be possible without someone on the inside, yeah? Like you, and your Dusklily Revolution.” he went on. “That is how we were able to free so many of my people. We had someone who could move freely through Draenei territory…”

Grakkar grunted, and shook his head - beating around the bush like this didn't sit well with him. He already felt deceitful enough as it was! No ambiguity, it was time to come clean. He cleared his throat, expression growing resolute.

“Sinafay is a Draenei, Lissah.” he stated, firmly. “I know Draenei, generally, are enemies - both here, and on Azeroth. But Sinafay resisted these oppressors, helped free scores of my people… and risked her life to give us a chance to escape to Azeroth.”

He nodded, gaze keeping level with Aelissah's as he watched for her reaction.

“She is exceptional.”

Aelissah’s right brow twitched at the revelation. It was the only indication for some time that she’d actually registered his words fully. So many thoughts were swirling through her head, so many replies she could give, but if she attempted, they would only come out jumbled.

She brought a finger up, indicating that she needed a minute, before beginning to pace, arms crossed over her chest. Her frustration was obvious in the frantic pace, the way her ears flickered, the deep frown on her features. Occasionally, she’d chuckle and give her head a shake, unable to believe that she was in this mess all because her orc friend fancied a member of the enemy faction. Not just an enemy on this world… but an enemy on Azeroth as well. Rescuing Sinafay meant they were bring an Alliance fighter back to Azeroth! They were committing treason!

She finally stopped pacing to face him, opening up her mouth to reply.

“Well… you are correct!” She couldn’t help but exclaim, “Exceptional… good word!”

She went back to pacing, but there was still much to say, “Y-you...heh. This could not be mentioned -before- we stepped through the portal of no return?”

She was suddenly very happy that SHE held the key to get back, and not Grakkar. In fact, she had a mind to leave him stranded right now for the situation he put her in! She frowned again. No… she wouldn’t do that…

“Circadia, you bitch.” She growled, realizing her friend probably knew of this long before she formed the portal. She chose not to tell Aelissah. Why? Did this Draenei play an important role in the battles to come. Would she be a useful informant to the Horde as she was for Grakkar’s people?

She sighed, hanging her head in defeat. She was angry. She was hurt. But they had already come so far.

“I hope…” she growled, “You or Circadia have a good plan as to how to bring her back to Azeroth without branding us all as traitors to the Horde.”

Elves were such quirky, twitchy creatures, Grakkar couldn’t help but think to himself. He watched how expressive Aelissah was - it almost made it so he could hear what she was thinking. None of it good… he expected that. His hesitancy to tell her seemed validated in that moment. He wasn’t happy about keeping it from her in the first place, but he couldn’t help but feel relieved at telling her now - despite the poor reception of the news.

“--I know… it was wrong of me to wait until now to tell you. Dishonorable, even. I’m… ashamed of myself.” Grakkar admitted, shoulders slumping. “You’ve helped me immensely so far, Lissah. I can never repay you for what you’ve done already. I understand if you don’t wish to risk your life any further… for an enemy.”

He rolled his shoulders, as he sheathed his axe. Grakkar turned back to the city, looking it over as the sun sank down further beyond the horizon. Shattrath was so bright, however, it was hard to tell night had fallen. Still, it was as good a time as any for infiltration - if this was going to happen, it needed to happen now. With a grunt, he nodded.

“I’ll go in alone.” he declared. “Give me until sunrise to find Sinafay and bring her back. If we don’t return by then… use that trinket Circadia gave you, and go back to Azeroth yourself, alright?”

The Orc shook his head, before looking back to Aelissah.

“I love Sinafay too much to let her suffer here. If I can’t spare her this fate… I’ll join her in it.”

Aelissah thinned her lips, hand moving over the pocket she’d safely stored to pocket watch away in. She could never understand the attraction some had for other races. She knew some of her own people had branched off to do the same. Her nose scrunched up at the thought. Disgusting.

To each their own. Still, Grakkar undoubtedly demonstrated his loved and trust towards this particular Draenei by coming all the way out here and risking it all for her. Even now, he was willing to finish the mission alone… to the risk of being left behind. It was admirable.

“Grakkar… wait,” she said as he turned to leave, “I cannot allow you to do this alone. I am upset, not heartless. I will not abandon you in the middle of this journey, my friend.”

She reached into a pouch, and pulled out a pair of crystals, handing one to Grakkar.

“Take this. These crystals hold an enchantment that have the ability to disguise us as one of their own. When the time comes, we will have to silently take out two guards, scan them with the crystal, and we will take on their appearance for one hour. Since the inner city is the most guarded, it is best if we activate them there. It will allow us to move about more freely.”

Grakkar’s hardened, determined expression softened some, as he reached out to take the crystal from Aelissah. Rather than pluck it from her hand, he took hold of hers - a rare moment of friendly physical contact. He gently gave her hand a light squeeze, as his eyes met hers.

“... Thank you.” he offered his gratitude, sincerely. “Truly. I vow on my honor - what’s left of it - that I will make this up to you somehow. Starting with ensuring you are not branded a traitor for this when we return. If that’s an issue when we return, I will claim full responsibility. You had no idea.”

As he finished speaking, he offered Aelissah a hopeful smile, squeezing her hand once more before he drew the crystal from it. He examined the stone, curiously - ‘fascinating’ he thought to himself. He remembered hearing something about the Nightborne and their knack for creating - and discerning - illusions. The Orc nodded once to Aelissah, as he slipped the crystal away in his pocket for later.

“Let’s get inside.” Grakkar grunted, wearing his purposeful expression once more. “We have a couple guards to impersonate, yeah? It’d be rude to keep them waiting…”

He flashed a brief smirk, as he turned back towards Shattrath. He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, before descending the hill. This was it - no turning back now! His heart beat faster, from excitement and fear both for the prospect of seeing his beloved Sinafay once again. Excitement to hold her in his arms again… fear for what sort of condition they might find her in.

If they find her…

~*~

((Co-written with @kidcatgemini / @aelissah / @sinafay-of-draenor ))

#Saving Sinafay #Grakkar #Aelissah #Gorgrond #character story

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xoxoendoh · 6 years ago

Text

Close to Lost

A leaf of cartography, an inkwell upturned… He’d stained the land, he’d blotted out the verdant life around him.

SasuSaku Month 2018, Day 4: Burn

A/N: No content warnings for this fic, and I apologize for being a whopping twenty-four days late! For whatever reason, this one took forever and a half.

Jukebox: "You Are the Moon" by The Hush Sound

FF.net link

Sakura had been wandering through the secluded training grounds, eyes downcast; her troubling ruminations as much to blame as the glare of the sinking sun. There was something about the place that kept her coming back, something reassuring.... Ever since the start of the chunin exams, she had been unable to quiet her mind. Sleepless nights strung together, wakeful worries interwove: she couldn’t shed the net tangled about her.

And through some frayed string of fate, she found the object of her rumination that evening. She caught him in a moment of weakness, shortly after he’d fallen to Sabaku no Gaara and the beast within him, a time near the cruel anniversary of his clan’s demise.

And he was sending up flares.

The gradual transition to twilight was the perfect showcase for his fireballs, their red flames churning upward to lick at the weary sun in spite, in envy.

They were her beacon, drawing her into the trees.

Under the canopy, the woods were dense and shadowy green—and just as they should be. Yet with every stride, the foliage grew more glaucous; the acerbic smell on the air strengthened, it burned…. And she began to hear the silence as she went deeper. There was nothing. No chirping, no scurrying. No cicadas humming their nightly crescendo, their exaltation of the rising moon. Not even cries warning of her intrusion. Just the sound of her footsteps and breath and the heavy quiet… Her instincts, however, beckoned her onward.

And all at once, she found his fury.

It could have been beautiful. Perhaps it was….

She saw downy dandelion parachutes suspended in spring; she saw windswept sakura petals, lilting and languid at the height of hanami….

Yet she knew she stood in summer. Her hands leapt to cover her mouth, her heart.

Fine motes cast a strange veil to compound the dusk. Tufts of ash drifted sedately, buoyant on the dense air; wispy embers, flickering orange and gold, floated along the heated murk. The incinerated terrain below hissed and sputtered in despairing protest.

A leaf of cartography, an inkwell upturned… He’d stained the land, he’d blotted out the verdant life around him.

The unfurling fumes thwarted her attempt at a calming breath, turning it into a muffled wheeze against her palm. Her fingers tightened at her collar, releasing the steam of perspiration; she shook her head, repelling the flecks as they sifted down. One footfall disturbed the chalk of the forest floor; the next created a small cloud. Uneven as they were, her steps took her through the ruin, the temperature climbing as the sun fell, until she stood a few feet away from the boy she loved. The origin of the blaze…

Her tiny frame trembled faintly in the wafting grey, in the orange glow of smoldering coals. She could feel the heat of his destruction radiating into her skin. And she knew she should look him in the eyes, but she couldn’t—not when his gaze had been so blank, so hollow only moments before…. He’d just stood there, among the scattered cinders and flames, the brittle charcoal, the blackened remnants of a vernal woodland. He could have been a child witnessing his first snowfall, dazed, unable to fathom it all. He hadn’t said a word. Perhaps he’d been unable.

"S-Sasuke-kun,” Sakura began hoarsely, sure in the need to break the silence, to tell him…yet so uncertain in the method, in the phrasing. “The day we became genin…” she trailed off, unable to deny her eyes the scene around him.

The burnt foliage above had come apart at the seams, falling so bright in the maturing darkness. Spores seeking to take root, nascent sparks popped and rocketed skyward to compete with those descending from the treetops. Flurrying and whirling, they clashed. Yet it was a futile rivalry, for even fire was failing: the last of the withering flames lusted after the unburnt traces at his feet; blindly, they reached and stretched and groped the scorched earth for virgin kindling to burn, to consume….

But there’s nothing left….

The notion tugged her from her odd reverie, sent a shiver to shake her spine. She’d seen enough. Sakura bit down on her lip. The grainy dust—the arid, acrid taste of smoke and wrath—lingered on her tongue as her lips parted.

The weight of her words and the pain in the memory sucked the remaining oxygen from the haze around her, forcing her to speak too quickly: “That day, you told me solitude is the worst sort of pain! I-I see it so clearly now, Sasuke-kun! I…” She felt weighted, so heavy. Her short hair shielded her face as she hung her head lower, eyes closed to the irritants and toxins around her. “I…” she tried again, in a whisper, “I didn’t back then, I had no idea…” Her voice was stronger: “But I think, maybe now, I understand what the pain of loneliness is. I have family and friends…but…”

She tentatively lifted her head to search for his eyes in the dim. She found them, dark and distant…and waiting. Hers shone and stung with tears to be—from the intensity of his regard; from the airborne debris in the sudden gust. The sparks floating around them flared and billowed on the wind. It whipped their hair; it reanimated the once-settled charred remnants…. Watching the displaced pall subside around her still feet, she waited for the words to come.

When they did, they were frail, fraught: “You feel so far away….”

Come back to me, hung unspoken.

Recovering herself, Sakura quietly cleared her throat and took a soft step forward. She kept her tone gentle, free of judgement: “It-it breaks my heart, Sasuke-kun, seeing you...like this.”

Eyes now keen, now wary on hers, he was still panting from the exertion of forging his own inferno. Singes dotted the skin around his mouth, where he’d exhaled fire. Like hers, his inky hair was dappled. Trickles of sweat streaked through the fine layer of grey on his face, stripping away the corruption, to reveal slivers of the boy she recognized, the boy she loved.

But as she examined the rest of him, she found myriad of scorch marks. He’d been reckless. His dominant arm hung forgotten at his side, the last vestiges of electricity convulsing through his fingers. So reckless...

She clenched the fabric of her dress; she felt her skin cool and prickle, felt the tiny hairs stand on end—like his current had somehow reached her.

Burning through your chakra like this—you could have killed yourself! You could have…

Despite the chill gripping her body, a drop of her own perspiration slid from her temple to her chin. The feeling, though slight, was enough to break her train of thought. For the briefest moment, she wondered what he saw in the vein of clarity it left on her…. She wondered if he could he see anything at all….

The droplet left her skin to disappear in the dust, and her mind centered. Somehow, she knew it was time for honesty. Somehow, she knew he needed to hear it:

“Because…you mean everything to me. Everything.”

The words had nearly caught in her throat, suspended like the ash in the sweltering air. I will not cry, she told herself. I won’t weep for him. He’s never wanted that, he never will—and he deserves more than my tears.

As tentative as it was instinctual, her hand reached out for his shoulder. Eyes flitting between his and her target, she braced for an adverse reaction upon the moment she made contact, she expected it. Though he stiffened, he didn’t swat her away or shrink back: he just stood there and allowed her featherlike touch; watching the dust settle to further mute her bright hair, questioning her with his dubious silence.

Her eyes rose from his shoulder to scrutinize the three black tomoe etched into his neck, as they so often did, and she silently cursed the Snake. Beyond the singes, the malicious, black mark was the only blemish on his body—the only visible manifestation of his suffering! Unless, of course, he set the coal of his eyes aflame…

And she’d seen the frightening power of both.

Is that what you were thinking, Sasuke-kun? ...Is that why you did this?

The fingers at the red of her collar clamped down, she moved to bite her lip again—but she stopped herself. She couldn’t give in to such a childish habit when she’d come this far, when he was listening. Determined, the verdure of her eyes returned to his.

“You don’t have to be alone, Sasuke-kun,” she spoke soothingly, careful to avoid a patronizing tone. “You’ll always have me.” As a shy smile formed around her last word, she felt blood rush to her flame-flushed cheeks. Sakura ignored the sensation and forced her lips to loosen: this wasn’t the time to give in to girlish whimsy; she’d make her body obey. She bent her elbow to step solicitously closer, close enough to smell the earthy scent she knew to be his through the miasma. One hand on him, the other on her heart, she swore: “Always.”

I love you so much…with all my heart, she thought, but I don’t think I can tell you that, not yet.

She gingerly traced his shoulder, nails collecting the fine, gritty precipitate there. She could feel the dexterity in the muscle, the power in the sinew…. And he didn’t flinch under her light touch, he didn’t avert his eyes. She moved nearer, preparing to see alarm or revulsion appear in his expression, until her forearm was flush against the length of his bicep, only a few inches of smoke separating the rest of them. She couldn't blink, she couldn't breathe for fear of dispelling the moment, her chance to reach him….

A branch snapped behind him; coils of red outlining its remaining leaves, faux fireflies swarming and twinkling in its wake. The fallen limb rippled through the powdery soot at the forest floor, sending it aloft once more.

Yet neither noticed, their senses entirely focused on the other.

Sakura was transfixed. She could see the suffering, the perpetual ache, the torment in the ink of his eyes—and it was dizzying. She’d known it was there, but she’d never seen its full extent…. She’d never seen it so close, so unconcealed. And just beneath, there was the acidic fury she’d tasted in the ashes. Tonight, his anger had burned too hot for his body to contain. The devastation around them, she realized, had been a momentary lapse in control, a flare of his temper. A mere glimmer of the roiling, lambent blaze inside him…

Hatred.

Its conflagration eclipsed the flicker of him that existed beyond loathing and vengeance—the flicker the Snake had tried to snuff out, the flicker she’d managed to sustain when his darkness burned black through his skin. She saw it so clearly then, for in that moment, he was living only for the past, only for the promise of retribution….

But they both knew the inevitability in fire….

One tear escaped to flow down her face: she could feel desperation coming on the night.

...They’d known it long before witnessing the aftermath of his arson.

Ignoring the shriek of warning she heard in the back of her mind, she stood on pointed toes and flung her arms around him. The impact of her embrace released a plume of ash to envelop them. She pressed her face to his neck, her lithe body to his, the muck on his skin coloring hers.

“I won’t let you be alone anymore,” she promised in a murmur to his ear, eyes shut to the despair around them. “Never again.”

She waited, stunned at her own audacity.

His heart thudded into hers; his chest expanded as he inhaled. The blue-black fringe at his nape stroked her forehead.

The last traces of tree sap crackled and bubbled in the dimming embers, crystalizing as the surviving coals waned to a low gleam….

Her eyes flew open, dilating in panic, in the umbrage: she felt the muscles in his hanging arms spasm and contract, considering motion. But she didn’t dare let go—not when he felt so close to lost.

So, eyes agape, she froze, not risking a breath….

Over his shoulder, she could see the world turn to shadow as the sun finally vanished. At last unobscured, sweet silver streamed down to mottle the earth, to temper the remaining hues of red and orange and yellow. The shimmering perigee of moonrise... The beginnings of a familiar nocturne hailed its coming: the warble of a songbird announced its proximity; insects revved and stammered, grappling toward their usual thrum; an owl called out, wistful and clear.

And then—haltingly, devoid of his usual grace—he bowed his head until his cheek rested on her hair.

Unsure if she was imagining it, afraid to dissolve the mirage, she held her gasp in her chest.

She felt the low rumble of his voice before she heard it, smoky on the clearing air:

“Sakura… Thank you…”

His breath, his words were soft on her skin…. They were warm.

So, what do you think? I'm still feeling so rusty when it comes to writing, particularly something like this…. Spent so much time second-guessing myself and nitpicking, and I really hope I got it right. Believe it or not, this actually has a Part II. PII was meant for Day 8: Flowers...but it will be a while before I get around to it!

And a huge shout out to @thepiestperson! Thank you for all your help with this lil' ficlet—you're a doll! Not sure when I would have finished this one without your input and encouragement. :)

My other SSM18 submissions:

☀ No content warning: Gravitation, Day 2: Side by Side

☾ Barely NSFW, then very NSFW:

Umbra, Day 11: Eclipse | The Cherry Wood Armoire, Day 31: Free

If you’re interested, you can read my other SasuSaku and ItaSaku work on FF.net.

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