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artificialqueens · 3 years

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Gimme Love, 1/9 (Miz Cracker/Blair St Clair) - Grinder

AN: Welp! I started this back in March. It was supposed to be a oneshot and then I realised it was 200 odd pages. Whoops! Another songfic based on music by Joji. This one is Gimme Love, which some of you would probably know, it was circling TikTok for a while. Anyway, more song fics to come!! I hope y'all enjoy! Stay safe in these crazy times!

TW: Mental health, panic attacks

1993

"OK, so you got your apple juice, your finger sandwiches, and grapes. And most importantly, you got your best outfit on. Ready?"

No. I wasn't ready. They were going to eat me up. I knew just by how the 3 bitches off to the side stared and laughed. One of them was swinging from the bus stop pole. It sounded evil, but I hoped she would have fallen over.

"No." I clung to my Mother.

"Brianna." She uttered. She was tired, already having dealt with this before leaving the house. And it didn't help that Grandpa only laughed instead of helping out.

"No!" I said louder, squeezing my tiny fists into her shoulders.

"Look. Everything will be fine. The day will fly in, trust me. And I'll be right here when you get off the bus later." Mom continued.

She gave me a kiss on the forehead and shook me off.

As she smoothed her skirt down, I stamped my foot in a huff. For me, this was the second most ultimate betrayal that had ever happened to me. My Mom was making me go to school. How dare she.

"I love you, girl. Be good and have a great day." Mom said before walking away. My gaze followed, feeling the faucet in my eyes turn on. I was prone to cry baby behaviour around this age.

Now that my Mom was gone, it was all game for the bitches.

"Awww, the little baby needs her Mommy." One of them cooed in her fake voice. "Didn't you know the pre-school bus picks up two hours later?"

"Yeah!" Another decided to join in, "And I bet that's not even your real Mommy."

"She is too!" I clenched my tiny fists at my side. This was half true. I was an adopted child, but to me, Roberta was the best Mother I could have ever asked for. And no one had the right to question that.

"No, she's not! Your real Mommy didn't want you 'cause you're ugly!"

"Yeah, look at your hair. It looks like a fur ball."

"And your clothes are obviously hand me downs."

I stamped my feet again. "That's it! I'm giving you the finger!" I flipped them off. I picked it up from Mom, from the many time's drivers pissed her off. When she'd warn me never to do that, I knew it had some sort of power to it.

But it did nothing. The girls just laughed even more. I had no defences; therefore, I was left helpless.

The bus pulled up, and I was last to get in. The girls warned almost everybody to watch out for the "girl with the weird hair".

I moved down the middle of the bus, my head moving from side to side, hoping to find a seat.

Everybody with a free seat either put their bags on the chairs or put their feet up. I wanted to snap, demanding that they let me sit. But the fear inside rendered me silent.

I was nearing the back, where the 3 girls sat. They smirked upon seeing my face, relishing in the fact I was on the verge of tears. All I wanted was to turn back, get off the bus and lock myself in my house.

But as if someone above heard my innermost thoughts, that's when I heard it.

"Do you need a seat?"

I looked towards the voice. And I froze. There she was, an absolute angel. She looked like a Disney Princess with her bright blonde hair and blue eyes.

I hesitated for a moment. But the bus began to move. So I sat down next to her.

"Hi," I said.

"Hey." Her eyes were observing me, looking me up and down. And I felt even more stunned. "You have funny hair."

"My Mommy says I have lovely hair," I replied in defence.

"I didn't mean it in a bad way. I just never seen hair like that." The girl replied.

My hair wasn't even bad. I just had a massive head of untamed brown curls. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Then again, I had never seen anyone with hair like hers. She looked like she had gone to a salon beforehand. "Your hair looks golden."

"Thank you." She smiled. "I'm Blair. My favourite colour is yellow, and I wanna be a singer when I grow up. How about you?"

"I'm Brianna. My favourite colour is pink. And...I wanna be a politician someday."

"What's a pola...polatichon?" Blair asked.

"A politician." I corrected her. "I don't know what they do. They just shout a lot. And that's what I want to do."

Blair had no idea what I was talking about, but she laughed anyway. And that made my heart skip a beat.

I felt something pelt the back of my head. I grabbed it, looking at the small rolled up bit of my paper in my hand. It was wet. I had just been spitballed for the first time.

Blair looked over her shoulder, and I did the same. It was the three bitches from the bus stop. They weren't even hiding their giggles.

"Not nice." Blair stuck her tongue out at them. Then, turning back around in her seat, she put her hand on mine. "Don't worry about them. I'm your friend, Brianna."

"Really?" My eyes brightened.

"Of course!"

As much as that statement had made my heart soar, how it made me feel like there was nothing to be afraid of…

It was the biggest lie I heard that day.

As soon as I got off the bus at the end of the day, I waved to Blair, unaware that she would be sitting with the 3 bitches the next day.

And then it went on for years, being that ugly girl with weird hair. And it didn't help that I needed glasses later in life.

But I wasn't completely alone. So let me tell you about Jujubee.

2020

"Hey, asshole! I'm pulling in there!"

Jujubee was hanging out the driver side window, flicking the indicator aggressively.

"Juju, can you just...not do that?" I asked, my eyes glued to my phone as I checked how many people had seen my Instagram story. It was a picture of the two of us, showing off our outfits that had been gifted from Alexander McQueen.

"And let that asshole steal my spot? Absolutely not." Jujubee protested. She flipped the guy off, only to receive the same gesture back at her. She wasn't prone to behaving like this. I usually found it absolutely hilarious how loud she could be.

Now, you're probably wondering - two well-dressed ladies in their Alexander McQueen outfits should be seated in the back of a limo, sipping champagne.

I wasn't a fan of limos. They only drew attention.

And with Jujubee hurling dog abuse at the other drivers, I was sure the attention would be on us.

But we made it to the event without any trouble.

Jujubee was hilarious, intentionally and unintentionally. I learned that all the way back on my second day of school. When it was clear to me that I wouldn't be friends with anyone else, I ventured off on my own, exploring the playground and looking for bugs. But, instead, I found her sitting alone in the sandbox.

"Leave me alone. I'm trying to dig to the centre of the Earth." She had said, blowing her shiny black hair out of her face.

I knew she would only reach the bottom of the pit, so I laughed, and I helped her dig. We had been inseparable since.

We grew up together, all the way through elementary, high school and college. And through those years, we had one thing in common - we were the weird ones. The kids who everyone bullied.

Ugh, I hated that word; bullied. It made me feel pathetic and helpless. Jujubee and I, however? We were far from pathetic and helpless. After all, how would we even be where we were if that was the case?

OK, maybe I was pathetic and helpless growing up. No, I was. I had just accepted all the name-calling, the shoving, the damage. Jujubee, on the other hand, would fight against it all.

But back to the current situation. We were now sitting at a table with the other project workers. Everyone was having a great time, and the event hadn't even really begun yet. They passed jokes around, talked about trials and tribulations, and I laughed along.

But I may as well have been alone as I was stuck in my own thoughts. How it was even possible, we were all gathered here for this moment.

I looked at Jujubee, sitting next to me, and felt an overwhelming need to hug the shit out of her. If it weren't for her being so encouraging, then maybe this wouldn't have happened.

"What's up?" She caught me staring.

I lowered my head for a moment, breathing a laugh out through my nostrils. I didn't want to get sappy with her, even though she deserved my gratitude. My best friend, my ride-or-die bitch. Lifting my head again, I smirked. "Nothing. I'm just glad you're on this team." I raised my glass to her before sipping the bubbling champagne.

"Proud of you bitch." Jujubee reaching over and squeezed my free hand.

I was proud of me too. Because, despite all of the shit I dealt with in school, here I was, the manager and director of this whole operation.

All of the hard work paid off - years of trials and tribulations, so many arguments and disagreements. We finally did it. We found a gateway to another world, a parallel universe, a portal in the middle of the space just waiting to be explored.

Of course, people doubted me. They said things like, "Well, it is a dream, all right." How could anyone blame them?

But here we were.

The speaker, Michelle, called me up onto the stage to receive a certificate, all encased in a glass frame. I exchanged air kisses with her and graciously took the award. Jujubee cheered me on as I stood up there, letting people take pictures.

And then came the obligatory speech.

I couldn't lie; I hated public speaking. It was always something I struggled with. But, I never backed down from one. I just liked to keep them short and sweet.

"Long story short, I had dreams, and I worked towards them. So, here I am, an example of the walking embodiment of success. And I thank each and every one of you, ladies and gentlemen. Have a great night."

Short and sweet. The crowd applauded.

Yes, I was told in the past that I'm arrogant, but I disagreed. I'd say confident. And there was nothing wrong with confidence. After all, there has been a stigma around that word. Doesn't it come from a sense of insecurity, the need to tear successful people down because you're afraid to strive towards your goals?

I deserved to feel this successful, for all those times I was laughed at and ridiculed. I look down on all those assholes and let them know that I made it.

I posed for pictures as I held my award, knowing they would be everywhere the next day; in the papers, magazines, the Internet.

This wasn't the first award I had received. I had a shelf full back home, along with all of my past badges. They reminded me that, once upon a time, I was just any other office worker with her yellow badge. And now here I was, the director of the project with my black badge working closely with the government.

I got off the stage and moved back to my chair. Jujubee rolled her eyes, but her smile remained.

"Where's the after-party?" I asked as the audience shifted their attention from me.

Sometimes I never understood how she put up with me. "Don't worry. I got us covered."

She wasn't lying. A few hours later, we were in the apartment of some other rich somebody. Music was bouncing off the walls, the speakers apparently on full blast.

The main lights were out, replaced with multicoloured LEDs dancing around the place. It was as if we were in our own private club.

Jujubee and I were in the crowd dancing, but because I was absolutely wasted, I lost her many times.

No need to panic, however. Jujubee wasn't a drinker. So she'd find me. She always did.

I really did feel sorry that she had to deal with all of my shenanigans.

"Juju, where the fuck are you??" I roared, not that it would do much. Midsummer Madness by 88RISING was blaring now. Starting to stress out now.

I grabbed a champagne flute as a waiter walked by.

"Brianna, I love the dress." A woman leaned over and shouted in my ear. I had met her before at another event, a fashion reporter if I remembered correctly.

"Thanks. It's Versaci."

As I said earlier, it was fucking Alexander McQueen. I was faded.

Somehow I ended up in the bathroom, throwing up all the alcohol I had consumed into the toilet. After I finished, I washed my mouth out, looked at my reflection and said, "Baby, you're a star."

And somehow, I made it back downstairs. I was searching for Jujubee but found someone else instead. And it was fucking Ed Sheeran.

"I love your new song." I lied.

"Which one?"

"The new one." I smiled. "Hey, Ed. You wanna be the first person to go through the portal?" I wrapped an arm around him.

He looked absolutely taken aback. "Of fucking course. My manager will be in touch."

I really hoped he was joking. Why the fuck had I even suggested it?

I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Jujubee. My nerves settled, and I leaned closer to her. "Let's go outside."

I had no recollection of making it out to the balcony. The only thing I remembered happening before then was rambling to many strangers about how much I adored Jujubee.

A few other party attendees were outside too. I wanted to tell them how I didn't deserve Jujubee and that she was an angel. But she quickly steered me away.

I looked out over the city, a happy smile on my face.

"Are you having fun, baby girl?" Jujubee asked, using her favourite pet name for me. She sparked up a cigarette. I wanted to ask her for one, having gone from chain smoker to social smoker in recent years. But I was too distracted by the view.

"Yeah. I can feel it, Juju." I replied, looking at my hands. It was almost like I could actually feel it. The euphoric feeling of success running in my veins. "Good things are coming."

"Oh, I feel it too." Jujubee blew out the smoke and followed my gaze. "You know what? Your Grandpa was a great guy. And I know that he's proud of you."

My smile dropped. And I was silent.

I preferred to avoid speaking about things like this. Emotions weren't something I liked to deal with - another difference between Jujubee and me.

Just the year prior, we both went to see Midsommar. During the scene where the main character is having a breakdown on the ground surrounded by the Hargan woman screaming along with her, Jujubee was captivated. She looked almost like she wanted to scream along with them. And as she squeezed my hand and leaned over to me, she said, "I need someone to do that with me." I replied with a quiet, "Can't relate."

I'm not insensitive. I just feared emotions for two reasons.

1. They could be weaponised against me. And as much as I tried not to let the online hate get to me, I knew that if it ever became personal, then it would hit difficult.

2. The most important reason of all; a childhood full of breakdowns and too many emotions.

Jujubee nudged me. "You wanna go?"

I didn't want to. But I said, "Yeah. I'm...so drunk right now," and turned away from the city view.

"Can I be that annoying whore and ask if I can stay at your place?" Jujubee asked, taking my hand.

She didn't even need a reason. "Yes, you can."

We waded our way through the crowd, made for the door and left. And before I knew it, we were back at my place, lying in my bed. I loaned her a t-shirt to sleep in. I wanted to sleep in my Alexander McQueen. But Jujubee wouldn't let me.

We both lay there, facing the ceiling. I could already feel the oncoming suffering. Usually, I loved moments like these, when time became fluid, when I didn't have to worry about how I had even gotten home.

But my head was pounding, and the loud ringing in my ears was the cause. If I was bad now, I'd be dead by morning.

I could feel Jujubee's eyes on me, and I looked back at her. She was smiling, her brown eyes glimmering. "Almost there, girl."

Despite the pain I was in, I smiled back. I knew this whole thing, the thingy, the portal; it wasn't just my dream. It was hers too.

Fuck, I was hammered.

"Almost there," was all I could manage to say.

Jujubee turned on her side and treated me to some cuddly spooning. "OK, go to sleep, loser."

It was straining on my neck, but I kept my head turned, letting my eyes linger for a moment longer. God, I fucking loved that bitch. Nothing was ever going to come between us, and that made me the happiest.

I turned over, my back relaxing against her torso. Then, before giving in to my exhaustion, I checked my phone. The bright light made me squint at first. And the alcohol in my system didn't help matters.

I checked how many people had seen my story now. The number was blurry. So I aimlessly swiped notifications away.

But I stopped at one message in particular.

Blair: Hey Brianna! Long time no speak. I just wanted to say I saw pictures from your thing tonight. Congrats, girl! Look, I know you're probably super busy, but I'd love to have a catch up with you sometime.

"..." My eyes were wide. Now that was a name I hadn't heard in a long time.

1995

"Do you see Cassiopeia yet?" Juju whined.

I was trying my hardest to find it in the telescope. But the stars were all in clutters; there were so many. "No. I think I see the big dipper, though."

"Really? Let me have a turn!" Juju begged.

I pulled away from the telescope, allowing Juju her turn. Usually, I would have refused, only letting her use the scope after finding what I was looking for.

I really hadn't found the big dipper, but Juju bought it. "Wooooow. That's so cool."

"I know, right?" I smirked.

The backdoor opened, and Grandpa came out in his winter jacket, pj's and his signature slippers. "How many have you girls found now?"

He was carrying two mugs of hot chocolate with whipped cream. I cheered excitedly because Grandpa's hot chocolate was the best, and I'd fight anyone who tried to tell me otherwise.

"We found the big dipper. But that's it." Juju replied, sounding very much let down.

"Don't lose hope," Grandpa gave us our hot chocolate, "some are harder to find than others. I bet there are a lot more constellations out there that haven't even been discovered yet."

I sipped the hot drink, and I could feel it already warming me up. I was so tempted to take my gloves off and let the mug warm them up. But we promised my Mom we would stay wrapped up. "Do you think we could discover one?"

Grandpa took a seat on one of the old deck chairs. "Brianna, you can do anything you set your mind to. Anything is possible."

"One day, I wanna get into a rocket ship and fly away," I said, looking up at the night sky, imagining the scene in my head.

"Hey, Mr Caldwell, are there other people like us? Just looking up at the sky?" Juju asked, taking a sip of her hot chocolate.

"That's an interesting question. I'd say yes, what with how nice the sky is tonight," Grandpa let his gaze trail up, the stars reflecting in his eyes, "But did you know, somewhere far, far away, there are two little girls who are exactly like you. They look the same, they talk the same and even have your names. And they are doing exactly what you're doing right now."

My brows knit in confusion, "what do you mean 'far far away?"

Grandpa looked down again, seeing how intrigued Juju and I was. "Let's just call it the other world. It's basically like our world, but...certain things are different. Like," he paused to think, "maybe cats bark and dogs meow. Or, maybe the sky is pink and not blue. Maybe you girls are actually older, and I'm the young one."

"Do horseys fly in the other world?" Juju asked with much optimism.

"Probably. I don't see why not." Grandpa shrugged.

I glanced up at the sky as if I would somehow just see it. Another world where life was somewhat better.

"Would my Mommy and Daddy have given me up in the other world?" I asked quietly.

Grandpa was silent. His lips were pursed, forming a tight line like there were words on the tip of his tongue that he knew he shouldn't say.

Juju hugged me from the side. I wanted to hug her back but didn't want to cry.

Her hold made me feel safe, so I offered her a half-smile.

Since my first day at school, when those cretins had tried to tell me Roberta wasn't my real Mom, it stuck with me. Yeah, I knew deep down those girls didn't know shit, and Roberta was the best Mother in the world, but I was only human.

As much as I loved my Mom, Grandpa and other family members, I just wanted to feel acceptance from my biological parents.

"Brianna, honey, whoever your family is in the other world, I'm sure they love you from the bottom of their hearts. Just like we do." Grandpa said. He extended his arms out, offering me a hug.

I didn't want it. But I knew I needed it.

That night, we didn't find any constellations. Not that it mattered. After my Grandpa went back inside, Juju and I were set on finding the other world instead.

And this interest went on for nearly a whole year.

It sounded dumb, but we would play games where we were our 'other world selves'. Juju lived in a house full of cats, and they were 'cutest cats in the whole country. So cute they won every pageant!'

And I lived in a huge mansion with my Mom, Grandpa, and my biological parents.

We collectively agreed that our other world selves were the prettiest girls in school, and we had tons of friends. We were so cool, we didn't even have to go to school.

Of course, this started a minor argument between us. Juju would always say, "how can we be the prettiest girls at school if we don't have to go to school??"

"Shut up, Juju! Anything is possible in the other world!"

"Yeah, but it doesn't make sense!"

All of it was so ridiculous. But we loved every minute of it.

I'll never forget the time we built a fort in the woods at the back of my house, and Juju stood under the archway and shouted. "I'm the queen of 'Other World'. Beware ye bastards who enter our domain!"

Then she got upset because she said a bad word and thought she had betrayed her parents.

A few minutes later, I fucked up.

"I, Brianna Caldwell, am the Queen of 'Other World'. I sit on this throne along with my best friend, Blair St Clair!"

Juju was even more upset now.

"Why is she your best friend?? I'm your best friend!" She began to cry.

"Jujubee, it's only pretend." I tried to reason with her.

"No, Brie-Brie. You're always talking about Blair! I know you would rather be best friends with her than me!"

"That's not true!"

"It is!" She wept. "She'll never be your friend, Brie-Brie. She doesn't even like you."

"Take that back!"

"No!"

My anger was bubbling beyond the boiling point. So I shoved her over. "Go away. Now!"

Juju ran off crying.

My teeth were grit, my fists clenched. For about 5 minutes, I stormed around the fort, screaming in anger and kicking the ground.

Mom was freaked out. She knew it was me screaming, so she came running. When she found me, she shouted at me for scaring the absolute fuck out of her.

This only pissed me off more. It took her 5 minutes to get me to chill out.

When I finally explained what happened, she told me it was OK and that we'd be friends again the next day.

It didn't help my mood, so she took me to the mall. It was a rare occasion for us to visit the place. We weren't the richest, what with Mom struggling to keep a job. She wasn't a lousy worker; someone else would just come along who was much more experienced. And without another parental figure to help out, it just meant not much money was being brought into the house.

But Mom decided we'd go to the toy store, and I'd find two dolls, one for me and one for Juju. I made sure they looked exactly like us. Well, considering the nice clothes and great hair, they were our other-selves.

And leaving the building, I was perched on Mom's shoulders, eating the biggest ice cream cone I had ever gotten, when I looked over at the jewellery shop. Two women were leaving the store, holding hands. They leaned in close to each other and kissed.

I just...stared as they smiled at each other, mesmerised by the adoration they so clearly shared.

"Mommy?"

"Yes, Brianna, baby?"

"Why are those two ladies kissing?"

Mom cast a quick glance to where I was looking. "Oh. OK, first of all, don't stare. It's rude. But yeah, they're just two ladies in love with each other. That's all."

I looked away, just as she told me to do. "They're in love? I thought only boys and girls could be in love."

"I guess they're still telling you that in school, huh?" Mom quipped. "Well, I'll tell you this, but keep it on the down-low 'cause I don't want no parents coming and knocking on my door saying you're putting ideas into their kids' heads." She laughed. "The truth is; boys can fall in love with boys, and girls can fall in love with girls. You fall in love with whoever your heart tells you to, Brianna."

I nodded. "Uh, huh. OK, I understand." But then, it hit me. "Fuck."

"Brianna." Mom warned. She knew I was prone to sometimes spurting a few cuss words. But she only had herself to blame.

"Sorry, Mommy." And as we left the mall, my brain couldn't stop thinking about what had popped into my head.

Maybe, just maybe, I was in love with Blair.

My mind was taking me back to years prior, still in my first year of elementary school. It was coming up to Valentine's Day, and we all had to make a card for someone in the class. Bit of a weird activity for a bunch of kids who were more concerned if they were getting bikes for Christmas or not.

And I slaved over my card, making it yellow instead of the traditional pink colour, and drawing daisies all over it.

The message read, "You really deserve this. You're welcome." I've always been a poetic genius.

And instead of giving it to any of the boys, I insisted it went to Blair.

I had vague memories of that day. I only remembered her confused face as I handed it over.

I never received a card in return.

Of course, the other kids picked on me for it. But Juju had my back.

"You're all just jealous 'cause Brie-Brie's card is unique!" I remember her shouting.

But of course, they weren't jealous. This concept was foreign to them - a girl gifting another girl with a Valentine's Day gift. But then again, they just didn't know any better.

#rpdr fanfiction #s10 #miz cracker #jujubee #blair st clair #blair x cracker #fluff #coming of age #hurt/comfort #lesbian au #gimme love #grinder #concrit welcome #tw panic attacks #tw mental health issues

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jacksonxschuester · 4 years

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I Owe You a Painting || Jacksher

Date: September 20th, 2020 Who: Jackson and Asher @asherkarofsky Description: Jackson delivers the painting he did for Asher, as a thank you for the easel Asher made for Jackson, which was a thank you for... you get the point. Jackson then helps Asher make his suite feel a little more like home Note: Not finished, but it’s cute and I want it on the dash.

Jackson had actually finished the painting a few days ago, but he'd gotten ambitious and decided to try oil paints for this piece, and he'd wanted to give it lots of time to dry before delivering it. Taking inspiration from some Bob Ross episodes, he'd created a sweeping prairie landscape with a duck pond and a farm house. There were a few trees and bushes and flowers, but plenty of open blue sky and a worn, homely feel to the house. He'd painted it on a 18" x 24" canvas and had signed his name in the bottom corner. Overall, he was pretty proud of how it turned out, but he was still a little nervous about Asher's reaction to it as he stood outside the Dom's door and knocked. He hoped it would be well recieved.

Everyone had told him he would settle in and get more things and that the giant suite wouldn't feel so giant anymore. That had not happened yet. Mostly he ate in the cafeteria and spent any time out of classes in bed sleeping. Today he'd decided to do some whittling in his suite since the workshop didn't have the light he needed. There were small curls of wood on the kitchen bar where he was working. He'd just put the small creature on the bar top to look at when there was a knock on the door. He opened it wondering who would be coming to see him. He was happy to see that it was Jackson. He just didn't know what to say. "Hi." He even waved before feeling awkward and letting his hand drop. "Oh... oh come in."

Jackson forced a smile onto his face when he saw Asher. "Hi." He greeted, and stepped in when he was invited. He stood awkwardly for a moment, and then remembered the reason for his visit. "I um... I finished it." He said, turning the painting around in his hands for Asher to see. "It's my first attempt with oil paintings, so it's not perfect, but I hope you like it and even if you don't it's okay because I can always try to do a better one..." He rambled.

Asher hadn't expected to get the painting yet. Surely Jackson had so much other more important things than him, but here it was right in front of him. He didn't know what he'd been expecting, but the painting was perfect. "It... it's perfect. It's exactly like the place I dream of having some day. Like that's exactly it." He reached out for the painting but hesitated. "Can I... Is it okay to hold it?"

Jackson's expression shifted into a softer, more genuine smile as Asher took in the painting. He was relieved that the Dom seemed to like it. "Yeah, it's totally dry, you can hold it." He assured. "You really do like it?" He asked, seeking confirmation and reassurance.

"Like it? No. I love it." He carefully took the painting in his hands walking closer to the large living room window to see it in the light. "How did you know this was exactly what I saw in my head? I have this dream... kind of dumb I know, but I'd love to own a place like this someday. A place to call my own, you know?"

"I didn't know." Jackson shrugged. "I just ran with the idea you gave me and this is what came out. It does look like a nice place to live though. Peaceful..." His smile turned sad as he realized he'd never even given any thought to the type of house he'd like to have someday. Not since Steven had passed, anyway. "I hope you get to have a place like this in the future, Sir."

"Yeah peaceful." He turned to the other man. "I hope so. Gotta be careful with dreams though." He hated that he couldn't just be one of those hopeful, optimistic people. He blames his parents for ruining that for him. "Will you help me figure out the best place to hang it." He looked around at the suite. It was very.... white. The painting would start to make this place feel a little like home.

Jackson nodded, "Of course I'll help." He said, glossing right over the bit about being careful with dreams. He'd given up having any sort of dream himself. He didn't want to bring Asher down by talking about that. "What about that wall there?" He pointed to one of the walls in the living room. It was opposite the couch, so that you could see it if you were sitting there, and the shape and size of the canvas was very appropriate to the size of wall it was

He nodded. He realized instantly that if he was on the couch he'd be able to see it and also it there it would be visible as soon as he walked in the door. "Here hold it. I'll get my tools." He went to the kitchen bar, but stopped and turned back to look at Jackson. "Thank you. Thank you for this." He grabbed his tools and walked back over. Gesturing around the suite, he laughed. "As you can see I'm not so good at, decorating. Personalizing." That was the better word. He didn't need 'decorating' but he did sort of crave personalization in his life.

Jackson waited patiently while Asher grabbed his tools, and upon observation he found that Asher's statement was accurate. There weren't a lot of personal touches around the place, except for the pile of wood shavings and some sort of carving on the counter. Jackson assumed that's what he'd been working on when he arrived, but now that he knew the wood shavings were there he was itching to sweep them up and put them out of sight. "I could help you with that, if you like?" He offered suddenly, unsure of exactly way. Maybe he just needed to feel like he was useful, needed by someone.

Ash was pulling out his small hammer and some finishing nails that should do the job to hold up the painting when Jackson spoke again. "Hmm? Oh.. oh really? You'd do that?" He looked around again. "Don't even know where to start." He shrugged and kept his gaze down on the hammer in his hands that he was spinning around. "Used to have a little picture of me an' Silas and Dave as kids, but I lost it." It had been the only thing he'd had to remind him of his family. And losing it was the very last time he ever cried.

Jackson nodded. "Yeah, I don't mind." He said. "Is there a way to find a copy of that picture, maybe? Would Silas or Dave have a copy?" He asked, already planning on asking Silas for any photos of Asher as a kid to frame. "We could also paint the walls to whatever colours you like, and add things related to stuff you like." He motioned over to the carving on the counter. "Do you do a lot of that sort of thing? You could display your work on your bookshelves and such.

"Don't know. Maybe Dave. Si kind of left in a hurry. Don't think our folks let him bring much when he came here." He frowned. "They won't mind me paintin'?" He been worried about the holes he was about to put in the wall and already had a plan on how he'd repair those when the time came. He laughed and smiled at Jackson. "Don't if they're as good as all that, but might be nice to look at 'em." He looked over at the creature on the bar. He found a lot of happiness in making them even as silly as they were.

Jackson made a note to check with Dave, also. Just in case. "They don't mind paint and things like hanging pictures or hooks or decor, they just don't want anyone doing extensive damage that'll cost a lot to repair or render the suite unusable for any period of time." He informed, remembering one incident when he was a teenager that his father got very heated about. "One time a student knocked out a couple of walls to combine all the bedrooms together. My father was not pleased. That was way before I came here, though." Curious, Jackson made his way over to the counter. "Give yourself a little credit, not everyone can carve things out of wood like this. I'm sure they're..." He trailed off when he saw what the little creature was. A tiny bird sat on the countertop near the pile of shavings, and Jackson felt his heart jump into his throat. "... great." He finished his sentence, carefully picking up the carving and examining it closer. The word pajarito played over and over in his head in Mateo's voice, 'little bird' it meant. The tears were stinging at his eyes despite his valiant effort to make them stop.

Asher's eyes went wide. Knocking down the walls was a huge undertaking and could actually be downright dangerous. Generally with a large building like this the load bearing walls were all around the outside, but still. "I don't even use the space I have. Can't imagine needing more. "They aren't too hard. Learned when I was a boy. They do..." He noticed that Jackson had stopped talking and that he had tears in his eyes. "Sugar, are you okay?" He dipped his head to get in between the other man and the small wooden bird taking shape out of the wood.

Jackson took in a shuddering breath and tried very hard to steady his emotions. "Fine. I'm fine." He insisted, despite it not being true in the slightest. "It's nothing. It's a stupid thing, actually." He rambled. "Little bird is the nickname Sir Mateo gave me, that's all." He said, knowing Asher would want an explanation, but Jackson felt really stupid for such a small thing affecting him this much. Sometimes it hit him like a sack of bricks, the magnitude of losing yet another Dom, and in those moments Jackson found it really hard to breathe.

Asher didn't hesitate for a moment. He snatched the bird off the counter and shoved it in his pocket. "It's not stupid." He obviously had no idea of this reaction when he decided to carve a bird, but he hated that it had caused him to remember this pain. "I'm sorry."

Jackson shook his head. "It is stupid. And it's not your fault." He insisted, and then his hands where against his arms, fingernails digging into his skin. He hated how fragile he was. He took a few steps away and took a breath, "I'm sorry..."

Asher didn't want to argue but he didn't think it was stupid at all. He'd never been in love before and he couldn't image having it and losing it. That whole 'better to have and lost' seemed like bullshit to him. He stayed quiet for a while and then spoke in a quiet voice. "Wanna get this painting up and then help me pick out my next carving should be?"

Jackson could feel his skin start to break under his fingernails, and the sharp pain brought him a brief moment of respite from the mental pain. He heard Asher speak and for a moment, he wasn't sure what the Dom had said. He turned, wiping at his eyes. "Maybe I should just go?" He asked, not wanting to further bring Asher's mood down.

Ash saw the way Jackson's body was stiff Nd he was scratching roughly at his arm. It must have hurt the way he was pressing in. "I really like having you here, but don't wanna make you stay if you're feelin' uncomfortable." He rubbed at the back of his neck. "Can I walk you home? Make sure you're safe."

Safe. The word rung hollow in Jackson's ears. Sure, he might be away from any immediate harm, but safe? Could he really count himself as safe until he was claimed? Mateo had promised him safety... he had promised to do whatever it took to include Jackson in his family, but when the time came it turned out there was a line he wouldn't even consider crossing. Jackson realized it had been a minute or two since Asher had spoken, and he still hadn't replied. "Um... I... I'll stay if you want. You needed help, right? I can help. I can be useful." The words were mostly spilling from his mouth as they came into his head, no filter in between to remind him what was socially appropriate and what was not.

Ash wished he was his brother in this moment. Silas would have the words to comfort Jackson. But he just waited. "You've been so damn helpful to me Jackson. I gotta tell you, don't really got friends." He shrugged. "You're probably not supposed to decide this one sided, but you're my best friend Jackson. Don't know what I woulda done here without you. So yeah, if you want to stay, I could use your help." He didn't know if that meant Jackson was useful, but it damn well did mean he was needed. Asher really needed him.

Jackson felt himself tear up again. Asher considered him his best friend? It felt good, but it also made him feel a little guilty. Should he be putting more into this friendship than he has been? Asher really must not have had many friends if he considered Jackson to be the best one... He wiped at his eyes again and just nodded. "Okay... I'll stay." He said softly. "Tell me what you need me to do, Sir."

Ash smiled. He felt like he'd maybe unwittingly manipulated Jackson to stay, but it was hard to muster any guilt over that. For whatever reason, he just felt like his friend belonged right there for the time being. The suite felt like something more than a place to rest from time to time when he was there. "Let me just tap a nail in here." He did just that and then hung the painting up before looking over at Jackson. "So is it straight?"

Jackson just watched as Asher hammered in the nail and hung the painting. He let out what could only be described as a half chuckle/half sniffle. "It's about as straight as I am." He informed, which was to say, not at all. "Needs to go a little to the left."

Ash let out a snort. The years away from his parents and their church as well as the same years spent working side by side with all sorts of people had freed him from most of his prejudices. The ones that remained only seemed to direct inside toward himself. He liked that the chuckle sounded even if there was a bit of a sniffle with it. It hinted at what a joyful sound he would make if he was truly happy. He tilted it to the left. "How's that?"

Jackson gave a thumb's up as he used the other hand to wipe his eyes. "Much better." He said. "Probably as good as you'll get it without using a level, anyway." He added.

"I'll probably order a better hanger. 'Fraid the nail will damage it long run. I'll get some wire and do it up right. Then I'll use a level." He stepped back and stood next to Jackson. "Ain't that beautiful. Best thing I've ever owned." He looked over to his friend. "So I got a bunch of these little wooden critters. But some's better than others. Help me pick some for the shelves?" He raised a questioning eyebrow. "Then I got some of that casserole you made me. We could share some if you want. Maybe watch somethin' on the tv?"

It warmed Jackson's heart that Asher loved the painting enough to think about things like whether or not the method of hanging would damage it. He had to admit, he liked the way it looked in this room. It was just a touch homier now, and soon Jackson hoped to make this place feel like a home to Asher. He got the sense that Asher didn't feel at home here yet, and that made him sad. "Sure, let's look at them." He said, "That all sounds good, Sir." He offered a smile. It was small, only lasting a second or two, but it was genuine.

"Hang on. Be right back." He had realized at the last moment that his room was in no state for Jackson to see it. Usually he was quite neat. After all it was easy to be neat when you didn't have a lot of things. But that morning he had been in a hurry to get to class and he knew for a fact there was a pair of underwear right there in the middle of the floor. He scooped them up and tossed them in the hamper on his way to grab his duffel bag. The little wooden figures rattled around inside. Once back he sat on the couch and unzipped the bag. And started to pull the little creatures and set them out one next to the other. "I know they're kinda silly."

Jackson sat on the couch while he waited, trying to calm his mind and heart. His fingernails naturally found their way to his skin again, using the sharp little pains as a distraction tool until he felt less like bursting into tears at any moment and more focused on his actual surroundings. When Asher returned, he tugged a sleeve over his arm to hide a particularly bad spot. As the little wooden figures made their appearance, Jackson's eyes widened. "They're not silly at all, Sir." he assured, "They're amazing..." He reached out for one, gently lifting it to get a closer look. "Is this... Vulpix? Like from Pokemon?" He asked.

Asher wasn't the type to blush and he didn't quite blush now, but he looked a lot more like an a shy boy then he ever did. "Oh... umm, yeah. Used to love Pokemon when I was little." He still loved it clearly, but it felt safer to couch it in terms of a childhood thing. "The folks decided Pokemon were demons and wouldn't let us watch." He shrugged. "Guess just feels good to defy 'em."

Jackson smiled, picturing a young Asher and Silas sneaking over to a friend's house to watch Pokemon after school. "I used to love Pokemon too. Still do, sorta. Guess I'm not as into it as I once was, though." He admitted. "These are really cute though." He said, looking over the rest of the figures. "I think you should display them all, honestly."

"I should give the Pokemon one's to Si. He loves all that stuff." He picked up the bundled up little koala bear and handed it to Jackson. "Okay. I'll put 'em on the shelf. Better than bangin' around in my bag huh? But umm... would you take this one?" It was like how he felt Jackson should be... bundled up and protected.

Jackson carefully took the little bear, smiling at it. "Are you sure?" He asked, already kind of in love with the little figurine. He wasn't particularly attached to bears or anything, but he adored the way this one was all cozied up, and the fact that Asher had made it made it all the more special.

"Positive. It'll make me happy and proud knowin' you got him." He smiled and nodded. "So which do you think you'd like doin' more..." He had taken some time to research OCD and there was this thing he read about how control over tasks was super important. "figuring out how they should look on the shelf or heatin' up the food? Or we could to 'em both together."

Jackson nodded. "I'll keep him safe, Sir. I promise." He said, and then at being given the option, Jackson blinked. He wasn't used to that. Normally, Doms would just give him an order and he'd happily follow it, feeling happy to at least be useful. "Um.. I could put these up on the shelf, Sir." He said, knowing he'd get an immense amount of satisfaction from deciding how to arrange them in the most aesthetically pleasing way.

"Cool." He chuckled. "Was hoping you'd say that. Don't know where to start with that kinda thing." He figured that because the food was prepared by Jackson, he would feel comfortable eating it. He went to the kitchen and started to pull out the food and then suddenly had a thought. He left the food in the fridge and pulled out a bottle of cleaner and gave the counters and microwave a good once over, even though they were already clean to his eyes. He scooped the wood shavings and put them in the garbage before finally starting to reheat the casserole. He would occasionally look out over the kitchen bar to where Jackson was working. The suite felt like so much more than just a place in that moment.

Jackson immediately set to work, teaking hte figures and spacing them out along the shelves. He decided it would be best to have them throughout the whole room, it would help unify it a little, as well as give the whole room a personal touch rather than just one section. He kept like figures together, like the ones wrapped up in little wooden blankets like his koala were together. And the pokemon ones, while he was sure some were destined to go to Silas, he put on display for now as well. Sea creatures had their own shelf while terrestial creatures were on another. He couldn't resist, however, putting an owl next to a little wolf. He debated whether he should ask Asher for the little bird, and put it with them so they could all at least be together in one form, but somehow it felt wrong. He had taken notice of how Asher had cleaned his kitchen and microwave before starting, and he felt a flutter of fond appreciation grow in his chest for the man. He was taking a lot of extra steps, clearly for Jackson's benefit, and it made him feel really welcomed and important. He hadn't felt like that in a while.

He hadn't once eaten at the actual table, choosing instead the bar on the occasions when Jackson has brought him one of his always delicious meals. It feels appropriate to have his first meal in the place with Jackson. Once the casserole was hot enough he looked for something to go with it. The cupboards were pretty much bare, but he did find some bottled waters. He went through the cleaning process for the table and then set out two plates, the casserole with a serving spoon, and the bottled waters before making his way over to the living room. "Wow." He looked around and it honestly seemed like a different place. "Looks like someone actually lives here."(edited)

Jackson had just taken a step back to examine his work, and like always, he was finding tiny little flaws and details and was now making micro-adjustments to the configuration of a few of the figures when Asher came back into the room. Despite it not being perfect yet, the fact that Asher seemed to like what was going on so far made Jackson relax just a tiny bit. Maybe he didn't need to adjust everything to perfection today. He did finish with the figures he was working with though, before he stepped back. His eyes caught the little wolf with the little owl again, and he had to force himself to turn away. When was it going to stop hurting so much, he wondered? Every little thing seemed to remind him of what he'd lost, and distractions only lasted a few moments before he was reminded yet again. "You like it?" He asked Asher, not fishing for compliments, but rather fishing for another distraction. Anything, really, to keep his mind from spiralling any further.

"I really do. Feels like a home." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Never really looked at my stuff all at once. They're not too bad huh?" The little critters had been his secret friends, but he'd never really 'looked' at them. "Thanks. Wouldn'tna done it myself." He rubbed his neck again. "Got food ready. Wanna eat."

Jackson nodded in agreement. "They're amazing, Sir." He assured. They really brighten up the place." He stated, and as he looked over at the table he was endeared by how Asher had even set the table and everything. "Yeah, let's eat." He agreed, making his way over to the table to sit.

Asher hurried over to pull out a chair for his guest. He suddenly felt like this place was more than just four walls. It was his home. A home that Jackson had helped him build. It all started with that painting. As he pulled out his own chair and sat he looked over at the painting and smiled. "This is the first time I had someone over for dinner." He didn't mean just here at Lima. He'd lived a solitary life since leaving home. Sure he'd go to a bar with co-workers or grab some food off the roach coach with them, but sharing a meal in his own home? This was a first. And he liked it. "So... umm.... how's classes going?" Alright so he needed to work on his small talk.

Jackson sat down and offered an awkward smile in thanks for Asher pulling the chair out for him. The switch picked up his fork and began to slowly separate the components of his food. It wasn't something he did all the time, but it was a habit that carried over from his childhood. If he wasn't feeling particularly hungry, he would take his time sorting his food, and eat by making sure he had a little bit of everything in each bite. It took way longer, but often his mind was so engaged in it he'd be able to get a good portion of it down before he had to stop. "Classes are... well, I don't think I'm failing, at the very least." He finished, realizing he was behind on at least two assignments already and there was some reading he had to do for a different class.

Ash watched as Jackson picked apart the casserole organizing all of the ingredients. He knew it wasn't because the food was bad. One, because it was delicious and more importantly because he made it. If Asher had made it he'd be worried. He figured it was something else... probably still feeling the pain about this guy he'd broken up with. He at casserole while listening. "I was never very good in school and it's been years now. Just weird getting used to homework. Homework! I'm too old for homework." He exaggerated hoping he could maybe bring a smile to his friend's face.

#asher #para

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dexter-wells-beiste · 4 years

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I Owe You a Painting || Jacksher

Who - @jacksonxschuester and @asherkarofsky Where - Asher’s suite When - A quite weeknight What - Jackson delivers the painting he promised to paint for Asher. He helps make the empty suite into more of a home.

Jackson gave a thumb's up as he used the other hand to wipe his eyes. "Much better." He said. "Probably as good as you'll get it without using a level, anyway." He added.

#about jackson #about asher #[as you wish]#[record scratch... freeze frame... you might be wondering how i got here]

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awkwardplantwrites · 5 years

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Finding Magic Chapter Four

Posting early this week!

Chapter 4: 2090 words / Reading time: 10 minutes

Genre: Fantasy/Adventure/Action

Find the chapter on wattpad (Bippick is my wattpad username)

New to the story? Missed some updates? Find all the chapters here on tumblr

(Artwork by @pe-ersona ~ Reblogs and comments are appreciated :D )

When Renato woke up the next morning, Pepi wasn't sitting by the door. Renato drew the curtains open and looked out the window. People pitched coloured tents in the town center, they hung triangles on strings between buildings, and children (or small people?) dressed in costumes of creatures he recognized from his folklore books. Someone knocked at the door.

"Come in," Renato said, rubbing his eyes.

Helaine walked in holding a hot drink that steamed. "Brought you a hangover cure. How are you feeling?"

"Fine, surprisingly. I don't even have a headache."

Helaine rolled her eyes and tutted. "To be young... Okay, in that case, this is a thank you for finding Rizze."

"Thank you. Or you're welcome? I would've brought him back even if you didn't serve me beverages." He took the drink from her and blew over the top, the liquid rippled. "You're ten years older than me, aren't you? Thirty-three is still young."

"A lot can change in ten years," she mused and sat on the bed. "For example, I travelled here from Bhārat as a merchant, selling my family's spices. Fell in love with a beautiful girl. Found myself at home in this town. Had an argument with my family that spanned hundreds of letters when I told them I wouldn't return. Opened a spice shop. Closed it. Re-opened and began selling flowers. Met a duo with outrageous ideas who pulled them off without a hitch. Earned a headache after a night of celebration..." Helaine grimaced and took a sip from her cup.

"What a wonderful way to spend ten years. Though last night was hardly without a hitch, we nearly got caught. Rizze kept scratching me on the way back too," Renato trailed off. "I think there's something going on with Pepi. He was cheerful last night, but it felt forced. Normally he waits until I wake up to wander off, but..." He gestured to the empty chair. "I'm not sure if I should ask him about it. Pepi's good at talking without saying much of anything at all."

"Kater is similar, I know how you feel."

"Don't you find it frustrating? How can you get along with someone who's like that? I feel like he's lying to me by not telling me the whole truth."

Taking another sip, Helaine was quiet as she thought. "It can be tiresome, having a relationship with someone who avoids issues when you'd rather confront them, get it over with. Kater gets so concerned about hurting my feelings."

Helaine pushed up her glasses. "Sometimes she avoids problems because she's indecisive, and would rather figure it out herself before giving me an answer. It's about trust. Sharing secrets means there's a chance the other person will learn the truth and never speak to them again. Or they'll think differently of that person for the rest of time. It's a vulnerable place to be. And it's not an unfounded fear, as no-one can predict the future."

"Try telling that to Pepi. He visited a diviner the other day."

"Kater tries to read her palms. She's convinced she'll die young because her'health line is shorter than average,'" Helaine chuckled. "You're a nice boy, I reckon Pepi trusts you but isn't ready to take down his emotional barriers. It's like a shield for him. He respects you too much and doesn't want to bother you."

Renato frowned. "Too much?"

"He's your squire, right?" Renato nodded. "That's not quite equal to a knight, is it? Especially not one chosen by a god." She scrunched her nose. "What does that mean exactly? How are you different from regular magic users?"

"Me spells are more powerful, and I'm able to use more magic than the average person. I can speak to Lidion if I stare long enough at some water. It's not all that special. Gives me a lot more work to do though."

"You're doing a great job. No-one would think you're ill," she remarked.

Renato blinked in surprise. "Apart from you, somehow."

"I like to pick up on the little things. They matter the most." Helaine smiled.

Nodding, Renato turned to look out the window again. "What's happening outside?"

Helaine peered out the window. "It's Spirt's Eve already? Oh, Kater will be in a hurry to set up decorations today. She's always leaving these things to the last minute."

"What's Spirit's Eve?"

Searching Renato's eyes, Helaine scrunched her nose. "It's a holiday, where we celebrate the lives of people who lived, and walk amongst beings and creatures from folklore."

"It looks exciting. We don't have holidays in Llantry."

"You celebrate nothing? You don't even have one day to share a feast? Or a day of rest?"

As Renato shrugged and shook his head, Kater's voice resounded through the Inn while she yelled.

"I'm telling you, I've met no one of the sort! Get out of my establishment!"

Pepi appeared at the door, poking his head through the crack. "I may have, uh, tipped off the folk at the manor about our location last night by accident. We should go."

Kater screamed downstairs. A glass smashed.

"Preferably now," Pepi added

Helaine rushed out the room. Renato threw his blanket to the side of the bed. He got dressed, brushing Pepi off when he tried to help, and told him to find a way out instead. Pepi left with Finlay trailing behind him, pulsing black and red light.

Renato stuffed his night clothes into his bag, taking out his pocket mirror for a moment to fix his hair. Pepi opened the door again.

"There's a patch of straw outside the hallway window," Pepi told Renato. "We have to jump, there's no other way out."

Wanting to protest, Renato opened his mouth, but closed it again when he realized he didn't have time to argue. The sound of shouting spurred him on. He clutched his bag to his chest and followed Pepi to the window. When it was his turn to jump, he sent a short prayer to Lidion, hoped he wouldn't break anything a healer couldn't fix, and leapt onto the straw. He landed with a roll and limped to the wagon, peeking at the front entrance of the Inn where Kater kept the Wakefield knights occupied. A man wearing an apron turned at the sound of their horse neighing, which Pepi tried to calm down, and he pointed in their direction.

"That's them! Hurry, before they get away!"

Renato tumbled into the back of the wagon, Pepi climbed into the jockey box and tugged at the reins.

"Bye Kater, Helaine! Nice meeting you for the first time, again!" Pepi yelled. "We'll come back someday. Save me some ale!"

Renato also called out a goodbye, waving from the rear of the wagon, then ducked down when the Wakefield knights started bombing them with spells. The wagon swerved, Pepi tried to dodge the spells and the tents on the street.

"Sorry!" Pepi shouted. "That pumpkin looked swell, carve another masterpiece, kid!"

Renato watched as the knights found a wagon of their own. "Pepi, they'll catch up soon, what do we do?"

"I don't know! You're the hero, figure something out, I'm driving!"

Searching for any tools, Renato noticed children hitting colourful horses with wooden sticks, which exploded with treats after being beaten. He grabbed the next one he found, snatching it off the string as children wailed. Ripping the horse apart, it revealed rock-solid cinnamon buns. Renato threw them at the knights chasing them.

"Are these supposed to be edible?" he cried.

They turned a sharp corner, and Renato lost his grip on the shredded treat filled horse, while Pepi struggled to steady the real horse. Renato watched the corner they'd passed, and a smile formed on his lips. They'd lost their chasers!

That smile vanished when the knights also turned the corner, using magic to propel their wagon to go faster.

"Stopcheating!" Renato made a face at the other wagon.

"Wha- are you a child?!" A knight he recognized from the previous night, who'd invited him to play Bone Crowns, shouted at him. "Stop your vehicle this instant!"

"I thought we were buddies!" Renato narrowly avoided being struck by another spell. "You said I was more fun than regular Larry, and I am! But I won't be if you try to kill me!"

"This isn't a game, you dunce!"

"It is so, now let me win!" Renato grabbed a flower basket, apologized to Helaine in his head, and threw it at the wagon. It hit a knight in the face. "Fifty points to me."

For a second they faltered, but they grew faster, eventually overtaking them. The knights banged the wagon into the side of theirs, tearing at the cover with daggers. Renato yelped and tried to stay on the safe side. Then Pepi cried out, and Renato saw they caught him in a magic rope that tied itself around his wrist. Their cart veered out of control. Renato raced over to the jockey box, yanking at the rope, which flew from the apron man's grasp. Unfortunately, that end of the rope tied itself around Renato's wrist, tying the two of them together. He scrambled for the reins with one hand and screamed with every ounce of energy in his body.

"LIDION, I NEED YOU! PLEASE!"

With a great gust of wind, Lidion answered his prayer; the wind slowed the other wagon down to a halt; the wheels snapped in half, rendering the knights immobile. For the first time in months, Renato laughed. It became hysterical, and he clutched his stomach when he saw the knights still trying to shoot spells at them as they rode away.

Then a ticking grenade landed inside the wagon and it wasn't funny anymore.

"Jump, Pepi!"

"I have to unharness the horse!"

"No time!" Renato pushed Pepi to the road.

The horse screeched in fear, racing on ahead with no-one to guide it. Lying on the road, Pepi and Renato shielded their eyes as the wagon exploded. A sharp, loud buzzing filled their ears. Pepi looked like he was shouting, but Renato couldn't hear his words. Looking back, he noticed the knights followed them on foot. He pulled Pepi up with the hand tied to him and ran past the wagon.

Pepi tried to go back for the horse but Renato had a firm grip on his hand and heaved the other man away from the scene. Glancing back at the knights, he saw they'd stopped running, standing at the outskirts of town where a sign stood, thanking them for visiting. He blew a raspberry at Wakefield and continued dragging Pepi as fast and far as they could go.

As Renato's hearing returned to normal, he noticed both their panting and slowed to a halt, shoving off his bag, collapsing alongside Pepi onto the grass. How far had they ran from Wakefield? He didn't know. It didn't matter as long as they were safe. He couldn't gather the strength to see where they lay. All he knew was: it was raining, the surrounding trees stood taller than any he'd ever seen, and Pepi's hand was warm in his.

"Pepi," he gasped. "Why didn't we take a boat?"

"... Shit. Wait, no, I can justify this! Uh... Do you know anyone who has a boat?" Finlay darted around Pepi, flashing a purple light.

"Well, no," Renato replied.

"Neither do I."

"We could have asked someone who has a boat though," Renato noted. "I don't think your reasoning covers up this plot hole or my wounded pride enough."

"In that case," Pepi breathed. "They enchanted the water around Adhur. See, Adhur's a low floating island. One too many ships bumped into it. So they cast a spell that meant no-one can sail near Adhur," Pepi explained. "Sailors get confused and go around it. The island has griffins that pick up people from the mainland."

Renato sighed. "Could've got a boat somewhere close to Adhur though."

"I get seasick?" Finlay began to turn orange. "Finlay stop giving me away, you're supposed to catch other people's lies not mine," Pepi whispered.

"Okay, and I'm afraid of large bodies of water. So that's why we couldn't sail. That makes a logical argument. I can sleep soundly knowing the plot makes sense."

"We could be sailors in another universe, another story." Pepi squeezed his hand.

Renato laced their fingers. "In another universe I'd be Rizze, sleeping all day in a sunny spot of The Ugly Snail."

Renato and Pepi wheezed with weak laughter, resting where they lay.

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greatmar2 · 6 years

Text

Exercising Authority (Mar Chapter 6)

Mar Sterkvleuel | < Meets (Chapter 5)

Weeks after having joined the research team at Rentik’s behest, Mar continues his training at the College while aiding them in their work. Yet, there are new developments in regards to the project.

6529 words | 26 min reading time

Mar stood alone in a pine forest. Tall, straight trees towered above him with nothing but exposed bark down below. Their discarded needles carpeted the floor, smothering and choking sprouts and weeds alike. The air was a biting cold, causing his wings to numb and become painful to move after his body had decided it was not worth the energy expenditure to heat them. Imitating the vibrations that humans did when cold did not seem to help, and energy he spent to create heat was quickly lost to the environment.

These conditions allowed only the hardiest plants to survive the ground below. Due to the density of the trees and the needle-dampened ground, sound also did not survive for long – yet the dense air allowed it to travel further, all coalescing into a dull din permeating the forest.

He had come to this place to practice what he’d learnt in theory.

To his left lay a small stream wide and deep enough that he could sit down in the centre and have the water almost reach his head. The banks were free from pine trees and instead ruled by shrubbery. In order to grant him easier access to the water, he had torn a section of bushes up from the ground and piled them behind himself along with a mass of mangled pine wood that had once been a tree.

It took a surprising amount of effort to fell a tree. He had wished for a tool and even considered whacking it with his tail. Applying force to an object as a whole to lift and move it at speed was child’s play. But Mar knew that using a sharp object would be the antithesis of his reason for coming here. In bringing down the tree, and further splitting it into smaller parts, he had needed to apply a focused force directly to small portions of the wood. Unfortunately for the tree, focusing energy into a finer point was exactly what he was practising. The end result was a pile of wood that looked like someone had chopped it apart with the wrong side of an axe. His earlier idea of imitating Irikshan’s clean and intricate carving of a stone city was quickly dismissed.

On his right, a blazing fire crackled on bare dirt that he had cleared of pine needles. The burning wood bubbled and popped, spewing forth smoke as resin boiled. Freshly chopped wood was not ideal for a fire, but it served its purpose. Some of the coals boiled even more enthusiastically than the rest, having just recently been soaked in the stream. Another of his exercises had been to divert the water around flaming coals, ultimately creating a pocket of air for them to continue to burn underwater. As evidenced by the amount of soaked wood that he had to reignite, neither had he mastered this.

Yet now his practice was interrupted as he sensed the presence of another touching his mind. He could not locate the individual, as there was not a soul nearby. It was an odd sensation. For lack of better description, he grabbed this individual’s mental probe and pulled them.

The air in a wide area before him rippled and distorted as if a volcanic level of heat were now mixing with the cold forest air. Slowly the distortions became more draconic in shape while the figure gained green and orange colouration. Finally, the figure became flesh: a dragon so tall, Mar’s head barely reached his leaf-green-plated chest. While the undersides of his wings were the same green, and his scales primarily a burnt-out orange, they were a mess of yellowish stripes and wisps of green. Irikshan had joined.

“We’re going to have to work on your awareness of the real world when you’re in your illusions. I’m certain you could eventually operate in both at the same time – similar to how I do not need to devote my entire attention to either of our illusions. Good morning, Mar.” Irikshan blinked a few times at a measured pace, expressing that he was pleased to begin the lesson.

“Yeah, with three centuries of practice. Morning, sir.”

Irikshan snorted. “This is no competition. We’ve already established our abilities work differently. I alter an individual’s perceptions of reality, while you put them in a state akin to lucid dreaming – with the accompanying sped up perceptions of time.” The elder surveyed the area, and the mess Mar had created. His response was tilting his head questioningly. “Are you certain you should be practising in here and not reality? I know physics has behaved how we expected, but that precisely may be the issue. What if it is supposed to behave in an unexpected manner?”

“Saves time,” he flicked his tail dismissively. “I wanted to get some practice in before you came. On stuff I already understand. Focusing here is even harder than normal, so I figured if I could get better here, it would have an easier time in reality.”

“Fair enough. Have you been busy with work from that research team?”

“Yes.”

“How’s it going?”

“Don’t you get their progress reports?”

Irikshan bobbed his head, “I do, but I was asking after your personal experience. There are some big decisions that need to be made today.”

“Well, I’m thankful for the opportunity. To Rentik that she encouraged the team to take me as an apprentice, and to the team for choosing to do so. Didn’t expect them to take me seriously, I’m still a child. I’m learning a lot, and my previous experience with computers has rendered me not completely useless. It’s just a lot to keep up with.”

“I can have your schedule changed if you would like?” Irikshan tilted his head again. “We have multiple programs to handle both full time and part-time students.”

“No, no, it’s fine. The team members have only taken me on the condition that I continue to put my studies first.”

“Good. And what do you think of the machine’s capabilities?”

“Machines have always been great at doing simple things faster and more reliably than us or the humans. It’s the complex things that are challenging. But as the technology improves and is released to the public, people – not even necessarily us – will figure out how to make it do more and more.” He paused, the excitement clear in his eyes. Irikshan nodded him on. “Currently I’m helping make software that can help bug test their stuff, while most of the team is working on functionality where it can record and imitate actions. They’re also working on making it more customisable. Someday we could have it record advanced abilities and imitate those. Imagine being able to take dream-vacations on demand! Hah!”

“Be careful that you don’t get ahead of yourself. You can still barely control your illusions beyond where you end up. You’ve passed your theory exams last week, and now’s the time for you to practice.” Irikshan stepped back.

“What’s the plan today?” Mar felt a large sneeze coming, closing his eyes and wrinkling his nose in preparation. It did not come. When he opened his eyes, he found thick crisscrossing metal bars filling his vision. They surrounded him on all sides and even above. Not that the confined space was large enough for him to open his wings and fly. The bars were also sunk into the ground below, firmly anchored there.

“Get out the cage.”

“Really?” Mar tapped the metal with a claw. The bars rang hollow. The metal appeared to be a type of steel. There was no point testing whether they were real or not.

“Yes.”

Sure, Irikshan was the head of the mage college, but it still irked Mar to some degree that the elder had better control of Mar’s illusions than Mar himself had. Ever since Irikshan had discovered that altering Mar’s perception of his own world, in other words causing Mar to see illusions in illusions, caused those alterations to become part of the world, the Elder had been looking for any excuse to use his illusions. If it weren’t for the Elder’s always-serious demeanour, Mar would have thought that he took an almost hatchling-like joy in seeing his own illusions become ‘real’.

Drawing from his heart-crystal, Mar condensed a copious amount of energy into his fist – to the point where it stung. He swung at the bar, releasing a kinetic blast forwards moments before hitting the bars. He very suddenly wished he had stopped his swing short, as he found himself punching the unflinching metal. Irikshan had diverted the blast around the metal, towards himself, and absorbed it. Mar waved his hand in the air as if that would dull the pain.

“Come now Mar, you knew that wouldn’t work. You could spend all the energy you have like that and you wouldn’t get very far. Decrease surface area you apply it to, and you decrease the required force to break it. You really should have thought that through.”

Nursing his throbbing hand, Mar asked, “Can I have my energy back please?”

“No. That is not how you’re supposed to get out this cage. You do not need imaginary energy to get out of this imaginary cage. Just like the energy you spent, it only exists in this world as long as you allow it to.”

With a sigh, Mar closed his eyes. It was challenging to focus, but he endeavoured to do so. He tugged on the dream, attempting to manipulate it to free himself. The world around him lurched, then the frigid forest soundscape vanished – replaced with the sounds of training.

Opening his eyes, Mar found himself back amongst the familiar mountains of Tumenzar. In the region behind Raifal College, several small training grounds had been established in the mountains, far from major structures such as the dam and water treatment plant.

Mar had lain down at the edge of the large, roughly circular arena where he’d started practising. On the opposite side of the arena, another trainee and their mentor were tossing bolts of electricity between each other. It was a dragoness training a foreign-looking man. He was likely one of Tumenzar’s significant temporary population, here to study and train before returning to their homes. Although, he could just have easily been amongst, or the descendant of, those that chose to stay.

Outside the arena, at a distance close enough they could intervene but far enough their presence did not feel oppressive, stood two more dragons. They were covered in plain black three-piece cloaks that went over their backs and under their wings, connecting at the neck and the base of the tail. These cloaks hung downwards in a curtain-like fashion. His senses as to what might be hidden beneath were suspiciously blocked off. He was too nervous to ask Irikshan about them, let alone approach them and ask them themselves.

“Mar, stay focused.” Finally, in front of Mar, the scowling Elder himself sat. His snout was crinkled and brows furrowed, but he was not showing his teeth. “The secret service escort is a part of my job you really should be used to by now. If there’s anyone here you should be scared of, it’s me.”

“Well,” the youngster tried to lighten the mood, “I got out of the cage.”

“No, Mar. You need to take this seriously. Let’s do it again.”

“Yes, sir.” he closed his eyes, picturing the frigid pine forest that they had just been in before easing himself and Irikshan into the dream.

Mar sat outside, a small distance from one of the two main entrances of the college complex, holding his tablet with one hand and supporting himself with the other. Mentally triggering the capacitive screen was an easy enough action. One that he’d gotten quite used to. Although, at this moment he stood at the railing at the edge of the courtyard, looking down the mountain slopes.

Each of Raifal College’s main entrances lay on opposite sides of the river. The areas in front of them were large red brick courtyards, clear of anything that could obstruct incoming or departing dragons. They were partially supported by pillars embedded in the sloped ground below. On the far end of each courtyard lay expansive parking lots.

The college complex consisted of several partially-freestanding buildings, adjoined by sky bridges – the most prominent of which joined the two buildings directly on each riverbank, near the thundering falls. The river itself, while not huge from a global perspective, was a great boon to two of Tumenzar’s three capital cities and many smaller settlements along its south-westward course.

In front of the college complex, downhill from the falls, lay a meticulously designed and maintained botanical garden consisting largely of species indigenous to the country. Wide grassy areas dotted with trees separated groups plants that had different soil preferences. Even surveying from so far, Mar could spot many distinctly recognisable plants: Sweet Thorn Acacias, Baobabs, Marula Trees, King Proteas, Strelitzias, Arum Lillies, Red Hot Pokers, and so many more.

Mar looked back at his tablet. He’d been messaging a few friends that he’d met online over the years. They had formed a server on a messaging application and talked there. Those friends had added their friends, and it had become a fairly large and diverse group with members from around the world. Many of them worked in IT-related positions, but more didn’t. The server was named The Bytes Bit.

All on the server spoke Imaadudish – the language that was the standard for international business and trade. Mar himself, although speaking Tumenzarian at home and with family, had done his studies and work in Imaadudish. He almost didn’t notice when he switched languages anymore.

There had been some meetups between members of the group that lived in the same countries. Mar himself had met a dragon and human who lived in Tumenzar. There had been no big international meetup, but most of them had shared pictures of what they looked like. While Mar couldn’t be certain that any of them except those he had met looked like the pictures they sent, he could not see a reason that they would need to use pictures of someone else instead of simply not sharing.

At this moment in time, several members were abuzz about some new game announcements at an international exhibition called the Electronic Entertainment Expo. Mar himself was skimming the messages, but not participating in the conversation. He had other things to keep him busy of late.

Behind him, the large automatic doors had been regularly opening and closing as students, staff, and visitors came and went. Once again they opened, to the footsteps of a large dragon exiting the complex. This time, however, the footsteps changed direction towards him.

“Young Sterkvleuel.” The voice was smooth and soft, for a dragon. Friendly, despite the family-name greeting. Mar turned to find himself looking at a Scriven of gold and off-white, decorated with dark navy blue stripes. She did not seem to have seen battle, let alone let her age show via anything but her size. The amount of jewellery she wore would have looked tacky on most others, but she wore it with style. Additionally, Mar could tell that those gems were not mere decoration.

“Miss Rentik. How are you today?” Mar returned the pleasant smile he received.

“I am well. When are you planning to go to the lab?”

“I was just about to.”

“Good, I was also heading there myself. Fly with me?”

“Yes ma’am,” Mar nodded and slipped his tablet into his bag, securing it closed.

Rentik unfurled her sail-sized wings and began beating at the air, blasting enough air into the ground that Mar had to brace himself or be knocked off his feet. His nictitating membranes instinctively shut, the world around him becoming blurred.

Mar detected more energy released by Rentik than that of her wings against the air. She was giving herself some extra lift. He wondered how it felt, or if she even noticed she did it anymore. It was a well-enough known problem experienced by all species of Draco: older dragons had to counteract a portion of gravity on their own bodies, lest their own weight cause health complications, or keep them grounded. Natural selection was a cruel thing, only striving to ensure that living beings made it to reproductive age, and not caring for what happened beyond that. Especially as said creature’s lifespans extended far beyond what their ancient, less energetically adept, ancestors’ once might have been.

Once the air had stilled enough, Mar likewise spread his wings and took to the air. He too provided himself with some extra lift to get into the air faster, but it was a conscious decision. Perhaps someday he might simply stop noticing that he did it.

Rentik had been gliding in a circle, waiting for him, and began to fly in the direction of the labs when he joined her. He followed a small distance behind her left wing.

Rentik turned her head to look at him, then called loud enough to be heard, “How have things been going for you?”

“Well enough. I’m already tired today and it’s barely noon. I am making progress with my training, but it seems like Irikshan is having to force himself to be patient with me. The research team seem like that too. I am learning a lot, but I feel like I’m only being marginally helpful to them as their in-house bug tester.”

“That is no fault of your own. Normally individuals far more experienced and skilled than you would find themselves in those positions.”

“Thanks,” Mar said sarcastically. He was tempted to add to that but knew Rentik only meant well.

“No need to be upset. The fact that you still keep going, striving to learn and become better, speaks to a persistence and desire to grow that is far too rare, especially amongst our kind. Your progress and persistence are what lead me to invite you to the research team. I’m sure those aspects will serve you well in life.”

“Thanks.” It was genuine this time.

“I dislike it when drake settle down in mere comfort. They stop striving for more, to become better. What’s more is that they can even come to fear change and actively fight it. Part of what I love about Tumenzar is that scientific and technological advancement is the norm.” She paused, thinking. Their destination was nearing. “Still, some things could certainly stand to improve.”

“Do you think the project is ok?”

“Yes, I like the team and their progress. They’re certainly persistent too. You’re only seeing the tail end of this, but they’ve been through a lot.”

The two glided apart. They had arrived at the science complex building. Mar politely let Rentik land first and waited for her to move out of the way before he came down to the ground. They entered the building and were greeted and then thoroughly inspected by security staff. Mar’s bags were taken, as usual, to be returned when he left. Rentik’s were merely glanced through, but that was not surprising.

Once the check was done, they headed to the stairwell. Its steps were divided into two sections that had different sizes and spacing, one large enough for Rentik and one small enough for humans… or Mar. The lab his team worked in was on the third floor and each floor was seven metres tall. He typically took the elevator, which he was still small enough to fit inside, but now walked with Rentik.

“Irikshan said some big decisions are being made today?” Mar hoped he’d get told what these were.

“I haven’t been informed of anything of the sort yet.”

“Oh.”

Mar found himself skipping steps to keep up with Rentik’s large strides.

“Are you going to continue working on that diagnostic program today?”

“Yes.” Mar, under the oversight of the rest of the team, had been designing a program that would run diagnostics and bug testing on their software and machines. It was a simple enough concept, to try to break the programs while observing what went wrong, but to do so automatically instead of manually proved challenging. They’d been pleased with his idea, but he was certain they would have done something like that on their own eventually.

“Good. I’ll be in Vivette’s office for a while before I have to leave.” Mar had learnt when he officially joined that Vivette was the leader of the main team working on this project. Despite this, her attitude was more as if she was supporting a team of equals than exerting authority over them. An approach that seemed to be a great boon to team morale.

When they reached the third floor, Rentik turned into the office when they passed it, leaving Mar to continue to the lab alone.

Mar, Morne and Mischa stood in front of a whiteboard, taking turns with the marker pen and having their say on what their next addition to the diagnostic program would be, and what approach to the addition they would take. They were currently leaning towards some basic emulation of output and input from one of their machines so that the software could be tested as if it were live, while it was actually not. Testing the software with user-defined or random inputs and only recording its outputs could only get one so far.

All heads in the lab turned towards the door as it burst open and two dragons marched in. They wore black three-piece cloaks with badges pinned to the front and the large, bold letters ‘CDI’ on the side. The one in the lead flashed his badge, then announced, “Agent Ruan. Council’s Department of Investigation. We’re here to inform you that this project is under new authority.”

There were a couple of sounds of surprise from the team, but the rest remained silent. Looking around the room, several of the team members had their wings partially spread, while a couple of their tails flicked back and forth. This could have been agitation or simple startlement.

“Can I see that, please?” Mischa stepped forward and pointed towards where the badge hung from the dragon’s cloak. He nodded and the badge floated to Mischa, who took some time to inspect it before sending it back.

“Elder Irikshan is here too,” the agent commented. “He is speaking to Vivette and Rentik. I am here with some forms for you all to sign.” Said forms were distributed.

Mar was in a position where he could see out the door and down the passage. He saw more agents, along with a tail – ending in a pointed shape somewhere between a spade and an arrowhead – sticking out of Vivette’s office doorway. The tail soon vanished fully into the office. He was fairly certain that it belonged to Irikshan.

Setting his sight on the document he’d received, Mar was met with rather intimidating legal-speak. Hoping to gain some understanding of what he was signing for, he asked, “What’s happening?”

“This project is now under the direct control of the council,” Agent Ruan answered. “The document outlines what you need to know.”

“Why?”

“National security,” came the curt response.

“That’s not very informative.”

“No,” Morne agreed, “it isn’t. But I can imagine why they made the decision.”

“So, what are we signing?” Mar thought it would be more efficient to have it explained than to decipher it himself. And he felt a little lazy.

“To summarise what it says here,” Luski was the one who spoke up. His tone indicated he wanted clarification on whether he himself had interpreted the document correctly. “We, both our team and the other teams, will continue all our research as-is. This includes the means of mass production, but without the plans to produce, sell, or release anything. The council will handle decisions on what to release to the press and public. All our previous contracts and non-disclosure agreements still hold sway, but we are in obligation to the council instead of Rentik and Raifal College.”

“That is correct. If you’ll sign at the bottom, I will sign as your first witness, and one of your colleagues can sign as the second.”

While the signing was being done, Lucy asked, “What about the significant funds that Rentik and the college invested into this project?”

Mar had Morne sign as his second witness. No one had asked him to be theirs, but that didn’t bother him.

“Both are being reimbursed,” Ruan answered matter-of-factly.

Looking back down the passageway, Mar saw Vivette, Rentik and Irikshan leaving the office. Vivette looked mildly unsettled. Rentik’s expression was one of pure distaste, to the point that she could probably curdle perfectly good milk just by looking at it. Irikshan did a remarkable job at keeping a neutral countenance in the face of that.

“Did you tell Irikshan something?”

The three had stopped walking and continued talking, but the conversation did seem to be concluding. Oddly enough, no sound at all could be heard from their conversation.

“Mar.”

“Yes?” Mar responded to his name. He turned to see that Mischa had been speaking to him. “Pardon me?”

“Did you say something to Irikshan that affected this decision?”

“Mischa,” Morne stepped in, “Don’t go blaming this on Mar. This decision would have been the entire council’s and would have been deliberated at length. Additionally, they would already have had access to our reports.”

“I do not and will not blame this on Mar,” Mischa stated. “I am simply curious.”

Despite her not showing any aggressive body language, Mar found himself shrinking from her gaze. “Well,” he opted to answer the question, “I did speak to Irikshan this morning during my training session. He asked after my opinion of the project and said there was some big decision to be made. I guess this was it.”

“Most likely,” Mischa nodded, “How did you respond?”

“I said I’m learning a lot, mentioned what we’re currently working on, and expressed my excitement about the machine’s potential.”

“The machine’s potential is likely what the council is worried about,” Mischa concluded. “But they would have been aware of that and would have been observing us for long.”

Agent Ruan, who had just collected the last form from Zhen, now spoke again at last. “We will be leaving now. Carry on with your good work.”

Looking down the passage again, Mar saw Irikshan had left. Vivette’s door was closed. She and Rentik had probably gone back into the office. Mar rushed after the agents. Hearing him approach, Ruan turned around with a quickness and readiness that caused Mar to come to a fearful screeching halt.

Peering towards the small dragon, while remaining tense Ruan asked, “Can I help?” A sliver of his teeth were showing.

Mar could sense the other dragon’s mental presence, checking him for any sign that he would pose a threat. Mar’s heart was suddenly pounding as the realisation dawned that these agents could be incredibly dangerous if they needed to. “I uh… I wanted to… I was going to go talk to the Elder.”

“I don’t think he’d have the time for you, little one.”

“Let him past, Ruan,” The other agent spoke for the first time, “That’s Elder Irikshan’s mentee. You ‘skimmed’ the personnel files again, didn’t you?”

The first agent shot the second a look as if to say, ‘not now’. “Very well, go on ahead.” The two stepped aside and allowed Mar to run past. When he reached the stairwell, he glanced down and saw Irikshan had just reached the second floor.

Irikshan’s small envoy quickly noticed Mar scrabbling down the stairs, and so did Irikshan. He stopped and waited, blinking slowly to indicate trust. A couple of CDI agents reacted in a similar manner to Ruan, but then relaxed somewhat when they noticed Irikshan. When Mar had caught up, Irikshan resumed his descent. “What’s the matter, my student?”

“I wanted to ask… if you may tell me… What is the reason behind this, and what are your plans? I’m sure the team would like to know as well.”

“I explained to Vivette and Rentik. I asked Vivette to explain it to all of you. But, put simply, the council wants to be sure that this technology does not get into the wrong hands. Until we are certain that we have enough… safeguards in place, this technology will remain secret. Well, the specifics of it. The public already knows of its existence thanks to Rentik’s press releases. We want to be prepared for problems that can and will arise once this becomes public.”

Mar nodded. That made sense. “And what of Rentik?”

“The council has not decided yet. She appears as if she will act territorial and non-cooperative this time. I will recommend she be removed from the project.”

“I think she’ll be fine. She’s got grand ideas and likes taking the lead. Give her some time, and she’ll adjust and figure out a way to help out.”

“Sir,” one of the agents drew Irikshan’s attention to look to the entrance to the building. The building’s security staff and a couple CDI agents were holding back a couple dozen reporters, extending their wings to block off more area. The reporters continued snapping pictures past the wings and through the glass of the doors.

“Ugh,” Irikshan groaned. “They’re better at sniffing out a story than an Ostrocation Bloodseeker. I’m not dressed for this, nor in the mood for them to get in my face.”

Mar looked to the doors, feeling shy from all the cameras even this far away. He heard footsteps heading down the last stairs. He moved to follow when a hand stopped him. He looked back to find Irikshan stopping him from descending, while another Irikshan descended the stairs. Irikshan’s escorts descended the stairs with that Irikshan.

“Briefly returning to the subject of Rentik: I partially agree with your assessment. She has a history of thinking she always knows best even if the council decides otherwise. Sometimes she agrees with our decisions, other times she does not. This is normal. She has a tendency to give us some pain about decisions she does not agree with. And this is a particularly sensitive project.”

“I see.”

Still aware of the two Irikshans, Mar concentrated on the one in front of him, then poked at it. He felt the Elder’s rough and worn scales. With some effort, Mar managed to look past that. He observed that it was simply an artificial force preventing his hand from moving forward, while his mind perceived it to be Irikshan’s scales.

The fake-Irikshan smiled, pleased. “I would have done it the other way around if that would not end up displeasing the press so much when they realise they took pictures of empty air once I leave.”

“What if they looked at the pictures they took now?”

“I could make them see me in the pictures as well.”

“Woah!”

“This is the result of considerable practice. I will see you for training tomorrow.”

Mar nodded, returning the smile before he blinked and the Irikshan before him vanished. “I will see you tomorrow.”

As soon as the real Irikshan exited the building, the crowd of journalists began calling for a statement. Mar could see Irikshan slightly retreating from the plethora of microphones floating towards his face. Irikshan responded that the project will continue as before, but the machines would not be made publicly available until safety measures could be put in place.

When Mar, at last, arrived home, he immediately flopped down onto his bedding and sunk into the pillows.

Suddenly, a distinct two-toned sound came from his tablet. It alerted him to the fact that he’d received a message via the application he had been on earlier. He realized that he must have forgotten to turn his tablet to silent mode before giving it to security.

Mustering the willpower to move, Mar dug in his bag and took out his tablet. He had a number of notifications from different apps, but two from the messaging application.

The first, a quarter of an hour old, said, “The Bytes Bit #general DataStorm: @DeepBlue @KoringHoring @IntegratedIntegrale Any of you know about this?” He must not have heard it on his flight to his apartment.

The second, most recent one, said, “The Bytes Bit #general CrystalCircuits: Is that @DeepBlue?”

DeepBlue was the username that Mar used for all of his online interactions. Both of these messages were from his friends’ server. Using the ‘@’ symbol before his username was what triggered the app to notify him. The other two that were mentioned by the first message were the other two Tumenzarians on the server.

He tapped the notification with his claw and released a miniscule discharge to the screen, then repeated the action to unlock his tablet. He found himself greeted by a large number of new messages, as well as a couple of people currently typing on the #general text channel of the server.

He scrolled up to the message that had triggered the first notification. The message immediately prior to that had contained a link to a news article with the title “Tumenzarian Government Seizes Control of Energy-Manipulating Machine Research Project”. Mar decided it would be best read through the messages in chronological order before he attempted a response.

KoringHoring: I did not know of this happening. I was, however, aware of the project’s existence.

DataStorm: These machines sound scary. I wanted to ask you three about it.

BlinkOnce: Didn’t they make international news earlier this year? When they announced that they had a working prototype?

BlinkOnce: I seem to recall you sharing that.

KoringHoring: They did. And I did tell you guys about it.

IntegratedIntegrale: Wasn’t the project funded by Raifal College, a government institution, anyway?

KoringHoring: Yes

NotTechSupport: What’s the fuss about then?

BlinkOnce: Media loves making a fuss over nothing.

BlinkOnce: Fuss gets them clicks. Clicks get them ad revenue.

BucketOfPaint: Is local media covering it?

KoringHoring: I’ll check.

CrystalCircuits: A machine that can manipulate energy sounds pretty cool.

CrystalCircuits: Probably dangerous too.

CrystalCircuits: Might be why their government wants to keep it under control?

KoringHoring: ^

KoringHoring: Local news sources seem to be calmer about it.

She had sent a link to an article with the title, “Beheeraad Neem Direkte Beheer van Narvorsingsprojek om Veiligheidsmatreëls te Implimenteer”.

KoringHoring: Their title says “Council Assumes Direct Control of Research Project to Implement Safety Measures”. It’s rather brief, lacking the speculation of the article @DataStorm sent. It recites what is known of the project, has pictures from today, and quotes what Elder Irikshan said.

BucketOfPaint: Elder?

IntegratedIntegrale: President. We have three of them. One resides in each of our capitals. Decisions are made by them and the council, who are basically parliament.

DataStorm: Why not just call them Presidents and Parliament?

IntegratedIntegrale: Tradition. The dragons love their tradition.

CrystalCircuits sent a picture of Irikshan and Mar descending the stairs, talking to one another while surrounded by several agents. Seeing it from this perspective, Mar became even more embarrassed about his minute size.

CrystalCircuits: Is that @DeepBlue?

DataStorm: Where’s that from?

KoringHoring: It was in my article.

KoringHoring: We’ve got a decent population of Ebonscales here. Seeing the offspring of them and us isn’t too uncommon.

KoringHoring: Though now that I zoom in, it does look like him.

BlinkOnce: Which city is this in? He’s been in Tumenoord studying to control his illusions for…

BlinkOnce: Several months now. Wow, time flies.

KoringHoring: Yeah, that’s Tumenoord. That city is where Elder Irikshan is seated.

IntegratedIntegrale: Didn’t Blue mention a project at some stage?

NotTechSupport: A web search says that Irikshan has illusion abilities. Seems pretty likely that the two would at least have met each other.

BucketOfPaint: Guys, he’s online now. Let him catch up, then you can ask him instead of guessing.

Having finally read all the messages he’d missed, along with taking glances at the articles – the second of which didn’t even refer to him in the caption of the picture in CrystalCircuits had sent, he stopped and thought for some time.

He had shared some details of his life with these people but had refrained from most specifics except for in private messages with the few he was closest to. But there was no point denying that it was him in the article’s picture. They’d figured that out already. And this goofy bunch meant him no harm. If they’d been determined to, they could have figured out his real identity ages ago. And he theirs.

DeepBlue: Yeah, that’s me.

BucketOfPaint: You’re adorable!

DeepBlue: Heeeeey! I’m 34!

NotTechSupport: Has Irikshan been showing you how to do things with your illusions?

DeepBlue: Mine are a bit different than his, but yes. At the college, we get standard group classes where we have to learn and get tested on theory and do some practicals, but we also get assigned mentors to have one-on-one training sessions with. He’s my mentor.

DataStorm: Woah, that’s cool! You get a president as a mentor!

BlinkOnce: Did he take you with to the research team thing?

DeepBlue: No, I was already there. I’m assisting the research team a little.

BlinkOnce: Oh, neat

CrystalCircuits: What’s happening there?

DeepBlue: I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you

DeepBlue: Nah, I’m under an NDA.

DeepBlue: I can’t imagine Irikshan would be happy if I talked about it.

DataStorm: Sounds scary

KoringHoring: The council will tell us what we need to know

DeepBlue: Yeah. It’s not scary.

DataStorm: Say the dragons

NotTechSupport: Just get some self-defence classes if you’re scared. I got some. You can defend your mind even if you aren’t a sensitive

DataStorm: I can’t stop myself from getting electrocuted or set on fire by defending my mind.

NotTechSupport: Not sure about your country, but here I’m probably more likely to get electrocuted or set on fire by mundane causes. The government strictly regulates mages.

BucketOfPaint: Same here

KoringHoring: And there’s sure to be strict regulations and control of these machines too

BlinkOnce: If we even get them

KoringHoring: ?

BlinkOnce: You Tumenzarians export your tech at exorbitant prices, if at all.

BlinkOnce: I’ve read of a few scandals where your council went to great lengths to shut down imitations, knock-offs and leaks of their stuff.

IntegratedIntegrale: Fair enough. The council does like to put their own country first. Like any government.

BlinkOnce: It’s more than that. Whenever I see them in the news, they’re acting as if they think they’re some big wise parental figure. Like all us humans are kids who can’t look after themselves.

DeepBlue: Welp

DeepBlue: I’m going to go take a nap.

DeepBlue: It’s been a long day. Thanks to training this morning, I’m feeling especially tired. If you need me specifically, I’ll answer later.

BlinkOnce: Sleep well, Blue!

DataStorm: Sleep deep

A few others were typing too, but Mar closed the app and turned the sound and vibration of his tablet off. He took off his bags and settled back into his bed. He quickly drifted off to a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

#writing #dragon #mar #elonth #narrative #long story #irikshan #rentik #by me

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