#tales of vesperia whump

[travelling-by-ambulance]

[ormspryde]

Decided to take a crack at Whumpcember because omg I need more whump, so here's a kinda sorta illustration of a fic I wrote for Whumptober where Yeager's sick and Raven's watching over him.

[ID: A sketch of Raven and Yeager from Tales of Vesperia. Yeager is lying in bed with his eyes covered with a cold compress. Raven is looking down at him sadly, brushing his temple with the back of a hand. /ID]

[magicmetslogic]

Title: Out of Sight

Fandom: Tales of Vesperia

Ships/Characters: No ships, but Raven-centric

Chapters/Word Count: One chapter, 3075 words

Rating: M

Warnings: Major Character Death

Summary: The gravel beneath him crumbled, and Raven fell.

It was a simple mistake, a small opening, and one that cost him his life.

I wrote a thing!

It's just Raven whump in which he dies.

[felinisfeloney]

Flynn: I strictly forbid you from giving me further angst over grieving your potentially dead or injured self

Yuri: See, you say that- but FANDOM

[my-star-shine]

The sodia thing will never cease to piss me off. 

[ice-cream-beat]

[Vesperia fic] Grey Areas

summary: It’s the first time Flynn’s seen him come out of a confrontation looking worse than the other guy. [Yuri + Flynn, post-game.]

Ao3 version here

/ / / / /

“Guess I should be grateful they didn’t make a spectacle out of it, huh.” The lighthearted tone is, in itself, where the sarcasm lies. The words don’t reflect any pain or anger -- just cold indifference messily overlapped with disdain, but that’s the most dangerous mindset to come out of someone like Yuri Lowell.

Flynn knows it, at least. His frown manages to deepen even after being permanently set for the last few hours, but he doesn’t answer until he’s sat down on the edge of the bed and set the bucket of water on the floor between his feet. “Small mercies.”

Yuri grunts. The lack of a joke, or at least a jab, is telling. He’s sitting on the floor, elbows on the bed and fingers laced behind his head to hold his hair up. His bloody shirt has been tossed aside, stained more with his pride than anything else; peeling it away from his wounds was messy and clearly painful, but as he said, he refused to be a spectacle. More than likely, Flynn knew, he did so to keep anyone from worrying on his wobbly, assisted trek back to the inn.

The urge is there to reprimand him, to snap at him, to insist that he knows better and could have avoided this if he really wanted, but it’s a passing notion that Flynn easily smothers. Even though it would come from genuine concern on his end, Yuri’s been through enough wordy lectures today. Instead, Flynn just dips a rag in the bucket, wrings it out, and gives a brief word of warning before pressing it gently to the top of Yuri’s back, along the first of (too) many bloody lashes.

The muscles in his friend’s shoulders immediately tense, but he doesn’t make a sound. For a minute they sit in silence, until Flynn goes to wet the rag again.

“Really missing those healing artes right about now,” Yuri quips. It’s probably meant as a quip, anyway, but it mostly comes out as a grumble.

Flynn smiles grimly. “This is the easy part,” he reminds him. “Don’t fall apart on me just yet.” Yuri only snorts, but quietly enough that he doesn’t disturb his injuries. Another pause follows, but it’s a thoughtful one from Flynn. He already knows what Yuri will say, but he tries regardless: “I’m sure Lady Estellise would--”

“Forget it.”

“Yuri--”

“You’d really ask a lady to travel across the country just to patch up some idiot’s slap on the wrist? Tsk, Flynn, you’re gonna sully your good ‘Knight in Shining Armor’ name.”

Flynn doesn’t hide the exasperated scowl in his throat. “ ‘Slap on the wrist?’ At least you’re feeling well enough to act tough.”

“Could’ve been worse.” Yuri’s response is surprisingly serious, but his bangs hide his eyes at this height and Flynn can only guess at his expression. “The way I hear it, some people barely leave that chopping block alive.”

That gives Flynn pause. It’s nothing he hasn’t heard, either, but he can connect the dots in Yuri’s train of thought and he doesn’t like where it’s going. The urge to lecture rises again, but he reminds himself Later and after a moment settles for a flat, “...Guild life, huh.”

Yuri catches the undertone. He tilts his head just enough to look at Flynn proper. “Do something wrong, get caught, get punished? Sounds like life to me, yeah.”

Flynn succeeds in holding back a sigh, but it comes through in his tone regardless. “And since when do you take that lying down?”

“Since someone was quick enough to catch me.” Yuri shifts his weight slightly, wincing. “You know… I was thinking before that you sure picked a fine time to visit Dahngrest. But coincidences aren’t really how a Commandant works.”

“...No, they’re not.”

Yuri waits a few seconds for him to expand on that, but to no avail. He gives Flynn as much of a once-over as he can manage in his position, perhaps just now making better sense of his slightly-more-casual state of dress, particularly the lack of his distinguishing armor. He hums in absent amusement. “White knight, indeed.”

“Shut up.” By now the water has turned murky and the rag’s stained beyond repair. A few of the deeper gashes are still bleeding, but not terribly. Crossing the room, Flynn retrieves a pouch and glass bottle and then sits on the floor this time, directly behind Yuri. “So,” he wonders as he twists the cork to open the vodka, “are you going to tell me why you broke the rules and interfered with another guild?”

“You were at that little mockery of a trial, weren’t you?”

“Long enough to tell you were lying through your teeth.”

“Practicing my right to remain silent isn’t lying.”

This time Flynn does sigh, heavily, as he tilts the contents of the pouch carefully into the bottleneck. He’s still a little skeptical of this remedy, but it’s presumably the best local treatment for such wounds. “I know perfectly well that you’re stubborn to a fault--”

“Look who’s talking.”

“--but the only time you’re that quiet is when you’re hiding something.”

“Ha. Nice shot.”

“Who were you covering for, Yuri?” For a long moment the only sound is the quiet swish of liquid as Flynn swirls the bottle, making sure the herbs mix in well with the alcohol. “...Fine, forget who. But can I ask why?” Yuri still doesn’t answer.

Pulling the clean towel from his shoulder, Flynn doubles it over to douse it with the strong-smelling mixture. He moves onto one knee and braces his left arm across Yuri’s shoulders -- not to pin him, but to help absorb some of his movement. “This is going to hurt. Get ready.”

Yuri’s general disposition and high pain threshold are only partially helpful: he goes rigid when the towel’s applied to his back, his jaw setting tightly to strangle his shout into a snarl. Flynn waits for him to ride it out, and then gives him a couple minutes to recover before doing the same to the lower part of his torso.

“Y��know--” Yuri pants, his voice strained, “it’s not so bad -- when I think -- this is all just -- overdue. Kind of a… rite of passage.” Flynn spares him a puzzled glance, wondering if the pain’s really so bad that he’s actually delirious, but Yuri’s dropped his head forward onto the mattress. He chuckles darkly. “Heh… karma catching up to me, I guess… Finally…”

Flynn goes still. As much as he wants to rebuke that, he forces himself to stay silent, for now, and focus on the task at hand. Not until minutes later, after he’s carefully patted Yuri dry as well as he’s able and started wrapping him with bandages, does he speak.

“You know... if you weren’t already miserable, Yuri, I’d kick your ass.”

Yuri snickers skeptically from where he’s still facedown in the bed, but it’s a dead sound.

“It’s one thing if you took the fall for someone because you thought it was the right thing to do. But if you did this thinking you deserved it--” He stops before his voice can get too loud or too hot -- but Yuri says nothing during the pause, gives no indication that his guess is wrong or at least slightly off the mark, and that hurts in more ways than Flynn can count.

So even now, the reality of his past and actions still weigh on Yuri's mind. It's a bitter sort of relief; it's preferable to his feeling nothing at all, Flynn thinks -- total apathy would be the biggest cause for alarm, the most obvious warning that the Yuri he knows isn’t the Yuri he’s known -- but this isn’t good, either.

But then, it’s easy for Flynn to say that one feeling is better than another when he isn’t the one in bloody tatters, or the one bearing that guilt.

(At least, not that kind of guilt. As self-righteous as he figures it probably sounds, he does still carry the dark, what-if thoughts reminding him that he did nothing to help Yuri with that burden.)

His sigh is a gentle one this time. He lightly presses a fist against Yuri’s lower back, away from any risk of agitating a wound, in a gesture meant to ground his thoughts as well as emphasize his presence. “Yuri. The purpose of the law and its sentences isn’t to punish those who do wrong -- it’s to protect those who would suffer because of them. Punishments serve as a deterrent to selfish ways of thinking; they’re a warning to those who would harm others, and a way of changing or removing those who already have, in the best interest of the people at large. Justice is fair, not petty.”

Yuri still doesn’t respond, so Flynn goes on, “You know better than anyone that life isn’t black and white. But going out and looking for punishment over something you can’t change isn’t justice. It’s just trying to make yourself feel better.” His hand falls away and he climbs to his feet. “And it’s a pretty crappy way of doing it.” As tempted as he is to say more, he refrains. Yuri’s already a mess, probably inside as well as out, and there’s no need to pile it on too thick. For now, at least.

He gathers the used supplies and begins cleaning up the small mess. The silence lasts about half a minute.

“...Hey.”

He turns to see Yuri watching him -- still looking beat and exhausted and pretty pathetic, but at least he managed to turn his head. “Do me a favor,” he asks.

“What’s that?”

“I’m too tired to punch you properly, so please, kindly hit your face against my fist and save me the trouble.” When Flynn shoots him a skeptical look, Yuri rolls his face back into the mattress with a mumble. “I hate when you lecture. I especially hate it when you win arguments.”

Flynn’s smile is a wry one. “Someone has to keep your ego in check.”

“Funny.” After another long moment, Yuri looks at him again. “...Look, don’t go blowing this up into a bigger deal than it is. I had a reason for doing what I did. The karma thing… well, it crossed my mind at the time, but it wasn’t the only reason.”

“It shouldn’t be any rea--”

“I know, I know. You’re right,” Yuri interrupts wearily. “I mean, just don’t get it in your head that I’m gonna make a habit out of this. Not enough skin on my back for that.”

Flynn grunts lightly. “As long as you’re aware.”

“Yes, sir.” Yuri’s sarcasm fades as he adds, “...Hey. Thanks, though.”

Now Flynn’s smile is genuine, although still teasing. “For the lecture?”

“Eh. Could’ve been shorter and more eloquent. But I appreciate the effort.”

Shaking his head, Flynn goes to sit down on the bed again. “Right--”

“Agh!”

Flynn’s on his feet again in a heartbeat. “Sorry! I didn’t--”

“Heh. You’re so easy.”

“Dammit, Yuri--”

[delkios]

Power Through (ToV)

Back when I first started playing around with ideas for a hockey AU I'd written a number of snippets for it of which this originally started out as. Then, because I liked the idea enough to want to turn this snippet into a standalone for Fluri Week, I tacked on 3500+ more words. Between that, work, and being horrible ill for over a week, I didn't get to finish much else for the week :/ Title: Power Through Fandom: Tales of Vesperia Rating: PG-13 for language Word Count: 4388 In Responds to: Fluri Week 2019: Whump Wednesday Characters: Flynn, Yuri, Zagi, Estelle, minor appearances by others Summary: Hockey AU. Zagi wants Yuri's attention but Yuri won't give his former teammate the time of day. Flynn gets caught in the middle.

AO3 Dreamwidth

[fontasticcrablettes]

okay but, a whump Vesperia Veggie Tales AU

Ok so I never watched Veggie Tales growing up.  All I know is it’s about vegetables who act out bible stories?  So instead of that I’m going to tell a fun story that is sort of related and involved Flynn as a carrot whump. 

So my best friend Lynx is a chef.  A few years ago she was doing an internship in a kitchen and picked up a vegetable shredder thing to shred some carrots (julienne them? I’ll sure she’ll pop up to correct me).   She was slicing away at it for a bit until she paused, inspected, poked the blade and, and then asked the chef, “Would this also work on human skin?”

The chef was a bit disconcerted at this.  “Uh... probably.”

“Oh neat,” she said, and then pulled out her phone to take a picture of it.  When she saw the chef watching in confusion, she explained, “My friend will want to know about this.”

Surprisingly, this did not alleviate his concerns.  

So she sent me this picture of the julienner stripping the carrot into little strips and suggested I use it on Flynn, because she knows me very well.  I never did write that fic, but another friend of mine was inspired and wrote a very gruesome fic about someone carving up Yuri with one of those, so it all worked out in the end.

[sylphwriter]

Killer Intent

Tales Whump Week

Day 1 Prompt: Wounds Warning: Violence and blood. I’m posting excerpts from my in progress work on rewriting my fic, Fairy Tales and Brave Vesperia. So anyone interested can enjoy a sneak peek at what to expect, but otherwise it should stand alone without familiarity with my work just fine.

Flynn’s door burst inwards with a splintering crack, smashing into the wall and shuddering as it sagged at a broken looking angle. Two gouges slanted across the door, marked by the force that had blown it in. Estellise shrieked at the sudden, violent intrusion.

Revealed beyond the door was a man with wildly bright red and yellow hair and a threatening presence. Feet placed wide apart and upper body slightly hunched over, his arms were still stretched out to the sides and restlessly turning the long, curved daggers in them over and over. Estellise couldn’t help but gasp at the fresh blood flicking from them with each movement. While the tough jerkin and the skintight black suit under it were too dark in color to tell for certain, they also bore spots that gleamed wetly in the light from the city’s barrier and the moon.

Lowering his arms to hang more loosely, but still spinning the daggers about his fingers and wrists by their circular handles, the intruder stalked forward into the room with a manic grin spreading as his eyes skipped over Estellise to fix on Yuri. “Prepare to fall victim to my blade,” he hissed, shoulders lowering into an even more hunched stance that mimicked a feral beast ready to lunge forward. One arm snapped out to the side and the dagger held in it shattered a water pitcher left next to a wash basin.

“Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?” That Yuri could speak so calmly, sound unimpressed even, was almost as much of a shock to Estellise as the dawning realization of what this threatening man was.

Snarling a bit at the cavalier attitude, the man glared at Yuri. “I am Zagi. The man who will end your life,” he promised. He sprang forward, sawing a dagger through the air on level with Yuri’s throat. “Now die, Flynn Scifo!”

“Hey!” Kicking a foot up under the arm reaching out a blade towards him, Yuri’s boot landed firmly against the would be assassin’s chest fended him off. Shoving off, Yuri staggered his assailant and pushed himself back across the table. Grabbing the edge with a hand, Yuri swung his legs across the tabletop and back onto the floor with the table between them. He didn’t lose any more time in dragging the sheath off his own sword. “You’ve got the wrong guy!”

This was ignored. “Die!” Zagi’s legs bent and he sprang forward onto the table with the fluid ease of hunting cats. He dove right at Yuri again, slashing his arm across with the dagger held parallel to his outer arm, ready to rip into Yuri with the razor edge and protecting his own arm at once.

It clashed off Yuri’s own sword and he grunted, “You really should listen a little more!”

Zagi followed the motion of his arm in a fast spin, bringing the second arm and dagger across with even greater momentum and his full weight. Yuri grimaced and let himself fall to the ground, Zagi almost right on top of him. The floor was just the support Yuri needed to brace against to slam both feet into Zagi’s stomach and send him flying over and across the room.

Zagi twisted his body in the air and succeeded in not colliding with the wall headfirst. His leading shoulder and back still smacked against it hard, but he spun away from the stone and rolled his head to an unnerving angle as he leered at Yuri. “Yes… Remember my name well, Flynn!”

“Listen, I’m not Flynn!” Yuri insisted on trying to get it through this maniac’s head. He quickly rolled over and pushed himself up with one hand.

With a cackle the assassin lunged forward again. Damn he was fast! Yuri barely had time to read where those daggers would be and get his sword up in time. There was an instant when he could clearly see the unhinged gleam in Zagi’s eyes and rictus grin right before they vanished. A flash of light to his peripheral was all the warning Yuri had to dive away from, the light from outside giving away the dagger aiming for the side of his neck by pure chance. He got away with just a deep slice across his upper arm.

Zagi cackled. “Oh, what’s wrong?” he crooned mockingly. He swayed in place, holding off on resuming the attack to lift the dagger with Yuri’s blood on it before his eyes in fascination. Sticking out his tongue he drew it along the side of the blade, tasting it and the blood.

The sight sickened Yuri. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” This guy was so far gone he was on a level leagues worse than the worst scum preying in the lower quarter.

That dagger was directed to point at Yuri. “I’m gonna kill you and carve your name into my blood!” Zagi exulted.

Street scum were cute compared to this guy. “Yeah, that’s pretty disgusting.” This wasn’t a situation where he could aim to knock his opponent out and move on. The only way to deal with this psycho was to be prepared to kill him.

Zagi dashed in again head on, breaking to the side again when Yuri’s sword angled to block his charge. It didn’t work a second time, Yuri’s sword dipping back over his shoulder to catch and turn it aside. Not even slowing, Zagi circled to his other side with another spin and attacked with his other dagger from the opposite angle. Yuri’s fist rose and clocked him across the jaw, spinning him away instead.

Yuri pursued him, tossing his sword to his other hand and stabbing for Zagi’s chest. “Oh yeah,” Zagi moaned, “this is gonna be fun!” The crazed fighter didn’t even try to block it, driving back in close with both daggers leading, letting the edge of Yuri’s longer sword slide under his arm and right up against his ribs in a long cut. Too close; Yuri didn’t have the room or leverage to get the force to cut any deeper before those daggers would cut out his own neck. He had to snap out an arm to shove off Zagi’s shoulder and jump back, taking more cuts along his arm in the process.

The cut along Zagi’s ribs was bleeding freely, but if anything that seemed to excite him more. “Ahh, now I feel it.”

“You feel what?” Yuri asked, thinking that talking might buy a few extra seconds or distract this guy. “I’m not feeling anything over here.”

Zagi threw his head back and arms wide, laughing madly as he shouted, “That’s it! That’s it! Now I feel truly alive!” His eyes fixed on Yuri again, wide and white in the dark, and he looked even more focused. A split second and he flew from his off balance state of euphoria into another charge, little more than a blur Yuri could hardly track.

Taking a chance on it, Yuri used his blastia and sent an Azure Edge to meet Zagi. Unfortunately Zagi had no problem dodging to the side of the linear attack, leaping up onto a chair in the process. From there he pounced through the air, coming down on Yuri from above again. Yuri rolled forward and under Zagi, pivoting while still in a crouch to send another Azure Edge. It clipped the edge of the loop of strap hanging off the assassin’s shoulder but did no other damage to him. It was much more devastating to Flynn’s table though. A split cut halfway through it.

Estellise had been in shock as the implications of the blood on this person and his claims sank in. This was the assassin, and while Flynn wasn’t endangered for the time being, other people had been already. This very moment Flynn’s friend was in danger! “Yuri, let me help you!” She scrambled to retrieve the sword and buckler she’d set down by the door.

Did this girl want to get herself killed? “Stay out of this!” Yuri snapped, trying to keep up with the ferocious barrage.

“But-!” she hesitated.

The only warning she had was this Zagi person turning his disturbingly wide grin on her before he lashed out at her with a blade. Her lessons from Sir Drake came to good use; her thoughts scattered in shock for a fearful second but her body still moved as she’d been taught.

Her buckler lifted to catch the blade, angled to deflect it away rather than hold the brunt of the force and weight. And in return she thrust her own sword to damage or force her assailant back. Zagi’s second blade was already following up, and part of her thoughts caught up to the moment to realize; if he hadn’t avoided Yuri’s attack earlier in favor of trying to land a hit anyway then her own sword was not a reliable deterrent. She changed its course to intercept the second dagger, buckler and sword now both occupied keeping both daggers at bay.

For a second she was locked into place, staring into Zagi’s face. That twisted grin of bared teeth coupled with the feverish glare of his eyes, they horrifically reminded her of artist depictions of monsters said to be the most voluntarily turned to man eaters when given opportunity. Or the demons in old tales handed down to scare little children.

Zagi’s red eyes barely flickered away from her and then he was a flash of movement diving to the side. Yuri’s sword swished through the air where Zagi’s head had just been, and he took the assassin’s retreat as opportunity to place himself between Estelle and Zagi again.

Unable to spare the attention to take his eyes from the crazed lunatic cackling by the splintered table, Yuri turned his head only a fraction to call back to the girl behind him. “If things get out of hand, run for it.”

“I will,” she agreed, voice steady. He couldn’t help a slight grin of his own. For a noble she held up under that attack well. Just because he believed her when she said she could use that sword didn’t mean Yuri hadn’t expected her to faint or cry in a real fight.

“Oh, don’t give up so soon!” Zagi goaded them, “I haven’t had a fight like this in years!” With another mad laugh he added with evident relish, “This is fun!” He raised a hand and then smashed his dagger down across the damaged table, snapping it in half along the earlier cut. With a quick spin he snapped a leg out and kicked half the collapsing table at Yuri and the girl.

Smashing it out of the air with another Azure Edge was possible, but not worth the energy and the mess of flying debris it would make of the table. “Move!” he barked instead, breaking to the side. The noble did too without much delay.

But she went the other direction.

Split up now, it made the downside of this choice of action harder to deal with. Zagi would easily predict where they’d move and would be ready to pounce on one of them. Yuri had no worries he could handle that, but the assassin was lunging again for the noble girl who’d butt in on the fight.

The girl’s eyes flew wide in surprise and she fell back several steps in retreat. But she wasn’t running thoughtlessly; before Zagi got too close she drew on the blastia artfully incorporated into her elegant gloves. Aer fueled energy slid down her blade to coalesce into a glittering spark on the tip that, much like the Azure Edge taught among the Knights, she propelled straight ahead with a quick slash of her sword.

But like with Azure Edge, Zagi didn’t have much difficulty avoiding the oncoming Star Stroke. In point of fact, there was less speed and force behind it than Yuri’s own attacks. But for the moment Zagi was distracted.

Another Azure Edge connected with Zagi from the side, catching him right where he had swerved to avoid Estelle’s arte. He crashed and tumbled across the floor towards the broken door, jerkin and tight black under suit ripped and shredded up the side and arm. With no mind to the pain he should be feeling, the assassin sprang right back up and shook it off, feet already kicking off the floor to pounce right back in.

Yuri wasn’t about to give him that time. He rushed in to meet Zagi, hearing the chime of a blastia activating a spell and a whoosh behind him. Golden sparkling light enveloped Yuri’s sword just before it clashed against one of Zagi’s daggers again. The dagger chipped, cracked, and broke in two, Yuri’s sword cleaving right through. In the instant of shock before Zagi could reevaluate his style of attack, Yuri used his free arm to fend off the second dagger by bashing against Zagi’s forearm and angled his sword down to pierce through Zagi’s leg.

With a strangled cry Zagi dropped the broken dagger and directly grabbed Yuri’s blade with his own hand, adding more blood running down it as he yanked it back out. He twisted his other arm to try and saw down the length of Yuri’s guarding arm with the edge of the whole dagger. Yuri pulled away, but not before his own arm was opened with a deep cut from shoulder to elbow.

They both fell away from each other, holding their latest injuries. Yuri grit his teeth against the pain, it would get even worse once there wasn’t any adrenaline in the way. Now he wished he’d pocketed a few more of those gels earlier.

Well that hadn’t been the best trade off. But Yuri could fight with just one arm when the need came to it. And that bleeding hole in Zagi’s thigh was gonna slow the assassin down at last. Still had the feeling this wouldn’t be enough to deter the assassin’s crazed bloodlust though. Zagi was panting but between breaths he kept laughing insanely, muttering, “You’re strong, heh. Good, Flynn, you’re good…!”

“You’ve got the wrong guy,” Yuri almost shouted at him with frustration. “Aren’t you supposed to know this stuff?”

“He’s not Flynn!” Estellise tried to add in, but Zagi was already growling dismissal, “Details, details! Bring it!” He raised his remaining dagger and held his other hand up with fingers stiffened into claws.

“Flynn sure has made some interesting enemies,” Yuri muttered.

At that moment a shadow outside Flynn’s open door seemed to move and peel away. A new figure slipped into the room behind Zagi with unnatural silence, the long and heavy dark blue coat he wore made it difficult to tell his outline from the darkness of the hall. The hood was pulled up and further blurred the impression to just a humanoid shape. It also hid half of his face, although the way his jaw and lower nose were visible before abruptly becoming shadowed could be a sign of a black mask. One with red lenses fixed into it, glowing ominously in the barrier light through the window.

Most importantly, by Yuri’s judgement, was the kris styled knives fastened to the back of the newcomer’s gloves or wrists, sticking out past the long sleeves. Reinforcements. Now that he was looking for it, he could maybe see more shadows moving outside. Damn, hopefully the noble girl could find an opening to escape if Yuri could just draw them away from the door. He didn’t think she’d be very good at taking the window.

Instead of jumping into the fight and overwhelming them by sheer numbers, the red eyed intruder slunk up next to Zagi. “Zagi, we’re leaving,” he hissed with a harsh whisper. “The knights are onto us.”

Zagi’s face twisted into a silent snarl. His unarmed hand balled into a fist and blindly struck back, hitting his ally across the face. The red eyed one reeled at the blow before catching himself. His own snarl at Zagi looked all the more monstrous with the glowing red lenses and otherwise hidden face.

“Mind your own business!” Zagi’s rage abruptly reverted back to that manic glee as he cackled. “I’m just getting to the best part!”

The newcomer didn’t back off, standing his ground even with one hand pressing to his nose. Blood was dripping from it. “Hurry, before the knights get here. Or would you rather your fun end today?”

Rage filled Zagi’s face as he glared back at the hooded man. Yuri saw his grip on the remaining dagger tighten before Zagi turned on his good leg. The dagger swept an arc through the air and tore through the man’s throat. The girl gave a strangled shriek as with a gurgle the red eyed man grabbed for his neck helplessly, more blood running over his hands. Zagi didn’t stop there, pulling his dagger side to side in several more strokes before the unlucky bastard even dropped to his knees.

Yuri didn’t even try to stop him, backing away as far as he could and making sure the noble girl was safely behind him. A few more steps and they could be at the window.

Zagi stopped brutalizing the corpse, letting it fall forward on its face. In the stillness he straightened to full height for the first time, turning enough to look back at Yuri and the girl from over his shoulder. When he made direct eye contact with Yuri, Zagi gave the slightest smile, all the more eerie for its serene calm after the assassin had been anything but that this whole time.

Then he limped through the door, injured leg the barest drag on his pace. The shadows of other compatriots waiting outside all withdrew before he got in striking distance of them.

x x x

“That was the target, wasn’t it?” one of the Red Eyes faction whispered to another as they slipped silently through the halls of the castle to their marked departure point. They’d already set a distraction in place to draw patrols away from the spot. “Why didn’t we just finish him?”

“Shut up,” the other assassin hissed back. “If Zagi even thinks you’ll steal his prey from him, you’ll be the next one breathing through a new hole in your neck.”

“Then how do we know for sure that was the right one?”

The more experienced member reasoned, “It was Flynn Scifo’s room, who else could it have been?”

They glanced up ahead at Zagi’s back, waiting for a moment if the talented but volatile special agent would bother to answer. If he wasn’t off in his own headspace again, he should’ve heard everything they said.

An unpleasant giggle drifted back, not really a good indicator either way. But then Zagi said aloud, “Of course that man is our prey… Finally, a worthy fight!”

“Well there you go,” the veteran muttered to the newer member. “Must be Flynn Scifo.”

Up ahead Zagi had begun smiling to himself. What did it matter if that man was or was not Flynn Scifo? If Zagi crossed paths with him again, he would see if this wonderful reminder in his leg was only a fluke, or if he’d finally met a worthy match.

Nobody had faced him without fear in their eyes for a long time.

[travelling-by-ambulance]

Just a small compilation of hurt Flynn and Yuri in Tales of Vesperia

[travelling-by-ambulance]

stageplay version of Zaude you will always be famous

[felinisfeloney]

How to describe it was difficult to impossible because they weren’t sure what it was that had caught them. It called itself a Craftsman and a Collector. Said it liked pretty things- said they were pretty. There’s a mountain of uncertainty on how they reached this point and how they’ll escape- if they escape.

Day 2: Missing

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[sylphwriter]

Wilting of the Blessed Tree

Tales Whump Week

Day 6: Deprived I’m posting excerpts from my in progress work on rewriting my fic, Fairy Tales and Brave Vesperia. So anyone interested can enjoy a sneak peek at what to expect, but otherwise it should stand alone without familiarity with my work just fine.

“Halure…” Estelle breathed in quiet wonder. “The ‘City of Blossoms.’”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Karol nodded, although he sounded disheartened. No need to ask why.

There wasn’t much blossoming about this city. If anything, “withered” came to mind.

The famous landmark of Halure was the outrageously huge tree the entire city had been constructed around. As the source of the city’s barrier it was the exact center of everything, with the construction of buildings sprawling over its roots as naturally as if they were hills and slopes. Some houses were more deeply integrated, standing arches of the roots threaded through spaces made in walls to let them pass through, coming out from a different side. Those roots were so thick that they were probably making up entire sides of some buildings and even the thinnest were like support pillars. But as the name implied, usually the most striking thing was the mass of flowers that were said to outnumber the leaves on the tree, petals ever drifting down to blanket the farthest reaches of the town below.

But there were no flowers on the tree or even blowing around on a stray breeze. There were shriveled clumps covering the branches instead; dark and splotchy purple interspersed with dried browns. Whenever the wind blew and shook the tree this ugly foliage rattled and dropped dead leaves, dried to the point of curling up into little cones and tubes with their sides touching. Reminded Yuri of the husks insects would shed and leave behind.

“What happened to the barrier here?” Yuri asked.

“Yes, there should be one…” Estelle squinted against the morning light as she peered up into the tree.

“You guys haven’t been to Halure before, right?” Karol checked with them. Estelle turned her curious attention to him but Yuri only spared half a glance as they followed the well beaten path they’d come across. Most of the swordsman’s apparent focus was on the outskirts of the city as they were reaching it. Well, at least one of them was listening. “Haven’t you heard about the tree barrier?”

Estelle nodded with confidence and spoke as if by rote. “‘Some blastia fuse to plant life, gain organic qualities and evolve.’ The tree barrier of Halure is one prime example of this. I read that in a book,” she added by way of explanation to Karol.

“Well thank you, professor,” Yuri quipped, proving he was listening. He glanced back over at Karol again. “So what’s happened to this famous barrier?” He frowned as he took note now of the city people; almost everyone he could see out and about wore bandages and splints, some stained red or the dark brown of dried blood. And these injured people were rushing everywhere in a hurry, always carrying more bandages or shouting urgently ahead. Add this to the disturbing number of fresh dirt mounds they had passed not too long before… “Doesn’t look like it’s doing much right now.”

“Every year, just before the blossoms are in full bloom, the barrier weakens for a while,” Karol eagerly explained to him, although the sight of the injured dampened his spirits. It was worse than just a shame that the people here had the bad luck that this happened to them. But it was just the reality everyone knew and lived with, especially those in the towns and places that had no barriers. The people of Halure were always on guard during the times their barrier weakened. “It’s just that time of year right now, and the monsters took the opportunity to attack…”

Yuri pressed for the details. “Is that when the barrier went down?”

“Yeah,” Karol looked down as he scuffed the dirt with his boot as he remembered. He and Nan and the other Hunting Blades with them hadn’t been there for much of the fight. They arrived when most of the survivors had been chased off, while there were still loads of monster bodies piled up where they’d been dragged away. The trails of their bloodstains ran frighteningly far into the city streets. “The monsters were taken care of, but the tree is slowly starting to decay.”

From the corner of his eye he glimpsed a blur of dark brown clothes and hair sprinting past him, jostling his shoulder. His mind was a bit slow to process the instant before the realization clicked. That had been a girl only an inch or two taller than him, with a brighter colored shawl draped around her shoulders and yellow sash around her waist. “Hey!” he exclaimed, making Estelle jump without noticing. That had to be Nan! And if she was so mad she didn’t even take a moment to acknowledge him-

“W-what is it?” Estelle asked, pink hair swinging as she looked around anxiously, trying to see what had prompted his outburst.

Karol picked up the pace and kicked up clouds of dust with his feet, scrabbling not to trip and fall over himself. “Sorry, I’ve gotta run! Bye!” he shouted back to them as he ran down the side street he thought he’d seen Nan disappear into.

“Does that kid ever sit still?” Yuri wondered aloud. With all that stuff hanging off of him, you’d think he’d get tired out a lot faster.

Estelle gave a soft little gasp.

Yuri shrugged off Karol’s spontaneous antics. “So I guess you’ll be looking for Flynn now, huh,” he started turning to Estelle only to see her run the other way. “Estelle?” Her full skirts billowed like a white cloud and she dropped to her knees by an older man slumped against one of the large roots, a concerned woman looking up from where she knelt by his side at the noble’s arrival. Yuri could see her mouth moving as she answered some question and then Estelle was holding her hands out over the man’s legs, healing formula shining into being over them.

Does she not understand what keeping a low profile means? He shook his head. As long as we don’t get a full repeat of what happened in Deidon Hold.

Halure was an imperial city but he didn’t see any knights around. Maybe there was a regular outpost here and they all had their hands full dealing with the injured and planning defense to worry about traffic from strangers. That’s what Yuri hoped at least. If he found out there weren’t any stationed here, even just for this apparently regular period of danger, he’d be mighty tempted to take a detour to knock some heads.

“Hey, Repede,” he said to the dog. Repede turned his head to look at Yuri with his good eye, and Yuri just tipped his own head in the direction Estelle had gone in. “Do you mind? I’m gonna look for a store and ask around a bit.” Repede yawned, pipe teetering on his teeth and almost managing to fall free before his jaws snapped shut on it. With that he ambled off after their wayward noble, who was already hurrying off after another set of concerned looking citizens leading her somewhere.

That was fine, Yuri decided. Estelle might end up stumbling across Flynn by accident. Knowing that busybody, if he was still here he’d be in the thick of things, organizing something, maybe even the care for the wounded.

Another skill of Flynn’s that Yuri just wasn’t that great with. When the action was already over and done with, there wasn’t all that much left Yuri could do himself. Well, at least that meant it wasn’t hard to think of what he could do. On the way to Halure they had hardly used any of the gels, he could trade some of the spares for food. People here needed the medicine more than their own little group probably would.

[sylphwriter]

Rita’s History

Tales Whump Week

Day 5: Sick I’m posting excerpts from my in progress work on rewriting my fic, Fairy Tales and Brave Vesperia. So anyone interested can enjoy a sneak peek at what to expect, but otherwise it should stand alone without familiarity with my work just fine.

Estelle seemed to really enjoy the breeze and spray in the ocean air as the Fiertia sailed. She was spending a lot of time standing by the rail, eyes sometimes closed and taking long, slow breaths. Any time Rita looked up from her book the princess had a contented smile on her face. Rita almost missed that was smiling a bit herself, each time she looked back down to the pages of her book.

But she definitely hadn’t come up on deck to spend time with Estelle, she just wanted some better light to read by!

…Was what she’d tell anyone if they asked. Truth was, Estelle had been so obviously shaken up by that enormous flying monster calling her an “insipid poison,” and it was a bit of a relief to see some of her good cheer coming back.

“It’s so peaceful out on the water,” Estelle said wonderingly. She turned and directed her smile at Rita, sitting on one of the crates stacked a few feet from the rail. “Don’t you think so, Rita?”

“It’s just a whole lot of water and nothing,” Rita sniffed.

“I suppose that’s why it’s so calming to watch,” Estelle commented, unbothered by Rita’s customary abrasive way of speaking. “Just watching the way the waves move…you start thinking about and remembering a lot of things.”

Estelle folded her hands on the rail and tipped her head back, gazing up at the clear blue sky. “Until I met Yuri, I spent my whole life in the castle. There were things I couldn’t do, and at all times I had to behave in a manner becoming of my station or I’d be scolded by my tutors.”

“You still act like perfect miss noble if you ask me,” Rita said bluntly.

This only made Estelle smile and giggle lightly. “But it’s because I want to. And everyone accepts me as ‘Estelle,’ whether I’m a princess or I’m me. I’m so glad I had the chance to leave the castle and meet everyone.”

Rita slumped back against a crate and lifted her book a bit higher, hiding her face from Estelle’s line of sight. Somehow she was feeling all mushy and flustered and she’d hate it if it was showing on her face. “Well, good for you I guess.”

“It’s funny though,” Estelle said musingly. “I don’t regret my journey at all, and I already chose not to go back to the castle, but I do miss it. I keep remembering little things I took for granted before, and how I had so many happy memories too!”

“Well you had every luxury possible there,” Rita reasoned. “Most people would love to be in your place. Not me though, I’d feel like I’d suffocate there. I’d much rather be left alone with my research.”

“Like you were when we met you in Aspio,” Estelle recalled. “You said you’ve been researching there since you were ten, but where did you live before that?”

Rita’s heart stopped momentarily as her stomach plunged. “Just some boring old farming town on the Mayoccia Plains. There’s absolutely nothing there but fields. It’s close to the capitol so it’s easy for the Knights to protect, and they occasionally send examiners to see if any of the children have talents useful to the Empire. Send them to school and hire them once they’re done.”

“But you started your research right away?”

Rita didn’t bother with false modesty. It was only the truth after all. “Well obviously, I already knew more than most of the teachers they had, so it would’ve been a waste of time.”

“Do you ever miss your home town?” Estelle’s curiosity took on a wistful note. “Don’t you have family there?”

“No,” Rita answered flatly. She scowled at the diagram in her book. “There’s nothing I care about there.”

The Empire had been willing to pay any expense to get their hands on promising up and coming mages. And it wasn’t like Rita had minded the idea of spending her life working for it-having the freedom and materials to study blastia and pursue the answer to all the questions she had was worth it. But as a child with no say of her own, it had been her parents that the examiners had to convince.

And convince them they did, by offering a sum of monetary compensation. Then all those protests that they couldn’t possibly bear to be parted from their beloved girl just dried up. They sent her the occasional letter for the first couple of years, but always said basically the same thing. Work hard so the Imperial Blastia Research Laboratory wouldn’t decide to send her away. Rita had eventually found out that her parents received annual stipends for her work, since she was considered too young to have full control over her salary and savings.

The moment Rita got a promotion with some good authority behind it, she went and threw some intimidation and an appropriate level of respect into the records and finances clerks to get that nonsense straightened out.

Rita didn’t miss her hometown one bit. She’d never once gone back to visit. As far as she was concerned she had no family worth visiting.

In a dark mood over being forced to remember all those disgusting facts, Rita slid off the edge of her crate. “The salt is making me feel all gross,” she muttered. “I’m going to read inside.” And she beat a hasty retreat to some privacy before Estelle could ask anything else.

[sylphwriter]

The Hunters’ Goal

Tales Whump Week

Day 4: Accident I’m posting excerpts from my in progress work on rewriting my fic, Fairy Tales and Brave Vesperia. So anyone interested can enjoy a sneak peek at what to expect, but otherwise it should stand alone without familiarity with my work just fine.

“The poor girl. What a terrible thing to happen, and to one so young!”

Mount Temza was a barren place. Though it was known a krityan city used to stand up near the top, it had been ruined and abandoned ever since the Great War. Nobody came this way anymore and the paths up the mountain had fallen into disrepair.

Being the smallest, lightest member present, Nan took the lead in scouting the trail to check for danger and unstable footing. Tison went as well; although he was a lot heavier than Nan’s small frame he had the training and light footwork to handle himself best if something happened. And should monsters besides their target be waiting along the trail, they were well practiced at watching each other’s backs.

A scuffing of dirt sent them both into guard positions, the party behind them going tense in anticipation of danger or, for some, the chance to see their elite in action. Nan prepared to launch her crescent boomerang at whatever came out from behind the pile of rocks the noise had come from.

What came out was a woman. Nan’s head jerked up and she pulled back hard to abort the initial surge forward she’d begun at the sight of movement, redirecting the momentum with a swing of her boomerang around herself and planting one pointed end into the ground. “This area is under the jurisdiction of the Hunting Blades! Until we’ve hunted our target, no one is-” the official speech died as Nan recognized the figure before them. “Wait-you…!”

It was a krityan woman with indigo hair piled up on her head, dressed in blue and white with a spear made out of a dragon’s tooth in hand. Nan recalled seeing this woman in Nordopolica. More importantly, the reports the Hunting Blades had all connected her to the monster they were hunting. In all likelihood, she was that dragon rider who had thwarted one of their hunts before! “Ally of monsters!” Nan spat.

“I see,” the woman said calmly. “So that’s why you’re here. Well then…” She shifted the spear, it’s haft landing within her other hand as she leaned into a ready stance. “I will not allow any of you to pass!” she declared, voice projecting an unwavering determination.

“How can you side with monsters?!” Nan cried out in frustration.

“What does it matter?” Tison snarled, launching himself for the woman. If it were anyone else, trying to get into close range with a spear wielder would’ve been suicidal, but with Tison’s dexterity he slipped around the sharp tooth of the spearhead with ease. Using a backswing of a toughened forearm he batted the spear shaft away before it could be swung across.

The woman sprang off the ground and whipped a leg across for his jaw. Her heel smacked into the palm of Tison’s hand-but the butt of the spear was jabbing back to smash his face. He flung her foot away from him, throwing off her spin and with that redirecting the path of the spear. The krityan landed on both of her feet, one hand slapping the ground to keep from over balancing as she kept the spear ready and between them.

In that brief lull of combat the front wave of the accompanying Hunting Blades members rushed in, shouting to overwhelm her with numbers. Nan grit her teeth, such tactics didn’t suit her style or weapon, but they weren’t to her tastes much anyway. Regardless, she wasn’t going to lose sight of their real target and job.

Ducking around the edges of the mob trying to keep up with the woman-she leaped and spun about with the grace of a butterfly and the fierce swiftness of a hunting bird of prey-Nan caught at Tison’s sleeve and dragged him back from the fray. “What?” he snapped, impatience and the excitement of the hunt bringing his temper to a boiling point.

“Don’t lose sight of the mission,” Nan reprimanded him.

“I’m not letting some worthless friend of monsters walk away free!” he argued.

“She won’t,” Nan promised. “Either the others will deal with her, or they’ll keep her busy while we take care of the real evil.”

Tison’s mouth twisted up in a deep scowl, muscles in his jaw jumping at how hard he clenched his teeth. With a harsh breath out he grunted, “Fine.”

His word given, Nan turned away and slipped out of the fight, trusting he’d be right on her heels. They’d go off the main path, climb the rocks and mountain by hand if they had to, and get around from another direction. The woman would have to search the mountain for them if she still wanted to interfere, and they’d find the monster long before she caught up to them.

As long as they killed the monster, Nan didn’t care what else happened.

“You’re two full days behind schedule. What happened?”

“The caravan was attacked by monsters on the road. We lost some of our companions before they could be chased off.”

“Didn’t you have guards? I thought the new president of Fortune’s Market never spared expense on hiring protection.”

“Of course we did, we’d all have died if that weren’t the case. Monsters are just getting that terrifying lately.”

“And what about this girl?”

Numb, Nan had listened to the words passing above her head without really hearing them. She sat next to the caravan’s head on his wagon, hugging her knees to her and staring at the ears of the horse hitched to it. Medicine had been applied to its back and wrapped with bandages, their slow progress had resulted from a reluctance to push the injured animals.

“Ah… Two of our merchants were a married couple. They couldn’t leave their daughter on her own so they brought her with them. Poor thing, she saw what the monsters did to them.”

The other man hissed between his teeth sympathetically. “That’s unfortunate.”

“The worst of it is they had a guard. But it turned out he was a newcomer and found out just then he had no spine.”

“You mean he ran?”

“Not far. The monsters got him too.”

“Damn. That guild should take care to evaluate their members better. Something like this shouldn’t happen.”

The caravan head sighed. “You’re telling me.” His hand rested on Nan’s head just then, patting her awkwardly. “She hasn’t said a word since, and I can hardly get her to eat. I don’t have the time to help her out any more than I already have. Have any idea who could look after her? She doesn’t have anyone to go home to.”

“Gee, you’re springing that on me too fast…”

Nan’s hands had tightened their grip, fingers pulling on the fabric of her long skirt. Her mama had picked it out for her, the very best from the clothes they were transporting. It had cute little cloud patterns and birds embroidered into it. There were red stains near the bottom hem that so far the adults had mistaken for mud from the road.

Someone new approached the caravan head and the man he’d been talking to. Nan didn’t care and paid no mind. It wasn’t like there was anything that mattered now. The person stopped by the wagon, right next to her really, and was tall and broad enough to cast a shadow over her.

“Oh, ah, Clint!” the caravan head said in surprise. “Was there something you needed?”

“Not with you,” the large man said. “I want a word with her.”

Nan still didn’t look up. She didn’t want to talk to anyone. The man crouched down, bringing his head closer to her eye level. “Hey, kid. You thinking about how unfair life is?”

“Clint, I don’t think-”

“Shut up!” he barked over her head at the other two. “Well kid, if that’s what you’re thinking then you’re not wrong. But that’s not what happened this time. What happened wasn’t some unlucky accident.”

“It…wasn’t?” Nan’s voice was a tiny little croak. She turned her head and stared up at the man. His hair was brown and curled up at the ends, and on his chin he had a narrow but long ribbon of beard. She recognized him now. He was the boss of some of the guild men and women who’d been guarding them. Papa had said they didn’t usually take on protection jobs, but had been going the same way as the caravan.

“No. It was the fault of the evil in the world,” Clint told her. “The greatest evil that takes countless loved ones from us; the monsters.”

Nan’s eyes slowly widened. “The monsters…are evil.” Of course, why hadn’t she realized it? Everyone knew the reason it was dangerous to leave the barriers was because of the monsters. Nobody could ever live peacefully as long as they were outside! If only they were gone, everyone could live happily with their moms and dads and never worry about losing each other!

Clint nodded, as if confirming her reasoning. “You’re now one of the people who understands the menace we face. What do you want to do about it?”

“I…” She stopped and cleared her voice. “I want to get rid of all the monsters!”

Clint rested a hand on her shoulder and nodded. “If you’re determined to see that through, then the Hunting Blades will keep its doors open for you.” He stood up and started to walk away.

“Wait, do you mean you’ll be taking her or…?” the caravan head called out in puzzlement.

“Our guild is no place for anyone who isn’t ready to fight from the moment they join. We’ll be waiting for her to come to us.” He looked back over his shoulder, making eye contact with Nan. “You better show me you have what it takes to save the world from evil.”

Nan would never forget what she’d lost, and she’d never forgive the monsters for being responsible. She’d lost everything back then but had found her purpose.