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squirrelcrow-po3 · 3 years

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okay so descriptions in a human au. incredibly long post lol

btw imma say fuck it and say they have unnatural hair colors to match their fur colors

icestar (bluestar): hmhmhm i imagine her being mixed (most of the characters will be if im being honest). shes middle eastern and south east european! maybe georgian or romanian (like me heh). she has bluish hair, but she is definitely graying. i imagine she dyes her hair, but her roots are gray and all her hair is gray as her mental state slips. she has a pixie bob. shes tall and slender but leanly muscled.

maplestar (firestar): i imagine him as somewhat shorter and muscular, but only buff as an adult. as an apprentice, hes slightly chubbier and soft looking. he is black, maybe mixed with pacific islander. he has curly ginger hair as an apprentice, but probably has locks as an adult. he also has facial hair as an adult. he probably has freckles.

foxtail (redtail): so their whole family line through adderfang is east asian but he is also mixed black. he's on the shorter side but well build muscle-wise. he has curly hair that's mostly black with a ginger streak. he is still trans as a human obviously lmao.

tigerclaw: he's a big fuckin boy. hes absolutely massive, height and muscle wise. i imagine him as mostly south european. as someone whos mom is italian, tigerclaw acts like every fucking italian man ever (/j lmao). he has long, shoulder-lengthed dark brown hair thats usually slicked back.

spottedleaf: again, as foxtail's sister, she is mixed east asian and black. she is also short and is rather slim with a rectangular body type. she usually has braids with bangs. i imagine she has a hairstyle that's half up in space buns. she also has a 'streak' of ginger in her hair.

boartusk (yellowfang): im glad everyone agrees that shes a slavic babushka. i imagine her as taller and plump but typically slouched over, especially during into the wild. shes an old lady! she has graying black hair that's usually partially covered and a very tired face. again, during into the wild shes somewhat disheveled but after she joins thunderclan, she becomes more comfortable and put-together.

lionheart: also a big boy. but more plump. like muscular fat if that makes sense. he's probably a bit taller than tigerclaw. dad bod and very friendly looking. he and his sister are mixed black and south asian. he has medium lengthed curly hair that's golden blonde. he definitely has a lot of facial hair as well.

erminestrike (whitestorm): like icestar, hes also middle eastern and southeast european. but he also is northern european from his dad's side. he has rather straight white hair. he's always very well-groomed and looks nice. he's also tall and thin like his aunt, and has a slightly athletic build. hes a pretty man.

flashfoot (runningwind): he's a lanky lad. got a real runner's build, obviously. hes mixed middle eastern and northern european. he has medium toned skin but is paler than his sister. he has dusty brown hair that's somewhat short and wavy, usually a bit messy. he looks tired most of the time.

mousefreckle (mousefur): shes shorter than her brother and plump/curvy. like i said, she's mixed middle eastern and northern european. and she has darker skin than her brother. she has thick, wavy dusty brown hair that she typically has in a ponytail. she obvious has freckles, hence her name lol.

willowcloud (willowpelt): i think i mentioned this in a post before when describing her sons as humans but she's mostly southeast asian. she's very motherly looking. shes tall and fairly muscular. even if she's kinda buff, she's soft looking and dresses femininely! she has thick, slightly curly pale gray hair. she usually has her hair in a bun.

leopardsmoke (leopardfoot): she looks a lot like her son, tigerclaw. shes incredibly tall and very muscular. kinda scary looking and intimidating! she's also southern european obviously. she has very sharp features. she has short, pin straight, very dark brown (almost black) hair. she usually styles her hair in a half-up half-down ponytail.

rosewish (rosetail): so since she is pretty much mixed with most of the clans as a cat, she is meant to be pretty racially ambiguous as a human. so her race isn't fully known. she has dark to medium-toned skin with short wavy hair. her hair is mostly brownish gray with a rosy red streak. she has sharp features.

patchsong (patchpelt): he is short and somewhat slim. i imagine him as being black with vitiligo. he has dark brown medium lengthed curly hair. he probably wears glasses as well. like foxtail, he is also still trans as a human lmao.

ferretfang (longtail): like his mother, he is racially ambiguous. he is quite lanky and slender. very fucking tall. probably around the tallest in the clan when hes an adult. he has shortish, spiky hair that's is layered. the top layers are silverish, while the bottom layers are sandy brown. she has sharp features and looks angry most of the time lol.

sandstorm: again, she is racially ambiguous like the rest of her family. she is tall like her brother. as an apprentice she is rather thin, but she beefs up a bit as an adult. as an apprentice, she has medium lengthed sandy hair that's very choppy. she probably cuts it herself. as an adult, she has slightly longer, more well-groomed hair. she has freckles.

darkpool (darkstripe): previously described him in a post. through his parents he is middle eastern, southeast asian, and european. he has medium toned skin. his black hair is straight and somewhat thinner, and is medium lengthed. usually he doesnt style it and is very flat. he wears glasses as an apprentice but stops as an adult. he is taller and thin.

flintstripe (graystripe): also described him in a post. like his brother he is middle eastern, southeast asian, and european. he has darker skin that darkpool but he still has a medium skin tone. he has grayish hair that's also medium lengthed, but more choppy and layers. usually, he pulls it into a ponytail when he's an adult. he is shorter and plump.

raven (ravenpaw): he is mixed black and northern european. he is shorter and thin. kinda awkward looking, especially as an apprentice. but he grows into himself after he escapes to the farm. he probably also beefs up a bit on the farm, but isn't really buff and is more athletically built. he has medium lengthed hair as an apprentice, but has shorter hair as an adult. he also probably wears glasses like his dad.

dustcloud (dustpelt): he is also mixed black and northern european like his brother. he is short as well, but is more average built. he probably needs glasses but doesn't wear them. i imagine he has braces as an apprentice. he has short dusty brown hair. most likely in an undercut or something like that.

frostberry (frostfur): i imagine her as north european. very, very pale lmao. she's also thin and flat. she hair long white hair that's straight at the top with slight waves at the bottom. she has slightly sharp, dainty features. i imagine she looks somewhat fairy-like. along with her pale skin, she probably has flushed cheeks most of the time and long eyelashes.

brindleface: again, since shes related to spottedleaf and foxtail in my rewrite, she is asian. but i imagine her as mixed southeast and east asian. she has long brown hair with a blonde streak. she looks very very pretty and feminine... shes the type of ladies who wears pretty sundresses with big bows and big sunhats.

goldenflower: she is very much a mom and she looks like it. she is tall and plump. but i also imagine shes also quite strong. she is black and south asian like her brother. she has a long golden afro. sometimes she pulls it into a low ponytail. the anime mom hairstyle but bipoc edition lmao. she has very soft facial features.

speckledawn (speckletail): old mom! she's black. she's tall like her children lionheart and goldenflower. but she's also more average in body type. she has a curly bob thats golden brown and graying. she probably has freckles.

sparrowpelt (halftail): he is middle eastern. he has short, well-groomed dark brown hair. he is tall and slim like his son flashfoot. since cats' tails help with balance, he might have had a head injury that fucks with his balance.

smallear: he is a short and plump. he is south asian. he has grayish white hair that is cut rather short. idk he probably just has small ears still lmao.

foggygaze (one-eye): she is northern european. she is short and plump like her daughter mousefreckle. she has white hair thats medium length and wavy. and has freckles.

dapplestep (dappletail): she is mixed black and southern european. she has vitiligo. she has brown and blonde hair. her hair is long and curly, but it's also graying.

thrushlight (thrushpelt): he is also mixed black and southern european like his sister. he has lighter, medium toned skin than her. he has short lighter brown hair that's also graying. he has freckles.

ok now to cats who are born or are kits during the arc

cindershine (cinderpelt): she is mixed black, south asian, and european. she has lightish medium toned skin with freckles. she has gray hair thats thick and curly. she has similar dainty features like her mother but is plumper like her dad. she probably wears glasses. she is also still trans lol.

brightheart: she is also mixed black, south asian, and european. she still has the scar across her face. though it is most likely stab wounds in a human au. she has short, straight hair as an adult. her hair is gingerish gold. she is well build and tall. she has freckles.

swiftpaw: he is mixed black, south asian, and southern european. he has small patches of vitiligo. he has curly, dark brown hair thats in an undercut. he probably cuts it himself. he probably has patchy facial hair like the typical teenage boy facial hair lol.

lynxrunner: she is also mixed black, south asian, and southern european. as an apprentice, she has long, curly hair. but as an adult, she cuts it short. her hair is dusty goldish brown. she is tall but surprisingly thin and twiggy, unlike both of her parents.

brackenshade (brackenfur): he is eastern european and middle eastern. he is lightish medium toned skin with a lot of moles. he has short, wavy bluish hair. he is pretty tall but only slightly muscular. has more of an athletic build than being bulky.

thornsnap (thornclaw): he is northern european. he has pale skin. he has gingerish brown hair thats usually slicked to one side and is well-kept. he has a pretty average build but is slightly muscular. he is also average in height. he definitely has thick eyebrows lmao.

mallowtuft (cloudtail): he is mixed black (and maybe pacific islander) and east asian. he is fairly tall and plump. but also kinda like lionheart, he has a semi muscular dad bod. he has very long, white locs that he pulls up into a bun. as a kit and apprentice, he has unkempt curly hair.

ashflake (ashfur): he is mixed southeast asian, east asian, and european. he is quite short and thin, with a delicate build. probably slightly underweight. he has medium lengthed, choppy hair with messy layers. he has dusty brown hair. his hair obscures his eyes sometimes. he has freckles. he wears glasses.

ferncloud: she is also mixed southeast asian, east asian, and european. she is also rather short but more plump and curvy than her brother. she definitely looks more healthy than him. she has thick, slightly wavy brown hair with blonde highlights.

brambleclaw: he is mixed black, south asian, and southern european. as an apprentice, he has medium lengthed, golden brown locks that obscures his eyes sometimes. as an adult, though, he has shorter, buzzed hair and facial hair. he is tall and muscular like his father.

tawnyspark (tawnypelt): she is mixed black, south asian, and southern european. she has vitiligo. she has long braids that she pulls half-up into a ponytail. she has blonde streaks in them. she is tall and muscular as well and has sharp features.

snowspeckle (snowkit): he is mixed black, south asian, and southern european. he has rather dark skin. he rather plump and quite tall. he has medium lengthed, curly white hair. he is deaf and has a hearing aid.

stormheart (stormfur): he is mixed middle eastern, southeast asian, and european (both from his mother and father's side). he is plump like his dad. though he has shorter, messy dark gray hair. he looks kinda messy most of the time and is very comfy all the time lol.

featherbreeze (feathertail): even though she's only temporarily in thunderclan, ill include her. shes also mixed middle eastern, southeast asian, and european (both from her mother and father's side). she has long, wavy silver hair. she is tall and slender. she is also blind in my rewrite, and typically carries a white cane.

squirrelflight: she also is possibly born during the first arc so ill include her and her sister. she is mixed black (maybe pacific islander), and all of sandstorm's mess jfskdf. she has darkish medium toned skin. she has curly dark ginger hair that she usually pulls into a ponytail or into space buns. she has a lot of freckles. she is plump and curvy.

leafpool: yeah so i gotta include her too. she is mixed the same races as squirrelflight. she is tall and thin, and is very twiggy. she has long, straight hair thats mostly brown with a blonde streak. she usually has it half up half down. she is also trans.

#IF IM MISSING ANYONE PLS TELL ME LMAO THIS TOOK ME FOREVER

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couldyouspeakmyname · 3 years

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OK I HAVE A BEASTARS OC AND I AM GOING TO TELL YOU ABOUT IT: (you don’t have to answer if you don’t feel like it, kind of just dumping information for myself and maybe you to share with other people /gen )

(Template made by Mandy on Amino, go check them out :) )

Also, I tried to make this so that there was other canon character, but I realized that I had so many oc’s I might as well make a new kind of universe following the beastars world-building stuff

So basically a fancy furry world but the world-building is based on Beastars

I apologize in advance for the spelling (I didn’t check/edit this :p) and also the long form (I like details lol)

BASIC INFORMATION

Full name: Cecelia Aksha Brown

Pronunciation: Cecelia (s-E-s-e-l-E-a) Aksha (pronounced how it’s spelled) Brown (B-r-ow-n)

Nickname(s) or Alias: Blind One (Given by Doctor Cato, her doctor), Lead vocalist of Athaza (Given by fans), Cece (Given by Naomi, a friend), Dead Legs (Given by Emily, the lead vocalist in the rival band)

Band Name: Athaza

Reason for band name: Cece originally wanted to name her band based off of a phobia she had, so she searched up her greatest fear (the fear of being forgetting, being forgotten, ignored, and/or replaced) and found out that the world was Athazagoraphobia. And that was like a really, really long word (both for her and me, the author, to write down) so she chose to shorten it to Athaza.

Gender: female

Species: Black Tiger

Age: 28

Birthday: September 1st

Sexuality: pansexual, poly, asexual

Religion: Atheist

City or town of birth: Belgum

Currently lives: Belgum (although she hardly even goes home, with her work being on the move and all, it is hard for her to get a break and relax in her own home.)

Languages spoken: Japanese

Native language: English

Relationship Status: single and happy about it (she doesn’t have time for a relationship when she is always on the move, and with her job, she just won’t have time to take care of someone else when she can barely take care of herself)

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

Height: body length is 4’5, shoulder height is 31 inches, tail length is 24 inches

Weight: 220

Figure/build: she is very small and tiny for a tiger (being the smallest measurements that a tiger can be at). Her eyes tend to be more rounded and bigger then most tiger’s.

Hair color: she dyed her hair a split dye, half a dark and almost dusty blue and the other half black (left half dusty blue and right half black)

Hairstyle: ummm, idk how to describe it but like the Levi styled hair

Facial Hairstyle: N/A

Eye color: electric blue

Skin/fur/etc color: she has a white base color with black stripes, ears, shape on chest that looks like a broken heart, and tail-tip

Tattoos: she has the words “heaven“ written on her knee, and a tongue piercing of a pentagram

Piercings: double piercings and a tongue piecing in the middle of the pentagram

Scars/distinguishing marks: she has a long light pink scar running up the left side of her leg (and she still can’t walk that good on her last leg, causing her to limp), and her right eye has a long scar running down it and she is blinded on that side

Preferred style of clothing: alternative

Frequently worn jewellery/accessories: lots of silver rings

HEALTH

Smoker?Drinker?Recreational Drug User? Which?Addictions: N/A (she doesn’t have any addictions, although she might drink from time-to-time. She doesn’t mind other people doing those things around her)

Allergies: pollen

Any physical ailments/illnesses/disabilities: she can never walk on her left leg again and she is half blind in her right eye

Any medication regularly taken: N/A

PERSONALITY

Personality: funny, smart, protective, loyal, patient, clumsy, fearful, childish, disorganized, and forgetful

Likes: flowers, bee’s, singing, and playing Instruments

Dislikes: arguments, spoiled brats, discrimination (as she should), and sour foods (she has a sweet tooth)

Fears/phobias: Athazagoraphobia

Favorite color: gray, black, dark purple, brown

Hobbies: singing to music, listening to music, picking flowers

Taste in music: she is the lead vocalist to a scream rock band, however, she likes listening folk music more

SKILLS

Talents/skills: she can sing well and learn instruments quickly

Ability to drive a car? Operate any other vehicles?: she can drive a care and that is pretty much it (although she doesn’t usually need to drive a car since her band is on tour 99% of the time and they have a driver to take them places)

EATING HABITS

Omnivore/Carnivore/Herbivore (Vegetarian): carnivore

Favourite food(s): steak

Favorite drink(s): Monster Energy and coffee

Disliked food(s): insects

Disliked drink(s): tea

HOUSE AND HOME

Describe the character's house/home: she has a pretty large home, the house is hidden deep in the forest and is mostly covered by the tree’s.

Do they share their home with anyone? Who?: She shares the house with he rest of her band

Significant/special belongings: a picture of her parents

CAREER

Level of education: high

Qualifications: singer

Current job title and description: lead vocalist in band

COMBAT

Peaceful or aggressive attitude?: peaceful, she hates getting into fights with people

Fighting skills/techniques: she has her claws and her teeth (also carries a taser, just in case,)

Special skills/magical powers/etc: N/A

Weapon of choice (if any): taser

Weaknesses in combat: she is very slow and not skilled in combat

Strengths in combat: she is impulsive and that usually benefits her

FAMILY, FRIENDS AND FOES

Parents names: Chanda (Mother), Sarendar (Father)

Are parents alive or dead?: dead (died by some unknown prisoners killing them in jail)

Partner/Spouse: N/A

Children: she can barely take care of herself, what makes you think she can take care of a living, breathing, child that does nothing but cry?

Best Friend: Galen (best friend, convinced her to start the band, drum player in band), Naomi (enemies turned friends, joined the band shortly after it formed, lead guitarist)

Other Important Friends: Khalo (band member, back up vocalist), Futun (band member, second drum player), Bilwa (band member, any other position that needs to be filled in),

Acquaintances: Davi (driver for the band), Doctor Cato (his doctor for years)

Pets: Root (a yellow tabby cat)

Enemies?: Emily

Why are they enemies?: they are in rival band‘s, and also Emily makes fun of Cece for being half blind and having a limp

BACKSTORY

Describe their childhood (newborn - age 10):

She had a normal childhood (as normal as a main character’s childhood can get that is). Her parents nearly forced her to join their religion but Cece refused. Soon they argued almost every day, some days is was about grades, some days it was about religion, while others it was about her sexuality.

Describe their teenage years (11 - 19):

The arguments got so bad that she couldn’t bare it any longer, the moment she turned eighteen she ran away from her parents house and went to her friends house (Galen). Soon the two of them formed a band.

Describe their adult:

Once the band got kind of popular, she was living her best life. So she chose to forgive her parents for what they did to her. She went over to their house for Thanksgiving, her parents asked if she could spend the night. Cede was happy to (seeing how she didn’t see her parents in so many years). While Cece was sleeping her Mother got some water and boiled it, adding some sugar and waitI got 15 minutes for it to cook. Once it was done, her Mother poured the boiling water on her own daughter. Cece screamed from the pain, once her Father heard her screams he rushed into her room and called 911. Cece was admitted into the hospital with burns across her legs, arms, and face. The sugar made the burns extra hard to get off and Cece spent multiple weeks in the hospital. Her Father was found guilty of letting her Mother attempt to murder Cece and Cece’s Mother was found guilty of attempting to kill her own daughter. They both got time in jail together, in the jail cell every prison found out what they did and some unknown prisoners beat up Cece’s mother and Father. Cece was left with a blinded eyes and a leg that was doomed to never work the rest of her life

That sounds fun!! I'm assuming it's kind of an AU then?

Also, it's a real shame more characters in Beastars don't dye their fur. It could be fun, but then again...it'd be difficult?

-Maeve

#long post #sorry I can't put this under cut #I love ocs though #this could be fun to do but it's not exactly the kind of format I personally like for my ocs #but it's a nice general one!!#tongue piercing's are fun #I want one...and a lip piercing...#I also want more in my ears #I just want to be a metal detectors worst nightmare tbh

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feverinfeveroutfic · 3 years

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chapter thirty-four: one of us

Sam spent the next night at Joey's apartment before he offered to drive her back to the Bronx, complete with the painted canvas in the back seat. He also offered her to take a week off from school and spend it with him, but she turned it down.

“I worked too hard to get into school and claim my spot here in the Northeast, Joey,” she explained to him as she nestled down in the passenger seat next to him, “I mean, really. There's no way I'm giving that up. I wouldn't be here right now if not for school.”

“We gotta hang out again, though, Sam,” he insisted. “I like hangin' out with you. I feel more like myself when I'm hangin' out with you.”

“Maybe we can do something together over Thanksgiving—I have a four day weekend then.”

“Nah, I can't. We're gonna be touring over in Europe.”

“Dammit! Well, what about Christmas?”

“Christmas, I dunno. I think we have it off? I'll have to run it by Scott when I see him in a bit. Although—I do think we go back to Poughkeepsie after Thanksgiving, though. Poughkeepsie and also Providence.”

“Providence! So Zelda will be able to see you guys just fine.”

“I hope she does, yeah!”

Another few hours and soon the New York skyline emerged in their view: the cold gray clouds only made all those skyscrapers as well as the Twin Towers off in the distance appear even colder. Seeing the clouds made her think of that cat she and Marla had found outside of their new rehearsal space, especially given it was pouring rain when they found her. As Joey took to the next lane over to keep up with the freeway, she turned her attention to him.

He took a couple of glimpses over at her, the second of which he raised his eyebrows at her.

“What's up?” he asked her.

“Is it too much trouble to ask if we could swing by Marla and Charlie's place? They don't live too far away from my building.”

“I was just thinkin' about them,” he confessed. “The two of them and that little black kitty cat that she found.”

“Actually it was me who found her—Marla and Charlie took her in.”

“Oh, I see! But yeah, we can go see them for a little bit. I'm not the one with school after all.” He flashed her a wink; the freeway spanned out into a long flat stretch and they made their way towards the Bronx and all those familiar neighborhoods. For a few moments as they rounded the bend, she had forgotten what they had named the cat but she wished to find her something the next time they saw each other.

Joey took the next exit into the very heart of the Bronx and Sam shivered in the seat despite the blast of warm air from the heater vents. He flexed his fingers even though he barely held onto the wheel the whole ride there. She had had the gloves tucked away in her pocket, but she wondered if he had another pair perfect for his own hands, and one that was perfect for driving.

He flexed his fingers again.

“Tired?” she asked him with a raise of her eyebrows.

“Nah, just cold hands. I don't have those drummer gloves with me.”

“Drummer gloves,” she said in a flat tone.

“Yeah. When I was first starting out as a drummer, I'd wear this little pair of white leather gloves that protected my hands from the drumsticks. They also kept my hands warm against the cold. I think I forgot them back at my place. Louie has a pair, too.” He somewhat grimaced at the mention of Louie's name. “They're almost like gardening gloves.”

“Oh, I see. Speaking of which, I had already seen you in a hockey get up, I should see you drumming next.”

“Playing hockey and drumming at the same time,” Joey challenged her with a smirk on his face.

“Playing hockey and then drumming,” Sam added.

“Or drumming and then play a round of hockey. I'm that active, after all.”

They snaked their way through the side streets of the Bronx, and towards her apartment building, but they continued onward to Marla and Charlie's building nearby. She had a flashback to when she and Frank were in that closet together and she drew those cartoons in her journal. She could still feel the fine lush hair against her fingers. She wished to do more of those same types of cartoons in her journal, and it made her think of the ink drawings she had made in the past October. She missed doing it that time around given Cliff's passing and her filled schedule that fall as well, but she wished to do it again.

Lars encouraged her to do it with the ink at Cliff's memorial after all.

The rain had fizzled out by the time she and Joey made their way up the steps and inside of the dry, warm building.

“Do you remember where they live?” Joey asked her as he ran his fingers through his black curls.

“I do as a matter of fact!”

Sam reached the apartment first and she knocked on the door panel three times. Silence ensued.

“Are they even home at all?” Joey wondered aloud, and the door swung open. Marla greeted them, and complete with a towel wrapped around her hair.

“Hey,” she said with a surprised expression on her face. “Hey, you two!”

“Who's here?” Charlie hollered from the kitchen.

“Joey and Sam,” she called back to him, and she returned to them.

“We should'a called first but—we were just coming back home, though,” Joey explained.

“Just wanted to see how the two of you were doing,” Sam added with a shrug of her shoulders.

“Aw, that's too kind—come on in, you guys.”

Joey ran his fingers through his jet black curls again as they padded inside of that cozy front room. They had rearranged the furniture at some point: the couch had been moved over to the wall opposite from the front door and they had tucked a cat tree into the right corner of the room. Charlie emerged from the kitchen with his dark curls tied up at the back of his head, a plain white shirt, and bright red shorts rounded out by knee high white socks.

“Cute,” Sam chuckled with a gesture to the shorts.

“What, these? I found these literally right after we came back home from the tour.”

“I thought he looked good with them,” Marla added as she took a seat on the couch. The cat jumped onto the arm, right next to her, and something jingled in junction with it.

“There she is!” Joey declared.

“What'd you name her again?” Sam asked her.

“Genie,” Marla filled in.

“Genie, that was it!”

“Dream Genie,” Charlie added as she slunk past the back of Marla's head to the other end of the couch. She squatted down there and glanced over at Sam: those golden eyes shone under the soft light of their apartment. She spotted a black and green collar around her neck: right in the middle was a circular silver tag that resembled to a coin, and right behind that was a silver bell.

“She's our girl,” Charlie declared.

“I kinda wanna do something for her,” Sam confessed.

“Yeah, me, too—” Careful not to frighten her, Joey strode over to the couch.

“She's not too particular about men, Joey,” Charlie told him. “It took her a bit to warm up to me.” Joey bowed forward and extended his hand to her: Genie hesitated and her pupils dilated a bit. Sam held still for her; but then Genie tapped her dark nose on Joey's fingertip.

“We good?” he asked the cat in a gentle voice. He raised his hand a little bit to pet her head: she closed her eyes, and Joey moved in closer to her. Genie lifted herself in a seated position so he could pet her more.

“Yeah, we good,” Marla replied as she adjusted the towel on her head.

“Are we dying our hair again?” Sam asked her.

“Not yet, no—I'll dye it a different color over Christmas, though.”

“She did recolor it,” Charlie pointed out.

“Yeah, I recolored it a tiny little bit just to fix the roots and make it look even for the rest of the quarter. I'll leave the actual color a surprise, though.”

Joey meanwhile took his seat on the couch so Genie could come closer to him. Even just standing there next to Marla, Sam could hear the rich purr from inside of her throat: Joey petted her head and her back, and her tail shot straight up in response.

“I envy you,” Charlie muttered as he folded his arms across his chest. Genie rubbed up against Joey's arm and purred even louder. It was right then Sam knew that all of his problems were trivial: if that cat acted like that towards him, there must be a way to help him heal and overcome it all. She even turned around and let out a soft little meow for him.

“I really envy you now,” Charlie followed it up.

“You wanna pet her, Sam?” Marla offered.

“I'd love to—” she said as she gingerly stepped closer to Joey.

“You did find her outside of Montana after all—”

She extended her hand to Genie and she tapped her nose on her fingertips as well: she then ran her fingers on the crown of her head, and she continued to purr. Sam looked over at Joey and his brown eyes softened at the sight of her. The cat liked both of them almost immediately, and she knew there was a way in there with him.

Indeed, he walked her back to her place and up those stairs together. Aurora was descending the stairs with a plastic bag in hand.

“Oh, hey! There you are, Sam!”

“Were you waiting for me?” she asked her.

“Yeah, me and Zelda both. I was just gonna go down the block to ask Marla and Charlie if they knew where you were.”

“Well, I'm here now,” Sam told her, “with Mr. Bellardini here, too. What's going on?”

“Halloween and Day of the Dead, that's the deal.” Aurora flashed her a wink, and Sam thought about that one song that the Cherry Suicides did for their Halloween show the year before. “Day of the Dead.” She had a feeling but she had no idea if it was at all true. Aurora ambled closer to her and Joey, and she gestured for them to lean in closer to her.

“I was gonna tell Zelda after I came back,” she explained in a low voice, “but Metal Church, the band that opened up for Metallica and—” She turned to Joey. “—you guys, on their tour—”

Joey nodded in response to that.

“Metal Church cancelled the remainder of their dates for the remaining stint of the tour,” Aurora continued. “I called Morgan of the Cherry Suicides if she wanted to fill in for their spot and she accepted without a shred of hesitation.”

Sam gasped and Joey's face lit up.

“But don't tell her, though,” she lowered her voice to a near whisper to them, “I want it to be a surprise.”

“And you want to let it come from your mouth, too,” Sam added.

“Exactly, yes! She's been awful moody lately, too, so I wanna see the joy come to her face when she hears it.”

“Aw, that's so kind of you, Aurora,” Joey told her with that lopsided smile on his face.

“Anyways, what's in the bag?” Sam asked her with a nod. “It's for Halloween and Day of the Dead?”

“Well, it specifically is for Halloween. Day of the Dead has something else in a different bag out in the my car.”

She opened the top side of the plastic bag to show her the collar of a beige jumpsuit. The inside was line with black satin.

“From that movie Ghostbusters,” Aurora explained, “I even got this one personalized—” Indeed, she took it out part of the way, and they both noticed a black name tag embroidered there on the side of the chest: inside of the rectangle was Aurora's name in red lettering.

“I can get you one, if you'd like, Sam,” she added.

“I'd love one,” Sam replied with a smile and a raise of her eyebrows.

“One for me, one for you, one for Marla, and one for Belinda if she wants to join in with us. I tried to offer it to Zelda but she told me she didn't feel like dressing up. I told her, 'it's Halloween—you ladies own Halloween', you know to try and lift her spirits and whatnot. But I dunno.”

“She's probably waiting for us,” Sam remarked as she adjusted the lapels of her coat.

“Probably waiting for you in particular,” Joey added, “here, Aurora—lemme help you out with that—”

Sam continued on to the stairs, to the third floor and her apartment. Zelda had taken her seat outside of the front door: she flashed back on the time Cliff had taken his seat there outside of her door. But Zelda had more of a distant look on her face in comparison to him: he awaited her presence; she awaited some sort of comfort. She sighed through her nose and she bowed her head a bit, but when Sam stood above her, she peered up at her. Her eyes were large but far away.

“How you doing?” she asked her, to which Zelda shrugged. “Is everything alright?”

“I think my band might be breaking up,” she confessed in a small voice. “We haven't been able to do anything—Aurora hasn't gotten us anything. I can't put the blame on her, though. I feel like it's my fault.”

“Well—how 'bout you come on in? I can put on a kettle and make you a cup of tea.”

Zelda sighed through her nose again.

“Okay,” she almost breathed that out, and she climbed to her feet. “I do feel a little bit better saying that, though. I haven't been able to tell that to anyone else.” Sam unlocked the door and let her inside of the apartment. Zelda took her seat on the couch and she leaned back against the soft cushion. She still had that distant look on her face as Sam fetched her a clean mug and a bag of green tea. Her slender, toned legs separated a little bit: she looked a little bit thinner than usual.

“Would you like some sugar in your tea?” she offered her in a gentle voice.

“Sure, why not.”

“Um—Aurora is gonna get us some costumes for a Halloween party,” Sam recalled. “We could all go together in an ensemble of sorts.”

“Yeah, maybe we should,” she muttered. Something else bothered her, and Sam took her seat next to her on the couch.

“What's wrong?” she asked, and Zelda sighed through her nose again.

“I feel bad about breaking it off with Louie,” she confessed almost without taking a single breath.

“Well...” Sam fell short with that. There was no way she could console her because she had lost Cliff to something she couldn't control, whereas the whole thing with Louie hit a brick wall. And yet they both lost their boyfriends: she nestled up closer to Zelda, who kicked off her shoes and she pulled her knees up to her chest. She bowed her head and rested her lanky elbows upon her knees; Sam considered putting her arm around her shoulders so as to console her but she had no idea how Zelda would react to it. She smelled of cinnamon, that smell of Christmas. That smell that made her think of Cliff.

“You know Cliff used to sit right there whenever he came over here,” she told her in a low voice.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. He would just sit there and relax, and he let me come closer to him.”

Zelda's bottom lip trembled a bit.

“Do you miss him?” she asked Sam in a broken voice: tears lined her eyes.

“Every day. I think I'm gonna miss him every day.”

“At least you have him all to yourself now, though,” Zelda pointed out. “I just don't have it with Louie anymore.”

“Well—you guys broke up for—for—for some reason.”

“For some reason, for sure.”

“Would you be willing to listen to Legacy's new album, though?”

“Of course. I wanna know what it feels like on his end. He's also a drummer—I like my drummers.” She sniffled.

“You like your drummers even if they leave,” Sam pointed out.

“I do. I do, I do, I do, I do... I still love Louie even with him not next to me anymore.”

Sam extended her arms for her and Zelda moved in closer, and they embraced each other.

“Thank you,” Zelda breathed into her ear.

“If it's any comfort at all,” Sam started again; she moved back so she could look right into her tearful eyes, “I feel my heart opening again.”

“Really?” Zelda brushed away a tear.

“Yeah. To Joey.”

“Whoa, really.”

“Yeah. And—I wanna tell you to keep it under wraps, too.”

“What for?”

“Because—I honestly don't know how to break it to him yet. Or to anyone, really. I'm also not really sure of it myself, either. I keep thinking, oh, it's nothing serious. I just love him out of necessity. I don't necessarily feel that sort of love for him. But—all things equal—I do feel love for Joey. But I don't really want it to leak out as of yet. Mine and Cliff's relationship leaked out onto him and so I don't want me and him to leak out.” Sam extended her pinky finger to her, and Zelda hooked her own around it.

“I won't tell a soul,” she vowed to her a low voice. “And the amount of times you said 'leak' makes me wonder if there's a leak in here.”

“Nah, that just—sort of happened.” A soft whistling noise emerged from the kitchen.

“There's your water.” Sam lifted her gaze to the door and at the sight of Aurora and Joey. “And there they are, too.”

“Speaking of leaking—” Zelda turned around and Sam stood from the couch and hurried into the kitchen before the kettle whistled even louder. She heard their voices in the next room. And she switched off the burner and she picked it off there; before she could make her way back into the front room when Zelda let out a shrill yelp.

“OH MY FUCKING GOD, AURORA, I LOVE YOU!”

Joey burst out laughing right then. Sam hurried into the front room with the kettle in hand; Zelda threw her arms around Aurora's body and she began to push her back to the door. Joey set down the plastic bag and he clapped his hands. Even with his darkened skin, a soft blush bloomed in his face from his laughter.

“Well, don't suffocate her, Zelda!” Sam chuckled again; Zelda pressed her lips to the side of Aurora's face, and her smooth almond shaped eyes widened a bit at the feeling.

“Oh, my god, that just made my life!” she tearfully declared.

“I told—Morgan—but I wanted it to be a surprise—” Aurora stammered.

“So you coming to the Halloween party thing now? I don't even know what it is, to be frank,” was all Sam could ask as she poured the hot water into her mug.

“For sure!” She wiped away more tears. Joey clapped his hands some more before he extended his left to her. She gave him five down low and threw her arms around him. Aurora ran her hands under her black hair and let out a low whistle.

“I can't even remember the last time I had a bear hug with someone,” she choked out, “not even when I grew up out in San Diego. I don't remember the last time I had that.” And Sam almost dropped the kettle from laughing so hard.

Over the next couple of weeks, things seemed to lighten up once again. Sam could focus more on her art and her classes. Indeed, her watercolor paintings seemed bolder and brighter than before, with the washes looking as though she had taken the paint straight out of the bottle and applied it onto the heavy grained paper. The lines on her graphite drawings looked cleaner and smoother, and she was finally getting the hang of the extra dark shading. Belinda made a joke that it came from the weekend together with him.

“His last name is Belladonna, you said?” she asked her the day before Halloween.

“Yeah. A play on his real last name of Bellardini.”

“You know belladonna is deadly nightshade, right? Genus name belladonna atropa?”

“He took me to his hockey rink and he actually had a ball that actually said 'atropa' on the side, and he told me that was what sparked the idea for it.”

Belinda leaned in closer to Sam's ear.

“He's injected you with his venom, Sam I am,” she whispered.

“Injected me with his venom,” Sam chuckled and rolled her eyes at that, but Belinda's face remained serious. She never elaborated on that for the rest of the day, or even the next day before the party. The thought did linger in the back of her head as she returned home after school: she took a glimpse in the window next to her, at the black hat upon her head. She gazed into her own dark eyes, and she thought of Joey's big brown eyes. As brown as the earth. As dark as venom.

But it wasn't possible

But on the other hand, Sam felt relieved that it was Friday again, especially when Aurora swung by and they drove down to L'Amour together, wrapped in their jumpsuits no less.

“We're missing the little ghostie symbol on the door panel,” Sam said to her as the familiar neighborhood appeared from around the corner; she adjusted the black leather gloves that Frank lent her earlier that morning.

“The siren, too!” Aurora laughed. “Let everyone know that we've arrived.”

They rolled up to that spot before the side door, which hung fully ajar: as Sam climbed out of the car, she spotted Scott and Dan inside there, both with no shirt on. Lush dark hair sprouted all over Scott's chest while Dan looked as though he had just come from several rounds at a nearby gym. And she thought Joey was trim and fit!

“Looks like we've got some manly men, Aurora,” she announced in a loud voice. They both looked in their direction and burst out laughing: Sam strode inside first and she stepped to the right. Aurora followed suit and put a pair of black goggles on top of her head, and she stood to the left. Both girls pressed their hands to their hips.

“Lookin' badass, ladies,” Dan remarked with the points of finger guns; he then ducked away for something. Once they had come inside, Sam realized that their faces had been painted a pearly white, as if they had walked right out of a spa. Both men had clipped their bangs back to put more emphasis on their masks.

“Yeah, kinda puts our costumes to shame, to be honest,” Scott added with a raise of his dark eyebrows.

“Aurora, Marla, Belinda, and I are the Ghostbusters,” Sam explained. “We're just missing our version of Ecto-1 is all.”

“The lasers, too,” Aurora added.

“What about Zelda, what's she dressing up as?”

“No idea—I hope it's something good, though,” Sam confessed. “After Aurora said that the Cherry Suicides will be opening up for Metallica in Providence next month, she's just been on cloud nine lately.”

Dan returned with a handful of jars and some flexible stencils in his arms, and he set them down on the little table in between them.

“What's all this?”

“We're gonna be dancing clowns,” he explained. “Kinda glad you girls showed up, too.”

“Why, you need a couple of girls' help?” Aurora teased him, to which she took a step forward.

“If you don't mind at all,” Dan replied with a shrug of his bare shoulders.

“You girls are one of us,” Scott added as he took out a pair of plastic vampire teeth from his shorts pocket, “—we really need you.”

“Here, Danny, let me help you,” Aurora volunteered.

“Which means I get Scott.” Sam turned her attention to him. “Would you like some help with those false teeth?” she offered.

“Nah—I do need a li'l help with the false blood on this, though.”

Sam took off the black leather gloves and tucked them into her pocket. Scott held still as he let her paint that bright red and jet black paint over his skin: the stencil stayed in place upon his skin, but her hand remained steady. She followed the elaborate groove of the stencil and the thick solid black onto the white foundation.

“Scott and I were making a joke,” Dan began in a mumbled voice, probably from the stencil on his skin as well, “he should shave the word 'not' into his chest hair.”

“Pffff, why?” Aurora laughed.

“Kinda fits the whole mood of things,” Scott added with his teeth barred together. “We lost a good friend so we wanna lighten up for a bit.”

Sam dipped the brush into the paint again, and she thought about the red shorts Charlie wore when she and Joey visited them for a bit. She wondered where they were going with it all, especially since it had been a touch over a year since their record dropped. She placed the other stencil on Scott's face but she kept her free hand on the free one.

“They're sticky so don't sweat it 'bout it fallin' off,” he assured her.

“I see.”

“And I see Zelda over there—in a dress.”

“In a dress, really? Run for the hills!” Sam laughed, and Scott gritted his teeth to keep himself steady. His eyes darted across the room and he raised his thick dark eyebrows a little bit.

“Oh, my,” he muttered without moving his lips.

“What's it like?”

“I can't—really describe it.”

And with that, Sam peered over her shoulder and there was Zelda in the doorway. She had put on a big long white lacy dress with a skirt that fell down to the floor. She had on a smooth silken ribbon around her waist and torn lace gloves. But right in the middle of that fitted bodice was a false butcher knife, and fake blood spattered across her skin and a good part of the dress itself. The floppy hat upon her head had splatters of blood across the brim.

“Oh, deary dear,” Sam remarked.

“Oh, my god, Zelda, you look amazing,” Frank called from the other side of the room.

“Yeah, I know right?” Zelda said with a big smirk across her face. “Thank my ladies for this. We're not called the Cherry Suicides for no reason. We got the news from Aurora just yesterday and there was no way we couldn't not celebrate by dressing up like a bunch of bloody Victorian ladies!”

“Bloody Victorian ladies,” Scott echoed in a fake British accent.

“Hold still,” Sam encouraged him as she brought the paint brush back to his face for some more stenciling. His thick dark eyebrows complimented the black and red paint, and within mere minutes, she peeled off the stencils for him.

“Deliciously evil,” she remarked, and he stuck the fangs into his mouth. She then turned to Dan and Aurora, the former of whom had stars painted all over his face. “Excellent!”

She recognized that head of purple on the other side of the room, right by the bar and wrapped up in a beige jumpsuit herself. She had a black backpack on: it wasn't the laser, but it looked as though it did the trick.

“And there's the third member of our party, Aurora,” Sam declared.

“Thank you, Sam I am—this feels fantastic,” Scott told her.

“My pleasure, Scott—” She jogged across the wooden floor to meet up with Marla. She already had a Bloody Mary before her, and her face lit up at the sight of Sam.

“Hey, I was just thinking about you. Want a drink?”

“Nah, I'm good—Bloody Maries aren't really my thing.”

“No, no, I want to get you something.”

“Oh, yes please! One of those black and purple drinks with the club soda inside.”

Marla asked the bartender for just that, and Sam took her seat next to her.

“Belinda's on her way right now,” she promptly said, “apparently the suit was a little too small for her.”

“Too small? She's like a living doll.”

“I know, right? But I guess it was a bit too snug around her chest so she had to wing it a little bit on her sewing machine. She's like a mad scientist sometimes, I swear...”

Sam's drink arrived and they clinked their glasses together. She took a sip when she noticed something out of the corner of her eye. Aurora had finished up Dan's face paint and she met up with the heavy gentleman with the black suit and the black fedora atop his head.

“And there's Aurora and Emile,” she remarked. “He looks like a dark Colonel Sanders.”

“What's going on between them, do you know?” Marla asked her in a low voice.

“No idea, to be honest. All I know is he's separated from his wife and they're friendly with each other.” She turned her head towards Marla. “A little too friendly, if you ask me. That's just from what I've seen, anyway.”

“So there's whole thing between you and Joey and now we have Aurora and Emile.”

“Right. And I have no idea what's going with any of it, either.”

Marla squinted her eyes at the sight of the couple on the other side of the room. She didn't move or say anything for a good long minute.

“Let's see where it all goes from here on out,” Sam suggested.

“It's all we can do,” Marla added as she picked up her Bloody Mary and took a sip. Sam held her purple drink up to her mouth but she kept it there.

With Cliff's passing came a whole new world. Almost two years had surpassed since Sam came to New York and it felt as though so much more had happened to her. Everything seemed to be moving so quickly and she couldn't hardly stop to rest a lot. Emile quipped something to Aurora, who then burst out laughing. He set a hand on her upper back.

There was definitely something in between them. No way it was just friendly. Sam didn't have much experience with the whole thing but she knew that that extended beyond mere friendship. She finally took a sip from her glass, and Marla did it in unison with her.

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mordenheim · 4 years

Text

Fictober 2020 17: “Give me a minute or an hour”

Dream Baker tapped her hoof impatiently as she waited near the tall, slender zebra. She huffed a bit as she watched him slowly soldering delicate wires in a new prosthetic he has been working on. “Okay, how much longer is this going to take?” Adjusting his magnifying monocle he muttered, “Give me a minute... or an hour,” he corrected as a wire shorted, causing the artificial leg to buck once violently as a puff of smoke rose from the wiring. “Oh no, uh-uh. You're not missing another Nightmare Night because of this, come on. I have the perfect costume for someone your height. Especially since you grew out those sideburns!” Her magic enveloped his ear, twisting it and giving it a gentle tug as she led him quickly out of the clinic and back to her place.

The tall unicorn led the grumpy zebra around the back of her house. He coughed and spluttered as she attacked him with a spray can of dark gray temporary fur color. Hearing the commotion, Victors' personal guard pony, Jeeves burst through the back door of Dream's bakery and coffee shop where he had been waiting. A pendant around his neck had been enchanted with a glamour to make him look like an ancient stone gargoyle, covered in cracks and moss.

Staring at the battle taking place in the grass outside he almost let out his first chuckle. Dream had tossed the can aside and was now attacking his mane and sideburns with a black brush-in color. “Oh would you stop fidgeting!” She snapped, working as quickly as she could, “I'd be done already if you would just hold still!” Smiling as she worked, she used her magic to generate a warm wind as she worked, drying the dye as she applied it to him before brushing it through the tuft of fur at the tip of his tail.

She grinned and shoved a parcel into his hooves, pushing him towards the house, “Now, go get changed into this and hurry up! It's nearly sunset!”

Sighing, she smiled to herself as she nodded, “Mission accomplished, now to get changed myself and get ready for the party.” Smiling at the gargoyle standing guard, she booped his nose lightly with a hoof, “Jeeves, dear. Will you come with me, please? I need a little assistance with my costume.”

About twenty minutes later, Dream was waiting in the darkened front room of the cafe. The unicorn looked stunning, dressed in a tight black leather corset over a flowing white gown. Black stockings adorned her rear legs and bracers emblazoned with stars and constellations were on her forelegs. Shimmering silver slippers similar to princess Luna's adorned her hooves and a pointed but tastefully crooked witch's hat completed the look.

She had closed early for the night so the three of them could enjoy the Nightmare Night carnival together, but at this rate they were never getting out of here. Even Jeeves looked restless as he stared out at the costumed ponies headed for town square.

Finally, she heard hoofsteps coming from upstairs. Her breath caught in her throat for a second as Jeeves dropped into defensive stance.

Victor made his way down the stairs, tall and regal. He had spent extra time covering up his stripes and his scars with a bit of additional makeup. His dark mane was wild and untamed despite the heavy iron crown he wore, red prosthetic horn curving from the front of it. An elegant red velvet cape covered most of his back. Heavy looking iron armor covered his chest and legs as he made his way into the front room. For a split second, both Dream Baker and Jeeves thought that King Sombra himself had descended the stairs in front of them. Until Victor opened his eyes. Those soft, pale blue eyes shone through the disguise as he smiled at Dream and reached out to touch her cheek. “You look incredible.”

She smiled, gazing into his eyes before looking him over. “You do, too. You took all of that time to make sure everything was perfect, right down to the sideburns.”

He laughed, smiling, “Yeah, I know you wanted tonight to be special.”

Nodding, she trotted over to the front door, “Shall we? The night is young, and by the grace of magic, so are we.”

#MLP #text #story #fictober20 #Dream Baker #Mordenheim #pony #unicorn #zebra #gargoyle

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lovemesomesurveys · 5 years

Text

S/O to @iaintgotcontrol for finding a new survey! lol.

Looks and Personality

What do you look like? I have a face with freckles, brown eyes, a nose, and a mouth. I wear black rimmed glasses. I have long hair that goes past my butt. I naturally have dark brown hair, but I dye it red. I’m thin. Gangly. How often do you bathe? I don’t take baths, but I shower every 1-2 days. How do you wear your hair? In a pony tail.

What colours do you tend to wear? I have a lot of black and gray with pops of other colors. Do you have any tattoos? What, where and why? No.

What kind of clothes do you wear? Comfy, casual clothes. I’m always in leggings and a comfy shirt. I own a LOT of leggings and graphic T’s. What kind of jewellery do you wear? I haven’t worn any in years. I used to wear these 3 rings I have 24/7 until one day I took them off for some reason and just never put them back on since. That was probably like 5 years ago. I went through a phase where I was all about accessorizing and wore a ton of bracelets. I wore necklaces and earrings, too. Is there anything else you often wear? I’m always wearing socks. Would you say you had a “look”? I’ve gone through different phases like the preppy/girly and emo phase, but now I’m just very casual and comfy. When going out, do you dress up or down? My going out consists of going to the doctor, the movies, or Walmart. I don’t dress up for any of those things. What do you wear to bed at home? Those comfy, causal clothes I’ve been talking about. What do you wear to bed when your somewhere else? Same thing. Is there a place you keep any prized/secret things whilst you’re away? No. What’s your favourite food? Chicken tenders, boneless chicken wings (garlic parm), burritos, potatoes in various forms, eggs, spaghetti, meatballs, and pesto pasta. What’s your favourite drink? Coffee. What’s your favourite desert? Donuts, cupcakes, muffins. What’s your favourite type of food (e.g Mexican)? American, Italian, and Mexican. Do you have any mental problems? Yes. Do you have any phobias? What? Why do you think you have this/them? Yes. Why might somebody dislike you? Because I keep to myself these days and have been very distant and withdrawn from everyone outside of my immediate family. I’m very moody. I don’t put any effort into maintaining friendships anymore. Or any effort into much of anything. I haven’t been a good friend at all to the friends I used to have. What skill do you possess that you are most proud of? I don’t feel like I have any. What is your greatest strength (e.g. honest, loyal, brave)? I... don’t know. What’s your greatest shortcoming or flaw (e.g. cowardly, alcoholic)? I have a lot of those. Who do you most admire? My mom and younger brother. Who do you most love? My family. What three things do you look for most in a partner? Good sense of humor, understanding, patient. Do you like crowds? Nooo. I don’t well with crowds. What are your hobbies? Tumblr/surveys, watching YouTube, coloring, reading, watching TV. If you can’t get to sleep in the middle of the night, what do you do? So every night? At night I do my Bible study, watch YouTube, watch TV, and read. What is your favourite animal? Dogs and giraffes. What is your favourite colour? Pastels. If you could ask God (to athiests - IF there was one) one question, what? I mean, there’s a lot I’d like to know but some things we aren’t meant to know or are beyond our comprehension. Things will be revealed when they’re meant to, if they’re meant to be. Rate yourself on these traits from 0 to 10. 0 - do not possess this trait. 10 - you have great amounts of this trait. Calm temper Charm Cheerfulness Confidence Courtesy Curiousity Forgiveness Generosity Greed Helpfulness Honesty Loyalty Optimism Patience Self-sacrafice Wit Background Where were you born and raised? California. Briefly describe your family. Loving, supportive, encouraging, funny. You must choose one - your childhood was calm/peaceful or tragic/turbulent? Calm and peaceful out of these choices. I had obstacles and struggles with health related things, but honestly those aren’t what stick out the most to me. I was a very resilient, strong kid. I’m a very weak, scared adult. Did you have any rolemodels? My mom and grandma. What is the worst thing that has ever happened to you? I’d say the incident that made me a paraplegic at 7 months old takes home the trophy for that category. How did it affect you? In every single way from that day forward. Have you ever had any recurring nightmares or themes in nightmares? Yes. As a kid I remember one of the reoccurring nightmares I had was Ghostface chasing me with a knife. I was so scared of Scream for the longest, but I love the movies now. ha. What were they? Death and being chased. Do you currently have a boyfriend/girlfriend? No. Do you have any close friends? I have my family. Briefly describe your best friend: My mom is so strong-willed and hardworking. Very giving. Very outgoing and social. She’s also very funny and sarcastic. She loves her some ID (Investigative Discovery) and Game of Thrones. Any enemies? No. Who? What are they like? Would you risk your life for your best friend?(not lover or family member!) My best friend is a family member, though. And yes. With who was your most important romantic relationship? I haven’t had a serious relationship. Of what are you most proud? :/ Of what are you most ashamed? The person I’ve become over the last 4 years. I really hate this person I’ve become. Alignment, Ethics and Religion What is your religion? Christian. Where do you stand on abortion? Where do you stand on the death penalty? I’m on the fence. Where do you stand on wearing fur? I don’t wear fur or use real leather. Do you have a moral code that you follow? What? I mean, yes? Could you kill somebody? I can’t ever imagine myself being able to do that, but it’s something you don’t really know unless you find yourself in a situation that could lead to that. For what reason would you kill somebody? The only reason I could think of is self-defense, but even then I still can’t imagine killing someone. Would you SERIOUSLY CONSIDER killing anybody right now? No, sheesh. Do you trust easily, or not? Trust isn’t a big issue with me, I just have a hard time opening up and expressing myself to people and sharing my feelings. What are your political beliefs (anarchy, communism, democracy etc.)? What, if anything, WOULD you sacrifice your life for? If it meant saving a loved one. Would you ever, for any reason, abandon your friends in an hour of need? That’s what I’ve done over these last few years. :( Motivation

What are your dreams/ambitions/goals? That’s the problem... I don’t have any. How do you plan to reach them? How would your ideal partner look? Not say looks don’t matter at all, but I’m more concerned with personality.

Do you ever want to have a family someday? With children? I can’t see that happening. Who would you want to start this family with, or do you not yet know? What would stop you from reaching your goals (e.g. death, retirement fund)? My health. What do you see yourself doing next year? I have to take it day by day, hour by hour, man. What do you see yourself doing in twenty years? Yikes. Would you ever have an affair? No, I truly don’t think so. Would you ever have a one night stand? No. What are your greatest fears? Losing my loved ones. More information If you had a month of nothing (no work, no obligations) what would you do? That’s been my life for the past few years and it hasn’t been a good thing. It dug me in a deep hole for depression. How do you relax? Listen to ASMR. What one thing would you change in this world (free Tibet, abolish Sweden)? No more violence. Would you ever choose a career or job where your life was at risk? No. Why? How would you like to be remembered after your death? “When my time comes, forget the wrong that I’ve done, help me leave behind some reasons to be missed.” Random questions Where you present at any major historical events (e.g. 9/11)? No. How did they affect you? Do you have any famous relatives? No. Do you have to try and live up to your family’s expectations? My family doesn’t put any ridiculous or impossible expectations on me. All they want is for me to be healthy and happy, but for some reason I can’t seem to get my shit together and take care of myself like I should. Are you a loyal member of any organizations? No. General Information Name: Stephanie. Age: 29. Date Of Birth: July 28th. Race: Caucasian, Mexican, and some Filipino that I know of. I really want to do one of those DNA tests to see exactly what I am. Height: I’d be about 5′4. Weight: Mid 70s (lbs). Are you happy with this? No. I need to put on some weight. Desired weight: I used to be mid 80s-low 90s. Sexual orientation: Straight. First language: English. Second/Third/Fourth etc. languages (if any): I’m only fluent in English. Why did you take this survey? I hadn’t taken it before and I wanted to do a survey.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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ageeksnerdyworld · 6 years

Text

It’s Only A Nightmare

Characters: Jett Leach, Emery Becker, Avia Carstairs, Kelly Ronan O’Connor, Isabelle Lombardi, Scribe Jenkins, Holland, and Walker

Word Count: 9,470

Trigger Warning: None of note

A/N: I’m gonna be honest here and say that I don’t think I’m going to continue with this story because I don’t feel like I’m writing it the right way. I know that sounds stupid but it’s true. I really feel like I’m doing most of these characters, and the story itself, an injustice. And as always the Cyber World and the viruses therein belong to @voiceoflarka

Parts: X,X

Summary: People are falling victim to heart attacks all over Dashland. None of the cases are alike except for that fact. The body count is growing. And so the team is sent on their first field mission. Click the read more if you want to.

~~~

Avia woke very early the following morning and went about her morning routine. In the bathroom she ran a comb through her hair a few times and then opened her makeup bag. It took her a few seconds to find what she wanted but she lined the pieces neatly along the edge of the sink. Taking her lipstick she pulled the cap off and turned the bottom of the tube. The red stick emerged from the tube and she ran it along her lips. Pressing her lips together she reached for a napkin from inside her makeup bag. The napkin had been stained from previous lipsticks she had worn and had spots of blue, purple, and various shades of red all over it. She turned the napkin inside out for a clean spot and pressed it in between her lips.

She returned the lipstick to her bag and picked up a tube of mascara. Avia opened it and pulled the stick in and out of the tube a couple of times before bringing it to her face. Her eyes met her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She froze up with the mascara stick in her hand hovering just barely above her eyelashes. Usually when she did her makeup her eyes focused on her face or their own dark reflections in the mirror. But that morning they immediately hit the reflection of the crack. The crack, events from the night before, that sharply cut its way along her forehead. It looked like it was healing. Slowly but surely it would eventually fade.

Her hand shook.

A tear ran down her cheek.

With the mascara still in her hand she gripped the sides of the sink. Her arms unnaturally shook. Her knuckles turned white and her eyes went wide. She looked down into the bowl of the sink. Her hair fell down, and forward into her eyes, and her bottom lip quivered. The tears continued to fall. She bit her bottom lip, in an attempt to distract her mind and, to try and stop them.

A hand grabbed hold of her right shoulder and gave her a shake.

“You okay?”

Avia turned her head and her black eyes looked in the direction of the voice.

There in the doorway, leaning against the frame with arms crossed over his chest, stood Emery. He wore the same outfit he had worn the night before; black tank and black sweatpants. His arms, which were bare under the sleeveless tank top, were in plain view and Avia realized that it was the first time she could see all of his tattoos. His hair was still covered in the dye from the night before but now it was covered in clear shower cap. The mess of colors showed through the thin plastic.

She nodded slightly and muttered; “Yeah. I’m fine.”

“You expect me to believe that,” he said with a scoff. “I’ve seen that thousand yard stare you got on many times before, Princess.”

“Did you just come over here to ridicule me or do you have something constructive to say for once?”

“Like I’ve said I’ve seen that look before. Just wanted to let ya know I’m here if you wanna talk.”

“As if I would ever look to you for help,” her voice harsh and bitter.

“Then talk to your boy toy or your old man. Just don’t shut yourself out, alright.”

Emery turned and left; leaving Avia to finish up in peace. She thought about what he had said as she put on some eyeshadow. She couldn’t be shutting herself out. She had to be in to cut herself off from the others. And she was definitely sure she wasn’t an actual part of the group yet. It was true that she and Kelly had been dating for some time but that wasn’t the same thing. The others seemed to gel together almost effortlessly since they had been set up as a team. Jett and Emery had already known one other prior to coming to the Academy. Jett’s younger sister was also a student. Kelly was the kind of person who could walk into any room and find someone to talk to. Or talk at in his case. Isabelle was a little ball of sunshine. And Holland was the embodiment of chill. It only made sense that the three of them bonded quickly with everyone.

Avia had no idea where or how to start.

She sighed and left the bathroom.

XXXXX

The group arrived at the station sometime around noon. Detective Root was waiting for them at his desk. His hair was a bit disheveled and his stubble seemed to have filled in a bit more. A mug of coffee sat on the desk to this immediate left. A small stack of files lay on the desk next to the mug. Deep in thought, looking at some papers, he hadn’t noticed the group arrive.

Holland loudly cleared their throat to get the detective’s attention.

“Oh, uh, sorry kids. Long night,” he said with a tired smile.

“You alright, Detective,” Jett asked; trying to hide the worry in his voice.

He nodded; “Yeah. Just tired. Hey, kid, care to get a cup of coffee for an old man? Go a bit back where you all came from and go down the hallway. Break room’s just there on your left.”

Jett shrugged and took the empty mug from the detective’s outstretched hand. He turned and made his way to the break room. Once inside he looked for the coffee maker which sat on the counter in the back of the room. He walked around the small folding table and chairs. The counter was dark gray and had a few cupboards that hung on the wall above it. The coffeemaker was the kind that you just set the cup underneath, pressed a button, and it made the coffee itself. Jett set the mug underneath it and pressed the button for one cup of plain black coffee. It took a few seconds but then the coffee poured out, in a thin stream, into the cup. The smell of freshly brewed coffee brought back memories of his parents and his home.

“What’re you doing here?” a voice said from behind him.

Jett turned around with a scared look on his face.

There stood Sarge Rajah. He wore the traditional police officer uniform with the bottom hem of his pants tucked neatly into the boots he wore. And he stood in a readied stance; hand just above his taser. The cop’s brow was furrowed in anger and his lips were pursed together. His eyes, which were black with a small rim of yellow, were closed slightly and contained a look of pure fury. The red coloring on the scales around his eyes seemed to make his expression all the more terrifying. But his expression completely changed when Jett turned around.

“Oh, uh, sorry about that. Thought you were someone else.”

Jett muttered that it was alright. He explained to the cop that he was just getting coffee for the detective. Rajah crossed the floor; boots tapping against the tile with each step. His tail moved from side to side as he walked making a slight swishing sound. The cop was talking about something but Jett didn’t hear a single thing. The sound of the boots against the tile floor reminded him of another sound. The unforgettable sound of heels against concrete. Jett felt his body tense up as the cop walked up behind him and laid a hand on his shoulder.

“You okay?”

Jett nodded and grabbed the cup from underneath the coffee maker. Rajah was looking for something in the cupboards but Jett knew he was faking it. He knew exactly what was about to happen, having been through it so many times before, and he really didn’t want to deal with it at the moment. So he turned on his heels and walked away. The cop started to reach for his arm but immediately dropped his hand. As Jett reached the door Rajah loudly cleared his throat. Jett sighed and turned back.

“Sorry about your parents. I used to go to there all the time. Your mom made the best damn snickerdoodles I’ve ever had.”

“Something else you want, officer? I have to get back to the others.”

“Guess you don’t remember but I was one of the ones on the scene that night. The image of that stays with you, you know?”

“You have no idea,” Jett said tersely.

“I’m really sorry we never found her. I really am,” he said shaking his head sadly. Jett said nothing. He gave the cop a look and then left him alone in the room.

“Your parents were real good people. They didn’t deserve that,” Rajah called after him.

Yeah, they really didn’t, he thought to himself.

He walked up to the others, mug in hand, and passed it to the detective before joining the others. Root gave him an appreciative nod and took a sip. Emery and Walker both gave Jett a curious, somewhat worried, look. But he ignored their looks and shoved his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. Root explained that the rest of his team were given copies of the newest victim’s file. Holland gave Jett a copy of a file and he opened it.

The file was on the young sprite they found the previous night. The detective explained that the picture of the young virus had been provided by the victim’s family. It was a selfie in which, he had an arm around a friend, he stuck his tongue out and held up a peace sign. One of his eyes was closed in a winking expression. A large wisp of his sea-green soul flowed from his open eye. His hair was a bit shorter, a lighter shade blonde, in the picture. In the picture the kid was the complete opposite of the way they had found him.

The other picture had to be taken hours after the group had found his body the night before. Maybe it was taken very early that morning; Jett didn’t know. But the boy had been dead some time when the photo had been taken. His once sea-green veins were now pitch black like ink. His brown eyes were faded, expressionless, and dead. The small crack that ran across of the bridge of his nose was still there. And now it would never heal. According to the file his name was Flask Antonsson.

“Eleven,” Jett whispered.

Legacy Root nodded solemnly; “Our perp clearly doesn’t have issues with offing kids. Which makes a hell of a lot of sense if you think about it.”

“Whaddya mean, sir,” Kelly asked.

“Remember when I said he wasn’t your garden variety Empath? Well it turns out that all of the rumors, and hearsay, about Nonagon were right. He’s a Nightmare Aura.”

“Oh shite.”

“No fucking way, man! No. No. I’m done. I’m gone.” Emery said.

He turned and stomped off; leaving the others with shocked looks on their faces. Reaching the door he lifted his arm ready to push the door open and exit the station. But suddenly the small form of Isabelle immediately blocked his way. She stood with her arms crossed over her chest; an angry look in her eyes. A small portion of the handle of her flail gun poked out from underneath her arms and rested against her right arm. The remainder of the handle and the chain was hanging down from her right hand. The spiked ball lightly swung back and forth.

“Move it, Short Stuff,” he threatened.

“You’re not doing this, alright. You’re not going to just bail on this super important, and graded, mission.”

“If you think I really care about grades then you don’t know me at all,” he said with a scoff.

“You really want to bail on your team. On your best friend?” the disappointment, clearly written on her face and, ringing through her voice.

Emery turned and looked back to where Jett and the others were standing. It was then that he noticed the terrified and pleading look in Jett’s eyes. He ran a hand through his hair and looked at the ground. He really didn’t want to do this. Fighting this guy once was more than enough. Holland and Avia both had been badly hurt. Jett had been horribly shaken and thrown into an episode. And who the hell knew what would happen next? But he couldn’t leave Jett to handle this himself. The others didn’t understand what was going on with him. Emery was the only who could pull him out if it happened again. He had to stay whether he liked it or not.

He nodded and whispered, his voice barely audible, “You’re right, Isabelle. I can’t bail on him.”

Isabelle put a hand on Emery’s back and the two walked back to the group.

XXXXX

The detective had left to grab some lunch for the group as well as himself. He left Jett in charge of the others which surprised no one. He had also given the group the task of memorizing what the police had on Nonagon. Walker’s eyes followed Legacy as he trotted out the door. Their eyes narrowed on the detective as he left the station. Once he had walked through the front doors Walker got off the desk and walked away from the group; seemingly heading for the bathroom. Shortly after the detective left Avia cleared her throat and got the attention of the group.

“What is it, Av,” Jett asked.

“I figured out something last night. I think it might help our investigation quite a lot,” she said.

“Share with the class why dontcha?” Emery asked.

Avia rolled her eyes and asked Holland to hand her the map that was sitting on the detective’s desk. She unfurled it on the floor in the middle of the circle of chairs. She asked the others to put something down on the sides of the map so that it stayed in place. The map was a map exclusively of Dashland. Avia went behind the detective’s desk and opened the top drawer. She grabbed a small pack of white dot stickers and shut the drawer.

Then she explained to the others what she discovered.

“So, here’s where the first victim, Enjay Sno, was found,” she said putting a white dot on the map.

Then she put a dot on the place where all of the other victims’ bodies were found. The dots made some sort of shape with about one obvious outlier. She took a pen from the detective’s desk and colored one of the dots black. Avia placed that dot on the spot where they had faced Fiyero Nonagon.

“He has to live, or at least be hiding out, in this area somewhere.”

“You’re so smart, ean beag,” Kelly said; embracing her and giving her a kiss on the cheek.

“Ew. Stop. Please stop,” Emery said; covering his eyes and looking away.

Jett stared at the collection of white dots all over the map. All of the dots were closer together except for the very first one. They weren’t in a cluster or anything. And they weren’t within blocks of one another. The dots, and the bodies they represented, were close enough to all be in the same general area. But then there was Enjay Sno’s body and corresponding dot. That dot was almost in a different district. It didn’t make any sense.

He looked up and asked Avia what she thought about that.

“It’s an outlier. There are always outliers in cases like this. Or he was—”

“Figuring out what he liked to do best. Statistically speaking, most serial killers will commit a few murders far before they start a spree and usually away from their home turf.” Scribe said. She had cut Avia off mid sentence but didn’t notice at first. Then her eyes went wide and her mouth formed a small “O” shape when she realized what she did. But Avia didn’t seem to mind. She just looked over at Scribe for a few seconds then nodded, approvingly, and gave the girl a small smile.

“Um… Okay… but why would they do that?” Holland asked.

“Because they haven’t decided how they want to kill their victims. Or what message they want to send.” Avia said.

“I have something else that might help,” Scribe said.

The others looked over to her and the sudden attention freaked her out a bit and she calmed up. She shook out the ends of her sweater sleeves so that they covered her hands. She started to twist the fabric over and in between her fingers; staring at the floor. Avia encouraged her to tell the group. Scribe took a deep breath and then told the others about the connection she found.

Avia nodded; impressed. Scribe smiled.

“Why didn’t either of you say something when the detective was here?” Holland asked; genuinely confused.

“Because,” Avia said, “a certain somebody had to be a big drama queen.”

“Oh, so, I’ve moved up from caveman? Awesome,” Emery replied; rolling his eyes.

“Good to see you all getting along again,” the detective’s voice called from behind the group. He had bags of food for the group and set them on his desk. Legacy motioned for the teenagers to take what they wanted. He apologized that he didn’t ask what they wanted beforehand. But the group didn’t really care. They were there to help him with his case not to be pampered or have fun. Kelly and Jett rose from their seats and began doling out hamburgers and fries to the others.

“So,” Legacy said; standing on the outskirts of the group. “What were you all talking about while I was gone?”

Jett explained to the detective what the others had found out. Every so often Avia or Scribe would interrupt and correct Jett or explain something he had forgotten to mention. Legacy stood, listening intently, and writing down a few notes every now and then. When the part about the map came up he knelt down on the floor and scrutinized the dots on it. His eyes narrowed in concentration and he ran a finger along the shape that the dots created. Tapping the circle in the middle of the shape he nodded approvingly.

“Great job,” he said; clearly impressed with the group.

They spent the next half hour enjoying their lunch. The detective asked the group where Walker had went and Holland explained. Legacy’s eyes narrowed and asked if any of them found that a bit suspicious. The entire group gave a collective shrug and gave varying replies of “no.” Holland leaned over and explained that the group just gave Walker their space because the alternative was difficult.

Legacy asked what that meant but Holland didn’t answer.

Kelly started to say that Walker was the type of person who wanted to keep their life private. That got him talking about how most people had things they never shared with anyone. Then he pointed to Holland and explained to the detective that they were pretty much a walking, talking, open book. But then that got him talking about how Holland didn’t have any siblings. Then he got to talking about his younger brother. Somehow Kelly got on the subject of cowboys and the history of the gun fights. No one knew how he got there.

With Kelly finally done, and Walker suddenly back, Legacy decided that the group got going to talk to the family of the most recent victim.

“And after that we’ve got a lot of ground to cover, kids.”

Legacy walked out to the car and most of the group followed. Kelly didn’t go with the others, and jogged off to the bathroom, saying that he would join them in a minute. Jett stayed behind. He knelt in a squatting position and stared at the map.

“Let’s go bag us a bad guy!” Isabelle cried pumping her fist in the air. Scribe winced slightly at the volume of her voice. Isabelle quickly apologized. Avia subtly fell into step with the pair. Walking on the left side of Scribe she asked what Scribe thought about the patterns. Both patterns seemed a bit coincidental but Avia wasn’t sure why. And she really wanted to know what Scribe thought about it. The three girls piled into the van; talking shop. Holland and Emery piled in after them.

Jett felt a sense of déjà vu since the start of the case but he couldn’t explain why. And now he felt that there was something familiar about where the bodies had been found. Or where they had been placed. He took his phone out of the front pocket of his jeans and took a picture of the configuration.

He quickly texted the picture to Emery, as well as his little sister, with the same message. It read; this look familiar or just me?

Emery immediately texted back; never seen it before in my life.

That’s when he remembered what Fiyero Nonagon had said to him.

“Oh, crap,” he said. “I forgot to tell the others about the—”

Jett rushed over to the door. Once he was outside he felt a hand on his shoulder. The sensation made him freeze up and pulled him out of his train of thought. The hand pulled him back inside the station.

“Better save it for later, don’t you think?”

“Um, yeah,” he said.

Walker nodded and patted Jett on the shoulder. They let go and motioned for Jett to walk in front of them. Jett and Walker piled into van; sitting in the middle row of seats with Emery and Walker. Kelly took the front seat next to the detective. With the entire group in the van the detective pulled out of the parking lot of the police station and drove to their destination.

XXXXX

The mother and father of the deceased didn’t have much information to add to their investigation. They let the group inside their apartment and said that they could look in their son’s room if they wanted. But other than that they had nothing to give. They hadn’t heard of anyone named Fiyero Nonagon. And they hadn’t seen anyone meeting his description around the area. Legacy sent the team around the house while he interviewed the parents.

Jett went into the boy’s room while the others looked through other areas of the Antonsson residence. Walker followed him. Emery tried to go as well but the detective told him to look somewhere else.

Emery grumbled but he went to search one of the other rooms.

The boy’s name was displayed on the door to his room with a series of large colorful felt letters. A small hand written sign on a piece of blank white paper was taped to the door underneath the letters. The note read; no parents allowed. Jett turned the knob, opened the door, and the pair walked inside. The boy’s room looked as if it had just been cleaned. But at the same time it looked a shrine to his memory. His bed was neatly made and the pillows sat peacefully against the headboard. A small faux wood grain skateboard leaned against the back wall of the room; underneath a window. There was a closet built into the wall next to the bed and a dresser was shoved up against the adjacent wall only a few feet from the door.

A desk sat across from the bed. The desk was messy and filled with miscellaneous papers, pens, and colored pencils. A large sketchbook also set on the desk. The sketchbook was open to an unfinished series of sketches. A couple notebooks sat next to the sketchbook. Jett grabbed one of the notebooks and flipped through it. Walker walked over to the dresser and opened up the drawers and began tossing clothes on the floor.

“Texas Ranger? What’re you doing?”

“What does it look like?”

“I don’t think his parents will be okay with you messing with their son’s things.”

“Says the guy rifling through the kid’s notebook.”

“But clothes are—”

“Are what, Leach?”

Jett stared at Walker for a minute before speaking; “Are you alright, dude? You seem, uh, you seem a little off.”

“As compared to what exactly?”

Jett shrugged. Walker scoffed and stormed out of the room. They left the top drawer of the dresser open and the clothes strewn about the room. Jett sighed and went about fixing the mess. Walker walked out in the backyard and told Emery that Jett needed help. Emery gave them a sideways glance but he ran back inside. Walker stood in the Antonsson’s backyard and stared out at the neighborhood around them. They sighed and thought about their little escapade the night before.

But the mostly thought about what that annoying trickster told them.

And what she told them by proxy.

Walker replayed the conversation in their mind; mulling over what was said and what wasn’t. They had thought they were completely along but then the madrid appeared in a puff of smoke. He mocked them and said that they kept old habits. It was true but the way the virus had said it made Walker feel like a stupid child. Then he called them that phrase whatever the hell it meant.

“What do you want?”

“What makes you think I want anything from you,” he asked; closing the gap between him and Walker with every step.

“Oh, yeah, that’s right. You’re just a lapdog being ordered around. Sorry, I forgot,” they said; matching the venomous mockery in the virus’s voice.

“You’re a funny one, الأرنب الصغير,” he replied, wagging a finger in Walker’s direction, smirking.

“I’m strange and off-putting,” Walker said as they pulled their goggles over their head and turned to face the virus behind him. They saw the male virus nodding slightly in agreement. He was standing with his arms crossed over his chest, with an expectant, and somewhat irritated, look on his face.

He towered over Walker’s form by a good margin. He was the tallest virus Walker had ever met and it honestly freaked them out. Despite his height he wasn’t as lanky as one would expect. His tan arm and leg muscles were lean and toned. His hair and thin beard were black. He wore a form fitting, light gray, blazer jacket and a plain white dress shirt underneath. The muscles in his chest could be seen underneath the layers. The sleeves were cut off, turning the shirt and jacket into a vest, and his arms were naked in the cold, night, air. An intricate, black ink, henna tattoo started at his right wrist and ran up his arm; stopping just before his elbow. A section of Arabic script ran along the top of his wrist just before the rest of the tattoo. Walker didn’t know, nor could they read, the language so they had no clue what the words said or meant. The virus’s other arm was a prosthetic. It started at the shoulder and was, black and white in color, clearly high tech and very sleek. He also wore a pair of black jogger pants with zippered pockets on either said. Two small pouches, on either side of his pants, were attached via straps that buckled on the inside of his thighs. Walker knew that the right pant leg was hiding another prosthetic; one that was black and looked like a mess of wiring. The virus’s outfit was complete with a red tie and a pair of black, air mesh, running shoes.

“You following me just ‘cause you can or you actually have something to say, genie.”

In a puff of smoke he disappeared and then reappeared with his bodily hand around Walker’s throat.

They felt their windpipe being crushed. They couldn’t breathe. Their lungs burned in pain. The madrid virus tightened his grip around their throat and lifted Walker into the air with one hand. His other hand lay at his side; fingers clenched into a fist. His light brown eyes, usually bright and playful, now ballooned in flames that licked at the edges of his face. This “party trick” as he had referred to it tended to scare most people. But Walker had seen it many times before and wasn’t a bit scared. What they were scared of what the madrid’s strength. Even though they knew that he wasn’t using his full strength they still had reason to be scared; having seen what he could do with that power. Even so they felt their grip on reality slipping as the already dark night darkened further around them.

“What did you call me?” he asked; voice dripping with anger.

“Fu—funny that—ah—that word bothered you, Kha—Khalid and not lap dog,” Walker said as they struggled against the virus’s grip. Their knuckles were white as they tried to pull the hand off their throat. In the back of their mind they knew that it was pointless but they were hurting. They weren’t thinking clearly. They were running on instincts.

“You’re lucky I can’t kill you, because you’d have been dead long before, الأحمق,” he threatened; dropping Walker on the roof.

Their throat burned and they coughed in pain. Despite their better judgment a hand instinctively flew to the hurt area and began to rub along the skin. Khalid closed the gap and stood directly in front of Walker. His large form shrouded them in a massive dark shadow. He stared down at Walker his eyes still engulfed in flame; hand of his prosthetic was still an angry fist.

“I came here for a progress report. But…” he said with a deep chuckle and a smile that revealed his sharp canines. “after tonight? I’m pretty sure she’ll want an in person testimony from you instead. Be seeing you, الأرنب الصغير.”

“I still don’t know what that means,” Walker said. But Khalid was gone. All that was there was a cloud of dissipating black smoke.

Walker blinked, bringing their self back to the present moment, and realized that they had a hand wrapped around their own throat. They dropped the hand and sighed. Staring up at the sky they yell out a loud, desperate, scream. They didn’t know what else to do. They didn’t have any other options.

They fell on their knees and stared at the ground. This dichotomy of their intentions, their soul, was so difficult. They owed it to her to help. They literally owed their life to that woman. But at the same time they didn’t see the point of her goals. The Leach kid wasn’t doing anything to actively sabotage those goals. She literally had everything she sought after; everything she had worked towards for so many years. What more could she possibly want?

His head handed over on a damn platter. Or his bent knee, they thought.

They really only had two options. They could stick it out, keeping their secrets, until things eventually fell into their proper place. Then when everything blew over they could leave, again, and start a new life somewhere else. Become someone else. It worked well in the past so they had no doubts that it would be troublesome this time around.

The other option wasn’t something they really felt like considering. But it still arose in the back of their mind. There was the option of coming clean to the others. They would be pissed to say the least but maybe the group would eventually come to understand the dilemma Walker was faced with. And they could always lie to her when they went in for their “progress report.” But then she could, no, she would use her powers on them and make them do what she wanted. They would be just like Khalid and the others.

“What the hell do I do?” they whispered to the open air.

XXXXX

When Legacy had finished interviewing the parents he called for the group to reconvene. They were done and had other leads to check out. Legacy thanked the boy’s parents for their time and gave them his card. He told them to call if they thought of, or remembered, anything that would help. Then the group went to talk to the friend in the photo that Flask’s parents provided.

The friend’s name was Daenerys Saffron Carlisle. She lived only a few blocks from the Antonsson residence so it was a short drive.

The young virus’s parents opened the door when the detective knocked. Her mother and father were more than happy to help. They let the group inside and the mother offered snacks and coffee. Legacy politely declined for the entire group and Emery protested. The mother laughed and went into the kitchen anyway.

“We were hoping to look around your house and talk to your daughter if that’s alright, Mr. Carlisle,” Legacy said to the girl’s father.

He was pretty much the exact opposite of his wife; tall and built like a brick house. He had a square jaw and a small scar along the left side of his face. His dark gray eyes were hard and angry. His voice was deep and gruff as he said that he would get her. With that he left the group alone in the family’s living room.

After a few minutes the father and the girl entered the living room.

The girl was young, still a sprite it seemed, and rather petite. Her hair was a dark brown which was a stark contrast to the platinum blonde she had in the photo the group had seen. It was cut in a longer angled bob and the bangs covered her left eye. The eye that wasn’t covered by her hair was a light honey brown color. Her veins were a bright lilac and ran along her arms and legs. She wore a plain, sleeveless, navy blue dress with a bright red belt that hung around her waist. Her outfit was brought together with a pair of black flats.

She took a seat on the couch next to her father.

Isabelle noticed that the girl’s eyes were rimmed red. It was obvious that she was deeply grieving.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” she said; reaching out and resting her hand over the girl’s. Daenerys nodded her thanks.

“If you don’t want to talk to us right now that’s quite alright,” Avia said.

Her father spoke for her and said that she was fine with answering any of their questions. Isabelle and Avia both crossed their arms over their chest and shared identical angry looks. The detective nodded and went about his questioning. While Legacy ran through the questions he had prepared the young girl stared down at her feet. The mother returned to the living room with a platter of cookies, small cakes, and cups of tea.

The girl gave them short few word answers and never looked up.

With the interview over Legacy guided the group out of the house. They all piled into the van except for Isabelle who stood on the sidewalk; staring back at the house. She told the others she forgot something and ran back inside. She asked the girl’s parents where their daughter went and then she rushed up the stairs to the girl’s bedroom. Isabelle stopped short of the door and ran her hands along the sides of her skirt. Then she knocked on the door.

Daenerys opened the door slowly.

“Hi,” Isabelle said smiling.

“Um… hi?”

“Can I come in? Is that okay?”

“Why?” the girl asked suspiciously.

“Thought you’d need a friend for a little while,” Isabelle said with a shrug.

The girl nodded and opened the door. Isabelle stepped inside and Daenerys closed the door behind her. Her walls of her room were painted a bright yellow. She had a small dresser that was shoved in the back corner of the room. Various pictures and photographs hung on thin wire all around the room; attached via various colored clothespins. A camera sat on the nightstand next to the girl’s bed. Daenerys went over to her bed and sat down on the edge. She tapped her hand on the empty space next to her. Isabelle sat down her face beaming from ear to ear.

“I like your pictures, did you take them yourself?” Isabelle said pointing to a photo of a squirrel nestled in pile of leaves.

Daenerys nodded. Isabelle explained that she also liked photography.

The pair talked about photography and Isabelle told the young sprite girl about a few tricks she learned over the years. Daenerys pointed to the necklace that hung from Isabelle’s neck and asked her about it. Isabelle politely explained what it was and why she kept it. She told Daenerys about all the adventures she and her parents would have before she moved to Dashland to go the Academy.

“Your parents sound really cool, and nice,” Daenerys said; looking towards the door of her room.

“I know you already talked to the detective about this and I’m sorry to bring it up again but do you remember anything strange happening before Flask passed away?”

“Died. People say passed away when they want to be nicer about death. But death isn’t nice and Flask died.”

A tear ran down the girl’s cheek and Isabelle held her hand; tight.

“I couldn’t say this in front of Dad, but, there was something that happened. It was a few days before? I think? Maybe it was a week. I don’t know. But something did happen before he died.”

“You can tell me. It’s alright.”

Daenerys took a deep breath before continuing; “There was this man who showed up on our street. He was weird and looked homeless. Me and Flask were just walking around getting away from my parents for a bit, you know? And he was there on the other side of the street. I thought he was scary but Flask didn’t. He went right up and talked to him.”

Isabelle nodded; “What did he look like? The homeless man?”

“His hair was long and dirty. He had this long coat on. It was really gross and had all these stains on it. His shoes were black and his eyes were big and scary.”

“Did he say anything to you?”

The girl shook her head; “No. He only talked to Flask because he went up to the man.”

“What did Flask do when he came back to where you were?”

“He laughed at me for thinking the guy was scary. And then we just went back to what we were talking about before.”

“So he never told you what the homeless man said?”

Daenerys shook her head. Isabelle thanked her for giving her what she could. She gave the girl a long hug and told her that everything would be okay. She got off her bed and walked over to the door. Before leaving the room she turned back and told the girl that she was sure that one day her photographs would be in some museum somewhere. Isabelle said that she would make sure that she would be there to see it. Daenerys smiled.

XXXXX

Legacy drove the group back to the church where they had found Seneca Orion’s body. He thought it would be best to look into the more recent victims instead of the other way around. The trail had already gone cold on the first four at this point. In his mind there was no point in asking the relatives and friends of those victims anything this far into the investigation. They would’ve most likely forgotten all the important information they knew.

Isabelle told the group what she found out from Daenerys on the drive over.

The detective was impressed. So were Scribe and Avia.

“Should we be going around and asking people if they’ve seen any creepy looking homeless people in the area?” Holland asked.

“It’s a good lead,” Legacy said as he pulled the van into the church parking lot.

“Besides it’s the only lead we have at the moment. When I describe Nonagon to the victims’ families and relatives no one seems to have seen anyone. But now someone has come forward with a less vivid description of the same man. It’s too good to pass up.”

The group exited the van and walked back into the church. Unlike a few days prior the church was brightly lit with the midday sun. The colored stained glass windows had colored the rays of sunlight that ran through them. This time the body had been removed from the scene of the crime and so had the police tape. But the church was still empty. The group’s steps echoed through the vacant sermon room as they walked down the aisle.

Jett tapped the detective on the shoulder.

“I have something you need to know, Detective.”

A loud crash interrupted the group’s movement.

Those with weapons readied themselves for a fight. Avia pulled her rapier from its scabbard. Kelly tightened his grip around the handle of his axe/war hammer. Isabelle pulled the chain of her flail; separating the spiked ball from the handle. She held the handle in her right hand, finger on the trigger, and the chain in her left. Scribe had already disappeared with her camouflage ability. Walker reached behind their back for their nunchucks. Jett looked around the church; scared.

“Sorry! Sorry! That was me!”

A young male satyr virus emerged from behind the altar. His light brown hair curled about his horns and his youthful face. His eyes looked dark but changed to a bright orange when the light hit them. He wore a white robe over a pair of black slacks and a white shirt. He was carrying a small candelabra, a series of folded church pamphlets, and a worn bible.

The group gave a collective sigh and lowered their weapons.

“What’s your name kid?” Legacy asked.

“They really start you guys this fucking young?” Emery asked at the same time; disdain ringing in his voice.

“It’s Trent, sir. Trent Crawley,” he said; turning to Emery with a look of disgust. “Yes they do. I’m more than happy to do the good Lord’s work. And there’s no swearing in the Lord’s house.”

Emery rolled his eyes but said nothing. The detective asked the boy if it was alright if they talked to him about a few things. He looked around sheepishly and said that he wasn’t sure. He was supposed to take the stuff to Father Montgomery. And the man did not like to be kept waiting. Walker gave the kid a sideways glance but the boy didn’t seem to notice.

Legacy convinced the kid that it was alright and the boy sat in the nearest pew.

“Did you know someone named Seneca Orion?”

The boy nodded; “He died. Father Montgomery said that everyone must go when the Lord calls them.”

“Did the priest tell you the truth? Did he tell you that Seneca was murdered right over there?” Walker asked; pointing to the altar.

All the color washed from Trent’s face. He hurriedly grabbed the things he had set down and hopped off the pew. He apologized and said that he had to leave. The boy turned heel and ran off. Detective Root called for him to come back but it was of no use. Jett rose to race after the boy but Kelly had already beat him to it.

“Way to go sociopath,” Holland muttered under their breath.

XXXXX

Kelly quickly caught up with the kid as he ducked down a long hallway. The kid turned around with wide, fear-filled, eyes. He dropped the items he carried and reached inside the pocket of his robe. He pulled a small vial out of the pocket.

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay. Yer alright, ceann beag, I’m not going to hurt ye.”

The boy splashed holy water in Kelly’s face.

“Sweet Mary and the wee baby Jesus,” he said with a slight chuckle of disbelief. “I’m not a fucking demon.”

“Wha—What do you want?”

“I just wanna talk ta ye, Trent. I’m sorry about what my teammate said back there.”

The boy looked down at the floor and said nothing. He knelt down and started to collect the things he had dropped. Kelly knelt down and helped the boy gather the items. Trent gave him a half surprised and half suspicious look. The boy got up off the ground and waited for Kelly to hand over the items he had picked up. But the lanky teen did not.

Trent shrugged and walked down the hallway.

For awhile the pair walked in silence. Kelly began whistling the tune of some half-forgotten hymn. The boy joined in humming along.

After awhile they stopped in front of a door near the end of the hallway. Trent explained that this was Father Montgomery’s office. Trent whispered that the father might not be happy to know that the police were there and so that it was better if he just stayed outside. Kelly smirked and said that he wasn’t police. He explained that if Father Montgomery had a problem with him being there the father would have to take it up him.

Trent knocked on the door.

“Come in, boy,” an old and gruff voice called from behind the door.

Kelly turned the handle and the two of them walked through. The office was neat and clean. An oak desk sat a few feet away from a large window that face the opposite side of the street. A large bookshelf ran along the right hand wall. A few chairs sat on the side of the desk opposite the large black office chair. The priest was sitting at the desk, glasses resting on the bridge of his nose, reading something. His hair was gray and turning white at the edges. Wrinkles and crow’s feet lined his face. He looked up to see a tall, lanky, ginger human virus standing next to Trent and he eyed Kelly suspiciously.

“Who is this?”

“A believer,” Kelly said. “I’ve been looking for a new church since I left my home district. And it seems to me that yours might just be the place, Father.”

“Hmm,” the priest said; looking Kelly up and down. He got up, walked around the desk, giving Kelly a hard look as he walked. Stopping just a few inches from Kelly’s face he stared into the teen’s deep blue eyes. Kelly stared right back. After a few minutes he broke eye contact and turned to Trent.

“Leave those things with me and give this young man whatever he needs.”

Trent froze and looked at Kelly with wide eyes. His mouth dropped open in confusion. Kelly straightened his posture and gave the kid a hard stare.

“You heard the father.”

Confused, and somewhat afraid, Trent put the things on the priest desk. His hands shook slightly but he tried to hide it. Father Montgomery gave the boy a nod and he backed away from the desk. He stood there for a second; still confused to what was going on. Then he lead Kelly out of the office and back into the hallway.

Kelly let out a sigh once they were out of earshot.

“Never lied to a priest before,” he said with a nervous chuckle. “First time for everything I guess.”

As they walked back to where the others were Kelly told the kid about himself. He showed the kid a few of his tattoos, mostly Celtic in design but with heavy Christian elements, and explained their meanings. Trent asked him if they hurt and Kelly didn’t lie. Each one hurt. And they hurt a lot. The boy said something about his brother having a large, very scary looking, tattoo on his back. And that the father didn’t like it and banned his brother from the church after that. Tears began to fall down the boy’s face and Kelly told him that it would alright. He told the boy about his mom and his younger brother. About how he felt this deep connection to a man he barely met and almost didn’t remember anymore.

Then Kelly asked him about Seneca.

Trent bit his bottom lip and didn’t say anything until they had joined the rest of the group.

The young satyr virus explained that Seneca was adopted by the church and raised inside its walls. He was as well. The church tended to take in a few babies every couple years or so just in case some of the viruses were on verge of being left in the care of the Nurseries. Emery interrupted to say that being raised in a Nursery was just fine. That he turned out just fine. Trent rolled his eyes at the comment.

He went on to say that Seneca was sort of like the parental figure he never had.

Most of the people in the church didn’t treat him very well. They saw him, if they remembered him at all, as sort of a part of the church. As a piece of the stonework or a section of the pews. But Seneca was different. They looked at Trent and actually saw a person. They treated him like any normal person would treat a child.

“Did ye see anyone strange before Seneca died?” Kelly asked.

“There was this homeless man who came in a couple times. Father Montgomery turned him away a few times. But Seneca let him in and gave him some food. Seneca was always a nice person.”

Trent went on to say that he often looked for the homeless man. He didn’t want the guy to freeze somewhere now that the temperatures were dropping. When the young boy finished his story the group exited the church. Standing on the church steps the detective told the group that they should probably set up an ambush in the church. According to the young satyr’s story Fiyero Nonagon had frequented the church prior to the murder he committed. Just like the story of the young sprite he killed.

Maybe it was a bit wishful thinking but this was the strongest lead they had.

Nonagon had nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide.

Jett cleared his throat and started to tell the detective what he had forgotten to say before. But his phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out and saw a text from his sister. She didn’t recognize the shape. He texted her that maybe it wasn’t a shape but half of one. She still didn’t see anything familiar about it. He asked Emery about the shape but he didn’t recognize it either.

But Jett couldn’t shake the feeling.

XXXXX

They hid around the church until night fell.

It was a long, quiet, few hours.

Emery and Jett hid together and talked amongst themselves to pass the time. Jett held a flame in his hand to give the two of them a little light. He turned to Emery with an upset look on his face; his nose crinkled in confusion and his ears flattened against his head in anger.

“I just know there’s something about it.”

“Bro, it’s not even a shape. It’s a bunch of fucking dots on a map.”

“Dude, be honest. Did you even look at it?”

A hand flew to Emery’s mouth in shock; “How could you accuse me of such a thing? I’m shocked, appalled, and very, very, offended.”

Jett gave him a light shove and Emery pretended to be severely hurt. They joked and laughed it off.

Meanwhile Avia and Kelly were sitting together on the opposite side of the street. Kelly sat on the concrete; back leaning against the brick building behind him. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket. His warhammer sat in the ground the handle just a few inches from his hand.

He grabbed Avia by the hand and pulled her into an embrace.

“Something wrong?” she asked.

Kelly shook his head and just held her close. She let him hold her there; their warmth melding together. After a few minutes his hands dropped from around her body and fell at his side. He looked into her deep black eyes and bent down to give her a kiss on the forehead. His lips lightly pressed against the crack there. He pulled away but she quickly wrapped her arms around his neck.

“I know something’s up. What is it, babe?”

“I’m so scared, ean beag. What if he messes with one of us again? And what’s gonna happen if it’s Holly a second time? Would they be able to go through all that again? What if you get—”

She pressed a finger to his lips; shushing him.

“It’s going to be okay, babe.”

“You don’t know that,” he said shaking his head and looking down at the ground.

“I think I do. It’s going to be okay because this time we’re not going into this fight like idiots. We actually know what we’re dealing with so we can beat him this time. And besides if all else fails somebody’s bound to see what happens and call the cops. Or those virus assassins you’re always on about.”

“You really think they’ll show?”

Avia shrugged; “I don’t know babe but hopefully it won’t have to come to that. I’m pretty sure we’d fail if a bunch of assassins came and did our job for us.”

Kelly lifted his head back and laughed loudly. He pulled Avia closer and kissed her; long and hard.

They stayed in their respective hiding spots for a few more hours.

Halfway through the stakeout Isabelle noticed a mysterious looking virus walking towards them. But the closer they got it became clear that it wasn’t a lone virus. It was a small group. The group had turned to be some semi-drunk college kids. The detective told them all to stay vigilant and reminded them that their perp had nowhere else to go. But the longer the night went on the more tired the group became and the more boredom began to take over them. Emery and Kelly had started to play some game that required a lot of shouting and swearing. Scribe and Isabelle had started to doze off; leaning against one another. Root tried to stay optimistic but it seemed that Nonagon had a different locale where he was spending the night. Once again Legacy Root drove them back to their dorm.

They all went inside and Isabelle ordered a couple pizzas for the group. Emery rejoiced at the offer of free food and gave Isabelle an unexpected bear hug. Walker denied the free food and went straight to their room. Shutting the door, and locking it, behind them. Kelly and Avia sat on the couch and cuddled up to one another. Jett went straight to his room and grabbed a pen and a notebook.

He opened the notebook to a fresh page and began drawing the shape over and over.

He sketched other shapes on top of the one the dots had made trying to find some sort of connection. Something was familiar about the shape and the placement of the bodies. He chewed on the pen as he thought.

Suddenly something crashed through his window and sent glass shattering.

Jett froze. The others ran into his room to see what the commotion was. Jett didn’t see them; his eyes glazed over in fear. Emery told the others to give Jett some space. Isabelle didn’t listen and pushed her way through and carefully walked around the shards of glass. Holland rushed to the kitchen to make Jett some tea. Scribe went to inspect the remains of the window while Emery looked at what caused the crash.

A small light gray brick sat on the floor in the middle of the glass shards.

A piece of black paper was taped to the brick.

Emery picked it up and pulled the paper off. He carefully tried not to rip the paper just in case something important was on it. Or something threatening. It had to be something because people didn’t just throw bricks through people’s windows. Academy students didn’t really pull these kinds of pranks on one another either.

The paper was thicker than a normal piece of paper but seemed to be solid black. Blank. Emery turned it over hoping that the other side was blank as well. But his hopes were crushed when he saw what was on the opposite side. He dropped the brick and it landed lightly on the floor.

“What is it?” Isabelle asked as she rubbed Jett’s back.

Emery turned the paper over so that the others could see. A bright red phoenix was embossed on the black surface.

#larka's virus community #lvc #jett leach #emery becker #avia carstairs #kelly ronan o'connor #isabelle lombardi #scribe jenkins #holland #walker #my writing #ageekswrites

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thistlepath · 7 years

Text

Scouts lore

There are three main races in the Scouts universe, Humans, Alveans, and Carlec. I’ll be talking about all of them, but for now I’m going to focus on the Carlec.

Carlec are humanoid, reptilian predators that, in the distant past, lived in wandering packs that practically ruled their island home. They’re typically between 6-7 feet tall, not counting the horns, and very thin with long, thin tails and ears. Their bodies are covered in dark brown-gray scales and have sharp spines running down their arms and backs as well as bladed plates at the tips of their tails. They have either red/brown or gold/brown eyes, depending on region, and black or dark gray hair.

The differences between male and female Carlec are much, much less obvious than in the other two races, since they’re reptilian rather than mammalian and have always lived in an environment where both those hunting and those raising offspring have to be really good at fighting. They’re all of about the same size, color, shape, and temperament. The best way to tell the difference is their horns and tails, with males nearly always having short, straight horns and simple tail-blades while females have longer, more curved horns and more blades. This comes from their days as wandering hunters, the females looking bigger and more threatening to better scare predators from their young, while the males were better able to hide and ambush their prey.

While the Carlec used to inhabit the entirety of the island, they now mainly live in one corner of it. Their population is split between the marshes, where their royalty and dye-makers live, and the mountains where miners and jewelers live. The marshes are actually a collection of swamps, rivers, and actual marshes. They’re filled with dangerous creatures and plants, forcing the Carlec who live there to adapt and become just as dangerous as their environment. The Carlec who live there are more serious and deadly than their mountain-dwelling counterparts. The mountains are, well, mountains. They’re inhabited by much less violent creatures, though the terrain itself is still pretty unsafe. It’s mostly barren, rocky slopes and tunnels, though wooden platforms and bridges have been built, along with gardens, to make it more habitable. The Carlec native to the mountains are smaller and less pointy than their counterparts, but are also more agile and built for climbing and chasing prey long-distance.

Carlec religion is based around the idea that, at one point, everything was made in the image of their lonely deity. The reason everything is so diverse is that the more people move away from her teachings, the more they change to reflect their choices. So basically, doing bad things can literally turn you into a monster. Animals, plants, rocks, and even the other races are all direct results of this rule. This also works in reverse, which they “prove” by pointing out that the humans have gotten darker skin and hair since they came to the island and started learning from the Carlec. (really, it’s just the sunny, dry area they’ve been living in since then. Or is it? Yeah, it is.)

They communicate with their deity, and with the dead, through song. They believe that that’s the best way to get other-worldly people to listen to you. They’re taught to be kind, helpful, accepting, and peaceful people. If anyone strays away from those rules, well they aren’t really Carlec anymore. That, or they’ve been possessed. Either way, that means that all Carlec are kind, helpful, accepting, and peaceful. There are no exceptions.

The Carlec believe that the body is a container for the soul, and that death is, rather than the soul leaving it’s “container,” just the body ceasing to function. It’s like sleep paralysis, but permanent.

The Carlec are also the only race to believe in “ghosts” (which they call Xinitenav) and take preventing them incredibly seriously. Xinitenav can be created in several ways: 1: a body is left to rot (or burn, be eaten, etc), with no one to sing for them. Once the body is gone, the Xiniten is free to roam, but forever in horrible pain. People accused of being possessed by these spirits include those with depression, anxiety, and PTSD. This type of Xiniten is called a Xiniten-vani. 2: someone is significantly wronged by another person, and they aren’t given an apology or revenge before they’re buried. The Xiniten will refuse to move on, despite the horrible pain this causes them, until they get one or the other. Those accused of being possessed by these spirits include literally anyone who harms another person. This type of Xiniten is called a Xiniten-xovl. 3: someone dies, but has someone or something they feel they must protect. They refuse to move on, once again causing them immense pain, until they’re certain that whoever it is is safe. These spirits don’t possess people. This type of Xiniten is called a Xiniten-lovx. Carlec, for obvious reasons, do their absolute best to keep any of those situations from happening. Funerals are massive gatherings where the deceased is reassured of their family/friends safety, anyone who may have harmed them apologises, and everybody gathers and sings to guide “angels” to retrieve the spirit.

The Carlec are currently lead by a queen, but they have had both kings and queens in the past. Gender matters much less to them than skill, whoever’s better at a certain thing gets to do that thing (hunting, making, selling, leading, etc.) in fact, probably due to their tolerant nature and lack of obvious differences, gender usually doesn’t matter to them at all. They don’t have words for ‘he’ or ‘she,’ just ‘that one.’ The only gendered words they have are words for family members(meant for clarification) and words they’ve borrowed from humans (like king and queen.)

What matters to them instead is, once again, what you do. They have two basic jobs, hunters and makers/sellers. Hunters, obviously, gather food and guard the village/home from dangerous creatures. Makers, just like it sounds, make and sell things like dye, jewelry, fabric, houses, etc. they often take turns watching over their children, but not always. A typical family has one hunter and one maker, giving them food and a source of income. No one in Carlec society would care, or even notice, if two males or two females become mates, but if two hunters or two makers do the same they’re going to get some odd looks.

Carlec children are taught by their parents, learning everything required for their chosen career. If they want to hunt they learn from their hunter parent, if they want to make/sell then they learn from the other. That’s the way it’s “supposed” to be. When a couple is made up of two parents with one career, there’s no way to teach them the other. Because of this, rather than just leave it be and have a neighbor or something teach your kid if they don’t want your career, they practice a kind of polyamory. two hunters can become mates with two makers, or a widowed maker could become mates with a pair of hunters, for example. They aren’t necessarily, or often, actually romantically or sexually involved with/interested in the other(s), but the hunter(s) take on the name of the maker(s) and they are all seen as the parents of any children they might have. There are different words for mother and father to use for each pair, depending on who your biological parents are.

The way Carlec buy and sell to/from each other isn’t with money, though they would accept it, it’s in favors. For instance, If you’re family's hunter is sick or just unlucky and you can’t get food, you can just go to the family you gave a rug last week and ask them for some of theirs or vice versa (offering food in exchange for items.) once someone can no longer hunt or create for whatever reason, they are considered an Elder. Elders are the leaders of their towns and cities, even the king and queen must take orders from the elders living in their city in most circumstances. Elders are taught to be healers, religious leaders and scholars, they’re also the only ones who get to learn and sing the songs required to directly contact their deity, rather than working through the “angels” to send messages.

The Carlec language is very simple, at least it is if you completely ignore the non-verbal parts of it. They don’t like the idea of having multiple words for one concept, for instance “to be.” english has “is, am, are, etc.” the Carlec just have “Luk.” to show tense, subject, etc, they flick their tails and/or ears in different directions.

Older/past tense: “Cz” (chi) at beginning of word. Younger/future tense: “Iv” (eev) at end of word.

Plural: ad “Av” or “Al” to the end of the word.

Negative: add “Init” to beginning of the word.

Goodbye: Ricenit bye: Ice hello: Lvottl hi: Ott

Brother (related): Niivet older: Czniivet younger: Niivetiv

Brother (unrelated): Nii older: Cznii younger: Niiv

Sister (related): Xilivt older: Czxilivt younger: Xilivtiv

Sister (unrelated): Xil older: Czxil younger: Xiliv

Mother: Xitilvt Mommy: Iti Father: Naviliit Daddy: Ili Non-bio parent: Xinil informal: ini

mate: Lovani

Grandmother (related): Czivt Grandmother (unrelated): Czit

Grandfather (related): Czivet Grandfather (unrelated): Czet

Cousin: Xinii

Human: Khavilarn Alvean: Ssvavll

Food: Khavili Fish: Svivali Drink: Vilviv water: svifet

Ghost: Xiniten wandering: Xiniten-vani vengeful: Xiniten-xovl guiding: Xiniten-lovx

Lost: Teneit Wander: Vani

Hurt: Xovl Help: Lovx

me/i/my: Kh You: Xn That one(singular pronoun): Na It: Ts we: Khav they: Xnav is/am/be/are: Luk

Yes: Xci no: Init

Welcome: Xcivani good morning: Xcitelev good evening: Xciniitih

excuse me: Khvani

Safe: cii Little: alit Child: aliott

Name: Isict

When Carlec speak they often seem fidgety because their language heavily relies on body language like flicking their ears, waving, twitching or lashing their tails, looking in different directions, etc.

They also have quite a few sounds that don’t quite translate into words, but have meanings, kind of like screaming or laughing but much more. For instance, a sound sort of like a loud purr is used to express a feeling of protectiveness and responsibility. It’s often used to comfort scared children and as a subtle threat to whatever’s scaring them. Sounds like this can be layered over actual words, adding to their meaning. For instance, saying “everything’s going to be okay.” While “purring” is more… active? It makes it sound like you are going to make it okay. Saying the same thing while making a different sound, similar to a hyena's laugh, makes it sound sarcastic.

Here are some examples of Carlec grammar, since I have no clue how to properly describe it.

“Give it, book, you to me.” “Is mine name, ———.” “Caught it, black cat to brown mouse.”

These are the letters and their sounds (the capitalized letters in the example words)

Hard letters are used to describe things that are rough, sharp, courageous, strong, etc. soft letters are used to describe things that are smooth, kind, weak, cowardly, etc. neither are inherently good or bad, meanings are assigned to them by the words and names they form.

#writing #scouts #worldbuilding

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sinkingorswimming · 7 years

Note

"Sunrise" of the In the Heights OST

*these are just all gonna be the x-men au now, i got eaten by it, i have no control anymore sorry*

“I have no idea what to do with this,” Celestino admits an hour after the commotion at Webster Hall with a vague wave of his left hand.

This being Longshot, who smiles at him, his mouth shaping into a pink heart.

“It’s why we brought him to you,” Phichit says. “You’re the one who knows weird.”

Celestino gives Phichit a sigh and an exasperated look. “Television,” he says as he absently ties up his hair. “A dimension ruled by television.”

Longshot shrugs with a softer smile.

“Well,” Celestino says. “We’ll find a way to get you home, Longshot, since your revolution sounds like it can use all the help it can get.”

Longshot nods with a combination of gratitude and resignation. He folds his hands over his mouth, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

It’s Sunday in the West Village loft Phichit and Yuuri call theirs. They share bunk beds so Yuuri can have a workspace for his studies and his writing and so Phichit has space for his rigs. Phichit’s an NYU student too, he’s in Tisch, and he single-handedly keeps the corner bodega in business because of an addiction to their egg sandwiches.

Celestino gets up, and he makes a face like he just recalled something. “Right,” he says. He picks up a large shopping bag that says Intoxicated by Giacometti on the side. “Chris had prototypes for Fall ‘18 lying around. Longshot looks like he’s a sample size—he said he figured he shouldn’t draw as much attention in these.”

Longshot takes the black bag with metallic blue and purple writing. He holds up a grey and black sweater, pawing at its fabric like he’s a stranger to the concept of wool.

He may be, Yuuri realizes. “We’ll get you showered and prettied up,” Phichit says to Longshot with a wink.

“I’m already pretty, it’s part of my design,” Logshot says with a raised eyebrow.

“You have a mullet,” Phichit counters. “No one in New York City has a mullet. It’s gotta go.”

Longshot gives Phichit a confused stare, and Yuuri clears his throat. “He means you need a haircut. Between the color and the style, you’ll stand out too much. It’s either we dye it or we cut it.”

Longshot touches his hair, the strands sliding through his (four still how the fuck) fingers. “Cut it,” he says after a few minutes contemplation.

Phichit smiles and Yuuri nods. He leads Longshot to the bathroom—it’s surprisingly decent for its size, no bathtub though. Just a decent shower and pair sinks. Yuuri gets a spare towel and wash cloth of him. “Okay my soap is the white and green bar, Phichit’s the blue one—mine smells like cedar, is flowers and—”

Yuuri stops and swallows like a huge rock is in his throat. Longshot’s already mostly naked, and yes he’s beautiful, like a Greek statue, but his spine—

Instead of a subtle ident curving down his back, his vertebrae protrude like if an invertebrate made him. Yuuri stares, partially because it’s a new sight, but also because it’s…appealing “Do they hurt?” he asks before he can stop himself.

Longshot looks over his shoulder at him. “Not really,” he replies. “You can touch them, if you like.”

Yuuri comes close, reaches to the one at the base of his neck, and runs his hands over it, the holographic teal glitter nail lacquer bright against Longshot’s pale skin. It feels like a really large knuckle, but on his back. His skin is warm, smooth, and soft.

Longshot smiles over his shoulder. “That feels good.”

Yuuri clears his throat and takes two steps back. He clears his throat. “Well, um—” He turns to the sink, grabbing the MAC wipes and his glasses. He deals with his make up at his desk since the light’s better. “Hot water runs out after fifteen minutes. Try to be quick.”

He hightails it out of the bathroom with his face like a tomato, falling gracelessly into his make up chair and wiping his face down. Once there’s only a touch of blue in his eyelashes, he throws the used towelettes out and groans.

Phichit hangs upside down from the top bunk by his tail. “Your merch sales are improving,” he says. “We’re out of a few t-shirts and some posters—should I restock or should we make new designs? We have that one photoshoot we did with the blue and gold jacket—”

“The alternate take of the indigo outfit with the crystals,” Yuuri answers as he removes the purple lenses and puts on his blue half-rimmed eyeglasses. He shakes his hair loose out of his stage style and puts on a plain lip balm flavored like melons.

“Oooh yes!” Phichit accesses the file on the cloud and sends it to their printshop. “Perfect.”

Yuuri puts on a pair of skinny denim jeans and a slightly-oversized oatmeal and navy striped sweater. His socks are navy with cream colored dogs on them. The water cuts off and he grabs his clippers and a pair of scissors. Phichit flips upright into his bed. “I’m gonna nap.”

“Kay,” Yuuri answers. He knocks before entering to a Longshot in a burgundy t-shirt with a silver abstract print and dark gray denim. Chris provided him a pair of Chuck Taylors the same color as the shirt, and there’s a soft looking leather jacket on the back of the toilet. “Sit please, back to me.”

Longshot does. Yuuri combs out his wet hair, then gets to work shearing off the length first and then clipping down the sides and back, leaving it long in the front and on top. It’s a respectable yet fashionable hairstyle. Yuuri uses the blow-dryer phichit uses for his body and when he’s finished, he puts a bit of product in it.

His hair is soft and smells like Yuuri’s shampoo, and Yuuri has to step back a second time.

Longshot stands and looks in the mirror. He nods with approval. “You do good work, beautiful,” he says.

Yuuri gives him a strange look.

“You look good with the make up,” Longshot elaborates. “But this is better.” He rakes his eyes up and down Yuuri.

Yuuri stammers with his eyes wide. “Pancakes.”

“What?” Longshot asks.

“Breakfast food,” Yuuri manages. “Uh—eating? We…eat. Yeah.”

He turns away and scoots out of the bathroom, Longshot following. Yuuri texts Phichit that they went out so he’ll see it when he wakes up. He locks the door and they walk down the six flights of stairs to the street. Empire Diner’s not a long walk, and Longshot keeps looking up and around as they head to the restaurant.

“What’s that?” he asks. It’s a building with a red awning, bins of bright flowers in the front, and smells wafting from it.

“A bodega,” Yuuri replies.

Longshot gives him a curious look.

Yuuri blinks. “Right um—it’s a Spanish word for corner store, basically. They sell flowers, groceries, sandwiches, beer—it’s easier than a big grocery sometimes.”

“Gro-cer-ies,” Longshot sounds out. “I don’t know—”

“Food,” Yuuri answers, kind of taken aback. “We have to buy food to cook and live off of. A grocer provides it.”

“Major Gosha fed us,” Longshot says. “When we’d be taken out of stasis to perform for Yakov’s shows. He’d wake us, give us the food, wardrobe, hair, and make up, and then showtime!”

“Well, we make three meals a day or buy them from a restaurant,” Yuuri elaborates. “Restuarants are expensive, but I got paid for the show last night even though—well you were there. Anyways, I’m buying you brunch. My treat as a Welcome to Earth, Longshot! gift.”

“Victor,” he says. “I want you to call me Victor. The others can call me Longshot—but please, beauitful, call me Victor.”

Yuuri feels the heat flood his face. He bites back an awkward reply, opening the Diner’s door instead. They’re shown to a window-side booth, and Victor looks up and around with wonder like a child.

The waitress comes over. “Hi guys, what’ll it be to drink?”

“Coffee please,” Yuuri answers. “Two of them.”

Long…Victor gives her a bright smile. “Yes this…coffee!”

She flushes and giggles before leaving, and Yuuri’s less flustered the next time his dining compainion smiles at him. He does it to everyone, Yuuri realizes.

Okay.

“What is…a waffle?” he asks, saying “whuffle” instead of the correct pronunciation.

“Waffles are like a bread thing that’s sweet,” Yuuri explains.

“Avocado?” he’s asked.

“It’s a vegetable that’s soft and green on the inside,” Yuuri says, feeling like Human Google.

His companion keeps looking. “We just eat this Nutrient drink; it’s peach and flavorless. This is all very complex.”

“Wait you’ve…never had food?” The disappointment vanishes because what the fuck?

“The Spineless Ones get to have the food,” Victor says. “Entertainers get nutrients.The Spineless Ruling Class eats real food.”

Of course Yuuri’s heard of socities like this—pre-Revolution France, third world nations—but it’s different knowing someone from one, seeing them in real life and hearing them discuss it.

Especially since he sounds so calm and matter-of-fact.

“Order whatever you like,” Yuuri says. “However much of it you want.”

Victor looks at him, but he doesn’t seem to understand the bit about the financials. His eyes are confused but grateful, like he understands Yuuri’s gift but doesn’t at the same time. The server brings their coffee and asks for their orders—Yuuri gets the salmon pastrami avo toast, and Victor orders both the pancakes and the waffle.

The way he lights up when he gets his first bites, the happiness and excitement in his expression and voice—risks to himself be damned.

Yuuri’s gonna help him.

#Anonymous #asked and answered #dazz and longshot au #dommi's fic #victuuri fic #yoi fic #dazzler!yuuri #longshot!victor #lost in your light #sexy haircut is sexy #sexy pre-shower is sexy #yuuri misunderstanding again

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vexvamp · 7 years

Photo

Wings of Fire: Revenant

The Final Chapter

Part 1 of 3 Part Two - Part Three

Night had fallen by the time they reached the Claws of the Clouds Mountains, and the storm was beginning to reach full strength. Thin veins of lightning appeared in flashes of blinding light, as if invisible talons had reached down to slash open the sky. Great blue-gray clouds rolled in, thunder growling restlessly in their bellies. The mountain range stood in sharp relief against the horizon, each flash illuminating the peaks like rows upon rows of jagged teeth.

Peacemaker felt the chain looped around his wrist give a powerful jerk as Kinkajou desperately attempted to free herself from the links of metal wrapped tight around her mouth, neck, wrists, and wings.

“Stop that!” Peacemaker snapped, giving his end of the chain a tug so violent it nearly caused her to topple to the ground. She shot him a poisonous glare, clouds of scarlet and black rage dancing among the myriad of other colors parading across her scales.

“Now be still…and don’t worry,” Peacemaker hissed, the edges of his lips drawing up into a sickly smile, “your prince charming will be here soon enough.” With that the young dragon threw back his head and breathed a tower of fire up, up, up into the sky. He turned back to look at her, his blue eyes as cold as the wind which blew in from the Ice Kingdom in the dead of winter. “I think that ought to get his attention, don’t you?”

A growl rumbled in Kinkajou’s throat, but the chain around her mouth prevented her from speaking. Among the other colors dancing across her scales were whorls of pale green fear, purple confusion, pale blue worry, and, most surprisingly, generous blots of dark gray, the color of sadness. Even now, as she glared venomously back at him, he could see an underlying sorrow in her dark green eyes. A sadness which showed even beneath her anger, and a question spoken without works: “Why are you doing this?”

A painful twist seized Peacemaker’s heart, his head clouding with unwanted memories. Kinkajou encouraging his clumsy first attempts at flight. Kinkajou bringing him his favorite fruits when he was sick in bed. Kinkajou eating his sad little burnt pies and relishing every bite. Kinkajou sitting and listening to him talk about the things he knew he could never tell Hope or Moon, because they’d worry too much. He remembered once when he was very young he had suddenly decided he wanted to have color-changing scales like a Rainwing, and so Kinkajou had made up some dye from rainforest berries and let him be whatever color he wanted. When the other Nightwing dragonets made fun of the rainbow scales beneath his wings, Kinkajou had mimicked his colors for at least a month, stating that if anyone made fun of him, they’d have to make fun of her too. His heart ached with the memory of her walking side by side with him, glancing challengingly around at the other dragonets, as if daring them to make a snide comment.

Peacemaker grimaced. What was he doing? This dragon was his friend!

He shook his head fiercely, a whole new set of memories suddenly crashing down on him like ocean waves. No! This was her fault! She had masterminded his enchantment, tricked him, stripped him of his powers, his memories, and even his very identity. She had deceived him, pretending she cared about him, pretending she was his friend, and all in the name of making sure he never learned the truth. Well, he knew the truth now, and he would not be swayed by foolish sentimentality.

Just then a flash of luminescent scales appeared on the horizon, getting closer and closer until an emerald green form materialized from the darkness of the mountains and the storm.

Kinkajou’s scales turned suddenly pale green and white, an amalgamate of terror and distress.

Turtle was close enough now that they could hear his heavy, clumsy wingbeats and see the desperate confusion written all over his face. “Peacemaker, what are you doing?!” he demanded, his eyes fixed to the chains looped around Kinkajou’s body.

“Stay back!” Peacemaker snarled, flaring his wings so that the rainbow scales flashed threateningly. “Don’t come any closer!”

Cautiously, Turtle lighted down on the cliff opposite them. It was uncanny how much the young Seawing looked like his ancient ancestor, Fathom. Fathom, the dragon who had stolen everything from Peacemaker…from Darkstalker. Fathom, the dragon who had been rewarded with the happy ending he had denied his so-called friend.

“Peacemaker, what’s going on? What are you doing with Kinkajou?” He looked as if he wanted to believe this was all some kind of elaborate joke, but the fear in Kinkajou’s eyes told him it wasn’t. The Rainwing was now balancing on her back feet, craning to get a good look at Turtle, as if her stare alone might be able to communicate to him that he should run away and never look back. Turtle looked past Peacemaker at her, his eyes so desperately confused and fearful it was almost pathetic.

His gaze fell back to Peacemaker, back to his altered gaze and poisonous expression, and the realization suddenly came crashing down on the Seawing like an avalanche of ice and stone. “Three moons…you know,” the Seawing breathed.

“Know what?” Peacemaker snapped. “That all of you who called yourself my friends betrayed me? Stole my powers? Stole my memories? Stole my life?! That you pretended to care for me when all along you told me nothing but lies?!”

“But I wasn’t…I didn’t…”

“No, you didn’t. You’re not clever enough for that. But she did,” Peacemaker said, gesturing to Kinkajou with a wave of his tail.

Turtle’s chest heaved with increasing desperation. “But…that…that wasn’t her fault. She had no choice. Darkstalker he….you…you were killing dragons, brainwashing them to follow you…you were going to take over all of Pyrrhia.”

“Oh, so brainwashing is only acceptable when you’re taking down an ultra powerful supervillain, is that it? Are there any other special rules you ‘heroes’ are entitled to?”

“That’s…that’s not…”

“That’s exactly what it is!”

“But…but what else were we supposed to do? You…you didn’t leave us any choice” the Seawing’s voice was shaking so hard he could barely speak.

“You should have done nothing. I had great plans for Pyrrhia. A united kingdom, my tribe restored to full strength, and me as their king, leading them towards all their best possible futures. That’s the future I saw. That’s the future I still see.”

He gave the chain a sharp jerk, and Kinkajou was forced back down onto all fours. “I am fully prepared to make this dragon pay for everything she stole from me…” he paused, a distant roar of thunder breaking the silence, “unless you and I can come to some sort of…understanding.”

Turtle was silent for a long moment “What kind of understanding?”

“You recognize this chain? It’s the one your sister enchanted to send to Queen Thorn’s prisons in the Kingdom of Sand. As long as Kinkajou is bound with it, none of your magic will work on her, and only I know the location of the key. If you try to use your magic to kill me or remove me in any way, then we both fall.” He raised his arm so Turtle could clearly see the chain double wound around his wrist. “And she can’t fly. Only I can free her, so don’t get any bright ideas about trying to outsmart me. We both know you’re not capable of that.”

Turtle looked from Peacemaker to Kinkajou about twenty times in the span of about half a second. “What is it you want?”

“It’s simple. You change me back to the way I was, with all my powers intact, and I won’t kill her.”

Turtle’s gold-flecked eyes widened with horror. “I…I won’t! I can’t!”

“You can. For all your limited imagination and even more limited brain power, you are still an animus. Any spell that has been done can be undone, as you more than proved when you got your powers back.”

“No! I won’t do it!”

“Then you’ll watch the dragon you love die,” Peacemaker hissed, holding a single claw a hair length from Kinkajou’s neck.

“Peacemaker, please! You can’t do this! Kinkajou is your friend!”

“There is no Peacemaker! It’s an enchantment. A prison of flesh and blood. I am Darkstalker and none of you are my friends!”

A bolt of lightning ripped across the sky with a roar that shook the stone beneath their feet. For a brief moment a flash of white light reflected in the tears rolling down the Seawing’s face.

“Make your choice, Turtle. Does she live, or does she die?”

----

I knew I wouldn’t maintain the motivation to write the whole fan fiction (since it would likely be novel length and take an agonizingly long time) so I wanted to jump straight to the scene I knew I needed to get to paper. But basically the whole story is that Peacemaker, now a six year old adolescent, (the dragon equivalent of about sixteen) is living in the rain forest as an apprentice gardener training under Orchid, when he is called to help with the school gardens at Jade Mountain Academy, which are suffering greatly under the care of the hapless teachers. Orchid believes the extra experience and interaction with dragons outside the rain forest would be good for him, so, despite his mother’s initial misgivings, it’s decided that, while Peacemaker is caring for the gardens, he should also attend the academy. There he meets his clawmate, Prince Cliff, and Cliff’s friends, Princess Auklet and Truthseeker, an apprentice blacksmith Nightwing from the small population of dragons now living at the Night Kingdom. Peacemaker feels a strange connection with this Nightwing, and it is soon revealed to the audience that she is in fact the reincarnation of his lost love, Clearsight (though of course Peacemaker and Truthseeker are unaware of this). The story takes many twists and turns through the life of Peacemaker at Jade Mountain, which include Cliff and Auklet’s budding romance, the sudden death of Truthseeker’s father, and Peacemaker’s struggle with his secret desires to possess animus magic and the ancient Nightwing skills of mindreading and foresight. This all culminates when Peacemaker introduces Truthseeker to his mother, and Hope, fearing that being around Truthseeker will trigger Peacemaker’s memories of his past to resurface, promptly forbids him to be with her. Peacemaker angrily refuses to listen and storms off, venting his frustrations to his childhood friend, Moon (who now works as a teacher at Jade Mountain). Moon goes to talk to Hope, and the two get into a falling out over Peacemaker’s past and future, unaware of the fact that Peacemaker is eavesdropping. Hearing the truth about who he is makes all his memories rush back to him, and in a fit of rage he plans to regain his powers and enact revenge on everyone who claimed to be his friend after stealing away his powers and even his very identity. This is where the final chapter comes in.

----- No critique desired. Please respect that.

Wings of Fire belongs to Tui T. Sutherland

The art belongs to me, and you are not permitted to steal, trace, copy, reference, or otherwise redistribute it in any way. I also do not want to see this posted on RP sites, Facebook, YouTube, etc. without my permission. That's still art theft.

#My Art #VexVamp #Wings of Fire #Peacemaker #Darkstalker #Kinkajou #Turtle #Nightwing #Rainwing #Seawing #Hybrid #Fan Fiction #Darkness of Dragons Spoilers

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bijuewled · 7 years

Text

For You, Anything

A/N: I just couldn’t get this idea out of my head after what’s been going on lately in the manga, so this is a major spoiler warning if you’ve haven’t caught up with the manga! I hope you all enjoy!

Pairing: Nalu

Word Count: 2,855

Summary: He was not a being meant to be saved. Just as she was not a girl meant to save him.

o-o-o

Since when had the heat ever bothered him?

His eyes were heavy and dry as he trudged forward on the dirt path, releasing shallow breaths past his chapped lips every time his feet took another step forward. Dust kicked upwards and caked onto his exposed ankles, dyeing his white pants a dull brown. His scarf hung loose around his bleeding neck, the fabric undoubtedly caked in the red liquid, but he paid no mind to it.

He bit down on his lips as he felt his skin burn, as if live fire were dancing on his arms and legs and licking him with their devilish tongues of heat, pushing his limbs further into a blazed abyss of inferno. This fire was no ally or friend to him, this fire scorched and burned in the worst way possible. But why?

His right arm hung by his side uselessly, his skin practically burned down to the bone, a sight that he’d never thought he would ever have to lay his eyes upon. His eyes glossed over the path before him, a path that had once been filled with laughing children and flowers with bright colored-petals that emitted a light floral perfume. The small river canal beside the path would be filled with koi fish and canoes of smiling families and lovers.

Now, everything was dead.

The path was littered with garbage and stray bricks from destroyed monuments and buildings, the streets void of any life what-so-ever. Debris and broken flower petals danced along the flowing murky water, silencing the life of the once vibrant koi fish that floated silently above the water.

And then there was the smell.

His nose burned as the scents of everything hit him at once; the blood drenched on his clothes, the gasoline of broken pipes, the smoke of burning wood…

It’s over he thought to himself as he rounded a corner slowly, raising his stiff neck slightly to catch a better glimpse of his broken path, a flash of red eyes and black hair drowning his vision.

His enemy, the world’s enemy, his brother…would not be able to destroy the world that he called his home, the world that his nakama had called their home, the world that brought him to Fairy Tail was safe once more.

He halted his shaking footsteps as another flash of pain shot through his body, causing him to grunt out loudly and grind his teeth together, his cry of pain echoing out through the deafening silence of the town. He squeezed his eyes shut as he felt the burn of fire scorch his entire body, the unfamiliar fire that was not welcomed with opened arms. He inhaled sharply and grabbed his scarf in his fist as he tried to drown out the pain with the three words that he’d been repeating to himself ever since he left the guild.

It’s all over.

“Hey! Wake-up!”

The voice made Natsu freeze in his efforts to drown out the pain as his shaking fist loosened its death grip. The voice was a distant echo at first, slowly growing into a crescendo of panic as he struggled to open his eyes and focus on what appeared to be three figures before him up ahead. The blurred shapes soon formed into recognizable colors and faces as his heart suddenly dropped to the deep depths of his stomach as he laid eyes upon two long blonde pigtails sprawled out on the ground, tangled in leaves.

“Please, Lucy! This isn’t funny!”

Her name seemed to fuel the fire burning his body, sending another shock of pain that vibrated against his bones and filled his head with blistering smoke. He hissed through his teeth and struggled to stay upright as his body began to sag against the force of impending gravity.

“Natsu?”

At hearing his name his eyes focused on the face of the speaker, a broken and scratched up Gray who stared up at him with shocked eyes.

Since when had he reached them so quickly? Had the pain drowned out his sense of movement and time?

“Natsu.” Gray said again incredulously, Natsu looking at the scratches that adorned his muscled arms and chest, a deep gash stamped onto his stomach as his chest moved up and down urgently to keep him alive. “What are you…”

Natsu couldn’t remember the last time he’d properly inhaled the oxygen he needed to live, and it certainly wouldn’t come any time soon after his eyes travelled down to the unconscious figure with the striking blonde hair that had brought his vision back for just a moment.

Gray had placed Lucy’s head atop his lap, his hands lightly poking her cheeks and shaking her shoulders as he continued to call out her name, trying to get her to open her eyes.

Her usual peachy toned skin was pale as snow, all colors of life drained from the face that had a smile that could brighten up his day in an instant. Her exposed stomach was scratched and bruised, purple and blue spots traveling down to her thighs. Her once pink lips were cracked and dry, lips that held so many snarky comments and beautiful laughter.

He dropped to his knees, ignoring the pain that jutted out from his knee caps as he felt a familiar set of paws lightly press against his leg.

“Natsu…” Happy’s sad voice chimed, though his partner’s voice was lost in his hearing as he locked eyes on the part of her hair that had covered the right side of her face. He reached out to brush her hair away from her face, pausing for just a moment as he felt something sinister sink into the depths of his stomach before finally brushing the hair away.

What little breathing his body allowed him to stopped altogether as his eyes widened in absolute horror.

Red, angry veins were tattooed across her right cheek, dancing tauntingly around her jawline and eyebrow, where they finally plunged into her eye, a whole network of dark and sinister power. Her eyelids were shut, dried tears caked around her eyelashes as Natsu traced the veins with his shaking hand, following the foreign lines down to her neck and right shoulder, invading her bloodstream all the way down to her fingertips.

The heat omitting from her veins almost singed his shaking fingertips, making Natsu swallow a shaking breath.

She couldn’t handle this much heat in her body, no normal human could possibly allow their blood to become that boiled and poisoned with fire and expect to…

Just how much pain was she in? he thought angrily as his eyes began to burn with tears, his body beginning to shake with the uncontrollable pain that had been plaguing him all this time, turning to lock eyes with a stone-faced Gray.

“What happened-“ he began to ask, until he realized that he didn’t have to ask what had happened to her.

Back at the guild, he knew from the moment that he felt his own fire begin to spark back into his body that his friends had paid a price that he hadn’t agreed on paying. Back when darkness was all he could see and feel, he followed a small spark of light that was calling to him, calling him out of the darkness and back into the light of the living.

He saw her face in his mind before his vision was fully restored, and he knew it was her.

And his hunch was confirmed when his eyes caught the silhouette of an opened book with a beaten up leather spine, the pages inside scribbled with angry black and what now appeared to be shimmering gold text that stood proudly written in between the black as if to assert its dominance, Lucy asserting her dominance over the text, just like she did with every book.

And right next to the book was a simple pen, broken in half and dripping gold ink onto the green grass.

The harsh gold of the ink blinded Natsu’s vision as the heat suddenly became too much for him to handle, and he felt himself falling, his head landing on Lucy’s still chest with a small thump.

“Natsu!” He faintly heard Gray and Happy exclaim in shock as he turned his head to stare at Lucy’s eyelashes, his hot cheek rubbing softly against her skin. It was in that moment that he finally understood why this heat was sending him into the depths of intolerable pain.

With a final glimpse down to Lucy’s red fingertips, he allowed himself to confirm his final thoughts as the shimmering gold overtook his vision.

“NATSU!”

He was not a being meant to be saved. Just as she was not a girl meant to save him.

And as the gold script in the Book of END began to eat away at the pages and leather bindings, he allowed himself to be taken along with it.

And he fell back into blinding darkness.

o-o-o

A soft breeze, warm and gentle, was enough to prompt Natsu to open his eyes slowly, the black that had once suffocated him was slowly fading into a fluorescent gold, the same gold that had taken him away once before.

He was greeted with a bright blue sky with puffy clouds, clean air filling his lungs as he inhaled deeply, letting his senses adjust to his surroundings as he allowed himself to sit up slowly, blinking as he took in the soft golden grass beneath his palms.

“What?” he asked himself as his eyes took in the shimmering gold around him, small specks of feathers and sparkling matter dancing around in the air. He stood up fully, shocked at his steadiness as one of the feathers landed on his arm, and as Natsu plucked it off of his skin and brought it closer to his face to examine it, he realized that the fire that plagued his body was gone.

Releasing the feather, his eyes swept over his right arm, now completely healed and covered with his smooth tan skin. His fingertips brushed his skin, and he began to frown. Wasn’t it just a moment ago that he could barely see the skin on his arm? Wasn’t it just a moment ago that he could barely open his eyes or stand up straight?

He glanced up at the sky once more, as if to search for an answer.

“You’ve finally made it.”

Natsu’s heart picked up a strange rhythm as he felt his eyes widen at hearing the oh-so familiar voice chime so clearly, a sweet melody of calm.

Slowly, he turned around to meet the pair of eyes that he wasn’t able to look at before, and he found himself staring immensely at her.

She stood before him calmly and steadily, a smile playing up on her glossed pink lips as her long pigtails blew gently behind her back. She was wearing the same outfit as before, only her shirt wasn’t torn to pieces and her boots hugged her legs without exposing the skin underneath. Her skin was clear and her peachy pink blush was back on her cheeks, brightening when she closed her eyes and flashed him an even bigger smile then the one she already wore.

Lucy…

She giggled softly. “You sure kept me waiting long enough.”

Natsu didn’t move, or rather he couldn't move, frozen in his spot as he drank her in with wide eyes. His mouth, while parted slightly, was unable to form any words to communicate with her.

All he could see were violent snapshots of her in his mind, lying on the ground, lifeless and pale. He remembered how his heart began to pound quick and fast when he traced those malignant red veins on her cheek, and how much he wanted to scream when he realized that it was all his fault.

He killed her. He killed them both.

Slowly, he began to move towards her, refusing to break eye contact with his partner until he was mere inches away from her. Acting as if his touch were poisonous to her, he slowly reached for her right arm and stopped, his own hand shaking in the process before his left hand joined in and he gently took Lucy’s arm into his hands. He ran his fingers over her smooth and unscathed skin, a sense of overwhelming grief and joy filling his senses simultaneously as he came to realize the red marks were gone, tears budding in his eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

He broke out of his thoughts and focused on her face once more, shocked to find her staring down at his hands with a sad smile on her face.

“I…wasn’t strong enough to withstand it…” she trailed off, her lips curling down into a frown after she seemed to be giving it some thought. She bit down on her lip as she looked away at the golden grass at their feet. “And even with my efforts…you still…we both-”

She immediately halted her speech when Natsu touched her cheek, fingertips lightly tracing her skin as she slowly brought her eyes back up to meet with his once more.

He hated the tears that began to spill down her flushed cheeks, and he hated that she blamed herself for what had happened.

He cupped her cheek more securely, brushing away her tears with his thumb.

“I’m the one who has to apologize.” he told her firmly, tears still budding in his eyes as he refused to break eye contact with her. He gritted his teeth together as the gentle wind around them began to pick up.

“Because of me, you’ll never go back to that cafe that you like. You’ll never wash your hair with that shampoo that smells nice…you’ll never see any of your spirits again…or any of our friends!”

He was almost yelling at this point, and his own tears began to pour down his cheeks. He released his hold on her cheek and placed both of his hands on her shoulders, gritting his teeth once more as he struggled not to completely lose it- He felt her hands cup his cheeks, her mouth set in a frown as she waited for him to calm his shaking. The wind around them slowed into a gentle caressing breeze as she brought his face down to hers so that their foreheads touched lightly.

Natsu stared at her, and it only brought him deeper into frustrated despair.

“Hell…you never even finished that novel of yours.” he said softly, almost to the point of laughing at the pathetic fact he brought up, out of all of the things he could’ve said, he chose to say that.

All he could do was stare down at her incredulously before he finally found the strength to wrap her up in his arms and bury her into his chest, exhaling as she nuzzled herself into his neck. They said nothing for quite some time, until it was broken by a violent flash of the Book of END lying dangerously close to her body.

“If it weren’t for that damned book-”

“If I could give you just one more chance to make things right for the world, I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.” Lucy cut him off suddenly. “If it means that I could save everyone, I’d burn from the inside out all over again, to help you.” she smiled softly against his neck, tears slowly streaming down her cheeks.

“You were able to stop Zeref.”

Natsu frowned at her words. “I never told you that.”

“You didn’t have to.” she told him, backing up so that she could smile up at him. “I never stopped believing in you.”

Her words were simple, and yet, Natsu knew that she meant every word. After all, who better to speak this truth to him other than Lucy?

Natsu poked her cheek. “Well if it weren’t for you…” he trailed off, not wanting to think about what she had gone through up until that moment. “It wasn’t just me.”

Lucy puffed out her cheeks and lightly punched his shoulder. “Well, duh!”

The wind picked up once more, blowing her pigtails behind her back as she stared up at him with her warm eyes, eyes full of light and life, and they both had decided in that moment to leave all their grief behind them, forever looking ahead to a lifetime filled with golden laughter and memories.

“I always knew you’d write about me one day.” he told her softly, laughing suddenly pulling her close to him, his eyes glancing down at her lips. “I just wish it wasn’t like this.”

She smiled back up at him, shifting her weight to her toes so that she could rise up and close the gap between them completely.

And just before their lips met, her words were carried away by the golden wind, along with the two of them, taking them off into their next big adventure.

“Natsu, you’re the best novel I’ve ever written.”

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