#the fifth element was the one i was most unsure of putting on here but i have such residual fondness for it

[terpia]

Movie Vibes Poll

Thank you to @lairn for tagging me!

List five of your favorite movies and let your followers decide which vibes fit you best.

@whatevsbla @yikesola @insectbah (only if you want to!) and anyone else who would like to do this!

[spaghettiandart]

memories in three

Originally posted this on the aminos sometime during march, but decided (as of may 3 at 12 am) to post it here too! Yay spur of the moment decision! The rest of the post is from the blogs on the UT and UTAU aminos, and the story is under the cut.

author's note: this was mostly made to be part of my oc's backstory, but then i realized it could exist as a nice character development thing. the art was done on medibang paint and took 2 weeks.

characters: w. d. gaster, grillby, oc

categories: fluff, angst, friendship.

warnings: non-graphic violence, death, blood, mild language. 

word count: 4092

[I] |        one - the calm 

The time they had was always finite. Even at the genesis of it, they knew. They'd look at eachother, a circle of three, assigned to stick together and be loyal to one another, and they knew there'd be no way they'd get along. 

It was so easy to pretend, but with five months gone and passed it was getting harder to feign ignorance. 

The violent crackles and pops of Grillby's flames match the rapid beating of his SOUL, colors rising to the white and lowering until it was a pathetic red in uneven jitters of anxious panic. He focused on pouring the rum into the barbarously crafted wooden mug, the familiar motions soothing his shaking hands until he felt some semblance of normality surround him. 

The background quiet set him on edge, still. He could feel the flames on his shoulders worming their way through the openings on his armor, fingers immediately twitching to cast a flame ball, or reach for his sword, or pour another drink, or so something so that they weren't empty and susceptible to the whims of his ever-twisting emotions. 

The tension- oh, how he hated the tension. Being silent was his favorite sport, his carefully cultivated talent, but he was a creature born and bred to exist in the midst of warm chatter and noise. He was not the type of man to be relaxed in silent, cold hate, and neither was he the type to mediate it. 

Grillby picks up the three mugs by their handles, two hanging precariously from one hand, cradled to his chest, and the other already making its way to his mouth. The liquid stung at him, but not in the way human beverages did. While their concoctions were tasteless and lowered his HP by decimals, this was warm and fuzzy and the bubbly froth filled his mouth like cotton. 

His team was already there. WingDings Gaster, Grand Arcane Battle Artificer of the Deltarune Legion, and Igneous No-Name, Grand Arcane Battle Mage-Scribe of the Deltarune Legion. The names were long in Human English, even longer in traditional Monster languages, but Titles had Meanings and must be Specific and Precise so as to grant Monster the Respect they Deserve. Said verbatim by his own King when he was given his title. 

(Grillby No-Name, Fifth General of the Deltarune Legion, was what was inscribed on the back of the wings of his own silvery Deltarune-Symbol pendant. Every Monster soldier got one, regardless of their station and their specific designations. His own was cold enough for precipitation to collect on the metal, enchanted to withstand heat damage.)

His enchanted helmet is resting on a stack of parchment like a paperweight, turned away from the table so that its face was pointed at the wall. The silence was turned up tenfold the minute Grillby sheepishly walked into their section of the "room", and the two magic-users turned their mutual cold shoulder on him as well.

It shouldn't hurt, but Grillby had to stop himself from reeling as if he were struck by a physical hand. Oh, this wouldn't do. 

They were a team, after all. Of the same Legion, of the same Fifth Division, of the same status. The silence killed him, repulsed his being down to the core because it was so very anti-him. Anti-Flame Elemental, even, because even when they were quiet the crackling of their flames were enough to communicate their feelings to another. 

He only had body language to go off of the two. They may be masters at putting up facades, but he was a master of interpreting them, so the minute he sets the mugs down on the table he immediately pushed the stack of books piled in between Gaster and Igneous like a great wall crumbling to the ground, uncaring of the way the two jumped and jolted at the noise. 

His SOUL pounded, filled with anxiety and slight reprieve at the sound, but he needed more. He hated speaking, he much rather would be the one spoken to, but there are little people to be found who'd like to ramble for hours on end to a stranger save for drunken heretics at the little old tavern he used to manage decades ago. 

"What in the goddamn are you doing?" Igneous exclaimed, hood haphazardly slipping off her head and catching onto her big ears, holding on for dear life in a losing battle. 

"I concur. What on Earth is wrong with you?" Gaster snapped the large tome he was pretending to read shut, the sudden action too surprising for him to not address.

Grillby takes the time to sip from his mug, before setting it down lightly. "... You're both acting like children when we are all adults. Talk out your problems."

Igneous glared at him with an impressive amount of venom. For someone with only two eyes to convey emotion, she knew how to convey it. "I am not talking to a child murderer."

The remaining monster in the room scowled at Igneous, and then at Grillby. "Tell the Mage that human children are the easiest and most reliable source of SOULs to harvest to bolster our ranks."

Igneous' eyes narrowed and her glare intensified. "Tell the Artificer that by killing the humans' children we'd only encourage them to attack as harder. Also tell him he's a shitbag for suggesting it in the first place."

"Tell the Mage that she's a naive twat if she thinks that war can be won with no sacrifices."

"Tell the Artificer that sacrifices of that degree are uncalled for and that he smells of elderberries."

"I do NOT smell like elderberries you-"

Grillby clapped his hands once. A burst of flame shot out from the vents on his shoulders and the palms of his hands, making the bickering pair freeze simultaneously from where they were slowly turning their heads to face each other. 

"This is what I am talking about," the Swordsman looked at them both with a disappointed gaze from behind his crystalline glasses. "... Children, we are adults. You're going to apologize to each other and agree to disagree, or else I will burn one of the books you collected from the Human Mages."

Gaster slammed his hands down on the table and began to stand, expression thunderous. Igneous' eyes widened to such a degree that they threatened to pop out of her head, and she snapped her head back as if he struck her. 

"Child number one, sit down. Child number two, stay quiet- I know you will say something and I will make you regret it," Grillby steepled his fingers, the effort of speaking for so long already taking the energy out of him. He heaved in a breath, the air making his flames crackle with strength. "... Child number one- it may be hard to realize this, but killing children is inarguably immoral and degenerate. Child number two- I advise you to set your pride aside, else your inability to accept the flaws of your naivety may cause you more harm than good... Now apologize, because I am becoming very annoyed at having to speak so much..."

The two stared at him as if he sprouted a second flaming head from his shoulder. Grillby lit up a single finger and held it over a stray paper on the table that escaped his rampage on their books. 

Gaster was the first to break. "... ahem," he shifted uncomfortably, and stuck his nonexistent nose in the air so that he looked down at Igneous. "I suppose that I will have to concede at that. Your... interesting... worldview is something we can't quite see eye to eye on."

Grillby stared at him harder, and his shoulders slumped as he hunched over the table.

"And I apologize for my unprofessional conduct," he sighed, picking at the knicks and scratches in his hands in a nervous manner.

The Spirit Remnant stared at the- Skeleton? Shadow Creature? Wraith? Gaster never disclosed what kind of monster, exactly, he was- with clear contempt that faded away into uncomfortable and annoyed vulnerability. She rolled her shoulders, tail curling around her left ankle protectively.

"You're still a terrible creep, and I cannot deny that I would sooner pound you to dust with my bare hands than see you harm a child of any kind," she said, quietly, "but I understand that... things must be done for the greater good, sometimes. I apologize."

The air became heavy with guilt and frustration at that, but at least they weren't outright holding each other in contempt. Grillby prepared himself to speak for hopefully the last time that day. 

"... Good. Adult One, Adult Two, may I present to you your rewards for acting your age," he slid over the mugs of wine to the both of them, glad that he couldn't physically let out the relieved sigh he would have released were he able to breathe at the sight of the suddenly bright expressions the two had.

Igneous casted a furtive, unsure glance at Gaster, who angled his body away from the both of them and glared at the papers beneath him. He didn't cover them from her view when she leaned over to glance at them, her brows quirking in question as she took another sip. 

The mood didn't instantly change to comfortable. They didn't relax around each other, not immediately. But Grillby could feel the tension in his shoulders drift away as he watched Igneous quietly shoot the other with a question, and Gaster exchanging it with one in return. 

The stress of the war was taking its toll on him, but seeing the two gratefully take small sips of his homemade rum and shyly exchange words about their respected professions made the weight on his chest lighten just a little. 

|        two - the storm 

The battle is disorganized chaos, and he hates it. Not for the slaughter, not for the blood shed, not for the dust carried by the wind. He hates the sheer animalistic frenzy everyone on the battlefield was sent into- it's as if the second the fight began the primal instinct in their minds seemed to suddenly reveal itself, possessing their bodies and taking away their willpower to keep their hidden urges hidden. 

Such was evident in the human shoving his sword into the throat of a bunny monster, rendering them to dust before the blade could slice its way out. Or a monster with a dragon's muzzle unhinging its jaw like a snake and snapping up a human mage, their spine crushed under the pressure in an instant. 

Or even his own... companions, battling back to back against a frenzy of knights, swords gleaming and magic spewing around them. They were beaten down, armor covered in mud and muck, and from the minute trembling carried across their bodies it seemed as if they were ready to topple at any moment. 

Gaster's fists tightened as his Special Attack blasted yet another beam of energy to render a pitiful human to ash, the conjured hands twisting in midair before flocking to his sides like a pair of dogs. He looked down from the cliff he was standing on at the clearing they were fighting in, chest heaving from exertion. He couldn't let it overtake him, not yet, but the exhaustion was close to killing him. His limbs hurt to their very core. 

Igneous and Grillby were practically attached at the spine with how closed in they were. Igneous had snaked a hand around a human's neck, crushing his windpipe before resting her weight on Grillby's back and launching herself in the air. 

Her conjured wings flung out from her back, and she slammed her foot into the chest of another knight, caving it in from the magically-reinforced pressure. 

Despite the human bodies piling up around them, more seemed to flood the two as if recognizing them to be the heavy hitters they were. A human swung out with his sword, and Grillby caught it with his own flaming one, pushing it back. The two were neck and neck, heels dug into the ground as the gleaming blades fought against each other. The human's head shifted forward, as if they were saying something, and Grillby's flames burst into a column of blue, indignant fire. 

The human took the opening his anger gave them by twisting their body and throwing their weight into Grillby's chest, pummeling him into Igneous and the ground. 

Igneous flipped head over heels, wings dissipating as she lied face down. Grillby was shakily getting up, but the human struck out and suddenly there was a hole in the side of his armor, frost creeping around it. 

Gaster scowled, and took a few steps back from the cliff in preparation. A voice behind him interrupted his motions. 

"You meet your end, monster," a voice hissed from behind him. He tilted his head slightly, and upon seeing that it was only a mage he scoffed. 

"Do tell the clouds hello," Gaster flicked the human mage away with little pressure and much disdain from one of the conjured hands, and set his jaw as he hopped onto the back of one of his hands. There was no time to be wasted with meaningless banter.

Hell would sooner freeze over than him seeing his fr- companions, his companions- Fall Down. 

Smaller hands materialized around his body, hitting and punching and swatting away oncoming attackers as he rode the hand down the side of the cliff. The fingers stretched out, and he bent his knees ever so slightly. 

As the end of the cliff was reached, curving into the clearing, he jumped with all his might off the hand and to the side, landing in a roll before hopping to his feet. 

The hand continued on, and barrelled into the human slowly approaching Grillby with the force of a stampeding bull. 

Their sword flew out of their hand and embedded into the bark of a nearby tree with a 'thunk!' and Igneous quickly picked up the slack as the hand dissipated, energy coalescing in her hands. Feathers caged the human in.

"... God... no, no," the human moaned in pain, attempting to get up on their elbows. They glared up at the three just as Grillby picked up his sword from where it lay discarded on the ground, grip trembling. 

"You dirty freaks," the human weakly said, their chest heaving and breath wheezing. Perhaps that hand broke a few bones... oh well. Gaster found that he didn't much care about not knowing, this time, taking much pleasure in watching Grillby advance at the human with his own sword held aloft. 

"You're not m-monologuing, right?" Igneous spoke up, her own breath wheezy. Catching the brunt of Grillby's weight must have hurt, because her entire body was trembling with poorly hidden pain. Almost unconsciously, Gaster shifted his body so that he was in front of her. Her body was trembling in shock and indignation, eyes wide and animalistic as they focused on the human. She looked ready to pounce. "Goddamnit... what are you waiting for, Grillbz? Just end them already!" 

The human ignored her, slowly getting on their knees. Their fists clenched. "Y-you... you won't win this war. Kill me, but my brothers and sisters will avenge me! Our mages, our knights, our horses, our citizens- they'll all fight, all against you monsters!" 

"Please kill them," Igneous practically begged Grillby, her wispy 'hair' flickering piteously. "They’re not useful. They’re not- just- kill them, please.”

"No, wait," Gaster found himself muttering, suddenly. Igneous snapped her head in his direction, eyes wide- and he almost flinched back at the desperation in her eyes. What did that human say? "I want to see what he'll do."

Grillby was examining the human curiously. His masked head tilted this way and that, his hands exchanging the swords as he stood in front of the human, looking down at it. Music, unidentifiable in genre, played in the distance. 

The human looked up at him, glaring through the slits of their helmet. "You know... you know this. And... y-you know what I said before... I w-was right. Kill me, but you'll have to live with that... and that's enough for me to die happy."

There was silence. The two stared at each other, carefully. 

"Well?" The human barked. "You're not going to end it? Take me prisoner, then! Flaunt me around! I still won't-!"

Their head was on the ground in a SOULbeat. Gaster and Igneous took a simultaneous step back as blood stained the grass underneath the human, the armored Flame Elemental examining the corpse before kicking it on its side, stomping back to them.

"... Wasn't going to let their dying words be them telling me what to do," he muttered once he reached them. 

Igneous' shoulders seemed to drop suddenly, and she looked around them. Corpses, bodies, dust- they were all strewn about the battlefield haphazardly. There was no art behind them. No grand imagination from the divines above. 

Just the reeking scent of death lingering over them all. 

She took this in, much like Gaster was, and then looked at him. She had no mouth to smile with, but her eyes crinkled ever so slightly at the edges. 

"You saved our skins back there," she said, voice still quavering from the quiet horror carried within it, and reached out a hand to him. Gaster hesitated, but let it land on his shoulder. The tall monster gripped it firmly, resting her weight on it. "I won't forget this, you know."

"You can start bothering me about it tomorrow," Gaster said, feeling a bit lightheaded. 

Igneous shook her head at that, and gave it a few pats before moving away and CHECKing herself, digging around her small inventory for food. "I don't mean it like that. I mean- yes, I am absolutely going to tease you about this for the next month, but... you... you really do..."

Grillby sheathed his sword suddenly, and looked up at the cliff from where he rode down from. There was a quiet surrounding them. "... care about us."

Gaster shifted from foot to foot. He was no child. He was an adult, for God's sake. Why did he feel so... embarrassed, all of a sudden? 

A cheer rose up in a crescendo of voices from beyond the cliff just as the sun made its way to the top of Mt Ebott and began to hide behind it. The battlefield was painted in a swath of gold and pink, and suddenly he wasn't so much focused on the chaos of it all as he was on the way the colors seemed to highlight the edges and curves of the two in front of him, how it made them all the more... real. 

Gaster stepped closer to the two. "The humans have retreated. We should be... getting back, now."

It was Grillby who set a hand on his shoulder this time, his face pointedly looking away and at the sunset. "... five minutes."

"Ten," Igneous chimed in, brushing his arm with her own. 

The trio stood there throughout the sunset and into the night, and Gaster woke the next morning with his friends resting on either shoulder, the dewy grass fresh underneath him and the battle feeling as if it took place years ago instead of the evidence of it being right behind him. 

He watched the rising sun and smiled. There's the peace he was waiting for. 

|        three - the pieces

The last time Igneous woke up from her  Hibernation Pack, it was to a boss monster with kind eyes looming over her. 

She panicked, at first. Scrambled back, and then turned to alert the Spirit Remnants that she was resting with that there was an intruder in their den. 

All that she was met with was piles upon piles of dust. 

"I was able to stop him from hurting you, too," he had rumbled from behind her, " but I'm afraid that I was too late for your companions."

She turned back around, eyes wide with outrage. 

He held a paw out towards her, offering comfort. It was stained with the humans blood. 

She took it, and pulled him close, demanding that he give her a way to get revenge. His paw clenched involuntarily from surprise, and his dark claws nicked her ethereal skin. 

Her essence joined the human's blood, and in the budding tears in her eyes an agreement was formed. 

Centuries later, Igneous wakes up in a comfortable, warm bed inside a comfortable, warm home underneath the large mountain that she fought for her life on. 

The nightmares were long gone, and memories were reserved for the day to sort through. All that was left for her dreams was darkness and static and white, mutilated hands reaching out for her with holes dug deep into their palms.

She never remembered them, and woke up each morning with the sense of loss lingering heavily in her chest. 

In the room over, the sounds of chatter and the dinging of a bell signifying the front door opening and closing began to grow louder and more frequent. Igneous was frozen in the hallway connecting her and Grillby's bedrooms, curled up in a small armchair haphazardly placed there five years, seven months, and six days ago when the two were refurbishing the building and couldn't decide in which room to put it. They decided to share instead, setting it outside and in between their rooms. 

She pulled her knees up to her chest, the chattering growing louder in her ears. Soon she'd have to step out and start taking their orders, but breakfast doesn't officially start in another… ten minutes, or so. 

She can take her time. 

The swaying pendulum hanging on the wall across from her demanded all her attention, grabbed her by the shoulders and looked her in the eyes and reflected her past to her. Her stomach flipped with each sway of the object, hands traveling from her knees to her ankles and gripping them tightly.

It's been centuries. But that loss… was it only from the monsters dusted? Was it only from what that human revealed to Grillby and to her during that fateful fight? Or was it from that missing piece, the hole that separated both her and her friend, the dust-ridden and empty guest bedroom untouched that rested at the end of the hall? 

Her fingers clenched tighter, digging holes into her pants that would be covered up by her boots later. 

Was it the unfortunate fates of her pack? The piles of dust she woke up sleeping on, almost ready to join them before Asgore interrupted their murderer? 

Was it what the human said? The quiet words, so low but loud enough at the same time to be heard from miles away, repeating in her ears? The truth, maybe even the sneer in their voice when they spoke, "Don't worry. We didn't dust all of our prisoners… but you will never find them." 

Or the missing piece? The unknown factor that frustrated and scared her to no end, the pounding in her ears whenever she looked at the words unscripted on that silvery pendulum swinging back and forth and back and forth in a maddening rhythm from where it hung on the wall? 

Her claws dug deeper, caught onto fabric, pulled. The seams of her pants ripped at the ankle, and her flickering, pseudo-fiery essence darted out in quick licks at the air. 

The words stayed in her mind whenever she looked at it, dissapeared when she looked away, reappeared with all the context behind them when she looked back.

Every morning was the same routine. The same, desperate staring at the Deltarune-symbol pendant hanging from the wall. The same hope that she'll remember the name after she looks away. 

The dread of not knowing if she'll remember to do it tomorrow. 

She reread the name for the four hundred and thirty fifth time, desperately imprinting it on her mind. Grillby had long stopped even glancing at the thing decades ago. She won't forget. 

She looks away. 

"Shit, I'm going to be late," Igneous muttered, staring at the clock instead. She stood from the chair, confused and wobbly in the knees. "I could've sworn I was just sitting for a few seconds…"

She hurried off down the hall, pulling on her boots as she walked through the Fire Exit. 

The pendulum swung on the wall, shaking as the door slammed closed, its name forgotten. 

Wing Dings Gaster

Grand Arcane Battle Artificer

Deltarune Legion

Division V

[tripleaxeldiaz]

maybe one day i’ll fly next to you

chapter 1/8

read on ao3

The sun is just rising when he gets to the rink, the early morning light streaming in through the high windows, making the ice glow. He’s the first one there, just like he planned, so he gets to take his time getting ready. He stretches a bit in the locker room before lacing up his skates and heading to the ice. Placing his guards on the boards, he takes a minute to just look, relishing in the stillness, the quiet, the smooth surface of the untouched ice. He takes one step, two, and he’s off, gliding through the mirrored surface, carving his path as he goes.

Buck can’t remember a time when skating wasn’t his entire life. He first put on skates at four, wobbling on the side of the rink while Maddie was in lessons. He started lessons of his own at six, and after that, he never stopped thinking about being on the ice. And he was good, too — by eight he was competing in the regional circuit, already landing a handful of clean triples when most kids were still struggling with doubles. He qualified for his first nationals at 10, won gold in Juniors at 11, and by the time he qualified for Junior Grand Prix at 13, people already knew his name. They knew his “modern artistry” as they called it, his powerful jumps, and talked about him like he was someone worth watching out for once he made it to the senior level.

It helped that by then, Buck was already addicted to competition. He loved skating on its own — the power he felt when he jumped and flew across the ice, the beauty of well-executed spirals and step sequences — but nothing made him feel more alive than doing it in front of a crowd and a panel of judges. Landing each element perfectly sent a thrill through him that he never wanted to stop feeling, and seeing his scores, usually much higher than others, was something that never got boring. He wanted to be the best, was on his way to being the best, and those hazy dreams of an Olympic gold medal didn’t feel quite as hazy anymore.

For a while, at least. Until he showed up.

But Buck doesn’t want to think about him right now, he just wants to enjoy the peace and quiet while he can. He’s not skating to anything in particular, just the music in his head taking him wherever feels right. He’s so lost in it, trying to nail the bit of choreo he just made up, that he doesn’t even notice Bobby until he hears him clapping from the benches. 

“Looks good, Buck. Talk to Hen, I think that would work in your new short.”

“Thanks Bobby,” Buck says, making his way to the boards. Bobby hands him his guards and his water bottle, heading back towards the locker room.

“Come on, we’re just about to get started.”

Bobby and Athena have had this beginning of the season meeting for as long as Buck has been at their club. They go over assignments for Grand Prix and the Challenger series, figure out general training schedules, and do a “goal setting session” for what they want to accomplish this season. 

Bobby calls it a “family meeting”, which is cute but also annoying. Skating isn’t a team sport. Families don’t win medals. And that’s all Buck wants to accomplish every season until he retires: he wants to win.

He sits down on a bench next to Maddie, who’s deep in conversation with Athena about her and Chimney’s programs, he’s sure. She’s been planning them since Worlds, so they’re probably fully choreographed and ready for competition. The Buckleys are nothing if not overachievers.

Bobby clears his throat, standing in front of the roll-away white board, and gets started. Buck’s half paying attention — it’s the fifth time he’s heard the “athletes aren’t born, they’re made” speech, he gets the point — letting his eyes wander over the small crowd of skaters. Chim’s on Athena’s other side, nodding along with Bobby. May and Hen are standing along the lockers, whispering quietly. The Juniors kids are sitting on the floor, in awe of their coach as he talks about hard work and victory. Buck gets it, he’s still a little in awe of Bobby himself, but not so much of his recycled speeches.

There’s one face, though, that he doesn’t see, and for a minute, he’s hopeful. He’s gone, he moved, he went to work with Rafael in Lakewood or something, so I’ll only have to see him maybe four times a year instead of every goddamn day thank god—

The doors to the locker room burst open, and fuck. 

Because, nope, he’s still here. Windswept and out of breath and 15 minutes late, yet somehow still oozing confidence and jackassery.

Eddie Diaz. Olympic Bronze Medalist. Two time reigning World Champion. And the absolute bane of Buck’s existence.

Bobby doesn’t even say anything, just waves him in and keeps talking. If Buck had been that late, even if it was for a good reason, he would have had his ass handed to him in front of everyone and would’ve had to run laps or something after his ice time. But of course, Eddie gets a pass.

Whatever.

Buck doesn’t pay much attention to the rest of the meeting, too busy trying to keep himself from glaring at Eddie every 20 seconds. He tunes in enough to hear that they’ll both be going to Skate America and NHK because of course they are and spends the rest of the meeting trying to keep his blood pressure down. When it’s finally over, he makes his way through the crowd to get back to the ice for his first session with Bobby. He’s scrolling through his phone, trying to find his music, when he feels someone walk over and join him on the bench. He looks over, and lo and behold— 

“Eddie,” he says with what he hopes is a low level of contempt.

“Buck,” Eddie responds, looking over and nodding as he laces up his skates. “Good summer?”

“Fine.”

“Ready for the season?”

“Always am.”

Eddie smiles, easy and charming, and Buck hates his fucking guts. He nods at him again as he heads onto the ice, and Buck gives into the temptation to thump his head against boards a few times.

It’s going to be a very long year.

~~~~~~~~~~

Buck has hated Eddie since they were 16 years old.

Okay, maybe “hate” is a little strong, but whatever emotion it is when just looking at a person makes you feel like smoke is coming out of your ears, that’s how he feels. 

It was his first season in Seniors, and he had been doing better than he expected in the first half — a silver and a bronze at his Grand Prixs, and fifth at the Grand Prix Final. Nowhere near perfect or the best in the world, but he was the best US men’s skater and poised to win gold at Nationals. He hadn’t even heard the name “Eddie Diaz” until he got to Nats, and even then it was just whispers — some small town kid from Texas who was landing clean quadruple jumps at a time when some of the highest ranked skaters couldn’t. Buck was working on them — his coach kept harping on how important they’d be to the sport one day — but he’d hit a growth spurt just before the beginning of the season, so he was still getting used to his new center of gravity. 

But the rumors were true, Buck saw it with his own eyes at a practice session. He remembers the mix of awe and dread as he watched Eddie jump — the thoughts of damn I want to be as good as this kid and he’s about to take everything from me.

Eddie won Nats by about 30 points. Buck came in second. The US only had one spot at both Four Continents and Worlds, and Eddie got picked for both. Something about having “a better chance with his abilities and consistency in the international field” or some other bullshit. 

He didn’t podium at either. Buck felt shamelessly vindicated.

Over the next three years, they became perfect foils of each other — Buck with good jumps but better artistic expression and connection to the music, Eddie a little stiff but a blur of height and speed in the air. They flip-flopped at competitions — Buck got silver, Eddie got gold. Buck got gold, Eddie got bronze. Nats turned into a yearly showdown, the media always highlighting their “friendly rivalry”. Buck must have been a better actor than he thought if he was coming across as “friendly”.

He won Nats right before the Olympics, pretty much guaranteeing his chances of getting named to the Olympic Team. Two days before the announcement, he broke his leg on a bad landing and felt his dreams shatter along with the bone. 

Eddie went instead. He placed third, higher than any US man had placed in 12 years. 

Buck watched it all from his couch, unsure if he’d ever be able to skate again.

Fast forward three seasons, and while Buck is still struggling to get his consistent jumps back, Eddie keeps skyrocketing. He hasn’t lost a major competition in two years and is the overwhelming favorite to win the gold medal in Beijing. It was bad enough to hear about it from other skaters or see at competitions, but then Eddie moved to Bobby and Athena’s club a year ago, so now Buck gets to suffer through first hand observation.

It simultaneously pushes him harder and makes him want to die.

Which is the exact feeling he has right now as he watches Eddie land a perfect quad toe triple toe combo. He tried the same combo yesterday and landed flat on his ass, so now he just wants to practice it over and over until it’s perfect and he can rub it in Eddie’s smug face. See, you’re not the only one who can do it. You’re not that special.

“You better watch how hard you’re frowning, Buckaroo, you’re gonna get wrinkles,” Hen says as she walks over to him. She follows his line of sight, and her expression turns from vaguely worried to exasperated. “Staring that hard at Eddie isn’t gonna make him fall.”

“It could,” he says. “Maybe I have untapped psychic powers that are just waiting to come out.”

She gives him a flat look. “Sure, and I’m the long lost crown princess of a small European country. Can we go over your free instead of fantasizing about stupid things, please?”

“Fine, fine,” Buck says, finally turning away from Eddie as he steps on the ice.

He loves his programs this season — he usually doesn’t get used to them for a few months, but this time around, he already feels connected. His short is more modern, melancholic and gritty, while his free is more classic, hopeful, makes him feel like he’s floating rather than skating. He’s always been good at choreography — either taking it and making it his own or creating steps himself — and he feels like both really highlight his talents. Plus Hen, being the amazing choreographer and friend that she is, let him have a lot more input this time around, so it all feels more authentic. He likes to think that no matter what happens, he’ll be proud of whatever he puts out with these pieces.

They work on his free for an hour, and he stays an extra two to work on his short and his jumps on his own. By the time he leaves, the sun has set, his legs are already sore, and he has a lovely bruise blossoming on his right thigh from falling on his quad flip three times in a row.

It’s all worth it, though. Because as much as he wants to be happy with his programs no matter what, he knows he won’t be unless they get him to the top of that podium, hearing the national anthem play with a gold medal around his neck.

~~~~~~~~~~

He’s floating away in his dream, higher and higher like a runaway helium balloon. He can see the whole world below him, spread out and endless, rolling hills and forests and oceans. He wonders if he’ll ever come back down, or if he’ll just keep moving up and up, into the atmosphere, into space, into a different universe. He thinks that might not be so bad.

Suddenly, he’s falling, plummeting back down to Earth like an asteroid. He’s racing and racing towards the ground, bracing for impact, for everything in his body to break, he’s falling and falling faster and faster—

He wakes with a yell, covered in sweat, his leg twinging. He takes a few minutes to breathe and get his heart rate back down, but even then, he’s still shaking.

He looks at the clock. 4:30am. He could go back to sleep — he doesn’t have practice until noon. 

Except his mind is churning now with the phantom memory of breaking. The feeling of going from standing to not being able to move, pain radiating from his leg into every other part of his body. The panic, not just for his body, but for his whole life and what it could turn into. What he could lose.

He lays there for another half an hour, but the memories just keep burning. So, he does what he always does when he needs to shut his mind off.

He goes to the rink.

First practice isn’t until 8am, so he uses his keys to unlock the back door. Chuck, the janitor, was sick of waiting two extra hours to lock up after him, so he gave him his own set after his first season. Buck gives him a giant cookie bouquet for Christmas every year in return.

He feels better after just a few laps around the ice. The chill that bites as he speeds up his pace, the white noise of his blades in the ice, it all settles him like nothing else. He speeds up still, setting up for a triple Salchow — easy, almost second nature, a jump he could do in his sleep. He pushes off, but as soon as he’s airborne, something jolts through him, makes his stomach turn over. He pops the jump to a single and lands on the wrong edge, losing his balance and sprawling across the ice on his back. He stays there, staring up at the lights, letting the cold leech in through his sweatshirt. 

Almost four years later, and this is still happening. He scares himself out of jumps like he expects each one to end badly, even though he knows — logically, statistically knows — that it’s unlikely. 

And yet. Here he is. On his back. After another failure.

He’s too tired to feel pissed or frustrated like he usually does, so he’s just resigned. Today is not the day for jumps. That’s just how it is.

He gets up finally and skates over to his bag, digs his headphones out and queues up his short program music. He works through the step sequences, over and over, making little tweaks as necessary, thinking through where the judges could take off points until it’s perfect. The repetition quiets the last of his racing thoughts, and he finally feels like himself again. 

He’s moving into his last spin when he sees movement out of the corner of his eye. He slows down enough to recognize Eddie, inching towards the locker room like he’s trying not to be seen.

Buck stops, staring Eddie down. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Eddie freezes eyes wide, looking suspiciously guilty. He walks forward, hand rubbing the back of his neck. “I have an 8am and wanted to beat traffic on my way in. The back door was open when I got here, and I saw the lights on, so I—” he swallows, looking anywhere but Buck’s face. There’s a blush crawling up his neck, and he looks nervous.

Nervous like he just got caught somewhere he shouldn’t be, Buck thinks. He narrows his eyes as he checks his watch — it’s 7:00. He gets wanting to beat traffic, but a whole hour?

He quickly makes his way off the ice, grabbing his bag from the bench. “Well, I’m done for now, it’s all yours.”

“Thanks,” Eddie says quietly. Buck’s just about through the door when he hears his name. He turns back to Eddie, his blush now all the way up to his hairline.

“You looked good out there. Can’t wait to see it in competition.”

Buck freezes, processing the compliment. A compliment. From Eddie. They hardly talk unless they have to, and even then it’s never friendly. Cordial, sure, but not friendly.

So why is he being so nice now?

Buck just narrows his eyes again before stalking off to the lockers.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Mads, I really think he’s gonna pull a Tonya Harding on me.”

She looks at him over her wine glass, unimpressed. “Yeah, because that worked out so well for Tonya the first time.”

“I’m serious!” he says, taking a sip from his own glass. Neither of them drink during the season, so they’re taking full advantage of their weekly wine nights while they can. Buck’s not a lightweight by any means, but two glasses in and he is starting to feel a little fuzzy. And a little crazy, trying to figure out what Eddie was up to this morning. “You haven’t seen any weird guys lurking around have you? You’d tell me if you did, right?”

Maddie rolls her eyes. “You sound insane.”

“I’m not insane if I’m right. Why else would he be watching me?”

“We all watch each other, Buck! He was watching Chim and me yesterday too while he was on break. He even said our twizzles were really in sync.”

“You better watch your back too, maybe he’s trying to take the whole club out.”

“Oh my god,” she says, pouring another, very full glass.

“He’s just so— he’s—”

“Annoyingly perfect? Obnoxiously talented? I know, Buck, you only bring it up every 15 minutes.”

Buck deflates at that. “I don’t— it’s not that often.” Sure, he rants about how clean Eddie’s edges are and how good his quad flip is, but that’s because it’s so irritating. Buck works just as hard as Eddie, and he knows he’s not flawless. But somehow, Eddie is. Stupidly flawless and perfect and— 

“I’m just saying,” she says, squeezing his hand across the table and bringing him back to the conversation. She pours him another generous glass, too. “This energy is great, but it would probably be better to put more of it into practice and less of it into worrying about one of your competitors. I know you’re nervous about this season, but you can’t let that turn into this weird paranoia. Don’t let it take your head out of the game.”

He sits back and sighs. She’s right, of course. She always is.

He doesn’t tell her that, though. Just takes a gulp of wine and tries not to think about Eddie’s annoyingly perfect anything. 

~~~~~~~~~~

There’s a news truck parked outside the rink when he gets in the next morning, and he spends about 15 minutes contemplating just going home and telling Bobby he’s sick. 

The lead reporter — Taylor, he thinks — claims they’re here to do a profile on the club and how they’re preparing for the Olympics, but he knows they’re mostly here for Eddie. They want any and all sound bites they can get from him to use over and over and over in coverage leading up to Beijing. Quotes about hard work and following his dreams that they can play over footage of him skating and smiling after winning again. Buck’s already annoyed at the prospect of seeing them on NBC Sports for the next six months.

To their credit, they do film everyone practicing at some point. They get Maddie and Chim doing their new rotational lift, May landing her triple lutz that she’s been working on for months, and Buck’s nearly perfect (if he does say so himself) flying camel spin. So at least they have good footage of him, not just random shots in the background of Eddie’s. Maybe he’ll even get his own little promo. 

Bobby calls him into his office after lunch, where the news crew has set up an interview space. He wasn’t expecting to talk to anyone — maybe a quick question at the boards, but nothing this fancy. He sits in one of the chairs as someone puts powder on his face and tries to do something with his hair. Taylor sits down across from him, a 1000-watt smile turned on as the cameras start rolling.

“So, Evan. Or do you prefer Buck?��

“Evan’s fine.” As much as he hates his first name, it’s how the general public knows him. Buck is reserved for friends and family.

And Eddie, an annoying voice reminds him. Fine, friends and family and...competitors.

“You came in second at Nationals and Four Continents last year, and fourth at Worlds. How do you feel about the momentum going into this Olympic season?”

“Every season is different,” he says as diplomatically as possible. These reporters always want drama, someone slipping up and bragging about themselves when they have no right to. He’s not wrong — every season is different. No matter who’s expected to win or who has the most medals, you never know how everything will play out. “We haven’t had a men’s field this strong in a while, so it’ll be interesting to see what happens. But I’m as prepared as I can be at this point.”

“You were injured right before the last Olympics. Do you see this year as a bit of redemption for yourself?”

He feels his smile go tight. “It’s every kid’s dream to go to the Games. It’s certainly still mine. I’m ready to do whatever I can to make that dream come true.”

“Eddie Diaz has been with your club for just over a year now. What’s it like training with him?”

There it is, he thinks. He’s surprised she asked so many questions about him before getting to Eddie. The first responses he thinks of are all variations of he sucks and I can’t stand the sight of him, but he knows any petty answers will be worse for him personally than anyone else. So, as much as it pains him, he settles on the nicest version of the truth he can muster.

“Eddie’s an amazing skater,” he says, surprising himself at how genuine he sounds. “He’s been paving new paths in the sport, and he’s pushed everyone to be better to try and get on his level, myself included. He definitely brings that same energy to the club.”

“Do you think you can beat him this year?”

Wow, she’s not holding any punches.

He shrugs, smiling through the sudden burst of anxiety in his veins. “We’ll just have to wait and see.” 

~~~~~~~~~~

Despite his less than fiery interview, Taylor asks him what he’s doing after practice right before they leave. It’s easy enough to turn her down — he’s got an early PT appointment in the morning, plus the way she’s been looking at him all day is making him itchy. He can tell she only sees him as an object — as a means to get her name on a lead story or a body to keep her bed warm or both — and that’s just not something he’s interested in. Maybe a few years ago, when sex was a way for him to forget about the potential end of his career, but not now.

As nonchalant as he was in the interview, this season really could make or break him. 

He can’t afford any distractions.

[coffeeshoptalkks]

nct 127 kibbe types

key: (D) dramatic, (SD) soft dramatic, (FN) flamboyant natural, (N) natural, (SN) soft natural, (DC) dramatic classic, (C) classic, (SC) soft classic, (FG) flamboyant gamine, (G) gamine, (SG) soft gamine, (TR) theatrical romantic, (R) romantic

the boyss ! ! ! 

taeil: SG? little unsure about this one... i considered R but his limbs are longer than an Rs would be but i would probably say he has a R essence as flowier fabrics like this look good on him

relatively large head in comparison to body

isnt delicate the way a TR would be

also TR lines don’t look great on him

im so sorry i always use ten for TR but like, TRs are freaking hard to type and hes non ambiguous so whoops

you can really see the contrast here

i feel like they always style him as a FG? and he just doesn’t have the yang to handle it 

think all the hair colors, excess excess amount of details that ty wears a lot

johnny: SD - sliGht C undertone 

long and lanky ass balloon man

thats all i got... jk. kinda

not a D, too much yin.

i’ve seen FN but really, hes not frame dominant, just looks tallish with a little squish in him

handles details decently well - oversized isn’t the best look

the reason i said a tiny c essence/undertone is because i prefer him in more minimalist SD clothing, more detail does start to look a little ridiculous (i promise i mean that in the nicest way possible lol, don’t come for my entp ass)

the classic comes in cause he looks PHENOMENAL in traditionally classic lines with a little umph and also looser classic lines (the yin in SD)

i needed to include this masterpiece

taeyong: FG. ah yes, the debate about ty... some argue D but he just doesn’t have the vertical line

(sitting somewhere btween D and FG, but FG fits better)

obviously a yang type

but you immediately remove any sort of natural and SD cause he isn’t wide and he isn’t squishy

doesn’t have the vertical line for a D, even from a lower angle you don’t look at him and go “yes, hes really tall” and thats what Ds are really about

it doesn’t matter how tall someone actually is, its how tall they appear to be, and taeyong just looks his height

think about how well ty carries every concept

thats a FG thing. (i can’t find the exact quote but a staff member said that its really interesting to style ty because u can put so many elements on him without it overpowering him

yuta: FG. if taeyong is a FG then so is Yuta

somewhere on the spectrum between FG and D but has to be put in FG just cause a dramatic’s first and foremost trait is vertical line

my next guess would be SD but really he doesnt have enough yin in him, hes all sharp

but because hes sitting somewhere in between he’s not gonna carry as much detail as a “purer(?)” FG

hes 100% yang based but doesn’t have the vertical line of a pure D

this looks phenomenal

he looks like a friggin anime character excUse me sir

i’m fine no i’m not

doyoung (dongyoung): SD. i’ve seen DC, and i do get the argument, but he isn’t as sharp as a DC would be.

you take a look at this and he just isn’t sharp in the way that seonghwa or vernon are

hes definitely a yang type but hes got an undercurrent of yin 

how do i explain this

SDs actually have a lot more yin than DCs despite them being placed closer to dramatic in a lot of graphs. (you know the ones i’m talking about)

even if you could make an argument for vertical line (as i think doyoung has a moderate to long one)

kai (a DC/C) is over 180 and yes he has a vertical line, but he has more yang than doyoung - hes just more boxy and has less yin

when i’m having trouble typing an idol i start looking really heavily at outfits and how they suit each style

doyoung just doesn’t make classic suits pop in the way a DC would

he looks restricted and needs a little extra yin detail to match 

the neck scarf with the draping absolutely ties this look together and he absolutely rocks it

he just doesn’t give me DC vibes and i really do think that SD fits him better

jaehyun: SC. leaning on pure classic with some sort of yin essence

okay, ngl i had problems with this one

I saw somewhere (probably reddit lmao) that jaehyun has a SD head on a not SD body... and i couldn’t agree more

my first instinct was to go to SD but really, he doesn’t have the vertical line and details don’t feel right

idk if its just how he’s styled but i really can’t find an era where i lOve what jaehyun is in

i genuinely think he’s just a larger boned SC with some SD mixed in with a weird combo of essences

a good example of a SC ish look is this where you can see the moderate vertical line (despite being 5′11/180)

it might be my personal bias coming in but i really do like him in more minimal and somewhat looser clothing opposed to him drowning in details

this confuses me cause it feels like it should work but it doesn’t...

this looks awesome this is pretty darn decent but i still feel like something is missing 

i compared jae’s vertical line to the SC poster boy joshua (svt 5th from the left) and kai (DC/C) and felt they josh’s was pretty similar but really, i wouldn’t rule out any of the classics or SD

idk if its just how he’s styled but i really can’t find an era where i lOve what jaehyun is in

tldr: big boned SC and thats as close as i’m gonna get lol

mark: FG. pretty self explanatory lol

leaning yang but obviously not a natural or (S) dramatic or classic

leaves you with FG

very sharp facial features

sharp sharp sharp

and a decent vertical line (looks his height ish)

rocks pretty much every hair color on the planet

if you asked me to nail down an essence i wouldn’t be able to hes just a FG lol

jungwoo: FN. classic essence

heres my problem with jungwoo... like jaehyun his type gets really ambiguous cause of essences not matching his actual body type (classic essence, FN type in this case)

because really, hes just too tall to be a DC,

too box like for SD

and his skin is much too yin to be a pure D (he is very squish, a true D - wonwoo svt is taught and yang through and through)

and once you rule out DC cause of height you’re kinda left with??

but his vertical line is just too prominent to be a DC, but hes not as shoulder heavy as most FNs and just?

*insert clown face*

a DC wouldn’t carry an oversized outfit like this

i actually like him in stuff like this, if not a little less oversized, he just looks so cozy

this gets close-ish but he looks a tad bit constricted

the reason i finally just gave in to FN is cause its as close as i think i can get. SD and D aren’t right, hes not a SN or pure N (jun svt) and in this pic (and others) you can kinda start to see that he IS actually more frame dominant than you first expect. (think like yanan pentagon, - minus the shoulders - super long limbs, lanky but still relatively squarish)

so FN it is

tldr: FN with a classic essence cause really thats (imo) the closest and best option you have and confused kpop fan 

haechan (donghyuck): G. right now i would put him in pure G but he might hit FG at some point in the future cause he isn’t 21 in international age and his type is still settling

boom vs resonance

okay its not that different but i sWEar hes picked up more yang somewhere

not a SG because his isn’t absolutely massive in comparison to the rest of his body 

chenle i’m looking at you (fifth from the left)

moderate to short-ish vertical line

sharp jawline vs squish face but he doesn’t have the sharp yang of a FG (mark)

just still got some squish on him 

[norhimorovine]

Saffron for Mistletoe

Norhi was in the yard next to the shop today. She had a hammer, a big tin of nails, and a stack of cut wood on her left. And on her right, was a stack of crates that she’d just put together. In front of her, Dischaus and Lhissa stood with their own small hammers and tins of nails.

Norhi carefully laid out three pieces of the wood side by side and then another piece across them on one end. As she began to nail them into place, she instructed her siblings, “Now, arrange them across the sawhorses like this. And we hammer two nails through each, so that there’s six nails, all the way down the cross piece. Once they’re all the way through, we take one more cross piece and do the other end. Then, we flip it over like this, and clinch the nails. Like so.”

Dis scrunched his nose, watching Norhi hammer the ends of the nails so they bent over flat against the wood. “Why do we bother with that? Why don’t we just leave them? Or buy shorter nails?”

Norhi chuckled. “Shorter nails are usually too thin to hold this wood together solidly. And to get this thickness in the right length, I’d have to custom order them from the blacksmith. Which gets expensive, for the number of crates we go through. And if we left them, someone might scrape their hand reaching in for a bottle. Or one of the nails might scratch and damage the product.”

Lhissa tilted her head. “The blacksmiths don’t make nails for crates normally?”

Norhi shrugged. “Oh, I imagine there’s a blacksmith out there that does. But… they don’t live near the Hawthorne Hut. And I do try to buy from our local blacksmith instead of traveling out of my way just for nails that I only need for crates. Especially since we also use these nails for repairing the cart, or for shelves for the shop, fences for the groves, and so on. Easier to buy bulk from a blacksmith that knows me. And… kinder to the Wood as well.”

Dis and Lhis exchanged confused looks. “How does buying nails from a local blacksmith be kind to the Wood?” “I thought the Forest didn’t like metal.” “And we’re using it to hammer wood from the Forest!”

Norhi laughed and set aside the finished panel, before starting another. “Well… That’s a story.”

“Story!! Tell us!”

Now, in a little village, deep in the farther reaches of the Twelveswood, there was a merchant. He was a well to do man, with a nice shop. People from the village depended on him. And they respected him. After all, he was the one who secured furs and meats from local hunters, and items from traveling traders that could not be made in their own homes.

Life seemed perfect and content. Their village knew peace. The shop was successful. And the only complaints were the local boys getting into mischief.

Now, the summer festival was upon them. The merchant set up his shop, opening the great window and setting out the crates of goods. His wife hung garlands of flowers from the eaves, and a wreath on the shop door. The other businesses around them - the blacksmith, the tavern, the baker - were all doing the same. And traveling traders came in from the roads, setting up their little carts of wares, also decorated for the festivities. The feast was set up, the dance floor was filled, the conjurer was giving out blessings and purification masks. All in all, it was going to be a grand year.

As the day began to draw to a close, the merchant and his wife began to slowly pack back up. But before they could finish, a foreign man in bright silks and gold jewelry, came up to the open window. “My good sir! I would like to trade with you!”

The merchant was rarely one to refuse the idea of business. So he turned back to the window and smiled, “Of course! What can I help you with?”

The foreigner gave the man a cat-like grin and pulled a strange pouch from his voluminous coat. “I have here a spice from the far east, which we call saffron. It is most rare and hard to produce, requiring the careful, skilled hands of artisans with a lifetime of work. These fine yellow threads will add a wonderful fragrance and flavor to any savory dish! They are sought after by the richest gourmands of the great cities!”

The merchant seemed unsure, as he answered, “That sounds like an invaluable item indeed. Why bring it to me? We are humble people here.”

The foreigner’s grin spread a little more. “Oh why? Because, my good sir, what a better way to liven up a humble life, than with a few exotic treasures and treats? No doubt your village headsman’s wife would give great gil to have this delicacy in her kitchen.”

The merchant rubbed at his chin, thinking that it would be nice if the headsman’s wife was a little more generous in her next shopping trip. He then narrowed his eyes at the foreigner. “And how much would this little bag of spice cost me? What good does it bring to reach for exotic treasures we can’t afford?”

The foreigner held aloft a finger, as if revealing a secret. “Ah, but for you, my good sir, it is not so expensive. For you see, these very piles of walnuts you have in this crate, are not so common back east. To us, they are the exotic treasure!”

The merchant shrugged. “But they are not so hard to gather, nor require a lifetime of experience. My own son gathered these from the forest yesterday.”

The foreigner nodded. “True, true. But also, you have these little plants here, this… mistletoe. It is quite useful for alchemists. And this variety does not grow in the east. No doubt this is a little harder to gather.”

The merchant mused on this for a moment. “That is true. So, how much of my mistletoe and my walnuts, do you want for that one bag?”

The foreigner grinned, “For all of your mistletoe and all of your walnuts, I will give you half of my saffron.”

The merchant shook his head. “I have people here who will want some of these still. I will give you two-thirds, for half of your saffron.”

The foreigner seemed unconvinced, almost putting the little pouch away again. “Then, all of your mistletoe, and half of your walnuts. For half of my saffron.”

The merchant snorted. “No no. The conjurer’s wife will come for some of that mistletoe tomorrow morning. She always does. No. Four-fifths of the mistletoe, two-thirds of the walnuts, for two-thirds of your saffron.”

The foreigner seemed to waver before finally smiling. He reached out and shook the merchant’s hand. “A deal we have! I will go bring your saffron.”

The merchant grinned. “And I will bag up your walnuts and mistletoe.”

Soon, the exchange was done. And that night, the foreigner left.

The next morning, the conjurer’s wife came to the shop. The conjurer’s wife was sad to see that there was so little mistletoe left. The merchant apologized and said they would have more soon. The conjurer’s wife nodded and bought what was there, making her way out with a sigh. The merchant felt some guilt at this. He did not like that he had disappointed her.

But this worry soon fled, as the headsman’s wife came in the door. The merchant happily showed her the saffron, telling her of the qualities the foreign man had espoused the night before. Being the vain woman she was, she happily bought a hefty sum of the saffron.

The days following, more villagers came to buy the saffron, after sampling the headsman’s wife’s cooking with it. It soon ran out. And they were sad for its loss. But life went back to normal.

A moon later, the foreign man returned. He gave the merchant a sly grin. “The saffron brought you riches, I see.”

And the merchant, who had profited well enough to afford a new waistcoat, nodded. “I suppose you can say that I did. What other exotic treasures do you have?”

The foreigner grinned his catlike smile and opened his cart.

The next day, the merchant hawked his new fabulous wares. And the villagers loved it. Though, no few of them were disappointed to find that there were no walnuts or mistletoe at all. And that there wasn’t as much of the potting clay or alumen, as usual.

The merchant grew richer off of his new wares. Though, he found that when he went to buy potions from the conjurer’s wife, that they were almost gone. It seemed she did not have enough materials for what she needed. And when he got home, his wife complained that the local potter couldn’t make her a new jug, since he’d just run out of clay. He consoled his wife, saying he’d go to the next village to buy what they needed.

Several moons passed this way. The foreign man would show up and trade his exotic goods for things that the village rather needed. And when the villagers came the next day, there was so little left for them of their usual goods, that they began to complain. And when they weren’t complaining of that, they were arguing over the exotic wares, competing to get to them before they ran out too. What’s more, the merchant had begun to make regular trips to the next village, to buy the things the village was no longer making, for his own household. The trips were becoming costly. And the neighboring village was growing suspicious.

Finally, the foreign man returned again. The merchant shook his head. “I cannot. No longer. My village needs these things you ask for. The exotic treasures you bring, they are wonderful. But they bring strife too. Our potion-maker no longer has potions, because you bought all the plants she needed. Our potter has no jugs, because you bought all the clay. And the village bickers over the things you trade to us. They’re wonderful. But they’re also a curse. I’m sorry, but no longer.”

The foreigner frowned sadly. “Are you certain? Perhaps if I sent you word in advance. Tell you what things I wish to trade for? You can stock up enough for the village and for me?”

At this point, the village headsman and the conjurer, followed by several more of the village, stepped forward. The conjurer bowed low, as he spoke, “Dear sir, you have brought an expensive lesson to our lives. But we cannot do as you ask. We cannot over-harvest in this forest, lest we anger the elementals.”

The headsman nodded in agreement. “We have our ways here. And while we do not mind a little variety now and again, we are too small a village for the expenses you bring us. Please return with the next festival, but no other time.”

The foreign man mused on this for a long moment and then nodded. He reached into his cart and pulled out a bag of tea leaves. “I understand. It brings me grief to know that I have caused such turmoil for your lovely village. As an apology, here are the rarest tea leaves I could bring from the east. Brew them and offer them to your elementals for my wrongs. When I return with the next festival, I will bring treasures that will befit a festival, instead of thinking of my own pockets.”

The conjurer accepted the bag of tea leaves. “Be safe on the road, kind sir.”

The merchant shook hands with the foreign man once more, before turning back to his shop. But as he turned, he spotted a glimmer in the trees, just out of the village’s edge. He thought for a moment that it was some large bird, except that it glowed with radiant magic. The creature vanished in a wink, leaving the merchant staring in shock. He turned back to the conjurer and said, “I will help you offer the tea to the elementals. It was my decision to accept the trade, that started this whole affair.”

The conjurer smiled knowingly and nodded. “Of course. Let us go do that.”

And after that, the merchant never saw the glowing creature again, the foreign man only came at the festival time, and the village once again knew piece.

Norhi picked her hammer back up, as she finished the story. “So… I buy nails from our local blacksmith, because it’s good for people to support their neighbor’s businesses.”

Dis scrunches his nose. “But you travel all over to sell Zuzu’s potions.”

Norhi nodded. “True. But I also buy things in all those places, after selling our wares. So… some of that money is going right back into the markets. And… I tend to stick to big cities. Their markets are built for foreign trade, unlike small villages. And… I imagine that the story probably could’ve ended differently, if someone who understood trade and markets, was there to create a better solution. As it stands, that story teaches us to be thoughtful of our clients and our vendors.”

Lhis grinned. “So, big nails for everything!”

Norhi wilted. “That… I just… Lhis, no.”

[vuelie-frost]

Frozen 2, the spoiler debacle, and the dehumanization of Elsa

Hello there! Let’s talk. (Warning: this post will contain some of the leaked spoilers. Read at your own risk!) You may notice this is my first and only post on this blog. I started this side-blog just to iterate my opinions on Frozen in an anonymous setting, and my main account isn’t suited for that. As for me, I’m a 26-yo Frozen fan. Elsa is my favorite fictional character of all time; she means a lot to me. By day I work as a graphic designer in the southern US, by night I struggle to sleep. Really exciting life. 

Anyway, because I’m human trash, I read the spoilers. I sought them out. I kind of regret it. Initially I was shocked, hurt, betrayed, and uneasy about the apparent direction this movie is going in. And the more I read about people’s backlash & opinions, the more my understandings were bolstered. People have a lot to say about this. People get very up-in-arms about the direction their fictional characters take. 

Let me start by saying that if you are staunchly opposed to the PERCEIVED ending of the movie, I’m probably not going to change your mind. I’m writing this for those people like me who are just confused, uncertain, worried, and anxious. After all, we have a whole month until this movie is released. Are we going to have to live in this limbo for another month?

After reading a lot of accounts & interpretations of Frozen 2, I want to say: no. 

If the implied ending is in fact how the movie ends- separation of the sisters, Anna as sole monarch, Elsa as the fifth spirit- I’ve made my peace. And you can too (Excuse me while I sound like an infomercial.)

First, let me play devil’s advocate and pull some of the speculation apart from the facts:

- Regarding the pages from the art book, we don’t know if Elsa relinquishes her title to Anna. There’s nothing saying they’re not co-rulers. It notes that Anna inherits the throne from the “queens before her,” including Elsa, but this could be interpreted as “Elsa was queen first,” NOT “Elsa is no longer queen.”

- We don’t know if Elsa becomes a goddess, immortal, or some ethereal being. There is mention of her becoming the fifth element, but this could be a descriptive characteristic, NOT prescriptive (ie, she doesn’t need to “transform” to become it, she is it by simply being herself.) If that even is true. It’s just as likely that the bond of Elsa-Anna is the bridge/fifth element, not Elsa herself. AND if the fifth element is the harmony between humanity & spirit, Elsa can’t become un-human to fulfill that role, or she becomes wholly spirit... which is what Pabbie warned against in “losing herself” to magic. Also note that “transformation” was used to describe Elsa in her Ice Palace in the first movie. It didn’t mean she became inhuman, it meant she became more herself.

- We don’t know the nature of their “separation,” if there even is one (the leaked book pages talk about different roles only, and the Foreword of the art book only alludes to them living different lives.) The picture of Elsa riding away on the Nokk & waving? That doesn’t mean she’s leaving forever. Hell, she could be off to save Olaf from a wolf. 

- We don’t know that there are two separate Epilogues chronicling their separate journeys. The Color Script page has two boxes labeled “Epilogue.” It also has two pages labeled “Dark Sea.” Are those two separate scenes? Or just two color schemes? Given the context of the sheet’s title... I’m going with the latter.

We know very little about the context of the movie to make these judgements anything more than speculations. Take a deep breath. The movie isn’t ruined.

However, if these things turn out to be true, we can still be at peace with the decisions made at Disney Animation by preparing an open mindset. Here's how I’ve been processing it, and how I’ve come to defend the creative team regardless of their decisions for Elsa & Anna. The Perception of Wrongdoing There are a few specific implications in the spoilers that rubbed me the wrong way. I’d been optimistic for the movie until this morning when I pored over everyone’s interpretations. I don’t like the idea of the girls being separated. I don’t like the idea of Elsa no longer being queen (at least, in royal title via her family line. Snow Queen is a different honor.) I don’t like the idea of Elsa becoming something more than human, a spirit or goddess or force of nature. Elsa is beloved because of her humanity. In fact, I think the first Frozen was beloved because of its humanity. We saw the weaknesses and vulnerabilities of its two heroines and we fell in hard, deep love with the story. We’ve had so many years to marinate on that story over and over again that it’s become cozy and familiar, a hygge of itself. 

And when we’re faced with the prospect that our favorite story’s world is about to be flipped on its axis, we panic because it feels vulnerable. We’ve put so much love and time into this franchise and we feel helpless to watch other people- the people who are, in fact, in charge- make decisions about it. Dehumanization

Because of my love for Elsa, I’ll speak about her as an example, though this applies to any aspect of the story we feel is “wrong” in the sequel.

There are two ways to dehumanize someone. One is to think of them as worthless; the other is to idolize them. 

It’s not a secret that Elsa is one of the most idolized fictional characters of our time. Some of her creators even fell a little bit in love with her, as admitted by Jennifer Lee. She was written as someone who is inherently beautiful, but fragile and unsure of herself. She is kind, gentle, wise, and compassionate. Even her flaws- her penchant for being too reserved, her anxious and worried nature- are romanticized into beauty. Moreover, her flaws as characteristics rather than actions make it difficult for us to perceive her as anything other than our perfect, honorable Snow Queen.

Codependency, by definition, involves the idolatry of another human. Obviously Elsa being fictional doesn’t make her codependent to anyone, as it’s not a mutual relationship. But the idolatry is there. We feel we “need” her to be and act a certain way to fulfill our desires. 

So when we hear word that she’s acting in a way we don’t like? We get scared. Perhaps we didn’t understand her the way we thought we did. Perhaps we’re not as “close” to her as we thought. Perhaps it feels like a betrayal. 

Jennifer Lee & Christopher Buck know Elsa better than we do. We project our own experiences onto the character of Elsa because she’s so unique and still relatable. But her creators are the ones who know her wholly, truly, as she is. Jennifer Lee wrote journals to “listen” to Elsa & Anna, and their respective stories. They employed mental health professionals to analyze the characters and help determine arcs that would make sense. They care a lot about what these sisters do and feel, and no one- not even you or me- is more committed to playing these characters truthfully.  This is something that idolatry blinds us to. The image of Elsa in our heads doesn’t match the expression in the sequel, and we get scared of the cognitive dissonance. Who is Elsa if she’s not the Queen? Who is Anna if she’s not living with her sister? We panic because what we THOUGHT we knew is suddenly revealed to be a lie. We imagined the ending of Frozen 2 to be an idyllic family setting, when in fact it might stretch our definition of “family.”  All that to say: it’s okay to be scared of what this movie might reveal about characters we thought we knew. The familiarity of the first movie is being challenged. But growth can’t happen without some sort of variable change. It’s okay to disagree with how the creators specifically do that, but be aware of why they chose to make those decisions in the first place.  The trailers have been alluding to a separation of some kind, with Elsa’s “What would I do without you?” to Anna’s “you’ll always have me” as foreboding clues to the movie’s interpersonal conflict. For reasons we don’t know, this is the route the creative team has taken. It might feel unfair, but we don’t have the whole story. And whatever that story is.... it will all be okay. Jennifer and Chris will make the right decisions for their characters. The sisters will be happy in the end because this is a Disney movie (do you really think they’d be happy separated against either of their wills?) They’ll be a family regardless of the circumstances. It might not be how you or I would have written it, but that doesn’t make it a bad story nor an invalid one. And we can be content with that for another month. (I have a working hypothesis that we’re all going to be happily surprised by the ending’s larger meaning, once it’s revealed.) Wait, isn’t this just a kid’s movie? Shouldn’t we just suck it up and move on? Elsa may be fictional, but that doesn’t mean she’s not real. She means a lot to a LOT of people because of her very real relationships with herself, her capabilities, her power, and her family. It’s not silly to worry about her arc, nor Frozen 2′s arc as a whole.  Stay Mindful

If you’ve been scouring Tumblr & Instagram all day today in a panic trying to decide how to feel about the Frozen 2 leaks, please get off the echo chamber that is the internet. Eat a chocolate chip cookie, meditate, sit outside with a cup of tea- enter back into the “real world.” It pains me to say this because I’m talking to myself as much as I'm talking to anyone else, but: Frozen is not the determinant of your existence, nor your happiness. It’s one story among SO many, all of which have the potential to form and influence us in various ways.

In closing:

- keep in mind that most of what’s circulating on Tumblr is part of a rumor mill, and not to trust anything that doesn’t come from Disney themselves

- context is key to everything, and until we see the movie, we don’t have the knowledge to make major decisions about how we feel about Frozen 2

- It’s okay to feel worried or scared that the story won’t be what we were expecting- but that doesn’t make it bad, and it doesn’t mean we’re destined to be disappointed

- be mindful of whether you’re putting the characters/movie/franchise on a pedestal of unsustainable adoration. It can be unhealthy and painful to come down from that high.

[mattzerella-sticks]

In the Mind of a Writer - a Sam-centric coda to 15x04 that has Dean/Cas elements

Sam is tormented with strange dreams again. Being a demon and killing his brother was only the start. It seems night after night his mind plays a new, horrifying concept with him and his brother as the starring leads.

However one night he gets a break, and instead of being a part of the action can sit back and watch. Is it better or worse to not be included in the script? Will he learn anything new from the role of audience member? And just exactly what is the reason for these dreams in the first place?

Sam leans against the hallway, hand splayed across the wall and sliding it while he staggered towards his bedroom. Blinks bleary eyes downwards, he tracks his feet in case one decides to trip the other and send him sprawling to the floor. He stumbles when his hand skipped over a space in the hallway, Sam flailing. If it weren’t luck guiding him towards the door knob he would have fully fallen. Instead, shaken, he squeezes both the knob and the door jamb.

“What did I…” Glancing into the empty room, Sam knows exactly where he is. “ Oh .”

Cas’s room. Or what used to be of it. There’s not even a bed left, pieces remain from the night Dean dismantled it with the help of Jack and Whiskey.

He found him there, screwdriver and drink in hand, barely coherent. “What are you doing?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he drawled, stumbling over to a dresser with no drawers. Smashed to bits around his brother. “Had a totally… totally awesomeidea. Turn this into a gym.”

“A gym?” Sam asked, “Dean, we already have a gym.”

“We do?”

“Yeah… you just never go to it,” Sam frowned, cautiously approaching him, “Dean, are you -”

“Then it’ll be something else,” Dean said, swinging wildly. Narrowly dodging the tip of his screwdriver, Sam jumped a safe distance away. “Maybe a memorial room… Yeah, to r’member those we’ve lost.”

Sam liked the idea. “But here?” he continued, “Dean, this is Ca -”

“Why not here Sam?” Dean asked, surprisingly sober like he flipped a switch. Glared at him with cold, dead eyes nestled in puffy, red skin. “S’not like anyone’s using this room.”

Arguing with Dean like this is like taking tackling a demon without an angel blade. In no mood for it, Sam let him be. The curiosity of what drove his brother to demolish their friend’s room didn’t leave. So he texted Cas.

And texted. Again. And called after the fifth unanswered message.

Finally in his room, Sam checks his phone hoping Cas responded. He’s greeted by the mocking checkmark of a read-receipt on his most recent text. “Seriously,” Sam scowls, dropping his phone onto the nightstand, “why won’t anyone tell me anything .”

Dean loves talking about problems when they aren’t his own. Played nursemaid to distract from his own inability to deal with his trauma. While Sam appreciated it, he knew it wouldn’t last forever. Evidenced by the unhealthy habits Dean uses to bide his time between being a good brother.

The two buckets of greasy chicken Dean wolfed down were obvious clues he was not in his right mind.

“At least it’s not booze,” Sam mutters, pulling the thin henley over his head. After the first few nights of drinking, his brother locked the liquor cabinet and instead chose to stuff his face.

Sam walked in on a rare sight, his brother nursing a wicked hangover. Seeing only a bottle and a half of whiskey drank, his hackles rose. “It’s not like you to be taken down so easily.”

“It’s called aging Sam,” he growled, “Apparently I can’t hold my liquor like I used to…”

He sighs, shaking his head clear of the memories of his brother making coffee with the saddest scowl fixed to his face. Sam needs an empty head when he goes to sleep, refusing to allow his subconscious any foothold to create another horrible dream.

Besides the one where a demon version of himself killed his brother, there were countless dreams he had that ended as miserably. Dean, fueled by Amara’s Mark, chopping his head off. Both of them hunting as the very creatures they fought, tearing into innocent victims with no remorse. Last night Sam ripped Dean’s soul from his body so they could both be killing machines dictated by logic. He woke up after the light died in his brother’s eyes while thanking Sam for ‘fixing’ him.

Sam knows if this continues he might go crazy. In one he already was, haunted by visions of Lucifer while standing over his brother’s lifeless body.

“Not tonight,” Sam promises, slipping under his covers, “It won’t happen tonight.” Voice shaky, Sam doubts he can control what he dreams. Any answer to this problem seems out of reach since the lack of sleep muddles his mind. Crosses wires and makes it harder to think. A good night’s rest might help, but there’s no telling if that might be soon.

Not until he closes his eyes. Which Sam does, since he can’t keep them open any longer.

Unfortunately, he dreams.

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

Long grass and weeds overgrown the Bunker’s entrance, vines overtaking the stairwell. From his overhead perspective, Sam sees Cas exit his truck. Unlike when he last saw him, his friend wears a black button-down over a t-shirt, torn jeans, and scuffed boots. Scars criss-cross the exposed skin of his forearms where the sleeves rolled up, and a heavy line was carved from his temple to his cheek. It enhanced the rough edges on full display.

Cas doesn’t enter, instead drifting towards the haphazardly parked car nearby. Sam hadn’t recognized it. Dean’s Impala in such a poor condition he couldn’t put two together. With mud-splattered exterior and dented hood, she looked nothing like the pristine Baby he sat in hours earlier. Interior faring no better, Sam saw discarded wrappers, empty bottles with spill stains and even more mud.

Dean would flip if he knew what had happened to her, Sam thought.

Entranced by the sorry excuse for the Winchester chariot Sam nearly missed Cas heading inside. He followed his friend inside, pausing to stare at the unfamiliar wasteland their home became.

Dim lighting didn’t disguise the dump the Bunker was. Similar wrappers to the ones decorating Baby cascaded down the stairs in a trail that stretched into the depths of the Bunker. With each step Cas took Sam’s dread inched closer and closer towards a mountainous peak and he can identify more in the main room. Like the yellowed mattress thrown on top of the world map or pages upon pages of books crumpled and balled in a piles, competing with the wrappers.

Cas searches for something in the mess. Focusing on his features, however, Sam has the sense he looks for some one .

Trickling sounds from nearby, and the closer he follows Cas the louder it becomes. “Dean?” Cas calls into the emptiness, “Dean? Are you there?”

“Right here!”

Standing in the corner, Dean relieves himself. Backside covered by his robe, Sam sees only the thick pale stream pouring onto the floor in a puddle and flooding under his feet. Nausea grips him tight at his brother’s gross display, especially when he grunts near the end. Shaking the final drops free and finishes peeing.

Dean turns and fully reveals himself.

Sam gasps at the sight of his brother, completely unrecognizable had he not answered Cas’s call. His sandy hair looks more flaxen, long enough to curl atop his shoulders. Unkempt like his crumb-covered beard. Dean only wears the robe, nothing on underneath. Obvious by the blase way he walks over with the stained garment open. A calm expression settles across his face like being naked in front of his best friend shouldn’t bother him. Except, knowing his brother, it should.

“Dean,” Cas starts, a darkness settling over his features, “I… I had heard but… seeing it -”

“Seeing what?” Dean asks, skewing his head to the side in an innocent mirror of his friend. Somehow Cas’s stare hardens further.

“What… happened ?”

Sam wants to know the answer - needs to. The more exposure to this version of his brother, the more he notices. Like the softness of his body exposed by the gentle swaying of the robe. Belly round and extended, muscles hidden by extra cushion. More than usual. And all of it is covered in streaks of dirt and grease and other smears he dare not name, like Dean hadn’t showered for an extended period of time. If he could smell, Sam believes it would knock him to the floor.

He keeps ticking off more boxes that raise Sam’s hackles.

Dean thinks longer than necessary before speaking. His eyes flicker slightly as a thought connects, and an easy smile crosses his face while the green dims to a pale, lifeless moss. “You know what happened, Cas,” he says, dragging a chair forward and collapsing in it. Slamming his gross feet onto the map, nudging the bed slightly, he swipes a half-eaten sandwich from the floor and tears into it. While he chews with his mouth open Sam studies his food. An inkling of recognition tickles him. “Chuck did it,” Dean continues, crumbs spraying, “brought back the Leviathan to wipe away his work and then packed up - onto the next universe. And when they came they did with a vengeance… picked up where they left off…”

Sam remembers. Looking at the sandwich he now notices the grey blobs oozing from the sandwich.

“No,” Cas shakes his head, lips trembling, “No, Dean, that… I know it’s been too long but how could this have happened? This… what happened to you ?”

“Shit, Cas what didn’t happen?” Dean chuckles, “You were there for some of it… Dick running for President. Secret service men with all that extra teeth… Sam dying -”

“Sam? Sam’s dead?”

“Yeah, like a while ago…”

His heart beats loudly in his ears, unsure whether from finding out he’s dead in this nightmare or because of the flippant way Dean mentioned his death.

Cas reacts though. Sobs brokenly, shoulders shuddering like they might collapse. In the next second he shoves the sadness down. “How?”

“Like everyone else we knew,” he shrugs, “We stormed a compound, took down a few of the toothy bastards. Tried to free a few of the captive cattle. Sam was helping this woman, fighting her to get her to budge, but she wouldn’t… and that’s when a Leviathan snuck up and ganked him. Blood… everywhere!” Grey drops fly with how wildly he swings the arm holding his sandwich. “I watched the whole thing, man. Like, ten of ‘em piled on and ate him right there. Nothing left when they finished. After all the fat they were probably in the mood for some lean meat.”

If Sam could vomit he would. Already he imagines the scene as Dean described, feels teeth marking his skin and ripping it from his bones. Maybe that’s why he is nothing more than a silent voice among his family.

“And so you gave up?” Cas asks, “Without Sam you couldn’t go on any longer?”

Dean pouts, tapping his sandwich to his chin. Smearing juices against the beard. “Nah,” he says, “It hurt when I saw it, I think? But y’know what I remember more? All the other people who were watching… doing nothing. Sitting like it didn’t matter… because it didn’t . Not caring because they weren’t able to, man… that’s the dream. It’s awesome . The chick Sam was 'saving' ended up drenched in his blood and she didn’t even scream. After that I guess I reconsidered what I wanted and… it’s not that bad being cattle. Eat as much as I want until one day I get eaten? Turns out I’m more okay with it than I first thought…”

“It’s not okay, Dean,” Cas pleads, closes the distance between them and kneels at his side. Lays his hands over Dean’s thigh, digging into the soft flesh. “Humans were made for more than this. You’re more -”

“Sure,” he scoffs, “And what did we do with all that more ? This is exactly what we deserve -”

“You’re not in your right mind.”

“I feel like I’m thinking clearly for the first time ever. And if I’m not who cares ?”

“I do!” Cas screams, “Because knowing what the Leviathan has done to Sam, has done to you … it fills me with so much anger . You should be just as angry as I am.”

“Anger leads to nothing,” Dean tells Cas with nihilistic wisdom, “Everything leads to nothing . Our story’s over, man. Chuck made his ending. Why should we carry on with the plot if the author doesn’t want to?”

Cas’s expression dips into righteous fury. “We continue for the people we care about, for ourselves. I know Sam is gone Dean but there are others you care about right? Who you love? Don’t you care about yourself ?”

“Maybe once,” he says, crumbling the wrapper into a tiny ball and tossing it at Cas’s face. Laughing, he leans back in his seat and stretches. “But the only thing I care about now is that I’m hungry .” Dean stands, ignoring Cas on his way towards the exit.

“Dean!” Cas calls after him, “You need to keep fighting. I… I need you.”

Pausing at the foot of the stairs, Dean cranes his neck to meet Cas’s gaze. Grinning with acted mirth, Dean says, “Needing people is overrated. I thought I needed Sam… Hell, I thought I needed you . I never needed anyone… love? Fake. You don’t love me and I don’t love you. I never have… you were just there. You were there until you weren't, and that's the same for everyone. We’re all trying to fill a void… the Leviathan found how to exactly do that.”

During his speech Cas’s features shattered into heartbreak, Sam being buffeted by the shards from where he watches.

“Want my advice? Hit up Biggerson’s… since you’re human it’ll be fine. Grab a sandwich and move on .” Dean trudges up the stairs to the door, slam echoing after him.

Physically alone, Cas finally crumbles. He curls into a ball on the floor surrounded by Dean’s filth and garbage. Sam shudders, hit with the heavy-handed symbolism. As a tear slips past Cas’s chin Sam feels a tugging from the side.

Cas’s sob sounds far away. When Sam blinks, his friend looks smaller than he did before. He realizes too late that he is being dragged from the Bunker. Sam fights to stay with Cas, to comfort him. To prop him up, encourage him that there’s still hope. Dean can still be saved.

A voice whispers from behind. “No more happy endings…”

Sam leaves the Bunker. Flying higher in the sky he sees Baby swerving lazily on the road, her frame becoming tinier and tinier. When she’s nothing more than a speck of black against grey, his vision whitens.

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

Sam wakes, gasping against his sheets. Twisting, he sits up and splays his hand across his chest. When his heart beats a hasty rhythm for his fingers, he calms slightly. The more he breathes, the calmer he becomes.

Another nightmare. Dragging his hand across his face, Sam curses the latest hellscape he created for himself. Remembers the broken figures of his brother and best friend. Normally their jagged edges fit together perfectly. Only there, the remains were too incompatible.

They all end the same, tonight’s being no different. Death. Sadness. Hopelessness .

Why his dreams can’t stick to a plot, Sam can’t imagine. If they repeated, after a time Sam could prepare. The spontaneity of their content keeps him on his toes in the worst way possible.

He scratches at his gunshot wound, it irritating him more than usual. Sam yawns and shifts off the bed, moving towards the door.

If he cannot sleep, then he’ll do something else. It’s worked every other time.

Sam doesn’t think about what will happen once he runs out of distractions.

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

Chuck pushes away from the desk, scrubbing his hands down his face and heaving a tired sigh. Glaring at his work, he forcefully shuts the laptop with a thought. “Don’t know what Becky was talking about,” he growls, standing. Pacing across the workroom from the Roadhouse to the Bunker. “Adding Cas never does anything… can’t drive the story where I need it to go…”

He pauses, considering his story from another angle. “Or maybe she was right?” he asks himself, “The Leviathan… weren’t good?”

As soon as it enters his mind Chuck crushes it into ash. Shaking his head, he grins. “They were good, Chuck,” he says, “with all those teeth… how couldn’t they be? But maybe they’re not final draft material…"

Returning to the desk, Chuck opens the laptop. Knuckles cracked, he begins anew. “The perfect ending is in here somewhere…”

[mcww-writing]

Nova

█████████ COMMISSION

FINAL REPORT

2037-06-15

*Please note that some sensitive information has been redacted, in accordance with the Post-Council Security Act of 2037.*

SUMMARY

In its findings, the Commission has concluded that through at first sheer ignorance, then, increasingly, a calculated campaign of repression and control, ███████████ leveraged the developing situation with ███████████████████ to his economic and political advantage. The Commission recommends the death sentence for ██████, and a rapid removal of his cult of personality, and re-education of the populace.

The Commission, however, recognizes the contributions both ██████ and ████████ made to the war effort; the successful defense of █████ and repellant of the ██████’s army are not to be forgotten. The Commission recommends that Premier ████████’s contributions be highlighted instead.

The Commission, furthermore, recommends a more decentralized government to replace the Nova Transition Government currently in place after the specified date in 2040, to prevent the abuses of the ██████ regime from ever happening again.

Lastly, the Commission recommends an immediate cessation of the further development of ██████████ weapons, and the development of a universal ban on their research and use. The Commission recognizes the sovereign right of the ████████ to control itself, and understands its frustration with the use of these new weapons.

By the authority of Acting Premier ████████, on this day, the fifteenth of June, two-thousand thirty-seven, this Commission has completed its report.

The following report and narrative was composed by ██████████████ under order by the Commission for the purposes of the ongoing investigation. Please do not distribute this report.

CHAPTER 1: SOMETHING, SOMEWHERE, IS WRONG.

Dr. Mark Haller (h.c.), First Marshal of the Condominium of Nova and its Protectorates, Councillor 6 (hon.) of the Eternal Council, had enough titles to fill a small dump truck. He wouldn’t let you forget it, either. But like everyone else, he required sleep. At exactly 4:32 AM on the morning of July 6, 2027, however, the long and drawn-out process of his frankly inevitable downfall began with the shrill shriek of a buzzer.

BZZZZZZZZZT!

Mark flopped over in his bed and grabbed his phone. It was an emergency call.

“Hello?” he asked, in a questionably-woken state.

“Mark, it’s Sol.” said a familiar voice in an unfamiliarly-nervous tone.

“Oh?” Mark asked. In this liminal state on the edge of sleep, he had the feeling deep in his stomach that “something, somewhere, is wrong”.

“I’m in Earth Ops right now. There’s been some kind of data breach and it l-”

“What?” Mark had a bad habit of cutting people off.

“…yes, please let me finish. It looks like there’s been some kind of data breach, and it doesn’t look like anything was stolen, but just deleted. It happened during the night some time, but we’re not exactly sure what was deleted,” Sol explained.

“How can’t you all tell what was deleted?” Mark asked, now suddenly very awake.

“The data in question was stored on an LTO tape in cold storage in the datacenter. It was remotely inserted into the drive, erased, then put back. We’re trying to see what was supposed to be stored on that tape, but no one seems to have a good answer for that.”

Mark frowned. Data breaches and hacks weren’t unheard of at all, but they were always small-scale and more apparently obvious. Publishing fake quotes, stealing sensitive information – nothing had ever just been deleted like that before, and never so quietly.

“Alright, you have my attention. I’ll be there in three hours.” Mark said. He hung up the phone and turned on his light, and stuffed himself into the classic three-piece suit that he always insisted on wearing.

His attention turned quickly from the brewing of trouble to the brewing of coffee. He hadn’t taken a single vacation in the past three years. Regrettably.

He quickly stepped out the door, and into his car. As he drove down the road to the spaceport, he stared out the window and admired the planet that he called home.

Most people thought building a base on the planet Mercury was a “terrible and stupid idea”, as Sol called it at the time. But Mark had a strange fascination with the planet, and built it was. Situated in a crater to protect it from extreme temperatures, a giant dome encircled the base, providing a breathable atmosphere. Most people who lived and worked there were humans, so atmospheric content wasn’t much of a concern.

He arrived at the spaceport and strolled out on the tarmac, in view of his ship that could affectionately be called only “rustic”. He had built it himself years prior, and it showed. As compared to most contemporary starships, it was quite, for lack of a better term, “blocky”. The name was haphazardly stenciled across the side: Impulse. Odd. In my experience with him, he was anything but.

Author’s note: my editors have asked me to please refrain from referring to myself in the first person. I asked if they could find anyone else better to write this narrative, and they replied with a begrudging “no”. I tried my best for the first one-and-a-half pages, rest assured. This is my report, after all.

My relationship with Haller? All in due time, dear reader.

Climbing on board, he flipped switches and tapped keys in a furioso of checklists and standardized procedures. If Haller was nothing else, he was at least incredibly litigious. I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if that man had a checklist for brushing his teeth at night.

He passed his ship through the airlock, and took off into the cold Mercurian sky. “Sky” is, of course, a bit of a misnomer for a planet that has little more than a thin exosphere to speak of. Nevertheless, then began the short, three-hour journey to Earth. Not that the Impulse couldn’t make it there in milliseconds – what it lacked in looks, it made up for in speed. Interplanetary speed limits were a big deal back when there was any semblance of a government.

Author’s note: Reader, it is perhaps mean of me to keep tantalizing you with bits of the future of this story. I mean, this report is only meant for a committee, as it is. I wasn’t supposed to write a novel, but what are they going to do about it? There’s barely a government to speak of anymore. But I’m revealing too much. So I’ll reveal some more, and put you at ease: Mark Haller will die. Eventually. How, when, where, and why are details you’ll surely find out later. But die he did. I visited his grave just yesterday. A small plot with an unmarked stone at its head. It’s an ironically humble grave for such a pompous man. I’m getting ahead of myself. So let’s jump back a bit. Allow you to fill me in on Haller’s past, in case you somehow missed all of that during your life.

CHAPTER 2: STARS ARE BORN FROM NOVAS.

On June 18, 2023, ESA satellites detected a small asteroid that had been captured in orbit around the Earth. This was the second time a detection such as that had ever been made. The scientific community was briefly abuzz, but lost interest when the small asteroid deorbited somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean.

Somewhere slightly to the left of the Atlantic Ocean, a young physics student was pacing around his grandparents’ farm in rural Iowa. Something was bothering him – he couldn’t quite remember what.

A bright streak flashed across the sky, red in color. It made an abrupt turn to the left, and then to the ground. Before poor Mark Haller could even figure out what was going on, a large, well, thing – smashed into the ground at an alarmingly high speed.

A tsunami of dirt and pulverized rocks knocked Mark off his feet, and buried him up to his knees. He jerked himself out, and cautiously approached what appeared to be a large, well, thing – sitting in a crater in front of him.

He doubted his sanity when a hatch opened on the side, and out crawled a figure only describable as – well, an angel.

No, really. Large, white wings, white robes, even a golden ring around the head. Her head? Mark wasn’t entirely sure. He had more pressing matters on his mind than gender.

“Hello?” he called in vain, as the creature fell to the ground, suddenly crying.

Mark approached her with the same outstretched hand as he would approach a crying dog. He gave the fallen angel a small pat on the head, and sheepishly said, “There, there!”

The figure made an oddly-human laugh. “You’re interesting,” she said unexpectedly, in a soft voice.

“Oh, I suppose so?” Mark asked, a bit unsure if this was a compliment or not. “So, uh, are you an-”

“What you’d call an alien, yes child.” she interjected.

“Child? Oh, no, I’m actually twenty-one, which for our species is-”

“You are a child compared to me.” She smiled.

“Okayyyyy. Do you – have a name?” Mark asked, feeling knocked far off of his guard.

“Neona.”

“Uh huh. After… neon?” Mark asked, curious.

“Absolutely. Neon is the fifth most common element in the universe, and thusly, I’m fifth in command of the universe,” she said with a sly smile.

“Wait, wh-” Neona cut Mark off.

“SH, quiet. I hear something,” Neona cautioned. “It’s not safe here.”

She drew a small device from her cloak, pressed a button, and Mark instantly passed out.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂ ⁂

Mark began to wake up, and slowly became aware of his surroundings. It was… odd. The walls were a pristine, glowing white. So were the floors. And the ceilings, too. But on the walls were… posters? Band posters. Contemporary band posters. Mark turned around, and noticed a window, offering a dramatic view of what appeared to be outer space.

“Welcome to outer space,” Neona announced, pointing at the window. “You must have a lot of questions. About life, the universe, e-”

“Actually, my main question is what’s up with all these posters?”

Mark thought Neona blushed. Of course, he couldn’t really see. She was covered head to toe (does she even have toes?) in a pristine black cloak, hence the angelic appearance.

“Admittedly, I’ve taken a taboo liking to human culture. These are some mementos I’ve kept from my visits to your planet,” she admitted sheepishly.

“Visits? Come to Earth often, eh? What for?”

Neona’s sheepish smile instantly gave way to a frown that could only be described as “queasy”. “I really do wish I could tell you, child. But I could get in lots of trouble if I did. In fact, I will be already if the others find out you’re her-”

A panel in the wall swung open, and in walked four other “angels”.

“Uh oh,” Neona squeaked.

Mark had no idea what they were saying; to him, the language they spoke was incomprehensable gibberish. There was lots of what sounded like yelling, and one of them started gesticulating wildly at him. He gulped. This went on for a couple of minutes, until they finally stopped, and Neona turned around to open her mouth.

“Mark, I’d like you to meet my, uh, associates. From right to left: Hydrona, Hela, Oxa, and Carba. Together, the five of us form the Eternal Council. I suppose you could call us the “rulers” of the universe, but really, we take a very “hands-off” approach, mostly guiding regional and planetary governments.”

Mark frowned. “So you’re the famed rulers of the universe and yet no one on my planet has ever seen or heard of any of you? Fascinating,” he quipped.

“Oh, don’t be like that. It’s really the, uh, advanced planets we’re concerned about,” Neona admitted.

Mark scoweled.

Hydrona broke the awkward silence that followed in what was supposedly her native language, whispering to the others as if Mark could actually understand them. Neona nodded, stepped forward, and placed her hand on Mark’s forehead.

What followed could only be described as having a vivid fever dream while completely awake. Mark’s eyes rolled back in his head, and the landscape turned dark. A voice spoke:

In the times before, there was no light, and there was no dark. There was nothing. Then from order came chaos.

A single speck of light appeared in the distance.

All of existence was a singularity. The singularity, noting the need for order, split itself in four.

Mark watched as the speck split in four.

“I am gravity”, said the first figure, and the Universe began to take shape.

“I am the strong force,” said the second, and matter was born.

“I am the weak force,” said the third, and the matter began to change.

“I am light”, said the last, and the Universe began to shine.

The four, noting the need for order, combined their powers for the force of creation.

A group of five hooded figures appeared, floating in space.

“You are five, a council Eternal. You shall watch over all of creation. You are guardians and peacekeepers. You will do whatever is necessary to sustain order in existence, and you will not fail,” the four fundamental forces said in unison.

One of the Council spoke. “And of you?”

The forces replied in a booming unison. “We do not exist as you do. You exist in the Universe. We ARE the Universe.”

The four forces, their immediate job done, disappeared in a colossal wave of energy, and the Universe began to expand outward.

Mark was thrown backwards as an explosion of light screamed across the cosmos.

For eons more the Council ruled over time and space. But the Universe grew too large. Noting the need for order, the five harvested the materials for life, and created their own.

A group of small creatures stood on a riverbank, watching the sky intently.

“You will act in our image and our interest, and assist us in ruling over all of creation,” the Council spoke in unison. The Universe grew and life developed. The Council, as promised, did their job. All was well.

Mark opened his eyes, and woke up.

CHAPTER 3: FALLING STAR

An hour later, the Impulse skidded to a stop on the runway of the Nova Earth Operations Center. NEO, as the “complex” was affectionately called, was Nova’s home on Earth. This “home” also happened to be an unfathomably-large floating fortress docked just off the coast of Bermuda. It was no ship – more like the biggest analogue to an oil rig ever created. It was the size of a very small, crowded city – and that it was.

Many countries, even those who joined Nova, did not want the base built in their borders. Mark also didn’t want to choose favorites, so he went for a compromise: a giant floating city. Bermuda was happy to have it dock there, so there it remained. The whole thing was basically an entire military base condensed into one staggeringly-large vessel. It had everything: a bank, a hair salon, thermonuclear weapons, a bowling alley – you know, the usual.

In all seriousness, Nova enjoyed a very respected position by every single country on Earth, for a good reason: no one wanted to pick a fight with a force that had enough firepower to obliterate every planet in the star system in an instant. Even terrorist groups played nice.

Mark strode into the concourse, and went through security. He could opt out, but he thought it wouldn’t be fair. He was quite humble at that point in time. Quite genuine. He ascended the building up to the top floor, where his office was. Expecting to get a few minutes alone, he was surprised to walk into his office to find Sol and Neona standing inside. Sol was scowling.

“Neona has just informed me that the Council will be handling the data breach investigation, for… whatever reason,” she said, with an air of mild annoyance.

“...Oh?” Mark asked, a bit caught off guard. “We don’t usually get this kind of request,” he added.

“It’s unfortunately not a request. It’s not my decision, either; Hydrona told me to let you both know that we’ll be handling it from here.”

Mark smiled cheerfully. “That’s okay! Have a good rest of your day then.”

“You do the same!” said Neona, and she left the room.

Sol chuckled. “You’re going to do some investigating, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely. I know it’s none of our business, but I can’t pass up a mystery like this! If they’re taking it over from here, it must be really important. I don’t want to miss out on the fun.”

Sol laughed again, then her smile flipped to a frown. “Does it rub you the wrong way at all that they’re keeping us in the dark on this?”

Mark stroked his bare chin. “Not really. I’d think they have a good reason.”

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Sol said, and left Mark’s office, leaving him alone in the room.

He frowned, got out of his chair, and paced around. He could tell that something, somewhere, was wrong. But that could wait. He had a few hours of prep time before the Earth Planetary Assembly met.

Reader, it may be pertinent at this point to outline the structure of Nova’s operations. It goes (well, went) a little something like this:

At the top of the chain of command was Mark Haller, Marshal of Nova. He acted at the time like a President of sorts.

In charge of operations and policy decisions was the Supreme Assembly. Each member planet of Nova got one representative, as did a couple of groups internal to Nova. Of course, the Supreme Assembly, and even Mark himself, all answered to the Eternal Council.

Each member planet of Nova had its own Planetary Assembly, too. Earth’s consisted of one representative from each member state.

The Justice Department handled the judicial branch of government, and acted as a court subservient to the Eternal Courts that provided judicial services to the universe as a whole.

That just about sums it up, wildly oversimplifying in the process. Earth’s Assembly was scheduled to meet that day.

At that point in time, Nova had 192 member states, leaving just 11 UN-recognized countries that were not a part of it, all of them war-torn Middle Eastern countries.

Oh, right, the UN. The original one collapsed in 2032. It was ugly. The new UN, created after that, was as close to what conspiracy theorists would call a “new world order.” As opposed to the UN of before, this one actually had teeth: legal standing and an army. Those war-torn Middle Eastern countries I mentioned? They were, to put it tactlessly, turned to glass after they refused to cooperate after the great global unrest following the first UN’s collapse.

Anyway, it was time to get ready for the meeting.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂ ⁂

“Good morning, all, and welcome to today’s meeting of the Earth Planetary Assembly. Glad to see you all here. Let’s get started,” Mark said, shuffling some papers around.

“Before we get started, I’ll open up the floor for a few minutes for questions, comments, and concerns. Who wants a microphone?” Mark asked. The delegate from the Union of Sovereign States picked up a mic.

“My friend, I would like to relay the concerns our scientists have of your organization’s – how do I say – space junk problem. Just yesterday, yet another one of your satellites crashed in Siberia, just kilometers away from a village!” Delegate Tarasovich said fiercely.

Mark had heard a few complaints from the USS about satellites falling. He opened his mouth to respond, but Tarasovich continued:

“Yesterday’s craft was almost ten times bigger than any others we’ve seen, and this one even had the Council’s blasted name written on it!”

This immediately grabbed Mark’s attention. What was a Council satellite doing swinging around Earth? The plot thickened.

“My apologies, Delegate Tarasovich; we’ll discuss that later,” Mark said, before continuing on.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂ ⁂

Soon after the meeting adjourned without incident later that day, Mark stopped by Tarasovich’s office, and knocked on his door. He came in, and Tarasovich was surprised to see the troubled look on Haller’s face.

“Something troubling you, Marshal?”

“Sort of. I think some funny business is going on with the Council, actually. I had no idea one of their satellites crashed in Russia, either. Would your administration mind if we flew out there to take a peek? And clean up the damage, of course.”

“Not at all, and thank you for the cleanup effort.”

⁂ ⁂ ⁂ ⁂

Not two hours later, Mark and Sol were on-board the Impulse, touching down in the remote forest in Siberia where the satellite had supposedly crashed. Powdery snow filled the air as the ship drifted gently onto the ground. Bundled up in coats, Mark and Sol clambered down the ladder and onto the ground.

Peering around, they immediately noticed a large gash in the treeline up ahead. Both tree and snow were shoved violently out of the way. The two cautiously made their way over to the damage; the deep snow made it slow-going. Eventually, they reached the treeline and kept going into the interior of the forest.

Up ahead was a large mound of dirt, with a large metal thing resting in front of it. The satellite.

It was a gray cylinder, dulled and charred by its fiery reentry. It looked to have previously had antennas, which had been shorn off by the crash. There was an identifier on the side: Eternal Council Explorer 42069. Interesting.

Mark pulled out his phone, and opened the Intergalactic Vehicle Registry, the central database of all registered vehicles in the inhabited universe. He entered the registration number from the satellite.

AUTHORIZATION REQUIRED.

He entered his authorization password.

AUTHORIZATION NOT ACCEPTED. TIER 1 ACCESS REQUIRED.

He frowned. Tier 1 access was reserved for the Council; his was only Tier 2. But he had never encountered something that locked even him out before.

“Trouble?” Sol asked.

“It says I’m unauthorized,” Mark replied. His frown deepened, and he called Neona.

“Hey, it’s Mark. Can you give me a temporary tier 1 access code? A satellite crashed on Earth, and I’m trying to identify it in the registration database, but I’m locked out.”

Silence.

“Hello?”

“We’ll come take care of it. Leave it alone,” Neona finally replied.

Mark’s frown turned to an annoyed scowl. “What’s gotten into you all this week? This is my jurisdiction, just give me the code so I-”

A different voice cut into the line. “This is Hydrona. You will do as we say. Leave it alone and we’ll take care of it. Is that understood?”

Silence.

“Is that understood?”

“Fine,” Mark said, and he hung up, and was immediately startled by a loud bang. He whipped around to see that Sol had kicked off a loose panel on the side of the satellite, exposing the computer within. She began prodding at the terminals with her scan tool, and eventually was able to connect to the console.

“Nice work! Now let me take it from here,” Mark said gleefully, as he started typing. Sol frowned.

“It’s just spitting gibberish onto the screen. I think it may be fried,” Mark said, defeated. Sol peered over.

“Well, that’s a hexadecimal code it’s spitting out. I think it’s a memory address. I can check and see what’s stored there.”

She tapped some keys, and a very different string came up on the screen:

63°58′39″ S 61°48′20″ W.

Coordinates.

The two looked at each other. “I suppose we’re going on a trip then,” Mark said. His frown finally turned to a smile.

Author’s note: The commission has kindly asked me to stop writing such ornate prose, and to write what I assume would be a dry technical report instead. I thanked them for this kind compliment of my writing skills, and reminded them whose report this is. Never mind that I’m on their payroll. Reader, you are no doubt wondering where and/or what the turning point is of this story. Rest assured, for the plot device you’re waiting for is coming shortly. But it’s just that: a plot device. The real turning point happened long ago.

[mamabearcat]

Fairytail Cafe

Sooo, I was feeling inspired by the cute Fairytail merch released by Charaum Cafe, and decided to write something cute and fluffy. And then I wrote this. Not what I was expecting. I really don’t understand my brain sometimes. First course is self indulgent NaLu romantic angst, with a hot NaLu lemon souffle on the menu for dessert.

This will be a two shot, the next part will be available on my AO3, and I’ll post the link when I’m done. WARNING: this fanfic includes mention of sexual assault. If this is triggering for you, please don’t read. 

“Strawberry dessert for Table 8 Mira!” called out Erza, flicking her dark red pigtails over her shoulder. Mira was in her element at her post behind the dessert bar, already plating up, so Erza stayed for a moment to wait, taking a moment to look back at the café. 

It was the tail end of the controlled chaos that was the lunchtime rush, the buzz of happy chatting customers only broken by the occasional clink of cutlery on china. Most of the customers had already been served their meals and were happily indulging in the sweet desserts and pretty drinks that the café was famous for. Erza smiled the satisfied smile of a person almost finished a job well done. They only had about twenty minutes left of their shift before Team Shadowgear and Gajeel and Lily would arrive to take on the afternoon shift, and she was eager to get home to Fairy Hills and soak in the open-air bath. Stockings and heels may be pretty, but after working a busy six-hour shift waiting on tables, her feet ached. 

When Master had said he’d finalised a deal with a local theme café to have a Fairytail month, where each team took shifts as wait staff, none of them had realised just how popular it would be. The café was booked out for the next three weeks, and Max had gone to town designing merchandise – coffee mugs, stickers, acrylic standees, keyrings – but they all seemed to be selling. Erza was particularly proud of the fact that her keyrings had already sold out. 

Their team seemed to be very popular so far, with Erza and Lucy as waitresses, Happy and Carla as drinks waiters, Natsu as a busboy, Gray on drinks and Wendy on desserts. She had been rostered on desserts the first day, and admittedly that had not gone well; Wendy possessed much more self-control around sweets than she did. And they were all very grateful that the usual kitchen staff took care of the cooked meals – she was sure Natsu being left to his own devices in a kitchen would result in catastrophe. 

Poor Wendy had called in sick with a cold today, with Carla staying home too to, to keep an eye on her. They were lucky that Mira had happily taken her shift; her experience behind the bar at Fairytail made her a valuable ally on a job like this. 

“There, all done”, said Mira, adding a sprig of mint as a garnish. Erza drooled a little at the plate decorated with strawberry coulis with three different strawberry themed desserts, including cheesecake. 

“No eating until you’re on break Erza”, she teased, handing over the finished plate. 

“I know”, Erza grumbled, carefully picking up the plate and placing it on her tray, ready to head back out into the café. 

Gray grinned slyly at her, finishing off another icy drink order, frosting the top of the glass carefully. 

“I’ve never known you to be so restrained around cheesecake Erza. Much better than you were the first day.” He handed the drink to Happy, who was ready to zoom it over to the waiting customer. 

“Yeah, poor Erza” teased Happy, an annoying grin on his face. “Having to look at cheesecake all day and not allowed to eat any! I bet there’ll be none left for you!” Happy zoomed out of Erza’s attack range quickly, taking the frosted drink with him. He might be cheeky, but he wasn’t stupid. 

“Don’t worry”, whispered Mira behind her hand, “I’ve saved one for you”. She winked as Erza headed back out on to the floor, dessert held high on a tray so she wouldn’t be tempted, a serene smile on her face as a waft of strawberry scent from the dessert floated down to her. 

Natsu grumped his way around, picking up and stacking empty plates on his trolley. He really didn’t like this job. He hated his uniform, black shoes, pants, apron and vest over a white shirt. At least they let him keep his scarf. He missed his usual clothes, not only because they were comfortable, but this uniform wasn’t flameproof like his trademark pants and jacket, so he had to be careful with his magic. It made him feel agitated and antsy. He couldn’t even let off a little steam fighting anyone, and he was stuck inside for hours, picking up after messy customers when they left. 

But that wasn’t the worst of it. He kept one eye on Lucy at all times as he picked up the dirty dishes and glasses. That uniform they had her in was drawing every pervert’s eyes in the place to her; thigh high white beribboned stockings and a tiny strapless black dress with an even tinier apron. It was so short she couldn’t even bend down in the thing, but had to bob down, bending her knees a little to place plates on the tables. Watching all the leering looks and crass comments about his partner had him on edge and after five straight days of it, he was almost at his limit. 

He could tell Lucy was uncomfortable, and he’d spoken to her about it last night when he’d walked her home, but she’d brushed off his concerns, saying it was probably all in good fun. It didn’t seem like she was having fun though. Her smile this week didn’t have its usual brilliance, and he could tell she was dreading coming into work here now. Even though she said she didn’t want to say anything to Gramps about it, after today, he definitely would. 

For instance, those pricks on Table 5 had been leering at her every lunchtime this week, and he’d been watching them get more and more blatant, their comments more personal, especially that prick in the grey pinstriped suit. The table was up the back of the café, a booth with high sides, and they obviously thought they could get away with it. 

These bastards needed to be taught how to be respectful, and he was pretty sure his fist in their face would do the job – he’d be happy to do it. He growled under his breath, watching the men on the table cackle as she approached with their lunch, her tray full of hot coffee. As he heard what they were saying, the air around him shimmered with heat, and his low rumbling growl startled the customers around him. Fuck, this was the last straw. He looked around for Erza, knowing if he went over all by himself, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself punching the sick leer off that prick’s face. This was gonna end now! 

Lucy was not having a good day. It was her fifth lunchtime shift as a waitress, and the same table of guys was back again. They were all business men, dressed in suits, and they seemed to be here every lunch time, and asked for her by name whenever she was working. To put it bluntly, they were a little more ‘handsy’ than she liked, and it was creeping her out. She didn’t mind smiling and flirting a little, understood it was part of the job, but they were taking it too far. 

And this uniform she was wearing didn’t help. She was very comfortable with her body, and had no problem showing it off thank you very much, but this was a little too much, even for her. They had all given their measurements to Master before the uniforms were ordered, but hers was more than a little on the small side, and she had a feeling that was entirely his fault, dirty old man. 

One guy in particular on that table had her feeling very unsure of herself. He was tall and muscular, imposing, his black hair slicked back, his fingers covered in gold rings. His appearance was always impeccable, a crisp snow-white shirt under a dark grey pinstriped suit. He had the air of someone who always got what he wanted, and if it wasn’t given freely, he took it. He reminded her of some of her father’s business associates, and just looking at him made her skin crawl. 

The first day, he had stared at her blatantly, not even trying to hide the leering grin as he took in the soft skin exposed by her uniform. She had to resist using her hands to cover herself; she was Lucy Heartfilia, a mage of Fairytail, and she would not let anyone make her feel small. She had looked him straight back in the eye, her chin pushed out defiantly; that usually worked when she caught someone perving at her on a job, but this man was different. He seemed to take it as a personal challenge. 

Now every day he had grown more bold, touches on her hand and arm as she placed plates on the table, whispering his order to force her to lean forward a little so she could hear, saying things about her soft skin, her long legs, her golden hair. She could feel his eyes on her even as she waited on the other tables, and it made her feel vaguely dirtied, even though she had done nothing wrong. His friends seemed to encourage him, laughing yesterday when he had got a small squeak out of her when his hand had brushed the bare skin of her thigh in between her short skirt and thigh high stockings. 

She had almost decided to talk to Master about it but had decided against it. They only had two more days of this lunchtime shift left, and then they would be swapping to breakfasts. She could stick it out for two more days. And besides, they were in a crowded café, and Natsu was here with her. Nothing really bad could happen. 

She could feel Natsu’s eyes watching her as she carried the tray full of coffee over to the table of businessmen. His eyes made her feel the opposite of that creep’s. They were full of warmth and support. When he had spoken to her last night about his concerns, it was the happiest she had felt all week, knowing he was watching out for her. She held her head high as she approached the table of business men warily, a fake grin plastered on her face. This was their last order for the day, and then she wouldn’t have to come near their table again. And maybe they wouldn’t even be here tomorrow, seeing it was the weekend. This might be the last time she ever had to see him. She could do this. 

“A tall black for you, sir…”, she began, putting the first cup down, trying to stay as far out of hands reach as possible. The man in the pin-striped suit was behind her, and she wanted to get through this as fast as possible. She hadn’t counted on him grabbing her around the waist and pulling her sideways onto his lap, her back towards the rest of the cafe. 

“So, when do you get off work, sweet cheeks?” he said, one hand gripping her upper thigh, the other running lightly up the side of her breast and latching on to her upper arm. She gasped, struggling to get off his lap, while balancing a tray full of hot coffee in her hands. 

“Let go of me you creep!” she hissed, and was mortified when he pulled her closer, feeling his hard erection pushing up underneath the short skirt of her maid’s uniform. She balanced the tray on the edge of the table, holding it steady with one hand as she struggled to push the hand squeezing her thigh away with the other. 

“Don’t be so coy baby”, he breathed into her ear, as the other men on the table laughed. “You’ve been smiling at me all week, flaunting those tits and those creamy thighs of yours. How about we all meet up after work tonight. And wear your uniform. I’m sure we could come up with other services you could provide.” 

Lucy felt sick. Although she was pretty strong, she was having trouble getting out of this guy’s grasp, and the fact that his friends were laughing about her predicament made her feel even more unsafe. She didn’t want to cause a scene by using her magic. Her zodiac spirits were not known for their sense of restraint, and she didn’t want to damage the place, not when Fairytail was booked on a job here for the next three weeks. It was a chance for everyone in the guild to be doing well-paid safe work, and she didn’t want to jeopardise that. 

She could feel her keys pulsing against her hip, Loke’s especially, and she pushed back against his gate with every ounce of will she could. She could call Natsu or Erza over, but they would probably be worse than Loke. If she diffused the situation peacefully, there’d be no property damage, and no one from Fairytail would lose out. She tried speaking in a loud firm voice. 

“Please”, she said, pushing at his hand again, “I’m not enjoying this. I don’t feel comfortable when you touch me like that. I want you to let me go.” 

“Oh yeah baby?” he whispered with a leer, his mouth so close that his lips touched her neck. “What if I touched you like this?” She shuddered in revulsion as his hand suddenly slid under her skirt, and she let go of the tray, the hot coffee spilling all over her white stockings, burning her skin. She desperately tried to shift herself away from him, but his grasp on her upper arm was bruising, and he’d wrapped his legs around her calves, locking her in place. 

She felt bile rise up in her throat, her heart beating double time as she twisted, trying to get away from those groping fingers that had now slipped in the side of her panties. She wanted to Lucy kick him into oblivion, safe restaurant work be damned, but when his fingers groped and pushed in a place that no man had ever touched before, she froze. “Let me go”, she whimpered. 

A sudden aura of heat surrounded them. Lucy mentally sighed in relief. She had her back to whatever had the rest of the table gasping in sudden fear, but she would recognise that warmth anywhere. 

“Is there a problem here?” a stern female voice asked. 

Lucy was pushed unceremoniously to the hard wooden floor, half empty coffee cups clattering and breaking around her, and Natsu was instantly at her side. Lucy could feel heated rage pouring off him and she smelled a faint scent of singed cotton over the spilt coffee. She was amazed that he was actually keeping level headed enough to not be tearing the restaurant apart. 

He touched her arm gently. “Are you okay Luce?” his voice gravelly with barely controlled anger. She nodded, keeping her head down, and he helped her to her feet. 

“Natsu, take Lucy out to the kitchen and make sure she’s alright”, said Erza, her voice steely. “I’m just going to have a chat to these customers about Fairytail’s policies regarding respect of customer service personnel.” There was a bright flash of a summoning circle as she requipped into her Hearts Cruz armour. 

Natsu put one arm around Lucy’s shoulders and steered her around the tables full of customers craning their necks trying to work out what was going on, towards the kitchen. He paused for a moment to let the rest of the team know what had happened, his arm still curved protectively around her. 

Lucy’s head hung down, keeping her gaze on Natsu’s black shoes. It was so weird seeing him in lace up shoes. She wondered vaguely if they hurt his feet. The crackling sound of ice magic underpinned Natsu’s continual low growl as he told them his version of what had happened; Gray was obviously upset also. 

“Natsu, take her home. Team Shadowgear will be here any minute for the next shift, we can manage until then” Mira said softly. When Lucy looked up and began to protest, Mira came out from behind the bar to hug her gently. 

“Sweetheart it’s okay. I want you to go home, we can handle things here. Natsu will stay with you if that’s what you want, to make sure you feel safe.” 

Lucy’s brown eyes filled with tears, and her bottom lip trembled a little. “I’m sorry to cause such a bother Mira. I thought I could handle them, we were only on this shift for two more days. I didn’t expect any of them to get so…” She could see Gray and Happy looking at her in concern, and she suddenly wanted to be anywhere but here. 

Mira smiled sadly. “Please don’t apologise. No one should expect that.” All five of them looked over towards the booth, where Erza, still wearing her armour, was leaning aggressively over the table, her gauntleted hands on her hips. They could hear a faint whimpering coming from the man who had molested Lucy, and Natsu suddenly sniggered. 

“Erza sure has a good imagination. I don’t think it’s even physically possible for a dick to do that.” 

“Oh my”, Mira smiled behind her hand. “I’d better go check on things to make sure she doesn’t take it too far. I’ll get the owner and Master down here straight away and we’ll sort this out. Take her home Natsu.” 

Natsu curled his arm around Lucy again. “Tell Master I’m happy to talk to him about what happened. I heard every single thing that sick fucker said today, and all the stuff he’s been saying earlier in the week.” Lucy shuddered against him, and he looked at her anxiously. They headed out through the kitchen to the staff entrance for the short walk back to Lucy’s apartment. 

Lucy was silent for the whole walk back, and it had Natsu unsettled. Usually when they walked, she was full of chatter, and though he didn’t always listen to every single word she said, he liked it. It was a friendly happy noise, one of the things that made up Lucy. She was quiet sometimes, but that was usually when she was thinking, sitting at her desk to write, and it didn’t have the same feel that this silence did. She still smelt of fear and panic. Even though he’d heard what was being said, he hadn’t been able to see exactly what was going on as Lucy’s back had been to him while he was looking for Erza. The words and the way the bastard had pulled her onto his lap and gripped her arm were bad enough. He wished he hadn’t restrained himself and had broken his nose. It would have made him feel a whole lot better, even though it would have caused trouble. They walked up the stairs and stopped in front of her door. 

“Lucy, do you want me to stay? If you’d rather be alone, I’d be happy to…” 

“I don’t want you to go”, said Lucy in a quiet flat voice. She got out her door key with trembling fingers, trying to make it fit in the lock, and startled when he took the key and opened the door himself for her. As soon as the door was closed behind them, Loke appeared in a bright flash of magic, his face frantic. 

“Lucy, why wouldn’t you let me through! I could have taken him out!” 

“Loke”, Lucy said softly, “I wasn’t sure you or the others would have been able to restrain yourselves; I could feel how angry you were.” She sighed, her eyes downward, avoiding Loke’s gaze. “Fairytail is working there for the next three weeks. It’s safe work for everyone, and it’s well paid. I didn’t want to take that away from everyone if we damaged the restaurant.” 

“Why on earth would that matter!?” said Loke, his tone angry. “It’s our purpose to protect you, our master, from all harm. What he did was…” Loke swallowed, pacing agitatedly around the coffee table. “Why wouldn’t you let us help you?” 

Until then, Natsu had been standing in the background, but listening to the conversation, he realised situation was a lot worse than he thought. The rage that had dulled to a dull simmer began to rise again, heat rolling off him. 

“Loke”, he rumbled, his voice dark with anger, “get your ass down there to the café. Mira was gonna call Gramps. I want you to tell him everything that happened. Every single thing that prick did, every time his filthy hands touched her.” At his words Lucy whimpered, and he smelt the tang of her tears. 

Loke looked back at Lucy uncertainly, before turning back to Natsu. “You promise you’ll take care of her?” 

“I promise. You know she’ll be safe with me.” 

Loke nodded, then disappeared in a shower of golden light. As soon as he was gone, Lucy’s legs folded under her, and she crumpled to the floor, sitting like a puppet with cut strings. After hesitating a moment, Natsu picked her up gently, and carried her over to the sofa, pulling away after placing her down. Her hands clutched at him. 

“I don’t want you to go”, she said in he same flat voice as before. Natsu nodded and sat beside her, his fists clenched, close by but not touching her. He wanted to hug her so badly, push away the stench of her fear combined with the scent of that bastard, and cover her with his own scent, but what he wanted wasn’t important right now. 

“I’m sorry”, said Lucy in a small voice. 

“Lucy”, he rumbled, “there is nothing at all that you need to apologise for. Nothing!” 

“I should have listened to you. Yesterday. When you said you wanted to tell Gramps. I thought about it, but I didn’t want to cause any trouble. I didn’t think he would try anything like that.” She looked up suddenly, her eyes wide with fear. 

“Oh gods Natsu, what if he… what if he finds out where I live? What if he followed me home? I couldn’t… I couldn’t bear…” Fat tears began to roll down her cheeks, her bottom lip trembling, and Natsu couldn’t stand it any longer. 

“Lucy, can I hug you? Please?” Lucy scooted over towards him, her arms open, and he picked her up and put her in his lap, tucking her head under his chin and wrapping his arms around her tightly. She curled herself up into a ball and began sobbing. He rocked her gently, trying to calm her. 

“It’s okay Luce, it’s okay. You’re safe here with me. I won’t let him near you again. If I even see him near you, I’ll incinerate him. You don’t have ta worry.” Lucy burrowed her face into his chest, her hot tears wetting is shirt, as he continued to rock her. All his protective feelings were roused, the urge to protect and soothe his precious girl, his partner and friend that he had gradually come to care for deeply, and a deep rumbling vibrated in his chest. He wished he had the courage to tell Lucy exactly how he felt about her, but this was not the time. For now, this was enough. 

“Natsu, are you purring?” whispered Lucy, her voice a little broken still from sobbing so hard. 

“Uh, yeah?” he said, feeling a little embarrassed. He had never made this sound when holding her before, not when she was awake, anyway. It was a private sound, one reserved for comforting a mate, and he wasn’t sure if he was ready to have that conversation with her. 

“I like it”, she whispered, snuggling her face into his chest. The rumbling sound became louder, and she giggled a little, as Natsu rubbed his cheek into her hair, both of them in no hurry to move.

[note-katha]

Chapter Two: The Five Circles and The Four Rings

Welcome back! It’s time for...chapter two, right? Right. Okay, let me find my page again, let’s see.

There was a long silence….ah, no that’s too far ahead. We’re not ready for that yet, or at least you probably aren't.

Here’s chapter two! Let me tell you, this chapter is going to be filled with information. Classes and more classes and a few people that I recommend you take a moment to burn into your memory. Not literally though, I should point out. I can’t afford another literalism lawsuit. Well, let’s move on. We have a fresh pot of tea and an enthralling chapter to get too!

As entrancing as orientation can be, especially for new students, we, unfortunately, have to cut through all the chatter to focus! We’ll pick up right about here, where the professors smartly split the group into Witches and Nevermore-originating students. It’s just for ease of communication, I’m sure you understand, yes? There’s such a variety of different material to cover that it’s the only way they’d be able to get everything done.

We haven’t even gotten to the Rings!

Professor Maaya took the group not too far away, leaving Dr. Avali to deal with the Nevermore kids. Maaya, unlike Avali, was endlessly rational, a benefit when it came to describing magic to a few scores of people that hadn’t known magic existed until now.

“Shall we begin?” She asked with a warm smile. The professor turned to trace out the Five Circles of Magic in the air, illuminating it in Energy-based magic. Ah, you might want to see it, I’m sure my explanation wasn’t the most helpful, huh?

Here, hand me that paper, would you? I have a pen.

There we go! I haven’t been drawing this symbol for years to be bad at it. Now you have something to refer to while I keep going.

“The Five Circles of Magic are the most basic concept that as Witches, you all must understand,” Maaya explained. “The Fifth Circle is the most common, containing the spheres of Energy, Nature, Voice, Time, and Space. I’m sure most of you here are attuned to the Fifth Circle. I, myself, am an Energy Witch.”

Ardis and Jules shared a look, one that went “oh, that makes sense”. Ardis and Jules were both separately mildly relieved to know they’d have someone at least somewhat similar to them nearby. Aw, that’s so adorable, isn’t it?

As she spoke, the sigil lit up, starting at the very top and moving around in a clockwise pattern. Yes, this order is important, make a note of it.

“The Fourth Circle of Magic is less common but very important. The Fourth Circle contains the four basic elements, Wind, Fire, Earth, and Water.” The pattern repeated, showing where each one was placed with Wind at the top and Earth at the bottom. “While some countries choose to replace one or two of the elements with others which they feel works best, Evenfall has chosen to follow the Western Arcane theory for the Five Circles.”

She nodded to herself, eyeing the group to see if anyone was lost. No one was tired, though that was rather due to her energy spell currently covering the students. They’d sleep well tonight, luckily.

“Alright, moving onto the Third Circle of Magic, I hope you’re paying attention!” She clapped her hands together with a brilliant grin. Oh, right, did I forget to mention that Professor Suli Maaya was one of those kinds of people. The type that has a switch to flip and suddenly be a disconcerting vibrant (and mildly aggressive) person. “The Third Circle contains, from the top, Mind, Soul, and Emotion! This here is a very dangerous circle, as it relates to altering a person’s self but it’s not necessarily something to be feared,” she adds as a reassurance, “And Third Circle attunement is quite rare.”

Well, I hope that wasn’t too much for you, because we have a little more to go before we can get back into the fun stuff.

“Finally, the Second Circle of Magic, Creation and Destruction. This is the rarest and technically power circle to be a part of.” Professor Maaya scanned the group. Kal squirmed a bit, she was feeling guilty for some odd reason. It’s good to be unique! I would imagine she knew that but now, but she’s an odd one. “I want to preface one very important thing before I ask for questions,” Maaya said, “Despite how it may appear, you are all equal in power and strength. The Inner Circles often appear more powerful but are far more difficult to ever truly use. The Outer Circles may seem limited or small but they will provide you with undeniable abilities and skills. At Evenfall, we want everyone to thrive together and work as a group to hone your powers. Strength comes in multiples not singles.”

Oh my, that was quite cheesy. I told her once she should probably change that line, but it’s managed to make an impact every year. Judging by the baited breathes and silence, it worked once again!

“Any questions?”

There was a long silence, people don’t figure out things that quickly.

Fortunately, something did break the silence.

“Magic...MAGIC ISN’T REAL!” Someone unknown screamed from the back of the group. She’s one of those people I mentioned to remember. Her name is Mira and you’ll be hearing that statement and a variety of variations from her quite often. At least it broke the silence, sending the group into a crowd of laughter.

Kal bit her lip, unconfident. Originally, she was inclined to agree with Mira, but now? She was more unsure if she was capable of surviving at a school like this. Which, is absurd. She’s a main character! Well, she doesn’t know that, but that doesn’t make it not true. It looks like we’ll have to wait for the character development for the rest.

Someone raised their hand for a question, “What about the First Circle of Magic?”

All the energy seemed to drain as a quite deadly serious expression was now on Maaya’s face, “The First Circle of Magic is dangerous, so I beg you, please, do not look into it.”

“Isn’t that...just gonna encourage people to look into it?” Juli whispered quietly. These three were, in fact, the exact type to look into it.

“You could lose your life by doing so.”

“....Nevermind.”

There was far more to do in terms of “beginning”, but it was decided many years ago to place those in the first few days of classes.

All students being required to take their respective Circle Magic class gave a guaranteed spot for students to finish the final steps that would truly allow them to step into the world of Nevermore and Everless.

And allow those scared to run away. Don’t tell anyone I said that, I already got in trouble enough about it before, I would rather remain on good terms with the school.

Anyways, by the unfortunate thing called “organization”, all our wonderful students are all in separate classes.

Well, Kal was guaranteed to be separated but Ardis and Jules wound up in separate classes. Quite tragic, really.

Well, who’s first? Well, we started with Kal first so why not Ardis? He’s in for some, how would I put it, interesting company.

Ardis was humming lightly, as he tends to do, as he entered his class. He didn’t recognize anyone, which makes sense, Ardis you haven’t met anyone yet. Though, that’s probably because he’s in that dorm. A mostly empty place which people rarely actually lived in.

His luck was only evident of his main character status, don’t worry. He took a seat near the front of the class, hoping to be left mostly alone. He wanted to learn! Which, well, he hopefully will at Evenfall. That’s the point of college, isn’t it?

However, as unfortunate is it is for him, there was someone who recognized him.

“Hey, is this seat taken?” The voice of an obnoxiously flirtatious voice called out. Ardis glanced to his side, only to see Mary Sue, his suitemate.

“No?” Ardis answered quite unconfidently. Ardis wasn’t sure if he was relieved to see a familiar face or off-put by the girl’s odd behavior. He was fairly certain that getting involved with someone with a weird name like “Mary Sue” wouldn’t be a very good idea. Though, let me be honest, he’ll be doing far more than she will.

“Hey!” Mary Sue hissed, glaring as she looked around. “Who said that?”

“Who said what?” Ardis asked.

“That, uh,” she stopped. “Whatever it doesn’t matter, it’s just part of my fantastic destiny probably.” Oh dear, I think she can hear us. That shouldn’t be happening.

That’s quite a problem, but it doesn’t matter. We don’t see that much of her! So we can move onto discussing what happens during class. Personally, the Circle classes are always delightful to teach. They’re pass/fail classes and unless you miss all the classes or skip the final, you’ll pass. It’s education on how to use your magic, most students aren't inclined to miss the class.

Mary Sue plopped down with a huff, but caught Ardis’s confused staring.

“I’m sorry, uh, whatever you’re named, I’m not interested,” she said with a weird smile.

Ardis cocked his head to the side, very innocent, “What?”

“I’m not interested in you, so don’t even try.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I mean that look you’re giving me!” Mary Sue laughed. “You have something to say, right?”

“I was going to ask if you needed stomach medicine, you had a weird expression,” Ardis said simply. Ah, that’s what I love about this kid. Blunt and innocent, it’s a very fun combination to see. Especially now that that Mary Sue girl’s eye is twitching. Let’s hope that doesn’t become a habit.

“I don’t.”

Ardis gave a nod, finally being able to focus on his own stuff again. A delightful set of pens and paper to take notes with. Oh yes, he’s one of those people. He likely spent a few hours debating which of his colorful stationery he’d bring along.

Class began shortly afterward. Professor Zita Cavallo was teaching this class. I hate Professor Zita Cavallo, she owes me for an incident way back in ‘33. She’s a generally nice person, however, which prevents me from telling you to hate her.

Regardless of owed debts, she was teaching this class. Attuned to Space Magic, she was quite the interesting teacher.  Someone stood beside her, a glamour placed upon them. It seemed to be tied to Professor Cavallo but none of the students here were really talented enough to notice that.

“Good morning students,” Cavallo signed, accompanied by their assistant. “My name is Zita Cavallo, this person beside is Luna. This is the Introductory Fifth Circle Magic class,” she paused to cast a spell. The fifth circle emerging behind her. “That includes Energy, Nature, Voice, Time, and Space.” The corresponding points lit up as she signed. “I’m attuned to Space, personally. There’s a lot to discuss! So, we need to discuss and work on the assignment of Rings.”

“Rings?” Someone called out.

“Evenfall and the surrounding area is unfortunately not very safe. So, in order to protect our students, we have made pacts with ancient entities. These old and wise beings have protected our school and students since the beginning of the school’s life. Today, before any classes truly begin, we will be allowing the selection process to occur.”

That got Ardis’s attention. “What do you mean, allowing?” He asked, looking at the professor with confusion.

“You and I do not select your Ring. Their Guardian selects you.” Ah, yes, the stock line every Circle Magic professor uses. I mean, it’s not bad just not creative! “We’ll step outside for a few minutes for the process. It shouldn’t take long but we’re organized into times since there’s quite a few classes to get through and our guardians can’t stretch themselves too far trying to help all of us.”

There were murmurs through the class as Cavallo began to lead them out of the room. It was rather unexpected, after all. The Rings, however, are quite interesting and I always find it fun to watch students in their amazement for what goes on.

They filed out onto an open area, where Cavallo ordered them to circle around. She stepped into the center. The first step to the Ring ritual was the origin summoning.

Cavallo was good at this, she’s done it plenty of times. She stretched out slightly before beginning to cast a very specific spell.

Five circles, well, five rings were illuminated around Cavallo. They burned brightly for a long moment, even despite the sun shining above the students. They soon disappeared and Cavallo grinned. I swear, I hate her cockiness, she did a simple spell, not changing the world. I would know.

“Okay, students. So, the Selection process isn’t very glamorous, but that’s not the point here. This is important, so please listen well.”

Well, we’re not listening to her. I find that Cavallo’s explanations drag on and on and on. She’s the through type and we all know that through means boring.

The Five Rings each represent a Guardian. Fye, Brist, Mir, Sair, and Ravere.

Brist, who manifests as an owl, represents wisdom and creativity. She’s a sweet person but can be terrifying when upset. I don’t recommend making her upset. Mir, who manifests as a deer, represents nature and growth. They’re quite a nice being though a bit of boring. They’re very reliable.

Sair, who manifests as a fox, represents fire and trickery. He was once considered evil but if you give him pets, he melts. Don’t tell him I said that though. Then there’s Ravere, manifesting as a hawk, she represents wind and passion. She’s very strong and appears most frequently to her charges.

Finally, Fye, of ice and courage. A lone wolf, both in personality and form, they’re very selective in who they pick and rarely show kindness. They’re just shy, I think.

Anyways, with that explanation, let us return to the story.

Mary Sue, who had stuck near Ardis for some reason, leaned over. “Obviously, Fye will pick me. I’m the perfect choice!” Ardis nodded half-heartedly, far more curious in the ritual than the girl beside him.

“We’ll begin with…” Cavallo scanned the class. “You! Come here.” Ardis! Wonderful, this chapter was getting long.

Ardis walked over, curiosity suppressing any of his nervousness.

“So, quick explanation, you’ll stand in the center of where the circles were and with a bit of your own magic energy, the Guardians will appear for just a moment, before one selects you. Quick and simple, your magic carries part of yourself, allowing the Guardians to start to understand you.”

Ardis nodded, “How do I use my magic energy?”

“Ah! I forget, not all of you know. Just take a deep breath, focus on whatever it is you feel within you. Search for that energy and cling to it. That’s enough.”

Deciding that was enough of an explanation, mostly because he had been able to do some types of magic beforehand, Ardis figured it wouldn’t be hard.

He closed his eyes, trying to shut out the students around him. He could feel it, the energy and the magic that was there.

He jerked, opening his eyes to see the rings once again bright with light and animals in each one.

The Guardians.

There was only a short moment of tense deliberation before one ring, rimmed in orange with a fox at the center was the only one to remain. Sair, the fox of fire and trickery. He had been selected.

The fox seemed to bow before disappearing as well.

Cavallo clapped her hands to grab Ardis’s attention. “Good job! Let’s get to the next person. You?” She pointed at Mary Sue.

The two switched places as Mary Sue flipped her hair. She was confident, very confident.

Ardis was now able to watch the scene that had unfolded for him, yet slightly different. From the outside, you couldn’t see any of the Guardians, simply the light of the Rings.

For now, Ardis quietly wondered how Kal and Jules were getting along and what it meant for a being of trickery to select him of all people.

taglist: @falling-rivers @superwaywardangel @immawritethat @arynneva  @likeicarusifall @aschenink, @writing-for-the-batfam, @ekrizdis, @wiccanchester, @spacebrick3

[studentville-struggles]

Itchy Numbers // Part 2

You asked for it: part two. I’m not entirely sure this has a plot but whatever??

Words: 1,883 

Mostly features Bucky, Nat and a little Steve.

Part 1

"KNEEL!”

You were the soldier they wanted, you held the influence they wanted, but unfortunately, you weren’t quite as broken as they wanted. Throughout all the training, they’d gotten you to perfect a whole manner of skills but never managed to take you to the stage of killing someone else. Your resolve had definitely been worn down, almost entirely, in number altering machine. Though the near-drowning experience sparked the realisation of how fragile life was, you couldn’t simply take someone else's. This wasn’t going down particularly well with your captors.  

They knew your resolve was becoming weaker, it was only a matter of time before you were fully theirs. As a result, they thought they’d help things along a bit, by brutally beating you when an opportunity arose, as well as a new ‘mind trick’ they’ve employed. According to them “you’re not relaxing enough” and if you just relaxed you would find it much easier to comply. As such, they’ve come up with a method to make you ‘relax’: Electro-convulsive therapy. Effectively an on-off switch for your brain. Effective treatment for certain conditions, but used incorrectly or without proper knowledge? The side effects could be horrific.  

The beatings continued, your ‘relaxation’ was traumatic, to say the least, although each session seemed easier than the one before. It wasn’t long before you were merely a shell of the person you were before, mentally to say the least. The frequency at which they performed ECT on you was certainly not recommended, and it resulted in severe amnesia. They had argued that if you couldn’t remember what you had been through before or who you were, you would be much easier to manipulate and train into the perfect soldier.  

However, when you weren’t out doing their bidding, killing the right people, maiming those who needed a warning, and stealing what was thought to be of use, you were often left confused, not entirely sure what was going on around you. They didn’t seem to care though. They could ‘jump start’ you back into being the perfect soldier with a reasonably small electric shock and send you on your way again. As long as they could do that and have you at their mercy, they didn’t care.

Unsurprisingly, it didn’t take long before people started becoming interested in finding the identity of who was causing so much chaos globally. On one mission you slipped up, a security camera catching the briefest of glances. Obviously, once this came to light and hit the news, you were beaten so brutally you couldn’t go out on a mission for a month, but the damage had been done. You became the number one target for the Avenger’s, they would stop at nothing to find you.

Your capture had been hard work, and in fighting all of them, you couldn’t have been expected to win, but you tried. You got a few good hits in at Natasha before Bucky decided he had had enough and the fight ended then and there. Bucky had knocked you to the ground with such force they thought you had been killed. Upon finding a pulse, however, you were brought here to the avenger’s compound, where you had been checked over and placed in a moderately comfortable cell.  

The thing that concerned the avenger’s more than anything else though was your silence. It wasn’t a bitter silence like they had experienced with the likes of Loki in a sulk, or Hydra agents they had previously captured. No, your silence was one of sorrow, one of subordinance and one that seemed eerily familiar to one particular avenger.  

You would be sat in the same spot of your cell every time someone came to check on you, arms folded tightly against your chest, legs folded up against you. It was as if you were trying to shrink further into the corner if that was even possible. Not once had you lashed out when food was brought, not once had you tried to escape, and no one could understand why. Bucky could see elements of the old him, the winter soldier, in you, and he would on occasion find an excuse to check on you in your cell, to see if anything had changed. You had yet to even make eye contact with him. Naturally, Steve and Natasha were suspicious of your lack of movement and resistance to being held prisoner, to them, it was a sign that worse was to come. One day Bucky happened to interrupt one of their discussions on the matter.

“What if she was told to give up if we caught her? So they could attack from the inside.”

“She’s been here weeks, surely they wouldn’t wait this long?” Steve responded, not fully agreeing with Natasha’s theory.  

“Do you not remember what I was like?” Bucky interrupted, making his presence known. “Withdrawn and quiet. Just like her. Every time I look at her and can hear Hydra screaming “comply” at me to make me shut down and stop resisting their methods. Perhaps, she is not here to kill us all.” Bucky looked Steve in the eye, taking a shaky breath at the memories. “Perhaps, she isn’t even aware she’s with the ‘enemy’, she’s never once looked at us since the first day.” Bucky finally finished. The emotions so clearly tangled with his memories started to reach the surface so he swiftly turned, leaving the room.  

Turning to Natasha, now unsure, Steve quietly asked: “What do we do now?”.

The next day, Natasha toured the compound like she was on a mission. Finding Steve in one of the upstairs kitchens, she simply walked through the room and commanded him to follow her. Quick to pick up on her tone and demeanour, he left the half-made coffee on the counter and followed her as she continued around. Reaching the small avenger’s library, Natasha silently walked to the end of the fifth aisle, knowing those seats were always Bucky’s preferred quiet reading spot, stopping directly in front of him.

“Up you get Barnes, we’ve got questions to ask today.” Confused Bucky just stared at Natasha, trying to figure out if he had an appointment he’d forgotten or if he was the one being interrogated. “Now please.” Natasha finished, starting to get impatient.  

Bucky did as he was told, putting his book under his arm for walking. Both super soldiers walked a little behind the Russian, sending confused looks and shrugs to each other, neither sure what was going on. Soon enough, they recognised the walk to the small ‘prison’ area where they were holding you. Stopping a little away from your cell, Natasha turned to face the boys and held a hand up motioning for you to stop and wait here. She continued on to just outside your cell.

“Hey.” She started softly, unable to provide a more personal greeting. They didn’t know your name, and you couldn’t tell them it even if you thought you were able to; your name merely a word on the tip of your tongue you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Recognising the greeting, you lifted your head, expecting to receive some instructions.

“Can I get you anything?” You had no programmed response to that question, simply staring blankly back at her, knowing any other response may result in a beating. “Something you want? We aren’t here to send you away or hurt you.” Natasha continued, using her charm to try and ease your mind, not quite realising how badly they had broken you.  

The thought of being given something was intriguing, however, as well as Natasha’s comment about not harming you. The new location definitely wasn’t your usual cell, but it hadn’t fully registered that you probably weren’t going back there. If you weren’t then there was something you wanted.

“Skin paint.” You squeaked out, the fear of being disciplined not totally from your mind. Natasha nodded back at you.

“Okay,” she responded softly, “I’ll go and find some. I’ll be back soon.” With that, she left you once more.  

“What does she want?” Bucky didn’t even wait for Natasha to say anything as she re-joined the boys.  

“Skin paint.”  

“What?” Steve and Bucky responded at the same time, confusion clearly evident.  

“We need to find Tony, now.” Natasha didn’t elaborate, only taking the boys for another tour of the compound.  

Having found Tony, a half hour discussion ensued, surrounding what you meant buy skin paint and whether it was safe to give it to you.

“What even is skin paint?”

“Does she mean camo paint, war paint, what?”

“Skin coloured paint maybe?”

“Is she planning on eating it to kill herself or something?”

“Paint can’t kill you, they give it to kids to play with.”

“You could definitely kill someone with a paintbrush though.”

“Well, what are we going to do?”

In the end, they decided to cover all the options, bringing you non-toxic paint - in every colour used in camouflage and a bottle of foundation that Nat threw into the mix on a whim - no paper, and no paintbrushes. Trying to build more trust with you, in the hopes of finding out what exactly was going on with you, Natasha asked the guards to unlock your cell and came in with the tray of paints, placing it down in the centre of the cell. Obviously, for her safety, most of the team were somewhere nearby, being able to see what was unfolding.

Realising what she had done, you shuffled over from your usual spot to sit in front of the paints, looking over them all. However, whilst you were still handcuffed, you still weren’t able to do what you wanted to. Looking at your chained wrists, you looked up at Natasha, trying to read whether it would be okay to ask for her help. Before you could ask though, she asked a guard to unchain your wrists, demanding him to do as she said when the guard hesitated.  

“Thank you.” You whispered, this act of humanity and kindness so unfamiliar.  

Silently turning back to the paints in front of you and quickly picked up the foundation bottle, dispensing three pumps of the liquid into the palm of your hand. The room was eerily quiet as everyone waited to see what you were to do with your request. Slowly you dipped your index finger into the liquid and began dabbing it onto the area below your elbow. Natasha could barely hold back the gasp struggling to escape. She remained in your cell, silently watching you slowly cover the 99 imprinted on your skin with foundation. Only stopping once the number was no longer visible and the foundation had been blended in so that you couldn’t tell anything had been hidden.  

Happy with your work, you managed a small smile, before simply raising your wrists up again to Natasha, happy to be handcuffed once more. Still silent, Natasha motioned to the guard to do as you asked before a small tear slid down her cheek, and she left once more.

The rest of the day you spent staring at your blank arm, happy to not see the number that your previous captors had pointed to and used as an excuse to beat you for not doing what they expected.

Masterlist

Tags as requested/being nice about my trashy writing: @captainrogersdoll @wishingforahome @your-idiotic-excellency

[beatrice-otter]

Fic: made glorious by the touch

Title: made glorious by the touch Author: beatrice_otter Fandom: Fifth Element Written for: yue_ix in Wayback Exchange 2019 (waybackexchange ) Summary: The Mondoshawans come to pick Leeloo up. AN: you asked for shenanigans, and … I tried.  I produced metaphysical musings instead.  Sorry!  I did at least get a little culture shock in there. On AO3. On Dreamwidth. On Pillowfort.

"So, if the Mondoshawans are all hot to save life, how come they've never interfered before?" Korben muttered as they stood on the landing pad, waiting for the Mondoshawan ship to arrive. "'Cause there is always some shit going down somewhere, and they're one of the biggest nations in the known universe. Hell, if they'd just stepped in and had Zorg killed a month before everything kicked off, everything would have gone off without a hitch."

Leeloo shook her head. "No, Korben. Death cannot create life. Violence cannot create life. Only life can create life." She breathed in deeply, tasting the life of all the many billions of creatures in the city around them. They were so much cleaner, and livelier, than they had been when she arrived.

This is the great universal truth that Leeloo knows better than she knows her own name. It is not merely encoded in her DNA; it is the entirety of her existence. It is the truth for which and through which she was created. It is what she does when she takes the four pillars of creation—warmth and water, earth and air, the building blocks of life—and harnesses them together for the power of creation. Leeloo does not destroy evil; no, she frees it from itself, gives it the power to live instead of die, and in that transformation, entropy is reversed and the life of the universe is rejuvenated and the cycle begins again.

Ruby Rhod was standing close enough to hear them. He shoved Korben with a noise of frustration. "What's wrong with you, always violence this and bombs that and shooting people! Korben, my man, make love not war! Be green, super green. We need to build things up, bring people together, not kill them!" Leeloo didn't understand why he kept talking anout that color. There was no green around them, in the middle of this great city, and nobody was wearing green; she and Korben were in suits, Father Cornelius and Acolyte David were in their robes, and Rhod himself was in a yellow and blue and pink bodysuit that made Leeloo think of flowers.

Korben rolled his eyes. "Yeah. And Zorg would have just stopped trying to kill us if we'd just asked nicely. And the Mangalores, they would have let us walk through with the stones."

Leeloo shivered in remembrance. She herself had not killed anyone; all they needed was to get through their opponents, and knocking them out was enough. But she had felt the deaths, piling up inexorably one by one, sapping her strength and her will, and she did not like remembering that Korben himself had caused some of them.

"If serving life were easy, the Mondoshawans would not have needed to engineer a perfect being to accomplish it," Father Cornelius put in.

"This cycle was harder," Leeloo said thoughtfully. "In the past, the forces of evil had no weapons that could destroy ships before they got to the Temple." And Leeloo herself had never needed to fight. In the past, the ship would land at the Temple and awaken her, the Mondoshawans would form a living wall with their bodies to protect her from any of the forces of evil that showed up, and she would activate the stones. Some Mondoshawans might be killed by the forces of evil trying to prevent her transformation, but as long as she succeeded they did not die in vain … and dying themselves caused less entropy than a full battle would. And besides, Mondoshawans were very hard to kill. "All the death added to the entropy. It was harder to resist."

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, why are you talking like you've done it before?" Rhod asked. "Everybody says the cycle is five thousand years long, which is why the ritual happens in an ancient temple out in the middle of nowhere instead of a nice modern building with air conditioning and running water. I dunno why nobody thought of putting in air conditioning in there, and maybe a humidifier, because my sinuses were not happy by the time we left I can tell you, but you are way, way, way, way, way too young to have been there five thousand years ago. Unless the Mondoshawans have much better hypersleep technology than anyone else."

"They do," Leeloo said, "but that's not what they use for me. I am turned into a statue to wait in between the times I am necessary."

Korben jerked. "You're what? Is that some sort of metaphor?" He turned to Father Cornelius. "Father, tell me that's some sort of metaphor."

Father Cornelius shook his head. "No, my son, it isn't. I've never seen her in that form, of course—the Mondashawans removed her for safekeeping during the First World War—but I've seen the pictures. It's why I was so surprised to see she was a she. The statue doesn't have …" he waved his hands, trying to think of the word "… doesn't have …"

"Visible genitalia or secondary sex characteristics," Leeloo said helpfully.

Father Cornelius' hands cupped briefly at chest level. "Yes, those," he said.

"Perfection is not about gender," Leeloo said. "Either all genders are perfect or none are. And the same goes for genitals. So I have one kind, and the statue has another, so that all will be encompassed symbolically within."

Rhod brightened and brought his microphone staff closer to her face. It wasn't live, this time; the human government wanted the ability to edit the record of this historic contact. "So tell me more about Mondoshawan sex. And gender!"

"Wait, are the Mondoshawans going to want to put you back into a statue?" Korben asked, pushing Rhod's staff aside.

"Yes," Leeloo said.

"Now?" Korben asked.

"Soon." She did not want to leave Korben and Father Cornelius and Ruby Rhod and David, but she was so tired. The human rejuvenation machine was wonderful, but she had had to give so much more than usual, and the machine could not quite make up the difference.

"But you saved the world!" Korben objected. "Surely you're owed a little time off."

"Time off?" Leeloo asked, frowning. She had assimilated all the knowledge of Wikipedia, but she did not always understand the connections between concepts.

"You know, free time," Korben said. "Vacation. Time for just you, when you don't have to follow any orders or do any shit you don't want to."

"I never have to follow any orders," Leeloo said.

"Of course not, you're a supreme being," Father Cornelius said. "Who would give orders to a supreme being?"

"I dunno, Father, maybe the people who created her?" Korben said.

Leeloo shrugged. "My purpose is my calling is my job is my desire. I create life. I save life. I saved all life, and then I created life with you, and soon I will sleep until the next time I must save life."

"And what was it like, creating life with Korben Dallas?" Rhod asked, shoving his staff at her again.

She smiled at him. "Very nice," she said. Why Korben didn't like Rhod, she couldn't imagine; Rhod was very dedicated to life, and with none of Korben's unfortunate tendency to respond to challenges by shooting them. "Korben is very creative … when he wants to be. Very helpful. It is always nice to create life with a partner. More powerful, that way."

"So, all this talk of creating life, does this mean that in nine months there'll be another little Dallas running around?" Rhod asked.

Leeloo cocked her head, unsure of what he meant.

"He's asking if you're pregnant," Korben said.

"I am not," Leeloo said. "I create life in other ways." She paused, trying to think of how to explain her function in English. The language had such a paucity of ways to talk about the metaphysics of life and entropy. No physical new life was created, but two or more people moving in harmony and mutual care was always life-giving in a metaphysical sense.

Father Cornelius spoke up. "What she means is that while the visible manifestation and outpouring of life she channels through the stones when they are activated is the most obvious expression of her powers, she is always emitting life force on a noticeable level to some degree or other. Her very existence creates life and reduces—or in some cases, reverses—entropy. That's what makes her the perfect life-form. There is nothing in the universe as alive as she is. Why, even in statue form, she emanates a noticeable amount of life. Infertile couples used to copulate in her temple in order to conceive, warring factions would meet there to broker peace, prophets would sleep there to receive visionary dreams, artists would come there to be inspired … it was a very great loss to everyone on the planet when she had to be removed."

"So, when people bam bam in the ham, they're giving life to the universe?" Rhod asked, eyes alight.

"Yes," Leeloo said. She didn't understand the words, but she knew what he meant. When in doubt, Rhod always meant something about sex. "Unless it kills the spirit." Humans could take even sex and make it soul-killing.

"Ladies and gentlemen, you heard it here first: bumping boots and whuffling goots is recharging the universe's life-bank, so we are going to have some love-ins on the Ruby Rhod show, I can tell you that. Join me in sticking it to the man, the woman, and anyone else who wants it."

"Of course, there are many other ways of encouraging and creating life," Father Cornelius said. "Meditation, tending to plants and animals, all the other forms of love besides the physical—"

"Yeah, but sex is the fun one," Rhod said.

"Yeah, and Leeloo isn't going to get to do any of them if she's in a damn statue," Korben said, raising his voice. His fists were clenched. "So how the fuck are we going to keep them from doing that to her?"

"Korben," Leeloo said gently, taking his fists in her hands and encouraging them to open. "They are not doing anything to me besides giving me a safe place to rest until I am needed again."

"You're needed here!" Korben said. "We need you! I need you."

"I am always needed," Leeloo said gently. "And I am very tired."

"You got plenty of sleep last night," Korben protested.

"It's not a physical kind of tired," Leeloo said. Her few days of activity had taken every last reserve of energy she had, and given that she had had to start those days of activity by re-growing her entire physical body (albeit with help), those reserves had not been great to start with.

"It is true that the longer you stay animate, the greater the boost you give to life at the beginning of this cycle, the better it will be for all of us … and the easier the battle next time." Father Cornelius sighed and shook his head. "I would never presume to tell you how to fulfill your function, of course, Leeloo, you know that, but if there is any way you could remain with us longer in this form, we would all be very humbly grateful."

"I know, Cornelius," Leeloo said.

"What about that rejuvenating thing the government has?" Korben said. "You felt better after we went in that. Would it help to do it again?"

"Some," Leeloo said. "It is fake life, but it does help a little." She squeezed his hands. "I don't want to leave you, Korben, and I will stay as long as I can, but I cannot stay awake too long."

"Okay, then that's what we'll do. We'll get the government to let you use the thing as often as you need it, and we'll find other things, and you'll stay as long as you can."

"What do you want the government to do for you, Mister Dallas?" came a voice from over her shoulder. Leeloo turned to see President Lindberg approaching with his retinue.

"The rejuvenating chamber we went in to help Leeloo recover, sir," Korben said. "She needs it again."

"That chamber takes about ten million credits per use," Lindberg said. "But I'm sure if the Mondoshawans request it, we can make an agreement. Now, everybody's going to be calm and peaceful," he said, giving Korben a hard look, "and respectful," he transferred that look to Ruby Rhod, "when the Mondoshawans arrive, right?"

"Yes."

"Super green."

"All right, then." He checked his cuff links.

The Mondoshawan ship began its descent. They all looked up to watch it come. As it grew nearer, Leeloo considered. Human society had so many places where it needed to encourage life instead of death. And so, so many people who needed to face the error of their ways. And Father Cornelius was right. The more change there was now, the less drain there would be on Leeloo. This time around, she might take a more … active role in the tending of life.

Korben would probably enjoy it.

Stream of Life, by Rabindranath Tagore The same stream of life that runs through my veins night and day runs through the world and dances in rhythmic measures. It is the same life that shoots in joy through the dust of the earth in numberless blades of grass and breaks into tumultuous waves of leaves and flowers. It is the same life that is rocked in the ocean-cradle of birth and of death, in ebb and in flow. I feel my limbs are made glorious by the touch of this world of life. And my pride is from the life-throb of ages dancing in my blood this moment.

[thegreatpikminzx789]

In the Deepest Darkness - Chapter 4

Wattpad|Archive of Our Own|Fanfiction.Net

Wowzers, I actually wrote a ton for this one chapter. I was even considering just slapping ‘the end’ on this chapter’s draft and calling it a day, but I want to at least end this off on five chapters. But either way, before we get to it, I was unsure how to approach this fight, whether to have a few chapters dedicated to this one particular fight. But then again, I’ve only fought this thing on Picnic, so I’ll never be able to call myself a master of EO2U if I don’t beat Ur-Child on Expert...

Anyways, I decided to include at least a few phases here, leaving the remainder of the final phase for the next part, seeing as I could write more beyond what I originally wanted the fight to end on. For the most part, I believe I did an alright job with combat a lot better than what I wanted in an Etrian Odyssey Untold story I previously had up before removing it due to wanting to remake it. I may have mindlessly tossed a mention for the first remake there, but that was also a thing my brain told me “Hey, you should totally do this thing”. That’s hard to stop sometimes, and I feel like I’m gonna regret adding it in either for the cool factor or because of other reasons sooner or later... ^ ^;

Shen, Tobyn, Lynus, Axel, Magnus, and Macerio all belong to @theshatteredrose

Hibiki belongs to me.

Although the location the Gungnir Guild found themselves on is the Forbidden Woods, Shen quickly reassures them that they arrived on the thirty-first floor. Korey and the others glance around.

"No wildlife here... Just like Shen said." Korey concluded, turning around to face the Ronin. "So, where do we go from here?" He asked, as the Ronin motioned for him and the others to follow him to a batch of bushes.

"This passage is the only safer way to get to Ur-Devil without having to deal with the FOEs on this floor." Shen explained, shifting some of the plants to reveal the pathway. "Well, we'd love to explore the floor at some point, but-"

As Flavio speaks, Shen quickly intervenes. "You really don't want to deal with these types of FOEs. Their movement is... unpredictable, to say the least."

Bertrand couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at that statement. "Unpredictable movement, eh? Sounds irksome..." He began, rolling his eyes. He disliked the idea that an FOE would have free will to move about anywhere with no set path.

"Also obnoxious." Chloe added, adjusting her glasses. Fafnir started to go through the shortcut. "Yeah... But, we can deal with them later to complete our monster encyclopedia. Come on."

As Fafnir goes through, the rest of the guild members of Guild Gungnir and Shen go through the shortcut one at a time. Korey easily sees a door and makes his way towards it, as the others follow close behind. When he reaches for the door, he stops as he senses the extreme amount of malice and darkness coming from behind the door, causing the Highlander to gasp and take a few steps back.

"Sir Korey, are you alright?" Arianna inquired her worry to the shaking Highlander. It was all so sudden, yet, he hasn't felt this afraid since the journey through his Yggdrasil's sixth stratum. The being that was sealed away... it's mere strength was enough to send fear down his spine.

This... this was just like if that same monster got reincarnated and got even stronger than before! Perhaps it was a mistake to accept helping Shen after all... "Sir Korey!" Arianna's yell snapped him back to the reality of the situation, causing him to turn to face the purple haired girl.

"I-I'm fine, Arianna... I-It's just cold up here, is all!" Korey stuttered, trying to mask his fear. Ricky sighed and rolled her eyes, seeing how obvious his lie is.

"Stop lying, Korey. It's not like you to just straight up lie to try and cover up your fears..." Ricky states, as the Highlander turned to face the Millennium Girl to bear the brunt of her worry. He sighs, holding his arm as his gaze at the ground.

"I'm sorry, Ricky... I guess it's just deja vu from the last time I've dealt with a dangerous being..." He admitted, his eyes shifting to Chloe as he saw her approach him.

"You don't have to be scared. In truth, all of us are scared. But that won't stop Chloe from doing her best." She began, holding onto one of Korey's hands in an attempt to comfort him. How someone like Chloe can manage to admit her worry and fear, yet manage to be brave was beyond his comprehension.

"I may not be able to live my life normally anymore, but I ain't letting that, nor whatever this Ur-Devil has in store, get the best of me." Bertrand continued, seeing as the Highlander could use a little encouragement. "And I'm sure there might have been moments in Sir Shen's life where he was scared..." Arianna commented, as Shen looks away, giving a nod a few seconds later.

"But we're all scared of something. This is just one more monster we need to strike down for the safety of those we care about." She continued, facing the worried Highlander with pride. He felt Fafnir's hand place itself on one of his shoulders, shifting his attention to Fafnir. Although he didn't have much to say, he gave a silent nod and a comforting smile... it was almost enough to remind him of his loved one prior to the battle with his Yggdrasil's toughest monster beyond its fifth stratum.

And he, too, smiled back, faith restored in the guild he helped along the way. "You're right... Thanks guys. I'm glad to have friends such as you." Korey beamed, looking the guild members before him with newfound determination.

"Not a problem. Now, let's go." Fafnir hummed, as he began pushing on the door, fearless of what lied within that room. As Korey and the others went through, they were astonished to see the being that Gradriel proclaimed to be the 'deepest darkness'.

If there was even a word to describe it, it probably would lose all sense of meaning here. While the Ur-Devil was drastically different from Ur-Child, both name and appearance as the latter was looking angelic in a way, Ur-Devil expertly puts its appearance to represent all that is humanity's greatest sin. Six large claw-like protrusions from it's back, that could easily resemble six wings, a mass of tentacles coming from below it, almost giving off the illusion that it's sitting on it, the green, rotund belly its once human body has acting as a connecting piece to the being that stands before the Guild it now gazes upon...

It was... frightening.

"Sweet mother of Iorys..." Korey spoke, mouth agape as any hope he previously had seem to evaporate from his entire being. "T-THAT's what we're up against?" The blonde girl questioned, turning to Shen when she asked. He gazed back at her and responded, "Even worse when it's the real thing, isn't it?"

"Y-Yeah! This thing just screams dark and evil!" Flavio yelled, unintentionally clutching onto Fafnir's arm as he did so.

"Sheesh, even though I'm not one to care for these types of monsters, it's malice sure knows no bounds..." Bertrand noted, seeming to stare at the huge being standing before them.

"But, here we stand, the only ones standing in its way..." The Sovereign braved herself, taking out her weapon, as Bertrand, Chloe, Ricky, and Flavio did the same. Korey glanced at Fafnir and Shen, giving each other silent nods before facing Ur-Devil, and drew their weapons.

No more games. The time for battle is nigh, as they make their way towards Ur-Devil. As if sensing their approach, Ur-Devil prepares for battle as well. "Our best bet is to keep it blinded at all times. Flavio, I entrust that task to you." Shen declared, as the Survivalist nodded in return.

"Leave it to me." Flavio took out an arrow and dipped it in some of the blinding gas in his pocket, before pocketing the item and taking aim with his bow. "Take this!"

Releasing the string on his bow, the arrow launched high into the air, hitting Ur-Devil and somehow causing it to be blinded. "Hell yeah! The Shaved Ice seems to be doing its job!" Flavio cheered, not questioning how this thing has no eyes whatsoever.

"Don't celebrate too soon, Flavio. We still need to take it down." Fafnir addressed, as Ricky aimed her gun towards the giant. "Not like it wants to go down that easily..." Ricky added, seeing as the fight had just begun.

"Then we'll just have to start dishing out the damage while we can! Hiyyyaah!" Korey declared, charging at Ur-Devil and jumps at it, using his Delayed Charge skill on it. As Ur-Devil attempts to find what hurt it, Shen takes advantage of its confusion and used his Frigid Slash skill, causing the creature to scream in pain.

"Sheesh, for being weak to elementals, you sure have quite the mouth to blab about how much it hurts." Bertrand sighed, taking a strike at it with his sword. "Mr. Deepest Darkness won't be feeling it once we're done with it." Chloe addressed, using her Guard Slash skill on Ur-Devil, as the creature seems to have its defenses lowered a bit.

Ricky focuses her aim, and shoots two bullets at the arms, hitting them as vines grew on them, binding themselves to Ur-Devil. Their green texture easily stood out from the mix of purple the black human bod has attached itself to. However, Ur-Devil grows a smile on its face, sending out some sort of energy wave, hitting everyone and draining their TP, heavily exhausting them.

"What the... hell was that about?!" Korey gasped, gritting his teeth as he attempted to stand. "It's trying to tire us out... right out of the gate..." Shen tried to explain, falling on his knee from his attempt of standing up.

"Not something... a Healing Remedy can fix!" Arianna declared, getting the remedy out and uses it on everyone. Bertrand helps Chloe stand up, and Arianna goes to assist Shen, the Ronin thanking the Sovereign for helping him stand.

"Well, that was something... Best to keep those remedies as back up, Arianna. Something tells me we'll be needing to rely on them a lot." Korey insisted, as the princess nodded.

"You got it, Sir Korey!" Arianna and Bertrand simultaneously go up to Ur-Devil and strike it, as Flavio takes an arrow and shoots it upward, hoping it will land on Ur-Devil. Fafnir glances at Flavio, smirking at his friend's plan. "Confident in that Sagittarius Arrow, eh?" He queried.

"Well sometimes, it's best to try than to not try at all, Fafnir!" Flavio blurted, as Fafnir simply chuckled before taking a swing at Ur-Devil, letting Korey and Shen take their turns at it. The sky turned red, as Ur-Devil tried releasing red energy waves towards its attackers, but thanks to a combination of missing and dodging, everyone survived being hurt.

"You know, it's a lot easier with allies around than having none at all, Shen. You know what you're doing when it comes together in one solid plan." The brown haired Highlander commented, and although he wasn't sure if Shen took it as a compliment or not, he still took some time to respond to him. "You say that now, but it'll get tougher as we go on. Don't let your guard down for a second!"

"Easier said than done, knowing my luck..." Korey uttered, using his Cross Charge attack on Ur-Devil. As time passed, they seem to made gradual progress with striking Ur-Devil, and being lucky with avoiding some of its attacks. But even mortals cannot dodge forever...

As the Gungnir Guild and Shen continue their onslaught on the Ur-Devil, it eventually breaks free of its arm bind and finally lands an attack after being able to see - sending blue energy waves at Korey, Arianna, Ricky and Fafnir.

"Gagghh!" Korey screamed in pain, as Ricky used her turn to send a healing bullet his way. "Damn it, it's able to see again!" Fafnir growled, standing up after being launched back by its attack.

"Not that I'm one to question how it's able to see much like Ur-Child, but how is it able to hit us, exactly?" Flavio queried, as he dips another arrow in the blinding gas, and using his Blind Arrow skill, manages to land another blind effect on Ur-Devil. The less its able to see, somehow, the better.

"It probably has high senses that it counts as seeing through, probably? I'm not one for monster biology." Shen tried explaining, giving up halfway through his explanation.

"Not to mention the Overlord is dead, so we can't straight up ask him why he made them that way." Korey added, as he grabbed his spear and stood up. "Less talking, more fighting, Korey. Ammunition can't be sustained forever, you know!" Ricky urged, trying to take considerate care for her means of attacking in this fight.

"Yeah, yeah..." Korey sighed, as he gets up to make his move on Ur-Devil. "I swear... by the Order... protect us!" Arianna chanted, as a healing aura flows through Korey, Ricky, Flavio, and Fafnir. She proceeds to do the same for herself, and the others that she didn't use it on before.

As swords and attacks from both sides continued for some time, Ur-Devil begins shaking. "What is it doing now?!" The Highlander questioned.

"Look, something's coming out from those sockets!" Chloe exclaimed, as everyone looks at the empty sockets from the large claw-like wings. From the top most socket and the bottom left holes, two huge red eyes appear. Everyone but Shen gasps at the surprise.

"Ur-Eyes." Shen grunts, much less to his amusement. Flavio couldn't help but shiver at seeing those things appear.

"So is THAT how it's able to see?!" He asked, freaking out a little bit at the thought that it was hiding eyes within itself the entire time.

"Beats me, but if it's able to summon those, we'll gonna be in deep trouble. Let's diverge our attention to defeat those eyes!" Korey issued without hesitation. Even though Fafnir was technically the guild's leader, seeing the Highlander act upon a dangerous situation for himself was honestly a sight to behold for the Fafnir Knight.

"Right! How about this, you horrid monster?!" Ricky yells, shooting a few elemental Ice Rounds at the eyes, causing them to bulge from the surprise attack. Shen uses his Frigid Slash to deal some more damage to one of them taking it out surprisingly well thanks to Fafnir's assistance. Thankfully, Korey, with his Spear Assist, and Flavio worked well together thanks to the earlier Ice Rounds from Ricky, to take down the other eye.

"Talk about quick work." Fafnir commented, as Korey lands on the ground and turns to Fafnir. "You know, what can I say? I know troublesome assistants when I see them." Korey remarked, scratching the back of his head as if he was caught doing something a child would do.

Though things quickly changed, as Ur-Devil begins to charge up, seeming to amplify something for its upcoming attack. Shen gasps, "It's charging up! If it's doing what I think it's doing...!"

"Heh, doesn't hurt to be safe than sorry. Perfect Defense!" Bertrand smirks, using his Force Break, as everyone was guarded by some kind of invisible aura. Once Ur-Devil finished charging, it unleashes its most devastating attack; Eternal Exodus. As the shots hit everyone, they weren't launched back from the attack. In fact, they were relatively unfazed by the attack thanks to Bertrand's quick thinking.

"Nice one, Bertrand! Talk about a close one!" Flavio complimented, as Bertrand glanced at him. "Kid, now's not the time to-"

Before Bertrand can even finish, a bright gleam shined from Ur-Devil, causing everyone to shield their eyes for a few seconds, before it fades. It didn't take long to realize it must have taken their Force away. Kind of like Ur-Child did. And it also manage to be able to see after that gleam occurred.

"Well shoot." Was all Bertrand said, not bothering to lash out in anger on his friend. Although Korey decided to do just that.

"Gee, way to jinx things, Flavio!" Korey hollered, as Flavio wasn't gonna have any of that jinxing remark thrown his way. "Heeey! Not my fault I was trying to compliment Bertrand!"

"Just get to binding the damn legs of this thing. I'll try blinding it with this blinding gas!" Shen ordered, searching through his bag to get the item in question.

"Easier said than done!" Ricky declared, shooting two bullets at the legs, as green vines attached itself onto Ur-Devil again. Shen took the blinding gas and threw it at Ur-Devil, as the bottle explodes on impact. When the gas clears...

Well, needless to say, Shen was surprised. Legitimately surprised. Even when the gas hit its target, it wasn't blinded whatsoever. "What...?! It should have worked as intended!" He questioned, having never seen this kind of situation happen in his solo encounter with the Ur-Devil.

Everyone was surprised at this turn of events. Their strategy that they had used might be starting to lose its use in this battle. "Unless it might be trying to build up a resistance to being blind as the fight drags on..." Fafnir began.

"That could spell disastrous news for us...!" Arianna gulped, starting to become afraid of the worst possible outcome. "We have to get it blinded, or we'll never win this battle..." Chloe declared, but before anyone had a chance to comment, another gleam came from Ur-Devil.

"...Huh. At least it was forgiving enough to give us back our Force power." Korey hesitated at first, but felt more or less back at normal fighting capacity with his Force back.

"Yeah, unlike the Ur-Child... However, granting us back our Force will be its biggest mistake." Fafnir concurred, as he transformed into his signature form, the Fafnir Knight.

"Let's show this damned ultimate life form what for!" The transformed knight declared, as everyone, brave enough to hopefully turn some of the tide of battle, stood by his side. "Magnus... please, for my sake, give me the strength to live on through this battle..." Shen utters to himself for a brief moment before glancing back at the almighty being before him.

Back down at the base of Yggdrasil, Hibiki fumbles with the Geomagnetic Pole as she finally finds the place the Gungnir Guild went to. "...They're in Dark Paradise." Hibiki declared.

"Dark Paradise?" Axel queried, feeling the Forest Girl gaze at him. "A secluded area in the sixth stratum that has been sealed long before any explorers dared to climb Yggdrasil. At least, that's how the rumors go..." She explained to the best of her knowledge.

"If it's in the sixth stratum, why give it that name to differentiate from the main stratum?" Lynus asked, bringing up a valid question. "Probably to prevent explorers from mindlessly finding it, if I had to venture a guess." Magnus suggested, seeing as Hibiki did not have an answer for the Medic.

"Let's just go already. The more we wait, time's running out for Shen and the others." Tobyn insisted, going through the Geomagnetic Pole. The others, including Hibiki, soon followed, warping above Yggdrasil to the same floor the previous guild had entered. As they move away from the Geomagnetic Pole, they hear an indescribable scream.

"The hell was that?!" Tobyn gasped in surprise, looking around desperately trying to find the source of the sound. "Must be the deepest darkness. Thy friends must still be fighting it as we speak." Hibiki deduced, hearing some sounds of yells and words are coming from somewhere in the labyrinth.

"Shen..." Magnus sighed, clutching his chest, hoping the Ronin was still alive. Lynus notices a dirt trail coming from the magnetic pole.

"Lynus? What is it?" Axel inquired as soon as he saw Lynus follow a trail he had not seen before. The Medic soon arrives at the shortcut, seeing some shrubbery discarded beside it.

"This trail leads directly to this bush. It must be a shortcut of sorts... And judging from the way it was made, it must have been from the tip of a sword." Lynus exclaimed, as the others followed behind him.

"Likely Shen's sword...?" Magnus inquired. "That's a possibility, though I may be wrong and it could have been a spear..." The orange haired medic responded, at most educating a guess.

"We must make haste. I can sense the deepest darkness is up to something." Hibiki declared, urging the others to hurry on through the shortcut. They soon hear grunts and yells coming from a slightly open door, proceeding to make their way to it. As Lynus opens it, he reels back from the sight of something, as Axel grabs Lynus to prevent him from falling backwards.

"Lynus, are you alright?!" Axel shouted, hoping to calm the medic down. "T-T-That... thing... it's too..." Lynus stuttered, unable to find the right words to express the fear he felt.

"Lynus, get a grip, man!" Macerio yelled, helping Axel in calming down the frightened Medic. Magnus peeks through the door, witnessing the sight of Ur-Devil for himself.

"Ugh... This damn thing refuses to die..." Korey grunts, taking a few steps back after using an attack of his. "Being sparse with our damage output isn't helping in this part either..." Arianna added, taking a deep breath as she tries to stand.

"But we must... Ugh, stand tall!" Fafnir urged, picking up his sword. "I can dodge at least one more attack, but I'm unsure whether blinding it will still work when it's resistance seems to be building up more and more..." Flavio suggested, struggling to stand up.

Magnus notices Shen is on his knees, seemingly running out of strength to continue. Was he too late?  He felt his hand clench around something, and turns to see a blinding gas that Hibiki placed in his hand.

"Hibiki, what are you-"

"Thou must not hesitate. Throw it with everything thou possess to strike that thing with this." Hibiki quickly urged.

Not having enough time to process this opportunity, Magnus goes through the door and throws the blinding gas at the Ur-Devil. The bottle hits its mark, as Ur-Devil flinches back and unleashing its attack, missing all of them in the process.

"Huh?!" Ricky jumped in surprise when that blinding gas came out of nowhere and managed to blind the Ur-Devil. Before anyone could ask who did that, Magnus runs up to Shen and brings him into a hug.

"M-Magnus?!" Shen stuttered, not believing what was happening right this moment... "You can be one real idiot sometimes, Shen... But when we stick together, we do JUST that!" Magnus declared, looking into Shen's eyes like a strict parent tells their child to look at them in the eyes.

"Hey, it's Mr. Medic and his guild." Chloe announced, seeing Lynus, Axel, Macerio, and Tobyn come through the door and approach Shen. "What are they doing here?" Fafnir questioned.

"Easy enough to have concerns for a fellow guild member." Axel replied, as he makes a glare towards the Ur-Devil. "So, you're this so called 'Ur-Devil', huh? That's gonna change very soon, cause I'm gonna bash your sorry skull into the ground!" The red haired Landsknecht threatened, taking out his axe.

"Here, some Amrita's. You'll need them." Tobyn gives out some Amritas to everyone on the Gungnir Guild. Korey notices Hibiki standing right beside him.

"H-Hibiki? What are you doing here?!" Korey questioned, seeing as he never seen her with such a determined glare in her eyes.

"We have no time to speak about why I am here. The enemy prepares to strike." Hibiki replies, as the Highlander quickly turns to see Ur-Devil use Shed thy Tears on Magnus, Macerio, and Tobyn.

"Guaah!" Tobyn yelled, caught off guard by the attack. "Ugh...! You ungrateful-!" Magnus growled, glaring at the giant creature for daring to attack him.

"Here, some heals." Chloe spoke up, using  a healing skill of hers, greatly recovering the injuries of the three boys that were targeted. For good measure, she also heals everyone.

"Ah, thank you, miss." Macerio thanked, as Chloe gave him a small smile. "Chloe's just doing her job."

Magnus, however, still wasn't happy with the Ur-Devil. "Hope you love the taste of fire, motherfucker, cause I'm gonna burn you to the ground!" Magnus hand gauntlets ignited with fire, sending off a powerful Flame Formula towards it, making direct contact with it.

"Here goes!" Tobyn yelled, using his Multi-Shot skill to back up Magnus' Flame Formula, hitting Ur-Devil directly. Hibiki then steps forward, with a Grimoire stone in hand.

"Deepest Darkness..." She began. "Thou shall face the wrath of not only that of the princess of the Forest Folk, but of those who will stand by me, and accomplish the deed tasked onto us by Lady Gradriel! Null thy Strength!"

The Grimoire Stone shines, as Hibiki charged forward and slashed at Ur-Devil, making its attack lowered.

"We shall not Pity the Weak! Not even for a bastard like you!" She continued, going for another attack while the Ur-Devil is reeling from the first one, now lowering its defenses.

"Look at Dame Hibiki..." Arianna said, astonished at the Forest Girl's quick thinking. "She's quite skilled for not being able to fight all that often..." Korey remarked.

"Quite astonishing, if I must say so myself. Are Forest Folk usually this naive when it comes to fighting?" Axel inquired the Highlander, giving him a few seconds to think of an answer.

"Well, since Lagaard doesn't have any Forest Folk within it... Probably not..." Korey shrugged, as a gleam from Ur-Devil catches everyone off guard, granting the Gungnir Guild back their Force. However, it then summons a blue Ur-Eye and a yellow Ur-Eye along with its red Ur-Eye from the holes it had in its claw-like wings.

Everyone on the Guardian Guild was surprised when it occurred. Though Tobyn was easily shocked by that fact. "What the hell?!" Tobyn screamed, blinking his eyes to reassure he wasn't dreaming of that had happened.

"T-That thing has EYES?!" Lynus soon followed suit in the confusion. "And they come from those holes on it?!" Followed by Axel.

"Pretty much everyone's reaction to when that happened..." Shen remarked, specifically mentioning the Gungnir Guild. "Now's not the time to be joking around, Shen!" Magnus sighed, as Shen simply shrugged before re-assuming his battle stance.

"I was just trying to lighten the mood..." Shen uttered to himself. "Focus, you guys! We came this far into the fight when you showed up, and we're gonna need help to finish it off!" Ricky declared, shooting at Ur-Devil so she can get another bind off on it.

"All I can really do is heal, so-"

"No need to worry, Lynus. Leave the smashing part to me, you just heal us whenever necessary!" Axel reassured the Medic, as he proceeds to charge towards Ur-Devil. Macerio fires some volt elemental bullets, hitting the blue Ur-Eye, and Ricky fires some fire elemental bullets, hitting the yellow Ur-Eye shortly after the blue eye took its hit.

"Stunning Smash!" Axel yells, jumping up to hit the red Ur-Eye with his axe, causing the eye to spasm and explode, causing Axel to be launched back. "Axel!" Lynus yelled as he quickly rushes over to him and heals him.

"Are you alright?!" The Medic queried, as the red haired Landsknecht sat up. "Yeah, I'm alright. Just surprised it did that after hitting it..." He replied, picking up his axe and taking Lynus' hand to help him stand up.

"Taste electricity, you damned beast!" Magnus yelled, using a Spark Formula to strike the blue Ur-Eye. Shen uses his Flame Grater attack to strike the yellow Ur-Eye as Ur-Devil recovers health while the enemies standing before it striked at its eyes.

"We got to get rid of those damn eyes... Force Boost!" Korey growled, activating his Hero Boost Force Boost, using his Spear Assist  to kill off the red Ur-Eye, exploding upon defeat, healing from Bertrand's Fire Wall skill.

Hibiki soon takes her turn against one of the Ur-Eyes, targeting the blue one as she takes a leap at it. "Take this!" She yelled, slashing at it, and backing away once Bertrand hits it as well. It then explodes, as Bertrand easily shields himself and Hibiki with his Ice Wall skill.

As if getting desperate, Ur-Devil releases some kind of aura. "Oh no... that can't be good..." Lynus gulped.

"Why? This thing's already not good!" Axel spoke, landing from striking at the Ur-Devil. "N-No... it's just that... if anyone of you falls... I d-don't think reviving you will work while its up..." Lynus tried to explain loud and clear so everyone could hear him.

"Great... this thing must really be that desperate." Bertrand sighed, getting up from hiding behind his shield.

"Stay determined, everyone! We can't give up!" Korey ordered, feeling rather frustrated at the tricks Ur-Devil seems to be trying to stoop to.

Tobyn uses his Multi-Shot attack on the yellow Ur-Eye, as Arianna goes over to protect Tobyn with her Volt Wall Grimoire, shielding him from the Ur-Eye's death explosion, as the last Ur-Eye faded away to nothingness. "All Ur-Eyes eliminated." Shen shouted, signaling repeating his sentence one more time to make sure everyone was paying full attention.

"And here comes an Eternal Exodus with our names on it." Korey huffed as he notices Ur-Devil began charging up for the attack.

"You sound as if you're not excited for it when I have the perfect counter against it." Bertrand grinned, using his Perfect Defense Force Break, nulling the damage Eternal Exodus could have done to everyone. Although a bright gleam from Ur-Devil then takes their Force away.

"Huh-?! What's happening?!" Lynus questioned, looking around to find out what happened. "Hey, what gives, I was gonna use my Force, you son of a bitch!" Axel snarled at the giant being.

"Relax, kid. If it's gonna be as forgiving as it was earlier, it's going to give us a fighting chance by giving it back to us." Bertrand reassured the Landsknecht.

"Wait, just like that? But why would it-?" Magnus questioned, confused about why a being as powerful as Ur-Devil would give its enemies a fighting chance.

"I wish we knew, Magnus... I wish we knew..." Shen simply shrugged, unable to really answer his love's question. The Forest Girl glares at the giant being, feeling the atmosphere tense up around her, letting out a gasp as a realization hit her.

"Hibiki? What's up?" Korey asked, the first to hear the girl's sudden worry, before she turned to face everyone. "I regret to inform you all at such a short notice, but..."

Hibiki gulps before continuing. "I'm afraid... we're running out of time." That couldn't be good news, as everyone lets out a gasp in surprise.

"Imminent doom is about to rain down on all of us if we don't defeat it before it will infinitely charge up... And by that point, we might all be considered dead." Hibiki explained, shifting her eyes downward, as if she was disappointed in defeating it before it had reached this point.

"No way...!" Arianna shuttered, trying not to cry upon hearing the Forest Girl's explanation. "Then... did we really just come here to die to some unholy abomination?" Magnus questioned, clenching his fists in anger.

"After all, it seemed like it recovered some of the damage that was dealt to it..." Macerio added, further adding to the distraught and worry on everyone. Although Hibiki did not state how long it will take it, they have no idea when its gonna do exactly that.

"To hell with that logic." Korey blinked, seeming to recall a similar situation in Gladshiem weeks before the trip to High Lagaard. Simon's words still lingered in his head...

"Even if we're running out of time, we must still do something to prevent the end of Etria. I've lost my hometown because of this mechanism, but I will not let another town suffer the same incident. Not ever again... That's why we're in this together. We won't stop until we've stopped the threat to our world."

The amount of care the Midgard Library's Medic expressed in his words on that day still had a place in the Highlander's heart. Glancing at his spear, where an old friend once sacrificed her life to empower him... For some reason, gave him a sense of calming. Even when told that they were nearing death's doorstep, he found the thought of fighting in a dire situation to be calming. He blinked, eyes fueling with an undying flame.

"Even if it may cost our lives... Even if I might never see my loved one ever again..." Korey began, soon pointing his spear towards the almighty creature. "No matter what the enemy may do to break us down... the future is always ours to shape!" Axel and Lynus looked at the determined Highlander, seeing his confidence unflinching from the Ur-Devil's clear motive.

"I'm not giving up. I've made it clear once before, that no matter what the enemy is, we'll be there to strike them down. If we give in to fear, we won't accomplish anything. That is why... despite everything... I still fight. Not just for me, but for everyone I care for - to make everyone happy!"

Hibiki simply stares in awe of the Highlander's determination. Nobody dared to oppose his words, as silence filled the battlefield, before Axel approaches the Highlander, causing him to look at the Landsknecht.

"You know," Axel began. "you might have to work a bit on your motivational speeches. But if there's one thing we can agree on, is the safety of those we cherish. I've missed Lynus so much in the past, I thought I'd never really see him again. But we're together now, and that's one thing I don't want to lose. So we'll help too."

Axel places a hand on the Highlander's shoulder, giving him a confident smile. Fafnir soon approaches, as Korey's eyes turn to face him. "Honestly, meeting you was, as they say, chosen by destiny." Fafnir began, chuckling at the mere idea of saying that line.

"But those you care for can't be chosen by such a fate. It's something we make as we travel, or grow up with each other. And there are those that I wish to protect, especially Flavio and Arianna. Of course, now that I'm cursed to wander forever, it might not be a great thing, but I'm willing to set that aside to be with the friends and ones that I care about." Fafnir bravely spoke, feeling like contributed to the speech department.

Korey felt like he was leading an army, but that didn't stop him from giving the Fafnir Knight a brotherly hug. Although Fafnir questioned to himself why he would do it, he simply placed an arm around Korey's back and returned with a hug. If they were going down, best to go down as close friends than mere strangers to each other's past.

"Art thou really willing to go through with this?" Hibiki's voice brought Korey's attention to her, as he replied, in the arms of Fafnir, "We've come so far. To stop now would not only waste resources, but we also risk other explorers to die to this thing." Korey began, soon being freed of Fafnir's bro-hug.

"So that's why, despite knowing that I may die..." He continued, moving aside his his brown hair, soon charging towards Ur-Devil.

"I will fight for everyone's happiness!"

[maskehase]

OROSOROS

Ox and Monkey stood together in the library. Shelves crammed with books faced them on all sides.

Monkey turned. "Which volume did you say you're looking for, again?"

Ox seemed not to have heard.

"Ox?"

"Hm?"

"I asked, which volume are you looking for?"

Ox returned a blank stare.

"I don't remember the title... the cover was green... or, maybe, it might have been red... the author had a name that sounded something like 'Johnson'... or it might have been 'Jackson'... or 'Anderson'... or 'Alexander'..."

Ox ambled toward the nearest shelf and began to scan down a row of spines. Monkey went to the opposite shelf. Most of the books' labels were too worn to be legible. Those which could still be read suggested either that all of the books in this room had been misshelved or that the library had no shelving system at all. The latter, thought Monkey, seemed more likely. Indeed, in all the time he and Ox had spent trawling through the library, through basements and sub-basements, through archival stacks and back rooms filled with card catalogs and filing cabinets, through sub-sub basements filled with filing cabinets for back rooms' archival card catalogs, he had seen little to indicate that any order existed within the library at all. Despite this, Ox never tired of her search. Now, eyeing the shelves in the remotest corner of the library's third sub-sub-sub-sub-basement, she seemed neither nearer nor farther from her goal than she had at the start of the quest.

"Oh, I do wish I could remember where I put it! My memory used to be so keen that I never needed to organize, I knew exactly where everything went without any labels at all. But then the collection started to get so big, and by the time I knew what was what with the labels there was just too much and it was all out of order already! I tried to keep up, but then I lost track of the labels, too, so I had to make labels for the labels, and then labels for those labels, and then I lost track of everything. Oh! But I remember the name of the author! It was 'Benson'. No, wait, it was 'Borgeson'... actually, no, it was 'Boris'... or was it just..."

The falling books gave Ox no time to finish her thought. At the time he slid the conspicuous tome from its place against the wall, Monkey had not suspected that it was a load-bearing book, but it made its nature plain in an instant, as the entire set of shelves collapsed sideways without its support. When the dust settled and only the books seemed worse for the collapse, Ox noticed the door set into the wall behind the shelf.

"I certainly don't remember THAT!"

Monkey inspected the door. Its grainy surface pattern indicated that it was wooden, but it was painted in the same peeling off-white shade that coated the surrounding brick walls. It had no doorknob, but a small recess flush with the surface of its right-hand side suggested that it might slide open to the left. Monkey stepped toward the door, grabbed the sunken handle, and pushed.

He had expected that in a moment the flickering fluorescence of the hallway would fill the darkness of another forgotten storage closet, but was taken aback when a beam of bright light poured out from behind the door. After a minute, his eyes adjusted to the glare and he gazed beyond the door’s frame, straight into the face of a snake.

It was a statue, but Monkey's shock was real.

A coil of shining metal descended from behind the statue's large bright head, wrapping around a pillar of wood and leaving the tip of its tail hanging at the midway point of the pole. Four electric lamps blazed above, one hanging at each corner of the square metal ceiling, and around them the wood-paneled walls bristled with paper sheets. Evidently someone had nailed these reams of paper to the walls and then drawn on each sheet a letter in red ink, so that each door-less wall bore a grid of leaves marked with the pattern:

SATOR AREPO TENET OPERA ROTAS

As Monkey stepped through the doorway he recognized the papers as book pages. On closer inspection they were pages lifted from a Bible, or rather from three separate Bibles, one for each wall, though he could not recognize any of their versions. On each wall the arrangement of pages was the same, Monkey observed. The text of each version was different, but on each wall the page numbers were arranged in the pattern:

63, 1, 28, 11, 50 17, 60, 39, 6, 62 58, 59, 61, 65, 64 72, 56, 105, 66, 57 116, 111, 94, 121, 83

Ox stepped into the room after Monkey. "Now that I think about it, this room feels familiar after all. I think the book might be here! Or, directions to the book were stored here... or, the book has a set of directions leading here? Anyway, this place has something to do with the book... what's that on the post?"

Monkey quit studying the papers on the wall and turned toward Ox, who was staring at three leaves fastened with as many nails to the trunk of the centerpiece sculpture. As he approached he saw that these pages were covered with red ink handwriting, marked not with one large letter each like the pages on the walls had been, but with normally-sized text. He lifted one page's bottom edge and stooped to read:

I have reached a conclusion which may be of some interest to you. You might be familiar with the concept of a palindrome, but if you are not, then allow me to provide an example for your instruction:

SATOR AREPO TENET OPERA ROTAS

This phrase, which contains the same ordered sequence of twenty-five letters when read from the first to the twenty-fifth as when read from the twenty-fifth to the first, is a palindrome. It is a particularly exceptional palindrome at that, as it may be reformatted to form the "magic square" which is palindromic both horizontally and vertically, the same forwards as it is backwards along two axes:

SATOR AREPO TENET OPERA ROTAS

Additionally, the phrase's evenly alternating pattern of vowels and consonants makes it exceptionally pronounceable and mnemonic, and lends it easily to reshaping in the form of other palindromic squares. For instance, if the outer ring of letters is omitted, then the five-by-five square collapses into a pronounceable three-by-three square:

REP ENE PER

If the median ring of letters and the vowels of the outer ring are removed, the five-by-five square collapses into an unpronounceable three-by-three square:

STR TNT RTS

If the five-by-five square is collapsed inward from its upper-left and lower-right corners, the following pronounceable three-by-three arrangement results:

SOR ONO ROS

Here the form of the palindrome becomes most significant. The palindrome, a string of characters which is identical forwards and backwards and which forever returns to the spot at which it began, evokes infinity, and mimics the form of a circle. The palindrome square, having both horizontal and vertical extent as a circle does, illustrates the circular nature of the palindrome more fully. The letter O, which also takes the shape of a circle, naturally echoes the form of the palindrome. Thus, modifying the original magic square such that the phrase it displays remains pronounceable while the letter O takes emphasis as the marker of the horizontal and vertical extent of the palindrome's circle will bring the form of the palindrome to fuller expression. This suggests an alternate reading of the palindrome itself, taking the letter O as an appropriate marker of its beginning and reading in a clockwise fashion around the perimeter of the square to complete one cycle with this as the result:

OROSOROS

This text is not fully palindromic, but shares with the palindrome a cyclical structure and the potential for endless repetition. This suggestion of infinity is strengthened when the form of the palindrome is rightly shifted from that of a square to that of a circle, as it is in the illustration on the page to the left of this one. There the letters on the edge are aligned in a ring rather than in rows and columns and are arranged like the letters around the perimeter of a compass, with their uppermost points angled toward the edge of the circle and their lowermost points toward its central letter N. The palindrome reaches its clearest possible expression when letters cease to exist as discrete elements and instead are woven together as calligraphy, the curve of the O leading into the bend of the S leading into the arch of another O leading into the spokes of an R and then back again, on each side, like the two halves of a lemniscate feeding into one another. Such a figure is displayed on the page to the right of this one. At this extreme of expression the distinction between representation and embodiment dissolves, and the figure shimmers with oscillation between the dual functions of object and symbol, simultaneously one and the other, neither and both.

Monkey squinted at the page, unsure of what he had just read. Then he scrutinized the leaves to its left and right, noting that the design on the former did indeed resemble a compass, but the latter's calligraphic sigil simply looked like two knotted red worms devouring each other. Grotesque. Nothing in it shimmered. Only the statue shimmered, perching above Monkey on the pole. Two empty black slit-pupils stared down at him, silent and inert.

Quickly Monkey turned to Ox, who had shifted her attention to the pages on the walls. Now she shuffled from corner to corner, lost in thought, touching one page and another, tracing lines in her mind's eye as she rotated her head slowly, deliberately, from side to side, as though returning to a long-neglected habit. She seemed distant, away in a world of her own, moving at a steady pace toward a goal that whispered recognition into the features of her face. Something was departing from her, or filling her, leaving hints that built upon each other like pen strokes on a page. Just as her face was at its brightest and the last "t" seemed about to be crossed, Monkey spoke.

"You said it was green?"

Ox gave a start. Instantly the knowledge left her body.

She turned to Monkey.

"What?"

"The cover of the book you were looking for. It was green?"

"What book?"

"I was helping you find a book. You said that its cover was green."

"Were you? Did I?"

“Yeah. We've been searching for hours now. You said the volume had a green cover.”

Ox contorted her features in thought.

“Yes, I remember now. The cover was green... the author's name was... sounded something like... “Johnson”... yes... I remember...”

"Well, we won't find it in here. There are no books in this room with green covers."

"Right... you're right... yes...”

Ox hobbled over to Monkey, who offered her his hand. She took it, and together they made their slow way back out of the room, into the hallway where Monkey turned and, after one last glance at the gleaming serpent, slid the door shut.

Without a word, he began to lead Ox toward the staircase down to the next sub-basement.

---

(Magritte, René. La Maison De Verre. 1939.)

[warlock-enthusiast]

bravery

fifth entry for fictober :D

my d&d druid Phedre and a borrowed @feylen ‘s Nithys <3

Phedre wrapped her arms around herself and hummed to herself. A half forgotten lullaby, which had been sung by her father and mother and the members of her clan. It spoke of an elven hero and love and bravery and helped with calming her frayed mind. Nowadays, there seemed to be sadness hidden in the melody and a note of loss. Like a thief grief had crawled into her thoughts and left its taint on everything.

“Just be brave. It’s not hard.” Her short nails dug into her skin and she wished to transform herself in some sort of animal, stronger and bigger than herself. A wolf, whose fangs tore to flesh and bone, or a raven, whose wings could carry her away. Maybe an elemental. Just not herself.

Phedre pressed her back against a marble column and watched the celebrations. All those people cheerfully sipping away their wine. She saw Alessa and Draven, close to each other and whispering and very unsure, if they were in love or not, and nobles from all regions. Not that she cared much about their names and families, or they silken robes and golden chains.

Putting one foot in front of the other helped and Phedre came to stay at a near window. Her breathing became regular again as soon as she felt the air on her face. Stars danced on a dark sky and fireworks dampened their shine. Cheerful voices and laughter filled the air and one laughter sounded brighter than anything else.

Nithys.

Clad in a tight dress and with her hair woven into elaborate braids, she looked more beautiful than ever. When she closed her eyes, she could still feel the soft hair between her fingers and the slender neck beneath her palm. Flower petals on the ground.

Phedre waited and watched people come and go and she saw Nithys’ shoulder stiffen more than once. The palace brought a lifetime of memories back to light. Time flowed throught her fingers. Her feet started to hurt and her throat got dry. She drank a wine or two and felt the blush creeping into her cheeks. Though, it dulled the nervous fluttering in her stomach.

“Are you enjoying the evening?” Nithys’s smile was warm and a welcome. Phedre put her arms in front of her chest, as if trying to protect herself from an unseen foe. Nithys on the other hand, acted as graceful and polite as always. Not a single strand of hair out of place. 

Phedre’s heart seemed to burst at any given moment. With her sweaty palms and quivering voice, she’d never fit in. Not here.

“No.” Phedre shook her head, before correcting herself..

“I meant… yes… yes, of course. I’m sorry. It’s all very grand?”

Nithys hid her laughter behind her hand. “But the food is very tasty. You have to applaud their love for small details. ”

“Yes.” Phedre didn’t trust her own stomach and had only nibbled on a bit of cheese and fruit. Combined with the wine, it seemed to cause her lightheadedness. 

Maybe now was a moment to be brave? They stood out of sight and most of the guests looked too deep into their cups, swaying on their feet or dancing to the tunes of the gathered bards.

“Once, just once. I promise.” And Phedre got on her tiptoes and kissed her. Nothing more than a quick peck on the lips and a second of regret and butterflies. Nithys tasted like honey. And wine. All traces of bravery left her then and a sudden chill made her shudder. Sshe didn’t dare to look into the tiefling’s face.

“I’m sorry.” And Phedre ran away.

[geekade]

Zwia Reviews: Valerian and the City of a Thousand Planets a.k.a. Valerian and the Eyebrows that are more Interesting than Most of the Movie

Valerian… oh boy… Let's get into a quick little history lesson here people. Don’t worry, it’ll be fun and YES it is important to the review. Oh, but first, because I love to sum up my feelings of the movie early just in case you’re pressed for time, YES this movie is neat LOOKING. NO it isn’t very “good.” It’s watchable, but make sure the lights are on and you aren’t laying down.

ANYWAY, HISTORY!!!! Valerian and the City of a Thousand Planets is based on the the French comic Valerian and Laureline. This comic started in the late 1960’s, is a crazy sci-fi sort of space opera with time travel and multidimensional stuff… ANDDDDD helped inspire little movies like The Fifth Element and STAR-FUCKING-WARS. So this comic is kind of a big fucking deal. Now, the reason this is important to bring up is that Valerian probably would be a much more impressive movie if so much that made it impressive wasn’t already ingrained into pop culture about 40 years ago thanks to Star Wars. Basically, Valerian does a bunch of cool stuff, but it's all old and unimpressive by today’s standards because it's all been done before, and done better. In Star Wars. For example, you know how Ghost in the Shell’s original story brought up the whole questions of identity and humanity and what that means for robots and AI… but then those ideas inspired things like The Matrix that took it further and when Ghost in the Shell finally made a mainstream live-action movie, it basically got beaten to the punch by it’s own idea child? Yeah, we basically have that with Valerian.

The creatures, the potentially untrustworthy government, the space battles… its nice but nothing super special. Even the designs of many of the suits are all very Star Wars-esque. Which again, is sad, because if anything, Star Wars should be in Valerian's shadow. But that’s not even its biggest problem. I mean The Force Awakens is just A New Hope-Super HD Edition, but I enjoy that just fine. No, Valerian’s biggest problem is its actors and script. Dane DeHaan plays Valerian and Cara Delevingne plays Laureline, the two main characters. I made sure to put an eyebrow joke in the title of this review, so you’re not getting any more. I’m sorry. I need to keep this at least somewhat classy... 

But Holy shit the two of them, if they had a kid, that kid would have the most damn distinct eyebrows ever. You could see them from space. He’d never need a visor because the eyebrows alone would protect his eyes. He would need to make sure he only washed them once a week because they would take forever to dry. Moving on… so I LOVE these two. I cannot explain why, but these two actors I just can’t help but root for. It might be because I’ve followed their careers pretty closely and yet have never REALLY fully enjoyed a single movie either have been in. Admittedly, I’ve yet to see A Cure for Wellness, so there is still hope, but GOSH I just feel like they both get cast in such shit movies. The streak continues with Valerain, and most of the fault is with these two. They are both… not fantastic in this movie. I can’t really describe it easily but the best I can come up with is that their acting is like… they are trying to always remain cool and calm and collected the entire movie, but they do it very dramatically. Like, if you really like a person and you’re trying to talk to them but you’re trying really hard to act like it’s not a big deal and it's kinda over-emphasizing how not a big deal you’re making it… which of course is making it a super obvious big fucking deal??? Yeah, that’s them. THE ENTIRE MOVIE.

Even when one of them appears to be dead, the other is all like “Get up” But calmly… but still not? Also, they sound like every line of theirs was dubbed over in post… like the ENTIRE movie. Now, to get further into my problems with them, I have to delve into the OTHER major flaw in the movie… THE SCRIPT. Damn this movie is poorly written. For starters, when it comes to our leads, I’m still pretty unsure if they were terrible because the acting was bad or just the writing for them was so bad it made the acting seem bad. There’s really no way to know for sure. But someone fucked up somewhere. And these leads??? Let me sum up EVERYTHING they say the entire movie (Don’t worry, I won’t spoil anything here) Movie starts: Main actors talk about each other, summarizing exactly who they are and what their personalities are supposed to be so that the audience knows. No really, the first two minutes of these two is them walking around a spaceship telling us EXACTLY who they are. Thanks. Then the rest of the movie is either action scene after action scene OR the two main characters alone with each other in which cases it's Valerian being all “Hey, Laureline, we both dig each other. We should get married.” Responded by Laureline “No way. You have commitment issues”  Over. And over. And over. Come on guys! This can’t be all your characters have to offer!!! PLEASEEEEE have more substance than this!!! There IS a small piece of character growth for both… but it’s very small and results in literally a single conversation between the two of them that changes both of their minds on two small things. But that’s all we get. Otherwise the characters you got in the beginning… same ones you're getting in the end.

Oh, and while we’re on the script of endless pointless action scenes interrupted by creeper trying to marry his partner, let's talk about the villain. The villain of the movie is supposed to be a big reveal towards the end of the movie. I’m not going to tell you who it is. But the minute you see him, you’ll have figured out the big reveal. Awesome job movie. Totally saw every plot point coming from like a mile away. Thanks. God damn. Also, pretty much EVERY plot point ever gets explained directly to the camera… even though you could already see it so you KNEW already… except one thing at the end. The thing that makes NO DAMN SENSE and I NEEDED it explained… but oh NOW you’re gonna let us figure it out for ourselves???? Fuck you, movie and you’re indecisive exposition. Fuck you! (What, there are kids reading this? Nonsense, no one ACTUALLY reads my reviews. You cray-cray) This pisses me off. You have to understand. I LOVE The Fifth Element, and Luc Besson made The Fifth Element BECAUSE he couldn’t make Valerian and Laureline at the time. THIS is pretty much his life’s goal and… it’s just so damn disappointing. It's gorgeous, don’t get me wrong, and I’m not saying it doesn't still have really neat original ideas, because it totally does! The beginning of the movie has a whole chase scene that spans multiple dimensions and I thought it was the COOLEST THING!!!! But THAT level of creativity disappears pretty damn quickly and becomes nothing but a terribly acted, predictable slog of a movie. Amazing atmosphere, and some really cool stuff and characters… but we never get to focus on the cool characters or places. There’s this whole giant epic space station, and we’re stuck in basically the sewers of it… with the eyebrow patrol. Meanwhile, we get teased with these crafty information merchant goblin things, and Rihanna’s character Bubble, who was both more interesting and way better portrayed, (Seriously, Rihanna did the best performance of the entire movie) but we only see them for at best a handful of minutes. I guess I just expected more. Something more interesting or fun, and I just got… i don't know. But I know there is way more to the Valerian franchise, so while I can’t suggest you see this movie I DO hope it does well enough for further installments. I’d still like to see Dane and Cara, I’d still like to see this universe, and I’d still like to see what COULD be around the corner (Please some damn time travel stories) So yeah, I can’t with a clear conscience suggest this movie to you. Take a chance on Dunkirk or Baby Driver instead. But I also wouldn’t mind this movie making enough to warrant a sequel. I think he future of the Valerian universe has enough to offer, and I certainly would like to see Luc, Cara, and Dane get a win for once. They try so hard.