#the pendulum will swing in our favor again | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

inkedroplets · 3 years ago

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Trick or Treat (Supercorptober-adjacent)

This is technically an old (and still in progress) fic but since it fit the Supercorptober theme, I didn't see the harm in posting it again. It will also be the kick in the pants I need to finish my last two chapters.

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We’re not OK, are we?

It was a miracle that Lena saw the email at all. She only ever checked her email infrequently, often going weeks or in this case, months without ever opening it. The only person who contacted her was Sam and while they exchanged pleasantries now and again, the brunt of their communication consisted of Sam keeping her up to date on the comings and goings at L-Corp. Not that Lena was all that interested these days. She had walked away from the company, leaving Sam to take over in her stead. That hadn’t been the only thing she had left behind. She had walked away from National City, had walked away from the people she thought were her friends, had walked away from Kara… Sometimes it felt like no time at all had passed between then and now but it had been ten years which made the reason for Sam’s email all the more puzzling. Why now? she wondered.

Dear Lena, I hope you’ve been well. I wish that this was your regularly scheduled pop-in that I’m sure you just love. Ruby and I are doing just fine. Her a little more than me and that’s exactly why I’m emailing you. Lillian came out of the woodwork a few weeks ago and made a grab for L-Corp. With as many lawyers as we have on retainer, I assumed that they would be able to deal with it without much fuss but it looks like she might have some ground to stand on. The news hasn’t gone public yet but I’m sure it will soon enough.

Lillian’s using your absence to try and sow discord with the shareholders and I’m sorry to say that it’s working. The Luthor name still holds weight and while I’m sure you knew, some on the board weren’t thrilled with the direction you took the company. They can evidently hold a grudge. The lawyers are gearing up for a slog and if I thought we’d come out the other side fine I would never even think about bothering you. But if stock prices tumble any lower it might be enough to swing some on the fence to their side and force me out. I have a lovely retirement package all lined up but I doubt you want the company falling into Lillian’s hands. Would it be too much to ask you to come back to National City for a week or two? No one can handle Lillian as well as you can and reminding everyone that you’re simply retired and not dead would do a lot to swing the pendulum in our favor. You don’t have to, of course. I know you left for a reason and I feel bad for asking you back to help solve a problem that I should be able to handle on my own. All the best Sam P.S. How’s Fi?

She re-read the email twice before powering down her laptop, staring at the blank screen and her reflection in it. If not for Sam, Lena would have been sorely tempted to simply let Lillian have the company. She had missed a lot of things in her ten years away from National City but dealing with her mother was not among them. Returning there now to get into what promised to be a drag-out fight with Lillian was the last thing that she wanted to do but what choice did she have? Whatever reason that Lillian had for trying to regain control of L-Corp, Lena knew that nothing good could come from it. She needed to go back, no matter how much she didn’t want to.

She powered on her laptop, opened up Sam’s email again, and typed out a very short message. Sam,

I’m sorry that I’m only just seeing your email now. I’ll be on a flight to National City as soon as I can, tomorrow at the earliest. Try not to let Lillian get under your skin too much, it’s what she wants. Fi’s doing well, you can see for yourself soon enough. Lena

Was that why you’re doing this? Lena wondered. To get under my skin? That seemed as good a guess as any but she knew how pointless it was to waste time speculating. She would know soon enough. Right now, she was more concerned about Fi and what to do about her. If she doesn’t want to go then we won’t go, Lena told herself. I’ll do what I can from here and if I can’t stop Lillian from taking back the company, I’ll do my best to make her work for it. She stood up, rubbing at her neck, working out the kink that had already started to settle there. Gone were the days that she could spend all day working on her laptop until an ungodly hour, sleep far too little, and somehow find the energy to do it all over again the next day. She thought that she might sleep well tonight if only out of necessity. She might very well be leaping back into the lion’s den after so many years away. And this time with a child in tow…

It seemed the textbook definition of insanity to bring Fi intentionally into Lillian’s orbit. She wasn’t sure if Lillian knew that she was now living in Ireland or if she had simply never bothered to look for her. She hadn’t left a forwarding address when she left National City but she hadn’t made an effort to cover her tracks either. Her exile had been of the self-imposed variety, at least that’s what she had thought of it at first. I’m too old for this shit, Lena thought, a very wry smile on her lips. She padded down the hall towards her bedroom and stopped at the room right next to hers. The door was covered so completely in drawings that Lena almost had trouble finding the handle. She turned the knob silently and opened the door just a crack so she could peek in on the young girl dozing in a bed that would take her several years to grow into, her raven-colored hair spread out in a corona on her pillow.

Lena smiled, happy to see her sleeping peacefully. She shut the door, lingered there for a moment to make sure that there was no interruption in Fi’s rhythmic breathing, and padded the rest of the way down to her bedroom not feeling the least bit tired. When Lena awoke the next morning she wasn’t at all surprised to see that Fi had climbed into bed with her and had a book open on her lap. This was their morning routine and Lena found it infinitely better than waking to the sound of an alarm Their eyes met and Lena snaked a hand out from under her blankets to ruffle Fi’s hair, pressing her hand gently to Fi’s cheek. “How did you sleep, my treasure?”

“Good,” she said and turned a page of her book. “Me too,” Lena lied. She had fallen asleep sometime just before dawn. She felt more confused than tired but she didn’t let it show on her face. “What page are you on?” Lena asked, sitting up and leaning in close to get a glimpse of Fi’s book. “This one,” Fi said, smiling shyly and turning the book towards her. “Eighteen flavors?” Lena nodded her approval. That poem was the one Fi most requested when she read her a story from Where the Sidewalk Ends. “That must have made you hungry,” she joked. “Let's go get you some breakfast and me some coffee. No ice-cream though, at least not for breakfast.” That got Fi giggling and she carefully closed the book, trapping a small flower-shaped bookmark between the pages. Lena stood up and felt the cold seep into her through her bare feet. She scooped Fi up in her arms and padded down the hall towards their small kitchen. Cooking had never been what Lena considered one of her strong points but with nothing but time on her hands and especially after finding herself caring for a child, she had picked up a few tricks along the way. Not that she was likely to need any of them in the morning. “Cereal?” Lena asked, setting Fi down. Fi nodded and pulled her chair back from the table before clambering into it effortlessly. “Semi-healthy,” she asked, holding up one box. “Or unhealthy? She held up a far more colorful box in her other hand and pretended to look shocked when Fi chose the far less healthy option. “Good choice.” She set the box down on the table, grabbing a bowl and spoon for Fi, setting them down in front of her. “We’re almost out of milk,” Lena said, taking the carton from the fridge and giving it a shake. She instinctively went to add it to the grocery list she kept attached to the fridge before she remembered that they might not even be here tomorrow. “Fi?” Fi had just finished carefully pouring cereal for herself and looked up at Lena, almost looking nervous. “What do you think about going on a little vacation?” Lena asked, busying herself with the espresso machine. “A vacation?” Lena nodded. “I got an email from an old friend of mine. She needs my help with something back in National City…” “Where you used to live.” “Before I came here, yes.” Lena smiled. She took her coffee, walked over to the table, and pulled her chair out before sitting down. “If you wanted to come with me I thought we could take a trip there. Just for a week, maybe two. But if you don’t feel up to it, we don’t have to go. I’m sure I can be plenty helpful working from here.” I could put inconveniencing Lillian under the special skills section on my resume, she thought. I’d have a ten-year gap in my work history that would be rather hard to explain, of course.

Fi swirled her spoon around her bowl, looking first at the calendar on the far wall and then to Lena. “When would we leave?” “Today if we can manage it,” Lena said, already knowing that she would have no trouble securing tickets if she tried to get them. “Today…” Fi’s gaze returned to the calendar and so did Lena’s, comprehension dawning on her face after puzzling over Fi’s reluctance for a moment or two. “Halloween…” Fi looked embarrassed but nodded. “We would never miss that,” Lena assured her. She reached out and squeezed Fi’s arm gently. “We’d just have to do our trick-or-treating there.” She glanced out the window. “National City is a big place, you’re almost guaranteed to get more candy there.” The small town they lived in might have been a great deal friendlier than any city Lena had ever been in but she knew that even if they were to visit every single house on their route twice it would take them less than an hour and that was including the obligatory oohing and aahing over whatever costume that Fi picked out.

“But if you would rather stay here, Fi, that’s perfectly fine.” Lena hated the idea of whisking Fi off to National City if she didn’t want to go when Lena wasn’t all that certain she wanted to return. “I want to go,” Fi said, shaking a little more cereal into her bowl. “Are you sure?” Lena asked. Fi nodded. “I’m sure.” She looked up from her cereal bowl shyly. “How much more candy do you think I could get?” Lena looked at her over her coffee cup, not sure if she should laugh or not. “I’ll run the numbers and get back to you.” “I’ve never been on a plane,” Fi said, her bright smile dimming somewhat. “There’s nothing to it,” Lena said, not thinking now was the time to tell her that she didn’t like flying either. “And you’ll be right next to me.” She scooted her chair closer to Fi’s so that they were right next to one another. “Just like this.” Lena gave her a playful bump with her arm. “So if I snore on the plane you’ll need to wake me up so I don’t bother everybody else on board.” She made an exaggerated snoring noise that sent Fi into hysterics. “I’ll just let you sleep,” Fi assured her and made a similar snoring noise. “How very sweet of you,” Lena said and plucked a marshmallow from the top of Fi’s bowl and tossed it into her mouth. No backing out now, she thought, the gears in her head that had ground to an unwilling halt when she had drifted off before dawn starting up again. They might be able to make an afternoon flight if they were lucky but she would need to be quick. She took two hurried gulps of her coffee, nearly scalding her mouth in the process, and stood up from her chair. “I need to see what flight I can get us on. Can you go to your room and pick out some clothes and toys you want to take with us?” Fi stood up and nodded. She made a mad dash towards her room nearly tripping over her own feet when she came to a very sudden stop in the middle of the living room. “We didn’t buy my costume yet,” she said, looking worried again. Lena hadn’t forgotten. They had gone costume shopping a handful of times but each time they had, Fi hadn’t been able to definitively choose. She had come close the last time but indecision had won out. Now, with only a few days before Halloween, she would need to come to a decision soon. “Do you know what you want to be for Halloween?” Fi shook her head, looking far too distressed for one as young as seven. “You have the whole plane ride to decide,” Lena said, wanting to put her mind at ease. “And then we can go shopping once we land.” “Right after we land?” “If you’re not too tired? Right after we land.” That was likely a given. Fi was at that age where there were simply not enough hours in the day to completely tire her out no matter how valiantly Lena tried. Just last week they had spent nearly all day at the park and while Lena couldn’t remember ever feeling more tired, Fi had continued to run circles around her right up until her bedtime. “I won’t be,” Fi said, already running off again. “I might be,” Lena called after her, knowing she was too far away to hear her properly, smiling despite how nervous she felt. She was going back to National City. The thought didn’t fill her with dread as it might have years ago but she felt uneasy at the prospect of returning. What was the saying? You can’t go home again? Just like Wendy couldn’t return to Neverland, Lena felt like she had left that part of her life too firmly in the past to revisit it now. Even after all this time, Lena couldn’t be certain if it ever really was home to her but it was maybe the closest thing to one before she had moved here and found Fi.

How have you been? Lena wondered, putting her mug and Fi’s bowl in the sink, a hazy image of Kara and her standing in her old penthouse floating to her mind, the image becoming sharper and the memory beginning to play out in her head.

Ten years ago

“We’re not OK, are we?”

Kara had rehearsed this conversation in her head so many times and hated that she had already gone so far off-script. They had just met up the day before for lunch. Not exactly like old times but the closest that they’ve come to it in months. It’s how things had been since the two of them had begun the arduous process of easing back into a friendship that Kara had feared had been beyond repair.

They were talking again and Lena had even started coming to game nights again but Kara couldn’t shake the feeling that Lena was simply going through the motions. Her smile seemed so different and while Lena was more than happy to let Kara pull her into a hug, Lena never tried to hug her. It could have all been in her head. After months of barely speaking to one another, it would have been all too easy for her to manufacture a problem that wasn’t even there. She hoped that the look of polite confusion on Lena’s face at Kara’s strange question would morph into one of bewilderment. That whatever strangeness she felt was either all in her head or simply another bump in the road that they would need to get over. “No, Kara… We’re not OK.” There was no anger in her voice, in fact, to Kara’s ear it sounded completely devoid of emotion. Their eyes met for an instant and Lena stood up, crossing the room towards the balcony, and looked out over the city where the sun had just begun to sink below the horizon.

“I understand if you’re still angry.I’ve been rushing things, I know…” Alex had warned her of doing just that a number of times. She had been the lone holdout in the group that hadn’t quite yet forgiven Lena although she had for Kara’s sake at the very least been friendly when their paths had crossed. “If you need more time, Lena, I can give you as much as you need.” She smiled wanly. “It’s really no trouble.” You’re worth the wait. “I don’t think it’s just time I need Kara…” She took a deep breath and Kara could hear Lena’s heartbeat that she normally found so soothing, hammering at a frantic pace that was at odds with the almost serene expression on her face. “I’ve been trying, I really have been-” “I know you have,” Kara said quickly. “I have too.” Lena smiled. “I’ve noticed. And I’m grateful, Kara, I am. It’s just… It’s not that simple. I know that I can trust you again someday, Kara…” Her smile brightened and then dimmed like the shuddering flame of a candle. “But that’s not what I’m worried about. I don’t know if I can ever trust myself again. I loved you so much and I still hurt you… I lied to you for months, I used you.”

Loved? Not love?

I could have killed you at the Fortress.” “Lena, you were hurt and angry…” I was,” Lena said. “And a part of me still is. It wasn’t an excuse then and it isn’t one now.” She looked down at the floor, and Kara watched a tear slide down Lena’s cheek before dropping to the floor. “Who’s to say I won’t lash out again? Not ever try and hurt you again?” “You wouldn’t do that,” Kara said. She stood up, meaning to hug Lena, something she seemed to sense because Lena stuck an arm out as if to ward her off. “You don’t know that Kara and neither do I and that’s what scares me.” She looked at her reflection in the balcony door and turned away from it as if she could barely stand to look at herself. “I thought that I was different from Lex… That I was better… But maybe deep down I’m really not.” “No!-”

“If it was just time Kara…” She shook her head again. “I wish it was just time that I needed.”

It turned out that getting ready for and onto the flight to National City turned out to be far more of a white-knuckle experience than Lena had expected. The only tickets she could get that day were for a flight leaving in the early afternoon which gave her very little time to get both of them ready and to the airport.

Even as she tore through the house, first looking for both their passports and then pulling her luggage out of a hall closet that she hadn’t opened in years and running down the mental checklist of things she needed to do before they left, she was careful not to let the worry show on her face. The last thing she wanted to do was for Fi to worry before they even boarded the plane. Children seemed at both times oblivious and hyper-aware about such things and Lena was relieved to see that her panic about their trip hadn’t spilled over onto her. Fi appeared to be too preoccupied with choosing her costume to notice Lena’s unease about the trip.

It was only after they had boarded the plane and were getting settled into their seats that Fi seemed to realize that the thing they were sitting in was going to go up into the air before too long. Lena fastened Fi’s seatbelt, pulling it tight and making an exaggerated clicking noise with her mouth when the seatbelt latched that couldn’t quite entice a laugh out of Fi but it did get her to flash Lena a very weak smile. The logical part of Lena wanted to put Fi’s mind by assuring her that statistically flying was the safest way to travel but knew better than to frame it that way. It did little to put her mind at ease and doubted that it would do much for Fi. As it so often did, distraction seemed the far better option. “You know, I still need to pick a costume too,” Lena whispered, settling back in her seat. “Any suggestions?” Fi who had been looking straight ahead, kicking her feet nervously against the seat, stopped suddenly and turned to look at Lena appraisingly. “Maybe something scary,” Fi said. “But not too scary.” “Never,” Lena said, putting a hand on her chest as if such a thought were simply unfathomable. “We don’t want to scare everyone.” Not an easy thing to do when your last name is Luthor. “Or me,” Fi said and shook her head. “Or you,” Lena agreed. “ Hmm... “ She felt the plane give a little jerk as the pilot prepared for takeoff. “What about a witch?” “ Maybe… What kind of witch?” “Definitely a good witch, I don’t think that’s so scary.” No matter how much I might look the part of a bad one. “Like Glinda?” “Maybe a little less pink but somewhere in that general area, love.” She felt the plane begin to pick up speed and clasped one of Fi’s hands tightly in her own, squeezing it. “Wand or no wand?” Fi looked momentarily distracted, glancing out the window before returning her attention to Lena. “No wand,” she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re right,” Lena said, nodding in agreement. “But what about you, my treasure? Any clue what you want to go as?” Fi shook her head. “I think I need to see the costumes first.” Lena nodded wisely. “Never a good idea to rush.” “Mom?” “Hmm?” “We’re flying.” Fi pressed one hand to the window, peering down at the ground that Lena knew must have looked so far away already.

Lena took one of Fi’s hands and held it tightly. “Are you nervous?” Fi shook her head, still staring out the window. “It feels like magic.” It really can… Lena stroked Fi’s hair, settling back into her seat, feeling more at ease, not thinking of the science of flight but of how it felt to fly with Kara and how safe she felt in her arms…

True to form, Fi hopped off the plane fresh as a daisy while Lena zombie-shuffled through the airport the way she always did after a long flight. After a brief stop at a coffee shop in the terminal for a pick-me-up and to the service desk to rent a car they were on the road again. As they drove into the city, Lena felt pangs of familiarity as she spotted places and buildings that looked to have changed so very little in the time she had been away. It felt however briefly that she had never truly left. Not that she felt that way for long. The longer she drove the more it felt to her like she was playing a game of ‘Spot the Difference’. This was unquestionably National City but it was no longer her National City. Places, people, and businesses had come and gone during her time away and if asked a question about the city she would only be able to speak in the past tense.

She pulled into the parking lot of the first store that they happened across and walked inside, hand-in-hand with Fi, letting go of her hand only when she promised not to run and watched as she immediately broke that promise when she spotted the aisles devoted to Halloween supplies.

She’s going to run facefirst into a cart if she isn’t careful. Lena jogged after her, ready to scold her and finding it impossible to do so when she saw the look of wonder on her face she had from staring down the aisle at the sheer number of costumes she had to choose from.

Lena watched Fi reach instinctively for one of the costumes closest to her. She held it out to Lena and smiled. “This one is pretty.”

“It is pretty, but are you sure you want that one, Fi?” Lena knelt so that she and the young girl were at eye-level. She gestured down the aisle with one swoop of her arm. “Because there are so many costumes that you haven’t looked at yet. Why don’t we hang onto this one and wait and decide later?” She clutched the princess costume tighter, tapping one finger against her chin, thinking a long while before she held it out to Lena, smiling. “Can you hold onto it for me?” “It would be an honor,” Lena said and took it from her, draping it over her arm and shaking her head slightly when the girl immediately tore down the aisle, coming to a sudden stop only a few feet away. “I like this one too,” she said, pointing to a cowboy costume complete with miniature ten-gallon hat.

“You might be the first cowboy from Ireland, love, but you would look cute in that.” “Can you hold onto this one too?” she asked sweetly.

She already knows how to play me like a fiddle, Lena thought. “You think it’ll disappear if you turn around?” She shrugged and Lena took the costume off the rack, watching Fi return to browsing. Maybe should have snagged a cart, she thought. Lena watched Fi take off down the aisle, running far too fast for her liking, passing by several costumes that didn’t seem to catch Fi’s eye. A ghost, a witch, a zombie, a grim reaper, and a vampire. Lena was just about to tell her to slow down when Fi came skidding to a stop.

“Did you find another one you like?” Fi whipped around and nodded, beckoning Lena to join her. “I want this one,” she said confidently and pointed. Which one?” Lena tried to follow where Fi was pointing and knelt down again to try and follow where she was pointing. “This one,” Fi said and pointed again, this time tapping her finger against the costume. “That one…” Fi nodded, the bright smile on her face faltering somewhat when she saw the look on Lena’s face. “You don’t like it?” Lena blinked, shook her head, and smiled brightly, ruffling Fi’s hair. “Just want to make sure that’s the one you really want.” She held up her arms to show Fi the other costumes she had already picked out.

Fi looked at the costume in her hand, held it out, looked up solemnly at Lena, and nodded. “I’m sure.” Instead of handing it to Lena to hold she clutched the miniature Supergirl costume tight to her, mimicking how Lena had draped the princess costume over her arm. “Is it too expensive?” she asked, looking suddenly worried. Lena chuckled. “No, love, it isn’t too expensive.” She ruffled her hair and jerked her head back in the direction they had started. “Let’s put these back and see if we can find something that I can wear.” There was no shortage of witch costumes for Lena to choose from although most of them would have shown a bit too much leg considering how cold Halloween was supposed to be. She settled on an emerald green cloak that was not only more sensible but would offer her at least a modicum of protection against the wind if Halloween night turned out to be a cold one. “We’ll just tell people I’m a good witch if they ask,” Lena said when they had climbed back into the car. It will be up to them if they choose to believe me or not she thought. “They’ll know,” Fi said confidently. She was still clutching the Supergirl costume, turning it over to get a better look at the cape. “I like your confidence.” Lena grinned and pulled out of the parking lot and back out onto the busy street. “I know you still have plenty of gas in the tank but I’m ready to drop,” Lena said, punching at the car’s GPS to get directions to the hotel she had made reservations with before they had left.

“I’m a little tired too,” Fi said. “That’s a first,” Lena said. “I was starting to think that I adopted a very adorable robot who had no need for sleep.” “Beep.” Fi giggled and went back to fiddling with the radio.

Fi had been more than a little tired. She was sound asleep when Lena arrived at the hotel and remained so up until Lena tucked her into bed. She woke up just long enough to smile sleepily at Lena who pressed a kiss to her forehead. Lena lingered in the doorway before shutting the door behind her. She knew that Fi wouldn’t be down for long and if she were smart she would get a nap in before then but first, she needed to make a call. Not even sure if the number that she had programmed into her phone was correct, she held the phone away from her ear and listened to it ring a handful of times before she heard someone pick up. “ Hello?” “Sam?” There was silence on the other end of the phone and Lena shifted the phone to her other ear. “Lena?” “Hi.” “Hi yourself…” Lena heard the sound of a door closing and guessed that Sam had just closed her office door.

“I’m back,” she said, barely able to believe it herself. “Welcome back.” “It would be a lot better if I wasn’t coming back to send my mother crawling back into whatever hole she crawled out of.” “Preaching to the choir,” Sam said and let out a beleaguered sigh. “ I went back and forth on even reaching out to you about it… Have you ever seen a lawyer cry?” She groaned. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m really happy to actually hear your voice but I just wish you were coming back because you wanted to and not because I had to go running for the teacher.” “Don’t make it sound like you put a gun to my head, Sam. I always meant to come back and visit…” She was sure that it sounded to Sam just as sincere as someone telling a coworker on their last day to ‘keep in touch’ but Lena truly meant it. “Maybe I needed the kick in the ass.” “Maybe.”

“How’s Ruby?” “Living it up in Metropolis,” she said and Lena could hear the careful politeness fade from Sam’s voice sounding much more like the Sam she used to know. “ There’s still a Ruby-shaped hole in our apartment wall from when she got the acceptance letter into university there. Getting her to visit me on weekends is like pulling teeth but she calls almost every night. Sometimes I think she just wants to brag about how much fun she’s having,” Sam joked.

Is that what I have to look forward to with Fi? Lena wondered. “And how are things at L-Corp?” Sam sighed and Lena could have sworn she could hear the clink of a bottle, wondering if Sam hadn’t just poured herself a drink. “About the same. We haven’t gone to trial yet but we will. Lillian has all the support she needs to escalate things but she hasn’t yet. I think she’s just having too much fun playing with her food.”

Lena made a face. “Not that my mother doesn’t love reveling in misery but it doesn’t really sound like her. She’d much rather gloat after she’s won.” “I’m not complaining, it’s given us time to try and get a defense cobbled together and for me to get off my high horse and call in the cavalry.” Lena laughed, covering her mouth so as not to wake Fi. “Please tell me you’re not talking about me. I’m a decade out of practice when it comes to sparring with my mother. I don’t know if I’ll be the help you’re hoping for but I’ll do what I can.” “Either way, I get to see you again. Win-win, in my book.”

“Spending time with me is not all it's cracked up to be,” Lena said. “You already got me on the plane, no need to keep buttering me up.” “Take the compliment,” Sam insisted. “Is the munchkin with you?” “Napping right now, which means I should be too, she’ll have me up half the night I’m sure.” “ Like an angel, I’m sure. Don’t let me keep you. I have to fly out to Keystone City tonight to finish closing a deal otherwise I’d want to see you tomorrow. I’ll be there through Halloween. Is it alright with you if we meet up on the first? I can give you a better rundown of what’s happened before you actually have to see Lillian.” “That’s fine. Gives me a couple of days to get settled and Fi would be heartbroken if we didn’t get to go trick-or-treating.”

“What’s she dressing up as?” “Supergirl,” Lena said, shaking her head a little, still in disbelief that Fi had chosen that costume out of all the others there. “She’s going to look so adorable. I’m going to want to see pictures. I would suggest keeping an eye on her though. There are going to be hundreds of Supergirls running around come Halloween night. Don’t want to lose her in the crowd.” Lena smiled. That sounds about right. “I always do,” Lena said. “But thanks for the tip.”

“Speaking of Supergirl… I know that she’d love to know you were back. She’s still using her same number. If she didn’t drop her phone in a puddle last year she might still be using the same phone too...” Sam made a noise that Lena took to mean she found such behavior more confusing than charming. “I’m not back, Sam,” Lena said patiently. “Not for too long anyway.” “All the more reason to call her. I’ll text you later if that’s alright with you…” “Of course, it is, Sam.” She felt a pang of guilt that Sam thought she even needed to ask for permission first. She was Lena’s one remaining link to her old life in National City and while their emails to one another were sparse and never very detailed, she did still consider her a friend although how good of a friend that Lena had been to Sam was extremely debatable which made her all the more determined to clean up Lillian’s mess for her. “Go sleep. If Fi is anything like Ruby was at that age, she’ll be up in less than an hour ready to take on the world.” “I will. Have a safe flight, Sam. It’s good to hear your voice again.” “I’d say the same thing but there’s a video of you that we show to all the new hires… It’s only been a week or so since I’ve watched it last… But it is good to talk to you again Lena, I missed you.” “Missed you too.” Lena ended the call, setting her phone down on the table and stared at it before slipping back into the bedroom and laying down beside Fi. She was sure that what Sam had said was true, Fi’s batteries would be at full charge in no time. Lena didn’t expect to be able to sleep very long but she needed to get what she could now. Get her head a little clearer for what was to come. Just a day ago, her life’s biggest worry was what candy to leave out in front of their house for any would-be trick-or-treaters and now she had to deal with this mess that her mother had made on top of everything else… She closed her eyes, felt herself already starting to drift, and instead of fighting it, let herself sink deeper and was asleep within seconds.

The weather on Halloween was just as cold as the forecast had predicted and Lena and Fi had only walked a block before Lena put the hood of her cloak up in an effort to keep her ears from freezing. She tried to coax Fi into putting on a hat but she had steadfastly refused, crossing her arms in front of her and shaking her head. “Supergirl doesn’t wear a hat,” she said, prancing along beside Lena, her treat bag banging against her knee. “How do you know?” Lena asked, still clutching the hat tightly in her right hand. “Pictures,” she said and held her arms out in front of her running ahead of Lena for a while before falling back to Lena’s side. You might have me there, Lena thought. “Supergirl also doesn’t catch colds,” Lena said, rubbing her hands together and placing them over Fi’s ears in a bid to warm them up. “If it gets any colder you are putting a hat on. You can be a trendsetter…” She looked around at two other young girls dressed up in Supergirl costumes run past them the other way, giggling to themselves. “What’s that?” Fi asked. “Never mind,” Lena said and pointed up to the next house. “Do you want to try this one alone?” Fi looked up at the house and then back to Lena. “I want to go with you.” Lena smiled, offered Fi her hand, and walked -hand-in-hand up to the house. She pressed the doorbell and heard movement from the other side of the door. “What do we say?” Lena whispered when the door opened and a kind-faced woman opened the door beaming at Fi. “Trick or treat!” “Adorable,” the woman said. She dropped two small candy bars into Fi’s outstretched treat bag and rummaged around in the bowl beside the door for another one and held it out to Lena. “Thank you,” Lena said, smiling, “but-” “Mom.” Fi tugged on Lena’s cloak and stood up on tiptoe to try and whisper to her discreetly. “You have to take it. It’s polite.” Lena bit back a laugh and nodded. “You’re right, where are my manners?” She caught the woman’s eye who looked incredibly amused at the exchange and winked. She took the candy from her and slid it into one of her pockets. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you,” Fi parroted, smiling brightly up at the woman. “You’re very welcome, both of you.” She waved to Fi and shut the door again, the paper skeleton hanging on the front door looking to do a kind of dance as it shimmied to a stop. Lena turned around to grab Fi’s hand and saw that she was already back on the sidewalk peering into her treat bag like it was a window into Narnia. “Ready to call it a night already?” Lena teased unable to stop herself from mussing Fi’s hair a little even after she spent so much time combing it straight earlier. Fi waved a hand out in front of her. “No way.” She skipped ahead, careful not to stray too far ahead, turning back now and again to make sure that Lena was still there. “No candy until we sit down somewhere,” Lena warned, watching Fi’s arm snake its way into her bag. “You could choke.” “And then I couldn’t count it all when we go back to the hotel.” “That too,” Lena said. They found themselves in a good rhythm for the next half hour. One of them ringing the bell or knocking on the door while Lena took a step back so that Fi could have the brief moment of the spotlight to herself although Fi often did her best to make sure that they shared it. “My mom’s a good witch,” Fi said, putting extra emphasis on the ‘good’ at the next house they visited. “How ominous,” the man at the door joked, rubbing a hand over the stubble on his beard. “No tricks tonight,” Lena assured him. “Say thank you,” she reminded Fi. “Thank you!” Fi said, bounding off the stoop making the cape on her costume momentarily billow out behind her making a trumpeting noise with her mouth to give herself a short bit of music to fly to. “Have a Happy Halloween,” Lena said. “No problem there, all my kids are grown up.” He pointed at Fi who was running up and down the sidewalk with her one free arm outstretched her treat bag unbalancing her somewhat. “She eats any of that

and you’re going to have a long Halloween.” He waved cheerfully and shut the door behind him, leaving Lena to watch Fi make herself dizzy. Lena scooped her up producing a giggle, careful not to lift her too high, spinning her around. “I think I can fly you to one house,” Lena said. If I don’t trip over this damn cloak and send us both to the ground. Just as Lena was about to ring the bell her phone rang, feeling it vibrate in her pocket. She instinctively reached into the nearest pocket, realizing that it was in the pocket under her cloak. “Do you want to try and do this one on your own, love” She slipped a hand into her cloak as she tried to dig the phone out of the pocket of her jeans. “I think this might be an important call. Good witch business.” Fi nodded, switching her treat bag to her other hand and reached up to ring the doorbell. “Say trick or treat and then say thank you afterward,” Lena reminded her, finally fishing her phone out and slid her thumb over the screen to accept the call. “Hello? Sam?” “No, so sorry to disappoint.” Lena felt her blood run cold and she found herself turning herself away from Fi, stepping off the stoop, yanking her hood off hurriedly. “Mother…” “You could sound a little happier to hear from me. It’s only been a decade or so.” “Maybe try calling me again in another ten years and we’ll see where we’re at then.” “Can you talk?” Lillian asked, completely ignoring Lena’s barb. “I’m busy,” Lena said, pacing in front of the apartment building. “With your daughter?” Lena’s mouth flattened into a thin line and she bit down on the inside of her cheek to stop herself from letting loose whatever poison barb she had ready to toss in her mother’s direction. “You’ve been spying on me? Glad to see that you haven’t changed since I last saw you.” “I would hardly call keeping tabs on your daughter spying.” “And when have you ever treated me like a daughter?” Lillian sighed. “I didn’t call to fight.” “Whatever you’re trying to do with L-Corp and with Sam, I won’t let you get away with it.” “That’s why I’m calling…” “You can-” Lena turned back around to the front door and saw that the stoop was empty, her heart seeming to stop in her chest, the hand clutching her phone clenching into an awkward fist. “Lena?” She returned the phone hastily to her pocket, cutting the connection and jogged up the stoop, pounding on the door, not letting up until she saw the shadow of someone on the other side. “You don’t need to-” “The girl,” Lena said. “The one who was just here, did you see where she went?” The scowl on the red-headed woman’s face vanished upon hearing the panic in Lena’s voice and she opened the door wider. “The little girl with the Supergirl costume?” “Yes,” Lena said. She pointed down the street. “I think she went that way. She must have walked right past you... If you give me a second to change out of my pajamas I can help you look.” “Thank you but it’s fine,” Lena said, already back on the sidewalk. She ran, nearly ripping her cloak at the knees while she passed a number of children with their parents, one of them a ghost carrying a jack-o-lantern pail that stared at her as Lena sprinted past. Nothing to see here, just the world’s worst fucking mother, Lena thought, scolding herself. It would have been easy (and tempting) to blame Lillian for losing track of Fi but it was Lena’s fault. There was the laundry list of excuses she could pull from if she was looking to shirk blame. ‘I just took my eyes off her for a second’, or ‘I told her not to go anywhere’. Just finding herself in such a situation made her face burn with shame and felt hot even against the bitter wind. “Fi!” She passed a girl in a Supergirl costume that was at least two heads taller than Fi but that didn’t stop her from bending down low to verify that it wasn’t her. “Mom?” “Fi?” Lena caught sight of her just ahead illuminated by the dull yellow glow of a streetlight, put on a burst of speed that tore her cloak at the knee all

the way up to her thigh. Hardly noticing, she skidded to a halt in front of Fi, bending down painfully on one knee. “You can’t just run off like that Fi! I know you’re excited but when I looked up and saw you were gone…” She brushed a hand over her eyes, wiping away tears. “You need to stay where I can see you.” “I’m sorry…” She wrapped her arms around Lena’s side and held tight. “I didn’t mean to run off… But…” She pointed up. Lena glanced up hastily and saw a cape fluttering in the wind. “There are a lot of Supergirls out tonight, Fi. If you try and chase after each one, I’m never going to-” “Lena...” For the second time that night, Lena felt her heart stop in her chest, feeling it begin to beat faster. She kept one hand on Fi’s arm, too afraid that she might run off again and stood up on legs that suddenly felt very shaky. “She knows your name,” Fi said in a hushed whisper. Kara… Lena opened her mouth to say something, to say anything when she felt strong arms wrapping her up in an impossibly tight hug. You changed your hair, Lena thought, wrapping her one free arm around Kara, only relinquishing her grip when she felt Kara start to pull away. “Mom.” Fi tugged at Lena’s cloak and produced a faint tearing sound as the cloak ripped higher up on her leg. “Yes, love,” Lena said, tearing her gaze away from Kara who was gazing back at her with the same look of wonderment that was on Lena’s face. “How do you know my mom?” Fi asked, suddenly turning her attention to Kara. “Your mom?” Kara’s gaze focused briefly on Fi then onto Lena, then quickly to Lena’s left hand and finally back to Fi again. “We’re friends,” she said, bending down onto one knee so that she and Fi were eye-level. “Best friends.” “Wow,” Fi said, sounding awed. She beamed at Lena and took a step back. “I’m dressed like you,” she said. “I noticed,” Kara said, smiling right back. “I hope yours is a little more comfortable than mine,” she said and pulled at her suit. Fi made a face and shook her head which made Kara laugh. “But I still love it. I never want to take it off.” “Oh boy,” Lena said. “She might mean that,” she whispered to Kara, not wanting to risk planting that idea any deeper into Fi’s head than it might already be. “What are you doing here?” Kara asked. “Trick or treating,” Fi answered before Lena even had time to open her mouth to speak. “I can see that,” Kara lifted Fi’s treat bag, pretending to have trouble. “Heavy,” she said, wiping her brow with the back of her hand. “You must be really strong.” Fi giggled and shook her head. “What are you doing here?” Lena asked. National City wasn’t that big but still, the chances of them meeting like this were infinitesimally low. “Halloween patrol,” Kara said and gestured around. “Not really necessary but I wasn’t getting any trick-or-treaters at my place,” she said in a voice just above a whisper. “If you still live in a walk-up apartment…” Lena said. Her mouth curved into a sly grin that dulled somewhat when she realized that Kara’s life during her time away was a complete mystery to her. Sam gave her the occasional update but it had been a long while since she had mentioned anything about Kara… “Mom…” “Yes, love?” Lena smiled and bent down low when Fi waved her in closer. If you need to use the bathroom we’ll have to see if the next house doesn’t mind us coming inside for a bit. She bent her ear close enough so that Fi could whisper into it, wincing a bit when she whispered just a bit too loudly into her ear. “Can Supergirl come trick or treating with us?” “I don’t know, Fi…” Lena looked up, sure that Kara had heard Fi, super hearing, or no super hearing. “I’m sure she’s too busy for that…. But there’s no harm in asking.” She cleared her throat, suddenly aware that she might be more nervous to hear Kara’s answer than Fi was. “Would you like to-” “Yes. I’d love to.” Kara tapped her ear and smiled at Fi. “Super hearing.”

“Thank you!” Fi crowed, bouncing up and down, looking very much like she wanted to run circles around them and maybe stopped herself from doing so for Lena’s sake. “Thank you for inviting me,” Kara said. “It’s an honor.”

#supercorp fic #supercorptober2021

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an-unlikely-poet · 4 years ago

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I am a naturalist

By any reasonable definition. Once even paid to give sermons, or maybe eulogies. Partly faking it, another part entertainment. A last part of desire to understand my own home, my own place in the giant organism. Damage be done was also part of it. A byproduct of being human. All of us guilty to one extent or another. Whether we like it or not. Except it or not. Dominion is inherent in our survival. The pendulum swings through space, being touched oh so softly, knocking it off course. And back again. Hopefully before it’s too late.

It is all nature to me though. From exposed skin, to the blooming pecan, cherry and apple tree. Which did me no favors in the spinning wheel. A wheel on fire as far as I could tell. Taking the heat, smiling and looking for the water. A reprieve from steel and concrete. Rubber on the road, boots laced for stability, protection from litter. Protection from man.

There will exist, a primitive strand of dna within me. Within us all if we let it. Feed it. Nurture it. Necessary as far as I could tell. Intentions here are, however contradictory it is to the nature I worship, my aim.

From a long line of those before me, I’ll carry it on both shoulders. And in the end, I hope for once, I was right

#selfportait #nature #poems on nature #nature writing #prose writing

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twistedtranslations · 5 years ago

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Idia Shroud - I’ll definitely be number one

You can unlock this story by getting Idia’s R Sports uniform

Translation under the cut

Sports Field

Deuce: ... Goal! You did it Jack. You reduced your time for the 50 meter by 0,3 seconds.

Jack: I noticed my starting dash is not quite right. Let’s try again.

Idia: Uh-huh. By bending slightly forward and swinging a fixed elbow like a pendulum... The femoral muscles can be made of a flexible material... If I need elasticity, the calves can be made of springs...

Ruggie: Huh, Idia, you sittin’ in the shade of that tree? What’re you doin’ there?

Idia: Aargh! R-R-Ruggie...!

Ruggie: Why so flustered? How shady, are you plannin’ something sinister?

Idia: Nonononono...

Ruggie: You can tell me anything... huh, what’s this? A sketch of Jack and a pile of notes...

Idia: T-T-That’s, that’s...

Ruggie: Are you a stalker... that ain’t good...

Idia: Y-Y-You’re mistaken! I-I-I, I j-just... wanted to observe... Jack’s running form...

Ruggie: Sounds like what a stalker would say.

Idia: Y-You’re... wrong.... and we have class...! The teacher.... this close distance...

Ruggie: Huh, what? Sorry, you’re too quiet, so I can’t understand you.

Idia: ... Ugh. I just wanted to know about the knickknacks of short distance running for class! I’m not a stalker.

Ruggie: Ah! Y-You don’t have to come that close, I can read it. So about short distance runnin’...is it for PE? To think the Ignihyde students were so serious about working out.

Idia: “You’re never doing your best! If you can’t show hard proof of your endeavors, you’ll have to follow special supplementary lessons!” .... Is what Vargas.... said. I, I really don’t want to do supplementary training... I want to learn the tricks by watching the people who are good at running.

Ruggie: I see. So that’s why you had your eye on Jack. To start by approachin’ from theory really seems like somethin’ a guy that’s shit at PE would do.

Idia: How cruel...

Ruggie: ... Well, I understand why, though. Jack doesn’t like associatin’ with humans. Shshshs.

Idia: P-, Please keep this confidential... Someone like me has no other method than this...!

Ruggie: I wanted to check somethin’. Idia, you’re from that famous Shroud family, aren’t you?

Idia: ... Famous... well. You know... the Shrouds of the Isle of Lamentation.

Ruggie: I knew it! So you’re from that noble family~

Idia: Being from a noble family isn’t really that great. And what business do you have with our family...

Ruggie: Calm down, please. I’ll keep quiet about this! Please watch Jack to your heart’s content.

Idia: Huh. Y-You’ll overlook this...!? Ah, ah, Ruggie... this is incredible...!

Ruggie: Hey, hey, I never said I was gonna do that for free! This is just an investment in the young master of the Shroud family. Please don’t forget about this favor when you inherit the household.

Idia: ... I don’t think there’s a single good thing about investing in us, though...

Ruggie: Who cares! Let’s get along from now on. Shshsh.

A few days later

2nd period PE

Vargas: Okay, let’s test your short distance sprints! As I said before, everyone with terrible times will have to attend supplementary lessons. But I’m sure everything will be fine. There will be no problem if you received the perfect me’s perfect lessons. So line up on the start line... Shroud?

Idia: Yes.

Vargas: Why are you sitting on your younger brother’s back?

Ortho: Hello Mr. Ashton Vargas!

Idia: U-Uhm... T-Today I did something to Ortho! I-, I installed a special gimmick...

Vargas: Gimmick?

Idia: Ah, uhm... I-I have a cheat sheet in my pocket... Ah there. “ By using Jack Howl’s muscles as reference for the lower body half, I installed him with alloy fibres, to mimic the supple movement of muscles. Furthermore, I implanted special springs in the calves and heels, so he can reach a speed he has never reached before.”

Ortho: As expected of my brother! I have a lot of high-powered features.

Idia: ... Hehe... what do you think? With this I’ll definitely be number one at today’s short distance race...

Vargas: These little tricks... I won’t allow it! What were you thinking!?

Idia: B-B-B-But, I, especially prepared for this today... I-I! Did! My! Best!

Vargas: You’re just cutting corners, this is a blasphemy towards muscles! Apologize to your quadriceps! And to your triceps. The wonderful me shall beautifully correct this character of yours. You will have special supplemental training after school tomorrow, be grateful!

Idia: Sigh~.. And there goes my hope. I never understand the essence of things. I’m so useless. The goal is to “Quickly get to the goal” right? Does that mean we can only run with our body?

Vargas: Oh... you’re talking back. I see, I understand. Besides my special supplemental training, I shall also add morning training!

Idia: As expected...There are some absurd things in this world. Reality is so indecent...

#twisted wonderland #idia shroud #ruggie bucchi #jack howl #deuce spade #ortho shroud #personal showcase #translation

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rxmanticdevil · 4 years ago

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One Shot #1 - Magicians for Sport, Trelawny’s side

Characters: Josiah Trelawny, Arthur Morgan, Charles Smith Spoilers: Through Ch. 3 Words: ~3142 Trigger warnings: Kidnapping, violence, choking Explanation for this abomination: The story mission “Magicians for Sport” from the perspective of what happened to Trelawny. Josiah is minding his own business, bounty hunters decide they want a chat. Things get better from there (just kidding, they don’t get better). This has most likely been written before but tbh I didn’t look because I wanted to write it and I’ve just done research for my degree and I don’t want to research anymore.))

Trelawny was hardly registering his actions as he placed the two small slices of bread on a plate, a small meal for the early morning. His mind was distracted, his thoughts with the gang he had grown so fond of. Those bounty hunters were quite determined to get a hold of Dutch. And Arthur. The whole gang was in danger, which wasn’t really out of the norm. But this time it felt different, those bounty hunters seemed determined in a way that put Josiah’s hair on end.

The sound of hooves on dirt caught his already heightened attention, and he glanced out his window to see familiar figures coming up the path to the small collection of caravans full of the unsavory people he had found to blend into.

Those were the bounty hunters he had spoken to by the state line. Without wasting any time he pulled the curtains closed, locking the doors as he could. His caravan only had two rectangular rooms, but two doors – two areas of vulnerability.

He held his breath, they were getting closer, there were voices: We’re looking for a guy.

Another voice. The fence who operated out of the next caravan over. He pressed his ear against his front door, straining to hear. But he couldn’t make out what was being said, there was no loyalty here and he knew what the bounty hunters wanted. He was familiar enough with people like them – he knew what they’d do to get it.

The seconds ticked by but felt like hours until he heard the sound of horses trotting away. He took a deep breath, nearly collapsing to his knees from relief.

“Thank God….” – and the fence too. It seemed he would be escaping this scenario unharmed.

He went back to his plate of food but was once more unable to focus on it, his hands trembling too violently to be useful whenever he attempted to spread the raspberry jam over the bread. His mind raced. The bounty hunters were here, in Rhodes. While Josiah didn’t know where Dutch and the others were holed up now, he did know they would be coming back this way. It was imperative that he tracked them down, any of the gang down, at least to deliver the message –stay low, for God’s sake your lives are at stake. Stay. Alert.

Advice he should have heeded himself, it seemed.

The back door was kicked open with an unparalleled violent force at the same time as the front door. The sudden actions causing Josiah’s heart to jump, near pounding out of his chest, and his body escaped to the farthest point from the most immediate intruder at his front doorway. Unfortunately, that was the edge of his bed and it was hardly any more distance at all.

“Good morning, sir,” the bounty hunter coming from the front stood in his doorway, his body filling up the door frame as he held a gun in his hand, “We just got a few questions for you, we won’t be long.”

It was one of the first times in a long time that Trelawny felt genuine fear. Trapped, his revolver by the door where the man stood– there was no way he could get it without being grabbed – or shot. He could only wait for what would happen next. A fact that the man before him seemed to savor, drinking in Trelawny’s paled face and white knuckles clinging to the edge of his bed.

The man’s face melted into a cruel grin as he neared, “You remember me, right? We spoke at the state line?” he waited a moment, taunting Josiah to respond. “You remember we were talking – about Dutch Van der Linde? My colleagues and I seem to think you left out some details.”

“You must have me confused with someone else. I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t, huh?” a fist went to the framed photograph on his wall, shattering the glass as it fell to the ground. The sharp action, the threat, caused Trelawny to jump. If these men didn’t kill him soon his heart would surely do him in.

“I told you, I just got here from Oregon-” It wasn’t acting this time, how his voice pitched up, squeaking out the story he had threaded during their earlier encounter.

A hand grabbed his neck and threw him onto the ground, into the glass. His attacker wasted no time looming over him, leaning down to grab him once more by the throat, pulling Josiah up close to his face.

“Try again.”

“I don’t know anything-”

The fist came at him once. And then twice. He was seeing stars, trying to regain any sense of equilibrium before he was picked up and thrown once more, like a ragdoll, from one side of his caravan to the other. His back hit his counter, knocking the shelves down.

“I said try again.”

Trelawny felt blood coming from his wounds, and an anger building inside him. Fear dissipating for a moment – how dare these men come into his home and cause such a mess. His hand balled into a fist, and he took the moment to throw a punch.

“And I said I don’t know anything, now leave.” He swung his fist, shocking the attacker just long enough to clip the man’s cheek. But before he could follow up, he felt two arms grab him tight from behind. The other bounty hunter. But Trelawny was determined: They had made it clear that he wasn’t getting out of this unscathed whether he cooperated or not.

He brought his elbow up and swung it back in a short, sharp motion- aiming to do as much damage as possible to the gut before he used his elbow and upper arm as the pendulum to swing his fist down into a more sensitive area. The bounty hunter yelped, releasing him.

A glint in the light caught his eye, his cane! A weapon he could get! He made a move for it, pulling it up and swinging down hard with the intent to end this quickly against the man who was doubled over in pain.

Then, there was nothing.

_______

“Then the idiot went after Davey and I grabbed one of the vases and smashed it over his head,” the bounty hunter lit his cigarette and brought it to his lips, “Dropped like a rock.”

“But he didn’t say anything?”

“Not a damn thing,” the man grumbled.

Well, that all certainly explained his splitting headache. He felt the dirt on his cheek, from his face having been in it for who knew how long. But the rest of his body didn’t seem to be responding. Not wanting to alert his new… friends that he was awake, but needing to check his situation, he slowly tried to move his limbs. All he found though was his wrists bound tight together as well as his ankles. Oh, if there was ever a time he wished for the gang to show up from one of their misadventures it would be now.

“Hey, George,” a third bounty hunter spoke to the first, “Look, your friend.”

And then all eyes were on him, and he knew he couldn’t play dead any longer. The bounty hunters eyeing him from their lean-to as he struggled in vain on the ground. ‘George’ gave him a grin, a sickening grin that told Trelawny nothing good was in his future. However futile struggling was, that look made Trelawny only try to free himself faster. It was no use of course, the man stepped over him, straddling him as he pulled his head up off the ground by the throat.

“Good morning, partner,” he said, cruelty in every line on the man’s face.

“I’d brush my teeth if I were you, good sir. You might scare children like that-”

A hand came sharp across his face, “Shut up, fool. You’re in no place to talk to anyone like that.” His throat was gripped even tighter, and Josiah’s body began to panic for air. He could barely register as the man above him spoke.

“Where. Are. They? Where. Is. Dutch?”

“I don’t know any Dutch fellows.” If he wasn’t going to tell them before he certainly wasn’t going to now after they had been so rude and rough.

That wasn’t what he wanted to hear, “Dammit! I know you know!” The hand squeezed his throat tighter, and he felt himself gasping – fighting for air.

“Don’t kill him, George, or we’ll never get our answer. He just needs some more persuasion. Or maybe to be kept with us a little longer. If they find out we have him, they might send someone to get him back.”

“Think he’s worth somethin’ as bait?”

The hand relaxed on his throat and he gasped for air. Trelawny was less than soothed by that idea no matter that it bought him a few more minutes (hours? Days?) of life. He despised the thought of being bait for the Van der Linde gang. Sure, they exchanged favors of bailing each other out of sticky situations, but surely this would cross a line.

“So I can’t kill him but I can….”

Trelawny realized in that moment that he had let himself get distracted by thought, George had returned to his side. His eyes read nothing less than sadistic desire.

Whack! “Ahhh!” His legs dulled with the ache of great pain.

Whack! Pain shot through his side.

Whack! His shoulder screamed.

Each hit pulled a gasp from his lips. He caught a glimpse of the weapon – his cane. It came down on him again, and again.

“Hey, George! What’d we say? You’re going to kill him!”

“Fine by me!”

And then he saw the shine from the metal head of the cane as the shaft was swung down on him. He was out again.

_____

This time when he gained consciousness, he was sitting up. His arms tied still, his legs remained bound, and his vision blurred.

“There he is, good morning sunshine,” it was that George fellow again. Trelawny realized he didn’t have much voice left at all. His body weak, pain aching through every bone and every joint.

It was a time he could genuinely say he wished they would just kill him instead of continuing this treatment.

“Look, friend,” Davey knelt next to him, “We can let you go. Just tell us where they are. We can even give you some of the money. You know how much those guys are worth. You’d never have to work a day in your life again.”

Give him some of the money? Trelawny knew Dutch’s bounty was high. That would be no small sum but- no, how could he even entertain the idea? He might not have many morals, but he certainly had friends.

“I don’t… I don’t know… who you- you’re talking about-”

“BULLSHIT,” George was back in the scene. He kicked over Trelawny’s chair and the man fell to the hard, filthy cabin floor with a hard thud. Before he could gather his bearings once more a sharp foot made contact with his gut. The foot pulled back to go at him again.

“Whoa, George! Relax. We’ll make him talk yet. C’mon, I got an idea,” and Davey gave George a glance. A knowing glance. One that Trelawny was not happy to see them exchanging. He felt himself being yanked up by his arms, each touch hitting a point of injury sending shockwaves through his body and eliciting a cry from his lips. “Let’s get you out of here, come on boy.”

“The thing is,” George spoke as they began to pull the man out of the small cabin and down the steps, “after that shack, this will be remembered like a good time.”

“Put the man down, gentleman.” And then there was the click of two guns.

Trelawny could barely focus long enough to feel the relief wash over him in a tidal wave. That voice. Oh, that dear voice. That sweet voice. George left his side, and then Davey dropped him to the ground. It was another hard fall, but he was so filled with that joyous relief that he barely registered the pain. He wasn’t even sure if the tears in his eyes were from pain or relief – most likely both.

Feet entered his field of vision, a knife too – but any fear was dissipated when he realized it was none other than Charles. Another of Dutch’s loyal knights.

“That the lot of them?”

“I… I think so.” His hands were freed in an instant. His wrists red from chafing as he pushed himself up to a sitting position.

“So, you’re alive.” Arthur knelt by him with another knife, getting to work on the binds on his ankles.

“Allegedly.”

“Well, don’t worry. They won’t be for much longer.” Those words sparked that desire for revenge in Trelawny’s heart. Those bastards who broke into his home, kidnapped him, tortured him, and threatened his friends. He had no strength left but he had enough anger to help himself out of his own leg binding.

“Go get them, Arthur. I can handle this.”

Arthur met his eyes, and Trelawny took the second to drink in that familiar, gentle face. The man who was ruthless when necessary, but who had always been a kind – if a little sad – soul to Trelawny. Arthur seemed to be checking with Trelawny, to make sure he would sincerely be alright should he go off to stop the bounty hunters. In response, Trelawny waved his hand – urging Arthur onward. Not just for that desire of revenge either, should those bounty hunters escape they would escape with far too much information. They had to be dealt with accordingly.

In the next moment, Arthur had taken off to the fields. Gunshots rang out. Arthur and Charles will both be fine, he kept telling himself as he struggled to free his ankles. It would be easier if his hands weren’t having such trouble gripping things. Each movement made his body cry in pain, but at least… at least he was safe.

The rope around his ankles became slack after another moment of finicking. The gunshots were still echoing and Trelawny could only hope his friends were not on the receiving end.

Well, he couldn’t just wait here on the ground. In the dirt. His clothes were already filthy, his white shirt had blood stains on it, his beautiful vest simply torn to shreds. Lord only knew what his face looked like. His hair must be an utter mess. He would simply die of embarrassment should they return to him whining on the ground.

He tried to put a hand on the ground to push himself up to his feet, but his elbow buckled under his weight. Pain shot through the arm. His legs told him too we’re not standing. There was a chair on the patio of the small cabin, if he could just make it there he could take a seat like somewhat of a refined gentleman as opposed to a dirt dweller like he was now.

It took him longer than he’d like, and he had more crawled over the dirt than walked, but he found himself able to climb into the chair, letting himself finally take in a moment of peace despite the pain. Arthur is here. Charles is here. And because he had kept his mouth shut this time, he could look them in the face with dignity.

“Mr. Trelawny, where are you?”

He nearly felt the tears threaten again. That voice brought with it so much relief, he wasn’t sure he could ever explain to Arthur just how much it meant to him. Especially in that moment. And that was for no lack of intelligence on the other man’s part, Trelawny knew the man was quite prolific. Dutch and Hosea would have it no other way. “Over here, dear boy!”

“Put your feet up, why don’t you?” Arthur came into view on the hill, the words harsh and teasing but nothing that Trelawny would imagine taking offense to. And as Arthur approached, he could see his face soften and he could hear that kindness in his voice, “You okay?”

“Never finer.” Yes, this outlaw had probably just killed a small handful of other men. However, he had done it out of desire to protect his friends. And Trelawny was just glad that he was in that category. Trelawny tried to stand up, but pain brought him back into his chair.

“So, who was they?” The important question. Josiah couldn’t blame him for wanting to cut right to the chase. The man’s hand was gentle on his back, the other at his arm in quiet support.

“They were bounty hunters, ah, attached to Cole Stoudemire,” that was what they had told him at that camp long ago.

“Okay.”

“They weren’t looking for me, per se.”

“No…” Arthur quietly confirmed the unsaid part. They wanted you, Arthur. They wanted Dutch. “What you tell ‘em?”

Another important question. And one Josiah was glad he could answer with pride, “Not much. I… told them I was an intellectual come down here from Oregon…” He let Arthur steer him towards the horse, accepting his and Charles’ help to mount. He tried to grip the saddle, tried to pull himself up, but he knew he was fooling none of them: he had no energy, no strength left. “…looking for a job at the university. Course, they didn’t believe me. Seems you stirred up quite a hornet’s nest in Blackwater.”

“So I keep hearing.” Arthur backed slowly away from the horse, as though making sure that Trelawny could remain upright.

Josiah met his eyes once more, a little embarrassed by his own need to request yet even more from the gang. But it was how things had to be. “It might be best if I stay with you gentlemen for a while. Can’t go back to that caravan now.”

Not even a moment to think about it passed before Arthur nodded in agreement.

“Alright, Charles, you take Trelawny back to camp. I’ll catch up with you.”

“Okay.” And Charles moved his horse on, Trelawny following close behind. Their previous rides together had been full of Josiah’s stories, thoughts, and ideas. But this ride was different, it was quiet. Trelawny was lost in thought, energy spent with none to spare on a façade. And Charles’ silence was reassuring in its own right.

The bounty hunters had been dealt with. Josiah had been rescued. There would be time to worry about everything else, time to tell Dutch everything he had learned. Time to pay back the gang for saving his life. For now though, the hooves of the horses and the whistling of birds the only sound for miles, there was just time enough for peace.

#{rebloggable}#red dead redemption fanfic #rdr2 fanfic #josiah trelawny #arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #{my writing}#((I might write a drabble after this when Trelawny gets back to camp with Charles))#((but this was just something I've wanted to write for a while so here #it goes right here for now haha))#((I'd also thread an rp based off of this too if anyone wants to rp! :D))

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soraya-serene · 5 years ago

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pendulums, and the art of dowsing

i’m going to be telling you everything i know about pendulums. hope you enjoy!

pendulums are objects that hang from a length of string. typically, pendulums are a leather cord that hold a crystal with a defined shape. as with wands, don’t pay attention to the technicalities: if it feels right, it’s the one. again, similarly to wands, the material, embellishments, and shape play a part in the pendulum’s identity. these are some shapes, and what they mean.

teardrops are for emotional questions. they guide you through friendships and romance

triangles tend to prefer questions about knowledge. i use mine for academics and learning

a flat oval or sphere will answer all of your general life questions

remember that the material of the pendulum matters too. crystals and wood carry over their effects. rose quartz will respond to health and love questions, lapis will guide your psychic abilities, citrine will be your financial advisor, etc. some pendulums, like mine, are made of wood. woods have their own meanings, too.

some pendulums have symbols etched in them. take a pendulum made of, let’s say amethyst, and is shaped like a teardrop. this will guide your discipline and desires. now, let’s say you etch the Wheel of The Year, symbol of time, into its side. it now becomes a guide for self-control over time.

the process of using a pendulum, dowsing, allows the subconscious to guide the conscious, via unnoticeable twitches that move the pendulum. in dream divination, the subconscious tells us what is to come through imagery. in dowsing, our subconscious tells us what is to come through a pendulum’s swing. think of a question, and your subconscious will answer.

but what does a pentacle swing over? that would be a pentacle board. beautiful boards made from all sorts of things are what we dangle our pendulums over. they have many designs, symbols, and most importantly, a distinguished “yes,” and “no.” like all things, a homemade board is favorable, but it’s all about the connection you feel with the board.

note: when looking at science, it appears that the Earth’s magnetic pull has influence on pendulums. while some imbeciles say this discredits pendulums, i disagree. for one, the subtle muscle movements still come across. and two, a religion that worships the Earth should take this as a positive!

thanks so much if you took time to read this post! this blog makes witchy and goblin content whenever she feels like, so follow for more!

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 3 years ago

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LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

May 16, 2021 Heather Cox Richardson Representative Liz Cheney (R-WY), whom the Republican House conference dumped as chair last week after she refused to kowtow to former president Trump, said some interesting things to Chris Wallace on Fox News Sunday this morning. She reiterated that House Minority Leader Kevin McCarthy has information about conversations with Trump surrounding the events of January 6 and should be subpoenaed if he will not talk about those things voluntarily (and, by implication, under oath).

Cheney is bringing back into the media cycle a number of things we heard between the election and January 6, but she has said that McCarthy should be subpoenaed enough times that it’s hard to believe she is talking generally.

On ABC’s This Week, Cheney also repeated the information she gave last week: that Republicans were afraid to convict Trump in his second impeachment trial because they were frightened for their lives. You may recall that the chair of the House Intelligence Committee, Adam Schiff (D-CA) said something similar in his closing remarks in January 2020 at Trump’s first impeachment trial, and Republicans claimed to be outraged. Senator James Lankford (R-OK) told reporters: “That’s insulting and demeaning to everyone to say that we somehow live in fear and that the president has threatened all of us.”

And yet, sixteen months later, here we are.

Cheney is not the only Republican who is turning on the former president and his loyalists. Last night, Trump posted a statement claiming that “the entire Database of Maricopa County in Arizona”—where the bizarre “audit” is underway—“has been DELETED!” The statement goes on to make sweeping claims about “this unbelievable Election crime,” and so on.

But, in real time, the Republican recorder of Maricopa County wrote on Twitter in response to Trump’s statement: “Wow. this is unhinged,” Stephen Richer wrote. “I’m literally looking at our voter registration database on my other screen. Right now.” He went on: “We can’t indulge these insane lies any longer. As a party. As a state. As a country. This is as readily falsifiable as 2+2=5. If we don’t call this out….”

And Maricopa County did call it out. In a remarkable Twitter thread, the Maricopa County official account destroyed the effort by the private company Cyber Ninjas to recount the 2020 votes in that county. “The 2020 elections were run w/ integrity, the results certified by the county & state were accurate, & the 2 independent audits conducted by the County are the true final word on the subject,” the account said. “We know auditing. The Senate Cyber Ninja audit is not a real audit.” The account went on to list all the many ways in which this audit is simply a propaganda effort to shore up the Big Lie that the election was stolen.

This weekend we also learned that Joel Greenberg, the former tax collector for Seminole County, Florida, will plead guilty to six charges in federal court tomorrow. Greenberg is the man Florida Representative Matt Gaetz, a Trump loyalist, used to call his “wingman,” and Greenberg has worked his way down from the 33 original charges against him by promising to cooperate with prosecutors, presumably to offer information about people above him in the food chain, possibly including Gaetz. On Friday, media reported that witnesses could place Gaetz at a party with Greenberg, as well as lots of cocaine and sex workers, one of whom ended up with a “no-show” government job.

Gaetz has compared the accusations that he has been “falsely accused of exchanging money for naughty favors” with congressional earmarks.

I’m afraid I have no idea what point Gaetz is trying to make, but I’m flagging all three of these stories because they illustrate an important point: that a one-party state is bad even for the party that holds a monopoly and that, together, these stories reveal that the Republican Party is nearing the end of its dominant run in our democracy.

One of the key functions of a strong opposition party in a functioning democracy is oversight. Human nature being what it is, there are going to be bad eggs in every organization, including governments. It is in everyone’s best interest to expose the Joel Greenbergs of a party long before they hit 33 federal indictments and threaten to torpedo a highly visible lawmaker. But by marginalizing the Democrats through voter suppression, gerrymandering, and media attacks, the Republicans undermined that oversight and grew some terribly outsized scandals.

Manipulating the system to gain power without oversight, a party can close ranks even to the point that its members are afraid to speak out. The contrast between the fury unleashed when Schiff said lawmakers were afraid for their lives and Cheney’s acknowledgement of that fear illustrates what a closed circuit the Republican Party became under Trump. It could be, of course, that their fear is entirely new, but it seems more likely that they rejected the oversight that would have helped them throw off Trump before it got to the point that party members were afraid to speak out for fear of their own safety.

This sort of political domination might seem like a great victory, but it is actually suicidal in the long run. The party becomes so extreme that it finally alienates even its own members, like the Maricopa elections officials or Representative Cheney. They turn on the party leadership. And if they join with the party’s opposition, they can empower the regime’s opponents, enabling them to restore voting rights, end gerrymandering, and make the playing field level again. This restoration of fairness swings the pendulum away from the dominant party pretty dramatically.

The fear that the American people will end the Republican Party’s dominance, of course, explains why Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell (R-KY) has declared that his primary goal in this Congress is to make sure the Democrats cannot pass the For the People Act to make voting easier, end partisan gerrymandering, and end the influence of big money in politics. McConnell and the Republicans want to protect Trump’s corporate tax cuts, and to do that, it is imperative that they regain control of Congress. And for that, they need the tools they have developed over the past generation, tools the For the People Act would take away.

It’s a Catch-22. To win, the Republicans need to hamstring the opposition. But as they did that over the last generation, they undercut the oversight that would have kept the party healthy. Now the Republican Party runs the risk of alienating voters it desperately needs as it faces a scandal of sex and drugs, a profoundly troubled election “audit,” accusations that party members are afraid to speak out because they fear for their lives, and suggestions from the former third-ranking official in the House Republican conference that the first official in the conference should be subpoenaed.

—-

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

#political #The Big Lie #January 6 2021 #corrupt GOP #criminal GOP #accountability #Maricopa

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resistantbees · 3 months ago

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#DeeLusby #Varroaresistance #treatmentfreebeekeeping

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minervacasterly · 4 years ago

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At the end of William Shakespeare’s play “Richard III”, the newly crowned Henry VII, promises his new subjects that a new dawn is upon them, declaring: "England hath long been mad, and scarred herself The brother blindly shed the brother's blood; The father rashly slaughtered his own son; The son, compelled, been butcher to the sire; All that divided York and Lancaster, United in their dire division. Oh, now let Richmond and Elizabeth, The true succeeders of each royal house, By God's fair ordinance conjoin together, And let their heirs, God, if his will be so, Enrich the time to come with smooth-faced peace, With smiling plenty, and fair prosperous days!" Then he assures them once again that the days of discord are over, adding in a more triumphant manner: “Abate the edge of traitors, gracious Lord, That would reduce these bloody days again, And make poor England weep in streams of blood! Let them not live to taste this land’s increase That would with treason wound this fair land’s peace! Now civil wounds are stopped, peace lives again: That she may long live here, God say Amen!” The play was written during Henry VII’s granddaughter, Queen Elizabeth I’s reign. To cater favor with the last Tudor monarch, William Shakespeare went further than any other author before him had gone, creating a villain that everyone could hate who was every bit of deserving of his fate by casting her grandfather as the complete opposite. The wars of the roses was more than just the war between Lancaster and York. Historians and biographers have published several books, articles and done documentaries where they’ve explained the nature of this conflict, adding that more often than not, bad weather and chance were what decided the outcome of a battle. The Hollow Crown: Wars of the Roses, the sequel to the Hollow Crown from 2012, and based on the history plays by William Shakespeare, chooses a grimmer ending. Instead of ending with Elizabeth of York and Henry VII happily married, and everyone crying in unison “God save King Henry”; the screen switches to Queen Margaret (who in real life was dead by the time these events happened) who holds up the mirror she used to show Richard III and everyone else their fates, and looks at the dead bodies around her, showing us the great price that was paid in the name of justice, ambition and whatever other motive drove these figures to do what they did. This ending is also a testament to how flexible our perceptions of these historical figures are. Shakespeare painted Henry as a virtuous man, a reluctant hero who is called to rescue England from the clutches of a tyrant and who does just that after he kills him with the help of his stepfather and his subsequent union with Elizabeth of York. Now, with the pendulum swinging to the other extreme, Henry is viewed in the same light that Richard was once viewed in. Shakespeare's ending of Henry and Elizabeth ends with a rushed wedding and a happy union but it took a bit longer than that. Henry VII and Elizabeth of York were married on the 18th of January 1486. Less than nine months later, the two welcomed their first son, a healthy baby boy they named Arthur after the legendary King who united all of Britain. While Henry VII derived his claim from his mother's Lancastrian side, and many did see him as the last Lancastrian scion, he also derived his claim by his right of conquest (which was valid, just look at William the Conqueror and others before him) and claiming to be a descendant of King Arthur and the legendary Welsh King, Cadwalder (whose symbol became his main banner). Five months after she gave birth to Prince Arthur, Elizabeth of York was crowned Queen of England. And at the time the play was published, Elizabeth I was facing serious threats from all sides. While one side portrayed her as a harpy and a whore and another one claimed that she wasn't going far enough with the Protestant Reformation, and still being at war with Spain; Elizabeth I had to rely on other tools besides the might of her army and navy to keep things under her control. And that is where the past comes in. Rewriting the past is nothing new, but like her grandfather, Elizabeth I went one step further by presenting herself as a beacon of light, and like her grandmother, a symbol of unity who was solely responsible for everything good. As Shakespeare has Henry VII declare in his last dialogue, Henry VII and Elizabeth's heirs will "enrich the time to come with smooth-faced peace" bringing "plenty and fair prosperous days." Basically, everyone before us was bad, but don't worry, here we are to right the wrongs of our predecessors. All is now well.

#Shakespeare #Richard III #Wars of the Roses #Henry VII

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illshowyourhurricanes · 5 years ago

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Number 3 image with our beloved Billy Russo

Thanks for requesting this, lovely! I had an absolute blast writing this for you (and apologies that it took on a mind of its own!) I hope you enjoy!

Trigger warning: some smut, mentions/potential use of weaponry

Chasing Losses

Image prompt 3: Billy Russo (season 1) x reader

Rating: MA, trigger warning above as well as language

Word count: 3284 (Write drabbles, I said. I’ll be able to do it, I said.)

Tag list: @dylanobrusso @obscurilicious @the-blind-assassin-12 @something-tofightfor @ms-delos @lexxierave @madamrogers @yannii04 @gollyderek @madamrogers @carlaangel86 @bicevans @maydayfigment @thisisparadisemylove @ladyofnaps @malionnes @thesandbeneathmytoes @crushed-pink-petals-writes

Follower event tag list: @luminex3 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @witchygagirl @breanime

If you’d like to be added to/removed from my tag list, please just send me an ask!

Special thanks to @something-tofightfor for help by answering my endless questions, and to @the-blind-assassin-12 for being the best beta reader.

*** *** *** ***There were perks that came with being the CEO of a corporation. There was a lot of bullshit that came along with it, but the perks evened the playing field. Billy’s foolproof analogy was that of the oscillation of a swinging pendulum: back and forth, clockwise and counter-clockwise, chaos swinging around the equilibrium. Billy didn’t favor one over the other, the pandemonium and the calm. One perk of being CEO of Anvil Security was that he could choose his own assignments, and he preferred to be in the thick of it, involved, making no room for potentially fatal mistakes for himself or his crew.

Covert operations that allowed Billy the ease of keeping his normal routine he kept as CEO–alarm clock blaring before the sun was completely hanging over the horizon, morning rituals of dressing in one of his custom-made suits before placidly drinking his coffee and heading to the office– these were the assignments that Billy took on often. Routine was what Billy thrived on; it was something that was essential in the military, and Billy had lived under strict discipline, no room for error, over a span of fifteen years. He was quick on his feet, gears in his mind never slowing, ready to react to havoc or upheaval even during sleep. The Marine Corps had created stability for a man who had none in his life. It gave him control. With a combination of the two under his thumb, Billy was unstoppable.

Another skill he’d gained overseas was that of patience. Suffer patiently, patiently suffer. Those four simple words from Special Forces training were words that never left Billy’s mind, words that never failed him. Words that were perfectly applicable for this particular assignment.

The basis was elementary: wait, watch, assure no senator or affiliate was threatened or harmed while money flew and cocktails flowed. It was a basic personal protection plan, and Billy likened it to the frequent waiting for higher-ups– he’d always have fucking higher-ups– to combat their logistics or command indecision. In his current case, the waiting, the watching, the act of assurance was done while laying low– another rich fuck in an expensive suit spending government money in a ritzy casino as far as anyone else knew— lasted as long as the senators stayed. It was one of the simplest jobs Billy had entertained, though mind-numbing.

And then, he spotted you.

He was leaning on the bar in the VIP lounge, just to the side of the third leather- upholstered swivel chair from the right. Left hand casually in his pocket, he held in his right a glass tumbler half-filled with some kind of overpriced bourbon poured over ice. His dark eyes roaming over those crowded around the table games– blackjack, craps, three-card poker– the wandering of his eyes froze into a stare, and what a view they captured.

Your dress fit you like a second skin. It was meant to command attention, first to your legs. They seemed infinite, both from the illusion your stilettos created and the hemline of that dress barely grazing your mid-thigh. It clung to every curve, the incredible roundness of your ass, the hourglass shape of your waist and hips. The back of your dress delved low, skin exposed just shy of your shoulder blades. Your hair down and curled loosely, you’d pull it all around to your front only for tendrils to escape and caress your shoulders again. Long-sleeved and with a high neckline, the design was simple, but the entirety of the fabric was embellished in green sequins reminiscent of a peacock’s plumage. Standing there in that dress, your eyes trained on the roulette wheel, Billy made several discoveries, but one stood out to him more than the others: you were utterly bored.

You played the interested and intrigued role well– eyes trained on the wheel and widened in interest, but if anyone cared to look close enough to your expression in lieu of your legs or that ass Billy could practically feel in his hands, they’d notice you were staring just past the game of roulette. You were paying about as much attention to the game than he was, and as a cacophony of excited chatter erupted from those you joined, your eyes came to life, and your lips quirked up into a picture-perfect, stunning grin. Billy was keenly interested, hungry, and you were the only one he could imagine at that moment who could satiate him.

As if on cue, your eyes glanced away from the game once more just to land on a tall, impeccably well-dressed vision of a man. He had a head full of coal black hair slicked back, drawing more attention to his perfectly symmetrical face. His strong, angular jawline was peppered with short, neatly-trimmed stubble. Your attention was drawn to his lips as his tongue darted out to moisten them before leisurely taking a drink. He’d noticed you as well, and his eyes didn’t leave your face as you blatant appraised his own. You finally met his gaze, drinking in his eyes and how startlingly dark they were.

His eyebrows quirked upward, and he pushed himself from the bar, walking your way with purpose. He knew he was attractive, knew you found him to be, and had a high amount of assurance in the way he walked.

You were in for a treat.

Billy stepped so close to you, his shoulder brushed yours feather-light as he passed right by you. You kept your expression neutral, steady, and felt his presence behind you. If it wasn’t for the palpable sense of arrogance he held, you’d have never sensed the man there behind you. He was silent on his feet. Unable to keep your chin from tilting upward just slightly, your face held an almost unreadable air of triumph. Yes, you were in for quite a treat.

You were absolutely intoxicating. Billy made no sound of inhaling deeply, just as he made no sound as he stepped behind you. He was so close, the scent of your perfume was overpowered by the one of your shampoo: a scintillating mixture of citrus and spice with a hint of mint. Though he could feel the beginning of an arousal, he kept his composure, glancing around the entirety of the room one last time before speaking, low and close to your ear.

“Are we betting on luck or chance here?” His voice was smooth like velvet, but rough around the edges: he was a New Yorker. You bit the inside of your cheek, both from the excitement of the situation alone as well as the devastatingly handsome man’s question. He had a brain in that head of his as well. Luck and chance were two very different animals, and you didn’t hesitate for a moment before answering.

“If it were a game of luck, I’d be playing,” you replied. You barely turned your head to the side in order for him to hear you, your line of vision still glued to the wheel, the optical illusion of bright red and inky black spinning before your eyes as you imagined the expression on the stranger’s face.

You couldn’t see Billy from the way you stood, but a shadow of a smirk tugged at his lips, eyes tinged with amusement. You were bold, and that was a turn on. The melting ice in his glass of bourbon clinked as he took another drink, taking his eyes off the deliciously smooth skin of your back in order to check his watch. His replacement would be arriving shortly. Perfect timing. “Mmm,” he mused, “Why is it you’re not taking a chance then?”

After a short beat of time, you spun to face him. You were struck again by how tall he was, and once again you appraised his features, still just as flawless as they seemed from across the room. Meeting his eyes with confidence of your own, you gave a soft shrug of your shoulders, several chunks of curly, silky hair falling past your shoulder. “It’s not my style. And you?”

“Not my style either,” Billy replied. “It’s not why I’m here.”

“Why are you here?” you asked, a lilt of curiosity in your tone.

Billy let out a breath of a laugh, lifting his arms away from his sides, palms up. “Why are you here?” His question wouldn’t be considered one of interest as much as it was a challenge.

A raucous roaring came from the men around the wheel once again, and you leaned in to speak into his ear. You knew with certainty that your lips would brush against his ear at least once, and it was entirely purposeful. “Franklin,” you purred, waiting for a reaction “Benjamin Franklin.” There was no blush crawling upward from his collar, not a single goosebump on his skin. As the noise died down, you pulled back to finish your answer to his question. “Old money.”

With a bitter laugh, Billy knocked down what remained of his bourbon, setting the glass on a mirrored console table behind him. “Old money,” he repeated, surveying you from head to toe. With a slight shake of his head, Billy’s hands slid into his packets. “Playing it safe for someone so lucky.” He sniffed, rolling his shoulders before lowering his voice. “Try something not so cloaked in certainty. I suggest a more avant garde approach.”

Bingo. You raised your brows and dipped your chin. A familiar warmth built up in your abdomen, and you almost ached from sheer desire. You craved the weight of man over you, the satisfaction of being filled, the sheer headiness of pleasure of a tongue teasing the most sensitive of places. This man in particular seemed like as close to a perfect candidate you could get. “Do you have any suggestions?”

The door to enter the VIP lounge opened, and it walked Billy’s overnight replacement. The man was capable, former military, and chosen for the graveyard shift assignment for good reason. Almost immediately, Billy’s eyes were back on you and his arousal was building. “I suggest we get the hell outta here.” His eyes bored into your own, the inky blackness of his dilated pupils showing you what you already knew. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and his head nodded sideways toward the door. One second later, and he was walking toward the exit, another nod that could pass as a greeting to his employee, signaling everything had gone smoothly as he walked out the door.

Billy strode through the crowded lounge of people, making eye contact with no one as he headed straight for the corridor lined with elevators. As he waited, he rolled his shoulders, tilted his head side to side and felt the satisfying cracking of his neck. Not two minutes later, Billy watched you, a goddamn knockout in that green dress, strut your way through the lounge, noticed almost every man in the room abandon any concentration on a table game or slot machine to watch you: the way you carried yourself, your seemingly endless legs–legs that would soon be wrapped around Billy’s waist, heels digging into his lower back– and your exquisite specimen of an ass that he was quite prepared to grab and squeeze and, according to your preferences, perhaps more. He jabbed at the button to call an elevator and just as you reached the entrance to the corridor, a set of doors opened. Billy stood in the hall, reached a hand to steel the doors open if necessary, and stepped into the elevator just as you vanished inside. He immediately pushed the button indicated to close the doors, pressed the one next to the 18th floor, and made his way straight to you, his companion for the next few hours.

You were standing against the back wall of the elevator, and as it began to rise, Billy took two steps toward you, pressing his hands against the mirrored wall behind you. His body was pressed against yours, the swell of your breasts touching his toned chest, and you met each other halfway for a kiss. He coaxed your mouth open with his tongue; you could taste the bourbon he’d drank as he explored your mouth, one kiss melting into another, urgency building. You could feel his erection, his length hard against your thigh and when the elevator dinged its signal that you’d reached his floor, he stayed put for a moment as the doors opened, not caring who saw the way he nipped and tugged at your bottom lip before he broke the kiss, pushing himself away from the wall and allowing you to exit first, thoroughly enjoying the view you provided him with as he followed you.

His suite was at the end of the hall, and as he slid his keycard into the slot to unlock his door, he pushed it open to reveal a stunning view. Billy didn’t give it a second glance. It was no more impressive than the view from his own penthouse. The breathtaking view, however, was stepping in behind him, closing the door with a soft click, and if you were the last thing Billy saw in his lifetime, he’d be satisfied.

With one slight lift of his chin, you obliged and closed the distance between yourself and Billy, lips and tongues seeking each other hungrily. You wanted to devour him and it was evident that he felt the same way about you.

The one difference between the two of you, however, was paramount. You knew his name, even if he had never formally introduced himself. You also knew that your name was a mystery to Billy. Basic information like that didn’t matter to Billy Russo, but your tits and ass and legs piqued his interest just like you’d known they would. That, for once and unbeknownst to him, was what mattered.

Smirking against his lips, you pulled away after one last tug with your teeth to whisper in Billy’s ear. “I’m so wet for you,” you purred, hot breath over the shell of his ear. You smoothed your hands over Billy’s shoulders and to his chest, going for the button that held his suit jacket together.

He groaned at your words, digging his teeth into his lower lip. Your hands roaming over his body, Billy couldn’t help himself from taking things further. His hands slid down your back, gripping your ass, squeezing as he relished in the handfuls of flesh beneath that dress that was a both blessing and a curse; you were dangerously gorgeous in it; he needed you out of it.

Billy grabbed at your wrists, pulling your hands from his suit jacket. With one arm around your waist, he spun you to press your back to the wall. Raising his chin, he ground his hips into yours, making certain you felt every inch of him and how hard he was for you. Your chest was heaving with every breath, you were already moaning, and Billy’s own groan mixed with yours. He dipped his head to suck on the soft skin where your neck curved into your shoulder.

Your body was on high alert but Billy was a master at his game. You felt the heat between your legs swell, were aware of that ache to be filled, and Billy allowed you enough space from the wall to snake his arms around you, unzipping your dress —just enough room for you to slip your arms from your sleeves and let the fabric fall to your waist.

Billy’s eyes were inky black, heavy-lidded, and he had your bra off just seconds after the top of your dress. He allowed the black lace bra to fall to the floor as he drank in the sight of your chest, the perfect shape of your breasts before looking back up at you. He flashed a blinding smile, his eyes ravenous. Teasing you, he brushed his palms over your breasts, out and down over your waist. Your nipples were taut and he took one into his mouth, circling it with his tongue as he teased the other with his thumb. He loved how you were conceding to him, allowing him to do to you what he’d been imagining doing since he set his eyes on you.

Even so, Billy was also surprised at your cooperation, surprised that as brazen as you were downstairs, you hadn’t taken charge of the situation. He enjoyed the upper hand, the power. He knew what was coming within minutes, and he was ready. You pawed at his suit jacket again, and he distracted you by grinding his hips into yours again. You couldn’t help but reciprocate, and Billy didn’t fight you as you first unbuttoned and then unzipped his pants. He was dying for your touch, but had to play it smart, and he reached between the two of you, stroking his length as he nipped and licked at your collarbone and back down to your chest. He groaned, the noise low in his throat.

Billy almost wished he could prolong things—almost.

His unoccupied hand slipped down beneath the fabric pooling at your waist, long fingers flattening over your abdomen before delving down deeper. You wore nothing under that dress from the waist down.

“Fuck,” he hissed under his breath. Without warning, you pulled his hand away from his length, gripping him tightly with your hand and stroking more urgently. His thumb circled your clit and you almost faltered.

Bringing his hand further downward, he teased at your center and If he didn’t have business to take care of, he’d be fucking you within seconds. You were slick with desire, and he craved the taste of you. Instead, he kept his eyes on yours and allowed your hand to drop to your side as he slipped one finger inside you, pumping it in and out a few times before bringing in a second. That was when you made the fatal mistake of moaning his name.

You realized your slip up immediately but were too slow for Billy. He ripped your dress off the rest of the way one-handed, exposing the blade you wore on your right thigh. Grabbing your wrist, his fingers were hurting you. Then, you heard a click. With a flick of the wrist, Billy held a cold blade at your throat.

You looked up at him with a sneer of contempt, but there was no hiding the fear in your eyes. Billy’s eyes, however, were a stark, startling change from the way they’d appeared just minutes before. They were empty; they held nothing.

“A tidbit of advice?” he spat, eerily calm and composed. “War taught me that life is just a game of roulette with higher stakes, the prize being your life.” With one swift movement, he pulled the knife from its holster and tossed it to the bed. He wouldn’t be needing it, and neither would you. “It’s not chance that we end up in the circumstances we do. It’s the forces at play.” He applied more pressure to the knife he held at your throat. “Still deluded by the idea of luck, Y/N?”

His eyes flashed then, suddenly coming to life and burning with arrogance and pride. Billy Russo did not half-ass things; just another attribute he learned in the Marines and held steadfast to as CEO. Still as a statue, you were trembling with fear. “Please,” you began, “Don’t–”

You were interrupted by Billy, staring you down, daring you to say another word. “I haven’t decided what to do with you yet. Don’t fuck it up.” He moved his head to the left, then the right, cracking his neck. “The deuce is wild.”

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twilightprince101 · 4 years ago

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A Tale of Scouts - The Dimensional Drifters

I decided to write a fic for my Dimensional Drifters AU! This can serve as a way to let newcomers know what exactly this AU is all about, but also was just really fun and self indulgent for me to write! It was fun as hell imagining how the different characters interact and banter with each other!

This fic was based off a previous post I made for this AU detailing what the different “roles” of everyone would be, this story centering around the scouts/supply runners. If you have no idea what The Dimensional Drifters, check out the “Dimensional Drifters” tag on my blog or click here to check out the carrd detailing my self ship AU’s!

With that out of the way, I hope y’all enjoy!

Far beyond the Earth that so many have come to know, there is a sea of alternate worlds. Some are akin to our own, sharing similarities in their people and places. Others are a far cry from the mundane, revealing what the world would come to if humanity had never existed. There are worlds that connect to other universes, having their culture carry on through literature, while others are doomed to isolation, forever remaining out of touch with the rest of its ocean. Few worlds contain unfathomable creations that no mortal mind can comprehend. Other worlds can just be a chair in a room.

In one of these worlds, sentient life had never been created. No culture, no humans, no form of sapience whatsoever. In their absence, competition for nutrients was nonexistent, allowing organic life to thrive like never before. Trees that began as young saplings now loomed high above the clouds that once hung over them. Plants intermingled with each other freely and developed hybrids that would be the paradise of gardeners and botanists everywhere. But in this endless forest lies a special type of fruit that grants whoever takes a bite hundreds of centuries worth of flavor (if they’ll forgive the migraines that comes from them).

These fruits -and the favors that come with them- are why four sunset toting scouts are braving the dense thickets of trees once more.

“Come on M.T., better hurry up or else I’ll beat you theeerreeee~”

A purple dragon teased behind him as he soars through the woods, weaving in and around the trees and letting wind graze past his scales. To give his opponent a fighting chance to catch up, the drake bucked up his horns and released a gust from his golden wings, looping around a branch overhead. Although in the past he had trouble with flying on his own, after getting so much training in these different adventures it came as natural as breathing. Checking if his fellow racer had managed to catch up the dragon peered over the sunset fabric tied around his tail, spotting the white blob of fur that was only a short hop behind.

“Oh yeah?! We’ll see about that Spyro!!”

Two iron wires shot out from handheld blasters, embedding themselves in a branch overhead. With a click from the triggers the rope began to zip back into its holster, pulling its wielder upwards along with them. As the Moomin soared over the branch he gave both hooks a yank to pull them from the wood, making sure his trajectory was right as he repositioned himself to fire the next shot. With another blast and pull, Moomintroll was next to and keeping pace with his racing rival, his multicolor neckerchief flapping in the wind.

“Don’t get so cocky just because you have that gear on.” Spyro dipped down to avoid an incoming branch. “Back home I could outrace anything! Dinosaurs, UFO’s, even some of my own elders couldn’t keep up!”

“Oh yeah?” The Moomin shot another hook above and yanked hard, his tail grazing the hardwood before momentum carried him back down. “Well I may not be able to fly like you, but there’s one thing I have you don’t!”

“Really? And just what might that be then?”

With a toothy grin the grappler shot another target overhead, retracting the wire once more to zip over top. Only this time as he ascended, he clenched his toes and activated the triggers in his boots. In the blink of an eye an aqua aura expands from his boots and outlines his body like a glaze. With this new glow, instead of hopping over the next branch, Moomintroll hurdles over it and continues to soar upwards, the laws of physics no longer applying to him.

“VICTORY OVER GRAVITY!!!”

The dragon couldn’t help but laugh along with his fellow scout as he flew higher and higher. It was certainly true, he had him beat in that regard. The gear he requested from Lindar and Hat Kid work amazingly together, especially in Moomintroll’s hands. Spyro could remember overhearing him asking the inventors for the gear, wanting to find ways to keep up with everything else. It’s hard to believe now that the kid he used to constantly protect was able to keep pace with him now. All that practice he’s done has really paid off.

“Keep your eyes on the prize Moomintroll!”

From the branches to the two’s right, a small black and white blur bounced from branch to branch. With each step he took his large eyes peered ahead to calculate the next three, blue eyes scanning every possible route forward. As the blur approached a large gap between two branches, he reached into one of his several pouches and pulled out a smoke bomb, slamming it against the tree as he soared, the small explosion propelling him just the right distance to make it to the other side. Even though his two partners could soar through the air, his prior training as a Phantom Thief allowed him to match their speed just from natural ability alone. Although normally it would be hard to spot him, the twilight bandana around his neck helped make the job easier.

“It may seem fun but this forest is dense. Think of this like driving a car, if you don’t keep your eyes on the road you’ll slam into a tree!” The cat said, only sparing split second glances away from the hurdles ahead.

“Morgana, M.T.’s never driven a car. Forest world, remember?” The dragon couldn’t help himself from spitting out a bit of snark.

“W-well, then,” despite his continued proficiency bounding forward, the cat fumbled for a recovery, “riding a bike then! Or sledding!”

“C’mon, lighten up a bit! This is the first time he can let loose like this while on a mission, plus you’ve practically been working him to the bone with those lessons. Let him have some fun!”

“We both know this isn’t a place where you can let loose Spyro.” one of the weaker branches snapped as the paws left its surface, sinking into the blanket of clouds without any audible sound. “One wrong step and he’ll become a pancake down on the forest floor!”

“It’s okay teach, I think I got the hang of this!” The phantom thief’s view of the purple drake was obscured by snow white fluff as Moomintroll bounded alongside him with the glow still surrounding his form and only taking occasional glances down to his mentor. “I’m doing everything you said. Arms to the sides, knees tucked in and all that stuff!”

“You forgot ‘Always on the lookout.’” Both teacher and student kicked off the side of a towering birch, both giving stylish and acceptable somersaults in the air before landing on the next branch. “This is like a test run before we have you come with us to more dangerous worlds, if we were somewhere like the deep sea woods doing this you’d fly right into the mouth of a giant antler-fish! You need to have situational awareness whenever supply running in places like these.”

“But we’re not, right? We know that there isn’t anything here, just plants! This gives me the perfect opportunity to get used to these in the field! Here, let me show you something I’ve been working on, you’ll love this! It’s really good to get more speed, but also a bit stylish, just like how you do it!”

With those last few words both grappling hooks were upholstered and the blue glow around Moomintroll’s form faded. Before Morgana could even get a word out he kicked away from their shared path and winked to him, then turned his attention to the path ahead. For a few seconds the Moomin just fell, descending closer to the coating of fluff as his eyes scanned ahead. Despite knowing just how dangerous the scout was doing, Morgana and Spyro couldn’t help but just watch, paw lingering over a pouch and body positioned to take a dive at a moment’s notice.

Then in a blink of an eye Moomintroll spotted it, the perfect opening. A single branch that had not a single branch below it. It was time for some fun.

The snow-furred explorer shot another two blasts from his grappling hooks, disabling the boots and letting gravity swing him under the branches like a pendulum. Wind howled in his ears and his scarf flew like a flag in a hurricane. As he reached the swing’s trough and began to rise again, he pulled the triggers on both the hooks and boots, enveloping himself in blue light once more as he rose, the speed from his fall being nothing compared to now. With a leg kick and hard pull both hooks were released and the momentum from the swing sent him rocketing ahead of the entire pack, all three sets of eyes directed on him. One impressed, one nervous, one amused.

“WAAAAAHOOOOOO!!!”

But in his exhilaration, he failed to notice the oak tree branch that he was hurtling towards.

“Moomintroll, watch out!!” Morgana dug into his pouch and pulled out a grappling hook of his own, preparing to fire it at the living projectile before it struck its target. But with how far ahead he was and the speed he was travelling, it would be a one in a million shot-

“Don’t worry your little paws off, I got this!”

A flash of green and black energy shot past the phantom thief, barely missing one of his whiskers and throwing off his rhythm leading him to tumble a bit on the branch as he landed. The shot of raw chi flew faster than a bullet and sliced through the tree’s body like a buzz saw, cleaving it perfectly in two. Gravity did its work quickly and the oak toppled to the side, falling beneath the clouds and down to the depths of the forest below.

But even though the tree was gone, the suddenness and shock caused Moomintroll to lose his rhythm.

“WoahwoahwoAHWOAH!!” M.T. waved his arms and kicked his legs in an attempt to reposition himself. In his panic the triggers for the boots were released and the aura vanished. Reality grabbed the Moomin’s tail and yanked down hard. He still had a hold of the grappling hooks but with how much he was flailing his head spun along with the rest of him. Even if he reactivated the boots he would keep the momentum and crash course through the clouds and down to the ground to become a Moomin panini.

Working fast, Spyro folded his wings inward and dove down beneath his fuzzy friend. With his superior flying skills and weight he managed to dive faster than Moomin flailed, catching him on his back with a huff. He was normally used to lighter people riding his back like the kids, in all of the excitement he forgot that this is his friend’s natural weight. M.T. didn’t take up much space on his back at least, with the drake being about the size of a horse.

“You okay back there bud?” Spyro kept his eyes forward to ensure they didn’t make the same mistake twice. It took a moment for the freefaller to realize he wasn’t doing so. When the dragon didn’t get a response, he made sure his flight path was clear and took a peek behind him.

Moomintroll was unharmed, no problem there. Instead of terror or injury, the mystified teen was staring down into the clouds that grazed his feet. His eyes were filled with galaxies as the nature of the situation dawned on him. He was riding above the clouds on a dragon. An actual real life dragon! This was something he had never even dreamed of doing back home before! Holstering his blasters, he reached down and let his hand comb through the fluff. Water droplets collected on his hands as the white fingers combed through the mist. The two could smell the water in the air. Without saying a word Moomintroll looked at his friend with a grin so innocent and full of childlike wonder it would rival Mustache Girl’s first flight.

The dragon just snorted in return, returning his gaze to their upcoming destination.

“Heads up now and buckle up, we’re going in for a landing!” White fuzzy hands gently wrapped around Spyro’s shoulders as he tilted to the side and let his wings carry the two down to their landing pad: a wide oak treetop decorated in mounds. Although it didn’t seem like much, this little base was their home away from home.

After a slow but steady descent, the two touched down on the bark of their base. Unfortunately before Moomintroll could even get off of his friend he was sniped with a reprimand.

“What did I tell you about being careful?!” With one more smoke bomb propelled launch, Morgana touched down onto their home base right in front of the dragon and Moomin. His eyebrows seemingly spiked downwards from the force of the landing.

“I know this may be fun and all, but you need to keep a grip in these situations! If Spyro hadn’t caught you, you would have been plummeting all the way down to the bottom of these trees, and we all know how big of a fall that is!!” Morgana’s tail is puffed and pointing straight up as he scolds his student.

“S-sorry sir!” Moomintroll instinctively bowed down to his mentor, meeting him at eye level. “T-this has just been the most exciting thing I’ve done! I’ve never been able to keep up with you all, but with these,” he gestures to the boots and grappling guns, “I’m able to stay beside you all and not slow you down!!”

“But still, you could have been seriously hurt! Lindar and Hat Kid made those so you could keep up, not to play around! If you’re going to study under me for phantom thief training, you need to understand that-”

“Aw, c’mon teach, lighten up on the kid will ya?”

A teasing voice from the shadows interrupts Morgana, echoing between the oaks. From one of the higher treetops a slim, feline figure overlooks the three while leaning against the trunk without a care in the world. His hazelnut fur would’ve made him hard to spot if it weren’t for his black and red garb and glowing green eyes. The metal clanked against his body as he shifted, his sunset cloth (wrapped around his shoulder like a bangle) sticking out like a sore thumb.

“You heard him good, right? This is the first time he can run with the big shots instead of hanging back doing paperwork. He’s been looking forward to this forever and was doing well too, what’s wrong with a little slip up?

“Ugh, of course he butts into it.” The small thief groans, not even bothering to look in his direction and wishing he could go back to ten seconds ago when he forgot he existed. Both Moomintroll and Spyro spot him but sport polar opposite reactions. Moomintroll waves up at the figure without a hint of wavering.

“Shu Chi, come on down! We’re gonna take a break before getting more of those fruit things!” The clink of yaoguai armor could be heard.

“Naaaah, I think I’m good up here. Might be good to keep lookout, ya know?”

“There’s nothing in this forest, we’ve already established that a while ago!” Spyro’s tail flicks down and knocks on the ground, creating audible thumps that mix with his yells.

“Well you never know unless you know what you know, ya know? There’s no way we know everything about this world, there might be, oh I dunno, giant woodpeckers to go along with these giant trees! Or maybe even giant beavers that’ll chow us up along with the wood!”

“I think you mean termites-”

“My point still stands!” The yaoguai leans his back against the branch, holding two fingers up to his temple as if he’s making a great deduction. “Might be good for someone to keep an eye out, plus it’s plenty comfy up here! By far one of the best trees I’ve rested in.”

The thief and dragon groan, already fed up with his shenanigans. They’ve been through this routine plenty of times before, they know better than to try and pester him further. Moomintroll, though, does not. Pulling off a backpack he’s kept on him, he takes out a small tupperware filled with a few cubes of yellow, flakey, doughy delight.

“I brought some of Mama’s cornbread if you want some!!”

The spirit’s ears perk up upon hearing the word cornbread, peeking down at the small container. His green eyes stare down at the yellow cubes as he stands perfectly still. When a fanged grin shines from the darkness Shu Chi springs into action, leaping off the edge of the treetop and digging his claws into the bark, slowing his descent while spiraling around the trunk. When he reaches the same level as the rest of his fellow scouts, his entire body glows jade green and he springs from the tree like a baseball pitching machine shooting out a green christmas light. Making sure to do a few flips as he falls, the leopard cat slams down into the tree in a battle-ready crouch.

“We get it, you like to show off.” Spyro rolls his eyes as the glowing light dispels from the yaoguai’s body.

Moomintroll opens up the tupperware for the cornbread and holds it up to the leopard cat who happily reaches in to pull out a slice and take a bite. Shu Chi’s eyebrows slope upward after chewing for a moment, unable to help himself from letting out a “Mmm!” from the taste.

“Yor mofor,” Shu Chi swallows a bite and points down at the Moomin, “makes the best cornbread.”

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Within a handful of minutes the four scouts had settled into their camp away from camp. It wasn’t much overall, only a few chairs surrounding a mound protruding from the tree that acted like a table. Moomintroll went around and passed out the snacks he had packed for everyone, making sure to include a slice of cornbread. He decided to save his own for later though, as a Moomin he didn’t need to eat as often as everyone else.

Shu Chi looked over the edge to do lookout as he said. Whatever it was he was looking out for he didn’t know. While hearing a bit of rustling he took a peek behind him to see what everyone else was up to. Morgana and Moomintroll were making their way over to the mound while pulling rolled up parchments from their bag. Spyro on the other hand gladly munched on a bit of steak while stretching his wings, arching his back like a cat about to pounce. Strategy wasn’t exactly his forte, even back in his own world, so he took the moment to relax.

When the dragon noticed the actual cat eyeing him down, he stood upright and returned his gaze with the same amount of wariness. Neither were exactly sure what they were waiting for, scanning for any move they could make until they couldn’t take anymore. Flicking his head up Spyro tossed the last bit of steak into his mouth and chomped down, not once breaking eye contact. Shu Chi turned back around and took a bite of his sandwich, returning his gaze downwards. The arm that bore his multicolor bandle felt a little tingly so he loosened the fabric a tad.

“Alright, so let’s map out our route.” Morgana spoke between bites of fatty tuna, standing up onto one of the chairs. Moomin nodded, pulling out a rolled up map from his backpack and spreading it out over the mound. The parchment held several crude drawings of trees surrounding a small multicolor circle-their entry point. The drawings seemed intricate at first, meticulous in detail, but the farther away they got from the portal the more messy they became. The outer layer is just a green circle scribbled with big green crayon and the words “IT’S ALL JUST TREES!!!”

“The last few times we’ve been here we’ve had to look for specific trees to get the miracle fruits.” The mapper pulled out a red crayon from his bag (it was the only thing Hat Kid gave him with the map) and pointed to a large pine tree that most likely was drawn in five seconds. “This one right here has been our main supply, but considering we’re getting enough for everyone, it won’t be enough.”

“But we know that there are other trees that have this fruit. The first time we came here and explored the ground level, there were some rotten fruits at the base of trees right by the portal.” Morgana circled around the portal with his paw. “But even though those fruits were there, we haven’t been able to get anything from that tree every time we looked.”

“It could just be because the tree has grown too old. Compared to the rest of them, the bark seemed pretty faded.”

“That doesn’t help us though. What we need is to find trees that are young enough to have ripe fruit.” Morgana pulled away from the map to munch thoughtfully on his snack, hoping that it could stimulate his brain. “Mmm… dogh yogh remumbuh wha thuh othah treesh wahr?”

“Hm? Oh yeah, hang on a second.” The cow/hippo hybrid put crayon to paper, taking a moment to think before marking off different trees with a tick mark. When finished the two stepped back, hoping to find some sort of pattern. There were only about eight tick marks on the entire map of the known forest, all dispersed seemingly randomly. Some trees didn’t have fruit anymore, some they have picked once or twice, but all of them combined wouldn’t give them enough for everyone, not even including the timeframe it would take to reach them all.

“Well we can rule out the trees all spreading out from one source.” Mona sighed in frustration and scratched a bit behind his ear. Moomintroll stared speculatively at the map trying to recall any other instances they had found a miracle fruit. Most they found on the ground was on the verge of decomposing if they weren’t already splattered from the fall. Meanwhile the ones they found on the trees were hidden within the leaves, barely visible to the naked eye. If they wanted to make dinner by tonight, they would need to know which trees to hit and only go for those ones.

“How’s it going over here fellas?”

Both Moomintroll and Morgana jump back a bit from the sudden voice right over their shoulders. Morgana once again groaned at the sight of Yan Shu Chi, leaning on one foot with his elbows stretching above his head. Spyro peeked out from behind him, lowered in a preparatory stance just in case he tried anything funny.

“We’re trying to figure out where we should look for miracle fruits next, Leopard.” Mona spits out the name as if it was a cherry pit. The cat seems unphased, stretching a bit more with his eyes closed. “Aren’t you supposed to be keeping watch like you said you would?”

“Meh, I think you guys might’ve been right, there probably isn’t anything here we need to worry about. Besides…” he winks open an eye down to the Phantom Thief. “From the sound of it you need a bit of help over here, kitten~”

“I am NOT a CAT!!!” Morgana hisses and nearly jumps a foot in the air at Shu Chi, barely even trying to hold back a chuckle at the reaction. “We have been over this SEVERAL TIMES!!! I may look like a cat, but I’m far from a hairball spitting animal like you!”

“Aw come on now boss, you really playing this game again?” Shu Chi itches the bottom of his nose with a finger, still looking down at the scout with only one eye. “Look, I’m just sayin’ there’s no harm in just admitting it.”

“I’ll NEVER admit it!!” Mona hisses once more, catching himself on the end. “B-because there’s nothing TO admit!!!”

“Really doing this now, huh? Here, I’ll spell it out for ya.” The yaoguai approaches the cat once more, lowering his arms and reaching down to the phantom thief.

“We both have pointy ears…” Shu Chi tugs a bit at Morgana’s ears, making him let out a little Mrah!!! While trying to bat his hand away.

“We both have claws…” He pinches Mona’s tiny hands, using a paw to tap on said claws that were peeking through his white fur.

“We both have fluffy tails…” Mona jumps a bit when he feels Shu Chi’s tail patting and lifting up his own.

“And of course, we both irresistibly cute~” Shu Chi holds his chin aloft with his fingers underneath, sticking out his tongue a bit and winking to further prove his point.

“Oh actually, wait a minute… That only really applies to me…” False realization takes over his expression as he taps his chin, then snapping his fingers with a playful glance back down. “Maybe you’re not a cat after all! My bad!”

“HEY!!!” Morgana just jumps even higher in the air with his tail erect like a pole, hissing at the audacity of his fellow scout. The leopard cat doesn’t even try to hide his chortling laughter, successfully pissing off the little cat once more. Moomintroll and Spyro both give each other a glance, one of unease and one of annoyance. They were getting nowhere fast.

“Well are you going to help or not then, mister cat?” Spyro knocked the back of his tail onto the yaoguai’s back, knocking him out of his chortling spree. Waving off his mischief and Mona’s attitude as if it were nothing, Shu Chi mutters “fine, fine mr buzzkill…” and peers over the map. As Morgana’s fur smoothes back down the grin across Shu Chi’s face fades away along with it, his expression turning inquisitive and brows furrowing rigorously. Both paws spread out the drawing as he hunches over to get a closer look.

“Oh, did you figure something out Shu Chi?” Moomintroll unclenches the crayon from his teeth, wiping away a few bits of red wax from his mouth. The yaoguai points a claw at one of the tick marks closest to their current location where the drawings still have a hint of effort.

“This tree right here. Isn’t it that one right over there?” His brown and white tail points off into the distance. After going through the same routine Moomintroll nods. The three could see the wheels turning in the leopard cat’s head, claw tapping on the wood as he stared at the bark. It was only when the tapping could be mistaken for a tap dance troupe that it ceased and his head jerked up. He spun back to the map and snatched it up and paced along the perimeter of the base with his face buried in the parchment of crayon and marker.

“Well? Don’t keep us in suspense, tell us!” Morgana and Moomintroll followed close behind but their ally didn’t give a response, only muttering to himself and pointing in different directions. After walking a third of the treetop’s rim, Shu Chi stops again and looks off into the distance with a squint, blinking a few times to be sure.

“Hey purple pal, c’mere for a sec.” Shu Chi motions the dragon over with a wave of his fingers.

“My name is Spyro.”

“Yeah yeah whatever you say Silo. Can you do me a favor and check out that tree over there?” He lowered down to the dragon’s eye level and pointed off into the distance.

“Umm…. the big tree or the big tree?”

“The big tree. As in,” Shu Chi pressed the dragon’s cheek to his, pointing with a claw directly to where he looked so there would be no mistake. “The tree waaaaaaayyyy back there with a broken branch a little lower towards the clouds.”

Although it took a moment the dragon found the broken branch in question. It must have been over fifty meters away, even Spyro was surprised he was able to spot it.

“Uh huh…” The dragon nudged the cat with his horns to shove him away. “And why exactly should I do that?”

Shu Chi, brimming with confidence, looks down to the dragon with eyebrows raised and a knowing glint in his eyes.

“Humor me.”

Both exchange cold stares with the other. The dragon is well aware of the mischief that the yaoguai brings, he’s seen plenty of it from how much he lies back at camp. A stolen hat from Moominpappa, a few swapped plates in the dining hall; nothing explicitly harmful, but enough to get himself on enough nerves he could make a harp out of them all. For all he knows this could be another elaborate prank, planting something in the tree to get a reaction out of him. But despite all the tail knocks and suspecting glares, Shu Chi’s expression never once changes, unwavering even in the face of a dragon.

After an overexaggerated eye roll and sigh, Spyro spread his wings, hunched down, then let the wind cary his wings as he flew into the distance to follow his ally’s request.

The phantom thief and Moomin rush to where he lifted off to watch as he flies up and away into one of the tree’s leaves. Although initially hesitant about Spyro following the advice of somebody who mocked him moments before, the anticipation began to well up within Morgana right alongside his student. Meanwhile the yaoguai waltzes up behind them, double checking the map to make sure he’s got it right. It was taking a few seconds longer than he expected. Maybe he pointed to the wrong tree? But after his ears catch a far off gasp a wide, toothy grin breaks out across his face.

“JACKPOT!!!”

An explosion of leaves bursts from the distant blur of green vanishing to show a blur of purple and gold. The dragon is brimming with enthusiasm and vitality compared to when he took Shu Chi’s request, his flight path becoming much more wild and varied than his previous straightforward line. He rolled, flipped and spun more than his first ever flight session. Moomintroll and Morgana followed him around the tree as he took a victory lap, all the while Shu Chi rolled up the crayon map and held it on his shoulder like a baseball star.

The reason for such a sudden boost in enthusiasm was clear: in each claw, wrapped in his tail and even perched in his maw was a plump, bright orange, football sized fruit.

After letting go of the edible ambrosia and piling them up, the dragon slammed down so hard that cracks shot out from his landing pad. All three of the starstruck scouts circled around the small treasure trove of spice fruit, marvelling at the horde their friend had brought in.

“There’s a whole bunch of them in there!!! I just grabbed as many as I could, but there must still be around ten of them!” Spyro circled the small pile like a dragon examining its treasure horde, marvelling at its beauty.

“Th-this is amazing!! We’ve only been able to find one or two every time we’ve searched, with this much alone we could get enough for TWO feasts!!!” The small not-a-cat couldn’t control how much his tail was wagging, already salivating at the thought of being able to eat so much.

“Well, minus one.” The leopard cat bent over and picked up one of the five orange footballs, examining four little holes on opposite sides. Spyro wiped away a bit of orange juice from his cheek.

Shu Chi tosses the fruit over his shoulder, not bothering to eat anything that already had teeth sinked into it.

“Thankfully, we should be able to get plenty more where that came from. If we just pick the rest from the tree over there, we’ll be set for the night! Maybe even have a few extra servings cooked up for us as well. I don’t know about you all, but I’d gladly eat an entire pan of that cornbread!” The cat stroked the fur on his chin, dreaming of the mountains of golden, flakey delights he’d get as a reward back home. Moomintroll made a mental note to tell Mama when he got back home as he approached.

“Shu Chi this is amazing!! How did you know so many were in that tree?!” The Moomin bounced on the balls of his feet in front of the yaoguai, eager to know his secrets.

“Hm? Oh, well I didn’t know that this many would be in there, but... “ His head jerked a bit upwards when he spoke-most likely being knocked out of his flakey fantasies-but the spirit gladly smirked and unfurled the map, pointing to the center where actual effort can be seen.

“You see how all these trees here actually have detail? Now, do you see this one here with a few more branches at the bottom than the rest?” A claw points to the single center tree with a tick mark. “Even though the rest after this circle decreases in quality, those kids still went through the effort of drawing every little detail for this group. And as luck would have it,” he points to where Spyro found his treasure trove of miracle fruit, right around where it begins to dip into the layer of clouds, “that one over there has a fair bit of extra stumps on the side, wouldn’t you say?”

The dragon, Moomin and thief all followed Shu Chi’s claw to the jackpot tree once more. It took time for their eyes to adjust, but sure enough there were traces of branches near the base of the clouds. It was too much of a coincidence to be a prank he set up.

“So this whole time… we had it all wrong! There wasn’t any sort of pattern or discoloration, it was just just how many branches there were!!” A small paw paps onto Mona’s head, the realization hitting it harder than an electrified punch from Likulau.

“Yup! That’s right, I managed to figure out something that you didn’t knooowww~” A larger paw paps onto Mona’s head, rubbing the fur hard like an oversized noogie and ruffling it all up, only earning Shu Chi more hisses and growls. “I guess that means the student has become the master, yes? Gotta say, for someone so small I’m worried about you becoming a bit senile.”

“It was only a minor slip up!” Morgana batted away the giant paw, smoothing down the top of his head. “With what little resources we have, it’s only natural we couldn’t figure it out right away.”

“Aw come on now, there’s no shame in admitting you couldn’t do it. I mean if you really are getting too old for this job I can happily take over for you, no questions asked. Wouldn’t it be great to retire on a nice, warm beach somewhere after all your one years of work with us?”

“Oh be quiet you, you’ve been here less time than I have and a year is barely even that long!”

Moomintroll looked back and forth between the two as their tones increased with intensity, thoping he didn’t have to step in. Shu Chi had caused more than his fair share of mischief in the past, but the Scouts had this chaos injected into their lives via daily doses, a full 50 CC’s of mischief and teasing every day. After nearly a year in the group, the Moomin has gained the title of peacemaker by necessity.

Spyro could see the anxiety welling up in his friend. Already antsy, he stepped forward, raising his tail up like a teacher and their ruler.

“For the last time! I’m not OLD, I’m not SENILE, and I’m NOT A CAT!!”

“You sure you don’t wanna take me up on that offer? I have plenty of things I could teach the kid you know. Maybe…” A flash of a toothy smile. “Felinology?”

“Why you lITTLE-”

“Would you two stop bickering already?”

As a paw reached into one of Mona’s tool pouches and swirling energy manifested around Shu Chi’s arm, the golden tip of Spyro’s tail slapped the yaoguai’s hand away like a nunchuck attached to a whip. With a yelp of pain the yaoguai backed off while flicking his hand back and forth to soothe the pain.

“S-spyro-”

“Don’t worry M.T., I’ll handle it.” Although it was meant to be reassuring, Spyro’s glance and nod back didn’t help suppress the feeling in his friend’s stomach.

“Aw c’mon Gyro, I was only ki-”

“Shut your trap already!”

Shu Chi shut his trap already.

“We just found the motherload of spice fruits and know where to look for even more! Both of you remember the first time we ate this stuff, how we almost spent an hour eating these in just tiny bites, can you imagine eating an entire all-you-can-eat buffet with these as the main dish?! If we get all of them from that tree we could be back in an hour! So quit the teasing and arguing and let’s just get going already!”

Spyro stomped right up to the two and got right up in their faces. As he spoke his eyes took periodic glances back at the pile of football fruits. After getting a direct taste from one of those miracle spices himself, it was only natural that they were the main thing on his mind. He must have been holding himself back from gorging the rest of the miracle fruit he had eaten earlier. Although they taste like the heavens, eating an entire fruit so fast would be like chugging a swimming pool’s worth of vodka.

Both Morgana and Spyro locked eyes with their object of annoyance. Shu Chi’s gaze flicked back and forth, not just to their eyes but everywhere else. Mona’s paws lowering to his toolbelt, Spyro’s brows narrowing, Moomintroll’s hand inching forward; he scanned the situation in front of him like a machine looking for errors. The way the cat’s stance shifted ever so slightly didn’t escape the Moomin’s eyes either, knees just barely bent and feet slid around an inch farther apart. It was subtle, precise, muscle memory.

After the leopard was done sizing up the situation, he took a breath and relaxed his stance, showing both of them his back. His tone was lower, more monotone.

“Alright, fine, I got the memo.” Shu Chi walked back to the mound, waving a hand over his shoulder. “You all get back to doing what you were doing, don’t let me keep you.”

“Ah, okay.” Mona scoffed. “Not even gonna help us then.”

“Would you even want me to?”

No words were spoken between the four of them. Although his back was turned to them, the tension still wasn’t lifted. This wasn’t the worst it’s ever gotten between the three of them. At the very least it’s the fastest Shu Chi has ever backed down, Moomintroll was thankful for that at least.

Morgana smoothed down his ruffled fur and hopped off the stump, glancing to the dragon with crossed arms as he tipped his head to the cracks in the tree. He got the message. Moomintroll took a breath as they walked away, unable to tell himself if it was one of relief or exhaustion. Shu Chi looked down into the sea of clouds, paw tapping as both prepared for liftoff. As Spyro spread his wings and Mona kneeled down, the leopard’s ears managed to pick up a faint mumble.

“I told you before, you can’t let him get to you like that.”

Then the two were off once more, flying and bounding from branch to branch as they went off for another trip to the miracle fruit tree.

Moomintroll and Shu Chi were left alone on the tree top, both simply trying to process the events that had just occurred. One didn’t know what to say, the other didn’t want to say anything. The pacifier glanced back at his friends, then to Shu Chi. Even though his face couldn’t be seen, the paws shoved into his armor and mumbling told the story for him.

The yaoguai turned around and walked to the mound where they sat before, spreading out the rolled up map and grabbing a few of the fruits as paperweights. The usual flair and showmanship from before was gone as he carefully examined the parchment, taking note of the different tick marks and the detail of the inner circle. Little white feet stepped closer to him.

“Um, Shu Ch-”

“I’m gonna look around the forest a bit more,” he interrupted, “try and find a few more trees that could have these fruits. Now that we know what these look like, it wouldn’t hurt to know where some more are in the future. Never know when we might have to come back here again.”

Moomintroll just stood in place for a few moments, just watching as he took the red crayon and circled the tree he deduced the pattern from. He unwrapped a few bandages from his arm and held them in his palm to write down any additional differences between the two he didn’t see before. Although the white-fluff mediator felt like Shu Chi was at fault for the teasing, he still felt partially to blame for the argument getting out of hand. Spyro tried to be nice and handle it for him and he appreciated the effort, but he also wished the dragon handled it a bit less harshly.

“I can already tell what you’re thinking,” Moomintroll shut his mouth before a word could even be said, “and let me stop you right there. I know fully well it's my fault we almost started fighting, so you don’t have to give me a speech from the heart about learning when I’m in the wrong or whatever.”

“Th-that wasn’t-”

“Look, I’m sorry, alright? I keep forgetting that not everyone here likes my antics. Back home gramps, Kulau and L-they all eventually… got used to me. I can’t help it at times.” The tone of the leopard cat’s voice didn’t change, but he was now leaning in a little closer to his hand to jot down details. Crayon on bandages doesn’t work too well though, especially on a soft surface. “You can tell the guys I said sorry if you want. Doubt they’d believe me, but it’s up to you.”

Moomintroll felt like he was playing tug of war with himself. He wanted to go up to him and say something, but kept holding himself back since he didn’t know if it would be appropriate to do so. Usually whenever Shu Chi got upset, he’d go off and do something for the Drifters as an apology, not wanting to talk about it afterwards. But even still, he could feel that the yaoguai would leave at any moment.

Right as Shu Chi finished with his notes, the Moomin managed to force the words from his throat.

“I-I’m… sorry.”

The cat’s head raised up a bit, fingers hovering over the parchment with the crayon in between them.

“I… I understand how you feel. About not feeling like you fit in here.”

“Kid… you don’t need to-”

“Just listen a bit, please?” Fuzzy feet stepped silently closer on the treetop. “I know you don’t like talking about this stuff, so I’ll just say this and then you can go. Promise.”

A sigh and a clattering of a crayon. Yan Shu Chi returned to stand straight up, head aimed down at the notes he’s written. His ears are pointed backwards.

“Shoot.”

“U-um… back when me, Mamma and Pappa first joined everyone. The world we came from was a lot different from everyone else’s. Nothing much happened, especially compared to everyone else’s. It was so peaceful there, we didn’t have to worry-”

“I’m sorry, but could you get to the point please?” The yaoguai cut him off fast, feeling he was going to be roped into a long winded speech about his home. His manner of speaking had a sense of urgency, of wanting to leave the conversation fast. But there wasn’t malice within it. Moomintroll took another deep breath.

“Everyone treated me like a kid. Moreso than the actual kids there. They’ve been through so much more than us even though I’m much older. I didn’t catch on to some jokes people told, they didn’t understand me when I tried to find good parts to bad situations, I didn’t even know what sarcasm was at first. We never had stuff like that back home. It was just how things were.”

Shu Chi could remember that part well. Lin Hu, Likulau and himself joined a little after the Moomins had. Their nearly always optimistic logic baffled some of them, like the time Likulau and Bubba got into an argument that ended up with a few broken plates. It was after Moominmamma had spent a while making everyone a meal, using some of their own plates to serve people. With so many people from so many worlds, there would clearly be a bit of discord at first.

Although others began to scold both sides after the fight, Mamma just shrugged it off and sweeped up the shards, smiling and talking about how she could use the fragments for decorations. She didn’t blame the two for arguing, saying they both had some pent up feelings and needed to talk it out. Everyone else was dumbstruck, Shu Chi especially.

“But after being part of this group for so long, people are now treating me normally, like I’m part of the team. They got used to the way we act, accepting us as we are. It took some time, sure, but we’re still here. A-and… although I do think you should maybe… not, tease, as much…” Saying those last few words were a struggle on their own, but he swallowed the lump in his throat and forced the last bit out.

“I’m sure people will do the same with you. You deserve to be in this group just as much as everyone else.”

Only the sound of wind rustling the leaves filled the two’s ears for a moment. Moomintroll wasn’t sure if he overstepped his boundaries, he noticed he’s done that quite a bit since joining unfortunately. But no matter what the scout’s reaction was, Moomintroll had managed to tell him his thoughts. As he promised, he wouldn’t try to keep him or talk more than necessary. All he hoped was that Shu Chi understood he meant it.

A shift in Shu Chi’s posture knocked the peacemaker out of his head. The movement was slow and gradual, like a robot swivelling from its spot on the floor. With his unbandaged hand grazing the mound, Moomintroll could see a hint of the yaoguai’s face. He seemed conflicted about what to say, brows furrowed but his mouth not contorting into any sort of frown. It was as if he were still wary of him, wary of everything he said and was struggling just as much as him to force out any words.

With a gulp in his throat and adjusting the sunset bangle a tad, Yan Shu Chi sucked up his feelings and turned to face his fellow drifter, seemingly having made a decision. His eyes held a certain softness to them and the faintest hint of a smile could be seen on his face.

“Yeah…” He nodded a bit. “Yeah. Thanks bud.”

Moomintroll just nodded. That was all he needed to hear.

Shu Chi lifted his bandage notes back up, reminding himself of where exactly he needed to go. A quick glance back to the tree where Spyro found the fruits had Moomintroll spot a bit of movement in the leaves. They would be back soon, and Shu Chi would most likely leave before then. Seeing as he said what he wanted to say-

“Oh!”

Moomintroll’s head popped up, realizing something at the last second. As Shu Chi walked to the rim of the treetop, M.T. rushed over to his backpack that he left by the mound. Right as the leopard cat kneeled down and chi swarmed around his legs, Moomintroll found what he was looking for.

“Shu Chi, wait up a second!”

The cat’s ears perked up, the swirling energy dissipating before it could even be used.

“C’mon kid, I thought you said I could go after that. Going back on your promises isn’t a cool thing to do you know.” The usual mischievousness had returned to his voice as he turned around, hand on his hip as his head bent forwards.

But to his surprise, what he found was a small, flakey, golden cube held up right to his face. The last slice of cornbread.

“Here. As a way of saying thank you. None of us had figured out the pattern with the trees, if you hadn’t helped we probably wouldn’t have been able to figure it out. You deserve it.”

Out of all the things able to make a century old yaoguai speechless, nobody would have expected a simple snack to do the trick.

With a delicate pinch Shu Chi picked up the slice, a few crumbs remaining in the white palm of who offered it. He was half expecting him to ask for it back for a bite since he hadn’t eaten anything yet, but no confirmation for that was given, just a simple smile.

“Keh…” The yaoguai couldn’t hold back a snicker, taking his free paw and ruffling up the top bit of Moomin’s head. He was a bit protestant, but couldn’t resist laughing along with him while gently trying to pat his paw away.

“You’re alright Moomintroll. You’re alright.”

Both sharing a smile together, the two drifters nodded to each other and waved, getting back to what they had came to this world to do. Moomintroll slipped into his boots and put on his grappling hook holsters as Shu Chi scarfed down the corn cube, relishing in its taste. Later that night, he would eat to his heart’s content, perhaps even share a bit with his other scouts. Time would tell by then.

Both approached the rim of the treetop, kneeling down close to each other as their respective auras surrounded their bodies. Right as they were about to leap away, an idea hit Shu Chi.

“Hey Moomintroll, how ‘bout we play a game? You and me.” The mapper’s head perked up, his hands only just reaching down to the holsters. “Whoever comes back to camp with more fruit wins the right to pie the other in the face at dinnertime, flavor of the winner’s choosing. Whadda ya say?”

A wide grin split across the Moomin’s face, his mind racing with possibilities of what to do if he won. With a snicker, Moomintroll holds up both blasters and makes eye contact with his new rival.

“You’re on.”

10 notes · View notes

circeart · 4 years ago

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2020’s Mind-Blowing Jupiter/Pluto Conjunction: Shadow & Light By

Dana Gerhardt

Seven of the ten deadliest pandemics in human history erupted during Jupiter/Pluto transits—just like the conjunction that peaks this year in April, June, and November.

Jupiter and Pluto were conjunct during the outbreak of the Spanish Flu in 1918. Bubonic plague–the Black Death–ravaged Europe, Asia and Africa from the J/P conjunction of 1347 to their opposition in 1353. Jupiter was trine Pluto during one of humanity’s very first pandemics, the Plague of Justinian, which killed 25 million in 541. In modern times, the Lord of death and shadows (Pluto) has joined forces with the God of growth and expansion (Jupiter) during our five most recent pandemics.

Yet Jupiter and Pluto are gift givers too. Astrology teaches there are no shadows without light. These conjunctions, occurring about every 12 years, have also coincided with humanity’s greatest leaps forward. Together, Sky God Jupiter and his brother the Underworld Lord keep expanding our universe, triggering scientific breakthroughs, awakening new paradigms, distributing mega-wealth, and inspiring sweeping shifts in political power.

Johannes Kepler was born during a Jupiter/Pluto conjunction in Pisces, when most of the globe still believed that planets circled the Earth in perfect round orbits. At 24 (his Jupiter return), Kepler has a mind-blowing epiphany about the solar system’s true design; it’s published a year later, during the 1596 Jupiter/Pluto conjunction. Under a later conjunction, Kepler publishes the work for which he’s most famous—his planetary laws of motion—still used in calculations today. **

Hans Lipperhey applies for the first telescope patent in 1608, under a Jupiter/Pluto conjunction. In the following months, Galileo, the father of observational astronomy, builds his first telescope, through which he observes four of Jupiter’s moons, the first space objects seen orbiting a planet other than Earth. Three hundred sixty years later, after so many Jupiter/Pluto gifts, humanity takes its greatest leap yet, beyond Earth. Neil Armstrong leaves his footprints on the Moon within orb of the 1968-69 Jupiter/Uranus/Pluto conjunctions.

Spread the wealth

Pluto is a god of wealth—Jupiter rules good fortune. You might expect these archetypes to have blessed our billionaires. And they have. Warren Buffet, Rupert Murdoch, George Soros, Bill Gates—all born during a Jupiter/Pluto conjunction. Charles Koch was born with a Jupiter/Pluto trine (as was an earlier financier & philanthropist, JP Morgan). Koch’s brother David was born during their square (as was steel tycoon Andrew Carnegie nearly a century earlier).

But if you’re hoping Jupiter/Pluto might bring you a mega-lottery win this year, think again. Jupiter is an optimist who loves to roll the dice, but when dancing with Pluto, he favors hard work that’s born of obsession. That’s how scientific geniuses and billionaires are made—they think big (Jupiter) with formidable focus (Pluto).

What about the wealth of the common man? I’ll argue that the last three J/P conjunctions have increased this beyond measure, even as the divide between the haves and have-nots has grown wider than it’s been (some say) in all of human history. But first we have to expand our perception of wealth beyond the dollars in our bank accounts. Jupiter is a god of perspective—he favors higher, longer, and broader views.

With that mindset consider how the gifts of the 1981, 1994 and 2007 J/P conjunctions have thoroughly reshaped our world, bestowing the average man with powers beyond that of any king or emperor in history.

In 1981 IBM releases the first personal computer. Computing power that used to require a floor of bulky machines is now small enough to become a home appliance. Soon after, the internet is in development—which will eventually put whole libraries at our fingertips. Many of our greatest emperors spent massive piles of gold on developing their libraries. Today–for free–we can explore the works of mankind’s greatest thinkers.

During the 1994 J/P conjunction, the first PlayStations are released—opening the collective imagination to countless interactive new worlds. How do we calculate the ways these games have rewired possibilities inside the human brain? That year, Bezos launches Amazon—so that today, we can sit in our homes, desiring a book or a toothbrush and like an emperor, clap our hands, and have it delivered in an hour or a day. In 2007, the iPhone is released. It quite literally drops the universe into our palms. What king could have commanded views of the birth of a star? Now any child can do this.

But let’s get back to money. How might this year’s conjunction affect our wealth? Covid-19-inspired quarantines have halted economies around the world—prompting talk in the United States of relief efforts that would serve as the greatest wealth distribution in human history, a gesture fitting for these two planets. It’s reminiscent of the Pluto/Jupiter aspects of the early 30’s during the Great Depression—the New Deal was passed in the years between the J/P conjunction and the square. Big bold action is often required when these two planets meet. During the 1943 conjunction, FDR enlists the whole nation in a massive unified war effort.

It helps to remember that Jupiter is also a philosopher. For many, the most honest measure of wealth is having the free time to enjoy their lives—a sudden gift of this year’s pandemic. Time is perhaps the one thing more valuable than money. A homeless man has greater wealth than the dead billionaire. With life and astrology we always have a choice: we can focus on the shadow or the light. We can obsess (Pluto) about our common poverty. Or we can use this sudden abundance of hours to leap beyond our own limits. We can use Jupiter’s massive exuberance to boost our Plutonian passions.

As when–during the J/P conjunction of 2007–NASA’s New Horizon spacecraft uses the boost of Jupiter’s gravity to slingshot itself toward Pluto! **

Political pendulums swing

People focus on Pluto’s destruction—but empowerment is his favorite game. During J/P conjunctions, political power can swing dramatically. These are the years when we see regime changes, stunning political landslides, assassinations, and the birth of social movements.

Within orb of the 1931 Jupiter/Pluto conjunction, Mahatma Gandhi, himself born under a J/P conjunction, leads one of the most powerful nonviolent campaigns. He marches 241 miles across western India to get salt from the ocean, in defiance of the British ban against Indians collecting it or selling it. Spain becomes a republic; King Alfonso XII is deposed. Under the next conjunction in 1943, during World War II, Mussolini resigns; Italy surrenders. Assassination attempts on Hitler and the Philippines president fail.

Argentinian President Peron is ousted under the beams of the 1956 J/P conjunction, when Morocco gains independence from France & Spain, Churchill resigns, and Khrushchev shocks the Soviets by denouncing Stalin; the de-Stalinization of Russia begins. In the US, Rosa Parks refuses to give up her seat—and a young Martin Luther King helps lead the Montgomery Bus Boycott.

At the next J/P conjunction in 1968, under the weight of the Vietnam War, President Johnson stuns the country by declining to run for re-election. Throughout the year, around the world, workers and students take to the streets in mass protests against social and economic inequalities. In the US, the Civil Rights Act is passed.

Under this same conjunction, Robert Kennedy and Martin Luther King are assassinated. At the next conjunction in 1981, Egyptian President Sadat is killed; attempts are made on newly elected President Reagan and Pope John Paul II. That same year, Nelson Mandela (born during the J/P conj of 1918) inspires one of the world’s earliest hashtags, “Free Mandela.” This cry starts gathering momentum around the world, and by the next Jupiter/Pluto conjunction, in 1994, Mandela, now freed, is elected the first black president of South Africa.

What happens is always surprising

I had hoped for wild regime changes this year. Though honestly, I hadn’t given Jupiter/Pluto much thought. Like many astrologers, I’ve been fixated on the Big Saturn/Pluto Restructuring and how it all ends this year—with the birth of a new collective cycle, signified by the Great Jupiter/Saturn conjunction in progressive Aquarius. I had hoped these omens were pointing to rising power for the people, a mass multi-cultural movement of women and millennials who would stare down the structures corrupt with greed and forge a new world, one that would benefit those at the bottom as much as those at the top!

Alas the future always glitters in a progressive’s eyes. And now that I know more about J/P conjunctions, I also know they don’t guarantee success. Just ask the air traffic controllers or the Polish Solidarity workers—whose 1980/81 rebellions were crushed by those in power. Jupiter and Pluto point to this great woosh of universal energy, erupting in massive expansion, but as with any explosion, there is darkness and light, destruction and birth. How many people grabbed high mortgages during the J/P conjunction of 2007, just one year before home values crashed? And if you want to know why toilet paper is flying off the shelves, blame Pluto (god of excrement) fueled by Jupiterian excess.

In truth Jupiter and Pluto don’t cause what happens below. They’re omens. Astrology is an art of symbols. Planetary motion tracks for us the otherwise invisible waves and patterns of universal energy. The Covid-19 virus is having its best year ever. As magnificent as our leap to the Moon, it has jumped into a new species and is conquering territories all over the world. It’s breathtaking. And their spaceship? Pluto’s agents! Bats and their guano.

But even wilder is what’s happening among humans now. Just one month ago, around the globe, people were hopelessly divided, right vs left, globalists vs nationalists, as democratic values collided with dictatorships. And now, with a snap of the cosmic fingers, we’re One World. We’re rallied and unified. What the amazing Greta Thunberg couldn’t do for climate change, was accomplished by a virus. The surge in national compassion that didn’t erupt when families were broken apart at the border, now erupts everywhere. “We’re in this together.” What Elizabeth Warren and Bernie Sanders couldn’t achieve—inspiring the nation to strengthen its social safety nets, reign in corporate greed, and make health care available to all–this is suddenly being discussed in Congress, without a regime-changing election.

There was another moment like this, of overwhelming unity. It came during the J/P conjunction that took us to the Moon. But it wasn’t seeing that footprint or the planted flag that made us gasp with wonder. It was what we saw when we turned around—our very first view of that blue jewel, our whole Earth, floating in the dark vacuum of space. That single startling sight rippled us forward into a new awareness of the fragility of our ecology. It reawakened us to our interconnection with—and responsibility for—all life on this planet. A year later we held the first Earth Day. We were recycling. We were talking about alternative energies. We took measures to save disappearing species and habitats. Maybe it didn’t go far or fast enough, but our future trajectory was changed. The J/P conjunctions of 2020 are just beginning. Who knows what else they will bring!

Were you born during a Jupiter/Pluto conjunction?

Bill Gates was lucky to be born in 1955, wrote Malcolm Gladwell in Outliers. Gates was born just a few months before the J/P conjunction of 1956. Gates was lucky, said Gladwell, that local parents got together in 1968 (the next conjunction) and purchased a computer for his school. The opportunity to learn coding came to him at 13, during the year of his Jupiter return, when most of us find our life’s passion. Gates was lucky that he was just the right age to roll the dice when tech began taking off. He founded Microsoft during the 1975 Jupiter/Pluto opposition (which fell across his natal Moon/Mars opposition).

Jupiter and Pluto aren’t personal planets. Jupiter indicates the luck that comes to us through society—this is what’s called a “social” planet. Pluto is an “outer” planet; it defines generations. Both are zeitgeist planets—they describe the times. So it wasn’t just Gates, Gladwell argues. All those who made it big in high-tech were lucky to be born around this time, like Bill Joy, Paul Allen, Steve Jobs. Gladwell puts the peak at 1955, but says it actually stretches from 1952 to 1958–which is from the J/P trine to the sextile.

Below is a table of recent J/P conjunctions. If these aren’t your birth years, you may have been born during the years of other aspects. Check your birth chart. Are Jupiter and Pluto connected?

DateDegree April/June/November 202024/22 Capricorn December 200728 Sagittarius December 199428 Scorpio November 198124 Libra October 196823 Virgo February/June 195627/26 Leo August 19436 Leo May 193118/19 Cancer August 19185/6 Cancer

What happens for societies goes much slower than what happens for individuals. Jupiter/Pluto conjunctions are like a wave that peaks at the conjunction, but starts rolling the year before and continues the year after. We wouldn’t use such orbs in a birth chart—but we should use them to understand the time. And whether or not you have a Jupiter/Pluto aspect in your birth chart, this energy is in the zeitgeist now. We can all have a taste of its magic, if we’re willing to use it.

More on how to do that in my next article, Making the Jupiter/Pluto Conjunction Work for You.

How is the conjunction affecting you? First check the house (and/or planets) where 24 Capricorn falls in your chart. Are you getting transits this year? Steven Forrest’s fabulous Skylog report will tell you (order here). Mary Shea’s brilliant Solar Return report adds extra insight (order here). The SR is a divination chart calculated for your birthday. The house where Jupiter and Pluto falls in the SR is telling.

** This and more is in Patrick Watson’s exhilarating article on Jupiter and Pluto–check it out!

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About Dana Gerhardt

A popular columnist with The Mountain Astrologer since 1991, Dana Gerhardt is an internationally respected astrologer. She has lectured extensively and written for astrology publications on several continents. Her ongoing passions are the moon and living the intuitive life. Dana worked for many years in the corporate sector, where she observed the undeniable influence of natural cycles. She graduated Phi Beta Kappa, Magna Cum Laude from Occidental College in Los Angeles and did graduate work in literature at Columbia University and CSULA. Dana can be contacted by email.

#astrology #jupiter pluto conjunctions #jupiter pluto #wealth

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