#there are eyes in undergrowth's design but they hard to make out at first glance

[lonelysheepling]

Okay so my first exposure to Danny Phantom was through written works, so I didn't know what a lot of the characters actually looked like until later on when I finally decided to google certain characters. And I got to say... the box ghost was probably the most disappointing of those reveals. I had been picturing a ghost that was inhabiting a box (like a hermit crab). I was not picturing a small man in overalls. So here's my box ghost redesign.

To go with this, here's what I was picturing for some of the other ghosts, I had more physical descriptions to go off of for some of these. I drew: two variations for Nocturne (I actually still don't know what he looks like bc I refused to google it after seeing Undergrowth's canon design), Lunch Lady, Walker, and Undergrowth (I refuse to acknowledge the canon design)

Undergrowth (in my head) is like 8-12 ft tall

[brigirl3]

DbD Fanfic Chapter 2

Still haven’t thought of a title..  If you cannot find part 1, this fanfic is also on Ao3 under “ Trial Run ( Please give me feedback! )”

Enjoy

The return to camp was dire, between the panic running and the blaring of the sound nothing could be said.  Tensions were high and the fact that you couldn’t keep up would be a death sentence, barely anyone would stop to help you.  It was uncertain what would happen if they were injured or even killed outside of the trial, someone would have to be mad to find out.  The flame of the Fire grew bigger and bigger indicating their approach upon the main camp.  Out of breath as they ran the whole way back, they all collectively passed out around the base of the circular pit.  For awhile nobody dared to say anything, the fear of the siren was drilled into their minds and they weren’t stupid enough to forget the danger it carried with it.  2 people came forth from the group that opted to stay behind curious to see what the commotion was.  Quentin approached looking as ragged as ever while Feng rushed over to Meg.  Before Meg could say anything, she snatched some of the fish away from her, “ WHat the-,” then she ran off.  “ YEA IM OK THANKS.”  Jake couldn’t help but chuckle at the scene unfolding before him, “Still charming as ever.”  Meg huffed before rolling on her side, a hopeless attempt to better her irregular breathing.  Quentin assessed the group, whatever little food they had was all over the place and the people were near death’s doorstep after that hellish run.  “..Is there anything I can do?”  His voice had a deep and raspy tone, like a cold had an unrelenting grip on his throat; it carried a weird but comforting charm to it.   Dwight gave him a warm smile, “ No Quinn but thanks for asking.”  Nea was slouched over her knees, “ I fucking hate this place,” frustrated she tried to stand, her body nearly betrayed her but she caught herself.  “ We all know what that siren means a little too well.”  Annoyance took over her face but it disappeared as she turned to Dwight, a playful smirk replaced it,  “ So What’s the plan boss?  How shall we prepare for battle?”  At a loss for words and breath he glanced in Bill’s direction.  Bill straightened himself before speaking up, “ Ok.. let’s all just try to get some sleep it has been a long night.”  Their group looked dead on their feet, barely able to stand up straight or listen to anything without fighting the urge to pass out from exhaustion or lack of breath.  “ We can’t go into the next trial like this, better come prepared to fight than give the enemy an easy victory.”  Dwight nodded in approval of Bill’s words, he then gave his signature smile of reassurance that was their hope and driving force.  With nothing else left to say Bill dismissed everyone off to bed.  

The camp around the Fire wasn’t much but it was something resembling home, there were designated rooms or dwellings here and there for specific people.  Other than that the camp was a pretty open area.  Rooms contained certain things that were relevant to a specific survivor, anything from interests to who they were before the entity claimed them was up for grabs.  Naturally the only way to get these items was to do consistently well or amuse their “god” during the trials.  Everyone is granted a bed when they first arrive, which is so generous of the entity considering the fact that it enslaved them for an indefinite period of time.  Other than that, another way to decorate their rooms was with items that were on their person when they were snatched in the heat of the moment.  Despite the treatment the survivors were subjected to daily, one piece of solace was their rooms and how it reminded them of the world they knew. 

David hung back as his fellow brethren shifted about uncomfortably, he leaned heavily on a rock as he looked on watchfully.  The warmth of the fire licked his face and arms giving off a tender sensation as everyone’s breath finally began to regulate.  For a while he did not move, the fire seemingly danced and tangoed with his thoughts.  As the others stumbled off to their rooms he waited for the last person to file out before heading off himself.  He barely took a few steps away from the Fire before the cool breeze tugged at his body, eager to steal away whatever lingering warmth his skin carried.  Walking along through the night the moon gave light to his path as he came upon his room.  Bundles of cream sheets swallowed a few trees to give the illusion of an actual closed off area.  A low hanging curtain acted as an entrance, David lightly pushed it aside to reveal a dimly lit room.  The only source of light was the moon and even then it was barely let in by this structure.  Slivers of light snuck in further past the curtain when it was pulled back but other than that it was dim inside.  It always took a few minutes for his eyes to adjust but it never bothered him too much.  In the far left corner a black punching bag hung lopsided while a few items were strewn across the ground, his bed consisted of a pallet surrounded by thick blankets with fluffy pillows.  Despite the lack of light it was damn near perfection in David’s eyes, he began to undress when he felt someone grab him from behind.  Startled, he instinctively jabbed his elbow backwards and was about to follow up with a right when he heard a shrill cry of pain.  Blinking a few times, his eyes adjusted to see Cheryl wriggling on his bed in pain.  “ Cheryl what the fuck!!,” despite his tone of voice he still knelt beside her; his attention on inspecting her injury.  “What made you think it was a good idea to sneak up on me?!”, she tried to answer but could only respond in gasps and grunts of pain.  Seeing her like that stuck him with guilt, he relaxed and watched as she began to form words again.  A quiet laugh escaped from Cheryl, he couldn’t see her face properly but it was good to hear she wasn’t hurt too badly.  “ I just wanted to say thank you, for to-,” coughing interrupted the space between them.  Stricken with guilt he patted her head, “ Don’t worry about it, just please don’t do this again..” He took one of the many blankets that consisted of his bed along with a pillow, he then folded the blanket over itself as a makeshift sleeping bag.  After placing it right next to his original bed he approached Cheryl again, adjusted the bed making sure she was comfortable.  “ Don’t worry about trying to walk back to your room tonight.”  Yawning he turned away from her ready to collapse but what stopped by when he felt a grip on his arm.  “ Thank you, for everything,” he couldn’t see her face properly but heard a sniffle or two.  Grabbing her hand he held it firmly, the other wiped her tears away.  She jumped at the feeling of his hand but didn’t push him away, his voice seemed to ring out in the dark,“ Don’t sweat it, try to get some sleep, ok?” 

Left alone, the tone of the camp changes.  When there is no one around the Fire has a tendency to dim itself to half its size, acting like an oversized night light.  This was one of the  times there seemed to be quiet, something that was deeply cherished by the survivors.  It reminded them of better times and most importantly; freedom.  Jake, on the other hand, couldn’t bring himself to sleep.  Normally he would take a walk before sleeping or… Wait, where was Claudette?  This question startled him in the night, he was sure that she was with their group who went out to the forest that night.  Or did she stay back with Quentin..?  Unsure of her last whereabouts he left his room to find her.  Unfortunately her room was deeper in the camp, isolated from the others.  Trees loomed overhead indicating his distance as he traveled further and further from the opening area where the Fire resided.  An eternity seemed to pass before he happened up a lone flower, relief washed over him as the sight of the first sign.  Following this lead the ground steadily gave way to another flower, then another until there were bunches of flowers populating his path.  Gently he ventured forward, the dim light and shadows made it a bit hard to find her place at times.  But her room was one of the most detailed rooms that was created, it wasn’t uncommon for people to come here seeking her out as an excuse.  Being unique, there were several different tree variants that shouldn’t be able to exist in the same space.  Birch trees and lush undergrowth accompany the flower path leading to her room entrance, but the trees change to cedar as one gets closer.  The main beauty though was the weeping willow that rested a bit to the right at the end path.  Its leaves hung very low providing thick coverage from peering eyes, around the willow the cedar trees encircled it tightly reinforcing its privacy.  The hum of cicadas was prominent in the area despite the fact that there were none.  He stood outside her willow tree,“ Claude? You still awake?,” no response.  Gently he ventured forward pushing back enough of the leaves to create a small opening.  Strings of light bulbs hung around the tree decently spaced out from each other to give the illusion that the tree was a source of light.  White specs floated about, a tall bookcase could be seen.  Several plants were scattered around and her bed was a circular hammock tied securely to the tree.  Light brown sheer curtains fell around the support ropes and the bed..  With one glance he could see that she was not in bed nor was she up in the willow tree reading in her usual spot.  He approached her bed as confusion gripped him, the bed swung effortlessly as he sat down.  Too exhausted from his hike to the room and not having any other leads, Jake decided to call it a night.  The swing of the bed soothed his worries beckoning him to rest his weary head, soon he found himself being put under.  The smell of fresh cedar was calming, hums of cicadas filled the pollen ridden air and before long Jake was fast asleep under the lights of the willow tree.

It was hard to breathe, cold like needles pricked her skin with every motion.  A strong force of water had her, it held fast as she drowned.  No matter how hard she tried she couldn’t reach the surface.  The water was clear at first but due to her thrashing it became tainted with murky dirt, everything was going dark.  The creeping panic was hard to keep down at this rate and Claudette felt her lungs being squeezed out of its excess air.  Her life flashed before her eyes; her mom, home and college were just a few bits of life that flickered past.   Then the uglier memories came.  NO. . I .. don't want to see.  But her mind played the memories on loop, torturing her further until all of her memories were no longer discernible from each other.   Mom.. I’..  Her mind went blank, the fear she felt before was in a distant place.  The cold water began to feel numb and her body was lighter, still she made no effort.  She went limp, yet the water continued to throw her body about.  Minutes passed before the current freed her from the whirlpool and carried her further along downstream.

The smell of cedar was overwhelming on campus, it was hard to miss considering it was natural for them to grow here.  Colors of brown and red painted the campus as people enjoyed the autumn weather.  Perched in a corner of the yard was a young woman with round glasses, nestled comfortably with a few good books and a lunchbox full of goodies.  Reading was a great comfort and an unfortunate pastime picked up in her younger school days.  God why was she thinking like this?  Claudette had a bad habit of narrating her life like she was in one of her favorite books or as if she was a main character.  “This scene is so cliche,” she muttered to herself watching the beauty of nature fall all around her, “ but sometimes that’s not a bad thing.”  Her heart jumped thinking about how romantic this spot would be with her crush, she really hoped he got her note.  Everything was in place, her favorite spot along with snacks and good reading material to discuss.  She had gathered up the courage to tell her classmate, Jay that she liked him.  He had dark brown skin and kinky hair that was shaven on the sides but still fell past his shoulders.  His whole vibe screamed chill and he loved books about as much as she did.  He was a breath of fresh air, the one good thing that seemed to be in her life.

Hours had passed before she saw his white sweatshirt from across the yard, he approached her with a lost expression.  “ ………………,”  static came from his mouth, he plopped down beside her and began to peruse her book collection. “..Wh-what?”  He looked up but his face was gone, replaced with a blank one, static sounded again but this time it did not stop.  It grew louder and louder as the guy stood over her, his face turning from kindness to hatred in the blink of an eye.  She curled up in the fetal position, hands clasped over her head as she tried hard to block out the sound.  His expression grew angrier as his vocal level rose, his eyes filled with so much emotion.  Claudette didn’t know what to do, what could she do?  Nothing seemed to make sense nor was she quite sure why her crush was so hostile towards her suddenly.  The world began to feel dark and she felt small, insignificant.  “..”  Before she could understand what was happening an immense pain knocked her a few yards away from the bench and onto the asphalt.  She couldn’t breath, her leg was on fire but it looked perfectly fine.  She howled and withered on the floor as he approached her, his face devoid of emotion or empathy.  The loud wails were no longer coming from him but they persisted all around them, the wails melded with the static as her vision and body shook.  Feeling hopeless she reached for her leg with both hands to try and soothe the pain.  The pain and the insufferable noise kept escalating until she tilted her head back to release a drawn out scream.   

With a jolt she opened her eyes only to immediately start spitting up water.  She was disoriented, her vision was blurred and to top it off her lower left side was numb.  Looking down her breath stopped as she saw the ripped flesh where her bone protruded from. “Urkk,.” a hand flew to her mouth but it was too late, she threw up on herself till her stomach was aching.  The ground was painted in fresh blood.  Her blood.  There was too much.  Nausea took over as she struggled to rip her shirt, failing several times she finally decided to take it off completely.  Feeling began to return to her body only to be met with a slow burning sensation in her leg.  Shakily, She was positioned herself upright trying to steel herself for what comes next.  Stay calm, just..think.  She shifted restlessly in the sand before choking back a sound as her leg started to crank up the heat coupled with enormous waves of pain.  Ok Detta, you need to reset the bone.  The idea itself was enough to make her squirm, she couldn’t even begin to imagine doing it to herself.  “ Found you~,”  Claudette flinched hard, the bad leg hit her good one.  She screeched, her body trembled and lurched as it was tempted to blackout from the pain.  No.. NO NOT THIS. I..  A pair of familiar misty eyes peeked out from the darkness across the river, this time though they were accompanied by an eerie smile that illuminated the darkness.  A body steadily came into view revealing The Doctor, electricity danced across his forearms and trickled down to his feet before disappearing to the earth.  Please!  Everything in her mind went blank, her pain and her caution regarding her leg went out of the window.  Survival instincts took over as she threw her shirt aside and desperately clawed at the ground fighting to gain distance.  “ Oh I wouldn’t do that,” he waded through the river with ease, making his way over.  “ You are only making it worse.”  Her hair was frizzed out all over her face, dirt and sand covered her wounds and body.  Like a corned animal she kept fighting to get away from him.  No progress was made and before she knew it he was squatting over her bare back.  “ Tsk Tsk..,” He reached a hand out and grabbed her outstretched arm to prevent any future escape.  He quickly looked her over, “A fracture..,” a hand hovered over her exposed bone.  Giggles arose from his clenched smile, his eyes danced with glee, “ Well we can’t have that,” with the same hand clasped around her arm he lifted her off the ground.  With no regard for how twisted he was making her body, he brought his other hand around her neck. His face came right beside hers only to pause, savoring the terror that was plastered on her face.  Breaking the silence finally he spoke in a whisper,“ It would be a shame to lose your life, since you are now my new pet~.”  Her eyes widened and she tried to scream in protest only to be shut up by his massive hand.  Without a care in the world he slung her over his shoulder and smirked upon hearing her outcry of pain.

[ethelindawrites]

October 4

Fictober, Prompt 4 - “I know you didn’t ask for this.”, Original Fiction

Warnings: horror/body horror, parasite, parasite removal, blood.

I sat in the little stand of woods, huddled beneath the biggest tree, knees drawn up to my chin, arms wrapped around my legs, fingers digging into my arms hard. Too hard. I was almost certainly going to bruise myself.

Since the alternative was to start clawing my own skin off, I thought bruises were probably a better option.

I couldn’t feel it. You never could. That was the awful part.

If it hadn’t been for Lydia, I wouldn’t even have known one had attached itself to me, would still be walking around in hideous ignorance.

And they would probably already have come for me.

Rustling from the field next to this stand of trees, and I looked up quickly, watching with wary eyes until the corn and then undergrowth parted to reveal that it was just Lydia, back with (hopefully) everything she would need to get it off me.

If it wasn’t already too deep.

I shuddered even as she came over and quietly dropped the backpack she carried into the leaf litter and crouched down in front of me.

“How are you doing?”

I made myself relax one hand from its death grip on my arm and waggled my fingers in a so-so motion, not wanting to move enough to shrug.

“Well, best not wait any longer,” she said, accepting that with a nod. “Can you get your shirt off yourself?”

Taking a deep breath, I nodded tightly and forced myself to move. It felt uncomfortable, being so undressed out here in the open; it wasn’t something I’d ever done before, but the thing was on my back and I wanted this to be as easy as possible for Lydia.

“Are you sure?” I forced myself to whisper. “I know you didn’t ask for this.”

Lydia regarded me steadily for a long moment, then said, “No, I didn’t. But you asked for help, and I accepted, and I meant it. I’m not going to let them take anyone else…and least of all you.”

Oh. There was an intensity in her eyes that I hadn’t recognized before, and it made me flush. We had known each other for a long time, but not well, not until recently. But now…

Lydia didn’t seem inclined to make anything further of it just now, pulling on a headlamp with business-like motions and digging through the backpack for whatever else she needed.

Okay, I thought. Something else to deal with later. If we got a later.

Please, let us get a later.

I turned around, sitting up as straight as I could, ignoring the chill night air on my bare skin, the faint, phantom itch that always started between my shoulder blades when I didn’t have anything covering my back. I fancied that I could feel where it was, even though I couldn’t.

“Ready?” Lydia’s voice was still low, still steady, and I nodded, because I had to be.

“Alcohol first,” she said in warning, and I took in a breath, letting it out shaky and slow as the cool liquid hit the back of my neck and started to trickle down—

I nearly screamed in agony when the rubbing alcohol reached the spot where the thing had attached itself, lower and to the left of where I had thought it was. Lydia had deliberately refused to tell me where when she had first identified it, knowing I would be unable to keep from trying to claw it off if I knew exactly where it was.

It writhed, and I could feel it, could feel where it was partially burrowed into my skin. I retched, then took in a deep gulp of cold air, trying desperately not to be sick.

“This will hurt,” Lydia warned next and my hands, clenched around my knees this time, tightened even as I took another deep breath and gave her a nod to continue.

Sharp pain, and more of that writhing sensation as the thing struggled against whatever Lydia was doing to try and pry it loose. I deliberately hadn’t looked at what sorts of tools she’d brought. It was bad enough being able to feel it, any visualization and I was sure to lose my battle with my churning stomach.

It fought, and that hurt more and more as the moments passed. I was certain there was a knife involved but didn’t dare turn my head to look. Bile rose in my throat, and I swallowed it back painfully, still working to keep my breaths deep and slow whenever I could manage, teetering on the edge of giving in to the nausea…

The thing came loose with an awful little sucking noise, but there was an immediate relief the instant it was out, in spite of the blood I could still feel trickling down my back.

“Hold on,” Lydia said, voice tight. Something that sounded like a jar being opened and closed, and then her hands were on my skin, soothing, wiping the blood away. “I’ll have to check and make sure I got it all.”

“Okay,” I whispered, bracing myself for the pain that followed. It wasn’t as bad now, somehow, and my stomach felt less as though it were going to revolt at any moment.

Lydia let out a sigh of relief, and she went on to finish cleaning and bandage it with quick, careful motions. “It’s out.”

“Thank you,” I said, voice still barely a whisper, tears welling in my eyes at the force of my relief. It was out, it was gone, and I was going to be okay.

“Of course,” she replied. A last smoothing of what felt like gauze and tape, and then she patted my back lightly. “Go ahead and pull your clothes back on.”

I did: bra, shirt, sweatshirt. Being covered again and warm helped more. My back still stung, but it was a healing kind of hurt, and I could live with that.

“Want a pain killer?” she asked when I turned around, holding out a water bottle and pills to me.

“I guess that would be a good idea,” I agreed, accepting both. I ended up finishing the water in a few gulps, thirstier than I had realized.

Then, against my better judgement, I asked, “What did it look like?”

Wordlessly, she held out an empty peanut butter jar, which I reluctantly took.

It wasn’t much bigger than a tick, and vaguely of the same shape and design. At first glance, you wouldn’t really have known there was anything different about it, wouldn’t have assumed that it was anything worse.

My stomach turned over again. A normal tick would have been bad enough, but this?

From what we had been able to learn, these things didn’t stop at drinking your blood. They just kept burrowing in, until they were inside you and could move around, making for vital organs and even (or eventually) your brain.

There was no coming back from that, as far as anyone knew.

Our only hope was that they burrowed slowly, so if you caught it early enough, there was a chance to get it out.

I handed the jar back to her quickly, and Lydia gave me a wry smile even as she pulled out a roll of duct tape and began to seal the jar up more thoroughly.

“Why not just kill it?” I asked, wishing desperately that we could light the thing on fire.

“We need to know more about them,” she pointed out. “For now, it’s more useful alive.”

I shuddered again, but she was right.

Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked.

Both our heads snapped up. Someone was hunting down people who had been bitten by these things, and was making them vanish. We weren’t sure exactly who they were, or exactly what their intentions were, but so far helping against the parasites didn’t seem to be a goal of theirs. We did know that they had co-opted the Sheriff and his deputies into helping.

Lydia hurriedly shoved everything into the backpack, and I picked up mine that I’d been carrying since earlier. It didn’t have much useful in it, but I had a little money, so if we could get far enough away we could buy anything else we needed, and hopefully lay low.

She rose, and our eyes met. Mine were wide with fear and uncertainty. Hers glinted in the moonlight, bright with determination and confidence.

“Ready?” she asked again, and held out a hand.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and let the fear fall away.

Opening them again, I stepped forward and accepted her hand.

“I’m ready.”

We ran.

[gold-from-straw]

Backstage of the Universe - ch11

Charles and Erik land in Wendimoor, and find Wakti...

Read on Ao3 form the beginning if you prefer!

Erik curled over as he fell, bracing his arms around his ears as the trees rushed up to meet them. Panic roared in his ears as branches smashed around him and tore at his skin until he hit the ground with a grunt.

“Charles!” he shouted, shoving himself to his feet.

“Here,” Charles groaned, rolling onto his back and wincing. Erik dropped next to him and started running his hands up Charles’ legs, checking for breaks. “Stop fussing, Erik,” Charles sighed.

Erik rolled his eyes. “Shut up, Charles, we both need to know if you’re injured.”

Charles shrugged in agreement, pushing himself up to sit against the tree trunk that had so thoughtfully broken his fall. “Ugh. I think my legs are fine. My ribs took the brunt of the action.”

Erik quirked a half-smile at him and went back to checking his legs. Suddenly Charles tensed, putting his fingers to his temple. “Someone’s coming.”

“Can you make us disappear?”

He frowned. “They might be able to take us to this… personification of the universe.”

“Or the magical talking snail?” Erik snarked. “Just look, Charles - surely you can tell if they know either of these people.”

Charles frowned at him, and a frisson of hurt ran through their connection before it cut off suddenly. “You do realise that I don’t just go diving into everyone’s minds like that.”

Erik looked at him flatly. Charles rolled his eyes and put his fingers back to his temple. His eyes widened. “They, uh… yes, they know her.” He glanced back at Erik. “I’m not sure I’d describe her as a snail, though. Not from what I saw.”

Erik raised his eyebrows, but focused on finding Charles’ wheelchair and straightening out all the dents. He lowered it next to Charles. “Would you mind if I lift you in?”

Charles rubbed his ribs with a wince. “Yes, I think that would probably be sensible.” He looped an arm around Erik’s shoulders as he helped him up, then took a deep breath. “Here they come.”

Erik turned, one hand on Charles’ chair. He could feel the metal approaching, large chunks of it in curious shapes, but even that couldn’t prepare him for the weapons the two women carried, or their strange clothes. One, a slight girl with short, pink hair and a cowboy hat, wore a giant pair of scissors as a sword, and the other, a tall black girl with long dreadlocks, had an enormous, cartoonish claw-hammer slung over her shoulder.

“Who goes there?” demanded the hammer-girl, stepping in front of the smaller one.

Charles raised his hands. Erik reluctantly followed suit. “We mean no harm,” Charles said, in that calm diplomat’s voice of his. “We’re looking for Wakti Wapnasi?”

The small girl’s eyes widened and she put her hand on her companion’s shoulder. “How do you know that name?” she demanded. Erik wondered if she was even eighteen yet.

Charles glanced up at Erik. I don’t know why you think I’ll be any help here, Erik muttered in his mind.

Charles gave him the mental impression of a flat look, then turned back to the girls. “It’s rather a strange situation… it might be faster if I showed you?”

“What do you mean?” the smaller girl asked, taking a step forward.

“Stay back, my lady,” said hammer-girl. “It may be one of the Mage’s traps.”

“I won’t hurt you,” Charles said. “I can send you all the information straight into your mind. You can see what I’ve seen.”

The girls glanced at each other, then warily back at Charles. When they made no move to refuse, he closed his eyes. Erik heard, in his own mind, the rustle of memories Charles sent to them; the children, their powers, Priest’s attack, and Francis, lying still with an entire world in his mind. He saw the girls gasp and stumble backwards, clutching at each other.

Show off, Erik teased.

“How can this be?” said the smaller girl.

“They must be in league with the Mage!” Hammer-girl pointed her weapon at Charles. With a gesture, Erik pulled it out of her hands, melting it into a pool at their feet.

Now who’s the show off? Charles said, but he wheeled forward. “I assure you, we don’t know any mage. We certainly aren’t working with one. We just want to find Wakti Wapnasi - I know you know her name.”

“How can you--”

“Because I heard her name in your mind,” he said, tapping the side of his head.

“We just want to bring the children home,” Erik said. “She’s our only hope right now, and we don’t even know if she can help us.”

The two girls looked at each other again, a silent conversation happening between them just as surely as it would between Charles and Erik. At last the taller girl stepped back, and the small one walked forward warily. “I am Litzibitz Trost, Princess of the Valley of Inglenook, and this is Bigby Badoo, my loyal lady-in-waiting. My brother, the Lord Prince Panto, has been working with Wakti Wapnasi for many years in secret. They seek to find a way to reveal the Prophecy of Prophecies, that which will restore the Empty Throne and return The Boy to us.” She looked between them both, her large eyes fierce with intensity. “I only tell you this because I cannot let a child remain in such danger - but this is of the utmost import, and must remain a secret - if you betray us, you will doom the whole of Wendimoor.”

“Wendimoor?” Erik asked in an aside to Charles.

“This world of theirs,” Charles murmured, but wheeled himself closer and clasped Litzibitz’s hand in both of his. “I swear to you, we’ll keep your secret. We have no wish to disturb your brother or Wakti’s work, and if we can help in any way, we will. Will you take us to her?”

Litzibitz looked up at Bigby once more. Her lady inclined her head just a little, and Litzibitz turned back with a wide, sweet smile. “Follow us.”

The way through the forest was slow going at first, with Charles’ chair hardly designed to pick its way through the undergrowth. Erik kept quiet and walked beside him as he swore under his breath, muscles straining as he forced it over roots that ground out on his footplates. As it tipped sideways, nearly dumping him on the ground, he swore viciously and thumped a nearby tree. Erik bit his lip and looked away, shielding his guilt and frustration behind a steel plate in his mind.

Litzibitz and Bigby turned back, heads tilted on one side. “Yes, I know, I’m slowing you down,” Charles hissed, more acid than Erik had heard him in a long time. “It’s not entirely by choice.”

“Does your chair not have feet to extend for rough terrain?” Bigby asked, poking at the wheels. “They should retract just here - hmm, why are they missing?”

Charles glanced up at Erik, then back at Bigby. “You have wheelchairs with feet here?”

Litzibitz nodded. “The Bofuki Nepoo are great inventors, and it is not just chairs with footed wheels, but cycles and infant carriages as well. Anything that may need to wheel on flat ground, and climb on rough.”

Charles bit his lip. “I’ll have to talk to Hank about something like that.”

“Or you can talk to me,” said Erik mildly. “Bigby, would you mind showing Charles an image of these extendable feet in your mind? Then Charles can pass it on to me, and I’ll make some modifications.”

Charles looked up at him with that old, wondering expression that always used to make Erik turn away from him, unable to look straight into the sun. He looked away now, too, holding down, but savouring, that leap in his heart.

“Thank you,” Charles said softly, a gentle smile warming Erik from the inside out as he added the strange, pointed extensions around Charles’ axles, drawing some metal out of the handles and arm rests.

Erik patted the push rim and stood, clearing his throat. “Let’s get going then.”

Charles moved forward, the spikes digging into the roots and soil as he pushed, and his smile turned to one of triumph as he made his way over the rough ground. “Perfect,” he grinned.

It still wasn’t easy, and by the time they made it through the woods into the little village, Charles was breathing hard. So was Erik, though. “I’ve grown lazy in your comfortable little school, Charles,” he muttered.

“You and me both, my friend.”

Charles’ wheel spikes retracted on the flat ground, they followed Litzibitz and Bigby to a large, low-roofed hut in the centre of the village as small, fur-clad people with multicoloured, streaked skin appeared to peer at them, heads turning this way and that strangely.

“So, you are the ones who disturb my prophecy,” said a low, gravelly voice, and Erik stopped dead in the path.

Erik, don’t be rude, said Charles’ voice in his head.

How in anyone’s mind is that a snail? Erik demanded, and he wasn’t too proud to admit that there was just the slightest bit of hysteria creeping into his voice. Because that was not a person, and it sure as hell wasn’t a snail. She was almost entirely covered in thick purple cloth, a huge, misshapen tricorn hat on her head, but her face was plated with strange, wood-like bones.

He swallowed hard, resisted the urge to shake his head and wonder at his life’s choices, and followed the man he would follow to the end of the world.

“Wakti Wapnasi?” Charles asked, holding out a hand.

The definitely-not-a-snail took his hand in her… appendages. She didn’t seem to have hands, more like flexible pincers with fingers. “That’s me,” she said, something gleefully cheerful under the gravel of her voice. “And you are the one who stole The Boy,” she said, turning her gaze on Erik.

“I’m… what?”

“The Boy who will save us all. The Boy of prophecy. A prophecy, I might add, that I almost had pinned down, before you came along and started to make things interesting.”

“I’m… terribly sorry,” said Charles, glancing at Erik.

Wakti laughed merrily. Erik wasn’t sure if he liked the noise at all. “Do not be sorry. I am eager to see how things change. Now, you want to talk to the Universe?”

“We want to get the children back,” Erik said. “And if that means talking to the Universe itself, then yes. Please.”

“Well, then,” Wakti said, and the bones or wooden structures on her face bent as she smiled. “You had best come in.”

Tagging anyone who interacted with the last chapter ^_^ @googiebeankat, @akasanata, @threecheer, @slytherclaw134689

[non-newtonianbeans]

The Forest - oneshot

11 x OC 

In which 11 & Lillian (OC) are stranded in a sinister forest...

“Doctor?” I peeked my head out of the TARDIS and looked around, “This isn’t London.”

Massive trees rose grandly around us, the air was tinged green by their leafs. There was no distinct path in or out of the place we landed. Everything was tangled together, blades of grass morphed into vines that ran up the rough tree trunks. This forest was so very alive, it had a heart beat, a throbbing rhythm one could feel constantly in their chest.

The Doctor came out of the TARDIS, wearing a frown.

“You’re right. This isn’t London.”

I rolled my eyes and ventured forward into the thicket. Something was calling out to me, tugging at my heart and beckoning me forward. What lay beyond this cluster of trees? What strange creatures lurked in this forest, waiting to be found? There was no noise, only feeling. I could not hear birds, or insects, or animals. All I knew was the throbbing rhythm in my chest.

A violent shimmer of light burst down from above us, dancing over my head, and shooting directly into The Doctor’s chest. The force of this blast knocked him back, and he staggered a bit, clenching his chest. A blossom of worry sprung up in my chest, not knowing what had just happened to him.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a wallet, a curious frown gracing his face.

“What was that?” I asked, “what just happened?”

The Doctor was staring at the wallet that now lay open in his palm. But my comments drew him out of his trance and he looked up at me, smiling quickly, and snapping the wallet shut, “Psychic paper,” he explained, “takes a lovely little message”

I stared at the expression on his face, it was almost unreadable. Almost. He was worried. Maybe even scared. I frowned, the doctor never gets scared. There was something wrong here. And the throbbing. It wouldn’t shut up. Reaching out, testing. Waiting.

“Lillian?”

“Lillian.”

I blinked, The Doctor was standing in front of me, staring intently into my eyes. The haze around me cleared, and I met his gaze. I hazarded a smile. “Wanna explore the forest?”

He paused, “I think we should go back to the-” He turned around, and stopped completely.

Where the TARDIS had once been was now more of the forest. Green vines clashing dangerously with the trees, creating a pattern that could not be deciphered by the human eye. It looked like power.

“My TARDIS…” It was a whisper, broken. He looked at me, floppy hair and dewey eyes, lips puckered in confusion and hurt.

I looked at the doctor anxiously, “where did it go?”

The Doctor took out his screwdriver and scanned, the faint hum was softened by the blanket of nature around us. The tip lit up, growing, sharing information. The Doctor’s face fell as he deciphered the screwdriver’s readings. “It’s right here…” He muttered, turning in a circle, observing everything around him. He walked to where the TARDIS had been and froze, his hand in mid-air like it usually was when he was processing a particularly complex thought.

“Oh no…” realization dawned on him. “Oh no no no no no” Panic edged his voice, he pressed into his head with the heel of his hand frustratedly.

“Doctor?” I hesitated, stepping forward slightly, almost reaching out, but drawing back at the last minute, “where did it go?” I repeated.

“It never left.” He groaned, “it’s right here. They’ve stripped her and taken everything from her except the very core of her existence. This.. right here… etched in vine.. these are the most powerful designs in the universe, These are the designs of the TARDIS core.”

I blinked, “but how are we going to leave?”

His shoulders tensed, but his face remained bright. He adjusted his bow-tie slightly and stretched out his arms a bit in that weird shimmy he does whenever he gets excited. That damn shimmy that I love.

A scared sort of grin flitted across his face, “fancy a hike in the woods?”

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

We had been walking for a while, enough to make my feet sore. At least- they should be sore. I felt like they should be sore, they should be hurting, crying out for me to sit down. But something was stopping me from feeling the pain. There was a caring presence in the back of my mind, keeping me safe. Keeping this whole planet safe.

And that dull, aching, lonely rhythm, constantly there.

I blinked, snapping out of it, and looking at The Doctor, who was crouched down a few steps ahead of me examining some moss that was growing on the trees.

“Interesting…” He was muttering to himself.

I smirked and slowly came up behind him, “what is?”

He barely even looked up, “the moss.”

I hummed and glanced around absentmindedly, “What’s so interesting about it?”

“A few things..” He jumped up, “when was the last time you’d say it rained?” There was a glint in his eyes- he was onto something.

I frowned, “Like, here?” I asked, gesturing to the strange world around us.

He didn’t respond, darting to a tree, and, much to my distaste, licking it.

I made a face as I watched him, wondering what the hell he was possibly hoping to accomplish.

“Taste good?” I smirked, crossing my arms as I watched him run back over to me. Once again, he didn’t acknowledge that I had even uttered a word.

“That wood is dry.” His eyes were wide, “it’s been dry for about…” The Doctor stuck his tongue out, pinching it between his fingers, “A thentury, baybe eveb bore.”

I blinked, “Pardon?”

The Doctor rolled his eyes and released his tongue, “It hasn’t rained here in at least a thousand years,” he explained, eyes wandering around the forest, “so the question is…”

He trailed off, waiting for me to connect the dots. And, suddenly, I did.

It was all in the moss, and the green-ness of the trees. Practically the entire forest was exuding green. But if it hadn’t rained in a century then…

“How is everything so green?” I finished his sentence, gaping at The Doctor. My head was spinning with millions of possibilities, there was practically steam coming out of my ears.

A pang of sadness shot through me, it was urgent, it was desperate. I frowned and shook it off. I wasn’t sad, why would I be sad?

I turned back into The Doctor, who was pacing with his screwdriver in his right hand, fiddling with it, he was muttering something about energy.

“Doctor.” I called out, he paused without looking up, “we should keep moving forward, maybe we’ll find something.”

His head perked up and he strode over to me, taking me into a lopsided hug. “That’s what I love about you,” he murmered, “you keep me moving forward.”

I tried to keep the sudden butterflies at bay as we continued to walk through the forest. But I couldn’t stop repeating the word he had said so softly, it echoed through my head.

“love”

-----

We continued walking through the forest, The Doctor would pause here and there to examine some moss, or to lick a tree, but he’d always bounce back over to me like an energetic puppy.

The thing about the forest was, there was no light. Obviously there was light because we were able to see everything around us perfectly. But as we ventured further and further into the forest, the light did not change. It stayed the same dreamy haze of sun speckled green floating around us. The forest never got dark. I didn’t notice it at first, but as we trudged through the jungle of trees and vines, I found myself falling deeper into the rhythm of the forest, and caring less about .the sun- or whatever source of light was on this planet.

It wasn’t until The Doctor stopped to glance at the sky (which was mostly blocked by the canopy of trees) and asked, “what time is it?” That I realized we had been here far too long.

I followed his gaze to the sky and frowned, “It must be late,” I said, “we’ve been walking for ages.”

He ran a hand through his brown hair slowly, eyes wide with realization, “so then where’s the sun?”

I stared at him blankly, not understanding what he meant, the pounding in my head had increased, and it was hard to focus.

The Doctor’s face creased with worry, he took a step towards me, hand outstretched, “Lillian?”

I blinked, looking at him, and remembering quickly where I was. I forced a quick smile on my face. “Sorry, you were saying?”

He looked at me quizzically, trying to read me. This went on for about a minute, a small blush creeping up my neck at the intense eye contact. It took a fair amount of will-power to not stare at his lips. I straightened slightly at that thought and mentally slapped myself. What was getting into me lately! Finally, he just shrugged and turned around, continuing through the thicket, with me following his lead, wondering what was happening to me.

We walked in silence for a while, every step muffled by the undergrowth, every thought exhausted before it could be spoken. I was trying not to focus on the sinister rhythm that now seemed to emanate from every part of my body, consuming me.

I was looking down at my feet, making sure I was avoiding the tangled vines that ran rampant through the forest, when The Doctor stopped walking. I didn’t notice that at first, it was only when I ran into him that I did. I groaned as I stumbled backwards.

“Doctor-”

“Look.” He grabbed my arm and brought me forward, pointing at a tree.

I frowned and glanced at him, unsure of what I was supposed to be seeing. “Doctor I don’t-”

He cut me off impatiently, “look.” He insisted, moving closer to the tree, “look at the vines- the pattern- it’s-”

I covered my mouth in horror as I recognized the patterns that the vines formed. They were chaotic, rudimentary even. Well- less recognize- more.. felt. Sadness. “It’s... horrific.”

The Doctor frowned and looked at me, he opened his mouth but chose not to say what was on his mind. He cleared his throat slightly and shoved his hand in his pockets, “It’s.. in the shape of an energy core. Looks like it’s from a starship airliner.”

The sight of the vines sparked something in my head, the same thing had happened to the TARDIS. I bit my lip and turned to The Doctor, “Doctor?” He hummed in response, studying the vines intensely, I cleared my throat and tried again, “Doctor this is what happened to the TARDIS too… right?”

He squinted and stepped back from the intricate design, “I’m not sure,” though worry was lacing his words, “there’s something I’m missing.”

I looked back at the vines, they were starting to brown. The death was creeping down the vines and melding into the grass- the grass was dying too. What was once green was now a dull color, void of any life that had once been there. There was no need for me to point this out to the doctor, he had already seen it, and was crouching down with his screwdriver- scanning it. “The core is dying.” The Doctor announced, standing up and pocketing his screwdriver. “It has barely any energy left in it.”

I blanched at the thought of this happening to the TARDIS. There was a small part of me that was doubtful we were ever going to leave this planet, but I shook my head and suppressed those thoughts. There were more urgent things to worry about.

It was hard to turn away from the dying plant, I could feel how weak it was. But I resolved myself to the fate of this vine, and looked away, grabbing The Doctor’s hand.

“Come on,” I said, gently squeezing his hand, “we should keep going.”

He nodded slightly, looking at the core, “Hold on-” He approached it again, “maybe if I reversed the charges in the vine..” He whipped out his screwdriver once more and jammed it into the vine.

Suddenly a wave of overwhelming pain slammed into my stomach. I cried out in pain, letting go of The Doctor’s hand, clutching at the pain. The Doctor was saying something to me, but I couldn’t process what he was saying. The rhythm was pounding in my head, and my stomach, all that I could hear was that rhythm. It wasn’t comforting anymore, it was more.. sinister. It wasn’t taking away my pain anymore, it was intensifying it. Turning it up to one thousand. It felt like every molecule in my body was splitting, changing. And the rhythm.. it was taking over every thought I had. All that I could think- all that I could hear and feel was the rhythm. That steady two timed beat, the desperation of it, the sadness, there was so much pain emulating from it. It was overwhelming. It hurt. All of my body- the very essence of my being- was screaming in pain. My legs gave out from under me and I fell to the ground- but I couldn’t find the energy to care. All I could do was lay there, clutching my head as it felt like it was being split open and torn apart.

The Doctor was there, crouching beside me, I couldn’t see him, I was blinded by pain, but I could feel him. His presence was calming, slowly easing my pain.

“Lillian snap out of it”

At the sound of his voice helped calm the pain slightly. I was still weak and trembling. There were tears streaming down my face at the horror of what I had just felt, the pure emotional pain that overtook me.

“Lillian can you hear me?” He pressed a gentle hand to my forehead, I could feel his worry. The Doctor slowly pressed two fingers to my temples, I could feel the slight pressure from his cool fingers, and suddenly, my thoughts cleared- along with my pain.

I slowly opened my eyes and looked up at The Doctor. Worry clouded his eyes, and his shoulders were tense. Our proximity sent small shivers down my spine, I could feel every breath he took, and he could feel mine. I closed my eyes as I tried to process everything that had just happened to me.

“Lily.. I-”

I leaned against The Doctor’s shoulder, cutting him off. I took a deep breath, smelling the strange earthy tones of the deodorant he was wearing. I recognized it immediately as the deodorant I had gifted him from our visit to the Sultan Planes of planet Cryria 093. I smiled into his tweed jacket as I realized he was actually using my gift.

The Doctor took a breath, preparing to say something. I winced, “please don’t.” pressing my face further into his jacket, feeling the scraggly tweed scratching my cheek, I sighed, “please just don’t say anything. Not right now.”

He nodded slightly, pressing his face into the top of my head. We stayed like that for what felt like both an infinity and a second. Eventually I stood up, and grabbed his hand. Because no matter what, we had to keep going, we had to find the TARDIS. The Doctor gripped my hand and we set off like that, together, each supporting the other. I stopped noticing the nature when we walked. Everything started to blend together. Besides, I was busy pondering the strange surges of emotions I had been having. And that damn rhythm. This had never happened to me before, it was almost like I could feel what these trees were feeling, but that was ridiculous. It’s just that there was so much of it. So much crying and pain and fear. It was horrible and uniquely lonesome.

---------

I didn’t notice it at first, but as we walked through the forest, the grass started getting more and more brittle. It lost its color slowly, and then all at once. And suddenly we found ourselves surrounded by mounds of dead grass and vines, jumbled together in the same nonsensical order that the other cores had been in. There was a smell of death that floated through the air and left a pit in my stomach. And the sadness. It was almost too much, I was already so vulnerable after the pain I had felt only a few hours ago. This sadness ate at every piece of happiness inside of me. Everything was so absolutely irrevocably dead. I looked over at The Doctor- his demeanor had changed so suddenly. He was gripping my hand harshly, as if his life depended on it. I was scared to ask, but I had to know, because I knew that he understood what was happening- he just wasn’t letting on.

“Doctor.. What is this place?”

He sighed and closed his eyes. “It’s a core graveyard.”

I frowned, “a what?”

The Doctor released my hand and rubbed his face tiredly, “at one point,” he explained, “these were all live energy cores, just like the vines we ran into. But they died. All the energy- all the… the…” He looked at me sadly, searching for the right words, “life was sucked out of them.” The Doctor shook his head sadly and moved towards a dead vine that looked particularly complex, “they were killed.”

“Killed?” A pang of fear ran through my heart, “by who?”

“Not by who,” The Doctor whipped his head around angrily, “by what.”

I took a step back, shocked by how quickly he turned to anger. All I could feel was the damp sadness that weighed over my soul.

“Oh, this is clever, very clever,” He continued, a rueful smile spread across his face that didn’t quite meet the eyes, “almost didn’t figure it out but- then again- it is very hard to fool me.”

“Congratulations!” The Doctor yelled up into the sky, “Lily,” he softened as he turned his attention to me, “we never should have come here,” his voice was grave, eyes wide with sincerity, “and I am so.. so … sorry for what is about to happen.”

I blinked in confusion, watching as he paced around the graveyard, rubbing his forehead.

“At first I didn’t understand, I thought, what could just strip a TARDIS down to her core like that?” He scoffed, “but then you brought me here and it all made sense!” The Doctor had been shouting at the sky but he quickly turned his attention to me, “see- Lily- this planet is psychic. It’s one of the seven Sousoulos planets. They need energy to survive, except, they don’t have a core.” He explained rapidly, “so the planet uses psychic signals to lure in space ships. A big flashing neon message that tells travellers- whatever you most desire lies in this planet.” The Doctor’s face contorted into disgust, “well they can’t resist. And when the space ship lands…” He approached me, pure hatred gleaming in his eyes, “Lily can you guess what happens?”

I stood there, frozen, my mouth hanging open at his outburst.

“That’s fine, I’ll tell you,” The Doctor clenched his hands, “This planet strips the ship down to the core and feeds off of its energy. Eventually the core dies, and then the planet finds a new one.”

I frowned, still not quite grasping why he was so upset, “Doctor I don’t-”

“Lily,” He was quite close to me, “do you know what kind of energy a psychic planet feeds off of?”

“Er.. psychic energy?” I stammered, avoiding his burning gaze.

“Right-o!” He clapped his hands and jumped towards a dead core only a few feet away, “and do you know what the only kind of ship is in the known universe that uses psychic energy?”

Suddenly, it hit me, what he was getting at, why he was so angry, I covered my mouth in shock, “a… a TARDIS.” I murmured under my breath.

“Exactly. So the planet takes as many TARDIS cores as it can get. But when it runs out,” he turned to me, “and it does run out- because all the time lords are dead,” He looked so weary in that moment, “the planet starves, and takes what it can get. So it lures in passenger ships, cargo ships, anything it can get its hands on. And then it drains every last bit of energy that the ships have. Not to mention the feelings- the hopes and dreams- of that ships passengers.”

My eyes widened, he wasn’t just angry about the timelords, he was angry about the death of those innocent people on those ships.

“That’s why there is no sun. And that’s why the leafs are so green without rain.” The Doctor kicked a dead vine angrily, “Because the energy keeps everything alive.”

I frowned, “Is that why this graveyard is so sorrowful? Because of the dead psychic ships?”

The Doctor blinked and stared at me, “what did you just say?”

“I- I can feel it,” I met The Doctor’s gaze fearfully, “is that bad?”

“Lily…” He grabbed my hand “you have a psychic link with the planet.”

I frowned, not understanding what he meant.

“You can use the psychic link to reverse what the planet has done.” He looked earnestly into my eyes, “you can bring us home.”

My heart stopped, “I- I- what?” I stammered. The Doctor squeezed my hand reassuringly, but it didn’t help. How could I possibly have a psychic link to a planet?

He smiled softly, a hint of regret in his face, he pulled me close and placed his chin on my head, swaying us back and forth, “close your eyes.”

The rumbling in his chest calmed me a bit, and I did as he asked.

“Lil, you’re gonna have to focus. And..” he paused, sighing, “I’m sorry but this is going to hurt.”

I forced a smile, even though I knew he couldn’t see it, “I’ll be okay.” My words were muffled in his chest, but I forced myself to believe that he understood me.

The Doctor slowly pulled out of our embrace and placed his fingers on my temples, “keep your eyes closed.” He instructed, my smile faded, but I complied, “I need you to think about the TARDIS. Think about what it looks like.”

I focused intensely for a moment, picturing the majestic blue box, and the wonders that lay inside it. The orange console room that all of our adventures had started in, the library where we had danced- soaking wet- that one evening when the nightmares had gotten too bad, my bedroom with the book on intergalactic markets that The Doctor had gifted me. I thought about it all.

“Are you ready?”

I nodded slightly, bracing myself, and all of a sudden I felt it. The pull on my brain, I could feel the planet. It was inside of me, looking into my head, and judging me.

“Lily- think about the TARDIS- bring it here.” The Doctor instructed urgently.

I squeezed my eyes in concentration and pictured every memory that I had in the TARDIS, and how much I wanted it back. How much I needed it to come back to me. The planet was ripping through my memories, my emotions, bringing out everything I had tried to box away for eternity. Leo falling to his death. The perfect halo of blood around his body. My fathers drinking. I could feel how much the planet loved this chaos, it was feeding off of it, taking everything from me. I focused on the TARDIS, on how desperately I wanted it here, on how desperately I wanted The Doctor. I needed them both in my life, and I hadn’t really realized the extent of that need until now, until I was close to death for it.

Every aspect of my existence was being ripped apart, I cried out in pain as even more of my memories were ripped from my head. My knees buckled under the pressure, but The Doctor kept holding me up, holding me steady. I could feel his presence in the back of my mind.

Finally, I heard that familiar wheezing of the TARDIS. Wind rustled through my head as that beautiful blue box landed.

I opened my eyes, we were in the TARDIS, The Doctor was still cradling my head in his hands. I whimpered from the pain and stared at him desperately, “Please, Doctor…” I gasped as more pain shot through my head, “please s- save this planet..” The pain was overwhelming, the psychic link was too strong, it was burning me up, I could feel it turning my brain into mush.

The Doctor stared at me for a moment before nodding, “But first the planet has to destroy the link.”

I gasped for air as it felt like my lungs were slowly disintegrating, I tried to tell the planet, to send a message through the link. There was no hum of acknowledgement, there was no compelling rhythm, there was only the blinding pain that tore my head apart.

I was crying. I moved to wipe the tear from my cheek but jerked back as it smeared red onto my finger.

It was blood.

“Lily please you have to let go.” The Doctor was begging, “you’re dying.”

I shook my head as more pain ripped through my skull, “I.. I can’t let this planet die.” I couldn’t breath, I couldn’t see, I was barely able to speak, or stand.

“I’m sorry, Lily.” The Doctor’s voice sounded far away as he slowly removed his fingers from my head, “but I won’t let you die.” He pulled me close, “please, just let go.”

So I did.

And I let myself fall into the deepest depths of my mind.

[sanctuaryforascrivener]

what’s past is prologue

Word Count: ~4.6k  Read on ao3  First in the series Martin of Mossflower. Beta’d by @raphcrow

Summary: One choice remade, and the benefits and consequences of it that spiral outward. Or, what if Luke’s tribe had stayed to fight Verdauga, instead of fleeing North? How much would have changed? How much would have stayed the same?

Next Chapter

The thing about stories, you see…

Almost two score mice huddle together for warmth under the branches of Mossflower woods. Their home lies behind them, a violated wreck of its former comfort. Their leader stands watch at the edge of the camp, paws on the pommel stone of a sword, the tip resting lightly on a scree of autumn leaves. He is uncertain, and afraid, but shows his tribe nothing but confidence. His ears twitch back, listening to the murmurings of the elders, the fitful cries of the young ones, confused and cold.

Something must be done.

A shape looms out of the darkness suddenly, and the mouse brings his sword up, ready to parry or stab or slash. “Peace,” the shape says, voice gruff but gentle, as a badger steps closer.

“Bella,” the mouse says, and stands down to let her pass. Behind him, the mice relax and chatter to each other quietly, the whisper of voices barely louder than the wind through the leaves.

Bella looks down at him, compassion and grief writ in every line of her sturdy body. “I heard what happened—I’m so sorry about your father, Luke.”

The mouse nods once, tightly, a muscle in his jaw jumping as he grinds his teeth. “We’re not safe here,” he says. “Not with that cat and his vermin.” The mice behind him have gone quiet again, listening to every word that passes between Luke and their badger friend.

“My home is yours, Luke, as long as you wish for it to be,” Bella says softly, liquid brown eyes pitch black in the moonlight. “Brockhall was designed for badgers. We’ve easily the space for all of you.”

Luke looks over his tribe again, counting the families, the tiny ones. So many old, so many young, so many lost.

…is that they’re never really settled.

“Aye,” he says at last, and sheaths his sword, the hilt sticking up over his right shoulder. “Thankee, Bella, for your hospitality. Someday we’ll repay you.” He turns, placing both hands on his hips, and issues orders in a quiet, though stern voice. “Vurg, Denno, I want you two at the back concealin’ tracks. Can’t have those scum trackin’ us back to Bella’s home. Pair up, the rest o’ you, an’ carry what little ‘uns you can. I’m not losin’ any more. Sayna?”

A pretty young mousewife slips her paw into his, the other resting over her middle. “I’m here, Luke.” He squeezes her paw in relief.

All a story is is a beast making one choice—

Sayna stands in front of a shamefaced Luke, mousebabe tucked firmly under one arm like a sack of potatoes, her other paw gripping a sheathed sword by the hilt. Bella and Barkstripe exchange amused looks as the mousewife lectures her chief, emphasizing each phrase with the sword. The rest of the tribe keep their heads down, muffling laughter into their breakfast plates.

“And what, pray tell, have I told you about leaving this around?” Sayna demands.

“‘Twasn’t around,” Luke protests. “‘Twas next to me. I had my eye on it, love—”

“Don’t you ‘love’ me, Luke, Son of Martin.” Sayna swings the sword up to point directly at her husband. The babe under her arm watches it avidly. “And if you’d had an eye on it, I wouldn’t have found your son halfway out the dining hall doing his best to haul it with him!”

Luke looks impressed. “Well, he’s gettin’ stronger, isn’t he?” He ducks under the sword and rescues the babe, dancing back out of range again before Sayna can give him a rap with the sheathe. He swings him up onto sturdy shoulders, giving his wife a winning, roguish smile. “Martin’s a warrior born, and knows what he’s after, that’s all—yowch!”

Martin has seized on his father’s ears for balance, grip unexpectedly strong for a mousebabe only a few weeks old. The hall’s attempt at keeping a straight face fails miserably, and Sayna relents, a wry smile stealing over her whiskers as their friends and family laugh. She steps closer, brushing her nose to Luke’s and pressing the sword back into his paws. “You’re lucky you’re so cute,” she says, and scrunches her nose up at her babe, serious expression framed by his father’s ears. “Both of you.”

—and another—

The three badgers sit before the fire in the common room of Brockhall, sipping mulled cider from mugs the size of Luke’s head. “It’s not slavery,” Barkstripe says, voice slow and measured. “They’ve their own homes, they’re not locked away, they’ll keep the produce come harvest.” He looks at his wife, but Bella only shakes her head.

“Only after giving half of it to the fortress as levy. That cat’s a clever one,” she says, staring into the fire. “Call it protection, discredit resistance. Make it easier to go along. There’re already dozens of families in that compound, those afraid to risk the lives of their little ones by rebelling.”

“Aye,” their guest agrees. “Set curfews, overseers in the fields to guard against outside threats and make sure everybeast is working, leave off chains and locks so they can convince themselves it’s not slavery. Forbid creatures from wandering off the lands, or carrying weapons for protection, because what need do they have for it, with soldiers surrounding them?” She takes a long draught of cider. “It’s not slavery, no, but it’s not freedom either.”

Barkstripe sighs heavily. “Yes. But we’re not fighters, Rowanoak, only farmers. What can we do?”

Rowanoak shakes her head. “I don’t know, friend. I don’t know.”

—and another.

“Somethin’ must be done.”

It is usual, now, to hear the mouse chieftain in discussion with their host, late at night after the young ones have gone to sleep.

“Aye,” Barkstripe agrees, the response worn with repetition. “But we don’t have the skills to fight back.”

“We do,” Luke counters. Barkstripe glances at him. “We do,” he repeats, insistently. “I’ve been about. Those otters can spear a fish quick as a wink, an’ squirrel archers are nothin’ to sneeze at. Gather volunteers, anyone who wants—we can train up a fighting force.”

Barkstripe shakes his head, the flicker of hope dying in his eyes, unnoticed until it has vanished. “Luke, my friend, I respect your spirit. You know that. And you’re right, there are skilled beasts in Mossflower, but those skills haven’t been tested against an enemy before. The otters hunt for fish, the squirrels protect their dreys from rooks and other hunting birds. You’ll have a hard time convincing any of them that outright war against the cat’s horde is wise.”

Firelight glints red in Luke’s eyes. “‘Tisn’t. And outright war isn’t my plan. We’re outnumbered an' under-trained. But this winter’s colder than any I can remember, an' that cat’s sittin' in the fortress warm and snug.” He leans forward, tapping the table with one paw to emphasize his words. “We take the time fate’s given us, and we train now, practice now. Come spring, we strike an' retreat, strike an' retreat, sting Greeneyes like bees. You can’t fight bees with a sword. Eventually, we’ll whittle him down enough that he has to flee.”

The course of a story isn’t like a stream running through the woods.

Luke crouches low in the newly budded undergrowth, paw clenching around his smoke-blackened sword. He breathes shallowly, counting as the vermin patrol passes. A handful of squirrels wait above him, ready at his signal to strike, then flee through the treetops. The rearguard passes. Luke tenses, ready for his ambush.

“Sure now, I’d not do that, if’n I were you,” a low voice murmurs from his left.

Luke twists his head sharply to the side to see a mouse lying beside him, mimicking his own posture. She gives him a broad wink. “There’s another gang comin’ along behind ‘em. Afraid ol’ Greeneyes is gettin’ wise to your tactics, me friend.”

“Who the devil are you?” Luke hisses, more frustrated with himself that he’s failed to notice her than hostile. She clearly isn’t an enemy.

The mouse grins widely, and offers him a lazy paw to shake. “Siobhan, yer honor. Me ol’ man’s at Brockhall with the little ‘un.”

Luke accepts the paw, still looking at Siobhan with a measure of skepticism. “Aye?”

“Aye. Y’know a lot about the warrior stuff, Luke me friend, but ye could stand for a few lessons on sneakin’ about.” Though her eyes hold a twinkle, they’re also hard and unyielding. “That’s why I’m here. Queen o’ Mousethieves, Warrior. At yer service.”

It’s more like a ship at the mercy of the waves.

Luke’s thinking about Sayna and Martin again. Sayna, and how hard he had had to work to win Windred over to him, to convince her that he loved Sayna more than life itself and would treat her well, that he wasn’t just the rough-and-tumble warrior she saw. How Sayna had beamed at him on the day of their marriage. How she had looked by the fire in St. Ninian’s, cuddled up into his side with the red glow of the embers limning her fur in a halo. How happy she’d been when she’d come to him and told him she was pregnant, that they’d have a child together.

How big little Martin is getting, a season and a half old and following him everywhere around Brockhall like a little shadow. How serious the babe is, watching everyone with wide, grey eyes. Just like his mother’s. Always biting off more than he can chew, too, trying to haul soup pots to the kitchen that are bigger than he is, or carrying Windred’s mending for her, even though every step threatens to get him tangled in the shirt or smock she’s repairing. Sayna always says that’s his fault, his obstinacy, and then she turns around and does the same thing, organizing an expedition to gather medicinal herbs and not taking “no” for an answer.

His little family.

Luke’s thinking about Sayna and Martin again, as he whirls his father’s blade over his head and slices through a stoat. As he leaps forward across the parade ground of Kotir, crossing his blade with the shaft of a weasel’s spear, slicing through the oak to gut the creature behind it. As he stands, parrying another seeking spear point, as he lashes out, as he ducks and slices at unprotected footpaws, as he cleaves through a shield.

As the arrows thud into his body. As he fights on. As he reaches the doors of the fortress. As he leans against them, trying to catch his breath. Trying to ignore the pain. Trying to hear Siobhan beside him, yelling insults at the vermin surrounding them.

As he reaches the gates of Dark Forest, Luke’s thinking about Sayna and Martin.

One twitch of the tiller—

Sayna stands outside Brockhall, leaning against the solid oak and watching the rising sun. Her eyes are red rimmed with exhaustion, and the tree is the only thing holding her up, but she won’t move until she knows for sure. One way or another. Martin dozes at her feet. He’s escaped from Windred three times now, always coming straight back to her. The last time, her mother had just left them a blanket and gone back to bed, muttering something about how letting two such stubborn mice have a child was Fate’s mistake. Sayna sinks to her knees and strokes his head, tucking the blanket more firmly about his tiny frame.

When the squirrel messenger drops out of the trees in front of her, Sayna already knows what he will say. Later, she thinks she knew before Luke had marched to Kotir, or perhaps even before she married him. Luke was always going to die fighting, sword in paw. There was no other fate for him.

The day Sayna walks through the gates to the compound with Windred by her side and Martin bundled on her back, she stares up at Kotir and makes a promise to herself. Her weapons are not steel and oak, but she’ll keep fighting, too. She will forge hope and hone it to a point, and use it to strike at the heart of Kotir. Whether it’s in four seasons or a score, she will live to see the fortress fall.

—one push off course—

“Why aren’ you out in the fields wit’ the others?” The weasel confronts a young mouse in the middle of the empty street. He’s missing two teeth.

Martin would dearly love to up the count to three, but he curls his paws into fists and restrains himself. “I’m taking care of my grandmother.”

“Why isn’ she out in the fields wit’ the others?” It’s a ferret this time, another of the squad on patrol through the compound.

“She’s ill,” Martin says. “I’m getting her some water.”

“I’m gettin’ her some water…?” The weasel repeats, using the butt of his spear to tap at Martin’s footpaws. The ferret behind him snickers.

He knows what they’re after, and he would rather swallow his tongue than give it to them. But his grandmother is sick at home, and they need more water. “I’m getting her some water, sir,” he says, taking a step back out of range.

“No you’re not,” the weasel says with a grin. “You’re goin’ out to the fields. It’s ‘arvest time, everyone’s supposed to be out by order of Lord Greeneyes.”

“My grandmother is sick,” Martin repeats, and takes another step back, fury building. “Someone needs to take care of her. Sir,” he adds bitterly, hoping it might give him just a little leeway.

“Likely story, and even if it isn’, she can take care o’ herself,” the ferret scoffs, and prods him in the back, ready to herd him towards the field. “C’mon, mouse, get to work.”

“I’m not going to the fields!” Martin snaps. “And you’re a fool if you think that’s just a story!”

This time, the butt of the spear trips him. The guards stand over him, laughing. “Mutiny, eh?” The weasel says. He crouches down in front of Martin, tone mocking. “Well, mouse, if you apologize, maybe I won’t toss you in the cells for the night. You’re still young enough to learn obedience, aintcha?”

—and the story may land somewhere else.

The stoat has his claws tangled in the back of Martin’s smock as he holds him well away from his body, and he’s too small to do any real damage. He doesn’t let this stop him. Martin swings wildly from the guard’s grip, kicking and writhing and generally determined to be as inconvenient as possible.

“Izzat the one what broke Blackfur’s nose?” another guard asks, watching the stoat with fascination. “Lil’ thing like that?”

“Nah, just mouthed off and managed to get a kick in,” the stoat snaps back. “Just git the door open, would you, my arm’s about to fall off! Oi, hold still, damn you!”

Martin growls, and swipes at the guard’s wrist. The stoat flinches, but the chainmail shirt he’s wearing protects him from any real damage. He’s about to try again when the stoat shakes him, hard.

“‘Ere, toss ‘im with the other one. Easier to feed two at once,” the guard says, heaving open a heavy door. The stoat shakes him again for good measure before chucking him in. He collides with another figure just inside the door, and they both go spinning ears over tail. Before Martin can sort out whose limbs are whose, the door is already shut.

“Coward!” Martin shouts. “Lily-livered scum!”

His fellow prisoner giggles breathlessly. “You’re not wrong,” he says, “But d’you mind not hollerin’ it in my ear?”

It takes another moment or two for the pair to get untangled, until at last two mice peer curiously at each other in the gloom of the dungeon. The older one winks. “I’m Gonff,” he says, and offers a paw. “The guards didn’ appreciate my impression of an ottermaid I know. Seemed to think I was mockin’ Miss Tsarmina, even when I told ‘em it wasn’t true. Didya really break a guard’s nose like ‘e said?”

“No,” Martin says, taking the paw. “Kind of wish I had. I’m Martin. Why did they think you were making fun of Tsarmina?”

Gonff grin widens and he launches into a high pitched voice. “What do you mean I’m not allowed to go out on my own? It’s not fair! I’m going to scream and throw things until I get my way!” There’s a bit of a yowl in his voice. Either he’s imitating an otter very badly, or he’s doing a fair impression of the older, brattier child of Verdauga. Martin laughs helplessly. Gonff joins in, and the pair sit giggling in the straw until they’re both breathless.

Somewhere uncharted.

Sayna’s grip on Martin’s shoulder is tight, but not painful. He knows he worries her, and he doesn’t like to do that, but he dislikes the vermin so callously in charge of their lives more. She doesn’t say a word on the walk back to their hut, doesn’t even look at him, and when they arrive at their door, Martin’s long since prepared himself for a lecture.

Sayna just dabs at a cut over his eye with the corner of her apron. “Telling you not to fight is as useless as telling the spring rain not to fall,” she says at last. “So I won’t.” Martin looks at her, not sure he’s heard her correctly. She smiles, though it looks painful. “I never thought you’d just go along, Martin. But if you must fight, please, do so with your head.”

Martin considers this. He suspects she means something besides headbutting a guard, but he’s not sure what. “How?”

She crosses her arms and looks him up and down. “There are more weapons than tooth and claw, sword and spear,” she says at last. Sayna turns to gaze out over the huts of the hovel—hardly there for five seasons, and already starting to fall apart. “And more strength than that in your limbs. There’s strength in community and joy. Right now, we are scared, scattered. Defeated. But eventually…” She looks back down at her son. “Even if we were strong, our spirit is weak. We could never win, not now. Do you understand?”

“No,” Martin admits.  

Sayna hums. “For now, that means helping other woodlanders, cheering them up, and not attacking the guards. Can you do that?”

Martin bites at the fur on the side of his paw as he thinks. “I think so.”

In the now, we can never know what might have been.

“Oi! What d’ye think you’re doin’ there?” The accusation carries over the fields, and Martin looks up to see a ferret guard berating Twoola. “Keep pullin’ up those carrots, don’ stop!”

“Chestnuts, d’you think?” Gonff murmurs next to him.

Martin makes a face. “We do chestnuts too often,” he says. “What about cheeses?”

Gonff groans. “Fine,” he says, sounding incredibly put upon. “But don’t bite m’ear, will you? I could have sworn you took a bit out of it last time.” Without further discussion, he launches himself at Martin with a loud shout. “You rotten little fibber, you take that back!”

“Will not!” Martin yells, as the pair go rolling over and over along the row of radishes they’re tending. Miraculously, they don’t damage a single leaf. “You’re the one who stepped on my tail! Say you’re sorry!”

“Won’t!”

“Will!”

The shouts soon attract the attention of every guard within hearing range, and the ferret leaves off to come rushing over, whacking both of them as they struggle and fight, kicking and nipping and shoving loose dirt down each other’s smocks. It takes more than five minutes for the pair to be separated, but by the time they do, the ferret has long forgotten the exhausted, elderly mouse who wasn’t working quickly enough.

Bruised and dirty, Gonff and Martin are given a good scrub in the bath when they get home, as well as an extra slice of nutty bread to split between them.

We can only choose—

When winter screams across the hills Hey-oh, away-oh! We’ll huddle close against the chill Hey-oh, away-oh! Snow and ice won’t bother me As long as I have family Oh heave, haul, away-oh!

Sayna leads the woodlanders in the old season song as they crawl through the turnip patch, pulling up the roots and tossing them in their baskets.

When spring storms sweep across the plain, Hey-oh, away-oh! We’ll stay inside out of the rain, Hey-oh, away-oh! Rain will help the flowers grow This my friends and I do know, Oh heave, haul, away-oh!

They’re under guard as always. Martin’s paws are scratched, his back is sore, and he’s hungry. But he sings out as loudly as the rest, the song keeping the rhythm quick and easy.

When summer sun shines hot and bright, Hey-oh, away-oh! We’ll swim in streams so cool and light, Hey-oh, away-oh! It’s fun to laugh with friends and play In these high midsummer days, Oh heave, haul, away-oh!

He glances up and sees the bewilderment on the face of one of the guard’s, the way he shuffles away from the woodlanders who are singing as joyfully as if they would be allowed to keep the whole harvest. Martin grins fiercely, and raises his voice.

When there’s a chill in autumn’s breeze Hey-oh, away-oh! And gold and red touch chestnut leaves, Hey-oh, away-oh! Harvest, plenty, feast, and care With all my friends and family share Oh heave, haul, away-oh!

—and choose—

“Your mum would tan your tail if she found out you had that,” Gonff says as they walk bank side.

Martin raises one eyebrow, swinging his smuggled sling back and forth. “Maybe. And she’d tan your tail if she knew who’d been nicking bread off the Spikes’ window sill.” Gonff shrugs, unrepentant. “‘Sides, Skipper says I’m a natural, but I’ve still got to practice.”

Gonff grins. “Skipper says he wishes I were an otter, so I could be part o’ his crew.”

“He never,” Martin challenges, elbowing his friend in the side. “He says you’re a cove and a river pirate. I’ve heard him.”

“Ha! Just goes to show what you know, matey!” Gonff adds a swagger to his walk, swinging his tail as if it’s the thick rudder of an otter. “Blow me, but I’d be part o’ Skipper’s crew faster’n it’d take me to empty a pot o’ good ole hotroot soup.” His feet tangle mid-swagger and he trips, leaping up to the sound of Martin’s laughter.

“You liar! You chugged five cups of water the last time you had a spoonful!”

Gonff quickly changes the subject. “Well, go on, then, I want to see these natural sling talents o’ yours.”

“All right,” Martin says, starting to swing more purposeful circles. “Pick a target?”

“Betcha can’t hit the limb on that dead ol’ ash,” Gonff says, pointing out a tree on the opposite side of the bank and further up the stream. Martin narrows his eyes and, after a few more twirls, whips off a stone that smashes into the limb with a crack. This is quickly followed by a loud and angry buzzing.

With a shared look of horror, Martin and Gonff drag each other into the river, splashing down into the shallows near a bed of reeds, where the water is still enough to not carry them off.

When the yellow-jackets depart several minutes later, the pair of bedraggled mice emerge from the shallows. They’d gotten underwater quickly enough to avoid most of the swarm’s retaliation, and they apply pawfuls of sticky river mud to each other to ease the stings.

“Too bad they weren’t bees,” Gonff says after a moment. “We might’ve had some honey.” Martin shoves him backwards at this, and then races to rejoin the gathering party, Gonff close behind him.

—and hope that we’re brought safe to shore…

Gonff eases the door closed as they sneak away from the gathering in the Stickles’ home and towards Martin’s, where they’re supposed to be asleep. They don’t go in yet. The summer night is warm and the sky clear. Instead, Martin braces himself against the wall, and Gonff climbs onto the roof, hauling Martin up to join him.

“So that’s what’s been goin’ on,” Gonff says at last as they dangle their legs over the edge and stare at the stars. “I thought the guards were gettin’ a bit tense.”

“Mm. Explains a lot,” Martin agrees. His eyes are drawn to the hulk of Kotir, black with slime and shadows. “Verdauga’s ill, so Tsarmina’s taking on more power.”

“Guess Gingivere’s not gonna inherit after all.”

Martin scowls. “Even if he did, it wouldn’t matter.”

“I dunno, matey. Gingivere’s not a bad sort, for a wildcat.”

“A tyrant is a tyrant,” Martin argues, “even if they’re a benevolent tyrant.” He kicks his footpaws against the wall, and voices something he’s been thinking about for a long time. “Even if we do rise up, and get rid of Greeneyes, and Tsarmina, and the army, another one would come along. As long as Kotir’s there, there’s going to be some band of scum that want to come along and take it.”

Gonff snorts. “I’m not saying you’re wrong, but what’re we going to do? Tear down a fortress? It’s been there for seasons and seasons.”

“We won’t be free until that thing is gone,” Martin says, still staring at Kotir. “Not really.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, then,” Gonff says, and leans back on his paws, staring up. “We’ve still got an army and three wildcats to worry about before we get that far, matey.” Martin just nods, leaning forward to put his chin in his paws, thinking. “Someday ole Mossflower’ll be free again,” Gonff says after a long, pensive silence. “You’ll see.”

“Aye,” Martin agrees, eyes hard and glinting in the moonlight. “Someday...”

...and not lost at sea.

“...even if I have to die to make it so.”

Next

[fenneckitsune]

Marina.

Marina was obtained through an auction from the forum game thread ‘dungeons and a dragon’ where the object was essentially like twitch plays pokemon, where multiple people controlled the actions of one dragon. Below the read more is her story from the thread itself.

There comes a time in every young dragon's life where they must set out on their own. After all, few dragons remain in the lair they were hatched in. So, after receiving gifts from her parents and taking her own personal affects, she set out. As she walked down a dirt path, she saw before her a fork in the road. Her parents had told her she'd find someone who could open the gifted box for her somewhere, but she forgot where... Which way should she go? After several moments' consideration, she decides to go straight, to the little town. The town is cute, with little dragonmade structures lining streets in which dragons go about their business. Some stand behind booths, harping their wares, others drag wagons full of unique wares, others still converse with one another in the streets. Marina's attention is first drawn to a stall containing a variety of fish and shells, and then to one with something shiny resting on the counter. Next she notices what seemed to once be a gnarled tree that's been shaped into a structure of some sort, and hanging above the doorway is a sign upon which a picture of a cat is sloppily painted. Finally, she notices a colorful tent with designs embroidered on the thick cloth. She pays little mind to the fish stall, and gives the one with shiny objects and the tent only a passing glance as she heads to the structure with the cat on the sign. Cats were good. Clearly that was the most important place to go. Inside the structure was surprisingly well lit by what seemed to be some bioluminescent fungus, and a variety of creatures played in pens. There sat a desk off to the right, but it seemed unmanned. Marina's attention is drawn to the pen full of creatures. Inside are a variety of small animals, and though she has to think for a moment, she recognizes each from her studies and what she's seen around her first lair. Inside the pen she sees a Leopard Coralclimber, a Coral Basilisk, an Emerald Cave Jewel, and a Brush Dodo. It's a strange grouping but a wide variety of animals. Still, the owner is nowhere in sight. Marina takes a moment to glance around for an owner, but these creatures are just too cute! She cannot resist the urge to stick her paw into the pen, just to touch one animal. Her fingertips brush the Coral Basilisk's feathered back and it shies away, wings fluttering and making a clucking and squawking fuss. Immediately from a doorway (if the hole in the upper wall could be called that) a little Fae sticks her head out. "Spot, shh-- oh. What are you doing?" "I just wanted to pet one..." Marina answers the fae, looking just a bit guilty. "Hm. Well. You are just a hatchling. I suppose I'll let it slide." The fae says before climbing from her hiding spot. Marina can see that she's a fairly plain, amber and brown colored fae, but carries a number of bags on her. The fae continues, "Were you looking for work or to buy something?" "What jobs do you have?" Marina asks of the fae. The fae seems to size up Marina for a moment. "Well, familiars always need food and I can hardly go out hunting it myself, so I could use someone to go out and catch bugs and maybe a couple of small animals for me. I could also use a courier to take familiars to dragons in other places. Beyond that, well, you'd have to look elsewhere for work." The fae adds that she would pay 100 treasure for every food point brought back, or 1,000 treasure for each familiar delivered if taking a courier job. Marina decides that she'd do the hunting job for the fae. The fae explains that she's got four familiars in the shop, and each of those need at least one food point, but three is ideal. She then hands Marina a map with a couple areas circled, indicating good hunting spots. On the map are mostly areas Marina has at least looked at before. There's the woods visible from the fork in the road, the base of the cliff, and a field just on the other side of the town. It's a hard decision to make. Every region surely has its benefits and appeal. However, after staring at the map for a good long while, Marina finally decides to head to the woods. She bids the fae farewell, and makes her way out of town and down the road to the edge of the woods. The woods are lovely. Sunlight peers through leaves, speckling the ground, and the trees stand tall and straight and strong. Marina hears birds sing and sees the occasional bug skitter across the ground, and she swears she even saw the tail of something small as it pranced off through the bushes. It's no contest what Marina should do. She hasn't the strength to take on anything directly - even large beetles are scary to such a little dragon! She sets about digging a hole, moving rocks and twigs aside (and finding the occasional bug, which she quickly catches) before covering the hole with leaves. She retreats into some bushes to watch her trap, waiting for anything to come along. She'd nearly dozed off, her eyes having just closed when she heard a sudden commotion! She rushed to the now uncovered pit and looked inside. She had caught a cottontail rabbit! Even though by now the light of day is fading, Marina finds herself pondering her choices. While in town, her choices seemed easy, her path clear. Now that she had ventured out into the wilderness some, though, she wanted more. The rabbit and bugs would be fine in her bag until she needed them. What was the hurry? Though, now that she thought about it, she was starting to feel a bit hungry, too. Maybe she'd eat some of the rations she was given by her parents. Once she decided what to eat, she pulled out her map and peered at it in the fading light as she debated on where to explore. She sat down with her dried jerky for a quick dinner and looked her map over. The cliffs other places were tempting, but she already was in the woods. It might be easier to just stay here to explore more. Once she had finished eating, Marina put away her things and began following what seemed to be a path carved by other feet passing through in the past. As the light faded further, she began to realize just how dark nighttime could be when a canopy of leaves blocked out the stars and moon and she found herself slowing so as to avoid tripping over exposed roots and rocks. Marina had come this far into the woods already, and doubted that she could find her way back even if she tried. And even though the thought of just sitting and waiting for another to pass by crossed her mind, she decided against it. She continued walking, her pace little better than a crawl as she made her way along, trying to keep to the barely visible path that lied ahead of her. Around her she could hear the night coming to life with the hoots of owls, croaks of frogs, and chirps of crickets. Somewhere off in the distance, she swore she could hear the burbling of a stream. If it weren't so dark and creepy, it might almost be relaxing to just listen to the sounds of the woods. Then she heard a twig snap. At the sound of a twig snapping, Marina turned to face whatever it was that stepped on it. She breathed a sigh of relief when standing before her, apparently frozen in fear as it gazed up at her, was a little Glowing Pocket Mouse. She dismissed it with a small laugh, but then something occurred to her: this mouse certainly was a long way from home, out here in the woods. She leant in closer to study it, wondering if maybe she'd found some woodland variety, but she barely got the chance to really inspect it before it skittered off into the undergrowth. She turned to resume her travels, but in that next instant found herself face to face with a Serpenta. Oops. She turned and ran without a second thought from the Serpenta, paying little heed to where she was going and trying just to put as much distance between herself and the creature. Suddenly the ground beneath her feet seemed to vanish and an instant later she found herself sprawled out on smooth stones, with water splashing against her. She stood and shook, for whatever good it would do while she remained in the apparent creek. She looked around. It was so dark. She didn't know where she was. She thought she saw a light out in the distance, but it was a tiny floating thing. It could be the Pocket Mouse again, but then again it could be a traveler with a lantern... She stood in the cool water for a few moments, watching the light bobbing along in the distance as she considered her options. Eventually she decided that she would follow the creek. It seemed the safest of her options. Marina plodded along through the water, letting the pull of the current and the slivers of moonlight glinting off the surface guide her. Now and then she would stumble on slippery stones, but as she carried on she began to get a feel for how to move. She didn't know for how long she'd walked, but the sky had begun to turn purple as the sun rose somewhere off in the distance. It was as the sky lightened further that she saw ahead of her a spring, the origin of the creek. She slowed to a stop to take in her surroundings in the improved light, and finally noticed the growling of her stomach and ache of fatigue in her legs. She waded through the creek towards the edge of the spring where she finally climbed out of the water. The grass was soft beneath her feet. She took her recently caught rabbit out, deciding that it really was worth more to her to eat now than it was to return to the fae for a reward. With her belly full and soft morning light peering through the trees to warm her, Marina felt herself quickly drifting off. When she woke, a strange dragon was peering down at her with curious pale eyes. "Hello." Marina greeted the little dragon standing above her. Immediately the dragon twittered, a sound between surprise and delight, as she pranced away without a word. She stood about twenty feet away, near the other side of the spring, looking at Marina. Marina climbed to her feet and shook off her sleepiness and the grass and looked at the other dragon. "Please don't run away! Come back!" Marina called out to the other dragon, whilst remaining standing where she was. She was wary. What if following the other dragon led her into a trap...? The strange dragon trotted back to Marina, stopping just a few feet away before wiggling playfully, spinning, and bounding away again. Perhaps she wanted to play? Marina took off after her. Once the strange dragon saw that Marina was giving chase, she took off running. She was quick, but stopped now and then to allow Marina to catch up. She ran up a small hill, darted around trees, and through bushes until finally coming to a stop upon a boulder. Upon the boulder were scratched symbols. It looked like the drawing of someone young. Quite possibly the strange dragon's work. Marina stepped closer to peer at the boulder, when suddenly a light from beneath her caught her eye. She stepped back and the light faded. She looked down, noticing for the first time that there was a line of symbols in the dirt as well.

Marina pressed her paw onto the pawprint, and it lit up. It was the same soft light as had caught her eye before, but when she looked up to the strange dragon she saw her shaking her head. Apparently that was not the right symbol. When she removed her paw again, the light faded once again. She looked at the symbols a moment, her attention torn briefly between the flower and the drop. Well, water was her element so what could it hurt to step on the raindrop? She lifted her paw and pressed it onto the raindrop symbol. It lit up like the paw print, just a faint light that faded once she removed her paw. Again, the strange dragon shook her head. The dragon sat and watched her curiously. Marina confidently pressed her paw onto the flower, almost certain that this was surely the correct one! Again, however, it lit up faintly only to fade when her paw was removed. The strange dragon seemed to sigh, shaking her head again before leaning down to repeatedly tap the carvings on the rock's face. "Hey! Look there! Look more closely!" her actions seemed to say. There really was one more choice now, though. And yet, Marina was determined that the paw was what she should step on. So again she placed her paw there, a look of determination in her eye as she stared up at the strange dragon as if to say "HA! I KNOW this is the one!" The strange dragon smacks her own paw to her face and drags it down with a look of exasperation. She sighs, and just stares at Marina. Like before, the paw lights up with just a faint light that fades when her paw is removed. Weird. That really should've worked. Well, what hasn't she tried yet? The sun, of course! She planted her paw onto it, and finally there was a different result. The light beneath her paw had a pleasant green tone and glowed brighter than any of the previous illuminations. When she removed her paw, the light remained.

After having the sun light up differently, Marina took a look at the stone carvings again. She had it! She was sure she understood how this puzzle worked! With confidence she pressed her paw onto the pawprint now. Like the sun, when she removed her foot the pawprint was lit with a green light. The strange dragon smiled down at her, pleased that she had apparently realized what to do now.

Lo and behold, after the paw print came the flower! When she pressed her paw to the flower symbol and removed it, it too retained a green glow. It seemed that there was only one real decision left, then!

The strange dragon remained on the rock, but sitting beside her now was the box Marina's parents had given her at the start of her adventure, the lock on it now clearly undone. Had she taken it while Marina was sleeping? Was it magic? Was it really the same box? Who cared that the strange dragon seemed to have unlocked the box? It was unlocked! Marina could finally see what was inside! She clambered up onto the rock beside the other dragon and lifted the lid of the box. The first thing that catches her sight is a letter that reads "Dear Marina, if you are reading this it means that you have managed to pass the trial of a guardian! Congratulations! We're so proud of you! Inside this chest are a few items we thought would help you as you go off to explore even more exotic locales and discover more about the world. Good luck out there! Mom and Dad" Inside the box were a number of items: Field Manual, Scholar, Discipline, Aid, Hydro Bolt, Major Health Potion, and a Cleansing Elixir.

[kpopfanfictrash]

Addewid

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: You / Kai (Jongin)

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 3,726

Summary: “You cannot appeal to my better nature, for I have none. I am not human, little one.”

You’ve always known you were different. You’re able to see them, after all, able to see the Others. You’ve also always ignored them. Until the day comes where you’re forced to make a choice - one that throws your world into chaos. And sends you down a path you might never return from.

As we step into the forest, shadows wrap themselves around us like branches and my breath catches. The enormity of what I’ve done crashes over me and I find it hard to stand.

I’ve just sold myself to the Unseelie court.

There’s not much time to think about this though, as the land of nightmares swallows me whole.    

II - The Other

Only five steps into Faery, I know I’ve made a mistake.

For the first minute of walking it seems we’re still outside the bookstore. Still moving through clustered pines and familiar boughs. I’m not sure at what point this changes, just that one minute I look up and the mist is closer. The trees, darker. They grow in strange, twisted shapes to make my pulse race.

The leaves on one tree seem dipped in crimson. Emerald fades to scarlet at the tip, like a finger touched by poison. My eyes linger for only a moment before something else grabs my attention. Flowers so deep purple they’re almost black, shying away as we pass. Actually turning to mutter amongst themselves. I think I hear them whisper.

Suddenly I’m grateful for the fairy’s grip on my arm. It’s too tight, nearly suffocating but it’s the one thing that gives me a semblance of reality. Keeps me grounded amidst so much terror. The branches slide together and the creaky drip of water echoes past. Whether or not it’s actually raining is a mystery, since the trees overhead are too dense to see.

Staring up at them, I almost trip over a root. Nearly face plant before the hand on my arm yanks me straight again. “Pay attention,” Kai hisses.

Face burning, I look forward. I’m silent as we continue our forced march. The stranger doesn’t make a sound. His footsteps don’t echo, nor do the branches crack beneath his feet. Me – I’m incorrigible. A virtual thunderstorm of sound. I never realized quite how loud I was until this moment.

Like my breathing – deafening. Even my strides are too large. I keep bumping into the strange fairy, his arms, his legs, his hip. Each step brings a new glare in my direction. One I quell from, wishing I knew how to step lighter.

The third time I trip seems to be the last straw.

With a low exhale, the Prince drags me to face him. “Must you attract the attention of every creature between here and the Unseelie?”

Instead of answering, I glance around. “Are we not in the Unseelie now?”

“No.” His eyes flicker.  “This is the Other – borderlands between the human world and Faery. Getting noticed in these woods would be a decidedly bad idea.”

Swallowing my fear, I look back down. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to get us noticed.”

“Then be quieter.”

“I can’t.” I glare back at him, jaw tight.  “The last time I tried to hike through the woods was – well, never,” I say, chancing a glance up at him. I’ve never really been the outdoorsy type. For good reason, apparently.

Prince Kai stares back at me. “Then we’ll have to move quickly.” 

Grabbing my arm, he takes off once more in the same direction we’ve been travelling. Though whether that’s north or south or east or west or up or down, I couldn’t say.

Do directions even exist in Faery? Would a map have that same, known compass in the upper right hand corner? Or would it be some entirely new direction I never knew existed. It seems fair to assume anything happening in Faery is completely detached from the human world. Starting with my immortal jailer.

My gaze glances sideways as we walk. Or rather, as he walks and I’m dragged alongside him. The tips of his fingers dig into my arm – though he leaves no mark. He’s beautiful, but like all things in Faery his beauty is designed for a purpose. A face so inhumanely perfect, it’s mesmerizing. He reminds me of those snakes which lure in their prey by pretty colors, subduing them to complacency right before they kill them.

In this scenario, Kai is the predator and I am the prey. His hair is silver, hanging casually above his dark, almond-shaped eyes. They scan the woods as we walk, his ever-watchfulness never lessening. The Prince’s body is tall, lean – muscled without being showy.

Though his skin is pale, it seems almost like pallor. As though he hasn’t been out in the sun in a long time. Beneath that dullness lies an almost golden sheen, like ice laid over amber.

“Why are you looking at me?”

My gaze snaps downwards. I didn’t realize he could see me – then again, I suppose I don’t really know how far his magic reaches. Or what this Prince can do.  

“I – no reason.” When his gaze meets mine, I repress a shudder. “I was thinking you must not go outside that often.”

A small furrow appears in his brow. “What?”

“I – nothing.” My lips press firmly together. “It’s unimportant.”

As the Prince opens his mouth, I notice the forest has grown quiet around us. Before there was the pitter-patter of raindrops, the slide of leaves, the whisper of flowers. Now there’s nothing.

It’s as I notice this that the Prince stills. His eyes drift sideways, scanning the newly quiet space. His body lowers into a crouch almost automatically, turning in a circle. He stops halfway to stare into a dark overhang between branches. The space he’s looking at is black as night, fading from twilight to midnight within footsteps.

“Get behind me,” Kai says, his voice low and urgent.

He doesn’t have to tell me twice. Hands trembling, I scramble to stand behind him. It’s then that it occurs to me I could run. Kai is facing away. There’s something in the forest to keep him preoccupied while I slip away, unnoticed.

Slowly, hesitantly I take a step backwards. 

Something rustles in the bushes. I take another step. And then another before it seems like the entire forest erupts. Something lunges into the clearing, powerful muscles tensing as it towers over Kai.

The thing growls – or maybe speaks. There’s a chilling combination of clicks as something slippery falls from its mouth to the ground.  Kai’s face remains immobile, though a flicker of a smile crosses his face. He draws his sword from within his sheath.

The thing moves first, not in a step but in a leap faster than the eye can see. My blood chills - Kai is going to die, he has to. There’s no way he can win against this great, towering thing which moves like lightning. A hole widens where it’s mouth should be, displaying dozens of razor sharp teeth. Two slits are its eyes, ruby red and narrow.

When the beast moves I realize that Kai is no longer there. There’s a sharp, sickening squelch of metal through flesh and the thing roars, lashing towards something I cannot see.

Kai darts suddenly from underneath, eyes ablaze and teeth bared. He looks wild – feral, even. It makes him even more breathtaking. The prince’s sword slashes, silver in the night. The beast roars as its dark, shadowy paw comes down faster than Kai can move. He dodges but is nicked in the shoulder.

The prince staggers before disappearing. I don’t see how or where – don’t stay long enough to find out. Instead, I turn and run. Run as though my life depends on it, because it does. The forest stumbles along with me, dark and looming on all sides. My breath is gasping, head spinning as I struggle to focus.

I know I’m making a lot of noise as my feet fly, arms pumping but I can’t help it. It’s as I run that a cold pit starts to form in my stomach. What if I can’t get out? What if I’ve actually been running in the wrong direction this entire time? Despite my worry, I continue on. Now that I’ve started, I don’t see another way out.

The undergrowth falls beneath my feet, screams of flowers serenading as I step on throats - and then another noise. My head snaps sideways with the realization that something else is crashing through the forest with me.

Large, lumbering, limber. Did I say that my stomach sank before? I didn’t mean it. That was nothing compared to now, nothing compared to the realization that of course that thing didn’t hunt alone. 

There’s a clearing ahead and I’m almost there when the thing leaps out at me. I skid to a stop, screaming as I stumble. From the ground, the thing is even more terrifying than before. Before there was Kai between us - before, it wasn’t focused on me.

Drool hangs from its jaw, unhinged as it sinks even closer to the ground. Its eyes are red, oddly coherent in their appraisal of me. It seems confused, as though unable to label me friend or foe. Its jaw keeps opening and closing, harsh, guttural noises coming from the back of its throat.

It’s form is indecipherable because it keeps on shifting. One second I think it’s similar to a bear. Then a giant. Then boulder. It’s always the same color though – a deep, pulsating, nightmarish black.

I’m frozen, flat on my butt where I’ve fallen. Just for a moment though, before my hands are scrambling – pushing me backwards, upwards. Looking for something to fight with. When my right hand close around a rock I swing it forward, chucking it at the beast without a second thought.

Wrong move.

My attack shakes the thing from confusion to identify me as a threat. With a blood-curdling shriek, the thing launches itself forward – only to shudder to a half as the hilt of a sword embeds itself in its chest.

Kai leaps into the clearing, sprinting towards the beast. The sword is his. He’s thrown it – normally a terrible idea – but effective, in this case. As he runs he yanks two daggers from his belt, brandishing in each hand to dart beneath the mass of animal.

The thing yowls, turning towards this new threat. Kai’s face is stone as he moves, slicing a vicious streak over the beast’s maw. The thing stumbles, dropping to what I think are its legs. Kai doesn’t hesitate, flipping onto the beast’s back. Stabbing both his daggers down and breaking its neck.

The thing shudders. Twitching for a moment before slowly falling to one side. It’s landing contains all the muffled grace of an earthquake. Kai jumps from its back to land lightly before me.

The clearing around us is silent.

Slowly, my hands uncurl from the earth. Eyes wide, breath coming in heavy waves as I meet the dark Prince’s gaze. His hair is askew, clothing slashed and there’s blood on his arm – I remember that he was wounded in his first fight. Kai’s eyes flicker, such anger present I physically recoil.

“You foolish girl,” he mutters.  

I clamp my jaw shut to bite down my retort.

The Prince takes a small step forward. “You are bound to me. This is Addewid, you cannot run. Where did you think you were going, even?” His eyes scan the forest. “This clearing is not fifty paces from where the first attack occurred. You ran in a circle.”

My eyes move around our surroundings. How is that possible?

Kai drops into a crouch before me, his voice like a caress. “You swore for the rest of your life that you would reside in Faery. A promise like that is not so easily broken. If you try to escape again, you’ll just end up by my side. Or worse.”

The weight of his statement settles over me. I can never escape. Never leave. I falter with the weight, for the first time realizing the full extent of what I’ve done. For the rest of my life I will be stuck with this cold, unfeeling stranger who looks at me like I’m dirt on his shoe. This thing that killed two beasts twenty times his size and is barely winded.

The Prince cocks his head at me. “Stand.”

I remain where I am. Seated, in the mud and muck. It seems a better option than going with such a horror.

This entire time Kai has been cleaning his knives and now that he’s finished, he tucks them away in his belt. His eyes narrow when he sees me still sitting there, grabbing at my wrists to pull me upwards. “I can carry you if I need to,” he warns. “It won’t be pleasant.”

“I’ll walk, thanks.”

“Good.”

I look up just in time to catch him wince, to see the way his hand brushes his shoulder. As he moves to tug his sword free from the animal’s chest, I notice he’s favoring one arm. The thing is hurt. Not that this means anything to me. With quick, practiced movements the Prince cleans his sword, sliding it back into its scabbard and turning to face me. His face is once more like stone and I wonder if I imagined his pain from earlier.

The forest has resumed normalcy – or whatever you could call normalcy in a shadowed, Faery forest. As we continue to walk, Kai doesn’t touch me. He insists on me walking slightly before him so he can keep an eye on me. The humiliation of this doesn’t escape me and I hold my head high as we walk, refusing to let being treated like this break me.

We walk for what seems like miles. Sometimes we stop for rest but always in short, measured periods. Ones where Kai sits stock-still and closes his eyes, and I don’t try to run. The string of his words still rests sharp on my consciousness.

So does the terror I felt when facing that dreaded beast. I know that, had Kai not intervened I would be dead. I don’t have the capability to survive in these woods. Its a small wonder that the Fey view us humans as beneath them. 

“Let’s go.”

I find Kai looking at me, eyes open and clear. The Prince rises noiselessly from his rock, nodding for me to do the same. We continue on, walking for hours, miles, until my eyes start to drift. They flutter against my cheeks as I stumble.

That’s when I notice my breath turning to mist. Fogging ahead into the cool, night air. It must be colder here - strange that I didn’t notice. I’m smiling when I turn to him. “It’s so pretty here,” I say.

There’s confusion in Kai’s dark eyes. Alarm, when he looks at my coat. Murmuring darkly, Kai scans the horizon. “We’re still an hour or so out,” he says, gaze returning to mine.

I shrug, raising my hand to the nearest ice covered branch. “Pretty,” I murmur. 

Though my fingertips slide against the bough, all I note is texture. The temperature feels about the same as I am.

Kai says something which sounds distinctly like a swear, though I don’t recognize it. 

I frown. “That didn’t sound nice.”

“It wasn’t.” Ignoring my noise of protest, Kai bends suddenly to heave me over his shoulders. Sliding his body beneath mine to lift. I shudder at his touch, curling away from the ice of his skin.

“Let go of me,” I protest – though feebly.

“No.”

Then he begins to run. My forehead sags awkwardly before I’m adjusted into a more manageable position. The forest flies by in a blur of greens and grey and white. I realize how slowly Kai has been traveling because of me. I only think about this fleetingly though, as the thought comes and goes before I can grasp any sort of meaning.

My eyes begin to drift shut.

“Don’t sleep,” Kai says, his voice low. “You can’t fall asleep.”

Frowning, I stare at the back of his neck. “Why not, Prince Kai?”

“Because I won’t allow it.”

“You can’t tell me what to do, you don’t own me.”

“Ah, don’t I?”

The thought makes me pause. “No.”

“But you made me a promise,” he says, and to my ears it sounds like he’s smiling. But that’s ridiculous – Prince Kai would never smile. 

“I made a promise to stay with you,” I mutter. “Not cater to your every whim and fancy.” 

The body beneath mine shakes and I realize it’s because he’s laughing. The immortal Prince Kai is laughing.

“That would have been a far more interesting promise.”

Before I can respond, the world slows around us. Solidifying into a discernable landscape of grey and white. There’s a house – although maybe I wouldn’t call it a house, given its size. Castle, would be more appropriate. Or manor. Kai stops at the threshold, pushing open the heavy oak doors with one hand.

He doesn’t set me down, moving towards the polished staircase to our right as a strange, tingling sensation starts to spread to my feet. It hurts and I make a small noise against the cloth of his shirt, turning my head into his back.

Kai’s body stills beneath mine. “We’re almost there,” he whispers.

“Where?” I ask, the noise barely audible. My eyes are barely open by now.

The next span of time is a blur. Hands which give me to other hands. A murmur of voices. Tugging of my clothes and a gasping sensation as I’m lowered into water. It hurts. I whimper, trying to escape but strong hands push me down. Keep me there. Rubbing feeling back into my limbs.

I almost wish that they hadn’t. I scream when the pain arrives. Scream until the noise fades to moans as I struggle to keep conscious. Which isn’t for too much longer before blessed darkness takes me. As I drift off, I think I hear a voice speaking above me.

“She’ll live, won’t she?”

There’s a murmuring answer.

“Thank god.”

When my eyes open, I don’t recognize my surroundings. It’s too bright and I quickly shut my eyes against the pain. Slowly easing them open as my pupils adjust.

The room is white. White as snow, light as ice. The soft, downy comforter I’m wrapped in is a pearly shade of grey – the darkest shade in the room. Gossamer curtains cover each window, drifting down to bleached wood below. The bed I’m in has four posts – each hung with their own, gauzy fabric.

I blink lazily up at it all, struggling to make sense.

The events of the past twenty four hours come crashing down around me and my eyes shut as I fall back against the pillows. I’m in Faery. In what must be the residence of my captor, the fairy Prince Kai.

There’s no one else in the room with me. Nor is there really much of anything at all. Nothing besides the bed, a dresser and a wardrobe. There are no books I realize, slowly pushing myself into a sitting position. As I do, the covers fall down about my waist.

I scream, the rash noise leaving my throat before I can consider it’s consequences. I can’t help it - waking up naked and alone in a strange man’s house will do that to you. No, no, not a man – one of the Fey.

The door to the room flies open.

My hands are around my chest before I know what I’m doing, pulling the sheet up as fast as I can. I don’t know whether I’m relieved or not when a woman enters.

The woman is also Fey, though she looks much older than Kai. I wonder briefly how that works – how one immortal can look old compared to another. Her eyes scan me from head to toe, fading quick from worry to sharpness.

“What in that world?” She places a hand on her hip. “You were screaming bloody murder. I thought a bannik got to you.”

Confused, I blink back at her. “A what?”

“A bannik. Small, feisty. Hides beneath stoves and throws things – thought one may have crept up from the kitchens. That’s not important.” Yanking back my curtains, she holds out a lump of clothing to me. Not my clothing, though and when I don’t react, she huffs in frustration. “Come on dear, I have things to do. Your brush with hypothermia took up quite a bit of my time last night.”

Hypothermia. I stare down at my hands, spread on the bed sheet. That explains the strange dream – the water, the pain, the nakedness. A formidable blush emerges as I clutch the sheet tighter. “Were… were you the one who undressed me?”

“No.” Briskly, the woman shoos me from bed. I don’t move until she yanks the sheet, forcing my legs to the floor. “That was the Master.”

Cheeks coloring, I pull my sheet along with me. “And the Master is…?”

Her eyebrows rise. “His Majesty, Prince Kai.”

“Excellent.”

The woman resumes making the bed, fluffing and snapping with all the efficiency of a war veteran. When she notices me staring, she nods. “Go on, get changed. The Master requested you attend dinner tonight. That’s in two hours and I need to make sure you’re presentable by then.”

“Two… hours?” I’ve never needed longer than a half-hour to get ready in my life.

“I know, it’s not a lot of time.” The woman sadly shakes her head. “But we’ll make do. At least you’re looking better now,” she notes, scanning my body. “A bit of color back in your complexion.”

I bend, scooping up clothing from where she’s laid it on the bed. “T-thank you,” I hear myself say.

“For what, dear?”

I can’t say what I want to. Which is that this strange, brusque woman is the first shred of kindness I’ve experienced since coming to Faery. I can’t say that though, so I turn away. “Thank you for nursing me back to health.”

“Humph.” She continues to make the bed. “I did what I could, dear. You should really thank the Master though.”

“Why?” At the door to the bathroom, I pause. “What, did he try to drown me in the bath and decided better of it?”

A small smile crosses the woman’s face. “He healed you.”

Her words nearly make me drop my clothing - I catch it just in time. “He… what?” I sputter, not sure I heard correctly.

“He healed you,” she says, looking over at me. “You’re lucky not to have lost a foot. Healing is a power I haven’t seen the Master use since… well.” The woman falls silent. “It’s been a long time.”

A long silence settles over the room. “Dinner is in two hours?” I manage.

The woman’s smile returns as she smooths out the comforter. “Dinner is in two hours.”

[Master List]

[twdgfanfiction]

Chapter 26 - One Month Later

Weeks had passed since their failed attempt and the punishment was going strong. Whilst Omid and Lee were forced outside the walls to work on clearance, Lilly was put outside as well after a week, having been checked on her injuries from the crash by Jack. The day after the escape, Nick was put with Omid and Lee late, after being treated by Jack for injuries to his arms and hands, though the circumstances of those injuries remained unknown to anyone save the doctor. With those four outside, Ellie was returned to her old job in the paddock, although it must have been lonely out there without Alex helping her and keeping her company. Pity sat in his stomach, and he knew that the others weren't faring any better either.

Kristina, because of her amputated leg and injuries, was not able to be put outside with the rest of them, and instead was forced to work in the engineering with Nathan, helping him repair the van that the group had destroyed. Walter was shoved with Gabriel, mostly because he was older than everyone else and Carver was sure he would drop dead before doing any physical work. It was unfair. Walter was just as hardworking as the rest of them, but working in the kitchens would at least keep him safe from the walkers that were shuffling around in the undergrowth a distance from the group.

The exhaustion combined with the hunger seemed to have drained any fight from Lee, and he could see that everyone else was feeling the same, all of them trudging through the snow with fallen faces. The pen was no better for them. Over the weeks, it had been reinforced to prevent them desperately squeezing through the bars or climbing them, and the shutters were given a padlock that only Carver had the key to. It meant more hassle for the guards to locate it, but it also meant that the group couldn't convince anyone else to let them go. No one seemed to want to either, remembering Dwight's smeared body on the concrete. Without the ex-guards to help, trapped in the same place, they all were screwed without outside help.

Luke, who Lee didn't trust in ever since he met him, seemed to have been working hard to develop that trust. Seeing his determination, especially after all the shit they have been through, Lee could see a better friendship between them after a rocky start. The young man came into the Pen after being treated for his injuries, and he looked like death. Still, he believed that Carver wanted to trust Luke, he was his son after all, and allowed Luke to work with Oliver in the school upstairs. Jealousy twisted in his gut.

Instead, Joel, who replaced Tess for the day, watched them work hard, staring angrily at the ground as he fiddled with his rifle. The work was proving too much for even four people, and Lee breathed heavily, his lungs feeling heavy as he gulped in huge breaths. Glancing at his axe, he looked back at the huge trunk and something clicked, moving along the trunk whilst the others watched him in confusion. Without a word, he began chopping the trunk at set intervals, marking the rough bark to keep record of where he was.

With each set mark, he turned to the others and explained. "The tree is too big for even all of us to move, not in our current condition, so why not chop it up into smaller chunks to spread across all of us? We can move each chunk by ourselves, and clear up the trees faster than if we all tried tackling one big trunk."

"That's genius, Lee." Omid smiled, eager to have his workload made easier with the initiative idea, and moved to begin chopping the tree on the mark. Lee carried on with another one, whilst the others followed their leads and began chopping the tree into smaller chunks. When the first one was done, they used discarded rope to tie up the chunks, pulling them to roll the tree parts to the designated spot where the wood would be dumped. Slowly, the pile grew, and the group moved on to the next fallen tree.

No one wanted to talk about Sarah. Nick appeared depressed whenever she was brought up, and Lee knew that Christa and Omid treaded on eggshells around him. He already lost one child, and he's messed up caring for another one. In fact, over the weeks, no one seemed to even think of bringing her up, but her name was spoken as whispers all around the community; and unlike the harsh words for the group, most were scared for her safety, others giving up hope that she was even alive. With the thought of her intruding his mind, he pushed it back, unwilling to break with work to do, and he carried on chopping.

Whilst they got to work chopping up the trees that they had chopped down, Lee glanced over at the tired guard and tried to strike a conversation. "I thought it was Tess that was watching us today."

"She was sent out scouting this morning to find new survivors to bring here. Hopefully, she'll behave enough that they would actually want to go with her." Joel grumbled, leaning against the wall as he looked over the small area that had been cleared, noting the tree stumps removing. "When you finish with the trees, start on the stumps. We ain't got much daylight so I'd hurry about it."

The annoyed tone in his voice caused Lee to quieten, wondering how many bridges the group had burned with the people in the community. Whilst Joel was angered with their plan, as they were stealing medicine from an already depleted supply, some of the other guards were sympathetic for Alex and Dwight's deaths, feeling like it was hard for Kristina and Ellie, but also served as a warning that it was pointless to try and run. Lee feared that their failure not only hurt the group, but stopped anyone else from standing up to their leader. Even Jack was saddened by Alex's death, mostly from his position as the doctor, but he was relieved that Lee didn't rat on him when they got caught.

Over the weeks, the people glared at them, and Christa revealed how many gave her backhanded comments due to Carver giving her allowance because of her pregnancy, moving her from the group into another room inside the building with the onset of winter finally arriving, mostly due to Jack pestering him. She was allowed food that the rest of the community were given, and she remained in the greenhouse, working with Beth and Frank and Omid was thankful for that.

Whilst the labour caused his hands to redden and become painful, the weather wasn't terrible, though the fresh snow crunched under their feet that had fallen during the time. Lee cursed quietly as he nearly slipped, holding onto Omid as his foot hit a small puddle of ice, the smaller man grunting as the weight collided into him. Luckily, they righted themselves, and both continued work as Lilly tied the ropes to the chopped trunks in order to pull them. Holding one end, she passed it to Nick, quietly muttering to him. "Be careful, we don't want you hurting yourself further."

"I could say the same about you," he pointed out, referencing her injuries. "I thought you would be given more time considering your bruised ribs."

"If Alex wasn't given enough time to recover, what made you think I would?" she sighed, before she tried to deflect the worries. "Honestly, I'm fine. If anything, I think I got off lucky..."

With a fallen expression, she carried on work whilst Lee frowned deeply, recalling the incident in perfect clarity. The sight of the blood staining the ground, the screaming and crying, the smug look on Carver's face as he knew he won the battle. It all echoed in his head, and he would give anything to make it all stop. He was unable to sleep, to eat properly, it was just like those first few weeks after Clementine died. If this kept going on, Lee didn't know how long he could handle it for. It was driving him insane. Regardless, he kept working in hopes that it would push those intrusive thoughts out of his head, and he used the rope to pull the heavy chunks, his feet struggling to find a foothold in the fresh snow.

His breath clouded in front of his face as he exhaled. The temperature was definitely dropping, even with the sun rising through the wide mass of trees that made up the forest around them, the light illuminating the community behind them, and gave light to the dark undergrowth that had walkers shuffling in the distance. The ones that were killed over the weeks that Lee and his small group were working outside were piled up, being burned to prevent diseases from spreading from the rotting flesh, the pile of fresh walkers from that morning lying lifeless; milky eyes staring up at the sky. Staring at them, he could hear the groans and growls from the newly arrived walkers ready to feed, sighing under his breath at the thought of spending another day fighting for his life.

Turning around, he noticed that only a few walkers were coming towards them, most likely due to the noise from the falling trees ceasing whilst they finish with the area. Still, it was dangerous to constantly fight them and work, and Carver was not pleased with the progress they were making, causing his teeth to grit in anger at the thought of the bastard sitting in his office whilst they were risking their lives for a community they wanted to leave. With his axe in hand, he moved towards the walkers with Nick whilst Omid and Lilly stayed back, getting on with the work so that they could make some progress that day.

"I got your back." Nick comforted, holding his axe tightly as the walkers split to chase the different targets. Moving back, Lee raised his axe high above his head, waiting for the walker to come close before bringing it down hard, cracking through the top of the monster's skull and causing blood to splatter onto his already dirty jacket, the zipper pulled all the way to try and fight the oncoming cold. The walker fell down with the axe blade still embedded in its head, causing Lee to stumble with it from weakness.

Grunting, his head turned to the approaching walker, pulling his axe with all his strength, and spinning it around so that it connected with the side of the walker's neck, completely severing its head from its body, the head rolling along the ground before it came to a complete stop. With it weakly growling on the floor, its body falling with a dull thud without the brain to control it, the head was powerless as Lee stomped on it, causing the noises to cease as he attempted to wipe the blood from his shoe. The smell of the rotting flesh knocked him a disgusted groan, he turned around to see Nick having dispatched the walkers after him, his face relieved that Lee managed alright on his own.

"We better put these on the pile." He pointed out, before adding with an exhausted sigh. "I don't know how long I can keep doing this, Lee. Between the fighting every day and the lack of food, I'm ready to collapse."

"We'll get through this, Nick. We got to." Lee tried to motivate, but he understood the younger man's worries. He could feel the strength leaving him every day from poor food and overworked conditions, and he was worried what would happen if one day, he was unable to get up anymore.

Nick could only manage a weak smile, before he placed his axe on a stump and grabbed one arm of each walker, pulling them both towards the small pile ready for burning. Lee copied, grabbing the arms and tugging them, grunting with each pull as the weight proved harder than he thought, his stomach growling loudly as it begged for food. Pausing, he glanced out into the distance, wondering if Sarah was running into the same problem as they were, no food or water and running out of energy to keep going. He was worried, even moreso when his nightmares grew more frequent. Shaking his head, he carried on dragging the dead weights, stopping when he reached the pile and throwing the corpses on.

The exhaustion hit him, and he could only let out a loud exhale as his hands held onto his knees, Lee bent over tired whilst he tried to catch his breath back. From behind him, he listened as Lilly and Omid continued to drag the logs along the ground, the snow gathering in front of it and slowing it down, causing them to have to pull the rope harder. Quickly, he heard Lilly yell in pain, straightening himself and turning in time to see her stumbling backwards, her arm pressed against her chest as her face contorted in pain. Nick was by her side, letting her sit down on the stump as he started to address Joel. "She's in no shape to be out here! Look at her!"

"I can't break the rules for you guys, not anymore. I-I'm sorry." By the concerned look on his face, Lee could see that Joel wasn't being strict with them because he was angry with them, and he couldn't bring himself to hate the man for it. Instead, he grabbed the rope that Lilly had dropped and continued to pull the log to the pile.

As he was pulling it, he listened as Lilly tried to stop him. "Lee, it's fine. Just give me a minute."

"In our group, we look after our injured." He brushed off, snapping the sentence at Joel, feeling the want to lash out and rebel building up in him. People have died, Sarah was gone, and those that remained were being treated like garbage. He would not stop fighting against it until he was dead, feeling that he owed his group to try and save them. Nearing the pile, he undid the ropes and shuffled with it, the log rolling awkwardly on the ground, before pushing it onto its side in the pile, seeing it growing and growing.

In a way, he was proud of their work, and wondered if they would ever be realised by the community. Behind him, he could hear a sharp intake of breath, and Nick's voice quietly talking, panic laced in the words as he worried if the woman was going to become worse at any second. "I'm sorry, is it painful here?"

"More now that you're poking it. Just leave it, I'll be better after a break." Lilly snapped, a small pause occurring between everyone before she softly continued. "I'm sorry. I know you're only trying to help."

"It's nothing, but I don't think you can get much longer without someone coming along and spotting us. Joel is already getting into trouble letting this." He pointed out, helping her stand up before she finally nudged him away, straightening herself out on her own. It was a facade. She tried desperately to not let anyone see how much everyone was dragging her down, but Lee saw it happening before. She had the same look in her eyes; tired, downtrodden, it was almost like she was ready to give up and snap, just like before.

He didn't want to make things worse by getting strict on her, but after what she did the last time she snapped, all Lee wanted to do was make sure people were safe and Lilly didn't do anything she would regret. He would have to keep an eye on her. For now, he and Omid carried on with his work, and the other two finally got up to continue the tasks they had. It wasn't long before more of the undead stumbled onto the scene, drawn in by the sound of metal axes hitting the rough bark of the tree, the sounds only small but enough to catch the attention of the nearby corpses.

"Does this shit ever stop?!" Nick cursed, moving to Lee's side to get ready to clear them out, only for his face to drop when more appeared than he thought. "Jesus fucking Christ, look at them all. Why are there so many in this part of the forest, we aren't even close to the highway!"

"They could be coming from Parker's run, couple of miles up north from here." Lilly pointed out, stopping in her job as well as she saw the number of walkers trudging towards them. There had to be close to thirty of them, and there was no way they would be able to fight off all of them by themselves.

Turning to Joel, Lee's voice was urgent as he begged. "Joel, we can't keep going like this! We gotta go back inside or you gotta help us!"

Unsure, Joel moved his gaze from Lee to the walkers that were closing in on them, his face fallen when the gravity of the situation finally hit him. Raising his gun, he nodded at Lee as he obeyed. "Okay, I'll help…"

Grateful, Lee turned back to the walkers, his axe held tightly, and he saw everyone else readying themselves to fight. Few of the walkers closest to them were picked off by Joel's suppressed rifle, the sound of the gunshot quieter to avoid drawing anymore in, and he continued to pick stragglers off whilst the others dealt with the main group. Lee raised his axe high, watching a decaying corpse of a woman shambling towards him, her once blond hair all but fallen out, revealing a chunk of her head missing exposing the skull. She growled harshly, desperate for food, and her sounds quickly died out when Lee's axe embedded itself in the front of her skull, the blade piercing through the forehead and destroying the brain.

Pulling it out, he allowed the body to fall to the ground with a muffled thud, the snow stained a disgusting brownish red colour from the congealed blood. The others around him were faring just as well, Omid stopping a walker from getting too close to Lee by hitting it in the neck with his axe, causing it to fall over. Still not dead however, it weakly tried to get up, and was stopped when Lee threw his axe into its head with the strength he could muster. Blood and brain matter oozed out of the hole in its head, and he winced in disgust as more of its group descended down on them.

Nick and Lilly were standing close to each other, making sure that they had the others back, and the walkers were slowly reduced to corpses littering the ground, the smell proving too much for Nick as he finally vomited, the others moving towards him to make sure he was alright. By his side, Omid asked him. "You alright, man?"

"Yeah, yeah, it's just…. You never get used to that smell." He explained, staring down at the range of bodies on the snow-covered forest floor. "We better get these moved. Don't want anyone tripping over them."

"Joel," Lilly continued, turning towards the guard with a faint smile. "Thank you for helping us."

"What gentlemen would I be if I let a pretty lady get eaten?" he snarked in a deadpan voice, rubbing the back of his neck as he added. "Anyway, I hope Carver doesn't realise…"

"What, that he's an asshole?" Nick snapped, bitter towards their leader. Joel let out a short laugh to that, before composing himself again and returned to his spot leaning against the wall, watching as Lee and the others went on to pull the bodies to the pile. Whilst dragging one of the ones that he killed, he stared down at the frozen face, wondering if any were once people who lived here, or if anyone knew them. The walkers could have come from towns and cities along the highway, and wandered down here. He couldn't help but think of the lives they had before all this started, and he realised just how easy it was to forget that they were once humans themselves. Living, breathing, and could once feel.

Remembering Macon, all those corpses on the streets, and he couldn't stop the pictures of his brother's body trapped under a fallen lamppost, his neck torn open from the blows he gave him with the axe he found. His parents could still have been walking around those streets whilst he was standing there, staring at the dead body, and he hoped that it was the opposite. He hoped that they were resting in peace, just like Bud.

"Lee… are you okay?" a soft voice called out, causing him to snap out of his thoughts and notice that whilst he was thinking, he was just standing there staring at the body. Turning his head, he saw Lilly standing there, a worried expression on her face.

"I was just thinking of Macon." He admitted, continuing to drag the body. "Just looking at these bodies. It makes me wonder if my parents are still there, wandering the streets."

"Your parents were in Macon? Well, did you see them during your runs with Kenny?" she asked, hopeful that at least someone from Lee's past could still be alive.

Lee didn't reply. Instead, he grunted as he lifted the body, throwing it on the pile before moving to grab the next one. Slowly, he confessed. "The drug store we held up in those first few days, you remember it?"

"Yeah… what about it?" Lilly asked, her voice slow as she started to distrust where the conversation was going. He could tell that she was piecing the bits together, Lilly was not stupid, and he decided to give her the final piece to make her see.

"It was my parent's drug store. The bodies your dad hauled out, that was them." That was when Lilly's face fell, and her eyes casted downwards as Lee finished his sentence. It still pained him to remember them, they didn't depart on the best of terms, and that would always be one of his biggest regrets.

After a long pause, he listened as she apologized. "I didn't know. I mean, I could guess it bothered you when I told you back then, but I took your word for it. I just thought they were close friends to you. I'm sorry, Lee."

"Well, they're gone. I wish things were different, but at least I know they aren't suffering. The same can be said for Larry." He watched as she sadly nodded, adding with a soft tone. "He was an asshole, but I know that he loved you more than anything else."

"Yeah, I know." With that, she walked away from him, grabbing another corpse and carrying on with dragging them. His friends working around him, Lee glanced through the thick foliage and trees, trying to think of a way to help them do their jobs without walkers appearing every five minutes because of the noise. That's when it hit him. Noise. Walkers couldn't see very well, so they had to rely on their sense of smell and hearing.

His mind was focused on that piece of information, and he knew that once he was back in the Pen tonight, he would relay what he thought of back to the group, hopefully they would be able to build it up. Until then, he continued with his work, cutting the trees into smaller parts, and went on to begin removing the stumps when the trees from that area were all ready for use. By the time the sun was setting once more, the group was exhausted, Lee feeling like he could lie down and sleep through the rest of the winter. The sky grew cloudy over the day, and fresh snow was falling down in small balls of whiteness, covering the footsteps and the blood splatters from their work as if they were never there, and the temperature dropped significantly.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Lee shivered as they walked down the trail to the main entrance, glancing around at the guards that were keeping watch on the gates, their eyes trained on the group. Staring straight ahead again, he ignored how the mall loomed over them, an imposing air about it that he didn't know before, and he could have sworn that he saw someone looking down at them from the first floor windows. Looking up, he saw no one. None of his group made a comment on it, instead walking through the snow as they tried to stop the cold from biting at them, Nick faring the worst as his thin sleeves offered little protection from the frost.

Finally, they entered the main building, everyone visibly relieved to be out of the cold, but Lee didn't give any thought to it when he spotted Beth making a beeline straight for them. Staring at her, he said nothing as she stared at Omid, a sweet smile on her face as she cheerfully explained. "Christa asked me to give this to you."

Handing out a note, Joel immediately snapped at her whilst Omid took it, looking over what it said as he chided her. "You know it's gonna look wrong to the others if we're passing notes to this group, what are you thinking?!"

"It's a note from a pregnant lady to her boyfriend, it;'s hardly gonna be a detailed escape plan with map included." Beth brushed off, an annoyed look on her face as she carried on. "Jesus Christ, Joel, where's your sympathy?"

"It went when they stole medicine. Did you forget Kaiya needs that medicine, and every other goddamn person in our community because winter is here?! So don't give me that bullshit about sympathy when these guys never gave any for the people they were stealing from!" The sudden ferocity in his voice caught the others off guard, and Lee saw Nick growing angry with the accusations.

"You think we didn't care about the people when we stole those drugs?! We were trying to get away because that fucker in his office upstairs is responsible for my mom, Uncle Pete and all my friends' deaths!" he accused, not caring as more people gathered around when they heard the yelling. Lee looked around, knowing that something was going to go down if he didn't intervene and calm his friend down, and moved as Joel started to close the distance between him and Nick.

"So what, you act like that because you lost your family? I can give you at least twenty other people who have gone through the same thing, and they don't steal shit that others need!" he snapped, jabbing Nick in the chest as he added. "Maybe it's time you grow the fuck up, Nick, 'cause the world isn't gonna give a damn whether you're struggling or not!"

"Fuck you!" With that, Nick threw a punch at the guard, and at the same time Lee ran forward to stop it. Joel moved backwards quickly to avoid the blow, and instead the fist connected Lee's mouth, the force behind it snapping his head backwards as he stumbled backwards. His lip split from the blow, the feeling of blood flowing down his lips and dripping off his chin, some slipping into his mouth as he yelled, the horrible tang of copper on his tongue making him want to spit it out.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Nick!" Beth yelled, immediately by Lee's side as Lilly pulled Nick back, getting in between him and Joel to prevent any fighting, the former shocked from what he did. Checking his face, he could clearly see her lips pulled into a deep frown, her eyes narrowed at the sight as she looked behind her, her voice sharp as she snapped at him. "You fucking gave him a split lip!"

"Shit, man, I'm sorry!" Nick apologized, trying to get to Lee but was prevented by Lilly, who kept him back with a stern look.

"You've done enough." Turning to Beth and Lee, she quietly asked her. "Does he need to go see Jack?"

"No, it's just a small cut. Here." Pulling a rag from her pocket, she dabbed the cut, adding when she saw his wary look. "Don't worry, I grabbed this from my dresser in case I cut myself on the broken bucket handle again. It's clean."

Nodding, he allowed her to finish up cleaning his face, watching as she backed away with the rag stained in blood. With that, she turned to Joel and Nick, and tried to calm the situation down with the injured party taken cared of. "We can't change what we've done, guys, but I know that beating seven bells out of each other is not gonna help things around here. We're in a dilemma with medicine, so maybe it wasn't intelligent to steal it, but we gotta know that these people are just scared, like the rest of us."

A sigh followed her lecture, and she just shook her head with a defeated order. "Just get them to the Pen, Joel. Dinner's almost ready."

"Fine." He grumbled, gesturing for the group to continue walking. Lee followed after them, sparing a glance at Beth whilst he was walking away, seeing her standing there with a frustrated look on her face, before Frank walked up behind her and, with an arm around her shoulders, guided her away to go and get dinner. Looking back ahead, Lee watched as the shutters into the Pen came into view, guards standing in front of it with bored expression, obviously wanting to be anywhere but there.

Spotting the group coming towards them, their expressions changed, and they glared darkly at them whilst Joel paused, waiting as one of them moved to the shutters, opening it up silently and kept it up as he nodded for the group to enter. Slowly, they did one by one, none of them even looking at the guard as they trudged inside, except for Lee. Staring him down, he watched as Joel's fierce resolve faltered slightly as he saw the injuries on his face, a little trickle of blood dripping down. After a moment, he just sighed. "Come on, Lee. Don't make this any harder than it is."

Without a word, Lee obeyed, and walked into the Pen whilst Joel closed it again, the sound of him locking it echoing through the open space. Breathing in, Lee closed his eyes, letting go of his breath, and yet it did nothing to calm his twisting stomach. He was starving. Everyone was. Staring up at the reinforced fence, he wondered if there was any chance of scaling it and just running, before he spotted the barbed wire at the top, the small spikes warding off any attempts. Ignoring it, his gaze shifted over when he heard laughing, spotting Ellie and Walter reading by the campfire whilst Luke sat back in his chair, an arm draped over his abdomen as he listened with a smile.

He didn't know what book they were reading, but it seemed to have everyone in good spirits. Omid sat down beside Ellie, joining in when they read the lines in silly voices, and it caused Nick and Luke to laugh loudly whilst Lilly smiled, a short chuckle coming from her. Standing there, he couldn't help but smile warmly at the group getting on with each other, until he noticed someone was missing from the group. His eyes scanned the area, and he spotted Kristina lounging on one of the shelves, staring at something in her hands that was blocked from his view. Glancing at the group one more time, he walked slowly over to the lonely woman.

She didn't notice him even when he reached her side, instead staring at what was a box with a note attached to it. Confused, he stood there as she finally addressed his presence. "This was found on Dwight's body. One of the guards, she… she found it on him and gave it to me, seeing no point in Carver taking it."

Turning it around in her hand, she lifted the note and began to read it. "Kristina, cara mia, ti amo più di ogni altra cosa al mondo, mi vuoi sposarmi?"

"Wow, what does it mean?" he asked, not understanding the language.

"'Will you marry me?'" She explained, her shoulders slumped and her eyes almost unfocused, almost like she was staring a long distance into the piece of paper. Her lips pressed together in a thin line, her breathing deep as she tried to calm herself down, before letting go of the note as she sighed deeply. "Dwight didn't know Italian before he met me, but he wanted to learn. Made it easier to talk to my father, he said. I guess… he finally wanted to be together properly when we escaped. Oh, Dwight."

She brought the box to her lips, giving it a short kiss as she whispered into it. "Riposa in pace, mi amore."

Lee felt pity for the young woman, placing his hand on her shoulder and offering her a weak smile when she looked up at him, unsure on what else to say to comfort her. Glancing down at the box again, she moved a stray hair from the front of her face, keeping it behind her ear, and he knew that he had to help her think of something else, at least for now to keep her from getting too down.

"I take it your family came from Italy?" he asked, wanting to bring her thoughts from her boyfriend. "Did you grow up there?"

"No, my father came to America in the 50s. He met my mother there, and he had me along with my two brothers." She explained, a soft smile on her face as she gazed into the distance. "I only visited Italy to see my grandparents and family. Once, I brought Dwight with me, and my grandmother had him in her clutches for the whole trip. We even had to sleep in different beds."

She laughed at Lee's confused expression. "Come on, Lee. You gotta know how religious Italian families are. Grandmother wanted us to tie the knot before we did anything. I guess she'd have a heart attack if she saw us whilst we were here."

"That's too much information, but she sounds just like my grandmother." Lee reminisced, chuckling deeply as he explained further. "She was a big woman, and very religious herself. Her and my wife never saw eye to eye."

"You were married?" Kristina asked, curious about his past. "Was it nice?"

"Yeah, it was, but we haven't talked for a while, even before all this start. I don't know if she's even still alive." He felt sadness at the thought, wondering where his wife was.

Kristina watched him with a sympathetic look, before her head turned to the sudden sound of the shutters opening, Lee following her movement as he saw Gabriel coming through with a trolley, Joel and another two guards coming in with their guns ready. Slowly, he stood up, seeing if Kristina needed help with obvious discomfort on her face. Raising her hand to stop him, he backed away instead, walking over with the rest of the group to get their dinner, his stomach growling in want. Reaching the trolley, they all waited in silence as Gabriel grabbed the plates that were sitting on top, passing them out to everyone with a grim look on his face, obviously not wanting to be there anymore than they did.

Nick grabbed the first plate and quickly began to demolish the food on it, the others taking theirs whilst Lee just stood there, finally grabbing his own as he stared down at the food. It wasn't much, just a piece of bread and a cup of water that was given to wash it down. His stomach growled louder in response, not caring what it was as long as it stopped the painful twisting in his gut. Picking up the bread, he bit into it, wincing as it felt as hard as rocks.

"I'm sorry about this, guys." Gabriel apologized, glancing down at his trolley as he added. "There wasn't much else to give you tonight."

"Don't apologize to them, Gabe." One of the guards ordered, glaring at the group as she snapped. "They deserve what they get."

The other guard seemed to not think the same way as his companion, sharing a look with Joel, the latter just ignoring it and waited for Gabriel to finish his round. No one answered the accusation. Instead, Lee just continued to eat, trying his best to stop his blood from boiling at the harsh words. His eyes shifted to the rest of his group; spotting Ellie staring down at the floor, her hand crunching the plastic cup that was empty, and he knew that she was ready to explode. Gabriel saw this as well, taking the cup away from her, and gestured for everyone else to do so. Quickly, they did and he exited the Pen, eager to escape the tense situation with the guards following after him.

Standing there, Joel just gave them a look before closing the shutters once more. Left alone, the group decided to get ready for the night; Nick rubbing the back of his head as he yawned, with Luke beside him whispering words that Lee couldn't make out, whilst Walter glanced at Ellie sympathetically, before he too retired for the night, bidding goodnight to Lilly and Omid as they were already in their beds. Kristina stood by Ellie, moving to place a hand on her shoulder only for it to be shook off violently, the younger of the two just staring at the former guard with a defeated look. Shaking her head, Ellie walked away to go to bed, leaving Kristina standing there as she addressed Lee. "She's losing it, Lee. After Alex dying, and everyone turning against us, I don't think it's gonna end well."

"I know, but what can we do to help her? We aren't in the best position ourselves." He pointed out, feeling helpless to do anything for his friends.

Folding her arms, Kristina thought for a moment before humming. "I don't know. For now, we better get some sleep. See you in the morning."

Watching her go back to her bed, Lee frowned deeply, his voice quiet as he replied. "Night, Kristina."

[renaroo]

Brothers in Arms

Disclaimer: Voltron: Legendary Defender and related characters © Dreamworks Warnings: Canon-typical violence Rating: T Prompt: ( @theeffar ) Can I request some Keith and Pidge gen fic? About anything really. They're just never the main characters for anything! I NEED BONDING

A/N: It’s been forever since you requested this, my dear, but it’s only because you know me well and know what a blast I would have writing this particular team up! I hope you enjoy it and hope you don’t mind that I stole your well crafted joke from the fanart you drew a while back ; )

"Voltron’s breaking apart!”

“How’re they able to make that happen--”

“Hold steady! Even if they take us apart, stay in alignment!” 

“Guys, my lion’s shutting off--”

“Hunk, drift toward Lance--”

“Shiro, bring Voltron toward the castle!”

“Everyone hold on--”

“The momentum’s too strong, too--”

"Keith?”

The voice was static-filled, but definable enough. By the time Keith opened his eyes, he was already aware that the voice over the communicator in his helmet was Pidge. 

“If you can hear me, I need you to wake up and tell me what you see, because you’re the only frequency that I can get a hold of right now and I’m kind of tired of talking to myself.” She hesitated before continuing. “I mean, it’s entirely possible for me to do it. I can keep it up if need be. I have a lot of thoughts and all. Wouldn’t be the first time I talked myself through a few problems. I’d just rather have someone to talk to rather than myself. And if you’re alive that’d be assuring, too, and all.”

Aching all over, Keith rolled his head slowly and realized he had been unconscious in his seat in his lion. The power was off, but his head was throbbing enough that it was probably a good thing that he didn’t have a thousand dashboard lights flashing in his face.

“Maybe if I somehow amplify my own frequency and set up the lion at a different point with a known frequency line, I can use the three to triangulate Keith’s location--”

“I think you want someone to talk at more than to,” Keith groaned as he pulled himself out of his seat. 

“Keith! You’re alive! Great, that’s one less thing to worry about,” Pidge said, relief filling her every word. 

“You don’t disagree,” Keith mused, walking his way out of the lion’s cockpit. 

“I’m grasping onto the positives for dear life,” Pidge confirmed. 

“You heard from anyone else?” Keith asked, stepping out of the lion and immediately sinking to his knees in mushy swamp. Reflexively, he reached up and set his helmet to a full mask, filtering the air. 

“We’re the only ones who landed in this direction, and considering the thickness of the atmosphere, there’s a possibility that our communications are limited,” Pidge explained. 

Looking up, Keith scratched at his helmet. “I’m seeing a lot of canopy. How do you know that the atmosphere’s thick?”

“I observed it while we were tumbling through it,” Pidge said casually. “When I think we’re all about to die, I’ve found it’s easier to make observations of our surroundings rather than focus on approaching death.”

“Neat trick,” Keith mused, continuing to walk forward. “Listen, Pidge, the Red Lion is completely powered off, so I’m going to have to meet you on foot.”

“Same with the Green Lion,” Pidge replied. “Of course, if something was able to pull Voltron apart... Well I hope it’s better than it looks.”

Keith shook his head slightly. “Is it ever better than it looks for us?” he asked as he started pressing forward through the sludge and slime. “I’m still waiting on that description of your surroundings, Pidge.”

“Right,” Pidge answered. “Well. There’s a lot of swamp and--” there was the sound of a splash. “Ew. It’s, like, up to my waist.”

Unable to help the smirk, Keith produced the sword from his bayard and began slashing through the thicker undergrowth. “Fortunately, for me, that’s only to my knees.”

“Hardy har har,” Pidge replied, sloshing forward. “I must be somewhere deeper in the marshes than you are.”

“Sure,” Keith joked before grunting as he slashed through more plants. “How thick are the thickets where you are?”

“Um, there aren’t any,” Pidge replied. “See, I’m in a different place than you are. I’m approaching some trees so I think I’m going to climb and try to get a vantage point. We might be in different areas, but if I’m right about our trajectories, we’re within a reasonable distance of each other--”

As he hacked and slashed forward, Keith saw the glow of eyes in the distance -- artificial, like flashlights. And behind them were the makings of facemask that matched the designs and colors of the beast that had taken apart Voltron. 

“You do that, Pidge,” Keith ordered before the creature turned and raced off. “I’ve just caught sight of someone who has something to do with that monster we were fighting. I’m going after them.”

Trying to run, Keith jerked forward, only to find his pace set to below a crawl, the marshy waters of the swamp working against him.

“What? Wait! Keith, don’t you think we should find each other and the others first--”

Letting out a yell, Keith turned on his suit’s boosters and leaped out of the sludge, using the trees to kick off of as he continued the pursuit and worked to avoid losing the trail of the creature completely. 

“Wait! Keith! Keith! I need you to stay where you are if I’m going to find you!” Pidge tried yelling into the radio only to receive nothing on the other end. With aggravation, she hung her head and shook it. “Ugh. Great. Now we have to deal with Keith being Keith, too. Just what I need in the middle of a disaster.”

She glanced down to her legs and shifted a few times, raising her legs up out of the goopy swamp water as much as she could before getting aggravated with the friction. 

“Ew, this place is just rank,” she declared before looking over to the Green Lion. 

Without being powered on, the Lion stared forward, not so different from the way Pidge had first found the robot what seemed like ages ago. 

“You go ahead and rest up, girl,” Pidge offered, as if they had a choice. “I’ll try and figure out what’s up with Keith in the meantime.” She then glanced back to the mucky swamp and struggled to free her legs. “If... only... I... could... get... moving first.... Agh!” 

Pulling to much against the swamp, Pidge sent herself flying back, landing on her back in the swamp. She stared up at the canopy above dully in aggravation just before noticing that, however slowly, she was beginning to sink into the yucky, gummy swamps. 

“Oh no,” she muttered just as the viscous liquid began to cover over her helmet’s visor. She struggled, making herself sink faster just before dipping under the surface and hitting the muddy ground beneath. 

Even with her helmet on, Pidge could only see a few feet in any direction thanks to the murkiness of the swamp. 

Annoyed, she kicked off from the bottom and broke free to the surface again, covered in sticky swamp goop but free from the knees up at least. 

“I’m really not a fan of this place,” she said, raising her arms and shoulders up in a vain attempt to let some of the sludge drip off of her. “I think it might be out to get me.” 

With a deep breath, Pidge shook herself from head to toe -- or at least as she could manage with half her legs still submerged. 

“Okay, Pidge, think,” she said to herself, putting a finger to her chin and tapping steadily. “You have to move fast to catch up with whatever Keith’s doing. And you’re in a swamp that doesn’t know the meaning of the word fast. So what’s the solution here?”

About at that moment, Pidge noticed a creature -- brightly colored in stark contrast to the surrounding swamps. She blinked at the lizard-like thing with its multiple legs and watched as it climbed around on the tree nearest Pidge. Using some of its multiple legs, the creature began pulling twigs from the low hanging branches and tossing them into the swamp where they landed with a plop and stayed in place. 

“Huh?” Pidge wondered out loud, watching the creature more curiously. 

The lizard-like creature seemed to watch the line made by the sticks floating in the goopy swamp, measuring them up before finally leaping from the tree to the sticks and running across them to the next tree. 

Pidge watched for a moment before feeling an epiphany take over. “Ah, I get it!” she said before pulling out her bayard and taking aim for the nearest tree. She lined up her shot, squinting just slightly, before firing it off for the nearest tree branch. 

The angular katar flew across the distance before wrapping snuggly around the limb. Pidge tugged a few times before feeling confident in the line. 

“Alright,” she said, securing her grip and adjusting her own angle despite the sludge of the swamp tugging against the motion. “Looks good, and,” she said before pulling with all her might. 

The first yank got her nothing but resistance. She glared at the limb then tried another time, pulling with all her might, gritting her teeth. After a few increasingly more erratic tugs, Pidge took a break to lower head and breathe deep. 

Then she took notice of the lizard staring at her from the other tree. 

“Hey, don’t judge me! It’s your idea,” she told the creature before yanking the branch a last time and pulling it free of the tree with a resounding crack. The blackened bark splintered and fell with a resounding SPLOOSH into the swamp before ultimately floating. 

Excited, Pidge threw up her arms as the bayard recoiled to its handle. “Whoo!” she called out. 

With the branch close enough, Pidge scuttled her way to it then grabbed onto the wood in order to hoist herself up. While the sludgy waters resisted her leaving, they weren’t given much choice in the matter and Pidge sat atop the branch with a sigh of relief for a moment. 

“You know, as hard as that was, I probably still shouldn’t have been able to pull such a big branch loose,” she said, looking toward the source of the break. “It’s almost like the wood is weak here. Unhealthy.”

The lizard stuck its tongue out.

Standing up, Pidge tried to swipe the sludge clinging to her waist and legs off. “Yeah, yeah, I hear ya. Gotta find Keith first. Hopefully.” She turned on her boosters and leaped from the branch to the next log. “Good thing I spent all that time in Hunk’s room playing Frogger!”

Keith leaped to each launching point with his teeth gritted and his bayard at the ready. The creature was moving fast, but Keith had no intention of letting it out of his sight. 

“Come on,” he gritted out, swiping with his bayard the closer he got. The creature narrowly avoided the swipe. “I know you’re linked to that thing that attacked us! Stay still because I’m not going to let you run!” 

The more he gritted out, the more the creature seemed determined to bob and weave out of his grasp. It was making Keith’s swiping more erratic and taking his concentration more and more off of the firmness of his landing. 

“Come on!” he growled out with another swipe just before landing on a moss covered log that was not secure. 

Keith’s eyes widened as he felt the lack of traction beneath his feet. “Oh no,” he managed to get out, but not before he instinctively tried to stomp down his other foot for leverage on the same unfirm point of contact. 

Both feet slipping, Keith tumbled forward toward the ground with a loud help, the entire thing only made faster by the fact that he had his boosters still on. 

One moment he was falling, the next he was face first sinking into the swamp, unable to see more than a foot in front of his face. 

After taking a moment to gather his bearings, Keith thrust himself out of the sludgy water head first and shook off what slime remained on him. 

With an exaggerated sweeping motion, Keith thrust his bayard around him in the meaningless hope that his pursuit was still close enough to be affected by the swings. Though, of course, it was far from the case, and instead Keith was left panting and looking around with nothing to show for his efforts. 

“Wow, that was something.”

Keith spun around as much as he could in the swamp to look for the origin of the voice, but when he did he didn’t see anything at eye level.

“Up here,” the voice beckoned. 

Looking up into the trees, Keith could see that the armored creature he had been chasing was balanced on the limb of a tree, looking down at him through a mask with three glowing red optics where assumedly eyes should be.

“What’s your connection with that thing that took down Voltron!?” Keith demanded, struggling to pull the rest of himself out of the swamp and fumbling the entire time. “Tell me!”

“My connection,” the creature said cryptically, “is everything.”

Then, the creature leaped down from the branch, falling in a way that somehow seemed to slow as their extended leg reached toward the surface of the swamp. The waters stirred as the tip of the foot’s claws touched the water, but as soon as it touched, the creature took off, running on top of the swamp water with exceptional speed, never sinking beneath the depths. 

Still stuck in the muck himself, Keith slammed his fist down against the surface of the murky waters. “How the hell’s that fair?” he demanded in a growl.

“Keith!” 

Surprised, Keith turned and saw none other than Pidge leaping from one bit of foliage to another and the occasional use of floating debris, intermediately utilizing her bayard as a grappling hook whenever need be. 

She finally landed nearby, breathless but excited seemingly to be reunited. “There you are! I’ve been trailing you since we broke communication. Which, for the record, is not smart given the situation.”

Rising out of the swamp, Keith wavered unevenly on his feet. “Pidge,” he said plainly. 

“Keith,” she replied in turn.

“That thing I was chasing -- it had something to do with the monster that tore apart Voltron,” he explained to her, using his own bayard to tear through the plant life in the direction the creature had disappeared in.

“What? Seriously?” Pidge asked, leaping to the next tree. “You’re sure?”

“Pretty sure,” Keith answered. “It said its connection was everything. How do you take that?”

“Sounds profound,” Pidge responded. “Guess we’ll have to get clarification.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Keith smirked just before watching Pidge leap to another bit of debris. “What... What are you doing?”

“Staying out of the sludge, taking a note from the locals,” Pidge explained. “Helps sometimes to take a hint from your surroundings.”

“Yeah,” Keith said, jumping to grab a hanging limb of the nearest tree. He then turned on his boosters. “Pidge, follow my lead, I think I have a quicker way of getting around here.”

“You do?” she asked just before he released his grip on the limb.

Without waiting for his feet to meet the top of the thick swamp, Keith started running mid-air. With the aid of his booster jetpack, and maintaining a high speed, there was just enough surface tension for him to maintain a solid run. 

Just like the creature, Keith was running on water.

“Yeah, no thanks! I’ll catch up with you when you lose traction,” Pidge called after him.

"I’m starting to remember why I always didn’t bother with jocks before,” Pidge grunted to herself, slinging herself from landing spot to landing spot. 

Keith was completely out of her line of sight, but the path he was making hacking and slashing through the environment was simple enough to follow. It didn’t take a considerable amount of genius to follow through with his hotheadedness, after all.

Though his words did leave some intrigue for her to ponder along the way. 

“Connection is... everything...” she repeated thoughtfully. 

Jumping to a solid stump, Pidge stopped and got to her feet, putting a hand to her chin as she balanced back and forth on her feet. “That’s a very particular phrase to just be throwing around for no reason. Really makes me think that there’s something... larger at play there... just what could it be, though? I doubt Keith came up with something so cryptic... I mean. It’s Keith. Which means he heard it... and what would that have to do with the thing that took us on as Voltron... man that fight wasn’t-- Wait. Connection is everything.” Pidge’s eyes widened as she snapped her fingers. “Voltron. That can’t be a coincidence. And it can’t be a coincidence that Keith and I are so close where we can’t find everyone else-- that means I need to catch up with him. Ugh.”

She hit her palms against the sides of her helmet and shook her head. “I need to get Keith to cooperate with a theory. Which is like an unstoppable force meeting and unmovable object. Ugh. Guide me, Einstein, Tesla, and Curie. I need perseverance. Like badly.”

There was a rustle of leaves around her that drew Pidge’s attention from her queries.

Alarmed, she lifted her bayard and got into a defensive position before looking around worriedly. She glared at all the area around her, the foliage rustled and moved like there was a breeze -- but there wasn’t one. 

Suddenly, glowing eyes peered out at her from the swampy darkness. 

“A connection takes more than one moving part,” a curiously amused voice said when suddenly, designs began joining the glowing eyes, showing off the very unique designs that had been on the attacker they encountered as Voltron.

Pidge straightened up in alarm. “Is this what Keith was talking about!? Uh... That means you’re probably not friendly. Wait, then why didn’t you attack -- how’re you standing in this swamp? Uh--”

The creature held up a weapon that looked remarkably like Keith’s blade. 

“Nevermind. I guess there’s always time to attack people if you really work for it,” Pidge laughed nervously, holding up her hands. “But... I mean, come on, this isn’t really a way to get whatever your point is across to us.”

“It is,” the creature assured her.

"Again with being cryptic...” Pidge began to mutter just before the creature dove forward toward her. She released a yelp of surprise before leaping out of the way and readying her bayard, shooting the grappling hook out and toward the attacker.

The green bayard was deflected by the creature’s sword but in doing so, the creature allowed Pidge to wrap her bayard around the blade. 

Smirking, Pidge let out a growl and yanked as tightly as possible on the bayard to pull the creature forward. 

It worked... at first. But soon the creature regained control and yanked back.

“Uh oh,” Pidge managed to get out just before being pulled forward into the sludge of the swamps. She could feel the viscous waters around her and knew she was going to be even more stuck than before.

A problem that only got worse when her feet touched the ground and she realized only the top of her helmet grazed the surface of the waters. 

“Oh, no,” Pidge muttered to herself, waving around her arms sluggishly in the waters, reaching out for anything. Which, unfortunately, ended with her hand wrapping around an ankle right above her. “Crap.”

The creatures clawed hands wrapped around Pidge’s wrist and yanked her out of the swamp with ease. Its blade was right at Pidge’s neck before she could even think to act in retaliation. 

“A grip is only as strong as its hand,” the creature said hauntingly before beginning to hold back the blade for a jab. “The hold of the hilt is best in both hands.”

Pidge gasped, eyes wide. This was not how she expected her adventures with Voltron to come to an end.

Keith couldn’t believe that the creature had lost him. And not only had it lost him, but it had lost him again despite his best efforts. With a roar, he ripped through more of the vegetation of the swamps, allowing his balance to waver and send him from his high speed racing across the swamplands to stumbling face forward into the murky lagoon. 

At least his helmet was keeping him from getting any of the disgusting waters against his skin. 

Annoyed with life, he allowed himself to sink slightly into the swamps before pushing back up and emerging with a long growl. 

“I’m getting really tired of this!” he shouted into the nothing around him. 

There was a flutter of noise from the swamp around him, but there was little response outside of it. As was his go to, Keith took it as fate’s mockery. 

“Damn it,” he groaned, sinking back some into the swamp’s waters, beginning to lose his steam. But he didn’t sink far before there was a hideous and familiar scream -- absolute terror encapsulated in voice alone. 

Keith knew that voice and it sent a tremor throughout him. His eyes widened and he straightened up. “Pidge!?” he cried out, only to get more of the scream. “Hold on! Pidge! Hold on! I’m coming!” 

Swirling back and forth, Keith concentrated on where the screams were originating from and then kicked up with his boosters on again. 

Like a madman, he raced toward his teammate’s cries for help. He hacked and slashed at all that was in his way, raging forward with the heat and anger of the Red Lion itself. 

By the time he reached the clearing, he knew what was causing Pidge to cry out as she was. The creature -- bizarre and inhuman as it were, held her up, its own blade dripping with blood, mixing it with the brown, sludgy swamp water as Pidge’s left should bled, cut deep.

“Let go of her!” Keith snarled as he dove forward, blade first. 

The creature did not seem surprised, nor did it let go of Pidge, holding her higher up by her collar -- holding her away from Keith like a plaything -- while blocking Keith’s strike with its own blade. 

“A helping hand goes a long way,” the creature said, defending itself from strike after strike Keith threw at it with little to no pause. 

“Shut up!” Keith growled, continuing to hack and slash, losing form faster and faster with each strike. 

“Strength is found in cooperation with the left,” the creature continued before changing its footing and slashing Keith’s unguarded right shoulder, “and the right.”

Searing pain ripped through his shoulder nearly as quickly as the blade itself, and Keith went tumbling into a nearby tree. His free hand immediately reached up for his arm and he could help but shake at the surprise of the attack.

“I get it,” Pidge mumbled just loud enough of Keith to hear before she grabbed the wrist of the hand holding her and then swung out with her own bayard -- wrapping it around the sword of their attacker. “Keith! Keith snap out of it and hurry! We have to work together!” 

Keith looked up, confused, and saw the opening Pidge was referring to. 

“We’re both the hands!” she shouted out. 

“Stronger together, all of it’s connected,” Keith repeated before blasting forward with a kick off from the tree. He let out a resounding yell, ignoring the pain of his arm as he swung out viciously and struck the creature that had been tormenting them. 

When the creature was properly struck, the marking which had lit up its body and mask flickered out. There was a strangely respectful gaze it turned on them instead before letting Pidge down into the swamp with a slight thud. 

Warily, Keith removed his bayard and watched as the creature bowed low and slowly backed away from them both. 

“The lesson has been learned,” it said lowly before disappearing. 

Keith and Pidge stood together for a moment before Pidge slung slime off her shoulders. “Well, on the list of things we could have learned easier from a greeting card,” she mumbled sourly. 

“Pidge,” Keith sighed, “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you in... any of that. I should have.”

“Duh,” Pidge countered. When she looked back to him, though, there was a soft smile on her lips. “But I guess I can forgive it. Thanks for saving me.”

Keith rubbed at his neck. “So, about that plan -- triangulating us and the lions to find the others.”

Pidge grinned back and pulled out a communicator. “Sounds like quite the plan to me, Red Lion!”

[nandireya]

Stranded

It’s officially Valentines Day here in the merry old land of Oz, so, you now what that means…it begins!

______________________________________________________________________

Kullara Week 2017

Day One Stranded

“I’m just saying,” Lance said, a slight whine to his voice. “Why does Keith get to go?”

“Because it’s a diplomatic mission and your flirting with everything that looks even remotely female could lead to an interstellar incident?” Pidge suggested.

“Well…okay…granted…” He conceded. “But, still…”

“Because he’s kind of our leader now and it’ll be a good opportunity for him to work on his people skills?” Hunk added.

“What people skills?” Lance scoffed.

The object of their discussion entered the hanger, shouldering a large bag, in full paladin armour, sans helmet, which was tucked under his free arm.

Full, RED, paladin armour.

Lance shot the other two a narrowed, sideways glance. “If he’s our leader why is he still wearing red?” He hissed.

“Because he’s no more ready to give up on Shiro than you are.” Keith said flatly.

“Curse you and your Galra hearing!” Lance snapped, shaking his fist in mock indignation.

Keith shot him an angry glare as he stepped past him to stow his gear in the belly of the long-range pod.

Allura entered then, defusing any argument that might have started between the pair. She was dressed in her flight suit and carrying a small bag.

Lance leaned over. “Looks like someone overpacked.” He teased, before bounding across the deck. “Let me help you with your luggage, Princess.” He offered.

“Why thank you, Lance.” Coran responded, following in her wake, burdened with several large bags and a trunk.

“Why do you need so much stuff?” Lance boggled as Coran began to transfer the numerous items of luggage not noticing the way his legs began to buckle under the weight. “You said it was only for a couple of quintents!”

“Well…” Allura began to count on her fingers. “…there’s the receiving reception on our arrival. The formal dinner…the ball in our honour…”

“You’re going to a PARTY!?” Lance gaped.

“This is no party, young paladin.” Coran shook his head. “The Natsua are a highly sophisticated and extremely particular society. Everything they do is very precise and beautifully executed. The Princess needs a different, formal ensemble for each event planned.”

“Seriously?” Lance quirked a brow. He sidled up to Keith as gracefully as his over-burdened arms would allow. “So what are you wearing?”

“We have a dress uniform.” Keith informed him, taking the first of Allura’s numerous items of luggage from the pile to stow with his own.

“We do?” Lance’s eyes widened. He switched direction, leaning over towards Allura.

“I so need to see a picture of him in that.” He whispered.

Allura covered her mouth to stifle a giggle.

“I’ll see what I can do,”

~~~~~~

Allura had started giving him a briefing on the Natsua as soon as they’d left the castle. They were a highly traditional, extremely reclusive people. That was why they were coming as a small envoy, in a pod, rather than a heavily armed battleship. The fact that they had invited them to broker an alliance was a huge honour. Or they had come to realise just what a threat Zarkon and his empire had become and were afraid to face him alone. She found it hard to refer to their enemy as ‘the Galra’ now. She had come to trust Kilovan and the Blade of Mamora to have their back. And the paladin besides her. She had come to trust him with so much more.

“They’re probably roughly Pidge’s height.” She was saying. “With similar biology to both of ours, though there skin is of a greenish hue-”

Violet eyes slid towards her.

“So…they’re little…green…men…?” He summarised.

“Basically.” She nodded, a little surprised when he let out a soft chuckle.

“The others would love that.” He smirked. “There’s this sort of stereotype back home about aliens being little green men.” He explained when he saw her frown.

A soft alarm began to chime throughout the cockpit.

“Look’s like we’re coming up on coordinates.” He said as he began to throttle back on the engines. The pod could move quite fast, though space outside hadn’t became a blur like the hyperspace travel or warp speed he remembered from popular culture.

“Welcome to Natsu, Princess.” He said in a hushed tone.

He was still awed whenever he first laid eyes on a new world. He has expected them all to be spherical, like the ones in the Solar System he’d studied since childhood. He’d never expected to see any that circled Earth’s Sun, except perhaps through a telescope, let alone visit ones he’d never known existed. And of course he still wasn’t sure how he felt about being able to call one of them home. Sort of.

Natsu was a relatively small planet of the same blue-green of Earth, though it leaned more towards the green. It was surrounded by bands of suspended rock that reminded him of the rings of Saturn, though they were more arcs, curving out in opposite directions on either side of the planet, like the graceful arms of a spinning dancer.

He was so mesmerised that he didn’t notice the approaching ship until the pod was rocked by a laser blast.

“What the hell?” He muttered, instantly on the defensive. He quickly turned the pod, a second blast flashed harmlessly across the pod’s bow.

“Why the hell are they shooting at as?” He snapped. “I thought we were invited.”

He slammed the throttle forward and the pod leapt towards the planet.

“That’s not a Natsua craft.” Allura noted as it swung about to follow them.

“I suppose that one’s not either?” Keith jerked his head towards a second craft coming in fast from starboard. He twisted the stick to avoid a blast from its weapons.

“No.” Allura confirmed as she began to strap herself in. She had a feeling it was about to become a bumpy flight.

“I knew I should have brought Red.” Keith growled. “We’ve got no weapons on this thing.” The lion would make short work of these-

Another shot grazed an engine. Now there were three of them. All very different. All with the same intent.

“They’re not trying to kill us.” He realised as he spun the pod to avoid another barrage. “They’re aiming for the engines. They’re trying to capture us.”

“They’re not Galra.” Allura noted.

“Yeah.” He agreed. “But we’ve had non-Galra willing to sell us out before.”

He was skimming the upper atmosphere now. Coming in at this kind of speed was not a good idea, but their pursuers weren’t giving them much of a choice.

“I’m sorry, Princess.” He grated. “But I may not be able to return this pod to the dealership in its original condition.”

He pushed the pod into a nosedive. He could hear the hull groaning in protest as several alarms began to blare their agreement. One hand danced over the controls as the other held fast to the throttle to hold their insane descent. The alarms were silenced, though the associated lights still glared at him. The blasts of their pursuers flashed past them. Apparently they weren’t giving up.

They broke through the cloud cover and both let out an involuntary gasp of alarm as the form of a massive tree loomed out of the mist at them. Keith quickly banked left, then right, then right again to avoid collision. He was dimly aware of an explosion off the port stern. Someone hadn’t been so lucky.

A wicked smirk lit up the paladin’s features.

“Okay, boys. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

He proceeded to lead the remaining attackers on a merry dance through the trees. The second he dispatched quite quickly when they grazed one of the enormous trees and lost an entire engine. The third however. The third was good. He matched him move for move.

Allura stared at him, her knuckles whitened as she clung on for dear life. She continually thanked the Ancients for giving her the foresight to strap herself in. She had known he was a good pilot, but she couldn’t have imagined the extent of his skill. It bordered on supernatural. She could see why the red had chosen him. He really did operate on instinct as much as skill. No wonder he was so loathe to give the lion up.

She found herself suddenly flung forward in her seat as he pulled back on the stick, bringing the pod to an almost complete stop. The pursuing craft sped past them. Keith’s eyes narrowed dangerously as he studied it. It was a fairly sleek design, close to twice their size, it had forward lasers and a rotating turret mounted on it’s underside. It had, he noted with some satisfaction, sustained a fair amount of damage already. He glanced to port and starboard as the other pilot brought the ship around. Making his decision, Keith banked to his right and slammed the throttle forward, taking off like a bullet, heading down out of the treetops and into the undergrowth.

He was skimming so close to the ground now if Allura were to focus on the blur of browns and greens that flashed by it would have made her feel a nausea of Hunk-sized proportions. So she didn’t. She did scream however when he flipped their craft onto its side to fit through a tiny gap between two giant trees. Their pursuer wasn’t so lucky. A horrible crunching noise filled the air as the belly mounted gun dug into the one of the trees, effectively wedging the entire craft between the two.

Keith let out an uncharacteristic whoop of triumphant delight. She supposed it was well deserved. It was cut short, however, when their little pod began to shudder and a metallic groan echoed throughout the cockpit. The starboard engine began to stutter and pop, thick black smoke beginning to billow from it, obscuring the trees.

“Better find a place to set down.” He muttered, bringing up a topographical scan of the surrounding area. She nodded her agreement, currently unable to steady her breath enough to speak. Favouring the failing engine he banked to port. The pod was slowing, though it had nothing to do with his piloting. The whole craft was beginning to falter. He began to flip switches, initiating the landing cycle as the trees began to thin. They came out into a small clearing, edged on one side with a cliff, a dizzying drop to a bright blue body of water below. He was just about to set it down on the rocky ground when the damaged engine gave out. The remaining engine was not enough to keep them airborne so it dropped the last few meters to the ground and all the controls went dark. There was one blinking light on the console. The automatic distress single. He doubted it would reach the Castle, but it might reach the Natsua. It would certainly reach their attackers. They couldn’t stay here.

He unbuckled his restraints and ignited his jet pack. He offered his hand to help Allura disembark, her flight-suit wasn’t equipped with a propulsion system. He landed them by the wrecked engine. It was barely even smoking now.

“Can you fix it?” She asked.

“Short answer? No.” He sighed. “I was enrolled as a pilot. We weren’t taught a lot of mechanical repairs or engineering.” He didn’t think he needed to tell her that his attitude had gotten him expelled, so even if they had those courses he hadn’t been there long enough to take them. “Hunk MIGHT be able to get it going enough to limp to the Natsua, but I don’t know if he’d even be able to pull it off.”

“So we’re stranded.” It wasn’t a question. Allura balled her fist on her hips and glared about at their surroundings.

“It certainly looks that way.” He sighed, watching as she walked over to the edge of the precipice and gave the water below an equally scathing glare. He didn’t really blame her for being angry. Things definitely weren’t going according to plan. If the Natsua were as particular as he’d been told this was not the best way to start negotiations with them.

“I wouldn’t recommend staying here, though.” He said. Logic, and training, dictated that the best course of action would be to stay with the pod, to wait there until a retrieval unit arrived. “Our new friends might be able to catch up with us.”

He brought up the computer display in his left gauntlet. Pidge had made certain that all the information pertaining to their mission had been loaded to it.

“We’re about a hundred clicks from where we’re supposed to be.” He read from it. “We can walk it in less than a day. My jet pack should get us there in half that.”

She sighed.

“I guess we better get going, then.”

He looked up as he deactivated his computer display, his eyes widening, his jaw going slack as he took in something behind her.

Allura frowned at his expression. “What are you…?” She turned to follow his gaze, her expression quickly coming to mirror his. A pair of writhing, tendril-like appendages had snaked up out if the water below, hovered for a moment, then wrapped themselves around her to drag her over the edge of the cliff.

[entergamingxp]

Hunt: Showdown review – a sweaty, stinking, cat-and-mouse masterpiece • Eurogamer.net

A rough beast indeed, Hunt: Showdown, slouching toward the daylight after a couple of years in Early Access. A peculiar chimera of genres – survival horror, battle royale, boss rush shooter, insect, demon, human being. It resembles Far Cry 2 at a glance, all flammable shades of brown, but it moves more like PUBG, shunning the clear ground, ears pricked for proximity chat. It has the vivid markings of a Monster Hunter, but those patterns are really just for show, like the eye-whites of a killer whale – masking the gunsights protruding from its abdomen. You certainly wouldn’t call it handsome, but you can’t seem to drag your gaze away. How did something so… multiple ever survive the evolutionary process? But alas, you’ve looked for too long. It knows you’re there now. No, don’t try to run! The creature’s girth is deceptive. We’ll have to see if we can bring it down.

If Hunt: Showdown’s unusual – and, as it turns out, fantastically exhilarating and engrossing – mixture of inspirations has a single guiding principle, it’s that predators become prey. It’s a game in which stepping on a twig while backstabbing a zombie can get you shot from a hundred yards off, and the ceremony of a bossfight offers zero defence against the player lobbing dynamite through a window.

In Hunt, you play patron to a “Bloodline” of bounty hunters, all seeking their fortune amid the rot of a 19th century Louisiana that has been overrun by demons. Your task, in the main bounty-hunting mode, is to find the lair of a legendary monster within one of two festering open world maps, using your sorcerous Dark Vision to chase swirling blue sparks to clues that narrow down the search area. Having slain and exorcised the abomination, you must collect a bounty and head to a map exit to complete the match. Along the way you’ll fight or avoid myriad lesser horrors – from vanilla zombies who can be treated as speed bumps, providing you don’t overlook the ones waving cleavers or torches, to chunkier threats such as the Meathead, a one-armed juggernaut that sees by way of a slithering entourage of leeches.

Hunt: Showdown

Developers: Crytek

Publisher: Crytek

Platform: PC, Xbox One, PS4 (reviewed on Xbox One)

Availability: 18th February 2020

You’ll earn both character XP and coin for slaying these minor foes, but every bullet or firebomb wasted on a demon dog (and every bandage applied to your shredded flesh after discovering that the dog has friends) is one less to pit against the boss itself. There are three of them, right now – you never know which you’re up against before starting a match, so it’s wise not to specialise too much when equipping guns and consumables. The Butcher is the soft option, for all its bulk: a porcine bully armed with a flaming hook, easily slaughtered providing you keep your distance. The knife-wielding Assassin is wilier, dissolving itself into a cloud of flies in order to course through the crevices of barns and windmills; it can even clone itself to distract you, like a lizard discarding its tail. Worst of all, though, is the Spider, a viciously nimble wall-crawler that always seems to be behind or above you, its rattling feet setting your hairs on end. Many hours after first killing one, I still feel the urge to stand on a chair while fighting it.

Thankfully, bosses never leave their lairs, so you can always hurry outside to patch yourself up, scrounge some ammo or take potshots at your quarry through a gap in the boards. Except that you can’t, actually, because the sting in Hunt’s tail is that it’s a competitive affair. There may be other players in the vicinity – as many as a dozen per match, questing in groups of up to three. Enemy players aren’t marked on the HUD or map screen to begin with, but it’s easy to give yourself away while thinning the NPC herd, and as in Turtle Rock’s sadly forgotten Evolve, each map is awash with nefarious ambient warning systems such as patches of broken glass, clattering chains and flocks of tetchy crows. The bossfights, naturally, tend to involve a lot of telltale screaming and explosions, and once you’ve killed the boss, you must banish it to obtain the bounty – a two-minute exorcism ritual that flags your position on the map, giving rivals all the time they need to close in and set up a perimeter. Bounties themselves are visible on the HUD along with their carriers, which often makes exfiltration the most arduous part of the match.

It’s a recipe, all told, for two kinds of dread. On the one hand, there’s the revulsion you feel toward creatures who used to be regular folks and animals: the women whose chests have split to reveal mosquito hives, grimacing at you sideways; the men who resemble giant, groaning lumps of decaying coral. This is a fear that abates as you play match after match, memorising AI aggro ranges and unlocking new gear and skills such as blunt impact resistance or faster crossbow reloads. Beyond the first 10 Bloodline levels, hunters and their gear are lost forever when slain but, as in they are just as swiftly replaced, with one free greenhorn recruit available on the roster screen between matches (you can also buy “Legendary” hunters with real money, but the perks are strictly cosmetic). You learn not to grow too attached, though you can always extract from a round early if you feel totally outgunned.

Which means that it’s all about the second kind of dread, the all-pervading, remorseless awareness that at any given moment, somebody could be aiming a gun at you, somewhere out there in the sweaty blur of undergrowth, reading your position and direction in birdsign, the splashing of your feet (why on earth did you take that shortcut through the swamp?) and the hungry twitching of nearby zombies. It’s a horror I can only liken to horror of an omniscient god – and it’s alleviated only by the sheer malice you feel when you hear a cough, turn slowly and spy another player galloping through a cornfield with their microphone on.

You may have felt similar emotions while playing venerable MMO shooter DayZ – Hunt’s achievement, perhaps, is to take that game’s ethos of treachery and paranoia and pack it into rounds of 30-40 minutes apiece, with a clear, overarching rhythm of exploration, battle and escape. That’s 30-40 minutes at the outside: if there are 12 players in the field, it’s not uncommon to bump into rivals within the first few minutes. If you’re luckier, you might be the one player who doesn’t bumble into that gunfight and wind up all on your lonesome, farming the map’s denizens at your leisure. But of course, you can never guarantee that you’re the last person standing. If you plan on going loud it’s safest to pair up, as hunters can revive one another at the cost of the permanent loss of a health bar segment.

That fear of being watched teaches you to savour the devious intricacy of Hunt’s environment design. Every feature of this benighted landscape is the basis for some kind of tactical dilemma. Buildings harbour ammo or health refills, but that also means you’re more likely to encounter other players there. Randomly applied misty or night time conditions lessen the anxiety when breaking cover, but dial it up again when defending a lair during the banishment – it’s wise to douse the lanterns before risking a peek out the window. There are times when you might want to create a noise, perhaps tripping a generator to drown out any sounds you make while sneaking up on a camper.

Boss lairs, especially, assume a twofold existence in your mind. There’s the trepidation of invading them, particularly when battling the Spider, whose form – like the Xenomorph – is hard to make out against thickets of rusting farm tools and the entangled shadows of beams. And then there’s the process of defending them during or after a banishment, whereupon you become the lurking terror, reading the minds of invaders. A woman’s yell downstairs indicates that one nearby player has roused a zombie’s wrath. A creak above suggests that another – allied to the first? – is tip-toeing across the tiles. A distant burst of cawing reveals that a third is approaching from the north. If the dice fall your way, they might take out the one on the roof while you pounce on the first player below. But you’re not really worrying about players 1, 2 and 3. The player you’re worried about is player 4, the one you haven’t detected yet, the one you must always assume is there.

I’m not sure I’ve played a multiplayer game that breeds such tension since Rainbow Six: Siege. Hunt’s drawback, if you can call it that, is that it doesn’t offer much alternative to that tension. You can’t solo the game’s maps, and while there’s a boss-less Quickplay option, this isn’t quite the emergency release valve for pent-up jitters it sounds like. Rather, it’s a very nifty extension of the character levelling system.

In Quickplay, you’re handed a random, cursed hunter and must track down three energy sources in order to activate a mystic wellspring and escape the map. Where in bounty hunt, new guns can only be looted from dead hunters, in Quickplay you’ll find exotic weapons dotted all over. You’ll also acquire a random skill for every energy source you tap. The result is a custom-created hero, endowed with choice gear and abilities that might be beyond your current Bloodline rank. Survive the ordeal, and you can recruit that character to your roster. The catch is that only one hunter can activate the wellspring and escape – and there’s nothing like the rage when you’ve cobbled together your very own Van Helsing and somebody yanks the rug away with an exploding crossbow bolt.

Long in the brewing – it began life at Crytek USA as a kind of Grimm fairytales spin on Left 4 Dead – Hunt: Showdown cuts a strange, skulking figure alongside the multiplayer shooters that dominate discussion today. It’s resolutely one-note, though each bounty hunt throws up a variety of deadly surprises, and profoundly unforgiving. Beyond that 10 level grace period it has no real interest in making you feel at home. That sheer impassivity, however, stokes emotions you simply won’t find in most multiplayer games. The way your pulse jumps when you catch the echo of gunfire. The bile in your throat as you read the Spider’s motions through the woodwork of a barn. And above all, the horrible triumph when a flock of birds take off nearby, and you aim your shotgun just as somebody peers around a wall.

from EnterGamingXP https://entergamingxp.com/2020/02/hunt-showdown-review-a-sweaty-stinking-cat-and-mouse-masterpiece-%e2%80%a2-eurogamer-net/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=hunt-showdown-review-a-sweaty-stinking-cat-and-mouse-masterpiece-%25e2%2580%25a2-eurogamer-net