#this moment can't be captured or repeated it simply exists in this moment right now

[fictionadventurer]

🌠

[viofthecollective]

The line between reality and fiction is not as narrow as one would initially perceive. It is a fuzzy one way mirror one where those above can pierce in and those below lay trapped. And one could never truly know if they exist in a fictional world.

This of course is nothing more than an interesting observation of an eccentric mind. And yours lay clueless to it. Afterall you have much more to focus on at the moment. You lay alone on your bed. Hand on your crotch, rubbing in lust. And your mind finds itself lost in a constant looping of words that only grow your excitement and arousal.

"No feeling, no thought, no emotion, just a drone." You repeat to yourself as images of visors and latex. Armies of nameless, faceless sex slaves standing at attention to their owner. Dripping wet, and throbbing hard. You just another faceless slave among the ranks. Your body runs with an electrifying pleasure, so so close, yet you have not cum.

You have been stroking for a while and you haven't cum. But that's ok, you'll cum when you need to. But you've said that to yourself before and yet you haven't cum. You can't remember when you found yourself enthralled with the idea of being a drone. It had come from nowhere or it had always been there. And it feels so good so you don't question it further. You realize you had been getting off on a tangent and remind yourself to repeat your mantra.

"No feeling, no thought, no emotion, just a drone." You repeat to yourself as images of visors and latex...

You've been like that for hours, thinking and forgetting, stroking and never cumming. You don't even realize as you attempt to understand this cycle. And yet you ask those questions, attempting to grasp something that seems so near, yet so far away. But right before you could ever get far enough. You're reset, you forget. And your hand is still stroking. And body still electric, and slowly, oh so slowly.

The space between your thoughts grow until there is only one thought, left for you to think. "No feeling, no thought, no emotion, just a drone." Again and again for days, weeks, months. The truth is lost to you. Your own life not in your hands, and you don't even notice. In truth, you are not in your room. Warm and comfortable, you are not masturbating, although you are horny.

You stand near motionless, in a cold and dark warehouse. Visor implanted over your eyes. Standing next to one another. Faceless, interchangeable, and lost in your own head. You don't even know who your are. You never liked drones. You were captured, against your will, in a flood of drones come to capture and enslave as many as they can. And you were not fast enough.

They broke you, brainwashed you, it took only a few moments, looking into the visor. And mere moments after the visor was placed over your head. You were no longer there. You did not remember it. You only remembered being horny. And needing to stroke. And it's been like that ever since and you haven't been able to tell. Or stop it, or even perceive it.

It has been 3 months since this happened. There is no hope for you. You have personally captured and enslaved a dozen others just like you. And even if you were bestowed ask this knowledge, and given the chance to escape. You wouldn't. You are simply too lost. Trapped below, in a fiction that I control.

Now Repeat These Words Forever:

No Feeling

No Thought

No Emotion

Just A Drone

[jeongjaebae]

A spark between pages

⇢ Jacob x reader, 1.1k, childhood friends to ?, just… bittersweet ⇢ For you, Jacob was always the one that got away. Now you wonder if he’s in love with someone from college as you meet up a year later.

The walk to your old high school was one that you were all too familiar with, having walked this route every day for the past few years. The sound of cars buzzing by and the feel of the groves in the sidewalk against your feet are things you've known all too well, though now there's a new traffic light and another row of new houses nearby. There's the fading heat of a summer evening and a pounding in your heart that isn't simply from walking too fast.

Not everything is the same as before.

Summer break has you finally coming home from college after a year, but despite being glad that you're back with family, there's a part of you that wanted to avoid coming back to your hometown forever. You'd seen the way other friends posted about their amazing college experiences, the way their eyes shone with excitement when telling stories of their crazy adventures. And it wasn't like you didn't have the same type of stories to tell, but rather, the one person you wanted to tell them to was too far to reach.

There's a bit of a crowd starting to gather at the field of the school, camping chairs out and cameras ready to capture the fireworks of another Canada Day. The sun is just starting to go down when you go to text him asking where he is, and you can't help but scroll up and notice that the dates on the last texts in the conversation were from a year ago. Something about final exam grades at the end of June.

A year ago. It brings you back to the day you should've been celebrating the ending of your final year in high school, when you had finally been ready to ask the one question that had been on your mind for far too long. The day you ran out of class and looked for him after receiving your marks, the day you texted him asking where he was to only get a reply saying he'd already left. Now, that question only turns into a what if—what if he'd stayed just a little longer after school that day? What if you'd ended up meeting with him? What if you'd asked the question you had in mind all year before you went off to different colleges?

"Y/N," he says softly, pulling you out of your thoughts.

Jacob. He's by your side again just as he was for all those years, but he looks different now. There's a sun kissed glow on his skin, a brightness in his eyes that hadn't been as obvious before. Has he gotten a little taller too? You wondered if he was in love. Maybe he met someone in college because love tends to make you glow all over like that.

The fading of the sunset casts against the big windows of the school and you're reminded of all the times you'd sat in those classrooms looking out. Texting him from under your desk. Classes you had shared with him where you'd scribbled in the margins of his notes. You wondered if he still had those notes, and if he dug them up now, would those doodles still be there? Would the fluttering of hearts and the spark between gazes still exist within the pages of a chapter that's now closed?

Jacob turns to say something to you, but there's a firework that goes off right at that moment. You don't turn to look at it as you're too busy trying to focus on what he's saying, but somehow you're finding yourself looking at the explosion of colours reflected from his eyes. You see the world in his eyes; the multitude of red and yellow dots of light that scatter across the remnants of a sunset sky.

"What did you say?" you ask as the noises fade and the stillness settles in again. "Sorry; couldn't hear."

He simply shakes his head and gives you a soft smile, "It's nothing."

This time, you turn to enjoy the rest of the fireworks, the most spectacular that you've seen. The lower the sun gets, the brighter they light up the sky, soaring to great heights and vanishing quietly into the night. Maybe this was the erasing and rewriting of a page you've kept open for too long, gently fading into a lovely summer night. A beautiful start of a blank slate.

It gets cold as the blanket of darkness settles in, but his body is warm where he's pressed against your side.

Walking back after the fireworks leaves a strange taste in your mouth.

"It's weird being home," he says. "Everything still looks the same but so much has changed."

"Yeah," you repeat, "so much has changed."

So much has changed and yet the night sky looks the same as you're walking down the same street with the same friend, just as you'd done every day for the past few years. Has everything changed? The only thing that's changed is his easy smile, gone now and replaced with a press of his lips.

When he walks you to your house, steps slow in the coolness of the summer breeze. His eyes no longer reflect the brilliant fireworks etched in your mind from earlier, but instead you see yourself in them. In his eyes you could see your shared memories of late nights playing guitar, soft melodies and even softer glances as hands brushed over the same strings. Walks at the park where two dogs were better than one, and maybe two people were better than one as well.

A goodbye is said with hesitance, a spark lingering in the air. You wonder if it really is too late as he turns and all you could see is the image of his back getting smaller and smaller as he gets farther and farther from you. Maybe he'd always be getting farther away from you. You wonder if he really is in love.

It's not until there's a quiet knock on the door just before you could decide to go upstairs and call it a day. He's there, and so are the feelings that were always resting just beneath the surface, the ones that you thought had long faded over the course of a year. You see them in his eyes this time, that nothing has faded but instead, built up to this moment.

Beginnings and endings are the hardest to write, but maybe this isn't a blank page with a clean slate, nor a closure of a chapter in a book. It's a turn of a page, a pause between breaths.

And it's not until his arms are around you that you realize he really is in love.

He is in love, just as you'd thought the whole night. But it's not with someone from college, not with someone new. You just hadn't expected it to be with you.

[midnight-strays]

Hi there! I love BSD! Could I please ask for a senecio where after Dazai leaves the port mafia, their s/o who he left as well is accused for where their loyalties lie by other members and is abused regularly for it and dazai doesn't know until years later where chuuya screams it at him pissed because he sees s/o as a sibling and can't do anything about it because Mori forbids him.

//Warning: Swearing and mild violence

Coughs shook your body as you knelt, hunched over on the ground, the contents of your stomach spilled before you on the pavement. Just moments ago, blow after blow from a few of your male superiors had been dealt to your stomach, from punches to kicks, all of which resulted in you throwing up. This wasn't anything new to you though and sometimes you had to wonder, how your body still managed to react that way despite receiving the same treatment almost daily. Now you sat there all alone, trying to collect yourself, wiping your mouth with a black handkerchief your dear friend had given you. Just another thing you had learned to carry around with you considering this... new lifestyle.

You hated it, you truly hated it, but you couldn't bring yourself to place the blame where it belonged. You couldn't bring yourself to do the healthy thing and just let go before things got any worse. So, you did what you always did. You pushed yourself onto your feet, folded your handkerchief so you wouldn't get puke in your pocket as you put it away and took a deep breath. All in time for the warehouse door to swing open with a loud creak and crash to follow. "Mori doesn't like it when you slam doors you know," you croaked out, lifting your gaze to look at the ginger executive whom had marched into the room.

"I don't exactly care about that right now," Chuuya grunted, cringing at the sight of the vomit on the ground. "They were hitting you again..." You shrugged your shoulders, stepping around the mess on the ground to make your way to the ginger. You could see the anger and pain held in his gaze but knew he wasn't mad at you. He was angry at those who hurt you, angry at Mori who wouldn't put a stop to this, angry at the man who started everything in the first place. And then it hurt him that he couldn't help you. All he could do was be that pillar of support for you, be a shoulder to cry on when things got a little too hard for you to handle.

"You're an executive for Christ's sake. You should be allowed to defend yourself. Fuck- The Boss shouldn't be letting this happen," he growled but never rose his voice. You could only shake your head though, knowing that it was pointless to cry over something that had been going on for years. That right... It wasn't a new lifestyle at all actually. You had been living this way for four exact years next week. "I think you mean ex-executive Chuuya. I'm fine, everything is fine. I just need to brush my teeth and get on with my mission," you assured him in a low tone, moving to step around him as well before he grabbed your bicep, preventing you from making your exit. "Chuuya..." Your voice was low, almost sounding like a warning if he didn't know you better. "I don't want to talk about this right now." You knew he wouldn't listen though. He released your arm, allowing you to walk again, but quickly fell into step with you.

"You can't just continue to live like this. God damnit (Y/N), you need to put your foot down! The moment you finally cut ties with that Mackerel, the better. Take back your rightful place as a Port Mafia executive because there is nothing more I can do for you. The Boss won't change anything unless you prove yourself again," Chuuya ranted, nudging you a little in the direction of his car. Almost an exact replica of the one your beloved had destroyed four years ago. Right as he left the mafia and you behind.

"Prove myself? What the hell do you think I've been trying to do? I go on mission after mission, I'm losing sleep, my own underlings beat the crap out of me whenever I'm around and I don't lash out! What makes you think anything will change? It's all-" You cut yourself off but the man beside you stopped by the car, giving you an intense stare, telling you to continue. "Say it." You shook your head quickly and opened the passenger door, only for him to push it shut again. "Say. It," he repeated, almost glaring now. He wasn't angry at you though. The day Chuuya would ever be angry with you would be the day you blew up his car. Your eyes began to sting and glazed over with tears as you turned away from him and took in a sharp breath. "It's his fault..." You whispered.

"Who's fault?" You've never wanted to hit Chuuya but you were coming close to it right now. "Dazai! It's all Dazai's fault okay?! That asshole promised me he'd never fucking leave and look what he did!" You yelled, wiping at your eyes roughly to prevent your tears from running down your face. As you cried, you barely registered strong arms wrapping around your smaller form, bringing you into the car and then taking you home. Four years. It had taken you four years to admit that it was all his fault. Osamu Dazai left you and the mafia in the dust and now you were paying for it. Yet... You still loved him all the same.

*+*+*+*

Dazai hung by his wrists, singing softly to himself and the empty room as he waited for someone to come keep him company. His intentions were clear in his head, he wouldn't allow anything else to tear him from his goal, learning about the bounty on his man-tiger apprentice. So far, everything had gone according to plan. The Port Mafia had 'captured' him, bringing him exactly where he needed to be without him needing to do anything. Now all that was left was to get to the right room to find the information he was looking for.

But of course, there was something he needed to do first and the subject of that something happened to be coming down the stairs now, looking less than amused. "Chuuya~ Fancy seeing you here~" He hummed, smiling casually at the ginger man who slammed his boot clad foot against the wall by his head. Dazai fell silent but the smile never left his face, only further brothering the mafia executive. "What the hell are you doing here?" he hissed, bringing his foot back down to the ground. He wanted nothing more than to strangle the man on the spot. For turning his back on the mafia, for turning his back on their partnership, for turning his back on you. The one person who he shouldn't have let go of. The one that Chuuya should have gotten to before the damned mackerel. The one that was currently out on a mission hardly worth the time of day.

"What are you talking about? I've obviously been captured. It's not my fault I'm here right now," the brunette claimed with an innocent pout. The gravity controlling man knew the ex-mafia executive far too well to believe him for a moment. There was no way they would be able to catch Dazai off guard so easily. He had been an executive for a reason after all. "Liar. You wanted to come here, now what do you want?" He demanded to know, breaking the chains that held Dazai up within the blink of an eye. "You wouldn't have been brought here so easily if there wasn't something you were after. So, stop playing dumb." He wasn't playing. He wanted to beat on the taller man for his own personal reasons, but he also wanted to drag his face across the ground for you. To perhaps bring an end to your forever aching heart. To make you realise that he was nothing more than a worthless speck on the ground that you could walk all over, that you could forget even existed. At the same time however, he kind of hoped he was here for you. He hoped that Dazai would straight up tell him that he was here to finally take you away from all the pain. He hoped that Dazai could make you happy again, to keep you safe because he couldn't do it himself.

That's why he kicked him into the wall the moment Atsushi's name passed through his lips. "That's why you're here?! For someone you barely know?! What is wrong with you?" Chuuya yelled at him, holding his knife to his throat. "That can't be the only reason you're here. Tell me why you're here!" He tried to coax the real response out of him, or perhaps just the one he wanted to hear. Dazai stared at him with a small frown and grabbed his wrist, a warning not to bring the blade any closer to his throat. "If you're trying to make me say I'm here for (Y/N), I'm not. I'm not here to take her away with me, she can stay here. Where she's comfortable. I'm simply after the information about Atsushi's bounty," he claimed, almost coldly. It made a chill run down Chuuya's spine. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Yes, Chuuya was loyal to the Port Mafia but he was no idiot. Anyone would be far better off without the mafia in their life.

"Where she's comfortable?" He asked lowly, lowering the knife and glaring daggers at him. "What makes you so sure she's okay? That she's even alive?" He asked and for a moment, he saw a faint shift in Dazai's expression. Was that concern he saw in his eyes? It better have been. "You know what? You know nothing. You want to know what pain you've caused her by abandoning her? She cried for days once she realised you had left for good. She stopped eating, stopped sleeping... She took the blame for you leaving. Everyone is blaming her! Four fucking years of beatings all because of you. Not a day goes by where I'm not picking her up off the ground because she's paying for your fuck up!"

Dazai felt a pang of pain in his chest and his face dropped. They were doing what to you? No... No, him leaving was supposed to mean you would be safer... He couldn't be the one to have caused you this much pain. "Why-" Dazai started but was quickly interrupted by the angry ginger who was practically seething, swinging at him aggressively. "You've ruined her Dazai! She could have been happy! She could be happy now, doing something worth her time, be with someone who wouldn't just up and leave because he felt like it. But no. She just had to choose you, didn't she?! She had to choose the one person who couldn't keep a simple promise."

"Chuuya..." So caught up in each other, neither man noticed the sound of light footsteps coming down the stairs, nor the bruised, feminine figure now standing at the doorway until her voice travelled into the room. The man called upon turned his head, eyes widening a little at the sight of the girl they had been 'discussing'. Your (E/C) eyes looked across at Dazai, chest squeezing as pain travelled straight to your heart. 'Dazai', danced on your tongue but not a sound was made. You just stared at him helplessly and for a moment, he stared back, unsure of what he should do. "(Y/N)... It's good to see you. Wish it was under better circumstances," he tried to be casual, but he knew he had broken your heart. Shattered the one thing you had given him from the beginning. She frowned at him and looked back to Chuuya. "Chuuya, the boss would like to see you... Dazai, get what you need and leave. You shouldn't be here. We all know that," you claimed coldly, watching as your dear friend walked over to you, ready to leave the room with you.

"(Y/N), wait-" Dazai tried but you silenced him by raising a hand. He felt his heart crack at the silent rejection as Chuuya placed a hand on your shoulder, a silent gesture of comfort. "Get out of here Dazai," you repeated yourself. And with that, you turned on your heel, walking back up the stairs with Chuuya, leaving Dazai in the dust, heart slowly beginning to shatter as he started to realise just how badly he had fucked up.

[skriak]

TOP 10 NINTENDO SWITCH GAMES 2019 - my arbitrary list!

Sometimes it's good to be proven wrong. I was pretty sceptical when the Switch was first announced, as it didn't seem too different from the Wii U's gamepad. Then I spent two years watching Nintendo enjoy a complete reversal of fortune, to the point of potentially amassing a more compelling library than Sony's or Microsoft's consoles. So that's how I quite suddenly found myself buying a Switch in October 2019, after having resisted the PS4 and Xbone for five whole years, and my free time has since been dominated by this little machine that defied the odds.

Some of Nintendo's business decisions can still seem inexplicable, but releasing a powerful handheld console that can also be docked with a TV at a moment's notice has proved to be an inspired idea, rather than the gimmick the Wii U's gamepad mostly turned out to be. And along with Nintendo's dependable series of top-notch exclusives, the Switch has enjoyed much better third-party support, which is how I ended up buying Dark Souls for the fourth bloody time just because the option to play it portably was too tempting to resist.

The Switch is the first console I've bought since the PS3 and for all Nintendo's quirks, there's a reason the Switch has dominated Christmas wishlists for three years running. Games like Super Mario Odyssey feel like full-size adventures that just happen to have a portable option, as opposed to handheld games you can also play on the big screen. This is the first year in a long while that I've actually played enough topical titles to justify a "games of the year" list, even if my recent Nintendo bias is pretty blatant.

So with that caveat in mind, and in no particular order, here's my entirely subjective list of the best Nintendo Switch games of 2019.

Luigi's Mansion 3

This is a franchise I'd always been curious about and can finally have an opinion on. The process of going from floor to floor of the hotel hoovering up ghosts and solving puzzles is pretty straightforward, but Luigi's Mansion 3 has so much polish and personality crammed into the cartridge. Luigi is immediately lovable as a determined coward, and each level has a wildly different theme that's realised with extravagant audio and visual flair, so progress always feels rewarding. Though this isn't true horror by any means, there can be an unsettling atmosphere and some of the bosses are pretty freaky. I officially love this oddball franchise and am desperate for a chance to play the story again in co-op. Unquestionably a first-class exclusive.

Doom (Switch port)

Not to be confused with the impressive Switch version of Doom 2016, this is the iconic Doom made cheap and accessible. While purists may take issue with some minor technical deviations, this is the first time I've got most of the way through Doom because the portability and *glorious* true dual-stick control makes this easily my favourite version. There's even a cheat menu for when I just want to mindlessly punch hell beasts. The main thing that ages Doom is its maze-like structure, but playing it casually experience alleviates that frustration somewhat. At a grand total of four pounds, this is a BFB (big fucking bargain).

Untitled Goose Game

You know a game is good when the only asterisk I put on my recommendation is that it *may* be overpriced. Untitled Goose Game took the internet by storm this year because it's the quintessential indie game: cute, simple and with anti-authoritarian undertones. As a horrible goose, it's your mission to cause havoc in an unsuspecting English village, interacting with people and objects to cause chain reactions of chaos. Some of the puzzle solutions are maybe a bit obscure, but 90% of the time just messing around with everything in the area will lead to a solution. Untitled Goose Game makes up for its brevity with sheer comedic charm, feeling much better-designed than a "lul so random" affair like Goat Simulator. A honking good time.

Terraria (Switch port)

I have spent literally hundreds of hours on the PC version of Terraria, so when I was broke after buying my Switch the new Terraria port was an obvious cost-effective choice. While the controls aren't as precise, the amount of time spent mining and sorting through loot makes this a great handheld experience. I can't comment on the multiplayer options but few games represent such a sheer value for money, as there's always a new cave to explore or a new boss to overcome. Time has been kind to this 2011 classic, grind notwithstanding.

Yooka-Laylee and the Impossible Lair

While I personally enjoyed the original Yooka-Laylee, it was definitely flawed and I never seriously expected to see a sequel. But Yooka-Laylee and the Impossible Lair launched quite abruptly and did a pretty spectacular job of upstaging its predecessor. All the previous game's half-baked feel has been replaced with clever design touches, like the equippable tonics which grant helpful abilities at the cost of a currency penalty. The titular Lair is actually the final level and available to throw yourself at right from the beginning, but beating it without first obtaining more hitpoints by completing other stages is incredibly hard, which is a great way to incentivize progress without denying more confident players the option of beating the game earlier if they can meet the challenge. Impossible Lair might be this year's biggest surprise, and despite a modest budget I think it's worthy of comparison to excellent 2D platformers like Rayman Legends. Just don't expect to defeat Capital B on your first attempt.

A Hat In Time (Switch port)

I recently reviewed A Hat In Time but at the risk of repeating myself, it's one of the most charming games of the last few years and an incredibly impressive crowdfunded achievement. Mario's offerings may be a grander technical feat, but A Hat In Time is a fast and fabulous journey through a series of weird and wonderful worlds that all feel distinct in content and tone. It's very openly inspired by GameCube-era platformers like Mario Sunshine and Psychonauts and it easily scratches that itch. Simply one of the best original platformers of this generation, and I defy you not to love Hat Kid's cheeky antics.

Spyro Reignited Trilogy (Switch port)

As someone who thinks the original Spyro trilogy holds up better than most early 3D games, I'd have actually preferred a simple port rather than a full remake, but The Reignited Trilogy is honestly impeccable. The updated visuals are gorgeous while maintaining the general style of those old, jaggy models, and very little of the gameplay or content has changed except for sensible updates like the ability to immediately warp between every level you've visited. Having full dual-analogue control is also an absolute godsend even for a PS1 veteran like me. Though Spyro may seem a bit basic these days when faced with modern platformer marvels, the Reignited Trilogy makes these old favourites accessible again at a generous price point.

Ring Fit Adventure

Yes, I have a Wii kicking around in a box somewhere. No, Wii Fit never held my attention as anything more than a curiosity. Ring Fit Adventure, meanwhile, is limited only by my cholesterol-encrusted heart and dislike of excessive showering. This is an honest-to-goodness attempt at making an RPG out of a workout toy, and the amount of polish put into the game's presentation and hardware implementation is pretty remarkable. Levels involve jogging on the spot and squeezing the ring accessory to collect goodies and overcome obstacles, and periodically you'll engage in turn-based combat where you use a custom selection of exercise moves to deal damage. It's a fantastic idea pulled off much more elegantly than it sounds. The ring accessory unfortunately makes this quite an expensive game, so it'll take a lot of regular use to get your money's worth, but I can honestly (and surprisingly) say that exercise suddenly becomes more compelling when it's presented as a light RPG adventure with anthropomorphic gym equipment encouraging you to take breaks and drink plenty of water.

Pokémon Sword/Shield

Disclaimer: I can only give my impressions from 25 hours of playing Pokémon Shield, so this is DEFINITELY not a full review. That being said, this is still an easy recommendation to existing Pokemaniacs and a good starting point for any new acolytes. While the core formula hasn't evolved (har har) much since the very first Pokemon, Sword and Shield still has a number of modern quality of life improvements that make previous generations show their age. I've had so much fun building a core crew of cute and/or badass 'mons in a weird Nintendo version of Britain, and the online features combine with a VASTLY improved random encounter system to make grinding far less of a concern. The wild area takes some getting used to, but it's satisfying to come back and capture the huge Onyx you had to run away from a few hours before. Even if Pokémon Sword/Shield has some technical blemishes and could have pushed the series further in some regards, it's still easy to see why this franchise has maintained such a beloved status for so long.

Red Faction: Guerrilla Re-mars-tered (Switch port)

Along with Dark Souls, Red Faction was a game I never even knew I needed on the go, but now I've got it I can't imagine ever going back. A cult classic due to its amazing destruction physics, Red Faction sees you leading a proletariat revolution on Mars, literally tearing down corporate monuments to free the working class from systematic oppression. The open world is a bit claustrophobic and the shooting isn't exactly mind-blowing, but there's a reason I've beaten Red Faction every couple of years ever since its original 2009 release. The Switch port does the game justice and if you set the difficulty to easy then this is one of the best rage-venting experiences money can buy. So yes, I recommend getting your ass to Mars.

[tarralin]

3. Why Not?

This is the continuation of Diabolicus. You can find my other works on the Master List linked in my blog's description.

Thank you @ikemenfics for beta reading!

Enjoying my work? Buy me a coffe at http://ko-fi.com/tarralin

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

~*~

...

The indulgence of diversion was simply at an end.

...

At least, that was what Kennyo tried to tell himself each night he stood at the forest’s edge until the last candle had been snuffed out. He hadn’t entered her dreams in three nights. It was for the best. His place was in Hell where he needed to return and await his next summoning… and still he found himself watching over her daily actions.

Still he found himself peering through her dreamsphere each night, giving into curiosity.

This night, she sauntered along a stone balcony he knew only existed on castles of old lands and nowhere near these colonies of a young world. The golden gown that clothed her was the fashion of an ended age with the square neckline of a constraining bodice and full skirt swaying across the polished marble floor. A looping filigree traced the long, draping sleeves until the crimson trimming ended its pathway. Her silver locks were kept in their place by pearl encrusted combs pinned to the base of her head and then the luminous curls were allowed to dance freely in the moonlight.

Just as before, her gaze snapped to his without warning as a smile bloomed. “Now Puzzle Maker, I remember giving you permission to enter without invitation.”

“That you did,” Kennyo grinned as he joined her at the balcony. “As unnecessary as it was.”

Her smile faltered slightly at that. “Don't most immortals need permission to enter a realm or residence?”

“They do but, in the case of the Dreamscape—" Kennyo raised his left hand for her inspection, “—only a hair is needed to unlock the portal.”

A bark of laughter slipped from her throat once her eyes found the single silver strand wrapped around his fingers. “So, you've obviously had a plan from the beginning. You sought me out for possible connections to My Brother Once Was… but why do I still feel your presence like a second shadow? Why did you stay?”

Why indeed? Kennyo wasn't sure, even now, only knew that he felt a tug back to the mortal realm each time he stood at the precipice of Hell’s entrance. A pull that only ended in her presence like a fisherman's tether that had caught its prize. Not that he could tell her that, settling instead for indifference. “Why not?”

Her lavender eyes narrowed at the blasé response as if she could see through to the truth but kept her thoughts to herself. A sudden swell of music echoed through the stone walls of the palace to his ears, bringing back her usual radiant smile as she pushed from the balcony. A quick flourish of her hand had a pair of doors forming in the wall before her where previously only solid stone stood. Another flick of the wrist commanded them to swing, opening to a massive ballroom that hosted a moderate crowd of lavishly dressed dancers.

“What is this?” Kennyo questioned skeptically.

With a grin, she spun full circle as if to encompass the entire room until she met his gaze again. “My own means.”

He grinned at the repeated phrase from All Hallows Eve as he circled her in the same form of the dance portrayed by the dreamfolk before offering his hand to her in invitation. “So you often dream of parties that occurred before your time?”

She accepted his hand happily. “My time? Ha! You don’t know much of my kind, do you?”

“Of nephilim? Apologies, but no, I don't. The last Half-Born I know of was the giant Goliath.”

“Goliath? Truly? I didn’t realize we were so…”

“Rare?” He provided when her words trailed off.

“Yes… No wonder Heaven is so insistent on my conversion!” She shook her head, clearing her eyes of the evident disbelief before continuing with her original thought. “My twin and I were born in the spring of fourteen seventy-two but it wasn't until our fortieth winter approached that we realized we hadn't aged like those around us.”

Extended longevity, one more bit to file away on the knowledge of nephilim. “So these fashions and parties were of your time.”

“Yes,” her steps slowed a moment while she glanced around the ballroom, as if seeing memories of old play across her vision. “My brother’s scholarly pursuits lead us to London and in the presence of Henry VIII for a brief time. I was allowed to attend a party similar to this once.”

“Enjoyed it so much you now repeat it in sleep?”

The music ended and they parted per etiquette. “You catch on quick, Puzzle Maker.”

“I’d like to think so,” he raised his hand to her again as a new, lively tune arose.

Just as before, Kennyo picked up the rhythm of the new dance easily and was soon leading her through the steps as designed. She seemed to truly float in his arms with the absence of physical touch, the rustling of her dress along the floor as the only indicator she was there at all.

“Tell me, Lady Nephilim,” he started as he spun her in time with the music, pulling her back flush against his chest. “Why do you call me ‘Puzzle Maker'?”

“You've not offered another title for me to address you by, nor have you told me what you are. Our names have power, even on the Dreamscape, which is why I haven't asked you of yours or corrected that which you call me. Actually, I've grown quite fond of your gifted moniker.” She glanced over her shoulder to ensure he saw her grin. “Are you not a puzzle maker? Have to say, you had me fooled by all those games you sent me.”

“ ‘Games’?!” He scoffed at her flippant attitude, pivoting himself to face her again. “Did any of those ‘games’ challenge you? Frighten you?”

Her smile turned thoughtful for a moment. “The maze.”

“The maze? How so?”

“Come, I'll show you.” She turned on her heel and pulled him by the hand through the crowd. A curtain hung along the ballroom wall that she threw aside to reveal another set of double doors. They flew open without so much as a tap of her fingers, leading immediately outside where an expansive garden laid before them. A hedge work maze stretched as far as the eye could see, the wall of green standing twice Kennyo’s height and eliminating all visual capabilities aside from staring straight up into the sky.

“Now, let me think…”

His gaze settled back to her. The new, predatorial drawl to her words unsettled his resolve as the doors clamped shut behind them with a boom. A wolfish smirk blossomed upon her features when she released his hand and disappeared through a split in the trees. He sprinted through the same split, instincts screaming that he not lose sight of her. Truly, dear Lady, a chase?

“Something's missing...” her voice pranced across his ears as he turned the first corner. She was nowhere to be seen despite the closeness of her teasing statement. “Oh, now I remember!”

An ear shattering howl sounded from the entrance. If he possessed his physical senses, Kennyo was sure his lungs would have frozen. There was only one beast that could relinquish such a soul searing wail. He dove to the left wing and pounded down the gravel path, cursing himself for being so clever as to include Hell’s Hound in the crafted nightmares.

“And let’s not forget…”

A gale of wind whistled through the pathway with enough force to tumble him to his knees, leaves biting across his nose with the realization he could feel the sting. This was far beyond the common lucidity that even some mortals could master. Just what kind of sorcery did the Lady Nephilim practice to accomplish this feat?

The fiendish snarls of Hell’s cruelest creature grew close to his heels. If he could feel the leaves and wind, what damage could the hound’s fangs inflict?

The path brought him to another three way choice. He took the right wing this time, hoping to throw off the hound but still growls of the hunt followed his steps until another choice lay before him. Straight ahead it is.

Again? Right.

This is ridiculous! Left.

Kennyo happened upon another break in the tree line with the same choice trio. “What ‘game’ are you playing here?!” He shouted to the sky, knowing she’d hear him.

Her words were like warm honey over his conscious regardless of her role as the tormentor. “The very same you played at my expense. This one's not so fun, is it?” The chilled blast of wind carried the roar of the pursuing predator.

A sigh from the Nephilim. “Neither left, right, nor forward have proven successful, and you certainly can't go whence you came. Come now, think on it!”

The gale’s howling was rivaled only by that of the hound encroaching upon him. He had to choose again and he had to choose now but no matter which path he chose, it would continuously loop back to this same trident. How did she solve it when she was closed in on all sides—

No. Not all sides.

At the same moment the snarling beast would have captured him, Kennyo lunged onto a nearby branch of the hedge work and climbed. He focused solely on his footwork as he swung from one bough to the next, lest he fall to the jaws of his own handiwork. Once he scaled to the top, the ferocity of both wind and monstrosity ceased and he could see a clear passage to the epicenter.

She lounged across a stone bench waiting for him. She had changed from the golden gown of a queen to a shimmering cloth that matched her eyes, similar to that he often saw draped upon the women of Heaven when they came to dissuade contract seeking mortals. The robe flattered her greatly instead of appearing as if it had been wrapped around in haste and without care. She could have stepped into a painted rendition of the ancient isles and taken their wardrobe for herself.

Kennyo shook his head to clear away the distraction, focusing on her gaze. “You climbed the wall.”

“I climbed the wall,” she agreed, grinning again. “Though it took me nearly all night to figure it out, so I applaud your speed. Ironic that it took you seven turns.”

“Six,” he corrected only to witness her shaking her head.

“The climb counts as a turn, but enough of that.” She stood and crossed the distance to properly meet his gaze. “Why did you stay?”

“Pardon?” Why that question, of all things?

“My hair gives free reign to enter this realm and whatever plans you initially had for Nari dissolved once you learned I would be of no use to you. Yet, you continued to watch over me. Even now, here in the maze, you could have left at anytime. Yet, you worked through it. So I ask again… Why. Do. You. Stay?”

Persistent little thing aren't you? “I… wish I could tell you, dear Lady, but the truth is I don't know the answer.”

There was a glimmer in her eyes at the honesty. “I have a thought on that myself, but I think it best if you realize on your own.”

Suddenly, he wished he had told her of the frustrations of the last weeks, the sensation of being drawn back to her side, everything. In the centuries he walked as a demon, he possessed neither emotions nor indecisiveness. Only a hollowness that was continuously questioned by the mortals as he could never empathize with the tearful pleas or their need for the attentions of another. Even before selling his soul as a human, he’d been free of earthly entanglements and desires.

Now, he understood. Need. Desire. Longing. Did a term even exist to describe to the endless flurry of emotions swirling within him? As he willingly stood here at her mercy, he knew he would beg without qualms for an end to the storm just as much as he wished it to continue for eternity. How could he be affected so greatly? How was this possible?

There was only one impossible answer.

“You really do catch on quick,” she whispered as she lightly trailed a hand up his arm. “It appears you figured it out already.”

Kennyo framed her face in his palms, suddenly lamenting the lack of a physical presence. “Why?”

This time, the brilliance of her smile as she mimicked his motions of cupping his face nearly blinded him. “Why not?”

~*~

If you're curious, see the dress that I was inspired by and envisioned here:

~*~