#until cross guild that is but i am technically not supposed to know about that yet

[invye]

Mihawk does not fly a Jolly Roger on Hitsugibune.

I don't know why I never noticed it before, but now that I did I can't stop thinking about it. I don't think we have seen the black sails unfurled before, so it might be hidden there, but that seems unlikely. The fact that Mihawk doesn't fly a Jolly Roger of his own results in a very different interesting thought:

What if Mihawk does not consider himself a pirate?

(extended ramblings under the cut)

He's not denying it of course, after all he's got a bounty, travels the seas and is the feared Marine Hunter. But he also doesn't bother flying a Jolly Roger, he doesn't want a crew nor a captain, his boat is barely a better raft that's not meant for any other than himself and probably only manages to brave the treacherous whims of the Grand Line due to its owner's sheer willpower and sailing skill.

So now I'm thinking we might have things the wrong way around. Maybe Mihawk is not an enemy of the Marines because he is a pirate. He is a pirate because he is an enemy of the Marines.

Whatever happened in his past that shaped him, I believe is also the reason he got the Marine Hunter epithet in the first place. He went on a literal hunt for the Marines, maybe for revenge, maybe for something else, leaving nothing behind but blood and death. The sailing is a natural consequence, after all, most of the Marines can be found at sea.

So the Marines brand him as a pirate, give him a title and a bounty. And Mihawk doesn't care to correct them. He doesn't care at all besides where to find his next fight, doesn't bother with a Jolly Roger or anything else. He's here to fight and kill and become the World's Strongest Swordsman.

Maybe things change a little over time, leading up to him attending Gold Roger's execution. He's there to pay his respect, not as a fellow pirate, but rather as a fellow fighter, a fellow enemy of the Marines. Mihawk doesn't care about the treasure or the One Piece, but he respects Roger for what he's done, for the challenge he had presented to their shared enemy for so long.

But that day he may for the first time begin to understand what it truly means to be a pirate, as he observes how all of the pirates around him scamper and run and yell and go forth to search for Roger's treasure. He observes the beginning of a new era from his position of being vaguely on the sidelines but not truly separate.

Later, when he meets and duels Shanks, being considered a pirate doesn't just not bother him, but he somewhat embraces it. Not fully, he will refuse to join Shanks' crew no matter how often he asks, and he still can't be bothered with the Jolly Roger, doesn't consider himself a captain either, but he has embraced the freedom to do as he pleases.

Mihawk joins the Warlords because he's getting tired of fighting not even mediocre Marines. He's stopped truly hunting them ages ago, ever since he has Shanks to give him a true challenge. But thanks to his title, now the Marines hunt him instead. Garp especially becomes annoying now that he hasn't got Roger to chase to occupy his time anymore. Mihawk doesn't understand why Garp decides to make him his next target, but it takes only so many deliberate near misses of canon balls lobbed at Hitsugibune until Mihawk answers Garp's yelling of "HAWKEYES!!! JOIN THE WARLORDS!!!" with a grumpy, near silent "Fine." (He had already planned to join just for his peace. It's definitely not because of Garp being annoying.)

If by some miracle anyone hadn't considered Mihawk to be a pirate before, joining the Seven Warlords of the Seas makes it official. Mihawk continues exactly the same way he's done before, goes where he pleases, duels Shanks, maybe occasionally shows up for a Warlord meeting to sip wine and observe the drama.

The world may have decided that he is a pirate for him, whether he considered himself as such or not, and honestly at this point? Sure. Why not. Pirate he is.

Mihawk still doesn't bother with a Jolly Roger.

[i-am-the-hero-alfred-jones]

Fairy Tail’s Fairy Tale’s Chapter 4

((Part 4 of my contribution for the Fairy Tail big bang by @ft-ez-bb ! This is my favorite chapter, so I hope you guys enjoy it! Please like/comment/reblog/ect!! )) 

Wendy glanced back into the book, "Okay next is-" The doors of the guild were thrown open and an underwear-clad ice mage stormed in. "So how was the annulment?" Erza asked, smirking as she sat by Wendy. She had been looking over the slayer's shoulder and had an idea for the next story. "We're still married!" Juvia declared, hugging onto Gray happily. Normally Gray would allow her to hold onto him for a short time, but this time he roughly shrugged her off. "We can't get it annulled for 24 hours." he informed the guild bitterly, "They have to wait for the paperwork to go through before they can cancel it." 

"But Gajeel still has the paperwork. . . " Wendy said, confused. "What?!" Gray whirled towards the dragon slayer. Sure enough, the marriage certificate was still sitting on the table in front of him. "Yeah, technically you guys aren't legal until I turn this thing in." Gajeel said, handing Gray the paper. "Oh no!" Juvia gasped, she wasn't aware of that fact, "If we hurry back to City Hall we can turn it in-" Gray looked her dead in the eye as he ripped the certificate in half. Juvia gasped and covered her mouth. Gray proceeded to shred the rest of the paper, before throwing it into the fire. "Gray-" "No! I'm not talking to you- I don't even want to look  at you right now!" he yelled angrily. Juvia ran out of the guild sobbing. Wendy and Lyon seemed to be the only ones that felt bad for Juvia, as everyone else agreed that tricking someone into thinking they'd married you was crossing some sort of line. 

"I'm glad you're back Gray, because I think the next story would be perfect for you and Natsu." Erza mentioned. "Me and who?!" Gray demanded, "Aren't I angry enough right now?!" "But it's for Wendy." Erza pointed out, gesturing to the guild's sweetest member, who was staring at the book curiously. "Do you really think this would be good for Gray and Natsu?" Wendy asked curiously. "I think it would be perfect." Erza assured, "Lucy and I could be their parents. All we need now is a witch." "But who would want to hurt Gray and Natsu?" Wendy asked innocently. Laxus snorted from the bar, "Who wouldn't?" he took a drag from his pint but choked on it at Wendy's next words. 

"Perfect! Laxus, you can be the witch!" "No!" Laxus slammed his drink down, "I think this whole thing is stupid and I'm not-" he fell silent as his eyes fell on Wendy. She looked like she was about to cry. "Oh. . . I understand. . ." Wendy said hollowly. She looked away, "Y-you don't have to do it if you don't want to. . ." The guild glared and Laxus felt guilt twist in his stomach. "Hey- I didn't mean it like that-" he said quickly, "You know what? I'll be your witch." "I don't wanna make you-" Wendy began. Laxus interrupted her, "No. I want to be your witch." he assured, "It uh- it sounds like fun." "Really?" Wendy asked hopefully. "Really." Laxus confirmed. "Thank you, Laxus!" she hugged the blonde happily. Laxus stiffened at the touch, but sighed and rested a hand on her head, "You're welcome. . ." he grumbled, heading backstage. Freed had a hand on his heart as he watched the other go, "Laxus is so good with children." he declared fondly. Bixlow just stared at him in awe, "You must have seen something we didn't." 

HANSEL AND GRETEL

Wendy smiled, "Next up is the story of Hansel and Gretel-" "Hold it!" Wendy glanced up at Gray curiously. He was now clad in blue lederhosen. "Why am I the girl?" he demanded. "Because Gretel is the one who outsmarts the witch." Wendy explained. Gray glanced back towards Natsu, who was now trying to lick his own elbow. "Yeah, he's not outsmarting anyone. Alright, let's get started." He grabbed Natsu, who was wearing matching red lederhosen and dragged him backstage. 

"In a great wood there lived a poor woodcutter, his wife, and his two children. The boy's name was Hansel and the gir- the other boy's name was Gretel." Wendy began. Lucy and Erza came onstage and sat in a bed together. Natsu and Gray walked onstage from the other side. A prop door separated the boys from the girls. "I'm hungry." Natsu complained. "It's a famine, Natsu, everyone's hungry." Gray shot back. Lucy turned to Erza, "We gotta get rid of them, Erza." Gray and Natsu looked towards the door in confusion, they pressed their ears up against it to listen better. "I can't take it anymore!" Lucy wailed, "I need a break! Just for like, a day!" Erza hummed, "Well. . . their bickering is pretty obnoxious. . ." she admitted, "And we'd have a lot more food with Natsu out of the house. But how would we get rid of them?" "Let's just . . . leave them in the woods." Lucy suggested. Erza nodded to herself, "Simple, yet elegant- good plan, Lucy. Tomorrow, we'll leave our children in the woods." The two lay down in bed and pretended to sleep. 

Gray threw his hands up in exasperation, "Well, we're doomed." "Hey!" Natsu put a hand on Gray's shoulder, "Don't worry about it, we'll figure something out! We always do!" And the slayer lay on the ground to feign sleep as well. Gray looked towards the audience again. "Yeah, we're doomed." he confirmed, but joined Natsu on the floor anyways. Wendy took up her narration again, "The next day, the parents took Hansel and Gretel into the woods, intent on losing them."  "Alright kids, everyone ready to go into the woods?" Lucy asked. Natsu raised his hand eagerly, "Can I bring my rock collection?!" Lucy just stared at him for a moment. ". . . Sure. . ." she shook her head as she walked off. "Why the hell do you wanna bring a rock collection?" Gray asked. "I figured if we're gonna live in the woods, I might well release them back into the wild." Natsu shrugged. That rendered Gray speechless for a solid minute. "Natsu, Do you think the rocks . . . are alive?" he asked, slowly. "Well, yeah! Aren't they? Igneel said everything in nature is alive." Natsu replied casually. Gray gave a deep sigh, "Let's just get this over with." he stood up and walked offstage. "I'm still taking my rock collection!" Natsu declared stubbornly, as he followed Gray offstage. 

The group came onstage again. "Now you kids wait here and we'll come back soon." Erza assured, before her and Lucy left. "But they didn't' come back." Wendy said, "And soon it got dark." Gray sighed, "Well. . . our parents are clearly liars. You got any ideas, Natsu?" "Hey! My rocks are gone!" Natsu exclaimed, angrily looking into his now-empty pocket, he gasped and turned to Gray triumphantly, "I told you they were alive!" "There's a hole in your pocket, dumbass!" Gray argued. Natsu looked down and stuck his fingers through said hole, ". . . Oh yeah. . ." he saddened, "I loved those rocks." "Natsu, focus!" Gray yelled angrily, "We've been abandoned!" Natsu looked off miserably, "I at least wanted to say goodbye . . ." "Who knows what could happen to us out here?!" Gray continued. Natsu frowned, "Don't worry, Gray." he assured gently, "I'll take care of you!" Gray glared at the audience, "I'm gonna die in the woods with an idiot." 

The two sighed and sat on the ground in sorrow. "How many rocks did you have anyway?" Gray asked. Natsu shrugged, "I don't know. Happy gave them to me. He gave me a new one every time you and I fought to cheer me up." Gray was surprised, "That's a lot of rocks." he noted. Natsu nodded, "I miss my rocks. . . they were so pretty. All round and smooth. Like that one." he pointed to one lying onstage, "And that one." Another rock lay about a foot away from the first that fit the same description, "And that one-" "Natsu!" Gray exclaimed, jumping up, "The hole in your pocket made a trail for us to follow home!" "Hey, yeah!" Natsu stood with him, "Let's go!" Natsu moved to follow Gray offstage, but stopped to pick up the rocks. "Are you seriously bringing the rocks?" Gray complained. Natsu stood, "You're right. They belong free and in the wild." Gray groaned as Natsu followed him offstage. "I'll come back for you." he whispered to the rocks as he left.

Lucy sighed in content with her hands behind her head as she sat on a chair onstage, Erza sat in an adjoining chair, knitting calmly. "How long has it been since you heard silence, Erza?" Lucy asked. "Since before I joined the guild." the redhead admitted. Lucy sighed again, "It's nice-" Suddenly the door was kicked in and Natsu entered, "We're back!!!!" Lucy jumped from her chair, "How the hell did you- I mean- Yay!" Lucy cheered, smiling, "It's late, why don't you boys go up to bed?" "Okay!" the duo walked offstage. Once they were gone Lucy whirled on Erza, "How the hell did they get back here?!" "I don't know!" Erza replied, "We'll have to take them even further tomorrow." 

"The next day, the parents took them even further into the woods," Wendy narrated as the group walked across the stage.  "Gray, give me your bread." Natsu demanded, Gray obeyed. "Okay kids, we'll be back soon!" Lucy repeated, before once again leaving the stage with Erza. Gray immediately turned to Natsu, "Alright, let's follow the trail back home." "What?" Natsu asked, confused. "That's what you wanted my bread for, right?" Gray asked, "To make a trail back home? "No, I was just really hungry." Natsu said easily. Gray was furious, "You ate my food?!" "You gave it to me!" "Because I thought you were leading us back home! Now what are we supposed to do?!" Natsu shrugged. "I dunno." 

"The children wandered the woods for hours, but couldn't find their way home." Wendy continued. Gray and Natsu sat back to back on stage, sighing. "I'm so hungry it hurts." Gray complained. "I think my stomach is trying to eat itself." Natsu replied. Gray sighed again, "Natsu?" he glanced towards his friend teammate, "Did you ever think it would end like this?" Natsu shook his head, "No." he admitted, "I always thought I'd go out in a blazing flame of glory." "Yeah," Gray agreed, "I always thought I'd die sacrificing myself for my friends." "Well it's not like you didn't try." Natsu said, bitterly. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?!" Gray demanded. "I can't name any quest we've been on where you didn't try to sacrifice yourself! Do you want to die?!" Natsu yelled angrily. "A little bit!" Gray admitted, just as angry. "Food!" Natsu gasped and ran off. "Oh, I guess Gray's problems don't matter!" Gray exclaimed indignantly, glaring after Natsu. ". . . Is that a house made of candy?!" he asked in confusion and awe. A child-sized candy house was pushed onstage. "Where did that come from?" Carla asked. "I do't know but it  sure looks yummy!" Wendy cheered. 

The duo stared at the candy house in awe. "I call the roof!" Natsu declared, breaking a big chunk off and eating it eagerly. Gray broke off a window and began licking it, "This is the best candy I've ever had!" "Is someone eating my fucking house?!" Laxus's disgruntled and confused voice came from inside. The two froze in place. "No, it's the wind!" Natsu replied, panicking. "Natsu, you idiot!" Gray smacked his arm. Laxus exited the house, glaring, but his gaze softened when he saw who it was. The 'children', however, attempted to run away. "Hey! Hold on a minute!" Laxus called. "Are you hungry? You seem hungry. I mean, you ate the damn house. I have meat and. . ." he hesitated, "Beer?" "Laxus they're playing children!" Mira scolded. "Do I look like I know how to handle children?!" Laxus replied. 

"And the wo-uh, man let them in." Wendy explained, "But it was soon revealed that he was a witch! And he locked poor Hansel in a cage!" "I get to lock Natsu in a cage?!" asked Laxus eagerly, "I've wanted to do that for years!"  Gajeel slammed a Natsu-sized cage on the stage, "Here ya go! A nice, iron, electricity conducting cage!" Gajeel declared happily. "What?" Natsu squeaked fearfully. Gray grabbed him by his shoulders, "Well, you heard the story, Natsu, you gotta go in the cage!" he shoved Natsu into the cage, slammed the door, shut the lock and stepped back with a large grin. "This'll be fun." Laxus grinned and let lightning dance across his fingertips. The guild watched on in amusement as Natsu got electrocuted. Repeatedly. 

Natsu lay in pain at the bottom of the cage as Wendy continued, "The witch fattened Hansel up for four weeks before she finally decided to eat him. She asked Gretel to help prepare him." "Alright, climb inside the oven so I can see if it's hot enough to cook your brother in." Laxus said casually, as he gestured to a large prop oven Gajeel had made. ". . .You're a really messed up person, ya know that?" Gray asked. "Yeah, yeah, whatever, now get in the oven." Laxus pointed to the open oven door. "I don't think I'll fit." Gray confessed. "Of course you'll fit! I fit!" Laxus exclaimed. "Prove it." Gray challenged. "Fine!" Laxus climbed in and Gray slammed the door on him. 

"And so the witch died, Gretel freed her brother, and they went home to their parents, and lived happily ever after!" Wendy finished. "I don't know, I'm kind of enjoying this." Gray admitted, "Can we just keep him in there?" "NO!" Natsu yelled. "No." Makarov confirmed. "Are you sure, old man?" Laxus asked hopefully. "Yes." Makarov answered sternly, "Free him." Laxus grumbled but opened the cage. Natsu was pouting as he stomped back to his seat to hug his cat, "You guys are all jerks." 

[benevolenterrancy]

Dva/bridgette, "Built" (cuz my girl lindholm is built as fuck amiright)

last but not least of that inbox game, because I couldn’t just write a summary for this. I’ve never even considered this ship, but I am delighted.

-

“Built”Dva/Brigitte

Hana Song lay slumped across the hoodof her mech, defeated.  What was it that had finally felled thisintrepid hero, so much beloved by the South Korean people and theworld of online gaming?  A hoard of omnics, overwhelming in numbers? A final battle, glorious in its ultimate failure?  A moment ofreckless bravery that for once she wasn’t clever and lucky enough tosurvive?

That, at least, might have been moredignified.

Currently, Hana Song was laid low bya technical difficulties.

She had only been with Overwatch afew months so far, and it was both everything she could have dreamedand nothing she had expected.  They were doing so much work. Hana valued what she contributed to the front lines of the Crisis,of course, she was here first and foremost to defend her people,but… sometimes when you were getting up every morning and beingdeployed again and again before a persistent press of omnics, youbegan to feel like you weren’t making any headway.  A constant grindwith no objective in sight.  Overwatch was different.  Overwatchwasn’t just playing the game, it was rewriting the rules.  It wasexciting.  It wasfull-tilt, life-or-death, world-hanging-in-the-balance sort of work,and Hana was thriving.

Hermech, unfortunately, was not.

Because this wasn’t Overwatch of thegolden days, this wasn’t like the heroes her dad had told her storiesof as a girl.  They had no funds, no support, no legitimacy.  Winston(an actual, talking gorilla, how cool!)was sending out hooks all over the world and they were getting bites– people were slowly, covertly, trickling in, but it meant that thegreat workshops of the Gibraltar Watchpoint were almost entirelyempty.  One corner, near the massive bay doors, now housed her andher mech.  Over these months, she had been alone in her efforts torepair the damages as they appeared; she fixed what she could andignored the rest.  But now that one of the mech’s arms had gone dead(in the middle of a fight too, with everyone watching!  Uh, she musthave looked like such an amateur) she couldn’t really look the otherway anymore.  Something needed to be done, and she couldn’t figureout what it was.

In anothersection of the room, Lucio had a table that was covered in wires andtubes – for maintaining his skates and amp.  He smugly told her allabout how he’d pilfered and repurposed the tech from some companycalled Vishkar, and he at least seemed to know what he was doing. More so than her at any rate, though even he had been rather helplesswhen she’d brought her mech problems to him.  

Then there wasthat weaselly guy, Junkrat.  Hana wasn’t sure how she felt about him. He could be pretty funny, but she also couldn’t shake the feelingthat if push came to shove he wouldn’t hesitate to render her asmoldering crater.  He was given a space the furthest away fromeveryone else and very explicit orders from Winston about conduct. Because Junkrat?  He worked with explosives.  Hana didn’t know muchabout explosives beyond the “stick in mech, fire at omnic” sideof things, but she couldn’t help but feel that someone so… twitchyshouldn’t be messing with them.  She knew for a fact that he wassomeone who shouldn’t be messing with her mech.

And then therewas that short, grouchy guy, Torbjörn.  His portion of the workshopwith filled with a massive forge and huge work tables – he was theonly one who really seemed to know what he was doing in here, theonly one not self-taught or learning on the fly.  He had a tendencyto mutter when he caught anyone else trying to work in the shop, asif they were all just little kids trying to play with lego in hisworkspace.  Rude.  

Though, Hanathought, rather moodily as she kicked her feet accusingly against thehull of her mech, she did feel a bit like that right now, like a kidpretending to know what she was doing.  She was a soldier though, nota mechanic!

The fact of thematter was simple and unavoidable: the mechs weren’t made for thesort of sustained abuse.  Normally, with MEKA, they hadmicro-rotations.  They’d be deployed, hit hard, and as soon as thebattle was finished or relief was deployed, the previous pilotsreturned so that the mechs could be serviced, strengthened, andreadied for the next deployment.  After a certain number ofrotations, the entire mech would be replaced with a new one.  Themechs were made to take damage, but they were still complicated,delicate machines and for that sort of tank role to be maintained,the mech must be as well.

Sowhat options did that leave her?  She was, technically,on loan to Overwatch.  Sort of.  It was very hush hush, under thetable.  Overwatch wasn’t supposed to be operating at all, but someonein the South Korean government (or military, or something) must havedecided that if the omnic-crushing force of old was looking toreassert itself, it would help to have Overwatch as friends.  Hanawas very aware this was conditional though.  If it looked like thingswere going to go bad with Overwatch, or if it became too complicatedor too inconvenient, all association would be denied and she wouldget pulled… and that had quickly become an unacceptable outcome. She needed to be here. So she really didn’t want to ruffle feathers with HQ by requestingher mech be taken halfway across the world for servicing.  So thatleft figuring it out herself, or capitulating and asking Torbjörn. He got a funny look in his eye when he stared at her mech though, andso far she had avoided letting him feel it up.

It might be acase of the lesser of two evils though, she had to admit.

She was savedfrom needing to confront this sad reality by the sound of theworkshop doors sliding open.  Without looking up, she called out“That you, Lucio?  Please tell me you had an epiphany because Idon’t know what to do.”

“Uh, sorry todisappoint, but I’m not Lucio,” said a clearly strained voice, itsaccent one that sounded familiar but which Hana couldn’t quite place. Given that this was a secretive paramilitary base on a mountain thata bare handful of people had access to, this was alarming.

It was with thisshock that Hana jerked up and swung herself around, peering down fromher mech to stare at this strange newcomer.  It didn’t actually tellher much, because the person was almost completely hidden behind atowering stack of strangely shaped hunks of metal.

“Who are you?”demanded Hana, before she could think better of it.

“Brigitte,”said the person as she staggered across the room.  “BrigitteLindholm.”  It was strange, there was something asalmost-but-not-quite familiar about her name as about her accent.

Brigitte wasstill talking though, “Is Reinhardt in here?”

“Who?”

“Ofcourse he isn’t,” she grumbled.  “He saidhe’d bring the rest of the armour in here so I could get set up andstart repairs but no,of course not.  Uh, knowing him he’s found some old friend.  I washoping to avoid that until we got set up, or else I’m never going topry him away.  You have no idea how much that man can talk.”

Hana slipped downfrom the hull of her mech and landed heavily on the ground.  “Who’sReinhardt?  Are you new members?  Do you need any help with that?”

Brigitteseemed to take the barrage of questions in stride.  “Massivebonehead,” she said.  “Also just massive, trust me, you can’tmiss him.  And, uh, yeah, kind of new memebers, I guess?  Lena justdropped us off like twenty minutes ago.  I mean, technicallyReinhardt used to be a member before and he’s coming back – again,because he’s a bonehead – andso I guess I’m here too.  Dad’s going to throw a fitbut I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.  And oh god, yesplease.”

Hanawas already reaching for whatever was in this new woman’s arms and sodidn’t register the following warning: “Be careful, this stuff ispretty heavy–” until she’d tried to heft one of the pieces, wascompletely thrown off by exactly howheavy it was, and promptly dropped it on her toe.

It was a goodthing she was the only one who spoke Korean on the base; her tonguehadn’t exactly been squeaky clean as a professional gamer but joiningthe army had not helped matters and there was nothing like anunspeakably number of kilograms of metal falling on your foot toencourage one to show off that sort of vocabulary.

“Sorry,” saidBrigitte, “let me just…”

With a deafeningclattering, the rest of the woman’s load was dumped onto the nearestwork table, and Hana got her first real look at Brigitte Lindholm. She promptly forgot about the pain in her foot.

Ittook her a moment to remember to close her mouth because wow…which had pretty much been the first thought in her head.

Thesecond thought had been: arms. Because Brigitte definitely had those.  Two of them.  Two very,very, very musclyarms. Yes sir.

Hana doublechecked to make sure her mouth was closed.

Brigitte was alsogetting her first look at the room.

“Wow,I’ve heard stories of this place but it’s really nothing likeactually being in here, you know?  Seriously, there is so muchroom… nothing likethe Ironclad Guild, but considering I’ve been working out of a truckfor the past few years this is like – whoa!  Whoseis that?”

At first Hanaassumed she must have caught sight of Lucio’s gently thrumming amp,which was partially disemboweled and casting beats of yellow andgreen light across the ceiling, or the terrifying toxic waste dumpthat was Junkrat’s corner, so she felt herself swelling with pridewhen she realized Brigitte’s gaze was hard-locked on her mech.

“Mine,” shesaid, as if it was no big deal, what girl doesn’t have a spare,million dollar, top-of-the-line battle mech sitting around.  “I’mHana.  Hana Song?  Top pilot in MEKA?”

“Ohmy god, I’ve never seen one up close before,” said Brigitte, alittle breathlessly.  “These are amazing. Like a mix between power armour and proper battle ship – you’vegot the protective hull of an armoured assault vehicle, but way moremobile than anything imaginable in that class… it’s even got theCrusader beat on that front.  It’s almost as versatile as powerarmour, but it’s not going to crumple like paper towel if it getscaught in a firefight.  These are brilliant. And adapting them to be piloted by people – MEKA is seriouslyworking on a different level with these.”  She rounded on Hana, hereyes gleaming with fascination and admiration; Hana beamed rightback.  “And you actually pilot it?  It must be unbelievablydifficult… it was originally designed to be run as a drone afterall, the sheer number of functions for one human to keep on topof…”

Hanashrugged with as much modesty as she could muster.  “I was thenumber one StarCraft player for three years in a row.  That’s whythey went for gamers, you know?  Better response times, multitasking,on the fly strategizing, working in teams and solo…  It was apretty natural transition, when you’ve got a knack for it,” shesaid, leaning against one of the mech’s pink legs.  This would lookmuch more impressive if she was actually wearing her flightsuitrather than the grease-covered work jeans and a baggy old sweatshirtthat used to be her father’s, with a faded picture of a droolingmurloc printed on it.

Thenagain, Brigitte was wearing what looked like steel-toed boots and ashirt with the sleeves (gloriously, gloriously)torn off so maybe Hana could pass this off as an aesthetic and notjust grubby laziness.  She wouldn’t know unless she tried, right?  Sowith the same sort of confident bravado that Hana faced most of theproblems in her life, she jumped in feet first and hoped for a goodlanding.

“You,uh… you want me to show you around?”

“Absolutely!”

Hanacould have crowed with delight.  Nailed it. Of course, the next problem was that this was a compact,single-person mech and there was only so much “showing around”that you could do, but Hana would happily use it to stall for timeand she thought out her next smooth step.  Besides, she loved talkingabout her baby.  With practiced ease, Hana used one of the mech’sarms to swing underself up onto first it’s crouched leg, and then soshe was perched in the crook of its elbow.  Brigitte followed suit,and Hana tried to resist watching the swell of her biceps as her feetsearched for purchase on the mech so she could haul herself up.

Andso Hana talked Brigitte through the ins and outs of the battle mech. Brigitte peered in at the complex array of controls inside thecockpit, listened in rapt fascination as Hana described its featuresand the battles she’s seen with it.

Soonit became much less about impressing a really gorgeous woman, andmore just… talking.  Brigitte was really, really nice.  She laughedeasily, and had a sharp, snide sense of humour, and kept up with Hanaeffortlessly as she got into the more interesting minutia of themech’s features.  Oh, lots of people were interested in here theexploits of Hana Song, South Korean MEKA defender, and they would oohand aah at all theright parts when she told stories about being flung into the ocean bya towering, twenty foot brute of an omnic, or when she had had notchoice but to self-destruct her own mech, barely escaping that onewith her life, but she had never had someone stop her mid-tale to askabout the actual model variants of said omnic or what expulsionmechanism the mech used that managed to get her clear of such ablast.  It wasn’t even annoying to be interrupted – it wasexciting.  Likesomeone was taking the time not to speed run the conversation but topoke around and unlock all the secrets along the way.  Or something.

Completelyoblivious to the emotions banging around in Hana’s head, Brigittepeered at the newly upgraded missile system Hana had been pointingout and said, “I knew I was behind on the latest and greatest,since I was following the big guy around the boonies for the past fewyears boonies, but how did I miss this? MEKA must have gotten a new energy core if they managed to pullsomething like this off!  Keeping this thing mobile, flight-capable,and defensive was already pretty much clocking their core as much asyou could safely expect… how the heck they did keep all that up andadd a missile system?  I mean, you can’t just go make the core biggerwith a living pilot in there, that’d be getting way to chancy.”

Hana rolled hereyes.  She’d commented about the mech’s wimpy power core before, senther complaints as far up the chain as she could manage, only to get areply back telling her to stop being a fool-hardy daredevil thatwanted to throw her life away and to smarten up… or, well, theprofessional, military equivalent.  It seemed to her the only way abigger power core would really be that much of a compromise was ifyou were letting omnics blow you up, and Hana had not intention ofletting omnics blow her up, thanks, so really it was a non-issue. High risk, high reward.  But whatever.

“Nope, sameold, same old,” she told Brigitte.  “It was more of a remodeling. I’m the first to test it out.  We diverted some of the power thatwould have otherwise been used by the defense matrix and fed it tothe missile systems.”

Brigitte’seyebrows went up.  “What?  You’re compromising defense for this? But the defense matrix is one of the things that actually makes amech remotely viable against heavy projectile damage, otherwiseyou’re just a big,” she gestured vaguely to the mech, “pinktarget waiting to blow!”

“Pssh,no.  We’re supposedto be mobile, that’s the whole point!  We’re not there to shield,we’re there to hit hard and fast and get out before too much damageis laid down!  The defense matrix just makes us sitting ducks –with the missiles we can actually attack from a distance beforeneeding to get up close.  Waybetter strategy, trust me.”

Brigitte hummed,but seemed to be considering it.

“Any chance Icould see a test run?” asked Brigitte.  “I’ve only ever seenvideo.  I’d love to see it in person.”

“Absolutely!”said Hana, without hesitation.  How was she supposed to say no tohaving the admiring gaze of a cute girl on her while she did what shedid best?

And then came thecrushing recollection of why she was here in the shop in the firstplace.  The arms, while not as crucial for movement as the thrustersystem, still acted a little like rudders; they were directionconnected to the yokes which controlled all movement.

…Still, it didmean flying the mech would still be doable, even with one arm down. A little clunky, maybe, but she’d managed to get herself through thatlast battle with it down, right?  And it’s not like there would evenbe Talon agents trying to shoot her down this time.  It would befine.  Completely fine and totally work it.

She hesitatedagain.  Common sense was screaming at her to listen for five seconds.

Because on theother hand, she couldn’t help but suspect that an genuine, bona-fidemechanic might not think it was brave or daring or romantic to getinto a damaged craft and push it even harder rather than runningmaintenance.

Damn her and herbad luck.  She was going to have to say “no sorry, I broke thesuper cool mech and am grounded” and watch this amazing woman say“oh no problem” and then remember she had her own work and leaveand never get another chance to talk to her.

Better thannever getting another chance to talk to her because you fly yourselfoff the cliff face and burn to deaths on the rocks below, hermind rebuked, in a voice that sounded frustratingly like her father.

“Actually, Ican’t,” Hana admitted bitterly.  “I’m having some issues with oneof the arms.  Kinda goes past my expertise.  I’m probably going toneed to contact MEKA and see about getting it replaced or something.”

“Well you’realready doing better than Reinhardt on that front,” said Brigittedryly, with a nod towards the pile of metal she’d hauled in.  “Youhave no idea how long I’ve been hounding on him to take a break andget some actual replacement parts for that scrap metal he keepsinsisting on strapping himself into.  But it you like, I could take alook at the mech with you?  Maybe we can figure out what’s wrongtogether.  No idea when Reinhardt’s going to actually show up and Ican’t work until I’ve got the rest of the armour, so I’ve got time. We could make an afternoon of it, get to know each other a littlebetter.  And give me an excuse to dig into some really awesome tech,”she said cheerfully.

Hana couldn’tactually believe her luck.  This was too much.  “You know how oneof these is built?” she asked.

Brigitteshrugged.  “Not really, no.  Not besides for the basic schematicsthat anyone can access with a bit of digging.  But I didn’t know howthe Crusader worked either besides for some of Dad’s stories, and most  of those were just complaining about how Reinhardt treated itand which bits he’d needed to bang out today.  I’m pretty good withthis sort of stuff.  Let me poke around a bit, and I’ll bet I canfigure out what’s wrong and how we can get you mobile again.  …Um,you okay?”

Hana wasn’t eventrying to hide her staring.  What were the odds – she was lamentingabout needing to contact MEKA and risk losing everything over thisstupid mech, and here comes with woman with her pretty eyes andpretty hair and pretty arms and pretty impressive knowledge ofhigh-tech combat systems offering to fix all her problems.

“I couldkiss you,” said Hana, words shooting cheerfully past her mentalfilter and straight to her mouth.  

Brigitte laughed,but Hana still hadn’t decided if she was joking or not when theworkshop door opened and a voice boomed.

“Brigitte! There you are!”

Brigitte roundedon the speaker, hands on her hips.  “You mean right where I’msupposed to be?  Yeah!  Where were you?”

This had to beReinhardt.  When Brigitte had said massive, she’d been understatingit.  The man had to be nearly as tall as her mech, with a shaggywhite beard and huge, blinding grin.  Tucked under his arm like itwas a jacket on a warm day, was more of the insanely heavy armourBrigitte had been lugging when she first got here.

As Reinhardtmoved further into the room, Hana caught sight of who was with him –oh joy, Torbjörn.

“Brigitte!”he called.

Brigitte eyesimmediately locked on him, and the stern face she’d been directly atReinhardt immediately melted.  “Papa!” she called, and racedover.

Papa?

Hanawatched with a sort of mute horror as Brigitte wrapped her father –her father – up in ahug and pressed her face to his shoulder, clearly ecstatic to see herfamily – her family– again.  Torbjörn was patting her back warmly, and theconversation quickly switched to a low, warm Swedish.

That would explain why the accent had been so familiar, just said in a different voice. That would explain why the name was so familiar, though she’d only heard Torbjörn’s surname the one time, when they’d first been introduced.

Atsome point during this, Reinhardt had ended up closer to Hana, givingthe other two space.  He introduced himself, and offered Hana amassive hand to shake; his grip was bone-crushing, but Hana was stillto shocked by all the revelations she had been hit with in the pasthalf an hour to care.

“Theyhave a big family,” he told her companionably.  “They would neveradmit it, but I think both have been missing it.  Very protectiveover each other.”  He chuckled a deep, rumbling chuckle.  “It’s agood thing I brought her back in one piece, I’d hate to think whatTorby would do if I hadn’t.”

Hanamade a vague noise of acknowledgement.

Brigitteand Torbjörn were no longer hugging, and by the tone it sounded likethings had descended into some sort of disagreement over something. Hana choice to take that moment to make herself scarce.  If Brigittewas sticking around, she could always find her later for engineeringhelp.

-

Hana Song layslumped across the length of Lucio’s bed, defeated.

“Were you…flirting vicariously through your mech?” said Lucio from where hewas perched on the edge of his desk, amusedly watching the unexpectedguest who had thrown herself into his room half an hour ago.

“You’re reallynot focusing on the important part of this story,” Hana told thebedsheets.

“Right.  She’sapparently Torbjörn’s kid.  Which is… bad?”

“Yesit’s bad!  It’s sobad!  Can you imagine needing to go up to Torbjörnand saying ‘Hi, your daughter’s arms are builtand I would love for her to cradle me sensually in them’?  Huh?  No! I’m doomed!”

“Uh,yeah, no, I would really not recommend that being your opener forlike… anything, ever.  Especially if you want to actually get adate with her first.”

Hanagroaned pitifully into the mattress.

Hoppingdown from the table, Lucio gave Hana’s shoulders a sympathetic pat.

“Justdon’t think about how awkward breakfast is going to be tomorrow, whenyou’re sitting across from him and trying not to project how into hisdaughter you are,” he said cheerfully.

Agroan.  Hana Song was doomed.

[umisabaku]

Hi there! Can you write something for Bungou Stray Dogs (I'm assuming you watch it too haha)? Can you write one about Atsushi and the character you ship him with (*crosses fingers for either Dazai or Akutagawa*)? I want to see how you write about the precious cinnamon roll in your amazing writing. THANKYOUTHANKYOUTJANKYIUTHANKYOU !!!!!

NakajimaAtsushi finds the Third Year face down in the fountain on his first day ofschool. In retrospect, he really wishes he’d just left him there.

Itreally should have been a warning sign when all other students pretended theydidn’t see anything.

*

“Thankyou, Atsushi-kun,” Osamu Dazai says exuberantly. Atsushi is on his third currybread, purchased by Dazai in thanks, and still doesn’t know any better. “WhileI certainly think it would have been better if I had just been left to thewatery arms of death, I do appreciate your gesture.”

“Err,”Atsushi starts. “You’re welcome?”

“No,no, I mean it, your presence was quite fortuitous,” Dazai says, with agleam in his eye that Atsushi still doesn’t know to be alarmed about. “Iactually wanted to meet more First Years. In fact, that was originally what Iwas out there to do, before I the siren song of the water called me to thegrave.”

Atthis point, Atsushi was at least beginning to realize that he’d rescued a crazyperson and is beginning to get the faintest sense of impending doom. “Oh, well,happy to help! I should probably be getting to class now—”

“Nonsense,no one ever goes to class on time,” Dazai says, waving this aside. “Now,Atsushi-kun, a very serious question for you: What do you know aboutbasketball?”

Atsushichokes on his bread.

*

“Oh,no, no, see, I couldn’t, really, I’m not athletic at all—”

“Nonsense,Atsushi-kun! You seem quick on your feet, with nice reflexes, I’m sure you’re aquick learning.”

“I’m reallynot,” Atsushi says desperately, “I’ve never been in any kind of sports clubbefore! I was planning on joining the literature club, or, or, maybe the animeclub—”

“Allthe more reason to try now,” Dazai says, with a magnanimous expression, “Lotsof people don’t try out a sport until high school. Ah, youth! The time of newbeginnings, and experimentation. You’ll have so much fun with basketball,Atsushi-kun! And we’re already at the gym, so you might as well try it out,yes?”

“But,but—” Dazai had essentially dragged him here, and he was still trying to makehis escape, wiggling as Dazai held firmly onto his collar. “But I wouldn’t beany good at it! There’s no point in someone like me—”

“Idiot!”

Thenew voice causes Atsushi to jump, but Dazai still has him firmly by the collarso he still can’t go anywhere.

“Youwere supposed to be back twenty minutes ago! I swear to god, if you were tryingto kill yourself again I’m going to throttle you.”

“Don’tsay that, Kunikida-kun, I only want to die with a beautiful woman,” Dazai says.

Thenew man rolls his eyes. “At least you brought in a new recruit.”

“I’mnot a recruit!” Atsushi cries out, hoping to find a voice of sanity. “I’venever played basketball before! I shouldn’t be here!”

“Practicestarts promptly after school. Don’t be late or there will be consequences,”Kunikida threatens.

“But—”

“Andno whining. Or Coach will make us do extra laps.”

Atsushiwhimpers. It seems like a useless affair to try and point out that technically,they should all be in class right now.

A/N: Ahhh, thank you so much, anon-friend! I amvery sorry this has taken so long. I’m not sure I know the BSD characters wellenough to properly write them, and I still have no idea who I ship anyone within that show! I keep going back and forth. Anyway, awhile back I was writingthis recommendation for BSD and I mentioned that it sorta had a sports animefeel to it, and ever since then it was like, “oh man, I would totally writesports anime AU for Bungou Stray Dogs.” Please imagine, if you will, the epicrivalry with the other high schools (Port Mafia High? Guild Academy?) Atsushican either have a romance with the attractive Third Year or his rival on theother team, fellow First Year Akutagawa =D

[chameleonspell]

182: apology

A mushroom, its broad cap fending off the noon-day sun, on the outskirts of somewhere completely different. "I don't know what you're so upset about. You were worried about money, and it'll be far cheaper to sail from here than from Sadrith Mora. With less chance of recognition!" Julan remained silent. He leaned back against the mushroom, arms braced on either side of his neck, fingers locked together at the nape. His eyes were closed. "Listen, how was I supposed to know that was Gothren's bedroom window?"

Julan opened his eyes, but didn't focus them beyond his elbows. He drew a long, serrated breath, and held it. "You didn't want to be stuck up there forever, did you?" Julan released the breath, in something between a growl and a groan. "Honestly, I'm amazed this sort of thing doesn't happen more often in a Telvanni town, levitation being what it is. I can't believe they got so unreasonably... unreasonable about a simple..." Beyond Julan's elbows, Iriel's eyes veered back and forth, creased in worried scrutiny. Grimacing, he changed tack: "I'm sorry. I got carried away." Julan closed his eyes again. "All right, perhaps you did, technically speaking." Iriel was hunching slightly, to remain on eye level. Monitoring the results of his words, and currently far from satisfied. "Again, sorry. I'll warn you next time." He sucked his lower lip for a moment. "That is to say, I'll ask your permission. In writing, two weeks in advance. And... sorry. How's your shoulder, can I massage it, or...? No? No, I see, all right, never mind." He retracted his hand, and, after a moment's consideration, shuffled back a few paces. "It's just... I'd read about scrolls of windform, but never actually tried one. Levitating invisibly at high speed always sounded like the perfect way to travel. And it was, for, well. Most of it." He was smiling, now, gaze drifting into space. "I must confess, I've even had... certain... fantasies about..." The abrupt renewal of Julan's glare dragged him back down to earth. "Well. Obviously I wasn't going to suggest... of course not. Sorry. Never mind." He straightened up, and took a drag on the kreshweed roll-up he was twitching between his fingers. "By the way, I know you dropped that helm on purpose, so don't even try denying it." Julan finally lowered his arms. "Since when do you smoke that stuff, anyway?" "Since I needed it to reduce my stress levels from dealing with you, sweetheart. Besides, it gives my hands something to do that isn't illusion spells." Julan eyed the kreshweed, suspiciously. After a while, he sighed, and let Iriel pass it to him, though upon inhalation, he immediately choked, and thrust it back, eyes streaming. A little later, Julan said, out of what had now become a mostly companionable silence: "So. Two Dremora." Iriel's mouth quirked, before he replied: "Perks of being a Telvanni Mage-Lord, I suppose. Or just not giving a fuck about arcane ethics." "Same thing." Julan cricked his neck sideways with a wrenching pop. Ire didn't even wince, his eyes glazed and distant. "Two Dremora, though." Julan snorted. "You wouldn't know what to do with two Dremora!" "I would, you know." "Send them back to Oblivion with proper shirts on, because you're so arcanely ethical?" "...Quite." Iriel wandered out of the mushroom's shadow to survey the Tel Aruhn docks again. The ship they wanted was preparing to depart, but they thought it safest to embark at the last minute, to avoid the captain making too many awkward enquiries. The sails were still half-set, so Ire returned to Julan's side. "Last chance to change your mind," he told him. "But I really think asking the Urshilaku for advice is best. They play by the rules; Daedra don't." "Yeah." A sigh. "I just... you were right, last time we made this trip. When you said I was avoiding them. I know what they'll say, and none of it's new, but..." "I know. Don't worry. I have a plan, of sorts." Ire found Julan's hand and squeezed it. "My brain may be a jumbled mess of the fractured shards of my intellect, but it's at your service. And I have a few ideas that might work." "See, you're not fractured all the time. How's the magic?" "About the level it was when I was ten, but it's something. I suppose perh--" They froze, as a distant explosion shook the towers around them. Passers by, used to Telvanni districts, merely paused, glanced around for signs of immediate local catastrophe, shrugged and walked on. "D'you think they--" Julan began, but Iriel shook his head. "Don't think. Let's just go. The boat should be ready in a few minutes." "What's in that sack of yours, anyway?" "Hopefully nothing breakable, after what it went through on our descent." "Yeah, well. I guess anything not in it is gone for good, now." Seizing the distraction, Iriel opened the sack from Tusamircil. "Clothes, mostly," he reported. "Some of them are even yours." "Is my ash-scarf there? I've been looking for that." "No. Because you left that in my room before, and I burned it." "Wh--?! ...Oh. OK." A snort of laughter from Iriel, as he pulled out a cream silk sleeve. "Look what she's put in here! As if I'll need this, where we're going! Still, no sense saving it for a special occasion, now. I might as well wear it in the Ashlands as anywhere, I suppose." "Is my stupid noble shirt in there, too, then? Or... hey, what about my other pair of guarskins?" Iriel didn't reply. He had found the scroll. Uneven lettering on rough parchment, fastened with green twine. Julan saw his face. "Hey, are you...? Look, I know Helende said you should read it, but maybe now isn't... I mean, what if it's... are you sure you're ready to...?" But Iriel, his fingers helpless as clockwork, was already tugging on the end of the twine. To Iriel. I have began this letter four times. Each time I have wrote the wrong words so much I have ended by dropping the paper over the side. This is the last bit of parchement. My mistaiks must all have to stand this time and you must bare them. Purhaps this is rigte and best. I am sorry for my writing being so falty. I hope you may take my menings. I am at sea, 35.7 teills WTW of the Dancing Strait with our nose to the sun and the wind to our back. I have come further than I have bin in all my dawns. But even were the Argerial not with us, I would not let it prevent me now. I dont set myself wiser than the breath of our ancestors, but I am resolvd. Lightbringer knows our course. I can feel the joy of it in the wood. Befour sun rise I had seen more tears than I thouht still left these many years, but now the joy is in me too and I know the stars speak truly and the winds blow wise. It is time to leve. There was a time to stay and keep to old words, but that is ended. She said you are in Morrowind. She said she wrote you. I thouht you was in a Ciirodil jail. I asked why you was out and if they found you was innosent like I thouht. I asked when you was coming home. She said never. She said it made no matter. She said some people carry their prisons inside themselves and so never walk free. It struck me as how she was rigte. I put her a letter in her Astrology folder. She opens it not more than once a week by my eyes. Purhaps it will even pass some moons until she finds it. I dont pretend as I know who you are these dawns be it theif or murderer or both or none. I dont know if your blood runs fair or foul as she says. I only know it runs in me the same, and I would look on what you have made of it. Purhaps as you see no call to find me, but if you will it, and if Auri-El preserve us on this long haul, I mean to reach Ebonheart by your birth month. From [a blotched mess of illegibly crossed out words] Murecano [more crossing out, this somewhat legible]. When Iriel finally found his tongue, it had turned corpse-dry, coating every word in dust. "He... he wrote 'Murecano of Lillandril', and then he... crossed out the 'of Lillandril' part." "Is it an apology?" "Not exactly. I think... he's trying to tell whether I want one." "Do you?" "I don't know. I don't know anything. This is more words together than I've had from him my entire life." As Ire spoke, he rolled the parchment tighter and tighter, and reknotted the twine several times. "Fuck." He exhaled sharply, and pushed it into the bottom of his bag. "I don't have time to mess myself up over this, right now. Can you just... hug me really, really, hard for a moment, and then we'll run for the boat." The Ahemmusa-bound members of the Thieves' Guild will no doubt turn up again in due course, but as Iriel and Julan leave the Telvanni lands, perhaps some final mention of the others is in order, insofar as details are known, before all trails were lost. Rissinia recovered from his wounds, and went to seek his fortune (and a better range of cake ingredients) in Cyrodiil. Fandus changed his name, and settled in Caldera, where he married the governor's daughter, and entered local politics. There were rumours in Sadrith Mora that the Altmer woman known as Big Helende was swallowed by a giant beetle, which then flew out to sea, leaving nothing but a trail of maniacal laughter and badly-embroidered cushions. But, people would usually add, this is clearly ridiculous. Muriel Sette and Erer Darothril simply vanished. But the latter has appeared and disappeared many times in Tamrielic history, and no doubt he will do so again. Back, then, briefly, to a ship, heading north across the Sea of Ghosts, and two tired elves, slumped on the deck. "How're you feeling?" "My head's cold. You're all right, you have hair." "Yeah, mostly in my mouth, with this wind. D'you want to go below?" "No." A pause. "I wish I had that stupid fucking hat he knitted me, though." "Maybe he--" "Don't. I still don't know." A longer pause, as the clouds scudded by overhead. "He offered to teach me to knit, once, forever and ever ago. I couldn't see the point, since he already made me things, and I had important books to read." "No knitting lessons in Sweating Slutbags of--" "Shut your awful face, I'm remi-fucking-niscing. I... gods, I just... I wish I'd realised he was only trying to find an activity to share with me that wasn't some outdoorsy thing, which he knew I hated. I thought knitting looked boring, but now I wonder if it'd be soothing, give my fingers something mechanical to do, when my brain stops working." "Better than that poisonous stuff you keep smoking." "Yes, well. Even if I could knit, everything close to wool I've seen in Morrowind is rough and horrible. No doubt it's made out of scathecraw, or something that used to be inside a beetle." A snort. "And knowing me, all I'd succeed in making would be one big tangled knot." North, still north, as the sky began to shade. "D'you want me to shave my head, then, for company?" "No!" "Sure? I don't mind. It's getting too long, anyway." "It is not too long! And don't you dare shave it. Long hair has its uses." Catching Ire's smirk, but not the reason, Julan slid him a suspicious look. "Oh, really?" With a sudden grab, Iriel caught a handful, and yanked Julan's head into his lap. "Really," he told Julan's broadening grin. "Now sit the fuck up, I'm going to braid it." next: 183: proof previous: 181: communication beginning: 1: numb

[mageintime]

I have a commission I’m supposed to do but I need to avoid some Emotional Processing so I did Yumi’s outfit sheet instead 

Character Bio/Design notes under the cut

Name: Yumi Welkenmit 

Age: 17~ish (16 when it starts. About 18 when it ends)

Origin World: Lotefh

Hometown:  Morkenford

Tarot Card: The Star (Haven’t done it yet though!)

Abilities: Mortal God powers, Summoning magic, Extreme Organising: Roommate Edition, Cross-Dimensional Summoning, Planet-bound God summoning (She summons shit, ok. She’s a witch)

Hobbies: Cooking, Keeping Mel Together, Being a Giant Nerd

Other notes: Is Hella Gay*

*I normally leave my OC’s sexualities (and genders, even) as a kind of shrug and a hand wave, but Yumi is Hella Gay. This is a Fact. 

Personality: Organised to the extreme but very friendly, Yumi tends to get along easily with most people, though part of this is simply because she tends to naturally adapt her actions to whoever she is speaking to. Despite coming from a relatively conservative hometown, she tries very hard to unlearn her past prejudices, especially after being accepted into a notably diverse technical high school. In addition to this, she is very studious (One of the traits that lead her to being Mel’s assigned roommate), and loves cooking. 

Also, she is super fucking squeamish. She has 0 tolerance for gore.

Backstory: Coming from a very small town in the middle of nowhere, Yumi was given a scholarship for the aforementioned technical high school, and moved into a dorm there wherein she meets her Weird Rommate™ , Melina  Vonderheide. As they and their friend group try to go about their high school life, things slowly being to go more and more awry as a civil war (And something more sinister being pushed along by a particularly vindictive fae) brews in the background. This finally comes to a head during a festival, thrusting Yumi into a deeper plot involving things waaaaaay above her pay grade as she struggles to keep her friends and family alive in a war she can’t solve. 

Outfit Notes:

Street Clothes (”Normal” Outfit): The default outfit I use most often for Yumi, which is based on old designs for her, and which she wears during her outings in the early parts of her story. The boat neck dress is just a Thing I used to do, but the outfit is mostly about the accessories, which she retains for a lot of her outfits. In this, she is wearing her flight gloves (As she is taught how to fly at one point by one of her friends, Newtivani), two necklaces (One is from her father, the other is the equivalent of a fashion statement), her Lir, and her bag.  

A Lir, in Yumi’s culture, is a traditional garment worn by mages, which describes a number of things about the person who wears it (Such as rank, family, main school of magical study, or guild). Basic ones consist only of the disk with a single strap, but more straps and embellishments are added according to accomplishment and ranking (They can also be different colours). Yumi is wearing her personal Lir in most of her outfits, and her school Lir with her uniform. Her personal Lir, in short form, says that she is a summoner, and that she is moderately proficient (Having gained one strap from passing “Lower” schooling, and one from a government proficiency test). Her school Lir, meanwhile, only says that she is a student, and that she has passed her “Lower” schooling. Lir also come in two forms, with the hip one being the most common, and unisex; a second type, which is worn around the wrists, is occasionally worn by boys and young men (though most older men wear the hip style, unless it is inconvenient to do so). 

School Uniform: Yumi’s school uniform was difficult to design, as I wanted it to be magic school-y, but not too standard. This is very hard. Do you know how many people have done the magic highschool thing? Let me tell you, it’s a lot. When 12 year old me decided this was a great idea 10 years ago, it was still fresh(er). Not now. Anyway, her school’s uniforms come with a built-in colour system, similar to how the Lir work, although with a more archaic colour guide (Hence the disparity between her personal Lir and her uniform jacket colour). 

Here’s what the uniform looks like, btw. I do not apologise in any way for the MSPaint job. 

The hair stripes were the result of a misfired spell, but Yumi liked them enough that she kept them until she had to pretend to be a normal person while at Omegani’s house (and then immediately put them back once she left). 

“I went into a dungeon with some buddies and a teacher and almost died” Outfit, or, as I like to call it, Fellsteff Exploration Gear: Exactly what it says on the tin. It turns into a fantasy JRPG for all of 10 minutes, because that’s just how I am

Complimentary Osentishu Outfit: Because when your friend is a princess and you crash on her couch you get a lot of Sweet Benefits. 

Like full maid service

It’s the best vacation you’ve had in your life

The food was amazing

Too bad you almost died (but hey, that’s the norm by this point). She also taught you how to use your new Mortal God powers, so that was pretty nice of her.  

Wear what you want to the Apocalypse: 

Navy Jackets are IN

Throw on clothes you had laying around because most of your belongings are inaccessible now 

Pants are a GO

Now you gotta unfreeze the timeline. Also, extra-universal forces are invading. Fun times!

[starcitizenprivateer]

On The Run, pt. 2

Part One of the story can be read here.

Alex leaned over the railing to look down at the sprawling plaza below. Streams of Banu flowed in and around the stalls and shops that crowded the marketplace. The near deafening noise was a constant presence. Sellers shouted proudly about their wares, shrewd traders loudly haggled over sips of sloma, while young runners darted about trying to lure potential customers back to their Souli’s Merchantman where the finest fuel cyclers or crog berries or whatever it was they happened to be selling was waiting for just the right buyer.

And even over all that noise Alex could still hear her stomach rumble.

It seemed the one thing that wasn’t for sale on the Bacchus flotilla was a decent breakfast. After a harrowing experience with a ‘Human Breakfast Special’ that had resulted in a shallow dish filled with sliced hot dogs and popcorn covered in what she could only describe as very thick orange juice, Alex had sworn off eating till she could get back to the few ready meals still safely tucked away inside the Belligerent Duck’s stores.

That would have to wait though. Pushing her hunger aside, Alex searched the crowds below for anything suspicious. Which, when you’re inside a Banu flotilla, is sort of like looking for uptight swegs when on Earth. More specifically, she was looking for any undercover Advocacy Agents or bounty hunters who had the gall to follow them into Banu territory.

Typically, the Advocacy would pursue a thief for a system, maybe two, before they called back their resources and left it to the Bounty Hunting Guild to chase the culprit down. It wasn’t that the Advocacy weren’t eager to see justice done, they just had more important things to spend their time and efforts on (like vicious outlaw gangs and crazed serial killers). It was why the Empire relied so heavily on the bounty system in the first place. Doubly so when the jurisdiction crossed into the Banu Protectorate. With a high enough price, you could have hundreds of bounty hunters searching for free and only have to pay the person who collected. It saved time and credits.

The Advocacy’s focus was on big fish, and Alex had worked hard at staying a medium fish at best.

Yet, her and Mas’ escape from Terra had proven to be anything but typical. Instead of having to deal with the normal gaggle of cocksure guilders fumbling all over themselves to get paid, the Advocacy had mobilized dozens of Agents across multiple systems in one of the biggest dragnets she had ever seen. Every jump point had been swarming. Plus, there had been the daily dispatches encouraging citizens to share information with the authorities. Why was it that law-abiding types were always so bored they couldn’t just mind their own damn business?

The Duck could barely stop to refuel without some good Samaritan recognizing them from the wanted posters plastered all over the spec. Mas had to work overtime blocking or delaying comms until they were away, and even then, they still had to fight their way free more times than was healthy. They had always pulled through, but only by the slimmest of margins. Their Mercury had the scars to prove it.

On top of that, Alex had been forced to call in just about every outstanding favor she had. In Pyro, a crew that owed them for a records wipe had agreed to tangle with the bounty hunters who had cornered them there. Though, to be honest, she suspected they would have done it for free with the amount of joy they seemed to take in the fight. In Tram, Alex not only had to wipe Old Mac’s debt clear to get him to help distract the Advos tailing them, but now they owed him a favor. And knowing the gummer, he was likely to milk it for all its worth. A problem for another day.

All in all, they had been pursued across seven systems and hadn’t been able to rest for a moment. Well, Mas barely slept on a good day so he seemed relatively unperturbed by the whole experience. In fact, having the chance to coordinate an intrusion on the Meridian Transit network in Garron had the hacker humming louder than she had ever heard him. And admittingly, Alex had laughed herself watching the hacked starliner routes stymy their pursuers. But that had been days ago. Now, here she was in Bacchus, tired, hungry, surrounded by a hive of Banu, and she could tell that her brain was far from firing with all thrusters.

Something about this job wasn’t adding up. Being paid to delete files at Behring instead of stealing them was strange enough, but now with the way the law had been after them? Even with a big player like Behring involved the response had been above and beyond. Alex felt like she was staring at a big red warning sign, but she was so exhausted she couldn’t read it.

What she really needed was about a month on Cassel with nothing to do but float, drink, flirt with Navy, and spend all her hard-earned credits.

Speaking of which, Alex brought up her mobi to check the time. Only a half hour until they met with Mr. Grouse and received the rest of their payment. Pushing herself up from the rail, she turned and headed towards the docking tube that connected Donosi Souli to the rest of the flotilla structure. Hopefully, Mas had been able to make progress on untangling the project data they had secretly downloaded from the lab.

A few steps behind, Mr. Grouse quietly followed.

To say that Donosi was Mas’ old Souli was a bit misleading, but it was easier for Alex to think of it that way. A programming guild, Donosi had been formed when the previous guild leader, Essosouli Olosso has died. Mas had used the turnover to buy his freedom, while most of the other guild members had joined Olosso’s heir Donosi when she established her ‘new’ Souli. So basically, all the same people working out of the same place, doing the same thing.

Fortunately, while Mas was no longer considered family, Essosouli Donosi was inclined to temporarily hire them both whenever they needed a place to lay low for a while. In exchange for Mas doing some work for them, he and Alex received the protection that being part of a powerful Souli brought, keeping would-be Bounty Hunters at bay thanks to the intricacies of Banu politics.

Alex arrived through the old airlock that marked where the Donosi’s ship connected to the flotilla. Not that it was much of a ship anymore. The thing hadn’t flown in decades and was so hemmed in on all side by other structures it was unclear if it could take off even if it had wanted to. Carefully stepping over thick cable bundles, she made her way inside. It was cluttered for sure, but compared to some of the other Souli she had visited, Donosi was neat and organized. Rather than the usual overflowing collection of odds and ends that most Banu seemed drawn to, the computer guild’s wealth was all in data. Racks and racks of drives of various makes and models lined the walls, some of them older than her. In the center of the room, several Banu half-reclined at terminals pouring over lines of code. Over the sound of typing, she could hear Mas happily humming to himself.

“Any luck, Mas?” asked Alex.

“Oh, yes. Much,” replied Mas with a wide smile. “We have confirmed that Project Stargazer is particularly worthless.”

Alex turned to see Essouli Donosi enter the room. You could always tell when Donosi was approaching because the dozens of mobiGlas that she wore clacked together as she walked. “Oh, yes,” said Donosi. “Complete garbage.”

That red warning sign in Alex’s head started flashing a little faster. “What do you mean? We got paid a fortune to wipe this stuff.”

Mas walked over to Alex with a datapad and gestured to the screen. “This is Project Stargazer.”

“Looks like a targeting reticule.”

“It is a targeting reticule. Part of a design that was supposed to help gunners recalibrate their weapons if the sighting was off during combat. The project was shelved last year when it was proven in tests to only be slightly more efficient than not using it.”

“The datapod you stored it on is worth more than this terrible information,” said Donosi. “Total refuse. Utter trash. No one would ever pay anything for such a thing as what you have brought.”

Alex’s stomach sank when she realized that Donosi was repeating herself. A sure sign that the Essosouli was negotiating. Part of the agreed upon price for the Souli’s protection had been the info they’d stolen and now it seemed that Donosi was no longer satisfied with that deal. This was not good news considering that both her and Mas were technically indentured to the guild currently.

“You can keep the datapod then,” replied Alex. “Let’s go, Mas.” She pulled on his arm, trying to get him to follow her.

“Mas, stay where you are,” said Donosi in a firm voice. “Your debt has not been cleared.”

Mas stopped and Alex found herself uselessly pulling on what might as well have been a brick wall.

“What are you doing? Let’s go.”

“I am sorry, Alex,” said Mas. “I cannot leave until Essosouli Donosi approves.”

“Are you serious?”

“I will not break a given bond. I am not like a Human.” With that, Mas winked at her.

Alex had been the one to teach Mas to wink and it had quickly proven to be a terrible idea. More than a few deals had gone south thanks to him winking when Alex was attempting to stretch the truth a bit. However, since none of the other Banu knew what winking meant, the skill might finally have payed off. Mas wanted her to find a way out of this.

“And what do you think our debt is?” asked Alex.

“A month of labor. Mas will gain access to some difficult locked drives we have acquired and you will clean.”

Even if they hadn’t needed to make their rendezvous, there was no universe that existed where Alex would have taken those terms. A headache began to grow behind her eyes. Like she didn’t have enough on her plate without becoming a Banu slave for a month. Actually, Alex thought, why am I having to deal with this?

“And I say there is no debt. You agreed to take the info on the datapod and that’s what you got. A deal’s a deal.”

“Information that is worthless.”

“Yeah, that sucks for you. Next time negotiate better.”

A smile broke across Donosi’s face. “Very well. You are free to go.”

“Oh,” Alex responded a bit taken aback by the sudden shift. Even though she lived with a Banu, she still could be surprised by how alien the aliens sometimes felt. “Thanks.”

“Come on, Alex,” said Mas, getting up from the terminal. “We don’t want to be late.”

Mas worked the star runner’s scanner as Alex guided the ship towards the rendezvous coordinates the courier had delivered to her a few days earlier.

The relative quiet of the Duck proved to be unnerving rather than the relief she had expected. And even though she should have been able to take a break from looking over her shoulder now that she was back aboard her own ship, Alex still felt on edge. Nothing about this job was sitting right. Why would Grouse want them to purge useless data? Why would the Advocacy be treating them like the Empire’s most wanted? Why did Grouse want to meet again rather than just sending the credits. Why couldn’t she figure out what the hell was going on?

“This is a trap, yes?” asked Mas, having similar thoughts.

“Yeah,” agreed Alex. “You want to forget the credits and bail?”

“It is a lot of credits.”

“It is so many credits.”

Mas thought for a beat. “We can always get more credits. I am a very good hacker and you are also good at things.”

“Yeah.” Though she was sad to be losing the money, a huge sense of relief came over her now that the decision had been made. “Where do you want to go? Spider? Maybe finally check out Kayfa?”

“Neither, I’m afraid,” said Mr. Grouse from behind them, the energy pistol in his hand trained at Mas’ head. “You will maintain your current course.”

Alex, cursing herself, swore that from now on she and Mas were going to search all the berths for stowaways before taking off.

“Let me guess, Advocacy are waiting for us at the rendezvous?” asked Alex.

“Correct, Ms. Dougan. You will be arrested, tried and convicted. Of course, there is a chance I will be forced to kill you both before then, but I would prefer not to.”

“You know we’ll tell them about you, right?”

“That has always been the plan. The only surprise was you managing to evade capture this long. I was certain they had you at the Davien jump point. It was most impressive when your Mercury gave them the slip once again.”

“Wait,” said Mas. “If you wanted the thieves arrested, then why did you hire us? Why not hire bad thieves?”

“The job needed to be successful. A lesser team would have been caught before deleting the project.”

“But the files were worthless!” protested Alex.

“Enough, Ms. Dougan. We should be arriving at the ambush any moment now.”

“What about Prairie Lightning Delta?

“What?”

A moment after she had uttered the phrase-key, the EMP rigged under the main console went off.

With a sickening lurch, the ship powered completely down.

Mr. Grouse, unprepared, tripped forward off balance. Mas, very prepared, slipped his knife from its sheath and slashed at their captor’s arm. The pistol dropped to the floor and Alex dove, recovering the weapon before Grouse could.

“An EMP. Clever,” said Grouse, breathing hard, the deep gouge on his arm dripping blood onto the floor.

“Mas’ gets full credit,” said Alex. “Now, if you don’t mind, why don’t you start explaining what in hell it is you’re up to.”

Before Grouse could respond, bright headlights suddenly shone into the cockpit. An Advocacy Vanguard flanked by two Banu Defenders was quickly approaching their ship. The Agents must have negotiated their way in with the Security Souli in this sector.

“I am afraid it’s too late,” said Grouse.

“Comm them and tell them we’ll kill you if you don’t stand down.”

“Why would they care about a corpse?” asked Grouse, reaching his fingers inside the wound on his arm.

“Mas! Stop him!” shouted Alex.

Mas reached out, but not fast enough.

“Your Empire thanks you for your service,” said Grouse as he used his fingers to sever his brachial artery. The trickle of blood turned into a gushing flood. Grouse collapsed to the floor unconscious.

Alex was certain that the memory of what Grouse had just done would hold the top spot for the most terrifying thing she’s ever seen for a long time to come. “Crap! Do you know first aid?”

“No.” said Mas, looking down at the body and its widening pool of blood. “Did we ever buy more medpens?”

“Crap. Crap. Crap. Help me get some pressure on him or something.”

It was then that the ship’s power kicked back on.

“—gent Duck. This is the UEE Advocacy. Prepare to be boarded.”

It seemed Alex and Mas had a choice. Either tend to Grouse before he died, or try to avoid capture. It was a very easy choice. “Mas, dump his body in the lock and strap in!”

Alex threw herself into the pilot seat and opened up the throttles to max. The Mercury burst to life and hurtled towards the Vanguard, rolling to bring their port side to the Advocacy’s ventral. The shields flared as the twin Sawbucks on the Vanguard’s turret scored a direct hit. They held for now, but a few more hits like that and the Duck would be done for.

A head to head fight wasn’t an option here. They were outclassed. Emergency escape maneuvers were the order of the day.

Gaining a bit of distance from the pursuers as they rushed to turn around and give chase, Alex quickly opened up the rear ramp and turned off the cargo grid.

“Mas, special delivery!”

Alex pulled hard on the controls and Mercury flew straight up, leaving the ten crates in their hold floating behind them. She grabbed the blackout helmet she kept nearby for just this moment and quickly slipped it on, giving all new meaning to the phrase ‘flying blind.’

Mas began counting down, “Three… two… one… “

Alex heart skipped a beat before she remembered that Banu counted down to zero.

“Zero!”

Behind them, a small new sun burst to life as the crates exploded. Or at least that’s what it looked like. Or would have looked like if Alex could see anything.

Each of the crates had contained the equivalent of a hundred flares. The ten crates combined was enough to overload any nearby sensors long enough for them to clear range. And forget trying to track them visually. Those poor pilots would be lucky if they got their vision back any time soon.

Alex pulled off the helmet and lined up a QT towards the Bacchus asteroid belt.

“If we are going to be on the run again,” said Mas. “I think I would like to go visit Leir.”

“Sure, Mas.” said Alex. “It’s your turn to pick anyway.”

Alex let out a deep sigh and for the moment tried to ignore the pool of blood at her feet by concentrating on flying.

No answers. No money. But for now at least, they had their freedom.

THE END.

[planarchaosproject]

Planar Chaos: Chapter Sixteen

 Lisandra

Rhyne was unceremoniously dumped out of the crab construct's claws and onto a platform that stood, for the most part, by itself somewhere in the maze. He rolled across the ground and came to a halt with the aid of a tent stake.

He sat up, rubbing the back of his head and surveying his surroundings. A tent was erected in the middle of the platform and surrounded by several piles of books. There were no cooking supplies and Rhyne couldn't see a fire pit. He did see cages, though, three of them. Two were empty, and one was occupied by a familiar face.

"Kyari Alexiona," Rhyne growled. "Why am I not surprised you went and got yourself captured?"

Kyari narrowed her eyes. "You're here too."

"You're in a cage, though." Rhyne stood up and crossed the platform. He examined the metal of the bars. "What is this? How can it hold a planeswalker?"

"As you've probably discovered, we can't planeswalk off of Xerex. We're stuck here until we complete the maze."

"Then who lives here?" Rhyne turned to look back at the tent surrounded by its books.

"I don't know. All I know is that there are two of us and three cages. Someone else is probably going to be joining us soon." Kyari sighed. She hoped Brock was doing okay taking care of her hydra.

"Three cages, huh? Well you're going to have to wait for another companion of yours to get caught. I'm out of here." Rhyne took a running leap off of the edge of the platform and discovered that he wasn't leaping away from the annoying elf walker and the cages, but back towards them.

"I hate this place!" Rhyne bellowed.

"I'm not a fan of it either," Kyari said, leaning back against the bars of her cage.

"Why do you just sit there in that prison? You're too complacent. You're boring."

"Rhyne, I fail to see what this line of dialogue is doing to get us out of here."

Rhyne started laughing hysterically. "You think I'm going to help you escape? Oh that's rich. Kyari, the only reason I would help you escape would be so I could eat you later when I start to starve. You're lucky I don't do it right now. Devouring allies is a common way to gain strength on Jund, as I'm sure your petty research has taught you."

The crab that brought Rhyne to this platform reached one leg up over the edge and struck the planeswalker in the spine, knocking him prone. He was then swept into the cage next to Kyari, still paralyzed. Rhyne's breath came in wheezing gasps.

Kyari huddled in the far corner of her cage, as far away from Rhyne as she could get. The unstable walker frightened her. She could almost feel waves of rage rolling off of him. They made her nauseous, or maybe that was the smell the loner gave off. She'd been in goblin dens that smelled fresher. At the same time that she feared him, she also pitied him. Rhyne had no real friends, no true allies he could count on. Rinok certainly wouldn't come for him, and as far as Kyari could tell, Vilhelm was hiding something from everyone. Rhyne's own attitude hadn't done him any favors, she thought. He didn't view allies as people, but as tools to achieve his own selfish ends.

Even through all of this, it took every ounce of Kyari's resolve not to heal him. She knew the stunning blow wouldn't prove fatal, having experienced it herself, but the discomfort wasn't something she wished on anyone.

Rhyne's wild eyes fixed on Kyari and fire sputtered to life around his hands before dying quickly. He couldn't get the breath to power the spell, but his intent was plain. He'd lash out at Kyari to sate his bloodlust and rage.

Maybe she could leave him like that after all.

000000

"Marthel, Sa'Raah, how do you drive this thing?" Brock asked, sitting astride the hydra. It had refused to move thus far, leaving the three planeswalkers with a dilemma. They could continue forward on foot and leave the hydra, or they were stuck with it until it decided to follow their lead.

"That's just it, Brock," Sa'Raah replied, "you can't 'drive' a large creature like you'd drive a cart."

"Well, that isn't necessarily true. There are spells for taking control of things," Marthel countered.

"Kyari wouldn't like it," Sa'Raah said.

"Kyari isn't here." Brock closed his eyes and took a calming breath. "If anyone is going to take control of this hydra it'll be me, that way she can get mad at me when she finds out."

"You're going to give her that 'greater good' speech again," Marthel said it as more of a fact than a question.

"You know she doesn't believe in that, at least not to the extent you do," Sa'Raah said.

Brock groaned, "I know. And she hates anyone doing anything to this hydra in particular."

"I don't see what the problem is," Nadia said as Marthel directed her back onto their path. The angel had attempted to follow the construct that took Kyari and was just now able to navigate her way to the group once more. "This beast isn't cooperating, why do we need to bring it?"

"Beasts on Shandalar are a little different than they were on Bant, Nadia," Marthel explained. "And Kyari has formed a special connection with this one, sort of like how I have a special connection with you out of all the angels."

"That is different," Nadia said emphatically. "I gave you my sigil, I chose you as my hero."

"And Kyari chose this hydra," Marthel said. "It's different than a pet, Nadia."

The angel crossed her arms. Something about this maze world didn't sit right with her, but she couldn't put her finger on what exactly it was.

"Marthel, do you have anything I can use to help me with this spell?" Brock held out his hand.

The Maelstrom Mage hunted around in his cloak for anything he could find that would allow Brock to cast the spell he was thinking of. He produced a variety of guild signets.

"These should work," Brock said, taking the signets. Unlike some of the other walkers Marthel knew, Brock had never taken the time to gain membership into Ravnican guilds. As such he didn't have his own signets. "You mind if I keep these?" He held up two in particular, one decorated with the fist of the Boros and the other with the blue triangle of the Azorius, symbolizing their rigid hierarchy.

"By all means, although I have to say I'm not surprised. You haven't really given up on that Soratami upbringing, have you?" Marthel smirked, but there was a sadness in his eyes.

"Order is necessary in some situations, Marthel. This is one of them." Brock closed his eyes, focusing on the spell. He sensed the hydra's mind and grabbed on, preparing himself for the wild ride that was forcibly taking control of something far larger than himself.

"Order by whose definition?" Marthel said under his breath.

"I heard that," Brock said.

Sa'Raah sat back and let them bicker. She was instead focusing intently on the hydra, making note of any changes that occurred when it lost its free will to Brock. The first thing that happened was it became incredibly quiet, its low rumbling voices going silent one by one. Its eyes took on a strange character, almost like they were glazed over by the effect of some drug. Then it stopped moving, its heads fixed in a forward position, the necks all still. It could have been a sculpture, Sa'Raah thought, it was that still.

"Kyari isn't going to be happy about this," Sa'Raah muttered, mostly to herself. The hydra's wildness was gone, completely subsumed by Brock's own powerful will. Sa'Raah couldn't help but think back to her first encounter with Rhyne and what he'd said about her becoming weak, about her losing her own wildness.

A flash of anger burned through her like dragon fire. How dare Brock do something like that to a beautiful, savage creature of the wild places? He deserved to burn.

Before it could even manifest, the fire sputtered out. She heard her mother's voice soothing her during the execution of the heretic Anafenza.

"The greater good is a strange thing, my child," Dromoka had said. "Sometimes we make decisions we know others would not approve of in order to help them."

00000

Lissy you know if you wanted me to come for a visit, you could just ask.

I know, Ash, I just never thought I'd run into you here.

How long has it been, old friend, years?

At least. I'll never forget the day you found me slumming it with the Cecani siblings, trying to tease out their secrets of life and death.

And how long have you been lost in Xerex?

Months at the least, maybe a year or two? I really don't know. The lack of day and night is throwing me off.

Vampires don't sleep, either. Where are you staying? I've got some friends I want you to meet.

The necromancer, his fairy wife, and your oozy lover?

Not to mention my precious little ball of emptiness.

Is that what you're calling it?

Well technically its name is Abby.

Short for Abomination?

What else am I supposed to call this unholy ball of mutated adorable biomass?

Lisandra gave a mental sigh. I suppose there's no other word. I'll send a crab to come get you. They're remarkably well behaved for creatures with no true brains.

The dark haired vampire strode around her campsite. She glanced over at the two planeswalkers trapped in their cages. She wasn't hungry. They'd get to live a little longer. Her time in this maze had taught her just how long she could go without consuming the psychic essences she'd practically gorged herself on in the service of the Dimir. It was a surprisingly long time. Then again, the implicit immortality that came with vampirism probably had something to do with it.

"You two had better behave for our company, an old friend of mine is coming to visit," she said.

The elf woman, Kyari, spoke first, muttering under her breath, "I hope they fare better than we do."

The man, a human, merely snarled at Lisandra.

"Have some manners, please. Were you raised by wolves? Wait. Don't answer. I'll just find out myself. Hm..." She skirted the edges of the man's mind, gleaning the information she needed. "Nope. Native of Fiora, raised in a stable household. Son of a butcher, not wealthy but not poor either. Trained under the gorgon Vraska to get your revenge on your father's killer. How noble. Once that was done, you decided to roam the multiverse doing whatever the hell you wanted to, it seems. Is that growl supposed to be intimidating or did all the time you spent on Alara where Jund used to be rattle your brain that much, Rhyne?"

"You know about the conflux?" Kyari looked puzzled. "You're far too young to have heard anything about that."

"You aren't the first planeswalkers to come through here, you know. I've learned a lot about the goings on just by plundering people's minds for news before I suck what's left out." The vampire smiled, revealing her long fangs. She'd taken care to learn how to speak properly and without Mirko's lisp. They may as well have not been there.

"And you killed them all to stay alive, just like you're going to kill us?" Kyari asked.

"Only when I absolutely have to. I hate wasting knowledge, as you can see by all my books. I never travel without them. It's kind of my downfall, really, because these are what led me to this forsaken plane in the first place. Every book you see here was meticulously collected for its references to this place and the man whose research lies at the center. They're all about Urza, or at least they're believed to be about him," Lisandra explained.

"Marthel would think this is a treasure trove," Kyari said involuntarily.

"He's the one with the angel that gets confused for Beleren a lot, right?" Lisandra asked.

"Um, well, yes," Kyari said.

"If he wants to read my books, by all means he can if he ever finds me."

Kyari glanced to the side. "You know, if we all work together we could get to the center and get out once we see what's down there. There's three groups of us. Marthel put us together in order to form some kind of super team to make it to the center of Xerex. Then there was some arguing over what we'd do with the research down there once we arrived and we sort of split off into factions."

"I don't care what happens to it, I just want to know what it is and what it does," Lisandra said. Her resolve was plain on her face. She would not leave this maze until she had solved it. The crabs couldn't get her to the center, but they could venture out and bring her more minds to consume until she had amassed enough knowledge to solve this greatest of puzzles, grander than the Dragon's Maze that ran her off of Ravnica in the first place. The life of a planeswalker wasn't something that she hated, though. Being able to leave a place and not be followed was nice, especially since Mirko seemed determined to harass her every chance he got.

"Personally there are some hands I'd like for it to not fall into, namely the hands of that one over there and his cohorts, two men named Rinok and Vilhelm. I don't trust them, certainly not any farther than I can throw them. One perverts his life giving power into a weapon of war, the other hides his true self. And Rhyne over there doens't give half a damn about anyone other than himself."

"Not entirely true," Lisandra said. "I'm sensing a name... Sa'Raah? The clever dragon girl?"

Kyari's wide eyes turned to Rhyne.

"I'm getting something like corruption, wildness, savagery, weakness, strength, allies, devour, it's all very jumbled. Oi. My head hurts." Lisandra massaged her temples. "You're lucky I'm being nice to you, Rhyne, I could just rip out what I want."

"And I could destroy you without lifting a finger," Rhyne growled. "You will release me, woman."

"Not if you're going to behave like that I won't. Those bars are linked up to a source of necromantic energy. If you so much as think about trying to escape, I flip the switch and drain the life from your body, converting it into colorless mana that I can then use to tap into the other artifacts I've found here."

Kyari's face went white. "You don't mean..."

Lisandra interrupted her, "Yep. I found a book written entirely about Ashnod's altar in my travels. I figured out how to make one myself. Old walkers weren't so concerned with keeping themselves a secret it seems, considering that book should never have even been on Theros in the first place, but Phenax parted with it for the right price."

"That's horrifying. Don't you care at all about the people you're killing?" Kyari asked.

Lisandra shrugged. "I preserve the important bits."

"Our ideas of what is important are very different, I believe," Kyari said.

"Opinions differ, Kyari, but our goal is the same. Getting out of this maze. Now you can be with me, and live longer than your silent feral friends over there, or you can be against me and it's a coin flip over whose mind I devour first. Do we have a deal?" Lisandra reached her hand through the bars of Kyari's cage.

Kyari reluctantly took the vampire's cold hand. "Yes. We have a deal."

"Good." The door of Kyari's cage popped open. "Would you like to take a look through my library and maybe have a discussion about what you've learned about hydras in your travels?"