#vale it's been almost 10 years you need to get over what happened | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

redmaneroster · 4 years ago

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Our Home Away From Home, Away From Home

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PART 4 – Coping

Qrow isn't exactly the intimidating uncle so much as he is the nervous older friend. Sure, he comes in with cheek and swagger, but he hesitates sometimes and watches what he says. Things are uncomfortable for a while.

Jaune and Qrow are sitting alone on the sofa, eyes passed the TV and out the window. Jaune breaks the silence and asks him how he knew. Qrow, surprisingly, explains that he turned into a bird and followed them home. He fully intended to leave when they got into the door but then he overheard the bit about Ruby going missing so he sat by the window and waited for updates.

He fell asleep on the windowsill.

Yang's moaning woke him up.

Both men don't even dare look each other in the eye. They both agree not to bring that up with her for as long as they live.

It's minutes later after they've both taken a swig from their flasks that Qrow asks, "So what are you two?"

"I don't know," he answers; almost apologetic. Almost fearful, but not of Qrow. "We're close and trying to… forget things."

"Yeah, I can see that." Qrow takes another swig. "Tell me, is this about Tai and Rae?"

"More than a little, yeah."

"Those two idiots aren't the least bit careful anymore… I'm sorry she's lumping it onto you. If I'd done better, none of this would have happened."

"I don't mind just listening to her."

"I know. It's the fact that she has to go through it at all… She's still in school. Distractions are dangerous when you're still fresh on the hunt."

Jaune laughs. "She's been doing this for years. If anything, I'm the one that's still green."

"You runts don't get to be proper huntsmen unless you've faced a real, proper threat or graduated. To a licensed huntsman, there's a reason why you're all still in-training. All the glory and shit is the stuff you gotta revel in while you're still in the safety of these halls instead of roughing it in the wilds day after day, facing odds stacked against you."

Qrow is amicable, asking only that he doesn't also seduce Ruby. Jaune's confusion is answer enough. He's no Casanova. He isn't Taiyang. Qrow has it that he believes men like him are unprepared as partners and fathers. Jaune disagrees, saying that his own father was like Tai. To him, any man can work their way into being a proper partner.

They talk about it for long enough that Yang stumbles back into the apartment. She hopes Qrow hasn't spilled any embarrassing stories about her.

They're deftly quiet at that.

-0-

Yang doesn't stay long (it isn't like she spends every weekend with him after all), but she lingers at the door. She hears their muffled voices through the gaps but she doesn't strain her ears to decipher them. She isn't here to eavesdrop.

She hears them laugh. Briefly, she wonders if even Qrow knows Jaune more than she does.

Breathing evenly, she calms the fiery doubts and walks off.

-0-

"What are your intentions?" Qrow asks an hour later, once he's sure Yang is long gone because of course he knows when she's there.

"We didn't sleep together."

Qrow winces at the thought of them. Then it's so deeply uncomfortable that his whole body shudders. "Ah, god, fuck! Damn it, kid, I don't want to think about you two naked! How would you feel if I shared my stories with you!"

Jaune, similarly, melts down at the thought.

Yang actually comes back because she forgot Ember Celica. She hears them freaking out through the door and pivots into the other direction. Blake asks about her bracelets. Yang says it isn't important right now.

-0-

Jaune and Qrow sip their flasks at the same time. They joke about it.

When it's quieter, Qrow can see in his eyes that he wants to ask something so he encourages him to.

Jaune, with an uneasy breath, asks what Qrow is always drinking to forget.

Turns out, he doesn't drink to forget. Drinking is when he does the most thinking, actually.

Drinking is a hobby. Less a recreational drug and more a medicinal one. "Confused? Let me explain…" He doesn't recommend it but he's built up such a tolerance for it before he even went to be Beacon as a kid that it's all basically like water to him. Alcohol isn't his coping mechanism, but he confesses that he does technically have one if it can be called that.

He lost an old friend a long time ago and he isn't sure if his semblance is to blame. The thought has haunted him since. Grief mixed so deeply with poisoned guilt has made him obsessed with loneliness.

He enjoys the quiet nights sitting alone at home, eying the moon, dreaming of what ifs. He enjoys sitting in meadows, letting Summer heat hold him like a familiar embrace. He enjoys hunting solo and coming out on top, all in her name. It's proof that, even in death, she's still the best partner he ever had.

Alcohol is normalcy. It's where he thinks the most clearly, acts the most boldly, acts like himself. Being sober unsettles his mind, makes him act irrationally.

Somehow it makes sense. He always did seem the more sober man when he's got a flask in his hand. Even subconsciously, Jaune realizes that he's made that his gospel.

Qrow warns that it certainly isn't the same way with Jaune. (Jaune knows, of course. His tolerance is likely as weak Ruby's might be.) But Qrow confesses to being more worried about what he might do if he drinks too much. He saw all the whiskey in the fridge.

"I'm not going to hurt Yang. I stop myself from going too far."

"I don't mean Yang. She can handle herself around you, I'm sure." Qrow shows him a photo on his scroll. "This is what I'm worried about."

Jaune reels. He feels a few things. Mostly anguish, discomfort. Saphron and Terra are in Vale.

"When was this?"

"This morning. I thought they'd show up today and that I could be your convenient alibi for having an occupied guest room once they dropped in, but it looks they're busy doing whatever it is they're actually supposed to be doing in the city."

"They're going to come by eventually. Even if not today then…"

"I can't stay, kid," Qrow says, cautiously, quietly. "You facing them is just as inevitable as their visit. I'm no good at this stuff but... my advice: Don't run."

-0-

Yang comes back to Jaune sat at the sofa, staring at a movie he isn't watching. Yang turns it off and when the screen buzzes into silence, Jaune finally realizes she's in the room.

He doesn't notice the many bags she brought with her.

When she asks what's going on, he tells her that Terra is in town.

Yang asks if Saphron is with her.

He realizes that he forgot to mention his own sister.

Yang takes his hand and leans into his side. "It's that bad, huh?"

His free hand pulls out the now empty flask. "I might need more than the watered down whiskey."

She sits on his lap and pushes his flask away. "Get drunk on me." Her eyes are half-lidded and pleading, a promise etched into the wetness of her lips and heat rolling off her breath.

He does what she asks.

They press together so closely that he feels another one of inhibitions snap.

That night he decides – without really thinking about why – to steal a kiss while she sleeps. He realizes that the gesture is far too affectionate than it should be but can't bring himself to regret it.

She was awake the whole time.

-0-

PART 5 – Accommodation

Yang fixates on the kiss. Not that it's changed how she feels or how she's going to feel, only that she wonders what's changed for him with her. She finds herself lingering on his silhouette in bed, paying attention to subtleties in his tone, the way he moves around her or if he catches himself saying anything he wants to say but can't.

And all she's found in mapping him out is that he's no different from before.

Blake tells her that it could mean any number of things. Weiss maintains that it has to be burgeoning love. Ruby, much to their surprise, tells them that it was probably a moment of weakness and that he probably still doesn't know what it means.

The girls – Pyrrha included – suggest that Ruby is probably right. But Yang finds herself unwilling to accept it. She isn't one for sitting still. So instead of deferring to their wisdom… she hatches a plan.

It falls apart immediately.

-0-

Lingerie is her first idea, a vibrant red with thin enough material to tear off with ease. Scented candles to fill the spaces, lighting the bed and the nightstands while drowning the rest in dark. A nice ambient drone off the speakers in another room just to fill any silence. And makeup, the kind that layers thick and she feels physically on her face but comes recommended from Coco's article on a magazine.

She calls up Pyrrha to coach her on it, but the girl only blinks at her beyond the digital lense and asks, "Do you want him to sleep with you or fall in love?"

At first, Yang is confused until she takes a good hard look at herself in the mirror and… doesn't recognize who's looking back at her.

"I don't know," she says honestly. She smiles placatively and hangs up. Pyrrha knows she'll figure it out, but Yang has to first get rid of the mess she's made in his bedroom. Everything else will follow after.

She tosses the heels in the bin (they were cheap anyway), rips off her stockings, and covers up the rest in a bath robe. She tries to wash off the makeup but it smears and will take longer than she has time for. She tries too frantically to get the candles out and accidentally sets fire to one of his chairs – she ends up violently launching it into the tiled shower wall and leaves the shower running.

Finally was the music wafting in from the living room, playing off her scroll. She's already halfway into the living room when the front door opens. She freezes in place just as Jaune is letting in his guests, Saphron and Terra.

Yang doesn't know Saphron, not really, but there's a mutual trust between them when the older girl runs over to her, takes her by the wrist, and drags her back into Jaune's room.

Minutes later, Saphron is dabbing some solution on her cheeks. The makeup comes off in clumps – some semblance of relief comes with them.

"I'm Yang," she says suddenly.

Saphron's bemused smile banishes any tension she has left. Yang already embarrassed herself and not much could make it worse at this point when your first impression is half naked in the living room. She'd also spied the lingerie but she'd thankfully neglected to mention the familiar strap peeking off her shoulder.

"Saphron," she says but says no more. She focuses on the task at hand and Yang quiets with her. Then Saphron starts humming. It's familiar, as if carved out of a chapter in her life that she can hardly remember. Suddenly it's clear that this woman is a mother.

"My brother mention me a lot?" Saphron asks.

"He tries not to but can't help it. You always manage to come up in his stories to curb his nonsense. You'd be a punchline if the stories were supposed to be funny."

"Tends to happen." Saphron winks. "Us older sisters have to butt in all the time."

"He told you about me and Ruby?" She wasn't expecting to come up in conversation.

"No… I can just tell." Another smile. More secretly knowing. And she is briefly afraid that all her secrets have already been laid bare. "He told me you were his roommate."

"Ah." A safe descriptor. She'd been expecting a cover story like being his live-in girlfriend. She'd even prepared the lines and a backstory. It's a small a comfort that doesn't have to go through that.

Saphron pouts for a moment before her eyes turn devilish. "He also mentioned that you two share a bed and make out." Yang blinks at her. Her confusion also confuses Saphron. Isn't that supposed to be embarrassing? "Is… was he wrong?"

"Uh… no. That's exactly it. I guess I just wasn't expecting the truth."

"And you really aren't sleeping together?" Saphron peels the gown off her shoulder and tugs at the bra strap. Yang yelps when it snaps back into place. "With an outfit like this?"

"It was a lapse in judgement." She gestures to herself. "I swear this isn't how I normally am. I don't think I'll ever put on something like this ever again."

"Hm… a honeymoon might change your mind, but let's not dwell on that. You've got scented candles in the corner and I can smell…" – she sniffs the air – "burnt wood from the bathroom? What led to all this?"

"I'm… not sure I should say."

Saphron takes Yang's hands in hers. "You don't have to tell me, but it feels like you're struggling with something all on your own."

"I'm not, actually," she admits sheepishly. "I just didn't take anyone's advice. I don't like the idea of waiting for something to happen when I can already do something about it."

"There is value in patience."

"I don't think waiting is my problem. I think I'm just too proactive to do nothing."

"My brother leave you hanging or something?"

"Kind of? … I've said too much already."

"Or not enough." She smiles in that way again. As if knowing. "But I won't pry. I know that sometimes it's better to wait and come to your own conclusions. Right or wrong, a decision you make yourself stays with you and sometimes that's more valuable than being handed the keys to the castle."

"You really think highly of Jaune, don't you?"

"Hm? What makes you say that?"

"I've never heard someone describe the way to someone's heart as 'keys to a castle'."

Saphron gives her a catty cheek. "Oh, so you are in love with him." But she is surprised again when Yang doesn't blush.

She shrugs instead, looking away. Not out of embarrassment but to eye her own fragmentary reflection on the corner of the vanity's mirror. "I wouldn't know. I've never been in love before."

"But… you're so pretty."

"So is Jaune. So is my sister. And all but one of my roommates have never even kissed anyone before coming to Beacon. It isn't like we don't have time to fall in love, it's just not always our biggest concern. They drill it in you early that staying alive out there should be your priority." She eyes the bra strap on her shoulder in the mirror, hates what it represents, what it almost made her do. She pulls up the sleeve again, hiding it away, and she almost looks like herself. "I think that's why I like being around him. He doesn't pass judgement on whether not my problems are big or small. He just knows they're important to me and lets me be heard."

"Is being a good listener what you look for in a partner?"

"It might." She laughs. "It's hardly an extensive list, though, isn't it?"

Saphron huffs, settling herself comfortably beside her and dusting off her skirt. "Lists are overrated. Not that you shouldn't have standards, but if you want to extensively checklist every potential partner, you'll end up with a growing criteria less and less people will be able to fill. And trust me, I've lived a storied life – been dating people since I was fifteen – and I've found that it's easier to talk to people and let things click. Hell, I wasn't even trying to flirt with Terra when we first met. She was the wingwoman to the girl I was actually trying to get with and we just happened to get along better."

"Sounds like quite the story."

"Why don't I tell you over dinner? It'd be a nice little preamble to me and Terra. I suspect we'll be meeting quite often in the near future."

"I guess I will be tagging along with Jaune if you really want me to."

"If I really want you to? You sound a little meek there," Saphron teases. "Jaune described you as the kind of girl with confidence to rival a peacock. Was my brother wrong or are you just starting to sound like him?"

"Hey, I don't…! Oh shit, you're right."

"Fair tradeoff, I suppose. Jaune's got peacock confidence now and I guess you're to blame."

"Ha! No, I can't take credit for that. Pyrrha – his ex – I'm sure she's your culprit."

"We've met. Jaune brought her over last year before they started dating. Wasn't even going to take her to the dance, the little dunce."

"Oh, but they hooked up that night! After they both showed up stag and he tore up the dance floor in a dress."

"A DRESS!?" Saphron screamed, her eyes lighting up with mischief Yang realizes she's just armed her with.

A knock at the door. "Everything alright in there?" Jaune asks, muffled through the mahogany.

"We're fine!" Yang says.

"Peachy, little brother," Saphron adds with a flare of sarcasm, "but you're going to regret keeping secrets from me."

"Yang!" Jaune screeches, panicked. "What did you tell her?"

Yang laughs, hearty and comfortable with Saphron snickering beside her. It almost feels right, like it's something that always should have been, and she wonders why she was ever so afraid. "What you should have told her! You know you can't keep secrets from big sisters!"

"Oh really? I can promise you that there are secrets Ruby hasn't told you."

Yang shot up from her seat. "What!?"

Saphron sits back. "Aren't you two lively…" she whispers.

"I'm no snitch, Xiao Long!" Jaune shouts, snark clear in his voice.

"You'll fess up one way or another!" Yang, in her excitement, marches to the door.

Saphron bolts out of her place and grabs her arm. "You're still underdressed," she says calmly, belying the panic quickened in her chest.

Yang looks down at herself. She's showing a little cleavage too with the loosened bath robe. She takes an extra step back for good measure and clutches the lapels closed.

"C'mon. You're looking a little too comfortable now. Let's find you something modest." Saphron tugs her towards the closet.

"Backing down already?" Jaune said in what – to him – was a moment of silence.

"I'll get you yet, Vomit Boy!" Yang jeers.

Saphron perks up. "Vomit Boy?"

Jaune groans behind the door. "Yang!"

Yang, despite the grin tugging at her cheeks, silently promises to make it up to him later.

-0-

Jaune stands in the center of his living room, staring at his shut door. Saphron has just dragged Yang into it, and his mind has been reeling with what he'd seen. Barely dressed, slow music off her scroll, and with smeared makeup on? He doesn't want to come to any conclusions, not without talking to her first, but the obvious ones come to mind.

He isn't certain he can reckon with the inevitable outcome.

Behind him, Terra sensibly cuts off Yang's music playing off her scroll. Jaune nearly jumps when he's brought out of his stupor and into her beautiful, suffocating presence. Terra is still as captivating as he remembers, tinted with the gloss of a boyhood crush that refuses to die. At least with Saphron around he could suffuse it, but not alone in the heavy quiet of his apartment.

Terra gives him a bemused smile. Ever sympathetic. She pats the seat cushion beside her and Jaune joins her, plopping on the cushion with a held breath he eases out of himself.

"You seem surprised," Terra says. "And here I thought you'd already seen her in less."

"I did say we've only made out… and snuggled." He can't decide which one is more scandalous. Perhaps neither. Or both, given that they aren't even dating.

"Yeah, despite that being unusual enough to be true, I still had my doubts."

"Have any still?"

"No. You definitely don't look like the kind of couple that's seen each other naked."

Jaune's eyes narrow. "We're not a couple."

"I believe you," she says with a smile. She's so dangerously close to him that he can smell her perfume. A glance shows him that she's eying him expectantly. He's tense, uncertain, and it's clear that she can see that. She pulls away, giving him room to breathe. "Guessing you've still got a crush on me then?"

His spine gets stiffer, spotting her at the corner of his eye because he refuses to look directly at her. She's smiling still. Being cheeky. "Terra…" he groans.

She scooches a little closer again (taking a chance that his nerves might not erupt), and lets his heat wash over her and lets him feel hers. The affection is platonic, he knows that. He and his sisters huddle together for comfort often, and Terra has just learned to follow suit. But he can't help but revel in it, letting it sink into his pores till it leaves a familiar tingle.

A small part of him hates it but mostly hates himself for indulging.

"If I asked you why, would you tell me?" Her tone is quiet, almost a whisper. She's trying to ease him.

"Because you cared about me."

She chuckles because it's naïve and honest and oh so very like him that it's almost nostalgic. "Was that really all?"

"When you're young and naïve, that's all it takes."

"I didn't know you were lonely."

It was his turn to chuckle. "I wasn't. I was never some lonely little kid who didn't have any friends. I had enough love from my sisters alone to fill my heart a hundred times over."

"Then why?"

He shrugs. "I don't know. Do I need to have been missing something in my life to want to fall in love?"

Her feet shuffles in place. "I guess I haven't seen it that way. After I was old enough to date, I'd not gone a year without someone I wanted to be with or was already with. I always felt like love completed me, like it does now with Saph… Is that not how you feel?"

"I'm… I'm not saying love doesn't make me happy or anything. It's just that I don't feel like I need it to feel whole. I don't think it'd complete me, just that it might be nice to have too. Is that not how you feel?"

She chuckles again, a nervous uncertainty tinting her quiet, teahouse melody. "I don't know. Never been without it, really. At least not for long."

He looks at her – examines her, really – because her cheek is gone, as is her confidence, and it feels like she's revealing her artifice in a vulnerable moment. She's digging gaps into her own thoughts and he can see her pick apart her own internal logic and she seems more and less somehow. Like she's less the perfect cut gem he thought she was and sees the girl underneath it.

He's less tense all of a sudden.

And for a moment he feels like he can come to grips with everything that she is. Who she was to him, who she wasn't, and who she's become. A boyhood crush, flightful fantasy, and… he can't bring himself to think of the last. Fist clenching and unclenching, a slow motion that tries to hide the trembling in his digits.

He swallows and he worries if she can hear it. She doesn't, but she can see something's troubling him.

"How's Adrian?" he asks.

"Oh, he's –"

"A DRESS!?" Saphron screams from beyond the locked bedroom door.

Jaune jolts up from his seat and nearly bumps into Terra who'd stood along with him. She steps aside and he hurries to the door, asking after them. Terra tries not to pay attention (she can barely hear what they say beyond the door anyhow) but then he mentions Yang's sister, Ruby – the girl Terra thought he actually has a crush on – and Yang audibly shouts, "What!?" passed the door at him.

"Aren't you two lively…" Terra whispers.

-0-

Dinner is a largely pleasant affair until the alcohol gets introduced. The hills of drink they stack onto the table to peruse intimidates Jaune and he cautions that he cannot – will not – drink anything that isn't at least on the rocks. He'll shoulder tomorrow's regret but he doesn't want to sleep through the sun burning through the morning and afternoon.

Saphron and Terra share a glance before pulling something out of Terra's bag. Diadem, a vintage Vacuan drink stronger than everything else on the table. They only ask that he a takes a shot. It'll buzz him through the evening.

It's too strong and he nearly hurls.

Yang half remembers all the stories they tell. Saphron regales them with tales of how she met Terra, the proposal, the wedding, and even the honeymoon off the coast of Menagerie. Jaune spouts on about his team and a misadventure with his twin on an old farm and a horse, and Yang, somehow, talks about a food fight twice. It's funnier the second time around.

There's a gap in her memory of whatever story Terra was telling because she fixates on one part and can't focus on anything else. "…she's little Adrian's babysitter," she mentions briefly but doesn't have the faculties to ask about.

When Saph and Terra leave for their hotel, things wind down and Yang's sitting on the sofa in Jaune's hoodie. Yang returns the shirt and shorts she borrowed but she feels like wearing something that's his might help with tonight.

Jaune joins her, easing down slowly as his head rides the waves of a dying Vacuan storm.

"Who's Adrian?" she asks.

He's quiet for a moment, perhaps from the drink. "He's Terra's son."

Yang can see it. Saphron isn't mentioned deliberately. He doesn't just forget this time. "Oh! From a previous marriage?"

He shakes his head. "No, nothing like that," he says, sobering up.

"A previous partner then?"

Jaune says nothing. He's sitting upright. Rigid and awake. There's something there. Maybe Terra had a previous partner he didn't like, but then things click into place. Realization sets in like headlights through the fog, suddenly and violently.

"Oh my god…" she whispers, "…he's yours."

He doesn't answer. Doesn't need to. She grabs onto his arm and pulls him into a hug. She's hit a nail on the head and panic sets in when she thinks she's opened up an old wound. It's precisely the kind of thing they're supposed to help each other forget. Only, Yang doesn't realize that Jaune is so caught off-guard by her sudden burst of affection that he's at first startled and – when she goes in for a kiss and ends up headbutting him instead – he ends up laughing it off.

His mirth is almost strange until it makes complete sense somehow. She's done her job, kept her end of the bargain, and now she's laughing with him too.

When he's calmed down, he lies back on the sofa when she goes to get a drink. She comes back to find him lying across the sofa and she makes the executive decision to just fall on top of him. She crashes into his stomach with a hefty oof from him and she makes no apologies for retaliating.

"Sofa hog," she jeers from her perch on his chest, chin resting on her arms.

"I bought it," he shoots back playfully, eying her down from the arm rest.

"Still pay half the rent. And I never asked you to pay me back when I foot the bill for refurbishing them."

"Wouldn't have needed to if Zwei didn't tear them up."

"It was a joint decision that we took him in for the week. You're as much to blame."

He sighs. "I guess I am."

It isn't actually an issue. They've basically already had this discussion and Yang had insisted on covering for it at the time. They're only stalling. Even Yang isn't quite sure she wants to go on.

She doesn't know how long it takes her to summon the courage to speak again. All she knows is that he's willing to answer, even if it would be easier for both of them to stay ignorant. To let these problems solve themselves and never to bear your heart until it is absolutely necessary.

But she speaks anyway. "I thought it was the wedding that got to you."

And so does he. "No, it… it just happened at the wedding. Saph had to go talk to an old classmate and so she left Terra with me. I was already holding Adrian and with Joan running off somewhere, we were alone. Just me, Terra… and our son. It hit me then. Slowly, like when you stare at yourself in the mirror at the night of a recital. You think, 'This is it. This is where things fall apart… or meet in the middle.' I knew I had to make peace with it before it got worse."

"And your answer was watered-down whiskey the minute you got back home?"

He shrugs. "Qrow gives good advice."

"Hm… maybe. I still think mine is better."

"Oh? And what's that?"

She pushes herself up over him, arms at either side of his head till her silhouette is against the dim glow of the incandescent bulb, warm light pooling through her hair till it looks like it's on fire. "Get drunk on me," she says, her breath tickling his nose and burning his lips.

But he doesn't kiss her. She sees the way his lips quiver, almost wanting to, but he doesn't even try.

She retreats instead, nestling back onto his chest but his cheeks are still burning and she swears hers are too. The room feels like it's boiling.

"When we kiss, do you think of her?"

"Never," he says honestly, and that seems to be the part that stings the most to him. "That's the most dangerous thing about you. You don't taste, feel, or smell like anyone else." He looks at her and only her, and she shrinks away as she gets up and off of him because she feels like a moon in a sea of stars, and as he straightens up and sits parallel to her, his eyes never leave, like a captive witness.

He leans in, and she doesn't know if it's to kiss her or just her sheer pull on him. She ultimately doesn't decide. Their foreheads meet – her eyes are downward but locked to his lips – and she breathes quietly as she asks, "Jaune? Are you in love with me?"

"Yang, are you even sure you are?"

"I… don't know yet."

He pulls away just an inch as something unsettling furrows his brow.

He gets up. "Gimme a minute," he says, and he's gone for just long enough for her to notice that the familiar heat she had pressed against her is missing.

She doesn't know what to expect when he comes back with his hand clutching a small object, but she would have never guessed a ring. It's nestled in a velvety box that he sits on the coffee table and he leaves it open as he sits down and watches it with her like it's some alien thing. He doesn't speak but he gives her a glance and…

It's then that she realizes that she's afraid. The look on her is uncertain – she can feel it, and she feels it freeze on her features.

"Did you pick this out for me?"

He shakes his head. "It was supposed to be Pyrrha's."

She blinks. "Is… is this what scared Pyrrha off?"

"No… it's what scared me off." He leans back against the sofa and she takes that as an invitation to do the same. They're huddled close, shoulder-to-shoulder. "Our breakup was only supposed to be temporary. Some tournament rival tried to pin her to a scandal when they found out she slept with me."

"What? Why would that be a problem?"

He snorts. "I was too young." Out loud, it sounds absurd.

"You were seventeen," she reasons.

"And Pyrrha was eighteen. As far as the law is concerned, Pyrrha slept with a minor."

Yang can feel herself coil up like a loaded spring. "Well, that's fucked! You're barely three months apart!"

"Didn't matter to them. Tabloids would have pinned it on her for the rest of her career. The context doesn't matter to the public."

"Okay…" she says slowly, stifling her frustrations for later. "So, what changed then? Why did you set her up with Sun?"

"Because I went to the wedding and found myself thinking about Terra again. It gave me some unhealthy doubts. I loved Pyrrha, I really did, but it felt wrong when I danced with Terra that night, holding our son in our arms… It felt like I'd betrayed Pyrrha somehow, even in my own mind, by feeling those things. It didn't matter that I didn't actually do anything about it."

"That's not how feelings work though," she says. "You're supposed to have doubts sometimes because people aren't perfect or consistent. Life isn't fiction, Jaune."

"I know that now." He shrugs, resigned in a way. "I found out a little too late though."

"How did you even get Pyrrha to agree to this?"

"She's not very honest about her feelings. Doesn't have the courage to be. When she heard that I'd pushed Sun to ask her out because Nora can't keep a secret, she thought that I might have given up on her. By the time we got the chance to be honest about it, she'd already gotten to know Sun enough to start taking him seriously."

Yang glances back at the ring. Not quite as alien as it was earlier. It just seems strange now, like it's out of place. There's a small comfort in that. "So where does the ring come in?"

"I got it as a sort of celebration when would get back together, but then people started asking about what it meant and… it felt like I'd stumbled onto some finality between us. Like I'd somehow found 'the one' over a year of friendship, a few dates, and showing up to the dance in a dress."

Yang smiles. Not because he seemed silly at the time, but because he's smiling. Because, in spite of his somber reflections, he can't help but feel like what he'd done turned out to be a triumph.

Her arm loops into his and his head leans on hers in response. "Doesn't sound like a bad set up to me," Yang says, shrugging against his arm. "If anything, it sounds like the stars aligned for you two." She speaks honestly. Forgets herself and sees him as Pyrrha's too-perfect other half to a too-perfect couple. If things hadn't turned out the way they did, she might have cheered them on for the rest of their lives. But that isn't how it turned out.

"That's what everyone was saying. It's like we'd ripped ourselves out of a fairytale, only I was a dense, blind princess and she was some stoic, stubborn prince. But it put a lot of pressure on us, living up to that story, and it felt like I wasn't as ready as I should have been. I came to Beacon unprepared for a lot of things. Might have hurt the people depending on me by not being ready. I was lucky my shield arm was always sturdy, but my heart wasn't. I naively worried that my inexperience would hurt us irreversibly." He rolls a hand over his knuckles. Contemplatively, regretfully. "I thought I was leaving her in good hands, but even if that's true, should I still have stayed instead? Did I have any right to decide if we should have stayed together or not?"

Her fingers slide off his arm and weave into his. She's huddling closer now, feet off the ground and knees tucked up to her chest. "I think, when we fall in love, we have to decide for ourselves if we want to keep going. We don't choose for the other in that. We choose for ourselves cause we are who we're supposed to look out for. You have to protect yourself first." Yang clutches tighter, and somehow Jaune can tell that her mother is involved. "That's the beautiful thing about a love that works. We decide for ourselves and it all just happens to fall into place with someone else. It doesn't always magically align – sometimes you don't agree with what they want or how they take it – but real love compromises just as much as it just… clicks." Like her and her dad. And Ruby. And maybe – if things turn out alright – her mom.

He wants to believe her. Even if he and Pyrrha didn't pan out, they still love each other as friends and things ultimately haven't changed between them. They were always bound to work out their issues and it's clear now that they've compromised without needing to sacrifice the friendship they'd fostered together.

He wants to thank her, but her eyes are away and she's chewing her lip. Yang is thinking of something else. Her sigh cuts through the silence and she's too shy to look at him.

"Jaune, why did you kiss me?"

He blinks. "What?"

"Last night. In bed. While I was sleeping."

His eyes widen. He's been caught. "Is it really so unusual?"

"It is when you aren't thinking of Terra or Adrian. When you do it just because you wanted to."

"How… how could you tell?"

She can hear the panic in his voice. Caught and cornered, it makes her a little happy to know he's unable to hide it. But it's the speed of which he accepts his fate that gets her grinning, because it's as if a part of him is tired of hiding it. "Because you weren't trying to forget something. You weren't trying to tease me and I certainly can't flirt back when I'm asleep…" She shoots him a knowing look and he gulps through a feeble foundation of defiance. "It was none of that. You did it hoping I wouldn't notice. You did it because you were hiding something you wanted."

He crumbles under her teasing. "Y-Yang, I… I can't –"

"Shh, it's okay," she says evenly, defusing his tension and giving him a moment to breathe and look into her eyes. "Don't jump to a conclusion you aren't ready to make." Her tone is slow and deliberate, fingers gliding along the skin of his arm like a soothing, gentle caress. "I get it, Jaune. Like me, you're still trying to figure it out."

He pulls away but fixes her with a stern, serious look. She doesn't realize he's holding her hand till he's squeezing it. He's composed, certain, and so deftly drunk on her that Yang remembers Jaune telling her that drowning in drink gives him clarity. "That's just it, Yang. I know I feel something. I've been feeling a lot of things when I'm with you…" His confidence wanes before he admits that, "It's just that I haven't figured out what I'm supposed to do about it."

Yang blinks twice and tries to speak but can't. And suddenly she can't stop the curl of her cheeks when she feels a growing smile coming.

He's almost afraid. "Yang?"

"Sorry. I'm still… you know you just confessed, right?"

"Ha!" he laughs, heart squeezing his chest. Relief in many ways settling into his skin. "Were you expecting me to say 'I love you'?"

"…"

He chuckles. "Oh my god, Yang."

"Is it weird that I'm a little giddy about that total cliché? Say it again."

He thinks it a little much but the words are easy, flowing freely from his lips. "I love you."

"Agh! You're a serious cheat. Why is it so easy for you to say?'

"Cause I already made peace with it. You stood there in a white dress and I could see you tearing Terra out of that place in my mind and putting yourself there in her stead. I already knew. You've been nothing but a tidal wave to my emotions, just swallowing everything up and leaving little traces of yourself everywhere."

He settles back into the cushions, sinking comfortably into it. "I used to sit on this couch and scream curses at the moon through the window," he says. "Nowadays my eyes are glued to the screen watching a movie with you. I used to be careful about what I threw into the sink because I was afraid I'd have to call in a mechanic to fix the shredder again, and now I don't even give it a second thought."

"And you used to lie in bed thinking about her…" Yang teases.

"Actually, no. I was at peace when I went to bed. Pyrrha trained me to shut down once I got under the sheets. Nowadays it feels like the sandman keeps missing my eyes with the way you move me around in bed."

"I don't think your tongue's been doing much complaining."

"Seems you were willing to use more than just your tongue earlier," he says, teasing her. She shrinks a little, embarrassed. "What were you doing anyway?"

"I was, uh, trying to seduce you."

"Oh… What changed?"

She groans. "I guess my wires got crossed. I thought that if I got you to sleep with me, this" – she gestures between them – "would suddenly clear up. But I'm not that kind of girl. I don't put on lingerie all the time expecting you to see it. Not even sure I'm the kind of girl who wants her clothes ripped off when I get you riled up."

"Yeah, your outfits look expensive. Custom fit and embroidered."

"I wouldn't hit you if you tried, FYI. I'd maybe cry or get upset."

"I'll try not to ravage you through your clothes if that ever happens."

"If? Still don't think we're gonna end up doing the dirty tango after all we've been through? Seems inevitable at this point."

"I think we'll either do it when it makes sense or decide we aren't meant for each other."

"I don't know. I'm pretty snug right where I am." She gives him cheek, brimming with certainty. Confidence. "Still," she says more seriously, "are you really so ready to give up what we have? I don't see it happening, but it looks like you think we're just as likely to stay together as splitting up."

He looks away. Yang is surprised to find him embarrassed, not concerned.

"You don't actually feel that way," Yang says gleefully. "You're as sure as I am."

"I'm not ready to take that risk just yet," he confesses.

She moves to straddle him and loops her arms around his neck. "I can wait."

His hands grip her waist through the thickness of the hoodie. "I can't ask you to do that."

"I'm not asking you. I'm telling you. I told you that love was about deciding for yourself and settling into compromises if our choices don't align. I'm choosing to stay. And – I hope – we agree to compromise."

He takes a moment to look away before locking eyes with her. He leans in and pecks her lips so briefly that she doesn't get the chance to kiss back.

"Wh-what?"

"It's how I'm supposed to say yes, aren't I?"

She laughs and so does he. Yang was expecting to cap off the night with a kiss, pressing bodily into the sheets as their hands roam their bodies, but none of that happens. They clean the dinner the table, take separate baths, and settle into bed together.

She does kiss him on the neck for good measure but he realizes that he can still feel the kiss and it isn't because there's a tingle there. Cracking an eye open, he notices the gloss on her lips. "Are you wearing lipstick?"

"The light kind," she says. "Told myself I'd leave a mark on you during my little lapse earlier. I've decided not to give you a hickey. Consider it an act of mercy."

He shuts his eyes and tries to ignore it but can't. He's painfully aware of it and he just knows he's gonna smudge that on something. It'd be funny if it's Yang's face but he'd hate to get it on his sheets. He sits up. "Yeah, nope. I'm washing this off."

"What? C'mon!" She grabs onto him, anchoring him back into bed.

"Nope. Not doing it," he says defiantly.

"Have it your way, Arc. Hickey it is!"

"Wait, Yang! Yang!"

-0-

Jaune is reminded everyday that he showed up to brunch that following morning with a hickey his scarf couldn't hide. Yang makes it up to him by buying dessert.

The get-togethers go on and Yang is less and less embarrassed about openly teasing Jaune and showing her affections publicly. Jaune retaliates, of course, and they even get hot and bothered in the hallway of a movie theater. They spend the rest of the movie in a stall. Terra finds them and is honestly just surprised they haven't taken each other's clothes off… ever.

Jaune and Yang don't tell them that neither of them and ready to go that far yet. Jaune takes the brunt of the blame and says that if he doesn't hold back, they'll end up doing something stupid. Saphron slips Jaune a condom and he regrets everything for the rest of the night.

Two weeks pass with much the same. Sometimes they introduce Saphron and Terra to some of their other friends, and they even manage a weekend together in a cottage near the coast. They're excited about reuniting with Pyrrha and they even meet Sun on her scroll.

Yang finds out that Saphron is every bit a mother as she is a big sister, and Jaune reminds her that she is practically no different herself.

Jaune learns that Qrow and Terra are old classmates and that they had more in common than they thought.

And after Joan is caught scheming with Nora and getting her and Ren back together, after Blake engorges the shrimp platter on a Schnee-sponsored dinner, after Weiss tames a friendly rivalry between Winter and Saphron about who has the cuter sibling, after Ruby gets her cheeks pinched till they go red cause she lost a bet and showed up in an adorable beowulf costume, and after Penny freaks out and her head pops off at dinner (her severed head still tries to chew on a salad)… their two weeks together are up and they're standing at the train station, ready to see them off.

It's been raining for the last few days and everything is damp and cold. Even the air is still thick with the smell of misty rain water and the sky hasn't seen the sun even peek through the cloud cover. It's almost a somber way to say goodbye.

Saphron is introducing Yang to her babysitter and little Adrian over a video call. Jaune stands aside, unwilling to let the last few weeks burn away at the sight of his biological son gurgling through the screen.

Terra nudges into his side. "Can we talk?"

He nods and she pulls them away beside a pillar. Saphron notices and winks at her wife.

"Is there something wrong?" Jaune asks.

"Nothing, actually. I might even say our impromptu vacation here might as well have been perfect."

"Impromptu?"

"I guess it never came up but… we were only supposed to be here for a few days."

"Why did you stick around then? Wouldn't that have been imposing on your babysitter?"

"Oh, Taffy was plenty happy to be at the house with Adrian. She's an orphan and she takes every excuse to come over." She leans in to whisper. "We might even adopt her once I get a raise at the office so look forward to a niece! And, really, is it such a surprise that we enjoy spending time with you and your friends?"

"After the bonfire? I guess not."

"Good. Now that isn't why I needed to talk."

"Oh…" He glances at Yang a few feet away. He can barely hear her and Saphron through the rancor of the station.

"I know you've been holding back."

"Did Yang tell you that?"

"Call it a big sister's intuition."

"You're an only child."

"Not anymore, I'm not. Now I've got six little sisters and a not-so-little brother." She pats his chest then busies her hands with straightening his collar. "A little brother who is too afraid to take a chance and would much rather play it safe than play at all."

"Terra…"

"I know you're afraid that you aren't ready. I wasn't either. Hell, sometimes I worry I'll mess up and ruin a perfectly good marriage. These are all normal things to be afraid of, and for some people, these fears don't go away. We just learn to live with them."

She slides her hands to his arms and down to fingers till she's holding them softly and looking up at him. There's a quiet concern in her sad little smile that he isn't sure how to respond to.

"I think you've driven yourself to be so careful with your feelings that you've forgotten to just take things as they come," she says. "I know you have to be careful with your heart but the thing isn't made of glass. Even if it hurts, even if it hurts easily, the fact that you're still in one piece should be more than enough proof that you aren't as fragile as you think you are. Maybe take a risk. Maybe love will hurt, but so few of us get better at it without giving it a shot first. Like a lot of things, Jaune, it takes a lot of trial and error."

"I've been down this road before already…"

She squeezes his hands. "And you'll go down it again and again. Sometimes people find love once and that's all it takes. But for the rest of us? For most of us? We gotta keep trying."

With a kiss on the cheek and a whispered 'good luck', Saphron and Terra disappear into accelerating train until even it vanishes into the horizon.

Jaune stares into the middle distance and Yang, much like Terra, nudges into his side. "What did you talk about?" she asks.

He shrugs. "Stuff."

"Oh, well that's lame. Should've had more to say to someone you really care about." It's clear she doesn't buy it.

He knows she doesn't. "Yeah, real shame I wasn't more profound and emotional."

She rolls her eyes because she'll let it be and won't pry for his sake. "C'mon, it's getting chilly out here and it might rain again with the wind picking up." She makes to walk off.

"Hey, Yang?"

She stops. "Yeah?"

For a moment he doesn't speak, his eyes are uncertain and elsewhere but then his fists clench as if he's just convinced himself to do something. "Wanna get dinner?" he asks, reaching out to take her by the hand. "We can put on something nice and there's a real fancy place with the best lobster in town."

Yang isn't sure how to take it. She doesn't resist when his thumb brushes over her knuckles, but she summons a bit of bravery herself, stepping closer and resting a fist against her beating chest. "Is… this a date?"

She yelps when he pulls her in. He kisses her, drowns her tongue and melts their bodies together till she's flush against him and tugging at his hair. There's still fear in his eyes when they pull away, but there's a determination in there she's happy to see. "Is that answer enough?"

She giggles through the haze of her burning cheeks. "Plenty."

Then she's on him this time and tilting him backwards with her lips alone until he's just as hazy. Still, he doesn't expect it when she clambers onto his back and slips into a piggyback ride before she starts laughing uncontrollably.

"Hiya, noble steed! To the bike!" she cheers from her perch atop his head.

He's laughing too, even if he's huffing a little from the jog to Bumblebee. "What's gotten into you?"

"I can't help it…" she whispers into his hair, excitement mixing into a bubbling cocktail with a giddiness she can't stop. "I'm happy."

#Jaune Arc #yang xiao long #jaune x yang #yang x jaune #rwby dragonslayer

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ask-rwby-multishipper · 4 years ago

Text

New Arrivals - Part 1

a TorD AU Vytal Festival Arc skit

Glynda, at the front of the lecture hall: As I’m sure all of you are aware, the Vytal Festival Tournament is coming up soon—

Ruby, whispering: Yesssss...

Glynda: —and since Vale is hosting this year, many students from the other academies will soon arrive at Beacon. While here, they will attend classes and stay in the dorms. I implore all of you to make them feel welcome here.

Ruby, raising her hand: Ma’am?

Glynda: Professor.

Ruby: Sorry, professor. If these new students are going to be taking classes with us, won’t that give them the chance to watch us fight and learn our strengths and weaknesses? Doesn’t that play to Beacon’s disadvantage in the tournament?

Glynda: Perhaps. But you will also get to observe them, so it would offset. Students from the various academies attending the host academy in the lead up to the festival is a longstanding tradition. This is everyone’s chance to give students from all over Remnant a reason to think highly of Beacon. And that, to me, is just as important as impressing viewers and spectators at the tournament itself. Once you graduate from Beacon and become Hunters, many of the students from the other academies could very well become colleagues in your profession. Inspire them to respect you and your peers.

Yang, whispering to her team: So what I’m getting from this is that we could get the newbies to join our game—

Glynda, in pointed response: And to do so, do not conduct yourself in an unbecoming manner, no matter how emphatically someone dares you.

Yang, whispering: “Unbecoming” is subjective, could mean anything.

Weiss, whispering back: Yang, we are not going to involve students from other academies in this, not when the Vytal Festival is so close. You heard Professor Goodwitch, these visitors could be our allies in the future.

Yang: And we’ll share so many laughs remembering everything that happened playing truth or dare, right?

Weiss: No?!

Glynda: Anyway, these visiting students will be arriving over the course of the next week. Be kind and courteous, or else I and Professor Ozpin will be having a word with you.

Reese, bursting into the lecture hall: FOUND IT!

Everyone: *turns and looks up at Reese and her team*

Arslan, murmuring behind Reese: You didn’t need to announce our arrival so loudly...

Bolin: Especially considering how late we are...

Glynda, calling up to them: Team ABRN, I am delighted you’ve arrived in my class, despite not being scheduled to begin attending until tomorrow.

Nadir, whispering loudly: I told you it said tomorrow, I told you!

Reese, muttering: Well, we believe you now.

Glynda: Please introduce yourselves to my class.

Reese: Uhh... *glances toward Arslan*

Arslan, sighing and stepping in front of the rest of her team: My name is Arslan Altan. I am the leader of Team ARBN, and these are my teammates, Bolin Hori, Reese Chloris, and Nadir Shiko. We are very excited to be visiting Beacon and competing in the tournament.

Yang, whispering mischievously to her team: New targets acquired.

Weiss: No.

Glynda: Thank you, Miss Altan. I’m sure my students are excited for your team to join us in class. For now, class dismissed. Feel free to mingle. If you need anything from me, you can find my office.

Nadir, to his team: Can we, tho?

Reese: Don’t look at me, this place is a maze!

Yang, sliding up to them: Whatsuuuup, ARBN! I’m Yang, and may I be the first to welcome you to Beacon!

Blake: Technically, Goodwitch was the first to welcome them.

Yang, gritting her teeth and gesturing towards Blake: This is my teammate Blake, and they—

Blake: I’m very, very happy to meet you four. *wink*

Yang, whispering: You’re stealing my thunder.

Weiss, sliding in front of Yang: We are Team RWBY, by the way. I’m Weiss, you’ve met Yang and Blake, and our team leader is Ru—

Ruby, darting up to Reese: Oh my gosh, your outfit is so cute!

Reese, grinning: Thank you! *fanning herself* Finally some recognition for my fashion sense. Your name was...?

Ruby: Ruby Rose! And your hair, how do you get it to stand up like that??

Reese, throwing her hair back gracefully with a chuckle: Gravity Dust infused conditioner. I can hook you up if you want.

Blake, muttering: I’d let her hook me up anytime.

Weiss: *elbows them in the ribs*

Blake: Ow!...I deserved that.

Ruby, stars in her eyes: Would you?!

Reese: Sure!

Ruby: OMG WE JUST BECAME FRIENDS!

Reese: We did?

Ruby: We did!

Reese: Oh shit, I guess you’re right!

Yang, looking at Arslan: Anyway, where are you guys staying? Maybe we could hang out? We happen to have this thing...

Arslan: What kind of thing?

Weiss, stepping in: There is no thing! We are normal.

Nadir: I want to hear about this thing.

Yang: It’s a girls and enbies only thing, sorry.

Nadir: *pouts*

Blake: I’m open to all genders, though, don’t worry.

Weiss: *attempts to elbow them again*

Blake: *shadow clones out of the way*

Yang: The boys have a thing, too! I think...

Arslan: What is this thing?

Bolin: I almost don’t want to know at this point.

Nadir: I feel excluded, who do we speak to about the boys’ thing?

Bolin: I’m not signing up for a thing that I don’t even know anything about.

Yang: It’s just a game of truth or dare! It’s an ongoing game, we’ve been at it for months. It’s like a Kingdoms of Remnant group!

Ruby: Which I also have. Are any of you trans, by the way?

Bolin: *raises his hand*

Ruby, putting her hands together: Ahh, good...we shall initiate you posthaste.

Bolin: Guys, I’m scared.

Yang, extending a hand to Arslan and Reese: So what do you cuties say, wanna play? It would be a great way to get to know others!

Weiss: I just hope you two know you’re being peer pressured.

Yang: I’m not asking them to join a Dust trafficking ring, I’m inviting them to game night.

Reese: Sure, I’m in.

Arslan: *sigh* I’ll come, too. If only to keep an eye on Reese to make sure she doesn’t break anything.

Reese: I don’t break things that often, don’t worry.

Yang: Great! You can come by our dorm tonight!

Arslan: I will tell you now, we will not be able to find your dorm, wherever it is.

Yang: The library then! That’s easy to find.

Reese: Is it tho?

Blake: If you need an escort, my services are available.

Weiss: *considers elbowing them again, but realizes it’s futile*

Arslan: We’ll probably take you up on that. Thanks for inviting us.

Yang: Thanks for joining! We’ll see you two tonight!

Ruby, coming up to Bolin: Take this. *hands him a letter*

Bolin: Uhh...

Ruby: Open it where none can see, it is for your eyes only.

Bolin: Uhhhh...

Ruby: Also, do you have any food allergies I should know about before I order pizza for the next meeting? Also, how much experience do you have with RPGs?

Nadir: C’mon, I want a cool club to join!

Weiss, handing him a piece of paper: Here’s the Scroll number of my friend Jaune. Ask him about the boy’s truth or dare game.

Nadir: Oh, nice! Thanks!

Arslan: Well, thanks for the welcome. See you all around.

Team RWBY, waving as they walk away: Bye!

Yang: Weiss, why do you just have pieces of paper with Jaune’s number ready-made?

Weiss: I hand them to guys who flirt with me too much and ask for my number. They call Jaune instead, he talks them down for me.

Yang: Hm. That’s smart.

Weiss: I know.

Blake: If any of you dare one of them to kiss me, I will give you 5 Lien.

Ruby: Make it 10 and the dare will require tongue.

Blake: Deal.

Yang: Make it 20 and I’ll require a concurrent butt grab.

Blake: Double deal.

Ruby and Yang, high-fiving: Stonks!

Weiss: I hate it here.

Arslan and Reese are ready to rock and roll this game of Truth or Dare!

#new arrivals #tord au skit #rwby #rwby truth or dare #ruby rose #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #glynda goodwitch #arslan altan #bolin hori #reese chloris #nadir shiko #team abrn

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zozee122-2 · 3 years ago

Text

The War Ends at Dusk

This is my first fan fiction, so I worked super hard on it! This is the prologue, and the first chapter is finished so I will post that shortly. The premise is four years after the accounts of RWBY and Blake and Yang are awaiting the birth of their first child. Ruby, Weiss, Nora, and Ren are in the waiting room awaiting the birth of the bumbleby baby. The fic is centered around the bee family, and add a bit of found family trope and new age angst.

WC: 2,214

“Does anyone know how much longer this is going to take? I mean they’ve been in there almost 10 months!” Nora barked, getting up to stretch. Ren sighed and grabbed his partner’s hand.

“Patience, please Nora. This has got to be hard on Blake and Yang too.” Ren said ever ready to calm down his excitable partner.

Ruby chuckled, “Guess they’ll be as stubborn as Yang. Taking bets that they’ll be born tomorrow?” she said checking the clock on the wall which read 5:38 pm, the group had been there since Yang’s frantic group text that early morning that Blake was going into labor.

“I’ll put ten liens on that bet, Ruby” Nora said tossing Ruby a rolled-up bill.

Weiss and Ren collectively sighed at their partner’s immaturity and gave each other a knowing look.

“Ruby, your sister’s wife, your best friend, is giving birth to her first child have some sympathy.” Weiss retorted rubbing the bridge of her nose. The four of them sat in silence for a minute. It seemed impossible that they were here together to celebrate life. Something none of them saw in their future a mere four years ago when they were fighting for their lives and battling a unkillable creature. Ruby sat back in the hospital seat closing her remaining eye. She was about to be an aunt, she still couldn’t believe that they were all here like this, yesterday it seemed that Blake and Yang announced they were officially dating, yesterday that they were trapped in Purgatory without seeing any way out. Ruby smiled, she couldn’t quite describe how elated she was to celebrate this moment with her closest friends and family.

“You know,” Ruby started, “I don’t know if you all feel this way, but this feels unreal.”

Weiss looked to her best friend and smiled sincerely, “It does feel unreal. Like all the tribulations we went through as teenagers seems so close, yet so far away. I’m happy in a way that we were a part of the new future that we are giving to Blake and Yang’s child, to all future generations, that they will never have to worry about the things we did.”

“Never thought a future would exist for us like this,” Nora chimed in, taking Ren’s hand, “After everything, I am so thankful that I get to experience this moment. Can’t imagine what they must be feeling too and I’m glad Jaune is assisting in boosting her aura for childbirth.” She smiled and looked towards the birth wing.

Ren rubbed her hand with his, smiling contently, “When we became huntsman it seemed like a forever thing, like we would never be able to experience moments in life as precious as this. I felt like this at Yang and Blake’s wedding too. Their happiness and love for each other filled the room with pink petals, their emotions were so raw and real, I can even feel it today.”

The three smiled at him, “You always know what to say, Ren.” Weiss said, “I just cannot wait to spoil the little thing.”

The group laughed, “They just have to hurry up and get out into the world!” Nora yelled earning a strict look from one of the nurses. She uttered a soft apology while Ruby chuckled and in turn Weiss gave her a look.

Ruby sighed, “It is taking a long time, I hope she’s okay. Has anyone heard anything from Yang or Jaune?”

The four of them checked their scrolls, “Haven’t heard anything sense ‘Blake is 7 centimeters,’ and that was two hours ago.” Weiss replied, huffing quietly in annoyance.

“Hmm, well we could tell some stories to pass the time?” Ruby asked rubbing her chin.

Nora looked up at her, “Practicing your story telling skills on us before you have to tell famous, huntress who saved all of Remnant Auntie Ruby Rose stories?” Nora asked.

Ruby laughed, “Partially, I guess. So, yes, or no?”

Ren nodded, “I’d like to hear some, maybe some that we were not together for? Like what you’ve been doing now with Jaune and Weiss?”

Weiss looked at Ruby, not like her work now was anything confidential, just not something Ruby liked to talk about specifically. It hit close to her.

Ruby took a long sigh, she closed her good eye and raised her hand to touch her scarred over right eye, “I’d hate to put a damper on our good moods,” Ruby let out a long breath and Weiss put her hand on Ruby’s shoulder.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you do not want to Ruby, it’s not an easy topic to discuss,” Weiss reassured Ruby.

Ruby looked to Weiss, who has been next to her throughout her whole journey, never questioning Ruby’s judgement, the most loyal person Ruby has ever met. However, Weiss was right, this was not an easy topic to talk about. Especially when this only mattered to her, but she has not discussed this with anyone except her teammates and Oscar. She was reminded of her mother for a moment, and Maria who did not have a lot of information to give her either on the silver eyed warriors. After seeing Salem’s Hound, she promised herself that she would do whatever it takes to end any part of Salem’s tyranny, and as of late Ruby found several lackey groups that still practiced horrid experiments on silver eyed people.

“I could talk about it, but I am not sure where to begin, it is not a particularly easy thing to talk about. You remember four years ago in Atlas, the Hound that was after Oscar and Penny?”

Ruby could feel the atmosphere shift. Weiss raised her hand from Ruby’s shoulder to fix her hair bun. Nora’s shoulders slumped and her eyes darted to the ground. Ren let out a long audible sigh as he straightened in his seat.

Ren spoke first, “It, it is not something I like to think about,” remembering his own impudence, “but I will never forget it.”

“I was thankful that I did not have to see it in person,” Nora added rubbing her lightning bolt scar on her neck.

Ren folded his hands on his lap, “It’s never something I like to discuss either, if the students ever bring it up, I mean.”

Weiss nodded, “Ruby and I have been well…” Weiss looked to Ruby.

“We have been finding Salem’s old research facilities and finding silver eyed people being experimented on.” Ren and Nora collectively gasped. “Yeah, it is not something, well it is not an easy thing to talk about. The hardest part was finding out that Salem, even now that she is gone, still has her clutches across Remnant.”

Weiss rubbed Ruby’s back, “As a huntsman rehabilitations counselor, I focus on finding homes for the silver eyed people who have either been born into the lab, or who have lost family members…” Weiss trailed off looking at her scroll to check any messages.

Ruby picked where Weiss left off, “It is not an ideal situation, but through Weiss’ company we are finding homes that are taking children and teenagers and Oscar is letting adults live in some empty apartments in Vale.

Ren shook his head, “I hate that there are still veins of Salem’s reign throughout the kingdoms, but I am glad that there is you two that are liberating these people.”

Nora placed her hands on her thighs, an exasperated expression on her face, “I have a student with silver eyes, they’re so promising. I can’t imagine anything ever happening to them.”

Ren nodded in agreement, “Yes, they are a wonder, though I am not sure they know how to use their silver eye powers yet.”

Ruby nodded, “It might be best right now, for your student to not know, it will paint an even bigger target on their back.”

Weiss looked to Ren and Nora, of course they would be worried about their students, even though there was peace many dangers still lurked around the corners, still small threats of Salem’s powers.

“Nowadays, huntsmen and huntresses are returning home, all of the small lurking problems are ones for the younger generation now.” Weiss said giving a reassuring look to Ren and Nora.

“Remnant is safe, yes though there are Grimm still lurking about, thieves trying to steal maiden powers or relics, even bandit troops are still around. While these new huntsmen nowadays don’t have to worry about the fate of the world, they are just cleaning up our scraps.”

Nora stood and looked Ruby in the eye defiantly, “Ruby, that is why Ren and I decided to become professors at Beacon. People will always be willing to help those in need and we will be there to offer support, just like our professors and mentors did for us.”

Ruby sniffed and stood to give Nora a hug, “I will always count on you guys to do that for us, and if you ever need a guest talk about the silver eyed warriors or to teach your student how to use their eyes, I am here for you. All three of you.”

“You guys, I love the sentiment, but you should really save your tears for Blake and Yang’s child.” Weiss sighed.

The group laughed. “I am glad our parents were allowed to go into the room with them, but I am a bit jealous,” Ruby said and continued, “Dad is so excited to be a grandpa and I know Kali and Ghira have been waiting for this moment too. I don’t think I have been this excited for something in a long time.”

“I couldn’t wait to meet the little cub since the baby shower, I think I bought too many gifts.” Weiss sighed leaning on her knees.

“I am surprised you still have money after that spree,” Nora said sitting back down next to Ren.

Ren laughed, “I splurged a bit too much as well, almost my whole paycheck.”

“Mrs. Xiao Long-Belladonna! Do not run in the halls!”

The group stood up when Yang burst into the waiting room.

“Yang! Is everything alright?!” Ruby and the rest stood quickly.

Yang ripped the hair cap from her head and pulled her surgical mask down, beaming from ear to ear.

“Guys! You’re allowed to come into our room, there is someone I’d like you to meet!”

…

The gang followed Yang quickly down the hallway to the room. Jaune was waiting outside for them.

“Everything alright still?” Yang asked him, leaning an arm on his shoulder.

Jaune looked to everyone, his eyes heavy, “Yeah, they are resting comfortably. Though, that kid is a fighter, I used up all of my aura.”

Nora stood by her teammate to rub his back.

“We really appreciate it, Jaune. Now guys, please come in.”

The group of seven walked in slowly passing by Taiyang who was standing in the corner of the room, weeping softly. Ruby placed a hand on her father’s back.

“Alright, Dad?” Ruby whispered. Taiyang nodded and ruffled Ruby’s hair. Yang passed by to sit beside her wife. Blake reached up and kissed Yang sleepily. Blake held a bundled blanket closer to her chest and smiled happily to the rest of the gang.

“Well don’t just stand around like that you guys! No need to be nervous!” Kali said grabbing Ruby by the arm leading her to stand by Yang.

Blake and Yang laughed as the group nervously huddled around Blake’s bed. Yang gently touched the bundle which in turn made a soft gurgling sound.

“Hehe, our little guy just ate, he and Mommy are super sleepy now, huh?”

Weiss raised her eyebrows and stared at Yang, “A boy?”

Nora and Ren bumped fists, “We knew it!” Nora cried.

The baby moaned a bit at the sudden loud noise and Blake and Yang were quick to reassure their newborn son. Ruby and Weiss shot Nora a look and Ren rolled his eyes.

Blake laughed after the baby calmed down.

“Sorry, Blake. I know you’ve had a hard day.”

Blake laughed again and looked at Yang, “Nora, this was one of the happiest days of my life. He was a sucker to push out, but I would do it all again to share this moment with the person I love the most and my most prized possession, our son.”

Ruby smiled and moved closer to Yang, “So, are you going to introduce us then?”

Weiss grabbed Ruby’s arm, Ruby leaned in closer to Yang, and Ren, Nora, and Jaune linked together.

Blake unwrapped the small bundle a bit where two little, folded blonde cat ears stood up.

Weiss teared up, “He’s beautiful, Yang, Blake”

Yang smiled and kissed the small head, “Well, I mean he came from the most beautiful woman on Remnant, of course he’s beautiful.”

Blake and nearly everyone in the room rolled their eyes.

“Yang, please. I love you, but please.” Blake pleaded, “Even the baby hated your joke.”

Yang chuckled, “No, he didn’t. Look at the perfect little kitten.” She said taking the small baby’s hand.

“So,” Ruby pleaded her eyes beginning to water, “What is his name?”

Blake and Yang looked at each other then to their son.

“Everyone, I’d like you to meet Dusk Yin Xiao Long Belladonna”

#rwby #ruby rose #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #lie ren #nora valkyrie #jaune arc #bumbleby au #bumbleby #future au #rwbabies #bumblebabies

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rosencrantzsguildenstern · 3 years ago

Text

I posted 1,409 times in 2021

202 posts created (14%)

1207 posts reblogged (86%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 6.0 posts.

I added 1,539 tags in 2021

#queue - 511 posts

#chitra.txt - 230 posts

#text - 188 posts

#media - 148 posts

#books - 119 posts

#fandom - 113 posts

#wtnv - 70 posts

#ragad - 63 posts

#fashion - 52 posts

#hmc - 45 posts

Longest Tag: 137 characters

#also sometimes my brain just decides to get much more random lines of dialogue stuck in my head for no reason. so those came to mind also

My Top Posts in 2021

[image id: a dnd alignment chart meme where types of comments in reblogs are categorized, with ‘people who add image ids’ being lawful good, ‘people who add sources or links’ being neutral good, ‘people who add on funny comments to their mutuals’ posts’ being chaotic good, ‘people who only talk in the tags’ being lawful neutral, ‘people who never add on or tag anything’ being true neutral’, ‘people who add on funny comments on posts by people they don’t know and make them blow up’ being chaotic neutral, ‘people who commentate on every post’ being lawful evil, ‘people who associate everything with a fandom and add comments that bring posts onto [fandom]blr’ being neutral evil, and finally ‘people who add on to start shit with op’ being chaotic evil. end id.]

an observation of tumblr culture

160 notes • Posted 2021-08-23 02:04:55 GMT

[image id: the ‘sometimes you just need two men’ meme (a poster pinned up advertising two men who were willing to do odd jobs, complete with flexing arm clipart and a spiel about how they’re also best friends and how ‘you will receive not just the strength of our bodies but the strength of our emotional bond as well’) where the ‘two men’ are rosencrantz and guildenstern and some of it has been edited. their names are written underneath like in the original but in a way where it’s ambigious who is who, ‘we know hamlet’ replaces the ‘we are burly’ of ‘we are two men, we are burly, we’ll do what you want’, ‘we have been friends for over 14 years’ is replaced with ‘?? years’, and the phone number after ‘hire us’ is replaced with ‘just send a messenger’. end id.]

claudius voice wow hamlets onto me,,, i know what i need. 2 men

223 notes • Posted 2021-09-14 01:09:53 GMT

genuinely shoutout to welcome to night vale for having been running consistently for 9 years with no planned end date be almost at 200 episodes and still hold up. like so many things can fall apart and get a bit shit but pretty much the only negative thing that’s happened to night vale is ads. the characters develop the plot feels fresh and new the energy stays the same. it’s a good podcast i think

366 notes • Posted 2021-11-18 08:21:25 GMT

See the full post

534 notes • Posted 2021-11-03 04:10:35 GMT

not to be hunted for sport on tumblr but i have a very big issue with how representation in media is discussed here. the podcasts you are praising do not have good rep. tell me how many people of color are in that mainstream podcast of yours that has ‘SO MUCH REPRESENTATION OH MY GOD HOW AM I EVER GOING TO GO BACK TO CISHET MEDIA AFTER THIS’. how many of them have central roles? you may be represented- we are not. podcasts are one of the most white gay forms of media i have ever seen. if you’re going to reply to this with a recommendation of a podcast featuring people of color, i appreciate it, but know that i listen to and seek out podcasts like that already and that does not counter the fact that podcasts popular on tumblr for their representation tend not to have good representation of people of color. they are almost always made by queer (or, less commonly, cishet) white people as well, diminishing poc voices especially in the writer’s room, which is where it really matters. the problem is not that you are listening to them and supporting them, but that you are praising them for representation with little to no critical thinking about how race is presented.

2180 notes • Posted 2021-01-01 02:05:50 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

---

wow this one blindsided me because i forgot like the entire first half of 2021 existed and in the first half of 2021 i hadn't revamped my blog

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #<- default tags #chitra.txt

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my-brothers-corrupted · 3 years ago

Text

Book Four - Part 10

Anti brings the others to help him get Dapper back from Dark, leading to an all-out battle with a half-dozen different sides.

Tws for imprisonment, physical fighting, and fire.

Part 10 - the Houses in the Woods

Anonymous asked: Trick? Dok? You going down too?

“Come on,” says Trick, taking his hand.

“Can’t they handle it?” asks Dok nervously.

“Bud, come on, I’m not going to let him hurt anybody.”

Dok looks at him as they head down the stairs together. He doesn’t know when Trick made it his responsibility to stop Anti from hurting them, but, proud as he is that Trick is stepping up, he doesn’t think he likes it.

Anonymous asked: Dok, we need your necklaces Trick we need you to be behind your true family. We're nearing the climax, and the heroes will either win or lose against the beast among them.

Trick and Dok exchange glances as they reach the door. Trick’s eyes flicker to the necklaces on Dok’s throat. Dok squeezes his hand, frowning. After all they’ve been through together, Trick can feel the rift in the air between them like a physical force.

We’re not on the same side, he realizes a little numbly.

Dok pulls away from him to check on Red, crouching down beneath Anti timidly and taking Red’s head into his hands, examining the goose bump forming on the back of his skull. Trick goes to Anti, clutching his hands and pulling him back from Red.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he says. “Can’t be hitting him.”

Anti’s eyes seem to burn, and not just from Blue’s stolen fire. He clutches Trick to his chest and glares around at his siblings, bitter and violent.

“You’ve got fifteen minutes to get ready to go,” he spits at Blue and Red. “We’ll go get Dapper back. If you fail me, maybe I don’t have any use for the two of you little traitors anymore.”

“What am I going to do?” asks Blue, bewildered. “I can barely walk most of the time.”

“Dark’s whole territory is hidden in a mirror dimension, just like that stupid convent where the magicians kept Dok. You have to open the mirror so we can get in.”

“But - I don’t know how,” protests Blue, blinking.

“Well, you better find a way to jog your fucking memory, hadn’t you?” snaps Anti. “Otherwise maybe I’ll have to worm into that head of yours and dig the recollection out.”

Blue and Red exchange looks, alarmed. Anti stalks past them, pulling Trick with him as he goes.

“Whoa, Anti, hold on, I want to talk to - ”

“Dok can have you back when he has those necklaces off his goddamn throat,” spits Anti, yanking him down the hallway.

“But that’s my - ”

“You want to start causing me problems too, Trick?” shouts Anti, whirling on him.

Trick’s lip trembles. He lets Anti lead him back towards their room.

Anonymous asked: You can have your true name soon, Ro. It'll all be okay soon. Hold on for us, Jackie. Losing a small battle doesn't mean you're losing this war.

Red pulls Blue to his feet and they stand together, turning to see Dok padding listlessly after his twin. Blue moves to go after him, but Red pulls him back.

“Do you remember anything about mirror dimensions?” asks Red.

“No,” answers Blue. “No, it’s totally random, out of nowhere. How would I know anything about that?”

“He seems to think you would.”

“Well, if I did, he took the memories from me.”

Red sighs. “Maybe it’s a muscle memory thing? Those are different than memories of actual events or memories of everyday facts. Maybe once we get to the mirror it’ll be an everyday fact thing.”

Blue shakes his head, biting down hard on the nail of his thumb. “He’s going to possess me again if I don’t remember,” he whispers.

“You’ll remember,” Red insists, but even as he says it it doesn’t feel true. If Anti doesn’t know and Blue doesn’t remember, who would?

Anonymous asked: Do you remember the early days Trick? Where you and Dok desperately tried to save the Henrik and Chase within you, having to watch Anti tear the two of you apart day after day. The snake in the rabbit's den. Don't let him steal your heart from your family. Trick, you need to find the Chase within you that you and your twin fought so hard to save in the early days. You need to be their guard, their hero, before Anti kills them or worse.

Trick’s face scrunches up with distress. He pulls on Anti’s hand, looking back at Dok, staring miserably after him from the back of the hallway.

“Let me go with you and the others,” pleads Trick.

“What? No. You could get hurt.”

“So could they!”

“I don’t care about that,” spits Anti, pulling him to his chest. “You’ll stay in your room.”

“I want to be there if something happens to you,” Trick insists, gripping his hands. “I’ll stay back and I’ll cover you with my gun. Anti, you’re upset, you’re getting into a fight, you don’t even trust the others right now. Let me go with you. As a guard. That’s all.”

Anti softens a little, gazing at him. He pushes Trick gently towards the stairs. “I’ll… think about it. Go get dressed. We’ll see.”

Trick obeys, moving to get his gun and some better clothes.

Things are complicated in his head right now, but you’re right about one thing: he needs to be their guard.

scunneredzombie asked: Red, do you remember at all the password that Henrik used when you were sent back in time last time? Or Dok, do you remember anything you were told by the magicians?

Dok frowns, turning back to the others. “I remember… Nina would speak to the mirror? And it would let her step through it. I remember that when you’re in the mirror, it’s like a loop no matter how far you walk.”

Red nods slowly, glancing between the pair of them. “Right. When Dapper and I went back to the - I mean, I remember something. I think we lived in a mirror like that too, one Blue made for us to be safe in. I remember we had to speak to it too to get out. Like a password. ‘Amo, vale.’“

Blue laughs weakly. “That means ‘I love you, goodbye.’ Or almost, anyway.”

“But when Nina left the mirror, she said something in Spanish,” says Dok. “Not ‘te amo’ or anything like that, I don’t think. If it is like a password, I bet it’s unique to every mirror.”

“So how do we figure out the password?”

Anonymous asked: Hey Shep, no idea if you have a camera right now, but you know anything about mirror dimesons by any chance? Just random curiosity!

“Well, I don’t know anything about them, exactly, except that Dark and Wil made one for the houses,” answers Shep.

He’s walking around the forest, still looking for Noodle. Determined.

“It’s cool, I guess. Kind of weird. You can really get stuck in a place like that. And we’re supposed to be really careful with it, because if we break the mirror, you can sever the connection to the real world and lose whatever’s inside.”

Anonymous asked: Is there anything funny Wilford says every time he goes into the mirror? He's always really funny, I'd love to hear more of him! Or something Dark says? I'm really curious about you guys.

“Come on, guys,” laughs Shep. “I know you have to say something to get in there. It’s my home too. I’ll give you a hint… Dark’s told you their password before. Did you think that the only thing it would give you access to was a website? They always wanted you to come and find them. Find the truth, they said.”

Shep steps up onto a log, balancing on one foot. “Oh, yeah. And it’s also a son of a bitch to have to read that out every time I want to go home!”

Anonymous asked: Geez, I'm getting whiplash from your overwhelming favoritism, Anti. Don't want your favorite boy to get hurt? So you'll probably lock him in the room again, all alone and miserable? What will happen to him if you don't come back from Dark's place, uh? If you lose, you're just going to let him pathetically wither away, is that it?

Anti shrugs, glancing at Trick as he walks away. “If I can’t have him, he may as well die.”

Anonymous asked: Lmao sorry Shep, not trying to treat you like you're dumb, we're just used to dealing with a very manipulative demon. I am genuinely curious about you all, and thanks so much for hunting for Noodle, you epic hero man. Big hearts your way!

“I didn’t take any offense, no worries,” answers Shep mildly. “And yeah! Ask me anything anytime. I like talking to you… for a long time I figured nobody was interested and maybe that’s why I got thrown aside. Yes, I’ll look for the cat, and then you’ll have something to remember me by this time!”

Anonymous asked: Jackie, Marvin, this might be a long shot, but when you get to the mirror, try reading out this: Lh3EeEeR9z59YWcUB2b7ViHJ8ALQ637

“What sort of a fucking password?” Blue demands.

“Dok, will you memorize this for us?” asks Red.

Dok turns and reads it over. “Okay, got it.”

“That Dark thing really is cruel if it’s making everybody read that out to get in there,” grins Blue.

Anonymous asked: Oh my god, the heist code is the mirror code? It's so convoluted though! How are you guys not getting locked out with that?

“Wilford never remembers a letter of it,” laughs Shep. “But he can transport in and out anyway. And the twins, they usually come in and out with someone there to help anyway, because they’re developmentally delayed. All the rest of us, we write it in our phones or memorize it. It’s actually only the first eight letters that are the code, so it’s not so bad.

It’s just how Dark does things. They’re obsessive over all of Mark’s projects… they hate him, but they fixate on his videos and stories. When Mark found out they actually gave out the password to our home, he only laughed, though. Dark just wants direct contact with the audience, and Mark will never give it to them, but they try at every turn.”

Shep pauses, glancing at you, the camera tucked into his pocket as he searches for Noodle.

“I don’t care that you know, but just don’t tell Dark you heard anything from me.”

Anonymous asked: Remember guys, it's a tool of gaslighting when your abuser tries to convince you that you're a "traitor" the second you stand up to the abuse. Don't let his manipulation sway your thoughts. You are not traitors. You are escaping an abuser who has pummeled you into dirt for years, years of pain and torture. It is not traitorous to stand up for yourself.

“And he can’t mock me for being autistic like that,” grumbles Red, pushing at his hair. “I struggle with myself enough already.”

“He can’t just take Trick away from me,” agrees Dok, his eyebrows drawn unhappily together. “He’s just being a control freak, punishing me for trying to stay away after he said he would kill me!”

“The only reason Dapper is gone in the first place is because Anti was bargaining with our lives for his and Dark’s entertainment,” adds Blue. “We can’t let this keep happening. He doesn’t really care about anyone but himself. Even his favorites are getting hurt and now Trick is being locked up like Dap. We have to find a way to get all of us away and finish Anti the fuck off.”

Red flinches, still not comfortable with the idea of killing Anti, but Blue and Dok just meet each other’s gazes, steadfast.

Anonymous asked: Jackie, why are you uncomfortable with it, if I can ask? He just confirmed he never loved you, he's threatening to kill all of you, saying Trick is better dead than free, he let Dapper get stolen and taken away from safety and his medicine. He's going to be the death of all of you unless you get to him first. It's looking like it's the only way to save them. Be their warrior, protect them now when they need it most.

Ro turns away from you, a flash of anger in his face. He doesn’t answer.

“Roser,” says Blue.

Red waves him off, stepping out of the room and walking back down the hallway.

Anonymous asked: Also, guys, be very very careful, you can't break the mirror while JJ is in there, or apparently you risk losing everything and everyone inside.

“Oh, fuck, okay,” says Blue, nodding his head. “Yeah, we’ll be real careful. Thanks, guys… I don’t know how this would have worked out without you. I think we’ll go pretty soon. Are we… ready for that? Last words before a big fight?”

He looks at Dok, who looks back, not able to give him a smile. He touches Dok’s head and pulls him to his shoulder, knocking their heads together.

“Nothing’s going to happen to you,” he says.

“You don’t know,” answers Dok frailly.

“I’m going to find a way to get you away from him.”

“We’re still not all on the same page,” murmurs Dok, closing his eyes. “That’s what the magicians told me, again and again. That we have to all be fighting him. And we’re just not, Blue. Trick still loves him. Dapper doesn’t even seem to remember what it’s like to hope for something better. Are the three of us enough to do this?”

Blue sighs, rubbing his shoulder. “We’re just going to see how this turns out, honey.”

Anonymous asked: Trick, sometimes when life is scary, you’ll want to go back to where you understood it. But you can’t go back, whether you want to or not. Understanding will come, but you have to fight tooth and nail for it. Fight through the haze and claim your mind for yourself again.

Trick sits on his bed, staring at Anti as he moves around their room.

Anti plays with his appearance in the mirror for a few minutes, looking pensive, but then you see frustration and pain on his face, and he just transforms back to his usual self - green hair, black tee, ripped jeans. He glitches again and again as he moves, out of control and looking tired and pale, rummaging through the drawers in case there are any weapons he wants to hand out before they go.

“Anti,” says Trick quietly.

“What?” asks Anti.

“You would never really kill one of the others, would you? That’s just your temper.”

Anti plays with a whip, turned away from him. “Sure,” he says flatly.

Trick sighs, rubbing at his head. He gets to his feet and moves to Anti’s side, trying to get his attention. Anti dives back into the drawers. Trick grabs his arm and pulls him back.

“Hey,” he says. “Talk to me. What is going on with you lately?”

Anti sulks, shaking his head, but he doesn’t yank away from Trick’s grip. He plays quietly with the holster on Trick’s waist, tapping at the gun.

“Just angry,” he grumbles.

“Yeah, I’d be angry too if someone I was into started acting like they don’t know who I am, but that doesn’t mean you get to take it out on us.”

“Well, they ran away!” shouts Anti.

Trick grabs his face between his hands and kneels down beside him, drawing his gaze.

“I love you,” he says. “But the reason they ran away is because the way you’re treating them isn’t right.”

Anti wilts a little, glaring at the floor.

“We’ll figure it out afterwards,” he growls, getting to his feet.

Trick sighs. “Go easy on them for my sake if nothing else.”

“Yeah, sure,” mutters Anti. “Whatever.“

Trick squeezes his eyes shut. He doesn’t want to feel like this - like you’re understanding Anti better than he himself is these days. He doesn’t want you to be more true than his brother.

But he also doesn’t want to believe that he’s not thinking for himself anymore. This is what he really feels, isn’t it? This is worth putting up with? This is family?

“Are you sure about this?” he asks.

“About what?”

“Going after Dark? Shouldn’t we maybe, like, talk to them before starting an actual fight?”

“They made the choice they made,” says Anti quietly. “And they took Dap. No more talking unless they’re groveling beneath my heel.”

Anonymous asked: You might not all be on the same page, and hell, maybe a couple of you are in different chapters entirely, but you're all in the same story. The others will have to go at their own pace as best they can to reach a good ending for all of you, okay? It won't be easy and it won't be perfect but the most we can do is try.

“And that’s what we’ve wanted all along, right?” murmurs Blue, touching Dok’s hair. “A chance to try. To get away. To protect each other.”

Dok nods, trying to smile.

“Today,” says Blue softly, reaching down to touch a necklace on Dok’s throat. “I think we might get a chance to use some of these.”

“Okay,” says Dok, nodding again. “Okay. It’s going to be okay.”

He’s scared to be tortured again. He doesn’t know if he could survive that. But Blue is here, gripping his hand, and he knows that at the very least the two of them have each other.

It’s going to have to be enough for now.

Anonymous asked: Anti can and would kill them. He /has/ killed them. He used to kill Red and force Dapper to turn back as punishment. He stabbed Dok in the lungs for trying to protect Dapper. As long as he has time travel, he'll kill them without a second thought just to punish the others.

Trick sits back on the bed and shudders.

“We can’t keep living like this,” you hear him whisper, as Anti busies himself around the room.

Anti steps back towards him. “Ready to go?”

Trick sits up, looking pale.

“Yes, Anti,” he says.

Anonymous asked: Trick, sad to say you'll be living like this for as long as you belong to Anti. Anti will never change, and he will never stop hurting you to make himself feel stronger, locking you in rooms to feel like he owns you, killing and torturing your brothers as punishment. He cannot, and will not ever control his temper. You're going to be stuck here until he's gone. You will not escape abuse unless you leave the abuser.

Anti steps close to Trick on the bed and takes the camera from him, turning with a sudden force to throw it against the wall, smashing it into pieces. Trick flinches and Anti laughs, touching his cheek and leaning down to kiss the side of his face and knock their foreheads together.

“Come on, then,” he says, stroking his hand down green hair as you watch from the camera in the corner of the ceiling. “Let’s go. I need to know I have at least you on my side.”

Trick looks up at him, eyes wide. For a moment, his eyes flicker over to you.

He takes Anti’s hand and they move down the stairs.

The farther they wander, the darker the trees.

“Is this Dark’s doing?” whispers Red. “Or did they just pick the blackest, deadest part of the forest they could find?”

“It’s Dark’s doing,” hisses Anti. “Now shush.”

The trees stare down at them, sunless monoliths looming like gods over their heads. Birds flitter about like rodents through gutters, but not one of them sings, and the buzzing of insects appears only for a moment before a bigger creature comes to snap grasshoppers and flies up like deviled eggs eaten in one mouthful.

“Are we close?” asks Dok, stepping over the ashy graveyard of what was once a great redwood. “Blue is tired.”

“Why are you here again?” snaps Anti.

“Dapper’s sick, Anti,” Trick reminds him. “Dok needs to look after him.”

“I’m sick of the lot of you,” answers Anti, which makes Red snort despite himself, trying not to laugh. Anti raises an amused eyebrow at him.

“Come on,” he sighs. “Here’s the shed.”

Inside a shed in the forest - which Anti has mostly smashed open in the hopes of ticking off Dark - there is a mirror taller than they are standing against the back corner. Anti pushes his way inside and spiders scutter away from the dim light. Dok leaps back, nearly running back the way they came, and stands back from the shed, watching his feet.

“It’s okay, man,” calls Trick, helpfully squashing spiders beneath his heel. “I got it.”

“Go on then,” says Anti, shoving Blue’s shoulder. “Top magician. Jack’s special boy. Didn’t do you much good in the end.”

“Step off, Anti,” Blue spits back, stalking towards the mirror. “You’re just lucky the cameras helped us with this.”

Anti leans against the wall, picking at spiders while Blue and Dok and Red try Dark’s password. After the first eight letters, the mirror changes. There is no longer a reflection of Blue, tired and pale, in the glass - instead, it looks out like a window onto a trio of houses in a grassy field.

Red and Blue exchange glances. Anti and Red exchange glances. Dok sees a spider by his foot and yelps.

Red puts his hand to the mirror, curious. Slowly, his fingers pass through the glass like water. He draws back again, eyebrows raised, and turns to look at Blue.

Blue is gone.

Anti straightens up in his skin, cracking his neck. “Ready?” he asks.

Red gapes, shaking his head.

Anti punches his shoulder and grabs his sleeve. “Come on, so,” he says.

“Go in there? Get Dapper?”

“I should never have reset you. You and I used to go sneak into shit and take what we wanted together. I hate that the violence is gone from you. You were more fun before I gave you Blue. Don’t know when I managed to ruin you so badly.”

Something about his tone makes Red flush, his heart aching. He looks away, mouth taut, and sucks in a breath. Looking up again, he finds Anti looking back at him through his twin’s captive eyes.

“Fine, then,” says Red, straightening. He turns his body towards the mirror and grips his hands into fists. “I will get him, then.”

Anti passes him a fighting staff. Red blinks and takes it into his hand, remembering the weight and feel of it from a time he no longer recalls.

“After you,” says Anti, pulling a knife from Blue’s jacket.

Red moves through the mirror and into Dark’s home.

“Be good,” calls Anti, clucking Trick’s chin once before following after their older brother. “I’ll be back very soon.”

And then Trick and Dok are alone in the twilight forest.

Anonymous asked: Don't let your loyalty become slavery, Trickshot. Know when to let go, know when you're being held back instead of driven forward, know when their desires drown out your own. Never compromise on self-respect.

“All these messages are for you,” mumbles Henrik, sitting down on a rock in the earth and looking the camera over in his hands.

“They’ve been talking to me a lot lately,” Trick answers just as quietly, but he won’t look back at his twin. He waits at the door of the shed. In his hands, Dok’s gun.

“But you don’t listen,” Dok guesses.

Trick doesn’t answer.

“You’re letting Anti treat you like his toy,” says Henrik, turning away from him. “Won’t see the truths they tell you.”

“Dok, let’s not start, not now, c’mon. Been days since I seen you. I thought… maybe Dark had you.”

Anonymous asked: If you don't confront it and talk through it with us now, then when will you, Trick?

“Mhh,” groans Trick, looking away. “We’re busy…”

“You don’t want to ever face it,” says Henrik. “But one day, it will be in front of you, and you will already be too late to act.”

“I won’t fail to protect you again, Dok.”

“You cannot see the things that hurt me. You are blind to them. They will hurt me again. You will watch.”

“I mean it,” says Trick, loud. “I don’t want to talk about this right now. For real.”

Anonymous asked: Be strong Trick, and more importantly be /you/. Be the man who would do anything for his family, the person who lets his twin massage him when he's been guarding for hours on end, the person who whispered secret names across the room to your brother. You need to protect your family, your real family. You have a choice coming up, man. Your brothers, or your abuser.

Henrik watches his brother for a long time. Eventually, Trick glances back at him, eyes uncertain.

Henrik smiles.

Trick relaxes a little and comes to his side, sitting down with him. After a moment, he puts his head on Dok’s shoulder and fixes his eyes on the shed.

Watching. Waiting. Guard dog.

Dok massages his back so he won’t get stiff. Trick smiles. They sit in the wind of the trees together.

“We are making decisions these days, aren’t we, mein zwilling?”

“Not between you and Anti, though,” murmurs Trick. “Not making decisions like that.”

Henrik sighs, his hand around his arm. The distance between them has never gaped quite like this.

“It’s sunset,” says Trick. “Are you going to say the Shema?”

Henrik blinks. “I haven’t said my blessings in a long time.”

“Oh. I thought maybe you still said them in your head. After you stopped saying them with me.”

Henrik shrugs.

“You don’t anymore?”

“I feel far away from the Lord,” he says, very softly, staring down at the earth beneath his feet. “And lately I am not the sort of man who is strong enough to keep my eyes on Him while the valley of the shadow of death is around me. I am dry bones in the desert. The blessings begin to feel pointless. I can’t even keep track of my own holidays. Candles on Hanukah… it’s nothing. Or very little. I can barely remember the inside of a synagogue. I feel far away from my community. I feel far away from everything.”

Trick shuffles, frowning at him. “You didn’t tell me you were feeling like that.”

“No. I guess not.”

“You usually talk to me.”

“You’re not a Jew, my friend.”

“But you tell me things like that. You used to. We would say the blessings together.”

“I feel far away from you too,” whispers Henrik.

Anonymous asked: In abuse there's always a 'honeymoon phase' where the abuser apologizes and makes promises to change. But the tension builds, some false law is disobeyed, and another abusive incident happens. Fish and chips, a warm kitten, treats and gifts and Hanukkah candles are all false apologies for behavior that will never change. One reason it's so hard to leave is because you always want to believe they can change. But all the self-improvement in the world won't fix the way they hurt you in the past.

Trick bites down on his lip, his hands soothing along his gun. He looks between you and Dok. “It’s not a honeymoon phase… Dok-Dok, I’ll talk to Anti about you going to services - ”

“Don’t,” says Henrik dryly. “Don’t, I don’t want you to. They’re right. He doesn’t care.”

Trick shakes his head, putting his chin in his hand as he looks up at his brother on the stone beside him. He doesn’t know if he should say he’s sorry or get angry at him or reassure him or what. He never seems to know lately. Feels cold in the air between them. He hates that. All he’s thought about for days is the things that Dok would do to cheer him up if they were stuck in that bedroom together, and now he can’t even comfort him.

He closes his eyes. For long minutes, they wait.

“I’ll say it for you, then,” says Trick.

Dok looks up. “What?”

“The blessing,” Trick says, mouth set. “If you don’t feel like you can have faith right now, I will.”

Dok’s lips twitch. He shakes his head at Trick, trying not to grin. “You don’t know it without me.”

“I do!”

“No way.”

“Shema, Yisrael,” begins Trick. “Uh.”

Dok laughs. Trick laughs too, but he’s determined. He keeps going.

“We’ve said it together often enough. Shema, Yisrael, Adonai Eloheinu. Adonai echad…. wa-hafta… w… v'ahav'ta eit Adonai Elohekha m'odekha…”

Dok looks at him, beginning to smile.

He doesn’t pronounce all of it right. He might skip a word or two, and, as always, he stammers. But he fumbles through the Hebrew with his mouth full of love for him.

And as he goes he begins to hear Henrik whispering the English alongside him.

“And you shall bind them as a sign on your hands… and between your eyes… and you shall write them on the doorposts of your home and on your gates.”

They are looking at each other. Trick grins. There is sunset light in his eyes.

Henrik puts his arm around him again and they sit side-by-side.

Anonymous asked: I know you can feel the divide between you and Henrik, even as anti-blinded as you are, Trick. You know you'll have to make the choice between them eventually. It isn't a betrayal to escape your abuser. It isn't traitorous to hate the person who's hurt you. The choice will ultimately be yours, but you have to realize and wake up to the distance between you before you can even come to that. Anti won't change, Trick. How many times has he promised to be better, only to hit you the very next day?

“He has hurt you,” says Trick, his voice very low. “Hasn’t he?”

Henrik presses his head against his shoulder, hiding just a little. “And you too.”

“No… not on purpose.”

“If you have to start by believing that he hurts me, then yes,” says Henrik. “Yes, he has, and he will not stop.”

Trick sighs. “Well. Then… I think you should go.”

Henrik sits up straight, staring at him. “What?”

“I think you should go. Like you want to. You’re an adult, Dok. We all are. We should get to choose. Right?”

Henrik touches his hair. Henrik beams.

“Yeah… yes, of course. But not without - ”

“No,” Trick cuts him off. “Not now, bud. Okay? Let’s just… chill for a bit. It’s going to be okay. And if Anti hurts you again, I’ll stop him.”

“That’s not your job,” says Henrik, as though wounded.

Trick squeezes his hand. “Are the others okay?” he asks you.

Anonymous asked: Red, how goes it? Find anything yet? Dapper is in a clinic room with barred windows last time we saw him

“Stay back here,” Red warns Anti, pushing him back into the trees. “You might use him like he’s at a hundred percent, but Blue’s sick. Be gentle with his body.”

“Get the boy back for me and I won’t have to use him rough,” says Anti, stepping back into the shadows.

“Okay,” sighs Red. “Anything I should be worried about?”

“Everyone in there is either an imbecile, a powerhouse, or both,” answers Anti. “Have fun.”

Red turns towards the house, clutching his fists together. Okay. He’s got this.

Red stalks around the house, swift and quiet, darting through the grass and staying out of the sight of windows. There are three houses. On one of them, he can see Dark and Wilford on the porch, talking and playing with an enormous dog. There’s a movie playing in another, and Red can see a man inside driving a toy car around the carpet. The third house is still until a little brown cat slips out of it and darts away. Red will check out all three in turn if he has to.

Anonymous asked: Hey Shep! You should tell us about you guys' houses. Where is everything, and why does everyone live in separate places?

“That’s it, I’m coming home,” laughs Shep, turning back towards the houses. To be fair to him, he’s been out in the heat for hours and he’s a sweaty mess. “Uh, well, Dark lives in their house ‘alone’… we all know Wil sneaks in there half the time and Google spends most of his days guarding the place like a loyal little puppy. He takes so much pride in being Dark’s weapon, he’s nuts. Won’t listen to anyone else, though.

“We come and go with the other houses. They’re damn empty these days. But Host and Google and Wil and I have our house, and sometimes Ippy comes back to stay for a while. Eric and the twins are all that’s left in the other house. Sometimes Illinois, but he’s in Mexico right now. I miss Bing, shit. I miss a lot of them.”

Anonymous asked: Dapper, you awake? Back in the early days of us talking to you, you said you would only be free if all of your brothers were as well. Well, Dapper, we're doing our best for you, because we care for all of you so much. Jackie, Henrik, and Marvin are on the side of freedom so far. We will keep you safe, and we will protect you any way we can. Wish us luck, Jameson.

Dapper is drawing on the walls.

It’s been his favorite pastime for a long time, ever since he realized Anti wouldn’t punish him for making the house his canvas. His biggest piece was in a defunct pen manufacturer in Sweden, where they stayed for about two weeks, during which time he covered an entire industrial wall in an image of the very ugly aliens from A Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.

Today he draws Anti in cheap pencil lead along the wall of Ippy’s clinic, coursing the point along the curve of Anti’s curving smile. He looks happy in the picture. His hands are empty and open.

Dapper turns at the sound of the beeping and smiles at you, though you see a glassy film over his fevered eyes and a tremble in his artist’s fingers. His face softens as he reads.

“I care for you too,” he tells you heartfully, touching his chest. “All of you, thank you - for being here, for keeping me company, for all of it. And you know I’d always wish you luck, my dears.”

Anonymous asked: Hey uh, dapper? Are you feeling alright? You look a little bit... off

“I am not really recovering from this whole sickness thing that is happening,” he answers unhappily, rubbing at his eyes. “I’m tired and hot and my head aches. I can’t keep any food down, including most of my medicine. And Dark was right… Anti helps with my psychosis.”

Anonymous asked: Jackie, methinks you should avoid the house with Dark on the porch unless you can't find Dapper in the other two. Google is guarding, and Silver Shepheard is on his way back. Try to avoid a fight and be sneaky if you can.

“Kinda want to poke the bear, though,” admits Red, narrowing his eyes at Dark. “They have to pay for this, the fucking cock-jockey.”

His own insult gives him a burst of confidence as he slides past Dark’s house. A black and brown cat watch him disdainfully, waving their tails at him.

“I’ll check the other two first. Thanks, guys. I just need to find a way to get in and get him out… or get him out from outside.”

Anonymous asked: Anti helps superficially, but you know what would help more, JJ? Seeing a psychiatrist to get a mood stabilizer to assist your Haldol, seeing a behavioral therapist to help deal with symptoms, and being free from a constantly traumatizing environment. You need stability and the help of doctors. Things are probably extra bad right now due to being a hostage in a strange environment. You're not hopeless without Anti, millions of people like you & I cope and live good lives w/o mind demon's 'help'.

Dapper shrinks in on himself a little, playing with his hands. He stares at Anti’s eyes on the wall.

“I remember… getting better while we were all at home, without him,” he signs quietly. “Even the paranoia - and the paranoia is always the worst - even that was better. And whenever I started talking to my hallucinations, the others would have me go stand in the laundry room, and then after a while I could take ten minutes in the laundry room and come out and the hallucinations would be so much easier to deal with. Just from having that organization in my life. And I took a couple medications and nobody got mad at me if I was delusional or disorganized or acting really weird. And I had a therapist who signed. And I went to church and the priest would give me confession and I didn’t feel like I was going to hell. And nothing ever hurt me.”

He looks down at his hands.

“It was easier.”

The admission seems to have taken a lot out of him. He slips back down onto the bed, sighing.

scunneredzombie asked: Dapper, is there a window or door near you? Red is here to get you, but he needs a way to get you out!

“Yes, there’s a door, but it’s locked, and a big window, but it’s barred.” He frowns at you and makes prayer hands. “Tell him come bust me out. I sure can’t fit through those bars unless someone wants to shrink me and put me in their pocket. Like a little hedgehog…”

He begins sketching a hedgehog by Anti’s foot.

scunneredzombie asked: Rojo, be on the lookout for large, barred windows, probably the second of the houses?

Ro creeps around the first house, narrowing his gaze at Dark, his hands still aching for a fight. For now, though, he’ll have to focus on getting Dap to safety.

He moves around the second house, slipping down beside a cracked window to listen inside. There’s a television playing a loud cartoon. Lifting his head a little, he can see the man with the toy car driving it around the carpet and talking to himself. There is a whole crate of toy cars. On the couch, a second man sorts patiently through them, occasionally holding a little figurine up to the light or racing it along the arm of the couch, making vrooming and beeping noises. Red sits back a little, rubbing his palms together as he thinks. He wants to wreck some havoc, but not in front of a pair of twins who aren’t causing any harm and don’t look like they’d be able to comprehend someone trying to hurt them. They’re all clean and content-looking, playing with their cars. Red sighs. Having innocents around makes things harder.

It always does, he thinks to himself, and he feels more than recalls a memory from two weeks ago - Anti taking him and Dapper to kill the man who owns the house they’re staying in now. His stomach churns and he digs his nails into his palms. He still remembers the blood-craze in Dapper’s eyes as Anti helped him bury a knife in the man’s chest - and then, moments later, the hopelessness.

“Come on, Red, come on,” he mutters to himself, creeping around the back of the house.

He doesn’t see any barred windows. He glances into the clearing between the three houses as he waits for his chance to dart over to the third house.

Dark is on the porch of the first house with another one of his soldiers, someone with a voice so loud and booming Ro can hear it from here. His hand is on Dark’s waist as he chatters at them. Ro remembers the weight of Max’s hand on his waist… the smell of him…

“Goddamn,” he hisses, slapping himself. Lately he can’t focus on anything. He’s just… sad. He pinches his arms until he gets some clarity back, gnawing on his lips.

“Dapper Dapper Dapper,” he chants to himself, and it’s this thought that carries him over to the third house, where, at last, he spots a little barred window in a window well to the basement.

Anonymous asked: Jackie, we believe in you! Hero of the day, the hero of all time!

Ro gives a shaky little laugh, but you’ve put a grin on his mouth. He darts over to the window, feeling sneaky and maybe even a little bit competent, which is nice. Maybe he’s even acting a little like Jackie would act. The thought gives him a strange, nervous satisfaction.

“Dap,” he whispers, tapping his knuckle cautiously against the window. He can get his hands through the bars, but not much further.

Something shifts in the room. He squints his eyes through the dim light of the basement room and sees a nervous pair of big blue eyes looking back at him.

“It’s me, dude,” he whisper-hisses, glancing around.

Dapper’s eyes water with relief. He pushes the window open, leaving only the bars between them. At this angle, Red can only just brush his hand against his shoulder, reaching down into the window well, and he can hardly see his hands.

“Are you okay? Shit, I was worried, Carve. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here.”

Dapper grips his hand and squeezes in forgiveness.

“How do I get you out?”

There’s those big puppy dog eyes. They’re familiar, sure, reassuring and maybe even cute, but not problem-solving. Red squeezes his hand back and tries to think.

“I’ll have to come inside… or get the bars off. Unless you can shrink? Have any Borrower friends in there that could help? Maybe some mice and birds, Cinderella-style?”

Dapper pinches Ro’s hand and he laughs despite his rising heart rate, more and more anxious the longer he crouches here.

Anonymous asked: Dapper was right Anti, you're such a fucking creep. Dying his hair green and roleplaying like he's Jack but still forcing him to love you unconditionally. Touching him like you love him when he's just an object to you. You don't deserve any of the love any of them have given you. You're disgusting.

“He belongs to me,” answers Anti coldly, leaning back against a tree as he keeps an eye on the houses, waiting to see if Red will fuck up or bring Dapper back to him quietly. “I can do what I want with him. Jack never gave me anything but lemons - fine, I’ll make lemonade. Besides, let’s not pretend Chase would be anything at all without me. He’d just be childless and drinking himself to death in the backroom of their house like he was before I kidnapped him. This whole crusade the lot of you have, trying to set them free… pointless. You won’t make them any happier. He’d be miserable with a taste of freedom. You know, if Jack wanted his little protagonist to actually be able to save the day, maybe he shouldn’t have made him so helpless. Huh, like fucking Chase Brody could have ever done anything about me… well, he’s mine now, so there’s your story, Jack. There’s your fucking story.”

Anonymous asked: Hey Anti, this is important. Dapper /needs/ to see a proper psychiatrist, just once or twice, so that he can get a mood stabilizer and other medicines to assist his antipsychotic. You can't neglect him like this, he's schizophrenic/psychotic, treatment and constant medication updates are the only way to truly help him be better. Constant mind manipulation only makes things worse for him if he's away from you even for a short time.

Anti’s eyes flicker over to you and then away again. He’s playing with fire on the ends of Blue’s fingers, eyes flickering from the white light of it.

“Mh,” he shrugs, uncertain. “I don’t think I want him talking to anybody outside of the house. If he needs a mood stabilizer, talk to Dok and have him talk to me. It’s like American health care! You gotta get a referral. Besides, if being away from me makes things worse, then I’ll just have to be better about making sure he isn’t away from me again. Not even for a short amount of time.”

He drops a flame to the earth and then stomps it out with his foot, his gaze watching as though infatuated as even a moment of fire singes a whole patch of earth and sets leaves to blazing. He bets he could burn down this whole forest if he wanted to… maybe set all of California ablaze. Again.

“Letting Dark take Dapper was my fault,” he tells you quietly. “I overestimated how much they cared about me. Let them fool me. It was stupid. It won’t happen again. Not with anyone. Dapper and Trick… they’re reliable. No one else. Almost makes you wonder… if anyone else is even worth trucking with… mh.”

Anonymous asked: Without Blue, you'll have no one to possess: Dapper might snap and Trick can't handle it. Killing Dok would be the worst possible thing you could do if you still want Trick on your side. And like it or not, Red is your watchdog and the others protector. If you kill any of them, the others will turn.

Anti glances at you, his stance softening a little. He shrugs.

“I guess you’re right,” he says. “Just lately feels like more trouble than they’re worth. I think Jack made five to make sure it was too much for me. Maybe it’s just time I started admitting that. Trick and Dap would be cute twins. I could make Trick forget, and I think Dapper would only be sad for a while, cause it’s not like it changes much for him.”

He pauses, digging his heel into the ash of the forest floor.

“No… you’re right, though. I think. Yeah, I can still use them. They all take care of each other - yucky, but necessary.”

Anonymous asked: Anti what will you do if Dapper breaks? And I don't mean just emotionally or mentally because obviously you only see that as minor maintenance. What happens if he can't use his time travel again? Will his loyalty still matter or is it just his power that you use him for? Is he only worth as much as his usefulness to you?

Anti plays with the bark of a tree, picking at it until new growth sprouts from the side of the trunk. He peels it off again and grumbles to himself for a moment.

“I’d still want him around,” says Anti. “I guess. I mean, he’s - like… he’s the only one who… I don’t know. He’s comforting. Fine. But I don’t know if that’s because of the power or because he’s always been mine. I’ve hated not having him with me these last few days. It’s like the whole world is wrong. And when he was in Columbia, I felt like I was going to implode. Like I was going to die. And I was sick at the time, with Blue’s power eating me up. I wondered if maybe I would die before I could ever find him, and not even know if he was okay.”

He plucks apart a leaf from the offshoot he created, tearing it into pieces, which drift towards the forest floor.

“I wasn’t sure if he’d grieve,” he adds. “If he’d grieve if I died.”

Anonymous asked: They don't belong to you, Anti. You don't own them, they're adults that are fully capable of making their own decisions. They have the right to leave you whenever they want, because you abuse them and refuse to learn to control your temper. You're immature and treat them like toys, but they are autonomous human beings that deserve to make their own decisions. Why don't you test it, if you think they love you so much. Just let them go and see if they crawl back like you say they wil. I doubt it.

Anti grits his teeth. The truth is that Red was willing to leave him the moment someone else showed him that he could have a life outside of Anti, and the thought devours him. Blue was only ever here for his siblings.

“Look, I don’t pretend to not be a monster,” he snarls. “Fine, some of them don’t love me. No matter how much I use the hypnosis… it’s not real. But guess what? I don’t care. They still have to belong to me. They’re not getting away from me. Not with air in their lungs.”

Anonymous asked: Dok isn't a psychiatrist, Anti. It's two completely different fields of medicine. JJ needs to see specifically a psychiatrist. Hell, I don't care if you go to the appointment with him, but you need to let him see someone to get his medicine adjusted. Think about it this way, how much use is he to you if you're constantly having to mess with his brain and ward back his psychosis, when you can easily get the same effect with just a few trips to a psychiatrist and a less stressful environment?

“Dok’s supposed to be Jack’s genius. If he can’t handle Dapper’s issues, nobody can. Dapper has always done fine, with only a couple exceptions. Actually, I think the paranoia sometimes makes him sharper, more alert, and the hallucinations keep him scared and confused. He won’t leave me when I make him feel both sane and terrified, when he thinks he’s too much for anyone else to handle. As long as he doesn’t snap completely, his illness is a benefit to me.”

Anonymous asked: Anti, I think you're so insistent that they would never be happy with freedom because you can't stand the thought, the truth, that every single one of them would be better off without you.

“How about you all stop trying to piss me off before I decide maybe you aren’t all worth dealing with either?” snaps Anti, pointing at you in accusation. “Fuckers. All you do is plot against me lately. It’s barely even fun. Maybe I’ll torture the lot of them just to see you whining and begging again.”

Red squeezes Dapper’s hand one more time before sneaking around the back of the house, where a glass-paned door looks into the kitchen.

He could try and get in here. He could try and get the bars off Dapper’s window somehow. Or he could ask for help.

It’s as he’s thinking that he notices movement -a figure entering through the front door, their gait thudding and their shoulders set like a statue’s. Red catches a gleam of light through their glasses. Gigi moves like a bear, his every footstep heavy and determined. Ro narrows his eyes.

“Well, then,” he mumbles, tucking you deeper into his pocket. “Do I tangle with that or try something else?”

Anonymous asked: I would try something else instead of trying to tango with Gigi. He's a robot, so he wouldn't go down like a regular human, and the commotion caused by that fight would draw too much attention.

“Oh, boy,” says Ro, drawing back from the door. “A robot, okay. Well…”

He could maybe climb the house. He sees an open window. If he listens, he can even hear a deep, sonorous voice speaking from inside it, as though narrating.

“Mh,” he says. “Could maybe get up there. I can see places to put my feet already. Or maybe… Dok’s necklace? For Dapper?”

Anonymous asked: The voice from the window is a blind man who sees All. Probably not a good idea to try sneaking by him. And... as for the necklaces, if you use it for Dapper, then you won't have it for Anti. Make sure you've exhausted all other options before that, Jackie.

“Okay,” murmurs Jackie. “Well, I think we’re looking at either man-who-sees-all or robo boy. If I have to fuck with one of them, who do I go for?”

Anonymous asked: Dapper's mental health got better when he had both mood stabilizer and other medicines to help with his other symptoms. You need him /healthy/, him being paranoid and hallucinating isn't good for him. You switch so fast between caring about him and tossing aside his issues. Anti, it would take a very simple set of changes in yourself & your personality for them to stop running and conspiring. You can change. You're not incapable of it. Start small, let him see a psychiatrist. Small things first.

“I’ll think about it, alright?” Anti says, turning his head away. “I got bigger fish to fry right now.”

Anonymous asked: Hey, Trick & Dok? Do you think it would ever be possible to get Anti to let Dapper see a psychiatrist and get medicated properly? I know you don't remember, but before Anti took you all away from your home, Dapper was getting better. He wasn't stuck being constantly psychotic and afraid, he was healing. He needs therapy and proper medications. I don't think Anti would ever give him that, he has too much fun abusing him, but... could you try?

“I’ll help convince him,” promises Trick right away, nodding. “If he needs that, then he should have it. You can get his medication fixed, right, Dok?”

“No,” says Dok, exasperated. “I’ve never really known what the hell to do with him.”

“Oh. Well - ”

Something snaps in the forest. Trick is on his feet, gun pointed.

Silence. A flicker of movement. Dok and Trick are taut as the bow of a violin.

Anonymous asked: Shep? Is that you?

You can see Shep on the other side of the trees, frozen as stiff as the twins. His gaze flickers nervously over to you and then back to the twins, his fists clutched. He doesn’t even have his knuckles with him. He didn’t actually think someone would be here. No one’s ever come to their house before. He pulls out his phone, backing away from the trees.

“Who’s there?” shouts a voice. He stills, staring at Trick through the trees.

Red should sneak into Host’s room.

Dec. 12 2020

3 notes

Red should go in through the backdoor with Gigi.

Dec. 12 2020

1 note

Red should try something else.

Dec. 12 2020

2 notes

Anonymous asked: Trick don't shoot. It's someone who lives in Dark's house, but he's unarmed. Just be careful and try to come up with an explanation for why you're there?

Trick lets his gun falter, glancing over at Dok.

“He already knows who you are, right?” signs Dok. “Will he try to kidnap you again? Kidnap us?”

Trick grits his teeth and steps closer to Dok, blocking him from Shep’s view.

“You leave us alone!” he shouts. “You come any closer and I’ll shoot!”

Shep backs away again, nervous. He opens Gigi’s name in his contacts.

Anonymous asked: I dont know if there's anything else you could try, Red. But if there is, def look at it. Otherwise, between Gigi and Host, I think at least Host could possibly be reasoned to/ spoken with? Gigi is a no-go. Hes 100% loyal to Dark, and an android, so he'd be HELLA hard to fight. And also he'd alert Dark. Host, im not quite sure exactly where his loyalties lay, but im sure he's hella powerful. So use your words before you try and fight him.

Ro presses himself against the side of the door and hoists his body up. This isn’t like the house where he and the others are staying, lined in decorative brick to give him footholds. Instead, windows make his only path up. While his hands find a grip on the tops of the windows, he suspends the rest of his body with his side against one jutting windowframe and his feet pressing against another, and slowly leaps and drags himself up the side of the house, his worn sneakers threatening more than once to make his foot slip and his body fall. The black and brown cats are watching him from the ground, blinking up at him as he goes.

But he won’t. Today, he’s Jackie, and he doesn’t think Jackie would fall, so neither will he.

“On another day,” comes that chasm-deep voice from the open window on the second floor, “he might have been fine. The Host is not always looking. Today, he is.”

Ro pauses, hiding against the side of Host’s window, one foot on the side of its sill.

“Is he going to turn back?” asks Host in a murmur. Craning his neck, Ro can see the man bent over braille paper and a recorder “Or will he still try to sneak past him? In a trance this deep, it’s possible Host won’t be able to do anything about it anyway. He does not like to interfere with other people’s stories.”

Anonymous asked: Shep, wait, please don't call anyone who would hurt them. Theyre only here because they're following orders.

“What do you want?” calls Shep, a faint shake in his voice.

“How about the little brother you stole?” spits back Trick. “No, stay back! Stay back there, I swear to God.”

“You need to get out of here before I call Gigi,” says Shep. “Or worse, Dark.”

“No, don’t,” protests Trick. “Please, we just want Dapper. Nobody has to get hurt. We’ve had enough, okay?”

Anonymous asked: Just let Jackieboy Man's story play out, please, Host-we-love-the-most. He deserves to be the hero again after all he's been through.

Directly addressed, Host comes out of his narration a little, brushing scattered hairs out of his face. He runs his fingers over his papers, jerking back a little.

“Fuck, what a mess,” he mumbles. “Too many players in this game. How long have I been writing?”

Ro’s foot slips for a second and he catches himself quickly, thudding against the side of the house. He winces hard, closing his eyes in panic.

Host chuckles inside the house.

“Come in, then,” he says. “I’m not meant to interfere, you know…”

“Who are you?” cries Ro, heart pounding.

“Ignore me,” answers Host. “I’m just the storyteller. You are the action-taker.”

Ro rolls his eyes, biting down hard on his lip. “You’re really not going to snitch if I come in your room right now?”

“No.”

Ro pauses. Scratches at his beard. Glances at the trees, where a pair of squirrels are judging him from a few feet away.

He slips into Host’s room.

Anonymous asked: Trick, should you just take Dok back to the house? Shep can and will call help if you don't leave. I don't want you guys to have to get in unnecessary fights. I'm pretty sure Jackie and Anti can handle it from here, yeah?

“If we go back we’ll be in so much trouble,” breathes Trick, frightened just at the thought of it. “He told me to guard the way, so I can’t let anyone in or out.”

“Why do you have to do what he tells you?” asks Shep.

“Why do you have to do what they tell you?” answers Dok bitterly, standing up beside his brother. “At least Trick doesn’t notice when he’s being used as a pawn. You know you’re that monster’s little soldier and you still do horrible things just because they tell you to. Pathetic. You stole our sick, speechless little brother just because Dark and Anti decided our lives were board game pieces to be played with. You just let yourself be used, no mind control needed.”

“Hey!” snaps Shep. “You better watch your tongue, little man! I make my own goddamn choices. Your brother is the one who would have killed Gigi if he were human just because Dark wouldn’t kiss him.”

“Dark and Anti are not creatures to be trucked with,” says Dok quietly. “But we have yet to find a way to escape our monster. Turn back. We’re smaller than you, but we are far from helpless with or without a firearm.”

“Look,” answers Shep, biting down harsher words. “Nobody wants a big fight here, right? Seems like Dark and, uh. Anti? Seems like they had a misunderstanding themselves. Maybe we can work this out.”

Dok and Trick exchange glances.

Anonymous asked: Trick, if Shep were to promise to not snitch on you being out here to Dark, then would you let him through? And Shep, would you uphold that promise? Both of you have lost things, you're even in bad deeds. Gigi was destroyed and Dark's back was injured, and Dapper was stolen. No one else needs to get hurt if you try compromising with each other, right?

“I won’t tell Dark for now,” says Shep evenly, hands raised in surrender. “But I don’t think you understand. Dark is an essence and those houses belong to them. They’re always creeping around. If your other brothers are in there, the chances that Dark hasn’t spotted them yet - slim to none.”

Trick and Dok frown at each other, worried. Dok shuffles a foot closer to him.

“I’ll let you through the mirror,” says Trick. “If you let us come with you. I have a bad feeling about what comes next… I think maybe it’s better if we can try to work together. You’re right. No one else needs to get hurt today.”

Anonymous asked: Hey Henrik, answer when the time is appropriate, but advice about Dapper from a training pharmacist, I would try prescribing him Depakote or a common antidepressant to work alongside his Haldol if Anti will let you! I know it must be very hard to have to be a psychiatrist when it wasn't your field of study :(

“Oh, thank you, yes,” answers Dok, his shoulders loosening a little. “Yes, well. He wasn’t on anything when I first… remember. And he didn’t do very well. He would smoke to ease his paranoia, but then he would be paranoid about getting cancer every time he’d cough, so it did him little good. He’d stopped trying to fight his own delusions. Anti was most of his treatment plan, but he acts so dreamy and lost when he’s in his head. Honestly I just kept trying medications til they worked, which probably wasn’t very good for him either. But at least I was allowed to see him and Trick then, coming upstairs to check on him everyday. We were in Sweden at the time, I think. Or Denmark? Before Norway. I was not even sure if we were brothers. He doesn’t speak so much when he’s really ill. He was just my little patient in the attic. He was the one who called me Doktor first.”

He rubs his hands together, glancing up. Shep and Trick talk quietly by the mirror, faces tense and hands always waiting for the other to throw the first blow. Dok sighs, though a faint laugh falls from his mouth with it.

“Oh. I would like to see all of them well for once in my life.”

Red steps uncertainly towards the Host.

“Shy?” asks the deep voice, and it seems to echo through his head. It reminds him too much of Anti and Dark. He slinks back against the wall, cowed despite himself.

“Hmm,” hums Host. “You’re not who I thought you were.”

“Who did you think I was?” asks Red quietly.

“I write a lot of stories,” says Host, brushing his fingers across pages and pages of snow-white braille. “I see a lot of stories. It takes only a side glance. A moment of contact. Stories for everyone I meet. Stories for the people who meet the people I meet. Not all true. Not all real. But possible… possible. Alternatives to the reality we survive in now. I saw, once, a story from a young man Mark shares business with. I thought, for a moment, that you were the protector in that story. The strong man… the hero. Not the protagonist, true. But almost as important. The courage to his tired hands. Defender.”

Ro plays with his hands, his eyes flickering around for a way to slip past Host without coming close to him.

“But you are alternate too,” says Host. “You’re not Jackie. Not quite.”

It makes his blood hot, but only for a moment. For the most part, he feels shame. His head drops. He turns away from an unseeing gaze.

“Guess not,” he answers. “But I still have to try to be… that.”

“Jackie?”

“Yes. Jackie.”

“Well, stop,” answers Host dryly, turning away. “Stupid boy.”

“Hey! What is your problem?”

“Stop living in a story you don’t even fucking remember,” spits Host, already striking his typewriter hard enough to fill the room with click-clacking once again. “Pathetic. You’re wasting a perfectly good character arc on trying to be someone you’re not. You have your own part to play. Jackie couldn’t save his family, Ro. Not for lack of trying, but he did fail, in the end, and that’s why he’s dead and you’re not. If you want to give him life again, it’s time to stop wallowing in your doubt and your fear and your shame in yourself and start being Ro like a real hero would. You better start acting like a hero – today, Roser. Too long the five of you have been stuck in the same painful narrative. Take up arms. Stop trying to remember and be.”

Host turns to him again, and Ro has never seen so much expression in a blindfolded face.

“Or lose more than even Jackie did.”

A cat slips in through the door, mewling, and comes weaving her way through Host’s legs, pinning Ro with a yellow gaze. He steps back nervously, staring at the cracked door. His throat bobs in a swallow. He grips his fists, straightening up at Host.

“What if he’s not enough?” he asks quietly.

“Who?” says Host.

“Me,” he answers.

“Of course he’s not enough,” spits Host, shaking his head. “How dull would it be for a character to be enough all on his own.”

Ro opens his mouth to reply, but Host beats it to him.

“Google!” he calls, turning towards the door.

“Fucking snitch!” cries Ro, terrified.

“There’s a closet across the hall. Run inside. You can sneak past him when he comes in to check on me. This is the only help I will give you. Go.”

He’s too frantic to argue. In a flash, he’s leaping out of the door of Host’s room and shoving himself into a closet full of cleaning supplies on the other side of the hall.

“Host?”

Those thudding footsteps move up the stairs. A fist pounds a knock against Host’s door. “Are you stuck in a vision? If you haven’t left your room since I checked on you this morning, you’ve been static for four hours and twenty-three minutes, including our usual breakfast hours and…”

Ro darts out of the closet on near-silent feet, racing down the stairs with his heart pounding. He throws himself against the wall for a second, thinking someone’s coming in the front door, but it’s just the second cat he saw, a big black cat like a shadow against the wall, letting out a hiss at the sight of him. He races down the second set of stairs and through the little hallway that frames Dapper’s door.

“Dapper!” he calls. “It’s me, I’m here.”

Faint whistling from the other side of the door. Red shoves his shoulder against it, tearing at the handle. It will not open.

“Fuck this,” he mumbles, and a moment later he finds himself ducking into a bathroom nearby, tearing the lid off the toilet tank, and slamming the porcelain into the handle of the door until both shatter and give. The door slides open.

“Dapper…”

There’s his little brother, curled up all lonely on the bed. In the light, Ro can see him clearly at last, and the relief of finding him comes charged with a painful nausea for how ill he looks. It’s worse than a hollowness, because Jamie has always been skinny. It’s worse than fatigue, because Dapper has always been tired. It’s worse than shadow, because his youngest brother has long felt alone. Now, he looks chewed up and spat out, cut open and removed from himself, faint and white and exhausted. He does not rise to hold Red. He can barely raise a hand to greet him.

“Bud, no,” says Ro, because his first thought, in that moment, is that Jameson is going to die.

He moves forward to scoop him up for a moment, pressing him to his chest. He can feel the heat on him before he’s even touched him. Sweat beads against Red’s fingers where he cards his hand through Dapper’s mussed brown hair, gone limp and tired, no longer curling at the fringe.

“Can you walk?” asks Ro, drawing back to hold his shoulders in his hands.

“Not sure,” answers Dapper, touching his wrist. “I feel really quite unwell, Red.”

“They haven’t taken care of you.”

“No, they tried,” protests Dapper. “They’ve given me medicine for my fever and things like that. Kept my wrist clean. I’m much better off than I was a few days ago.”

“Fuck… you could have died if that’s true.”

“I think maybe I would have if I stayed with Anti,” says Dapper, lying his head down on his brother’s shoulder and letting his eyes slip shut.

Red hugs him, grateful for the thudding of his heartbeat. As much as he knows they need to go, he needs even more to feel his chest moving with air, if only for a moment.

“You really are just not having a fun life, are you, Dippin’ Dots?” he says, the weight of it sitting on his chest.

“There are parts of it that are nice,” replies his brother, his hand resting on Ro’s shoulder.

“I’m going to get you out of here,” says Ro. “Like I promised.”

“Okay, Reddy. I’m really quite tired.”

“Okay. Okay. Here we go.”

He raises him into his arms, pressing him close against his body. He’s always tried to stay strong no matter how little he had to eat – not always successfully or healthily – but as the months have gone on he’s been finding his old strength. After wasting away in Norway, he built up corded muscle in Peru with long, difficult hikes up the mountain every day, bringing water and medicine and Christmas presents to his family, and in the past few weeks, with both Max and Anti, he has had good food and plenty of time for the exercise his body has craved. Host was right: now is the time to be strong.

He’s stepping out of the clinic room when he sees the big black cat again, darting away from him now, its fluffy back turned to him.

“Hey,” he laughs. “Did you follow me down here?”

And then, at the top of the stairs – black shoes and dress pants. The thud of a cane against the wood of the floor.

Ro back away, mouth taut, and he watches as that black cat, so dark that the light does not shine gold on its fur, dissolves away into the crowd of shadows that swarm like a cloak around Dark’s dead, rotting body.

“Spy cat,” Ro says. “Pretty sure that’s cheating.”

“I could see you the moment you stepped foot into my territory,” answers Dark, in a voice like a wind through cold water. “Your soul is so frantic it burns just to look at it. Even the ocean of silver power from the little one does not wash your color away.”

“Oh, what color?” asks Ro, curious.

“Not red,” comes the dry reply.

Dark takes a step down the stairs. Their body seems to jolt for a second, and then they must sit down, pain tightening their features.

“Heard my other little brother fucked you up pretty good,” says Ro, taking another step back towards the clinic. “Still not fully recovered, huh? I think I’d be a douchebag if I made fun of you for having a broken spine, but I’d like to offer a generalized ‘fuck you’ if that’s alright. You can’t even get down these stairs to get me, can you?”

Dark vanishes back into smoke and bursts into being at the bottom of the stairs, bone shifting in their broken face. Red yelps and puts Dapper on his feet, turning to wrap his body around him.

“Your little monster will pay for his over-powered tantrum,” says Dark.

“You stay the hell away from us!”

“I’ve never seen anyone as simultaneously intriguing and annoying as he is. But no matter. Soon, I’ll snuff his bright lights out and tear up both the natural and the stolen powers inside his chest, and then he will stop haunting me.”

“You take one more step towards me and I’ll call for him!” shouts Red, extending his fighting staff and whirling on Dark. “And this time he’ll fuck up more than just your back!”

“Call for him, then,” sneer a dozen echoing voices at once, and as Dark’s power begins to fill Red with terror and revulsion and confusion and grief, he puts his hands over his ears, opens his mouth, and screams for Anti.

And in the woods, Anti hears.

Anonymous asked: Anti, don't be brash and let your temper control you. Fight with the wit even Jack knew you had.

Wit – wit, yes, well, this at least keeps his gait steady as he moves Blue’s body through the trees, eyes fixed on the house where he can see his oldest gripping his camera. What you say is true, as he was always Jack’s little killer, clever and powerful, manipulative and built with an instinct for fighting more commonly found in a marten who plans to make a porcupine twice its size into dinner. He was patient, in the beginning, and sensational when the time came for him to cut that porcupine open, and it was his wit, yes, that lead him to capture all five of the brothers Jack created, one after the other, remorselessly.

And yes, even Jack knew he had it.

He remembers the sound of his voice the first time he made his eyes bleed. He wiped the sleeve of a black hood across his stained cheek and met his own gaze in the mirror, and he saw Anti more clearly than he ever had before.

“This one’s wild. Already smart enough to try and get through to the audience. Like it knows…”

His fingers touched his reflection in the glass.

“Hey. I see you. I’m here.”

His fond mouth smiled.

“Don’t be scared.”

Anti remembers.

Does Dark not?

Does Jack not?

It hurts to bear the thought of it, the thought that they really and truly forgot him. He hates it. He hates that you mentioned it. That Dapper keeps saying it. That he doesn’t know what’s happening anymore and he feels alone.

That he sometimes wishes he were still just a notion curled, warm, in the back of Jack’s head, listening to him chatter and breathe.

No. No use for nostalgia now. What he wants are the people he can still have – his Trick, his Dapper, his brothers.

He’s done a lot of bad things to them. Cruel, unbearable things, without reason. But if you give him credit for one thing, let it be this –

Oh, Anti taught his boys to be fang-toothed.

“Where’s my little soldiers at, so?” he sings to himself. “Dok, Trick.”

You see the twins perk up and look over as Anti sends his own message through the cameras now.

“Go find your big brother, Trickshot, and start fucking laying waste. And you, Deutsch – get my little Carver, now. And if anyone tries to put their hands on him – teach them why I use you for torture.”

Steel makes their fond mouths harden. They glance at Shep, and then away.

“If that is what it takes,” says Dok.

“Then consider it done,” Trick finishes.

And he touches his reflection in the clear glass of the mirror, and moves.

Anonymous asked: Alright so we're just going in guns blazing. Dok, Trick, you have any idea of where to go?

“Well, I am guessing it is this house which is all shadowy and dramatic,” says Dok, lifting his chin at the third house, where Dark’s power has cast everything in late-night lighting.

“Hey, you’ll regret it if you go rushing in there at Dark,” warns Shep, shoving himself forward. Trick steps up to him before he can reach Dok, raising his head in warning.

“I have left my little brother to rot too many times in his life,” shouts Dok, moving towards the house even as Wilford steps out of Dark’s house to see what’s going on, smoking languidly as darkness curls around his feet. “He asked me to fight for him! So I will.”

“If you’re coming, then come,” says Trick. “But don’t try and stop us getting Dapper.”

“Fine! Just try not to piss Dark off anymore, for all our sakes!”

Anonymous asked: Hey Silver, I think you should probably go with Trick and Doc. If things get crazy (and they probably will, lbr), it'd be good to have someone reasonable around. I know you can't go against Dark, but I also don't think you want to see anyone get hurt. This is admittedly a big step up from asking you to look for a lost cat, but can you do it for us?

Shep stares at the wash of shadow growing over the corners of his home. He runs after Dok and Trick, expression torn, and when Anti glitches into existence in the doorway of his house, you see him fall back in alarm, eyes wide.

“What’s going on?” he hears Gigi shout from somewhere inside. A sudden thrill of fear pours adrenaline into Shep’s blood, remembering all too clearly the way Anti shattered the android last time they met.

But Anti glitches away before Gigi can reach him. Google snarls, slamming his fist against the door and stepping out to look around. Trick and Dok have already hidden, tucked against the side of one of the other houses. They’ll sneak around the back and get in through the door there, hoping to find Dapper. Shep stares around in a mild panic - but eventually, you see him set his mouth and glance at you. He follows after Dok and Trick.

Host trails out onto the porch after Google, lighting a cigarette with a cold grin.

“This,” he says, “is going to be good.”

ari-trash asked: So you're just going to watch the chaos unfold, Host? You're just going to stand back and let it all happen? Well... at the very least I hope it'll be entertaining enough for you

“Been boring as shit lately,” mutters Host, smoke wafting from his mouth as he breathes out. “I been waiting for Dark to bring me home some fucking chaos. Whole reason I stick around. Nobody gets in to as much bullshit as this family. Google, do you remember when Bim hired an assassin to kill you?”

“Host!” shouts Gigi. “Who’s in the house!”

“I’m blind, Inspector Gadget, figure it out for yourself.”

“Dammit, Host!”

Anonymous asked: Ro, you're gonna be okay. Just keep with Dapper okay? Help is coming

“We’re okay, we’re okay, we’re okay,” chants Red like the words are stuck in his mouth, over and over again. He backs away, wrapped around Dapper, hiding his face in his chest. Dark steps towards them with the thud, thud of their cane, eyes white as spoiled milk. “Help is coming, help is coming, help is - ”

“Hey!” shouts Anti.

Dark stops.

Anti stands at the top of the stairs, haloed in his own venomous, glitching light in the midst of Dark’s shadow. Green and red and cold blue light. He is beautiful and hollow. He is a grave waiting to be filled.

“Stop,” he says quietly. “Back off.”

Ro sees Dark’s mouth curve like a planet.

“Hi, handsome,” they taunt softly, inclining their head, gaze still boring into Ro.

Anti does not taunt back. His shoulders are drawn back, his head low. Blue’s eyes are like the broken edges of a piece of shattered glass.

“Done playing,” says Anti. “Get away from them.”

“I just want to talk,” they answer, extending grey hands like a crucifixion.

“Liar,” says Anti.

Dark turns to him.

“What do you want?” asks Anti, revealing just a moment of weakness.

Dark meets his gaze like a predator circling.

“I don’t know anymore,” they tell him. “For you to stop bothering me?”

“Liar,” replies Anti, very quietly. “Liar.”

Dark grits their teeth.

“I would like you to stop being the ghost that follows me everywhere I go.”

Dapper shivers in Red’s grip, his legs giving out slightly. Dark and Anti glance at him as he crumples and Anti reaches for him for a moment, gaze breaking.

“Back off,” says Anti, stepping down the stairs. “That’s mine. Enough. Enough games. Done playing. Why don’t you come pick on someone a little less mortal, you fucking slug?”

Dark extinguishes all light in the room. Red shouts, scooping Dapper right off the ground. In the shadow, only Anti is visible, Blue’s face lit with his myriad of spasming colors.

“Fine then,” comes Dark’s voice, and you hear their echo give a hissing laugh. “As you wish.”

“Red,” says Anti. “Get him out of here.”

And then he is under attack.

Anonymous asked: Trick, Dok, how bad is it looking out there? I think you guys have a chance but you'll have to hurry, maybe ask Shep which house had Dapper. He's still following behind, yeah?

Shep sighs, reaching out to take Trick’s sleeve, pulling him towards his home. “Come on,” he says, hissing to keep his voice low. “We’ll go round through the back door and get your brother. You can take him while Dark and Anti keep each other busy.”

“Into the darkness?” asks Dok.

“Dude, it’s pitch in there,” agrees Trick, eyes wide. “We won’t be able to see.”

“Can’t you call for each other?”

Dok and Trick cross their arms over their chest, glaring.

“Oh, that’s right… uh, well, he can whistle or something, right?”

“We don’t have much other choice,” sighs Dok, letting his arms fall. “He’s probably scared in there. Maybe even having an episode. He could snap.”

“I bet Red’s found him and they’re keeping each other safe. But we need to get them both out - Dark has a pretty strong effect on the both of them.”

Dok bites down on his lip, reaching tentatively for the handle of the back door to Shep’s house, behind which, nothing but darkness awaits. He hears a slam and the telltale buzz of Anti’s power, so loud it almost feels like it’s making his whole head vibrate. Dark shouts and Anti snarls back at him, indecipherable from the other side of the house.

“Okay,” he says. “Let’s go.”

You plunge into shadow together.

Anonymous asked: Duck and run Red, get yourself and Dap out of there

“Come on, bud, let’s go.”

In the darkness, Dapper is almost completely unable to communicate with him. He feels him trying to sign, but they don’t have time to stumble through it, much as he hates to ignore him. He throws Dapper’s arm over his shoulder and moves towards the back door. Black as it is, Ro does not stumble for a moment. He saw the hallway once and that’s all he needs, same way he can take one look at a building before leaping up the side of it like a pine marten or a slightly over-sized squirrel.

There’s only a second where he pauses.

Dapper’s fever-heat warms his shoulder. He can hear his little brother panting in the darkness. Behind them, Anti shouts and snarls, locked in battle, and Red - oh, he can’t place it, much as he wants to, but a part of him knows he’s been here before. Not here, in this house, but… here.

“We were… trying to get away?” he hears himself mutter. “And you were sick… I needed to get you… home. To England.”

Dapper turns his head towards him in the shadows, mouth parted.

“But I couldn’t get away from Anti. Jackie couldn’t get you away from Anti. And then… Red stopped trying.”

And in the darkness, in the pitch black, Ro feels his little brother move his hands against his chest.

“He did not stop trying,” JJ tells him. “He just… needed to forget for a little while. Because he was in pain. He never stopped trying.”

Ro feels something sharp and tight in his chest.

“Here now,” signs Jameson, touching his heart. “You. Here now. Don’t be sorry. No more being sorry.”

No more being sorry.

“Come on,” murmurs Red, pulling him through the darkness again. “I gotta get you out of here.”

No more being sorry. It’s a waste of time. He needed to forget for a little while, but not anymore. Time to be what they need him to be. Doesn’t matter if that’s Jackie or Ro or Red or a little bit of all of them.

He won’t fail again.

Anonymous asked: Red, take Dapper towards the back door, if you remember where it is. Trick and Dok are trying to find you. Escape while Dark is distracted.

Red crashes into Shep headfirst and you hear them both yelp, drawing back from each other, but then Trick is hissing Ro’s name and reaching out blindly for his brother. Ro recoils when his fingers find his face and Trick knows it’s him, letting out a weak laugh. Ro grins at the sound of it, relaxing, and moves towards him.

“I’ve never been so glad to see you,” whispers Trick. Ro grabs his wrist with a grateful squeeze and feels how good it is to be on Trick’s side like they were always meant to be.

“We gotta go,” he says. “Come on, back towards the door.”

“Dark and Anti are going to hurt each other,” protests Shep. “Are we just… not doing anything about that?”

“Let’s just get out of here first,” hisses Dok, pulling them all back towards the door, and moments later, they stumble out into the light with sighs of relief.

aether-mae asked: Maybe you boys should stay out of anti and darks squabble. Let them brawl it out in the dark like the heartbroken lovesick monsters they are

“I think they’re right,” agrees Dok, already taking Dapper’s face in his hands to look him over. “Oh, my poor buddy.”

Dapper smiles wearily at him.

“Let’s get you home, yes?”

“We are far away from home,” signs Dapper, slumping against his shoulder. “But I would like to go back to bed.”

“I’m getting him out of here. Come, we should all go. Better to be far from this.”

Ro glances at Trick, and then at Shep, eyes narrowed. He can’t read Shep’s face at all - it’s never been a talent of his - but Dok and Trick must have let him come along for a reason.

“I just want everyone to be okay,” grumbles Shep, looking away from Red’s intense gaze. “Anti and Dark fighting like this - it’s stupid. And other people are going to get hurt if this keeps up.”

“Then we should run,” insists Ro. “Right?”

“You might be able to get your family clear, but I have friends in all of these houses,” says Shep quietly.

Ro nods, biting down on his lip. He pauses for a moment to meet Trick’s gaze, and if Shep’s expression is a mystery to him, Ro thinks he recognizes the determination in his brother’s face.

“We’ll stay to make sure Dark and Anti don’t hurt anyone,” he says. “They’re both out of control and we’ve let them play games with us for too long.”

“I’ll stay too,” agrees Trick. “Anti asked me to help Ro. But, Dok - here.”

Trick holds out the handgun. Dok blinks, shaking his head. “It’s yours. You might need it.”

Trick shakes his head back at him. “You have to protect Dap. If someone comes after you, he’s too sick to fight back. Take it and keep him safe.”

Dok takes the gun from him, mouth tight with worry. Trick touches his shoulder and then draws back from him, moving to Ro’s side.

“I need to get the twins before they get scared,” says Shep, glancing back at the second house, where a pair of matching faces are staring out at the growing shadow. “I’ll meet up with you back here and we can figure out what to do once they’re safe, okay?”

Red and Trick nod, stood side-by-side.

“Wait,” says Dok. “If I’m taking the gun, then - ”

He unhooks one of his necklaces and wraps it around Red’s neck. His brother startles, eyes wide.

“Dok, this is your - ”

“Break it and re-tie it if you need it,” says Dok quietly. “It will light up the darkness. It’s a weapon too. If you don’t need it, you can give it back to me. Just… take it, okay? I’ll feel better.”

“Why me?” asks Ro. “Use it to keep Dap safe. Or give it to Trick since I’m the stronger fighter.”

But Dok shakes his head.

“It was always for you,” he says. “Take it.”

The raven rests against Ro’s heart.

Anonymous asked: Keep your peepers people-d, lads.

“Bye,” says Trick quietly, meeting Dok’s gaze.

“I love you,” answers Dok.

“I love you too.”

And for a second, Trick just hates it - the memory it evokes in him, the memory of parting with Dok on the shores of a river in South America, the memory of losing him to the magicians and not knowing if he was dead or alive.

“Hey,” laughs Dok warmly, touching his cheek. “I’ll see you in an hour, yes?”

“Yes,” agrees Trick weakly. “Okay. I love you.”

“We already did that.”

“Well, it’s true.”

“I love you too.”

Dok and Dapper move back towards the shed, hand-in-hand, leaving Ro and Trick alone behind the house.

But only for a moment.

“How touching,” sneers a deep, dangerously steady voice. “That you really believe you can leave this place alive after daring to enter.”

Ro turns slowly, standing in front of Trick.

Gigi glares back at him, hands clenched into fists at his side. A terrible glow rises in his deep brown eyes.

“Is that what we were keeping our eyes open for?” asks Trick.

Red extends his fighting staff.

“That would be it, Trickster.”

Inside the house, Anti refuses to tolerate being blinded.

Fire lights up around him in a circle. He burns in the center of it, eyes glowing dangerously with the light of Blue’s flame.

“You can barely even fucking control that,” says Dark quietly. “It isn’t yours. What a fucking parasite you are.”

Anti leaps forward like a snake and strikes at Dark hard, only for his enemy to vanish into smoke. He makes no witty rejoinder and does not taunt Dark anymore. Dark tries to appear from the darkness to grab him, but Anti is lining the floor of the house in flame, illuminating the shadow. Dark flicks his hand and the fire douses. Anti shouts and redoubles his efforts: his fury overcomes Dark’s power and fire grows in the room once more.

“These floors were nice before you got here.”

“I’ll do the same thing to your rotting flesh!” shouts Anti, lashing out again.

Dark blocks his blade with the stern line of a wooden cane, letting Anti score a gash into the side of it and kicking at Anti’s legs, but Anti is swift and vicious and he leaps back with a snarl on his mouth. The speed with which they fight is alarming, so fast that at some points you can’t tell whose strike is slashing forward. Dark vanishes and reappears constantly, and Anti, though solid in Blue’s form, is so coated in glitching and so quick-paced he almost looks to be transporting himself. Dark is stronger, but their back hurts them, and any blow to their spine or chest could down them. Anti is the more savage of the two, but he is bound to Blue’s skin right now, choosing the comfort of incarnation over the freedom of his natural form.

“You look like a demon coated in fire like that,” hisses Dark, circling him for a moment.

Yes, Anti looks like a demon today.

“But you smell like a fairy. And you fight like a human.”

“I’m worse than all three,” whispers back Anti.

“What, then?”

“Nothing,” says Anti. “But that was always what intrigued you, wasn’t it?”

“Stop acting like you’re something irresistible,” snarls Dark.

“You used to tell me I was,” answers Anti, and for a second, you hear something like melancholy through the anger in his voice. A moment later, it’s gone. He lunges forward again and Dark blocks his knife with the cane before striking him hard in the face, sending blood pouring from Blue’s nose. Flowers burst up between the floorboards where the red blood falls.

“Control your fucking power before you tear the house down!” shouts Dark.

“No,” says Anti. “If you want me to stop, kill me.”

“Little monster, it will be my pleasure.”

But it is now that Dark hears Gigi shouting outside, and not just at Trick and Ro. A glance to the window shows them flame growing around the house as well as inside. The fire begins to lick at the trees. Gigi and Trick are hollering at each other, both blaming the other’s master for the damage.

“I’ll burn this whole fucking forest down,” howls Anti. “You think you can act like you forget me?”

Dark vanishes and reappears behind him, shoving him towards the door, and as Anti staggers they gift him a second blow to the face, sending him crashing to the floor. Dark reaches down and puts their hands around Anti’s waist, gripping him too tight as they haul him bodily out the door and over the porch, sending him crashing down onto the stairs that lead up to the porch. Anti lets out a short gasp, touching the back of Blue’s skull, where blood buds up to stain his fingers like ink. He blows out a breath and leaps back to his feet, trying to buy himself time by duplicating – creating false doubles of himself that look real, until Dark is surrounded by a circling trio of Marvins with hatred burning like stars in their eyes.

But Dark doesn’t press their advantage. Their face is flickering again, revealing short glimpses of that same emotion that Anti couldn’t accept when they were in the woods together: confusion, raw and genuine. Their hands are still held out in front of them, remembering Anti’s waist between their palms.

“Get out of my head,” they warn.

“You get out of my heart!” shrieks Anti.

“I’m not manipulating you,” growls Dark, raising their hands slightly – perhaps the beginning of a gesture asking for a pause.

“Well, neither am I. I got enough going on possessing this body for me to be messing around in anybody else’s head,” answers Anti bitingly, setting his three pairs of identical feet.

“Come on,” sighs Dark. “Do you really expect a soul-sight like me to be tricked by your glitches?”

“Which one’s me then?” shouts Anti, stepping forward, all three pairs of himself moving close, into Dark’s space. “And you know I’m not lying if you’ve still got any sight at all! You know that and you’re still – fucking – acting like this!”

A tree behind the house bursts into flame and you hear shouts and the scattering of squirrels.

But Dark doesn’t flinch.

Anti pants in front of them. After a second, his right hand, duplicated three times, reaches out and grabs Dark’s shirt – the shoulder, the back, and the lapel of their fine black suit.

Dark sets their hands on Anti’s waist.

Squeezes.

Hard.

Feels his solidity beneath their fingers.

Anti closes his eyes, a flicker of pain in his face, but, if only for a moment, you see some of the panic drain away from his white face. The double and triple flicker out of existence.

Anti breathes.

He looks up at Dark and he pulls in air, Blue’s heart racing. Ash in his mouth and hands on his waist.

“Asshole,” he chokes, striking Dark’s chest with a faltering fist. “You liar. You do remember me.”

Dark’s gaze breaks, eyes sliding closed. They squeeze his waist again. Loosen. Squeeze. Loosen. Breathe.

“I think… I do.”

“Why’d you pretend?” cries Anti. “Is it true what you said – my soul doesn’t look the same anymore? Can you see Blue’s power instead of mine?”

“I didn’t remember you,” mumbles Dark. “I still… it’s like if I had been a character in a play, and so were you, and then suddenly here you are, telling me to remember the lines we read. But the part of you I remember – you don’t look like yourself at all. You’re not the character. You’re someone else. Someone I know even less.”

Anti grips their wrist, shaking his head. “Don’t say that.”

“You can’t admit it to yourself,” Dark murmurs, withdrawing slightly. Around them, the heat and smoke is only rising. “That I don’t remember all of it. I can see the fear it puts in you.”

“What am I supposed to believe? Who could have done something like this? Not my Dapper. That’s a lie. Not him. The others have already – have already done what they’ve done. But not him and not Trick. Those are mine. You – you were mine, Dark, fuck you!”

He shoves Dark back and grabs their jacket, pulling them close.

“Tell me you remember me! And you were pretending! And you know me and now you’ll start acting like yourself again! Tell me that, now!”

But Dark is pulling away from him, shaking their head.

“Dark! Tell me that and mean it, goddammit!”

“You are a piece of something now far away from me,” says Dark. “But right now, all you are is a threat, and I will play games no longer.”

“Pangur Dubh!” screams Anti, voice breaking. “It’s me!”

“Wilford,” says Dark.

Anti hears the cock of a gun.

He throws Blue’s body back, falling back onto the porch again just in time for the bullet to miss him. Dark vanishes back into shadow and Anti turns his eyes to Wilford, who isn’t even reloading – just looking at him with a sort of strange pity in his eyes.

Anti –

Oh, fuck.

Shit, he –

He’s had enough.

He’s had enough. He’s had it. Humiliation washes over him so hot and loud it almost makes him dizzy, and Blue’s fragile little body aches against his trapped form even as it protects him from the side effects of stealing Marvin’s power, and he’s tired, and he’s scared, and he wants to go home.

But only for a moment.

Because, for a long, long, long time, he has learned one very dangerous skill:

Turn all of that into rage, and let it swallow you whole.

“Anti, you’re going to burn the whole fucking forest down! Dapper can’t reverse right now!”

“There are still people nearby! Dapper and Dok and others who haven’t hurt us!”

“Make him stop, please, please! Dark, do something, Wil, shoot him, make him stop!”

“Dark, you have to stop this. Where did you go?”

Trick and Red and Shep and Gigi’s voices are lost in the pounding of the blood in Anti’s head. Even Host is retreating now, stepping away from the porch and out onto the grass as the fire spreads, the amusement disappearing from his mouth. Anti chokes on his anger, eyes watering with the force of it, and blood gushes from his throat so fast he’s faint. At this point, he doesn’t think he could control the fire if he wanted to. He remembers Blue’s burst of power at the top of the mountain, sending plant life exploding through the rocks and sand.

Now I’m the one who’s out of control, he realizes faintly.

And a voice in his head answers, pleads, begs:

Anti. Give it back to me and I will make it stop.

Marvin, he answers. I wasn’t lying. I don’t know how.

All six of us and all of these people here are going to DIE, Anti.

Anti feels heat on his face. Ash on his white hands. Smoke in the air. Smoke like flame in the air. And he breathes. He breathes.

So be it.

#chapter four

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cecilspeaks · 4 years ago

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172 - Return of the Obelisk

“Nothing lasts forever” is a phrase with two meanings, and they’re both true. Welcome to Night Vale.

All of Night Vale is aglow. There is music in the air. You know what that means, listeners: the Obelisk has returned. It’s been nearly 8 years since the Obelisk last appeared, but it’s right back where it always shows up, in Mission Grove Park over on the east side, right next to the Wailing Pit. But a little bit south of the Memorial Debris Heap. The Obelisk returns every 5 to 10 years, sometimes as long as 50, and it brings with it joy, anticipation, and a deep fear. A terror so deep in the gut that it feels like you’ve eaten too much ice cream, but in all reality, your body is simply bracing itself for death. The Obelisk has always behaved benevolently, but so hast he sun, and we don’t trust that thing fully either, so I dunno. Past performance is not an indicator of future results. Unlike the sun, the Obelisk radiates a soft blue light, but like the sun, the Obelisk makes a lot of noise. In particular, music. The obelisk sounds like a Bach concerto played like a French horn and a theramine from inside a refrigerator. Everyone in town is gathering at Mission Grove Park to see the Obelisk in person, to pay homage to this rare visit, and to confront their fears head on. Hopefully everything works out fine, because there are some cool events I want to get to this weekend, and it would be terrible to have to cancel them over a rogue obelisk.

Let’s take a look at the community calendar, shall we? This Friday night is opening night of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Tony-winning musical “Sunset Boulevard” at the Night Vale Community Theatre. I’m very excited to finally see this show, it’s supposed to be a really lavish production, too. And it’s based on one my all time favorite Billy Wilder films about an aging silent movie star who finds an amulet that lets her travel in time, but whenever she moves through time, she enters someone else’s body and can’t leave until she saves her life. This staging of “Sunset Boulevard” is directed and produced by… oh my god, Susan Willman?? Really? Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeerrhooonestly, this has been a pretty long week and Iiii might need to just rest at home on Friday. I mean I’m not trying to be rude here, but Susan Willman is the worst! Did you know she once judged the chili cook-off, and I came in third? Third! Behind Joel Eisenberg, which is fine, Joel’s an OK cook, but also behind who else? Susan Willman! You can’t be a judge and win first place. I’m also pretty sure Susan used a prepackaged spice mix in that chili. [laughs oddly] I don’t have that verified through a secondary source, but I can confirm, it was oversalted, again. I’m not saying, I’m just saying. Anyway, go see “Sunset Boulevard” on Friday if you want to watch uninspired actors and muddled blocking.

Saturday afternoon is the PTA bake sale fundraiser to send our Academic Decathlon team to a tournament in our state’s capital. The PTA secretary… [sighs] Susan WiIlman, says this money will go toward hotel and bus travel for our brilliant and talented Ac-Dec squad. “Academic Decathlon is about intelligence and perseverance,” says Willman in this overwrought press release. “Ac-Dec is about freedom and fastidiousness. It is a celebration of hard work, and we want Night Vale to show the rest of the state that blah blah blah blah blah,” God she just runs on! I mean yes, Ac-Dec is very cool and I wish our kids well. But chill with the grandstanding! Anyway, go buy a cake to support those amazing students, even though I’m sure Susan will still manage to mess up a box mix.

Sunday is Youth Reprogramming Day at the Night Vale Museum of Forbidden Technologies. Does your child love learning about new gadgets and advancements in technology? Well, come on down to the Museum of Forbidden Technologies on Sunday for a day-long reprogramming event. Docents and curators will engage those curious kids through hands-on unlearning. They’ll take their patented mindwipe beam and point it right at each child’s forehead until all interest in forbidden technology has been removed. Kids love the mindwipe beam, because it smells like grapes, and they don’t feel any pain for weeks after. Youth Reprogramming Day is a family friendly day of discovering that you know too much, and knowledge is treason.

Today’s appearance by the Obelisk is the 19th in recorded history. Little is known about what the Obelisk is, who controls it, or what it wants. Most scientists and historians agree that it was created by subterranean gods millennia ago, and they think its purpose is a type of census for life at ground level. The Obelisk is about 25 feet tall, it is oily and soft like a fresh brick of parmesan cheese, and when it appears, everyone in town carves their name into one of its four sides. We do not know why or when this practice began, it’s simply how it’s always been done. And to question tradition is to admit weakness. When the Obelisk eventually disappears, perhaps today, perhaps several days from now, it will take our names with it. And when it returns, those names will be gone and we will begin the tradition anew. No one knows what happens to those names. Are they simply erased, or are they read and recorded? Is this data mining for some ancient technology startup, or does the Obelisk truly belong to the gods? We only know what happens to one of the names carved on the Obelisk, and for that person, we feel both envy and pity. For while the Obelisk has always behaved benevolently, past performance et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.

Let’s have a look now at traffic. Route 800 is shut down until 4 PM today, as it has turned into a river. No cars are on Route 800, it’s just water. Rough and choppy, spiking white rapid caps atop nearly black rushing death. Highway officials are investigating the sudden appearance of this river, perfectly overlaying our main thoroughfare in and out of town. Beneath the quickly moving rush of the river, a single fish, probably a bass of some sort. Highway officials are uncertain because they don’t think about fish. Why would they? Highway officials are annoyed that you think so little of their awareness of fish species. They can tell a salmon from a marlin from a mackerel. “See what you made us do?” one highway official said. “We could have been repairing route 800, but you started picking on us for not knowing if that’s a bass or a mackerel or a whatnot. In fact,” the official continued, “we just looked it up on Wikipedia and it’s a bass. And fun fact,” they added, “did you know that bass can grow up to 25 pounds, have four rows of human teeth, and speak Spanish at a first grade level?” The river is now branching out down sides of streets and into neighborhoods. Pavement everywhere is a network of fresh water capillaries through town. Expect delays of up to 10 or 20 minutes, as you try to get to Mission Grove Park. This has been traffic.

The whole town feels like a carnival now with the flashing lights of the Obelisk and it’s crescendo of lively music filling the cool twilight air. We dance, we sing, we revel in togetherness and share our fears of what will happen next. What will the question be? And more importantly, what will be its answer? When every name has been placed upon the Obelisk, then the blue glow of the towering monolith will die away. The entire structure will turn black. All except one name. One name will remain lit on the Obelisk, and that person shall be sent forth to ask their question. They may ask any question they choose and the Obelisk will tell them and only them the answer. No one else will hear this communication. If the receiver wishes to share what they now know, they are allowed to do so.

Many years back, this ritual was more organized. Early Night Vale townships planned a democratic approach to this opportunity: a committee of the Obelisk was formed to decide on the single most important question to ask. This approach came about in response to the super blunder of 1932, when a 6-year-old boy named Bartholomew Thomason was chosen to deliver the question. He asked the Obelisk if he was, quote, “gonna have corn for dinner”. The obelisk apparently said no, because little Bart started crying and the Obelisk quickly disappeared, not to return for almost 10 years. By that time, the committee of the Obelisk was established and they chose the question: “how do you cure cancer?” Ah, this is a good and noble question. But the citizen chosen by the Obelisk was a farmer named Barry McKenney, who tried his best to take careful notes, but a lot of the detailed medical jargon was just too complex for him. The committee tried this question again 6 years later, but the Obelisk refused to respond to any question it had already answered. So Sidney Laynord of Old Time Night Vale, not having a backup question from the committee, asked if his wife Jessica was cheating on him with Gerald Framingham, and the Obelisk said no, but it only said that because Gerald’s actual last name was Framington, so Sidney just messed up.

Over the decades, the committee of the Obelisk asked: “Is God real”? And the Obelisk said yes, but nothing more. After that, they tried to ask questions that would elicit more detailed response. Um, one year they asked: “who planned the assassination of JFK?” and were disappointed to learn that it was a CIA - Fidel Castro – Frank Sinatra triumvirate that conspired to murder our 35th president. This was the most boring answer, but at least it verified what everyone already knew.

By the 1990’s, though, the committee of the Obelisk had kind of fallen out of fashion after years of corporate funding and corruption. See, this controversy exploded in 1997, when the question put forth by the committee, which at the time was headed by the CEO of Pepsico, was: “what’s the best tasting carbonated soft drink on the market today?” The Obelisk’s answer, to the chairman’s great disappointment, was Surge. Today, whoever is called on by the Obelisk is given free reign to ask whatever they choose. However many news outlets regularly publish lists of recommended question, but there is always the risk that someone will ask something frivolous like “what’s Jason Mraz up to these days?” or “where is the body of my missing fahter?” Please, God please, just don’t call on Susan Willman. She will blow it.

And now a word from our sponsors. Are you tired of wrinkled shirts? Do your clothes get static cling? [increasingly angry tone] How many times do you show up to work with your shirt all rumpled and not smelling like seafoam mist? You’re not going to get a promotion looking like that, and while no one deserves anything, you certainly should appear to earn that promotion. You need crisp, clean, non-ionised clothing that smells like seafoam mist. Don’t you wanna smell like seafoam mist?! Try Tide pods. With our special formula of citrus extract, kelp and milk fat, Tide pods can be the all natural solution to all of your laundry problems. You deserve Tide pods, because you deserve that promotion over Michaela, who’s only like 22 years old. What has she ever done to deserve a promotion? What’s Michaela’s deal even? Tide pods. Remember when we seemed like a big problem?

Oooooooo listeners, the Obelisk has gone dark. The music has ceased. The whole town encircles the tower waiting for its declaration for who shall ask the question. In the quiet night, under few start peeking thru the purple sky, we can hear only the sounds of crickets. The Obelisk, so black as to appear cut out from reality, suddenly shines a small blue line. It is a name, it is on the south face and is it… Oh no! No no no, listeners, I don’t know if I can stop this but I will try. Uuuh, let’s go now to the weather.

[“Pros and Cons” by Sugar & the Mint https://www.sugarandthemint.com/]

Welllll it’s too late. She’s asked her question. I’m not sure how I could have stopped this disaster, even if I made it over there before she could ask it. OK, as you know by now, the Obelisk lit up with Susan Willman’s name, and she grinned smugly and did that fake like “who me? What, oh my god!” gesture and then walked on up to the Obelisk. The crowd was calling out questions to her like game show audience trying to help a contestant, no single phrase discernible above the others, and Susan just looked around, her big goofy eyes scanning the people around her, as if she would actually lower herself to listen to their questions. [scoffs] She thinks she’s so high and mighty with her PT officer status and her hit Broadway musical. No no no, Susan’s above us all, just as important as she can be. She waved her arms like wings for quiet, and the audience obeyed, she’s so self-important, so attention seeking. And then she asked her question. The one question we as a town get only every decade or so, and Susan said: “Hey, so what’s your name?” What’s your name?!! God! What a waste! Did she forget we only get one question? The crowd began to boo, or at least I did. I started booing and I am part of the crowd.

The obelisk began to speak only into Susan’s mind and Susan listened closely. She giggled at first, like a little girl hearing a silly joke from a grandfather, and then her tear-filled laughs turned into tear-filled breaths, which eventually became tear-filled sobs. After about three minutes, the Obalisk vanished, and Susan stood alone on the small hill between the Wailing Pit and the Memorial Debris Heap, and she told us what she heard. Or [scoffs] she told us some of what she heard.

Susan said, in an unusually booming authoritative voice: “Whosoever speaks aloud the name of the Obelisk shall become the Obelisk. Whosoever becomes the Obelisk shall live forever. Whosoever lives forever shall know all things. Whosoever knows all things shall be damned. And whosoever hears the name of the Obelisk spoken aloud shall perish.” The crowd parted for Susan as she left the park. They mumbled their disappointment in both the question and its answer. Some spoke with pity, some with disdain, while some thought it was all pretty cool and now. “Much better than last time, when Dave asked who would win the 2013 NBA championships,” said one person. “Dave won a lot of money on that answer, though,” responded another. “He has a yacht now over at the Harbor and Waterfront Recreation Area.”

But most everyone whispered their fear for Susan’s power itself. I mean, Susan received a gif today, a cursed cursed gifts. You know what? I think I might go see that “Sunset Boulevard” after all and I love it. I don’t get to tell Susan very often what a visionary theatrical director she is, but I, I, [chuckles] I might even put some stacks down on her cakes Saturday too. Really support that academic Decathlon team. And the spirit of American ingenuity and perseverance, and all that.

Good question, Susan. I’d like to never learn the answer, but good question nonetheless. You’re one of, if not the, best person I know. Thumbs up.

Stay tuned next for our newest game show, “Nothing will ever be the same”.

Good night, Night Vale, Good night.

Today’s proverb: Bite your tongue. Fun, right?

#welcome to night vale #welcome to night vale transripts #wtnv #episode 172 #return of the obelisk

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dwellordream · 4 years ago

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I'm loving all this great discussion you've got going on about Rhaenyra Targaryen. How would you have preferred GRRM to have written her? What could have given her greater nuance and made her less "total hot mess" and more "nuanced and possibly tragic antiheroine"? Thanks for your generosity in answering all of these questions!

Thank you so much! I hope I’m not annoying people with my constant complaints about Fire and Blood haha. Just as a whole I think Fire & Blood would have benefitted as being a series of interwoven novellas, not a mock-medieval-history of the past 300 years of Westeros. GRRM’s greatest talent as a writer, imo, is in how he develops characters as nuanced and realistic people with understandable ambitions and fears through their own perspectives. That’s lost out on in F&B. Occasionally it breaks into more ‘novel-like’ scene descriptions, but overall it’s supposed to read as a dry historical text, only it’s an often contradictory, absurdly biased, all over the place, relying on shock value dry historical text. I get that part of the whole idea was to present various viewpoints of certain characters and events and ‘leave it up to the reader to decide’ who they were inclined to believe, but really it’s just more of a vehicle for misogyny than anything else, since we exclusively get the viewpoints of a couple of very sexist maesters and... Mushroom. Yay. Okay for example if I was going to handle Rhaenyra’s character while still hitting the basic plot points of her story (and this is not me saying I think I’m a better writer than GRRM or that I ‘know his characters better’, it’s just my personal interpretation), I think my goal would be to humanize her to the audience of readers while not shying away from her darker moments. She’s supposed to be controversial and provocative. However that doesn’t mean she has to be totally 2-dimensional or such a hot mess. I think I would start by emphasizing Rhaenyra’s position for the first 10 years of her life. She is the coddled, cossetted, and beloved only child of Viserys and his adored wife Aemma. She has never had a sibling, she’s never had to share any attention, her parents dote on her, as does all the court. Of course she is going to be spoilt, high-maintenance, proud, and temperamental when she doesn’t get her way. However, Rhaenyra is not just a bratty princess stereotype (or, she doesn’t have to be). She is also an extremely brave and determined little girl. She is extroverted; she likes socializing and being around people, she’s confident and assertive and used to having her voice heard. At the age of seven, she single-handedly tames and bonds with a young dragon. That is an extremely impressive feat for a child. You can’t argue, bully, or demand your way into riding a dragon, a wild beast. Rhaenyra had to show some serious grit and tenacity to do that at such a young age, so she’s not just this puffed up little fragile flower who wails when she doesn’t get her way. Rhaenyra also has a great relationship with her father. He doesn’t seem to hold the fact that she is his only child and a daughter against her; he praises and shows her off in front of his court, he makes sure she is always by his side. Rhaenyra is used to being honored before everyone. She is her father’s cupbearer, she is present while he holds court, she is exposed to a high level of adult political interactions and basic courtesies. She’s probably pretty bright for her age, and has a keen understanding of who is who and what everyone at court’s relations to one another are. She’s not been kept locked up in a nursery playing with toys, she is seen as an active member of court and her father’s little shadow. She also likely has a very good relationship with her mother Aemma. Rhaenyra is Aemma’s pride and joy, her sole surviving child after the trauma of a very young marriage and multiple miscarriages and stillbirths. Aemma has no close siblings of her own, and never knew her own mother Daella; no doubt she prizes her relationship with Rhaenyra and hopes Rhaenyra does not experience what she did as a little girl, growing up without a mother and only much-older half siblings in the Vale. Then there is her Uncle Daemon. Daemon is the ‘fun’ relative little kids adore. He doesn’t treat Rhaenyra like a child, he doesn’t condescend to her, he brings her back all sorts of exciting and interesting toys and gifts, he takes time out of his day to spend with her, he takes her on outings and makes her feel special and loved. He’s not always busy with the mundane aspects of ruling that her father likely is, he’s not caught up with his own wife and children, he has all sorts of wild tales of adventure and mystery. It’s easy to see why Rhaenyra loves him so. Then Aemma dies. No doubt this is a horrible shock to Rhaenyra. She’s a little girl, just eight years old. She’s not necessarily that familiar with the harsh realities of pregnancy and childbirth, she just knew she was getting a little brother or sister, and now her mother is gone, just like that. Aemma died during the birth. Rhaenyra never got to say goodbye, and her little brother dies a day later, compounding the grief and horror. Her father is heartbroken and reeling, and her favorite uncle is out drinking and whoring. But Rhaenyra is named her father’s heir. Her mom might be gone, but her dad still loves her, and he loves her so much, in her eyes, that he is willing to buck the precedent that set him on the throne (passing over Rhaenys) in order to name her his heir. She’s Princess of Dragonstone; a whole island! Despite her grief and rage over her mother being ripped away from her, this is probably thrilling for a little girl. She’s going to be queen one day. Everyone loves her and wants her to be happy. She’s going to be the first Targaryen queen in her own right. Doesn’t that make her special and chosen? Then a year later her father remarries. Rhaenyra likely isn’t happy about this; her mother has only been dead a year!- but she is willing to try to get along with her new stepmother, Alicent, who probably seems like less of a mother and more of an older sister figure, just a teenaged girl of 18. Alicent is smart and pretty and Rhaenyra remembers her from court as a very small girl. Her father is Rhaenyra’s father’s Hand, someone Rhaenyra probably knows well, maybe even considers almost family, having grown up seeing him all the time, exchanging gifts at holidays and birthdays, attending tourneys with his family, etc. Then Alicent gets pregnant, something 9 year old Rhaenyra probably wasn’t really thinking about. She has a son, and people are saying he will be king, that her claim doesn’t matter. Then Alicent has another son. She doesn’t have time for Rhaenyra anymore. She’s not Rhaenyra’s mother. She has her own sons, and Aegon will be king, even though it’s not fair, even though Father promised she would be queen, even though Mother is dead and never coming back. These are three major events happening in short succession in the life of a precocious little girl. Rhaenyra likely feels hurt and confused and angry. Sure, her father hasn’t officially declared Aegon as his heir, but Alicent and her father are pushing it, people Rhaenyra thought she could trust. Who is she supposed to rely on now? Well, there’s Uncle Daemon, who suddenly seems like less of the fun uncle, almost like a big brother, and more of.. something else. He doesn’t treat her like a little girl anymore, he calls her beautiful and encourages her to show off her good looks and charm, assures her that regardless of what her father says or does, he will always care for her. She can count on him! And Ser Criston Cole, her longtime crush- well, he just sees her as that spoilt little girl. She’s growing up! She’s not a child anymore but he just doesn’t get it. She’s certain he feels the same way about her, that he loves her back, but his vows and white cloak are in the way, and he won’t stop seeing her as the little princess, not a girl of sixteen, a woman grown! She doesn’t have a mom to talk to this stuff about, but there is Uncle Daemon, and he knows pretty much everything about love and seduction; that’s why there’s all those wild tales about him. If she asks him to help her show Criston that she’s a woman now and wants to be treated as such, he wouldn’t turn her down, would he? Besides, he treats her like a grownup. He thinks she’d be an amazing queen. Father and him fight all the time, but Father’s blinded by his love for Alicent- she’s manipulating him! Uncle Daemon gives her advice, and she tries to impress Criston, but it backfires. He leaves her feeling humiliated and rejected. It’s not fair, she’s the princess, she’s supposed to be good at everything, but he acted like she was wrong to try to show him how much she cares and wants to be with him! Now he won’t talk to her anymore, and Father is sending Uncle Daemon, who seems like her one true friend, away from court because of some stupid rumors that he ‘deflowered her’. Alicent is saying she should be married to Aegon, her half-brother who she can’t stand; he’s a spoilt little creep, always groping servant girls and kissing up to their father. Dragonstone seems like the escape she needs from all of this, but Father is threatening to strip it from her unless she marries Laenor- Laenor who she knows isn’t even into women! They’re not even close friends. He doesn’t want to marry her anymore than she wants to marry him, only their fathers are insisting on it. Daemon’s gone and she has no idea when he’s coming back, and Harwin is sweet and says he loves her, but he would have never been accepted as her husband. Still, at least he’ll never leave her or turn on her, the way everyone else has. And that is basically how I would cover Rhaenyra’s childhood and adolescence in a way that I think at least gives her some understandable motivations, some nuance, and some real emotion beyond ‘she threw a fit when she didn’t get her way’.

#fire and blood #rhaenyra targaryen #ask

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tumblebee-the-smol-bean · 4 years ago

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Ok so an idea for a one shot... Virgil is a regressor and he gets really stressed or panicked and regresses in public and gets really scared, one of the other sides(or multiple) is there to comfort him and get him to a safeplace.

Alright this took way longer than it should have but....I’m lazy,,,apologies. I worked on it for like two days and thought about making it longer but I also wanted to get it out as soon as possible. To everyone else waiting on a prompt to be answered I promise it will be as soon as I can

TW for a homophobe being in the chapter who is not very nice and almost uses a slur. (don’t worry she gets her just desserts) I’ll put asteriks by the homophobic parts for you guys if you need to skip.

Virgil was over it. He had been at the coffee shop since six am and it was darn nearing twelve, the end of his shift. His eyes keep darting back to the clock on the wall as it slowly ticks away. Just one more hour, he tells himself. One more hour and then you can go home and watch buzzfeed unsolved and talk about conspiracy theories with your cat. He takes a deep breath and tries to ignore the tension in his body. He really needed to refill his anxiety meds.

At least it wasn’t a completely awful day. Janus and Remy were working the shift with him today and for that he was thankful. Remy made snide little remarks about the rude customers that always got a small smile out of virgil and knew how to accessorize like his life depended on it, and he wasn’t adverse to sharing his wisdom, hence virgil’s new black choker. Then of course there was Janus, nothing quite like working with your best friend.

He glances at the clock to see that no, the hands haven't magically moved and he still has an hour left. He sighs, he may be tired, and anxious, and a little on edge, and teetering on the edge of his small space already but it can’t be too bad right? wrong. Because while he’s trying to give himself this pep talk a middle aged woman with a short bob and sunglasses way to big for her face walks in. “Karen alert.” Remy says under his breath before leaving to get more coffee beans from the back room. leaving Virgil alone. He could handle this. Maybe she’d be one of those people who looked like karens but were actually very sweet and...nope, she was already sending dirty looks to the two girls on a date in the corner booth.

But his shift ended in an hour. He could do this. So he put on his best fake customer service smile when she approached the counter and in the most neutral voice he could muster (he was all out of energy to even try to sound peppy) asked “What can I get for you ma’am?”

She barely even makes eye contact before rattling off her very long order rapid fire so Virgil can barely make her out. All the words bungle together for virgil and he has to push back some brain fog. “uhm...I’m sorry can you repeat that?”

She huffs and rolls her eyes “What are you dense? I said an iced, Ristretto, 10 shot, venti, with breve, 5 pump vanilla, 7 pump caramel, 4 Splenda with extra ice, and poured, not shaken.” she looks at him impatiently. “Well?” He does his best to commit this all to memory and nods, “Yeah, um, okay, I’ll ring you up when it’s ready.” he’s, worried if he asks her to repeat it again she’ll berate him about not listening.

She huffs and mutters about the wait she’s probably going to have to suffer before finding a table to wait at. Virgil tries his best to complete the order but even on a normal day it would have been near impossible, but with the amount of stress he’s feeling today and actively trying to push back his headspace its really too much. There are slip ups, he has to start over, he almost burns his hand and is on the edge of tears but he does it. He makes the drink and calls her name as he sets it on the counter.

She walks over and Virgil tries not to bristle, he is getting all sorts of aggressive vibes from her and gets the feeling she reaaally doesn’t like him for some reason.

She takes a sip. Makes a face and looks back up at Virgil. His heart practically freezes.

“Why is it so watery?? This is disgusting”

“I’m sorry ma’am but you asked for extra ice and um...ice melts.”

That was the wrong thing to say

“Wow, okay, sass the customer, you know thats a great way to get fired I-” Then her eyes fix on a point below his chin and he reflexively brings his hand up to it. his choker.

Oh no, oh god, please don’t say anything rude about his choker, it had taken him so much time to convince himself he could wear something like this and if she said something about it it would definitely hurt him.

*She doesn’t, at least not directly. Her eyes zone in on it with razor sharp precision and her face when she looks back up at him is one of a viper who had just cornered its prey. “Oh. So you’re one of those then, I guess your lack of competence makes sense now.”

Don’t cry don’t cry don’ cry don’t.....the tears formed in his eyes but he held them back. “I-I’m sorry ma’am I don’t know what you mean but you already have your drink and I have other customers-” he starts to gestures to the line of people as his voice starts to get squeaky.

She huffs and glares at him. “Fine. I don’t want to be served by a homo anyways. MANAGER!” she slaps her hand against the counter and thats his breaking point. The stress, the anxiety, the rude treatment, the down talk, and now the hatred was too much. He slipped hard and fast. *

Someone was yelling, there was anger and smart remarks but he couldn’t quite make it out because someone was sobbing very loudly. “Listen Karen, I don’t give a crap, you asked for the manager here I am and I’m not gonna let you verbally assult my employees. now out before I call security.”

Remy, that sounded like Remy. There was some more yelling and then a door slamming that was soon drown out by the sobbing again. It wasn’t until a hand touched his shoulder and a soft voice said “Breathe Virgil, Breathe.” That he realized he was the one crying.

“m-m-mama?” he asks as he catches a glimpse of mismatched skin and snakebites through his tears.

“Yeah baby, I’m right here,” Janus whispers “ but we need to get you back to the break room okay, I think it would be best for you to be away from all the people right now.”

He’s suddenly hyper aware that he’s regressed and crying in front of the customers. Most of them look sympathetic and a few look quite angry at the woman who just left but in this state all he can focus on is that they saw him have a breakdown. He suppresses his sobs but sniffles sharply as he presses his face against Janus’s shirt.

“Shhhhhhh, I’ve got you.” he gently leads him into the break room as Remy finishes up.

He sets him on the couch and Virgil dissolves into sobs. “Sorry! Sorry! I’m so sorry! T-tried not to bu- she was so mean! nd- nd-”

“Hush” Janus kisses his forehead. “I’m aware, I heard her from the back but by the time I came out Remy was already on her and I needed to focus on you.” he brushes his hair out of his face. “And you don’t need to apoligize for this darling, anyone would be upset with the things she said and I happen to think my baby looks very adorable in his choker.”

He blows his nose and rubs the tears from his eyes as he looks at Janus. “Really?” He needed validation right now, he needed someone to tell him it was fine for boys to wear chokers and that he didn’t do bad at his job.

Luckily after a year of being his primary caregiver his best friend knew this.

“Really really, and don’t even think for a second that you didn’t do an amazing job, from what I saw on the register she had quite a complicated order but you did it just right didn’t you sweetheart?”

Virgil blushes and nods gaining confidence.

“There we go.” Janus smiles “There’s my sweet boy.”

Virgil is about to squeak or say something to that but the door creaks open and Remy walks in.

“Hey kid, sorry about that but don’t worry, she’s been banned from this establishment” Remy became aware of Virgil’s regression about two months ago and had been very supportive. He sits on the couch with them and hands Virgil his phone, he likes to play little games on it and Remy can’t deny him. Out of him and Janus he’s definitely the ‘cool uncle’ caregiver.

“Rem!” he babbles excitedly. feeling a little smaller as he plays dragon vale on his phone

“Yes baby, that’s Remy.” Jan smiles and gives Remy a nod of thanks over Virgil’s head. He smiles and winks in return

“Hey is that a coffee dragon?” Remy asks pointing to one of the dragons on screen that virgil is feeding. He giggles and shakes his head. “Nu uh! isa copper dragon” he explains as Jan and Remy nod along.

After about 20 more minutes Remy has to leave to keep doing his managing duties and Virgil whines.

“I know love” Janus coos “but he needs to work and you need to get home, your shift ended about five minutes ago”

He nods and reaches up to Janus who picks him up. They drive to work together because Janus wants to limit their carbon emissions as much as possible and if they’re going to the same place they might as well drive together.

Jan carries him out to the car and buckles him in. “Ready to go baby boy?”

Virgil nods, knowing that when they get back to Janus’s apartment they’ll cuddle and watch coraline and he’ll be babied until he falls asleep and honestly? That sounds amazing right now.

#Age Regression #agere sfw #Agere #sfwagere #sfw age regression #virgil sanders #Janus Sanders #caregiver janus #regressor virgil #agere virgil #remy sanders #caregiver remy #fanfic #fanfiction #sanders sides agere #sanders sides

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transarchivist · 4 years ago

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do you have any podcasts recs? I want to listen to archive 81 but I need some backup and I've already listened to the more "famous" ones, like all of them I binge podcasts like they pay me for me it ajsjjshfje

!!!! ok i'm sorry it's taken me a hot minute to get to you BUT i think i have a good amount of reccomendations :o

these first few are kinda "famous" but i thought i'd point em out just in case! some of them ended a few years ago and they were more well known back when they were running

wolf 359: gotta point this one out juuuust in case you haven't listened to it! amazing sci fi... would drama be the right word? it's very intense and has some really interesting meditations on morality and the self But it's also so extremely funny. complete, ended in 2017

ars paradoxica: america during the cold war, the red scare, intense government conspiracies.... And Time Travel! complicated but amazing plot and a big cast- i would recommend not pausing and listening to something else, it gets complex! mischa stanton directed it so you Know it has stellar sound design (added bonus: lgbt main characters) complete, ended in 2018

the bright sessions: people with superpowers go to therapy! plus: shadowy capitalistic conspiracies, amazing romances and phenomenal character development! i'm not a fan of romances and i Loved the ones here (it's not heavily romance focused though!) (added bonus: lgbt main characters + main lgbt romance) complete, ended in 2018. i think a spin off series is running rn tho!

the adventure zone: this isn't an audio drama, it's an actual play d&d podcast! the first season (balance) is amazing- hilarious and heart wrenching! (the heart wrenching takes a while to kick in but MAN it's so good) the first season ended in 2017. i haven't finished the second big season (amnesty) but i loved what i did listen to, same with the currently running season (graduation)

sayer: starts off as sinister night vale but with an ai and in space, evolves into a complicated save-the-world plot concerning several ais. it's in second person and it's Amazing! lots of meditations on the self and personhood. currently on hiatus but will be ending when it resumes

alice isn't dead: from the people who did night vale! starts as a trucker trying to find her wife, evolves to include shadowy government conspiracies and the power of regular people banding together. ending made me tear up it's really good! it's Big on the horror (the first ep is the only podcast that's ever truly scared me and it continues to scare the shit out of me to this day) but its Extremely Good Horror. very americana too! complete, ended in 2018.

ok that's the more well known ones out of the way, i think? i'm not too confident about how well known some of them are nowadays ^^' all i can say is that i heard abt them frequently in 2016. now onto the lesser known ones ! the ones that are complete are generally pretty short listens (relatively- they're still a good handful of hours at the least)

zero hours: by the wolf 359 people, it's a short anthology that released all at once last year. to pharaphrase/quote the official blurb: each episode is a take on the end of the world, whether the apocalypse is planetary or personal. each episode is separated by 99 years, starting in the past (1722) reaching the present and then overtaking it. surprisingly hopeful ending, made me <:')

i am in eskew: you've probably heard me holler about this before- it follows the trials and tribulations of david ward, who lives in the nightmarish and otherworldly city of eskew. 30 episodes long and complete, with a phenomenal ending! i can't rave about this enough i could Keep talking but i'll cut myself short. it's horror and it's damn good horror! does deal with extremely heavy topics, please be careful!

janus descending: sci fi horror with what has to be the most interesting formatting i've seen in ages: the two points of view alternate each episode... but one is chronological and one is backwards! amazingly done, keeps you guessing until the end! complete. follows peter and chel as they undertake a survey mission on an alien planet

midnight radio: made by @/theradioghost! big on the idea that "all ghost stories are love stories". a 1950s radio hostess gets letters from a fan. horror, big on the 1950s aesthetics, focus on the relationship between one and one's hometown. lovely ending! it's sapphic too :]

the far meridian: by the same people who did ars paradoxica! follows peri, a bit of a hermit who has extreme social anxiety, who lives in a lighthouse that suddenly begins to teleport. each morning peri wakes up and the lighthouse is in a different place! there are like... some horror elements? kinda? but it's not intense imo. it mainly follows peri learning to cope with her anxiety & helping others, with each episode usually having a one off encounter (usually pretty strange!) often has wholesome vibes. s3 is currently in production and is the final season. plus: lgbt characters, and kinda spoilers but peri uses a cane later on!

old gods of appalachia: honestly it's what it says on the tin! a collection of short stories set in historical appalachia that deal with entities beyond human understanding. they're good about trigger warnings, but it's Horror. produced by actual appalachians! stellar music, a Lot strong female characters, and a good amount of lgbt rep! killer music!! it's currently releasing but the latest short story is finished. (do listen in order though!)

the deep vault: by the archive 81 team! in an "almost-post-apocalyptic" america a group of friends chase a rumor about a secret hidden vault, only to Find it! follows the group as they traverse the deep vault. horror, actively points out capitalism a Lot, definetly has an interesting ending! amazing sound design, which is to be expected from dan powell!

tides: the official blurb is short and sweet: "tides is the story of dr. winnifred eurus, a xenobiologist stuck on an unfamiliar planet with hostile tidal forces". extremely snarky and endearing main character and fascinating worldbuilding! i don't know the status of s2, but s1 was really good!

limetown: follows one lia haddock, a public radio reporter, as she tries to unravel the mystery of what happened at limetown. all she knows is that 10 years prior, over 300 men, women and children vanished. horror, mystery, and some sci fi elements. presented in a found footage kinda way. i really enjoyed it, especially the first season. complete.

mabel: horror (big on the haunted house type specifically), sapphic romance, fun take on the fair folk/fae! follows anna limon, an in home carer who's trying to get in touch with her client's estranged granddaughter. evolves into a big fae-horror-romance-thing! really interesting romance tbh. amazing imagery and prose- lots of prose + almost poetry, but it's really good i promise. currently on a post season hiatus

spines: horror but it evolves past just horror in an interesting way (keeping the horror bits, of course). follows wren, who woke up in an attic surrounded by the remains of a cult ritual without any memories of who she is or what she was doing. she searches for answers, encountering creepy shit along the way. really interesting take on the super-secret-organization-that's-always-been-there trope! really good ending. one of the main characters is nonbinary + there's other lgbt main characters.

mirrors: by the people who did spines. also starts as horror but evolves past just horror (it's also sci fi). follows three women in three different centuries who are all experiencing the same haunting. phenomenal take on ghosts! like i can't articulate how cool this angle on ghosts is! s3 is supposed to start this year :] one of the main characters is sapphic, and her wife is a supporting character.

the six disappearances of ella mccray: also by the people who did spines and mirrors. evolves past just horror but keeps more of the horror elements? follows the 6 povs of the people who witnessed the surreal disappearance of ella mccray. each saw something different and surreal, and as they search for her, surreal things start happening to them. unsure abt the status of s3 but s1 and s2 are really good! lgbt main characters, including a trans lesbian (played by a trans woman!)

the bridge: horror. follows the crew of watchtower 10 on the transcontinental bridge that spans across the atlantic ocean. i listened to it back in like 2016-2017 so my memory is hazy, but i remember really enjoying it! currently on hiatus.

within the wires: sci fi... horror..? i listened to the first season a few years ago and enjoyed it and i've continued to hear really good things. it's by the people who make night vale! my memory isn't great but iirc the first season is a sort of romance that's formatted as a set of relaxation/meditation cassettes. it's a few seasons in and i think each is generally self contained, im unsure if it's currently running or not

the orbiting human circus of the air: also by the night vale people! again i listened to this a few years ago so im hazy. follows julian the janitor who works at a radio station that broadcasts from the top of the eiffel tower! surreal but in a wholesome way, iirc! i remember tearing up with happy tears at the s1 finale ^^' really good music! i think the second(?) season ended recently

stellar firma: i've only listened to a handful of episodes, but i've liked what i've heard. sci fi improv comedy that follows the newly made clone david 7 and the mess that is trexel geistman as they try and design custom planets. i think it's currently running but i dunno

rusty quill gaming: also another one that i've only listened to a few episodes of. actual play pathfinder (basically d&d) podcast set on an alternate earth. alex newall (martin's voice actor) is the dm. i've heard really good things from a lot of people! i think it's currently running but again i don't know for sure

right! that's. that's what i got.

i mentioned @/theradioghost earlier (shes behind midnight radio) but i would absolutely recommend looking at her rec list tag! she has impeccable taste

#ask #anon #podcast recs #cae speaks #mine #long post #<- incase the read more doesnt work

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darksaiyangoku · 5 years ago

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Jaune ask out ruby but she doesn’t connect the dots agrees only for wiess to explain it and is nervous for the rest of the day trying to figure out what to do only to stop as soon as she sees him then just started off by kissing him

Episode 4 of the RWBY Christmas Specials begins!!!!

Lancaster: A Kiss of a Knight

The city of Vale was covered in a blanket of beautiful white snow. The shops and streets were adorned in Christmas decorations, from tinsel, bright light, snowmen to the 10 foot silver tree in the park, lavishly decorated in Christmas ornaments. Even the shopkeeper was joining in on the fun, all dressed up in a red suit, hat and fake beard. Wrapped in a yellow coat, with white gloves, scarf and thick black snow boots, Jaune Arc was mesmerised by the scenery. It truly was the ideal vision for a date, and he had just the girl in mind.

Ruby Rose.

He sighed as thoughts about her entered his head. Her beautiful silver eyes, gorgeous crimson hair, cute black dress, striking red stockings and fierce combat boots. He was a boy in love.

Jaune: I think that’s enough daydreaming for today, it’s time I make it a reality!

[30 minutes later, back at Beacon]

Ruby: Ahhh, perfect. *clasping hands together*

Ruby admired her handiwork of decorating her team’s dorm room. It looked just like a page from a Christmas catalogue. Red, white, black and yellow tinsel was wrapped around a small Christmas tree to the side, a round carpet was in the middle of the floor, with an image of Nicholas the Merry, a snowman lamp was on Weiss’s bedside desk and on the shelf were 3 miniature decorative reindeer.

Weiss: ....don’t you think this a little much?

Ruby: Of course not. It looks perfect!

Suddenly a knock at the door alerted the two girls. Ruby opened it to see Jaune, wrapped up in his coat and his rose all red from the cold.

Jaune: Hi Ruby.

Ruby: Hey Jaune, how was your day.

Jaune: Pretty great. I managed to find some gifts for Nora and Pyrrha. *lifts up bag*

Ruby: *confused look* What about Ren?

Jaune: *sighs* Nora insisted that only SHE should be allowed to get Ren a gift this year. *chuckles* God help his poor soul.

Ruby: *also laughs a little*

Jaune: Also, I wanted to know, *shuffles his feet* are you free tomorrow?

Ruby: *thinking* Well in the morning I’ll be helping Coco and Velvet make the Christmas cookies, but I’ll be free for the rest of the day after that. Why?

Jaune: *blushing* There’s this new bakery that opened up in Potter’s Street, and they have some REALLY good pastries and........ well, do you wanna go out with me and have some?

Ruby: *eyes gleamkng* Bakery? Sure I’d love to!

Jaune: *smiling widely* Really? Wow! O-Okay, I-I’ll see you tomorrow!

Ruby: Great! See you tomorrow, Jaune. *waves*

Jaune: You too, Ruby. *enters JNPR’s dorm*

Ruby: Aw, that was nice of him. I can’t wait for our hangout! What do you think Weiss?

Weiss: *eye start twitching*

Ruby: Weiss?

Weiss: *deep sigh* Ruby.......... that wasn’t an invitation to hang out. Jaune asked you out on a date.

Ruby: A..... date? *blushing*

Weiss: Yes. You know, a date? When two people go out togther and do something they like-

Ruby: I KNOW WHAT A DATE IS!!!!!

Weiss: Okay, jeez! You don’t need to scream.

Ruby: Sorry, I’m.... freaking out! I’ve never been on a date before. *panting* How do I act? What do I wear? Should I kiss him?

Weiss: *places hands on Ruby’s shoulders* Ruby, breathe. Just relax.

Ruby: *deep breaths* Okay. Sorry, Weiss.

Weiss: It’s fine. It’ll all be okay. Come on, it’s almost time for dinner. Yang and Blake should be back from their shopping trip as well.

Ruby: Okay. I was getting kind of hungry anyway.

[10 minutes later in the Beacon Mess Hall]

Teams RWBY and JNPR (minus Jaune) sat together their table. Yang was talking to Nora about the gifts she got for the rest of her team, while Nora was relaying her plan on how to wrap herself up for Ren. Pyrrha abd Blake we’re excited about the newest release of the Ninjas of Love series while Weiss and Ren we’re discussing about the final assignment due date. Ruby sat in her corner of the table, not saying anything and her face as red as her cloak. She couldn’t get the image of Jaune out of her head and every new thought would cause her face to go even redder.

His silky blonde hair, his deep blue eyes, his cute Pumpkin Pete hoodie, his rustic white armour. Ruby hid her face in her hands and tried to shake those thoughts out of her head. Yang saw this and a puzzled look appeared on her face.

Yang: Ruby, are you okay?

Ruby: *nervous* Um......

Blake: Ruby?

Ruby: *screams* IGOTTAGOBYE! *runs out of the mess hall*

Nora: What’s up with Ruby? She’s acting weird.

Weiss: *sighs* She’s all nervous because Jaune asked her out on a date.

Pyrrha: *spits drink* What?!

Yang: Jaune asked her out on a date?!

Weiss: *nods head*

Blake: About time!!!

Weiss: Huh? What do you mean by that, Blake?

Blake: Jaune’s been crushing on Ruby since the day they met. I’ve been BEGGING for them to get together since! I’m surprised that it took him this long.

Yang: Well, Jaune isn’t exactly the sharpest tool in the shed when it comes to girls.

Ren: Trust me. *gestures to Pyrrha*

Nora: Well I’m happy for our fearless leader, but what about Ruby? She looked like a nervous wreck back there. God help her when she actually goes on the date.

Yang: Don’t worry about that, I’ve got it covered. I still have some of my old clothes lying around and I can give Ruby some tips on how to woo good old Ladykiller.

Pyrrha: *eyes wide* Wait, you’re not thinking of-

Yang: *smiling* Relax, P-Money. All of my advice will be strictly PG-13. I’m not ready to be an aunt just yet. *winks*

Pyrrha: *blushes furiously*

Weiss/Blake: Really?

Yang: Oh come on guys, lighten up!

Soon dinner was over and the rest of RWBY and JNPR were about to head back to their dorms, only to be greeted by a peculiar sight.

Nora: Now for my plan to work, all I gotta do is- WOAH!

Yang: What’s up Nor- Oh my god!

Ren: What hap- Oh! Yep, that’ll do it.

Pyrrha: *faints*

Blake: *stares intently*

Weiss: *whispers* Dolts.

Standing in front of them were Ruby and Jaune, embracing tightly and kissing. Ruby hummed with delight at the kiss and Jaune broke apart with a grin.

Jaune: *blushing* So I’ll see you tomorrow at the bakery?

Ruby: *blushing* Yeah. Goodnight Jaune.

Jaune: *ruffles her hair* Goodnight Rubes. *leaves the hallway*

Ruby smiled and giggled with glee. Never in her life would she have thought that she’d go out on a date with a cute boy, but stranger things have happened since she arrived at Beacon and she went to sleep, knowing that tomorrow would be a magical day.

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renegade-skywalker · 4 years ago

Text

Out of the Abyss, Chapter 20

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8 / Chapter 9 / Chapter 10 / Chapter 11 / Chapter 12 / Chapter 13 / Chapter 14 / Chapter 15 / Chapter 16 / Chapter 17 / Chapter 18 / Chapter 19 / Chapter 20: Sole Survivor

After years in exile, ex-Jedi General, Eden Valen (now going by Vale) continues to clean up after Revan and Malak’s mess of a war, only to find herself forever cursed with their unfinished business. As an ill-fated lead brings her to Tatooine, Eden finds that Revan’s mysterious plans go beyond the Republic, beyond the Outer Rim, and into the utter unknown. (A novelization of The Sith Lords and beyond)

Chapter Summary: Atton returns to a changed Peragus, fearing now for his life as well as his record, and Brianna catches Atris up to the Exile's whereabouts.

Also found on AO3 | fanfiction.net

3951, Peragus Mining Facility Atton

"Anything you'd like to report?"

"Um, excuse me - what?"

"Anything you'd like to report, sir? In your luggage?"

Atton was good at smuggling, or at least he had been, given his current performance. Not used to being flustered, Atton mustered as charming of a laugh as he could and considered even winking at the Peragus intake officer looking him deadpan in the face.

"Ah yeah, actually," he answered finally, desperately trying to sound casual but failing miserably, "Got a new jacket, some boots, and-"

"Alright then, just log them in here, here and here," the woman cut him off as she thrust a datapad at his chest, before he could flourish his half-lie with something even stupider than what he'd already said. The new jacket wasn't a lie, nor were the boots… but what was inside the boots, well, that was another story.

Atton restrained himself, careful to keep his dumb mouth shut, and took the datapad from the officer's impatient hands. Doing as she asked, he logged the new duds and… nothing else. Smiling still, he handed the pad back to her, her expression unchanged.

"Okay, now I just need you to sign this waiver-"

"Waiver?" Atton held up a hand to stop her, "I signed a waiver when I signed on with this outfit, why do I need to do it again?"

"New company policy," she shrugged, seeming more annoyed than anything. Atton watched her for further reaction, but after finding none snatched the datapad back from her and scanned the waiver now displayed on its screen. "Says here the hazard pay's gone up. What's that about?"

Atton's heart skipped a beat once his brain processed the technical salary increase but knew better than to get his hopes up.

"Haven't you heard?" the officer said, rolling her eyes, "Whole outfit could blow any minute now, what with the up in mining accidents."

"But there are always mining accidents," Atton answered, "Isn't that the whole point this job is what it is?"

"Not like this," she replied, sighing and raising her brows as she glanced at his file open on another datapad at her fingertips, "We lost ten miners since you set off, it looks like."

"Lost? As in… died?"

The woman nodded, solemn despite the clear annoyance still painted on her face.

"Damn. Does anyone know why? I mean, accidents happen, but any idea why there are so many?"

The woman shrugged again.

"Management won't tell us anything, just that it's under control. Whatever that means."

Atton huffed in snark agreement, "Of course."

Signing the waiver finally, wondering just how harrowing his next four years here might be, he was suddenly feeling better about the contraband hiding in near-plain sight in his carry-on, almost forgetting the deal with the Exchange lackey that forced him into this mess.

One down, four to go. Though if everything went as planned, he'd be off this rock in no time.

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

3951 BBY, The Polar Regions of Telos The Last Handmaiden

"And that was the last you saw of the Exile?"

"Yes, Mistress," Brianna's voice echoed through Atris' chambers, even the quickness of her breath reverberating off the stark walls that surrounded them. "Is there any more you wish from me?"

Atris remained silent, her fingers steepled in thought as they cradled her porcelain chin upon her desk, considering Brianna's words. Atris betrayed no emotion as she considered the Last Handmaiden's account, though she already knew what happened from the reports Brianna had sent. After a few agonizing minutes, the woman shook her head. "I believe that will be all for now. Good work."

Good work?

Brianna would hardly call it good work, and though she was glad for her sisters' unusual accolades, nothing of what had transpired over the last standard week felt good to her.

"I sense some uncertainty," Atris said, a wan smile crossing her pale features as her gaze lifted to meet Brianna's inquisitive stare. "If you have any grievances, please share them."

Brianna was unsure if this was a request made in earnest curiosity or one meant to draw out her ire.

"Perhaps I misinterpreted your instructions, Mistress. I was under the impression that I was to continue to pursue the Exile, even after she left Nespis."

"Ah," Atris said, her voice soft and soothing. Mistress uncoupled her hands and pressed them to the desk as she stood, her white robes billowing as she swept across the room to Brianna's side. "That was the intention, yes, but the Force has since shown me another path."

Brianna stiffened as Atris placed a hand on her shoulder, both afraid there was some unseen reprimand yet to come though inwardly pleased at the closeness, her Mistress' smile an almost motherly welcome.

"As their only other living witness, you have further confirmed my fears that the Sith have returned. It is only a matter of time before they reveal themselves in true and wage war on the Republic as we know it. But for now we must rest and await their arrival."

Brianna nodded, tempted to mirror Atris' serene smile though finding she couldn't at the thought of the man with the violet saber back at Anchorhead, perturbed that Atris seemed so sure that the Sith would continue to emerge from anonymity, finally making themselves known.

"Tell me what to do next, Mistress," Brianna bowed her head, reverent, awaiting her Mistress' next command, unsure of what else to do.

"I have something for you," Atris answered after a moment, her voice soft but aloof now. "See that plasteel container by the door?"

Atris removed her hand from Brianna's shoulder, the Echani's arm suddenly cold at the absence of her Mistress' touch. Brianna glanced back in the direction Atris indicated, finding a demure box waiting by the exit to the study, hardly distinguishable from the other packages piled up along the walls - undoubtedly housing artifacts yet to be examined, items yet to be logged into Atris' never-ending inventory.

"I would like for you to take it with you when you return to your quarters. Think of it more as a test than a gift."

"Yes, Mistress."

"You would do well to consider your Echani oath," Atris continued, hooking her hand beneath Brianna's chin and guiding it so that she looked at Atris again. Mistress' angelic smile remained, her eyes warm despite their iciness. It was a wonder Atris was not Echani herself, given her appearance, though it was clear she revered the race highly for their discipline as well as for how well their faith coincided with that of the Jedi. "I will need all the protection I can get."

"Y-yes, Mistress."

Atris removed her hand from Brianna's chin and Brianna bowed her head again, wanting anything but to look Mistress in the eye.

She knows.

"Speak with Orenna about blocking," Atris said, returning to her desk and immediately busying herself with a datapad, as if Brianna had only just interrupted her and had not been speaking for the last hour, detailing every leg of her journey. "And try not to take it personally, or anything your sisters say for that matter. I believe it was sentimentality that ultimately led your father to his unfortunate demise."

Atris was not even looking at Brianna as she said this, her voice almost casual and nonchalant as she continued. Her father was murdered by the traitor Revan, Brianna and everyone else knew that. But she knew what Atris spoke of, if not indirectly - the thing that haunted her every waking moment, the mistake Brianna never made but was born with the burden to bear. Brianna the Bastard. The Last of the Handmaidens.

"You would do well with some guidance," Atris said with some finality, an edge to her voice as her eyes rose to meet Brianna's - briefly - before smiling softly and returning to her work without another glance. This was meant to signal Brianna's dismissal and mark her uncouth exit from Atris' chambers to again consider the sins of her father, ad nauseum.

Brianna waited for a moment, almost hopeful that Atris was not yet finished, but when her Mistress continued to read her datapad without so much as another upward glance, Brianna nodded, bowed, and retreated, picking up the plasteel container as she went.

Once out of sight of Atris' chambers and clear of the long, somber causeway that separated their Mistress' quarters from her Echani advance guard, Brianna stopped mid-stride and leaned against the wall, letting out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.

Her fingers prickled, cold almost, as if she had been out on the mountainside. Brianna's knuckles were white against the plasteel container still in her hands, and with a trembling grip, she opened the box to see what was inside.

At first, she saw nothing, just the black nothingness of an open box. But as the light adjusted, she saw it - grey fabric on grey fabric, shades upon shades of grey. The box nearly clattered to the floor as Brianna extracted the cloth in its entirety from the container, what little color she had drained from her face at the sight. Jedi robes.

Oh, she knows.

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

3951, Peragus Mining Facility Atton

"So, do anything interesting off-world?" the new-hire beside him asked, but Atton only shrugged, trying his best to keep his mind focused on the data running across the screen in front of him. The mining droid on his other side twitched as it idled, as if awaiting Atton's command with impatience - which only made Atton want to punch the thing square in the module that looked most like a face.

"Really, nothing?"

The young humanoid was eager for Atton's opinion on all things Peragus, including the quality of the food, the linens the bunks were outfitted with (Atton couldn't help but snort when he said the word 'linens'), and of course, what their once-a-year leave would consist of once he qualified for it.

"Played some cards, ate some take out. Stuff we can't get around here, that sort of thing. Enjoyed the peace and quiet," Atton answered reluctantly after a moment, doing what he could to be as vague as possible while still giving a meaty enough answer in hopes of shutting the kid up.

The new recruit was fresh-faced and new to the job - quite literally. Having only just arrived that morning, Atton's shift manager thought it best to have him shadow Atton first thing once his paperwork was signed and ready to process. Fresh from the dire warnings that management bombarded the poor kid with during orientation, he was likely looking for a ray of hope, hungry for any indication that this outfit wasn't so bad. Atton didn't want to outright depress the guy but he also didn't want to lie, though ultimately Atton preferred not to have to talk to him at all.

"Aw, really? Didn't meet up with friends or family or anything?" he asked.

Atton almost laughed.

"Don't have either, though plenty of the others do. The company can arrange for family visits if that's what you were trying to get at."

"Ah, yeah, I was wondering," the new recruit said, shifting now as he watched Atton work from over his shoulder, completely oblivious to how uncomfortable it made him, "Trying to help my family win back their estate on Coruscant. Since we couldn't afford to send any of my siblings to school, we sort of ended up finding odd jobs around the galaxy."

"And you got sent all the way out here?" Atton asked, trying to mask the agitation in his voice as he tried to ignore the kid at his back the droid beside him, still twitching.

"Tough breaks, right?"

"Eh, it's not so bad once you get used to it. There are worse things you could be doing."

'Worse things' is putting it lightly. Atton eyed the corner of their work station, nestled into a bit of rock at the base of the current excavation site, at the satchel he left unattended by the entrance. All workers carried their equipment to and from their work sites, but they also carried a satchel with any nonessential gear like water or other provisions they might need for their shift. Atton's satchel had been equipped with only one nutrient bar and a water canister that was now attached to his hip. The rest of the satchel's contents would hopefully only be discovered by the man intended to pick it up, per the Exchange's orders, during the next shift change. The drop-off would be seamless, if all went as planned. And no one would be the wiser.

"I'm only here for a year, so it shouldn't be so bad."

If he was lucky.

"So, how long have you been here?"

Atton gritted his teeth, doing his best to ensure his work was accurate while he fished for unimportant answers and the droid continued to hum beside him uncertainly.

"A while," he answered absently, punching in a code that should keep the droid happy for a while. After hitting the execute button, the droid began mining as directed, and Atton sighed as the kid beside him laughed, clapping on needless congratulations.

"Whoa, that was awesome!"

"Uh, yeah sure," Atton said, checking his chronowatch. Only twenty minutes and he would be in the clear. His immediate future was already so clear in his mind - lunch scarfed down in a minute flat followed by a much-needed nap in his bunk. Once the drop off happened, he'd feel a lot better. And he could finally get back to paying off his debts, worry free.

"So you're good with numbers, huh?" the kid asked, returning to Atton's shoulder, scrutinizing the program he just entered into the datapad. Atton could only roll his eyes.

"Sort of, it's just a basic equation. Once you learn the ropes here, you'll see, it's just a programming spec meant to-"

"Hey, is your datapad working?" A voice interrupted from Atton's other side. He spun around to meet the sound, his eyes falling on a short red-haired woman running up beside him and his undesired intern.

"Uh, yeah why?" Atton answered, instantly forgetting the woman's name despite having been assigned to the same shift as her for the last six months.

"I dunno, mine's acting kind of funny. Won't take any commands. Do you mind taking a look?"

Atton minded, but didn't want to voice as much. After quickly eyeing the unattended satchel in the corner again, he nodded, knowing it would be best if he acted as normal and unassuming as possible - even if normal for him meant avoiding everyone at all costs. And to his dismay, his little sidekick fell into stride once he agreed to follow along and see what the problem was.

"I'm no expert or anything," Atton warned them both, putting up his hands as if in surrender, "But let's see here-"

The woman's station was on the adjacent wall, her datapad propped up against a jut in the metal paneled wall. After punching in a few codes, it was clear his co-worker's data was sound, her programming even more polished than his if anything.

"Huh, that's weird," he muttered, punching in the sequence to run diagnostics. "Everything seems clean. Perfect, even."

The woman beamed at his side but bit her lip once she caught sight of her droid again, clearly malfunctioning beside them.

"You don't think-?" she started, but she trailed off. Atton side-eyed her, her brown eyes meeting his for an instant before she shook her head. "No, nevermind. I'll figure it out next shift."

She powered down the droid and nodded at Atton in thanks before taking her datapad back and submitting a Help Desk ticket.

"That happen often?" the new kid asked as they walked back to Atton's station. Atton couldn't help but eye his own assigned mining droid with suspicion, content it was doing as it was told but uncomfortable with how it had been acting earlier - not to mention the rumors running around the station since he'd returned from Citadel Station.

"No, not really."

"Weird."

They worked in silence until the end of the shift, to Atton's relief, the new recruit only asking him about trivial things like how many suits they were issued and if they were allowed seconds at meal times. He kept glancing back at the woman from before, her droid thankfully slumped and still powered down since she willed it to be so, unmoving.

"So, are there designated 'lights out' times or-?" the new kid asked just before the shift change was signaled. "Oh, what's that?"

"Shift's over," Atton said, packing his datapad away and making a point to not look at his abandoned satchel. As they approached the elevators, Atton watched as the next shift filtered past them.

Once inside the lift, he couldn't help but look back, knowing that his gaze would be indistinguishable among the rest of the group waiting for the elevator up. Watching as the new shift took their stations, Atton saw a man kneel down and snatch up his abandoned satchel, slinging it over his back as if it were nothing. With close cropped hair and sharp blue eyes, Atton didn't recognize the man - only knowing that he fit the sorry excuse for a description the Exchange provided. And for now, that would have to be enough.

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

"Did you hear about the explosion down in Sector Two?" a Twi'lek muttered, idly moving the food around her plate with a fork.

"I thought it was in Sector Eight? Sector Two is way too close to the administration level," her companion said.

Atton did his best to keep his head down and eat as fast as he could, still eager to nap before scheduled rec time and making the most of his sentence on this rock, but he couldn't help but get sucked into the gossip already on fire at the table he was unfortunately sitting at.

"No, I'm serious. Sector Two! And management isn't doing anything about it!"

"How do you know about it, then?"

Atton's eyes volleyed between the two women, the second one a humanoid with blue markings dotting her gold face. The Twi'lek sighed and glanced about the dining hall again, apparently uninterested in Atton, who was hopefully doing a decent enough job of pretending to be equally uninterested.

"My bunkmate is stationed there, said she was lucky to make it out alive."

"You should file a formal complaint. The least they could do is ignore it, right?"

"I think it was fake," the Twi'lek said instead

"Fake?"

Her companion nodded, grave as her eyes scanned the room to spot any eavesdroppers, lowering her voice and leaning forward as she continued.

"It was planted, for sure. You heard about the ship they found last week, right?"

The other woman shook her head.

"I hear they found some people on it, salvaging the rest, I guess. Not sure who though, but they must be important because there've been a ton of inquiries."

"Inquiries?"

The Twi'lek shrugged. "Why else would people care?"

"What do you mean by inquiries, though? Like, is it someone we know? Or-?"

"Not sure, but I have a feeling it has something to do with money."

The other woman chewed as she considered the Twi'lek's words, narrowing her eyes as she mulled it all over. "You don't think it's a Jedi do you? I heard there was a bounty out for any found alive."

"Psht, they don't even exist anymore, Mara. I doubt it's a Jedi."

"I dunno. I mean, the bounty's pretty high. And you heard about someone trying to smuggle frag grenades onto the station, right?"

"What?!" the Twi'lek exclaimed, though managed to keep her voice somewhere in the range of an urgent whisper. "No way. That's the dumbest thing someone could do."

"Yeah! Or, I don't know, might have been a blaster rifle or something or other, but either way, I hear that's why they've ramped up security since yesterday."

"Ugh, they just want to make it look like they have the situation under control when they really don't. Why would these explosions keep happening, anyway?"

Atton wanted to hear more, suddenly nervous about whatever the hell he just smuggled onto this Maker forsaken rock, but instead reluctantly relinquished his seat for the next hungry worker, getting up swiftly as if he hadn't been listening and deposited his lunch tray at the end of the hall. Glancing back, he found the two women conversing still, heads bowed together now, eyes darting about the room. But they weren't the only ones, he noticed. Nearly the entire hall was flush with the sound of hushed whispers, charged with an unseen energy that Atton felt without question. He was anxious when he returned from Telos for the unchecked cargo he brought with him, partially against his own will, and while that anxiety never faded it quickly fell in line with the anxiety already running rampant throughout the station, though for reasons that were still mysterious to him. And everyone else for that matter…

"Hey! What's all this talk about accidents?"

The new kid from before sidled up alongside Atton as soon as he entered the hallway, bustling with other workers as they changed shifts, each sector switching over according to a staggered schedule. Atton rolled his eyes, his irises glimpsing so far as the contents of his brain. Atton had originally planned his quick lunch and equally swift exit ahead of time, though not for the express purpose of running into his incidental-protege. Instead, the idea had been to beat the lunch crowd back to the dorms so he could sneak in a nap while he remained the bunks' only occupant. Only now his chances of success were diminishing.

"Remember the hazard pay they had you sign off on?" Atton said, sighing. The kid nodded, though he still appeared confused.

"Why do you think that number's so high? Because it's boring here? You do know what 'hazard' means, right?"

"Of course I do, but-" the new kid paused, looking about the hall for another sympathetic face and finding none that could read his mind, "I dunno, it all seems wrong though, doesn't it? Hazard pay or no?"

Atton wanted to agree but he also wanted to be alone in his bed with only imaginary Pazaak cards for company.

"Just- don't worry about it, okay?" Atton conceded, "Everything'll be-"

But before he could finish his sentence, he felt it. It. That tingling sensation at the base of his neck that always managed to tell him when everything was about to go sideways.

"Shit."

Before the thought could properly register, Atton's senses exploded, suddenly hyperaware of everything around him - the new kid turning at his side, the bustle of people walking in the opposite direction, a deactivated mining droid ahead of him and a shipment of food being delivered to the dining hall behind him as it swerved to avoid passersby - and just as time sped up to meet his senses, an arm reaching out to cover his face of its own accord, a very real explosion blew Atton off his feet, sending him straight into the wall at his left.

Skull, shoulder, and hips collided with tempersteel as all thought rushed out of Atton's head, his limbs acting out of instinct to protect himself on impact. Several bodies crashed into his other side as the air in the hall exploded and then compressed, a dull, faraway ringing replacing all sound.

Atton collapsed, his senses on fire, his muscles jelly, when his mind suddenly reached out, all objects in the hall somehow visible in his mind's eye: every person, every machine, every piece of debris as it swirled through the air around them as if in slow motion. And that's when he sensed it – the second explosion.

Without thinking, and still unable to feel his extremities, Atton scrambled into a blown open service closet just ahead of him, ducking inside the moment the second explosion hit.

Everything went black.

Silent.

And then… ringing, low murmurs. Energy swarmed around him. Time passed, though he knew not how much.

It was almost like waking, treading the space between dreams as they bled into the real world, only prolonged, as if Atton were half-awake and hardly aware of everything around him but only marginally so, half of his brain straining to sleep and the other half urging him desperately to get up - GET UP.

"I think this one's stabilizing, finally," a voice came into focus from the void.

Atton's entire world was still a swirling blackness, but the voice grew clearer, closer.

"Can't say the same for the rest of them."

"Damn it, really?"

A low beeping resonated through the space around him, Atton's senses slowly returning, everything hurting and dialed to eleven.

"Lost this one."

"This one, too."

"Shit, why does this keep happening?"

"Has management said anything? Are they launching an investigation? Or-?"

"Management doesn't give a shit about us," another voice huffed, Atton's vision now surging with light, the waking world still a blur, "I think this one's waking up. Hey? Hey! Can you hear me?"

"Hm?" Atton's lips were numb, tingling if anything, but he could feel them, or at least sense the lack of feeling in them, which was better than nothing.

"Good, good, now just keep talking, stay with me here."

"What happened?" Atton heard himself say, his voice about as dumb as it was hoarse.

"You were hurt pretty bad, there was an explosion down by the cafeteria a few hours ago. Do you remember anything?"

A few hours ago?

"I remember…"

It had happened so suddenly, yet Atton could dissect his every second as if he were watching a play-by-play, each frame pausing long enough for him to register all present information, and it still only felt like moments ago, his brief coma lasting longer than it seemed.

"It's okay, take your time," the medic slowly swam into Atton's sight, kaleidoscope vision slowly merging into one as Atton continued to take deep breaths, his mind still reeling with what just happened. A woman stood over him, a wan smile on her face as she observed Atton - the rest of the medbay slowly coming into focus behind her and her halo of honey brown hair. "Just keep talking to me, keep talking."

"Uh," Atton muttered, his lips still unfeeling, his entire body a senseless mass, both amorphous but painful all at once, "There were two explosions, I think."

"Two?" the medic pressed, this time jabbing an intravenous needle into Atton's forearm, a warm hand briefly checking his forehead for a temperature, "Are you sure?"

Atton nodded, finding that his head pounded with the action.

"Take it easy, easy now," the medic steadied him, a gentle hand on his strapped-in arm, the IV draped over his wrist and already pumping strong with a hell of a painkiller, Atton's limbs suddenly euphoric as his mind cleared.

The medbay was full. And Atton was the only one conscious, save for the medics.

Beyond the medic at his side, several charred bodies lay on slabs beside him, white cloth barely covering their corpses. Other medics rushed about the room, medical droids buzzing at their sides.

"Two explosions," Atton repeated, unable to say more as if his mouth were suddenly full of cotton.

"No idea?"

Atton shook his head. The play-by-play was clear, but his brain couldn't yet decode the images, his mouth nowhere near as caught up to speed as his memory.

"We're losing them-" a voice said from the other side of the room, panic rising in their throat. The medic at Atton's side turned to look, and upon looking at Atton again began wheeling him out of the room, the stretcher beneath him lurching as they went.

"What happened before the explosion? Can you tell me that?" the medic asked, clearly trying to keep Atton's attention away from the room they just exited, strong with the smell of burnt human flesh. "Do you remember anything, no matter how small?"

Atton tried to nod, but his head only swayed, heavier than he anticipated. It lunged to his left, and as they barreled down the hallway Atton glimpsed into another room full of kolto tanks alight with an ethereal blue-white light, like hyperspace. Each one housed a body, floating ominously in the viscous cerulean fluid, each tank's vital bars flashing orange with urgency. Atton tried nodding again as the door closed, his body still not entirely his own, only managing to shake his shoulders as the medic wheeled him into the auxiliary holding room usually reserved for workers awaiting blood tests.

"Take it easy," the medic said again, her brown eyes coming into focus as Atton finally stilled. "Don't wear yourself out, you've been through a lot."

"What happened to the others?"

"The others?"

"Yeah, there were a bunch of people in that hallway. I-"

"Hard to say," the medic responded, almost too quickly. "Can you tell me anything else?"

Atton's mouth slowly regained feeling - his lips were chapped, and he tasted blood.

"I-"

She had been like this just before she died, right before Atton killed her. The Jedi. Her lips parched, dry except for the blood bubbling from her throat, still smiling despite everything.

You can feel it, I know it, she'd said. You are a survivor, through and through. Your allegiances tell as much. But it is your connection to the Force you must thank, for it is the reason you yet live.

She was trying to teach him a lesson, his third eye finally opened, only Atton wasn't interested in seeing what was on the other side.

"No-not sure," Atton choked, the metallic taste of blood slithering down his throat as his senses continued to return.

"It's okay, it's okay. It's over now," the medic soothed, though the panic was clear in her voice. They were now in a silent room, but Atton still remembered the room they'd left and the one they passed along the way. The Twi'lek from earlier had mentioned an explosion in Sector Two, maybe the bodies were from that accident? But if the station's kolto tanks were already full, then where did that leave everyone else?

"You don't remember anything suspicious, do you?" the medic pressed again, "Was it a mining droid again?"

"Hard to say, I think the explosion came from right next to me. A cart was being pushed. Food, I think. For the dining hall."

The medic considered him, her expression growing graver by the second as she checked his vitals.

"You're one lucky bastard," she laughed, though the seriousness was clear in her voice, "You were the least injured of everyone we managed to pull out of there."

"Managed?"

"Half the hallway collapsed, there are still miners trying to get the rest of the survivors out, or at least recover any bodies- er, I mean, anyone else that might be stuck under the debris."

A survivor through and through.

Atton's chest lurched, launching his torso forward as he began to retch.

"Oh frack, here-" the medic balked, swallowing her surprise quickly enough to shift back into doctor mode and bring Atton an empty canister to shove his face in. "The meds might make you sick, forgot to mention that. It doesn't usually affect humans this strongly, but-"

Atton knew it wasn't the meds, though he thanked whatever nonexistent gods might be listening for their existence as the medicine coursed his veins, numbing the rest of his body from whatever hell he managed to avoid for the time being.

"Is this the only one?" Another medic approached them while Atton's head was still extended into the empty canister, his lunch thankfully remaining in his stomach despite the nausea that now roiled through him. "Just got the word from the infirmary."

"What word?!" Atton's attendant pulled away, her voice growing softer as she assumed an urgent whisper in response, "I just came from the infirmary."

The adjoining medic only shook his head. "The others are gone. None of them made it."

Gone. In minutes.

Atton retched again.

It is your connection to the Force you must thank, for it is the reason you yet live.

"What?!"

The other medic only nodded in response as shock painted both of their faces. Atton's attendant buried her face in her hands before raking her fingers through her hair, taking a sharp intake of breath. "Call the security officer. Now."

"What? Why?"

"They need to launch an investigation. This is getting ridiculous. No, we're well past that-"

"Yara? Yara!" Another medic came rushing into the room at a light jog, pausing only before she was close to her colleagues, glancing at Atton cursorily before continuing, still out of breath. "Did you order another round of medication to be distributed to the kolto tanks?"

"What? No, I've been in the infirmary, and now here. Why?"

"Then you need to come see this," the woman said, now nodding at the second attendant. "You, too."

All three medics looked at Atton apologetically, as if they owed him anything, the drugs now in full force as he felt both heavy and weightless at once.

"Someone will be back to check on you shortly," the second medic assured him as the three clinicians rushed out of the room.

And just like that, Atton was alone again.

#kotor 2 #atton rand #brianna the handmaiden #star wars #my writing #fan fiction #I posted this to ff and ao3 at least a week ago I've just been lazy #also not sure if anyone is reading this monster of a fic anyway but I want it done/posted for posterity's sake #and my own peace of mind for having finished it/having it up-to-date everywhere I guess?

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