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the-al-chemist · 3 years ago

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The Beginning of a Symphony - Prologue

A/N: So, the story of the Legacy children begins here, long after they were children. Let’s dive in shall we?

Warnings: none.

August, 1932

The Ministry of Magic was in chaos. Almost every member of almost every department had been rushed off their feet all day, thanks to one unruly dragon. Even the least observant Muggles couldn’t have missed the Welsh Green landing on the beach at a sleepy north Devon resort in broad daylight.

As an Obliviator, Marius Hexley had been busier than anyone, but at least his line of work meant that he was out of the Ministry itself. He was on the front line, dealing with the Muggles themselves, finding out what they’d seen and modifying their memories to fit the official line coming from the Department of Magical Catastrophes and the Muggle Liaison Office: that the fires had started at a local pasty shop.

The workload had been significantly reduced by the fast-thinking and quick reactions of a wizarding family who happened to be holidaying and had witnessed the incident occur, but there was still half a village worth of Muggles to interview and Obliviate. He’d been there all afternoon, and was getting to the point where he was tired of the questioning, the bewilderment, and the dazed looks that followed the memory modification itself. Thank Godric he only had one Muggle left to interview, he thought, as he read the file of his final case of the day.

Miss Mavis Morland. A twenty-four-year-old Jazz singer at the local nightclub. Unmarried, staying at a bed and breakfast for the summer. Possible witness of the ‘incident’.

Marius closed the file and entered the interview room, dressed - as he usually did for fieldwork - in the uniform of a Muggle Auror. Inside, a very pretty young woman with bobbed blonde hair and unblemished skin sat at a small wooden table. Marius took a seat opposite her, and she stared at him as if she were taking his measure. She had a sweet face and was smiling, but the look in her eyes unnerved him. Or perhaps it was just the colour of her eyes: although they were a deep pure shade of brown, they had a distinct green ring, just around the pupil. Marius had never seen eyes like those on a human before.

“How do you do?” he asked her, extending his hand for her to shake, which she did. She had long, slim fingers, like a piano player. “My name is Detective Hexley. I have some questions about the fire that broke out in the village this morning, which I’d like you to try and answer for me.”

“Of course. Anything to help the police with their enquiries.”

The Muggle woman smiled, though her lips remained closed and her eyes sceptical. Her voice was soft and strong and lyrical and captivating. Marius wasn’t surprised, she was a singer after all. He placed a sheet of Muggle writing paper on the table in front of him and picked up one of the Muggle quills. Pens.

“Why don’t you start by telling me what you saw this morning?” he asked.

That question had received a lot of different answers so far today, from ‘a bloody great lizard’ to ‘a massive featherless seagull’, but very few had guessed correctly. Why would they? From his experience, Muggles could be very obstinate when it came to refusing to accept what they’d seen with their own eyes.

But perhaps Miss Morland was more open-minded than other Muggles, because she answered:

“A dragon.”

He was going to have to Obliviate her, then. Now he just had to find out exactly what she’d seen, so that he could modify her memories accordingly. Marius smiled patronisingly, the way he had seen real Muggle Aurors do.

“A dragon?”

“Yes, it flew over the village towards the beach, I saw it whilst I was on my way to the bakery,” Miss Morland informed him. “I suspect that is what caused the fire on the balustrade, was it not?”

“The fire started at the pasty shop. Why don’t you tell me more about this… dragon?”

“It was a dragon. I don’t really know what else to tell you. Large, winged, scaly, breathed fire,” Marius nodded and pretended to take notes as Miss Morland’s unusually coloured eyes bored into him. She sighed loudly. “I suppose that if I were to hazard a guess, I should say that it was a Common Welsh Green.”

Marius stopped writing. He raised his eyes from the Muggle parchment. His interviewee’s face was serene. Perhaps he’d misheard her.

“A common what?” he asked, conversationally.

“A Common Welsh Green,” Miss Morland repeated. “Judging by the colour and the wingspan. And, of course, we’re not a great distance from Wales, and given that it’s the Common Green’s mating season at this time of year, you might expect them to venture a little further than they would normally.”

He hadn’t misheard her. She knew about dragons. She knew more about dragons than he did. But how? She was a Muggle. Muggles weren’t supposed to know about dragons.

His confusion must have shown on his face, because Miss Morland smiled again, coyly this time, and tilted her head to one side.

“Are you going to Obliviate me now?” she asked him.

There was a pause, during which neither of them spoke or even moved. Marius wasn’t even certain that he was breathing.

“You… you know about dragons,” he said, eventually. “How do you know so much about dragons?”

“I wanted to be a dragonologist when I was a little girl. My parents were dead set against the idea, of course.”

“So, you’re one of us. You’re a witch.”

Miss Morland shook her head.

“No, I’m not,” she answered him, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“But you know about us. About our world.”

“Yes, I do.”

The expression on Miss Morland’s face was unfathomable; a mixture of sadness and longing mingled in her eyes, but her smile remained serene.

“How?” Marius asked.

“It’s a long story.”

“I don’t mind. I think I should like to hear it, if you would be so kind as to tell it.”

“Very well,” Miss Morland said, sitting up even straighter. “Where would you like me to start?”

“Why don’t you start at the beginning?”

#the hexley legacy #the beginning of a symphony #Marius Hexley #Mavis Morland

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monstersandmaw · 5 years ago

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Embers - male dragon shifter x reader, Chapter Eleven (sfw)

Another fluffy chapter, but I hope you enjoy seeing our boy opening up a bit more and learning to be ok with being vulnerable. Featuring Celia too, our niece.

Also it's way longer than I wanted it to be, but when the muse insists, you know? It's 2353 words, no warnings, sfw.

Next week, it's Murder Mystery Dinner evening!!

One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten

Morning crept through a chink in the curtains and flashed gently off the glinting scales on his bare torso.

Mikaeïl lay fast asleep, his lips gently parted, exposing the points of his canines to you as you stared in wonder at him. Perfectly naked, though the sheet was draped rather artistically across his hips, he looked like a temple statue, his torso pale as marble until it seemed to catch fire with those coppery scales.

He didn’t stir until after nine, and you were perfectly happy to doze with your head on his shoulder. He hadn’t shifted back to his usual form after the exertions of the night before; his hands were still clawed, and the scales rippled up his arms to his elbows. He shuffled slightly and tugged you closer to his chilly body and you grumbled. “You only want me because I’m warm,” you grumped.

“Not true,” he slurred sleepily, nuzzling at your neck.

“Mostly true?”

“I can’t deny that I like how warm you are,” he said, blinking groggily. “But you’re gorgeous and funny and talented. And I don’t think I’ll ever forget the way you came so beautifully for me last night…”

You blushed at that and buried your face at his chest. Surprisingly, Mikaeïl turned out to be ticklish and you nearly got a spined elbow in your face for that.

Later as you sat at the table in his conservatory while he cooked eggs for the both of you, your phone buzzed and you saw the message preview from your brother. ‘Hey, I’m so sorry but can you take care of Celia tonight?’

You opened it and bounced a reply back. ‘I had plans with Mikaeïl this weekend… what’s up?’

‘Work’ he replied. ‘They need someone to cover the late shift’

Knowing he needed the money, you sighed just as Mikaeïl came over with a cup of tea in his now ordinary-looking hand. “Everything alright?” he asked, setting it down on the table and pushing it towards you. “Different blend this time,” he added while he waited for you to reply.

“It’s my brother,” you said. “He wants me to take care of Celia this afternoon and tonight. He’s got called in to cover a late shift at work.”

“That’s alright,” Mikaeïl smiled, reaching up and stroking your hair affectionately just above your ear. “Would she like to stay here? I’ve got plenty of spare rooms. We could have pizza and a movie and a sleepover or something?”

Unexpectedly, tears filled your eyes and you hugged him.

When your brother dropped her off, you saw the way Mikaeïl weighed him with his gaze. Your brother was taller and broader than you by a long way, and had the rough edges that made him good at his job with the police force, but there was a familial similarity between you. Celia barrelled out of the car a moment later and flung herself at you, and you spat a feather out of your mouth as the little half-siren flapped about excitedly. The moment she saw Mikaeïl, however, she went quiet and still, and looked a bit anxious. Glancing back at him, you realised that he’d slipped back behind his glacially cool mask again.

“Mikaeïl, this is my brother, Jon. Celia you’ve already met, I think.”

“Briefly,” he said, shaking your brother’s hand before crouching down to be at Celia’s eye level. “It’s nice to see you again, Celia. I suppose it might be strange for you to be here without your flute…” she shrugged and he smiled. “Well, you know where the music room is if you feel like going there.” He glanced up at you and added, “We thought we might have a go at making some pizzas for supper tonight. Would you like to help us with that?”

“Making them?” she asked, her eyes going wide, as if she’d never considered the possibility that you could make your own pizza. She probably hadn’t, to be fair.

“Mmhmm,” he smiled. “We’ve already got the bases. You can put whatever you like on top.”

She perked up a bit at that and offered him a wary smile, and your brother chuckled. “I can see she’ll be in good hands tonight. Not too much sugar afterwards though?” he said and you nodded.

“Take care,” you said, giving him a quick hug. He bowed his head once and climbed back into his truck after handing Celia’s bag to you and giving her a farewell hug and asking her to behave herself.

Celia trailed you inside, but didn’t seem to settle. She kept looking warily at Mikaeïl, and the more often it happened, the more distressed Mikaeïl seemed to get. Not that it really showed, but there were little cracks in that porcelain mask of his that seemed larger to your trained eyes now than they ever had before.

He ground his teeth and looked a little panicked. Then he blinked and smiled slightly. “Celia?” he asked in a quiet, gentle voice. “Do you like magic tricks?”

“Yeah…?” she said cautiously from her seat beside you in the conservatory full of plants.

“Do you know what a sparkler is?” he asked, going over to a kitchen drawer. You watched him curiously but didn’t intervene. He had captivated her attention completely.

“Yes,” she said. “We have them at Halloween.”

“That’s right. I know it’s not Halloween now, but I have some. Would you like me to show you a trick with one?”

“Like a magician’s trick?” she asked, unimpressed.

He shook his head. “No. I’m going to use real magic. You want to know a secret first?”

She nodded immediately.

“Well, you’ll have to promise not to tell anyone unless I say you can… Can you keep a secret?”

Celia’s eyes widened and she nodded again.

“Alright,” he said, and knelt down again, lowering his head to show her his horns. “You see these?” he said, tapping one and she stepped warily closer. “You know what they are?”

“Horns,” she said, patronisingly.

“Indeed,” he chuckled, still with his head bowed. “And which creatures have horns?”

She thought for a moment. “Frankie does,” she said. “But you don’t have sheep feet.”

Both of you snorted at that and Mikaeïl bit his lips for a moment. “No,” he said, still smiling. “I don’t. Can you think of any other creatures who have horns?”

Again, she thought about it. “Tieflings have horns, and minotaurs, and… uh… some lizards do. There’s a lizardfolk girl in my class who has little horns but they’re yellow not red.”

“What about a dragon?” he said quietly and she gasped.

“Yes! But… You’re not a dragon…”

“How about if I told you I can change my shape,” he said. “Like a werewolf can shift between wolf and man…”

“You’re a weredragon?!” she giggled, clapping her hands. “Can you only change on the full moon?”

Mikaeïl shook his head and sat back a little bit, still down on one knee, but more crouched now and resting his elbow on his knee. “No,” he said. “I can shift whenever I like, but it’s very painful because becoming such a big creature takes a lot of effort. But that wasn’t why I wanted to tell you what I am. What can dragons do that most others can’t?”

“Fly?” A reasonable guess.

“That’s right, but what else can they do. It’s related to that sparkler I mentioned…”

She went very still and her eyes got even wider. “Can you breathe fire?”

“I can,” he said, “But only as a dragon. When I’m like this though, I can still control it. Shall I show you?”

He stood and got out the box of sparklers from the back of a low drawer and held one between finger and thumb. With a click of his fingers, the sparkler lit and began to crackle and fizz. Celia laughed at the simple trick, but when he raised his other hand and began to gesture, she gasped again. The little sputtering sparks flew away from the stick and began to dance around the room. Somehow he kept the reaction going and they popped and danced all the way around the room until they finally fizzled out.

“Do it again!” she cackled immediately.

That set the tone for much of the afternoon. Mikaeïl became almost another part of the family to her, listening to her stories about her music and the things that fascinated her, even though they couldn’t have been of any interest to him whatsoever.

Pizza making was probably a mistake, given that you ended up with olives on the ceiling and flour all over the floor by the end of it, but she had a grand time and only made it halfway through the cartoon movie she chose from Mikaeïl’s online TV subscription before she collapsed in a snoring pile of feathers between you on the sofa.

“Let’s get her up to bed,” he smiled, and you nodded.

You led a very sleepy child up and helped her wash her face and brush her teeth before tucking her and her little stuffed minotaur into bed for the night. “I’m just at the end of the corridor,” you said, “So if you need me, you can find me, but I hope you sleep well.”

As you left, she wiggled in bed and sat up. “Are you and Mikaeïl like mummy and daddy were?” she asked.

You felt a tightening in your throat as she brought up your late sister-in-law. She’d been the life and soul of every gathering until she’d fallen ill. “Maybe,” you said cautiously. “I’d like to be, but we haven’t known each other as long as Jon and your mother did.” A moment later you asked, “Do you like him?”

“Yeah,” she mumbled. “He’s scary but I think he’s nice.”

“I’ll tell him you said that,” you laughed and she giggled. “Go on, lights out.”

When you went downstairs again, you found Mikaeïl in the last stages of cleaning up the bomb-site that had been the kitchen.

“I’m sorry about that,” you said. “I know that wasn’t how you intended to spend our first weekend together.”

He looked up at you then and you saw a strange, tearful expression on his face.

“Mikaeïl?”

A single tear rolled down his cheek and he set the cloth down that he’d been using to wipe the surface.

You crossed to him and held him, cupping his cheek in one hand. “What is it?”

“She’s a delight,” he said. “That’s all.”

“That’s not all,” you insisted gently, “But you don’t have to share if you don’t want to.”

His eyes darted to the sofa and he said, “I’ll join you in a minute…” and you backed off, knowing he needed another few moments to himself. The arrival of you in his life had been one huge change for him - he’d told you as much already - and you didn’t mind being patient with him.

When he did come and sit with you, it was with a whisky in his slightly trembling fingers, and he sat with one leg folded under him in a remarkably childlike pose. You hooked your arm around his shoulders and gently toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Can I take it down?” you asked, tugging slightly at the hair tie.

He nodded, and a moment later his fiery red hair was falling loose around his shoulders.

“Thank you for the way you were with her today.”

“She was frightened of me to start with,” he said, staring at a point on the other side of the conservatory wall. Darkness pressed against the windows and you thought vaguely about shutting the blinds, but you didn’t want to move from his side. The length of his thigh was pressed against yours, as if drawing heat and comfort from the contact.

“She’s wary of most people,” you said. “I don’t think it was personal. She likes you now though… she told me so upstairs before I said goodnight.”

“Really?”

“Mmm. You worry too much, Mikaeïl,” you said, thumbing away the creases that lingered between his sharp copper brows. He still hadn’t really articulated quite what was troubling him.

After a sip of whisky, he said softly, “The ‘me’ that you’ve come to know…” he glanced around the kitchen, “Here, at home… It’s not the ‘me’ I present to the world. I find it difficult to reconcile the two people… you know?”

“I figured,” you said and he turned to look at you. “I mean, when I first met you, I thought you wanted to eat me or something. You looked so cross that I’d held up your day with a question about flute lessons for my niece…”

“I was cross,” he admitted with a chuckle. “And I was late to my lecture because of you.”

“You were?”

“Mmm.”

“I’m sorry.”

He laughed again and his shoulders dropped a good two inches as he relaxed. He surprised you by kissing you, not squarely on the mouth, but delicately, right in the corner. “I’m worried that at the fund-raiser next week… I won’t be the person you’ve come to know. I’m worried that you won’t like ‘Professor Mikaeïl…’”

You snorted and grabbed his whisky from his hand, setting it down on the low table before swinging into his lap to straddle him. He looked surprised, but pleased. “I’ve heard you being called ‘Kaeïl’ by Frankie, and ‘Mikki’ by Kiriavin, and I’m sure your sister has a few choice names for you as well, judging by what you’ve told me about her. You can be lots of different things to different people, Mikaeïl, but you are this to me,” you said, and you grabbed his horns and kissed him.

He bucked his hips up slightly into you at that, with his deep, sonorous, happy rumbling echoing in his chest, before holding your waist and then hugging you tightly while he kissed you back.

When you finally parted, he smiled, eyes glowing and glistening, and said, “I worry too much.” You both laughed at that.

—

Part Twelve

I really hope you folks enjoyed this one! Don’t forget to let me know if you did enjoy it by leaving a like and/or reblogging it!

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#dragon shifter #dragon shifter x reader #dragon x reader #male dragon x reader #embers #weekly chapters #weekly story #nearly finished now though!!#not too many more chapters left!#hope you're still enjoying it

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arianaofimladris · 4 years ago

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The beginning of an end

Another @whumptober2020 story, finning in prompts:

No 7. I’VE GOT YOU Support | Carrying | Enemy to Caretaker

No 13. BREATHE IN BREATHE OUT Delayed Drowning | Chemical Pneumonia | Oxygen Mask

No 23. WHAT’S A WHUMPEE GOTTA DO TO GET SOME SLEEP AROUND HERE? Exhaustion | Narcolepsy | Sleep Deprivation

Fandom: The Silmarillion

As Glaurung destroyes the Gap and the landsare consumed with fire, Maglor seeks refugee in Himring.

The scene taking place below was close to the utter chaos. The sea of elves, horses and wagons seemed to fill in every street around the inner fortress. They came all mixed, civilians and warriors alike, Maglor’s and his own, who had dwelled away from Himring.

Maedhros watched the commotion from the height of the inner walls, but as the refugees, most without horses now, reached the courtyard, he ran down the stairs. Every set of hands seemed to be needed, even a defective one, he thought with a hint of grim amusement as he helped one of his soldiers down from his mount; his people alone came with the horses. Almost everyone carried a wounded or a child. As one of them reported to Maedhros, those who were not helping in the transportation, stayed behind to protect the column of the refugees.

Alcarino, indispensable Alcarino was there from the very beginning, ordering the worst wounded to be taken to the chambers that would be adapted for healing rooms. Maedhros left these arrangements for him and the other healers, knowing they would know best what they were going to need. He appointed two of his guards to take the sleepy, exhausted children to the refectory and get them warm. A few women went with them, while other, healthier, remained and helped with the wounded or the stock that had to be kept under roof.

Maedhros worked alongside his men, but every time they helped a wounded from horse or a wagon to be taken to the healing ward, he glanced to see if it wasn’t Maglor. In all the commotion he had no means to ask about him when there was do much to do. He forced back the gnawing feeling of panic every time he pushed another child towards the warm hall or answered a question of yet another confused refugee.

Maglor was the last to come. They rode in, a small group of soldiers who barely found space in the already crowded yard. Everyone, save for a few Maedhros’s men, was dirty and covered with ash and blood, but the eldest son of Feanor spotted the familiar silhouette of his brother. He answered some question without bothering to check who was asking and rushed towards Maglor, who swayed dangerously in his saddle.

“Kano!” Maedhros kept him steady before he fell.

“We couldn’t...” Maglor rasped and stopped, coughing violently. He was shaking badly, his good hand clenched on the saddle. His tunic was burned, his trousers torn and his cloak was all but scraps. Moving them aside, Maedhros saw that he was missing a sleeve and a bracer.

“I see,” he nodded shortly and put his arms around his waist. “I’ve got you,” he muttered as Maglor all but fell into his arms and went limp.

***

Cold. Wet. Hurts.

I fell, Maglor thought. I fell and they left me in the snow.

Terrified, he snapped his eyes open and saw a ceiling. The pain remained, radiating from his burned arm and side, and his cheek stung with barest flinch, but the only wet thing turned out to be a poultice on his throat, which he removed as soon as he sat up.

We managed, he realised and a wave of relief washed over him. He looked around and recognised Maedhros’s bedroom. The sorry remains of wood in the fireplace explained the chill in the chamber, but instead of burying himself deeper in the blankets, Maglor rose from the bed to search for some clothes. His own he located on a pile in the corner, but they were all but useless. His shoes alone were still wearable. Cold and exhausted as he was, he would have sunk back in hope to get warmer, but his throat was dry and sore, and his stomach cramped. He had not eaten since their escape from his ruined stronghold. The fumes of the dragon were suffocating and poisonous, and the smoke seemed to have burned their throats, those who had been exposed the longest. Maglor had only managed to swallow some water on their way. In all the confusion he found it hard to count how many days they had been running away.

Shaking even with a blanket tossed over his shoulders, Maglor ventured unsteadily to his brother’s wardrobe. He found clean trousers and a belt, a shirt and a thick jacket. Dressing up proved to be a challenge, but at least someone had covered the burns with bandages, which was a considerable improvement. He hadn’t had a chance to address his wounds after the burning ceiling beam had fallen on him and almost trapped him, so his torn clothes rubbed against them during the whole way to Himring.

The clothes helped only a little and Maglor was still shaking. Since he could not find any cloak and his own was too ruined to use, he tossed a blanket over his shoulders and left. He intended to see where his people were and if they had been provided with everything, but before he went downstairs, a fit of coughing made him double over. Clutching his blanket and using the nearest wall as support, he reached the great hall, but one glance was enough to ensure him he would not find his warriors there. The hall had been adapted for a temporary shelter for civilians, mostly women and children. There were cauldrons with food on the tables and bedrolls spread on the floor. Maglor recognised one of the sleeping boys, his father was among his guards... Had been, he realised with a pang of remorse and looked away. There, by the wall, one of the Sindar elleths was rocking a noldorin infant. He vaguely remember having seen the child being rescued from a broken, empty wagon. It was a small relief to know that the child had survived the journey. He smiled briefly as the elleth looked up, then winced and stepped back on the corridor.

The kitchens were close. Maglor slipped inside and welcomed the inviting heat with relief. Elves were working tirelessly by the long table, one of its end currently occupied by a few of Maedhros’s guards. There were cauldrons with stew boiling over the fire.

“What do you need?” one of the elleths asked, clearly not recognising Maglor as she looked briefly over the bowl she was carrying. “There’s warm food in the refectory, I’ve just brought it,” she suggested. “Or is it the healers you’re looking for?”

“No,” whispered Maglor, unsure he could be heard in the commotion. He came closer to the table. “I can’t-“ he coughed and placed his good hand on his throat.

“Oh, of course,” the elleth nodded in understanding. “Failien, where is that soup?” She called over her shoulder.

“Coming!” One of the elleths working by the fire poured a huge mug with a mushed soup and turned around. “My lord Kanafinwe!” she exclaimed and reached them hastily. “Do you need anything? Shall I send for anyone?”

“No,” Maglor rasped and coughed. He took the mug and curled his cold fingers around it. “Thank you. Don’t mind me, I’ll be gone soon.”

His stomach growled, so he took a generous sip and regretted it just as quickly, as it was too warm for his raw throat. Putting the soup aside, he sank miserably on a free bench standing by the wall. It was delightfully warm and Maglor leaned against it, tugging the blanket closely. He had to wait for the soup to cool down anyway...

***

The Gap was no more. Maglor’s city was burned to the ground, so were the lands. The news Maedhros had managed to gather from Maglor’s people was full of despair and bore little hope. The casualties were great, impossible for now to assess. He learned that his brother had sent messengers to Curufin and Celegorm, and south to Caranthir and Amras, but there was no way of knowing whether they had reached their brothers in time to warn them against the upcoming attack. With the dragon roaming freely and destroying everything on his way, and with the hoards of orcs and other nasty creatures of Morgoth, the chances were small. And the sheer force and impact of the attack suggested the enemy was not going to withdraw unless stopped.

Maedhros dearly wished he could gather his warriors and go after the dragon and the orcs that dared destroy their hard-earned peace, but it was impossible for now. The beast the refugees spoke of was greater and stronger than the young lizard Fingon had once chased away. Maedhros knew too little to risk venturing and emptying the fortress of all the soldiers. There were too many wounded among Maglor’s people and they needed time to heal before they could aid Himring’s crew and reinforce the defences.

For now he settled for sending patrols great in number to check the neighbourhood for any possible survivors. And though his hand itched for a sword, Maedhros decided to remain within his fortress rather than to join his people. There was too much to do to leave it to Vorindon only. The structure of the fortress had to be rearranged to find accommodation for all the refugees, the weakest parts of the stronghold had to be refreshed. Maedhros needed a complex plan, but for now it seemed they were only reacting to the problems at hand, finding temporary solutions to wield the chaos just enough to allow any actual planning to take place.

With all that, a sudden break took Maedhros by surprise. Silence fell on the walls, nobody came with reports or questions. The courtyard seemed almost abandoned, with the wounded transported already to the healing wards. Only the wagons, now almost empty, stood witness to the earlier commotion. Horses had been taken care of, people had been ushered inside. It seemed the whole fortress was resting after a busy night, but it was just an impression. Inside the walls, some were indeed resting and gathering strength after the desperate escape, but others were still working tirelessly - healers, cooks and warriors alike. It seemed though that nobody needed their commander at the moment, so Maedhros decided to use the break while he could. Only now did he realise when was the last time he had eaten. Since the refectory served temporarily as a sleeping place and there was little space for anything, let alone gathering for a meal like they normally would, Maedhros headed directly for the kitchens. He intended to grasp some food and check on his brother. He had not received any alarming news concerning his state, so he assumed Maglor was resting and hoped they could talk soon.

As soon as he entered the kitchens, he spotted his brother’s familiar silhouette. Maglor was sleeping, crooked, leaning against the chimney, with a cocoon of a colourful blanket around his arms. Maedhros reached him quickly and almost tripped a mug standing dangerously close to the edge of the bench.

“Kano.” Leaning, he placed his hand on Maglor’s good shoulder. “Makalaure, wake up.”

“Mmmm,” the singer muttered incoherently and coughed, grasping the edges of the blanket slipped from his shoulders.

“What are you doing here?” asked Maedhros and brushed away tussled hair from his brother’s face, careful not to touch the dried ointment on his cheek. “Kano, do you know where you are?”

“Kitchen,” Maglor rasped and opened his eyes reluctantly. “You killed the dragon?”

“What?” Maedhros shook his head in surprise. “No, whatever gave you that idea?”

“Wake me when you’re done,” Maglor closed his eyes again and curled.

“And meanwhile you will be sleeping in the kitchen?” Maedhros arched an eyebrow. “No way, there is enough space in my rooms for both of us.”

Maglor sighed and looked up. “Forgot how bloody cold it is here,” he complained so quietly his brother could barely hear him.

Cold. Maedhros cursed when he realised it was the chill that had chased his brother from his rooms, as probably someone had forgotten to fuel the fire. It was hardly surprising in all the mess they were still trying to wield, but the heat was highly desirable, if the way Maglor pressed his back against the chimney was any indication.

“Now that can be fixed,” Maedhros promised him. He fished one of guards who had just finished eating and sent him to have the fire lit and the bed warmed. Seeing that Maglor was now a bit more awake, he picked the mug that was a little beyond his reach and took a sip.

“Ugh. It’s cold,” he made a face and intended to ask someone to add some hot soup, but Maglor snatched the mug from his grasp.

“Good. Maybe I can swallow that.”

Maedhros left his brother sipping the soup carefully and ventured for some food. After so many hours of keeping vigil in the cold, he too could feel the chill creeping on him, so he gladly accepted a bowl of hot stew. He sat next to Maglor and having placed the bowl on his knees, ate, glancing at his brother from time to time.

“Any better?” he inquired quietly when Maglor put his mug aside and curled again.

“Cold,” he whispered. “Where are my men?” Maedhros let out an exasperated snort. “Everywhere. Alcarino is taking care of the wounded, the civilians are being accommodated. Vorindon took those who can join my people in defenses,” he explained shortly, watching his brother with concern. After a moment in the kitchen he was already sweaty in his robes, yet Maglor was still shaking. His eyes were glassy, his breathing shallow and Maedhros didn’t like the unhealthy flush on his cheeks. But the most significant was the fact that Maglor didn’t care at all where he had chosen to rest. “We’ll talk later, Kano. Now I think Alcarino should take a look at you.”

Maglor only nodded and rose slowly. A sharp hiss escaped his lips. Seeing how unsteady he was on his feet, Maedhros put his arm around his back, careful not to touch his brother’s right side. Maglor leaned on him heavily as they walked towards the temporary healing ward.

#whumptober2020 #no.7 #no.13 #no.23 #I've got you #support #chemical pneumonia #well dragon-induced pneumonia anyway #exhaustion #fanfic #The Silmarillion #Maedhros #Maglor #Dagor Bragollah #Alcarino

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etherian-affairs · 6 years ago

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Rescue Mission

The continued Etherian adventures of Mirak and the Horde United.

OC Story but Perfuma is here this time.

Mirak was angry. Very angry. The sort of anger only her people could know. At least presumably. Lesser species could get angry but Mirak was relatively certain that like all other emotions they felt it was a less impressive form of anger. Second Officer Cass sat nearby, watching the seven foot tall death dealer pace in their little hidey hole. Mirak was growling and cursing under her breath. A thousand combat scenarios playing through her honed mind.

They had lost Tim.

Well Tim had been captured. By Princesses no less! Flower princesses! Couldn't they tell his emblem was white and not red?! Ridiculous! Rude even! Now Tim was probably being tortured for information he doesn't have! Unacceptable! Tim belongs to Mirak! He is HER Lizard Man! Only she gets to torture him!

She has to pause to hold her breather to her mouth and take a few clean breathes. After so many without it the air really begins to hurt.

Lavender eyes, ablaze with rage, shoot to Cass, who leans back in a notably wary fashion. "Yeah?..." The human asks. Her own brown eyes showing the slightest hint of fear, her pulse visible on her neck.

"We're getting Tim back. Tonight!" Mirak declares!

"O-okay... How though... Last we saw they were taking him back to Plumeria... Like the actual... Town? City? Autonomous collective?" Cass momentarily confuses herself and honestly Mirak has no idea what Plumeria was either from a technical standpoint.

"kingdom!" She hisses out anyway. "and it doesn't matter! We're getting Tim! We'll infiltrate!" Yes! That was a good plan. A stealth mission. Mirak had much experience in those. In getting in and out of places she should not be in. Of removing people in those places from existence.

"... Um..." Cass begins. "Okay but... and I mean this respectfully. You're a seven foot tall bat creature that looks like Lord Hordak." She points out.

That was a potential problem at first glance. In space this was usually solved with her sleek black stealth armor and bad lighting but on Etheria all she has is her cobbled together gear and ridiculously good cinematic lighting. Luckily Mirak has thought this through! She had run the scenarios! Her brain was honed for these sorts of things by decades of training and indoctrination and even a fair bit of eugenic breeding and cybernetic engineering.

Mirak pushes away the little voice in her head telling her that she needs both physical and psychological maintenance very badly. Preferably before her unstable psyche and modified body suffer breakdowns. There is a mission to finish.

So instead her lavender fangs glint in the low light of the small hideout. "Don't worry little Cass, Lady Mirak has a plan."

Cass's complexion goes pale.

...

It was a good plan, Mirak's plan. Her plans are often good. This was of course due to the fact that she thinks of them. Currently the defacto leader of the Horde United was skulking in the trees at the edge of Plumeria. The sun was almost done setting and her goggles could be off for a change, letting her eyes be free!

The fact said eyes give off a very visible lavender glow was of no concern to Mirak. People tend to not notice that until it is too late for them.

Cass had been sent on her daring infiltration mission so now Mirak needed only to wait for the signal.

It was simple, elegant. Cass would head into Plumeria posing as a simple traveler and ask for a place to stay the night. Then when the pitiful sleepy Etherian natives found themselves too tired to stay awake Cass would go search Plumeria for Tim's location. Upon locating Tim she would signal for Mirak by making a specific series of clanking sounds with some pans in her gear which Mirak's superior ears would of course pick up without issue.

Then phase two would begin, Mirak would light Plumeria on fire and they would get Tim. Simple and elegant, as previously said. Efficient too.

'When in doubt, burn it all down' as her old academy instructors would say.

Mirak waits in the shadows for what must be hours. The sun goes down. Music picks up in Plumeria. They're not sleeping... This is a problem.

Etherians are weak sleepy things! They should be sleeping!

A change of plan is required. That's alright, no plan ever survives contact with the enemy after all. Mirak shifts in place, readying the makeshift flamer she had cobbled together. It's an objectively dangerous device, made out of a stun baton, a scavenged pump, and skiff fuel. It looks liable to blow up if used. She will use it to ignite the immediate area, drawing the Plumerians out to fight the fire. Then she will light them on fire as well.

Fortunately before she can unleash her righteous fury upon the Princesses and their evil trees, or just blow herself up with her makeshift flamer, Mirak's sensitive ears and night honed eyes pick out someone approaching! An Etherian woman! Tallish for them. Blonde. Flowers in her hair.

Disgusting.

"Hello?" Said Etherian woman speaks up, foolishly making herself known to anyone who might not have already detected her! "Um... I was told a Mirak would be waiting out here?"

A Mirak?! The only Mirak here is Mirak herself. This could only mean one thing... They got Cass, and are so effective at plant based torture that she immediately gave up the details of the plan! Of course she did, Cass is a little pathetic thing. Cute but not nearly as capable as Mirak or Tim.

Improvise Mirak! Improvise!

Mirak returns the flamer to her back and reaches for her hip to pull her spare stun baton up. Firing a ranged blast will alert anyone else searching. She can't run on her bad legs but if she waits her long stride should let her close on this pathetic search party of one quickly enough and eliminate her relatively quietly. The Etherian doesn't seem to have any weapons after all. A strange oversight.

"I was told by Tim and Cass you were out here? Waiting to rescue Tim? My name is Perfuma and I wanted to invite you in to Plumeria, and apologize for the misunderstanding."

Mirak hesitates! A new development?! No... It must be a trick...

Suddenly the alien warrior surges out of the brush as fast as her poorly constructed legs can take her, raising her baton and snarling. Perfuma looks stunned, eyes wide, freezing in place. No doubt the terrifying visage of one from the same species as Lord Hordak charging causes a moment of panic.

Then suddenly.

"Oh there she is." It's Tim! That's Tim's voice! Coming from her left flank!

Mirak doesn't stop her charge however! She can eliminate this princess then talk to Tim!

Unfortunately a vine that definitely was not there a moment ago trips Mirak and she tumbles over.

"Oh. I'm sorry. Tim told me you would try to kill me and that I should trip you because you have terrible feet made of scrap metal." The Perfuma creature sounds apologetic. A clever ruse. "oh my you are quite frightening though..."

More important than whatever Perfuma is saying is that Tim is a traitor. Mirak looks over to him from her place on the ground. Gauging if she can get a shot off on him and get up at the same time. He's standing in his armor, a ring of flowers on his head. He waves with one hand, biting into a fruit with the other. "Hey Mirak. I told them what was actually going on and they let me go. I knew you'd come to get me so... I've just been waiting."

"We do apologise. We did not realize the significance of his emblem being white instead of red."

Mirak looks back and forth between them before she slowly stands up. Deciding not to shoot Tim. "How can I be sure this is not some elaborate ruse?" Mirak asks with suspicion.

Perfuma's eyes are wide again, staring up at the creature before her. Mirak could probably lunge and get a bite in on that long neck before Perfuma could do any more plant trickery.

At least if she didn't have her breather on.

"It's not!" Suddenly Cass! She's approaching too! Way to go Cass, big help you were. "They're having a party and Tim was just hanging out there. Really worked out for us!"

There is a tense moment as Mirak hmms and thinks this through. Then she deactivates her baton and holsters it. "So you were not tortured Tim?"

"Not at all."

"Not even a little?"

"Not even really weak torture."

Mirak's brow furrows. Strange. They had him for hours. Mirak would have started torturing immediately!

Perfuma finally seems to regain her composure. "Um... If you promise to remain nonviolent we would be happy to welcome you to Plumeria. You are fellow rebels after all." She smiles.

Mirak looks at her two compatriots who are nodding enthusiastically.

"Very well. We shall see what sort of hospitality Princesses can give us!" Mirak Huffs! She's heard her old Madame Huff before and it feels right!

Perfuma claps her hands together. "Wonderful! I am sure everyone will be interested in seeing you as well. The children will love your ears!"

"What?" Mirak stares dumbfounded. Tim and Cass both snicker.

...

It's not a bad night. Mirak gets to terrify some people. There's music and some dancing. Mirak acquires a cool piece of wood to use for a future maker project. Also she learns that apparently she qualifies as a 'maker' and should apply for the makers guild.

Mirak will probably not be doing that.

Also there's fruit. She's not huge on fruit, preferring meat and blood, but it's okay. It's food. Tim and Cass seem quite happy about it.

Maybe Princesses aren't all bad. Some definitely can remain un-cremated.

For now.

#my writing #my OCs #she ra OCs #mirak #lizard man tim #horde soldier cass #mirak's etherian adventures #perfuma

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chubbyooo · 6 years ago

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Blurred Lines Chapter 31 - Armande

writing mood has taken me so here we go with another chapter. I’ve been super excited to write this one for a while (warning strong language)

Ash wakes up after their sudden slumber

Ash could hear a faint murmuring as she awoke, she kept her eyes closed making sure not to arouse suspicion. When unsure of her situation it was best to be cautious, what had just happened? they were talking to Amy then she... oh yeah she drugged their drinks. She was furious she’d let her guard down around her this never normally happened, the murmuring got louder as Ash got her bearings, the accent sounded clipped and noble with a similar twinge to the noble they met on Nar Shaddaa. Damn it Ash knew they wouldn’t give up that easily, why was she always right to be paranoid.

As Ash opened her eyes just a slit she could see he was talking into a holocommunicator he seemed gaunt and hunched with messy grey hair covering his head and chin. “yes your highness we have them captured and the information shall come shortly” The man on the holo seemed to be sitting in some sort of throne Ash could only guess this was the current ruler of what was it Dubrillion? He was bald with a stern frown, wearing some form of ridiculous robes, that’s all she could make out from her view.

As he responded Ash could hear his grating voice pierce the chamber like a knife “very good Armande once your done send them here” with that the imposing figure’s holo dissipated and ‘Armande’ began talking to the guards. Ash began to assess the room it looked unlike any interrogation chamber she’d ever been in, a bed a closet this almost looked like... oh they were still at the hotel. These guys were clearly amateurs Ash had counted 4 guards total none of which carried electro shock sticks, if she wasn’t stuck to this chair they would all already be on the floor. It felt like zip ties holding her to the chair but they were definitely breakable, just noticeable she needed to be subtle. She saw Gacen slumped next to her seemingly still asleep which was probably for the best he would make a scene when he woke she had to assess their chances of escape. She saw three possible exits, the obvious door but that seemed like more trouble than it’s worth with more guards probably outside, the window which Ash didn’t want to repeat because they got extremely lucky last time and third was a vent she could see leading into the room seemed covert and possible. But none of that mattered if she couldn’t get past these five, they still seemingly hadn’t noticed she was awake so she still had a chance. Armande seemed to be preparing some interrogation tools, all pretty basic stuff tweezers to pull out nails, small drills and a number of liquid syringes she’d have to watch out for those. She looked to Gacen who was still sound asleep she would have to take her chance soon.

The guard to the right of her seemed unenthused and bored seems he’d be the easiest to take advantage of she just had to get out of the zip ties. She slowly turned her hands forward tensing them into fists, then a quick turn back and relaxing of her muscles and her thumbs were out. Ash shook them off honestly using zip ties was embarrassing it wasn’t that hard to get handcuffs, she kept her hands behind the chair as she looked to the guard next to her. He held a knife in his side pocket perfect, quickly she went to grab it then proceeding to stab it into his leg. He screamed out in pain alerting the rest of the room, three guards two left one right but she knew who she needed to go for. The guards on the right would go for their blasters aiming them at her the one on the right would try to grab her. She ducked immediately avoiding the volley of fire from the guards then slid under the left guard sweeping his legs as she went, she stood up quickly ready to assess her next move. Armande stood in the corner surprisingly unfazed by the commotion, the guard next to her would get up try to stop her and the other two would continue firing. Easy way to solve that she grabbed the guard lifting him up and throwing him in the firing line of the other two guards, she had to tense as she did it but nonetheless his body flew in the way of the blaster fire and knocked the guards to the ground. She proceeded to grab Armande putting the knife to his throat. He would try to wriggle free but Ash held him in a grip where that wasn’t possible too easy

Armande seemed to chuckle to himself “he he well my dear that was very impressive what amazing anticipation” he seemed strangely calm for someone who had lost which was never a good sign.

Ash could smell a musk coming from the man which was fairly off-putting “you move you’re dead” Ash unfortunately didn’t mean it but only because they could get information from him, they could still maim him though.

“oh yes of course but I think you’ve put yourself in a bit of a bad situation” she completely had the upper hand this guy was full of it “because you seem the best at anticipating but you can’t let go of me to stop this” As he said that she realised he was going to stab something into her leg but she would have to let him go to stop him. Before she could decide she felt the sharp prick in her upper thigh, instinctively she sliced with the knife but as she started she began to feel very woozy and gave up as she stumbled away for Armande. The room began to spin she could see people shifting from their positions very weirdly, she turned back to Armande who seemed to be covering his throat hah she had got him. She turned to see the guards coming towards her let’s see there was 3 wait no 5 wait no 4 wait, she felt herself grabbed by the guards and she was suddenly back in her seat, what the fuck she should’ve anticipated that. Wait she got stabbed with something was she drugged? she didn’t feel drugged? just kinda woozy, Armande came over still holding his throat. “well that was a regrettable decision now wasn’t it Ash” Armande spoke rather raspy all of a sudden that cut must’ve got him. Ash spat in his face causing him to flinch back

Ash was confused she totally got him “how are you even alive I just sliced your throat like so bad” that wasn’t what she meant to say that was weird

Armande laughed as he wiped the spit from his face “My dear that was an hour ago the drugs have kicked in” she waass drugged she totally knew it. Ash snorted to herself giggling loudly “am I missing something my dear?”were was that coming from she never giggled

what an idiot “this is by far the worst truth serum I have ever had I’m gonna be too loco to answer you, stupid moron” it was true this truth serum sucked

Armande raised his eyebrow “well good news it’s not truth serum I knew your skills and knew my guys wouldn’t be able to stop you so I inhibited your ability” aw that was so not cool she was gonna beat this guy into the ground

“so what you’re saying is that you’re a big baby coward pants” Ash giggled to herself, woah hold on why was his face all swirly no wait the room was swirly no wait she was swirly maybe they all were swirly.

Armande let out a long sigh as Ash began to stare into space “wake the other one up he’s the one we’re after” this prick just because his eyes were like bigger than hers he thinks he’s hot shit

Ash turned to see Gacen being jostled awake “ugh wha where am I” he looked around the room and spotted Ash looking at him quizzically

Ash waved “ good morning sleepy head we’ve totally been captured by this lizard” Ash gestured to the lizard where Armande was sitting, Gacen frowned at her looking ever so confused

Gacen looked deep in thought for a second “well still not the weirdest place I’ve woken up in the last week” had Gacen always had that many horns? had Gacen even had horns to begin with? oh my god Gacen was being attacked by horns!!! wait no he’d always had horns “who’s this smelly prick” he gestured to the lizard man in front of them

“oh that’s Armande captain of the cowardice ship he turned into a lizard a fe...” she looked at him that’s not a lizard that’s a human “never mind he’s back”

Gacen turned to Armande “ok I know you guys are the bad guys but what the fuck is up with Ash” Armande let out a very long sigh

“we drugged her to stop her from attacking us” he grimaced as Gacen began laughing to himself

“that actually makes a lot of sense” Gacen seemed like he didn’t have a plan

Ash leant over to Gacen and shouted “hey have you got a plan to get out of here I totally got the guards covered” Gacen turned to her giving her a long stern look

“I dunno Ash but maybe don’t shout it in front of the enemy” oh yeah Ash nodded in agreement winking

Armande interrupted them before they could say any more “ENOUGH look tell us what you know about Risha Drayen” Gacen nodded taking in a long sigh

“ok I’ll tell you just get in really close” no Gacen we were doing so well

“Gacen no don’t tell them” Ash pleaded he was gonna give it all up but Gacen put his hand up

Armande sighed and leant in Gacen grinned as he said “nothing” Ash let out a series of giggles as Armande’s face dropped into a grimace.

Armande got up “ok hit him” he began striding around the bed as a resounding whack hit Gacen square in the jaw. Gacen just smiled it off but Ash could feel a boiling rage build up inside her she would totally crack their skulls if moving wasn’t so hard right now.

A few loud punches later and Gacen’s face was full of bruises he spat blood onto the floor breathing heavily. Armande returned with some assorted tools “are we ready to talk now Captain” he held a blade of some kind

Gacen laughed “nah mate you can punch me as many times as you want that’s pretty much what I feel on a daily basis” Ash took a look at the tools on the desk seemed like your average setup bonesaw, drills more syringes wait she felt like she knew that already.

Ash chuckled to herself “yeah trust me it took me years to get him to open up you’d have better chances with the drugs” oops that may have been bad to say, Gacen turned to her slowly with wide eyes “Um never mind disregard that I’m drugged” Armande smiled picking up the syringe and jamming it into Gacen’s neck

Gacen’s pupils dilated instantly “ahhhhh woah Ash you weren’t kidding this stuff is bananas B A N A N A S” Gacen cracked up at his own joke and began laughing to himself

Ash joined in as Armande tried to speak over them “Ok I’ll ask again what do you know about Risha Drayen” Gacen began grinning, Ash thought she spotted an Ortolan in the corner and needed to find it

“She’s pretty awesome in bed Mr flying spaghetti oh also also also she’s really pretty” where was this spaghetti she couldn’t see it.

Armande gritted his teeth “fine let’s be more specific where is Risha Drayen” Ash snorted to herself

“your mothers butt!!!” Ash shouted out, Gacen quickly began dying of laughter as Ash followed suit

After he stopped laughing Gacen leant close in “nah but for real I dunno that’s what we’re finding out dumbass, it’s been like a day give my lady a little more credit.” Armande looked like all his anger was about to come out as Gacen made a kissy face at him

“you are very lucky I’ve been ordered to keep you alive, but I still need to know what your relation was to Risha, we are unclear on your previous statement on Nar Shaddaa” Gacen leant back and took a long sigh, that did seem pretty unavoidable phrasing, stupid truthy druggy serum.

“ugh fine I was her husband and her business partner, you know where it says the voidhound was Skavak well that’s a load of bs to throw you cucks off I don’t know who changed it but hey it got me off the hook from you guys for years” Gacen looked at the floor pursing his lips “is that enough can we go now”

Armande began to chuckle to himself “oh no I’m afraid King Actavarus III asked for you personally so don’t think we’re letting your little conquest continue” Gacen’s anger was visible now which was pretty rare for him, he tensed up snarling at Armande

“oh that giant pompus cunt wants to see me well we’ll see about that” He began to try and wriggle out of zip-ties but after about 30 seconds gave up panting “damn it Ash how do you do this? you make it looks so easy”

Ash had been completely somewhere else and when she snapped back she tried to stand up again. Summing up all her effort she stood up and looked ready to fight, as she did she saw a little canister enter the room from the vent and suddenly a searing white light filled the chamber causing her to reel back in pain. She could hear some muffled noises around her and when the white light cleared she could see all of the guards and Armande unconscious on the floor and a familiar zabrak form standing there.

Amy threw a gun in her direction “sorry I took so long they were really clingy with the money” Ash went to catch the gun but missed it fumbling as it fell onto the floor

Ash frowned at Amy as she began to untie Gacen “but you totally betrayed us why would you help us” Gacen was still swaying lightly clearly rattled from the beating, the drugs and the white light.

Amy finished untying Gacen who slumped to the floor “I was always gonna save you I just wanted a bit of money in the process” Ash frowned that seemed kinda unnecessary and still selfish if a bit less “is Gacen ok?”

Gacen grumbled on the floor “yeah he’s just been beaten up and drugged” Ash went to pick him up and even while still drugged it was an easy task

Amy sighed deeply “are you both drugged” Ash nodded wide eyed

Gacen lifted his arm up “I knew you’d come and saaaave us Amy I always had faith” he slumped back over Ash’s shoulder as he finished speaking

Ash didn’t believe that for a second “you did not” Gacen struggled limply as Ash began moving him towards the door

“I did so she’s always been loyal, anyway you’re the one with a crush on her” Ash felt her skin flush going a deep shade of purple

“i do not Gacen” Ash looked back to Amy who was checking a holopad “shut up she might’ve heard you” Gacen chuckled to himself as he gave in and let Ash carry him

Amy looked at them agitated “Guys we gotta get out of here it’s gonna be crawling with guards soon enough” Ash nodded as they left the hotel room, in the corridor things were conveniently quiet so they easily made their way to an elevator.

As they arrived in the elevator Ash stumbled nearly dropping Gacen “ok buddy you hold yourself up my arm is tired” she awkwardly laid Gacen down on the floor

Gacen lay there not moving “fine I guess I’ll just walk myself I’m fine now see look at what I can do” Gacen continued to lie still while his eyes darted around

Amy frowned at him “what are you doing” she had been loading some form of gadget on her arm with canisters Ash wondered if she had a air gun

Gacen’s eyes widened “crazy backflips and frontflips can’t you see them” Gacen continued to lie flat

“no we can’t” Amy let out an exasperated sigh, Ash had gotten distracted by the view from the elevator she could see the whole planet it was so shiny “damn it looks like they already got guards out looking for you we’re gonna have to hide you guys”

Gacen giggled “we’re great at hiding no problems Amamamamy” Gacen sat up looking out the window “ooooo we can go to the pool” Ash liked the sound of that idea

Amy didn’t seem to however “ok no there is no quicker way to get found out than hanging out at the pool in normal clothes, go hang out at the Pazaak tables you’ll fit in there” Gacen beamed at the idea and began to get out a credit chip “BUT do not play” Amy said with an exasperated sigh.

The elevator arrived and they headed to the Pazaak tables it smelled weird here Ash thought it might be a mix of like alcohol and oil? maybe, woah why were they on the ceiling, wait no the floor was on the ceiling.

Amy grabbed both their wrists “ok stay here lay low I’ll be back once it’s safe” Gacen nodded not looking away from the Pazaak table

Ash was already bored “fiiiine mom I’ll stay at the gambling tables” she didn’t know how families worked, Amy gave her a disapproving frown and ran off

Ash turned to the game maybe it could be interesting, she could see all sorts of aliens quickly placing cards with little numbers on them but some were red and blue or green? Ash leant in to Gacen’s shoulder “Gacen I don’t understand what’s going on?”

Gacen jumped seemingly surprised she was there “how long have you been there?” Ash shrugged she wasn’t actually very sure how long. Gacen nodded and began to explain “well Pazaak is a simple game really you need to get 21 and the dealer deals cards with numbers on them, then you choose to fold or stay in you can go ov...” Ash stopped listening she had seen a sign that said ‘observation deck’ and it sounded cool she’d always loved seeing planets close up all those people down there doing things while she could see them all well sort of they were there but so small in her vision but they were there. “and that is why minus cards rock and plus cards are stupid?” Ash suddenly snapped back to the conversation what was he talking about

“oh yeah sure totally pluses suck” that wasn’t convincing at all

Gacen frowned “you weren’t even listening were you” Ash reluctantly nodded

Ash quickly forgot about the pazaak grabbed his arm “hey look there’s an observation deck wanna see the planet” she smiled at him as he considered the idea

“I feel like we’re supposed to be here but I don’t remember why” he paused “sure lets go” they rushed over to a lift and within a minute they entered a private viewing booth

Ash looked up seeing the planet in all it’s glory, the whispy clouds covering the sparkling blue oceans and lush green grasslands so pretty and very hypnotic. She felt herself getting very dizzy and suddenly realised she was lying on the floor, she looked up and saw Gacen also lying down, they both started laughing “I think the drugs are still in our systems”

Gacen sat up leaning against a sofa “ok let’s test tell me something you wouldn’t tell me normally” Ash squinted for a second trying to think of something

her eyes widened as she thought of something “oh I’ve got it Ash isn’t my real name” she had never told anyone that not that it was very important

Gacen looked super taken aback “what do you mean?” Ash also sat up opposite him “are you a spy?”

“no dummy, my full name is Ash’shen’tor right and my equivalent of a first name is in the middle bit so Shen, Ash is my family name” Gacen looked off dizzily for a second

“what?” Gacen looked entirely confused, Ash began giggling to herself

“it’s like my family name like yours is Zandar but when I was abandoned people didn’t know that so they called me Ash” Gacen leaned back comprehending what he just heard

“huh, should I call you Shen then” Ash burst out laughing not sure why it was so funny

“no please I like Ash fine, anyway you tell me something you wouldn’t normally tell me it’s only fair” she never cared for chiss customs anyway

Gacen rubbed his chin for a second “ok sure” he paused “I have a sister that I am estranged from” Ash’s eyes widened she had a hunch it was something like that but was never sure

Gacen seemed pretty serious she shouldn’t press it “oh wow I can’t even imagine there being two of you” they both snorted with laughter

“hey how dare you two of me would be wonderful” he paused lowering his smile “she’s uh not that much like me anyway” Ash nodded

“I think one of you is enough for me, even that is excessive” Ash joked as Gacen’s smile returned as he began to laugh quietly

Suddenly the elevator opened and Ash could see the form of Amy stride into the room “ok what the fuck did you think I meant when I said stay put” Ash and Gacen both laughed, Ash slipped back onto the floor

Gacen perked up wobbling as he stood up “hey that’s what you get for trying to make money out of me Ames” Amy gave him a reluctant nod and they headed out...

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lewiscarrollsocietynorthamerica · 5 years ago

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CHAPTER XI. Who Stole the Tarts?

The King and Queen of Hearts were seated on their throne when they arrived, with a great crowd assembled about them—all sorts of little birds and beasts, as well as the whole pack of cards: the Knave was standing before them, in chains, with a soldier on each side to guard him; and near the King was the White Rabbit, with a trumpet in one hand, and a scroll of parchment in the other. In the very middle of the court was a table, with a large dish of tarts upon it: they looked so good, that it made Alice quite hungry to look at them—‘I wish they’d get the trial done,’ she thought, ‘and hand round the refreshments!’ But there seemed to be no chance of this, so she began looking at everything about her, to pass away the time.

Alice had never been in a court of justice before, but she had read about them in books, and she was quite pleased to find that she knew the name of nearly everything there. ‘That’s the judge,’ she said to herself, ‘because of his great wig.’

The judge, by the way, was the King; and as he wore his crown over the wig, (look at the frontispiece if you want to see how he did it,) he did not look at all comfortable, and it was certainly not becoming.

‘And that’s the jury-box,’ thought Alice, ‘and those twelve creatures,’ (she was obliged to say ‘creatures,’ you see, because some of them were animals, and some were birds,) ‘I suppose they are the jurors.’ She said this last word two or three times over to herself, being rather proud of it: for she thought, and rightly too, that very few little girls of her age knew the meaning of it at all. However, ‘jury-men’ would have done just as well.

The twelve jurors were all writing very busily on slates. ‘What are they doing?’ Alice whispered to the Gryphon. ‘They can’t have anything to put down yet, before the trial’s begun.’

‘They’re putting down their names,’ the Gryphon whispered in reply, ‘for fear they should forget them before the end of the trial.’

‘Stupid things!’ Alice began in a loud, indignant voice, but she stopped hastily, for the White Rabbit cried out, ‘Silence in the court!’ and the King put on his spectacles and looked anxiously round, to make out who was talking.

Alice could see, as well as if she were looking over their shoulders, that all the jurors were writing down ‘stupid things!’ on their slates, and she could even make out that one of them didn’t know how to spell ‘stupid,’ and that he had to ask his neighbour to tell him. ‘A nice muddle their slates’ll be in before the trial’s over!’ thought Alice.

One of the jurors had a pencil that squeaked. This of course, Alice could not stand, and she went round the court and got behind him, and very soon found an opportunity of taking it away. She did it so quickly that the poor little juror (it was Bill, the Lizard) could not make out at all what had become of it; so, after hunting all about for it, he was obliged to write with one finger for the rest of the day; and this was of very little use, as it left no mark on the slate.

‘Herald, read the accusation!’ said the King.

On this the White Rabbit blew three blasts on the trumpet, and then unrolled the parchment scroll, and read as follows:—

‘The Queen of Hearts, she made some tarts, All on a summer day: The Knave of Hearts, he stole those tarts, And took them quite away!’

‘Consider your verdict,’ the King said to the jury.

‘Not yet, not yet!’ the Rabbit hastily interrupted. ‘There’s a great deal to come before that!’

‘Call the first witness,’ said the King; and the White Rabbit blew three blasts on the trumpet, and called out, ‘First witness!’

The first witness was the Hatter. He came in with a teacup in one hand and a piece of bread-and-butter in the other. ‘I beg pardon, your Majesty,’ he began, ‘for bringing these in: but I hadn’t quite finished my tea when I was sent for.’

‘You ought to have finished,’ said the King. ‘When did you begin?’

The Hatter looked at the March Hare, who had followed him into the court, arm-in-arm with the Dormouse. ‘Fourteenth of March, I think it was,’ he said.

‘Fifteenth,’ said the March Hare.

‘Sixteenth,’ added the Dormouse.

‘Write that down,’ the King said to the jury, and the jury eagerly wrote down all three dates on their slates, and then added them up, and reduced the answer to shillings and pence.

‘Take off your hat,’ the King said to the Hatter.

‘It isn’t mine,’ said the Hatter.

‘Stolen!’ the King exclaimed, turning to the jury, who instantly made a memorandum of the fact.

‘I keep them to sell,’ the Hatter added as an explanation; ‘I’ve none of my own. I’m a hatter.’

Here the Queen put on her spectacles, and began staring at the Hatter, who turned pale and fidgeted.

‘Give your evidence,’ said the King; ‘and don’t be nervous, or I’ll have you executed on the spot.’

This did not seem to encourage the witness at all: he kept shifting from one foot to the other, looking uneasily at the Queen, and in his confusion he bit a large piece out of his teacup instead of the bread-and-butter.

Just at this moment Alice felt a very curious sensation, which puzzled her a good deal until she made out what it was: she was beginning to grow larger again, and she thought at first she would get up and leave the court; but on second thoughts she decided to remain where she was as long as there was room for her.

‘I wish you wouldn’t squeeze so.’ said the Dormouse, who was sitting next to her. ‘I can hardly breathe.’

‘I can’t help it,’ said Alice very meekly: ‘I’m growing.’

‘You’ve no right to grow here,’ said the Dormouse.

‘Don’t talk nonsense,’ said Alice more boldly: ‘you know you’re growing too.’

‘Yes, but I grow at a reasonable pace,’ said the Dormouse: ‘not in that ridiculous fashion.’ And he got up very sulkily and crossed over to the other side of the court.

All this time the Queen had never left off staring at the Hatter, and, just as the Dormouse crossed the court, she said to one of the officers of the court, ‘Bring me the list of the singers in the last concert!’ on which the wretched Hatter trembled so, that he shook both his shoes off.

‘Give your evidence,’ the King repeated angrily, ‘or I’ll have you executed, whether you’re nervous or not.’

‘I’m a poor man, your Majesty,’ the Hatter began, in a trembling voice, ‘—and I hadn’t begun my tea—not above a week or so—and what with the bread-and-butter getting so thin—and the twinkling of the tea—’

‘The twinkling of the what?’ said the King.

‘It began with the tea,’ the Hatter replied.

‘Of course twinkling begins with a T!’ said the King sharply. ‘Do you take me for a dunce? Go on!’

‘I’m a poor man,’ the Hatter went on, ‘and most things twinkled after that—only the March Hare said—’

‘I didn’t!’ the March Hare interrupted in a great hurry.

‘You did!’ said the Hatter.

‘I deny it!’ said the March Hare.

‘He denies it,’ said the King: ‘leave out that part.’

‘Well, at any rate, the Dormouse said—’ the Hatter went on, looking anxiously round to see if he would deny it too: but the Dormouse denied nothing, being fast asleep.

‘After that,’ continued the Hatter, ‘I cut some more bread-and-butter—’

‘But what did the Dormouse say?’ one of the jury asked.

‘That I can’t remember,’ said the Hatter.

‘You must remember,’ remarked the King, ‘or I’ll have you executed.’

The miserable Hatter dropped his teacup and bread-and-butter, and went down on one knee. ‘I’m a poor man, your Majesty,’ he began.

‘You’re a very poor speaker,’ said the King.

Here one of the guinea-pigs cheered, and was immediately suppressed by the officers of the court. (As that is rather a hard word, I will just explain to you how it was done. They had a large canvas bag, which tied up at the mouth with strings: into this they slipped the guinea-pig, head first, and then sat upon it.)

‘I’m glad I’ve seen that done,’ thought Alice. ‘I’ve so often read in the newspapers, at the end of trials, “There was some attempts at applause, which was immediately suppressed by the officers of the court,” and I never understood what it meant till now.’

‘If that’s all you know about it, you may stand down,’ continued the King.

‘I can’t go no lower,’ said the Hatter: ‘I’m on the floor, as it is.’

‘Then you may sit down,’ the King replied.

Here the other guinea-pig cheered, and was suppressed.

‘Come, that finished the guinea-pigs!’ thought Alice. ‘Now we shall get on better.’

‘I’d rather finish my tea,’ said the Hatter, with an anxious look at the Queen, who was reading the list of singers.

‘You may go,’ said the King, and the Hatter hurriedly left the court, without even waiting to put his shoes on.

‘—and just take his head off outside,’ the Queen added to one of the officers: but the Hatter was out of sight before the officer could get to the door.

‘Call the next witness!’ said the King.

The next witness was the Duchess’s cook. She carried the pepper-box in her hand, and Alice guessed who it was, even before she got into the court, by the way the people near the door began sneezing all at once.

‘Give your evidence,’ said the King.

‘Shan’t,’ said the cook.

The King looked anxiously at the White Rabbit, who said in a low voice, ‘Your Majesty must cross-examine this witness.’

‘Well, if I must, I must,’ the King said, with a melancholy air, and, after folding his arms and frowning at the cook till his eyes were nearly out of sight, he said in a deep voice, ‘What are tarts made of?’

‘Pepper, mostly,’ said the cook.

‘Treacle,’ said a sleepy voice behind her.

‘Collar that Dormouse,’ the Queen shrieked out. ‘Behead that Dormouse! Turn that Dormouse out of court! Suppress him! Pinch him! Off with his whiskers!’

For some minutes the whole court was in confusion, getting the Dormouse turned out, and, by the time they had settled down again, the cook had disappeared.

‘Never mind!’ said the King, with an air of great relief. ‘Call the next witness.’ And he added in an undertone to the Queen, ‘Really, my dear, you must cross-examine the next witness. It quite makes my forehead ache!’

Alice watched the White Rabbit as he fumbled over the list, feeling very curious to see what the next witness would be like, ‘—for they haven’t got much evidence yet,’ she said to herself. Imagine her surprise, when the White Rabbit read out, at the top of his shrill little voice, the name ‘Alice!’

#white rabbit #queen of hearts #who stole the tarts #alicesadventuresinwonderland #Alice In Wonderland #chapter 11

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sodawithcereal · 6 years ago

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Part 3: Full House

Part 1 ┃ Part 2

A family of animal lovers alright. They have a stable with goats, chickens and even ducks in the lake. Anyway, Eddie being late caused Mrs. Mason to worry about him. That even though he is a grave keeper he is still a child above all else. Eddie sounds like a broken record at this point and tells her that it’s ok because he likes graves and he is fine. He tells her about the ghost he encountered by the tool shed but mama Mason doesn’t believe in ghosts and tells him to stop saying strange things. She then tells him to go inside the house and to take off the mask.

Eddie being a stubborn little fella, will not listen to his mother and keeps the mask on, he does not seem to mind having it on. That is the official mask of a grave keeper and he is quite proud of it. He gives in and finally takes it off. He forgets to take off his gloves but leaves them on anyway. His gloves have been overused and wonders if he should get new ones. He’s really happy that he was praised for his hard work today and is sure his dad will buy him a new pair. We are now able to walk freely and have the opportunity to explore his room. The bed is not interactive so no sleepy time for Eddie yet. He has a bunch of papers laying around and uses those to study. He also has various books (most likely about graves). The pile of junk to the bottom left are stone samples. There’s not much interaction in the room so we headed out only to find Carl on the hallway.

The doors have the grave keeper mask symbol and name plates right below (is that a thing in the Satsu universe?). There’s also holes on the wall next to the door. Could that room belong to Albert? There’s also an empty bird cage and an owl on top of a shelf. When interacting with Carl, Eddie asks what is wrong and he replies that the owl flew from his cage and will not come down. Even with Eddie calling out to him the owl refuses to leave that spot. Carl says its ok and we are able to leave. Before heading downstairs, I went ahead and checked on the door again (the one with the holes) and it is indeed Albert’s room. He goes on describing that the holes on the wall were caused by Albert’s rampage.

After heading downstairs we can see that Eddie’s house has been turned into a mini Zoo. There’s animals everywhere and I mean everywhere. There’s even multiple squirrels and lizards on the wall. We are greeted by one of the family dogs and energetic George who wants to stay up and play all night. In case you’re wondering, there’s no music here, only the sound of the clock. Almost everything in the room is interactive. The books on the shelf next to the fish tank are (you guessed it) about tombs, ect. According to Eddie, mom and dad’s voices can be heard up ahead. Before heading there, I went to explore the room to the right.

It’s a storage area for the masks & gloves. There’s also an empty animal cage and explosives are neatly placed on the top right shelf. Nothing else to do here so lets move on. Back to the living room, I tried going through the door on the bottom left only find out that it leads outside and mother will get angry if we do so. We are left with no choice but to go through the top right door which leads to the kitchen. There’s seasonings and alcohol on the shelves. Bread for breakfast is already placed on the table smelling nice and delicious. Kitchen utensils and tableware can also be found (it’s a kitchen, duh). Lets eavesdrop on mom and dad, shall we? The topic of conversation is Albert's behavior. Mother is concerned but father tells her not to worry about it. Mother tells him that he should worry after Albert went on a rampage breaking part of the wall next to his room and she starts crying. Father comforts her and tells her not to cry. Albert is a violent person, he has hurt and killed some of the family animals in the past and that hurts mother’s feelings. Father tells her that he is the oldest son and has to take responsibility (he will someday inherit the family business), father will be keeping firm watch over him. Mother seems to have calm down now and father tells her that he has faith in Albert and that he too can be become a great grave keeper.

I gained control of Eddie and try to talk with the Masons only to have father yell at me. Eddie tries to play it off as if he just got there and proceeds to talk about his damaged gloves. Father praises Eddie once more for being a hard worker and that makes him happy. There are gloves that appear to have been passed down from brother to brother. Albert’s gloves have been passed down to Carl (hand me downs) and that Eddie can now have Carl’s gloves. Mother tells him she will make new ones....but not for him. It’s best to receive the ones from Carl. Eddie seems a bit disappointed but gives in and says he will give his to George. Father reminds him that they’re not wealthy people and hopes he understands. All the excitement he felt before vanished after that.

❈ The post is getting too long so I’ll end part 3 here. Eddie’s theme song should be the I’m Fine song (especially during the chorus and Suga’s rap). He says it so many times in the game. Could you blame him though? He just doesn’t want to worry his family. A special thanks to those who support and encouraged me even with my extremely broken Japanese. You guys are awesome and I appreciate every single one of you.

#satsuriku no tenshi #angels of slaughter #satsuten #edward mason #eddie #eddie mini game

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fushigi-no-kuni-no-alice · 4 years ago

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Chapter 11: Who stole the Tarts?

The King and Queen of Hearts were seated on their throne when they arrived, with a great crowd assembled about them—all sorts of little birds and beasts, as well as the whole pack of cards: the Knave was standing before them, in chains, with a soldier on each side to guard him; and near the King was the White Rabbit, with a trumpet in one hand, and a scroll of parchment in the other. In the very middle of the court was a table, with a large dish of tarts upon it: they looked so good, that it made Alice quite hungry to look at them—“I wish they’d get the trial done,” she thought, “and hand round the refreshments!” But there seemed to be no chance of this, so she began looking at everything about her, to pass away the time.

Alice had never been in a court of justice before, but she had read about them in books, and she was quite pleased to find that she knew the name of nearly everything there. “That’s the judge,” she said to herself, “because of his great wig.”

The judge, by the way, was the King; and as he wore his crown over the wig, (look at the picture if you want to see how he did it,) he did not look at all comfortable, and it was certainly not becoming.

“And that’s the jury-box,” thought Alice, “and those twelve creatures,” (she was obliged to say “creatures,” you see, because some of them were animals, and some were birds,) “I suppose they are the jurors.” She said this last word two or three times over to herself, being rather proud of it: for she thought, and rightly too, that very few little girls of her age knew the meaning of it at all. However, “jury-men” would have done just as well.

The twelve jurors were all writing very busily on slates. “What are they doing?” Alice whispered to the Gryphon. “They can’t have anything to put down yet, before the trial’s begun.”

“They’re putting down their names,” the Gryphon whispered in reply, “for fear they should forget them before the end of the trial.”

“Stupid things!” Alice began in a loud, indignant voice, but she stopped hastily, for the White Rabbit cried out, “Silence in the court!” and the King put on his spectacles and looked anxiously round, to make out who was talking.

Alice could see, as well as if she were looking over their shoulders, that all the jurors were writing down “stupid things!” on their slates, and she could even make out that one of them didn’t know how to spell “stupid,” and that he had to ask his neighbour to tell him. “A nice muddle their slates’ll be in before the trial’s over!” thought Alice.

“Herald, read the accusation!” said the King.

On this the White Rabbit blew three blasts on the trumpet, and then unrolled the parchment scroll, and read as follows:—

“The Queen of Hearts, she made some tarts, All on a summer day: The Knave of Hearts, he stole those tarts, And took them quite away!”

“Consider your verdict,” the King said to the jury.

“Not yet, not yet!” the Rabbit hastily interrupted. “There’s a great deal to come before that!”

“Call the first witness,” said the King; and the White Rabbit blew three blasts on the trumpet, and called out, “First witness!”

The first witness was the Hatter. He came in with a teacup in one hand and a piece of bread-and-butter in the other. “I beg pardon, your Majesty,” he began, “for bringing these in: but I hadn’t quite finished my tea when I was sent for.”

“You ought to have finished,” said the King. “When did you begin?”

The Hatter looked at the March Hare, who had followed him into the court, arm-in-arm with the Dormouse. “Fourteenth of March, I think it was,” he said.

“Fifteenth,” said the March Hare.

“Sixteenth,” added the Dormouse.

“Write that down,” the King said to the jury, and the jury eagerly wrote down all three dates on their slates, and then added them up, and reduced the answer to shillings and pence.

“Take off your hat,” the King said to the Hatter.

“It isn’t mine,” said the Hatter.

“Stolen!” the King exclaimed, turning to the jury, who instantly made a memorandum of the fact.

“I keep them to sell,” the Hatter added as an explanation; “I’ve none of my own. I’m a hatter.”

Here the Queen put on her spectacles, and began staring at the Hatter, who turned pale and fidgeted.

“Give your evidence,” said the King; “and don’t be nervous, or I’ll have you executed on the spot.”

“I wish you wouldn’t squeeze so.” said the Dormouse, who was sitting next to her. “I can hardly breathe.”

“I can’t help it,” said Alice very meekly: “I’m growing.”

“You’ve no right to grow here,” said the Dormouse.

“Don’t talk nonsense,” said Alice more boldly: “you know you’re growing too.”

“Yes, but I grow at a reasonable pace,” said the Dormouse: “not in that ridiculous fashion.” And he got up very sulkily and crossed over to the other side of the court.

All this time the Queen had never left off staring at the Hatter, and, just as the Dormouse crossed the court, she said to one of the officers of the court, “Bring me the list of the singers in the last concert!” on which the wretched Hatter trembled so, that he shook both his shoes off.

“Give your evidence,” the King repeated angrily, “or I’ll have you executed, whether you’re nervous or not.”

“I’m a poor man, your Majesty,” the Hatter began, in a trembling voice, “—and I hadn’t begun my tea—not above a week or so—and what with the bread-and-butter getting so thin—and the twinkling of the tea—”

“The twinkling of the what?” said the King.

“It began with the tea,” the Hatter replied.

“Of course twinkling begins with a T!” said the King sharply. “Do you take me for a dunce? Go on!”

“I’m a poor man,” the Hatter went on, “and most things twinkled after that—only the March Hare said—”

“I didn’t!” the March Hare interrupted in a great hurry.

“You did!” said the Hatter.

“I deny it!” said the March Hare.

“He denies it,” said the King: “leave out that part.”

“Well, at any rate, the Dormouse said—” the Hatter went on, looking anxiously round to see if he would deny it too: but the Dormouse denied nothing, being fast asleep.

“After that,” continued the Hatter, “I cut some more bread-and-butter—”

“But what did the Dormouse say?” one of the jury asked.

“That I can’t remember,” said the Hatter.

“You must remember,” remarked the King, “or I’ll have you executed.”

The miserable Hatter dropped his teacup and bread-and-butter, and went down on one knee. “I’m a poor man, your Majesty,” he began.

“You’re a very poor speaker,” said the King.

“I’m glad I’ve seen that done,” thought Alice. “I’ve so often read in the newspapers, at the end of trials, “There was some attempts at applause, which was immediately suppressed by the officers of the court,” and I never understood what it meant till now.”

“If that’s all you know about it, you may stand down,” continued the King.

“I can’t go no lower,” said the Hatter: “I’m on the floor, as it is.”

“Then you may sit down,” the King replied.

Here the other guinea-pig cheered, and was suppressed.

“Come, that finished the guinea-pigs!” thought Alice. “Now we shall get on better.”

“I’d rather finish my tea,” said the Hatter, with an anxious look at the Queen, who was reading the list of singers.

“You may go,” said the King, and the Hatter hurriedly left the court, without even waiting to put his shoes on.

“—and just take his head off outside,” the Queen added to one of the officers: but the Hatter was out of sight before the officer could get to the door.

“Call the next witness!” said the King.

“Give your evidence,” said the King.

“Shan’t,” said the cook.

The King looked anxiously at the White Rabbit, who said in a low voice, “Your Majesty must cross-examine this witness.”

“Well, if I must, I must,” the King said, with a melancholy air, and, after folding his arms and frowning at the cook till his eyes were nearly out of sight, he said in a deep voice, “What are tarts made of?”

“Pepper, mostly,” said the cook.

“Treacle,” said a sleepy voice behind her.

“Collar that Dormouse,” the Queen shrieked out. “Behead that Dormouse! Turn that Dormouse out of court! Suppress him! Pinch him! Off with his whiskers!”

For some minutes the whole court was in confusion, getting the Dormouse turned out, and, by the time they had settled down again, the cook had disappeared.

“Never mind!” said the King, with an air of great relief. “Call the next witness.” And he added in an undertone to the Queen, “Really, my dear, you must cross-examine the next witness. It quite makes my forehead ache!”

Alice watched the White Rabbit as he fumbled over the list, feeling very curious to see what the next witness would be like, “—for they haven’t got much evidence yet,” she said to herself. Imagine her surprise, when the White Rabbit read out, at the top of his shrill little voice, the name “Alice!”

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recentanimenews · 5 years ago

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RECAP: The Crown Game Begins In Tower Of God Episode 3

It's that time again, folks! Let's catch up with Bam, Khun, and Rak in the latest installment of the Tower of God recap series! Things get moving at a breakneck pace in this episode, so strap in and let's get started! And as always, beware of Kami No Tou Episode 3 spoilers ahead.

In the pouring rain, we learn a new princess has been chosen: Maria. But what will happen to Aguero? Apparently, the answer is obvious. Because his sister was not chosen as princess, his entire family will now be dismantled and exiled. Rough stuff! Such is the life of a loser in the race to the top of the Tower. Khun is revealed to have been the brother of the girl not chosen as princess. He was used. He must trust no one. So says his own mother.

Bam interrupts Khun's reminiscing of the past, he's noticed the ceiling is bright in this new level of the Tower... except the ceiling is actually the sky and Rak thinks it's hilarious that Bam has no idea what the sky even is. Bam thinks he's beginning to piece together what this actually means—that Rachel never needed to climb the Tower to see the stars. Except what the Regulars refer to as the sky is just a recreation made of Shinsu, many don't even believe the sky exists at all. After hearing of Rachel's goal to see the stars, Khun begins to question her motives... and her reasons for taking care of little caveman Bam for so long. But what else would you expect from a guy whose own mom taught him to distrust literally everyone? A scream interrupts the two allies' argument, Khun assumes it was a "death cry." Now all the boys can think about is how dangerous the next test might be.

A bizarre contestant with an oddly smooth face offers to give Bam's team a hint about the next test. Using his great intellect, he says he used simple deduction to figure it out: Every team that passes the test does so in five minutes or less. After the team realizes the truth behind this, Bam is grateful, but Khun doesn't trust his competitor's motives, thinking he is using the team to prove his own theory. The helpful stranger warns Khun about the dangers of being too cautious, throwing the blue-haired Regular's family heritage in his face in the process. Khun was abandoned by his family after a terrible betrayal and... that's as far as that story goes. Khun pulls a blade on the stranger, not wanting to hear any more.

Next team enter. Our boys are up. Upon entering the next test, the team is met with a clock, seemingly confirming the stranger—or as Khun refers to him, the Plastic Bag's—theory. But Khun is obviously not convinced. Inside the next area is Yu Han, the Director of this test. Khun seems to recognize the Director as Yu Han informs the group of the rules of their test: Open the correct door. The group will only be allowed to try one door and they must complete the test within ten minutes or face forceful termination.

The group grows angry, feeling they were not given enough information to work with. Bam wonders if this is another test of luck while Khun and Rak demand more clues from Yu Han. Too late. The test has started, the clock is ticking, and the Director insists the group already has all the information they could possibly need. Khun goes into detective mode, attempting to ignore Rak's angry rants and Bam's pleas to work together, choosing instead to focus on the clues and try to deduce the correct strategy.

There are 12 doors, 10 minutes. How does this information organize itself into an answer? Khun questions the clock, why would this be necessary when they have Pockets to tell the time with? He remembers his mother's words: You musn't believe what anyone says. Khun's focus is broken by the haunted whispers of past rumors. Accusations that he and Maria—his half-sister—were a couple. Accusations that Maria was simply using Khun to get ahead in the race to the top. Maria was chosen as a Princess of Zahard, abandoning Khun and his family after her ascension.

Before Khun can come to a conclusion, Rak tires of screaming about the two things he hates most in this world (thinking and needles) and kicks open a random door. Bam is gripped with panic by Rak's thoughtlessness as the clock nears the five-minute mark... and Rak's rash move is a success. The team has passed the test. Curious, Khun asks Rak to explain his choice in doors, but there isn't any real answer. Rak calls it instinct. We might call it random chance.

Yu Han congratulates the group for passing the test. All they really had to do was open a door—any door—within five minutes. Rak is very pleased with his apparent genius while Khun is deflated, left to wonder what the point of such a test might be. Rather than answer his question, the Director inquires about the trauma and distrust Maria caused Khun, showing Khun how badly his doubt and hesitation holds him back.

Bam, Khun, and Rak head out and we see more teams pass the test. The sleepy guy and his group make it through. Ship Leeso and his team pass and Ship gives a pretty comprehensive breakdown of the test and how it works. And the Plastic Bag stranger appears before Yu Han to ask why the Director ordered clues to be given to Bam's team. Yu Han claims this was just an experiment, to see if the hints would help or hurt their performance in the test. Meanwhile, we see a very different Khun as he and his group head to the next location. While Khun does not want to talk about Maria with his teammates, he tells Bam he hopes he does eventually find Rachel and that the two will finally be able to see the stars—together.

Another jump and we see a group of three allies—a giant and hooded blond girl among them—standing in the tall grass, blood splattered all around them. They have passed on to the next test.

This new round of Regulars will be thrown directly into the third test, Administrator Quant decided to speed things up a bit by hosting the first and second tests simultaneously, culling all but the final three allies. Yu Han is not impressed with Quant's liberal interpretation of the test and suggests the "higher-ups" could be quite upset if they found out about what Quant did. Quant begs Yu Han to cover for him and beats a hasty retreat as Yu Han gives a call to Lero-Ro. Before Lero-Ro can answer the call, Yu Han dubs himself a genius... was he secretly behind the mass culling test?

In the next testing area, Bam's group is introduced to Ship Leeso and his teammates after Ship kindly pays for a banana drink for a very thirsty Rak. Ship claims Bam inspires him to make it to the end of the race. If a seemingly ordinary person like Bam can do it, so can Ship Leeso.

Lero-Ro interrupts the two groups' meet-and-greet, the next test is finally ready to begin... the Bonus Test. Lero-Ro promises the Bonus Test is strictly voluntary and will not hurt their chances in future tests if they choose to opt out. However, the winner of the Bonus Test will automatically pass any and all future tests.

The Bonus Test is called the Crown Game. The object is simple: Five teams compete at a time, each attempting to steal the golden crown from the rest. They will have five minutes to do so. Once a member has stolen the crown, they sit in a throne, wearing the crown until the end of the game while their allies fight to defend them from the rest of the teams. Four more teams will attempt to steal the crown from the winning team until all groups have been given a turn. The person wearing the crown must not leave the chair for any reason or every team currently in the room loses the test. Oh, and by the way, the winning team of the mass culling test will just so happen to be sitting in on the Crown Game.

The groups weigh their options, most choose to wait for later rounds, but Anak and Hatsu just want to get this over with. They enter the ring, only one other group bold enough to go first. Anak single-handedly takes out Kon's group with her vine whip, drawing attention to her unusual weapon. While all eyes are on the Lizard Girl and her powerful weapon, Bam's attention is drawn to the Black March, which seems to be vibrating in response to Anak's whip. Nobody seems to notice the hooded blond girl watching the match.

Realizing it's pointless to fight, Kon's group makes a break for the throne, but Anak beats them there. She uses her whip to create a gust of wind, knocking them backward and snatching up the crown herself. She does not intend to let any of the groups take it from her. Bring on the next contestants.

Before the next match can begin, Bam looks up and notices the hooded blond girl slinking around in the arena. He recognizes the figure lurking around: Rachel.

What a wild ride! How did the audience react?

Yess I've been waiting all week!

— inucka (@inuckabe) April 15, 2020

I didn't expect you to start the episode with Khun????????????????????????#TowerOfGod

— im stanning legends | ToG???? (@moonoverland) April 15, 2020

Great episode! Really liked the message that you just have to go with your gut sometimes. Overthinking and overanalysing situations is a waste of time. That contrast between Rak and Khun make them a perfect team

— 黒の剣士 (@Elitealice2) April 15, 2020

The animation in crown game looks amazing!!! Can't wait till the next episode with Lauroe popping off!#TowerOfGod pic.twitter.com/kHk47ovhbb

— 25th Skillam???? (@Skillam_) April 15, 2020

y'all see metapod?#TowerofGod pic.twitter.com/kG5muQe0U9

— Gabᵀᴼᴳ ???? (@kingdomMazino) April 15, 2020

the queen is here #TowerofGod pic.twitter.com/iZSSOPJkL3

— emily???? ꧁???????????? ???????? ???????????????????????????? ꧂ (@flawcatcher) April 15, 2020

Who is this girl? Ghost eyes I shall call her ???? #towerofgod #towerofgodanime #anime #androssi #princessofzahard https://t.co/2WdXyCSN1b

— Kevin Caro (@Kebren91) April 15, 2020

????????????????????????#TowerOfGod pic.twitter.com/ZxaDgZZzTa

— AFB ???? | Tower of God (@_AnimeFanboy) April 15, 2020

Who will win the Crown Game? Is the crown a lie? Why the heck is Rachel slinking around? Tell us your spoiler-free theories in the comments!

READ THE OFFICIAL TOWER OF GOD WEBTOON HERE!

----

Carolyn is on Twitter and Instagram. Follow her maybe?

Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features!

By: [email protected]

#Anime #News #Latest in Anime News by Crunchyroll!

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twilightpony4 · 8 years ago

Text

HomeFront: 39. Touchdown

“Good Afternoon Lady and Delinquents.” Mona and Michelangelo lifted up their heads to the sound of Vern’s “smooth pilot voice’ over the intercom. Mikey had just slipped his headphones to rest on his shoulders just when he heard Don whisper “that’s not funny” next to him. Vern recomposed himself. “We’re now about to land in open field a.k.a. The trainer lady’s backyard. We shall be out of here very quickly so strap back up.” he advised before taking his finger off the button. Mona reached to her side to re-strap herself since they took off. In the meantime, she took a peek at Raphael. The lug was still knocked out from before. That is, Mona had to keep making sure that he was okay and not in some type of coma. He was stuffed up tight in the seat belt, head lulled to the other side of his body; movement that determined he was indeed alright. The landing was just as fun as the take-off to Michelangelo. The same invisible force that excited and pumped his adrenaline revisited him as they came down from the sky. He could feel his stomach turn upside down and place a hitch in his breath until the ground came in perspective and he could see the grass blades move and the tall bamboo and trees pass by. Every thirty seconds you could see and feel the plane slow down as it approached a humble home near the end of the open field. Although not exact, the aircraft came to a slow stop near the back porch. “Thank you for riding Air Mutant, the plane you fly against your will because you got involved.” There was some shuffling around. “Vern. I thought cameramen were supposed to be quiet on the set.” “Yeah, well, I decided to be a hero instead.” “Under us, you mean?” “I just dug a hole, didn’t I?” “And it keeps getting bigger. Your finger’s still on the button.” “Disregard that last announcement.” The two conscious passengers rolled their eyes and groaned a the idiotic ways of their pilot. However did they trust this guy to fly them across seas? A while later, the front door to their seating opened. Ducking under the entryway was Donnie himself. A sweet smile sweeped onto his lips when he saw his siblings for the first time in a couple of hours. “How was the flight?” He asked enthusiastically. Surely he didn’t do much of the flying up there, but it was always nice to get an opinion for the smallest of accomplishments. Mikey unbuckled his seatbelt first. With a single move, his left leg crossed over and rested at the top of his right thigh. His facial expression tightened, letting his mouth drop towards his chin with a sleepy look in his closed eyes. Neatly, his hands intertwined and rested on his lap. “I was promised peanuts and an in-flight movie.” he complained comedically, overtaking a snooty persona. Don could only frown, in which Mona only shook her head at the silly turtle. So much for a compliment. Suddenly, a loud, short snort got their attention when a turtle in the back jumped up in his seat. “Where are we?! What happened?!” Raphael woke with a start. By the way his body jolted with flared arms, it almost knocked Mona out of the seat. His eyes were wide in confusion. “Yippee. Raph’s awake.” Donatello spoke sarcastically in monotone as he leaned over to pick up a bag sitting in a vacant seat. He was still peeved about earlier. The heaving turtle clutched whatever he could find in close proximity. Claustrophobia began to set back in, clouding his head. If it couldn’t get any worse, Michelangelo decided to give him a heart attack by popping up in the seat in front of him. The young turtle was oblivious to his older brother’s antics as he carried on, slouching over the top of the seats with his arms hanging low. “What's wrong with you dude? You were out all night and the fun ride up!” He beamed while whining all the same since he can’t relate the rush of flying with the brother he was normally down to do things with. Wait. The fun ride up? Did Raph hear him right? Immediately, he looked out the window. Nothing looked familiar. Tall grasses ranging from yellow to green replaced the usual asphalt that lie on the ground, swaying with any giving whisp of wind. Tall buildings were replaced with more eco-friendly trees of a whole different breed. Did he really just fly? Omg, he just flew in a plane. “We�� We’re not in Kansas anymore.” He whispered breathlessly. The heat of his mouth escaped as a fog on the window for his face was pretty much glued to it. “Or America.” Vern commented as he exited from the same door Donatello came through. “Welcome to China.” He said with a smile as he turned to open up the plane door. Instantly, the hot sun beamed on his face. He had to use an arm to block out its rays, but the heat could not be avoided. Face contorted, he took a step out to get a feel for the new land. Surely, he had visited the country before, but only when something awful had happened and he was sent over to cover it. From first impressions, he was not sure that he was in the right country given that all he’d ever seen was decimated, dark, and smoggy. Out here in the mountains, the sky and air was as crystal clear as the waters he’d flown over. Vern took this moment to take it all in before the mutant children would descend from the aircraft and ruin his relaxation. Inside, the young mutants were either grabbing something or putting things back in their bags to leave on the plane. Still seated, Raphael was beginning to come to terms of what had happened. Mona had sat there with him to assure him and make sure that he wouldn’t give himself away as he slowly remembered the last item that had happened that he could remember. “You.” He growled. Mona appeared smug with a smile and half-lidded eyes that looked knowingly into his own. Raph kept his tight appearance with pursed lips and a claw-finger pointed at her “You!” “I know, I was so scared!” She laughed nervously. Raph was taken aback at her approach. Next, she took both of her hands and wrapped them genuinely around one of his. “Thank you so much for helping me with my fear.” every two words delivered a light shake in his arm, trying to prove how incredibly thankful she was, even though it was a lie. Sadly, Raphael wasn’t catching on. “Wh- b-b-but I.” he stuttered. Man, today wasn’t his day. Nothing was making sense. To ease him, and keep him from giving himself up, she repeated: “Thank you for helping me with my fear.” A little more firm now that neither of the other were paying attention to them anymore. “You know, the one of plane rides.” The last two words were engraved in her teeth. As she said them, her eyes widened a little more, forcing them onto him to pressure him into getting it. The actions she performed worked to a degree. Without questioning it, he just went along with it. “Suuuure.” His brow raised at the same slow pace that he leaned back to the window, withdrawing his hand from her grip. Not quite the reaction or level of understanding she was hoping, but at least he kept it vague. A quick nd of her head gave him her approval. “C’mon guys! We need to get to Miwa’s.” she announced. Mikey jumped out of his seat. Both fists waved in the air as he jogged towards the front of the plane. “Yeah! Let's go to Miha’s!” he yelled. As he ran out, his shoulder bumped into Donatello’s. The blow pushed his brother back, but didn’t deter him own path. The stout brother scowled, rubbing his shoulder. “She said ‘Miwa’.” He corrected sourly out the door. The orange banded turtle gripped the side of the door and peeked back in. “Mida, Miwawa, Mimi Pee pee!” he played with the words, annoying the taller brother even more. “Let's roll!” That last part hurt his hearing. The younger turtle escaped before Donnie could try to get him back. He held his hands to his ears and cringed when he stepped off the aircraft. With the plane empty, only the two mutants who sat together remained. Surely, the rest were waiting for them and would surely pop their heads back in and say something that may give him another headache. Rapj was planning on getting up until Mona Lisa stopped him. Her hand pressed down on him. It was barely a touch, but it kept him from rising, much like how a mother thinks that her outstretched hand could save her child in the passenger seat if she were to slam hard on the breaks. Then, she placed a hand on the side of his face. The sudden gesture forced him to look willingly into her eyes, just as she wanted. “Just go with it, ok?” She asked. Without any further explanation or a reply, the lizard girl smoothly removed her seatbelt and trotted out of the vehicle. Raphael sat astonished, still tucked under his own belt with his large body against the wall of the plane, thinking: what the shell just happened? “Is this Miwawa’s house?” Raphael was shuffling down the plane’s stairs to catch the remark from Michelangelo. When his bare feet touched the grasses, he looked up. The orange banded turtle pointed gingerly at the dark colored building. It was somewhat impressive, given its appearance next to the other dirt-like buildings surrounding it. “It's a Wu Kwan, but yes.” Mona clarified. “Hold on.” Vern turned and trotted back towards the aircraft. “I forgot some things to turn off. Go on ahead.” A body was slouched down in a chair on the back of the porch. The closer you got, the more you realized that this guy was all robe and no body. Just a head that decided to hide underneath a straw hat. His age reflected upon his tanned face, which pulled down his brow to his eyes and his jowls halfway down his neck. The guys stopped short, letting Mona take the lead to ascend up the porch steps. “I was wondering why nobody came outside the house!” She spoke cheerfully. The man was silent, continuing to stare at her as she came closer. He got up from his position and approached the happy lizard lady. “Hello, Ancient One!” Name fits. “You and Venus! Americanized!” It was the first time they heard the man speak. Ugh, his voice sounded like it belonged to a chalkboard. They bared so much as they refrained from getting any closer once they reached the top of the porch. “Excuse me?” She asked rather confused, looking behind herself as the old man inspected her wears. “Is-is this…” he grabbed the hem of the cut side of her pants. “This your dress Chung I gave you. You cut it up; I will punch you in the throat!” Instead of just letting go, he threw it down with his hand in a sassy fashion and then presumed to grab the trail of cloth behind her. “It was too small, Ancient One.” She tried to make it clear to the oblivious man. “You cut out stomach and shoulder!” He pointed to both areas. Mona looked down for a brief second then looked back at the upset face scowling at her. “So conservative.” She sneered. By the way she was handling it, it appeared that this man was idly a threat (of course his appearance gave that away too), making them a little more comfortable with this confrontation. Even comfortable enough for Mikey to not stifle a laugh. This was priceless how serious this little man was and Mona was just brushing him off, making him even more upset. The change in voice caught the man’s attention and forgot about the girl’s outfit. Now, his eyes criticized the three mutant turtles who smiled weakly and waved nervously back at him. “Who deez boys here?” He pointed; Mona turned around. “More green monkeys for me to train? I won't have it!” “Whoa there, little man.” Raph snickered, putting his hands up in mock defeat. He exchanged playful glances all around as they approved and enjoyed his game. “I only little because you is a beastie thing.” The Ancient One pursed his lips and grabbed the bottom hem of his robe. Confidently, he advanced towards the taunting, red clad turtle. “Look just as trashy as Leonardo-san.” He was referring to the rags that wrapped down the back of his legs. Not only was he also cloaked in scraps, but he couldn't help but notice the cracks and blackened scars all over that contrasted against his green skin “Don't any of you win fights?” “You wanna go right now?” Raphael muttered under his breath, although he kept he hands to himself despite of his usual nature. Donnie put a hand on his shoulder as a way to tell him to stop before it could even begin to get out of hand. The Ancient One then moved over to Michelangelo, silently judging him as he always does. The young turtle took a deep breath and recollected himself. Stiff, head and chest up in the air, she stood like a soldier as his sergeant searched for blemishes. Mona stepped in before he could anime least insult anybody else as a form of training (they always did this when obtaining new recruits ((even so, the Ancient One was always honest despite Miwa’s agreeing words but opposing thoughts))). “They're not here to train.” That sentence brought him back. Whew! No more new students! He'd hate to go through something like Leonardo four times over. “We know what Venus is up to. Well, not really but-.” “I thought I heard a familiar voice.” Everybody looked up to the woman in the doorway. She ducked her head to watch her step. When she looked up, the boys took notice of her sharp and edgy makeup choice completely compelled by her warm affections. “Miwa!” The lizard lady exclaimed. With a matched enthusiasm, the woman returned her hug incredibly. Mona was so tall that she had to reach and stand on the tips of her toes. “Mona Lisa! How have you been?” They let go. Briefly, she overlooked her growing girl. “Is this you back to fighting, I see?” She asked, quite astonished at her growth. Mona curtsied playfully and gave her a spin. “Look at those abdominals!” She prodded the hard muscle with a finger. Mona doubled back, tickled by her touch but very much appreciative. “Glad to see someone likes them.” She uttered to the small man behind her. The Ancient One folded his arms with a stubborn “humph!” A giggle was shared between the two women. “And who are these gentlemen here with you?” She asked, although she could clearly see. “Brothers of Leonardo I assume?” Miwa approached them in a welcomed manner, unlike that old man. “Hey! How’d you know?” Michelangelo joked in a cheerful manner. “My name’s Mikey!” “Michelangelo, yes.” She outstretched her hand. The eager turtle took it and shook it in quick, almost violent jolts. All of a sudden, her eyes looked confused and unsure, lifting her chin up as she thought. “He doesn't look like chaos with baby eyes.” She joked. Although funny to everyone else, his smile vanished now he knew how Leo and maybe even Venus had described him. Typical. “Raphael.” He took a step forward, cueing Mikey to break from her grip. This shake was barely a shake; a hand grab if you will. “Pretty sure I've come up enough times.” It sounded as if he’d said this phrase many times before. “Indeed.” Her eyes narrowed. Raph knew that look very well, hence, he let go and allowed Donnie in. He was so cheerful, showing off that dorky smile of his. “Donatello, pleased to meet you ma'am.” He reached out, returning a firm shake. The end of the grip lightened up, as well as her face. “Ah! The wonderful friend of my dear Venus. I've heard great things about you.” She beamed. By surprise, the turtle blushed some. “Oh, I didn't know I'd make it to the dinner conversation.” A nervous chuckle escaped from his throat as he reached to the back of his head to rub it with the hand he offered. Mona took a step in between them. Just the extent of her leg parted the two with a step or two back. “I know we're being all nice and revisiting each other, but can we please skip the formalities?” She asked, exchanging looks with the two visiting parties with her hands offering a change in conversation. Both were passive to the notion by their easy expressions. “Where's Leo and Venus and what's going on?” “And how can we help?” Raphael added, walking up behind Mona and gingerly resting both of his hands atop her shoulders. The sudden weight pushed down on her, but his hands were warm, so she’ll keep him for a while longer. The japanese woman tapped her finger against her chin. “They left maybe an hour ago? They're both wearing mèilì mèilì and left for Mei mei’s for a disguise to a party at this location.” A piece of paper slipped out from the band of her black sweatpants. She unfolded it; the crinkle and scraping of the paper made them ever more curious as she opened it. Low and behold, the chinese characters that withheld information her own sister withheld. Raphael tried to read it along with Mona, but once he realized it was in characters, he left it to her. Both of her eyes zeroed in, reading carefully and accurately. “We don't have a magician to come up with mèilì mèilì…” She noted while reading the rest of the details. Then, the paper began to relax, caving in for Miwa was beginning to close it back up. “That's where you're wrong. The Ancient One dabbles in magic.” “Really?” A surprised attitude and brow rose from the lizard lady. Slowly, the green children averted their gaze simultaneously to the grumpy old man. He found himself back in his chair, lounging as he had been. His tipped hat covered the latter of his face and hid his hands in his long sleeves. “Since when did you get into magic arts?” She placed her hands on her hips. She approached him, swinging her hips sassily until she could kneel at his feet. With her presence, he used a thumb to push up his hat. The way set was sitting, his cheeks rose up to his eyes, squishing them. “I was trained by the Tribunal. What can I not do?” The first smile she’s seen since they first arrived shown upon his thin lips. “I'll help you He brought his hands together to let his spread out fingers touch their opposite. “for the right price.” All of a sudden, the youngest of them all got down on his knees. “What do you need, man?!” He whined. Then, he chose to approach him by travelling by knee. Donatello grew embarrassed of his display and had to look away. Raphael scowled, shaking his head in a dissapointed fashion. Was he really doing this? Now? In front of two ninjutsu masters, he going to choose to act like a dork? “We live underground, we broke, you know when they say ‘started from the bottom, now we here’?” He was now by his feet, next the the lizard lady who was shying away from him. “We live under them!” His hands reached out to grab the end of his robe. “And we're still at that level! Have a heart, old dude!” He pleaded, grovelling at this old kook’s feet. “Mikey, shhhh…” A webbed finger brushed his lips. The tingling of their touch quieted him, just as she had wanted. His pleading eyes looked to Mona, who appeared calm and understanding. They assured him that everything was going to be okay. “We’ll bring leftovers back.” she answered the question correctly back to the old man. “Don't forget any sugar!” He warned, stressing the subject. Mona gave a quick nod and stood up. Mikey hastily stood, brushing himself off and trying to play it cool after that little episode. Just as Venus’ would, an aura began to form around his hands. The light green magic engulfed his hands as he toyed with its properties. “Magic ugly shape shifters coming up!” he called. Donatello sneakily leaned towards Raphael’s direction. “Did he just call us ugly?” he whispered for his ears only. Raph leaned towards him as well to blow off a little steam. “I know he's old, but I'm about this close to whoopin’ his a**.” He gave an example with his fingers. Mona placed a hand on his shoulder as a reminder to calm down. “Thank you.” her voice was even and fluid as the Ancient One began to work his magic for them. There was little time to waste. There was not enough time to reminisce in the new surrounding or to see their new forms after they were donned with mèilì mèilì. They could only trust they looked different in the eyes of Miwa and the Ancient one. Then again, they could just be toying with them. The boys don’t know them at all, so who’s to say that they were being truthful. The only real test was one of Donnie’s favorites: a field test. Walking around in broad daylight and meeting people that weren’t afraid of them was weird enough. Now, walking through a village was the ultimate test of keeping one’s cool as eyes curiously viewed them as they passed by. Mona led the group, allowing Michelangelo hold her hand like a child holding onto his mother as they passed through. He was hunkered down, shielding himself behind Donatello and Raphael at his sides. Donnie made sure that he wasn't making any eye contact, but he was also tempted to take in the new surroundings ad embrace their culture through memory. Raphael, on the other hand, kept his usual scowl, growling to himself as a coping mechanism for the prying eyes. Granted, they were expectant of this type of treatment, only they imagined a lot more screaming and running away in terror. Instead, it was pure curiosity. Numerously, they had to remind themselves that even though they can see their own green flesh, the people saw something else. Even if they were made to look human, they have no idea how they look. Their only saving grace was a reflection, but they were unable to find one as they approached a humble shop with clothing in the window. “(Mei Mei!)” Mona called as she pushed open the door and peeked inside the colorful shop. The shy boys filed in directly behind her. Michelangelo let her hand go and allowed his eyes to explore. The shop owner was at her desk. It looked like she was folding at sorting at the sight. With customers at the door, she dropped what she was doing. “(Yes, may I help you..?)” she asked distantly for she was called by name. She couldn’t place a finger on knowing this white girl in pink who addressed her. Light Skinned, well muscled, and tall, surely she would know who this woman was. Mona strode forward, quite happy. Sadly, her friend could not recognize her with voice alone. “(It's Mona.)” She replied enthusiastically, bouncing with her confession. Instantaneously, her slitted eyes grew wide in disbelief and excitement. It didn’t take long for the girl to reach up and hold her dear friend tight. “(You just missed your sister)” she spoke in her ear, hugging her tighter. “(and that gorgeous looking boy he brought in….)” Her words trailed off as she saw the three hunks standing behind her. They looked a little like Leonardo, starting with the same brown hair color and half-nude styles. Just as they did the Ancient One, they waved nervously at her due to her expression of surprise as she gazed upon them. Mona could feel her face tense up and released her grip on her. Mei Mei couldn’t keep her eyes off them as she stared at the three boys. “(More turtles or…?)” she pointed a ginger finger at them. There were more of them? What is this beautiful country of America where a turtle could be so hot? “(Yeah, these are Leonardo’s brothers.)” Mona introduced. “Everybody, this is Mei Mei.” She placed her hands on the small girl’s shoulders and pushed her gently forward. “Oh, ohayou wasabi.” Donatello came forward first. Mei Mei giggled at the spiky haired boy with glasses as he bowed before her. “Hello mustard?” Raphael quizzed, pulling him back up from his gesture. “Did I say it wrong?” He muttered quite puzzled and unsure. “She's Chinese, you asked in Japanese, idiot!” “Sorry for trying to show some courtesy!” He spat back. The red banded turtle shook his head and put a hand up to silence the nerd. This one was darkest in pigment. He hid his hair underneath that oddly styled mask and donned numerous scars on his body, including the dark brown one that split his upper lip. Cocking his head to one side, he took a confident sniff before speaking. “Ni Hao.” He responded correctly. Unforeseen, a look of alarm took over, widening his eyes and drawing a blank. “Kai-Lan.” he added. That wasn’t right, wasn’t it? Mei Mei sure showed it as she looked on with bewilderment. “Kung Hay Fat Choy?” Donatello added, hoping that it was an appropriate phrase he has heard a handful of times. “That's Chinese, right?” He asked. Michelangelo pushed the two brothers behind him. By that look on his face, he was ready to show them how it’s done. Those half lidded eyes, followed by a suave gesture intrigued Mei Mei as the smallest one with the brown freckles and tattoos was ready to spit game at her. “Kung Fu, Chow Mein, Fortune Cookie. Panda Express, Mulan.” he listed just random hullabaloo, but the smooth and confident way he said it forced her to fan herself. Before he could continue, Mona cut him off with an arm to the chest. “I think she gets it Mikey.” she held him back with an annoyed look. He could only drop into an extended frown and an “I don’t know” shrug. “Why don’t you leave the talking to me?” She regarded that to the rest of the gang. Unable to find the right language or phrases, it was in everyone’s best interest that the english speakers speak english and the chinese speak to the chinese (language discrimination?). “(Can you hook us up with some wardrobe?)” She asked in her second tongue. Immediately, a smile plastered onto the finely dressed girl. “(Today’s my luckiest day!)” Her voice squeaked in excitement. Mona shook her head, just as Venus knew, she knew who she was talking to. Normally, she’d probably join her or something if it were a different group of boys, but she had a mission to accomplish, and fast! Mei Mei went down the line of three boys. Each one dealt with her seeking eyes as she looked at every single feature, ranging from awkward shyness to trying to show off, giving her a laugh. “(As much as I want to get my hands on them, I simply don't have enough time to get all four of you ready and on time for the party.)” She answered honestly. It took her a while to get Leonardo ready, which took a lot longer than getting Venus done (backwards, isn’t it?). “(We really need your help. I fear Venus and Leo are going to get into a lot of trouble.)” Mona explained desperately. It has almost been a hour since they landed, meaning they were possibly in an hour’s worth of trouble that they could possibly prevent if they got there as soon as possible. “(I think I've got something, but you all have to wear it.)” “(What do you have in mind?)”

#tmnt #tmntfanfiction #tmntmonalisa #tmntraphael #tmntmichelangelo #tmntdonatello #homefront #tmntvern

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readbookywooks · 8 years ago

Text

Who Stole the Tarts?

The King and Queen of Hearts were seated on their throne when they arrived, with a great crowd assembled about them--all sorts of little birds and beasts, as well as the whole pack of cards: the Knave was standing before them, in chains, with a soldier on each side to guard him; and near the King was the White Rabbit, with a trumpet in one hand, and a scroll of parchment in the other. In the very middle of the court was a table, with a large dish of tarts upon it: they looked so good, that it made Alice quite hungry to look at them--`I wish they'd get the trial done,' she thought, `and hand round the refreshments!' But there seemed to be no chance of this, so she began looking at everything about her, to pass away the time.

Alice had never been in a court of justice before, but she had read about them in books, and she was quite pleased to find that she knew the name of nearly everything there. `That's the judge,' she said to herself, `because of his great wig.'

`And that's the jury-box,' thought Alice, `and those twelve creatures,' (she was obliged to say `creatures,' you see, because some of them were animals, and some were birds,) `I suppose they are the jurors.' She said this last word two or three times over to herself, being rather proud of it: for she thought, and rightly too, that very few little girls of her age knew the meaning of it at all. However, `jury-men' would have done just as well.

The twelve jurors were all writing very busily on slates. `What are they doing?' Alice whispered to the Gryphon. `They can't have anything to put down yet, before the trial's begun.'

`They're putting down their names,' the Gryphon whispered in reply, `for fear they should forget them before the end of the trial.'

`Stupid things!' Alice began in a loud, indignant voice, but she stopped hastily, for the White Rabbit cried out, `Silence in the court!' and the King put on his spectacles and looked anxiously round, to make out who was talking.

Alice could see, as well as if she were looking over their shoulders, that all the jurors were writing down `stupid things!' on their slates, and she could even make out that one of them didn't know how to spell `stupid,' and that he had to ask his neighbour to tell him. `A nice muddle their slates'll be in before the trial's over!' thought Alice.

`Herald, read the accusation!' said the King.

On this the White Rabbit blew three blasts on the trumpet, and then unrolled the parchment scroll, and read as follows:--

`The Queen of Hearts, she made some tarts, All on a summer day: The Knave of Hearts, he stole those tarts, And took them quite away!'

`Consider your verdict,' the King said to the jury.

`Not yet, not yet!' the Rabbit hastily interrupted. `There's a great deal to come before that!'

`Call the first witness,' said the King; and the White Rabbit blew three blasts on the trumpet, and called out, `First witness!'

The first witness was the Hatter. He came in with a teacup in one hand and a piece of bread-and-butter in the other. `I beg pardon, your Majesty,' he began, `for bringing these in: but I hadn't quite finished my tea when I was sent for.'

`You ought to have finished,' said the King. `When did you begin?'

The Hatter looked at the March Hare, who had followed him into the court, arm-in-arm with the Dormouse. `Fourteenth of March, I think it was,' he said.

`Fifteenth,' said the March Hare.

`Sixteenth,' added the Dormouse.

`Write that down,' the King said to the jury, and the jury eagerly wrote down all three dates on their slates, and then added them up, and reduced the answer to shillings and pence.

`Take off your hat,' the King said to the Hatter.

`It isn't mine,' said the Hatter.

`Stolen!' the King exclaimed, turning to the jury, who instantly made a memorandum of the fact.

`I keep them to sell,' the Hatter added as an explanation; `I've none of my own. I'm a hatter.'

Here the Queen put on her spectacles, and began staring at the Hatter, who turned pale and fidgeted.

`Give your evidence,' said the King; `and don't be nervous, or I'll have you executed on the spot.'

`I wish you wouldn't squeeze so.' said the Dormouse, who was sitting next to her. `I can hardly breathe.'

`I can't help it,' said Alice very meekly: `I'm growing.'

`You've no right to grow here,' said the Dormouse.

`Don't talk nonsense,' said Alice more boldly: `you know you're growing too.'

`Yes, but I grow at a reasonable pace,' said the Dormouse: `not in that ridiculous fashion.' And he got up very sulkily and crossed over to the other side of the court.

All this time the Queen had never left off staring at the Hatter, and, just as the Dormouse crossed the court, she said to one of the officers of the court, `Bring me the list of the singers in the last concert!' on which the wretched Hatter trembled so, that he shook both his shoes off.

`Give your evidence,' the King repeated angrily, `or I'll have you executed, whether you're nervous or not.'

`I'm a poor man, your Majesty,' the Hatter began, in a trembling voice, `--and I hadn't begun my tea--not above a week or so--and what with the bread-and-butter getting so thin--and the twinkling of the tea--'

`The twinkling of the what?' said the King.

`It began with the tea,' the Hatter replied.

`Of course twinkling begins with a T!' said the King sharply. `Do you take me for a dunce? Go on!'

`I'm a poor man,' the Hatter went on, `and most things twinkled after that--only the March Hare said--'

`I didn't!' the March Hare interrupted in a great hurry.

`You did!' said the Hatter.

`I deny it!' said the March Hare.

`He denies it,' said the King: `leave out that part.'

`Well, at any rate, the Dormouse said--' the Hatter went on, looking anxiously round to see if he would deny it too: but the Dormouse denied nothing, being fast asleep.

`After that,' continued the Hatter, `I cut some more bread- and-butter--'

`But what did the Dormouse say?' one of the jury asked.

`That I can't remember,' said the Hatter.

`You MUST remember,' remarked the King, `or I'll have you executed.'

The miserable Hatter dropped his teacup and bread-and-butter, and went down on one knee. `I'm a poor man, your Majesty,' he began.

`You're a very poor speaker,' said the King.

`I'm glad I've seen that done,' thought Alice. `I've so often read in the newspapers, at the end of trials, "There was some attempts at applause, which was immediately suppressed by the officers of the court," and I never understood what it meant till now.'

`If that's all you know about it, you may stand down,' continued the King.

`I can't go no lower,' said the Hatter: `I'm on the floor, as it is.'

`Then you may SIT down,' the King replied.

Here the other guinea-pig cheered, and was suppressed.

`Come, that finished the guinea-pigs!' thought Alice. `Now we shall get on better.'

`I'd rather finish my tea,' said the Hatter, with an anxious look at the Queen, who was reading the list of singers.

`You may go,' said the King, and the Hatter hurriedly left the court, without even waiting to put his shoes on.

`--and just take his head off outside,' the Queen added to one of the officers: but the Hatter was out of sight before the officer could get to the door.

`Call the next witness!' said the King.

The next witness was the Duchess's cook. She carried the pepper-box in her hand, and Alice guessed who it was, even before she got into the court, by the way the people near the door began sneezing all at once.

`Give your evidence,' said the King.

`Shan't,' said the cook.

The King looked anxiously at the White Rabbit, who said in a low voice, `Your Majesty must cross-examine THIS witness.'

`Well, if I must, I must,' the King said, with a melancholy air, and, after folding his arms and frowning at the cook till his eyes were nearly out of sight, he said in a deep voice, `What are tarts made of?'

`Pepper, mostly,' said the cook.

`Treacle,' said a sleepy voice behind her.

`Collar that Dormouse,' the Queen shrieked out. `Behead that Dormouse! Turn that Dormouse out of court! Suppress him! Pinch him! Off with his whiskers!'

For some minutes the whole court was in confusion, getting the Dormouse turned out, and, by the time they had settled down again, the cook had disappeared.

`Never mind!' said the King, with an air of great relief. `Call the next witness.' And he added in an undertone to the Queen, `Really, my dear, YOU must cross-examine the next witness. It quite makes my forehead ache!'

Alice watched the White Rabbit as he fumbled over the list, feeling very curious to see what the next witness would be like, `--for they haven't got much evidence YET,' she said to herself. Imagine her surprise, when the White Rabbit read out, at the top of his shrill little voice, the name `Alice!'

#AliceinWonderland

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