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docholligay · 4 years

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Animation Winner and BEST SAILOR MOON ANGST

Anyway, without further ado, the winner for Animation Day of Eight Days is:

A PLACE FURTHER THAN THE UNIVERSE

Which actually had a pretty decent margin over the second-place winner, Rose of Versailles.

And now, the finest artisanal Angsty Sailor Moon Headcanons, FOR ENTRIES.

Pluto-It’s hard to get close to people when you know everything they will do, but nothing about how they will feel. There’s always the feeling that everything you do is kinda pointless, because you know what will happen to them and don’t know if what you do will change it, for good or bad. You can just withdraw from everyone to the gates of time and do your duty, but then you feel like you are missing chances to make other people or yourself happy. Trying to make friends with people you don’t know everything about is weird after knowing everything that will happen to everyone else, but you have to push through and hope for the best. You talked to usage about this and she suggested you get a pet, because “ they will defiantly love you if you are nice to them!”. So now it’s just you and Cheddar, that big orange idiot cat you saw in the shelter that the staff said was very loving, if he learned to trust you, in a small apartment above a laundromat. --- BeefSalad33 (Love some PLuto angst!)

Sometimes, Makoto has to take a break from having her friends drop by for dinners or snacks or anything else. She leaves her door locked, pretends she's not home, and does what she can to pretend she's normal when she has to be at school or work. It's both everybody's and no one's fault.

When they stay too late into the night and all pass out before skittering away one by one in the morning. When a monster attacks just as everyone's halfway through their meal, and all feel too drained to go back to a party after the fight. When someone had a tantrum and killed the buzz- often early on, not so much after a few months but never *never* happening. Those times, Mako came back to an empty apartment, messy with life, and fear, dread, anger, emptiness all flooded over her.

She'd be that little girl again, pulled from class. Putting things in order for family to come over, not really knowing why, all by herself. Watching practical strangers, known only to her blood, go through the papers her mother carefully kept. Arguing with those strangers over if her father's weird travel keepsakes could be sold, not being able to say why except by a stomp of her foot and "It's ours! It belongs here!" She'd be that small girl, alone, tired, fumbling through things she'd half-watched her mother do when she wasn't parroting the heroes on tv.

She'd be abandoned.

So Mako took a week, a couple days, once it was a mere lucky hour, to wallow in it like she wouldn't let herself do anything else. She'd be that girl, for a time, and then come back to herself when the seventh knock on her door that day became a reminder: she wasn't abandoned. Her friends would come back.

She just had to get ready for them. --- @katrani (I don’t really get into Mako--not out of dislike, just, I don’t, but this was GREAT)

Sailor Senshi: since the beginning of time, the Senshi have always given their entire life and soul to their service. When a Senshi dies (regardless whether in battle or of old age), their soul/essence/power is absorbed into the power of that Senshi. When the next person takes up the mantle, they are slightly stronger than the previous incarnation. Even Pluto, eternal Sentinel, has no idea how many previous versions of Pluto had previously held the post and now reside in her staff to power her. Michiru alone has a premonition of this fate, and she is never quite sure if it is kindness or cruelty to not tell Haruka of their eventual fate. --- @amberlilly (mmmmmmmm love and find delicious when they cannot escape the moon even in death FEED ME)

MAS, when Haruka is at her worst, determined to walk again and hurting herself in the process, spiraling, not being there for the kid she always wanted, convinced she has no life or worth without her legs and speed and 'independence,' as Michiru seriously begins to consider and draw up paperwork for a divorce, she dreams of that first battle. Michiru Wanting and Deciding that she deserves as least a companion in the hot butch who she doesn't realize she'll come to love so much. Fate would allow her this small pleasure. She remembers tipping the scales and forcing Haruka's hand with the transformation ring, sealing a fate she needn't have ever had to have. Michiru wakes up crying. She thinks maybe bc of all this it would be selfish to divorce now even though during better moments she knows it's best for M.A. But to escape the pain of watching the person she chained to her fate suffer under its weight. Well she might still be that selfish creature and leave Haruka instead of bear witness. --- @thoughtfulfangirling (This is ALMOST cheating, but this is my x2 points winner, as believe it or not, I have never connected everything that goes wrong in MaS with the idea that MIchiru manipulated Haruka into taking on the mantle of Senshi. INCREDIBLE! ACE HIGH!)

Mina understands swords. She can wield a rapier, or a broadsword, or a stone greatsword as if it is an extension of her arm. She has an instinctive feel for when to slice, when to hack, and when to stab. She weighs up her enemy's strengths and weaknesses and reaches for the correct tool without even looking. But when you are a hammer, everything becomes a nail; when you are a general, everyone becomes a sword. Mako is a claymore, heavy, unsubtle, made to do heavy damage. Michiru is a dagger, secretly fatal, poison tipped. Rei is a katana, elegant, swift, light. Ami is a rapier, precise, strategic. And Haruka. She had been unsure of Haruka, but when she saw the still body and the glowing sword above it, she knew it could never have been anything else. Haruka is a curved saber. Slicing rapidly through the enemy, always on the move. Minako knows that no matter how fond of a weapon she is, she cannot use it gently, or hesitate to break it, or leave it behind, if necessary. And Minako always knows which sword is best for any battle. And when you are a general, everyone is a sword. ---- @incorrecttact (This almost got a pass from me for not angsty until I saw the bit about Minako being fond of a weapon but having to willing to break it or leave it behind and YES)

THANK YOU ALL FOR MAKING MY PAPERWORK MORE FUN

#names for thing

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mst3kproject · 5 years

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622: Angels Revenge

I would pay folding money for a half-hour gag reel of all the times Mike swung too hard or in the wrong direction or the wind was wrong and he took off Crow’s head. It had to happen at least twice. MST3K was not known for the sturdiness or sophistication of their props and we love them for it.

A fourteen-year-old boy steals some stuff from a drug dealer who looks an awful lot like Ben Murphy. In revenge, Fake Ben Murphy and Actual Jack Palance beat the shit out of him. This upsets both the kid’s sister, an up-and-coming musician, and his schoolteacher, and they hatch a plot to destroy the drug depot. They recruit a few friends – a Hollywood stuntwoman, a karate teacher, a model, a cop, and one of the teacher’s students – and steal some ammo from a bunch of neo-Nazis, and then it’s on to beat up the druggies!

I guess the idea behind this movie is fairly sound – a group of women get together to do a job the men aren’t willing to do. The question of just why the men aren’t willing to do it is an open one. Do the drug dealers own the police or something? I dunno. At the time it came out, Angels Revenge was panned as a ripoff of Charlie’s Angels, which it most unquestionably is, but there’s a reason that was a successful formula: women enjoy movies in which women kick ass, and men enjoy looking at boobs. In the right hands, it would still have been a ripoff, but it could have been a much better ripoff. Unfortunately, the grubby hands it got into were those of Greydon Clark.

The opening of this movie is a series of annoying missteps. A group of women we do not know (we’re not even sure how many there are) invade a gas station in the middle of nowhere and start blowing stuff up. Their names are given in the opening shot but not in a way that makes them memorable. One character apparently dies, the others go on without her, and then she reappears to save the day. None of this makes much of an impression beyond ‘oh, look, tits’, but we can tell they’re trying to get into the main building. We get into it just enough that we want to see what’s inside, and then bam. Freeze-frame, narration.

The time for this would have been about five minutes earlier. Seriously, this ‘action opening’, obviously patterned after things like James Bond, goes on for five minutes at least in which we don’t really know what’s happening or who any of these characters are. If we had just one to focus on that might help, but we’re watching six or seven of them run around doing different things and we don’t even know what their plan is so we can’t tell if it’s going right or wrong. The whole sequence should have been either massively cut down to just enough to tell us action is happening before it goes into the flashback, or just moved in its entirety to its proper place later in the narrative.

Then when we finally do start meeting the characters, the first one we meet is not the one who began narrating a moment earlier! It’s the beat-up kid’s sister, the one who so-far looked like she was in charge. Finding out she’s secondary in the whole plot is a bit of whiplash, and as far as I can tell the main purpose of the Vegas sequence (besides showing us her midriff) is to give a cameo to Arthur Godfrey as himself.

From there the rest of the characters are introduced and we finally find out who the hell they all are and what they bring to the table. April, the teacher, is the mastermind. Michelle, the singer, is the backer. Terry, the stuntwoman, is their engineer. Keiko, the karate teacher, is the hand-to-hand fighter. Maria, the model, is a distraction. Elaine, the cop, is the tactician. And Trish, the student, is… uh… somebody wanted a kid in this movie. The point is, if you go back and watch the opening sequence after the bit where everybody’s introduced, it’s much more involving and makes infinitely more sense! They could have had five minutes of action, but they gave us five minutes of boredom just by putting it in the wrong spot!

After some of the movies I’ve see, incidentally, it is a point very much to this movie’s credit that I remember everybody’s names. Well done, Angels Revenge!

That does not, however, outweigh the many other things the movie does badly. The actresses are mere eye candy, hired for their looks and not for their talent. They stand around in ‘sexy’ poses without bras on, and recite their lines like they’re in an eighth-grade play. Even so, they’re better than the men, who are just as bad at acting but aren’t distractingly nice to look at. The best actor in the entire movie is Alan Hale Jr and he’s only got about three lines.

Then there are the bits where the movie tries to be funny. The Neo-Nazis are supposed to be funny, which I’m honestly okay with – Hitler hated being made fun of and so it’s the responsibility of all right-thinking citizens to mock him and his movement whenever possible. But they aren’t funny, just a bunch of fat clumsy guys with Hitler mustaches. I don’t know how people who make movies fail to understand that in order to be funny, characters have to do funny things. Both the Neo-Nazis and other ‘comic’ male characters in the movie are presented simply as ‘lol, men are oafs, right girls?’ without any attempt at an actual punchline.

Another running gag is April, who insists she’s a Very Organized Person, and her over-full purse. That’s not really funny, but I can’t argue with it. Two years ago I bought a bag big enough to hold my knitting and I haven’t seen the bottom of it since. Someday I’ll be rooting around for something, fall in, and end up in Narnia.

The sequence in which they rob the Nazis does provide some action and acts as a trial run to show us the women can work together successfully. But we already saw that in the out-of-place opening sequence, so it’s not really establishing anything we didn’t already know. The fact that we’ve also seen what comes after also tells us that they will succeed at this mission with nobody getting hurt (not that these idiots they’re robbing are in any way a threat), and sucks all the suspense out. Man, the longer I think about it, the more ways in which that opening makes the movie worse! Whose idea was that anyway?

The characters are stereotypes, boring at best and deeply offensive at worst. The black woman is six feet tall and works on vehicles, because black women are butch! The Asian girl knows martial arts and uses a katana, because she’s Asian (and although she’s said to be from Vietnam, she has a Japanese name… it’s possible to come up with a backstory for her that incorporates this, but that’s not my job as an audience member)! The white women are bitches and bimbos, more distinguishable by their hair than by their personalities. April is presented as ‘the mousy one’ simply by not wearing lipstick on a heist.

I guess by having tough women and weak men, the writers thought they were being feminist, or at least appealing to feminists, but that’s not how feminism works on any level. Strength and intelligence isn’t pizza – you getting an extra slice doesn’t mean I don’t get one. Portraying the male antagonists as buffoons is actually deeply misogynistic, because it suggest that women can’t even play unless the men are idiots. The point of feminism is that women are people just as much as men are, and deserve to be treated as such – by other women, by men, and by screenwriters.

Let me illustrate with an example from the opposite extreme: Elinor and Marianne Dashwood from Sense and Sensibility are sisters who each need to get married for the sake of their financial security. That might seem a very sexist premise for a story – and it is, but only because it takes place in a sexist culture. Elinor and Marianne have distinct personalities and different ideas of what makes a happy marriage, and they make decisions as individuals, not simply because they are ‘women’. Each makes her own mistakes and learns her own life lessons, and the narrative explores what society has taught them to expect out of life versus the less romantic reality. They are two human beings. The characters in Angels Revenge, by contrast, are a bunch of pretty props.

It would have been so easy to make something actually enjoyable out of Angels Revenge. As I noted above, it uses a successful formula and it really could have been a fun little piece of exploitation cinema. Every decision made along the way, however, seems designed to sabotage it. It’s badly-written, lifeless, cliched, racist, and based on a fundamental misunderstanding of feminism. They hired women with no acting experience to play the main characters, and can’t decide which of those characters is our heroine. And of course, they edited it together in the wrong order, confusing and boring us and undermining what should have been important and suspenseful scenes. This sort of thing just leaves me frustrated and annoyed. You’re making a movie, people! Could you not put a little fucking effort in?!

#mst3k #reviews #angels revenge #70s

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takethistoyourstardust · 6 years

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Mage’s Top Ten Favorite Bandori Cards

The only rule is one per character otherwise every single Kaoru card would be on here. They can be three or four star cards, and I’m using the fully trained art. This is also just based on aesthetics btw otherwise every Perfect Lock card would be here. Also I’m not eloquent at all but I did give a bit of an explanation.

10) Evening Primping (Saya, 4-Star)

This is (currently) one of two four star Saya cards in EN, and one of three overall, and by far this one is my absolute favorite one. She just looks so HAPPY in this, and there’s a ton of energy behind it. It’s also one of the best in the collection, color-wise. We Love One Mom Friend.

9) This Is My Bushido! (Eve, 4-Star)

This is one badass card. They gave her a WHOLE ASS KATANA and honestly what more do you need. She is small and powerful and bushido and holding the katana shows how bushido she really is. But in all seriousness this ties into her obsession with samurai SO beautifully and she just looks so dang cute about to slaughter all her enemies.

8) Abyssal Necromancer (Ako, 4-Star)

The chunni drummer of Roselia gets to show off her actual Chunni Skills in the Neo-Fantasy Online set and it’s so adorable. If you didn’t notice, all the summons are the other members of Roselia and that is SO CUTE. Powerful and adorable, with probably the most dynamic movement of any of the centered four star cards.

7) Wedding Crasher (Tomoe, 3-Star)

I am so salty I didn’t pull this because it was a limited gasha set. The wedding set was kind of a mixed bag (the two stars were good but the other two in this set were kinda ugly), but the chaotic designs of the wedding dress works perfectly in the deep red Tomoe has on. It also gains points for being one of like two trainable cards that doesn’t sexualize the living hell out of her.

6) With the Rain (Sayo, 3-Star)

This is my favorite Sayo card from the bunch because she just looks like she’s having so much fun. It has a lot of energy, which is rare in a lot of Sayo’s cards, and she’s just is rockin’ out like no one’s around. Also the untrained art on this is the absolute cutest thing in the WORLD.

5) Maritime Detective (Kokoro, 4-Star)

This was Kokoro’s first four-star card, and my god is it a cute one. This one fits in with the Phantom Thief event story line so perfectly, doing it better than some other sets I could mention like PasuPare’s Fairy set, and I think it captures her personality perfectly. Also when you equip the outfit this comes with she spins a cane in some of her animations and it’s adorable I love this rich child.

4) Birdcage Diva (Yukina, 4-Star)

Fun fact, this was the very first four star card that I wanted in the entire game. A Song Unfinished made me cry and to this day, LOUDER is one of my favorite Roselia songs of all time, even if it’s balls-bustingly hard. This card is gorgeous, plain and simple. Everything about it, from Yukina’s expression, to her dress, to even the blue/black/gold color scheme, just ooze elegance. This was one of the best sets to introduce a Yukina four-star for, and my god did they deliver.

3) The One I Admire (Aya, 4-star)

I’ll admit, I was torn between this and her initial, but this card is just too damn pretty to ignore. The whole Purity set is gorgeous, but Aya’s is just... plain beautiful. It diverges a lot from the other candy coated PasuPare sets, and really put the Pastel into Pastel*Palettes. One day, I will have her, and on that day, she will be a Powerful ally... get it, because this card has the Powerful attribute and I’ll shut up now.

2) The Star Of The Show Appears! (Kaoru, 4-Star)

I was torn between FOUR CARDS for this slot. Either this one, the Romeo 4-star, the Phantom Thief 3-Star, or her Shoutarou Hidari cosplay Hard-boiled Detective 4-star. In the end, I went with this because... WELL JUST LOOK AT HER. She radiates the most powerful Butch energy in the universe, everything about this pose screams “giant fucking lesbian”. And you KNOW she’s a damn theater kid. I LOVE ONE PRINCE.

But there can only be one winner.

And, ironically, she’s another Hello, Happy World! member...

1) Hunting For Rabbits (Kanon, 4-Star)

Not only is this the best card out of the entire Wonderland set, this is the best card in the game, bar none. The White Rabbit fits her character PERFECTLY, the dress is so god damn fluffy and cute, she’s actually FULLY SMILING with NO TEARS and NO NERVES she’s actually having FUN oh my GOD I am going to ADOPT HER NOW. I am sooooo glad that the Wonderland set isn’t limited or else I would be crying like every day that I didn’t have her on my team.

Not only do I love this card enough for it to be my icon (behind the bi flag ofc), but I love this card so much and I was so upset I didn’t pull her, my boyfriend literally sent me twenty physical photos of the trained art, along with my second favorite Kanon card (the Fluffy Monster Kanon). THAT IS HOW MUCH I ADORE THIS CARD.

That’s my top ten sorry this was so long h.

#the Mage rambles #long post #respecting band women

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abbytheslothwitch · 6 years

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Text 2 (Had more from this but it cut out) (Did this from my phone)

9 United Chronicles.

Book 1: Unfortunate event.

Chapter 1: Assumptions.

(Warning! This story contains aggressive behavior, violence, strong language, and lots of crazy stuff.)

Life will find a way.

Life will go on.

Darkness loomed over the barren wasteland. There was nothing, nothing but a bunch of dead bodies, broken machines, and buildings that lay in ruins, the only signs of life were just mechanical monsters and rats that survived the toxic gases that killed and destroyed everything.

Except for one place.

Far beyond the wasteland and all of its nightmares was a garden like world, so beautiful and alive. This world of life was protected by a barrier put active by the elements that made up our world: Water, Fire, Earth, Winds, Ice & Snow, Plant life, Electricity, Holy Light, and Unholy Darkness.

But near the wasteland but farther in the garden lands was a large river, separating the two land. The only way to get to Wasteland or the world of living creatures and plants was by a large oak wood bridge, strong enough to support a fully grown elephant. In this protected area lays a meadow of tall grass and lots of flowers, a Forest stretching as far as the eye can see, with all kinds of plants and animals, and next to the forest was a set of farms for domesticated animals, a temple near the forest and the meadow, and a village where surviving humans colonized, most of which were rebels that came out of the underground colony. But in the Temple lived a different kind of colony.

These colonists were known by the humans as "Homunculie", or most commonly known as "Stitchpunks".

In the Temple there is a library, where these Stitchpunks lived and all of them were lead by two leaders. 9, a determined male burlap Stitchpunk who wanted nothing more than to keep his people safe and help them all become strong. Along side 9 was his mate / wife, 7. 7 was white canvas, strong, graceful, and had a kind heart who wanted only to help the broken, the weak, the young, the old, and the disabled. Together, she and 9 kept everyone in their home safe, sound, and strong with the they created with each other, but their existence could not have been possible if it wasn't for their creator. Together, 9's clan and another clan of Stitchpunks, lead by a hot tempered female, humanity can be at peace, knowing their hope for the future.

But unknown to the human, not everything was perfect in the Stitchpunk’s blessed home. For 9 had made the mistake of taking in an old foe of man, and soon....... To ALL the Stitchpunks in their peaceful safe haven.

——

*Temple library, mid day*

——

A large wooden table, in the center of the library that were accompanied by two bookshelves that held many unread books and historical documents, held the living area of the clan’s home, accompanied by a tailor's sewing box and lager dollhouse at both ends of the table. Near one of two bookshelves was a tin lunchbox which acted like a desk was the Savior of the Stitchpunks, 9 and his good friend 5 were talking about what the watch tower was going to look like and where they were going to place it. Literally one minute into the conversation, 5’s mate 10 came barging in, angry as usual. “ARGH!!” 10 yelled in rage “I hate that d - GRAH!! I can handle being called that a witch, but he..... Grrrr..... He crossed the line!!”. The female Stitchpunk was not pleased with one of the member’s actions that day. After she got on the table, 10 threw her Katanas on the ground and plopped down on a book. She was, clearly not happy

10, according to her clan, was not the kind of female you would want to anger. She was the kind of girl who would most likely try and kill someone and everyone knew it, this female took things very serious when it came to her family. 10 did not look like most normal female Stitchpunks, the fabric which she was made from was white, she had the figure of a female human, such as Hips, Full lips, ect. Her hair was a pinkish red which was draped over her head and reached down to her lower back, and had Slate colored Optics for eyes. Unlike almost all of the Stitchpunks, 10 wore clothes, she always wore a black jumpsuit that had no sleeves, a purple kimono like jacket which reached down to her knees as well with a two pink cherry blossoms on the both sleeves, and the legs of the suit reached down to her knees and wore black leggings. She always wore a silver belt and her hands and feet were made from dark oak wood and yellow copper heels and fingers, she was something else.

Aside from her appearance, 10 really was deadly. The swords she made weren't the only thing that could kill someone, it was her soul that, mixed with the alchemical symbol, she could make fire with just her hand and mind. She was known as "the Phoenix queen", and when she deemed anyone an enemy, she'd burn you, burn you until you were nothing but ashes.

5 felt his mate’s anger from where he was standing, he wanted to ask why she was mad but knowing her, it was best to leave her alone and let her cool off first. Both he and 9 knew that if they’d get close enough, they were bound to get burned by the firy female, so they decided to keep their distance from her.

9 was the first one to notice the female warrior’s frustration as soon as she walked on the table, he thought if he called her over and discuss the plans for the watch tower a bit, she’d calm down. “Hey 10,” said 9 “How was your day?” as 5 quivered behind him, the warrior glared at the males and walked over to them, only to slap 9 cross his face.

”I told you! I told you! I told you NOT to let him in, but you listen? NO! You did the opposite of what I said, and NOW--!

“Hey! Hey! Take it easy! What are you talking about exactly?” 9 demanded “It's that crazy old man I warned you about! That bastard has been nothing but bigger pain than 1 has since he came here! He yelled at my students while I was giving a lesson today!” 10 said to 9, “ Are you talking about Claude?” 9 had asked.

"WHO ELSE WOULD I BE TALKING ABOUT, IDIOT?!”

"Okay, calm down for one!" said 5, trying to calm his mate down. “Tell us about what happen with Claude.” 10 sighed then she spoke, “You really wanna know?! Fine! Here’s what went down.”

——-

*1 hour ago, in the quart yard*

——-

In the left side if the Temple was a round brick wall leading from a side door. 10 and her older brother, Butch, were teaching was just beginning. The day’s lesson was on how to be Strong and Gentle while fighting the enemy: keeping balance in battle. The Students, who were 3, 11, 17, Tomiko, and to partake in the fun, 13, sat on a large rock in order to keep themselves distant from the demonstration of today’s lesson.

Much like 10, 13 was made differently from the other Stitchpunks in the clan. She was made a light sand colored purse, had short light orange hair, and wore a long light pink dress with a black vest with two silver buttons on it. She also had silver optics and her fingers and feet were made out of red copper. But unlike most of the young Stitchpunks, 13 would not fight, even if she wanted to she couldn’t; she just preferred to dance, she did ballet most of the time, and everyone loved watching her preform. Although she could not fight due to the fact she was a pacifist, 13 enjoyed watching 10’s class and learned a lot from the firey red head, the leader she'd known for a long time.

They were in the middle of the lesson when Butch ,on accident, threw his weapon at the rock which the Kids were sitting on. The sword didn’t hit anyone (thank goodness), but before a word could be spoken, the sitting rock broke and fell apart into pieces, which made the kids fall, all hitting the ground very hard.

“Oh Dear God!!!” 10 shouted as she and Butch ran to the children's aid, “Are you all okay?!” “Yeah!” said 17, the light brown burlap Stitchpunk who helping his friends up to their feet, “Just a few bruises, but we’re okay, at least I think so.”. “I’m so sorry kids! That’s never happened before!” Butch said out as he picked up 11 who proceed with kicking his leg. Everyone clearly got upset with Butch, though it was an accident.

“Well Butch, you’ve finally done it…. You pushed me pass my limit! 17! Make sure no one is hurt! I need to a WORD with my older brother here. The rest of you, take the rest of today off.” the red haired teacher announced to everyone.

“Ahem!”

Everyone stopped in their tracks, allof the, except for 10, turned their head to see who spoke up. It was someone that everyone in the temple had troubles getting along with, Claude, a gray old male Stitchpunk with ebony arms and right leg, bronze clips holding him together, a brown belt, wore a raven hood, and had a crimson red jewl imbedded in his head. He had walked in the quart yard when 10 called off the lesson without anyone noticing, and he was obviously not in a good mood.

Everyone had stopped at the sound of Claude’s presence, not from the very they met him. Not wanting to make her students anymore uncomfortable than they already were, 10 turned to face the elder to speak, “Hello Claude! What do you want? You looking for a book or something? Cause if you are, you're in the wrong place, so if you will please leave me and my students alone, that would be swell.” “No. I’m here to make sure you and these....... "underlings" were doing your jobs like you were supposed to be doing, which it seems like none of you are doing anything. You don't want me to report you, do you,.... "10"?!” Claude yelled.

“Alright, look here ‘Macbeth’!” 10 said a loud “WE were doing a lesson when my IDIOT of a brother threw his sword at the kids! I called off the lesson because of it! And FYI, it’s not your job to boss people around like you used to do, now bug off!”

"Madame, that is no way to speak to your superiors."

"You Ain't my superior! You don't this place! You don't do sh** around here! You and 1 just going around boss people like you run the show or something lime that, but you don't! And another thing....!"

Since he was taller than her, Claude looked passed 10, turning attention to what was going on behind the tempered, where he noticed something, something he didn’t favor.

“What’s that creature doing here?”; that question threw 10 off. “I beg your pardon?” “13, what is she doing here?”

She turned to 13, who clearly trying to hide behind 17 who had spoken up, “She was just watching the demonstration is all.” " And that is all? Has nothing like this happened before?” Claude said as he pointed at the now broken sitting rock.

“Yeah.” said Butch "But a lot of strange things happens when anyone's around.”

“Was she around during thoughs events?”

“Yes, she was.”

"Were your sister’s students and 13 present when anything horrible happened? Like the humans losing their crops, half of their live stock, and when Leonard and 8 were injured?”

Butch had to think for a moment before he gave answer to the old Stitchpunk. “Yeah, they were all there too, especially 13; why? Does it bother you so much that bad things happen?”

“Dreadfully, but you’ve just helped me with my point, so thank you for that, Hutch!”

“MY NAME’S NOT HUTCH, YOU CRAZY OLD COOT!!”

“What are you talking about Claude? What was your point in involving us with the crops, live stock, and what happened with 8 & Lenny? What does all of that gotta do with 13?” asked 11 just as confused as everyone else.

“Well 11,” Claude started “I’ve been observing most of those accidents for a while now, and I have noticed at the times of the events there was one Stitchpunk present during all of them!”

He continued. “I've come to the conclusion that someone has caused this unfortunate event and is still causing catastrophes as it was seen here today.” he said as he glared at the children. No one dared to speak a word. “Okay, I’ll be most clear; 13. She was there when the humans lost there crop, living supplies, and she was there when your younger brother and 8 were attacked! Is anyone taking any hints?!" Once again, no body said a word, this made the elder angry.

“YOU IDIOTS!!! 13’S THE ONE WHO’S BEEN ATTRACTING ALL OF THE MISFORTUNE AROUND OUR HOME!!!”

"Wait, what?!”

“Hold on a second! 13?! Causing misfortune?!”

#my writing #long post

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zairiswilzuun-blog · 6 years

Text

Do You Remember?

(( What follows is a story about Zair’is and his partner in crime’s last ditch effort to get his memories back. Hope you enjoy the read! ))

“Check your gear.” Zair'is absently addressed the smaller female Xaela. They had made camp just outside of Castrum Abania, the sun had set, it was raining. Zair'is was decked out in his usual combat gear; full range of motion in the arms, gauntlets that defended his forearms, greaves that gave him protection to his knees and lower legs. The Xaela's name was Artani and for the last few months they had been operating on and off as a pair when missions called for it.

“I did.” The Xaela responded simply. She could tell Zair'is was nervous, even if he didn't outright show it. Her eyes scanned him and watched him as he checked his pack for the fourth time.

“Check it again.” Zair'is paused to flatly deliver the command to her. Artani rolled her eyes and couldn't help but smirk a little, checking her small pack again to humor him. Artani's gear almost mirrored Zair'is', lighter and easier to move around in than his with less protection on the arms and legs.

“I assume you know where we're going and what we're looking for?” Artani's heterochromia affected eyes pierced through Zair'is as she stared at him. Zair'is was mouthing to himself and making a checklist in his head, for as much as he could remember anyway. He absently nodded in response to her question. Artani shrugged, his response good enough for her. She shouldered her pack and checked her weapons, tilting her head up to look toward the horizon at the looming castrum. The plan was, at least as far as Zair'is explained to her, was to sneak in, find where they kept the test subjects for the hypertuned project, insert Zair'is in, and try to reverse the process that was done to him in an effort to get his memories back.

Even Zair'is himself wasn't sure the plan would work, but he was running out of time and didn't have many other options. He was given some hand-written notes on his “condition” but nothing that would help him reverse it or fix it. Nothing that would even help him delay it. To him, he was going to have to handle the problem himself, only this time Artani insisted she help and watch his back. Artani rest her hand on Zair'is' shoulder, causing him to pause his pack check.

“We should get moving. The rain's only going to get worse. I'll go in first and make a path. Follow my lead in.” Artani hummed and gave a slight nod as if to cap a period on her statement, moving past Zair'is toward the bridge leading into the Castrum. Zair'is took a few slow breaths and shouldered his pack. He used his thumb to push his katana out of his scabbard a slight amount, checking the motion of it to ensure he could draw and sheath it as quickly as he needed to. Satisfied, he followed after the Xaela.

It would be storming soon, and the idea was to use the heavy rain to their advantage to get into the facility unnoticed. The hardest part would be retracing Zair'is' steps during his initial raid and hope that they didn't butch up security in that time. Zair'is had assumed security would still be recovering from the raid that nearly killed him. In reality, he didn't have much of a plan; more of an act of desperation that he hoped would be a solution to his looming problem.

“We're on the way in. I'll keep you posted.” Zair'is murmured into his linkpearl, his footsteps sinking in the soggy sand. He was smart enough to tie his hair back to keep his hair from getting in his way, and without it he likely would have had a difficult time tracking the fast-moving Xaela as she darted through the night. She was eliminating guards in such a ruthlessly efficient fashion it would have made even the most established assassin blush.

“So far so good.” Zair'is gave kudos to his partner over their private pearl. The Xaela didn't respond, clambering up one of the pipes on the outside of the castrum to pry the haphazardly repaired grating loose; their way in. She squeezed into the pipe, leaning her upper body out and lowering a hand to give Zair'is a pull up. Trudging through the wet sand to pick up speed, he kicked from the pipe and used the momentum to push himself upward, clapping his hand into Artani's, who simultaneously pulled him up to allow him to grab onto the lip of the pipe. She had turned back around at this point and worked her way further into the pipe, leaving Zair'is to work his way into it in a much slower manner, his build being much bigger than Artani's.

Artani wormed her way through the pipe to the point she was out of sight, while Zair'is slowly shifted ilm by ilm through the pipe behind her. “Should probably lose some weight.” Zair'is heard over the private pearl. “You're almost a foot shorter than me, and you have much less muscle than I do.” Zair'is bit back in a strained tone as he continued to shift through the pipe. “All I heard was that you're a bigger target.” Was the quip he heard back. He saw another opening finally at the end of the pipe that Artani had already cleared for him. Leaning his upper body out first, he gripped the lip of the pipe and pushed the rest of his body out of the pipe, flipping his lower half over his upper half then dropping into the facility.

Artani was already making friends, introducing herself to one of the Garlean scientists the best way she knew how. “Hypertuned. Location. Now.” Zair'is could barely hear the words, but could read her lips well enough as she threatened the scientist with her dagger and superior choke hold positioning. The scientist didn't say much, but did point down the hall which meant that Zair'is' memory hadn't betrayed him completely yet. Zair'is held his position for several moments, scanning his eyes across the facility and recalling the events that lead up to his near death experience. His timing was off, and there was some big shot lieutenant present that evening which meant a larger guard presence, and he had the misfortune of squaring off with the lieutenant himself.

“Hey. Let's go. You can think later.” Artani encouraged him forward as she made her way down the hall, having given the scientist an unexpected napping opportunity. Zair'is pressed on behind the Xaela, letting her take the lead as she insisted. Artani wasn't convinced that Zair'is had fully recovered from being deathly ill and almost bleeding to death, so she was trying to stay out in front of the male Miqo'te to keep him from getting involved in too much action. Plus, in her mind, she was vastly sneakier than he was. “We're inside. Heading toward the hypertuned testing chamber.” Zair'is posted an update across the linkpearl.

The hallways leading to the hypertuned project were surprisingly light on guard postings. Something that made both the Miqo'te and the Xaela nervous, but gave Zair'is hope that his intuition was correct and that were still on the recovery. Zair'is pulled a small leather bound notebook from his satchel and made a “psst” noise to the Xaela in front. Artani perked up and paused her movements, turning to look at the Miqo'te. Zair'is flung the notebook to her with a long, underhanded toss. Artani snatched it out of the air, looking at it with a quizzical look on her face. “Notes on how to operate the machine. They're basic and incomplete, but hopefully it helps.” Zair'is explained over the private pearl.

Artani nodded wordlessly and stowed the notebook. Truthfully, she was nervous about having to operate the machine at all. Machinery wasn't her forte to begin with, and considering Zair'is' entire mental structure was on the line for this particular event, she was feeling less than confident. Zair'is' footsteps quietly padded across the metal floor, until they approached a door. Zair'is took a moment to reflect and then keyed in the combination of symbols to the best of his recollection. The panel flashed green and the door slid open with a gliding sound, revealing the hypertuned testing chamber to the Miqo'te and the Xaela.

“Empty. Trap.” Artani quietly gave her analysis to the Miqo'te next to her, keeping her eyes scanning across the room. “Maybe. They might be trying to reboot the project. Or... maybe testing is finished.” Zair'is gave his assumption, taking a few steps into the room. He noticed the tube was closed next to the machine, with a dim red light providing a minor amount of illumination throughout the chamber. “...They put someone in there.” Zair'is alerted Artani, his eyes narrowed as he approached the machine and the tube. There was dim lighting throughout the room, overpowered by the dim red light on the tube itself.

Zair'is stared at the control panel and held his hands out in front like he was about to start pushing buttons, but paused for a few moments to collect himself. Muscle memory kicked in and his fingers slowly danced across the control panel. Soon, the panel flashed green and the light mirrored the action by turning from red to green. The tube slid open and both the Miqo'te and the Xaela turned their attention to it. There was another Miqo'te inside. Male. Almost an exact match for the color pattern for Zair'is.

Intrigued, Zair'is approached the tube, leaning over the lip of it to investigate the Miqo'te inside. His eyes were closed, looking as if he was asleep. Zair'is widened his eyes slowly as he noticed a strikingly familiar look to the Miqo'te. “...He... looks like me. No scars. Younger. I... I don't understand.” Zair'is vocalized his confusion, but was cut short by the Miqo'te's eyes suddenly popping open. His arm darted up and his fingers wrapped around Zair'is' neck, which Zair'is reflexively gripped the wrist of the familiar tubed Miqo'te. Artani was already in motion toward the tube, darting to the base of the tube. Zair'is stared into the tube Miqo'te's eyes, narrowed and noticing that his mouth was sneered in anger.

Snapping his attention from Zair'is, the tube Miqo'te attempted to grab Zair'is' katana to defend himself from the rapidly approaching Xaela. Using his free hand, Zair'is pressed his fist into the outstretched hand of the tube Miqo'te, forcing it into the edge of the tube and holding it there. Forced with the decision of getting assaulted by the approaching Xaela and keeping his hold on Zair'is, the tube Miqo'te released his grip on Zair'is' neck, allowing Zair'is to retreat a few steps and get his hand on his katana. The tube Miqo'te raised a foot to plant it on Artani's stomach as she spiraled through the air to get over the lip of the tube and skewer the tube Miqo'te with her daggers, interrupted by the intercepting foot and forced backward.

Flipping to a lowered posture as she hit the ground, Artani waited to see what the tube Miqo'te's next move would be, much as Zair'is was doing. Neither of them said anything, but watched as the tube Miqo'te climbed out of the tube, pulling free of the tubes attached to his form-fitting helmet. “I. Am rage.” The tube Miqo'te finally spoke. It sounded similar to Zair'is, but different enough to be off-putting in an uncanny valley sort of way. Still unsure as to what the purpose of the tube Miqo'te, but understanding completely that he was indeed hostile, Zair'is darted forward, drawing his katana in the same moment to attempt a horizontal slice across the tube Miqo'te's abdomen.

The tube Miqo'te reflexively darted backward, using the tube to rebound back toward Zair'is and deliver a swift kick into his ribs. Into Zair'is' healing wound. The sharp pain bloomed across his stomach and his midsection in an instant, causing his arms to shiver, threatening to drop his blade. He felt moisture form on his eyelids, dropping to a knee. Artani responded in kind, launching into the tube Miqo'te's flank and attempting to bull rush him away from Zair'is. She connected, the tube Miqo'te not fast enough to intercept her completely. His hands pressed against her shoulder and the side of her head as she threatened to push the tube Miqo'te prone.

Sheathing his blade, Zair'is rotated his body on the floor, kicking his leg out to sweep the tube Miqo'te's feet out from under him in an effort to take advantage of the momentum provided by Artani. He found purchase in the back of the tube Miqo'te's knees, sending him toppling over onto his back. Artani found herself perched on top of the tube Miqo'te with his foot planted on her midsection, attempting to kick her off and use the momentum to right himself with a kip-up in the process. Zair'is reached out and grabbed the free ankle of the tube Miqo'te, restraining him from completing the second part of his process. Artani was kicked up and slightly back into the air, throwing her slightly off balance, though she was able to roll and recover on the metal floor.

Zair'is pulled the tube Miqo'te across the metal floor, his metal helmet scraping and bumping across the grooves in the floor. Climbing on top of him and digging his knees into the side of the tube Miqo'te, Zair'is propelled his right hand into the Miqo'te's face, striking him across his left cheek, then following up with a left. This process continued for three more punches until the tube Miqo'te grabbed Zair'is' right arm, noticing the wound he had that went across the whole of his shoulder and wrapped around under his armpit. He sank his thumb into the wound, applying pressure while simultaneously rocking his body upward toward Zair'is and gripping him by the throat again.

Zair'is cried out from the shooting pain across his arm, his whole body shivering. He breathed in and out with heavy breaths through his teeth, saliva spitting across the tube Miqo'te's face as he stared unblinking with complete hatred and anger at Zair'is. His thumb continued to sink into his shoulder, blood spurting from the wound and oozing across the tube Miqo'te's hand. Zair'is attempted to used his left hand to grip the tsuka of his katana with an underhanded grip, trying to pull the katana out enough to use the tsuka as a blunt attack against the tube Miqo'te's ribs. The tube Miqo'te reflexively raised a knee and blocked the blade from releasing by hooking his knee cap against the fuchi. Zair'is locked eyes with the tube Miqo'te, both growling like wild animals at one another and locked in a grapple that Zair'is was quickly losing. The whistling sound of steel through the air could be heard along with the dull thunk of steel sinking into something soft.

Artani had successfully aimed and lodged one of her daggers into the tube Miqo'te's thigh that was blocking Zair'is' katana from releasing. The tube Miqo'te flinched, but maintained his posture, still applying pressure in Zair'is' wound and flexing his fingers around his throat. Hearing Artani's footsteps rapidly approaching, the tube Miqo'te attempted his initial maneuver a second time, rolling backward and throwing Zair'is in the direction of the approaching footsteps. Successfully using the momentum from the throw, the tube Miqo'te rolled into a crouch and turned his attention behind him. Artani shifted to the side and held her hand out, catching Zair'is' good arm and throwing herself out of alignment in the process. The Miqo'te and the Xaela spun one and a half rotations before landing prone on the floor.

Artani was the first to right herself, using a kip-up to get herself up from the floor. She stood defensively over Zair'is, who rolled over to his good arm and pushed himself up on his elbow, using a knee to elevate himself. The tube Miqo'te slowly paced across the metal floor with his bare feet, approaching the duo with his eyes locked on Zair'is. Grunting and still breathing in and out heavily, Zair'is tried to move his right arm and experienced the sharp stabbing pain he was intimately familiar with. Unable to move it more than a few ilms, he let the arm dangle by his side, blood still oozing across his pale skin. Slowly and wobbly, Zair'is stood, his underhanded grip remaining on the tsuka of his katana.

“You're going to bleed out. You need to run.” Artani commanded Zair'is, not moving her eyes from the approaching tube Miqo'te. “I'm not leaving you.” He responded to her through grit teeth, his voice pained. He was breathing with sharp bursts of noises accompanying his exhales. “I can buy you time. You can't fight in your condition. I can.” Artani protested, still standing defensively in front of the wounded Miqo'te. “Now is not the time to be stubborn, old man.” Her words didn't seem to be doing much good to getting the wounded Miqo'te to make a run for it. Zair'is continued to stare at the tube Miqo'te as the distance closed between them.

Artani grunted as she ducked low and attempted to gouge the tube Miqo'te between the ribs, which the caused the tube Miqo'te to respond by shifting his posture and wrapping his arm around Artani's wrist. The tube Miqo'te's hand applied pressure to her elbow, pushing it in the wrong direction and threatening to break her arm at the joint. Artani attempted to respond by jabbing her other dagger up toward his jaw. The tube Miqo'te attempted to intercept her strike by gripping her wrist but wasn't quite fast enough, instead catching the dagger through the palm of his hand. His hand was skewered but he had effectively stopped her from utilizing that dagger further, as the guard was locked against the bottom of his palm, the point of the dagger sticking through the top of the tube Miqo'te's hand.

The tube Miqo'te continued to stare at Zair'is, flinching a bare amount at the blade gouging through his hand. Zair'is grit his teeth and took a step toward them, trying to quickly think of a solution that wouldn't involve Artani's arm being broken. Noticing that Artani's body was held off and slightly to the left of the tube Miqo'te, Zair'is didn't like the solution he came up with, but acted instead of thinking further. “I'm sorry!” Is all he vocalized as he turned his body and in one smooth motion released his katana and stabbed behind him with the freed katana, using his momentum and his underhanded grip to stab through Artani's side, ideally above her kidney and under her lung, then puncturing through her and stabbing into the stomach of the tube Miqo'te.

Artani's eyes widened as she felt the steel sink through the soft part just above her hip, but felt the pressure against her arm alleviate as the shocked tube Miqo'te recoiled backward, his hand instinctively going for what was stabbing through his stomach. Artani flipped her dagger around in her hand and stabbed just below the shoulder blade into the tube Miqo'te's back, dragging her blade diagonally upward toward his neck. Zair'is turned the blade and as quickly as he could, pushed the blade to the right.

Artani grunted loudly as the blade of the katana cut free from her skin, freeing her from being pinned against the still skewered tube Miqo'te. Zair'is twisted the blade again, pulling the blade in a z-like pattern through his stomach, pulling the blade free from his stomach with a spurt and fount of blood, then sinking it back into his stomach at a slightly upward angle, going through the bottom of his chest cavity and toward his spine.

Artani and Zair'is' blades both reached the same conclusion, connecting into the tube Miqo'te's spine and applying pressure. The tube Miqo'te stared with burning eyes at Zair'is as Zair'is looked over his shoulder. Blood spilled from the tube Miqo'te's mouth, until his eyes rolled back into his head and he went limp, held up only by their blades. Zair'is pulled his katana free first, then Artani unhooked her dagger from his neck. She released her hold on the dagger in his hand, letting the lifeless body collapse to the ground.

Zair'is dropped his bloodied katana on the ground, dropping back onto his backside. He was panting, his skin paling to an even lighter shade of white than it normally was. Blood had pooled along the metal from where he was standing. Pulling a cloth free from his satchel, he cleaned his blade one handed as effectively as he could. He dropped the blade onto the metal floor toward Artani, nodding toward it. “Heat it up.” He commanded with a hurried and winded tone of voice. Dropping to her knees, Artani pulled a whetstone from her pouch and proceeded to rapidly rake it across the blade.

Panting with pain, she continued to rake the stone across the blade until it began to smoke and spark. Zair'is collected the blade with his good hand and immediately pressed it to Artani's exposed blade wound, a sizzling sound accompanying the gesture. Artani hissed and bit down on her tongue, feeling a tear roll down her cheek. Zair'is rubbed the blade along her wound until the brief flash of heat was ineffective and tossed the blade aside again. Pushing himself up back into a standing posture over Artani, he pulled a small bottle from his pack and proceeded to uncap it and dump its contents across Artani's barely cauterized wound. He watched the liquid foam slightly along the wound, Artani still biting down on her tongue and hissing through the process.

Wobbling, Zair'is gripped his shoulder to apply pressure to it. He swallowed heavily with a noise of pain coming from his throat. “Sit.” Artani groaned from her throat, coming up to her knees as Zair'is dropped back down on his backside. Digging through Zair'is' pack, Artani pulled out a couple more cloths, wrapping them around Zair'is shoulder and under his armpit to cover the wound as completely as she could. She dumped what remained of the bottle into the cloth to soak it, then wrapped more cloth around it. Tying it off to ensure it stayed tight, she checked Zair'is stomach, noticing that the scab had ruptured, but the bleeding was controlled. She lifted her gaze to Zair'is' face, then to the machine.

“We have to hurry. Can you stand up?” Artani slowly pulled herself to her feet, gently gripping Zair'is' arm to help him up. Zair'is groaned and hissed through his grit teeth as he stood with her assistance. Slowly they made their way to the machine. Zair'is gripped the edge of the tube with his good arm and with Artani's help guided himself into the tube. “We're starting the process now.” Zair'is updated the linkpearl with a slow and deliberate delivery of words, feeling faint and weak at this point. Flopping onto his back into the tube, Zair'is gave Artani a limp thumbs up. Sliding Zair'is' instructions onto the control panel, Artani scanned it and then the panel, pressing a few buttons to cause the tube to slide closed.

The Xaela's eyes scanned over the Garlean script appearing along the machine, slowly working through it with the aid of Zair'is' hasty instructions. Deliberately and carefully punching the buttons as she went, she noticed that the machine was a bit more freeform in what it could do. Potentially, if she was understanding things correctly, she could alter the Miqo'te's memories; even erase some entirely if she wanted. It did look like there was a means to revert the destruction of his memories, but there was also a risk of leaving him brain-dead from the process. Artani paused, thinking over her options.

Zair'is had commandeered the helmet the tube Miqo'te had on and had plugged himself in once the door had shut. Feeling an overwhelming sense of drowsiness mixed with a sharp painful sensation like the worst migraine he'd ever had, he felt like he was listlessly floating in a black void. Sounds echoed in his mind in what seemed like slow motion, voices with indiscernible messages infiltrated his thoughts, and fragments of thoughts and memories floated through his peripheral like stars in the sky.

Artani was scared. She could be responsible for the death of the Miqo'te if she didn't do this right. Even if she did everything right there was still a chance it wouldn't take and would leave the Miqo'te brain-dead in the tube. Knowing that Zair'is’ wish was to have all of his memories, both good and bad, back; she began the process of reverting the subjugation. Tapping buttons on the console while trying to ignore the searing pain in her side, she darted her eyes to the notes, then back to the console. She had entered everything correctly. She thought she did, anyway. The machine whirred and made several clicking noises, lights flashing from red, to green, then back again. Artani stared at the console, her hands balling into fists. She darted her gaze to the tube, then back to the console.

Zair'is continued to float in the void. Voices started to register and make sense. Familiar voices from people he recognized. He could place faces with the voices. His memories slowly coming out of his peripheral and back into focus. Occasionally there would be an interruption to the voices, like a orchestrion skipping while it played, but things that he had once had great difficulty remembering slowly came back into focus.

The machine continued to click and go through commands, Garlean script scrolling along the machine. Suddenly, the lights began to click off one by one, pulling Artani's attention from the console to the lights themselves. Emergency lighting began to click on. Panicked, Artani figured they were killing power to the facility. She slammed her fists on the edge of the console. “Faster.” She commanded it as if it would cater to her every whim.

Within moments she was plunged into darkness, the only source of light being the faint pulsing light of the emergency lights and the lazily blinking red light on top of the tube. Artani's eyes were wide, darting between the console and the tube. “No. Nononono...” She muttered, tapping at the buttons furiously to get some sort of response out of the console. The machine was silent. “No. No, please.” She begged the console, raising her hand to slowly pull the release lever on the console to pop the lock on the tube.

With a forceful tug, she unlocked the tube. Moving to the side of the tube, she put her weight into pulling the lid open, feeling stabbing pain running through her side as she did so. Finally throwing the lid off the tube, Zair'is was barely visible in the dim light, still with his head tilted to the side. Artani clambered up onto the tube and pressed her ear to his chest. He was breathing, faintly. Her hand moved up to his face, running along his cheek for a moment until she began pulling the lightless tubes from the helmet. Sitting Zair'is up, she pulled the helmet from him. She flicked him in the forehead. No response. Next she pinched his ear. No response. “Wake up! WAKE UP, GODS DAMN YOU!” She shouted, frustrated and slapping her hand across his cheek.

Zair'is furrowed his brow, blinking his eyes open in a bewildered manner. “F-...fuckin'... ow! What was that for?” Zair'is murmured in a groggy fashion, trying to raise a hand to wipe his eyes, but was intercepted by a Xaela squeezing him into a hug against her. “Scaring me like the asshole you are.” She responded. The hug was brief, before she clambered back out of the tube, helping Zair'is out of it over the lip. “What do you remember? Do you know where we are? Do you know who you are?” She tried to assess his mental faculties in a hurry. “We... we need to leave. You made it work.” Zair'is nodded in her direction in the dim light.

That was enough for Artani, collecting his katana from the floor, Zair'is followed closely behind the Xaela, using the darkness to their advantage to exit the same way they came in. Squeezing through the tube with his arm in the state that it was was one of the most agonizing things imaginable to Zair'is, and with a less than graceful flop out of the mouth of the tube, he landed on his back in the wet sand. He grunted and laid there for several moments, breathing slowly and evenly. Artani reached down and grabbed his good arm, pulling him to a sitting posture, then up to a stand. “We're... ou... out.” He murmured over the linkpearl. “And? What do you remember?” A voice responded back through the linkpearl. “I... I remember. The smug look on your face... when I thought I was being so slick and tried to steal a kiss from you under the Thaliak constellation... and you beat me to it.” Zair'is replied back with a small grin on his face, making his way across the bridge with the Xaela.

“I'm going to make sure you get to your safehouse, then we go our separate ways for now. Best to lay low.” The Xaela took point through the rain as they made their way to the aetheryte. “Hey, Artani...” Zair'is started, both of them illuminated by the pale blue glow of the aetheryte. “Later.” She says, nodding and giving Zair'is a knowing smile. “We can talk about it later. Get going.”

Zair'is stared at her for a moment, patted her on the shoulder then moved to the aetheryte, reaching out to touch it. He braced himself for the all-to-familiar feeling of nausea as he was whisked away to safer territory. Artani paused for a few moments, releasing an exhale like she had been holding her breath for the last hour or so. She couldn't help but laugh to herself quietly, rubbing her face a few times. With a smile, she too touched the aetheryte, disappearing in a flash of white light.

#ffxiv rp #zairis #zair #personal #short story

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