#why do a bird when you can do a dragon defending its clutch
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bewildereye · 8 days ago
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Funguary 2025 Day 21. Bird's Nest.
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gerbiloftriumph · 4 years ago
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Of all the things Graham expected would befall Daventry following the loss of his son, he did not anticipate a Dragon Cult uprising, in which enemies saw the weakness of the kingdom and decided to blame it on Graham’s inability to protect Daventry, choosing to believe that sacrificing his other child to the dragon would rebalance and restore all that they had lost.
Or, I have a hard time accepting what happens at the end of the original King’s Quest 3 game for a number of reasons, as does the guy who writes the walkthrough novelizations. I have crafted a whole headcanon about Valanice protecting her family from a terrible cloaked dragon cult based on one line from the official guidebook:
"The queen may be warm hearted and full of kindness toward all, but when Rosella was to be sacrificed to the fire dragon, Valanice guarded her daughter’s door with naked sword as her protectress.”
See more about this headcanon, with quotes, below the cut:
When Gwydion-Alexander returns to Daventry at the end of KQIII, he’s faced with his twin sister’s near demise at the hands of a dragon. Specifically, she’s going to be sacrificed to it. Alexander frees her and they return home, and Graham is so startled and overcome at seeing both his children alive and well that he has a heart attack.
How did Rosella end up tied to a stake? Was she ordered to go by her father? Did she offer to go herself? Or, wacky and wild headcanon, was she kidnapped by a dragon cultist group that Graham and Valanice knew fully about and were helpless to stop?
It’s not like Rosella tied herself to that pole.
I’m basing all this off the walkthrough books by Peter Spear, using my copies of The King’s Quest Companion 3rd Edition (pub 1993) and the Authorized Player’s Guide to King’s Quest VII: The Princeless Bride (pub 1994). At least the companion has been stamped with approval by Sierra, with a quote indicating enjoyment by Roberta Williams, and the Authorized Player’s Guide has the same implicit approval. Thus, I’m going to consider these as canon. Feel free to try and curbstomp me later for ignoring the sacred original texts, but the sacred original texts’ limited vocabulary bank don’t know how to Cherish Goat or Yell at Birds, and what’s the point if you can’t do that?
First, let’s look at Alexander’s perspective. He’s an outsider right now, with no idea of what’s been happening in Daventry, and he’s speaking to a citizen who tells him what’s currently happening:
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“The three-headed beast had demanded the sacrifice of a maiden, and my own twin sister, Rosella, had been offered as the kingdom’s ransom. Even as we spoke, she was in the clutches of the fire-breathing monster, and her time was running out. She would be cinders by sunset.” Alexander is listening to the tale being retold by someone who might not know what’s going on in the castle, but can see that Rosella is being offered nevertheless. The king and queen won’t let anyone in the castle, apparently because of the “responsibilities for their actions”--but how exactly does this random Daventry fellow know that’s what they’re feeling? But it’s a fair assumption: to think that they’re feeling guilty and refusing to let anyone in because of it.
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Spear, in a brief summary of the games, goes further still, saying that Rosella had been “sent there by her--their!--father, King Graham.” Okay, fine, that’s very clear. Graham ordered Rosella to face the dragon.
But did he really?
Valanice’s direct account, as seen from inside the castle, says something entirely different:
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Rather than Graham ordering Rosella to go to the dragon, the dragon has “demanded her sacrifice against the total destruction of all Daventry and its people, [and Rosella] returned that love by willingly going to meet that flaming doom.” Graham and Valanice are “devastated with loss” which would naturally have them shut the gates, as the outsider perspective saw.
So, who actually sent Rosella to the dragon?
Facts are thus: The dragon demanded a maiden. The Princess Rosella was that maiden, and Alexander had to untie her from a pole to rescue her.
Questions are thus: Did the dragon in his own wisdom and agency demand something, or is the dragon a dumb animal and people are speaking for it? Did Graham or Rosella decide this was the best thing they could do for Daventry? Who tied Rosella to the pole? Was it a Daventry guard, or was it a third party, one very loyal to the dragon, one who might be making demands for it, one who might have threatened the royal family before?
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"When Rosella was to be sacrificed to the fire dragon, Valanice guarded her daughter’s door with naked sword as her protectress.”
Why would Valanice do this? If it was Rosella’s idea, or Graham’s idea, why would Valanice feel the need to stand before her door and keep her safe? Was she defending her daughter from Graham? Or was she defending her daughter from a party of evil foes determined to steal the princess and force her to stand before the dragon, as though her blood spilled on Daventry soil would lift the dragon’s ire and restore the kingdom which, in Graham’s grief over losing his son, was crumbling.
And how long has this possible dragon cult been haunting Daventry’s alleys?
Have they tried this before and were only successful when Rosella was turning 18?
or am i just silly and like the idea of dragon cultists singing hornswoggle’s praise
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dzamie-oc · 5 years ago
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Smaugust 04 - Knight
"When I grow up, I wanna be a knight in shining armor!" The happy shout of an eager youngster, raised on tales of valiant knights who rescued fair maidens or wayward, foolish princes from the clutches of evil wizards, and who took in wicked bandits and recovered ancient treasures from long-forgotten strongholds of traps and undead. To be a knight in shining armor was something which many kids in the kingdom aspired, and this one was no exception.
There was, however, one thing that set Torix apart from the others. He had weapons and armor already: to protect himself, a tough covering of scales, and to defend others, sharp claws, sharper teeth, and... well, a few sparks that would eventually grow into a proper gout of flame from his jaws. In short: he was a dragon.
His mother took heart in seeing him so spirited, but at the same time, knew he would have to be disabused of such a dream. True, she had cultivated her collection of storybooks to avoid dragonslayers, and as such, she suppose she could take partial blame, yet... either way, there was nothing to be done about it. In the meantime, she would offer him other, more draconic hobbies, such as hoarding, hunting, roaring, spellcasting, and, if he takes a shining to it, some light kidnapping.
And for a while, it worked. Torix hoarded, he hunted, he roared, and he managed a light binding spell. He even gained a hot, steady flame! However, when his mother looked a bit closer, she was disheartened: the young dragon hoarded longswords and lost or discarded armor, which he softened and shaped with his breath and claws to better fit himself; he hunted highwaymen and pickpockets, then bound them and left them for towns to find. But, although she suspected he roared for justice, that at least was a fine roar to claim dominion and intimidate his foes. And so, with the determined resolve of an experienced, adult dragon, she set about teaching him the ways of dragons, and let him experiment with using them for knightly things. He took to it like a kelpie to water, and was soon a fine dragon in his own right, even with his eccentricities.
However, no dragon is ever content to stay in their hatching cave forever, and Torix, too, had things to prove: to himself, to other dragons, and to everyone else. So, one day, in his best-crafted armor, and with his bags slung over his back, he bade his mother well until they met again, and was off to a human town.
---
"Uh, Sir Fernal?"
"Yes, Sir Jenkins? What is it?" Fernal braced himself for whatever inspired the rookie knight to seek him out at lunch. His mind went through the banal stuff first: someone lost their sword, someone got locked out of their room, someone decided to be "creative" about getting into their room, or Ronald got stuck in a doorway again.
"Well, you see, they - the others who were there - told me that you're the one to deal with unusual things. Unique events. And, well, I'm pretty sure that this one is very, eh, very unique."
Fernal struggled to resist rolling his eyes. It wasn't the first time someone had said their problem was unique, nor would it be the last. Though it did clear out a lot of potential reasons. Maybe someone's handle broke off and left the blade in their hilt. Or they got another one of those weirdos who WANTED to be thrown in jail. Wait, no - someone had been caught with their pants down around a kobold, and is arguing they should be charged with pedophilia rather than bestiality. Or they're seeking justice for the obvious outcome of playing around with something that sharp-toothed. He looked at the younger knight again, and realized he was waiting for him to say something. This time, he didn't hide his eyeroll. "Well, then? Out with it, Jenkins."
Jenkins jumped and glanced behind him, looking for his words. "You see, Sir Fernal, there's a... well, there's a dragon at the entrance. About twice the size of a horse."
The more experienced knight leaned forward and pressed his fingers to his temples. "A dragon the size of a horse... and neither you nor the three other knights stationed there thought you could do anything about it? Stab it until it stops trying to eat livestock and steal our women." He gave Jenkins a tire, condescending look. "By which I mean, kill the damn thing before it causes more damage than what it's already done."
"I... don't think I can do that, Sir Fernal, without violating my principles as a knight of the crown."
Fernal froze. He fixed Jenkins with a nigh-inscrutable look, as one certain he was about to hear something terribly fascinating, either because of its newness or because of its sheer, utter, unmatched stupidity. "Sir Jenkins," he commanded, "explain."
"Well, you see, it's that, well," the young knight started, unsure of how to phrase the news, "the dragon, he walked up nice and calm, and says he wants to join us."
"We have ample cautionary tales as to why we ride horses, and not anything with a mind."
Jenkins shook his head. "No, Sir Fernal, as a knight. He has armor and everything."
This earned him a long, steady stare, before Fernal stood and began to walk to the door, beckoning Jenkins to walk with him. "Well, whatever prank you four have set up, I'll at least see what it is. Least I can do for such an entertaining lie."
The pair walked through the halls of the order's building. Jenkins continued to try to convince Fernal that he hadn't been lying, but to no avail. Finally, the two of them pushed open the main doors and squinted in the bright midday sun. As soon as he recognized the shape in front of him, he drew his sword quick as a flash and brandished it in front of him.
Torix stepped one paw back, but otherwise looked at him curiously. "Hello. I am called Torix. Are you the one to speak with about becoming a knight?"
Fernal pretended he hadn't heard the dragon, in his glinting, metal armor, speak. "Foul beast, why have you darkened the door of our city?"
Torix blinked, looked to the door guards, then back at Fernal. "I just said, I would like to be a knight. I admire them for their brave deeds and moral code, and it has long been my dream to join their number." Jenkins and the other non-Fernal knights nodded; it was the same thing Torix had told them when he introduced himself to them.
"So the vain lizard seeks fame, and protection from meeting the well-deserved end of his kin?" Fernal growled.
"I did not know knights grew indiviually famous; I thought it was just 'knight' in general that was well-known. Either way, I want to help people. Foil assassinations, recover long-lost treasures to their owners or to museums, and rescue innocent maidens and princes from evil wizards and cults!"
"And dragons," the skeptical knight appended.
"Yes, and dragons," Torix nodded, "though I do not think dragons are as likely to be captured by evil wizards and cults as maidens and princes are."
The two of them stared at each other in silence for a while. The other knights quietly talked about what they thought would happen.
"So... IS it you I go to about becoming a kni-"
"Queen's grace, you're actually not lying," Fernal muttered in disbelief, lowering his weapon.
"I try not to. So?"
Fernal sighed. "I'll... draw up the paperwork while Sir Jenkins here runs you through the entrance exam. If, and I do mean IF, you pass, you can start your training." He waved Jenkins over to him. "Sir? A word in private."
Jenkins walked over, and Fernal took him aside, an arm over his shoulders. "Okay, so the lizard's too dumb to realize dragons can't be knights. I don't want you newbies injured if I can avoid it, so we're going to make him fail the test so he can go away and get himself killed somewhere else." He thought for a moment, then continued, "First task, grab the info of our #1 most wanted. Don't tell him the reward, don't tell him the difficulty, just give him the target. Even better: he has to take the guy in alive, not dead. And if he somehow manages that, we'll go with an old classic: he has to find and bring back a snipe."
Jenkins nodded along, but paused at the last one. "Wait, Sir Fernal, you said that's what I need to do to get my next rank. You're saying it's impossible?"
"No," Fernal lied, "not for a human. But they're very afraid of dragons."
With that, they broke the huddle, and Jenkins explained Torix's trials while Fernal went back inside to finish his lunch. Torix looked over the drawing of his target and listened to the description of the bird he was to find as well, then bowed and took to the sky.
---
Jenkins led the new prisoner into the warden's office. The warden's eyebrows shot up when he saw the spitting image of the most wanted criminal in the city, Grindel Vilswarn, arms bound behind him, soaking wet, and looking more terrified than anyone might think the mad mage could ever be. After he recovered from the shock, he pointed through a door. "Right. Cell 16D, then."
"Please no..." Grindel begged as Jenkins pushed him along, "not a cell... they're so dark and small and... and damp, and small, and..."
The warden gave Jenkins a questioning look, and the knight replied, with an apologetic smile, "new guy's being tested. He has a rather... unorthodox method of transporting targets."
"Tight... wet... dark..." the traumatized mage mumbled as he was led to his spot in prison. "Nothing I could do..."
---
"And just why am I needed outside when I'm off duty?"
"Well, Sir Fernal, Torix is back, and he looks proud of himself."
"Torix."
"The dragon."
Fernal grimaced. "Right, that bespangled lizard. I don't see why this concerns me, Sir Jenkins."
"Quite simple, really," Jenkins said with a bit more smugness than Fernal thought the junior knight had been capable of in his entire life, "you said you'd get the paperwork ready for if he passed the tests. So, naturally, you should present it to him."
The two strode through the door, where they saw the armored dragon sitting, one paw off the ground and closed. Torix and two of the other knights on door duty were having a spirited conversation, with one of the humans appearing to exaggerate the size of a fish he caught once. They all turned to face Jenkins and Fernal when the pair approached, save for the knight doubled over with laughter.
"Look!" Torix said excitedly, his tail flicking back and forth. He held out his forepaw, turning and opening it to reveal a small, brown-and-black speckled bird with a long, slender beak, unmoving in death. It would say 'peent' no more. "I caught it as it flew from the marsh."
The knights looked at the bird. "Sure looks like a snipe to me," one said.
The dragon looked to Fernal expectantly, but the knight stared placidly back; a good knight was prepared for many setbacks, and this was no exception. "I was... not expecting such speed, even just for the entrance exam. It may be some time before-"
"Oh, that reminds me," the knight who had been laughing spoke up, holding a rolled-up parchment, "we finished today's report, including the arrest and the snipe. Just gotta light this sucker up and it'll be off to Her Majesty's people."
Fernal glared at him. "If you think for one second that thing will get near a candle before I review it..."
"I wouldn't dream of it. I know how fond you are of candle duty," the man replied, before turning to Torix. "Say, Torix, you can breathe fire, right?"
Torix beamed. "Yes! In fact, that's how I fashioned my armor!"
With a grin, the knight held forward the rolled-up parchment. "Then could I get a light?"
Two seconds later, Torix was hastily apologizing to the man, who had thrown off his metal gauntlet and was rapidly shaking his hand. But the parchment's spell had gone off, and the ash swiftly sped through the air.
---
The flat of a blade gently struck Torix's right horn, then his left. He remained still, belly and chin low to the ground as he crouched for the Queen.
"The Crown recognizes the deeds of Torix the Dragon, and grants him the title of Knight." The composed woman took several measured steps back, then held the sword out, point-down, where it was taken by an attendant. She nodded just enough to convey authority without displaying weakness or familiarity. "Sir Torix, you may now rise."
Every muscle in his body begged him to crash through the enormous stained-glass window and joyfully soar through the skies, roaring in celebration. Yet Torix steadily pushed himself to a standing position, keeping his head low to avoid the ceiling. Sir Torix, the knight who was also a dragon.
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phoenix-before-the-flame · 6 years ago
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Through the Haze
Hiya guys! Nothing much to see here, just showing off the piece i wrote for the @naluzine , it was a great experience working with other artists and writers! Loved every minute of it! Also I may or may not continue this fic depending on how I'm feeling. I hope I feel like it
Enjoy!
Arrows whizzed past her, narrowly skimming her hair, taking a few blonde strands with them before embedding themselves deeply in an elderly tree just short of her shoulder. Arrowheads sank out of sight beneath and even further below to the honey-coloured wood peeking out at Lucy from cracks in the bark as she sailed past, legs pumping hard despite undergrowth wrapping its spindly fingers around her thighs. They left stinging scratches but Lucy paid them no mind.
She couldn’t afford to slow down.
They were everywhere, leaping above her head from branch to branch and hot on her trail. The 'thwack’ of arrows from their bows and the flash of dark hoods out the corners of her eyes were the only constants in Lucy’s racing thoughts, arms curling instinctively tighter around what they were after, secured beneath layers of cloth wrappings pressed close to her chest.
Thieves, rogues, murderers, they were all one and the same in this hunt. They all possessed the same greedy hisses and the same hungered gazes as their eyes roamed over Lucy, stabbing into her from the shadows of their hoods.
Lucy could almost feel the stifling weight of their arrogance on her shoulders as they closed their ranks around her. They were all enemies to each other, no doubt going to turn on one other after they tore into her for the coveted prize.
But for now, they worked as one. Her lungs were on fire and yet she couldn’t find it in herself to take a proper breath, nor could she reach for the knife strapped to her thigh to defend. To do anything apart from run was to lose her ground. Lucy knew that and they surely knew too.
A cackle sounded when she stumbled, feeling fingers; clammy and bandaged, close around her upper arm. Blindly, Lucy yanked away with a hiss, her arm burning from where she was grabbed, knowing for sure a bruise would blossom later atop her skin.
Unfortunately, that was all they needed. The prize fumbled in her arms yet Lucy held on tighter than ever, eyes squeezed shut realizing that there was no way out as the bodies clamoured around her. The arrows had stopped long ago in the pursuit and Lucy tucked her head low, waiting to feel those clammy fingers grab her once more.
“Please no.” Came Lucy’s ragged whisper, lost inside the wave of triumphant shouts.
She couldn’t be caught, not here. Not with so much at stake. Lucy inhaled sharply, gripping the handle of her blade tightly. If she’s going down, then she wouldn’t go down without a fight.
A hand lashed out and Lucy moved to slice it when smoke filled the air. Thick and heavy curls of gray that danced around her, overpowering the cloying scent of dense wood with rich cloves and wood smoke. Confused shrieks went up in unison as it grew, tangling around her pursuers and thickening to a fog not even their hungry gazes could pierce through.
The hand narrowly missed her, catching only thick streams in its grasp. Lucy stood enraptured by the sight of her pursuers snared by the smoke, unable to move despite best efforts and struggling against the unseen force that had yet to grasp Lucy.
A cloud brushed past her face, a caress in its softness that urged her to move; to flee now that she had the chance. She spared them a glance as she slipped past, their eyes filled with blood and hate. The hisses that left their lips filled were with venom.
With a turn of her head, Lucy disappeared into the gloom, clutching the treasure a little less tightly.
*************
The forest seemed almost a different place now, calmer with chattering birds hidden in the leaves and little critters scampering about in the brush. But maybe it was always like that, Lucy thought with a sigh, rubbing at her arm, maybe it only changed because something bad followed her into it.
She leaned against a tree trunk, the bark rough and scratching at her skin, yet it still felt as heavenly as her bed that she’d left behind days ago. She huffed a little and she reached for her canister to quench her thirst when she smelled it again.
Wood smoke and cloves, weak and lingering in the air.
Lucy looked down beside her at the intricate lamp nestled amidst worn cloth covers and resting against the tree much like herself. The forest light dulled its gold gleam and the glare of the dragon spout’s ruby eyes no longer seemed as harsh. Like its anger had been directed elsewhere.
Smoke leaked from the spout, thin tendrils now pink and not gray like before, weaved their way over to her. It snaked its way past her elbow to rest lightly on her bruise, now a deep purple yellowing at the edges. Almost like fingers gently running over the wound, barely skimming atop her skin.
“You’re hurt.” A voice buzzed in the back of her mind. The smoke swirled tighter around her arm, warm and distracting her from the pulse her bruise had decided to take up. She could almost hear the frown in his voice.
“It was bound to happen. You are well sought after in these parts.” Lucy said, a teasing lilt to her words. She tapped the lamp reassuringly on the top as though she were patting his head.
She hummed lightly at the thought; she wishes she could see him, this genie of the lamp. Her friend, Natsu.
Sometimes when he’s silent, she tries to put a face behind the voice that always seemed to speak softly into her mind, full of snark and lame jokes most of the time and yet, still soft with concern the rest of the time. Like now even, she thinks she could see him, hovering over her with narrowed eyes and lips turned down in a deep pout as he inspected the damage.
Even then, the image was hazy, as though the face she thought up wasn’t good enough and her mind sought the right one. Even after all these months, she still couldn’t picture it properly.
“If anything, I should thank you. If it hadn’t been for you in the end, I’d be nursing harsher wounds.” She took a swig from the canister, eyes still on the smoky tendrils wrapped around her upper arm. It swirled a deep, almost black scarlet as Natsu’s growl resonated in her head.
“There’s only so much I can do from inside my prison. These chains bind me tightly and still, the little I did wasn’t enough.” Natsu sighed and the smoke drooped almost, slithering down to filter between her fingers.
Warm and heavy like a hand resting atop her own, Lucy thinks, flexing her fingers slightly. A sharp knock sounded from the lamp as it rocked a little, a habit she’s noticed when Natsu’s upset, as though he’s banging around inside.
She couldn’t imagine a life like that, sealed in one place forever, forced to do someone else’s bidding. It made her stomach churn with the thought of how much he’s been through in his long life. How many evil wishes he had to grant, where his own voice was drowned out. Lucy wanted to free him so much but his own curse stood in the way.
“Let me free you then.” Lucy murmured, resting a light finger atop his lamp.
Silence met her words, the smoke dissipating to a thin mist. When she’d first ask the question it was met with dry laughter, and just sarcasm afterwards.
How many times had he heard that lie in his life? The promise of freedom? Of course he’d be apprehensive.
But now there was none, the silence uncertain as though he started to believe her just a little. “Why do you always ask? Why don’t you just force me?” His voice was small.
“Because it’s your life. I can’t make that decision for you.”
“But,” Natsu paused, his voice weaker than before when he started again. “once I leave I won’t have my power. I’ll be a mortal like you, and I know nothing of this world now. How can I be of use to you then?” She pictured him gnawing his lip in fear, eyes cast away from Lucy.
Her palm lay flat atop the lamp and she felt his stirrings inside cease. “You’ll be the same as you are to me now,” Lucy reassured. “a friend like no other who I desperately want to help.”
“Why is that?” He shot back. “Why do you want to help me so much?”
“Because no one deserves to be trapped away forever like this.”
Natsu went silent again and Lucy felt the seconds tick by before all the smoke was sucked back into the lamp, like a sudden sharp inhale.
Then Lucy heard him; a weak, shaky chuckle. A trickle of smoke leaked from the spout.
“The first human to ask my name, the first to never use my powers and the first to want me to leave the lamp. Just how many firsts am I going to have with you?”
“More if you say yes. Won’t you please walk beside me instead of having me carry you?” Lucy teased, prodding the stream of smoke in hopes he felt it.
“Won’t you please let me see you?” Her hand rested firm atop the lamp, waiting for his answer.
“I - yes.” Natsu said. “I give my permission. I want to be free.” The 'free’ sounded strained, a word new on his tongue but it was all Lucy needed.
She stroked the side gently, fingers dancing over the intricate gold carvings for the first and last time before rising to her feet. Smoke danced all around, ducking and weaving through the entire forest, racing all about until all was covered in a swirling red fog, dense in some places and light in others. Wood smoke and cloves were the only scent that could be detected in the now silent forest.
A twig snapped in front of her and Lucy held her breath, lungs filled with his scent.
A head of pink was the first thing she saw through the haze.
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konan-supernova · 6 years ago
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Falling for You (Literally) part 2
Words: 2,173
Warnings: some violence/fighting, some swearing
Tagging: @roxinnaxu and @stormblessedcastiel (lemme know if you wanna be added or removed)
part one • part two (you are here) • part three
A shiver went down Patton's spine and he found himself dropping his forkful of eggs halfway to his mouth. The fork clattered against the table and eggs went everywhere, but Patton could only stare ahead in horror. Virgil picked up at the commotion and stared, looking almost concerned. Another shiver wracked his body and Patton flinched, the image of Roman's terrified face suddenly burned into his mind.
Something was wrong. Something was horribly, terribly wrong.
“Patton? Patton!” Virgil was close to him now, not touching, but hovering, his hand levitating above Patton's shoulder ever so carefully. Patton looked up, focused on him, and spoke, fear shining in his eyes.
“It's Roman,” he whispered, and a flurry of emotions crossed Virgil's face before he finally settled on grim determination.
“What's going on?” Logan walked into the room again, pausing as he saw the serious expressions on his fellow sides’ faces. Virgil balled his fists, looking at Patton to explain.
“Roman is in trouble,” he whispered, his words coming out choked and afraid.
“Is it dark sides?” Logan's demeanor had changed dramatically from just minutes earlier, and Virgil could feel the anger radiating off of him. He shivered, knowing that some of it was directed at him. The others had never liked the dark sides, and while Virgil was with them on that from the start, even he had to admit that they were just trying to help Thomas, albeit in the wrong ways.
You're one to talk.
Virgil gritted his teeth, resolving to focus on the here and now. Roman was in danger. Roman needed help. Roman was in danger. Virgil had to help him.
“I don't know,” Patton said, taking in a deep breath. He stood carefully, anger and fear settling in his eyes as he pushed his chair. He turned to the others, a glare settling on his face that was so unnatural for him, so wrong that it made Virgil's stomach roll in fear. Patton seemed to notice and toned it down a bit, but he was still finding when he began to speak again.
“We need to find him, and soon. Logan,” he caught the other side's attention, “you said he was in the Imagination. How long ago was he there?”
“About two hours,” Logan estimated, adjusting his glasses. “We can-”
“I'll go look for him,” Virgil butted in. The other two turned to him in confusion, waiting for him to explain. He didn't have an explanation that he could share, however, as it wouldn't make sense without them knowing about his wings. He could search the Imagination the fastest out of all of them, and if Roman wasn't there, he could report back fastest too.
“Okay, fine,” Patton said finally, shaking his head slightly. “Go, and meet us back here if you don't find him within twenty minutes.”
“What if I do find him?”
“Then text us, especially if he needs help.”
Virgil nodded, his wings twitching nervously under his jacket. He pressed them harder into his spine, hoping the others hadn't noticed the ruffling of his hoodie.
°•°
It didn't take long for Virgil to find Roman. From his vantage point in the sky, he could see out for miles across the Imagination. He made a mental note to compliment Roman on it later, it really was quite beautiful. For now though, he pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to Logan and Patton, hoping they would be able to get to him and Roman quickly.
The prince in question was, for the moment, far below Virgil, standing, back to a wall of flames, in front of the dragon witch. He looked relatively unscathed, but even from his faraway, bird's eye view, Virgil could see the fatigue in Roman's stance. The way his arms and shoulders sagged, the way trembled ever so slightly…. It all pointed to his exhaustion. Roman was usually an advocate for safety, making sure to emphasize it whenever he took one of the others into the imagination, so Virgil couldn't even begin to understand how and why he'd started questing when he was so tired - it made no sense.
Virgil watched as the dragon witch stepped forward, effectively blocking all  of Roman’s potential exits, and he hesitated in the sky above the two, unsure of what to do. Neither had seen him just yet, and Virgil was hoping to keep it that way (at least so long as he had his wings out), but Virgil really needed to go help Roman out. It didn't take a rocket scientist (or Logan, the mindscape's closest approximation) to tell that he would not be winning whatever battle was about to transpire.
It was here, wings flapping endlessly in the impossibly blue sky of the imagination that Virgil witnessed Roman's fall. The dragon witch flung whatever glowing magic spell she held in her hand right at Roman's chest. Virgil froze as the ball of light arched through the air, cutting through the smoke and dust as it made its way to Roman.
A scream was ripped from Roman's lungs as the thing hit home, knocking him to his knees. Roman swayed there, staring up at the dragon witch, and Virgil found himself plummeting out of the sky, trying desperately to reach him in time. He could feel his heart beating, it made his skull throb and his arms heavy with terror as he fell.
He slowed himself down right before he reached the ground with a powerful beat of his wings, landing on his feet between Roman and the dragon witch. She stared at him, mouth open wide in confusion and perhaps anger, but Virgil didn't have the time to wait for her to talk. He spread his wings out protectively, glancing over his shoulder to see how Roman was doing. He paled to see him face down in the dirt, but relaxed a little when he saw him still breathing.
“Who are you?” the witch finally spoke, another orb appearing in her hand. Virgil watched as it pulsed and grew, curious about how she was maintaining it. His curiosity was replaced with fury as he realized who the orb was meant for. If Patton hadn't had that vision of Roman and if Virgil hadn't hauled ass to find him, that orb would be hitting Roman. He was unconscious on the ground, unable to rise up and defend himself. The dragon witch would have hurt him, perhaps even killed him, with her magic.
Virgil's wings twitched behind him, and he had to curl his hands into fists to resist the urge to punch her in the face. It would be quite therapeutic to do so, but then he would just anger her and Roman would be in even more danger. No, Virgil had to play this cool, wait until the others arrived before engaging in battle with the witch.
He took a deep breath and forced his taut muscles to relax.. He raised an eyebrow at the witch, then let a smirk fall onto his face.
“I'm someone,” he said, forcing a thick layer of bravado into his words, “who knows something you don't.”
“Oh, really?” the dragon witch returned with her own smirk. Virgil could feel the fear in her words, though. She wasn't quite terrified, just nervous, but that was all Virgil needed. He silently made thanks that his words had worked, and asked that he would be able to hold out long enough for the others to get Roman to safety.
“Really,” he grinned, crossing his arms over his chest. The witch stared, the hand holding the orb of light twitching as she attempted to figure him out. After a moment, she relaxed, a knowing smile spreading on her face.
“You're bluffing,” she said, and Virgil couldn't help the way his wings twitched. She shook her head and swung her arm back, releasing the orb. Virgil wondered, days later, if his scream had been what led Logan and Patton to his location. He wondered if Patton had seen him in danger the same way he had seen Roman, or is they were close enough for it not to matter. He wondered if they had seen him fall to his knees and clutch his chest in pain.
Then he would wonder if they saw him stand again, wings spread as far as they could stretch and eyes full of determination.
“Is that all you've got?” he hissed through gritted teeth, acutely aware of the running footsteps approaching from behind. He heard a surprised gasp, then whispering, then their voices.
“Virgil…” Patton was the first to speak, but Virgil couldn't acknowledge it. Not only was he terrified of what Patton might say, he also had to keep them safe, as the witch was already charging up another sphere that Virgil knew would be aimed at one of the others. He could see it in her eyes, the crazed pleasure that she took from hurting them…
He wouldn't let her. He couldn't, not when he had the power to stop her.
“Get him out of here,” Virgil rasped, beating his wings. The force created a large gust of wind that blew forward, and Virgil used this and the dry dirt of the burning village to his advantage. A wave of dust flew up into the air, hitting the witch full force, and when it cleared, Virgil was hovering above the fire, clutching Roman's sword, his wings beating rapidly to keep him in the air.
“V-”
“Dragon Witch!” Virgil cut Logan off, knowing that if he spoke, the witch would pay attention to him and not Virgil, and that was the opposite of what he wanted right now. She looked up at him, still blinking the dust out of her eyes, and grinned.
“What is it?” she asked sweetly, summoning yet another sphere with which to harm the anxious side. Virgil soared higher into the air with a powerful beat of his wings and held the sword out threateningly.
“Can't catch me,” he said, taking her by surprise as he swooped forward. He slashed at her with the sword before pulling up, up, up into the sky, and to his surprise, she followed.
“Dragon's in the name, honey,” she yelled, following Virgil into the clouds. “You really think I couldn't follow you?” he wanted to say yes, he didn't think she would follow him, but he was happier with this development. After all, he couldn't attack the others when she was busy attacking him. Speaking of attacking him...
She launched another orb at Virgil and like the one before, it hit him right in the chest, knocking the air from his lungs and the thoughts from his head. He desperately clung to consciousness, but he could tell from the way the world seemed to spin around him that his grip was slipping.
By the time Virgil got a handle on himself, another sphere was heading his way. He swerved to the left and the orb missed his torso but hit his left wing, and fire shot down the appendage. Virgil's vision went white for a moment, though he didn't need to see to know he was falling. He clenched his eyes shut and wrenched them open again, forcing his vision to come back. He froze, watching as the dragon witch flew down towards Roman and the others.
Virgil gasped, forcing his wings to carry him again, and he sped toward the witch, sword ready for the attack. She looked up at him just in time to see his face, just in time to see the fury in his eyes. Her own eyes widened and she opened her mouth to speak, but the sword had already pierced her torso, driven out the other side by Virgil's anger.
“Don't you ever try to hurt them,” he rasped, and the witch gasped, turning to smoke beneath him. The impossibly dark mist was carried off by the wind, and in the back of his mind, Virgil knew that he had won. He had protected them, even if he had risked everything to do so.
His wings spasmed and refused to hold him up any longer, and so he fell, sword clutched to his chest and eyes drooping from exhaustion. He felt the wind rushing in his ears, saw the sky growing larger around him, the clouds shrinking above him. Soft hands met his wings and then his arms, chest, head. His eyes refused to stay open and he sighed, letting go of the sword and letting his muscles relax. They were safe. He didn't have to worry, not now.
“Sorry,” he slurred, knowing somehow that they would hear, that they needed to hear him apologize. This was his fault, wasn't it? Somehow, he had made this happen. It was his fault, and he would have to pay for it later.
The ringing in his ears grew louder, consuming him, and then it diminished, leaving him with surrounded by pitch black nothing. He leaned his head back, and then he was gone.
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lilcutieana · 7 years ago
Text
PANACEA~ 12 (ANGEL AU)
Word Count: 6.1k
Warning: angst, mentions of blood, gore, character death
Rating: 16+
Pairing: Bea x Jungkook, Taehyung x Y/N
Genre: Angst/ drama (happy ending)
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Chapter one || Chapter two || Chapter three ||
Chapter Four ||Chapter Five ||Chapter six||
Chapter Seven || Chapter Eight || Chapter Nine ||
Chapter Ten || Chapter Eleven 
Hair white and shiny as woven silk, decorated with intertwined branches of holly and olive: lips tinted red like a blossoming rose, revealing thorny teeth that shone like a pearl freshly harvested, tongue as red and juicy as a ripe tomato peeks out to lick the soft dewy rose petal like lips and cheeks pale as the first snow.
Sat upon the pinewood throne, decorated with intertwining branches of mistletoe forming a beautiful bow was the Faery Queene. She smiled secretly, her lips barely moving while a million thoughts played in her mind; a thousand and one ways to ensure her enemy bowed down before her. She was the Queen, and she will continue to be so, for millennia to come.
She had poisoned her people who went against her, including her own husband and most of the court. Humans were amusing; what they wouldn't do for a little spell of love, fame and eternal life in exchange for some iron and ammunition – deadly to the Fae kind. If only the child— an imitation of a true prince had been a good boy and stayed human like he was supposed to, but no, he had to learn of the Fae way of living and interfere.
If he agreed to overthrow the current king and be the puppet for her, ruling the land in her stead, she would spare his life. She had a lot of compassion and forgiveness for those who celebrated her, worshipped the very land she walked on. She would show him what a true queen is like. But… if he dares cross her, well… he surely won’t – if he knows what’s good for him.
Smirking, she lifted her cup of wine and waited for her trusted garden faery to enchant and bring the boy 'who outlived his life'. Garden faeries have natural seductive nature and their songs not only brought along spring to the world but mating cycles among humans and animals alike. Surely, this one human child will not escape the temptation.
Angels talked, and she knew just how to make them talk.
Taehyung. Interesting boy, he had an amulet from the Angel of death herself, preventing his soul from being targeted by anyone who wished him harm. But now that he willingly removed it, he would become the scapegoat and her ticket to having the only thorn in her path nipped. How amusing indeed.
Human relations makes you weak, and she was just going to have the most fun in centuries exploiting that. Oh, how amusing indeed, to make the angels cry and to make the Fae king bow before her. Oh, no, not king. Not just yet, he was just a Prince by birth.
Park Jimin, you have messed with the wrong Queen.
~*~
The four angels sat in a circle, huge backpacks laid at their feet filled to the brim with weapons of choice-- all made with pure iron-- with Jimin at its center. Unintentionally, yet it made sense as he was their top priority at the moment. Angels can't be killed but can be tortured and they were fine with that so long as their little Angel was okay, the Faery Prince.
Closing his eyes, with his hands placed on the Earth beneath, he murmured a song only he knew the words to, yet it made the baby hair behind everyone's neck to rise in attention. The wind picked up in speed, trees, and grass swaying along with it and their hair being whipped around. Shielding this eyes from the dust that the wind carried, the angels looked on in amazement and pride at how powerful and focused he was. Just as Jimin stopped singing and opened his eyes, the wind had all but stilled, the birds had resumed chirping and a familiar scent had filled the air. "He's here" Jimin whispered.
Raising his head, he turned around and smiled, "Hoseok. I believe you are well?" "I wouldn't have bothered coming if not, Little Prince." Bowing low, he smiled showing his sharp teeth and dropped it immediately-- a glare replacing the warmth in his eyes as he registered the company they had. The faeries despised the angels.
"You're doing a shit job at being discreet, I can smell the iron you have there." Pointing at the bags, he snarled. The skies started to turn darker as the clouds came gathering in-- thunder and lightning sparking up the skies and the Earth rumbled beneath their feet. It felt cold, too cold-- even their breath came out in white gasps like Dragon's breath. "You think I wish to harm the Prince? Nobody can harm him, not even the Queen. He is the chosen one from the ancient Gods, they would always protect him." Scoffing, he looked at Jimin with sad eyes, "But you want to kill me by summoning me here? What did I ever do to you to deserve this?" Breathing heavily, his eyes flashed and a bolt of lightning hit somewhere far in the distance, shaking the very land they stood upon.
"It's not for you. It's for safety while visiting the Fae lands. We intend to take the Queen down before she ends up destroying both Fae realm and the Human realm." Yoongi snapped from the right side of Jimin. The angels had surrounded him, lest the old Faery lose control over himself and do something rash.
"We need you to take us there hyung, without anyone else knowing," Jimin demanded, eyes flashing a bright gold momentarily, his ancient blood evident in its shine.
"Is that a royal command, my Prince?" The Fae asked with a little smile playing on his lips. The sun peeked out from beneath the dark cloud which had started to scatter and lose it's darkness bit by bit. Their skin gaining color again and the frosty temperature seemed to come back down to the pleasant warm autumn weather.
"Yes, before the end of the month it must be done. The Fae lands call for me, I accept my duties. This is a direct order from the crown Prince of the Seelie court." Jimin revealed without an ounce of hesitation in his voice, his eyes sharp and focused on the Fae minister of his father, the King of the Seelie court.
"Very well then", Hoseok nodded his head and turned to the angels with his hands clasped in glee. "You need to modify your facial features to look like Fae kind. Disguises are important after all" As soon as he said that, Y/N gasped in horror. She should have thought about that first. Of course, a disguise was of most importance. They were so focused on protecting Jimin, it had completely slipped their minds. 
Holding onto the sword they all had hanging from a thin chain on their necks, they slowly transformed themselves to have elongated ears, sharper teeth, pointed nose and almond eyes. Their clothes previously made of leather and silk was now made purely out of plant silk and cotton. The Fae took pride in being closely knit with nature, and they made sure nothing looked out of the ordinary. 
“Does this look okay?” Yoongi asked Hoseok with a frown on his face, inspecting his dark brown cotton shirt and khaki pants. 
“Perfect. You’d pass away as a commoner just right.” 
“And me?” Seokjin asked donning a white shirt open at the chest with frills running along the seams, smirking at all three of them. Jimin sighed and shook his head at the overconfident angel. 
“I think you’d be one of them, eccentric kind. Sure to draw attention and a good distraction when we need one.” Hoseok smirked at his jab to the beautiful angel who rivaled his own beauty he was so proud of in his kingdom. 
Soekjin was about to refute and defend himself, but a hand on his shoulder from Y/N stopped him from arguing further. Nodding his head he looked at the Fae and bowed. “Let us into the Unseelie court please. We have a Queen to meet.” 
Raising his hand, Hoseok formed a circular gesture with his wrist that formed a small mirror like surface floating in the middle of the field they were standing on. As he stepped back, the mirror grew bigger and bigger, hovering in the air right where it was made, the surface highly reflective, yet blurred everything that could be seen on it. 
"What on earth is that?" Exclaimed Jin, stepping back from where he stood with the backpack clutched tightly into his hands for defense. 
"This is the portal, come let's get in." With a backward glance at the angels and a nod to Jimin, he walked forward with fast, determined steps and passed straight through the mirror. 
"Did he just----" Seokjin sputtered pointing at the hovering portal. He was flabbergasted but mostly amazed. While he was used to using wormholes, this new portal was much cooler. Well, it looked cooler, he didn't know how it actually felt. 
"Yes, yes he did." Y/N replied smiling excitedly. She was all about adventures, and this was exactly what she came to Earth for. Some excitement in her mundane schedule. 
Holding onto Yoongi's hand and clasping his fingers tightly, Jimin dragged him by the hand towards the portal and touched the surface with his fingers. The surface of the mirror trembled like water and formed ripples. 
Stepping back, he made an appreciative sound that all four angels echoed back. This time, instead of just touching, he followed Hoseok's example and just walked through it, disappearing into the mirror as if it were a door dragging a very uncooperative Yoongi behind him, who tried his best to protest by dragging his feet in the grass below while clutching onto the straps of his backpack. Yet, everyone knew he was only putting up a front. If there was anyone who wanted to get rid of the enemy, it would be Yoongi. He liked things simple and always worked hard to remove each and every obstacle from its root before it could become a weed. 
Right after they disappeared, Seokjin stepped back, shaking his head he raised his hands in front of him. "No. I'm not going through--that-- that thing-- it eats people up! How can you be so sure it's not a trick? You know how tricky the seelie people are behind their civilized behavior ". 
Why wouldn't anyone understand where he was coming through? Everyone trusted Jimin and that minister blindly. Jimin--- was understandable, they'd spent ten years together. But Hoseok? No way! He was sketchy from the get-go. He was the eldest for Christ's sake. Why'd no one believed him? 
"Look, you're the Angel of death, you defy rules all of the time. You want to go? Fine! But not me. I'll be in a whole world of trouble if I followed you all down that mirror or rabbit hole or whatever. I hate this!" 
"And here I thought you'd be bravest of us all. It's okay, an adult is needed with the kids. Go stay behind." Shrugging her shoulders, Y/N walked forward with her bag in her arms and slung it over her shoulder. Once she had her back to him completely, she let her smile slip. She knew, just ten seconds and he'd follow. The eldest Angel just had a penchant for throwing tantrums every now and then. 
With every confident step forward that she took, his heart beat faster, thrumming like a hummingbird inside a cage made of bones. He was scared, he realized, but not for himself. He was scared for her. Once she crossed the boundary, there will be no coming back. He knew death will follow, but he knew her better-- she hated to be the cause of someone else's death. With no choice than to follow her, to support her, he took a deep breath and shook his hands, hoping it would help to shake off his nerves. Not that it ever worked, and it didn't this time either. 
Grunting, he followed behind her and picked his own camping bag, lugging it over his shoulder as she stood mesmerized in front of the hovering mirror that reflected them-- yet they weren't recognizable enough. The reflection was distorted at best. Holding her hand and intertwining their fingers, he licked his dry lips and gulped. Tugging her forward he closed his eyes and walked until he felt his breath being taken away literally. It felt like he was underwater, even walking was difficult with how dense it had been. 
One more step and he was able to breathe again. Taking huge gulps of air, he fell on his knees with a loud thud and soon Y/N collapsed behind him. Opening his eyes, he tried standing up, but the dizzy feeling hadn’t subsided yet and he fell again. Groaning, he looked above at the dark sky. Despite it being night time, the sky was clear and had millions of stars shining back at them. If only humans hadn’t cluttered their own realm, they could see this majestic view. Scrambling onto his feet he rushed towards her and was soon followed by Jimin and Yoongi opening her boots, rubbing her soles. She was unconscious and barely breathing. It was all his fault. He shouldn’t have suddenly dragged her along with him. 
Looking around, he spotted a lot of plans growing around that had all colors of the rainbow and were huge in size. None of the plants looked like anything in the human realm or the heavens above. Looking at Hoseok, he gestured around him. “Know anything of help?” 
Despite there being two moons that shone above brightly and huge flowers that bloomed with a sweet scent, all of them focused on the dark angel with onyx wings laid upon the dark green grass dotted with purple flowers. 
“Of course I do, but it’s the little Prince who should help her. Don’t ask for favors you cannot return, Guardian of humans.” Pointing at Jimin, he smiled in encouragement. 
Reciprocating his smile, Jimin got up and walked away from them. Half turning on his way, he hollered back, “I’ll fetch some herbs that’ll wake her right up!” 
~*~
 The dark red and brown themed room with wooden walls and polished wood flooring was now lit with little rose shaped candles that smelled faintly of oranges and cinnamon. The many shadows cast upon the walls by the tiny figurines placed in the room together formed some of the very grotesque and horrifying images to the already shaking human tied up and gagged on the four poster bed draped in red silk and white lace curtains from above forming a halo around him. Naked from the waist up, his skin was flushed and bared countless claw marks with dried blood on his skin like flower buds ready to bloom. 
A woman with white hair that reflected the moonlight and shimmered in its presence, walked towards her bed dressed in all white, like a human bride on her wedding night, on which laid a human teen whose arms were tied up with twine dipped in venom that seeped through his cuts and mixed with his blood. As she stood at the edge of her own bed, the Human begged her with his eyes not to come any closer. His eyes had dark circles and lips chapped and a sickly blue. The poison had started to take effect on him, slowly disintegrating his blood and destroying his nerves until his stopped on its own. "Tell me child, have you had enough lashings?" Her soft voice crooned by his ear, licking it for good measure. "Are you ready to tell me where your friends are?" 
Jerking away from her touch, he whimpered and drooled saliva through his mouth gagged with her lace scarf. Shaking his head, he begged again with teary eyes. "Oops. Seems like I misjudged your ability to speak, Taehyung." Dragging her elongated nails along his collarbones to his navel, she watched as he shivered and sucked in his stomach, making his ribs jut out. Smirking, she dragged her nails along his happy trail towards his pants when all of a sudden she stopped with a scowl on her face. 
She hated being interrupted in her fun. This was truly funny how the one he wanted wouldn’t pay her any attention yet he denied the attention of any other female except the only angel who had gifted him with life instead of taking it. The irony wasn’t lost on her. 
The rhythmic thudding of footsteps with a progressive staccato could be heard racing down the hall, stopping the Queen in her tracks. She had ordered one and all to specifically leave her be. She needed to know all there was to know about this boy who had managed to not just evade death but somehow had the Angel of death wrapped around his pinky too. She needed his secret and needed it fast. 
While the garden Faery had failed in her mission to seduce him to the point of incoherence and bring him back to the land of Fae, he had willingly followed her here. Begged the faery even to take him to where his angel had gone leaving him behind. The poor sod had no clue what he was getting himself into. Had he known he’d walk into his own deathbed, perhaps he wouldn’t have chosen to come along. 
Or maybe…that was his plan all along. If he couldn’t be with the angel of death in life, he shall be with her in his death. Smiling to herself she waited for whoever it was that dared to come into her chambers and intrude upon her fun times. 
The door burst open revealing a bunch of leaves arranged like a silhouette of a woman. On closer inspection, she had all the facial features of a woman too- eyes, nose, lips- all made out of leaves of different shapes and shades. 
"The Seelie Prince has come and he isn't alone, your highness" The moment she spoke up, she screwed her emerald green eyes shut and waited for her punishment for defying orders, her body trembled in fear and her leaves had started to lose its shine. The Queen tilted her head and contemplated her words, a slow smile spread across her cheeks but her eyes didn't seem as happy despite the smile she had. 
"What does he want here?" She spoke through gritted teeth while maintaining her smile that did nothing to calm the dryad. Taking a step back, she looked behind at me and jerked back in surprise when the Queen raised her hand to comb her fingers through her hair, a permanent glare set on the dryad. 
"Well?" Urging the faery who served her court, she tapped her feet trying not to burn her at the spot. She'd miss valuable information if she did. 
"He requested an audience with your highness," she said with another bow. Gritting her teeth, the Queen glared at the dryad until she raised her head and met her emerald eyes with the graphite ones. 
"You've quite the beautiful eyes, a courtesan. It would be a true shame if it were to be taken away, no?" The Queen asked circling the dryad, who averted her eyes and shook her head. 
"No, your majesty." Widening her eyes, she realized her mistake. "I mean, yes, your majesty, it would be a shame" In one swift movement, the Queen had her fingers deep into the tree Faerie's eye sockets. White blood seeped through her fingers and dropped to her clothes. Yanking her hand back, she had two little dark green opaque spheres with transparent emerald green circles for irises. 
"Huh, not as pretty to be kept." Wrinkling her nose in disgust, she glared at the dryad now writhing in pain with twin black hollow spheres where her eyes used to be, seeping translucent white sap. The Queen’s hand slowly turned as red as her lips and amber flames erupted through her palm burning the eyes that saw her with Taehyung on the bed. 
Holding the palm with the molten eyeballs, she dropped them on the dryad who screamed in agony as she caught on fire-- her whole body made out of leaves, twigs and vines-- burning-- like a campfire while the Queen laughed and laughed at her misery. Running out of the Queen's chambers she screamed and wailed to be saved but all of the guards and courtesans averted their eyes and plugged their ears instead. Nobody wished to get in between the Queen and her petty punishments. 
Running and running blindly the dryad reached the end of the corridor that extended into a balcony. She ran through it and fell straight into the semi-frozen pool with sirens and water sprites in them. Before the Queen could reach there, the water sprites came to her one by one and with spouts of water being pushed onto her burnt body, she healed little by little. At last, one of the sirens hummed a song and she came back to consciousness. Her eyes had been formed again, though not as brilliantly shining as before. It had dulled to a murky green now. 
The Fae Prince along with four other angels stood with their mouth gaping open like a fish out of water in front of the dryad that was being healed. Pulling her out of water, Seokjin turned to Jimin, "What now?" 
Once they stepped in front of the Royal Palace of the Unseelie Queene, Hoseok had left matters into the hands of Jimin and took his leave. He promised to bring back a complete arsenal of soldiers at Jimin's-- the future Fae king's-- disposal. However, Jimin refused all help and proclaimed that he was only there to make a request and claim what belongs to him. It was not the Fae who claimed the lands, but the lands who chose their ruler. 
She had destroyed the Fae lands and polluted it. She'd shed blood of those who were innocent and kind and brought in human filth that had no place in the Fae realm. He had nothing against her at all. If anything he understood, there must have been a grave emergency for her to take those measures. But surely, there must have been other ways to go about it. It wasn’t too late yet. If they talked, surely a solution could be drawn. But if it was a war she wanted, he will not back down. The land was calling out to him, and it was time he answered the call in front of a big audience. 
Jimin crouched down beside her and held her face in his hands. Kissing her eyelids, he pulled back and watched satisfied as her eyes sparkled like gems under the sun. She smiled in gratitude and the whole courtyard of the Royal Palace suddenly went shock still. Not even the water dared to make a sound in the pool. 
Following their gazes to the balcony, Jimin was shocked to see the Faery Queen. She was decked in all white from her hair to her crown, her dress and even her jewelry- everything was white, making her look paler than she was, or perhaps she was already just as pale. 
“Now we know she’s not worth talking to. We are outnumbered here and must play our cards right.” Whispered Jimin which was heard loud and clear by the Angels who stood behind him like a protective shield. 
Her crown was made of bones and white flowers, her necklace and white silk-like hair adorned with white orchids, or what looked like orchids—were faeries who sat atop her hair and coiled around her neck, their beady eyes watching every move and whispering words of advice to the Queen. She wore a thin chiton made of the finest white silk held together below her bosom by the golden scarf. Bangles made out of conch shells decorated her wrists and ears. Her grey eyes fixed in a glare upon the Fae prince who dared to enter her palace without prior notice. 
She wanted to torture his friend a bit more before inviting him and making him beg to release his friend of the spell she put on him. She meant to slowly turn Taehyung into one of their own—so he would never be accepted into the human realm anymore, neither be accepted as one of the Fae and wish to end his life to escape the misery that was sure to follow him for not accepting the affections of the Queen. 
A pity, he had been such a bad boy, she just had to poison him. He was not worth the risk of betrayal that was sure to follow. His soul was pure and he would never close his eyes to the many wrongs that went on in her kingdom. She couldn’t risk him rebelling against her, no matter how fun and exhilarating that option was. 
With a smirk and an elegant bow, the Queen descended the stairs one at a time, and the court awed at her ethereal beauty that could rival every human to ever exist. Her upturned cat-like eyes twinkled under the moonlight and little moonflowers grew on the path that she walked upon. Halting in front Jimin, she tilted her head.
Kneeling in front of her, he raised her hand to his lips and kissed her dewy fingers. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my Queen." Raising on his own feet, he could scent the faint fragrance of frangipani and Jasmine waft from the Queen. He imagined her to be more-- cruel looking and ugly--for the things she had done. Never would he have imagined a soul so evil to look so innocent and pure. He wondered what went wrong for her to opt those ways of living. 
"For a child of ten human years, you look far more grown up than you should." She observed, her dainty fingers touching his cheeks and smiling in appreciation. A child or not, she would not mind showing him the Royal Fae way of living-- lust, leisure and luxury. He would be the perfect toy to own, to mould him to her shape and preferences. He would know nothing but her, she would be his entire world. Oh how wonderful it would be. 
"I can't sense Taehyung for two days, it's weird but now in here, I feel his presence stronger than ever before. But our connection is fading away, its like he is very sick—I can feel our bond weaken." Murmured Yoongi to Seokjin who was looking at Y/N worriedly. 
"How can you feel Taehyung, of all people, in here of all places? You sure it isn't you wanting to escape, is it?" Jested Seokjin nudging Yoongi by the ribs. 
With a scowl, Y/N turned her glare towards the two angels fighting amongst themselves, effectively shutting them up. Turning around she focused on the Queen. "Greetings, your Highness. I'm Azriel. I believe growing up among Angels made him perceive the world a bit differently than more humans." Y/N bit back a reply through a smile that looked more of a grimace. 
"Ah, the Angel of death herself. How do you find my kingdom, if I may ask?" Directing her gaze to Y/N, the Queen watched her with an appreciative gaze that darkened when they landed on her dark black wings. She detested black things, they reminded her of her childhood. 
“Its absolutely beautiful. As beautiful as the Queen herself. Makes me want to stay in here forever instead.” Y/N bowed to the Queen, but deep within, they both knew what she truly meant. Ignoring her jab, she focused her gaze back onto Jimin. She needed his power that made her skin tingle and mouth water. She needed him on her side. 
"May I ask what brings you here in this kingdom?" The Queen asked trying to divert her mind from thinking of the past that existed no more. Seokjin stepped forward and stood beside Jimin proudly. Jimin smiled knowing he had his hyung's complete support. Breathing in, he contemplated how to best voice his concerns. 
"I wanted to visit the lands is all and greet the Queen who I heard wanted to see me. Instead of making you travel all the way to the human realm, I thought I'd come see you instead." Jimin replied, his voice smug and confident. 
"I still think something happened to Taehyung" whispered Yoongi from behind Y/N and focusing on his energy, he vanished into thin air. The Queen knew just where the silver haired Angel had vanished into. Despite their Fae clothing and elvish looks, their sword necklaces revealed their true nature. Enraged, she glared at the angels and the Prince. 
"You come into my home unannounced and dare to enter inside without my permission?" "Guards!" She screamed and pointed at them. "Surround them and hold them captive. An angel has entered my room. Capture him too." None of the trees, vines or selkies moved. Furious, she ordered again, "I said--- get them! It's a direct order from your Queen!" 
Yoongi came rushing out of the balcony with a bleeding Taehyung in his arms. "He's losing his life force! Seokjin help me!"
 "How dare you come into my palace and take away my plaything!" Her eyes flashed into molten silver and a vine detached from the balcony and wrapped itself around Yoongi's throat. Unable to breathe, Yoongi dropped Taehyung from his arms while his face progressively became purple with the lack of air. Another vine detached from the balcony and held onto Taehyung mid-air. Gently dropping him in front of the Queen while little thorns grew all around Jimin, Y/N and Seokjin. 
"Guards!" The Queen screamed again and the thorns started growing taller, effectively restraining them in one place. "Tell me, should I publically make an example of what happens when you try to outsmart me or let you go, in hopes you shall never return again?" She addressed Y/N, knowing how she felt about the human boy who she had poisoned right before coming down the stairs. She couldn't be bothered with him when he didn't give in to her seduction. 
Raising her hand, the Queen closed her eyes for a moment and the vines that had wrapped themselves around Yoongi instantly retreated back and coiled around the marble balcony railings. There was no point wasting her energy and power on an angel that could never be killed. None of the Fae or the land responded to her calls and she had to use her own power to move things her way. Was Jimin that powerful to have claimed a land that had not been his to claim at all? How could he claim her throne away from her? She would kill the bastard child before it could sit on the throne she protected all her life. 
Yoongi fell from the balcony straight into the pool below as the vines grabbing onto him retreated back and sank underwater. The water sprites carried him to the edge and retreated back into the pool, where he coughed out water and collapsed on the grass instantly. Breathing heavy, he tried to feel his bond with Taehyung and was shocked to find it weaken further. How was it even possible? 
Gasping out loud he realized, Y/N was no more in her feline form, concealing her powers and without the necklace, if she went anywhere near Taehyung, he would die instantly, what with the poison already weakening his heart and body. 
Jimin had had enough of her playing with his family and crouching down he took one fistful of the sand and closing his eyes started slowly humming a song in the ancient Fae tongue. The Earth shook and groaned beneath, skies changing to absolute darkness and covering the moon behind the thick clouds. The thorns that surrounded them like a cage now began to head towards the Queen in the same rhythm he was singing. 
One of the thorns pierced right through her throat and a second one went straight in between her brows. A third vine went past her chest and slowly they attacked the queen one after the other. Now that the angels were no longer surrounded by the thorns, they both rushed straight to Taehyung’s side who was taking his few last breaths. 
“Taehyung-ah…” Y/N started as soon as she kneeled beside him. Taking his head softly on her lap, she tried to take away the stray hair from over his eyes and caressed his cheeks softly with trembling hands. She knew he was a human and had a short life. She knew. Yet she had let herself fall in love. She tried so hard to distance herself from him. But was it all worth it? Of course not! She should have listened to Yoongi and had the most of the present when she could. 
“You can’t die like this. You can’t die on me!” shaking him she sobbed with a hand over her lips trying to conceal her sorrow from the world. She was the angel of death, dealing with a thousand deaths every day. Then why would she cry over a single mortal? Insane…wasn’t it? 
Even the screams of the Fae queen behind her did not faze her one bit. 
"We all return back to the earth, Y/N. It's okay if we couldn't be together. I have no regrets." Coughing up blood, he screwed his eyes shut and winced. Holding onto his throat he breathed heavier with an open mouth. 
"Death comes to us all, sooner or later. I have no regrets, none at all." Straining his voice, even his veins popped out by his neck, he opened his eyes, smiling faintly up at the dark Angel who saved his life the first night he saw her. "I have lived my life happily, I have my memories of you, so don't worry, I'll be okay. I'll always love you" With one last breath his eyes had lost its spark and despite the warmth of his skin, he had turned blue from the poison running through his veins. 
"No! Taehyung! Don't say that! You'll live" softly tapping his cheek, she wiped the teardrop that fell onto his forehead. She was crying? Why was she crying? She never cried. "You can't give up like this. You're not supposed to die so soon. You promised me!" 
Yoongi screamed clutching onto his heart as he felt his bond with Taehyung break. Getting up on his knees he looked towards where Y/N sat with tears streaming down her face, eyes vacant and lost, clutching onto Taehyung tightly against her chest as his blood soaked her pale blue dress. He knew the moment Taehyung had given away his necklace that he wanted to die if death were to come for him. He didn't want to be protected by the Angel when she didn't even love him back enough to choose him over her pride.
Yoongi wanted the Angel to fall in love with Taehyung. He wanted her to witness the death of a loved one and feeling just as helpless as he felt watching his parents die in her hands. But now that his hidden desires had come true, he loathed himself forever wishing that on her. She was far from innocent, yet she had feelings, unlike the other Angels. Instead of feeling satisfied from his revenge, he felt like he was the darkness and hated himself for causing her pain and grief. 
Clutching onto the grass, he ripped a fist full of it and threw it somewhere far away, screaming in agony. Why? Why did he have to die now? He didn't deserve to die. The kid was so pure and innocent. His soul so kind and forgiving. What kind of a guardian was he? He didn't even think twice before rushing to the Fae kingdom without taking proper measures to protect Taehyung. He was his assigned guardian and he couldn't even protect the kid! 
He watched astonished as the skies rumbled and the thorns started receding into the ground below and Jimin collapsed into Seokjin's arms. The castle cracked and fell to the ground along with Queen who had turned into a white marble statue in the middle of the whole garden. The Fae people who surrounded the castle huddled and started running away scared for their lives as rain started to fall from the skies above. 
Y/N got up with Taehyung in her arms and walked towards the pool, setting him by the edge. Picking up a handful of water, she let him drink a sip and murmured a chant to protect his soul. She wouldn’t, couldn’t ever claim his soul. She’d call upon Uriel to assign someone else for the task. Jimin was safe, and so was Seokjin. She had nothing left here to do anymore. Looking back at the chaos behind, she smiled faintly and clutching her sword that hung from her neck, vanished into thin air.
Chapter one || Chapter two || Chapter three ||
Chapter Four ||Chapter Five ||Chapter six||
Chapter Seven || Chapter Eight || Chapter Nine ||
Chapter Ten || Chapter Eleven
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shadowphoenixrider · 7 years ago
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Azsuna Awaits (3/7)
(A chapter up in under a couple of weeks?! Sacrilege! Anyway, enjoy this chapter! Paging the usual folk: @highpriestessbriyanna, @galleywinter, @sigurdjarlson, @fer8girl, @elfgirl931)
(Previous chapter)
“This does not look good.” Khadgar muttered grimly as they walked into the Repose. “He does not look well.”
The great ancient dragon that had to be Senegos was laying in a large pool of mana water, surrounded by his kin and Stellagosa. He was an immense creature, similar in size to Malygos, with six pairs of horns made entirely of ice on his head (with one on his nose), and thick, dark cream fur down his neck and forming a long beard under his chin and down under his neck, drifting in the pool’s water. His wings were folded against his body, but even from here, Draggka could see the large icicles that had formed on the ends of his wing ‘fingers’, and that the membranes between them were so friable and tattered, it was clear that the dragon would never fly again without magic. The troll had never even considered a dragon could grow so old to lose the ability to fly, and she’d seen the Dragon Aspects. How old is he?
Stellagosa had taken her mortal form, which was of a high elf with long sky blue hair, and she glanced anxiously over to them as they approached.
“What is happening here?” Khadgar asked, looking over to Senegos. His eyes were half-open and dull, and every breath he took wheezed with effort. Draggka’s heart panged to see such a great creature reduced to this, and Spike uttered a soft whine in sympathy.
“I don’t know.” Stellagosa said. “He was like this when I got here. I’ve never seen my grandfather like this before.” She hesitated, her long ears dropping. “I...I think he’s...” She trailed off.
“Dying.” The archmage finished, softly. “Senegos is quite possibly the oldest dragon alive, by the looks of him. We cannot simply let him slip away.” He tilted his head a moment, like a bird. Draggka noticed his eyes glaze over for a couple of seconds, as if his gaze had momentarily turned inwards. “There is something not quite right with the magical energy here. Can you feel it too, Stellagosa?”
The elf-dragon glanced away, her long ears shifting back up as she frowned, blue eyes glazing over much the same way Khadgar’s had done.
“It does feel strange.” She agreed. “The power coming from the leylines shouldn’t feel as choppy as this.” Her frown deepened. “They weren’t like this before. Something’s happened to them.”
“I thought so.” Khadgar nodded. “Good to know I’m not going senile, but we’ll have to investigate later. First things first, we must buy your grandfather more time.” He took a deep breath, and the troll felt the air around her twirl and thrill as the arcane was drawn towards the mage, shimmering around his body and concentrated into his hands. Khadgar stretched his hand out then, the arcane rushing from him towards the frail elder dragon in a stream of pure energy. Senegos took a deep breath, and blew out a equally deep sigh, as the magic was drawn into his body. His eyes seemed to brighten, and whilst his breaths were still quite ragged, Draggka could tell that they were coming easier now.
“The leylines are the cause of the potent energies of this place, and probably why Senegos and his brood settled here.” Khadgar explained, answering her unasked questions. “I can use them to channel energy into Senegos to help stabilize him without exhausting myself. But I will still need your help.” He gestured with his spare hand. “Some of the leylines’ power becomes crystallised in rocks close to the surface, and they retain the power even when pulled from the ground. If you could could collect some and throw them into the mana pool, the resulting power should buy Senegos a few more breaths. I spotted some caves over there as we came down the hill; I’d suggest starting there.”
Draggka nodded, her brows drawing together grimly.
“Dat sounds like a plan. I’ll do dat.”
Senegos groaned then, catching their attention. He tilted his head very slightly towards them, catching them both in his gaze.
“I know why you are here, small ones...” He breathed, voice low and weary. “Please...help...”
Draggka’s ears drooped at the pain in his voice, Khadgar’s silver brows knotting together in sympathy too.
“We be doing everyting we can.” She replied, before hurrying off towards the caves, where a steady stream of whelplings were flying from, mana crystals clutched in their tiny claws. They would drop their cargo into the pool, before wheeling back for more, completely ignoring the troll.
Draggka followed them into the cave, her fur prickling against her skin as the arcane thickened in the air. She might have only been a hunter with only enough of a grip to enchant her arrows with those energies, but even she could feel the effect of the leylines bleeding into the rocks and air around her. She wondered what it was like for Khadgar. He could clearly sense them, and they were allowing him to keep Senegos alive without draining him, but else was it doing to him? She had noticed there had been a slight spring to his step as they’d gotten closer to the Repose...
Spike’s sudden snarl broke her from her thoughts as crystal worms suddenly burst from the ground around her, their floating crystals glowing brightly, and emitting menacing, unearthly noises.
“Ugh.” Draggka grimaced, nocking an arrow. “I had enough of these assholes in Deepholm.”
The raptor charged the crystalline creatures, crushing the animate crystals between his jaws whilst his companion smashed the others with her dagger and well-placed arrows, though their rotating ‘teeth’ tore into her armour, causing considerable gashes in the mail.
There was an upside to this attack, however. The crystals the worms were made of were rich in ley energy, and Draggka gathered as much of the large pieces as she could before hurrying back to the pool. As soon as she reached the bank, the troll dumped the whole load into the water, the minerals fizzing brightly as they struck the liquid, dissolving instantly. To her relief, Senegos let out a loud moan of relief, and the dragon shifted his position to a more comfortable one.
“Thank you, both of you.” Stellagosa said as Draggka rejoined her and Khadgar. “Your efforts dull his pain.” She sighed. “Call me a fool. I’d always just thought grandfather would be with us forever...”
“Ya not be a fool.” Draggka murmured softly. “We all tink dat of our family. We tink dey be invincible. It be...we not be so innocent aftawards.” Her ears drooped. “But I can’t imagine what it be like fer you. To be livin’ so long, den to see dis...” A pause. “I be sorry.”
“It’s alright. But thank you.” Stellagosa replied. Draggka felt eyes on her then, and when she glanced over, she noticed Khadgar was watching her thoughtfully. They’d not spoken too deeply of their pasts to one another; neither had pried into the snippets of information the other was given. As much as they could glean from the other was that they’d both had parents, yet now those parents were no more. The troll wondered if and when they’d get the time to discuss such things, if they even wanted to.
Senegos lifted his large head up towards them then, blowing a breath out of his nose that did not sound like a wheeze, more an actual breath.
“You seek...one of the Pillars of Creation.” He spoke, strength returning to his voice.
“Yes.” Khadgar replied with a nod, causing his stream of magic to ‘bounce’ slightly. “We know one is here on Azsuna. Do you know where it is?”
“You speak of the...Tidestone of Golganneth...” His next breath shuddered with pain, and he had to rest his head back down into the pool.
“Rest now, grandfather.” Stellagosa said, rubbing a hand over his massive muzzle. “You must save your energy.”
“Don’t be so eager to mourn, starlight.” Senegos replied, eyes opening to regard her. “Give me this one last adventure.”
As this was happening, Draggka suddenly became aware of Spike headbutting her side insistently. When she looked to him, she saw that a small blue whelpling was perched on his head, bright, golden eyes staring back at the hunter.
The whelpling made a wheezy chirp, jerking its head to the north east before it fluttered off in the same direction. After a brief glance at her companion, Draggka set off after the whelpling, following it towards a large, burly dragonspawn, whose arms were full with small bodies. He barked out something in the guttural, hissing tongue of Draconic, before he caught sight of the troll.
“Hail, hunter.” He spoke in Common, though his accent was thick. “I am Agapanthus. I don’t know why you are here, but we could use your aid.” He lowered his arms to show that the bodies were four whelplings, weak and barely moving, their eyes closed or slightly open. The whelpling from before, hovering nearby, uttered a shrill cry which only echoed the pain that flashed through Draggka’s heart.
“An onslaught of withered elves have assaulted the whelplands, and though my troops are defending them as best as we can, these four were not so lucky. They are near death, and need to be treated with ley crystal immediately. Their lives are of the utmost importance, as they may be some of the last whelplings Senegos can rear.”
The last? Draggka thought, but didn’t say. This was not the time to ask questions.
“I be Draggka. ‘Course I will help ya.” She nodded. The little whelpling chirped again, jerking its head in the ‘follow me’ gesture. It led the hunter and her raptor to a cave behind Agapanthus, filled with humming crystals and mana wyrms hovering lazily nearby. The troll frowned.
“Dese be different to da ones I be giving to Senegos.” She murmured, watching the whelpling. “What do ya want me to do?”
The whelp fluttered to a crystal, taking it in its paws and giving it a tug, flapping away when one of the wyrms turned and hissed at it. Spike snarled at the wyrm, which flared its head frills menacingly at the raptor, neatly distracting it as the hunter pulled the crystal from the ground. The wyrm didn’t take too kindly to that, however, and launched itself at Draggka, only to get caught in Spike’s jaws and unceremoniously crushed and devoured. The whelpling proceeded to pick out other crystals, which Draggka would then extract, and Spike would munch away at any mana wyrm that attempted to attack them.
Four ley crystals now in tow, she hurried back to Agapanthus, wondering how she’d manage to get the energies into the tiny dragons. She thought back to when she was in Karazhan and Khadgar’s instructions; perhaps that was how to do it. The troll tried it for the first whelpling the dragonspawn offered her; concentrating power into her hand and out to the crystal, then pulling it out and to the whelpling. It seemed to work, as tendrils of whitish blue magic arched out from the crystal into the small creature, and luckily they took over from there, greedily draining the crystal dry. Colour brightened the little one’s sky blue scales and yellow eyes, and it took flight with a thankful chirrup-bark.
The next two whelplings recovered in much the same way, but the fourth did not. There was brightening of colour of its scales, but the whelp merely coughed, wheezing a plaintive mew that pricked tears at Draggka’s eyes. Agapanthus sighed.
“Ahh...I feared we might lose that one,” he said softly. “He was so weak when I found him.” He held the whelp out to Draggka. “Take him to Senegos. I must return to my keepers, before we are overrun.”
The whelpling barely weighed anything as Draggka took him into her arms, and there was no resistance to her handling. Spike’s soft whine described exactly how she felt, and she gathered the little creature close to her chest, hoping maybe her body heat could give it a few more minutes.
“Hold on, little one. Let’s be getting you to ya father,” she murmured, not knowing if the whelp could understand her, but praying it could at least sense the meaning in her words. The hunter moved as quickly as she dared, trying not to jostle the whelp in case she hurt it further.
Senegos seemed to sense that something was wrong, and he lifted his head with more speed than Draggka expected in his current state, causing Khadgar and Stellagosa to jump and follow his gaze.
“Another Nightfallen attack?” Senegos said, his blue eyes settling on the bundle in Draggka’s arms, and his thick eyebrows furrowing. “Bring my child to me, young one.”
As Draggka came closer, Khadgar’s expression contorted with pain, closing his eyes as if warding off tears, and Stellagosa covered her mouth with her hands, uttering a soft :
“Oh no. Not again.”
The hunter tenderly lifted the frail whelpling up to Senegos, the dragon nuzzling the small creature with great care, despite his size. The whelp opened its eyes to meet its father’s, and it rattled out a soft, plaintive wheeze. In that moment, Draggka felt the life fade from the whelpling’s body. She bit her lip almost hard enough to draw blood to hold back the tears that stung at her eyes, watching a blurry Senegos close his eyes and utter a deep, mournful rumble that seemed to quieten the entire Repose. Both Khadgar and Stellagosa glanced down in respect, though the mage pinched his eyes with his spare hand, trying to suppress his own tears.
“Cedonu.” Senegos spoke, his eyes opening once more; they were older, full of sorrow.
A dragonspawn walked over to them, looking up at their patron from under their helmet.
“Yes, Senegos?”
“Please lay my child to rest with the others.”
Draggka’s heart panged painfully, her ears drooping as she wiped her tears away. How many has he lost?
“Of course.” Cedonu bowed his head, taking the whelpling from the troll’s hands and walking off with the body cradled in their arms. She wondered idly where the dragonspawn was going. She knew the dragons flew to the Dragonblight to die, but what of the whelplings, who couldn’t survive such a journey? Was there a way to take them there? She shook her head to dismiss the thought.
“Of course those withered devils would attack now.” Senegos hissed, shifting in his pool angrily, but still too weak to show much more of his displeasure. “They couldn’t have chosen a more effective time to strike. My brood already suffers.” He sighed a long sigh, calming himself. “Stellagosa.” He tilted his head towards the elf. “Do me one last favour. Your younger brothers and sisters need your help. Go to Agapanthus. Help him.”
Stellagosa nodded, wiping away her own tears.
“Of course.” She hesitated a moment, before she threw her arms around Senegos’ huge muzzle, resting her head against it. “Farewell, grandfather.” She pulled away and quickly ran off, not looking back even as she shifted back into her drake form.
“See you soon, starlight.” Senegos murmured after her.
A brief silence settled, in which Draggka and Khadgar exchanged looks, unsure what to say next, if anything. Draggka decided to venture first.
“I...Senegos, I be sorry dat I couldn’t-” She began.
“It was not your fault.” The dragon interrupted her. “My child was beyond help if a ley crystal could not have roused him.” He shifted his head in Khadgar’s direction, as if sensing the mage opening his mouth to interject. “You are already doing enough to keep me alive. Do not take that burden on yourself either.”
Another long sigh, and Senegos addressed them both.
“There is no denying it. We need help. Since the fall of Deathwing, we dragons have lost nearly all of our power. To make matters worse, we can no longer bear eggs. My whelplings are the last of the last.”
Draggka’s ears dropped as far as they could go, and she met Khadgar’s equally alarmed look. Agapanthus had spoke the truth then; she just couldn’t believe it, didn’t want to believe it. That the dragons, once keepers of the many forces of Azeroth, creatures that she both feared and admired, and had won the trust of in Northrend...that they were essentially dying. One day they would be gone, only memories and bones remaining. The thought made her feel empty, and somewhat sick.
Khadgar himself looked paler than before, and completely flabbergasted.
“I...We didn’t know. Kalec, he...I know the blue dragonflight had disbanded, but he never said anything about this...” The mage spoke, sounding as empty as the hunter felt. Spike nuzzled into her hand for comfort, grounding her in the now.
“He would not have known at first.” Senegos explained. “At first, the odd egg wouldn’t hatch. Unfortunate, but not unusual. Then our clutches became smaller. And now there are no eggs at all. As you can imagine, we still have enemies, and so we are not likely to advertise it to others. Not even our friends.”
“Then why tell us?” Khadgar asked.
“Stellagosa told me that you saved her from the Burning Legion when she went to investigate their new...nest on the islands. And you are giving your power to keep me alive, and help my children. I would say you have earned our trust.” Another sigh. “Please, help defend my whelplands, and I will tell you everything I know of the Tidestone.”
“Indeed.” Khadgar nodded. “Whilst I am a little indisposed, Draggka can go in my stead, yes?" He smiled at her, eyes sparkling with magic and fondness. “I doubt she’d need my help anyway.”
Spike made a soft huffing snort, looking up at Draggka earnestly, and reminding her of their plan earlier.
“Are ya sure, Khadgar? Remember dat Cordana might still be huntin’ us...”
“I know.” The mage nodded. “But it’s a risk we must take. Besides, you have Spike. You will be just fine.” He smiled down at the raptor, who would have preened, had he real feathers that weren’t decorations he’d collected.
“Okay.” Draggka nodded. “Jus’, keep an eye out fer her.” She felt the need to reach out to Khadgar, but she stopped herself, not knowing whether to reveal their relationship to Senegos.
A smile pulled at the lips of the great dragon for the first time that day.
“You are kind small things,” he said. “Thank you. Whilst you are in the Repose, my brood will protect you from any and all that would harm you. This, I promise.” He turned his head. “Follow Stellagosa, up the road to the east. It will lead you to the whelplings. Please, help my flight as best as you can.”
“I will, I promise you dat.” Draggka holding her fist to her chest to swear it. “An’ tank you fer protecting Khadgar. I see ya later, Archmage.”
“Of course.” The wizard nodded, smiling. “Good hunting, and come back to us soon.”
Draggka bowed her head to them.
“Lok’tar.”
And with that, she turned and jogged out of the Repose.
Khadgar watched as Draggka left, trying not to let the inner doubts about his decision show up on his face. Any other time, he would have been certain that being under the protection of dragons would guarantee his safety.
But now, knowing that they were now unable to bear young and that Cordana was hunting him, empowered by the Legion, doubts started to creep in.
He remembered the times the Garona from the alternate Draenor had attempted to assassinate him with startling clarity. The first time he'd had warning, but the second time...the second time he’d only survived because Draggka had managed to chase the half-orc down in time and get him the antidote.
Cordana knew this, of course. Though they had not been close, she’d seen how Khadgar had protected himself from the first attempt by sealing himself in a thick block of ice. She’d seen that he could be caught off guard and almost killed. She’d seen how Draggka had fought, and that Spike’s vigilance could be circumvented.
That and she was a Warden too. She was truly a prize for the Legion, a horribly deadly threat to its enemies, and Khadgar was sure Maiev knew that when they had quarrelled. She blamed him for both exposing her bladesister to darkness, and also for handing the Legion a potent weapon. She needn’t have pressed the point; he still nursed the guilt now, despite his lover’s gentle assurances.
And now he worried that he’d painted a great big target on Draggka’s back. She was the Huntmaster of the Unseen Path and a champion of considerable rank, so she was already on the Legion’s naughty list, but if she was associated with him?
Khadgar chewed his lip. Cordana had been very private, and it was difficult to gauge her emotions through her helmet, so he’d never been able to tell if she’d had an inkling of his and Draggka’s budding relationship. The mage didn’t think so, as they’d never behaved as anything more than friends in front of her (the memory of her walking in just as he was going to confess his feelings for the troll still ruffled him even now), but...
“You are troubled.” Senegos’s deep, tired voice snapped the wizard from his thoughts.
“Oh, it’s nothing much.” Khadgar said, concentrating back on the magic he was funnelling into the dragon. “A lot of things on my mind, as you can understand.”
Senegos turned his head very slightly, one large blue eye meeting Khadgar’s. Though he was old and fatigued, the darkness in the dragon’s pupil seemed to threaten to swallow the archmage whole, and for the first time in quite a long time, Khadgar felt very young, and very inexperienced.
“I don’t know much about the affairs of small, mortal creatures such as yourselves, but I know a few things.” An exhale from Senegos’s nose tousled Khadgar’s hair. “You are close to the huntress. You worry about her.”
The young-old mage glanced down at his feet. There was no use denying it when it was so blatantly laid out in front of him.
“I...Yes.” He nodded. “We, we’re lovers. I care for her very deeply. And I promised her, earlier, that we would stay together, and face our challenges as a pair.” He sighed. “And yet, here I am. Sending her off again on her own. I don’t doubt her capabilities, but we are being hunted. By something - someone - who is sworn to the Legion, and incredibly dangerous. I fear I have left her alone to walk into the lion’s den.”
“And I have sent my granddaughter into such a place as well.” Senegos replied, shifting again. As his gaze briefly moved away, Khadgar felt he could breathe again. “It is a decision we wish we would never have to make. But it is what needs to be done.” He looked back to the mage. “I sensed you were close. More than mere companions on your travels, but I did not guess you were more than that.”
“It’s not something we wish to advertise.” Khadgar said quietly. “Trolls and humans share a bitter hatred, and the Alliance and Horde have only deepened it. At best, our bond would not be understood. At worst, I fear she would be cast out, or even hunted down for her attachment to me. So we keep our love a secret. Until a better time.”
The dragon made a deep humming noise (though it was more a rumble), and brief silence settled between the two.
“Your secrets are safe with us.” Senegos spoke. “And so are you. I may not be as strong as I once was, but whilst you are in my Repose, we will allow no harm to come to you.” The dragon’s eye seemed to unfocus, as if his gaze had shifted somewhere Khadgar could not follow. “And your companion too, if we are there to aid her. I am sorry we cannot offer more.”
A wry smile pulled at Khadgar’s lips.
“No, I understand. Thank you for trying, though. At least she has her raptor to protect her. She’s...more at an advantage than I am, at least.”
“She...” A pause. “You have brought me hope.” Senegos said quietly.
“Hope...?”
“Whatever happens to me...I feel that my whelps now have a chance to see another sunrise, because of the both of you.” A blink, and Senegos refocused on the archmage. “I feel certain she will help us.”
The smile across Khadgar’s face broadened, and he felt a spark of pride warm his chest.
“Yes, she will,” he said. “Draggka’s word is her bond, and if she has given her word to help you, you can be certain she will do everything in her power to do so. It is something I have experienced personally numerous times. And she is very, very good at coming out of difficult tasks alive.”
The dragon shifted his head more towards the wizard, interest gleaming in his eyes.
“We will be here a little while, and you sound like you have stories to tell about your companion.”
Khadgar noticed a whelpling flutter down beside him, as if wanting to listen in, bright golden eyes gleaming up at him. If its patriarch was not clinging to life and its other siblings weren’t relaying mana crystals to keep him there, Khadgar would have found the scene amusing.
“Well, I don’t really know too much about Draggka, but I met her in person first several months ago in the Blasted Lands...”
(Previous chapter) / (Next chapter)
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crimsonrevolt · 7 years ago
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Congratulations Paige you’ve been accepted to Crimson Revolt as Augustus Rookwood.
↳ please refer to our character checklist
Welcome back Paige! To hear from you was such a pleasant surprise and to have you back is even better! We never know what Augustus is going to do and that’s what makes him so great! He’s complex and interesting and we’re ready to have him back on the dash!
application beneath the cut 
OUT OF CHARACTER
INTRODUCTION
Paige, 25, she/her, EST. I’m from Tennessee in the United States!
ACTIVITY
I’m currently having to share a laptop with my mom, and Chronic Fatigue keeps me pretty dead for most of the day, but I plan to get online at least once daily to reply to anything I owe. So 5/10 maybe? I mean, I’m ALWAYS available via chat though, to plot or just talk.
HOW DID YOU FIND US?
Originally, Alexis, your former (original?) Rabastan. Then I was here for months, left, returned for a year, left, and I’m baaaaaaaaack! Lol You know I can’t stay away from my trash son.
WHAT HARRY POTTER CHARACTER DO YOU IDENTIFY WITH MOST?
In the past, I said Hermione without hesitation. I was always the one who felt a bit left out when new to a school, the one who lived to make teachers happy, and was a little too weird to make friends on my own without an intervening force. However, now I would say Minerva. In my friend group, I tend to be “mom”. I use logic and my mediating skills to make sure everyone stays out of too much trouble, work on guiding them through tough situations, and I always offer snacks when someone is upset. Also, cats are my life, and if I could become one, I would. Though even with the benefit of magic, the process would be incredibly complicated and I’m super lazy.
ANYTHING ELSE?
Nope!
IN CHARACTER
DESIRED CHARACTER
Augustus Rookwood.
Middle name: Xavier.
Name’s full meaning: Majestic, splendid, bird/forest
FACE CLAIM
Daniel Sharman
REASON FOR CHOSEN CHARACTER
What I put in my first apps: I’ve always been drawn to the darker characters. Especially the ones who appear very controlled when in the public eye, and then “let loose” when they’re behind closed doors. Then there was mention of his family basically putting him on a pedestal. I’ve always loved (and had a muse for) characters that have a little too much responsibility put on their shoulders by their parents, and then begin to crack under the pressure in highly destructive ways.
Augustus seems like the type of person who originally started out trying to be the best son he could be. Who nodded and smiled at his parents’ plans for his future, worked his hardest in school, and then one day realized there was someone out there (The Dark Lord) to whom he could devote himself, and not have to be so perfect and “good”.
Which is why he will last in this war. No one suspects the “good little quiet boy” who kept his nose in his books, and his potentially deadly spells to himself. Not even the Dark Lord wanted him at first. Not until Augustus showed him exactly what he was capable of, behind a locked door, when everyone else was out trying to make as much noise for their cause as possible.
Now that he has an excuse to use the dark skills he’s kept to himself for years, Augustus kills when asked to and tortures just for the fun of it. However, he draws the line at children, and will convince another member of the group to kill/torture them when sent to “take care of” an entire family. He can’t exactly explain why he’s protective of children, or why that mindset changes as soon as they’ve reached an age when they can defend themselves. Perhaps it’s just too easy, and he likes a challenge.
Now that I’ve actually played him: He evolved over time and his ability to suppress his emotions slipped drastically depending on who he was with. There were far more bad influences than good ones, and soon, a few too many people knew his secrets and he was caught. Since then, he has retreated back into himself as much, if not more than before, and mainly focuses on his job and making the Dark Lord proud. And God, he feels like screaming every minute of every day. As the climax of the war draws nearer, situations become more and more tense. The whispers behind his back make his skin crawl, and although he knows he will be protected if he lashes out, he swallows his curses like acid. He was betrayed once, and won’t let it happen again.
PREFERRED SHIPS // CHARACTER SEXUALITY // GENDER & PRONOUNS
Preferred ships? Augustus/everyone, to be honest. Augustus will have sex with anyone. Long time friends, people he wants to manipulate, strangers, whatever. Sex isn’t tied to emotion for him. It is purely the pursuit of pleasure. Hell, he would probably have sex with the Dark Lord without even being commanded to do so. Because yolo? But romance is an entirely different animal. It requires trust and emotional connection and way too much of oneself. Therefore, Augustus has only felt such a connection once, and he’s not sure he wants to repeat it. However, he could easily be in a relationship or marriage with someone out of convenience or friendship. Though no monogamy or cute stuff unless pretending for the public. He thinks it would be selfish to tie someone down like that if he can’t offer them what they need emotionally.
Overall, Augustus identifies as an aromantic pansexual (though those labels aren’t exactly a thing in the 70s/80s), as a cis male (he/him/his). There has been some gender experimentation with polyjuice potion, but that was purely for fun.
CREATE ONE (OR MORE!) OF THE FOLLOWING FOR YOUR CHARACTER:
Patronus: Lynx. (Lore states that the secretive lynx represents controlled power, individualism, and sharp-sightedness. Lynx people are generally exceedingly observant, quiet, intelligent, and curious. Though their independent nature can strike some as aloof, they are often excellent guides and steadfast friends.) Boggart: Someone outing him for what he’s done. Such as, a member of the Wizengamot reading a list of his crimes. Wand: Hazel (Wandlore states that “A sensitive wand, hazel often reflects its owner’s emotional state, and works best for a master who understands and can manage their own feelings.”), 10 inches, Dragon heartstring core, Unyielding.
Blog: http://avgvstvs.tumblr.com
LINK TO VISUAL AESTHETIC
Brief playlist: “Choke” - I Don’t Know How But They Found Me, “Strangers” - Halsey (ft. Lauren Jauregui), “Run” - AWOLNATION, “The Last One” - Black Veil Brides
Aesthetic: On one hand, he’s a smoking gun, hands dripping with blood, wet leather after a surprise storm, teeth on pale skin, the way a bottle of alcohol holds the scent when empty, skin rubbed against a rough brick wall, and sins in hallowed places. But then he’s also the smell of old books, chalk covered hands from solving impossible problems, secrets whispered to empty rooms, lies screamed into crowded places, nails digging into palms, tantrums behind locked doors, cold chains, hot coffee, lightning and hurricanes. But then as an Unspeakable, there’s all this mystery surrounding his job, and the strict rules he must follow.  So order and perfection. But as a Death Eater, there’s all this chaos and mess. Augustus in school was far different. Sweaters with sleeves a little too long, glasses to read that kept slipping off, smudged parchment, top marks hidden from fellow students, praise from teachers sounding too much like the praise from his parents, the death of a sibling and the expectation to immediately get over it, sitting in windows and watching the world move too fast. Everything was perfectly imperfect, and he did everything he could to grasp and absorb the chaos around him, and hold it tight.
IN CHARACTER QUESTIONNAIRE
The following section should be looked at like a survey for your character. Answer them in character and feel free to use gifs. Or, if you’d rather, answer them in third person or OOC without gifs. Answers do not have to be extremely lengthy.
♔ If you were able to invent one spell, potion, or charm, what would it do, what would you use it for or how would you use it? Feel free to name it: “I would not invent my own. I would simply rework the pre-existing Obliviate and make it much more permanent and impossible to reverse. The incantation would be obliviscaris in perpetuum (forget forever) and it would be invaluable for those who wish to use it on victims, or for those who have something traumatic or highly sensitive in their past that they’d rather forget..”
♔ You have to venture deep into the Forbidden Forest one night. Pick one other character and one object (muggle or magical), besides your wand, that you’d want with you: “I would choose to take the Dark Lord with me, obviously, despite him never being one to follow someone else. His powers surpass anything the forest could throw at us. Also, I would bring a time-turner with me, due to its ability to help me return to any moment before I run into trouble, and allow me to take a different path.”
♔ What kinds of decisions are the most difficult for you to make? “Those that require me to go against my deceitful nature and be completely honest with people. Like, a decision that if I am being truthful, would end my carefully constructed public image.”
♔ What is one thing you would never want said about you? “I would never want someone accusing me of something, whether I did the deed or not. How I spend my time is an entirely private matter, and I would rather not have others prying into my life, no matter what they believe I have done.”
REACTION TO LAST EVENT DROP
While Augustus is glad that the Ministry is fully within the clutches of the Dark Lord’s side, he disagrees with the eradication of non-purebloods. He has never been a blood purest due to his childhood as an outcast and the discovery that those with colorful family trees tend to be the kindest. And after his time spent in America surrounded by Muggles, Augustus doesn’t really give a shit who your parents are. He plans to do almost everything he can to avoid a total genocide. Sure, murder and mayhem are fun, but one must draw a line at the slaughter of friends. Perhaps. While he has no plans to actively work against his fellow Death Eaters, he will not turn down direct orders. And for now, his orders are to stay focused on his work in the Department Of Mysteries. He has a plan for The Dark Lord that only someone who works in the Love Chamber can properly research.
WRITING SAMPLE
Augustus hadn’t been in this to make friends. Since childhood he’d fully accepted that he was born to be a loner. Besides, everyone else just got in his way. But as he sat, with cold metal chains wrapped around his wrists and ankles, clinking every time he tried (and failed) to find a more comfortable position, he felt truly and utterly alone. For the first time in his life, he began wishing there was someone by his side. Anyone, really. Just another warm body to deflect some of the angry, betrayed looks coming from the seats in which sat the Wizengamot and others. At that point, he would have even accepted a few of his least favorite acquaintances.
Unfortunately, everyone he knew was either dead, in Azkaban, or in the audience, watching with bated breath. This trial was one that had brought out spectators from every department of the Ministry. NO ONE had suspected the quiet wizard who went directly to and from the Department Of Mysteries every day, never making enemies or even standing out very much. He’d played his role perfectly. Even now, he kept his true self behind a facade, acting the part of the wrongly accused. Because he truly intended to leave the trial a free man. What good was the word of Karkaroff against his? The headmaster of a foreign school known to breed dark wizards, against a ‘friend’ of many at the Ministry? He’d spent countless hours cultivating false relationships with these people, earning their trust, and then gathering secrets. And until his name was spat by Karkaroff, it hadn’t so much as flashed through people’s minds. Not since he was pardoned all those years ago after his interrogation at the hands of Aversio.
The questions were easily answered with lies, and he even asked some of his own. “Where were you on the night of (…)?” “Where was I? Where were your Aurors? How could you let this happen?” “Who else answers to He Who Must Not Be Named?” “Clearly you’re bringing anyone in these days. If I pointed at any of you, would you put them on trial too?” Until the lies weren’t enough to get him released, and a vial of Veritaserum was brought out.
Rookwood started to sweat in that moment. His breath became ragged and his hands began to violently shake. If he was being honest with himself, he would have realized that it was sheer terror he was experiencing. As the potion was carried across the room and uncorked, he’d half expected someone to burst into the room and save him. The other part of him knew his entire life was about to change for the worse. Even as the liquid was forced into his mouth, possible scenarios of escape danced through his mind. If only the chains were slightly loose. Maybe one of his fellow Death Eaters sat amongst the crowd. Yaxley? Cassius? Dolores? Perhaps someone would have a sudden change of heart and remember how impossible it seemed for him to be a part of this. But alas, the chains were magic, all of his comrades had already been captured or killed, and after the trial of Barty Crouch Jr., no one trusted even the least suspicious person.
And then words were spilling past his lips, almost too fast, with the sting of Veritaserum still on his tongue. When asked about his dealings with the Death Eaters, he held nothing back, despite the deep ache within his very soul that got stronger with each new thing he revealed. Both the Wizengamot and the audience gasped as he told details of the lives he’d destroyed. How he’d stalked several entire families before torturing and killing them. The bodies he’d left in alleyways. The memories he’d stolen from those he’d left bloody and beaten. The way it made him feel when people begged. He told them it was an almost sexual satisfaction, and the Veritaserum-induced smirk that went along with his words must have been the final nail in his coffin, because the trial ended swiftly after that.
Augustus was forced to watch as his beloved wand was snapped in half in front of him, and he was immediately taken to a cold, damp room where an elderly wizard stripped him of his fine, embroidered robes and a pair of striped, dirty ones were shoved into his hands. He would be taking a portkey to Azkaban directly from that room, without a chance to say goodbye to anyone. Not that he cared very much for anyone in his life, especially those not currently residing in the prison he was destined for, but it was all very sudden. Like a flower being plucked from a vast garden and shoved into a dusty old vase, just waiting to die.
And in this little vase of his, he was alone.
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alexiela73 · 7 years ago
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hey, I really like how part 2 came out, would you be able to continue caught by moonlight? thanks! :D
Caught By Moonlight: Part 3
Gabriel Reye’s POV
Faster, Gabe thought as he ran, faster. Trees and bushes flew past him, the moon at its highest peak in the sky as he forced his legs to push him to run faster. Strong paws dug firmly into the ground, propelling him through the thickets.
Gabriel had to hurry, because it had already been three hours since he’s last been through the tunnel. It wouldn’t be there much longer, and Gabriel couldn’t afford to get lost in the Wayward Woods. Not if he was to outrun Jack.
The woman astride his back seemed to bury her face into the nape of his fur, Gabe noticed briefly. Other then the kidnapping part, this was likely all new to her, Gabe thought. Though she seemed to know about werewolves, Jack obviously kept her apart from that side of his life, which seemed ridiculous…..
Suddenly you heard her voice, but it was too faint with the wind whipping past you both. Ears flicking in her direction, Gabe sent back an almost quizzical look back at her.
Seeming to take a deep breath, she called, “You never told me your name. Or why you have it out for Jack.” Why was this woman so damned persistent, Gabriel thought in irritation. 
The only response was a grunt, which she scowled at.
The air seemed to shift suddenly. It became heavier, uneasy, and out of nowhere mist slid through the trees. Knowing that they had arrived at last, Gabriel ran head long into the mist, ignoring the shocked gasp of the woman atop his back.
He knew they had crossed the protective barrier of the Wayward Woods only when a rippling sensation ran across his body, causing his fur to bristle, and immediately the air was normal again. Other then the thick fog, of course.
Slowing, Gabe blinked slowly at the dark shapes of twisted tree trunks and empty hollows in the mist. It was nothing like the forest they had just run through the last hour. The air was colder, the ground covered in dew soaked grass and little hills, unlike the forest of flat dirt and thinning trees.
“W-Where are we?” the woman asked softly, a tremor to her voice. Gabe supposed she could feel it too, the danger and magic that was almost tangible in the air.
It was difficult, Gabe thought, because he wasn’t sure if he should change back into a man or stay a wolf. These woods held dangers, and it was easy to get lost or find yourself in trouble with the creatures inhabiting it. As a man, it would be easier to keep her calm and to hide if necessary. But as a wolf, he was faster and could better defend them in trouble…
Though the change took a total of a minute, a minute could be the difference between living or death. Changing was also a tiring process, and already he’d changed twice this tonight. If he changed a third time, he might not have enough strength to fight off an attacker…
When Gabriel felt her trembles though, Gabriel knew he couldn’t just ignore her or her fears. Laying down, he waited until the young woman climbed off of his back. She seemed hesitant and stayed close, and Gabe knew her instincts probably told her that he was safer then anything else in these woods
It took a minute but soon he was on the ground, breathing hard. One of the good things about his changes were if he had enough change, he could muster enough energy to create clothes for himself when he changes back into a human. When he was weak, he would usually change back naked.
Waiting for a moment, Gabe just laid there on his hands and knees, breathing hard as his fingers sunk into the soft dirt. After gathering himself together, he forced himself to his feet and wiped his hands off on his pants.
“Hi,” he said briefly, cutting her off before the woman could say anything-and she had been about to, he saw. There was no point in letting her because they needed to get a move on now.
“Okay, so I want you to know now. Stay close, got it? Don’t try to sneak off. And stay quiet. This place is filled with monsters a lot scarier then me, but we have to pass through these woods to make it to where we need to be,” Gabe said, glancing around. The fog was thick, but he could make out just far enough that it would be easy to walk through, he thought.
Moving closer, the woman glanced around hesitantly. “Look, can’t you just take me home? Please?” she asked softly, looking uneasy.
Gabe shook his head. “I’m…I’m sorry. But if you knew what kind of things Jack has done, you wouldn’t be so eager to get home to him,” Gabriel said in a quiet voice, before he started to walk.
Immediately she fell in step behind him. An owl hooted in the distance, and Gabriel could practically feel her jump behind him. Easily spooked, he thought with the barest amusement. She had a right to be scared though.
“I know you want me to stop asking but…can you please tell me yet? Why you’ve taken me from Jack?” she asked, to which he ground his teeth together. “Or at least..could you tell me your name?”
The two walked in silence for a few minutes before at last, Gabriel glanced over at her. Despite his having to threaten her once or twice, she had been compliant, he thought. Perhaps he owed her at least the answer to one question.
“My name is Gabriel Reyes,” he says finally, eyes scanning ahead of him. 
A soft noise left her, and when he looked she was watching him with curiosity in her eyes. When no one spoke, Gabe let out a sigh. “I’m not going to tell you the other one. You can ask almost anything except that.”
For a moment, she seemed to take it to heart, looking lost in thought as she carefully stepped over roots and through the soft grass. What did she plan to ask, he wondered.
“Well, what do you-” she was cut off as nearby a bunch of ravens were sent screeching and flapping into the sky. With a squeak, she pressed to Gabriel’s back, moving behind him and peeking around him in fear.
Gabe was tense, wondering what had set them off. It couldn’t just be anything, the birds here were used to the presence of creatures like him.
“We need to keep going,” Gabriel says softly, urgently. Taking one of her bound hands, he started moving a bit quicker, pulling her with him. Her fingers clutched his fearfully, and her eyes kept seeming to scan the fog too.
Suddenly Gabriel felt like they were being watched. Whatever it was, it could see them through the fog. Would it attack though, he thought vaguely as he kept glancing around. Perhaps it was a goblin.  No goblin would face a werewolf, he thought, but of course that was being hopeful.
Was it smarter to change again? What should he do? 
“Gabe,” she whispered, frightened, and suddenly came to a halt. “Gabe!”
Gabriel stopped looking around him and focused up ahead, only to feel the rush of fear through his own system. Eyes widening, he stepped back and in front of her quickly as he gazed ahead, his mouth going dry.
“Why, hello there,” purred a feminine voice. The voice was sweet, kind even…but Gabriel could hear the malice beneath it. Knew that here was something to truly fear before them.
Standing before them was the dragon sorceress, Symmetra, a smile slowly creeping across her face. Her body was quite female, beautifully curved, and covered with smooth scales. Eyes that glowed an eerie gold watched him, and her lips parted to reveal wicked sharp fangs. Briefly she studied her claws, as if displaying them to further emphasize the trouble they were in. 
How was this possible, Gabriel thought distantly, his heart pounding.
She was beautiful, just as the stories foretold. But she was dangerous, he knew. Magic had carved her heart from the depths of a volcano long ago, and given birth to the enchantress before him. She was known for her unnecessary cruelty, her love of glittery things and her undeniable hate for humans.
Symmetra should have been locked away in a mountain far off, where she had last been heard of guarding a large sum of gold and jewels. It had been a long time since she’d last left it, so to find her here…
Licking her lips, Symmetra tilted her head back and gazed at the two of them, though from the way her eyes had narrowed at the woman behind him, Gabriel could see where her priorities lay.
“What are you doing with this human, wolf?” she asked, a wicked smile lighting her face she stepped closer. 
Gabriel shoved Jack’s woman behind him, moving them both back a step as well. “We are just passing through. We do not mean you any trouble,” he says quietly, voice low. While Gabriel would fight her if necessary, even he knew that a dragon would surely come out on top in this situation.
“Passing through…I see. Well, I must admit…I am rather hungry. You will both join me,” Symmetra murmured, tilting her head to the side and Gabriel realized what her intentions were.
She planned to eat Jack’s woman, the human that clutched at his back.
“I’m afraid we don’t have the time-” Gabriel said, voice going hard. A fight was unavoidable, he thought, and watched as those iridescent eyes glowed brighter with a flash of anger.
“I suppose you mistook me. You WILL join me,” she snarled, “Unless you think you can take me, wolf.”
Gabriel stood straight and flexed his shoulders, his eyes meeting Symmetra’s in challenge. Death was imminent, but he’d faced worse odds before and come out on top. Surely he could again.
“Gabriel, don’t-” the woman whispered at his back, shaking her head but Gabe didn’t listen as the dragoness flexed her claws, gaze on him.
A smile curved his lips.
“Try me.”
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umbralsun-blog · 7 years ago
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the book
Velka comes to retrieve something of hers. (Credit to the idea of Yorshka’s scale color being a result of lunar magic goes to @axemurderercreighton)
Snow lights on her eyelashes, and Yorshka blinks it away, her vision going blurry for a moment. It seemed like that was all she had, moments, the days and weeks of her imprisonment blurring together. She remembered her life before now, before the Pontiff had torn her family to scraps and left her here, awaiting an uncertain fate. He'd told her how the Dark Sun had abandoned her, fled like the coward that she was, but Yorshka could not bring herself to believe him. Gwyndolin would never abandon her... but if that were true, then where was she? Also imprisoned? Or...
Her lip trembles as she takes in a shaky breath. No, she mustn't consider such a thing. She had an important job to do, she had to be strong. Yorshka looks down at her feet, at the tail curled around herself in a feeble attempt to preserve her warmth. Her scales had once been a lovely lavender color, the color of the Dark Sun's lunar magic, but they'd become so pale, soon she would be the same color as the snow surrounding her tower. It felt like losing Gwyndolin all over again.
The view never changed, the same mountain ranges and the distant peaks of Lothric castle. Yorshka wore no chains, and the tower she sat upon led down into her church below, and to the streets of Irithyll. The fact of the matter was, though, that even if she evaded the Pontiff's knights, she simply had nowhere to go. She was too weak to travel far or to defend herself. Though her dragon blood kept her from death, her body had withered from hunger, and even standing for too long left her lightheaded. 
A guttural croak interrupts the icy silence, and her head shoots up. There's a crow perched on the railing of her balcony, dark and glossy. Her first thought, to her slight shame, is maybe I can catch and eat it.  She licks her dry lips. No, she shouldn't be ashamed, not when she was this hungry. Her shaky fingers reach for a small pile of stones beneath her chair, prisms left by the few Darkmoon Blades who'd passed though, and she offers them to the bird in hopes of fooling it into hopping closer.
The bird is a bird for one moment, but the next, it is a woman... Or something suggestive of a woman, tall and cloaked in darkness, long black hair tumbling to her chest from the chasm of her hood. Yorshka gapes, her pale eyes wide as the woman extends a hand, curved black talons and fingers scaled like the feet of a raven. 
Gwyndolin had taught her of Velka, the Goddess of Sin... A dubious deity that as a rule did not involve herself in the doings of other gods, and most importantly, Gwyndolin's mother. However, Gwyndolin was no exception to the rule, and Velka had not been present for much of the Dark Sun's life, and none of Yorshka's until this point... Why would she appear now?
Yorshka opens her mouth to ask, but Velka speaks first, her voice like the rustle of folding wings. "My book."
"Y... your book?" 
"Yes, child." 
Her book... The Book of the Guilty, that must be it. Gwyndolin had given it to Yorshka during one of their last meetings, her fingers pale against the dark leather of its cover. She had meant to gift it when the girl was older, more capable of understanding the weight of her duty, but there simply wasn't time. Even if the Dark Sun fell, order must be kept. Sinners must be punished. Yorshka looks back to her chair, where the book was resting against the wall behind it. She reaches for it, then stops. "...I'm sorry, I cannot give it to you. I promised my mother I would lead the Blades. I... Lady Velka, please, if we could only talk-"
"The book was stolen from me, long ago. You have no right to it." Her claws twitch, beckoning. 
Yorshka feels hot tears begin to gather in her eyes. This goddess, her adoptive grandmother... She'd finally appeared, not to offer Yorshka help, not to express sympathy at her plight, but to demand her book back. This book that was one of the few scraps of Gwyndolin Yorshka might have left. She knew Velka was detached, but this was simply unkind. "...no. I will not." Her tiny, sharp nails dig little furrows into its ancient hide. "Please... Lady Velka, she’s is in danger, we have to save her. The Pontiff, he... he's imprisoned her. He's killed most of the Blades, the Knightess, and everybody in the city..." Her voice rises, her scrawny chest hitching. "You're a god, can't you help?"
"I do not involve myself in the Dark Sun's affairs," Velka says softly, beginning to draw her fingers back, realizing that the girl would not be giving up the book upon request. "Nor her... children's. If you will not return my rightful possessions, then I have no business here. The Book will find its way back to me, sooner or later. I merely hoped this would be an easier time than the last." 
"You’re her mother..." Yorshka's voice cracks as she begins to stand. "Please... please, don't leave me here! I have to help her!" She grasps for Velka's hand, but her fingers pass through, as if the goddess were only smoke. In frustration and grief, she lashes out, swiping for the dark space where Velka's face would be, but the result is the same, and she clutches the book to her chest, sobbing. She can feel her tears already beginning to cool on her cheeks.  
The goddess, once more a crow, takes wing and quickly vanishes into the mists. Yorshka collapses back onto her chair, wrapping her arms around the book and trembling, without the energy to cry like she wanted to. In several centuries, perhaps the Goddess of Sin would pry the book from the arms of her frozen corpse, but for now this book was all Yorshka had of her dear guardian. All she could hold, touch and remember with. A book, a chime, and the fading color of her scales.
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sebeth · 7 years ago
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Babs-a-thon, Part 5
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Warning, Spoilers Ahead…
 Oracle debuted in Suicide Squad #23.  The true identity of Oracle was a complete mystery – man, woman, group?
Oracle would provide information for the Squad until the mystery was solved in Suicide Squad #38. It was a rather low-key revelation: Amanda contacts Oracle in cyber-space.  Oracle questions why Flo (the Oracle’s usual contact) isn’t the one reaching out. Amanda informs Oracle that Flo died on a mission.  The next panel reveals a wheelchair-bound redhead, a Batgirl plushie on the desk, mourning the loss of her friend.
I love the subtle revelation of Oracle’s secret identity.  No storming the secret lair and gasping in shock.  A simple one-panel revelation that relied on the art to provide the clues to her identity.  Not that it didn’t blow my mind at the time.
A small pause in the Babs-a-thon to promote John Ostrander, Kim Yale, and the 1980s’ Suicide Squad title. If you haven’t read the Ostrander/Yale run – what are you waiting for?  Ostrander & Yale created two of the most unique, groundbreaking, and iconic women in comics:  Amanda Waller and Barbara Gordon as Oracle.  The Squad consistently had multiple female characters – Flo, Karen, Nightshade, Enchantress, Mind-Boggler, Plastique, Vixen, Duchess, Jewlee, Poison Ivy – all different types of personalities, all written well.  The development of the villains was great – Captain Boomerang and Deadshot owed their prominence to this title.  Read this series!
Back to the Babs-a-thon –
Barbara had two more prominent appearance in the Squad.  In Suicide Squad #48, Barbara visits her therapist.  Babs reveals she has a recurring dream – she runs down a corridor to open the door – the identity of the person on the other side changes – it ranges from the Joker, Jim Gordon, Batman, to Batgirl herself.  The individual always has a gun and shoots her.  Babs doesn’t reveal the multiple choices to the therapist and focuses on the Joker –
“And then I feel the bullet boring its way through my body.  My legs give way, useless as my spine is severed.  There’s this awful wrench and grinding in my back – like a clutch out of gear – and then pain.  There’s a woman screaming for rescue that never comes.  And the room stinks of cordite and blood – my blood – and the Joker claws at me.  And there is pain.  And then the Joker is beating me, and he smells like paraffin and rotten lilacs, screeching I’m not cooperating, and every blow reverberates through my shot-out, shattered spine.  And there is pain.  And then – then – when he’s – when I’m naked – he starts taking pictures and I can’t stop him! And when – when he’s done – the Joker just…laughs!”
“For six months all I had was pain.  They had to build a bridge between sections of my spine just so I could sit up straight. And I will never, never, never walk again.”
The therapy session would be taking place around 2 years after the Killing Joke.  The Batman Chronicles story mentioned 6 months of therapy and Babs spent a year training with Richard Dragon, throw in 6 months to establish contact/work with the Suicide Squad = 2 years.
Bab’s paralysis/recovery, Jason’s death/resurrection, the 4 Robins, and Dick becoming Nightwing are all examples of why the New 52 compressed 5-year timeline doesn’t work for the Bat Family.  Barbara and Jason’s respective Joker traumas were the defining obstacle of their lives – it took time and much inner strength to overcome.  In the New 52, Babs, in a space of 5 years, became Batgirl, was paralyzed by the Joker, created the Oracle identity, formed the Birds of Prey, disbanded the Birds of Prey, regained the ability to walk, discarded the Oracle identity, and regained enough athletic ability to resume the Batgirl role. So, Babs was paralyzed for less than a month?  Still traumatizing but it removes the strength and struggle it took for Babs to even create the Oracle role.
The therapist informs Barbara: “You have a right to be angry.  It was a heinous act.  It was unfair.  You need to tell other people about your rage – like your father.  Whenever you’re with him, you put on the act of perky, plucky Barbara Gordon. Why?”
Barbara responds: “What good would it do to get mad?  He’d only feel more ashamed and guilty.  He holds himself responsible.  Dad always refused to have an officer of duty guarding us like they do in other cities. Wanted to be more ‘accessible’ to the taxpayers.  We were ‘accessible’ all right.”
“But you do blame him – and Batman.  Not unreasonably!”
“I mostly blame myself mostly.  I should’ve known better than to just pop open the door without seeing who it was.”
“Why? Why should you have known better?”
Barbara leaves the therapy session, worrying that she has “another murderous sociopath stalking me!”
“And whose fault is this one, Barbara?  Batman’s? Dad’s?  Simon LaGrieve?  Uh-uh. You wanted to be a superhero again so you created a computer version and called yourself Oracle.  But you weren’t as good as you thought you were.  Stop it!  No more self-pity.  No more playing the victim!  Whatever it takes, Thinker, I’ll deal with you – myself!”
Trademark Barbara determination and independence on display.
Suicide Squad #49 was near the tail-end of Babs’ run with the team.  Barbara continues to be stalked by the Thinker.
Babs is at the Gotham City Police Department Shooting Range: “What am I doing?  I hate guns!  Shut up! You know very well what you’re doing! You’re preparing to kill someone. You touched that maniac’s mind! You know what he wants to do! Carmichael’s a sociopath!  He wants to kill you, your father – anyone who care’s anything about you!  You swore – never again!  You’d never be a victim again!  Isn’t there any other way?  Of course there is – I could just go tell Dad.  But that would be the end of Oracle.  The only place I have left where I can walk, where I can run, where I can dance is the cybernet!  I lost my physical mobility because of one madman, must I lose my mental freedom as well?”
Notice that Bab’s never entertains the thought of contacting Batman or Nightwing.  It reinforces the pre-Crisis and immediate post-Crisis canon that Barbara was not an intimate member of the Bat Family.  I’m in the minority but I prefer it this way.  I love Bab’s as an independent, adult woman, who, while inspired by Batman, carved her own path as a hero – one who didn’t need or require his guidance or approval.  I prefer that Batman, amazed by Bab’s intelligence, strength, and determination, brought her into the fold after she created the Oracle identity.  I feel Bruce saw Babs as well-intentioned but lacked the “true dedication” in her Batgirl career.  He wasn’t wrong as Babs had retired her Batgirl-career pre-Killing Joke.  Post Killing-Joke, Bruce realized Babs wasn’t here to play!  We shouldn’t underestimate the guilt Bruce felt – not only for the shooting but for laughing with the Joker.
Babs wonders if she can bring herself to shoot Carmichael: “I won’t be a victim again.  But does that mean I must become a killer?  It flies in the face of everything I was taught – everything I believe!  But perhaps everything I was taught to believe is wrong.  Don’t we have the right to defend ourselves?”
Barbara hides out at the Hotel Tamarindo.  Carmichael storms into the room, yelling for “Amy!”
Babs/Amy claims she only ships computers to Oracle but has never seen the actual person.
Carmichael throws Babs out of her wheelchair and threatens to “rip open her mind” and discover the truth.
Carmichael’s interrupted by Amanda Waller’s entrance: “So there you are, you nasty boy, you.”
“I know you.  You’re Amanda Waller!  I read all about you in the papers a year or so back!  But you couldn’t be Oracle – or could you?!”
Carmichael tries to control Amanda’s mind but fails.  Amanda and Carmichael brawl while Barbara grabs her gun: “Stand away from him, Mrs. Waller.”
“You can’t do it, girl.”
“I’ve got to do it! He’s a sociopath – he wants to kill me and my family – my friends!”
“Who you really trying to kill, girl?”
Babs visualizes shooting the Joker, Batman, Jim Gordon, and Batgirl.
“No one.  Take this, please, Mrs. Waller.”
Waller knocks Carmichael unconscious and offers Babs continued work with the Suicide Squad: “Also got an offer to make to you.  You got a thing about privacy.  Fine. I won’t pry.  But I think we can be a help to each other if you’re willing to listen.”
“You saved my life and helped keep me from taking a life.  All right, Mrs. Waller – I’ll listen.”
I love the mutual respect between Babs and Amanda.  Amanda didn’t threaten or blackmail Babs – she simply made an offer and was willing to back off if Barbara declined.  
For those unfamiliar with Amanda’s backstory, she came from a poor background, suffered numerous heart-breaking tragedies, and built herself up by pure force of will.  I think Amanda sees herself in Barbara – another woman brought down low by outside forces who raised herself up through pure determination.
Barbara would continue to aid the Suicide Squad but I’m switching to Showcase ’94 #12.
“A Little Knowledge” by Scott Peterson and Brian Stelfreeze.  The short story takes place during the Prodigal-era of the Bat titles. Babs has stopped working with the Squad and began to make appearances in the Bat titles.  
Babs hears a knock on her door – she opens it (using the peephole first), and discovers a rodent impaled by a knife.
“I can’t help wondering if they have to deal with this kind of thing in Metropolis.”
Babs receives a call: “I’ve been watching you.”
What is it with Babs and stalkers?
Barbara continues her work day: “A note from Robin.  Great kid. Knows his stuff, too.  And he always thanks me for the help.  Means more to me than the money they send my way once in a while.”
Yes, Tim is polite and gracious.  Unlike Bruce.
“Not that I’m complaining. Their generosity is what keeps me state of the art.  Still, as much as I love Robin, I wish I didn’t get the feeling that he and Alfred were the only ones sending the mysterious checks I receive, funneled through dummy corporation seven times removed.  Like I wouldn’t find out.”
Sorry, boys, you can’t fool the Oracle.
Babs continues to receive calls and weird notes.
Barbara is out grocery shopping when someone shoots at her: “I’m on my way home when the first shots fired. I see it hit the pavement before I hear it, and I’m already looking for places to dive.  Then I remember I can’t dive anywhere anymore.  I’m about to be shot.  And there’s nothing I can do.  Again.”
Babs returns home and receives another threatening call.
Babs has an origin/Killing Joke flashback:
“It was the Batman who made me want to become a hero myself.  And even after he made it clear he didn’t want another partner, I kept at it.”
Independent Babs for the win!
“It was fun.  Until the night when all the fun went away…forever.”
“I worked with what I had. From my days as Gotham’s head librarian I knew how to find out whatever I needed.  If I could do that for citizens, I could do it for colleges, non-profit corporations, private investigators and super-heroes.  Having been blessed with photographic recall, I studied a dozen newspapers, four dozen magazines, and my main haunt, the computer bulletin boards.  I even hacked into the Gotham Bar Association to take the exam, just out of curiosity. Passed the first time, piece of cake. But the whole time I was improving my mind, I never got over losing the use of my legs.  Although, when I think back on it all, I can’t believe I used to fight crime with a brown belt in Judo.  A brown belt, for God’s sake.”
Barbara decides to talk to a friend.  Enter Batman (Dick Grayson) via Batcave phone call.
Barbara confides in Dick: “The last time I was in a physical confrontation I shot a secret service agent. The time before that I got my spine blown out by the Joker.  You can see why I’m a little nervous.  Not exactly a great track record.  I’m afraid.”
Dick advises: “Barbara, look – it…it never really goes away, you can try to lock it up, you can pretend you don’t feel it, but…but the fear’s always there somewhere.  You can never escape it.  You just have to overcome it.  You have to prove you’re stronger.  Do you want help with this guy?”
“No.  Thanks, Dick, but…no.  I need to do this on my own.  I need to know if I can.”
My personal feeling is Barbara was brought into the Bat Family circle during the Knightsend/Prodigal era.  I believe Dick is the one that invited Babs into the “family”.  Not in a romantic way.  Bruce was largely absent during from Gotham during this era and Dick will always be the more social/team-oriented member of the family.  I see a reveal similar to the Batwoman/Nightwing moment in Batman: Bad Blood.  The twist being that Barbara knows the secret identities – she’s had a lot of time to research since the Killing Joke.
Babs waits in her apartment. She receives another call: “Get ready, little girl.  Here I come.” And the lights and phone go out.
Babs uses a back-up generator to access her computers.  The security cameras reveal a Nick Riley: “And I finally understand who wants to kill me, and why.”
“I finally push the button. The first thing I installed.  The think I hoped I never have to use.”
Riley enters the apartment: “You and me, we’re going to have a whole lotta fun.”
“No.  I don’t believe this is going to be very much fun for you at all.”
Babs beats the man into unconsciousness.  She then calls out to another man: “You can come in now, Mister Armonk.”
Armonk was sent to jail for murder two years ago with the assistance of Barbara Gordon.  Armonk prepares to shoot Babs but she whips out her escrima sticks and knocks him out.
Batman compliments: “Nice job.”
“Batman?  How long have you been here?”
“About five minutes. I came as soon as I got your signal.”
“Why didn’t you give me a hand?”
“Didn’t look like you needed it.”
“Hey, you looked good. Really good.  How did it feel?”
“It felt good.  I hope I don’t need to do that again.  But it feels good to know I can.  It may not be swinging from rooftops, but…but it’s not bad. Not bad at all.”
Babs would shortly form the Birds of Prey, first as a partnership with Black Canary and later expanding into a full-fledged group.  One of my favorite series but it’s simply too lengthy to include in a Babs-a-thon.
Barbara’s other major development of the 90’s/2000’s was her romance with Dick Grayson.  I started as a fan of the pairing.  Babs – in the immediate post-Crisis era – dismissed Robin as a flirtatious, too young boy.  Pre-Crisis, Babs dated Clark Kent and had a lengthy romance with Jason Bard.  In both eras, Babs was intrigued by Batman.  The point I’m making is Barbara dated adult men because she was an adult.
Shortly after the Prodigal era, Barbara and Dick began to head in a romantic direction.  What I wanted, and what was initially portrayed, was Barbara falling for an older, more mature Dick.  Dick is an adult and their age difference is no longer an issue for Barbara.  Their early romance had touching moments as Babs let down her guard and allowed Dick in. Dick was still healing over the brutal end of his relationship with Starfire, so it made sense to go slow.
It didn’t take long for the pairing to jump the tracks for me.  First, Babs is continually de-aged to become Dick Grayson’s one (only?) true love. First, no.  Second, why does Babs have to be the one to have her history and accomplishments removed to accommodate Dick?  Why does she lose her independence to become yet another sidekick of Batman? Third, Dick’s true love of his teenage/college years is Starfire.  It’s Dick’s first intense, full-out love experience.
I could go on for a while about this pairing but I’ll save that for a separate post.
This concludes my Babs-a-thon.  The issues mentioned in parts 1 – 5 cemented my impression of Barbara: an intelligent, determined, driven woman.  I adored Barbara as Batgirl but it’s as Oracle that she became a force of nature in the DC Universe.
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gokinjeespot · 6 years ago
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off the rack #1245
Monday, January 14, 2019
 Sorry this is going out later than usual. It's freezing outside this morning -18 degrees C (or 0 degrees F for all you non-metric folks). A good reason to stay under the flannel sheets and down comforter a couple of hours longer.
 We had a National Geographic moment here yesterday when a hawk managed to capture a male cardinal right at our bird feeders. They are both beautiful birds and the hawk was only doing what comes naturally but it's still traumatic to witness the circle of life being played out right outside your window. Penny saw the raptor fly off with its bright red meal clutched in its talons.
 X-23 #8 - Mariko Tamaki (writer) Diego Olortegui (pencils) Walden Wong (inks) Chris O'Halloran (colours) VC's Cory Petit (letters). X-Assassin part 2. Laura and Gabby rescue their "sister" from the bad guys. Whether the X-Assassin appreciates it is still to be determined. I like this straight forward story where the girls are trying to do the right thing and the villain is clearly defined.
 Thor #9 - Jason Aaron (writer) Mike del Mundo (art) VC's Joe Sabino (letters). This lead up to "The War of the Realms" features Roz Solomon and it's great. Sometimes I'll read a comic book with a lot of writing and wonder partway through when is it going to finish? This time each word balloon and caption just carried me along as Roz fights a frost giant and gathers important intel as an Agent of Wakanda. I loved the little scene with ex-boyfriend Thor.
 Domino #10 - Gail Simone (writer) David Baldeon, Michael Shelfer, Alberto Alburquerque & Anthony Piper (art) Victor Olazaba, Ed Tadeo & Michael Shelfer (inks) Carlos Lopez (colours) VC's Clayton Cowles (letters). Soldier of Fortune conclusion. The team up with Longshot ends, tied up with a big fat bow. I found the pacing of this story to be too fast. The good guys go to the Mojoverse to see if they can heal Longshot, fight through an army of guards and get into the hospital where a doctor cures their friend. Then it's back to their own universe and a long nap. All in 20 pages. They glossed over the fact that both Domino and Longshot have a luck power, which was what made me want to keep reading this story. I would have liked more depth. I'm also not a fan of art by committee. I don't mind a couple of artists working on an issue but four different styles is too jarring visually for me.
 Young Justice #1 - Brian Michael Bendis (writer) Patrick Gleason (art) Alejandro Sanchez (colours) DC Lettering (letters). Yay Young Justice. When I saw the ads for the new Bendis books I was most excited to see this teen team. I loved the old series written by Peter David. I am so happy to see Impulse/Bart (RIP Mike Wieringo), Robin/Tim, Superboy/Conner, and Wonder Girl/Cassie back on the racks. It's going to be neat to see how Amethyst, Jenny Hex and Teen Lantern fit into the team. This intro is a pulse-pounding fight between the teen heroes and warriors from Gemworld. I probably would have read this no matter who drew it but Patrick Gleason makes this new book an automatic add to my "must read" list.
 Criminal #1 - Ed Brubaker (writer) Sean Phillips (art & letters) Jacob Phillips (colours). Meet lowlife Teeg Lawless fresh out of prison and already in the hole for 23 K. How's he going to pay that off? You'll find out if you stick with this story of a hardened criminal. I love how Ed Brubaker writes about these extraordinary ordinary people and Sean Phillips is perfect for this slice of noir life.
 Captain Marvel #1 - Kelly Thompson (writer) Carmen Carnero (art) Tamra Bonvillain (colours) VC's Clayton Cowles (letters). Yep, it's another number one for Carol Danvers/Captain Marvel and you can jump right in and follow her new adventures without missing a beat. You know there's a Captain Marvel movie starring Brie Larson hitting the big screens in March right? I've followed Captain Marvel ever since she was a he in 1967 wearing the green costume with the fin on his helmet. Carol is my favourite character to use the moniker. This first issue is a standard introduction with the requisite super hero fight where Carol saves the city from a giant monster with the help of another of my favourite super heroes, Spiderwoman. Nice to see Jessica back on the racks. The twist at the end will surprise fans expecting another boring super hero comic book as Captain Marvel finds herself leading a whole new crew of do gooders. I'm going to stay tuned.
 Batman #62 - Tom King (writer) Mitch Gerads (art) Clayton Cowles (letters). Knightmares part 2. This is a very intense fight between Batman and the villain Pyg. The last two pages makes this issue more than what it seems.
 Die #2 - Kieron Gillen (writer) Stephanie Hans (art) Clayton Cowles (letters). Die is not just the singular for dice but it's also the name of the place that five former Dungeons and Dragons players find themselves trapped in. It's a very scary place and I think their quest to get home will ultimately fail. I'm sure some of them will die in Die. I wish I liked this more but none of the characters appeal to me and I find the story depressing. This fantasy with real life characters can go on without me.
 Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man #1 - Tom Taylor (writer) Juann Cabal (art) Nolan Woodard (colours) VC's Travis Lanham (letters). I was hooked on this new Spider-Man book as soon as I saw the names in the credits. Tom and Juann are in my top five list of writers and artists and they didn't disappoint me. Check out their X-23 story that just hit the racks as a trade paperback. Everything you need for a good comic book is here. You've got a little bit of super heroic action, mysterious bad guys, a damsel in distress and two little kids with glowing eyes on the last page to make you want to read the next issue right away. You have to wait until January 23 for that though. I know some Marvelites have complained that Marvel's new number ones are priced higher at $4.99 US but this one has a back-up story worth the extra buck. Peter Parker's Aunt May has been around since day one and has faced many threats. This latest one by Tom Taylor (writer) Marcelo Ferreira (pencils) Roberto Poggi (inks) Jim Campbell (colours) & VC's Travis Lanham (letters) might just break the two of them. If you've stopped reading Amazing, Friendly Neighborhood is a good replacement.
 Prodigy #2 - Mark Millar (writer) Rafael Albuquerque (art) Marcelo Maiolo (colours) Peter Doherty (letters). I love this kind of pure fantasy where the hero is a super intelligent guy with unlimited resources and the bad guys are pure evil. Showing the villains hunting children with rifles leaves no doubt. The threat is pure science fiction and the stakes are impossibly high. This is the kind of story that keeps me wanting to read every issue.
 Man Without Fear #2 - Jed MacKay (writer) Stefano Landini (art) Andres Mossa (colours) VC's Clayton Cowles (letters). Oh, so that's what happened. Matt was hit by a truck while saving a kid. That's why he's lying in a hospital crippled to the point where he has decided to retire Daredevil. This issue's narrator was a surprise and made me wonder if they're going to resurrect this character again. Jed has done a good enough writing this weekly mini so that I want to keep reading to see how Matt recovers to don the devil costume again.
 Avengers #12 - Jason Aaron (writer) Ed McGuinness & Cory Smith (pencils) Mark Morales, Karl Kesel & Scott Hanna (inks) Erick Arciniega (colours) VC's Cory Petit (letters). S.H.I.E.L.D. is gone. Now we have the Agents of Wakanda. This issue introduces some of those agents. They're a mix of misfits and oddballs. I like the I.T. guy and the guy out in space. Ka-Zar is a surprise but I like him too because I hope to see Zabu soon. These Avengers are dealing with Namor and his Defenders of the Deep but also another threat coming out of Transylvania. I like who they recruit to deal with the vampires but I thought he was in prison. Nope, just checked. He got 3 years for tax evasion and was released in April 2013.
 Miles Morales: Spider-Man #2 - Saladin Ahmed (writer) Javier Garron (art) David Curiel (colours) VC's Cory Petit (letters). I love the cover showing everything this young man has to juggle while living a dual life. Imagine trying to do it without a smart phone? I like that the Rhino doesn't have one just like me. So Miles and Rhino are trying to find some missing kids. The trail leads them to an old warehouse where they fight the bad guy but lose him. The good guy showing up on the last page will help them continue the search. Saladin must have gotten some writing tips from Brian Bendis to keep the audience panting for more.
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