#wychwiggin

[pyrettawychwiggin]

SFW Alphabet (Romantic) with Crow (From Destiny 2) - Crow x Guardian, Gender-Neutral

Summary: this is a SFW alphabet for Crow from Destiny 2 (in the scope of a romantic, non-platonic relationship, but there are some friendship-building details scattered in here).

Paired With: gender-neutral for basically any type or gender of guardian. I've kept the physical descriptors of 'your guardian' to be relatively ambiguous.

Rating: GEN/TEEN — SFW - with some vague references to what could be considered mildy suggestive, but very little.

Warnings: slight mentions of trauma/hyper-vigilence/coping mechanisms, etc.

Note From The Author: I love reading these little SFW (and in some cases, NSFW) alphabets for fictional characters. It's so cool to see how others interpret the characters and how they would handle things. So here's my own rendition for one of my favourite characters from the Destiny universe (and one of my current obsessions) - Crow (very specifically not Uldren, but that should be obvious, I think).

The entries are long. So be prepared for a lengthy read, y'all. I pulled out all the stops on this. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did making it! Okay. Eyes up, guardians.

(Image Credit - Kathi Langley / owlcath)

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show their affection?)

Crow is... careful at first. Very careful. So careful, in fact, that you assumed he either greatly disliked you, or even feared you - even well after he'd realized he'd started to like you.

Considering how he'd been treated by other guardians regarding the whole 'Cayde' situation, he was understandably one of the most guarded people you'd ever met, and it's not that he didn't want your affection, he simply didn't feel as though he deserved it (even when he does start to show affection, and even when you have reminded him countless times how much you adore him. Deep down, he still doesn't feel worthy).

His affection works more like a dance; you lead, he follows the silent boundaries you set.

It started small.

It started with a friendly wave. As you happened to pass by him during an event at The Tower, he assumed he would be ignored by everyone (and that would have been the best case scenario as far as he was concerned); but still, you locked eyes and gave him a genuine smile and a friendly wave as you passed by - as if you were actually happy to see him. This was a tiny gesture that caused him to overthink the short interaction for the rest of the day. The next time he passed by you days later, he bucked up the courage to go as far as saying 'hello,' and the friendly greeting you gave him in return made him feel warm and fuzzy for the rest of the day.

This would set the pace for the rest of your relationship. You were the first to start complimenting him; so he started doing the same for you. You were the first to put your head on his shoulder; so he put his arm around you to pull you a little closer.

That being said, the one thing that he was the one to instigate was the first kiss - but we'll get into that later in this post.

Finally (and adorably), much like his name ironically suggests, he is always keeping his eye out for little trinkets he thinks you may like; interesting looking stones, pieces of wood he's whittled into unique animals or shapes, little tokens and tools from any marketplaces he's come across - he's always got a space for you on his mind.

B = Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

As was mentioned under 'Affection,' it really started with a simple wave and a smile. From there, you slowly became one of his only friends outside of Glint and Amanda.

Once he trusts you, he is a fiercely loyal friend, and he has your back no matter what. He's a fantastic listener, he's incredibly considerate, and despite his introverted disposition, you are one of the only people he can spend lengthy amounts of time with without feeling as though he needs to mentally recharge afterward.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

The first hug shared between you two was not specifically romantic. He had told you about something that had happened to him that was, in a word, incredibly traumatizing. You didn't know what to say, so you just gave him a hug instead.

At first, he didn't know how to respond, and put his arms out as if he were afraid to touch you, but after a few seconds, he realized you weren't letting go. He remembers feeling your warmth and your heartbeat against his chest, and slowly, he wrapped his arms around you in return for a long hug that he so desperately needed.

Some time later, much farther into your friendship, he came to you with the intent of venting to you, or asking for advice, but as he tried and failed to find the words to describe what he had been going through, he gave up and just pulled you into his arms for another much-needed hug.

As he has gotten more and more comfortable with you, he has become more bold with you, and has gotten to the point where he always wants to be in some form of contact with you - be it holding hands, curling an arm around your waist, or his personal favourite, touching his forehead to yours.

Even if you're in a situation where you need to be more professional or reserved, you'll find that he's subtly standing shoulder-to-shoulder with you.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

As much as Crow enjoys wandering and exploring, seeing new things and having new experiences with you, he can also be quite the home-body.

You two start living together pretty early in your relationship. Not on purpose, mind you; you just found yourself spending time together, and having him stay with you that it just naturally happened on it's own. At first, it was an open invitation from you to raid your fridge (even though he would still always ask for permission), then it was a couple spare drawers in your dresser for a few of things. Then it was a keycode so he could allow himself in whenever he pleased - things just kind of happened from there.

Being together as often as you were just felt right; natural.

As for his 'domestic skills,' he's not particularly good at cooking, but he's not necessarily a 'bad cook' either. He has a handful of his favourite dishes that he's pretty good at preparing (and later on into your relationship, he went out of his way to learn a couple of your favourites, too).

That being said, he makes some of the best drinks that you've ever had; be it coffee, tea, hot chocolate, smoothies, cocktails, you name it - he could open his own little café for that reason alone (he is shockingly talented at latte art, and likes to top your drinks off with a little 'bird' symbol).

He is a very tidy housemate, however. He naturally just kind of picks up after himself. He's not one to keep everything 'spotless,' but things never look messy, either. The one thing you will find is little collectables and kitch that the two of you have picked up over time scattered all around your place.

Living with Crow is easy and in a word, effortless.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

If he were ever to end things with you (which is unlikely - but hypothetically), it truly would hurt him as much as (if not more) than it would hurt you. He wouldn't do so without a very good reason, but he is the type of partner who would always rather work things out with you than call it quits.

BUT. If he ever did, he would try to do so gently and privately, and would most likely go little-to-no-contact with you outside of obligations like missions and large events. Not because he wants nothing to do with you, but simply because being around you but not being with you is nearly unbearable to him now.

It will take him a very long time to move on, and even when he does he will always have a bit of a sore spot for you, regardless of how the two of you parted ways.

F = Fiancé (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Commitment comes naturally to Crow. Once you two become an item, you are never not on his mind in some fashion.

As for marriage, this is a different story. It's certainly not that he doesn't want to get married. He sees his relationship with you as a 'forever' situation already, and after such a long period of time where he felt as though he didn't deserve a happy relationship, much less a happy marriage, well... it just hadn't crossed his mind.

After a few years, someone ends up asking him about it, and his response is:

"I'm not sure. I haven't really thought about it; our relationship just feels so natural as it is. Do you... do you think they'd say yes if I asked...?"

After that, it's in his head rent-free, and it's really only a matter of time before he asks you.

It's nothing flashy, but one day, he arranges a small, low-stakes mission with you at your favourite spot (be it The Dreaming City, Neomuna, Europa - some place where you personally like to spend time, or a place that is significant to the two of you).

You do your thing as you would during any other mission; an unstoppable duo - effective and efficient. That night, you both decide to set up camp.

As you're chatting and enjoying a quiet moment together by the fire, he seems to be fidgeting with his hands more than usual. You're about to ask about it when he abruptly says:

"Oh! I, uh... I downloaded a new projection for Glint. It reminded us of you, so I couldn't resist. Glint, would you be so kind?"

You turn your head to Glint who chatters and nods excitedly; above his shell, hovering in the air, is a light blue projection of what appears to be a diamond ring. At first, you're confused, but as you turn your eyes back to Crow, you see him crouched on one knee, and in his hands is a small wooden box that he'd carved himself.

He doesn't even have time to get the question out, much less even open the ring box before you've tackled him to the ground with a resounding 'yes' that brings him a wave of relief.

When he does show you the ring, it turns out to be made of obsidian, and set with a small cutting of your favourite stone.

The wedding itself is intimate - only your closest friends are permitted to attend; and it's perfect. He's a nervous wreck up until the moment he turns to see you walking down the aisle, and his heart melts; all he can see in that moment is you. Your vows have his eyes glistening with tears; and as for his...

Crow's Vows:

"My beloved. When we first met, I was empty; just jumping from one situation to the next, waiting for things to fall into place. It felt like every time I thought things may be getting better, the rug would be pulled from under my feet, and I'd feel as though I was right back where I started. Like I was in an endless black pit, trying to move toward any trace of light I could find.

Then there was you. You were warmth. You were pure sunlight. You were - are, everything. Even after all this time, there are days where I look at you and I find myself expecting to wake up to find that this has all been a beautiful dream. Yet still, here you are.

I'm watching you become stronger, wiser, better... I'm in awe of you every day, and when you look at me the way you do, I realize that I have become a better version of myself, too.

I was born a new man in an old vessel under the Traveler; and I have become a different man all over again just by being by your side. I can't wait to see who we become, and how we grow together in the vast eternity before us; and I can't believe how lucky I am to get to be the one who gets to go on this adventure with you. I love you - more than yesterday, less than tomorrow - forever."

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

There are times you could swear Crow thinks you are made of glass. He is always checking in with you to make sure you're comfortable, and the very thought of ever hurting you is entirely foreign to him.

Emotionally, he's very in tune with the reactions of the people around him (due to his hyper-vigilance around others as a defense mechanism and trauma response), so with you, he can't really help it. Sometimes he may overdo it a little; he may ask if you're okay or if he did something wrong when he feels like you haven't spoken for a while, constantly worried that one day he'll mess this up. So obviously, he needs a fair amount of reassurance from you.

That being said, he can read you like a book the rest of the time. He notices the little things; the way you slightly part your lips when you're taken aback, the way your pupils dilate when you feel a twinge of fear, the way you shift your weight slightly to your other foot when you're anxious, the way your brows furrow when you're focusing, the way your eyes light up when you're excited - he notices it all.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it and what is it like?)

At first, Crow couldn't have cared less about hugs - until you gave him his first hug he could ever remember receiving, and he then realized just how touch-starved he was. It was like medicine for him - no matter how bad things were, a hug from you would never fail to bring him some much-needed comfort and security.

When he starts getting comfortable enough to be the one to initiate them, you realize he gives great hugs. He manages to hold you securely in his arms, but never too tightly so as to make you uncomfortable, and he always lets you decide when to stop; he's never the first to break a hug with you. He's especially fond of resting his chin on the top of your head when he's hugging you.

I = "I Love You" (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Crow knew that he loved you before the two of you even started a more romantic relationship; in fact Glint was the one to point it out to him one day, and the realization just clicked into place for him.

However, knowing this and actually telling you are two very different things. He kind of agonized over it for a while, worried that if he tried to say it too early, that it may either end in you pushing him away or feeling pressured to return the phrase if you didn't feel the same. He came close to saying it many times, but losing his nerve each time.

A few months into your relationship, and much to his surprise, you said it first.

You had been sent away on a long mission on Europa where the two of you were apart for months. You were able to use the comms to stay in touch for the first week or so, but as things got more and more intense, there were little to no opportunities to continue doing so. When you and your fireteam were successful and finally made it back, he was there to greet you at The Tower.

You dropped your pack and immediately rushed forward to throw yourself into his arms. You were so relieved to feel his warmth after months of bone-chilling temperatures, to feel his weight of his chin resting on your head, and to feel the reverberation of his soft chuckling in his chest at your reaction - it just kind of slipped out, muffled into the fabric of the mantel of his cloak.

You felt his entire body immediately tense for all of a second before he let out a sigh of relief and an:

"I love you, too."

He was riding the high of that moment for weeks after that, and frankly, so were you.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they get jealous?)

Crow isn't one to get particularly jealous or petty, but he does like to make it relatively clear that you're with him, and he's with you. Nothing crazy, he's not one to be a meathead about it, but when you're out together, he like to keep in physical contact with you.

At first, he would keep quiet and distant out of fear that you would be judged harshly if others saw you two being too close and showing any kind of affection, but once he realized you were proud to be seen with him, he couldn't keep his hands off of you.

He trusts you implicitly, and he never feels the need to worry that you'll give him a reason to feel jealous.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

At first, Crow's kisses are delicate and uncertain. In the beginning, he spends the majority of the relationship waiting for you to decide you've changed your mind about him, and he almost seems as though he's trying not to scare you off by being 'too much,' as he puts it.

As he gets more comfortable, however, he kisses you with more certainty; still gentle, but he allows more of that heat and passion to come through. You can literally feel how much he adores you through every kiss - and it always leaves you a little light-headed.

His favourite place to kiss you really is your lips; he finds your mouth hypnotizing most of the time, but aside from that, he's especially fond of kissing your collarbone and neck area (and during spicier times, he especially likes to kiss your inner thigh, but that's a detail we can explore another day).

As for him, he takes any affection and kisses he can get from you, but he's discovered that he loves it when you raise his hand to your mouth to kiss the inside of his wrists and fingertips; something about it just puts him on cloud nine every time.

L = Little Ones (How are they around children?)

Crow feels as though he's awkward around children, and says he never knows how to respond or talk to them, but children (whose views on him have not already been tainted by their parents) are naturally drawn to him.

Something about him makes them curious; fascinated. They feel safe around him, and they enjoy being around him because he doesn't talk down to them, but rather, talks to them like he would any other person, just with even more patience and understanding.

You once happened across him at The Tower to see him giving a small group of children piggyback rides, each of them clamoring to be up next. You found yourself chuckling, and stopping to watch them for a while before continuing on your way. You're not sure whether or not he saw you, but you decided not to bring it up.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Mornings with Crow are warm and tender. When he's the first to wake up, he likes to watch you as you dream away beside him, drifting his fingers gently over your jawline, careful not to wake you right away. If you're the first to rise, whenever you've decided to wake him up, he always pulls you into a groggy hug with a huff and a sigh. It can be a challenge to get him to fully come to, mainly because he feels like he could just stay curled up in bed with you the whole day if he could.

After that, he's up making your favourite morning drink, whatever it may be (he has an affinity for it, after all), while you get started on breakfast. He loves to try to sneak in a few kisses during the process, though.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights with Crow range from warm and cuddly to passionate and spicy, depending on his emotional needs. Either way, he likes to take some time to ask about your day while he does something nice for you, be it rubbing your shoulders, or even just holding you. You two have been known to chat all hours into the night - but time means almost nothing when you're together.

Though he will never turn down a massage from you, he loves to give you massages every night - it's almost as much for his own enjoyment as it is yours; but you have to admit, he is fantastic with his hands (take that however you'd like).

O = Open (When will they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or do they reveal little things slowly?)

At the beginning, Crow is an island. Always quiet, always mysterious, always completely out reach; and he keeps it that way for quite some time before he starts noticing your kindness is a pattern not born of pity or habit, but simply because that's who you are.

After that, it's breadcrumbs; his process of opening up to you is painfully slow, but all the more rewarding as you continue to get to know him, and in turn, watch him learn to become more and more comfortable in his own skin.

P = Patience (How easily are they angered?)

Crow is seemingly more measured to the naked eye, but he's more hot-headed than people think, and despite his calm demeanor, he has quite a temper deep down.

You've learned to notice the signs; his chest rises and falls a slightly heavier than usual, his jaw tenses a little, his eyes seem to take on a brighter tinge of orange, and most of all, you can feel the heat off of him.

He is, however, very adept at managing his anger; he is terrified of ending up just like Uldren Sov, allowing his anger to turn him cruel and tyrannical, and he refuses to allow this to come to pass.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every detail or forget the minor things?)

Sure, he forgets things on rare occasion; so does everyone. Still, he is a wonderful listener who genuinely wants to know everything about you. In fact, the only one who knows you better than Crow is your own Ghost.

He knows all the basics; your favourite colour, how you like your coffee (if you even like coffee in the first place), your favourite place to be alone, your favourite weapons... he could go on about you for hours to anyone who would listen.

Above all else, though, he knows your touch and scent in a room of hundreds. He could be blindfolded and know how your hands feel on his skin immediately.

R = Remember (What is their favourite moment of your relationship?)

Crow has many moments that could be considered 'favourites.' Your first two-person mission together, the first time you stood up for him against another guardian who saw him as nothing more than Uldren reborn, sharing a round drinks with you and Amanda as friends, the time you accidentally fell asleep and rested your head on his shoulder; there are endless examples.

Still to this day however, your first kiss takes the number one spot for him.

You were on one of many missions together, and the two of you hadn't started anything romantic yet (though you had both been dancing around the idea for a while at this point). You had been separated from the rest of your fireteam. On your way back to them, the two of you encountered one of the biggest squadrons of Vex you'd ever seen. It was going to be a long, difficult fight - but you both fought together as if you were born to do it.

It was almost as if it were a choreographed dance.

The fight ended with you and Crow - practically nose-to-nose, each letting out one final shot to two approaching Vex goblins from behind you.

Chests heaving, the two of you locked eyes in a breathless moment of silence - then his lips were on yours. He quickly started to pull away with an apology before you pulled him back in.

As a broken Vex goblin twitched on the ground beside you, he loosed a final shot from his handcannon into it before tucking it away and wrapping his arms around you; sharing a kiss with you that would put most movie romances to shame.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Crow is highly protective of you. He's protective of all his friends, really, but he truly fears something happening to you. He wasn't particularly used to the idea of protecting or being protected himself when he was first resurrected. Working under Spider wasn't exactly the kind of employment that inspired selflessness.

However, not only were you instrumental in getting him away from Spider, he remembers the first time another guardian attempted to attack him during one of his earlier visits to The Tower, and he was left in awe when he watched you tear a strip off of them and lay them flat.

You protected him on many occasions, even when he told you not to worry about it - you simply wouldn't tolerate that disrespect under any circumstances.

At one point, the two of you were on a mission where you had been separated, with you having crash-landed your ship in a crater field on The Moon. There was no response from you on the comms, but you were stuck under a piece of the wreck, and badly injured. Even more concerningly, there was no response from your Ghost, either. Crow immediately started following the trail of smoke to your location on his own.

When he arrived, a group of Hive had started to advance on your location. You were completely unconscious and to his horror, he watched as a Hive knight wrapped their claws around your then-battered, and barely-responsive Ghost. The knight started to attempt to crush them before Crow severed the arm and retrieved your Ghost faster than the Hive could blink.

Your consciousness started to return just as Crow was in the midst of fighting them off. You had never seen Crow fight as ferociously as he had that day. You had seen him in the field before, and he was very impressive in his own right, but it was nothing like this. This was one of the only times you could recall seeing him enraged.

T = Try (How much effort do they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

This man has so much try. Every date, he's practically breaking his back to try to pamper you in every way he can (even though you tell him he can just relax and enjoy himself). He insists this is part of enjoying himself - taking care of you makes him exceedingly happy.

"I know we're together, now; but don't think that means I'll ever stop trying to win your heart all over again."

Anniversaries are special to him - it marks the day where your adventure together started when you took things to the next level, and he likes to reflect on how fortunate he feels to have made it another year with you. He prefers to plan anniversaries with you rather than surprise you; planning trips or escapes together with you brings him so much excitement. He does, however, but a great deal of effort into finding or creating something special for you, and he somehow manages to outdo himself again and again every year.

Gift-giving is one if his love languages; especially when it comes to things he finds or makes himself. Sure, he'll bring you things he's bought on occasion, but he especially likes to bring you interesting trinkets he's hunted down or created.

As for everyday tasks, he's subtle; when you two start living together, you both have your own little 'tasks' around the place that you do to keep the place tidy and liveable, but sometimes, you'll have gotten home feeling particularly exhausted, and he makes sure you're fed and comfortable before quietly finishing the task himself, insisting that you relax tonight.

"You'd do the same for me."

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Crow, though he's consistently working on this, is painfully doubtful of his own worth both as a guardian and as a partner. This leads him to be habitually self-sacrificing even when there's no reason to be. He sees the value and strength in all others, but he's blind to his own, and though he does get a little better at it as he goes on, he has a hard time accepting compliments.

On a lighter note, he also can not hold his liquor; his tolerance is incredibly low.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He tries not to let it show, but he gets a little bit insecure about his appearance, and he does fret about his looks more than he cares to admit - especially now that he has you. He knows you would never judge him for his physical appearance, but he can't help but want to look good in front of you.

He's already an effective hunter in his own right, but if he's teamed up with you, he is a little flashier than usual in a subtle attempt to show off for you a little bit.

A comment had been made once about his haircut, and it wasn't long before he'd decided to change it. If you were to ask him why he made such a decision, his response would simply be:

"No reason - I just felt like I was ready for a change, that's all. Why? Do you... do you like it?"

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Entirely. He had started to accept his solitude before he met you - before he met Amanda. There was a time he'd decided that some guardians weren't made for fireteams and comraderie- that some guardians were meant to accomplish far more on their own.

Once he started to realize that he was worthy of friendship, respect, understanding, compassion, and love, he realized that his connections with the people closest to him made him feel complete.

Of course, losing any of his friends and teammates would weigh heavily on him; but especially once you two grew closer, he knew that losing you would leave a deep wound in him that he would never be able to mend. It would, in a word, shatter him entirely.

He would do his best to move on, but it would be a very long time before he would feel like himself again.

You are his lifeline - and he is endlessly devoted to keeping you safe at all costs.

X = X-tra (A random head-canon for them)

Crow likes to collect things; little interesting trinkets and things he comes across during missions and excursions.

Being a relatively anxious person, he also tends to fidget - a lot. He feels like he always needs to be doing something with his hands. Sharping his dagger, doing little knife tricks, tinkering with something, writing in a notebook, whittling pieces of wood into interesting shapes; he's never completely still, even if he always seems outwardly calm.

He is also just very good with his hands in general, and as far as you're concerned, gives the world's best massages.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn't like, either in general or in a partner?)

Generally, there are a few things Crow doesn't like; unnecessary conflict, and he's not huge on eggs (for the texture, not the flavour, he says). Most of all, crowds - he does not like crowds. They make him feel unsafe and overwhelmed.

He is able to enjoy crowded events and celebrations to an extent, but he's usually one of the first to be ready to leave, and he will be in need of some quiet solitude to recharge.

As for partners, he has a few pet peeves; loud chewers would be one of his more minor ones, but he couldn't tolerate a partner with no compassion. He fully understands that sometimes difficult decisions need to be made for the greater good, but someone who can easily be callous and heartless for the sake of progress or personal gain is not a person he feels safe around.

"I know I've made some bad choices in my past - we all have. But at least I have the decency to feel some way about it when I do. It eats me up inside - and I think it should. I think it makes us less likely to take those decisions too lightly in the future."

Z = Zzz (What are some sleeping habits of theirs?)

Crow is a borderline insomniac and a very light sleeper. He's always been plagued by nightmares, but they'd gotten much worse after The Season of the Haunted. Despite finding a certain amount of closure by the end of the season, his nightmares remain an issue, and he's simply been learning to deal with them however he can - Glint would usually wake him up so he could get himself calm enough to try to sleep again.

Having you to cuddle up to at night has not made them any better, unfortunately, but waking up to feel you there beside him has made the process of finding his footing in reality much faster and far more pleasant. Despite his nightmares, he wakes up feeling far more rested than he ever did before; and he's eternally grateful to you for that.

(Image Credit - Wesley Gardner)

That's all, folks! Thanks for reading. See you next time, o guardian mine.

~ Pyretta Wychwiggin

[pyrettawychwiggin]

Come With Me (Oneshot) - Crow x Guardian (Destiny 2)

The following oneshot contains spoilers for The Final Shape beneath the cut. Tread carefully, Guardian.

What to Expect: SFW, fluff, cute

I put this together shortly after Ch'ak and I completed The Final Shape campaign. I've been a bit of Crow stan ever since I first started playing, so naturally, I ship my own hunter with him pretty hard-core.

That being said, seeing as how my Guardian, Vera, respected and got along well with Amanda, she rooted for her and Crow despite her feelings, honestly feeling that she would be good for him (until they hit their rocky patch). If anything were to happen between she and Crow now, I feel like it would be a bit of a slow burn, so maybe eventually I'll write more about them.

Anywho, enjoy!

♡

♡

♡

The words kept echoing in her head.

Vera sat atop the overlook high above the dreaming city, one leg tucked into her chest, the other dangling over the ledge. She gazed out to the skies shimmering in hues of ammolite, a stark contrast to the pearlescent white structures towering over the misty green landscape.

Now, you tell the others that this was my choice.

She removed her helmet and set it aside with a huff, feeling more and more constricted by her grief.

My Light.

She felt her chest grow tight, and the familiar sting of tears threatening to fall.

Nobody makes my fate but me.

Her hands burned with the phantom sensation of Cayde's over hers.

You're my favourite. Don't ever forget that.

Her mind returning to the moment Cayde's Light - that bittersweet cataclysm - crashed through her consciousness and brought Doppler back to her - but at a cost she wished he hadn't needed to pay.

"Vera?" Doppler hovered just a few feet away at her side. "Maybe we should get back."

"Sorry, Dopps - just..." Vera shook her head and sniffled, using the palm of her hand to dry her waterline. "Just a little bit longer."

"Well, alright..."

Dopps' robotic tone was still full of concern. Usually his guardian was far more forthcoming with her feelings; she notoriously wore her heart on her sleeve, but ever since they'd returned from the Pale Heart for the final time since the Witness' unmaking, it felt as if her heart had been sealed off in a steel vault. On occasion, he'd see her eyes brimming with the shine of tears, but she wasn't allowing herself to fully break down like he knew she needed to; the next moment, her expression would harden again; as if she were actively reigning herself in - blocking off her feelings, which most certainly was not like her.

"I'm here," he said softly, almost as if he was afraid that breaking the silence would shatter her into dust. "If you need to talk."

Vera nodded before Dopps disappeared to give her a moment of privacy. Perhaps if she wouldn't allow herself to cry in front of him, she'd be more comfortable if there was no one else around.

The area was silent and still once more, but Vera's expression remained blank. She had no idea how long she'd been there, or how long she planned on staying, but she knew if she really wanted, she had all the time in the world; which perhaps made the whole concept all the more maddening.

"Guardian," a familiar voice broke the silence once more, making her jolt a little. "I thought I'd find you here."

Crow carefully approached her, stopping about a meter away to wait for her to respond.

"Crow." Vera rasped, keeping her back turned to him, silently hoping he'd keep this encounter brief. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, for one, you could talk to me." To her dismay, Crow sighed and took a seat on the ledge beside her, giving her a sidelong glance. "You haven't been yourself since we got back. We're all getting a little worried."

"I don't know how to talk about it. This all still doesn't quite feel real, yet."

"Mm." Crow nodded and took a heavy breath, turning his gaze beyond the horizon. "Maybe start with telling me... how are you feeling right now?"

"It changes with each passing thought." Vera frowned and shook her head, furrowing her brow as she attempted to find the words to describe what was in her heart. "I'm furious, I'm heartbroken, I'm confused, but most of all, I feel.... guilty."

"Guilty? Crow turned his head to look at her again, eyebrows raised in surprise at her choice of words. "Don't tell me you blame yourself for Cayde?"

"No, I... I feel guilty for feeling the way that I do."

"What do you mean?"

"I just can't help but think about the lightless folk. People die around them all the time - and for good - no Ghost to resurrect them from a bullet to the heart or a knife to the throat." Vera hugged her knee closer to her chest. "How many of them have lost people they'd loved and wished more than anything to get to see them one more time; to have one more conversation with them to find that closure they never got to have beforehand?"

Crow frowned and nodded slowly, allowing her to continue her thought.

"We did. We were so lucky to have gotten to hear his smart-ass voice again, and yet I can't help but feel that it just..." Vera's shoulders started to quiver as she felt herself beginning to break. "Wasn't enough."

Crow shuffled closer to the Awoken hunter and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, gently resting his cheek on the top of her head while tears finally started to trickle down her face. She leaned back against him, despite the tingling of her skin that begged her to push him away.

"No amount of time is enough when it comes to someone you love," Crow sighed, feeling his own heart ache for his own losses as well as Vera's. "Were you two really that close?"

"When I first arrived - after Dopps woke me up - I was all over the place." Vera sniffled. "Cayde was also... well, all over the place, but I think that's why I could relate to him. His chaos was like a mirrored version of my own, just so, so much brighter. He was one of my first friends."

"Just friends?" Crow chuckled, giving her arm a playful shake. "I always assumed there was more to it than that."

"No, never." Vera shrugged. She cast her eyes out across the vast landscape and smiled numbly. "He was more like a big brother in my eyes. Or, maybe a mentor - of some sort? I don't know. I loved him with all my heart - but not... like that."

The two Hunters sat in silence for a while before Crow cleared his throat.

"There's a private vigil for Cayde back at the Tower tonight; there won't be many people there, it's really just Cayde's closest friends." He dropped his arm and rose to his feet, dusting himself off and offering a hand to her. "Come with me?"

Vera gulped, staring at his open palm with hesitance. "I don't know if I'll be able to keep it together long enough to be social..."

"You don't have to be social if you don't want to," Crow replied with a sympathetic half-smile and a slight tilt of his head. "Just stick with me; I can do the brunt of the talking today if that's what you need."

Crow... Vera nearly felt as though she'd crumble. He's dealing with his own pain and grief, but he's still looking out for me...

"Okay." Vera wiped her tears off on her sleeve and took his hand, letting him gently hoist her up to her feet, his grip lingering for just a few seconds longer than necessary. "Thank you, Crow. And by the way..."

"Hm?" Crow waited for her to continue.

"I, uh... I like the hair." Vera gave Crow the first genuine smile she'd had for quite some time. "It's nice being able to see the rest of your face."

"O-oh." Crow averted his eyes, his ears darkening slightly in a soft blush. He scratched the bridge of his nose with a bashful chuckle under his breath before silently working up a small ounce of courage, reaching out to softly drift his fingers over her jawline. "Thank you, Vera."

"See?" Glint excitedly popped out from behind Crow's shoulder. "I told you she'd like it."

Crow's shoulders jumped with surprise before he turned and frantically shushed his ghost, making Vera laugh for the first time in weeks.

"I haven't seen you laugh for weeks!" Dopps returned, hovering around Vera almost as if he were dancing with glee, turning to Crow and stating, "you really do bring out the best in her."

"Dopps! Seriously?" Vera hissed, face warm and flushed at the ghost's lack of tact.

Laughing and arm-in-arm, the two hunters transmatted back to the Tower for one last celebration of their fallen hero.

[pyrettawychwiggin]

No Harm Done (Oneshot) - Crow x Guardian (Destiny 2)

The following oneshot may contain spoilers from around The Season of the Haunted beneath the cut. Tread carefully, Guardian.

What to Expect: SFW, fluff, cute, semi-platonic

The following scene takes place at some point during The Season of the Haunted.

Enjoy!

Vera lay splayed out on her emergency bedroll on a bench in the H.E.L.M. snoring and tucked under the fold of the grey, plastic-like covering. She hadn't managed to get a half-decent night's rest for weeks since her latest series of missions on Nessus, and the very thought of hauling her groggy Awoken ass back to the city and through the streets to her flat felt nothing short of laughable. As soon as she'd arrived at the H.E.L.M. with her fireteam to split their loot and part ways, she knew she was in no condition to fly.

She had been out cold for a few hours before a voice started echoing in her subconscious.

"Vera?"

Vera scrunched her nose in her sleep, rolling over in response to the strange noise calling her name from beyond the sleep.

"Vera, please wake up."

The voice was insistent - full of concern.

Her eyes fluttered open slowly to see the burgundy shell of Crow's ghost hovering in front of her.

"Glint?" Vera rubbed her eyes as she slowly sat up, letting the top half of her bedroll crinkle down to her hips to reveal her in a simple white tank top and slate gray sweatpants. "What is it? Is everything alright?"

"I'm sorry to wake you up, it's just-" he was speaking in a hushed, hurried tone, twitching from one side to the other. "It's Crow."

"Crow?" Vera frowned, swinging her legs around the side of her cot to set her bare feet on the ground. "Is he alright?"

"Well, he has... nightmares. That's normal for him, but usually, I just wake him up." Glint cast his eye down to the ground and shook from side to side. "This time, I can't seem to snap him out of it - he won't wake up. He's all wrapped up in this one, and I'm getting worried."

"Take me to him." Vera pulled herself to her feet and followed Glint around the corridors of the H.E.L.M. to where Crow had clearly fashioned a makeshift cot for himself in a small room tucked out of the way. Vera suspected it had once been a closet for janitorial use.

Sure enough, Crow was there, tucked under tattered covers that weren't quite long enough to cover his feet, head resting on his folded up hunter's cape.

"Crow?" Vera called softly, awkwardly taking a few steps closer. There was no response. As she got closer to the side of his cot, she noticed he was sweating, his breathing ragged and nearly laboured. He tossed and turned, his face contorting as if he were experiencing some manner of agony. Vera tried to call out again. "Crow, wake up. You're only dreaming."

Still nothing. Glint let out a small series of electric chatters and chirps.

"Come on, Crow." Vera reached out to rest a hand on his shoulder and gave him a gentle shake. "Snap out of it!"

To her shock, Crow's hand snapped up to grasp her arm, yanking her off her feet and onto her back on the other side of the cot. Before she could blink, he was on top of her, panting with his knife to her throat, his other hand clasped around her wrists, holding her arms over her head.

"Whoa, hey! Crow!" Vera raised her voice in alarm. "It's me!"

Crow's glowing harvest moon eyes snapped open, pupils dilated, chest heaving. At first, his vision was dark and blurred, not allowing him to fully comprehend what was in front of him. In this moment, he felt the familiar fight-or-flight panic in his bones; a them-or-me type of fear that had become as close to home as he'd known ever since Glint had brought him into this life.

"Crow! Stop!" Glint's voice cut through his panic as he flashed in front of him in one frantic movement.

"What....?" Crow breathed, brow furrowed in confusion. As he looked down to the figure pinned beneath him, his vision came into focus to reveal the Awoken huntress, a pinprick trickle of blood from her neck at the tip of his blade. She looked up at him with wide, pale moonlight-coloured eyes, lavender lips parted as she regarded him with intermingling fear and concern.

As if his dagger were suddenly coated in molten lava, he flung the blade to the ground with a gasp and released Vera's wrists, palms up in surrender.

"Vera! I-" Crow stammered. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I-I thought -"

"Hey, no harm done." Vera smiled at him, trying (and failing) to ease his guilt with a joke and a crooked grin. "As far as I can tell, I still have all nine of my limbs."

Crow frowned, clearly not amused at Vera's attempt to lighten the atmosphere.

"Vera, you shouldn't shrug this off," he sighed. "I almost killed you. Do you realize that?"

"Do you realize it wouldn't have mattered?" Vera rolled her eyes. "You're not the only guardian here, you know. We live, we die, we come back - rinse and repeat; it's what we do. It's the circle of Light and all that-"

"But you would have had to do so at my hand!" Crow snapped. "I've had to resurrect more times than I can count because of... other guardians."

Crow averted his eyes, remembering the multitude of times a disgruntled guardian had taken out their unending hatred for Uldren out on him - usually in the form of a bullet to the head.

"Crow, stop." Vera gently placed her hands on his cheeks, her expression serious and determined. "I know you. When you get like this, you tend to spiral. You're far too hard on yourself as it is."

"One of us should be..." Crow replied, almost too quietly for Vera to hear.

She sighed and pursed her lips, grasping Crow's chest by the fabric of his shirt and yanking him down into her arms, his head tucked into the crook of her neck.

"Wh-what are you-"

"Hush." Vera ran her fingers through his hair, feeling the tension in his shoulders begin to relax. "There's no talking to you when you're like this, and you clearly haven't gotten a full night's rest in who knows how long - frankly, neither have I. So, sleep. We can talk this out in the morning."

"What if I try to hurt you again?" Crow whispered, cheeks warm with embarrassment to Vera's intimately close proximity. "What if I just have another nightmare?"

"Then I'll be here to chase them away for you." Vera rested her chin on top of Crow's head, gently pulling the covers up to his shoulders. "You're my friend, Crow. You won't hurt me. And I'm not going anywhere."

Glint hovered nearby, drifting idly in relief. Vera gave him a nod, allowing him to tuck himself away for the night.

Humming a simple melody softly under her breath, she felt Crow's heartbeat return to normal, and his breathing slowed as he drifted back to a dreamless sleep not long before she followed.

[pyrettawychwiggin]

Sneak Peek: Anis Body Pillow (Nikke: Goddess of Victory)

I've uploaded the lineart for Anis' body pillow on our Ko-Fi/Patreon pages! If you're a member, you'll get to see the progress posts as they come, so check it out here! 💛

I'm making this as a personal gift, and it's been super fun so far! ♡

[pyrettawychwiggin]

Songstress of Skyrim - Masterlist

Disclaimer: The following story is centered around my own character, Mhari Freysri, who is the only character in this piece that I own. All other characters and elements of the world within the Elder Scrolls series is the intellectual property of Bethesda. This story contains, not just massive spoilers, but is in and of itself one very long spoiler, as it is based off of my playthrough of Skyrim: Special Edition. You have been advised. Please enjoy this newest installment of my cringy fanfiction.

Please note: chapters and sub-chapters are posted chronologically in the order in which they are intended to be read; stay tuned for more updates as chapters are posted!

~ Behind-The-Screen Content ~

• Author's Introduction - a note from me about what this story is, what to expect, and hopefully it can answer any questions you may have about it as a whole.

~ The Story Begins ~

Mhari arrives at the docks of Solitude; young and bright-eyed, ready to seek out her fortune at the Bard's College, and to start building a life for herself in this strange new land. (Haafingar Hold/The Bard's College)

• Character Sheet 1 (Mhari Freysri) - the first of what will likely be many character sheets for Mhari throughout her story.

• Chapter 1: Welcome To Solitude - Mhari finally arrives in Solitude. She witnesses a gruesome scene beyond the gates, and seeks out a drink and a room at The Winking Skeever to ease her nerves.

• Chapter 2: Among Bards & Madmen - Mhari takes a stroll through Solitude and arrives at The Bards College, and she's confronted by a strange man with an even stranger request...

~ Sub-Chapter 1: The Bearer of Bad News - Mhari takes some time to talk to a few more Solitude residents and run some errands. When she hears of the alchemist's missing daughter, she takes it upon herself to find out what happened to her.

~ Sub-Chapter 2: Honouring the Dead - Mhari, having realized there seems to be no shortage of death and tension in Skyrim, takes time to collect her thoughts and pay her respects to the fallen.

~ Sub-Chapter 3: The Price of Spice (Coming Soon...)

* more to be announced...

~ The Pursuit of the Arcane ~

* to be announced... (Winterhold, The Daedric Princes, The Reach & The Pale)

~ The Trials of Kyne ~

* to be announced... (The Wilds of Skyrim)

~ Blood and Coin ~

* to be announced... (The Rift, The Thieves Guild)

~ Bound In Darkness ~

* to be announced... (The Dark Brotherhood)

~ A New Leaf ~

* to be announced... (The Dawnguard, Morthal)

~ Dovahkiin ~

* to be announced... (The Main Questline; The Companions)

~ The Art of War ~

* to be announced...(The Civil War & Eastmarch)

~ One Last Adventure ~

* to be announced... (Solsteim)

~ Horizon ~

* to be announced... (The Final Chapters)

[pyrettawychwiggin]

Songstress of Skyrim (Author's Introduction)

Disclaimer: The following story is centered around my own character, Mhari Freysri, who is the only character in this piece that I own. All other characters and elements of the world within the Elder Scrolls series is the intellectual property of Bethesda. This story contains, not just massive spoilers, but is in and of itself one very long spoiler, as it is based off of my playthrough of Skyrim. You have been advised. I hope you enjoy my cringy fanfiction.

My dear reader,

Drem Yol Lok.

1. First off, thank you for taking the time to have a peek at this forward. Admittedly, I didn't think this would be necessary when I first started writing about my character, but seeing as how this story is going to be very long, I would be remiss if I were not to include a proper disclaimer to any potential readers. I guess you could say this would be a good description of how best to consume this story depending on what you're looking to get out of it. Mind you, I will try to keep things as spoiler-free as I am able.

This entire story is based off of my own playthrough of Skyrim; a playthrough that I wanted to do as completely and fully as I could, side-quests and all. This likely will mean there is quite a lot of filler; some may find that this adds to the overall character-building, but others may find this a more dry read than they were looking for. As a result, I have separated chapters into two categories; Chapters & Sub-Chapters.

Chapters are particularly imperative to Mhari's story. This will cover the entirety of the main quest, the war, and the main factions and guilds. Any other chapters that involve events of particular importance will also fall under this category.

Sub-Chapters are best suited for getting to know Mhari better as a character, seeing how she would go about various tasks and interactions. Sometimes these chapters may be much shorter than a full-chapter, but they will likely not hold as much importance to the overall story.

Both chapters and sub-chapters, however, are still posted in chronological order in which they are meant to be read.

2. Secondly, Mhari changes in various ways throughout the story, and at each major turning point in her story, a new updated character sheet will be provided. This offers a brief synopsis of Mhari's adventure thus far for any readers who are joining the journey at later chapters so that they won't be missing anything major should they choose to skip the storylines that do not interest them.

3. Thirdly, some chapters will come with song-titles to various music (sometimes during certain parts of the story) much like was noted at the very beginning of this post. These songs are meant to further create atmosphere; most of which are instrumental or ambient. I know this does not appeal to everyone, so you will not be missing anything should you choose to bypass this option. If this does interest you, you can likely find these songs on Youtube, Spotify, etc. (I will likely not be posting links as I do not want to have to continuously update them should videos be taken down, privated, etc).

*Furthermore, should you be a musical artist, and you find you are seeing your work in a chapter that you would rather not, please feel free to message me. I will not hesitate to remove it upon your request.

4. Please be advised that some storylines carry more weight for me than others, and there may be certain storylines that you are particularly interested in, but are uninterested in reading the possibly dozens of previous chapters. In the next post, I will offer an index of events so that you may better decide which chapter you want to start on. For example, if you don't care about Solitude and The Bard's College, but you are looking forward to The Companions or the Civil War, you can see in the index which chapter to see or start on.

5. Lasty, some chapters may include 18+/NSFW scenes - these will be written in fade-to-black style. For those of you who are over 18 who would like to read the juicy parts in all their uncensored glory, they will be available for members on our Ko-Fi/Patreon.

If this doesn't bother you, and you intend to start from chapter one, I commend you; and once again, I thank you for taking the time to read my cringy fanfiction.

Note that I have written about a dozen chapters already, sporadically, but will only be posting my chapters in order. I appreciate your patience for any gaps between writing. Each chapter will be available at least a week earlier to members on our Ko-Fi/Patreon.

Without further ado, I would now like to invite you to join Mhari on her adventure through Skyrim, and whatever that may hold; the good, the bad, and the dovah.

Voth Werid,

Pyretta Wychwiggin

[pyrettawychwiggin]

'Waning Crimson' (Gothic Fall Wear)

Another design from my little gothic collection! I wanted to put something together for those awkward autumn months where the temperature could really go either way. If the temperature dips, like the idea of using some light, fleece-lined leggings rather normal ones.

I also love that this set would go great with a Freddy-Krueger-inspired sweater, too - but to each their own.

There's a few parts of this outfit that I know already exists for purchase:

- Sunglasses & Book-of-Shadows Handbag (Killstar)

- The leather jacket is heavily based on one I bought years ago from Velcom.

If you end up wearing this in real life, I'd love to see your own personal spin on it! Tag me! ❤️

[pyrettawychwiggin]

'The Iron Angel: The Tale of Maria Røntgen' - Chapter 1: Welcome to Megaton

(A Fallout 3 Fanfiction)

Please be advised: the following story is based around my own playthrough of Fallout 3, and is basically one loooooonnnnnnngggggg spoiler. So, obviously, SPOILER ALERT. Maria Røntgen is my own original character I've created for this story, but all other assets are the intellectual of Bethesda Softworks. Please support the official release.

================

If you haven't already, feel free to check out Maria's character sheet here to get an idea of who she is before you begin. Alright, onto the story...

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As Maria pushed the door open and took her first step into the open air of the wastes, her eyes flooded with the harsh light of the midday sun. Squinting, she held an arm up to shield her eyes with a wince.

The air was hot - hotter than she'd ever imagined, but as her eyes slowly began to adjust to the light, she found herself in awe. Looking over the rocks and out to the wastes, she was seeing the open sky for the first time in her life, and an endless horizon that she could barely fathom.

Strange... she thought to herself. I'd always heard the sky would be blue. I guess that must have been more common during pre-war times.

Maria adjusted Butch's switchblade to settle on it's clip on her belt and started making her way down the dusty dirt path.

As she continued down the way, she started to hear the faint sound of shrill music; it sounded like a flute being played through a tin can, accompanied by a harsh snare drum.

As she rounded the corner and into the small abandoned town of Springvale, she watched a strange floating mechanical orb as it patrolled back and forth along the broken streets, paying her no mind.

Over the rocks and sandy hills, she could see the shadows of what appeared to be a large metal structure. Curious, she made her way closer.

When she arrived, she had to crane her neck up to see it's entirety; a massive composition of sheet metal and scrap with what appeared to be a jet engine over the centre of it. A robot in a cowboy hat, about the same height as Maria, stood alert outside the entrance of the structure.

"W e l c o m e   to   M e g a t o n." No sooner than the robot spoke did the engine whir to life, slowly pulling two large slats of metal aside to reveal a door.

"E n j o y   y o u r   v i s i t."

"Er, thanks." Maria cleared her throat, pulled open the door and stepped into the settlement.

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"Whoa..." Maria breathed, her eyes taking in the sight before her. An entire city constructed of scrap metal towered around her, bustling with wastelanders of all kinds. Down the path to the centre of the settlement sat a massive black bomb. Maria's stomach dropped at the sight.

"Well, lookee here. Another newcomer." A man's voice pulled Maria out of her awe. She turned to see a bearded, dark-skinned wastelander in a leather duster and a cattleman hat drawn over his eyes. "Hope you're not here to cause trouble."

"Oh, uh, hello," Maria stammered. "My name's Maria; nice to meet you mister..."

"Simms. Lucas Simms." He held out a hand for her to shake, tilting his chin up to make eye contact with her. He seemed to be regarding her with caution. "I'm the town's sheriff. I keep the peace around here."

"Oh, you'll get no trouble from me, Sheriff." Maria raised her hands in surrender with an easy smile. "Though, it seems you folks don't seem too concerned about danger... has anyone considered dealing with that bomb down there?"

"If any of us knew how, we would." Lucas shrugged and clicked his tongue. "Why, you volunteerin'?"

"I don't know about that - I've got a pretty basic knowledge on explosives, but nothing as dire as a bomb. Especially one of that size."

"Well, if you do find a way to disarm it for good, there's a hefty reward waiting for you." Lucas patted her shoulder. "Just don't go messing with it unless you're sure."

"No arguments here. Besides..." Maria's eyes started scanning the faces of the town's residents. "I'm really just looking for my father."

"Your father?"

"Yeah, middle-aged man, about yay tall..." Maria held her hand up higher to her father's approximate height. "We came from Vault 101 not far from here."

"Hm, can't say it rings any bells. Sorry," he shrugged. "But most folks swing by Moriarty's Saloon up the path around the edge of the walls. He might be able to point you in the right direction."

"Thanks; I'll head there next, then." Maria gave him a curt nod and started to step by him when he stopped her with a firm hand on her shoulder.

"But just a fair warning - don't trust the man." Lucas spoke low, his tone grave with his warning. "He'd sell his mother for a slice of rotting Mirelurk meat if he had one. He's not your friend, alright?"

"Thanks for the warning, Sheriff; I'll be careful."

Maria followed the path up to the saloon, and pushed the doors open.

=============================

=============================

"Come on, ya piece of junk..." a raspy man's voice grumbled over the sound of static. "Work, dammit."

Maria noticed a bartender tinkering with a hissing radio, his back turned away from her. An attractive woman with short red hair and a form-hitting sky blue jumpsuit leaned in the doorframe of a small room at the other side of the bar, rolling her eyes.

"Give it up, Gob," she sighed, taking a drag from her cigarette, leaving a trace of cherry lipstick around the stark white tip. "It's not the radio - it's GNR. Something's been up with their signal lately."

The bartender seemed to be ignoring her as he shook and smacked the radio, muttering raspy profanities under his breath. Maria slowly made her way up to the bar.

"Why-" he adjusted the antenna.

"Won't-" he fidgeted with the tuning dial.

"You-" he shook the radio with both hands.

"Work?" He smacked the side of the radio, earning him a solid two seconds of clear sound before the static returned.

"Er, excuse me, sir?" Maria tapped the man on the shoulder and nearly jumped out of her skin when he turned to face her. "JESUSFUCKINGCHRIST."

The bartender was only a few inches taller than Maria, with a ill-fitting white tee shirt and cargo pants, a dirty bar towel hanging from his pocket. However, where Maria was expecting to see a typical face - nose, flesh and all - she saw what appeared to be either a talking corpse, or the most unfortunate burn victim she ever imagined she'd see.

There was a triangular pit where a nose should be and wisps of light brown hair in frayed patches on his scalp. His eyes seemed to have once been baby blue, but had now taken on a milky gloss, fading their colour only slightly. Every patch of visible skin seemed to be covered in the same kinds of burns, revealing deep red scars, purple veins, and muscle tissue. In some places, skin seemed to be in the process of sloughing right off.

"What's the matter?" He sighed, placing the radio down, his brow bone rising as he folded his arms. "Never seen a Ghoul before?"

"A Ghoul...?" Maria gulped, feeling her heartbeat slow back to a normal pace. Not sensing that he was hostile, she took a seat at the bar as the initial shock passed. "What's that?"

"Well, not all of us got to hide out in a fancy vault when the bombs dropped." Gob gestured to the vault jumpsuit she was wearing. "Some of us got a big dose of radiation. Most of 'em died, obviously, but those of us that didn't, well..."

"And people call you Ghouls?" Maria frowned. "That doesn't seem right..."

"Well, look at the way you reacted when you saw me." He shrugged, picking up a shot glass and wiping it, moving his eyes to his task. He seemed to be masking a long-standing exhaustion on the subject. "When you've got a face like ground Brahmin meat, folks don't always treat you the best."

"I am sorry about that - I just..." Maria felt guilty about her reaction, now. "I've never seen a.... Ghoul before. I wasn't expecting it."

"S'alright, kid. Ya get used to it after a few decades."

"Though, now that that first shock has passed, well..." Maria trailed off, regarding the bartender curiously for a few seconds. "It's really not so bad."

Gob's eyes snapped back up to meet hers in shock.

"Really? Ya mean it?"

Maria did meant it. Despite his burns, she could see his eyes were still bright and expressive, and his smile, though crooked, was a kind one that made her want to smile back. He had rather broad shoulders despite his relatively lean frame, and strong hands, no doubt from his labours of work. He had the slightest belly that complimented his build surprisingly well.

"Mmhm." She gave him a genuine smile. "It's the eyes - you're very expressive."

"Well, I dunno about that..." He looked down sheepishly, fumbling with his towel. The red-haired woman watched from where she lounged just within earshot, smiling slyly at the exchange. Finally, Gob continued. "Still, even if you're just saying it to be nice, I like t' hear it. Most folks just spit in my face."

Maria frowned. "I hope you don't mean that literally."

"Well, I-"

"What the hell're ye doin', y'idiot?" an older man with shaggy white hair and a beard emerged from the room behind the bar, yanking Gob from where he had been leaning on the bar as he was speaking to Maria. The Ghoul let out a pained grunt, but made no effort to fight back. "I don't pay ye to chat - go make yourself useful!"

Maria looked to the red-haired woman who looked at the ground with a frown to avoid watching what was happening. It seemed as though this wasn't particularly surprising to her- or to any other patrons for that matter. Maria stood from her seat and pushed herself away from the bar, moving to walk around it, earning her a look of either shock or terror from the red-haired woman.

"Come here!" the white-haired man barked, raising his arm to backhand Gob as he knelt helplessly at his feet. "Ye useless waste of skin-"

"Hey!" Maria called out. When she was ignored, the man raised his hand again to strike Gob a second time. Without thinking, she rushed forward and grabbed his arm. "Stop that!"

"Fuck off!" the white-haired man shoved her to the ground, turning his attention to her. "What gives ye the right to interfere with my management, aye?"

"Management?!" Maria squeaked, realizing this must be the infamous 'Moriarty' Lucas had warned her about. "You're beating the poor man! What the hell is your problem?"

"Man? Hardly." Moriarty scoffed. He looked like he was about to approach her when Gob interjected.

"Wait, wait!" He rasped, putting himself between them with his hands up in surrender, hunching to make himself appear as small and meek as possible, shaking in fear and avoiding looking in Moriarty's eyes at all costs. "I-I'm sorry - I started talking to her and I just got carried away, that's all."

"Ye think I give a shit about your excuses?" Moriarty let out a wry laugh. "Just get back t'work, you lazy sack o' skin."

"Yes, sir...." Gob gave Maria an apologetic nod and scurried back to his place behind the bar, frantically cleaning glasses and focusing on looking as busy as possible.

"Now. Before I kick your ass out of my bar, what the hell d'ya want?" Moriarty folded his arms, glaring at Maria. "Ye don't have a drink in yer hand, after all."

"I'm looking for my father," Maria sighed and shook her head, pulling herself back to her feet and dusting herself off. "From Vault 101 - like me."

"Ohh, I see - the little baby brat from the vault's all grown up." To Maria's surprise, Moriarty's expression seemed to light up with genuine recognition. "And ye figure I'll be tellin' where yer dear ol' dad ran off to, aye?"

"That was the plan, yeah..."

"Ha! Well, ye can forget it," Moriarty scoffed, shoving past her as he flicked a cigarette between his lips. "Ye can get yer drinks and a bed here if ye've got the caps. That's the extent o' my generosity for brats that stick their nose in my business."

"But-" Maria tried to speak further, but the man was already out the door, slamming it behind him in defiant finality.

"Shit..."

"Tough break, kid." A sultry voice broke the awkward moment of silence. The red-haired woman from earlier had her arms folded as she spoke. "But that's Colin for ya. He can be a real bastard. Name's Nova, by the way."

"Pleasure to meet you, Nova." Maria sighed, slumping into a seat at the bar, watching Gob taking inventory with a clipboard, his hand still trembling. "Why is he so horrible to him?"

"Well, he treats us all like shit." Nova spoke plainly, taking a seat beside her and lighting up another cigarette. She offered one to Maria, but it was turned down. "But he treats poor Gob the worst out of all of us. Just because he's different, maybe?"

"It's not right." Maria found herself gritting her teeth at the thought.

"You don't know the half of it." Nova chuckled. "You know that asshole bought him off some slavers way back? Says he can earn his freedom if he works off his debt."

"When will that be?"

"Never." Nova dabbed her cigarette on the edge of the ashtray. "He charges him rent and board, too - so he'll never pay it off."

"What?!" Maria squeaked. "But that's just slavery!"

"And that's why he's been here for 15 years."

"Unbelievable..." Maria grumbled and shook her head. "And now he won't even tell me where my father is. What a dick."

"Hm..." Nova took another puff of her cigarette and thought to herself for a moment. "Hey, Gob."

"Hm?" He turned and walked over to the bar, eyes darting past them to the door to make sure Moriarty wasn't coming back. "What is it?"

"You think Colin's files have any info on that handsome man from the vault from earlier?"

"Are you kidding? He has dirt on everybody on that stupid terminal." He leaned in conspiratorially to speak with Nova. "Think you can give her the password? Help her out?"

"I don't know, Gob..." Nova winced with a shake of her head. "If Colin finds out, I'll be out on my ass so fast my head'll spin."

'"C'mon, Nova..." Gob pleaded. "I'll do all your errands for a week."

"You really wanna help her that bad?"

"I feel kinda bad - she almost got beat because of me." He frowned, shuffling his feet sheepishly. "No one's ever stuck up for me like that before."

"Gob..." Maria was touched. "Look, neither of you need to put yourselves at risk for my sake, alright? I'll ask around town - there must be someone else who knows something."

"Doubtful. Colin keep tabs on everyone here." Nova extinguished her cigarette and sighed. "No one'll wanna tell you anything if it'll just piss him off."

Nova clicked her tongue and thought to herself for a moment. Gob looked at her with pleading eyes, and she grinned before coming to some sort of silent conclusion.

"Alright, kid." She chuckled. "I'll tell you the password. But if anyone asks, you didn't hear it from me, okay? And Gob; you're running my errands for a month, got it?"

Gob and Maria sighed in relief. He went back to his task and Nova leaned in to whisper the password in her ear.

"Thanks, Nova!" Maria was about to slide away from the bar, but Nova gently pulled her close again to whisper into her ear again.

"Thanks for sticking your neck out for Gob. You've made a lifelong friend in him, I hope you know that."

Maria smiled and gave her a quick nod in thanks as she rushed to the backroom behind the bar, hoping she could find what she needed before Moriarty came back from his apparent smoke break.

===============================

===============================

As the hour grew late, the air cooled and the moon rose over the scraps of Megaton. Few stars could be seen through the smog, but Maria still found herself enchanted by the vastness of the open sky; and her eyes were glued to the waning moon - something she'd only ever heard about in songs and books.

Stretched out on an old, discarded couch by the community bunkers, she pulled Butch's jacket further over her shoulders and let out a heady sigh. Since Moriarty had conveniently decided to double the price of the rooms, Maria had no choice but to sleep elsewhere for the night.

So my dad's gone off to find this GNR radio station... Maria pulled out Jonas' glasses and sniffled idly, wiping off a leftover smear of blood from the frame with her sleeve. I guess I need to get to D.C. somehow.

Holding the glasses to her chest, she felt her eyes begin to well with tears.

I hope this ache goes away eventually... She wiped her eyes on her arm. I'll need to get my hands on some supplies before I even think about traveling that far. Guess I'll need to get my hands on some caps somehow.

Tucking the glasses away, she stretched out on the couch and felt sleep begin to take her.

I'll ask around in the morning. I'm sure there's something I can do around here to round up a pocket-full of caps...

===============================

===============================

"Well, I'll be damned!" Walter whistled, nodding in approval at the repaired pipes that had been giving him hell for the past few weeks. The man had one damn job in this gods-forsaken town, and it was made much harder when the water pipes had burst in three areas all at once. "You managed to patch 'em up in record time. Nice work, kid!"

"No worries, Walter; happy to help." Maria wiped the grime from her hands on the pants of her jumpsuit. She silently thanked Stanley for teaching her what he knew about maintaining the Vault's water system. "Clean water's hard to come by - it's a necessity of life, after all."

"Right you are, girl. Here you go." The mechanic handed her a handful of caps. "I know it's not a lot, but it should at least be enough to get yourself something nice."

"Thanks, Walter. I guess I should go check out this Craterside Supply I've heard so much about."

"Yeah, Moira'll be happy to help you out. She's a nice girl." Walter chuckled. "Might also be one of the strangest girls you'll ever meet, too."

"Take care." Maria gave Walter a polite pat on the shoulder before walking by him to Craterside Supply just down the walkway.

===============================

"Welcome to Craterside Supply!"

Right away, Maria was greeted by a woman in coveralls and blood orange hair. She had a spark of mischievous intelligence in her expression as she tinkered at her workbench with some sort of contraption that Maria couldn't identify.

"Hello - I'm about to take off on a bit of a long journey, and I just need something a little heftier than a switchblade." Maria counted the caps on the surface of the counter. "And maybe some food and supplies if I can afford it."

"You wouldn't happen to be heading north, would you?" The shopkeeper stopped tinkering, regarding Maria with a hopeful smile. "I could really use a research assistant!"

"A research assistant? For what?"

"Well, I'm writing a book, you see. I'm calling it 'The Wasteland Survival Guide' written by Moira Brown." She practically bounced with excitement at the thought. "It's going to save so many lives once it's written and out there in the hands of those poor souls out wandering the wastes."

"Why not just do this research yourself?"

"What? I'd get myself killed out there!" Moira scoffed. Maria appreciated her willingness to speak so candidly. "I need someone who can handle themselves out there."

"Does it pay well?" Maria raised an eyebrow. "I could really use the caps."

"You won't just get caps." Moira beamed. "You'll get supplies, new gadgets, and best of all - the very best survival skills that you can only get by being put in dangerous and traumatic situations!"

Maria stared at Moira in silence for about ten seconds, noting the shopkeeper's complete lack of concern from what she'd just said.

"That..." Maria trailed off. "...sounds awful."

"Pfft - nooo!" Moira shook her head with a flick of her wrist. "I think you'll find the rewards far outweigh the near-death experiences. So whaddaya say?!"

Well, this could be my opportunity to get my hands on the supplies I need... Maria sighed. "What's first?"

"You'll do it?!" Moira bounced and clapped her hands excitedly. "What do you know about radiation sickness, scavenging and... landmines?"

Maria gulped, somewhat dreading what she may be agreeing to.

====

TLDR

====

• Maria arrives at Megaton and makes a good impression on Lucas Simms; she has some knowledge on explosives, but not enough to disarm the bomb at this time.

• Maria meets Gob and Nova at Moriarty's Saloon. Having never seen a ghoul before, Maria is spooked by Gob's appearance at first, but when they start talking and she realizes that he's friendly, she warms up to him quickly and even admits to finding him oddly charming.

• Moriarty catches Gob conversing with Maria and starts to beat him - Maria jumps in to stop him and gets knocked to the ground. Before Moriarty turns on her Gob manages to convince him to stop. Moriarty refuses to tell Maria anything about her father's whereabouts and leaves the saloon to have a smoke.

• Nova is hesitant to help Maria at first, but between Maria's willingness to be so kind to Gob, and with Gob practically begging her to to help, she finally agrees to give Maria the password to Moriarty's personal terminal.

• Maria finds out her father has gone to D.C. and was headed to the GNR Radio Station.

• Moriarty doubled the price of the rooms at the saloon for the night, forcing Maria to use the old, discarded couch outside the common quarters. She laments about her losses and makes a plan to scrounge some bottlecaps together to try and get her hands on some more supplies before she makes the long journey.

• She helps Walter fix up the busted water pipes around Megaton; thankfully, she has some decent knowledge on repairs since Stanely taught her a few things about the Vault's water system maintenance way back. He hands her some caps and points her in the direction of Craterside Supply.

• Maria meets Moira at her shop and learns that she's in the midst of writing a 'Wasteland Survival Guide.' Moira asks Maria for help with some research in exchange for caps, supplies, gadgets, etc. Maria agrees.

Coming Up: Chapter 2 - Into the Wasteland

[pyrettawychwiggin]

A little moment between Julian and Anya in the latest episode of 'In Medias Res!'

I think Anya may be getting a little bold, don't you? 🫢

Be sure to play Episode 8 'Chasing Shadows' on Dorian.live! Episode 9 is almost ready to be released! ♡

(Anya's sprite design was created by the one-and-only MimishaDraw ♡)

[pyrettawychwiggin]

'Songbird' (Snow White-Inspired Outfit)

I still have more posts coming about my gothic collection, but I wanted to put up another new design that I've been sitting on for a bit! This is obviously heavily inspired by the Disney Princess 'Snow White!'

If you end up wearing this in real life, I'd love to see your own personal spin on it! Tag me! ❤️

[pyrettawychwiggin]

Songstress of Skyrim - Chapter 2: Among Bards & Madmen

Disclaimer: The following story is centered around my own character, Mhari Freysri, who is the only character in this piece that I own. All other characters and elements of the world within the Elder Scrolls series is the intellectual property of Bethesda. This story contains, not just massive spoilers, but is in and of itself one very long spoiler, as it is based off of my playthrough of Skyrim: Special Edition. You have been advised. Please enjoy this newest installment of my cringy fanfiction.

Mhari stepped into the light of the main seating area as the inn's patrons chattered and drank among themselves. Very few took notice aside from the whistling Nord and the table of guards. I wonder if my voice will carry over the din... She shifted a nervous glance back to Corpulus and Lisette; the innkeeper gave her a nod of reassurance, and Lisette mouthed the words 'go on.'

Mhari closed her eyes for moment, shifting the drum in her arms so that it was nestled comfortably on the shelf of her hip; running her hands across the hide, she breathed in, focusing on the calm within, feeling her pulse slow through her fingertips. She started to play the drum, alternating strikes between the outer edge of her thumb and the heel of her palm; a slow, but steady beat sounding throughout the inn.

Slowly, conversations ceased, and heads began to turn as she began to sing the song of a cursed female troll who had fallen in love with a human man; the tale was not in her mother tongue, but she had taken great care in her pronunciation. At brief moments where she remembered the eyes on her, her voice would waver, but she would find her center again by allowing the spirit of the story overtake her thoughts. She imagined the sorrow and loneliness of the troll as the human rejected her love, dooming her to suffer her affliction in solitude for the rest of her days. Her heart ached dully in her chest as she sang the final note, allowing the last beats of the drum to fade to a slowing heartbeat, then to silence at last.

After a moment's silence, Mhari was met with modest applause and a couple scattered cheers; she gave a small bow before returning to her seat at the bar and placing the drum on the counter before her legs practically gave way with residual adrenaline. Though her emotions were that of pride and excitement, the tension of her first performance took precedence. Corpulus gave Mhari a hearty slap on the back as Lisette clapped proudly.

"You were great out there!" Lisette gushed, eyes beaming. "What else do you play?"

"A little bit of everything," Mhari replied, drinking the last of the alto wine in one long gulp. "Drums, lute, flute. My voice is my longest-standing instrument."

"Self-taught?" Lisette asked, eyebrows raised.

"Somewhat," Mhari replied dipping her head from side-to-side in uncertainty. "My father, my sisters, and I - we used to sing folk songs when we would work or travel. Everything I learned, I learned from them. Father says I have the voice of my mother, but it always takes me a little more time to learn an instrument. My sisters were always more talented on the strings."

"Well, friend," Corpulus began, holding his chin between his fingers as he thought. "Should you ever need a room for the night, you can perform here any time! If my patrons are happy enough to tip more handsomely, I'll give you a small cut of the profits!"

"You really don't mind?" Mhari asked excitedly; the prospect of a regular audience to practice for was a valuable gift for an aspiring bard, and she couldn't ask for a better set-up. "I could use the gold, but I don't want to put you out."

"Nonsense," Corpulus replied, patting Mhari jokingly on the head. "You'd be doing me a favour! What with the war going on these days, drinks and song are some of the only things taking people's minds off of things."

"And a word of advice," Lisette began, putting an arm around Mhari, rubbing her thumb and index finger together with a smirk. "Never turn down an opportunity to have your voice heard. The more well-known you become, the more coin you'll make."

"Couldn't have said it better myself!" a new voice interrupted. A Nord man with braided silver hair and red war-paint over his eyes, clad in a forest green belted tunic and brown hide breeches placed his hands on Lisette's shoulders from behind; her shoulders tensed and a bright red flush spread across her cheeks.

"Little bird, this is Jorn; another bard from the college," Lisette introduced the man with an eye-roll as she attempted to hide her giddy anxiety. "Jorn, this is..." Lisette trailed off, only just realizing she had not yet been told her new friend's name.

"Mhari," Mhari chuckled in amusement. "Mhari Freysri."

"There you have it, then," Corpulus announced, plopping three more bottles of wine onto the counter. "Drink up, bards. Tonight, we celebrate Mhari Freysri's first performance!"

The three bards laughed gaily and each took a bottle in their hands, clicking the glass together before taking a long drink of the pungent liquid; Mhari could feel her worries fading even farther into her subconscious.

Corpulus took a moment to show Mhari where her room would be before he left intermittently to tend to his patrons.

Lisette, Jorn and Mhari drank together at the table on the second level of the inn right beside Mhari's room, overlooking the shenanigans of the main level from above as the inn became even busier with the later hours. As they drank and supped on meat and cheese, Mhari could see how close Jorn and Lisette were, assuming they were a couple. Not thinking, Mhari blurted out what was on her mind. "You two are so sweet together."

Lisette nearly choked on her wine as Jorn chortled with his arm around her, patting her on the shoulder as she found her breath again, her cheeks growing even redder than they had been before.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Mhari sputtered.

"Lisette is a fine lass, but when I join the Legion," Jorn started, mischievously tipping Lisette's chin up to look at him, leaning forward until they were nearly nose-to-nose. Mhari blushed just watching the bards. Lisette gulped, catching her breath in her throat in anticipation. "Well, I could never expect her to wait for my return."

"That is if I don't join the Legion first!" Lisette barked in both amusement and irritation, playfully jamming a sweet roll into his mouth. "Besides, who'd make sure you didn't get your arse handed to you on the battlefield if not me?"

Mhari laughed at the interaction between the two, taking one last long gulp of wine before placing a few spare coins on the table for Corpulus, and rising from her seat. "Well, I think I should turn in for the night. I'm beat," she yawned.

"Sleep well, little bird! I look forward to seeing you at the college," Lisette sang merrily, her words slurring ever so slightly. Jorn sat by her with his arm draped sleepily around her shoulder, waving goofily at Mhari with the other. Mhari giggled and stood up from her seat, swaying slightly as she struggled to find her balance. I may have overdone it with the wine tonight. I'm glad we chose to sit close to my room; I don't know if I'd make it up a full flight of stairs.

Mhari entered her room and gently closed the door behind her. The room was fairly sizeable, with a comfortable bed big enough for two, a large wooden dresser, a bookshelf, a small lounging area, and a writing desk by the glow of a warm light. Small windows were placed in each corner of the room where no light could be seen, hinting at lateness of the hour. Mhari stretched lazily, eyeing the thick green blanket of the bed. I know I wanted to write home before bed tonight, but I should wait until morning. My head is... spinning.

Mhari hadn't even changed her clothing before she fell into the bed, wriggling under the blanket. She was greeted by a dreamless sleep; one that she so desperately needed after her journey across the water. She could almost feel the rocking of waves as she drifted into her drunken slumber.

The sound of a chair skidding across the wooden floor of the tables beyond Mhari's door brought her back to consciousness. As she attempted to open her eyes, she found them seemingly stuck shut. She quickly remembered that she had neither changed nor removed her coal-based eye paint before sleeping. She silently reprimanded herself as she rubbed her eyes with her palms, managing to finally open them slightly. I'll need to wash up before I can open them further. What the hell was I thinking? As Mhari sat up in her bed, she hissed in pain as a dull ache reverberated throughout her head. "My head..." she groaned, placing her fingers on her temples. "I wonder if a quick healing spell will do the trick..." She looked into her palms and summoned her small reserve of magical strength, a faint golden glow emerging from her fingertips. She placed them on her temples, feeling the magic surge through her head; she brushed her hands over her head through her hair, spreading the magic across her scalp. Her skin tingled beneath her auburn locks. She knew the spell would take several minutes to take effect; she just hoped the casting was powerful enough. The spell may have been simple, but she herself was a beginner spell-caster at best.

Mhari lurched herself up to her feet and shuffled to the washbasin by the dresser, splashing water onto her face and using a linen cloth to wipe away the makeup from the previous night. She found that she already felt better with a fresh face; her pounding head had faded to a dull ache, to her relief. She dressed herself in her usual apron dress before making her way to the writing desk, drinking deep from a much-needed jug of water. She pulled out a piece of parchment from her bag and dipped her quill in the nearby inkwell.

Dearest Father, Idun & Nanna,

I hope this letter finds you well. I've arrived safely in Solitude at long last. It's bigger than I could have possibly imagined. The town square is only slightly smaller than our entire farm! It's as though I've stepped into an entirely new world; even in the midst of what should be a warmer season, the air is bitterly cold. I wonder if I will adapt to this... perhaps I should just bundle up.

I had my first performance last night at The Winking Skeever; the inn in Solitude! I was so nervous I could barely stand it, but I think I did well. I sang 'Herr Mennelig.' I thought it would be fitting, seeing as it's the first song I can remember learning. I think my drumming could use some work, but the innkeeper was happy with my song. I even received praise from two bards from the college! The next time I visit, I could use some pointers from you, Idun and Nanna; I don't think my lute-playing will impress, yet.

I'm hoping to save up enough gold to buy a horse; everything is much more expensive here. 1000 gold for a horse! Can you believe that? And that's not including the equipment.

Tensions are high in Skyrim... we'd all heard that there was a political struggle here from back home, but it seems to be on the brink of an all-out war. Don't worry, though; I'll come home if I feel that things are getting too dangerous. I don't need to get myself involved with that. I'm just here to learn.

Anyway, I suppose I should get to it. Today is the day I apply at the Bard's College! Wish me luck.

I love you all.

Signed,

Little Mhari

Mhari took a deep breath and let out a sigh of relief, her hangover having passed. She folded her letter neatly, sealing it with a piece of beeswax from her writing kit. She tucked her belongings into her pack and rose to her feet. She stretched her arms up to the ceiling with a strained groan. Okay. First order of business; breakfast.

Mhari made her way down the stairs and found Corpulus lounging at a table in the now-empty inn. "Good morning, Corpulus," she greeted. Corpulus held up his mug of milk with a smile.

"Good morning, miss Mhari!" he chortled. "I hope you got some decent sleep; yesterday was a big night for you!"

"I did, thank you; though I don't envy the hangover Lisette and Jorn ought to have. They drank as much as me last night, if not more," she joked. She pulled out her letter. "Does a courier run through here from time-to-time? I need to send off a letter to my family."

"Give it here," Corpulus stated, holding out his hand. "The courier always makes a stop here at the inn. I'll hand it off to him."

"Thank you, Corpulus," Mhari took a seat in the chair across from him. On the small table was a bowl of fruit. Mhari placed some coins on the table and grabbed a red apple from the pile. "I'm off to the Bard's College after breakfast; where in the city can I find it? Solitude is so much bigger than any place I've ever been to."

"Ah, yes," Corpulus chuckled, sliding the coins into his pouch at his hip. "You're from High Rock, aren't you? Well, you'll head left when you leave the inn. Keep going past the marketplace and just follow the path past the Hall of the Dead. It'll be the big building on your left. You can't miss it."

"Sounds easy enough," Mhari sighed with relief, finishing her apple before standing upward once more. "Thank you again, my friend. I'll likely be back this evening. You're sure you don't mind that I just play for my room?"

"I'm a man of my word," Corpulus put a hand over his chest, smiling. "Like I said; you'll be doing me a favour as well. Say hello to Viarmo for me."

"Viarmo?" Mhari cocked her head to the side in confusion.

"He's the head of the Bard's College," Corpulus answered plainly. "He'll be the man you want to speak to when you get there."

Mhari pushed open the doors and stepped out into the fresh Solitude air. She was pleasantly surprised to find that the skies were clear, and the weather was much warmer than it had been the day before. I won't always be so fortunate with the weather. I should stop into a shop and pick up something warmer just to be safe... She noticed two shop signs across from the inn; one sign bore a golden scale with coins on either side, the other bore two spools of thread and a needle. She walked closer to the shop to read the lettering. "Hmm...Bits Pieces, and Radiant Raiment." Mhari muttered under her breath. "Looks awfully fancy..." she pulled out her coin-purse with a frown. Considering how expensive everything is, and how much I still need to buy, I don't think I'll be buying a horse any time soon.

"Ah, how did you enjoy your stay at the Winking Skeever?" a man's voice asked. Mhari hadn't noticed him as she was pouting at her coin-purse. She lifted her eyes to see a pale Imperial man with tousled jet black hair and a thick black beard. He wore a brown leather tunic with a well-made light green linen shirt beneath. A small tuft of black hair peeked out from the sliver at his chest. "Not only is it the best inn in Solitude; it's the only inn in Solitude."

"I take it you work here?" Mhari asked, tucking her purse away.

"Work here?" the man guffawed incredulously before folding his arms and puffing out his chest with pride. "I own it!"

"I thought Corpulus owned it," Mhari stated, raising an eyebrow suspiciously, not particularly impressed with the man's candor.

"Well, okay. My father owns the Winking Skeever, but it's the family business, so it'll be mine when he...y'know- kicks off," he explained sheepishly. "Nevermind that; I noticed you looking a bit forlorn. I hope you're not troubled by your stay?"

"Oh, no sir," Mhari replied quickly, not wanting to give the man the wrong impression.

"Sorex; Sorex Vinius," the man corrected. Mhari shook the man's hand politely. She noticed that his hands seemed awfully soft for a working man; she wondered if he had actually worked a day in his life when his next question seemed to answer her own. "You wouldn't happen to have a moment to do me a favour, would you?"

"That depends on the favour, but I'm listening," Mhari replied carefully.

"I have a delivery to make to the Jarl's steward, Falk Firebeard. He ordered two bottles of Stros M'Kai Rum - top tier stuff," he explained, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "It'd save me a lot of trouble if you would take it to the Blue Palace and deliver it for me. I'm sure he'd give you some coin for the effort."

"And I suppose you won't?" Mhari inquired, her eyebrow raised.

"Oh, the coin I have is for the inn, you understand," Sorex sputtered with a shrug.

"Well, if nothing else, I'll do it for you and Corpulus," Mhari sighed. "It's the least I can do for allowing me to perform at the inn.'

"Good! Good!" Sorex chuckled contently. "I'll see you around, then."

With that, the man handed Mhari the bottle of wine before strolling off to the marketplace, chatting up a the pretty Imperial woman with honey-brown hair she'd seen during the execution.

Mhari shrugged and tucked the wine safely into her pack and walked into Radiant Raiment without another word; dimly-lit and meticulously organized from floor to ceiling.

"Why, hello! Here to buy?" a haughty voice greeted from near the counter beyond the entrance. Mhari nodded politely in response. At the counter were two Altmer women - high elves; they were both at least two hands taller than Mhari, with long, slender, pointed ears, and jagged jawlines with cheekbones that could probably slice bread. The Altmer behind the counter had golden hair that fell to her shoulders, and the other had two perfectly-symmetrical pigtails pulled to the back of her head. Their eyes were gold and filled to the brim with judgement from the moment Mhari walked into view. They wore some of the cleanest, and best-tailored fine clothing Mhari had seen thus far. The Altmer with pigtails sized Mhari up for a moment with an eyebrow raised in disdain. "If you have to ask the price, you might be in the wrong store."

"Do you always insult people when you meet them?" Mhari retorted, folding her arms in irritation at the elf's greeting.

"It's not an insult," the elf replied with a bored sigh. "Just an observation."

Mhari frowned; the woman was being incredibly rude, but Mhari did not sense the vitriol she had expected in her response. The Altmer spoke as if she were simply stating the obvious.

"If I were walking around with a wound, I would want you to tell me to see a doctor," the elf continued. "Your outfit is something of an open wound... where attire is concerned."

"What?" Mhari clicked her tongue and looked down to her clothing. "I made this myself."

"Yes, we can tell," a too-sweet-to-be-sincere reply came from the other woman at the counter. The elf with pigtails shot her a look, causing her to roll her eyes and return to sewing the dress she had been working on. "You'll have to excuse me; my sister Taarie is the one who gets on with people. It's her one virtue, really."

"You'll have to forgive my sister, Endarie," Taarie bit back with an overdone smile that could out-sweeten sugarcane. "Sometimes I wonder if she would do better to sew her own mouth shut rather than the fine fabrics that I bring her."

"Well, I could use your advice," Mhari changed the subject slightly, feeling uncomfortable as their air in the shop seemed to turn to ice. "What would one wear to the court? I need to make a delivery there, but even I know this won't cut it."

"You're going to the Blue Palace?" Taarie sounded impressed, thinking for a moment before continuing. She and her sister exchanged a momentary glance. "That does present an opportunity."

"Oh?" Mhari was unsure of what the elf could possibly need from her.

"If you're willing to wear one of Radiant Raiment's outfits and speak with the Jarl, I would not only pay you," Taarie began; Mhari heard the word 'pay' and had already decided she would accept the request. "I will also let you keep the outfit."

That sounds easy enough. Mhari thought to herself. "I'll do it."

"Good. Here's the outfit," Taarie handed Mhari a forest green dress with gold and red accents, with a neat brown fur mantle. "Try to get Jarl Elisif's opinion on it."

"And do tell her it's from Radiant Raiment," Endarie muttered from the counter. "Oh, and try not to embarrass yourself, will you? The last thing we need is you making a mess of our reputation."

Mhari was shooed out of the shop before she could offer up a retort. Scowling, she neatly folded the fine dress and tucked it away in her bag for later. Would it have killed them to say please or thank you...?

"Oh well," Mhari let out a resigned sigh. "At the very least, I'll have some nicer clothing if I need them, and I should hopefully get some coin for the wine delivery. I'm sure that between my performing at the inn and picking up little favours around the city, I'll have enough gold to buy a horse in no time."

Mhari pushed open the doors to the shop next-door and was greeted with a refreshingly-friendly Redguard woman in a casual red dress bearing white linen accents, with greying hair, who sat comfortably in a chair by the counter.

"Welcome to Bits Pieces. Feel free to look around."

Mhari greeted the woman politely, who introduced herself as Sayma; she was relieved to strike a good deal for a small tent and cooking pot, and after mentioning her desire to make some warmer clothing, the pelts of three unusually-large wolves. This is thicker fur than any of the wolves I've seen from back home; this should provide some decent coverage from the wind, at least.

"Thank you, Sayma; it was a pleasure meeting you," Mhari smiled at the Redguard woman.

"A pleasure, miss Mhari," Sayma took her seat once more beside the counter. "Be sure to speak with my husband Beirand at his forge up by the Fletcher's Shop. He should have a few more essentials if you're going to be traveling outside of Solitude."

"I'll be sure to do that," Mhari replied, waving politely to the woman as she left the shop.

Alright, enough stalling. Mhari took a deep breath as she looked across the marketplace. I ought to go straight to the Bard's College before it gets any later in the day.

Mhari passed by the marketplace, seeing three small stalls and an old well in the centre. Three children bolted by, laughing and shouting as they dodged around Mhari.

"Sorry, lady!"

"Yeah, sorry!"

Mhari laughed and shook her head as she continued along the cobblestone path. Now that she was getting to see more of it, Solitude was truly a wonder.

The pale grey walls of the city extended to incredible heights, bordering the entire city, and flags of Haafingar hung proudly on nearly every wall. There were small smatterings of trees and various flowers ranging from the golden hues Dragon's Tongue to the soft violets of Lavender and Nightshade all throughout the pathways of the city. Every home she passed by was sizeable and incredibly well-kept. Guards were wandering throughout the city, sporting their chainmail and the bold red robes of the hold. Even the graveyard down the small slope from the Hall of the Dead was as beautiful and well-maintained as every building within the city's walls.

At last, Mhari spotted the Bard's College across from the Hall of the Dead, just as Corpulus has said. It was even larger than the inn, with a marble courtyard leading to what appeared to be a small gathering area with tiered steps surrounding it; perfect for theatrical performances and merry meetings.

As Mhari pushed open the doors to the college, she was amazed at the interior of the building. Throughout the building were beautiful pillars of stone and some of the cleanest marble floors Mhari had ever seen. If the Bard's College looks this immaculate, I could only imagine what the Blue Palace is like. Mhari thought to herself, staring awestruck at the building around her. She almost didn't notice the tall Altmer man approaching her from nearby.

"Welcome to the Bard's College; I am Viarmo, the headmaster here." Viarmo was just as tall as Taarie and Endarie, and while he carried himself with pride, he did not speak to Mhari with the same snobbish derision. "How may I help you?"

Mhari felt almost as nervous as she had before her first performance. She did her best to put her anxiety out of her mind as she stood as tall and proud as she was able. "My name is Mhari Freysri - of High Rock, sir. I'm here to apply for the college."

"Always a pleasure to meet a prospective bard," Viarmo stated with a graceful bow and a smile. "You should be aware that many apply, but we accept very few people. When possible, we ask applicants to perform tasks the college needs completed."

"I'd be happy to take on any task you have," Mhari replied, surprised at her own confidence.

"Well, I do have a task befitting an aspiring bard," Viarmo began. He motioned to a nearby chair at a seating area by the entrance. Mhari followed him as he took a seat across from her, picking up a dinner roll, leaning back into the chair as he began to speak. "The Jarl has forbidden the Burning of King Olaf; it's a festival put on by the college every year. Put plainly, we need to change her mind."

"How can we manage that?" Mhari asked, her expression growing serious as she considered the information being presented to her.

"I want her to read King Olaf's verse; a part of the Poetic Edda - the living history of Skyrim. Unfortunately, the verse was lost long ago,' Viarmo explained, motioning for Mhari to help herself to a dinner roll. Mhari munched away as Viarmo continued his explanation. "According to Giraud, one of our deans, the portion of the Edda dealing with King Olaf might still exist in Dead Man's Respite."

"That is quite a task." Mhari replied with an impressed whistle. "But I myself am very curious about Skyrim's history; I should like to have a look at this portion of the Poetic Edda myself. Would you be able to tell me more about it?"

"I think Giraud would give you the best explanation of both the Edda and the history of the verse. He's right over there by the common area," Viarmo pointed to the other side of the hall where an older Imperial man in fine red quilted clothing read a comically large with a goblet of wine in his other hand.

"Why did the Jarl forbid the festival?" Mhari asked, finishing off her dinner roll and leaning forward to give the headmaster her full attention.

"As you may or may not be aware, Elisif's husband, the High King Torygg was recently killed," Viarmo began, his expression darkening as he furrowed his brow at the memory. "Jarl Elisif mourns her husband deeply, and feels that a festival that burns a king in effigy is... distasteful."

Mhari nodded grimly in response, but said nothing.

"I tried to convince her that the festival is many centuries old, and celebrates Solitude, but I need proof," he sighed. "I believe King Olaf's Verse will provide that proof."

"Understood," Mhari said finally. She sat up straight and bowed her head slightly to Viarmo. "Thank you, Headmaster."

"Giraud!" Viarmo called over his shoulder. Giraud looked up from his book, not having expected his name to be called so suddenly. "Would you come fill in our newest applicant on the details of her task?"

"With pleasure," Giraud cleared his throat and slid the book he had been reading carefully back onto it's shelf in chronological order before he made his way over to the seating area, taking up the last chair in the corner. "So you're the one he's sending to find the verse. That's good; we shouldn't just leave it lying around now that we know where it is."

"What can you tell me about the verse?" Mhari leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, eagerly awaiting his response.

"The verse was Svaknir's contribution to the Poetic Edda, the living history of Skyrim," Giraud explained with pride, simply happy to have a prospective bard who had even a modicum of interest in the history. "Each bard adds to the Edda in his or her time."

"So King Olaf's Verse is a lost part of the Edda," Mhari nodded in understanding, feeling growing excitement to seek out such an important piece of this fascinating land's history.

"And an ancient one at that. The verse criticized the reigning King Olaf. He was so incensed the bard was put to death and all the copies burned. At least, that's what we thought until I translated some ancient texts a year or so ago," Giraud explained. Viarmo's attention was turned to a squabble between bards in the other room as he excused himself quietly. "We now believe King Olaf buried the truth with the bard. If I'm right, Svaknir and King Olaf's Verse lie in Dead Man's Respite, along with the burial chamber of King Olaf himself."

"Fascinating," Mhari whispered in awe.

"Fascinating, yes; but I should warn you," Giraud grew serious. "You might find more than just King Olaf's Verse in that tomb. You need to be careful."

"Thank you, Dean Giraud," Mhari stood with him and shook his hand as she spoke. She bid him farewell and walked back out to the early evening Solitude air.

By the time Mhari had received her instructions, she was about ready to collapse. I sounded so confident when I accepted this quest, but I don't even know how I'm going to get to Dead Man's Respite, much less traverse an entire tomb on my own. Mhari sighed, jingling her coin purse that now somehow felt even more empty than before. I don't even have enough provisions to make the trip there.

As she was walking with her head hung in deep thought, she suddenly bumped into someone. "Oh! I'm sorry!" she said instinctively. She looked down to see that she had knocked over a disheveled-looking old man with desperate, mad eyes. She held out her hand to help him scramble back to his feet. "Are you alright, sir?"

"Please, my lady! Hear my plea!" the man's cries took Mhari by surprise, causing her to step back a little once she had helped the man up. "My master; he is lost between worlds and I cannot bring him back!"

Lost between worlds...? Mhari's confusion grew as the man continued.

"My master has abandoned me! Abandoned his people! And nothing I say can change his mind. Now he refuses to even see me. He says I 'interrupt his vacation'." The man's eyes saddened as he recounted his tale; Mhari stood by just as confused as before. "It's been so many years; won't you please help?"

"How can I even find your master, mister, uhh..." Mhari awaited the man to introduce himself. "Dervenin, my lady!" he chirped abruptly. "Last I saw him, he was visiting a friend in the Blue Palace. But no one as mundane as the Jarl. No, no such people are below him. He went into the forbidden wing of the palace to speak with an old friend. Said it had been ages since they last had tea."

"Your master is just... having tea with an old friend?" Mhari asked skeptically. "I thought you said he'd been gone for years?"

"Oh, and you'll need the hip bone!" Dervenin barked as though he had just remembered. He shoved a large human pelvic bone into Mhari's arms. Where was he even keeping this...? Mhari could see no discernable pockets on the man. "No entering Pelagius' Wing without that!"

"Um... thank you. I think," Mhari stuttered, uncertain as to what else to say; she tucked the oddly large hip bone into her pack, assuming the guards would not look kindly on a civilian carrying around something so conspicuous. "Dervenin... why don't you leave your master? Surely abandoning his people would be nothing short of unforgiveable."

"Oh, you just don't understand! Without him, I am not free; without him, I am doomed! All of his empire shall fall into chaos!" Dervenin replied, frantically, almost yelling at the top of his lungs as he spoke.

"Dervenin," Mhari sighed, her frustration beginning to get the better of her. "Who is your master, exactly?"

"He is a great man, but one rarely praised!" Dervenin replied, a genuine smile stretching across his lips; Mhari shuddered slightly, feeling as though his grin seemed to stretch unnaturally wide across his face. "He rules twin empires that span the length and breadth of our minds! All know him, but few can name him; but...he has forbidden me from saying his name, and woe to those who draw his ire. But you'll know him when you see him. He's the one who made me like this!"

"Duly noted," Mhari responded carefully with a nod. "I will see what I can do; but I can't promise anything."

"Thank you!" Dervenin didn't seem to acknowledge her warning, kissing her hands in a grateful frenzy. "Thank you, my lady!" Without another word, Dervenin scurried off to the graveyard.

What an odd man...

Mhari heaved her now-much-heavier pack back to the Winking Skeever, ready for a night of well-needed rest.

"Corpulus, my friend," she greeted as she slid up to the counter. "I was thinking of playing the drum this evening for your lovely patrons."

"Play away, songstress!" Corpulus replied with an exaggerated, flourish of his hand and a bow. Mhari giggled, shaking her head, as she made her way back to her room to change and pick up the drum she had used the night before.

"What should I play tonight?" Mhari wondered aloud. "Surely they wouldn't appreciate if I simply played the same song every single night."

As Mhari adorned herself with her usual coal-lined eyes, she settled on her song choice for the evening; a far more upbeat song, and perhaps more ambitious. "I hope they like it."

As Mhari took her place in the dining area, settling into her playing position, she swore under her breath. I feel just as nervous as I did the night before. She took a deep breath, allowing her a moment to find her center once more, momentarily blocking out the sounds and chaos of the inn. Deep breaths...

To Mhari's delight, a couple patrons that were deep enough into their cups rose from their seats to stomp and dance to her playing; Mhari had not seen her music move someone to dance aside from her family in this manner, and the thought of it made her giddy with excitement; her fear was quickly forgotten for the rest of her performance; though her crowd was not much larger than the one she had performed for the night prior. To scattered, but enthusiastic applause, Mhari skipped to the counter where Corpulus thumped his hand on the counter-top in delight.

"What do you have the hankering for, bard?" Corpulus asked with a jolly grin. "I think you've earned your choice of a meal!"

"Actually," Mhari thought for a moment. "You wouldn't happen to have vegetable soup, would you?"

"Vegetable soup?" Corpulus frowned. "You don't want something a little heartier?"

"It's one of my favourites!" Mhari mumbled shyly. "I know it's boring to most folks, but it reminds me of home."

"Homesick already, eh? Here, let me get you a drink while I get that ready for you," Corpulus offered. "Alto wine?"

"Actually, if you have any mead in stock, I'll take a bottle," Mhari leaned over the bar with a yawn.

After an hour or two passed, the inn began to grow quieter, the patrons retreating to their homes and rooms. Following suit, Mhari took care to change and remove her makeup before crawling into her bed an hour later. As she laid her head on the soft, yet somehow still coarse linen pillowcase, she mulled over her next steps.

There's still so much of this city I want to see; and I may not have much gold leftover, but I need to get my supplies and provisions figured if I'm going to complete Viarmo's task... not to mention figuring out what to do about this hip-bone... The very thought of it made Mhari even drowsier. She drifted off to the sounds of the night as they echoed from just beyond the inn window; the crickets and night-bugs singing their choruses deep into the ether.

~To Be Continued...~

Note From the Author: Thank you again for reading the latest chapter of Songstress of Skyrim! If you enjoyed this chapter, please consider following this story and dropping a comment below. I'd love to hear what my readers think; what their favourite parts were, what they'd like to see more of, etc. I hope to see you in the next chapter, dear reader.

~Voth Werid

[pyrettawychwiggin]

The Rantings of a Chairside Tooth Fairy - A Prologue, Part 2/2

Note from the author: Being a dental assistant is... a mixed bag. It differs from assistant to assistant based on where they studied (if they studied), what country/state/province they work in, what office or specialty they work in, etc.

For the sake of this series - I am a registered dental assistant in western Canada, and as of the time of this entry, I've been assisting for about four years.

These rantings are my own, and don't necessarily speak for all dental assistants out there. Our job can be incredibly unfair and rip-your-hair-out-frustrating sometimes, and I've found that sometimes, screaming into the void is a good way to cope.

That's what this series will be. Just one itty-bitty tooth fairy who needs to blow off a little steam.

Consider this a prologue to my rantings. This post will just kind of tell you a bit about myself, how I got into assisting, and the posts to come will be all the juicy stuff that other people who work in the dental office may be able to relate to on a pretty personal level.

In this series, I'll be going by the name of Fae Rhee - for no particular reason aside from it makes me giggle.

Alright, let's get into it...

This is harder than I thought...

I stared at the list of courses offered by the college I'd sent my admissions application to, and found myself a little stuck.

I've narrowed it down to about four options, but I really ought to go in there with a solid plan...

I sighed and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen. I always had an easier time making a decision when I had a visual aid to help me weigh the pros and cons. I started scribbling out the four possibilities at the top of the page.

Administrative assistant...

I briefly imagined myself behind a desk, firing off emails, juggling phone calls and fashioning spreadsheets.

Massage therapist...

I imagined myself on my feet, in spa-like settings, easing away knots my clients never even knew they had.

Veterinary assistant...

I imagined myself working with animals of all shapes and sizes, and from all walks of life from birth to end-of-life. I scribbled down the fourth and final option.

Dental assistant...

I tapped my pen to my lips and started writing out any pros and cons I could think of.

As an administrative assistant, I could be fairly certain it would be a safe option, but I couldn't help but feel that I would find it quite boring.

As a massage therapist, I imagined the setting and atmosphere of most locations would be nice, but I'd heard so many horror stories - especially from women in the industry.

Veterinary assisting would be the most interesting as far as I was concerned, but knowing how difficult it must be to be present for the euthanasation of so many animals, or seeing them in pain would surely wear on me over time.

But dental assisting...

I would spend some time up and on my feet, but some time chairside. I'd be in a field that I may find a little more interesting. My hours would be worlds better than the majority of the jobs I could work without further credentials. The benefits would likely be better than anything else I had available to me.

I guess that settles it, then.

I took a moment to stretch and ready myself for bed.

The next morning, I would be sitting in front of the admissions counselor, signing the paperwork to get started on my new career.

Three months flew by faster than I thought it would. It was mid-December, and I was on my way to the college's orientation event.

I settled into a random desk at the back of the room and made small talk with the other two students-to-be on either side of me; one who would go on to become a lasting friend, but the other would drop out of the course within the first week, leaving the remaining number of students at a solid twenty-three.

The first month or so of the course was all about the theory of dentistry; learning the different tooth numbering systems, the structure and development of the tooth, the anatomy of the human head from the neck up, the various methods of sterilization and infection control, and so on.

By the end of the brunt of the theory portion of the course, a couple more students had dropped out of the course. As March came about, there were muttering of the first few cases of Covid-19 surfacing in the area, but we still had no idea what was to come, so this was largely ignored.

That is, until we had finally started the process of honing our in-clinic skills. We had only just started to learn how to process instruments and set up for simple procedures when the lockdowns hit.

Just like that, everything was put on pause.

We found ourselves in our homes, twiddling our thumbs 'until further notice.'

By the time we'd resumed theory content online, another couple of students had dropped out. We were unable to train in-clinic, but our instructors focused on prepping us for the entrance exams.

It would be months before we had the chance to resume our clinic training, but the college was insistent on attempting to stay as close to the original graduation date as possible, throwing the lessons into a jumbled mess that few of us were able to follow. After a few more drop-outs, we were left with a class size of fourteen.

By the time we'd approached gradation, very few of our remaining class felt ready in any capacity to enter the work force, having felt rushed for the sake of the convenience of the college's scheduling of the subsequent classes.

Still, we made a go of it. A small handful of those that graduated never bothered finishing their practicum, opting to chase other options away from dental assisting; the rest of us took on our first official positions at our respective clinics.

At this point, Covid-19 restrictions were still present, leading the college to opt for an online graduation ceremony, scheduled in the middle of a Tuesday afternoon, which meant basically none of us could 'attend' as we would be busy during shifts at our practicum offices. We had to admit this lack of consideration left a bad taste in our mouths.

Fast forward to present day - over three years later - and only four of us from the original graduating class would remain in the industry; the other ten had gone on to try something else for varying reasons.

As for those reasons, well - I'll likely be expanding on a great many of them throughout this series.

To be continued...

As of today, August 26th 2024, I have worked in six different clinics, and for nine different dentists. I have seen nearly a thousand patients from all walks of life, and each time I think to myself, 'okay, now I've seen it all,' another curve ball is just around the corner.

So let's get into it, shall we?

[pyrettawychwiggin]

Songstress of Skyrim - Chapter 1: Welcome To Solitude

Disclaimer: The following story is centered around my own character, Mhari Freysri, who is the only character in this piece that I own. All other characters and elements of the world within the Elder Scrolls series is the intellectual property of Bethesda. This story contains, not just massive spoilers, but is in and of itself one very long spoiler, as it is based off of my playthrough of Skyrim: Special Edition. You have been advised. Please enjoy this newest installment of my cringy fanfiction.

Weeks...

It had been weeks at sea, but it had been worth it. Mhari stepped out from the deck of The Salty Seabird onto the Docks of Solitude at dawn, feeling the strange sensation of the unmoving earth beneath her feet, suddenly aware of her nervousness, turning her legs to cottage cheese. She could see the infamous Blue Palace to the east perched upon the stone land bridge; birds circled the great structure as it almost seemed to hold up the hazy golden clouds of morning, and Mhari could only imagine how large the city itself was, considering that the palace was easily the largest structure she had ever seen. She had been so certain of her decision to leave her home in High Rock to attend the esteemed Bard's College of Solitude, and now, staring up the dirt path to the stone walls of the massive city, she found herself overwhelmed with excitement and fear of the unknown.

Everything about this place felt like a completely different world; even the waves lapping at the shoreside reminded her of strange, feral beasts; harsh, wild, and completely untamed. She shivered as she realized just how bitter the northern winds blew, and hastily fastened a cloak over her shoulders, fitting her rabbit fur-lined work gloves over her red-knuckled hands.

She had dressed herself in a set of armor fashioned out of brown wolf fur and cow hide that she'd made for herself back home. Despite the thick furs she'd hoped would shield her from the fabled winds of Skyrim, she felt the frigidness of the air nonetheless. Everything from the sea to the very air itself is cold and biting. This will take a lot of getting used to...

The scent of the ocean faded as she made her way up the path to the gates of Solitude. As she passed a small farm, she noticed two palomino horses standing lazily in the stables, and briefly wondered if they were for sale. Placing her hand on her coin pouch, she decided it couldn't hurt to ask. As long as I have enough gold for a couple nights at the inn and my provisions, I should be able to buy a mount.

She detoured into the farm to see a young boy hard at work, but seemingly miserable about it as he pitched hay into the stables. An older, harsh looking woman in a tattered work-dress swept the stoop of the farmhouse, and a dark-haired stable hand leaned against the side of the building gnawing on a toothpick as he watched a brunette woman lovingly as she tossed a hand-full of feed into the chicken coop.

"Excuse me, sir?" Mhari spoke awkwardly.

"You got business at the stables?" he asked nonchalantly.

"I take it you're the stablemaster?" she asked, tucking her cloak further over her shoulders as a breeze whistled through the farm.

"Yep. Name's Geimund," he replied, flicking his toothpick to the other side of his mouth with his tongue. "You lookin' to work? Talk to Katla; this here's her farm. If you're lookin' to buy a horse, you're talking to the right man."

"Ah, good," Mhari replied with a smile. She reached for her purse and turned her gaze to the stables. "How much for one of those beauties?"

"1000 gold pieces," he replied. "Another 600 if you're looking for more equipment than just a riding saddle."

Mhari winced sheepishly as she mentally counted the contents of her purse. I don't even have half of that. Are all horses in Skyrim this expensive...? "Oh, I, uh...I could walk more."

"Well, walking never hurt nobody," Geimund laughed. "If you change your mind, I'll be here. You could always ask Katla for work; it won't pay much, but it's better than nothing."

Mhari walked dejected farther up the path to Solitude; she could swear the wind was getting colder by the second, feeling her forehead begin to go numb under her silver and sapphire circlet, and her ears started to ring with discomfort. She spotted a small tent in front of a lit fire where an Imperial carriage driver chopped wood nearby.

"Do you mind if I borrow some heat from your fire?" Mhari called out. The carriage driver looked over his shoulder and gave her a curt nod. "Thank you."

Mhari crouched by the flame, holding out her hands gratefully as it crackled and lapped at her fingers. She could feel her core temperature slowly rising, but she knew the fire would only go so far; the longer she waited, the colder the wind would get.

"What is your name, carriage driver?" Mhari asked as the man took a seat at the campsite just across from where she crouched.

"Thaer," he responded simply. He extended a hand with a piece of cooked beef from the pot by the fire.

"Thaer," Mhari repeated with a nod, politely refusing the offer of meat. "What can you tell me about Solitude? As you can probably tell, I'm uh- not from around here."

"Solitude's been the capital of Skyrim as long as I can remember. Most of the high kings of Skyrim were jarls of Solitude first," he rattled off some of the more common talking points for newcomers to the area. "The Bard's College is here, and the main office of the East Empire Company; and if you need it, you can get a room for a fair price at the Winking Skeever, just inside the main gate."

"Ah, that's good to know." Mhari sighed, relieved to be a little warmer. "Thank you, Thaer; save travels."

"Safe travels."

Just a little further up the pathway, Mhari could see it; the great stone gates of Solitude. A grey, stone wall towered above her, the iron gates themselves being nearly three times her height. On either side of the stone pillars that framed the gate were two banners of Haafingar Hold; a stoic white wolf upon a bold backdrop of bright red. As she approached the gates, she could feel the shelter of the stone walls doing wonders as she removed her cloak gratefully. That's a little better. The cold is still bitter, but I can tolerate it without the wind.

The moment Mhari pushed open the gates, the first thing she noticed was a large crowd gathered to what appeared to be a stage at the right of the entrance. There was a smattering of cheers, jeers, and everything in-between. To her dismay, upon the stage stood a tall, red-headed Nord in rags with his hands bound in front of a chopping block. A hooded executioner clad in black chainmail sharpened his axe at the stone nearby, whistling nonchalantly. Beside the prisoner stood a dark-haired Imperial man in a high-ranking officer's armor. He stood tall with his arms folded, his expression nearly unreadable, but behind his eyes, Mhari could see a complex mix of emotions. Before she could think too long on this, the voice of a young girl caught her ear. A child in a home-made red dress spoke to an Imperial man in black mourning robes and a silver sash.

"They can't hurt uncle Roggvir!" the child mewled. "Tell them he didn't do it!"

"Svari, you need to go home," the man sighed. Svari's eyes dropped to her toes as her eyes started to well with tears. The man frowned and lowered to a kneel in front of her as he placed his hand on her shoulder. "Svari, you need to go home and wait until your mother comes. You shouldn't see this."

"You should tell her that her uncle is scum that betrayed his high king." The cutting voice belonged to an Imperial woman with shoulder-length honey-brown hair. She was fair-skinned and lovely, aside from the deep-seeded hatred in her expression. Her eyes met those of the man as he knelt by Svari; he glared at her with an expression that pleaded 'not now.' The woman paid this silent request no heed. "Best she know now, Addvar."

Svari hung her head with a reluctant nod and started to slowly wander off further into the city, sniffling as she shuffled away. Addvar watched her walk away, his brow furrowed. He shook his head as he spoke. "You're all heart, Vivienne."

The Imperial captain noticed this interaction and frowned; his gaze faltered for a moment before his sharp command cut through the air. "Positions."

"Yes, Captain Aldis." The executioner looked up from the sharpening stone and nodded, rising to his feet to stand behind Roggvir, grasping his axe as he waited for the captain to speak.

"Roggvir. You helped Ulfric Stormcloak escape the city after he murdered High King Torygg," Captain Aldis announced, as the prisoner's eyes did not leave the dried blood upon the chopping block at his feet. "By opening that gate, you betrayed the people of Solitude."

"There was no murder!" Roggvir stated as boldly as he could. "Ulfric challenged Torygg. He beat the king in fair combat."

"Traitor!" a female voice screeched from the crowd; a stone pelted Roggvir in the cheek, leaving an instant welt on his skin. He winced with a frown, but lifted his chin once more.

"Such is our way," he spoke, making eye contact with whoever had thrown the stone. He rose his voice in anger and pride as he continued. "Such is the ancient custom of Skyrim; and all Nords!"

The crowd jeered at this response.

"Stormcloak lover!"

"He doesn't deserve to speak!"

"Coward!"

Captain Aldis sighed and steadily pushed Roggvir to his knees before pushing him down to the chopping block. Mhari watched in horror. This isn't happening. They won't actually...

"On this day..." Roggvir whispered almost inaudibly, his eyes clouding over with acceptance of his fate. "I go to Sovngarde."

With those words, the executioner dropped his axe without a moment's hesitation, the Nord's head rolling to the edge of the stage. Mhari let out an involuntary gasp as she took a step backward, covering her mouth in shock.

I've heard of places that hold public executions, but this is just...barbaric...

There was a moment's silence before the crowd started up again.

"Some gate guard you were!"

"Good riddance to bad rubbish, I say."

"I think I expected more."

A sad voice from nearby whispered on the verge of tears. "It shouldn't have been like this..."

The crowd dispersed as Mhari could hear Captain Aldis mutter under his breath. "Damn shame, Roggvir. You were a good man." He turned and walked away, shaking his head, eyes gazing onward pensively as he returned to his duties.

Mhari found it difficult to move from where she stood, trembling in every limb. It took her some time before she finally found her footing. I think I'll explore the city tomorrow... she thought to herself. I think what I need right now is a stiff drink, a room for the night, and some time to process.

She looked to the left of the main gates to see a massive inn and tavern with a wooden sign illustrated with a small, white, smirking rat, its tail wrapped around a blue circle. Within the blue circle were the words 'The Winking Skeever.'

Thaer wasn't kidding; the inn really was right by the main gate. Mhari thought to herself.

As the sun started to set over the towering city, Mhari pushed the doors and let herself in out of the growing cold.

The inn was even larger on the inside, it's ceiling extended high, sporting two levels above the ground, lined with many rooms. Mhari approached the bar to speak with the innkeeper, who introduced himself as Corpulus Vinius. He was a chubbier blonde Imperial man with laughter in his eyes and the hands of a practiced cook.

"Welcome to the Winking Skeever, friend!" he chortled as Mhari took a seat at the barstool in front of his counter. She smiled politely at him, but her smile did not reach her eyes; flashes of the public execution burned into her vision. "Can I get you something to eat? Maybe some wine? Or if you were looking for a rumour or two, I think I could oblige."

"Actually," Mhari began. "I was wondering something; why is this place called 'The Winking Skeever?"

"Well, as it turns out," Corpulus looked left and right before leaning in closer to Mhari, waving her over conspiratorially; Mhari leaned in, waiting with bated breath for his response. He dropped his voice to a whisper and said, "I had a pet skeever as a boy. And he used to wink."

Mhari's shoulders dropped. That's it...?

Corpulus threw his head back, laughing at Mhari's reaction. "I'm sorry, friend; I couldn't help myself! You walked in here with such a glum face!"

Mhari chuckled, grateful for the distraction. Corpulus slid a bottle of alto wine over to her. "On the house; you look like you can use it."

"Thank you," Mhari replied as she popped the cork and took a swig. The wine was pungent and bitter, but there was a sickly sweet fruity aroma that filled her nostrils and made her head buzz just from inhaling it. This is decently powerful stuff for it's price point. "Did you really own a Skeever as a pet?"

"They were smaller back then," joked Corpulus. Mhari laughed in response, shaking her head at the lunacy.

"Oh; I've never seen an Argonian before," Mhari stated as her eyes followed a male Argonian with green scales and red-orange tavern clothes strode into the inn and took a seat comfortably at a chair in a side alcove. "I'll bet you've seen folks from all over Tamriel come through here."

"Especially these days. We get some interesting people through here from time to time," Corpulus explained, offering a plate of cheese and chopped vegetables to Mhari. She placed a small pile of coins down on the counter in return, taking the plate gratefully. "People say there's a man wandering the streets near the Blue Palace. He seems distressed, but he's not making any sense. No one knows where he came from, but he's certainly not from around here."

Before Mhari could consider what Corpulus said, her attention was drawn to the sound of a female bard in the main seating area as her voice filled the inn.

Our hero, our hero claims a warrior's heart,

I tell you, I tell you the Dragonborn comes.

With a voice wielding power of the ancient Nord arts,

Believe, believe the Dragonborn comes.

Mhari listened for a moment, smiling. "She's quite good; though I'd expect nothing less from a bard that hails from Solitude."

"Ah, you've heard of the bard's college, then?" Corpulus leaned his forearms on the bar as he craned in to listen to the song as well.

It's an end to the evil of all Skyrim's foes,

Beware, beware, the Dragonborn comes.

"I came here to apply at the Bard's College, actually," Mhari replied with a nod, popping another piece of fruit into her mouth. "This song... I've never heard it before. Is it common in Skyrim?"

"Common?" Corpulus guffawed. "It's practically an anthem for the Nords of Skyrim. It speaks of the legend of the Dragonborn. Though I don't know much about the legend myself. I'm sure plenty of books have been written about it."

"I think I'd like to look into that," Mhari smiled at the thought. "I'd bet this land and it's people are rich with the most fascinating history."

For the darkness has passed, and the legend yet grows,

You'll know, you'll know the Dragonborn's come.

"You should play something next!" Corpulus suggested, patting Mhari on the shoulder.

Mhari nearly spit out a mouthful of cheese in surprise. "Oh, I'm not a bard, yet; I've never performed in front of an actual audience before." The small crowd in the inn gave a round of applause for the bard's song.

"This is hardly an audience," Corpulus said with a shrug. "I count about ten people; that's a great number for your first performance. And you can go and tell everyone that you found your start right here at the Winking Skeever when you become a world-famous bard!"

"I don't even have an instrument to play," Mhari replied with a shrug, raising the bottle of alto wine to her lips nonchalantly.

"Oh, you mean like this?" Corpulus reached under the counter and plopped a cow's hide drum on the counter with a comically loud, hollow thunk. "You're out of excuses, bard."

Mhari gave the drum a deadpan stare for a moment before raising an eyebrow at the innkeeper. "You always keep a random drum under your counter? I don't think I want to know what else you've been hiding down there."

"I'll tell you what," Corpulus chuckled. "You play a little song for my patrons; just a little one. And that will pay for your room for the night."

"And if your patrons do not find my playing to their tastes?" Mhari mumbled nervously, eying the small crowd over her shoulder.

"I stand by my offer," Corpulus reassured her, holding his hands up in surrender. "You'll have a room for the night whether you receive cheers or jeers."

Mhari paused for a moment to think. With a resigned sigh, she took one more long swig from the wine bottle and stood from her stool. "Give me a moment to change and get my nerves in check; but I won't turn down a free room."

Mhari popped into an unused room and locked the door behind her, setting her pack on the chair by the small wooden end table against the wall. From her bag, she pulled out a tavern dress; soft blue fabric hung off her shoulders, held together by a copper underbust corset that hugged her form into a more dramatic hourglass-shaped figure. She wore a necklace with the sigil of Kyne, and fitted her wide forehead with a copper and moonstone circlet. I'm going to be playing the part of the bard, I should look the part. This is to be my first performance after all. Mhari rolled her casual gear neatly into her pack and took a deep breath. I didn't expect to be playing in front of an audience so soon. I feel like my heart is about to burst out of my chest...

After giving herself an extra moment to breathe, Mhari strode out of the room with her bag, placing it back on the barstool. An Imperial sailor nearby looked her up and down for a moment, giving an impressed whistle; Mhari suddenly felt more exposed than she ever had before. It may have been a mistake bringing this with me; I should have known it would be too scant.

"Well, you certainly look the part!" Corpulus said, smiling at Mhari's new look. "I must admit, that is a bolder choice of dress than I expected, but it is eye-catching!"

"Maybe too much so..." Mhari mumbled uncomfortably as the eyes of five soldiers at a table by the bar followed her every movement. "Perhaps I should make some adjustments to this dress."

"Why?" a female voice spoke unexpectedly from behind Mhari. She turned to see the female Breton bard who had performed The Dragonborn Comes earlier on. She was lovely, fair-skinned, silver-haired, and stocky; Mhari suspected she was also a fair warrior in her own right. She wore well-maintained scaled armor, fitted with tan furs and leathers; upon her back was a dark wooden lute, and a flute carved from chestnut was tucked safely in a sheath at her hip. "I don't see why you should change your look; you look lovely."

"Thank you," Mhari started hesitantly. "But if I'm going to be a bard, I'd rather my audience pay attention to my music, not my-" she stopped herself, thinking about the most tasteful way to accentuate her thoughts. "...assets."

Corpulus and the bard laughed as Mhari's cheeks flushed with discomfort.

"Forgive our amusement, little bird," the bard apologized, not losing the smile on her lips; her eyes were sincere in her sentiments. "Trust me; people will judge you based on your appearance regardless of what you are wearing. Before you felt those guard's eyes on you, how did that dress make you feel?"

Mhari thought for a moment, remembering the day she'd finished sewing and stitching it together back home. She remembered the swell of excitement as she saw herself in the reflection of the lake back at home, wide-eyed, fresh-faced, and feeling ten feet tall. "Powerful."

"And so you are!" Corpulus cheered, causing multiple patrons to turn their heads to look at them. "Erm; sorry."

"Corpulus is right," the bard agreed, jokingly slapping Corpulus on the shoulder in a mocking scold. "And let no one take that feeling away from you. You think their eyes are on you because you are bearing too much?"

Mhari nodded sheepishly.

"Their eyes are on you because you stand out," she whispered excitedly. "And that is exactly what a bard should do." Before allowing Mhari to interject, she handed the drum to her with a reassuring nod.

"Now, knock them dead, little bird," the bard said finally. "And if anyone gives you trouble, you can tell them Lisette says she will make a new drum out of their hides."

~To Be Continued...~

Note From the Author: Thank you for reading the first official chapter of Songstress of Skyrim! If you enjoyed this chapter, please consider dropping a comment below. I'd love to hear what my readers think; what their favourite parts were, what they'd like to see more of, etc. If I receive any questions, I am happy to either answer them via private message, or even as a short Q&A section in the next chapter. I hope to see you in the next chapter, dear reader. Voth Werid.

~ Pyretta Wychwiggin

[pyrettawychwiggin]

Songstress of Skyrim (Mhari Freysri's Character Sheet - 1)

Disclaimer: This fanfiction contains characters and references to Skyrim. The only character I own is the protagonist, Mhari Freysri. The world surrounding the subject of Skyrim (including its characters) are the property of Bethesda. This fanfiction contains a LOT of spoilers regarding Skyrim and it's DLCs; and is based off of my first playthrough of the game; so this is your warning. This character sheet was written at the point where 'Songstress of Skyrim' begins, and this character is subject to change and grow throughout her story.

Name: Mhari Freysri

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Race: Breton; born and raised just north of Northpoint (High Rock)

Height: 5'7"

Weight: 150 lbs

Preferred Weapons: low-level magic (flame and ice spells), bow and arrow

Favourite Foods: Vegetable soup, potatoes and wine

(Mhari's image was created in Doll Divine's 'Huldrefolk Maker' game - you can make your own here!)

Physical Description

Mhari is a Breton female in her late teens with blue-green eyes and long auburn hair. She has very pale skin for a Breton due to her Nord ancestry on her mother's side. She bears modest curves but is not as toned as a typical warrior in Skyrim as she has not seen much combat outside of hunting for food and defending herself from smaller creatures such as mudcrabs and small frostbite spiders. She has a coin-sized birthmark in the rough shape of a bird in flight on the back of her right shoulder, which she is somewhat self-conscious of, and prefers to keep it hidden when possible. Her daily clothing consists of a blue and copper tavern dress, and a copper and moonstone circlet that she is almost never seen without. She is self-conscious of her forehead, thinking it to be too wide; and so she chooses to wear a circlet whenever possible. At the hip of of her skirt, she wears two strands of beads attached to a braided leather belt, that are varied in design from metal to wood to clay, and are mostly handcrafted by her, or were given to her throughout her young life. One bead in particular she carved in honour of her mother. She wears this at all times on the left side of her body.

General Description

Mhari was born in a small homestead on the outskirts of Northpoint in High Rock, and was raised by her father who was a hunter, farmer of crops, and journeyman blacksmith. Her mother died after falling ill only months after Mhari was born. She has two older sisters who are slowly learning to take over the work of their homestead as their father ages. She has a positive relationship with her family, and although her father was hesitant when she showed interest in travelling to Skyrim to become a bard, her sisters helped to convince him to allow her to pursue her dream.

Mhari is relatively reserved, naïve, and kind-hearted. It is her hope to receive training from the experts at the Bard's College in Solitude so that she may pursue her love of music and storytelling and spread it throughout Tamriel. She also takes a great interest in healing alchemy and healing magic, though she has almost no experience in either. She is not accustomed to battle outside of hunting game and defense against smaller creatures, but she has not fought anything larger than a small frostbite spider or a mudcrab. When she does fight, she has honed what skill she has to focus on long to mid-range attacks, preferring to keep as much distance between she and her enemy as possible. Unnecessary loss of life weighs on her, and she only seeks to kill when she feels all other options have been exhausted. In fact, she prefers to use her flame spells to apply massive heat to her blades so as to cauterize wounds meant to disable only, to avoid killing an enemy unnecessarily. As a result, her elemental magic is relatively weak, and more often used for cooking and alchemy than for combat.

She is a very skilled archer, but she prefers to hunt on her own and has no intention of using her skills for war-based combat. She is familiar with the use of the spear, sword and shield, but her physical strength is quite lacking and most warriors would easily be able to overpower her as she is.

[pyrettawychwiggin]

The Rantings of a Chairside Tooth Fairy (Master List)

Content Warnings: SFW, coarse language, discussing mental health issues such as depression, anxiety, imposter syndrome, etc.

General Summary: this is a series of blog-form posts from myself, a registered dental assistant, about my career. Most of them will likely be rants for the purpose of screaming into the void that is the internet, but probably not all.

Disclaimer: the following entries are from my own personal experiences as I have lived them, and in no way speak for all dental professionals as a whole. All names have been changed to protect the identities of the real people who are involved in these posts.

List of Entries:

• Prologue (1/2) - the start of my story; discussing how I decided to start my career as a dental assistant. Written short-story-style.

• Prologue (2/2) - the final portion of my 'origin story.' Wrapping up the history of my experience navigating my college journey during the brunt of the Covid-19 pandemic. Written short-story style.

[pyrettawychwiggin]

The Rantings of a Chairside Tooth Fairy - A Prologue, Part 1/2

Note from the author: Being a dental assistant is... a mixed bag. It differs from assistant to assistant based on where they studied (if they studied), what country/state/province they work in, what office or specialty they work in, etc.

For the sake of this series - I am a registered dental assistant in western Canada, and as of the time of this entry, I've been assisting for about four years.

These rantings are my own, and don't necessarily speak for all dental assistants out there. Our job can be incredibly unfair and rip-your-hair-out-frustrating sometimes, and I've found that sometimes, screaming into the void is a good way to cope.

That's what this series will be. Just one itty-bitty tooth fairy who needs to blow off a little steam.

Consider this a prologue to my rantings. This post will just kind of tell you a bit about myself, how I got into assisting, and the posts to come will be all the juicy stuff that other people who work in the dental office may be able to relate to on a pretty personal level.

In this series, I'll be going by the name of Fae Rhee - for no particular reason aside from it makes me giggle.

Alright, let's get into it...

Let's set the scene...

It's a chilly evening in the middle of September. 2019.

There's a woman, mid-to-late twenties, twiddling her thumbs behind the counter of some little neighbourhood convenience store. And she's perpetually fed up.

Yep. I'm that woman. Fae Rhee.

Everything about this place bores me to tears; the shirt they make us wear is equally as itchy as it is unflattering. The customers? Generally entitled and entirely lacking in basic empathy. The hours? Garbage. The benefits? Non-existent. The pay? Don't even get me started.

A mixture of rain and snow is blowing just beyond the glass doors of the thankfully empty store. There's still a little daylight left, but I've got another four hours left to go in my shift. That sun'll be long gone by the time I get out of here.

This isn't where I saw myself when I was younger. If you'd told me in my teen years that I'd be standing here of all places, you'd have been met with the shocking realization that I even lived long enough to see adulthood, followed by the utter disappointment in myself.

Don't get me wrong- I've been working retail and customer service basically ever since I took on my first job at a fast food joint when I was 15. I see no shame in working in any of these positions. No, my disappointment stems entirely from my unhappiness. I was supposed to accomplish so much more, do so much more, be so much more. Yet here I am, where every agonizingly slow second that ticks by feels like another second wasted - and for nothing.

I pop out for another cigarette - the only way I was about to get a breather outside of my pathetic little lunch break. There's no customers, anyways. I thought to myself. That should pass the time if nothing else.

I step outside to see a middle-aged man sitting on the cement at the edge of the parking lot. He's a familiar face - one of our regulars. He's very clearly homeless, and he looks rough around the edges, but as far as my interactions, he seems a decent dude. He's never caused any trouble, and he only comes in to buy food and cigarettes whenever he's scraped enough to manage that much.

When the manager's around, he demands that he not be served, but when the manager's not around, the man's more welcome than most of the asshats that I have to serve with a smile.

I pop back in and ring through a couple goodies under my employee discount and head back outside, taking a seat beside him.

I hand him a cigarette and a sandwich and we shoot the shit for a few minutes before a familiar car pulls up.

"Fae!" my manager pops his comically large head out from his car. "I'm not paying you to stand outside the store and suck on cancer sticks."

"I'm on break. Besides, look around you." I stretched my arms out to gesture at the empty store and parking lot. "Not a soul in sight. I'll be all of five minutes."

"Is he eating one of our sandwiches?!" he spat. "I thought I told you not to serve him."

"I didn't. I served myself. I bought the sandwich. So technically, it's mine."

"And he's eating it because...?"

"I decided I didn't want it after all. So I'm sharing it with him." I shrugged. "Last I checked, that wasn't a crime."

"You should have thrown it out!"

"Well, that's a waste of money and a perfectly good sandwich."

"Just get back inside, Fae." The manager sighed in resignation, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I don't want to have to write you up again."

"Yeah, yeah." I put out my nearly-finished cigarette and purposely left my unopened bottle of ginger ale with the homeless man. As I opened the door to the store, I mumbled under my breath. "Did you come here on your day off for a reason, or did you just need someone to yell at?"

"What was that?" he said, folding his arms as he followed me inside.

"Nothing at all, boss-man. Now, what can I help you with, and please make it fast. As you can see..." I popped behind the counter and eyed the empty store. "I'm a very busy woman who needs to get back to doing her very busy woman things."

"I just came to check on the store."

"Well, as far as I can tell, everything's still in one piece," I sighed. "Anything else?"

"Yeah, actually." He pulled out his phone and started texting someone as he spoke. "Jenna won't be in at her usual time - I need you to work overtime tonight."

"Can't," I clicked my tongue. "Got plans."

"Cancel them, then," he shrugged, clearly disengaging from the conversation. "No one else is willing to come in, so you drew the short straw. Sorry."

"I am leaving at eleven," I replied, gritting my teeth in irritation. "Whether there's someone here to man the store or not."

"No, you're staying until one." The manager rolled his eyes and tucked his phone away with a sense of finality. "It's already been approved by the DM. Figure it out."

"Are you kidding me...?"

"And at least try to look busy, will you?" He opened the door with a look over his shoulder. "Better for our image. 'Night."

Fuck your image.

I leaned over the counter as he shooed the homeless man away before driving off and let out a groan of frustration.

A few minutes later, as I scrolled my phone to pass the time, I saw an ad that caught my eye.

'Tired of your dead-end job? Apply today to start your journey into a new career!'

"Huh. That timing, though." I chuckled under my breath. "It's a trades college..."

I frowned, lingering on the ad for a moment.

I barely graduated high school. Most courses from any college or university I could go to required courses I never took. I filled up my time with band, choir, jazz and musical theatre, and mostly skipped the other classes. Hell, sometimes I even skipped the music classes just to practice music on my own down the hall.

There was a time I wanted to be a meteorologist. Or a marine biologist. Maybe an actress, or a singer. Perhaps a firefighter.

Now? I didn't know what I wanted anymore. The options available to me felt unattainable at best.

Yet for some reason, this ad that I would have mindlessly scrolled away from any other night had me frozen in place.

"Ah, well. What's the worst that could happen?" I tapped on the ad and started filling out an intake form. "They'll probably take one look at my transcripts and laugh, but it'll beat spending my afternoon here of all places."

I clicked on the final 'submit' button and was met with a message:

'Thank you for taking the time to fill out our intake form! An admissions counselor will be in touch with you within 24 hours.'

Good for me. I think I deserve to go home a little early today. I stretched, making my final decision. I headed to the back room to change out of my shirt, leaving it haphazardly on the manager's desk, locked up and left the store behind me for the last time. Good riddance to bad garbage. Anything has to be better than this.

To be continued...