#yeah I don’t like stockade so went to the other way

[arcane-map]

I thought Knight Captain Julius, with such a cool backstory, would give some fighting ability,

But no he takes your hand and together you go nyoooom across the screen

[mischiefandspirits]

Doppelgänger (19/19)

Previously on Doppelgänger ~ Masterlist ~ Next time on Doppelgänger

Danny, Sam, and Tucker were just 14 when they took a look inside the portal Danny’s parents had built. From there, everything changed. They woke up with white hair, green skin, and powers they could learn to control. They were hybrids, halfas.

They were the hero Doppelgänger.

{Identity Crisis, Part 2}

Danny melted onto Valerie’s hoverboard with a sigh as she kissed him. She was kneeling between his legs with one of her arms braced next to his head to hold her weight off him while the hand of the other snuck under his shirt to stroke his side. His own hands were occupied with holding her close and running through her long curly hair.

They were hovering high above Amity, partially hidden within some low clouds. They’d been admiring the view and taking in the afternoon sun when they’d gotten a bit distracted.

Valerie chuckled into the kiss and pulled back. She gave his limp form a pleased look then ducked down to pepper his neck with kisses.

Of course, that was when his ghost sense went off.

I’m going to kill whoever it is, Danny thought as Valerie’s scanner started ringing and she pulled away.

“There’s a ghost right beneath us,” Valerie growled, glaring at the scanner before giving Danny an apologetic look.

“Well, I guess that’s what we get for mixing dates with patrol,” he chuckled with a shrug.

She glanced down. “It should be fine to leave it to Doppelgänger.”

He sat up to look down as well, his hair hiding the red shine in his eyes. He spotted a glowing laptop flying down a road.

Ugh, who let Technus out? He reached out for his partners, but neither responded. He looked around to be sure neither of them was in sight and said, “They don’t seem to be here. Should probably make sure the ghost doesn’t cause trouble before they can get here.”

“Yeah.” She pulled up her mask and he braced himself as she brought them down. “Sorry about this.”

“It’s fine, Val. Really.” Jazz is definitely going to kick his butt if she found out about this, though.

Valerie dropped him off in an alley before shooting off after the laptop.

Who let Technus out? Danny asked again as he transformed and flew after her.

Tech-Oh shoot! Tucker hissed. He’s why my laptop was running slow! He must have been stuck in my cache. My bad!

Well, that explains why he’s flying around inside a laptop.

Want some help? Sam asked.

Valerie’s already on the scene, Danny pointed out.

Right, I forgot you guys were on a date.

DON’T LET HER DESTROY MY LAPTOP! Tucker shouted.

Danny turned a corner to see Valerie trying to blast the laptop. We’ll try.

He tried to sneak around the fight so he could try to knock Technus out, but was distracted when Valerie got wrapped in the laptop’s cord.

“Red!” he shouted, shooting towards her to pull her free. He looked her over for injuries. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” she huffed and shoved herself out of his grip as her board swung around to catch her.

“Well now, this is interesting.”

The two turned back to Technus just as the laptop stopped glowing and fell. Danny darted over to grab it before it could hit the ground, then looked around for the ghost.

“My scanner is only picking up you,” Valerie said and Danny checked the computer.

Wireless transfer complete.

“Ugh, he sent himself somewhere else,” Danny groaned.

“Well, you’re the one with technokinesis. I’ll leave you to it.”

“What?” He looked up to see Valerie turning away. “You’re leaving? Just like that?”

“I’ve got a date.”

“Well crud,” Danny muttered. He shoved the laptop into the fold and dove into the ground, flying as fast as he could back to the alley Valerie had left him in. Good news and bad news. Good news, our laptop’s fine and Val’s leaving. Bad news, we lost Technus and Val’s leaving him to us because we’ve got tech powers and she wants to continue our date.

The irony, Sam sighed.

I can’t leave right now. Kiran and I are right in the middle of a debate on which generation of Pokémon is the best, Tucker said.

Kiran? Danny asked, popping up in the alley and transforming back just before Valerie could come around the corner.

This really really cute freshman in the computer club. They’re a gamer who’s building their own PC, they’ve got the hottest smile, and I refuse to let Technus blow this for me!

An unimpressed feeling came from Sam. I’ll take care of Technus. Clearly, your love lives are more important.

“You okay?” Danny asked Valerie. Sorry, Sam. I can tell Val I need to go.

“Yeah, it’s a tech ghost so Doppelgänger’s taking care of it.”

No, it’s fine, Sam said. You’ve ducked out of dates for us plenty of times. You deserve some alone time. It wasn’t really you I was mad at.

“If you’re sure. What do you want to do now?” Danny asked, stepping up onto Val’s board.

I think my love life deserves more consideration than his, Tucker huffed. Since, you know, I DON’T HAVE ONE!

Valerie grabbed his waist and tugged him against her. “How about we find some privacy? We can head to my house since my dad’s working until midnight. We can cuddle and watch tv. I think there’s supposed to be an animated Batman marathon on.”

Danny tuned out his partners as he nodded. He shifted behind her and braced himself as she took off towards Elmerton. She flew up to her window and opened it, letting Danny climb through before slipping carefully in. She recalled her board and pulled down her mask.

The boy didn’t have a chance to react before she was scoping him up and setting him on her dresser so she could kiss him. Her hands slipped under his shirt and he tried to bring his own up, only to knock something off her dresser.

She snorted into the kiss and he mumbled, “Sorry,” as he wrapped his arms around her neck.

“Valerie?”

The two froze.

The door opened and Damon Gray poked his head inside. “I didn’t realize you were -”

Valerie jumped away from Danny while he squeaked and worked very hard not to turn invisible.

No matter how much he wanted to.

Valerie’s father looked at Valerie, then Danny, then Valerie’s suit.

“H-hey, Daddy. I thought you were supposed to be at work,” Valerie said nervously.

“I had a break so I came to grab something I’d forgotten. Fortunately.” He gave her a sharp look. “Get changed. We’re going to have a talk before I head back. Mr. Fenton, out.”

“Yessir.” Danny gave her a quick apologetic look before following Mr. Gray into the living area.

He froze when the man grabbed his shoulder. “I like you, Fenton. You’re a smart kid and you’ve got a good heart. However, if I ever catch you in my daughter’s room without my permission again, you will be reminded in a far more painful way than I’m doing now that I carry a loaded weapon for my job and I am trained to use it. Understand?”

“Yessir. Sorry, sir. I swear, we weren’t doing anything like, you know, that. We were just -”

“Out.”

“Yep, right, leaving!” Danny ran for the front door.

“And Danny,” Mr. Gray called before he could close it behind him. “I suggest you go straight home. I’ll be calling your parents as soon as I talk to Valerie.”

Danny flinched and nodded. “Right.”

As soon as he made it to the alley next to Valerie’s apartment building, he slumped against the wall and screamed into his hands. Then he transformed and headed home as slow as he could.

“We’re dead. We’re so dead. We’re going to spend the next decade in the Fenton Stockades,” he groaned. “We’re so dead! We’ll never see the light of day! Hold still you stupid bucket of bolts! Goodbye cruel world! Wait, why are we transformed? Val’s father walked in on us making out. Sucks to suck. Can we get a hand?” He checked his watch and shrugged, turning towards where Sam was fighting Technus at the boardwalk. “Sure, we’re dead as soon as we get home and Mom and Dad won’t be expecting us back for another half hour since they think we’d have to take the bus. Great, because he’s getting on our nerves.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m grounded for two weeks, Danny said. And I had to sit through mom giving me The Talk again.

Sounds like it sucks to be allo. Can’t relate, Sam said, setting aside the book she’d been reading and grabbing another.

And Jazz came in looking all stern to say that when she told us to spend the weekend having fun, she hadn’t meant that much fun.

Sam snorted.

We didn’t even do anything!

She looked over the passage on Chronos she’d found, but it didn’t have any new information.

Val texted to say her dad’s taking her phone. She’s grounded for a month and her dad’s taking her suit and all her gear.

Sam tossed the book aside. Wait, her dad found out?

We’d just gotten to her house so she was in her suit when he walked in.

She was in the suit when you guys were making out? Tucker interjected out of nowhere. Wait, is the suit kink a Fenton thing? Is that why -

Finish that thought and I’ll toss your laptop into the ghost zone, Danny hissed. Crud, Jazz just came in. She’s making me study with her to make sure I’m not talking to you guys. Talk later.

Bye Danny.

See you, Sam said and stood up. She grabbed the books she’d gathered and went to put them back on the shelves. So you’re done hanging out with Kiran then?

Camp’s over for the day, but we’re going to hang out again tomorrow, Tucker said. What are you up to?

Checking out the paranormal section at Skulk and Lurk. I was hoping they’d have some information on our clock ghost.

Aren’t we supposed to be avoiding ghosts?

Jazz isn’t the boss of me.

True. Want some help?

Are you dressed like your usual self?

Yes?

Pass.

Rude.

I love you, but I will not get kicked out of my favorite bookshop because you’ve decided your aesthetic is traffic light.

Aw, I love you too! Tucker cooed.

Tuning you out now.

Okay, bye, Sammy! Love you!

Sam made a gagging sound in her head as she started looking for new books to check. “Aren’t there any books in here about real ghosts?”

“Try the historical fantasy section.”

She looked over to see Ravage reading the description of a book. “What?”

“The historical fantasy section,” he said, gesturing half-heartedly to the side. “Found a book over there the other day that was about a ghost king. Sounded just like the real dude. The author seemed to understand death and ghosts better than most. Bit too cheerful, but it was an interesting read if you can push past it.”

“Do you remember the author?” Sam asked.

“Worth, or something. The book was King’s Coffin if that helps.”

“Thanks.”

“Whatever. You coming to poetry night?”

“If I can get away from my parents.”

“Good luck.”

“Whatever.”

She went over to the section and found the book Ravage had mentioned alongside a few others written by Regsit Worth: Acropolis of Elysium, Nocturnus, Dark Winds, and Carnivorous Garden.

She pulled King’s Coffin off and glanced over the description before flipping through the book. She skimmed through it and her eyes widened at the ghost’s description and the description of his downfall. She checked the Also By section and smirked when she saw a book titled Shadows of Time. She put Pariah's book back then grabbed the garden book and headed to the counter.

“Would you be able to order a book by this author?” she asked as the cashier rang her up.

The man shrugged and switched to a different register. He asked for the title and typed it in when she answered. “Another print isn’t due for a year or so, but our sister store in San Francisco has a few copies. I can have them send one over, but you’d have to pay shipping upfront.”

“That’s fine.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You know, I think Jazz was onto something about having some weekends to ourselves,” Tucker said when they met up Monday morning. “I had fun at the camp and made great headway with Kiran. Trust me, we’ll be dating by Christmas.”

“Sure you will,” Sam teased. “I’ll admit, though, it wasn’t awful. I got this new book on a wicked plant monster ghost that could actually exist and I might have gotten a lead on our clock ghost. I won’t know until Thursday.”

“Glad you two had fun,” Danny pouted, his forehead pressed against his locker. “Val’s dad threatened to shoot me.”

“If it makes you feel any better, you can just phase through the bullet,” Tucker said, patting his back.

“He has ghost weapons now.”

“You right.”

“You could try not sneaking into girls’ bedrooms,” Sam suggested and Danny flushed.

“Don’t say it like that!”

“Hey, Danny.”

The trio turned to see Valerie walking up.

“Hey, Val. Sorry about Saturday.”

“Not your fault,” she sighed and hugged him. “We both didn’t think that through.”

“You didn’t get into too much trouble, right?”

“Just grounded like I said. I’m mostly just mad about my gear. Dad’s taking the suit into the lab and he’s going to give all the rest to your parents. I told him I didn’t get most of it from you, but I don’t know if he believed me.”

“Better them then Vlad,” Danny said with a shrug. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to get any of it back for you, though. They’ll probably be keeping better track of their gear after your dad talks to them.”

Which means it’s going to be hard to replace their thermoses if one gets damaged, great.

“That’s alright. My dad will be keeping an eye out now anyways.” She pulled back. “I should get going before I’m late.”

“Alright, see you at lunch.”

{The Fenton Menace}

Danny sighed as he scrubbed the lab’s counter. “Can’t I do this later?”

“It’s not as if you have anything else to do,” his mom said pointedly.

Maybe so, he thought, eyeing the gun his parents were working on. But I’d rather not get vaporized when that thing accidentally goes off.

When, not if. Danny knew his parents too well for that.

He went back to his scrubbing and his mom focused back on the gun.

A few moments later, Danny’s breath fogged in front of him and his eyes darted to the portal as a pirate kid and his skeleton parrot flew out and up through the ceiling.

Captain Kid is back, he told his partners. My parents are keeping on top of me so I can’t deal with him.

Headed your way, Tucker said.

I’ll come too. Mom’s trying to drag me to the hairdresser.

Have fun. Danny flinched as the gun went off, thankfully pointed away from him. “Can you guys work on something else while I’m down here, please?”

His dad pouted, but his mom put the gun away with a nod, frowning at the blast mark it had left.

[fang-wolfsbane]

Transformers Animated: Morning After: Chapter 02: Recruitment, Sir?

“Congratulations young cadet. You’ve made it as an official medic for the Autobot alliance. Only a few have ever made it to your position, so be proud of yourself and work hard.”

Those had been the words from Highdrive’s commanding officer the moment he stepped out of the Autobot Academy for Medics – A.A.M. for short. The moment he graduated, Highdrive had been certain that he was going to land a position within the Elite Guard, training amongst the best of the best to serve his home planet, Cybertron.

As third in his class, he had nothing but a promising future ahead of him, until an incident within the academy dorms had cost him a far grater demotion than he had thought necessary. He had been clearing out his dorm room for the next occupant when some of his fellow students had suggested that they play one last prank on their teacher as a farewell gift. Highdrive had been reluctant at first, but not wanting to be the odd one out, he’d gone with them. The idea had been to liquify the classroom hallway from one end to the other. A harmless prank, right? He had never been so wrong.

Not only had they used energon – the very life fuel they all needed to survive – but the teacher had indeed slipped on the wet floor, tumbled out of a carelessly left open window, broke not only their entire right leg apart, but had hit their helm hard enough to cause a crack within their CPU. A security guard had heard the commotion, and before Highdrive could even think of turning to ask his so-called fellow classmates what they would do about the situation, he was the only one left behind in the entire building.

It took some heavy convincing from one of his other teachers to get him a lighter punishment than he knew he deserved, but at this point he supposed it was the best he could hope to. When he was told he was to be the assistant medic on a space bridge repair ship, he tried to convince himself that it was a learning experience. He would have preferred the stockade.

With a personal escort, probably to ensure that he didn’t try and make a break for it, Highdrive had walked into the hanger where the repair ship was waiting. It was big, there was no denying that, and old… very old. How the bots in control of the ship expected it to be able to fly was a question all on its own.

Transforming alongside his escort, Highdrive was handed off to the commanding medic he’d be serving under. An old rust bucket whose white and red paint job certainly looked like it had seen far better stellar cycles. Highdrive visibly flinched to himself, not wanting to think of what his mother would have said if she’d heard him think so ill of a bot he was supposed to learn from. It was only because of his status as a medical student that he’d been kept from getting a permanent smack on his name.

Walking up to the bot, Highdrive tried to hide a visible flinch as he held his servo out towards the older mech. In reality, their colours weren’t that different. Highdrive himself sported orange in place of the other mech’s red. In all the stellarcycles he’d spent at the academy, he’s noticed a similar scheme to all of them. He supposed that when it came to saving lives, something bright coming to the rescue was a sign of reassurance to the one awaiting assistance.

Right, that was what he had been supposed to do when he joined the academy. Save lives, not ruin them…

“Uh, it’s nice to meet you sir. My name is-”

“This the kid?” the mech before him grunted, ignoring the outstretched servo, focusing his attention solely on the bot beside him. Highdrive blinked, reigning in the urge to curl his servo into a fist as he lowered his arm back to his side. There was no doubt that the mech had heard all about Highdrive’s reason for joining – if you could call it that.

His escort nodded, and with a muttered ‘good luck’ in the old bot’s direction, turned on his ped and casually strode off, only seeming to glad that Highdrive wasn’t his problem to deal with anymore. Unlike his fist, his distain at the thought couldn’t be hidden from displaying itself on his faceplate.

“Better learn to grind your dentals here kid, or you aren’t going to last long,” were the mech’s first words to him as he turned and went back over to what Highdrive assumed to be an exterior control panel. Assumed being the key word. He could name each and every single component of a bot – even a Decepticon’s because of the few specimens from the war they’d been allowed to study – and give a list of their functions and possible malfunctions, but to take care of a ship? Surely the medic didn’t expect him to learn to do that too, did he?

Shaking his thoughts free from his CPU, Highdrive found himself jogging after the mech. “Y-Yes sir!”

“Sir, huh?” the other bot mused, stopping momentarily as a pair of pinchers revealed themselves from his forearm. It took all Highdrive’s self-control not to ask how long the other had his medical upgrade. Highdrive had been scheduled to receive his within the next week, or he would have, if the whole ordeal with his teacher hadn’t happened. Goodbye upgrade. “Haven’t heard that in a long time.”

“Is… is it a problem, sir?” Highdrive asked, shifting on his peds a little unsurely. “I could-”

“No. No… it’s fine. It shows you at least have some form of respect left in you,” the mech said, getting to work on the panel. Highdrive knew he failed at keeping the smile off his lips, taking the other’s words as a compliment, whether they were meant to come across that way or not.

“My name is Highdrive, sir. I’ll be looking forward to learning from you.”

“Ratchet,” the old bot introduced himself, frowning as he concentrated on his current task.

“That’s a pretty cool name,” Highdrive said, his smile growing until Ratchet’s blue optics focused on him, a clear, silent warning within them. He found himself taking a step back, yelping when he lost his footing and fell back onto his aft over an open toolbox carelessly left on the floor. As careless as freshly spilled energon in a dark hallway.

“Hey, watch it!” Ratchet scolded. Highdrive flinched, assuming the glare to be fixated on him until the floor began trembling as another bot, nearly three or four times his own size came bouncing over like a spry scraplet.

“Sorry Ratchet,” the bot said, one of his peds narrowly avoiding stepping on Highdrive’s digits. Yanking them away just in time almost had his spark stop. Breathing through his vents, Highdrive tilted his helm back far enough to study the army-green mech. From his build, he had probably enlisted in the military, though his supposed clumsiness left much to thought.

“Saying sorry won’t fix this ship if you break another welding wrench – again,” Ratchet hissed through gritted dentals. The bigger bot lowered his helm in shame before his own traditional Autobot blue optics whirred as they zoomed in on Highdrive’s faceplate.

“Oh, hey there! You must be the new bot,” the bulky bot said, now fully focused on, well, ‘the new bot’ as he put it. “Here, let me help you up,” and before Highdrive could even think to protest, he was yanked onto his peds by a lightly throbbing arm. He made a mental note to check his arm over for any possible dents later. “Sorry if I scared ya. I’m Bulkhead.”

“H-Highdrive,” Highdrive said, managing a nervous smile as his servo subconsciously rubbed over the previously grabbed area. Yup, there were definitely a couple of dents he’d need to buff out when he got the chance. “And no worries.”

That seemed to be enough to satisfy Bulkhead, if his smiling jawline was anything to go by. A nano sec later, he was blinking, all giddy again like a sparkling overdosed on sweetened energon. “Oh, you haven’t met Bee yet! Come on, I’ll introduce you!”

Before Highdrive could blink, he was swept up by the large Autobot and taken inside the old ship like some guest of honour. The tight squeeze holding him in place against Bulkhead’s frame was enough to warn him not to get on the other’s bad side.

“Hey Bumblebee! The new bot’s here!” Bulkhead excitedly announced as he took them into what seemed like the command room. In the commander’s chair was a slim, yellow, and grey mech, taking a stasis nap. He couldn’t be the commander, could he? Not wanting to risk upsetting his new superior on his first day, Highdrive took the plunge.

“Uh, it’s g-good to meet you, sir,” Highdrive managed to wheeze out.

“Sir?’ both Bulkhead and the smaller bot – Bumblebee – repeated, blinking at him in surprise as if he had just told them he himself was their commanding officer. Highdrive flinched, instantly regretting his assumption.

“Are you not the commander?”

“Pft, no,” Bumblebee sneered, casually flipping his peds up on the dashboard. All too comfortable with occupying the commanding seat, despite his lack in both title and possibly qualifications.

“Then why are you…?” Highdrive trailed off after noticing the way Bumblebee’s optics seemed to darken. A sore spot. A wound better left untouched. “Noted…”

“So, what frag-up got you here?” Bumblebee asked, getting to his peds, and resting his servos on his hip plating once Bulkhead deemed it safe to release his hold on Highdrive.

“I’d… rather not talk about it, if you don’t mind,” Highdrive admitted, pretending to find an interest in dust that decided the corner was a good place spot to begin its invasion.

Bumblebee casually shrugged his shoulders, pulling over a mop and bucket from who knows where, and shoved them right into Highdrive’s servos. “You’re on clean up duty. Doc bot says we gotta get this old dump clean before the new Prime gets here.”

Highdrive blinked. “Prime?”

“Uh, yeah,” Bumblebee frowned, arching an optic ridge in question, “do you not know what a Prime is?”

“Of course I know what a Prime is,” Highdrive found himself hissing back, earning a surprised blink from the shorter mech. All Cybertronians knew what Primes were. He’d have had to online on some far away organic planet to not know about something so simple about their planet’s culture. Slag, even the Decepticons knew what a Prime was, even if they themselves haven’t been around for eons after the war ended with the Autobots coming out on top. Breathing air out through his vents, Highdrive straightened himself out. “Why is a Prime coming here though? Is there some inspection or something?”

“Nope. Doc bot said he got demoted or something. That he’s lucky to still keep his title after whatever he did,” Bumblebee hummed, casting a glance up at Bulkhead, “though I guess we all are.”

Highdrive didn’t dare ask as he looked to the two objects in his servos. He had no idea Bumblebee could be so right.

[yamithediaperdork]

A timeline in cuteness (My hero academia)

It had been a normal day at the local mall. Teenagers where loitering and hanging out, people where going and buying things they needed (and something that they didn't need) and Mothers were watching their young kids play in the play area while sipping coffee and shooting the shit.It was then that something that would make the rounds on YouTube, and go down in legends of the mall happened.A young Blond man, red faced, a red haired guy, holding his hand and leading the way.. And the red head was carrying a large white diaper bag and the blond was dressed like a toddler.blue denim jean short all's with a light yellow t-shirt on under, though some mothers seeing it and noting the budge in the butt and crotch area assumed (and they would be right) that it was more of a onesie/diaper shirt deal going on. White socks that poked out of power ranger themed light up sneakers finished the look, save for a black and red pacifier that was clipped to the blond's shirt, the clip colored and decorated to look like a little shark.They were heading towards the new photo studio in the mall, Perfect Memories, Clearly going to get some 'baby pictures' done.The little adventure had started in a way 19 months earlier, when Katsuki Bakugo and Ejiro Kirishima had decided to spice up their relationship. Katsuki despite his brash and vulgar attuide was a natural submissive, while Ejiro was a natural dominant.They had been pushing limits and testing things out.Katsuki loved being spanked though Ejiro preferred it be saved for just punishments, and Ejiro wanted to baby Katsuki which the blond had shot down hard.They had both comprised to try a extended chastity play, and while Ejiro could end it at any given time, Katsuki had made a video agreement to wear the tight pink device for as long as master wanted him to. That was Katsuki's mistake, he had assumed it would just be for a month tops, but instead found himself on his knees and pleasuring daddy while leaking.At the 5 month mark Katsuki, despite saying he'd never whine or beg, had broken down pleading and begging for a release. Ejiro had just smirked and started to lay out the terms.If widdle Katsuki wanted a nice deep prostate massage, he'd have to start wearing dino themed training undies, 24/7, no exceptions. that could earn a hour a week with Mr.buzz in his boy pussy. If he wanted daddy to give him a good and proper fucking, but with the cage still on, he'd have to wear and use a diaper, and use it fully.And if he wanted the cage off all together, at least for a hour or so, well, he'd have to REALLY earn that, via letting daddy dress him like the oversized toddler Ejiro knew he was, and let daddy get some baby pictures at a professional studio.Naturally Katsuki had told him where to go and how to get there, and held out for anther month before surrendering every pair of his boxers and getting 12 pairs of training undies with thick padding in the front and back while looking like a pair of briefs, and could be washed. So once a week after that Katsuki would spend a hour in a stockade, in just his training undies and a vibe (Mr. Buzz) in nice and deep as the poor submissive made good use of the padding in his undies.he couldn't cum though, all he did was leak and drip into the undies, but it at least helped with his swollen balls. Katsuki swore though that was as far as he was willing to go with it, till he walked in one day at the 8 month mark, after work and found his boyfriend and daddy dom making out with Izuku."oh hey sweetie, you know remember Izuku right? I ran into him the other day at the market." Ejiro asked, smirking as Katsuki just stood there in shock."I..I..""oh Heyyy Katsuki~ your 'daddy' has been telling me alll about the fun games you two have been playing, and showed me your cute widdle undies." Izuku said, smirking and winking. "Izuku here actually went on and became a full on superhero after school, unlike you and me, and I've been listening to his stories about what a big strong man he is and well, I hope you don't mind sweetheart but I DO have needs.and since your cute widdle dicky couldn't even do it for me before being locked up..." Ejiro trailed off and shrugged.Izuku smirked and then cupped the redhead's chin, and pulled him in for a nice long kiss, looking at Katsuki the whole time.Breaking the kiss off, Izuku stood up from the couch and tugged Ejiro to his feet."Katsuki, would you be a good boy and start making something for supper? I have a feel your daddy is gonna be VERY hungry when I'm done with him. But you don't have to rush, it'll be at LEAST a hour." Izuku said, a smirk on his face."I..But..I..""Sweetie listen to Izuku please. there's a extra half hour of Mr. Buzz time in it for you." Ejiro said and blushed.he looked like a fucking school girl about to get fucked for the first time!"I...Yes daddy." Katsuki had said, then turned to go to the kitchen, face burning and leaking big time."Good boy~" Izuku said.After Izuku had supper with them (going as far as to cut up Katsuki's food for him) Katsuki was too horny to think strait. he wanted a ass fucking like he'd heard Ejiro getting and knew HOW to get it."I..uh..Daddy..""Look Katsuki, I know that caught you by surprise, and we hadn't talked about cucking really, it was a spur of the moment thing an-" Ejiro had started to said, rubbing the back of his head but then he was cut off by Katsuki."Where are the fucking diapers!? I need dick bad So I'll fucking load one up if you promise to fuck me like fucking Deku fucked you!" The blond whined."Heh..I see~ well first of all, Never call him Deku again. it's Izuku or Mr. Midoriya from now on. Secondly, I have them under the bed, so go and get one little guy." Ejiro said, then added. "But first, come give daddy a kiss on the cheek~"Katsuki nodded and had given his boyfriend the kiss, and it just felt so totally different from the hungry lip mashing that Izuku and Ejiro had done in front of him, it was more like a little boy kissing his parents goodnight.Sadly for Katsuki, after being taped in the thick puffy diaper, and waddling around in a t-shirt and the diaper so daddy could keep giving him bum checks, he hadn't been able to go uh-oh before bed.He'd just given daddy his good night blowjob, then crawled into bed and nuzzled him. Crinkling and squirming all night long and soaking the diaper over and over.It would take until the next morning, while Ejiro was getting dressed for his job for Katsuki to finally fill the seat of his diapers and he'd hated every second of it, but had been grinning and excited because it meant getting fucked.Only for daddy to tell him they didn't have time before he was due into work, and Katsuki would have to wait.Being told that he could get back into his dino undies, and being promised a nice and hard fucking after work, Ejiro had to rush out the door after kissing Katsuki's forehead, and telling him not to stay in his stinky diaper too long.10 seconds after their door closed, Katsuki had a cry baby fit that the whole block heard.Daddy had kept his word, even if he was less then impressed Katsuki hadn't taken the trash out after changing, and their apartment was semi filled with the boys stink. Katsuki saved himself a time out punishment when it turned out he had gone nose deaf to his own stink and blushed when daddy pointed it out.Sadly for the blond, even with the brutal prostate pounding he took from daddies cock, it still wasn't enough for a full on mind blowing orgasm and he was left whimpering and trying to beg for more as daddy pulled out."Sorry buddy, you know you have to earn them" Ejiro had said, and nodded to the pack of diapers. "Do you want daddy to diaper you again?""..Is..is Mr. Midoriya coming over today?" Katsuki asked, poking his fingers together, apparently not even realizing he hadn't even used Izuku's first name."Do you WANT him to come over?" Ejiro asked. "N-Not if I'm gonna be in a diapie.." again the well fucked boy was using terms and not even seeming to notice, and fuck if it didn't make Ejiro wanna just slid back in the boys destroyed hole."Well then no, he's not coming over. Lift your bum up for daddy~" Ejiro said, reaching for a new diaper.Katsuki naturally did as he was told.After that Diapers became a more and more regular thing around the house, though Katsuki made Ejiro promise NOT to tell Izuku about them and refused to wear when the bigger and stronger boy was over. Katsuki started learning how to cook all of Izuku's favorite meals for when he'd come over and was rewarded with getting to watch daddy and his boyfriend fuck.that was what Izuku started to called himself, Ejiro's boyfriend. Katsuki had gone to argue HE was daddies boyfriend and was met with chuckles and told he was too cute, and gotten a head pat. It was a year after first being locked in diapers, when Ejiro decided it was time for Katsuki to just wear his diapers full time around the house, though he could keep the dino undies for when he had to work. The blond had fought tooth and nail, trying to argue he didn't wanna wear all the time but.."Sweetie, lets be honest here, when's the last time you used the potty that Izuku wasn't over?" Ejiro asked."I..uh.." and Katsuki paused and thought about it, and as he did his cheeks turned crimson."Yeah, your basically wearing diapers ALL the time to get fucked anyways. I haven't even used Mr.buzz on you in a month." Ejiro pointed out. the realization that Katsuki had basically put himself in diapers if not 24/7, then 22/5 hit him like a ton of bricks and he started to tear up."Hey heyyy..It's OK sweetie. I think it's hella cute." Ejiro said and pulled the self trained diaper boy into his lap, kissing him on the cheek and cuddling him."I..But..If I wear all the time..Mr. Midoriya will-" Katsuki tried to argue, slipping into his baby tone of voice and fighting the urge to suck his thumb."oh Sweetheart.. You think he doesn't know you wear anyways? And before you have a fit, it's kinda hard to hit the poopie diaper smell from your bedroom."His bedroom. that was anther low point. With Izuku spending more and more nights over, Katsuki had been sleeping out on the couch till Ejiro and Izuku had surprised him by turning a storage room in the apartment into a mini bedroom. there was a bed, a waste basket, a night table and a lamp, and while cramped it worked."B-But if he knows.." Katsuki whined."then there's no reason for you NOT to wear. and uh..He's actually a little annoyed with me that I won't take pictures for him to see how cute you are in them. he's the one who got that current pack for you with the teddy bears." Ejiro said sheepishly, in truth the main reason he had been pushing for 24/7 wear was so Izuku would start fucking him hard again, instead of half assing it.He'd become a master of using his dick to get what he wanted."H-he did that?" Katsuki asked, feeling even more shame, though a small smile was on his face.the teddy bear diapers actually felt nicer and help up better then the drug store diapers they'd been using before, and while he still wasn't a fan of messing himself Katsuki liked how much more he could wet these, and rub the warm front against his cage."Yeah, said he wanted his darling little cuck to look adorable." Ejiro said and kissed the big babies cheek. "plus these hold up better for your naughty rub's." he added winking.Katsuki lost the battle not to suck on his thumb at that point, and Ejiro just kept giving him cuddles.When Izuku (or Mr.Midoriya as Katsuki addressed him as) came over that night, he was delighted when Katsuki opened the door, wearing a baby blue t-shirt that read 'Good boy in training ' and his teddy bear pampers."well now, don't YOU look cute~" Izuku said and patted Katsuki on the head with his free hand, having a shopping bag in the other."Yes sir Mr.Midoriya." Katsuki said, and despite the pouty tone, Izuku noticed the boy couldn't help but smile from the head pats.Katsuki stepped out of the way and Izuku walked in, seeing Ejiro at the kitchen table and working on some papers from work, te red head was a legal aid."I see your talk with our little guy went over well." he said, walking over and setting his bag on the table, and leaning down to kiss Ejiro."mmmhhmm~ Indeed. I just need five more minutes to finish this up though. you staying the night?""Of course. And something smells VERY good, what are you making us little guy?""Oh! I'm making your favorite Mr. Midoriya, Katsudon!" Katsuki beamed."oh my, somebodies spoiling me..and Katsuki buddy, I think we can drop the Mr. Midoriya thing. from now on just call me papa ok?" Izuku asked and smirked.Katsuki blushed badly, but meekly nodded. The blond waddled into the kitchen to check on supper and Izuku took a seat."He's really just too damn cute." Izuku said and took a seat next to his boyfriend."he really is. what's in the bag?" Ejiro asked, rushing to finish his paper work while also trying not to made a mistake."oh, that's a little something for after supper. I wanted to get a little something for both my boys." Izuku said and winked."..See now I wanna peek and see what it is." Ejiro said and smirked."Mmmhmm..and which one of you two is the toddler again?" After a big meal, the three were seated in the living room, Ejiro and Izuku on the couch and Katsuki on a blanket on the floor, though instead of facing the TV like normal he was turned towards them."so who wants their present first?" Izuku asked, and gave a semi warning look to Ejiro as the red head went to raise his hand. Smoothly the red head just kept his arm going and pout it around Izuku's shoulders."well I think after being such a good boy, Katsuki should go first." Ejiro said.Not even Katsuki was fooled and just giggled a little, though he covered his mouth."Very smooth." Izuku teased and then reached into the bag, pulling out a box wrapped in teddy bear wrapping paper. Here you go little guy, I hope this will help with your 'good boy training' though if you ask me, you're already one~"Katsuki grinned, reaching and taking the box and then like a little kid, eagerly ripped at the wrapping paper and opened the box.and froze and looked up, face going super red."Sooo what is it little guy?" Ejiro asked."I..I.." Katsuki whined and then held up a large cockfier. the mouth guard was a light baby blue, and the cock shaped nipple was a good 5 inches  and VERY thick and VERY life like."I heard about how much you've been on your thumb and well, Little boys have dirty hands. From now on when you wanna suck on something, you can suck on that." Izuku said with a chuckle.  "what do you think? It cost a pretty penny but I think your worth it~"Katsuki hadn't been able to say anything, and was just staring at the cockfier and while he looked horrible embarrassed, he was also licking his lips."Katsuki, Papa gave you a very nice present. what do we say?" Ejiro asked."it's ok, I know he's just a little touge tied. you can thank me latter buddy. go ahead and try it out."  Katsuki nodded, and started to raise the fat nipple to his lips, but then paused."uh... Thank you papa." he lisped out, having gone full baby tone again.then as daddy and papa watched, the big baby suckled on his cockfier and closed his eyes, rocking back and forth and his fingers wiggling."heh.. Guess I should give him his other present." Izuku said and reached in the bag again and pulled out a teddy bear that been custom made, and was wearing Izuku's hero costume.He leaned forward and handed it to the good boy in training and both daddies chuckled as Katsuki snatched it and hugged it to his chest.The big baby had honestly zoned out after that, and while he did open his eyes after a few, he more just turned and watched cartoon on the TV, having wet his diaper and gave himself naughty rubs with one hand, while hugging super teddy with the other.Between the sounds from the TV, and the sucking of his sucking, he could barely hear daddy and papa making out on the couch behind him, though he heard the unzipping of pants.He might a been willing to give up the riveting plot going on with paw patrol to watch that, but Papa told him to be a good boy and keep his back to them. Katsuki wasn't that shocked when a mere month later Izuku moved into the apartment, making it clear that his former sometimes nursery was now his permanent room.there was talk of getting a bigger apartment though, or maybe even renting a house since well, some of the neighbors were starting to complain about the smells coming from the apartment.it was a month or so after THAT that they had found a nice little house, it was only one story but it had enough rooms for Katsuki to have a proper nursery and, and this was the big selling point for Ejiro and Izuku: A yard for widdle Katsuki to go out and play.it was true that following his gift of a teddy bear, Katsuki had maybe started to collect some other toys, ranging from stuffies to action figures and even a few tub toys (he wasn't allowed to take a shower anymore, that was a adult privilege) But that didn't mean he liked the toy of being in the front yard in the double diapers he wore as a standard these days.It wasn't even for his humiliation or a decision that Izuku or Ejiro had made for kink reasons, it was more once Katsuki had given up on the possibly of using the potty his bowels and bladder had seemed to go into overdrive and even with his teddy bear diapies, he was leaking a lot more often.One small part of annoyance for poor widdle Katsuki in this adjustment was even though he was going poopie in his diapers like a champ, and wetting them, Daddy dialed back his butt fucking to just a mere 3 times a week.Though when he'd gone to have a fit over it papa had tugged him over his lap and well, given Katsuki something to cry about.Standing in the corner with a bar of soap in his mouth and his toasted buns on display while listening to daddy and papa make out, really hadn't helped the poor turned little when it came to the need he was experiencing.it had also shown him that despite his love of spankings, Papa could still make it a punishment.Come moving day Katsuki was a good little helper, wearing his good boy in training t-shirt and a pair of shorts over his diapers. they had even gone all out and gotten extra stuff unknown to the little guy, so when he carried the first box of his stuff he was greeted with the site of a crib and a changing table in his room, and turned around to see a smirking Daddy and papa."I..but..I wanted a big boy bed!" he squeaked out."And I wanna make sure you stay in bed in the morning till we're ready for you." Papa replied."Don't worry sweetie, we'll have a baby monitor on and we'll know if you need us." Daddy added."Now what do you say?" Papa asked."...Fank ku."Life in their new neighborhood wasn't exactly easy on little Katsuki.  For one it didn't take long for the other ids on the block to figure out he was the source of any stinky smells.aside from making use of his toys or swimming in the pool his daddies had set up in the backyard, Katsuki was mostly ignored by the older kids he wanted to play with, and in a weird way had started to look up to, being semi jealous of their boxers and being potty trained.that left the older and younger -ick- girls who loved to play house with him/tease him like crazy and of course play dates with the younger boys.He thought it was weird just how many little kids who were potty training came over to play with him, till he overheard one dad asking his son if he wanted to end up a oversized baby just like Katsuki.when Katsuki went to whine about this to Ejiro, it turned out that they were providing a service for a modest little fee to help scare kids into potty training."and since you got fired from your job after pooping your diapers and crying for daddy, we can use the income." Daddy added.more time flew by and it wasn't long before a wedding was in the works. Daddy and papa had fallen hard for each other and while it hurt that Ejiro had dumped him as a boyfriend, at this point Katsuki could hardly think of himself as a man.17 months in and his butt fucking's had dropped off to a once a month affair and Katsuki couldn't even tell when he was wet anymore. it was only the tell tale sign that let him know when he was poopie.Still with a wedding date set and coming up fast, it was Katsuki who struggled to think of a good wedding present for his daddies, though the nature of his current lifestyle meant he'd have to have one of them help him get the gift.Little Katsuki wasn't trusted with anymore then 10 dollars at a time, his weekly allowance, since he started to be really bad at losing his money while playing or older kids bullying him for it.Though the last time a 14 year old had tried that, he'd found himself facing the wrath of Izuku in full costume. Still as Katsuki laid on his tummy in the living room, sucking on a paci (his normal one, he out got the one that Papa had given him at bed time or during his monthly pounding) and using his crayons to fill in a coloring book, he thought long and hard about what to do.he was in Short or overall's with a diaper shirt most f the time now, just to help with the diaper sag and it helped keep some of the meaner kids from panting him when he came out to play, and he was kicking his sock covered feet.Daddy was on the couch, working on a laptop having managed to set up his job so he could work from home and gave him a look ever now and then, before finally closing the laptop."alright, I can smell the burning from here. what are you thinking about?" Daddy teased.Katsuki huffed at that, he had apparently gotten slightly dimmer and daddy and papa liked to tease when he thought too hard they could smell burning.He started to explain what he wanted to try and do, get a present for them but Ejiro just smirked and taped his own mouth.Katsuki was confused for a second, then realized he hadn't taken his paci out and blushed and tugged it free."Wanna try that again sweetie?" the red head asked."I wanna git you and papa something fer the wedding." Katsuki said, he always talked super babyishly for a few after taking out a paci or being bottle fed."Oh? Buddy we told you, just you being our ring boy is enough." "Nooo I hafa git you presents!" Katsuki whined."Heh, you make us LOTS of 'presents' so again yo-" Ejiro started."NOT THAT KIND! Look, I wanna do SOMETHING.. but I uh.. Need help." Katsuki said, and rubbed the back of his head."Setting it up, or paying for it?" Ejiro asked, realizing there wasn't gonna be any peace in the house till he agreed."Um.. Both. and uh.. Ok. this ISN'T just so i can go goo goo gaga..though that'll be nice.." Katsuki gulped a little, even as Daddy grinned.he knew what Katsuki was about to say."W-what if we got some professorial pictures done for you and papa? with um.. me in diapies?" Katsuki said, poking his fingers together."I think that would be VERY nice. and don't worry, you'll get to make lots of 'goo goo gaga's'" Daddy said and help out his arms.Katsuki giggled and crawled over (it was just faster) and snuggled into daddies arms.Finding a place willing to take the pictures had turned out to be trickier then expected, and it had taken the new studio opening up and being desperate for customers for it to work at all.But now, 18 months after first being locked up, Katsuki was ready to show what a good little guy he'd become.The staff were nice as they came in, and Daddy took care of most of the details while Katsuki talked with the young guy taking the pictures.He was interested in hearing about the family dynamic of the trio and gave LOTS of head pats to Katsuki so that when daddy was done and they were ready to start, he was totally relaxed.Maybe a bit TOO relaxed as before Katsuki could get into the first pose, he found himself popping a squat and starting to unload into the seat of his diapies.The photographer smirked, and took a few pictures while others were less then..pleased was the big baby fudged his huggies and a less then fresh smell filled the place."it's not so bad, I once shared a 1 bedroom apartment with four guys." the photographer commented."Oh yeah, we tried to avoid the cabbage baby food today just in case." Ejiro said."Smart."As the big baby finished destroying his diapers, he was blushing badly. he'd been planning on just being a widdle cutie, not having a mushy booty."Katsuki, whats wrong?" Ejiro called over, and nudged for the photographer to get ready to take a picture.Katsuki looked over his shoulder, holding his nose and pointed with a finger to his drooping diaper butt."I went boom boom!" he whined, as the picture was taken."you sure did. but it's OK. we all know your just a big baby. you're gonna look SO cute." Ejiro called over. "Why don't you do the other pose you were gonna do for the pictures buddy?""I..I uh.. guess." Katsuki said.making sure he was well balanced, he bent over and braced himself with his hands on the floor, but peeked though his legs to look at daddy and the nice picture man, and flashed them a smile as his picture was snapped."oh! hang on!" He called and then fumbled with his paci, getting it in his mouth and waited for a second flash of the camera."VERY cute little man~" Daddy called over and Katsuki giggled then rolled over, squishing his diaper and making the smell get worse."Um..Um..I'm sorry..but can you change him?" One young lady asked, her eyes watering and she looked like she was fighting the urge to run away.Ejiro chuckled and nodded, even as Katsuki, having missed her request had moved onto the next pose and was On his back, hold his legs up and looking up for the next picture.which of course was taken."Ok buddy, little time out for a diapie change.""what, already?" Katsuki asked, raising a eyebrow. normally he's sit in his own soft serve for like, at least a good 20 minutes."Yeah, your a bit much for the staff to handle buddy." Ejiro said and winked."Hehehe Fear my all powerful STINK BUTT!" Katsuki giggled and clapped, which of course, picture taken.The big baby got up so daddy could undo the button on his short all's and then before laying down, and with the crotch snap of his onesie undone he turned around before sitting down."h! oh! look! Papa got me a new onesie and it's got a skunk on it cuz I'm a widdle stinker!" he said proudly.and you guessed it, picture taken.getting the poopie boy on his back, Ejiro opened up the diapers the diapers and one staffer ran out of the shop."it's actually not that bad." Ejiro commented. "you should of seen him after chilli cheese dog night."the staffers who were braving the smell chuckled at that, and Katsuki sucked on his paci and played with super teddy, which had been brought along just for this.the little guy got some chuckles as his cock lock was seen but thought they were giggling at him playing with super teddy so he hammed it it, grinning big time.Sadly no picture was taken THAT time since the studio was license for porn. As the diaper change was wrapping up, Katsuki was turned on his tummy so that Ejiro could sprinkled baby powder on his butt to help with a rash Katsuki had been starting to get. "Ok buddy we're almost done he-" Ejiro started to say when Katsuki let out a squeaky fart that sent a cloud of baby powder up in the air, and well, since his fronts had been covered the photographer had been going for a picture and manged to catch the moment on camera.After getting his diaper changed and getting redressed, Katsuki was a good little helper and carried his poopie diaper to the trash for daddy and then posed for a few more pictures.they then went to the food court for a little snack while the pictures were developed, going to the McDonald's and of course Katsuki got a happy meal.He was playing with the toy race car he'd gotten as the came back into the studio."well I have to say, this was the most interesting and adorable photo shoot I've even done." the photographer said and chuckle, handing over the book with the pictures in it to Ejiro.or at least that was the plan. what happened instead was Katsuki took it and started to flip though it, having stuffed the car in the diaper bag and giggled lots."Oh yeah! dis is good! great job!" Katsuki praised.Ejiro just smirked and rolled his eyes, and paid for the pictures as Katsuki hugged the album to his chest."So, If I need anymore pictures taken, can I come back?" Katsuki asked.Half the staff paled at that thought but the photographer, who was also the owner just smirked."Of course little guy." He said and ruffled Katsuki's hair.As the pair waled (well waddled in Katsuki's case) out of the mall Katsuki kept hugging the album to his chest.He really was lucky. some would argued he was semi tricked or forced into life as a little diaper boy, but honestly with how easily it had all happened, Katsuki himself had to admit deep down he had always been a little.'I'm  a super lucky little guy to have two awesome daddies.' he mentally gushed and nuzzled into daddy.The end

[displacedleylines]

Maybe

(Drafted this over a month ago but just now finished it. WHUPS.  Writing drabble for my WoW toon Cameron. He doesn’t have his own blog, so this is going here.)    The deeper tunnels of the Stormwind Stockades with its musty and stale air was where you went when you were to be forgotten. Most of these cells were empty; or, one could argue that there was so little hope left in anyone who was stuck here, that all the cells were empty. The torches survived the stagnant halls only because a clever or perhaps lazy guard years ago, thought to have the flames enchanted to stay burning. That way, no one would never have to look to see if any needed relighting. Occasionally, yes, a guard or two would patrol these halls. Usually, if they were avoiding some other duty, wanted some peace and quiet, or actually remembered that there were people back there who needed to eat. Sometimes, though it happened not as often these days, the smell of death would linger in the halls, wafting into the cells of those who had the misfortune of still being alive.  Thankfully, this was not one of those days, and the air smelled instead of dust with a dampness that lingered in your chest with every breath.     Cameron knew every corridor by heart. He had to. Working for the city like he did, understanding every passage, every nook, every hidden secret was part of being an agent. This, plus the ability to stealth past most people was significant not only in helping to keep the city safe but to sneak into places where he didn't belong. However, if caught, Cameron could easily argue that as an SI:7 Agent, he had every right to occasionally patrol the Stockades without needing to announce himself beforehand. Though thus far, he never needed to use that excuse, nor did he ever plan on needing it.  In fact, he was so confident now about never being caught back there, that the moment he moved past the area of the Stockades that held the rowdiest, most well-known prisoners, he would come out of stealth and saunter down the corridor as if walking into his own home.  What did it matter if one of the forgotten prisoners saw him? Who were they going to tell? Even if they pulled aside any guard that walked by, Cameron would either be long gone. That of course, was also assuming any guard that was told would actually care enough to question it.    "One of these days..." He would think to himself at the same right hand turn every visit, "I'm going to find the key that works on these cells, and I'm just going to let everyone out."  Cameron wasn't terrible at picking locks, he was quite good at it, just like most other rogues, but no matter what he did, no matter how many times he tried he couldn't get any of these cells open.  A mystery he wanted to solve, but not one he could easily ask for help with.

Eventually, his routine future promise to no one but himself was once more broken upon reaching his destination. There was nothing different about this cell's appearance, it looked like every other cell in the block. Stubborn bars that were wide enough for an arm to squeeze through lit only by a couple of torches on the wall across from the cell door.  This was when Cameron would pull back the blue leather hood with the attached golden, bird-like mask to reveal his messy brown hair and young, freckled face.  This undramatic reveal was always how he announced himself, even though it couldn't possibly be anyone else.       "Is  it Tuesday already?" The words fell out of his father's mouth with a deep, slow drawl. "Could've sworn you were just here. Guess time is just gettin' all muddled now." His father scooted closer to the bars, too tired to stand today.  Cameron kneeled and grasped the bars, giving them a ritualistic tug in hopes they'd rusted through.    "Nah. It hasn't been a week. I managed to sneak in a bonus visit this week."    "It ain't Winter's veil already is it?" His Dad joked with a deep laugh.    "Pffft. No. It's just my birthday. And I decided that what I wanted was to see you both."    "Happy birthday, baby bird. Our gift to you is that you didn't find us dead." His mother called out from the back of the cell. Tired, dirty. Her left shoulder was pressed against the wall as her head used the masonry as a pillow, staring out ahead as if somehow the other wall would provide a miracle despite all hope having been long lost.    "You wastin' a birthday in here?" His Dad snorted. "Don't you got friends to go an have fun with?" Cameron didn't answer, he simply pursed his lips together in annoyance before changing the subject.    "They still have me mostly working the graveyard shift, digging holes. I'm starting to think that's all I'm good for." His Dad scoffed and reached through what little space the bars offered to place a tired hand on Cameron's uninjured left cheek. Despite the callused thumb that brushed more dirt on Cameron's face than it took off, the gesture was soft, kind, gentle.    "We seem to have doomed you to digging holes. And we weren't even farmers! Though I guess if bein' an Agent doesn't work, it's a good skill for real cemetery work." Chhk. Chhk. Chhk.  It didn't matter where he dug, dirt always sounded the same.  Chhk. Chhk. Chhk. The sound echoed in Cameron's memories as he stared at his parents. He could see them both. Right there. In the cell. And he could see them back in Westfall. Packing. Hiding valuables as Cameron dug graves for the rest of the family. Chhk. Chhk. Chhk. Chhk. Just a kid, but he made sure every single plot was the right size, the proper depth. They had to be perfect now because there would be no chance to fix them later.    "Yeah. It's been handy. Really sells the cover I'm just a cemetery worker. Burying other people's handy work." Cameron replied with a snort, his dad answered with a playful wink.        "Hey. That's not a bag gig. Knowing where some of the bodies are buried."           "It's just petty people that no one would miss anyway. It's not like they're trusting me with anyone important."    "Heey. Hey, now." Rictor pulled his hand away from his son's cheek and shook a pointed finger at him instead.  "No such thing as an unimportant person. Hey, hey, look at me." Cameron had glanced away, pretending as if something more interesting was happening down the dark hallway. "Cameron James Trafton. You look at me right now, yer an adult, not a child, so quit lookin' around for Great father Winter, and look at me."  Cameron puffed his cheeks out before he gave in and turned his head to look his father right in his tired, dark eyes. "Everyone is important to somebody. And those somebodies are important to others, and those others are loved by even more others until all those others stop bein' strangers you don't know, and they all start bein' people you care about." Rictor poked Cameron's forehead as if to strengthen the point he wanted to make to his son.  "Which is why, whenever you do anythin' for the SI:7, even if it's takin' out a Horde soldier or findin' out where some mark is just so someone else can kill them; you remember that what you do, will hurt someone else, and that pain will spread and change until it comes right back to you. And don't think for one moment, don't you dare think that there aren't people other than me and your mother who care about you now. I don't care who they are, and I sure as hell don't give a damn if you don't like their company or where they come from, or what their social status is." He ceased the forehead poking and resumed shaking his finger at Cameron, who was now rolling his eyes in disgust. Rictor reached through the bars again to turn Cameron's face and attention back at him.    "Dad. I don't want anything to do with Nobles, or Stormwind, or the Alliance or their...war." Cameron protested with a heavy huff, pushing the memories of Undercity out of his mind as quickly as possible.        "I know. And I don't blame you. But our issues lie with a dead King. Look, I'm not tellin' you to throw out everythin' red that you own. And I'm not tellin' you to forget everythin' that happened. Hell no!" He scoffed, shaking his head. He pulled his hand away and pointed at Cameron for the third time. "But you need to be damn careful about who you hurt. Be it someone above or below you."    Chhk. Cameron stuck the shovel in the dirt, having finally finished his grim task. His mother, Isabelle, grasped his shoulder gently as the three of them stared at the graves of the rest of the family.  No time for words, no time for flowers, they went back into their home to discover they now had no time to escape. Maybe if the guards had been a little bit slower, or maybe if the house had been a little bit further off the road, they could have gotten away. Maybe the hidden tunnel in the basement could have saved them, a genuine lifeline to live in relative freedom another day. But there was no time to even fantasize that. Despite having her own face slapped into the wooden floor, Cam's mother started screeching and swearing when the guards dared to shove her only child onto the wood.   "He isn't even a TEENAGER you motherless sons of ogres!"  She squirmed as her arms were pinned behind her back. "Didn't know the DAMN ALLIANCE, threw CHILDREN IN THE STOCKADES. You put ANDUIN in there too when he misbehaves!?"  Cam was too scared to remember what his Dad was trying to say. Too frightened to remember anything but the pounding headache and the thumping of his heart in his chest. The guards looked at each other, and to their superior. They had their orders, but she was right.    "So. Don't hurt people, and somehow, also don't stop being Defias. Is what I'm hearing. Basically." Cameron rolled his eyes and started to glance up at the ceiling.  "That makes absolutely no sense." His Dad snapped his fingers in his Son's face to bring his attention back.       "The King and the Nobles hurt us. We got angry at him. and Queen Tiffin died instead. Did that solve our problem?"        "No."      "Exactly. And what I'm sayin' is. If you got a friend, who's a guard, or a Noble. Who likes you. Sees you as a friend, and you'd like them otherwise if it weren't for their job or status. All I'm sayin is. Don't stab them in the back for the Brotherhood, Cam. Doesn't matter if you think they're not important. It'll come back to screw you over.  Defend yourself, stand up for yourself. And I get it,  y' gonna get orders that you won't like and will make you feel like everythin' I just said was a waste or hypocritical or somethin'. Whatever. Just be smart about it. Don't kill anyone you don't have to." 

   Cam was lifted from the floor and plopped in a chair at the kitchen table. An object that was once the center of a loving family freely eating their meals together was now an impromptu cage. The old, tired captain knelt in front of Cameron, looking up at the boy wearily.       "Kid. Do you consider yourself Defias?"Rictor shut his eyes, praying Cam would be smart and say no.        "YES."His heart sank, but Rictor knew if he spoke out, nothing he said would help or change the situation. The captain sighed as he rubbed his forehead, taking a moment to pinch the bridge of his nose. He tried to not think of his own kids back in Stormwind who were roughly the same age as the one who defiantly sat before him.          "Have you actually done anything, for the Defias? Steal anything? Kill anyone?"Cameron thought about the magic casters. He thought about how the mages could light their targets on fire. Maybe he could do the same thing. Perhaps he could light all the guards on fire, and they could escape. Maybe, if he understood how it worked... 

     Cameron fought back the tears as some memories refused to stay quiet.        "It's not fair. They said they'd let you out if...and they still haven't....and." His Dad waved a hand dismissively with a grunt.          "The Brotherhood might not be seen as much of a threat any more Cam. But that doesn't mean there aren't still people who hate us. Either this is the pain we caused coming right back on us, or somebody with pull doesn't want you out of the SI:7."     "I'm a terrible agent, I don't know why they'd keep me around. I just mess up constantly. I can't even do most of the stuff other rogues do. I can't even use that shadow dance magic dance thing. I can't stealth without a device. I've seen others better than me get kicked out for not being good enough. Why the hell, would they keep you in here, just to keep me with them." He rubbed his eyes, frustrated and embarrassed at his inability to use real magic.  His Dad exhaled slowly with a quiet shake of his head, he had no answers for his son, and he wished desperately he did. Isabelle had quietly crawled over, grasping the bars with her frail fingers and pushed her face right up against the metal. Her eyes were wide as she stared Cameron down.        "Knowledge is just as valuable as skill. Baby bird, do y'know somethin' most others don't? Is it somethin' that you're not telling them?"      A lot of answers played through Cam's mind. A lot of memories presented themselves as possibilities. But two stuck out in his mind the strongest, although he had no idea if they were the correct memories to focus on.    Cameron thought about the Captain asking questions about the Defias at the dinner table.          "Do you know the names of other members? Do you know of any hiding places we don't know of? C'mon kid. I'd rather see you go to a Stormwind Orphanage than the Stocks. Don't let the crimes of your parents ruin the rest of your life."        "You're already here." Cameron glared up at the man. "You already have my parents in chains, you already killed the rest of my family. You already ruined the rest of my life. I'm never forgivin' you for this."         Cam thought about the Death Knight who used to be his best friend.        "You tell anyone. Anyone. About me and what you just found. Your life is not only forfeit, but I will raise you as a mindless ghoul for the Scourge. Have I made myself clear?" His fingers dug into Cameron's neck, who nodded frantically, properly scared for his life for the first time. "You're going to go back, to the SI:7, and you're going to tell them that it was a false lead. Just a rumor put in place by jealous competitors who had the money to make it look convincing."        "Th...That doesn't mean they'll stop sending me to Northrend."Gilzo smiled very sweetly, fluttering his eyes as he took a moment to use his free hand to flip his hair.         "Then you better pray that if they do. I don't hear about it. You only go to Northrend if you're doing something for me. Any other time, and it's you begging to be killed. Which I'd really rather not do, Cammie. So don't test me. Please. For your sake and mine, don't test me." Cam shrugged, shaking his head.         "No. I haven't dug up any deep secrets. " His mother stared at him in silence, fully aware that her son was lying to her but unable to fully figure out the truth. She leaned forward to give him a dry peck on his cheek before slipping back to her spot on the wall.          "I can tell when somebody's protectin' somebody else. They better be worth protectin."    His Dad looked up at him curiously as Cam tried to find the right words. He started thinking about a lot of people. A lot more people than he wanted to think about. A pain grasped Cameron's chest as he realized that despite earlier silence implying that he had no friends to spend his birthday with, despite his constant denial every visit that there wasn't anyone or anything he cared about other than his parents; Cameron started to think of a lot of people he did, actually, give a damn about. He had broken his own rule of not getting attached to anyone. Not just once, or twice, no. He'd gotten a bit carried away, not realizing how attached he had gotten to not just Gilzo, but to Mary. Haleth, Frena. Barnabe. Raam.  He even thought Morgen, Moz, and Lauree were fun although he'd never admit to that last one even if his life depended on it. He didn't want to think about everyone in the Stormwind Guard who never asked for his Agent name and opted to call him Greenie whenever they saw him. And of course, Morrowgrove, who started that trend and whom he accidentally referred to as "Cat-mom" once in front of Gilzo.  He thought of a lot of things. Eventually thinking about the promise he made Gilzo again. It wasn't the worst of his secrets, but it certainly ate away at him but...    "I...I can't." At one point, he would have utterly betrayed his promise the first chance he could do it safely. But by the time that opportunity arrived, he'd notice that there was a drastic change in the Death Knight as he slowly reconnected with his family. Cameron grasped the bars and thunked his head against them.    "I can't. Break up another family. That's finally pulling itself together." He closed his eyes, waiting to be chastised. Instead, his mother called out sweetly.    "Honey, that's nothin' worth bein' ashamed over. And if you think the SI:7 or the guard will fuck somethin' good up just for the sake of fuckin' it up don't you tell them a damn thing." But not telling the guard also risked hurting the ones in there that he liked. There was no guarantee they'd be understanding and not do anything about it.  His mind started to race about how badly things could go after that, unsure what daydreams were plausible and what were just paranoid delusions.      Cameron now sat across from the Captain in his office back in Stormwind.    "Kid. This is what I can do for you. Your parents are going to the stocks. Nothing's changing about that. But listen. We'll set bail, we know no one will pay it, but you'll be someone's ward where you can grow up in a lovely house and get a proper education. When you're old enough you can yourself trained up, give your skills to the SI:7, earn some money, you can pay it off that way. Or you can join them in the stocks and spend the rest of your childhood there. " Cam thought about it. He wanted to say no.  But maybe one day, maybe...if he was in the SI:7 if the Defias ever got another chance.....he could help.    "Fine."       The rare sound of footsteps quickly snapped Cameron out of his memories. He needed to leave. A silent goodbye as he pulled his hood up over his face and he was gone before the guards walked by.         "Evenin' Trafton's."         "Howdy."         "Wish I was coming by to say I can finally let you out, but I'm just passing through."         "Ha. Yeah. Maybe tomorrow."         "Yeah. Maybe tomorrow."

[unabashedrebel]

Prison Break

The dark dank chasms of Stormwinds own prison were a cold affair. The smell alone was enough to force more than a few guards to hastily switch their shifts. Shouts and screams often echoed through the poorly lit stone brick walls. Races from all walks of Azeroth professed their innocence, hollered about their unfair treatment, or spouted insanities borne of their solitude.

But one voice yelled just a little louder. A metal cup had banged against iron bars for the better part of an hour. “I dont belong here!” The human pleaded. “They’re going to escape!” Was another of the popular phases. “Please! Someone! Just hear me out!”

The man had made so much noise that even his neighbors started to berate him, “Shut the fuck up! I’m trying to sleep!” The cell overs occupant added. “You think you’re the only one who’s in here for some bullshit?” Another added. “Yeah I’m with the first guy! Shut the fuck up!” A distinctly Kezan voice added.

Finally the warm glow of a torch flame crept down the darkened halls. The pace quickening as the commotion continued, “Oy! You all keep it down or I’ll bring the mages in here to shut you up.” The guard barked. Halting the noise from all cells but one.

Loudly the clanking of metal on metal continued, “Please sir! Please just hear me out!”

The guard dressed in Stormwind regalia stopped in front of the cell with a labored sigh. “I hear this twelve times a week. I promise you whatever you have to s---.” The guard stopped in his tracks as his eyes went wide at the revelation, “Jenkins?!” The very guard he was coming to relieve.

Out in the quiet streets of Stormwind as the night began to descend on the Alliance capital a tall male in ill fitting armor of the guard strolled with an orcish prisoner in tow. Chains wrapped around the captive at both his ankles and wrists, leaving him just enough room to shuffle behind.

“So… something has been bugging me about this.” The Orc said in a low tone. “If you could have pulled this off why wait so long?”

An elvish voice replied, “Tell you what man. We live through tonight and I’ll tell you all about it.” Kirollis whispered. “So just, you know, act natural. And stop talkin’ to me like you’re bud, I’m a guard remember?”

The Orc gave a slow and subtle nod. His saviors words rung true in his mind, so deep into enemy territory that the slightest slip would undoubtedly earn them an execution rather then an extended stay in the Stockades.

“Get movin’ ya filthy green skin!” Kirollis boomed in his best Common accent as the pair passed through the archways leading to the docks. Shoving his companion forward in the process. A show for the soldiers stationed at the entranceways, who seemed to only laugh at the Orc’s misfortune.

Once cleared the rogue would confess, “Sorry. Appearances and all that.”

Grunting the captive would reply, “You enjoyed that.”

“Maybe a little.”

Suddenly the booming clangs of the great bell situated above the Stockades began ringing insistently. While Kirollis had assumed his charade would only last so long, it was still a little sooner then he would have hoped. Regardless, most soldiers moving to assist would at the very least assume it was an escape currently happening- rather then one already far in its progress.

“Oookay, let’s uh… lets walk just a little faster.” Kirollis muttered as they picked up the pace down the long ramps leading to the harbor. Time was certainly against them, and with no way to know the shipping manifests? They’re was blind, a leap of faith.

The Orc let out a gruff grunt as the shackles around his ankles jingled against strain as his strong legs struggled against their confinements. “I would be if you hadn’t insisted on these chains. You should have handed me an axe!” He growled, luckily away from anyone who may notice.

Kirollis shoved the Orc in response, “You know I could have left you in that cell right?” The revelation only producing a grumble from his ‘prisoner’.

Though both of them straightened up as a platoon of Stormwinds finest rushed passed them on the ramp. Most passing save for one towards the end. Stopping near the pair he would greet them with a wave, “You there, soldier. Where are you taking that prisoner?”

Kirollis froze a moment, haunching himself over to hide his height and shroud his eyes beneath the overbearing helm. Clearing his throat, “Oy, this one goes to the labor camps out in Arathi. I t’ink they lobotomized him or something. He’s a tad slow.”

The human laughed as he looked over the Orc. “I thought they came like that just stock.”

“Aye, I suppose. Ya should check the Stockades though. Some commotion goin’ on about there.” Kirollis added with a swift nod of his head. Silently hoping the man would take his advice rather then probe him further. “We got ah boat tah catch. And i’m ‘fraid they ain’t gonn wait.”

With another stern nod the soldier offered his blessing, “Carry on.”

Once they were out of earshot the Orc let out an undignified grunt, “Really?”

“I had to sell it dude. You know how humans are. Always think they’re superior and the rest of us are idiots. Maybe just take a little pride in the fact you got one over on him. He can think what he wants, but at the end of the day he’s the dumbass that let us go.”

“Mmm…” The Orc remained silent, content to take the win on that front. Though a moment later he posed, “How do you plan to fake the transfer papers?”

“I’ve got it covered.” Kirollis mentioned as they approached the dock, and their exit. Placing a hand on the Orc’s shoulder he would attempt to pull him into a cloaking spell. But instead of disappearing from sight they remained. “Uhm…” The rogue cleared his throat before gripping a little harder

“Uhm?!” The Orc tipped his gaze over his shoulder toward the rogue. “I thought you had this covered.”

“I haven’t done this in a while okay?! Maybe I have performance anxiety.” Kirollis tried to rationalize. Far be it from him to pick this time and place to educate the Orc on how the relationship between Sin’dorei and mana worked.

“Do you have a plan B? We have company.”

“Plan B was shouting that you escaped and trying to slip away in the commotion.”

“I hate you.” The Orc stated in a spiteful whisper.

“Yeah yeah, just follow my lead. I got us this far didn’t I?”

Two guards approached from the wooden docks, leaving their post from the boarding plank of an Alliance transport ship. “Hold there.” One said before holding up a hand in a stopping gesture. “Do you have papers for that prisoner?”

“Yes, I definitely do.” Kirollis stated in an airy tone as he stepped around the Orcs right side. Shiftily positioning himself at the flank of both soldiers, until their back was against the waters below.

“I had em right here… hold on.” The rogue said as he shifted around against the blue tabard of Stormwind. It was all a ruse, however, as Kirollis quickly barrelled into the soldiers, knocking one into the other and finally into the water itself with a loud splash. Their metal armor surely would be their downfall in such a situation. All he would have to do is hope nobody noticed the missing guard. Looking over his shoulder he would casually mention to his new friend, “Get on the ship.”

With a gauff the Orc would reply, “You’re really starting to sound like a guard.” Though a chuckle escaped him, impressed with Kirollis’ ploy.

As soon as they were both on board the rogue quickly shouted, “Make ready for sail! Commanders orders, we’re to leave right away!” That commanding tone of his on full display. With a plated boot he would shove the gangplank back to the docks.

“Ya heard the man, make ready to sail!” The first mate of ship shouted as the rest of the crew fell into line.

The Orc leaned forward to whisper, “You know they’ll kill us as soon as they find out right?”

“Yep. Don’t worry about it, I’m pretty good at shooting down birds. And I got a plan before we make it to port.”

A trusting nod was given from the Orc as the two made their way below deck.

[lichlover]

If you’re taking prompts I’d love to know what you think would happen if one of the 100 worlds the seven birds went to was earth. Like how many milliseconds would it take lup and taako to get arrested/what would happen with magic/etc.

okay, so, admittedly i misread this, but it was already turning out in a super fun way so i just decided to run with it. have a little something from post-canon!

please consider donating to my ko-fi!

On the third ring, Joaquin has to step out of his math class, because whoever’s calling him is calling instead of texting and that means it’s serious.

All eyes are on him as he whispers an apology to his teacher and steps out into the hallway. He’s sure it’s not just because of the call; having magic powers tends to make him a target for people’s stares, nowadays. Unfortunately it doesn’t seem to have gotten him much else. An exemption from math class, for example.

The door swings mercifully shut behind him, and Joaquin presses the phone to his ear. “Uh, hi, whoever this is?” he whispers, because one of the hall monitors is a few doors down and eyeing him suspiciously. “This isn’t a good time.”

“Hey, kid! Am I on the right frequency?”

Joaquin freezes and cranks up the volume. “Uh, sorry… is this—”

“Taako,” the voice on the other end drawls. “Y’know, from TV? And also the end of the world, keep fuckin’ forgetting about that one. Uh… listen. I’ve got a bit of a—uh, we have a bit of a situation here, and—”

“Whoa, just—hold on a sec.” The hall monitor is definitely staring now. “Where is here? Where are you? How did you even get my number?”

“World savior privileges. So the thing is—”

Joaquin blinks. “Oh my God, are you… are you here in this world? Like, actually here?”

He can practically hear Taako’s shrug through the phone. “Near as I can tell.”

“Oh my God,” Joaquin repeats. He’s starting to feel a little faint, and he’s sure it’s not because of his late lunch period. “What are you doing here? I thought that was against the—the rules, or whatever? Are you gonna get arrested by the dimension police? Oh, shit—” He breaks off when the hall monitor’s glare intensifies, and continues in a lower voice. “Am I gonna get arrested by the dimension police?”

“Probably not. Uh, speaking of which! They told me we only get one phone call, so we really—we really gotta make this one count here—”

“One phone call? Oh, holy shit, did you get arrested?”

From a few meters away, he sees the hall monitor unclip a walkie-talkie from her belt. Why his school has to go so hard with hall monitors, Joaquin will never understand, but he has a feeling his time is almost up. “Okay, okay, just—how did you—no, nevermind, that doesn’t matter. Where are you?”

“Uh…” Taako’s voice jumps a good octave. The receiver crackles, and Joaquin can hear a muffled question, followed by a brief, snappish argument. “This fuckin’ guy, I swear to gods—uh, the Miami Beach police station? Whatever the hell that means. They got better room service in the Eternal Stockade, and that’s—that’s sayin’ something.”

“Miami Beach police station,” Joaquin repeats. “Okay, I’m on my way. Just hang in there, and, uh, don’t do anything stupid, I guess?”

A scoff fizzles through the phone. “You don’t halfta tell me twice.”

“Yes, you do!” comes another, more distant voice. One Joaquin recognizes.

“Is that Lup?” he says, and now his voice is about to jump another octave, too. “She’s there with you?”

“Yeah, she’s—hey, Fantasy Terminator, I’ll tell ya when my time is up, alright? Listen, kid, bring a taco or two with you, alright? It’ll be ironic, and also, I’m fuckin’ starving. Cool. Thanks. Bye!”

“Um, okay, I will. But—” The connection goes dead, which Joaquin will admit he should have seen coming. He shoves his phone in his pocket and flags down the hall monitor, who has the walkie-talkie in her hand and looks about ready to bring out the big guns. “Hey, hey, uh,” he says, trying not to think about how her walkie might be as intimidating as the Hunger itself. “I—um, I’m sorry to disturb the peace and, uh, all that, but I really gotta go.”

The hall monitor walks him down to the counselor’s office, and when the counselor asks him what’s wrong, his brain barrels past “family emergency” and goes straight to “world savior stuff,” verbatim.

It turns out to be the better idea, anyway. Not ten minutes later, Joaquin is standing at a bus stop with the scrapings of a fare in his hand.

It’s strange to be downtown in the middle of the day. He stops by a locally owned Mexican place, feeling guilty all the way, and picks up two tacos with all the embellishments because he had said he would. The police station is a short walk from there. Joaquin recognizes a couple of the officers from their off-duty stops at the taco truck, and they wave at him as he hurries past, but he’s a little too frazzled to offer them anything but a weak smile in return. This isn’t the way he’d supposed he would spend his Tuesday. Granted, his weekdays are a bit unpredictable now, what with the impromptu interviews and the press showing up unannounced to his actual, literal house, but still. This is a lot different.

This is interdimensional.

And yes, it’s a bad and completely baffling situation, but Joaquin can’t help but feel a tiny thrill at the thought. His problems are interdimensional now. How many high schoolers can say that?

He promptly forgets about the cool factor of his morning when the main floor comes into view. There are several desks and a few annoyed-looking detectives between them, but that doesn’t stop Joaquin’s gaze from instantly snapping to the two lounging figures in the holding cell.

“Holy shit,” he says. It’s a perfectly fair thing to say.

From behind bars, Taako, from TV and the end of the world, lifts a lazy finger in greeting. “Took you long enough, huh?”

A bright red jacket hits him in the shoulder. “Don’t be fucking rude,” says Lup, and waves. “ ’Sup, kiddo?”

It occurs to Joaquin just then that he can never, ever tell his friends about this, because if they find out he’s met two of the Seven Birds in person, he can forget about his world savior glory forever. “Uh… I’m good,” he calls, doing his best to ignore the outright stares he’s receiving from the personnel in the room. “All good over here! Yeah.”

One of the detectives comes around her desk and shoots a dubious look at the holding cell. “You called Joaquin Terrero?”

“Is that his full name?” says Taako. Lup’s jacket nails him in the arm again and he tries to snatch it out of her hands, to no avail.

The detective sighs and turns to Joaquin with something suspended between an apologetic smile and an all-out grimace. “They’ve been like that ever since we brought them in. Um, Mr. Terrero—”

“Joaquin is fine.” Ever since Story and Song, he’s been called Mr. Terrero or sir just about everywhere he goes. Weirdness aside, it makes Joaquin feel like he’s always at a parent-teacher conference. “So what, uh… what happened?”

Detective Alvarez, according to her name tag, motions for him to sit down. He does, and she takes a seat across from him, still eyeing the holding cell as Taako and Lup bicker. “There were a few misdemeanors,” she says.

Misdemeanor means not serious. Joaquin silently thanks his social studies teacher.

“The thing is,” the detective continues, “these misdemeanors weren’t standard. I mean—” She sighs. “For one, they just appeared in the middle of a busy street and scared several pedestrians half to death. They said it was thanks to those belts.”

Only then does Joaquin notice the belts. He’d lumped it in with the rest of the twins’ eccentric style, but there they are, silvery and slim and otherwise pretty innocuous. “And that’s how they got here?”

“It’s science, babe,” Lup interjects. “We got it under control.”

She hooks a thumb over her belt with a conspicuous wink, and Detective Alvarez turns pink and clears her throat. “Of course,” she says, hurriedly. “That’s just not the point.”

There’s a look of extreme discomfort on her face, and Joaquin doesn’t blame her. It had been enough of an ordeal getting a call from one of the Seven Birds, nevermind keeping two of them in a holding cell. (There’s a joke there about birds and cages that he’ll have to remember for later.) “Then they went to a restaurant and tried to pay for their food with… well, this.”

Detective Alvarez opens a drawer, and Joaquin’s eyes go wide at the sight of several large, priceless-looking gems in an evidence bag. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out, save for an awkward-sounding croak. He’d known Taako was rich—not rich.

Speaking of which. From across the room, Taako cups a hand around his mouth and calls out. “Those the jewels? They’re my husband’s paycheck, for gods’ sake! Are you gonna—are you tryin’ to tell me Death isn’t legit?”

The look on Detective Alvarez’s face seems to imply they’ve had this conversation before. “You can’t pay for food with giant jewels.”

“You can if you’re not a fuckin’ coward,” Taako murmurs, and slouches back against the wall. He takes another jacket to the chest for that.

Joaquin takes a deep breath. “Okay. Uh, Detective Alvarez, I’m really sorry that these two caused a disturbance.”

“Listen, these aren’t—the misdemeanors aren’t serious. We won’t hold them, and we won’t fine them—I mean, they’re the Birds,” says Detective Alvarez. “It wouldn’t be great for the universe anyway. The precinct just wanted to make sure they have someone here who can…” She lowers her voice. “You know, keep an eye on them?”

“They’re not super great at being on Earth, huh?”

“No. Definitely not.”

“I’ll take care of them,” Joaquin promises. “I’m really sorry, Detective.”

Detective Alvarez offers up a weary smile. “You’re a good kid. Just get them out of here, okay?”

“I will,” says Joaquin.

He does.

They emerge into a bright, warm afternoon, and Taako hisses, yanking a pair of sunglasses over his eyes. “Sheesh. How long’s it been? A year?”

“An hour,” says Lup, checking her watch.

“Oh.” He plucks one of the tacos from the bag in Joaquin’s hand. “Cheers, kid. Not as good as mine, but it—it’ll do, I guess.”

“Thanks for bailing us out.” Lup nudges Joaquin and flashes a brilliant smile. She’s definitely more intimidating in person, and also a full head taller than him, which means he has to crane his neck and squint to see her against the sun. “So, you’re taking us on a tour, right?”

Joaquin blinks. “I—uh, I have school.”

Taako snorts, which, yeah, he deserves that. “That’s gotta be the lamest excuse I’ve ever heard.”

“Lame,” Lup chimes in. She picks the other taco out of the bag and says, “Give us the grand tour, kid! We’re only here for… uh, two more hours, looks like. Gotta make the most of our time before we head back home.”

“Oh, yeah, that—you never said what you were doing here?”

“Visiting you, duh,” she says. “Taako wouldn’t shut up about how he realized your potential, and—”

“Yeah, speaking of shutting up!” says Taako, his voice shrill. He takes an unceremonious bite of the taco and tugs the brim of his hat a little lower. “You gonna show us around, or what?”

“That’s not speaking of shutting up, ’Ko.”

“Don’t—you don’t get to lecture me on semantics—”

Joaquin bites back a smile and says, “You guys wanna see the beach?”

“Hell yeah,” they say as one, and high-five without having to look. Drift compatible, Joaquin thinks. It really is a perfect day, and a little magical—not in the actual sense, of course, but there’s something thrilling about knowing school will drag on without him. He’s got some world savior stuff to do; if showing around two of the Seven Birds counts as world savior stuff, of course, and he’s decided that it does.

Of course, that doesn’t mean there won’t be consequences to his actions. But Joaquin’s pretty smart, and he’s already thought of a contingency plan.

“Um, hey, so,” he starts, as they set off down the street. “Lup, uh—I’ve got this friend, Stephanie, and she would kill me if I didn’t get an autograph, or something… do you have, uh, a headshot or something like that? Like, she’s been dying to know if you still have an undercut…”

[ironbound-praetorium]

A Place to Start Over

Tirisfal still smelled like blight and ash even days after the Horde and Alliance clashed at the gates of Lordaeron, but it didn’t deter any member of the Praetorium from venturing out in the hopes of finding those left behind to ruin. Raelin Dawnsorrow, above all of them, had stood at first hand witness to the atrocities committed under red and blue banner. As days bled into one another , he raced across the tree line in an endless grid pattern ferrying civilians back to the trio of ships that hovered over the landscape.  Only when he was commanded to sleep did he fall into his rack and nightmares about those he hadn’t been able to reach in time.

 The Ironfist had a soft heart, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it was directly centered on the children of the world, as he hardly thought it was fair they had to deal with adult concept like war and unnecessary death.  It was a direct result of his own tragic past with regards to his younger siblings whose ashes now lay peacefully in the Dawnsorrow mausoleum. Those losses had driven him near to madness, but purpose had been found in knowing he could stop others from suffering the same fate… if only he was strong and fast enough.

 Thankfully, Raelin had an ace up his sleeve when it came to the speed necessary to grid out Tirisfal and search block by imaginary block for those left in the wake of the war machine. Dalis, the Ironbound protodrake had been encountered in Ulduar when the world’s heroes sought the release of the Titan stronghold from the grip of the Old Gods, but it had been fate which brought the two together.  They’d weathered a hundred battles together since that day, and not once had their trust wavered, even when words between them were entirely absent.

 It was that trust that kept Raelin steady as Dalis veered hard to the right and made a beeline for a outcropping of trees along the eastern border of Tirisfal.  Shifting his weight, the ginger elf laid flat against the drakes back as the air rushed over him and bright blue eyes scanned the ground for whatever target they were after. It could have been up to three miles away knowing how keen draconic eyesight was, but the pungent smell of decay and smoke signaled they were far closer.  

 Their target was seen as the drake maneuvered to a clearing a short distance away, landing with a thud that shook the ground and caused loose and burning limbs to fall. Dalis wasn’t even fully settled to his haunches before Raelin was off his back and striding for the burned out remnants, his loud voice sure and strong as he announced his arrival; a necessity given the volatile climate he was current in.

“I’m here to help! Hello? Anyone here?”

 Long strides carried him up the broken stone path, though the moment he reached the door long ears flicked in response to the sudden knowledge that he wasn’t alone. Raelin knew better than to make any sudden moves, as war gave way to paranoia for many, and he rather liked his head attached to his body.

 “Just here looking for civilians that need help…Silver Hand…promise I’m not here to cause any ha- oh shit…” Turning around slowly as he spoke, the Ironfist’s eyes went wide as his ‘company’ was viewed clearly.

Five childlike figures clad in mud streaked rags formed a half circle around the Ironfist as the scent of ichor stung his nose.  Undeath had not been kind to any of them, as protruding bones and missing parts came more clearly into view. Ligaments and sinew hung limply from one’s arm where clearly an axe had tried to lop off the offending limb, while another’s cheeks were stained black from the dangling eye that clung only by a bundle of nerves. Their injuries were substantial, yet not one of them seemed to register the pain, as no doubt the shock of everything they had seen had muddled their minds to the most base of responses.

 “Hey there…” Raelin began, slowly beginning to crouch down in order to not tower over the diminutive figures. “M’dragon over there seemed to think you guys needed some help, yeah?” His voice, while usually littered with vulgarity became soft and quiet as he offered a hand outward. “M’name’s Raelin...”

 The smallest of them, a little girl who couldn’t have been anymore than 6 when she rose as a Forsaken, began to take a step forward as if she would accept Raelin at his word but was blocked by the lanky boy who stepped in front of her in a protective way. His spindly fingers curled against his tattered pants as hollow eyes stared down the large man while the others seemed more fixated on Dalis, who had intentionally gone very still as to not frighten the poor creatures.

 “Your eyes are blue…” the ‘leader’ said, his raspy voice cracking as if he was perpetually stuck in the throes of puberty.

 “Mmm, they are...but not here under the Alliance banner, see?” Moving cautiously, the Ironfist shifted upwards to tug on the Silver Hand tabard that was displayed over his chest, tapping one finger against the closed fist. “I don’t much like red and blue, always preferred yellow… like in sunflowers? My Ma used to grow them in our gardens back in Eversong when I was younger…”

 Skeptical to be sure, the boy took a step forward to inspect the tabard with a narrowed gaze while the small girl’s voice piped up in garbled tones. “I like flowers...”

“Yeah? My favorites are blue roses…” Raelin offered, casually glancing to the others who remained wary of him as he reached to flip up the edge of his tabard where the aforementioned flower was embroidered.

The tension in the air was palatable, as it always seemed to be when dealing with the Forsaken, as they were not at all inclined towards dealing with the living. Drawing in a deep breath, his forearms settled on his knees as he looked between them all with a faint smile cast across his rugged features. “How about you let me take a look at all your hurts, and then we see about getting you to a safe place, hrm?”

 “We’re not fucking children, you idiot!” Taken back by the temper that came out of nowhere, Raelin’s eyes shifted back to the leader with both brows raised in response.  It hadn’t dawned on him until that moment that they’d been stuck in this perpetual state of youth for gods knew how long and that he’d gone about the whole situation in entirely the wrong way.

 Lifting his hands again, a helpless shrug was given with a crooked grin. “Oh, well good… means I don’t gotta watch my fucking mouth. Guess you’re just going to have to forgive this big dumb elf for making that mistake and let me make it up to ya, yeah?”

“And how th’fuck is some Quel’dorei bastard going to do that, hrm? Drag us off and put us in chains to be held at the mercy of the Boy-King?” countered the leader of the small group as steps were taken closer to the elf in defense of his companions. “No-fucking-way that shit is happening. We didn’t want no war t’begin with!”

“Actually, was kinda thinking we’d go take a little ride on my dragon to a big shiny ship in the sky… get ya injuries seen to and a hot meal? I mean… if chains are your thing, good on ya… but not exactly too pleased with ol’Anduin and his puppet master Greymane at the moment, so...” Raelin kept his tone nonchalant as he moved to lean against what remained of the house, again holding his hands out to the small contingent.

“Fuck that flea-ridden asshole, deserves to be skinned and mounted!”

“Well…I can’t argue with that…” Raelin laughed which seemed to ease the group from the precipice of violence.  “However, none of us are getting away with that anytime soon… so, how about we make sure we get to see that day come and raise an ale to the ol’bastards death? “

“Where will we go?” questioned the ‘little girl’ as she moved closer to Raelin, reaching to flip up the edge of his tabard and trace the rose stitched neatly into the fabric.

“Most of your people I’ve been giving lifts to end up in Silvermoon…” the Ironfist stated, watching their displeased reactions scrunch up little noses and set their lips into grim lines.  “….but I mean if you’re really after getting away from the war, I know a pretty decent spot to start over…”

 “At what cost?” Another of the ‘children’ asked, stepping next to the girl to put a protective arm around her shoulders.

 “No cost… just have to want to live in peace and not play into the faction crap the world would have you believe is necessary…” Raelin said, shrugging his shoulders as he shifted to accommodate the curious inspection of his tabard.

 “How do we know you’re not feeding us a line of shit and plan to throw us in the Stockades?” It was a viable and logical question that, unfortunately, Raelin didn’t have an answer to.

 “You don’t…suppose it’s a leap of faith in that regard. Just going to have to trust this big stupid elf if you want to get the fuck outta here and away from the bullshit going on. Question is…. Do you really want to?” Shared looks and silent understanding brought all five to nod their heads as Raelin crouched down to look eye to eye with the small girl and offered the crook of his arm as any gentleman might, causing a tittering of laughter to slip out in raspy tones.  “Shall we then, my lady?”

 One by one, the Ironfist lifted the injured and tattered Forsaken ‘children’ onto the back of the massive protodrake and gave them each a small loop of leather to hold onto. After climbing on himself, the Praetorium communication stone was pulled from his pocket as Dalis lifted into the air. “Commander, got an intake of five Forsaken on the way… give Bri a heads up for me?”

 “Bri’s on patrol with Cora…but I’ll let Tanner know to give the medbay a heads up” came Maladir’s tired voice as the small party raced across the skies towards the awaiting Sanctuary City ships and what was hopefully a decent and peaceful future for the refugees at the Ironfist’s back.

(( @sanctuary-city-wra @kelladen @silverfall-patriarch for mentions/involvement))

[jewishangus]

you are my sunshine (a.k.a the fix you’ve all been waiting for)

hello and welcome to your daily afternoon news, its eden “jewishangus” adventurezone from fantasy wikileaks, and boy do i have news for you!

remember @inkedinserendipity ? remember that hell fic she wrote a couple days ago? you know, the one without a fix? well, seren’s a dirty stinkin’ liar, and she wrote a fix. unfortunately, our girl seren couldn’t do one thing right and didn’t fucking finish it, so, as the sole recipient of this fix, i took it upon myself to write the 2.5k words i apparently needed to get the goddamn thing done. i have no idea whether it fit her original vision or not? but as far as im concerned, this is canon. how do i know?

that’s how i know. i’ve done it, kids. i’ve got your fix. itll be under the cut, along with some extra screenshots for photographic evidence. 

let’s hope i do this massive hit some justice, shall we?

so. here’s the news story:

seren told me about this hit a few days before she posted it. how? idk. im from fantasy wikileaks, i have my ways. (just kidding, all i did was sacrifice my nap to the sleep demons. they rewarded me with this wonderful hit we all love so much. never making a deal with those assholes ever again.)

but anyways, while she did that, i was very generously promised a fix - a fix she later gave to me once she published the hit - and here it is (if you can’t read the screenshot, the text will come later on):

as much as the later piece she sent was wonderful, i ended up going with the former, as you’ll later see.

immediately after, she said this:

(haha, seren, serves you right), and then i promptly went to sleep for the night. the next day, we debated fixes for a bit:

and i officially got the go-ahead, as well as some important information. the conversation, of course, escalated from there, no thanks to tess and her angst, but thats all irrelevant. 

you want this fix, don’t you? well, take it.

When Lup and Barry come back from the ten-year celebrations, there’s something different about Kravitz. Nothing they can pin down, just — he smiles less. Frowns less. Emotes less, in general. Barry remarks to Lup that it’s the most dead they’ve ever seen him.

They don’t put the pieces together until Lup realizes it’s been two months since Kravitz has asked after Taako. Before, he would ask every other week.

She hated it, those ten years. Every time he asked she would be forced to look him in the eye, knowing there was a part of him dedicated to her brother, a love he carried that he would never return, and tell him he meant nothing.

She asks, “Are you okay?”

Kravitz says, in this new way of his, flat and toneless, “Fine.”

“It’s just — you haven’t asked about Taako in a while.”

Kravitz cocks his head at her and asks, “Taako?”

“My brother,” she says, “your — ”

Beside her, Barry hisses a gasp between clenched teeth. Lup doesn’t realize she’s balled her hands into fists until her nails break skin.

“Well,” she bites, “your nothing, now.”

Lup awakes to a quiet chirp.

At first she thinks it’s a raven. It’s hardly uncommon for their Queen to send them missives, whether tied to the raven’s foot or pried from their beaks. But when she peers groggily toward the window she sees nothing.

Another chirp, by her chest. She looks forward and yelps to find a silvery mongoose, head cocked, nosing at her collarbone.

“What the fuck,” she whispers.

It perks up at the sound of her voice, butts at her chin. It’s not solid, and its brush against her skin doesn’t feel like fur but rather a whisper of rain, a deep chill. She shivers and sits up, cradling the mongoose in her two hands.

It looks up at her and chirps insistently.

“What are you?”

The mongoose bounds around her hands, spinning in circles as if chasing its own tail, before leaping from her cupped hands and onto Barry’s chest.

“No — ” she blurts, but it just butts up against Barry’s nose, pressing tiny paws against his lips.

“Lup?”

“It’s not me,” she says, handing him his glasses. There’s something...familiar about this, whatever it is. Something lost. Something just now found.

“What is that?”

“Don’t know.”

“It looks like....”

Barry looks at her. “It looks like a soul, Lup.”

“But not a complete one. It’s too tiny.” She picks it up again, studying it carefully. “Way too small.”

There’s silence for a moment as they both think. “Can I see it?”

“Sure.” Lup passes it off to him, and he cradles it carefully, smoothing back its fur.

“Lup,” Barry says, “this is Kravitz’s.”

It chirps excitedly at the name, paws skittering along Barry’s arm as it races to curl on his shoulder. A near-constant stream of chirring issues from the mongoose as it looks at Lup intently, brushing its tail against Barry’s jaw, intelligence bright in its keen eyes. Then it bounds off of Barry’s shoulder and in one fluid motion, scrambles out the door.

Lup’s already shrugging on her robe. Barry stumbles into proper footwear, dons his own, adjusts his glasses on his nose. They take each other’s hands as they leave.

They follow the mongoose out of the house, a little ways down the lane, before it disappears.

“Okay,” Barry says. “That — probably isn’t supposed to happen.”

It reappears just as quickly as it had vanished and chirps impatiently at them before disappearing again.

“I think it’s going to the Astral Plane,” Lup says, and manifests her scythe. She tears between the planes and steps through and, sure enough, on the other side waits the mongoose.

author’s note: that was seren’s bit, and here’s mine:

It keeps looking back at them as they follow it, scurrying across the Astral Plane’s beaches only to occasionally stop and turn its tiny head around and nod at them before continuing — it’s the first time, after all these years, that Barry doesn’t stop to take in the view of the sea in front of him — but, despite its worries, they follow it safely to a small door behind the stockade, where it stops one last time before chirping to them impatiently.

When Barry sees the door, his face goes beet-red. “How the fuck did you know this was here?” The mongoose chirps again, getting a laugh from Lup, and Barry stammers in an attempt to explain. “Like. This is Kravitz, right? It’s a part of Kravitz’s soul.”

“Yeah? What about it?” Lup prompts him to keep going mid-giggle.

“Lup, how does he know?”

“What, that you have a secret lab in the back of the stockade? Let’s face it, that’s a pretty open secret at this point.” She slips her hand in his pocket and pulls out the key, unlocking the door and watching the mongoose scurry in as Barry stands there in slightly over-exaggerated shock.

“But—I didn’t even tell—“

“Come on, Bear,” She drops a kiss on his cheek, causing him to blush further, before taking his hand as she steps forward, jolting him out of his (definitely fake) shock as she pulls him. “Krav won’t wait forever, won’t he?”

They follow the mongoose through the (very long, Lup complains every time) hallways that lead to Barry’s lab, passing by the old storage rooms full of broken necromantic artifacts and through the illusory wall that disguises the entrance to the lab itself; Lup laughs as the mongoose sniffs the magic around them and recoils at the stench, and Barry sighs as he taps his wand against the key, changing its form slightly, and holds the door open as the two enter. Barry can’t help but notice how the mongoose runs to his desk, pawing at the drawers as if trying to climb the thing, before glancing upward, noticing Lup staring at the very new, very unfamiliar thing that sits where he had cleaned a couple weeks before.

“Barry— is that— those are—“

“Lup, I swear I wasn’t the one who brought these—“

“Barold J. Bluejeans, I swear on the Raven Queen, if you had these in the lab this whole time and waited for the fuckin’ soul mongoose to let me know, I would have kicked your ass into the Soul Sea.” She breaks into almost a relieved, hysterical kind of laughter; one that in all these years, he can count the amount of times he had heard on one hand. “Taako’s soul shard is in there!!!”

“I know it is.” He smiles at her, and she smiles at him, still breathing through her laughter.

“We can find Taako’s soul piece, and put it back together, and—“

“I know—“

“We’ll make it right, babe.”

“Yeah, we will.” He walks towards his desk, spinning the mangled ball of soul shards around and listening to its mix of songs, Lup joining him in her chair next to him as they work to decipher what they’re seeing.

“Are we going to have to—“

“Sort through them all?” Barry finishes her sentence, like he usually does. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Song by song?”

He nodded. “Memory by memory, too.” His smile turns grim, at that. “It’ll take a long time.”

“Babe?”

“Yeah?”

“We have all the time in the fucking world.” She pauses, and Barry laughs, processing what she said before she did. “Ok not all the time, I get that Taako’s still mortal, but can you let me sound cool for once?”

Barry laughs again, and kisses his wife on the cheek before turning back to the chunk of souls in front of him. “You were the one who brought it up!”

“That doesn’t mean you have to make me notice it!” She protests, taking the tip of her scythe in her hand and sticking it gently into the mix of souls, watching its energy wrap gently around the blade. “So… If we shut up and close our eyes, we’ll both hear the soul’s song and watch its memory, right?”

Barry nods. “Well, you will, because your scythe’s in the thing.”

“And because it’s the piece that belongs to their soulmate, I’ll see memories of their soulmates. Meaning we know we’ve found Taako’s when—”

“When you see Kravitz, yeah.” Barry finishes her sentence again, and she thinks about it a bit before responding.

“Then you’ve gotta mark where one soul ends and another starts.” He raises an eyebrow at her, and she laughs before continuing. “I can’t see, right? So you guide my hand, and I tell you when the memories change, and then we’ll cut each soul shard and set it free.”

“Then?”

“Then I’ll tattle to our boss about you having a secret necromantic laboratory in the Eternal Stockade — we’ll just go and match every one of them to their original, duh.” Lup laughs. “There are at least 750 souls in here, that’s like….”

“Fantasy 37500 First Dates.” They both say that at the same time, and can’t help but laugh.

Lup closes her eyes, letting the first memory enter her head, as Barry interrupts with a “...I still actually like that movie.”

She peeks an eye open, her smile betraying her fake serious-ness. “Shut the fuck up and take my hand, Barold.”

He laughs. “You didn’t even have to ask.”

It takes the two reapers a lot longer to sort through each soul than they would like. They take turns looking at memories — the realization that everyone they’re looking at was faced with either a dead soulmate, or a soulmate that doesn’t remember them is a lot for one person to bear — and spend a long while carving out souls, knowing that if they mess up once, it’d be even harder to repair. Their first soul shard — their soulmate is a bard who wrote them stories that made them cry, once upon a time — took them a few days, but they eventually become quicker with practice, and one of the storage rooms next door becomes filled with animal friends and their hoard of assorted objects. It’s there that the two go whenever they feel the memories the hardest, or when Taako wonders aloud about how they seemed to stop loving him two years ago, about how they don’t spend any time with him anymore, about how they’re always “working,” and don’t say where or why or tell any stories.

And by the time they find Taako’s soul shard — it had been three years, long enough that they had long since stopped counting the months and the days and the hours — the room is full, vibrant, brimming with energy, and Lup walks in there to cry, the mongoose crawling into her lap as it recognizes the feather it had missed for so long.

“Hey, Barry?”

“Yeah?”

“Their anniversary’s coming up.”

“Since when did they have an anniversary?”

“Since they had a fuckin’ date at the Chug and Squeeze, nerd.” She laughs through her tears. “I thought I told you!”

He laughs, wiping the stray tears off of her face. “Do you want to fix their souls then?”

Lup smiles. “It’d be kinda poetic, wouldn’t it?”

Barry shrugs. “It’s been like 13 years, but sure.”

It’s quiet for a moment, besides the now bright and chirpy songs of the souls around them, and then Lup sniffs and wipes her eyes. “You’re going to have to convince Krav to give you his soul, y’know.”

He smiles softly. “That’s the easy part.”

“Ok, Mr. Confident.” She smiles back. “Good luck with that.”

He smirks. “Who said I needed luck?”

She laughs. “I can’t tell if you’re serious or not.”

“Last time I checked, I was Barry, so….”

“Shut the fuck up.” She pecks him on the cheek, then looks down at the now-sleeping soul mongoose in her lap, cuddling around the feather it missed for more than a decade. “It’s about time.”

It’s weird, Lup thinks, to be stealing her brother’s soul while he’s sleeping. He’s normally such a light sleeper, too, even with Lup’s Silence spell, but its almost as if Fate herself is blessing her with her luck that night, and she appreciates it all the more so as she sits on the floor by his bed and starts casting. It floats in place as she works, round, smooth and brimming with energy and heat and yet somehow missing the full extent of its glow, somehow broken and chapped like lips in the wintertime, yet she has to mold it into shape, coax it into a different form, to get the feather to fit in the soul it’s always belonged in. So she shapes it into the raven that’s been sitting at Taako’s windowsill, stretches it and expands it, the fibers that hold it together spinning to match their new form, and then fits the feather in its slot, welding it in with her magic, and the world seems to go still around her as she does; all that’s important to her, now, is this bird and its broken wing.

It takes her a couple hours of work, only stopping a few times to renew her silence spell, and eventually she shapes the bird back into the round, ordinary soul shape she’s familiarized herself with and places it gently onto Taako’s chest, letting it sink back into his body.

His soul is complete, the job is done…. Now, Lup thinks, they wait.

It’s when Lup and Taako are making dinner the next day, chopping vegetables for the spicy fish they’ve been meaning to try, that Taako brings it up again.

“Hey, Lulu?”

“Yeah?”

“Remember Kravitz?”

Lup smiles, trying to hold back the swell of emotions that bubbles in her chest as he says his name. “Kravitz like my boss?”

Taako blinks, pausing for a moment before turning to the food in front of him. “Wait — oh fuck, yeah, he’s your boss.” Taako laughs, and maybe Lup’s over-analyzing, but the laugh sounds almost heavy to her. “Well fuck, I can’t date him now—“

She changes her smile into a smirk. “Babe, if you wanted to date him, I should have set you up 10 years ago.” She can’t help but almost laugh, at that. “You can never say Barry and I are bad ever again.”

“Shut up! I just wasn’t that into him until now, okay?” Taako reaches into the spice cabinet, pulling out a few things before taking both the now-chopped vegetables and the spices to the deep-pan on the stove. “But I just remembered I tried to date him once. In the b-oh-b days. Fuck was that like? 13 years ago, today?”

Lup raises an eyebrow. “What happened, then?”

Taako shrugs. “Well, I did save the world. Got some good fuckin’ sex out of it, let me tell you.” He pops open the spicy paprika and sprinkles it into the broth before continuing. “But I guess I just? Forgot about him. Didn’t really want a guy I would settle down with or some shit.” He pauses, for a moment. “He’s still hot, though, right?”

Lup laughs, almost in surprise. “Taako, he’s dead, of course he’s still hot.”

“Well hit me the fuck up then!” He laughs along with her, and she picks up her Stone of Farspeech and starts to dial Kravitz’s frequency before Taako stops her with a “Hold on a fuckin’ sec, sis, you can’t just dial him right now while I’m in the room, I’m not that desperate.”

“Ok, well in that case….” She drops a kiss on Taako’s cheek, getting a groan from her brother. “I’ll be right back.”

“Taako?” Lup yells his name from the other room in the loud tone he’s grown so used to.

“Yeah?” He yells it back, though not nearly as loudly, hearing her footsteps approaching before she peeks her head through the doorway

“How does tomorrow night sound?”

He thinks about it, for a moment. “I’ve got no plans,” He says, shrugging, “But if I do they can wait.”

Lup smiles, breathing out a sigh of relief. “Hell yeah, I’ll let him know!”

Kravitz wakes up in the morning to the thought of Taako — oh fuck, why does he remember Taako, shit, it’s been three years that shouldn’t have happened he worked so hard — and the sound of Barry — it’s very obviously Barry, from his soft steps and the way his soul sings and the occasional clang of silverware falling on the floor — in his kitchenette, which, in hindsight, should probably explain everything and yet somehow doesn’t.

It’s only when he gets up and walks into his living room, seeing Barry eat breakfast at his table, and says “What brings you here?” and Barry responds with “Hot damn, that sleeping spell did a number on you,” that Kravitz remembers the dubious way he fell asleep the night before.

“Wait, that was you?”

Barry raises an eyebrow. “Who else would it be?”

Kravitz thinks about it for a moment, shrugs, and then said “But why?”

Barry shrugs in return. “It looked like you needed it.” He sips his coffee, letting Kravitz join him at the table, and then says “So how has your morning been?”

Kravitz looks at him suspiciously — he knows Barry’s been lying —  before deciding to play along. “I’ve been sleeping up until a few minutes ago, but it’s been alright,thank you.”

“Nothing special?” Barry presses him, and Kravitz sighs before dropping the act.

“Barry?”

“Yeah?”

“What did you do last night?”

“Nothing, I—“ He almost seems to blush, out of nervousness. “Fine, Lup and I just fixed both yours and Taako’s souls last night and we’re waiting to see if you remember each other, okay?”

Kravitz sighs. “Well, to ignore your blatant act of necromancy and answer your question, it worked.”

Barry scratches the back of his neck; it’s a nervous tick Kravitz is used to seeing, at this point. “Ok—but—I’m just glad you remember.”

Kravitz grimaces. “I didn’t want to.”

“I know.” Barry smiles, in that soft reassuring way he usually only sees when Lup’s around. “But this time, Taako remembers you, too.” He stands up, going to wash the mug he was using before calling back to Kravitz. “Hey Krav, do you want breakfast or something?”

Kravitz shakes his head. “I think I’ll pass, thanks.”

It’s only later, after Barry and Kravitz finish their first bounty of the day, that they get the call from Lup. She opens it up with a “Hey Krav, remember my brother?” and they can hear her satisfied smirk and the happy tears that she’s holding back behind it, hear the way her voice seems out of breath from excitement and the soft cushiony noise of her collapsing onto the couch, and Barry’s smile turns giddy and Kravitz starts to smile again, soft and relieved, as he says, “Did he finally decide he wants to date me?”

[azvolrien]

The Hawk Steppes - Chapter Eight

You get a twofer today - this one (which is a bit longer than the rest; I couldn’t find a good spot to break it up) and a short epilogue. Let’s ring out 2017 in style.

~~~

           Sunset brought a change of guard. The new Charek warrior bumped knuckles with the previous guard and sat down on a stool by one of the roof supports with his spear across his knees, watching the prisoners closely.

           “This guy looks much more alert than the last guard,” said Calburn, almost under his breath. “We might’ve slipped away once she’d fallen asleep. I don’t think this one’s going to.”

           “I can fix that,” said Rhona. “But we should wait until it’s full dark. You still remember your unlocking spells, right?” Calburn just gave her an offended look. “What am I saying, of course you do.”

           “Stop that muttering,” said the guard, rattling the blade of his spear against the cage bars. “Or I’ll shut you up myself.”

           Calburn’s expression suggested he had thought of several smart replies, but he refrained from voicing any of them as the last glow faded from the sky and the campfires were lit. The guard got up to light the small glass lantern above his head, keeping one eye on his prisoners, and sat down again. Another man brought him a steaming bowl of something, chatted for a few minutes, and went back to his tent.

           Rhona palmed a loose stone from the cage floor and flicked it at Roxy, who glared at her. Rhona held eye contact for a few moments, then jerked her head towards the lantern as subtly as she could. Roxy’s only reply was a small shrug of confusion.

           Snuff it out, mouthed Rhona. Roxy’s eyes widened slightly and a small smile, barely visible in the flickering shadows, appeared on her face. She grasped the cage bars and closed her eyes, searching for the energy of the tiny flame.

           As she snatched away its heat, it went out as quickly as if she had walked over and blown it out. The guard frowned and stood up to look at it.

           “My turn,” whispered Rhona, and reached out with her own powers, trembling with concentration. The guard yawned widely and rubbed one hand across his eyes, then sat back down. Rhona gritted her teeth, furrowing her brow, and the man finally slumped down where he sat, sound asleep and barely noticeable without the lantern above him.

           Calburn rocked forwards onto his knees and planted one hand flat against the cage lock. It clicked open immediately.

           “That was a neat trick,” said Athi once both she and Roxy were out of their own cages and all four of them had fled to the shadows behind a tent some distance from the stockade. “So that’s what a sleep spell looks like?”

           “More or less,” said Rhona. “They’re difficult to do right. Exert too much pressure and you risk dealing serious damage to the target’s brain.”

           “And that would bother us right now because…?” said Roxy. Calburn gave her a hard look. “Fine, never mind.”

           “You’ve been here the longest,” said Rhona, turning to Athi after a moment’s hesitation. “Where would they have put our weapons?”

           “There’s an armoury tent out near the forges,” said Athi. “I saw it when they made me take Longstride around the perimeter.”

           “We can’t leave Longstride with them either,” said Calburn. “My guess is they plan to use her like a war elephant? Sort of a battering ram and archer platform mixed together.” Athi nodded. “So unimaginative. They’d be better off using her to haul supplies if they want to turn this little warband into a proper army. An iron ox is a hybrid construct,” he added to Rhona and Roxy, “but it terms of how it relates to its riders, it’s more like a built one than a grown one. They can’t be made to obey a single commander, like Vrand and Mossy only listen to me. Athi’s the only person here who knows how to control Longstride, but she’s not the only person who can. If one of this lot,” he waved a hand to indicate the entire Charek camp, “works out how it’s done, rescuing Athi won’t put much of a crimp in their plans.”

           “He’s right,” said Athi. “They only have the one, but one’s still enough to do some damage before the Legions come down on them. We either need to take Longstride with us or…” Her breath caught in her throat. “Destroy her.”

           “Yeah, I’ve seen the iron ox,” said Roxy. “I don’t think any of us has the oomph to destroy her.”

           “Or at least, not so badly that they can’t work out how to fix her,” said Calburn.

           “So we take Longstride,” said Rhona. “We grab our weapons if we can.”

           “And we high-tail it out of here,” finished Athi. “Don’t suppose either of you know any invisibility spells?”

           “I don’t think those really exist,” said Calburn. “C’mon, you’re going to have to guide the rest of us here.”

           Athi nodded. “Longstride first,” she said. “This way.”

           The path from the stockade to the canvas-covered iron ox was slow and winding. The main thoroughfares through the camp were reasonably well-lit by lanterns and torches fixed to supports at even intervals, with few points where a fugitive could safely hide. Instead Athi led them through the dark, narrow spaces between and behind the tents, pausing in the deepest shadows whenever a Charek patrol – or just a wandering drunk – came too close. A couple of times, Roxy had to repeat her trick with the lantern to provide the shadows.

           Finally, there was only one stretch of open space to cross to where Longstride waited.

           “There are too many people,” said Roxy as all four of them crouched behind a grubby tent. The camp’s command tent was busy; all four walls had been tied back, leaving a canvas roof to shelter Jaran and his lieutenants as they pored over a sand table, and other warriors came and went constantly.  Vrand’s pebble rested on the table beside Jaran.

           “Wait here,” continued Roxy. “I’ll make a diversion for us.” With that, she slipped back the way they had come. Minutes later, a tent near the earthworks behind them went up in flames. “There,” said Roxy, rejoining the others as Jaran and the rest of the Charek abandoned the command tent and ran towards the fire. “Diversion.”

           “Your control of fire’s improved,” said Rhona as they dashed out towards Longstride. “Have you been practising without us?”

           “I didn’t do that with magic,” said Roxy, jogging alongside her. “I just lobbed a torch at it.”

           “Oh.”

           Athi ducked under the canvas and climbed up to the cabin on Longstride’s back. “Everyone up!” she hissed without removing the canvas. “And clip on!” she added, handing everyone a safety line once they had all joined her. Calburn took a moment to grab Vrand’s stone and shove it into one of his many pockets. “We’ll stop at the armoury to try and get your weapons, but once she gets going, she’s going to go fast.” She knelt behind Longstride’s head and bent to attend to something, muttering under her breath.

           “Can’t we use Vrand?” asked Roxy. “Or will he still be damaged when he comes out of the pebble?”

           “No, he’ll have healed,” said Calburn, attaching the safety line to the flying harness he still wore. “But he takes too long to materialise, and I think the Charek might notice a giant glowing dragon-thing-shape suddenly appearing in their camp.”

           “All right,” said Athi, getting back onto her feet. “She’s active. Shift the sheet so we can see where we’re going.” As Calburn and Rhona lifted the canvas away from Longstride’s head, Athi cracked her knuckles and grasped two moulded steel handles jutting up from the cabin’s front handrail. Tiny witchlights began to flicker all along the rail, matched by similar lights appearing on the backs of Longstride’s horns, and the iron ox took one ponderous step forwards.

           “How does this work?” asked Roxy, fascinated, as Longstride steadily picked up speed.

           “I’ll explain it to you some time when we’re not running for our lives,” promised Calburn.

           “Armoury’s this way,” said Athi above the thunder of Longstride’s footfalls. The construct slowed to skid around a corner, her claws leaving deep ruts in the earth underfoot, and sped up again towards the smoke of the camp’s forges. A young man hurled himself out of her path and picked himself up to blow several quick blasts on a horn.

           “Here! Grab your stuff and get back up here!” Athi tightened her grip on the handles; Longstride came to a halt beside one tent so quickly that both Rhona and Roxy lost their balance; Calburn, holding on to the handrail, remained standing and unclipped his line to let him scramble down to the tent. Moments later, he emerged with his sword, Rhona’s polearm, and Roxy’s bow and quiver in his arms, passed them up one by one, and climbed back up.

           “Tie those down or something,” said Athi. “If they fall, we’re not going back for them.”

           Calburn nodded and tied his scabbard across his back; Rhona did the same with the haft of her polearm. Roxy clipped her quiver to her belt and strung her bow so she could tuck her shoulder through it. Athi nodded. Longstride began to move again. The palisade atop the earthworks ahead of them drew rapidly closer, but Longstride neither slowed nor stopped, instead lowering her horned metal skull and bulldozing right through the log wall in a shower of splinters.

           Their exit did not go unnoticed.

           “Athi, we’ve got company,” said Calburn, thumping her on the shoulder and pointing behind them, where the flames from Roxy’s diversion had been extinguished and several mounted figures appeared at the broken palisade.

           “Yep, not unexpected,” she replied, hunching low over the rail just as an arrow bounced off the cabin roof. “Horses can’t match an iron ox at full speed. Now you’ll see exactly what Longstride can do.”

           The iron ox’s gait shifted up from a swift walk until she was barrelling along at a full gallop, more like a rampaging karkadann than a horse. Hooves drummed against the earth behind them as the Charek gave chase, but they were soon drowned out by the blasting wind of Longstride’s passage. The camp’s lights faded into the distance and were soon several miles behind.

           “Don’t celebrate just yet!” warned Athi as Roxy gave a whoop of triumph. “We still need to-”

           A strange vibration rumbled through the air, something entirely different to Longstride’s footsteps, and metal screamed under stress as the construct listed wildly to one side and crashed to the ground. Her passengers cut the safety lines and hurled themselves free of the wreckage, just in time to see one of the construct’s clawed forelegs – neatly sliced through at the elbow – fall from the sky with a deafening clatter.

           “Oh, gods,” said Calburn as the air shook again, more strongly than before, and a portal ripped open behind them to release more angry Charek riders than they could easily count. “They do have a Portallist.”

           “Leave her!” said Rhona, grabbing Athi’s arm as she stared blankly at Longstride’s severed foreleg. “Cal, there’s no time to fix it – we’ll have to use Mossy and Tyren.”

           Calburn nodded and yanked Mostol’s summoning stone from around his neck. “Come on, come on… Right! Mount up! Let’s go!”

           Tyren, smaller and lighter by far, could only carry a single rider; Roxy and Athi had to cling to Mostol’s packsaddle as the two constructs began to gallop.

           “If we can keep ahead, we have a chance,” Rhona shouted. “These two aren’t much faster than a horse, but they can keep going for longer.” Athi nodded weakly, still staring back at the remains of Longstride, and wound her arms through the straps of the packsaddle. Roxy, instead, hooked her legs into the harness and readied an arrow.

           Calburn unhooked the marble pouch from his belt. “This’ll buy us some time!”

           “Marbles?!” yelled Rhona. “What, you’re going to try and trip them?”        

           Calburn didn’t answer; instead he loosened the drawstring with his teeth and flung the pouch over his shoulder, scattering two dozen solid granite marbles across the dark ground behind them, then stuck finger and thumb in his mouth and gave a long, rising whistle. Lights flashed amongst the long grass; within moments, two dozen wolf-like constructs solidified, leapt to their feet, and sprinted back towards the pursuing Charek. The squeals of terrified horses echoed through the night. When the wolf constructs caught up once more, their teeth were stained with blood.

           Rhona stared at them.

           Calburn noticed. “You seriously thought I carried those marbles around for sentimental reasons?” he asked without slowing Mostol. “I have to keep a few tricks up my sleeve!”

           “You are bonkers,” said Athi. Roxy nodded her agreement, but her broad grin suggested that she did not disapprove.

           The air shook as another portal opened, this time off to their right; half of the pursuing Charek rode through and circled around, trying to herd their prey back towards the others.

           “Roxy, try and spot their Portallist,” shouted Rhona, banishing all thoughts of Calburn’s sudden wolf pack. “We’ll never shake them if they can jump ahead like that!”

           Roxy nodded and knelt up on Mostol’s back, still steadying herself with the harness straps. Her eyes narrowed in thought; without a word, she nocked an arrow, drew back the string, and loosed.

           One man, riding pillion with another Charek, toppled from his horse. The portal vanished immediately.

           “We can talk about where they found a Portallist later,” shouted Rhona when Calburn thoughtfully opened his mouth. “Escape now, ponder later! Oh, no.”

           The flanking riders had overtaken them. Calburn hauled on Mostol’s reins so hard that the construct let out a roar, but he turned on his back legs nonetheless and galloped away between the two groups. The Charek rejoined behind them, much closer than before. One rider hurled a javelin, narrowly missing the end of Tyren’s tail. Others stood up in their stirrups, readying ropes and arrows.

           Roxy hung her bow across her chest and looked around frantically. A fierce golden light flared in her eyes as she swung one arm wildly out; fire roared into life behind Mostol, catching the dry grass in a long dividing line between the Charek and their targets. Horses whinnied in fear, shying away from the flames; Charek swore and shouted as they tried to control their mounts. Roxy swayed where she knelt, but Athi grabbed her tunic before she could lose her balance altogether. The gap widened once more.

           “Well done!” shouted Calburn. “How’d you do that?”

           “Not sure,” said Roxy. “Energy of the wind, I think.”

           “Nice one! Let’s just hope that doesn’t spread too far…”

           The Charek had similar thoughts: while most rode around to continue the chase, a few dismounted to try and beat the flames out. It did not diminish their numbers by much. Jaran rode at their head, his sabre unsheathed in one hand and most of his warriors close behind. The tiring horses struggled to catch up to the constructs and more and more fell back as Calburn’s wolf pack ran to harry them, but soon arrows began to fly. One thudded into Mostol’s rump, but he kept running without even seeming to notice. A second struck deep into Tyren’s ankle; she let out a shrieking roar and fell, sending Rhona flying from her back. Tyren vanished in a flash of light, leaving only the stone clutched in Rhona’s hand.

           Calburn dug his heels into Mostol’s flanks, turning the construct, grabbed Rhona’s wrist, and swung her up behind him. Laden with four people, even Mostol began to struggle. The gap gradually narrowed once again.

           “Come on, Mossy, keep at it,” urged Calburn. “We can do this, just keep going!”

           Slowly, the first dim light of dawn appeared in the east. Roxy cocked her head and turned to look, just as a sliver of sun rose above the horizon. As Mostol groaned under the weight, Roxy clenched her jaw, knelt up once again, and stretched her left hand out towards the rising sun. The right, she pointed palm-first towards the Charek.

           It began as a strange, faint glow on her left hand, shining within the veins, and swiftly travelled up her arm, growing more intense as it went. The glow reappeared in her eyes, brighter and more frightening than before.

           “Roxy, no!” Too late, Rhona grabbed at her shoulder. Light lanced down Roxy’s right arm and erupted from the palm of her hand in a blinding, searing torrent. Her mouth gaped in a soundless scream, revealing the same glow in the pit of her throat.

           When the light finally faded, a blackened furrow as wide as Mostol was long and half as deep had been carved through the heart of the Charek warband. Jaran had survived, still astride his big roan, but even he could only stare in shock as half of what had once been a horse and its rider – now charred into ash – toppled into the pit.

           Roxy’s eyes rolled back in her head, no longer glowing. Wisps of smoke curled up from her right hand, the palm reddened and blistering, and she collapsed where she sat. Rhona and Athi caught her before she fell.

           “Make for that outcrop,” said Athi, pointing towards a raised spur of rock jutting up from the Steppes a mile or two ahead. “I don’t think we can outrun them much longer, but gods willing those wolves of yours can help hold them off.”

           One side of the rock was a steep slope that even Mostol’s broad three-toed hooves were hard-pressed to climb, while the other three were sheer crags. It was barely twenty feet high at its tallest point, but compared to the open plains it was practically a fortress. The wolf constructs took up a guard position at the ‘gate’ as Mostol’s passengers dismounted at the top.

           Frowning, Rhona pressed two fingers to Roxy’s wrist.

           “Is she all right?” asked Calburn, unsheathing his sword.

           “Power exhaustion,” said Rhona. She adjusted her grip on Roxy’s arm and began to heal the burn on her hand. “She’ll be fine if she can sleep it off.” She looked up at the approaching Charek and added, “Assuming we aren’t all killed in the next five minutes. Can you bring Vrand out now?”

           “I don’t think I have time,” said Calburn sadly. “The wolves should keep them at bay down there.”

           “They have bows,” said Athi. “Can you two do shields at all?”

           “Not reliably,” said Rhona. “And not against arrows.”

           “Hunker down behind Mossy,” said Calburn. “He’s got thick skin – he can take a few arrows.”

           Roxy’s blast had scattered the warband in all directions, but a few yells and gestures from Jaran soon gathered the shaken survivors. Although the horses were reluctant to get any closer to the wolf constructs, before long the rock was completely surrounded.

           “How long do you think you can hold out up there?” asked Jaran, leaning on his saddle horn as the other Charek passed around a flask, each taking a small sip. “There’s four of you, and still more than a hundred of us even after your young witch’s little trick.”

           “What’s the wait, then?” asked Calburn, peering over Mostol’s back. “Scared to take us on without your birds to soften us up?”

           Jaran laughed. “We can catch more thuru. In time we can find another portal-maker. With planning it won’t be hard to get another iron ox. But I can’t really afford to let scouts bring word of us to the man calling himself the Great Khan.”

           “What’s this all about?” asked Athi.

           Jaran smiled and rested the blunt edge of his sabre against his shoulder. “What it’s always about,” he said with a little shrug. “Wealth and power. We draw out the Great Khan, and suddenly not just the Steppes, but the whole Empire is under Charek control.” He lifted the sabre to point at them. “Under my control. This new Khan is weak. We can take him easily.”

           “He’s completely delusional,” said Rhona.

           “Agreed, but that doesn’t help us much right now,” Athi told her.

           “So what’s the bloody holdup?” yelled Calburn.

           “Simple,” said Jaran as Charek warriors began to throw their heads back with unearthly screams, lashing the air with swords and spears. “Had to wait for the bearskin to take effect.”

           As one, shrieking as much as the thuru had, the drugged warriors threw themselves from their horses and charged. The wolf constructs closed in at the foot of the slope, snapping at ankles and wrists, here and there bearing a warrior to the ground to tear at their throats, but they could not stop them all. More and more slipped through the gaps in the wolves’ line to scramble up the slope or scale the sides of the little crag. Rhona jabbed down at clutching hands with her polearm, until one climbing berserker simply grabbed the weapon by its curving blade, ignoring the edge as it sliced into his fingers, and yanked it from her hands with a froth-at-the-mouth yowl. Heedless of the blood now oozing from his hands, the man – a full head taller than Rhona and broader than Calburn – heaved himself up onto the top of the crag and dragged a short sword from his belt.

           Calburn turned at Athi’s shout, lifting his own sword, but a coiling lasso wrapped twice around his hand and dragged backwards, slamming him roughly against the makeshift parapet of Mostol. The sword fell from his hands to clatter on the rock underfoot.

           The big man jabbed out with the short sword, aiming for Rhona’s heart; with a final, desperate cry, she lurched forwards, planted both hands flat against his boiled-leather breastplate, reached in with her powers, and pulled. The man stopped dead, motionless but for the occasional twitch. Each breath rasped and bubbled in his throat; blood spattered from his mouth and nose with each heave of his chest. His face paled, vessels standing out on each side of his neck, and the whites of his eyes turned red. Slowly, he toppled backwards off the crag, dragging screaming Charek with him as his nerveless body plummeted to the ground.

           Rhona slumped to her knees, staring at her hands. Calburn scrabbled at the taut ropes around his arm, trying to free himself. Athi swallowed hard and picked up the big Charek’s fallen sword, standing over Roxy’s motionless body.

           A flash of movement in the sky; a tiny shadow flickering over the churned-up grass. One of the Charek raised her spear and stabbed upwards at the little winged construct circling overhead, missing every time as the crystal bound to its harness glittered.  

           The air vibrated, drumming against their ears more loudly and for longer than before, and three wide portals tore open to the sound of hooves. Horses, dozens of them, poured through the gateways – riders of Yaigan, Mojor, Safrin and every other tribe of the Hawk Steppes lifted spears, swords and bows and screamed their war cries, cutting down Charek like scything wheat. Some, the less berserk, dropped their weapons and lifted their hands in surrender, but Jaran grabbed the nearest bearskin flask and lifted it to his mouth.

           The point of a sabre skewered the flask and dragged it from his hands. Ernak scowled at him, tossed the flask to the ground, and trampled it beneath his horse’s hooves.

           One last group walked through the central portal before it closed behind them. Zar folded his arms and surveyed the battlefield, his thuru cloak shed in favour of full Legion armour – more decorated than that of a normal soldier, part of the helmet mimicking the Imperial crown, but still entirely functional. The Paladins surrounded him, shields and javelins at the ready.

           Zar lifted one hand and pointed directly at Jaran. “Bring him to me.”

           A few normal legionaries with Lagara insignias took their place as the Paladins formed up and surged forwards. Jaran yelled for bows; Silver barked out one word – “Testudo!” – and the god-soldiers lifted their shields as one. Arrows bounced off the steel bosses or embedded harmlessly in the wood, and the war-pack began to march. No sword, arrow or spearhead broke through their shield-wall, until they broke the formation to drag Jaran from his horse and carry him bodily through the fray to where Zar waited.

           It was quickly over. Those Charek who had surrendered sat under guard, while other riders from Khan’s Kurgan began to pile the corpses in a heap. Ernak climbed up to the crag as Calburn dismissed Mostol and the wolf constructs.

           He made a choked sound at the sight of Roxy on the ground. “She’s not-”

           “She’ll be all right,” said Rhona quietly, still staring at her own hands. “It’s called power exhaustion. It happens sometimes when a mage overdoes it.”

           Ernak sighed in relief. “And the rest of you?”

           “Not badly injured,” said Calburn, rubbing the rope burns on his wrist.

           Athi backed him up with a nod. “How did you know where to find us?”

           Ernak pointed up at the little construct still flying in circles. “It knew where to find you,” he said, “and something about that crystal meant the Portallists could find you.”

           “Yeah, Portallists are big on crystals,” said Calburn. He got stiffly to his feet and lifted one hand. The little messenger fluttered down to land on his arm and vanished into its stone. “The Charek camp is up that way,” he added, pointing back along the trampled trail. “We’re not going back there.”

           Ernak nodded. “The rest of us should be able to find it easily enough now.”

           One by one they traipsed down from the rock, Rhona leaning heavily on Calburn and Ernak carrying Roxy in his arms, and made their way over to Zar.

           Jaran knelt before him, two javelins pressing against his back and two swords crossed against his throat. The rest of the Paladins waited with their own javelins readied.

           Zar reached up, removed his helmet, and passed it to one of the Lagara soldiers. “So,” he said, his voice perfectly steady and completely flat. “You are so-called War-Khan Jaran, the one responsible for stirring up the Charek.”

           Jaran spat on the ground and glared up at him.

           “You are also, therefore, responsible for the attack on Horse Rock, the destruction of the Ironstone Mine headframe, the theft of Iron Ox Longstride and the kidnapping of its drivers, releasing berserk thuru into Khan’s Kurgan, resulting in the deaths of fifty-seven civilians and twelve soldiers of the Sixth Legion and untold amounts of property damage, countless other thefts and murders, and conspiring to murder the Great Khan of the Hawk Steppes and consequently the Emperor of Kiraan.”

           Jaran nodded shortly.

           Zar tapped his fingers against his long sword. “My father would have had you dragged to the Imperial City in chains and publically disembowelled in the Grand Arena,” he said, his voice still without expression. “But I am not my father, and I have no stomach for such cruelty.”

           Jaran snorted. “Weak.”

           Zar’s eyes narrowed very slightly. “Let him stand.”

           The Paladins glanced at each other from behind their visors, but the four pinning Jaran drew back their weapons. Jaran got to his feet, reaching for a sabre he no longer carried.

           With one terrible motion, Zar drew his sword, closed both hands around the hilt, and swung. Three feet of heavy, razor-sharp steel flashed in the dawn light. Jaran’s head bounced once and rolled away as his body collapsed.

           Zar took a cloth from his belt to clean the blood from the blade and walked over to the other Charek prisoners. “Never forget,” he said, a controlled fury creeping into his voice, “that the crown of the Empire is forged of iron. Those who threaten my people will face consequences.” He sheathed the sword and folded his hands behind his back. “The rest of you, I leave to the justice and mercy of the Steppe Tribes. You may discuss their fates amongst yourselves,” he said to Ernak and the rest of the chieftains who had ridden through the portals. “Spare some for questioning.”

           The whole story didn’t take long to come out. Jaran, exiled from a Yaigan band three years before for murder, had risen to lead the outcasts through force of personality; his Portallist, an ex-Mojor with a prodigious self-taught talent, had joined up soon after when he was caught pilfering from the food stores at Jaran’s camp. A contact in the black market had supplied them with a barrel of bearskin elixir, originally smuggled from the Sea Loch Country for use by less scrupulous arena fighters. Gradually a plan to replace the Great Khan with one of their own had taken shape. Satisfied with the information, the allies from Khan’s Kurgan had ridden off to take care of the Charek encampment.

           A few of the Charek escaped before they got there. Most did not. The smoke from the mass pyre billowed high into the air, and did not fade for days on end.

           Calburn, Rhona, Roxy and Athi saw none of it, flying back to Khan’s Kurgan on the fully-healed Vrand. They settled back into Ernak’s encampment with Aysel, the band’s children, and anyone else too old, young or infirm to fight, and waited for the others to return. Aysel tucked Roxy into her sleeping bag and told one of the children to keep an eye on her. After a couple of days, Ernak and the rest of the warriors returned from mopping up, helped on the journey by the Sixth Legion’s portals. A very groggy Roxy emerged from the tent under her own power and wolfed down the plate of bread and cheese Aysel handed her.

           “Did we win?” she asked through a mouthful.  

           Calburn nodded and looked sideways at Rhona, who kept rubbing her hands with a faraway look in her eyes. “Yeah, we won,” he said, and sighed. “You channelled the sun out there, Roxy.”

           Roxy swallowed and grinned. “I did, didn’t I?”

           Calburn smiled. “You did a good job. But that kind of power is dangerous – very dangerous. You were lucky to get out with a bout of power exhaustion. You could’ve burnt yourself out.”

           “You did burn your hand,” said Rhona without looking at Roxy. “And it’s a wonder you didn’t do anything to yourself internally.”

           “Listen,” said Calburn as Roxy’s smile faded. “We – Rhona and me – will have to go back to the mine now that this Charek trouble is over. There’s still work we need to do there. More constructs, more healing. We plan to set off tomorrow morning. But if you aren’t going to become a real danger to yourself and everyone around you, you need someone who can instruct you properly, someone who has a better understanding of your abilities. That’s not us, not in the bone-deep way you need. Here.” He took a notebook and pencil from one of the many satchels on his belt and began to write. “This is the address of another wizard back in Stormhaven. There’ll probably be someone closer to hand that’ll be able to help, but if you’re up for the journey, he’s the best choice. His powers are a lot like yours, and he’s a good friend of ours, so we know he’s trustworthy.” He tore out the page and gave it to Roxy, who took it in one slightly trembling hand.

           “Stormhaven, eh?” said Ernak, draping an arm around Roxy’s shoulders. “I hear they’re a civilised sort of people up there. Don’t fret, Roxy, we’ll work something out for you. Any supplies you two need for heading off, you’re welcome to them.”

           On Vrand, the journey back to the Ironstone Mine would only be a matter of hours. Rhona quietly excused herself and sat at the edge of the camp while the band help Calburn pack up a few bits and pieces.

           Ernak noticed, and sat beside her while Aysel directed the others. “Your first battle?” he asked.

           Rhona nodded. “If you don’t count the thuru skirmish.”

           “I remember mine,” he said. “I was young, younger than Roxy. Our band was camped in the eastern reaches, in the shadow of the Border Highlands. Some reivers – hill tribes – swept down from the mountains one night. They were a wild lot. We only managed to drive them off because everyone – everyone – took up arms, or they would’ve killed all of us and taken our livestock, or so my father said. I was so scared, those reivers barely even looked human to me. They took their own dead and vanished back into the mountains, leaving us to deal with ours. Including my mother. I had nightmares for years afterwards.”

           “One of them took my weapon,” said Rhona, looking at her hands. “So I killed him with my powers. Just reached into his chest and tore at his insides. That sort of power… It’s meant for emergencies, if you have to make incisions without a proper scalpel to hand.” She lifted her glasses off and pinched her nose. “Healing magic shouldn’t be used to kill.”

           “Maybe not,” said Ernak. “But if your life’s in danger, there’s no shame in making use of what you have. A knife, a rock, a hammer… Just about anything can kill in the right – or wrong – hands. Magic’s no different to any other tool that way.”

           Rhona nodded, but said nothing. Up on Vrand’s back, Calburn finished strapping supplies to the harness and waved for Rhona to join him.

           “Do you think you’ll come back to the Steppes some day?” asked Ernak as Rhona stood up.

           “Maybe,” said Rhona after a long silence. “I’ll have a lot to take care of before then. Work at the mine. Work at home. And I’ll have to talk to the head of the School of Healing, for more reasons than one. But after that… Yes, maybe. I’ve enjoyed most of my time out here. It’d be good to explore for a while without worrying about Charek or thuru.”

           Ernak got to his feet and took a few steps forward. Rhona turned to look at him. “I was betrothed once,” he said. “She wouldn’t accept an elfin foster-daughter. That was the end of it. You, I think, wouldn’t have that problem.”

           “Ernak…”

           “May I kiss you?”

           Rhona held his gaze for a few seconds. “No,” she said, very softly. “But thank you for asking first.”

           Ernak nodded sadly. “Go well, then,” he said without rancour. “Thank you for all your help, with Roxy and with the Charek. Come back to Khan’s Kurgan one day.”

           Calburn climbed down from Vrand’s back to hug Aysel and Roxy goodbye, and looked up just as Rhona and Ernak reached them. “Everything’s packed away and tied down,” he said. “We can get airborne whenever you’re ready.”

           “Right.” Rhona made her farewells, politely refusing the offered hugs, and climbed up to attach her safety lines to Vrand’s harness. “Keep in mind what we said about finding a proper teacher, Roxy,” she called down. “Have you still got that address?” Roxy patted one of her pockets. “Good.”

           Calburn climbed up after her. “No sense putting it off much longer,” he said. “No telling what kind of weather we could run into aloft, so I want to make good time. Athi, did you work out how-”

           “They’re sending a salvage team out for Longstride,” she assured him, folding her arms. “Should be able to reforge her with the right tools.”

           “Great.” He donned his flying helmet, rescued from the Charek camp by Ernak. “Then this is goodbye,” he said. “Thanks for having us, and look us up if any of you are ever in Stormhaven!”

           Vrand reared up and spread his wings. Some of the band ran to secure their tents against the draught as he took flight, but most held firm and waved goodbye until they were out of sight.

           “Back to the mine, then,” said Calburn over the wind. “You can tell if your dust lung treatment’s been holding up.”

           “And your pit ponies, too,” said Rhona. “But after this, I don’t want to sign up for any more jobs abroad for at least a year.”

           “I’ll drink to that.”

           Vrand flew onwards, riding the wind high above the Hawk Steppes. After hours, the dark blot of the mine buildings appeared on the green-and-brown sheet of the grasslands, and a speck at the edge of the compound resolved into Overseer Kedran.

           “Is our Charek problem solved?” she asked as Vrand landed again.

           “I think so,” said Calburn. “For a while, at least – until somebody tries this again.”

           “Good.” She waved a hand towards the mine shaft, fenced off and covered in scaffolding. “We’ve been trying to reconstruct the headframe ever since you two left, but I think we need your big construct to make more progress until some proper cranes arrive. And a couple of the miners haven’t been responding properly to your dust lung potion,” she added to Rhona.

           Rhona sighed and slid down Vrand’s side to the dry ground. “Very well,” she said as Calburn began to pass supplies down to her. “Let’s get back to work.”

~~~

When Zar said he would have the heads of the ones responsible, he really wasn’t speaking figuratively. The sword he’s been carrying around is not a purely ceremonial one.

Fun fact: ‘Roxana’ is a feminine form of the Persian name ‘Roshan’, meaning (more or less) ‘light’. Make of that what you will...

[queenofcats17]

Home

Based loosely on @trainwreckgenerator’s comic.

Kravitz and Taako had been going out for about a month now, and Taako hadn’t told his teammates. Kravitz didn’t exactly blame him, especially considering what their first meeting had been like. It wasn’t as though Taako was deliberately keeping this secret from his friends, he just hadn’t gotten around to telling them. Plus, he said it was none of their business. But it made things a little...awkward, when it came to Kravitz hanging around. Case in point, the night after the theater. Kravitz and Taako had gone to a night at the theater for their date night that week. Kravitz had suggested they go to the opera and Taako had been surprisingly receptive to the idea.

“Sure m’man. Sounds like fun.” Taako said. “I’ve never been to the opera before.”

“You really want to go?” Kravitz was a little surprised. He’d thought the suggestion was a little pretentious, even to him. He only ever went to the opera when he was on his own ad had free time. It could be dreadfully boring, he knew that perfectly well.

“Yeah sure.” Taako shrugged. “I could use a little bit of class.”

“You say that like you aren’t classy already.” Kravitz kissed his cheek.

“Bubala, you’ve seen me eat a mouldy carrot.” Taako said. “Now let’s get going.”

“Let’s change first.” Kravitz said. He snapped his fingers and his clothes morphed to fancier black suit. Taako just watched, leaning on his hand and sighing. Kravitz flushed.

“Taako.”

“I’m going. I’m going.” Taako put his hands up and went into his bedroom to change. It took him about an hour to get ready because, as Taako said, ‘this level of perfection takes time’. Kravitz didn’t mind all that much, but he felt like Taako’s umbrella was giving him the stinkeye. He didn’t know how this was possible, but it was definitely happening.

“Whatever I did to you, I’m very sorry.” Kravitz whispered to the umbrella. “Please don’t try to burn me again.”

“Are you talking to my umbrella?” Taako snorted as he exited his bedroom. Kravitz’s breath hitched in his throat. Taako looked absolutely radiant, decked out in a backless champagne evening gown that seemed to sparkle when the wizard moved. He wore gloves as well, and a fur wrap.

“Like what you see?” Taako fluttered his eyelashes.

“You look amazing.” Kravitz rose from his seat. Taako grinned and inserted himself into Kravitz’s arms.

“So, what’re we goin’ to see?”

They’d gone to see Antigone, which was “metal as fuck” according to Taako. Kravitz didn’t necessarily agree with that description, but he’d been happy Taako had enjoyed the performance. Once it was over, the two of them went back to Taako’s residence to...continue the evening. It had been a wonderful night, and Kravitz had woken up with Taako cradled against his chest. The smaller man’s breathing was even and deep, and Kravitz reveled in the feeling of it on his bare chest. It had been so long since he’d felt something warmth like this. Then he heard the sounds of someone ascending the stairs up to Taako’s room. Judging by the heavy steps, he was assuming it was Magnus. He panicked, starting to scramble to get his clothes.

“What’re you doing?” Taako mumbled, sitting up. His hair was a mess, forming a cloud around his head.

“Magnus is coming. I have to go.”

“Why’re you running?” Taako frowned. “Are you....Are you ashamed of me?”

“What? No!” Kravitz paused, his pants halfway on. “No. If anyone, I thought you would be ashamed of me. I tried to kill your friends. They can’t look upon me kindly.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Taako waved a hand dismissively. “Can you hand me my shirt?” Kravitz did that, passing the shirt along and putting his own on. His pants were still only half on, leaving him in a state of dishevelment only Taako ever got to see. Taako liked moments like these, when he saw a side of Kravitz that no one else would ever get to see.

“You gonna do the walk of shame?” Taako asked, wiggling his eyebrows. Kravitz went bright red, all the way to his ears, and turned away, buttoning up his shirt.

“Do I have something to be ashamed of?” He asked, flashing a smile that made Taako swoon.

“Hope not.”

“Taaaaaakkkooo!” Magnus’ sleepy voice came from the door to Taako’s dwelling. “You said you’d make paaaancaaaaakes!” Then there was the sound of Magnus pounding on the doorway. Taako rolled his eyes and swung his legs over the bed.

“Ditch the pants, Krav.” He said. “You can go as is.”

“I don’t want to walk out in front of your friends in my boxers!” Kravitz hissed.

“It’s part of the walk of shame m’dude.” Taako grinned and slapped Kravitz’s back. “Now c’mon.” As Kravitz made his way to the door, Taako suddenly stopped him.

“Wait.” He said. “Eat with us. They’ve gotta get used to you at some point.”

“Taaaaaaakkkooooo!” Magnus’ pounding grew louder. “I want paancaaakes!”

“I’m coming!” Taako yelled, getting up. He dragged Kravitz to the door. The latter struggled, but not very much. He did want to get past all this sneaking around. It was frankly rather tiring. So he let Taako drag him to the door.

“You interrupted my beauty sleep, numbnuts.” Taako said, glaring at Magnus. “What time is it anyway?” Magnus made a vague noise that the couple interpreted to mean that he didn’t know. Presumably he’d just gotten up. Taako could hear Merle chanting pancakes from the communal room.

“Okay, fine. I’ll make pancakes.” Taako rolled his eyes. “Krav’s gonna sit with you guys while I’m cooking. Play nice.”

“Mkay.” Magnus sleepily grabbed Kravitz’s arm in his large hand and dragged him down to the dining room. Merle immediately stiffened when he saw the reaper come into view, not wearing pants, his shirt only half buttoned.

“What is he doing here?” He asked.

“He was with Taako.” Magnus said, slowly beginning to realize what was going on. He looked down at the reaper. “What were you doing with Taako.”

“Well...you see....Taako and I have been...Seeing each other for a few months now.” Kravitz chose his words carefully. “I understand that you might not approve given our...history.”

“You’re right. I don’t.” Merle said. “You turned my arm into crystal.”

“And I am very sorry for that.” Although he knew sorry wasn’t going to bring Merle’s arm back.

“Well, he hasn’t killed Taako yet.” Magnus pointed out. “And I,” he leaned in close and whispered loudly to Merle. “I think they might’ve had sex.”

“I did not need to know that!” Merle pushed Magnus away, making a very interesting facial expression. It was something between horror and disgust.  

“What? The best time to kill someone is when they’re least expecting it.” Magnus said. “Julia took out a bunch of Kalen’s cronies that way. It was totally awesome.”

“Alright you fuckers, I got your pancakes.” Taako appeared at the top of the stairs, holding multiple plates of pancakes. “You better be playing nice with my gorgeous hunk of man meat.” Kravitz sunk down in his seat, covering his face with his hands.

“Oh Pan.” Merle groaned. “I don’t want to know about this.”

“So you two are doing it?” Magnus’ eyes widened.

“Well~” Taako just sauntered down and laid the plates down onto the table. He winked and settled in Kravitz’s lap. Kravitz sat up a little straighter.

Breakfast was...awkward, to say the least. Merle kept glaring at him, and Magnus asked a lot of questions Kravitz really really didn’t want to answer. And then Carey and Killian showed up. That was worse, because Carey and Killian had seen Kravitz and Taako at Chug&Squeeze. They had known about Taako’s relationship with the reaper for a long time now. Nearly the entire time the two had been together. Worse still, the girlfriends could share numerous stories about Taako and Kravitz, including one where Taako and Kravitz had reenacted a scene from Ghost, with Taako playing the role of the sexy ghost. Kravitz had needed some help. He wasn’t terribly good at pottery, but Taako was. The story got a laugh out of Magnus and a little snort out of Merle.

“I regret nothing.” Taako said. “Any chance to touch this guy is a chance I’m gonna take.” He punctuated this by wrapping his arms around Kravitz’s neck. Merle muttered something about kids these days.

“I am much older than you.” Kravitz said before he could stop himself.

“Oh yeah! How old are you anyway?” Carey asked. “Taako says you’re old as balls, but that’s not really an answer.”

“You would doubt me?” Taako said with a horrified gasp.

“Taako, old as balls is not an age.” Carey said.

“Yes it is!”

“I....Don’t actually remember how old I am.” Kravitz admitted. “I’ve been doing this for centuries, I believe. So...That’s some kind of benchmark.”

“That is old as balls.” Killian said. “Taako, you’re dating an old man.”

“Psh! He’s young at heart!” Taako said. “And have you seen this face?” He squeezed Kravitz’s cheeks. “Look at this beautiful face!” Kravitz couldn’t help but laugh a little bit. He felt a bit better about being around Taako’s friends now. They didn’t seem as though they actively wanted to kill, except maybe Merle. But Merle just seemed more grumpy than anything else. For the first time in a long time, Kravitz felt...at home. He felt safe and warm and welcomed.

As he sat alone in the Eternal Stockade, he remembered that moment. He felt the residual warmth as he hugged his knees to his chest. He prayed to the Raven Queen that Taako and his friends were alright. As long as they were okay, nothing else mattered.

[followersofnothing-blog]

The Knight

The chair creaked as the man tilted back in it, near causing it to fall over, though having a firm grasp as he sat dead center in the dark room of that house. Staring up at the ceiling as the only light in that room was the cigar he puffed on, filling that sealed off room with smoke. Only a little light crept in through the drapes as it fell on a bloody and beaten man who sat against the wall in front of the man in the chair. He had his left hand nailed against the wall, but both were silent. The torture had gone on for so long that he was near numb to the pain and the silence lasted what would seem eternity. Finally the man smoking the cigar spoke in a calm tone.

“They’re going to be home soon aren’t they?”

The man on the floor muttered something, but couldn’t make his voice loud enough so he just made an uh-huh sound and nodded his head. The man in the chair spoke again.

“So do you understand now? I’m a reasonable guy you know. You may have provided me a cheap ass cigar, but...I can be forgiving.” He chuckled a little, “Fucken idiot... He gave you so many warnings to pay your debt. Why don’t you pay back assholes like that, hm? I just don’t fucking get your types. How do you let yourself get in so much debt?” He finally sat the chair on all fours as he looked towards the man, the dark still shrouding him except for the light of his cigar. He blew some smoke in the man on the floor’s face, “I just want you to say one thing. You’re going to pay him back. Say it.”

The man coughed up a bit of blood as he forced his voice to be loud enough, “I’ll...I’ll pay him back, just don’t hurt my family. Please...”

Smirking a little as he took the cigar out of his mouth and held it in his hand for a bit as he just looked at it before dropping it on the floor and stamping it out with his boot. “Good. Then my contract is up once I go collect my payment. No hard feelings, yeah? This is just my business as you have your own, but my soon to be previous contract kinda pissed me off. Wanna make a deal?”

“Wh-what do you...” He cringed in some pain from the wounds inflicted on him, “...mean?” He finished.

He knocked on his own head and laughed a bit, sounding playful in his words as he spoke again, “I mean lets make a contract. Hire me. I’m not here to physically collect the payment. I’m here to rough you up until you understood. As far as I am concerned...you understood. So instead of wasting your fucking time paying back that low life piece of shit wanna be master of the slums. You pay me. I’m running a real special deal this afternoon. You pay me half by the end of the week when you would have paid me. I go deal with him. Then you give me the other half. The total cost will be half what you owed him and down the road you will owe me a favor. You have a job in this city that would be useful to me one day. Waddaya say?” He extended his hand to the man for a shake, “Deal?”

The man who was beaten by this what seemed to be thug would just stare up at him before reaching his hand up that wasn’t nailed to the wall as he sealed this deal.

“Fix yourself up some before your family gets home later then!” He laughed a bit more, “Always good to get another job!”

----------2 Days Later-----------

“Get your drunken ass out of here Luca! Every fucking time some prick bails you out. I don’t know who would waste time with you, but I’m sick of wasting time looking at you!” The Stockade guard spoke out with venom towards the man as he lead him outside into the sunlight, “If I see you again this week I’m putting you in a cell with someone bigger than you. Got it?!”

Luca pushed some of his long blonde hair back out of his face as he smiled showing his rather white teeth to the guard in a cheeky green, “Right, riiiiight. I know. No more drinking and getting into fights. And I guess I just always have a guardian angel! Lucky me!”

“Get. The. Fuck. Out.”

Luca gave a nervous grin lifted his gloveless hands and waved, making sure to show the mouth tattoos on his palms that had tongues sticking out. Laughing at his little action he would turn and quickly run off before he pissed the guard off more. Luca was a young man and fairly average in height, looking to be in his early to mid-twenties and had a rather handsome complexion. He wore a dark brown leather fest that he always left open showing off some of the strange tattoos on his chest and the fur that lined the inside of the vest. Around the collar of the vest was extra fur padding for his own comfort. Though without any weapons at the moment, his dark black pants were held up by a belt that seemed to have pouches for many things.

He grinned to himself as he finally was walking the streets, making his way towards the Stormwind Docks as he went to a rather run down looking back alley street and made his way to what would look like an abandoned and possibly condemned house as he opened that rickety door and made his way inside. 

He cheerily called out in a whimsical voice, “I’m hooooo-!” He was quickly cut off as he clutched his noise being taking a hit to his face from a book, “Fuck that hurt!”

An angry voice from a young woman called out from the house, “He told me you would be home soon. Luca... Where the FUCK IS IT?!” She screamed out in anger, “I am going to murder you today! And this time IT ISN’T A FUCKING JOKE!”

To be continued...

[jumpchain-drop]

Chapter 3.31: 6.91 Years

Year 7, day 333: Humba has contacted us. The posters for the ad on the milk carton have finally managed to respond. A letter was delivered to her with a meeting location where the tip could be heard: Witchyworld’s Crazy Castle Stockade, a week from now right after the park closed. Come alone, it said.

Define “alone,” assholes.

Year 7, day 334: We have one chance at this. If they’re having the meeting to get the tip on Tooty, they wouldn’t probably bring all their gear and potions to bear like they did in the raid on Spiral Mountain. However, it was very unlikely that all of them would show up to just get some information, and it definitely wouldn’t be the boss. If these guys were that stupid, they wouldn’t have evaded the underground for so long.

The detaining of the entire Police force, I had to remind myself, was the ideal outcome. Ultimately, what mattered was that we got the contract targeting Tooty canceled.

Today I got Banjo, Kazooie, and Jamjars briefed on the news. There are a lot of preparations to make.

Year 7, day 340: Dilberta walked nervously into the Stockade surrounding the massive yellow bouncy castle. The sky on the inside was still painted in daylight, but with most of the lights off it looked anything but.

A henchmen was there, in the back. Not as bulky as Klungo, but by no means skinny.

“You the one that knowsss where girl bear isss?” he asked. “Better have come alone, or I’ll have to sssmash you...”

“P-Please don’t…!” she stuttered. “I-I’m the one that called, a-and there’s no one else with me…!”

“Ssso I sssee… Then ssstart talking before I-”

And then I, from my hiding place underground, Dug a hole under him and pulled him down to his shoulders.

“We got him we got him!” Bitbit squawked from his perch at the top of the bouncy castle where he had been hidden since noon.

“You tricked me!” he yelled at Dilberta as he struggled to escape my sinkhole, but she was already scampering away home, as we agreed, and the rest of us were around him in moments.

For a drill sergeant, Jamjars is one mean interrogator. Having Kazooie and Bitbit around to peck his head didn’t hurt either. Well, it didn’t hurt us.

The gun was the most junior of the ten mercs that make up the Police. Only about five of them were Klungo-brand; the rest were various other animals, including the chief whose identity he didn’t know, he swore. The chief chose the jobs, and was the only one that would be able to enforce a cancel.

He did, however, know the current location of the Police hideout; a warehouse in the far outskirts of the Quagmire.

I left Jamjars and his team to gift-wrap the guy for the underground. I took mine, along with Banjo and Kazooie, and we went to catch a few quick winks before the big showdown.

Year 7, day 341: Seeing as fighting nine guys armed with weapons and numerous potions on their home turf when four of them managed to hold us (without B-K) to a standstill was the stupidest idea since Canary Mary (fuck Canary Mary), we opted for the stealth approach to their hideout. Terra, Piddle, Bitbit, Shadow, Banjo, Kazooie, and I went in in the early morning hours, but not quite at dawn because Witchyworld closes pretty dang late.

The Police weren’t locked and loaded, mostly cleaning their weapons with some chatter about how the guy probably should’ve been back by now. I didn’t like the vibe; they were suspicious and not in any way off-guard, like the consummate professionals they were.

I pulled the team back outside. “I don’t know how to say this, guys, but I’m certain in a straight-up fight, we’d be completely destroyed.”

“Just let me Wonderwing through the lot of them!” said Kazooie. “They can’t be any harder than Beaker Boy.”

“You didn’t have to fight upwards of five ‘Beaker Boys’ at once before,” I said. “Sorry, Kazooie, but we’re gonna have to go with plan B. Terra, you have the stuff I talked to you about earlier?”

A couple minutes later, I knocked on the warehouse door.

“Hey, I come in peace.”

It’s terrifying having more than one giant knife pointed at you. I kept my hands where they could see them.

“Who’re you?” one of them asked.

“Hmm, you look a little familiar...” said another. Now that I think of it, I was a Sandslash for pretty much that entire original fight so long ago. My pangolin form was visually distinct enough that, at least for these brainiacs, one wasn’t immediately connected to the other.

“What do you want?” the third asked. “You better not be with the underground; they’ve given usss nothing but trouble lately.”

“I assure you, I’m not with the underground.” Officially, I added in my head. “I just need to talk with your boss about something important.”

“We’sss not just sssome band of mercs, dillo-boy,” the second said, which made my temper spike a good bit. “We’sss the Rubbisssh Character Policcce. We have channelsss for ssstuff like thisss if you want sssomeone rubbissshed.”

“Now hold on there, blokes.”

That voice came from an approaching figure in the back. Emerging from the shadows was a sizable looking stoat, almost a Banjo and a half tall at full height.

“Name’s Breakline,” he introduced himself. “Breakline the Boss. I’m the chief of this here Police. And if you sought us out so badly you came directly to us, well then, you must really need us.”

“Come on, chief, can’t we just rubbisssh him a little…?” one of the others whined.

“Hey, what do I tell you?” Breakline replied. “We don’t rubbish anyone for free, not even if we want to. You’re going to have to pay for it, and we don’t take credit.”

The merc just growled.

Breakline turned his attention back to me. “So, I hear you have something important to talk to me about. So speak up before I start charging you for my time.”

“I understand that you have a job out on my friend,” I said, trying my best to not let the sizeable stoat intimidate me. “One female bear named Tooty.”

“I think I remember someone by that name that got away,” he replied. “But so what? Why you bringing up something that ain’t nothing to do with you?”

By now, I had a good handle on the value of a Note. For example, each of those ten Jinjo plushies were roughly 18 inches tall and had cost 5 Notes each. A plushie of that size on my world would be about $20, so a Note was about equal to $4, a value that held in comparison to other items whose Earth prices I remember. By that logic, the 20-Note silo trips cost $80, which seems ludicrous, but those silos were meant to evade witches, magical detection, and all other sorts of things. They were not cheap to maintain, and were the primary way for the underground to fund itself as far as I knew. Not to mention vehicle parts in Showdown Town could (would?) run into 40 Notes and higher pretty easily.

So I knew the full weight of what I was about to say.

I looked Breakline square in the eye. “I will pay you 300 Notes to cancel that contract.”

Silence filled the air, and then all at once, almost everyone shouted and exclaimed in complete shock and disbelief, even my teammates that were hiding nearby in case things went wrong. The only one that didn’t was Terra, as I cleared the amount with her first this time. I had originally planned to spend 500, but she talked me down.

Well, Breakline didn’t react with shock either. Instead, he stared at me. I’ve played enough poker to know why; he was sizing me up, seeing if I was bluffing. It was a little freaky, but paled in comparison to the terror from being around an embodiment of nightmares.

And then suddenly, he burst into laughter, as if he just remembered a really funny joke.

“Oh man. You’re serious, kid. Tell you what, the entire Spiral Mountain gig was only worth 200 to us! And I hate having that sword over my head! Looking for years and never able to pin her down! I’d be glad to get rid of it! You got the money?”

Slowly, to avoid setting of the jumpy and clearly more vicious mercs (of course, Breakline had to keep them in line with more than money somehow), I pulled a smallish sack of Notes from my backpack and tossed them to him. He held the bag for a while, giving it a few tosses, as he gauged the weight before peeking inside.

“You just keep on surprising me, kid.” I didn’t feel like telling him I was like twenty-seven. “You hang tight and let me sort this out. And don’t you blokes be causing any trouble for the customers, or I’ll cut your pay and SUPLEX YOU TO THE DARK SIZE OF THE MOON!”

I covered my ears quickly as Breakline suddenly roared like a wild animal just long enough to finish his sentence before snapping back to his original demeanor. His employees flinched significantly.

“N-Not a problem, chief…!” one of them said.

“I thought not.”

And so Breakline went back deeper into the warehouse. The other mercs stopped aiming their weapons at me, but mostly kept a perimeter up to keep me from following him.

The wait was excruciating and quite odorous, but eventually he came back.

“OK, your friend is off our to-do list,” he announced. “And if any of my blokes try to bother her again, they know what’s coming, don’t they?” He gave them a massive stink-eye for a moment.

“Y-Yesss, chief...”

“Fun fact: I have them call me that because the droning when they said ‘boss’ took forever to stop. Anyway, pleasure doing business with you.”

“A pleasure as well,” I replied. “Say, if I may ask, who made the contract on her in the first place?”

“Well, since you made my day and I watched him die, I’ll tell you free of charge,” said Breakline. “You know that really fat witch that used to live on the mountain?”

“Blobbelda, yeah.”

“It was her cat.”

“...Huh. Didn’t see that coming.”

“Yeah, surprised me too. Cats are tricky types. Way too quiet, they are.”

I dismissed myself from their company and headed back. I reconvened with the others in front of Grunty Industries, as we planned if they didn’t need to come out.

Year 7, day 345: I managed to pass the news to Tooty today. She was actually a little disappointed, as she wanted to kick their butts. Banjo was with us, and he could tell that she was still happy she didn’t have to hide anymore. She, in returned, noted that he had been gaining a good bit of weight.

With who she was hiding from no longer a problem, she was free to go, but she volunteered to keep going for a few more years. “I’m not tired of this adventure yet!” Her leave time would still be increased significantly.

I’ll have to remember to get in on some of that.