#you'd think I'd learn to check if it's charging or not before I go to sleep after /the incident/

[kirbybecomesastarwarrior]

What Kind of King is in my Blood?

Context: this piece was inspired by the song "In My Blood." sung by Joel Smallbone from Journey to Bethlehem (the movie). And contains the lyrics of the song.

Warning: content contains blood (mild) & implied physical abuse... the more graphic scenes to be underneath the keep reading section of the post... if you are uncomfortable with such things.

I've mentioned this before in a previous post & please check out the original video (have a listen: it's incredible). Or better yet, put it on while reading the comic. :D

I do suggest you read: Celestine is Merlin before this;

Young Arthur... was not a good person in the sightless and was very close to becoming a mini-Sir Uther. And I also would like to stress how evil Sir Uther is...(Uther is not Arthur's father, but the song just fits them so...)

Behind the arrogance and pride, his actions were a tie of wanting and seeking Uther's approval...

Other than that, please enjoy the content.

Background info: this takes place around the time Arthur starts to take a liking to Merlyn and even trust them (and before he found out Merlyn was Lady Celestine). Soon their game of cat & mouse blossomed into a friendship...

Celestine never put pressure on Arthur to change: in fact, she tried to save Nonsurat & Morgan, too... she'd put them in scenarios where she'd see them grow empathy. (Putting someone in another's shoes.)

She'd show them the damage the war was doing to the public... and the innocent.

Allowing them all the chance to do good but in the end...The only one who was receptive to it was Arthur. Which surprised her... she believed Arthur would be the last person who would be captivated by the lesson. (Since he was Uther's most loyal soldier... his right-hand man...)

When it was clear that the lessons were only effective for Arthur (and the only one who was willing to change), she started to tailor them for Arthur. Genuinely started by doing vigilante work with Merlyn and learning more about this "outside world he never knew about."

(Unbeknownst to these goobers these were pretty much the equivalent of dates.)

However, Arthur couldn't help but feel guilty that he was betraying his master (Uther). That all changed, however, after a certain mission...

Arthur & Company were tasked to clear a demon infestation of a cave. Which held serval rare artifacts that were stolen. Some of Nightmare's monsters had made it into a stronghold (a secret base), and Arthur was in charge of clearing it. Morgan tried to trap Arthur in the deeper, darkest part of the cave where the majority of the monsters were dwelling.

Thankfully, Celestine secretly tagged along with him!

It took them a week... to escape the cave ... everyone had started to assume that Arthur had died during the mission. He was about to report his return as soon as he arrived at the camp base until... he overheard a very upsetting conversation.

Sir Kay (Kit Cosmo): Sir Uther! Sir Arthur is still missing, we can't leave just yet...

Sir Uther: He's been missing for a week... we only have three days left on this planet, and we need to finish recovering the reset of the artifacts... our time & manpower is limited.

Kit Cosmo: It that's the case... I'd be more than willing to take a small team to recover him... heck, I'll even go there by myself if I have to...

Sir Uther: DID YOU NOT HEAR WHAT I SAID! I am not wasting manpower... are you questioning my judgment?

Kit Cosmo: NO SIR!* Nevourly but still firm* I just thought you'd press the issue more... he's our captain and, more importantly, your right-hand man-

Sir Uther: WHY do you think you have two other apprentices... he's replaceable...If he died out there then he's a failure that deserves to be left... DON'T NOT BOTHER LOOKING FOR HIM!

You're lucky I have more pressing issues to attend to or that right arm or yours would've been charred... This conversation is over! *leans into Kit menacingly* YOU'RE DISMISSED! *Kit lets out a big gulp and backs away out of the tent*

Little did they know Arthur & Celestine (Merlyn) were listening in on the conversation. With Celestine fuming... and with Arthur shaking...

Celestine (currently disguised as Merlyn): WHY THAT FAT HEADED TYRANT! Don't listen to him, you're- Arthur? *sees Arthurs gone* Arthur...

Arthur runs off to contemplate... his mind reeling from what he had just heard. He always knew that Uther saw him as nothing more than a tool. The title of the right hand was just merely a cover-up... a lie made by Sir Uther (that he was something to him). He always knew this, but he couldn't understand why this still hurt him so much.

Arthur, at his core... still just wanted to be praised and desperately wanted at least a shred of affection from Uther. Hearing this broke him instantly... and forced him to look inside himself. He may have always known it... but a part of him always wanted to believe in the lie... So he put this facade of pride and arrogance to ignore it.

Only realizing how much Uther took advantage of his desire for affection from him... allowing him (Uther) to mold him into what he wanted. The brilliant golden amor (that Uther gave him), was all part of the illusion... he was no hero... he was just a monster... just like his master... just like Uther...

This leads us to this scene...

-The key things I wanted to mention were those marks on Arthur's shoulders are burn marks...

-Those bubbles at the end represent Celestine's influence

-I featured a Kirby-sized baby Arthur with a little training armor... it's pretty much his inner child... Sweet little bean didn't deserve this

-I also updated Uther's shoes :3

At this point, Celestine already cares for Arthur so much, and he's already redeemed himself (in her eyes). But Arthur can't help but hate himself for his past actions now seeing the full picture...

He destroyed himself for a man... who would never care for him... Arthur couldn't help but feel ashamed. He felt so disgusted with himself... forgetting all the progress he'd made... Believing himself to be a worthless puppet...

And it broke her heart to see Arthur like this... that's why she reminds him of what she sees him as. And this is where Arthur finally breaks down his final wall and truly opens himself up. Celestine always saw Arthur as a more than worthy king and always saw the best in him... and that's why Arthur always saw her (in the future) as his queen...

"Did I put too much characterization to a background character we only saw for less than 5 minutes in the anime?" YES, I DID!

"Was it worth it?" YES IT WAS!

(In the KBASW) Sir Arthur is the one who approves and legitimizes the "Star Allies" because if someone like him could be changed for the better... why can't this rag-tag group. Sir Arthur (in a sense) is the first "redeemed villain"...

It just took one person to see the good in him... I really can't wait to explore their relationship (Celarthur) more... I have something special planned for them in February. And I do want to explore Kit Cosmo & Arthur's friendship: it's really fun~

(The Star Allies are going to be the equivalent of the Knights of the Round Table in KBASW, but I'll explore that later...)

Hope you all stick around to see how the story unfolds...

[laugtherhyena]

OCs are a funny thing where you start off with this initial idea that you're pretty down for, but as you develop them a bit more and maybe even sit down to design them, you realize that they're giving off a different vibe or you come up with a different idea that seems more suitable for character. Bonus points if this is an old OC that you had when you were younger and they end up changing a lot over the years as you grow older and become more mature as both a person and a creator.

This is kinda what happened with my OC, Hiro, as she used to be this creepy kid that came back from the dead after a few decades and was okay with murder as a form of justice. But nowadays she's a kid that comes off as creepy when in reality she's just a depressed kid that's desperately in need of help and support in a time where everything had changed since she's been dead for a few decades and is struggling to adjust to the modern setting after reviving herself. And she hates murder in general now. Her concept was still technically the same, it's just the surrounding details about her that changed a lot.

(Interesting to know that Hitaru was going to be a lot more spoiled and like her parents since she's never been abused like the rest of her siblings. It would certainly hammer home the idea of continuing the cycle one way or another, but I like who Hitaru is now. She's so sweet and I wanted to destroy Mrs. Nijiue SO BADLY the more I learned about her and her husband.)

THAT'S LIKE,, THE FUNNIEST INSTANCES OF THIS HAPPENING the oc does a 180 and becomes the complete opposite of the idea you crested them for in the first place, absolutely insane.

Yeah if i had kept her as an asshole it would show how sometimes the cycle just can't be broken but i think she's much more interesting the way she is not because it's surprising? In a way? Like, this is the oldest of the Nijiue siblings and the one born with a natural talent for arts so you'd expect that she would be treated the best by the parents and take after them due to that but Hitaru has it just as badly as her siblings and took it upon herself to not be like the parents and help them in the only ways she could while being in such a terrible situation. It's a nice break of expectations i think

Akemi also charged a lot from my original idea for the character, she was a lot meaner when i first created her for voidswap and genuinely looked up to the parents and wanted to impress them for the attention he never received from them, but then Mod Bubbles picked the siblings up for Asoot and it led to her becoming a much nicer and nuanced character which is really cool because i think that's the first time an oc of mine changed because of my friend's ideas rather than something stemming solely from me so that's fun

I guess we could include Beni in this list too, but also not really? Because Beni herself really hasn't had major changes to her character ever since creation, she's remained largely the same, i just added more and more stuff to her

Even her design has been pretty much the same ever since this first sketch lmao

The thing is that before she came into my mind i had this different idea for a character which was this girl who woked at the foundation's police division alongside Ryutaro and Keisuke and she was this scaredy cat type character that was always stressed and hated her job, but I wasn't super into the idea and the design i had in mind just looked a lot like Maki + i wanted someone that could have some form of connection to the Dra so cue to me remembering Kanata had a younger siblings and coming up with Beni after i checked the list just to be sure

(Also dude do you have posts of any kind about Hiro and whatever world she comes from? It's such an interesting concept I'd love to hear more about it 👀)

[kagedbird]

TESSDE AU (+ Taliesin) Continuation from this

Allora: *hums as she finishes checking her bag for all her supplies, stowing it on her waist and thigh again and adjusting her newly acquired Thieves Guild gear- including the hood- and smiles at the Thieves Guild members watching her like a hawk* Thanks for the new clothes! They're pretty comfy. Hopefully no one gets the idea to try and steal them off of me again. Who knows what would happen~? Brynjolf: *sitting off to the side, covered in bruises, a burn on his right hand, a broken left wrist, and a split lip as he's tended to by Rune* ... Allora: So! I'm afraid I'm not so well versed in your trade. Mind letting me know the idiots who tried to buy me? Vex: We're not telling you shit. You should honestly be dead for what you did to Brynjolf-! Brynjolf: Easy, lass. Don't get her started again. We got lucky when we caught her off guard. Allora: Aw! He's learning. *gives a fake giggle, holding her head up on the table with a wide smile* The rest of you should too, if you know what's good for you! Sapphire: *rolls her eyes* Yeah, I bet. Look, you don't scare us, so cut the crap. Allora: *pouts* Oh nyo, I'm nyot scawwy to da big bad thieves? Whatever will I do~? Thrynn: *sneers* Mocking us isn't helping get you any answers. Allora: Being nice didn't stop people from trying to murder me, or prevent you from kidnapping me for gold. Piss off. *flips him off* I'd suggest you hurry up before my guards come. I won't be able to stop them. They're quite bloodthirsty. *grins wide* Delvin: *having been silently watching the entire time, noting the smallest trembling in her hands that she's been actively covering up by moving them around a lot* ...They didn't give us a name. Vex: Delvin! Delvin: Hush. She's an important person, and the people said to make sure she's unharmed. We can't do anything; our hands are tied. They failed to alert us what she could do, so they'll be charged regardless. Allora: *sits up straight, recognizing him as a leader of this group* Finally, someone with sense. My name is Allora White, pleasure to meet you. Delvin: Delvin Mallory. Those people who tried to buy you- they didn't have much of a name. Just asked for the Dragonborn, and well. You're the only one we've heard about. Allora: Any descriptions? Pitch in voice, notable ticks, specifications when asking for me other than to not be harmed? Delvin: One female and two men. The men didn't say anything, just stood there. The woman in particular was looking for you. She also made mention of one of the men that follow you around- big one with a tattoo? Allora: Kaidan... Delvin: That's the one. Said he'd come running to find you once she had you. Don't know what love triangle yer in missy, but I think you'll be all right. Allora: ...How much did she pay you? Delvin: A whoppin' one thousand gold. Pretty price on yer head there, lass. Allora: *reaches into her satchel and tosses a bag of gold onto the table* Two thousand, and you keep me informed on when that woman comes back. And you don't tell her anything about Kaidan. Delvin: *arches a brow, looking at the bag. Nods to Tonilia to grab it and look through it* Deal. Pleasure doing business with you. You sure you don't want this line of work? Seems you'd fit in well enough. Allora: *lets out a laugh as she stands from her seat* Oh I'm far too loud. And I'm a good girl. *throws them a smile as she turns away* I'm off to go find my boys. I'll do my best to keep them off your trail, so long as you keep your end of the deal. Wouldn't want your pretty home in ruins, now would we? Delvin: Rune, lead her outside through the back door. *watches them leave, speaking quietly towards Brynjolf* Damn shame she won't come join us, ey? Brynjolf: *sighing as Rune pulls away from fixing a splint over his wrist to race after Allora* Aye. Tried once before. She's firm in her decisions- and her body. Delvin: *shakes his head as he turns away* You can think of nothing else, can you?

[Next one here]

[valkyrietookmoved]

Tablet decided not to charge at night again god dammit... At least it's not a full day and this time it's at 20% and not fucking 2%

[tigre-edi-rawr]

The beginning.

November 9, 2021. All it took was a simple "Heyaa" in a private message to start it all. I made a joke about how a Ramos from the past had previously wounded me, and you responded jokingly, "change name na ko." Then I discovered you're a seaman. I knew right away that I shouldn't develop romantic feelings, that I don't do long-distance relationships, and that I'd told you that. You didn't reply after that. You left my messages seen for four days.

November 13, 2021. I saw your message. "Gooodmorning. Naalala kita hahaha dumaan ako ng cabuyao. Dito me Nuvali ngayon" then you asked "Can I see you before going home? Daanan lang kita." I was weirded out tbh haha, but I refused politely. "Okay maybe some other timeeee just wanna make myday meaningful." I realized now that if I agreed to meet you at that time, we wouldn't be able to talk for long. Maybe I'll lose interest if you give me the impression that you're looking for a relationship and I'm not. Or that you're so into me that it's creeping me out. I was talking to several men at the time, and I didn't even notice you that much. My focus is never solely on a single man.

Everything happened so quickly. I can only recall how I began to like you through chat. The more you speak, the more I want to know you. The more I learn about you, the more I see myself wanting you. You're one-of-a-kind. You're a giant mold of all my desires. The way you think, the words you use, your life perspective, and the way your brain works. I've never met anyone like you. It's astonishing how genuine you are while also being perfectly suited to me. It's driving me insaneeeee!

I remember wanting to try ukay-ukay shopping, and you said you'd come with me. At the time, I imagined us wearing matching outfits, acting silly together, and laughing. I was ecstatic to be able to do so. I was even planning what to wear because I wanted to look nice.

Then, it happened. Us.

November 20, 2021. It had been a long day. I went shopping for our home's supplies, cooked meals and did my laundry. I remember being so sleepy because I was exhausted. But then we started talking about going to the beach, and you invited me to join you and your friend's outing. I was feeling a lot of emotions... thrilled, elated, and gratified. I was also concerned because I could feel my body heating up. I'm not sure if it's safe or you are somewhere I can be safe. But I knew I wanted to come because I wanted to see you. I want to get to know you in person. That's why I agreed; I was waiting for a concrete plan. However, plans have changed. We were going on our trip, just the two of us. At a hotel resort, I never even heard before. It was crazy. I was feeling a lot of crazy. But I was ecstatic as fuck.

An hour of jeepney ride... I can't help but think about what would happen, or maybe I should sleep during the ride to rest my brain.

When the jeepney dropped me off at SM Calamba, I looked everywhere, but I couldn't find you. I walked around, checking everyone, and you're not there. I remember thinking maybe it was all a prank, that I should head back home. My phone died so I can't contact you. I figured I'd give it one more shot and find somewhere to charge my phone. I was about to walk upstairs at the time when I thought I saw you inside SM Calamba. I looked again, and there you were. We were both smiling as we met halfway. I was embarrassed and didn't know what to say.

You're astonishingly tall. I'm not sure why I can't stop staring at you; maybe it's because I'm used to being the tall one. You look so neat, so young. You're so close I can smell you. Don't even get me started on your voice, which is both cute and manly. It sounded gentle but manly. I recall feeling unkempt when I stood or walked next to you. It was a strange sensation as if I were ugly.

I'm not sure what it is about being in a grocery store with you that makes me happy. The spark was present. We did buy food, mostly yours because I only chose one snack. But I want to remember the best moment I had with you in Calamba. You treated those tricycle drivers as if they were your friends, and you knew how to make them laugh. It felt good. I knew you were a decent man, but it left me speechless. You come across as cool and entertaining.

[aros001]

Going in blind: Watching season 1 for the first time. Random thoughts.

This show is kind of nice because I have no memories of the original She-Ra show, or even any of He-Man, honestly. I'm not sure if I ever watched the original, so I have no frame of reference for how the series is "supposed" to be. I can just take it and judge it as is.

Of the bat, all I know is that supposedly She-Ra and Catra get together as a romantic couple later, but I'm also a huge My Hero Academia fan and the fandom around me ships every character with every other character, so for all I know that might just be shipper wishful thinking I've been seeing and hearing. Given fandoms for Gravity Falls, Thor, and Supernatural ship even siblings together, I've learned not to trust anything except for what I see in the series for myself.

By the way, this isn't a review, just random thoughts and comments I'm having as I'm going through season 1 for the first time.

Episodes 1 and 2: Right off, I really like Catra's "No duh" response to Adora about the truth of the horde. She knows they've been lying to them and have been doing terrible things, she just doesn't care. If she and Adora play their cards right they could end up being the ones in charge and then they'd have all that power. Not necessarily to make things better but enough to where they could do whatever and live however they want. That's a good build for an antagonist. Not ignorant to the fact what they're doing is wrong, just simply so selfish that they don't care.

Episode 3: It really feels like there was no good reason why Glimmer didn't just outright introduce Adora to her mother and every reason she should have known it was a bad idea to try and hide her for a surprise. Being a former horde soldier she'd probably get treated with hostility if Glimmer brought her to the front gate but you'd almost guarantee Adora would get arrested or outright killed if she got caught while no one else knew she was there.

On the other side, we have Hordak being pretty intelligent in promoting Catra. He probably knows Shadow Weaver already doesn't like him, so it's not like he's losing anything making her upset with him, and it's clear she favors Adora way more than Catra, so that little bit of advancement towards Catra probably goes a long way in earning her loyalty to him and a person on the inside with Shadow Weaver.

Also, I'm not the only one who saw Madam Razz and immediately thought Adora had found her Yoda, right?

Episode 4: I don't know how it was in the original She-Ra and He-Man series but I kind of like She-Ra being this title from legend. Adora is not the first She-Ra, given what Razz was talking about with a Mara, so instead of being something new, impressing everyone with abilities they've never seen before, and creating the legend, Adora is placed in a position WAY over her head where she's having to live up to what came before her.

Episode 5: Calling it now, as long as her personality is genuine I think Scorpia is going to be one of my favorite characters in this show. She's...endearing, I think is the best word. She's like a mix of Kronk and a nicer Shego.

For a little bit I thought Mermista was voiced by the same actress who played Poison Ivy in the Harley Quinn animated series. She's not but they do have the same kind of Daria-ish inflections, thus by confusion. Given the prom episode, Sea Hawk feels kind of like her Kite Man.

Episode 6: Okay, now it's between Scorpia and Entrapta who are likely to be my favorites by the end of this. She's fun and quirky.

Episode 7: Quite the lore drop. Shadow Weaver was once a Mystacor sorceress known as Light Spinner. I like to imagine we'll get more on that later. Her haunting Adora reminded me of the Teen Titans' episode where Robin was similarly haunted by Slade. This didn't go as far as that but that's probably for the best, since TT had two and a half seasons to build that dynamic up with Robin and Slade while we're only now halfway through the first season.

Episode 8: Well dang. Again, I don't know for sure if Adora and Catra do end up together but boy do I buy why they're shipped together after that dance. Also, good on Bow for standing up for himself. It's clear that he'll always be Glimmer's friend and this won't change that but that doesn't mean he has to just accommodate her. I understand where her issues stem from but I am still glad he gave her a reality check. It helps him feel a little more like his own character.

Also, another nice little bit of lore and worldbuilding. Scorpia's a princess, the horde landed where her people lived, and they seemed to join them willingly.

Episode 9: Surprisingly don't have a lot to say about this other than I don't buy for a second that Entrapta is dead (EDIT: She's not). This was mostly action.

Episode 10: Not going to lie, this one kind of annoyed me a little, at least the first half. The conversation between Glimmer and her mother saved it a bit. It was a bit of a trifecta. You have the alliance breaking apart, saying that the loss of Entrapta only happened because they were all together...even though Entrapta only "died" because of her own machine obsession that caused her to deliberately walk back into the purging chamber. You have Entrapta who might be turning to the horde's side because she feels abandoned by the other princesses...even though they thought she was dead, and again it was her fault they got separated. And you have Glimmer refusing to tell her mother that Shadow Weaver's dark magic has caused her powers to go on the fritz and is causing her great pain. It just feels like none of this would be an issue if most of these people would stop being self-absorbed for three seconds and talk like any normal person would. It feels very CW drama, like something I'd see in a bad season of Arrow or The Flash. The only person whose issues I buy is Adora, who is basically a soldier who was never properly raised to deal with emotion or loss and is already struggling with the burden of being She-Ra, the legendary savior. I get why she's beating down on herself for not being able to do more even if nothing that happened was her fault.

Episode 11: JEEEEEEEEEZZZZ, that was such a good episode! Focused entirely on Adora and Catra and their past together. Like, just showing someone this episode alone could probably get them to want to watch the series. That was everything you needed to know about their dynamic and history together.

Also, that moment when Catra and her past self are looking at each other, while obviously Catra takes the opposite lesson, it reminded me of this fanart I'd once seen of Jason Todd, the Red Hood, looking at his past self as Robin. The past says to the future "You ruined everything". Catra could be happy but, ironically for someone who hates Shadow Weaver, she's probably going to be a lot like her, sacrificing everything for power and ambition.

Given the way she looked, I'm guessing Shadow Weaver is either addicted to the power of the Black Garnet or she suffered some kind of past injury and its power is the only thing keeping her going. Or both.

Episode 12: I'll be honest, Swiftwind being able to talk kind of gobsmacked and I needed a moment to recover. What a great voice they chose for that character.

So She-Ra is kind of like the legendary heroes from Rising of the Shield Hero, coming from a long line of people chosen to wield the sword. I tend to dislike chosen one types of stories because I think prophecy takes a lot of weight out of the character's actions, so this and Avatar are more what I like. The MC is special but not the only one who's ever been special and they can still easily fail. Their destiny was only to be able to use the weapon, not that they would succeed in any specific purpose.

And dang, Catra's turn against Shadow Weaver happened faster than I thought it would but I'm not complaining. That great "This is what you've really been preparing me for" speech and Hordak, again, being an intelligent villain. "Oh, this experiment could net me a MASSIVE gain and all it could potentially cost me is this rock I already gave away to someone who lately hasn't been producing any results and has been consistently disobeying me. Yeah, I'm going to let this play out."

Episode 13: That was kind of a brutal fight between Adora and Catra. Not the worst I've ever seen even in other shows for this age range (Samurai Jack, for example) but those punches are connecting and those claws are leaving marks.

Also, maybe I'm just misunderstanding the exact situation but shouldn't the good guys' side be called the Resistance instead of the Rebellion? Being a rebellion would imply they are rebelling against an established power or rule over them, but the actual conflict we are shown is the established power and rule that is the kingdoms of Eternia resisting an outside force that wishes to establish a new order over them.

Season 1 verdict: I'm into it. I'm definitely more invested in the villains' side of things but that's not a fault of the series, that stuff is just way more geared towards me than the current princess stuff. I actively am at attention whenever the horde main characters are on screen. For the good guys it's mostly Adora and the She-Ra stuff I'm invested it. That isn't to say I have any real dislikes for that side. Bow especially I'm liking much more than I thought I might. He has kind of this gravitational pull around him. You will be his friend regardless of how much you might want to resist. He's definitely the rock for everyone else to hold onto.

Minor side note, kind of like Korra in Legend of Korra, I love how even when her powers aren't active Adora is shown to still be pretty strong physically with how easily she was lifting people up at the prom.

And I was right, Scorpia is my favorite side character.

On to season 2!

Original Reddit post: https://www.reddit.com/r/PrincessesOfPower/comments/nyll2e/going_in_blind_watching_season_1_for_the_first/

[random-fangirl003]

Notice Me - Nathan Drake

Fandom: Uncharted

Character(s): Nathan Drake, OCs, Sam Drake, Elena Fisher, Sully

Pairing(s): Nathan Drake x OC

Type: Oneshot

Warning(s): Cussing, Arguments, Pregnancy Mention, Teasing

Summary: Tired of playing second fiddle to Elena, Nathan's best friend decides to prove a point.

A/N: NEW TO THIS FANDOM, MIGHT GET STUFF WRONG!

Anyone who looked close enough, could tell that Savannah Grant was in love with Nathan Drake, and they could also see how much Nathan Drake loved Savannah Grant, but the two of them were as oblivious to their affections towards one another. So, they constantly spent time together, whether treasure hunting or otherwise, as best friends do. On the latest treasure hunt, Savannah had dug up information on the location of a map for Alaric's treasure, which was being sold in a charity auction, meaning that they would have to break in and steal it, or honestly bid on it, which was causing a bit of a dispute between the two best friends currently.

"No! No way!" Nathan huffs from where he's sitting, leaning back on two legs of his chair. "You can't just go into that auction unarmed and alone!"

"What?! I'm not strong enough to do it? Is that what you mean?!" Savannah demands, placing her hands on her hips.

"I never said that!" Nathan replies. "It's just too dangerous to go it alone!"

"Yet you had no problem sending Sully in alone, last time."

"That's different."

"How? How is it different, Nathaniel?! How is my going to an auction, while you do the exact see thing as last time, any different? In case you forgot, this is my treasure! I found it!" She growls, narrowing her eyes at him.

"It just is!" He replies as he stands up, pressing his hands on the table.

"If it were Elena, you'd have no problems with it!"

"That's different too! She's-"

"What?" She demands, cutting the treasure hunter off. "She's what? Stronger? Smarter? Prettier?"

"I never said any of those things!" Nathan yells, anger flushing his cheeks as she slams a hand on the table herself.

"You didn't need to." She growls as she presses off the table, her anger turning her vision red as she turns away. "I'm going! And if you're so fucking worried, I'll ask Michael to accompany me as my date!" She stalks off, leaving Nathan fuming behind her, Sully and Sam are off to the side of the room, completely forgotten.

"Michael?! How could she just invite that pompous, arrogant-?!"

"She is in charge, Nate. She's been doing most of the work this time." Sam points out, causing his brother to turn on him with wild eyes, raking a hand through his hair.

"But, he's played her so many times!" Nathan shouts as Sully holds up his hands.

"She's a big girl, she knows what she's doing." Her annoyance had bit at Nathan, and he knew she threw Michael's name into the fray, just to anger him, but he also knew that she would keep her word, and that jackass would be escorting her to the auction tomorrow evening.

"Doesn't mean I have to like it." Nathan retorts sharply, leaving the room. Elena and Savannah are sitting on the roof top patio in the hot evening sun of Southern Italy, where the blonde journalist is trying to calm the ginger treasure hunter down.

"Look, he didn't mean it like that, Vannah." Elena grasps her friend's hand. "You just have a tendency to go head first into things, without thinking them through."

"Seriously?! You just don't understand why I'm doing this, do you?!" Savannah exclaims, rage still burning in her words. "Nathan sees me as a burden! All I ever do is screw up, some way or another. I want to show that I'm worth being in this, being by his- I mean your guys' side."

"You don't always screw up," Elena shakes her head, patting Savannah's hand. "I mean, remember the time Nate didn't remember to write down the pattern to a puzzle in his journal, and you remembered it all, in order? Or how about the time none of us could speak that one language, uh-"

"Taushiro. I wouldn't have learned if I hadn't wanted to show up Nate." Savannah sighs, leaning into her fist.

"Exactly! You and Nate may fight, but you bring our the best in each other. You just have to understand where you both are coming from, ya know?" Elena's words make Savannah sigh again as she runs her other hand through her wild curls, pulling away her hand as she grimaces at the muck that always seems to find it's way there, due to the constant running, fighting, and everything else that is entailed with treasure hunting.

"I guess you're right." Savannah stands with a hesitant smile, heading towards the stairs, only to pause. "Elena, you don't happen to... like Nate, right?" She asks, looking at the blonde from over her shoulder.

"I, uh-" Elena pauses, and let's out a shocked laugh. "No, it's not like that. Nathan is like a brother, I mean once, yeah, I did. But, you know how it is, I mean-"

"Is it Sam?" She turns bright red at that, causing Savannah to giggle, shaking her head. "You might want to talk to him about that."

"Like you can talk?" The journalist teases, causing Savannah to scoff, entering their hotel room.

"Savannah, I-" Nathan starts as he walks over to her from the other room, but Savannah pushes past him.

"I need a shower, Nathan. Then to make a call." She slams the door to the room that she and Elena share, grabbing her toiletries, clothes, and a towel, before exiting her room to enter the bathroom, leaving Nathan standing in the hallway, stunned at her behavior.

The silent treatment continues through the night, and into the next day, where Elena and Sully go over the layouts of the mansion where the auction is being held, and the plan for the others, while Savannah spends the day getting ready. At half past eight, she finally leaves her room, entering the living room in a shimmering blue dress with a slit up her thigh, and silver high heels on. "God, my stomach is in knots." Savannah says as she walks over to the kitchenette, Nathan's mouth dropping open at the sight of her, Sam's and Sully's mouths aren't far along.

"Don't you look nice!" Elena says brightly as she pulls out supplies for a sandwich. "You are probably hungry."

"No, I'm in heels and a dumbass dress, that feels like I had to be slathered in Crisco to get into. I hate being unable to wear my boots, and clothes I can fight or defend in. You ever see someone ungraceful, who could dodge a bullet in a dress?" Elena shakes her head with a laugh, and starts to spread mayo over her bread.

"Well, eat before you go. You'll feel better." Elena says.

"No way, if I eat one bite, every seem in this thing will split open." Savannah says as she glances back at the dumbstruck men, who are watching her, instead of preparing for the night. "Are they alright?"

"You look like a girl!" Sam says, causing her to snort.

"I am a girl." She points out, causing Nathan to snap his mouth shut, slugging Sam in the arm.

"Yeah, but you don't look it!" Sam replies, causing Savannah to sigh, threading her fingers through the one long sleeve of her dress, feeling rather sheepish now.

"Well, you look lovely, Sav." Sully says, pressing out of his chair, before crossing to her with a cigar clenched between his teeth.

"Thanks Sully, I'd give you a hug, but Elena lent me her expensive perfume, I don't want to smell like cigarettes too, I'll smell like a hooker." She giggles at Sully's affronted expression, there's a knock on the door that silences them all. "That'd be Michael." She says, grabbing her clutch from the table by the door, and opening it to show a suave man in a tux, his black hair is slicked back, and he has a cocky smirk on his clean shaven face.

"V-V." Michael sweeps her up in a hug, causing her to let out a surprised laugh, hugging him back as Nathan grits his teeth, clenching a fist behind her. "How have you been, luv?" He asks as he pulls back to set her to the floor.

"Living one day to the next." She answers honestly, before walking over to grabbing her shawl from the chair beside Nathan, not even sparing him a glance as she walks back towards Michael. "Well, are we going?"

"Indeed," He grabs her hand, bringing it up to press a kiss to her gloved knuckle, before tucking it into his arm. "far well all, enjoy your evening." He bids, telling them all that Michael has no clue what is really going on as Savannah waves, closing the door behind them after, a sweep of her shawl over her shoulders. During the drive to the mansion, Savannah and Michael make polite conversation with one another, while back at the hotel the others are getting dressed, and preparing for the sting, while Nathan seethes in his anger.

Pulling up to the mansion, Savannah removes the invitations from her pouch as Michael rounds to the other side of the car, opening her door, before offering a hand to help her out of the car. Taking it, the ginger treasure hunter stares up at the manor, her green eyes wide as Michael chuckles, tucking her hand through his arm. "Are you sure you'd rather be here, than somewhere else for our date? I'm only in Italy for the weekend."

"Michael, you're my escort, this isn't a date." He fakes a wounded look as he walks her towards the door, where the guards study their invitations, and scan her purse, before allowing them in. The main foyer is full of people in fancy dress, the artifacts are spread out on the tables for examining, there is music, dancing, a grand chandelier, and a champagne fountain with flutes next to it for drinking. "Will you get me a drink? I want to look at the artifacts." Michael nods, giving her a teasing bow as she starts towards a table, pretending to be examining a golden plate as she pulls out a lipstick container from her purse. Pretending to put the lipstick on, she pulls the ear piece out of the bottom, sticking it in her ear, before smacking her lips together as she puts the lipstick away.

"Check check, Sav can you hear me?" Sully asks as she let's out a hum of acknowledge, though to others it might seem like she's humming along to the music.

"We're outside right now," Nate says, his voice a welcome distraction from the pit in her stomach. "I'm working on getting the passage under the mansion open for the others."

"V-V, luv?" She turns to the British ambassador as he walks over with two champagne flutes, offering her one as she bites her lip.

"Actually, I haven't ate yet. I really shouldn't drink on an empty stomach." She says, causing Michael to deflate as Nathan chuckles in her ear, causing her to struggle not to roll her eyes.

"No matter," Michael sets the flute on a passing waiter's tray, tucking her hand into his arm again. "I do wish you had mentioned something, I would have made sure you ate before we had come."

"I'm alright." She says as they both start to wander around, her looking for the artifact that hides the map, and Michael watching Savannah's expressions and mannerisms.

"Savannah, I need you to open the servant's door leading to the kitchen." Nate's voice is in her ear, making her swallow thickly as she glances at the clock.

"Michael, I'm going to go to the bathroom and fix my make-up-"

"Ah, luv, no need, you are beautiful, as always." Michael reaches up to brush a wild curl from her face, and she blushes.

"Oh please." Nathan says in the ear piece, making Savannah's face to crumple, and Michael frowns.

"What's wrong?" She shakes her head, forcing herself to smile convincingly.

"My stomach is eating itself. I'm going to pop into the kitchen and grab something."

"Are you sure that's wise?" Michael asks, grasping her hand as she pulls away, and she looks back at him.

"I'll ask permission if anyone spots me." She gives a teasing grin. "Besides, mister ambassador, I remember the two of us having quite a bit of fun sneaking around, while we were younger." Michael chuckles, rubbing his neck as Nathan makes a gagging sound in the mic as Savannah struts away, her path towards the kitchen dead ahead. Slipping into the kitchen is fine, the servants merely sent questioning looks, though seeing her attire they left her alone, most guests were allowed to do as they wished, as long as they caused no trouble. The area around servant's door to the kitchen was abandoned, but she was careful when resting upon the wood, her back flat against it as she looked around, watching the servants carefully as she unlocked and opened the door.

"Finally!" Nathan groans as he enters, dressed to the nines as she glares at him, holding out her hand for her pistol- with Nate, shooting was never far behind. He hands the weapon to her, making her throw back the skirt of her dress from the slit, and slide the gun into the holster on her leg, Nate's eyes trailing up and down her legs as she tugs the gown back into place.

"Have you found the artifact?" Elena asks, entering the kitchen in a waitressing outfit.

"The map is in the vase, like I thought. Lot number 31." Savannah says, holding out a stolen apron from a kitchen cart. Elena pulls on the apron, tying up her hair as Sam ties the apron behind her back, he's in his own waiter outfit, and Sully is obviously waiting in the car for their getaway.

"Do we need the vase?" Sam inquires, causing her to roll her eyes.

"The map is in the vase." She replies, making him frown. "It's also from the year Alaric died, we might need it- it could contain a clue, or be part of a puzzle, so yes. It's not a very big vase, and it's more than likely full of dirt, considering it looks like an urn, but the marking indicate that it isn't."

"So, we're stealing the map, vase and all." Nathan replies, and Savannah looks at him, before frowning.

"You're supposed to be a waiter."

"I couldn't find a uniform in my size, so I knocked out a guest, and stole his clothes." She wrinkles her nose, attempting to hold back a giggle as Nathan smiles. "I'm a guest now."

"Well, Michael knows who you are, so if he asks why I didn't come with you, tell him the truth. We're fighting." She states.

"Are we really?" Nathan asks, causing her to glare at him. "You are beautiful tonight... so beautiful." He says softly, causing her to blush as she looks away, shuffling a bit until Sam clears his throat, looking up as Elena elbows the older of the Drake brothers in the stomach, she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, and starts towards the party.

"Show time." Elena says into the ear piece, making Savannah paste a smile on her face, exiting the kitchen alone. She heads over to Michael, an apology on her lips as he smiles at her.

"Sorry, I had to meet Nate at the door. We're fighting, but he insisted on coming." Michael frowns as he glances around, probably for Nathan, as Savannah smiles up at him. "I'll take that champagne now." He nods his head, grabbing her hand to tuck it into his arm, before escorting her towards the champagne fountain.

"I hope he doesn't interrupt our time again, tonight. I have missed you V-V." She forces herself to continue to smile.

"Gross. Watch, next he'll say he wants to get back together." Nathan hisses in her ear as she takes the flute of champagne from Michael, sipping on it the bubbling drink.

"I mean it, V-V, my love. I made a mistake, I wish to be with you once more." Savannah chokes, spitting her drink right in Michael's face, coughing out an apology as Elena, as a waitress, hands him a napkin from her apron. Savannah takes the other napkin, dabbing at her chin as Elena shoots her a sympathetic grin, walking behind Michael to hover.

"I-I am so sorry." She coughs, shaking her head. "I didn't mean to-" He wipes his face with the napkin.

"No no, you didn't do anything wrong, luv." Elena pretends to stick a finger down her throat behind him. "I merely chose the wrong moment to speak my mind." He continues to wipe his face as she sets the drink down.

"I-Look, Michael, you really hurt me last time, you took advantage of my heart and my feelings, and I just- I just felt that I could never love again. You know how difficult it was for me to trust you, the only other person I could ever trust like that, was Nate." Michael clears his throat, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"So, you have turned me down. My heart is now the one to have been played."

"Michael, I never said this was a date, and I never implied that we'd be in a relationship. I needed an escort, that is all. And, as a friend, I thought we could-"

"You've still rejected me!" Michael says, anger in his voice.

"Shh, please, don't make a scene." She begs softly.

"Can I at least be told why? Am I not man enough? Did I hurt you too much?"

"No, that's not it. Well, it's sort of it, but I just-" She bites her lip, looking around. "I just-"

"She's with me." She jumps at the feeling of a familiar arm falling around her waist, pulling her tightly against the person's side, and she looks up to see Nate. "We've been fighting, so I asked her to at least, if she didn't want me to come, invite someone she knew could be trusted, to escort her tonight. What can I say? We fight, but I love her." Savannah's heart pounds and sputters at those words, making her blush as Michael looks at her for confirmation, and she freezes, then slowly nods.

"I see. As far as I can tell, you've made up quite well, and I shall be on my way." Michael bows, walking away with arrogance in his stride as she glances back up at Nate, before she pushes him away a bit.

"I had that!" She snaps, causing Nate to roll his eyes.

"Not from what I saw. Elena was about ready to pour champagne on the guy, to get him to leave." Rubbing her arm, she swallows thickly, glancing at Elena, who is handing out drinks to guests, and she sets her own down.

"So, you decided to play the noble hero and sacrifice yourself for the greater good of the mission?" She scoffs, roll her eyes as she walks away. Nathan grabs her by the wrist, turning her back to him.

"Hey, I never said that! What the hell is with you lately?" Her face falls as she jerks her wrist from his grasp.

"Let's just finish this mission, and I will be out of your hair for good!" She snaps, stalking off towards the artifact, waiting until everything goes dark, and her night-vision contacts come flooding to life, allowing her to slink silently to the table. She quick in grabbing the vase from the table, before hurrying towards the kitchen door. Just as she slips inside, Nathan, and Elena right on her tail, the foyer floods with light again. Tossing the vase to Nathan, who hides it in his pocket, Sam meets them at the servant's door, the four of them exiting without anyone noticing. Or so they thought.

"So, hey," Nathan whispers as they slink through the mansion. "what did you mean by out of my hair "for good"? Are you leaving after this hunt?" She glares at him as she takes measured steps, ignoring his question.

"Who goes there?!" A guard shouts, causing her to flinch at the sound of her heels hitting the floor, and Nate turns his flashlight on them. "The wind?" The guard asks, causing her to glance at the guard from behind the pillar, watching him walk away. Her breath stutters in her relief as she stands flush against the stone pillar, the others are just as quiet around her.

"Take them off, Sav!" Elena whispers in a rush, causing Savannah to nod.

"I'm on it." She shuffles nearly silent as she struggles to get the heels off, then she tosses them to Sam, who hurriedly catches them, before padding up to the guard as he turns back towards them, his flashlight barely hits her toes, before she swings her arm up. Driving her elbow into the guard's head, she knocks him out as he drops to the floor like a sack of rocks, his flashlight rolling across the floor. Nathan whistles softly, impressed as he drags the unconscious guard behind a flower box to hide him, and the four of them continue on their route.

"Are you going to answer me?" Nate asks after a few minutes of silence, then as they round another corner, she just shoots him a glare.

"Now is not the time, Nathan." She retorts as the whistling of a bullet goes past her head, skimming across her cheek as it blows her hair past her eyes, and they all turn, Nathan pushing Elena behind the nearest cover as Savannah dodges another bullet, dropping behind cover. The darkness provides ample cover as she pulls out her gun, and she nods to Nathan, who in turn nods to her, the two of them taking turns to pop out of cover to shoot, not a single word said between them, while Sam scouts ahead.

"How about now?!" Nathan asks as he presses against the pillar, reloading as Savannah pops out of cover, shooting one of the guards in the shoulder, making the guard scream as he falls.

"No, Nathan!" She replies, shooting down another guard. "Why does it always end in a firefight with you?"

"Brilliant question! Let's ask them next time." Elena says as Nathan pops out of cover, firing as Savannah drops back into cover, reloading her gun.

"Are you leaving?!" Nathan asks as he fires one last round, and the final guard falls, the three of them standing as Sam pops up from the route ahead, beckoning them silently. "Hey," Nathan grabs her hand, tugging her to a stop as Elena and Sam continue on ahead. "are you?"

"Nate-"

"Don't Nate me! Are you leaving? Are you done after this?" Nathan asks, his face is sad.

"I-I don't know." She answers truthfully, looking at the ground. "I just don't know." She pulls away, starting towards the exit, followed by Nathan. Sully is as quick a get away as always, the four of them are in the car with the door barely closed, before Sully is peeling out of the mansion gates, the guards start to pile out of the mansion, guns firing. "Heads down!" She shouts, pushing Nate's head down as she drops her head into his lap, a bullet piercing the back window, and out the front. Sully drives like a mad man, swerving and stopping and driving in and out of alleyways and places where a car can barely fit, Nate's arms are around Elena, making Savannah feel bad as she struggles to stay in her seat from the jostling, unable to latch her seatbelt, unlike the others. The bridge on the way to the hotel starts to lift up before them, and Sully clenches the wheel, gunning the engine.

"Hold on!" Sully shouts, driving off a bridge as she let's out a scream, Nathan's eyes go wide when he sees her flying from her seat, his arms reaching out to catch her, jerking her into his lap as Sully lands on the other side of the bridge, and the guards chasing them have no choice but to stop as Sully speeds away. She gasps, clinging to Nathan's arms that are secured firmly around her, heart pounding for two different reasons as Nathan murmurs calming words in her ear, stroking her arm. Nathan holds her shaking form all the way back to the hotel, where Sully swerves around the back, into the underground parking space, allowing Sam to help Elena out as Sully climbs out, Nate muttering that the older man is a "son of a bitch" as he unbuckles, pushing Savannah into a sitting position as he slides out of the car. She sits still as a stone, her heart pounding so hard that it aches, and her eyes wide from the terror flushing from her veins, she doesn't even notice Nathan opening her door, turning her around as he places a warm hand against her cheek.

"Sav? Hon? We're back." Nathan murmurs, causing her to blink, sucking in a sharp breath as she looks around, head jerking from one direction to the other, before she slowly climbs out of the car, her bare feet touching the ground for barely a moment, before Nathan sweeps her into his arms, Bridal style.

"N-Nate?" She asks in confusion.

"You're still a bit shocked, right?" He closes the car door with his shoe, following the others to where they disappeared into the hotel, and when they return to their hotel room, nobody says anything while Nathan whisks Savannah away to his bedroom. "You've got a bit of blood on you," Nathan says as he comes back from the bathroom with a damp rag, having set her on the foot of his bed. "I also grabbed some bandages for your feet. You didn't say anything, but you probably have blisters on your ankles from those heels, huh?" Savannah looks away, sheepishly as Nate scrubs at her elbow, where she can already feel a bruise under the blood, from knocking that one guard out, and then he moves to her cheek, where the first bullet had barely gazed her. He hadn't said anything, but his heart about stopped when he heard and saw that bullet coming at her, and while he pushed Elena down, he had wanted to tackle Savannah to the ground, and shield her with his entire body. "You were shot."

"I'm fine." She answers truthfully, he drops the rag, his hand coming up to cup her cheek, before she looks at him, eyes finally focusing. "I am, Nate." She covers his hand with her own, causing him to lighten up on the pressure, taking a deep shaking breath. "I'm fine." He leans up, pressing a kiss to her forehead, before he pulls back to kneel, taking her foot to clean it, before placing a bandage over one of her heels, where a blister is. He does the same with the other as she let's out a soft sigh, looking out the window beside the bed. "You were reckless tonight." She says, causing him to glance up at her, she realizes that he's shed the jacket of his pilfered suit, and he is now fiddling with the strap to the holster on her leg. "I understand that you're worried about Elena, but how many times has she been through this?"

"I don't know what you mean." Nate says defiantly as Savannah sighs.

"You were circling Elena like a guard dog, you wouldn't even give her a gun. It was an argument for her to even be allowed to join us on this mission!" Savannah pushes a stray curl from her face. "You know that she can take care of herself, she has more proved it, I just don't get why you suddenly have become so overprotective of-"

"Elena is pregnant." Nathan says as he sets her holster on the bed, looking up at her from where he squats, watching her press her lips together in a firm line, her eyes flicking across his face to determine if he's telling the truth.

"She's... and are you-?"

"No!" Nathan scoffs, rolling his eyes at her implication. "Sam is." She snaps her mouth shut, smiling a bit as she shakes her head.

"And they didn't want to distract from the treasure hunt, so they hid the pregnancy and kept their relationship a secret." She rolls her eyes.

"You've been after this treasure for a couple years now. It's understandable on why they'd want to keep quiet if you finally got a lead." She huffs a curl of hair from her face, but it just drops back down, making her sigh as she pushes it back behind her ear.

"So, you aren't with Elena?" Nathan blanches at that, as if the idea makes him sick. "God, if someone had just told me that!" She groans, pressing her palms to her eyes. "I mean, Elena said there was nothing going on, but with how protective you've been, and reluctant you've been about treasure hunting, I just thought- I guess I dunno, that you guys wanted out, so you could settle down in peace? I thought maybe Elena told me what she told me, because you guys were trying to cut me out!"

"Never, Sav. You are my best friend." Nathan says as he stands, and she slowly rocks to her feet.

"Now, don't even try to lie to me about your relationship with Chloe, after we all separated from each other a couple years back." Nathan groans as he presses his face into his hand, shaking his head.

"You're never going to leave that be, are you?" He asks as she waltzes to the bedroom door, tugging the fraying hairband out of her flaming mane, letting the curls fly free.

"She dumped you in the end, didn't she? What happened there, Nate? You were a good match, the double agent and the blind buffoon." She teases as Nathan glares playfully at her.

"None of your business, huh? The only thing she was right about, is missing her ass." Nate retorts as she throws back her head, laughing as the first rays of the sun catch in her mane from the window, lighting it on fire as she slips out, ready to finally look at the map to Alaric's treasure, and get some sleep after being up and on the run all night.

It takes weeks of searching, clue after clue, until eventually they find the treasure- Elena and Sam had taken off almost a week previous, for the safety of the baby, and Sully had ducked a week before with the same excuse as always, "I'm getting too old for this shit!" and that left Nate and Savannah, still slightly at odds, left to chase the treasure. Of course, like all of the hunts involving the Drake boys, this one was a race to the vault, in the middle of a Southern Italian countryside, and lots and lots of guns. "Duck!" Savannah shouts at Nathan as she tosses a grenade over their cover, dropping down as the little ball rolls into enemy cover, and Nathan throws his hands out, slapping them over her ears as the explosion goes off, leaving his ears ringing.

"Think before you throw, Sav!" He hisses as he rubs at one of his ears, and she gives a sheepish grin as she leans around the stone they're behind, firing quickly at any stragglers.

"Ah shit!" She shouts, swinging back around to press against the stone, her hand gripping her shoulder of her dominant arm, gun having been dropped in her panic.

"W-What?" Nathan asks as he continues to fire, and she shakes her head.

"No, it's nothing. Keep shooting." She says as she reaches into a pocket of her cargo pants, ripping a bandage from the pocket, and sliding her shirt sleeve up, her hand pressing the adhesive bandage to the bloody wound. "Are you ready to move ahead yet?" She asks, shouldering her shotgun after she grabs it, and Nate looks at her, spying the blood smeared down her arm.

"Sav, are you okay?!" He asks worriedly, causing her to nod, wincing noticably, making him give her a look that says he's not buying it.

"I'm fine, let's just get to the treasure vault." She rolls out of cover, back flush against a barrier that one of the enemies had setup, before she glances around the corner, then clambers to her feet with her shotgun holstered, her dominant arm useless while injured. Picking up a fallen enemy's pistol, she checks the clip, before she slides it back in, cocking the gun, readying to shoot as they move through the countryside.

"Are you sure you don't want me to take a look at that?" Nate asks as he watches blood seep through the white bandage and the green of her shirt. "You might need stitches." She shakes off his hand when he reaches for her arm.

"I'm fine, Nate! Let's just get to the vault." She says again, making Nate groan, chasing after ambitious young woman as they duck around passages, shooting a couple more enemies, and solve a couple more riddles, before they both enter the vault, where the leader of their enemies- Michael himself (honestly, why is she not surprised?), is stalking back and forth, flaunting and rambling his victory to the rest of his men.

"-this wealth, nobody would dare to reject me again!" He booms as they press against nearby pillars, and Nate shoots her a look.

"You dated this guy? What does he have performance issues that he needs to compensate for?" Nathan hisses as she rolls her eyes.

"I wouldn't know, we never went that far." She reaches into a pocket of her pant, pulling out silencers for their pistols, one of which she tosses to Nate. They waste no time screwing the silencers onto their guns, before she lurches around a cover, and a muted shot leaves her gun, striking one of the men on the balcony above in the middle of the forehead, he drops dead as she leans back into cover.

"Nice shot." Nate whispers as she blushes, watching him do the same from his place, they are silent at picking off the men on the balconies above the vault as the other men start to carry out the treasure, the opposite direction of where the treasure hunters are.

"With this, I can make her pay, make them all pay!" Michael rambles, unaware of his men dropping dead around him, until they've all been picked off. Putting away her pistol, she shoulders her shotgun, training it on Michael as Nathan watches her back.

"Michael!" The British ambassador turns, eyes wide as he sees her. "What've you done? Why are you here?"

"Ah, V-V, my luv. I see you've brought... your friend." He grimaces at Nate, before looking back at her. "I figured that since you had an interest in this treasure, perhaps you might be willing to come back to me, if I had it first. I had planned on telling you back in England, but you were a saucy minx, and hot in my trail. I needed to move quickly."

"What happened to you?" She asks as Michael gives her a crazed grin.

"Love, my darling. It does things to a man, things he never thought possible." Michael trains his gun on Nathan, making her freeze as she looks back him, seeing Nathan freeze as two big guys come in, grabbing him by the arms after wrestling the gun away from him, one kicks it towards Michael, making her eye it as she throws down her shotgun, she knows the drill by now. "Now, I will give you a choice- it's not a hard one. Come with me, and live in the lap of luxury and be my wife. Or, choose Mr. Drake over there, and die with the man you love."

"What?!" She barks, looking at Nathan, who shakes his head, urging her to not sacrifice herself for him. "You can't be serious, Michael! You can't just kill him, f-for-"

"I can and I will!" Michael booms, his shout making her flinch as she glances at Nate, who watches her in fear. A plan forms in her head as she turns to Michael, and she starts to edge towards him a bit.

"Michael," Her voice falling into a more sultry tone as she sways over to him, making the Brit grin sickeningly sweet.

"Sav, what're you doing?!" Nathan exclaims as she turn to him, pinning him with a glare, before discreetly shooting Nathan a wink, before she wraps her arms around Michael's neck.

"Oh, Michael, can't you tell when a girl is playing hard to get?" She asks, running a finger up the ambassador's chest, causing the man to purr as he wraps his arms around her, and she rests her head against his chest. "I had Nathan fake being my boyfriend at the party, to make you jealous. You're so sexy when you're jealous." She swallows the rising bike in her throat as she leans up on her tip toes as Michael grins, leaning down with their lips hovering near each other, until he freezes as she buries the pistol into his stomach, making him freeze. "Call them off." She hisses as he glances up at her, before he looks at the man, then waves the men off, and they drop Nathan, who dives for his gun, turning to sink a bullet between both the men's eyes. "Now, we are leaving-" She let's out a choked noise as something sharp sinks into her side, pain lancing through her side.

"NO!" Nathan let's out a panicked shout as Michael pushes her away, and she stumbles back, her hand coming to her side to press against the soaked material of her shirt. She looks up, seeing a blade glistening with her blood, in Michael's hand as her knees become weak, she falls to the floor as he brings the blade up, licking the gleaming silver with a disgusting hum. Nathan let's out an enraged scream, unloading the remaining clip of his gun into Michael's body with a scream. "No no no no!" Nate murmurs quickly as he scrambles over to her, once Michael's body collapses, dropping to his knees to press his callus covered hands on her side, making sure to put pressure against her wound as he looks around. Eyeing the only other exit, he lifts her into his arms, following the trail that the looters took, leaving her behind a cover as he takes out the rest of the men on the only truck, which is loaded with gems and gold.

"N-Nate," She calls weakly as he rushes back to lift her into his arms, the world is blurry as she looks around, letting out a whimper when he starts to run, jostling her wounds. "Nathan-" She whimpers, and he shushes her as he lays her in the front of the truck, buckling her up.

"You're fine. You'll be fine!" He repeatedly says, turning the key in the ignition, gunning it through the trees, gravel spitting everywhere as she groans at the jerking movements of the truck. "I'm sorry, Sav. I know sweetheart, I know. I know it hurts, but it'll be okay, you'll be okay." He promises as he starts towards the small town they were staying in now, not far from the vault as he starts making calls while he pulls into town. He barely has the truck in park, key out of the ignition, before he rounds to her side, climbing into the giant truck to lift her, carefully, out of the truck, yelling at the townies for the doctor.

Days now move sluggishly as he paces constantly outside of the medical clinic, his eyes flicking from his phone to the door, to the truck to back again. The treasure they had loaded into the truck was a good amount, but nobody knew except for Nathan, but he couldn't even focus with Savannah incapacitated. Sully, Sam, and Elena eventually make it to the town, if you could even call the practical village, a town, but the doctors still do not give any updates on Savannah's status, despite Nate constantly prodding and camping outside of the clinic every night and day.

"If she dies-! I-If I lose her-" Nate groans, running his fingers through his short hair.

"Nate, kid, relax. You ain't gonna lose her." Sully says from his spot on a crate, flicking his cigar.

"No, Sully, she was distracting him for me! She sacrificed herself, made herself vulnerable for me! So, I could escape. It's all my fault." Elena huffs as Nate's stalking back and forth before the door increases, his fingers digging against the root of his hair.

"I always knew that Michael was an off bastard, but this is sickening." Sam says as Sully and Elena both nod in agreement. "He licked her blood off the blade?"

"Yes." Nate replies, he remembers the look on Michael's face as he licked Savannah's blood off the blade, the disgust rolls through Nathan again at the memory of ecstatic look that Michael had on his face, from Savannah's blood on his lips. "He looked like an addict getting his fix."

"Like an addict getting his fix?" Elena shutters as she looks at Sam, who clenches her hand in understanding of her concern. "God, and Savannah once thought she was in love with that creep."

"Let's not talk about that." Sully says as Nathan runs his fingers his hair, tugging his hair at the roots as he groans, stalking up to the door to the clinic, fist poised to pound on the door, when it flies open.

"D-Doc?" Nate's voice is worried as the doctor wipes his hands off on a rag, tossing it over his shoulder.

"Your friend will live. We did not want to give you news until we were sure." The Doctor says as he looks at everyone, before he looks up at Nate. "You may see her, but only one at a time." The Doctor enters the clinic, leaving the door open as Nathan looks back at the trio that are looking at him.

"We can wait, Nate. Go see her." Elena urges, causing him to nod, ducking into the clinic towards the back room, where the Doctor had motioned him to be, and he pauses outside the door, before opening it to the room. The bed occupies Savannah's weak form, with bandages wrapping her shoulder and her stomach, up over her chest, so she is left in only her pants, and a threadbare blanket over her legs. Her long ginger mane is pinned beneath her, tied back with a strip of leather, and caked with sweat, congealed blood, and muck. Walking around the bed, Nate kneels on the floor beside her, grasping her hand that was resting on her stomach, his eyes down-turned as he rests his forehead against her hand.

"Sav," He sighs weakly, his thumb rubbing back and forth across her soft knuckles. "I am so sorry. For everything." He murmurs as he looks up at her. "I don't expect you to forgive me, but if you could just... I know the doctor said you'd be fine, but I need to to pull through. I need you to open your eyes, and show me that you'll be fine. I-it's been almost a week, so please, let me know that you're okay. Just open your eyes, Vannah." He groans as he runs a grungy hand over his face, then looks up at her face again. "You said that you wanted to leave, that you were done... can you please wake up, and tell me that you are done. Call me an idiot again. Anything. If you want to be done, we'll be done together, I promise. If you want to start a normal life, we can start a normal life together." He reaches up to caress her freckled cheek. "I can't live without you, Sav. I-I love you." He rests his forehead on her hand again, feeling exhaustion washing over him. "Did you hear me, Sav? I'm in love with you! So, just... open your damn eyes! Let me kiss you, or you can yell at me, you can slap me for all I care! Just wake up!" Nate pleads, clutching her hand tighter as he grits his teeth.

"Nate?" His head snaps up, but Savannah is still unconscious, causing him to turn, seeing Elena standing in the doorway, her eyes are sad. "I-I couldn't wait, I was so worried."

"It's okay," He clears his throat as Elena looks at Savannah, then back at Nathan.

"She loves you too, you know?" He furrows his brow as Elena smiles to herself. "She'd kill me by now, if she were awake, but you deserve to know." He runs his fingers through Savannah's hair, before he presses off the ground beside the bed.

"I'll be outside if-"

"No no no, you deserve to stay in here. Be the first thing she sees when she wakes up." Elena waves him off, pressing a hand to her back to stretch, after the last couple weeks, she's starting to show a bit. "Besides, Sam and I are going to head to the hotel, your niece or nephew is killing me."

"Alright," He pulls her into a hug, letting go the minute that he hears an agonized cry, turning to see Savannah's eyes wide open as she holds her side, while trying to sit up. "Sav!" He crosses to her side once more, easing her up off her elbow as she let's out a tearful whine. "It's okay, easy hon." He props the flat pillows up, leaning her back against them as he sits on the side of the bed, tucking a wild curl behind her ear.

"N-Nate?" She swallows thickly, causing him to grab his canteen off the belt, twisting the cap off, and placing it to her lips. She takes long pulls of the water, before turning her head away, wiping her mouth on her arm as Nathan chuckles, putting the canteen away. "Where are we? How long have I been out?" She murmurs, causing him to smirk.

"We're in the village, not far from the vault. You've been out for a week..." She looks at him questioningly, but he shakes his head. "The longest week of my life. I've missed your voice." He cups her cheek as she frowns.

"I'm so-"

"No. You didn't know." He leans forward, pressing his forehead to her own. "You just wanted me to be safe, I just wish you hadn't had to get hurt by that freak, in order to keep me safe." She looks confused as he pulls her close, kissing her deeply. She makes a noise of surprise, but falls into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"You don't know how long I've been dying for that to happen." She murmurs as she leans away, looking up into his blue eyes, seeing them spark with light after her words register with him.

"You have been?" He asks softly, causing her to blush, pressing her lips together in a firm line as she nods. "I'm in love with you, Sav. I have been for years."

"Really?" She asks softly, skeptical and hoping as he smiles, nodding. "You couldn't have told me, I dunno, before I almost died?" Nathan chuckles at her words, leaning in to kiss her again.

Hope I've done the characters justice, I'm seriously new to this fandom- like I just started watching a playthrough yesterday. But, Nathan is just so nnn. I couldn't not write a story. Anyways, I hope you enjoy, sorry if the characters are a little OOC.

[valcarolrights]

Call Me (Carol Danvers x Reader)

Something small I may take further based on feedback 👀 I'm new.

You were a little out of your depth. This was the first time your laptop had given in. None of your other laptops had died, it was just this stupid one that didn't want to charge.

You bit your lower lip as your eyes scanned the prices. They weren't bad but what if the charger wasn't the problem? You sighed deeply. You should've brought it with you to test it.

You frowned as you saw a woman a few feet away wearing an identical expression to yours as she looked over phones. She stood up straight and placed her hands on her hips, allowing some hair to fall over her eyes. You swallowed hard. She was beautiful.

It was as if she felt you staring and you felt like a deer caught in headlights as the two of you made eye contact. Your breath hitched in your throat. She was gorgeous.

You needed to think fast. "Prices for phones are ridiculous nowadays." you try, cringing at how thin your voice had become. "You pay a couple hundred extra just for the tiniest new feature on the next edition."

To your relief she smiles. "That sounds a lot like theft."

"It basically is. They improve the camera on the next one and make it work faster and suddenly your old one is useless."

"You sound like you know what you're talking about." she smirks and you step closer, proud of how far you'd come in the conversation.

"Yeah well you're looking at the owner of multiple phones. My phones have fallen in water, had broken screens, battery issues, the works. I'm probably a cell phone ambassador." you stop in front of her. "Wish I could say the same about my laptop. It just died." you mutter sadly. "The one week where I have news diaries ready days before the time and it decides not to charge so I can't retrieve my stuff."

"That does sound like a conundrum." she nods with a small smile before it grows. "Okay I don't know much about laptops but I know someone who does." she says, sparking your interest. "A few people actually. How about you help me choose a phone and I have someone look into your issue before you spend unnecessary money?"

You were stuck. A pretty girl practically offering to help you but in exchange taking your bread and butter into her personal care and someone else's when you barely knew her?

Fuck it. You could save money.

"Sure." you shrug. "It's a deal."

Her smile widens and you notice the little mole underneath her eye. "I'm Carol."

"Y/N." you give her hand a shake, getting lost in its warmth. "Well Carol, what's your price range?"

She shrugs and holds up a card. "I'm owed for saving some lives so let's go crazy?"

-

After getting Carol the brand new model, the two of you sit on the bench at the mall while you show Carol the basics of how to use a phone. You were shocked she couldn't but when she explained why (yes you were even more shocked that you just helped out a superhero), you understood and went slow with her.

"This is a lot to take in. And I deal with advanced technology on various planets every other week. How can I not understand a simple phone?" she asks with a pout, making your heart melt.

You chuckle before answering. "Some things are harder to learn than others." You shrug. "You'll get there soon enough."

"I hope so." the two of you make eye contact and you inhale sharply as her smile fades a little into words. "Would you um-like to get some coffee?"

Your eyes widen and you check your phone. You had to call some of your coworkers via Skype in an hours time to get stories rolling and explain how a journalist doesn't have a laptop. You didn't want to reject Carol but you didn't want any time with her to be rushed either.

She was different. Light. Funny. And you could see yourself hanging off every one of her words in the foreseeable future. So with a heavy heart, you apologized. "I'd love to but I have a meeting in a few." She nodded with a neutral expression before an idea popped into your head and your eyes lit up. "It's fine."

"But we can do coffee tomorrow maybe? We can text and try out your new phone?"

You could see the sparkle in her eyes as she opened her dialer pad, eager to save your number. You chuckled because as it was the twenty first century, you'd type it in yourself but it was her first number in her first mobile phone so you let it go.

After promising to text, you guys parted ways with soft smiles and eager eyes.

-

Your Skype meeting had ended with nothing new to report. You weren't sure if meeting the new addition to the Avengers was something to report but even if it was, you preferred to keep that information to yourself. You waited for Carol to text before slapping your forehead. She probably didn't know how to.

But she lived in the same compound as Tony Stark, he'd show her the ropes, right?

You hoped. You resorted to typing your latest task on Word on your phone and were halfway through before taking a break and going to the kitchen.

It was almost midnight when you returned with a sandwich and a frown because your phone was ringing and the call was from an unknown number. Normally, you'd let it ring but even with the late hour, the prospect of it being Carol crept into your mind and a smile on your face as you picked up the phone after clearing your throat.

"Hello?"

"Y/N." you smile at the softness of her voice. Carol. "I'm so sorry for calling so late. You said you'd be busy and I didn't want to disturb you so early and when I wanted to text, I realized I didn't know how. Most of the others are gone on missions so I was just struggling until I figured to call."

You giggled slightly. "I'm glad you did." you said genuinely. It felt like meeting her was a once in a lifetime, and there were so many things that could happen, you didn't want to live knowing you'd lost out on those opportunities forever.

"I didn't think you'd be up. I took a chance. I remember you said the late hours are your best hours?"

Warmth spread in your chest. "Yeah. Um was just working on a few things on my phone."

"I'm lucky I caught you then." she says, making you smile. "It's pretty late though. We can talk tomorrow morning. I'll call you."

"I'm proud of you for knowing how to call me."

"Yeah well maybe when we see each other again you can teach me how to text."

"No problem. We can do it over coffee tomorrow?"

"Sounds amazing." she agrees and at this point you're not sure if you can stop smiling. "Bring your laptop too, I didn't forget my side."

"I was hoping you wouldn't." you reply, wondering who she could've asked seeing as she wasn't as technologically savvy with earth electronics. "We'll discuss more details tomorrow?"

"I'll call you." she repeats with a soft tone. "Sleep tight Y/N."

"Sleep tight Carol."

[kidmachinate]

Choose In Silence, Share With Your Tribe

"Don't go into the computer."

Perhaps I'm not quoting this exactly as it was said to me, but it was a restriction. A restriction in which had I listened to it, I would not be as technically inclined as I am today. That said, I know my limits and there are people who know far more than I do. This became a running theme in my life. Being told no...as if to save me from something. The issue is that isn't one's decision to make.

Had I not dated x person, went to x location to get a good deal on craigslist, or went to x place to host a local gaming tournament, I wouldn't have learned some lessons that were required in my life to help shape me to be who I am today. Are you looking out for someone when making these suggestions or does it come out of self-interest? You'd be amazed how many times it is actually the latter. This includes our parents. You shouldn't watch that scary movie, they say. That's cool. I'll play violent games instead. If I don't have access, I have friends that will educate me. I turned out alright, so who were you REALLY protecting? Me? Not in this case. Sorry mom. Thank you Dad. Some of my best memories come from the stuff we watched together. Not a day goes by in which I think about how much I miss you. RIP Dad.

What might be worse? Forced narratives. Some people legitimately cannot get over themselves to the point where the either want to hold you back from experiences in your life, and/or hate others for the exact same flaws they have in themselves. There was a time in which I fought against this real hard. It still comes out from time to time. Now it is much easier to just let people think what they want and let things happen as they are meant to happen. 

Some like to say by not making a choice, you've made a choice. While this is true in many cases, I'd respectfully disagree as it isn't how my thought process works. Whether you're selling a product or yourself, if things aren't a good fit, why proceed? Nothing is certain in life. Wait. Gather intel. Figure out what you want...but simultaneously, you can find out exactly how they view you, regardless of what they say to your face. Let me give an example I'm not supposed to speak of.

How does one become respected for looking out for the regular worker vs who is in charge, bringing up morale and flushing out the problem, to eventually be shut out? A variety of reasons led to this, mostly work politics to keep it short. However, before the wrong people became in power and personal relationships/sales were valued more than the company workers and actual customers served, thing were good. People did not need to be or want to be ruled by an iron fist. Poor management doesn't allow this because they rather have people under their thumb. Make them feel good and secure. It also causes people to be unhappy and leave. Sounds like these types of managers should get a reality check and possibly counseling to help with unresolved issues. Why they must use people to carry out their agendas, because they forget where they came from, instead of maybe...just maybe, not forgetting where you came from and helping the very people you helped bring up instead of just barking orders.

I've made mistakes through anything referenced above at one point or another. It's how you learn. For the mistake I have made, I've heard a common thing in my places of work. For as much as I hate micromanagement, the shitty management style referenced above, I'm sure good apparently at...following directions. This loops back around to why I hate the management style however. Doing what you're told can still get you fired. Laid off. Whatever. Let's loop this back around shall we?

We all have to make choices. Some want to force these choices or make subtle hints at you to try and make you choose different. I'll choose as I want, thanks. The few who understand that, I see you. Because I watch instead of act. I see you. Make no mistake however, if I care at all, I'll still be there for you. We can all use a bit more compassion. Even if you feel rejected or distant from the world, this doesn't mean however that you can't give back or be accepting. Intent always wins...regardless if people directly or indirectly want to make you feel bad for it. Be you. 

Many things can be salvaged too. Saved. Recovered. The impossible is indeed possible...but silence doesn't work in this case. Pick your battles. Or don't. Just. Be. You.

[alchemisland]

The Moors Mutt - I

Part II coming on Tuesday!

I. Old Stone

The beast I knew only in folkloric snippets. Hedge whispers perverting history to arcana through time immemorial. Perhaps too I had known it in nightmares, shapeless until named, becoming then familiar as a bedchamber.

It was grim autumn when that fateful letter arrived, setting in motion a chain of events both strange and unlikely. In retrospect, that a series of vignettes so bizarre could start with the simple act of a posted letter seemed comical.

The letter landed with a thud, dubbing me sole executor of the late Lady Renton Sizemore's last will, a grim charge requiring a trip to her wicked home, listed in the Briarscombe country house register as the third most bloodstained holding in England.

Dislike isn't the word. Lady Sizemore and I got on famously when last we spoke, thirty years ago. I wasn't the doting schoolboy turned dribbling manchild spending Saturday nights at bingo. Neither was she the elderly relation procuring coins from behind ears to the delight of the youngers.

We were not eachother's keeper. Why I was suddenly favoured for this sensitive task that required more mental finesse than anyone in the family gave me credit for out loud, puzzled me greatly. Somebody must have annoyed her at one of her events. Sandwich gala on the Pringle Estate destroyed by careless nephew's untucked shirt. In true family style, whatever infuriated her she took to the grave.

Once the money was apportioned, I was to ensure no stone went unturned, apt phrasing given its namesake. Cairn Cottage stood oppressively atop the mound some two hundred winters, a plundered megalith shielding against the bracing gales.

Up there the flowers bloomed blighted, grass grew sideways and only the sturdiest roots survived. Without the megalith's girth, perhaps those winds might have toppled the twisted demesne, but she held firm now as old.

Mystics, druids and spiritualists alike extolled the house's phantasmic virtues. Fringe groups scrambled to reserve exclusive use of the land for Candlemas ceremonies. Lady Sizemore didn't care, provided she was soundly remunerated.

Rumours abounded of hauntings, anomalies occurring on the land by midnight's trickery.

Upon receipt of instruction, I spurred my carriage toward Cairn Cottage, the house in whose shadow no local walked without rosaries.

Although my visit was primarily administrative, there was another matter pertinent to my interests. One muttering which above all others inspired fear. A cautionary tale warning children from the grounds by night. And sometimes, on cold and lonely nights, a brave man wandering alone might see fit to take the longer road home.

Worse than druids, they said a beast lived on the Moor. A hulking creature, whose snarling teeth bared in fullness of dark glowed like spears of starlight, whose stark brightness was dulled only by the gleaming viscera of previous engagements clinging in ragged flaps.

However the rumour started, it long sprouted legs of its own, more exciting with each recounting.

No smoke without fire. I intended to find the single primal ember, the lone truthful element, stripped of frill and frock, fancy and folly, bereft of myth, or loyalty to tradition. Was there something in the fields by night? Was it dangerous?

First came Sperrin, a grizzly hamlet outside the estate's confines. For a penny, a local lad promised to find a suitable nook for the trap. I visited the sole watering hole, a squalid cellar named Lar's. The tavern itself was not charmless, offering average vintage for below average prices, warmth, music, rustic flattery and inimitably, whispers of the beast.

The tavern's proprietor Lar was a man out of time. With his arms folded across his simian chest and those big lugs like trophy handles either side of his substantial forehead, he could have easily passed for a saxon chieftain. He stood astride the bar against a backdrop of coloured bottles. Immediately upon entering his eyes set upon me with great intensity. Unlike the merry keep of fireside tales, he offered no warmth in greeting. That you were found fit to sit his barstool was kindness enough.

Inebriates remained nursing drams, glowering at their respective lecterns. Occasionally I'd catch one staring at me, then turn away as I waved. After a while sitting and sipping, making a game of catching their nosy glances, I signalled Lar's attention. 'This is probably going to sound strange. Probably because it is. Hear me out though. Have you ever heard or seen anything strange out on the moor?'

Widened like an owl, Lar's right eye scanned me once, twice, three times before he moved a muscle. 'Have in fact. Not now though. Too many around. Later.' His lips barely moved. I tipped my nose.

Nearer closing, he poured a cup and sat, remaining on the business side of the bar.

'The beast, you say?' He leaned in close, one eyebrow raised, its shape the arching rod of a hooked line. 'I could tell you a thing or two about the beast alright.'

'Prithee speak, my curiosity is burning. I won't rest a wink until it's satiated. Tourist talk aside, do you believe, as men do God, a beast prowls these forests?' I inched forward, as if by closer proximity, the truths would be truer.

'Regular Theseus, eh? Monster hunters, we have had plenty. Lovers of darkness too. Students of forbidden arts. All are served here. Kings and paupers alike. Did you come all this way to hear me say that?' Lar spoke with great confidence. The manner of his prattling meant the tales he told were true, or this was practiced.

'No.' I replied, 'I have business in the cottage. My heart though, she belongs to this creature. I am not a quack, nor a holder of séances. I am not a man of low learning on the hunt for falsehoods. I am a lover of stories. Pray, continue your captivating narrative.'

He continued, 'Let it be said I was coaxed. You wanted this.'

In this ominous portent he let slip a mask of deft craft. There was artifice in his smile, a cheshire grin that touched either cheekbone. A whispered suggestion of hidden intent.

Everything made sense. Was I seeing clearly? More than ever. I saw his ruse; city boy down for the day, take him for a ride, tell him the usual stories. A pal of his will burst in at just the right time, scare me half to death, then they'll take me to the supposed hot-spot for the low price of everything I've got. Lar took me for a lettuce. Something in his warning tipped me. A little over-arch. If his performance was not theatre, then Shakespeare never wrote.

Doubtless once finished, Lar would proffer some overpriced talisman no fellwalker could risk refusing.

'Enough pussyfooting. Spill it. I'll need all the advice I can get.' Like a drill tip, I pressed my index finger into the bar.

'No matter what image I conjure in your mind's eye, the beast is yet more ferocious and terrible in the flesh. It's the great unreality of it.' He tapped his forehead. 'Your mind doubts what it's seeing, unable to comprehend its stimulus. Brave men are made mice in its shadow.'

'What evidence have you of such a creature?' I asked, draining my tankard. He did the same, then wiped the amber residue on the back of his hand. He looked me over once, as if to ask who I was to question. I returned a withering gaze, maneuvering my features to convey a similar message. For a moment the air felt charged with kinetic possibility. As when two pugilists circle to begin a contest, lead hands pawing. Neither of us wished to be responsible for qualms.

He broke the armistice. 'Evidence? If you didn't think it weren't here, you wouldn't have come. If you believed in your heart this week you'd be contending with a monster, you'd have stayed at home in your jams.'

'Nonsense, man! You forget I am summoned, not here of my own volition.'

'We, each of us, tell ourselves sweet little lies to justify how our limited time is spent. I have a right mind to think if the lady yet lived, you and I might still have met. On a yawning stretch such as this, arriving as you have: alone and curious. If there's one thing I can't respect, it's a self hating believer. Swanning around with all the cynicism of a non-believer, clad in the robes of an adherent, so that when the hobby is proved spurious you can point to your skepticism. You'd be first to the papers tomorrow if scientists verified the beast's existence, how you had journeyed and studied on your own dime to further the science.' Lar pursed his lips, knowing he'd cut me to the quick, vanished was his earlier reticence.

I hated how right he was. I was exactly this sort. Insulting people who believed the same things as me. First to refuse to enter a haunted house for fear a demon might take my soul.

I'd never concede his point though. I riposted, 'Few are more loathed than the opinionated barman. You speak much too readily. Do so again, I'll see your manners are checked for the next weary traveler willing to pay good coin.'

Lar's eyes lit, bulging with imagined riches. 'Let me fill your drink, sir. I meant no offence. We speak freely here. Manners soften. Soon one finds truths cannot be digested unperfumed. Here in the wilds, it's a duty to voice quarrel. Far from crown and court, unaired anger festers.' Lar gladly dispensed his pearls of rural wisdom as if they were sweets from a bulging striped bag.

'Really, man. Every idea can be made ridiculous if extrapolated to that degree. Manners take the edge off. I'm not offended by your candor. I intend to find the creature, if such exists. Have you no doubt about that.' I watched him pull another drink.

The returned tankard was too full to raise without spilling. I slurped loudly, head bowed. Like a pulled plug, half the liquid gone in a single gulp.

'What evidence is sufficient? Look around you.' Lar held aloft his hands, urging me toward his empty business, still cast in a sickly light from the last flickering sentinels.

He pointed toward the empty seats. A single patron remained hidden in the shadows. A local by his boots.

'We did a roaring trade before that bloody woman inherited the place. Once she came, the trade died. When I was a lad, that land was free to roam. No walls. She had them built to spite us. Worse rumours too and all, that she built those walls to house it.'

'It?' I asked

'It. The beast.' Lar's voice lowered to a whisper. 'A cage for a pet beyond control. That's your sort all over. Dabbling where you shouldn't.'

'Her sort.' I corrected, 'I'm not aristocratic. You're a presumptuous sort, you know.'

'Believe you're not the first to say. Her sort, whatever pleases. I don't subscribe to this theory. Me personally, I think it came from hell. One thing's for certain, it got worse when they shifted the cairn.'

'You say you have seen it?' Part of me thought I was the one stringing him along, but another more gullible me firmly believed, or wanted to believe, that he had seen something. Hoping not to seem needy, I drew myself close to him, the bar still between us, 'With your own eyes if you saw it, you must swear it now. Did you see it as I see you now, or as one sees the distant stars and erroneously assumes knowledge.'

'As I stand before you.' Lar gestured to his stained apron, which he then removed and hung on a hook overhead. He nodded to the barfly, who stumbled from his seat and shot the bolt across the lock, an angry black mechanism like a bas-relief, which clanked against the timber as he let it fall. 'That's Fergus.'

Fergus lurched over. One leg trailed behind him. I couldn't help imagining him as a gothic manservant, dragging corpses to the laboratory in pursuit of higher knowledge. He came to stand beside me. There were giants on the earth is those days. Though our eyes observed the same setpieces, his countenance betrayed little comprehension. He had the chiseled jaw of a marble bust in profile, but his mouth hung open permanently, moist lips pursed like a fish.

He placed an enormous hand on my shoulder. Such space was permitted between his splayed fingers that ten legions abreast might find passage unmolested. His knuckles protruded unnaturally, evidence of labour, something harder than masonry or smithcraft. Mayhaps soldiering overseas.

I stared at his hand. He never looked at me. I coughed, first mannerly, then more harshly, thinking to approach cautiously lest my assumption prove provident, that he had lost his sound during foreign campaigns, of whose spoils we all were beneficiaries.

'Don't mind him.' Lar said. He spoke softly in the presence of his friend, observing his movements closely, ready to interject with a steadying hand or a warning to the cruelly curious. I wondered were they brothers. They bore little resemblance, though stranger things I had heard. Lar took Fergus' wrist and pressed gently, disturbing the folds of his motheaten jacket. They shared a moment I could but observe, radiating warmth and glad tidings in a wordless wave.

'I mean not to speak boldly, and lash me with spite if I transgress overmuch, but I must know or I should forever wonder, are you kin?'

Fergus shared Lar's laugh with the same look of bemused ignorance.

'You hear that? Fancy man reckons we're brothers. Probly thinks we're all related down this end, and not in a godly way.' Lar laughed, a viking bellow.

Lar released his grip and the folds of Fergus' sleeve righted themselves. He spoke several octaves lower, miming offence at my observation. I started to explain I intended no hidden subtext, but Lar waved to indicate all was taken as delivered.

'We are not brothers. Close friends. Known Fergus here forever.' He gently tapped the giant's hand, slapped on the bar like some enormous muddy bird print. 'Used to be a keen cookie too, once upon a forever ago. Loved languages, Welsh mostly. Pugilism he loved more. One passion consumed the other. Anything burning so intensely inevitably cannibalises itself. Took one knock too many, stole his wits in an instant. A left hook across the bar sent him erstwhile. Twenty five minutes he was on the shores of night, learning the landscape of the dreamworlds, while we fanned his rigid form, wet his brow and whispered familiar names in his ear. When at last he woke a part of him was left forever in that place. I like to think, boyishly perhaps, it awaits him upon leaving this plain of lousy strife, like the belongings awaiting a homeward jailbird. The cloak of a lost lifetime. Not for him. He'll slide right into it, fit like a tailored piece, and all of eternity to speak. Not here though.'

Tears welled in his eyes. I took the reins, 'Think nothing of your emotions, man. We each have them. Doubtless I will shed a tear up in the old witch's place. Another life awaits, that much is sure. Grander than this. I'm sure he made, and makes, a fine man. Built like a gladiator. I am sorry to have dredged unpleasantness. I meant only to satisfy my own selfish curiosity. Forgive me. Please, continue.'

'I will at that.'

'It were one night, three years ago. Ferg was there. We'd been called out on account of strange noises near the workers' cottage. They wouldn't work until the evil was killed or driven away. We came down from the high road proper and saw it between the trees ahead. Like a horse it stood, with clumsy stilts supporting an ursine bulk that swayed as it shambled. It drank shadows to conceal its dread presence. Blackness it took for robe. In walking its front paws propelled its cumbersome form, while the rear set, less lengthy, dredged channels in the dirt. In motion it arched to reveal a belly spun of lighter felt, ashen in the scant moonlight. Bundled, it became an orb of shadow, nothingness.'

'Unbeknownst we watched it watching, green eyes like blazing protostars probing for movement. Well it knew to choose this site, one of only two wells being located nearby. In a flash then it was gone, satin-shoed away into the night.'

The tale Lar knew was a scorcher paused. He beamed, an actor awaiting applause. I gathered my jaw from the floor, brushed it and set it back properly.

Each word drew me closer, which Fergus mirrored, until we three sat as witches about the bubbling lip of their cauldron, a coven of pallid specters.

Lar paused to sip and nodded we join.

I wondered had my hobby, in a blink, become too dangerous to justify. It was well telling my employers of ghost hunts, but a wild beast - my insurance wouldn't have it! If it turns out some menagerie escapee, what then was it? Quest for wonder or recklesss folly? Weiss, Wellie and Wardun insurance, even in their most obscure policies, don't pay out for fools. That's why I chose them!

Lar went on, a fresh cigarette painting the air blue in his articulation, 'Each new, shifting moon we came to that spot and watched. We took it upon ourselves to rid the land of danger.'

'Fergus knows a bit about a bit, that's what's left to him, God bless. What he knows is knots. Army training dictates every officer have at least passing knowledge of ten or more useful fastenings.'

'Me? I know about animals. We make a fierce duo. We inquired in advance about a reward, to which the estate responded agreeably, so we set off with lengths of rope overshoulder and the angriest looking traps the furmen could spare, determined to snare it. We planted snares all about its presumed domain.'

'Nothing came. Not a rat. Not a wisp. Not never again. It's the mystery disturbs me most. I'd die happy knowing.'

In his voice a single note of longing rang, dispelling the subterfuge of his intentions and, in the length of a breath, his beings and inner machinations were laid bare. Far from the sinister goldlust and murderous intention I had silently attributed to him, he seemed eager in an earnest fashion, willing in the name of a job done.

I observed Lar, powerful and straight. 'Do I sense an unfinished quest?'

'Aye. Not too subtle, mind.' Lar flashed a toothy smile, the sort a condemned man spits at his executioner. 'You seem a serious man. I didn't know when you first came in parading your manners like fancy knickers. You can't be too sure about a man who gives too many pleases. You're not that sort and have proved such twice over.' Lar imagined that was a compliment from the look he gave me. Expectant almost, between child submitting scribbles for display and cat batting dead mouse onto pillow.

Well, of course I had something to say about that. Cats were hissing. A donnybrook of claws and torn fur not even a hearty stock of iodine could salve. 'And I might say also that I too had cast aspersions on your character, maintaining you were of sinister country stock. As you claim to have been rapturously convinced otherwise, as have I.'

'Once the lady's estate is divided and bequeathed I'll receive my own. I mean to inherit a substantial bursar. I will pay to you a fair sum. In exchange, you will guide me to the hotpots, generally ensuring nothing eats me. When we find it, you're in charge until it's bound.' If he came, it would be on my terms.

'Find it? Slow down. We've seen it once in a hundred times. I'll take you gladly all the same.'

Wordless, we shook hands and drained our horns.

'Tomorrow?' Lar asked. He drew my gaze to an unopened whiskey bottle, which I declined.

'Not so, good man. Tomorrow I will tend my affairs. In the evening, if all is ordered, I will return to discuss further a plan of action. Have you a room I might rent?'

'Not for everyone mind, so don't go saying. There's one in the back. I'll light the fire.'

'Please do.'

I left a generous tip. Before following the publican to the warm hollow, I shook Fergus' hand, assuming he too would be part of our fortean friendship.

While I slumbered, the nightmare broke free her paddock, thundering across the veil of my somnambulant phantasmagoria, its clanging hooves ringing shrill terror.

I saw spined creatures oozing pus, many-eyed. Edgeless orbs hissing like flying snakes from one black abyss to another.

Cats with human faces screamed. A hairless man with a tail curled upwards like a scorpions noxious pike disemboweled himself with a broken mirror.

Last came the bestial form, not unlike that which Lar had described, striding evilly. Two venom coated fangs, uncontained by its snarling mouth, curved inward toward its breast. Catlike claws glinted menacingly. Turning my third eye downwards as if to look upon my feet, I found I was formless, yet the beast circled knowingly around the space my corporeal form should occupy.

I knew instinctively this reverie was more tangible than the others. That if the beast should strike I would die or wake screaming with a crimson pool spreading below me. It sniffed the air, pawing closer.

I woke to my beastless chamber. Sodden, I sought a candle and in its gloam chronicled my nightmare. That night sleep ne'er returned, making groggy my morning plod toward Cairn Cottage.

[averyscarlet-blog]

Noise’s Story

Prisoned

Warning: Slightly R-18

Theme(s): Tragedy, Revenge, Injustice

Type: Original Story

Featured Original Character(s): Noise, Sound, Ayane, Rei, Percy, Xavier, Ulric

Other Character(s): Zephyr

Inspiration: N/A 

Summary: The backstory of the boy who has chosen to lazily live his days in Avarus. One day, while taking one of his annual naps, he began to recall his past. Something he rarely does or allows himself to do. But after much thought, he allowed himself to relive his past by lulling himself back to sleep. It was about time he learns how to accept his past; how else is he gonna sleep in peace?

When I was a kid, the only sky I've ever known was the giant cage thar surrounded the city. We're all told that it's supposedly meant to protect us from the outside world, to make sure we're not exposed to the toxic air outside, but I knew better, and so did my best friend, Zephyr. We were the only ones that saw past the lies and felt the urge to venture the world beyond our prison. Surprisingly, my dad encouraged me to pursue my dream, and I think I understand why he was so eager to help whenever he can. He was a man trapped in a world of his own, filled with nothing but pleasure, a prison that he can never leave.

After gaining access to the library and learned the origins of my real name, it somehow suits me. I'm the son of a sinner, it makes sense I'd be named after someone like that. He wants me to do something he's too late in doing, breaking free from my prison. That's what I aimed to do, and after much talking, so did Zephyr. We listed various methods on our escape; the first being an underground tunnel. Only miners were allowed so one of us thought of working there then secretly steal one. We failed miserably after trying to pass off as teens. Our second idea was to climb over the wall, which was easy since no one ever guards it. But when we got to the top, we had completely forgotten about the cage and ended up wasting our time by trying to bash out way out.

We ended up getting arrested after making too much noise. After my second trip to the library, I learned of the existence of boats. No one could reach us if we sail away! Then I realized we couldn't build one because; 1) wood no longer exists and 2) the irrigation dam's opening is so small that I'm sure we'd get stuck. Then I found it, the solution that'd get us out. An airplane. We decided to worry about how we'd get through the cage later, this was the best plan we could ever come up with. So the next four years, we spent most of our days building, working tirelessly to gather the necessary materials and use whatever blueprints we could steal for assembling the necessary parts.

The only thing we did during our rest days was either talk about the outside world or sit in silence and relax. To my surprise, Zephyr told me that there were people out there waiting for him. I didn't believe him because that was impossible, we've known each other our whole lives. How could he know if there's any living thing outside if he's been stuck here like me? He would have told me if he knew a way out. Right?

I caugjt him writing several times, but I never asked who they were for. I just figured he was practicing how to write since his family wasn't given the same privaledges as mine. Learning is a blessing, hence why I taught him when I could. That was how our days went, then it happened. My dad got in too deep and ended up sleeping in a tub filled with his own blood. I ended up becoming trapped like him, trapped in my feelings of revenge. Zephyr tried to stop me but it was too late. I joined the Secret Police and used up another four years of my life, but instead of using them to free myself of this city, I wasted it on making sure I remain trapped. Zephyr never spoke to me again, and by the time I did arrest the people that killed my dad, I was too far deep to leave.

Like father, like son.

Then one day, word got out that someone was attempting to flee the city. My co-workers brushed it off as nothing as they knew it was impossible to get out. Even if they did, who knows what awaits outside the walls. All that talk about radiation from the old war and the toxic air still sounded like nonsense to me, but anyone would believe anything they hear as long as they remain living in fear. If that person does attempt to make his escape, I know he'll fail, and his failure will cement the already see rooted fear in everyone's hearts. And I was going to ignore it as well, till I heard the name of who was the fool that publicly declared his departure. He was always an idiot, but I didn't think he was stupid enough to let the whole city know he was making his grand escape.

I don't know what drove me to meet him after so long. I was ust aimlessly patrolling around the farther regions if the city and found myself at our old hang out. It was an abandoned construction site, a passion project dedicated to our beloved dictator's 66th wife till she died of unknown circumstances. When I was about to push aside the oldy moldy door curtain, I heard the familiar sound of a roaring engine from the upper floor. I ran in only to find myself tackled and pinned to the ground by Zephyr.

"Heh... About time you got here!" he cackled.

Struggling, I demanded, "Get off me!"

"Sorry! No can do!"

"Then tell me, why are you leaving the city now!?"

For the first time, the brilliant light I've seen in his pale blue eyes disappeared. He stared down at me with an unfamiliar cold gaze.

"I told you... I have people waiting for me outside," he spoke in a monotone voice. "I thought about it for a long time. I was supposed to join them 8 years ago, but then I met you."

He briefly gets off my back, grabs my shoulders then proceeds to flip me over. I hitch a breath when we finally made direct eye contact. When I first met him, he was a scrawny kid that didn't know when to stop smiling. Before we went out seperate ways, he had grown but still wore that stupid grin. Now, four years later, his smile remained but gave off a different vibe. It felt like he was trying to control his emotions, forcing himself to smile. He sits back on my abdomen before I could sit up, then pins my arms above my head when I tried to reach him. His sudden strength surprised me.

When I tried to fight back, he tightens his grip hard enough to potentially crack my wrist bones.

"All I've ever thought about was taking you to the outside world, but I couldn't because you're not like me." Zephyr bowed his head so his long bangs concealed his eyes. He tried to sound like his usual cheerful self, but it came off as forced as he spoke. "Zephyr's not even my real name... I only picked it because it's cool. That's all I wanted to be for you, but you always beat me to the punch. Even after you dropped our plans, abandoned me so you can join those stiffs..."

A tear drop falls on my cheek. I felt helpless as I watched my best friend began to cry. To my further surprised, he reaches for something on his eyes and removes... A contact lense. The blue that I was so familiar with was replaced with a spine chilling yellow color. It almost appeared as it they were glowing. He lightly punches my chest before I could think of a response.

His voice cracks as he yelled, "I still waited! I thought that once you got your revenge over with, you'd come back so I can take you out of here!"

I gasp when he lets go of my wrists and roughly grabs the jacket of my uniform, lifting me to bring out faces closer.

"But I'm done. I've waited long enough. I'm getting out of here," he said coldly. "You were my only reason for staying in this shit hole. Sound was right, I shouldn't have waited for someone that second guesses themselves."

'Sound...?' I thought.

Before I could as what he meant, Zephyr stands up and movea several steps back. Using the sleeve of his soot covered shirt, he wipes his tears away then stares back at me once more. This time his eyes blazed with determination.

"I'm glad you dropped by though." He bitterly smiles. Zephyr croaks, "Least I know you still thought of me to the end. I just needed to see your face to make sure I'm doing the right thing."

"Wait, Zephyr-"

Desperate for answers and fearing the meaning behind his words, I shot up on my feet and ran towards him. My heart was beating against my ears as the gap between up quickly began to disappear. But just as the tip of my finger was close to touching him, my entire went numb the second he vanished from my line of sight. I could hardly comprehend what just happened. He was there, standing and talking to me. There was no way that was a hallucination, the bruises on my wrists are proof enough that he was real. I don't know what brought me to do it, but my eyes automatically fall to the ground.

For a split second, I thought I saw some sort of ripple effect on the cement floor. I thought of reaching just to check if I was seeing things, but before I could, a small pebble was thrown at the side of my head. I automatically turn in the direction it came from and saw Zephyr, leaning against the doorway to the stairwell with his arms crossed like nothing happened. He turns his head and smirks, a familiar playful glint appearing in his eyes.

"So, what are you gonna do now, Mr. Policeman?"

Anger began to boil. Without an ounce of hesitation, I drew my gun and charged. A cunning smiling crosses his lips as he gravitated away from entryway , practically gliding into the stairwell as he disappeared from my line of sight. Ticked at his continual resistance, I replaced the rounds with one filled with rubber bullets and dashed after him. Punching the door to open it wider, my head snaps up and saw his hand sliding over the hand rail on the third floor. Tightening my grip around the shaft of the handle, I held my pistol up and ran after him. The building was about 15 floors up, so there's a slim chance I'd be able to reach him.

When I checked to see how far he's gotten, I saw that his pace had remained unchanged. Mine, however, was starting to decrease as the previous momentum I had earlier was being weighed down by Earth's gravity. His footsteps began to echo farther the higher we go. My chest was beginning to feel heavy, it felt like I was suffocating as my lungs began to greedily take in as much as air possible. Stopping, I attempted to shoot him while a part of him was within my line of sight. The problem was, when I attempted to aim, sweat was dripping passed my brow and entering my eyes, blurring my already hazy vision. I tried to control my breathing, but after climbing up 10 flights of stairs while wearing thick layers of clothing, I couldn't gain at least a few seconds to recover.

Realizing Zephyr was going to escape at the rate I was going, I discarded some articles of police uniform as I resume running. First I peeled off my white gloves by bitting them off that's prevented me from properly making any physical contact, then I shed off the black trench coat which felt heavy on my shoulders since I put it on. And lastly, yanked off my black tie and threw my hat off. With the weight lifted, I found myself moving at a faster pace, almost reaching the same floor as Zephyr before he abruptly turns and bashes he way through the door of the top floor. I follow after a minute later.

The top floor was just an unfinished area with no walls on all four corners, leaving only a poorly made ceiling and sever unfinished cement columns and beams. On the other side of the room was Zephyr, whose back was turned as he stared at aircraft in front of him. An aerobatic plane.

Stunned to see an actual one in person, I was going to step forward in awe only to do the opposite when Zephyr partially moves to face me.

"Beautiful, isn't it? I made it after the exact sketches you made when we were kids."

"Don't fuck with me! You know the moment you declared your escape attempt to the city you'd became the government's no. 1 on their most wanted list!"

When I raised my gun at him, for a split second, I saw a flicker of surprise in his eyes, which was briefly replaced with sadness then anger.

"So... We really are at the point of no return..." He mumbled, frowning as he closes his eyes and turns away.

Clicking my teeth, I recite the same words since I became an SP, "Zephyr Andrealphus! You are under arrest for conspiracy against the government and the moral it has instilled in the people! I want you to come with me and receive judgement from the aeolipyle gods!" I adjusted my grip and held my pistol with both hands. "If you're lucky, you'll have a chance to receive penance for your crimes."

"And what crimes am I paying for exactly? I just said I was leaving."

"I just told you." I glare at him. "You're under arrest for conspiracy. You know that leaving means death. They reason these rules exist is to prevent any idiot for inspiring others to make the same suicide attempt."

"Aren't you hearing yourself? You know that if these people remain trapped in this giant bird cage, they're as good as dead! You know that supplies are running out, the population is at the point of overflowing. I don't give a damn about these people, but if you think my departure becomes a catalyst of rebellion, then so be it! At least something good will come out of it."

My mouth forms a tight line as I steady my aim. "Back away from the aircraft Zephyr, I'm not repeating myself."

"You mentioned about the people's moral yet you don't realize just how brainwashed you people are," he scoffs, completely ignoring my warnings. "At least I was able to give someone like you a head start."

When he spun around, I barely caught sight of it as the blade of his dagger glistened in the afternoon sun's light. Unable to dodge, all I could do is jerk my head away as it flew past me. In the process, it painfully sliced through a portion of my outer ear. We stare at one another with mirrored shcoked looks before I drop my arm and clutch my ear. Shutting my eyes, I howl in pain as a sharp throbbing sensation radiates on around my ear. I felt some blood slip between my fingers, but I refuse to pull it away to check how much blood I'm losing. I've been inflicted with several forms of pain, but it's not a sensation you can every get used to.

"Shit! I didn't mean- You weren't supposed to-"

I no longer wanted to listen to his excuses. Filled with rage, I threw my arm up and began to fire. I'm not going to act like a civil police anymore, Zephyr lost the chance to end things peacefully when he took the initiative in attack. I fired several without an ounce of hesitation. Most of them ricocheted off the metal surface of the plane, but Zephyr remained unnerved even after one hits him on the shoulder. Seeing him reach for something from behind, I dove behind the closest column and waited for his next move.

I stuck my gun out and blindly shot several times. Pulling back, I waited until I heard the sound of clanging metal. Confused, I was about to take a peak until a dagger comes flying across my field of vision. It both knocked out the pistol from my hand and cut off some locks of my black hair. When I attempted to reach for it, another dagger curves and knocks it away.

"Sorry!" I could barely hear his voice as it was masked by the aircraft's roar engine. "But this is the last time you're gonna see Zephyr!" I got up to my feet and move around before a blast of wind strikes my body, forcing me to lift my arm to shield my face. From what I could make out, his wild red-orange hair danced with the wind as, behind his oversized goggles, his eyes purely focused on the sky ahead. "If by some miracle I do return, you'll have to call me Noise!"

Recalling my spare pistol, I took it out from my back pocket and aimed. At the last second, I realized that live rounds were still inside, but it was too late, my finger had already pulled the trigger. To my relief, his plane jolted back, causing it to miss. But it did hit something else, the engine. I didn't even have the chance to even call out his name as it was already running across the room. I helplessly reach out my arm as it began to lift off, moving completely out of my reach. Running towards the edge, I watch as it drops downwards then, by some miracle, began to raise itself above the city.

For a moment, I had almost forgotten about the bullet hole I made on the engine. I was in a daze. I wasn't upset anymore, I only felt a surge of pride as I watch the plane fly above the city. It was only when I saw a trail of smoke I began to panic.

"ZEPHYR!"

The plane slams against the walls of the cage and successfully bursts its way out. However, combined with the sudden brute trauma to the body and the possible damage I inflicted internally, I could only pray it for another miracle for him to make it.

But he didn't.

To my horror, and for whoever was watching from below, it exploded a minute after leaving a hole in the cage. I drop to my knees and watched as various parts of it began to fall. When I caught sight of his goggles, I dropped my gun, went on all fours and wailed in agony. I don't recall how long I had been there. The world simply disappeared, and so did my body. All I felt was remorse and shame. If it were raining today, I'm certain my tears would blend in.

From what I could recall, I was found by my subordinates, who escorted me out of the building and back to HQ. Everything was a blur, and by the time I could comprehend my surroundings, I was told by my superior I was given a temporary discharge from my duties for a week. Instead of receiving condolences, I was praised for my heroic actions, I had proven to the public why they should never attempt the same mistake as Zephyr. I wanted to shout, scream at them to take back the things they were saying about him. Then I realized something. Around a few hours ago, I viewed him the same way, a thoughtless idiot that was willing to risk his life to achieve his false form of freedom. I'm no better than them. I didn't approach him as his friend; I approached him as a cold hearted officer.

For the next few days, I drowned myself in sex, drugs, and any concocted alcoholic beverage I could get my hands on.

I wasted away just like my dad. At that point in my life, I don't even know if my dad would be proud or disappointed in me. Even after I was free to return to work, it was obvious even to them that I wasn't ready. I don't think I'll ever be. On the day I was sober, I climbed up the wall and visited the portion of the cage that still had a hole in it. No one has bothered fixing it up. The engineers feared that they lack the 'resources' and re-breathers to fix it up. I think that was just their excuse to remain as far from the cage as possible.

We were told radiation is still present on the outside, and the air is toxic because of that. The cage simply filters the air so we can breath. But standing in front of it, staring at the outside world for the first time, I knew that it was false. The only reason I'm even allowed out here is because of my badge, and that told me many things. The people I work with knew, if not, why else would an officer such as myself be given a pass at getting a closer look at the cage. Especially one, such as myself, without a re-breather.

"This world... The people that resides in it... Is just filled with lies..."

In contrast to the dull greyness which covers the city; the world outside was colorful and vibrant. I've heard of green grass, but I never knew they could come in a different color. Orange. Just starting at it reminded me of him, the one that deserved to see this. I'm not even sure how much of the outside world he saw before he died.

"You sure you should be wasting you life away life this?" A hallucination of my kid self appeared next to me. He gazes up at me curiously. "He risked everything to get to this point. He wanted you to live a free life."

"I doubt it..." I scoffed. "You heard the way he was talking. He hates us. He waited for someone willing to trapped themselves in their own feelings of revenge. He should have left. If he was more than capable before he met me, he should have done so. He'd be alive and outside, not dead and in ashes."

"Zephyr didn't want to leave without you," my younger self argued. "He said so himself! The only reason he decided to leave was because of what you said!"

Ticked off, I growled, "I only said that because it was true. I needed to do get my revenge, he was just going to get hurt if he hanged around me. He was free to do whatever the hell he wanted."

"You never told him he was a nuisance," my kid self pointed out with a sly grin.

"Yeah, I... Never did," I slowly said as the realization dawned on me.

"He always knew, that Zephyr, that you never meant to hurt him. He's used to your blunt honesty, but it's the way you said it that inflicted some pain. Though, he never hated you. He knew, just like your time with building the plane, you'll put all your effort in arresting and killing Dad's killers. You always dedicated your time and effort on one thing at a time."

"But... That was two years ago,. Why didn't he-"

Then it hit me.

"He wanted me to focus on something else," I said as the realization dawned on me. "He wanted me to put an effort into living. He just had to give me a head start."

I look to my side and found the hallucination had disappeared.

Rather, in its place were his goggles. Hesitant at first, I crouch and slowly reached for them. Tentatively picking it up, I lift it and stared straight at my reflection, or more specifically, my eyes. It's the first I've bother looking at myself on any reflective surface in a long time. Dark bags were under my eyes, my face deathly pale due to the lack of proper sunlight. My cheeks bones were even starting to show from not eating anything properly. My once saturated orange-red eyes now appeared red, almost void of emotion. For a split second, I thought I saw a reflection of Zephyr in my place, staring back at me with the same sad eyes.

"I'll live my life... That's the only effort I'll ever put into," I declare as I stood up, tightly clutching onto the goggles. "I'm never going to try too hard in doing anything ever again. Every time I do, someone suffers for it." I turn to completely face the opening.

"First my dad, who I could have protected if I hadn't put all my time and effort in making that plane. Then you, Zephyr, who I should have left with rather than putting an effort in finding my dad's killers as a policeman. Never again. The only thing I'll do is live, even if that means I have to be a lazy ass. I'll do whatever it takes to live on."

My life in this city no longer matters. If I want to live, I have to get out of here. That's what Zephyr wanted, and I'll do it. Taking several steps back, I glance over at the city one last time before shifting my attention to the world outside. With a deep breath through my nostrils, I huffed a breath as I made a dash for it. If I'm to die, then so be it. He died on the outside, so why not me?

I nearly tripped at the start due to my lack of leg training in a while, but I was able to gain and maintain the momentum. Once the ledge was near, I lift myself off the ground and made my leap of faith out of the cage. I was immediately blinded by the sun's light, so when my eyes readjusted, I found the grass quickly approaching me. Panicking, I raise my arms to protect my face and curled my legs to curl myself into a ball. The collision was painful upon impact, but the grassed see enough to act as a cushion. Gravity continued to pull my body as I found myself rolling away from my initial landing point. When I finally stopped rolling, I was on my back, my limbs sprawled on the ground and aching.

"Ow...." was all I could utter.

That was a definite leap of faith. A painful one, but luckily I survived that. Just as I was about to sit up, I heard some crunching sounds. Footsteps?

I recalled Zephyr's words, "I told you..." I tilt my head and found myself staring at a small group of people, teens not much older than I. "I have people waiting for me on the outside."

In the back was a girl with medium tanned skin and dark drown hair tied in a hight pony tail, wearing only a short t-shirt, Jean pants and leather boots. Beside her was a boy much taller than me, with pale skin and pale blue hair (also tied in a ponytail). He wore some sort of uniform, much lighter than my former police attire. Around his hips was a broadsword belt with a sword hanging from his hips.

Not too far in front of them was little boy. His hair, just as surprising as sword boy, was white but with some purple streaks. Most of his attire consists of purple and appeared a bit outlandish and, slightly, gothic. A little inappropriate for someone his age. On his arm was an arm warmer, covering most it. Wrapped around his arm was a long, silver chain. The next was some sort of dog. A really big dog, one that needs a hair cut. Standing next to it was a girl with... Animal ears and a tail?

I had to shake my head several times to comprehend what I was seeing. Concerned, she leans forwards with one hand on her knees and the other holding back her long dark brown hair. I could only confirm it was real when one tilt to the side, further expressing her emotions. They all, aside from the dog, had one thing in common. Yellow eyes.

'Are these the people Zephyr was talking about...?' I wondered as I stare at them.

I only tore my eyes away from them when a figure approaches and stands in front of me, providing me some shade from the sun. It was another boy, but unlike the others, I was unable to see his face as he wore a strange looking fox mask. Although I couldn't see his eyes, I could tell he was staring down at me. He wore a black short sleeved hoodie, a grey shirt with a weird red print on the chest, cargo pants, and combat boots. He just stares at me. This causes me to uncomfortably shift. As if realizing I sensed his eyes, he steps forward and extends a hand.

I refuse to take it and continued to apprehensively glare at him.

"Are you the new Noise?" the fox girl spoke up.

"If by some miracle I do return, you'll have to call me Noise!"

"We were told to meet him here. He didn't tell us what he looks like, but he said look for a part of him that almost blends well with the field."

I let out a small gasp. His hair. That's what he was referring to. So he was telling the truth, he isn't like me. That explains that thing he did when I ran towards him.

"So... Are you?" The fox girl tilts her head.

The only part of me that has a similar color to the grass are my eyes. I hesitated, but before I could answer, the boy with the fox mask mask something out from his bag and takes out a notebook and a pen. After writing a bit, he croached a free feet my head and held his notebook over my face.

'Do you want to see the world he wanted to show you?'

I held my breath. Did he know? Did he know that he's dead and that I'm not him? I never answered the his question, but a part of me wanted to say 'yes'. Noting my stunned silence, he turns the notebook back to him, turns the page and writes something else. When finished, he holds it up again

'Forget your old life and join me. I'll show you the things he wanted you to see.'

For second, I felt a strange feeling burning in my chest. It wasn't painful. It felt pleasant. Without thinking, I reached out to him. Somehow, I knew he was smiling behind his mask as he gently takes my hand and helps pull me to my feet. Because I used so much energy early, my legs gave out after taking my first step. The masked boy catches me in a heartbeat.

"Hehehe! Geez Sound, you're acting oddly charming today," the fox girl giggles.

My eyes widen at the familiar name.

"Sound...?" I weakly utter.

The little boy cocks a brow and questions, "Your pen pal, remember? He's been keeping an eye on you for years. Don't tell me this fox freak forgot to mention how he looks."

"No, I..." I trail off, unable to think of a proper excuse.

The boy with the blue hair interjects, "Xavier, enough. I'm certain he's tired after working tirelessly in making his escape. He's certainly not worse for wear."

The boy, Xavier, frowns and glares to the side, muttering what I can assume was an apology. Sound, while making sure I kept leaning against his body for support, writes in his notebook then holds it to the others. I can only guess he's mute since he hasn't said a word since we met. But why the mask? Rather than looking into it too much, I just gave up trying to understand him altogether. It already feels like I'm in a circus just being with them.

The others nod and enter what I think is a portal. I've only read them in fantasy stories, but I never thought I'd see one in reality. Especially one that appears like a door despite its crystal-like appearance. Slipping his arm down so his hand held mine, he backs away to provide me some space. I almost fell over, but the firm grip of his hand was enough to act as my support. I suddenly felt conscious of my appearance and turn my heard away, feeling a slight warmth in my cheeks. Tugging my hand, I felt myself being escorted by him as the others wait for us.

"So, what are your names?" I ask as we began to make our leave.

"My name's Ayane!" the fox girl chirps. "The kid is Xavier, the overly tanned girl is Rei, the girly boy is Perseus, the wolf here is Ulric, and the boy holding your hand is my twin, Sound!"

"I'm not overly tanned!"

"Ayane, if you address me in such a manner again, I will not hesitate but to deliver you a Knight's dishonorable form of execution." He looks my way and promptly adds, "You may call me 'Percy'. My real name tends to tie people's tongues if mentioned in conversation too often."

"You know that's not necessarily calming him down..." I jumped back when I heard the dog talk. How and WHY can it talk?

Sound secretly hands a note to me. I take it and it read:

'When we get to Avarus, you're allowed to change your appearance as much as you please. We can't exactly change your face without deforming it. It's just a suggestion you but... what would you like?'

I thought about it for a moment then touched my hair.

"It's nothing major but..."

(A/N: if anyone knows the name of the original artist for this, please tell me so I can credit them! Or at least remove in case I learn they do not want their art republished!)

[alchemisland]

Moors Mutt - Chapter I part II

The tavern's proprietor Lar was a man out of time. With mauling arms folded across a simian chest, those big lugs like trophy handles either side of his substantial forehead, he could have easily passed for a saxon reaver. He stood against a backdrop of coloured glasses, bottles and casks in strange order and shape as decor an alchemist's laboratory. He stirred to life with a scowl, seemingly perturbed by my proposed custom, and when his grim eyes flitted toward the doorframe where I stood they never left me, tracing my gait, measuring my intent by my caution. Unlike the merry keep of fireside tales, he offered no warmth in greeting. That you were found fit to sit his barstool was kindness enough.

Inebriates remained nursing drams, glowering at their respective lecterns. I sat pacified. A loud mind had been quieted briefly. I contended only with the surprising potency of his ale. Lar, though tireless, worked without grace or speed. Machinelike, he filled the chalices of his regulars to the brim, every interaction wordless but for a grunt.

In a rare idle moment I signalled to him. 'This is probably going to sound strange, possibly it is, but hear me out first. Have you ever heard or seen anything strange around here? On the moor perhaps?'

Widened like an owl, Lar's right eye scanned me once, twice, three times before he stirred. 'I have, in fact. Not now. Too crowded. Later.' His lips barely moved, his eyes fixed on a distant point, a picture of practiced subterfuge.

I tipped my nose. 'Mum.' Tantalised and impatient, I was nonetheless pleased as my integration thus far. Lar hadn't time of day to speak of books or art, he was a philistine it seemed, but the mere mention of high strangeness set his eyes burning, every inch of his forearm torqued and tight to the bone.

Nearer closing, he poured a cup and sat, remaining on the business side opposite, across the lay of defaced oak. Wide-shouldered and stacked in flabby layers like a wedding cake, he had the look of an old warrior too worn to die in battle, ballooned and sore, fierce still. He seemed to strain at the weight of his own bulk. How the desires of youth, to be fierce and feared and pleasant to observe, we wear like shackles at the winter wilting.

When at last Lar mounted his stool, a difficult task as he was forced each time to rediscover the centre point of his vast behind to avoid tumbling backward, he leaned in close. 'The beast, you say?' One eyebrow he raised, its shape the arching rod of a hooked line. 'I could tell you more than a tale about the beast.'

'Prithee speak, my curiosity burns. I won't rest until it's satiated. Tourist talk begone, do you believe, as men do God, a beast prowls these lands?' I inched forward, that as if by closer proximity the truths would be made truer.

'Regular Theseus, is that it? Of monster hunters we know much. Lovers of dark arts also. All are served here. Kings and paupers. Did you come all this way to hear me say that?' Lar spoke with great confidence. The particular manner of his prattling compounded my sense that the tales he told were perhaps practiced.

'No.' I replied 'I have business in the cottage. Let me state directly; I am neither quack nor séance holder. I am not of low learning, a prover of falsehoods; rather I am a lover of stories. Pray, continue your captivating narrative.'

Lar continued. 'Let it be said I was coaxed. You asked.'

In this ominous portent he let slip a mask of deft craft. There was artifice in his smile, a cheshire grin that touched either cheekbone. A whispered suggestion of hidden intent.

'Enough pussyfooting. Spill it. I'll need all the advice I can get.' Like a drill tip, I pressed my index finger into the bar.

'No matter what image I conjure in your mind's eye, the beast is yet more ferocious and terrible in the flesh. It's the great unreality of it.' He tapped his forehead. 'Your mind doubts what it's seeing, unable to comprehend its stimulus. Brave men are made mice in its gaze.'

'What evidence have you of such a creature?' I asked, draining my tankard. He looked me over once, as if to ask who I was to question. I returned a withering gaze, maneuvering my features to convey a similar message. For a moment the air felt charged with kinetic possibility. As when two pugilists circle to begin a contest, lead hands pawing.

Lar broke the armistice. 'Evidence? If you didn't think it weren't here, you wouldn't have come. If you believed in your heart you'd be contending with a monster this week, you'd have stayed at home in your jams.'

'Nonsense, man! You forget I am not here of my own volition. Business has portended our introduction. What we speak of is.. Extracurricular.'

'We, each of us, tell ourselves sweet little lies to justify how our limited time is spent. I have a right mind to think if the lady yet lived up in the big house, you and I might still have met. On a yawning stretch such as this, arriving as you have: alone and curious. If there's one thing I can't respect, it's a self-hating believer. Swanning around with all the cynicism of a non-believer, clad in the robes of an adherent, so that when the hobby is proved spurious you can point to your skepticism. You'd be first to the papers tomorrow if scientists verified the beast's existence, how you had journeyed and studied on your own dime to further the science.' Lar pursed his lips, knowing he'd cut me to the quick, vanished was his earlier reticence.

I hated how right he was. I was exactly this sort. Insulting people who believed the same things as me. First to refuse to enter a haunted house for fear a demon might take my soul.

I'd never concede his point though. I riposted, 'Few are more loathed than the opinionated barman. You speak much too readily. Do so again, I'll see your manners are checked for the next weary traveler willing to pay good coin.'

Lar's eyes lit, bulging with imagined riches. 'Let me fill your drink, sir. I meant no offence. We speak freely here. Manners soften. Soon one finds truths cannot be digested unperfumed. Here in the wilds, it's a duty to voice quarrel. Far from crown and court, unaired anger festers.' Lar, as soon I would learn, dispensed his pearls of rural wisdom free of charge.

'Really, man. Every idea can be made ridiculous if extrapolated to that degree. Manners take the edge off. I'm not offended by your candor. I intend to find the creature, if such exists. Have you no doubt about that.' I watched him pull another drink.

The returned tankard was too full to raise without spilling. I bent to the lip and like a pulled plug, drained half in a gulp.

'What evidence is sufficient? Look around you.' Lar held aloft his hands, urging me toward his empty business, still cast in a sickly light from the last flickering sentinels. He pointed toward the empty seats. A single patron remained hidden in the shadows. A local by his boots.

'We did a roaring trade before that bloody woman inherited the place. Once she came, the trade died. When I was a lad, that land was free to roam. No walls. She had them built to spite us. Worse rumours too I have heard, that those walls were built to contain it.'

'It?' I asked

'It.' His voice lowered to a whisper. 'A cage for a pet beyond control. That's your sort all over.'

'Her sort.' I corrected, 'I'm not aristocratic. You're a presumptuous sort, you know.'

'Believe you're not the first to say. Her sort, whatever pleases. I don't subscribe to this particular theory. Me personally, I think it's from hell. One thing's for certain, it got worse when they shifted the stone.'

'You say you have seen it?' Part of me thought I was stringing him along, but another more gullible me firmly believed he had seen something. 'With your own eyes if you saw it, you must swear it. Did you see it as I see you now, or as one sees distant stars and erroneously assumes knowledge.'

'As I stand.' Lar gestured to his stained apron, which he promptly removed and slung on a hook overhead. He nodded to the sole barfly, who stumbled from his seat and shot the bolt across the lock, an angry black mechanism like a bas-relief. 'That's Fergus.'

Fergus lurched over. One leg trailed behind him. I couldn't help imagining him a gothic manservant, dragging corpses to the laboratory in pursuit of higher knowledge. He came to stand beside me. There were giants on the earth in those days. Though our eyes observed the same setpiece, his countenance betrayed little comprehension. With the chiseled jaw of a bust in profile, head-on his mouth, ringed by ever moist lips, was pursed like a fish. He placed one enormous hand at my shoulder. Such space was permitted between his fingers splayed that ten legions abreast might find passage unmolested. His knuckles protruded unnaturally, evidence of labour or something harder than masonry. Mayhaps soldiering.

He never looked at my face. I coughed, first mannerly, then more harshly, thinking to approach cautiously lest my assumption prove provident, that he had lost his sound during foreign campaigns, of whose spoils we all were beneficiaries.

'Don't mind him.' Lar said. He spoke softly in the presence of his friend, observing his movements closely, ready to interject with a steadying hand or a warning to the cruelly curious. I wondered were they brothers. They bore little resemblance, though stranger things I had heard. Lar took Fergus' wrist and pressed gently, disturbing the folds of his motheaten jacket. They shared a moment I could but observe, radiating warmth and glad tidings in a wordless wave.

'I mean not to speak boldly, and lash me with spite if I transgress overmuch, but I must know or I should forever wonder, are you kin?' I asked.

Fergus shared Lar's laugh with a similar look of bemused ignorance.

'Hear that? Fancy man reckons we're brothers. Probly thinks we're all related down this end. Not in a godly way either.' Lar let a viking bellow.

Lar released his grip and the folds of Fergus' sleeve righted. He spoke an octave lower, miming offence at my observance. I poised to explain I had intended no hidden subtext, which Lar waved to indicate all had been taken as delivered.

'We are not brothers. Close friends. Known Fergus here forever.' He gently tapped the giant's hand, slapped on the bar like an enormous muddy bird print. 'Used to be a keen cookie once upon a forever ago. Loved languages, Welsh mostly. Pugilism he loved more. One passion consumed the other. Anything burning intensely inevitably cannibalises itself. Took one knock too many, stole his wits in an instant. A left hook across the bar sent him erstwhile. Twenty five minutes he was on the shores of night, learning the landscape of the dreamworlds, while we fanned his rigid form, wet his brow and whispered familiar names in his ear. When at last he woke a part of him was left forever in that place. I like to think, boyishly perhaps, it awaits him upon leaving this plain of lousy strife, like the belongings awaiting a homeward jailbird. The cloak of a lost lifetime. Not for him. He'll slide right into it, fit like a tailored piece, and all of eternity to speak. Not here though.'

Tears welled in his eyes. I took the reins, 'Think nothing of your emotions, man. We each have them. Doubtless I will shed a tear up in the old witch's place. Another life awaits, that much is sure. Grander than this. I'm sure he makes a fine man. Built like a gladiator. I am sorry to have dredged unpleasantness. I meant only to satisfy a selfish curiosity. Forgive me. Please continue.'

'I will at that.' He cleared his throat.

'It were one cold night three years ago. Fergus was there. We'd been called out on account of strange noises near the workers' cottages. They wouldn't work until the supposed evil was driven away. We came down from the high road proper and there it stood bold in the copse. Like a horse it stood, with clumsy stilts supporting an ursine bulk that swayed as it shambled. It drank shadows to conceal its dread presence. Blackness it took for robes. In walking its front paws propelled its cumbersome form, while the rear set, less lengthy, dredged channels in the dirt. In motion it arched to reveal a belly spun of lighter felt, ashen in the scant moonlight. Bundled it became an orb of shadow, nothingness. Unbeknownst we watched it watching, green eyes like blazing protostars probing for movement. Well it knew to choose this place, with one of only two wells located nearby. In a flash it was gone, satin-shoed away into the night.'

The tale Lar knew was a scorcher paused. He beamed, an actor awaiting applause. I gathered my jaw from the floor, brushed and set it properly.

Each word drew me closer, which Fergus mirrored, until we three sat as witches about the bubbling lip of a cauldron, a coven of pallid specters.

Lar sipped and nodded we join.

I wondered had my hobby in a blink become too dangerous to justify. It was well telling my employers of ghost hunts, but a wild beast - my insurance wouldn't have it! If it turned out some menagerie escapee, what then was it? Quest for wonder or recklesss folly? Weiss, Wellie and Wardun insurance, even in their most obscure policies, don't pay out for fools. That's why I chose them!

As Lar went on, a fresh cigarette painted the air blue in his articulation, 'Each shifting moon we came to that spot. We had taken it upon ourselves to rid the land of danger. Fergus knows a bit about a bit, that's what's left to him, God bless. What he knows is knots. Army training dictates every officer have at least passing knowledge of ten or more useful fastenings. Me? I know about animals.'

'A fierce duo, I'm sure.' I beamed, ensorcelled.

'We inquired about a reward, to which the estate responded agreeably, so we set off with rope overshoulder and the angriest traps the furmen could spare, determined to snare it. We planted snares all about its presumed domain. Nothing came. Not a rat. Not a wisp. Not never again. It's the mystery disturbs me most. I'd die happy knowing.'

In his voice a single note of longing rang and dispelled the subterfuge of his intentions, and twas far from the sinister goldlust I had silently attributed him.

I observed Lar, now powerful and straight. I asked 'Do I sense an unfinished quest?'

'Aye. Not too subtle, mind.' Lar flashed a toothy smile, the sort a condemned man spits at his executioner. 'You seem a serious man. I didn't know when you first came in parading your manners like fancy knickers. You can't be too sure about a man who gives too many pleases. You're not that sort and have proved such twice over.' Lar imagined that was a compliment from the look he gave. Expectant almost, between child submitting scribbles for display and cat batting dead mouse onto pillow.

Well, of course I had something to say. Cats were hissing. A donnybrook of claws and torn fur not even a hearty stock of iodine could salve. 'And I might say also that I too had cast aspersions on your character, maintaining you were of sinister country stock. As you claim to have been rapturously convinced otherwise, as have I.'

'Once the lady's estate is divided and bequeathed I'll receive my own. I mean to inherit a substantial bursar. I will pay to you a fair sum. In exchange, you will guide me to the hotpots. When we find it, you're in charge until it's bound.' If he came, it would be on my terms.

'Find it? Slow down. We've seen it once in a hundred times. I'll take you gladly all the same.' Lar agreed, quite fairly.

Wordless, we shook and drained our horns.

'Tomorrow?' Lar asked. He drew my gaze to an unopened bottle of whiskey, which I declined.

'Not so, good man. Tomorrow I will tend my affairs. In the evening, if all is ordered, I will return to discuss further a plan of action. Have you a room I might rent?' I yawned, suddenly quite exhausted.

'Not for everyone so don't go saying. There's one in the back. I'll light the fire.' Lar's manners had briefly returned at the notion of payment.

'Please do.'

I left a generous tip. A productive evening assuredly. Before following the publican to his warm hollow, I shook Fergus' hand, assuming he too would be part of our fortean friendship.

While I slumbered the nightmare broke free her paddock and thundered across the veil of my somnambulant phantasmagoria, its clanging hooves rang shrill terror.

I saw spined creatures oozing pus, many-eyed. Edgeless orbs hissing like flying snakes from one black abyss to another.

Cats with human faces screamed. A hairless man with a tail curled upwards like a scorpions pike disemboweled himself with a broken mirror.

Last came the bestial form, not unlike that which Lar had described, striding evilly. Two venom coated fangs, uncontained by its snarling mouth, curved inward toward its breast. Catlike claws glinted menacingly. Turning my third eye downwards as if to look upon my feet, I found myself formless, yet the beast circled knowingly around the space my corporeal form should occupy.

I knew instinctively this reverie was more tangible than the other eerie visitations, and that if the beast should strike I would die or wake screaming with a crimson pool spreading below. It sniffed the air, pawing closer.

I woke to my beastless chamber. Sodden, I sought a candle and in its gloam chronicled my nightmare. That night sleep ne'er returned, making groggy my morning plod toward Cairn Cottage.

More.