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neko-rogers · 3 years

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72 Hours

You only have 72 hours to detain Steve Rogers. He’s the only opportunity you can get to find out what happened and why half of the population mysteriously disappeared.

word count: 3,168

tags: eventual dark!steve rogers and non-con; however, none much in this chapter but plot and interaction

Things escalated so quickly.

Ever since half of the world population had suddenly disappeared, which left fewer people walking around the streets of Manhattan, your job had become stressful yet so useless. The rest of the investigative crew are close to giving up and adapting to what has been left.

Meanwhile, here you were. Neither convinced nor ready to accept the fact that most of your friends and family have vanished.

Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months. By now, the withdrawal is coming close to a year and a half. Yet the clues you have gathered merely comprises for a month of effort.

“You should be giving up on this already.” Two of your colleagues walk behind you, either of them comforting your bothered state by rubbing your back as a gesture to cheer up. The hint of hopelessness in their tone bothers you more than their initial intention.

“I doubt you will be solving one of the biggest mysteries of the world yet,” they state with an implication of humor before pulling back. From the corner of your vision, you could see their jackets folded neatly and hung on top of their arms. Just as their uniforms remained pressed, it conveys that they were already prepared to check out of their shift.

“But hey, if you do solve it, let us know. We’ll be more than supportive and grateful for your efforts, Agent.”

“Thanks. I hope so,” your voice was soft, resisting to show any sign of weakness or vulnerability despite on the verge of breaking down on the inside.

Within a few minutes, the office was left noiseless. Most of the officers who had day shifts proceeded to depart by the hour until you and two others have remained.

For you, it did not matter whether you got paid for overtime from your original schedule. Since you did not have anyone to look forward to when coming home, you preferred to spend most of your hours at work, searching for a way to somehow bring them back.

The chances were so odd and slim. The fact that all your families and friends near your location were wiped out. You could not do anything since you did not know who caused all this disaster, let alone the reasons behind the disappearances.

As your elbows were resting on top of your desk, your head fell onto both your palms. A big sigh was released from your lips countless times already. This wasn’t just getting lonely anymore, you were obsessing over something that was far from your reach.

The plain screensaver of the bureau’s logo was dancing over your desktop. Along with several pictures, specifically one or more for each member of the well-known extra-terrestrial fighting group of Avengers. Their superhero names were scribbled with red ink and pinned onto a small corkboard.

Tony Stark.

The name haunted you to your dreams. The billionaire who brought good and bad things into New York City.

You are not entirely sure why your guts were forcing you to focus on this man amongst the rest of his alliance. But you were just desperate to cling onto any evidence blindly hanging in front of you.

For the entirety of the event, you haven’t had a single report about him. Assuming that he’s been trying to hide from this mess, you tried contacting other bureaus from across the world in search of the man. For months of being very pushy, you have only been getting the same phrases like a broken record.

‘I’m sorry, Agent.’

‘No. We haven’t had any reports about Tony Stark.’

‘My crew has been trying their best, but there aren’t any traces of him.’

‘We assure you we’ll find him sooner or later, Agent.’

‘Please be patient, we don’t have much manpower here anymore.’

For months, you have been at the edge of your seat. Eager to answer the phone at the first ring. If it’s not considered patient then soon enough it’s going to run out. You did not know what backup plan you have once that does happen though.

Maybe going crazy would ironically be the sanest thing to happen.

Nevertheless, you will eventually cross that bridge when you get there. For now, the only option you have is to overwork yourself to the edge of insanity.

“A long day you got there, Agent?” A subordinate of yours passes by with two cups of coffee in her hand. She sets down the other right beside your computer screen and glances at the pictures splayed across your work area.

You groan, a frown still evident as you sat up straight before replying, “Oh tell me about it, I’ve had the longest year.”

She gave you a warm smile, like always around this time of evening. Though only being hired recently after a month of the mysterious disappearing arc, she continued to attend to her shift and adapt as the others would. And despite almost a year of greeting, and often bringing you a cup of coffee, you never really gave any of your attention to her.

This time though, you looked back just as she was about to leave. You were quick enough to get a glance of her name plastered on her identification card connected to a lanyard that draped around her collar.

Agent Maria Hill.

“Agent Hill,” you addressed her. She turned around with a smile, looking neatly as ever with her hair combed and pinned in a neat bun.

“Yes?”

"Thanks for the coffee, like every night." Your gratitude combines with a warming smile that reaches out for her. Though appearing exhausted from staring at a screen and documents for hours, you tried to look your best when facing her.

"It's no big deal." Her reply trails down to murmur a few indistinctive words that you merely brushed off, assuming that it was nothing but a nice gesture.

Before her figure could entirely exit the vicinity of your workplace, you swiftly chirped, "And thanks for being so nice to me!" A chuckle was heard from her, leaving off with a smile as she walked away without responding anything in return.

Immediately, your mood shifted again returning to your usual distressed state of mind.

The coffee you drank earlier was wearing off from your system. You could drink the cup your colleague had offered, but you figured it could not do much now that your body could only harbor caffeine to such an extent. A twelve-hour shift with merely half an hour of lunch break would not leave you, or anyone, at best. By sooner, your eyelids were getting heavy, risking to doze off at work.

Your fingers reached to move your mouse, dragging the cursor along with the useless mail your inbox has been receiving. Each of them took that least bit of hope of finding Stark, making you feel caged and haunted every day as there is not any progress in a year.

Again, you groan, louder this time. Other agents around could have heard you yet shrugged your frustration casually since they have witnessed it for months. You ball your fists and slam it against your desk, rough enough to make a sound echo throughout the room, but not enough to break it into two.

“Fuck, I need the rest,” you admit to yourself.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

24 hours

Days have passed. Like usual – nothing.

As always, your routine started just as you were walking to the agency. However, amidst peacefully walking at the pavement, trying to get even a hint of peace of mind, the phone tucked inside the pocket of your jacket started ringing.

The name of your agency was the first thing you have noticed as you faced the small screen. Moreover, you did not hesitate to slide the green phone button to answer.

“Hel–”

Just as you were about to offhandedly greet the person at the other line, they made their way to cut the conversation fearfully.

“They found him! They found him, Agent!” The fearful yet impressed tone was evident, and eventually, you realized that the familiar voice belonged to Agent Hill.

Nonetheless, your mind started wandering to different scenarios, jumping to conclusions like a kid. Despite barely hearing anything other than they caught someone, you were sure looking as joyful as ever. It was as if every bit of hope you lost each week have been restored.

For a short while of daydreaming, you have recovered quickly. Moreover, inquire about the context of what she’s trying to refer to. “What do you mean you’ve found him, Hill?”

Your heart raced quickly. The tension behind finding out who it was was far from the reality of it being a pause for mere seconds.

Please say you have found Stark. Your mind could only pray harder for those words to be repeated from the other end of the call.

“The team found one of the members of the Avengers,” she answers.

“Which one of them?”

“It’s Steve Rogers.”

Your world partly crumbled after hearing a different name compared to what you were expecting. Nevertheless, happy enough that you were progressing on the vision you have laid out.

“Hold on, I’ll be at the station in a few minutes.” You assert, turning around the corner of a street you were approaching. From here, there was a fair five-minute jog until your office. Considering that it was early morning, you did not hesitate to start speeding your pace.

Right now, as if things escalated so quickly

Once you arrived, you passed vacant offices until reaching the interrogation room. The other officers were gathered outside it, facing the two-way mirror that displayed the known Captain America.

Maria Hill was standing closest to the mirror. Getting the best view of the super-soldier sitting peacefully inside the room. You approached her with a confused look upon your face.

“How did you even find him?”

“It’s a long story, there were two of them though we could only catch up with Mr. Rogers,” she explains.

“Alright.” You motioned for your other colleagues to return to their original tasks. Both you and Agent Hill were left, given privacy to talk about what should be done.

“Give me a moment with him, I’ll try to see what information we can get.” Agent Hill nods at you and hands over a folder. She gestures for you to take a step inside the room and reassures that she will be outside to act as a witness.

As you enter the room, it felt colder in addition to the resentful stare coming from Captain America himself. His gaze does not leave you, following your trail up until you reach the metal chair and take a seat in front of him.

Your back begins to sweat even after barely interacting with him. You did not know what could happen. For all you know, he could rip his handcuffs and beat your face over the table.

Nonetheless, you tried to look as assertive as possible. Adjusting your posture to feel comfier in your seat and clasped both palms of your hands over each other. You look in front, seeing the man still staring at you.

You took a deep breath to prepare yourself “Nice to see you in Manhattan again, Mr. Rogers.” Your voice was close to breaking, but you disregarded it. This is your nearest encounter with a superhero, so it would be normal for anyone to feel pressured.

The soldier raises one eyebrow at your greeting. He pulls back and slumps on his chair, acting as if he’s the one probing the detainee. “Been keeping track of me, ma’am?”

The tone of his voice instantly became cocky. Even so, smirking while his gaze shifts from the floor and back at you.

“I have been keeping track of the Avengers for these past months,” you affirm. To prevent a boost of ego in his system, you also added, “But I wasn’t specifically keeping my eye on you, Captain.”

He imitates an offended look, placing one of his cuffed hands over his left chest. “Ouch. Was expecting a pretty woman like you tracking down America’s Golden Boy.”

“Nonetheless, do tell me which one of us were you looking for. Is it Stark?” You tried to ignore his mood swings. The sudden change of being quiet, then proceeding to act hurt, and now seeming provoked even if you had not given any answers yet.

You figured it was best to ignore his question.

“Mr. Rogers, may I know what you were doing here in Manhattan and who you were with–”

“I asked you a question first,” he reminds.

“Look, sir, I don’t think it will help if I’m the one answering questions here,” you sigh. “So if you could please cooperate with us.”

“Cooperate? Why would I?” He scoffs. “You can only detain me here for seventy-two hours at most. Considering that you have no evidence against me, you can only hope to pray for a miracle.”

His attitude was not at all welcoming. Your blood started to boil at the man seated in front of you, acting as if he is completely innocent about all this.

“Is it true that you aren’t withholding any information about the disappearance of half of the world population?” You argue with a brow raised at him.

“I know nothing,” the man answers.

“And if you do know something, that’s obstruction of justice. You know that right, Captain?”

He smiles faintly. This time he breaks his stare, looking at the floor while answering, “Yes I do, ma’am. Very well.”

His expressions were starting to drive you crazy. You were used to this kind of scenario back when things were normal. Though after the events transpired, it has been a year without you interrogating someone who was held inside this room. You’ve gotten subpar upon looking like an intimidating officer.

“Okay then.” You nod, “Can you explain to me why you and your accomplice tried to run away from the cops.”

“We didn’t,” he said, ever so boldly. “Your friend, over there, spotted us and tried to cuff us immediately. Which one of you thought that was a good idea?”

Your gaze follows onto the large mirror placed near the door of the room. You could only see both you and Steve Rogers, but you knew Agent Hill was at the other side listening to your conversation.

“Look, half of the population mysteriously disappeared,” you sigh in between, “it’s not something a normal person would be able to perform. Can you blame us for following up on the Avengers?”

“I guess not then, ma’am.” He nods, accepting your statement. “Still won’t change the fact that I have no idea about all these disappearances, yeah?”

“Right, then tell me who were you with before Agent Hill decided to detain you here.” You lean back while crossing both your arms against your chest. Your teeth lightly bit the insides of your cheeks as you tried to hold out a frustrated sigh.

“Well, I was with Nat,”

“Nat? Natasha Romanoff?” You raise your chin, intrigued to find out more. “Five-foot five, Russian assassin, shoulder-length vermillion hair, Natasha Romanoff?”

“That’s impressively accurate.” Steve Rogers chuckles in front of you again before adding, “Except that she’s blonde now.”

You tried to take in a few minutes to grasp the information. The silence prods through your thoughts as you analyze the possibilities, perceiving that maybe, just maybe, you’re a few steps closer to Tony Stark.

But the man disrupted your thoughts, “Still don’t know why you’re holding us custody despite all this. You won’t get anything, might as well cut to the chase.”

“You’re quite a smart-mouth there, Captain.”

“And you’re quite eager to find about Stark, Agent,” he mocks. You throw your head back in defeat. This was going nowhere and both of you knew it.

Instead, you push against the table so you could finally stand up. You rest both your palms flat against the cold metal table, arms stretched wide to balance your weight out. “I think that’s enough for today.” You grab the untouched folder before turning to your side to walk towards the door. “Thank you for trying to cooperate with us, Mr. Rogers.”

As you head out, you noticed that Agent Hill was already out of sight. She most likely headed to do her job rather than to stand and watch you and Steve exchange nonsense.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

As you get home, you dressed into casual home clothes and headed to bed.

You could not entirely fall asleep. The super-soldier was stuck in your mind, frustrating you into the depths of it.

You tried to ponder, grabbing the folder of compiled documents that Agent Hill handed you over earlier. As you opened it, the first layer of it was pictures of Steve Roger’s face throughout the week. You guessed that they were not just trailing him today, but also studied his moves for the past week.

Furthermore, you flipped through pictures of him and his crew, but they looked like they were not in taken in New York. It was dark and the faces of Steve, Natasha, two other persons in the background could be seen fairly.

“Huh.” You furrowed your eyebrows realizing that there were more details about them that you expected. For a while also wondering why Hill did not updated you about these at least.

But eventually you acknowledged that you were so busy figuring out information about Tony Stark, that you forgot that the other superheroes he has worked with were just as significant.

Steve Rogers. Natasha Romanoff. Sam Wilson. Location: Edinburgh, Scottland 21:32. April 2018

Steve Rogers. Natasha Romanoff. Location: Manhattan, New York 13:05. October 2019

His beard remained almost the same despite the year difference. His golden hair was brushed backed sleekly. His appearance was still alike a year ago which meant that he was trying to maintain that kind of appearance

Compared to his clean, shaved aura back in 2012, you can admit that he looks way more intimidating now. You did not know whether he was trying to look different to prevent the bureau from recognizing him or if it was because he wanted to look like some creepy degenerate.

Nonetheless, there were a lot of questions running around your mind. It was only tonight when you finally got to grasp on who and what you’re dealing with.

However, your comprehensive scanning was interrupted after hearing a tap on your window. It did not sound as terrifying as it would, but it was loud enough to interrupt your thoughts from getting further.

In the end, you set the files on top of your nightstand and switched on your lamp. You lay in your bed, eyes sealed shut yet your mind still wanders off, trying to fit together the pieces of the puzzle.

When drifting to sleep, the most evident question strayed:

Why was Steve Rogers, and his team, staying in Manhattan, despite hiding completely undisturbed in Edinburgh?

#dark!steve #dark!steve smut #dark!steve x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve rogers imagine #dark steve rogers #dark steve x reader #dark steve rogers imagine #dark steve #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans imagine #chris evans smut #dark!fic

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impracticaldemon · 5 years

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Hijikata’s Holiday

by impracticaldemon for @nollatooru ~ from Your HakuSanta

fandom: Hakuouki words: 1500 (laugh track)(oops, no) ~ 5100 words read also on: AO3 | FFN [added December 27, 2018]

Author’s Note: This story is intended to take place in the winter after my story Do As I Say (also for nollatooru, so this isn’t just a shameless self-reference). I was thinking December 1865, which could work; however, although Itou and his faction joined the Shinsengumi in late 1864, they are not mentioned in this story. The word count was already out of hand with the original cast alone. Nollatooru requested Hijikata, HijiChi, Okita & cats, or anyone & cats. I’ve tried to deliver. Posted first on tumblr!

tags: @shell-senji @eliz1369 @rainylune @nalufever @petri808 @hidetheremote @resshiiram @kondo-hijikata @hakuyamazakisensei @flower-dragon @shibuemiyuu @writer-appreciation @sabinasanfanfic @eheartangel @hakuokisecretsanta2018

Hijikata’s Holiday

It started with an absence of noise. Still half-asleep, Hijikata turned puzzled eyes on the window screen. How odd. Judging by the light filtering through the thick paper, it was past dawn—in fact, it was past his usual time to get up. Today was a festival day, but that usually meant more of a clatter, not less. There wouldn't be captains and sub-officers nursing hangovers until tomorrow.

He sat up reluctantly. Winter in Kyoto was cold, and he felt no inclination to leave the warmth of his futon to go find out what could account for the strange silence. Given the time, he'd probably missed his chance to write, which dimmed what little enthusiasm he had for facing the chill weather, today's major and minor headaches—Sōji usually accounting for both—and the dinner meeting he had with the new Sub-Comptroller of Kyoto to discuss the Shinsengumi's urgent need for extra rations over the winter months.

It took several moments to register that the room wasn't cold. In fact, it was quite pleasant, if not precisely warm. A glance at the brazier told him that somebody had tended it during the night. The fact that he hadn't woken was worrisome, but he wasn't altogether surprised. He'd recognized the tea that Chizuru had brought him last night as Sannan's 'special' blend, which meant that it was laced with soporific. He would have objected, but the girl had poured it with a soft smile, and murmured that "Kondō-san sent his best regards, and would Hijikata-san please rest well this evening." The last time he'd refused the evil brew, Kondō had brought it himself, tricked him into drinking it, and then refused to let him work late for a week straight. (1)

A quick—and slightly apprehensive—look around the room gave him a modicum of reassurance that although somebody had been in his room, it was more likely Saitō than Sōji. He'd like to think that he'd have woken for anyone less familiar, or less soft-footed. The whole thing was idiotic anyway—what kind of military force gave their Vice Commander a sleeping draught?

Huh. He'd misplaced his inkstone yesterday, but now it was sitting on his desk. And... there was a small bowl containing an evergreen sprig and something leafy with red berries. He doubted—really doubted—that the arrangement was Saitō's. Not that the art of flower arrangement was necessarily beyond Saitō, but there was an air of subdued festivity about it... if there was such a thing. He refused to accept even the possibility that Sōji might have made it for him. For Kondō maybe. If he lost a bet. And even then, he'd cut the greenery with his sword.

It was quite a quite an attractive grouping, actually—

The enduring fir supports the crimson berry that braves winter's chill.

He was out of bed and reaching for his writing materials before he realized it. Well, damn. He glanced again at the window. Nobody had come for him yet—or been sent by Sannan, in a fit of hypocritical concern. The man had once told Yukimura to wake him, on the pretext that he was late for breakfast. He'd been dressing when she'd arrived, which had annoyed him and flustered the hell out of her. Although... her comments to herself in the immediate aftermath had been pretty funny, poor kid. Yeah, but you didn't mind the admiration, did you? He had found it very... honest... after the careful flattery of the Shimabara geisha, and the half-fearful simpering of the city girls.

Hijikata couldn't see, and would have denied, the reminiscent smile that hovered on his lips. Meanwhile, he had drawn his writing book from his desk, and was quickly preparing ink in the ceramic tray. Minutes passed, while he inscribed his new haiku. Satisfied, he set aside his materials, replaced the book under the patrol log kept on top in the (so far utterly vain) hope of keeping his hobby from prying eyes, and took out fresh linen and his carefully folded hakama.

He was half-way through changing when there was a polite "Shitsureisimasu, Hijikata-san, Yukimura desu," at the door. (2) For one, wild moment, he was overwhelmed with déjà vu, and some part of him contemplated not saying anything just to see what would happen. Happily—probably—the moment passed. A second, soft, "Hijikata-san?" got him out of his fugue.

"Just a moment, Yukimura." Then, impelled by the gods knew what: "Unless you'd prefer to come in while I'm dressing?"

There was a pause—the kind of pause that you can hear—and finally, "I will wait, Hijikata-san."

Unlike last time, there was a murmur of conversation, and he realized that somebody—presumably one of the captains, was with Yukimura. Annoyingly, that brought a touch of heat to his cheeks, but it faded quickly, and he stalked over to the door and slid it open with a snap.

It turned out that Yukimura had been expecting him to call her in. She was standing just outside the door, a tray with tea and breakfast—both still miraculously hot and steaming—clasped tightly in both hands. Thanks to her lack of inches, and his expectation that she'd be farther from the door, he saw Saitō before seeing Yukimura. …Not only Saitō. Yamazaki was there as well. They stood behind Yukimura on the engawa, looking for all the world like retainers to some under-dressed, underfed princeling.

"Saitō? Ohayo, Yukimura, Yamazaki."

Fortunately, Saitō didn't seem to mind, or care, that he'd been missed from Hijikata's "good morning." Indeed, Hijikata rarely found Saitō's lack of expression to be off-putting; most of the time he found it a welcome calm in the daily drama that running the Shinsengumi entailed.

"Ohayogozaimasu, Fukuchō. I will come in with Yukimura, if I may."

Hijikata stepped out of the way, but his gaze was irresistibly drawn to the garden beyond the wooden walkway. There was a fine layer of snow on everything, but it lay completely undisturbed, with the exception of the footprints of—presumably—his companions. He observed that Yamazaki had taken up a position not far from his door, but the whole morning was beginning to take on such a surreal aspect that he couldn't quite bring himself to ask about it just yet.

Once the men were seated opposite each other, and Yukimura had set down his breakfast tray—he felt his eyes widen a little at the carefully-prepared meal—Saitō began his report. Not that it was precisely a report, it was just that Saitō made everything sound like a report. He was a first-rate swordsman, and an excellent officer, but he couldn't tell an interesting story to save his life. Nagakura swore that he loosened up when he was talking to inanimate objects, but that only happened when he was very drunk, and Hijikata was rarely around for that kind of serious drinking these days.

"The Commander was concerned by your absence at dinner, Vice Commander. As you requested, I told him that you were speaking with officials at the Comptroller's office in order to set up a meeting to discuss the current shortage of rations."

"Did you remind him that the last load of rice we received was not only short-weighted, but full of freaking weevils?! We had to toss out four bags, and decontaminate the kitchen storage area!"

"Commander Kondō remembered the incident, Vice Commander."

"Excuse me, Hijikata-san—your tea. Saitō-san—your tea."

Hijikata automatically thanked Yukimura for filling his cup, then felt his brows contract inward—well, further inward—when he saw her look furtively at Saitō, who clearly blinked in return. It reminded him to pursue his original question, once he'd wrested back control of the conversation.

"You flirting with Yukimura now, Saitō? Didn't expect it from you."

"No, Vice Commander." Saitō left it at that, but Yukimura reddened and leapt at the bait.

"Oh no, Hijikata-san, o-of course not! But Kondō-san said that Saitō-san shouldn't let you get too worked up—I mean, too worried—about the rice, because—"

"Colonel Sannan has already agreed to pursue the matter on behalf of the Shinsengumi," interposed Saitō, in his uninflected voice. "He said that he would be delighted to attend the dinner meeting this evening."

"Delighted," muttered Hijikata.

"Sannan-san said that he hadn't had the chance to meet the new staff at the Imperial Comptroller's office. He truly did seem very pleased, Hijikata-san." Yukimura smiled cheerfully, and just as Hijikata was concluding that she had no idea how scary the soft-spoken man could be, she added thoughtfully, "I realize that the last official quit after Sannan-san investigated the Shinsengumi's rice allocation, but we didn't have problems for many months after, right?" Her expression had become unusually serious. "Sannan-san said he would do whatever was necessary to protect the needs of our men, and Kondō-san agreed that healthy food was very important."

Hijikata risked a look at Saitō, who met his gaze without comment. Yukimura could be surprisingly fierce when it came to looking after the Shinsengumi, and Hijikata should have remembered that she'd taken the latest food shortage to heart.

"Fine. But why are you two here explaining all this to me anyway?" He gave them both a 'don't mess with me' look, or tried to. Chizuru was too busy pouring him more tea to notice—she had a way of making it just the right temperature from the start, so that he tended to finish it quickly.

"The Commander suggested that you would appreciate a holiday," said Saitō. "Yukimura, Sōji, and I were given the task of ensuring that you are able to enjoy the day." Being Saitō, he stopped there, having expressed the salient point.

"A holiday?! No, wait—Sōji is supposed to make sure that I enjoy a holiday?" Hijikata automatically looked around for the green-eyed… man. Menace to my existence is more like it… Not even Kondō would expect Sōji to—well maybe—no, surely not?

"Hai. Along with Yukimura and myself." It took Hijikata a moment to recollect himself and realize that Saitō was answering his question.

"But everyone is helping out," Yukimura rushed to reassure him. If 'reassure' was the right word. "Kondō-san was worried when you missed dinner—as Saitō-san mentioned—because it was the third time this week." Hijikata thought there was a disapproving edge to her voice, but her expression was as sweet and earnest as ever, gods help him.

"Yukimura noted the frequency of your absences," murmured Saitō, gazing down into his tea.

"R-right! But Sannan-san agreed to go to the dinner, and Nagakura-san and Harada-san said they'd conduct an early morning patrol today, and no drills, so that nobody would be around this morning—but also because it makes sense to check that things are safe for the holiday crowds—"

"Uh-huh." Fascinated despite himself, Hijikata began to calmly eat his breakfast. The room was warm enough that his delicately flavoured miso soup was still remarkably hot. It was obvious that Sōji's help—whatever it was—hadn't extended to breakfast, thank the gods.

"And I asked Heisuke-kun if he'd be willing to hunt ducks or geese this morning so that I could make us all a nice holiday dinner later this afternoon before everyone goes out for the evening. He thought that was a great idea until—um…" Yukimura suddenly stopped talking.

"Sōji reminded Heisuke of the last time that we shared a meal of Yukimura's duck hot pot." All three people present shared a moment of silence as they each visualized Heisuke's piece of duck flying through the air and hitting Hijikata square in the middle of the forehead. It had not gone well for the cheerful Eighth Division Captain after that.

"Y-yes, well, Okita-san just said that this was Heisuke's chance to make up for it, and so—and so, that's all settled!"

"Really, now?" Hijikata couldn't quite visualize how such a comment would settle anything, but he was willing to bet he would find out.

"I needed to discuss a scheduling issue with Sōji at that point, and I believe that Yukimura arranged any further details with Heisuke, Vice Commander."

"I see. So Harada and Nagakura just happened to volunteer for an early patrol—"

"That is correct, Vice Commander."

"And Heisuke's off hunting ducks, or geese—are you sure he'll be safe? The marsh area is very cold this time of year." Heisuke was a lot tougher than he looked, but he was also a magnet for disaster—according to his own view of things. Most people felt he invited disaster in with open arms, although he was ably aided and abetted by his brothers in idiocy.

"Shimada-san went with him, Hijikata-san. He said that he would be happy to spend time out bird-hunting with Heisuke-kun. I made sure to pack them a good lunch, and I included a few sweetened rice cakes."

Saitō didn't bother to elaborate on this, since Shimada was known for his love of sweets, and was very fond of Yukimura. He also adored Kondō, and had probably stepped in quite willingly to help out with this wild scheme to "give" Hijikata a holiday.

"I'm still a little puzzled on a few points," Hijikata said, with an air of polite inquiry. Like, what the hell is Sōji up to?

"I made sure that this courtyard was secure overnight," noted Saitō placidly.

"Oh—oh yes. And Yamazaki-san will be on duty this morning. To… to make sure that the courtyard remains secure—and peaceful, as is proper for a holiday."

"Needed to get some use out of the scarf, Saitō? Or did it dawn on somebody that leaving me defenseless to assassins for the sake of a few hours of sleep was less than optimal?"

Yukimura looked suitably concerned by the mention of assassins, but Saitō obviously felt that he had already dealt with that topic. He addressed Hijikata's first question with no trace of the sarcasm with which it had been asked.

"I was adequately equipped for the cold. The Commander allocated me extra coal for a brazier." Saitō bowed. "Please excuse me, Vice Commander. Sōji and I will be sparring together this morning over at the Mibu Temple grounds, and then we plan to visit a swordsmith who is reputed to be better than average at sharpening blades."

"You won't be sticking around Saitō? What will Yukimura do if I suddenly try to exert myself by doing my job?"

Saitō said nothing, and Hijikata finally relented and waved at him to go. Yukimura was very slowly tidying his now-empty tray.

"Since I have my writing things, am I at least allowed to get through some of my back-log of reports?"

Yukimura shook her head, looking anxious, but determined.

"Kondō-san asked me to bring him your list of reports to be filed."

"And?" How did Yukimura even know that he had that list, or where to look? Although technically she was his page, and these days she managed to spend some of her time running errands for him, despite his original plans for her (or lack thereof).

"He said that only the marked items were to be dealt with today." She brought out a piece of scrap paper—his scrap paper—and handed it to him.

There were only two marked items, and one of them had clearly been added by Kondō: 'finish summary of important points to make perfectly clear to the goat-fucking asswipes at the comptroller's office'—that hadn't been meant for Kondō's eyes! Or Yukimura's, now that he considered it—and 'buy a new coat'. Seriously? Buy a new coat? They needed food! And they were still dealing with the reputation as deadbeats foisted on them by the late, unlamented Serizawa Kamo.

"Yukimura."

"Hai!"

"Did you see this list?"

She obviously had. It showed in little ways—such as how she was practically staring at the admittedly threadbare haori he'd brought with him from Edo. But if he didn't let its condition bother him, then what was the problem?

"Kondō-san told me which items to point out to you, Hijikata-san."

"I don't need a new coat. The coat I have is fine. And when I'm out on patrol I've got my blues."

"You never wear your coat when you go out, Hijikata-san, even though you dislike the cold."

"I don't mind the cold."

There was a long silence, during which both combatants reconsidered their tactics. As a junior, and a subordinate, Yukimura should not contradict Hijikata. Or as a woman, especially since she wasn't his wife. Another good reason not to get married, as if I needed another one. Anyway, it had been tactically unsound for Yukimura to say that he disliked the cold. A true warrior didn't let the elements bother him, and he knew that she didn't want to offend him.

"…Hijikata-san?"

"Yes, Yukimura?" He held out his cup for more tea, feeling that he could be gracious in victory.

"I asked Kondō-san whether it would alright for me to improve your old—I mean, current—coat, by adding a new lining."

"You asked Kondō-san? But why—" Hijikata broke off, perturbed.

"Well, Kondō-san and Inoue-san were discussing the time you all spent together at Shiei Hall, as they sometimes do, after dinner two nights ago, and I happened to be cleaning up the dining hall, and Kondō-san asked me if you still had the haori you used to like so much. I asked him what it looked like, just to be sure, and then Inoue-san described it, and he told me that it was made especially for you by a good tailor, and that you were very fond of it."

Hijikata resisted the urge to smack his hand into his face, but it was a near thing. Unfortunately, Yukimura continued on, nearly tripping over her words as she tried to get it all out.

"And I was surprised to hear that, because you never wear that coat, so I asked Kondō-san if maybe I should fix it up a little, but Inoue-san said that you preferred to wear nice clothes, that weren't patched, and then Kondō-san agreed. So I suppose that's where it all started." She was slightly breathless, but added: "And even if you don't mind the cold, I worry that if you don't wear a coat in this weather, then you will get sick."

Many words floated through Hijikata's head, mostly unprintable. He drew a deep breath, and tried to ignore the half-anxious, half-stubborn look on Yukimura's face that always reminded him of—oh, his sister, his sister-in-law, his aunt, and the countless other women he'd grown up with. It didn't work, so he reined in his temper—because at the end of the day he was a practical man—and turned and examined his old coat. The truth was that he didn't wear it because it looked shabby, and fucking Serizawa—he rarely thought that name without an epithet—had been right about appearances, but he really didn't like being cold, even if he wouldn't say so.

"So I'm supposed to buy a new coat?"

"Yes?"

"Because to hell with rice, you're worried I'll get a cold?" He was giving in, but determined to go down fighting.

"Sannan-san will deal with the rice situation, I believe in him. Also, he is taking Okita-san with him this time."

"…As long as they don't tell me where they hide the bodies."

"Hijikata-san?" Yukimura had that reproving look again. "Okita-san said that he would smile and be very polite. He knows that we don't want you to worry."

He stared at her, but she seemed genuinely confident about the whole thing.

"And is that Okita's contribution to my, ah, day off?"

"Okita-san said that he wanted to help in any way that he could."

"Uh-huh."

"And Saitō-san said that the best way to help would be to stay out of the compound."

"Good man. I'd give him a raise, but I need to buy a new coat."

"…Yes? So I'll go get ready then?" Yukimura looked both relieved and pleased.

Hijikata debated telling her that he could damn well shop for a coat on his own. But the look on her face… She'd be crushed, probably, and he had a feeling that Kondō had already told her to go with him. So for her sake, and Kondō's—since they'd obviously spent so much effort on all this—he'd take her along. She'd slow him down by staring at all the people in town for the festival, but he'd manage. And if he was going to spend the money it would cost for a decent coat, then he could afford to spend just a little on a couple of sweets for her, and maybe a small souvenir.

"Right—go get ready, and I'll meet you at the gate. I need to add a couple of things to this memo for Sannan-san on the… rice situation." And I want to tell him to make damn sure Sōji doesn't 'accidentally' kill anyone.

"Hai!" Yukimura immediately stopped fussing with the tray, and hurried off as though Hijikata might change his mind if she didn't leave fast enough.

Chizuru spent a blissful morning and early afternoon out shopping with Hijikata. She made sure not to talk too much—although Hijikata-san didn't seem to mind her questions, for once—and she tried not to skip—something that Okita-san had teased her about in the past when she'd been excited about leaving Shisengumi headquarters—and whenever they stopped to look at coats she tried to remember to behave like a boy, and not a girl. She was extremely embarrassed when one shopkeeper told her that she obviously admired the Vice Commander a great deal, but that he, for one, didn't think that boys should be recruited so young.

They saw both Harada's and Nagakura's patrols in the distance a few times, but somehow, they never actually crossed paths with one. Even Chizuru began to suspect that this was not just by chance (or mischance). Fortunately, Hijikata-san seemed to find it amusing, so it didn't turn into a problem.

Eventually, Hijikata-san chose a coat. Or rather, he chose a style, and a material, and paid to have a coat made for him, which impressed Chizuru a great deal. After that, they stopped at a shop for tea, and although Chizuru meant to serve the tea, Hijikata-san said not to bother, so she didn't. He said that if others found it strange for the Vice Commander of the Shinsengumi to stoop to having tea and snacks with his page, then so be it.

"I suppose you should get back so that you can cook dinner," said Hijikata, when they left the tea shop. "Although it's optimistic of you to believe that Heisuke can catch anything but a cold. I predict you'll be trying to find yet another way to cook salted fish."

"Heisuke caught two excellent ducks last time."

"Ah, but flailing around in the water I can see. It's the patience required for winter hunting that I'm not so sure about."

Chizuru firmly quelled a momentary qualm or two. "He'll be fine. He has Shimada-san with him. They'll come back safe and sound, with food."

"Hm. Well, Shimada is very reliable; but he's with Heisuke, so who knows what will happen."

When they eventually returned to headquarters, they discovered that they were both wrong, or alternately, both right. Heisuke had caught not one, but two birds—migrating geese—and poor Shimada had slipped and fallen into the swampy muck. The big man brightened up considerably when Heisuke assured him that nobody needed to know about the incident—other than Chizuru, who wouldn't tell—because he could keep his mouth shut, and knew what it was like to be teased by certain people who should be kinder to their fellow officer. Chizuru declined Heisuke’s help with dinner, but praised him so effusively for catching the geese that he left to warm up in excellent spirits.

Harada and Nagakura popped their heads into the kitchen part-way through the afternoon, to say that all was well, and that Hijikata was sitting calmly at his desk writing—though whether it was personal correspondence, or work, they didn't know. Chizuru bowed to both of them, and thanked them earnestly for their hard work that morning. They exchanged knowing looks over her bent head—they'd seen her out and about that morning—and when she straightened, they were both grinning affectionately at her. As tired out as she was from all the walking, and now the dinner preparations, she had to smile back.

"He was in a damn good mood just now, Chizuru-chan," Nagakura told her, "so maybe we're the ones who owe you—he even said not to worry about curfew tonight." He paused in the act of turning away, to add, "Although I still don't know how you kept Sōji out of his hair all day, especially when he was so annoyed over the whole coat thing, and Kondō-san fussing about Hijikata-san not coming to dinner."

"Um, I—I'm not sure what you mean."

She looked so uncomfortable that Harada grabbed his friend's bicep and hauled him away. "Come on, Shin—let's go congratulate Heisuke on providing dinner without either getting hurt, or ticking off the boss."

"Yeah, fine, but you're curious too, Sano."

Their voices trailed away, and Chizuru turned back to her cooking, feeling relieved. She'd promised not to tell, and even if Okita-san thought he was just threatening her, she knew it was very important to keep her promises to him. And he had been a bit upset over Kondō-san saying that Hijikata-san should have a new coat. She didn't completely understand why Hijikata-san and Okita-san didn't get along, since both of them cared so much about Kondō-san and the Shinsengumi, but for now it was enough that she was learning not to be so alarmed by their disagreements.

In the few minutes of quiet time after dinner was prepared, and before it needed to be served, Chizuru took advantage of Inoue-san's offer to watch over things, and slipped away to a smallish gardening shed near the wall of the courtyard. The door slid open before she could knock, and Saitō pulled her quickly inside.

"They're all fine," he said, tilting his head toward the back of the shed.

There against the wall, and carefully concealed from the door by a rack of large burlap sacks, was a kind of nest made up of discarded rags and soft paper. In the center sat a thin black cat with a white muzzle and a white belly. It couldn't be called an attractive cat, since one eye was swollen shut, and it appeared to be missing part of one ear. The four kittens nestled around it—or rather, her—didn't seem to care. They mewled and gently bumped her with their heads, and periodically peered around her legs at the quiet, green-eyed man who was holding out a dish of meat scraps to her.

"It's quite a feast you got her, Chizuru-chan," commented Sōji, watching as the black cat delicately picked out another morsel of goose innard. "Just what she needed."

"I'm glad she's doing better, Okita-san. And oh—the kittens are so sweet!"

"Oi, don't move so fast, or they'll run again. They're not too quick, but it's a pain to catch them, and then mama here fusses."

"Sumimasen, Okita-san." Chizuru put her hands behind her back to keep herself from scooping up one of the fuzzballs for a cuddle.

"Ehn, it's okay—they'll probably be more up to playing tomorrow, ne, Neko-sama?"

Chizuru laughed a little, then quickly covered her mouth. "I'm sorry, Okita-san, but she doesn't look much like a court lady…"

Okita shook his head at her. "You shouldn't be so quick to judge, Chizuru-chan—you don't look much like a lady either, you know."

"Um… that's true, I suppose."

"Anyway, she's a fighter, like the onna-bugeisha."

Chizuru just nodded. She wasn't especially familiar with the women warriors of the samurai caste families, and she still thought the mother cat looked more like street fighter than a noble lady. Not that Chizuru minded, though. She thought the little family needed all the help they could get—and if Okita-san wanted to look after them, then she would help Okita-san.

"Yukimura must return to the house, Sōji. And Sannan-san will be expecting you soon."

"I know, I know." Okita turned to Chizuru.

"You promise to come by with food again later? I don't want to leave any because I don't know if she's up to handling another fight right now."

"I promise."

"And you'll check the water?"

"Hai!"

"Sōji."

"Fine, fine. But we have a deal, right, Chizuru-chan? You don't tell anyone, and you help me look after them while it's so cold."

"It's a deal, Okita-san. And I haven't told anyone."

"Well, I guess we'll see how it goes."

Okita stood up and stretched, his green eyes glinting in the faint lantern light. He almost asked about Hijikata's new coat, but then decided it wasn't worth it. He'd gotten to save the cats—plus a chance to go out with Sannan-san, which might be entertaining, although there were sure to be some dull bits—and Chizuru and Kondō-san were happy, so… he could let it go. Besides, the spar with Saitō had gone well, and he hadn't felt too out of breath, for once.

"Okay, oyasumi, neko-sama."

They all filed out of the shed, careful and quiet in the cold, dark courtyard. And if Hijikata happened to see them returning to the house, and happened to check in the shed before going in to dinner, well, almost nobody knew about it. The one silent observer had been aware of the whole thing from the start, having watched the various comings and going of the headquarters' inhabitants throughout the day. However, since Saitō-san already knew about it, and Hijikata-san didn't seem inclined to interfere—had even appeared to be smiling, just now—Yamazaki certainly had no need to do more than wish, very briefly, that he too were getting a new coat.

End Notes:

(1) See Do As I Say (not just shameless self-referencing, since nollatooru did say she'd enjoy another similar story!)

(2) "Excuse me, Hijikata-san, it's Yukimura"

A/Note: As always, your comments and reviews are very much appreciated. Please never think "I have nothing interesting to say." While a detailed review is a wonderful, precious thing, you can make an author's day with a simple "This was great!" or "Thanks, really enjoyed this!" or even "Eep!" Knowing you're out there, and enjoying my work helps so much! (To those on tumblr: yes, I read all the tags)

I'm taking the time to say this now, because I'm seeing fewer reviews and comments than ever, whether it's on tumblr, FFN, or AO3. I know it can be hard to figure out what to say, but if you can find a minute or two to type some positive feedback, it can help a writer to want to write again. And if you have constructive criticism, or you've seen a typo? All the authors I know, myself included, are grateful for that kind of feedback as well, although it's even better if you can do it directly by private message or something similar.

Note to reviewers/ those who comment: I try to write back to everyone, but it's taking me longer these days. If I haven't written back, I sincerely apologize. If you comment on Anon or Guest, I can’t write back directly, but thank you! Please know that all of your feedback is important to me, regardless.

#hakuouki #haku fanfiction #hijikata toshizo #hijichi #hakuokiss #impracticaldemon #imp writes #nollatooru #haku gift exchange 2018 #i hope you enjoy it!#i enjoy your art and sketches and comics so much!

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kclenhartnovels · 6 years

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The Warm Light of Heaven

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[ @itstheenglishkid @flannelandsarcasm @quill-of-thoth @littlefearsdoodles @polapipo @knightedwriter @gingerly-writing @theguildedtypewriter If you’d like to be added to tagged updates, please let me know ]

For once, the warm light of Heaven was not inviting to Merrick, but instead filled him with a sense of dread that lingered like a wolf in the pit of his stomach. He wasn't even sure why he was so worried—Chael had proved again and again to be a reasonable soul, and he trusted Tyr not to eviscerate Fletcher while he was gone. But that nagging doubt remained chewing on his gut, gnawing away like a snarling hound of Hell with eyes like judgment and teeth like righteous fury.

What if Chael didn't understand?

“You okay, Merrick?” Eztli greeted. She stepped out of one of the training circles, covered in dust and holding a wooden staff lightly in one hand. “You look pale.”

“I'm looking for Chael. Have you seen him?”

“Which is it this time?” she asked with a smile, “Teremun or demons bothering you?”

“I just have something to ask him.”

Her wings fluttered, then folded slowly, unconvinced. “He told me he was going recruiting. Which could either mean he's talking to Teremun about new guardian projects, or he's talking to some other angels to see if they want to get trained. I'm sure he'll be back soon if you want to wait here for him.” She offered him the staff. “You could train with me for awhile?”

He shook his head. “I'll just wait and patch up whoever you bruise later.”

“A medic in three lives, Merrick?” she teased, balancing the staff across the back of her hand. “You know, if you ever grow weary of shepherding souls to heaven, we could use you in the Garrison to keep us patched up. Chael keeps talking about adding a medic to the crew, but I don't think he's found one brave enough to go charging into battle with us.”

“And you think I'm brave enough?” he asked with a smile. “I'm not brave enough to step in the ring with you.”

“There are many different kinds of bravery. They may think me brave to go charging into battle to spill blood, but I don't think it's any less courageous to run into battle to stem it. You stand just as much of a chance of getting killed or injured—more so. A blade defends much better than a medical kit. I don't know that I could do it. Then again,” her smile was that of a jaguar, and a mother, “I have never lived my life without a blade in hand. I'm not sure I would know how to do it.”

Merrick perched on the rail of the training ring, leaning on his hands and watching her with a frown. “You never talk much about your past life.”

She shrugged. “It's not usually a topic of conversation. Most of the other angels are uncomfortable talking to the Garrison about where we came from.” She grinned viciously. “Apparently we have something of a reputation. I've heard plenty of whispers that we don't deserve to be in Heaven, but odd how those whispers die when we walk past. And they are eager enough to send us into battle to protect them.”

“How can they think you don't deserve to get into Heaven? It's not like there are any free passes. I mean, that's why there are guardians, right? To help push people in the right direction—but it's still up to them to make the right choices. The morally corrupt, they won't make it up here. Not on the first try.”

Eztli sat cross-legged in the dirt, resting the staff across her knees and looking up to him. “I wish things were that simple, Merrick. But Heaven is just as political as Earth. Anyone could make an argument that I did not deserve to get up here in my first life, for the lives I took, for living with a man who was not only not my husband, but someone else's husband. I asked Chael about it at one point, and he told me—”

“Entrance into Heaven is not about the deeds that others would judge to be morally corrupt,” Chael finished with a smile, sitting on the fence beside Merrick. “Would you say that piracy is morally adverse?”

“Stealing from others? Yeah,” Merrick answered with a frown.

“What if you were stealing back what was taken from you? What if what you were stealing was human cargo, which you were then freeing? It's still theft, but is it morally wrong then?” He nudged Merrick with his wing, his smile easy. “You see where there is a lot of gray area in the interpretations of Heaven. Eztli is a good person. She is aggressive, proud, intimidating, and fierce, but she is a good person. The decisions she made in life—and the afterlife—are often at the detriment of her own well-being in order to protect those weaker than herself. Sometimes even people she does not particularly like. And not just because I ask it of her, but because she believes it is right.”

“Are you referring to when I saved Teremun?”

Chael smiled. “What prompted this conversation?” he asked, evading her question.

Merrick shook his head. “I was just waiting for you to get back. I wanted to talk to you.”

“I got caught conversing to a very eager young angel who has been listening to too many Garrison stories, I think. I might give you a new sparring partner to see how she does, Eztli,” he added, to which she grinned. “But I'm free now. What did you want to talk about?”

Merrick's wings fluttered nervously. “In private?”

“Of course.” Chael didn't miss a beat, though his gaze lingered on the guardian a touch longer than necessary, as if trying to read his intentions. Merrick felt like a butterfly stuck to a pin. “Eztli, if Dina comes around, put her through her paces, huh? If she lasts a few sparring sessions with you, then I'll see about grooming her to become a permanent part of the Garrison.” He put a hand on Merrick's shoulder to guide the younger angel along with him. “I remember when I had to fight tooth and claw to get any warriors to join me. Now all of a sudden I have volunteers.”

“Why didn't people want to join you before?”

Chael shrugged his white wings. “No one wanted to be associated with the Island of Misfit Toys.”

“The what?”

He laughed. “When I joined the Garrison, we were nothing but cannon fodder for Heaven's armies. A place where the angels who did not really belong went to prove their worth. A lot of us died. Eventually, my commander died in battle, and I stepped up to replace him. I've been able to change things over the years, and we've gone from the expendable ones to Heaven's elite fighting force.” He paused. “Not everyone is happy with that change, but—” He smiled, and said nothing more on the matter, despite Merrick's quizzical expression. He turned towards one of the many walled gardens of Heaven, stepping over a trickle of silver water. “What did you want to talk about?”

Merrick sat down beneath the twisting branches of a tree, its leaves pale yellow and each one tipped in violet blossoms, so that if he looked up through the canopy it seemed to be burning a deep fire. Warmth emanated from the trunk. He pressed his wings against it. “Redemption.”

“You finally made it into Heaven, Merrick,” Chael teased. “You're set.”

Chael's smile was the lighthouse in the storm, and finally the knot in his stomach eased. He sagged back against the tree. “Has there ever been a demon that's made it to Heaven?”

“Yes.” He rested his hands on his knees, watching Merrick closely. “Though not easily, and not without good reason.” He opened his mouth to say more, then seemed to decide against it. “Is this about the demon that Eztli chased away from you?”

He felt such heat rise in his cheeks, and he wished he could blame it on the comforting warmth of the tree at his back. “His name is Fletcher.”

Merrick didn't know what to expect from Chael, even if he had thought about this encounter over and over again. Maybe the Viking would explode in anger, demand to know where this demon was hiding so he could put him down for good. Maybe he would be empathetic, and immediately grant Fletcher the wings Merrick knew he deserved. Maybe he would outline a detailed plan that would involve the whole Garrison, if not the whole of Heaven, to break Fletcher free from the chains of Hell. Maybe he would scoff and call Merrick a child. A thousand different scenarios ran through his head, but instead of any of those, Chael just watched him with a little frown between his eyes, and waited for him to go on.

“He's—” Merrick groped for the words, using his hands for emphasis, as if they could do the pleading for him. “He's a good person, Chael. He's kind, and gentle, and confused. I don't think he deserves to be in Hell. Maybe he's not good enough for Heaven yet, but he isn't evil, or conniving, or—he at least deserves the second chance that I got. I believe in him. I care about him. I lo—” He snapped his mouth shut, and felt his face flush a deeper red.

“Merrick,” Chael sighed, and rubbed at his face a moment. “You know I spend a lot of time in the Library, reading about who the angels in Heaven used to be when they were mortals. I do this to better understand them, especially those in my Garrison, or those otherwise in my radar.”

“Are you saying I'm in your radar?” he asked meekly.

“You are a good medic, Merrick, but maybe not the best guardian.” He held up his hand to stop any protests. “The reason it took you two lifetimes to get to Heaven is not because of your heart. You are selfless, you are brave, and you earnestly want to do what is best for everyone. But you want to help and love everyone so badly, you blind yourself to who they might really be.”

“Chael—”

“Let me finish,” he soothed. “If it had been my decision, I would have given you one more life to lead, one not in a time of war. You need to learn what it's like to be in love and have a relationship, so you stop handing your heart out to every pitiable case with pretty eyes. Let me finish,” he added again when Merrick's mouth opened. “You have a bad habit of falling for the enemy. And I know that this is because you see the good in people, past who they are fighting for. But you're exposing yourself to more danger than I think you realize. Maybe this Fletcher is really worth redemption. It's very likely that he doesn't belong in Hell, but that doesn't necessarily mean he belongs in Heaven.”

“I know what love is, Chael,” Merrick snapped at last.

“You know what it's like to be enamored,” he corrected. “You have no idea how to be in a relationship, to compromise, to love through whatever happens. That's an important thing to learn. I don't doubt that you're capable of it, but I'd hate to think that this demon is just taking advantage of your good nature because you don't know any better.”

“And you're such a good judge of it?” Merrick was sure his heart was going to beat out of his chest, or fire was going to shoot from his ears, or the beast in his stomach would finally tear its way free. He made to rise, but Chael put a hand on his arm, easing him back down.

“I am not trying to make you angry,” he coaxed. “I just want you to think about this a bit more. I will help you, and I will help you keep your secret until we're both sure of Fletcher's intentions.”

Merrick sank back down, his wings trembling. He felt sick, but the fire had died and the beast settled to a low growl. His mind wouldn't stop churning, from the light of Heaven to the demon he had left on the beach, to love and affection, to everything he knew about Chael and the rest of the Garrison, clinging to the knowledge like a weapon. There had to be a way to convince Chael that he was right. “Tyr is your son, right?” he asked after a long silence.

“Yes. Why?”

“Where is your wife? Why isn't she here with you?”

The way Chael's face twisted, Merrick immediately regretted the question, but the older angel answered it anyway. “Souls are complicated, Merrick,” he whispered. “And you don't know everything yet about Heaven and Hell, and which souls are left to reincarnate again on Earth. Now is not the time to discuss it.”

“But I need to understand it, if I'm going to help Fletcher.”

Chael shook his head. “Let's first see if this demon is who you think he is. And if he really wants to be saved.”

“Of course he wants to be saved!”

Chael stood at last, folding his wings. “Just promise me you won't rush into anything, Merrick. And keep me informed as to what's going on, okay? I'm going to go talk to the rest of the Garrison to make sure they don't swoop down and stab him while you're talking with him—or whatever else it is you're doing.”

Merrick snapped his mouth shut quickly, and hugged his knees to his chest. “Tyr is with him right now,” he muttered.

“I'll check in. Stay here and think about it for a little while, huh? Whenever you're ready to go back to Earth, go back down. We'll keep an eye on him until then.”

He nodded numbly, watching Chael leave with that twisting feeling in his stomach remaining. What if Chael was right, and he really was just an assignment?

He couldn't believe that, not after seeing Fletcher like this. Really seeing him, uncertain and afraid. And with all the seals he had placed in the bunker, how could he be checking in with demons anyway? Fletcher wanted to be saved. He wanted to get to Heaven, to get away from the life he was living now.

And Merrick wanted him to be here. Maybe Chael was right about never learning about love and a relationship, but wasn't Fletcher this chance to have it at last? Who else up here would give that to him? He hugged his knees tighter against his chest, swallowing the doubt.

Why wouldn't Chael tell him everything about souls, though? What hadn't Teremun taught him when he first started getting his assignments?

“Are you alright, Guardian?”

The voice was enough to give Merrick chills, and he jerked so abruptly he smacked his wings against the trunk of the tree, showering himself with violet petals. The voice was that of Heaven itself, powerful and permeating, a heavy blanket that could comfort or suffocate, and Merrick found himself choking on his own breath as he looked upon Michael for the first time.

Well, it wasn't really the first time he had seen the archangel. He had heard Michael speak when addressing a crowd of angels, and seen him at a distance, on a pillar and an all-consuming presence. But this close, within arms' reach, Merrick was at a loss for words.

Michael's wings were so large they brushed the ground when he walked, supported by broad shoulders and magic that seemed to pulse just under his skin, almost glowing through the curve of each muscle. His dark hair framed his face like the shadows from moonlight, and in his eyes was the stars, the sun, the light of Heaven. The light that was right now focused on him in soft concern.

“I'm alright,” Merrick croaked at last, pressing his back against the tree.

Michael crouched in front of him, resting his hand on the angel's knee. “Clearly you aren't. What has upset you?”

The touch was electric, and he felt the knot in his stomach unbind at last. He took in a deep breath, looking down at the archangel's fingers, then finally back up to his face. He uncurled a touch, and wondered when the words left his mouth. “I'm tired of being treated like a child.”

Michael chuckled, and sat down across from him, hardly seeming as if he were touching the ground. “You are but a child still compared to many here. Is there something you want to talk about?” His hand found Merrick's, and the angel felt like stars slid into his veins.

Merrick shook his head quickly. “I should get back to my work. I've left Abby alone for too long.” And Fletcher, for that matter. He couldn't let Michael of all people find out that he was flirting with a demon. What would the archangel think? What would he do?

Michael's smile sent his feathers tingling. “You're a good guardian, Merrick. Your job is the most important of Heaven. Don't let anyone make you feel inferior. You are the shepherd of souls, and it is souls that make Heaven strong. Remember that.”

He nodded quickly, and stood so abruptly he nearly hit his head on a low branch. It wasn't until he retreated back to the beach, collected Fletcher, and curled up with him in the bunker that Merrick wondered when Michael had learned his name.

[For more information about the characters, series, and more, click here.] [ Previous | Next ]

#abomination series #fletcher and merrick #angels and demons #original fiction #whew this one wore me out #merrick #chael #eztli #asshole michael #the plot thickens #this chapter was hard for me and I don't know why #hopefully the next will come easier

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crimsonrevolt · 6 years

Photo

Congratulations Chloe you’ve been accepted to Crimson Revolt as Sybill Trewlawney!

↳ please refer to our character checklist

Your application was such a treat to find in our inbox, Chloe! From the expanded traits to the wonderful headcanons you gave, your Sybill is so wonderfully fleshed out. The love you have for her is amazing and we all loved just how well you captured her - ‘she’s always been unafraid to march to the beat of her own drum‘ completely sold us. It’s so clear to see from you application just how much you’ve thought about the role that Sybill has to play in the war and gone into so much detail about her involvement with Aversio it’s such a pleasure to see! We think that Sybill will fit in just wonderfully and we cannot wait to have you both in our roleplay!

Application beneath the cut

OUT OF CHARACTER

INTRODUCTION

Chloe, she/her, GMT, from England

ACTIVITY

Well it’s been a little while since I’ve actively roleplayed so I might start out a little rusty, but given the preference you have for longer threads and your lenient activity limit I’m sure I’ll be around fairly often, like three times a week at least. (to give you a number I’d say like 7/10 on the active scale)

TRIGGERS

*removed for privacy

HOW DID YOU FIND US?

I was looking through the hp rp tag, and to be honest I was looking specifically for a Sybill Trelawney to play that I felt was actually a good representation of her character and also sat within an rp that had a good plot aha

WHAT HARRY POTTER CHARACTER DO YOU IDENTIFY WITH MOST?

Maybe a cliché but I really loved Ginny (in the books of course, don’t EVER get me started with the mess they made of her character in the movies dear god) she was spunky and confident (and ginger like myself, which tbqh has made me slightly bias in favour of the whole Weasley clan. Like you’re telling me not only do they deal w/ shit for being blood traitors but they redheads too??? Hard knock life, my man.) And of course my dear Sybill, who was just trying to be understood in a world that wasn’t quite ready for her.

ANYTHING ELSE?

Nope

IN CHARACTER

DESIRED CHARACTER

Sybill Trelawney

FACE CLAIM

Alycia Debnam Carey isn’t an fc I’ve ever worked with before but after browsing her tag and doing a little research she seems an excellent choice for Sybill in my opinion, and since she’s your chosen fc too I’m sure you’d have no problem with me picking her. (I am also partial to Juno Temple as Sybill, but I kinda feel that’s getting a little overdone)

REASON FOR CHOSEN CHARACTER

Uhhhh this is just a general comment but I really love that you’ve made Sybill a big of a fighter and actually self confident like all the time I see her portrayed as this scared little thing and I don’t think that’s accurate, like I’ve always felt that (at least in her younger years, before the world beat her down a bit) Sybill would have been a passionate and confident woman with faith in her gift and a desire to set the world to rights. Her words aren’t always tactful, sure, but I think everything Sybill says she says because she thinks it needs to be heard.

When I first read about this Aversio group you’d created I wasn’t sure that putting Sybill in with such people was the right choice but after a little thought the idea really grew on me. I think Sybill’s visions have forced her to witness so much death and destruction that she has been powerless to prevent, and who wouldn’t be made angry like that? Who wouldn’t grab the first chance that came along to take back some of that power, to try and defend the people she loved? Sybill is part of this group for all the right reasons. She’s fighting for freedom and safety, but she’s not naïve, she doesn’t think the order sitting around and just waiting to form counter attacks are doing enough. I also feel she was something of a loner in school and despite being quite clever was never really invited into or considered for the order and so perhaps this comes from the ever so slight niggling urge she has to prove herself, because despite being a hippy dippy seer she’s also capable of affecting change and taking part in things. (If anything her visions and prophecies have only made her more determined to change the world, for she will have seen how truly tits up everything could go.)

I just have a longstanding love for Sybill, she’s always been unafraid to march to the beat of her own drum. Like, refusing to take on the name ‘higglebottom’ and so causing the end of your own marriage?? That’s hardcore. That’s a woman who won’t take no shit. Yeah, I love Sybill and I am forever searching for an rp with what I feel is an accurate representation of her. This is getting long so I’ll wind it down now, but if you’d like to hear anything more about my love for Syb pls just do message me lmao.

PREFERRED SHIPS // CHARACTER SEXUALITY // GENDER & PRONOUNS

Sybill has always been wary of romance and love. With her gift it is easy to see the multitude of ways things can fall apart. Not only that, but it is hard to find someone with complete faith in this gift of hers, someone who truly believes all her madcap ramblings and feels the power of nature and the universe as much as she does. (Of course, she would only ever settle down with someone who believed in this power as much as she did and yet like her was not afraid to question it.) Sex is different to romance, though, I think Sybill views sex as something much simpler and it’s very much a pleasure she indulges in without ever feeling guilty about it. Honestly I think she can be quite the flirt when she wants, not ashamed of her desire to lure a man or woman into her bed for the night, because why should we deny ourselves such a simple craving? We shouldn’t.

As far as ships go I’m very happy just to go with the flow, nothing prioritised. Sybill goes by she/her pronouns, did consider them/they for a while but after some contemplation in the forest realised her energy was decidedly feminine in its nurturing and care, even if it was a little wilder and more adventurous. (Sexuality I touched on a little above, i feel like she’d be very fluid about it and call herself bisexual if pushed on the subject)

CREATE ONE (OR MORE!) OF THE FOLLOWING FOR YOUR CHARACTER:

-EXPAND ON THE TRAITS

Self-assured- Sybill has gotten comfortable with her gift of sight, and by extension- since she’s long felt like that was the most drastic aspect of her personality- the rest of herself. She’s confident in who she is and the doubts of others can no longer throw her off her chosen course.

Free-spirited- spends a lot of time out in nature, but its much more than that. Sybill is very unassuming and so as long as what/who you are is not a cause of harm (for example, unless you are a death eater) she is quite happy to not only let you continue with your life and hobbies, but likely also interested in learning about it. She is happy for you to be in love, she is happy for you to mindlessly fuck, she is happy for you to abstain and spend all your time writing. As long as your soul is good and warm, you can be counted as a friend of Sybill’s.

Crafty- well, there’s the obvious definition of her being artistic which is true, Sybill likes to paint and tell fanciful stories and take one mans trash to make into her own treasure. But her crafty mind also makes her quite statistical, she can wriggle her way out of almost any problem and really earns her keep as one of the strategic minds of Aversio.

Genuine- Another fairly obvious I feel. Some of the stuff Sybill says may be odd, but she means every word of it. This applies to her actions too. She has not one conniving or manipulative bone in her body, she never lies. Everything Sybill does is honest and true to the core of who she is.

Dreamer- constantly lost in her own world. Idealistic almost to a fault, often too optimistic about the future. Sometimes too optimistic about the present and so gets herself into dangerous situations just because she underestimated the circumstances.

Emotional- oh GOD if you criticise Sybill’s shoes she will CRY for a week. If you call her pretty in passing it will make her smile all year. Let me be clear here I don’t think Sybill holds grudges or has preferences, but I think she remembers everything that people do and everything impacts her as much as it did at the time it truly happened (does that make sense? Every time she remembers that Lily once complimented her hair it fills her with the same joy as the initial compliment did, for example.) I think this is why her gift takes such a toll on her, every bad thing that happens (whether it really ends up happening or not) affects her psyche terribly.

Dramatic- it’s very up and down with Sybill. I think being dramatic is good and bad, because every small show of kindness is an absolute joy but also every little negative moment or action is the worst betrayal imaginable. Nothing is done in halves by Sybill.

Weird- I mean self explanatory. She talks to plants, she’s constantly blabbering on about the energies of nature and the universe. She relies too heavily on her inner eye to guide her rather than just watching and responding. It’s a weirdness she’s comfortable with but that doesn’t mean everyone else is so ok with it, sometimes she makes people uncomfortable with her frank statements and odd habits.

-A FEW HEADCANONS

Sybill can play guitar. Yeah, she loves music, I think she plays guitar really very well and finds it quite relaxing (can’t think about anything else if you’re trying to master difficult songs y’know) but it isn’t a talent she often shares.

She writes poetry too, doesn’t call it that, just calls it writing. Often times her visions and prophecies can be a lot to digest and so writing about it all can help to sort her crazy imaginings from what might actually be possible.

Not adverse to substance abuse. She lives alone, and sometimes being part of Aversio leaves her incredibly amped up and angry, so it can be difficult to sleep. A few glasses of whiskey or a couple of joints sort that problem out, though.

Can get aggressive with fellow Aversio members. See she knows they can handle it and all the negative energy has to go somewhere (where else would she take it out? Nature? Absolutely not.)

She meditates because it helps focus her inner eye.

-A FEW POTENTIAL PLOT POINTS

This aggression with Aversio members might be an interesting one- like, does she think some of them are really just death eaters afraid to admit that? Are some of them scared of her? Do they think she’s too pushy with the people she’s supposedly aligned with? Yeah, lots interesting to say there.

Of course as an Aversio member there’s always the chance that the order or DE might find out that she’s part of such a group and try to sway her one such way (the DE would have no chance, and i don’t really see the order being much luckier, though she may be willing to form some kind of cooperation with them.)

There’s always the chance of her abandoning everything to just live in the forest.

More prophecies or visions! Are they always accurate? Who knows?!?!?! No one really.

IN CHARACTER QUESTIONNAIRE

The following section should be looked at like a survey for your character. Answer them in character and feel free to use gifs. Or, if you’d rather, answer them in third person or OOC without gifs. Answers do not have to be extremely lengthy.

♔ If you were able to invent one spell, potion, or charm, what would it do, what would you use it for or how would you use it? Feel free to name it:

I think I’d like to invent a potion that would make me immune to all poisons. To be honest, that’s one of the few things that forces me to buy actual food from shops and stops me from living purely off the foods nature provides. I’m quite worried about being poisoned by something not meant for me you see, so if I had a potion that meant no such poisons affected me I would live only off the bounty provided by nature.

♔ You have to venture deep into the Forbidden Forest one night. Pick one other character and one object (muggle or magical), besides your wand, that you’d want with you:

I think Xenophilius Lovegood would make for very good company. He’s easy on the eye and we’re both the types who see more in the world than most people do. I don’t suppose i’d pick anyone for their ability to keep me safe- I’m quite capable of that, thank you. Rather I think I’d pick Xenophilius because we would not run out of things to talk about. Ad far as objects go, maybe a sword? They fascinate me to be perfectly honest- so violent, so pretty- and I think it would be most useful should magic fail me.

♔ What kinds of decisions are the most difficult for you to make?

Who to send on missions or counter attacks. It’s never very easy to decide if you need stealth and logic or aggression and strength, you know? And always I am so fearful that by sending the wrong type we will do more harm than good.

♔ What is one thing you would never want said about you?

That I am a liar. That’s easy, people can say much about me as long as they always believe I am true.

WRITING SAMPLE

Sybill could not sleep. This was not a rare occurrence. More often than not she’d use alcohol or drugs to knock herself out for the night, acutely aware of all the work that there was to be done the next day and so too focused on being alert for that to be concerned with her own body. Tonight, however, she chose the forest. And drugs. There was a lovely little wood right by her house (would Sybill move anywhere without nature close by? Of course not.) And so she meandered through the trees until a small clearing came about, settling herself with a joint and her notebook for a sleepless night.

See, tomorrows attack did not directly involve her. It was more an urban stealth mission, not really her style, and so she saw no harm in turning up to the meeting a little tired and out of it. Hey, she was usually ‘out of it’ as far as the others thought anyway, and so what was the harm really. So for this plan she had taken more a strategic role, using her gift to her advantage to help plan the timing, who she be where and when they should be there. It was something of an arduous task to be honest, left her a little drained to look so closely at individuals, but Sybill would never complain about it. Her inner eye was a gift very few possessed and she intended to use it to it’s full potential.

Besides being out here among nature’s glory with her writing and a joint would be sufficient to restore the balance of her energy. She took a drag and sighed into the quiet night, shifting to lay on her back and feel the full flow of the earth against her body. Her fingertips tingled and her toes curled. God, you know what would really help her sleep? Sex. But so few were as interested in no strings in the same way she was. Still willing to form a connection and truly bon with each other, just not so insistent that such a bond be permanent. It was okay to need someone only for a night or two. The summer she’d bounced around muggle music festivals had spoiled her, obviously. Maybe most wizards were so interested in commitment because it carried on the family name.

Not that she could blame them for such. Cassandra Trelawney had claimed the gift skipped three generations after all and by golly the family had seen to it that her point be proved. The idea made her giggle, bright energy pushing out against a dark sky.

Whatever the case, she was antsy and restless and worried about tomorrows plans. Worried about tomorrows’ people. If things went wrong those few were the ones who would pay most dearly. She closed her eyes, trying to feel the influence of the universe move through her and search for the answers she desired. Would tomorrow be okay? Had they chosen well? The universe, as it so often was in what it considered small affairs, had little more to offer than a small reassurance that Sybill wasn’t driving towards utter disaster.

#Accepted App #illness and timezones worked against us but we're thrilled to have you!

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halalhyungwon · 7 years

Note

1-100 odds

Jaz you’re a real one

1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk?

It depends on the cereal, tbh. Some cereals I prefer a lot of milk and others I put less

3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books?

I’ve used my phone, random sheets of paper, pens/pencils, white out tape…

5: are you self-conscious of your smile?

A lil bit

7: do you name your plants?

I don’t have any plants :( If i did, I probably would

9: do you like singing/humming to yourself?

Yes, I do it constantly

11: what’s an inner joke you have with your friends?

Inner joke? Like, inside joke?… I have a lot. And yet, I can’t think of one to share lmao

13: what’s something that made you smile today?

I was on the phone with my bestie for like 5hrs and I hadn’t called them in a while so that made me happy (:

15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is!

“A total of 32 monkeys have flown in space.”

17: what color do you really want to dye your hair?

This shade of purple that Minseok had because it is sooo pretty. I’ve wanted to dye my hair that color for the longest time

19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it?

I do have a journal and I used to write in it regularly but kinda stopped once I got into sophomore year of college. It was kinda my brain dump and also where I just spilled all my emotions that I never talked to anyone about

21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that’s been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces.

Favorite?? Hmmm there’s the bag my cousin bought me for my high school prom. It’s cute and small and white and going over your shoulder. I don’t use it much but I’m still happy to have it.

23: what’s your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations?

watch exo and seventeen make fools of themselves lmao

25: what’s the weirdest place you’ve ever broken into?

I don’t recall breaking into anywhere…but I remember one summer my brother and I went for a walk to a school in my cousin’s neighborhood and an alarm went off and scared tf out of us

27: what’s your favorite bubblegum flavor?

wintermint (?) i think it’s called

29: what’s something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing?

One of my friends has this pack of cards that says “I LOVE YOU BECAUSE” and then it has a bunch of bullet points for different reasons you could love someone. She gave me one sophomore year and another one just recently and honestly it’s so sweet

31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks.

Socks and I…we acknowledge each other’s existence and hang out when we need to. I only where socks with my sneakers and boots, and when it’s really cold. I cannot where socks all day. Like it’s impossible. When I wear socks I just feel hyper aware of the fact that there is cloth on my feet and it makes me uncomfortable. I can’t go to sleep with socks on, unless I’m extremely tired and just fell asleep. Even then, I’ll wake up with my socks kicked off in the morning.

32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends.

Most recently! My friend and I were trying to observe the meteor shower last weekend. And like the thing is for the first hour or so we didn’t see any and kept trying to find the best place to observe them. Then, I finally saw one, but it was right when my friend was looking down so she didn’t get to see it! And then, another hour or so passes and it just seems like we’re never gonna see another one, so we decide to head back to our dorms. BUt, on the way back we find a spot that would be just perfect to see them, so we just loitered there for almost another hour, jammin to music and just waiting to see some shooting stars! And then the next one comes but it happens right as I’m looking at my friend to talk to her, but she’s looking up so she gets to see it. After that some time passes and it’s already 3:30 a.m. and I’m tired and lowkey gotta pee, so we start making our way back to the dorms again. And then we find another spot that would be good viewing, so we chill there for a while because, though we’ve both seen a shooting star, we haven’t see one together. So we’re standing there, chillin, being goofs and listening to trap remixes of the Wii theme, when we both look up and go “OH!!!” and freak out bc we finally saw another shooting star and it was just great.

(I realized I answered this even tho it’s not odd but i’m just gonna keep it bc i love it too much)

33: what’s your fave pastry?

do cinnamon rolls count as pastries?…i could really go for one…

35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often?

Yes I do!! But I don’t have many :(( Part of me wants to buy a big set but like I already have a bunch of pens and notebooks (but they arent all aesthetic and pretty and stuff) and I also think i’d stop using them after a week or so

37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean?

I like having a neat room (I cleaned my room today I’m so happy, it looks so spacious)

39: what color do you wear the most?

Black, probably

41: what’s the last book you remember really, really loving?

I don’t read often but I think the last book I really enjoyed … Howl’s Moving Castle

43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with?

@batmanlemonade hey ;) [see #32]

45: do you trust your instincts a lot?

No? maybe? idk

47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe?

pickles…

49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought?

I wishhh I could just buy all the cd’s i’ve ever wanted. If I had more money I probably would have a nice collection. The last CD i’ve bought was back in high school and I think it was OneRepublic’s Native album

51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them?

My little brother… whenever i hear transformer, touch it, monster or kkb I think about him bc those are his favorite exo songs loll

53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them?

I don’t think I’ve watched any of these but beetlejuice, and I love beetlejuice

55: what’s the most dramatic thing you’ve ever done to prove a point?

I scrolled through my kyungsoo tag for a good hour or so to prove to my friend how much i love him sfdjkl; that’s not very dramatic but it’s the first thing I thought of. She really didn’t question that I loved him, I just love any excuse to look through my tags

57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics?

bohemian rhapsody is a classic sfkl; um it always reminds me of my childhood bc my brothers and i used to watch these animated videos and one of them was of bohemian rhapsody but with megaman characters lmao

59: what’s your favorite myth?

UHmmm I really don’t know lol sorry

61: what’s the stupidest gift you’ve ever given? the stupidest one you’ve ever received?

In sophomore year I wanted to buy my roommate her favorite flavor of ice cream but I didn’t have money so I drew ice cream on a post-it note for her I can’t think of a stupid gift I’ve received…

63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be?

lol no, i just let ‘em be. they’re chillin

65: is there anyone you haven’t seen in a long time who you’d love to hang out with?

my cousin who’s in med school, I haven’t seen her in too long :c

67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel?

I kinda like those days. If I’m in a good mood, gray skies, cool breezes and light rain make me feel better. Otherwise, it’s just meh.

69: what are your favorite board games?

There’s this Korean board game that I can’t remember the name of for the life of me, and tbh since I haven’t played it in a while I don’t remember the exact rules, but it’s kinda of like Sorry! I’ve only played it twice but it was really fun both times

71: what’s your favorite kind of tea?

Chai

73: what are some of your worst habits?

putting myself down and procrastinating

75: tell us about your pets!

I don’t have any :-( I’ve been really wanting a cat lately

77: pink or yellow lemonade?

Pink~

79: what’s one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you?

Hmmm when I was in high school I reeeally loved Michael Buble (I still do, have you heard that man’s voice?) so for Valentine’s day, my friend got me this box and taped his face on the top lmaoo with a reference to one of his song lyrics. The box was filled with flowers and chocolate and gum (but at the time I had braces so i couldn’t even chew the gum lolll)

81: describe one of your friend’s eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of.

I really wish I could but I’m not creative and this headache I have isn’t helping safhjlk sorry

83: what’s some of your favorite album art?

I really like the cover for 1R’s Native album, and also p!atd’s too weird to live too rare to die

85: do you read comics? what are your faves?

Not really, but I’d like to

87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives?

Howl’s Moving Castle, Room No 7 starring Do Kyungsoo, coming out November 15 and..I can’t really think of another one

89: are you close to your parents?

Kinda sorta

91: where do you plan on traveling this year?

i have no plans to travel :(

93: what’s the hairstyle you wear the most?

My hair in it’s natural state lol covered by my hijab

95: what are your plans for this weekend?

Chillin! I was supposed to lock myself up in my room and finally watch the exo and seventeen concerts I have downloaded but i haven’t gotten around to watching them yet. But I have been chillin in my room so it’s been alright

97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house?

infp, scorpio, and i have no idea

99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them.

UHhhmmm Call Me Baby and Heaven by EXO; Healing and Don’t Listen in Secret by Seventeen; Hug Me by Jung Joon Il

#this took a whiiiiiiiiiile lmao #thanks #<333 #ask:replied

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livelikebrent · 6 years

Text

Stop 5: Syracuse, NY

“She just has such a natural beauty. She’s one of the prettiest girls I know.” Brent adored Amanda and said this about her on multiple occasions. Brent adored Drew too. They were some of his best friends from back home in Wilkes-Barre. I adore them too.

Originally, Stop 5 was supposed to be Acadia National Park in Maine...but I simply did not carve out enough time for the trip (oops!). So, with that trip being postponed until the spring the obvious second choice was Syracuse to visit 8 month pregnant parents to be, Amanda and Drew! The last time Brent and I stopped through to visit Syracuse (rather briefly) was after we had gone camping in the Adirondacks in July of 2015. I remember we parked the Jeep at Forked Lake Campground and hiked maybe about a half mile to our spot which was right next to the lake and was picture perfect (until it rained later that evening). The site came with a picnic table and benches and whoever had the site before us, placed several tree stumps around the “fire pit”. So we set up the tent, hammock and walked around the area a bit.

I started dinner while Brent went to get more firewood from the car. Then hopped in his hammock with a Bells Two Hearted Ale. Brent came back with firewood and flowers he picked along the way for me. After we ate we enjoyed the fire and beers before it started to downpour. We didn’t mind though as we planned on waking up with the sun the next morning to go on quite the hike.

Pictured above is us a smidge tired and sweaty after an upwards hike for 3 hours and 4,626 ft. at the top of Giant Mountain in New York. I like hiking but I like to work towards something. That something could be a killer view, waterfalls or anything to keep me motivated. This was quite the view and I remember that the camera couldn’t truly capture the depths of the mountains and how beautiful the view actually was. I also remember Brent struggling a bit during the hike...at one point (I think we were about a third of the way to the top) I looked at him and told him we didn’t have to complete the hike and could just turn around. I could barely even finish that sentence before he looked at me and said, “I didn’t just beat cancer.” When he said the word “just” he drew out the “uhhh” in an annoyed voice. He said that if he could beat cancer and he could get to the top of the mountain. Did any of you just chuckle while hearing him say this in your head? I did. He was a determined and smarty-pants at times. That’s what I liked about him. Not only did he have motivation but determination.

Brendan and I pulled up to a cute little house with a Blazer in the driveway marked with a “LiveLikeBrent” sticker on the back windshield. Amanda, belly and all, came out from the garage led by Bear, their puppy. Bear is a gorgeous mix of German Sheppard and who knows what else and has the softest coat I’ve ever felt. Drew and Amanda gave us the tour of their home and property. During said tour, Drew said he was sold on the house just by the backyard. Their home sits on a decent sized lot with a backyard that backs up to the woods. There’s a slight up slope towards the back of their property where they have Adirondack chairs in front of a fire pit. I originally thought it was a pizza oven due to the fact Drew isn’t a stranger in the kitchen. Turns out that’s what he eventually wants to do with it. So obviously I’ll be back but only when that’s completed.

After we got settled we hopped in the car and went to Emipre Brewing Co. for a late lunch and some beers. As we pulled up I didn’t realize how massive of a facility Empire was...I suppose the name is fitting. On the other hand, Drew couldn’t get over how packed it was. I mean, it was a Saturday afternoon. In October. In Syracuse. With perfect weather.

“Empire Farm Brewery, est.2016, is the largest Farm Brewery on the East Coast. Over 22 acres were developed for educational and beer production purposes. Boasting a new 60 bbl automated brewhouse, the Empire Farm Brewery is producing kegs and bottles for regional, national and international distribution. Bottled lineup includes 3 time consecutive Great American Beer Fest gold medal winner; Skinny Atlas Light, White Aphro, Slo Mo’ IPA, East Coast Amber Ale, and World Beer Cup gold medal winner; Black Magic Stout. Located in Cazenovia, NY, the property also grows hops, lavender, vegetables, herbs, and fruits for use in the brewing process and to support the needs of Empire’s downtown brewpub.

The agricultural component was designed in conjunction with Professor Matthew Potteiger and the graduate student body from the Department of Landscape Architecture, State University of New York, College of Environmental Science and Forestry. The Empire Farm Brewery was the class project for ESF’s spring 2012 semester.”

Reading that makes the place sound somewhat dreamy, right? It kinda was. The inside was nice, still smelled somewhat new. The place was jammin’ and as we were ordering our beers and a lemonade for the mama to be, a table opened up. What was neat about the place was that they had long communal picnic tables and “round” tables made out of tree trunks which is where we sat. There is a patio out back with tables, a bar and several corn hole sets. I kept looking around not being able to get over the size of the place. We ordered some food and caught up with one another. Drew knew Brent from back in the day in grade school and had been friends ever since. Amanda met Brent through mutual friends later in life in high school. Brent mentioned to me the first time Amanda told him she liked Drew. It was at a concert of sorts (most likely moe. or something along those lines) where she said it and Brent’s reply was something similar to “Yeah, me too.” ... but she corrected him on what she actually meant. They’re a super sweet couple. The first time I met them was New Year’s Eve 2014. They were staying the weekend at Brent’s apartment in East Falls. I remember Drew cooking dinner for all of us at Danny and Dana’s place. He made quite the meal with nice steaks. The following day I remember learning that apparently eating pork on New Year’s Day is a Polish tradition. I think we even had some venison if my memory serves me correctly. At that point in time, I just knew Drew as the friend that could cook and Amanda as “the most naturally beautiful girls” Brent knew...and his best friends of course.

We ate, drank and tossed around baby name ideas. After Empire we decided to do “fall things” (with the rest of the state of New York) since the weather was so beautiful. We drove to a place called Tim’s Pumpkin Patch. Why did we drive close to a half hour and pass maybe half a dozen orchards and pumpkin stands just to go to Tim’s? Well, first of all it has a 4.4 star rating on Google...so there’s that. But in addition to pumpkin picking they have a brewery, bakery, animals and well, Amanda insisted. When we arrived, I bought everyone some farm feed along with beers and ciders before going to visit the animals. After we cooed over the baby goats, pigs and cows we stopped for some fresh apple fritters before heading into the corn maze. The maze was so difficult we ended up coming out where we began and probably didn’t even touch half of the maze. If the sun wasn’t setting we probably would’ve given it another shot. But at that point we wanted to pick our pumpkins, snag a quick photo of the parents to be and hit the road.

When we got back to Drew and Amanda’s home we were greeted by Bear who quite honestly Brendan and I could not get enough of the entire visit. By the way, he is SUCH a good boy.

We hung out for a while. Amanda and Drew then ended up taking us to a place called Seneca Street Brew Pub where I had a Cider Creek Smoked Up Cider. I thought it ruled and was very much alone on this. Give me anything and everything smoked and I’ll consume it...meat, cheese, beer and ciders. This brew pub was in the basement of a renovated church with a bottle shop on top. It truly didn’t feel like a church by any means but was still a cool spot. The bottle shop had dozens and dozens of locally brewed beers, ciders and some wines. I did fail to take a photo of this place. (I actually forgot to take a lot of photos over the weekend!) After we had a drink we walked down the street in downtown Manlius to IronWood Pizza for some dinner. It had a cool vibe inside and an extensive craft beer list. It had an alternative atmosphere with some cool graffiti on the wall in the main dining room and had somewhat industrial touches around the place.

After we ate we went back and the boys built a fire. There was a meteor shower the night before so we hung out in hopes to catch a meteor or two. Drew said he had been listening to some of Brent’s playlists and suggested that we throw one on. So we did. We played some of Brent’s music from Spotify and enjoyed the night. You can view and play Brent’s public playlists on Spotify right here. Note: I’m not sure if they will disappear once his subscription is not renewed. So please download or screenshot the playlists for future reference if you wish!

Sunday morning was a treat. Amanda and Drew have their Sunday ritual which is checking out the Central New York Regional Market. Brendan had already had his eye on visiting this place. The market has been there for YEARS and has Sunday flea markets, Saturday farmers markets and even serves as a live music venue occasionally. The market has several “sheds” which are extremely long structures with garage doors along the sides where vendor after vendor set up for the day. You can find pretty much anything there. Some people bring their junk, some have brand new items with price tag stickers still on them and then people who have some neat odds and ends. I walked out of there with three silver candle stick holders that just need some polish that I bought for a whopping $2. Amanda and Drew found a metal tub type bucket, kitchen tools and some Simpsons books...yes, as in the TV show. According to Drew the place was “empty” and gets packed in the summers. But I actually thought there were a decent amount of vendors there...but I would have no problem making the trip back up in the summertime. I LOVE flea markets, antique shops, thrift stores, indoor markets, outdoor markets, whatever sort of place that has potential for cool finds.

Speaking of cool finds, we “found” some barbecue too. It was just about lunchtime and before Brendan and I even got to Syracuse that weekend, we decided we would go to Dinosaur Bar-B-Que. I actually had no idea this place originated in Syracuse but had been to a location in Brooklyn several years back. We made it right before the Sunday afternoon rush and got a table in a booth. Amanda had mentioned a couple of times that they had solid bloody marys. She ordered a virgin and I told the waitress I’d take Amanda’s vodka. It was a really good bloody mary. It was spicy and whatever dry rub of their’s they rim the glass with was spot on. We started with their fried green tomatoes to share and then ribs, pulled pork, corn bread, mac and cheese were ordered...but I don’t even think that was half of what was order for the table.

This photo above it definitely one of my new favorites. I’m full again just looking at this picture. After I ate my sandwich I could hardly touch the rest of my sides. Or even think about them. Everything tasted so flippin’ good but I felt as though I was busting at the seems. I remember telling everyone I needed to lay down to digest and slumped over in the booth. I have no idea how the boys pack it away.

Just like every trip I take, I find at least one worthy spot for a #LiveLikeBrent sticker. I think that most people would agree that Dinosaur was more than worthy. I spoke to the bartender and gave her the revised version as to why I was there and why I wanted this sticker in their establishment. She gave her condolences but was super touched to hear what I was doing to honor Brent. So if you ever find yourself at the bar of Dinosaur Barbeque in Syracuse a sticker for Brent is there just to the right of the tap system on the back ledge of the bar.

We made our way back to the house to try and digest for a bit.The boys relaxed in the basement (which is massive by the way) and watched some of the Sunday football games. Amanda, Bear and I got in the car and went to Green Lakes State Park for a walk. It was a pretty drive and as you enter the park you also pass through what looked like a nice golf course. We parked the car and started to walk. Turns out the lakes are actually green. The two glacial lakes in the park lie at the base of a gorge. I learned that they are rare meromictic lakes meaning their layers within the water never physically mix. We walked a bit over a mile which made me feel better about the amount of food I had recently inhaled. As we walked we talked about losing Brent, when Amanda lost her father and how the boys have been back in Philadelphia. Ps. Philly Friends - This is the part where I tell you she misses you all and Drew wants me to tell everyone Syracuse isn’t that far...so you all need to visit them.

When we got back, the boys were snoozing in front of the television. Then Brendan showed up in the kitchen and made some coffees. Drew and Amanda’s home is decorated with flea market finds, family heirlooms and pieces they have found along the way. It’s got this farm house vibe but nothing that seems like you can just go and pick-up from the home decor section at Target. (P.S. - There is NOTHING wrong with Target, by the way. I basically live there myself.) But I started asking about an antique cabbage slicer Amanda had hanging above the kitchen sink. I didn’t know what it actually was until she told me but see them all of the time now when out at antique shops. It turns out it belonged to her grandfather back in the day. They also have a couple of letter trays on the walls that hold little knick knacks. I think at their previous apartment they held stones as well. As I was asking about items around the house, Amanda pulled out a stoneware crock which held kitchen tools...and some actual tools. I didn’t realize it until Brendan started asking about the crocks but there are several around their home. Some for decor and others serving a purpose. They were really cool and completely Amanda’s style. Amanda also collects retro kitchen tools with the green handles. She actually just bought the one dead center in the photo on the counter at the market earlier that day. I think we decided it was a pastry/cookie cutter that you roll along dough. It had the shapes of suits in a deck of cards: heart, diamond, club, and spade. It was kinda neat. Amanda pulled out almost every tool and told us about them. She likes the way they look mainly but said when she’s out at the market a lot of people will try to paint the handles green to make them look like antiques and she tried to avoid the replicas.

We finished up our coffee and played with Bear one more time before packing up. Drew woke up from his slumber but claimed he was awake the entire time. We said our goodbyes, packed up the car and made our way back south.This is the part where I remind everyone that even though Amanda and Drew have a little one due literally any day now...they still welcome visitors. This is also the part where I tell you Brent told me Amanda and Drew are having a boy (even though they don’t know the gender of the baby). Maybe Brent was having a “chemo brain” moment when he told me confidently that it’s a boy or maybe he just knew or maybe it’ll just be a coincidence. Or maybe...they’ll just have a little baby girl. Either way, I’m excited to see the little bundle of joy the next time I go to visit them upstate. Thank you so much for having us for the weekend, Drew and Amanda. We love you, Bear and the little one on the way!

#LiveLikeBrent #Syracuse #New York #Adirondack Mountains #Adirondacks #Hiking #Camping #Seneca Street Brew Pub #IronWood Pizza #Manlius #CNY Regional Market #Dinosaur Barbque #Dino BBQ

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