#I also got a suggestion once that hes another species (i cannot remember the name) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

btssmutficslovingfan01 · 3 years

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How to Dream About Your Crush

Summary: You’re gonna go into your crush’s dream and that’s not all, you’re going to make him fall madly in love with you, only in seven days.

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Pairing: Jungkook x Banshee! Reader

Words: 9k+

Warnings: No correlation to the wikihow article, wattpad got nothing on me, references to HYYH era and the ‘Save Me’ webtoon, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, Death, Pretty PG rated overall except for some suggestive parts

💌 A/N: This is the longest Jungkook ff I have ever written. Also, happy valentine’s day!

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“Who are you?” He asked you as you turned around, your long red dress flowing freely behind you as he ran towards you. “Your future.” You gave him a half smile and everything faded to white, that’s how the dream ended. You woke up with a smile on your face, feeling quite well rested. You weren’t, however, ready to face Jungkook after that little stunt you pulled. Yoongi was glaring at you as you trudged to the kitchen.

“There’s a reason why we don’t use the dream dust on humans, you know?”

“I know, I know. But he’s the cutest boy I’ve ever seen in my entire life, and you know I’m the equivalent of a newborn even at 22.” Your superior lets out a sigh.

“Yes, I suppose I understand why you did it. I just don’t like it, is all. Our kind isn’t known to humans. Even though we blend in well, we cannot mix. Some are just too smart for us to sneak past.” Yoongi finishes whipping up the last batch of his potions for the next week and a half.

“I know you’re salty because once they thought you were a ghost when you went out to go buy a t.v. It doesn’t help that they made a horror movie about it either.” You laugh at the memory, your eyes twinkling with mischief as your older brother glares daggers at you, again.

“We’re the laughing stalk of the 4th dimension, Y/N, how would you feel if a human mistook you for a demon and decided to give you a silly name like, “the crying woman?” or “the girl from the ring?” You just narrowed your eyes at him.

“Those things already exist. Besides, I think it was a good thing that you got caught. Humans fear us so they’ll stay away. Even if they’re wrong about the ghost part, we still have a cool name.” Yoongi buckles his satchel before putting his brown bag over his shoulder and going out for the day.

“For the record, Banshees are cool. Banhees are not.” You rolled your eyes at him as he left, finally locking the door behind him. You loved spending time alone, as you have been for the last quarter of a century. It felt like an eternity, all that time cooped up in your house that you were assigned to stay in with your superior, Yoongi. Over a period of time, he became like a brother to you, that’s why it’s easier to refer to him as your brother, even though you aren’t biologically related to one another.

Your world operates similar to the human world, the only difference is that ghouls don’t get into fights over silly things and there’s no concept of racism because the entire population consists of different types of people and it's not like you deal with the same species. Instead you consider yourselves a single population of just otherlanders. There are others like you, but their existence doesn’t affect yours in any shape or form.

You worked for the factory that you were born at, the same factory that sent you and Yoongi to the human dimension. This way, you could do good deeds without bothering anyone. You were born into a complicated situation. Your entire family was under arrest when you were still in utero, and you were born in a factory jail cell. You were sent to an orphanage as an infant and when you were around 18 years of age, you were sent to work at the factory. That is also where you met your 110 year old superior.

Others didn’t protest, even though it was odd for such a young Banshee to be traveling to the human world and completing tasks meant for elders. Yoongi luckily looked after you, and you became used to the workings of the human world. Your job was easy enough: Look after the souls who you have been assigned to and help them through their dreams.

It was an easy enough task, except for the fact that you couldn’t directly intervene in their lives. You had to go into their dreams and Jungkook Jeon just happened to be one of the lucky humans you had the pleasure of helping, at least that’s what you like to believe. Yoongi got assigned to him instead, but once you got a peek of that bunny-toothed smile, you just couldn’t resist! That boy was just too cute.

To Yoongi’s dismay, you started appearing in his dreams, whether they were dreams or nightmares. You also couldn’t risk him seeing your body, because the lifeless skin with a light blue tint would be a dead giveaway that you weren’t human.

All you needed was a picture of him and some dream dust, the unfortunate part was that Yoongi was the only one who could make it, as he knew the recipe by heart and refused to give it to you until you learned how to be a responsible Banshee and do your job. For your family, who you barely knew.

Later that night, you find yourself in the middle of a road. All you can see is darkness, except for the road with clear yellow lines separating the two lanes. A strange feeling forms in the pit of your belly as you look past your field of vision and you see the road cut off. When you turn around, you see Jungkook, who looks shocked to see you in the middle of his nightmare.

He shuts his eyes and covers himself with his arms, as if he would be shielded from whatever danger just because he can’t see it. Before you can ask him what he was doing, a blinding flash of light stops you, and you feel the impact of the car as glass shards go flying everywhere. It was in slow motion, but you could see Jungkook’s horrified face as you stare back at him with lifeless eyes. He was so startled that he woke up before you did, leaving you alone on the dark road again, only shards of glass and a smashed car to keep you company.

It seems Jungkook’s trauma runs deeper than his memory. When you were flying through the air in slow motion, your vision came back into focus. The blinding light hadn’t reached your eyes yet, so it gave you time to peer into the window. You didn’t see a driver, no face, no body, no hands. It was like the car was driving itself.

You also noticed that the car was driving in the middle of the road, not on either side so it didn’t give Jungkook an opportunity to move out of the way. You getting into an accident was not your fault either, you weren’t meant to be there in the first place. Now that you know, you can avoid this in the future by pulling Jungkook aside or pushing him out of the way. Even though it was a dream, you still felt pain from the incident. This was a downside to being a creature of the night, you remember dreams vividly and never forget pain. That’s why there were a small number of Banshees in your world, because people remembered the pain of giving birth, they stopped reproducing.

It was about 9 in the morning when you awakened from your slumber, after recounting the events in the dream world by yourself after Jungkook woke up, you stayed there alone. Sometimes, a girl just needs to have that peace and quiet.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Yoongi!” You gasp, sitting up on the bed, clutching your blanket with one hand and your dream journal in the other.

“I thought I told you to stop going after that Jungkook boy. He’s my assignment, after all.” You pout as Yoongi shuts you down again.

“Yoongi, how many times do I have to tell you? I can’t let him go. He’s special.” Yoongi rolls his eyes.

“How many times have I heard this before? One, two, three? They were all different names, different partners too. Ah, how it feels to be a teenager.”

“I’m not a teenager. Not in our dimension, anyways.” Yoongi doesn’t know whether he should laugh or cry at your naive remark. All he can do now is take care of you and get you home in one piece.

“I know that.” He clicks his tongue but you still look more perplexed than ever.

“We’re partners, but this assignment has to be done alone. If you screw this up for me, I can get fired.”

“I understand, sir yes sir,” You salute him before flipping through the pages of your dream diary. “I won’t mess this up. In fact, I think I even found the root of his trauma.” Yoongi shakes his head at your thoughtless comment.

“There is no such thing as a “root” of trauma. Normally, people are mentally scarred during their childhood and they grow up to have problems during their adult life. In Jungkook’s case, he is not a full adult yet, we’re just lucky we got here in time before it started taking over his life.”

“Yoongi, when can I have my first assignment? They said we were partners and sent us here so we can complete missions together but it feels like you just want me to stay out of it altogether.” Yoongi furrows his brows. He puts his fingers to his forehead, pressing down and rubbing his temples for relief. He looks tired and grumpy, like an old man.

“I can’t teach you if you won’t listen to me. When I told you to let me handle this alone, I meant that I wanted to be the one to open the gates to the dream world and let you through so you could observe from a distance.”

“Oh yeah? And how’s that coming for ya?”

“So far? Not so great.” He sighs, plopping onto the green couch with a thwack.

“Tell me what’s the matter.”

“You. You keep messing everything up. I bet you can’t even do your job right even if I assigned you the task.” Your eyes widen at his playful comment, which was a complete 180 from his authoritarian behavior from before.

“I bet I can do that, and make him fall madly in love with me while doing it.” The corners of his lips twitch upwards and into a strange mix between a grimace and a smirk. It takes you a moment to realize that he was trying to smile, something that Yoongi doesn’t do very often.

“In a week?” Yoongi adds. “If you fail, you have to buy me a Maxi size blanket from Max-Mart.” You reach out to shake his hand but withdraw quickly, realizing that you forgot to decide his punishment.

“And if I win, you have to give me the recipe to Dream Dust.” He scoffs. “Deal.” You shake on it.

Day 1

You wipe your sweaty palms on your pajamas as you prepare for another night in Jungkook’s Dream World. The first thing you needed to do was confront him. Unlike Yoongi, you believed in doing things head-on. Much to your company’s dismay, there were no specific rules stating that you can’t do so. You can’t interfere in the waking world, that’s all.

“It’s you.” Jungkook is in the middle of a floating pile of laundry, which piles higher than any mountain you’ve seen before.

“How’d you get up there?” You ask, trying to change that topic since dream logic allowed you to skip over the meaningless greetings and get to the point. Jungkook didn’t notice, giving you what he thought was a sensible answer but instead the letters came out jumbled and he said something about Alpaca parkas.

“That’s a lovely scent. What kind of detergent do you use?” Jungkook shrugs as you help him out of the pile, not minding that you flew up to do so. “Are you an angel?” He asks finally, when you set him down after flying him back down to safety.

“If that’ll help you sleep better at night, then yeah, I guess so.”

“I’ve seen you before, you’re the one that ran away from me the other time...but that was a dream. Oh my god, am I dreaming?” Jungkook’s smile makes your heart melt. You never thought you would meet a human that made you feel this way, much less a boy. If he belonged to your world, he would be an infant, same as you. But he is technically older than you, since you were only 22 and he was 24.

“Can you tell me who was driving the car?” You shift topics easily but Jungkook’s dreamscape looks murky. It’s like he’s having a thousand thoughts at once but you can’t hear any of them, as he’s keeping them to himself, even in his own dream. Technically, the dream plane is a place where people can share dreams if their connection is strong enough, but you forced your way into his dreams, with the dream dust. Another strange rule about the dream plane is that if he didn’t truly want you here, you could be cast out of his dream. Of course, that’s never happened to you before since you only watched Yoongi do this from afar and never interfered with it directly.

“No.” Again, the horn of that very same car warns you from behind as Jungkook watches the light with wide doe eyes, waiting for the impact that never comes.

He looks at you with confusion as you make the car swerve past you into a halt, something that Jungkook himself can never do. He always gets hit in the end, and then wakes up in his bed in a cold sweat. It’s not really a pleasant feeling, as his heart would race and he would have to get up to drink water or go to the bathroom to calm down his nerves.

“How did you do that?” His dreamscape changes again, to something more serene. A golden-orange sunset near the beach. You can feel the sand between your toes as the waves crash onto your feet and swipe it away. The change is drastic to the empty road in the darkness that always ends in a car crash. You can tell Jungkook still has no control over it, the car just hits him every time and instead of moving out of the way, he waits for the collision, like he’s supposed to get hit.

“I didn’t do anything. It’s your dream, after all.” You try twisting the situation around, since in the dreamscape, you can say or do anything and it will make sense to the person dreaming at the time.

“But you’re here. I know I’ve never met you in real life...so why do you keep appearing in my dreams?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you caught a glimpse of me somewhere and now your subconscious is presenting me as the answer to your problem.” Why did you say that? Now you’ve really gone and done it.

“How can you possibly be my “cure?” The car was just a coincidence. Let’s just say I was so taken aback that I stopped it from crushing you. What good does having you by my side do for me? Are you supposed to be my miracle?” You decide to play along, just for now. If Jungkook thinks he needs you, and you give him exactly what he wants (because it’s a dream), then in the waking world when you run into him, you can directly help him heal and overcome his fears. It’s a win-win situation! Although, Yoongi won’t be very proud of you for doing the latter.

He doesn’t believe in doing the work himself, he says making the humans come to a realization is much more satisfying than directly trying to fix the problem. He calls it pushing things into place, you call it laziness.

“Again, it’s all up to you. I’m just here for the ride.” You’re vague on purpose, as Jungkook comes close to you, practically bumping noses as his breath fans on your lips like a cool breeze of air. You don’t know why, but your heart races when he steps even closer to you.

His lips are almost touching yours, when he suddenly pulls away.

“I don’t even know you.”

You wake up in a cold sweat. Yoongi is flipping through a book, smirking as he sips some coffee while watching you struggle after your return from Jungkook’s dreamscape. He doesn’t think you’ll be able to get any further than angering Jungkook for prying into his most personal thoughts through his dreams.

You make yourself some coffee before starting the day, peering out the window to watch Jungkook as he exits his apartment in a rush, with a guitar case in hand. You know exactly where he’s going, too.

You decide to make your first encounter with Jungkook a mere coincidence. A chance-meeting. Two people meeting on the street only to meet later somewhere else. You were playing with destiny.

Your physical body has noticeable differences from a human’s body, which means if Jungkook gets too close, he could discover you’re not like him. You opted to wear a simple brown trench coat and some brown boots, but you keep your face covered until you drop a coin in his guitar case.

His eyes widen when he sees you, and you give him the sweetest smile you think a human girl can possibly muster. Quickly, you turn around and disappear around the corner, leaving Jungkook to busk again by his lonesome. He does it everyday, for two hours. After that, he heads down to his workplace which is by a supermarket.

You don’t go to that supermarket to buy groceries, since it was far away, compared to your local supermarket.

“You know, if you don’t think you can do this, you can give your bag of dream dust to me and I can—” “No!” You interrupt Yoongi, with tearful eyes. “I don’t care about your stupid bet. I just want Jungkook to get at least one night of rest. This may be a game for you, but he’s a real person, you know? He is more than an “assignment.” Yoongi, I’m asking you for a bit of humility.” Yoongi sighs before setting his book down on the table, putting a hand on his chin as he speaks to you.

“And so it begins. Your first mission,” You look at him with bewilderment; Had he meant to piss you off from the very beginning? “The same thing happened to me on mine, and my grandfather’s father. The key to a successful mission is realizing that your assigned humans are human.” You were at a loss for words.

Yoongi helped you? This one is definitely going in the book of reports.

“What difference does it make? Jungkook doesn’t want my help. He doesn’t even know me.”

“But you know him,” Yoongi’s eyes glimmer with flecks of gold, his irises naturally brown with a yellow undertone. You always found his eyes captivating, mirroring the very essence of his soul. He’s wise and monotonous, with a microscopic piece of warmth seeping through the cracks. Rarely does he express any kind of emotion at all. Yet this was one of those rare moments in which he displayed emotion. “So help him.”

Day 2

Jungkook’s dreamscape had taken a turn for the worst. This time, you found yourself in the middle of a crime scene, Jungkook watching himself bleed out as his double sinks into the white-tiled floor, fresh scarlet blood pooling around his head. You stood on the far side of the island, not wanting to be found out.

Jungkook walks past the body suddenly, making a beeline for the back door. You watch the scene around you shift once again, and suddenly, you’re in the middle of a party. Is Jungkook reliving memories? Seeing vivid nightmares because those memories haunt him? You know he was involved in a car accident, and that left him unable to dance. He still can’t exert force on his leg to this day, even though it’s been 5 years.

You follow Jungkook’s mop of dark brown hair, taking in his man-bun for a second before walking behind him as quietly as possible. The party itself isn’t loud, the strange dream logic allows Jungkook to drown out any noise. He probably doesn’t realize he’s doing it, but that’s how dreams work, subconsciously. You follow him along a dark corridor, your eyes going wide when you realize this is a make-out corner, and then to your horror, you see him kiss someone. You can’t tell if it’s a man or a woman given the crappy lighting, but you can see that whoever it is, they’re really into the kiss.

Jungkook suddenly pushes them away, running towards the bathroom, and when you go to see what’s the matter, someone from his dreamscape runs past you to go help him. You peer in through the door, only opening it half way to find none other than Yoongi himself assisting a half-dead Jungkook on the ground. His labored breaths resound through the room, as you watch him grip the edges of the toilet seat.

“Jungkook-ah, I’m here now. Let’s get you home.” You’re quick to realize that’s not your Yoongi, although the two of them bear a striking resemblance.

“Hyung, do you love me?” You hear Jungkook croak out, the innocence in his voice suggesting that this was one of his early memories from school.

“Of course I do. Do you think I’d come all the way here if I didn’t?”

“I kissed her. Your girlfriend.” Instead of becoming upset, or dropping Jungkook, he just lets out a chuckle. You feel instantly jealous of Jungkook for getting such an expressive Yoongi. Your Yoongi is broken. Not to mention now, he has black hair. The Yoongi that’s helping Jungkook out of the colorful club restroom has mint-green hair.

“That’s fine. You know I’d even share her with you, if you asked.” You gawk at the boys as they walk past you, Jungkook oblivious to even you at that moment. It seems like he is the closest to Yoongi, even though you know for a fact Yoongi has never even gone out to bars in the human world. He’s a stickler when it comes to rules. This man is most definitely not someone you know.

You’re sure about one thing, though. He’s got to be the key to healing Jungkook. Yet, you have no idea where to even begin. For now, you settle on following Jungkook from a distance and approaching him when the time is right. This time, when the scene fades, you’re in the middle of a graveyard. Oh hell no.

You see none other than Yoongi, at least his picture, resting on the tombstone. You were so taken aback, you woke up out of shock, like an amateur.

“What? Can’t sleep?” He mocks as he flips to the next page of his book.

“I just saw you. Your past life, it was you!” Yoongi is quick to put his book away, standing up and walking towards you to check your temperature.

“Tell me what happened.”

“You had mint green hair. Jungkook was a close friend of yours, he even went to your funeral. I think he was reliving a memory.”

“But that’s not possible! Five years ago I wasn’t even in the human realm! How could this happen?”

“I don’t know. But I saw it on your tombstone. Yoongi Min, 1993-2016.” Yoongi mutters a couple curses in latin under his breath before turning back to you. “There was a human version of me living at the same time as a Banhee version of me?”

“It looks like it. I was going to seek him out but it doesn’t look like I can anymore.”

“Maybe the one upstairs willed it.”

“You mean to say God actually made it like that so you can help me out with the current situation?” He nods.

“Precisely. We have the same first names, different surnames, but we are most definitely identical. Here, I found a picture of him online. Don’t we look like twins?” You hate to admit it, but it looks like Yoongi will have to help you with this one.

“Creepy.”

“Let’s put a halt on that bet. It’s not fair to either of us if I help you out by pretending to be this Yoongi person,” Your lips curve upwards into a smirk. “But this Yoongi has mint-green hair.” Yoongi shakes his head, grabbing your hand as you reach up to mess with his hair.

You make a quick trip to a beauty store to collect some things like bleach, hair dye, and some makeup just for you. Yoongi glared at you since he was the one paying for everything but it’s not like he does any “obscure human jobs” as he would call them. You’re paid in human money, but all of your pay is collected by the facility that’s holding your family. You’d have to work for 50 years to free them, so during that time you have to depend on Yoongi for money. He gets an average of $3000 per month, plus the money that he’s been saving since the 1920’s, and luckily since the Great Depression only effected the “stupid humans who don’t know how to handle their money,” Yoongi only made more money in the end, racking up tenfold of his pay. The value of his money went up, and he was a millionaire now so it didn’t matter.

He just hated spending money, is all.

You spent the rest of the night dying Yoongi’s hair, bleaching it first before waiting so you could add the mint green dye. Yoongi reminded you of how much he hated you every second of the way.

By 8 am, he was dyed and ready. His mint green hair looked resplendent. You licked your lips and sent him out, not realizing that it was already the next day.

Day 3

Yoongi bumped into Jungkook, breaking his own rules with the “coincidence.” You made sure that it was just a run-in though, something that will make Jungkook’s subconscious mind think about his Yoongi again. Yoongi was determined to help you now more than ever, since it seemed there was a human double of him born with the same name, but he was only a few years older than Jungkook, as opposed to being nearly a whole century older than him.

You knew this would mean Jungkook would dream of Yoongi tonight, and your Yoongi could slip unknowingly to find out more. You needed to know, it seemed as if Yoongi was essential to solving the problem behind Jungkook’s nightmares, the same ones that creep in during the day, leaving him restless and stroppy in the morning.

When night fell, you were ready to hide under the nearest tree you could find. It looks like today, Jungkook is thinking about his friend’s death. Some things remained unclear, as Jungkook fell flat on his face and began sobbing, stirring your own emotions as you empathize with him. Never have you ever felt this way about an assignment before, you only observed from a distance. Seeing Jungkook’s tears roll down his cheeks and his eyes turning puffy only made you more encouraged to help him. Yoongi watches you from his hiding place, smiling as you wipe your own tears, and wait for him to make the next move.

Yoongi walks up to him slowly, after what felt like an eternity, he is directly in front of him.

“Stand up, old friend.” Jungkook’s face lights up at his voice, and his cheeks have retained a lovely rosy hue that you’ve never seen before. He’s just so adorable, the way he chats away with your superior, believing him to be his long-dead friend.

“I miss you a lot these days, you know?” Jungkook turns back to him with a sad smile as he observes his features. “Your green hair was truly iconic. Actually, I think you might have been the only person in Korea to pass away with mint-green hair.” He laughs along with Yoongi making sure to play his part and gain the intel you needed to execute the plan.

“Enough about the green hair. I’m here to check up on you. Heaven has really bad reception so I couldn’t connect to Earth.” Jungkook stifles a laugh at his joke, quieting down when he sees that Yoongi isn’t laughing along.

“I’m leaving this place soon, too,”

Your face turns pale at his words. He couldn’t mean that he wanted to...there was no way. “I’m dying, like a flower blooming in reverse.” It sounded beautiful, when he said it. A part of you wanted to see it for yourself, a flower blooming in reverse. In this case, it seemed that Jungkook was the flower. And a flower can’t possibly turn back into a bud. The only thing it can do is shrivel up and die. You certainly didn’t want to see that happening to Jungkook any time soon.

“It’s called wilting. And also, what do you mean?” Yoongi puts a hand on his hip. You can tell he’s growing impatient.

“I’m losing my will to live. What’s the point of life if there’s no one to share it with? Jimin won’t even come visit your grave because he’s still in denial that you’re gone, Jin is living his dream in America in broadway doing shows, and everyone that we knew before is busy. They moved on with their lives, forgot about you, and us, we were the dream team.”

“That’s a part of life, Kook. I’m sorry if you feel that way now but just because I’m gone it doesn’t mean you should just put a halt on your life. We were the dream team, but now it’s just you. You have to put in an effort to move forward and carry those past experiences with you.”

You never knew the weight of a heavy heart before now.

You resisted running forward as well, letting Yoongi handle this as he was always meant to.

“It’s not that easy, you know? I’ve changed. It’s hard for me to even get a decent night’s sleep with all of the nightmares I have.” Yoongi realizes quickly that Jungkook hasn’t recognized that he is dreaming yet. It is common within humans not to understand that, even when it’s so obvious that their subconscious is altering their dreams while they are in the dream.

“Why don’t you try going to sleep now? I’m sure you can sleep well if you let go.” Yoongi gestures for you to come forward when Jungkook takes his advice and he goes to “bed.” You were in the middle of his bedroom, while he “slept” soundly on a bed. A dream within a dream.

“What do we do? We’ve never tried to help someone like this before.” Yoongi shrugs.

“This way, if he gets too excited and wakes up, he will still be dreaming. It’s a simple banshee-dream surfing hack.” You roll your eyes, relaxing for only a minute before Jungkook begins to stir in his bed.

“Now, put your hand on his forehead. You are going to go inside his dream and confront his problems next to him.” You nervously look up at Yoongi, before putting your hand down on his forehead. Even his forehead is hot. Does this man have to be so sexy all the time?

You were back on the empty road. Except this time Yoongi was there, but it wasn’t your Yoongi. This Yoongi was human, bleeding bright crimson blood, and he was as good as dead. You felt a rush of fear for a moment, having to remind yourself that the real Yoongi is watching you from outside, as you were inside a dream within a dream.

“Please, wake up.” Jungkook desperately shakes his friend, crying as he lies limp in his arms.

“He’s gone, Jungkook.”

“Why are you here again?!” He snaps, and all you can do is wonder how to save yourself the trouble of an explanation.

And then he wakes up.

Day 4

“Since you screwed up so bad yesterday, I wanted to ask you if you’ll stay out of trouble and avoid interacting with Jungkook unless you absolutely have to.”

“Yes sir.” You salute your mentor as you drink a glass of milk before curling up in your comfy bed.

Yoongi was going to join you again in the dreamscape, this time making Jungkook show him the answers without asking. He was a master of deception, making sure to lure his assignments into a false sense of security before making them face their biggest nightmare only to make them realize that they were their own enemy all along.

It was surprising how most of the time, things turned out exactly the same way, with there being a 99% chance that the reason why a person isn’t able to move forward in their life, it is due to their own fears of failure. One should never be afraid of the unknown, as the possibilities for success are endless.

All that he had to do was show Jungkook what could happen if he would just let go of his friend’s death.

He is standing in the middle of a dark and desolate dreamscape, as you duck behind a dead tree only to see that flowers bloom at your touch. This could only mean one thing: you were starting to creep into his subconscious, his deeper thoughts as you appeared many times in his dreams before and now he was actively thinking of you.

You felt flattered at first, before you realized that this could potentially ruin the entire plan.

You stay hidden and watch Yoongi as he bends and controls the environment to his will, showing Jungkook a vision of an ideal family. His future if he learned to let go. His picture-perfect (faceless) wife and two kids, his furnace burning bright as winter came early, and a little golden retriever puppy.

“This isn’t right. I should be married to her,” Jungkook mutters to himself, but it’s still loud enough for you to hear. You see Jungkook create a different version of you from his memory, but since it is a dream it isn’t perfect. You know it’s you because she’s wearing the same red dress you wore when you were fooling around in his dreams before the bet even started in the first place. “She’s the only one for me.” You feel something similar to an earthquake, as Jungkook’s dreamscape shakes violently. You come flying out of your hiding place, Yoongi’s hand reaching out to you a smidge too late as you face Jungkook.

“Who are you?” He inquires, once again reaching out to you as you gaze into his deep brown eyes, admiring his handsomeness before being yanked out from the dream by your superior.

You sit up straight in bed, as if you had just walked right out of the dream realm. Your awareness was intact, and Yoongi was sitting beside you, in his prized rocking chair. You knew with whatever you were planning now, you needed to involve Yoongi.

“Yoongi, do you know where Banshees come from?” Yoongi groans as you ask him the same question all the little ones back in your world ask you.

“No. As I told you before, there’s no exact science.”

“Then does that mean everything I am doing is for nothing? I’m helping my supposed “family” by doing this job but I don’t think I really understand who it is I’m helping. As far as I know, my parents didn’t raise me. They could be dead.” Yoongi sighs, putting a hand on your shoulder as you tell him about your worries.

“While some of that may be true, I know that you are the closest thing that I have to a sister right now. Even if you feel doubt about your birth family, stop thinking about them. I’m the loneliest creature on this planet. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a partner and I’m glad they chose you. You keep me company, and the house feels more lively with you. So what do you say? If you won’t do this for your real family, do this for me?” How could you possibly say no to him when he puts it like that?

“You are my real family, dummy. And who said I was quitting? I just don’t know if I can pull this off yet.” You share an embrace before running off to make yourselves some hot coco.

Meanwhile, across the street when Jungkook wakes up in his bed, he notices the couple running around in their apartment, and upon closer inspection, he noticed that you bore very similar resemblance to someone he saw in his dreams. He didn’t get a good look at the guy, but he also looked familiar.

Jungkook tucked the thought away in the back of his mind, planning to investigate it later, after work. He hops out of bed to get the day started, only thinking of his ideal girl and Yoongi. His past was starting to matter less and less to him, so he felt like he could accomplish a lot more today.

Maybe you were starting to make some progress on him.

Day 5

Jungkook’s dream started off a nightmare again. The recurring car crash scene played out before him, but instead of colliding with the glass and flying through the air in slow motion, he stopped it by holding out his hand.

“I knew it, I’m dreaming!” You and Yoongi share a look of fear as humans who are aware that they are dreaming are not to be messed with. If either of you exposed the magical world to a human, the kind of trouble you would get in is far worse than life in jail.

“We have to get out of here.” Whispered Yoongi as you met in the clouds. It was the only place you could hide, since Jungkook had awareness and it was a bad idea to be seen while he was in a state to make sense of things.

“How?”

“We need to wake him up somehow. Maybe we should trick him!”

“Yoongi, what are you thinking of doing?” You ask as he stands up, preparing to jump down from the cloud.

“I’m gonna try and wake him up. With my true form.” You shake your head at that, trying to grab onto his legs as he floats down.

He turns an ugly shade of blue, his pale skin an unnatural shade of white, the same white that corpses turn after spending hours at the morgue. His hair turns black, and grows out just a little too long. His legs become crooked, bending an unnatural way as Jungkook turns around to face him.

“AHHHHHHH!” He wakes up immediately, pulling you and Yoongi out of your dream sequence.

“Good going. Although, I can never figure out how to make my legs do that.” Yoongi shrugs, before hopping out of bed and leaving you confused.

“Wait, you slept next to me last night? I don’t remember that…” He ignored you as he quickly got out his phone and started going through emails he had received from HQ in the human world. Who would’ve thought? The fancy software company uptown was a cover for all of the monsters working in the human world.

“Oh no, they’re asking me for a progress report.”

“So?” You didn’t know why he sounded so stressed all of a sudden.

“By now he shouldn’t be having that car nightmare. What are we gonna do?” He grips your shoulders as you comfort him with patting his hands.

“There, there. Don’t cry. I think we can do this in three days. We have to use Yoongi, though. The one from Jungkook’s memories.”

While you were busy with Yoongi in your apartment, Jungkook was groveling in his own place, remembering the painful events from the past which led him here.

Yoongi tried killing himself, multiple times. But he saved Jungkook when he was about to get hit by a car. It wasn’t just him. His friends were there too. They came running to find them in the corner of an alleyway after Yoongi had been run over and Jungkook was too shocked to speak.

He was closer with Yoongi than any of the others so when he died, a part of himself died as well. Yoongi was depressed after his last girlfriend left him. They were so close but then out of the blue she ghosted him and blocked his number and everything. Jungkook couldn’t do much to help except play piano for the man when he asked. While Yoongi smoked on his ugly green couch, Jungkook would play.

The same song which haunts him to this day.

Day 6

“When will I see you again?” Jungkook asked as he reached out to the apparition of Yoongi.

He disappeared, turning into smoke when Jungkook tried to touch him. “Why am I so lonely?”

“You’re not lonely because he left. You’re lonely because you miss him.” When he turned around, you were standing before him, in your red dress. Just as he remembered seeing you the first time.

“You’re the girl who’s been appearing in my dreams every night.” You looked down at your gown, deciding to own up to the fact that you’d been showing up in his dreams.

“At first, I thought you were just a cute boy with a troubled past. But I see your past is a lot more than just that.” You sit next to him as he sits down in an empty patch of grass, surrounded by a beautiful garden at his feet.

“How did you get in my head? Surely I would remember what my own crush looks like.” You shake your head. At first, making him fall in love with you was your ultimate goal. You didn’t want to continue deceiving him like this, pretending that you were some angel when you’re not.

“I’m not anyone you know. I’m just here to help and leave after I’m done.”

“What do you mean?” With the way he was looking at you right now, you were a sure goner. His long, black curls forming a natural halo around his head as his face...his soft cheeks blush a light pink. Under the sunset and the dreamy atmosphere, Jungkook looks unreal. It didn’t take long for his lips to connect with yours.

When you woke up from the excitement, you knew you were screwed. There’s no way you could come back now.

“Yoongi!” You called out for your partner as he continued fixing hot chocolate for you. “I need to meet him in real life. Every time I get too close, he just wakes up. Dreaming isn’t going to help anymore, I need to take action in the real world.”

“But Y/N, I can’t let you do that. He’s a human and if he even sees you, he’ll know you aren’t an ordinary girl.” You look at your own skin, dreading how you looked at the moment because you were no greek goddess when it came to looks. You just had control over what you looked like in the dream realm so you appeared human.

“I need to try, Yoongi. Maybe I’ll hide my face. My eyes give it all away. Or maybe I could get contacts like you.”

“No contacts. And no going out alone. How many times do I have to tell you? It is against the rules to initiate contact with a subject directly if not in the dream realm. Even then, you have to keep a distance because there’s a rule about that too.”

“Screw you and your rules! I’ll do what I want. This dream dust is mine.”

“Y/N, no!” Yoongi called out to you as you sprinkled the last of the dream dust on you, drifting off to sleep just to arrive at a party.

“Where am I?”

“You’re at our frat partayyy! Could you do me a favor and go make out with our newest recruit over there? It’s part of our initiation to kiss a girl before being sworn in.” You walked over to the direction the guy pointed you in, seeing a frightened Jungkook sitting alone.

“Hey, are you Jungkook?” You pretend like this is the first time you’re seeing him, since he didn’t know he was dreaming and a lot of dialogue is very scripted in these kinds of dreams as well.

“Yeah.”

“Come with me.” You pulled him towards the closet, making it so that when you entered, you would enter a different place.

“Where are we now?”

“Our first date. Cotton candy?” Jungkook didn’t question you, but he had his doubts as you headed to the Ferris Wheel. You were in the middle of a fair, but Jungkook didn’t seem to be enjoying himself at the moment.

“You’re the dream girl!” You whacked his arm, smiling sheepishly like you were having a natural reaction to what he said even though you kissed a couple dreams ago.

“Aw, I didn’t think I was your ideal type. I guess we got lucky, huh?” You kissed his cheek as he stayed completely still, blinking a few times as the world around you started to crumble. He was about to wake up, but you didn’t want to be present when he did. You quickly used your power to lull his dream self to sleep, putting him down under a safe place before going into his dream within his dream.

“Jungkook! What are you doing here?” He was currently sitting with a group of people, around a campfire as you ran towards him in a new outfit so it looked like you randomly stumbled upon this place.

“What a coincidence. I was out here toasting marshmallows and I found you.” You felt a pang of guilt in your heart from lying to him but you couldn’t disclose your identity so quickly! You were keen on healing him.

“Do you wanna get out of here?”

“No way, I’m not ditching my friends.” You waved your hand behind your back, making the people disappear.

“Too bad, because it looks like they already left you,” You giggle as he groans, before grabbing a stick for you to toast. “Thank you.” You snack on the marshmallow as he asks you some things.

“So are we a thing now?” You nearly choke on your stick as Jungkook awaits an answer.

“I guess. I never really liked labels though, how about we just call it “us?” It’s a lot easier when we don’t have to explain it.”

“You’re right,” Jungkook stays silent for a bit, making the entire exchange feel almost...normal. “You like me, right?” You stay silent for a few seconds, enjoying the calm environment for once.

“Yes.”

When you wake up this time, It’s a lot more clearer and satisfying. You finished your dream, and now Jungkook trusts you. You knew it would be only a matter of time before Jungkook was fully healed.

“Are you happy now? You went back into his dream and threw the rulebook out of the window,” Says Yoongi as you feel a slight pain in the back of your head. “Oh, and I didn’t try to move you from your spot because you just looked like you were sleeping peacefully.”

“Jerk.” You get up, dusting yourself off and glaring at your “partner” before going off to change. You liked wearing different clothes around the house because it made you feel like time was moving forward. Or else everyday just feels like the same day repeating over and over again.

You also put on some makeup, forgetting in between that you had some lipstick on so you ended up swallowing some products but it was okay because nothing was too harmful. Monsters ate all kinds of trash back in your world, anyways. The foundation gives you a more natural look since your skin was an ashy shade of blue and very pale without it.

You went about your day like normal until a doorbell rang, alerting you and Yoongi. “I didn’t see any emails about a dream inspector checking up on us today.” Yoongi whispers as you stay completely still.

“Maybe it’s a surprise visit?” You hoped no one found out about your selfish actions while you were in Jungkook’s dream. Kissing him was already a huge breach of the rules.

When you open the door, you’re at a loss for words. Jungkook was standing before you, looking at you and Yoongi like he had seen a ghost. Before he could say anything, you pull him inside the apartment, shutting the door behind him.

Day 7

You put Jungkook to sleep before saying anything else, silent as mice as he rested on your multicolored retro bean bag. Yoongi paces back and forth, flipping through his handbook and nursing you internally.

“Dammit. There’s nothing about this in the rulebook.”

“That’s because regular people solve these things with their heads. You have a brain, so use it!” You knock some sense into him before kneeling down to take Jungkook’s pulse.

“Let’s go into his dream and see what it is that needs fixing. Maybe when he wakes up I can sprinkle him with some five-minute forgetting powder.”

“Do you think that’ll work?” You ask with worry as Yoongi rushes to look at all of the beakers filled with magical potions and fairy dust and other things he might need to make dream dust. You still didn’t have the recipe.

“I don’t know. But I trust you and after seeing how you handled most of this on your own, I’ll let you finish it. Alone.” You squeak in excitement, staying quiet as Jungkook snores lightly and turns over in the beanbag.

“Hurry, he’s gonna wake up.” Yoongi panicked and spilled some sleep powder on him, that’s why Jungkook was unconscious but he wasn’t in such a state where he would dream. It was a temporary formula, meant to last only a few minutes before he woke up again. Unless Yoongi doused him in dream dust. You got ready to follow him into his dreams again one last time, as Yoongi held the bag of dust over your heads, making sure you were snuggled up beside Jungkook in the bed before sprinkling you both with dream dust.

“I must be dreaming.” Jungkook blinks twice as you come into view. He was currently standing in your apartment, the same one he visited before he passed out. Except Yoongi was nowhere to be seen, it was just you.

“Would you like some tea, coffee, water?” You offer, acting like you were another figure in his dreams.

“Water is fine, thanks,” You watch him swipe his fingers through his long, curly hair. He looks so dreamy, sitting before you on the breakfast bar where you eat with Yoongi everyday. You wouldn’t mind spending every morning with him. Jungkook seems like the ideal husband. Yet the idea of settling down with a human scares you, you would never be allowed to expose your true self to him. Even if you dated him, you’d have to end up leaving him one day. It’s the only way to protect your world. Humans can be dangerous and destructive creatures. Who knows what would happen if Jungkook went to the news? You would be called a freak, or even worse by local news stations.

You got lost in your thoughts for a moment before Jungkook brought you back. “Why did you move here? To this town, I mean.” Jungkook knew this city was relatively tiny and all of the people knew each other.

“I wanted to get away. From responsibilities, my old life.”

“Did your boyfriend want that too?” You nearly spit out your drink at that, Jungkook thought Yoongi was your boyfriend?

“I’m sorry, I don’t have a boyfriend. Only an older brother, if I have to label him that.”

“Oh, I see.” Jungkook sips his water in silence, watching you with those innocent doe eyes.

“What’s troubling you?” You ask him as he suddenly looks sad, morrow filling his gaze as he continues to stare at you.

“I’m all alone in this world.” He sighs, as you put a hand on his shoulder.

“No you’re not. You have me, and your memories of Yoongi.” Jungkook’s breathing turns shallow.

“You’re just an extension of me. As much as I want you to be real I can’t even remember what your face looks like,” With all of your might, you try to make your surroundings more detailed just so Jungkook could remember the dream better when he wakes up. “What is your name?” He asks after careful consideration.

“Y/N.”

“What a beautiful name.” He kisses you ever so slightly, leaning in after you backed away momentarily.

“You’re a distraction.” You shut your eyes tightly as he places the most tender kisses on your exposed neck.

“What does that make you?” He grins, cheekily sliding his tongue over the surface of your lips.

“I’m only a woman.” You give into your desires, kissing him full on the lips after realizing that you don’t care about the consequences to your actions. You want to kiss him, dammit!

“You make me feel less lonely.”

“Here, take this with you.” You press a picture into his warm palm, leaving him to wonder why you were acting so hasty.

“Why? What is it?”

“When you feel lonely or sad, just look at this picture. It’s a picture of me.” Jungkook looks down for a moment, to examine the item you gifted to him.

“Why are you acting like we don’t have much time together? You’re gonna keep visiting me, right?” You wipe your nose. You and Jungkook were never meant to be.

“Goodbye, Jungkook.”

“Y/N, wait!”

When Jungkook woke up, he felt something sticking to his palms. He was alone, but he could have sworn he felt another warmth. In his hand was a polaroid picture of a girl smiling at the camera. He felt comforted just looking at the picture, and turning it around he found a message on the back.

“I’ll always be with you- Y/N.” Jungkook smiles, looking at the bright afternoon sun as it blinds him through the sheer white curtains. It looks like he was able to meet his dream girl after all.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook #yoongi #bts #fluff #oneshot #jungkook imagine #jungkook fluff #Female reader #yoonkook #BTS jungkook #jeon jungkook #death #cute jungkook

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that-lieutenant · 3 years

Text

Of the relationship between Mairon and the orcs

An assortment of various of my HCs in one shot format i guess

[This is my first time writing fanfic (whaaat) and i sadly don‘t have an ao3 account yet (but i‘ll get to it once my personal life isn‘t hell anymore) so please consider giving this some love :) ]

Also: this is heavily influenced by @lemurious writing (because all my silm interpretations nowadays are, i just love their content ahh)

His people.

His headstrong, steadfast, steel hard, loyal, ingenious, beautiful people.

When he first came upon them, their bodies had already adapted perfectly to the cold northern tundra of their homeland. Thick grey skin, heavy hair, stocky build.

The wars would add countless scars and burns and limbs of metal.

But that was later.

When he first met his people what was war to them? To him? Who knew then about the horrors they would be forced to face at the hands of the other species of Arda? At a time when they did not even know there were other species.

When he first came upon his people he thought they were the firstborn children Eru had shown the Ainur in their vision. He thought he had been successful in discovering them first, before the other Valar could. He had been so relieved that they would be spared a life in the stifling superficial horror that was Valinor.

And they really are the firstborn. These other, warm skinned, bright eyed, spindly thin creatures that came pouring back from west a couple centuries later, who were they but Valarin lackeys, transformed beyond recognition? And then they demanded land and loyalty and called their primogenitors disfigured and corrupted.

He knows now that he should not have been so surprised back then that these usurpers had shown themselves to have come with the blessing of Illuvatar. After all what were firstborn to Eru? Truly, what had been He Who Arises In Might, the firstborn of the Ainur, what had been his people, the firstborn of his children, to Eru?

The actions of this absentee god would speak clear words in the following millennia, they would come to learn.

When he first came to meet the true firstborn, when he lived among them, when he learned their customs, their language, their love and he found connections so deep they would fuel him for ages to come, that was when he knew he had found his people. And together with their leaders and his own brethren they were able to lay the foundations for a culture that would thrive in spite of its creator and the eternal war this creator perpetuated.

In merely a few centuries, together they were able to develop technologies that would not be seen again the following age.

And then?

The wrath and unquestioned self-righteousness of their enemies erupts over Beleriand and the years of intense warfare lead to brutal massacres. On both sides – he is nowhere close to being without fault; that fierce love of his people has lead him to commit some of the most heinous acts of violence over and over again – but even now he remembers climbing down into the ruins of their underground cities after their defeat. He remembers the protective bunkers filled with civilian bodies and standing in their spilled blood.

The ones that got out in time were mostly soldiers because they had been evacuatable once the defeat was imminent. But the workers, the engineers, the caretakers, the children, those who they had wanted to keep safe in the bunkers? It was too late for them by the time they realises that nothing they could do would stop the fortress from being taken. And then the Valar went on and slaughtered them all.

It is his fault. And at the time it seemed like the worst one he would ever make.

As a nuclear firestorm destroys Beleriand, as the remnants of an entire continent drown in the sea behind them, and he and what is left of his people loose everything, the only thing he can do is lead them away, further and further east. Until he can‘t even do that anymore.

Because at that point everything just collapses in on him. His work has been shattered to pieces, all his brethren and most of his trusted generals killed, his lord, his partner, his lover, his pillar was taken and with that he just stops functioning.

In their hour of greatest need he abandons his people. After all, the only thing he ever seems to bring to them is war and death.

For a millennium he just… There is no purpose, no responsibility. Distantly he hears of the hardships his people are facing now in the East. How slow civilisations develop without the energy of a Vala or three radiating stones to power them. But he shuts it all out. He becomes numb to it.

And strangely, when he stumbles upon the new settlements of the second firstborn he isn‘t filled with unadulterated unstoppable rage. He is just tired. After all, what, truly, are these creatures but the Valar‘s playball in their game of who-is-the-most-despicable-without-realising? And strangely, these Eldar do not recognise who he is.

So why not, he thinks. Why not live in easy expedients for once, why not push away the past and continue to abdicate any responsibility he has to his that people? He crafts a name and a lie to start his new life of ignorance is bliss.

Oh, sweet Tyelpe. How easy it is to share the discoveries they had made in the first age with this ellon when the reward is all eyes big of wonder and desperation to discover more of this „Valinorian“ technology. It is so much like in the old days when he and his brethren and the best scientist of his people would find new methods and formulas to describe the world around them that he can‘t help but loose himself in the intelligent conversations of their workshop, the peaceful thriving of their city, the warm tenderness of their embrace.

They work to create better methods of gaining and storing energy then until they eventually develop the rings that can provide enough power to sustain entire cities.

They plan to make rings for the strongholds of dwarves and men and Eldar. But what about his people, he finds himself thinking. These technologies that are now used in the elvish kingdoms, they are only a small part of what was developed by and for him and his people in the first place. So what about his people?

He feels restless now. Old anger at injustice and blind self-righteousness arise in him again. In secret he starts travelling to the settlements his people have made in a country they call Mordor. The conditions there are rough and the technology now primitive compared to their glorious past but he sees a lot of recent progress.

All of the generals and leaders of old are long dead now and it takes a lot of time and effort to convince his people to trust him again, that he can and will help and that he won‘t abandon them again. They start building an underground city and a fortress once more, Barad-dûr, where the energy will be harvested. He creates a ring more powerful than any of the ones before. It has to supply the entire population after all.

When he returns to Eregion something has changed.

He can feel a strange charge in the air. Are the Eldar suspecting something? They all seem very worried at the sudden surge of activity in Mordor and he is starkly reminded that these Eldar, at the end of the day they still view his people as an ultimate but also undignified threat.

He knows something is wrong when Tyelpe suggests that their rings might also be used as a weapon. One of mass destruction. Mass destruction of his people that is. Tyelpe leaves that unsaid but it is clear as day what he means.

He doesn‘t need to worry about the rings for the elven cities anymore, Tyelpe tells him then and smiles.

A primordial fear settles into his bones. The horror at what is to come turns his stomach. What has he done? How could he have given all this help, all this power to the Eldar when they would only turn around and use it against his people?

He remembers sitting outside on some steps, pulling at his hair, his entire body shaking, growing increasingly mad at all the options that seem to slip out his hands one by one. And when Tyelpe comes to meet him there the only thing left for him to do is to push the ellon against a pillar, knife to his eye and demand the elvish rings he devised in secret. But Tyelpe laughs bitterly and spits in his face.

So it is truly you, the abhorred one, the dark foe‘s torturer, his whore.

This time it is his own wrath that razes cities to the ground. His people are ready for war. They have to be. And the next centuries are dictated by mindless destruction and production lines of battle machinery being the first thing that is re-introduced into the city of his people.

But still the population grows again, the conditions improve, their underground civilisation expands and he finds that he can make alliances with some of the human tribes and kingdoms that they had given rings of power to.

He and his people once again find ways to live in perfect symbiosis with the harsh climate of their land. Volcanic soil is fertile, air and water can be filtered and the ring offers them enough power to sustain artificial lights for growing crops underground and more.

It‘s progress but one that they keep secret. Because just like he is fuelled by the fear of elvish development, the Eldar would surely bring about another war of wrath if they knew about the advancements of his people.

The whole Numenorean ordeal that followed some centuries later was a mess. When that conquerer-king and his armies march upon Mordor he has no choice but to give in quickly. They cannot risk being invaded. Luckily these men are self-complacent enough to take their smugness and their ‚victory‘ and leave again. Though they also feel the need to drag him to that forsaken island of theirs.

Ar-Pharazon truly was a conquerer. He stretched his hands further and further for more colonies on the continent while his nation corroded away with by civil war. The golden king took and took from everyone around him and the displays of subjugation he was continually forced to perform to this king were manifold and in all kinds of ways.

Of course the wrath of the Valar that they unleashed upon the island as soon as they felt slightly threatened in their superiority was in the end blamed on him. He only ever indulged the Numenoreans‘ fantasies. When they brought him to their island it was already on the brink of collapse with conflict and misanthropic ideologies. Sure he, too, lost himself a bit in that collective insanity; he was complicit, so was everyone else. And then Eru felt they could cast judgement upon all these individuals and drowned yet another continent.

He laughs in the face of such insolence. It‘s hysterical, maybe more so a scream.

Then the water hits his body. It presses all the air out, breaks his ribs, crushes his lungs.

When he awakes again he is floating on a piece of driftwood, endless blue stretches around him. His body is raw and for some reason he finds himself unable to shift form anymore. He starts to panic, tries to force his particles to regroup in a way that forms a bird, a fish, something, he needs to get out of this blue emptiness now, he needs to – what is happening??

There is another war at the end of that age, but by that time his memory has turned into an indecipherable blur. It leads to yet more massacre. But worst of all, they take the ring.

For him it is as if all the tissue that holds him together suddenly loosens. He falls to his knees, sacks into himself. He can feel his spirit oozing out of the leaks that now penetrate his form. He stumbles back.

In the underground city the lights go dark, the industrial production comes to a standstill, the water and air filters turn off. His people pour out of their homes once they start to starve, once they realise that their military has lost the war and that their government has no way of dealing with the catastrophe.

They are in need but once again he is abandoning them. He is just so tired.

In the tower there is a large tank with cooling liquid for the energy production of the ring that he now lies in. In the pitch-black darkness his bones have started to shine with a dim fluorescent green. His body has started to disintegrate.

Outside he can feel the remnants of his peoples civilisation fall to ruin a second time. It takes only a few decades for them to return to the primitive conditions of their life without a secure energy supply.

And then suddenly it‘s not only his body that disintegrates anymore but the heavy elements in him too. At a faster rate than is normally used to power an Ainu‘s body that is. The heat of the nuclear fission that has set in brings the coolant to the boil and he had just barely enough mind and willpower left to set off the steam turbine. With a thudding noise the whole energy plant slowly comes to life again.

And for the next millennia Mairon lies submerged in the coolant tank, his body glowing and radiating and falling apart, his atoms splitting and powering a city that has been abandoned and he can only hope that his people will come back and reclaim what is theirs by right and rebuild their lives, their culture, their technology with the last energy that he has to give.

#How Mairon turns himself into an atomic reactor: a powerpoint with pictures #sci fi tolkien #silmarillion #tolkien #mairon #orcs #lotr #silmarillion fanfiction #fanfic #technology #science in tolkien #sauron

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kellbellsparkles · 3 years

Text

Chapter 10 of my Ratchet and Clank fanfic "Family"

Clank thinks he's in the safe zone until proven wrong. Rivet and Kit meet a new Lombax who seemingly offers good graces and services

Meanwhile, Rivet and Kit exited Zurkie's Explosive Diner in dismay from failing to reach Clank.

"Straight to voicemail," Rivet said as she took a sip out of a water bottle. "That's okay, right? That doesn't mean anything."

"I could try again," Kit suggested.

Suddenly, her head bulbs flashed. Kit flinched, taken aback.

"Oooor he could call back."

"Hello?" Clank's voice buzzed. "Kit? Rivet?"

"Bolts!" Rivet cheered, kneeling to Kit's level. "Thank goodness! How are ya?"

"If I may speak the truth, I fled to your dimension because someone placed an incredibly extravagant bounty on my head for unknown reasons. Maybe. A lot has been happening."

"Tell us where you are so we can come get you and figure this out!"

"Negative…. For I fear that I do not know where my dimensional jump has landed me."

"Isn't Ratchet with you?"

"I cannot involve him in this. He is spending much needed quality time with his mother."

Rivet's and Kit's eyes widened in grand stupor. They looked to each other for a moment to see if they heard right.

"Did you just say his mother?" Rivet quoted.

"Yes," Clank said. "She came from the past through a time portal, one of many that have torn open due to when the original Dimensionator exploded."

Rivet shook her head.

"That sounds incredibly confusing," she stated. "And I want to hear all about it, but right now, do you mean to say that you dimension hopped without a set coordinates or even pinning Kit's location?"

"That is correct," Clank answered. "An assassin left me no time."

"Well. describe your surroundings."

"It is quite bright and busy with an incredibly long line of people. And something stinks incredibly fierce."

From the corner of her eye, Kit spotted Clank just inside the diner. She motioned for Rivet to look behind her. Rivet whipped around and saw him, too. She finger whistled.

"Bolts!" she called out. "We're over here!"

Clank looked outside and saw the girls waving at him. He swung open the door and hurried outside towards them.

"I suppose that was easy enough," he said.

"May I ask what the person who attacked you looked like?" Kit inquired.

"Why's that important if they're in the other dimension?" Rivet questioned.

"It may be important for Ratchet to know so he can assist us when he is able," Kit replied.

"I could not identify the species," Clank said. "It all happened so fast. All I remember is Sigmund carrying me and protecting me. And a flash of green light when the assassin caught up to us."

Rivet froze, clenching her fists on the ground and gritting her teeth.

"A flash of green light?" she mouthed.

"Rivet?" Kit said worryingly. "Are you alright?"

"Oh yeah," Rivet said. She inhaled deeply. "I just had a flashback. That's all."

"Of?"

"Okay. This sounds pretty crazy, but I'm thinking that the assassin is the dimensional counterpart to the Streaker."

Kit gasped.

"The Streaker? Oh no…"

"Who is the Streaker?" Clank asked.

"He was bioengineered by Emperor Nefarious to be the perfect soldier," Kit said. "Enhanced speed, enhanced strength, enhanced sense of smell…. I have seen him hunt down and execute resistance members without fail. With Nefarious deposed, he could be working for anyone now."

"He also killed Tasha," Rivet interjected.

Clank tilted his head curiously.

"Who?"

Rivet showed him the picture of the two of them together that she'd showed Kit previously. Clank leaned and stared; his eyes lit up in as he recognized the similarity between the relationship between her and Rivet.

"Was she perhaps a political figure as well?" he asked.

"Her dad was," Rivet scoffed. "But he sold out to Nefarious. My Tasha wanted no part of it and ran away with me instead." She sighed with a lovestruck smile. "That's my girl. So brave and independent."

"I am so sorry for your loss," Clank said with a sad tone.

Rivet closed her treasured holographic picture. She stared down at her artificial hand.

"I was still getting used to my new arm," she said. "I was raring to get back to my old self again. Me and Tasha were infiltrating a prison camp for people who didn't tip the patrol officers. We were going to outfit them with weapons we'd taken after we knocked out the guards so they could defend themselves as we escaped. We got to the prisoners and I was so close to breaking the code on the prison lock. That's when Tasha pulled me out of the way. The Streaker had gotten the jump on us and we were forced to retreat without them. I tried to fight him as Tasha prepped our getaway bike. It wasn't our first shakedown with him, so it wasn't hard to predict where he was going to strike from his zoom maneuver, but my arm…. It completely locked on me. Tasha finished prepping our ride and saw I was in trouble…. The Streaker removed his glove and rammed his glowing fist towards me."

Kit's eyes fell to the ground in shame. Rivet's lips quivered as she recalled the moment her partner's life ended.

"It was all a blur after that," Rivet recalled. "I just held onto her tight, grappled onto the bike, and drove away. That same night, I buried her in our clubhouse where we could just kick back and just be girls. I set it on fire, too. She would've wanted to go out like that." She took a sip from her water bottle once more.

Kit twiddled her fingers and shuffled her feet. An overwhelming wave of remorse splashed over her.

"Rivet, I--"

In that same moment, however, every big broadcasting screen in the area showed a portrait of Clank with the thirty billion bolt bounty price tag. Rivet spit out her water and started coughing and gasping. Kit did a double take in every direction; nothing had changed.

As for Clank, the world towered around him, or it was him that started to feel smaller. The various sounds dulled and dialed down into a buzzing muffle. He began to see pairs of piercing eyes throwing daggers at him accompanied with whispers and laughter. He stumbled backwards. Kit took notice.

"Clank?" she said with a worried tone. She took a step forward. All Clank saw was a distorted figure coming after him. He leapt in fright and ran away.

"Clank!" she cried out. "Wait! Let us help you!"

But he was gone, lost in the merged crowd of confusion. Unable to do anything else, she stood by Rivet and rubbed her right side as she caught her breath.

"Thirty--" she panted. "Thirty bill-- thirty bi-- Thee-- illion--"

"This does not make any sense," Kit said with alarm in her voice. "Why would there be a bounty for him here, too?"

"Oh dear. What a day it's been, hasn't it?"

A woman wearing a brown fur cloak had approached them. She removed her hood to reveal that she was another Lombax. She had silver stripes, black fur, a brown nose, white hair, and grey eyes that lacked pupils.

"Perhaps I could be of assistance if you'll have me," she said.

Rivet gasped and staggered, falling on her butt.

"A-Are you really?" she stammered in shock. "First Ratchet, then his mom, now you? Are they really coming back?"

"Maybe," the Lombax said. "Our meeting could be a sign of a new age of reunion and beginnings. My name is Lazuli."

"R-Rivet," Rivet said as she scrambled to stand herself up. "My name is Rivet. And this here is Kit."

"It is an honor to meet you, Ms. Lazuli," Kit said in wonder.

"Would you like to meet my colleagues and my family?" Lazuli asked.

"Oh my-- there's even more?" Rivet spoke shakily.

"I came to this city for a special keratin shampoo that can only be found here for my son," Lazuli said. "He's quite particular about what he wants."

"Is it Shimmer Me Shine??"

"The very same."

Rivet let out a loud excited squeal.

"Me and Tasha would go on high speed heists for that stuff!" she exclaimed.

"It sounds like my Jonas would love to share his beauty tips with you," Lazuli remarked in an amused tone. "I hope you don't mind the age difference. Let's just say I'm pushing the envelope of the average lifespan myself."

"Are you kidding? Age is just a number! Beauty is boundless!"

"Well said. Shall we be on our way then?"

"Absolutely! You guys must have ship tons of gadgets that make my collection look like a beginner's manual!" Rivet scooped Kit into her arms.

"Kit!!" she wailed in elation. "We get to meet other Lombaxes!!"

"This is wonderful!" Kit beamed. "Surely we will be able to rescue Clank in no time!"

Lazuli closed her eyes and giggled silently to herself. Rivet skipped beside her.

"By the way," she said. "Are your eyes okay?"

"They are," Lazuli said. "It's a genetic aesthetic condition known as Nuliris that goes back way before my time. My children and some of our allies have it as well. In fact, it does more than give us a unique look. I'd be happy to show you once we've reached my ship."

Rivet and Kit hummed and hugged each other in eager anticipation. A new Lombax, a door to meet other Lombaxes, a new realm of adventure.

#ratchet and clank #ratchetandclankriftapart

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thanksjro · 4 years

Text

More Than Meets the Eye #6- Rung Has a Friggin’ Day

It’s time for therapy.

Finally.

It turns out that Ratchet didn’t forget about Fortress Maximus’ acts of extreme violence in all the chaos that was last issue, and requested that Fort Max get set up with some mandatory counseling. Of course, because it’s been about a week in Fort Max-time since Garrus 9 went down, he’s not exactly thrilled to talk about what happened. And who can blame him? Garrus 9 sucked big time for everyone involved, even Overlord.

Fort Max claims to not remember what happened- he’s lying, and we’re treated to a flashback that sort of justifies his fib- and Rung suggests they get Chromedome involved, which seems perhaps a bit unethical? To just rip traumatic memories that may or may not be repressed out of a guy’s head? Like, I’m not super well-versed in psychiatry, but that seems a little off.

Rung, in an attempt to make Fort Max feel a little safer, tells him that Overlord- though he doesn’t say his name, because triggering Fort Max could literally get people killed- was neutralized about as efficiently as possible for their species.

I can’t believe Cybertron has a better veteran healthcare system than the United States.

Enough of Fortress Maximus’ impending implosion, it’s time for bar shenanigans!

Over at Swerve’s, Trailbreaker is proving to be completely incapable of keeping his drink in his glass, as Chromedome participates in a game where he has to guess who’s transforming into their alt-mode, based purely on the sound. He gets it in one, and everyone loses their shit. Chromedome, never one to hype himself, takes the opportunity to instead build Rewind up, because he just loves him that much.

Fortress Maximus gets brought up, and while Trailbreaker thinks the guy’s a little overrated, the others have heard about what happened on Delphi, and proceed to learn the wrong lesson from the whole thing. Tailgate enters the scene, after a rousing study session with everyone’s favorite giant neurotic.

Tailgate, you fool! It’ll be another 41 issues before Cyclonus is ready to even acknowledge his feelings!

It’s good to know that Tailgate doesn’t hold any grudges over the info dump Rewind gave him the other day. Also, that table looks like a nightmare to clean.

Ultra Magnus walks in, looking about as cheery as he possibly can considering who he is, promptly arrests Swerve for running the bar without taking bureaucracy into account, and whisks the little jabber jaw away in handcuffs, practically carrying him off by the scruff like a kitten.

Fort Max enters the room, having decided to grab a drink after the ordeal that is mandatory therapy.

Of course, it wouldn’t be a day on the Lost Light without something going just a little screwy.

This is a typical Wednesday for Pipes.

Fort Max proceeds to wreck several robots, seemingly at random, though he somehow manages to not actually kill any of them. Intentional or not? We still have several pages of this issue to get through, hold your horses! All will be revealed in time.

Which brings us to now. Fort Max has locked himself in Rung’s office, alongside Rung and the poor sap who was unlucky enough to have had an appointment when the big guy showed up. Rodimus and Drift are trying to figure out just what the hell to do with this current situation. Magnus enters, having just set Swerve up with his punishment, and berates Rodimus for letting Fort Max run around with a gun, as if 90% of the crew doesn’t also have massive weapons literally built into their bodies.

Blaster gets a video feed from one of the surveillance cameras going, and we get a good look at just how fucked this whole thing has become, because as it turns out, Rung’s appointment for this time slot was none other than Whirl, instigator extraordinaire, and being stabbed by some ship piping has done absolutely nothing to slow his suicidal roll.

That gun is positively ridiculous. Where were you even KEEPING that thing, Max?

It only takes a couple of face-mashings with the barrel of the BFG to get Whirl to back off, accomplishing what Rung simply cannot, because Whirl doesn’t play by the rules of anyone who values their life in any capacity. You’d think it’d take more than that to shut him up, but Whirl’s head is made of plot, so it’s a bit delicate.

Rung spots the camera, and decides to make himself useful by providing audio to this whole debacle, by way of his microphone thumb.

Now, a hostage situation just isn’t complete without some sort of demand in exchange for the safety of said hostages, and Fort Max has quite the doozy for Rodimus: he wants to go back to Cybertron, so he can confront Prowl on the slow response to the hell that was Garrus 9. Max was trapped there for over three years before the Wreckers came along, and it’s still pretty fresh for him because of the coma letting him skip a lot of time he could have spent healing.

Pro-tip: when handling a hostage situation, don’t get into a screaming match with the dude who’s about to shoot the only mental health specialist your race has ever managed to produce. Blaster gets it.

Rung is many things, but is no actor, as is made apparent by him holding his microphone thumb-bound hand in the most fucking conspicuous way possible. Fort Max notices- because how could he not?- and relieves Rung of this terrible burden.

Rung is really regretting not minoring in theatre right about now.

Hours later in the medibay, First Aid is proving to have gone mad with power, as he maintains some dangerously high snark levels while keeping the victims of Fort Max’s spree stable. Ratchet, whose hands are still Pharma-blue, is starting to piece together the reasoning behind who got shot.

That’s right, Fort Max was embarrassed that he showed up with the same color paint as all these guys, and tried to kill them to keep his fashion faux pas to a minimum.

Back in Rung’s office, Whirl’s dropped all pretense due to sheer boredom, and straight-up asks Fort Max to just get it over with and shoot them both. Having his thumb ripped off has made Rung a bit snippy, and he snaps at Whirl for the quip, before Max decides that he’s actually rather interested in just what Whirl’s appointment was going to cover. Rung tries to stymie this line of questioning, but he really ought to know not to get in the way of the plot progression at this point.

Whirl does decide to spill his beans, if only after Rung gets the obscenely large barrel of Max’s obscenely large gun pressed to one whole side of his face.

It turns out Whirl has depths to him, or at least he did, once upon a time. Before he got booted out of the Wreckers, before he was even in the Wreckers, he created as opposed to destroyed. More specifically, he was a watchmaker, good enough to find an audience in the time of Functionist Cybertron. Now, because he’s a helicopter, the guys up top weren’t too jazzed about Whirl not doing what he’d “been born to do,” on top of not giving them any of his sweet watch money, and decided to start fucking up his life to get him back in line. They started with tearing his shop to the ground.

But we’ll get to what the hell empurata is in a few issues.

Also, while Whirl’s been sharing his backstory, Rung managed to grab his model ship from off the floor.

I’m not sure how he managed to get ahold of his model without making a giant clumsy scene either, considering that’s his thumbless hand.

Rung, because he’s a clever man, is staring super hard at the camera and making kind of a weird face as he taps on the little windows of his model ship, signaling to Rodimus and crew to see what they can do with the windows outside of his office. He’s got three real big ones that let you see out- or in- the whole room. Rodimus makes a call, and we get a proper understanding of what Chromedome meant when he said Rewind was outside.

No kidding.

Rewind and Swerve are on rivet replacement duty, using rivet guns nearly as big as they are. Swerve’s passing the time idly chatting, because that’s his whole deal.

Knowing Swerve, that’s probably a joke, but given what we learn a few issues after this, on how exactly Cybertron handles those who don’t fall in line, I can’t help but wonder…

Okay, we know why Swerve’s out here, but what’s Rewind’s deal?

You remember those data discs Red Alert mentioned last issue, the ones Rewind was begging Chromedome to help him find? The ones he got from Swindle at the start of the series? Yeah, turns out those were chock-full of video footage of people dying.

Rodimus didn’t like the fact that Rewind had brought snuff films onto the Lost Light, and now here he is. We don’t get an explanation as to why he wanted the films in the first place, though he does integrate that it isn’t a pleasurable thing to watch. Rodimus calls, interrupting the conversation, and asks Rewind to take a walk.

Returning to the office, we find that Whirl’s really pouring it out now, giving us his whole life story.

Rung’s reaction here is equal parts sweet and sad. It’s like he’s never had a fucking friend in his entire life. Rung seems terribly lonely.

We also get the answer as to what exactly Whirl did to get kicked out of the Wreckers- he tried to mercy-kill Springer. After the events of Last Stand, Fort Max wasn’t the only one in a coma, and Whirl saw the writing on the wall in terms of Springer’s chances of recovery. He tried to put the guy out of his misery, but was caught and kicked to the curb before that could happen.

And that’s about where he stops. You know, if it weren’t for the whole “being held at gunpoint” thing, this would have been an amazing therapy session! Whirl really opened himself up today, I’m proud of him.

Fort Max realizes that the ship hasn’t turned around to head back to Cybertron, and that’s about the point where he decides it’s time to make good on his threat. Whirl volunteers as tribute, as Swerve and Rewind peek through the window, ready to enact the next phase of Rodimus’ plan.

Rung tries to deescalate, with Whirl reescalating in equal measures, because he is actively and violently suicidal at this point, bringing us to a standstill in negotiations as Ratchet finally gets ahold of Rodimus to tell him something very important.

Ratchet’s sussed out the central pin in this pegboard of PTSD, and it’s Overlord. Every guy Fort Max put in the ICU looked at least somewhat like that lippy bastard. Rung comes to a similar conclusion on his end, claiming that Fort Max is acting out because he went through hell at Overlord’s hand, and wants payback.

Outside the office, Rewind is lining up to shoot Fort Max with his rivet gun, though he has his reservations.

It’s a special kind of love that makes you want your husband to support you through sniping a guy five times bigger than you.

Rewind’s lining up the shot, when Fort Max moves behind a pillar. Time for Plan B.

Rodimus, you can’t just SAY that to him, he’s a married man.

Whirl’s egging Fort Max on, his eye flaring out in a way that one might consider to be crying, though if you asked him he’d absolutely deny it. Then Garrus 9 pays everyone a little visit, by way of Rewind’s camera projecting on the wall. This freezes Fort Max in his tracks, because of course it would. That shit’s terrifying. He breaks down, falling to the floor in a heap.

I suppose this is one way to handle a hostage situation. Rodimus, not wanting to take any chances, orders Swerve to take the shot anyway.

Safe to say, Swerve wasn’t top of his class at the military academy.

As Fort Max mourns the loss of Rung, Whirl yanks that pipe that’s been stabbed into his belly for the last several hours out, and returns the favor, getting Max right in the chest.

Shit.

All those fucking therapy appointments are going to have to be rescheduled. There are over 200 robots on this ship.

I sure hope Rung had a secretary to handle all that.

Later on, after the messy stuff’s been dealt with, Rodimus and Drift have a chat about Red Alert, and how he’s developing a potential to be a liability. As they talk, Red Alert is shown to be ripping the drill arm off that guy who got eaten by the quantum engine and using it to dig into the floor where he heard that super-slow voice. What does he find? I hope it’s treasure!

...That’s not treasure.

Hey, Rung?

Rung?

Buddy, I think someone might’ve been fibbing when they said that.

Nobody tell Fort Max about this.

#transformers #jro #mtmte #issue 6 #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #comic script writing

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setaripendragon · 4 years

Text

Never Simple - Chapter 6

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] Happy winter holidays to everyone! This chapter is entirely explanations. It felt cathartic to write for me, but it does go over quite a lot of the awful from the last chapter (check those warnings), so if that upset you, this might not be entirely safe to read either. And an extra warning for actual on-screen cannibalism.

The only thing Ed could do was get Nina out of the lab and away from… everything. So, feeling sick to his stomach and hollow right down to his bones, he tucked Nina’s head against his shoulder and picked her up while she continued to clutch at his shirt with hands like claws and scream her head off. Then he turned towards the door, and froze.

Roy Mustang was standing there, turned to a badly lit silhouette by the light from the stairway, one hand still raised with fingers poised to snap. “Mustang.” Ed said dumbly, while inside him, Truth coiled, tense and wary. The sound of his name seemed to knock the man out of whatever stupor had caught him, and he shook himself, lowering his hand and very carefully stepping out of the doorway to make room for Ed to pass him. Ed didn’t move, though. “What’re you doing here?”

“I called him.” Al said from somewhere beyond the doorway.

That made sense, Ed thought. He felt a little perturbed that he couldn’t even remember noticing that Al had disappeared at some point during the confrontation with Tucker. He knew he’d been a little preoccupied, but that was worrying. Nina’s scream finally tapered off, only for her to suck in a deep breath, and start wailing. Ed winced, the sound piercing him right to his core and twisting him up into knots.

Mustang cleared his throat. “You should… take Nina upstairs while I deal with Tucker.” He stated. Ed nodded, and with a little help from Truth, forced his feet to start moving again. He stopped with one foot on the stairs, though, with Al hovering worriedly several steps above him, to look back at Mustang. The man had paused when Ed did, and was looking back with a worried frown.

“Don’t kill him.” Ed said, half way between a request and a warning.

Mustang’s expression softened for a brief moment when his eyes flicked down to Nina, still wailing into Ed’s shoulder. “I won’t.” He stated, and Ed nodded. “Oh, but, Elric?” Mustang added as Ed began to turn away, halting him in his tracks. The expression on Mustang’s face when he looked back had gone steely with determination. “I’m going to expect a full explanation for all of this once I’m done down here.” He commanded.

“Sir, yes sir.” Ed replied, mustering up a little sarcasm from the dregs of his reserves. If he wasn’t much mistaken, there was the barest flicker of a smile on Mustang’s face before he turned his back on Ed to face the mess in the lab. Without another word, Ed resumed climbing the stairs towards Al’s worried face. Once at the top with Al at his side, Ed hesitated. He wasn’t sure where to go or what to do now. He dismissed the idea of trying to put Nina to bed. She doubtless wouldn’t be sleeping well for a long time yet, and nightmares were the last thing she needed right now, and besides, Ed wasn’t sure he could bear to let her out of his sight.

“Let’s go sit in the kitchen.” Al suggested. “We can-” He faltered for a moment, but then shook himself and stood a little straighter to press on. “We can all have some cocoa to help us calm down.” Like their mum used to do for them, when they woke up in the night with bad dreams. Ed nodded wordlessly, and followed his brother into the kitchen. He debated putting Nina down in one of the chairs, but she refused to let go of his pyjama top when he tried, so he relented and just settled her on his lap when he sat down. Al bustled about making cocoa, Nina’s wails lost some of their energy and turned into gasping sobs, and none of them said a word.

It wasn’t too long before Mustang found them. He looked a little surprised to see the mug of cocoa waiting for him in front of one of the empty seats, but he sat there and picked it up to sip at it with a tired attempt at a smile. “Thank you.” He said, and it was so innocuous, so bland and polite and ridiculous, that Ed almost laughed. The urge died a moment later, however, when Mustang put his mug aside, braced his elbows on the table, and fixed Ed with an unwavering stare to say; “What, exactly, are you?”

Ed thought that if he hadn’t been so tired, so completely overwhelmed, that question might have freaked him out. As it was, he just had no idea how to answer it, but he knew he had to. Nina was quieting herself down, trying to listen without drawing any attention to herself, and she certainly deserved an answer, whether or not Mustang did.

“He’s my brother.” Al interjected defensively.

Mustang glanced at him, one eyebrow twitching upwards, before looking back to Ed. “And that thing you turned into down there?” He challenged.

Of course Mustang saw that. Resigned, Ed decided that words were just not going to work for him right now, so he simply laid one hand on the table palm up, and gave Truth a mental nudge. The response he got from Truth could basically be summed up as a vehement Nu-uh!

Don’t be a baby. He’s already fucking seen you, it’s not like he’s just going to forget you exist. Ed chided, rolling his eyes. Sometimes Truth didn’t at all act like the terrifying ancient monster it actually was. With emphatic reluctance, Truth oozed up out of Ed’s palm, tendrils of white biomass weaving together to form a little pod of a head. It looked, Ed thought with an edge of hysteria, like a sock-puppet. No eyes to speak of, but a thin little slit of a mouth where it was trying very hard not to show off its teeth.

“Oh.” Nina said, and reached out with one hand to poke at Truth. It bore the attention with only a vague sense of indignity, which melted away to fondness when Nina started petting it instead. It let out a quiet little croon of pleasure, a buzzing vibration that made Nina giggle. Then a couple of little rust-red tendrils flailed their way out of her wrist to pat at Truth’s head as well, and Nina recoiled in shock. The tendrils retreated with just as much alacrity.

“This… this is Truth.” Ed said, lifting his hand a little to indicate what he was talking about.

Mustang stared at Truth, then raised his eyes to meet Ed’s. “What is it?” He asked again.

Ed blinked at him, his mind drawing a complete blank on how, exactly, to answer that question. He let out a slightly deranged laugh. “I have no idea.” He said, which obviously did not reassure Mustang at all. Truth projected a mental sensation of being whacked upside the head at Ed.

“It would not be incorrect to call us a symbiote.” It explained.

Mustang twitched a little when it spoke, but otherwise contained his reaction quite well. “A symbiote.” He echoed flatly, eyeing Truth shrewdly. “That implies a certain level of cooperation, or perhaps even alliance, considering you appear to be sentient.”

Truth bobbed its head in a nod. “We’re working on that.” It confirmed, and Ed snorted.

Mustang stared at them for a painfully drawn out moment, then he bowed his head to pinch the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “I have far too many questions.” He said, mostly to himself, Ed thought. Then he raised his head again. “How long, exactly, have you… been with Elric?” He asked of Truth, faltering only a little over his words, which Ed thought was truly impressive.

“Since mere hours before you met us.” Truth answered.

Mustang just nodded like he expected that. “And before that?”

“I guarded the Gate.” Truth stated.

Mustang’s eyebrows rose, but before he could actually voice the question, Ed answered it for him. “The Gate is a cage that Truth built between the building blocks of reality to contain the rest of its species.” He explained. “Because most of the rest of its species are assholes.”

“Assholes?” Mustang echoed, faintly amused. “That doesn’t make very much sense for a symbiotic species.”

“They were not always this way.” Truth said, and it was hard to tell with the way its voice reverberated and echoed strangely, but Ed thought it sounded almost as sad as it felt. “We were once… better. I cannot say we were peaceful, but we were better. But we became corrupted, we began to believe that we were better than our hosts, that they ought to bow to our will, and so we began to consume them in unsustainable numbers. I was fortunate enough to find a compassionate host to teach me better, and when we saw with clear eyes what the rest of us had become, we knew we had to stop them, before they killed all humans and caused their own destruction.”

Nodding slowly, Mustang laced his fingers together in front of his face and frowned very intently over them at Ed and Truth. “And what happened to this Gate once you stopped guarding it?” He asked, sending a chill of realisation and fear through Ed.

“The Gate will continue to stand unless someone on the outside deliberately tries to tear it down.” Truth assured both Ed and Mustang. That was not quite as reassuring as it could be, but Ed would take it. “Greater numbers may be able to escape if I am not there to close the Gate behind any alchemist foolish enough to attempt to rend the fabric of the universe, but we have come to the reluctant conclusion that there are enough of our kin already walking free that we must act to stop them now.”

“How many?” Mustang asked, closing his eyes as though that might make the answer easier to bear.

“Dozens have escaped the Gate.” Truth informed them, and Ed didn’t know whether to wince at how high it was, or sigh in relief over how low it was. Mustang looked distinctly relieved when he opened his eyes, and the pity Ed felt coming from Truth at the expression made him decide that wincing was the right answer, so he did. “Some may have died in the intervening years, but also, some may have spawned, as Mania did.”

“Mania?” Mustang echoed.

“The one in the jar downstairs.” Ed informed him hollowly.

Mustang screwed his eyes shut and pressed the forefinger and thumb of one hand into them as though he was getting a pounding headache. “On the desk?” Mustang checked, and Ed hummed an affirmative. “It… spawned?” He asked, finally winching his eyes open to stare balefully at Ed and Truth. Ed nodded, something sticky and unpleasant clogging up his throat and making words hard to come by. He thought it might be guilt. Mustang glared at him. “A little more information would be helpful, here, Elric.” He bit out. “Exactly how many of these symbiotes do I need to be concerned about?”

Ed glared right back. “There are only three still alive in this house.” He spat out, even though just saying it made him feel sick. “Truth, Mania, and the one inside Nina.” Does it have a name? He asked Truth, feeling a little bit awful that he didn’t know.

Probably not, yet. Truth replied with the mental equivalent of a shrug. It takes time with a host to find a concept that fits. You should explain to him about the others. It added, and when Ed baulked at the idea of saying it out loud, took the duty upon itself with a scoff. “We sent the other two living infants to the Gate.”

Ed was a little relieved to see that Mustang winced at the word ‘infants’, too, but the man didn’t actually comment, or question the decision. “And there were no others?” He checked, instead.

“None that we saw.” Ed confirmed. “Except the dead ones in jars.” He added bitterly.

Everyone flinched at that, but it was Al who actually put his mug down hard enough to spill cocoa over the lip and stared at Ed in sudden, wounded horror. “Those… those were all…?” He breathed, before pressing a hand over his mouth.

“Dead babies in jars.” Ed confirmed bitterly. Nina made a tiny choked noise, and Ed immediately felt guilty for saying that in front of her. He held her a little tighter in apology.

“Nina?” Al asked softly. “Do you want to come and sit with me in the living room while Brother talks to Colonel Mustang?” Nina shook her head violently without looking up, and attached herself more firmly to Ed. Al looked helplessly at Ed, who shrugged. He still didn’t quite want to let Nina out of his sight, anyway. Mostly because he was terrified that if he did, the… the symbiote inside her would take the opportunity to go on a rampage, and he wouldn’t be there to stop it.

Mustang sighed, then visibly steeled himself, straightened his shoulders, and ploughed on, despite Nina’s presence. “Which brings us to the more immediate issue. What, exactly, did Tucker do?” Ed felt Nina shudder in his arms at the question, and started stroking her back, hoping to offer some comfort, because he wasn’t going to play down the shit the man had pulled to spare her.

“Where do I fucking start?” Ed groused.

“At the beginning?” Truth snarked.

Ed rolled his eyes. “Right, okay, the beginning. So. Uh, two years ago, that chimera Tucker made? That, uh, that was his wife.” He began, and Mustang sat bolt upright in some combination of outrage and disgust. “I suspected, you know, when you mentioned a talking chimera.” He went on, not letting the man get a word in edgeways. “Because there were only two ways I could think for him to have done that, made a chimera that could actually do proper grammar and shit. One was taking the language-processing centers from a human brain, and the other was knowing enough about brain structure and biochemistry and fucking neurotransmitters to fabricate a functional language-processing center.”

Mustang frowned. “Neuro…transmitters?” He echoed uncertainly.

Ed gave him a very pointed look. “Yeah.” He agreed. “I didn’t think he’d have that much knowledge without outside assistance, either.” He lifted the hand that Truth was still hovering over pointedly. Mustang made a reluctantly agreeable sort of face. “Turns out, it was both. He was trying so damn hard to mutilate his wife that he accidentally ripped the world apart and freed Mania.” Nina let out a sob at that, and Ed winced. “Shit, sorry.”

“Alright.” Mustang said calmly, although there was strain showing around his eyes. “But that was two years ago. What about tonight? I would very much like an explanation for all of that, because I’m still not quite sure I can believe what I think I saw.”

Ed took a deep breath, closed his eyes for a brief moment to recite a silent litany of Don’t wanna don’t wanna don’t wanna you can’t make me! inside his head before steeling himself to do it anyway. “I don’t have a clue how we got from there to here, honestly, but I figure Tucker thought that the- the symbiotes were a more impressive research project or something, because near as I can figure, he was trying to get Mania to- to spawn.”

“Going by the number of… occupied jars, we would say he’s been inducing Mania to spawn in substandard conditions for the last year at least. There are at least three nests worth of infants there.” Truth interjected. “Possibly more, given that this time, Mania only produced three offspring, rather than the more usual numbers.”

Al had both his hands over his mouth now. Ed ploughed on, because if he didn’t keep going now that he’d started, he’d never get through this. “I figure that’s what we walked in on tonight. He’d let Mania possess Alexander, and it had spawned.” Just the memory of that first look made Ed shudder with remembered horror. He wanted to close his eyes, but if he did that, he’d just see it again on the back of his eyelids, so instead, he stared at Mustang’s gloved hands and talked. He explained, as best he could the way Tucker asked Nina to hold one, and how Truth had sent it back to the gate, and how Tucker had put Mania back in a jar and monologued, how one of the babies had tried to eat Tucker by possessing Alexander, how Ed had pulled it out of Alexander, and-

“I ate him.” Nina interrupted, and her words silenced the room like a shout, even though they were barely audible, said in a strange, timid monotone. “I- I ate A-Alexand-der!” She sobbed, curling into Ed and starting to cry, jagged and breathless, into his shoulder.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Ed said, and then wanted to smack himself. It was so very obviously not okay that saying that was only going to make shit worse. “Look, Alexander… he was already dead. You know that, right? You- you didn’t hurt him, okay?”

“I- I d-didn’t m-mean to.” Nina wailed. “I- W-we were j-just s-so hungry!”

“I know.” Ed assured her, and he did. He really, really did. Truth was old, ancient, and had the self-control to warn Ed before they reached the point of a starving newborn desperate for a first proper meal, but… he remembered just how hungry Truth had been at the beginning, after centuries of not-quite hibernation in the space between the fabric of the world. “I know. It’s not your fault, Nina. You- Neither of you are to blame for wanting to live, okay?”

That just made Nina wail even louder. Ed supposed it wasn’t very convincing coming from the guy who’d disintegrated two of her… symbiote’s sibling for that exact reason. “I w-want my Daddy!” Nina cried, and Ed grimaced, eyes flicking up to meet Mustang’s in a plea for help.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible.” Mustang said, which at least meant Ed didn’t have to say it, but it wasn’t exactly helpful.

“We want our Daddy!” Nina insisted, and Ed felt a little chill run down his spine at the sudden shift to plural pronouns. His fears were only confirmed when her next repetition came out echoing and distorted; “You- you can’t send him away, too! We want our Daddy!”

Ed gaped, trying desperately to find the right words to explain why Nina wasn’t going to get to see her dad for a really long time, if Ed had anything to say about it, but there weren’t really words for that, were there? At least, not ones that wouldn’t hurt. Abruptly, Al got to his feet and left the room. “Al?” Ed called after him, but he got no response.

Looking deeply wary, Mustang got to his feet. “I’ll keep an eye on him.” He said, almost absently, to Ed, and followed Al out the door. Ed was left sitting there holding a sobbing girl who was begging for the father that had tried to eat her earlier this evening, wondering what the fuck was going on.

He wasn’t left to stew in his confusion for long, because Al was back within a couple of minutes, and he was carrying one of those awful jars. The one, Ed realised a moment later, with Mania still trapped inside. “Here.” Al said quietly, coming over and holding the jar out to Nina. “You can’t take the lid off right now, but… you can keep hold of it, if you want.”

Nina peeked out at him, let out another huge sob, and held out her hands in a very clear ‘gimme’ gesture. Feeling entirely nonplussed, Ed watched Al hand the jar over, watched Nina handle it with extreme caution until she had it securely in her arms, and watched as she cuddled it to her chest like it was her favourite teddy-bear while she continued to sob much more quietly.

We can’t let her keep it. Truth thought sadly.

Why the fuck not? It’s not hurting anyone in there. Ed retorted, deeply unwilling to take yet another thing away from Nina right now.

You want to leave it in that awful thing? Cramped and alone? Truth challenged.

The Gate looked pretty fucking cramped to me, too, and it’s not alone, it’ll have Nina and its baby. With the upside of no one’s going to fucking eat it while it’s in there. And don’t tell me that’s not a danger inside the Gate. That blue one was perfectly happing chewing on you.

That plasma could kill it.

I’m not saying it’s ideal, but the Gate isn’t exactly idea either, if you ask me, but it’s not a terrible solution for now, if it keeps Nina a little bit less traumatised. Ed didn’t really know what to do. Those jars had to be at least a little bit painful; they were too small for an adult-sized symbiote, and pressing into the glass had to be agony. It did seem cruel to leave a sentient creature locked up in one, but the Gate seemed pretty cruel, too.

Truth suddenly projected a sense of surprise and acceptance, a sort of huh, okay and when Ed responded with a questioning sort of feeling, it drew his attention back down to the jar. The jar in which Mania had stopped thrashing quite so violently. Instead, it was pulsing gently, not the unthinking twitches of the dead babies, but like a little heartbeat just beyond the second layer of glass.

“Huh.” Ed said, staring. If he hadn’t felt so drained, he would have smiled. “That settles that, then.”

“On the contrary.” Mustang interjected, recapturing Ed’s attention. He looked up with a glare, because if the man thought he was just going to let him take this away from Nina after everything she’d been through, he had another thing coming. Mustang stared back, uncowed and unreadable, fingers laced in front of his mouth again. “The military is going to have a very big problem with the idea of letting a civilian child keep hold of an unknown sentient species.”

Ed stiffened as he remembered exactly who this man was. He opened his mouth, ready to let loose a furious tirade, but Truth stopped him before he could get started. “You will not gain the renown of recruiting such a young and talented alchemist if we’re locked up in a lab somewhere.” It told Mustang calmly, which was definitely more diplomatic than what Ed had been planning to say. Mustang’s eyebrows rose. “If we let it get that far. Which we would not.” Ed grinned, sharp and feral.

Then he caught sight of a tiny crinkle at the corner of Mustang’s eye that could only be there if the bastard was smiling. “I didn’t say I would agree with them.” He pointed out smugly. “But it is going to be a problem, one that we’re going to need a solution for.”

Ed stared at him, thrown off-balance by such a rapid turn around. “You’re going to help us hide this shit?” He checked.

Mustang nodded, his smile dying. “I won’t claim to be a good man, Elric, but I like to hope that I have my limits, and condemning children to the life of a lab rat is on the far side of what I can live with.” He explained. Then brushed that moment of sincerity aside with nothing more than a straightening of his posture. “Obviously, we can’t tell them the truth, but we’re going to need to come up with a very convincing cover story.”

“Why do we need one?” Al asked.

Ed turned to scowl at him. “Haven’t you been listening, Al?”

Al shook his head, but not in answer to Ed’s question. “No, I mean… even if you take out the symbiotes, we don’t actually need to lie to make sure Tucker will get arrested. Especially not if- if Nina can’t be found.” He pointed out. Ed blinked, and reshuffled everything he knew about what Tucker had done to remove all the parts involving the symbiotes. He remembered the scene in the lab downstairs, and realised that Al was right.

“It’s a good idea.” Truth agreed. “It may even be useful.”

“Useful how?” Mustang challenged at once.

Truth grinned at him. To Mustang’s credit, his only reaction was a faint widening of his eyes and a tensing of his hands where they were laced together. “Those who do not know of us will assume Nina was destroyed in an attempt to create another talking chimera. Those who do will suspect that she became a host and ran off. If someone wants to look for her, then we will know that they know.”

Mustang inclined his head thoughtfully. “We will suspect, at the very least.” He hedged, but it was close enough to an agreement that Truth felt perfectly satisfied. “But that still leaves me with several questions.” He pointed out, lifting one hand to tick the points off on his fingers. “I will need somewhere the military won’t think to look for Nina to stay. I will need to dispose of the… remains of the other symbiotes downstairs. And, then, of course, I will need to find somewhere else for the two of you to stay.” He paused, eyes narrowing faintly, and then addressed Truth. “Do your people have any particular customs in regards to death rights and burial?”

Ed blinked. He hadn’t expected that level of respect, and going by how quietly floored Truth felt inside of him, still and shocked and aching in some indefinable way, neither had Truth. Then it was flooded with wry humour. “Thank you for that, Mustang.” It said wryly. “You may have less respect for our, as you call them, burial customs when you know what they are.”

Mustang raised his eyebrows, and opened his mouth to ask, but Ed, who was getting the thought-memory-knowledge directly from Truth’s mind, said very suddenly; “That’s disgusting.”

“What is?” Al pressed, while Mustang’s eyebrows just inched higher on his forehead.

“We eat our dead.” Truth informed them.

Al recoiled. “Oh.” He said, weak and wavering, looking nauseous.

“It’s not as if humans are strangers to cannibalism, either.” Mustang pointed out, although he didn’t sound entirely sanguine with the whole idea. Al pulled a face that very clearly said he didn’t want to accept that as truth, even if he knew it was.

“We begin and end our lives that way. It is fitting. Besides, it is not as if we decompose the same way your people do. Your cities would still be littered with our dead if we did not recycle them for you.” Truth pointed out, amused, but it was only on the surface. Underneath, there was an aching sense of loss and sorrow.

I’m really not okay with that, just so you know. Ed pointed out internally, not quite wanting to have this conversation out loud. But the idea of having to consume those things, knowing what they were, made him feel sick to his stomach. Isn’t there anything else we can do with them?

It would be an entirely avoidable waste. Truth retorted, with no small amount of disgust at the concept. They deserve more respect than that.

Eating them is respectful now?! Ed thought in disbelief.

More respectful than simply destroying them, rendering all of that substance and energy a pointless waste of resources. All living things consume and are consumed in their turn. To deny a creature their rightful place in that cycle is an abomination.

Ed’s guts squirmed unpleasantly. I take your point, I guess, but I don’t know if I can, okay?

He got the very distinct sense that if Truth had eyes, it would be rolling them at him. Coward.

Asshole. Ed retorted.

“It would make Ed less squeamish if you could burn them, Mustang.” Truth said, tone distinctly derisive. Ed mentally jabbed at it in retort. It jabbed him back, clearly unhappy with him.

Mustang looked between them thoughtfully, and leaned back in his chair. “I will, if that is what you’d prefer, but I wouldn’t want to interfere with your customs against your wishes.” He said coolly. “Perhaps…” He couldn’t quite keep the grimace off his face as he went on, but he did say it, which was more than Ed could ever have managed. “…perhaps one of the others could, if Elric is unwilling to participate?” He suggested, nodding towards Nina and Mania.

Ed’s stomach dropped like a lead weight at the thought of asking Nina to do something like that after everything. He shook his head violently over Truth’s Oh, I really like him and Nina’s quiet whimper and flinch.

“Fine, I’ll do it, just-” He swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat and glared at the table. “Just let’s not put Nina through that on top of everything else.”

Nina’s hand grabbed for his arm, gripping with the sort of strength that made Ed think it wasn’t just Nina doing the grabbing. “But we’re hungry.” She whispered. Ed was really starting to get creeped out by the plural pronouns she kept using. “We don’t want- But- Brother, we’re h-hungry.” Ed wanted to cry, wanted to rage and scream at Nina being reduced to this, having to deal with this. He half expected Truth to point out that she wouldn’t have to if Ed hadn’t been a bleeding heart and had just sent all the symbiotes to the Gate, but that thought came in his own voice, not Truth’s.

You were right. Truth told him, silently radiating a sense of regret and sorrow mingled with a strange sort of lightness Ed didn’t quite have a name for. I had gotten so used to the Gate being the only solution, I had begun to forget what we used to be. What we ought to be. What we, perhaps… could learn to be again. Ed buried his face in Nina’s hair, trying not to let himself get swept up in relief at the notion that maybe he hadn’t fucked up too badly in that one instance.

“Okay.” Ed whispered to Nina, because he was going to have to help her deal with this, with having a symbiote and that endless gnawing hunger. And he was going to have to… deal with the symbiote, too, a child who knew nothing but instincts to consume, and he was going to have to help Truth guide it to better practices than eating the brains of other sentient, living creatures. The fact that the idea of eating the baby symbiotes was profoundly disturbing to him was probably not something he ought to pass on to her, if Truth was right about how symbiotes usually behaved.

I wouldn’t lie about it. Truth protested, deeply offended by the very notion.

“If that’s all sorted, then?” Mustang prompted, looking between Ed, Nina, and Al pointedly. Ed nodded. “I’m going to call in reinforcements and arrange places to stay for everyone. You two-” He nodded towards Ed and Al. “-should see about bringing up the jars.” Which was a very good idea, in Ed’s opinion. It was one thing to get Nina to eat the corpses of her not-siblings, it was another to make her walk through the carnage in the lab to do it. “Try to avoid disturbing anything else, and please dispose of the jars once you’re done.” Mustang concluded his instructions.

They left Nina in the hall with Mustang while he rang his people, and set about bringing up the jars one armload at a time. Once they had them all laid out in the living room, Nina crept in to join them looking so damn broken, hollow eyed and pale and hunched in on herself, that Ed had to fight the urge to be sick. Is there any sort of… ceremony to this? He asked Truth.

Not particularly. Truth replied with a mental shrug.

That’s bullshit. Ed replied as he beckoned Nina over to sit with him and tucked her under his arm. “Okay.” Ed said again, and then reached out to the first jar and deactivated the array. Immediately, the eerie light faded, and the symbiote inside stopped twitching. It lay still, a puddle of lifeless matter at the bottom of the inner bulb. He unscrewed the lid and tipped it out into the palm of his hand. It was cold and slick, like holding a palm-full of jelly. He felt like he ought to say something, make this more of a memorial than a snack, but he couldn’t think of what to say.

Just eat it. Truth thought tiredly.

Ed raised his hand to his mouth and pushed the ball of alien viscera into his mouth. At least Truth had the courtesy to swallow for him, because he couldn’t have convinced himself to do it, or even worse, bitten into the thing. He opened the next jar, and, hating himself more with every passing second, tipped the thing inside into Nina’s shaking palm. “It’s kind of like swallowing a water balloon.” Ed told her.

Nina gave a startled, hysterical little giggle, all but threw the thing into her mouth, and then burst into tears. Ed tugged her closer, and wished he felt he could join her. Wordlessly, with tears streaking silently down his own cheeks, Al proffered up the next one.

#Fullmetal Alchemist #Venom AU #Edward Elric #Roy Mustang #alien symbiote #Truth #Nina Tucker #Alphonse Elric #I'm honestly having so much fun writing this #and traumatising everyone #Roy really just wants to go somewhere private and scream #but he can't #he has to be the responsible adult

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noraryker · 4 years

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BASICS

Name: Nora Ann Ryker

Gender & pronouns: Cis-Female, She/Her

Species: Human

Face: Amy Adams

Age: 39, October 29, 1980

PERSONALITY

Moral Alignment: True Neutral

Zodiac: Scorpio

Personality Traits:

Positive: Brave, Loyal, Determined, Passionate, Self-Reliant

Negative: Secretive, Judgmental, Cynical, Unforgiving, Obsessive

TV Tropes: Dark and Troubled Past, The Unfavorite, Amateur Sleuth, Bully Hunter, The "I Love You" Stigma, Always Save The Girl (family edition)

HISTORY - TW: underage drinking, underage sex, drug use, alcohol poisoning, self-destructive behavior,

There’s not a lot of things you could consider remarkable about Nora Ryker. Born the middle child in an upper-middle class family in Washington, she grew up comfortable - never wanting for food or clothing, but nonetheless dissatisfied. The middle child syndrome was strong in this one, as Nora often found herself fading into the background when compared to her older brother and younger sister. She received decent enough grades in the beginning, but not enough to compare with her younger sister's constant advanced classes. She might have placed silver at her district's cross-country running meets - but who would sit through that when her brother was going to state as star quarterback? Her parents loved her, they did, but between three kids and two full time jobs? They just didn't have time for the middle's tantrums. After a few years of struggling to make herself seen, Nora decided that if her parents weren't going to give her attention - she would find it elsewhere.

Nora was twelve when a sophomore gave her her first taste of beer at a joint middle-high school track meet; and despite the way it tasted, she liked the impressed looks on her classmates’ faces. She learned early that the more daring you were, the more attention others would give you - and Nora couldn't get enough. Choked down gulps of beer graduated into quick shots of vodka, with Nora clenching her eyes to get past the burn in her throat. Liquor turned to weed when she hit eighth grade, and losing her virginity followed shortly after. She barely remembered the act itself. but she remembered the greedy, almost desperate way that he touched her. For that brief (brief) moment, she was the most important thing in the world to someone, and she loved it. As her siblings continued to try and earn their parents love and approval, Nora made it her mission to earn their disapproval. Boy, did she earn it.

If it was offered, Nora tried it. Liquor, drugs, sex - even harmless petty crimes, she did it all. Had anyone asked what prompted this change, she wasn’t necessarily sure that she could explain. All Nora knew was that the older she got, the more that void in her chest became harder to fill. By the time her parents noticed the changes in their daughter, it was too late. She started to push it overboard, sleeping with anyone (even her sister's boyfriend), and injecting anything into her body. She even wound up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning a few times. Her parents didn't handle their middle daughter the best either; the sounds of their past screaming matches still coming to mind every now and again. Once desperate for their attention, Nora now felt suffocated by them now. The more they pushed, the more she acted out, and the fights didn't end when Nora left for college either. All it did was turn into constant texts and phone calls.

Forestry was supposed to be a throwaway major, something to get her degree in so her parents would stop threatening to cut her off. Her adviser suggested it because she had grown up camping in the mountains, and Nora’s lack of interest was starting to wear on her. What no one expected was that Nora would fall in love with her major. The core classes were a boring joke, but the trips out into the wilderness actually eased some of the hollowness in her chest. She became less concerned with trying to earn love, and more concerned with the preservation and maintenance of parks. Nora couldn't seem to graduate fast enough - with her overwhelming enthusiasm landing her an internship and then an eventual job with Mount Rainier's Park Service. She lost herself in those tall trees, going in one person and coming at another.

Truth be told, Nora doubts her life would have changed at all if it weren't for her niece showing up one day at her doorstep. Barely 16, Addison was all hard edges and secrets - filled with a type of emptiness that Nora recognized immediately. Of course, she was a little surprised by the arrival - Nora might have settled things with her sister over some past issues and visited every once in a while, but she'd never felt particularly close to her niece. Not initially. Still, she gave her a place to sleep, and a free meal whenever she wanted - without even batting an eye. Nora's sister seemed more than happy to leave her problem child with her problem sister.

With Addison, Nora understood that it wasn’t attention she was seeking but understanding. It’s what Nora had wanted in the end, after all. She never asked any prying questions, never stormed into Addison’s room to search for drugs, and most importantly - she didn’t demand answers to why Addison felt the way she did. Nora knew that it was a hard question. Truth be told, it was also nice having someone there to come home to as well. She was no longer the Nora fighting to find herself in other people, but every once in a while she’d still feel the barest traces of loneliness. She might not have sought to soothe herself with other people anymore, but it’d be a lie if she said having Addison around didn’t help her as well. The two of them formed an easy, silent companionship. Nora didn’t try to lock Addison down when she made the decision to leave, but a quiet part of her heart went with her.

Nora hasn’t let herself cry once about Addison’s disappearance - refusing to give in to despair. She can feel it flickering at the corners of her mind, but what good will crying do? Addison’s parents could spend their days praying for a savior and begging for their “baby girl” to come back, but Nora wasn’t just going to sit around. Nora was always one to act, and right now is no different. Her rougher edges might have smoothed out with time, but there’s still a hellion under her skin... and her trip to Blackrock isn’t going to be a short one.

CONNECTIONS:

*Note, Royan cannot think of any in-depth ones right now, so she's going to keep it short and sweet and just word vomit in a stream of consciousness. If you had plotted a connection with the previous Holly and would like to keep it, please hit me up! I am open for anything

Any original ideas! As stated above, I'm open for anything! Bring the pain! Bring the drama!

Roommates - She needs a place to stay. Motels are expensive and she knows she's going to be here a while so would anyone like to sublet to Nora? [OPEN]

Bully Hunter - Nora hates bullies. She may not be the warmest person in town but Nora came to the rescue of this person, stepping in when something was going wrong. [OPEN]

Coworkers - Luckily for Nora, being a former ranger has its perks in Blackrock. I was looking to have her transfer to this department to keep her money flow going so any other rangers, game warden, interns would be welcome connections [OPEN]

The Pack - This one is really open to anyone in the pack, esp folks that were close to Addison. Despite being far away, I like to think that Addison still kept in touch with her aunt. Nora's been her confidante for so long, so I want to say she would have known maybe one or two names? [OPEN]

Horny on Main - I have yet to be horny on main with either character, so if someone wants a one-night stand/sexual tension with Nora, I love it. Sex has always been a big distraction for her, so why the fuck not? Personally, though, I don't see Nora sleeping with anyone under 29-30 with light exceptions depending on the FC because some FCs just look too young for me to feel comfortable pairing with someone Nora/Amy Adams' age. [OPEN]

SUSPICION - This person just really causes all the warning bells in Nora's head to go off. They know more than they're telling her, she's certain, and she will get the truth from her even if it kills them her. [OPEN]

Short Connections I will keep adding to:

Drinking buddy.

Confidant - knows what she's going through and sympathizes with.

#SHIPPER #no graphic royan lazy

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salmonthestoryteller · 5 years

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All About Isobel

I’ll admit Isobel is my fav character. I honestly didn’t expect that to happen. She definitely wasn’t among my fav in the OG series, nor at the start of the book series. (Though, like RNM the book series version seems to be winning me over.) Somewhere along the line, though, I was like - yah, nope, everybody else move a slot down, Isobel is claiming my top character spot.

If there’s one thing I love about Isobel it is how important Max and Michael are to her. It seems to be why some people hate her. To me, though, it’s one of the reasons I adore her character. These are her brothers and if you hurt them she will end you. The world can freakin’ burn, she is going to protect these two with all she has in her.

It isn’t surprising either, and I want to back up and look at her backstory first, especially with everything we learned in the last two episodes of the season. So, yes, considering her plot involving both the Drifter and Noah, fair warning that some of the content may be triggering.

So there is at least two instances where Isobel is able to call out to Michael, one shared with Max, while completely unconscious. We know Max and Isobel have their twin connection which Max describes as a “warm presence” with him all the time. But the fact that she called to Michael twice shows that at some level she has to be telepathically connected to him as well.

They emerge from the pods at age seven, and are found by the highway. From there they end up in a group home. Now, to my understanding a group home is not a foster family. It is the modern day equivalent to an orphanage, with several adults looking after a group of children. From there they are adopted by the Evans almost right away. They still aren’t even speaking yet when they go with them. Max and their mother discuss the fact that it took them months to talk. And that when they did, they did so immediately with no trouble. As if they’d been waiting to learn the whole language before speaking.

Michael, as we know, is left behind and doesn’t return to their lives until they are eleven. However, Isobel probably could sense that he was missing the whole time. She couldn’t say who was missing, because they hadn’t had words or names when they were separated. She couldn’t say “Michael is missing” - she just knew someone was. This is probably where Isobel’s fear of losing those she cares about first stems from. An experience she couldn’t even fully explain at the time.

I have no doubt that when they found each other again at eleven, it was one of the best days of their lives to Isobel. Because, to her, Michael is her brother. There’s no ifs in that to Isobel. Michael says they aren’t family, Max tells Michael he isn’t his family in a moment of anger, but to Isobel the fact that Michael is her brother is indisputable. It’s plain fact. It’s there in the way she treats him, in how she is willing to rely on him and trust him, and even how she speaks. Not even the big statements like, “We’re a family.” In small ways like how she refers to Max in 1x03 as “Our brother.”

Fast forward a few years. (In 1x06 I thought it was their thirteenth birthday as it was 2004 and they are said to be 17 in 2008, but in 1x12 Max says Isobel was fourteen so I guess if their “birthday” was summer it's three years later?) It seems like - compared to Max - Michael protected Isobel much more from the abuse he was suffering. It doesn’t seem as if she has an understanding of just how bad things were. The look on her face when he tells her the story of always going to Foster Homestead Ranch and his reasons why are further proof. Isobel knew he wasn’t as lucky as them, but she was at a loss at how bad he truly had it. How alone he truly felt. Which I think was on purpose on Michael’s part. It’s also why she’s probably closer to their mother than Max was. She doesn’t seem to harbor the same resentment to their parents that Max felt for them not taking Michael in. I think she’s closer to Ann because when she thinks she’s dying she tells Max, “We should call Mom.” Not their parents. “Mom.”

However, Ann still says they both kept her at arms length to Max. That they, not him but they, didn’t let her be a mom. I don’t think this was true as much when they were younger. I’m guessing the separation for Isobel and Ann occured when Isobel hit puberty. Because - think about this for a moment - Isobel is an alien. She knows this. She knows she has powers others don’t. That her biology isn’t quite the same. (Acetone, hello.) And she had to go through puberty with not only no grown woman to talk to it about, but not even another girl her own age. She couldn’t ask her mom if certain things happening were normal or not - because there was no way of knowing what was alien “normal.” And if it turned out it wasn't human normal, and she brought it up she risked exposing them. Puberty is a pretty sucky thing already, and Isobel probably felt twice as isolated during it because she just damn didn’t know what was or wasn’t normal for their species. In that Max and Michael at least had each other. I doubt Isobel felt comfortable talking to her brothers about periods, cramps, etc.

And in the middle of this whole very isolating confusing time for her comes the Drifter. It’s pretty clear what his intentions were when he grabbed her, though it is not made clear how far he got. Isobel is still clothed, so I don’t think he raped her, but I have no doubt he touched her before Max and Michael got here. And remember something else - Isobel is a telepath. A telepath who they already knew could make others do things. If she at all tried to touch the Drifter’s mind there’s no saying what was said in Mindspace to her.

Worse, this is when her telepathic scream brings her to Noah’s attention. Between the Drifter’s attack and witnessing Max kill him, Isobel shuts down. The trauma is too much for her to handle, and she retreats inside her mind. Noah takes the opportunity to connect to her that night, and he never lets go of that connection until his death. Max said that she continued to have black outs after the attack, and Noah mentions how that allowed him to see through her eyes. How soon he was able to start to use her body to move around is unclear. And we are also unclear on what all influences Noah had on her otherwise.

Noah speaks of their connection several times. We know he can control her actions when she is unconscious or withdrawn into her mind, but how deep did that connection run? Max is concerned about Liz’s ability to consent when his mark is on her. Noah has had his mind connected to Isobel’s since she was fourteen. We cannot say how much that affected her - if she ever had complete autonomy after that night or if a part of her was always affected by Noah’s feelings and desires.

However, one thing is very much true - and that’s that after that night Isobel didn’t trust anyone who wasn’t Max or Michael for years. There was never a time when the people around her weren’t listed as “potentially dangerous”. We see that in how she reacts to everything, both in her teen years and even as an adult. She kept everyone else at arms length. Through barbs; through a mask of perfection. The reason Isobel didn’t care about using her powers as a teen?

Because as long as other people were doing what she wanted she was safe.

This is someone who never feels safe. Hasn’t been able to regain that feeling since that night in the desert. The only place she felt remotely at ease was around Max and MIchael. Isobel is clearly supposed to be the Queen Bee in high school, yet she goes to prom with her brothers. Why? Because Isobel didn't trust anyone else. It’s why she kept withdrawing into herself and having blackouts as graduation approached. If Max and Michael left - how was she ever going to feel safe? She had devoted her life to her brothers, because she knew she could trust them. They would protect her, no matter what. They’d already proven it. Everybody else was suspect.

Only now her brother were becoming suspect. If they were going to leave her to fend for herself, what did she have left? It’s clear from her lash out, “What am I supposed to do?” that Isobel had no plans right then for her future. She doesn’t know what she’s going to do once Michael and Max leave - she never once mentions college herself. And, actually, it seems her brothers have no idea either. During the argument all Max says is “Live your life.” There’s nothing there about anything Isobel might want or suggested she would do after graduation. If Max and Michael had this argument, that line would have involved, “What are you talking about? You’re leaving for Albuquerque/You’re running off to Europe.” For Isobel the best Max has to offer is “Live your life"?

This is actually where the fact that Roswell is supposed to be a small town probably plays a big part. Because Isobel is the only girl among the three aliens. It’s not surprising that in a small town Isobel’s lack of plans to go to college or pursue a career is never brought up. The notion of girls staying home with the parents, working local jobs or simply getting married is still quite common. From what we’ve seen, it’s actually what happens to Isobel after graduation, though that hasn’t completely been made clear yet.

One big thing did happen first, though. The murders. Things change that night for Isobel in a very big way. Until now Isobel has relied on her brother’s for protection. After the cover up Isobel finds herself in a new role - One of protector.

To her, Michael may have killed Rosa, Jasmin, and Kate - but he is very much not to blame for it. Think of the story Michael tells her. He got into a fight and his hand was smashed. He says he got drunk, but it's not like Michael could have gone to a hospital. What is the only painkiller they have? Acetone. To her, Michael was medicating himself because he had no way to receive the care he needed. Then, drunk on the acetone, he ran into the other car and lost control of his powers. He was drunk and in pain and alone and he lashed out to protect himself. She may believe Michael killed them, but she doesn’t blame him. If anything, she probably blames herself for blacking out and not being there when he needed her.

Then, a few days later, Max starts talking about telling Liz the truth. Think about what this looks like from Isobel’s perspective. Max is choosing some crush over Michael. Michael, who buried the Drifter for him and kept his secret all these years. He’s literally going to get Michael arrested, maybe even get them all killed if they find out what he is, because he cares about some girl more than their brother. Is it any wonder she decides to go into Liz’s mind and tell her to stay away from Max?

However, I feel it's hinted at that Max kinda broke down after Liz left. Isobel mentions something that sounds like a reference in a conversation with Michael in 1x02:

“Max is shutting me out. I thought maybe you could talk to him. Something is wrong with him, Michael. And when that happened the last time, you were the only one he would open up to.”

I think seeing how using her powers on Liz affected Max really drove home what her powers were capable of to Isobel. She’d never used her powers against her brothers in such a way. I don’t think she ever used her powers to negatively affect those she cared about. Others were free game, but anything that could hurt those she loved was off limits. And this is Max, her person as she calls him to Noah, and her using her powers has hurt him. She tells Michael, “I don’t do that anymore.” While it’s unclear when she stopped, my guess is that it was after she used them on Liz.

Then, while we can’t be certain how soon it happened, she met Noah. She probably felt an instant trust in him because - hello - Noah was in her literal head. She didn’t know why she felt safe with him, but he was the first person aside from Max and Michael who made her feel that way. So she dated him, fell in love, got married.

All of this is disturbing enough, because essentially Noah has been grooming Isobel since she was fourteen and then he seeks her out physically and marries her once he gets out of the pod. But what also bothers me is we don’t see any hint that Isobel is romantically with anyone else in the past. She teases Max about Tess, Michael mentions dates limiting options, but Isobel is not shown with anyone. The only feelings of desire Isobel experiences that we are shown is Noah’s for Rosa through her flashbacks, and her and Noah’s relationship. There is literally nobody else that is even mentioned. Every other character we get some mention of an ex or potential love interest, even Rosa. But Isobel has only Noah.

Over the same time period, she witnessed Max and Michael’s friendship fall apart with no idea why. She didn’t understand what was happening between them. This was her family and now they were barely speaking. She had her new position, though, and she wasn’t going to let them down. She was going to be the one who was strong; the one who protected them and looked after them. She devoted herself to that, and despite some bumps along the way, I don’t think she felt she failed at it. She never knew Max was unhappy - he didn’t seem to show that to her after he got his act together. She says as much to Noah in 1x03. She thought Michael let his life fall apart because he’d killed three girls and couldn’t forget. She tried to be there for him - she never cut him out of her life. She had no idea how to make things better, but she made sure she was there if he needed her. We know this because Noah doesn’t just list Max when Isobel says she had something to take care of - he lists Michael too.

Then Liz comes back into town, and everything changes. It’s little wonder she views Liz as a threat. Remember, Isobel never feels safe - everyone is a threat. Liz most of all - Max almost turned on Michael and her for Liz once before. Max was devastated after losing her the first time and now it's going to happen again. And while people like to say Isobel is overprotective and out of line for constantly lecturing Max about her - is she wrong? Liz is using Max’s feelings because she’s searching for the truth, Liz does want revenge for Rosa. Liz's history doesn't look like someone she would trust with her brother's happiness.

Isobel isn’t just using her powers for kicks. She goes after Liz to protect her family. She practices at Maria’s bar because she thinks she needs to strengthen her abilities. If she fails - how will she ever keep Michael safe now that Liz knows an alien killed Rosa? She isn’t thinking there’s some big secret to why Maria hates her - she probably thinks the reason is small and petty. She doesn’t know Maria. Then everything becomes strange - because why did Rosa hate her? Rosa was two years older than them - she was long gone from high school by the time Isobel would have been the head of Roswell High’s Mean Girls. It makes no sense - she almost never interacted with her. Why would someone hate her she didn’t even know?

It’s no wonder the “truth” about the murders affects Isobel so deeply. She’s spent ten years viewing the deaths as a terrible accident. Now they are murders - actual murders - that she herself committed. And she doesn’t know why. She does know that for some reason Rosa hated her. But Rosa, Kate, and Jasmin weren't even a blip on her radar before the murders. Why would she suddenly kill them? She's spent her whole life afraid of others and now she can't even trust herself.

Then the flashbacks start after the cure. She has no reason to doubt them - they're her own memories. What's more is that they probably make sense to her. There were probably days she was sick of the front she put on to keep others at a distance. And here are these flashbacks saying she let down that guard with someone - with Rosa. And it seems like it was a wonderful thing - Rosa didn't let her down. She was safe. Maybe she even loved her? It's everything teen Isobel always wanted. She and Michael discuss it:

"I used to look in the sky when we were kids, and hope something up there would save me."

"I used to look around at the people of this town and hope for the same thing."

She feels invested in this now. She had a close friend, the only truly close female friend she ever had as far as we see, maybe she even had a secret romance. Then she finds out the horrifying truth that it was never her at all. She never had that friendship, and what's worse? Noah used her to attack an innocent girl. Just like she was attacked when she was fourteen. Only Rosa didn't have Max and Michael to save her.

Isobel's face off with Noah is painful because it truly is the worst betrayal imaginable. Isobel doesn't let people close. Isobel doesn't trust. She did with Noah, when the truth is she never should have. He was the one she should have been protecting herself from.

I am glad they gave us her final Mindscape conversation with Noah. It may be a lie that she never loved him, but what truly mattered wasn't whether she loved him or not. What mattered was facing him and letting him know he no longer had control of her. She was done with him.

The season ends with Isobel exploding the picture frame with her mind. And while I'm excited to see her expand her powers, I am concerned for her in s2. The truth about Noah has already taken away one of her shelters. Losing Max? That is literally one of her greatest fears come to life.

In pursuit of feeling safe again - in protecting what she has left? There's really no saying what path Isobel might take.

#roswell new mexico #isobel evans #meta #headcanons #I have lots of Isobel feels #why can't you let izzy be happy

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hellyeahheroes · 5 years

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Building Virgil Hawkins in D&D

I need to distract myself from this X-Men melodrama shit so I’m doing another D&D build. This time how about we try to build one of Dwayne’s McDuffie’s greatest creation, electric nerd from Dakota, who may be known to you as Static or

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First, let us consider the goals of this build. We need to accurately reflect Virgil’s wide array of powers, including electric and magnetic abilities, some sort of healing and resistance to mind control and telepaths and few of Static’s iconic moves. And second, we need to get him his floating disc.

For Abilities, we will be using standard point array (15, 14, 13, 12, 10, 8). As always I follow some of the guidelines from Tulok the Barbarian who inspired the creation of these builds. If you want or your DM tells you to roll or use point buy, go ahead and use this is a guideline. Remember that even numbers are better. We will prioritize Intelligence, Virgil is a textbook superhero with a textbook in each hand. Constitution will follow as de facto one of the most important stats in the game, then Dexterity and Wisdom, our lowest stats being Charisma and Strength. The base should look like this STR: 8 CON: 14 DEX: 13 INT: 15 WIS: 12 CHA: 10

Now for D&D outdated term for species, Race. As a Boom Baby Virgil is a Human of the Variant kind. Variant Human gets +1 to two Ability scores, I suggest rounding up numbers for Intelligence and Dexterity. You also get a bonus skill, choose Acrobatics

Variant Humans also get a feat. We will pick Magic Initiate, letting us grab two Cantrips and one 1st level spell from Cleric spell list - we can cast Cantrips as much as we want but we can cast 1st level spell only once per long lest and only on the lowest level.

Sacred Flame forces a single target to make a Dexterity saving throw or take 1d8 radiant damage - this scales with your total level to 2d8 at 5th, 3d8 at 11th and 4d8 at 17th level - you can easily say it is one of Static’s bolts of electricity since radiant damage is basically light and light is s form of energy.

Speaking of which, our second Cantrip will be Light. Upon touching an object, not larger than 10 feet in any dimension, you make it emanate bright light in a 20-foot radius and dim light in the next 20 feet. It lasts for one hour, until you cast it again or take an action to dismiss it.

For 1st level spell, we will pick Cure Wounds, which allows us to regain 1d8+ your wisdom modifier of hit points. This is one way to give Static his, admittingly minor, healing powers.

For the Background, we will customize one. Pick up two skills - Perception and Athletics. The former is one of the most important skills in the game and the latter is only skill tied to Strength - meaning that if your DM asks to have you roll a Strength save or check you can likely argue it should be Athletics check instead. Take proficiency with Herbalism Kit to make yourself healing potions and a free language of your choice, pick something campaign relevant. And Watcher’s Eye feature from City Watch’s background, which allows you to recognize easier secret hideouts of local law enforcement and criminal organizations.

Now for the Class. While he received his powers through a freak accident, Virgil is known from his creative and intelligent approach to his abilities, he clearly studied them and related physics to do what he can do. As such, we will make him a Wizard. Besides, this is an RPG nerd, I bet you he played enough D&D to know Wizard is Tier 1 class across the editions.

We get proficiencies with daggers, darts, slings, light crossbows and quarterstaffs (which is close to a weapon Static used in one of the incarnations but useless for the build), Intelligence and Wisdom saving throws and two skills, pick Investigation and Arcana, which is closest D&D fantasy setting has to science.

Wizard’s main powers are spells. You get a spellbook to which you copy spells, each new spell copied takes 2 hours and costs 50 gp. Each day during long rest you choose which spells to prepare for next day, equal in number and level to the numbers show in Spell Slots Per Day part of Wizard table plus your Intelligence modifier. They cannot be of a higher level than that of which you have available spell slots. I see it as Virgil having a notebook to which he writes down his new ideas how to use his powers and keeping notes on how they work.

If a spell asks you to make an attack roll it is with your proficiency modifier + your Intelligence modifier. If it asks for a saving throw, the difficulty of the save is those two modifiers plus eight.

First, we learn Cantrips, small spells that Static can cas as many times as he wants. We start with 3 of them and my suggestions are:

Lightning Lure - the target must make a Strength saving throw of be pulled 10 feet towards you and take lightning damage - which scales up with your total level just like Sacred Flame above - if it ends 5 feet or less away from you.

Prestidigitation - just a number of minor utility effects that are fun to have and can easily be portrayed as you using your electric powers to make them happen.

Shocking Grasp - you make a melee attack, with an advantage if the target is wearing metal armor, on a hit you deal 18d lightning damage (see the mentions of scaling above, same deal here) and cannot take reactions until the start of its next turn. Virgil has a different name for it, obviously

We also start having six 1st-level spells in the Spellbook. I’ll list my suggestions and then will list spells for higher levels whenever you get new spell slots for it but remember, you can add any number of spells you come across as long as you have the money for it so if you see something that feels especially Static-like or just good to have, go ahead and get it.

Shield is cast as a reaction to upcoming attack or an enemy casting Magic Missle, it lasts one round and gives you +5 to Armor Class and protects from Magic Missle

Absorb Elements is also a reaction spell letting you gain resistance to upcoming damage of any elemental type, and then deliver 1d6 damage of that type to the first person who hits you. I see it as some of Static’s resistance to other electric powers.

Witch Bolt deals the target 1d12 lightning damage AND you can then stay and concentrate for up to one minute, to make it take another 1d12 damage on each turn as long as you won’t do anything else, target doesn’t move from the area or won’t hide behind a cover, making you lose the sight of it. And it scales if you cast it from a higher spell slot, adding extra d12 for a level.

Feather Fall lets you slow the fall of up to five targets for one minute, if they land in this time they take no damage and land on their feet. Explain it as Virgil using some of his magnetic powers.

Chromatic Orb is another offensive spell, it allows you to make a ranged spell attack for 3d8 (+1d8 for each additonal level of a slot from which you cast it) damage of chosen type. Since this is Static you’ll be likely choosing lightning or thunder or maybe fire (as with any spell dealing fire damage I’ll bring up, just say the target got burned by lightning) as lighting ball, but acid, cold and poison are also available in a pinch.

Mage Armor increases your armor class to 13 + your Dexterity modifier, which may go a long way since you do not wear armor. Write it off as Static wrapping his body in a protective magnetic forcefield. Also, it stacks with Shield since it changes how your AC functions and Shield is a bonus to your AC, just saying for incoming conflict with the DM.

EXTRA: Tenser's Floating Disk lets you create a disc that can follow you and carry up to 500 pounds of weight but you cannot ride it as it has no power to move on its own. It is a poor substitute for Static’s disc but if you have a generous DM you might talk about it and work something out, maybe agree to combine it with your flying spells. If not, ignore this bullet point

Finally, you get Arcane Recovery, allowing you to regain some of your expended spell slots every short rest. These spell slots cannot be of level higher than 6th and their combined level cannot be higher than half of your wizard level rounded up.

On 2nd level Wizard gets to choose Arcane Tradition and we’ll pick School of Theurgy. it allows us to choose one of the Cleric domains and gain a limited number of benefits from it. We will explain it as Virgil trying to study nature of his powers from all angles, both Arcane and the Divine since we’re treating magic as replacement science for this build. We will choose Tempest Domain. From now on you whenever you can advance in levels you can replace one of the spells in your spellbook with Cleric Domain spell of a level you have spell slots for. If one of the spells I suggested isn’t working out for you or you picked a spare spell to replace (or just stumbled across it because it is also a Wizard spell), grab Thunderwave - it forces every creature in 15-feet radius from you to make a Constitution saving throw or take 2d8 thunder damage and be pushed 10 feet away from you.

You also get Channel Arcana, allowing you to copy effects of Cleric Channel Divinity feature, you can do it once per short or long rest (twice from 6th level and three times from 18th) and choose one of two options. Destructive Wrath lets you not roll damage on a spell dealing lightning or thunder damage - you just declare it deals maximum damage. Divine Arcana lets you add +2 to an attack roll or saving throw difficulty of a next spell you cast if it requires one.

The third option is Turn Undead, which basically frightens undead creatures that see you - everyone must make a Wisdom saving throw at your spell save difficulty or be turned for 1 minute or until it takes damage. It forces them to spend its turn moving away from you, makes them unable to willingly move closer than 30 feet towards you and is prevented all actions or reactions other than dash to get out of what doesn’t let it move or dodge if it cannot move. I guess we all know now why Static wasn’t in Blackest Night as he would make Nekron and all Black Lanterns run back where they came from.

And 3rd level you get 2 2nd level spell slots so I think it’s time we get you your Static Cling. We will need two spells for it. Spider Climb is a concentration spell that allows you to walk on walls up for one hour. Hold Person forces a Wisdom Saving throw to a forced target, making it paralyzed as long as you maintain concentration, up to one minute, with additional saving throws at the end of each of its turns. If cast from a higher-level spell slot it can affect an extra target for each level.

On 4th level, you get an ability score improvement, boost your Intelligence. For your next 3rd level spell pick Levitate, it lets you make yourself or another target float in the air and control on what height it is. Living creatures can move with speed as if they were climbing. If your DM is generous, convince them to let you combine it into one spell with Tenser’s Floating Disc. If not, cas it at a metal disc tied to your feet and move with your other leg like a skateboard or just try other tricks to get that effect, something may get past the DM.

You also learn a new Cantrip, Booming Blade lets you make a weapon melee attack. On a hit, the target is coated energy until your next turn and if it willingly moves, it will take 1d8 Thunder Damage, scaling to 2d8 once you reach 5th level, 3d8 on 11th and 4d8 on 17th, from 5th level the attack itself also deals extra 1d8 lightning damage and an additional 1d8 from levels 11th and 17th

5th level Wizard learns two 3rd level spells and you get a 3rd one on 6th level.

Protection from Energy grants you or someone else up to 1 hour of resistance to the chosen type of damage and lighting and thunder are both on the list of options

Lightning Bolt lets you deal to each creatures in 100 feet long and 5 feet wide line 8d6 lightning damage (+1d6 for each additional level from which you cast the spell) and a half on a Dexterity saving throw.

Fly lets you give a target a flying speed of 60 feet for the duration but it is a concentration spell so be careful. Also, unlike Levitate if you are still in the air when it ends you fall on your face.

On 6th level, you also get your Arcane Tradition Feature. Arcane Acolyte lets you grab Tempest Cleric’s Wrath of the Storm, which you can use as a reaction when hit by a melee attack from a creature you can see to deal 2d8 lightning or thunder damage to it or half on a successful Dexterity saving throw.

On 7th and 8th Level you gain 1 4th level spell each.

Elemental Bane lets you remove resistance from a target that fails its constitution save and take additional 2d6 damage each time it is dealt damage of chosen type. It is sadly concentration so you may need to cooperate with someone else on it. Consider it for a Black Lightning team-up.

Storm Sphere creates a 20-foot radius sphere of whirring air that forces creatures inside to make a Strength saving throw or take 2d6 bludgeoning damage, turns area inside into difficult terrain and allows you to, while maintaining concentration on it, on each turn take a bonus action to make a ranged spell attack with an advantage against a target inside for 4d6 lightning damage.

On 8th level, you get an ability score improvement, but we will take a feat. Elemental Adept lets you ignore resistance to lightning damage and whenever you roll damage for them, you treat any 1 on the dice as a 2.

9th Level Wizard gets 5th level spells

We will grab one from Tempest Domain - Call Lightning. It works only outside and creates storm clouds above you in 60-foot radius, then choose a spot and made it hit by lightning, dealing 3d10 lightning damage to all creatures within 5 feet from that point, half on a successful DEX save. You can maintain concentration up to 10 minutes to make this continue and make another lighting strike on each of your turns. It deals extra 1d10 damage when cast from a higher level and an extra 1d10 if there was already stormy weather when you cast it. I’m sure there is a scientific explanation on Virgil suddenly stepping on Storm’s territory but I sucked at physics.

We also get an extra 4th Level Spell. Fire Shield surrounds your body in thin flames for 10 minutes, no concentration, that provide you light and either a) resistance to cold damage and 2d8 fire damage to a creature that hit you or b) resistance to fire damage and 2d8 cold damage. Explain it as Virgil using electricity and it burning whoever touched him.

10th Level wizard gets a new Cantrip and a new 5th Level Spell

Our Cantrip will be Mage Hand, it creates an invisible hand that can do minor things for you up to 30 feet away. It cannot attack or activate magic items or carry more than 10 pounds but it is a good way to show Virgil’s magnetic powers performing minor tasks.

Our 5th Level Spell is gonna be Wall of Force, it summons a, maintained by concentration up to 10 minutes, invisible wall through which nothing can pass, be it enemies, projectiles, spells or even ghosts (no, seriously) and it cannot be dispelled by Dispel Magic. The only way to destroy it is a Disintegrate spell.

On 10th level we get a new Arcane Tradition feature and School of Theurgy grants us Thunderous Strike from a Tempest Domain. Thunderous strike lets you push a Large or smaller creature up to 10 feet away from you whenever you deal it thunder or lightning damage.

11th Level Wizard opens for us 6th Level Spells. Chain Lighting hits a single target and then up to 3 other targets (+1 extra if you cast it from higher levels) within 30 feet from it and deals them 10d8 Lightning Damage, half on a successful Dexterity saving throw.

12th level wizard gets an Ability Score Improvement, cap your Intelligence as your most important stat.

13th Level Wizard gets 7th Level Spells. Forcecage traps creatures within 20 feet radius inside an invisible force-field that they cannot leave through nonmagical means, can’t be dispelled by Dispel Magic and traps even ghosts. It lasts up to 1 hour. Attempts at teleporting out of it are successful on Charisma saving throw so it’s a good thing we just maxed out our Save Difficulty.

14th Level gives us our last School of Theurgy Arcane Feature, Tempest Cleric’s Stormborn. You now have a flying speed equal your walking speed as long as you’re outside. Honestly, at this point, you can forgo other flying means and grab a disc and just say you use it to surf in the air, DM should understand.

15th Level means 8th Level Spells. Mind Blank for 24 hours, no concentration needed, gives immunity to psychic damage, sensing emotions, reading thoughts, frightened and charmed conditions through magical means and divination spells, even up to including freaking Wish. Cast one on you each morning to never fear you may get kidnapped and exposed to Anti-Life Equation

16th Level Wizard gets Ability Score Improvement, I suggest adding +2 to Constitution - many of your spells are concentration so you don’t want to blow that check and extra hit points (and remember, upgrading your Constitution grants you extra his points retroactively as well).

17th Level allows us to pick a 9th level spell. We will reach our last gift from Tempest Cleric - Destructive Wave. This spell deals every creature within a 30-foot radius from you 5d6 thunder damage and 5d6 radiant or necrotic damage or half of it on successful Dexterity saving throw. Amusingly enough it is a paladin spell that Cleric only gets as a bonus from Tempest Domain and we got it on a Wizard due to School of Theurgy. No one can say Virgil hasn’t studied his powers thoughtfully.

18th level grants us Spell Mastery, allowing us to pick a single 1st level spell and a single 2nd level spell. From now on when Virgil has them prepared he can cast them as Cantrips, as many times as he wants without spending a spell slot, but only at their lowest level, higher ones still require a spent spell slot. Don’t worry about your picks, if they don’t work changing them costs you only 8 hours of study.

We also get a 5th level spell slot and my recommendation is Hold Monster - it basically works like Hold Person but is not limited in who can it be used against. See it as Virgil improving his Static Cling power.

19th Level Wizard gets the last Ability Score Improvement but we will once again take a feat. Even better we will take the same feat as before - Elemental Adept, now granting its bonuses to another type of damage we’re dealing, thunder.

We get a new spell slot for 6th level spells. Globe of Invulnerability surrounds you with a 10-foot radius force field that can be upheld with Concentration up to 1 minute. No 5th level spell cast outside the globe can affect the area within it and vice-versa and this effect blocks one additional level of spells for each level of spell slot above 6th that you cast it from.

20th Level Wizard allows us to choose 3 3rd-level spells as Signature Spells. It basically works like Spell Mastery described above plus these spells are always prepared and do not count against our limit of spells prepared. They don’t even have to be spells we were discussing here, as that level has some fan-favorite utility spells like Counterspell, Dispel Magic or Haste.

We also get a new 7th level spell slot. Reverse Gravity causes everyone in a 50-foot radius to fly upwards for 100 feet and if they hit something on their way they take damage as if they feel on the ground from above.

And so we have it, Static as a 20th level Wizard. How playable it is? I mean, it’s a 20th level wizard, so a very much. You have several means to fly, can dish out a lot of damage and overcome resistance and have enough means to protect yourself and control the battlefield. On the downside you’re squishy and if Power Word: Kill won’t get you instantly, one or two hits should likely bring you down within the range. We didn’t cap Constitution which is means concentration is not as good as it should be, lack of armor and low Dexterity means we’re easy to hit and forces us to rely on all these protective spells and stay away from the first line. Finally, even with Elemental Adept Lightning and Thunder are things a lot of enemies will be resistant or even immune to. But unlike his comic book, D&D is a team effort so join forces with someone more durable, who can take a hit. And in a pinch remember you can pick up more spells than the ones I listed. Say what you want about him, but Static has shown he can think on his feet.

You have any suggestions or criticism about the build? Be sure to share them, And check out my previous Cassandra Cain and Nico Minoru builds.

- Admin

#Static #Static Shock #Virgil Hawkins #Milestone Media #Dungeons & Dragons #DC

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babylionmarvel · 5 years

Text

Soulmates

Authors Note: hello reader! I finally decided on publishing my stories somewhere. For the longest time I was insecure about my work and I still am actually, but at the same time I want people to notice my work and give me some tips on how to improve it. So please enjoy the following story, but beware it’s probably extremely cheesy, also my native language isn’t English, but I do try my best to avoid mistakes

Summary: When Loki finds a save haven on a planet where no one cares about his past, he doesn’t expect things to turn out even better. Or as good as the situation allows it.

Pairing: Loki x ValkyrieReader

Warnings: angst, fluff

Words: ~2120

MASTERLIST

At first, he had felt ridiculed. When he woke up, he was surrounded by garbage, garbage and even more garbage as far as he could see. Then he was attacked by savages. Luckily, he quickly managed the situation and got rid of the bad smelling creatures that tried to make him their next meal. He made his way over to the faraway buildings that promised at least a tiny chance of meeting a somewhat intelligent species. Once he reached the city, tired and dirty, he got chained up, even though he had made it clear, that he was the rightful king of Asgard. It did not took him long to realise that neither his title nor his name meant anything on this peculiar planet.

Soon, he felt happy. Thanks to his endless talents of speaking and persuading, it did not take him long to be in favour of the so-called Grandmaster. Sometimes he still thought about his brother, his home. But who was there to miss him? His beloved mother was gone and so was his father. His brother got other things on his mind and the Asgardian folk would not mourn him either. So why would he care? His future should be here on Sakaar, the place where all the lost things end up to find a new home. He felt more and more comfortable, he could be himself while no one cared about his past. No one even knew about the tragedy of Loki Odinson. It was a new beginning, his new beginning. And he would never let the chance to leave everything behind pass by.

On his third day on Sakaar, he was talking to another resident about the Grandmaster's collection of rare documents, when the Grandmaster himself walked up to him, with two fierce looking women by his side. “Ladies, this is our newest guest Loki, Master of Mischief. These are my most loyal warriors, they usually bring new guests to me as soon as they find them, but I guess you are good at sneaking around,” the Grandmaster chuckles, as the two women share a confused look behind his back. Loki looks at them, one even more beautiful than the other. He could see their strength and determination, but he knew that they once were lost and found just like him. Everyone on Sakaar shares the same trait. They all have a heart-breaking backstory.

As soon as the three of them walked away, Loki excused himself from the conversation, before it could start again. He hurried to his room, keeping his left arm pressed closely to his chest. He had always been good at hiding his true feelings. No one had noticed how much pain he had felt when he looked into the eyes of one of the women. In his room, he immediately gets rid of his clothing. Standing in front of a mirror, Loki eyes the black mark carved into the skin of his upper arm. The flesh surrounding the letters is bright red and sore, he does not dare touching it. Something had happened when their eyes met and he already had a suspicion on what it was. Yet, he did not want to believe it.

At the same time, the woman stumbles against a wall and falls to the floor, moaning in agony. The Grandmaster had just left her and her companion. “What is wrong?” Her friend is promptly kneeling by her side. “My skin feels like it's burning,” she answers through gritted teeth as she clutches to her leg. The warrior does not hesitate and pulls of her friend’s boot, revealing a black mark framed by sensitive red skin. One stares at her friend in horror, while the other cannot take her eyes of the fragile looking letters. “How? You...we can't receive this mark!” She loosens the grip around her ankle and gets off the floor. “Bryn, I-” “I told you not to call me this. We're better off when no one expects us to be alive,” her friend interrupts her furiously. The suddenly vulnerable looking woman slips her boot back on and rises off the floor as well. “It just appeared one day, I don’t even remember how many years ago,” she admits with a pained expression on her face.

From that moment on, she wanted to avoid Loki. But he still was the God of Mischief and if he wanted to meet her, he would. She was walking through the long corridors of the building when their paths crossed later that day. “I beg your pardon, but I don't think I picked up your name earlier,” he says with a charming smile and curious eyes. “You are right, I’m sorry,” she smiles at him, “my name is none of your business,” she coldly answers and turns around to leave, but he gets a hold of her arm. “Please,” he murmurs desperately and pulls her back slightly, forcing her to defend herself. She quickly turns around and slips out of his grip, exposing a tattoo on her forearm to him.

“This is not...this can’t be,” he mumbles staring at her skin. “You’re right, it can’t be,” she says bitterly and finally leaves him behind. The following days, she successfully avoids him. Even if this might only occurs because he is busy with his brother, who had suddenly arrived at Sarkaar. She thought everything was fine now, no matter if her mark still hurt when he was close or not. She thought she was safe, until a certain someone bursts into her room.

“The Grandmaster demands- oh please excuse me, I shouldn’t have barged in like this,” Loki turns away and hands her a towel as she still lays in the bathtub motionless and shocked. “What does the Grandmaster demand?” She asks surprisingly calm while she gets out of the water and wraps herself into the towel. “His champion was apparently kidnapped and now he wants us to search for him,” the raven-haired man explains, still trying not to look at her exposed body. She sighs and walks around him to the door. The pain on her ankle increases once Loki's gaze wanders across her mark. “Please, show it to me,” their eyes meet once again in an intensive stare. “You already know whose name is carved into my skin. Please leave now. Tell the Grandmaster I will meet him in a few minutes,” she opens the door and gestures Loki to leave.

The God of Mischief soon finds himself pacing the corridors next to the Grandmaster's favourite warrior. “Tell me what her name is. I need to know,” he begins a conversation. The woman shakes her head no. “It doesn't matter. The Codex of Valkyrie prohibits any romantically involvements. She knew this when she signed up for it hundreds of years ago,” she explains to him, annoyance clearly swinging by in her voice. “So, you’re a Valkyrie too,” he expresses rather bland, “I thought you all died gruesome deaths.” He shrugs, unprepared for the Valkyrie's sudden movements, knocking him out coldly.

She had a certain suspicion the whole time but she did not expect her friend to act up with them. Why would anyone want to flee from their peaceful life on Sakaar just to find death on Asgard? The female warrior still took care of the rebels. In a good way, not the way the Grandmaster had ordered her too. They were on their way to take one of the ships, when she saw someone laying on the ground motionless. “Loki!” She realized and freed him from the pain of being electrified. “My name sounds good on your lips,” was the first thing he expressed afterwards. “We need to take care of your bitch of a sister, come on,” she had helped him of the floor and entered the Grandmaster's biggest ship.

Once the ship had left Sakaar and was flying through space stable and safe, she left the control room and searched for Loki. He peaked over his shoulder when the door to his chamber was opened and calmly placed his focus back onto the weapons in front of him. “Show it to me,” she asks quietly and steps closer to him. His clothes vanish as he places the dagger in his hands on the table in front of him. Goosebumps cover his exposed body, when her fingertips touch the letters on the back of his arm. The burning pain on his skin immediately stops and is switched by a tingling sensation throughout his whole body.

(Y/N) the northern letters read. “I haven't heard that name in hundreds of years,” she confesses as she places her other hand on the soft skin of his back. His slim body looks flawless in the dimmed light of his room. He shivers at her touch but still does not turn around. Instead he enjoys her fingertips drawing patterns on his fair skin, his back muscles relaxing one by one. “Loki,” she mutters more to herself than to him, knowing that their destination grows closer with each passing second. “(Y/N),” her name is a well-known melody leaving his lips and tongue. When he was a child, he would repeat it countless times, wanting to be prepared when he would finally meet her.

“We will die fighting her,” (Y/N) expresses dully and removes her fingers from his soft skin, taking a step away from him. Loki immediately feels the warmth of her touch leaving, as the cold creeps up his back again. He turns around to finally face her, the woman whose name appeared on his skin right after birth. His soulmate. “We can still turn around and go back to Sakaar,” he suggests, even though the words leave a bitter taste in his mouth. She shakes her head and looks to the ground. “I was destined to die in the first fight, I knew that she would come back one day,” she exclaims bitterly. Loki places his hands on her cheeks and raises her chin to meet her gaze. “This is not true. All of this was my father's fault in the first place. He sacrifices you to deal with his mistake,” he declares, anger crossing his face.

“Uh, not to interrupt you or anything, just continue staring at each other, but I’m afraid we arrive at this Ass-Court soon,” Korg explains as he boldly stands in the doorframe. “For the last time, it's called Asgard!” Loki rolls his eyes, not taking his hands of her cheeks. “Thank you, Korg. Please get the others ready for the fight,” (Y/N) smiles at the man made of stone over her shoulder. The door closes behind her and she looks back up into the Asgardians green eyes. Loki lets out a deep breath and smiles at her with an utterly heartbroken expression in his eyes. “I never have...I mean I haven’t...” Elia stumbles upon her words, when Loki leans in to meet her lips with his. He shows her a genuine smile, before he presses his lips to her forehead instead.

With a flip of his hand, Loki is fully dressed in his armour and ready to fight, while he clothes her in the typical grey and gold armour of the Valkyries. They share a meaningful look before vanishing in the fight. (Y/N) fights and slays Hela's knights until all movement stops as the Goddess of Death herself appears in front of them. The warrior nearly cannot contain her anger and hate towards the monstrous woman but she tries to stay hidden, increasing her chances of staying alive. At least for now. The speech is over and the fight rekindles once again.

Before entering the rescue ship, (Y/N) spots Loki flying into the palace. Soon after, Asgard disappears into the internal flame and Suturs rage. She quietly withdraws into Loki's former chamber to mourn, while his brother Thor gets crowned as Asgards new king. Silent tears run down her face as she strips off her bloodied armour of her hurting body piece by piece. She doesn't even notice the figure appearing behind her in the barely lit room. “You fought bravely, Valkyrie,” the voice startles her. When she spins around and sees his smile, she can not help but wrap her arms around him tightly. “You are alive,” she gasps breathlessly. “I did not wait for you for more than 1500 years just to die right after finding you, did I?” He grins cheekily and places another kiss on her forehead. “Come on, get your clothes, we're going to leave,” he says and gives her more space to gather her belongings. And so, they fly through the realms in the Grandmaster's party ship and look for a private place to settle down.

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acesmildfics-blog · 5 years

Text

It’s Raining.

For the first time ever, Kris is anxious to get to school. They’re excited to get back to the Dark World. They may have managed to seal the fountain, but there’s a lot more to do. They’re not sure exactly what, but they’re sure Ralsei will let them know what’s next on the to-do list.

They decide to walk to school, leaving a half hour ahead of schedule, hoping that Susie has the same idea. It was pouring a little earlier, but now it’s slowed to a drizzle. Kris doesn’t care if they get a little damp.

In front of Catti’s house, they run into a familiar face.

It’s the witch, holding a clear umbrella and staring into a huge puddle. She looks significantly more put-together than the last time Kris saw them. She’s wearing real pants and everything. Her pink hair is pulled into a pair of tight buns on top of her head. It takes her a moment, but she finally notices Kris staring at her, and smiles at them. “‘Mornin.”

Kris says nothing.

The witch walks over to them. “Woah, hey...no umbrella? Or do you want to get soaked?” she looks them up and down with a questioning expression, then shrugs. She holds the umbrella so that they’re both half under it. “C’mon kid. Walk with me. We’re going in the same direction, anyway.”

They walk in silence for a block or so, until they get to the corner with the grocery store. There, waiting under the awning, is a little skeleton in a striped shirt. Kris remembers talking to Sans yesterday, and figures this must be the little brother he mentioned.

The second he sees the witch, his face breaks into a bright smile - even though it was technically already a smile, what with the lack of lips and all.

“LEVIE!” he yells as he breaks into a sprint. The witch quickly hands Kris her umbrella before opening her arms.

He barrels into her, and she lifts him into a spinning hug. Once she puts him back on the ground, she uses her sleeve to wipe away the rain collecting on top of his skull. “How’s my baby bones?”

He clings to her shirt and looks up at her. Somehow, there are tears in his eyes. “I HAVEN’T SEEN YOU IN FOREVER!”

The witch chuckles, “pretty sure it’s only been a couple of days.”

He takes half a step back and stomps his foot, “BUT I USED TO SEE YOU EVERY DAY! EVERY TWO DAYS IS UNACCEss...UNACCEpter...NOT GOOD ENOUGH!”

She sighs. “Sorry, kiddo...things are a little different now.”

“I KNOW…” the little skeleton seems to notice Kris for the first time, and shifts to stand behind the witch, half-hidden but clearly staring. “IS THAT ANOTHER HUMAN?” he whisper-yells, plenty loud enough for Kris to hear.

“Sure is. Papyrus, this is Kris, a new friend of mine. Kris, this is Papyrus.”

They stare at each other, neither moving an inch.

“...Come on, you two. Papyrus, I know your manners are better than this.”

“SORRY, LEVIE…” he moves slowly out from behind her and offers his hand for Kris to shake. “IT IS NICE TO MEET YOU, HUMAN.”

“‘Human’ isn’t their name,” the witch chides.

“...IT’S NICE TO MEET YOU...KRIS.”

Kris switches the umbrella to their other hand so they can shake Papyrus’s. The little skeleton and the witch both look pleased by this. The witch takes her umbrella back, and the odd trio continues walking towards the school.

When they reach the school, Kris is surprised to see Father Alvin standing just inside. He’d probably be waiting outside, if not for the rain. He doesn’t look happy to see them...or the witch, either.

Based on the witch’s expression, the feeling is mutual. She pats Papyrus on the head, “okedoke, kiddo...you head on in. Old Al...uh...Father Alvin’s waiting for you.”

He turns around and wraps his gangly, boney arms around her. “I LOVE YOU, LEVIE!”

She smiles at him fondly, and leans down to press a kiss to his forehead. “I love you too, baby bones. With my whole heart.”

He gasps, “NO! YOU CAN’T!”

The witch gives him a puzzled look.

“NOT WITH YOUR WHOLE HEART! THAT’S NOT FAIR! YOU GOTTA SAVE HALF OF IT FOR SANS, OKEDOKE?”

The witch’s face flushes, and she darts a look at Kris, who honestly couldn’t care less. “S-sure, baby. You got it. Go on, now.”

Appeased, Papyrus rushes into the school building, greeting Father Alvin enthusiastically before rushing off to his classroom. Kris is a bit surprised to see him head in the direction of their mother’s classroom. They thought he looked a bit older, but then again, it’s pretty impossible to guess a monster’s age when they all look so different.

Before Kris has the chance to follow, Father Alvin comes out into the rain. He crosses his arms and fixes the witch with a cold glare. He opens his mouth, but she doesn’t give him the chance to speak.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ve heard your spiel before. You feel it’s inappropriate for a human - specifically me - to be associating with a monster - specifically him. Here’s the thing, though...that job the mayor so generously offered makes it impossible for him to walk his little brother to school.”

The elderly turtle clicks his beak in derision. “Are you suggesting that he might run into trouble on the way? I assure you, Hometown is perfectly safe for monsters. Your experiences are not universal.”

“Relax, old timer. I’m not saying the town is dangerous, I’m saying the little guy has trouble staying focused. He’s likely to get distracted and wind up late for class. Can’t have that, now can we?” She asks, with narrowed eyes. “So, here I am. Helping out. What was it you used to say? One good deed a day…?”

He doesn’t respond, instead turning his attention to Kris. “Welcome, Kris. It’s good to see you here bright and early! Though, it’s also...unusual. Why, your mother isn’t even here yet! Perhaps you’ve come to get a head-start on your studies?” he chuckles, as if he doesn’t quite believe it could be true. It’s not, but it still gets on Kris’s nerves a little. He walks back through the doors, presumably to make sure Papyrus made it to his classroom without getting distracted.

As Kris follows him, the witch speaks up.

“Oh, hey, before you go, Kris...A little advice from a pro. It might be unsolicited, but hey, it’s free.” Kris turns back to face her. “Now that you’ve opened the door, it can appear anywhere. So, uh...be real careful about all these puddles, okay?” Kris nods, their concern over the closet not opening fading away. “See ya, kid. Good luck.”

Father Alvin is still watching as the witch leaves, muttering to himself. “Honestly, I don’t understand why those brothers continue to associate with her…”

He catches Kris by the shoulder as they walk by. “Kris. I’ll tell you the same thing I told Sans. Ms. Rothschild is a dangerous individual. She cannot be trusted.”

*Because she’s human?

He shakes his head. “Certainly not. If it were because of her race, I would also be wary of you, would I not? No, there is something far more sinister about her than perhaps you realize, child.”

*Because she’s a witch?

He looks surprised. “You know she’s a mage, then? Well...to answer your question, yes. Her magic is what makes her dangerous. Humans were not meant to wield magic. She may think she knows what she’s doing, but no human will ever be able to truly understand the power of magic.” The old turtle takes a deep breath. “Kris. Listen to my words: Do not think that you are safe just because you and she are the same species. Levi Rothschild does not belong among monsters, nor does she belong among humans. She is best left alone. Do you understand?”

Kris does nothing, which Father Alvin mistakes as an act of agreement.

“Good. Now, get to class. I need to go check on that young lad…”

Kris stares after Father Alvin as he makes his way to the children’s classroom. They aren’t especially moved. Kris just needs her to upgrade his gear - no trust necessary. Their relationship is strictly business. Still, she seems fine. Helpful, clearly close with that skeleton kid...she doesn’t seem scary.

But then again, they don’t really know much about her, do they?

#The Witch #Deltarune #part two of that thing I said I wasn't gonna keep writing #babybones #this one has Papyrus in it!#because who doesn't love teeny tiny Papyrus?

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distractedhistotech · 5 years

Text

Before MSA + 1: Lessons

Vivi had been learning about various religions since she was a kid. It came with having a theology professor for a father. She didn’t really bother to sit in on lessons much anymore, but she was curious about Arthur Kingsman and wanted to see how he’d react to the lessons.

His reactions were…honestly a bit concerning.

“I’m confused. Isn’t Christianity the one true religion?” asked Arthur.

Vivi tried very hard not to stare. Was-was he serious?

“Do you mean Catholicism, Baptism, Methodist, Protestant, or Lutheran?” countered Hiro.

Arthur blinked. “Uh, are those all different names for Christianity?”

“They are all different types of Christianity,” explained Hiro. “They all have different ideas as to how the scriptures are to be interpreted and how to practice their faith. No proof exists as to which is the ‘correct’ version.”

Arthur blinked. “The oldest?”

“That would be Roman Catholicism for simplicity’s sake.” Yeah, it was probably too soon to talk about The Gathering. “You don’t practice Catholicism. Your community did not practice Catholicism.” Hiro crossed his arms. “In fact, I’d say your elders were trying to come up with a new form of Christianity based on whatever occurred to them.”

Oh crap. Arthur was raised by a cult, wasn’t he?

“God told The Prophet that humanity was corrupting his followers so we had to isolate the true believers to keep them pure,” explained Arthur.

Yeah, definitely a cult.

“Wouldn’t God rather have his prophet spread his word to the masses and save those who were simply misled?” countered Hiro. “That is the standard pattern in the Bible, often with the prophets suffering to fulfill their goal. Yet, there are also signs of divine favor being placed upon them. A sort of combined blessing and test to see if they were worthy. Was your prophet ever visibly tested? Did he ever show any signs of powers that could not be explained logically or scientifically?”

Arthur opened his mouth, paused, and went still. “He, uh, he got arrested a couple of times for…stuff?”

“It couldn’t have been his religion,” reasoned Hiro. “We have a separation of church and state, and the Constitution allows for religious freedom. You could say that you believed a flying spaghetti monster created the universe and that pirates are his chosen prophets; it would be completely legal.”

Arthur made a face. “Who would believe that?”

“The Church of the Flying Spaghetti is just a bunch of people who make fun of people who think if schools are going to teach people about evolution, they should teach about intelligent design too,” Vivi provided helpfully.

Arthur blinked. “I have no idea what you just said.”

“The Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster is a fake religion that acknowledges that it is fake,” explained Hiro. “Evolution is the very long process of one species becoming another over generations of random, favorable mutations adding up. It takes thousands of years so no one has actually witnessed it happening, and scientists rely on the fossil record to support the theory and determine what species evolved from previously. Intelligent design is the theory that God or a similar entity created the various species on the planet with a plan in mind for each one.” Hiro paused. “Out of curiosity if you had to choose between evolution and intelligent design, which would you believe in?”

“Intelligent design,” said Arthur.

Oh, this poor boy.

“Do you know how dog breeds work?” asked Hiro.

Arthur blinked in surprise at the sudden change in topic. “Uh, they only breed dogs with the traits they want?”

Hiro nodded. “And eventually the traits make them a distinct breed, a sort of artificial evolution. Now, what if a higher power, one that could live for millenia, did that with the species on Earth to make us along with all the animals we are familiar with?”

And now Arthur looked like his mind had been blown. “Is that what happened?”

Hiro shrugged. “I have no idea. These are all theories that cannot be proven unless someone figures out time travel.”

“…I’m so confused,” Arthur finally said.

Hiro nodded. “Religion is confusing. We wouldn’t have so many wars over it if it was clear cut. It’s really too bad.”

“Hey, uh, maybe we should end for today,” suggested Vivi. “It kind of looks like Arthur’s brain is about to explode.”

Hiro studied Arthur and decided Vivi was right. “All right. I do believe that is enough for the first day.” He pushed a book over to Arthur. “Your homework is to read the chapter detailing the different ways Christianity is practiced around the world. If you feel up to it, perhaps read the chapters on Judaism and Islam.” Hiro paused. “And if it is possible, try to find out why your prophet was arrested. It’s always a good idea to verify another person’s claims if possible.”

Vivi nodded. “Yeah, you’d be surprised what some people will lie about.”

Arthur looked like he wanted to argue about something but instead picked up the book. “Yes sir.”

Hiro nodded and checked his watch. “Now, your uncle should be here momentarily, and I have papers that I need to grade. Would you be all right left alone with Vivi and Ben?”

Arthur gave Hiro a shocked look. “But she’s a girl!”

“Hey!” What the heck was that supposed to mean?!

“Please explain to Vivi and me why that is a problem,” Hiro patiently requested.

“It’s improper for a boy and girl to be left alone unless they’re close relatives,” answered Arthur.

Oh, ugh, that was another cult thing, wasn’t it?

“You won’t be alone. Ben will be here to keep an eye on you,” said Hiro.

Said dog was sleeping between Vivi and Arthur and showed no signs that he’d paid any attention to the lesson.

“Besides, most people honestly don’t care if boys and girls spend time together,” continued Hiro. “Why I see it all the time, and it never causes any problems.”

Arthur looked between Hiro and Vivi. “Um…”

“If it would make you more comfortable, Vivi can find something else to do,” said Hiro. “However, I think it would do you some good to interact with children closer to your own age. You will be starting school within a few months after all.”

Arthur winced. “Y-Yes sir.”

Hiro smiled, because while it was small, it was still a step in the right direction. “Good. Come fetch me if your uncle wants to have a word, but otherwise I wish you a pleasant rest of the day.”

And then Hiro left and Vivi was alone with Arthur. That had been what she wanted so she could talk to Arthur, but well…she wasn’t sure she should. The poor boy kind of reminded her of the abused puppies shown in ASCPA commercials, like, like…

Like no one had ever loved or cared for him and he didn’t know how to react when someone did.

“Wanna pet Ben?” asked Vivi.

Arthur blinked. “Huh?”

Vivi started petting Ben. His tail wagged. “He likes to be pet, and it makes you feel better. Try it.”

Arthur hesitantly placed a hand between Ben’s ears and started scratching. Ben moved his head and licked Arthur’s other hand, causing him to jump a little. When Ben failed to do anything else Arthur returned to giving the happy dog scratches.

“It’s nice, right?” asked Vivi.

Arthur nodded. It was oddly relaxing. After a little while, Ben lifted his head and looked towards the door. A moment later there was a knock, and Lance opened the door. He studied them for a moment. “You ready to go?”

Arthur quickly grabbed the books and stood. “Yes sir!” He quickly walked over to the door.

“Bye Arthur! See you soon!” called Vivi.

Arthur winced but stayed silent as he and Lance went to Lance’s truck. He glanced as Lance started it up and waited for Lance to say something about what he’d walked in on.

“So, you like dogs?” asked Lance.

“I, uh, maybe? We didn’t have dogs. We were forbidden from having pets,” explained Arthur.

Lance rolled his eyes. “Figures. Seemed comfortable with that dog. What’s his name again?”

“Ben.”

“Ben’s a pretty big dog. I imagine you’d have been panickin’ if you didn’t at least like dogs,” continued Lance.

Arthur nodded nervously.

“Now, I would not have a problem if you got a smaller pet, but our apartment is probably too small for a dog, ‘specially one that big.”

What.

“And if you never had a pet before, you ought to start small. Maybe a gerbil or a hamster.”

“Are you offering to get me a pet?” Arthur questioned is disbelief.

Lance made a thinking sound. “Maybe once you settle down a bit more. A pet is a lot of responsibility, and right now you oughta focus on learning to live in…the outside world.” Lance had wanted to say the ‘real world’, but he thought Arthur might take offense.

Arthur was still surprised. “And you’re all right with that?”

Lance shrugged. “I sometimes consider getting somethin’ myself. Then I remember how busy I am,” he muttered. “Wouldn’t know what to get either. Not exactly the most…social person.”

Arthur nodded. He didn’t have many social skills either. It was different from Lance though. Whereas Lance just seemed to be stoic and blunt, Arthur worried about what everyone would think about him if he did even one thing wrong.

He was pretty sure he was doing a lot of things wrong.

…

Arthur wondered if he’d ever get the hang of this new life.

#Arthur Kingsman #Vivi Yukino #Mr. Yukino #Mystery the not-Dog #Lance Kingsman #religion #lessons #talk of cults #Arthur's had a messed up life

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beckytailweaver · 6 years

Text

Werewolf and Xolo puppy...part 1..?

It is a huge plot bunny. And I apologize for this.

Due to WerewolfAU Miguel & Héctor. I really couldn't help it. I hope no one minds! It’s not even really fic...

So, were-xolo Miguel and werewolf Héctor. Héctor could be awesome as a trickster were-coyote indeed, but there is an excellent subspecies if he is to remain in Canis lupus with the Xolo: a Mexican wolf. (Mexican Wolf and Coyote: Know the Difference!) Thoughts?

Starting at the beginning, let's take it up to eleven: Some urban fantasy, some magical realism, and a little buffet of all kinds of different legends and canons. The Rivera family were shoemakers. With a musician or two thrown in for charm. These days, though, they're werewolf hunters.

A long time ago, Mamá Imelda made shoes while her husband played music and her daughter danced. They were comfortable and happy. But one night, during the full moon, her husband was killed by a werewolf while coming home from a short musical tour with his friend Ernesto de la Cruz.

Ernesto barely escaped with his life, to bring Imelda the news. When she heard, Imelda set aside her shoes to learn how to kill werewolves, to avenge her husband and to eliminate any monsters who might be a threat to her daughter and her village. She taught this knowledge to all in her family after her, and while Riveras still make excellent shoes as their day job, by night they hunt their sworn enemy. (Cue origin story dramatic soundtrack crescendo.)

Music isn't as explicitly banned as it is in canon, but it's still actively discouraged. Riveras don't have time for this frivolous noise that’ll just attract monsters, and wandering around for music is what got Imelda's husband killed! None of her children will be lost to something so stupid.

(The irony here is that this time, Héctor is on the ofrenda, even if it’s grudgingly. But it would be much easier for him to come home if he was dead.)

Tio Ernesto is known and respected as a friend of the family, but he’s a famous musician and he doesn't visit very often at all (once a decade or so, very perfunctory). He was too busy traveling all over Mexico playing songs (in his best friend's memory, he claimed, but somehow that never came up in albums or interviews), and Riveras don't do music. He's retired now but, privately afraid of being forgotten by the younger generations of music fans, he never misses a chance to promote his old albums or do an interview for a big show. He's in remarkably good shape for an octogenarian.

Basics. In this universe, monsters aren't complete fantasy, but by the time the modern era rolls around they've been controlled enough by military, police, and hunters that few civilians see them. Most people see them kind of like human criminals, or nuisance animals. They're "out there," and if you wander around dark alleys and forests at night you might disappear, but it's not a zombie apocalypse of constant horror. Once in a while there's a news story, or a species of monster is on display at a zoo briefly, or you hear of a friend's wife's cousin who got eaten one night.

(Many monsters are actually just people minding their own business who happen to look a little different or have specific dietary requirements, but they keep to themselves so all most people ever hear is the bad tales and the news reports of another death.)

This Rivera family tree is arranged a little differently and the ages might be a little more compressed. Coco and Elena are Imelda's daughters; Elena was born after Imelda's husband was killed so she never met him. She is the fiercest in her dislike for werewolves (and lazy, careless musicians).

Coco and Julio are parents to Victoria and Enrique (I don't know how they got all the tall kids okay); Elena and Franco are parents to Berto and Gloria. Enrique and Berto have all their kids as in canon.

Oscar and Felipe are still Imelda's younger twin brothers, and though they're slowing down in their old age they're generally in charge of inventing and improving nifty new gadgets like repeater crossbows and silver grenades; they are teaching this craft to Abel.

Victoria and Gloria are both the single aunts, best friends growing up, and really like to collaborate on ammo projects that make monsters go boom; Rosa is learning from them.

Tia Rosita, Julio's sister, is very good at crafting light armor; Julio is best with heavy. Berto works with specialty shotguns and Enrique is an expert rifle marksman. (Or, you know, skills can vary as needs might. Suggestions?)

Mamá Imelda has been sidelined by old age so she can no longer participate in active hunts, but nothing stops her from picking up a weapon if she feels her home is threatened. She is still the head of the family when it comes to command decisions.

Benny and Manny are just plain too little for hunting, and are kept safely under close watch in the Rivera family home. The grandmothers who don't hunt are usually caring for them, which often means it's Imelda. (She cannot be fooled by twin shenanigans; she had to look after her brothers once too.)

Elena is leading the charge any chance she gets, despite her age, which worries her husband and family (but she loves her family as fiercely as she fights, which is why she refuses to fail). Coco is more than happy to step down once she's "retired," and spends a lot of time making shoes rather than weapons, and looking after the little ones. She remembers her Papá fondly.

Miguel...precious little musical dreamer Miguel...he spends a lot of time with his Abuelita Coco, and she adores him. With his sweet grin and heart for music, it's almost like her Papá has come back to her. She hums to him in secret, and encourages him to explore interests other than shoes and werewolf hunting. Miguel loves music even if it's their little secret, and there's something in his eyes just like she remembers, something that wants to chase the wind and sing out to the world, and Coco knows Miguel is special. Just like Papá.

Werewolves. This variety is a little more magical than is found in a lot of modern fiction. They're not gigantic and terrifying; the body doesn't actually change size that much, just some shape and locomotion. They age much more slowly than humans and are pretty much immortal, barring silver weapons, decapitation, or rather thorough dismemberment. They can still get sick or injured, but are very unlikely to die from average things (injuries and discomforts still hurt though; they feel cold, they get bruises, they bleed, they can have allergies or need glasses). It might take one of them a long time to die of old age, but that's the only other thing that can kill them. (It's like the curse was made to turn humans into something almost fey but not quite, but no one knows for sure how it originated.)

And they're not all wolves. It's more the were than the wolf! And not everyone gets turned by a bite. Some of the weres are "venomous" and can pass on the "disease/curse," most of these are ones that were turned by a bite themselves and so the "curse” is thicker in them. Many of these are pretty insane or can't remember what they do during the full moon; they're the ones who attack indiscriminately and give the rest a bad name. The human mind breaks because of the fear and stress and venom, and aggressive self-defense instinct takes over; these are the easiest to find and hunt because they just rampage against any "threat" that moves, like a rabid animal.

There are others, sometimes known as latent werewolves (again, not all are wolves). If a bitten were manages to keep it together long enough to bear or sire a child, that offspring has a strong chance of being a werewolf themselves. But because they're born to it, they don't go insane (or not as insane, especially if they have a supportive family or other experienced weres to learn from). Some of these will turn out okay, and can go on to have children of their own; further generations have much less chance of turning out actual werewolves, which is where the latent part comes in.

Enough generations down, and the were-genes aren't activated. They're just kind of sitting there, disconnected, with no inputs. Some people may never even realize they have these genes, and dormant vs latent will also skip some generations, to the point where some family members are "susceptible" and others aren't.

"Susceptible" means they have to be exposed to a compatible animal in a few certain ways during a full moon, which means it doesn't happen terribly often but still does now and then. At this point the latent disconnected were genes go aha! a template! and boom, brand new werewolf. (Or whatever it is. Most are canines and felines, going by likelihood of exposure. Almost all are mammals, because blending with non-mammals can be...troublesome, and may not work at all.) On the upside, most latents (especially those whose ancestry is distant) tend not to be able to pass on the "curse" through bites, so they're not contagious.

Full moons. While an actual, really true full moon lasts only a moment or two, the moon is round enough to be perceived as full for more than just one night! It may also be in the sky during the day. So the classic old "sun goes down, moon comes up, werewolf howls!" trope isn't...actually all that accurate. A fully round moon can actually last around four days.

That's right. Day and night, light and dark. Four days of running around with claws, teeth, and fur, during which a werewolf might be causing havoc, chased by hunters, or killed. Four days of carnage if they're insane and running on terror and adrenaline. Four days to hide, shivering and hungry, if they're sane and unprepared just trying to stay out of trouble. Four days to huddle in a basement with bottled water and cans of Spam if they've been doing this alone a long time. Four days to run in the wilderness with pack and family and have a fun camp out, if they're the luckiest of all.

Neither Miguel nor his family know that he's carrying latent were genes. Not a clue. He's just an ordinary little boy who fidgets through shoemaking lessons and looks squeamish when being taught about monster hunting, who runs off to go hang out with Abuelita Coco whenever he can, who sneaks into the attic to play his guitar and watch old De la Cruz videos, who skips and sings his way around their quiet little hometown playing with Dante the stray Xolo—as long as he's always back before dark.

(Miguel adores Tio Ernesto and asks his family every Christmas if there's a card, even if he's only met him in person once when he was so small he almost doesn't remember it.)

Then came a day when Miguel discovered that Mamá Imelda's portrait with Abuelita Coco contained a man with a white guitar—Tio Ernesto's guitar—and he wanted to know if Tio Ernesto was actually his great-grandfather because then he has a real legacy of music that could actually lead to success and not death. Mamá Imelda squashed that dream; no matter who his great-grandpa is, Riveras have a higher calling, and she will never allow one of her children to be led away from home and into distractions and disaster by music.

Miguel runs. Dante follows. It's still daylight, but there's a full moon just chilling, lazy and faded, in the blue sky above. Somewhere near the cemetery, Miguel's tears make him stumble. He bruises his knees and scrapes his hands, and ever faithful Dante tries to lick the wounds clean.

A few feverishly dizzy minutes later, Miguel is an oddly-shaped, oversized Xolo puppy wearing a red hoodie.

tbc...?

Hopefully this is interesting? Thoughts and suggestions welcome! Miguel’s journey in the wilderness is still taking shape...

Opinions on the wolf/coyote thing?

#were-xolo AU #werewolf or were-coyote #Miguel & Héctor #worldbuilding again #there will be angst #and fluff #fluffy angst #sometimes I really can't help this stuff #hopefully I didn't twist things around too far!#coco AU #coco spoilers #beware of long posts from me #apparently it's a thing I do -_-

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mst3kproject · 7 years

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804: The Deadly Mantis

Dear Janet from Devil Fish: I'm sorry I called you the world's worst paleontologist. That was mean and entirely undeserved – you are a much better paleontologist than Dr. Jackson from The Deadly Mantis. You at least realize that sharks are a type of jawed fish, while Dr. Jackson seems to think they're a type of plant. I would send you chocolates or something along with this apology, but you got strangled by a man with a concrete face. Too bad the same thing cannot be said of Dr. Jackson. Yours sincerely, the MST3K Project.

The Deadly Mantis begins with Newton's third law: for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. For example, if a volcano erupts in the South Atlantic, that'll cause vibrations in the Earth's crust, which in turn trigger iceberg calving at the north pole, thus allowing a giant mantis to thaw out after millions of years in the ice! Clearly. QED.

I guess I could describe what happens in the movie. I could tell you about the buildings and vehicles destroyed, and the scientists and military who try to solve this mantis problem, but I don't think there'd be any point. The Deadly Mantis is another paint-by-numbers movie, kind of like The Mole People, where it feels like the producers made a list and checked stuff off. Monster? Check. Hero? Check. Scientist? Check. Girl? Check. The whole thing comes across as perfunctory and we never really care about what's going on. The Deadly Mantis is almost entirely filler.

Despite that, I do kind of like this movie. It's very bad, but it's not rage-inducing like some others I could name. It's mildly racist in that everybody in it is white as WonderBread (except the Inuit in the footage borrowed from SOS Eisberg), but there's nothing explicitly offensive. It takes the time to show us what's going on instead of just telling us, even though what's going on is dull. And there are a number of little oddities that give The Deadly Mantis a surprising amount of personality.

For example, there's our first non-map sequence – seven minutes or so spent educating us about the network of RADAR that covered North America during the Cold War. You see, the quickest way between the US and the USSR is over the north pole, so the airspace above Canada had to be carefully watched to make sure nobody was attacking anybody else. The arrangement caused Canada considerable anxiety, but since nobody ever listened to my suggestion that we relocate to the Moon, we were stuck with it. We just had to sit there and hope you guys would have the sense not to bomb each other, when we could have been eating Moon Poutine and watching moose try to deal with one sixth gravity.

This RADAR sequence doesn't feel like it's part of the movie. It feels like an educational short film that might have turned up on MST3K in its own right. Narratively, the purpose of this sequence is to tell us what our first batch of mantis fodder is doing staring at RADAR screens way up in the arctic, but I don't know why they couldn't have established that with some dialogue or a sequence in which the mantis is mistaken for an incoming Soviet bomber before vanishing off the screen or something. The only answer I can come up with is that the military gave them some money for the movie, on condition that they include a bit about how awesome these RADAR fences are. That would make the sequence the Rocket Attack USA of product placement.

Then there's the rest of Act I, which tries to create a sense of mystery. Other monster movies have done this. The Beginning of the End has the town of Ludlow destroyed, with nary a clue by what. Monster on the Campus tells us that something terrible has happened to Dr. Blake, but although we can guess what it is we must wait to find out exactly. Godzilla, King of the Monsters begins with the sinking of a ship, and then the same fate befalling the second vessel sent to investigate. You know what these movies have in common? They're not called The Giant Locust Invasion, Ape-Man on the Campus, or Godzilla, Giant Fire-Breathing Dinosaur. In The Deadly Mantis we already know what the monster is, because it's the damn title!

Movies where we already know what the monster is can still create suspense. In the opening of Jaws we know the shark is creeping up on the swimmer, and it is the anticipation of the attack that makes the suspense. In Alien we have no idea what the creature is capable of. Hell, in The Amazing Colossal Man the suspense comes from wondering what Glenn's despair will drive him to do and whether the scientists will be in time to save him. The Deadly Mantis, with its POV shots and footprints in the snow, behaves as if we're supposed to be wondering what on Earth is causing this chaos, even though we already saw the words The Deadly Mantis over an image of said insect frozen in ice! As a result, the first half of the movie, before the mantis actually appears to attack the arctic base, feels like we're dawdling around waiting for the characters to catch up with us.

Another oddity is the character of Marge, who acts like she's supposed to be a hardboiled reporter despite the fact that she works for a monthly museum magazine. Everybody probably gets a copy when they pay admission, and I bet most of them find it in their bag a few days later and just throw it away. As a result, Marge comes across as slightly deluded, as if she once aspired to write for a major newspaper but this was the only media job she could get, so now she's trying to make it as much like her dream career as she can.

There's the weird bit about how there are no women at the arctic RADAR bases. This is supposed to be funny but ends up making us worry that the stammering, socially inept corporal will do something like stuff and mount Marge's skin and charge the other guys a buck each to view her. I think she agrees to dance with him in the hope that he'll be satisfied with that and spend the night jerking off in his room instead of lurking outside her window. I don’t remember if the movie gives him a name. I think of him as Corporal Gein.

And of course there's Dr. Nedrick Jackson, the movie's supposedly brilliant scientist who cannot tell his own ass from a hole in the ground, or an ant from a beetle. Let's take a look at some of his statements.

('Nedrick' is apparently a real name. The closest thing I can find to a famous bearer of it is Nedrick Young, the real name of screenwriter Nathan E. Douglas. He wrote The Defiant Ones and Jailhouse Rock. I'm gonna assume he changed his name because people reacted to it the same way Mike and the bots react to Dr. Jackson: “Nedrick?!”)

While examining the Mantis claw, he says it appears to be made of 'gristle or cartilage' rather than bone. First of all, 'gristle' and 'cartilage' are the same thing. Second, an insect's exoskeleton is not made of cartilage, it's made of chitin, which is a totally different protein. This is hardly specialized knowledge – I remember learning it in high school biology.

Then he announces that the claw can't be from an animal, 'because every known species of animal has a bony skeleton'. Never mind that he just identified the claw as cartilage, which is only found in animals. Never mind that animals with skeletons have cartilaginous parts, like the cartilage in your knee that allows the joint to move freely without bone scraping over bone, or the cartilage that gives your nose and ears their shape. And never mind that he goes on to list things without skeletons as including 'worms, snails, insects, gillfish'... all of which are clearly animals. The fact that he feels a need to mention that birds and reptiles have bony skeletons suggests that he's using the word 'animal' to mean 'mammal', which is a thing laypeople sometimes do, but a scientist would not.

'The ant inside this amber is at least ninety million years old', he says, showing us a stag beetle encased in acrylic, like those keychains you can buy at the Museum of Natural History. I used to have a computer mouse like that, with a little scorpion in it. It lit up. I wonder what I did with it.

The female praying mantis, he tells us, 'invariably destroys her mate after he has fulfilled his function in life'. This does happen, but we don't know how often. It seems to be something the female does when she is under undue stress, and having humans or cameras hovering there watching tends to stress her. Like Schroedinger's Cat, the male mantis is both eaten and un-eaten until somebody looks... and then he generally gets eaten.

'A geological world [in which] the smallest insects were the size of man!' No they weren't! In the Carboniferous there were indeed giant insects, but that two-foot dragonfly was about as big as they got. Anyway, the oldest-known fossil mantis is only about a hundred and forty-five million years old, while the giant dragonfly, Meganeura, is over twice that old. Meganeura was able to grow that big because there was far more oxygen in the Carboniferous atmosphere. Mantises, which evolved in the Jurassic, have never been much bigger than they are now.

'The deerfly goes six hundred [miles] per hour'. The deerfly is indeed among the fastest insects, able to reach a top speed of ninety miles per hour. Also, fuck you, Dr. Jackson, you have no idea what you're talking about.

Maybe that's why I like this movie – it makes such absurd assertions with such a straight face. Maybe it's because the actual mantis puppet is really pretty cool. Or maybe I'm just fondly remembering the MST3K episode, which includes space country radio and such timeless gems as tell the Eskimos I deeply respect their culture but they're also very delicious and of course the immortal but I've got a mantis in my pantis!

#mst3k #reviews #the deadly mantis #50s #giant arthropod hours

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drferox · 7 years

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20 Questions with Dr Ferox #21

Looks like it’s time for another round of 20 questions and comments. I’ve tried to tag you all again, but if you asked on Anonymous I have no way of tagging you.

Anonymous said: Do you prefer treating certain animals over others? I'm friends with a few vets and I know one who's pretty much specialized in cats and another who can treat most companion animals but has a strong preference for dogs (good thing dog vet was out hiking with cat vet when cat vet's dog got a face full of porcupine quills lol) .

I do have a preference for cats, we just seem to come to a better mutual understanding, and I'm very softly spoken in person so the cats are less inclined to panic. I used to get along well treating cattle for some reason too, but I'm pretty exclusively in small animal practice these days.

Anonymous said: Does your clinic have a Facebook page? If so - how would you feel if clients posted pictures of their pets to it? My vet recently got my rat through a tough injury and I'd like to post a picture of her now that she's all healed up, but I don't know if that'd be weird or if any of them would even see it.

We love it when it happens. Happy pets with a nice comment on our Facebook page is always welcome. Sometimes we let people email us photos and we post them for us too.

Anonymous said: I know is Aus we're usually told to take injured wildlife to our local vet. Do you mind it, or should they be taken somewhere else instead?

It's perfectly fine for triage, but if somebody brings in an endangered species with a reasonably good prognosis, we'll often recommend it goes to a better equipped clinic for that species. Note very clinic has UV lights for turtles, for example.

Anonymous said: Hello, many years ago I lost my chihuahua to a broken back which I believe stemmed from him jumping onto our couches and beds so often. The experience was very traumatizing for me but now I have another chihuahua who jumps often and I don't often take him to the vet so I was wondering if it is common for smaller dogs to hurt themselves from jumping so often?

To actually break the back would be unusual, but slipping an intervertebral disc so that it prolapses up into the spine is relatively common after jumping off things in tiny dogs.

@justaphage said: I've been wondering about probiotics (this is not a question about the health of my dog, she's getting treatment). Multiple times (and with two different vets) when my dog had diarrhea they gave us a probiotic along with the dewormer or antibiotic and I've been thinking: my doctors never prescribed or suggested that when I'm sick in a similar way. Is there some difference in what we know about dog/human probiotics or is it just a difference of the culture of medicine.

It's probably more a culture of medicine than anything else, but also probiotics are kind of wishy-washy in terms of clinical evidence. There's some evidence to say they're sometimes very useful, but other times not so much. Keep in mind though that dogs are also much more likely to eat poop from other animals and so will be picking up all sorts of intestinal microflora.

Anonymous said: I came across your weed toxicity post for pets and had a question: a friend of mine recently told me he got weed extract for his anxious rescue pet (can't remember if it was a dog or cat) but prescribed by a veterinarian I didn't ask him more about it because I was too confused at the moment, knowing that weed does not have the same effects on dogs and cats as it has on people. do you think this is legit or was he bullshitting me?

It's hard to know, especially given that I have no way of knowing which country you're in, or what your laws in relation to marijuana are. Certainly there are some veterinarians working on cannabinoid extracts with known concentrations and milligram dosages, but if I was told this locally I would be extremely skeptical.

@fallowsthorn said: On the "cats don't usually get round tumors" thing - weirdly enough, our cat has a bunch of them. Our joke is that he gets a new one every time he goes to the vet, because every single time, the tech says something to the effect of "well this isn't normal for cats but...." They're just little bumps of fat, they don't grow, and he doesn't poke at them or seem in pain, but he's got like twenty of them by now and it's super weird.

It is super weird. Cats usually get inflamed fat rather than fatty tumors, but there's always somebody that does things differently.

Anonymous said: Hey Dr Ferox! I'm just asking purely out of curiosity, have you ever had a kitty patient come in with an aural hematoma?

I have once, but I can't remember whether it had been in a fight or had an ear infection, or both. We treated it surgically, the same way as a dog.

@daedricprincessxoxo said: I've decided to start as a technician before becoming a veterinarian, after a CVPM at a big-deal hospital told me how much she recommends it. After ages of financial constraints, I finally began the course to become licensed!! I'm to excited not to share!!!

That is very exciting and great to hear. Best of luck with all of it.

@insatiable-obsession said: Hi I love your blog! It's so informative and real, and I'm trying very hard to get into the vet world (unsuccessfully applied to several vet clinics and hopefully going to vet tech school next year!) I was wondering if you have any advice or opinions on zoo work/zookeeping? Also to give you a fun break from all the vet questions, do you prefer: sunset or sunrise? Camping or going to the beach? Christmas or Halloween? Pen or pencil? Sweet or savory?

I really don't do much with zoos and prefer not to analyse them too much through a veterinary lens, because I want to keep them as something fun. Like everything else in life zookeeping is possible to do very well, and possible to do very badly. You could pop across to @why-animals-do-the-thing for more zookeeping connections.

Anonymous said: I'm so annoyed right now. So ever since my friend got a dog we were trying to get them to get him fixed (her dad who's totally hyper masculine is against neutering) then they got a girl dog and refused to get her fixed (we convinced the mom but not the dad). They tried to rehome the girl earlier in the year and until tonight they've refused to get one of them fixed. Tonight the girl had 9 pups and it's the only thing that convinced them to get her fixed (after she's done nursing) They also are keeping one of the male puppies. The dogs go out on a cable because they don't have a yard. The dogs are big too they're an staff bully breed mixes.

I don't know what to tell you Anon. It's a poor situation for those animals to be in, but I can't tell you anything to make it any better, and as long as their minimum welfare standards are met, the animals can't be seized.

Anonymous said: I am considering harness training a new cat. I have only indoor cats. If I allow my new cat out in a harness will I need to do anything different for care of my indoor cats, because all the cats will be in contact together at home. My indoor cats are up to date on their rabies and distemper vaccines, do they need anything else?

You should call your own vet about what concerns are relevant locally. You are very clearly not local to me and I cannot give you specific veterinary advice, but I suspect parasite control is going to be important for your cats.

Anonymous said:What do you do if your pet dies at home? Like with the body?

Depending on where you are, you can have the option to bury your pet at home, or you can arrange burial or cremation either through a vet clinic or a pet crematorium directly.

Anonymous said: I have a 3.5 month old kitten and he occasionally like tries to eat litter? i use a clay bases non clumping litter and i move him away whenever he starts but like? Could there be a medical reason? Is he just weird? Were taking him to the vet soon to be neutered and im going to ask them then. Thank you!!

There is no way for me to tell whether your kitten it eating litter because it has a nutrient deficiency, an abnormal behavior or is just chewing on things with a novel texture. Hope your vet visit goes well.

Anonymous said: Hi, not sure if you can help, but figure it's worth a shot! I'm in my parasitology class and I'm having the hardest time keeping the Spinose ear tick and the ear mite straight in my head due to their extremely similar scientific names(otobius megnini and otodectes cynotis respectively) and both residing in/around an animals ears, can you offer any advice?

Sorry I don't have any advice for you, other than O. megnini being an overseas parasite and not one I have to deal with.

Anonymous said: I came across your blog while having a nasty bout of heartburn and I got to wondering: can animals suffer from acid reflux or have symptoms similar to GERD in humans? If so, do you know of any cases or treatments?

Small animals can also suffer acid reflux and subsequent oesophageal ulcers. It's particularly common in brachycephalic dogs. There are a variety of potential predisposing causes, some of which are managed medically, but some require surgery. Hiatal hernias are a good example.

@softlyfiercely said: Am curious re: your thoughts on a childhood memory. We had snails in our yard growing up (southwestern USA) and we loved them. My brother & I fed them lettuce & built them little stick-and-leaf villages. Once we brought one inside to show a family friend. He dropped it. Its shell cracked & it looked in bad shape. We were distraught and begged mom to bring it to a vet. She did not. But would a vet have been able to help? How do zoos care for endangered snails? Can snail shells be repaired?

Some clinics equipped for exotics can and will treat snails, but not very often. It's possible to repair small areas of damage to the shell, so long as the body has not been damaged and does not come into contact with any glue or compounds used.

@malted-shark said: Just wanna' say. Sardine sounds like my Basil at the vet. He has aggressive on his chart and they legitimately have to launch a liquid sedative in his mouth. I wish I was kidding. I wish he wasn't such a nightmare at the vet. He's like that at home sometimes too. Particularly, he doesn't like it when things aren't done EXACTLY to his liking and don't dare try to restrain or hell is to be paid. I just let them handle it, I get scared of him.

With cats like this, sometimes all you can and should do is sedate them for an exam. It's stressful for the cat and dangerous for the handler otherwise.

@peaceofpuregold said: As a primary human to two feral (currently not so feral with a lot of patience, training, and good luck in the mix) can confirm at least 70% of the feral cat escape phrases. All I was missing were the washing machine related ones. I might use this to make a bingo card.

If you do make a feral cat bingo card, let us know!

@hesmyboi said: Came for Trashbag, stayed because I adore animals, I like your style, and I'm having fun learning about veterinarian stuff

And we're very pleased to have you here with us. Thank you.

#20 questions

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writesandramblings · 6 years

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The Captain’s Secret - p.22

“Umale”

Full Chapter List Part 1 - Objects in Motion << 21 - Tree’s Company 23 - The Smallest Gifts Mean the Most >>

As day turned to night, Morita and Serot moved around the area the lului had designated for them, fastidiously avoiding the Gorn corpse. Most of the lului barely moved at all. They seemed to lack the restlessness of most species, perfectly happy to perch in one spot for hours on end. Eventually, Serot curled up on the ground and fell asleep, spear beside her, and Morita went to sit against the tree with Lorca and Lalana.

It was dark, but still quite warm. Without the sun, the full glory of the Briar Patch's carpet of red gases was on display, illuminating everything in a faint red glow. It was so strangely alien. There were a few stars here and there, but this deep in the Briar Patch cloud, most of the stars were obscured. Maybe that was why the lului had never sought to explore space. If you could only see a few stars, could you truly understand the full breadth of the universe? Could you fully imagine the many worlds that might be out there? Or did you think you were alone in it all until strange invaders landed and tried to make your planet their own?

"I miss the stars," said Lorca.

"Me, too," said Lalana.

Morita didn't mind the display of red. If anything, she found it comforting. Like a beautiful red blanket wrapped around the planet. She kept this observation to herself and yawned.

"You should get some rest. That's an order, lieutenant commander."

Morita crossed her arms and glared at him in the darkness. "After you, sir."

Lorca remembered what Yoon had said. "You really can't fall asleep if I'm awake?"

Morita shrugged, close enough her arm brushed his. "I'll try, but... it feels like I'm being watched."

"That's because all the lului are watching us," said Lalana from Lorca's other side. Morita sighed. That didn't help.

The lului also seemed not to sleep. They maintained a low, gentle murmur of conversation among themselves that ebbed and flowed but never fully stopped. Lorca closed his eyes at some point, and Morita did, too.

He woke up with Lalana's tail in his hair and Morita's head on his shoulder, a faint dribble from her mouth on his shirt. Falling asleep upright against a tree had done absolutely nothing good for all his aches and pains.

He wasn't sure what had woken him up until he made out the dim silhouette of Serot in the faint red light. She was standing with her spear in conversation with a lului he did not recognize.

"...is my life," Serot was saying. "Without this, I am nothing."

"You must destroy it. There is no other way. Without it, I do not have the materials to fix the transponder."

"There are other materials, caches you have destroyed. I know this. Fetch them. Kill-stick is who I am."

"And yet, for you to become who you want to be, you must let it go regardless."

"You said it will be five thousand more days before the cycle and this can be done. I wish to retain my spear until then."

"Then you will go with the hunters when the hunt ends."

Serot let out a small wail.

"There are always sacrifices," said the unknown lului. "Now give me your spear. Be glad this sacrifice is so small."

Lorca nudged Morita awake with his shoulder and got to his feet. "Umale?"

"Captain Lorca," said the lului. "Your transponder will be fixed soon."

Umale was smaller than the other lului. Lorca could not quite tell what color it was. It looked reddish, but in this light, so did Lalana, and Lalaila looked pink.

"I take it your original signal was rather weak or your ship would have arrived by now. I will make some improvements and your ship should have no trouble locating our planet. We will be vigilant and inform you when it arrives."

Lorca pressed a hand against an ache in his shoulder, feeling a twinge from his ribs as he did. "How..." He wasn't even sure what question he wanted to ask. "Improvements?" He felt Lalana stand beside him and press herself against his leg. He brought his arm back down and touched her back.

Umale turned back to Serot. "Your spear, Serot of the Shkef, and I will grant you what you seek."

Serot twirled the spear vertically in her fingers so the blade spun like a little upside-down top. She knelt and handed the weapon to Umale with both hands.

"Thank you. I will give you a new name. Soars-gladly. Put that into your tongue."

"Shel-lif," said Serot, sounding somewhat less than glad.

"You are free to go and do what you wish. I cannot guarantee the other hunters will not find you, but all lului will assist you in hiding if you need. It is now painted on the wind that they do so." Umale addressed the assembled lului. "I will now utilize the old ways. Any lului who does not wish to be privy to such a thing, please replace yourself in the sensory array with one who will tolerate it."

There was a shuffle in the trees. Though it was difficult to make out, it seemed like all of the lului turned their backs.

"I cannot watch this," said Serot, dashing away and expanding her membranes. She leapt into the air and soared into the air, a dark shadow vanishing into the night.

It was very hard to tell what Umale was doing in the darkness. Lorca realized there was a sack on the ground next to Umale. Umale took something out of it with its tail. An object. An actual, physical lului object.

Umale did something with the object, the spear, and the transponder. Lorca saw a flash of sparks and the blade of the spear glowed red. Umale pressed the spear's blade against the transponder, wrapped something around both, and then wrapped its tail around the arrangement.

"What are you doing?" asked Morita.

"As it looks," said Umale, explaining nothing.

The shaft of the spear fell away. There was a crackling electrical noise and a series of tiny clicks. Something shifted inside Umale's tail. More crackling, more clicks. Another shift. The sequence repeated four more times and then Umale was done. It opened its tail and the transponder light was a bright, solid blue.

"I encoded a route into the signal. I pray no one else listening knows your encryption codes. Of course, the hunters will be able to detect this signal now, but we will keep the device itself away from them until its function is complete, as distasteful a task as that may be." Umale handed the transponder to a lului Lorca thought was Linali.

"Umale," said maybe-Linali, and bounded away into the night.

"The hunters will doubtless come to search this area for you now. I suggest you move elsewhere on the planet. Current sensor technologies are not excellent at penetrating rock, are they? Then I would suggest the caves with the open water vents. Lalana knows where they are. And as for you, Lalana."

Lalana suddenly shifted position, moving behind Lorca as if to hide, and curled her tail around his ankles.

"Come to the Deepwater Hive when you are done with this escort. I have need of you."

"Umale," said Lalana softly.

Umale picked up the bag and turned to go. "Wait!" said Lorca. "We want to talk to you."

"What makes you think I want to talk to you?"

"We represent the United Federation of Planets, a peaceful coalition of worlds—"

"Yes, I am aware of you," said Umale.

Lorca did not hide his surprise. "We're on a mission of exploration. To that end, we'd like to know more about you and your people—"

"You already know too much."

"If you'll just answer a few questions—"

"Three questions."

Lorca blinked. He had not expected that. "We're really more interested in a deeper exchange of information..."

"Three questions, and you ask them now, or nothing."

Lorca wondered why Umale had chosen three given the lului dislike for the number. Perhaps it was intended as an insult. It certainly felt that way. He quickly tried to figure out the three most important questions to ask.

Umale waited, then turned away.

"Wait!" Lorca blurted out the first question on his mind. "I thought you didn't use technology. How did you fix the transponder?"

Umale was generous enough to address the heart of what Lorca was asking. "Lului do not use technology, but that does not mean we have never had technology. We chose to abandon it to become better. Technology is a distraction from the truth of being present and alive. Your transponder was very crude compared to what we once lived with, and easily amplified."

Lorca struggled to think of how to follow this up. Being asked to suddenly generate three questions on demand seemed like a sick joke. He looked to Morita.

"What do we need to know about your people? What's the right question to ask?" Morita managed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for that to be two—"

"It is one question worded twice," said Umale. "There is no right or wrong question, and there is nothing you need to know about us. If you are as good as the words you have given Lalana, you will leave this world and not set foot on it again so that we may continue on our path as we have chosen it. I know that who we are can attract a great deal of curiosity, so the most important thing to know about us is that we are not here for your amusement."

"Are all your people jerks?" said Lorca under his breath to Lalana, not intending it as an actual question, but Umale answered it.

"As are all of yours," replied Umale. "As are all intelligent beings. Selfish, short-sighted, and self-righteous. We cannot live with ourselves unless we believe ourselves to be right. Kindness is something we extend only to ourselves, and anyone who is kind to others is saying they believe the others to be a part of themselves. There is always a limit to this consideration, usually triggered by a difference in an aspect of belief, and there are always those who would take advantage of this generosity of self. Whether it is better to be the abuser or the abused is a more important question, but the third option is to be a jerk to everyone and save all involved the trouble of an imbalance of kindness. I hope this satisfied your curiosity. Goodbye." Umale slid the bag over its shoulder and seemed to fade away into the ground. (Probably Umale had just changed its color so they could not make it out in the reddish-dark.)

"Did..." Morita began to say. "Did you just..."

Lorca held up a finger. "Don't." He covered his face with his hand. "Argh!"

"Do not be upset, that was the best question," said Lalana cheerfully. She patted Lorca's bottom twice with her tail, making him snort in amusement at the impropriety of it and then exclaim as pain shot through his ribcage. "What? I was not telling a joke!"

"Let's just get out of here," Lorca said through gritted teeth. "Which way to those caves?"

As they headed to the caves, the topic of Serot came up. "Or is it Shel-lif now?" wondered Lorca. "What the hell was she talking to Umale about?"

"He said he would make her into a lului," answered Lalana. She had apparently decided lului did need genders assigned for the sake of convenience in English conversation. It probably wasn't the most respectful thing to do given the general lului disdain for gender as a concept. Then again, Umale had basically said it was preferable for everyone to be massive jerks to one another, so it served him right.

The gender issue was not what Lorca tripped over. "What!"

"I do not know if it will work, but, it will be very interesting if it does."

"How would you even do that?" asked Morita.

"You would join the cycle merge, and your body would be replaced by lului cells, leaving your brainstem, and I am not entirely sure a shkef brainstem is compatible with lului cells, but maybe it is. Umale tasted her and seemed to think it would work. He would know better than I."

"Serot really loves your people," said Lorca, shaking his head. Morita snorted derisively and Lorca shot her a look.

"Yeah, she totally loves lului," said Morita sarcastically. "When I asked her to fetch me a live one, she speared Lualen in the leg and dropped him from a height of, oh, two hundred feet maybe?"

Lorca's eyes went wide. "Geez."

"We were lucky she's so loyal to 'clients.'"

"How so?"

Morita froze. "Isn't that... why you told me to get her to help?"

Lorca threw up his hands. "I thought she liked lului! She must! She wants to be one!"

"It is not so much that she wants to be a lului," said Lalana, "as Umale told her that was the only condition he would let her stay on Luluan."

Lorca sputtered. "If she doesn't like lului..."

"...and she knew we weren't real clients, didn't she? Why was she helping us?"

Lalana clicked her tongue. "Because of the wind," she said. "You really don't understand shkef, do you? They do entirely what the wind tells them. They shift with the currents. That is why she likes Luluan so much. The air is very warm."

"So, when she gave me the spear..."

"I doubt she was giving it to you. She was probably just dropping it to see where it landed. You were lucky it didn't hit you." Lalana had very much enjoyed the Gorn story, and had already made Lorca retell it twice, declaring it only got better each time she heard it.

Lorca suddenly got the impression the spear had been intended to kill him. When it hadn't and he had instead used it to kill the Gorn, Serot had interpreted that as a sign. Half a foot to the right and the story would have had the exact opposite ending.

"We should keep moving," said Morita.

"This way."

The forest gave way to rocky hillsides as the sky began to lighten with the first trace of dawn. They had to slow down slightly to ascend the hillside; though they could make out enough of the terrain to move, the rocks were loose. Lorca was in enough pain without falling on top of it all.

A dark shadow loomed in front of them. The maw of a cave. It looked spectacularly uninviting.

"We need a torch," said Lorca, fully aware they had no access to any accelerants.

"It is light inside," promised Lalana.

As slow as they had gone up the hill, entering the cave reduced them to a crawl. Only Lalana could see anything. She took the lead and Lorca held on to her tail for guidance in the darkness, shuffling his feet. Morita, in turn, kept hold of Lorca's shirt.

It was hard to tell how far they had gone, but eventually, Lorca thought he saw a faint glow ahead. Morita saw it, too. There was a bubbling sound. It began to get warm and humid.

They rounded a bend and found themselves staring into a large cavern, its walls coated with bioluminescent bacteria of some kind. Even more impressive, the cave contained a series of steaming pools of water that glowed with the same bioluminescence. There were even glowing flecks of light drifting on the steamy air.

"They turn the heat from the water into light," said Lalana of the bacteria.

"An onsen!" said Morita, the first time she had been truly happy since dinner.

There were lului here, in the water. They ducked their heads down and disappeared into the depths somewhere.

Morita checked the water temperature and practically tore off her clothes. She slid into the water with an absolute moan of relief. "It's perfect! Come on!"

Seeing as he had been invited, Lorca gingerly sat down and began pulling off his boots. He stripped down to underwear for decency's sake.

The giant purple bruise along the side of his torso looked truly terrible illuminated and magnified by the water, but the warmth felt amazing, soothing his sore muscles and battered ribcage, and the buoyancy of the water took a lot of the stress off his joints. He found a rock formation perfect for reclining against and just relaxed while Morita rinsed her hair in the water and swam and generally moved around with the sort of joy that people who grew up with a pool feel after having gone without for far too long.

Morita let out a gasp of delight and held up her hand. Bioluminescent bacteria were clinging to her skin.

"You're glowing!" Lorca called to her.

She laughed. "So are you!" Lorca lifted his own hand from the water and discovered it was true. "These aren't flesh-eating, right?"

"Perfectly harmless," promised Lalana. Then she strode into the water, announced, "I will return," and dove in.

Lorca sat up just in time to watch her go. He had not seen a lului swim before and was amazed at the way Lalana shot through the water like a missile, her filaments and tail propelling her forward. The pools extended into a series of underwater tunnels. Lalana vanished into one. Lorca wondered if she was going to "Deepwater Hive" as Umale had asked.

If she was, Deepwater Hive was a lot closer than its name suggested, because she returned within fifteen minutes covered with something entwined in her filaments. These mystery objects turned out to be chubby, writhing worms between three and five inches long and ranging in thickness between a cigar and a pinky finger.

"I thought you might be hungry," Lalana said. "There are milulae. Would you like them live or dead? I can kill them for you, just don't tell anyone I did."

None of them had eaten in about a day. It was to the point where Lorca felt like he was past hunger, so he wondered if he might skip on this offering, generous as it was.

Morita, of course, took a live worm and bit into it. Juices squirted out. She chewed it. "It's like a softer version of octopus," she declared.

"Exactly!" said Lalana.

"It could be poisonous," warned Lorca.

"I promise they contain no toxins."

"If I'm dead in fifteen minutes, you'll have your answer," said Morita. After ten minutes, she seemed fine, so Lorca tentatively ate a dead one. It did remind him of octopus, but more creamy and less chewy. Of course, once he actually ate something, he realized how hungry he was, but he was too worried about gastrointestinal distress to make more than a very small meal of the worms.

He returned to soaking with his eyes closed, opening them only when he heard a small splash. Lalana was in the water next to him. She sidled up alongside and plonked down directly at his side. Her filaments tickled. He closed his eyes.

A few minutes later he opened his eyes, realizing something was amiss, and looked down. The bruise on his side had lightened several shades. "What are you doing?"

"All the little branches in your skin are broken, I'm just fixing them."

Lorca groaned loudly. "Ask next time."

"Do you want me to stop?" He shrugged and closed his eyes again. By the time he decided to get out of the water, it looked like his bruise was several days old and mostly healed.

A lului appeared in the water while they were drying off. "Your people here," it said, then disappeared. Lorca and Morita exchanged a look. The odyssey was finally over.

Part 23

#Star Trek Discovery #fanfic #fanfiction #Captain Lorca #Gabriel Lorca

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