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lilyharvord · 4 years

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The Chain (Part 5)

Main Concept: Two love struck idiots get sent back to a pretty UGH time period in their lives (that required me to reread all the books again) and have to hide the fact that they know everything.

Find Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

Tag list: @delilahlbard @king-maven-calore @scxrletguardsdawn @freaky-freiday @whatsup-gorls @kuwei @redqueenetwork @elane-in-the-shadows @evangeline-of-montfort @evangelineartemiasamos @petergrantkavinsky (girl I’m so sorry that I haven’t tagged you yet!) @thatoddgirl777 @elliekratzzz. If you want a tag please ask ((:

Chapter 5

Cal leaves me a few houses away from my own, and stays in the shadows of another home’s stilts while I walk the last hundred meters to my porch. I can spot the outline of my father’s shadow in the dark as I approach and I glance over my shoulder once to make sure Cal is concealed. Even to my now trained eye, I can’t spot him. He’s much better at hiding now.

“You shouldn’t worry your mother like that,” my father’s voice rumbles from the shadows, his eyes narrowed. They dance over my shoulder, probably trying to spot what I am looking for. He won’t spot Cal though. At least, he won’t spot him if Cal stays put until we get onto the porch. While I love him, sometimes he’s not the brightest bulb in the country.

“I’m sorry.” I whisper to my father as he squints at the shadows down the street. If Cal didn’t stay put I think I might have to kill him.

Slowly turning his eyes back to me, my father shifts in his chair before jabbing a thumb at the utility box. He lets out a huff. “Power went out. Thought I’d give it a look.” He wheels over to the source of his musings wheezing the whole way. I follow dutifully, already sensing the electric current humming from the ground. I can tell which wire is faulty too. Like a small spot of darkness in otherwise pure light, it sticks out like a sore thumb. “’Lec papers didn’t work?” I ask as I watch him try to tinker with the box.

He pulls one of them from his shirts and feeds it into the box. Nothing happens though. Twisting my lips to the side, I step in front of him and hear his wheel’s squeak as he rolls out of my way.

“What are you going to do? You can’t fix the damn busted thing.” He grumbles, and that clicking in his chest gets louder as he coughs.

Prying the thing open with my fingers, I glance at the mess of wires. I need him to look away while I do this. I can’t have him seeing what I can do, especially if all I do is grab a wire and all the lights turn on. I step back from it then, knowing that I’ll have to do it the old fashioned way.

He rolls forward and smacks the box before I can even try to do anything. His hand hits the metal with a deadening thump that I can feel through my own resting on top. I watch as he continues to hit it, hoping to bring something to life with each swing. I let him throw one good hit before thrusting life back into the box. Sparks dance on the wires, and above us, the porch light hums to life.

“Well, fancy that,” Dad mutters before spinning in the mud and wheeling himself back to his pulley. Closing the box with one hand, I clench my other hand into a fist to quench the sparks that want to explode to life.

He waits for me to approach before buckling in and saying, “No more running.”

I nod and try to smile. I don’t have the heart to tell him what he needs to hear. I’ll be gone by tomorrow and I won’t be back for days. They’ll think I’m dead, and that’s fine. We’re alright someday, I promise myself as I watch the rig rise to the porch with a whine. When he gets there, I climb the ladder, using the time to glance in the shadows for Cal. One detaches and starts walking. He stayed the whole time, I think with a stupid smile. Maybe he had gotten a little smarter.

At the top, Dad struggles with the rig and I scramble up the ladder before helping him with the belts. When he’s finally free, he mutters, “Bugger of a thing.”

I can’t help but smile. For all his rough edges, I know what is beneath. “Mom will be happy you’re getting out of the house.”

He grabs my hand tightly, and the callouses there rub at my skin, reminding me that we’re not out of this hell hole yet. His hands never do soften, no matter how long he lives in Montfort.

“Don’t tell your mother,” he whispers to me. I purse my lips in response, knowing that given today, she could use even the resemblance of hope. “But—“

“I know it seems like nothing, but it’s enough of something. She’ll think it’s a step on a big journey, you see? First I leave the house at night, then during the day, then I’m rolling around the market with her like it’s twenty years ago. Then things go back to the way they were.” His eyes darken as he recounts what I know will come to pass. He fights to keep his emotions at bay, his voice only wavering slight at the end. “I’m not getting better, Mare. I’m never going to feel better. I can’t let her hope for that, not when I know it’ll never happen. Do you understand?”

I nod, understanding absolutely what that means. Hope comes in small flares to my family, only to be snuffed out. My brothers return from war, but not Shade. Then Shade returns, only to be lost again. They lose Shade, but they gain Clara. They lose me, but my father gains his legs and lungs back. They say goodbye to me on a tarmac when I fly back to Norta to save a country that has never bothered with me, but gain their safety. They almost lose me in Norta when I go the second time. I return to them though, dragging a heartbroken prince behind me. I wish I could tell Dad what is coming, that the future will be better, even if we lose parts of ourselves along the way. He rolls inside though, leaving me on the porch while a weak river breeze cuts through my hair.

((((/////////))))

I’m already awake when the officers kick down our door. I couldn’t sleep, planning every second of tomorrow down to the second. I don’t care that my plan may not survive the first few moments. I will make sure that nothing goes completely off kilter.

I wake Gisa slowly, and help her out of her cot then down the ladder. She accepts my help at first, and leans on her good arm for support as she goes. Mom waits for us on the floor, and opens her arms to Gisa before engulfing her in a hug. She keeps her eyes on my though. I know why. They’ve come for me, and whatever motherly instinct she possess has told her so.

Two officers wait by the door, with Walsh between them. My chest tightens at the sight of her. In almost a month, she will be foaming at the mouth on the floor a chamber. Does she feel her clock ticking down like I do?

“We submit to search and seizure,” Dad grumbles, but the officers don’t move. Walsh raises a clean brow at my father’s words though. Stepping forward she brings her eyes to me. “Miss Barrow, you have bee summoned to Summerton.”

I expel the breath I’m holding. I had worried that Cal had given Walsh different orders, maybe to take me another way, but apparently he understood that today has to occur. Gisa’s good hand closes around mine, and I hear for the first time her whisper, “no.”

“You have been summoned to Summerton,” Walsh repeats when I stay rooted to the spot, shocked by Gisa’s words. “We will escort you. Please proceed.”

She gives me a smile as I step forward, but Gisa doesn’t let go of my hand. Seeing this Walsh dips her head to my parents. “Don’t worry, everything’s settled after yesterday. The Hall and the market are well controlled now. Please proceed.”

This is a summons from the crown prince, even if Walsh doesn’t know that, she has to follow her orders. We can’t arrive too early though. I have to get there just in time, so that everything lines up. Turning back to Gisa, I untangle my hand from hers. She leaps forward, making a move to grab me, but Mom holds her back. I give her a little smile in response, hoping to calm her nerves. “I’ll see you soon.”

Dad’s hand brushes my arm, his own form of goodbye, while Mom’s eyes swim with tears. One of the officers grabs my arm and pulls me toward the door. I look back at the three of them though. The world changes from here too. When they see me again, I won’t be the same. Cal will be with me this time though. We’ll have to come up with something far more convincing than him being from Harbor Bay when we see my family again. We’ll be prepared for that encounter at least.

The door slams in my face, and I turn forward to watch Walsh descend our ladder. One of the officers pushes me toward it and I follow her to the ground. I’m hustled through the village then, and I know why. Queenstrial awaits, and Walsh does not want to be late.

I focus on my hands the entire ride in the transport, counting the seconds until I’m trapped in gilded cage with Elara. While Montfort tried to teach us ways to combat whispers, the methods aren’t perfect. Elara was a master of her craft too, I don’t know how much my techniques will help me. My secrets have to remain my own though. She can’t know what is to come.

We stop at the gate, and after we are let through, I feel Walsh’s eyes on me. She gives me a soft smile. “I’m Ann, by the way, but we mostly go by last names. Call me Walsh.”

I know. I know more about her than she could ever imagine. She raises a brow at my continued silence. I snap my head when I realize she’s waiting for me to respond. Her name is supposed to ring a bell. Grimacing, I say, “You’re from the Stilts.”

“I am. I knew your brother Tramy, and I wish I didn’t know Bree. A real heartbreaker that one.” She teases, and I can’t help the smile that those words conjure. A heartbreaker indeed. He had half of the Montfort women eating out of the palm of his hand after living there for only two months. She tilts her head to the side at my expression and muses, “I don’t know you though. But I certainly will.”

Yes, yes you will. You’ll probably regret it too.

She waits for another response before raising a brow. “Not the talking type I see. Well, you should know you’ll be working long hours here. I don’t know who hired you or what they told you about the job, but it starts to wear on you. It’s not all changing bedsheets and cleaning plates. You have to look without seeing, hear without listening. We’re objects up there, living statues meant to serve.”

Not for much longer.

She sighs before opening the door of the transport and helping me out. After wrenching open a door from the wall, she begins to lead me down a flight of stairs. I follow quickly. Queenstrial awaits. Cal is waiting. He told me once that today was both the worst and best day of his life. Worst because he knew it was the day he would never escape Evangeline again, and the best because I managed to ruin everything about Evangeline’s big day. I had pushed a pillow into his face in response, and he’d laughed himself hoarse about it.

Walsh hurries down the stairs, looking over her shoulder to shout, “Keep up, I don’t have time to hold your hand!” Scrambling to catch her, I descend into a dark tunnel that runs underneath the market and into the Hall of the Sun. She waits for only a moment before saying, “You serve the king now, there’s no time for dilly dallying.”

((((/////////))))

I hurry along a hall of the Spiral Garden, keeping my eyes on the red servant in front of me. He’s much older than me, and I can see it in the way his shoulders slump as he walks. Queenstrial is set to begin, and a bead of sweat runs down my neck when I being to wonder if I’m in the right place. What if I’m not in the right place in line? How long was I in the Samos box for? What if I’m not the servant that goes up to the box I fell out of? Can I stage a fall from the servant’s box? I doubt it.

By the time I get to the elevated platform the other servants are standing on, I bump my way into line, hoping that I’m in the right place. As I do so, the High Houses enter. I strain to catch sight of them, memories of sitting with Lady Blonos and memorizing their colors bubbling to the surface. Dark blue and red, House Iral. Blue and green, House Osanos. Green and Gold, House Welle. Green and Black, House Viper. Gold and Black, House Provos. I can recall them all from memory. In another year, many of them will be dead.

I look them all over, and manage to spot Ara Iral, looking beyond bored in her box. But she’s also spying, I know that, cataloging everything away for later. In my distraction, I almost miss my call to the Samos box. I leap to attention, hurrying but trying to make it look like I’m not. I dance between bodies, lighter on my feet than I was even when I was this age.

I enter the Samos box silently, shifting the curtain aside. From behind, I can see every muscle Ptolemus tries to hide in his fancy shirt. Like Cal, he’s never been able to hide the fact that he would rather be a warrior. My stomach still curls at the sight of him. To think in a few months he will be the reason Clara doesn’t have a father. The sight of Volo makes me queasy. Evangeline told me what fate befell her father in Archeon during the Lakelanders attack, and I wonder if I’ll ever be able to look him in the eye without picturing his face flattened against the deck of a ship.

I draw my tongue along my lip before saying, “Sir?” He doesn’t even notice me, and a part of me almost laughs. What I wouldn’t give for him to ignore me like this in a few months. Soon, he won’t be able to. He holds out the empty water glass to me, a bored look on his face. “They’re toying with us, Ptolemus.”

Taking the glass from him, I wait for Ptolemus to finish his. His eyes dance to me in confusion for a moment over his rim before he offers me the glass. I stifle the shake in my hand as I take it, panic coursing through me as he continues to watch my hands. “A demonstration of power, Father.” He says nonetheless as I hurry away to hide my face from him. “They make us wait because they can.”

I want to spit in his face, or at least make a face in his direction like a child. To think Cal still respects you when you talk about him like a dog you can’t get to heel. Then again, Cal never did hesitate to throw a quip about Ptolemus out.

I fill their glasses at the sink when the tone sounds, announcing the royal family. I close my eyes and expel a slow exhale. From where I hide in the flowers, I can see the High Houses all rise to their feet. Ptolemus whispers something to Volo, and I wish I was close enough to know what it was. Peeking out from the flowers, I watch as Cal’s father steps onto the balcony. My skin prickles at the sight of him. I can’t begin to imagine what Cal felt the first time he saw him. I know the first time I see Shade I’ll clutch him a hug like never before. I couldn’t imagine Cal doing that with his father, but I’m sure even being near him is making his heart ache. This is a torture neither of us could ever prepare for. Perhaps that’s the dark side of Giselle ability. You could see your happiest moments and the people you haven’t seen in years, only to remember that this has already occurred and you are simply reliving pain.

From behind him, Elara floats out. I have to clutch the sink to keep from ducking out of sight. She doesn’t know I’m here, she doesn’t even know I exist yet. My plan is going to fail within seconds of seeing her, I know it. My weak little defenses will not withstand her ability. She’ll see everything. She’ll kill Cal, and hang his body up for everyone to see. Weak like his mother, she’ll say. He was sympathetic to the reds, he had to be removed. And it will be my fault.

“Death to the Scarlet Guard!” rings out from several of the boxes, jarring me from thoughts. I dare a glance to see who is yelling. Haven is the only house I have time to catch before the King shouts back at them.

“The Scarlet Guard—and all our enemies—are being dealt with!” The crowd silences immediately and my lips curl up in a smile at that. I don’t miss this man, not in the slightest.

“—today we honor tradition, and no Red devil will impede that. Now is the rite of Queenstrial, to bring forth the most talented daughter to wed the most eligible son.” He continues in his speech, and I crane my neck down the stairs to check on Volo. He hasn’t moved, although he does lean over to whisper something else to Ptolemus. I grip the glass tightly in my hand as I turn the sink on again to hide my breathing. I might be sick right here in this room. If I see him, if I look into those blue eyes will I be able to avoid falling apart?

“Both of my sons honor our most solemn custom,” he waves them forward, and I dare a glance at the back of their heads. Cal’s on the other side of his father. He can’t see me, unless her turns his shoulders and cranes his neck slightly. I squeeze my hand into a fist though as Maven slowly turns, raising his hand in a greeting I know has been perfected by his mother. I slowly set the glasses down and grab the edge of the sink.

He’s so young, so… clear eyed. He’s not haunted by his demons yet. They’re still alive and standing next to him though. And in that moment, as I look at him, I begin to regret everything. I should have just told Cal that we could do this alone. That we could get to Montfort on our own. We would be at the Rift by now if we had left last night. I should have ignored Jon, I should have said to hell with his meddling, and run. I can’t face Maven again.

Cal is announced. He turns slowly, smiling and waving politely. When he turns to the Samos box, I can see his eyes searching. When he pauses, and makes eye contact with me, I raise my hand in a small wave. His hand barely twitches. It could be a wave to the Samos family and the others Houses will never know it was for me. He turns forward once more, and I turn the sink off.

I told him I could do this, I told him that we were in this together. I can’t leave him now.

In a daze, I leave Volo and Ptolemus their glasses. Even as I climb the stairs, I can’t forget the brief flash of Maven’s eyes. I won’t be able to escape them after this. Inhaling slowly but surely, I return to the servants’ platform. I feel like I can’t breathe. In an hour, I will let myself fall off a platform and into a force field and then, I’ll let myself be betrothed to the man who tried to kill me numerous times. Is this what Cal felt? In the first moment that he had run into Maven, had he felt this rush of emotions? Had his chest felt like it was going to cave in, and his legs were going to fall out from underneath him?

His father is still shouting, completing the announcement of Queenstrial. I dare another look at him. He’s still smiling, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. As every house claims their right to Queenstrial, his smile wavers a little more until it falls so low that he has to brings his lips back up. Just a little longer, I want to tell him.

When his father turns to Lord Provos to order the arena created, Cal’s eyes dance up to the servants’ box, and catch mine. His shoulders rise and fall in what must be a slow, deliberate exhale. He’s searching for control, or maybe a reprieve. He won’t get one until we find Giselle though.

Underneath my feet, the platform lurches, and moves. That’s the last look I’ll get until he finds me in that hallway. The hum of electricity underneath my feet tells me the shield has activated, and the fight has only begun. The floor opens and Rohr appears a moment later. She’s even tinier than I remember. She bats her doe like eyes at Cal, and smiles. She’s little more than a child. So was I though. I’m older now though, and I have the wisdom to back it up.

((((/////////))))

It feels like it has been hours. My eyes burn, and my skin crawls until I feel like I’m going to explode like a live wire. Any longer and I might just throw myself over the railing and into the shield to kick start this whole thing. Evangeline was last, but as the parade continues, I softly set my hand on the railing, prepared to throw myself over.

The minute I think I might actually do that though, the platform at the bottom rises once more, and the sun catches the highlights of platinum blonde hair. My heart beats erratically and a bead of sweat rolls down the back of my neck. Her eyes dart up and around, but her expression is cold. Years ago, I thought that the light in her eyes was malicious. Now I know better. I know that she’s just as disgusted, and irritated with this whole process as everyone else is. Unlike the other girls, she is not seeking out Cal, she is seeking out the crown Elara is wearing. She’s seeking the safety of being queen, where no one will question Elane curling up by her side, and her father won’t be able to order her to do anything. She looks nothing like the woman I remember grabbing coffee with just a few days before I was chasing Giselle down a backstreet.

I wish she was that woman. That would make things so much easier.

Her father calls her name and her ability, and a moment later, I’m summoned to a box. My heart hammers in my chest as I pace down thin hallways to answer the call. Once I step into that box, my fate is sealed. I’m going to have to find something deep within myself. Jon had warned me though, had told me to find the strength to get through this. I have to have some faith. Not in him of course, but in myself. I learned that hard lesson at Corros.

As I gather plates and glasses, I keep my eyes on Evangeline on the screen. She prowls around, searching for something to work with. With a flick of her wrists, and iron studs on her jacket start to move. I can’t help but roll my eyes at the theatrics. And she claims that I’m dramatic. She sets to work destroying the arena while I make my way slowly but surely toward the biggest open space in the box I can find. If she doesn’t tilt the arena, then all of this is for nothing.

Evangeline never disappoints though.

The floor shifts underneath me, and I squeeze my hand into a fist at my side. Even though I know I’m going to be just fine in the next few seconds, it doesn’t mean I want to fall thirty feet into a force field. The box tips, and I force an exhale through my teeth. A body slams into me, and I let myself fall.

It’s a much shorter fall than I remember, so I hit the shield a lot harder than I want. Sparks fly across my skin, and I close my eyes. I feel like a battery getting recharged, and every volt of electricity that burns through me makes me feel whole. The shield wavers underneath me, and I only have a second to push to my knees and spit a curse before it fails completely. I fall the last twenty feet and curl up into a ball as I hit a pile of dust and sand. The blow doesn’t quiet knock the wind out of me, but it still leaves me stunned for a moment.

Shaking myself out as I try to climb to my feet, I glance up at Evangeline. I’d forgotten the look she’d given me the first time she saw me. The mix of terror, horror, and fear is startling. She never looks at me like that again, not even in the Bowl of Bones when I create a storm from nothing. Above us, the rest of the High Houses gasp and murmur.

I swallow as I glance around and then back at Evangeline who takes a tiny step back. I don’t have time to say anything this time, because she throws a hail of metal shards at me. I gasp and throw up a net of lightning to catch them. The shards shriek and burst apart a few feet away from me. I release the net and it explodes out, hitting the far wall behind Evangeline. She throws herself to the side to avoid being hit by any stray bolts.

I hadn’t been that close to hitting her the first time. I grimace, as she whips her head around to look at the hole in the wall before turning her eyes back to me. I would stamp my foot at my stupidity, if Cal’s father didn’t shout for the Sentinels. They bleed out of the shadows in the boxes, and I lick my lips for a moment, tasting the ozone from the shield on my skin. I dare a glance up at Cal who is trying his best to seem surprised by me. Drawing my lips in a tight line, I sprint for the hole in the floor. Just as gun fire explodes behind me, I drop into a slide and go feet first down the hole.

As soon as I hit the ground of the antechamber below, I start into a dead sprint. The cameras follow me, and every one I pass, I destroy. They explode like fireworks around me and rain sparks into the semidarkness.

I make it to the mirrored hall and pause for a second to take heaving breaths. My chest burns and my legs already ache. I dont have much time, but I need to start thinking of a plan—gun fire explodes over my head and I drop to a knee and cover my head as pits of the wall cut across my neck.

Two Sentinels come charging toward me. With a smirk, I charge them. They try to bring their guns up in time, but I drop to my knees and slide between the two of them and throw two well placed bolts of electricity into their hips as I go by. They collapse with a clang of metal, and I scramble to my feet, sprinting once more. At least the hallways are familiar enough to me that I don’t have to stop to think about where I’m going. I only hope that Cal’s memory is as good as mine.

I end up in a hallway, panting and a worried that I’ve taken a wrong turn somewhere. How far away is Cal? Had it been a mistake to knock out the cameras on my way here? Maybe that was how he’d found me last time.

Footsteps sound from the hall that connects to the one I’m in and spin into a defensive stance, lightning dancing in my hands. Cal comes around the corner though, his entire uniform askew. He catches himself on the wall and I drop my hands immediately. He approaches quickly and his bracelet sparks before a wall of fire encircles us, successfully obscures us from view.

He reached out for me, and I grab his arm panting, “Don’t have much time, the Sentinels.”

He nods his eyes scanning over my charred uniform. “Elara—”

“I can do this, just don’t knock me out.” I growl as I meet his eyes. There isn’t time for him to play hero or savior right now. He shakes his head quickly and says, “We’ll think of something else.”

“No time. And if you try to dissuade her, she’ll know something is wrong. Let me face her, trust me.”

He looks like he wants to argue more, but the sound of Sentinels shouting on the other side of the fire makes him whip his head around. I grab his cheek and force his eyes back to me. “Everything will be fine,” I assure him with a little smile. He looks even more uncertain, but his jaw tightens in understanding. I let my legs go limp, forcing him to catch me. Cradling me close to his chest he slowly lowers the wall of fire, whispering, “Be brave. I’ll see you soon.”

I let myself hold onto the image of his face for a second longer than I should, but if I do mess up with Elara, I want to at least remember those as his last words.

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owl-quill · 3 years

Text

Random Supernatural x Once Upon A Time Crossover.

Hook catches the Winchester brothers sneaking around his ship, Emma catches Hook probably planning some vigilante justice.

Just some fun crackfic.

Content notes: just some kidnapping and general threatening behaviour

----

“Well. I guess if any boat here is haunted, it’s that one.” Dean pointed out a tall ship with three masts, standing out from the small yachts and fishing trawlers like a yeti at a dog show.

“Huh.” Sam was unconvinced. It was an unusual sight, true, but nothing supernatural. “Let’s not skip ahead, though, in case the guess is wrong.”

They did walk past all ships at the nighttime-deserted piers, Dean keeping his attention on the EMF meter, Sam on the surroundings, in case anyone showed up. No sign of either human or ghost activity, until they got near the tall ship. “It’s not strong, but there’s something.”

“Let’s check more closely, then.”

They walked up the gangplank as quietly as possible, and after a last look around, Sam pulled the sawed-off shotgun loaded with rock salt out of his jacket. Neither of them considered that there might be a living soul on board.

The EMF meter kept an unusually steady readout, leading Dean to give it a few sharp taps in case it was somehow stuck.

After walking to the stern and bow and back to the main deck again, and short, quiet deliberation, they decided to check below deck. The stairs below were only just visible in the lights of the harbour, and once they were below they would be able to use flashlights without having to worry too much about passers-by getting suspicious.

The second Dean was distracted fumbling the flashlight out of his pocket, there was a thump from Sam’s direction, followed by Sam’s body tumbling down the stairs, crashing into Dean’s legs and throwing him off balance. He hit the deck, flashlight and EMF meter scuttering away, and tried to turn on his back and go for his gun. There was a figure practically flying down the stairs, and the last thing Dean registered was a boot to his head.

***

“Hey, mate, time to wake up!”

With someone’s hand grabbing his face and shaking him, Sam was conscious very suddenly, head spinning. Trying to sit up and push away whoever it was did not work so well, what with his hands and legs tied. Also, “What the hell, where are my clothes?”

“I have confiscated your personal effects, seeing how you boarded my ship with obvious ill intent, and a considerable number of weapons.” The guy got up to hang up the lantern - one with a candle in it - he was holding, giving Sam a moment to take in his getup. A leather coat, black, with matching waistcoat and pants, and when he stood Sam got a pretty good look at the steel hook he used for his left hand, leaving no doubt he was not merely holding it. Great, unless this was an unusually solid ghost, he had been found by a weirdo who liked to dress up as a pirate. And they hadn’t even agreed on a cover story for sneaking onto a ship. Damn.

“Where’s my... partner?”

“Alive,” came the cool answer. “For for the moment. And now I believe you should answer some of my questions. Who are you, and what were you doing on my ship?” He fixed Sam with bright eyes, a slight smile on his lips.

“I’m... we were looking for...” Dammit, his head was still spinning.

“If you’ve lost your memories I guess I have no further use for you.” He drew some kind of curved sword, was that a cutlass?

“Whoa, wait, wait.” With the pressure of the blade tilting up his chin, he spoke quickly, giving the alias they had used when checking in to Granny’s. “We were looking for ghosts, OK? We didn’t mean to cause any damage or harm, really.” The wannabe pirate let the blade droop.

“Ghosts? And why would you think there were any ghosts on my ship?”

“The EMF meter, it--”

“That’s the beeping, blinking thing your ‘partner’ carried?”

Sam nodded. “It detects electromagnetic fields. You get electromagnetic fields were there are no electric cables, you probably have a ghost, and it did indicate something on this ship.”

“So some weird contraption being noisy makes you think you have a right to invade someone else’s ship, and incidentally home, yes?”

“Ah... We didn’t expect anybody to be here... or live here.”

The pirate chuckled, and with a grin and a raised eyebrow asked, “So you were planning to shoot ghosts with that gun of yours?”

Oh, what the hell. He didn’t have to believe in ghosts, he just had to believe Sam believed what he told him. “It’s loaded with rock salt. A hit briefly banishes a ghost.”

He squatted to get down to Sam’s eye level. “And doesn’t usually kill humans, just hurts like fire. That’s interesting.”

With a sinking feeling the guy might be crazy enough to use him as target practice to test that theory, Sam swallowed hard, and tried to control his breathing. “Sir, I’m sorry, you’re right, we shouldn’t have been here. But we really meant no harm, and you’ve given at least me a good scare, so how about we call it even? We can check your ship over to make sure there’s no supernatural danger, or we can leave, which ever you prefer. Or you can hand us over to the authorities, of course.”

“Oh, I’m not planning to trouble the Sheriff with you two. I’d like to have some fun for myself.” He ruffled Sam’s hair, grinning wickedly.

Humans. Humans were the worst. Too damn unpredictable.

***

By the time someone approached Dean, he had been awake long enough to come to terms with his situation, including the fact that he probably was not getting out of the manacles - manacles, not handcuffs, for chrissakes! That did not mean he was happy about it.

He glared at the costumed weirdo. “Where’s my brother, you sunnuvabitch?”

“You might want to pretend a little more respect.”

“Or what, you--” He swallowed the rest of the sentence at the sight of Sam’s shotgun pointed right at his face. After a second, he caught himself and looked the weirdo in the eyes, instead of keeping his focus on the muzzle, and went back to glaring.

“Your brother is alive, and not seriously hurt. I’m still trying to decide what to do with the two of you. Why don’t you tell me who you are, and why you are here?”

With no agreed-upon cover story, Dean reached for the same solution as Sam, giving his alias and otherwise telling the truth, curtly. The gun was lowered gradually.

“So this--” the weirdo pulled the EMF meter out of his pocket “--can detect ghosts, yes?”

“Yeah, believe it or not.”

He switched it on and watched the steady readout for a few moments. “Are you sure it detects ghosts in particular?”

“Or, like, electric cables, but this ship looked rather low-tech.”

“Maybe. But what about other supernatural... energies. Magic, perhaps?”

“What? You’re saying your ship is magic?”

“That she is. What would you do about it?”

Dean looked at him in confusion. The moment was interrupted by the noise of something hitting the hull of the ship. In a flurry of coattails, the pirate disappeared.

***

Hook cursed once again his lack of a crew. Not even one reliable man to leave on watch. It was maddening.

“Hey, Hook! We need to talk!” Emma’s voice. With a sigh, Hook revised his plans for his two guests, and hurried to get a rope ladder. He could see a sail peeking over the rail of the Jolly Roger. “You hear me?”

“That I do. Just a minute!”

One she was on deck, Emma got right to the point. “Do you have the two outsiders here?”

“May I ask what led you to that suspicion?”

“Their car is parked near the habour, Ron saw them sneaking around, and this morning there was no trace of the guys or the Jolly Roger, so, call it a wild guess.”

“All right. I have indeed taken prisoner two men who invaded my ship. Would you like to join me in the interrogations?”

“Hook, what were you planning to do to them?”

“I hadn’t decided yet. Under the circumstances, I shall defer to your judgement.”

“The circumstances being, being caught, eh?”

“Among other things.” He dropped his playful amusement and looked at Emma seriously. “They actually believe in supernatural things and might be a danger to Storybrooke. So I’m not sure what you would consider appropriate.”

Emma cursed. “Good to know. Yes, I need to talk to them.”

“Keep them separate, or gather all together?”

“All together. I want this over with.”

Hook led the way into the main hold and bade Emma to wait.

“Uh, hi,” said Sam, flashing a nervous smile.

“Hi.” Emma raised an eyebrow seeing the prisoner stripped down to his boxers, and sent a ‘what the fuck’ look after the captain’s back. When he came back manhandling someone else in the same state, she asked, “You stripped them? Really?”

“Before you judge, let me show you their personal effects.” He deposited Dean next to his brother, catching the look and nod they exchanged. Before getting the stashed items, he made sure that Sam’s hands were still bound tightly.

He fetched the shotgun he had left near the stairs earlier, put it on top of a crate, and pulled a bundle out of one of the lockers. Unrolling the set of clothes revealed a collection of weapons, two small bottles, and a small leather bag, which Hook laid out neatly. “That’s his.” He pointed at Sam.

“Look, I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but it is wrongful imprisonment.”

“Seems more like a citizen’s arrest to me.” Emma put her hands on her hips, making sure the lout saw the sheriff badge pinned to her belt. Hook grinned with delight; It was always nice when the two of them were on the same side.

He continued with Dean’s arsenal, which included two of those modern repeating pistols, several knives, and a beautiful set of lockpicks.

“They also carried this—” Hook added the EMF meter “—and claim it told them there might be ghosts on the Jolly Roger.”

“Jolly Roger? Seriously?”

“Shut up, jerk!”

“Oh, come on, we go looking for ghosts and find some wannabe Captain Hook? What the hell!”

“That’s enough of that!” Emma cut in. “Names. Full story. Now.”

“I’m agent Mercury, this is my, uh, half-brother and partner agent May, with the FBI, we—”

“Yeah, right, and I’m Roger Taylor and he’s John Deacon. Try again.” She sat down on a locker so she could watch them and pulled a cigar box out of her satchel. “I guess if whatever you say is in here, it’s fake.”

“What’s that, Swan?” He looked over her shoulder at a collection of cards with writing and the prisoners’ faces on them.

“Fake IDs. Lots of different names, lots of organisations... They also had an even bigger and weirder arsenal than what you found. They might be more crooked than you were. Are. Whatever.”

Sam heaved a sigh and let his head drop back as far as it would go.

Dean had other priorities. “You broke into my car!”

“Yep.”

“I swear, if you hurt my baby, you’ll regret it!”

“Baby?” The man didn’t strike Hook as the fatherly type, but then, he hadn’t seen him at his best, probably.

“His car,” Sam explained tiredly. After a moment, Hook nodded. Not the pet name he’d pick for his Jolly Roger, but it made sense in principle.

“I asked for your names, guys!”

“Winchester. I’m Sam, he’s Dean.”

“And you are in Storybrooke because...?”

“There’s something off in the area, and we were trying to figure out what. There have been reports of people disappearing, or changing their personality overnight. We... investigate paranormal phenomena.”

“With a whole lot of guns and knives.”

“OK, you won’t believe this, but we’re hunters.” Dean obviously agreed the time for beating about the bush was over. “We hunt ghosts, werewolves, vampires, demons... anything supernatural that’s a threat, we eliminate it.” He held Emma’s eyes for a moment. “Go on, laugh.”

Hook was indeed tamping down an extended chuckle. “What do you say, Swan?”

“This is complicated.”

“It’s all the truth?”

“Absolutely.”

“So why not return the favour?”

“Hook—”

“At your service, your highness!” He swept her a bow.

“What the hell is wrong with you people?”

“Well, he is actually Captain Hook. The real deal. Getting us to believe in supernatural stuff? Nnnnot as tricky as it might be.”

Dean closed his eyes. “We’ve fallen into a vatload of crazies!”

“Dean?”

“What?”

“Remember Dorothy?”

Everyone was quiet for a few moments, then Emma asked, “You met Dorothy Gale?”

“Yeah.”

“All right!” Hook exclaimed. “Now that everybody believes everybody else, all that’s left is deciding what to do with those two dangers to the secrecy of Storybrooke.”

“I can’t decide that alone. Or just with you. How about you take us back to shore?”

“As you wish.”

***

Once Hook had left the three of them below, Sam asked, “He’s... more chipper than I expected from Captain Hook. Is he always like that?”

“No... I guess having someone to kick around put him in a really great mood. Sorry about the sticky situation... But we have an entire town to protect.”

“We have an entire world to protect,” Dean growled.

“We’ll work something out, I hope.”

“Could we please work out us getting our clothes back?”

Emma eyed the arsenal Hook had laid out. “I think I’d rather have some backup first.”

#fanfic #Once Upon A Time #Supernatural #Captain Hook #My posts

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sixth-light · 5 years

Note

I just read your tags on the home inspectors post about the Nightingale-being-a-ghost AU and i just wanted to ask if you have any plans for finishing it? Because when I read those tags I gasped out loud, it sounds like SUCH a good idea.

First of all I need to credit @stardust-rain who told me I should write this, er, several years ago now. I would like to finish it, and occasionally I go back and re-read the bits I’ve written and then get indignant that if I want the rest of it I have to finish it myself????, but I’m currently stuck on 1) a plot, but not TOO much of a plot, and 2) having written most of it pre-THT and Lesley subsequently featuring as an ambiguously terrible friend instead of an unambiguously terrible friend. I have to sort out which she should be.

But, since you’re not the only person who’s asked me about this, have a scene:

The house was so totally un-renovated that the stairs at the end of the back hallway led down to a kitchen in the basement, literally belowstairs. It was a mild spring evening outside, and the building wasn’t too chilly as a whole, but as I descended it got colder and colder – you did expect that in basements, as the surrounding earth insulated the space from warming or cooling, but this was so cold I wished I’d been wearing a jumper as well as my coat. I was getting goosebumps. As I reached the bottom of the stairs, the lightbulb on them gave out entirely, and I was left with just my phone and the dim light coming down from the open door at the top. Which was – judging by the gradual reduction in light – slowly swinging shut.

I don’t believe in ghosts, but I’ve watched the odd horror movie in my time and I’m not immune to getting creeped out, so I fumbled out the mini-LED torch I kept on my keyring – nothing spectacular but good for finding keyholes in the dark. It illuminated an old-fashioned cast-iron stove – gas, not wood. It must’ve been there for at least sixty years. As I ran my torch around the room, trying to get a sense of the space, it ran across a person, standing maybe two meters away from me, on the other side of the wide wooden preparation table that took up the centre of the room. I flicked the torch back, but they were gone.

I’m not ashamed to admit I let out a bit of a yelp. It echoed dimly. There were no other sounds – no footsteps, no movement. Just my breathing.

“Hey,” I said out loud, “The owners have just asked me to take a look at this place, all right? I’m not here to bother you.”

It would be a bother and worse than that, of course, for any poor buggers who were squatting here, but I couldn’t do much about that, and unless there was a secret drug lab down here or something they were unlikely to do me any harm. And I doubted that. It’d been a while since I’d done any chemistry, but I was pretty sure it would smell a lot worse. Cannabis wouldn’t, but there’d be lights. My biggest problem either way would be if the police decided I was responsible for it, never mind that I’d never been here before today.

Nobody answered me, and there was no other noise, but it felt like it was getting colder and colder – there must be a draft down here. I wasn’t sure where from. The click of the door at the top of the stairs finally shutting, as the last sliver of light vanished, sounded like thunder. The draft felt, almost, like someone was breathing on my neck.

I made a judicious retreat up the stairs, which is to say I went so fast I tripped and shinned myself. When I reached the door at the top I was certain for a sickening moment that it was going to be locked, but it opened with only the resistance you’d expect from an old, un-oiled door. I stumbled back out into the hallway, heart pounding, and already ready to laugh at my own moment of panic. I turned around. I should go back down there and –

The door shut itself. Not the slow swing from when I’d been down there, but a firm and final slam. And I heard footsteps, the click and thud of someone in a hard-soled, heeled shoe, going down the stairs. I ran back and pulled the door open again, and shone the torch down the stairs, but – nobody.

The thing was. I could still hear the footsteps.

I shut the door again. I was beginning to get some idea of why the disposition of this place might, as Beverley’s sister had put it, been a matter of some debate.

In an effort to remind myself that everything was fine, and maybe work up the nerve to go back down there – there was a basement door, and maybe somebody had got into the house that way – I looked through the other rooms on the ground floor. They were the victims of some truly terrible sixties carpeting, and don’t even ask about the curtains in the front parlour, but there was no obvious rot or damage. The main problem, so far as I could see, was that there was only one phone jack – in the hall – and I sincerely doubted the place was wired for cable.

The first floor was much the same as the ground, though the rooms were obviously bedrooms – or a bedroom and a study, given the built-in bookcases and the big desk that someone had clearly decided was too much trouble to move in one – plus the bathroom. That was also decidedly of its time; a big claw-footed tub with no shower, and no sockets for an electric razor. But the way the rest of the place looked it seemed like I was lucky to be getting indoor plumbing.

The prickling feeling of being watched had gone, now, and the second floor revealed nothing more than another two bedrooms, both empty, and a box room. The biggest problem with this place was going to be furniture; I didn’t have much. It wasn’t the end of the world, but I’d have to see what I could borrow or scrounge, since I didn’t want to acquire stuff I’d maybe be getting rid of again. Actually, Abdul might not want to take some of his up to Glasgow. I should ask.

I realized I’d pretty much decided to take don’t-call-me-Cecelia’s offer. The kitchen thing had to have been my overactive imagination. I’d go in through the basement door, let some light in. That would fix whatever had gotten me while I was down there. But on my way back down the stairs, my eye was caught by what looked like movement in the study door. Except when I looked properly it was shut, the way I left it.

I went in anyway, and the room was still empty, except for a large old desk which you’d have had to disassemble to get out. I walked over to the window, which overlooked the small back garden. That, too, was clipped and mown and somehow barren, despite the technical presence of grass and shrubs and things. They looked sort of leggy and old. I hoped I wasn’t supposed to look after it – I didn’t know the first thing about gardening; they hadn’t exactly been a feature of the Peckwater Estate and my dad wasn’t the allotment type. (My mum was very clear that she had moved to London to get away from places you had to grow your own food.) But Cecelia had said something about that, hadn’t she? So that wasn’t a problem.

As I looked one of the squares of light illuminating the garden went – somebody closing their curtains or turning a light off – and I turned away. I’d wedged myself slightly in beside the desk to look down at the garden properly, and as I wriggled back out my foot nudged something under it. It was hard, so I thought it was a bottle or some other piece of detritus, but it turned out to be a walking cane, the kind that you might see on an earlier episode of Downton Abbey. It was carved from a dark wood, with a silver top only distinguishable as such by its thick coat of tarnish. It covered my hand in dust and gunk, picking it up, and then I didn’t know what to do with it; I left it lying on the desk.

There was another draft in the study, as bad as the one in the kitchen, though at least it didn’t feel like someone breathing on my neck this time; just cold.

“Fuck,” I muttered, and rubbed the back of my neck. If the insulation was this bad – but it was spring, coming into summer; I wasn’t going to be here in winter. It probably wouldn’t make any difference. And free accommodation was, after all, free.

There was a dull thud as the cane rolled off the desk and back onto the floor, to trip up the next passer-by - probably me. I propped it up against the side of the desk, instead, and this time it stayed.

I still needed to go and check the kitchen again, but – worst case I could eat a lot of takeaways. The kitchen could wait until morning, or whenever I came here next. Whatever I thought I’d seen down there, I hadn’t.

I re-armed the alarm system on the way out, to be polite. Also to be polite, I called out “See you later!” as I left.

Nobody answered.

#rivers of london #my fanfic #haunted house au #peter grant #thomas nightingale #molly from the folly #molly is also a ghost #because molly makes such an excellent terrifying ghost #albeit one who can be mollified (heh) with good kitchen habits #...eventually #Anonymous

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pi-cat000 · 5 years

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MSA time travel idea (part 29)

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, Vivi POV, 8, 9, 10, Lewis POV, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, Lance POV 18, 19, Lewis POV 2, 21 , 22, Vivi POV 2, 24, 25 Lewis POV 3, Mystery POV , Vivi POV 3

Part 30: here

Clank. The screwdriver clatters on the concrete, impossibly loud for something so small. Arthur grimaces at the noise, attention jumping up to the workshop door in guilty anticipation. When several seconds pass and his Uncle doesn’t come barging in to deliver a lecture on how he shouldn’t be sneaking into the workshop without permission, Arthur returns to the half-constructed box of plastic and wire he has positioned on the desk before him.

He squints in the dimming light. The sun has almost set, casting a small square of orange light on one half of the workbench. Arthur is hesitant to open the garage doors or switch on the main lights, knowing it would tip off his Uncle. An unusual lack of clients that week had left the garage wholly empty and the benches clear. Even Uncle Lance, who practically lived at the workbench, is out, giving him the window needed to finish his current project.

The project? Fix his Uncle’s old VCR. Then Lance would finally be able to re-watch all those old wrestling tapes he kept boxed, gathering dust, up in his room. The VCR, broken for as long as Arthur could remember, had been a permeant fixture of the living room until relegated to the shed out back. Arthur has his doubts on how enjoyable he would find watching two men role around or whatever they did in pro wrestling, but his Uncle probably kept the tapes around for a reason. The point of a gift was to do something nice for someone else. So far, he has pulled the whole thing apart, spotted then fixed the fault, and is fitting it back together again. Not like the VCR is super complicated. Not like the computer, which had been a lot harder to reassemble. Uncle Lance had not been pleased about that one. “Arthur!” The sudden address almost has him knocking the whole thing to the ground. He doesn’t, but it’s a near miss. “What have I told ya about messin around in here!” Arthur jumps up, dropping the screwdriver out of sight onto the seat. Not that the small action helps him any. Not with the incriminating mess spread across the workbench. “I’m not!” He blurts. His Uncle folds both his arms and gives him that unimpressed, ‘you’ll be grounded in your room for the next week if you don’t start explaining quickly,’ look. Despite Arthur now being almost the same height as Lance, the other man seems awfully tall when he’s angry. “I mean…I’m not ‘messin around’ I know exactly what I’m doing. Also, I’m only using the tools, none of the electrical equipment, just like you said. What’s dangerous about that? Not like I’m about to stab myself with the screwdriver.” He quickly delivers the pre-prepared excuse before his Uncle can start lecturing. More unconvinced frowning. The arms remain crossed. Maybe he should have skipped the ‘stab myself with a screwdriver’ part. Lance didn’t think Arthur dumb enough to do something that stupid right? Right? “Is that the VCR?” His Uncle spots the partially assembled project. So much for the gift being a surprise. Arthur clears his throat, “Yeah. I found it in the shed.” Anything in the shed was free game. “What the fuc…ah…heck ya doing to it?” Lance's next expression is more confusion than anger. Confusion is good. Arthur can work with confusion. “Fixing it,” Arthur can’t help but feel a little proud, “I just need to put the casing back, and it’ll be done.” “What for? We don’t own any tapes?” Pride becomes awkwardness, and he looks down to the ground, “Ah…what about the ones in your room?” His Uncle coughs, “Those old things? Ya’d hate wrestling.” “Yeah? I mean…I fixed it so you could watch them…” He trails off, suddenly embarrassed. His Uncle goes quiet. Why had he thought this was a good idea again? Of course, his Uncle didn’t want to watch the tapes. If he had, he would have bought a new VCR or got their one fixed by a professional. It’s not like it was expressive or anything. A weight lands on his head, and Arthur is treated to the sensation of a hand ruffling his hair. “Yeh a good kid,” His Uncle mutters before speaking louder, “I’ve been tryin to fix that thing for a good while. How long did it take ya?” The embarrassment evaporates, and Arthur lets himself grin, attention jumping up as he rushes to answer the question, “Like…four hours. I know, that’s a long time, but it took me way longer to disassemble it than I thought it would. I had to make notes and stuff because I only had the instruction manual to work from, and I didn’t want to mess up and not be able to put it back together.” He gestures at the paper-strewn workbench. “Not what I…” His Uncle starts then grunts in amusement, “That’s impressive.” Arthur feels his chest inflate and his back straighten. Impressive. His Uncle thought it was impressive.

“But you’re not getting outta trouble that easily. From now on, tell me when ya want ta use the tools…” Arthur is too happy to properly register the rest of the lecture. He is happy, right up until… “Stop. Ugh.” …His Uncle’s voice cuts off abruptly. Confused, Arthur tries reacting, but finds himself frozen, stuck staring at this Uncle’s still expression. Wind, birds, the hum of the workshop’s generator: it all drops away. Silence. The world shifts sideways, sunlight dimming. Reds, browns, and oranges are replaced with shades of grey, colour draining from the walls and floor. “Yuck,” The third, familiar, voice continues, “Enough of the mushy sentimental nonsense. It’s giving me a migraine.” Arthur, abruptly able to move, recoils violently to the side, stumbling back and spinning to face sound. Relaxed in the work chair adjacent to the bench, is a recognisable figure. A second Arthur. Green skinned, twirling the screwdriver idly between two fingers, it gives him a lazy wave. “Sup,” The creature greets jovially. A memory. This was a memory just like with Lewis and The Cave. The realisation hits him in the chest, taking his breath away, ripping the energy from his limbs. Arthur is not ten years old, avoiding homework, presenting Uncle Lance with his latest endeavour. That was the past. A memory. Grief and disappointment travel through his every cell, coiling painfully about his heart before sinking into greyed-out workshop floor. Arthur’s attention drifts to his Uncle who is still frozen, face morphed between a stern frown and half-crocked smile. This is the present. His own personal hell. “Personal hell? That’s a bit much,” The demon laughs, amused, pointing the screwdriver at him, “Humans. Kill one relative, and it’s like the word’s ending. You’re all so dramatic.” “Why are you here?” Arthur hastily retreats across the room, putting his back against the door. Between him and the doppelganger stands the frozen, desaturated silhouette of his Uncle. Whereas before, in the memory, Arthur had been shorter and barely reaching his Uncle’s eyeline, now, he is standing a head taller. Still dressed in the oiled work shirt and pants he’d be wearing for the last twelve hours, Arthur's mind churns trying to compute events around him. These are same clothes he had been wearing when…when he had… “What did you do?” He snaps, trying and failing to stop his voice from shaking. The pain weighs on him, deadening any other observations. He’d like to return to the blissful unawareness of the memory, please. Why is the bastard demon ruining even that? “Me?” The demon scoffs, “I didn’t do anything. You came here all by yourself. A mental safehouse of sorts. It happens now and then. I call it ‘ignoring reality’ but whatever, same difference.” “Can’t imagine why I��d want to ignore reality. What a mystery. How will you ever figure it out?” Arthur retorts, lacing in some sarcasm, feeling along the door for the handle. A patronising grin, “No need to be rude. We’re supposed to be a team here. It wouldn’t be right if I just let you hide out and waste away back here.” “Why not. You have my body, what else do you want?” Arthur finds and tries the handle, jiggling it about. It is stuck fast. Funny, this door didn’t have a lock in the real world. Arthur could just scream. “Our body. OUR.” The demon stands, chucking the screwdriver down. The screwdriver’s blue handle turns grey like the rest of the environment, and it clanks once on the desk before freezing. “In all honestly? I get lonely, driving around all by myself. Being stuck in a cave for a century or two will do that to a guy. Sure, the whingeing is a little annoying, but hey, what’s a road trip without friends.” “You killed...” He swallows the sentence. It’s too painful to say. “We are not friends.” “Ouch.” The demon stalks closer, green eyes flashing, “Now that one really hurt…” Arthur stills, dread growing exponentially. The room suddenly feels tiny and very constricting, like it is shrinking in on him, forcing the two of them closer together. “…and after all the fun we’ve had. That’s despite exceptional levels of restraint on my part. I’ve killed, what, two or three people? That’s nothing.” They are now a half meter a part, and, despite being almost identical, the demon looms up over him. “Take it from the expert. This,” A loose but pointed gesture towards the frozen memory of his Uncle, “can always get worse. For instance, Lew’s family, I can kill them quickly or slowly. I’m leaning towards quick, more time to hit the road, but hey if I need to prove a point…” “NO!” “…I will.” Arthur’s yell bounces abnormally around the empty workshop. In attempting to inch along the wall and give himself room, he has managed to back himself into a corner between two shelving units. Now, he’s boxed in with the doppelganger standing far to close. Body language nonchalant, at odds with an unnaturally blank expression, the threat hangs in the silence. “So enough of this. How about you join me up front." A hand is extended, accompanied by an abrupt smile. Green eyes half-closed with delight it sings, “It’s what you’ve always wanted.” Yeah, when he was with his friends and having fun maybe he had once wished to spend more time up front driving with Lewis and Vivi. After all this, it seemed so dumb to want something that stupid. Arthur studies the ground, stalling, increasingly dismayed. The grey concrete is speckled with small pot-marks from where he or his Uncle have dropped tools or equipment. What he doesn’t want is to be subjected to strange emotions or stuck with his own thoughts, trapped, watching this thing continue to rip his life apart. When had wanting anything ever worked out well for him? Not like this decision mattered anyway. It was just an illusion of choice. The demon could pull Arthur out any time it wanted. His hand twitches up. Obviously, he’s moving too slow, because there is a sigh of inflated irritation. A hand slaps over his wrist. Before Arthur can flinch, the world dissolves. There is a yanking sensation, then light, sound, and smell return. The van materialises around him. The seats are firm, indented from use, there is the lingering smell of greasy food, and sound of an idling engine. Arthur is briefly stunned into non-thought, mind running a blank, while he deals with the stimulation onslaught alongside a disorientating deluge of conflicting foreign emotions. Of course, after he acclimatises, the despair it right there to swallow him up again. Hopelessness is a heady darkness, eating him up, leaving him with barely a coherent thought. It makes him tired. Dully, Arthur notes their location as they turn onto the highway, having just been stopped in a rest area. Nice to know he’d been enough of an inconvenience that the demon had needed to pull over and fish Arthur out of his memories. An inconvenience. That was the extent of his ability. Story of his pathetic life. While Arthur wallows in his failures, he idly notes the road as it curves ahead, recognising a collection of stone bluffs passing on the right. He knows this section of highway. They are on their way to Kingsman Mechanics. Home or to what was once his home. Maybe, if he unexpectedly tries to wrestle for control at just the right moment- perhaps on the tricky turn coming up, -he can send the van flying. Take them both out. At this point, Arthur is willing to try anything to save Lewis’s family. Road safety be damned. The road dips down into a tight turn. Arthur tracks the van’s progress. Right on the road’s bend, Arthur throws his weight against the nothing and space restraining him, trying to get some response. He, maybe, manages to freeze the body for a millisecond before getting shoved aside with disgusting ease. “You know. If this body dies, I’ll still be here. You’ll be gone for good though,” The demon comments conversationally, shrugging their shoulders in a ‘what can you do’ movement. ‘Bet there’s a reason you don’t ride around in a possessed corpse.’ Another failure. Add it to the list. “Aside from the fact that I have standards.” A laugh. “I mean, hey, one of us needs to.” More amusement at his expense. Arthur winces and doesn’t bother engaging further, choosing instead to sink down and wrap himself in his blanket of misery. His only consolation is that this pain is all him and not the demon. The demon is still feeling a mix of satisfaction and enjoyment. Small potatoes when put up against his own overwhelming desolation. When it comes to negative emotions, even without his body, Arthur has the bastard beat. It is not much of a consolation.

Part 30: here

#MSA #mystery skulls animated #fanfiction #fanfic #arthur kingsmen #the demon?#angst #suicidal thoughts #depression #Arthur bad times continue #well this is depressing #emotional disorientation #possession #dark

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ythmir-writes · 5 years

Text

A Thousand Mended Seams ch03

fandom: Ikemen Sengoku character: Ieyasu Tokugawa

brief summary: Ieyasu goes to fix a Ward. But something seems to have been waiting for them.

A Thousand Mended Seams masterlist: prologue // chap 01 // chap 02

other works // ao3 // ko-fi

no warnings

Chapter 3/?? – Dousing

When Ieyasu and the others had first migrated to the City, all of the City’s Kapitans – or the Liga, as they were collectively called – had welcomed them.

On three conditions.

Not because their reputation preceded them but more because that has always been the arrangement; all Cities must receive back the protection they give. Those were the rules, and the City had named its price. Services to be rendered; bodies to be kept; favors exchanged for further favors.

The third condition was special. Tailored in a way for the unique conditions of their group: Ieyasu Tokugawa, famed sorcerer, potions master, and third unique timeshifter, the Stag Duke who Remembers, must paint the City’s wards.

Embarrassing titles aside, Ieyasu had jumped at the recognition of his talent and the rare opportunity to practice his craft on such a large scale. How many magicians in this day and age could claim that they were singlehandedly tasked with such a grand project?

However, after the joy of being commissioned had settled down, Ieyasu had thought it a rather unusual request.

In the usual course of protecting and setting barriers for a city, it was the local magicians that painted the wards. They were the ones who had the flavor of the city at the tip of their tongues, or rather hands, after all. And they were the ones who knew best how to bend and curate the magical protection unique to a location.

When Ieyasu had mentioned his doubts to Nobunaga, that he might not be the best sorcerer for the job, Nobunaga had only smiled and told him to just do his best. When Ieyasu had added that the Liga asking their group to set up necessary protection was only the Liga being more indebted to them – and dangerously so – Nobunaga’s smile had only widened, told him not to worry about it and leave it at that.

So Ieyasu had left it at that, and proceeded to do his best and beyond – painting all fifty-six of the City’s wards at strategic locations to create a web of protection so intricate that should the time come that they glowed at the same time, the City would become a sparkling gem.

Ieyasu had taken two whole months to complete the project and by the end of it, nearly swore off any chalk, charcoal, ink, and spray paint for half a century. To make sure he would not need to touch any marking instruments again unless it was completely necessary, Ieyasu had made the wards as permanent as magically possible. It had taken just a tad bit more time but it made them stronger and just a little bit more smudge-proof than most. It was his life’s greatest work to date.

So it was curious how anyone could tamper with them – much less prevent him from sensing that something was amiss. It was not impossible (nothing was truly permanent after all) but it did mean that there was serious magic involved.

Ieyasu worried about that.

Mitsunari seemed to worry about it too, his hands uncharacteristically fidgeting at moments while they rode the bus.

When they reached the block where the grocery was located, Ieyasu could feel a few wisps of magic in the air; something hot, burning, with just a hint of something electric, and the sound of popping bulbs.

But as they entered the parking lot, suddenly nothing. Just empty space.

Ieyasu chewed his lip again, pushing his hands deeper into the pockets f his coat. Sensing nothing was much more concerning than sensing too much at the same time.

He was not sure what he expected to see waiting for them but Masamune and Hideyoshi in the middle of an empty parking lot standing idly and chatting while waiting for him was definitely not on the list. It made a rather casual scene, and it looked as if the ward being smudged was not an emergency enough for the Liga to raise an alarm.

Masamune waved from where he stood and Hideyoshi turned around to greet them.

“What’s this?” Ieyasu asked as they came within earshot. “I heard ambulances, police cars – this doesn’t look like an emergency.”

“I did say that part was over.” Masamune said, pocketing his phone.

Hideyoshi sighed, crossed his arms. “The hubhub is over and done with. But our job isn’t.”

Ieyasu gave their immediate surroundings a sweeping glance. There was no signs of any struggle, none of the drunken fighting that had supposedly transpired. As a matter of fact, apart from the four of them, nothing seemed to exist within twelve feet from where they stood.

“What happened?” Ieyasu finally asked.

“Werewolf pups. Long night. Some sort of initiation? Ritual? A newborn Were?” Hideyoshi looked at Masamune, who in turn shrugged. “Their oldest was in charge and he was being pretty vague. Stories were completely inconsistent.”

“Clearly drunk, too.” Masamune added.

“In any case, the pups were sent directly to the police station for questioning and possible detention overnight.” Hideyoshi continue. “They’re not in any state to be wandering about.”

At that, Ieyasu raised his brows. He had half-expected the culprit to be strong and old magic, not were-magic. “Werewolves?” He asked. “Smudging my ward?”

“Pack magic?” Mitsunari sounded partly shocked partly curious.

Masamune raised his hands, equally baffled. “We’re not sure either how it happened. They didn’t have an Alpha with them. According to the pack, one thing led to another and then one of the pups slid down across the cement like it was ice. Next thing they knew, she had paint on her paws when there shouldn’t be and then there was only pain.”

“Ahh.” That would explain the ambulance Ieyasu had heard when Masamune called.

Part of the formula that gave the wards their permanency was how any disturbance or tampering could not be made by simple physical means. No matter how often the wards could be painted on, rained on, marked upon, or even slathered with concrete and made into a busy parking lot on, the Ward stayed. Like stubborn graffiti, or tough grime. Or really old chewing gum stuck on a wall.

If anyone attempted to disturb it, the Ward would react defensively. Mostly depending on how much of the Ward was affected. Like a good punch to the gut, if the Ward had not been completely nullified. Violently, if it was completely erased. The point wasn’t so much as to stop the ward from being tampered – that was near impossible – as it was to make sure Ieyasu would know who to look for. Traces of his magic from the erased Ward would stain whoever did it and Ieyasu, along with possibly Nobunaga, would follow the trail to ask some very serious questions.

Ieyasu looked around the parking lot a second time. Nothing. No trace of anything. Like something had gobbled up –

“Did the werewolf pup die?” Mitsunari asked.

“Nah. Had to be rushed to the hospital though.” Masamune said. “She got concussed. Thrown what, fifteen meters? Ward shot out some really fierce lightning too. The Kapitan here made sure the Alpha was on their way to reach the pup.”

Ieyasu could imagine how it had happened. “Did the Alpha ask for reparations?”

Hideyoshi made an impatient sound. “If anyone should be asking for reparations, it should be you. It’s your ward. Commissioned by the Liga, no less.”

Hideyoshi was right, however Ieyasu found the idea of claiming reparations from a were-pack tedious. It was not like he could not fix the problem to begin with.

But something did not feel right, like he was missing an obvious clue. “To smudge any ward discreetly without the warder knowing, you should know it’s there in the first place.”

His three friends nodded. That was basic knowledge.

Ieyasu chewed on his lip again, looking around the parking lot as if the perpetrator would unwittingly try to come back while they were there. “The wards’ locations are not public knowledge. No one except us and the Liga know. How did the werewolves know where it was? How could they smudge it without me knowing?”

“They claim it was all an accident.” Hideyoshi’s eyes told Ieyasu he did not believe it. “We suspect someone might have accidentally tampered with it before the werewolves got their hands on it. We’re requesting the tapes. We got eyes there, there, and there.” Hideyoshi pointed to the streetlamps that had security cameras. “Whoever could have done something to it, consciously or not, would have been recorded.”

“It’s a good thing too the place is currently closed.” Masamune said. “Can you imagine the collateral damage a shocked werewolf pup in pain could have caused? Without an Alpha trying to calm it?”

Hideyoshi and Mitsunari’s frowns meant yes, they could. And so did Ieyasu. It was not pretty or even relatively safe for anyone who was not part of the pack. It would be a longer night for all of them if that had happened.

“Nothing to be done about what didn’t happen.” Ieyasu then said. “I’ll start on the ward.”

“How long will you need?” Hideyoshi asked.

“Depends.” Ieyasu began to walk fifteen steps to his right, counting as he did. “But seeing as the werewolf pup isn’t dead and we don’t have the City’s packs howling for blood, I’d say maybe twenty.”

“Mitsunari and I will get the tapes.” Masamune said, heading for the store, quickly followed by the other.

“Be careful!” Hideyoshi shouted at them.

Ieyasu stopped just a short way from another street light, its bulb broken, probably from the Ward’s reactions to being disturbed. He knelt down on one knee, and began poking at the concrete with two fingers, trying to feel for the center of the Ward.

Before being cemented over, the entire block had once been just a small empty park, a splash of green in a city transforming into a sprawling metropolis. Back then, Ieyasu had simply walked towards the middle of it all, found a good rock, sprinkled the ingredients over the soft, fresh grass under it, and the Ward had come to life.

Right now, it was not going to be just as easy.

Ieyasu found the center about two feet from where he started, a minor zing that raced up his arm and went all the way down his spine and up again towards his nape. Tiny crackling sounds, electricity snapping at air, and then there was a warm glow as the Ward recognized him and his magic.

Ieyasu pulled with his mind, coaxing the Ward to resurface. Slowly, the place where he knelt glowed with a bright teal color, as if neon lights had flickered open beneath the ground.

He brought out his supplies: a small paint brush, a small bottle of ink, a pack of mint candies, a parking stub, and three used cigarette butts. Back then, it had all just been flower seeds, bird feathers, and maybe drops of sweat and tears. All of them, even magic, had to keep up with the times.

“What’s the diagnosis?” Hideyoshi asked.

“It’s smudged all right.” Ieyasu said. “Almost a third is all that’s left, just wiped out clean. Werewolf magic is strong, pack magic stronger, but not erasing-wards-with-a-simple-swipe-of-paws kind of strong. Even with a full moon. Or several.”

“The Liga wants to know if you can fix it.”

“With my eyes closed.” Ieyasu answered, bemused. “Did they really ask that?”

“Yes. You should’ve seen the look on the Kapitan’s face when they saw what caused all the alarm.”

Ieyasu frowned. Why doubt his abilities after everything he has done?

“We got the tapes.” Masamune called out as he walked back towards them, with Mitsunari in tow who in turn was grasping his backpack tightly with both hands, smiling brightly at them.

“All right.” Hideyoshi said. “It’s your floor now.”

“You might want to stay back a little.” Ieyasu placed the pack of mint, the parking stub, and cigarette butts in the middle of the Ward, covered them with the plastic bag, wrapped it around thrice. Then, he dipped his brush into the black ink, took a deep breath and –

The sun searing into his back as he walked across the lot, long lines at the cashier and even longer queues of vehicles snaking around the small space, the smell of newly painted pedestrian crossing, paper bags rolling empty in the wind, a crash of – I can’t believe you forgot to get tissue rolls again! mum said I had to wait in the car it’s inhumane to leave a pet under this weather and didn’t I tell you to park it nearer do you know how much two bags weigh – gum chewed until the mint turned into ash and there was nothing but the lingering smell of cigarette smoke and the pairs of eyes that watches watches watches you enter and cross and leave and don’t forget your coupons and your receipt sir please –

Ieyasu gathered the sensations into him, channeling them through his body, turning them into energy and magic and pushing them back out again into his brush as he wrote the protective seals that formed the Ward.

That was all there really was to Warding; take the rules of life around an area, those repeated actions done again and again and again, those that form life through repetition, and became rituals in their own right – and gather them and mix them and pray they help keep the place safe.

Take a parking lot, for example. Walk in any country, any city, any small town anywhere in the world, and grocery parking lots basically worked the same way. You got a parking ticket, or stub, depending on where you were in the world, you chewed on gum when you waited, maybe you have a cigarette or two or three – because damn the line is long and there’s plastic everywhere and did you forget that corned beef brand your mum told you to get and were you even counting your change? Little things that were universal. Little things that make up the experience. Little things that, if you knew how to capture them and knew how to bend them, you could create a ward to protect it all.

At least, for sorcerers, that was how it worked. You found magic in life. You breathed it. And you channeled it to work for you.

But you have to know how to listen to it first.

Ieyasu opened his eyes and was just about to put in the final seal to finish the ward but suddenly, something hissed – at first a whistle then before any of them could pinpoint where the sound came from, it turned into a loud screeching roar.

“Get away!”

Ieyasu felt more than saw Hideyoshi – ever alert, ever careful – pull him back with a gesture of one hand. Then the concrete underneath both of them caved down nearly three feet, to avoid whatever it was that had swiped at them from above.

A frustrated screech, the sound of train wheels magnified several times and the urgent thud thud thud of metal on metal.

“Incoming!” Mitsunari alerted them.

Ieyasu saw the car, a small dark spot in the sky becoming bigger and bigger, and then his line of view was blocked by Hideyoshi again, who had moved in front of him, arms moving upward. As if summoned, the lights from the remaining streetlamps all flew towards the car, impaling it before making it explode into harmless chunks. Bits of car parts rained down in a noisy clack clack clack.

“Another one!” Masamune shouted, tracing the arc of the car with his ancient katana. Ieyasu clicked his tongue. Masamune would use any excuse to wield his sword again and a flying projectile was enough of one. Masamune swung in a lazy arc, blue light pulsed from his sword and cut the second car in half, which fell in a loud crash.

“What the hell is going on?” Ieyasu shouted, scrambling to his feet. The magic of the ward was slowly ebbing from his mind. If they did not act quickly, he would have to start the ritual again. That was the downside of being a sorcerer; it was pretty hard to concentrate on doing magic while you were being distracted by projectiles. “Mitsunari?”

Mitsunari was looking towards the other side of the parking lot. “I’m seeing one spirit. One very big and angry spirit.”

“What kind?” Ieyasu asked.

“Anger, movement, a solid core, the desire to sleep and wreck havoc. Poltergeist or Kanaima.” Mitsunari said, squinting. “I’m not sure which from here.”

“Why is there a spirit?” Hideyoshi asked over the sound of another car falling in bits and pieces around them. “There was absolutely nothing in this parking lot when we got here! And we disturbed nothing. Nothing!”

Ieyasu gritted his teeth, an odd sense of déjà vu filling his tongue.

“I’m not sure either.” Masamune was poised to strike. “But oh boy I’m not going to wait to find out!”

“Wait!” Ieyasu tried to hold Masamune off but it was too late. Reckless, aggressive, so very very sloppy in watching his back, Masamune shot off like a bullet towards the spirit.

With a frustrated grunt, Ieyasu held out his hands. “Mitsunari!”

“Here!” Mitsunari did not need any other instruction. Mitsunari, purple-eyed and pale, whose soft features belied the fact that he was the most precise sorcerer among them, who saw with cat’s eyes and spoke to foxes, who needed only flick a wrist and there was wind beneath Ieyasu’s feet and he flew towards Masamune who had just barely reached the spirit –

“Kanaima!” Masamune announced. “We got ourselves a vengeful spirit!”

Ieyasu landed with a grunt, shifting his knees to soften his fall, his hands touching the ground. Instantly, teal colored lights zigzagged towards Masamune, coating him in a ward for protection.

And it was just in the nick of time. Masamune had raised his sword to strike but the kanaima had roared and it sounded like trains colliding in the underground. Hot and angry smoke billowed towards them, and both men braced themselves against it.

More smoke blew from the holes of what looked like the kanaima’s mouth and eyes. Its entire body was black liquid, dripping and dripping like oil and tar and muck, and every time it moved, something seemed to spark inside it.

The kanaima arched towards them, raising its hands and swiping at them, howling in a garbled tongue. Masamune deflected the blows with his sword and tried to strike back. But no matter how much he cut, his blade did nothing to the kanaima, which simply roared again, irritated that it could not pin Masamune down.

“This is what you get for being reckless!” Ieyasu shouted at him while he searched for his bag for his left-over containers.

“We all need exercise!” Masamune shouted back.

“Masamune! We are literally going to be sucked into a vortex of doom if you’re not careful!” Ieyasu wrapped his hand around a bottle, prayed fervently it was his extra round of blessed water, and took out his hand from the bag. “We got one shot –”

Then as if it had had enough, the kanaima slammed down its hands. The ground shook violently, large cracks cutting through the parking lot and Ieyasu staggered for even footing. Somewhere a pipe blew and water hit him square on the back, soaking him and blurring out the sound of the kanaima’s screams.

Ieyasu wondered if the night could not get any worse.

Masamune charged, sword glowing in golden light, and managed to cut one of the kanaima’s arms, sending the spirit in a frenzy all over again. Ieyasu scrambled to his feet and then cursed under his breath. The kanaima’s torn arm simply dissolved into steaming pool of black tar, smelled of despair and death. Then the kanaima regrew an arm. Two. And then three and four. And Ieyasu raced towards Masamune, pushing the bottle of blessed water in his hands.

“One shot.” He said through gritted teeth. “Dead center in that glowing bit right there. Make it work!”

“Three.” Hideyoshi squeezed in, suddenly beside them. “Mitsunari and I have extra.”

Ieyasu whirled to see Mitsunari several feet away, hands planted on the ground and doing his best to counter whatever earth shattering chaos the kanaima was doing.

Thank all the gods for Mitsunari –

“You’re the only one unprepared.” Ieyasu hissed, would have shook Masamune if they were not so busy running from the kanaima’s reach. “I told you to always always bring condiments – !”

“Focus!” Hideyoshi peeled away from them, pointed at the kanaima, holding his wand now and blasting a beam of light at it. Hideyohsi’s spell tore a hole through the monster’s shoulder for two seconds, before it filled up again with blackness and the night. The kanaima aimed for Hideyoshi – missed – and Hideyoshi rebutted with two more beams of light.

All the while, Masamune was going for the kanaima’s left, flanking him.

As if sensing their teamwork, the kanaima’s gaze shifted towards Masamune then back to Hideyoshi. It screamed and grew three more pairs of long, spindly arms.

Masamune swore. Hideyoshi doubled his efforts. In response, the kanaima grew in size, as if gathering more energy, and turning them into more arms and legs than they could bother to keep count.

Ieyasu planted his hands on the ground, called on his ward, and got to work.

They say kanaimas were vengeful spirits. Those who died violently come back with murder spewing from their hands, and unanswerable questions where their hearts had once been. Anger. Sadness. A dying scream stifled too soon, too abruptly. There was no appeasing a kanaima. There have been efforts over the centuries; pity always the soul that cannot move on. But all efforts to calm kanaimas have failed. Some debts can never be erased. There was only retribution or death.

Ieyasu’s eyes stung with wind and water but he kept his gaze on the ground. He tuned out the kanaima’s screams, focused on warmth, protection, and guarding light glowing below him, drew out the symbols with the mixture of dribbling mud and broken concrete.

No one knew exactly how to recreate a kanaima by choice, what kind of death had to be suffered, what kind of wish so ardent for the victim to be brought back and chained ever after. Some say that to become a kanaima, you had to be killed by one, sucked into its abyss, drained of all blood and magic and hope. It went without saying that none of them had any intention of letting each other go down that path.

But there was another entry on the kanaima, a footnote he had read once, lifetimes past. Ieyasu scoured it in his memory, lifting it from other memories, something about a desire, a wish, a craving –

And as Ieyasu remembered, it all made sense. The emptiness. The déjà vu.

“Mitsunari!” Ieyasu called upon his friend again. How many times had he relied on him tonight? How many times in so many lifetimes? He could fill a ledger, maybe more. Maybe he should make sure to watch the damn tapes next time with Mitsunari to compensate.

“Lord Ieyasu?” Mitsunari was beside him, smelling of burning hair and lightning.

“Kanaimas are vengeful spirits but there is one thing we’ve forgotten about them.” Ieyasu wrote feverishly on the ground, fingers almost splitting in effort. How in the ever loving hell did Nobunaga ever manage to do sorcery while talking? “They aren’t so much victims as they are often spectators. Made to witness those they love die and be lost before their eyes.”

Mitsunari’s eyes were trained on the kanaima, watching out for Hideyoshi and Masamune, but his ears were all Ieyasu’s.

“This kanaima was triggered by the Were.” Ieyasu said.

“When the Were was rebutted by the ward, the kanaima must’ve seen it.” Mitsunari followed his reasoning. Frowned. “But it does not make sense, Lord Ieyasu. This kanaima is nearly fifty years old. Its vengeance is older – and the pup was a new were, maybe only in its teens.”

“I know. But this is my ward.” And at those words, the ward beneath them glowed, as if proud of its ownership. “A ward that no one should know about except for us. A ward that has been repeatedly attacked and attacked and attacked until – ”

Ieyasu was unable to finish his sentence. One moment, he felt Mitsunari’s hand on his shoulder. In the next, underground pipes burst out from below them, shielding them both from hot smoke and tar.

Mitsunari grunted with effort, curled his fingers and then opened them, and the water turned sharp, piercing, and pushing back the kanaima, its spindly limbs flailing.

Ieyasu was drenched to the bone, his teeth nearly chattering. He could hear Hideyoshi and Masamune close in on the kanaima, fierce magicians attacking and trying to pry open the defenses of an unrelenting spirit at its moment of vulnerability. Ieyasu needed to match them, needed to finish the ward quickly so he could at least be of some help.

Ieyasu rekindled the sensations he had grasped earlier in his head. The everyday details of ordinary people walking to and from the grocery, the waiting and hunting for parking space, the rush of afternoon sales, credit card points, loyalty card points, vouchers, the smell of a typical Saturday afternoon when groceries were packed to the full and you could not even squeeze in to just get into the counter please just this one item ma’am, my daughter needs this she’s going to die please just let me in line I’m just buying one item one item why can’t you let me –

Ieyasu breathed through the kanaima’s seen memories – forced to witness repeated acts of hurting and pain – held himself up above its sorrow, and let it go.

That was why it was very important for the local magicians or sorcerers to do Warding. They who knew the ground and the air and the walks of life and who spoke to the soul of the city and to whom the city talked back. Not fresh immigrants, not a group of six wandering magicians and sorcerers with the crest of an ancient name branded on their backs.

Then again, none of them were strangers to the city anymore.

Perhaps that was why at the moment, the Ward somehow felt stronger. More sturdy, like a wall of doubly reinforced steel. Ieyasu was no longer just a commissioned sorcerer but a living, breathing, part-of-the-city-kind of folk now, and it gave his magic an extra kick.

“Don’t worry about it.” Nobunaga had said. And Ieyasu hadn’t. And Ieyasu didn’t. And maybe Nobunaga had seen that this might happen; that they would stay this long were still here, it was easier to fix them.

Perhaps this was a sign that Ieyasu should touch up on the rest of the wards. He should discuss it with Nobunaga soon.

With a last swipe of his fingers, Ieyasu finished the last stroke, sealing the Ward into place, breathing and willing protective life into it, grasping the tiny threads of what made magic alive in a simple parking space for a local grocery and concentrating them into the defensive circle that now pulsed again with magic.

The ward glowed with its fresh seals. Alive. Almost sizzling.Guarding the place anew. For a few seconds, Ieyasu regarded the glowing Ward with a sense of pride, tracing his bloody fingers around its edges, feeling the magic fuller and more vibrant now.

At almost the same time, Masamune had thrown the blessed water into the kanaima’s vulnerable center, that hot pool of anger and hunger and frustration, and it sizzled on contact. The kanaima howled in pain, thrashing its many legs and arms in an attempt to inflict as much pain as it had just experienced.

However, Ieyasu’s ward was in place and the kanaima could now only do very little. For every attempt the kanaima made to destroy, the Ward answered back with equal fervor, striking at the kanaima with particularly powerful bolts of lightning.

Lightning?

“Everyone out of the water!!” Ieyasu shouted at his friends.

Thank the gods none of his friends were that stupid. Even before Ieyasu could finish what he was saying, Masamune nimbly leapt into the air, higher than what was humanly possible. Hideyoshi pointed his wand below him and he and Mitsunari were lifted up on dry land. And Ieyasu –

Ieyasu was damn well near swimming, drenched from head to toe –

Three things happened very quickly.

First, the lightning, fat and angry and very difficult to follow, lashed out towards the kanaima in retaliation to it striking the ward. The kanaima wailed in screeching agony, a screaming tearing sound of metal against harder metal.

Second, Ieyasu had closed his eyes and braced himself for the inevitable. What was another death for a timeshifter if it meant his friends and the city was safe? And vainly hoped that the ward was smart enough to bounce back from him unharmed. His ward. His sorcery. It was impossible (magic never really recognized masters) but men faced with death often thought impossible things.

Third, something tall and dark had intervened, stepping into the circle of the ward harmlessly, and with a wave of an arm, deflected the lightning meant for Ieyasu, finding a way to turn his impossible thoughts possible.

Ieyasu looked up, and gasped with relief.

Nobunaga Oda stood in front of him, his black coat swirling around his feet in a way that no coat should ever move. Wisps of shadow and black smoke drifted around his ankles. He looked for all the world as if he had just came out for a stroll, a picture of casual perfection amidst the chaos around him.

Nobunaga extended an arm to help Ieyasu up. Ieyasu accepted it without fuss and was lifted with what looked like barely any effort. Then, Nobunaga turned his attention back to the kanaima, adjusting his black gloves as he did.

The kanaima had not yet lost its fight. It shrieked again, aiming for the two of them now. It struck out with all of its remaining limbs and Ieyasu would have braced himself, would have answered back with an attack of his own, except –

Nobunaga was there. And his ward was restored. There was nothing for him to fear.

Ieyasu’s ward glowed at the approach of danger, ready to protect. Nobunaga paid it no heed and instead began to walk towards the kanaima. His coat billowed wildly even if there was no wind, and shadows as dark as moonless and starless nights, darker than the kanaima itself, lashed out to deflect the spirit’s attacks.

Where the kanaima’s limbs were heavy lumber, Nobunaga’s shadows were whips, extending nimbly and cracking like thunder. More and more shadowssnaked out from Nobunaga’s coat, more than the kanaima could counter, more thanthe kanaima could possibly even follow, more than it could possibly defenditself from. Its wail – then angry and frustrated – turned sorrowful, panickyand almost almost as if it was afraid.

Ieyasu gripped his wrist with his other hand.

The kaniama was right to be afraid.

Nobunaga did not relent in his attack as he approached. His shadows struck the kanaima repeatedly, some pining it down, some seemingly tearing at it with a hundred unseen hands. Until it was reduced to lie spread-eagle on the concrete, until it had shrunk and shrunk down to only three feet tall and looked less and less like the destructive spirit it had been just moments earlier.

It tried to crawl away wailing, but there was no escaping its inevitable end.

Nobunaga stood over the kanaima. His shadows climbed into the air, twisted together to form a huge curved blade, and came down striking the kanaima straight in its abdomen, straight through its faintly glowing light, putting it out of its misery. There was a flash of bright light. Then silence.

And just like that, the kanaima was gone. Lifetimes of pain, lifetimes of being an unwilling witness, reduced to nothing in a mere instant.

And not for the first time tonight, Ieyasu felt a pang of something that hurt. He wished there was a better way for them to go, an easier way, a less painful way. But then, where would all that anger go? Where would all that pent-up frustration be channeled into if not in a final display of aimless destruction? A plea for a swift death.

Ieyasu wanted to sit down, and think for a while.

“Lord Ieyasu, you were amazing!” Mitsunari immediately exclaimed, turning back to look at him, beaming with a sense of wonder. “Your performance with wards is top-notch as usual.”

“I was just doing what I normally do.” Came Ieyasu’s automatic response, deflecting Mitsunari’s wide-eyed praise. He felt nothing like amazing and Ieyasu was sure he among all of them was the one who least looked like amazing.

“It appears I arrived just in the nick of time.” Nobunaga said. His shadows were gone, his black coat unmoving as all black coats should.

“Yes you did, Lord Nobunaga.” Mitsunari turned his attention to the other man, and Ieyasu mentally thanked him.

“Lord Nobunaga!” Hideyoshi approached them, all smiles despite being out of breathe, tucking his wand into his inner breast pocket. Masamune was close behind, sword hidden wherever it was that Masamune tucked his weapons.

“We weren’t expecting for you to come.” Hideyoshi continued, almost vibrating with joy.

“I was on my way home and thought something was not right.” Nobunaga said. “But it looked like you were handling it.”

“Sure.” Ieyasu grumbled, running his hand through his matted hair. “And I am a perfect example of someone who was handling it, all right.”

Hideyoshi and Masamune had only soot and a few scratches as proof they disabled a kanaima. Mitsunari looked pristine, his bag not even riddled with any dirt. And Nobunaga – well, he looked like he always did. It would be unfair to Ieyasu to compare himself to them.

Nobunaga chuckled. “You do look a little worse for wear.”

Ieyasu shrugged.

Mitsunari’s smile had not dimmed. “I wish I had my camera.”

Ieyasu shivered. “There’s nothing worth recording.”

“Give yourself some credit.” Masamune slapped Ieyasu’s back and Ieyasu almost toppled back to the ground. “You did in a short time what other sorcerers or magicians do in an hours. Maybe even more.”

“They just need more practice.” Ieyasu deflected again. “Besides, we all did our part.” Ieyasu gave Nobunaga a pointed look. “Some less than others.”

At that Nobunaga chuckled again. Hideyoshi choked in disbelief.

“Of course. The Duke Stag who Remembers, can do it all.” Nobunaga teased him.

Ieyasu hoped the heat in his cheeks was fever and not him blushing at compliments; he never did like that nickname. Too many responsibilities. “Whatever. Look, it’s done.”

And it was. The ward was slowly fading back into obscurity, sinking into the concrete. Ieyasu regarded it one final time before turning back to his friends.

“I’m still confused though.” Masamune said. “Why did the spirit attack us?”

All eyes went to Ieyasu and not for the first time tonight, he felt a little bit overwhelmed at the attention.

Ieyasu would have adjusted his coat if it were not wet and sticking to his skin. “Kanaima’s are vengeful spirits, yes. They’re animated by something that caused their deaths – it fuels them to seek out and execute retaliation.”

But those were basic stuff. Ieyasu dug further into his mind. His friends waited for him to carry on.

“There was a footnote on the kanaima that I’ve read.” Ieyasu continued. “I think around the industrial revolution when the scientific approach to understanding spirits became more aggressive. Someone noticed that the kanaima’s weren’t just the angrier cousins of poltergeists – more like, as part of the consequence of a successful revenge, they don’t move on. They’re forced to see more and more acts of cruelty, pain; the consequences of their action. And they can do nothing to stop it. Again and again and again.”

“How does the ward fit in?” Hideyoshi asked.

“The kanaima must’ve thought the ward reacting to being erased against the Were was a trap. Or something similar.” Ieyasu shook his head. “I don’t think it has anything to do with the ward though. The kanaima simply reacted to the Were being hurt.”

“And it thought we were the perpetrators?” Masamune asked.

“I think so. I repaired the ward. The kanaima attacked as soon as I touched it.” Ieyasu turned to Nobunaga. “Which reminds me, we need to look at all the other wards, reinforce them. Someone or something was able to poke at this one.”

And prevented me from sensing it. Ieyasu wanted to add but he did not want Hideyoshi to panic any more for tonight.

“We’ll put that in the agenda.” Nobunaga looked thoughtful. “But for now, I think we all deserve some rest. It’s been a long night.”

Ieyasu gave him a sidelong glance, wondered how much Nobunaga already knew.

“Right.” Masamune clapped his hands twice. “Now we’ve saved the city again, yes. Congratulations! We have to celebrate!”

“We still have to tidy up.” Hideyoshi reminded them.

Masamune flinched. “Can the Kapitans do this – just this once? Like, can we please just go home right now?”

Ieyasu surveyed the parking lot which looked nothing like how it did when they had first arrived. And someone had to do a lot of explaining with the wrecked cars. He could already imagine the paperwork.

“Please take clean-up seriously.” Hideyoshi frowned at Masamune. “I’ll be heading over the nightwatch HQ and have someone look over the tapes. Then there’s a report we’ll need to make for the Liga. Ieyasu, I need your statements so –”

Masamune made a face. “But we can literally do that in the morning –!”

Ieyasu sighed as the two bickered about which task had to go to whom, when to do the appropriate task, and how Masamune did not again bring at least the basic condiments to work. Ieyasu looked at Nobunaga, who in turn was looking up at the night sky, somewhat pensive, as if he was trying to trace something above them.

Ieyasu looked up as well, saw the stars as they usually were, and was just about to ask what Nobunaga had been looking at when he felt Masamune grab him by his neck, pulling him in for something resembling a hug.

“No. And no. Both of you can do that in the morning. Like, after resting and waking up.” Masamune said. “Ieyasu here needs his beauty rest – ”

At those words, Ieyasu felt ready to fight again. “What does that even mean –?”

“It’s been a long night for all of us – especially Ieyasu.” Masamune mock-frowned at Hideyoshi. “And I call for a late night snack for all of his hard work at the restaurant tonight. And of course, Lord Nobunaga’s here!”

Nobunaga was smiling. “I think I can use some late night snack.”

“Lord Nobunaga!” Hideyoshi placed his hands over his face.

Ieyasu rolled his eyes, tried to put as much as his heart to make it as believable as he could. “You want us to celebrate by making me work again?”

Masamune gestured. “I mean, who else is gonna –”

Mitsunarialmost raised his hand, “I would be very happy to – ”

“No.” Ieyasu grabbed Mitsunari’s arm before Hideyoshi could, pulled it down. “Let’s not go there again.”

Mitsunari angled his head. “But Lord Masamune can’t go into the kitchen and you’re tired Lord Ieyasu and we can’t have Lord Nobunaga cook so it’s only natural – ”

“I’ll do it.” Hideyoshi and Ieyasu said at the same time.

“We will order takeout.” Ieyasu hastily added. “You can just,” he struggled for the words, “rest.”

Mitsunari looked surprised. “But I don’t feel particularly tired.”

“That settles it then.” Masamune grinned from ear to ear, dragging Ieyasu and Mitsunari along. “We’re celebrating working hard and hard work!”

“We have not yet decided on clean-up!”

It had taken a call from Nobunaga for some other local agents of the nightwatch to help with the cleaning. Then after much debate, decided only by a flip of a coin, they stopped by a local burger joint for takeout, moved on to buy drinks (juice for Masamune), and walked back to their apartment which was three floors above their restaurant. They ate and drank for the city, for good health, for their successes, and for the gods to continue smiling kindly upon them all.

By the time they finished, the sun had begun its climb from the Sierra Madre. Ieyasu wanted nothing more than to collapse in his bed and sleep the rest of the day away. The moment his head touched his pillow, he was gone and Ieyasu Tokugawa dreamed of teal colored wards and a woman running hard to catch up on him.

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen ieyasu #a thousand mended seams #atms 03 #ythmir writes #ythmir fanfics

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randomly-random-jen · 5 years

Text

Uncalled For Actions (4/?)

A Girl Genius fanfic

When Gilgamesh Holzfäller is fourteen, he’s taken on as an apprentice to Baron Wulfenbach as part of a program to produce the next generation of leaders in the Empire–a group that will hopefully get along (although most see this as wishful thinking on the Baron’s part).

He’s learned a lot over the months of shadowing the Baron, but nothing has prepared him for his most challenging assignment: confronting the skeletons in his closet. [Part 1 | 2 | 3 | Part 5 ]

Part 4

About half a dozen emotions flitted across Tweedle’s face at that news before he settled back to his barely contained rage.

Gil refused to back down for the obvious intimidation tactic he knew well from his childhood. He brought himself up to his full height which was still nearly a head shorter than Tweedle, chin held high and a practiced, indifferent expression plastered on his face.

Finally, Tweedle stepped out of Gil’s personal space and dusted the front of Gil’s jacket like he was straightening out the wrinkles Gil had already fixed. “The Baron, you say? I heard a rumor about you.”

Gil cocked one eyebrow under his fringe of bangs and crossed his arms over his chest. “Which one?”

“That you’re the orphaned son of homicidal Sparks that went on a rampage, and the only reason you’re an apprentice is the Baron feels sorry for you.”

Gil wanted to laugh–as if his father would give such an important job to someone out of pity. Instead, he shrugged as if the words didn’t bring back loathsome memories. “Close enough.”

As expected from habitual bullies, Tweedle looked even more annoyed that he didn’t get a rise out of Gil, but he recovered quickly. He took two menacing steps towards Gil and shoved a finger in his face. “Baron or no, I don’t care who you are, if I catch you around my sister again-”

Seffie interrupted him with a swat on the back of his head. “Martellus, no. Bad brother.”

She grabbed Tweedle’s rather large and solid forearm and tried to drag him away which had the effect of her trying to move a train until she pinched him in the side.

He didn’t say anything else as he finally allowed his sister to pull him down the hall, but he did smack Gil’s head into the wall one last time for emphasis.

Gil rubbed the back of his head as he watched the von Blitzengaard siblings round the corner then glanced at Anevka. She had her face in her hands.

“I’m so sorry about that. My family is–embarrassing.”

“Aren’t they all?”

She looked at him through her fingers then dropped her hands with a dry laugh. “I guess you’re right and my family has the market on humiliating twisted branches cornered.”

“I don’t know–Seffie seemed okay.”

“Well, you don’t know her like I do,” she said with a grin. “Come on, there’s still time before the summit reconvenes.” Anevka slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, leading him down the hall opposite the way Tweedle and Seffie had disappeared.

Gil looked over his shoulder. “I don’t think we’re supposed to leave the luncheon.”

“They won’t even notice we’re gone. Besides, you’re with me and this is my home.”

Gil had a feeling the Baron would not accept that excuse, but he continued to follow Anevka farther into the castle, memorizing the route just in case.

They took two lefts, a right, went up a flight of stairs, two lefts then right, left, right before going down a very narrow spiral staircase lit by something glowing on the walls. Fascinated, he reached out to touch the substance, but it contracted into itself with a pip causing a cascade of lights going out up and down the stairs.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

Anevka laughed. “Don’t worry–they’ll light back up if we’re quiet.”

Sure enough, the walls began to glow softly a moment later until they were back at their original brightness. Gil leaned closer to get a better look; this time without touching. “It’s a fungus–that glows.”

“Pretty, isn’t it? It grows in the mines all around Balan’s Gap–the miners use it instead of gas lamps or candles with the added benefit of it processing just about every toxic substance into oxygen so-”

“No chance of sudden asphyxiation–a light source and air scrubber in one. That’s brilliant.”

Anevka smiled then tugged him along. “Well, I can’t take credit for creating the things, but I did bring them up here and plant them along the walls in some of the lesser used passageways that are too troublesome to keep lit with gas lamps or wire for electricity.”

“This was your idea?’

She ducked her head and despite the green glow, Gil had the distinct impression she was blushing which made him feel a little light headed.

They got to the bottom of the stairs when Anevka suddenly turned to him, eyes twinkling in the shimmery light. “If you like plants, you’ll love the arboretum,” she said, guiding him to the left. “We have hundreds of specimen from all over the world–Mother used to get dreadfully sorrowful during the long winters so Father brought the tropics to her. It’s all very romantic.”

Gil coughed then started choking before nearly tripping over his own feet.

Anevka tried to hide her giggles behind her hand but didn’t do a very good job. “I’m kidding, Gil.”

Gil let out a breath, face blushing fiercely.

Anevka pinched a cheek. "Aren’t you just adorable.”

He tried to smile, but he suddenly felt uncomfortably aware of their isolation. “Where even are we?” he asked after they passed numerous unadorned and presumably locked doors.

“The East Wing or as it’s affectionately called, the ‘Fire Mountain’ Wing."

"Why do you call it that?”

Anevka just smiled as they spilled out into a large, open atrium–the glass dome soaring at least ten meters above them–and covering every wall, a mural depicting the surrounding mountains burning.

“Pretty, huh?”

Gil's eyebrows shot up--'pretty' is not the word he'd used to describe it.

Terrifying, morbid, twisted--those worked better, but he just nodded, not that she was paying any attention to him anymore.

She twirled around the center of the room, face turned up to the dreary sky beyond the glass. "This is my favorite room in the entire castle.

You should see it during the sunrise and set--the whole room is ablaze of reds and oranges thanks to the special glass." Her eyes looked a little on fire themselves when she glanced back at him. "The flames in the murals seem to dance, and you can almost feel the heat."

"Uh, that sounds-"

She continued to dance, oblivious to his awkwardness.

He needed to move things along because Anevka was seriously creeping him out right now. "So, you said something about an arboretum?"

She stopped abruptly then grabbed his hand at a run. "I almost forgot--we don't have much time before we have to get back."

Gil let out a sigh, allowing himself to be dragged along again. This girl was going to give him whiplash, and it reminded him of his father's numerous lectures on the evils of women that Gil mostly ignored because he thought the theories were just his father's way of coping with being bad at relationships. Maybe he wasn't so wrong after all.

A minute later, they dashed under an arch adorned with angels of some sort and through a set of glass doors.

The air inside was humid and you swam through it more so than walked, and everywhere you looked were plants and trees and more plants--the ground, the walls, hanging from the ceiling, growing in planters.

"Wow."

"You like it?"

Gil could tell this was important to her so he nodded, not that it was a lie or anything; the place was amazing.

"Come on, I'll show you my favorite spot." Anevka reached her hand out to him, wiggling her fingers in invitation.

Gil had a feeling he was going to regret spending so much time alone with this girl, but she was nice and a princess so he could hardly refuse. Besides, it was kind of nice having the attention on him for once and not have it involve fists and stolen food.

He pushed those thoughts away, took Anevka’s hand and followed her through the maze of tropical trees and flowers until they came to a clearing near the center where the largest tree towered over the others, its’ branches heavy with long strings of leaves reaching to a little pond at the base.

"This is the best spot for picnics,” she said, flopping onto the ground and patting the soft grass next to her.

Gil scratched the back of his neck as he looked around, unease growing in the pit of his stomach. “It’s getting kind of late–don’t you think we should go back?”

Anevka threw herself back, her red hair splaying around her face, contrasting with the dark green grass. “You know, you remind me of my brother.”

Gil sucked in a sharp breath. “Why would you say that?”

“Oh, you know–you’re both concerned with following the rules and being responsible.”

That’s how she saw him? Responsible? Gil mulled that over while Anevka continued to ramble about the garden and what having fun actually meant. He considered how it felt to be compared to Tarvek so easily and cluelessly.

As a kid, he probably would have puffed up with pride if someone thought he was like Tarvek who was smart and resourceful and brave, but what would Anevka think if she’d been on Castle Wulfenbach with them when they were skipping classes and sneaking around in restricted areas?

The thought made him smile–sure, Tarvek was always the voice of reason when they planned their adventures, but he never stopped them and came up with more than his own share of stupidity.

“What’s that grin for?” Anevka asked, breaking into his reverie.

Gil schooled his features. “You really think I’m like your brother?”

She cocked her head, considering the question. “No, I suppose not much–he’s way stuffier than you. He’s always studying and playing by the rules to get ahead. I can tell already that you’re a lot more fun–Tarvek would have never doodled during a meeting.”

Gil hoped his disappointment didn’t show too much.

Anevka didn’t seem to notice. “You’ll see when you meet him later. Come, sit with me.”

She patted the ground next to her, her expression way too innocent to be authentic–Gil didn’t like it. “We really should be getting back,” he said, taking a step towards to exit. “I don’t want to make the Baron mad.”

* * *

Violetta balanced on a branch in one of the great trees in the arboretum watching her cousin and the Baron's apprentice chat. Since she'd been following them, she'd learned his name was Gil, he was lying about being an orphan, had zero experience with girls, probably spent most of his life on Castle Wulfenbach by the awed way he stared at the foliage, and obviously already knew Tarvek even if Anevka seemed oblivious to that fact.

And he was surely keeping other secrets that Violetta was eager to discover. She was tired of people like Martellus always underestimating her. She could do this job--she could be a good Smoke Knight if they just let her try.

Down below, Gil took a step away from Anevka. Violetta swiveled to keep him in sight, her foot sliding from the edge of her branch. The whole tree swayed and she scrambled for a better grip, cracking several twigs in the process. She finally steadied, holding her breath as Anevka looked around suspiciously then she got up, dusting off her skirt.

"Yeah, you're probably right; we should get out of here," she said, holding her hand out to Gil who reluctantly took it, following her out of Violetta's eyesight.

The girl slowly let out the breath with a groan. "I suck at this," she mumbled, tears filling her eyes while she quickly slid down the tree trunk. "Can't even spy on my own stupid cousin."

She gave herself a full minute to wallow then sniffled and wiped her eyes with the corner of her cloak. She couldn't keep following Gil--Anevka was on to her now--so she left through the opposite door into a darker, cooler corridor that wa only used in the summer months.

Consumed by her thoughts, Violetta almost missed the voices growing louder as she walked towards them. At the last second, she darted into a corner and used a technique to blend with the shadows, staying absolutely still without so much as blinking her eyes until the people passed.

She let out the breath she'd held too long and followed after the three older boys--Martellus; that oaf, Orrik; and one of the assistants brought by a distant uncle controlling a nearly non-existent kingdom in the north. She tiptoed behind them, darting between shadows, trying to keep up--all thoughts of Gil and Anevka fading from her mind at the mystery before her.

Somewhere in the back of her head, Tarvek's voice whispered that this is the kind of thing that would get her killed, but like the real boy, she ignored it as always--Tarvek never had any fun.

They took several turns and staircases, including a hidden one, making Violetta wonder how well Martellus knew the castle when he didn't live here full time--she barely even knew where they were and only did because of the scorch marks on the walls.

This hall led to several abandoned labs. Abandoned by people, at least. The accident that nearly took out a quarter of the wing released quite a few unruly monsters that wreaked havoc for days before they were forced back into the labs where they were left to rot--no one smart came over here anymore. So of course, Martellus was here; he was one of the biggest idiots Violetta knew, and too full of himself to know any better.

Eventually, she got close enough to catch their conversation while Martellus consulted a ring of keys in front of a very impressive oak door covered in more locks than seemed necessary. He was actually going to the labs--idiot.

"Martellus, where are we even going," Orrik whined as he leaned against the wall looking sleepy.

"It's a surprise," her cousin answered, finally finding the first key.

"I don't like surprises," said the other boy who looked a little older than Martellus--maybe in his early twenties and still pockmarked with acne that his scraggly beard couldn't hide.

Three more locks were undone followed by a steel bar across the entire door. "Relax Warner, will you?"

Both Orrik and Warner contained any other complaints as the last lock fell off and it took all of Martellus' strength to pry it open--they didn't look very happy about any of it. The door creaked open, and Martellus stepped aside to let the other two through.

Violetta needed to get through that door but there was no way she'd be able to open it on her own--she needed to think fast. She quickly pried free a chunk of battered wall and tossed down the hall, catching Martellus' attention.

As soon as his head shot up, she bolted for the door using another Smoke Knight technique that was supposed to shield her from view even up close. She'd only learned it a month ago and wasn't sure she could even do it correctly yet, but she skirted past her cousin and slid into the shadows of the room beyond where the other two boys were arguing softly.

Not seeing anything, Martellus closed the door, blanketing them in absolute darkness, causing Warner to squeak in surprise.

"I don't like the dark any more than I like surprises."

Martellus lit a match and pulled a candle from a shelf near the door.

"Oh, shut up," he commanded, shoving between the other two towards a dark set stairs at the far end of the room--these led to the labs in the bowels of the castle.

The three were silent as they descended which made it harder for Violetta to follow without being heard. When they reached the bottom, Martellus opened another heavy door that led to another staircase--this one only a few steps long. The complaining started up again as soon as they got to the bottom and realized the room was filled with over a foot of water.

"I don't like water," Warner muttered.

Martellus ignored him, marching through the room with purpose.

Violetta hurried to stay within sight of the dim candle but paused at the bottom of the stairs. She had no fear or general dislike of water, but this water had an oily gleam to it and smelled foul--like rotting eggs. The surrounding room showed the obvious signs of the devastation from the explosion and ensuing battle.

Chunks of walls and ceilings poked above the water and broken furniture floated in the boys' wake, but the lab tables along the edge of the room looked sturdy and intact if more than a little worn. Violetta stuck to these, hopping from table to table to stone blocks to barely stable shelves--anything to stay above the water and out of sight.

"What was that!" Orrik yelled suddenly. "Something touched my leg."

Warner glanced around at the mostly placid water. "Don't be ridiculous."

"No, really, I felt it." Orrik's voice continued to rise in pitch.

"You're imagining things--it's just water."

Violetta perched on a crooked chandelier as the boys argued beneath her, but her attention was on the water.

Martellus had stopped as well, spinning slowly to shed his light on the surrounding room. The water glistened green and purple but nothing moved. "Keep moving," he ordered, putting everyone in motion again.

Violetta swung the chandelier enough to hop to a beam hanging at an angle on the opposite wall then to an equally cockeyed shelf that nearly gave out under her weight.

The idiots were making enough noise not to notice her presence much to her relief. They continued through a heavy metal door blown nearly off its hinges into a bigger lab where the main explosion must have taken place by the nearly complete destruction of the contents--nothing was untouched by fire or left unbroken which left Violetta with a lot fewer choices when moving.

"There it is again," Orrik screeched, his voice echoing in the large space and causing everyone to freeze.

Martellus swung the candle in an arc around them showing placid water except where Orrik churned it up with his nervous dancing. "Knock it off, idiot--you're scaring Warner."

"I'm telling you there's something in the water."

Martellus growled in frustration. "I swear, you whine more than my little sister. Now get your heads in the game."

Warner still watched the water warily. "But I heard there were monsters under Sturmhalten, and we are most certainly under Sturmhalten."

"Why are we even down here, Tweedle?" asked Orrik. "I thought you said we were going to work on the plan."

Violetta's ears perked at this new information. A plan? What plan? What were these idiots up to way down here with the monsters other than being monsters themselves? Her mind swirled with intrigue but stayed alert enough for other clues.

"We are," Martellus said, his annoyance growing. "We just need one thing."

"What's that?" Orrik asked, inching closer to Martellus but never taking his eyes from the water.

Martellus fiddled with a dented and rusted cabinet in the corner until he pried open the door with a loud squeal of twisting metal. He pulled out a bottle of iridescent liquid with a triumphant smile stretching across his weasely face.

"And what's that?" asked Warner, peering over Orrik's shoulder to get a better look.

"Just something my great-uncle cooked up--right before he cooked himself," he said glancing around the destroyed lab with a chuckle.

He left the cabinet door hanging open and trudged back towards the stairs, Orrik and Warner muttering behind him. Violetta didn't need to know what was in the bottle to know it was bad news--it was made by someone in her family and locked in a lab destroyed by Madboy experiments and monsters.

What she did need to know was what they were planning on doing with it because her imagination ran wild with the possibilities including plagues and mind control. You just never knew with her family.

She quietly followed them back up the stairs, hiding in a dark corner while she figured out how to slip out without being seen which ended up not being a problem because as soon as Martellus shuffled the others out, he wheeled around and tore Violetta from the shadows.

"You just never learn, do you?"

"Damn," Orrik yelled from out in the hall, "look at the time, Tweedle."

That was enough to get Martellus' attention and give Violetta the seconds she needed to escape in a less violent method than she'd originally optioned for which would have probably led to one less future Blitzengaard heir.

She did a quick twist maneuver with a practiced ease that made her heart pound with glee. Before Martellus knew what was going on, she dropped from his grasp, grabbed the bottle from the pocket in his coat and darted out the door--all Martellus found was the broken remnants of a chair wrapped in a piece of tapestry with a dirty mop for a head.

"Violetta!"

She didn't stop to hear what curses her cousin threw at her--she knew she couldn't outpace him in a foot race which meant she needed to get sneaky. And fast.

[Part 5 ]

#girl genius #girl genius fanfic #gilgamesh wulfenbach #anevka sturmvoraus #seffie von blitzengaard #martellus von blitzengaard #violetta mondarev #sentences #days 29-35 #story: uncalled for actions

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rose-gold-romantic · 6 years

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Tesseract: Introduction

A Loki x reader that I started over 4 years ago in high school. I’ve done my best to fix it but please, I WOULD LOVE FEEDBACK! Takes place during the first Avengers. This is just the introuction, I have a whole story planned out but I need to fix what was already written and finish writing it! Photo credit to Google, if you know the original artist, please tell me so I can tag them!

I hadn't asked to be a part of the tesseract project, but just because I hadn't asked didn't mean that I wouldn't be placed there. I think that my older brother, agent Phil Coulson, had something to do with it. I was placed there as a part of security, working under special agent Barton to guard and monitor the tesseract. My name is Y/N Coulson, and this is the story of myself, and the tesseract.

Though at first quite boring, and at times rather infuriating, I soon found small parts of my new job enjoyable. Dr. Selvig was friendly, though he often poked fun at the way I was constantly misplacing my glasses. It was never enough to cause any ill will. Erik also explained some of their findings to me in words that I could understand. I had never been a science person in school, but there was something about the way Erik would describe things to me that was soothing in a way. It made the mundane description of a simple electric current seem more interesting than what I thought possible.

Weeks into the research project, the Tesseract began acting very strangely, throwing off slight bursts of mild gamma radiation. I began to wonder if Barton wasn't smarter for sitting in the rafters, watching from afar. My post walking around on the floor wasn't exactly the safest position to be in. Suddenly, three large arcs of energy shot out from the Tesseract, all in different directions. Two went towards the cement wall, and one came straight for me, knocking me to the ground before I could dodge to avoid it. I hesitantly got up, not wanting to discover the hard way that I had been injured. Dr. Selvig and a few others rushed towards me as I stood up, Barton sliding down from his perch up above. Aside from a slightly bruised backside, nothing seemed to have hurt me.

“Coulson, are you feeling alright?” Barton asked, his face concerned.

“Yea,” I said, then joking, “Why, am I glowing, radioactive or something?”

“You should probably take a look at yourself.” Selvig said, gesturing for a reflective surface to be retrieved for him.

They handed me the stainless steel tray, and I peered at my reflection. For a moment, I noticed no difference. Then my eyes met those of my reflection. My blue eyes seemed to glow, a shade lighter to match the Tesseract. I stumbled back in shock, and my eyes dimmed slightly. Curious, I took a few steps towards the Tesseract, my eyes brightening with every step. I walked away from the glowing cube, and my eyes resumed their natural state when I was about a hundred feet away from it.

“What is this?” I breathed.

“I.. I don’t know.” Erik responded, “But I’ll try to find out.” he walked into his work station, muttering about finding some kind of meter gun.

“I’m calling Fury.” Barton said, beginning to climb back up to his nest in the rafters.

I sighed as I picked up my glasses and placed them on my face again. Perhaps the gamma radiation the cube threw at me had been enough to affect my eyes, but apparently it wasn’t going to fix my sight.

Dr. Selvig walked over, waving some kind of instrument around my body like a TSA agent at an airport.

“This makes no sense!” he scoffed, “This reads no different on you than it does on myself… and I wasn’t struck! I need to find out how to test this…”

A few days passed, the research team becoming more tense as time wore on. Barton’s retelling of the Tesseract’s fit had been enough to merit a visit from Nick Fury himself. Not wishing to look like a slacker, I posted myself between the main entrance and the tesseract, eyes shifting all around the room as I stood at attention with my hands behind my back. Dr. Selvig assured me that he would vouch for my usefulness, but I declined, insisting that I let my actions speak for themselves.

The PA system announced Fury’s arrival, and I began pacing slightly back and forth, noticing that Barton still calmly sat in his ‘nest’ in the rafters. Soon enough, Fury emerged, with my brother following, only to have Phil turn around and leave at a word from the director. As soon as Fury walked up to the scientific monitors, Dr. Selvig launched into a debriefing of the entire mission’s progression, including the unusual behavior of the tesseract itself. Barton descended from his post, speaking with Fury about what they might do.

Before Dr. Selvig could begin telling Fury of the accident with me, the tesseract began to flux and wane, energy again visibly arcing off of the small cube. I stepped to stand behind some equipment as the cube continued to throw off energy in increasing both volume and quantity.

Suddenly, the whole room seemed to glow with energy, the tesseract the brightest point of light in the room. A large, circular portal opened up in the research facility, around ten feet away from the cube itself. I could see what looked to be galaxies and clusters of stars in the portal, the world I lived in barely reaching into the strange doorway. Energy spread out, and the portal closed in a flaming flash, the energy rising and gathering at the high ceiling of the facility. The ceiling seemed to groan and crack, but I could not see well through the glowing blue energy field.

I looked down to where the portal had been, and saw a figure kneeling on the ground, slight traces of Tesseract energy still rising from him like tendrils of smoke. The figure appeared to be male, clad in dark black and green leather from his shoulders to his feet. In his hand was a long, golden spear, with a sharp silver blade. The spear itself also glowed blue from one point near the blade, as if it also had a small Tesseract attached. The man glanced up, long black hair slicked back behind his head, a menacing grin on his face. He seemed pale, and almost gaunt. His eyes had dark circles around them as if he hadn’t had sleep in years. Director Fury began to speak with the strange person. Instead of respond to Fury’s questions, the man slowly stood, smiling, and began to shoot energy blasts from his spear, the tip of which glowed like the tesseract.

I dove behind a computer lab station, taking my pistol out of it’s leg holster. Taking calculated aim, I fired at the strange man that had now leapt an impossible distance off of the ground and forward, and stabbed another security officer with his staff. Bullets bounced harmlessly off of him, and I shuddered, knowing this was getting hopeless.

As the man continued to take down security, I scooted around carefully to get between him and the tesseract while remaining hidden. I noticed Fury doing the same. I placed my pistol back into its holster, knowing that bullets could not harm this strange newcomer. I stood by the tesseract, watching helplessly as the man lightly touched people in the chest with the spear, their eyes darkening, then lightening to match my own when I was near the tesseract.

Fury took out a metal suitcase that he had taken off a shelf, and took the tesseract, placing it inside the silvery box. He winced as it burned him, closing the suitcase quickly. The ceiling began to crack more from the energy trapped there, small pieces falling to the floor. As we tried to leave with the tesseract, the man spoke up for the first time since he had appeared.

“Please don't. I still need that.” I couldn’t quite place his accent, it was unusual, like he had come from time past. There was confidence in his voice, but also the slightest hint of desperation, perhaps exhaustion.

“This doesn't have to get any messier.” Fury responded, stopping.

“Of course it does. I've come too far anything else.” the man said, his voice deep and intimidating. “I am Loki, of Asgard, and I am burdened with glorious purpose.” The room seemed to chill by a few degrees as the words left his mouth, a smile spreading across his pale face.

Dr. Selvig interjected briefly, “Loki, brother of Thor.”

At the Dr.’s statement, Loki glared at him with such an intense stare, I felt weak at the knees. The hatred seemed to radiate off of him at the mention of his brother.

“We have no quarrel with your people.” Fury said, and I slowly began to realize what was going on.

“An ant has no quarrel with a boot.” Loki responded, seemingly less irritated now.

“Are you planning to step on us?” Fury responded, confirming my theory.

Fury was stalling for time.

“I come with glad tidings, of a world made free.” Loki said, smiling a bit.

“Free from what?”

“Freedom. Freedom is life's great lie. Once you accept that, in your heart…” Loki answered, touching Dr. Selvig with his staff, turning the Dr.’s eyes the unearthly blue. “...you will know peace.”

The ceiling cracked further, the energy that had collected beginning to fluctuate as it had before Loki’s arrival. The room rumbled slightly, putting myself and Fury even more on edge.

“Yeah, you say "peace," I kind of think you mean the other thing.” Fury said. I realized that unless I wanted to die, I should probably play along that I had been changed by the staff. My eyes already glowed, all I had to do was stay close to the tesseract, or possibly even just the staff that Loki held. It was a foolhardy plan, but it was all I had. Better to live to fight another day than die pointlessly unable to prevent anything.

Barton soon spoke up, blue eyes in startling contrast from his normally brown ones. “Sir, Director Fury is stalling. This place is about to blow and drop a hundred feet of rock on us. He means to bury us.”

“Like the pharaohs of old.” Fury said, resigning himself to his own death. He looked at me sternly, and I understood. I made like I was walking away from Fury, aligning with Loki, and hoping that the angered god would fall for the trick.

“He's right. The portal is collapsing in on itself.” Selvig said, checking a few monitors. “We've got maybe two minutes before this goes critical.”

“Well, then…” Loki said, nodding to Barton.

Barton took aim and fired at Fury, knocking Fury to the ground and leaving the tesseract defenseless. I followed Loki as close as I dared, hoping my assumption regarding my eyes and his staff was correct. It seemed that it was, as he merely glanced at me before moving on, Barton grabbing the case and following both of us out towards the vehicles.

We marched out towards the jeeps, passing a confused agent Hill. I tried to shoot her a warning look as I sat inside the backseat of the jeep, Loki climbing into the truck bed portion. Barton was the last to enter, taking the driver's seat after a few gunshots echoed in the area. We careened down the corridors, followed by several SHIELD vehicles.

Somehow, agent Hill got in front of us, slamming into us with her own jeep, trying to prevent our escape. Unfortunately, Barton was a skilled driver, and evaded Hill’s Jeep. Her vehicle was spun around, and we left it in the dust.

We burst out of the compound’s entrance just as the corridor behind us collapsed upon itself, leaving us no one to run from. That is, until Fury’s helicopter showed up. I expected to be shot down by my own, which was rather saddening, but a blue burst of energy flew up from behind the cab, and struck the helicopter. With the chopper careening out of control, I was only able to see one figure leap from the whirlibird before it came crashing down to the ground. A few shots were fired at us, but none met their mark. My bluetooth fizzled in my ear, signaling that my radio was out of range. I had no way to contact anyone within SHIELD. I yanked it out and threw it on the floor of the vehicle, silent tears streaming down my face.

I was officially alone.

#Loki #Loki x reader #self insert #romance #fanfiction #avengers #phil coulson #his name is agent #tesseract

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dragonnadder · 6 years

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Quicksilver and Pyrite

Before I begin, I should introduce. This is the first chapter of an AU Ninjago fanfiction I started post-TLNM, and plan to continue for some time. It’s been up on Wattpad for a while, but as I’m not friends with as many Ninjago fans there as here, I decided to try sharing here to see what y’all think. This also takes place after this one-shot I wrote.

Chapter 1 - Gilded Solstice, Part 1

Zane was the first one awake. He blinked his optical sensors open and performed a brief self-scan, making sure nothing was out of place. Satisfied, he climbed out of his bed (unnecessary, he knew, but comforting nonetheless), and wandered onto the deck of the Destiny's Bounty, floating at about two hundred meters in the air and roughly a kilometer from New Ninjago City. After climbing up on top of the poop deck, he sat down and watched the clear night sky slowly fade into the sunrise of the first day of the Gilded Solstice.

Cole was next up. He burst out from under his covers and sat on the edge of his bed, panting. His dreams were bothering him again, and meditating before bed hadn't helped. He tried another breathing exercise, but his heartbeat refused to still. If he even still had a heart - he was still a ghost. Visiting Yang's temple had done nothing for him, only given him more nightmares of their last visit. With a quiet growl, he stormed out through the bedroom walls and ran a few laps around the main deck. When his legs refused to carry him any longer, he collapsed on the ground, winded but clearer of mind. After flopping onto his back, the earth ninja noticed Zane sitting on the rooftop and watching his exertion. Sighing quietly, Cole quickly made his way up to his teammate, who looked down at him with a mild smile.

Lloyd woke up to a faint banging sound under the floorboards. A glance at the other beds revealed everyone but Kai having gotten up already. Jay and Nya's beds seemed hardly touched, which was concerning. With a small exhale, he stood up and let out a small laugh/groan as he put weight on his left leg, which was asleep. Ah, First Master, he cursed quietly, half limping to Kai's bedside and shaking the older ninja awake. He stirred and got up, one hand brushing loose strands of hair out of his face. "Lloyd? What's going on?"

"It's morning. I'm gonna go look for Jay and Nya, and I think the other two are above." A yell, a clang, and a peal of laughter interrupted him, followed by indistinct chatter. "That's probably them. Care to join me?"

"Sure," Kai blearily responded, pushing himself up. A red coloring tinged the fire ninja's cheeks as he sat up and closed his eyes for a moment.

"You okay, Kai?" Lloyd asked. "Your face is red."

"Hmm? Oh, no, I'm... I'm fine." He stretches and tried to stand, but collapsed with a wince.

"You are the opposite of fine. Come on, I'll help you down." Lloyd pulled his teammate back up and supported him as they walked out of the room and down the stairs. "What happened between you and Jay?" he asked as the tingling in his leg faded and he could stand straighter. "Ever since you guys came back from that trip last week, there's been a weird vibe between the two of you."

"Nothing happened," he insisted, a small shiver running through him. "We're just-" He broke off in a fit of coughing.

"You're sick, Kai. Something happened, and now you're sick. You need to take it easy for once."

"What! I can't do that! I have three interviews scheduled for today! My fans need to be updated! I have to do things!"

"You can have Jay or Zane set you up with one of those facecon apps if it's so vital for you to contact them. But you're not heading into the city. You need to recover."

Kai continued protesting as the two headed down the corridor and stopped in front of the entrance to the mech dock the two techies had set aside for their projects. Lloyd pushed the trapdoor open, knelt, and looked around at the odd chaos the two had caused.

By some technomagical ingenuity, the inside of the mech dock was bigger than the entire ship seemed able to contain. Six color-coded mechanical beasts were arranged roughly equidistant from one another around the room. Each seemed designed after a different creature, all of which had capabilities of flight. Five of them - the red, green, black, and both blues - were sitting relatively peacefully around the hangar doors in the center room, albeit occasionally sparking from exposed wires and with various pieces of scrap metal sitting around and on them. The white mech, however, was a different story.

Seemingly designed to look like Zane's falcon, the mech was plated in silver and white with glowing blue eyes. Jay was sitting on the bird's shoulders (or whatever they were called, Lloyd certainly didn't know), yelling at the mech and waving a socket wrench wildly. His hair was vaguely poofy from being untended-to and probably awake the entire night. Nya was sitting on the ground nearby with a discarded welder and a few bits of metal, laughing.

Kai leaned over his shoulder and made a small sound of disbelief, and, before Lloyd realized what he was doing, pushed him aside and began to climb down the ladder. His grip failed him a few rings down, however, and he fell down the rest of the way, hitting the floor with a muffled whump. Lloyd quickly hurried down after him.

Jay had heard Kai's fall, and dropped his gear immediately. He slid down the back of the bird mech, which shuffled its feet and snapped its beak, and rushed over to him, Nya close behind him. He hardly noticed Lloyd coming down the ladder, all his attention focused on Kai. With Nya's help, he turned him over onto his back and checked him over for injuries, of which none were noticeable.

"Is he okay?" Lloyd asked, having come over at some point, and Jay gave a panicked laugh.

"Okay? Of course he's okay! Anyone would be okay after falling thirty feet off a ladder!" He continued ranting for a few moments more, but stopped as he felt Kai stir under his hands.

"Jay-Jay, stop panicking," his muffled voice said slowly. "It's... not helping."

"First Master, Kai! You scared me half to death!"

There was a pause.

"You scared both of us almost entirely to death," was the fire ninja's response as he slowly sat back up.

Jay laughed and hugged Kai, and Lloyd and Nya glanced between the two, obviously confused.

"Weird vibe, I'm telling you," he overheard him say to her.

"Jay, get off, now," Kai said after a few moments. He released his stranglehold and backed off as he stood.

"Where're Cole and Zane?" Jay asked after noting their absence. "I don't feel like explaining these mechs more than once."

"They're above, most likely," Lloyd replied. "I think they're-"

"Speak of the devil," Nya interrupted, gesturing to the ladder. The two missing ninja were climbing down and walking over to the other four.

"'Morning!" Zane said cheerfully. "We heard a bit of a commotion and decided to come down. Hopefully you haven't forgotten about the Gilded Solstice celebrations?"

"The... Oh, First Master," Jay groaned, putting his face in his hands. He felt someone - Kai, probably - put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"We completely forgot. The mechs aren't quite finished yet, but almost all the wiring and coding's complete. Maybe you boys could help us finish up?" Nya asked.

Cole responded, "You're gonna have to catch us up a bit first, Nya. We got a lot of work to do, and I'd rather not screw it up."

Kai's mech was a streamlined firebird in red and orange whose form could be ignited with a press of a button. He was quick to point out that he could also light them up with his own powers, and was eager to test it out before being shouted down by the other ninja, for obvious reasons.

The darker blue mech was Jay's, in the form of a dragonfly/firefly fusion. The wings and abdomen of the bug would be able to light up in glowing lightning blue and course with electricity when complete. At the moment, they were just semitransparent reinforced glass or tough cloth.

Nya's mech was also a bird, designed after the legendary sigmarus, a water-elemental form of a phoenix. Painted in every shade of turquoise and ocean blue, it would be a sight to see out in the sky.

Next to Zane's falcon stood Cole's mech, a brown, copper, and bronze dragon with striking similarity to his first dragon, Rocky. Its onboard AI had been designed to mimic Rocky as much as Jay could remember, with a bit of unknowing input from Cole himself.

The final mech belonged to Lloyd. It was a serpentine, wingless dragon in various hues of green and accented with gold, a nod to his former place as the Golden Ninja. The dragon's eyes whirred to life and it looked at its blonde owner with a slightly tilted head. He waved back, nervous, and the mech responded with a small puff of warm air and a slow blink.

The six ninja set to work quickly, fixing, adjusting, and testing the mechs. Zane shouted out the time every so often, to their annoyance - the celebrations would begin at sunset, which, as Zane reminded them, was at 8:43 in the evening. About an hour before noon, Kai took one of the skimmers Cyrus Borg had built for them a little while before and headed out to the city to grab lunch for the group. By the time he got back with noodles from Skylor's noodle place, the others were about to give up and go make food themselves.

After a short lunch break, Jay and Nya were satisfied enough with their progress that the group took their mechs out for a test flight. One by one, they dropped out of the mech bay and sailed into the open sky. Although the mechs still had a few kinks to work out, Nya was happy with how far they'd gotten. They might even be able to decorate the mechs before the Solstice festivities began. They'd definitely have time to deck the ship, though.

With a bit of struggle, the ninja managed to split into two groups to continue preparing. Zane, Jay, and Lloyd stayed and continued working on the mechs, while Nya, Kai, and Cole went up and started finding decorations for the Destiny's Bounty.

As they dug around in the storage rooms, Kai was struck by the sheer amount of tea supplies. Sensei Wu had obviously been prepared for many long journeys before he was sent into the time rift. He sifted through one small container, crushing some of the leaves together on his fingers and smelling them. They smelled vaguely like peppermint and lemon.

"I found a stash of lanterns," he heard Nya announce. "We could string these up on the railings, and on the roof of the pilot's cabin."

"That could look good on the sails, too. Kai, mind lighting these up for us once we get above?"

He lifted his head and nodded. "No problem."

"We can't put lanterns on the sails, it'll impede their function and we wouldn't be able to go anywhere."

"Maybe you're right at that."

Nya scoffed. "Maybe."

"What've you got there, Kai?" Cole asked, kneeling next to him.

"Sensei's tea leaves."

"He had a lot of them."

"You could say that again."

There was a brief pause as the three remembered their old Sensei.

"How old even was he?" Kai eventually asked. "I don't remember him ever telling us, and since he's the First Spinjitzu Master's son, he must be pretty dang old."

"He mentioned to the three of us before you arrived that he was roughly a hundred and fifty, something along those lines," Cole responded.

"A hundred fifty!" Nya exclaimed, having joined the other two. "That's absurd. The average person lives for maybe eighty years, ninety if they push it. Even then, they're almost completely bald. Either something genetic in the First Master's lineage gave him really long life, or he was lying to us."

"Sensei wouldn't lie to us," Cole protested.

"Wouldn't he?" Kai challenged.

"What cause would he have to lie to us?"

"To keep us safe? To make sure we couldn't destroy him and the rest of the team if we decided to turn against him? He's already-"

"You'd turn against us? What kind of ninja are you?"

"Hypothetically speaking! Why would I want to betray you guys? You're my best friends!"

"Like that's stopped you from leaving us behind before!"

The argument raged on for the better part of a minute, until Nya interrupted with an explosive "Enough!"

Both boys turned to look at her.

"Your arguing isn't helping anyone, least of all yourselves. We have an entire ship to decorate before sunset, and you're bickering like drunkards in a barroom. We are a team, whether you like it or not, whether Wu lied to us or not, so you had better suck up the insults you're throwing at each other and help out or I swear to the First Spinjitzu Master I'll have you cleaning up the streets on your own after the celebrations are over."

Kai exchanged looks with Cole. "Understood, sis."

"Good. Now help me get these lanterns up on deck."

The team of three made quick work of hanging the red paper lanterns around the ship. Off the railings, on the roof's overhang, anywhere they would decoratively fit and not impede the function of the ship. Kai was, for once, careful not to light entire strings of lights on fire, instead focusing on the fires to make them small and concentrated, as Wu had tried to teach him from the start. Cole had found some red and gold ribbon, and climbed up the mast to decorate a bit further, while Nya fastened the lantern strings in place along the ship. The sun was just an hour or so from touching the horizon when the other group of three came up on deck and announced that they were done, and Zane brought out a meat pie for the team's dinner.

Roughly fifteen minutes before sunset, the ninja headed belowdecks to check out the mechs. After settling in and reconfirming their familiarity with the controls, the hangar doors opened, and one by one the team dropped down and flew toward the city.

The often-bustling and chaotic city was decorated similarly to the Bounty, in streams of gold and red. Glowing paper lanterns hung along rooftops and across roads, and depictions of all manner of creatures adorned every meter. Near the center of the city, merchants and food-sellers set up shop in several of the town squares and were hawking their wares as the people danced to the festive music and held cheerful conversation with friends, strangers, and out-of-towners alike. The parades hadn't begun yet, so the ninja landed on the flat roof of a tall nearby building and dismounted, telling the mechs to stay put until they were called.

"Shall we head down?" Lloyd asked with a grin, gesturing to the ground several stories below.

"Race you!" Kai responded, leaping off the building. Jay hurried to the edge, along with the other ninja, and saw him shooting fire out of his hands and feet to slow his fall. He grinned and vaulted over the side, magnetizing his hands and jumping between metal outcrops. Zane flew past him, surfing down an ice bridge forming before him, and Cole followed close behind on a flat slab of rock. Nya shot down nearby, starting a Cyclon-do spin to stop from splatting onto the ground. Behind all the rest, Lloyd swung down, carefully parkouring down the side of the building.

After regrouping on the ground, the team set off to Diamond Square, where the main festivities were taking place. They quickly split up, each heading to a different section of the square. Jay hurried to the food stalls and stared at the goods for sale. Melons and fruits sat next to cherry pies and caramels, and jerky and kebab sticks abounded. He noticed that Chen's Noodle House had set up a small shop a few stalls away, and waved as a break in the crowd appeared and he caught sight of Skylor, who grinned back. Seeing as he had little else to do, he headed over to talk.

"That's 35 back. Enjoy your meal!" she said to the last person in line, who thanked her and walked into the crowd. "'Evening, Jay. What brings you here?"

"We're waiting for the parades to start organizing," he said with an offhand shrug. "You taking part this year?"

She snorted a laugh. "Hardly. There's a chance next year, if I can get someone else to run the booth. Even then, I'd need to build a float or something of the kind, and I'm not sure how much time I have for that."

"Nya and I built our team flying mechs this year. We could probably build you one, too," Jay offered. "We could hold on to it when you're not using it, too, in case you don't have space."

The Master of Amber seemed lost for words, and perhaps the slightest bit confused. "That... that would be great," she finally got out, brushing a lock of red hair behind her ear. "Thanks, Jay."

"I'll send you a message later with details."

"Jay! Sky!" The two turned and saw Kai heading toward them.

"Kai!" she called back with a wave. "You guys are gonna be in the parade?"

"Yep! This guy-" he lightly punched Jay's shoulder "-and my sis built these awesome mechs for us."

"He told me. He also offered to build me a mech for next year's festivities," she said, favoring Jay with a small smile. "Maybe I'll join you then."

"That would be awesome," Kai agreed. "I'm gonna go find Cole."

"I think I saw him by the DJs," Jay told him, gesturing to a spot a short distance from the dancers. As he left, the music changed from cheerful and light to rock and roll.

"He's still a ghost, right?" Skylor asked, and he nodded. "Poor guy. How's he dealing with that?"

"He went to Sensei Yang's temple a few weeks back, before the whole Hands of Time thing. Thought it would help him turn back to human, but it didn't work. He's been having nightmares since then, too."

"Man."

"No kidding."

The two watched the crowd for a few minutes with a few insignificant comments about the festivities before a gong's chime quieted the city. Rising from the post he had been leaning against, Jay told Skylor, "That's our cue to prepare. See you in a bit?"

She smiled and waved him off, and he quickly headed to the building they had landed their mechs on. Zane was sitting on his falcon already, and waved a welcome to Jay as he climbed over the edge of the roof. His lightning bug (he internally chuckled at the pun) was still sitting in the same spot he had left it, luckily. It whirred to life and turned to look at him, and he patted its head before hoisting himself up in front of its wings, checking the panels and levers in its head.

The other ninja quickly appeared, and with a few last-minute power checks and décor adjustments, the group set off to where the parade was organizing.

"Ah! Ninja! We have a spot for you near the front if you'd like to walk, but it appears you've come prepared to fly. Would you like to do that instead?" An organizer dashed up toward them. Her auburn hair seemed disheveled, and she brushed a wavy lock out of her slightly flushed face as she spoke.

"We can fly if there's enough space on the roads," Lloyd responded, climbing down from his dragon, who snorted and nudged his head with its snout while Jay held back laughter at the friendliness of the dragon.

"There should be plenty if you don't all line up side by side."

"Awesome, thanks." Lloyd climbed back up and the team took off into the air, planning out some group maneuvers.

"I have a name for you now," Jay told his mech, who looked back at him and whirred curiously. "Storm. Whaddya think?" It made a sound of approval, and he grinned, patting its side.

"All right! Ninja are heading out first! Repeat, ninja are heading out!" a different organizer called, gesturing a go-ahead to the team. With a shared smile, the ninja zigzagged through the streets and entered Diamond Square as they activated their special abilities.

Kai's phoenix lit on fire as he flipped upside down and high-fived the crowd beneath him, while Nya's sigmarus seemed to ripple and glow slightly. Mech-Rocky breathed out a burst of stone and corkscrewed through the air, and Zane's falcon threw up snow clouds wherever its wings passed. Jay began channeling the lightning, lighting up Storm's transparent bits and glowing with an electric blue, and Lloyd's dragon grew semitransparent, crackling green energy wings as it swooped through the air. Jag felt a wild grin light up his face at how well the mechs were functioning, and whooped as he pulled Storm into a backwards loop.

The crowd cheered, clearly in awe of the mechs, and chattered excitedly. Jay spotted Skylor standing with Camille and Neuro on the far side of the square and waved a hello, which was quickly returned by all three. An effusive grin on his face, he guided Storm in a glowing loop around the square and down a side road, meeting back up with the other ninja as they went up and landed on a building overlooking the square to watch the rest of the parade.

A troupe of dancers had come after the six, and were currently spinning and leaping in flashes of orange and yellow as a small group of musicians played a sprightly accompaniment. After they vaulted through, two battle suits, one in gold and green, the other in black and violet with an extra set of arms, reenacted a scene of combat that Jay recognized as Lloyd and Lord Garmadon's combat some time ago. A glance over at his teammate confirmed his guess. Lloyd was watching them with a faint mixture of a frown and a laughing smile. Beyond them, Dareth and his trainees displayed their skills, to the ninjas' hilarity.

The parade continued for what must have been an hour at the least. As they neared the end, the center of the square opened up, and more festive music began playing as couples entered the opening and began a dance Jay thought he recognized.

"Should we head down and join them?" he asked, looking at his teammates. With the exception of Cole, they all agreed and quickly joined the circles of dancers.

Cole looked at his ghostly green-grey hands and sighed. Rocky lay down next to him, and he stroked his head with one hand. "If only going to Yang's temple had worked," he said quietly. "If only anything had worked. I miss going swimming with the others. And water balloon fights. Now I can't even touch a glass of water without going paranoid."

The dragon made a rumbling sound and nudged at his side, seeming to recognize Cole's... sadness? He wasn't sure what to call it.

"I can't age, I can't eat or drink, I can't even touch half the things around me. If I stay dry, I would just... exist, possibly forever. I don't want that, but I don't want to die without becoming solid again first." He leaned back against Rocky's side and exhaled a sigh. "Am I dead already? I don't need any of the essentials of living life, but I still feel. I still hurt, and I still laugh and sadden and all of that. Maybe I'm just an in-between. Not dead or alive, just... existing, here, now. Forever."

The two sat on the roof and watched the moon cross the three-quarters-down mark, surrounded by deactivated and sleeping mechs and seeming for all the world as sentinels of a forgotten age as the dances continued below.

As the stars turned in their endless cycle above him, Cole drifted through his thoughts aimlessly. A new vision overlaid the cityscape before him - crumbling ruins colored with rust and vines, dust swirling through abandoned roads. The patterns of the Diamond Square were chipped and faded, untouched in what must have been decades, perhaps centuries. The mechs around him were rusted and torn, never again to raise their heads and spread their wings for flight. The sky was clear and filled with stars in a way the living city, the old city, never could have seen. Despite the ruins all around him, a sense of serenity pervaded the air, albeit tinged with a bit of sadness. He was the only "living" creature in this new world, the guardian of a past unremembered and watcher of a future unknown.

Here was a world where he could fit in. Here was a world where he could walk through the city without being stared at and hidden from.

Here he was alone.

In both this future and the present, Cole was still as the ghostly traces of music rippled through his thoughts and the moon slowly set behind him, marking the end of the first - and last - night of the Gilded Solstice.

#ninjago #ninjago jay #ninjago kai #ninjago zane #ninjago cole #ninjago nya #ninjago lloyd #ninjago plasmashipping #plasmashipping #Fireshock #ninjago skylor #ninjago camille #ninjago neuro #ruby writes #writing #fanfiction #fanfic #ninjago fanfiction

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xyliane · 6 years

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run away with me

summary: the best vacations shouldn’t be the ones taken with your best friend, running for your life because someone saw a problem they had to fix by blowing things up, but that’s how things work out. both gon and killua prefer it this way.

notes: happy killugon day! post-reunion chaos and mayhem and boys being idiots, some years down the line. why yes I did listen to carly rae jepsen the entire time why do you ask, that song is basically perfect. G, killugon, 2300 words.

ao3 link!

—

Killua didn’t expect to be running for his life when he woke up this morning. He’s on vacation, after all—vacation in a forest in the middle of nowhere, sure, but this is not the sort of place that leads to the thought “I am going to die today!” It’s an idyllic sort of forest, with lush green leaves the size of Killua’s hand on trees the size of skyscrapers, the forest floor covered with dense underbrush and vines crawling up and around trunks so wide Killua could build an entire house inside and still have room for a garden. The few clearings they’ve found are swampy grounds full of flowers in every color imaginable, including some that even Gon didn’t recognize—which he carefully cataloged for Spinner, in case she and her friends ever wanted to make it up this way, before tucking an orange one into Killua’s white hair and ignoring the screams of mosquitoes in their ears.

It’s not the sort of place that exactly screams romantic getaway, but Gon and Killua aren’t the sort of people who really need that sort of thing.

It’s also not the sort of place that’s supposed to have militant lumberjacks hellbent on chopping down the forest, who don’t take very kindly to vacationing Hunters stumbling into their camp and destroying their operations because someone thinks it’s bad for the animals. But the day has been full of surprises.

Surprises like the sound of a whirling buzzsaw headed at Killua’s face, thrown at nen-reinforced speeds too fast to actually see. He throws himself to the ground on instinct, a little crackle of electricity in his own aura that reminds him he hasn’t charged since they left the train station at the start of the week. High above him hanging from a branch by his ankles, Gon cackles gleefully, swinging to and fro like a spiky haired monkey. “Are you okay, Killua?”

“Shut the hell up, Gon!” Killua bellows. He has to roll as soon as the words are out of his mouth, only narrowly avoiding an ax as it spins past his shoulder and embeds itself a foot deep into the tree trunk. He hefts a stone, imbuing it with ren and more than enough electricity to knock out an elephant, and tosses it back in the direction of the shouts. The resulting boom and sound of bodies flying into trees makes him grin.

His best friend flips upwards, having easily avoided all of the blades, staves, and various other woodcutting tools thrown towards them from a hundred meters back. The lumberjacks learned early to keep their distance, although Killua probably can’t pull off another eruption of lightning like he did before and Gon only has so many of those big punches in him. “You know, this was your idea,” Gon says conversationally, like they’re not at risk of being horribly murdered.

Killua takes advantage of the brief lull of sharp things being thrown at him to leap up to where Gon is, hoping the shadows will cover them both for long enough to sketch out a plan of where to go next. Gon offers him a hand up, unneeded but no less appreciated. “I wanted a vacation!” Killua says. “Ikalgo never said anything about the forest being infested with assholes.”

Gon levels him with an incredulous look. “You let Ikalgo suggest a romantic getaway?”

“Fun, not romantic. Shit, Gon.” The thought makes Killua pause, and he tries to calm the worries that flood his head. “Would you rather have gone somewhere more…I don’t know, coupley?”

Gon looks like he’s mulling this over, willfully oblivious of the imminent death by lumberjack. “I guess the flowers were pretty nice. And the waterfall yesterday, that was cool!”

“The waterfall we only went over because you trashed these asshole’s camp.”

Gon smiles, a bright flash of white teeth that is entirely too innocent. “You helped! I never could have gotten all of their equipment fried like that, not even with my strongest punch.”

“I can’t let you have all the fun,” Killua says, and Gon’s grin widens, because it has been fun, in a weird sort of way that is absolutely and entirely them. “You have any idea how to get out of here?”

“Nope!” he says like it’s the greatest thing in the world to be stuck up a tree with murderous nen-using lumberjacks after him. And maybe it is, because he’s stuck up a tree with Gon. “You?”

“Yeah, maybe if we head southeast from here, I think the map Ikalgo gave us—” a map that had been lost along with most of their gear by going over the waterfall to escape the murderous lumberjacks “—said there’s a river that leads back to town. If we get there, we can lose those assholes, or lure them into a trap.”

Gon hums in acknowledgment, peering back down towards the forest floor. Far away, a bird call rings off the side of the mountains, echoing oddly despite the chaos-filled forest. It’s…weird. Too weird. Like all of their pursuers had mysteriously vanished. Or stopped. Or been stopped.

Gon notices, too. “Hey, Killua. You think it’s a little too quiet?”

“The lumberjacks scared off most of the wildlife,” Killua says. But there hasn’t been any noise since Killua relocated to the tree, a half-deafening silence compared to the chaotic mess they’d been running through until now. There’s a hundred reasons why that could happen, ranging from “got bored chasing a pair of Hunters” to “fell in a giant pit.” Killua hopes it’s more the latter, and that there were spikes at the bottom of the pit.

Whatever the reason, it’s the gap they need to get the hell out of here. “We should go while we can,” he says. Gon opens his mouth like he’s about to say something, but is stopped by the sound of splitting trunks and a thump like a two-ton boulder crashing through the forest. The lumberjacks begin bellowing again, this time with a noticeable tinge of terror.

“What—”

An enormous lizard monster barrels into the clearing behind them, dumping lumberjacks and pieces of hundreds-year-old forest with ever step and leaving a wide open path in its wake. On all fours, its head comes about halfway up the tree Gon and Killua are perched on, pebbled skin rippling with glimmers of gold and green. The lumberjacks, forcibly evicted from their cover in the trees by the force of giant angry beast, desperately scramble to get out of the thing’s way.

It looks up, black eyes shimmering with intelligence, and seems to lick its lips.

Killua gapes. “Great. Now we have a dinosaur trying to kill us, too?”

“That’s not a dinosaur, Killua. It’s a mountainous land moledragon. You don’t see a lot of those! They mostly live in alpine rainforests, and this is kind of out of its ordinary hunting grounds. I wonder if the lumberjacks woke it up.”

Said lumberjacks, no longer attempting to run away from the beast, set to attacking it with everything they’d been attacking Gon and Killua with before, making the dino—the mountainous land moledragon bellow, stomping with all four legs and making the whole forest tremble and leaves flutter down like green flags.

Gon nods. “See, if it were a dinosaur, it would sound more like a really big chicken—”

“I don’t care, Gon! Let’s get out of here before more of them find us.”

“Spinner will really want to know—”

“Running now, dinosaur later!” Killua grabs Gon’s hand and leaps off into the forest, electrifying his aura just enough to speed through the underbrush. If he used any more, he runs the risk of setting the forest on fire or losing Gon, and while his best friend is still pouting at the loss of the giant lizard, Killua’s just glad to get out of there.

“Southeast’s the other way. You sure you know where we’re going?” Gon asks after they’ve been running for long enough that they should have reached the river. Killua’s stopped using kanmuru, relying on his natural speed and Gon’s uncanny ability to find sure footing on the worst ground.

“It is not! We need to be heading towards the mountains.”

“No, it’s the opposite direction of the lake.”

“Why would it be there, we came from—”

The sound of mayhem explodes just behind them, and both Gon and Killua turn to see the moledragon spilling out of the trees, a few terrified lumberjacks barely hanging onto its flanks by what looks to be a makeshift harness made of rope and bits of tree trunks. The rest of the lumberjacks hurtle after them, calling out to their friends and screeching at the Hunters in equal volume. The moledragon snaps at the harness, swallowing two of the lumberjacks whole before they have time to scream.

That’s all it takes before Killua snatches Gon up in his arms and runs. No more time for argument, no worries that maybe Gon might be right this time about where to go. He flies over the forest floor, electricity singing in his hair and Gon’s voice laughing in his ear even as he’s still trying to yell that they’re going the wrong way. But Killua’s running too fast to care, and Gon’s arms are strong and warm around his neck and maybe this is all a vacation is supposed to be, Killua and his best friend and running—

But then the forest runs out way too soon, and Killua screeches to a halt just before he runs them both off a cliff.

The forest stretches out in front of them, nestled in the center of a valley dotted with shimmering lakes and a tiny line where the river curls its way out of the mountains and towards a village, somewhere far away. It’s like the green never ends, a world of its own with its own secrets to hide and its own adventures to make. Wisps of white cloud look almost like cotton candy against the mountains, nearly close enough overhead to touch. Far away, a flock of metallic birds bursts out of the treetops and glimmer in the sunlight as they ascend, too big to be anything Killua recognizes. Gon would probably know.

“I told you southeast was the other way,” Gon says.

Killua drops his best friend into the dirt, smirking when Gon whines from the sudden loss of support. He doesn’t need to be reminded. “We’re on vacation, right? This is supposed to be an adventure.”

Not an adventure that might get them killed, but hey. That’s part of the fun.

It draws a bark of laughter out of Gon, and Killua lets a smile grow on his face. “What do you think we should do?” he asks. “I’m running a little low on electricity, since we’re in the middle of nowhere. And you’re the one who seems to know where we are.”

Gon rolls his eyes, still lying prone on the ground. “I don’t know where we are, Killua. I know where we should be.”

Killua prods him with the toe of a shoe, right in the ticklish part. Gon squirms away at the last minute. “So where should we be, dumbass?”

Gon fidgets a little more, standing so he gets a better look at the forest below. “Wow, we’re really high up,” he mutters, and Killua elbows him because that is not helping. “Hey, Killua, I think that’s the clearing with Spinner’s flowers!”

Which is nowhere near where they need to go, and is actually useless right now when Killua can hear the sound of forest breaking and people screaming coming closer and closer. “And?” he demands.

“And—” Gon points out towards the river, his finger drifting away from the mountains and downhill “—we found what we’re looking for.”

“But how do we get there from here?”

Gon shrugs, a gleam in his eye that spells nothing but trouble. “We can go back through the forest with the moledragon. Or climb down from here? Maybe there’s a path…”

“How about I throw you off the cliff, and I’ll come up with a better plan for myself.”

“That’s no fair—”

The moledragon and the lumberjacks finally catch up with them, the former looking pleasantly well-fed as it crashes through the side of the clearing. There appear to be far less lumberjacks than there had been yesterday, and they definitely did not recently fall into a hole. They spill out of the clearing opposite the moledragon, trying to keep as much distance as possible between themselves and the beast while also cornering the pair of Hunters.

Serves them right, since they were trying to destroy the forest. Not that the moledragon is helping preserve the ecosystem, but this is its home. Judging by the vicious grin on his face, Gon’s ecstatic at this turn of events.

Gon glances between their opponents, sizing them up like he’s reading to fight them all. He probably would, if Killua asked. And he might even win, if Killua helped. “Do you have any plans, Killua?”

He makes a show of tapping a finger to his lips like he’s thinking. The head lumberjack growls, a noise echoed the moledragon. “I’m a little busy now, but I’m free tonight.”

Gon laughs. “Killua!”

“I’m serious! It’s been too long since we went somewhere normal. Let’s get ice cream. You’re buying.”

“No way. It’s your fault we got into this,” Gon says.

“It’s just as much yours. Just like everything.” He grabs Gon’s hand, lacing their fingers together so they’re palm to palm. Gon’s smile deepens, his eyes dancing in the sun.

The lumberjacks are still yelling something about intestines, or viscera, or what they’re planning on doing as soon as they get their hands on the wayward Hunters. The moledragon cocks its head at the humans, evidently trying to pick out which morsel it wants to devour first. And beneath Killua’s back foot, the edge of the cliff begins to crumble, bits of dirt cascading down…and down…and down…

Killua matches Gon grin for grin, a feeling like lightning making his blood race. “Besides. Even if it is not at all my fault we’re in this mess, I’m getting us out.”

“Yeah?” It’s a dare, a challenge, and a vote of trust all in a syllable, and Killua can’t help but love that. Love Gon.

So he tugs his best friend back towards him, kissing him fiercely. They only have a moment, but Killua relishes how perfectly Gon’s smile fits against his lips. Maybe this is exactly the right sort of vacation for them, after all.

“I definitely am,” Killua says, and throws them both off the cliff.

It’s a long way down. Gon laughs the entire way.

#killugon day #hunter x hunter #hxh #hxh fic #killugon #if you cut down a forest you will be eaten by a dinosaur #i don't make the rules #listen to your friendly neighborhood hunters and don't cut down forests #gon freecss #killua zoldyck #not a dinosaur a moledragon #my writing

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pixelpolaroid · 6 years

Text

Left with a memory- Chapter 14

Chapter 13

Interrogate

Jackie jumped from rooftop to rooftop. His normally red suit was in night mode now, so it was a much darker, shaded red instead of the bright red it normally was. He paused on one roof, looking down at the monitor of his watch. Good, he was still on track. He jumped to the next building, getting to the edge, then dropping down the fire escape into a dark alleyway. He look back into the brightly lit streets. Ireland was never this active. He turned away from it, pulling out the holoscreen on his watch. A dot appeared about 20 meters away as the hero began heading in that direction. Finally, he reached the backdoor of an abandoned shop, still with a dusty “For Rent” sign. He aggressively pushed on the door. It held little resistance before letting him in.

The hero closed the door behind him. The room was pitch black. He activated the flashlight on his watch, inspecting the surrounding. Finally, the light landed on a figure standing in the doorway to another room. “Your late,” He said coldly.

Jackie let out a heavy sigh. “Sorry Chase, got a little lost here. I’m not really used to LA yet,” He looked past Chase into the room he was guarding. “He hasn’t been much trouble has he?” Jackie inquired.

Chase looked over his shoulder. “So far no, he has been trying to signal for his brothers, but Jamie’s device seems to be fully operational now,” He gestured for Jackie to follow as he began to enter the room. Jackie trailed close behind.

As they entered, Jamie flicked a switch turning on a single over head light, Chase and Jamie stood behind the man tied tightly to the chair. He was completely unconscious. No sign of human life at all. Jackie looked up at Jamie. “Wake him up tinker.”

Jamie nodded, stepping behind the man. He snaked his hand on his side, up and under his shirt slightly. There was a loud click and Jamie stepped back as the one captured seemed to come back to life. “System back online. Error; receiving and transmission signals blocked. Attempting to fix problem.”

Jackie stepped closer to the android. “No point in trying that Google. Wake up and listen to me,” Googleplier’s eyes flashed yellow for a moment. He looked down, seeing he was tied up, he began to wiggle, trying to loosen the rope. He finally looked up at the hero.

“Jackieboy man?” He said questionable. “What are you doing?”

Jackie’s face stayed stone cold. “They call you Oliver right, not Google Yellow. I always wondered why exactly, but it seems that you’re the most human like android I’ve seen. There for, the most likely to help us.”

Oliver chuckled nervously. “If you want my help, this is a pretty rude way of asking for it. Why don’t you let me go and we can talk about this back at the Iplier egos’ place,” He hopefully suggested.

Jackie just shook his head. “The task we need you for is something that your brothers would never allow themselves to get involved in,” He stepped forward, grabbing the back of Oliver’s chair. “It’s about Anti. You know, Antisepticeye. The big bad glitch that’ll burn through your systems like microwave popcorn.”

Oliver nodded. “We’ve heard of him,” He swallowed heavily. If Jackie didn’t know any better, he’d think he was a real human, with the way he acted. “We’ve also heard that you’re the hero of the Septics. You don’t hurt people! Especially those who haven’t done anything wrong!” Oliver was pleading now. He seemed so scared.

Jackie looked down, taking a deep breath. He was a hero, and while he never would hurt anyone who didn’t have it coming, he had to play the antihero role for the moment. He looked back into Yellow’s eyes, a grave expression on his face. “That was before I lost two of my closest friends. You’ve never lost your brothers the way I have. Watching them die right before your eyes, and not being able to do a thing about it. Not even having their bodies to give a proper burial. Once hurts. Twice does something to you. You find that once it happens twice, you’d do anything to avenge them,” He leaned forward, tilting Oliver’s chair back on two legs. “Do you understand now where I’m coming from Oliver? I. Am. Desperate.” He emphasized those last words needing it to get across.

Chase took a small step forward, giving Jackie the look to cool down. The hero sighed, letting Oliver’s chair down. He looked back at the robot with a softer expression now. “Oliver, all I’m asking is do you know how to locate Anti?”

“H-how the h-hell would I-I know?” Oliver stumbled to get out.

“I said it before,” Jackie tutted. “You and Anti are basically complete opposites. So you can’t tell me you don’t have ways to figure out if he’s near,” Jackie could see Oliver’s systems were panicked. They were probably trying to reach the other Googles for help, but Jameson made a signal dampening collar specifically for this reason. “Come on Oliver, All I need is to know how to find him. He took,” Jackie choked on his words. “He took Marvin from us.”

Oliver looked up in shock. He always liked the little magician. Always so full of energy and positivity. The Septic and Iplier egos were never very close, except for Henrik and Dr. Iplier, but Oliver always hoped to get to know Marvin a little better. He thought they could have become good friends. The yellow droid nodded finally. “Electricity,” He said. “Anti is a creature of pure electricity. He feeds off it. If you can find a place that’s drained electricity like a running faucet, you should be able to find him.”

Jackie looked up at Chase and Jamie. It made sense. The way Anti pulled electricity from those wires at the factory, of course. “Jamie, remove it.” He instructed. Jamie took off the signal dampening collar from Oliver’s neck. “There, now signal for your brothers to come help you. Oh and Oliver,” Jackie held onto the droid’s shoulder. He looked into his eyes with the kindest expression, showing the yellow bot that all he saw before was the hero’s desperation. “Thank you.”

Oliver nodded. The other egos gathered, ready for Chase to teleport them back home. “Jackie,” He called before they left. “I’m sorry about what’s happened. Please, be careful when you find him.”

Jackie smiled sadly back at him. “We will be,” And with that, the egos were gone in a flash of light.

Anti walked into Marvin’s room holding his injection for the day. He paused however when he saw the magician… smiling? Anti tried to ignore it but as he got closer he could hear him humming something. He quickly finished the injection, ready to leave but something stopped him. Suddenly Marvin laughed. “Oh Anti~” He called in a sing-song voice. The glitch looked back at the magician. He kept humming.

Then, he was singing. “~One, two. They’re coming for you! ~ Three, four. Better lock your door ~” He let out a cold, mad laugh, neck snapping from side to side. “~They’re cooooming…~”

Something happened that Anti hadn’t seen in a long time; Marvin’s third eye opened. However, this time it wasn’t a bright, septic green, instead, it was pitch black with a dark green iris. Anti looked down at Marvin smiling. Finally. “So what do you think we should do about them. My little Dark Trickster?” He playfully asked, hands ghosting over his cuffed wrists.

Marvin’s hand bent side to side, bones popping beneath the skin. He smiled back up at Ant, both eyes turning dark green now instead of deep blue. “L͜e̕t'͏s͠ ̶h̡a͠ve ̕s̡o̴me ͞fun!”

#jackieboy man #chase brody #jameson jackson #googleplier #google oliver #antisepticeye #marvin the magnificent #dark trickster

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squidpro-quo · 6 years

Text

For @bakathief as your secret santa, I really hope this is to your liking! I couldn’t believe I’d gotten you in the gift exchange, I’ve been following you for a long time and I love your art and your blog as a whole!

The idea for this came from the prompt “shopping for presents/holiday food and they accidentally swap shopping carts and have to find each other and trade them back” au because it seemed like the type of shenanigans they’d have fun with :P

Shinichi considered the puzzle book with a frown, it wasn’t at a very difficult level since he’d solved the one at the back already but Haibara would want something that was actually challenging. A normal crossword book probably intended for grandmas wasn’t going to cut it.

Putting it back on the shelf, he turned to push his cart further down the aisle while he perused the rest of the brainteasers and sudoku compilations. After a few seconds of struggling to push a much heavier cart than he seemed to remember having, he finally looked down to see why.

Instead of his paltry selection of food and possible gifts, there was all manner of sweets and cookies along with a few more questionable items. Like the several gallons of bleach stored on the bottom and the dozen or so ice-packs tossed in beside the milk and bags of candy. Not to mention the meters of electrical wire and large gardening shears stuffed below two tubs of icing.

Perhaps it was just the string of cases he’d solved that week or the amount of times he’d been by the police station recently, but Shinichi had to wonder what murder could possibly be committed and then covered up with the contents of his new shopping cart. Bleach to get the bloodstains out, ice to possibly preserve the body before it’s disposed of, without even getting started on a possible purpose for the gardening shears.

He needed to find whose cart this was, if only to satisfy his own burning curiosity and get his stuff back. Throwing his weight against the handlebar, he made it to the end of the aisle and looked around. If he were the culprit, where would he go? Based on the items already picked out, not toward the dairy section or the snacks. Household cleaners were also out of the running and the perpetrator likely hadn’t been done shopping yet since the cart had been facing away from checkout.

Shinichi sighed and headed to the right, the wheels on the cart squeaking in protest at the sharp turn. How had this even happened? He’d turned around for barely a few minutes and someone had managed to bumble around enough to steal his stuff from right under his nose. He let his guard down for a second and this is what happens.

Checking the aisles he passed, he’d begun to doubt whether he’d picked the right direction when he got to the toy area and saw his cart parked in the middle. And there was the thief, picking through his items with a look of confusion.

If Shinichi was being honest, he could have been stuck with a much worse-looking shoplifter. The scarf tucked under his chin and the brown hair sticking out from under a striped blue hat, Shinichi found the image rather endearing. His thief looked up at the rattle of wheels and grinned when he saw Shinichi.

“There it is! I was wondering if I’d forgot what I’d put in my own basket,” he said, rolling the cart over. “Don’t know how that happened, I just noticed myself.”

“I can’t fathom how you managed that either. That’s quite a talent,” Shinichi agreed.

“Why thank you, I didn’t do it on purpose but at least I’m apparently good at it. I’m Kaito, might as well tell you my name in case you decide to arrest me,” Kaito said with a grin. He pushed Shinichi’s cart toward him and pulled his own forward to turn it around.

“It’s my day off anyway, so don’t worry.” Shinichi took his cart back, finding himself a little loathe to end the conversation just yet. “Name’s Shinichi. I have to ask, what are you planning on doing with all that bleach and those shears?”

Kaito shrugged, leaning on the handlebar of his cart with his head propped up on the heel of his hand as he watched Shinichi intently. Unused to such close scrutiny, Shinichi felt like he should fix his collar or try and look more presentable.

“Oh, I have some bed sheets I need to clean because I got dye all over them and I like to make my own christmas lights.”

Shinichi looked at Kaito and he could believe it. The mischievous smile, the calluses on his fingers and the obvious sweet tooth, Kaito seemed like the type of person who would have fun with dyes and messing around with electrical wiring.

“Those sound like some interesting hobbies.”

“They’re good for coming up with new magic tricks. What do you do for fun?”

“Solve murder mysteries,” Shinichi answered reflexively before he could consider that that might not have been the best way to phrase his reply.

“So you’re a detective?” Kaito’s eyes lit up and Shinichi was just a little bit enamored by the sight.

“Yeah.”

“Does that mean you can deduce everything about a person from just a look?” Kaito seemed to be daring him with his smile and Shinichi was never one to back down from a challenge. Plus it was better than admitting that his first thought after finding his cart missing had been about what kind of killer would buy those things.

“Most of the time, some people are harder to read.”

“What am I?”

“You’re... cute,” Shinichi said and when Kaito’s jaw dropped a tad, he wondered if he’d gone wrong. Before he could correct himself, Kaito reached out a hand palm upward across the expanse of their pushed together carts. Shinichi stared at it in confusion until Kaito flicked his wrist and suddenly held an egg decorated with swirls of black.

“Eggcuse me, who said you could be charming in the first few minutes of meeting?” Kaito asked, balancing the egg on the tips of his fingers.

“Wh- I… Wait, I’m charming?” he asked, taking the egg gingerly and looking between its intricate design and Kaito. He felt like his attempt at flirting had been turned on its head but he found he didn’t mind it much. Something about the pattern on the egg caught his attention and as he turned it over in his hand he noticed the numbers hidden in the curlicues.

“Do you give your phone number to every detective you meet?” He met Kaito’s gaze with an amused smirk, his mind still puzzling over how he could have done it.

“No, just the ones I’m interested in.”

“Interested in what?”

“Going out for coffee? A date? Take your pick, detective, I’m sure you’ll come up with something. Give me a call when you do,” Kaito said, waving jauntily as he headed down the aisle. Casting a last glance over his shoulder, he winked and disappeared around the corner.

Shinichi looked down at the egg still cradled in his hand and tucked it in his pocket with a mental note to give him a call as soon as he could. It seemed like he’d caught a thief, and he wasn’t about to let him go.

#dcmk-secretsanta #kaito kid #kudo shinichi #kaishin #detective conan #magic kaito #My writing #yeah the bleach is for cleaning out the stains in his kaito kid costume #and the wiring is for his next heist #but shhhhhh he has to impress the hot guy who caught him redhanded #bakathief

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kitanoko · 7 years

Note

Drunk Todoroki and Sober Momo?

Note: Thanks! This is rated T and comedic. I had fun writing this so I hope you’ll have fun reading too!

In which Todoroki tells her everything

Drinkingseemed to be the choice nowadays when someone suggested a meet up. Not thatTodoroki was against it; he just wasn’t used to some of the places that hisfriends took him to. He despised places with gaudy décor, presumptuous staff, andmost of all, he hated the places where you had to shout your lungs out just sothe person sitting a millimeter away from you could ask you again what you weresaying.

Todaywas different though; a new bar opened up right next to the agency Tokoyami wasworking at and Tokoyami claimed that he was sure it was ideal for a chill,quiet hangout, and so the gang met up there.

“Howmany phone numbers did Todoroki get again last time?” Kaminari chugged his beerand let out a satisfied sigh, reeking of alcohol, “8?”

Theelectric hero turned toward Todoroki and draped an arm over him, “Have youcontacted anyone of them? How about that chick with the red hair last time? Shewas hot dude!” Tokoyami waved at the server as Midoriya put down the menus andcalled for another round of beers, both of them interested in the others’conversation.

“No, Ihaven’t,” Todoroki replied with no smile in sight, “I threw them out inMidoriya’s car.”

Midoriyaplaced his hand on his forehead, looking quite upset, “you have no idea howmuch trouble I got with Ochako because of that. She thought those were my ‘keepsake’.Could you please give me a heads-up next time?”

“Ohsorry,” Todoroki mused and Kaminari chuckled at the thought of Uraraka’s angryface. No one has ever seen her be annoyed at Midoriya before so that must be asight to behold.

“Andcould we not mention this when she gets here with the others?” Midoriya leanedback against the plush couch, “I don’t want to relive that.”

“Next time you could just givethem to me. I’ll make good use of them, ” Kaminari said as the server laiddown the fresh drinks, “speaking of which, I went with Yaoyorozu once andshe got quite a few suitors too, if you know what I mean.”

At that,Todoroki pretended to hold a nonchalant façade. The sudden murderous aura thatpoured out of him, however, was enough to betray him. He shifted his gazedownwards, reaching to discard his empty bottle over at Tokoyami’s side and thelatter cocked an eyebrow.

“Catgot your tongue?” Tokoyami said in a teasing tone, “you seemed like you wantedto comment, Todoroki.”

“I don’tcare,” the fire and ice hero ran a hand through his hair, “It’s her life. Whyshould I?”

“You’rekidding,” Kaminari pushed on, “Remember last time when that guy from thesupport department in third year accidentally touched Yaomomo’s chest andhe somehow slipped on ice and broke his leg?”

“Yeahthat looked painful, “Todoroki avoided their stares and took another swig outof his drink.

Kaminariscoffed, “Yeah it was during the summer. Where the hell did the ice come from?And don’t tell me it was a coincidence that you were standing a meter away fromhim.”

“I wasjust passing by,” Todoroki said, “I have no idea what you’re accusing me of,but I was the one who took him to the infirmary. Either ways, he probablydeserved it.”

Tokoyamiand Midoriya looked entertained, shifting their bodies to get a better view ofthis. If only they had popcorn to accompany them.

“Okay,”Kaminari now sounded quite agitated. Getting Todoroki to admit that he had acrush on a certain Yaoyorozu was a challenge he refused to lose, “You’re gonna takecare of our bill if something happens between you and Yaoyorozu tonight. And ifI’m wrong, then I’ll take the bill, how’s that?”

“I’mdown for free beer,” Todoroki nodded, looking quite confident, “You’ve got adeal.”

It wasn’tuntil the guys were on their fourth round of alcohol had Yaoyorozu, Jirou andUraraka shown up. Midoriya was passed out with half his body threatening totumble off the chair, while the other three had reddened faces. Waving a handat them, Jirou plopped down beside Kaminari and Uraraka quickly sat herboyfriend up. Pressing on the side of her phone, Yaoyorozu winced as the brightscreen flashed before her.

“I’msorry we’re late,” Yaoyorozu said.

“That’sfine,” Tokoyami handed the newcomers each a beer, “if you guys want somethingto munch on feel free.”

“Yeahthe bill’s on Todoroki tonight so whatever,” Kaminari smirked, eyes dartingover to the boy beside him as he slurred his words together.

Yaoyorozuwedged herself between Tokoyami and Jirou, “What’s the occasion, Todoroki? Didyou get a promotion or something?”

Todorokisquinted at the electric hero beside him and stood up suddenly at the assertion,walking away from their table with a drink in hand.

“Did Isay something wrong?” Yaoyorozu scrunched her brows. Todoroki’s gait was wonkyas he stopped at the bar that lined the dance floor, pulling a bill out of hiswallet in a rush as he ordered yet another drink. He was showing clear signs ofdrunkiness and Yaoyorozu couldn’t help but stand up in pursuit.

“I’mgonna make sure he’s okay,” the girl fixed her pony-tail up a bit and gesturedto the others, “you guys don’t have to wait for me to order.”

Jirouand Uraraka sat in confusion, the former turned to Kaminari, “what happened toTodoroki?” With a flick of her wrist, she checked her watch, “11:02 seems waytoo early for you guys to get this drunk. How many beers did you guys have?”

“Probably6-7 and a few tequila shots,” Kaminari said, head falling back to hit thecushion, “I might’ve pissed off Todoroki a bit, but it’s for his own good.”

“Todoroki,”Yaoyorozu bent down to touch her heel gingerly, feeling a scrape forming fromher leather stilettos. She knew she should’ve broken them in first beforewearing them. She leaned her left arm on a nearby column and shifted her weighttoward it, eyes now staring at the boy before her. Todoroki’s mouth formed athin line.

“Youshould sit down, you don’t look so good,” the girl urged, “I bet you weredrinking non-stop.”

Todorokibrushed it off, “Go enjoy yourself,” he closed his eyes and softly rubbed histemples in attempt to stop his headache, “I’m fine, I’ll just take a breakhere.”

Yaoyorozunodded, “Okay well-“

“Hey,”Jirou tapped Yaoyorozu lightly on the shoulder, interrupting her train ofthought, and her eyes scanned the boy’s drunken state, “Yaoyorozu and I’llhit the dance floor, so you should wipe that silly grin off your face and makesure not to projectile vomit everywhere.”

Had hebeen smiling this whole time? Heck, he sure wouldn’t be if not for the alcoholacting up. In preparation to send Jirou a comeback, Todoroki opened his mouth,gaping. Yet, before any words could come out, he realized that the two girlswere already in the middle of the floor, moving their bodies to the brash rhythmof the music.

He felt odd, however. Watching as a guyaround Yaoyorozu danced with her, his body language commanding her to move withhim and Todoroki felt like he popped a vein. He couldn’t describe the pent up feeling he was experiencing at the momentand he wasn’t sure if it was because of the alcohol or not, but judging by thesly grin on the guy’s face, Todoroki was sure he hated that guy. His legs beganto move on his own and within a few seconds, he pushed through and pulledYaoyorozu to him.

“Hey, you’re ruining our fun man,”Todoroki could piece some of that guy’s words together through his dizziness as he dragged her out of thecrowd. He didn’t bother to answer. Heading towards the corner of the facility, sheprotested the whole way until he led her out the exit door.

“What’s going on?” Yaoyorozu said,stumbling, “Jirou’s probably wondering where the heck I went.”

Todoroki let go of her hand andleaned against the alleyway. Wiping a hand along his flushed face, he grunted.

“Yaoyorozu I need some advice. It’surgent.”

The girl tapped her finger at herside, “I’ll do what I can to help, if you had to drag me all the way out hereto tell me…. It must be quite important.”

“Yeah quite,” even through hisblurry vision, he could make out the concerned look that she donned, “I thinkthere’s something wrong with me and of course, you, being someone who’s highlycapable of complex analysis, should be able to tell me why.”

He’s rambling now, “My heartbeat’sbeen quite irregular. In fact, every time I see you, my heart just goes insane.I don’t know what is wrong with me.”

He picked up his head, noticingthe shocked expression on her face and he moved forward to put a hand on hercheek.

“I think you’re…you’re drunk,Todoroki! You don’t know what you’re saying-“

“Let me continue,” he replied,taking a step closer.

She can smell a mix of alcoholand lime in his breath as he began to ease his forehead on hers. She rememberedhim being only a bit taller than her, but within a year, that fact has changed. Her face was as hot as his now, and she found herself placing both herhands behind his broad shoulders.

Staying in that position, hecontinued to spew, “Why is it that every time I see you with someone else…anotherguy…I just feel so mad.” He made a thoughtful pause, “I have the utmost respectfor you. For as long as I could remember, I never really thought much of it. But now that we’ve graduated, I…I still think of you. In fact, I think of you a lot. Could you tell me why?”

Yaoyorozu batted her eyelashes asthe cold air contrasted against their body warmth. No reply came from her, andslowly but steadily, Todoroki tilted her chin upwards with a light finger.Guiding the girl, he moved forward to capture her lips and she tightened hergrasp on his back instantly at the sudden sensation. He tasted like spice andshe tasted like strawberries and cream.

He was sure that was a dream. Hadit not been his phone notification of 39 missed calls would he have realized thatKaminari was ready to rub it in his face first thing in the morning.

“You owe me for yesterday,”Kaminari’s voice came loud and clear and Todoroki sat up from his bed. Grippingonto the phone tighter, he groaned.

“Fine,” The boy grabbed a handfulof his hair as he leaned forward, “Do you know exactly what happened?”

“Jirou told me you draggedYaomomo out to the alley and that’s it. You two just disappeared,” Kaminari snickered, “apparently there’smore to it, Yaomomo has yet to reveal though.” Todoroki could practically see hisfriend’s smug scowl as he continued, “What a twist, who knew you were so bold.”

“Shut up,” Todoroki said,irritated. As he smothered himself against his pillow, he noticed anuncharacteristically floral scent. Round-eyed, he turned to his left anddiscovered something pink peeking out of the blanket.

“Oh no.”

“What?” Todoroki heard Kaminariask and his hand lifted up the fleece covering. There, a garment that appearedto be a lacy bralette, lied crumpled.

“…I’ll phone you later, Kaminari,” Todoroki took a deep breath and hung up without warning. He honestly felt like his mind was in a blender.

How was he going to confront hernow?

READ PART TWO HERE

#kaminari denki #jirou kyouka #todoroki shouto #yaoyorozu momo #midoriya izuku #tokoyami fumikage #bnha #mha #fanfic request #todomomo #todoroki x momo #todoroki x yaoyorozu #boku no hero academia #my hero academia

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jessicakmatt · 4 years

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What are LUFS? Loudness Metering Explained

What are LUFS? Loudness Metering Explained: via LANDR Blog

LUFS are the new way to measure loudness in audio.

This new measurement scale is an important development for many issues in music production.

But understanding LUFS can be pretty difficult at first. They’re different from the ways you’re probably used to measuring your signals.

Even so, these new units are being used all over the audio world. It’s important to know how they work to understand the role of loudness in audio production.

In this article I’ll go over everything you need to know about LUFS.

What are LUFS?

LUFS stands for Loudness Units relative to Full Scale. It’s a standardized measurement of audio loudness that factors human perception and electrical signal intensity together. LUFS are used to set targets for audio normalization in broadcast systems for cinema, TV, radio and music streaming.

If that sounds complicated, it just means that LUFS are the latest and most precise way to measure loudness in audio.

As simple as it seems, using LUFS for loudness has some important consequences that everyone who produces music should understand.

Why do we use LUFS?

You may not realize it, but most of the audio you hear in your daily life is tightly produced to sound great in the environment where you experience it.

Movies, TV, radio and streaming services all feature audio meticulously designed to work perfectly on each platform.

But how did we get there? Someone had to decide on the audio standards for each different medium in order to make consistent sound possible.

LUFS are one of the latest tools engineers and researchers developed to help us make those decisions.

By integrating the loudness of audio signals and human perception into a single scale, LUFS acts as a kind of audio measuring tape.

The units help engineers compare different types of audio and match them to the requirements of their respective listening environments.

Loudness in music production

The biggest obstacle for consistent sound across mediums is loudness.

It seems like an easy problem, but making everything the same volume for every different playback system out there is pretty tough.

For starters, what even is loudness?

In your DAW you might think of the dB levels on your track meters. That’s a good start, but it doesn’t tell the whole story.

This type of loudness is a property of signals. But it might surprise you to learn that it doesn’t translate directly to how we experience loudness.

The reasons why aren’t exactly straightforward. It has to do with the technique used to measure the signal and the structure of our inner ears themselves.

To learn more about how loudness works, check out our overview.

When it comes to music perception and cognition, things get even more murky, but we broke down the basics in our guide to psychoacoustics.

To fix it, engineers developed a way to gauge listeners’ perceived loudness and signal intensity at the same time—LUFS!

How to use LUFS

Metering audio with LUFS is a little different from the other loudness measures you’re used to.

First off, there are a few different ways to use it. Here are the most important ones.

Integrated loudness

Imagine you’re mixing a film soundtrack.

There are some extremely loud scenes with explosions and intense music, and others with barely any sound at all as the characters sit in silence. How loud should the mix be overall?

To make a judgement you’d need to take the entire duration of the mix into account. That measurement is called integrated loudness. It’s recorded in LUFS.

Film and TV have strict standards for integrated loudness that are set in LUFS values.

Dynamic range

Dynamics are important in any recorded audio. But how big should the difference between loud and quiet really be?

LU—or LUFS without the “full scale” part—can help answer that question. LU uses the same perception based units to evaluate how loud something seems to you.

But when you measure dynamic range in LU it’s no longer relative to full scale. Instead, it tells you the difference between the quietest and loudness sound over time like integrated LUFS.

Many standards organizations publish recommended dynamic range figures for their audio content.

Short term LUFS

Integrated LUFS tells you about the whole audio file, but you need to take a closer view of individual sections of sound to get the whole picture.

Even if your track hits the overall LUFS target, there still might be some sections that are too loud or too quiet.

Short term LUFS gives you perceived loudness over the last three seconds three seconds of audio.

Momentary LUFS

Momentary LUFS is the shortest period LUFS measurement. It’s the closest in style to the electrical Peak measurement you’d find on your DAW’s dB meter, but it’s not quite the same.

Momentary LUFS is measured across the last 400 ms of audio.

That’s the kind of fine grain level of detail you need to know exactly you loud your material sounds in the moment.

Why do LUFS matter?

At some point in the history of audio engineering, the music industry decided that recordings should be loud.

The idea was that listeners would subconsciously prefer the CD that sounded loudest on their CD player.

The evidence to support the theory was thin, but it set off a boundary-pushing race called “the loudness war.”

Eventually the trend wore out and loudness was reigned in when streaming platforms like Spotify and Apple Music took over.

Those platforms use LUFS to evaluate loudness.

Since LUFS indicates the perceived loudness, engineers are no longer racing toward the physical limit of the medium’s headroom.

Instead they’re aiming for a target that’s much more in tune with how listeners perceive loudness—and it’s not even close to the max!

Understanding this paradigm shift is important for how you work with your mix in its final stages of development.

In most workflows, these issues will come up most during mastering. Modern mastering is a highly technical art form that pushes your volume levels right to the edge—but never over it.

LUFS is the tool that makes it possible. Measuring audio correctly and hitting the right targets is a key part of any mastering process.

But if you don’t have the tools and experience to evaluate loudness this way, you should consider leaving mastering to the experts.

Whether you decide to hire a professional or try AI mastering, good mastering means getting loudness right every time.

Accurate audio metering

LUFS are an important technical standard in audio.

Loudness is a complicated subject, but with the right tools you can understand how it works and how it impacts your sound.

The post What are LUFS? Loudness Metering Explained appeared first on LANDR Blog.

from LANDR Blog https://blog.landr.com/lufs-loudness-metering/ via https://www.youtube.com/user/corporatethief/playlists from Steve Hart https://stevehartcom.tumblr.com/post/628078287468511232

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bestfriendforhire · 4 years

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Children of BFFH, Entry 55

As we approached the factory where Granddad was doing an inspection, my sisters and I could hardly contain our excitement. All of us had created new toys to demonstrate our skills to him, since we hadn’t seen him in person since our birthday in October!

Our moms sighed dramatically before one of them said, “Are you four behaving?”

“Of course, Mom!” we all replied.

“You can see us!” insisted Aika, motioning to all of us.

“Are you certain that you’re not up to trouble?” questioned the other. “You seem extraordinarily quiet.”

“Yes, Mom!” we assured her.

Then Maiko said, “We’re just excited!”

“Really?” asked Dad, feigning surprise. “I never would’ve guessed with Maimo and Aiko practically crawling over you two to see out the window.”

“We are not!” I exclaimed with Aiko. Our moms would be mad if we were misbehaving.

“Oh.” replied Dad, looking disappointed. “Sounds boring. You should go find your Granddad.” he told us with a grin.

All of us instantly looked to our moms expectantly. They rolled their eyes at us and motioned to the doors before asking Mila to slow the limo down briefly.

“If you get caught, you’ll be studying this whole trip.” stated the one on the left.

Then the other said, “And try not to scare anyone too much, other than your Grandfather, of course.”

We nodded, slipping out of the car immediately and jogging to pull our gear out of the trunk before Mila shut it and sped the limo away. Then we hurried into a nearby grove of trees to hide as we got ready.

:Time?: asked Maiko in our heads, stashing our cases underground the moment we were finished.

:One minute lost.: replied Aiko after glancing at her phone.

:The car should take at least seven minutes to get there if Mila doesn’t speed up.: reported Aika, checking the position of the drone she had launched when we got out of the car through the wrist interface we based off Aspy’s. :Let’s try reaching the factory in two minutes cutting over the field. Then we can have five minutes to find and attack Granddad before our parents call us off.:

:Agreed.: we all stated, activating our camouflage—a combination of enchantment and light-bending technology. Though not as perfect as the Boss’ invisibility spells, noticing us would be extremely difficult for an average person. Sadly, our enchantments needed us to constantly feed them magic, since we had no hope of memorizing the massive spell the Boss used.

“Ow!” I exclaimed, zapping the offending bug that had bitten me. Times like this, I really envied my friends who could use their fey talents to keep insects at bay.

:Shows that we should create a thermal cloak too for these suits.: insisted Aiko, who had wanted to build one from the start. Unfortunately, she didn’t have any brilliant suggestion on what to use without copying Dad or asking for help. There was a brief argument over other means the insect could’ve used to find me.

Without another word, we took off on our personal zoomies, which we designed after studying the originals years ago. Aurora had fixed a few problems for us, but most of the work was ours. Our fleet of drones followed us, spacing several meters apart to avoid creating a large distortion with their camouflage.

:Six minutes left.: reported Aika when we arrived. :Mila slowed down for us. The crossing took two and a half minutes. Maika and I will take floors three and four.:

All of us were a little disappointed that Mila was needing to help us, but we were grateful for the extra time. Not wanting to waste anymore time, Aika sped herself away with her power. The rest of us did the best we could with comparatively clunky spells.

With the factory currently open, there wouldn’t likely be too much security, just the typical guards at the door from our extended family. If our moms actually told Granddad that we were coming, he probably would have cancelled his plans and used his military-grade resources for personal security, but our moms never warned him before our visits.

:He’s not in any of the fourth floor offices.: stated Aika, having already unleashed her drones alone with Maiko’s.

Aiko and I had barely started the search of the first floor due to having to slip in through an open loading door, but I struck gold before replying, sharing what I saw with them immediately. Granddad was discussing something with another man in a suit.

I grinned as our drones updated the map of the factory floor with marks for the workers. Thanks to our luck, we could wait a couple minutes for Granddad to move into a more favorable position before engaging, but the wait stretched on as he continued talking with the other man.

:Only one minute left.: stated Aika. :Maimo, take care of the lights and transfer command functions for your drones.:

I pouted, but did what she said. The factory had enough lighting that I’d need to concentrate if I didn’t want to blow the circuits. My sisters couldn’t hope to control the electricity precisely enough. Even concentrating, I was able to enjoy the show on the control screen, still feeding video from one of my drones.

Granddad had done a brilliant job dodging and blocking the first wave of our foam darts, despite the darkness. Like Aika and our uncle, Granddad could feel and control airflow, giving him a tremendous advantage against such attacks, but he was also limited by the humans near him as well as the equipment he didn’t want to damage. To sneak up on him, we had to drastically increase the range of our darts, so the drones could be far enough away that he wouldn’t notice them. Him being distracted by work was probably helping our cause as well.

“GIRLS!” exclaimed Grandad, looking around in the dark.

I did my best to rush inside after my sisters, but I needed to keep focus till I arrived. After we dropped our camouflage, I let the lighting resume functioning.

“Yes, Granddad?” we asked, grinning up at him, doing our best not to laugh at the hilarious expression on the man standing next to him.

“Give this old man a hug.” he told us,spreading his arms. While we were still hugging him, he said, “Then you can clean up this mess while I arrange some free time.”

“Oh, wait!” exclaimed Maiko.

“Watch this!” insisted Aiko.

The other three deactivated the drone camouflage, and control of mine was passed back to me. Then we demonstrated the reload function of our drones, giggling as the man by Granddad jumped. In his defense, he did have forty drones swooping around them as they collected their ammo.

“Very nice, girls. You’ll have to show me your designs in… ten minutes? Wait, are your moms…” he started, spinning around when he realized our parents had already arrived.

“Daughters!” he called, forcing a grin. “Oh, Jarod. I’m so glad you’re here as well.”

“Trying to say something, Father?” questioned one of our moms as she embraced him.

“Well?” questioned the other on his opposite side.

“Of course not!” insisted Granddad, obviously lying. Our moms always made him sweat.

Due to their closeness with Momma Alma, our moms were considered higher ranked within our family than Granddad was, which meant they technically had control over his interests whenever they wanted. He didn’t always appreciate their jokes on him.

“Pleasure seeing you again, Walter.” stated Dad as he offered his hand to shake.

Granddad shook Dad’s hand and then turned to his associate, saying, “Heinrich, let me introduce you to my granddaughters, daughters, and son-in-law.”

Nodding quickly to my sisters and me, Heinrich eagerly stepped over to shake Dad’s hand. “You’re Jarod Davis?” he asked, sounding hopeful. When Dad nodded, he said, “That explains these marvels. Are they a new model?”

“Umm… No. Sorry. I thought you’d be attempting to develop the designs I showed you on your own, so I never worked on those again. My daughters designed the drones around us. They enjoy tinkering as much as I do.”

Heinrich’s jaw literally dropped as he looked from the drones to my sisters and me. “Girls, these are amazing. What sort of power source are you using to give such tiny drones a cloaking device?”

“Sorry, Heinrich.” responded Aika. “Our designs have to be kept classified, since they’re all created in Dad’s lab. Any negotiation on that has to go through our parents.”

“Yes, of course.” he told us, turning back to our parents. “Would you…”

Interrupting him, Dad said, “Send me an email on your interests, and I’ll let you know what I’m willing to do, unless you’d rather go through Ai and Mai’s company.” He motioned to our moms.

“Uh…. Let’s table that thought for now. Please, go find me some time to spend with my family, since they’re visiting.” insisted Granddad.

“Six hours at least.” stated one of our moms with a smile, causing Granddad to nod quickly to Heinrich.

Then our other mom asked “Care to join us for lunch, Father?”

“You do realize that you always cost me when you don’t schedule in advance.” stated Granddad as he walked with us toward the entrance.

“What would you expect of your daughters?” inquired our moms in unison.

“With twin daughters and four granddaughters, you know you’ll never win any better than I do.” teased Dad, who was actually very good at winning when he wanted to have his way. Though not the Boss or Auntie Aaliyah, our Dad was a legend in the tech world as well as the Slayer family, being the master of Muramasa.

Granddad laughed, saying, “I’d be happy to win as often as you do, but I can’t even hope for it.”

“What if we take your side, Granddad?” suggested Maiko, grinning at him.

Glancing back, he said, “Then we’ll do great until your parents tell you to stop helping me.” He laughed again, slowing down to wrap his arms around all four of us. “Let me know when you four manage to beat your moms in a fight, and then we can really work together.”

“Jarod, our father is conspiring against us with our children.” stated the mom on the right.

Then the one on the left poked his side and asked “You wouldn’t turn as well, would you?”

“No, I want to choose life.” teased Dad. “Besides, I sorta like having you two around occasionally.”

“Granddad,” started Aiko with a grin, “have we told you about our friend, Crazy?”

Seeing his blank expression and knowing we hadn’t, I said, “I’m sure we can convince her to help us take on our moms.”

Spinning around and pointing a finger at each of us, our moms said, “Don’t you dare.”

We nodded, grinning as innocently as we could manage.

When they started walking again, Granddad asked “Who’s Crazy now?”

“The granddaughter of Aaliyah Sypher.” stated Aiko.

“And one of the strongest of our friends.” added Aika.

“Ai, do you think we should arrange a friendly match for our father?” questioned the mom who might be Mai.

“Oh, I’m sure he’d be interested in seeing what sort of spells an eight-year-old can use to gain praise from our daughters.” replied our other mom.

Talking over their shoulders, they asked “What do you think, Father? Interested?”

Dad quickly shot him a warning look, shaking his head, despite our moms punching his sides..

“No. No, I think I’d rather just spend time with all of you.” insisted Granddad. “Now if Lady Pendreigh were young, I’m sure she would have jumped at the opportunity.”

Our moms laughed as Dad said, “And have been handily beaten. All of James’ kids together don’t like trying to fight that one. She gets a bit carried away at times.”

We felt Granddad tense up, so Aika and I moved to push him forward till he got in the car. Then all of us guided our drones back into the trunk. We’d stop for our cases on the way.

Once the limo was on its way, we saw Granddad cast a basic set of warding spells around the car. Then he said, “You shouldn’t joke like that. I know Lady Pendreigh has grown kinder, but she might get insulted if she’s told.” He looked completely bewildered when all of us laughed.

“Alaric is in the country as well, wanting to play with the rest of the kids. We’ll bet you ten million dollars that he goes out of his way not to even glance at Serenity angrily.” teased the mom claiming to be Ai.

“But he’s a Slayer, and a couple years older than her!” exclaimed Granddad.

“And completely terrified of her.” stated Dad, openly grinning. “There was an incident when Serenity was a toddler. James had to step in to save the poor boy. The kids call Serenity ‘Crazy’ for a good reason. She really tries to be a good girl, but she does get carried away.”

“She’s impaled herself before.” offered Maiko.

“And half of our battle rules are there to prevent her from repeating crazy antics, like poisoning everyone.” added Aika.

Nodding, Aiko said, “She can easily trap Maiko underground, and Maiko’s the one who can control dirt and stone.”

“She doesn’t even need healed when she injures herself. The wounds just vanish at times.” I explained, wanting Granddad to believe us.

“What sort of magic does she have?” asked Granddad, still sounding bewildered.

“A cross between the magic of demons and a plant-type fey.” replied Momma Mai.

“She really is comparable to a large army, just like Lady Pendreigh was, but the healing is no joke.” insisted Momma Ai.

“We’re fairly certain she can’t die.” they told him together.

“But if the girls call in Crazy’s aid, I’ll have to ask Raine to help my wives to even the playing field. I’m sure you remember meeting her.” stated Dad with an amused grin.

Granddad nodded glumly and said, “See. I just can’t win.” Then he reached around my sisters and me to hug us all again. “I am glad you all have such wonderful friends. So where are we eating?”

As we discussed lunch plans, dinner plans, and everything that would happen between the two, my sisters and I started coming up with a plan to tease Granddad using an illusion of Auntie Raine in her hybrid form. If we each handled different parts, we should be able to cast the spells quickly enough to shock him. Granddad would think something is wrong if we let him go the rest of the day without any more teasing!

#Children of BFFH #Children #of #BFFH #Jovial Times #Jovial #Times #Fantasy #Fiction #Story

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valmaior-blog · 6 years

Text

It Begins...

So, at the beginning of February, Ping and I, and our lawyer, and two real estate agents, two registration officials, 8 sellers and their lawyer, piled into a government registration office to sign contracts, and swap funds for keys. Couldn't all fit in, so we had to move to a bigger office in the next building.

It seems to be an excessively complex procedure, further confused by the question "what type of marriage do you have?"

In Portugal, it seems that there are 3 choices,

1) Both parties are financially independent.

2) Everything is shared,

3) Everything is shared from the date of the marriage.

I don't know which we got. Every page of the contract has to be signed by all concerned after being read aloud and corrected where errors were spotted ID documents for everyone recorded, financial numbers recorded.

I handed over a large cheque, and received a bunch of keys. Next a registration fee to be paid, then another registration fee to be paid. Then we were done, Only took 90 minutes. We have a house in Portugal :-D, a compromise between my isolated mountain farmhouse within walking distance of nothing, and Ping’s downtown apartment within walking distance of a shopping mall.

Said goodbye to our lawyer, who is a classic. Short, tubby, elderly, bald, but the remaining hair on the side was partly covering his ears. As well as being a solicitor, he does legal stuff for the local town hall, and is also a barrister. A useful person to know.

Then we went home though not to the new house, it would have been getting dark when we arrived, and there was no electricity or water. Next day we went to our house, and noticed many problems which we had not spotted on our previous visits. This house has been empty for a long time, many years I guess. The house has internal shutters on the windows, and a few broken windows, broken long enough for the internal shutters to show significant weathering behind the broken panes.

No heating, not even a fireplace. The kitchen seems to be a later addition, and does have a chimney, but no fireplace.

The house is built on the side of a hill, which seems to be the norm in rural Portugal, so we have a half cellar. with walls 80 cm thick. The main house walls are only 60 cm, and the kitchen walls are 55 cm.

A few days later, we were arranging to have water and electricity supplies reconnected. The water man arrived first, fitted a new meter. The water meter box in the garden wall had pipes but no meter,

I was doing something elsewhere, when Ping came and told me the water was connected. I tried the taps - nothing, I checked stop taps, nothing. I went out to see the guy and he demonstrated. Turn water on at the meter, jet of water gushes out of his newly fitted pipe protruding from the other side of the wall. He went away with a "my job here is done" shrug. So, water available outside the house, how to get it inside.

The idea of drilling holes through thick stone walls didn't appeal.

The house has a bathroom, with shower, toilet, washbasin and bidet. (I later discovered that a bidet is a legal requirement in a Portuguese bathroom.) It has a kitchen, with sink and taps, Two more water taps and another toilet with sink and washing machine connection in a newer extension to the kitchen,

There used to be a bottled gas water heater, but the heater has gone. The pipes and vent are in place, although the "chimney” just passes through the kitchen ceiling and vents into the kitchen attic (fortunately separate from the main house attic).

Obviously, water used to come into the house, but perhaps not from the mains.There is a well outside, and a box used to house an electric pump. There is also a header tank on the roof.

The estate agent blurb said mains water - I took that to mean supplying the house. Maybe it meant available at the house, and the house had actually been using well water. The easiest solution seemed to be to connect our mains supply to the feed from the tank, and the easiest way to do that is to pipe our new supply up to the roof. So, off to the DIY shops, and returned with 25m of 25mm coiled plastic pipe, and a bunch of 25mm elbows. Tried to figure out the header tank plumbing, but there was nowhere to get a clear view from the ground.

Discovered an old galvanised pipe protruding vertically from the ground close to the well. it seemed remote from everything wet, so I had assumed it was just a bit of old pipe used as a plant stake, but it could have been an external tap, connected to house water - it was several meters above well water level, so couldn't be connected to that. The threaded end of the pipe was mangled. Whatever had been connect to it had been removed with a big hammer. If it was an external tap. Then connecting our water supply to it could well feed back into the house - worth a shot. Sawed off the mangled pipe end, Duct taped the 25 mm feed to the steel pipe, turned on the water.

Duct tape is not as strong as it seems. it burst in a few seconds, resulting in a wet wife. I did notice some old rusty hooks in the wall where the supply arrived, which indicated that water had once traveled this route, later confirmed by Google.

This 2009 image clearly shows a water pipe running along the wall from the meter.

I "modified" one of my 25 mm plastic elbows to fit the galvanised pipe - somewhat leaky, but it stayed put. Checked in the house. Water - or rather black sludge was coming out of the taps, which slowly cleared to become rusty water, and eventually clear water.

Still not had a date for electric connection so called the company, Finally got through to someone who could speak decent English. "Ah, there is a problem with your contract. you asked for a 5kw supply. the cables to your house can only take 3.4kw. I will email you a new contract to sign." Our electric kettle is 2kw! but, anything is better that nothing - I need to run power tools etc.

Annoyed that they didn't contact me to tell me. I had to put off the phone company, who were coming to install a landline which we don't need, but we do need internet and TV. and it was either this or a 4g dongle and satellite TV. I can't get a decent 4g signal on my phone when at the house, and they won't install internet and TV without a landline.

So Electric day arrived Installation anytime between 10:30, and 13:00. We planned to arrive at the house at 10:30 to be safe. Got a call at 9:55, "I am at the house"! We weren't. Got there at 10:30 - no electric company vehicle. Waited 4 hours, finally sent a text. The guy arrived 5 mins later. Shortly after, we had electricity.

The following day, the phone people arrived. I would not have been surprised if they had been unable to install TV and internet up to 24 Mbs over the existing ancient phone wires, but they strung a new coaxial cable from the pole to the house, so 150 channels and 12 Mbs internet installed. That's what I checked it as. I was impressed, until I got back to to the apartment, and found we have 37 Mbs there. We now have a phone number too, just haven't got a phone to plug in yet ;-)

Anyway, back to the water. The washing machine tap has a conventional threaded end. I needed a hose outside, so screwed a hoselock connection on and the tap broke - inside the tiled wall, Turned off the water - needed to get at the tap, so attacked the tiled wall with a very small hammer and a screw driver (the only tools available), I eventually managed to extract the tap. It was screwed into a brass? elbow, which had been screwed into a galvanised reducer, which was screwed into a galvanised T. The brass thing had just sheared off, Funny thing - all the plumbing is in imperial sizes. The T piece was on top of a vertical galvanised pipe, so I had to smash a lot more tiles and wall to be able to lever the pipe out of the wall to get at the broken bits. Finally got that fixed, though not the wall or tiles yet,

Next problem -water on the floor in the main bathroom. Can't find a leak. Water on the step out of the kitchen. on the other side of the bathroom. The kitchen appears to be a later addition to the house. Seems like we have a leaky pipe embedded in the main house wall. The sensible solution would seem to be to replace all the plumbing. Working on a plan for that. Need a full campaign plan, I need a Gantt chart Can't fix the kitchen until the plumbing is sorted, and probably should combine heating with plumbing.

We are several kms from the nearest gas main, so options are burning wood (or pellets), oil tank in the garden, propane tank in the garden or air source heat pump.

Oil here is the same price as diesel at the pumps, (probably higher with delivery charges) propane is cheaper, but the tank in much more expensive. Heat pump is favourite, but dependent on upgrading the electricity cables, or possible switching to a 3 phase 380v supply. I don't know much about 3 phase,. I thought I could get 3 380 to 220 transformers, use 1 phase for the heat pump the other 2 could supply household appliances, sockets and lights, but further research seems to indicate that this is a bad idea, as it would create an unbalanced load. The answer would seem to be buy a big 3 phase electric motor, and use this to drive a 220v generator.

I need to find out if there is a device that can shift the phase backward and forward by 120 degrees, then I could have single phase 380v, which would be easier to handle.

Another issue with the heat pump, is that the hot water coming out the back is 60 degrees max, much cooler than a conventional boiler, so it needs double sized radiators or underfloor heating to produce the same amount of heat. Can't really go solar, not enough sun in winter when we really need the heat, and the house is in a valley, so not very windy either.

Delayed by the car again, the alternator diodes burned out. Luckily, I made it home, but not enough juice left in the battery to start the car again. Tried and failed to located a used alternator (they seem to sell quickly). Tried and failed to locate a new 8 diode rectifier/regulator assembly (8 diodes confused me for a while), so had to order a new alternator. The brushes and slip rings also seemed badly worn. Tried and failed to locate a supplier in Portugal, so had to get one shipped from the UK.

I will have to measure up for new water pipes and fittings, - see what we need to replace, and try to assess how much house will be destroyed in the fitting.

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