#all the while freefalling off of cliffs as one of the only people who could fly in the group | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whollyhapa · 1 year

Text

Mutant--A Namor Fanfiction Ch. 5

Summary: You test your wings again, and Namor tests you.

Notes: Up on Ao3!! This one is a doozy of dialogue. Please enjoy if you would loveee

You really meant it before—that flying surpassed any drug in existence. No matter how many times you were strapped down, cut open, sewed up, and shipped back out on your next mission, it was something no shitty scientist holding a clipboard and a taser could revoke from you—that exhilarating high that takes hold, cradling your small body like the world’s warmest blanket in a vast expanse of pillowy sky. Each time you slunk back to base post-mission, your dirty work done, armed personnel shoving you back into a cage—each time you curled up in your little cell, eyes glinting at the thought of your next fix of fresh air miles above the heads of the people who could only hurt you on the ground. Flight was everything where you had nothing.

And it’s hard to describe; but when the urge for flight latches on, it becomes a ruthless itch that fills your hollow bones and drags like needles across every square inch of your limbs. Like poison ivy, but seated deep, deep within your musculature, like every cell in your body is screaming that your feet need to be off the ground now.

You feel that same itch start to take hold now, as you rip the nauseating dress off back in your quarters, and you decide to listen to the call. The jewelry and adornments are dumped unceremoniously at your bedside, sandals kicked off and shiny hair back in its topknot home, braids and all. You step back into loose tapered pants from the modest wardrobe Shuri had graciously provided you during your stay, and a thin undershirt follows. Plucking a long red sash from your closet, you wind it tight around your waist, knotting it at your hip. It’s more out of habit than anything else—you have no weapons to conceal beneath it anyway.

You pause when your fingers linger on the latch binding the gleaming braces to your wings. You peer at yourself in the mirror from your peripheral, turning long and slow. They don’t glamorize your forbidden limbs so much as they accentuate them, you think, and if you were promised flight while wearing them…

You shed them anyway, embarrassed at the thought. They’re a crest to which you don’t belong.

Padding through the royal corridors barefoot, practically trembling with excitement, you finally reach your destination: the capital’s vast concrete aircraft landing base. Giant sleek futuristic airships line the stretch of pathway you stand on, which lead a few hundred feet to the edge of a sheer drop of cliff. The air is cool and clear, and the last of the sun is sinking below the horizon, melding orange on one side with a creeping violet on the other.

You don’t think twice. You’re speedwalking toward the brink, then you’re jogging, and then suddenly you find your bare feet are pounding on pavement—legs and arms pumping, heart racing, the itch getting stronger and stronger the longer your body recognizes it’s still on solid ground. Your powerful legs cross the stretch of asphalt in mere seconds, and the drop is getting closer and closer, and suddenly you’re looking down and the plunge is right below you, and you jump.

You freefall for a moment, tasting the air screaming past you, then twist in midair and unfurl your wings. Twelve feet of white wingspan catch the air instantly and you grunt at the yank upwards. You push down, hard, feeling your shoulder muscles flex with the movement. Then back up, then back down, and before you know it you’re in flight again, surging upward, higher and higher. Cool gusts race over your arms, igniting goosebumps, and the wind sings a holy psalm in your ears. The rush is so intense you can’t help but whoop into the wind as you soar toward the disintegrating sun, the cityscape shrinking rapidly below you.

If you ever had a place to call home, this. This would be the closest thing.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------

One hour and approximately one hundred fifty clicks later, you’ve nestled yourself in the branches of a tree lodged in the side of a rocky precipice overlooking a large lake. Birin Zana and its stunning skyline are out of sight and out of mind, along with its endless noise and political folly—if you zone out hard enough, it almost feels like you dreamed the previous week of new bearings.

It’s night by now, though the hour felt like nothing; You could nearly cross the Atlantic in your sleep with your engineered stamina. But your week’s rest and recovery had left your wings stiff, and after the hour’s warm up your wings are still singing with renewed fervor and you’re still relishing the adrenaline coursing through your body.

It’s just you, in a tree, fifty feet up, swinging your bare feet while your wings dangle behind you. It always turns out to be a tree, you think absently, gripping onto the branch on either side of your legs. Must be the bird in you—that two percent avian DNA definitely had an impact. You close your eyes and feel like a youngling again while you savor the quiet, and you ride the lasting high of your short flight, eyes closed in tranquil comfort.

Something stops you from anticipating the peace to last very long, though. Before yet another awkward departure, Namor had told you he’d hoped to find you in the skies tonight; his eyes had told you he would regardless.

You won’t get rid of me so swiftly.

At this point, you didn’t doubt his resolve—by now you could tell he was a little like you: a bit too, well, relentless, when a stark fixation took hold. Something a bit below sanity, something bordering on ruthless. Locked, like a bloodhound on a scent. The similarity you identify makes you frown as you lean against the column of tree trunk you’re situated against. You think?---You’ve flown far enough away to avoid him? God knows. He did tell you he felt a pull to find you the first time, and you don’t even want to begin to consider that notion. You stare down at your hands, sending a prayer to a deity you can’t name that you’re out of reach.

The devil, apparently, answers, of course, because suddenly every muscle in your body tenses and you receive the all-too-familiar sensation of being watched—like plasma bolting through your blood. Sure enough, something catches your peripheral and you whip your head up to stare out at the middle of the still black lake. If you weren’t so busy cursing yourself for settling near yet another body of water, you’d acknowledge the fluttering deja vu in your chest.

There. A silhouette. It’s rising, up, out of the water, and small. But getting bigger, fast. A second later and you make out a body—bronze torso, wet hair, glinting gems, hurtling straight at you—

You lean back in your tree-branch seat, your sagged shoulders going rigid again.Prayed to the wrong god.

At a hundred feet of distance Namor kicks out his legs, counterbalancing to stop the swift advancement, then leans forward again, floating over to you at a moderate pace. You can see him clearly now, in all his saturated glory, ankled wings moving so fast they’re a humming blur to support his mass. He kicks out again and stops just five feet from your perch, head level at your sitting height, eyes yet again settled, unmoving, on yours.

You will your shoulders and wings to untense—whether to actually relax or to seem more relaxed to the king, you’re not exactly sure. Letting your legs swing again to distract from the way your clutch is knuckle-white on your roost, you tilt your head to the side and decide to come in swinging. He is interrupting and-slowly-killing your private flight-induced high, in any case. Your tone is dry when you speak.

“Should’ve guessed you’d fly like a hummingbird. How dainty.”

Namor’s lips twitch, and he’s quick with a low response as he flutters in midair. “Precise, I would call it.”

“Yeah, well.” You lean forward, realizing the last of the fading intemperance is making your tongue loose. “You look like a bumblebee. Poor things look like they’re in overdrive.”

He raises a knee, wings still a-flutter, and tilts his head down, controlled and level with you. “Like I said—strong. Help to balance. Quicker.”

“Doubt it.” The words slur together and slip from your lips before you can rescind the previously-closed invitation.

Namor’s quirks a strong brow, looking like he’s finally gotten you right where he wants. “So you can prov—”

“I fly alone,” you interrupt the king flatly.

He looks slightly miffed at the surly interruption, but seems to shake it off, his voice light. “Strong words coming from a girl who crash-landed in the water. Seems you still need some assistance in the air.”

He hits home instantly, and you bristle, saying nothing. You keep your legs swinging as you let the silence sit heavy, a warning that he isn’t improving the night’s company.

Some part of Namor decides to relent, because then he’s rising and his wings whir to your side as he settles on your same perch some three feet away from you. The hum of his wings dies, and the branch groans with his massive weight; if you weren’t so tense all over again you’d snicker at the creaking wood and consider the awkwardness of his colossal body dangling in a literal tree. He was much more graceful in the water.

“How did you fall?” His voice holds more caution now as he shifts his burly thighs on the bough, forcing your distance from three feet to two and still proceeding to agitate you to no end.

Once again, you deliver more honesty than you’d like—if not to appease him, then to regale the sub-par night yourself. You look down at your lap and stare at the knot in your sash, feeling his gaze burning a small hole in your temple. “Dunno. Head started hurting and I blacked out. Never happened before.” You cock your head at him. “Won’t happen again.”

Namor hmms. Sure, kid, sure.

Another episode of silence ensues, and you can tell he’s trying to choose his next words carefully. His accent is thick when he speaks again.

“The queen…did not give me much insight into your past.”

You’re sharp with the tone in your counter. “Doesn’t have anything to do with you violating treaties left and right, does it?”

The king discounts your fighting words readily. “Tell me how you ended up over Wakanda’s lands.” It’s cool, collected—but a demand nonetheless.

“Why.”

Namor shrugs. “You are like me. I would like to know about you.”

You glare out at the spot in the lake where Namor had emerged to bother you, pushing down the growing longing to give him what he wants—if only so he’d stop asking questions that make your bones itch. “You’re not like me. And my story’s not worth retelling.”

“I doubt that, in alada.”

He’s goading you now. Bloodhound on a scent. Waiting for your response, sniffing out a viable in.

This could go on forever. Expectant silence as an interrogation tactic is new to you and you’re not liking it. You could be an asshole, could leap off the branch and soar off, but who’s to say he doesn’t up and follow you, and then where’d you be? Certainly not flying alone.

Parts of you had begun to cherish living as a mysterious nobody, stealing solace in a tiny country swathed in mystery, for however long it’d have lasted. But a beast of a king sits before you, boxing you in—willing you to come to terms with him, and with yourself, and where the week has landed you. The truth sits heavy on your tongue, and you swirl it around your gums before you confront it.

“It was…an assignment in Somalia. They’d sent me flying south. Eliminate a couple senators in parliament, set up a banner, pin it on a revolutionary group, start the uproot—the works. Get in, get out.”

“The people that held you?” Namor’s voice is gentle now, deep and serious and immersed in the words slowly peeling off of you.

“Same ones that made me, yeah. In the early sixties.” You try to be casual about it, like you’re not just explaining your whole life’s origin away to a pointed-eared man prodding you to open up. “Couple of shitbags with bloodmoney developed an obsession for gene editing and human experimentation, and I was the outcome. Most other experiments failed---lived short, painful lives. I was their crown jewel.” Turning to the king, you peer up at him through your lashes. “You don’t look like the man-made type of freak, though. You eat a weird fruit or something?”

Namor waves the comment off, unfazed. “Another time. We are talking about you.”

Veering away was worth a shot. You sigh, turning to stare back out at the lake. “Well, leading up to the mission—I noticed safety measures were getting sloppy. They were getting too comfortable with me. Forgot to lock shit, left open documents they shouldn’t’. I never knew how they were tracking me every mission until I caught this glimpse of an MRI scan they’d done, and it was here,” you bring your hand up and run a finger behind your right ear, just beneath the hollow of your skull. Namor’s eyes follow your movements. “The chip was here, the entire time. Feeding them vitals, location, everything.” You bring your hand back down, and the rest of the words surge out with a harsh exhale. “So I flew down to Mogadishu, did the job to buy some time, carved it out of my head right after. Then tried fleeing northwest, toward the Congolian forest—to lay low for a while. Clearly I didn’t get that far.”

You know you’re regaling things you’ve already told Shuri, albeit in less detail; but for some reason, the thoroughness with which the king has to wrestle the information from you leaves your voice cracking by the end of the sentence. You weren’t telling him all this to diffuse a bomb strapped to your chest anymore—you were telling him simply because he was interested in knowing. Interested in you.

When you turn to look back at him, legs no longer swinging, Namor has finally torn his gaze from you to settle somewhere on the black earth below you both. His side profile is strong and begrudgingly handsome in the blooming moonlight, jewelry on every part of him reflecting celestial bodies in the relative dark. He keeps his face stoic, but you don’t miss the way his jaw twitches, like he’s clamping down on something scathing.

“And what of your head?” he asks, steadfast as he continues to press you.

You yield to his nudges again, like he’d poured a truth serum down your throat before inviting himself next to you. “Haven’t felt any different since my fall,” you return slowly. “Guessing I pushed myself to fly west too early, after my little—uh. Removal procedure.” You stop yourself before you voice your heaviest premonition, not wanting to draw a comprehensive line between the chip absent in your mastoid and the brief, harrowing pain you’d endured in the sky over a week ago. You absentmindedly brush the skin behind your ear again anyway.

“And your safety?”

At that, you shrug. Weird thing to ask. “I’m in the world’s most impenetrable nation. Second maybe to yours. I mean, my makers, the organization—they have good money and technology, but they’re not sitting on a mountain’s worth of vibranium. Just hoping they only stuck one tracker in me.” Turning again to offer Namor a humorless smile, you find his gaze now down and to the side, on your hand gripped tight to the branch below. His expression is more taut now, low-lidded, bordering on placid disgust at your situation. In the brink of your vision you catch his muscles tense and untense.

“The surface world’s evil is never lost on me.” His voice drops a register, low and lulling and careful as he continues speaking. “Savages. Creating miracles to enslave them, invading and demolishing everything in sight.” You watch Namor warily as his dark eyes start raking up your arm, up over your bare shoulder, until they meet yours—and you recognize, you know the broiling hatred and damage in them. They’ve been simmering in it longer, way longer, give or take four hundred years. Your demons were different, but your transgressors were one and the same. You could at least concede to that.

“I am deeply familiar with the treatment of our kind, alada.” Namor continues bitterly. “Those made out to be…different. It does not bode well—to be born extraordinary amongst the despicable.” He leans forward, the fire in his eyes dimming as he searches your face for the absorption of the words he’s giving you. “It is our gift and our curse.”

You scoff and avert his gaze—more so to extinguish the heat creeping up your neck than to actually disagree with what he’s saying. He’s right, more right than you’d let on. People were fucked up; it seemed only natural to expect abuse at the hands of those who knew you were different. The wings behind you shudder involuntarily, so aggressively you know Namor sees.

Extraordinary.

Instead of offering another talking point about detesting humankind, you look down to pick at the seam along your pants. “Pretty sure I’m just a bird-girl with a vendetta and a twinge of Stockholm syndrome.”

Namor shakes his head, insistent. “You endured. Survived, and triumphed. You were stronger, and smarter.”

“I know.” You let the following silence linger. You’re as accustomed to sickly praise as you are to the abuse—but the way the heat creeps over the column of your neck and rushes to your cheeks informs you that the praise feels different this time. There were worse sensations to behold.

After another beat of quiet, Namor opens his mouth again, and you find yourself bracing less for the discomfort of his comments than before. One might even call it ease, in the king’s company. You still preferred to call it defeat.

“I appreciate that you shared what you were willing, alada,” Namor tells you gently. “I understand now why you hate the word. I think you are conflicted—about who and what you know yourself to be.”

And there it is. The comfort, the ease, the relaxation, all waltzing out the fucking door. Suddenly you’re beyond irked again, and you kick yourself for…you don’t even know what for. This guy thinks he fucking knows you. It wasn’t the same as finding similarities.

A combination of indignance and searing vulnerability lick white-hot up your spine. Instantly you hoist yourself to your feet, balancing on the bough holding both your weights. “This conversation is over.” You mean to sound cold and detached, but the sentence comes out more like a snarl.

Namor’s still staring up at you, eyes carrying a vague mischief of all things now. He’s not fazed, and it makes you even angrier. You don’t give him the chance to open his stupid mouth again—you step a foot out and let yourself drop from your perch, plunging thirty feet before snapping your wings out hard and letting the night’s currents coast you out toward the lake. Once you’re out of the foliage, you beat your wings even harder, and in a few seconds you’re zipping away from yet another mess of a conversation with a man, a king—a fellow freak---that turns your stomach and leaves your brain in absolute and utter disarray.

Even with the wind yelling in your ears, your sensitive ears pick up a distant fluttering hum.

You know he’s already following after you. You don’t have to look back to check.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Ppl asking to be tagged <3 Thank you so so much for reading the words coming out of my brain.

@gamorxa @gardenof-venus @helloabominacion @violet-19999 @ethereal-athalia @hell-is-mine098 @omgsuperstarg @helios-dios-del-sol

#Namor x reader #namor x you #namor fanfiction #black panther 2 #black panther wakanda forever #eventual smut #wakanda forever spoilers #namor x ofc #Namor #namor of talokan #smut #namor and reader are two sides of the same idiotic sun

62 notes · View notes

epiphany-of-a-madwoman · 2 years

Text

It's Golden Like Daylight | James Potter

Part 1 | Part 2

▹ Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Black!Reader

▹ Genre: Angst and Fluff

▹ Words: ~5k

▹ Summary: It was unexpected, but not at all unwelcomed the way James Potter left you wonderstruck.

▹ Notes: So this started as a small drabble, but now here were are. Sooo enjoy! Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in P.2

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The expectations placed upon you were stifling.

They wrapped their clawed fingers around your neck, squeezing tighter and tighter. It’s grip on you was iron, not wavering in the slightest. Yet you were powerless against it. Struggling only made it tighten, your gold cage getting smaller and smaller each day. It was fight or flight. Kill or be killed. Your world was cruel and treacherous to those not built for the pressure. But you thought yourself made of steel. It turned out, you were only glass, millions of spider web cracks that threatened to shatter you.

You weren’t sure when it had happened, when you had fallen so far from who you used to be. It was like walking down a hill that became steeper and steeper. But it wasn’t until you were falling off the cliff that you noticed anything amiss. And by then it was too late to do anything other than freefall.

You stared at your reflection, but you didn’t see yourself. It was similar, but just different enough to be unnerving. The same wild black hair, stormy gray eyes, and pale skin. But their features were much more masculine; nose stronger and jaw sharper. Your face was much softer; gentle like a woman should be. And while his eyes glistened with mischief, yours glimmered with unshed tears. Years of silent screams that were building under the surface, waiting to escape.

In the mirror, seeing Sirius reflected back at you, you saw yourself and everything you could’ve been.

He flourished, turning into a diamond under the pressure. He set himself free and started a new life.

You crumbled under the weight, molding yourself into whatever was wanted of you. All you craved was survival, but on most days even that seemed daunting. And you found yourself questioning if it was even worth it. Because was life really worth living if you couldn’t find a shred of light in the desolate darkness?

Two sides of the same coin. But he had courage while you were a coward. He was everything you’d hoped to be. But everything your mother loathed.

Stray tears fell from your eyes, carving a line in your face. It splattered on the vanity you were standing in front of, creating water marks on the wood. You reached a shaky hand up, wiping them away as they fell. You sniffled and cleared your throat.

‘Pull yourself together. You’re a member of the most ancient and noble House Black.’ You could hear your mother’s banshee voice in your head.

In your hand, you grasped a bottle of concealer so tight you would have broken the bottle. Unscrewing the top, you brought the applicator to your face and dotted it all over. With bare hands, you began to blend it out, using layers of makeup to cover the red blotches and bloodshot eyes. You smiled, making sure the facade was impenetrable. But the expression was weak, eyes not at all lit up like they should be. They were as dull and tired as you felt. But you kept trying, unwilling to let people see just how far you’d fallen.

A burning sensation flared to life on your left forearm. A hallucination of your fears manifesting. You wanted to scratch and itch until the skin ripped off. The phantom of the Dark Mark that was waiting for you at the end of the school year taunting you. It was only a matter of time before the nails hammered into your coffin. Then you’d be stuck forever, with no way out. Because who could care for the emotional turmoil of a Death Eater?

In a trance, you left your room to go to class. The first one of the day was Potions, the class you shared with Gryffindor. As usual, you were one of the first people in the class. You took a seat in your normal spot, opening a notebook as you got lost in your thoughts. A few minutes later, people began to filter into the room, until the room was full.

The students around you chattered loudly with one another. But you were silent, intent to focus on your notebook. You weren’t there, not even on the same planet as everyone around you. As always your mind was elsewhere, detached from your body. Nothing was real and everything lacked meaning. It was the only way to survive.

Sirius was sitting on the other side of the room with his friends, boisterous as ever. In an exaggerated manner he waved his hands, shouting at his friends with a mischievous grin on his face. James Potter sat beside him, matching his energy perfectly. They were like two peas in a pod. And you couldn’t help but reminisce when that had been your spot. Before you went to Hogwarts and everything went to Hell.

Green and red created a sea that separated the two of you. And you couldn’t figure out how to cross it. But you wanted to, desperate to rekindle the tight bond you’d had at the tiny age of ten. But your pride held you in place, wrongful blame placed on him for leaving you all alone in that large house. He ran and never looked back, no hesitation. He left you to pick up the pieces, left you and Regulus both.

If you were thinking clearly you'd be understanding. If you didn't let irrational emotions control you, at least. But you hadn’t had a grasp on your sanity since you fell down this pit.

Sirius glanced in your direction, eyes meeting for a brief second. His eyes flashed with what almost looked like regret. But as soon as it was there, it was gone, replaced with cold indifference. In his mind you were the exact same as your mother. A lost cause he shouldn’t waste his time on. And even after all this time it still stung as if it were the first time.

He looked away, muttering something to his friends. James Potter leaned back, eyes locking with yours. His gaze was much the same as Sirius’ had been before he locked it away with a mask of indifference. It made your pride wilt, the pity in his eyes. It made you feel indignant. You didn’t need his pity, you didn’t need anyone.

A perfectly practiced scowl appeared on your lips, and you looked away. You slipped into the role of the blood purist Slytherin. You should’ve won an award for your acting abilities for how good you've gotten at this act. Shortly after Slughorn came waltzing in, beginning class in an instant.

The rest of the hour was a blur, and before you knew it, everyone around you was packing up their things to leave. You did the same, starting to stand from your desk. In a flurry of movements and loud chatting, your brother and his friends passed by your desk.

And when they were gone, a small note sat untouched on your desk. Crumpled after being held in a closed fist, the scribbling was undeniably James Potter’s. You glanced over the note over and over again until the words sunk in.

My home is always open if you need a way out.

- James Potter

OoO

It was long past curfew. You should’ve been in bed, sound asleep, but instead you were wandering the halls. It wasn’t without purpose however, as you intended to find James Potter. As per his Head Boy duties, he should be patrolling the halls for any rulebreakers. But the halls were quiet, in a way that left you unsettled. You were on edge, watching every shadow with paranoia twinkling in your eyes. The only sound was the echoing of your footsteps. It ricocheted off the walls and followed your every move, making it feel like the walls were closing in on you.

It was 11:56 PM, and you swore you wouldn't stay out past midnight. But you found yourself going back on your own promise. You needed Potter to answer the question that wouldn't leave your mind since Potions class. Since you read that note he left for you.

'Why?'

And it seemed your hopes came to fruition as you turned into a seemingly empty hall.

“Black. It’s past curfew.”

Speak of the devil.

You turned with a flourish, the secure bun your hair was in keeping it from flowing behind you. Subconsciously, you reached for your wand, yet you relaxed when you realized it was James. If he wanted to hurt you, he would’ve already.

While the two of you had a tendency to exchange venomous insults at all hours, it never went physical. It seemed the disdain was one sided, with you being the viscous one. If anything James seemed entertained by your daily interactions.

He was standing at the end of the hall, so far you couldn’t see his face. But you knew it was him, his voice was too indistinguishable. The way he said everything with confidence and ease, as if he hadn’t had a care in the world. His hair was messy, but that was nothing new.

“I know. I was looking for you.” You made no move to step closer to him, but neither did he. The two of you were in a standstill, waiting for the other to react.

“Staying out past curfew for me? You shouldn’t have.” His shoes clicked against the marble floor as he walked towards you. His long legs closed the distance between you far quicker than expected. His gait was more like a strut, arms lazily hanging in his pockets with an easy smirk on his lips.

“And now I wished I hadn’t.” There was no venom in your voice, you didn’t have any willpower to put on a show. You bit the inside of your cheeks, tapping your toes against the floor.

“Oh, you’re wounding me here, love.” He stopped, only a few feet separating them. “Now what was it you wanted to say?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, reminding yourself why you were even there. All the hours you spent trying to decipher what the angle could be. Was it a sick joke, an elaborate prank they were planning? That if you took the bait they’d pull the rug out from under you, laughing at your foolish nativity.

“Why?” It was a whisper, but it was thundering in the quiet hall.

James’ brows furrowed and his lips pursed into the smallest pout. Small creases formed on his forehead as he squinted his eyes in concentration. Like it would make everything make sense.

“Why what?”

You took a deep breath, an attempt to soothe your nerves.

“You offered for me to stay with you. Why?”

The lines on his forehead got deeper, and he shuffled his feet causing his body to sway. His tongue darted out, wetting his lips as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Why wouldn’t I? You're my best mate’s sister,” he said.

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. Because in all the years you’d know James Potter, you were nothing but callous and cruel. Snide remarks and snarky insults were all you ever gave to him. You’d insulted him, his family, his friends, anything you could.

Because when your relationship with Sirius went sour, you took it out on him. He was an easy target to blame. It was easier to accept that he had turned Sirius against you. Because the alternative was that Sirius’ disdain was from no outside influence. And that realization stung like lemon and salt on a wound. So you blamed it on James, as unreasonable as it was.

That inner turmoil then led to you being viscous in hopes it could cover the pain. Using fury to hide tear stains on your cheeks from the night before. And you thought you’d done a fairly good job.

"I've been nothing but horrible to you," you said with more force behind your words.

"Not anything I can't handle. Plus I've come to enjoy our little daily squabbles," James said. “It’s like a caffeine boost for me, just without the bitterness.”

"That doesn't explain why" You continued to argue, but knew you were grasping at straws. "And don't you dare say it's because I'm Sirius' sister. He could care less about me."

James watched you for a moment, an expectant stare in his eyes. He could see the doubt and confusion in your eyes. The apprehension to accept that his offer was anything other than a genuine attempt to help.

“That's not true. Sirius cares," he said, running his hand through his hair again. "Which means I care by association.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes.

"He doesn't act like it."

“Same could be said to you.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, refusing to accept his answer. He was right of course, but pride was a nasty thing. You’d cut off your nose to spite yourself if given the chance.

James shrugged his shoulders with an air of nonchalance. The teasing grin on his face returned with a vengeance. And you wanted to be infuriated that he seemed so amused by your frustration.

“Plus, it's not like you’ve made that easy.”

Your lips downturned into a scowl as you leveled a glare that could burn ice. James held his hands up in surrender, his airy chuckled echoing in the hall.

“Don’t shoot the messenger. It’s not his fault you’ve played the part of Slytherin Blood Purist to a T,” he said. He flippantly waved his hands in your direction as to further emphasize his words.

Your scowl deepened, yet the nerves in you got worse. If he could see cracking under pressure, did that mean everyone else did?

“And how do you know it’s an act?” Your narrowed eyes were trained on him, impatiently waiting for the next words he’d say. James shrugged his shoulders again. A sliver of silver light from the moon filtered in through the window, illuminating his eyes.

“You're here talking to me, aren’t you?”

His words gave you pause, silencing whatever expertly crafted lie you prepared. And for once, you found yourself silenced. But it didn't last for long.

"I don't want your pity," you said, spitting out the words.

"Not pity, just a helping hand."

His cool composure only further infuriated you. You wanted a fight, for him to fight back, not just disarm every barb you tossed at him.

"Maybe I don't want or need your hand," you said, not stopping to determine if your response made sense.

"Then don't take it. Just know it's there." He paused, carefully considering his next words. "I just...I know how bad it was for Sirius and I want you to know you don't have to stay there. You have an option."

The lines on your forehead got deeper as you contemplated his words. Your mother had always been harsh, only getting worse when Sirius ran away. Yet she never showed you the disdain she had for him. But you also knew it wasn't impossible for that to change. One slip up, that was all it'd take, and you'd be nothing but a stain to the family name. It was something you always knew. Yet having it forced to the forefront of your mind, it left you dumbstruck.

When it became clear you wouldn’t say anything else, James let out an exaggerated sigh.

“Now off to bed, it’s past curfew and I don’t want to have to dock points from Slytherin.”

Then he was gone, shoes clicking on the ground, the sound growing quieter the further he walked. At some point he began to whistle as he strutted down the hall, a satisfied grin on his face. James Potter was seemingly satisfied that he left you stunned. After six long years of constant arguments, he finally got the last word.

Eventually you turned and made your way back to the Slytherin common room. You got into bed, staring at the ceiling as you went over your conversation with James. Technically, you succeeded in your goal for the night. You just didn’t anticipate his answer would leave you with more questions. And those questions made your head hurt.

OoO

It had been a week since your last encounter with James. Outwardly, you acted as if nothing had changed, and so did he. Though your barbed comments weren’t as sharp and the scowl on your face seemed less icy. He'd been kind to you, unexpectedly so. He offered you a place to run to, if things ever got out of control. It was genuine and honest, no hidden catch or trick. Something you weren't entirely sure you'd reciprocate if the roles were reversed.

Everything in your brain was muddled and confused. Leading to you sitting in the Astronomy Tower staring at the night sky.

The wind was bitter as it gently blew past your skin. It sent shivers through your whole body. The cold caused you to pull your jacket a little bit closer in hopes of keeping warm. Your hair was loose, getting picked up and blown about by the wind. Yet you didn’t mind it, it made you feel free. Something about the cold air against your rosy cheeks making you feel invincible.

Heavy footsteps approached your still form. You turned, expecting a teacher or prefect to come up the stairs, a punishment on the tips of their lips. Yet you were surprised to see James Potter walk up the last step. He wore the same grin and cool confidence he always had. His hair was messier than ever, his Gryffindor tie loosened and uniform disheveled.

“Fancy running into you here Black,” James said. He crossed to the other side of the platform, taking a seat directly by you.

“Following me, now are you Potter,” you said, a slight scowl on your lips.

“As I remember, you were looking for me last night,” James said.

“And now you came looking for me.”

You turned to meet his gaze, a neutral expression resting on your face. He wiggled around for a moment, trying to get into a comfortable position, growing still once he did. A particularly strong gust of wind blew over the two of you. A You shivered, curling deeper into your jacket. James - who had no jacket, only his uniform robes - his teeth chattering as he wrapped his arms around his body.

“You’re not wearing a jacket,” you said in a monotone voice.

He chuckled, shaking his head and curling closer into himself.

“Didn’t think this out too well, did I?” he said, a sardonic grin on his face. His cheeks and nose were bright red from the cold, making him almost appear childlike. The similarities were only further confirmed by the glimmer in his eyes that rivaled the stars in the sky.

Your heartbeat sped up ever so slightly, yet you rolled your eyes, feigning annoyance. You lifted up your wand, muttering a quiet incantation.

“What are you--” James began to say, but cut himself off as warmth flooded his veins. It felt like he’d been wrapped up in the thickest blanket, keeping him fuzzy and warm. “Thanks.”

“Can’t have you turning into an icicle. I’ll get detention,” you said with a slight eye roll. James could see the upward curl of your lips, betraying the mirth behind your stony glares.

“Oh admit it Black, you’d miss me if I was gone.”

Despite yourself, a chuckle left your mouth, eyes returning to the night sky.

“Oh of course, Potter. Who else would I relentlessly bully if you were gone?” The question was rhetorical, but it didn’t stop James from answering as if it weren’t.

“Snivellus?” he said, brows raised with a mirthful grin on his face.

You scoffed, shaking your head.

“Sorry Potter, don’t think it would be the same.”

James shrugged, nudging you with his shoulder.

“Good, let’s keep it that way. It guarantees my safety,” James said.

Another soft laugh left your mouth, eyes tracing the constellations in the sky.

“So why haven’t you casted your body heating charm on yourself?” James asked, watching you bundle closer into your jacket. You shrugged, contemplating his question in your mind.

“I like the feeling of the cold air. It’s refreshing.” You inhaled deeply, shutting your eyes for a brief moment. This was the only place you’d felt completely relaxed. All your woes and anxieties melted away as you counted and recounted every star in the sky. It reminded you of the nights you and Sirius stayed up, pointing out the constellations you remembered.

Sitting on the Astronomy Tower late at night reminded you of simpler times. You were painted light blue with melancholy, shining under the silver light.

James snorted, running his hand through his hair and shaking it.

“I’m sure it is, especially after being in the dungeons for so long.”

You wanted to disagree with him, if for no reason other than to disagree. But he was right. Being in the dungeons was suffocating. But the Slytherin common rooms weren't much better. Constantly surrounded by families like yours. The knowledge that each move you made was watched. It was a snake pit and people were always looking for a leg up, no matter the damage it caused.

You didn’t respond, just simply nodding your head.

James turned his attention to the night sky, attempting to recall all the constellations. But their names and locations eluded him. He didn’t come from your family, where Astronomy was beaten into your head from an early age. Plus he never cared too much to memorize it all. But as he glanced at you from the corner of his eye, watching the awe and serenity on your face, he wanted to know every little detail there was.

If only to have a reason to continue talking to you. And perhaps have the opportunity to impress you. He just wasn’t sure why he wanted to do that.

He pointed a finger at the brightest star in the sky.

“That one’s Sirius,” he said, a proud grin on his face for remembering. You turned your head and he did as well, your eyes meeting. The blank mask you always wore had all but fallen off, allowing bright eyes and a soft smile to shine through.

And he was taken aback for a moment as he stared at your face. Because were you always this beautiful. Sure, undeniably you were attractive, one of the few good traits you’d inherited from your family. But, it had always been cold and distant; a daydream that you’d never have. And now, you looked sweet and soft, like a gentle breeze in the middle of summer.

And he had to smother the urge to run his finger through your hair.

You hand wrapped around his arm, gently moving it until his finger pointed slightly to the left. But you kept your hand on his, enjoying the warmth he radiated.

“That was just a random star. That one is Sirius,” you said, a twinkle of mischief in your eyes. It was nearly identical to how Sirius’ looked at all times, aggressively reminding James you two were twins.

“Yeah I knew that, I was just testing you.” His words were slightly stuttered, mouth growing dry the moment you touched his hand.

You both knew he was lying, the faint flush on his face exposing that, but you didn’t argue with him. It would be harmless to let him have this small victory.

“Do you know where Andromeda is?” you asked. James silently shook his head, eyes locked on yours. You guided his hand to the right, stopping a few moments later. “It’s right there. See it?”

James looked away from your eyes, focusing on where his finger was pointed. He could see anything but vague star shapes, but he wouldn’t say that. He didn’t want to ruin whatever was happening. He was enjoying your company far too much for that.

“Yeah, I think,” he said. He felt your grip loosen, but he didn’t want that. He wanted to keep holding your hand as long as possible. “Wh-what about Aries? That’s my birth sign, according to Peter at least.” His words were frantic and rushed, and he hoped you didn’t notice his desperation in his voice.

But you seem unphased, simply looking around the sky for a few seconds. Then, just as before, you began guiding his hand to where the constellation was.

“Right--” you began to say. “--there.”

He nodded his head, the flush on his face getting deeper the longer you held his hand. But he rather enjoyed the way his heart sped up.

“What about Scorpius? That’s your sign, right?” James asked. You nodded, pointing his finger to the right cluster of stars.

“What’s the sudden interest in Astronomy, Potter?” you asked in a gentle voice.

“I guess I just realized how beautiful the stars are,” he muttered.

He turned to look at your face, your eyes already on his face.

“They are nice to look at,” you said, realizing his chocolate brown eyes had flecks of gold hidden in them. They glistened under the silvery light, almost ethereal in appearance. As James had a similar realization a few minutes prior, it occurred to you just how attractive he was.

The way his messy brown hair fell in haphazard curls. The mirthful smirk that was ever-present on his full pink lips. He was tall and well built from years of playing Quidditch, he wasn’t too bulky nor too lanky. He smelled intoxicating too: like broom wax, bergamot, and the musk from his cologne.

“I’ve seen nicer.” His grin was lopsided and wide, his eyes turning into small crescent moons. "You for example are nice to look at."

‘Is he…flirting?’

You cocked your head to the left slightly, brows furrowed. Your face heated up, burning despite the cold air. Something about the way he was looking at you and the grin on his face made you think he was talking about you. And despite how cheesy the line was it made you giddy. If it had been anyone else, you would’ve hexed them to oblivion, yet James made it seem sweet. And you didn’t fully understand why.

This was James Potter after all, you’d never once even considered him as anything other than a nuisance.

And yet…

Before they could fully form, you banished the notion of feeling anything other than contempt for him. James Potter had made it abundantly clear since first year, the girl of his dreams was Lily Evans. He was relentless, never stumbling no matter how many times she rejected him. And you wouldn't put yourself in a precarious situation. Where you're pining after a man who never saw you as anything more than a snake.

“That was cheesy, even for you, Potter.”

He lowered his left eyes into a wink, grin turning cheeky.

“Is it if it’s the truth?” he asked.

“Yes.” Your tone was deadpan, lips in a thin line, but he could see how your eyes shone with giddiness. You felt like a little girl with her first crush. Your stomach nervously fluttered, heartbeat speeding up. You simultaneously hated and loved the sensation.

He let out a sigh of feigned disappointment, mock offense appearing on his face.

“You wound me so, my lady.”

“I can do more than wound you, Potter.” While the words should’ve been harsh, they lacked any venom. Your voice was quiet and soft as the mile high walls encasing you slowly crumbled.

“I’d be flattered to be the subject of such activities,” James said.

You laughed, this one louder than James had ever heard from you. And you couldn’t remember the last time you had laughed like this. So genuine and bright and sweet. Like the finest symphony. And you never thought James Potter would be the one to elicit such a response from you.

Playfully you slapped his chest, finally letting go of his hand. You stood from your spot, offering a hand to help James up as well.

"I don't think that's normal," you said.

"Normal is boring," was his only response.

“Well, while you contemplate all the things that are wrong with you Potter, I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”

James took your outstretched hand, yet he continued to hold it even after standing.

“Goodnight, Sunshine,” he said.

You raised a single brow at him, perturbed by the nickname.

“Sunshine?”

“Because of your sunny disposition,” he said with a nonchalant shrug.

“I--"

“And don't try to fight it. I've already decided on it,” he said in a teasing tone. You chuckled, silencing the noise behind a closed mouth grin.

“Goodnight Potter,”

“Goodnight.”

“You already said that,” you said.

“As did you.”

“Then I guess we’re even,” you said, slowly unraveling your hand from his. Slowly, you walked towards the stairs. And as you made your way through the castle, slipping into your common room, your cheeks burned. There was a fluttering sensation in your chest you weren’t used to. A slight bounce present in every step you took as you basically danced through your room.

And as much as you wished it weren’t true, you couldn’t deny it.

James Potter left you enchanted.

You just hoped he wasn’t still in love with someone else.

202 notes · View notes

fayeimara · 3 years

Text

Kuroo Tetsuro || Freefall

*Song Scenario | Inspired by Devil Eyes by Hippie Sabotage*

PAIRING. Kuroo Tetsuro x you

GENRE. Fluff

WARNINGS. Suggestive content

The breeze shifts through and lifts your hair, cooling the surface of your body from the midsummer heat, as you stand at the peak of the bluffs and stare down into the dark, seemingly eerie depths of the bay. Joyful squeals and deep hollers echo around you, an erratic staccato from both your group and another, at times torn away with the wind.

"Scared?" The amused mono-syllabic question tears you away from your contemplation and you lock eyes with one of the boys from the other group, his golden gaze searing into yours, somehow more scorching than the sun high in the sky above you.

"Not exactly." You tilt your head back and close your eyes before you answer with what you know he just may never understand, "Just working myself up."

He laughs a little, but it's not mocking.. or confused, it's actually appreciative like he's already caught your vibe, "You're building the apprehension."

Your eyes pop open and slide over to him again in surprise, "Exactly."

"More of an adrenaline rush with the anticipation, the deeper you psyche yourself out."

"Before letting go and freefalling."

"Wow." He definitely sounds appreciative and his unusual gemlike eyes are burning with a curious desire, "Can I join you?"

You finally smile then, just a curl of your lips up, and tilt your head in a silent answer.

The two of you stand at the edge and look over, enjoying the sharp tug of the breeze, even when it threatens to shove you over without your choice in the matter. Studying the churning water below and savouring the sounds of excitement emanating from your friends behind you as people inconsistently dive in. Allowing it all to weave together and spiral into the most natural high.

"Kuroooo!" You're startled as a tan, black and whited haired blur passes just by you, breaking your balance and threatening to drag you over with him.

The guy next to you grabs your elbow to steady you, heat from his hand curling into your skin, as he laughs at his exuberant friend who literally hurls himself off the cliff, jumping incredibly high and reaching a near impossible peak before he begins to drop in.

You can't help but laugh too, because that was just beautiful to see, and then take a deep, smiling breath before looking over to the boy called Kuroo and state, "I'm ready to fall."

His eyes widen at your choice of words but you just smirk and back up for your own approach. Your friends get louder, calling out your name and cheering you on as a wide grin takes over your previous unreadable face.

You take two steps only to find your way blocked by the towering stranger, "You said I could join you."

"Yeah, for the buildup..?" You blink in confusion but he's already prepared with his counter as if he expected your response.

"Will you let me 'fall' with you? Just say jump and I won't even ask how high." He grins unabashedly and you twist your lips to try and hide your answering smile.

"I'm not holding hands with you or anything." You concede with a shrug even as you narrow your eyes on him. But he just laughs before leaning in and trapping you in that mesmerizing gaze again, this time too close to escape with force of will alone.

"Who said I'd hold you while you fell?" His voice is low and teasing.

You roll your eyes and cut back, "Not you, I guess, asking a complete stranger if you can fall with her."

"A completely gorgeous stranger, sure." His sly grin sends another rush of heat through you, as if you weren't close to a heat stroke anyways.

"Right. And I'm still supposed to believe you don't want to hold my hand when we fall, like some cheesy meet-cute."

"Bold of you to call this a meet-cute."

"Isn't it, though?" You raise an eyebrow in challenge, "But what will we tell the kids? Daddy didn't let mommy jump so she pushed him in, I guess."

He does blush then, even while he's laughing in complete awe and amusement at your provocative banter; he's a stunning sight to behold, for sure. Regardless, you smirk in victory as he swallows and runs a hand through his hair, responding, "Sure, let's save that for the next story though. I want be able to tell them we chose to dive right in together first."

"You can tell them that," You shake your head at his flirting and sidestep, starting your run to the edge and calling over your shoulder, "-if you manage to keep up!"

You vault into the open air on your last word, eyes and grin wide as you're momentarily suspended before the breeze turns into a gale force and you're really falling through the space. The water rushes up to you at an unbelievably pace and you slap your hand over the lower half of your face, but just before you close your eyes, you see red shorts and raven-hair drop into the water beside you. And then you're engulfed too, shooting down and opening your eyes to look into the murky nothingness.

Using both your hands to propel yourself up, you finally break through the surface of the water, pushing your hair back and gasping with laughter, and meet eyes with the previously bedheaded boy who's surfaced just in front of you with his hair finally tamed down with the water.

The two of you are so close, you're brushing against each other as you tread but you're both laughing and paying it no mind. No, you're more struck by the way his arm flexes as he moves his hand up to slick his hair back, and the unruly dark strands that escape his attempt and fall back over his right side. Your eyes trace the drops of water as they tip off the ends to grace his cheeks and caress down over his face, neck, and finally chest before rejoining all the other drops that come together and create the bay.

You're so busy observing him, you miss how he watches you in return. He's captivated by the swirling locks of your hair, curling as if they're melting into the ripples of water around you. He can't help but be caught in the curve of your lips as you hold that curious, small smile, the one he saw peek out as he studied you earlier, before making the move to approach the beautiful girl lost in a thrall to the water below her.

He traces his gaze over that smile, wondering how he can continue to entice it forward, along with that beguiling look in your eye, the one that answers the call to adventure with an irresistible sparkle. He's staring directly into your eyes, seemingly lost in his own thoughts, when you finally pull your gaze back to him.

There's a moment of easy silence, spent with mutual, secret smiles and an undeniable connection, before you finally make the move to break away. As you start to swim back towards the sandy shore next to the outcropping of the bluffs, he moves as well, to keep pace next to you, and declares, "Looks like I get to tell the kids how much I liked falling in with you."

You hope you got enough sun on your cheeks today to cover the certain blush at his words. He's definitely a cheeky, persistent one. You don't respond as you reach the shore and he extends a hand out to help you against the current of the waves lapping back and forth from the sand, threatening to drag you with it. You curl your fingers into his with butterflies lifting off somewhere inside as he tugs you forward, but you stumble into him instead, your hand finding his bare chest for balance.

Oh.

Your blush deepens and you can't help but look up in that embarrassing moment to find him looking down at you with a wicked sparkle in those golden eyes and a knowing smirk that remains long after you move your hand and step away, feet sinking into warm grains of sand.

"Well, at this point, I guess we might as well hold hands on the next one." His tone is light and teasing, but still he gives you an out so you look back at him in amusement and he manages a cavalier shrug, trailing behind you as you both head for the path back up to the bluffs, "For the kids, you know."

You decide you've been at a little more of a disadvantage in this game between the two of you and throw back, "But I never promised I'd hold you when you fell?"

"Aw, that's just mean, Kitten. Didn't I just save you from the waves?" His voice is teasing but you refuse to blush at the mention of that too recent intimate moment.

"Says the guy that literally told me the same thing not even ten minutes ago."

You both reach the top before he answers and when he does, it sets off a warmth incomparable to the sun, a warmth you realizing you've been wrapped in and enjoying since his very first word to you.

"I might not always hold you as you fall, you may not even want me to." You feel his warm, callused hand slip into yours as he speaks, moving up beside you again as you both begin to walk back your groups, "But if you let me fall by your side, I swear I'll always be there to catch you."

A/N: I need to figure out how to format these posts :( Anyways, I don't know how I feel about this one either, but I hope you guys enjoy it :) <3

If you liked reading this and decide you want more Kuroo (or Haikyuu boys in general), feel free to check out my Meant To Be SMAU series!

38 notes · View notes

nishaapologist · 3 years

Text

a skyscraper is a bit like a vault, but it goes up instead of down (Fallout 4, Sarah Lyons/NBi!LW, First Sentinel AU)

it's been a while since my last lil fic, but the idea of rookie up a skyscraper jumped into my head and wouldn't leave me alone. whilst i don't think rookie has agoraphobia from their vault years, they definitely think heights are just a little terrifying. what can they say? they're a mole person by nature.

(Sarah's pronouns are she/her, Rookie's pronouns are they/them)

===

Rookie's laughter is infectious, and easily earned, but for the past two hours it's been decidedly nervous in a way that's taken on a broadly hysterical vibe every time they so much as glance outside to see the looming shape of Boston below.

In Sarah's defence, she had warned them that this particular mission had heights involved.

To be perfectly honest, climbing up the precariously decayed skyscrapers that litter downtown isn't exactly her favourite thing to do either, but it's that terrifying dilapidation that means even the most intrepid scavengers haven't dared to ascend the heights themselves, leaving the stuff that's survived within mostly untouched by anything but time for over two-hundred years. The rarities that lie in wait are highly sought after by the right people, some items verging on priceless, and as such are often only just worth the risk inherent to get them back to ground level in the first place. Of course, the downside is that since Sarah's found herself in the thick of the Commonwealth's latest bout of faction drama, she's the one often called upon to find said things in the first place, and she's been running up and down so many sets of stairs that her calves are in better shape than they've ever been.

Rookie had insisted they come with for this particular expedition. Insisted.

"You doing okay back there?" Sarah calls, very pointedly trying not to look down. They'd just opened a door directly into open air - shunted from a relatively intact interior into a room where half of it now lies in the rubble below - giving them a prime view of the Commonwealth alongside a dizzying drop below, and Rookie's laughter had kicked itself up another notch into a tone Sarah would categorise as unstable. "Or do you wanna wait inside?"

"So the floor can give way underneath me?!" Rookie shouts back, entirely too loud even against the whistle of the wind. "No thanks! Just- just lead the way. I'm right behind you."

The stairwell upwards is marked by another closed door, set into the remains of the wall to Sarah's right, but the only real surface Sarah would be hard-pressed to call a floor is clinging to the barest edges of the room, the speckled tiles all slanted downwards and begging to dislodge under her feet. So, Sarah presses herself back, looking around for something to hold onto and finding a dangling cable overhead, slipping free of what could feasibly be described as a ceiling if one had a very generous description of what a ceiling actually constituted. Whatever. She reaches up, gets a good hold on it, and then starts shuffling along, inch by painstaking itch.

"Must be nice, being six-foot-dipshit," Rookie says with a painfully enforced cheer, as their only place to hold onto is Sarah's free hand, gripped painfully tight. It's... not ideal, because if they slip, Sarah stands very little chance of saving both of them from plummeting below if she gets dragged down too. "Jesus, Sarah. This had better be worth it."

Sarah hopes the same. Running around finding tech for the faction that betrayed her, and one that she fully intends to bring to its knees, isn't exactly her idea of a good time, but the Brotherhood are surprisingly lenient about letting some mysterious wastelander with a phobia of showing her face to people run around freely so long as she does as she's told, which Sarah is exploiting mercilessly. She obeys her orders (within reason), she does their stupid busywork (slightly less within reason), and she climbs up buildings that sway in the wind to find some dumb gizmo that's been shoved in a desk since before the bombs dropped (which isn't reasonable at all). At least back in her day it was busywork that came packaged with actual work, like killing super mutants or helping out a settlement against raiders, but no such luck here.

Not that it matters. So long as she hands in tech and find technical documents and clears out ghouls and whatever the shit, they don't care who she is, and that's just perfect.

"C'mon," she murmurs, lost almost entirely to the wind. "You got this."

It feels like it takes hours - the floor creaks and Rookie yelps at the sound, and more than once, a tile slips free and goes sailing downwards, the sound of it smashing against the ground below taking too many seconds to reach them to be comfortable. Rookie's looking unhealthily pale, and they swallow thickly, fix their eyes to a point on the horizon, and keep moving.

"Guess there weren't a lot of heights in DC to be afraid of, right?" Sarah says lightly, because this is the exact kind of situation to make jokes in, in her experience. "We took all that flatness for granted."

"I'm from a hole in the ground," Rookie hisses between locked teeth. "Ground level is already, like, a lot for me. Nobody should ever need to be this high up. Christ."

Well, Sarah can't argue with that one. Sure, maybe they needed all these floors for when the population wasn't restricted to the thousands at best, but even then... she eyes up the distant spires of the neighbouring high-rises and, well, part of her is pretty convinced it boiled down to a dick-measuring contest unlike any other. "Think of it like a cliff. A really, really tall cliff. Besides, this place has been standing this here long, right? What makes us two so likely to make it fall over n-"

As if on her cue, there's a low, long groan that reverberates all around, and Sarah swears she feels the building tilt behind her, Rookie now making swift progress from laughter to hyperventilation. Above, something clangs and bangs, which precedes an old filing cabinet falling from a higher floor, making Rookie jump as it tumbles past in a blur.

One Nuka Quantum, Sarah thinks to herself the split-second it's out of sight. Two Nuka Quantum, three Nuka Quantum, four-

The clatter from below echoes for miles, metal crunching like a tin can underfoot, and Sarah can only imagine how it must've compacted on impact. She tries not to. "Okay. Alright. Just... keep on moving."

Rookie nods once, their mouth clamped shut and their every breath accompanied by a wheeze, and their hand is now disgustingly sweaty against Sarah's palm. Or maybe that's her sweat. Probably both.

Inch by inch, Sarah gets closer to the door, hoping beyond hope that there isn't just a sheer drop beyond it where the stairs used to be, and as soon as she hits the corner and shuffles gingerly around to bring it just within touching distance, she untangles her hand from the cable above. Now, if either of them fall, they're both absolutely fucking screwed, and she once again choose not to think about it. Instead, she reaches over, grasping for the inch-wide opening down the middle, and in the same instant she manages to wrench the door halfway open, she drags herself and Rookie towards it with all the force she can muster, both of them tumbling through into a dark stairwell. So dark, in fact, that it takes Sarah a second to realise she didn't just shut her eyes in preparation for the freefall that might've been laying in wait. There's absolutely no natural light in the stairwell, given there's no windows, no lights, and absolutely no missing walls. It takes second for Sarah to realise that's a good thing.

"Jesus!" Rookie shouts, and unlike the awful endless echo is outside, this bounces right off the four solid walls like a blessing. "Fucking hell, if we survive this, you can tell those Scribe dipshits to get absolutely stuffed! Are you fucking kidding me with this?"

Sarah doesn't contest any of that, given she's absolutely inclined to agree. She bends down, hands on her knees, and takes in a few breaths of dusty, stifled air. Another blessing that sure doesn't feel like one. "Alright. Alright. We're good." Then, she stands up, and casts her gaze towards the mesmerising swirl of the twisting stairs above, leading up to the higher reaches of this skyscraper. "Just another, like, ten floors to go."

Rookie blinks, looks up also, and then gives Sarah a deceptively innocent stare. "On second thoughts," they say mildly, "you can go get stuffed first."

Yeah, Sarah thinks. She'd have said the same.

#fallout #fallout 4 #sarah lyons #lone wanderer #rookie reeves #my writing #rookie on the 20th floor: HUBRIS HUBRIS HUBRIS HUBRIS AAAAAA

14 notes · View notes

nellie-elizabeth · 3 years

Text

First Line Meme Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line, then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

tagged by @lizardkingeliot. Thanks!!! <3

This is going to be fun!

1. The Production of Penny. SPOILERS for A Comet Pulled From Orbit.

For the first several weeks, it’s just impossible to meet her. Penny will feel bad about it later, but he can’t take in any new stimuli when his entire body, mind, soul is shivering in the exposed light, trying to adjust to a reality he’d given up on returning to. He holes himself up with his family in one of his favorite places, a small house in Alaska, of all places, that he’d only just acquired and made comfortable when he’d—when he’d gotten himself trapped somewhere else.

2. The Way a Fool Would Do

You never really know what you’re getting into, when you choose to take a soulmate. Before Quentin had bound himself to Eliot, he’d been forced to endure the normal barrage of questions from the Fillorian Soul Council, and then a separate barrage of questions from his cousin Julia, who had nitpicked his choice down to the marrow, pouring concern after concern into Quentin’s already terrified brain.

He’d been so frustrated with her at the time, but in retrospect he can’t blame her for her caution. The fact is, no matter how much you prepare, no matter how much you think you’ve thought it all through, binding another soul to your own is unlike anything else in the world. It is impossible to know how it will feel until it’s already too late to turn back.

3. The Genesis of Julia

She decides, while watching the 1984 Summer Olympics one lazy day, a magically cool glass of lemonade on the table beside her as she lounges back into their comfiest armchair, to master gymnastics. The decision is made more or less on a whim; this is how Julia decides how to spend a great deal of her infinite life minutes, truthfully. She’s organized and meticulous once she knows her goal, but when it comes to finding said goal, it’s all about what strikes her fancy.

4. The Construction of Kady

The dust took a couple of weeks to settle, after Kady’s abrupt departure from her old life and chaotic intrusion into her new one. She’d been in the middle of war with her own people when she’d died for the first time, and the others had found her desperately attempting to steal magic from a rival hedge group in order to survive, too anxious about her own life to properly mourn for her mother’s death, and certainly too caught up in her own frantic mind to trust any of these new people, much less believe them about their immortality, or her own.

5. The Origins of Alice

There was no way to prepare for something like this. There was simply nothing she could do, nothing she could write down, no refinements she could make, that would help her to be more ready for what the morning would bring.

Alice hated that very much, of course.

6. The Creation of Quentin

The object in question was beautifully rendered, detailed and precise. A burnished color, the cool weight of it reassuringly solid in Q’s hands as he examined it, turning it over and over in his hands. This one wasn’t even particularly old; it looked to be a sixteenth century model, and Q had seen older and more beautiful in his time.

7. The Making of Margo

When Margo first met Alice, she understood her immediately. That wasn’t to say that Alice was boring, or predictable, or that there was nothing Margo had to learn about her. It wasn’t that at all. It was more that in meeting Alice, Margo was able to take one look at her and think to herself: ah, now this I know what to do with.

8. The Explanation of Eliot

El was afraid of heights, but only a little.

He could fly, after all, and that should have made fear illogical. But if anything, his ability to subvert gravity was the very reason for his nerves: he’d never been able to trust himself with anything, much less his own life or the life of others. The few times his telekinetic powers had been called in as a means of escape or rescue, when he’d held an innocent stranger or beloved family member in his arms and floated with them down from the side of a mountain or building or cliff face… well, those were the things he had nightmares about, on the rare occasions when he could remember his dreams. It was that sensation of freefall, of knowing it was magic, something inexplicable, deep in his consciousness, in his soul, even, that was the only thing preventing sharp, painful, deadly impact. He knew himself well enough to know he should never be trusted with something so precious as the life of another.

9. A Comet Pulled From Orbit

Alice Quinn woke up.

This was an unexpected development, considering the events of mere moments ago. Specifically the agonizing thirty seconds she’d spent bleeding out on the carpet, wondering in an abstract sort of way how long it would be before someone thought to look for her and found her mangled corpse tucked into the corner of a Brakebills Library study room, surrounded by the shredded remains of several large magical tomes, and her carefully collated notes.

---

Pausing here for a moment after the first 9 - eight of them are all part of one series. The main story, A Comet Pulled From Orbit, is an Alice POV AU of The Old Guard. Prominent Queliot subplot, some burgeoning Kalice and other ships as well. Lots of found family, etc. The other stories, all the ones with the seven main characters' names in them, are meant to be a series of small snippets to fill out that universe, backwards and forwards. I'm noticing that I do a lot of setup, I don't often start in medias res with any of these, trying to set a tone and get the information started right away. Each of the chapters of the snippet stories could be their own thing, so it's a little weird to consider it the start of a bigger story!!

Okay, moving on to earlier stories.

10. is it too late (or could this love protect me)

This is a story about nothing and everything. It is a story between then and now. It is a story of people living their lives, living them, and living them, and continuing to live them, with only some pedestrian heartbreak and alcoholism and good old millennial economic angst to add some variety to the humdrum of continued existence.

This is a story about stupidity, and love. Stupid love.

(A/N - hmm I kinda hate this beginning now even though I'm SUPER proud of the story as a whole)

11. Maybe This Time

"Quentin Coldwater?" Eliot says, twisting the name up in his mouth like an insult.

Give him a break - it's a weird fucking name, for one thing. And besides, the off-putting demeanor is an intentional scare tactic.

12. Beyond the Veil

"Do you think the Lorians would want a seat at the table?" Fen asked doubtfully, looking over the charter in front of her.

"Well, they're going to want to review the language, at any rate," one of the advisers put in. "Especially the order of the names."

"But it's in alphabetical order!" Margo said. "Fillory comes before Loria - sorry, not sorry."

13. Running All This Time

Quentin was sweet. There were a lot of words that Eliot could think of to describe him, several of them a lot more besotted than he was comfortable with, but sweet was an apt descriptor, generally speaking.

He had the softest little smile, and wide brown eyes that crinkled up in the corners when he was happy. He had strong yet gentle hands, hands that were somehow mesmerizing as he flapped them around wildly during conversation, trying to paint pictures in the air to accompany his latest rant about whatever-the-fuck. His voice was calming, his circular logic compelling, enough so that Eliot found himself listening - really listening - whenever Quentin was talking to him, even if it was about the Plover books and what they suggested about this time period in Fillorian history, or the politics of trade when it came to buying labor from talking animals, or how he may have come up with a better tracking system to mark down the mosaic patterns they'd already tried. Dry, uninteresting stuff, really. Which is what Eliot told Quentin, with an eye-roll, to stop him from getting a big head.

14. To Feel the Same

Quentin finds Eliot sitting alone in the armory, surrounded by books.

Something tense and frantic inside of him unclenches, like it always does around this man. It’s actually a remarkable thing, because by all rights Eliot should make him more nervous, not less. Quentin is a nervous person, after all, and Eliot is so… Eliot . A High King in his blood. Quentin had meant that, when he said it, and had drank in the gratitude in Eliot’s eyes like a glass of pure, crisp water, essential and quenching.

15. Identity Theft

The first thing the man noticed as he came to consciousness was that his head was pounding. It felt like the worst hangover he'd ever had, times about a million, and for several seconds all he could do was lay there and gasp and wait for his eyes to adjust. He appeared to be in a semi-dark room of some sort. It was large, with a cavernous ceiling above him, and the air was drafty. Like a garage maybe, bigger even - a warehouse?

The second thing he noticed was that he wasn't alone in the room. There were shapes all around him, rustling and making confused, pained sounds. After a few moments of this, there was a whoosh of energy and an orb of light floated above his head, illuminating the space in a soft glow. Someone in the room had cast a simple light spell. He looked around and sat up slowly, trying not to jostle his still pounding head. His next observation was that pretty much everyone in the room with him was kind of stupidly attractive.

16. Promises

Quentin gets about thirty seconds alone in his bedroom in the cottage, before Eliot is bursting through the door without knocking. It's not that he wasn't expecting him to take it hard, but seriously - can he not give Quentin just a couple of minutes of peace?

"This isn't happening," Eliot says without preamble, slamming the door shut behind him. "I'm sorry, Q, but it's not."

"I honestly don't think it's your decision to make," Quentin says, running a tired hand over his face.

17. The Curse of the Broken Vase (aka The One Where They Get Married and Nothing Goes Wrong)

Quentin was pacing.

He was pacing, and he was tugging his hands through his hair, which he really shouldn't be doing because it had actually taken a hairdresser an annoying amount of time to brush it out and tie it back, and apparently it was perfect now, even though Quentin couldn't really see how it was different from his normal lazy bun, but whatever.

There would be people, Eliot included, who would be annoyed with him for messing up his hair.

18. Liquid Courage

Eliot was fidgeting. Which was unusual, and generally not a good sign. But it still wasn't much of a warning, Quentin had thought to himself later, given what was about to happen. Then again, Eliot had been acting strangely all week, a little distant and distracted, and Quentin had known his partner was working up to discuss something with him.

Quentin had been worried, of course, but in an abstract sort of way. He figured whatever it was, the two of them were more than equal to the challenge. Given everything they'd been through over the entire course of their relationship, he really couldn't imagine any piece of news that would be capable of obliterating their lives.

19. Reciprocal

The thing about Quentin Coldwater was that it was pretty much impossible not to love him. Honestly, it wasn't even Eliot's fault - how was he expected to spend every second of every day around such a beautiful, adorable, kind person without letting it get to him? And the sex. Well. That was fucking incendiary, which really wasn't helping his resolve in the love department.

20. Fragments

It was a perfectly normal morning in Fillory. Which, honestly, should have been Quentin's first warning that things were about to go very, very wrong. Fillory was many things, but normal was not one of them: Q had gotten used to being woken up by harried castle employees, alerting him to one catastrophe or another. The Serpent War had ended months ago, but the paperwork was still pouring in like it had never stopped. His official role in the government wasn't supposed to have anything to do with the war efforts, but it had been an all-hands-on-deck situation for the last year or so.

---

Oh my goodness, this took me back to almost my first story in this fandom! I have 22 Magicians fics posted, so that's almost all of them...

I think my favorite of all of these is Maybe This Time, just because I like starting off with such an iconic moment from canon. It's the kind of fic that I hope resonates with people differently upon a re-read, and I like the strong, instantly recognizable hook. You read that first line and you know where you are, but you have no real idea where the story is about to take you.

I've also had a lot of fun writing Julia in the Comet 'verse and I like her opening line to the first snippet I did for her!

---

I'll tag @hmgfanfic, @ameliajessica, @hoko-onchi-writes, @freneticfloetry, @honeybabydichotomy, @allegria23, @spiders-hth-is-an-outlier, @rubickk7, @portraitofemmy, @propinquitous, and all others who want to!!

#queliot #the magicians #my fic #my posts

8 notes · View notes

good-rwbyaus · 4 years

Text

Be Careful Who You Blackmail pt. 1 / 2. | #Criminal Minds RWBY AU | mod lilac

AU Description: Based on n3b1r1us's AU Prompt where Jaune's plans usually consist of crimes. Also, Ren is the sole voice of reason because the rest of team JNPR are filthy enablers.

Cardin blackmails the wrong person. Story’s written in Cardin’s POV.

previous piece in this AU :: The Voice of Reason

Uggh. His head. Why’d it feel like he got hit with a sledgehammer or that all the blood in his body was rushing to his head? Did he fall out of bed or somethi-

Wait. Something’s wrong. It’s too windy. Wasn’t he sleeping in his tent earlier? Why was he outsi-

Cardin startled as he opened his eyes, the world upside-down as he dangled from a tree branch. Even worse was that the tree branch he was hanging from happened to be jutting past a cliffside, and underneath him was the forest of Forever Fall, cloaked in the shadow of night.

The alarming thing was that, underneath the ropes tying him like a hog, he was clad only in his boxers. No weapons, no armor, just him and the very real dangers of Remnant. Seriously, he needed to get out of here and find his way back before the Gri-

“Grrrrrrggr.”

His gaze turned directly downwards and met a pair of glowing red eyes. His throat dried up as a large vague outline peeked out of the treeline, a stalwart figure that only meant one thing in these parts.

The Grimm. An Ursa.

“Shit!” he couldn’t help but yell when the Ursa rose on its hindlegs, its attention clearly on him. Wiggling and flailing like a worm, he screamed to anyone that would listen, “Somebody. Anybody! Help!”

“You know if you keep screaming and moving, I might not be able to keep hanging onto this rope,” spoke a familiar voice.

Wasn’t that....

With dawning horror, Cardin lifted his gaze from the Ursa and spotted the last person he expected to see on the cliff. Peeking out from behind the tree he was tied to, Jaune waved his hand jauntily while holding his lifeline in his hand.

No way. Jaune didn’t have the guts to do what he was threatening. This was after all Jaune, a doormat shaped like a person. Didn’t voice a complaint despite the humiliating things he’s requested Jaune to do in exchange for not telling Ozpin about the blond’s faked transcripts. Hell, even during this trip, he was always scurrying away and hiding in the most random places in Forever Fall just to avoid him. A clear bluff.

Cardin gritted his teeth in anger and sent a sneer towards his fellow classmate.

"Jaune! When I get out of these ropes, I’m going t- AHHH!" Gravity suddenly took hold of his body, the ground closing extremely fast. His eyes closed shut as his screams rang through the night.

“Hurk.” A sudden resistance took hold as the rope around his feet pulled taut.

Realizing he’d been given a momentary reprieve, Cardin opened his eyes once more and found the Ursa was a lot closer than he’d like. Its claws groped skywards trying to reach the tasty morsel just dangling out of its reach. A warbling discontent growl echoed from its maw as he felt himself being pulled upward towards the cliff edge and met the face of his tormentor once more.

"I was really patient, you know. Ren said that bullies go away if you don't give them a reaction,” Jaune explained as he kneeled down to meet him eye-to-eye, the same innocent smile still plastered on - as if the blond hadn’t tried to send him to his death seconds earlier. "And well you just didn’t go away. So you thought to blackmail me instead.” The blond began unfurling the rope in his grip, Cardin belatedly realizing what his classmate was going to do again.

“STO-!”

He felt another jolt as he descended the cliff in freefall, screaming. Only when he felt the rope pull taut against his legs did he have the courage to open his eyes once again. He wish he hadn’t. He saw the metallic glint of the Ursa’s claws sail right past his nose, the wind of its swipes beating upon his face. He was so close to the abomination that he could smell it, a disgusting cloying mix of sugary syrup and iron. And within its eyes, he could see his brutal death reflected in its crimson hues. Even with Aura, you don’t survive an Ursa, even a Minor, without weapons and armor. "Stop lowering me Jaune! Pull me up! Pull me up! If you don’t, I’m going to-!”

What was his stupid mouth about to say?! Threatening Jaune at this point? When Jaune was already willing to go this far?!

“Jaune! Come on. We can talk it out! You know you can’t get away with this. I won’t say anything if you just st-"

"Oh. I am going to get away with this; I just haven’t gotten to that part yet,” Jaune grinned. “You know, I nearly died several times trying to find the most obscure places to hide, knowing that you and your team were looking for me, even after off hours." The blond rubbed his jaw with his free hand. “I even remember taking a couple punches for inconveniencing you too.”

The insane boy moved his hand away from his chin and snapped his fingers. “But now team CRDL has the reputation of being reckless explorers, breaking the rules to explore deeper into dangerous areas. Such a gunner, you. Even going out at night to prove your worth.” The blond sniffled a few times, hand wiping a fake tear, as if he were a proud parent watching his kid get an award.

“Not a bad result from a game of hide and seek, right?” the blond looked straight at him, grinning.

How- Him chasing Jaune through Forever Fall was part of Jaune’s plans? How many steps was Jaune thinking ahead? How long was he planning all this behind his back? How deep was he in the other boy’s schemes?! He’d always thought it a joke when people said Jaune was a brilliant tactician, but....

Cardin shivered as he felt himself being slowly pulled upwards towards the cliff again. His blood turned cold upon seeing the expression that met him, Jaune looking like the very cat that’s found a mouse to 'play’ with. He wanted to say something more to Jaune, but the fear that he’d say the wrong thing and be sent plunging to his death stayed his tongue.

“And well, as for me getting away with this...”

Jaune opened up a Scroll and revealed a screen displaying a live recording dot and a familiar blond figure talking to the rest of team JNPR at the campfire.

Cardin could only stare at the Scroll in horror.

"How?”

“You don’t have to ask where I got the body double. In any case when morning comes and roll call happens, everything’s going to think Cardin Winchester bit more than he can chew and never came back,” Jaune said solemnly. “Your team...well, your team will go on an ill-advised journey to avenge you and then disappear forever into the depths of Forever Fall. No one will ever find the bodies.”

The blond held his chest with his free hand and closed his eyes, momentarily silent.

“I’m sure Beacon Academy will provide your families the appropriate remuneration.”

This lunatic's going to kill him. And he’s not going to let off the rest of his team. His heart pounded like a jackhammer. Jaune’s seriously trying to kill him. This isn’t a joke. He’s going to die. He doesn’t want to die. No-

“Look Jaune. Jaune. Buddy. Friend. I wasn’t really going to tell Ozpin. Really. It-was-a-joke. And-”

“Yeah about that, I'll admit those forgeries weren’t my greatest work,” Jaune scratched his chin in bemusement. “They look good at first glance and even at second glance, but well it was my first time, and I might’ve overdone it when I realized it might give me a chance to meet my idol.”

“But there’s no good excuses for poor work, and I really have a reputation to keep,” Jaune stated sincerely before looking at him straight in the eyes, expression as serious as death.

This didn’t seem quite right. Wasn’t Jaune scared about being expelled from Beacon? When did this becom-

Jaune must’ve seen the surprise in his eyes because the blond laughed.

“Oh. You were thinking Professor Ozpin would expel me for something like a fake transcript?” Jaune laughed, “After I made it this far? After showing I can learn and become a great tactician and leader? When there’s students from Beacon who’ve never been to any sort of combat academy at all? As far as I’m concerned...”

“He’d probably give me extra credit if he knew,” Jaune bared a toothy grin. “Cardin, the only reasons why I let you blackmail me was because I didn’t need to be known as someone who did shoddy work and that I didn’t want my peers thinking I cheated the system to get in. Even if I totally did.”

“Wow. What a funny misunderstanding. But... well now we’re here, “ Jaune shrugged, “Though one of us won’t be shortly.”

His heart skipped a beat, alarm bells ringing in his head. His breath turned unsteady as he tried not to succumb to the growing panic and horror; he thought he had Jaune figured out, only to find he’d been provoking a complete psychopath all along.

“Look. Jaune. I won’t say anything at all. I won’t bother you ever again. I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll clean your clothes. I’ll clean your team’s clothes. I’ll pay y-”

“Your offer sounds really good,” Jaune held a hand up as he interrupted, “but I’m the type to get rid of trouble before it festers. I mean, if I get rid of you and your team now, I don’t have to worry about having my reputation smeared in the future. Don’t worry, Cardin. I’ll make sure you have company.” The blond began unwinding the rope from his arm again, “Bye Card-”

“NO! Please! I don’t wanna die. My mom and dad are waiting for me back home. Ihaven’tmade a name for myself. Please! Idonwanttodieireallywanttolive. illwalkyourdog. ill make pancak-” The incoherent blabbling wasn’t something he could help, the words forming faster in his head than his mouth could say them. The tears and nose dripped down his face and forehead as he tried everything to appease this demon from hell. Pride - who needed pride at this point - just as long as he could stay alive!

As he babbled continuously, the blond boy just hummed as if considering his words.

“illbeatupwhoeveryouwant. illbeyourlackey. illfetchyouyourlocker. please don’t kill m-”

“Hmmm,” Jaune tilted his head, “Okay.”

“and I’ll- Huh?” He couldn’t help but drop his jaw in surprise, his brain screeching to a halt at that simple single utterance. After all this talk about killing him, was- was Jaune seriously going to let him go?

“Oh, you’d rather the Ursa have you? Well if that’s the cas-

“No!”

The blond smirked in amusement.

“Alright. I’ll let you go for now. But remember, if you speak a word about this or the other thing to anyone else...”

“I won’t. I swear. I’ll-” He was definitely going to stay far away from the clearly unstable blond if he could help it. No one can pay him enough t-

“Just remember, I can get to you at any time. It might be eaten by an Ursa today,” Jaune whimsically said, “It could be maimed by a disgruntled bunny-eared Faunus tomorrow. Well. Good night.”

“Good nigh-? Urgkurguurugurg.”

His body spasmed uncontrollably as something struck into the back of his neck. And then he knew no more.

#criminal minds RWBY AU #jaune arc #rwby au #cardin winchester #and no not Neo #rwby fanfic #mod lilac

68 notes · View notes

ieatmypizzawithaforkandknife · 3 years

Text

MAG 021 - Freefall

Summary: Jonathan reads the statement of Moira Kelly, regarding “the disappearance of her son Robert.”

This was one of my least favorite episodes my first time through the season, which is kind of funny considering how much I loved it the second time around. (I didn’t hate it the first time around, for the record - I think it was just overshadowed by the plot-heavy two-parter right before it and by the one after it, and I just didn’t give it the consideration it deserved.)

That poor woman. Like Father Burroughs, as far as we know, Robert Kelly did nothing to “deserve” his fate, and his mother certainly didn’t deserve to see that happen to him. She only saw him a few times a year because of how busy he kept himself, and then he comes home unexpectedly and poof! Gone the next day forever.

The incident on his last skydive seems to have been abrupt and without warning: as far as we know, Robert doesn’t know anything is wrong prior to Simon saying those three words to him. Like so many of these stories, I’m left wondering: Why Robert? Why did Simon (apparently) choose him? Did something else happen that we don’t know about that would explain it, or was it just a wrong-place-wrong-time type thing? If Robert wasn’t targeted for a specific reason, then what was Simon’s motivation?

“Enjoy sky blue” intrigues me, not because of what it is but what it isn’t. I’ve come to expect that, when a character says something Grade A Creepy, we’re going to hear that creepy static/interference over their words. But here it’s conspicuously absent, and if it weren’t for the immediate dizziness and the endless sky Robert found himself in a moment later, the words wouldn’t have been much more than a blip on my radar. Was it an oversight when they were editing in the sound effects? I can’t imagine that they’d just forget to put something like that in, especially when it’s been pretty consistently sprinkled throughout the rest of the season so far. So it bugs me.

I really liked the apparent contrast (but really parallels) between this episode and episode 15, “Lost John’s Cave”. In this episode Robert’s mother says that he always enjoyed high-risk activities involving heights, that he “always climbed higher” and “always pushed further” than his friends. In episode 15 Laura says that caving was her only real hobby, partly because of the cost, but also because she loved the feeling of being deep down in the earth that much. And in the wrap-up for this episode, Jonathan says that “Open Skydiving” has never existed - or, more accurately, there was no trace of any of the licenses or permits that would be required for a skydiving business, though there were a few mentions of it in newspapers around the time; likewise, in episode 15, Jonathan notes that there is no trace of the permits Laura claims to have gotten for their caving trip. Lastly, there is the climactic event itself: a person’s unexplainable disappearance. In both cases, a person straight-up disappears under circumstances that don’t make any kind of sense for a person to disappear under. In both cases it’s either implied or said outright that nature itself swallows them. Laura doesn’t see the exact moment her sister Elena disappears forever, but several times during her statement it seems like the rock shifts around her, and in this episode Moira saw the sky twist and shift and, for lack of a better way to describe it, eat Robert.

Which brings me to my favorite part of the episode: Moira’s description of the sky when Robert disappeared. She says at the beginning that “it makes my head hurt awfully when I try to remember it well enough to describe”, and when she actually gets to that part of the story, she doesn’t describe what she saw so much as explains what she didn’t see: “He didn’t fall or fly or take off. There wasn’t anything in the sky that took him - it wasn’t a hand that reached out and grabbed him, it was the sky itself - the whole sky, as far as the horizon I could see, that twisted around and moved like…like the shifting of sand.” Like the pile of meat that “opened all its eyes” in episode 18, something happened right in front of our narrator that their mind just could not comprehend somehow. It’s incredibly cool to think about, but also absolutely terrifying.

I have to wonder what made Robert push her away from him at the very end. Did he see something, like the beginning of the shifting of the sky that Moira described? Or did he feel something, like the plummeting sensation of falling or the dizziness and confusion he felt during his last skydive?

I thought it was really cool that his last skydive was described as “bright, he kept saying, it was so bright”, and just last episode Father Burroughs described the church in his fever dream as “it was bright...so bright”. I don’t mean to imply there’s any kind of specific connection here - I just think back to what I was feeling and picturing at those moments in each episode and once again have to commend Jonny on his amazing writing and performance, because these two nearly identical lines felt so completely different.

But I am wondering if there’s a connection between what happens to Robert in this episode and Ex Altiora (the Leitner featured in episode 4). The book’s title alone would make me wonder, but more important is the contents of the book and its effect on those who read it. Dominic says it contains a series of illustrations: “a mountain or a cliff or in one picture what appeared to be an empty night sky. I felt an odd sensation when I looked at that image as though, simple as it was, I was about to fall into it, and my stomach gave an odd jolt”. Dominic lost time (about an hour) while looking at the book - the opposite of what happened to Robert, as it felt like he was falling for hours or even days when he only fell for an extra 15 minutes. Also the-same-but-opposite is the fact that the main Ex Altiora illustration featured in episode 4 was of a night sky, whereas Robert’s experience was with a day sky - “an endless sky blue nothing”, as Jonathan calls it.

I’d like to end with my favorite Jonathan quote of the episode, from the very beginning of the wrap-up at the end: “Before I address the central point of this statement, namely the question of [sigh] whether the sky can eat people”. ily Jonathan lmao please never change.

This post is part of a series where I write my thoughts about each episode and obsessively connect dots in an effort to figure out The Big Mysteries of the series. All posts in this series are tagged “is this liveblogging?” Comments and messages are welcome but I have only listened to season 1, so I ask that you not spoil me for anything beyond episode 40. In the words of Jonny Sims…thanks for listening!

#personal #liveblogging #is this liveblogging?#The Magnus Archives

9 notes · View notes

lordsireno · 4 years

Text

RvB - You live with your choices

AU where Dr Leonard L. Church has a curse. The people he connects with... Are bound to live long lives.

((Trope reversal of 'everyone I love is dead' where starting from Allison and somehow progressing into Freelancer, everyone survives the most outrageous encounters.))

((Warnings: Descriptions of blood and injury, the Director being twisted as usual))

“When he thinks back, it started with Allison.

The love of his life was a monster on the battlefield, and she’d gone to hell and back multiple times, killing and surviving against all odds. He always fretted that one day her luck would run out, but her smile chased those fears away. Then the day comes when he gets the letter; MIA, presumed KIA due to the overwhelming force her squad faced. He mourns her and wonders how he’ll explain it to their daughter.

Except he doesn’t have to explain. Only a few brief days later they get the news that she’s alive. Bloodied, broken, but inexplicably alive. Her survival is hailed as a miracle, and Leonard accepts that as the truth. While she recovers, the family spend some time together.

One day, as Carol does her best to balance without training wheels, her bike runs away with her into oncoming traffic. Her scream haunts her parents, as does the sight of the bloody mess on the road. She’s rushed to hospital, where after surgery the Doctors breath the word miracle again, and the doubt beings to creep in.

And doubt in miracles only grows as time goes on. A family holiday sends them over a cliff, crushed in their own car as the bitter night plunges below zero, however when they’re found the next morning, they’re all alive. Allison goes back to active service and has training equipment crush her. Leonard goes back to his lab work and gets electrocuted. Carol encounters a bear on a school hike.

They survive. They survive through so much that miracle doesn’t even begin to cover it. Not even a guardian angel would go to this much work. An idea beings to stir in Leonard’s head, but he knows funding doesn’t exist for wild theories. But there is funding for the next magic bullet for the war effort, and with his research, he successfully pitches the idea of Project Freelancer.

He collects a range of soldiers, assigns them code names, and begins testing his theory behind the scenes.

Team A works directly with him. He gives them personal briefings, observes their training, gives them feedback, and overall forms a personal connection with each of the soldiers. Team B does the same under Allison. They do missions, go into combat under the worst conditions, and what The Director sees as proof beings to show up. Both teams are surviving the impossible, while grunts dying left and right. However every so often someone from Team B was dying as well, leaving the Director to assume Allison’s training was their survivability factor.

Meanwhile, Alpha is busy operating the MoI, keeping the ship functional and overseeing staff schedules. One night while running diagnostics, Alpha finds a Freelancer using the empty hallways as their own personal skate park. He watches him and can’t help but make a sarcastic comment when they fall. The following hours are filled with jovial bickering, and then the offer from Agent Washington to let Alpha into his AI slot to experience skateboarding. They part ways only when the new shift starts to wander along.

A mission comes along that has Washington, Idaho and two grunts together on the Pelican, joking and playing 5 things. The Director asks Alpha, who is remotely flying the ship, to set it to land. As the system changes, the ship pitches and goes into freefall, and Alpha panics. Wash checks to cockpit to find no pilot, as Alpha checks, and finds the ship was faulted on purpose. He questions the Director, who is uncaring about the peril the agents are in, and freaks out when it hits the ground and the life signs flatline. Alpha logs off and only with a passing through does the Director send out a clean up crew. Except after some time passes, a distress call comes in. The Director hears that its one of the downed agents, miraculously alive. And when recovery gets to them, the word miracle crops up once again.

The Director is perplexed, yes there are outlying cases of people surviving against the odds, but why now? He remembers Alpha’s reaction and pulls up the activity logs to find why the AI was concerned about a low ranked agent. As Washington recovers on the MoI, the Director lets Alpha speak with him, but only him. There’s a new theory to test.

Washington is put through the ringer, sent on suicide missions. His orders come from Alpha, and the AI hates itself for it. Wash survives and survives and survives, but the act of living is getting harder with little support. The Director is ecstatic with the results, further evidence that the immortal curse is linked to ‘Leonard Church’ but not in a physical sense. Then the stress leads to Alpha’s fragmenting, so the Director moves to test these lesser AI pieces.

Eventually, the ethics of Project Freelancer start coming to light, and even Allison and Carolina are feeling that this has gone too far. The Chairman has begun an investigation. The Councillor is pulling away. Everything begins to collapse in on itself, but the Director can’t let go.

He organises to hide Alpha away, tucked in some end of system box canyon, watched by one of his agents and recorded by a dumb AI. He want’s to see if even the twisted remains of the AI could pass on his curse, and how far it can spread.

#Red vs Blue #leonard church #The Director #rvb fic #Agent Carolina #Agent Washington #Allison Church #Alpha #You live with your choices #Everyone lives AU #excpet the bad kind #Yes then we get immortal blood gulch crew #not like they aren't already but you get what I mean #rvb #MonkeyWrites #Sorry to those where read more doesnt work oof

23 notes · View notes

prongsdamnyou · 4 years

Text

i had a lot of fun writing about this time i jumped off a cliff so i thought i’d share. the formatting is probably really bad and i probably missed a lot of errors but i hope it’s not too bad.

It’s been several years since I decided it would be a good idea to jump off a cliff, and I still don’t know why I did it. The only thing I know for sure is that I am in fact an idiot. Most people who do things like jumping from cliff tops do them because they are brave and reckless people in general who enjoy crazy things like that. Or maybe it’s because they want to impress their friends. Not me. I had none of these excuses. I’m a very cautious person for the most part. I don’t get off on the adrenaline rush from doing crazy shit. And I certainly wasn’t trying to impress anybody. Nobody even realized I was on top of the cliff until I was already leaping. Somehow, despite my usual cautiousness and practicality, I was possessed by that brand of insanity which impulsive teenagers often fall victim to and I jumped off a fucking cliff.

It was a really nice day. My family was on vacation in Lake Powell and we decided it would be fun to go cliff jumping because it usually is when you’re smart about it. We chose a nice overhang that looked a bit like if you cut a dome in half, with a steady slope so people could choose a height they were comfortable with, whether that be 5 feet or many times higher than that. I have never liked cliff jumping all that much, when we all got off the boat and onto the sandstone, I thought that instead of jumping, it would be nice to see what the view from the top of the cliff looked like. So while the rest of my family and friends chose nice, fun spots to jump to jump from, I climbed up to the top of the cliff.

The view from the top of that cliff is actually quite spectacular, but I only know that because I’ve been back many times since. This particular time I wasn’t admiring the view. Instead, I was staring down at the water. I distinctly remember thinking, Damn, this doesn’t even look that high from up here. And of course the natural progression from this thought was for me to think I could jump, with a degree of nonchalance that was frankly obscene. Before the rational part of my brain could say STOP!!! STOP!!! THIS IS A FUCKING TERRIBLE IDEA!!! ABORT!!!, I was already too far along to be stopped by something so trivial as rational thought.

Needless to say, this didn’t go well and I can only guess at the reasons for what happened next. First, my brain was in a state of great confusion which, if you think about it from the brain’s perspective, is completely rational. For some unknown reason the body it lives in had leapt from the edge of a cliff despite the brain saying, in no uncertain terms, not to do that. This confusion led naturally to fear and to panic in a remarkably short amount of time. A second thing that went wrong is that when you jump from a great height, you are in the air for much longer than you might’ve expected before you jumped. This shouldn’t have been a problem. It should have just been an interesting fact that I learned about jumping off of things. But the freefall combined with the raging panic in my mind caused me to get very dizzy and black out.

Obviously this was a rather bad time for my brain to take a vacation, as I was plummeting towards the water and I needed to keep my body in line otherwise impact was going to be a bit of an unpleasant affair, but as we have seen so far in this story, my brain clearly wasn’t doing a very good job of keeping my rebellious body in line even when I was conscious so even if I hadn’t blacked out it might have been just as unpleasant.

I couldn’t have been out of it for more than a second or two, just a bit of a reboot for my brain to get a handle on what the fuck was happening without being bombarded by all the strange sensory input that comes with jumping from large cliffs. Unfortunately, a lot can happen in a second or two. Especially when your body is accelerating towards something which is sure to be extremely painful.

The lights came on in my brain pretty quickly, but not quickly enough to do anything about the unfortunate position my body had gotten into while I was blacked out. My arms and legs had splayed out kind of like a jellyfish (which, funnily enough, is not ideal when your goal is to remain as straight as possible), and my chin was against my chest so I had a very nice view of the water which was rapidly rising up to greet me.

In retrospect, I wish that my brain had waited a few more seconds before waking up because since that moment, I have not felt anything that has even approached the level of terror I felt right then. I had just enough time to register the unfortunate position I was in, and to think, I’m so fucked, before I hit the water.

Impact was, as you might have guessed, not very fun. My memory of it is pretty strange because even though it all happened in a fraction of a second, it feels like I can remember everything about it. I can still almost feel each part of my body as it hit the water.

What happened with my legs was a bit strange. Due to the aforementioned jellyfish-like configuration my body found itself in, my left leg was not pointed straight down. It wasn’t even close. Instead of straight down it was pointing way off to the left. This meant that when I hit the water, it got wrenched even further to the left. Looking back on that, I don’t know how that didn’t go worse than it did. I managed to avoid any torn or pulled muscles and just got away with a very sore groin for a few days.

My right leg was not so lucky. It was not pointed way out of position like the left leg had been. No, above the knee, it was positioned nearly perfectly, if not a little bit too far to the left. But the knee was ever so slightly bent, and my foot pointed just a little to the right. This doesn’t sound like it would be that bad but I assure you that it was. When my right foot hit the water, my lower leg got wrenched to the right, but my upper leg didn’t go with it. This meant that instead of bending forward and backward like knees are supposed to do, my knee bent sideways.

It’s a good thing that I’m not much of an athlete because my knee has never been the same. According to my doctor, when I hit the water my tibia got rotated to the side and it just sort of stayed there. But it’s pretty hard to notice unless you look at my feet and see that my right foot points a little bit to the right instead of straight forward. Most days it’s not a problem but every once in a while my MCL will feel like it’s on fire for a day or two.

My upper body got off a lot easier than my legs when they hit the water. My arms looked a bit like I was doing a really lazy T pose so they slapped the water really hard but while that hurt a lot in the moment, it went away quickly.

My head on the other hand was completely facing down. As I mentioned before, my chin was against my chest so when I hit the water my face got absolutely smashed, and my head was whipped back into position. I assume this gave me a concussion because I had really bad headaches for days.

I don’t actually remember being underwater. The next thing I remember clearly was sort of floating on my back towards the boat and being really confused about everything. I couldn’t swim well because my right knee felt like it had just been ripped off then put back on, and my neck couldn’t hold my head up.

My dad was laughing his ass off and was weirdly proud that I had just done this fantastically stupid thing. “That was amazing!”, he was saying while he clapped and laughed. My mom was in utter shock. She just stared at me with a slack jaw, then she stared at the cliff, then she stared at me some more.

My older brother was the only one who noticed anything was wrong which is kind of crazy because I’m pretty sure I was groaning in pain that whole time. He swam over to me and noticed that I couldn’t really move my right leg without intense pain. At that point my dad sobered up and helped me into the boat.

The only explanation that I can think of for why I jumped off of that cliff is that my subconscious mind must have misinterpreted my conscious thought, This isn’t that high. I could jump, to mean, Hold my beer, I’m gonna fucking jump.

Luckily, like most stupid decisions, there is a lesson to be learned from this. If you think that you are capable doing stupid shit, you will inevitably end up doing said stupid shit. So, the next time you find yourself thinking about jumping off your own metaphorical cliff, I urge you to think about this story and remember the consequences such thinking can have. Or just remember this story when you feel like laughing at my stupidity.

6 notes · View notes

starswornoaths · 4 years

Text

The Deal We’re Making

Commission for @eremiss of Gwen and Thancred. I absolutely adore them, have I mentioned that? Thank you so much for your patronage, friend!

Spoilers for 4.4, however vague, below the cut!

Commission info!

For all the upheaval and mutiny that had shifted the tectonic plates of Ala Mhigan political landscape, Gyr Abania itself looked more or less the same as it always did from here. To observe the sandy, slaty plains brushed with autumnal foliage and freckled with pockets of civilization, Gwen could almost pretend naught had happened at all.

Almost, she thought, and without conscious effort, spared a glance at her Scion accomplice.

Thancred’s eye could no longer catch hers, blind even behind the eyepatch as it was, but even still he must have felt her look at him. That he had to turn his head further to meet her stare was an adjustment he was still clearly not accustomed to, reluctantly craning his neck as he did. Still, his smile seemed easy enough, even as his eye glanced down to her journal, laid open in her lap.

“Chronicling our adventures for future bards to turn to song, are we?” He asked with that familiar roguish grin.

As if anyone but him read her journal. As if anyone but him were permitted. Gwen pursed her lips to hide her smile.

“Not unless you might be able to turn uneventful reconnaissance into a ballad to stand the test of time?”

“Challenge for the ages, truly. One that not even a bard of my caliber could manage— not even one with a muse so lovely as mine.” Thancred replied.

When his eye squinted shut oddly and sharply, Gwen couldn’t help but cock an eyebrow at him in confusion. After a moment of puzzling out what had happened, she chanced a guess: “...Was that...your attempt at a wink?”

“I am at a bit of a disadvantage, dove.” He blanched, offering her a plain look. “Cut me some slack.”

The bark of laughter that bubbled up from her throat felt sharp, and she barely managed to hide how the sound startled her with a cough. Just down the slope of the cliff, Duskfeather ruffled at the disturbed quiet, but resumed his vigil with minimal fussing.

“You of all people, asking for some slack while on the job?” Gwen asked playfully, closing her journal.

She didn’t need to see both of his eyes to realize he winced at the comment, and she bit back a curse at her thoughtless words.

“Trying to get better at it, perhaps.” Thancred said in a voice just airy enough to tell her that she’d unintentionally needled at an old bruise.

“I’m— I mean that it’s a good thing,” Gwen tried to hopelessly correct herself. “I should say— I’m glad that you’re—”

“I know, dove.” Thancred reassured her just as quickly, and despite them being afield, he reached over and gently squeezed her hand briefly. Nothing too untoward or unprofessional, but grounding. Solid, amidst ever shifting times. Enough, for the both of them. “It’s fine.”

The tentative but warm touch also reminded Gwen of why they were there in the first place. Check the patrol routes for the Resistance and Alliance forces, teach the locals how to protect themselves against the bigger threats they would commonly face, prepare them to stand on their own two feet— and all before the Eorzean and Doman Alliances came together to discuss a union of banners against the Garlean Empire.

But for such a monumental meeting to even happen, those in power, both within and without the Eorzean Alliance, had to take a hard look at their fault lines and begin to at least patch the cracks— and for that, the Scions were once more relied upon.

For all the apprehension that she had in dwelling on anything beyond the meeting itself, Gwen hoped their preparations would be enough.

Well, she hoped for that, and for a chance to breathe between now and that meeting. Ideally, to breathe alongside Thancred, but that was a fantasy, and she knew that. It had felt like they had just kept going, going, going, since the banquet— and while that distance had been crossed, Gwen wondered if she was the only one that questioned if they had really taken stock of how they had changed— together and alone. She wondered if he had allowed himself a moment to let it all catch up to him.

“Dove?” Thancred inquired quietly. It was just loud enough to pull her from her reverie, enough for her to see he was watching her with concern writ plain on his face. “Are you alright?”

In his careful examination, he leaned close enough to her that her world only smelled of sandalwood, the wildflowers and fresh air fading in the background. All of her focused on all of him, and she swallowed heavily, even as she welcomed being swallowed whole by every ilm of his deceptively deep waters.

“I’m fine.” Gwen insisted, and straightened out the front of her coat as if it would right her thoughts along with it. “Just have a lot on my mind is all.”

Thancred nodded in understanding, his face relaxing into something more pensive.

“A lot’s been happening, dove— and I don’t just mean recently.”

Gwen nodded. Even as she noted the aching heaviness in her shoulders, she felt that pressure weighed as it should.

“I know what we’re doing out here helps— I know that.” She rolled her shoulders in an effort to readjust her burdens. “It feels like busy waiting all the same.”

“You’ve just described most of my job, dove.” Thancred snorted a laugh. “Surely there is more bothering you than mere impatience?”

Gwen took a moment to consider what her answer should be, tested the taste of some choice words she had wanted to have, but found none of them palatable in that moment. Swallowing them was nearly as arduous a task as spitting them out, difficult enough that she had to convince herself to press them down.

“No, nothing.” She lied with no small amount of difficulty.

Heaving a heavy sigh and raking a hand through her bangs, she tucked her journal away in her pack. Swinging the pack over her shoulders again, she took another sweep of the valleys below their cliffside vantage point.

“Come on, one more sweep of the perimeter should do.” She brushed dirt — imagined and not — from her pants as if the motion would sweep her thoughts away with it.

“Why not take a moment longer to observe the path from this vantage point?” Thancred countered, surprising her. “One can never be too careful when surveying a road, after all. In particular when one is meant to find fault in it.”

“We’ve seen plenty— we should check the blindspots near Castrum Oriens—” When she turned away from the cliff, intent on taking the path back down to Duskfeather, Thancred caught her hand in his.

“Gwen,” he called with soft insistence. “A moment.”

She twisted at the waist, intent on debating their need for haste as she moved back down the path, but when she met his gaze, every ilm of her grew still. He looked at her as if he were beckoning her back to him, struggling with every onze of himself all the while. He looked painfully cognisant of the time and distance between them in that moment, too aware of the grief that had muted him but for his anger.

With a hum of agreement, Gwen pivoted back on her heels, her whole body leaning toward True North, to home, to him.

“Thank you.” He sighed in relief.

Some of the tension in his shoulders bled off at her agreement, if only just. There was still a tightness to his gaze, not quite scrutiny, but something close. When the weight of it was finally more than she was comfortable with, she shied her gaze away.

“You’re staring.” She mumbled for lack of knowing what else to say.

“Appreciating.” Thancred corrected with a roguish grin. “I’ve always been a purveyor of fine art, you know.”

“Thancred, please.” Heat bloomed across her face in spite of herself. Even as the stream of emotions that rushed in rapids in the space between them raged with uncertainty, Gwen reached across with the hand he wasn’t holding and laid it gently on his arm to bridge them together. Warmth suffused through her at the contact, even through her glove, and she soaked in what comfort she could at the familiarity of it, of him. “You know that isn’t what I meant.”

The facade fell away again with a wince, and his gaze was pulled to her hand on his forearm. “You’re right— and I think I can take a guess at what’s been bothering you so.”

Gwen hummed thoughtfully. “With everything that’s happened...with so much yet to happen, I feel as though I’m in freefall.”

“That...sounds familiar.” Thancred admitted almost too quietly for her to hear, even as close as she was.

“I know we’ve found each other again—” she squeezed his arm to emphasize how important it was that he was there— and perhaps in part, to keep him from being ripped away from her again. “I’m happy for that, you must know that—”

“I do.” He reassured her with a nod. “As am I.”

“But we can’t— we can’t pretend that either of us are the same after...after everything.” Her shoulders slumped of their own volition, and their weight dragged her head down a few ilms, just enough to tear her gaze away from his and stare down at the white band of leather wrapped around his neck. “It feels like we’ve scarcely had a chance to breathe, let alone…”

Let alone process everything that had come before this moment. All the loss, the oppressive weight looming heavy over them like a precariously hung guillotine. Had they given themselves— and each other— even a moment to breathe since they had supped on bitter betrayal in Ul’Dah? Did they even know who they were in the wake of all their grief, and if the people they had become were still able to go on as they had?

“Gwen?” Thancred pulled her back to the Fringes, back to the here and now. Anchored by his hand holding hers, she took a shuddering breath to calm herself.

“My thoughts got away from me.” She admitted with no small amount of reluctance. Gently, she took her hand from his grasp, let go of his arm, and pushed her bangs back. “It’s...a struggle to know what to say.”

Thancred nodded in understanding, though she noted that he was looking away from her now, eye fixed on the path leading back to where Duskfeather now preened his feathers as he awaited their return. Gwen couldn’t decide whether she preferred the intense scrutiny or him not looking at her at all.

“I imagine I’ve not made that any easier.” He spoke up.

She felt akin to a ship with no anchor in this conversation, and before she even had time to consider the tumultuous waters they had not yet sailed through her palm sought to press itself over his heart like a ship in the night following the beacon of the lighthouse on shore.

“War has not made that any easier.” She added.

“True enough, but I won’t pretend I’ve been...available. Not as much as I should be.” Thancred admitted with great difficulty. His face twisted into a grimace, though made a point to look at her again as his hand came to cover hers and press it tighter against him. “No need to make excuses for me, dove.”

She hadn’t been— or at least, she hadn’t meant to, though she could see his point. With him in particular, even the other Scions, since they had all reunited after the banquet, had been careful to give him a wide berth more often than not, emotionally and sometimes physically, depending on how foul a mood he’d given off.

That distance had persisted leading up to them actually, unexpectedly being able to say farewell to Minfilia. After that, Thancred had needed space to process besides...so they had subconsciously made that the new normal. Just letting Thancred process his feelings in due time while still being close enough to know they were there for him. It had been all anyone could think to do.

Even Gwen had given him space in the early months following their reunion. She couldn’t help but remember how tense he had been wound up when she found him in the Carline Canopy, just before she was meant to make for the Carteneau Flats with Cid, Nero, and the others in search of information on how to unshackle Omega. Even as she had sat in the stifling quiet and struggled to find the words to reach him in the scant moments she had stolen for them. With her forehead pressed against his shoulder and his tension bleeding into her, she felt like there was an unfathomable distance between them in that moment.

They had found one another some handful more times since, and the letters in the space between those collisions had helped smooth over many of the uncomfortable tension that had been there, though it was hard not to liken them to calluses forming on the heart. Were they healing, or just building familiarity with the same wounds over and over again until they couldn’t be hurt by it anymore? Could either of them even tell the difference at this point?

“Sorry,” Gwen said, and with conscious effort unwound her shoulders. Her fingers flexed against his chest. “I never meant to— I only meant it wasn’t only our own struggles making things harder.”

“A fair point.” Thancred conceded with a sigh. “Still, you’re right. We haven’t truly talked, and we need to. I might not like it, but I know that we do. We just haven’t...when has there really been time?” When she parted her lips to reply he added, “When have we had the amount of time we would need to sort through everything, Gwen?”

When indeed, she thought with a pensive hum. Between the both of them behind enemy lines on two different fronts and all of the fallout that has come since the liberation of Ala Mhigo, what time they had managed to steal away for themselves was scant at best, fleeting at worst. Not long enough to have an honest heart to heart conversation— let alone enough to recover from such a moment.

“We haven’t— I know we haven’t. Even now, we’re working on a schedule with little and less wiggle room. And I’m not saying that I’m upset that we haven’t, just that we should, and it just feels...I don’t know.” She blew her bangs out of her eyes, and when the stubborn lock sprang back in front of her she tucked it hastily behind her ear with her free hand. “I hate the place we’re stuck in right now.”

Thancred gave a grunt and nodded in agreement. Acknowledgement of their predicament made it too real for her in that moment, and she cut anchor and slipped her hand away from under his, away from him entirely and set herself adrift. It was difficult to define that place, where they weren’t okay enough to go on as before, thought it was not quite limbo because it was never a matter of if they could coexist as partners, but how they could do so comfortably and without this heavy, unspoken of weight in the air when they lingered in those quiet moments for too long.

Even now, as Thancred wondered at what he could say and took the time to choose his words, Gwen felt stifled by the oppressive pressure closing in around her, as if finally giving voice and acknowledging that it was there only made its presence worse. There was a lump in her throat now that made it difficult to swallow, and she couldn’t help but fidget with her hands, fingers idly plucking at the seams of her well worn leather gloves.

Say something, she wanted to plead impatiently, though bit the inside of her cheek to silence herself. It wouldn’t do to try and apply even more pressure when treading on such thin ice as this. Not to say she worried about him exploding in anger— far from it. No, what she worried about most in giving vent to her concerns was seeing him shut down again in the wake of them if she pushed before he was well and truly ready to talk.

“Much as I agree that we need to work through it all, it’s as you said: we’re on too tight a schedule to make that time now.” Thancred began with care. If she focused, she could hear him mentall weighing each word before uttering it. “Though I’m not too proud to admit that I still don’t know what to say.”

“Neither do I.” Gwen admitted, surprising him. “It feels like I haven’t even had the time to think about everything, let alone…”

Thancred hummed a laugh and reached across that distance that she felt a little less keenly in that moment to take both of her hands in his. She could only imagine that he was comfortable with it because of their privacy— normally, they refrained from physical affection when on duty or in public for want of professionalism. Maybe it was because they were alone for malms in the Fringes, or maybe it was because he’d felt they had more than earned this much unprofessionalism. If the latter, she was inclined to agree after all the hell they were put through.

“I’m not faring much better, for what it’s worth.”

“Still...we should be. Thinking about it, I mean.” After a moment of debate with herself— because while they were alone, they were also technically afield— she stepped close enough to press her forehead against his shoulder. “Would that we had the time…”

“Would that we had the time.” He parroted with a sigh. He leaned his head against hers, his temple gently bumping against her own. They reveled in their closeness, and like every other moment they had stolen away for themselves, they made that enough. “We don’t at the moment, but I agree that we should make the time. This meeting marks a milestone in the conflict— an important one. Important enough that everyone will need to regroup for the next step. And at the risk of cursing it: at its conclusion, the Scions will have a moment or two to breathe, I imagine.” He stepped away enough to look her in the eye while still grasping her hands with gentle insistence. “Let us make that time ours— gods know we’ve earned it.”

Gwen gave a hum of agreement with a nod.

She felt every taut muscle in her body slacken— it was no resolution, not by a long shot, but at least there was clear intent to find that resolution. That it would happen at all was a balm on her nerves. Of their own volition, her lips pulled into a soft, relieved smile. Thancred grinned at the sight of it.

“You’re already feeling better, then.” He said, though how he’d said it made it more of an observation than a question.

Despite herself, Gwen flushed. “Maybe a little. I’m glad that we’re on the same page.”

“Well, of course we are.” Thancred said with a sagely nod. Still holding her hands, he turned them over. “Have I not told you?”

“Told me?” She asked, even as she could guess at where this was leading.

With a tenderness normally saved for those stolen moments where it was only them— and really, couldn’t she technically count this one, too? — Thancred plucked at her gloves until he slid them off of her hands in one fluid motion. He tucked them temporarily in his belt and smoothed his thumbs over her open palms.

“Have I not made myself clear? I’ve made it a point to turn every page in your mind over and over until I memorized every part of you that I could.” He peered up at her through his lashes in that way that made the heat rise to her cheeks. “These hands are the well worn cover of my favorite book.”

He brought her hands up to his lips to press a single kiss to each palm and left little pinpricks of levin to arc through her veins until she felt her heart stutter from the shock.

“It’s been a while since we’ve had that sort of heart to heart.” Gwen croaked out reluctantly, damning herself for how easily they slipped back into such endearing familiarity in spite of everything. “I doubt I’m still the same person you remember— or that you remember me correctly.”

“Even if that’s the case,” Thancred reassured her, stepping close enough that they were nearly chest to chest. “I’m more than willing to learn anew— and this time, I’ll choose to cherish every page of your story.”

“And if the story isn’t to your liking?” She asked in spite of herself.

“Gwen.” He sighed and gently pressed their foreheads together. She felt him let go of her hands and hadn’t realized that her eyes had fluttered almost entirely shut until she felt the smoothed calluses of the pads of his thumbs stroking her cheekbones. Flustered more than she liked to admit, she kept her hooded gaze on the front of his coat. “I know much has happened, but do you trust me when I tell you that for all the change that has happened, you and I are still worth fighting for? That I want to fight for you and I, and I believe that we’re worth fighting for?”

“Yes.” She didn’t even have to use the time it took to draw the breath her answer carried to contemplate it. Even with all the uncertainty, the time and distance and horrors that had changed them both, that one truth was unshakable. She stepped back enough to meet his eye again, brushing his bangs away from his eyes. “Do you trust that I feel that, too?”

“Absolutely.” He nodded firmly, and leaned into her hand when she cupped his face. “Without question.”

The feeling in her chest was indescribable— not quite relief, per say, more because nothing was resolved, but something close to reassurance, because for all the change that had happened, they were still here.

“That’s...that’s good.” Gwen sighed, and she felt light despite her burdens. “We’d best be getting back. I’m sure the Alliance leaders are starting to arrive.”

Thancred nodded and let his hands fall back to his sides. A seemingly needless gesture; as they walked back to Duskfeather, his fingers lightly brushed hers with every alternate step he took. When she giggled and teasingly bumped his shoulder with hers, it felt almost like before when he let out a startled chuckle and nudged her back.

Riding back to the Ala Mhigan Quarter, feeling Thancred’s hands on her hips as she guided Duskfeather felt more solid than the ground they had left behind. When he leaned closer to point out that Alisaie was awaiting them not far from the predetermined meeting place, she felt a warmth blossom from the contact and closeness that she hadn’t been able to delight in for so long with him behind enemy lines and her running herself ragged between battlefields.

It was silly, coming the closest to giddy she’d felt in some time when Thancred hopped off Duskfeather’s back first and practically lifted her off as she dismounted. And yet, Gwen took a moment to feign righting herself from the landing to squeeze his shoulders a moment longer. He seemed to notice the subtle want for lingering contact, as his lips quirked in that roguish grin she adored briefly as he held her by the waist under the same pretense.

“Ready to head in?” He asked, an almost playful lilt to his words.

“Certainly not alone.”

“I’m with you, Gwen.” Thancred reassured her, and braced a hand on her back once they’d disentangled and made for the entry to the Ala Mhigan palace.

As they were waved through by the guard and resumed their respectful, professional distance, Gwen took immense comfort in the fact that he was here, and just this once she wasn’t made to face such a daunting task alone.

#Eremiss #writing commissions #Guinevere Ashe #Thancred Waters #Gwencred #thank you so much for commissioning me!!!#you were a delight to work with!!!

14 notes · View notes

definedwrath · 4 years

Text

uploading data … ⟳ 𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙿𝙻𝙴𝚃𝙴 !

* ; — welcome , WILL GRAHAM . a long way from hannibal ( series ) , huh ? hm … a thirty - nine year old forensic psychology professor who looks like HUGH DANCY — could be worse . i heard you were at THE LIGHTHOUSE when we un - glitched , & you ( had a mental breakdown ] . still the intelligent & ruthless type , that’s why [ golden glow of a pendulum’s swing , waves crashing against a shoreline , & blood looking black in the moonlight ]’s totally your vibe . the memory of FALLING OFF THE CLIFF WITH HANNIBAL is hazy , but maybe the ( foldable pocket knife & red feathered lure ) waiting for you at the pawn shop’ll bring clarity . + human , demi male [ he/him ] , bisexual .

tws : blood , abandonment , murder , death

BEGINNING — born william “ will ” graham in louisiana , poor . his father worked fixing boats , and his mother had left before she had curated any stable enough memories for him to grasp . he followed his father from place to place in louisiana before eventually moving to new orleans . in new orleans , he became a homicide detective for the police force , but he couldn't pull the trigger . he left new orleans to attend george washington university in forensic science and became a professor at the fbi academy . will has an empathy disorder , allowing him to empathise with anyone . burdened with too many mirror neurons and an extreme imagination ; through an exploration of the evidence as well as his empathic nature , this allows him to mentally place himself in the positions of serial killers . he was brought in by special agent jack crawford to hunt down a serial killer and met a well - known consulting psychologist , hannibal lecter . will goes to therapy with hannibal to ensure he has someone to pull him back from the dark places he’s thrust into , but what starts as something akin to friendship turns into acts of betrayal , murder , sacrifice and protection as both of them begin to manipulate each other . down the rabbit hole they both go , them both changing each other with will finding righteousness , justice , in wrath ; in doing bad things to bad people . eventually , it all comes to head when will and hannibal kill serial killer , francis dolarhyde , together . not in horror of the act , but in horror of the enjoyment of the action -- will pulls them both off a cliff .

MIDDLE — still , born william “ will ” graham . much of his childhood was the same , except no longer did he live in louisiana in his memories . he lived in the cloud for his whole life as he recalls . he became a professor at whitmore college , teaching forensic psychology . he's still fully aware of his empathy disorder and tries to remain distant , keeping a mental shield , in order to avoid seeing too much .

END — will doesn’t have any explicit memories . frankly , he’s trying to go through his life as per normal . the mental breakdown resulted from an influx of horrific images ( memories ) at the time . he had gotten memories of totem poles made out of people ; of men becoming cellos ; of a girl sobbing , bleeding from a cut carotid , as he shot a man dead . he doesn’t have the rest of his memories drawn out for him . he does have dreams about a kitchen bathed in blood , though ; himself , coated crimson , pouring , spilling . the sounds of waves crashing , crashing louder , in his ears . copper on his tongue as blood floods floor boards , but nothing substantial enough -- as if someone ripped up the floor boards and replaced the tile . steady hands holding his , holding a knife to his gut , taking a gun from him , a hand cupping his face . a man in a pristine suit , betrayal lined in his features . a man he betrayed , a man he changed . a man whose heart he took in his hands and squeezed , whose heart he broke , thinks about hurting and hurting . a freefall , no parachute . things blurring together , a different man with a stern voice , a dark - haired woman and pitying looks . a girl he couldn't save , and the ache of a parent who lost a child . eye contact . tastelessness .

SCRIBBLED IN THE MARGIN —

DESPERATE TO CONNECT ,

child(ren) ; whether adopted or ‘ biological ’ , i would love to have will adopt someone(s) ! it'd be cool to have a pretty big family , but will could also have an only child ! i just really want will to have the opportunity to be paternal .

hookup ; ( m/f/nb ) , someone he's hooked up with , mayhaps ? can either be a new thing , a past thing , a casual thing , or maybe one is starting to get some feelings . whether or not there’ emotions in it or just physical , maybe a hookup .

exes ; ( m/f/nb ) , whether it was amicable or bad , a relationship that could have been dating or something stronger in ties ... a marriage ? whether they just couldn't connect or another painful reason . ( i won't accept a cheating plot for this though ! ]

friends ; you don't stop having friends even as an adult ! give this poor man some friends , maybe people he went to school with and kept in touch with ? someone he knew from his childhood ? a neighbour who became a friend ?

co - workers ; people who work at the college with him , it’d be nice to have someone he can get along with while he’s not grading papers . whether it be a co - worker he’s close to or otherwise just met , any co - workers would be cool .

TAG DIRECTORY ,

i. alone in that darkness / abt. about . i. this is my design / beg. starters . i. if you can’t beat god / vis. visuals . i. like somebody else / ism. musings . i. this is my becoming / int. interactions . i. then i felt powerful / aes. aesthetics . i. scales have fallen away / sol. solos . i. use a good scream / ask. ask responses . i. what’s important in my life / dyn. family values . i. somebody you cherished / dyn. will graham & schrodinger’s daughter , abigail hobbs . i. you and i have begun to blur / dyn. the conscious loss of one’s self for another , will graham & hannibal lecter .

#cloud:intro #i. alone in that darkness / abt.#i. this is my design / beg.#i. if you can’t beat god / vis.#i. like somebody else / ism.#i. this is my becoming / int.#i. then i felt powerful / aes.#i. scales have fallen away / sol.#i. use a good scream / ask.#i. what’s important in my life / dyn.#i. somebody you cherished / dyn.#i. you and i have begun to blur / dyn.#tags.

7 notes · View notes

virareve · 4 years

Link

While languishing over the fic exchange, I recently noticed that some of the first few times I shared some drabbles/one shots I posted from a collection of short J/B writings I’ve put up on AO3, I was just sharing a link to the main work and not the specific chapter. I wanted to reshare some of the ones I was most proud of/cared about the most that I didn’t properly link to previously.

For anyone who prefers, I’m posting the text to the chapter below as well. :)

Summary: Unsent Letters from Kingsguard's Lord Commander Jaime Lannister are leaked to the press.

King's Landing Chronicles, Issue 1011

Excerpt from page 2:

Love Letters from the Lord Commander By Pia Waters

Once thought the coldest, cruelest man in the Six Kingdoms, unsent letters from the head of the royal Kingsguard’s Lord Commander shed light into the enigma that is Jaime Lannister, and reveal that he is not so much a mystery as he is a man with his own inner turmoils and a love long gone.

Content leads royal experts to believe that the letters were penned sometime after he was reinstated to the Kingsguard, following the execution of Dowager Queen Cersei, his sister, for plots against the crown. (This was the last time state sanctioned capital punishment was permitted before 'Ned's Law' was enacted and banned capital punishment throughout the six kingdoms.) Readers will also notice the subject of the letters does not appear to be the late Queen, his alleged lover for most of his career. Many are surprised by the emotional depth thought nonexistent in the man the press popularly dubbed the Kingslayer but King Tommen and the newly coronated Queen…( Cont. on Pages 5-7 )

- - -

King's Landing Chronicles, Issue 1011

Excerpt from page 7, The Last Letter:

What is more beautiful, my love? Love lost or love found? Don't laugh at me, my love. I know it. I'm awkward and naive when it comes to love. I ask questions straight out of a pop song. This doubt overwhelms me and undermines me, my love. To find...or to lose? All around me, people don't stop yearning. Did they lose or did they find? I can't say. A motherless child, who is raised by a heartless father, has no way of knowing. He lacks a first love. The love for his mother and father. That's the source of his awkwardness, his naiveté. You said to me, as the snow whirled down on us in Winterfell, "Stay." But I didn't do it. There, my love, is love lost. That's why I've never stopped wondering, since that day: Where have you been? Where are you now? And you, the shining pinnacle of my regrets, did you lose or did you find? I don't know. And I will never know. It hurts to even remember your name, my love. And I don't have the answer. But this is how I like to imagine it, the answer. In the end, my love, we have no choice. We have to find.

- - -

Brienne dropped the paper, swiping at the tears in her eyes.

“Oh Jaime,” she sighed, feelings of nostalgia bubbled in her. Now that so much time had passed, it no longer hurt to think of him. And her mind could only think of him now. Jaime with his part-time irksome, part-time cheeky smile. And his mischievous green eyes. Or his gazelle-like gait. Or the way he smiled and she felt like it was just for her.

It was nice to feel like that.

It was nice to feel warm at the memory of Jaime and not angry at herself for remembering him.

She traced the text on the glossy paper of King's Landing Chronicles. Sansa had mailed it in from the mainland with the insistence that she read it.

When Brienne and Jaime had stopped seeing each other nearly eleven years ago she'd been heartbroken and distraught. The memories in Winterfell had quickly proven too much and she left her new home for her old one. It was a comforting choice in the end. There was something welcoming that she felt on Tarth that she had not felt before. Something that perhaps the change she sought inside of her, and had experienced on the mainland, allowed for as she sought to build a life of her own.

Over a decade since, and she felt calm in knowing she’d met that goal. That her life in smalltown Morne was something that existed without ghosts of her dead mother and siblings and memories of a man she expected would never enter her life again.

Unburdened, she sat comfortably at the dining table her father had carved for her and her family. The laughs from her children, young and precocious and so full of love, teased into the house through the open windows. They were accompanied by the squeaks of skin against water and thick plastic as her children went through the slip-n-slide she’d made for them, over and over again.

Oh, how she loved Gal and Alys.

The choice to embrace motherhood and start a family after she’d given up on ever finding love again, had been easily the most rewarding thing in her life. It was something she had wanted as much as she wanted to fall in love. Raising her two had been a balm for so many internalized wounds, and the pain that used to flare constantly became forgotten and relegated to a dusty corner of her memories.

And yet to know that she’d still been on his mind brought a sharp relief to know that Brienne of yesteryears had not been a fool. She’d been in love and had been loved. None of that could be called a mistake.

Learning what had been in his mind, she could say, too, that the end was not her fault. Here was physical evidence to put her fears at bay and tell herself “Look, you are whole! It was him who was broken!”

But it sounded rather cracked and jaded and Brienne wasn’t feeling cracked and jaded herself. She had loved him and he had loved her.

Not all who loved were allowed to be together. It was the theme of her own parents’ tragically short love story and she would be remiss to think it could never apply to her. As sad as likening her story to her mother and father's was, she could also find the evidence she needed to point out to herself that what had existed in those brief months was a love story.

It had to have been. Because once he’d left, Brienne had never wanted to love another man again. The ending might have been harsh, but the rest of it was a fairytale. No one could ever know her, ever understand her, as well as he had. She had been prepared to never be loved in life and now that she had experienced a love to end all loves, she didn’t ever want to fill in the gap with a poor replacement.

She no longer felt like she needed to.

Brienne shook her head and stood up from the table, brushing her fingers gently over Jaime’s words one more time.

“Love bugs!” she called out, making her way down the back porch, pulling off her own clothes to reveal her own swimsuit underneath, “Wanna learn a trick you didn’t know Mommy could do?”

She jogged slowly past them in the direction of the nearby cove.

“Yeah!” they screamed joyfully.

They took off as fast as their much smaller legs could take them and crashed into her sides, each grasping for one of her hands. Alys was quick to intertwine her long, nimble fingers with her mother’s left, while Gal was clumsily forceful as he wrapped both his hands around her right in an airtight clasp.

Leading the children on, Brienne brought them to a short cliff overlooking the cove and kneeled before them, “Now we’re only ever going to do this with Mommy’s permission and an adult with you okay?”

The two of them nodded vigorously, enthusiastic at the prospect of whatever she was going to show them.

“Alright,” Brienne grinned, standing up and letting go of their hands. “Watch me and do what I do.”

Putting a good distance between her and the cliff's edge, Brienne squatted down into a runners position and quickly pressed off against the earth with a mighty push, speeding towards the edge. On reaching it, she pushed off with all her might and yelled into the air with a freeness she rarely allowed herself.

“Goldenhand!” she screamed, like a knight invoking the legends beside her into battle.

She’d forgotten what it was like to freefall in exposed air, exhilarating and a little bit terrifying all at once. But the air was warm and her hair experienced its own descent as gravity pulled her down and she couldn't help the want to yell again. So she did.

The ocean welcomed her lovingly when she breached the surface and for a moment, Brienne thought of Jaime, taking her just outside of Casterly Rock, encouraging her to take the leap.

Above the children cheered when she surfaced, then swam backwards to put space between her and the bottom of the cliff.

“Your turn!” she yelled, cupping her hands to her face.

Gal and Alys looked at each other. They grinned and moved away from view.

With them out of sight, Brienne briefly allowed her eyes to close, lapsing into that memory of Jaime, sunkissed and smirking as he pulled her after him into the water. His bright, light laugh as she screamed bloody murder and he yelled out “Goldenhand!” like it was the normal battle cry for this sort of event.

“Goldenhand!” the children screamed out in delight and she opened her eyes to watch Gal and Alys catch air. Of course, without her there, they’d decided to jump in holding tightly to each other’s hands.

Brienne couldn’t stop the love that overwhelmed her heart.

Their identical faces were lit with joy. Their golden hair fluttered in the Tarth wind.

When they surfaced, they paddled over to her, trying to talk over the other in their battle to hold all her attention. Their emerald green eyes glittered with impish glee.

#jaime x brienne #braime #my fic

4 notes · View notes

scholar-thief · 4 years

Photo

[ RP LOG ]

Momori threatens Gwannes. Then they enjoy some...five hour energy.

Momori is seemingly asleep in the tall grass. She’s surrounded by several books, some open, some not. One is currently being used as a makeshift pillow. However, on closer examination, you would notice that her breath is shallow. Dehydration, perhaps? Sun exhaustion? Or maybe that’s just how she sleeps.

Gwannes | There's a grunt, a man's, that originates from somewhere near Momori. It's sudden, disrupting relatively peaceful sounds of distant fauna and rushing wind. "Nn-- Auckgh-- Nn--!" There's a scraping sound, like steel against flat stone that repeats a few times, then goes silent again.

(Momori) gwannes flying /below/ the islands like a proper suspicious fellow (Gwannes) phasing through the floor like a real shady fella (Momori) ????? is he ok?????? omg hahah (Momori) clipping into an object and taking damage from physics engine going haywire (Gwannes) source engine collision noise

Momori wakes up immediately, and assumes a defensive stance, daggers drawn. Her book pillow momentarily sticks to her face, and peels off slowly. “Who’s there?!” She looks around, trying to pinpoint the source of the strange sound.

Gwannes | There's more grunts, then more silence, and this on-off pattern alternates for another short moment before there's actual movement near Momori. More specifically, an arm shoots up from beneath the edge of the floating island, a hand clawing its fingers into a depression in the rock. Attached to the arm was... a hyur, whom pulled himself up by said arm, quickly joining it with another then pulling himself up onto the ground in his entirety, rolling onto his back. "Ggh--"

Momori - With each iteration of grunts and silence, she grows increasingly cautious. By the time an arm appears from the edge of the island, she’s ready. To kill. Thankfully, her throwing knife goes whizzing over the thing that's crawling onto land like some beached seal. Face blank, she watches.

Momori: “.........................excuse me? Excuse me.”

Momori checks for pulse.

Gwannes seems winded to the point that he doesn't even register Momori's throwing knife, let alone her presence. The man halfway looks like a corpse already: From his arms to his neck to his face, the man's hide is positively covered in scars and blemishes, only capped off when he raises his head, turning to face Momori, a single eye darting to look at her. "...Uh." The man sat up, at that, blinking. "..."

Momori gets a good look at the ‘corpse.’ Bald head. Eyepatch. Though scruffy beyond belief, there’s no denying it. This thing is called ‘Gwannes.’ She narrows her eyes as the man looks to her. Suspicious.

Momori: “Care to explain yourself?”

Gwannes blinked, staring at Momori for a moment. "..." The man glanced around past Momori, then back over his shoulder at the edge of the island. "Explain what?"

Momori: “Why you were crawling up the edge of the island.” She crosses her arms.

Gwannes stares at Momori.

Gwannes looks back over his shoulder at the edge.

Gwannes looks back to Momori.

Gwannes: I had to get up.

Momori: “........................”

Momori uncrosses her arms. Twists her fingers together and stretches them, outwards. She grabs Gwanne’s right heel and menacingly pulls the man with surprising strength towards the edge once more.

Momori: “You shall tell me or you shall have a good trip in the lifestream.” She’s straining somewhat at the effort of dragging Gwannes along.

Gwannes offers... not much resistance to this, laying back and letting Momori drag him closer to the edge with little more than a token wriggling and a faint "C'mon, man..."

Gwannes closes his eye, sighing. "I hate the fucking lifesteam."

Gwannes idly swings his head backwards, gently hitting the back of his skull against the ground.

(Momori) its like when you drag a rake behind you (Momori) and it's bouncing around hitting every stray rock + pebble (Gwannes) yes

Momori: “I hear it isn’t so bad during the winter moons,” she says, as she lets go of the man’s ankle. With his body positioned close to the edge, she places her heel on his shoulder. A strong push could roll the man straight back into freefall.

Momori: “Last chance, Baldy.”

Gwannes tenses his shoulders for a moment, then places a palm against the ground and quickly rises back to a sitting position. He slips out from under Momori's heel with all the elusiveness of an earthworm. In spite of getting out from under her, he only does so to move /closer/ to the edge, scooting forward and draping the both of his legs off of the edge. "I'm tired."

Momori makes a sour face, but lets Gwannes do as he wishes. Killing a follower was a one way ticket to being kicked out of the whole expedition, and she couldn’t have that. At least, not yet. But by the gods, she was curious about why the man was ‘rock climbing’, and she hated to have the possibility of answers dangled in front of her face.

Momori: “If you’re tired, go take a nap. Or take one of these.” She pulls a small packet from her sleeve. It’s semi-transparent, and contains some red goo inside of it.

(Momori) eorzean five hour energy. gel form. (Gwannes) Momoris ultimate plan to give gwannes oskwell a pair of cement shoes

Gwannes stared down at Momori's hand. "Candy?"

Momori: “Haha. Sure!” She doesn’t say anymore. Places the questionable packet in Gwanne’s hand.

Gwannes looks to be completely willing to immediately consume someone who was threatening to murder him less than 120 seconds ago. He places the packet in his mouth and bites down on it, then swallows the entire deal.

(Momori) momori will remember this (Momori) gwannes dont take candy from suspicious lalafell!!! (Gwannes) i want Momori to grant my greatest wish and poison me to death

Momori - It all happens so fast that she doesn’t have time to tell him, no, you don’t eat the packaging. She grimaces slightly as Gwannes downs it all....but that doesn’t stop her from offering him another. “You look like you enjoyed that. Have one more.”

Gwannes blinked. "Oh, I-- I shouldn't. I don't know how strong they are."

Momori: “As long as your will is stronger, you are safe.” She covertly plants the offered energy gel into anything that resembles a pocket on Gwanne’s person. “Still tired?”

(Momori) haha wait since this is eorzea (Momori) it'd be five bell energy (Gwannes) drink drink five hour energy its not a drink more like a drink

Gwannes glanced back at Momori, at that. "Oh, well, my will isn't stronger than anything, really. We'll see, I guess." His legs, hanging out over the abyss, swung back and forth idly. "So do you normally threaten to push people off of cliffs while you're not working?"

Momori: “Well, do you normally begin a conversational encounter by pulling yourself up from the edge of a sheer drop?” She raises a brow slightly as she leans against the stalk of one of the dandelion trees.

Gwannes: I didn't know anyone was out this far.

Gwannes: Most people are sticking closer to the camp.

Momori: “For good reason. Though these places are good for a little peace and quiet.” She pauses. “And for studying the Zundu.”

Momori: “The rotund birdmen here are. Acceptably friendly. For birds.”

Gwannes presses his thumb against the backs of his knuckles, stretching his fingers. "You say that like there's a reasonable expectation. A-- Bunch of people from half a continent away come in their airship and start incessantly probing into your territory, how'd you react? There's certainly folk out here that would take a whole lot less kindly to our presence. Like the Vundu."

Gwannes paused. "Well, your presence, maybe. They know me. At least a little."

Momori holds her tongue. In Ul’dah, beastmen were, generally speaking, treated with contempt. A side note to be swept aside. Add to the fact that she simply hates birds of any form, and well...She wants to say that they don’t owe the Vanu Vanu anything, courtesy included. But she doesn’t say that.

Momori: “I. Suppose they are being reasonable, given the situation.”

Gwannes clears his throat. "Yeah, they are." His heels knock against the rock face behind them. "There are far worse places to be, as far as beastman territory. You should see some of the things that go on with the caravans that are unfortunate enough to have to cross through the Xephatoli borderlands."

Momori: “I have only heard stories.” She sits down, back against the base of the dandelion stalk. “Banditry. Vengeance. Greed. Violence. Blind belief. Such qualities are not limited to the beastfolk.”

Momori‘s gaze hardens as she lets her thoughts stew in her mind. She lets out a quiet huff, and shakes her head. “So, Gwannes. Why are /you/ with the expedition?”

Gwannes cleared his throat. "I'm not with the expedition. I'm just here temporarily."

Gwannes: I was already caught up with the Rovers before I came across anyone from this whole... group.

Momori: “Oh. You have your own beef with the Rovers then.” She shrugs. “Welcome to the club.”

Gwannes: Not like that, but--...

Gwannes: ...I wanted just to talk to Nate and then get out of here with my wife, seeing as he owes me a favor, but-- now he's indisposed, I've been told.

Momori: “He’s not exactly in the mood to talk nowadays.” She gets up and gives Gwannes and odd look. “But why not just leave with your wife then? He won’t stop you.”

Gwannes: 'Cause he owes me something.

Gwannes: It's by my own choice that I'm-- I'm stayin', not his.

Gwannes: That, and I'd like to be there when the Rovers--

Gwannes: Well, you know.

Momori figures that whatever Gwannes is asking for is immaterial. A favor that only the Father can provide. Something that cannot simply be taken.

Momori: “Yeah. When the Rovers bite the dust.” She pats herself off. “Well, see you around Gwannes. Good luck in whatever it is you’re trying to get out of Nate.”

Gwannes stands, at that. "Heading out, then--?" He nods to Momori. "Alright. See you around, yeah? Just be careful out this far. Vundu still send out patrols, sometimes. Wayward search parties, that sort of thing..." He pauses. "Anyway, I'll see you around." At that, he immediately... turns on his heel, then takes a step forward off of the edge of the cliff. He's gone.

Momori just. Accepts what is happening in front of her. So many strange folks, so little time. She has a feeling she'll see him again, crawling up from some ledge like a monster of the deep. Farewell...for now.

(Momori) wauw (Momori) what an exit (Gwannes) distant cartoon splat noise (Momori) splort (Momori) does he like. live under the islands like a bat?? so many questions

#momori mori #Gwannes Oskwell #ff14 rp logs #heartless AU

3 notes · View notes

platonicone · 4 years

Text

Devotion - Story of the Oracle and her Shield

Since Luna is looking into Squall's past, her thoughts will be presented like [this in square brackets.]

Chapter 24 - Since the dawn of time

Would it be any different this time? I wonder…

Luna felt like the world around her was distorting and swirling uncontrollably. All the spinning came to a stop as everything around her became a blend shade of gray. She looked around and everything seemed gray and devoid of any light.

[Am I seeing things through his eyes?]

As far as his eyes could see, he saw nothing by emptiness. Dark voids swirling all around him. His legs can barely carry the weight of his own body, yet he walks. He walks till he reached the edge of the cliff and all he can see below was endless void. He was stranded on a floating rock with nothing but darkness around him. With nowhere to go and no one to call, he finally understood the gravity of his reality. This was it. He was lost is a time-compressed world with no way back home. He did not know how many days, months or years it had been since he got here. For him, there was no past, no present and certainly no future. As a soldier, he knew that he was always dancing with the grim reaper, but when facing the concept of his own demise, he realized that he was not ready for it.

His legs finally gave out, and he collapsed on the floor. The world around him was devoid of any light, just gray haze swirling around eternally. It was as if the atmosphere around him was a reflection of his own self; devoid of any hope and light. He might have saved the world, but in the end, he couldn’t save himself; such is the fate of a hero. With his head hung low and spirit even lower, he let out one last howl. All he heard in response was a wailing of his own voice, echoing back. His eyes were getting heavy and his breathing was shallow and erratic. He felt like his consciousness was slowly drifting away from him. He was giving up.

He always thought that his last breath would be on a battlefield, yet here he was fighting against only demons from within. There were many who loved and celebrated him, yet here he was all alone. His whole life he fought like a lion, yet here he was tamed and defeated by fate. As if watching an old movie, his life started flashing in front of his own eyes one by one. The people he loved, things he cherished, his hopes and dreams; it was all about to become history. A single tear rolled down his left cheek as his life was about to become a fragment of a lost memory. His head fell back, and he was ready to collapse on the ground, silently awaiting his fate as his consciousness was shutting down.

Suddenly, something caught his eyes. It was a vivid blue petal swinging back and forth in a swirling haze of gray slowing drifting towards him.

[Is that Sylleblossom petal?]

He extended his hand as the vivid blue petal slowly floated towards him and gently landed on his open palm. Upon inspecting it from close proximity, he realized that it was a petal from a flower the likes of which he had never seen. He closed his fist to make sure it does not fly away from him. He momentarily closed his eyes, trying to make sense of all this. Suddenly, he heard a dog barking. His eyes immediately shot open and saw a dark-colored spitz-type dog with glowing yellow eyes staring right at him.

[Umbra!]

The dog was wearing a green rope around his neck and front legs and was carrying a small diary. Squall tilted his head curiously looking at this canine. The dog barked twice and shot past Squall with amazing speed. It stopped right at the edge of the cliff. The dog turned its head around and barked at Squall as if coaxing him to come closer.

Still dazed, Squall was trying to figure out if any of this was actually happening or was this all just part of his imagination. Before he could think any further, the dog bark at him one more time and then jumped off the edge of the cliff. Squall stretched out a hand as if to stop it, but even before Squall could react, the dog had disappeared into the void below completely out of his sight.

He pulled himself to the edge of the cliff trying to contemplate what was going on. First, there was a petal and now a dog. As if on cue, the petal in his hand started glowing. He opened his fist, and the petal flew out of his hand and slowly drifted in the same direction the dog went. Eventually, that too disappeared in the haze below the cliff.

‘Should I follow it? Is this petal trying to show me the way?’

He looked around at his surroundings once more and everything was still very grim. As far as eyes can see, it was an endless swirl of gray haze with no sign of life around.

‘If I stay here, I am going to die anyway, so might as well take a leap of faith and see where it leads.’

He took a deep breath and jumped off the cliff in the same direction where that dog and a blue petal had gone. He was in a freefall and soon everything became a blur.

The next thing he remembers was lying on the soft ground and trying to open his eyes. He briefly opened his eyes and was suddenly blinded by the intensity of the light. He immediately closed his eyes shut. After a second or two, he slowly tried to open his eyes again, this time giving time for his eyes to adjust to the pouring light. He looked at the clear blue sky and a glowing sun radiating in it. He sat up and looked around and much to his awe he was surrounded by blue flowers, same as the petal he had found earlier.

[This is my Gardens at Fenestala Manor. What is going on here?]

He was curiously marveling at the beauty of the flowers around him when he heard a distant bark. He immediately got up on his feet and tried to follow the direction of that sound. He had barely taken a few steps when he noticed that same dark-colored dog. Once their eyes met, the dog barked at him and turned around and started walking. Squall followed the dog. After taking a few steps, Squall stopped in his track.

‘The last thing I remember was jumping off from that cliff. Now I am here in the middle of this serene blue flowerbed.’ He looked around and absorbed the surrounding beauty.

‘It is very quiet and peaceful. Is this heaven? Am I dead?’ He wondered scratching his head.

‘I have never died before, so I don’t really know what happens after death. Does everyone find flowerbed and a weird dog at their end? If this is heaven, then I am very disappointed,’ he thought with a scowl on his face.

[Luna couldn’t help but giggle hearing Leon’s thoughts.]

As if to break him from his trance, the dog barked once more, drawing his attention.

‘If I am conscious to ask all these questions, then I must be alive,’ he concluded with a shrug.

‘How am I alive, though, that is a mystery?’ he continued thinking while following the dog down its track.

After a while, the dog stopped and sat down next to someone. Squall’s eyes followed the stranger next to the dog.

She was of fair skin with black hair. She wore a black gown with white wraps on her sleeves that flow down into a tail-like clothing. She adorned black thigh-high open-toed stiletto-heeled boots and her nails were painted in a dark metallic hue. “You came,” she said, with her eyes closed.

“I have been waiting for you for a very long time, Squall. It is good to finally see you again,” she spoke with a faint smile, while her eyes still remained closed.

“Who are you and how do you know my name?” Squall wondered aloud.

“Forgive me, perhaps I should have properly reintroduced myself.” She finally opened her eyes. “I am known as Gentiana.”

“Gentiana?” he asked, with one eyebrow slightly raised, noticing her olive-green eyes.

Understanding Squall’s confusion, she clarified, “Perhaps you would rather recognize me with my Astral name, Shiva.”

“Shiva,” his eyes widened as he said the name. “But Shiva is a Guardian Force.”

“Being like us are known by various names across realms. Guardian force, Summon, Eidolon, Esper, Aeon, Avatar, Primal; they are all our names. In this land, we are known as Astral. We are in charge of protecting the realm we serve.” “Where am I here?” he asked, looking around.

“It seems that fate has brought you back to the world of Eos. Unfortunately, this planet is dying. It will soon become a place where no hope or dreams can survive. The providence states that only the Oracle and the True King can overturn such a fate.” She explained.

‘That is none of my business. Just tell me how do I get back home,’ Squall thought dryly.

“The Oracle has embarked on a perilous journey, the one she might not survive alone. If she falls, all hope for this world will be lost. You are to be her champion and protect her.” She took a short break before continuing, “If you can safeguard her in the trials of Six Astrals then I shall grant you the passage back to your world.”

“So, her safety in her trials for my return home? Sounds like a simple mission,” he said confidently.

Gentiana chuckled. “That is over-simplifying things."

‘Whatever.’

Gentiana closed her eyes and spoke with a tinge of concern in her voice. “You do not understand the gravity of your undertaking,” she states, slightly shaking her head. “To survive these trials, you would have to be her sword and shield. She may be a beacon of light to many, but you must guide her in her hour of darkness. When she falters, you must be her strength. For in her success lies your own and of this world.”

‘No pressure at all,’ retorted his mind.

“You must go now, the champion of the Oracle. I can sense the lady is in grave danger,” she claimed, her eyes were still close.

“Wait! I still have many questions,” Squall protested.

“Time is of the essence,” she said, in a cold voice. “Umbra, take him there,” she instructed.

“At least tell me who she is. Who am I supposed to protect?” he pleaded.

Before Squall could say anything else, Umbra’s time-warping magic engulfed him.

Everything around him started to swirl and contort. Squall felt as if he was in a freefall. Everything around him started to whiz past him until it all became a blur.

Next thing he saw a giant Titan hurling a boulder towards someone. He saw a petite figure erecting a shield to prevent the direct impact of the boulder. Titan slammed his fist close to her sending her flying.

‘That idiot is going to get herself killed.’ He thought before rushing to her aid.

Everything started distorting and swirling again for Luna. The next image to stabilize was of Lestallum.

She saw Leon’s struggles during the time she was asleep. She saw him skipping meals to save money to pay for her bills. She saw him carry her across the town with a broken arm. She saw him talking to her and taking care of her. She saw everything she was unable to see before.

She was losing her battle against tears after seeing everything Leon did for her.

Once again, everything started to distort and swirl. The next image to stabilize was of Taelpar Rest Area.

Luna pulled the car in the parking lot of the Taelpar Rest Area. Leon grabbed a few things he had to deliver from the trunk and disappeared from sight while Luna filled up the gas.

After finishing his chores Leon was walking back towards the car when he heard an elderly voice coming from the sidewalk, “Hello young man, would you like to buy something from this old lady?”

Leon glanced in the direction of the voice to notice an old lady with a dark complexion and a light patch around her right eye. She sat along the footpath with all her books spared on a small cloth. Without browsing her wares, he said, “I am sorry, I am not interested.”

“I have some of the rarest books you will ever find,” she tried to entice him as he was about to leave. He was not a particular fan of books, but Luna was, so he decided to browse the books she was selling. “Show me what you got.”

“Ah a book reader, are you?” she asked.

“I am not, but my friend is,” he revealed, scanning all the books on offer.

“They call me Stiria,” she introduced herself.

[Stiria? I know that name.]

“Squall,” he introduced himself.

“What a unique name you have,” she complimented, to which he nodded in response. “What kind of books does your friend like?”

“Fantasy, adventure, and romance I guess,” he said, trying to recollect what Luna had said earlier.

“Then how about this book? Durai Papers by Orran Durai? It's quite a tale of faith, power, and betrayal.”

“No,” he said, disinterested.

“If you are looking for something more romantic, then I’d recommend LOVELESS,” she offered.

“Nah,” he looked at the cover page and chose to keep looking.

“Might I interest you in, ‘The Song of the Savior?’” she offered again.

He shook his head and continued to browse. Nothing caught his eyes, so he decided to walk away.

“Wait, how about this?” she picked up a book buried under the pile of other books.

“No, I am not interested,” he replied, even without turning.

“Not interested even in Wishing Upon A Star?” she asked in her shaky voice. He froze in his steps when he heard that. He quickly turned around and went back to her. He looked at the cover and it was indeed that rare book he had heard from Luna.

“This is the only remaining copy of this book,” she offered her book so Squall could see it up close.

He examined the cover, and it was indeed ‘Wishing Upon A Star.’ “How much for this?” he asked eagerly, still not believing his eyes.

“I can sell it to you for 1,370,000 Gil.”

“Woah! That’s an absurd amount of money for a book.”

“This is a bargain, I tell you. On the black-market, this would fetch a lot more.”

“I don’t have that kind of money,” he admitted, shaking his head.

“How much can you afford for this?” she asked.

Leon emptied his wallet and his pockets to gather all the cash he had on him. He counted everything, and it added up to 41,269 gils. Accounting for their upcoming journey and its associated expenses, he proposed, “I can offer you 25,000 gil at the most.”

“Dear, that won’t do. This book is worth far more than that. I can’t do it for that price,” she asserted, gently taking the book back from his hand.

Leon knew he had nothing more to offer, yet his feet refused to move.

After one minute, Leon was still standing there, contemplating what else he can offer for it. “Besides money is there anything else I can do for you to make up for this price of this book?”

“I am an old lady with simple needs. All I need is some money to live out the rest of my days in comfort.”

Leon was disappointed to hear that. He was hoping that maybe he could help her out with a quest or some errands to make up for the cost of the book.

Even though Luna would have loved to have this book, he knew he couldn’t afford it. He had to go now.

He turned around and started walking away with a heavy heart. He had only taken a few steps when he heard Stiria say, “Perhaps there is one thing we can trade.”

This was music to his ears. With a spring in his steps, he rushed back to her. “What can I offer you?” he asked eagerly.

“I noticed that pendant of yours. Is that Griever? The avatar of the God of death?” she asked curiously.

“Yes, you know of him?” he was surprised that she recognized it.

“Yes, the legend says that the Maker created Eos, the Goddess of life, and Hyne, the God of death. Eos gives life to all creatures on the planet, while Hyne harvests their soul at the end of their mortal life and returns it to Eos. Together they were to maintain the equilibrium of this and many other worlds. Their harmony soon blossomed into love unlike any other. Their love was pure, but tragic. They were like day and night. Neither complete without the other, yet they can never be together. They were destined to be apart yet it didn’t stop them from loving each other.” She took a brief pause as if recollecting the details before continuing.

“But there was another. The God of war, Bahamut, a close friend of Hyne who also loved goddess Eos, but she had eyes only for Hyne. The God of War got jealous and out of spite he secretly corrupted humanity with vices like ego, stubbornness, jealousy, anger, lust, and greed. Humanity, now intoxicated by these vices, started destroying the planet for their selfish gain. Eos loved humans, so to see her children getting corrupted broke her heart. Hyne felt Eos’s pain and decided to erase corrupted humanity so Eos could create life anew. Being opportune as always, Bahamut instigated humanity to fight back against Hyne and provided them with magic and technology to do so. Hyne was the God of death, he would not be defeated so easily. He was fierce as a lion on the battlefield, but the constant war was wearing him down. It was only a matter of time before Hyne would fall against humanity, secretly backed by the God of War himself. However, the true victim of all this was Eos, as she had to witness a war between the one she loved and the one she created. She realized that the only death of humanity or Hyne would end this war,” Stiria paused once again. Leon was really intrigued by this story wanted to know more.

“The ever-opportunistic Bahamut approached Eos and offered to put an end to this war in exchange for her love. It was his time to be her knight in shining armor, or so he thought. Eos was appalled by the very idea of loving another and rejected him. Enraged from this, Bahamut devised a cunning plan to kill Hyne. Bahamut joined Hyne as an ally in the battle of Pitioss. Shiva, a faithful friend of Eos, had learned of Bahamut’s plan and tipped her off. Eos rushed to the battlefield along with Shiva to save Hyne. Unbeknownst to anything, a battle-weary Hyne was surprised to see Eos there. A momentary vulnerability was all Bahamut needed to plunge his sword in the back of Hyne. But he did not stop there. Bahamut conjures his many swords and was about to strike him down Hyne as Eos begged him to stop it. Eos finally gave in and said that she loved Bahamut, hoping that he would spare Hyne. Those words hurt Hyne more than any weapon could ever. Bahamut was merciless. His many swords plunged into Hyne’s body from the back as Hyne bellowed in pain. Hyne died thinking his love had betrayed him. Eos screamed in agony as Bahamut swords severed Hyne’s body in half. He tossed half of Hyne’s body to humanity who had served him so well in his grand scheme. Humans would learn to harness Hyne’s powers by means of sorceresses. He then tossed the remaining body to wailing Eos,” Stiria narrated.

“Eos cradled the remains of Hyne's body and tried to revive her fallen lover, but it was too late. By splitting Hyne’s body into two, Bahamut had fragmented his essence as well. To preserve the remains of Hyne, Eos congregated his remaining essence into a pendant and a ring. That pendant and the ring would go on to be known as Griever: a symbol of the grieving hearts of Hyne and Eos. Thundering laughter echoed through the atmosphere as Bahamut rejoiced his victory in conquering his lover. With fury in her eyes, Eos proclaimed that she would never be his. She claimed her life by her own trident, which will later be known as the Trident of the Oracle. Her essence was concentrated into the crystal, the soul of this planet. Her mortal body became one with the planet as she too died grieving for her lover. Hyne died thinking that he was betrayed by his love and Eos blamed herself for his death. Ironically, the only remains of their love were the pain and grief left behind in the form of Griever,” Stiria concluded.

“Fascinating tale. Although the story I’ve been told of Hyne is slightly different,” Leon said, recollecting the legend he had heard in his world.

“In war, the victor gets to dictate the history. Survivors write the history, not the dead,” she pointed.

“True. I always thought Bahamut was a good guy. This story paints him in a completely different light. It makes sense that he would spread the false narrative of the events,” he said, looking at her.

“Seeing his love die in front of his eyes, Bahamut had a change of heart. Ever since that day, the Six have been protecting this planet with Bahamut personally looking after the Crystal and her Trident. Is he protecting this world out of his love for Eos or out of fear of retaliation from Eos and Hyne? Only Bahamut knows that.”

“Fear of retaliation? But both Eos and Hyne are dead,” he pointed.

“The legend says that Eos and Hyne will be reincarnated over and over again until they can finally be together. Throughout centuries, across many realms, they have been reincarnated as Cloud and Aerith, Tidus and Yuna, Ashe and Rasler, Serah and Noel, Stella and Noctis, and many more, but their story always ends in heartbreak. Every time one is left grieving the death of the other. It is said that the Eos and Hyne walk among us even now, still searching for their happy ending.”

“Fascinating,” was all Squall could say.

“Now are you interested in this trade?” she asked, picking up the book again.

“I had honestly forgotten all about it,” he admitted sheepishly.

“That’s all right. I would give you this rare book if you can give me the pendant and the ring,” she offered. “Surely, that can’t be the real thing. It must be a replica,” she added to convince him.

After seriously contemplating Leon finally replied, “This pendant and the ring means a lot to me. This is a symbol of my past and who I am now. I won’t trade it for anything in the world.”

“I understand. In that case, I am afraid that you have nothing of value to me,” she said, putting down the book.

With a disappointment evident on his face, Leon slowly walked away from her.

With every step he took a pang of unknown guilt stabbed at his heart. Luna’s words played in his head.

“What would you do if somehow someone gave you that last copy of that book?”

“I would enamor them. You have no idea how much this book means to me. It's more than just a book to me. It represents the bond between my mother and me. To hold that book once again in my hand would mean the world to me.”

His feet stopped moving as that memory resurfaced.

‘Leon, what are you doing? This is one thing that represents Luna’s bond with her mother. How can you just walk away like that?’ spoke his heart.

‘Get her that book at the cost of my Griever? No way.’ Fought back his mind.

‘It’s a trinket which has no meaning or any practical value. It is important to you because you made it so. Do you know how happy she will be to receive this book?’ Argued his heart.

‘This is the only thing I have from my past.’ Rationalized his mind.

‘But she is your future. Are you willing to let go of your future because you cannot let go of your past?’

‘It’s not that simple.’

‘Happiness does not come without sacrifice. Luna has sacrificed her happiness over and over again so the world can be a better place. You claim to love her and yet hesitate to give up even a trinket for her?’

[Love me? Did I hear that right?]

‘What about my happiness?’ asked his mind.

‘When you love someone, their happiness is your happiness. Remember that?’ replied his heart.

‘Yes, I do love her. Fine. You win.’

[Oh my god, he loves me]

Leon took off his pendant and ring and walked back to Stiria. He looked at both the items in his palm one last time and with a heavy heart he gave it to Stiria.

[I had an inclination that he loved me, but to actually hear it is--- is amazing. Oh God, I am losing my mind. Focus Luna, focus. Take deep breaths and calm down.]

“Thank you, Squall,” she said accepting it. Stiria handed the book to Squall and said, “I hope your friend likes this book.”

“I know she will.”

‘I will wait for the right moment to give this to her. I know she will love it. For now, let’s eat some ice-cream.’

After a few minutes, Leon returned to the car with two ice creams. He saw that Luna was talking to a street vendor, so he waved towards her to get her attention. She saw him and quickly came towards the car. She kept a few things she had bought in the trunk and joined him on the hood of the car.

Leon handed her a soft-serve chocolate vanilla ice cream once she was situated next to him.

“Ice cream? What’s the occasion?”

“This is to celebrate finishing all our deliveries,” he announced, doing cheers with their ice cream cones.

Everything started swirling again. The next image to stabilize was of a cave in Fociaugh Hollow.

[This is it. Time to find out what happened to you Leon in that cave?]

Author's notes:

Did not expect to see Cloud, Aerith, Tidus, Yuna, Ashe, Rasler, Serah, and Noel in this chapter, did you? haha

It was fun to loosely tie 5 more Final Fantasy (FFVII, FFX, FFXII, FFXIII-2, and FFXV Versus) stories with the lore of this one :)

If you pay attention to cloths Squall and Luna have been wearing since they left Lestallum you might have noticed that they have been wearing Cloud and Aerith's clothes from their various games... so I left SOME hints lol

Also, lots of Easter eggs in this chapter, lets see if you can answer them. 1) Which game is Stiria from? (I had mentioned about her in chapter 17. I am surprised no one picked up on it.) 2) Which game is the book Durai Papers from? 3) Which game is the book LOVELESS from? (This one is super easy) 4) Which game is the book The Song of the Savior from? 5) What is significance of number 41,269 in FFVIII? 6) What is significance of 1,370,000 Gil? (If you can answer this one, without googling, then you should be crowned as FFVIII Champion. This is a hard one.)

Please leave a comment and brighten my day. Thanks :)

2 notes · View notes

isadelavega · 5 years

Photo

@alessafalling takes Isa on a skydiving adventure

Essie had pulled out all the stops for her first jump back on the horse. She was putting even more effort into making it an entire experience considering she a new diver with her. She glanced over at Isa in the back of a friendly instructors car who’d offered to pick them up from the bus stop not far from the grounds. A lot of the employees knew Essie at this particular company so they were happy to accommodate the women on the way to their jump.

“You excited?” she asked the other woman, getting quite hyped up herself. Almost bouncing in her seat she clutches the duffle bag of her own gear that’s sitting in her lap. “You ate breakfast right?”

Isa was excited, to say the least. Ever since Essie and her first talked about skydiving and Isa coming along to try, she's been thinking about what it would be like and when they would actually go, and after all the unfortunate, painful and horrible worlds they both had to suffer through, this felt like the perfect way to forget about it all and experience adrenaline in a positive way. At least Isa hoped it would be positive and she wouldn't hate the entire jump.

"We're about to jump out of a plane from who knows what heights - of course I am excited!" she grinned at Essie, her excitement showing. She kept looking out the window, checking if the plane was in sight yet, how long they had left of the car drive like a little excited to arrive to a holiday. "And yes, I ate. Full breakfast, I didn't forget how you said it was important." The possibility of it coming back didn't even cross her mind. "How high are we going up?"

“Most people would be bricking it you know.” Essie laughed, but she was incredibly glad that Isa was thinking positively. If at any point other than the last moment she decided she didn’t want to jump Essie wouldn’t force her to, it wasn’t how she liked to roll. She might be a tad disappointed for herself since they’d be strapped together, but she was sure she could manage to book another time for herself with the company if it did happen.

“Thirteen thousand feet is the standard.” she tells Isa. “Have you ever flown before? It’s a lot lower than commercial flights fly, but a lot, an awful lot higher than you’re probably used to being with the doors open.” she teases. The instructors car pulls up to a hanger with a large half empty car park. The wide hanger doors are lying open and there’s a small crowd of people in bright yellow jumpsuits being strapped into harnesses, that’d be them in around an hour.

"I'm not most people," Isa flashed a smile in Essie's direction before looking out the window again, trying to take everything in. She was always up for something extreme and the knowledge that Essie did this so many times before helped to calm her nerves immensely. She was aware that it might change, but in her mind if she could survive and push through the blight worlds and not run off from Soapberry, she could jump out of a flying plane.

The height sounded really high, but at the same time as somebody who's never been in different heights, she couldn't really determine just how high thirteen thousand feet was. All she felt was that it was high. "Never flown, no, but always wanted to try. But I usually used the train in land and did most of my travels through the ocean by swimming, so planes never really came up as an option. So that's going to be a new experience as well. How much will we see from the plane? Everything small or incredibly small?" Not that words would be able to properly describe, she was sure.

The car stopped and they got out and Isa looked around excitedly, noticing the people in jumpsuits, and she couldn't help leaning closer to Essie and whisper, "Do we have choices for those things?" She nodded towards the jumpsuits.

“Oh gee never flown huh?” the instructor hums all of a sudden from the front seat. Essie rolls her eyes and winks at Isa. “She’s got bigger balls than you to Eric, she’ll be just fine. I have every confidence she’ll have no trouble with the plane at all.” reaching out a patting Isas’ knee with a bright smile on her face. Eric just laughs and shrugs it off, all the folk that worked at the company talked like that to each other so it was no skin off his back to be teased, he encouraged the lighthearted atmosphere considering they got a lot of people scared out of their minds showing up daily.

Essis looks at Isa curiously and then lets out a small laugh, stifled in her hand. “You’ll look radiant in sunshine yellow, you should embrace the colour.” she compliments. “I happen to have my own suit, but that just because I’m practically a pro by now. Not to mention I need wing support.” she gestures over her shoulder at her wings unfolding neatly from their time being pressed into the seat in the car.

Taking the merms hand she tugs her towards a normal sized door to the left of the hanger. “You’re going to have to sign some scary waivers okay? But just know I have your back so they’re not really so scary.”

“Exactly,” Isa said with a grin. It was all just teasin and little fun, she could tell, but still it felt good that Essie took her side and said she wouldn’t have any problems with a plane. She didn’t think she would, but she also never tried it before, so technically there was always a small chance of it kicking in when they took off from the land. But she was determined not to show any of it even if she did turn out to be afraid of such heights.

She wasn’t so sure about the yellow, though, but not because she wouldn’t look good in it. “Of course I will look great in it, I look great in anything, but it still doesn’t feel like the best choice. But I guess gotta work with what I am given, right?” She looked at the wings as they unfolded. “Do you ever actually use it during the jumps? The wings, I mean. Or have you never tried that before?” She wondered if it would ever be possible for Essie to jump with nothing but her wings…

She let Essie tug her along and followed her into the hanger. “Sure, sure. Those are the ‘If you die, it’ll all your fault and responsibility, nobody gets to sue us for it’ type of papers, right? I assumed there would be papers like this, I am guessing they don’t let you jump with them, right?”

Essie wasn’t sure how Isa would react to all this new stimuli at once, but there was only one way to find out, and keeping everyone in a positive mood about everything felt better than being too negative and tipping the scale too far in the wrong direction. The fairy would rather bolster confidence and give light warnings, then drill the hard stuff in with the safety video she’d have to watch for safety reasons anyway.

“You’re going to have to make do, yeah.” the fairy shrugs. “Everyone has to, at least it’s not a gaudy orange they had at the place closest to my home back in Scotland now that was a disaster.” She shakes her head vigorously however. “Oh god no, I can already jump from cliff tops and dive from heights with my wings, the real thrill for me is strapping them down. Keeping them tight to my body to avoid injuring them, but not having access. That’s the real thrill.” she smiles. “Sounds mad to any fairy you tell, but to feel the free fall while flightless is so much greater a rush.”

“Yeah you need to sign the papers or they won’t let you jump, there’s an extra one for being tandem with me specifically. If at any point you want to back out we don’t have to go. But I hope you’ll allow me to take you, it’s honestly going to be so great believe me.”

Isa could understand why other fairies would call jumping with bound wings mad. It felt insane to have wings and not use them in a freefall situation - anything could go wrong and then Essie wouldn’t be able to even help herself. It felt like as if she went into the depth of the ocean and instead of using her tails, she swam with her legs (something she has barely ever done, only when she was with other people and only in shallow waters which felt more like playing around than swimming). “You’re kind of mad, yeah,” she said agreeing, her voice light. “But I am about to jump with you, so I guess if you’re mad then I am mad too.”

She gave Essie a bright smile. “I’m not planning on backing out. So many other people do it, right? If they can do it, so can I. And I am doing it with you, so it’s not like I’m doing all on my own. So bring on all the paperwork, I’ll sign them, sit through all the introductory stuff and then we can go jump.” She was ready, she was excited, she was determined.

Essie smiles and shakes her head. “We’re not mad, regular people do this ALL the time. Me strapping down my wings only puts me on a level with everyone else.” she reminds. It’s easy to forget for most non regular jumpers that the instructors of this extreme sport jump multiple times a day every day, not all of these people anything more than human. It seems so wild to people, but to Essie when she can afford the time and the people who work at this company, it's just another regular day.

Encouraged by the continual positivity from the merm she laughs and sits happily with Isa as she’s made to sign and read a few papers. Deciding she’ll even sit through the standard safety video and small talk about procedure despite knowing it all word for word.

Soon enough it came time to suit up and Essie grabs Isas’ hand again to take her to find a suit to fit. “What size are you? Probably around my size right? We’re quite similar in height.” even if Essie was a touch shorter it was a pretty insignificant difference. “Any particular shade of yellow you feel like?”

Isa skimmed through most of the papers, read what felt like extremely important carefully and only kind of reading what felt like nothing but rambling and the necessary that needed to be included and then signed everything. She knew this was part of the jump and she wanted to get through it as fast as possible. When it came to watching the videos, though, she was paying attention. She didn’t care that much about the danger, it was a thrill in her stomach for now, but she also didn’t want to be an idiot about things. She didn’t want to risk anything pointlessly. And it was interesting, too, she had to admit it. Or maybe she was just way too excited about the jump and she would have found anything interesting about it.

She followed Essie as she pulled her along to get the suits, giving the woman her size. “So I can kind of choose the color myself,” she said in a bit of a triumphant voice despite how it really was just the shade of yellow and it wasn’t like she could choose whatever she wanted to wear. “Something light, not that bright yellow we saw outside. And is there anything with some cute flower patterns maybe? Or would that be too much to ask?”

Other people were heading in the same direction, some pairs, some walking alone, and she asked, curiously, “Have you ever jumped with somebody you didn’t know before? Is that a possibility? Or is that only possible who have their license?”

A laugh escapes the fairys' mouth as the other doesn't recognise the joke. Looking for a more worn suit in the merms size she hopes the colour would be a little faded to fit her specifications. "Afraid gaudy is the only colour in your size." She giggles pulling one of the suits forward. "And flowers are not quite this places style. Gotta be bright and noticeable from a distance."

"I mean before you bank enough hours and do the extra training you HAVE to jump with someone else." She did assume isa meant overall and not as they would be jumping today, but Essie’s brain catches up and she hums "I've not had anyone but someone I know yo sign the extra waivers for me. I'm still not licenced it makes people nervous despite the only specification is still need to meet being freefall hours. I've done all the training, and I'm pretty close to meeting the last requirement but it still makes people squeamish."

Wrapping her arm around isa she starts moving off towards some changing rooms. "Lets get these on and then go get you a harness huh?"

Essie once again got her, Isa only realizing the fairy was joking when the woman pulled up a faded and not at all what she was suddenly picturing at the thought of being able to choose from the shades of yellow. The two colors were probably just new and worn out, and she grumbled with a dramatic side eyes at Essie, “You are an evil, evil fairy,” but her voice didn’t have any kind of anger or hurt in them. “And flowers can be bright and noticeable, too, but I guess that is too much to ask.”

She nodded along to Essie’s explanation. “I guess it makes sense. They wanna make sure they wouldn’t splash against the ground and having a license probably makes them feel better about the jump. And what about you, though? Are you required to take people with you to get the license or you could have it without ever taking anyone?”

Isa nodded and linked their arms together with the suit hanging off of her free hand. As they headed towards the changing rooms, people came and went and most of them smiled and said at least a hello to the two of them, specifically to Essie, though, some of them even joking and she bumped her hip against Essie’s when they reached the changing rooms. “They really like you here,” she said before they both went and changed into their suits. Once they were both dressed, she threw her hands up in the air in an all dramatic fashion, turning around. “If anyone can rock these suits, it’s definitely me,” she declared.

“We’re supposed to be a species of tricks aren’t we?” she laughs shooting the merm a wink. “Us fairies are wily creatures.” Essie usually doesn’t appreciate the generalizations that can be made about her kind, but it seems fitting in the moment to add to her little joke. “Ah but how much would it cost the company to cover everything in flowers only for big manly men to complain?” she hums shaking her head side to side.

“You could get a solo certification I think? I’m not too sure on that front that’s never been my goal. I’ve only really researched and paid attention to the tandem instructor license because it’ll also cover anything I want to do solo. I’m pretty sure it’s two different levels though, can’t imagine you’d be allowed to take someone dual if you didn’t have training or experience, it’s a different vibe solo verses assisted.”

“They better! I’m one of the very few regulars they have!” she laughs. Dropping her bag inside the changing room area she produces a sort of compression vest tailored to hold her wings down. Pulling her shirt off to button it into place, her wings snug against her back as she then reaches for her own jumpsuit, a bright violet shade with a few patches sewn into the arms. “Of you’re definitely pulling it off, you’re absolutely radiant.” Essie grins.

“I am going to have to pay more attention to this from now on,” Isa said, dramatically making shifty eyes at Essie and poking towards the fairy. All was in good fun, though. She shrugged at the thought of mans in flower patterned suits. “They’d be a sight for sure. If you ask me, if they can wear Hawaiian shirts, they could wear these too. Flowers are plants too, right? Not so different.”

“So basically you’re going for the harder of the two right off the bat, right?” Isa said, her voice impressed. “Nice. How long do you have left before you can get your license?”

She only saw from the corner of her eyes as she got dressed the way Essie locked her wings against her body to make sure she couldn’t use it during the jump It looked strange and uncomfortable and very unnatural, but she figured Essie wouldn’t use it if it would hurt her in any way. She assumed nothing was worth so much to damage her wings in the process. She grinned and did a small curtsy in reaction to the compliment. “Thank you, thank you. Your suit looks great, love the color.” She took another look at the vest Essie was wearing and she asked, nodding towards it, “did it take long to get used to that thing? Does it feel weird?”

“Keep as close an eye as you like, you’ll never figure out my ways.” Essie laughs back, her tongue sticking out at the merm cheekily. Winking at Isa she shrugs. “I mean if you’re offering to customise the suits make the company an offer. But embroidery is hard if you’re doing it yourself and not cheap if you’re paying for it. I’d keep that in mind.” she teases. “Whether men will wear it or not can’t argue with costs.”

“Basically, it just covers more of what I’m interested in. I can do all of it with this one license so why aim any lower you know?” She hums “The real numbers are in the system at the front desk, I’m a few months out maybe? I’ve been working on this for a long ass time.”

Shrugging the top half of her purple jumpsuit over her shoulders Essie pauses when she’s asked about her vest. Glancing up at Isa she lets her fingers tug at the fabric a little with a proud little smirk. “I made it myself. It felt weird when it wasn’t designed right, but this version is the best it could possibly be. I made sure it was exactly what I needed.” Essie then zips her jumpsuit over it out of sight. “It works like magic.” she jokes.

Isa let out a chuckle and shook her head. “Okay, maybe, but just maybe, it doesn’t bother me enough to offer the company some extra doll up to their suits,” she said, though she did note the fact that Essie was wearing her own suit and decided that if she was going to like the entire experience and would wanna try again, she’d get her own suit. “But if they have a suggestion box, I am definitely writing a card.”

“Oh, so you’re really close. Is there an exam of some sort at the end? Or just get the jumps and then that’s it?” she asked. It’s not that she wanted to get a license herself, she was certain the jump would be exciting but she didn’t think she would wanna go to that kind of lengths, she just simply didn’t know too much about skydiving and what came with it in general and it was interesting to her, so she had questions.

“Wow, that’s impressive,” Isa said with a nod. It made sense, though - not a lot of demand for vests that would strap down a fairy’s wings so they could go skydiving or do other things where they want no chance of their wings to be used. Probably most fairy’s would never get or need something like this. Both of them were dressed now and Isa clapped her hands together fast several times, getting excited all over again. “Okay, please tell me there’s nothing else to do and the next step is getting into the plane.”

“It’s not really an exam sort of thing, it’s just like...continual assessment? I always jump with an instructor whether I’m solo or tandem. So that they can clock my hours and make sure I’m up to standard. I’m always up to standard, you have to do a lot of certifications to be allowed to jump solo after all. It is a dangerous sport. They just gotta make sure you’re going to be as safe as you can be ...while you fall to the ground from a plane.” she snorts at the absurdity of health and safety in situations like these.

“I’m no master at any rate, the pattern was my sisters doing. She makes her own clothes as a hobby. She’s really good at it, she helped me out a lot back home.” Another short laugh escapes Essie’s mouth. “You haven’t even got a harness on, then we’ll be strapped together in the plane.” she pats the other womans arm. “It’s a whole process but it’s worth it I promise!”

Holding the door open she leads the way to the open hanger. They weren’t jumping with a whole squadron of people, mainly a few solo jumpers and an instructor strapped to another newbie. Essie beams as she stoops to help the merm into her harness. “After this it’s right into the plane.” And it doesn’t take very long for Essie to suit and strap Isa up. “You’re a lot easier to strap in than Danny.” she jokes pulling the last strap tight. Stepping into her own with practiced ease as the instructor diving with them comforts a more reluctant and worried looking face.

The instructor -Ryan- gave the two newbies another run down of procedure as they headed towards the fixed wing plane sitting idle on the runway. Essie bouncing along beside Isa in anticipation, her first jump since the blight worlds had opened up and she couldn’t wait. Clambering into the open door Essie pats the spot next to her and hums as the engine starts up. “You good?”

Isa beamed when Essie told her that once they got strapped in, the next step was the plane. She understood that there was a process to get to that point, but at the same time she was ready to finally be done with them and just get on to the fun part. Or, well, what she was determined to be the fun part. Essie strapped her in nice and fast and Isa laughed at the joke Essie made about Danny. "How did he react to the experience, by the way? I don't think I ever asked you that."

She listened to the instructor intently again and then they were off to the plane and Isa's fingers excitedly tapped against her legs as they moved and took their places. "Yeah, I'm good. Just never been on a plane before," Isa said as she turned around. They were sitting next to one of the windows on the plane and Isa's eyes were fixated on the view the entire time. She didn't want to miss anything. "I saw such depths of the sea most people couldn't even imagine, but I never ever got a chance to get a bird's-eye view before."

The plane was giving off weird sounds, or at least weird sounds for Isa since she's never heard the sound of a plane before, but it took off and slowly ascended, everything on the ground getting tinier and tinier and it felt unbelievable and surreal and kind of scary in the best possible way for Isa at the same time. "No wonder you like coming up here so much," she said with a grin at Essie. "The view is amazing."

Essie bites her lip and holds back a smirk as Isa asks how Danny reacted. “You ever heard a man scream at the top of his lungs? I have to tell you...what a sound.” The memory made her almost giddy. “He asked me just before the jump to be his girlfriend and then yelled the entire way down. Wobbly as a newborn lamb once we reached the ground. I bet we were a sight to see as well considering I was strapped to his back, my legs didn’t even touch the floor.” she took great pleasure describing the jump. It had been one of the last she’d done the month prior before everything had gone to shit, it’d been so good as if to make up for what was to come.

The fairy loved everything about skydiving, the plane journey being one of the very few exceptions. It was a beautiful view, sure, but it was too long in her opinion. She wished she could jump from a rocket instead, it would get her to the proper height in far less time, but was well aware that was completely ridiculous.

When they’d reached the correct altitude the instructor motioned for Essie to get properly situated on Isas’ back. Tapping the merms shoulder and shifting in her seat so that she could start strapping them together properly. “If at any point you decide you don’t want to jump you gotta tell me.” she says finally. “Not last second, I won’t take last second. But The solos will jump first. Then us, then the instructor.”

Isa couldn’t hold back the laughter that broke out of her at Danny’s reaction to it all. She could practically see it all in front of her eyes, hear the screams all the way down like it happened in some kind of animated movie or show. “That entire thing must have been a sight to see. Or hear, for the most part of it. It’s definitely a story, though - not a lot of people get asked to be the girlfriend right before the pair jumps out of a plane together. Or at least I assume it’s not happening too often.”

When Essie tapped Isa’s shoulder, the merm tore her eyes away from the window. There a certain kind of anxiousness inside of her now seeing the entire way up to the height they were now. This is where they would jump out. Of a plane. From so high above she couldn’t see the buildings or anything other than patches of colors mostly. It was insane to even think about. So she tried not to think about it, instead focused on what Essie was telling her while her hands worked, nodding along to show that she was listening, taking it all in. “No chickening out the last second, got it.”

Once Essie strapped them together, it felt so strange to have Essie behind her and not be able to properly look at her while she was watching the solos jumping out of the plane one by one. She was so certain she wouldn’t feel any sort of fear while both of her feet was still on the ground, didn’t understand anyone who didn’t end up jumping the last minute, but now she could get why people would not go through with it despite coming to such lengths to try it out. She was determined to not chicken out, though. She kept telling herself that a lot of people did it, nothing bad was going to happen, and as they inched closer to it being their turn, she reached back and took Essie’s hand for support. And then the last second, despite Essie telling her that she wouldn’t have it, she couldn’t help saying, “I’m not so sure this is a good idea anymore...”

Essie smiles dreamily at the memory. She’s completely hopeless to talk to when you indulge her for talking about her boyfriend. They’d had it pretty rough through the blight but nothing a little time couldn’t patch up. “Naive of me maybe, but I was so upset when he didn’t even ask me before the jump. He didn’t figure he needed to ask, but I don’t know I guess I’m just a hopeless case, I wanted to be asked. So he did. It was honestly probably the best way he could have come up with to ask me.” She knows she’s a touch embarrassing and gives Isa an apologetic look. “But enough about the boyfriend, this is a girls day out.”

Essie shuffled them rather awkwardly to the door, slowly one by one waving to the solo jumpers who cheered and hollered as they were whisked away in the wind. Jumping always had a short window of time, they needed to be dropped over the airfield after all. Essie squeezed the merms hand as they moved up the line. Their instructor already strapped to his own passenger just running his hands over all the connections the fairy had made between the two of them. Just checking it was all 100% correct, which it was. The fairy was listening carefully, waiting patiently for the moment Isa might object, if it was anywhere before they reached the door she’d allow them to stay on the plane.

The words didn’t come however until they were standing directly in the doorway, Essie had her hand on the wing as Isa spoke and instead of answering she tipped forward. Isa could yell at her later. but as they entered freefall she whooped as the rest of the jumpers thus far had. Unable to contain herself as she took a hold of Isas sleeves and moves her arms out into the correct falling position. Spread out like starfish she’d joked when the video had gotten to this point and Essie echoes the joke loudly to the merm as they fall.

Essie warned her that she wasn’t going to take very last minute chickening out, Isa knew that, still when Essie leaned forwards and jumped for the both of them, it came as a sort of shock and despite how Isa laughed at Danny’s reaction to scream his way down to the ground, she couldn’t help but let out a high pitched shriek herself, too. They were falling. They were falling. “Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod,” she screamed in the beginning while Essie whooped and enjoyed it all.

And then Essie took her hands and moved her in the correct position and brought up the joke about the starfish she already said while they were watching one of the videos and just like back then, Isa couldn’t help the laugh now either. And her fear didn’t completely go away, they were falling down into nothingness, but she started to pay attention to the way it felt to be just falling and as the seconds passed by, she started to enjoy it more and more. “This is insane!” she shouted at Essie and ended up even whooping one herself, just to try out how it felt.

Essie let the feeling of the wind whipping through her hair wash over her, the lurch in her stomach had stopped being terrifying years ago. She was so used to this sensation and yet it never failed to thrill her. The fairy was no stranger to the screams of new jumpers, the instructor that had jumped behind them had another screamer strapped to his chest. Essie laughed and waves jovially to Ryan as he grimaced about his ears ringing.

“No more insane than deep sea diving.” she yells back. Although that might just be a personal feeling. Deep sea simply was the only thing that scared Essie enough to avoid the water completely. And while it was likely a little less dangerous, the fairy certainly didn’t see it that way. “Reach out for Ryan and Caleb!” she instructs, shifting her body so they fall closer to the other tandem pair. “We can spin them and they can spin us.” she yells excitedly. She loves tricks, and even with first time jumpers a little gentle spin won’t hurt.

Essie was just laughing at her screams and if Isa wouldn't have been preoccupied with all the screaming and falling she did. She experienced this before anyway, probably even expected Isa to be screaming her lungs out in the beginning since this was the first time doing this. "There's no chance of hitting the ground and getting smashed into mush during deep sea diving, though," Isa screamed back. It was funny, though - how the water was her element and Essie would have rather avoided it and the air was Essie's and she chickened out at the last second and was only falling now because Essie didn't let her.

She didn't even notice the instructor was close to them, Isa was more focused on the feeling of thrill that was rising in her stomach than who was near them. She looked around and caught sight of Ryan and Caleb. "That sounds insane and interesting at the same time!" she yelled as she reached her hand out and took their hands as the guys were also coming towards them, probably with the same intent that Essie had. "How does the spin work? What do we do?" she yelled.

Once Isa had a hold of Ryans hand Essie managed to reach out and take a hold of his arm with a grin. “Let go.” she told Isa. She’d just needed the merm to show interest to go through with it, she wouldn’t have if the merm had thought the idea not at least interesting. Ryans jumper didn’t seem so fond, but he winked at Isa and then threw his arm forward slowly, causing the two women to spin in a controlled and gentle circle like a human pinwheel. Even if the spokes were nowhere near human.

Jumps feel like forever in the air, but chutes need to be pulled correctly at the right time, and as the band of solo jumpers start to pull Essie lets go of Isas sleeve and tells her to brace herself, reaching up to pull their own chute. The sudden halt in the rate of movement towards the ground can cause a little bit of whiplash if not prepared. The parachuting portion of the jump is also exciting to Essie, able to take in the sights more calmly as she steers them into the landing checkpoint for pick up. A large bullseye on the grass for amusement.

“Bend your knees and don’t forget to move when you hit the ground.” she instructs Isa as they approach the target spray painted into the grass. Once her feet hit the floor Essie turns her head to ground the chute before grinning and unlatching herself with a little difficulty from the merm. “How was that?” she cheers.

When Essie told her to let go, Isa did and soon they were spinning around and oh my god, they were literally spinning towards the ground, the ground that was getting closer and closer with every second at this point and it was exciting and insane and thrilling all at the same time and it kind of felt like they’d be falling forever despite the ground getting closer and closer.

And then suddenly Essie told her to brace herself and pulled their chute, slowing down their fall and Isa spent the entire time looking around, trying to take as much of the view as she could in. And before she would have liked, she Essie warned her to bend her knees and make sure to pay attention to the landing and then they were back down on the ground, Isa losing her balance and a sudden lurch of her stomach that did not feel good at all. She was so preoccupied with everything that was happening during the fall, she didn’t even realize her stomach kept getting more and more messed up, so when Essie unhooked herself from Isa, instead of replying to the fairy’s question, she bent over and threw up everything that was in her stomach.

Once she was done, she rubbed her mouth off with her arm and gave Essie a thumbs up. “Would have loved to skip this last bit. Please tell me I’m not the only one you’ve seen do that.” She knew that would at least help her ego to know that she wasn’t the only one who threw up. “But the rest was really cool. Terrifying, but cool.”

Unhooked from Isa, Essie starts to unbuckle her own harness so that she can free her wings as quickly as possible. However she caught the sight of the merm swaying a little. It wasn’t very long until the breakfast Isa had told Essie all about in the car on the way over started to make it’s encore. Quick on her feet she steps forward and gathers the merms hair up and rubs her back with her other hand. The sight wasn’t so pleasant, and the sound was even worse. Essie had only ever thrown up once in her life -Fae not susceptible to illness after all- and she couldn't imagine how she must be feeling.

The thumbs up causes the fairy to laugh. “You’re not the only one.” she promises. “Far from it.” Is the reassurance she gets. Essie admires the attitude and rewards the merm with a bright smile. “All we have to do is wait for the van to pick us up and take us back to the hanger.” she husm soothingly. “But I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, I did warn you that I wasn’t going to take last second bailing, you should have said long before we got to the door.” she teases.

Essie coming up to her, holding her hair back and rubbed her back through the entire time while she was throwing up warmed Isa’s heart and felt extremely grateful for the fairy’s friendship in the moment. She would have preferred to skip this little incident and kept her breakfast down in her stomach, but Essie’s small help meant a lot to her, just like it did when she heard that she wasn’t the only one who ended up with her breakfast on the ground after the landing. “That’s reassuring at least.”

“How long does it take for the van to get to us?” she asked curiously. She laughed at Essie’s teasing, though and looked up at the sky, wondering how big the plane must have looked from down here when they jumped. “Yeah, I know you did. I wanted to jump, I swear, just standing there and looking down… we were really high up, Essie! Like, really, really, really high up! I’m glad you didn’t let me chicken out, though. I would have been really angry at myself if we didn’t end up jumping because of me.”

Essie wasn’t even lying to spare the merms feelings. So many people had this sort of reaction after landing even if they’d enjoyed themselves. Some got dizzy, some got giddy, some went into shock as the adrenaline stopped pumping into their system. The worst reaction was the throwers. But it wasn’t anyone's fault after all. “Don’t worry about it, we’re one of the last jumps today, so it doesn’t matter at all. The rain will get it.”

“Not long, fifteen minutes between here and the hanger straight road, but the walk would be much longer, not to mention the equipment needs picked up and packed away. “Maybe plane and jumping was a little much in one day. I didn’t realize you’d never been ip in one before.” she shrugs lightly. “My bad on that one, but I’m glad you liked it despite the upchuck.” Turning around she requests. “Help me gather the parachute so it can be stuffed in the boot when the van pulls up?”

“Good to know. Though if you wanted to forget it ever happened and not mention it to people if the topic comes up, that would be greatly appreciated,” Isa said, running her fingers through her hair and shaking it a bit.

She shook her head in disagreement, though, at Essie's words. "No, don't say that, I don't mind that I did both for the first time today. I wanted to try flying for a long time, so it was cool, and you have to get up to the air somehow to actually be able to jump, so it was unavoidable. Unless we would have gone to that cliff you like so much, but I think that would have been a different kind of jump. And it was fun! No reason to apologize since I had fun."

"Sure," she said and following Essie's lead and instructions on how to gather the entire parachute properly. Once they've done that, they only had to wait a couple of minutes before the van arrived to pick them and the others up and then they were heading back to where they started the day off. "How often do you actually come out here to jump?" Isa asked curiously.

Essie shakes her head slightly, an amused sort of smirk tugging on the corners of her lips. “Oh come on now, I told you the hard truth about Danny’s jump. It would hardly be fair of me to go around lying to people about yours.” she teases. But the fairy is also not mincing her words, she’d rather tell the truth about such things. She does allow the merm some comfort. “But I’ll only tell them if they ask directly how about that?” she adds with a wicked grin.

“I honestly wouldn’t let you jump form that cliff, there’s rocks at the bottom, it’s more a place for folk with wings.” she admits with a sort of awkward laugh. “And even then Danny said he’d never jump from it. Maybe I am a little crazy like people say.” It doesn’t bother her much, it would bother her if people thought she was truly crazy, but she knew she was a thrill seeker, it was no surprise to her when people who didn’t do extreme sports didn’t understand.

“Me? Whenever I can both afford it and have the time.” She responds. The others in the van being quite rowdy after the jump so she’s forced to speak a little louder than normal to compensate. The fairy starts to unbuckle more of her harness and gestures of Isa to do the same, for more comfort on the drive. “You think you liked it enough to do it again sometime? Obviously no time soon, most people have this as an occasional sort of hobby, once again...guess I’m just a little crazy with that one.” a short laugh leaving her lips.

Essie was being really fair, but Isa still would have preferred if the fairy would have agreed to not say anything about the throwing up. The screaming now felt like a given for the first time, but having a story about throwing up wasn't cute. But Essie also didn't seem pushable on the topic and who would actually directly ask if Isa threw up or not? Why would anyone wonder? So she ended up nodding. "Sounds like the best deal I can get from you, so I'll take it."

Isa's eyebrows shot up at the fact that Essie wouldn't even let her jump from that cliff, or that her boyfriend wouldn't be willing to jump, either. "Just how exactly does this cliff look?" she asked, now even more curious about the place than before. "Do you have pictures? It's your favorite place, you must have pictures of it, right?"

"Makes sense. Are there instances when you jump more than once a day? Is that allowed even?" She was speaking louder too, just to make sure they could hear each other. She followed Essie's lead and started unbuckling the harness as much as she could in the sitting position. "Yeah, not right away, not right now, but I think I would love to do it again. Maybe with an ending without throwing up and no chickening out in the beginning. Can you guys do other stuff in the air? Aside from the spinning? I wouldn't mind trying out other stuff, too."

Essie lets her grin slip back into a smirk. She was pretty sure no one would be asking about Isa specifically. The only person she imagined asking her about the jump was Danny, and really who was Danny going to tell that would mortify Isa? No one most likely, it wasn’t the sort of thing you passed on in gossip, especially considering he’d jumped for the first time himself and Essie had the memories to prove he hadn’t been so quiet. Even if he’d managed to keep his own breakfast down. The fairy saw no shame in throwing up, it was a shock to your body, you were jerked around quite a lot and loads of people did it.

Descriptions were really not her forte. She mimes a sheer drop and then as her hand reaches her lap she gestures both of her hands and her fingers upwards “With like rocks at the bottom.” It’s a terribly poor attempt at getting the point across and one of the other jumpers even laughs a little having caught that portion of the conversation from across the isle in the minibus. Essie shoots the man a look before shrugging. “I’ll take you there maybe, but not to jump. You’d die. I don’t really have photos.”

“It’s allowed.” Essie nods. “I get a pretty good deal with the company if I want that. I have to jump at the allotted times with others, but I just stay geared up and drink juice while I wait for them all to get the briefing. You just have to use your own common sense, jump as much as your body can handle and don’t be dumb about it you know?” At the ask of what else could be done in the air Essie beams. ISa being willing to know more, to go again sometime was a boost in her mood. And the fairy was already happy with the dive, this was just sugar on the cake. “I’ll show you some of my gopro footage? We rode inflatable dolphins once on the way down, it was ADORABLE.”

Isa tilted her head as she watched Essie’s hands as she tried to mime the entire cliff-drop. It didn’t really clear things up in her head but altogether it looked kind of funny and Isa watched it with a grin on her face. “Got it, no jumps. I very much don’t want to die, I can assure you of that, so I am not going to risk anything. But it would be cool to check it out once in the future, if for nothing else, the view from the top. If it’s so high, I’m sure the view is amazing from up there.”

She nodded along at Essie’s explanation. She could understand needing to know how much the body could handle. Technically they didn’t do anything that was supposed to be tiring, they literally just fell down from a big height, but still her stomach was recovering and she could feel in her muscles and her body in general that another jump right now wouldn’t be a smart idea. “How many can you jump in a day? I’m assuming there were times when you maxed yourself out.”

Isa’s eyes widened for a moment in surprise and then she burst into laughter. “Oh my god, yes, please, I need to see that footage, that sounds amazing. Why did you go with dolphins, though? Why not something else?”

“It’s a really great view.” Essie agrees. “Even if we don’t jump, apparently you can climb down with less danger to yourself. It’s not so high that you couldn’t climb, but a shorter fall makes the jump a little more thrilling sometimes.” the fairy winks. “But it’s still a good distance, it’s got a pretty solid height on sea level at least.”

“Oh, there were some days where I was completely reckless when I was a novice. Adrenaline is so good at masking fatigue and dehydrations and all that fun stuff. You’ve got to be smart, really take into account your limits. If I have the cash and the time I usually jump five ish a day? Six maybe. And after that I’ll feel completely fine. It’s an expensive wee hobby to have, but I know people who jump more, much more, and feel absolutely fine doing it. There’s no limit apart from your own body, so if you’re fit and healthy and looking after yourself you can sorta just keep going until you feel bad or so I’ve been told.”

“We were all solo, we all had a different coloured dolphin, it was hilarious.” a laugh escaping the fairy as well at the memory. “It was back home in scotland though, with a company I’d known since I started. One of the regular blokes had been driving for the days dives and saw an end of summer sale on pool toys. The dolphins had handles and honestly how could he say no to that?”

“Climbing down might not be my thing, but I could just enjoy the view from the top, that sounds pretty and you can jump.” Climbing generally didn’t excite her, especially if there were other ways to the top. Why strain yourself so much like that? You couldn’t even enjoy the destination properly if you tired yourself out completely first, in her opinion. “You’re jumping with your wings out from there, though, right? Not with a parachute or anything.” Might have been a dumb question, but Isa wanted to check.

“Six times a day... ” Isa repeated, looking out the window and up at the sky. That sounded so much and so insane to her, though Essie was right, it was all just a matter of time and practice. When she was standing up in the plane, jumping just once felt like an insanity too and still she jumped (well, to the push of Essie, but she was glad for it, she would have regretted not jumping). “That’s impressive.”

She was grinning as she listened to the story, the picture in her head not completely similar to what happened, but in her mind it looked really cool and rainbow color for some reason too. “That sounds so cool. And you have footage of this, right? I can’t wait to see!”

It was likely no surprise to anybody that Essie also enjoyed climbing, perhaps not as much as she loved flying and diving from heights but it was still an interest to her. Mainly free climbing, bouldering mainly, although this was something she didn’t strap her wings down for. She didn’t trust her feet as much as her wings, truthfully. “Oh yeah, wings out. I don’t have a death wish I swear. I just like extreme sports!” she laughs shaking her head. “Not a high enough fall for a chute.”

“Yeah, when I have the cash.” she confirms. he had a pretty good job now, and despite living alone her bills just weren’t that bad. Honestly she likely had enough money to fully indulge herself, but she was trying to be conservative. Save up for flights if ever there came a need for her to rush home. Emergency money was something her mother had hammered into her brain before she’d moved, so she was trying to be good. The fairy puffs up a little in pride at the comment, “Thank you.”

“I do. We have go-pro footage of all the jumps that day. My friend cut me a disc of it, which of course I instantly converted to a file in the cloud. Bloke is so old trying to give me a disc rather than send a file.” she laughs mockingly at her old jumping buddy back home.

Isa chuckled and nodded. “Yeah, figured you don’t have a death wish, you wouldn’t jump this many times and land safe and sound if you did. Even though I can understand why somebody would say that, some of the things you do just sound completely insane.” She looked back up at the sky, clear blue and nothing, not even clouds covered it up. “And then you go up in a plane and do the jump and it doesn’t feel that completely insane anymore,” she added with a grin on face.

She nodded along as if she understood what Essie was talking about. She had her phone, she knew how to use the basics, but things like the cloud and cutting a disc and such sounded like a foreign language to her. Not that she was going to admit that to Essie out loud, though. “Do you guys often film during jumps? Or was that just a one time thing?”

The van finally slowed down and pulled over to the side of the building and the two of them handed off their gears and Isa’s suit, Essie putting hers away. “Do I need to sign something else before we leave? Or anything else we need to do?” she asked. “Because I was thinking we could get some ice cream on the way back to town? What do you say?” She felt her stomach was all good now and she was kind of getting hungry, too, and ice cream just felt like the perfect solution.

With a shake of her head Essie shrugs. “I jump so often there’d be no point. I don’t need it to relive the feeling since I can just go and feel the feeling again. People jump and film occasionally at best. Mainly people film if it’s a bucket list sort of thing I find. Get a video because they’ll never go again.”

The end of the trip back to the hanger rolls around and they shed all their gear, Essie into her own bag, and Isa back to the pegs it came from. Emerging from the changing rooms the fairy glances at Isa. “We can totally get ice cream. Nothing else you're required to do but enjoy the aftermath of a jump and put together an amazing story to tell others about it. That’s what people usually do.”

They’d get a lift back to town, a short trip by anyone's standards and then they’re standing on the street waving Eric goodbye. “So where’s this ice cream place?” Essie asks linking her arms with the merm. “Lead the way.”

“Great,” Isa said with a nod when Essie agreed to the ice cream and then her mind wandered off to what kind of story she would tell others about her jump – definitely leaving out the chickening out and the throwing up. She’d include the screaming, since that felt like the least embarrassing of it all, and would focus most on the view and the adrenaline and the thrill and the spinning, that spinning was incredible. And the promise of other tricks and how she definitely wanted to go on other jumps.

They got back to town rather quickly, they said their goodbyes, and then they were left just the two of them. Essie linked their arms together and Isa happily started leading them towards the ice cream place she found relatively quickly into her stay in Soapberry. “It’s in Grieselle, in a courtyard. I think it must be a family business, but I am not 100% sure of that. But they are selling craft ice cream and they are coming up with their own flavors after supernatural creatures and artifacts and stuff. It’s really cool, I love going there.”

Bouncing along with one arm linked to the merm and the other swinging her bag, Essie hums as they go. She’d been in town here for ages, and yet simple little things like ice cream parlors were a mystery. The only other one she knew of having only been shown to her by Joey a week prior. “I really need to continue looking around this place, so many hole in the wall shops in this town.” the blight had put a real damper on exploration.

“So what’s your favourite flavour and do they have toppings? I will only eat ice cream if there are toppings those are the rules.” the fairy lets Isa know. “Also only gossip is to be shared over ice cream by royal decree.” she adds in a haughty voice.

Isa grinned and nodded along. “You’re not the only one. I’ve been here for several months now and I still have places to discover and explore. There are just so many different, new and magical parts of the town to explore, you can’t just fly through and catalogue all of them in a day. You gotta enjoy. We should have other days where we check out new places.”

“My favorite is vampire blood - it’s completely red, as if it was actually blood, but the flavor is actually a mix of berries and it’s one of the best ice creams I’ve tried in a really long time,” Isa explained. “And of course there are toppings. Not the biggest selection, but you’ll find something you’ll like for sure. As for the gossip, I’ll accept the royal decree and now you’ve made me ridiculously curious about the gossip you have. Anything juicy? About somebody I know too?”

“We should have a shopping day, we can go in and out of shops to our hearts content.” Essie suggests. She loves doing things like that, dedicating a whole day off work to something like a girls day out. It’d been an awful long time since the sleepover she’d had with Vi and Bella after all. She needed more girl time, the station was so chock full of men, and the one woman she knew was Ruby. And for obvious reasons she steered as clear as she could politely manege.

“The name is a little off putting.” The fairy comments, but knowing what actual vampire blood tasted like was maybe the only reason. At least it didn’t taste like the real thing. The expression that crosses Essies face shows that she hadn’t really been thinking she would have to start the gossip session. Holding open the door for the merm the fairy hums in thought trying to come up with something. “Well maybe not gossip but Bella and I are going to scotland soon. Bells is going to fly us there.”

"I am never going to say no to a shopping day, you can count me in," Isa grinned. She loved shopping - maybe a bit too much so. She could never say no, when she saw something she liked, she bought it without thinking about price. The only reason she could do this was because she didn't have rent to pay (which was yet another reason why sleeping in the water was a good decision on her part) so she could spend as much as her paycheck allowed her to buy. And she never actually had one of those movie montage girl shopping sprees before.

Isa shrugged. "They are just fantasy named. It has the flavors under the names, too, so you know what you're getting." She loved the idea and the different distinctions that they made with the names. They went inside and started looking through the possibilities while they waited for the three people ahead of them to order and Isa nodded at Essie's words. "Bella mentioned it to me before. Getting rid of her sire's belongings, right? Are you excited to go home?"

Essie was a lot more conservative with her cash when spending on things she classed as trivial. She saved her money for her hobbies and for food and rent. She already had clothes she’d brought with her from scotland. She hadn’t really bought anything new for herself the entire time she’d been in soapberry, but she was willing to change that. She couldn’t live in Dannys shirts forever when she hadn’t done laundry. She needed new things as the seasons changed and her clothes from home got worn in. “I need some serious new stuff and you always look good so I’ll need your irreplaceable opinion.”

Essie was peering into the cold cabinet of ice cream flavours as they spoke, trying to catch the names from around the people blocking the view. “I’m really excited, I thought I was going to have to wait until like my dads birthday or something to buy tickets. I’m lucky to have Bella. I’m glad I can do something for her in return, we’re going to get this done for her so she doesn’t have to worry.” Essie pulls back and decides to let the people move instead of being obnoxious around them. “So that’s a bit of goss from me, it’s your turn. Also it 100% still counts even if you knew we were going anyway.” she laughs.

“That just means you completely forgot my postal uniform, which I am eternally grateful about,” Isa joked but it felt like to be complimented and admired for her style. It was mostly dresses, she refused to wear any kind of pants until it was impossibly cold and she couldn’t possibly wear anything else, but while it was only chilly outside, she loved wearing different tights with dresses. Anything that wasn’t pants, she was happy with. “But thank you. I’m happy to help. What kind of clothes do you need? What kind of clothes do you like?”

Isa smiled and nodded. “She’s extremely generous and kind, yeah.” Bella showered her in gifts as well, which was a first for her for sure, but oh wow, it felt so nice and so amazing and enjoyed every single second of it. “You guys will have some time to check in on your family, too? And look around, show Bella some nice parts of Scotland?”

“Hey! That’s not fair!” Isa exclaimed, her voice high pitched and a joking dramatics to it, but her eyes were grinning. “If everything counts as new gossip, I could just tell you we’ve been skydiving and it would count as such too.” SHe shook her head and let out a small chuckle. “But okay, let’s see... do you know the Jameses? They live near the sheriff’s station, that couple where the guy is a naga. I heard the guy decided that he liked being in hig snake form more than being married and left the woman and went into the wilderness.”

“You don’t have any control over your postal uniform. I forgive you for that travesty.” Essie jokes with a wink to the merm biting her tongue between her teeth in a smile. The two were unaware they both had similar ideas about full length trousers. But they’d soon find out. “I like shorts, I need winter shorts for when it gets colder. Either that or thick tights and warm jumpers. But it’s not only that...I need some cuter things too.” a small blush on her face. “But we can talk about those things later.” she waves a dismissive hand.

Essie smiles indulgently at the thought of her best friend. “She is. I’m glad I met her so early on into living here. First person I really spoke to more than one time actually.” Shuffling up in the que as two people step out of the way with their ice cream, Essie beams “We’re staying with my family actually. My sister is helping Bella find the right place to go, so we’re staying in my family home since there’s enough space there for everyone. My sister sunny lives in a small place with roomies so it’s easier to stay with my parents.”

“Ah but I was there, you however are NOT coming to scotland with us. There’s a difference.” Essie shoots back jutting her lower lip out in a pout at the playful argument. She gasps loudly at Isas gossip. “Jake left Dawn? No way!”

"Thank you, thank you, that is very kind of you," Isa chuckled and then nodded. "Sounds like a plan, we can discuss preferences when we have clothes to choose from, too." She smiled at Essie's words about Bella. "I wouldn't say she was the first person I spoke to more than once, those were people I delivered mail to - some of them constantly order stuff so I talk to them several times a week -, but she was the first one I think I really talked to more than once, too." Bella had the kind of personality that it wasn't too hard to imagine that others were gravitating towards that too. "Oh, that's really nice. And I'm guessing that makes the entire trip a lot more easier - both accommodation wise and carrying out the task. When are you guys going?"

Isa let out a chuckle and raised her hands up in the air in defense. "Fine, fine, I guess you got me there. I am really not going. You should definitely send me pretty pictures when you guys are there, though." At Essie's reaction, she nodded. "Yeah, I had the same reaction! Couldn't believe it, they seemed so good together. But the neighbor sounded so sure. She said she didn't see Jake around for weeks now."

Two of the three people that were ahead of them paid and moved out so while only one person was ahead of them, they finally had a good look at the options and Isa started perusing them. "Do you know what you want to get?" she asked Essie.

“This shopping trip is serious business, we’ll need to ready our wallets.” Essie jokes lightly. She loved the idea of having someone to go shopping with, she hadn’t been shopping with anybody apart from her sister in years, and with her sisters goth style it was very hard to find anything she personally liked. But the dresses Isa wore were cute, and Essie couldn’t imagine shops selling similar things wouldn’t have something for her as well.

“I met her first don’t make me fight you for friend rights.” Essie teases wiggling a finger at Isa threateningly. “I’ll fight yeh.” she adds laying her accent on thicker just for the dramatic effect before dissolving into giggles. Although Essie knew honestly she was a very jealous person, she could get jealous of her boyfriend but she was also a touch friend jealous. She just didn’t like to let on, and tried her best not to be however and hoped Isa would never find out. “It’s going to be so fun introducing my mum and dad to Bella. My dad knows all about her, me and my dad talk the most on the phone, it’ll be fun to see what he makes of her in real life.”

“I’m so sad for Dawn. But then again if Jake left then it’s probably for the best. Being stuck loving someone is a shitty sort of experience when they don’t feel quite the same. Best not drag it out.” Looking intensely at the cabinet of ice cream Essie found herself unable to decide. “Are you getting the vampire blood one? I’ll get what you get but I want sprinkles. Always.”

Isa let out a chuckle. "Of course you met her first, you've arrived to Soapberry a lot earlier than I did, I couldn't have possibly met her before you did. Your accent came out so thick before, though," she added with a small giggle. "And I'm guessing it gets thicker when you're home, right?" Now it was okay to understand Essie, but she could easily imagine her getting into it where Isa would just blink and stare and not understand a word. "I'm sure it'll go down nice and smooth, be optimistic. You're really close with your parents?" she asked, wondering what that must be like. Sometimes she wondered if she grew up in a different way, would she still be here right now.

She nodded at Essie's question. "Yeah, I'm getting the vampire blood and the secret of the nymphs, which I'm not sure why it got its name, but the flavor is banana and the two goes amazingly together, if you ask me. And I usually get chocolate on the top - are you getting that too and the sprinkles on top of it or ice cream and sprinkles and no chocolate?"

Essie laughs and shakes her head. “I slow down how I talk A LOT, people here find my accent so damn hard to understand, especially on the phone.” she tells the merm. “If I went normal speed no one could keep up with me. Though you all give it a rather good go, i applaud the effort.” She says this last part at her usual speed, accent thick as it is when she’s back home. “I’m close with my dad. My mum and I chat, but we’re not as close. My dad is who I talk to the most aside from my sisters. And even then -though don’t tell anyone- I do have a favourite sister.” the fairy adds with a wink and a hushed tone.

“I think I want the nymph one. Nymph one and just sprinkles any and all kinds, as many as will fit on top and not fall off.” Essie requests to the employee behind the counter. Plain ice cream to her was boring in any flavour, she needed things she could chew or crunch to make it interesting. Plain wasn’t her style for most foods. “Glad you feel you can eat again after the dive. Stomach settled nice huh?”

“A lot? Seriously?” Isa asked back, a bit surprised. She figured Essie might pay attention to her accent, but she didn’t think she was holding back that much. “Can you show me how it is when you are not holding back?” she asked, now extremely curious if she could actually understand what Essie was telling her. It turned into a weird challenge in her head.

She tilted her head a bit, listening to what Essie was telling her about her family, nodding along to show that she was listening. “Was it hard to move away from them? A whole ocean in between and all? Also just how many sisters do you have? You sound like you have at least ten,” Isa giggled.

She smiled at Essie’s order and when she saw all the sprinkles on the scoop of ice cream as it was handed to the fairy and then Isa ordered her own, the chocolate oozing along the ice cream for a few seconds and then freezing along the two scoops. She quickly paid for both of them and then nodded towards the tables and chairs outside the place. “Should we sit?” she suggested. “And yeah, it’s okay now, no nausea or anything, thankfully. I am not going to eat a 12 course meal today for sure, but this ice creams won’t be causing problems either.”

“More when I’m on the phone at work honestly, I put on the shittiest american accent when I have to answer the phones at work. You’re getting like half speed right now.” Essie bites her lip to bite back a smile before laying it on thick. Her voice goes up slightly in pitch, words tumbling one after the other at Isa in a tidal wave. “But this is how I would usually speak. Bit harder to ken for people who are used to the slow american bullshite. And even then I don’t throw in words I wish I could. You’d never understand the full banter, I’d have a right beamer trying to explain, you’d think i was a right fuckin’ daftie as I explained what ,like I don’t know, napper or bampot meant.”

Toning her voice back down to half speed. With a grin Essie corrects. “I have three older sisters. And it was hard at first, but I moved to a city none of them lived a year before I even thought about moving here. It as hard doing that. But surprisingly easy to make the choice to go further after that.”

Taking her ice cream Essie bites the top off with reckless abandon. Glad the other was feeling better Essie sits at the table and beams across it at the merm. “OKay so gossip. How do you know Jake is gone gone and not just out visiting family?” the girls would theorise until they both were forced to head home.

FINISHED

#{ alessa caird }#{ essie 004 }#{ take a leap and fly }

7 notes · View notes