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gale-gentlepenguin · 3 years

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ML Fic: Soulmate Survey Part 34

Man these parts are getting harder and harder to churn out. A lot of plot points converging and real life ramping up. Hopefully you all enjoy this. Please comment your thoughts on the chapter. And if you really liked it, Reblog it. Thats the best way to get others to see it. Also, Please let me know your thoughts. Your comments fuel me.

(Master Post)

_____________________________________________________________

Masquerade surveyed the classroom. Her former classmates now her masked servants. It was fitting how they were all silent. Before, they listened to her because she told them exactly the things they wanted to hear, now they listened because she had power over them. It was kind of poetic in a way.

She looked across the classroom, she realized that there seemed to be more people missing than she initially realized.

“We are missing someone. Aside from Marinette, who is missing?”

The controlled classmates looked amongst themselves. Trying to figure out who was the one that was not in the class.

“Is it Chloé?” Miracular inquired, trying to answer her master’s request.

The akuma looked around.

“Huh… Oh yea, she isn’t here. Well she isn’t important. I was thinking someone else.” Masquerade answered. She looked to her most recently made akuma servant.

The Bubbler, the akumatized version of Nino stood motionless. As if he was not registering what was going on.

“Bubbler? Do you know who is missing?”

The multicolored akuma said nothing. Not even looking in the direction of the mask maiden.

“Bubbler! I order you to answer me!” She commanded with fiery rage.

The akuma turned to face his master, now responding.

“Adrien is missing.” The bubbler answered, his voice robotic and as emotive as a speak and spell.

“So, Adrien isn’t in the room. What a shame. I was planning on turning him into my handsome little knight.”

Masquerade thought for a moment.

Has Adrien been akumatized? Lila wasn’t sure she had ever seen or heard about him getting akumatized. She knew that the class had pretty much gotten hit at least once or twice at some point from what she had heard and read from the ladyblog. But if that goody-goody Marinette hadn’t been akumatized, Adrien likely hadn’t been akumatized either.

“Alright my servants! We have a new mission. I want you to lock this school down! No one is allowed in or out. Anyone you find, bring them to me. If they can be akumatized, then they are joining our cause.”

“Time breaker. Guard the perimeter outside of the school. Anyone outside of Ladybug and Chat noir trying to get in. Tag them, but only if they are suspicious of what’s going on. Stay hidden otherwise.”

“Timebreaker nodded and began skating out of the room in a rush.

“Horrificator, once Timebreaker is outside, seal all the exits in the main building.”

The masked monstress nodded and sped out of the room.

“Dark Cupid, Stoneheart, Princess Fragrance, Miracular and Reflekta. I want you to split up check all of the rooms and bring me potential akumas.”

The five akuma nodded and made their way out the door.

“Gamer and Robostus. I want you to hack into the airwaves. I want access to every Electric device in Paris when I give you the signal. But make sure to be subtle. I don’t want anyone to know about us until I tell you.”

The two nod and start working to get that ready for her.

She focuses her attention to the bubble making akuma that was giving her problems earlier.

Considering how hard it was to break him down, it was understandable. She had saved him for last for a reason. Because he was the hardest one to crack.

He was a relatively calm individual, able to keep a level head. But even he had his weakness. His confidence. Once that was shaken, seeing his entire class taken, knowing his girlfriend was under her control, he couldn't resist another moment. In a way, it was the most satisfying charm on her bracelet.

“Now Bubbler, you are going to go and locate Marinette and Adrien for me. Put them in a bubble and bring them to me. Help that girlfriend of yours.”

The bubbler nodded yes despite severe shaking. Seems even now he is trying to resist the control of the mask.

“Troublesome, but it is only temporary. He will break soon enough.” Masquerade mused to herself.

She looked at the near empty room with contempt. This was hardly a place where she could exact her vengeance. It was so… lame. Though a thought occurs as she realized who she had left standing at attention without orders.

“Evillustrator, I have a special request for you.”

________________________________________________________

“What is this?” Chloé screeched. “My daddy bought me the best phone plan in the city. How can I not have service right now?!”

The nurse felt a chill run down her spine. Could the akuma block out phone signals? Is that why there is no attention being given to the school? How could they call for help? How would anyone know of the akuma attack? Would Ladybug and Chat noir be able to help them?

The nurse started to feel herself going pale, she was just supposed to be a school nurse. Worst thing she needed to deal with was a scraped knee or give a kid an ice pack. Now she has a woman that collapsed on the bed and an akuma that is somewhere in the school. She had just moved to Paris a few months ago. It was her dream to live in the city of love, get her career going, find a nice guy, and just live the good life. But no one told her that supervillain attacks would be so personally connected to her situation? She had heard about this crap in New York and in America. But Paris? It was too much. What if Ladybug and Chat noir didn’t fix everything? What if this was where her story ended. What if…

“Hey!”

The nurse turned to her attention to the voice. It was the brash blonde teen that was complaining.

“You look like you’re going to pass out. Just a heads up, I am not taking care of you.” Chloé commented.

Angela felt her face heat up with annoyance.

“Listen you brat. I don’t have time to deal with your attitude. I have a woman that is out cold from exhaustion in a building with a hostile akuma.”

“Good, at least you aren’t going to faint. I don’t need any more whinny women fainting on me”

The nurse paused, did the girl say that just to help her not succumb to the grim situation?

Chloé started making her way to the door.

“Hey, where are you going?”

“You already got your hands full with the annoying assistant. I need to make a call to daddy. So, I am going to head out the building and try there. Try not to get ripped apart by an akuma, I still need more ice when I get back.”

Angela blinked. This girl wasn’t scared of the akuma. She was actually going out to do something reasonable. If she could call for help, it would mean that this whole thing blows over.

“Okay, I’ll stay here. Be safe.”

“Yea whatever.”

Chloé headed out the door.

Angela felt a ghost of a smile grace her face.

‘Maybe that girl isn’t a complete brat after all.’

__________________________________________________

The shapeshifting sentimonster growled as it smacked the locker. It lost both primary targets. And worst of all, Ladybug appeared to make this even harder. Masquerade needed to hear about this.

“Master, Marinette and Adrien have escaped my sight.”

The sentimonster heard a sigh of disappointment from the other end.

“It is fine Simularé, They wont be able to escape the school anyway. They will be found soon enough. If anything, this is a blessing in disguise. Having them be the last targets will have them bare witness to how devasting it will all be.” Masquerade answered. “Any news on Ladybug and Chat noir?”

“That’s the other bad news. Ladybug arrived, I am assuming that’s how Marinette managed to escape, and ladybug also took Adrien away as well. No sign of chat noir. But if you know one is here, the other is likely soon to follow.”

There was a brief moment of silence, as masquerade mulled over the information she had received.

“Actually, that works out well for us. Meet up at my location, I have the other students out looking for them, I need your power for something more important.”

“Yes master.”

Simularé shifted back into its phantom form, moving quickly down the hallway to obey her master’s request.

Just as it left, Ladybug popped out of a nearby locker. Relieved it didn’t notice.

“That’s not good, Masquerade likely got everyone in the classroom.” The red heroine said aloud.

She activated her communicator and tried to contact chat noir. But there was no sound.

“Damn it. No signal. Lila likely cut the communication as soon as she realized it.?”

“No worries Buggaboo, I happen to be on site.” A voice called out.

Chat noir jumped out of another locker to reveal he was there.

Ladybug felt a bit of relief at her partner’s appearance. She could tell he felt the same. Better a situation with two heroes.

“Been here the whole time?” The spotted heroine asked her cat crimefighting comrade.

“Just arrived a few minutes ago, I figured something was up, so I decided to take a quick peek. Cat curiosity and all that.”

“And you assumed it was with Collège Françoise Dupont?”

“It seemed like a solid guess.”

“Considering the track record, that is reasonable.” Ladybug conceded.

“Ever wonder why it is always this school and never any of the other schools? Paris is a big city. You would think Hawkmoth would decide to branch out to the other schools in the city.” Chat noir inquired as they started walking down the hall.

“I assumed its just a coincidence.”

“Shot in the dark, maybe he has a kid that goes here. He is pretty old” Chat noir dissed.

“I can’t imagine anyone that would want to date Hawkmoth.” Ladybug joked.

“What about the blue lady? She seemed crazy enough.”

“And now that image is burned in my mind. Thanks kitty.” Ladybug sarcastically commented. “Despite the mental scarring, I am glad you got here. Seems a repeat offender got herself an upgrade in the akuma powers department.”

“Lila.”

“How did you know?”

“I was reading the ladyblog, Alya did great work on that article.” Chat noir praised. He mentally applauded his quick thinking.

“Right, kind of the reason I felt the need to keep an eye on this place. But sadly, I was too slow.” Ladybug responded a tad gloomy.

“Hey, don’t sweat it. We will finish this akuma before lunch.”

Ladybug heard a footstep from the end of the hallway.

“Get down!”

Ladybug tackled the cat hero down. Just narrowly avoiding a neon pause symbol, which now suck on the wall.

“Looks like Lila has been busy.” Chat noir noted as he turned his face to the direction of the attacker.

Ladybug looked at the akuma. The white mask covering her friend’s face. Lady Wifi was back.

“Alya…”

The two heroes got into a fighting stance and prepared to take down this controlled akuma.

________________________________________________

The halls were empty and lifeless as the two visiting teens made their way cautiously down the halls.

“Oddly quiet in here.” The fencer commented. “What do you think Luka?”

“Well last time we entered a place with an akuma in it, it was brimming with armored minions. Maybe this akuma has more stealth?” The Musician commented. “So, I don’t think you will be fighting as directly as you are use to Kagami.”

Kagami nodded at that, not exactly happy or sad regarding that remark. Her plan was to see if she could help her friends get out of the building, grab her textbook, and get out. She wasn’t really that interested in fighting a superpowered foe at this moment in time.

The two ceased speaking when they heard approaching footsteps.

“Someone’s coming.” Luka noted.

The two duck into the nearest room.

The two stayed close to the door as they listened to the sound of the approaching figure.

Kagami dropped to the floor silently as to check and see if she could get a visual.

She could only see what appeared to be costume boots of a larger figure. Which made the expert fencer believe it was not friendly.

The figure stopped, looking at the door. The two teens felt their neck hairs stand on edge as they did their best not to make a sound.

After what felt like an eternity, the figure passed the door without checking. Once the sound of his footsteps could no longer be heard, they let out a sigh of relief.

“That was way too close for comfort.”

“Agreed. I would prefer a direct confrontation next time, much less nerve-racking. “

The two carefully open the door and exit the room.

“Seems we found the akuma.” Luka commented. “Now we just need to avoid it and.”

“You mean akumas.” Kagami corrected.

“Akumas?”

Kagami tilted the boys head to look in the same direction she was looking, and sure enough she saw a rather large rock like creature walking the halls.

“Oh… well that is bad.”

Kagami pushed him back into the room and closed the door. Locking it before the rock giant could notice them.

“I’m surprised.”

“By the fact there is an 8-foot-tall rock beast outside?”

“No, by the fact you didn’t try to fight it.”

“I don’t have a weapon.” Kagami replied flatly.

Luka raised a brow at the comment, unsure if the fencer was serious or not about fighting that thing if she had a foil.

“Is something wrong?” A third voice came from behind them.

The two teens turned around, preparing for the worst. Though they were relieved to see it was just an old janitor… in a Hawaiian shirt. Despite his odd dress, he did give off a kind aura. One of a trusting old grandpa.

They noticed that the room seemed to be a sort of teacher’s lounge, with a small counter with a sink and cabinets. As well as a fridge to keep food cold and stored. A place in the school where teachers would come to get a quick coffee or store their lunch.

“Oh good, you aren’t an akuma.” Luka sighed with relief.

“An akuma?” The old man asked.

“Yes, it is very dangerous out there right now. There are multiple villains outside. I would recommend staying put while we go out there and help handle things.” Kagami explained.

“Quite bold of you to go out there against those monsters.” The man responded.

“Don’t worry, we will be careful. We just need to make sure we can get as many people out as we can so Ladybug and Chat noir won’t need to worry.”

“Ah, how selfless of you. You both seem quite capable for ones so young.”

“You’re very kind, but we are just doing what we can. Our friends are out there and they need our help.”

Kagami goes to the door. Checking to ensure the coast is clear again.

The old man pats the musician’s shoulder.

“I am sure you two will figure a way to help your friends.”

“There are too many outside this room.” Kagami grumbled. If only I had a way to fight them.”

The mysterious janitor smiled.

“Say… I did happen to see Ladybug earlier.”

The two teens turned their attention to the old man.

“You did?” they asked in unison.

“Yes, she happened to drop something while rushing. Would you two be so kind as to return them to her when you see her.”

The two of them glance at each other and shrug. The old janitor might be senile.

“Sure… We can give it to her.” Luka assured the old man, trying to remain polite.

The old man moves to a closet, where out of view of the two teens, an elaborate chest with the symbol of the guardian’s decorates the top. He quickly gets two smaller boxes and closes the closet.

“Ah! Here they are.”

He hands the two a small box each. Their eyes go wide.

“They seemed important, so I didn’t want to just leave them on the floor. But I have a feeling you two will take good care of them.”

The two teens were engrossed by the boxes in their hands. They recognized them immediately. These were the boxes Ladybug used when handing out miraculous.

“Where did you find…?” Kagami tried to question, but noticed the old man was no longer there.

“He’s gone…”

“Actually, I am over here.”

The teens look in the opposite direction they were looking in order to see him at the end of the room getting a snack from the fridge.

The duo decided that maybe this old guy wasn’t all there after all and figured it would be best to go somewhere and utilize the ‘gift’ they were just given.

“Stay in the lounge where it’s safe okay?” Luka asked politely.

“Of course. I am not paid if I am not working.”

The two teens checked the door again, and once the coast was clear. They both slipped out of the room.

After he knew they were out of sight, the old man chuckled.

“The senile routine works every time.”

“Master, you really cut it close with that one.” A small turtle creature exclaimed as he popped out from the closet.

“The universe works in mysterious ways Wayzz. What are the odds that there would be an attack on the school the very day I decide to hide out as a janitor?”

“Considering the frequency of akuma attacks, very likely.”

“True, but how about running into two individuals that Marinette had picked to be heroes.” Fu followed up.

“That is quite a coincidence.”

The guardian pulled out his phone and noticed he didn’t have a signal.

“It seems I can’t get a signal to notify her of the reinforcements I sent her way. Likely it would be the same on her end. So, it is a good thing I acted in advance.”

Fu moved to the closet where he kept the miraculous.

“I can’t help but shake the feeling Ladybug and Chat noir will need all of the help they can get.

“Don’t worry master, I am sure Ladybug and Chat noir will be successful.

“Let us keep an eye on things. They might need another ally to turn the tide.

________________________________________________________

“I am guessing you are also familiar with what’s inside here?” Kagami inquired as the two stealthily moved in the hall.

“I may be familiar with it.” Luka commented.

Kagami contemplated the statement. She figured out the truth.

“Seems we both have used a miraculous then?”

“It appears we have. Though I am not sure Ladybug will be thrilled that someone knows I have helped her.”

“I understand the sentiment. Though lets simply agree to keep it between us.” Kagami answered. “Friends do keep secrets like that if I’m correct.”

Luka smiled at the comment.

“Your secret is safe with me.” Luka assured.

“As is yours.”

The two found the locker room and quickly moved inside.

“Coast is clear.”

The two opened the boxes and as they did two magical creatures appeared in front of them.

A floating creature with multiple spikes appeared in front of the fencer, while another floating creature that resembled a cobra stood in front of luka.

“It is a pleasure to see you again Mistress Kagami.”

“It’s been too long, Longg.” Kagami smiled. Happy to see her kwami friend.

“Hello Luka, itssss been a while.” The snake kwami greeted.

“Happy to see you too Sass.” Luka fist bumped his kwami.

The kwamis stop and turn to see the other kwami there.

“Does Ladybug know about this?” They both ask in unison.

“We will inform her after. Right now, there is a lot of danger.” Kagami exclaimed. “Ladybug needs our help.”

The two kwami nod and prepare to fight.

“Consssider us accomplissses.” Sass answered.

The two teens put on the miraculous.

“Sass! Scales Slither.”

“Longg! Bring the storm”

The two teens transform into their heroic alter egos.

Kagami shifting into the dragon miraculous hero Ryuuko, and Luka changing into the Snake hero Viperion.

The two stop to glance at the other.

“So, what should I call you.” The snake hero asked curiously.

“Call me Ryuuko. And what about you mister snake?”

“Viperion is what I am going with.”

“Fitting.”

“As is yours.”

The two give a nod of comradery before making their way out of the locker room. They had to go help Ladybug.

__________________________________________________

Ladybug dashed across the hallway, avoiding pause symbols being flung at her by the conniving akuma.

She slid underneath one of the symbols and preformed a daring slide kick to knock Lady Wifi off balance.

While she was unstable, Chat noir charged and used his baton to make contact with her white mask. Believing it was the obvious weak point.

“Got it!” Chat noir exclaimed triumphantly. The strike of the staff knocking Ladywifi a good several meters. Before lying flat on her back.

“Wow, that is a tough mask. I thought for sure that was the weak point.” Chat noir commented.

Lady Wifi stood up robotically.

“There must be a way to snap her out of it. Unless Hawkmoth is learning from his mistakes.” Ladybug hypothesized as she got up from the ground.

“Well I got nothing.” Chat noir shrugged.

Another set of footsteps approaching caught the hero’s attention. The recognized the multicolored bubble maker the moment they saw him.

“Nino… You too?” Chat noir said under his breath.

The Bubble maker used his bubble wand to summon two large bubbles to capture the heroes. Bringing back flashbacks of their first encounter with the bubble akuma.

Chat noir and Ladybug expertly slide between the gaps of the attack, resulting in Lady Wifi getting hit with the large bubbles and being sent flying into the wall via bubble prison.

Chat noir lunged at the Bubbler, his quick pounce pinning him down before he could attack.

“Maybe I can destroy his mask with…”

“Wait Chat noir!” Ladybug called out.

Chat noir paused.

“What if your cataclysm doesn’t free him?”

“And then I am left without the power before a recharge.”

“Exactly. We need to hold off on using our powers right now.”

Chat noir wanted to save his friend. But he knew his partner was right. They needed to conserve their powers before facing Lila.

The Bubbler managed to get the cat hero off of him with a burst of strength. Knocking Chat noir to the ground.

Lady Wifi had gotten free from the bubble attack and was now blocking the other entrance.

Ladybug and Chat noir moved back to back, Ladybug facing the ladyblogger turned mindless akuma slave and Chat noir facing the akumatized DJ.

“Any ideas, Buggaboo?”

“Seems they can’t adapt. They are pretty much mindless slaves. Which makes sense since Lila wouldn’t want them to think for themselves.”

“So you’re saying their movements are simple.”

“Which means they are exploitable.”

Chat noir felt relief watch over him. He knew Ladybug had a plan.

_____________________________________________________

“EWWWW!” Chloé screeched in disgust. The front entrance to the school had been covered in a pink slime.

She wiped her hand on the cleanest section of wall she could find. This was not her day.

“What is with this nasty gross akuma? First, I can’t call Daddy to come and pick me up. I can’t even post about it! How will Ladybug know to save me? Or better yet, get me the bee miraculous so I can help her save the day?”

Chloé decided to try another exit, since she had no plans of sticking around without knowing if she was going to be given a miraculous or not. Plus, she did say she would call for help, and doing that would make her look good in potential hero points.

As she was walking, she bumps into something in the middle of the hall. Which was bizzare since the hall was clear.

“Ouch, right on my bruise. What the hell is…”

Chloé felt her anger shift to fear when she watched as the empty hall now contained a familiar akuma.

“Sabrina?”

The akuma turned to her, her face covered with a white face mask.

“Eww. Your akuma form looks even tacker than before.”

“Take potential akuma to master.” The akumatized Sabrina stated in an emotionless tone. Repeating the order, she had been given.

“Oh no you don’t! Sabrina, I order you to listen to me!”

The akuma ignored the blonde’s command and slowly walked towards her.

“Sabrina… I am warning you. I am going to yell at you over this later if you don’t stop right now.”

Chloé started slowly backing away. She wasn’t sure of what to do.

“Listen… if you stop right now… I’ll uh… let you take a pick of one of my old sweaters.” Chloé bargained, not intending to let her pick one of the ones she actually liked.

Chloé felt her hand touch the sealed door, and knew she was at the end of the hall. She was boxed in.

“This is so unacceptable.” Chloé stated, preparing to get captured. But a flash of Red and Black came out of nowhere and kicked the akuma hard to the wall.

“Ladybug! I knew you would like save me!” Chloé jumped and hugged her savior.

“Im not ladybug.” The heroine spoke.”

Chloé released the hug as she examined who her savior was.

“Who the hell are you?”

Chloé had never bothered to learn the names of any of the other miraculous heroes. She sometimes forgets chat noir’s name.

“Ryuuko.” The dragon heroine stated calmly, almost regretting saving Chloé.

“Did Ladybug send you? Cause it would have been better if she got me to help.”

Ryuuko decided to ignore Chloé’s comment.

“Now we need to leave before she… Where did she go?” Looking at the dented locker that no longer had an akuma lying on the ground.

Suddenly the akuma popped out of nowhere about to strike from above with her tonfa and steal Ryuuko’s powers, but was stopped when a small harp smacked her face.

“She appears to have invisibility.” A voice called out.

The two turn to see the snake hero as he caught his harp on the rebound.

Chloé took a moment to look over the snake hero. She had to admit, he was pretty cute. Not Adrien cute, maybe she would start learning the names of the other heroes.

“Quick thinking Viperion.” Ryuuko thanked the snake teen.

“Just following your lead.” Viperion responded. The two giving eachother a respectful smile. They both seemed to have gotten used to working together.

The akuma got up. Its white face mask making the akuma’s expression unreadable. But its body language exuded rage.

“Seems we aren’t going anywhere until she is taken care of.” Ryuuko said as she stared down the akuma.

Viperion turned to chloé.

“You need to go and get to safety.”

“Okay!” Chloé says as she runs off.

“How come she didn’t give you any sass?”

“Because I already have him.”

Kagami had to admit that was a clever response.

“Not what I meant, but Chat noir would love that joke.”

“I will be sure to tell him it later.”

“Stick to playing guitar. You’re a better musician than comedian.”

Before they could get off anymore banter. The akuma went for another attack.

________________________________________________________

Simularé entered Ms.Bustier’s classroom.

“I am here.” The ghostly sentimonster announced.

“Excellent.”

The sentimonster looked up to see that the classroom it was expeciting to see had been altered into what appeared to be a rather glamourous throne room. The windows covered by white curtains with the design of an akuma in black. The platforms and stairs had been altered to be marble. And at the top, where Lila’s desk once was was now a golden throne akin to something one would see in a castle. Though despite the impressive change in the classroom it was still being designed. The akuma known as the evillustrator was still creating more furnishings for the room.

“Simulare, I have an order for you.” Masquerade stated as she sat on the new throne. Clearly confident in her position.

The sentimonster approached her master. Stopping only a few feet away.

“I want you to create a mirage over the school. Since Ladybug is already in the school. It would be best if you made sure no one notices whats happening here. I don’t need any additional heroes popping in yet. Let’s handle her before making things public.”

Simularé nodded.

“Understood. But what should we do if she…”

“I have everything under control. Just follow my orders.”

Simularé ceased her questioning.

“As you wish master.”

The sentimonster shifted into her Volpina form and headed out of the classroom.

“She is getting arrogant in her power. If things do go south, I will need to step in.” Simularé said to herself. But for now, she knew she had a role to play.

_____________________________________________________________

And that ends part 34.

Seems things are REALLY heating up. Will Viperion and Ryuuko be able to help Ladybug and Chat noir?

Will Ladybug and Chat noir be able to get through to their brainwashed friends?

Will Masquerade's gambit be enough for her to get her vengeance?

Whats Simularé's deal?

Find out by staying tuned and sharing. Remember Reblogs help content creators and if you do enjoy my content, the support really does help

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southeastasianists · 3 years

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In the lush jungle of Malaysia’s Penang Island, a primate makes its way through the forest’s canopy. A layer of fog sits among the trees and the humid smell of damp soil—mixed with excrement near the primates’ recent locations—lingers, while the sounds of cicadas, birds, and other forest animals reverberate. “It’s always noisy in the forest,” says researcher Jieh Long Koh, project executive for Langur Project Penang (LPP).

The endangered dusky langur (Trachypithecus obscurus) reaches out to grasp a narrow line in the trees, deftly moving its 15-pound body across a busy street in Teluk Bahang via Malaysia’s first urban canopy bridge. The langur’s face is dotted with white latex from the sticky fruit of the Terap Nasi (Artocarpus elasticus), and when it reaches the other side, it disappears into the patch of forest in search of earleaf acacia, wild cherry, bird nest fern, Chinese violet, Ceylon cinnamon, blue pea flower, an assortment of figs, and other plants to eat.

Penang Island is one of the most densely populated areas in the world, with 1,663 people per square kilometer, and population numbers are expected to rise exponentially by 2035. The busy road the langur crossed in Teluk Bahang is one of the island’s vital arteries. Like the roadways, the arboreal route that helped the creature safely traverse the street and journey from one patch of habitat to another was human-made. It was fashioned from recycled fire hoses—part of Langur Project Penang’s work to help animals including the dusky langur. To drivers zooming by 40 feet below, the animals’ dark fur, with light-colored patches around its eyes and mouth, appears as little more than a speck.

Jo Leen Yap is LPP’s founder and director, and a PhD student at Universiti Sains Malaysia. She began focusing on dusky langurs about five years ago, when she noticed many were spending time close to the road, often climbing across on electrical wires and sometimes perishing from electrocution, collisions with vehicles, or falls. She began the LPP citizen science group as a simple Facebook page, but word quickly spread, and more people became involved with the canopy bridge project as well as other research and environmental education work.

She sees the canopy bridge as part of a broader effort to help people and wildlife live in harmony. “We really hope that the canopy bridge is not just to connect the fragments in a large area or even for the roads and highways, but also a conservation tool [to] reduce human-primate conflict,” Yap says. “The ultimate goal is to bridge the gap between humans and urban wildlife.”

The canopy bridge in Teluk Bahang is dubbed “Ah Lai’s Crossing” in honor of an alpha male langur researchers studied there. It’s crafted from retired fire hoses from the Fire and Rescue Department of Malaysia (known as Bomba) given to collaborators at APE (Animal Project & Environmental Education) Malaysia. Other materials, such as bamboo and nylon, were also considered, but the designers opted for fire hoses because they hold up even in rain and monsoons. An engineer tested them to make sure they’d be reliable, performing a tensile strength test on unused portions of fire hose as well as used, twisted portions that were kept in conditions similar to those at the bridge site.

The bridge spans the 40-foot-wide road with a few extra feet on each side. One end is affixed 40 feet up in a tree—which an arborist confirmed was healthy and stable—while the other end is attached to a steel pole on the other side. A camera on the pole keeps a watchful eye. “The fire hose itself can withstand a lot of weight as long as we check it regularly,” Yap says, noting that she inspects it every time she visits to collect SD cards. The team plans to conduct tests at least once a year to ensure the fire hose and tree stay strong and to analyze how fast the hose materials degrade in the environment.

The original design—a single rope of twisted fire hose—was installed in February 2019. Just four days later, a long-tailed macaque was the first animal recorded crossing. The arboreal animals were used to traversing the road in other ways (such as by trees, cable wires, or the road), so it took them a bit to warm up to the new alternative. But they soon figured it out.

Between March 2019 and August 2020, the camera trap captured a total of 779 animals—mainly plantain squirrels and long-tailed macaques—crossing the bridge. While the shyer dusky langurs rested and fed nearby, they weren’t as keen to use the original crossing.

In August 2020, LPP reinforced the bridge. Now, it consists of two parallel ropes of twisted firehose—one installed a few feet higher than the other—connected by additional ropes, creating a structure resembling a horizontal ladder spanning the roadway. Dusky langurs are now seen using the modified crossing more frequently, though LPP is still crunching the numbers.

The Penang Island canopy bridge project is just one of many wildlife crossing structures around the world, including Banff National Park’s famous overpasses and underpasses for ungulates, bears, and other large animals. Adam Ford, assistant professor of wildlife restoration ecology at University of British Columbia, says before these were installed, there were many collisions between wildlife—particularly elk—and vehicles in the park. “They called it the meat grinder—it was bad for people, bad for animals,” Ford says. Combined with fencing, these structures have drastically reduced collisions in the park.

Different species have distinct structure preferences. Grizzly bears and wolves seem to like overpasses, while cougars prefer underpasses. Even different age classes and sexes of animals have varying preferences. “It can be quite nuanced,” Ford says. Other types of crossings around the world include culverts for small mammals, aquatic designs for fish and amphibians, aerial bridges for gibbons, and even power poles for sugar gliders in Australia.

“I think the main message is there is no real ‘one size fits all’ solution for getting animals across the road,” Ford says. “The best way to design a crossing structure is to try to think about what in ecology we call the life history needs, the species-specific needs, the types of locomotion they have.” He says ideally crossings would “mimic the types of structures that animals would interact with in a more natural setting—that’s the key.” Langurs naturally use tree branches to make their way through the forest, so the human-built structure allows them to make similar movements to get across the road. The color of the fire hose also evokes the appearance of a local tree.

Since early 2020, pandemic-related movement-control orders in Malaysia have prevented LPP from conducting some of the fieldwork they planned to study wildlife at potential sites for future crossing structures. Yap’s team hopes to install additional bridges, but they need to observe species movement for at least three months at a potential site, and the locations they’re considering are scattered, including places on the mainland. The team is also looking to incorporate speed bumps and signage to help slow vehicles near crossings.

Each project involves a lengthy process of surveying, tabulating data, gaining necessary approvals and permits, and a multitude of meetings. Yap hopes they can gain approval for their next bridge later this year or next year. She is hopeful their work will help promote human-wildlife harmony while saving animals’ lives, but she emphasizes that protecting the animals’ domain is the ultimate goal. “It doesn’t mean that this is the perfect solution,” Yap says. “The perfect solution is still to safeguard the habitat.”

#Southeast Asia #Malaysia #Animals #Ecology

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

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For mermay, #25 siren for Sternclay, rating up to you? Thank you so much, I love your fics!

Here you go! I went with SFW and it's set in the same universe as the other siren prompt I got this year

Joseph has sailed so far over the horizon of regret that he’s landed right back on the shores of resolve.

The highway curves through low mountains, extends in interminable straight lines of super-heated asphalt, and he drives both stretches with purpose, eyes fixed on his goal so as not to see the last forty-eight hours lurking in his rearview mirror.

When the sign reading “Kepler: Population 3,000 on land, 50 in water” reflects the setting sun he slumps back in the driver seat, too tired to be glad, excited, afraid, or anything else at all.

He passes the Cryptonomica, proclaiming itself the premier place to learn about the Roadside Sirens. Rolling his eyes means he nearly misses the drawbridge warning, the barrier dropping and bridge rising to allow a small sailboat to pass. It’s aboard this he sees his first siren; dappled tail hanging in the water as she converses with the other passenger and waves to the siren working the bridge.

The bridge lowers and he continues forward as the early evening overtakes the main road. Neon crackles to life, creosote and rabbitbrush drift through the window when he rolls it down. The sign on Amnesty Lodge declares vacancies, so he pulls into the parking lot. It’s a strange lay-out, little cabins dotting the patches of pools that, once upon a time, must have been enclosed in rooms. Now they glisten under the emerging stars, some surrounded by lawn chairs and set ups to play horseshoes or cornhole. The building housing the lobby is precariously perched on the bank of the slow flowing river, another building whose neon is unlit sitting beside it. He pays the young lady at the counter for a week to week cabin and lugs the remainders of his life inside.

In the bathroom mirror, the wear of this trip is clear in the wrinkles on his suit and the dust on his shoes. He strips down, rinses off, and heads into the night in his shorts and T-shirt from Puget Sound. On a whim he turns right, follows a trail that leads him into the state park. He pays the five dollar fee in a little envelope as he continues on his way. Just as he reaches a scenic viewpoint, the singing starts.

Joseph can’t see any of the singers, can only pick up six or so distinct voices swirling around him.

It’s said the roadside sirens will tell you what you need.

It’s said the roadside sirens are the only way Kepler gets new residents

It’s said the roadside sirens will lead you to your hearts desire.

It’s said the roadside sirens are not always gentle.

All that tugs at Joseph’s heart is exhaustion. When footsteps creak across the boards behind him, he turns to find a man in a ranger uniform. Their eyes meet a moment and the man nods in greeting, “Evenin sir, you got any questions?”

“What do you hear when they sing?”

The ranger shrugs, “I hear them singin’. Never been all that susceptible to ‘em. Well, except for one, but he don’t sing all that often and the last time it was to tell me he missed me while I was out here workin’.”

Joseph raises an eyebrow. The man comes close enough for him to see his name tag. All it says is, “Duck.”

Duck chuckles, leans his arms on the railing, “S’okay, most folks don’t believe me when I tell ‘em that. See, thing about sirens is, you gotta have unfulfilled desires for the song to take hold. First time I was in Kepler, didn’t have a goddamn clue what I wanted from life. When I came back, found the two things I wanted right away. Been pretty content since.” He glances at Joseph, “why, you hear somethin that worries you?”

“I don’t hear anything besides-”

A burst of blue and orange light spills across them; the building beside Amnesty Lodge has come to life, and Joseph can see a line out the door from here. More importantly, someone is singing and his body moves towards the source without him noticing.

“I mean, if your main want is you’re hungry, Lodge is a damn good place to start. Put Kepler on the map. Or, uh, guess the sirens put it there and the Lodge kept it there once the novelty wore off.

“Uhumm” Joseph nods, waving an absentminded goodnight as he follows the path back to the Lodge. He’s about to join the others waiting to get through the door when he gets a flash of an image; a draft on a desk, announcing the Lodge needed a cooks assistant.

What the hell, it’s worth a try right?

A knock on the back door summons an older man in a “Joshua Tree” shirt.

“Howdy, if you’re lookin for the line-”

“I’m here about the assistant job.”

“Uhh, o-kay. Not the best time for it, but follow me.”

The man leads him down a set of stairs to a kitchen that is half in and half out of the water in a way that defies logic and physics. Swimming about are several sirens, plus two humans on the shore, cooking and sending food up to the main building in a dance that borders on chaos. In the middle of it all is a siren with a deep copper tail that matches his short beard and long hair tied back in a bun.

“Barclay! You got a minute?”

“Not really!”

“Okay then. I’ll just have this fella wait in your office until dinner rush is over.”

“Sure great yeah Moira wheres the crawfish for table ten?”

Which is how Joseph finds himself sitting in a cabin, twiddling his thumbs. His manners fight his boredom until he pulls a paperback from the nearby shelf and loses himself in the exploits of a someone recreating dishes from ancient civilizations. Doesn’t look up until the door opens and the same man, now with legs instead of that beautiful tail, walks in.

“Phew” he shuts the door with a satisfied smile, rests his head on the wood, then whirls and slams his back against it when Joseph clears his throat.

“GAHWHATTHEFUCK”

“I’m, I’m so sorry, I thought you heard, um, Thacker, tell you he was having me wait here.”

“W-wait here for wh--Oh, oh right, the assistant thing.” The siren scrubs his face, “yeah, uh, guess Mama must've put the ad out. Uh, would you say you’re organized?”

“Extremely. But honestly it doesn’t seem like you need that much help on that front.”

A deep, rich laugh, “I cleaned this morning, last night it looked like an earthquake hit this place. Guessing from the fact you didn’t freak out in the kitchen you’re cool with the supernatural?”

“Yes. It’s an area of interest for me.”

There’s suspicion in Barclay’s voice, hidden but very much present, “why’d you end up in Kepler?”

“I came here on purpose. I wanted to be somewhere where strange things were celebrated and out in the open. Not...not kept from the world.”

Barclay leans back on his desk, arms crossed, “Where’d you work before now?”

“The…” he sighs, resigns himself to finding somewhere else to go, “the FBI. UP branch, I was at Nellis when they, um, relieved me of my duties.”

For a long moment, Barclay studies him. Then he turns to his desk, setting stacks of papers in order as he hums. Joseph closes his eyes, takes calming breaths; all he wants is to be safe, to not have to run. All he wants is for Barclay to hold him, he’s never seen a man so handsome and a useless, primal part of him fixates on that fact. Also he’s starving, god, he hasn’t eaten since his breakfast of black coffee.

Barclay stops humming, “Come with me.”

Joseph follows him back down into the strange kitchen (“couple of friends of mine are pretty powerful magicians. They rigged up the kitchen for me”). All the lights are off, and without them he discovers Barclay’s eyes glow an eerie yellow-green. When he smiles, Joseph sees only the points on his teeth, not the crinkle at the edge of his eyes.

“Hungry?” Barclay rumbles.

“Starving.”

“You eat fish?”

“...Yes?” Will the wrong answer get him drowned.

The cook leaps towards the water, tail appearing and clothes vanishing at the last moment before he hits the dark surface. Joseph stands, on edge and curious, until the siren emerges, newly-dead trout in his hands.

“Tastes best fresh.” Barclay swims to his grill, turning it on in a click of a knob.

“Why not just stay human when you cook?” Joseph makes his way over to the station as Barclay butchers the fish and sets it into a heavily buttered pan.

“The charm only holds for so long before I need to be back in the water, and I get so busy during meals I don’t want to risk passing out because I went too long on shore. Besides” he spins elegantly to grab two spice jars, “I learned to cook in the water, so this is the most natural way for me.”

“Fascinating.” Joseph sits down, keeping himself out of arms reach of the water. Barclay seems nice, but sirens did not become famous for offering people things and then following through; hundreds of dead travelers prove that much.

“Where are you from?”

“Chicago, originally.”

“Ever see the great lake mers?”

“No.” He can’t help but feel disappointed that he’s only learning of their existence now.

“Quite a few out there. Sirens too.”

Well, that introduces some new reasons for all the shipwrecks.

“How do you know? Are you from there?”

“Nah. Been in Kepler my whole life. Even during the bad years, singing people into that godawful, overpriced casino buffet. Convincing them the shitty cold cuts were prime rib.” His hand stills a moment, clenches and then releases, “yeah. Every now and then” he starts chopping shallots, “one of the drunks would get it into their heads to pet the sirens tail or hair and I had to sit there and let them. My tail” he shudders, swipes the shallots into the pan so roughly Joseph starts.

“Sorry.” Barclay mumbles.

“Don’t be. I’m on edge, that’s all. And you have every right to be angry. Being forced to do something you know is wrong is....there’s no winning.”

“That why you just want a place to feel safe?”

It’s so easy to confess in the darkness of the cave.

“I put up too much of a fight about something. Refused to do something that went against my conscience. They let me go, which I feared but expected. Then I found my bank accounts were cut off and someone had manipulated the records to say I’d been fired for criminal activity so it’d be harder to find a job.”

A clink of metal on china, and then Barclay is holding a plate out to him with tenderness in his eyes, “I’m so sorry, Joseph. Here, at least you won’t be hungry.”

Joseph murmurs out his thanks.

“You a wine drinker?”

“Right now I could certainly go for some.”

A few flicks of that stunning tail and Barclay returns with a glass of white for each of them.

“To getting free of shitty pasts.” The cook raises his glass and Joseph bumps his against it. Barclay brings it to his lips, but smiles rather than sip, “and by the way: you got the job.”

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

Being Barclay’s assistant is fifty percent clerical work and fifty percent following the siren around as he gathers ingredients or tests recipes. On Ned Chicane’s recommendation, Barclay had published a cookbook of both traditional siren foods and his own creations. It became a bestseller which, among other things, means Joseph has a brand new wardrobe, regular deliveries of gourmet food, and his cabin is now full of books. Whenever he points out that Barclay is already paying him and doesn’t need to buy him things, the siren simply rubs their cheeks together (a thing Joseph is only now getting used to) and tells him he likes doing it.

So when he’s not getting his recipes in order or typing up scribbled note cards into something legible, he’s following Barclay on foot or in a boat while he harvests or buys ingredients. Sirens have permission to fish and forage in areas, including the park, that humans don’t, which means he runs into Duck and his siren husband, Indrid, on more than one occasion while hauling lines into the boat.

The one time it gets stuck, Barclay pulls it out all on his own. Almost like he’s showing off the muscles in his back, arms, and tail.

The only thing Joseph won’t do is get in the water with the siren. He can’t get the images of drowned sailors, of fishermen torn to shreds, from his mind. Barclay is powerful, sharp-toothed and slit-pupiled, dangerous yet so gentle he once purred when Joseph complimented his food. And if Joseph never goes in the water with him, he’ll never have to confront the fact he wouldn’t mind if those pointed teeth dug into his skin and that tail trapped his legs while he thrashed in Barclay’s hold.

He assumes Barclay doesn’t notice; after all, swamps and marshes, even the river, are far less suited to a human swimming in them than an ocean or lake. This conclusion is bolstered by Barclay never, ever asking him to join him in the water. The siren is less careful about singing; he usually just hums as he works, but sometimes he sings wordlessly and Joseph nearly dives head first into the water (Barclay’s lap, if they’re on land).

Tonight, he’s cleaning up after Barclay’s test session of new recipes in the kitchen. The cook went out to visit some friends who live further in the state park, so when his voice drifts across the stones Joseph is surprised.

Cool, calloused hands on his cheeks, a tail stroking his thighs, his lips tracing up a sturdy leg. Copper hair twined in his fingertips, a heart beating in time with his own, teeth sinking into his skin, marking him, claiming him.

Water fills his nose and his body jerks back to the present, standing up in the shallow water that he stepped and stumbled face-first into.

“Joseph? Oh fuck, are you okay?” Barclay rounds the corner, swimming over to look up at him with concern.

“Yes. I, um, I think I got caught up in your song.”

“I’m sorry, I thought you were already upstairs or I wouldn’t have sung so loud. I know you can’t swim.”

“I can.” Joseph kneels, face down-turned in shame, “I was scared to, um, to be in the water with you. It’s, I was afraid of what might happen.”

Barlay swims back, “you thought I was gonna eat you?”

“No! Or, um, at first I didn’t want to foolishly assume that sirens in Kepler were harmless, since death isn’t high on my to-do list. Then I thought suddenly starting to swim would tip you off to the fact I’d been suspicious and I didn’t want to hurt you.” He runs a hand through his hair, “that song, though, Barclay, lord almighty is that what I want?”

“It’s what I want, I never sang it to bring you to me.”

“Oh.”

Barclay swims back to him, rubs their cheeks together, “Can I try something?”

“Anything” is all he gets out before he’s pulled into deeper water. He gasps for air, his own moans ricocheting across the room as Barclay bites his shoulder. On instinct his body tries to tread water, but copper scales trap his legs together, keep him flush against Barclay’s body.

“It’s okay babe, you can relax. I got you, I could keep us both afloat in my sleep.” He hums as he trails his lips across Joseph’s throat, “you’re safe. You’re with me.”

“Don’t make me leave.” The song pulls it out of him, because he wants to say it, wants to admit that losing what he has in Kepler terrifies him, just so he can hear-

“Never. You make me so fucking happy.” Barclay kisses him tenderly, keeps tracking his bite marks with a finger, “please stay. Stay for as long as you want."

"What if I want forever?" He rests his face on Barclay's shoulder as the siren spins them, dance-like, in the water.

"I think we can manage that."

#mermay #sternclay #agent stern/barclay #TAZ Amnesty

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tilekale2 · 3 years

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Ready Reckoner To Train Travel In India

Now most china cities can be reached by trains, issue it is fast train or slow one, topic it is direct trains to big cities or trains running between two small nearby cities. Traveling by rail is convenient and shard. Unlike travel recommendation between bologna to modena with distinct national railway, Britain has twenty private rail marketers. But all are coordinated by National Rail. They oversee fares, ticketing, and schedules. An individual need specific information about British trains, you'll find it on their website. The growth of the highway system inside of United States helped globe growth of road train trips, especially ones that went from coast to district. The development of Route 66 in 1926, which was finished around the end among the 1930s, 'paved' the way of road tripping in the actual. Road tripping in the 1930s and 1940s was over to travel cross country for holidays or merely move their residence out west. Now the train journey was great as usual, takes about 12 to 14 hours to find yourself at Hat Yai. About an hour or so and a half before dealing with Hat Yai you will reach the border traversing. This is pretty simple to complete, the train stops in the border station and every body get out of. Some travelers get their belongings some don't, bear in mind it can be a border crossing and generally want appear through your cases or bags. train travel is popular in China though does have an extensive coach network. Keep in mind you could fly but that would actually defeat the main purpose of visiting China - fulfill the people. Train travel is reliable, fast and less costly. "Soft" sleeping compartments either for four or on some routes for 2 persons can be found or if you want to join the locals try the "hard" class, but if you aren't on a tight budget, it's not recommended. travel recommendation between bologna to parma will need assistance buying the rail tickets as few station staff speak Esl. The timetables and options could be complex. Ask a travel agency with China experience to assist. Shopping in Snowdonia is really a heady mix of high street giants, quirky independents and everything regarding. Of travel recommendation between bologna to piombino , you can visit chain stores wherever you go, but some of Snowdonia's tiny retailers are one-branch affairs, far better for it. Car Train engines. Just drive your car onto the train, have the train take everyone from city to city & drive off at your destination. To assist diminish destruction to the planet, the train routes should be entirely enclosed in a metal mesh enables fresh air and sensational looking doesn't let animals around the tracks where they become hit. Comprehensive roof of the trainways always be covered in solar panels - miles of them. All of the energy to run the trains would are taken from the solar panels over the train tracks. Sitges: The coastal capital of scotland- Sitges also attracts many tourists that can also be reached by train in roughly one an hour. The town is considered for its beaches and resorts and it a haven for party lovers. Its carnivals are famous in country and also the tourists often make the effort to visit Sitges for carnival the moment.

#travel

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wonderfulworldofmichaelford · 3 years

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Michael in the Mainstream: Crash Bandicoot

Reviewing video games is not my forte. Like, sure, I can review the Metal Gear franchise because it’s near and dear to my heart and it’s incredibly story driven to a cinematic degree, but I’m not super good at touching on game design or any of that. I stick with movies. But then there are a lot of games I love and want to talk about, such as this game, Crash Bandicoot, and it’s like, how do I talk about this? This is a platformer that is very light on plot and is more about precision platforming than anything, and I’m just not really good at talking about gameplay.

But I’ve come up with a solution! One that I plan to use going forward for a few other games, too! I’ll start with a few paragraphs with my basic overview of the game, and then I will do a ranking of my favorite levels, and then how I’d rank the bosses. I’m much better at talking why I enjoy the challenge of specific elements of games like these then I am talking about the game as a whole, so let’s see how this turns out.

Crash Bandicoot was the first video game I ever played, and so is extremely near and dear to my heart. It’s a rather simple game, a “save the girl” platforming adventure in the vein of something like Mario, where an intrepid hero travels through platforming challenges to save the love of his life from an evil mastermind, though as the main character is a furry animal with a bit of 90s ‘tude, and his archenemy is a mad scientist who utilizes cyborgs to stop you, there’s a dash of Sonic in here too. Being a simple platforming game like this, you’d think there wouldn’t be all that much to the story… but surprisingly, that’s not totally the case (although the story is still relatively simple to later entries).

Crash was meant to be the ultimate soldier in Dr. Neo Cortex’s army of evil marsupials and other assorted critters, an army he presumably was going to use for world domination. After rigorous training, Crash was set to be brainwashed and turned into a mindless slave, but something got screwed up and Crash remained a good, heroic guy. He ended up chased out a window and washed up on the beach of a nearby island, and set out to save his buxom, big booty bandicoot babe Tawna from the creepy clutches of the cantankerous Cortex, causing chaos and crushing crates as he went along. The manual included with the original version of the game actually outlined sort of a little story for the first island, showing how the levels involved Crash infiltrating a native village, defeating its leader, and then riding a hog to escape on his way to the next island. It’s kind of fun and imaginative, and the next island keeps it up, with Crash having to brave ancient ruins to make it to the volcano on the other side of the island, before finally going through Cortex’s toxic power plant, causing a reactor meltdown, and climbing Cortex’s castle to confront him as his island burns to the ground. It’s a fun, simple story that’s not too challenging on the mind while still being engaging.

Perhaps the best thing about the game is the music, which was done by Josh Mancell with the assistance of Mark Mothersbaugh’s Mutato Muzika production company. Let’s not beat around the bush here: Every single track in this game slaps. Basically every track in the original trilogy slaps, but I feel pound for pound this game just hits all the right notes with its music. It perfectly sets the tone for each level, with eerie levels like Slippery Climb getting foreboding music and unsettling yet somewhat whimsical levels like Road to Nowhere getting music that perfectly suits it. This is the biggest downgrade of the remake; they redid the score, with no option to go back to the old tracks, and while some of the updated tunes are great, they don’t really hold a candle to the original (especially the creepier levels, which got dumbed down a fair bit to the point of narm).

The one thing this game is being known for these days is its pretty brutal difficulty, at least with the original release. A lot of the staple elements of the series like checkpoints saving the boxes you had previously broken and an actual save room were not present, so every level (including the brutal ones where the margin of error was incredibly slim) needed to be completed perfectly in one go. The challenging road to 100% completion was absolutely brutal, but thankfully the remake polished things and brought it more in line with its sequels to the point you only need a flawless run on colored gem levels. It can still be pretty tough since the colored gems are located in the hardest levels of the game, but it’s a lot easier than it once was.

The original game is a great, fun game, but only play the original release if you really want to test your skills; the remake is the way to go. The game holds up amazingly well even today, so no matter which version you end up playing you’re in for a fun platforming challenge.

Anyway, let’s get on to the levels!

TOP 10 LEVELS

10. Generator Room

There’s something to be said about the various one-shot themed levels of the third island. Toxic Waste is an interesting one we’ll talk about later, The Lab is a fun penultimate level, and Cortex Power is a frustrating slog of confusing backtracking. The Generator Room, though? This is unnerving atmosphere and dark ambience at its peak, with the eerie, minimalist music and the looming Cortex faces lending a chilling sense that you’re being watched as you make your way through this dark platforming challenge. It’s not the most exciting level, but among the one-shot themes it stands out for being a heaping helping of nightmare fuel… Though moreso in the original game. The remake sadly toned things down a bit too much, though it’s hard to blame them, really.

9. Native Fortress

The level that caps off the first island is a more challenging remake of The Great Gate, and closes out the story of the first island by showing how Crash escapes the territory of Papu Papu’s tribe. It’s a pretty fun and reasonable challenge for the point in the game, but my favorite aspect of the level has always been that, when you get the red gem, you get to fly up in the clouds and experience the painted background of the other two islands with less clutter. It’s just a simple background image, sure, but I have always found it very pretty and breathtaking.

8. Road to Nowhere

Everyone’s favorite! This is one of the more challenging levels if you don’t know what you’re doing because of the tricky and precise jumps you need, but it just has so much atmosphere and pleasant music it’s hard to get mad even if I screw up and plummet to my doom a few dozen times. Bouncing off of hibernating turtles to make long jumps and inexplicable evil hogs help make this memorable. Frankly, if you want to direct your ire to a stage, direct it to The High Road, the third island’s more challenging take on this level’s theme and which is a joyless, frustrating experience.

7. Castle Machinery

This level is honestly a bit of a breather for being so late in the game; sure, it has a lot of tricky jumps and an annoying crate bridge you need to really think about to conquer, but overall it’s just an improved take on Heavy Machinery without an obtuse branching path to figure out. Still, this level really makes the list because, if you have the right colored gem, you can just immediately skip the entire level and gain thirty free lives in the process in one of the single funniest moments in the game.

6. Toxic Waste

This level is simple, straightforward, and to the point. It’s one long-ass hallway where Crash is on a narrow walkway and has to avoid incoming barrels being tossed at him by the Mafia. It has no branching paths, no crazy elements, just Crash, some barrels, some boxes, and some bad guys. It’s almost too basic, but what saves it is the atmosphere of it all and the sheer awesomeness of the music, no matter which version you’re playing. It’s a level that has stuck in my mind since I was a kid. In a way, it also set the basis for colored gem unlocks in the games to follow, as avoiding the barrels is more of a puzzle than anything, much like the tricky puzzles you had to solve to unlock the colored gems in Cortex Strikes Back and It’s About Time. It’s a neat little first step even if it’s not quite there yet.

5. Boulder Dash

I almost didn’t include one of these levels, but God, these levels were trendsetters! The whole “Crash gets chased by dangerous thing” trend began in this game, and this second take on the boulder chase from the second island is a lot more fun and challenging than the earlier version of the level. And if you get the colored gem, you’re taken to a pretty underground alternate exit with tons of crates, which is pretty dope.

4. Fumbling in the Dark

The only one of the secret levels that requires a Cortex key to make the list, Fumbling in the Dark is a remix of Lights Out, the level it branches off of. That level is a bit of a cakewalk if you have the right gem, with an alternate exit being available to you before the level’s challenge ramps up. Not so with this level! You’ve gotta do some tricky timed jumps as quick as possible so you can get to the next Aku Aku mask before the light runs out. It’s a pretty fun and fair challenge, and it pushes my platforming skills to the limit. I also just really enjoy the creepy, Gothic aesthetic of the levels inside Cortex’s castle.

3. Hog Wild

This is, hands down, the funniest level in the game. From Crash’s really suggestive eyebrow waggle which leads to him tackling a pig to the extremely goofy music, this level is just an absolute blast. It does have an equally fun yet more challenging remix as an optional secret level, Whole Hog, but I have to give props to the original level for being the most hilarious thing I ever saw when I was little.

2. Slippery Climb

Where Stormy Ascent is a brutal, unrelenting challenge, Slippery Climb is more of a tough, but fair challenge. It’s definitely up there with Sunset Vista and The High Road in terms of difficulty, and the fact you’ve gotta do a flawless run of it if you want the red gem is daunting, but this is the most thoroughly rewarding mandatory level to conquer. You’re gonna feel really cool when you take this one down, guaranteed. Maybe not as much as when you take down Stormy Ascent, but still, this may be the toughest level in the game.

1. THE GREAT HALL

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WOO YEAH BABY! LOOK AT THIS CHALLENGE!

Ok, ok, here’s the real number one:

1. N. Sanity Beach

This is the first level in the game and, thus, one of the easiest. And yet I placed it above all the levels I find to be more fun and challenging. Why? Well, for one, the pure nostalgia of it all. This was my first level in a video game, and I have fond memories of traversing the beach and jungle. For the other, this is one of the most perfect tutorial levels I have ever seen. Basically everything the game has to offer is laid out to you and slowly dished out to you: you start with a couple crates and a free life, move on to experience some enemies and pits, you can get total invincibility if you’re smart, you’re introduced to branching paths and backtracking… Everything is dished out to you at a solid pace so that any new player will be able to figure out what they’re doing with relative ease. Plus, the music slaps, and interestingly enough halfway through the level changes to a different song (the only level to do this). It really does encapsulate the game as a whole in one tiny package, and for that, I think it’s my favorite level of all.

Boss Ranking

The best way to describe the bosses in the original Crash is that they are incredibly basic. Most of them have simple patterns, easy tells, and don’t take much effort to take down. There’s not really anything here that will put your skills to the test, but none of them are really bad per se; in fact, considering how hard the levels can get, it’s sort of a breath of fresh air when you get to a boss that can be taken down without thinking hard.

6. Papu Papu

Coming in last place is our first boss, the big chief of the first island himself. He’s a pretty simple and straightforward boss battle: just jump on his head a few times and he’ll be out cold. It’s pretty nice to ease in new players, but it’s seriously not much of a challenge (though none of these bosses are particularly hard, mind you).

5. Koala Kong

So far, this has been Koala Kong’s sole major outing, as he was pretty quickly replaced with the more engaging Tiny Tiger in terms of dumb muscle.Tiny at least has some semblance of combat prowess and strategy, while this guy is just tossing boulders at you to spin back while he’s flexing and posing like he wants a part in the next volume of JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure. He’s certainly not the sharpest tool in the shed. Still, he’s not bad or anything, just a bit of a generic battle compared to the last three or the one before him.

4. Ripper Roo

Ripper Roo is a bit of a frustrating puzzle boss, requiring just the right timing to get in any damage on the guy. Still, the fun and bouncy music coupled with the amazing stock laugh does help make him a bit more memorable than the previous two bosses. I will say he’s probably worse in terms of an actual boss battle, because he ends up being more an exercise in precision than the typical dodging and waiting for the right moment to strike, but he’s also a funny kangaroo in a straitjacket, and I think that counts for something.

3. N. Brio

The longest boss in the game, Brio comes with a massive health bar that you’ll shave off pretty quickly for his first phase if you’re careful, and whose second phase features him hulking out into an incredible monstrosity. He’s simple and straightforward, much like all the bosses to be honest, but I think the bosses on the final island all have solid presentation to make up for that. Brio just comes out at the lower end, which is honestly a running theme for him in Crash games, as his battles are rarely the best out there and few can match his debut.

2. Pinstripe

Pinstripe may not be the most challenging boss in the world, but damn is he cool. A tommy gun-toting potoroo gangster who goes full-on Scarface and starts blasting up his office when you walk in while cackling like a madman? Awesome. Defeating him is also heavily implied to be the reason Cortex’s castle eventually starts burning down, as he accidentally shoots the generator upon defeat, which is a neat little touch. If nothing else, Pinstripe is just fun, and he has killer theme music to boot.

1. Cortex

Cortex begins his reign as the big bad of the franchise with a final boss battle that, while lacking in serious challenge, has such good music and presentation that it’s hard to really care. The fight is simple and straightforward: you dodge his blasts, and hit back the ones of a certain color so they blast his health off. All of this is done from atop his dirigible, as his island burns down in the background. The bosses just don’t get any cooler than this.

#Michael in the Mainstream #review #video game review #Crash Bandicoot #Naughty Dog #Platformer #nostalgia

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vesperlionheart · 4 years

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Lady of the Blackthorn Trees 2

Part 2 of this magical SasoSaku for @frostmarris

Life at the tower was a guilty paradise for Sasori for the next four years. He had been given his own quarters with a privet study and personal, yet empty, library that she allowed him to fill up as the weeks and months rolled by.

With his personal allowance she took him to the far reaches of the continent and showed him the best stalls and shops to browse through. He trained with her once a week in magic, and then on a different day of the week he studied history, art, and literature with Sakura.

The rest of the week she was called away on the business of seeing to the needs of the world, or isolating herself in the celestial observatory.

At first their meetings had been strictly reserved for those two days and evening dinners, but after the first year Sasori began to find ways where he could insert himself into her work or study. She noticed and teased him for his efforts but didn’t rebuke him for them.

On days when he was left alone with the unseen servants he felt more like a pet, but anytime he had the opportunity to speak with Sakura or be in front of her, all feelings of inferiority left him. Or maybe they didn’t leave him, but they turned reasonable. He had so much to learn from her even though he still would never understand why she bothered with him in the first place.

He found her one day, lost in thoughts and wandering aimlessly through the halls of the main library. He thought maybe she would appreciate the solitude but before he could help himself he called out to her.

Sakura turned and smiled softly. “Sasori, what can I help you with?”

“I was wondering if I could help you.”

Her eyes sparkled with something close to mischief but she sounded as cordial as ever when she replied. “I am quite alright. I don’t want you being concerned for my sake.”

Sasori wrinkled his nose and crossed his arms. “You sound like one of those stuffy court politicians. What’s the matter with you today?”

“I’m feeling like a stuffy court politician,” she said.

“That’s terrible,” Sasori sighed in fake empathy. “No one would want to hang around you like that.”

“So what are you doing here?”

“Looking for the woman this stuffy court political replaced, obviously,” Sasori shot back. He raised a single brow in an unimpressed expression to match his monotone.

When she smiled Sasori could tell she was tired but the heaviness was far less than what it once was. “I heard she took a vacation. Might I be of some assistance in her absence?”

Sasori produced his spell book from the straps under his arm and waved it before flipping through to one of the most recent pages where the ink was finally dry. “I was transcribing a spell and I don’t like how it came out. What did I do wrong?”

“Oh no, one of those questions,” Sakura sighed even as she approached his spell book to look it over. “You always have to make things so complicated.”

“I did the transcription perfectly.”

Sakura rolled her eyes and took the book with her to a nearby table. “Yes, yes, I have no doubt you were the perfect copy machine, but the spell you were copying over fit the original spell caster and suited their natural style. You are not the original spell caster so you need to make allotments in the transcription for where you deviate from the author.”

Sasori secretly delighted in how impassioned Sakura could become with the right sort of question. She could talk for hours about her favorite authors and spell writers and how they were under appreciated in their field until after their death. It was probably his favorite bad habit, setting her off onto tangents.

“You’re looking far too smug for someone who didn’t even omit the core natural element clause, Sasori.”

“You’re supposed to keep that the same when transferring.”

“Only with like minded spell workers. You’re not a sorcerer like me, you need to make allowances for how your body handles magic otherwise you’ll blow both your hands off at the wrists. You think I want to have to make you a pair of pretty silver hands, huh?” she teased.

Sasori just chuckled in response and Sakura’s lips puckered in something close to a pout. “Why are you laughing at me?”

“You don’t sound like a court politician anymore,” he explained. “Now you’re just a nagging teacher.”

Sakura rolled her eyes and waved her hand over her shoulder. “Excuse me for looking out for your best interests. What do you expect when you show up with such shoddy work? Put this away, I’m taking you to the grove for lessons.”

In spite of himself, Sasori perked up at the mention. “It’s only the third day of the week.”

“Yes, but you’re hopeless and I’m in need of a good distraction,” Sakura said, tone flippant.

Sasori wondered if there was any particular reason for her earlier despondency, but felt comfortable letting it go if she was willing to spend time with him in her grove. He wasn’t about to complain about the extra attention.

One of the invisible servants appeared at the door to the balcony, offering Sakura a pair of heels to change into. Sakura stepped out of her slippers and reached for the shoes already inscribed with world walking spells painted down their undersides.

Sasori reached before the servant could and knelt next to her side with one of the shoes already in hand. He took her heel and slid the first shoe on while Sakura balanced a single hand on his shoulder. When he helped her with the second shoe he almost didn’t let go, but realized himself before she could notice his absentmindedness.

“I should inscribe a pair for you too,” Sakura admitted as he stood.

“You want to gift me a pair of heels?” he teased in a flat monotone to contradict the excitement in his heart from being so close and intimate.

“Absolutely,” Sakura joked. “I think it would do wonders for your ass.”

Sasori snickered but offered his arm for her to take. When Sakura took her first step there was a familiar click from her heels on the marble before magic began to ripple around them. The scenery melted like a water painting in the rain but Sakura led Sasori straight through the mess and through a fluttering of dragonfly wings before the world became solid once more. There was no more click or clacking sound as her heels touched down on the grass, but there was still an unnaturalness to the way she walked perfectly on an imperfect surface.

“How long did the enchantment on your shoes take you?” Sasori asked as the last of his nausea abated.

“A decade, but I was less fastidious about the design. My master had a pair she worked on for twenty five years. Those boots could take her across oceans even if she never had visited the place before,” Sakura explained.

“I think your heels are plenty impressive, but I’ll be sure to discover some less dizzying way to migrate long distances,” he begrudgingly admitted.

“Careful, you’ve been too kind with your complements recently. You wouldn’t want me to start suspecting you to be sweet on me, would you?” Sakura teased with a coy expression before pulling out of Sasori’s hold to walk ahead of him.

In front of them was a grove of dead and ugly looking trees, all helplessly barren with more thorns than life. As Sakura approached the trees, they started to pull themselves up, stretching taller and farther than any blackthorn tree had a right to be before their branches began to tremble with new buds. The potential of life was back in their bark but nothing would bloom unless Sakura let it.

The grove was her favorite place to practice magic safely, as the trees had been a gift from her previous master. They were old, dead things but each responded to her magic whenever a spell was preformed correctly. When Sakura did her work the whole field would be a snowstorm of white blossoms and petals. It was also a fair practice spot for Sasori to go to when he was having trouble with his spells. If he was using an insufficient magical output the trees would clue him in with their reactions.

Sasori noticed how the buds remained and frowned at the overall health of the trees. Normally Sakura left them barren until explicitly using a spell, but it seemed as if she was leaking magic… was that on purpose?

“What are you doing?” she yelled back, already far ahead of where he stood.

“That should be my question to you,” Sasori yelled back, pretending to sound annoyed. “Why are you already cheating?”

“It’s been a shitty morning, don’t belittle me for a few harmless pleasures,” she shot back with a dramatic roll of her eyes. “Hurry up or I’ll leave you behind.”

“No you won’t.”

“Don’t talk back to me!”

Sasori did his best to hide his smirk but he was afraid she could hear it in his words whenever he talked. For as amazingly powerful a sorceress she was, it was painfully easy to rile her up. It was in such moment she showed what Sasori considered her true age. Maybe she was decades ahead of him, but sometimes it felt like he had seen more of the world and lived on it longer.

Hours later the pair reclined on a borrowed blanket set underneath the flowering blackthorn trees, content to watch the petals fall like snow as the magic drained out of the trees. Considering how long and hard he had practiced, he assumed it would be hours before the land was dry and barren again.

“More of our lessons should be outdoors,” he said over tea.

Sakura hummed along, looking as if she was flirting with the idea of a nap. He reached over and took the tea dish from her fingers and set it aside, out of the way. She didn’t protest and didn’t even bother to react when Sasori scooted closer.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Sakura blinked but answered after a pause. “You’re so entitled. What makes you think you get to hear about my problems?”

“Who else do you take to your sacred grove?”

She giggled. “It’s not sacred. I told you I’m not a god.”

“You’re more than just a sorceress though, aren’t you?”

Sakura’s eyes had all but closed until Sasori spoke. Slowly, she raised her head and stared in his direction. “What would lead you to make such a bold accusation?”

“You’re too powerful to be a sorceress.”

Sakura hummed thoughtfully, searching his face before leaning back and smirking. “Then consider this a time for lessons, boy, tell me what you know of sorceresses and witches. Tell me the truth between wizards and warlocks, the fae and the mage.”

“The difference is in where one draws their power. Witches take magic from the earth and the natural world and are considered the most basic of magic practitioners due to their inability to carry magic in their own body. Not much different are those who strike pacts to obtain magic, like those in the warlock profession. Divine clerics and priest do this with their gods but they like to distinguish themselves from the lot of magic users by claiming their patrons are divine.”

“As if that makes them any different than us,” Sakura giggled. “What else?”

“Some are born with magic already in them and learn to use or harness such a magic through various means. In this regard both the sorceress and the wizard are similar.”

“How is a wizard different from a spellbinder then?” Sakura interrupted, leaning forward with a knowing glint to her eyes.

Sasori swallowed and thought over his words carefully before speaking. “Wizards memorize spells to harness their powers and are limited by how much their medium can withstand in a given period of time. That is why they would use wands, rods, or even staves to channel their magic through as well as spell components, like ingredients,” Sasori said.

As if to demonstrate Sakura reached up and broke off a dry branch of one of the blackthorn trees. She turned around with the withered thing in hand and shook it once before her magic made it bloom with a flourish of petite white blossoms. From the point golden magic flowed, dropping to the ground and transforming into a pool of water.

“And you have no such item, so tell me now the reason for it,” Sakura said. She threw the thriving branch behind her shoulder and rejoined Sasori on the picnic blanket. When she sat her skirts flared out around her and sparked with the beaded designs. She looked as if she was clothed in millions of dragon fly wings.

“I am not a wizard. I need no components and I carry no wand, but I do have a medium.”

Sakura smirked and held up two fingers.

“Ah, I meant I do have two mediums,” he said.

“I should know, I bound both of them for you,” Sakura said.

“And I’m thankful to you for that, so quit mentioning it every time you can,” Sasori sighed, feeling his ears heat when she looked at him.

“Continue with our lesson, Sasori.”

He closed his eyes and forced his spirit to ground itself and his heart to quit its trembling. It had been years but he still fluttered at the sound of her voice uttering his name. He doubted he would ever grow used to the way she made him feel.

“I am a spellbinder because I bind spells into my book and execute them thusly. A spell I have successfully transcribed can be read back for its magic effect or burned for silent casting.” He hesitated, watching her carefully. “Or it can-”

“Those are the only two ways I recognize,” she interrupted. When she looked up at him through her lashes it was in warning.

Sasori nodded slowly and silently agreed, deeming it unwise to go against her teachings. It didn’t matter that blood casting was far more efficient than burning or reading, the cost was too great and Sakura refused to let his spells taste his blood for any reason.

“If one is born a sorceress,” Sasori began, earning her attention back, “it is due to the fact that such a child came into the world through unnatural means or supernatural means, and thus was blessed with their own pool of personal magic. They need no spells written or whispered, but are considered to be the most effect of magic users apart from the singular drawback of their magic pools.”

Sakura laughed. “True, most sorcerers can’t enchant a single shoe on their own.”

Sasori slowly nodded. “My teacher is truly extraordinary to have such perfect magical control and such deep wells.”

Sakura giggled. “You won’t get anywhere with me if you try to flatter this old woman, but I like you enough on your own that maybe one day I’ll tell you my secrets…one day.”

“You have secrets?” Sasori teased back.

“Every lady does.”

Sasori rolled his eyes and played at being disinterested. “I’m not sure I want to know about those types of secrets. Ladies are better left a mystery, thank you.”

“Sexist log. Don’t be such a garden variety vegetable about it.”

Sasori ended up sputtering at her weak insults and that only provoked her further. She was sitting up, ready to chastise him when the magic in the field snapped taunt and they both turned like mirrored versions of each other, to face the center of the field where something was trying to emerge.

“What is it?” Sasori asked first. He was already on his feet and had slipped one of the books out from its holder under his arms.

“No, wait. I recognize this magic. Let it pass, it’s only a summons spell.” Sakura waved her hand in the air and yielded her protective magic. Like a popped balloon, the furry animal tumbled to the grass and shuffled around a bit before noticing Sakura and Sasori. The fox bound over and stopped at her feet, turning to show off a letter tied to his back.

“There were more efficient ways of reaching you, I’m sure,” Sasori huffed in complaint. He didn’t put his spell book away.

Sakura read the missive and sighed, burning it up before standing. The fox deflated and became a construct of raw and tangled magic before the breeze blew it’s remains away.

“We should hurry back. I need to pack up before my escort arrives.” Sakura forced herself to smile. “I’m not trusted to arrive at the council without one.”

The idea of Sakura being manhandled into a meeting or position she wasn’t in favor of didn’t sit well with Sasori. “I could kill them if you wanted. We could say they never arrived.” He offered her his arm to take as he finally pocketed his spell book.

“The offer is tempting but would ultimately lead to more noise than I’m willing to put up with.”

Sasori inclined his head as the world around them began to melt with the transportation magic. “A stiff drink for the road then?”

“Yes, please.”

When they arrived back at the tower in the library, they were stepping through the doors that led to the outside balcony. The doorway folded itself up after their arrival, transforming into a nondescript stone wall that was indistinguishable from all others.

If Sakura wanted to, she would have little trouble turning her home into a prison for Sasori. It would be near inescapable with the endless levels and far reaching staircases, not to mention the unfolding windows and doors that shifted position based on Sakura’s will. The tower had been grown out of her magic and was basically an extension of her being, as many magic towers were for prominent wizards and magic workers.

“How much time do you have before your guest arrives?” Sasori asked.

“Not enough.” Sakura paused to consider his question and tapped her nose while thinking. “But maybe an hour if he’s fast. Don’t feel like you have to interact with him. If possible I’d prefer the pair of you not interact as it would only lead to more exhaustive questions.”

“Why? Is my presence taboo?”

“No, but my tutelage is.” Sakura grinned mischievously. “So please don’t tell them I’m teaching you anything. If it comes down to it, say you’re a visiting friend.”

After four years this was the first time Sasori had to be deceptive with one of Sakura’s guests. True, it was rare anyone made it to her tower, and the most interaction he had with other humans was when he went shopping, but his studies had never been called taboo.

“Is it alright if they know I’m a spell caster?” he asked.

“That was something your family began in you, I only furthered your studies, so no, you don’t have to hide that you know magic. But please keep the fact that I’ve aided you as much as I have a secret. If you were without magic until me it really would be illegal.”

Sasori made a face. “That sounds… seditious.”

Sakura shrugged. “I liked the peace of not having a wizard or adventuring party showing up on my doorstep every month, trying to kill me because they thought I was evil for being an unregistered agent. There wasn’t any real danger to it, but I got bored and tired, so this is the compromise. I follow some shitty rules and they leave me alone. ”

“I can still kill someone for you. That offer is still on the table if you need it.”

“Death is easy, Sasori,” Sakura said, touching his face with both hands. “Dealing the the endless cycle of it isn’t, and I don’t have the heart to break the wheel before it starts spinning.”

The quote made Sasori remember something they had both read and discusses one night over wine and cheese. The cycle of revenge and how it always continued to spin, how an eye for an eye left the whole world blind. How was one to escape such a vicious cycle other than opt out of it when it was their turn to deal violence?

In a rare moment of darkness Sakura laughed at his naïvety and drained the rest of the wine. ‘Don’t stop at an eye. If someone took from me I wouldn’t leave them with eyes, hands, or teeth. When wronged, the one who survives need not turn the wheel on its endless cycle, but instead shatter it without mercy. I do not work in half measures, and if I truly was so wronged, there would be no one left to continue the cycle of violence.’

Sasori had never forgotten her cruelty of effectiveness from the first night they met, and he never would. The monstress beauty she was in the firelight haunted his dreams years later, but there was nothing in him that could complain against it. He had never seen anything more beautiful.

Yet he knew, after so many years, Sakura was not easily moved to such anger. Her displays of wrath were rare and hard won by the worst of the worst.

“I ned to pack,” Sakura said simply before retreating for her rooms.

Left on his own, Sasori busied himself in pestering the library’s speaking tomes for any information they had on visitors to the tower. One of the books admitted it was probably another wizard and that, depending on the kingdom, it could be any number of intellectual equals.

Another book listed a number of prominent magic users in the neighboring lands and Sasori grew more and more irked as he saw their likenesses painted in ink across the pages. Too many mages liked to keep themselves younger looking than they had any right to. Sakura looked plenty young too, but it wasn’t something she was active about maintaining, but rather a side effect of the reservation and health magic she possessed.

The first hour came and went without word of a visitor, but then the clockwork birds that roosted in the upper levels of the tower showed him what they had spotted, approaching from the north. Indeed there was a young, handsome looking mage on wyvern.

Sasori didn’t think twice but threw off his normal wear and changed into a loose, open front nightshirt and the form fitting black riding pants he used while practice fighting in the tower’s gym. If he could look more like a gigolo it would have to come out in his acting. At least his hair was a mess.

He heard voices and knew Sakura must have greeted her guest in one of the main halls. It was easy enough to find, no matter how confusing the tower could become on its own.

“Are you sure you have everything you need?” a male voice inquired.

“You should know by now I’m more than proficient in sealing and spatial magics. All I need is this,” Sakura replied waving a hand in the air where her bracelet sparkled with extra beads.

Sasori emerged at this moment, rubbing at his face with the palm of his hand and faking sleepiness. The exaggerated yawn caused Sakura to turn and her reaction was priceless.

“Are you leaving already?” he asked, ignoring the dark haired mage who looked just as gobsmacked.

“Sasori?” Sakura squeaked.

He smiled at her guest and it was the fakest he had ever felt. “I didn’t know you were gonna have visitors.”

“I…you didn’t mention having a house guest,” the other male laughed. “I hate to think I’m intruding.”

“No, it’s fine Itachi,” Sakura said, still looking confused and alarmed at her student. “I-Sasori, what are you doing?”

“Seeing you off,” Sasori replied, sounding sweeter than fake sugar. “You said you’d be gone for a while so I wanted to say goodbye. Who is your escort?”

“A court mage from the Konohagakure empire, Itachi Uchiha,” the stranger answered, sweeping a had up to make into a fist above his shoulder. His robes were well cut and draped over only one half of his body, leaving the other side exposed to the more form fitting black shirt and riding pants, not dissimilar to the ones Sasori wore to look whorish.

“And you are?” Itachi asked.

“Just a friend Sakura invited in, no one important.”

Itachi tilted his chin up and narrowed his eyes. “A friend from the Golden Desert? You must have come a long way.”

“Longer than most.”

Sasori smirked and Itachi’s dark black eyes narrowed and flared with simmering magic. Sasori could smell the pyromaniac stench to it as the Uchiha’s magic made his eyes flash red. Between the two of them, Sasori thought his chances were pretty good if they had to go toe to toe. He had come a long way since the first day Sakura picked him up, and now he was able to do things his cousins could only dream of.

“How long are you staying on our continent?” Itachi asked, phrasing his words carefully as he never once looked away from Sasori.

“As long as I’m useful,” Sasori answered through a rakish grin that had Sakura groaning silently in the background.

“It’s not-you know what, never mind. I’m ready to go,” Sakura interjected.

Sasori slouched against the wall and blew a dramatic goodby kiss as Sakura started to head out. “Come back safe,” he called.

“Go fuck yourself!” she shouted without looking back.

Sasori felt his shoulders jump with true delight at her words. He wanted to bend over laughing but he stifled it all for a smooth chuckle before shouting back, “I’d rather leave that to you.”

Itachi glared but turned to follow Sakura out before pausing on the threshold to the outside. “Sasori, was it?” Itachi asked. “It might be in your best interest to return home as soon as possible. Sakura is far too kind to say it to your face, but people from your continent aren’t thought of highly here. You do her a disservice by intruding on her hospitality.”

“Nah, I enjoy being alive much better when I’m here,” Sasori answered back honestly. Truly, before he met her Sasori had only been waiting to die and was a pessimistic attitude about anything that happened to anyone. Before Sakura, Sasori hadn’t liked the person he was.

Itachi glared once before turning sharply on his heel and following Sakura out. Sasori watched from a nearby window as Itachi caught up to Sakura and helped her onto the back of his wyvern before following her into the saddle. Sasori glared at how close Itachi insisted on being and knew he had done the right thing to suss out the assholes who thought they knew Sakura better.

“He wasn’t even that pretty.”

Sasori grumbled to himself before passing out face first in his bed, resolved to wait until Sakura came back as patiently as he could.

When Sakura found him a week later, he was on his back under the massive telescope she had fixed atop the mounted platform in the observatory.

“And here I thought you’d greet me as soon as I returned,” Sakura teased, stepping into the room. When Sasori didn’t reply she approached his body and laughed at his sleeping face. “You’re lucky I like you, otherwise I never would have forgiven you for such a stunt.”

“Does that mean you’ll take me shopping?”

Sakura startled and then laughed as Sasori cracked open a single eye. Before she could stop him she felt his arms around the small of her back tugging her forward. She braced against the ground, one hand on either sided of his skull as she propped herself up. That’s when she smelled the wine.

“Have you been drinking?” she gasped.

“Maybe. It’s lonely without you here. What else did you think I’d do?”

“Study.”

Sasori shook his head. “Not fun on my own.”

“I leave you alone three fourths of the time, how was this any different?” she asked.

“You were somewhere I couldn’t reach.” Sasori closed his eyes and sighed deeply, looking like he’d drift back off to sleep. “Stay with me?”

“Sasori, you’re drunk.”

“I’m lonely,” he corrected.

“Fine, lonely and drunk, but still drunk. Get to bed.”

Sasori tightened his arms around her waist and tried to pull her closer but Sakura was strong so she didn’t budge. “Carry me,” Sasori demanded, slurring his words almost.

It was an unreasonable demand, but he was drunk so Sakura braced and heaved Sasori back, picking him up into her arms and turning him around so she cradled him like a bride with his head resting against her shoulder.

“You weight as much as an ox,” Sakura complained as she carried him down the stairs under the telescope.

“You deserve it, you were gone so long.”

“It was a week you big baby.” Sakura huffed loudly and lifted him higher in her arms before exiting the room and making for the hall. With her passive magic she manipulated the hallways to shorten and contort for her, turning the long walk short.

Sasori reached out and hooked one hand over her shoulder, hanging on as she kept him in her arms. With him close she could smell the soap as well as the wine.

“What are you going to be like if you ever decide to leave? You’re hopeless.”

The arm around her shoulder tightened. “I’m not leaving you.”

“You know, one day you’re going to be strong enough to fight off whoever it was who drove you out of your homeland and then you’re gonna wanna head home,” Sakura said. “They always do.”

“Not me,”Sasori insisted, rising his volume in anger.

“You say that now,” Sakura snorted, pausing to kick his door open. “But don’t sell yourself so short. There’s a lot more to life than this damn tower.”

“Yeah and it all sucks,” Sasori snapped.

“What about your family?”

“They’re only safe if I stay away. I go back…we’re all toast.” Sasori inhaled sharply and then dropped his head back onto her shoulder. “They wanted me to live and I was never worth it.”

Sakura hesitated on the threshold but then pushed in, turning so Sasori would fit through the door. She carried him over to his bed and set him down under the rumpled covers, taking care to pull off his shoes before tucking his feet under the blankets. He pawed at the mattress, turning around only to be pushed back against the pillows by Sakura.

“You need to sleep this off. Getting sloshed while I was out wasn’t a smart idea.”

“You’re a smart idea.”

Sakura snickered, almost choking on the laugh that came so naturally. Sasori was a lot more fun to take in as a student than she first anticipated. He had been moody and dark in the early weeks, but that melted away soon enough.

“I’m going to leave some water and medicine on the nightstand for you,” Sakura said.

When she moved to stand Sasori grabbed at her wrist and she stopped. “Don’t go.”

“I’m not leaving the tower.”

Sasori blinked, eyes unfocused and bleary. “Sometimes you go to that place and it always hurts you, but you shouldn’t go, even if you’re safe in the tower.”

“Someone isn’t making sense,” Sakura teased. When she tried to pull away he reached with his other hand to stop her from rising. “Sasori, I’m going to get upset.”

“Why don’t you age?” he asked. “It’s not that you’re long lived, there is no aging in your body. Why are you so powerful with so much magic when you should have been born with a fraction of what you wield?”

Sakura gave up and sat back down. “You’re drunk, but you’re honest I guess. You want to know all my lady secrets, don’t you?”

“It’s still hurting you.”

“It’s not hurting me. What I did with that power haunts me, there’s a difference.”

“I want to live forever with you,” Sasori whispered, sounding as if his voice was meant for only secrets. “Please.”

“I won’t live forever, I’m not a god.”

“You have the power of one.”

Sakura brushed aside his longer red bangs and kissed at his forehead, inhaling his soapy scent. “I don’t know why I like you enough to admit this, but you’re drunk so you likely won’t remember it in the morning.”

Sakura reached out and a cup rolled itself up onto the nightstand and a pair of tablets unfolded themselves out of space. The cup began to fill with water enchanted to stay fresh for hours. Sasori didn’t look away from Sakura until after she was finished summoning the things his hungover ass would need in the morning.

“You’re astute to have noticed after only four years. The only others who have suspected have been those who’ve known me for decades and my closest associates, but yes, I age too slowly to be considered aged. At this rate it will be thousands of years before I see my first wrinkle. My teacher was the same way.”

“Sakura…”

She brushed the hair out of his eyes and stared too long at the shape of his face. It was a handsome face, one she found herself thinking of when it wasn’t in front of her.

“When I was seventeen she took me to the barren wastes and we hiked for a day and a night to the site of a great but forgotten battle. The carcass of a other-world god was still there, frozen in time and ice. I was strong and had perfect control, but like you said, I had too little magic for my ambitions.”

Sasori tried whispering her name again but his eyes were so heavy they could barely stay open.

“I ate the flesh of that god until my body couldn’t hold any more. I haven’t considered myself human since then,” Sakura quietly confessed, staring down at his face as it watched her.

“Please kiss me,” he whispered on the edge of sleep.

“You’re drunk.”

“I’m honest.” He reached for her but only caught her hair, and his fingers slipped through. “Please.”

He was drunk and didn’t know what he wanted, so it was wrong of her, so wrong, but Sakura indulged his request like a mother would, with a soft kiss against his forehead and a wish goodnight.

Sasori touched the spot and almost complained, but by the time Sakura was in the doorway, he was already fast asleep.

#SasoSaku #my writing #Sakura #Sasori #Sakura Haruno #BAMF Sakura #part 2 #no beta we die like men

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simoncardonefishes · 3 years

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River Baits

By Simon Cardone

Soaking a bait in the Murray River and its tributaries would have to be one of the most relaxing methods of fishing that I regularly participate in. Not only can you expect to tangle with a range of species, but the rigs and techniques used are simple, and the surrounding environment is stunning.

Bait fishing can be done all year round in the river, however when the surface water temperature is greater than 18c native fish such as callop, silver perch and catfish will all be in feeding mode , particularly in the shallow margins hunting down shrimp, yabbies and small baitfish. This means shore based fishers can get good numbers as well as the boaties.

So let’s take a species by species look at how to get the most out of your next bait fishing session on the mighty Murray River.

Golden Perch (Callop/Yellowbelly)

Golden Perch are the most widely distributed and plentiful native fish in the Murray-Darling Basin. Minimum legal length in South Australia is 33cm and the daily bag limit is five per person. The flesh is white and has a very mild flavour, suited to steaming or baking whole, or shallow frying the fillets. A camp favourite recipe of ours is the cut the boneless and skinned fillets into fish fingers, lightly dust with flour, salt, pepper and cook in a frying pan with butter and olive oil over coals from the fire until crispy on the outside. Washed down with a cold beverage of your choice – a perfect entrée out in the bush!

Live baits will generally produce the best results when fishing for callop, with shrimp, small yabbies and big worms such as scrub worms being the pick. If you can’t source live bait, frozen peeled prawns will also work.

I prefer a simple running sinker straight to the hook for shore based fishing. When there is no current to contend with a ball sinker of 5-15g will be plenty. Hook size is governed by bait size, so long shanked or bait keeper hooks sizes 2 to 6 for worms, and octopus or circle patterns sized 4 to 2/0 for shrimps and yabbies. 2500-4000 sized spin reels spooled with 10-15lb braid and fluorocarbon or mono leader of the same breaking strain will be ample. Rods with a 3-6kg rating and 7ft in length are ideal.

Fish with two rods if possible, with one cast deep and the other shallow. Target any nearby structure as this is where you will find the perch. Fishing with two different bait types will also help you ascertain the fish’s particular preference on the day. Please do not leave rods unattended. This will help prevent fish swallowing baits deep and aid the successful release of our precious native fish if you are not keeping one for a feed.

Once you have cast your bait into a likely looking area wind in just enough slack line to leave a slight belly in the line and set your rod in a rod holder angled as close as possible to the water. Goldens will hit your bait two ways. Method one is a very soft “fumbly’ take – watch your rod tip closely and if it is moving erratically for more than a few seconds try and set the hook with a swift upright strike of the rod. This seems to be their preferred method for eating worm baits. Bite number two will leave you in no doubt as the perch hoovers in a shrimp or small yabby with gusto.

When bait fishing for callop from a boat, this is best done vertically amongst the snags. “Bobbing” your presentation slowly up and down at regular intervals will soon attract any nearby fish. A standard paternoster style rig will work, but I still prefer a small running sinker straight to the hook. The best snags will be those with many branches that are submerged and cover a range of depths – see accompanying picture. The beauty about the large red gum snags is that you can reposition your boat and therefore your bait periodically to find a hungry native before moving onto your next location. On a good day, you will get your bag off the one tree!

Callop bait fishing hotspots to try are Morgan, Swan Reach and Walker Flat.

Murray Cod

Given that murray cod are a catch and release option only in South Australian waters I don’t see much point in bait fishing for this species. However if you do travel over the border into New South Wales and Victorian waters where you are allowed to keep a legal sized fish for a feed in season then it’s game on.

Cod are the river’s definition of a “greedy guts” and nothing is off the menu when it comes to bait. We have caught them on raw chicken, mozzarella and tasty cheeses, cooked chicken nuggets, dim sims, shrimp, worms, bardi and wood grubs, and yabbies.

You can readily catch small cod in most places that have suitable habitat upstream from Renmark all the way through to the upper Murray. Fishing along weed lines and undercut clay banks is always a good bet for a slot sized cod (55-75cm in season). But if you are after a murray monster on bait you need to fish big baits in tight to old snags positioned in deep water. Your tackle needs to be tough for this sort of close quarter combat as once hooked up to a big murray there will be no second chances, you win or they win – very quickly! 50lb main line whether it be mono or braid as a minimum, and traces up to 100lb. If you use a swivel make sure it is rated to at least 50kg, and only high quality heavy gauge hooks in octopus or circle patterns 4/0 to 8/0 should be used. I prefer to snell my hooks about 10cm apart regardless of the bait I’m using. I find that I get a better hook-up rate by having two baited hooks together.

Rods rated in the 10 -24kg range and around 6ft in length matched to 4000-8000 sized spin reels or 200 size or larger bait cast/overhead reels with drags of 10kg + should give you enough stopping power for most fish.

As with lure fishing for cod, make sure you have all your tools laid out and ready to go particularly if you plan on releasing your fish; glove, lip grips, landing net, bragmat, pliers, bolt cutters and of course a camera.

Cod bait fishing hotspots to try are Cadell, Wentworth (NSW) & Robinvale (NSW).

Silver Perch and catfish

“Silvers” and “catties” are both classified as endangered by fisheries in both SA and NSW and must be returned to the water unharmed. Both these species suffered greatly from overfishing and habitat degradation for many years due to the fact that unlike cod and callop they tend to have a limited range and thus populations can get wiped out quickly.

Thanks now to fisheries management, stocking and habitat restoration works across the murray-darling basin for the past two decades it is now possible to tangle with both of these remarkable fish when bait fishing for callop, especially in the warmer months in shallow water. We have had bait fishing sessions where we have caught more silvers and catties than callop and carp, which is a good sign for the future.

Those who are old enough to remember will tell you both of these fish are superb on the plate, but for now it’s strictly catch, photograph and release in the Murray river.

Carp

It is estimated by the Australian government Department of Environment that carp make up 90% of fish biomass in some areas of the river murray. This is a frightening statistic, but if you look at carp populations across the basin it becomes clear that you will find carp favour areas of degraded habitat and shallow lakes/lagoons. On the other hand, healthy sections of the river with plenty of snags, riparian vegetation, rock bars and good flow will see native fish proliferate.

From an angling perspective, this makes it easy to pick locations to tangle with “mud marlin”. Many public access areas along the SA section of the lower murray are what I would call badly degraded in terms of habitat, i.e. devoid of native vegetation, a silted or sandy bottom and banks choked with invasive willow trees – carp paradise!

Given that carp grow to enormous sizes and can be found in great numbers year round in shallow water equals great fun for anglers of all abilities. In my opinion they are the best fish for kids to learn how to use fishing gear correctly and safely and also how to play the fish correctly and into the waiting net.

In terms of gear to use I prefer to fish with lighter lines and outfits than I would normally use for callop so I can experience the thrill of the fight of these powerful fish, however using the same gear is fine if you don’t have a big fishing budget or if space is at a premium when you travel.

For me a typical backwater carp setup is a 7ft graphite rod with a parabolic action rated at 2-4kg matched to a 2500 sized reel loaded with 10lb braid and a rod length of 6 pound fluorocarbon leader. If I can see plenty of carp cruising around I will just put a tiny ball sinker on to assist with casting and bait either a size 4 circle hook or size 8 bait holder hook with maggots, corn or worms. You can literally cast towards cruising fish and expect them to belt your offering almost immediately when they are active.

When the weather is cooler and the fish are deeper I substitute the sinker for a sliding berley spring packed with pre mixed berley or bread to draw the fish towards my bait. Periodically throwing out handfuls of berley pellets will also help when the bite is tough.

I’ve said it many times before, but for the benefit of newcomers to this style of fishing; please don’t leave your rod unattended with a tight drag – this is a recipe for disaster and will result in you losing your outfit into the drink. Even a moderate sized carp can make your favourite combo disappear in the blink of an eye!

Carp is a noxious species and must not be returned to the water alive, so please dispose of them thoughtfully and don’t leave them rotting on the bank. Bury them in you your garden for fertilizer, or freeze them and utilize for carp/cray baits. At the very least bag them up and bin them. I know there are many people who actually regard them highly as table fish as they do in Europe and Asia, but for my money I’ll eat a golden perch any day!

Redfin (English Perch)

Definitely the tastiest fish in the river is the reddie aka “inland whiting”. When I was growing up they used to be a regular catch, but are harder to find these days. I seem to catch more reddies from Bowhill right down to Lake Alexandrina these days.

Fishing methods and locations are exactly the same as fishing for callop. Redfin are also classified as noxious, so they are only to be released directly into your esky. Beer battered skinned redfin and chips is match made in heaven.

One Percenters

You never stop learning when it comes to fishing, and this certainly applies to bait fishing in the river. Little things can make a big difference, so some additional points to consider;

- When a river is rising, try using grub baits and worms. When a river is steady or falling use yabby and shrimp baits.

- Bait fishing at night during summer is very effective for native species, if fishing from the bank a glow stick attached to your rod tip will help with bite detection.

- Check hooks for sharpness before and during each fishing session. Replace as necessary.

- Check leaders and traces for any signs of wear. Replace as necessary

- Practice knot tying at home. Be confident in your ability to tie good knots. Some good knots I recommend you master are: locked blood knot, uni knot, Albright knot, spider hitch, dropper loop and the perfection loop.

- Pre tying traces at home and putting into labelled sandwich bags in your tacklebox/bag will save you time on the water and ensure you don’t miss out on fish feeding windows.

- If you can time your bait fishing missions with a sharply rising or falling barometer, you will be more likely to encounter a hot bite.

While bait fishing in the river is a relaxing pastime and generally will produce fish regularly for even a novice angler, I hope that some of the species specific tips and techniques I have outlined here will help improve your catch rate this Easter period and well into the future. Enjoy your time on the river and make some memories!

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prettywordsyouleft · 4 years

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Down By The Lake - Part 3

Summary: It was only meant to be a stolen moment between you and your lover Daehyun and ended with him framed for murdering your best friend. With the assistance of your aloof friend Inspector Bang, could you find the real culprit called The Pauper, in time to clear Daehyun’s name?

Pairing: Jung Daehyun x reader ft. Bang Yongguk

Genre: murder mystery / periodic au / horror-ish

Warnings: murder / death / dark content given the nature of the storyline

Down By The Lake will be shared daily at 10am NZST.

Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

It was harder to find evidence than you expected. Yongguk had taken you to the scene three times already, making you retrace the same steps over and over until you cried out in frustration. “Yongguk! Must we do this again?!”

“It is important, Y/N,” he urged and you groaned for the umpteenth time, dragging your feet back to the first spot you met Daehyun in that night. Yongguk joined your side and held his hands out loosely towards you. “Did he grab you like this?”

Reaching for your waist, Yongguk lifted his head up politely at the close proximity. You giggled, and he glanced down at you apprehensively.

“Had we not grown up together, perhaps I would see more of a man in you. Women say you’re handsome, if not for the aloof approach you maintain.”

“Focus, Y/N.”

“But you are rather sensitive and shy, are you not?” you continued, squeaking when he tightened his grip around you.

“My Lady, please focus,” he reiterated pointedly. “This tight?”

“He grabbed my arm,” you stated, shifting away from Yongguk so he could take it and then pushed into him as if you had been moving quickly and relied on his balance to hold you upright. Yongguk nodded once whilst you attempted to reign in your enjoyment at his evident displeasure of being this close to you. “And then we had our first conversation. He ridiculed my dress, which was warranted. So I asked for help out of it.”

“You are far too improper for a lady of your status, Y/N,” Yongguk groaned and you gave the inspector a look. Yongguk glanced down at you and then stepped away. “And then?”

“He helped me remove the dress so we could go swim. I was overheated from the ball.” Yongguk strained a smile and gestured down the path. You followed him to the point where you stepped out to the lakefront, merely a metre from the water’s edge. “I got to here before Daehyun pulled me back into the bushes.”

Replaying the steps, except this time, you pushed Yongguk into the space Daehyun had held you within. You grinned. “Struggling, Inspector?”

“No, your instruction is incredibly insightful,” he murmured, growing quiet as he looked around you both. Your humour eased as you watched him work, glancing around yourself as if you could see what he did.

“There is no way to see a thing from here,” he admitted softly and you nodded. “And with it being dark out, it would lower visibility further.”

“I could not see a thing, but I did hear it all,” you replied sadly, closing your eyes as a tear fell down your face. “I was right here as my best friend was killed.”

“And you went to go out?” he reminded, helping you along so you did not focus on the parts that could not be changed now. Nodding, you re-enacted the tussle, Yongguk holding you back. The tears continued to fall and your friend began to brood over the situation. “There is a chance the killer heard you both moving. He normally strikes five times with the hay hook. On Lucy-”

“Please,” you begged tearfully and Yongguk omitted the rest of his findings.

“He finished his kill short and decided to flee.”

“Daehyun pulled us in closer to the bushes and all I heard were footsteps in that direction,” you continued and Yongguk stepped around you, heading off as you sobbed into the bushes, crouching down when you could no longer stand.

You missed Lucy terribly and the guilt ate at you the further you helped Yongguk with the play-by-play. It was a misfortune you had not wished upon anyone, and had you the ability to return to the night for real, you would have done more.

Perhaps it would be you found afloat within the lake. After all, this was your house and the killer being on the property when so many guards were on post would have only meant he was looking for someone in particular.

You jumped when you felt a hand reach for your shoulder. “The track has been used recently.”

“The investigation that was led by Moore had more than seven men tramp up and down it. I do not feel any clues would remain.”

“Still, is it not a path you and I know better than others?” Yongguk offered and with a smile, you took his hand he held out for you.

“We have not played up there since we were young.”

“Not much has changed, I am certain of it,” Yongguk assured as he helped you over the fence style, swinging your linked hands loosely as you had always done as children. You continued to feel lighter as you travelled across the track that led to the old hunting den. Conversation was slow; much as it always was between you. Yongguk had always been the quiet type and you the brazen, your laughter bouncing off the hillside as it once had in the past.

Just as you were mentioning your Great Aunt’s upcoming birthday, Yongguk came to a stop, his gaze stopping on the tree line nearby. “What is it that you see?”

“Remember how we would climb that tree there?”

“Was it that one?” you asked, smiling fondly at the memory. However, Yongguk did not share the same sentiment. “Why? Is there something wrong with it?”

“I remember, we would watch our parents in the garden from here.”

Your blood ran cold, marching over to the tree in question, gesturing for Yongguk to boost you up into it. On a sturdy branch-way, you looked out towards your home. It was closer than you expected from walking thus far and you gasped. You could see into the garden well from here.

“It was a full moon that night, was it not?”

You nodded. “I remember seeing it brightly in the sky when Daehyun was undoing my dress. How long did we walk for?”

“Ten minutes I believe.”

You glanced down at Yongguk, your eyes searching his for consolation as you became distressed. “It... it would have been that long as the fastens on my dress stumped Daehyun for some time.”

“And had the killer ran,” Yongguk offered, raising an index finger. “He would have been in the right place to capture you both.”

“Lucy was not his target? We did not see or hear her approach at all.”

“Hop down,” Yongguk offered, leaping up into the tree once you were grounded. You hugged yourself, searching for comfort as your body continued to chill.

Yongguk then cursed. “Had she taken the main path towards the lake, she could have very well been the target. In fact, I believe she may have been on the move before you and Daehyun even met.”

“You mean he lured her there?”

Yongguk nodded grimly. “There was a note found upon her body. She was meant to be meeting Lord Wilsford.”

“Why I was with him just before I went to see Daehyun,” you breathed in confusion and blinked slowly.

It all began to click. Snapping your focus up to Yongguk’s face, you fell into his embrace once he was down beside you again. “Could he be the killer?!”

“Well, there is only one way to find out.”

Smoothing down your dress as you waited in the doorway of your home, you curtsied in greeting to those entering for your Aunt’s birthday party two days following your grave discovery. You attempted to keep yourself present in the moment, and since you had acted a great deal over the years in attending such trifle celebrations, it came easier than you expected.

On the outside, you looked demurely relaxed whilst on the inside, you were a jittery mess. Especially since Yongguk had yet to arrive at the party.

However, the guest you were waiting most for entered a moment later. He smiled warmly. “My Lady! Beautiful as ever.”

“You flatter me too easily, Lord Wilsford,” you answered, hoping he did not feel the way in which your skin began to crawl upon his contact with it. Smiling brightly, you then curtsied. “May you have a splendid evening.”

“One in which we can spend time together, I do hope,” he suggested and you nodded in answer. “I look forward to it.”

“As do I.”

Turning as he moved through into the ballroom, you exhaled a breath you hadn’t been aware you were holding shakily. Your Father at your side turned to look at you. “Are you feeling well?”

“Yes, I am fine.”

“If you do not wish to-”

“It is expected that all eligible women appear to all and every gathering where she may be matched with a husband, is it not?”

“Yes, darling. However, if you are not yet ready, you mustn’t push yourself.”

You smiled and kissed him on the cheek. “On the contrary, tonight this is where I must be.”

“Then it’s settled. Tonight we shall find you a husband,” he announced as Yongguk came through the door, bowing silently in greeting. You merely responded with a curtsy, sharing a long look before he moved on into the party itself.

You relaxed some knowing he was finally here, and soon entered after him, keeping an eye out for Lord Wilsford’s activity. He spent some time charming the elders and then the mothers before finding you, taking your hand and kissing it fondly.

“I fear I left you alone for far too long tonight.”

“I was feeling rather deprived of good company,” you answered much to his delight.

“I knew I would win your heart after all,” he drawled as he took you out onto the dance floor, slipping easily into the well-known steps to this song. You mindlessly followed, trying to think of a way to entice him further.

The matter was, you had never once wanted this man’s attention and now that you sought it, you were drawing quite the blank.

Thankfully, he was none the wiser. “Y/N.”

“Yes, my Lord?”

“Do you feel it rather crowded in here?” Lord Wilsford asked and looking up at him suddenly, he chuckled at your widened expression. “My, I took you by surprise!”

“No, I just… wondered how you could read my thoughts so easily.”

“Should we head outside?”

“Oh, I do not know if that is safe. Did you not hear of what happened out there last time?”

“Do not worry, I will be with you.”

Smiling graciously at his reassurance, you stepped in closer to the man. “We will have to go separately as not to draw attention.”

“I have much to say to you tonight. Meet me by the lakefront shortly,” he instructed and acting coy, you nodded and bit at your bottom lip. Lord Wilsford chuckled and reached to kiss the top of your hand, this time more ardently than before.

You swallowed visibly. “I look forward to hearing it all.”

“My Lady,” he breathed, looking up into your eyes. “This night will be one you will never forget.”

“Is that so? Well then, I anticipate being enlightened by your memorable gift. I will wait long enough for my Father not to notice my departure.”

Lord Wilsford left and after a moment, Yongguk came up to your side, leading you over to the refreshments. “Well?”

“He told me to meet him at the lakefront and that it would be a night to remember.”

“Are you feeling up to it?”

Glancing up at the man, you nodded hesitantly. “It is the only plan we have to save Daehyun, right?”

“It could be-”

“You will be right there, as we discussed?” you intervened and Yongguk smiled.

“I will catch the killer and protect you.”

“Then what are we waiting for? I have no doubt, a rather deadly proposal waiting for me.”

You only hoped that hearing it would still end up with you alive afterwards.

_________________

Part 4

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kathyprior4200 · 4 years

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The Shadow and The Microphone

Alastor’s Shadow (Rotsala) and Alastor’s Microphone (Dave) have been a part of the Radio Demon since he arrived in Hell. Nobody except Alastor knows their actual names…and their names are ones they gave themselves. After Alastor made a deal with Kalfu and evil spirits in his human life and shortly after his death, he was granted with enough raw power to topple dominant overlords and spread terror to the denizens of Hell.

Alastor’s shadow was born of dark Voodoo magic. He first remained in human Alastor’s subconscious as dark matter (courtesy of Kalfu’s magic and Alastor’s mother wishing for Alastor to not be alone after death)… until he was free when his owner died. After gathering some ingredients and retrieving Dr. Facilier’s spell book, Alastor painfully separated his shadow from himself. After briefly feeling vulnerable in the dark, and almost attacking Alastor, the shadow submitted to him and became his body guard and companion. He helps Alastor control the other shadow demons and acts as a second in command in battle.

Like Dr. Facilier’s companion, Alastor’s shadow has a mind of his own and manifests as a dark apparition of Alastor’s most sinister thoughts and desires. He usually makes growling and cackling sounds (like Facilier’s shadow) but can communicate telepathically with Alastor. He frequently appears as a tall dark man with Alastor’s tuff ears, a wide grinning mouth, and glowing eyes. His eyes and mouth can change color from deep red to bright blue, to yellow and anything in between. He can switch between an Alastor form and a more sinister wendigo-like form with large fangs and a rack of antlers extending from his head. Alastor can also see through his shadow’s eyes, thus he also acts as a spy. Alastor’s shadow gains strength by eating the shadows of other demons, preventing them from moving and making it easier for Alastor to kill them.

Alastor’s microphone staff is a living part of him. The radio voice that comes from it is actually a radio version of his human voice. It first manifested as a non-magical microphone staff decorated with golden antlers around it that human Alastor had made to show off his famed radio host status. Alastor had used a bit of magic to gather more listeners around their radios. Sadly, it was broken and burned after his death. A dark entity merged with the red vintage microphone staff created for Alastor by the dark spirits/Loa. The microphone spoke “I heard you loud and clear!” in the first episode. Like Alastor’s shadow, the microphone has a mind of its own.

The microphone staff has a single red eye that glows when it is turned on. The microphone is what allows Alastor to broadcast his murders…the eye shines a light from the microphone. The microphone has other unique powers that could be an extension to Alastor’s many Eldritch powers of tentacles, teleportation, portals, blood magic etc. When the staff plays music mixed with static and demons stare at it too long, they can become hypnotized, eyes turning to red radio dials. Powerful radio waves can be blasted from the microphone with three taps of the staff to the ground. These waves can push demons back and blast their eardrums and brains. Alastor can swipe the staff to make things appear, as shown when he used it to make clothing appear on Vaggie. When Alastor goes full demon/wendigo form, the staff is used to mimic voices, sounds, and music to lure victims in (like Siren Head). But the microphone’s main purpose is to assist Alastor in his broadcasting.

Without those two beings, Alastor would’ve had more of a challenge taking over areas of Hell…and it’d be far less entertaining!

Chapter One: That’s Entertainment

“Well ladies and gentleman, Happy New Year and happy survival to all the lucky ones out there! The twenty four hours of the Extermination have passed and man, was it quite the show! The princess is shooting fireworks from the balcony as we speak, which means it’s safe to head out and try to claim new territory. Though if any of you sinners go near my radio towers, you’ll wish that the Exterminators had ended you right then and there. I hope you enjoyed this long and lovely broadcast. Until next time! Stay tuned.”

Alastor’s microphone soon blinked off from its glowing red state. The microphone let out a low mechanical groan of relief. Sure it was the microphone’s job to allow Alastor to broadcast massacres and music whenever he wanted, but even a device needed proper rest after a while. The microphone closed its single red eye and faded to sleep.

Alastor had spent the majority of the time broadcasting from within his lair, located underneath Hell and in the realm of shadow spirits. It had gotten the nickname “Deer Den,” by other sinners, though he liked the name as well. Soon though, he quietly arrived to the surface via portal to enjoy the finale of the screams, shrieks, and slaughters of the Exterminators cutting down demon after demon. Turning around from the wall-length glass window he glanced back toward a darkened corner of the studio.

“It’s alright, you can come out now,” he said in a radio voice.

A brief slither of movement in the dark space.

“Come on,” he coaxed. “No Exterminators, nor angelic spears to hurt us.”

Ever so quietly, the darkness inched forward to reveal a head poking out from within the wall. Out emerged Alastor’s shadow. He stood the same height as Alastor and had the same fluffy deer ear tufts and tattered dress coat that he wore. He even had a deer tail and antlers branching out from his head. The antlers shrank back as he opened his blue mouth an inch. There was a row of sharp dark teeth, and his eyes glowed blue. A chittering sound mixed with static emitted from the shadow as his eyes looked around for any sign of danger. There was only his owner standing in front of him.

“Good,” said Alastor as he looked at him. “Come along, we have work to do.”

The shadow obliged and pooled into the floor out of sight as he followed Alastor out the door.

As Alastor was walking, the shadow briefly floated up into the air, surveying the scene. There were bloodied bodies everywhere. Many of them had weapons pierced through their skulls or spilled organs. Alastor may have been a little hungry, but he was humming happily along the street instead, keeping an eye out for any useful angelic spears. He found one and happily plucked it from a horned demon corpse. The spear vanished in his hand, reappearing back in his lair.

Alastor ignored the brief pangs of hunger from his stomach. Just the smell of blood and decaying flesh in the air was beginning to make the demon’s mouth water a little as he hummed.

His shadow, on the other hand…

The sound of crunching came from behind the Radio Demon. Alastor’s ears flicked before he turned around. He cleared his throat and glared.

The shadow was on his knees in front of a dead demon, his mouth chewing on flesh and muscle like a starved wolf. He saw Alastor and froze, a piece of flesh falling from his mouth. It looked like a child being caught in the act of stealing a snack.

“What do you think you’re doing? You’re supposed to be looking for spears and watching my back.”

The shadow let out a deer bleat mixed with static. His voice sounded like snippets of different voices together.

“But I’m hungry!”

“There are more important things to focus on, dear fellow,” he said. “You’d be wise to learn some self-restraint.”

Reluctantly, the shadow wiped his mouth and hovered closer to Alastor.

“That’s better, now let’s be off.”

They soon arrived at one of the looming radio towers. The top of it had a blinking yellow eye that always peered in every direction like an all-seeing eye. It was constantly humming and retaining energy that lurked within the metal beams. There was a nearby cabin that served as one of many studios that Alastor had made for himself. It reminded him of his family’s summer cabin back when he was alive.

“Go make your round,” Alastor ordered. The shadow flew into the air, searching above and below for any intruders. There were no signs of any demon trying to cross the boarders or break in. After a few minutes, he returned by his owner’s side and chittered in affirmation.

With the areas clear and safe, Alastor made his way further into Pentagram city, his shadow vanishing again.

With his shoes clacking against the pavement, Alastor walked over behind a flaming blue deer overlord and Crymini, the Hellhound. Charlie was on TV, talking about her plan to open up a hotel to rehabilitate sinners.

Alastor stood behind two hellhound twins wearing crop tops and a hanging jester. Next to him was a poster that showed him in his demon form terrorizing the circus, demons trapped within flames inside the tent. His army of voodoo horned imps carrying knives and skulls on pikes surrounded the tortured sinners. The words were bold and full of warning: “BEWARE HIM!” “DO NOT FUCK WITH HIM!” In tiny letters off to the side on the wall read: “for a good time: 666-373-9494.”

Alastor tilted his head to the side in curiosity. His shadow appeared off to his right, morphing into a snarling wendigo deer-like creature. He couldn’t help but tap his foot and hum along as she sang.

The shadow stared in curiosity as well, his mouth open in hunger. He was anxious to witness Alastor mess with other demons again. He just hoped that if he happened to kill some that he’d get a good share of the meat. Sharing Alastor’s love of singing and music, the shadow swayed his body from side to side, even trying to sing along.

After Charlie had finished singing, Alastor laughed out loud. That was quite the performance he had seen! He particularly enjoyed Charlie’s demon transformation and her conjuring of fire for the special effects. And he had to admit that she was a good singer too, despite her ridiculous idea.

But his favorite part came up next.

In the blaring red lights, Charlie and Katie fought each other on the desk. Katie was in her insect demon form, crawling on her hands and limbs. She briefly held Charlie down, who dodged and then leapt at Katie, knocking both of them off the table.

“She’s pretty and has a feisty spirit,” Alastor thought.

“Why won’t anyone help me?” Tom Trench yelled as flames rose from his body.

“You’re on fire, Tom Trench!” Alastor exclaimed, while laughing at his own joke.

Befriending the princess, and doing something different seemed like a good idea. He glanced over at a faraway Happy Hotel building.

He knew where he would go next. His shadow vanished again.

After following the white limbo to the hotel in his car, he got out and made his way up to the double stained glass doors with the apple designs on them. Upon further inspection of the hotel, he noticed it was a unique design if not a bit under wear and tear. From the Titanic-like ship off to the side to the hanging carousel that made up a balcony…and perhaps his favorite part, the circus tent overhang in the front decorated with eye designs.

He had never actually met Charlie before but he heard that she was powerful and different among the demons. For one, she was born in Hell, and two, she was the daughter of Lucifer and Lilith, king and queen of Hell.

He would have to tread carefully around members of the royal family. Though he thought of them as amusing, he knew how powerful they were.

Sweat formed on his forehead and he found himself glancing around.

Why was he suddenly…nervous?

Somebody like him couldn’t afford to let any sign of weakness show. Of course He wanted to make a good first impression, plus he was sort of curious as to why she would pursue this rehabilitation idea. His nervousness faded away when he imagined Charlie as naïve. Maybe he could easily trick her and not have to be caught by anyone?

The best thing he could do for the moment was be polite and offer to help. As any good charmer and manipulator knew, first impressions and the process were everything…

And a nice big smile was the crème de la crème.

Puffing out his chest, he knocked on the door.

It was a very slow “Shave and a Haircut knock.”

The knocking from outside interrupted Charlie’s thoughts. She opened her eyes.

An ice cold feeling of dread spread through her veins. No other demon would ever do that kind of knock.

Unless…

She tentatively reached out her hand to the door handle, and quickly pulled it open.

Sure enough, the most feared demon in Hell was standing right outside her door. A couple of shadow spirits poked their heads through.

Charlie’s face morphed into sheer terror, eyes wide as saucers.

Yes, there she was, right in front of him. Alastor opened his eyes as they glowed red, a radio sound emitting from him. His staff turned on with a red glow. His eyes dilated playfully as he raised a finger in greeting.

“Hell…”

The door abruptly slammed shut.

Brief silence.

Charlie opened it again…

“…oooo!”

Slammed it again.

Alastor could hear Charlie’s muffled voice from inside.

“Hey Vaggie!”

“What?”

“The Radio Demon is at the door!”

“What?!”

“Who?” asked Angel.

“What should I do?!” Charlie asked.

“Well, don’t let him in!” Vaggie said.

A growl formed in Alastor’s throat.

He stood there, shocked in front of the stained glass door, smile still plastered on his face, hand and curved claw in the air.

“Well… that was…rude,” he thought. “Usually people are too sacred to answer when I come by. Or they rush to try and please me because they know I could slaughter them at any time. I’ll just wait here then…or maybe break this door down…”

He had been turned down not once but twice by her! If she had been an average demon, she would’ve been a bloody heap on the floor. The princess should know better than to reject anyone like that, especially a prideful demon like himself.

Any offense to his pride would not go unnoticed.

Charlie opened the door again.

“May I speak now?” Alastor asked, hiding his anger.

“You may,” said Charlie.

Alastor held out his right hand to her, which briefly glowed. He half expected her to reach out and shake it right away…which would’ve proven her naïve nature…but instead she just stood there.

“Alastor, pleasure to be meeting you, sweetheart, quite a pleasure.”

He eagerly grabbed her wrist and leaned his face close to hers before strutting inside. Charlie stood, dumbfounded, her hand still out.

“Excuse my sudden visit,” he went on, “but I saw your fiasco on a picture show and I just couldn’t resist. What a performance!”

Audience cheers came from his staff as he turned around.

“Why I haven’t been that entertained since the stock market crash of 1929!”

He bobbed his head side to side and burst into laughter. He glanced back at Charlie who was by the door. “So many orphans!”

A sharp spear was suddenly pointed at him. He froze in fear, his smile still on his face.

“Stop right there!” It was Vaggie.

She swore in Spanish under her breath: “Carbon hijo de perra! (Idiotic son of a bitch!) I know your game. And I’m not gonna let you hurt anyone here, you pompous, cheesy, talk show shitlord!”

Alastor’s eyes narrowed and glowed. He made a low noise of warning.

“You have a lot of nerve to stand up to me like that, girl,” he thought. “You don’t know anything about me, and you certainly aren’t going to stand in my way.”

Alastor merely laughed slightly and nudged the weapon away with his fingers. Charli and Vaggie were in front of him.

“Dear, if I wanted to hurt anyone here…”

He added in a low creepy tone, “I would have done so already.”

His red eyes briefly turned to red radio dials and radio static filled the room. He tilted his head slightly, letting his chaotic magic roam. Vaggie and Charlie were frozen in fear as they caught glimpses of red Voodoo symbols, static, and warped reality.

Then just as quickly, the noise and magic ceased and Alastor shook his head, eyes back to full red. For a brief moment, they had been small red pupils inside black sockets.

“That scare should teach them to remember their place,” he thought.

He bowed. “No, I’m here because I want to help!”

Charlie was sure she hadn’t heard him right.

“Say what now?” she asked, eyebrows raised.

“Help!” he responded with another laugh, leaning in close before moving back.

He held up his microphone staff.

“Hello?” he asked with a laugh. “Is this thing on? Testing, testing…”

He tapped it and a glowing red eye appeared in the center. “Well, I heard you loud and clear!” the microphone responded, eye shaking in fear.

The microphone didn’t take kindly to be shaken out of its stupor.

“Um…you want to help?” Charlie asked.

Alastor appeared behind the demon girls, hands on their backs, switching from a shadow to his regular self. Both Vaggie and Charlie flinched.

“With…” he mentioned in an imitation of Charlie’s voice,

“…this ridiculous thing you’re trying to do!” finishing in his normal voice. “This hotel!”

Charlie could hear the call bell ding twice on the table, even though no one was there to ring it.

“I want to help you run it.”

“Uh…why?” Charlie asked, confused.

Alastor laughed again. “Why does anyone do anything? Sheer absolute boredom! I’ve lacked inspiration for decades!”

He placed his elbow on an annoyed Vaggie’s head.

“My work became mundane...lacking focus…”

He then shoved Vaggie aside. She was clearly an inferior little doll he could push around.

“…aimless!” he continued. “I’ve come to crave a new form of entertainment!”

He laughed again.

Charlie looked downcast. “Does getting into a fist fight with a reporter count as entertainment?”

Alastor laughed again.

“It’s the purest kind, my dear! Reality! True passion! After all, the world is a stage! And the stage is a world of entertainment!”

Charlie brightened a bit. “So, does this mean that you think it’s possible to rehabilitate a demon?”

Alastor help up a hand and laughed. “Of course not. That’s wacky nonsense! Redemption, oh the non-existent humanity! Nononono, I don’t think there’s anything left that could save such loathsome sinners!”

He glanced at Vaggie and Angel Dust sitting on the sofa, mischief in his eyes. They would be fun to mess with.

“The chance given to them was the life they lived before; the punishment is this!”

He spread out his arms, turning away. “There is no undoing what is done!”

His eyes glowed red, pupils constricted. There really was no way to change the past. All the sinners were destined to suffer in a matrix of pleasure, illusion, and the threat of a second death. For Alastor, every demon was a lost cause…and paradoxically, that also included him.

He had dealt with authority figures before in his previous life…those racist religious folk who believed that God and the elite had complete control over his fate and the fate of everyone else. Now here it was again, in the form of God, the angels, Vox, Lucifer pretty much anybody he hated. It wasn’t his fault he killed and ate all his victims. If certain people hadn’t pushed him over the edge…

He glanced over when he heard Charlie’s voice.

“So then, why do you want to help me if you don’t believe in my cause?” Charlie asked.

Alastor smirked and looked at Charlie over his shoulder. “Consider it an investment in ongoing entertainment for myself!”

He pulled her close to him with his arm and twirled her around in a quick dance. Charlie narrowed his eyes at him and gave him a look. He ignored her. “I want to watch the scum of the world struggle to climb up the hill of betterment! Only to repeatedly trip and tumble down to the fiery pit of failure.”

Off to the side, his shadow appeared and cackled.

Alastor’s eyes glowed red and his left eyebrow raised slightly. Just the thought of having the fates and lives of demons in his hands was enough to get him excited…or perhaps even aroused.

“Right…” Charlie began, slowly removing his clawed hand from her shoulder. Alastor’s hand flinched at the sudden touch.

Alastor chuckled and took her aside for a walk. “Yes indeedy! I see big things coming your way, and who better to help than I.”

He impressed her further with some charm and making his staff appear in his hand.

Vaggie walked up to Charlie and pulled her aside.

“Charlie, listen to me. You just can’t believe this creep! He isn’t just a happy face! He’s a dealmaker, pure evil! He can’t be redeemed! And is most likely looking for a way to destroy everything we’re trying to do.”

Alastor drummed his fingers against his palm, listening in on their conversation with a grin.

“I…” Charlie began. “…we don’t know that. Look…I know he’s bad, and I know he probably doesn’t wanna change, but the whole point of this is to give people a chance! To have faith things will be better! How can I turn someone away? I can’t. It goes against everything I’m trying to do. Everything I believe in.”

Alastor stared in fascination at a family picture on the wall. It showed Lucifer dressed in white, Lilith in a dark purple dress, and Charlie as a little girl wearing a brown and white dress in the middle. The picture border consisted of branches and yellow eyeballs and a dried rose in the upper right hand corner.

“Such a lovely portrait! A picture of perfection! It’d be such a shame if something awful were to happen to them…”

“Just trust me,” Charlie added placing comforting hands on her girlfriend’s shoulders, “I can take care of myself.”

Charlie,” warned Vaggie, “Whatever you do, do not make a deal with him!”

From a distance, Alastor opened up the palm of one hand, claws curled inward, hand glowing. From his viewpoint it looked like he was grabbing onto both girls. They glanced in his direction, worry on their faces.

“I’ll have these two in the palm of my hand…”

“Don’t worry, Charlie replied to Vaggie. “I picked up one thing from my Dad…” she spoke in a manly voice, “Ya don’t take shit from other demons!”

Gathering her courage, Charlie marched over to the Radio Demon.

“Ok, so…Al. You’re sketchy as fuck, and you clearly see what I’m trying to do here is a joke. But I don’t.”

Charlie turned away. She was so close and so vulnerable. It took all of the shadow’s restraint not to lunge at Charlie and sink his teeth into her.

Red Voodoo symbols floated around Alastor as his eyes glowed.

“If you could stay turned around so I can knock you out…” he thought.

Charlie narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously and the symbols vanished.

“So close,” he thought in frustration as she turned around to face him.

Charlie continued. “I think everyone deserves a chance to prove they can be better. So, I’m taking your offer to help. On the condition that there be no tricks or voodoo strings attached.”

Alastor twirled his cane and held out his hand. “So it’s a deal then?”

Flashes of eerie green light surrounded him, electricity snaking up the walls. The shadow’s eyes turned green, his smile growing wider.

“Nope!” Charlie yelled, holding out her hands. The energy stopped. “No shaking! No deals!”

Alastor’s eyes constricted, and the shadow moped in the distance out of sight. “She rejected my deal,” he thought. “This will be more challenging than I expected.”

He walked forward a step.

Charlie continued. “As princess of Hell, and heir to the throne, I uh, hereby order that you help with this hotel, for a long as you desire.”

The shadow and the microphone hid in laughter. Her request was so vague, it left room for so many loopholes. That meant that Alastor could leave and betray the hotel whenever he saw fit.

A moment of pause…Alastor brushed his hair back.

“Sound fair?” she asked.

“Hmm. Fair enough. Cool beans.” Alastor shrugged, walking on and making his cane disappear. Charlie breathed a sigh of relief and even did a thumbs up.

Alastor stopped and spotted Vaggie off to the side. How pathetic she was, frowning like that. He smirked in a way outside observers would describe as lecherous. He tickled her under her chin with a finger.

“Smile, my dear! You know you’re never fully dressed without one!”

Alastor hummed happily on his way, while Vaggie growled in disgust and rage.

“So…where is your hotel staff?” Alastor asked.

“Uh, well…” Charlie began. Alastor peered at Vaggie through his monocle. “Oh ho ho ho, you’re going to need more than that.”

He walked over towards Angel.

“And what can you do, my effeminate fellow?”

Angel grinned. “I can suck your dick!”

Alastor could almost scream in disgust after hearing that.

“Ha! No.” Alastor deadpanned.

“Your loss,” Angel said with a slight laugh. Alastor summoned his cane.

“Well, this just won’t do!” Alastor exclaimed. “I suppose I can cash in a few favors to liven things up!”

The spell came easily in his mind: “dife sèvitè, reveye.”

He snapped his fingers and a fire sparked to life in a small circular fireplace. Animal skeletons decorated either side of the wall. The wall and fireplace were repaired.

A dark figure plopped down onto the chimney floor.

Alastor walked over and picked up the creature with his hand. A large single yellow eye was revealed. Angel, Vaggie, and Charlie peered at the creature. In a puff of smoke and a squeak, the creature revealed herself. A cute cyclops girl was wearing a pink dress with a poodle on the front, her short wide hair dark magenta with a streak of yellow.

“This little darling is Niffty!” Alastor introduced, before dropping her. She landed on her feet. She was an adorable little thing.

“Hi! I’m Niffty!” she greeted with a wave. “It’s nice to meet you! It’s been a while since I’ve made new friends!” She laughed slightly and her pupil grew smaller, darting in circles.

“Why are you all women?” she asked. “Have any men here?! I’m sorry, that’s rude.” She missed the fact that Angel was male, for obvious reasons.

She briefly picked up Charlie, while Vaggie held her spear defensively at her.

“Oh man, this place is filthy!” she exclaimed, running around and lifting up couch cushions. “It really needs a lady’s touch, which is weird, because you’re all ladies, no offence.” She chewed on a black spider she found, then rushed toward some stained glass windows.

She darted around, using a dust ruffle to clean them. “Oh my gosh, this is awful! No, no, no…Nope!”

She raced around, removing cobwebs, then poking at a piece of a voodoo doll. Well, it was actually a live blue beetle doll that Alastor had stabbed with a clothing pin for Niffty to play with. Alastor looked amused, while the others stared in disbelief.

“So fortunate of me to have met her in Hell. A former chimney sweeper in the 20th century. Heard she died from too much smoke. Services are still good! Though, I didn’t give her much of an option to begin with…” he thought.

Meanwhile, at a casino, a cat demon placed a joker, an ace, a 2, and a fourth card down on the table. He had black and white fur, wore a black top hat and had red wings with card suits decorated on them. He also had long red eyebrows and wore a red bow tie.

“Ha!” he declared in triumph. “Read ‘em and weep, boys!”

He suddenly felt himself being forcefully pulled out of the room through space and time.

“Full…whoa!”

“Transpòte ganbadeur la.”

He ducked as a curtain of red energy surrounded the existing space. Voodoo symbols flashed in the background along with eight yellow eyes, a creepy voodoo skull and a purple skeleton of a worm-like creature. Another voodoo skull with horns appeared for a moment not too far from tan ghost-like spirits with creepy faces and a row of jagged teeth.

The cat demon figured he must have had too much booze to drink.

“…the hell?”

As the images faded, he soon found himself at the hotel bar, not in the previous room at the casino. A large “Come and play Blackjack” sign took up much of the wall behind him. Most peculiar, the gray wood walls were missing halfway up, replaced by the red themed décor of the hotel. Husk was sitting in a portion of the casino he was in. It felt like he was in a house with no roof surrounded by the outside world.

“What the fuck is this?”

He saw Alastor and pointed an accusing claw.

“You.”

“Ah, Husker, my good friend!” Alastor cheerfully greeted. “Glad you could make it!”

Husk could have at least been polite for once, but Alastor decided to let it slide.

Alastor’s head briefly had the appearance of large antlers sticking out from either side. When he moved it, it was revealed to be an antler skull with glowing green eyes hanging in the background. Snakes were wrapped around one of the white curtains supporting a bar stand. “Big Booze,” “Welcome” and “Big Soul” signs were placed overhead on the stand. Neon green card suits consisted of the designs at the bottom of the stand.

“Don’t you “Husker” me, you son of a bitch!” Husk spat, and swiped Alastor’s hand aside from his shoulder. “I was about to win the whole damn pot!”

Husk stared in anger as the stacks of money and chips on the table vanished in static.

“Good to see you too!” added Alastor.

Husk face palmed. “What the hell do you want with me this time?”

Alastor grabbed hold of him, startling him so much that cards fell from his hands.

“My friend, I am doing some charity work, so I took it upon myself to volunteer your services! I hope that’s okay.”

Husk was taken aback. “Are you shittin’ me?!”

“No, I don’t think so,” Alastor replied. He casually brushed off his sleeves.

Husk shoved the Radio Demon off him. “You thought it would be some kind of big fuckin’ riot just to pull me outta nowhere? You think I’m some kinda fuckin’ clown?”

“Maybe.”

Audience laughter emitted from the microphone.

“I ain’t doin’ no fuckin’ charity job,” Husk protested.

Alastor appeared next to him, startling the cat demon. “Well I figured you would be the perfect face to man the front desk of this fine establishment.”

He pointed toward the bar stand with the staff. The sound of audience clapping came from his radio staff.

“With your charming smile and welcoming energy…”

Alastor spread the corners of Husk’s mouth upward into a demonic smile of yellow teeth. Husk frowned seconds after he let go.

“…this job was made for you!”

Alastor strutted over toward the bar stand, the soles of his shoes revealing red hoof prints as he walked.

“Don’t worry, my friend,” Alastor continued, “I can make this more welcoming…if you wish.”

With a curve of his fingers, a green bottle of cheap booze appeared on the counter.

Husk stared with wide eyes, suddenly very thirsty. He swore he could hear the sound of a slot machine.

“What, you think you can buy me with a wink and some cheap booze?!” He took the bottle on anger. “Well you can!”

He immediately guzzled it down and walked away.

“Too easy,” thought Alastor.

By this time, Charlie, Vaggie and Angel Dust had arrived to see what the commotion was about. Vaggie rushed toward the bar, furious.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey!” yelled the moth demon. “No, no bar, no alcohol. This is supposed to be a place that discourages sin! Not some kind of…mouth, brothel, man-cave…”

Angel lunged himself into her, knocking her to the floor.

“Shut up! Shut! Up! We are keeping this.” He pointed at Husk with multiple gloved hands.

He slid up to Husk. “Hey,” he said in a flirtatious voice.

“Go fuck yourself,” Husk deadpanned, drinking his booze.

“Only if you watch me,” Angel retorted.

To make matters worse for Husk, Charlie leaned in close to him, excitement and red stars in her eyes.

“Oh my gosh! Welcome to the Happy Hotel! You are going to love it here!”

“I lost the ability to love years ago,” Husk replied, gulping down more booze.

Alastor walked in, an ever-present grin on his face.

“So, what do you think?”

Charlie ran over to him. “This is amazing!” she beamed.

Alastor’s eyes blinked rapidly at the sweet sight of Charlie rubbing her cheeks and smiling at him. He could watch it all day.

“It’s okay,” Vaggie said from nearby, arms crossed.

Alastor laughed and pulled the two girls close to him. “This is going to be very entertaining!”

He shoved Vaggie again and his laughter mixed with the sound of an old radio.

Alastor conjured fire in his hand…Charlie stared in wonder at the flames and the voodoo symbols. He threw the flames in the air, distracting Charlie from him shoving aside her friend hard. Alastor then changed his attire with magic. He now wore a fancy red suit with a white undershirt and a black bow tie. A red top hat appeared on his head, complete with small spikes along the black band and two needles sticking out from the top. He twirled Charlie around in a dance, the princess looking stunned. Pointing his finger over her head, he transformed Charlie’s outfit. Her blonde hair was now short and wavy. She wore an elegant black and red dress, black gloves, a pink hat with a small black bow and black heels. She looked like a dapper lady from the early 20th century.

Charlie stared at her conjured clothing in amazement.

Vaggie was on the floor, fuming.

Alastor began to sing as he danced with Charlie, a new spring in his steps.

“You have a dream

You wish to tell

He turned to the fuming Vaggie on the floor, letting her know that he thought Charlie’s idea was silly.

“and it’s so laughable…”

He turned back to Charlie.

“But hey kid, what the hell!”

Alastor picked Charlie up and threw her into the air. She yelped in delight and landed gracefully next to him. Two glowing apples and a skull with deer horns flashed in the background.

Reality had been altered to the Radio Demon’s liking. The entire room was lit in psychedelic colors. Voodoo symbols and shapes were etched in every nook and cranny, including a pair of pink claws reaching for the door. Alastor and Charlie waltzed in the spotlight as electro swing music began to play in the distance. The all-encompassing noise, though, was the signature radio-static sound.

Charlie found herself sliding down one of the apple-etched railings, Alastor leading the way. They landed on the lower floor as Alastor continued his reprise.

“Cause you’re one of a kind

A charming demon belle!”

Deer statues and painted antlers were everywhere.

Back at the bar stand, Husk sat looking bored. Vaggie hissed at Angel grabbing onto her shoulder, while Niffty stared in wonder. Alastor snapped his fingers and their outfits changed as well.

Angel was wearing a neon pink suit, Husk a pink bow tie, Vaggie a dark dress, with her hair now smooth and long, and finally Niffty, with a cute top hat with small flowers.

“Now let’s give these burning fools a place to dwell

(Take it, boys!)”

Alastor snapped his fingers once more and shadowy imps rose to life from a hole in the ground. The happy spirits played a trumpet, a tuba, and a drum set. Charlie snapped her fingers to the beat, while Vaggie watched with worry. She reached out to her friend but was pulled away by Alastor. He enveloped the group into a tight hug with a laugh, followed by glowing images of dark spirits staring at them. Niffty watched in amazement, but not the other three.

“Inside of every demon is a lost cause…”

Alastor pulled Husk and Angel close again. He rubbed Angel’s head with a white hat and went on his merry way. Husk gave him the bird as he left.

“But we’ll dress ‘em up now with just a smile!”

(With a smile!)

Vaggie stood, annoyed in the spotlight. Using his cane, Alastor added a feathered peacock hat and a white fox fur to her outfit. She looked ridiculous. Then out of nowhere, he slapped her butt.

Vaggie seethed in rage after he walked away.

Alastor danced some more, kicking a horned skull to the side. In the background, Niffy happily swept up the bits of bone.

“And we’ll chlorinate this cesspool

With some old redemption flair

And show these simpletons some proper class and style!

(What’s in style? Oh!)”

He made his way to the circular fireplace, where he waved his staff. Shadows arrived to join the party, including his own shadow, with large antlers and fangs. The shadow grabbed onto his shoulders and grinned, his mouth and eyes blue. Alastor made him disappear in a poof, then snuck toward Charlie. He led her in an upbeat dance, spinning her around, helping her match her steps to his. Charlie blushed when Alastor toyed with her cheeks. As Charlie was led away, Vaggie stood in the background, horrified and disgusted. What was happening to her friend?

Charlie and Alastor laughed as they danced, the princess locked in a happy trance. Alastor was in his element, his pupils dilated, a joyful demeanor.

Maybe this could turn into something more? Could it even be…love?

“Here below the ground

I’m sure you’re plan is sound!

They’ll spend a little time

Down at this Hazbin Ho…”

Alastor was about to finish his song, when an explosion burst apart a window behind him. He stood frozen, pupils constricting, his body going alert.

Whatever, or whomever had interrupted his song was going to pay dearly.

Niffty stared in amazement, shouting “Whoo!” before she was blasted backwards, the door hitting her in the face.

Alastor’s spell soon wore off and everyone was back in their regular clothes. Alastor, Husk (still drinking), Niffty, Charlie, Angel, and Vaggie, peered out of the hole to see what was going on. Vaggie had her weapon at the ready.

Looking skyward, the group saw a cracked blimp in the air. It had a small random band aid with a sad face on it along the rim. A familiar snake villain popped out of his hideout.

“Ha!” Sir Pentious laughed. “Well, well, well, look who it is harboring the striped freak! We meet again, Alastor!”

Apparently, he was also rivals with Alastor.

But Alastor simply asked, “Do I know you?”

The snake boss looked disappointed. Then he said in anger, “Oh yes you do! And this time, I have the element of…surprise!”

The villain raced toward his pink velvet chair and pulled a lever. A metallic cannon lowered to the ground. The cannon fired up with pink energy as pink smoke appeared around them.

“He laughed manically. “I’m so evil!”

Then he added, “I have an Egg army!”

“Well, we have an Alastor,” Charlie responded.

Alastor snapped his fingers, red tendrils of smoke rising from his hand. The weapon froze in mid fire and a fiery portal opened up below the blimp.

A horde of black tendrils rose from the hole, latching onto the ship. One tentacle ripped off the cannon and threw it into another smaller portal, causing it to explode in pink smoke. One of the tentacles had already smashed a hole in the large round window.

Sir Pentious looked on in shock as his Egg Bois slammed against the wall (one of them read #Ouch.) One of the eggs cracked open, spilling out yellowish brains and small organs among the stains of yok. Sir Pentious and another minion were thrown against the wall.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” he screamed before he was slammed against the ceiling by a black limb.

“Oh, that hurt!” he cried.

Sir Pentious screamed as he was dragged along the floor and lifted up slightly. He was held in place, surrounded by the wrapped up tendril. At once, the tendril shrunk and squeezed the helpless snake. The Egg Bois ran around screaming as black cracks appeared on the floor and walls.

From the outside, more black tendrils were closing in. Red voodoo symbols appeared around the blimp.

“Ede m 'sèrviteur.”

Four horned shadowy spirits with red auras floated around, wearing toothy grins.

The tendrils were now wrapped around the entire blimp, holding it in place like thick black vines.

Red radio waves filled Alastor’s eyes as he circled his fingers and worked is magic. Voodoo symbols appeared all around him as he altered the state of reality. Radio static consumed the air.

The vines thickened and completely enclosed the blimp. The spirits swooped around it in excitement, with echoing shrieks. The aura around the tendrils glowed a fiery yellow, the same color as the portal rim.

“Kalfu! Destriksyon pa bra nwa.”

Alastor closed his four-fingered hand which began to glow. A red drop of blood fell from his glowing hand. The tendrils proceeded to crush the blimp. Pink rays of light shot from the center and the blimp exploded in a loud BOOM!

Pink smoke spread everywhere as the spirits sped away. The tendrils broke into severed bloody pieces that rained down to the ground. Alastor smiled victoriously, while behind them, the group of five stared in utter terror and shock. (Save for Niffty who had a small smile on her face).

Alastor’s angry, bloodlust eyes spoke volumes.

“And stay out of this hotel and from my friends you pathetic excuse of snakeskin.”

A sharp pain throbbed on his hand and bags appeared under his eyes. Magic had taken some work from him…and it also made him hungry.

“Well, I’m starved!” Alastor exclaimed, turning around to face the group, happy again. “Who wants some jambalaya?” He spread his arms out. “My mother once showed me a wonderful recipe for jambalaya! In fact, it nearly killed her!”

He laughed as he led the way back to the hotel. The others followed.

“You could say the kick was right out of Hell!”

He added while laughing at his own joke, “Oh, I’m on a roll!”

From up above, the hotel looked like a mashed-up haunted house. An old dark train was perched on a balcony, with some monstrous faces carved in. A ship, reminiscent of the Titanic, was leaning upwards against the building as part of the structure. An old carousel served as part of the upper balcony and windows. Skull designs decorated the small windows in a row. Finally, on top of a giant yellow eye, was the sign “Happy Hotel” supported by pillars of worn wood.

Alastor continued, “Yes, sir, this is the start of some real changes down here! The game is set! Now…”

He glanced up and pointed his finger toward the sign. Pink electricity shot out and made contact with the sign.

The sign now read “Hazbin Hotel.”

“Stay tuned,” he finished with a low sinister laugh.

#hazbinhotel #alastor #alastorsshadow #alastorsmicrophone

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avalon987 · 4 years

Text

The river

A story which is part of a collection

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Punjab

India

1710

Priti liked to discover the infinite possibilities of the nature around her when she was a young girl.

She particularly liked to climb the trees.

But her favourite activity was to swim in the nearby river.

She loved to let her body drift with the current.

Priti also liked to watch the reflections of the sun on the surface of the water forming myriads of diamond like shapes.

It was her happiest moment.

But now, she was forty year old just recently widowed.

She loved her husband dearly. She felt totally lost. They did not have children because she was infertile, but they took care of many of them in the village like they were their own.

She decided that she would leave her house.

Priti wanted go back to nature to live a simpler life.

Most people thought that she became mad after her husband’s death.

She built a hut near the river she loved when she was a child, with the branches she found around it.

She would only devote her time to meditate and to pray. She wanted to experience her deepest truth. She laughed all the time very loudly.

Priti liked to watch the birds elaborating their nest. The ballet of all the insects in the air around her was a great source of joy.

Sometimes, some people that she took care when they were children came to visit to check on her.

Priti was so radiant that they thought that she had found comfort by living in the middle of the wilderness.

She had the habit of talking to the people who came to see her of what inspired her at the moment; strangely they felt better and more relaxed afterwards.

More and more people turned out.

Some of them thought that she could heal many illnesses only if you talked to her.

Priti listened intensely. She always gave some piece of wisdom or advice to her visitors.

Her reputation grew in the region.

She became the sage that all types of persons came to consult.

One day a dignitary named Sanjal from the court of the maharajah arrived.

He suffered from chronic headaches, and all the doctors he had consulted before could not help him

“Just listen to your body and you will find the answers.” Priti said to him.

“what do you mean?” said Sanjal.

“Listen to what your headaches want to tell you, they come to help you, and when you do that, they will disappear.” said Priti.

Sanjal was not impressed by Priti. He left her disappointed.

The following night, Sanjal had a dream about the maharajah’ son who was in grave danger. He was there to protect him and to save him from death.

Sanjal woke up with a massive headache.

He thought about what Priti told him, and strangely his headache lowered in intensity.

Sanjal went back to see her and told her about his dream.

“Now, you know what to do, if you listen everything will be fine.” said Priti

When Sanjal left Priti, he felt more alive.

He had better sense of his higher purpose.

He went to the court where he was an advisor to the maharajah, and he told him his concerns about the prince, but the maharajah did not listen dismissing it as superstition.

During the same period, the wife of a rival ruler who fought against the maharajah went to visit Priti.

She just lost her husband who had been killed by the maharajah during the battle.

“Until you forgive, you won’t be free.” said Priti to the lady.

“Suffering it’s only an illusion created by the mind.”added Priti.

When the maharajah died, his son succeeded him,

but he was too young to rule without guidance because he was only twelve year old.

One day while he was playing in the palace garden, a very venomous snake came at an extremely close distance to him being very menacing.

Sanjal, who was near, rushed to rescue the young king, and he chopped the snake’s head off.

Since that day, Sanjal became a close confident and the main advisor of the new maharajah.

He advised him to always carry a weapon with him. Sanjal noticed that some people in the palace looked more agitated than usual since his father’s death.

Not long after, a group of men wanted to overthrow the young king in a coup. They tried to kill him, but because he was always armed and on his guard, he defeated them with the help of other guards.

He thanked Sanjal for his advice.

Sanjal went to see Priti to tell her that his chronic headaches stopped.

“you see, when you open your heart, everything starts to flow and makes your life better.”said Priti

After many years, the widow of the rival of the maharajah’s father who came to see Priti a long time ago thought that it was time to forgive.

She decided to marry her daughter to the new king to form an alliance among the Sikh people.

The new maharajah, who had been nourished by long discussions he had with Sanjal during these years, considered that all the new territories he could conquer would enjoy more religious freedom even though he wanted to become the leader of the Sikh people. When the opportunity to take back the city that the Afghan kings administered, he decided to do what no other maharajah had done before: he conquered it following the advice his mother in law gave him.

He formed what would be later called the Sikh empire.

Sanjal assisted the best he could his king during his reign but now he was older. He wanted to go a different route. The different conquests had been very demanding.

The maharajah thanked him for his services.

He wished him good luck.

Sanjal went to visit Priti to decide what he would do next.

“How do you look so young and radiant?” Sanjal asked.

“You remember what I told you a long time ago, the key is to be attentive and to listen.” said Priti.

Sanjal pondered upon these words. He decided that he wanted to travel. He would meet different spiritual teachers to listen to what they had to say.

He started to go all over the Indian peninsula.

During this period, the situation was very chaotic and dangerous, but Sanjal was determined to do it.

He visited temples, mosques and gurus.

He was still not satisfied by what he heard.

The next step for him was to go abroad to meet different masters.

Sanjal went to Jerusalem, Egypt, Rome, Paris and London.

His journey took him three years to complete.

Upon his return, Sanjal enquired to know if Priti was still alive. He found her like usually under her favourite tree next to the river.

“I’m so happy to see you, and I’m glad you still remember to come to see me.” said Priti.

“I travelled extensively the last years, I went over to many countries, and I heard so many languages.

I listened to a plethora of teachers but I still feel empty and I yearn for more knowledge in the dusk of my life.” said Sanjal.

“Give me your hand, let’s go to have a swim in the river.” said Priti.

“Oh my dear friend, I am too old for that!” answered Sanjal.

“If not for a swim, let’s go only to knee-deep.” said Priti.

Sanjal followed her to the river

“Take water in your hand, and feel it between your fingers. Without water, life would not be possible but sometimes water can cause harm. It’s just a possibility. Water is energy. Think of all the good you did in your existence, all the mistakes you made, and all the people you touched by your actions.

Like water you are energy. Water does not look for fulfilment, it’s just a source of creation. Like water you play your part, and for that I’m extremely grateful to have known you” said Priti.

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ohdeputy · 4 years

Text

100 Letters PART IX

Arthur Morgan x John Marston

Words: 6,545

Read on Archive

Part VIII

The sky was a perfect shade of blue, with fluffy clouds that made John feel like he was sitting inside of a painting. He had spent the past few days enjoying the warmer breeze the wind carried alongside Albert’s presence. He was grateful for the man’s hospitality but had grown eager to return to the gang.

John hoped they were okay, not having heard any word from anyone since his arrival at Albert’s cabin. It wasn’t unusual, since they were undoubtedly just keeping a low profile, but he was uneasy nevertheless.

Luckily, most of the time Albert kept John preoccupied with helping him do his photography. It kept his mind free from the anxiousness he felt. John had become an assistant of sorts, aiding Albert in finding the best spots to photograph wildlife.

“Here?”

The sun shined down on John as he set Albert’s tripod on the ground amidst a clearing. The photographer’s head popped up from digging around in his bag, “yes, that’s perfect, Mister Marston!”

“John,” he corrected with a smile.

Albert gave a sheepish grin, returning to his bag once more, “right, apologies. John.”

John had spent their time together constantly reminding the other man to call him by his first name, yet Albert always retreated to his polite roots. It was certainly a contrast to what he was used to, not at all close to the usual treatment he received as a wanted outlaw. Of course, John didn’t believe the man to be naive, how he must know that the likes of him and Arthur were not like most other people. But Albert didn’t seem to care, at least he never voiced any concerns on the matter.

Albert came up beside John, holding the camera he’d retrieved from his bag. Carefully, he placed it on the head of the tripod, setting it up to angle slightly upward.

They were after the Pileated Woodpecker. A tough subject to capture, in Albert’s words. He thought that with their combined effort, he may be able to finally pull the feat off. John suggested this area, sure to travel to a dense enough part of the forest where the bird would likely be spotted.

“I’ve put some berries out in hopes of attracting one,” Albert motioned over to where he came from. “Now all that’s left to do is to wait.”

“Sure.” John stood beside Albert, following his line of sight to the tops of the trees.

Albert produced a pair of binoculars to search above them. Every once in a while he’d tense when it looked like he had spotted something, only to slouch in disappointment when it wasn’t the woodpecker he was in search of.

Eventually, John sat himself against a trunk of a nearby tree, patiently waiting in the comfort of its shade. He tried not to let his mind wander, instead, taking in the beauty of nature that surrounded them. He felt at peace watching the birds fly above, and the tiny squirrels and rabbits that scurried around the forest floor.

A small gasp escaped Albert, who pointed a finger toward a nearby tree, “there.”

John followed his gaze to where he gestured, seeing a ghost of white feathers against the trunk. Upon further inspection, he could make out a streak of red running down the head of the woodpecker. “Whoa.”

John slowly got up to get closer to Albert, who adjusted his camera to get a good shot.

“He doesn’t have any black feathers,” John quietly stated.

Albert gave a short nod, “right you are.”

“He doesn’t look like the other ones, he’s different.”

Albert pressed down to take the picture, sending a plume of smoke to the air with the sound of the shutter ringing out for a split second. Surprisingly, the ghost woodpecker didn’t fly off from the commotion, barely even flinching as it moved its head in their direction.

“It seems not only were we successful in finding one but stumbled across a rather rare variation of the species!”

John studied it, almost convinced that the creature was studying them back with intelligible eyes. He was beautiful but stood out like a sore thumb amongst the dark branches and leaves.

“Must be lonely,” John thought aloud. “Being the only abnormal one around. Are you not disappointed that he doesn’t look like the rest?”

“On the contrary!” Albert turned to smile broadly at him, “this particular woodpecker is a gift! You see, nature can be so exciting. Just when you think you’ve come to understand it, it throws you something unexpected. To find a bird different from the others is refreshing, such things should be cause for celebration in a world that can be so bland at times.”

John let Albert’s thought sink in, deciding he liked the other man’s perspective on it. He’d called it a gift, whereas others might’ve called it a flaw. He continued thinking about it for a while, lingering on his mind even as they packed up the equipment and took the decent walk back to their horses.

By the time John and Albert made it to the cabin, the day was coming to a close. He was starting to grow fond of Alberts simple life tucked away in the forest, but once again felt the anxious pull of not hearing from anyone back at camp. Luckily, the few days here had given his body the chance to heal, admittedly finding his current living arrangements much more agreeable. It was nice to sleep under a proper roof for once.

The next morning, John woke up alone without any sign of Albert. Upon entering the kitchen, he found a note in Albert’s writing saying that he took a trip to the post office and that he didn’t wish to disturb John.

Retreating back to the main room, John couldn’t help but study the odd things that cluttered the space. There were devices strewn about that he couldn’t name if he was asked to. No doubt more equipment Albert used for his photography. The whole house was like a museum that continued to mesmerize John with each following day.

Out of the corner of his eye, a picture on the front page of a newspaper caught his attention. He furrowed his brow, thinking his eyes to deceive him in seeing who he thought it was. Moving closer to the desk it lay on, he felt his blood run cold at the realization that he had been right. There, staring at John was a picture of Nico. His eyes dropped to the writing underneath which stated:

After months on the run, the Van der Linde Boys are still evading capture. With the events of the Blackwater Massacre still fresh in our minds and the murder of the innocent Heidi McCourt (pictured above), along with many others, we wonder why they are still at large.

John had to still his hand as he read, not believing the words on the paper. There was that name again, ‘Heidi McCourt’. It taunted him from the page, making him wonder where it had come from. Who the hell is Heidi McCourt?

Whoever she was, she wasn’t Nico. That much John was sure of. And as much as he was curious about the name, he was more annoyed at how clever Dutch’s story was. If Nico was working for the law, or the Pinkertons, there was no way they would admit publicly having her be associated with them. Her death would’ve only been tying up a loose end. Of course, John knew it was all a lie, wishing there was some way to clear her name. He wished he knew more.

Turning the page over, he continued reading under the bold headline of:

TWENTY-SEVEN DEAD AT THE VALENTINE SHOOTOUT. EIGHT LOCALS.

Eight locals?! John wondered to himself. Shaken to the core of how this was caused by the event he was present for only a couple of days prior.

Even if these locals did wield guns in defense of their town, he was sure Dutch would be able to avoid shooting one, never mind eight innocent people. His heart dropped a little at the thought of Arthur being there, too.

The Valentine shootout is believed to be the result of the earlier robbery of a Leviticus Cornwall transport coach, catching the attention of the Pinkerton Detective Agency in the investigation to whether the train robbery and Blackwater Massacre are in any relation to the same group of outlaws.

He tossed the newspaper aside, worked up from the anger that rose inside him. This was all Dutch’s fault. He was becoming this unstoppable force backed by greed and foolish choices that would be the undoing of their gang. It would only be a matter of time before his vicious nature would unravel out of control.

So overwhelmed by the contents of the newspaper, John almost didn’t notice the sound of Albert entering through the front door.

“Ah, John! Good morning, sir. Are you well?”

John gave a nod, “sure.” He tried to give the man a convincing smile as he forced his gloomy thoughts from his mind. He noticed a small parcel in Albert’s hands, curiosity piquing his interest.

“You pick something up?”

Albert looked down at the small package as if he had forgotten about it, “oh, yes! Some of my prints arrived today, would you like to see them?”

John nodded enthusiastically, and watched as Albert gently undid the string that tied the wrapping together. He then came over to sit beside John.

Albert unfolded the papers to reveal a short stack of photographs, picking up the first one which depicted a buck. Its head was up, with knowing eyes that seemed to stare right at John. His antlers reached toward the skies, complementing the mountainous terrain he stood in front of.

John couldn’t help from reaching to take the photo from Albert’s hand to inspect it more closely. “That’s amazing!”

“Ah, yes, I remember that buck. Gave me quite the challenge, he did. I originally was after capturing a deer, but couldn’t seem to shake this one’s attention. The nerve of the animal, tried to run me over! And almost succeeded, too.”

Albert lifted the second picture, “see, here she is.” He handed it over for John to see. Sure enough, this one showed a deer nibbling some berries from a bush, completely unaware of the camera.

“Oh,” Albert gave a little chuckle, already having moved onto the next picture. I think you’ll quite enjoy this one.”

John accepted the photo he held out, seeing an action shot of a coyote running off with Albert’s bag hanging from its mouth.

“Cheeky little thing, that one. If it weren’t for your friend, I’d have never gotten my things back!”

John looked up at Albert, “Arthur help you with this one?”

“He did, indeed! And with another, too. Let me see if I can find it,” Albert started shuffling through the photos in his hand, but John was distracted by the next picture in the stack. He blinked, smiling to himself a little as he came to the conclusion that this one was by far his favourite.

He gingerly picked it out from the stack, Albert letting him as he continued to search.

“It’s got to be in this batch somewhere, I know I sent that reel out. You see, there were these God forsaken creatures that almost killed me! Managed to snap a few good ones before they tried ripping me to shreds, though…” Albert continued talking, but John tuned out as he studied the photo in his hands.

It was a picture of Arthur, who was smiling. It was a genuine one, which proved to be a rare sight for John. Somehow the image alone made him feel butterflies in his stomach, the way his smile reached his eyes with how they crinkled. He was captured from the waist up, holding one hand on his hip and the other up like he was about to say something. It was a candid shot where he wasn’t looking at the camera, which probably made sense as to why Albert was able to print it. If Arthur had known, there was no way he would’ve let him.

John couldn’t tear his eyes away, Arthur’s image was always well captured in photographs. Most of the pictures they had growing up were group photos where no one smiled, not like this. This one rendered John in awe, the exact moment living on forever through the photograph. It made him wish he could go back in time and capture some of his favourite memories together.

“Here it is!” Albert produced a photo from the pile before noticing John’s attention on the one he already held.

Albert leaned over to look at it. “Right! I almost forgot about that picture, I got it printed with the intention of gifting it to Mister Morgan. He’s been so helpful with my foolish endeavour, I really felt I owed him.”

“Well, if I know Arthur I’m sure he enjoyed helping you, he’s too curious not to. He’s got so many stories about the people he’s met, I’m not at all surprised that you’d be one of them.”

Albert gave a little chuckle, “he is definitely an interesting man. Nevertheless, would you mind passing it on to him? I’d very much appreciate it.”

“Sure, yeah..” John got up to find his satchel, placing the photograph inside with the intention of giving it to Arthur. Eventually, that is. For now, he thought he might hang onto it. And even as Albert went on to ramble about the other animal encounters he’d experienced while taking their likeness, John thought about how none could compare.

A steady knock at the door made John suddenly look up and Albert almost jump out of his skin with an “Ahh!” Taking a moment to compose himself, he stood and went to answer the door.

“Hello, can I help you?”

“Hi. Is John here?”

John peered over to see a familiar form stood at the entrance, making him stand up abruptly. “Charles, that you?”

Charles noticed John, giving him a relieved smile before his eyes darted back to Albert.

“This is Albert Mason, a good man. He’s been helping me get back on my feet these past couple days.”

Charles gave Albert a stern nod, “Seems we owe you our thanks.”

Albert bashfully waved it away, “it was of no trouble, I assure you, sir.”

“Please, Charles.”

John swore he could see Albert’s cheeks heat up a little as he continued, “Well then, would you like to come in for a cup of tea, Charles?”

“Thank you, but I’ve come to collect John and I’m sure he’s eager to return-”

“Yes! Yes,” John interrupted, “how is everyone? Did everyone make it okay?”

“Everyone’s fine. Abigail and the little one are safe, Arthur was the last to join us.”

John let out a breath, “good, that’s good.”

Thank God, he was relieved that everyone made it in one piece. A new flood of anticipation for returning overcoming him from the news.

“I’ll let you say goodbye,” Charles said as he gave him and Albert a nod, retreating to the horses.

John turned back to Albert, “thank you, for everything. How can I ever repay you for the kindness you’ve shown me?”

Albert gave a modest shake of his head, “please, as I told your friend, it was of no bother. Might I say, I rather enjoyed the company.”

“Well then, it’s been a pleasure,” John held out his hand to Albert, who looked down at it for a brief moment before clamping it in a firm grasp. The other man’s eyes glistened a little before he pulled John into a hug. Caught off by the gesture, John hesitated before giving Albert a slight pat on the back.

Albert pulled back, already apologizing profusely, “sorry, John, forgive me. I just-I hope the world treats you a little kinder in future.”

John smiled slightly at that. Albert was a kind man that he was grateful to have met, even if it was under such a terrible circumstance.

“And please,” he continued, “if you ever find yourself in the area, do not hesitate to stop by.”

John nodded, “of course. Thanks again, Albert.”

Walking back into the makeshift bedroom in Albert’s cabin, he took one last look around the room. He’d be lying if he said he wouldn’t miss the comfort of the place.

Grabbing his gunbelt from where it sat idle for the past few days, John secured it around his waist before picking up his coat and satchel. As he left the cabin for the last time, John found Charles waiting by his horse for him.

He looked up when John approached, “ready to go?”

John gave a firm nod, climbing on the back of Old Boy.

“Let’s go.”

Charles took the lead, mounting and walking his horse in the direction of the pathway away from the secluded cabin. John looked back to Albert, who stood at the entrance. He waved them off, and John returned the farewell with a flick of his hand.

The two spurred their horses, leaving the cabin behind them in their pursuit of the main path. They eased into a steady pace through the countryside, careful to avoid any roads that were known to be busier.

John forced Old Boy to ride up next to Charles, “how’s the new spot? Is it a good place to lie low?”

Charles gave a stiff nod, “It’s definitely more secluded than the last place. I found it myself.” He looked over to John, “figured I could be the one to show you.”

Charles turned his gaze back to the road ahead of them once more. John noted the way his expression seemed more hardened than usual, brows creased to indicate his loss in thought. It wasn’t unlike Charles to be reserved, but John sensed something was bothering him.

“I’m glad you’re the one who came to get me, it’s good to see you.”

Charles’ features softened somewhat as his attention focused back on John, “of course. I’m glad you’re okay, do you remember what happened?”

John frowned slightly at the thought of what happened back in Valentine. “Not much, I, uh, wasn’t with Dutch n’ Arthur when everything went down with Cornwall.”

“I heard. I’m glad Arthur found you. From how he described the whole thing, you’re lucky to have gotten out of there.”

John nodded, feeling his skin crawl from the recent memory. “How much did he tell you?”

“Only a little.” Charles paused for a moment before adding, “he seemed.. off when we spoke.”

“How do you mean?”

Charles took his time in replying as if choosing his words carefully. “He seemed a little wary of how Dutch handled the situation. I don’t know if you heard about it after you escaped but they were calling it a bloodbath… awfully similar to Blackwater.” His deepened frown returned, “but this time it was just Dutch.”

“And Arthur,” John added, though it sounded almost like a question.

“Hmm.” Charles’ face screwed up slightly, “I don’t know. To be honest, Arthur made it sound like he got out of there pretty fast.”

John let the thought sink in, surprised when Charles broke the silence once more.

“We’re supposed to be avoiding trouble, not causing more. What was Dutch thinking? Why didn’t he just get out of there as soon as he could?”

It was rare to see Charles so shaken, taken aback by the fluctuation in his voice. “Where will it end? The moving, the running?”

He still avoided looking directly at John, making him think he wasn’t asking him as much as just voicing his concern. John could tell it upset him. Charles had only been running with the gang for half a year or so, clearly unimpressed by the recent direction the gang had taken with their poor choices.

John swallowed, wanting to reassure Charles but finding it hard to come up with anything to say. John was probably the worst of the lot of them to consult in, having no kind words to offer about Dutch.

Charles gave a heavy sigh, “I’m sorry, brother. You’ve got enough on your mind, I’m sure.”

“Charles.”

“Hmm?”

John slowed his horse until he came to a steady halt. Charles didn’t notice immediately, turning his head back toward John when he didn’t answer right away. He stopped his own horse, a look of interest dawning his face.

“What is it, John?”

Pressing his lips together nervously, John thought carefully about what he would say next.

“Back in Valentine, when Cornwall showed up… I was by some of his men. They threw me into an alley beside the saloon Dutch and Arthur were held up at.”

Attentively, Charles listened to what John was saying, waiting for him to continue. John drew a shaky breath.

“I could hear them talking from where I was tied up and… I thought Dutch was going to cut me loose, I thought-” he broke off the sentence as his throat tightened.

“What you went through,” Charles started, his voice softer than a moment earlier. “I couldn’t even imagine. It was horrible what those men did to you. But to feel abandoned by your family… John, I am so sorry.”

John shook his head, blinking away the tears that had started to form in his eyes.

“One of the reasons I joined this gang was because of the loyalty shared amongst its members,” Charles continued. “Dutch always said that no one gets left behind, and Arthur managed to get you out of there-”

“What Arthur did isn’t what I’m worried about. It’s Dutch, Charles. I fear if Arthur wasn’t there, Dutch would have left me behind.”

The words hung in the air, suddenly making John so aware of how bold they were now that they were spoken out loud. He studied Charles, scared that he may react as Arthur did when he mentioned the same concern over Dutch.

He hadn’t meant to admit his feelings about Dutch so openly to Charles, knowing the man respected him as much as most of their peers did. John had been reserved about Dutch all of his life but had become so overwhelmed with what happened in the past couple months that his actions had become brash.

Charles gave a slow nod, “I understand your concern.”

John exhaled in relief, not realizing the breath he held in anticipation, “you do?”

“Dutch didn’t speak about what really happened at Blackwater, and now he avoids talking about what he did in Valentine. It has me questioning his methods. Arthur seems a little shaken, and now you, too? I can’t ignore something like that.”

John felt a sudden buzz from his words, almost not trusting his ears to believe what he was hearing be true. “What do you think will happen next?”

Charles let out a deep sigh through his nose.

“I trust Dutch.”

John’s eyes dropped. He knew he did, yet the statement still dealt a hard blow.

“But I trust you, too. And Arthur.”

His eyes flickered back up to Charles, widened in surprise.

“For all I know, Dutch may not have had another choice. In Valentine and in Blackwater. But I think I’ll be keeping a closer eye on things. And if you notice anything, tell me. I will be speaking with Arthur, too.”

He straightened Taima back on the road, signaling that the conversation was over for now. “Come on, we should get going.”

With that, Charles urged his horse to continue moving forward. John followed, suddenly feeling a lot lighter than a moment before. To know that Charles had the slightest shred of doubt about Dutch made John want to cry from relief.

The thought that Dutch’s risky actions finally had repercussions, even if they were minuscule, gave John the tiniest flicker of hope that ignited inside his chest. The feeling was a foreign one that John hadn’t been acquainted with in a long time. His mind was racing at the possibilities of what it could mean, that maybe there was change on the horizon.

With all that in mind, he couldn’t help but feel a little scared, too. After the years of abuse he’d received from Dutch and losing the only people who could do anything about it, John truly believed he could do nothing but accept it. But now, now he didn’t feel as alone as he did before.

Pushing down his thoughts, he tried not to get ahead of himself. He didn’t want to get his hopes up over the matter, so, for now, he focused his mind on his and Charles’ surroundings.

The low sunlight dappled John’s skin through the sparse branches above them as they made their way through another cluster of trees. The forests they found themselves in now weren’t as dense as where Albert’s cabin lay tucked away and had a different look to them.

The air was hotter, with a humidity that made John’s shirt cling to his back as they rode to their new camp. The path in front of them turned to a dusty red and seemed to reflect in the sky above them. Or perhaps it was the evening casting the earth in its warm glow. Either way, John felt like he was somewhere far from where they once were.

He thought that they must be getting close now, seeing a white wooden sign pop up ahead of them. He glanced over it as they passed by, the paint chipped from being weather worn.

WELCOME TO THE STATE OF LEMOYNE

“You guys fled to a completely different state?” John turned to ask Charles.

“Yeah, better safe than sorry. We’re near the water up this way, it’s a good spot.” Charles nodded in the direction of where their new camp was pitched, steering his horse on a small pathway that led into another heavily wooded grove. John would’ve completely overlooked it otherwise, but once they continued deeper into the shade of the overhanging branches, the path widened into a clearing just before the shore of an endless lake.

"Clemans Point," Charles stated to John at their arrival.

He could make out the familiar bustle of people strung about. Their tents and wagons were more spaciously placed than at Horseshoe Overlook, with more room for the horses, too. A thick, old looking tree was planted right in the middle, providing a promising shelter from the hot weather they would be experiencing here.

John followed Charles to a nearby hitching post, sliding off to secure Old Boy to it. He’d only just managed a tight enough knot when someone came charging toward him.

“John? John! Oh, thank God!”

Abigail threw her arms around John, making him stumble back a step before catching his balance.

She was off of him just as fast, holding him at an arm’s length, “you’re alive!”

John nodded, “so are you.”

Abigail made a noise that sounded like a mix between a laugh and a stifled cry, her eyes glistening as she smiled widely at him.

“How’s Jack?”

“He’s good, he’ll be even better now that you’re back. Come, are you hungry? There’s still some stew for you.”

She took his arm, leading him through their new camp. John looked around, his brow furrowing slightly.

“Is Arthur-”

“He’s out with Dutch and Hosea,” she interrupted him before he could finish, giving him a knowing look. “I’ll tell you more once we get you some food.”

His shoulders fell, giving in as she pulled him along. On one hand, he was glad Dutch wasn’t around to watch him like a hawk, but on the other, he was a little disappointed that Arthur wasn’t around for his return. Things would likely go back to how they were before. As if the moment shared between him and Arthur at Albert’s cabin never happened and would never be spoken about again.

The simple task of getting a hot bowl of stew from the cooking pot to his tent proved harder than he thought it would. As Abigail brought him over, he wouldn’t stop getting interrupted by the other gang members.

Some of the girls called out to say how happy they were to see him again, followed by Reverend Swanson, who stumbled by to say the same. He then began quoting a verse from the bible that John was sure he wasn’t reciting right. Only to become distracted by something else and finally leave John alone. Then there was Sadie, who practically jumped him, wearing a smile he wasn’t too used to seeing from her.

“John! You’re back, we missed you!”

She didn’t hug him like how some of the others had, which he was a little relieved of since he wasn’t used to the sudden amount of affection. Instead, she gave him a pat on the shoulder.

“I have to say, I’m glad to be back.”

She looked different from the last time he’d seen her, wearing a bright mustard yellow blouse and dark brown pants with a worn looking gun belt loosely buckled at her hips.

“You look good, Sadie.”

Her expression was a little skeptical at first, not knowing the sincerity behind John’s compliment. When he gave her a little reassuring nod, her smile reappeared.

“Thanks! Arthur and I went shopping and I thought I’d get myself a pair of pants, since most of the men around here don’t do a very good job of wearin’ them.”

He gave a laugh, “you’re right about that.”

He barely had time to say goodbye to her before Abigail whisked him away again. Javier tried to call out to John, but she wasn’t having any of it.

“You two can bond once he’s had something to eat! For now, you shut up and play your damn music!”

The last thing John saw before being shoved into his tent was a distraught looking Javier clenching onto his guitar.

The world muffled around him once he was inside the familiar canvas walls. He didn’t think he would miss it, yet looking around to find his few belongings struck a little homesickness within him.

The few books he owned were stacked neatly on top of his clothing chest, no doubt by Abigail. Some other odds and ends of his belongings lay organized on his side table.

“Thanks,” John breathed out to Abigail once he sat down on his bed with his bowl.

She sat in the chair across from him, “eat.”

He did so, scarfing down Pearson’s stew faster than he ever had before. It almost tasted good from how hungry he was.

All the while, Abigail watched him, even once he’d finished and set his bowl aside.

“So,” he broke the silence. “How have things been?”

“Tense,” Abigail pressed her lips together, eye contact not breaking his. “People weren’t too happy to be moving again so soon. Especially under the circumstance of doing so.”

“I see,” John fidgeted with his fingers.

Abigail gave an amused huff, smiling at the corners of her mouth as she dropped her gaze.

“Arthur’s fine.”

“I wasn’t-”

“It’s okay, I know you’re wondering about him. I’m just teasing you by avoiding it,” her eyes were back on his, holding a mischievous glint within them. The amusement faded slightly, “he told me about what happened with you. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I am, only because of Arthur.”

She nodded, suddenly so serious, “thank God. I was scared when he showed up alone, not knowing what could possibly have happened to you.”

“I’m okay now,” he tried to reassure her.

“I know,” she let out a breath. “Waiting around was the worst part. I’m just so glad you’re back now.”

“Did Arthur say anything else?”

Abigail shook her head, “no, he mostly just checked in with me and the boy, made sure we were doing alright. He talked a little with Dutch, the two weren’t seemin’ too friendly toward one another when we first settled here.”

John tried to imagine how that must have looked, finding it hard to do so. Even though he knew Charles wasn’t lying to him about the fact that Arthur was clearly affected by what happened in Valentine, it was still hard to believe Arthur and Dutch butting heads over it.

A sudden thought occurred to John, confusion knitting his brows together. “If they don’t seem to be getting along too well, how come he’s out with Dutch and Hosea? What’re they doing?”

Abigail rolled her eyes, “they’ve gone fishing.”

His frown only deepened, wondering what the hell Arthur was doing by going out fishing with Dutch. A little offended at the notion, he tried not to let it show as he urged Abigail to continue, “they did?”

“I know, I know,” she raised her hands like even she didn’t get why they thought now was the right time for it. “The thing is, I think it was an olive branch from Dutch. This isn’t just any member of the gang, it’s Arthur we’re talking about. I don’t think Dutch wants to lose the trust Arthur has for him.”

John let the thought sink in. That sounded like something Dutch would do, and it angered him.

For a moment, he thought about telling Abigail about Valentine, and how Dutch didn’t hesitate to leave him behind. But he bit his tongue, the last thing he wanted was her going after Dutch with the full intention of ripping him apart.

“Hey,” Abigail tried to regain his attention, her expression displaying a worry as if she could read his thoughts. “Arthur’s smart, if he’s worried about how Dutch is handling things he’ll speak up. Hosea’s no fool either, he’s been keeping Dutch in check for years.”

John nodded, but it felt hollow. He knew Abigail was trying her best to reassure him, but he couldn’t stop from thinking about how deep it ran. If Dutch convinces Arthur to look past this… he wouldn’t know what to think.

He stared out of the sliver of the tent’s entrance, completely lost to the present. Not knowing what he expected to see outside, as if he might catch a glimpse of Arthur. Like the man would appear out of thin air just from being talked about.

“I know you care about him.”

John’s head snapped back to Abigail, “what’re you talking about?”

She gave a soft smile, “Arthur.”

He blinked, sputtering over his words in an attempt to respond, “well, I mean yeah, I-we’ve known each other a long time-I just mean I trust him as a fellow member of the gang-”

“I’m no fool, John, I see the way you look at him.”

Panic consumed John completely. He stared at Abigail wide eyed and short of breath, his thoughts running a mile a minute. John had never said the fact out loud, even repressing ever really fully comprehending it internally. It came as such a shock for Abigail to say it, seizing him because of how deep he had buried that part of himself.

He quickly tried to disprove her statement, but all that came out was an incoherent noise, suddenly not knowing how to string a sentence together. He felt heat rise to his cheeks, not even able to look at Abigail directly anymore.

“See, you’re getting all flustered just talking about him!” She held up a hand to hide her laughter.

“No, I’m not!” John yelled at her, jolting upright.

She stood too, shock taking over her features which immediately morphed into concern, “hey, it’s okay!”

“Did you tell anyone?!” John blurted out, still consumed by his fright.

“No, no of course not!” Abigail hesitantly reached a hand out to put on John’s arm. He let her, both of them lowering down in their seats again, then retracted her hand.

“You can’t say anything, please, Abigail, you can’t.”

“I won’t, John. Hey,” she moved so John was forced to look at her, “I would never do that to you.”

He nodded, swallowing dryly, “okay.”

When he thought his heart rate had returned to normal, another thought struck him. “But I don’t understand, didn’t you think that…we?” he pointed between the two of them.

“Loved each other?” She gave a little huff, “I hate to say it but you didn’t exactly sweep me off my feet, John Marston.”

He just stared at her, completely dumbfounded.

“Buuut I do think that deep down you care about me as much as I care about you. Sure, at one point I might’ve hoped for more, but I don’t feel that way anymore as much as you don’t.”

She moved forward to carefully put a hand on his arm again, this time her grip firm. “All I want is for you to provide for Jack and I. I’m not asking for us to be this perfect family, just to be there for us.”

“I, yeah but-are you okay with that? Me being with…” he couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence out loud.

“I want you to be happy, John.” There was a short pause before she continued, “you know there’s nothing wrong with you because of that, right?”

For however gentle her words were, he almost fell completely apart from them. His face contorted from an overwhelming sense of emotion that rendered him unable to respond.

Abigail was sitting before him, fully aware of who John was, and completely accepting of it. He didn’t think anyone could ever understand, yet somehow she did.

Before he knew what he was doing, he pulled her into a tight hug. He clung onto her, almost as surprised as she was by the gesture. It wasn’t like him to do something like this, but he felt there was no other way he could have expressed his gratitude towards her.

She pulled back from their embrace, but still held onto his arms, “I have to say. You and Arthur, it’s actually kinda sweet.”

Her voice was soft when she said it, making John want to die from embarrassment.

“Jesus Christ, woman-”

The opening to the tent abruptly whipped aside, interrupting them and drawing their attention. At the entrance stood Arthur, wearing an easy smile that immediately fell when his eyes landed on John and Abigail holding each other.

John quickly dropped his arms, “Arthur-”

“Sorry, I, uh, didn’t mean to interrupt, I’ll leave you two to it.”

“Actually,” Abigail shot up from where she was sitting. “I was just leaving.”

She gave John a brief look as she moved to exit the tent, “if you’ll excuse me.” She slipped past Arthur, leaving him to awkwardly stay behind.

Silence followed when neither of them said anything, only to be broken by Arthur when it had become painfully obvious.

“Well, I just heard you’d come back and wanted to check that you’re alright, which you seem to be so I’ll just be going then.” He was gone before he’d even finished what he was saying, the tent flap falling into place after his rushed escape.

John let out a heavy sigh, letting his head fall into his hands. He cursed himself for being such a damn mess, knowing that that could have gone way better.

#morston #arthur morgan/john marston #arthur morgan x john marston #rdr2 fanfic #morston fanfic #Arthur/John #jarthur

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devinisagirlsname · 4 years

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OCtober Day 1

Prompt: Sunrise

I’m posting this today without any proper editing or beta reading or anything. This month is going to be an exercise in me writing every day and posting so I get over the idea of people possibly seeing my work. Please, if you do read this, keep that in mind.

Also, these will all just be snippets from the larger story. If anyone is actually curious enough, feel free to ask me any questions about whatever.

On her first morning in Farland, Aisling discovered that her brand new home faced East. A burning slice of the new day broke past beautiful but functionally useless curtains to wake her. Aisling groaned and attempted to turn away from such an early morning, but that only served to alert Blue, who had been sleeping heavily at her feet. The monstrous white hound stood, stretched, and trampled his master's knee on his way to ask for breakfast.

"Blue!" She shouted, sitting bolt-upright to stop her familiar from moving from her bruised knee to more delicate lungs. Blue gave a single bark, jumped off the bed, and happily thundered to the kitchen to await breakfast. The bedroom settled back into quiet dawn, but sleep was successfully driven away.

Aisling kicked and stretched her toes to find her slippers before she pulled herself from bed. Though piled with rugs, the floor of the cabin held the night's chill as if the foundation sat on ice. Aisling hesitated in grabbing her housecoat- a thin red thing that clashed horribly with her copper hair, but it was a gift from Mother Kathleen during her first winter festival in the capital. For the warm and dry of Alterhart, the robe served Aisling well. Now, it was clearly not up for the blustery winds of the coast.

Still loath to admit she was awake so early, she topped the housecoat with one of the many extra blankets from her bed, and patted out to the kitchen. Small creaks in the wooden floor reminded her that she was no longer in the dormitory she'd grown up in, no longer surrounded by other girls with the same goals, same gifts.

Blue sat by the front door and threw his head back to look at her as she left the bedroom. It caused him to give a floppy upside-down smile before he righted himself and scratched the door with a sturdy 'thunk!'. Clearly, a stronger force than breakfast was calling to him.

"I guess we'll need to add a flap to the back door for you," Aisling mused, adding the chore to her growing list. Her hand reached for a light switch, hitting empty wall, and she was reminded of the fact that the previous owner used lay lines for all the electricity. This was the home of a Mother, after all. The most gifted magic users, sent to help communities as hands of the Grande Matriarchs.

Talented. Gifted. Magical.

Blue barked.

"Right, sorry sir," Aisling unlocked the heavy door and a gust of wind assisted her in opening it. Blue ran out immediately, jumping the stairs of the deck and bolting after something small that shook the bushes nearby. Aisling tucked her hands under her arms and shivered, but she couldn’t help but be awed at the sight that greeted her.

The cabin's location had been troublesome to reach the night before, while she was weary from travel and stressed from meeting the local leaders. A winding path with uneven, ancient wooden steps to lead you up the mountainside made her trip and stumble. Thick pine meant it was easy to get lost if you stepped off the dirt trail, and even with a guide it took nearly half an hour to drag herself to her new home.

She hadn't taken time to look back at the town once she finally made it to the front door.

The deck had box seats to a perfect view of sunrise in Farland. The yard had been planted to have shorter shrubs line the front gate, nothing that would grow so out of control as to cover the sight of the town square. The sun painted the white stone of the fountain orange, reflecting off the ever-flowing water like crystal. The sparkling effect spread all the way behind the storefronts and homes of the main town to the docks. Aisling could see a couple of small fishing boats coming back in, a few more anchored still on the horizon.

"Quite a sight, isn't it?"

Aisling threw herself back so fast she nearly cracked her skull on the doorframe. Her hands were up- still wrapped in her blanket shawl- prepared to fight before she recognized the sweet voice.

Sunflower was sat on the half-log bench, politely trying to hide her laugh. Her braids were tied back at the nape of her neck, hanging over her shoulder in a much more casual style than Aisling had seen the night before. She stood and Aisling saw she wasn't even in her Sister robes now, but in street attire of trousers and blouse, something that Aisling remembered being disciplined for back at in the dorms. A Sister was always meant to wear the uniform of her station, especially when meeting with a Mother.

"Mother Bernadette and I would meet for breakfast," Sunflower explained. A mournful look passed her dark eyes before she chased it off with a smile. "Since it's your first day, I was hoping you might keep tradition with me. Mrs. Romae will treat you to fresh coffee and bacon if you help her open the shop."

Aisling's stomach gave a whine before she could properly answer. She felt her ears redden and could no longer meet Sunflower's kind and open face.

"I'll need to dress," she finally mumbled. "I have to unpack my robes and-?"

A hand was on her shoulder, but Aisling didn't feel like she was being trapped. Instead she finally met Sunflower's eyes.

"Sunflower Addams," the sister started, her voice taking on a gravely edge and she wrinkled her face as she spoke. "This is breakfast, not a sermon! If I have to put on all those layers and chains each time I go to buy butter I am never leaving this house again!"

Sunflower un-scrunched her face and chuckled, apparently pleased by her own impression of the late Mother Bernadette.

"I used to take it all very seriously, you know," she explained. "It's what the capital tells us, that our gifts are great blessings and that we should hold up the honor of the Grande Matriarchs." She gave a heavy sigh and Aisling felt at that moment like Sunflower was truly trying to reach her for…something. "Farland isn't Alterhart. Yesterday you met everyone has Mother Harkin, I think today it would be best for you to introduce Aisling."

Blue chose that moment to come bounding back, dragging a branch the length of his body in victory up the steps. He sat at Aisling's feet and dropped it, giving the two women and tail wag and floppy smile. Aisling felt her shoulders relax, a stress she hadn't noticed suddenly leaving. She smiled.

"Then let me grab my boots and trousers. Maybe in town I can get a proper coat; Farland truly isn't Alterhart."

#my work #my writing #OC-tober #I hope this properly posts with the read more #I wrote this in three hours after I remembered I was supposed to start today #words are words I guess

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thesafepackers · 4 years

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ikesenhell · 5 years

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The Burden

Elysium, Part Four. You can find all other IkeSen/IkeVamp works of mine in my Masterlist. NOTES: Nothing particular. LETS GET THIS BREAD -spikes my laptop and then apologizes profusely to it-

---

The Chairman detained them for most of the next day. Mercifully, between the three of them, they juggled new plans and training details and drafts for checkpoints along the main highways. Evening came, and they at last were free.

“I'm going out,” Napoleon announced, throwing on his sword belt and caplet. “Anything before I go?”

Jean frowned and lifted himself from one of the beds. “Then I will go with you.”

“That isn't necessary.”

“If you're walking into the woods after that bandit alone, then I should think you need another sword arm. Just in case.”

Napoleon accepted the offer with a smile and a pat on his friend's shoulder. Isaac just grumbled about having blueprints to draft and things to read, and together, the two men left the safety of the inn and headed about town.

Information was never hard to come by if you knew where to look. If there was anything Napoleon had learned in his time ruling Elysium, it was that two things always held true: One, people were more willing to talk if you gave them something first. Two, children always knew more than they let on. It was the second one he planned to lean on. They ambled through the red cobblestone streets, side by side, wandering down the winding roads, and—ah! A small group of children milled around an ancient well.

“Me first, Jer! Me first!”

“You still haven't said sorry after pushing me last week! I'm not giving you any!”

“That's not fair--!”

The center of the commotion—“Jer”, a lanky boy of maybe eight, split from the group and sprinted, a paper bag clutched to his chest and a stream of children capering after. Napoleon couldn’t help but laugh. They scampered around benches and in huge circles up and down the street.

And then Jer collided with a little girl half his size, both of them crashing to the cobblestones.

“Ah!” Napoleon ran to them. Jer looked fine, but the smaller child? Poor thing. Her eyes welled with tears, hands smushed against her mouth. Her scraped knee oozed fresh blood. He lifted her to her feet, and she wobbled uncertainly, but stood nonetheless.

“Look at you,” he soothed, patting her head. “You’re a tough girl! No crying, yeah? It’s just a scrape. Does anything else hurt?”

Jer clambered over, the paper bag still clutched to his chest. “Mila, I’m so sorry, please don’t tell Mom--”

“Hey now.” Napoleon set his jaw and tried not to laugh. “She’s the injured party here. Ask her if she’s okay first before you start begging for her silence.”

The little girl smushed her fists against her eyes, but nodded. “I’m f-f-fine.”

“Brave girl.” He patted her shoulder and watched her little frown transform to a shy smile. “That’s the way. What are you chasing him for, anyway? And--” He glanced up, almost wheezing with laughter as he realized the other kids had dispersed. Jean looked just as confused as he. “Your friends don’t stick around, do they?”

The boy shook his head sheepishly. “We’re not really friends with them. I, um… I got a present is all.”

Mila wasn’t so reserved. She stamped a foot and shouted, “He got candy!”

Candy? Napoleon shot Jean a glance. Candy was expensive, and neither of these children seemed particularly well off from the look of their clothing. “Is that so?”

“I--” Jer flushed. “Yeah. Look.”

The paper bag was crumpled and worse for wear, but its contents were unmistakable. The sweet scent of honey and sugar wafted from inside. What a rare treat! Napoleon considered them, wondering where someone might get a collection of delicacies like that. “Who gave you these?”

Jer squared his jaw. “I bought them.”

“Lying is a sin, young man,” Jean reproached softly.

It was difficult to tell if the child was more uneasy about sinning, or simply Jean’s insertion into the conversation. Either way, he folded easily. “I--they were a gift.”

“From who?” Napoleon prodded. “I’m not going to get you in trouble. We’re just looking for a friend.”

Mila scuffed her feet on the cobblestone. “A nice man with curly hair.”

“Yeah,” Jer added, uncertain, “Reddish-blonde curls, most of his face was covered…”

“Oh? Which way did they go?”

The siblings pointed out a nearby gate. Beyond that, the woods were clearly visible. Jean nodded matter-of-factly, adjusting his sword belt. At last--a lead.

“Thank you,” Napoleon soothed, patting both of the children. “Get home safely, alright? And share some of that candy with your sister.”

---

Tracking the footsteps out to the forest was simple enough. After crossing the boundary of trees--that was another matter entirely. He hated to ask Jean to use the Voices, and their quarry was well versed in hiding themselves. Little details mattered; a snapped branch here, a freshly overturned rock there. As quiet as they were, they still startled a flock of sparrows in their wake.

“That’ll tip them off,” Jean murmured, hand on his sword hilt.

“I know,” Napoleon answered. “Maybe that’ll be a good thing.”

“Maybe.”

Night swiftly approached. The light between the leaves faded from gold to orange. Soon they would turn back. But then, at the last moment, Jean motioned for quiet.

“I hear a river.”

He was right. They passed the thinning line of trees into a tiny clearing, the glowing twilight sky overhead glittering on the clear, wide water. Maybe another day he would consider this a wonderful resting place. For now, he had two concerns:

One. There was a small stack of discarded clothing on the bank.

Two. There was someone on the shore with a crossbow loaded and pointed directly at him.

“Ah!” Napoleon tried--and failed--not to laugh. “So you’re a woman!”

August (it had to be August, there was no one else he’d met recently with that same piercing stare and firebrand hair) cocked a severe brow at him. They’d clearly gotten dressed in a hurry. Their pants were wrinkled, shirt sticking wetly to their chest, water still rolling down their cheeks. Without all the armor, their curves were obvious.

“I’m not a woman,” they snapped back. “Put the sword away, General d’Arc.”

Jean kept the blade raised, but didn't move. “Lower the crossbow first.”

Napoleon pressed forward. “So you’re not a woman? You’re a man?”

“I--” August’s brows knit in confusion. “Is that really pertinent when I have a bolt pointed at your chest?”

“I have to know how to address you when you kill me.”

They rolled their eyes so far back that he wondered if it would stick. “Sword down, d’Arc. The crossbow goes nowhere first. It’s two on one.”

For only another moment, Jean hesitated. Finally, he sheathed his sword and tossed it to the soft earth. “You’ve shown yourself honorable before. I suppose I’ll trust you not to shoot.”

“I appreciate that. And you, Sir Bonaparte?”

Napoleon was already unbuckling his sword belt, but he laughed anyway. “I don’t recall introducing myself to you with my last name.”

“Find me someone else with the name ‘Napoleon’, and I will retract the association. I’m no fool. The moment you provided me your name, I knew who exactly it was I was dealing with.”

The second weapon fell to the ground. At last, August lowered the weapon--but kept it firmly in hand. They had fine features. Long lashes, severe brows, a full mouth set in a line. And the way they spoke; this was no peasant. They were educated. Napoleon appraised their foot stance and burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” August scowled.

“I now understand why I didn't recognize your swordsmanship,” he gasped. “You fight like a woman.”

Three eyes blinked at him. Napoleon pointed. “She--he--they’re trained in women’s fencing. Look at the feet.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Jean answered reproachfully. “I’m not familiar with that.”

August shuffled their feet. It was too late. Napoleon howled with laughter again. “You took a noblewoman’s sport, added a saber, put all your weight into it--”

“Don’t mock me,” they snapped, ears flaming.

“I’m not! It was brilliant! No wonder I couldn’t identify what you were doing--”

Up came the crossbow. Napoleon did his best to compose himself. When the laughter stopped, it finally went down once more.

“If you’re done laughing,” August snapped, “Would you mind telling me why you interrupted my bath?”

Down to business. Napoleon folded his hands behind his back. “Simply put, we believe we’ve walked into a trap with Penrith.”

A snort. “No shit.”

Jean narrowed his eyes. “So you knew.”

August merely motioned for them to continue. Napoleon followed up. “If you know who we are, then you know we come from Elysium. We were asked to come here and assist with a bandit problem. Obviously, you found us first--and you hardly match the description offered us.”

“I imagine not.” The bandit finally set down the crossbow, scooping up the pile of clothes from the riverbank. “If you two wouldn’t mind turning around?”

Jean swiveled on his heel instantly. Napoleon followed suit, speaking into the tree line. “They also seem to have some kind of knowledge about our party that we didn't want getting out. Otherwise, our stay in the city has been very tame, but given the discrepancies, we wanted to speak to you.”

A rustle of fabric. “What makes you think I’m that much more believable?”

“You were looking for something.” Napoleon paused. “That, and you showed kindness. It doesn’t fit the profile of banditry.”

“Mmm. You can turn.”

Gone were all the curves. August smoothed out their shirt, chest flat underneath, tugging on layers of leather armor and buckling them expertly, wet hair still clinging to their forehead. “Given the history between our two countries, I’d think you’d be reluctant to trust anyone.”

A half-decade of bloody war hung unspoken. Penrith always claimed that the aggression on Elysium’s borders was only perpetuated by their former Chairman. They’d repeated as much over and over again. But words--oh, words and peace treaties didn't bring back the dead, nor did it absolve Napoleon of his responsibility to Them. He always had to be cautious.

“True.” Napoleon agreed.

“So I presume whatever I say will be taken with a grain of salt?”

“That would be the case. Unless you can prove it, sir--mada--”

“Sir works.” August yanked on a pair of gloves and flung the crossbow easily over their broad shoulder, finally coming closer. The smell of fresh lavender soap and clear river water hovered around them. “I won’t give you words, then. I’ll give you proof. How does that sound?”

“I’ll accept that.”

“Perfect.” They lifted their proud chin, working a scarf over their face until only their eyes remained uncovered. “Go to the central plaza fountain tomorrow at dusk. You’ll find a priest with a coin. He’ll show you.”

“And what if I’m walking into an ambush?”

August simply shrugged. “Then kill them. I doubt you’ll be going alone. I have nothing to gain from seeing either of you come to harm. Tomorrow, dusk, central plaza fountain. That is the terms to truth. I can’t risk letting on what I know without some buy-in faith.”

Then that was that. Napoleon nodded, reaching for his sword belt. August nodded firmly back, rounded on their heel, and stalked toward the tree line. Jean merely stood for one moment--then lunged forward. “Wait.”

They stopped in their tracks, eyes wide. “Yes?”

“I--” Jean stood wordless for what felt like eternity. “Thank you. Your kindness in untying me was unnecessary--”

“--No, no, that’s--don’t thank me for that.” Did they sound flustered? “It was nothing. You were--it seemed you were panicking. It was simple enough to do.”

A beat. Jean stuck out his hand. August stared, then, slowly, took his, clasping tight.

“God be with you,” Jean murmured.

And those bright eyes crinkled, like a thousand colors bursting in the height of summer and blooming all at once. “I hope you realize that I don’t know the appropriate response for that. But thank you. And with you as well.”

Finally, they released each other. Jean charged back, head high, Napoleon following him back into the underbrush. Overhead, the sunlight faded and the stars emerged, a thick blanket of night sounds swallowing them whole. Bit by bit, they picked their way back through the woods and out onto the road.

Napoleon finally allowed a chuckle. “They’ve got expressive eyes, don’t they?”

Jean blinked like a man emerging from a dream. “What?”

“Expressive eyes. August. When you shook hands.”

His friend and second in command released a tiny strangled noise before managing a feeble, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Lying is a sin, Jean.”

The poor man looked so stricken in the moonlight that Napoleon doubled over in his tracks, laughing until his throat scratched. Jean did his best--but after only a few moments, he cracked a faint smile, smoothing his uniform with nervous hands. “Forgive me, I--I didn't think when I said that--”

“No, no. You’re forgiven, friend.”

They made it back to town before the gates closed. Napoleon cast a glance into the central plaza as they headed back to the inn, the red brick fountain bubbling with life, and wondered what they would find there tomorrow.

#Ikevamp #Ikevamp Jeanne #Ikevamp Jean #Ikevamp Napoleon #Elysium #ikevamp medieval fantasy au #The Burden #my writing #nb MC #August #nonbinary mc

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