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#cause the adventures so far kind of tore it to shreds
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Villain: Laormoch, Archfey of the Wild Unknown
Embodying the primal awe and terror of those places beyond the edge of the map, this ancient spirit of the land exists to test and torment those who stray too far from the safety of the familiar.
Though the old stories call him the" thane of the faroff" or an "invisible giant as big as the sky", it is hard to put Laormoch's physicality and the fear it evokes into words: How do you describe being lorded over by ancient trees, or the scornful glare of unfamiliar stars? His shape is only ever suggested by how it bends the natural world, but he is always distant, though always so immense that it feels like he may reach out and crush the viewer.
Adventure Hooks
The party stumble into a village to find its inhabitants struggling to recover after a disastrous hunt. Some wretched beast tore through some weeks ago and was only dispatched with great effort. It was a cause for celebration, at least until the thing was seen stalking in the woods, reading for another attack. To prevent it from assailing their walls and destroying their homes the village's best hunter leads the village's strongest on a sortie, downing the beast only after injuring many and losing a few. This has happened three times so far and the village's defenders are wearing thin. Perhaps the party could lend their aid once the beast is spotted again, and perhaps spend the intervening time trying to find its obviously supernatural origins.
Almost inconsolable, a great lord calls for the party's aid in rescuing his son and heir, who he claims was stolen by the sky itself: snatched out of his tower window by a great hand and carried off into the clouds. The servants and courtiers are skeptical, everyone knows the lord was so protective of his son he barely let the boy leave his rooms, let alone the castle, and it's likely the lad finally managed some means of escape. While they're considering exactly how to search for the lad the party will be approached by the Lord's bastard daughter, she was denied her inheritance by her father's traditionalism, and sees the opportunity to have herself recognized if the true born heir is never found. She'll ask that even if the party does find her younger brother, they either help him escape or leave him where he is, as it would be better for the both of him if he doesn't return to the castle.
Backstory:
Seeking to prove herself against a boastful rival, a hunter ventured far from her village into the deep wilderness, where she found and slew an elk of ethereal beauty, eating its flesh to sustain herself and taking its antlers as her trophy. Though she returned in glory, the beast had been marked by the Thane of the Faroff, who has raised its butchered body as a reverent and gifted it bloodthirsting branches to replace what was taken. The revenant won't stop until it's killed the hunter and torn her body to shreds, which will likely be sometime after she's gotten a good portion of the other villagers killed because she's too good at hunting and too stuborn to die without a fight. The revenant has more than one trick though, the branches animating its body bear seedpods which it scatters as it dies or gores others to death. These seeds eventually grow into twigblights, which are slowly massing in the forest waiting to overwhelm the village's defenders and open the gate for the revenant's final rampage.
Wishing more than anything to get away from the suffocating confines of his home, the young heir has found himself on the wrong end of a fairy bargin. Whisked off by Laormoch to his castle beyond the horizon, the boy has been forced to serve as the archfey's cupbearer as repayment for his captor's "kindness". The party will need to dig deep into the local folklore to figure out how and why the sky might snatch up a forlorn youth, potentially missing him entirely until they run into him while visiting the feywild for a completely different adventure.
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mc-illustrations · 3 years
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New outfit in celebration of reaching LV5 
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strawwritesfic · 3 years
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Loki Laufeyson x Female!Midgardian!Reader: A Bird in the Hand
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Summary: …is surely not worth its asking price.
Rating/Warnings/Tags: All (some foul language; not Thor Ragnarok compliant)
Fic Trade Prompt: “Please, I don’t want to lose you, too.” 
A Bird in the Hand
Once upon a time in a realm known as Midgard, there lived a girl. This girl, of course, was you, and you lived as many young women at the time did during that Age of Miracles. None of these miracles ever happened to you. There were no fish oil transformations on your horizon, nor were there any divine calls to adventure. Just like all New Yorkers, you grew use to your daily commute being interrupted by superheroes, to calling insurance companies to argue over their decision to not pay for alien invasion damage to your apartment, and even to carrying an umbrella around with you even on the driest of days in case certain Asgardians decided to visit. Life went on. You had stopped looking for a real miracle years ago.
As well you should have, because there was nothing miraculous about your wedding day. Outside, a seemingly endless mass of dark gray clouds let loose bucket after bucket of rain. Thunder rolled across the sky; lightning flashed–and that, really, was all you could see through the window you had stationed yourself in front of to sulk. If you hadn’t known any better, you’d have blamed the city’s resident thunder god for the disastrous timing of this storm front. As it was, all you could blame was your string of bad luck.
Speaking of bad luck, the door to your parlor snapped open and in stepped the dripping figure of your best friend. Aliyah paused only long enough to adjust her sodden pink hijab before plopping soggily onto an overstuffed loveseat.
“Well, the gazebo is flooded,” she announced, “the food is soaked through, and the caterer won’t bring more to replace it. Your flower arrangements are in pieces, and the band already ran off. I don’t think there’s anything left of your wedding ceremony.”
You did not bother to leave the window, though you did turn just far enough to throw her a sour look. “Do you have any good news to impart?” you asked.
Aliyah grinned. “Your maid of honor hasn’t walked out yet. At least there will be one person here to witness this fiasco.”
“Gonna need a groom for anything to be witnessed.”
Most close friends would offer sympathy when their friend’s fiancé of a year and a half decided to just not show up for the actual wedding. Most acquaintances would feel bad enough when the carefully planned event got rained out. Not your Aliyah. She simply let out a sharp breath and leaned her head back against the couch cushion.
“Can’t say I didn’t warn you,” she said.
You glared at her, which of course she didn’t see, having shut her eyes to listen to the water tumble from the roof to the street outside.
“Thank you. So much,” you said.
“What?” she asked, forcing her eyes open again. “I told you Jared wasn’t good enough for you. Besides, you should keep all the gifts even if he doesn’t stop by. I saw, like, nine blenders in that pile. You’re better off this way, if you ask me.”
“You’re just saying that because you want a free blender,” you said.
“I wouldn’t say no. But, really, you should count your lucky stars. Free stuff and free of your jackass boyfriend. What better start to a weekend?”
“I’d rather be married to my jackass boyfriend.”
Aliyah’s disdain for Jared was nothing new or surprising. He’d fallen from grace in her eyes when he’d got jealous over your fondness for an injured pigeon you’d rescued only a few months after you started dating Jared. Even releasing the bird hadn’t entirely put an end to his complaints about how you spent your free time. On the other hand, you knew one thing that neither Aliyah nor Jared did: Jared’s jealousy wasn’t entirely misplaced.
But that was years ago. This was now. And that bird had always been bad news.
“Are you going to cry about it?” Aliyah asked, peering over at your perch by the parlor’s bay window. “Because, if not, I’d hate to have dragged Habib all the way to America for nothing.”
At the mention of her long-distance boyfriend, you motioned for Aliyah to go on. You preferred to do your moping alone, and Aliyah knew it. She stood and crossed the room to give you a quick hug before she left without another word. Probably you did owe your maid of honor at a least a blender for all the trouble she’d been through on your behalf.
Sighing, you lifted one hand, dug your fingers into your hair, and tore out what was holding it in its elaborate design. Who cared what you looked like now? Even if stupid Jared had shown up, the storm would have ruined your appearance before you made it down the aisle. Now Aliyah had free rein to spend the rest of her afternoon cuddling with Habib, and you had no one else to bother looking pretty for.
Outside your empty room, you could hear the indistinct muttering of your remaining guests. Family, mostly, who had already given up trying to convince you to let them in. What the rest of them were waiting for before they left, you couldn’t guess. Perhaps for you to come out and make an official announcement: The wedding has been called off. Party’s over. You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here. And thanks for all the blenders.
The shame of your situation suddenly threatened to crash down upon you. It would have, if you had remained sitting where you were. Instead, you got up, white dress rustling as you stalked across the room. A quiet shriek of rage was stifled only by your gloved hand pressed to your colored lips. Of all the pathetic, idiotic, insane things you had done in your life! Now you didn’t even have the courage to face your friends and family with the truth.
“Tap. Tap. Tap.”
Hail began to hit the glass behind you, soft and hesitant. Since you had no plans to leave the building any time soon, you ignored this weather development.
Jared hadn’t even called to say he’d changed his mind. You should have known when he hadn’t come home after his stag party the night before. He was probably laughing it up over your stupidity with some blonde bikini babe by the beach that you were supposed to go to for your honeymoon. The thought caused you to kick out angrily at the coffee table, and you heard a quiet rip issue from your skirt in response when it caught on a corner.
You swore.
”Tap. Tap. Tap.”
Now that you thought about it, the sound wasn’t regular enough to be hail. It wasn’t very hesitant anymore either. Still, you ignored the noise as you yanked off your veil, your gloves, and your garter. You were mentally preparing to rip them all to shreds with your fingernails when you heard it again:
“Tap. Tap. Tap.”
That time you did not suppress your shriek. As it faded into the overstuffed furniture surrounding you, you marched over to the window and shoved it open. The wind whistled through the empty space, sending anything in the room not tied down into the air and splattering your face with water. If ever there was a time to reasonably expect an Asgardian thunder god to step inside, it was then. No one was there, though, save for a single bedraggled pigeon.
“Oh, hello,” you said when it hopped onto the sill, and automatically you held out your cupped hands toward it.
The poor thing shivered once, then stepped onto your warm palms. Only when it looked up into your face did you see that it had bright green, very un-pigeon-ish eyes.
Before you could stuff the bird back outside, it lifted itself into the air to half-flutter, half-fly over to the loveseat Aliyah had been sitting on. A flash of light that had nothing to do with the lightning outside filled the room. When you had blinked and cleared your vision enough that you could see again, the pigeon was gone, and in its place reclined a tall, dark-haired, beautiful man, dressed to the nines in Asgardian fashion.
“Hello, darling,” said Loki Laufeyson. “Don’t you look ravishing?”
You were too shocked to contradict him. No mention of your torn dress, mussed hair, or smeared makeup escaped your lips. Instead, you said the only thing you could in that sort of situation: “What are you doing here?”
“Why, I’m here to offer you my congratulations, of course,” he answered, examining one perfectly manicured nail. “Or should it be my condolences?”
“Really?” Your tone dripped with enough sarcasm that it could be heard over the protesting window as you forced it shut. “You disappear for two years, never write, never visit, and then you just happen to pop by to celebrate my wedding to another man?”
“What kind of secret lover would I be if I did not?”
“We are not secret lovers.”
“Well, no, we haven’t been for quite some time. I see no reason why that should stop us from picking up right where we left off, however.”
“We were never secret lovers.”
“Really?” he said, mocking the tone of your earlier question. “That’s not what it seemed like to me. Of course, I had the brain of a pigeon most of the time, but at night when your beau had to work and leave you so very alone–”
“You can’t just show up out of the blue and expect me to want you again,” you interrupted. “And on my wedding day to boot.”
To his credit, Loki looked genuinely confused by your behavior–like he’d expected you to jump straight into his arms, marriage or no. Obviously, they did things differently in Asgard. You were not Asgardian.
“Fine,” he said. “If that’s the way you want it. I was only trying to thank you for helping me, you know.”
“All I did was take in a pigeon that got injured when Thor threw a bunch of peanuts at a flock. It didn’t really deserve that sort of thanking.”
“Ah, but you enjoyed it anyway.” That wasn’t the point. He knew it wasn’t the point just as well as you did, because once he made it, he got fluidly up to his feet to and walked over to stand in front of you. “If you are that disinclined to see me, I suppose I had better get going. If you ever grow tired of being lonely again–oh, that’s right. You don’t know how to contact me.”
You opened your mouth to remind Loki that you didn’t want to contact him, but then something about Loki’s words rang strange.
“Alone?” you echoed.
“Yes, alone. Or do you expect your Prince Charming to come riding up on a horse of white any second now? Better late than never?”
Without thinking, without warning, you slapped him straight across the face.
“Ow!” he snapped, pressing one of his hands to the mark on his face. “What was that for?”
“What did you do?” You lifted your hand for another blow. “What did you do to Jared?”
“Me? Do something to Jared? What should I have to do with that ponderous ass?”
“Did you kill him, Loki?” you asked, voice quavering. Loki could do it. Easily. He was a god, and Jared just…well, just a ponderous ass.
Loki let out a single bark of laughter. “Oh, please. I just got out of Asgardian prison. As if I’d risk going back over the murder of a petty moral such as he.”
That brought you up short. Frowning, you deigned to look at him again. “Prison?”
“Yes, prison. Did you think my absence was due to taking a pleasure cruise?”
“I thought you’d escaped prison when I found you the first time.”
“But you sent me back to Asgard when I started causing trouble,“ he reminded you. "Odin does not forget his son’s crimes easily, nor is he inclined to forgive them. Luckily my brother is far easier to manipulate.”
He had not, you noticed, made any real move to leave. Loki still stood in front of you, looking down as the pink handprint faded from his cheek.
“So…you didn’t kill my fiancé?” you asked uncertainly.
He shook his head. “If he isn’t here, it is because he is a dunce, not because I tricked him in any way.”
“Oh.” All the problems of your appearance seemed at once apparent and embarrassing. To think that this man would see you in such a state, and only because he’d wanted to see you after his release from jail. “Why did you really come, then? Since you knew he wasn’t here. To gloat?”
“The thought did occur to me,” Loki confessed. “I am not often in the position of being the more desirable choice. But,” here his voice turned oddly sincere, “I actually came to ask you to come with me.”
Your mouth fell open. Some of Loki’s usual acerbic amusement returned as he watched you flounder; you could see the faint outlines of his familiar smirk at the corners of his mouth. Finally, you managed a short, “go with you where?”
He shrugged, and started to twist the curtain in between his long, pale fingers. “I don’t know, really.”
“You want me to go somewhere with you without anywhere in mind?”
“I thought we’d figure it out as we went along,” he said. “Travel the galaxies. I cannot return to Asgard and Midgard, of course, is out of the question so long as I do not rule it.”
“You want me to follow you into outerspace?”
Only his silence could tip you off that Loki was actually nervous. He clearly had no idea how you would respond to his suggestion–which was by falling into a nearby chair to gape at him.
“You want me to leave my family?” you asked.
“They live far away and hardly talk to you.”
“And my job?”
“That you’ve never liked. We’re both aware.”
“And my best friend?”
“She spends most of her time visiting mosques in India with her boyfriend,” Loki said with a dismissive flick of his hand. “Besides, there’s no rule to say we can’t come back to visit her every so often. I have no objection. She seems a sensible enough woman.”
“And you want me to leave them all,” you went on as though you couldn’t hear him, “for you, a man I haven’t seen in years because he was in prison.”
Once more, Loki said nothing. His green eyes peered into yours with unreadable depths, just as they had the unfortunate day you had returned home after to work to find your injured pigeon friend gone and a strange man eating all of the meat out of your fridge in its place. You could remember, too, the feel of that man’s skin against yours, the heat of his lips on your neck, the sound of his low voice in your ear–and Jared complaining, always complaining, about how much time you spent with that damn bird.
You buried your face in your hands. “I can’t do it, Loki. I can’t.”
You waited to hear him leave again, to hear the glass move and the rush of the storm and the flutter of wings. None came. All that did was one soft word:
“Please.”
“Huh?”
When you looked up, Loki was right above you. His hands gripped the chair arms at your sides with enough force to make them whiter than ever–but his eyes were not on yours anymore.
“Please,” he said, “I don’t want to lose you, too.”
Another move without thinking or warning: You gently touched his other cheek.
Loki’s eyes closed for a half second before he moved one hand to hold your wrist there. “I have already lost my father, my mother, my home. My own brother has thrust me unceremoniously from both realms I sought to rule. And then to hear that I would lose you, too, to an oaf like that Jared.”
No one could say that Loki losing all of this wasn’t entirely his fault. He had decided to lead an alien invasion into Earth, to try murdering several members of his mentioned family, and to seduce young Earth women under the guise of hurt animals. But part of Loki’s charm was that he never failed to make one doubt that he could be better, maybe, if you only let him try.
“I’m sorry,” you said sincerely. A sincere apology didn’t mean your mind was changed, however, and this, also, Loki knew.
“Do you want me to beg?” he asked. “I am no longer a stranger to begging.”
With that, Loki slid to the wooden floor before you. Stranger or no, it was positive it wasn’t a position he relished being in, what with how stiff his hands were around yours when he made to hold them. He swallowed, took a deep breath, and began:
“I know I am asking a lot. But I, too, have lost a family, a job, and my closest friends. I would not ask you to come with me if I did not intend on paying you pack ten times in kind. If you will allow me to take you with me, I know I can make you happier than you would be here. Together we will find some place to call our own, and you shall be my queen. So please,” he said, “please let me keep one last thing that I love. Don’t make me leave you behind, too.”
It wasn’t the prettiest speech you had ever heard come out of his mouth, but it was probably the most honest. You gave him a tiny smile as you squeezed his hands in return. “A queen, huh?”
Loki smirked. “Or a comfortable, quiet living, depending on what we find, and how thorough Thor is in seeking me out. At least we could be comfortable and quiet for a little while.”
“Can’t imagine that’s going to last long with you around.”
“With you around to look after me, though…”
That got you to laugh. “Oh, yes, I’m sure I’d do a wonderful job making sure you didn’t get into any trouble. I did such a good job before.”
Some of the color returned to Loki’s features. He was starting to hope. Against your better judgement, so were you. A couple of things, however, remained to bother you:
“What if you came here and Jared and I were married?” you asked.
“Then I would have had to resort to kidnapping.”
“And how did you even know I was getting married today to begin with?”
He smiled his Cheshire smile, and that was when you knew you were truly lost. “You really ought to stop talking to the birds on your fire escape. You never know which one would be willing to pass information off in exchange for a couple of peanuts.”
“Oh, and you stalk me. What part of this deal doesn’t sound good?”
“None of it, I should hope.” Standing, Loki kept one hand firmly around one of yours. “We should go, you realize. Unless you want to say your goodbyes?”
You thought of your parents blustering about how you dared to invite both of them to your wedding. You thought of the forlorn apartment you shared with a man that had never really loved you for you. You thought of Aliyah and her instance that Jared would never be good enough for you. You thought of the awkward explanation that would be expected as soon you set foot outside that door–and you grinned.
“Not a chance.”
“Then I believe,” he said, and abruptly pulled you into his arms in an obvious parody of carrying a bride before pushing the window open with his boot, “we have a few errands to go on before we get on our way.”
“Like what?”
“Unless you plan to live the rest of our lives with nothing but multiple blenders,” he began, but was not able to finish over your sudden laughter and the return of the torrent outside.
You latched your hands behind his neck as he dove back into the rain. There were stars somewhere above those clouds, and you would be visiting them soon enough–them and endless other realms. Maybe eloping with a man that could turn into a pigeon wasn’t the best miracle there ever was on Midgard, but it pulled off the most important trick of them all: Against all odds, you lived happily ever after.
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Love is…
Staunch
~~~~~~~
    Things were quiet tonight, and while the witcher would've usually appreciated it, the deathly silence now suffocated him.
           The katydids and crickets no longer filled the night with their chirps. There was no wind rustling the green leaves in the ceiling of trees above them. The sounds of small animals scurrying around the forest were gone, as were the birds in the trees. The last embers of the fire had gone out long ago, leaving the pit silent and only slightly filling the air with smoke.
         The witcher had an inkling something may be wrong outside his tent, but he ignored it as he was exhausted and didn’t want to wake his friend, who for the first time in a while, was having a full night’s sleep.
    The young bard’s slow heartbeat and shallow breaths were lulling the witcher to sleep, and as the older man closed his eyes, his nose was filled with the sweet scent of cedar wood and raspberries.
          That’s when he heard it.
    Just outside, barely audible, was another’s breath. These were different from the bards; they were sharp, they were ragged, and they smelled foul. Smelled like rot and excrement. Like blood and bile.
Then an ear-splitting screech filled the air and a pair of razor-sharp claws tore through the thin fabric of their lodgings. The experienced witcher shot up out of his bedroll while the young man next to him got tangled in his while trying to rise. As the witcher drew his sword, the bard had finally managed to stand up, but tripped over his sheets when stepping out of them. While on the ground, the bard took his misfortune  as an opportunity to slide his shoes onto his feet, and the witcher hoisted him up by his arm while the claws ripped through the tent again.
    With his silver, the witcher slashed at the claws as they tore again through the canvas. Another blood-curdling screech pierced through the air, and beside him, the bard covered his bleeding ears.
The witcher stepped through the tears in the cloth to be greeted with another scream, this time from far above him. Geralt was certain of it now as he noticed muddy feathers gliding down from above -- the beast he was to fight was a nasty one. One he alone had had many run-ins with before. One the bard had never faced.
    “What in the flaming hell is that thing?” Jaskier called out to him from still inside the tent. The witcher looked back to the bard to see him still covering his ears, with blood seeping through the cracks in his hands. Humans weren’t made to handle the earth shattering screams of she-devils, and Geralt worried the damage may already be done.
    “Harpy,” the witcher called back. Confusion crossed over the bard’s face, but was soon replaced by pure excitement.
    Before the younger man could make another remark, the creature screamed again, this time diving down to attack the witcher, who swung at the beast.
          A kind of dance began, where the creature would attack and the witcher would defend, but he could never hit the beast. And once he finally did, he almost wished he didn’t.
As Geralt caught the beast’s side, it flew back and crashed into the tent, tearing the canvas to shreds. And from inside, the witcher could hear another scream. One that was human. One that belonged to a humble bard with no way of defending himself.
    In an instant, the harpy tore back through the canvas with bloodlust in her eyes, and the witcher, calm and collected, stood his ground as the beast dove towards him. Stood his ground until she reached him and he swung. The body of the beast fell to the ground, and its head rolled towards the witcher's feet.
    Behind him, the witcher could hear another fast beating heart, rugged breaths, and smell not the stench of harpy, but of human blood. The witcher turned to see his lodgings torn to shreds and a bard clutching his side, gasping at the pain the monster brought upon his skin. Quickly, the witcher made his way over to his friend, whose pained expression caused the witcher to regret letting his guard down.
    With gentle hands, or as gentle as he could be, the witcher slowly removed the bard’s hand from his side and looked to the younger man.
    The bard gave a weak laugh to the witcher with a hint of tears in his eyes. “Oh look, now I’ll have a scar to go with the songs, hmm? I’m on my way to becoming a real adventurer, don’t you think?” He asked, talking through the pain. 
“You know, Geralt, this will make great inspiration for my next ballad. Or should it be a reel? I was thinking maybe something upbeat, what do you think? Now that I think about it, a ballad wouldn’t really fit, now would it?  It’s no matter, and you can wipe that serious expression off your face. I’m sure I’ll be fine. How bad is it anyway?” The bard asked, trying to look at the wound, flinching in pain as he did so.
    “Relax,” said the witcher, the words more to himself than to the bard.
Saying the wound was bad would be an understatement. The jagged edges of the bard’s flesh were stained as red as fresh raspberries, blood was heavily pouring out of the laceration, and the witcher had to put the bard’s hand back onto the wound to slow down the bleeding.
    The bard’s naturally bright eyes had gone dim. His hands trembled. And his breath shook. And his jaw clenched. And his lips quivered. And he was in pain.
    The fragrance of the bard’s blood now flooded the witcher’s nostrils: a sickly sweet metallic scent that made the witcher’s blood boil knowing it belonged to the innocent songbird. The bard’s face, usually filled with life and color, was now whiter than fresh snow, and his hands were redder than the petals of a rose or the wings of a cardinal.
    “Hold here, tightly,” Geralt said to the wounded man, pressing his hands firmly against the liaison. The bard did as he was told while the witcher tore a long piece of canvas from the shredded tent. With it, he wrapped the bard’s wound, knowing he would soon need to find a permanent solution, for he knew a human with a wound as bad as Jaskier’s could not last long without proper medicines.
    After a sharp whistle, Roach made her way over to the pair, where the witcher lifted the younger man onto the horse. Geralt then pulled himself up behind the bard and grabbed onto his mare’s reigns, encaging the hurt man in his steel arms.
    Quickly but carefully, the witcher made his way back to a small town they had passed on their way to Novigrad, hoping they might have some kind of doctor, healer, or herbalist. When the men arrived in the town, Jaskier had already passed out from pain and blood loss, and there was no medic anywhere near the village. Luckily for the bard, there was a witch not far to the south, and while the witcher would rather not get tangled up with yet another mage, he knew he had no choice if he were to save his friend’s life.
    As the witcher made his way to the witch’s hut, he found he could barely focus on the path ahead of him. Where he was usually extremely aware of everything he passed by, Geralt now could only focus on the pained breathing of his unconscious bard. The witcher couldn’t tell if was his own self or the bard trembling, and tried to keep the smell of the Jaskier’s blood and fear from engulfing his senses.
    Upon reaching the witch’s cottage, Geralt didn’t bother tying up Roach. Instead, he hastily grabbed the bard, who was still asleep, and banged on the witch’s door with his foot. A small, dark woman opened it cautiously, but once she saw the wolf pendant on the witcher’s chest, the witch slammed it shut.
    “I’ve hurt nobody, Witcher,” she called, tears welling in her throat. “Please leave me!”
    Geralt sighed, saying, “I’m not here for your head, Witch.”
    Fear swept through her words, “Then why? You hunt monsters, and most humans call me one. Well let me tell you witcher, I’ve done nothing but help the people of this town!”
    “Nobody sent me to kill you,” said the witcher. “I’m here of my own accord.”
    Confusion in her voice could be heard when she asked, “Why?”
    “I need your help.”
    The witch cracked the door open, and this time her amber eyes made their way to the bard in the witcher’s arms. “Desperately, it seems,” she said in a soft voice, opening the door fully and gesturing the witcher inside.
    As he entered the house, the witch shut the door behind him. “Here,” said the woman, gesturing towards a small bed in the entrance room. The witcher layed the young man on the cot while the witch grabbed diverse herbs and cloths from scattered cabinets and drawers. She pushed the witcher out of the way, who in turn grabbed her petite hand and glared into her dark irises.
    “If you want me to help him,” she said, “then you must give me my space. Please wait outside.”
    She met golden eyes, which were shooting daggers into her own and continued, “I can’t concentrate with you in here, Witcher. Leave me.”
    With a final glance at his friend, the witcher turned from the young witch and left, slowly, as to make sure the wench wasn’t going to harm her charge.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    After a short while, the woman joined him outside. The witcher looked to her, which prompted her to speak.
    “I don’t work for free, Witcher. I need a favor.”
    “What is it?” the witcher asked, knowing he didn’t have a choice. Sure, he could threaten her, but she could just as easily undo her spells of healing on the bard.
    “I’m having a problem with a monster near one of my gardens. A cockatrice actually. If you can, I need you to kill it and bring it back to me with as little damage to it as necessary.”
    The witcher squinted his eyes at the witch, “A cockatrice? Those are-”
    “Incredibly rare?” The witch squealed, jumping up, causing her long dark curls to bounce. “I know! That’s why I need it back. I would like to study it and use it for potions and such.”
    The witcher closed his eyes, thinking. He breathed out and opened his eyes to meet hers.
“...Fine. Where is it?”
    She pointed to a direction east of her home, saying, “Just a mile east. It’s a fairly large garden, hard to miss, full of hawthorne and verbena. If you do this for me Witcher, I’ll not only make sure your friend heals up nicely. But I’ll be in your debt.”
    The witcher grunted, whistled for his mare, and rode off towards the beast.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    Upon his return, laughter and relaxed conversation could be heard from inside the house, which no longer smelled of blood, but now of mistletoe and orchids. The witcher heaved the cockatrice off of his mare and onto his shoulder, and made his way inside the witch’s cottage.
    When opening the door, the witcher was greeted with a familiar smell of cedarwood and raspberries, along with the smile of his now healed friend.
    Periwinkle eyes met his golden ones, and Jaskier flashed his alabaster teeth in the witcher’s direction, causing the witch to follow his gaze.
    “Geralt!” exclaimed the bard, “I assume you’ve met Lyria as she is the beautiful woman that saved my dearly lustrous life.”
    The bard looked back to the pretty witch and greeted her with an affable smile, and in return she granted him an alluring one.
    The witcher could see it now. The way she placed her hand on top of his. The way she slightly pushed her chest up on her arms as she leaned against the table. The way her heart beat sped up slightly everytime the bard smiled at her. The way her cheeks flushed when he had spoken well of her. She fancied the bard.
    She took his kindness and compliments the way anybody would, not knowing that, while he was flirting, he had no real intention of seeing this woman ever again.
    She gazed at him with her chocolate gold eyes and batted her lashes slowly. Softly, she traced the back of his hand while he spoke and leaned in closer to him. But the bard didn’t notice. Instead he rambled to her. About his travels. About his music. About Geralt.
    And the witch listened intently while she searched his eyes and smiled at his laugh. The witcher rolled his eyes to himself and wondered just how humans could have so much raw desire, not only for sex, but for love and companionship.
    The witcher placed the cockatrice on the table between the pair and looked to the bard. “Stay if you’d like, but the sun is setting, and I have a job elsewhere.”
    The bard stood from his seat, jumped almost, and turned towards the witch. “Lyria,” he said, taking her hand in his, “it was wonderful to meet you, and I hope we once again cross paths, as I believe our destinies were meant to intertwine. Thank you for everything you’ve done, I will forever be in your debt.”
    The witch blushed and said her farewells, then saw the men to the door. Once outside and out of earshot of the witch, Jaskier spoke.
    “Nice trick that, but you can’t get rid of me that easily.”
    The witcher glanced at him, lifting an eyebrow, and made his way to his mare.
    Jaskier continued, “Oh don’t play coy. You were trying to leave me with the witch so I couldn’t come to Novigrad with you. And, while I will say it was clever, even a beautiful maiden couldn’t keep me away from my true passion.”
    “Which is?” He asked, climbing on to his horse.
    “Writing songs about great adventures and even greater heroes, of course!”
    The witcher held a hand out to the bard, “I’m no hero, Jaskier.”
    Jaskier smirked, taking it and climbing behind him, “Maybe not, but you are an adventure, and wherever your blade swings I will trudge.”
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whereisthefood123 · 6 years
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Posibilidad ch2
Paring: Gajevy
Summary: AU in which Gajeel is part of Ft since kid and part of Team Shadow Gear. Setting at Phantom Lord arc
ffnet
Ch.1 - Ch2
A/N: Thank you so much for all your reviews, they truly encouraged me to finish this chapter sooner. Here's the second chapter of Posibilidad. Enjoy! As always, a huge shout out to @ranunculusfox for being an amazing beta!
"We should have a name!"
"For what?"
"For our team! Duh!" Jet jumped down from the old oak to land almost perfectly next to Levy who was leaning on the bark of the tree reading one of her favorite books.
Droy followed suit, but the 12-year-old boy tripped over a branch and fell face first on the freshly-cut grass of Magnolia's park. Gajeel who was the last one to jump snickered at the clumsiness of his friend.
"Just think about it," Jet kept going, "we could be the coolest team in Fairy Tail! We need a badass name, don't we?"
"Ya don't even know what badass is!" Gajeel snorted which earned him a glare from the redhead boy. Droy just laughed at them.
"Shut up iron breath."
"Make me, speedy."
Jet lunged at Gajeel and both boys tumbled to the ground with Gajeel easily securing Jet in a headlock, much to the other mage annoyance. Droy stood by the sideline, jabbing an insult or two towards both kids.
"That would be nice!" All boys stopped what they were doing and looked back at Levy who had closed her book and was now paying attention to them.
"Huh?"
"A team's name." She tapped her chin with her finger and looked up to the tree's canopy. "It'll make things easier to go on a job. And I'm pretty sure it'll help us build a cool reputation." Her eyes shone with excitement as she looked back at them. She stood up and clapped her hands happily. "We're already a great team! It's about time we have a great name as well!"
Her cheerfulness was so contagious that Gajeel dropped his grip on Jet and the three boys nodded in agreement. "Hell yeah!"
"But what should it be?" Droy asked everyone as Levy closed the distance towards her friends.
"It should be something cool!"
"And fearsome!"
"And cool!"
"I already said that, Droy!"
"How about," Levy paused, making sure her friends were paying attention, "Team Shadow Gear."
"Yeah!" Droy said excitedly.
"I like it." Jet nodded.
"Team Shadow Gear. Sounds badass enough." Gajeel's smirk broaden after tasting the name on his lips.
"Then, it's decided!" Levy chirped happily. "From now on, we're Team Shadow Gear!"
"YEAH!" The four kids bumped their fists together and with the big oak as their witness, their new adventures as Team Shadow Gear began.
Gajeel ran like he had never run in his life. He had left Cana behind at some point but he couldn't care about it any less. His heartbeat was pounding in his ears, his blood freezing with dread.
Please, let them be fine. Tell me it's not them!
He pleaded to Mavis, to Metalicana, to anyone that could hear his prayers. Because he hadn't waited for the man to finish explaining. The sorrow in his eyes told him by far how much Gajeel needed to be in the park in that second.
Levy. Jet. Droy.
They should be fine. They were probably fine! Even if Phantom Lord had attacked them, they were strong, and together they were stronger! They would have kicked those Phantom Lord's asses in no time.
Then, why was he able to smell their blood from three blocks away from the park?
Let them be fine. Please!
As he neared the park he noticed the multitude gathered around the big oak in the middle of the park. He faltered for a second, hearing murmurs and whispers with the crowd around; all eyes were glued to the tree. His mind tried to catch up to what was happening and to what his senses were telling him.
The smell of his teammates' blood was stronger in the middle of the crowd. By the old tree.
He wasted no more time. He pushed through the mass of people, barely noticing by the corner of his eye that Salamander's team had arrived almost at the same time as him. When he cleared the crowd, he felt how his heart seized its rapid beating in his chest.
High on the bark, hung the limp, bloodied and bruised bodies of his teammates.
On the same tree that Jet, Droy and Gajeel used to climb up to the top branches when kids, on the same tree where Levy had taught him how to read and write in Fiorian, on the same tree where they had chosen Shadow Gear as their team's name. On that same tree, shackled by wood as if the tree had grown around their forearms, and with a Phantom Lord guild mark painted over their heads, Jet, Droy and Levy had been crucified by Phantom Lord as a sick display for all Magnolia to see.
Gajeel felt like getting sick. The contents of his stomach threatened to go up his throat. He gulped hard, his eyes going wide with the scene before him and his breathing laboring with each second.
No… No!
Gajeel couldn't hear anything. His senses zeroed in on his friends trying to pick up any sign that they were alive.
Please. Please!
And he heard it. Their heartbeats. Their breathing. It was weak and shallow, but it was there, and that was all that Gajeel needed to keep going.
With a strong leap, he jumped to the tree and dug his claws into the bark just next to Jet. He didn't notice when he had covered himself in his iron scales but he didn't care, he would use them to tear down the wood cuffs that kept his teammates in place. Assessing Jet's condition, he noticed the unnatural twist of his arm, leaving no doubt that it was broken. Gajeel placed himself in front of Jet, before tearing down the first shackle. Carefully, he maneuvered Jet to hold him against his body before tearing apart the other restraint. He then leaped down from the tree, softening the fall as much as he could to not worsen Jet's arm.
As he placed Jet on the ground, Mira knelt in front of him. "I got him." Her blue eyes burned with unshed angry tears. He could only nod in response.
Gajeel leaped up again into the tree to get Droy down the same way he did for Jet. When he landed back to the ground, it was Cana that took Droy from him so he could get Levy down.
He didn't waste another second. As he was poised to tear down the first cuff that kept Levy in place, he noticed how bruised and broken she was. The bastards had tortured her more than they did to Jet and Droy. Something boiled inside Gajeel at the thought. A rage he had never felt in his life threatened to take away his sanity. He breathed heavily, trying hard to focus on the present and not on what he would do to those who had hurt the most important person in his life. First, he needed to get Levy to safety.
He tore the first restraint and she hissed in pain. Her limp body fell forward as Gajeel caged her against the bark with his own body to not hurt her other arm.
"I'm sorry," he whispered to her, not knowing if she could hear him.
He tore apart the second cuff and she whimpered against his chest. Gajeel cradled her with as much care and softness as he could before he jumped down from the tree. He didn't release his hold on her when they were on the ground, opting instead to kneel down and gather her in his arms. He just needed to feel her heartbeat beneath her skin, to remind himself that she was alive.
His eyes roamed over her body. They had hurt her in so many ways. She was kindness and light and they had smeared her in blood and dirt. He felt the magic rippling under his skin. He wanted to destroy everything that had anything to do with Phantom Lord. He wouldn't forgive anyone that had done this to the woman he loved. He would rip them all to shreds and have them all begging for nonexistent mercy.
Something dark crept inside Gajeel's heart then, and he felt the raging beast looking for release. They would pay. He would make them pay!
Gajeel raised his raging eyes to see Makarov standing in front of him. Master's order from the previous day still rang in his ears but he couldn't care less at this moment. He would break the laws of the Council and of Fairy Tail just to return the pain that Phantom Lord had caused to his nakama.
"Master." Gajeel growled lowly, seeing the uneasiness and sadness within Makarov's eyes as he looked at Levy's broken body. His dark eyes shadowed as he bowed his head but Gajeel felt the sparks of magic power igniting the air around them.
"Wrecking our shoddy bar I could bear with… but no parent can remain silent after seeing their children's blood." Makarov's fist tightened until his cane burst into a million of splinters. He raised his head and Gajeel froze at the rage in the other man's soul. "THIS MEANS WAR," he declared with fury lacing each word. His booming voice echoed all throughout the park and into Gajeel's soul as the old man turned to the rest of the guild members shouting orders that the dragonslayer didn't care to hear any more.
Gajeel felt his rage burning again with Master's declaration. The monster within him wanted to rip to shreds every member of Phantom Lord. And he would take his time to ensure every single member suffered as much as Shadow Gear had. He clenched his teeth in anger. He will show them what happens when they messed up with his teammates. He will show them. He will-
A trembling hand gripped the front of his shirt, instantly snapping him out of his dark thoughts. He looked at the woman in his arms and saw Levy's eyes half-lidded and glazed in pain. Gajeel's heart ached at seeing her like that, so broken, so small. He should have been there with them and not at a stupid bar over an idiotic fight. He should have fought alongside with them. The anger he felt ignited once again with a layer of self-loathing coating his soul. Phantom Lord was to blame for all of this! They-
"...rts." Her frail voice barely registered in his ears. Confused about it, Gajeel leaned down closer to her.
"H-hurts…" she whimpered before her grip on his shirt started loosening.
Gajeel then realized his iron scales were still covering his body, with his claws digging painfully into Levy's shoulder where he was holding her close to him. He hadn't noticed that his fury had him tightening his grip on Levy barely stopping before breaking skin.
As if he had been splashed with cold water, Gajeel came back to the present. All his dark thoughts dissipated with the shame that washed over him.
With a gasp, he retreated his scales and softened his hold on her, still not letting her out of his arms. "Levy, I- I'm sorry," he stammered, worrying his lip at the mere thought of causing her more pain.
But Levy didn't hear him. She had fallen unconscious again, her eyes fluttering closed and her grip loosening any strength left in her.
Gajeel felt his head spinning with his heart pounding in his ears. How had he let the beast inside him take such a hold of him to the point of hurting Levy? His breathing quickened at trying to control the whirlwind of emotions clashing within him. Pain, anger, regret, sorrow, love. All these messing around with his heart and mind as he took a deep breath and looked up to the sky trying to clear his mind from the fog of rage clouding his judgement.
Focus, damnit. Focus!
His eyes scrunched shut and his jaw tightened. The beast in his core wouldn't settle. He felt his scales wanting to resurface just to shield him from the raging turmoil in his soul. But he couldn't let them! He couldn't risk hurting Levy again! Not a chance! But the monster was slowly taking ahold of his mind with the anger chipping away any chance for Gajeel to remain in control.
Damnit!
He took another deep breath and decided then to focus on Levy. He focused on where his hand touched her skin and felt her calming warmth. He focused on the memory of her voice and on that particular tingle that would spread through his chest whenever he heard the sweetness of her tone. He focused on the image of her wrinkled nose as she was lost between a thick tome, and on her addictive scent of lavender and parchment that became his favorite fragrance. And as he focused on the brightness of her eyes and on the specks of gold that shone brighter when she smiled, Gajeel felt how the monster within him gave way to the man he was. A man that hurted, a man that was in love, and a man that aimed to be better with each breath he took.
He slowly released his breath and sensed how the rage he felt was carried away by the gentle breeze that ruffled the leaves of the old tree. With a clear mind, Gajeel returned his gaze back to the woman in his arms and to the people around him, trying his best to understand the situation with a level head.
Fairy Tail was going to war with Phantom Lord and everyone was preparing to leave as soon as they could. But what about Jet and Droy? What about Levy? They were just going to leave them at the hospital and hope for the best? What if Phantom attacked them again? They couldn't stay awake for more than a minute in their current condition. They wouldn't last a second if Phantom Lord decided to target them again. Fairy Tail still didn't know the true motives of Phantom Lord attacks. What if they had an ulterior motive? What if they were luring their main forces towards a war while they attacked those left behind? What would happen then to Levy, Jet and Droy?
He couldn't let them be in danger, abandoning them to go to war. Not a chance. He had already let his emotions get the best of him by storming out of the guild the day before.
In that single moment, Gajeel understood what Levy had done for all of them on so many occasions. Keeping a cool head even when your heart aches was something incredibly difficult to achieve. But someone had to do it. Gajeel felt it was so easy at that moment to let his rage take hold of his sanity, to unleash the beast and set all hell loose in Phantom Lord's guildhall. But he had to take the best decision, not just for him but for his team. They needed him more than his craving for revenge. He couldn't let them down. Not again.
Gajeel looked down at Levy and brushed some strands of hair behind her ear, cupping her cheek gently.
Not again.
"Master," Gajeel called with an even voice as he stood up cradling Levy in his arms. The old man turned to look at Gajeel and was surprised briefly by the cool demeanor of the young man. Gajeel looked down at Levy before meeting Makarov's gaze. His resolve strengthening his soul as words left his mouth. "Give them hell."
Makarov took notice on how the storm within Gajeel's red eyes had settled, his previous dark aura changing drastically to composed but still fiercely protective. The old man understood then what the dragonslayer's words meant.
"You're not coming." It was a statement, more than a question, but Gajeel still shook his head to get his message clear.
"I'll stay with them." He looked down at Levy for emphasis. "If Phantom comes back to pick a fight, I'll be here waiting." And boy, how he wished they would come just so he could release some pent-up rage.
Master nodded. "I'm counting on you then."
With no more left to say, Gajeel walked right after Elfman and Nab who were taking Jet and Droy to Magnolia's hospital. His teammates needed him more than they had ever needed him before. And he knew, besides the physical scars, there would be more damage to deal with once they woke up.
A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoy this chapter! There's still going to be one more chapter to wrap up this story and by the looks of it, it's going to be a long one. But that one will have to wait a bit as I need to finish first my contributions to gajevy fallfest.
Let me know your thoughts on this chapter! Did you like the little flashback on when they became Team Shadow Gear? And what about Gajeel's reaction to finding Levy, Jet and Droy? Next chapter will have another flashback to the past that I hope you will all enjoy as well and of course, more Team Shadow Gear feels and some more Gajevy~
Thank you for reading!
WTF (Where's The Food?)
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don’t take my sunshine
So, last week, @sonorofserendipity did a Big Hit on us here Adventure Zone fans.  A BIG. HIT.  And she has no fix for it and does not intend to create one.
So I did it instead.  This will not make much sense without her fics first.
(You can also read this on AO3, if you’re so inclined.)
"We can't fix this," Istus had said, eyes wide and face ashen. She repeated it again to Lup when the very angry lich had confronted her.
"You're supposed to control fate!" Lup shouted, voice cracking. "Just undo it!"
"I'm so sorry," Istus murmured, hands unnaturally still and silent in her lap.  "But destruction this complete… it can't be undone."
Lup had stormed out then, not wanting to completely lose her temper at a goddess who wasn't even at fault. Istus said there was nothing to be done. The Raven Queen agreed.
Well. They'd clearly never succeeded at doing the impossible. Lup had; this world's very survival was proof enough of that.  It took her time, though, to fill in the gaps in her knowledge, to find enough information about the Wonderland liches without asking Kravitz (as that seemed cruel).  Still, she made progress, and eventually, finally, she was ready to start working in earnest.
"I need you to make excuses for me," Lup told Barry before they headed into work one day.  "I have snooping to do."
"Sure, babe," Barry said, as unfazed as if she'd mentioned they needed to pick up milk on the way back home. (Less, really, considering his allergy.)  "Sickness or family emergency?"
"Do you think he'd buy sickness?" Lup mused, tapping a finger to her lips.  Barry shrugged.  "Nah, just tell him Taako needed me, it'll keep him from snooping on me and has the benefit of being technically true."
"Gotcha." Barry stood and kissed her cheek. "Let me know how it goes."
She gave Barry half an hour to get Kravitz out to do the day's field work, then let herself into the Eternal Stockade.  The male elf, Edward, was gone of course — and Lup was still damn proud of that.  But his sister Lydia… Lup knew exactly who she was now — Lydia was still knocking around, apparently crying over her fate and her lost brother, feeling sorry for herself.
Not sorry enough, in Lup's opinion.
"Wakey-wakey, Lyds!" Lup announced, rattling the door to Lydia's cell. It was kind of cute how Krav and the Queen were so sold on this actual prison, instead of just containing the formless souls somewhere miserable. Cute and a bit disturbing, but that was Lup's jam.
Lydia came to the bars and all but snarled at Lup when she say her. "YOU! It's your fault I'm here! Your stupid umbrella—"
"Well, first of all," Lup interrupted calmly, "It's actually your fault you're here, that's the whole point.  Secondly, I believe you're actually thinking of my twin brother Taako."  She leaned in close to the bars and smiled, baring far too many teeth.  "I'm the one who was trapped in the umbrella and tore your brother's soul to shreds for what you did."
Lydia, wisely, pulled back from the door with a gulp. "What… what do you want?"
"I want you to tell me everything about how and why you took people's soulmates from them."  Lup smiled even wider. "Leave nothing out."
~~~
Lydia was surprisingly forthcoming, especially considering what Lup did to her brother. Then again, Lup pondered, maybe it was because of what Lup had done to her brother. Liches, she'd found in the couple of decades she'd spent as a Reaper, were often far more terrified of oblivion than pain or death.
The souls hadn't been destroyed as completely as Edward had, according to Lydia, just the bond between the fragments had been destroyed, and the stolen fragment mutilated and kept to help power the machine that was Wonderland.  What had happened to them after Wonderland's destruction, however, Lydia couldn't say.
"Maybe they came here?" she suggested nervously. "I really don't know, I swear."
"Shut up," Lup snapped. "Don't cause trouble or I'll be back," she added as she stalked away. Lup was a little at a loss. She could poke through Kravitz's files, but he might not have anything, and there was no way of telling when he'd be back today.  Better to not get caught digging through her supervisor's things if she didn't have to.
So her options, if she didn't want to put this off again (and she very much did not, it had already been twenty years and that was long e-fucking-nough), were to wander around the entirety of the astral plane hoping to find something, or dig through Krav's stuff and hope they'd had an unreasonably busy day.  Neither option was very appealing.
As she mulled over her options, a soft pull tugged at something within her, and she straightened herself up, a raven feather fluttering out of her hair as she combed her fingers through it, scythe already out to answer her Queen's summons.
Yeah. That could work, too.
"Hey, Big Mama!"  Lup always reveled in the soft rustling laugh that nickname provoked from the Raven Queen, even when Kravitz wasn't there to be scandalized. ("Look, obviously you can't take this job too seriously, you have to have a little fun with golems or whatever," he'd say, "but she's a goddess!")
"You've been haranguing one of the prisoners, little spark."
Lup was torn between pride and embarrassment - of course the Raven Queen was aware she'd done that.  She'd known it was likely, and she didn't mind because frankly Lydia deserved it.  But getting called out on it was very uncomfortable.  
"It was really more mild interrogation," Lup protested.
"Did you learn what you hoped to?"
"Some of it."  Lup hesitated — even as close as she'd become to the Queen, she tried not to ask for actually substantial favors from her goddess.
"You can ask, little spark," the Raven Queen prompted, a hint of a smile in her voice.
"Right." Lup paused to draw her thoughts together.  "What happens to… broken souls, if they're not completely destroyed?"
"The soul fragments from Wonderland," the Raven Queen said, her voice rumbling ominously.  Lup was glad she'd learned when to tell if the Queen was mad at her or something else, or that would be… terrifying. "Yes, they are here. They are called to this place, as all souls are, and I keep them safe until the rest of their soul joins the sea."  She sighed deeply.  "This is not the first time someone has…. stolen this."
It was strange that Lup was so relieved to hear that. At least one day her brother would be whole again, even if it wouldn't be until he was dead.
If she failed, that is.  And she wasn't going to.
"If I promise not to hurt them, can I see them" Lup asked hopefully, pulling out all the stops on her puppy dog eyes.  "Just… see if I can learn anything from them?"  She was great at getting her way with the Raven Queen when she wanted to.  It was just usually for smaller, more ridiculous things.
"No," the Raven Queen said.  Lup deflated somewhat, shoulders slumping.
"I see."  She could still try to find them, but even Lup was loathe to go against direct instructions in a situation like this.
"I have a job for you outside your normal purview, however, that may keep you occupied."  Lup nodded, disappointed but curious.  "It has long vexed me that certain magics can damage and even destroy the soul's bond that binds two beings inexorably together, and that neither fate nor the keeper of souls could rectify such a situation."
"Mama?" Lup asked, frowning.
"You, little spark, have done many impossible things." She cocked her head, bird-like, and Lup understood in a rush of excitement and gratitude. "Perhaps if anyone can do this impossible thing, it is you."
"Just me?"  Lup all but bounced on the balls of her feet, eager to get started.
"You may seek what assistance you require."  The Queen paused, then added, "If you and your Barold could refrain from giving my head reaper too many conniptions, I'd greatly appreciate it."
Lup couldn't help but laugh.
~~~
Kravitz didn't need to know until she had a plan. Right now, she didn't have one, she just had research to do.  Which was why she (very apologetically) informed Kravitz that she was working something very confidential at the Raven Queen's request, then stole Barry while Kravitz tried to figure out if she was full of bullshit.
"We're gonna fix Taako," she told her husband as she led the way to where the Raven Queen had indicated the soul fragments were kept.  
"Tall order," Barry commented.  Lup smacked his arm lightly.  
"The Kravitz thing," she clarified.  Barry immediately shifted from teasing to intent, leaning in as they walked, his focus lasered in on her.
"Tell me."
~~~
The broken souls were both heartbreaking and terrifying.
Some were recognizable, though damaged - an iris missing petals, a sewn doll with frayed seams and missing hair.  Most were all but unidentifiable, though, faintly glowing twists of souls ripped into until they barely have enough form to stay in one piece.
"Holy shit," Barry whispered, horrified and awed.  "I knew they'd been doing this, but—"  His jaw clenched, and Lup reached out to squeeze his hand.
"You didn't do this," she murmured.  He smiled faintly at her and squeezed back.  
"Thanks."  He looked back out at the souls, drifting through the air.  "Are these all from Wonderland?"
"No," Lup said.  "Most of them are, though."
"Think you'll be able to find Taako's?"
Lup looked out at the aimlessly drifting fragments of souls.  There were so many.  So many.
(It made her want to march back to Lydia's cell and drag her here by her ear, and somehow make her feel the pain of each one of those losses.  She was the one whose relic could consume entire cities in a moment of rage.  She was no stranger to the burning in her veins that called for vengeance.
She took a deep breath, and let it pass.)
"Well," she said, rolling her shoulders, "don't know until I try!"
It took longer than she'd expected.  The souls weren't full beings, the way the souls in the sea were, but they still had… something.  Lup couldn't quite put a word to it.  Emotions, maybe.  They carried the hurt, the trauma, the loneliness that the people who'd lost them couldn't feel.  And those emotions were the only way they had to communicate, to reach out to try to find the rest of themselves, to find comfort.
Lup spent the better part of three hours gently and slowly twisting through the room, doing her best to exude safety and comfort and compassion.  She got through half, maybe.  She hadn't found Taako.  Probably.
Barry took a more scientific approach, of course.  He looked at each one individually, taking notes.  He tried to see if there was anything he knew of from over a century of study, from so so many different worlds with different magics, that could help strengthen or repair them.  He looked up from one tattered rag of a soul fragment to see Lup wobble on her feet and shook his head.
"Lup, it's time for a break," he called out.
"I haven't found him yet!" she protested, fists balled up, eyelashes clumped together from mostly-unshed tears.  Barry pushed himself to his feet and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, tugging her into an embrace.
"You can't help him if you run yourself ragged," he pointed out, tugging her to the side of the room and pushing her down to sit on the ground.  He dropped down next to her, letting her immediately lean against him, resting her head on his shoulder.
"This is pointless.  They're all miserable and broken and how the fuck are we supposed to put them back together?"  Lup took a few shaky breaths.  "What if I was wrong, Bear?  What if I can't help him?"
"You just need some space to think," Barry said, rubbing her back gently.  He started to say more, but a new soul fragment drifted in, catching his attention.  It was mostly whole, except for the fact that it had been excised from the soul it belonged to.  It was shaped like a small animal - long-bodied, with big eyes and small round ears - and it was damaged as if it had been stabbed in the stomach.  "Holy shit."
"What?" Lup looked up, following his line of sight, and gasped softly at the sight of the little creature.  "Holy shit."  She stood up quickly and reached out to cup the little shape in her hands, cradling it to her chest.  "It's a fucking mongoose."
~~~
They took the mongoose soul home in a specialized container Barry dug up from somewhere, because it was new, and it was a mongoose, and it was twenty years since the Day of Story and Song and Lup had a sinking suspicion she knew where it had come from and she didn't want to lose track of it.
"This is bad," Barry said, staring into the jar as Lup dug her stone of farspeech out, calling up one of her speed dials.  
"We don't know it's him," she said as the stone connected.  "Hey, Krav!"
"Lup?" Kravitz's voice crackled through the stone's speakerphone.  "Is everything all right?"
"Yeah," Lup answered, lying through her teeth with a pained smile so she would sound upbeat over the stone.  "I just wanted to let you know everything went fine with Taako earlier."
"Ah," Kravitz said.  There was a long pause.  Lup held her breath, praying he wouldn't ask the question she expected.  "Who's that?"
"Just a friend, don't worry about it, okay bye!"  Lup hung up and threw her stone at the sofa.  "FUCK! This is bad.  This is my fault.  I could've told him what I was doing and then maybe he wouldn't have done such a stupid—"
Barry let her pace and rant for a while; he always knew when she needed to vent or needed to be soothed, and she loved him so much for it.  She finally wound down after a few minutes and slid into the seat at the kitchen table next to him.
"What do we do?" She asked after a moment.  Barry considered it.  
"Well, we've got to find a fragment that is Kravitz as much as this," he patted the jar gently, "is Taako.  Then…"  He shrugged.  "I don't know.  But we'll come up with something.  In the meantime, you're exhausted and I can't do any more on my notes until I get some books from work, so how about I order some takeout and we'll have a night in?"
"Yeah," Lup said with a faint smile.  "Sounds good to me."
~~~
They had a few busy days after that, doing their usual gig - people had mostly stopped becoming liches and doing necromancy around the anniversary, but there were still a few dumbasses out there causing trouble.  (It was a little surreal, to Lup, to work with Kravitz and know she had part of his soul in a jar on her kitchen table.)
Then, a slow day, one that Kravitz could handle alone, and she stole Barry off to the chamber of soul fragments, jar in hand.
"What if we just… let it out and see if it likes one of the other fragments?" She suggested, staring out at the faintly glowing sea of fragments floating in the air.
"That could work," Barry said.
"You think?" she asked, actually a little surprised, because she figured it was kind of a dumb idea.  Barry chuckled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck.
"Well, uh, I don't have any better ideas, so might as well, right?"
Lup laughed and kissed his cheek before opening the jar, allowing the little soul-mongoose to drift up and out.  "Go on, little dude, go find Kravitz."
To Lup's absolute delight, it slowly started to move into the mass of fragments, not drifting aimlessly like the rest of them, but moving straight as an arrow.  A very very slow, injured-mongoose-shaped arrow.  She followed it almost all the way across the chamber, Barry trailing behind her scribbling notes as quickly as he can.  Eventually it slowed and stopped, hovering just near a fluttering, badly-damaged fragment that Lup can't quite discern the shape of.
The glow that both fragments give off brightens, just slightly, and the mongoose curls around the other shape, which starts to pull itself back together into the shape of a single feather.
"Yes!" Lup whisper-yelled, somehow feeling like being too loud would disturb them, even though the souls had thus far shown no sign of noticing any sounds they'd made.  "Bear, look!"
"I see," Barry responded in equally hushed tones as he scribbled furiously.  "This is amazing!"
"Yeah, and also we can fix Taako and Kravitz now."
"Oh."  Barry stopped taking notes long enough to look sheepish, the hushed tone falling away.  "That too, yes."
"You're such a nerd," Lup said with a fond smile.  "So that's half of the problem solved.  Or at least, half of the problem if both parties have their souls mutilated, but whatever, it's still progress."
"Re-binding them to Taako and Kravitz's souls is going to be the hard part, though," Barry pointed out.  "The Raven Queen knew Taako's fragment was here, it's just that she and Istus couldn't do anything to put it back."
Lup blinked.  "What did you say?"
"Uh…" Barry frowned down at his notes as if they held the answer.  Which, to be fair, they might.  "Re-binding them is going to be hard?"  A wide grin slowly spread across Lup's face.  Barry was almost worried - that grin usually meant trouble. "What are you thinking?"
"Who do we know, darling," she said, "who knows probably more than anyone else in creation about bonds?"
Realization dawned, and Barry found himself grinning, too.  "Let's give him a call, then."
~~~
"Well, I have no idea if it'll work," Davenport said, leaning against the railing of his ship, the Cloudblaster, after Barry and Lup finished explaining their plan.  "But sure, I'll swing by and park her… where, you think, by Magnus and Lucretia's place?"
"There's family dinner next weekend," Lup agreed, nodding.  "So Taako should be there, and I'm pretty sure we can get Kravitz there with some effort."
"Thanks, Cap," Barry added.
"Don't mention it," Davenport chuckled, and patted the ring that encircled the stern of the ship, glowing faintly.  The glow pulsed a bit as he did, a whirring hum rising almost like a purr.  "I didn't build this baby just to turn down my family when they need our help."
~~~
"We're having family dinner tomorrow and you're coming," Lup declared to Kravitz the next week.  Kravitz looked both confused and concerned by her statement.
"Uh," he said.  "Why?"
"Because we want you to," Lup responded, sitting on the edge of his desk.  "You're practically family to me'n Barry, we talk about you a lot, everyone's liked you the times you've met them."  She smiled innocently.  "Also because Big Mama says you have to."
The Raven Queen had been distressed by the revelation that Kravitz had cut apart his own soul, and when Lup had asked if she could order Kravitz to go to the family dinner and soul repair party, she'd said yes almost before Lup was done explaining.
Kravitz grimaced — though whether at the order or the nickname, Lup couldn't tell.  Probably both.  "Ah," he said.  "I see."
"You're gonna go ask her, aren't you?" Lup asked.  Kravitz raised an eyebrow.
"Obviously.  It's entirely within the realm of possibility that you'd decide to fake it just to get me to come to your social event at which I will be exceedingly out of place."
"Okay, cool, see you in a couple hours!" Lup sing-songed, hopping off his desk.  "At Magnus's house, don't be late!"
Right before she stepped through the portal to said house, she heard Kravitz sigh. She laughed brightly and closed the portal behind her.
This was going to work. She was as sure of it as she was of her love for Barry, her familiarity with Taako. Once they’d gotten Davenport on board, Lup and Barry had gone to bounce it off Lucretia, to see if she knew anything else that might affect the bond engine. She’d called in Angus and (after some dubious discussion) Lucas as well. Over the course of about three days, they went over every imaginable outcome, formulating equations and magical theory based on what they knew of souls, soulmates, and bonds. The possible results (depending on a number of factors they just didn’t have answers for) ranged from nothing happening to full success to everyone exploding.
(Explosions were unlikely and not expected, but Lucretia and Angus rightly argued that almost anything Lup or Lucas were involved in had at least a small chance of exploding, and neither of them could really disprove that, so it was in the list.)
Taako was showing off in the kitchen for some of Angus’s most recently acquired stray kids who were here despite Lup’s insistence this was a family-only affair, if only because of the potential drama.
“They don’t have anywhere else to go,” Angus said (firmly, not plaintively as he would’ve once), and that was that. It wasn’t like Lup was great at saying no to the kid even when he didn’t make a compelling argument.
Lup caught Barry’s eye from across the room, careful to try to stay out of Taako’s line of sight. Barry casually got up, his satchel in hand, and strolled over to the living room.
“You’ve got both fragments?” Lup asked, voice soft despite the cacophony in the kitchen that would certainly drown out even a loud conversation.
Barry hefted his bag. “Both in shatterproof jars. Is Kravitz coming?”
“Checking with Mama first, but she’s on our side, so he’ll be here.” Lup bounced on the balls of her feet and ran a hand through her hair, looking over at where Davenport’s new ship with its new (and purportedly improved) bond engine was parked. “This is gonna work,” she said with a confidence she didn’t feel.
“It’s gonna work,” Barry agreed, and his calm certainty was just the buoy Lup needed to keep herself from descending into anxious pessimism. She was a fuckin baller evocation wizard, but while she was more than passable at necromancy these days, Barry was the one of them that really got things like souls, death, and the like. If he was sure, that was good enough for her.
The time Lup had asked Kravitz to come was actually just after she guessed they’d be done eating, mostly because trying to deal with dragging Taako away from the kitchen was more work than even she was willing to put out.  She timed it nearly perfectly, too, with the polite knock coming while Taako was in the middle of ordering Angus’ kids around while they did the dishes. “Exactly on time,” she said with a chuckle as she opened the door.  “And with a bottle of wine.  Why am I not surprised?” “It’s… polite…” Kravitz hesitated, and looked down at the bottle in his hands.  “Is this not a thing people do anymore?” “Oh, no, you’re fine, I’m just teasing you,” Lup assured him, taking the wine and setting it on the side table near the door.  Then she grabbed Barry’s bag from where it hung on a coat hook and shouted over her shoulder.  “Babe! Ship time!” “Okay!” Barry’s voice filtered back from the dining room.  Kravitz had started to follow her a bit inside, and seemed startled when she turned him around and propelled him out the door. “Lup, what—” “We’ve got something to show you before you come in and subject yourself to the madness.” Lup said lightly as they moved towards the Cloudblaster.  “Angus has three new kids this time, and Magnus and Taako are being horrible influences, as always.” “Uh,” Kravitz responded.  “Right.” Lup parked him just next to the ring of the bond engine, which hummed softly even as it idled.  One really good thing about bond engines, Lup had discovered over the decades, was that since they literally ran on bonds, they never needed to be turned on or off.  Which meant that as soon as they got started, the engine would be ready. “Cool, just… stay here for a minute, okay?” Lup said with what she hoped was a reassuring smile.  Kravitz frowned, and she hastily added, “I promise it’s nothing bad, it just needs a little preparation.” “Okay, sure,” Kravitz agreed, reluctantly, and Lup hopped over the railing and onto the deck itself, where she and Barry had stashed everything but the souls themselves.  It wasn’t much, just a chalk circle to try to help focus their energy into the engine, and some incense because it couldn’t hurt to say a prayer before trying it.  She was up there touching up a few smudges on the circle when she heard Barry and Taako approaching. “Barry, I swear to god, if you and Lup found some fuckin goth to set me up with—” Taako was protesting, but it was clear he was curious about what was going on by how he let Barry maneuver him into place next to Kravitz. Lup put the finishing touches on the circle, then stood, reached into the bag, and pulled out two jars, glowing softly. “Hey Kravitz!” she called, and (when he looked up) none-too-gently lobbed one of the jars at his head.  “You lost this, loser!” Kravitz yelped and tried to duck, but still got grazed by the magically-reinforced jar.  “What the fuck!” he yelped.  The glow inside pulsed slightly.  Lup flashed a grin and hopped down, handing the other jar to Taako, who was looking rather bemused. “I asked myself the same thing when I saw it,” she told Kravitz.  “You’re a dumbass and you’re lucky we love you so much.” “Uh… so goth coworker?” Taako hazarded.  “Granted, where you two work, I’m not exactly surprised…” he trailed off as he opened his jar, the still-ruffled but otherwise restored feather-shaped soul fragment drifting out.  “Ooookay, definitely not what I expected to be in that jar.” “Is that a soul?” Kravitz asked, sounding horrified. “Open yours and find out, Bone Boy,” Lup said.  Barry was already out of sight, starting to power up the bond engine, which hummed behind them.  “I promise, if this works, you’re gonna thank me.” Kravitz opened his, the little mongoose floating up and out of the jar to press against his chest, its glow brightening.  Taako didn’t even seem to notice, so enraptured he was by the feather cupped in his hands.  Behind them, unheeded, the bond engine hummed, then whirred, the bright glow of it growing by the moment.  Lup focused inward, on the bonds she shared with these two dumbasses, and how strong they were, and how they were weakened with their bonds with each other broken.  Power and purpose were the two most important components of any arcane working.  Barry was, through the bond engine, providing the power.  What Lup had to do was give that power a purpose, and convince an inanimate object that ran on the very essence that holds everything together that it wanted to mend the broken souls in front of it.  
For a long, heart-stopping moment, nothing happened. Lup held her breath, eyes fixed on Taako, willing the universe to make this right.
And then, so slender and faint she almost missed it, a tendril reached out from the bond engine to wrap around Taako.  And then another, and another.  Lup finally tore her gaze away from Taako long enough to verify that Kravitz, too, was being wrapped in tendrils of light.
"Is, uh.  Is this supposed to be happening?" Kravitz asked, voice pitched high and slightly reedy, like it got when he was nervous.
"Yes!" Lup exclaimed, grin widening as the tendrils started sprouting from the boys themselves, feeding in on the souls in front of them and each other, faster and faster becoming a solid mass of white light.
"What did you do?" Taako asked, but then she couldn't look at them anymore and the sound of the engine's workings were deafening and for a moment she worried it had all gone wrong and it was going to explode after all, and then—
Then it was over.  The engine slowed and fell silent, the bright light dimmed, the bonds becoming invisible again, and when her vision cleared, Taako and Kravitz were facing each other, no sign of the souls they'd held when they began.
"Holy fuck," Taako whispered.  He tore his eyes away from Kravitz, and missed what Lup didn't - Kravitz's face crumpling in pain and disappointment.  The dumbass still thought Taako would forget him again.  "Lup, holy fuck!"
"I know, right?" Lup all but shrieked, and descended upon them to pull them both into tight hugs, her arms around their necks.  Kravitz stiffened and didn't seem to know how to handle the outpouring of affection (or anything else, for that matter), but Taako whooped and pulled her grip off her fellow reaper to swing her around happily.
"This is fucking amazing!" Taako put her back down as Barry dropped from the deck, patting poor confused Kravitz's shoulder in a comforting fashion.  "Lulu… you need to fuck off, 'cause ch'boy's got like two decades worth of makeouts to catch up on."
Lup laughed, kissed Taako's cheek, and waved Barry over as she headed for the house.  Her work here was done, finally.  
The last thing she saw, glancing over her shoulder before the Cloudblaster was blocked by the trees, was Kravitz's face lighting up in joy and understanding as Taako launched himself into his soulmate's arms.
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mimir-writes · 4 years
Text
In My Footsteps
Don’t look down, Don’t look down. Olive repeated to herself for what felt like the thousandth time that day. She clenched with bloody, chalked fingers at the wall of limestone she clung to like a bat to its mother. Olive was breathless as she reached for the climbing ax tied loosely to her belt. She gripped the handle and readied herself to make a jump to an outcropping above her. In one fluid motion, she pulled herself with the one hand on the wall and swung the ax into the soft rock high above her. Olive scrambled to bring her empty hand to a handhold but slammed onto a sharp thorn at the top and lost her grip. She hung onto the ax awkwardly which caused the hooked tool to come out of the rock ever so slightly. Olivia fell down in an instant with the ax still tied to her belt.
When Olivia got her bearing her head pulsed like a fault line and there was a dull pain in her right thigh. She but the pain off and decided to check for signs of a concussion and broken bones. There were scrapes and bruises here and there but Olivia seemed fine. She got up and took off her pack which had been thoroughly smushed against the numerous ledges that had broken Olivia’s fall. Everything was broken beyond repair and use, the sleeping bag was ripped and her granola bars had turned into cereal. The journal Olivia used to guide her journey was still intact, heavy books were most durable when properly secured. She opened the coarse pages and looked at the impeccable handwriting of her father that adorned the book from cover to cover. No matter how many times she looked at the old pencil lead it never seemed to fade, like it had been put there just moments ago. That’s her father’s handiwork, pushing so hard with the pencil that it dug into the page like it held oil beneath it. 
Olivia decided the dump the broken gear and leave it behind, it will be an easier journey and she wasn't too far from her camp, she could get to it if need be. After one step Olivia felt a sharp pain in her thigh and her hands instantly shot to it to identify the pain saw the climbing ax buried into her muscle. Looking down at the climbing implement was calming to Olivia, the shock must be wearing off. Okay, I have an ax stuck to my thigh, and I kind of need that ax right now, Olivia thought to herself standing between optimism and pessimism. This really is not the day Olivia hoped it would be. 
Olivia braced herself as she slowly pulled the instrument from her thigh and watched as the blood from the wound started running like a river. OK, this is happening now, makes sense, that’s where the blood is, She reassured herself before knowing what to do next. She picked up the shreds of her old sleeping bag and tore it into hastily made bandages to sop up the torrent of blood. 
With the bleeding taken care of, for now, Olivia looked up at the cliffside she had just fallen down and was beginning to realize how futile her situation was. I can't possibly climb with this bum leg. Thanks Dad for sending me on this journey where I will probably die, Olivia thought to herself just full of optimism. She wasn't entirely wrong in thinking that her father sent her here to die, he knew the journey was perilous and would be hard on her but not to this end. Olivia started limped towards one end of the ravine she fell into.
The fall had broken her sense of direction so where Olivia was going was anyone’s guess, certainly not hers. The high walls blocked the sun so the time of day was lost to Olivia and she neglected to check before she fell. The ravine bed was hard and rocky, the river that made it dried up decades ago and the unrelenting sun made the rock dry and it broke off easily. 
The best way isn't around or over but through! Olivia remembered the old adage her father instilled in her when she was younger. He had been an explorer his whole life and wanted to impart his sense of wonder and his world view in Olivia. He always talked about a slice of Eden he found while exploring the same mountainous range Olivia found herself trapped in now. He always went on and on about how pristine and beautiful it looked. To Olivia’s chagrin, he never went into detail about it, he kept saying that it was where Olivia would understand the world and her place in it. And now that she had come to age, he sent her here with a cryptic notebook to guide her. The gravity of it was lost on her, but she still went forward. Her father rarely lied to her.
Olivia winced at the pain in her thigh as she squeezed through a narrow passage at the end of the ravine. With a twist of her body and a bit of will power, she was able to clear the pass while keeping her makeshift bandage in place and only had a second to check before she saw the same Eden her father saw so many years ago. It was a valley lined symmetrically with trees growing fruits as blue as the ocean and yellow as the sun with a river crisscrossing the orchard. The river came to an end in a moat surrounding a massive meteorite that had to have landed there millennia ago. It was cracked into 5 pieces with vines growing between where a colony of monkeys lived. From the great distance Olivia was, she could see the colony was peaceful and the monkeys were fat and content in their home. 
Olivia pulled out the journal her father thrust into her hands the last time she had seen him. It was full of directions to guide her to this place and as she flipped to the very last page and saw a pencil drawing of the exact scene that was before Olivia. Her father had drawn the plumb fruits and the monkeys using the vines as bridges, everything that the valley had before her was on the page. At the very bottom of the page, her father had written, “And now my child if you have followed my directions to the letter this is the first time you see this page as you gaze upon the safest place on earth. It is the one place where I felt fulfilled and at peace. Look behind you and see the one who shared this journey with you and you will carry this feeling for as long as I have.” Olivia remembered all the stories her father told her of his friends and their adventures in the world and how he promised her she would be just like them. How she would follow in his footsteps and walk the same path he did.
So she finally looked all around her and saw no one but herself and the monkeys. And she didn't really feel safe or at peace, she felt alone. In fact, she always felt alone. The one-child sitting on the rug while that adult sat in their armchairs and told the same stories over and over for years. But now she was living them, but Olivia didn't know how this one ended. She looked up at the encroaching valley walls and didn't feel the same feeling of fulfillment her father and his friends described before she set out on her journey. It really felt like the walls were slowly suffocating her like she was still the child who sat complacent on the rug. Waiting for this moment, but now she felt a loss for words. Her father’s voice rang out in her head, Follow in my footsteps. Like a bell they reverberated across every fiber of her being Most of all Olivia felt scared, she didn't like how this story was ending, all of her father’s stories had a happy ending. Although she didn't know the exact ending of this one, she didn't like it. She didn't like it at all. Not one bit.
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imajojoke · 4 years
Text
•| Here’s the first chapter! The first fight is a bit of a joke, haha. The next chapter is still in the works, but it’ll definitely be better then the first chapter!
Chapter 1
That girl with pearls in her hair
“What?!” A loud voice bellowed from the shadows. The man seemed to be shrouded in mystery, as if he was intentionally trying to hide his identity. “I-I’m sorry sir, our agent couldn’t take her out! I witnessed her commit the crime first hand and. . . it was devastating! Like some kind of pressure had been quickly built up and released! He was eviscerated!”
“. . . This won’t do. I have to have That girl out of the picture. I don’t want her getting in the way of my rule.” The voice seemed dark. Evil. Menacing. This man seemed prepared to stop at nothing to have this girl murdered. But why? Why did he want this specific girl taken out?
Around a couple of miles away, was that girl. She was walking away from the crime scene, sucking on a lollipop that the man had almost caused her to drop. She seemed to look like a punk. Black leather jacket, blue jeans, and a white tank top underneath. One thing stood out. There was a strand of pearls in her hair. Not the best style to have in this downpour, but she dealt with it. She did have a hover-brella anyways. Almost everyone did.
She was walking down the street on her way to school. This was the 3rd fight this week that she had to deal with. She wasn’t sure why these government agents were specifically targeting her. Did she look like some kind of wanted criminal? Maybe. It would make sense, but she was not a true delinquent. At heart, she was a pure, almost goddess like presence. That’s why her stand manifested to represent her true, inerself.
Omega is what she had named it. It was tall, effeminate, and wore a belt with the sign of omega as the belt buckle. It was a pure white, except for streaks of gold running throughout its body. It’s eyes were a bright hue of yellow, and it wore what seemed to be pearls around its neck. She was scrolling through twitter when she was called out by a friend of hers, who was also a stand user.Maddox. Maddox Despairative. He was a short, odd one. He had recently gotten modifications to make himself look like a fox. Well kind of. He had his hair dyed orange, and a pair of new fox ears implanted and connected to his nerves. He also had a fox tail installed.
“Joanne! JoJo! Wait up!” He called after her, in his usual peppy voice. He seemed a bit more excited than usual, obviously because of the recent modifications his parents had allowed him to purchase. “Oh, hey. Sorry for not waiting up. I don’t want to be late for first period again.”
“It’s fine, really. I understand. Anyways, did you notice my new modifications?? Didya??”
“Yes. I did. You look great. I’m surprised your parents actually let you finally get them! I always thought they’d always be against modifications. I heard they’re following that lunatic religious movement against modifications.”
“Which one?”
“C.O.O.M.”
“Oh yeah, they’re way past gone in that movement. Christians Opposed to Obscene Modification is a bit of a crazy movement.”
“Yeah.” She continued to walk as silence befell the conversation, until Maddox had inevitably noticed the blood splotch on her jacket. He brought it up and she groaned. “Another agent was sent after me . . . I don’t understand why they’re going after me specifically. Do I look like a criminal?”
“Yeah, that is honestly quite strange.” He sighed and handed his bag to his stand, which looked to be some sort of robot. It wore a chestplate made of steel, covered in buttons and lights. It’s head was odd looking, and had pipes connected to it. He called it Träumst du, which is german for “Do you dream”? He calls it this because he can basically answer that question. He can invade people’s thoughts and manipulate them from the inside.
The two talked about the strange attacks that have been happening until they reached the entrance of their school, Nat K. Ottowan Highschool. The gates were open, like usual, and the two entered through the front. They went through the modern looking double doors, and walked off to their class. It was boring, as usual. Joanne knew that school was important, but she would rather be going on some kind of grand adventure to stop a tyrant then deal with Mr. Jomaroqui’s lectures about history.
Lunch came quickly today. Joanne sat at her usual spot with Maddox. She started taking her lunch bag out from her back pack. She tore the brown paper bag open, revealing a can of Pepsi, a homemade bagel sandwich, each side being toasted. There was melted provolone, two thick sheets of raw, norweigan salmon, seasoned with fresh dill and topped with fried capers. Her favorite. She had based it off of a sandwich recipe she had learned from a cooking show quite a while back, when she was around a freshman at this school.
The lunch period had gone about half way through when suddenly an incredibly loud shriek boomed through the cafeteria. A single note shredded Multiple children’s ear drums. Luckily, Maddox and Joanne had managed to narrowly avoid it, thankfully because of their placement within the food court.
A man of about their same age strutted into the room, carrying what looked to be. . . a battle axe? No, a guitar. He had long, jet black hair and large earrings. His skin was pale white, and something was odd about his eyes. They weren’t normal. They were a swirl of red white and blue, like he had been hypnotized by something. He was in a trance. He wore a torn, grey tank top, and long, tight jeans.
“Joanne Josiah! Prepare to die by the sound of my stand, WE ROCK!” He seemed overly confident in his abilities. It’s literally just a guitar. Right? He can’t win with a guitar’s sound. “I’m sure you’re thinking: “why does he think he can win so easily?” Well, my stand can manipulate sound waves!”
“. . . That’s kind of easy to take down. I’m sorry, but you don’t seem that strong.” Joanne stood up, and summoned her stand. She smiled, and prepared for battle. Soon, The user of we rock began playing a long, loud solo. She didn’t mind it, and ran carelessly towards him. She regretted that intensely, her ears ringing for quite a while. She stepped back, her legs shaking.
“SEE?! I TOLD YOU! My stand is far more powerful then yours!”
“. . . I’m just gonna step back for a while. I’m sure you should realize how bad of a matchup this is. My stand can create physical feelings such as deafness. This would leave you defenseless.” Her stand touched both of her ears, removing her abilities to hear temporarily.
The user soon realized this, and groaned. This was a bad match up. It was too easy for her. She soon ran towards him, and landed a punch. He went down quite easily after a flurry of blows. It was far too easy.
Maddox groaned a bit, not really enjoying the fight. Almost all of the kids within the vicinity of the fight were still in immense pain. Joanne knew she had to leave this place. She could be easily found by these people. It was too dangerous to be here. Joanne sighed, and went through the rest of the last day like a breeze. Maddox went home with her today, and decided he would help her figure out what was going on with these government agents.
Joanne was changing into something a bit more comfortable with Maddox in the room, obviously looking away.
“What do you think these people are doing? Why do you think they're specifically going after me of all people?”
“I don’t know. It seems random, if you ask me. It’s too dangerous to stay here. I need to find somewhere where I can be safe.”
“I’ll help you, Joanne! You’re my friend. I want to help.” Maddox stood, and turned around to look at her. She had changed into a Pure white sweater, and a pair of pleather jeans. The pearls in her hair stayed. “Are you sure Maddox? It might be dangerous. These government agents seem dangerous.”
“That’s exactly why I need to help. You may be strong on your own, but we have strength in numbers, Joanne! Which means I am absolutely coming.”
“. . .” She chuckled lightly. She walked towards him and plopped onto the bed next to him. “Thanks Maddox. I really hope we can overcome these government agents.”
The two had teamed up to figure out why the tyrannical steel chains of the government were going after her. They will not rest until they can find why these people are so dead set on her death. Later that week, the two were headed out of their state of florida, and to somewhere presumably safer. Little did they know, the government would always know where they were going. Another grunt of the leader was on their way. This time they were stronger, and not an absolute joke, like We rock.
“I’m sure this next stand user will be able to take her down. My bloodline will not interfere with my rule. I will remain as the tyrant of this world, and no one will ever question it.” The ominous figure was standing by a window, staring out at the pouring rain in the dystopian, dark world. They were determined to destroy Joanne.
They would not risk their rule.
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