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ofsinnersandsaints · 3 years

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Pebbles and Sparky

rating: G

word count: 3955

one shot

Fjord knows where Sabian is, and after a long and drawn out negotiation with the Plank King, the Mighty Nein is allowed 24 hours to find Sabian, get their business done, then get off the island.

Or, Fjord and Jester corner Sabian and scare the shit out of him in order to get the answers Fjord desperately needs

Special shout-out to @humble-wayside-flower for the nickname Sabian has for Fjord 😘

AO3

Fjord sat next to Jester in the inn’s dining room with the rest of the Mighty Nein around them as they tried to decide the best way to get to Sabian.

They were on Darktow, having been able to barter their way back onto the island after getting exiled months before. The Plank King had given them 24 hours to take of their business and get off, but if they made any noise, or were in any way disruptive, they would have the entirety of the pirate community after them.

Keeping their heads down and not making a wave wasn’t exactly the Mighty Nein’s strong suit.

Jester had scried on Sabian once they were at the inn, and had been able to narrow his location to a particularly raucous bar in the middle of town. Fjord was worried the second his old crewmate spotted him, he’d run, so they needed a way to figure out where he was and what he was planning.

“I’ll go in,” Beau offered, leaning forward with her tankard in hand. “Get a lay of the land, see if I can get eyes on him. I’m a criminal, I’ll fit in.”

“Hey,” Jester cut in, clearly offended. “We’re all criminals, Beau. We were pirates.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Beau apologized. “But that’s like, water criminals. I’m also a land criminal, I’ll just go in like I’m a wine smuggler. Give me twenty minutes.”

Two minutes of debate later the group agreed to let Beau in go alone, but Veth would trail her and keep in contact with her via message spell so if anything happened, the group could come to her aid.

“Stay safe,” Fjord encouraged as Beau adjusted her cloak, before they’d landed she’d switched it from the Cobalt blue to the plain brown to better fit in.

With a nod, and a quick squeeze of Yasha’s hand, Beau left. Jester scooted her chair closer to his and reached over to take his hand, her body pressed against his. “How are you doing?”

“It’s weird,” he admitted. “Been running towards this for a year, and suddenly I’m a couple of minutes from seeing him again.”

“It’ll be over soon,” she reminded him. “And then you don’t ever have to look back again.”

Fjord wished he could be that optimistic. “Your mouth to the Wild Mother’s ears.”

“I know,” she dug into her backpack. “I’ll draw tarot cards for you.”

He smiled as she pulled out her deck and shuffled them. Fjord didn’t particularly believe in tarot cards, but she loved doing it so much he wasn’t about to dampen her fun by telling her that. And it was fun to see her get so excited about the cards she drew, about finding meaning in them. The way he figured it, it wasn’t much different than him meditating or Caduceus doing communion.

When she looked for answers, this where she found them, and occasionally she found them for him too.

“Cut,” he told her because they’d done this half a dozen times by now.

“Okay, this is for the past,” Jester turned the card over. “Ooooh, it’s the Bed & the Hearth.”

Despite the fact they’d been together for months now he still blushed when she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at him. “The bed is up which means rest and comfort, but the fact that it’s empty means there’s decisions to be made. Which you’ve done,” she reminded him. “We’re here, we’re looking for Sabian. The next one is the present.”

He told her when to cut the cards. “This is a good card! It’s the Sword & Shield.”

According to Jester, every card was a good one, or an interesting one, but Fjord played along. He threw his arm along the back of her chair. “What does it mean?”

“It means,” she stared as she turned the pages in her little book to find the right section. She read a couple of sentences before hitting him on the leg, proof of her excitement. “The shield is up which means you’re standing up for your beliefs. It’s an indication of protectiveness, but it can also mean you’re under attack.”

Fjord didn’t believe in tarot cards, but shit did they get it right sometimes. “I don’t suppose those cards tell you whether or not I’ll succeed?”

“We’ll do a card for the future, that’ll tell us.”

He looked over her shoulder as she revealed the last card. “Storm & Sun, haven’t we seen that one before?”

Jester nodded, “The storm was up last time, but this time it’s the sun.”

“Sun is good?”

“Unless you’re Yasha, she wants to get this card with the storm up. But for you,” she quickly read the paragraph and he watched the slow smile curve across her face. “Healing, progress, and overcoming hardship. It’s good, Fjord.”

She leaned forward and kissed him. “We’re going to be okay.”

“Well, then.” Oddly enough, the knowledge and her certainty made him feel better. “Here’s to being good.”

Jester spent the remaining time doing Yasha and Caduceus’ tarot cards, and just on time Beau walked into the dining room looking confused and maybe a little angry. Veth came in a step behind her, grinning like an idiot.

“You okay there, first mate?”

Beau sat down and drank almost an entire tankard before she looked at him. “He hit on me.”

Fjord smiled at the confused and slightly offended tone to her voice. “Is he still alive?”

“Yes,” she assured him with a roll of her eyes. “He didn’t even use a good pick up line. Does that shit actually for dudes?”

He shrugged, “Sabian’s always done well with the ladies, but I always thought he was a dick. He was a one and done kind of guy.”

“He’s slick,” Beau judged. “And not in the good way. His accent sounded kind of like your old voice, but less drawl, and more clipped. I don’t like him.”

“That makes two of us.”

“Seven of us,” Caleb corrected. “What did you gather from him?”

“He didn’t give away much, but he’s not here for anything good, I can promise you that.” She reached out and took some food from Caleb’s plate. “He’s got a meeting for later though. When I turned him down he hit on some guy at the bar and they made arrangements to meet up in thirty minutes.”

“They’re going back to Sabian’s place,” Veth added. “That would be a good place to corner him.”

“We can all go,” Caleb offered. “A united front.”

“Yeah, and I’ll hide in the shadows and put a bolt in his ass if he so much as sneezes,” Veth added gleefully.

Fjord smiled, but shook his head. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, and I’d feel better knowing you lot were hovering nearby. But…But if it’s alright with everyone, I’d like to talk to him one-on-one to start.”

“I’m going with you,” Jester announced, her narrowed eyes daring him to argue with her.

“Of course you are.” Her expression immediately softened, grinning as if she’d just won an argument he’d had no intention of starting. “If anything goes down, Jester can send an SOS.”

Caleb and Beau looked at each other and after a moment they both nodded. “Okay, but we’ll stay close by, just in case. Ja?”

Fjord nodded and grabbed Jester’s hand as they both stood up. “We’ll talk soon.”

Together he and Jester walked towards where Beau and last seen Sabian. Apparently he’d been living here for a while, which meant there was a better than good chance he’d been here during their brief visit before. What would he have done if he’d known?

“Do we have a game plan?”

Fjord snorted at the question, “No. Should we?”

“Beau would probably have come up with one,” Jester shrugged, but she didn’t seem particularly concerned.

“Probably shouldn’t start out with punching him.”

“Probably not,” she agreed. “We can try being nice.”

He thought about it for a second before shaking his head. “No, he wouldn’t buy it.”

“Then we play it by ear,” she decided. “We’ll see what his reaction to seeing you is.”

“I’m kind of hoping he shits his pants.”

Jester laughed and swung their intertwined hands back and forth. “Me two. Get it? Two.”

“Excellent pun.”

“I thought so. Do you think he knows about the bounty hunter?”

“Probably not, Kotho seemed pretty damn good at her job.”

“Then we’ll definitely have the element of surprise.”

Fjord nodded and kept an eye out for the people leaving the nondescript building a couple doors down from the bar. It only took a few minutes for the half elf to emerge, instantly recognizable with his dark skin and easy swagger. It was bizarre to see Sabian so unchanged.

The past few months had utterly change Fjord, he was stronger, better, and yet Sabian looked almost exactly as he had the morning of the shipwreck. Lean and rangy, he was stronger than he looked and quicker than anyone else on the Tide’s Breath.

Fjord walked along the sidewalk, Jester at his side, and then crossed the street to put himself in Sabian’s way. The half-elf orphan with a quick simile and shuttered eyes widened when he realized who he was looking at.

“Well, well. If it isn’t my old buddy.” Fjord watched as Sabian took in the entire scene, saw those dark eyes dart around as if to make sure there weren’t more people hiding in the shadows. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Sabian’s charm was almost a match for his own, but Fjord immediately caught deception in the casual greeting. Whatever Sabian felt, whatever he’d planned for the night, he was jut a little scared at the sight of Fjord suddenly in front of him. “Nice to see you survived.”

“You as well,” he smirked and tucked his hands into his pockets, rocking back on his heels. “Not scars, I hope?”

He had three, but Sabian he said, “Nothing I couldn’t survive.”

“Seems you found some treasure at the bottom of the ocean,” Sabian pointed out as he looked at Jester. “Sabian Flint, at your service.”

Jester’s voice was flat as she met the sailor’s eyes. “Charmed, I’m sure.”

Fjord barely held back at a laugh at her response. Instead he took a step towards his old acquaintance. “I have some questions to ask you.”

Sabian shook his head. “It’s in the past, let it go.”

“Let it go?” Fjord demanded, anger rising to the surface at the sheer lack of concern in Sabian’s voice. “Those sailors died, they’re gone, men we served with, worked shoulder to shoulder with for years. They had people who loved them, who miss them, and they deserve answers. I deserve answers.”

“Calm down, Pebbles.”

The nickname wasn’t new, and neither was the patronizing tone, but Fjord was more than willing to let it slide off his back. His girlfriend apparently had other ideas, as he saw a flash of blue out of the corner of his eye. He barely had a chance to wrap his arm around Jester’s waist before she socked Sabian in front of a crowd.

“He’s not worth it, Jessie.”

She struggled for a second, and they both knew if she wanted to she could escape, but she eventually settled. “It’s Captain Tusktooth, you asshole.”

Sabian smiled, as if he was looking at a small kitten showing its claws. Fjord was more than a little tempted to release his grip on Jester and let her beat him to a pulp, but it might be a better idea to let him think they were weak. The Mighty Nein would prove Sabian wrong if it came down to it.

“Captain, huh? Got a ship of your own?”

“Yes,” he confirmed, but didn’t elaborate. He didn’t want to give Sabian any more information than was strictly necessary. “And a crew. None of whom would stab each other and then blow up the ship.”

“You really don’t understand,” Sabian shook his head as if disappointed in Fjord. “And you never will.”

“I understand more than you think.”

“And yet you still felt the need to track me down to ask me questions? You’re as clueless as you’ve always been, Pebbles. But you know what they say, ignorance is bliss. Enjoy your bliss, and your lady friend, and stay out of my way.”

Fjord watched Sabian turn around to walk away, and he couldn’t think of anything to say to stop him. Aside from physically detaining him, there wasn’t much he could do.

“What did he promise you?” Jester asked to Sabian’s retreating back. “For every soul Uk’otoa gets, he gives you a little more power?”

Sabian stopped walking, his entire body seeming to have frozen in place. Slowly, he turned to face them both. “Excuse me?”

Jester snorted and crossed her arms in front of her. “You think you’re the only person who knows about the snea snake? Because you’re not.”

“He can’t be that high up,” Fjord added. He had no idea how Jester had connected those dots, but now that she’d said it, he couldn’t believe he hadn’t realized the possibility sooner. “He probably doesn’t even know about the orbs.”

“Oh, definitely not.”

“What do you know about Uk’otoa?” Sabian asked, but Fjord was drawn to the way Sabian’s fingers had begun to move. He recognized those movements, they’d been instinctual to him after surviving the ocean.

Sabian knew magic.

Before his former crewmate could do whatever he planned, Fjord cast a spell of his own. Throwing out the magic towards Sabian before he could do any damage to himself or Jester.

“What did you do?” Sabian demanded. His voice was strained and Fjord could all but see the muscles tighten as Sabian attempted to fight against the paralyzation which had suddenly come over him.

“I cast hold person,” Fjord explained matter-of-factly.

“Impressive,” Jester complimented him. “He can escape from it though, can’t he?”

“That’s what I’ve got you for.”

Jester’s grin was bright and eager as she patted the axe at her side. “I’ve been wanting to hit him for a while now.”

“Let’s get him out of the open though.” They hadn’t made a scene yet, but it was only a matter of time before someone noticed Sabian couldn’t move. “I don’t want anyone helping this piece of shit.”

“No problem,” Jester picked up Sabian by the waist and Fjord laughed so hard he was pretty sure he pulled something in his rib. “Come on, Sparky.”

She carried him down an alleyway as Fjord followed her. “Fuck, I wish the rest of the crew could see this.”

Jester grinned over her shoulder as she set Sabian back down, still paralyzed but anger and embarrassment darkening his cheeks.

“You dumbass half-orc,” Sabian roared. “I’ll get out of this and then you’ll regret ever finding me.”

“Shut up or I’ll make you shut up,” Jester warned and the look in her eye must have been enough of a warning because while Sabian still threw daggers from his eyes, he didn’t say anything else.

“If we try to take him back to the ship like this, he’ll call for help,” Fjord pointed out, fully aware Sabian could hear them.

“We can stick him in the bag of holding and take him back to the ship.”

“He might die in there,” Fjord pointed out casually.

“He’s got at least ten minutes,” Jester reminded him, voice pragmatic. “But we are in the middle of Darktow, so it might take longer than that. We’d have to walk fast.”

“And work up a sweat?” Fjord asked, feigning disgust. “No, thank you.”

“Good point,” Jester chewed on her lip as if she was deep in thought. “I mean, if he dies I can always bring him back. Or we could just cast speak with the dead and get our answers that way. We don’t actually need him alive.”

Fjord nodded, fully aware Jester was playing to the growing fear in Sabian’s eyes. He wanted to kiss her, but he figured now probably wasn’t the time. Instead, he held out his open palm and summoned the Star-Razor. Turning to face Sabian he put the sword to the half-elf’s neck, putting just enough pressure on the skin for Sabian to feel it. “You’re going to come with me, and you’re going to cooperate.”

“Why the hell would I do that?”

“Because if you don’t, I’ll kill you.”

“We both will,” Jester corrected helpfully. “We like to do couple things together like get revenge on dumb, small dicked cowards like yourself.”

Sabian’s eyes flitted from Jester to Fjord, confusion mixing with a growing sense of fear. “Fine, I’ll go with you.”

“Holy shit, that’s him?” Beau asked as Yasha tied up Sabian in one of the storage rooms on the lower decks.

“Yeah,” Fjord nodded. “Yasha, could you maybe gag him too?”

“Love too,” Yasha answered, and passed over two different pieces of cloth before finding a dirty rag and shoving it in Sabian’s mouth.

Fjord was going to buy her a hundred flowers for that alone.

“Hold on, I don’t want him to hear us talking.” Jester turned and cast a quick spell, “There. I cast silence on him, now he can’t hear us and even better we won’t be able to hear him.”

“Thanks,” Fjord ran a hand down her back. “We should get the rest of the Nein down here. I don’t want to go far in case he manages to get out of those manacles.”

“I’ll get the others,” Beau offered, then turned towards the stairs and shouted at the top of her lungs for rest of the group. With a triumphant grin she looked back to Fjord. “There, they should be here in a second.”

“I think you destroyed one of my ear drums.”

Beau shrugged and didn’t even pretend to hide her grin, but good as her word, the other three members of the Mighty Nein came below decks. “You bellowed, Beau?”

“Fjord and Jester kidnapped Sabian-“

“Sparky,” Jester corrected. “We’re calling him Sparky now because he was rude to Fjord.”

“Cool,” Beau acknowledged. “And now I guess we’re going to interrogate him. Is that the plan?”

“We didn’t really plan much further than bringing him to the ship,” Fjord admitted. “But I think Jester figured out why Sabian did what he did.”

“I think Uk’otoa got to him,” Jester explained. “Or maybe Avantika? Possibly Vandran, but either way I think Sabian found out there was a powerful sea god who could give him powers, and what better way to prove your allegiance than to gift him with a dozen drowned sailors?”

“You think he blew up the boat to get in Uk’otoa’s good graces?”

“What other reason would he have had?” Jester asked Veth.

“She’s right,” Caduceus nodded. “It was just a merchant ship, wasn’t it? There was no strategic reason to bring it down, and you said the ship was practically empty, didn’t you Fjord?”

“Yeah, we were on our way to pick up cargo.”

“And it’s not like Sabian had insurance on the ship. There was no reason to bring down the Tide’s Breath except to kill everyone on board.”

“He’s not very powerful,” Fjord pointed out. “If he’s got magic, he doesn’t have a lot of it.”

“Power comes from experience,” Caleb explained. “If he’s been hiding out on the island since the sinking, then he’s not exactly testing his boundaries.”

“Coward,” Beau muttered.

“That’s what I said!” Jester laughed. “I also said he has a small dick, but I don’t know that personally.”

“He looks like a guy with a small dick,” Yasha nodded sagely. “Probably can’t hold his liquor either.”

Beau leaned over to look at Sabian. ��You’re totally right, babe.”

“So what are we going to do with him?” Veth asked, refocusing the conversation. “Cause if we have to share our rations with a prisoner he’s not getting any of mine.”

“The Plank King gave us 24 hours to take care of our business, and while I think Jester’s right about why, I still have a lot of questions. After that, I think we should give him over to the locals and let them deal with him.”

“They can’t have good opinions about men who kill their fellow crew members,” Caleb agreed. “They’ll exact their own justice.”

“Hopefully the same kind of justice they gave Avantika,” Jester muttered. “But hopefully this time he doesn’t creepily climb over our ship as an undead sea witch.”

Veth shivered at the memory. “The less we can have that happen, the better.”

“Someone make a scary ‘let’s kill him’ gesture,” Jester ordered and without missing a beat Yasha drew her thumb across her neck and then looked directly at Sabian.

“That should not have been as sexy as it was,” Beau commented and Fjord rolled his eyes.

“Keep it in your pants, Beau.”

She glared at him and then they both just grinned.

“Okay, I’m going to talk to him, see what info I can get.” He looked down at Jester, “Mind being my muscle for a little bit longer?”

Jester put her hand over her heart and looked incredibly sincere as she looked him in the eye. “It would be my honor, Fjord.”

“Let us know if you need any help,” Caduceus offered. “I don’t think I’d be any good at interrogating a live person, but it might be interesting to find out.”

A chuckle rippled through the group and then they dispersed.

“Ready?” Jester asked.

“One thing first.” Fjord tugged Jester out of Sabian’s eyeline and leaned down to kiss her. Jester rose up on her tiptoes and kissed him back, both of them just taking the moment before Fjord eventually pulled away.

“What was that for?” Jester asked.

“I need a reason?”

She smiled and shook her head. “Not normally, no. But that felt like it had a reason.”

“Just… thanks for having my back.”

“Anytime,” she promised. “Now, let’s get Sparky to pee his pants.”

Fjord waited until he stopped laughing before walking into the room. “Mind getting rid of the spell?”

“Oh, right.” Jester waved her hand and they could suddenly hear the grunting of Sabian fighting against the binds and gag.

“Before we let you have your say, there’s a couple things I want you to hear.” Fjord once again made the Star Razor appear and he rested the tip against the wood of the floor and spun it around idly. “I’d like to have answers, it would make everything quite a bit easier, but the thing is: I’ve lived without answers for a while now, and I think I could live the rest of my life without them.”

Sabian’s eyes darted behind him, and without looking Fjord knew Jester and created her serrated lollipop, the slightly purple glow reflecting off his sword was easily recognizable. “So the thing is, I could kill you, and move on. Eventually, I’ll forgot about you and the fish will eat you, and there will be no evidence you ever existed. Or…”

Tearing his eyes away from the terrifying spiritual candy, Sabian narrowed his eyes at Fjord. “Or what?”

“Or you could tell us what we want to know and go back to Darktow. As long as you don’t leave, we’ll let you live. Otherwise?” Fjord picked up the sword and swung it around. “I’m going to see how many times I can cut you before you beg for mercy.”

“Who the fuck are you?”

Fjord stepped forward, all the confidence and self-assurance he’d faked in the past now real, and smiled slow and wicked. “The lady already told you, I’m Captain Tusktooth. And you’re going to tell me what I want to know.”

#critical role #critical role fic #fjorester #fjord #jester lavorre

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eclecticstarlightconnoisseur · 4 years

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EDINBURGH TO BOSTON - CHAPTER 19 - THE KING’S GAMBIT

Good evening all. So now that we are all caught up with the previous two chapters, I am posting the most recent chapter called The King’s Gambit. This one also is NSFW. It will be the last of this type for a while, since are many other things these two babies need to do, like go back to work.

Why did this chapter take so long? I don’t know. All I know is I couldn’t get it right. So thank you to @scubalass who kept on me until it become something worth posting.

I appreciate any thoughts, comments, suggestions, recommendations that anyone may have. Any questions anyone has fire away.

So without any further delay, I give to you, for better or worse:

Edinburgh to Scotland

Chapter 19

The King’s Gambit

The pale cold light from a winter sun came through the bedroom window. It was the type of light that illuminated but did not lend warmth. It was, however, warm and cozy in bed next to Claire. Jamie didn’t want to get up by a long shot, but the reality of life would intrude today and there was no sense in postponing it.

He quietly got up rummaging through a drawer finding an old pair of sweatpants and a tee-shirt; he dressed quickly turned and looked at Claire sleeping.

Her hair was a wild mess, like a dandelion puff that exploded. She’ll hate it, he thought. He, on the other hand, rather liked it as he thought it suited her, ferocious and untamed. Maybe that was what he loved about her. She reminded him of the Highlands, fierce, unrestrained, yet warm, loving, and tender as a spring flower. And beautiful. He gently brought the blanket up to cover her properly and silently left her to her slumber.

Claire turned onto her side searching for Jamie only finding a cold empty bed. Cracking one eye open she scoured the room for any sign of her Scot. To her dismay, he was nowhere to be found. She wiggled her bum intending to burrow down into the inviting bed for a few more minutes of sleep when the enticing smell of fresh coffee wafted under her nose pulling at her like a doomed sailor to a siren’s song.

Standing up, Claire smiled at the pleasant soreness between her legs remembering their amorous activities of last night and earlier this morning. Thinking she would find him in the kitchen, she wrapped her robe around herself and padded off in search of her Scot and coffee.

She found him seated at the island, a coffee mug in hand staring intently at his laptop. Leaning over, Claire wrapped her arms around him resting her head on his shoulder.

“Good morning,” she murmured, placing a delicate kiss on his cheek.

Jamie took her hand lovingly kissing her palm, “Ye slept well then, lass?” he inquired.

“Very well. Better than I have in a long time,” Claire replied sounding pleased.

She turned her head to observe the screen realizing he had logged in to the hospital’s portal to review their upcoming OR schedule.

“I see you’re busy checking our calendar.”

“Aye, I have. There’s a CABG followed by a mitral valve repair/replacement as soon as we get back. The remainder of the week is just as busy.” He was crestfallen at not being able to help her. “Ye ken I canna help ye. So I was looking tae see who was free.”

Claire poured a cup of coffee and sat next to Jamie to review the surgical roster. “Look, I think Pound is free all week. He’s getting ready to graduate and could use more hands-on time. And he is quite good. I trust him. I think we have our problem solved,” Claire said as she sipped her coffee. “Do you think you could cover my other duties while I’m operating? That should ease the burden on the two of us.”

“I can. Now I just need to tell the Chief,” Jamie rolled his eyes and grimaced with the prospect of having this conversation with the pompous old windbag.

“Then I shall leave you to it,” Claire grabbed her cup and stood as if to leave wanting to give Jamie some privacy for the phone call.

“No, I dinna want ye to leave,” he reached out grasping her hand. It was strange how he had come to rely on her in such a short time. Claire became his pillar, his strength.

“I dinna like the man. He may be Chief but…there is just something about him that’s no’ right.”

She looked at him with sympathy. “I know what you mean. I have thought him to be rather Janus-faced, friendly and kind but insincere and unscrupulous. I have heard rumors about how he treats other surgeons,” provoking a shiver to run down her spine. “But, he likes you. I don’t think there should be much of a problem.”

“Aye, that's what I fear. “I dinna like his attentions,” he huffed.

“You are very talented and a much better surgeon than he is. He knows it and I have a suspicion he doesn’t like it.”

Jamie blushed at her praise. That kind of praise coming from Claire Beauchamp meant something.

Tightening his grip on her hand, he pulled Claire closer. He looked up at her beseechingly. “Besides, mo nighean donn, this affects you as well. We have been partners long before we became…more.”

He didn’t know how to define what they are. Boyfriend and girlfriend? That sounds rather like high school. Lovers? That they were. But it did not encompass everything. Companions, partners? That still did not cover what their relationship was. He was at a loss to explain what their relationship should be called. What would explain it enough without demeaning its significance? Did it really matter how they referred to each other? She is the love of his life. And that’s what mattered.

“Ye need to be part of the discussion and the solution.” He looked at her encouraging her to stay.

“You’re right, Jamie. We need to face things together.”

“Aye, there’s the two of us now,” he smiled with the thought. Whatever they faced they would present a united front.

Taking a deep breath, Jamie placed the call.

“Good day to ye Ainsley. Dr. Fraser here, would the Chief be available?” Jamie inquired almost hoping that he was not. Get it over with Fraser. If not now then it will be later. Jamie heaved a large sigh.

“Aye, Dr. Fraser. Let me connect you.”

Soft nondescript music played as he waited for his boss to pick up the line. He puffed out his cheeks and rolled his eyes toward the ceiling with impatience, anxious to get the call over with.

“Jaamie,” the honeyed voice drawled. “How is my favorite surgeon? Hum? Ready to come back with all these new techniques that will improve our department?” The avarice was apparent in his voice. His greed extended not only to money, but to position, fame, but most of all power.

“Weel, sir that’s the reason for my call. I had a wee accident while in Boston injuring my right hand and I’ll no’ be able to operate for a few weeks.”

Claire placed her hand on Jamie’s thigh giving it a gentle squeeze in support.

“You what!?” The Chief sputtered. “Where was Beauchamp while all of this was going on??” He muttered under his breath, but obviously not low enough not to be heard, “Damn the woman! You think she could control one man.”

Claire’s hand went to cover her mouth to smother her laughter. She expected nothing better from him. “Utter arse!”

Jamie scowled at her, for laughing. Claire shrugged her shoulders, leaned over and kissed his cheek.

“She was no’ there when the accident happened. I should be fine in a few weeks. In the meantime, Dr. Beauchamp and I have assessed the situation and devised a plan that will allow for our caseload tae go on unimpeded. I believe that Dr. Elias Pound is available to assist Dr. Beauchamp with the surgeries while I assume the teaching, rounding, and clinic duties. We believe this is a satisfactory solution.”

“It seems you two have everything sorted. I can always count on the two of you to rise to the occasion.” There was a brief pause in the conversation accompanied by some soft muttering from Sandringham’s end. “Jamie, I want you to see our hand surgeon, Dr. Hildegarde de Gascogne to manage your care. As you are aware, she is world-renowned and I want only the best for you, my lad. You are a very valuable asset to our department, ” he wheezed. ”Ainsley will call you with an appointment.” Sandringham’s feigned attempt at concern was easily heard in his voice as it was hollow lacking sincerity for Jamie’s well being.

His tone became unctuous and slick, “Are you in much pain, dear boy? Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Ah, no. Thank ye, Dr. Sandringham. Dr. Beauchamp and I have this well under control. I’ll be expecting Ainsley’s call.”

“Very well then. Oh, and Dr. Fraser do be more careful, hmm?”

“Aye, sir. Good day tae ye.” He exhaled heavily now feeling able to draw a deep breath.

“That wasn’t so bad was it?” Claire said with a smirk.

“Easy for you tae say. Ye dinna have tae speak tae the man.”

“No, I didn’t. But, he thinks I should have prevented you from injuring yourself.” Little did Jamie know that Claire did blame herself for his broken fingers and that he re-injured his hand a second time.

“Dinna fash, Sassenach. I promised ye I would beat Frank into a pudding if I ever saw him. ‘Tis an honor tae care for ye, protect ye.”

She looked up at him as if he were her knight in shining armor, “I don't know if I ever thanked you for coming to my rescue that night, but thank you.”

Claire sat on his lap snuggling up against him resting her head in the crook of his neck. Jamie wrapped his arms around her waist bringing her closer to him. She relaxed into him feeling safe and loved in his strong arms. Her fingers wound their way through his ginger curls. His hair had grown and was longer than he usually wore it. “I like your hair a little longer, especially when it curls. I don’t want you to cut it.”

“As ye wish mo leannan.”

They sat enjoying the peace between them listening to each other's breath.

Jamie leaned down placing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Do ye ken how much I like to hold ye?”

“No, I don’t. Why don’t you tell me?” sighed Claire.

“I do it because I like the nearness of ye.” He smiled at her shyly as if he were going to impart some great secret. ”There is a hole here in my chest,” he said letting one hand go from around her waist and pointing to his heart. “’Tis been there my whole life. I dinna ken what it was or what caused it, this hollowness there. Now that I found ye I kent what ‘tis. ’Tis a chasm that only ye can fill, Claire. Ye are the missing piece of my heart. And when I hold ye close tae me, ‘tis no’ empty. It doesna hurt anymore when yer near me.”

She kissed his eyelids, the tip of his nose, cheekbones, finally finding his mouth. She kissed him lightly. Growing bolder, she allowed her tongue to trace his lush sensual lips savoring the taste of him.

Jamie groaned deeply. “Claire,” he whispered her name reverently as if saying a prayer. He looked at her as if she was the embodiment of all that is holy. As if she was sent to him by the gods for him to cherish and love.

Leaning forward her mouth pressed near the tender lobe of his ear as she breathed, “Do you want me, Jamie?”

“Ye dinna ken what ye do tae me mo chridhe. How am I tae resist ye? My body is here tae serve ye as ye wish.

Jamie lowered his face, bringing his lips to hers. His tongue caressed the seam of her lips, seeking entry. Her lips were soft, warm, and yielded to his desire. She opened to him like a flower in full bloom. Their tongues twinned together engaging in a ritual courtship dance.

His cell phone rang and vibrated on the table. He saw it was Sandringham’s office and pushed the phone away with annoyance expecting the message to go to voicemail.

“So, where were we?” He queried as his tongue licked the sensitive skin at the juncture of Claire’s neck and throat. Using his teeth he bit her causing Claire to erupt in chill bumps as she moaned in pleasure.

His hand slid between the folds of the gossamer fabric that covered her. Her skin was warm, silky. And her breasts ah...they were full and heavy. He ran a finger over a nipple making it harden and round just like a perfect pearl. How he longed to take it in his mouth and suckle like a babe at her breast.

His mobile began to chime and vibrate. It skittered on the slick granite top, pulling their attention to the offending little device. Sighing Claire picked it up showing Jamie the home screen alert. Clarence Sandringham.

“I think you should take the call. He’ll keep calling. We can always pick up where we left off later.”

Jamie grudgingly answered the call. It was Ainsley with the information about his appointment.

“Thank ye kindly, Ainsley. I will be there,” as he placed the information on his calendar.

“I’m seeing Dr. de Gascogne Monday at 1 pm. Do ye think ye will be free tae come with me?”

“You want me to come with you? Why ever for?” She wanted to tease him asking if he was afraid of going to the doctor, but held her tongue.

He looked at Claire with soft sweet imploring eyes, “I would feel better with ye by my side ‘tis all.” The tips of his ears pinked as he thought of his need for her by his side supporting him.

“Well if you wish that I come with you, of course, I will.”

Jamie let out a breath he didn’t know that he was holding, “Thank ye Sassenach.” He didn’t want to admit he was nervous and afraid. Afraid his hand would not heal well and he would never be able to operate again. Worse yet, he feared he would not be able to care for Claire, love her, or serve her as she deserves. And she deserved a whole man, not a broken one.

Claire sensing a change in Jamie’s mood cleared her throat feeling that the moment between them had broken. The fire in their bellies had been smoored but not extinguished. She gave Jamie a light kiss on his lips, “Shall I make us breakfast?”

“Nay, lass. ‘Tis my turn to make breakfast. How about I make ye some of my famous parritch with berries? I can do that one-handed.”

“ Alright. Then I guess it’s my turn to make a phone call.”

“Tae who, Sassenach?”

“My dog sitter, Mrs. Bug. I think I should let her know when I’ll be home and pick up Ginger.”

“Aye, that would be a good idea. Ye go on and make yer call. I’ll let ye know when breakfast is ready.”

Claire dialed the number and the phone was picked up quickly. In the background she could hear the cacophony of a television playing, children laughing, and a dog barking. Her sweet girl.

“Ethan, ye wee gomeral, put that down afore ye break it. Hello,” shouted what sounded like an exasperated Mrs. Bug.

“Hallo, Mrs. Bug. It’s Claire. It seems I have caught you at a bad time. I just called to let you know I would be by to pick up Ginger on Sunday evening if that’s alright with you?”

“Claire, ma dearie, och ‘tis not a bad time.”

“Caleb, dinna make me come over there. Be a good lad and eat yer parritach. Dinna put it in yer brother’s hair.”

“Sunday would be fine. Shall I make ye some soup? I’ll wager ye dinna eat properly while ye were away.”

“No, no, that’s not necessary, Mrs. Bug,” Claire sighed with exasperation. Mrs. Bug was always trying to feed her up.

“Yer too thin, lass. Ye need to put some meat on yer bones. Gives a man something tae hang on tae. Ye ken what I mean?” Claire swore she heard Mr. Bug snicker in the background.

Before she could respond to Mrs. Bugs’ latest attempt to meddle in her life, there was the sound of pottery crashing accompanied by loud wailing in the background.

She seized the opportunity to end the call. “I think you are needed at the moment. I’ll see you on Sunday, Mrs. Bug. Give my regards to your husband. Take care.” Claire clicked off the call and exhaled a deep breath. She did not know how the elderly couple managed to babysit children, pets, and find the time to pry into other people's lives. She was exhausted just listening to the carrying on.

“Is everything alright, Sassenach?”

“Yes, fine. The Bugs are a sweet elderly couple. They are really grandparents to the entire neighborhood. But they take on so much that I just don’t know how they manage.”

“It seems they enjoy it. Everyone needs to feel useful,” Jamie pointed out. “Now, come and eat. Breakfast is ready milady. ‘Tis no’ as fancy as you make it, but it will fill ye up.”

He pulled out her chair waiting for her to take her seat.

Claire lowered her eyes and a small smile flitted across her face. No man had ever done that for her before.

Jamie served her the parritch topped with strawberries, sliced almonds, and drizzled with honey.

“‘Tis no’ gourmet, but ‘tis no’ lumpy. I dinna like lumpy parritch,” he grimaced with the thought. He stood next to Claire anxiously waiting for her to taste it. Anxious being the operative word.

Claire dove in tasting his offering. It was delicious. Creamy with a bit of cinnamon in it as well.

Jamie watched intently as she ate it. He didn't know why he was so worried if she liked the parritch, but he was. Well if he was honest with himself he knew she was a better cook than he and he wanted to please her. He felt foolish worrying so, after all, it was only parritch. But he couldn’t help himself. “Do ye like it Sassenach? Is it too hot? Maybe ye would like a bit of cream. I dinna want ye tae burn yer tongue. Would ye like more honey? I could make ye something else if ye dinna like it,” he worried chewing his lower lip.

Claire smiled, the tip of her tongue slipped out and caught a golden drop of honey on her lip, “Jamie, it’s delicious, really. Please sit down and eat before it gets cold.”

Pleasure lit up his face at seeing her enjoyment. Hurriedly he sat down and began to eat with great enthusiasm.

They chatted amicably enjoying their meal and each other’s company.

“Why don’t ye take our coffee into tae sitting room, Claire, while I clear the table?” Jamie stood at the sink rinsing the dishes then stacking them in the dishwasher.

“Alright.” Carrying their mugs of coffee into the sitting room, Claire placed them on the wooden trunk he used as a coffee table. She wandered around the room looking at the objects that occupied the space as if they would reveal the secrets of the man she loved. She came upon a striking antique mahogany table that stood near the fireplace that was inlaid with white and black marble squares. Two elegantly carved chairs were situated so they sat opposite each other at the table. She ran a hand lovingly across the tabletop admiring its fine craftsmanship.

“‘Tis magnificent, is it no’?” he inquired, wrapping his arms around Claire’s waist nuzzling at her neck. “‘Tis a family heirloom. It belonged to a great, great, great uncle who lived in Paris in tae 18th century. He was a wine merchant and a Jacobite as weel.”

“It’s truly beautiful. Do you have the original chessmen that go with it?” asked Claire.

“Aye, I do,” he replied, opening a side draw revealing the chess pieces. He pulled out the black Queen handing it to Claire.

She stroked it lovingly appreciating the fine detail of the carving. “It is an exquisite piece, a work of art.”

Jamie looked at her hopefully, “Ye wouldna happen tae play would ye? ‘Tis hard for me tae find an opponent. No’ many people want tae play against me.”

Claire brightened, “I do play. Lamb taught me when I was a child.” Her face misted over with the memories of nightly chess games with either Lamb or Firouz by the campfire. Each man taught her what moves to make, strategies to employ, and tried to instill in her the value of competition, of being a good winner. But more importantly, the virtue of losing gracefully. “Lamb believed that it would make me a logical thinker and develop strong problem-solving skills. And he was quite right. It’s been invaluable to me as a surgeon.” But Claire knew that playing chess had increased her already present competitive spirit. She liked to win.

His heart gladdened with the news. “Might I entice ye tae play a game with me?”

“I would love to. It’s been so long though, I might be a bit rusty.” Claire stopped remembering what he said. ‘Tis hard for me tae find an opponent. No’ many people want tae play against me. Curiosity got the better of her. “Um, Jamie? Why can’t you find anyone to play a game with?”

“Sit Sassenach, make yerself comfortable,” he offered. A sly grin spread across his face. “Ladies choice, which do ye prefer, the black or the white?”

“White. No, I’d prefer black. I don’t like making the opening move.”

“Having the opening move can give ye an advantage and ye will need it. I was Captain of my chess club in high school and in Uni. I’m no’ being bold when I tell ye I have won many competitions. I am offering ye a chance tae win.” A cocky look spread across his face as he went about setting up the chessboard.

So that’s why no one will play with him. He was a chess prodigy. “No, I didn’t know that.” Tapping a finger against the table, Claire carefully weighed this new piece of information deciding how to use it. She played well but simply was not in Jamie’s league. Her competitive nature rose to the surface with his challenge. If she wanted to win, and she did, she knew she would need an edge. Just, not the one he was offering.

”No, I stand by my choice. I’ll take black,” she smiled coyly. There’s more than one way to win this game, my lad, she thought.

The first mistake, he mused. By allowing him to open it would allow him to play aggressively. He wanted the game over in twenty moves or less. And to do that he would make use of the King’s Gambit. Bobby Fischer defeated an opponent in eight maneuvers. Jamie knew he was good but not that good.

He opened by moving his pawn to e-4.

Claire countered by placing a pawn to e-5.

A white pawn moved to f-4.

Smiling smugly, Claire accepted the challenge by taking this pawn.

Just what I want, he thought as his lip turned slightly upward. Not wanting to appear aggressive and moving too quickly, Jamie sat rubbing his chin in concentration.

Looking up he watched as Claire’s fingers lightly stroked her arm up then down. Her fingers eventually traveled up, over her shoulder then down to graze over the edge of her breast. Slowly. Touching herself just with the tips of her fingernails the outline of her breast became visible beneath her silk robe. She followed the same pattern over and over. His mouth hung open hypnotized by her. He shook his head like a wet dog to dispel his thoughts. And oh what thoughts he was having.

“Knight to f-3,” he announced.

Claire smiled taking in his chosen placement.

She licked her lips jutting out her plump bottom lip as she considered her next position.

Surreptitiously, Jamie looked at that sweet voluptuous lip peeping out at him. What he wouldn't give to suck it into his mouth and tease it with his teeth and tongue. Christ, the woman was driving him mad. Get yer mind back on the game, he told himself.

“Pawn to g-5.”

Jamie looked pleased with her play. He bit the inside of his cheek while considering his next strategic move.

Claire studied the board intently waiting for Jamie to place his piece. Her index finger gravitated to her lips gently gliding over it. Lips parting, her fingertip entered her mouth and she began to lightly suck it. Her finger floated across her lips making them glisten with the dew from her mouth. She smiled coquettishly as she dropped her hand to caress the black Bishop. Her movements were sensuous, sliding over the chess piece from top to bottom, bottom to top. She made a slight twisting motion as she stroked the piece.

Jamie’s eyes never left her hand. His mouth went dry.

“It’s still your turn” she whispered demurely.

“Pawn to h-4,” he choked out his words. Small beads of sweat appeared on his lip.

“Pawn to g-5” she stated sweetly.

Jamie refused to look up at her, “Knight to g-5.”

“Hum, interesting, Pawn to h-6.” Jamie’s hand rested next to the board. She placed her hand over his and began to trace patterns over the back of his hand.

He burned from the contact of her skin on his. Gently he removed his hand, immediately regretting the loss of her caress. Rubbing the side of his nose he tried to clear his head from the sight and feel of her. He meant to win this game and she was doing her best to distract him. Weel, he wouldna let her.

“Knight to f-7,” Jamie countered hoping Claire would expose her King.

Claire brought her King forward taking Jamie’s Knight.

“Queen to g-4,” Jamie grinned, setting up his advanced attack.

“Knight to f-6,” Claire defends her King.

Jamie smirked, after this move, he was three moves away from winning. “Queen to f-4.”

He looked at Claire, finding her absorbed pondering her next move. Her hand followed the V of the neckline of her robe. Leaning forward, her hand gracefully began to trace her décolletage exposing more and more skin with each pass of her hand. Soon the curve of her breast was exposed.

His eyes darkened with just a sliver of blue iris exposed. A deep rumbling noise rose from the back of his throat, dangerous, predatory.

Stretching, Claire reached for her King placing it on f-8 enabling Jamie to see her hardened nipples straining against the filmy fabric.

He rose walking to the side of the table bending over as if to examine the position of the pieces in play. Straightening up he turned and snatched Claire’s arm pulling her impossibly close to his heated body.

“Let’s play something else,” he growled, capturing her mouth as he had planned on seizing her King. His mouth was hungry for hers. He licked, nipped, and tasted her mouth with kisses slow and erotic. One hand reached up and cupped her head while the other drew her closer against him, jealous of the space the air between them occupied. His kisses deepened, searing her lips. His hand buried deeper into her curls, as his kisses became more demanding.

Claire melted against him, her mouth open to him as her robe gave way leaving her exposed. He palmed her breast roughly feeling the puckered nipple under his hand. He rolled it between his fingers causing her to whimper.

“Yer a right dodgy player Claire. Ye dinna play fair teasing me, distracting me throughout the game,” he snarled. “And for that, yer coming with me. We’re gonna play a new game.”

He lifted her, threw her over his shoulder, and strode with single-mindedness toward the bedroom.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Fraser? Put me down this instant!” Claire bellowed kicking her legs, hitting him in the back in between fits of laughter.

“Haud yer wheesht, woman!”

Jamie unceremoniously dropped Claire onto the bed. Standing at the side of the bed he loomed over her. His breath harsh and his chest heaving. His eyes were glazed over with lust. She lit a fire in his belly that needed to be put out. He licked his lips anticipating what was to come next.

Claire scrambled to her knees backing away from him just a little.

Raising her chin in defiance, “What do you plan on doing to me?”

His lips curled into a smirk, “I’m going to kiss ye.”

She blinked. “We’re going to play a kissing game? Isn’t that childish?” she asked in confusion.

“Oh no, lassie, ‘tis a verra good game. ‘Tis one where I get tae devour ye and leave ye with naught but yer cries for mercy.”

Claire studied him, trying to puzzle him out. She eventually gave it up as a lost cause.

“Um, well I do like kissing you.”

“I ken that.” His eyes gleamed.

Jamie crawled up onto the bed. His body radiated so much heat it could be felt from several inches away. He was a blazing inferno.

He sat back on his haunches fixing her with a piercing look.

Claire’s spine tingled under his scrutiny. It was unnerving her.

“Give me yer mouth, Sassenach,” he requested sweetly.

Claire leaned forward and placed a quick peck on his lips.

“Ok, so we’re done, right?” she asked nervously not quite knowing what to expect.

“And ye call that a kiss? Tsk! Nay, we haven’t even started yet,” he grinned wickedly.

Jamie removed his shirt then sat back to remove his sweatpants.

He shifted himself to sit so his back rested against the headboard. “Come here, sit beside me,” he requested, patting the space next to him.

Claire hesitated for a moment then moved to sit beside him.

His arm came up wrapping around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him.

“See, that’s so much nicer, is it no’?”

“What are you up to Jamie?” she asked one eyebrow quirked in question.

“I told ye, a nighean I just want to kiss ye.”

He cupped her face, turning it toward him. His tongue slipped out to wet his lips. Slowly he lowered his face until their lips were a breath away. He placed a kiss so light it felt like the wings of a dove floating across her lips

“‘Tis pleasant?” he whispered into her mouth.

“Yes,” Claire replied breathily.

“Good. May I kiss ye again?”

“Mmhm.”

Brushing an errant curl away from her face, he tilted her head back seeking out her mouth like he did that morning. Still sweet from the honey and berries he ate for breakfast, he fitted his lips to her’s. Slowly he increased the pressure on Claire’s mouth molding them together creating delicious friction.

Jamie pulled away momentarily giving her a sinful grin. His eyes engulfed her, finally settling on her mouth. He felt like a man drowning and only her kiss and her breath could save him. Her mouth was his lifeline. Jamie lowered his head and began to rain kisses across her mouth lightly at first then deeply, possessively.

Jamie broke away, resting his forehead against hers. Tenderly he brushed his lips across her cheek, then to her ear to nibble at the shell. Finding her succulent earlobe, he drew it into his mouth caressing it suggesting things yet to come.

Claire dropped her head back whimpering, making an offering of her alabaster neck to him. She pulled at his hair, dragging him closer.

Jamie plied his attentions to the long column of her neck, nibbling, sucking her sensitive skin. Using his mouth he gently nudged her robe off her shoulders letting it drop off her shoulders, and slide down her arms pooling around her hands and bum.

Claire sucked in her lower lip gently biting it.

He grinned. Softly, he placed tiny kisses along her shoulder working his way down her arms until he reached her hand. He kissed her wrist, her palm. Raising her hand so she could see, he took each finger into his mouth and sucked each digit in its turn.

Claire began to shudder and breathe heavily by the time he finished with her thumb.

Jamie repeated his ministrations to the opposite hand, arm and shoulder. Dropping his head, he lowered his lips brushing them across her chest down to her breast. Finding her nipple he began to suckle one then the other making each one harden and pebble. He scraped his teeth gently against the tender nipple as it slipped from his mouth.

She became restless, shifting her body arching her back needing to come closer to him. Claire gasped at the sensations running through her.

“Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth; for your love is more delightful than wine,” Claire whispered.

“Quoting Scripture are ye?” Jamie smiled broadly knowing what he was doing to her.

His mouth and tongue trailed kisses down over her belly, slowly, languorously. “Beautiful, yer so beautiful mo nighean donn.”

“Jamie, I... I... ah...Oh, god.”

He chuckled, as he felt her melt with each kiss he pressed on her. She deserved every slow torturous one he would give her. After all, fair’s fair.

Jamie continued his downward trek, kissing the soft skin of her inner thigh, behind her knee, down to her toes. Using the opposite leg he began his ascent toward his ultimate goal.

“Jamie, please, I need...I want...more. Please, Jamie.”

“Do ye no’ like my kisses? Do ye want me tae stop?” he asked, giving her a soulful look. His voice was full of hurt and disappointment.

Leaning up on her elbows to look him in the face, “No, no. I mean I want more. Christ, I don’t know what I mean.” And she flopped back onto the pillows, biting her lip and began uttering odd throaty sounds.

He smiled smugly, “Then ye shall have it.”

Reaching her core, he blew softly over it causing Claire to buck.

“Hush now, Sassenach let me kiss ye.”

His mouth settled into its work, beginning to kiss her most intimately. Lightly at first then pressing deeper lavishing all his attention on her sensitive flesh.

Claire moaned and whined. Her hands tangled in his hair sliding down to cup his face. Close, she was so close. “Jesus H. Roooosevelt Chrissst,” she hissed.

And then he stopped and rose up to sit next to her. He was hard as stone but was determined to see this through. She needed to learn it wasn’t nice to manipulate someone especially someone who loves them. “What would ye like to do now, Sassenach? Watch a movie? We could read a book, perhaps? Maybe a nice brisk walk instead.”

“Whaaat? What do you mean what do I want to do? I want you to finish what you started,” she snarled with frustration.

“Oh, but I did, my own,” he said as he leaned over to kiss the crown of her head. I said I wanted tae kiss ye and I did. I also said I would leave ye with naught but yer cries for mercy. And I did that too.” A satisfied grin plastered over his face.

“Mac na galla,” she shouted at him as she picked up a pillow and swung it at him beating him ferociously wherever she could reach him.

He laughed at her use of Gàidhlig to swear at him while trying to deflect the blows of the murderous pillow.

“I surrender madam, I surrender, ” he laughed. She looked so fierce his wee Sassenach lassie. Eyes flashing, skin flushed with anger, all pink and rosy. She was glorious.

“That isn’t very nice of you, Jamie Fraser. To leave me all worked up wanting, needing…” He raised an eyebrow questioningly. “Now ye ken how I felt during the chess match.”

She looked abashed as she clutched the pillow to her chest. “Well, I wanted to win,” she muttered petulantly as she gave him a sidelong look. “I mean you were bragging about what a great chess champion you are, so I resorted to using my womanly wiles. I had to do something to even the playing field,” she retorted. Claire turned her head away as she picked at an imaginary loose thread on the pillow slip, “I shouldn’t have done that. It was very poor sportsmanlike behavior on my part,” she blushed. “But you set me up, Jamie Fraser. You didn’t tell me you were some great chess champion until after I agreed to the match. That wasn't fair either,” she glared at him.

“Aye, yer right, and I’m sorry for it. Forgive me, Claire?”

Her facial expression softened from annoyance to tenderness, “Yes, forgiven. Forgive me too?”

Jamie tipped her head up and looked into her eyes that reminded him of liquid honey fresh from the hive. “Forgiven, mo ghràdh.”

“We could have a re-match if you like.”

“I dinna think so, ye’ll cheat. Ye canna help it,” he glowered at her. “Let’s just leave it as a draw, hm?”

“You’re right about that,” Claire laughed. “I don’t like losing. A draw it is.”

“Come here mo chridhe, ” he beamed holding open his arms to her.

Claire eyed him suspiciously, “What are you planning to do?”

“I want tae kiss ye, ” he chuckled.

“Oh no, you don't. You're not going to get me all riled up again and not finish the job. I'm no fool you know.”

“Never thought ye were. I just thought we could start at the beginning and see where it takes us,” he proposed as he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Sound like a plan?”

Claire launched herself into his arms, ”Aye, that sounds wonderful.”

***************************************************************************************

CABG - Coronary Artery Bypass Grafting - Treatment used for blocked coronary arteries. Open heart surgery.

Mitral Valve Repair/Replacement is a treatment used to repair if possible the mitral valve. If it is not repairable, it is replaced either with a tissue valve made from the lining of a pig or cow’s heart or a metallic mechanical valve. It is possible for any heart valve to be repaired or replaced, not only the mitral.

Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth; for your love is more delightful than wine - Song of Songs 1:2 New International Version of the Holy Bible

#edinburgh to boston #Chapter 19 #the king's gambit #an arousing chess game #sandringham is the chief #vacation is almost over #back to work soon #mrs. bug #outlander fanfiction #My writing #Here Goes Nothing

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saiilorstars · 3 years

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Fandom: Sailor Moon (Crystal) – – [Rewrite of season 2, AU-ish in that there’s new OCs and the fusion of plots from the manga, crystal and the og series]

Pairings: Eventual OCxOC, Usagi x Mamoru

Taglist: @ocfairygodmother @anotherunreadblog @maaaaarveeeeel

{If you’d like to be added to this OC’s taglist, let me know!}

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Ch.2: Sailor Hemera

"Watch where you're going!" A seemingly enraged girl called after a boy who had bumped into her because he'd been too engulfed in a gray book. "Not even an answer!" the girl scowled but sighed after a moment.

There was a light pitter-patter near her and when the girl looked down she found a purple cat beside her. The stark golden crescent moon on the cat contrasted with her dark fur.

"Luna, remind me again why I'm the only one who got to remember Sailor Moon, the Sailor Scouts and Tuxedo Mask existed?" the girl asked, huffing as if she were still angry about it. Now, it became more of a mystery.

"Because you, Azula, are exceptionally different," Luna articulated with refined elegance.

The girl, Azula, shot the cat a look. "You're sticking to that because you still haven't figured it out, either, huh?"

"Eh," Luna gave a tilt of her head.

Azula shook her head and watched after her friend, or rather ex-friend, Mamoru, who didn't even notice her anymore. A month ago Sailor Moon, or Usagi, had made everyone forget that the Sailor Scouts had existed. No one remembered any attacks from the Dark Kingdom. The scouts themselves didn't remember they were Sailor Scouts reincarnated. Usagi Tsukino didn't remember she had been a princess in her previous life. No one remembered anything...except for Azula Keena.

Azula had been a close friend of the scouts because she had managed to find out their identities. She proved herself useful with her tech abilities and quickly became a strong asset for them despite not having powers like them. One year older than them had her situated in the same school as Mamoru Chiba, although she was a year younger than him. They were friends, had been, but now he didn't remember her. In fact, he didn't remember anyone, not even Usagi who had been his grand love from a previous life.

But despite everyone losing their memories, Luna, Artemis, and Azula remembered everything. The memory wipe was not efficient with Luna and Artemis but neither had an explanation as to why Azula remembered as well. Fact was she shouldn't have. It was impossible. Yet here they were. Since then, Azula tasked herself with making sure there were no more enemies to deal with since Sailor Moon and the Scouts were out of commission. But she also tasked herself to simply look after everyone even if they didn't notice it.

"I may not be one of their scouts but I think myself as a guardian," Azula said confidently as she and Luna walked down a street after school. "A silent guardian."

"Job's taken, I'm afraid," Luna said quietly but Azula still heard and gave the cat a curious look.

"Luna, exactly how many scouts are there? Usagi made it look like it was only her, Ami, Rei, Makoto and Minako. But I've always been curious if there were more."

"That information is not necessary right now," Luna replied calmly. "So there is no need to even talk about it."

"Hm," Azula smiled to herself and continued walking.

They came across the local arcade of the district and walked in. The teenage boy behind the counter gave her a wave. Motoki was always the type to greet you with a big, wide smile. "Azula, your father said he would be taking a business trip tonight so it's going to be just you and Keiko tonight."

Azula gave a small nod. "Thanks, I'm sure Keiko's gonna love the fact she gets to babysit her dear old step-sister tonight."

He laughed. "Keiko doesn't treat you bad."

"No, she doesn't, I just like teasing her." Azula turned her back and leaned against the counter.

Her father actually owned the arcade - which made it easier to sneak into and use the underneath grounds for their secret Moon base - and he was usually in and out of the house attending to it. Azula's parents had been divorced since she could remember and she had lived with her American mother in America until her passing. At seven years, Azula had been taken in by her father in Japan and was introduced to her step-sister, Keiko Keena. Keiko wasn't actually related to Azula but they didn't care. Both girls had been an only child within their original families and wanted to experience having sisters. And after Keiko's own mother had passed away, Azula's father grew to see Keiko as his own. The were a small, complex family but nonetheless a family.

"Not again!" a girl cried in despair when she lost at the Sailor V game. She dropped her head over the controls, her long blonde hair falling down.

Azula motioned Motoki to watch her school bag for a minute while she went to the crying girl. "Usagi? Let me guess, the computer won? Again?" She laughed.

Usagi Tsukino was no stranger to losing to automated computers. She raised her head for a minute and gave a nod. "It keeps beating me."

"You might wanna try 'beginner'," Azula teased, prompting Usagi to drop her head on the controls again.

"You should be nice to your best customer!" she heard Usagi's muffled voice a second later. Azula looked down at Luna, both amusingly shaking their heads at Usagi.

"C'mon, Usagi, don't you have homework you're going to forget about or something?"

Usagi jumped from her chair like a bed spring. "I HAVE MATH TO DO!"

"There it is," Azula's voice was barely heard beside Usagi's loud shout. The blonde girl scrambled a quick goodbye, not even noticing her own cat, and ran out." Hard to believe she was actually a refined, Moon princess in another life," Azula remarked afterwards. Luna groaned beside her.

After a couple of minutes Azula and Luna left the arcade and were subjected to a sudden heat in the air that hadn't been there earlier. Though it was strange, as it really wasn't time for heat anymore, neither made a comment about it. Instead, Azula opted for a lunch on her own. Luna wasn't surprised by it though since nearly every day, at the exact hour, Minako Aino, Makoto Kino and Mamoru Chiba all ate their lunches, separately, but there. Azula just liked watching them all, even if it was from afar. Fruits Parlor Crown was a nostalgic place.

"There is no rule that you cannot speak to any of them," Luna would say just before Azula walked into the restaurant.

"Usagi wanted to be normal and I'm trying to respect that. Everyone wanted to be normal. The only reason I talk to her is because you're with me and, well, kinda awkward," Azula sucked in a breath and greeted Motoki's younger sister, Unazuki, the waitress before finding an empty table.

Just like each day she would come in, Azula pretended to do her homework while she ate. This was the only times where she could more or less learn what went on with her friends without actually talking to them. She knew it was probably strange but she really didn't want to compromise their memories. She already carried the burden of remembering everything that happened and, while Luna and Artemis did keep up at the base, she felt like it was her responsibility to be on the look out for anything potentially dangerous. She was the person, after all, that remembered everything - that had to count for something right? She wasn't just like any ordinary person.

"What's...that…?" Unazuki's voice pulled Azula from her mathematics book. The young girl was pointing at the glass window where they all saw a black cloud literally floating.

Azula's eyes widened in alarm, and frankly fear. She got up from her chair and stared in bewilderment as the cloud floated past the cafe in broad daylight. Everyone else in the cafe were doing the same thing.

Luna rushed out the door without even warning Azula.

"Luna!" cried Azula before running out herself. Her red, flaming hair bopped as she hurried down the stairs to get to the street.

There was a loud scream down the street and it was of course due to the black puff of cloud. It had captured someone, apparently, and had everyone else around running away from it. Azula skidded to a halt and gasped at the sight. The black cloud, which now began to look more like a shadow, had entangled a young woman with black thunder that kept the woman still, but in pain.

"I need the Shadow Crystal!" the purple-black cloud demanded.

"It talks?" Azula was frazzled but Luna skipped that part and went on to the concern stage.

"Somebody's got to help her!"

Azula turned sideways to find Makoto a couple inches behind her. From further behind Azula spotted Minako and Mamoru apart from each other. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me…"

"We're going to have to call Usagi!" Luna warned Azula, but both knew that even if they did do that Usagi would not get there in time to save the poor woman.

The victim screamed as something was pulled right from her chest: a shining white crystal with freckles of gold.

"A white crystal!?" went the black shadow, obviously angry at the results. "You have wasted Senka's time, puny human!" the black thunder around the woman vanished and the woman dropped to the ground. The white crystal slowly lowered until it returned to the woman's body. "I shall try another one!" and the cloud suddenly moved in the direction of Azula.

"Luna I don't suppose you could grant me temporary powers…?" Azula took a step back.

"I'm afraid not…" and Luna truly lamented it. She was sure Azula would have made a fine Sailor Scout.

"Yeah…" Azula gulped.

"Halt!" went a new, feminine voice that froze the cloud for a moment. "You shall not go any further!"

Azula, and the others, followed the voice up to the top of a parked truck across the street. There stood a woman with long, straight brown hair and stark, golden eyes. She was dressed in a long-sleeved body suit tucked underneath a pleated, light brown skirt with golden hemlines and matching short, golden boots with light, brown laces. The top part of the body suit exposed her middle with light, brown thick strings running across. There was a golden jewel piece going around her forehead, reminding Azula of the tiaras the Sailor Scouts wore, only this one had a golden sphere at the center. It matched the golden sphere necklace around her neck.

While everyone stared in awe, Mamoru felt a sharp jab at the side of his head.

Young Prince Endymion had wandered from the castle and came across a lonely field of almost dry grass. It was strange because as far as he knew everything on Earth was full of life and cared for. Something was wrong.

He stepped over the long weeds and keenly looked around for anything more suspicious. Suddenly, he crashed into a wall - an invisible wall. He had to shake his head just to see if it had been his own illusion. He reached out and came across a wall, indeed, that rippled upon his touch.

"Halt," a female voice commanded.

Endymion turned to find a woman, similar in age to him at least by appearance. Long, straight, brown hair billowed in the wind that wasn't there a minute ago. Dressed in shades of gold and light brown, she held out a golden sword towards him.

"You must not pass," she warned. Endymion looked around just to make sure the woman was talking to him and not someone who perhaps followed him. His generals were no stranger to doing that. "Yes, prince, I am speaking to you," the woman read his thoughts and gave a small smile. "I know who you are, and I know you must be very confused but I cannot allow you to get any further."

"Who are you?" Endymion finally found his voice and began to demand. He knew every possible fighter in the Kingdom and he had never seen the woman before.

The woman lowered her weapon and got down on one knee. "I am Sailor Hemera, an honorary Shadow scout of light and day, protector of the barrier between the Earth Kingdom and the Shadow kingdom."

"The...Shadow kingdom…?"

Sailor Hemera's golden eyes raised up to the Prince. "The Shadow Kingdom led by Queen Nyx and her daughter, Princess Reign."

Could that be the same woman he just saw? And if so, why had he seen that vision all of a sudden? Mamoru wasn't sure, but he definitely wasn't leaving now.

"Step away from the nice girl or suffer the consequences," the mysterious woman ordered calmly of the shadow.

The shadow cackled. Apparently, the woman had been funny. "And just who do you think you are little girl?"

The woman, who seemed young in appearance, regarded the shadow with pure disdain. She somersaulted off the truck and landed gracefully on her feet. "An honorary Guardian of Shadow, I am the Sailor Scout of Day and Light! I am...Sailor Hemera!"

"A Sailor Scout!?" Azula nearly fell backwards. Luna too was gaping.

"You are from Shadow?" the cloud, Senka, suddenly grew interested.

"And you are from the Shadow Dominion, are you not?" Sailor Hemera raised her head. "I knew there was a reason why I was awakened. You want the Shadow Crystal, don't you?"

"I am Senka, created by the Trinity Guardians. I am the Queen of the Shadow Dominion and I will find my Shadow Crystal!"

"The Shadow Crystal was never yours!" Sailor Hemera reached to her forehead where the golden circle suddenly sprouted headband fabric, forming a clean, clear headband altogether around her head. "Glimmering boomerang attack!" she flung the tiara towards Senka.

"Watch out!" Makoto had yanked Azula backwards as the boomerang whipped in the area. Azula nearly fell back if Minako hadn't rushed up to help keep her steady.

The boomerang went right through Senka but she groaned like it had actually hurt her. Gold power swirled within her shadow form for a couple of seconds. "I am not strong yet!" Senka cried and vanished into thin air.

Sailor Hemera caught her golden boomerang and easily placed it back on her forehead.

"I-is she gone?" Azula asked just as Sailor Hemera turned to leave.

"Yes, but she wasn't defeated. Senka will return and look for the Shadow Crystal again."

"What is that? A-and who are you?"

"Sailor Hemera," Mamoru spoke before the woman could. Everyone turned to look at him but he was busy staring at Sailor Hemera herself. She seemed startled by his determination that it was her. No human should have that much recognition of her and yet here was this one…

"You should all be careful," Sailor Hemera warned deeply and made her getaway.

Makoto and Minako went to see how the victim was doing but Azula remained in her spot unable to do anything. She looked down at Luna who was just as concerned as she was, then they both glanced at Mamoru. He had remembered? No...that couldn't be it. But then why was he staring at the Sailor Scout the way he was?

#ocappreciation #sailor moon #sailor moon crystal #usagi tsukino #mamoru chiba #sailor moon fics #sailor moon imagines #sailor moon crystal fics #oc: azula keena #fic: reign from the shadows

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bucky-of-the-opera · 5 years

Text

Ice Cream Man

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: Robin helps Steve ask out one of his regular customers.

Warnings: fluff

Word Count: 1,700ish

“Look alive, Harrington. Your girl’s coming this way,” Robin said from the window in the back room of Scoops Ahoy.

“She’s not my girl,” Steve mumbled; his cheeks reddening.

“You’re right. You’d have to ask her out on an actual date first.”

“Can it, Buckley.” He said, annoyed.

You came to the Starcourt Mall quite a bit over the summer; usually with your friends when they weren’t busy, but sometimes you ventured in by yourself. During these particular occasions, you would always wind up at Scoops Ahoy. You usually went to see a certain brunet in a sailor suit, but the first time was due to curiosity and your overactive sweet tooth.

***

You were standing in line behind a young girl and her friends. The girl had sampled multiple flavors, and the guy serving her seemed rather annoyed. When she asked for another sample, he rolled his eyes and told her to choose a flavor or leave.

What a douche, you thought. You were about to say something just when the girl crossed her arms and gave him her order. A minute later, she had her ice cream and sat down at a nearby table with her friends.

You walked up to the counter as the employee introduced himself. “Ahoy there, I’m Steve. How can I help you today?” He seemed almost bored as he spoke.

“Well Steve,” you said, “I was wondering what exactly you have against little girls.”

Steve’s eyebrows shot up. He thought maybe he had misheard you. “Excuse me?”

“All that girl wanted to do was taste another flavor, and you thought it was okay to be rude and refuse her?” you asked.

“Of course not!” he said a little too loudly, grabbing the attention of his coworker from the back room and the young girl at her table. “You got it all wrong.” He spoke softer now, leaning closer to you. “She’s in here almost every day, and she always demands free samples of every flavor. I still give her some, but at a certain point I have to cut her off,” he says matter-of-factly.

Your cheeks blushed when you realized you had wrongly accused him of being a jerk. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

He smiled at you. “How could you? It’s fine, really. I would’ve assumed the same thing.”

Of course you had to go and berate the sweet guy who gives away too many free samples. You wished you could vanish into thin air to escape the embarrassing situation.

Steve could see how visibly uncomfortable you looked. “How about some free samples, on me?” Before you could answer, he had grabbed a bowl and loaded it with every flavor that was on display. “Whipped cream and cherry?” he asked. You hesitated a moment, before nodding. “Chocolate or rainbow sprinkles?” he added. He was still smiling at you as he waited for your response.

“Chocolate, please,” you finally answered.

When Steve handed you the bowl, you reached into your pocket to pay him. He saw the cash in your hand and shook his head. “I’m serious, it’s on the house this time.”

You put the money away and were about to thank him when the girl from before raised her voice from her table.

“Why does she get a whole bowl for free?! If I have to pay, she has to pay!”

Steve looked over at the girl. “Erica, I’ve given you plenty of free samples. Now sit down, and eat your ice cream before I call your mom.”

She looked like she wanted to say more, but she begrudgingly chose to stay quiet and resume talking with her friends.

You chuckled and thanked him for the complimentary ice cream. “I’ll see you around, Steve.”

“See you, um…”

“Y/N,” you answered.

“I’ll see you later, Y/N.”

You left the store right when Robin joined Steve at the counter. She grinned at him, knowingly. “You got it bad for her; don’t you, Harrington?”

Steve blushed. “Shut up.”

***

“Hi Steve,” you said when you reached the counter.

His eyes lit up when he saw you. “Hey Y/N. It’s been ages since I saw you last. How’ve you been?”

You saw him exactly two days ago when you came in to get ice cream with your friends. He and Robin made all of your orders, and he even gave you an additional scoop. After your initial exchange with Steve, he always gave you a little extra. And you weren’t complaining.

“I’m doing all right. I’ll be even better after some ice cream though,” you said.

He made you your usual order with your usual extra scoop and handed you your ice cream as Robin reappeared. She gave you and Steve a mischievous smile.

“Hi Y/N. That’s so weird that you’re here now; Steve and I were just talking about you!” Robin said.

Steve was shooting daggers at her with his eyes, but she was too amused with the situation to care.

“Don’t listen to her, Y/N. She’s a compulsive liar,” Steve said, still glaring at Robin.

She rolled her eyes at Steve before turning back to you. “Anyway, Steve and I were going to catch a movie after work. Would you wanna come with us?”

Steve’s eyes widened. He definitely did not make any such plans with Robin. What was she playing at?

“I’d love to!” you answered, almost immediately.

“Great!” Robin said. “Meet us back here at closing.”

After you said your goodbyes and left the store, Steve turned to Robin.

“What the hell was that?!”

“That, Steven, is how you ask a girl on a date.”

Steve pouted and crossed his arms. “What would you know about asking out girls,” he mumbled.

Robin blushed. “More than you, apparently,” she muttered, before pushing past Steve to help the next customer.

***

Later that night, you arrived back at Scoops Ahoy just as Steve and Robin had finished closing for the night.

“Okay children, are we ready to go?” Robin asked you and Steve.

“Who are you calling a child? I’m older and taller than you,” Steve retorted.

Robin shook her head. “You're so sensitive. Now come on, before we miss the movie,” she motioned for you and him to follow as you made your way into the hidden hallway.

When you reached the theater, the three of you grabbed seats in the back. Steve sat down in between you and Robin.

A few minutes later, Robin leaned over to whisper into Steve’s ear. “You got this, Harrington.”

He looked at her, confusion etched on his face. “Got what?”

Instead of responding, Robin gave him two thumbs up and then jumped out of her seat.

“Robin!” Steve whisper-shouted. She ignored him and kept walking until she was out the door.

Dammit, he thought. So this was her plan all along. He bounced his leg while thinking of what he should do, just as you leaned over to him.

“Where did Robin go?” you asked.

“She, uh, she had a family thing she forgot about.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.”

Steve bit his lip. “Do you want me to walk you to your car?”

“Actually, I’d rather stay here and watch the movie with you. If you’re okay with that, of course,” you added quickly.

Steve’s heartbeat sped up as he looked you in the eyes. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

You smiled back at him before turning your attention back to screen. As the movie played on, the two of you slowly inched your hands towards each other until your pinkies touched. Steve slid his hand on top of yours and laced his fingers through yours. He held your hand for a few more minutes until you leaned into him, prompting him to drape his arm around you.

At some point during the movie, you had laid your head on his shoulder, and it was still there when the movie ended. Steve thought you might have fallen asleep until you squeezed his hand.

“Did you like the movie?” he asked you.

“To be honest, I wasn’t really paying attention.”

He laid his head on top of yours. “That’s ok. I don’t even know what movie we were watching.”

You let out a laugh and pulled away to look at his face. He was smiling back at you as his gaze shifted between your eyes and yours lips. You both leaned forward until your lips touched. Steve kissed you slowly as he cupped your cheek. When you broke for air, you rested your forehead against his.

“Remind me to thank Robin for asking me out for you,” you said.

“Hey, I would’ve asked you out eventually.”

“Would you?” you asked. “Or would you just have given me free ice cream until the end of time?” you teased.

He traced the back of your hand with his finger. “Are you saying you want me stop giving you free ice cream?”

“You better not. I’ve grown accustomed to a certain kind of lifestyle.”

As you looked around, you noticed the theater was empty, excluding you two. “I guess we should head out.” Steve nodded and stood up. He held his hand out to you, which you took, and led you to the parking lot.

“This is me,” you said when you arrived at your car.

Steve spun you around so you were facing him, and he placed his hands on your waist. You slid your hands up his chest and wrapped your them around the back of his neck.

“So, I’ll see you tomorrow?” Steve asked.

“If there’s ice cream, I’ll be there.”

He chuckled. “I think that can be arranged.”

You twirled a few strands of his hair around your finger. “Plus, I get to see you in your sailor suit.”

“You actually think I look good in that thing?” he asked in disbelief.

“Have you seen yourself, Steve? You’d look good in a burlap sack.”

He grinned and pulled you flush against him, lowering his head. His lips found yours once more, and you smiled into the kiss.

When Steve finally opened your car door for you, you slid into the drivers seat and rolled down your window to call out to him. “See you tomorrow, sailor.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #robin buckley #stranger things #stranger things fic #steve harrington fic #stranger things season 3

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ofcloudsandstars · 4 years

Photo

This week was a wild Samhaintide ride. I’ll post more about it in the read more

Here's yet another selection of stories from my witchy life I am ready to dump on you all so get ready lol:

Wednesday night was the party at the occult shop Treadwells where we met a new witch friend who joined us for the Samhain festivities. I have already made a post about it here but her name is Letitia and she is a beautiful sapphic Taurean witch who loves gardening and cooking (duh she's a Taurus) and all the goddesses she worships and bought an incredible pumpkin pie to the ritual.

Halloween

So the day begun with me making candles for the ritual. I bought a skull candle, a candle the shape of a jackolantern and then I made several candles which were three mini pumpkins hollowed and filled with black wax that’s pumpkin and bourbon scented, then four tea light spell candles with black wax and four tea light spell candles with a special wax my sag witchy friend bought for me from Edinburgh from a witchy shop. The wax melt was made with herbs and was called 'thinning the veil'. I’ll elaborate later. I also had to walk to the post office to pick up the ouija board. I had a feeling I'd finally get my hands on it on Halloween. Its a very aesthetic round one and I was excited to use it.

We chose to gather in Queenswood in the north of London. It was already SUPER SPOOKY cause there was a murder nearby so all of the buses were being redirected lol. We gathered all in black with our witch hats and delved deep in the woods. It was so beautiful and the ground was completely coated in gold and red leaves so you couldn't even see the path. We found a clearing in the thick of the woods with an old tree that grew sideways so it made a semi circle. We made a HUGE circle that we drew in the earth with a dead stick and went over with dragonsblood incense and black salt.

We opened the space by lighting the pumpkin candles and begun with centering our energy. There were several parts to the ritual we planned, but first we begun with a 'putting it to rest' spell since autumn is the time to let things go and samhain is about death so it was like officially bringing things to an end. We wrote down what we wanted to end in our lives on a piece of paper (such as not seeing coworkers from a toxic job that someone was leaving or the retrograde made my friend run into her abusive father that she had binded from seeing her for YEARS so she wanted to put that situation to rest) and ignited it in my cauldron. When it burned down to ashes we chose a spot (under a goblin-like tree) outside of the circle to open the earth and bury it in. After we put it in it's grave we all said a few words of departure and said: rest in peace. lol.

In my case I wrote down names of these models that are obsessed with this Italian guy (who is the son of a huge fashion designer) who is in love with my sister. They are obsessed with him for his connections to the fashion world and that he is rich and are jealous of any 'hoes' he's currently into so they posted instagram stories on Halloween with them in witch hats taunting that they were going to curse him and all of his lovers or whatever in cutesy filters and my sister knows I practice witchcraft so she told me. So I binded and banished them and the next day they unfollowed her lol.

Anyway, afterwards we focused on what we should reflect on by pulling tarot cards for mercury retrograde in scorpio that was beginning on that day as it's going to be like two weeks of descending into our own underworlds. After we got a card we lit the black tealight candle as a road opening spell to manifest a helpful path with overcoming our retrograde's lessons.

Then I lit the skull candle and we had a moment to reflect on our ancestors and those that we loved that have been lost that year. We each shared stories then lit the white tea light candles with the wax that was for thinning the veil. When we lit it we thought about our loved ones or ancestors.

Finally we did a dance for thinning the veil. I had flying devil oil that was some fragrance oil I got from a hoodoo shop and we dressed ourselves with it and ran around the circle and chanted in the leaves. We then ate the pumpkin pie the lovely Taurean witch bought also some maple sugar fudge she bought (what a champ), and halloween candy. We used the Ouija board but it was really challenging. We thought maybe it was cause we needed to be less grounded so we put it away and cleaned up the ritual space and headed off.

The Taurean witch was going to head home to cook a feast, my French aries witch friend went to her friends she's staying at to have a party and my Sag witch friend went home to cook a dumb supper for her and her mom. I went back to my place to nap then get ready for the night. I met my Sag friend at a music venue to watch Honeyblood which is SUCH a witchy band. The performance really reminded me of some scooby doo hex girls shit. It was a lot of fun (until some grown ass men with no sense of self awareness took the mosh pit to mean something more of a Jailbreak riot and started throwing their whole 6ft man bodies everywhere despite not everyone being gladiator sized. It was really ridiculous but golden when Honeyblood sang "Glimmer" with lyrics like "she can put a hex on you" thats when this one guy in some sailor outfit shoved his body into us and we BOTH looked at him with such evil at the same time and he like.. stopped.. and like hastily moved to another part of the room..) If you don't know Honeyblood you should listen to them, they are such a babe witch band.

We then went to a bar nearby to get flaming shots of absinthe as its a personal tradition (also a way to 'cross the veil') and someone took candids of us at the bar! (I added the picture above), for some reason we really caught the attention of everyone though we just were in witch hats like EVERYONE was like: OOO WITCHES and like we even had some lady take pictures of us at the bar? Like ok it was cute I guess. My friend was drunk then so every time someone was like: oo a Witch! She'd holler back YASS BITCH 365 24/7!!!! Like o' dear.

Final part to the night was the house party my Aries witch friend (she's the one who's apartment I almost burned down once when I was making spell candles). It was a place around the corner from mine with a host who was HIGH OFF HER FACE on drugs. There was the counter of alcohol that kept us going all night, we had a lot of mingling with everyone there then when it started to get a little less wild we claimed an empty bedroom and tried the ouija board again since we were definitely less grounded than in the forest. Unfortunately the results were still a bit weak but we got a little bit of consistency with movement. There was some guy there that seemed interested but as time went on it turned out he was more interested in me than the board. I am a touched starved human being and he was playing with my hair and I was drunk so I did not care then after we ended up kissing while my other witchy friends and some new comers were chatting about the dead. My Aries witch friend lives on the other side of the city so she asked if they could stay at mine and I was like yea plus it was like 4AM at this point and this guy was getting very handsy like I just wanted my hair to be played with so I was like ok nice meeting you I gotta go. And He was like oh no please come say one last goodbye. I was too drunk to realize that he was in the bathroom and he closed to door to make out with me and I was like this is nice you do have nice flowy long hair that covers your big shiny forehead that I am now noticing in this bright fluorescent lighting but I gotta go. And he's like: No I wanna take you home I wanted to the moment I saw you. And he WHIPS OUT HIS DICK AND SAYS: this is for you. I am DYING like honestly I found it hilarious, I was so drunk I like forgot that there were other people on the other side of the door so I barge out of the bathroom like: WE ARE GOING HOME and my witchy friends saw his dick and were howling with laughter and that 10 minute walk home they would NOT LET ME BE IN PEACE about it.

Samhain Day

Anyway my friends stay over and in the morning I make tea and a light breakfast since we are hung over and we watch The Worst Witch 1980s Halloween special where we fucking Howl at laughter at everything especially Tim Curry flying around in that Cape. The rest of the day is really quiet since most of it is me sleeping trying to recover from the day before.

At 4 PM I call my relatives to say I love them and stuff cause I felt like my closest relatives on the other side of the veil wanted that. I made a feast for myself which consisted of Mashed sweet potato, a salad of chopped royal gala apples, carrots and beetroots and duck sauteed in maple syrup and bourbon. It may sound sweet but the bourbon balanced it out and duck tastes a bit sweet so it blended well with the maple flavor. After I had sticky toffee pudding for dessert. I made a plate for my ancestors and then got ready for fireworks with my other witchy friend who is the sound healer at Alexandra Palace.

I nearly missed the MASSIVE fire effigy burning cause the commute there was a NIGHTMARE since everything was still being redirected. (Thanks mercury retrograde). The fireworks were incredible though. There were so many it was like being bombarded with fiery psychedelics. My friend still wanted to show off her sexy angel outfit for Halloween so I asked if she wanted to hang out with us tomorrow night to party.

Saturday Night

She came over like at 4 and we got ready. She looked a bit like the angel from the remake of Romeo and Juliette with Leonardo decaprio but in lingerie with a long white lace robe. I dressed as a poltergeist though I don't think it came off that way but I had a sheer black dress on with a skeleton body suit, a glow in the dark wig and pale tulle. I just wanted to be a spooky ghost. We had to sneak into a members club that I work at cause I am NOT allowed to be there and I was terrified of them finding out so it felt like Danger Partying. They had a day of the dead party so I blended in but I felt like some staff that recognized me were like staring at me all night. We still had fun and spoke about our Samhain experiences. My friend is also a medium so she gave me some ouija tips so hopefully that can help me in the future.

Sunday Morning

I went to a workshop in the food forest about fire starting!! It was beautiful and magical and the forest was in full autumn mode. I learned how to chop wood with different axes and carve wood and start fires with either two pieces of wood (which is extremely hard on your own like you better be in the dryest place possible and you better have a bow), and how to start fire with flint/magnesium which is 1000% easier would highly recommend. There's so much magic in nature and so much magic in those workshops. We learned which trees were best for firewood and which were toxic and how to use bark or forage for fire starter materials. I am getting more drawn to fire as an element to work with in magic so I loved learning the techniques and also that you can start fires with the back of a knife (the teacher had a specific wood carving knife that was thick) so its like if you get a specific Athame which is ruled by fire you could also use it to start fires too if you got a fire steel key. (It's a rod of magnesium and you'd strike it with the back of the knife hard and fast and sparks will shoot out like fireworks).

Anyway that was my week so far!! It was so much fun and adventurous I couldn't have asked for a better experience. I have today off so I had a moment to reflect and get myself together for work tomorrow but afterwork I am celebrating Bonfire night with my sag witch friend at Victoria park so I am excited to take part in that!

I hope you all had a great Samhain!

#halloween #personal #samhain #celebrations #I wish like every sabbat was this eventful #some parts could have been a movie #Some parts I wish I was more in the moment for but it was also a bit emotional with the retrograde

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parabellum-rpg-archive · 5 years

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Congratulations, Joss! You’ve been accepted to play Jackson Sinclair. Please make your page and send it in within 24 hours.

Admin Note: Your writing was so fun to read, but when I got to the part about Jack and his nieces/nephews I WAS READY TO SOB. (ALSO HIS CATS, IM GOING TO LITERALLY DIE) Thank you for applying and we very much look forward to writing with you! -Admin J

CHARACTER DESIRED

Jackson Sinclair

DESCRIBE THE CHARACTER IN YOUR OWN WORDS

Jackson is a good guy, which is odd, considering his line of business. His moral compass is perhaps slightly skewed, but he definitely has a code. Don’t hurt women or children, don’t enjoy violence, stay away from drugs, humiliation and cruelty aren’t good motivators, peace is better than war. He might have lived a totally normal life and just been that nice guy on your block who’d fix your car for free if you watched his kids once in a while if he’d been dealt different cards. As it is, he’s a large man with a lot of tattoos, an intimidating presence, and a scary voice, and that means most of the time, he doesn’t have to do anything to maintain the peace. And that’s really how he views his job. Sure, he’s the guy you go to when violence must occur, but perhaps because of his reticence, he’s managed to develop a good reputation. He’ll talk shit out first, and if he decides bad things have to happen, well, you must have done something really wrong. If Jack really doesn’t like you, you might as well just leave, because everyone else will assume you must be pretty fucked up. He’ll still fix your car for free, though the return favour might be something a lot more illegal than babysitting. Of course, given the Sinclair family, it could just be babysitting one of his nieces, aka making sure Paityn doesn’t die and Paisley doesn’t lose her shit on someone. He loves his nieces and nephews, they’re the closest thing he has to kids himself, and his home is always available for anyone who needs to crash there, no questions asked. Despite having a fairly safe and law-abiding youth, he’s surprisingly non-judgmental about what they get up to, as long as they’re not hurting anyone. Paityn is his baby and he frets about her constantly, Priya is the only niece he trusts with anything really important, Paisley reminds him of Piper and thus he’s easily won over by her, Sebastian reminds him of himself and he’s quietly encouraging and supportive, and Shiloh is … well, Shiloh, but Jack will follow that boy to Hell just to drag him out if necessary. The subject of Piper Moreau is forever closed as far as he’s concerned. If Morgan brings it up, he’ll pretend he’s over it, but anyone else better shut the fuck up or they’ll find out what the little-seen but much-feared Jackson Sinclair temper looks like.

WRITING SAMPLE

The day was muggy and overcast, which suited Jack’s mood. He needed to take a jog or something, but getting out of bed felt like too much work. The other side of the bed (he still couldn’t sleep in the middle even now) was empty, but he reached over to it anyway. There was no warm spot left, because no one was there, or had been there for quite some time, but he liked to pretend when it was still too early for him to register the ugly truth. Fuck, he was a drama queen. Never could get over the women who left him. His therapist would probably chalk it up to the abandonment of his mother, but Jack distrusted anything that blamed her when she’d only been doing her best. He still went to every session, and tried to talk things out, because walking around with unresolved shit was just a way to take it out on the wrong person, but part of him balked at the whole process. Irish macho bullshit, of course, but hey, hard to shake your roots, right? At least he wasn’t a drunk, or worse, though he never looked down on anyone who was. Well, guys who ditched their families to fuck around and bitch about their problems, yes (thinking of Kieran O'Connell, he made a mental note to have a word with him), but otherwise, he had a lot of sympathy. Life was hard, and not everyone got to grow up loved and cared for like he had. If you didn’t learn coping mechanisms, you just took the first thing that made life easier, and then that became your coping mechanism. Christ, if anyone heard his thoughts, they’d call him a pussy. It was hard being self-aware surrounded by the Irish. Even Freud said they were immune to therapy.

Dragging himself out of bed, he grabbed a pack of cigarettes and lit it by habit, not even fully conscious, or maybe still in that state between being awake and asleep when your mind is awake but your body isn’t. Or vice versa, who the fuck knew anyway. He should ask someone smarter than him about that. Those thoughts immediately led to Piper, but he shoved them extremely deep down, where they couldn’t touch him except in his dreams. The fucked up shit was even in his dreams, she treated him like shit, and he still didn’t want to wake up. More things to talk about with Dr. Brown. Cigarette clenched between his teeth, Jack padded around the apartment, noting idly that Paityn was sleeping on his couch again. He kept telling her to just use the guest room, but he supposed she liked it better in here. Stroking her hair gently, he tucked her in better and carefully adjusted her pillows so her neck wouldn’t hurt. In being so careful, he almost missed Shiloh on the floor, curled around a series of pillows, which made him grin and go looking for another blanket. The Sinclair siblings were a close-knit crew, often travelling in pairs or packs when danger lurked. Even if the only danger came from inside the mind of the baby of the family. Looked like he was skipping his jog and making waffles instead. Oh well. He was past forty, jogging was hardly gonna change that he wasn’t 25 anymore.

The kitchen was pristine, though that was more thanks to his cleaning lady than Jack himself. Still, he moved around in it with more confidence than any of the guys he was in charge of, who all seemed to live off of take out and food that only required a microwave. They hadn’t had Evelyn for a mother, or his grandparents, who’d all taught him that kitchens were fun, and food tasted better when you cooked it yourself and it had real ingredients in it. He tiptoed around the place, starting coffee and getting the ingredients for the waffles together without making anything more than a whisper of sound. He looked like the kind of man who stomped everywhere, but Jack had never cared for loud men. He found being silent had as much of an effect, and he didn’t like to startle people. Well, unless he had to, but that was work. In life, he preferred to walk softly and leave the big stick at home. There was a chorus of mews, and he looked down at Bedknob and Broomstick, the two alley cats that considered his apartment at least one of their bases of operations. He dragged them to the vet and bought them soft cat beds and even braved washing them when they got into something foul, but they were almost contrarily wild, in spite of all his efforts. He adored them anyway, and poured out the fanciest cat food they were willing to eat into two dishes while assuring them quietly that they were both garbage monsters. His fondness for stray animals was one of those things that Morgan was allowed to joke about, because he was Morgan and they were brothers before anything else, and no one else was allowed to mention. One of his guys had taken a pot shot at a stray dog once. Everyone still talked about that day, though not in Jack’s hearing.

The waffles were sizzling in the iron and the coffee was percolating in the elegant machine that Penny had bought him for his last birthday when he heard stirring from the other room. Paityn hovered in the doorway, always unsure in any space regardless of how many times Jack made her welcome. Scooping up Bedknob, the more cuddly of the two, Jack came over and kissed the top of her head, handing off the cat and nudging her back towards the couch. “Breakfast’ll be up in a bit, Scout. Go'n wake up that degenerate brother of yours. Tell'em he ain’t a dog, he can sleep on the furniture if he wants to.” He’d introduced his nieces, and Shiloh, to Sailor Moon, and had willingly watched the seemingly endless episodes with them when they were children, and they’d been the Sailor Scouts to him ever since, though Paityn was the only one who still allowed the nickname. He’d been the one to take them to their first R movie, and taken them all out for rides on his motorcycle, their little arms clutching his sides so tight it hurt, though he’d have rather eaten his tongue than told them to stop. He’d been the one they called or texted when they were too shitfaced to remember how to get home, or were at a party that had gotten a little too weird, or had made the kind of youthful mistakes that seemed world-ending and could never be confessed to their parents. Grabbing up a plate of waffles, he headed into the living room, telling Shiloh to get his ass off the floor, was he raised in a barn, all while handing the boy a mug of coffee just the way his nephew took it. From the outside, his life might appear lonely, but Jack had family, and that was all that mattered. And who knew, maybe he’d finally talk Shiloh into coming for a jog with him. Stranger things had happened.

#accepted

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prairiesongserial · 5 years

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5.9

Marc’s meeting with the heads of Las Realezas was in a different town outside of Retazo, and closer to the Texan border. It was probably neutral ground for both parties involved, though Marc hadn’t exactly said so. Cody wondered exactly how many times Marc had pulled off something like this water heist before, and how many gangs had stopped working with him because of it. Probably a lot of them, if he’d stopped dealing with the Texan gangs and was moving on to Mexico. But there was no way to know that for sure.

The truck rattled down a long driveway made of gravel, eventually coming to a stop outside of a large house with a shaded patio that wrapped around the entire ground floor. Nash parked, hopped out of the car to ensure that the tarp he’d tied over the bed was still in place, and gestured for Cody, John and Sailor to get out and follow him.

“Do we all have to go?” Cody asked, jumping out and offering his hand to John and Sailor to help them down to the ground.

“I mean, I’m stayin’ here to watch the truck and keep it runnin’,” Nash said, with an easy shrug. “Marc should be around back, from what he said. I imagine there’s guards, but tell them you’re his men and you’re here to pick him up.”

Sailor looked like she wanted to say something, but made a small noise of discontent instead. Her clothes were splashed with blood - Cody’s were too, he noticed, glancing down at himself. They could probably explain it away. He hoped they could, at any rate. John looked clean, at least, if a little lumpy - he had struggled back into his white suit in the backseat, the Realezas uniform crumpled underneath.

Nash got back in the truck, and made a shooing motion with his hands, dismissing them. Cody took the hint and started moving, hopping up the stairs to the patio and heading around the side of the house. A couple of guards were there, lounging at a table and playing cards. One had a cigarette in the corner of her mouth, and glanced up as Cody rounded the corner, followed shortly thereafter by John and Sailor.

“Hey,” she said, not bothering to put down her hand of cards. She had dark skin, and her hair was tied back in a businesslike ponytail that reminded Cody of his sister Miriam. “You Waters’s men?”

“Yeah,” Cody said, since John and Sailor didn’t seem especially keen on answering. “We’re here to pick him up.”

The guard tore her attention fully away from her hand of cards, looking the three of them up and down. Eventually, she looked back towards Cody, raising an eyebrow.

“You get into trouble on the way here?”

“Muties,” Sailor said bluntly. “They’ve been edging into our territory lately.”

“That’s a shame,” the guard replied.

“Probably doesn’t help that your suits make you stick out like sore thumbs,” her companion said, glancing over their shoulder at the group for the first time.

“It really doesn’t,” Sailor agreed, scowling.

“Well, you can go on back,” the guard with the cigarette said, after giving them all another once-over. She didn’t seem to mind that Cody, at least, had brought his pistol with him, still holstered to his hip. Cody wondered if that was a sign that negotiations had gone well. “They should be about done, anyway. If they’re not, you’re welcome to come back here, and we’ll deal you in.”

She gestured to the cards, but Cody shook his head.

“No thanks,” he said, trying not to seem like he was brushing her off. He just felt like he and John had done enough gambling for one lifetime.

The guard shrugged. “Well, suit yourself.”

Sailor took the lead the rest of the way to the back patio, shouldering gently ahead of John and Cody. Marc was indeed there, sitting and chatting with an older man who was doing his best to look interested while Marc took dainty sips of some drink that Cody suspected was alcoholic. Gangs liked to drink over deals. Cody had learned that from helping Miriam run her bar on busy nights.

“Marc,” Sailor said, stopping short by the corner of the house. Presumably to make sure they weren’t walking into a trap, and could get away quickly if they needed to. She seemed antsy, and Cody didn’t blame her. All they needed to do was collect Marc and leave, but that could prove to be the most dangerous part of this whole operation. Since Cody had met him that morning, Marc had done nothing but prove himself to be a volatile element.

“Sailor!” Marc said, looking surprised and delighted all at once. “Your timing is perfect, mon chou, we’re just about finished. How was the drive?”

“Ran into some muties,” Sailor said, gesturing to herself. “They’re dealt with.”

“Good, good.” Marc nodded along to her explanation, apparently pleased with it. He extended his hand to the boss of Las Realezas and spoke haltingly in Spanish, telling the man how very much he looked forward to working together, and that he made a very strong rum rangoon.

“And now, you’ll have to excuse me,” Marc said as he drifted toward Sailor. “Encantado de conocerlos a todos, really I am.”

He took Sailor by the arm and waved exaggeratedly at every Realeza they past. At one point he stumbled and nearly knocked Sailor over, giggling madly. Cody caught a couple of Las Realezas on the verge of laughter, and was certain that as soon as Marc was gone they would begin making fun of him in earnest.

It was a smart move, getting Marc drunk. Las Realezas probably thought they would be able to catch him in one of his schemes as long as they got him drunk enough. Cody hoped to God he had kept it together until now.

Cody, John, Sailor, and Marc made it back around the porch again, passing the same guards playing cards.

“Ooh, ace,” Marc mumbled, eyeing their hands.

“Marc - ” Sailor growled.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” the guard who reminded Cody of Miriam said in Spanish, rising from her chair. Cody grabbed Marc’s other arm and pulled him faster, nearly launching him down the steps. All they had to do was cross ten feet before they were safe in the truck.

Sailor took the front seat, and John and Cody were just opening the side doors when Cody saw, to his horror, that Marc had flung up the tarp covering the stolen water in the truck bed.

“C’est magnifique!” he exclaimed.

There were shouts from the front porch. Cody had a good three seconds before somebody got shot. He flung himself at Marc, pushing him the rest of the way into the truck bed as Nash took off with a screech of the tires. Cody’s door was still hanging open, Cody himself clinging onto the side of the truck, his boots barely balanced over one of the wheels.

Nash hung a sharp left and Cody’s open door flung out, taking a handful of bullets for him.

“Marc!” Sailor hollered from the front seat. “You’re fucking kidding me with this shit.”

She hung halfway out her window, shotgun aimed behind them. She fired a couple of shots, and Cody heard swearing. Sailor ducked back into the cab to reload.

Marc, meanwhile, seemed to be having a wonderful time. He lounged back against his giant barrels of water, and shot Cody a shit-eating grin.

“Come on in, Mr. Allison!” he sing-songed. “The water’s fine.”

Las Realezas had cars in pursuit now, tumbling down the road behind them much faster without the burden of hundreds of pounds of water. Shots peppered the back of the truck, and Cody quickly scrambled over the lip and into the truck bed with Marc.

“Why did you do this?” Cody shouted at him, readying his pistol - not that it would do him a lot of good until the cars caught up.

“Ahh...mon amie...I am drunk,” said Marc. He lay flat on his back, the truck jerking him this way and that. But Marc looked perfectly at peace.

5.8 || 5.10

#story

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isroselalondebisexual · 6 years

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You're probably getting tired of doing kidswap analysis, but I just really wanna know how you think these ones would work: Rose Strider (swapped with Dirk), Dave Lalonde (swappes with Roxy), Jade Crocker, and John English?

So Rose Strider, growing up entirely alone in a very enclosed space, observing her Bro (for the sake of my sanity, we’re gonna say it’s Dirk who grew up kinda weird but generally okay) from a distance of many years. Extended isolation probably means touch is something she simultaneously craves but has NO IDEA what to do with. She observes her friends and reads over her own conversations with them a million times, overanalyzing everything partly because she’s very smart, and partly because she has nothing else to do, and partly because she has no idea how regular human beings interact because she isn’t one. Goes out swimming a lot, isn’t really mechanically minded so she doesn’t end up with Dirk’s hoverboard or anything but she’d actually probably end up a REALLY good sailor. Knows the winds, knows the waves, goes out sailing and fishing and pretends she’s a protagonist in one of Ernest Hemmingway’s novels, like The Old Man and the Sea or something. Probably hates the taste of orange soda and orange Gatorade. Thinks it’s her Bro trying to pull some kind of game with her. He was a weird dude. There’s definitely meaning here. Is the Gatorade a passive aggressive reminder to stay hydrated? Is all the soda meant to remind her that salt water is undrinkable and she must consume this processed, sugary, water-shit in order to survive? Oh, he got her good. At the same time, she probably looks up to him a lot, even if she would rather pry her own teeth out than admit it. She’s really good at sewing and knitting, and has a bunch of plush replicas of his famous smuppet empire. She sleeps holding onto an orange one she crocheted. She’s stuck isolated with only her waterproof computer and a couple robots her Bro left behind as “caretakers,” but they don’t really have any soul in them, not that she can see. So she rabidly learns everything she can. She reads wikipedia for fun, has a million tabs open at all times, learning has never lost its magic and sometimes she wonders if that’s really all she can even do. Definitely has attachment issues, where sometimes she’s cold and callous and goes long spans of time when her friends don’t see hide nor hair of her, and other times suddenly they can’t get her out of their personal space. No idea how to relate to human beings. Awake on her moon beforehand, she’s communed with the horrorterrors a bit, and has used that to her advantage as a Seer. As Seer of Heart, she knows a lot about her friends! She can see their souls in plain, she knows she’s loved, and she knows they’re all friends, and she is good at picking up on their emotions and moods. But what does she DO with that information????? John is distressed so… pat his back??? Give him chocolate??? When Dave is humored should she laugh??? Is she even in on the joke??? What does Jade need when she’s angry??? Should Rose just listen??? Give words of comfort??? Help her calm down??? Socializing is so HARD! She has all this information but doesn’t know what to DO with it! Her quest, much like Dirk, is to figure out how to be, like, a human being who can relate to others in a productive and empathetic manner.

Dave, raised in isolation, growing up adoring his mom from many years distance, with a cat-cloning machine and a bunch of chess pieces for company. He, at least, understands the basics of the social exchange. The chess dudes aren’t the BRIGHTEST, and they don’t really operate with human social norms, and they’re always hungry, and sometimes they try to eat his cats (Dave is cat dad now, those are his babies), but he likes them, they’re his buddies. Pumpkin potlucks with pumpkins imported directly from John’s island are probably pretty common? Is Dave sick of the taste of pumpkin? Probably. Does he absolutely want to have those potlucks anyway? You bet your ass he does. He’s friends with them, for all they seem to worship him as some sort of god. He probably thinks they’re all really great and adores them in a capacity similar to how he loves the Mayor. Getting to meet his friends face to face is probably something that is simultaneously the best thing in his life, and absolutely terrifying. Holy shit, those are other human beings. Dave doesn’t know how to human. He tries desperately to human, and he tries to model himself after his mom (it doesn’t end up too well), but holy shit he is a novice in the art of humaning Rose. Rose what should he do. Rose. Knight of Void, his job is to protect them from the unforseen and covert. )(IC and the Dersian agents are gonna have a harder time with Dave on the scene, and while he cannot perform Roxy’s role of leading their session, he can damn well keep it safe.

Jade Crocker, raised by Dad Crocker, in a society much like ours but slightly more advanced and as heiress to a baking empire. Probably a culinary scientist of some sort, since her whole life baking and cooking and stuff has been a thing, but she’s still, at her heart, innovative and scientific. Probably knows the nutritional properties of a tomato and lots of weird food history fun facts. An actual goddess with mettle to be meddled with and an optimistic attitude that cannot be kept down. Crockpop of course supports his daughter and is so proud of her, encourages her to pursue all her goals, and watch out for assassination attempts. Good reflexes. Definitely a dog person. The kind of girl who will make those “A cat came into my house, teleported me across town when it was raining, and left me there to call my dad to come pick me up while I stood in an abandoned field for half an hour because he plugged the wrong address into his gps” posts. Nobody really takes them seriously but since she lives with GCat meddling in her life they’re actually true. That damn cat has caused her TOO MANY PROBLEMS. If you have a cat she wants NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU. Probably unironically reblogged that post about the “I’m a lesbian and I hate cats” article and insists that dogs are the only way to go. Does own a rifle in this verse, but Crockpop is VERY meticulous about gun safety and proper usage and handling and some of their father-daughter bonding time is the two of them out on the shooting range together. She’s a real sharp shot. Witch of Life, she’s a powerful healer and can revive folk, but more than that, she can FUCKING TAKE YOURS FROM YOU IF YOU CROSS HER. Like Feferi, her powers are pretty vast in what she’s capable of doing, and she doesn’t have a lot of restraints on them, so the last place you wanna be is on her bad side. She can give you life and she can take it away, bitch. Also… so this is entirely inspired by that one Overwatch character, but please imagine Jade alchemizing a rifle where the bullets are her Life magic and she just. Shoots you better. My badass daughter oh my god I love her so much.

John English would likely end up a lot like John Harley, just without the nifty chess people or magic dog and with some cool monsters plus the death of his grandma. Depression sets in early, socializing is hard, getting out of bed is hard, feeling excited or adventurous is fucking hard, even though he wants to. He wants to feel happy and good and excited, he craves that, but it’s hard. He wants to be goofy and have fun but it’s all so exhausting but talking to his friends usually makes that aching tiredness inside him alleviate for a little while. He’s not suited to isolation. As Heir of Hope, he would start out thinking that the Game got his classpect wrong. He’s not hopeful. He doesn’t embody anything remotely approximating hopefulness. But the point of the Game is that he must become hopeful, he must unfurl his wings and take to brighter skies, brighter times, build his relationships now that he can see his friends, love them fully with his whole heart, not at a distance but present and real. His story would not be the story of a plucky go-getter adventurer, but as a broken boy learning how to Hope for the first time. It is a story of overcoming, of victory, and of the desperate pursuit of forward motion, of learning how to look forward to the future and see good things in it, of finding happiness and goodness in a life of possibilities, even when faced with adversaries.

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magic5ball · 4 years

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Nature Trail to Hell Arc II: Watt Outta Hell (8)

Chapter 8: A Dik-Dik Screws us Over

If there’s one thing you need to know about the WEEB life, it’s that it doesn’t last.

The day things came tumbling down, F-Bomb and I were just sittin’ in front of the T.V. watching reruns of F-Bomb’s personal favorite series, Sailor Moon high on WEEB (we were using F-Bomb’s favorite method: eating it straight from a bowl covered in milk). As for Sailor Moon (F-Bomb’s pillow, that is), she was sitting propped up on the bed so she could look at the T.V., too. Of course, F-Bomb had insisted that he didn’t like Sailor Moon that much and was only doing it for his girl’s sake, but I dunno. I’d get embarrassed watching myself get beat up and bailed out last minute by a hot guy in a suit for the hundredth time.

Now, when we did these things, I should remind the audience we always watched with subtitles. The first reason was it delivered a more authentic experience that wasn’t dumbed down by an idiot who wouldn’t know a donut from a rice ball if either got lodged in his throat. The second reason was F-Bomb would always, always, always start ranting about his personal problems to Sailor Moon and me. And on that particular day, the topic was how everyone was being an ungrateful jerk to Sailor mini-Moon.

“Like, everyone says ‘Oh, she’s so annoying! Oh, she’s so mean!’ But I know the real reason they all hate her: it’s ‘cause she’s short! She’s small, and clueless, and scared, so they think they can pick on her!”

At times like this, Moon and I would just focus on the screen and roll our eyes. Maybe add in an “Uh-huh.” To look like we were listening. Frankly, I just liked Sailor Mini Moon ‘cause she was cute, but F-Bomb? He always, and I mean always had to go into a five paragraph essay about this stuff.

“And maybe if those noobs were paying attention, they’d realize that she might just be lonely ‘cause she’s been sent back in time with a bunch of weirdos she barely knows, struggling to find her place in the world, while they keep putting her down just ‘cause she’s a kid!”

There was an awkward silence in the room as F-Bomb took several seconds of deep breaths.

“Anyways, what do you think, Moon?”

Silence.

“Moon!?”

Again, nothing. And not just Moon’s usual silence, either. This was deep silence. The kind that eats up all the noise in a room.

F-Bomb paused the DVD and we turned around. Sailor Moon was gone.

For the first time, I saw F-Bomb on the verge of tears. His whole body trembled with shock.

“OhPorecelainGodOhPorecelainGodOhPorecelainGodOhPorecelainGod…”

Thinking fast, I brightened the dim lights. The good news was we found her, resting on her side in a corner of the room. The bad news was she was trapped in the diabolically adorable hooves of none other than Weena.

F-Bomb slowly pulled his machine gun out from under the bed; pointed it directly at Weena. “PUT. MY GIRL. THE FORK. DOWN.”

Weena, not giving a crap, used her hind leg to scratch behind her ear. It was the most adorable freakin’ thing I’d ever laid eyes on. But like most adorable things in the underworld, Weena had a dark side. Mere seconds later the furry abomination was ripping the corner of Sailor Moon with her tiny widdle teeth, pulling out the soft clouds of cotton that made up Moon’s life force. It took all my strength not to hurl. F-Bomb wasn’t as lucky. Before he could pull the trigger on his gun, he was coughing his WEEB up all over the floor, leaving a sickly rainbow puddle at his feet. If anybody was going to fix this mess, it would have to be me. Granted, my mind was whirring a million miles a minute, mostly through stupid anime references, but gosh darn it, I had to do something before Sailor Moon became Weena’s latest chew toy. My legs began trembling, like they usually do when I’m nervous. I reached for my machine gun- only for my eyes make contact with Weena’s. The moment I stared into those, dark, sunken, adorable orbs I found myself unable to pull the trigger. My eyes darted, searching for something slightly less lethal. This turned out to be a very shiny rock resting on F-Bomb’s bookshelf with all his anime figurines. Grabbing it, I flung it near Weena, just enough to scare her away. Yet somehow, someway, I hit my mark square on the leg, leaving a thin red line running down it. At first I cheered, having finally done something right. Then the cheering stopped as I remembered that whenever I thought I did anything right, it usually meant I did something horribly wrong. And who better to affirm my crippling doubts that recently awakened F-Bomb!

“Y-you forkin’ idiot…” he grumbled. “What have you done?!”

Despite Weena’s wound looking like nothing worse than a paper cut (though to be fair, I once spent an entire day in the school nurse’s office because of one) she really put on a show. She’d dramatically dragged her body away from Sailor Moon, leaving only the faintest trail of blood behind, finally resting with her legs in the air and her tongue rolling out of her mouth. My triumph was now ice cold dread. I’d killed Weena! The spirit that kept the entire gang alive! The closest thing the boss had to a girlfriend! If A-Hole found out about this, getting caught smoking WEEB would be the least of my worries. But there was one thing I could do. Swallowing my last shred of pride, I prepared to deliver the breath of life to Weena’s lips. Only for F-Bomb to grab my ankle.

“Oh, for fork’s sake, ya moron. Weena ain’t dead!”

“She’s not?!” Relief shot through me as I realized my first kiss might not have to be a Dik-Dik after all.

“For starters, you barely scratched the girl. Second, and listen close, this is real important.” I leaned in close, eager to hear what wisdom my friend had to dispense. “WE’RE IN HELL, YOU FORKIN’ MORON! WE JUST REGENERATE WHEN WE DIE! HOW DO YOU NOT REMEMBER THIS?!” Several deep breaths later, he continued, his mind slowly sobering up from the WEEB. “A-and to top it all of, of all the weapons on my shelf, you had to use my mint-condition, authentic CashMoney Stone! Do you know what forkin’ happens to anyone hit by that thing?!”

“Uh… something?” Specifically, Weena had dropped her façade and now faced us, lightning bolts flashing in her eyes. Literally. Left sparks on the floor and everything.

F-Bomb sighed. “Just look at it this way: we’re not getting Moon back without a fight!”

The second he finished, Weena charged us, a trail of thunderbolts in her wake. F-Bomb and I tried to dodge, but the little raptor wasn’t able to get his tail out of the way fast enough. He let out a screech of pain as his feathers stood up end on end before crumpling on the ground like a thanksgiving turkey. I tried to run, only to realize my hair was standing on end. There would be no escaping the judgement of the Dik-Dik. Satisfied she’d fried us into chicken dinner, Weena went right on back to pulling the stuffing out of Sailor Moon. You should have seen it. Man, it was GRIZZLY! Of course, even being reduced to a barbeque turkey wasn’t enough to stop the ‘Bomb, especially when his waifu was on the line.

“Watt” he croaked, “if there was ever a forking time I wanted you to do me a genuine solid and not fork everything up, now is the forking time! Now, if I’m right (and you know I forking am), Weena was pokevolved into Weenachu. She can cover anything around her in static electricity, and it gets stronger the closer you are to her body!”

“So we just moisterize our skin?” I asked, remembering something my science teacher taught me.

“Is that what our forkin’ schools are teaching kids these frokin’ days? No wonder American education has gone down the forkin’ tubes! No, ya forkin’ dingbutt! Weren’t ya payin’ attention when I told you about Pokémon? Electric types are weak ta grass types! And I have the most powerful kinda grass in the world right under my bed! While I’m going ta get it, I need you ta get the largest piece of plant matter I own.”

An audible gasp escaped my mouth, almost enough to alert Weena. “Y-you mean, we have to sacrifice our secret WEEB stash?! But I-”

“No, you forking moron! I mean my Naruto Omnibus. Like Hell I’m giving up WEEB!”

The Naruto Omnibus. An epic saga consisting of every Naruto chapter ever published (including spin off series)! It was wider than I was tall and consisted of more pages than the complete works of Shakespeare, Tolkien, and Dr. Seuss combined. As I crept down the shelf, I wondered why Weena wasn’t doing everything. Didn’t take long to find out why, though, ‘cause the closer I inched to the sacred tome, the closer I got to Weena, the more every single hair on my body stood on end, tingling with electrical power, reminding me all too much of the time I crawled up a slide. One bad move, and I could be sparked out of existence. And through this suffering, I could only watch as Weena tore the stuffing out of Sailor Woon and sleep in the cottony aftermath. After what felt like an hour, I finally made it to my destination: the giant omnibus that took up an entire shelf worth of space. So of course then was when I realized I couldn’t carry the thing in my wildest dreams! When I tried to signal F-Bomb about this, he just gave a thumb (though it was more like a finger) up and tossed his secret weapon out from under the bed: a single floret of giga-broccoli. Weena sniffed it tepidly, then, doubting it was a threat swallowed it whole. Keep in mind the little Dik-Dik was a vegetarian, so her head didn’t exactly explode, but based on the way her pupils expanded, it was definitely having some kind of effect on her.

F-Bomb gave me a middle finger from under the bed. It was time to act.

With all the strength I could muster I took that omnibus and slammed it right on top of Weenna. A loud thud, like thunder, shook the room as the tome hit its’ target squashing her flatter than a pancake on Jupiter. When F-Bomb and I finally removed the tome, all that remained was a pink stain that smelled like cotton candy and baby kittens. To the last (until she regenerated, at least), Weena had been absolutely adorable. What wasn’t adorable was the loud sound of footsteps coming from the entrance tunnel.

“Hey, guys, I was wondering if either of you had se- OHMYPORECELAINGODWHATDIDYOUDOTOMYWEENA???!!!”

“Get the fork off our case, boss.” Muttered F-Bomb “It ain’t her. Just Turdsy here spilled his strawberry milk while was was learnin’ to vivisect caribou!” I had to hand it to F-Bomb, when he wasn’t being a curse spouting, animu hoarding spazz, he could really hold his own under pressure.

A-Hole sniffed the air with his undeceiveable Deinono nose.

“You smell that, you forkin’ turds? That’s definitely baby kittens and smiles. You guys can’t forkin’ fool me!” For a split second, I saw an expression that looked jarringly out of place on A-Hole. The rest of the gang, if you ever meet them, will deny it ever happened, but I know what I saw, and what I saw was…

A-Hole crying, a single tear sliding down his hideous, scaly face. “Now how am I supposed to attract the babes?!”

“Oh, for fork’s sake, you forkin’ baby! We’re in forkin’ Hell! She’ll probably forkin’ regenerate in a few days and show up somewhere random like she always forkin’ does!” cried F-Bomb, mustering up one final insult before our inevitable doom. Or destroying any chance A-Hole might have mercy on us, depending on your point of view.

To which A-Hole cried “It’s not the same after regeneration!”

As for me, I stared at the pink splatter on the floor, trying to imagine my life was flashing before my eyes for a good reason and not because A-Hole was gonna give it to us. Sailor Moon still sat in the corner, stuffing pulled out, injured but alive. And just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse (something I really need to stop doing) A-Hole sniffed the air.

“Wait a second, is that…”

F-Bomb, at last, broke. “I-I dunno what the fork you’re talkin’ about! Just take us to our punishment already! N-nothing to hide anymore, no siree!”

Too late. By the time F-Bomb had finished his sentence, our verdict had been laid down by A-Hole, our private judge, jury, and executioner.

One look. Just one look at the stuff was all he needed to know.

All he did was point a single finger-claw at us; the rage in the room palpable “Come to my office.” He beckoned.

#My writing #Nature Trail To Hell #velociraptor #dik-dik #sailor moon #deinonychus

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