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#i wish we could have had more of an in-game reaction when Nate first called MC ya rouhi
phoenix-onfire · 1 year
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bigfan-fanfic · 2 years
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I Can Explain (Male!Reader x Nate Drake)
Requested by anonymous for  Nate having lied to you about attending the Rossi estate auction only to find you there as well
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You are out of the game. Really.
You quit it when you got married, and he quit the treasure hunting biz, so you both are good to go.
It's just... this was your world for so long. Curating and overseeing the sale of certain... shall we say, desirable objects?
Is it ethical? No. Is it reasonably safe? Also no.
Is it egregiously lucrative?
Heck yes.
You have a standing invitation to the annual auction at the Rossi Estate. You still have a reputation among these people that your approval or your disdain can drastically alter the payouts for the artifacts.
And there is a certain... allure, at these events. The drama, the danger, the very scent of wealth in the air around you.
Also, the food is divine.
So when Nate says he's going on a short road trip with Sully, promising not to be gone long, swearing up and down he's not hunting treasure, you don't look too hard into it.
Because you're hopping a plane to Italy.
You and Nate are being responsible with your money, so there haven't been many first-class trips in the recent past, so flying free on a private plane is incredible. They serve a full meal, and you have an escort to the Rossi Estate. You feel a little guilty when Nate calls and wishes you goodnight - because it's nighttime back home but early morning in Italy - but you're here! In a tailored suit! Back in the saddle, as it were.
There's a ton of people there, from all walks of life. Nadine Ross from Shoreline looking amazing, Rafe Adler the American businessman, and... Sully?
Your first reaction is an "oh crap, they know" but then you realize that Nate and Sully went on their "road trip" BEFORE you decided to come to the Rossi auction.
Which means...
You move close to Rafe and Nadine, who are talking with Sully. "Victor, you sly dog, you slipped away from me again!"
You can almost see the little wince from Sully as he probably hears Nate recognizing your voice.
You can see Nadine and Rafe recoil with surprise as you slip into the role of arm candy, placing a kiss on Sully's cheek and slipping your arm around his waist.
Nadine chuckles. "Well, I didn't know you had 'partnered up' again as well."
Rafe gives a dry chuckle. "And with the famous Curator, no less. An honor."
He shakes your hand quickly, then shoots a glare at Sully. "Just in case you've been trading a couple of insider tips, here's one more. I know as well as you do that you're after that cross. It's mine. And if you bid on it, you're a dead man." With that, he looks at you. "Evening."
"Ciao." Nadine adds, leading Rafe away.
Sully groans and gives you an apologetic look. "Nate's asking what you're doing here."
You move up close to Sully to whisper right in the earpiece. "Alright, I could totally give in to my impulses to plot your death for lying to me, Drake, but since we're both here, obviously looking for adventure, I'm in. One last score for the both of us."
Sully is grinning. "Ooh, the kid didn't like that. But he's coming around... and... he says okay. And on a personal note, I'm glad for it. When Nate told me we were doing this on the down low, I was against it from the start."
You chuckle. "Nate's yelling at you for throwing him under the bus isn't he?"
"Yup. You know, you're a great asset. And I've never met a sweeter guy that knows as much about the black market as you. I wonder how Sam will match up to ya?"
You frown. "Who the heck is Sam?"
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bosspigeon · 3 years
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sunshine on a rainy day
Pairing: M!Detective/Mason Word Count: 3669 Summary: Unit Bravo helps Juni with rooting through the sodden mess of his bedroom, and Mason tries to figure out just what the hell is going on with the detective.
I have no excuses or explanations for this. It’s just self-indulgent corny nonsense.*shakes Mason like an Etch-a-Sketch until he can acknowledge his goddamned feelings*
Please check out this cover of “My Girl” by Kele Okereke that inspired this whole thing, because it makes it gay and it brings my little homosexual heart so much joy~
Mild CW for references to sex/m*sturbation
Things are still… weird, with Juni.
Of course, he’s pretending they aren’t, and he’d be very convincing if it were anyone but Mason he’s trying to convince.
His smiles are too brittle, too tense, and they don’t make his nose scrunch up like they should. His laughs are too-sharp and high-pitched, strained with effort, and he hasn’t snorted once. He radiates tension the second Mason looks his way, hides behind his hair like he’s afraid to look him in the eye. When Mason first met the detective, he thought he was soft. Too soft. The sort Mason would chew up and spit out if he cared enough to bother, but then he dug a little deeper, hit a nerve or two, and found that shiny spine. He found that, when pushed, Juni had bite.
He may have gotten a bit addicted to the bite, and now that it’s gone, he feels completely off-kilter. Juni still responds when he flirts, of course, blushing and fumbling like always, but it feels… different, somehow. And it has since the bakery.
He apologized, and he thought that would make it better, but it hasn’t, and now he’s caught between frustration and what might be... guilt?
Clearly, he’s hurt Juni somehow, and he’s not sure how to fix it.
Why do you need to fix it? Why do you care?
He shakes it off. They’ve got more important things to worry about right now. He’s got to keep his head in the game.
“I’m sorry,” Juni says miserably, again, and Mason wants to shake him. What part of this is his fault?
“It’s not your fault,” Nate says kindly, before Mason can get snippy and make Juni withdraw into himself even further. “You can’t be blamed for bad luck.”
Juni snorts, grabbing his arm. “If I didn’t have bad luck, I’d have no luck at all,” he recites, like it’s something he’s said before. He’s wearing a t-shirt that says “I Just Hope Both Teams Have Fun” and it’s a bit odd to see his arms without the cover of his usual sweatshirt. He keeps rubbing at his inner arm and the bird inked there. A self-soothing gesture, as if he’s not used to exposing so much skin. His nails are bitten all to hell, too. A mess of tells, this man.
“That’s the spirit!” Felix says cheerily, punching the air. The look Juni gives him is dry as a desert, and Mason feels a twist of something hot and acidic in his gut he can’t name. He wants to chuck Felix in a dumpster at least once a day, but the urge hits him like a truck out of the blue, and he can’t pinpoint the reason.
Fuck, he’d kill for a smoke.
“I’m still sorry,” Juni says again, squeezing his forearm. “For, y’know, the whole squad needing to babysit me for this.”
“It’s no trouble at all!” Nate exclaims, as if the very thought that Juniper believes their helping him sort through his soggy belongings to see what can be salvaged to be a chore is somehow an insult. “We’re happy to help.”
Juni gives Nate a soft-eyed smile that lights up his whole face, and that acid feeling burns more.
“You cannot be left unaccompanied,” Adam says stiffly, eyeing the horizon as if the Annunaki will swoop down on them in a parking lot in broad daylight. “It is best that we move as a unit when able, to ensure your safety.”
Juni ducks his head, still smiling. “Thank you guys,” he mumbles, and then he almost keels over when Felix slings his arm around his shoulder to shake him. Mason stifles a growl, and while Felix doesn’t notice, Adam and Nate both glance back at him with twin unreadable expressions he meets with the blandest look he can manage.
“I, for one, am looking forward to snooping through your place some more,” Felix snickers. Juni pushes him off.
For the most part, the flat is still in one piece, most of the damage contained to the bedroom, though the floor in the hallway is a bit waterlogged as well. Nate tuts in disappointment as the warped boards creak pathetically underfoot, no doubt mourning the fancy pattern to the antique wood. Mason can smell the water damage, mold and rot that no doubt caused the collapse in the first place, and the choking reek of plaster dust.
Juni sighs as he pushes open his bedroom door. The mess is even worse than Mason thought it would be, from what Juni told him. The bathtub that apparently crashed through his ceiling is gone, but the gaping hole remains, still shedding debris onto the ruined bed. The heavy antique bed frame itself is cracked clean in half, the mattress sagging in the middle, and Mason's chest squeezes.
Juni was right there seconds before an entire fucking bathtub came down on top of it. He could have been crushed.
He jolts when he feels fingers on his wrist, and when he looks down, Juni isn't looking directly at him, but towards him. "You can wait outside, if you want?" he suggests softly while Nate goes trotting into the room to cluck and fuss over Juni's bookshelf. "I know it smells kind of gross in here." His nose wrinkles a bit, and Mason hears the thick clicking of his throat as he swallows uncomfortably. No doubt, the smell’s not doing him any favors either, hyper senses or no.
"Did you bring a mask or something?" Mason asks rather than replying, gesturing to the plaster dust settled all over everything, floating in the air now that they've disturbed it. "Your lungs are already shitty enough."
Juni flushes a pretty, rosy pink and fumbles hastily for his bag with a little blurt of, "Oh, yeah!" He puts it on, and Mason wants to groan. Of course it's got a stupid little cat mouth on it.
"Juni," Nate calls, his voice heavy with sadness. He's holding a book in his hands as carefully as if it were an injured bird. "You have a collector’s edition of The Velveteen Rabbit?"
"Had," Juni corrects, his eyes crinkling with a sardonic little smile Mason can't see, but knows the shape of intimately enough to picture. “It had reproductions of the original lithograph illustrations too.” He gives Mason a quick sidelong look before pattering over to take the book from Nate and sadly try to peel apart the pages.
Felix sidles up to Mason with about as much subtlety as a bathtub through the ceiling while Nate assures Juni they can salvage the book, and likely a good amount of the others, if they are very careful. The younger vampire gives him a startlingly critical look that he tries to hide under his usual smirk. "You guys are ridiculous," he scoffs. Mason snaps out a hand to cuff him, but Felix dodges and rabbit-punches him lightly in the ribs. It’s surprising enough from someone as ambivalent to fighting as Felix is that Mason doesn’t even think to dodge, and when he glowers at him, Felix glowers right back.
It’s not terribly impressive on him, but points for trying.
“Be nice to him,” Felix hisses, and this time Mason is ready enough to swat his hand away before he can get jabbed again.
“I’m plenty nice to him,” he drawls, affecting an easy smirk.
Felix studies him for a long moment, then looks him dead in the eye, smiles glibly, and says, “You’re so pretty.” He reaches out like he’s going to pat Mason’s cheek, but he dodges and stalks away to help Adam move some of Juni’s heavier furniture that might still be salvageable. Felix makes a beeline for the bathroom, probably to rifle through Juni’s medicine cabinet or something.
Juni leaves Nate to meticulously pick through his bookshelf and slip blotting paper (which he made sure to bring the second Juni voiced his doubts the small collection of books in his room would be salvageable) between the pages and setting them aside to pack up and take back to the warehouse, where he has the supplies to take care of them. He starts bagging up clothes, while Adam and Mason prop his mattress against the wall to get it out of the way. He’ll have to get a new one for sure. Just being close to the damn thing makes Mason want to retch with the smell of the mildew. Juni drifts by to start bundling up his bedding, and his knuckles skim against Mason’s lower back.
A shudder rolls up his spine, and he settles as his senses calm down enough for him to actually assist Adam. The mattress isn’t heavy for them by any means, but it’s bulky enough to be a pain for just one of them to carry.
Juni is setting to work boxing up all his little trinkets and knickknacks (and he’s got a lot of them) when Felix comes barrelling out of his bathroom with something purple held victoriously above his head.
“Hey, Juni!” he yells, and all of them, even Juni,  wince at the volume. “What’s this?”
Once he’s stopped, and is no longer a brightly colored blur in the vague shape of a vampire, Mason can actually see what he’s holding aloft like a trophy. Once he realizes what it is, he can’t help but smirk. Before he even looks at Juni, he can feel the heat radiating off him, his blood rushing, his heart rate spiking.
Even if Mason didn’t know what a goddamned magic wand was, Juni’s reaction would be a dead giveaway.
Faster than Mason has ever seen the detective move, he bolts across the room and snatches the thing out of Felix’s hand, hiding it behind his back. “Where did you find that?” he yelps, his voice pitching high and cracking.
“Your closet,” Felix says brightly, his eyes glimmering with mischief. He’s clearly caught on. “Should I not have touched it?”
“It’s clean!” Juni squawks, his face almost glowing red. “Don’t be gross!”
“Man, now I really wish I’d picked that locked box in there open,” Felix cackles, and Juni smacks at his shoulder and then breaks for the bathroom before the vampire can make good on that promise. He slams the door behind him and Mason hears the click of the lock, while Felix laughs so hard he has to brace himself against the wall and hold his stomach.
Adam and Nate are deeply focused on their own work, admirably pretending they haven’t noticed anything going on outside their little tasks.
It takes a while for Juni to be coaxed out of the bathroom again, but even mortification that makes him blush so ferociously that Mason can feel the heat of him from three feet away wouldn’t allow him to shove his duties off on someone else. He does bring a small wooden trunk out of the bathroom with him, closed with a little heart-shaped padlock that Felix could break off easily if he wanted to. Juni seems just as aware of that risk, so he guards the trunk with his goddamned life, even going so far as to sit on it and glower at Felix while he helps Nate pack up all his waterlogged books and fragile little trinkets.
Mason does give the trunk a very pointed look, trailing his eyes up the detective’s body and meeting his gaze with an easy smirk, just to watch him flush even redder, and while he does go so red the smattering of freckles across his nose almost disappears, he looks away sharply and hides behind his hair.
Mason barely resists pulling an Adam and crushing the weird little ceramic owl he’s packing away.
The rest of the day goes pretty uneventfully afterwards. He and Adam move and dry off furniture, drag stuff that can’t be saved outside to be thrown out, Nate delights in every interesting little antique he finds and mourns the damage done to them, Felix flits around and pretends he’s helping when he’s really just having fun rooting through the detective’s things, and Juni helps where he can and avoids Mason’s eyes as they track his every move. Even if they didn’t, he wouldn’t be able to shake the awareness of Juni, wherever he is in the room.
After they’ve packed everything they could into the Agency SUV, they head off. Juni is quiet on the ride back, sitting close to the window with a box of junk in his lap. Felix is between him and Mason, completely ignoring the odd tension and distracting the detective by asking about whatever random tchotchke he pulls from the box. Mason just stares out the window and tries to ignore the niggling desire to light a cigarette, only slightly mitigated by the fact that he doesn't even have one on him.
Later, once they’ve hauled everything to Juni’s room (or in the case of the books, to Nate’s room to be subjected to the tenderest of mercies) Mason sits on the roof alone for a long while, staring consideringly at an unlit cigarette and twisting it between his fingers. His head feels heavy with everything weighing it down, a twisting, confusing mess writhing in his skull. He tries, once again, to direct his thoughts to easier things, but every time he tries to think about Juni squirming underneath him, thighs squeezing his hips, gasping his name, his thoughts inevitably turn to gentle fingers on his cheeks, a bright laugh lighting up his insides, hazel-green eyes looking up at him with… with what?
He growls and shoves the cigarette back into the pack, cramming it into his pocket.
“What does this mean for us?”
Since when is there an “us?”
He falls back onto the roof with a thud, the rough surface making his skin scream with prickling discomfort, but he ignores it. He closes his eyes, tries to quiet the jumble of his thoughts. He unleashes his senses just a bit, driven by instinct and a need to focus on something, anything else, and takes a slow, deep breath. He hears the low murmur of Nate’s voice somewhere below, in the den. Adam’s there too, naturally. He can’t make out the words, but the conversation is easy and familiar, soft with intimacy.
He snorts. The two of them are fucking ridiculous. You’d think they’d have realized they’re basically married a couple centuries ago, and yet…
Felix isn’t hard to locate, though he’s deeper in the warehouse, where the bedrooms are. He’s loud, as usual, so Mason can hear him a bit better, but still he’s not quite close enough to make out words. He focuses a little harder, relaxes his body and exhales slowly. Along with his voice, there’s a light twanging, which eventually strings together into a rhythm. Music? Felix listens to music often, but it’s usually louder, faster-paced. Grates on Mason’s nerves like absolute hell, but this is slower, brighter. And then he hears Juni’s voice, and his senses rush in like a hungry dog spotting a rabbit.
A laugh, low and sweet.
Mason is rolling to his feet and off the roof before he even has a chance to think about it. It’s the work of a few seconds to slip through the window, and he keeps his footsteps light as he slips through the warehouse like a ghost. He passes the den and glances in. Adam and Nate have their heads close together, talking in low voices with files laid out neatly on the coffee table in front of them, two glasses of wine carefully placed a safe distance away from their paperwork. Adam gives him a quick look over his shoulder, and the ever-present tension in them eases somewhat. Mason nods and continues on by.
The twanging music gets louder as he stalks down the stairs, Felix’s bright voice more raucous than ever, but it’s easy enough to tune out when he hears Juni’s answering laugh floating from Felix’s open bedroom door.
“Are you gonna stop heckling me and make a request?” he asks, and Mason can hear the sunny plunking notes of a ukulele under the words, as if the detective is absently plucking the strings as he talks. Mason vaguely recalls Felix triumphantly hauling the little green instrument from underneath Juni's shattered bed frame, scuffed and covered in wet stickers, and Juni sighing sadly at the broken strings.
“Well, what do you usually play?” Felix asks, his bed creaking. Mason can picture him flopping around like a drunk fish, and he has to stifle a snort.
“I mostly just do covers and stuff.” A rustle of cloth, Juni’s shrugging. “I’ve written a few things, but I’m already giving myself heart palpitations performing in front of people, so I think actually performing something I wrote myself would kill me outright.”
“Well, you’re performing for me, aren’t you? And you seem pretty calm.”
“Since when are you people?” Juni snorts.
Felix barks out a laugh. “Rude!”
There’s a bit of a tussle, a discordant twang, and Juni yelps. “Careful, careful! I just replaced these strings, asshole!”
Felix gasps, affronted. “I’m telling Nate you called me that!”
“No, don’t tell Mum!” Juni whines, and they laugh together more.
Mason shifts from one foot to the other, pressing a hand to his stomach as if that’ll help quell the strange feeling there.
“Stop stalling,” Felix prods, and Juni shifts and sighs heavily. “Fine, fine, but don’t make fun of me, or I will cry.”
“Scout’s honor!” Felix chimes, and Mason wonders where the hell he heard that phrase.
They’re both quiet, and then Juni strums at the strings, just dabbling a bit before he actually starts plucking a rhythm. He takes a deep breath, as if bracing himself. “I’ve got sunshine on a cloudy day,” he croons, and Mason perks up almost instinctively, sunshine echoing in his ears. Juni’s singing voice, much like his speaking one,  is soft and a little breathy, but it warbles with clear nerves. “When it’s cold outside, I’ve got the month of May…”
Felix gasps, delighted, and Juni falters for a moment, but doesn’t stop.
“Well, I guess you’d say what can make me feel this way? My guy, I’m talkin’ ‘bout my guy...” Mason slides forward, towards the door as if pulled on a string, and he sees Juni sitting at the end of Felix’s rumpled bed with its blindingly bright sheets, cross-legged with his back mostly to the door, but Mason can see his face in profile. Felix is lying at the head of the bed on his belly, with his chin propped up on his elbows.
His golden eyes flicker to Mason, and he smirks, raising his eyebrows and sticking his tongue out quickly, before Juni notices. Which he likely won’t, eyes closed, dark lashes fanned out across his freckled cheeks.
There’s a smile curling his lips, small but happy, and it only widens when Felix begins snapping in time, laughter coloring the lilting notes. “I’ve got so much honey, the bees envy me. I’ve got a sweeter song than the birds in the trees…” He leans into the chorus, rocking back and forth along with Felix’s snapping. "Well, I guess you’d say, what can make me feel this way?"
Mason braces a hand on the doorframe, if for no other reason than to stop himself walking into the room. He has no idea what he’d even say, but he knows he’d spook the detective, skittish little human he is, and break whatever odd spell has fallen over them both.
Juni’s voice gets stronger, bit by bit, as he settles, rising with confidence. He hums along to his strumming, and the smile that lights up his face sticks behind Mason’s ribs, along with the words of the song.
As Juni trails off with a dreamily sighed, “I’ve even got the month of May,” Felix claps loudly and cheers, an enthusiastic audience of one. Mason winces back away from the door, scowling and shaking his head.
He should leave. Either leave, or butt in just to watch Juni get all flustered, but something holds him still, keeps him quiet.
“I think I know that song,” Felix says slowly, and Mason doesn’t need to see his face to know the teasing smirk spreading there. He narrows his eyes suspiciously.
Juni snorts. “Everyone does, Fe. It’s from the 60s.”
“Yeah, but you sang it differently,” Felix presses. “Thinking of someone in particular, were you?”
Mason looks around the door frame just in time to see Juni whack Felix solidly with a pillow. “It was a cover!” he exclaims, his cheeks going ruddy. “A cover of a cover!” He smacks Felix with the pillow again, a solid whump muffling the vampire’s bell-like laughter as it hits him in the face. “Don’t make it weird!”
“I’ve got sunshine,” Felix warbles, snatching the pillow before Juni can swing a third time and hugging it to his chest.
“It’s a cute song!” Juni insists. “I like cute songs! I’ve got a ton I could have sung, but I picked that one, because I heard a cover once that made it about a guy instead of a girl, and you might not be aware of this, Felix, but I am a homosexual.”
Felix’s hand flies to his mouth, amber eyes going  comically wide. “No! You? How long were you planning to keep this from me?”
Juni very carefully sets his little green, lovingly restored ukulele to the side for safekeeping before he tries to wrestle the pillow back from Felix so he can hit him again.
Mason figures it’s a good time to take his leave, before Felix decides to use his presence as a scapegoat from the detective’s wrath.
He slips up the stairs, his head heavy, something… just something stirring in him he can’t even begin to parse.
Juni’s soft voice follows him back to the quiet of the rooftop, a gentle strain chasing itself around in his head.
Sunshine on a rainy day...
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eggy-tea · 4 years
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(@sgtbarnes107​ Hope you don’t mind me cheating a little with screenshots of the asks since it messed up the formatting on me so bad last time, and that’s one of those things that makes me super twitchy.)
First off: I love Maggie too -- I love that from the moment we meet her, she’s shown as more functional than Nate in basically every way, and just so cool about everything. I’m glad Archie was able to really do right by Parker eventually. (In fairness to him, I think it would have taken a lot of time, effort, and patience to integrate Parker into any sort of a family, the way she was when he found her, and as much as I could have wished that for her, he was under no obligation to provide it.) Sterling is generally an equal-opportunity bastard and a worthy antagonist, so I’m always happy to see him show up, and happier to see him lose whatever game they’re playing this time.
As for Quinn, well. When we first meet Quinn in The First David Job, he’s kicking the crap out of Eliot and being smarmy about it, so I took a pretty immediate and, I think, natural dislike to him. My feelings were mostly, “Who’s this asshole who thinks he can take on Eliot? Stop hitting Eliot! Eliot, stop losing this fight!!! Ah, there we go, order restored. Bye, dude.”
It actually took me a moment to place him when we saw him again in The Last Dam Job, because it had been three seasons since he’d appeared, and I don’t remember him being mentioned at any point in between. My immediate gut reaction was You’re gonna call This Guy? because I was still kind of holding a grudge over what he did to Eliot.
But then! They immediately made it very clear that neither Quinn nor Eliot held a grudge over that fight, so frankly, what business did I have holding onto it? The fact that Eliot went to Quinn tells me that Quinn is both very skilled and, while not a paragon of virtue, also not a horrible human being, because Eliot would never have looped him in if that were the case. The fact the Quinn doesn’t hold a grudge against Eliot further confirms that — they were both just doing their jobs; it wasn’t personal. I can appreciate that.
And as soon as I got over that, I was a fan. He’s a lot more lighthearted the second time around. He gets some good lines, and the actor has a lot of fun playing them.
Also, the dynamic between him and Eliot is great — Eliot is so clearly loving having someone else around who gets it. Like, Eliot loves his team, but they’re not hitters. He’s spent most of his adult life working with other very tough, very effective practitioners of violence, and I think he sometimes misses the easy understanding that comes from working around people who see the world through a similar lens. The Leverage crew stretches him, pushes him to grow, lets him be more fully himself than he could ever be in a world where the solution to every problem is a fist to the face, but growth is never easy, you know? Sometimes you just want to relax around people who like the things you like.
Finally, to bring this back around to Quinn, I appreciate how much he has zero patience for Chaos, because that guy sucks. All of his jabs at Chaos absolutely won him points from me.
So overall? Fun character; seems like a decent enough dude, considering; I’d be jazzed to see him again. If he had to work with Parker directly, I don’t think he’d quite know what to make of her — he’d respect her obvious talent, but otherwise vacillate between amusement and bemusement at the rest of her. (Ultimately, I think he’s smart enough to be able to look at how Eliot treats her and infer from there.)
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ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years
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Casablanca
Just a very short captivity drabble for Danny/Nate! I haven’t done much Danny stuff lately and I’ve had this kicking around in my Google Docs for a while! I wrote out the third part of the Rescue but it needs some more work, so... captivity drabble it is!
CW: Discussion of forced stitches/violence, blood, referenced/implied noncon, captivity, restrained
Tagging: @bleeding-demon-teeth, @spiffythespook, @finder-of-rings, @whumpywhumper​ @special-spicy-chicken, @pumpkinthefangirl​
“H-hey.”
Too close, the whisper is too close. Still, Danny has learned to let even the softest noise shatter through his sleeping mind - it’s too dangerous not to wake up in time, you can’t make Abraham call you three times or that’s breaking a rule. 
He’s been drifting uneasily in and out of dreams, shifting around to try and take some pressure off his throbbing left shoulder. There are thick black threads sewn in an uneven line from above his collarbone down nearly to his bicep, surrounded by angry red skin. It's a reminder after the last defiance, the last rebellion.
Don’t worry puppy, Bram had murmured, petting into his hair and along his neck as the knife dug deeper and deeper and Danny tried so hard to be good, so Abraham would forgive him for breaking the gift he had brought back from his last supply run. 
It was the worst fucking thing Abraham had brought home to use on him so far. Danny had stared at it and thanked him for it, waited until Abraham was in the bathroom showering, and then taken it outside and smashed the fucking thing to bits with the axe.
 Abraham found him surrounded by chopped-up shreds of wires and plastic and metal and batteries, snarling at the wreckage he had made. 
Abraham hadn’t yelled. His expression had been calm. He moved without any particular speed as he came closer, the air colder with every step, and Danny had only laid the axe down next to the stump, turned, and dropped to his knees to wait for his punishment with his head held high and his eyes burning a bright and defiant blue.
It wasn't like Danny could run - where would he even go?
Abraham had told him that if he didn’t scream, he would only cut for a minute. Just sixty seconds and no longer.
So Danny kept his scream behind his teeth and let the tears blur his vision until he couldn’t see icy eyes so clearly any longer. Eventually the pain turned his world to gray and then to fog and finally to nothing at all. 
He had come back to consciousness to the sight of blood everywhere and the sound of Abraham's pure and purring delight as he got out thick black upholstery thread and a needle, Nate with shaking hands beside him as Abraham held a needle over a flame on the gas stove.
Don’t worry, sweet thing. Nate's going to make sure this scars nice and deep so you never, ever forget. Then Abraham had jammed a thumb into the wound he had made and said, softly, you can scream now, little Red.
The whole thing had been a lesson for Nate, too - he’d protested the punishment (“B-Bram, this is t-t-too much, you didn't w-warn him first, you h-h-had to know he wouldn’t w-w-want that”) and so he’d been forced to do the stitching afterward. He’d been right-handed before Abraham broke the bones so long ago, so he had to sew as best he could with his awkward left hand... after Abraham blindfolded him.
All Danny had been given for the pain was shot after shot after shot of the good whiskey Abraham kept in the cabinet and the cold of the fingers that gently petted through his hair, pressed into his jaw to force his mouth open for more. 
The whiskey wasn’t enough, but it left the world spinning around him, and eventually he’d passed out cold from that or the shock on the kitchen floor, his back stuck to the plastic of the tarp Abraham had laid him on to catch all the blood. Nate must have bargained something, because he’d been given the rest of the day on the mat to recover (and throw up, and be hungover) before he had to get up the next morning and do chores one-handed and with agony radiating out from his shoulder.
Whatever Nate had done… Abraham had given him a whole week where he barely touched him. Seven days, six nights. 
Danny chooses not to think about what Nate had to give away to earn that kind of break for him - it’s not worth it, because it’s probably the same things he gives away to earn a few days of peace for Nate.
There’s always a choice. There’s always a test, or a game. And Abraham always wins.
“Red? Wake up.”
Can’t let him call three times. Danny lets the dream - something soothing and largely formless except for the sense that he was climbing trees with his brother and he was a kid, just a kid, safe and easy - break like glass. 
He gives Ryan away again. 
He is always giving Ryan away, here, and praying that the next time won’t be the last, when Ryan is finally gone from his thoughts forever.
(you shouldn’t even dream about anyone but me)
“Please,” Danny whispers, not quite begging, without opening his eyes. “Please, please let me sleep a little more. I’m good, I’m good, let me sleep, please…” Danny curls up tighter, digging his fingernails into his own head to try and block the blow that he’s sure will follow the words. Puppies don’t get to decide, they wake up when their owners say. His scalp still aches from Abraham pulling on his hair last night when he moved too slowly, and that’s nothing compared to the bruises littering his hips and thighs. The plastic mat crinkles and shifts under him as he moves, trying to bury himself in the thin blankets, so that only a bit of wavy red even shows.
That makes his shoulder hurt again, and he hisses softly, wishing fewer parts of him ached all the time. He can’t remember the last time he moved without pain.
If I don’t open my eyes, it won’t keep happening, it won’t be real
A hand touches his shoulder, hesitantly, and he holds himself very, very still for it. He’s good, he doesn’t flinch or pull away. He’s so, so good. But then he thinks… Abraham never hesitates. His hand starts to relax away from his scalp, pulling back, and he cracks open eyes that feel nearly glued together to stare up between his fingers. 
“Hey, Red,” Nate says softly. The older man is still rumpled from sleep, too - he’s thrown on a sweater but it’s inside out and Danny can see the seams running down along the outside of his shoulders and arms. He’s wearing the thick warm flannel pants he’s allowed to wear, and Danny breathes out, jealous of how warm he must be.
His own fingertips, toes, the end of his nose - it all feels like ice.
“Wh… why’d you wake me up?” Danny asks, pulling his hand the rest of the way away, carefully rolling to push himself up using his right arm, holding his left close to his chest so his shoulder won’t move any more than it has to. “It’s…” His eyes go to the window, the pure and perfect darkness outside. It was cloudy all day, there isn’t even any starlight or moonlight to see by now. They might as well live in a tiny little pinpoint of light in a void. “Looks like the middle of the night.”
“I think it is, ah-... actually. You w-were making sounds in your sl, sleep. I didn’t want you to w-w-wake Bram up.” Nate glances back over his shoulder at the closed bedroom door. Danny’s eyes follow his and he shudders.
It’s freezing cold out here, like always, but he hadn’t tried to barter for the bed tonight. He… he couldn’t. Not tonight, not after earlier.
He’d rather be cold tonight.
“Thanks, thank you for that,” Danny says softly, with real feeling. He’s woken Abraham up before - and his reactions tended to range from irritated to furious depending on how much sleep he’d gotten beforehand. He sits up the rest of the way, getting his bare feet under him, feeling the chain attached to his ankle shift a little. 
It doesn’t quite make enough noise to matter. Danny’s an expert at maneuvering without the chain scraping by now. When Nate stands and offers him a hand, he takes it, pulling himself to his feet. Nate’s hand is warm, and dry - he’s never cold, not even in the middle of the night in winter.
“Your hair l-l-looks ridiculous,” Nate says, voice and flash of smile both soft as feathers in Danny’s mind. Nate reaches out, casual as anything, to ruffle Danny’s hair, smashed down on one side and sticking straight up on the other. He smooths it down, and Danny shivers a little at the way it feels so much different when Nate touches him.
He lets him do it for just a few seconds longer than absolutely necessary, and then Danny swats him away as best he can, rolling his eyes. They both pretend Danny’s face isn’t flushed a little red, burying some of the freckles and scars under the rush of blood. “Like yours looks any better, you jerk.”
Perfectly normal conversation between two perfectly normal men - as though one of them weren’t chained to the wall and the other hadn’t just spent the past several hours sleeping with and then next to the person who locked them up here in the first place. 
“No,” Nate says thinking, his eyes drifting back to the mop of wavy red - long, since it was towards the end of winter, and Abraham liked his hair longer when it was cold, so he could twist it around his fingers and pull on it. It fell past his ears, curling at the ends, and Nate reached back up to twist one wave into a curl. “Y-yours definitely looks beh… better.”
Danny became suddenly deeply and entirely aware of every inch of his own skin, and of the slight pull of his hair when Nate stretched the curl out straight. And very aware of Nate’s deep green eyes, the focus and consideration in them, the way they looked over Danny’s face without even batting an eye at how thoroughly the muzzle had ruined it.
If we weren’t here, if I wasn’t this… I think I would want you, anyway.
Danny never says the words, but he thinks them more and more, and he worries endlessly that Abraham knows he is thinking the words, knows but for some reason lets them rest in Danny, doesn’t beat or cut or burn them out of him.
Abraham knowing something like that and not hurting him over it more terrifying than any pain he could cause because of it… because it means either he’ll wait to use it against him in some new way he can’t predict, or… or it means feeling like this is something Abraham wants. That even Danny’s smallest, most private defiance is just part of Abraham’s plan.
“Did you want to watch a movie?” Danny asks, ignoring the pulsing ache in his shoulder, simply pushing it to the side of his brain where he puts all the pain when Abraham isn’t actively causing it. 
Nate smiles at him, pulling at the little scar on the corner of his mouth, and Danny fights the urge to lean down and kiss it, just there at the corner where it makes his smiles seem a little one-sided. “Y-Yeah. D’you w-w-want to have m, movie night? I want to l-look at your, um, your cut and put something it, so it d-d-doesn’t get infected. C-Casablanca?”
“You always want to watch Casablanca.”
“Of c-c-course I do.” Nate almost laughs, and just catches himself, looking nervously back at the closed bedroom door. “You s-say all the words.”
“So?”
“So...” Nate looks back at him, and for a second Danny doesn’t feel the chain on his ankle at all. “I like when you s-s-say all the w-words.”
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msjr0119 · 5 years
Text
Hold On
Part 9 - Love makes you do crazy things...
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Nobody got injured at the Homecoming ball, they all get separated into different safe houses- for safety.
Riley and Drake had confirmed that they had feelings for each other, however Drake believed Riley should be with Liam. Heartbroken, she moves back to New York. Only keeping in touch with Hana, Maxwell and Olivia.
Riley meets lawyer, Nate Cooper and begins a relationship with him. In Cordonia, Drake begins to court Kiara.
Nine months after Riley had left Cordonia- there is a reunion, but not the reunion the friends had hoped for.
*Characters belong to Pixelberry*
If you are under 18 please do not read this series. If you do, you are consenting that you are over the age.
Series warnings: Suicide, domestic abuse, swearing, stabbing, smut 🍋. If any of these triggers affect you do not read!
***Some quotes from this part are from TRR***
Tags- @annekebbphotography @burnsoslow @drakesensworld @ladyangel70 @kingliam2019 @bbrandy2002 @butindeed @bascmve01 @drakewalker04 @pedudley @captain-kingliamsqueen @duchessemersynwalker @insideamirage @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @kozabaji @texaskitten30 @ibldw-main @kimmiedoo5 @nikkis1983 @dangerouseggseagleartisan @gnatbrain @walker7519 @lodberg @cmestrella @choices97
******
Love makes you do crazy things....
Liam thought back to his and Riley’s relationship since they first met in New York. It all now seemed like distant memories- something that would happen in a rom-com.
“Sorry I’m late. Thank you for your patience, Miss?”
“Uh, Riley.”
“Charmed to make your acquaintance, Riley.”
“Trust me the pleasures all mine. It’s nice to meet you.”
- -
“I’m doing this because... you seemed to need it.”
“That’s so sweet of you. To be honest nobody’s ever done anything like this for me before.”
“And right now looking at this view with you, I feel anything is possible. Thank you for this moment Riley. This feeling... this means more to me than you could ever know. I want you know that I admire you. Your adventurous spirit. The way you follow your heart.....I’m glad to have met you Riley. I’ll never forget this night.”
- -
“Hello. You have to forgive me, but I don’t think we’ve met....”
“Oh. And how does a Prince usually greet a beautiful mystery woman?”
“With a kiss on the hand, I hope. Now I believe I know every other lady here, so your presence is baffling me. I can’t stop my mind from racing. Is she a high ranking aristocrat from a different country? Or a wealthy woman of the world? So who are you? What brings you here?”
“You brought me. I think all the women here tonight are here for you.”
“In a manner of speaking. But no ones ever surprised me yet like this.”
“You’ll be even more surprised when you figure out the truth.”
“And what is that?”
“No guesses yet?”
“Riley... I never thought I’d see you again.”
- -
“And So Lady Riley, we find ourselves alone together.”
“So it would seem.”
“I’m sorry I had to cut our conversation short earlier.”
“It’s a busy night for you, I’m sure...”
“And yet, the only person I’ve been thinking about all night is you.”
“Liam you wanted to talk?”
“I want to be alone with you. There are things I need to tell you, but it’s more than that.”
“Oh?”
“Yes I want to do more than talk. The truth is Lady Riley, I’m done waiting. I want you.”
“Liam...”
“If you feel the same way, that is.”
It then dawned on him when he truly lost her- due to the scandal, due to his lack of ability in making his own choices.
“We need to talk. You’re an engaged man.”
“Yes of course, it’s just. Damn Lady Riley, how I’ve missed you.”
“Liam, you never should’ve let me go.”
“I wish I hadn’t.”
“Madeline and I have a understanding. She knows I’m not in love with her.”
“She does?”
“Yes. And she simply doesn’t care.”
“So does that make me your mistress?”
“Hardly. It makes you the woman I love.”
Throughout the engagement tour Liam wished that Riley was by his side as his Queen, not the poisonous snake. His memory of her asking if she would be a mistress, hurt him deeply. She never understood that, she was the woman he loved and wanted to spend eternity with. He could understand her not wanting to degrade herself to that status. It was selfish of him to think that she would even consider it. Every effort he made to be close to her, to have her in his arms again failed. He failed her.
“Liam, how many times do I need to tell you? I am not being your mistress! Stop trying to arrange secret rendezvous’s please. I’m not sleeping with you. I’m not getting close to you. You are getting married soon. You let me go and broke my heart. You chose this. I love you, I really do but I can only love you as a friend at this moment in time. My head is all over the place. I need time to think and breathe. I can’t do this, I’m sorry.”
“Riley please. I will call off the wedding now. I don’t care about the scandal or the press’s reactions. They are all false accusations, we all know that. We don’t need Tariq to come forward. Please Riley, I love you.”
“No Liam! I’m not having my heart broken over and over again. I’m sorry.”
He had suspicions regarding Drake and Riley. But never believed that they was having a secret relationship, until Olivia confirmed this. Maybe that’s why she wouldn’t meet him, because she was falling for Drake. We both failed her.
Liam knew, if Riley was to recover he had to think of a way to make up for his past mistakes to her.
*****
Drake thought back about his relationship with Riley. The way he called her “Brooks” as a defense mechanism - to show that he didn’t care as much as he did about her. The way she pulled his walls away, one by one. And he still continuously pushed her away. Then he finally broke, and let her in. For him, to push her away again.
Seeing Riley laying there lifeless, he couldn’t understand how much pain she had gone through to do such a thing. Maybe, Maxwell should have left her here in New York- he knew the Cordonian court was vicious and had always warned the newbie about it. Why didn’t he do anything to prevent her becoming such a broken person? Kiara was constantly texting and ringing him- he knew it was wrong to ignore his girlfriend, but right now the mother of his deceased baby needed him more. He let both her and his baby down and will regret it for the rest of his life. Holding her hand, fighting back the tears- his thoughts lingered on how he could fix his relationship with Riley.
*****
“You’re majesty? May we have a word please?”
“Yes, of course.”
“So, after checking Miss Brooks obs- We are going to try and see if she’ll respond to breathing on her own any better than what she has done in the past few days. I should warn you that, if she doesn’t we will have to make a decision...”
“Don’t speak anymore. Please. We are not losing her. She’s a fighter. I know she is... she’s too young...”
“I understand Sir. But we really do need to consider what is best for Miss Brooks. We have tried the last few days- and it hasn’t worked. We are still hopeful though.”
The nurse walked out of the room, after what seemed like an eternity. They had finalised the checks on Riley. Everyone was anxious to know how she was doing.
“So, she’s doing okay at the moment. It can take time though. I assure you, we are doing our very best.”
The nurse pat Liam on the shoulder giving him an encouraging smile. Bertrand and Maxwell had been thinking for a few days now, what the best course of action was for everyone included.
“You’re Majesty?”
“Yes, Duke Ramsford?”
“It has come to my attention that you are required back in Cordonia. Myself and Maxwell, well we thought... Lady Riley is part of our house, she is our responsibility. We will stay here with her. There’s no point in all of us staying here. Everyone should go home, and we will contact you with any news. We will ring you all on daily basis.”
“I can’t leave her like this Bertrand. Please don’t make me leave.”
“With all due respect your Majesty, you are a King and have other responsibilities. Only myself and Max will stay. Take everyone home on the Royal Jet.”
Liam knew Bertrand was speaking the truth. It hurt him thinking about leaving her. Abandoning her in her moment of need.
“I suppose you are right. If she wakes up, can you.. can you...”
“Yes Liam, I will let her know that you’ve been by her side all this time. I promise your Majesty.”
******
Everyone boarded the Royal Jet apart from The Beaumont’s as planned, the journey was mute, as if they were all in the morgue.
On arrival back in the palace, Madeline and Kiara were awaiting- arms folded giving everyone dagger eyes. No one noticed due to the jet lag- it was as if the last few days had been a nightmare- one that they hadn’t woken up from yet.
Kiara was furious with her so called boyfriend ‘abandoning’ her and stormed straight towards Drake’s direction.
“So how is Lady Riley? I assume that’s where you’ve all been. Oui?”
“Probably dead now Ki, hence why they have all finally returned - looking miserable. Haven’t you heard darling? Lady Riley jumped into a river. Attention seeker- the internet tells you everything.”
“Madeline fuck off! I’ve already broken someone’s nose this week! Leave us all alone, you cold hearted bitch!”
Madeline stood there smirking, knowing she had gotten under Olivia’s skin. Anger was raging through Olivia’s body, her face became more and more red. She just wanted to slap that smug expression off Madeline’s face. Her fists clenched and slowly rose, until Drake shook his head at her. His expression pleaded for the Duchess not to play into Madeline’s games. He placed her arm back in line with her waist and gave her a soft smile.
“I agree with Olivia for once. Just leave me alone Kiara- I thought you’d have understood the hint when I didn’t answer any calls. Excuse me Liv.”
“Drake Walker don’t you dare walk away from me again. You are with me now, not Riley!”
“Kiara! I’ll talk to you later.”
Liam snuck off to his quarters, he couldn’t cope with his ex fiancées games or Kiara berating Drake for his whereabouts.
Hitting the bottle, Liam couldn’t cope. He was neither use nor ornament here, he couldn’t concentrate- so how could he continue his King duties? All he kept thinking about was if Riley had managed to breathe on her own yet. He drunk some of the scotch- the frustration of not knowing, made him launch the remainder of the bottle against the wall. The brown liquid slowly spilled down the wall leaving a sticky residue. Please still be fighting Riley.
******
The Beaumont’s stayed with Riley. Not leaving her sight. They needed to stay awake - their eyes were puffy and bloodshot.
“Max I’m just going to get us a coffee. Do you want anything else?”
“No I’m fine, thanks bro.”
Bertrand left Max, feeling guilty that he had to leave Riley even for a five minute coffee run.
“Hey, Riley. It’s just you and me little blossom. What is that fairy tale? Where the Prince kisses the Princess and she wakes up? In fact there’s probably a few of them. Snow White, Sleeping Beauty. You’re our sleeping beauty but I think you’ve had enough sleep now. Time to get up lazy bones. Maxwell the walking and talking alarm clock demands that you get up Ri.”
Maxwell kissed her on the cheek, whilst one hand cupped the other. He didn’t know how much more he could cry, or if there was any tears left in him.
He slumped down on the chair, he really needed to stay awake but was struggling- Bertrand was taking forever getting their coffees. Thinking about it, Bertrand was very specific about his coffee- the staff had probably cocked it up somehow and he was most likely giving them hell for it. Max decided to play I spy, to pass the time away. He felt silly doing this on his own but Bertrand would be back soon- surely.
“I spy with my little eye... something that is worn by the hospital staff- personal protective equipment.”
“Latex gloves?” Maxwell answered to himself grinning and patted himself on the back.
“My turn again... I spy.....”
“M-Max?”
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hoenn-hakase · 6 years
Text
TPP Bronze: Day 8. The End
Where we last saw Fifer, she had just become Champion for both Kohto and Kanto and had begun to explore the lengths of her domain as she'd hardly knew anything about Kanto. Prof. Koa gave her a Cave Pass that allowed her to go through Cerulean Cave where she found and fought her toughest opponent yet: TPP's own, AJ. Unable to beat him, she returned to Kanto's mainland where she seems to be seeking the greatest treasure of all: Her Purpose.
We start the day bright and early in Vermilion City. Having never been in a port city, but having been in a train station, Fifer sure wanted to check out the docks. What would be found down there? A big fancy boat? A rare pokemon in hiding? A gateway to HELL? Well.... APPARENTLY! D8!
Going down the stairs to where the loading area normally would be, Fifer instead stepped out of the port and into the Glitch Worl!!! Which bizarrely enough, also seems to be the source of the Plague o' Rocks that's been slowly trying to encase Kohto for some time now. A stray NPC tries to ask her if she came from Johto and admires her rare Pokemon he wonders can be found there. Glitch Worl seems to be a pretty enclosed space, having the doors blocked and buildings too fragmented to hold anything. No treasure to be found... So Fifer heads back to the Lost Boy and decides to ask the.... clone? Yes, she didn't notice at first, but there's a girl in blue who turned toward Fifer when she tried to get the girl's attention, and... SHE LOOKS JUST LIKE HER???
The girl suddenly takes her through another doorway, (down the rabbit hole indeed...) where she found herself suddenly TRAPPED in a mess of world fragments and somewhere in the distance, a horn blows, signalling that they're being taken away somewhere. Even as she can feel the "ship" moving, she eventually manages to kick the door open and stepped out to find... she was still in the same place. In front of the fragmented gym of the town she departed from anyway. How strange. Talking to another girl this time, or what she THOUGHT was another girl, turned out to be some copy of her as well and the pair of Fifers decided to shove her back into the pocket dimension to seal her away.
Wriggling out the side door this time, Fifer seemed to be quite put out with this place, and these... "twins" and decided to see if she could just fly back to Cerulean City. Somehow... that worked? She eventually went back to do a bit of a test, and certainly the port still lead into the Glitch Worl. But she could leave it just as easily with Fly. Having learned this, she heads back to the League, presumably to talk with the council about barring off the docks until they figure out how to prevent people from falling into The Void.
After dealing with those bugs, Fifer decides to go beat up some real bugs and does a long grind session in the Viridian Forest where she stumbles across a fisherman who is mad about someone telling him there was a good fishing spot there, but only bugs!
Feeling her training is complete, it's time to rechallenge AJ! And fail. ... Multiple times. So instead it's BACK to training! Off to the League to again get the help and advice of her fellow League members. There's something troubling about all this, I'm sure. AJ is known destroyer. Has he only been going easy on her?
Things only turn weirder (and Glitchier? Come on, Bronze you were holding up so well....;o; ) as she has a total WHITE out
Perhaps the answer isn't just in sheer brute strength, but something... more. Remembering Sabrina's words in how the power of the bond Fifer has with her Pokemon, the love they share, is more powerful than anything, Fifer appears to be working on strengthening her bond with Lucy
Working her way through the LITERAL Maze of Trees, Fifer finds a hidden house that seems to be some kind of Game Corner... Only there's no games inside the building. Instead a shady man tells her CONGRATS on her excellent sleuthing skills in being able to find the Secret Room. His friend then proceeds to give her AS MANY MASTER BALLS AS SHE WANTS 8O 8O 8O The chat proceeds to get so many, the game goes into a sort of "hyper mode" where the music, text, and character movements all suddenly move at an accelerated pace to speed things up XD
Having been deemed a Master of Glitchcraft, Fifer decides to test her strength elsewhere. She eventually heads to the Kanto Power Plant, where she walked through the door into the Old Couple's house in the heart of Deep Cave. Stepping out of the house proved she was, in fact, still in the cave, so it wasn't that they were removed to the Power Plant, but that she figured out how to create a portal of her own. Digging her way out, she returned to the Power Plant entrance just fine. Magic~ 8D <3
Fifer seems very excited to discover such powers and immediately decides she MUST try this elsewhere to give herself confidence in this new ability. She returns to the Glitch Worl and proves she doesn't even need to Fly to leave this weird place, as she can just step back through the doorway she created to enter it. Entering and leaving Vermilion City Gym also appears to form a gateway, giving her a shortcut back to Memoria Town.
A new plan forges as she seems to piece things together, eventually setting up a gateway at the entrance to Dark Tunnel that would lead her directly into Cerulean Cave so she could bypass the guards and go more quickly after AJ. In the end it was a long, and hard fought battle but with a bit of luck and strategizing, we FINALLY CLAIM VICTORY! >O
AJ actually doesn't have much to say (not to US anyway XD) and just as mysteriously as he appeared to Fifer.... he vanished. Leaving one to wonder if he was ever truly there... The credits roll and the Chat cries and Fifer... Well Fifer managed to warp into the game's true finale. A mysterious lookout spot where she could see all of Kohto through a lense and found --?!! waiting for her with a happy Congrats on her completing all there is to do in their tiny home. She also meets with Freako, a strange man who thanks for playing "the game". One of Koa's aides is even there, saying the professor sends his regards. Everyone's so proud of her ;o;
As she talks to all the people, and takes in the sights, her ItemFinder starts going off. A... a treasure? It doesn't appear to be in the building, but stepping outside reveals the "lookout" is in a house by the sea. It... It's Cerulean Cape! I mean, Enders Isle. Fifer continues to look around the clearing it sits in, thoroughly cut off from the rest of civilization. The ItemFinder starts to react to something outside now... she follows... She follows until she finds herself back in the gateway to Cerulean Cave and a soft mist fills the area. The Voices leave, some sending hearts and well wishes as they do so. The game ends.
This was long but still kind of fun. I think if I do this for the next run, I'll start doing it from Day 1 so hopefully I won't be SO far behind as I started this when it was almost over. I know my points of interest are kind of wonky, but I hope I could at least make these info-dumps amusing at least. Thanks! <3
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Okay, well since no one asked about it, here's a few bonus notes and lore ideas to come up while I was going through all this.
The PokeGear was back in full swing this run, and we had several numbers calling us at all hours of the day, but the ones that stood out to me the most were: Youngster Zach, Camper Nate, Lass Dana, and PokeFan Beverly. I suppose given the chat's reactions whenever one of them called had something to do with it. (Dana is Bae though apparently)
I'm not sure if it was a bug or what triggered it, but while we were in Viridian Forest, Mom called after EVERY. SINGLE. TRAINER. to tell us she went and bought something and it's in the PC. Whether she was pushing for PC use or simply seems to be gaining a bit of a shopping addiction due to just how much dough Fifer's been raking in through her battle and treasure hunting skills, it was really funny. I really do wonder if the same phone call just kept getting triggered even though she only meant to call us once, or if there actually was a new item in the PC for every time she called, but we'll never know.
For anyone curious, I believe I saw we had 171 Master Balls over the course of Bronze. According to Kelcyus: "and most Masterball'd mons: Master Alakazam, Master Golbat, Master Graveler, Master Goldeen and Master Tangela which was caught with the original masterball."
Speaking of, Kelcyus made a comic about the incident, but I didn't actually notice it since I was more or less skimming over events in my vid watching so while skimming I didn't see anything out of place with a trainer battle and the continuing on down Route 9 toward the Power Plant though knowing that the area was off limits now explains SO MUCH about the stuff that happened in that area. Like the gateways to different areas because nothing was programmed in place of the Power Plant and Rock Tunnel and so forth. If I calculated correctly, the Edna OH SHIT incident happened back on Day 7. While it's hilarious that after turning into a Magicarp, Edna accuses us of hacking, the truth is, the gate house to the underground between Cerulean City and Vermilion City was meant to block the path to Route 9. Instead it was about two spaces over, creating a one space gap for Fiver to simply walk through and then use Cut on the tree as normal.
While I keep making jokes about the Plague o Rocks that seems to be tormenting Kohto (that one village I never got the name for, Acre Forest, Cerulean Cape, ect all having the large square boulders blocking off places for seemingly no reason) and then finding them EVERYWHERE in the Glitch Worl, and the stray NPC still talking about Johto, (as well as a few others like in Saffon and in the Route 9 forbidden zone) I can't help but wonder if the random rocks are Glitchwork or actually (from a lore prospective) actually from the remnants from Brown when Johto was basically buried due to (I thiiiiink?) an earthquake. Seeing how Kohto and Kanto are directly connected, and both areas have these rocks to some extent, and Johto was basically destroyed, I wonder how far flung the effects of that disaster struck. o.O;
And that's all I can think of at the moment. ^ w ^
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Text
How it may have gone - Humble Beginnings
A fic taking place in the marauders era. While the political climate seems to head to a conflict, James, Sirius, Remus and Peter are still just teenagers. Dealing with typical teenage problems.
But this year their little group grows. Who would have known that more prefects would be a good thing?
Masterlist
Seven: New Year's Eve II
I slept in the next morning and called the Crickets right after breakfast. Mrs Cricket told me that Crick had lost his phone privileges and that he was also grounded. That did not sound good for our plans. I kindly asked if she knew whether she and her husband would still be mad at New Year’s Eve, and through a chuckle she said that they didn’t know yet. She did tell me that I didn’t need to worry too much, but she couldn’t make any promises. 
I relayed that information to Potter in a quick note, in which I also told him and the other boys that most of my plans had been cancelled but his answer that came only fifteen minutes later only told me to keep him up to date. No mention of any kind of invitation to join them in their shenanigans. Something about his note was off, I thought. It was funny and polite but it seemed to … correct. I wondered if I had offended him by getting involved in his argument the other night. Milla, whose owl arrived that afternoon, would’ve probably known whether I had stepped on his toes but I didn’t want to burden her with my petty problems while she was on “the best holiday ever”. Instead I asked her what she had gotten Remus for Christmas. 
That evening I mostly spent on the couch with my parents and Felix. 
The next three days were rather uneventful. After deciding that the dress I had worn to Slughorn’s Christmas party and on Christmas Eve at my grandparents would probably get ruined at a noisy and messy pub I had organised some jeans, a skirt and several t-shirts and jackets on my bed to figure out my outfit for New Year’s.  As I couldn’t decide at all those clothes just travelled from my bed to my little armchair and back every day. 
We fell into the routine of having breakfast together, playing board games – Felix won every single one of them – and watching a lot of TV. As much as I loved my family, I’d had better Christmas breaks. Milla’s letters informed me about the fact that none of the boys she’d met in Austria came even close to Remus and that she had gotten him all kinds of chocolate, a snow globe and a warm, woolly cardigan in his favourite colour.  
She wasn’t sure whether he’d be offended at that because most of his clothes were fairly old and distressed. I wrote back saying that a cardigan was a cardigan and his favourite colour was a good choice. Besides, I thought but didn’t put down on paper, he had blushed at the mention of her gift and smiled. I reckoned he was rather touched by her spending some money on something he liked and needed rather than just getting him the goofy snow globe. It was high time those two had a heart to heart and got their feelings out there. They’d be a great couple. 
I told myself that the boys had planned this holiday as an elongated boys’ night and didn’t that I’d only be in the way if they had invited me. Especially, if they planned any more “normal Tuesdays’. 
The morning of the 31st I moved my clothes back onto the back, stared at them for a bit, was uninspired and decided that it wasn’t too early to call Crick and ask if he was going to the party with me. 
“Cricket” 
“Jonas?” 
“The very same. That you, Jette? 
“ Indeed it is. I was wondering whether your brother got his phone privileges back.” 
“Guess, you don’t mean Tristan?” He laughed. 
“I was thinking of Crick.” 
“Well, he’s out with Dad and I don’t know when he’ll be back. But I would be willing to take a message.” 
“Oh, would you just have him call me back? My parents only agreed to let me go to that party because he was going to walk me there and back. If he doesn’t get to go I need to come up with a plan B.” 
“I see. Mum?...Mum!...”It’s Jette on the phone. She wants to know whether Nate goes to the Raven tonight…He’s supposed to walk her home…Right, mum. She’s fifteen…uhu…hmh…thanks! 
Mum says she and Dad talked about it and they’ll let him go but he doesn’t know yet. He’ll probably call you this afternoon and you’re supposed to act very delighted. But there’s no need for a plan B.” 
“Tell your parents, they’re the best, yeah? And thanks for getting that done for me.” 
“Anytime. See you tonight, then?” 
“Tonight. Bye. 
“Bye.” 
I hung up the phone and skipped back to my room to write to Godric’s Hollow. It was a quick, barely legible letter in which I mainly stated that I didn’t need to make use of Potter’s kind offer. I could have told them a whole lot more and asked when exactly they planned to show up at the pub but since they hadn’t reached out to me, I didn’t really feel like it. 
Crick called somewhere around four in the afternoon and told me he was allowed to go to the Raven. As instructed I reacted with delight and we made plans. I would walk over to Crick’s around nine o’clock and then we’d take the pathway to the pub. The Crickets lived at the very edge of Marlowe’s Creek, closest to Godric’s Hollow, but the walk would still take us at least half an hour. We had briefly thought about going earlier but we both figured there was no reason to arrive hours before midnight. 
After everything was organised I ran back into my room and chugged the skirt back into its drawer. Thirty minutes – or more – in a snowy December night was not calling for skirts and tights. The rest of my legwear options were all very similar: Jeans in various shades of black and grey. In the end I opted for black and decided to wear my new charcoal grey “The Who’- shirt that one of my cousins had given me for Christmas. I would pretend to be cool, rather than pretty tonight. I put the rest of the clothes back in the various drawers and cupboards and waited for it to be time to go to my first real New Year’s Eve party. 
It took forever until mum called us for dinner. In honour of dad’s Dutch family she usually made appleflap for a midnight snack. It was one of the best variations on donuts anybody had ever thought of. Baked apples and donuts and powdered sugar. Since I wasn’t going to be home to wish them all a happy new year and munch down on way too many appleflaps she had decided to fry them in advance and serve them as dessert which I was chuffed about. After we were done eating and chatting and eating some more I got dressed, packed my back and spent quite some time in the bathroom to deal with my hair and face. 
I looked at myself in the mirror. Usually I never wore my hair down. It was always crafted into a fairly impressive bun on the top of my head to not be in the way. Now, that I looked at my hip-long dark brown locks, all brushed and shiny I thought that it would add a little umph to me if I had hair to swing around. A high ponytail it was. 
And to that I added my usual make-up of mascara and dark lipstick, though I went for a dark maroonish red instead of brown. The result made me rather proud. I looked old enough to go out on New Year’s Eve. I looked cool.  
“Don’t you dare go home without Nate, you hear me. I know that you’re responsible enough to not get in trouble but I don’t trust any drunken teenagers or twenty-somethings”, mum said for the third time. 
“Why would I go home without him. It’s a pretty boring walk.” 
“She’s just worried, cause you’re growing up. Cut her some slag, kid”, dad chuckled, while hugging me. “You look very nice. Don’t drive those boys too crazy, huh.” We both laughed, while Felix rolled his eyes and mum got flustered. 
“Don’t give her ideas, Wim!” 
“She’s allowed to have fun, right? Calm down, honey, all will be well.” He kissed her on the top of her head and pulled her to his side. I hugged Felix one last time and promised I’d made sure to wish everybody a happy new year from him, waved at my parents and quickly ran out the door, just in case mum changed her mind last minute. 
Generally, it took about ten to fifteen minutes to get to Crick’s house and generally, it didn’t bother me but the wind was fairly icy and the coat I had chosen to wear was not necessarily made for winter. But it looked great. When I finally rang the doorbell at the Crickets’ I was already shaking. 
Mrs Cricket opened and gave me on of her hyper-happy smiles before pulling me into a hug and the house, leading me into the livingroom. 
“Run! She’s gone absolutely mental!”, Crick yelled before we had even entered the room and tried to pull me right back to the door. 
“No way to speak to your mother, young man. Not after she was generous enough to let you go to a party with alcohol after what you did last time you saw beer.” 
“Can’t we at least agree that you overreact a little?”, Crick asked with a pained reaction. On the couch to our right I saw Tristan, Alanna and Jonas laughing behind their hands, trying hard not to make any sounds. I tried to silently ask them what was going on, but they all just shook their heads. 
“Now, I’m sure Jette won’t mind me taking a few pictures. To commemorate your first big party.” 
“Uhhmm… okay?” This I had not expected.  
“Why would we need to commemorate this?” The couch erupted in laughter. 
“Oh shut up, you!”, Mrs Cricket chuckled and went to fetch her camera. 
“Ugh!”, moaned Crick and sank into a chair. “This has been going on all day. She’s gone mental, I tell you.” I took off my jacket and sat down. 
“Why are you so happy?” 
“Because this has been going on all day. Since you called this morning to ask whether you should go with someone else mum’s been all flustered”, Tristan explained. 
“I think she’s rather proud that your parents trust Nate this much. And maybe she has a slight case of empty-nest-syndrome. None of us had to take pictures when we first spent New Year’s somewhere else”, Jonas chipped in. 
“She’s so cute!”, giggled Alanna. 
“It’s not cute, Al. It’s annoying and frustrating and takes up a lot of time”, Crick hissed when his mother returned. 
“There we are, lovelies. Won’t take long. Now, how about one picture of you alone, Nate, and one of Jette alone and one of you together and one with Jonas. He’s going, too, after all.” 
“Why do you need four pictures of us not doing anything?”, Crick whined, while the sofa had gone back to stifling laughter. 
“Don’t be a spoilsport! The longer you argue, the longer you’ll stay here…” 
“Ugh, fine!” Crick got up and stood in front of the decorated window, not looking happy. 
“Come on, smile!” 
“Mum!” 
“Smile for me, Nathan.” Crick pulled his face into a weird grimace and his mother snapped a shot. Then, she waved me and Jonas to join Crick, she took another picture and in the end she took one of me alone, in which I was very uncomfortable and understood Crick’s irritation. This was not necessary and pretty strange. 
“See, that wasn’t so bad. Now come here, I’ll give you a warming charm.” 
“Brilliant idea, Mrs Cricket. Thank you!”, I cheered while she waved her wand over me. We both put on our jackets, wished the giggling sofa and a grinning Mr Cricket a happy new year and left. 
“I’m sorry, Libby, I don’t know what got into her”, Crick started as soon as we had reached the street. 
“No big deal.” 
“Still…I’ve already made an arse out of myself once this week I didn’t need another round of humiliation.” 
“You’re mum is the sweetest. No need to be humiliated.” 
“Tristan said your night was pretty eventful after I left.” 
“Well, yeah, Potter got into it with a troll of a muggle. Thought they’d throw punches but he managed to talk the idiot down.” 
“Did he seriously snog some 21-year old?” 
“I didn’t ask her how old she was. But yeah.” He nodded and trotted in silence. 
“Did they make a lot of fun of me?”, Crick asked after a few minutes. 
“Fun of you?” 
“For getting pissed to the point of no return before eight.” 
“No. They didn’t make fun of you.” 
“Please! It’s their job to badmouth others!” 
“I will never understand why you can’t stand them. Potter said he had expected you to last longer and that it was a weak outing. The others agreed. That was it. Nobody laughed at you, nobody made fun of you.” 
“Weak outing, huh. D’you think that, too?” 
“No… I was just confused by it. And worried. Didn’t seem like you.” 
“Worried? You were worried about me?” 
“Yes, I was. When Tristan came back and said he’d take you home, I figured you felt pretty miserable. And you’re parents would be fairly mad, So, I worried.” 
“Hmmhmm” 
The question why he had gotten so sloshed burnt on the tip of my tongue but I didn’t know how to ask it. 
“Jonas said you were drowning your sorrows that night.” No reaction he just looked at the snow covered path that led us through a field. A little to our right was the forest, right to our left the creek. 
“I didn’t know you were unhappy. You okay? Anything I can do?” He smiled. 
“No, everything’s fine. I was just…the group was…and…” He stopped, took a moment and started again. “I might have been thinking that the Market was our thing. You, me, Tristan, Jonas and Milla. We didn’t even let Felix come. But Alanna got herself invited and then there was dancing and then Potter, Black, Lupin and Pettigrew tagged along.” 
“So, what?” 
“It’s our thing, Jette! Without us going to the market it’s not really Christmas.” 
“I know! But it doesn’t have to be exactly the same every year, does it? I mean Alanna and Tristan seem serious and very slowly approach appropriate wedding-age. She might end up a part of your family, why not have her join in on the traditions. And the dancing is just as much an addition as the beer tent or the rum-spritzed hot chocolate. If nothing ever changed or evolved we’d end up at the merry-go-round every year.” I smiled at him. 
“To be honest I’d love it if in like twenty years we’d still do this after the holidays. Each of us with the husbands and wives, children of our own… You can’t expect it to be the same forever.” 
“I’m not expecting it to be the same forever. And I’m fine with wives and husbands joining in.” 
“But?” 
“But Potter and his friends are not wives and husbands.” 
“You’re not seriously telling me that you drank yourself off your trolley because those blokes were there?” 
“I didn’t plan to throw up!” 
“I know”, I whispered. Shouldn’t have brought it up.  
“Point is, I made an arse out myself over nothing, and I’m not feeling too good about it. And it didn’t help that I imagined all of you pissing yourselves laughing over how dumb I’ve been.” 
“We didn’t do that.” 
“Thanks.” He put his arm around my shoulder and kissed the top of my head like he always did. “Now, let’s talk about something more fun.” 
“Have you heard any further details on Jonas’ little vamp from that night?” I looked up at him in pure excitement. 
“You mean Valerie?” 
“I don’t know, do I?” 
“Think you do.” 
Apparently, Valerie was a Ravenclaw whose grandparents lived in Godric’s Hollow and who had had an eye on Jonas for a while. She stayed with her grandparents for the entire holidays  and was friends with a friend of a friend’s of Jonas’ which meant that they would run into each other at the preparty that they both went to. 
I asked whether Crick thought that it would get serious between the two of them but he shook his head. In his mind Jonas was still very much under Elaine’s spell. 
“He’s talked about her over the holidays. Tried to make it sound casual but it wasn’t. She’s really done it to him.”  
We tried to think up an elaborate scheme to get Jonas and Elaine together and were pretty surprised when we found ourselves in front of Morgana’s Raven.  
The music was pumping through the air, vibrating the ground and entering my body. Some people stood in the shadows smoking and drinking all kinds of potion looking drinks. We looked at each other and Crick gave me a knowing grin. 
“Have at it then. One quick cigarette.” 
“That’s why you’re the best!”, I grinned back at him and found a spot under the little pavilion next to the entrance. I lit my smoke and looked around. I had only ever seen the Raven when it was closed during the day, this was the first time I got to actually experience it. And an experience it was. 
The building itself had probably been built in the 1800s, white with brown beams and the big sign over the double door reading Morgana’s Raven in black gothic letters, two ravens at both sides. There were statues and images of ravens all over the little front garden that also had three tables with benches around them and a bar table. I spotted some giant kibbles next to the doors and figured that they had flowers or other plants in them during the spring and summer months. 
The tables, benches, pavilion and doors were all black as the night and gave the whole building – despite the white walls – a spooky and haunted vibe. I loved it. The fact that it was an all magical pub and invisible to muggles only made it all more important, cool and exclusive. 
Crick watched me watch the place and laughing people with a vague smile. 
“You look amazing by the way. Love your hair like that”, he said in a soft voice when I was done taking in all the impressions. I felt myself blushing. I never blushed. 
“Thanks…” I looked him up and down. He had cut his hair again and wore a black dress shirt with blue jeans under his winter coat. 
“You look quite dapper yourself, if I may say so”, I regained my emotional balance, smiling up at him. 
“I hoped you’d be impressed.” 
“And impressed I am. Wanna go in?”  
“Yeah, let’s do i…” 
“Oi, Goods! Mind if we join?” A group of four approached us, cigarettes in hand. 
Remus was the first to pull me into a short hug, then the rest followed.  
“Cricket!”, Remus shook Crick’s hand. 
“Glad to hear you got to come. My parents would have grounded me for ages… How bad was it?”, Pettigrew said while shaking Crick’s hand. Crick didn’t seem all too happy to see them but was surprised by their genuine approach. 
“I was grounded all week. No phone. No TV. No fun. Mum told me this morning that I could go.” 
“So, de Witt said”, Potter answered. “Wait, no fun? I thought de Witt was supposed to hang out with you every day.” 
“That was the plan. But I kind or ruined that by getting smashed…” 
“So, what have you been doing the past couple of days” Black looked at me. 
“Oh you know, enjoyed the time with my family, tidied my room, organised Christmas presents…” 
“Why didn’t you tell us you had nobody to go to? Could’ve come over to ours”, Potter asked with the most confused face I had ever seen on him. 
“Euhm… I thought you were mad at me for interfering in you fight… Dunno…Didn’t want to make you any angrier…” 
„Mad at you?“ 
„You got involved in a fight?!“ Crick stared at me in utter shock. 
“No”, Black answered for me “James here got into a fight and Goods defended him.” 
We quickly told Crick the whole story about the giant man and his cheating girlfriend. 
“Thanks, man”, Crick said, one hand on Potter’s shoulder. 
“Come again?” 
“For making sure she didn’t get herself in any trouble. I appreciate it.” 
“Sure.” Potter turned to me. “Why on earth did you think I’d be angry?” 
“Just.. your letter seemed so… polite. I didn’t trust it…” 
“And you hate pissing people of which means that you always assume you do”, Crick added. All the boys chuckled for a second. 
“Look we’ve crashed your traditions last time already”, Black said throwing his fag to the ground and stepping on it. “Won’t do that again. Find us at midnight, yeah?” He waved his friends to follow him and they all went inside. 
“See, there not at all bad.” 
“Guess so. They didn’t invite themselves to tag along all night. And anybody who keeps you from getting slapped is a good person in my book.” 
“You do realise I can look after myself?” 
“Yeah, yeah…” 
He pulled me by the hood of my coat and led me to the double doors to finally get to the party we had both been looking forward to for weeks. 
The inside of the raven was even better than the outside. The whole place was covered in knee high fog that I suspected was conjured with the help of a well-executed sculptile charm. For all I could tell the floor was made of black marble, there were no windows, they had real crows and ravens flying all over the place in the high ceiling that was completely covered in black satin. The walls displayed different paintings and renderings of Morgana, Merlin, Avalon and Excalibur, the first goblin sword that was ever kept by wizards and – if I remembered correctly – one of the reasons for the goblin riots. 
The room was gigantic and hexagon shaped, a bar at every other wall. Directly opposite the double door we had just come through a silver podium had been erected on which a band played live music. I had to do a double take but it really was Baba Yaga. One of the hottest new wizarding bands of this year.  
Crick and I both squealed at the idea that we would see them live before we remembered that we were very cool teenagers that went to concerts of popular bands all the time. 
“Tickets!” A woman roughly the age of my parents stood next to the door and held out her hand. We put our tickets in it, she took out her wand and mumbled something, then a silver raven appeared on both our left wrists. 
“Have fun!” The woman smiled a lot wider and warmer than I had expected and pushed us into the room, to let the next group of people in.  
Despite the 100 or 200 people in the room it wasn’t hot, but warm enough to want out of the jackets. We through them in the pile on one of the window sills and let the crowd sent us to one of the bars. 
“Fancy anything in particular”, Crick yelled in my ear over the music. I studied the menu that was written out in silver chalk on a huge blackboard. They had the typical wizarding drinks like Fire Whiskey, Giggle Water and Butterbeer. But I also spotted my mum’s favourite drink: Daisy draught and several kinds of mead that were all listed above an array of cocktails I had never heard of before. 
“Think I’ll have the Daisy Draught”, I finally said. 
“Like mother like daughter”, Crick laughed and ordered the draught for me and a Raven Mead for himself. I was going through my handbag to get the 15 sickles I owed him but he wouldn’t take them.  
“My treat”, he said. “Cause I left you alone all this time.” 
Drink in hand we fought our way through the crowd and to the stage where Baba Yaga now performed their number one hit Soul Eater and we went absolutely crazy. 
Jonas and his friends – among which vamp Valerie – arrived roughly an hour after us, positively inebriated and up for a good time. Jonas instantly found us and forced us to follow him to the bar where he treated us to shots of Gigglewater and a Glass of Master’s Brew each. It tasted like a holiday in Tahiti and I decided to never have more than one of those. The alcohol was not detectable although the menu informed me that there was rum, firewhiskey, gillywater and gold leave brandy in it. This was one of those drinks that my dad referred to as dangerously unsuspicious and headache inducing. But it was so good. 
Jonas introduced us to his friends, some of which I knew from my own common room or the great hall and some of which I had never seen before. Valerie was the sweetest girl I had ever met which absolutely clashed with her mysterious ‘come-hither’- appearance. She was just a year older than me and told me how jealous she was that I got to spend my time with so many gorgeous boys. 
“First you grow up with all the Cricket boys and get to be the apple of their eye – from all I hear – and then you work your way into that group around Potter. Please, tell me you’ve snogged at least one of them!” I admitted that I hadn’t and hadn’t even thought about it which led Valerie to hit her head against the wooden bar top. 
“How is that even possible? Do you have eyes?” 
“I do. And they work fine.” 
“Are you into girls? I mean those girlfriends of you don’t look too shabby either.” 
“Nope, not into girls. I used to have a crush on Crick when I was in second or third year but that’s been over forever.” 
“Which one’s Crick?” 
“Nathaniel. Nate. You probably have classes with him, right?” 
“Right, right… Why don’t you call him Nate?” 
I explained to her that Milla had a phase when she was about four or five years old where she would refer to everybody by their last names. She herself had become Scibbyderson, I was Devit and Crick became Crick. Why only his botched last name stuck as a nickname I didn’t know but it was how he’d gotten it. 
Valerie leaned in even closer and yanked my ear to her mouth. “You know Jonas well, yeah?” 
“I guess…” 
“You think I have a chance with him?” 
“Didn’t you already take him home? I’d say that constitutes… 
“”I mean in the long run”, she interrupted me. I bit my lip. 
“Honestly, that’s not the kind of stuff I talk to him about. I reckon Crick might know, but it’s most likely that Jonas takes Tristan as his confidant. Sorry.” 
“It’s just that I think he doesn’t fancy me. He doesn’t seem interested in me.” 
As if he’d heard us talk about him Jonas threw one arm around each of us. 
“Ladies! Time to dance dance dance! Let’s not waste the last fifteen minutes of this year standing at a bar sipping stale drinks and talking about nail polish” we both shot very disapproving looks at him “let’s spend it laughing and twirling and shouting and celebrating.” 
He dragged us into the middle of the dance floor where we also found Crick and the rest of Jonas’ group who all instantly welcomed us in their little circle. Given that I had never talked to any of these people aside form Jonas and Crick I felt surprisingly at home. Older students didn’t necessarily give younger ones the time of day, so I their welcoming manner was baffling at first, but then I realised that I had spent most of this school year with older students – either Crick, Magnus and Toby or the Potter-posse and realised that maybe I had just let down my guard and was more approachable. 
About two minutes before midnight Crick took my hand and followed the moving crowd outside. I had neither an idea where my jacket was nor time to grab it and the cold December air hit me like a wall of ice. But I didn’t complain. The flyers for the party had advertised “the biggest firework display in the history of Morgana’s Raven, sponsored by Dr Filibuster’s Fabulous Fireworks” and I really didn’t want to miss that. 
In the last minute before midnight the lady who had taken our tickets conjured a giant grandfather clock, made out of silver, encrusted with Ravens and knights from the round table to let us all count down together. I reached for my cigarette case and inhaled the last smoke of this year. Crick noticed my shaking and put an arm around me. 
“10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1… Happy New Year!”  
Light and colours and explosions everywhere around me. I turned to hug Crick and wish him a happy new year to then enjoy what had to be the grandest firework extravaganza ever and then everything went wrong. 
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recentanimenews · 5 years
Text
Chris Sabat on Vegeta's Fear, Goku's Selfishness, and Talking to Himself
Editor's Note: This is a republication of a feature by Nate Ming that originally appeared on Crunchyroll News on 9/12/18.
---
A few years ago, I had the privilege of speaking with voice actor Christopher Sabat. I guess the interview was supposed to be about the then-upcoming Dragon Ball Xenoverse, but I mostly spent that interview talking to him about his favorite moments voice acting, missed opportunities, and farting around with Bill Zoeker.
  Now, with three classic Dragon Ball Z movies returning to theaters, I was able to get on the phone with Chris Sabat and not only discuss his time with them, but how it feels having Dragon Ball back in the spotlight and bigger than ever before. From scriptwriting to carrying on conversations with himself, from the early days of DBZ's English dub to the upcoming Dragon Ball Super: Broly, Chris had plenty to share.
  Thanks for doing this interview! First off, how've you been? How are things?
  CHRISTOPHER SABAT: Oh my god. It's been such an insane year. Adding these movies into the already-crazy Dragon Ball year I'm having right now... dude. I cannot explain to you how much I fantasize about taking a time machine back to 1999 armed with all the knowledge I have now, all of Dragon Ball Z, because all those fans from 1999 are somehow twenty years older, and it's just... bonkers.
  Yeah, we've talked about that before, right before Resurrection F came out, how the people who watched Dragon Ball Z when it first came to the US as kids now have kids of their own. I mean, when I went and saw it in theaters, there was like a bunch of adult fans there, and they brought their kids with them to see it, and they were having the time of their lives--it was like a spiritual experience for me.
  It's really funny you mention that, because this morning I got a call from Sean Schemmel (Goku's voice actor), and--okay. Sean calls me, and he leaves these really long messages, and I rarely listen to them. So I just end up calling him back, 'cause I hate listening to voicemail, 'cause why wouldn't you just send a text? So anyway, he calls me and it sounds like he was telling me this right before he went to sleep, and he goes:
  "Chris... it just dawned on me... there's... people. There's... kids. And they watch Dragon Ball Super, like right now! They're watching it on TV! Which means... twenty years! THEY'RE GONNA BE ADULTS AGAIN! WE'RE GONNA HAVE TO DO THIS ALL OVER AGAIN!"
  It's true, though!
You're here forever.
  Yeah, it's never going away.
    So, I wanted to bring up the special-event Dragon Ball Z movies--well, two movies and one TV special--that are coming to theaters. Starting with that TV special, Bardock: The Father of Goku, you did a lot more than just voices. In this special (and the other TV special, The History of Trunks), you did voice direction, and then for the first Broly movie, you adapted the script for the dub. Can you tell us a bit about what it's like being on both sides of the mic, some of the challenges you faced?
  Well, I definitely learned the hard way on Broly: The Legendary Super Saiyan, just how hard it is to write. There are so many people in this business--actors, directors, engineers and so forth--who are like "it can't be that hard to write these scripts!" I was certainly in that category when I took on the job of adapting The Legendary Super Saiyan, and I'll be honest, I got about halfway into that script, and realized: (long sigh) you have to do these things, you have to write these things, on your computer. Your computer is connected to the internet. The internet has way more interesting stuff on it than what you're doing, and so it's impossible to stay focused!
  Like, it was really hard for me to focus myself and write that movie, and I just put it together. Dedicated writers have a special skill: it's called "being able to get things done." [I type this as I check Twitter for the tenth time in ten minutes.] It was hard, man. I think I wrote probably 60% of it and then I had to ask Eric Vale (Trunks), who was also one of the writers at the time, and went "hey dude, can you help me out with this? I don't think I'm gonna finish it."
  So there's a lot of things to writing that you don't initially realize, it's like you're uncovering these layers upon layers. It's kinda like reading a story and doing a sudoku puzzle at the same time, it's a mystery how some of these parts get put together because you'll just see a line and you understand what it means and what its place is in the story, but then the biggest drag is having to script all of the reactions: any time someone turns their head or opens their mouth, or they're scared or screaming or punches or fights you have to script that out and laboriously write out every single detail. I kinda realized that directing is more my thing compared to writing, that was a serious lesson I learned.
  Regarding the movies, what were your favorite projects to work on?
  I'd say The History of Trunks and Broly: The Legendary Super Saiyan were definitely my favorites. History of Trunks because I'm a huge Trunks fan--they coulda made ten Future Trunks movies and I would have loved them all, there's just so much in that universe to tell stories with, so many paths you could have explored. I want to know more of what it was like for Trunks growing up, the epic struggles and battles he went through.
      Broly: The Legendary Super Saiyan was great because, I mean, like I said it was my first foray into writing, but specifically because it's the first time you ever really get to see Vegeta lose his shit. At that point in time, when we were dubbing that, aside from when he lost to Frieza, there was never a moment when Vegeta didn't have total confidence going into something. This was a case, though, where everything is going on around him and he's just all "what? who? what's going on? no! why?! he's too strong!" It wasn't in his personality, and those were some key moments for me while working on the movies.
  It's funny how you naturally ended up on my next question. In the first Broly movie and in Fusion Reborn, we get to see Vegeta kicked around--physically, of course, but I mostly mean emotionally and mentally. You generally don't see real fear take over for Vegeta, like real, paralyzing fear. How does it feel getting to portray so many sides of this character, who usually presents as this toxic tough guy but has a whole lot buried underneath?
  Dude, that has been the biggest gift of all characters, is to play Vegeta. This guy who you think is gonna be this one-sided, sniveling kinda one-note villain character, who ends up becoming--I think--the most endearing character in the show. There's a reason you always see Vegeta paired up with Goku, because I just don't think Goku is as fun without Vegeta. Goku's just--I think--a rather unrealistic character, he's a bizarre "hero" in a lot of ways, especially when you start analyzing how he really was versus the way we were kind of instructed how to rewrite Goku back in the earliest days of Dragon Ball Z. When you dip into what Goku is, what his real character is, he's absolutely not a traditional "hero" type, he's a very selfish and kind of thoughtless character.
  "Yeah, let's have a tournament!" "Goku, trillions of people could die." "Yeah, but it'll be fun!"
  Exactly! And I think that's one of the few times--I mean, I love Super, and I especially love that moment in Super where you finally get a picture of how Goku's selfish behavior can really can affect people. Yeah, it always works out, luckily, but he's never afraid to let his friends and family suffer for what he wants.
  But anyway, Vegeta, you see so much about him over the series and the movies, and he's just the best character to play. He's sarcastic and gets to say mean things, which is really fun to do as an actor, because Vegeta is like that friend that you have who says the things that you really wish you could say, but are kind of afraid to, y'know? The friend of yours who kind of embarrasses you, but you're kinda happy to have him around when you really need to get something done? But then he becomes a family man, and proves that he can be a good father and a good husband and a good man, and what a remarkable shift we've had after all this time with him.
  Cartoon characters rarely do that, y'know? The Hulk's always gonna be the Hulk, and Captain America's gonna be Captain America, but Vegeta's a really interesting guy, and we get to see all sides of him.
  In Broly: The Legendary Super Saiyan, Piccolo and Vegeta have some great, very intense back-and-forth. Now, you voice both those characters--how did you approach that? Did you just record a conversation with yourself all at once, or record all of each characters' lines individually?
  For the sake of the characters, I had to make sure they stay consistent. I always record one, then the other. I usually started with Piccolo, then Vegeta, and then would go back to make adjustments on specific lines after it was all done. I love getting to do this--when you're talking to yourself, you can craft some of the best, most natural-sounding dialogue because you know what's coming next, you know what the "other person" is going to say. I'm harder on myself, I work harder with myself when I'm working with myself as opposed to working with other actors.
    It sounds simple, but it's not, and I second-guess all my decisions and thank goodness I have Rawly Pickens, he's been working at Okratron 5000 with me for a billion years, and he's actually directing most of Dragon Ball Super with us and he and I have worked together forever. It's gotten to the point where there's so many things happening, so many games and so many series and all this promotion we have to do all at once. Small things to check, "what do you want to call Vegeta's new form" and the like.
  When I started out as a director, I really wanted something to be mine. I wanted ownership--I didn't mind sharing it, but I really wanted to do as much as I could myself. As I've matured, I realize that when doing everything at once, all those individual pieces start to suffer, so I'm grateful to have someone else working on Super making sure it's as good as possible.
  Oh no, I totally get that, I'm kind of a control freak myself. But as you spend more time doing your job, you have to let a few things go, and actually trust the people around you to do just as good a job with the tasks you can't, if not better. It's still tough.
  Yeah, especially on the other side of the mic. I mean, I've voiced so many Dragon Ball characters over the years, and now I've got people asking me if I'm gonna voice anyone else in the Universe Survival Arc, and I'm like "well, no, man!" There's so many great people working now, they have so many options. Back when we were first dubbing DBZ we just needed anyone who could read English at all, but now we have this massive acting pool, and that's been my life these days, is just casting the Universe Survival Arc, tons of new characters and we're just trying to get them all mapped out.
  Back in the day you voiced like, Piccolo and Vegeta and a couple members of the Ginyu Force and even Yamcha way back when, so you're doing all these characters and all these voices, and now you're actually able to get everybody in there and not, y'know... kill anybody.
  Oh for sure! Like I said, back then we just needed anybody who could read a script and people who were getting paid barely anything for their time, and now I can afford to use Jason Douglas (Beerus) and Monica Rial (Bulma) and all these really experienced voice people! At this point with Super, we're really just casting and letting these people know what's been going on with their characters so they can just jump in and kick ass.
  Dude, yeah. On that subject, Chris Ayres (Frieza) is a champ, just recovering and jumping right back into things!
  The thing is, we are on a mysterious time clock with him. So, they haven't finished animating Dragon Ball Super: Broly yet, we haven't finished getting all the materials yet, and I haven't seen the film yet. He's still waiting on transplants. So at any time, we could literally be in the middle of recording for the show and they call and say "there's a donor ready," he'll have to get up and go.
  That's rough. Like, I know he has all of you there to support him, but it still must be really scary for his family. All the best for him, man.
  Oh, I'll definitely let him know. He's a freakin' champion, he's just--I loved Linda Young, she was an amazing Frieza back in the day. But once we got into Dragon Ball Z Kai and we got to hear Frieza's newer voice, and we tried to bring Linda in, but the character just talked too fast and she chose to step down. Chris was the only one we saw who was able to read those lines that fast and with that much power. I was so happy to see Frieza in the new feature, it's good to see him in the trailer and see him still as part of the... well, "extended" family.
  The release is still a ways away, and now that I know that you haven't seen too much material for it, what are you most excited to see in Dragon Ball Super: Broly?
    Oh god, the animation of the fight sequences, man. I want to see this gorgeous, beautiful, theatrical fight to the finish. I hope Vegeta gets a real chance to shine, maybe a Fusion? It just looks freakin' amazing. I think I'm most excited to see what Akira Toriyama's vision for Broly is, that this is the true telling of Broly's backstory and purpose, where he's from and why he's here, how he came to be. I'm fascinated. The old movies will still exist and you can enjoy them, but they're a nice way to prepare you for what the real story will be.
  The trailer shows off these little glimpses of life on Planet Vegeta, maybe on the day it was destroyed or even before that--I'm excited to see that. We don't know too much about Saiyan culture, so I'm excited to see more there.
  Yeah, I'm definitely interested to see how this whole thing unfolds. I wish I had anything in front of me to see what it's like, I'm gonna be scrapping as soon as the thing comes in to see what it looks like.
  Okay, last one: so far, what has been the most hype moment for you while recording for Dragon Ball Super?
  Hmm. Most... hype. I mean, this technically counts: the most hype moment for me was finding out there were gonna be this new movie, Battle of Gods, that was such a huge and welcome surprise to have a new story and a new adventure after only working on the original stuff for so long.
  But my favorite recent thing... probably watching Resurrection F in the theater with people. Vegeta's scene at the end where he tells Frieza "don't you ever resurrect again," even though he ended up getting robbed right after. Every time I watch it, in Japanese or English, it's just so impactful.
  One more! Last time I looked online, like eleven or twelve million people had watched the Dragon Ball Super: Broly trailer that we launched at SDCC, and the hype is so incredibly real.
  Alright, and that's everything! Thank you for your time, Chris, and I'll see you around!
  My next questions go out to you all! What are your favorite moments from the Dragon Ball and Dragon Ball Z movies? What are you most excited to see in Dragon Ball Super: Broly? And what are your most hype moments ever as Dragon Ball fans? Sound off in the comments and let us know!
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You can follow Nate Ming on Twitter at @NateMing.
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auburnfamilynews · 7 years
Link
Differing opinions lead us into Week 3
After last night there are certainly reasons to be disgusted. Auburn posted it’s worst offensive performance under Gus Malzahn.
117 total yards.
That’s hard to believe.
What’s even harder to believe is that for awhile, it looked like that performance might actually get the job done because the defense was playing lights out. Auburn held the ball (somehow) for eleven minutes in the first quarter and I was sure in thinking that more of that would get Kam Pettway rolling over the other Tigers in the fourth quarter.
But that eleven minutes of possession somehow turned into eleven sacks of Jarrett Stidham and despite being down by one possession, hope seemed lost even as the offense drove into Clemson territory late in the ball game.
With that said, let’s get the reactions. Both the positive and the negative.
TUCO
Let's take a deep breath. There's plenty of reasons to be upset but Auburn was within a score of the defending national champions on the road. We're unbeaten in league play and will remain so for at least another week. Every goal we entered the season with is still in play.
Stidham was sacked a lot. Our line deserves some of the blame but quite a few of those sacks were coverage sacks. Auburn's receivers need to get open quicker.
It stinks when you go from two sure options at running back to one due to injury and even that one is a little dinged up but this is the world we find ourselves in. Rest everyone as much as possible, and throw your entire route tree at Mercer next week to get ready for SEC play.
How about that Auburn defense? They're going to keep us in games all year.
Two games in, this team reminds me a lot of 2007. That was a good team with some weak spots on the line due to youth. They beat some teams they shouldn't have beaten; they lost some games they shouldn't have lost.
SON OF CROW
If you get sacked 11 times, you should lose. If you can’t protect the passer, you should lose. If you can’t run effective crossing routes on third down, you should lose.
We should have lost. We did.
They were flat better than us up front. Our defense looked amazing. I stayed up until 4:25 in the morning for this nonsense so who is the real idiot? me. I’m the idiot.
JAMES JONES
Play calling wasn't great. Execution was worse. Wasted a good defensive performance. Stidham looked too tentative when he had time, and that was rare. I'd love the All 22 feed for the rewatch.
DUSTY MILLER
Let me first say that I love our defense. I love the effort. I love the swarming, angry, team oriented defense. I love the big hits and wrap up tackling. I hate our DBs not looking back for the ball. But, I love our defense.
With that said, screw moral victories. I saw us using a playcall placard with a picture of the Three Stooges, that pretty much sums up our offense right now.
My highly emotionally charged snap judgements:
I'm tired of the offense looking terrible. I'm tired of it being predictable. I'm tired of zero creativity. I'm tired of no discernible WR routes. I'm tired of the refusal to implement slants and crossing patterns using the middle of the field. I'm tired of aggressive defenses eating us alive because of said refusal and not having plays to take advantage of that aggression. I'm tired of everything going coming undone in the redzone. I'm tired of our OL playing Charmin soft.
I love our defense.
I'm tired of 8-4. I'm tired of our self proclaimed offensive genius crapping the bed. 117 total yards?!?
I love Auburn, I always will. But, I'm tired. Tired of hype not materializing and coming up empty in big games.
DR. Z
Sunday knee jerk: when Brian Griese is openly critiquing your playcallling and scheme, you're in trouble.
JACK CONDON
I watched the first three quarters on my phone (thank you, unlimited data) at a wedding while my wife gave me serious side-eye, and it was both frustrating and rewarding.
Like others have said, the defense was fantastic. They held Clemson to their lowest scoring output in almost three years (and that was a Deshaun Watson-less loss to Georgia Tech). They allowed a couple of big runs by Kelly Bryant, but if the offense had produced more than the worst performance in Gus’ tenure, Auburn would’ve allowed even less than the 285 yards and 14 points that Clemson put up. It was an impressive performance, but it’ll get overshadowed by what happened on the other side of the ball.
I loved watching the defense on my tiny iPhone screen, but I wish ESPN3 had given me the HD picture while Kevin Steele’s unit was on the field. Instead, when Clemson had the ball, I got highly-pixelated scrambled Cinemax quality, and when Auburn’s offense was on the field, it was all crystal clear. If it had been the other way around, I could’ve assumed that some of the issues were due to the poor picture, but it was completely evident. Our offense sucked.
From my tiny viewing platform, I could see Stidham hold the ball way too long. It didn’t even look like the problems were with the offensive line as far as I could see. How many times did Stidham escape the initial pressure, have time to get rid of the ball, and take a sack anyway? Seemed like almost every time to me.
Maybe I missed it, but Kam Martin didn’t seem to be involved in the game plan. After Nate Craig-Myers caught that first third down pass, I thought we were golden. Stidham was going downfield and spreading the ball around. We were going to Kyle Davis, and he was drawing penalties. It looked good.
But then he got gun-shy. How do you help out a quarterback who’s feeling it in the pocket? Short routes, crossing routes, slants, draws, etc. It looked like we ran about five different plays — three-yard run by Pettway, screen, prayer for a PI, sack, and sack.
And the goal line offense. Oh, God. Why. We were inside the ten multiple times in the first quarter. Six points. Never got there again. Clemson knew what we were running. What was with the Chandler Cox toss? Clemson saw it and shifted right where the play was going. Why not give it to Kam Martin in some capacity and give him a shot to outrun a guy to the pylon? So many alternatives.
In the end, we lost to the defending national champions by one score at their place. With that defensive performance, it should’ve been a great road win. But we wasted that effort by Kevin Steele’s boys. We’ll beat Mercer next week, and Missouri doesn’t seem very good. The Mississippis are a mess, and so we might skate through until Baton Rouge.
I said less than eight wins is a fireable offense with this talent, and if that’s the case, then Gus needs to go. But let’s give him the whole season until we come to that conclusion.
As always, #WarEagleAnyway.
from College and Magnolia http://bit.ly/2winwwe
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allisondraste · 4 years
Text
Temperance (33/42)
Pairing: Nathaniel Howe/ Female, Non-HoF Cousland
Story Summary: Nathaniel and Elissa were childhood friends, but time and distance tore them apart. In the aftermath of the Fifth Blight, and Ferelden’s Civil War, both Elissa and Nathaniel must attempt reconstruct their tattered lives. As a series of events lead them to be reunited, both are reminded of so many years ago when things were much simpler.
Chapter Summary:    Nathaniel wishes it took longer to return to Vigil’s Keep. 
First Chapter
Previous Chapter
[AO3 LINK]
Fereldan Countryside, 9:31 Dragon
Nathaniel sat across the campfire from Liss, pretending not to notice when she glanced up from her book to eye him sharply.  As she read, she turned each page with an exaggerated amount of force and pointedness, a display of irritation that was much less subtle than she likely believed.  She might as well have torn out the pages, wadded them into little balls and tossed them at his head. In fact, if she had lobbed the whole book at him, he wouldn’t have been surprised.  He probably wouldn’t have even tried to dodge.
They had not spoken since that morning, when Nathaniel had taken it upon himself to drive a wedge into yet another of his relationships, just as he’d done with Lucia the night before.  He knew it wasn’t his place to tell Liss what she should and shouldn’t do, and he was frustrated with his complete inability to let it go. If she wanted to become a Grey Warden, then she should. However, the thought terrified him, and he’d let his fear get the better of him.  Now, despite sitting just feet from her, he’d never felt further away.
The four of them had decided to break the day long trip to Amaranthine into two, less exhausting halves, and thus set up camp on the road from Denerim.  The camp was painfully quiet, tension hanging like smoke in the air, suffocating and oppressive. With Liss preoccupied by her pointed, passive-aggressive reading in Nathaniel’s direction, and Lucia gazing absently into the fire,  Alistair’s discomfort was obvious. He sat on the ground, craning his head around and darting his eyes in every direction, plucking at hardy weeds that shot up through the frozen soil, and fidgeting endlessly. At one point he emptied out the entirety of the contents of his pack, and put each item back in one by one.  When he asked to do the same for Lucia’s and she refused, he pouted and scooted over more closely to Liss.
Peering over her arm to look at the text in her hands, he asked, “New book?”
Liss’ posture relaxed almost instantly as she turned to look at Alistair with a soft smile. “Actually, it’s an old one.”  She marked her spot and closed the book turning it so that he could see the front.
Squinting, Alistair read the words. “Songs of the Pirate Queen?” He took the book from her hands and began to thumb through the pages.
“Mhmm,” she answered cheerfully, “It was one of my mother’s favorites.  She had at least three copies at any given time. I think she missed the sea more than she let on.”
“What,” he asked enthusiastically, still skimming the pages, “Was your mother a pirate or something?”
Liss laughed.  “Actually, yes! Well, before she married my father, that is.  My grandparents weren’t too happy with the arrangement, but Papa loved her.”
Nathaniel’s chest tightened at the memory of Lady Eleanor, and the nearly inaudible waver in Liss’ voice as she spoke about her.
She continued, “You know The Soldier and the Seawolf?  It’s actually about my parents.”
“Huh, I didn’t know th— oh.” Alistair’s eyes widened and his entire face flushed as he slammed Liss’ book shut.  He stiffened and looked out into the fire.
Liss giggled and brought her hand to her mouth, a gesture she often used when she was attempting to hide her amusement.  “I’m so sorry. I should have warned you that it explores some… mature themes. It’s very tasteful, I swear.”
“No, no it’s fine,” Alistair spluttered, fumbling around with his words, “Er, I mean, I’m fine. It’s just.”  He waved his hands vaguely and cleared his throat before sighing and handing her the book back, placing it gingerly onto her lap as if it might bite him.  
For the first time during the exchange, Lucia looked up, smile spreading across her lips as she studied Alistair affectionately, face brightening in a way Nathaniel had never seen. She looked at Liss and spoke.  “Alistair’s favorite book is The Ugly Nugling, if that tells you anything.”
“It’s a classic,” Alistair stated proudly, “And it has the most lovely message.”
“Which is?” Lucia raised her eyebrows.
“Even if you have beady eyes and creepy little hand…feet… things, you still have value.”
“And did that help you in your formative years as a nug,” Nathaniel asked suddenly, surprising himself.  
Alistair laughed.  “Yes, come to think of it.  It did help me through a rather rough spot when the other nugs wouldn’t let me join their nug games.”
Nathaniel snorted, and glanced reflexively in Liss’ direction.  She was still laughing, bright smile painted across her face. Then their eyes met, her smile fading as she looked away.  His chest tightened until she looked at him again, eyes full of amusement and sparkling in the firelight. No doubt she was fighting a desperate battle to keep the smile from returning to her face, a battle she seemed to be losing if the smirk twitching at her lips was any evidence. Though he knew she was still angry with him, that he would still need to find some way to make amends, the brief, shared moment was a relief that he had not done as much damage as he previously thought.
Conversation came more easily after that, a thin veil of humor and lightheartedness to hide the angry bronto in the room until the sun settled beneath the horizon and stars twinkled brightly.  Liss was the first to doze off, open book face down on the ground beside her. Even with two heavy blankets wrapped around her, she still looked cold and uncomfortable. For someone so distinctly Fereldan, she’d never appreciated cold weather, and he knew she must be miserable.  Several feet beside her, Alistair had fallen asleep,too, his head on Lucia’s lap as she looked down at him fondly, raking gentle fingers through his hair. Nathaniel envied their contentment even though he knew there was immense pain buried deep beneath the surface. He envied the ease with which they settled back into one another.  If he’d only kept his temper at bay, his opinions to himself then maybe he and Liss could have been… something already. Maybe he would have been allowed to at least explain why he hadn’t written to her. He let his gaze wander back over to Liss, watching as her body rose and fell with each breath. They’d been so close just a day ago. How had it all gone so wrong?
“She’s been through a lot, hasn’t she?” Lucia’s quiet voice startled him, and he turned to look at her.  She was watching Liss as he had been, brows knitted.
Nathaniel sighed heavily, taking a moment before answering to quell the unwelcome tears burning behind his eyes. “She has.”
Lucia fell silent for a moment, took a deep breath, and spoke again. “I am sorry if I have caused strife between you two.”
“You—“ Nathaniel cleared his throat, “You haven’t.”  He needed to say more, to apologize to her for how he’d treated her, but he froze and the words escaped him.
Luckily, she continued.  “Alistair wasn’t too happy with my decision to recruit her either.  He said that she was not in a good place to make that kind of choice.”
“He’s right.  I think it’s a mistake,” he said, bluntly and Lucia flinched, “But it’s hers to make, and I apologize for acting as if you are responsible.”
“Aren’t I?”
“Liss is stubborn and difficult to refuse,” Nathaniel assured her, “Even if you were responsible, it wouldn’t discount the need for an apology.  I was out of line.”
“It’s okay, Nate,” Lucia said, dropping her standard formality to use his shortened name.  She looked back down at Alistair, as she traced the line of his jaw with her fingertips. “I understand why you might want to protect her from what we are.”
“Thank you,” he muttered, looking away from her.  He didn’t know what else to say or do. Again, she had proven herself wise beyond her years, and he was ashamed.
The rest of the night passed without event. It also passed without a wink of sleep for Nathaniel— not that he’d even tried— and the remainder of the trip to Amaranthine had flown by quickly, too quickly.  It would not have bothered him had their journey been halted by bandits or a pack of hungry wolves. Anything to delay Liss’ inevitable joining and what that meant one way or another. He hardly spoke, only because everything he wanted to say would be the wrong thing.  So he bit his tongue until he thought it might bleed as he always had.
When they arrived at Vigil’s Keep, the relative peace and quiet startled Nathaniel.  It was a shift from the hustle and bustle of Denerim, and he’d almost forgotten how few people there truly were in such a large space, even after just a few days.  As they entered the large, vacant area that was the main hall, he noticed Liss glancing at him from the corner of his eye, no doubt curious at his reaction to his childhood home, the place she’s seen him off to at the end of each summer.  If he were honest, it still made him nervous, as if his angry father would be waiting around every corner to welcome him home with a barrage of insults. Of course, his father was dead, and that wouldn’t happen. Never again.
“Well slap my ass and call me a nug’s uncle,” boomed Oghren as he approached, rather swiftly for the stocky dwarf, “If it isn’t my favorite little pike twirler.”  He reached up and punched Alistair playfully in the abdomen.
Alistair flinched, but laughed and gave Oghren a shove. “I suppose there is no talking you out of that nickname, huh?”
“Not a chance,” Oghren said proudly, puffing out his chest. “Guess you heard I’m a Warden now.”
“I did.  Glad to have you among our ranks, Ser Dwarf.”
“Well, shit,” Oghren muttered.  Nathaniel swore he saw a glimmer of tears in Oghren’s eyes as he and Alistair shared the Warden salute.
It wasn’t long before the others arrived to the main hall, with the exception of Justice, who’d been exceptionally quiet and reclusive since The Mother’s defeat.  Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that Kristoff’s body had begun to decay beyond use. In any event, Anders and Sigrun appeared as their typically enthusiastic selves, Velanna trailing behind with her arms crossed over her chest and a standard scowl painted on her face.  Guilt bubbled in Nathaniel’s chest at the thought of parading Liss around in front of her. Velanna had been more than understanding, but this would most likely be an insult to injury.
Without wasting any time, Anders approached Liss.  “Hello, my lady. I’m Anders. It is a pleasure to meet you.”
Liss blinked and her face reddened, clearly flustered.  “My name is Elissa, and the pleasure is mine.”
“A charming name for a charming gi—“ Anders yelped as Velanna elbowed him in the rib cage. “What did I do this time?”
Instead of answering Anders, Velanna looked at Liss. “Andaran atish’an, Elissa.  I am Velanna.”
“And I’m Sigrun!”
“It’s nice to meet you all,” Liss said politely, “You can call me Liss, by the way.  I prefer it. I’m just so accustomed to giving my full name.”
“You’re the Cousland girl, aren’t you?” Oghren had stopped teasing Alistair and chimed in.
“I am.”
“I’m sorry about your family,” he said in an unexpected display of social appropriateness. “It’s a damn shame.”
“Thank you,” Liss mumbled, clearly unsure what to say. She could not have planned for so many people outside of the nobility, and especially outside of Highever to care about what happened to her family.  
“Elissa,” Lucia shouted.  She’d been away from the group speaking with Seneschal Garevel.  
Liss turned abruptly. “Yes, Warden-Commander?”
“Can you come with me for a moment? We have some matters to discuss before this evening.”
As if it were an instinct, she looked to Nathaniel who nodded at her, and then she answered Lucia.  “Sure.”
Liss, Lucia, and Garevel exited the hall, and Alistair remained standing awkwardly, kicking at the floor with his boot, as if he were avoiding eye contact with a pack of wolves. Oghren introduced him to everyone as an old friend and comrade, and he seemed to ease up when they did not devour him whole.  Tense and growing increasingly anxious as minutes passed by, Nathaniel separated from the others and paced around the hall before settling on a spot to stand, right next to his mother’s portrait. It seemed they had decided not to take it down after all.  
“You’re especially talkative today,” chirped a familiar voice from behind him.  He turned to see Anders leaning against a bookshelf and grinning.  
“What can I say,” Nathaniel answered with as much sarcasm as he could muster, “I just have so many things to say.”
“Ouch.  Touchy, are we?” Anders moved closer and put a hand on his shoulder.  “Wouldn’t have anything to do with the new recruit who you kept gazing at longingly, would it?”
“I was not gazing at her longingly,” he snapped.
“Yeah, and I’m a Templar,” Anders replied, eyeing him pointedly, “Oh, wait. You mean we aren’t trying to see who can tell the most outrageous lie?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I’m stunned, truly.” The mage rolled his eyes, and waved his hand flippantly.
“Are we talking about Nate’s lover?” Sigrun had appeared as if out of nowhere and Anders jumped.
“ Lover? ” Anders’ face lit up with mischief.
“She’s not—“ Nathaniel attempted helplessly.
“She is why you went to Denerim, is she not?”  Velanna had approached as well, an utter betrayal.
“I—“
“Knock it off,” Oghren scolded as he joined the fray, pushing past Anders and Sigrun.  Nathaniel had never been more relieved to see the dwarf. “Let the boy think about his pretty Cousland girl in peace won’t ya?”
Oghren elbowed him and cackled, clearly not his calvary after all.  Nathaniel supposed that it if he was to have friends, he had to endure a bit of fun at his expense every once in a while.  This was simply the worst time, the worst place, and he was not remotely in the mood to entertain it. Just as he opened his mouth to tell them all to get off his arse, someone cleared their throat from behind the group and everyone turned to look at Alistair who stood several feet away, waving and smiling sheepishly.
“Hey, uh, Nathaniel,” he said, motioning toward the hall with his thumb, “I think Luc— er, the commander wants to talk to you.”
Nathaniel frowned, unsure what Lucia would need to talk to him about, but he welcomed the excuse to escape the friendly mob. He nodded and followed Alistair down the hallway at the back of the room, the same that Lucia and the others had left through just moments before.
“Do you know why the commander needs to speak with me?”
Alistair laughed and stopped walking. “She doesn’t.”
Nathaniel blinked a few times. “Oh.”
“They were just a few pitchforks short of a mob,” the other man explained, chuckling and leaning against the wall, “Consider this your daring rescue.”
Nathaniel smirked.  “It’s odd. I always thought knights in shining armor had magnificent white steeds.”
“Oh...that. You see,  I have this thing where I fall off horses.” Alistair shrugged.  “Sorry to disappoint.”
They shared a laugh, and then Nathaniel clapped him on the shoulder. “In all seriousness.  Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.”  Alistair looked down the hallway in one direction and then back down the other.  “Full disclosure: I have no idea where I’m going. Is there another way out of this hallway or did I just trap us here? Because that would definitely be something that I would do.”
Shaking his head, Nathaniel began walking down the hall, away from the main room where his friends no doubt waited for him to emerge, motioning for Alistair to follow after him.  Luckily, Vigil’s Keep was rather circular in design. They passed the door that led to the seneschal’s office, where Lucia and Liss most likely were, turned a corner, and went up several flights of stairs until they reached a door that led outside to the battlements.  He opened the door and stepped outside, Alistair close behind. It was cooler than it had been when they’d arrived, and the sky was overcast with clouds that threatened to break open at any moment.  
“Perfect weather for a Joining,” Alistair remarked.
“You don’t say,” Nathaniel answered tersely.
They shared a moment of heavy silence, as they continued walking.  Then, Nathaniel spoke. “I apologize for being rude to you before. I have not been at my best these past few days.”
“Yeah, well.” Alistair looked down and rubbed the back of his neck.  He straightened up and flashed an embarrassed grin.“Neither have I.”
So much had transpired in such a short span of time, it took Nathaniel a moment to realize he was referring to the kiss.  He opened his mouth as if to speak, but he didn’t really know what to say. It was not something he really felt entitled to an opinion about, although he certainly had one.  
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry,” Alistair said somberly, walking toward the parapet before them and leaning over. “I didn’t mean to, um, get in the way of anything.”
“You didn’t,” Nathaniel sighed and moved the stand beside him. “This is all on me.”
“I am worried about her too,” Alistair said, “We all get a little reckless when we’re afraid.”
“She’s afraid? That’s not why she told me she decided to join.”
“It’s not what she’s told anyone.  She’ll say it’s because she’s always wanted to be a Grey Warden or that she’s looking for a new purpose, or some other romantic, Liss-like explanation for her decision.”  Alistair stared vacantly out over the keep. “And those are all probably true, but the real reason she’s doing it is because she’s terrified.”
“Of what?”  Nathaniel was ashamed that he’d known Liss his entire life and couldn’t answer the question for himself.
“Being alone.”
“Pardon my skepticism, but how do you know?”
Alistair turned and looked at him, bitter smile spreading across his lips.  “We have a lot in common, Liss and I.”
“I see.”
“I think that’s why things happened the way they did...not that it’s an excuse or anything.”  
Nathaniel nodded absently, more than a little frustrated that he hadn’t seen it himself.  Of course Liss was scared of being alone, Liss who had never been without her family, who lost almost everyone she loved in one night and who blamed herself for it, who spent a year on her own, scraping and struggling to get to the capitol.  She had finally achieved some sense of stability in Denerim with the council, and with Alistair’s friendship, and then those, too, began to fade. Why had he not seen that? Had he realized, their conversation the day before would have gone so much differently. Much less trying to talk her out of it, much more assuring her that she wouldn’t be alone, no matter her choice.  He wished with every ounce of himself he hadn’t jumped to conclusions.
Then, maybe there was still time.  Pushing off from the parapet, he turned abruptly to head back inside the castle.  Alistair eyed him with confusion. “Wait. Where are you going?
“I have to talk to Liss,” Nathaniel stated sharply, “Now.”
Note: The book Liss is reading is actually the title of a really wonderful hawkebela fanfic that I couldn’t recommend more highly! ;D
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