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thesquiddlesquad · 5 years

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OC-tober day 4/5: Nature/Lost

This is late because it ended up being way longer than I intended. Also it’s a combo of two prompts.

@oc-growth-and-development

“There used to be trees here.” Miranda looked over to see that Titania had paused, looking out across what seemed to be a cluster of abandoned, derelict buildings.

“Here?” Miranda surveyed the scene from Titania’s side. It was difficult for her to imagine this place ever being anything but a decaying urban wasteland.

“Yes, a long time ago. They cut them down before you were born, to make room for all of this.” Then, to Miranda’s surprise, Titania smiled. It was a small, slight smile, a shadow of the one she wore in photographs, but it was a natural one. That alone made it worth more than a thousand signed pictures. “I used to come here with my brother, when we were kids.”

“Jetstream?” Miranda let slip without thinking, looking up in excitement.

“Sebastian.” Titania nodded, despite the correction. Well, Miranda reasoned, that had been before either of them were superheroes. But unlike her brother, Titania had only ever had one name. Like Miranda, she had only ever wanted one thing.

It was late in the summer, and the city was enjoying one of its last warm days before the cold weather crept back in. Beneath the shade of the trees, two children were spending a different sort of last day.

Titania looked down from the high branch where she had perched herself, scanning the forest floor for any sign of her brother. It had taken only one gravity-defying leap and a subsequent bit of monkey-like scrambling to reach the top of the tallest tree, and from here she had a choice view of both the wide blue sky above and the woods underneath. It would still be a challenge to spot Sebastian, at least while he was moving.

She turned her head towards the sound of rustling leaves and cracking twigs and saw a blurry shape racing over the ground towards the tree where she sat. He knew this was her favourite one. Grinning broadly, Titania pushed off the branch and let herself fall.

It didn’t matter that she hit a few branches on the way down, or that she slammed into the ground hard enough to leave a dent. Titania sat up, still smiling, and looked into the deep blue eyes of her favourite person in the world.

“Boo!” she shouted, even though he had already seen her.

“I heard you battering all those branches – you’ll have to work harder to surprise me.” He grinned down at her. “Anyway, we’d better finish up what we’re doing. Mom’s gonna want us back in an hour.”

“What? We only just got here!” That wasn’t strictly true – it had been light when they left and the sun was beginning to sink lower in the sky – but time always seemed to run away while they were there.

“I know, but I’ve got somewhere important to go tomorrow.”

“Superhero school,” Titania said reverently. She knew if she were a character in one of her comic books, she would have stars drawn in her eyes. It was where she and Sebastian had longed to go for as long as she could remember. And it was where Sebastian was about to be the very next day. She slumped onto a nearby log, pouting. “I can’t believe you’re going tomorrow and I still have to wait five whole years.” It felt like a lifetime – and in all fairness it was more than half as long as her life had been so far.

“Well that’s what you get for being born second.” Sebastian teased. When she showed no sign of cheering up, he sat down beside her. “Hey, come on. You’ll get your chance, and it’ll come sooner than you think.” He paused, then added in a quieter voice. “I know it did for me.”

“It’s not just that.” The shady forest seemed suddenly colder; Titania felt goose bumps rising on her arms and folded them close to her chest. “I don’t want you to leave.”

“You know I’d take you with me if I could,” said Sebastian, “But unfortunately you’re too big to fit in my suitcase.” She didn’t laugh. “Come on.” Sebastian tugged one of her pigtails, setting the curls bouncing. “This is the last day I get with my little sister for weeks and we’re wasting it moping around? Is that what heroes do?”

“No,” Titania admitted.

“Of course not. We keep our chins up.” To illustrate his words he reached over and lifted Titania’s chin. She pressed her lips together to keep from smiling – the way he was grinning at her was infectious. Without warning, Sebastian’s fingers moved down to tickle her neck. Titania shrieked and fell sideways off the log to land, giggling, in the damp grass.

“Hey!” She sat up, unable to fight off a smile. “I’m gonna throw you in the river.”

“Like you could catch me.” Sebastian ran a circle around her and the log within a second, as if to prove his point. “Speaking of the river, weren’t we gonna build a bridge across it?”

“Oh yeah!” Titania scrambled to her feet. “We can use this.” She reached down and hefted up the log, which swung in a wide arc as she lifted it effortlessly onto her shoulder. It came close to hitting Sebastian, but he was quick enough to dodge with ease.

“Watch out!” He grabbed hold of one end. “Okay, you hold it, I’ll steer.” Titania followed him towards the river.

She would have followed him anywhere.

---***---

It was the end of the summer again, almost fifteen years after their last day in the woods. Though Titania hadn’t set foot in that particular forest since she had left school, the place had never been far from her mind. Being under the trees had always been a comfort to her. Their thick trunks stood tall and strong like sentinels, still and silent through the years. Those trees had sprouted long before she was born, and would go on living long after she was gone. At least, that was what she had thought.

Her plans had taken her out of England as soon as her final year was over. Like every summer during her schooling, she had flown out to New York City to work under Liberty, her hero mentor. But unlike those other times, she did not return when September came. She had spent a busy few years in America. There was no shortage of crime in New York City alone, but once Liberty’s severe standards had finally been satisfied, Titania had been set free to roam the rest of the states, helping out wherever the need arose. Among the dazzling sights she had seen on her travels were some of the most magnificent trees she had ever witnessed – hundreds of feet tall, and so immense in girth that an arch could be cut into the trunk large enough for a car to drive through. Yet despite all the wonders on her journey, Titania soon felt something calling her back to her old home. And so she packed up her things and bought a ticket to Heathrow airport. That was how it came to be that a few weeks later, during a brief gap in her busy schedule, she stood at the edge of her and Sebastian’s favourite playing ground.

At least, that was where she should be. Titania looked from the multi-storey car park, down to her map, back to the car park again. This couldn’t be the right street. Had they changed the names? Had she forgotten the address while she’d been busy in the United States? Then her eyes landed on the sign above the supermarket: Red Oak Outlet. This was the place, all right. But the red oaks themselves were nowhere to be seen. Titania felt her heart sink into her stomach. They were just trees, she tried to tell herself, old trees she hadn’t seen in years. But somehow it felt like more than just the forest had been erased from this place. Something else had been kept alive, preserved beneath that canopy of green leaves, within the walls of those sturdy tree trunks. Inside the forest it would always be that last day of summer she had spent with Sebastian.

Now that too had been lost.

---***---

“How long has it been like this?” Miranda’s voice ripped Titania out of her memories and back into reality. The girl was staring out over the derelict buildings, her lips pressed together. “Empty, I mean.”

“A few years now, I think.” Titania had avoided the place since that first time. Until recently.

“Huh. I thought they would have built something else here.”

“It’s been up for sale for a long time, but no one wanted to buy it,” Titania explained, “Too much work to be done for not enough profit, or something like that.”

“Do you think anyone will buy it?” Miranda wondered out loud. “Someone should. It’s depressing, how it’s just sitting here empty.”

“I agree. Most of all, I’d want someone to plant trees here again.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea.” Miranda paused. Then she looked up at Titania with wide eyes. “We’re someone.” For the second time that day, Titania smiled without even thinking about it.

“That’s right.” It was exactly the thing she would expect Miranda to say. She was that kind of person – the one whose first answer to ‘someone should’ was ‘why not me?’. It was something Titania understood all too well. Which was why she had bought the old forest land when she had found the opportunity. She didn’t have the money left for demolition, or clearing the land, or re-seeding, but she had a different plan for that. Titania placed a hand on Miranda’s shoulder. “Want to learn how to knock down a concrete wall?”

“Yes!” Miranda looked like she might explode from excitement. “I’ve wanted to try that before, but obviously I didn’t have anything to practice on because it would get broken, and I don’t know if copying your power would be easier if you were actually there, because I think that helped when I used it that other time even though I didn’t actually know it was going to work, so maybe I did it because it was an emergency? I don’t know.” Titania nodded, in no hurry to interrupt.

It would be a long time before the trees were fully grown. Even if she wasn’t already dying, Titania doubted she would have lived to see that day. But the point of planting a tree was not to see it grow yourself. It was something you did for others, after you were gone.

#oc tober #oc-tober #writing #ocs #original characters #oc titania #oc miranda #oc sebastian #secret identity

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allurascastle · 7 years

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I loved it! I would love to more about Tails, he sounds very interesting.

:D Thank you! And, believe me, I am always willing to talk about my son™. I love him. But before that, some lowkey hcs of mine for Voltron as a whole that are kinda relevant to Talis and his universe:

The first one being that Alfor is the King-Regent - he married into the royal family, any “royal family” attributed things (Allura’s powers, for example, have been hypothesized to be because she’s from the royal line) are from Allura’s mother…who died when she was little (my post about her and Zelda being bffs was based on accidental parallels that I built up…) and because of that, he rules for Allura until she’s old enough (I’ve always seen her as a late teen/very young adult, AKA: my age).

The second one is that Alfor is the Green paladin. I know people like to hc him as the Red paladin (because of Coran’s line about following in his footsteps), the Blue (bc Lance caught Allura), or the Yellow (because of his royal armor), but the comics and Space Mall strongly suggest he was the Green paladin, so that is what he is in any of my ‘verses.

Altean shape-shifting isn’t really changing their shape. It’s chameleon like, so mostly color, and height helps to blend in (I mean, canonically it’s a thing, but my point is that color + height is the extent. You know the things I’m saying are not a Thing Alteans can do in my ‘verses, you’ve been in this fandom).

We haven’t seen much about ancient Galra (except in the same shot as younger Alfor in Space Mall, wherein they all largely look like Zarkon), so liberties have been taken with them. Even back then, though, they were a pretty militaristic, technologically driven society ruled by an Emperor; just, at the time, they all looked largely the same, the way humans do, with few distinct traits. However, they’re not just “militaristic” and “scientific” - they got a lot of culture that’s been lost, or changed, in the last 10,000 years. I’ll mostly mention these as we go on/in bits of writing, but the sword is definitely a Galra Preferred Weapon the way I hc Staffs (fight me about it I hate the word staves) and Spears are Altean Preferred.

Touching back on the militaristic aspect briefly, it’s not unusual for Galra children to go through a sort of…pre-boot-camp boot-camp (double boot-camp intended). This typically means that they have to spend less time in the actual boot-camps and training. It’s like a middle-school thing and then they get to go about their lives however they want, but military and science being core parts of their society means they’re all very likely to go into that. Once they can. It depends.

(Allura’s line about “an Altean child” being able to handle the level of difficulty their training was on leads me to suspect Alteans also had some form of young military training thing going on, so it’s not unusual for them to have cadets of wide age ranges in a group.)

Also the Galra have a garment I call a belateo from bastardizing “balletor” and “belteo” basically meaning “warrior” and “girdle” respectively. It’s…not at all a girdle, and used to be like a sash, but it (now) looks a lot more like the cloth Tal.i’zor.ah and Quar.ians in general wear with their environmental suits (dots to keep out of basic searches for Ta.li and Quar.ian). (And no, while I love Tali and she is my space wife, that’s not where Talis’ name comes from.)

edit 3: crossing out lore that is now longer. It’s going to be called a balleteo instead, and it’s just as sash, either worn around the waist or chest.

(side note: my brother has a game called Stellaris and in it, he made basically the Galra but they were all cats and honestly, watching his progression through that game was a great reference.)

Anyway, onto Talis himself.

His mother was a scientist - one of the many Galra who worked to create the lions (there are a lot of Galra in the scene during Space Mall, and something as large as one lion must’ve required a whole, big team, let alone a project the size of Voltron). His father was a member of the (Altean) Royal Guard, an all around respected one, especially within the ranks, who accompanied Alfor to the Galra homeworld for the process of creating Voltron - which would be where and when Talis’ parents met. He was born around the same time as Allura, maybe a little before.

He grew up on Galra, visiting Altea often - holidays, religious or just general ones, and to visit his father at the Palace/Castle of Lions (whether or not the Royal family made their home predominantly in the Castle of Lions is…up to interpretation…? I haven’t decided for this ‘verse). And his father would come visit he and his mother whenever he had some days off. Once he was done with pre-boot-camp boot-camp, he decided he wanted to got to Altea and start training for the Altean Royal Guard, in part to be closer to his father.

It wasn’t until he “graduated” that he actually met Allura, but by this point he’d already seen her a lot and sort of gotten to know her at a distance - he knew that once she set her mind to something, she did it, and she was kind but no way would you ever be able to walk all over her, and he over all really admired her and developed a not even remotely subtle crush on her.

Which is a good point to mention that Talis all around sucks at dealing with his own emotions. And emotional intensity, vulnerability. He likes to pretend those things don’t exist and keep them bottled up to himself (if the former is causing him inner turmoil, that is. Otherwise, just the intensity and vulnerability). It’s not really anyone’s fault. Talis just has difficulties handling it and like any procrastinater would (which, interjection, he doesn’t really procrastinate but I do so) decides to just…not. This causes some issues around the time of Altea’s destruction and season one, and by problems I mean he gets all conflicted and distant and it makes things tense around Allura.

At first, his…”broodiness” bothers Allura, once he gets appointed her knight (Which, that in of itself irked her because she does not need a babysitter, thank you very much); she doesn’t really know what he’s thinking, or personally know him. They eventually get to a point where he’s opening up easier to her. It helps that he told her something along these lines:

“Your father didn’t ask me to be your bodyguard so that I could keep you from leaving the Castle. He made me your bodyguard so I could go with you, no matter what.” Allura blinked at him, and he, for the first time ever that she’d heard, chuckled. It was a deep chuckle, but quiet and mostly to himself; he looked down as he did, and then lifted his gaze after a moment. “Not that I would try to stop you if he had. I can tell, once you’ve set your mind to something, you’re going to do it whether you have permission or not.”

And while we’re at it, here’s another little excerpt from something I was writing (actually the above was just something stuck in my head…)

The first time Allura met Talis was hardly remarkable. He was dirty from training with his father, a stately man in the royal guard. She had seen him a lot growing up; it was his job to ensure the safety of her family, and he took it seriously. Talis had very clearly taken after him: stoic and often serious.

He politely told her, “It’s an honor to make your acquaintance, Princess Allura,” and bowed respectfully to her, from the waist and with his head turned down, but not without first looking up at her, meeting her eyes. His bright yellow eyes and carmine red markings had always stood out to her, no matter the color his skin turned; she could always spot him, even in full armor as a cadet and full-fledged guard.

That day, he wore the white armor, lined with blue and gold and with a sash tied and pinned around his waist, the ends of it near his knees. It was two tone purple with golden yellow trims, and looked to be sturdily made.

Talis wears the standard Royal Guard armor initially - looking a lot like Allura’s versus the Paladin’s, with, well as described, blue and gold. I mean, as far as I know. I haven’t actually drawn it out (…not that I have the artistic skill but…), but it sounds good in my head.

He gets made Allura’s knight shortly before the war begins (the “war”), and changes his armor to be red, both to stand out from other Royal Guards and to match Allura more (sort of, vaguely related: he likes to match whoever he’s around, so he’s pretty much shape-shifted 60% or 70% the time he’s in Altea). Also, red is aggressive and his job is now to defend the princess, so it fits.

Since I mentioned Preferred Weapons before, I’ll now take the moment to say that he primarily uses the Spear, which is intentional on his part and also because I love spears (bonus round: it treads on no other character’s WoC territory). He can also use a sword and shield but…he’d rather go with a spear and a shield if he has to have a shield. He’ll one hand that. Or maybe the spears can also he shorter…?

Now continuing on…

Talis, obviously, does not die on Altea. He gets put into a cryopod as well, wakes up ten thousand years later. I could give a detailed rundown on what he’s doing in season one and two, but that would make this super incredibly long and also I plan on writing stuff about it, so I’ll just share the highlights.

He’s struggling with some internalized doubts (starts once the “war” begins and now it’s just plaguing him) about, well, himself and his identity. He’s always used “Galtean” proudly, but with recent (ancient) developments with the Galra…

It makes matters worse that he doesn’t know his mother’s position on turning against and destroying Altea the way Zarkon did, whether because he just wasn’t able to contact her or there was no time. Same thing, really. Waking up to find that a) Zarkon is still alive, b) the Altean solar system is entirely gone, and c) the Galra are tyrants merrily enslaving people does not help.

(I know you must be wondering how Allura feels about him and I’ll admit, she has some mixed feelings, but mostly because she doesn’t know what he’s thinking, once more and during such a bad time, when she’s most vulnerable to suspicions. But, she knows he’s half Galra, she’s known for years, so that in of itself does not garner the same reaction out of her that Keith being Galra does. But things are tense and strange and…cold? between them.)

Talis doesn’t just brood though, mind you. He tries to pretend this conflict doesn’t exist, horribly. He throws himself into repairing the ship, checking everything about it that he can by himself and at odd intervals - basically whenever he can - and doing work in medical; cryopods weren’t meant to last ten thousand years, and who knows what the cost of being in there for so long is? And if he’s not doing any of those things, he’s training obsessively, or helping the paladins train hands-on (he starts off aloof about it, but accidentally turns into a good teacher). And, if somehow he is not doing any of those things, he’s helping Coran or following Allura around. He…manages to do a lot and it honestly concerns Coran and the paladins. When does he sleep?

(He doesn’t. He exists purely on his will to maintain the ship and protect Allura.) (He does sleep, actually. That was a joke, but if he could get away with existing on that, purely, I’m sure he’d give it his all.)

Some stuff happens in the comics, but there’s not really any spoilers. Talis stays behind to continue working on the ship and in the event it gets invaded, Allura won’t be practically helpless. He’s a warrior. Alfor put him in a cryopod so that he could defend her from the threats that Coran simply, and not for a lack of trying, they would both lay down their lives to keep her safe in a heartbeat, could not protect her from, and right up there on that list is “giant Galra.”

(Of course, Sendak is another story, and technically he doesn’t win or lose that fight.) (Talis puts himself in positions to be injured, a lot, but that’s because out of their three-man Altean team, he’s the tank. It’s going to happen. He wears armor at all times for a reason.)

He and Allura have a (re-)bonding moment and he manages to open up just a little and tell her what he’s thinking about. She manages to convince him to have some fun with her (because what could be funner than riding that…chair thing, I’ll have to get my comic back out lol, all around the castle? Racing it against someone else) and hen go catch up on sleep.

Episode nine really brings around a change. Allura just lost her father - completely, all over again. Talis is there for her, because he is not anything if not there for Allura. He lets her know that if she needs some company, she doesn’t even need to ask; just let him know. (They sit together for a while. Talk more.)

He goes with Allura onto the ship during episode 10 - at this point, I should mention none of the others know he’s half Galra, just himself, Allura, and Coran, and Talis could probably have saved them all a lot of trouble if he mentioned this and went alone onto the ship, but much like me on last Wednesday (aka the night I accidentally trolled management??) he did not. He also gets captured with Allura because she didn’t want to leave him there when it was her fault. She bodily throws Shiro.

Talis ends up getting tortured before being thrown in the prison with Allura and they have to drag him out of there because he can barely walk. Also, Zarkon calls him “Little Talis” and it makes his blood boil.

There’s too much notable stuff about season two for me to get into tonight, but oh boy. I will tell you he loves the Blade of Marmora. Which leaves us with one more, lowkey headcanon:

The Blade of Marmora are named after a Galra who almost succeeded in assassinating Zarkon. Marmora was a she and her “Blade” started a generation or two, maybe more than that, after she died.

edit: how could I forget the most important thing!!

He gets her something sparkly during Space Mall. Like he took somethings and went to a pawn shop to sell them (and accidentally caught the attention of a collector but that’s okay, he made money because of it) and then went and bought her something sparkly.

I haven’t decided what the sparkly thing is yet. Suggestions welcome.

edit 2: some other weird, but definitely notable things about Talis:

due to weird genetics and alien anatomy, he sweats only on his hands and feet. Because of this, he constantly wears gloves (the grippy-er the better) and has about three thousand pairs of them and keeps multiple pairs on him. Also, socks. Lots and lots of socks.

he has carmine red markings of their own unique shape:

yes, they show up on his eyelids.

speaking of his eyes, his irises are bright yellow and he has the pink pupils.

his hair changes color depending on his skin color, and not intentionally. When he is his natural form or with any shade of purple skin, his hair is black, whereas when he has brown or tanned skin it’s dark brown, and his hair takes on red hues the paler he gets.

he generally rests at a light brown color, since that’s not mentioned in my writing (yet).

is accidentally romantic, but owns up to it. Also, likes romance novels but rarely ever lets himself “have the time” to read them. In general, likes reading but “never has the time for it.”

can’t write poems worth shit but that doesn’t mean he won’t try.

or anything really. He has a few good pieces but other than that, nope, crumple it up and pretend it never existed.

not artistic either.

can sing though??

has participated in “aggressive” Galra dances, but is terrible at slow dances (and maybe Allura, or whomever, should lead).

wanted to be a Paladin growing up. Alfor let him try to bond with the lions, but they rejected him. He took it hard and is still bitter about it.

#sheila answers #talis #talis (oc)#voltron #allura #hcs #head canons #galra #alteans #galteans #sheila's ocs #you-can-call-me-cipher #mutuals

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sassyhazelowl · 7 years

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Option B has been launched. I’d like to give a shout out to both @everybodys-chains & @lucylaneeffect for being terrible and supportive influences about things I really have no business writing. And also @the-archangel-of-zeref for pointing out the fact I have no idea what the fuck is actually going on in canon and all the bits I got wrong. All the bits that are still wrong are now me purposefully sticking my middle finger up at canon and choosing to ignore my education.

Disclaimer: Lots of middle fingers towards canon. Some shade may be thrown at certain popular characters. In the process of attempting to make them likable protagonists instead of walking plot devices, great liberties have been taken with cardboard characters with no consistent canon characterization. I might fuck this up but you’ll live. It has yet to be beta’d but I’m going to cram it down my friend’s throat because if she’s forcing me to beta her SessKag drivel, she owes me.

Also, yes, this is divergent canon where The Christina arrives 10 minutes early and ruins part of the canon timeline and the plot, hurrah! Blame Blue Pegasus for being awesome.

Prologue

“It’s got quite the view.”

She swept by without any acknowledgement of the view or the speaker, tilting her head down towards the wizen old man tottering along a half pace ahead with a spriness that belied his age. If she stared hard enough, she could just make out the outline of Ursa Major on that liver spotted pate. Casting a glance up at her because he felt her heavy gaze, he spoke with enthusiasm, quick to monopolize on the good point, “Yes, yes! You have very good taste indeed. When the harbor is clear you can see all the way across the bay to our sister town!”

“Hmm,” was the moody response as she realized she was one skin discoloration away from completing the bear’s face.

“Our town is known for its fresh air and fresh seafood,” he babbled on nervously, picking up on her discontent but not sure why. Did she know about the foundation problems? The sandfleas that invaded in the peak of summer for those few miserable weeks? Or had to come on too strong while she was enjoying said view, even though her mahogany eyes had been train elsewhere? “Very relaxed for those who wish to retire…”

Now that was entirely the wrong thing to say, and he froze, gray, watery eyes comically wide below peppered brows and mouth falling open in a hasty apology. He was too slow, far too slow, because the woman’s younger companion, who had been leaning against the rail burst into laughter.

“Your age is showing!”

The sigh she’d been holding in, so polite and proper it was smothering, burst out then, startling them both, and she mustered a bland smile for the man trying to sell her the property.

“Thank you, sir. I will certainly consider the… view. It is a lovely town but I am not sure it’s quite--” her eyes cut to the left sharply and the smile wavered at the edges as she took in the view for the first time; it was really was magnificent and she finished her decline regretfully, “What I am searching for.”

The man’s face fell into a mass of disappointed wrinkles at her gentle rebuff but he didn’t spring along or follow when she turned to leave. Unfortunately, the other woman did. And that, right there, was the problem. Sadly, changing location wouldn’t solve it.

The footfalls behind her weren’t a skip but they held a childish quality to them nonetheless. If she didn’t know better, she’d expect someone much different. It was that hesitant patter-pattering that had grown so familiar she didn’t know if she could remember a time recently she hadn’t heard it, even before the outcome of the trial. After all, since that fateful moment their eyes met across the battlefield, she felt a string being tied tight, very much like a noose actually when she paused to think about it.

“Again Anna?” It was less of a complaint and more of a curious question. Surprisingly, the other woman seemed wholly content simply to have the Celestial Wizard within sight. It was a fit of mild hilarity waiting to happen the moment someone from the Council came to check up on her ward only to find that Anna could barely slip away to the bathroom alone. Just who was the prison warden here again?

“It’s not right,” she mumbled, more to herself than her shadow. The footsteps skittered and stumbled a bit, this being the first time Anna had ever bothered to respond to the stream of comments, complaints and observations since the two had left Magnolia.

“I suppose,” was the hummed reply, much too thoughtful to be a child, but said with the same sort of flippant innocence, “The salt in the air would utterly ruin my hair in any case.”

Anna grunted at the assumption the sea wind was an inconvenience the woman and nearly whirled on her heel to take the blasted property; the grunt was a crass and unladylike sound, entirely inappropriate for civilized company. Fortunately, the only company she’d been keeping for the past few weeks was the current one, and Irene was far from civilized, Anna had found out.

“No one asked you to come along,” the Celestial Wizard pointed out, proud of the fact it was level and fair not snippy and petty. She was supposed to be locked up in the hotel room after all but making her stay put was impossible, and Anna had realized it was easier just to keep a personal eye on her.

But it was seriously getting on her nerves, and it seemed silly to keep up the charade of a noblewoman, of a learned woman, of one who was beyond reproach, but she’d been doing it for so long, she wasn’t sure how to stop. She wasn’t even sure if she could stop. Maybe that persona was all there was left to Anna -- proper manners, empty airs and graying blonde hair befitting a proper matriarch. The title she should have and would have held over her grand and sprawling estate four hundred years in the past.

Of course, there was dear Lucy now, she supposed. And her beloved Dragon Slayers as well.

But neither made up for what she’d chosen to sacrifice. The life and children and husband and sprawling clan she’d forsaken to save the future. It weighed on her. Those memories, that forfeited life she’d been born to have.

“I have to,” Irene replied immediately, seriously, “I promised.”

Well, she’s already broken her own rule about not speaking, so she might as well indulge her curiosity a bit, “To whom?”

“You.”

Regret was the feeling that came to mind when Anna considered it. Not regret for saving Irene’s life, never that. Nor regret for bring her aboard The Christina while rescuing young Wendy from Acnologia’s wrath… if they had been just five or ten minutes later, there wouldn’t have been anything left of the young Dragon Slayer to rescue. Nor Irene either for that matter, given what Miss Scarlet had said later, a cold look to her and not a shred of sympathy.

Anna was not surprised to learn about their blood relations; after all, family fostered the deepest bonds of love, and therefore, too, the deepest bonds of loathing as well.

But she was definitely regretting not slipping out of town in the middle of the night. And the permanent limp from her shattered and magically regenerated hip that made her slow enough that the recovering witch could keep pace. Most noteworthy, she regretted breaking her self-imposed vow of silence, and she promised this would be the first and last time she’d slip. If she were patient and mature, she could weather the next few months as mandated by the court with little stress or effort, and then she would be entirely free.

In the meantime, Anna mustn't encourage her.

She wanted to know as little as possible about the other woman. Truly, after all she’d done, was a little peace and solitude too much to ask for? Let her spend her last years alone with a cat and a garden and copious amounts of high quality tea.

Somewhere with an unaltered view of the stars.

“Perhaps you should try the mountains.”

Perhaps you should mind your own business, Anna’s snotty inner-voice snapped back irritable but she kept mum.

A wistful tone entered the other woman’s voice as she added uncharastically poetic and somber, “With thick pines all around and the mountain side filled with moonlight. So bright, so beautiful.”

A memory misty with age, tugged on Anna then, of a similar scene up in much younger mountains full of newly matured evergreens untouched by man’s saw and a cliffside no mere human could reach easily. How the crisp night’s air was more a biting chill on her exposed legs as they dangled carelessly over the edge, confident she was safe despite the lethal drop. Snug in a cocoon of heavy fur blankets, her back slumped comfortably against a firm surface. The heat being radiated was warm enough to tempt her to peel back the blankets, and the gentle lull of the motion behind her was rocking her to sleep, eyelids fighting the inevitable. She was up here to observe the stars without interference but it’d been a mere half hour and she was already losing the fight with slumber, all the stress and worries of the project having worn her down into a shell. It was so… quiet here… so safe and peaceful… so unspoilt by war. It was hard not to flinch when the tail flew up, swift and accurate, but it merely landed beneath Anna’s legs, drawing them up off the ledge and curling around her. A snout nudged her in apology from behind, knocking into her shoulder so hard she jolted and laughed ruefully. Crimson entered her vision as the a large horned head curled around, tucking her in, large bioluminescent eye already closed and breath deepening, and Anna smiled, settling back to look up at the stars, safe in the dragon’s claws…

Jolting back into the present, she took a long moment to smell the bay and listen to the screams of the circling gulls and stare across the sapphire blue waves dotted with cheerful fishing boats. It was lovely, anyone’s dream.

But it was just not… right.

Instead she pulled out a map, peering over it with intense scrutiny, before sighing and crumpling it up violently. In her annoyance, she forgot herself. Again.

“Your Universe One is a menace.”

If she was expecting an apology, which she wasn’t, she would have been disappointed. Irene shrugged her shoulders then, lip jutted out in a tiny bit of a pout, and replied as she sagged against the rail a bit to stand up straight, “I was planning to return it as it was… but Erza broke my magical container. Such a horrible little child, that one. I didn’t have enough magic to put it all back. Anna? Anna, surely you understand! I did give it a good try… most of it went back… all the important places in any case.”

Anna mentally questioned what she considered important but kept her mouth pressed firmly shut. Her lips were starting to burn from the pressure and her throat tickled. She’d spent decades shutting up and it was becoming a difficult and impossible thing to do, she was finding out, now that she was free to speak with nothing but her own sensibilities to hold her tongue.

Whatever. What was the point in silence now? If she was stuck with this other woman, she may as well use it to her own advantage and speak her mind fully. It’d be cathartic.

Puffing up, she got ready to give Irene a piece of her mind about using magic irresponsibly, which was completely useless now but relevant and probably counted towards her community service of rehabilitation if she gave a lecture about magical mindfulness, when Irene cut her off with a careless motion.

“Besides, my magic is all gone now. All of it.” A hint of remorse had crept into her tone, although Anna suspected she just felt sorry for herself more than anything for having her wicked deed punished. The look on her face didn’t look particularly repentant nor sorry though, eyes hard with thinly concealed fury and mouth set in a wobbly smirk that refused to settle. Bitterness. Resentment. “After all, they made sure to render their conquered helpless and then claim compassion and mercy while releasing them to the wolves.” The smirk curled into a bit of a snarl thing, flashing an actual sharp canine fang that was most certainly not that of a full human, and her pupils turned to cat-like slits, “But magic does not a dragon make, and I await the day they learn this lesson the hard way.”

Paling a bit, all annoyance flushed away, all of Erza’s warning echoing in her head, Anna cleared her throat then, skin still prickling and crawling at the snap of dangerous crackling fury. Swallowing a bit, refusing to look ruffled, it was a rough reminder that this woman was not simply a childish shadow but an ex-Spriggan as well.

“Why don’t we try the mountains then?” she offered once she could get the words past her tight throat and Irene’s countenance cleared immediately as she clapped her hands a bit with delight, “You said ‘we’ Anna!”

“Yes, yes I did. Now come along. If we hurry, I am sure we can catch the next train before nightfall.”

As expected, the patter-pattering started up immediately, but somehow with a bit more... pep? Anna felt a certain kind of doom settling but fought it off.

What was the worse that could happen anyway?

#mine

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