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sakiyo · 3 years

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━ # ONE A.M EYELINER | suna rintaro

+ pairings: suna rintaro/reader

+ tags: best friends 2 lovers, suna being a pretty mf, mutual pining, uni!au.

+ warnings: none

+ word count: 2.2k

+ summary: suna rintaro has never let you do his eyeliner, simply because he’s afraid to let you get too close.

+ listening to: FLESH by miguel & A Warm Touch of Light by Isabella LeVan

+ note: nothing but me rambling on about how pretty suna’s eyes are and how they’re pretty enough to deserve a whole fic dedicated to them. dedicated to my dom @kiyoomae i hope you enjoy babe because i finished this shitty fic for you <3.

“i could get hypothermia if i go out there, you know.”

working with suna always ended up the same way, there was no doubt about it. by the time that the clock plastered on your wall hit twelve-forty five a.m, the project was finished, but completely half assed as a result of neither of you paying enough attention during lectures to actually know what to do. yet, somehow, the same desultory assignment would always receive an undeserving ‘A-plus’. mostly because your professor never cared to actually observe the material, as long as it was in, it was good enough for him. [but you would grade it a solid 64 percent]

there's one variable that’s different today; it’s raining. it’s one a.m and it’s raining, and suna decided that it would be a sublime idea to walk to your apartment today, of all days. [as much as you encourage him to do so, he still never checks the weather]. the disruption in your routine was anything but an easy adjustment. and as much as you wanted to kick him out, the rain was growing heavier and heavier and—

“okay fine! you can crash for the night!”

he smiled, unaware of the fact that you would have said yes to him either way.

+++

you can’t help but notice that suna has pretty eyes.

honestly, you picked up on his bizarrely unique vulpine-like eyes years ago, when you had first met him. but now, as you sit on the couch that occupies the majority of your compact living room, you’re drawn back to them.

its an odd thought to think about your best friend at one in the morning.

but...he’s admittedly pretty.

you think back to a random fact you learned in the biology course you took in your third year of highschool; you grow into your eyes. never in your life did you believe that such a miniscule piece of information would find its way back into your mind two years later, and because of suna no less.

it’s one a.m and your legs are situated in his lap, his fingers deftly toying with the tip of the anklet he bought you for your sixteenth birthday [he doesn’t believe that you still wear it, even after all the passed time],

but you’re still fixated on his eyes.

if it was even possible, the creases accented them further, like each line was strategically placed to lure one’s undivided attention to them. it’s funny though, because suna was never fond of attention. [which was also why seven year old rin never took a liking to overly-exertive you.

you still share a laugh with him thinking back to your rock hard resolve as a child and his burning desire to stay away from you.

it’s funny how easily time changes things.]

you almost feel like you’re dreaming as you watch his eyelids ghost over, his glassy skin reflecting the coral tint of the cheap ceiling light. but you’re not dreaming, he’s right there, in all his ignorant glory. suna doesn’t notice your residual gaze, he’s fixated on the ‘NBA playoffs highlights’ video streaming on his instagram feed. yet you feel creepy, overanalyzing him like this.

but you allow your mind to wander, just a bit.

“hey, rintaro?” you lightly dig your heel into his thigh.

it’s merely a sporadic case of wishful thinking. you’ve known suna rintaro for many years, which was more than enough time to figure out his complex personality.

and if there’s one thing he never allowed you to do, it was his eyeliner.

six times.

you had asked to apply the liquid to his eyes six times, and each time you had received the same answer. a simple no. he doesn’t say ‘no’ with malice, though. no...the last thing he would want is you thinking that he just hated you enough to constantly reject your proposals.

suna hums quietly, shifting to meet your gaze. “yeah?”

he still thinks you haven’t caught on, but you picked up on his tendency to immediately drop his phone in a reflex to hearing your voice a while back— you like it.

“do you think,” you shift your legs from the comfort of his lap and move your body closer to him, “i could do your eyeliner?”

your question doesn’t register.

instead, suna’s hyper fixated on the inching proximity between you two— he doesn’t like it. it’s one a.m and you’re moving one couch cushion closer, your knee is brushing against his thigh, has your skin always been this cold? he can barely focus, but he still hears the droplets of rain assaulting the window and roofs, they’re getting louder and louder and—

“suna? did you hear me?” your voice is accompanied with slight confusion.

you narrow your eyes as he blinks out of his trance. you’re not shocked though— his tendencies to space out were never limited to lectures alone. “wha?”

your shoulder rests against his, and he swears he feels his heart cease its rhythmic palpitations for a fraction of a second.

[no you idiot, that’s just your regular heartbeat.]

there’s apprehension in your voice, “can i...do your eyeliner…?” suna is a relatively simple man, the worst he can say is no, but you want a yes this time around.

“i’ve already said—”

suna’s breath hitches, as if his words are lodged at the back of his throat. your fingers grip onto the peak of his broad shoulders. [you’d rather die than admit it, but you always loved when he’d roll them back and inconspicuously stretch his neck]

suna stares at you squarely in the face. he can feel the outline of your fingernails lightly tacking into his skin. shit, he’s dreaming. his eyes shift around the room, it’s still one a.m, and he can’t get any words out of his mouth.

speak, speak, SPEAK—

you beat him to it.

“before you say no!” your voice rises as you try to appeal. “i’m letting you crash at my place for the night, i deserve a payment.” your words come out as more of a jumbled mess than a proper sentence. subconsciously, you take your bottom lip between your thumb and index fingers, biting it every now and then. suna lifts a brow at your familiar mannerisms— he likes to think he knows you better than anyone else, and he knows that you toy with your bottom lip before taking a test, receiving a report card, or going in for a job interview.

are you nervous?

he sighs.

“fine…” he whispers softly. suna doesn’t exactly know if he should regret agreeing to your question, but he doesn’t miss the way your eyes visibly light up when he does.

you look pretty.

+++

he regrets it.

it’s one a.m and you’re situated on his lap, straddling him innocently as you dab the brush into the bottle of ebony ink. suna can’t help but feel like a putty in your hands, the same ones that gently grip his jaw to hold it in place.

he’s still not sure how old he was when your touches started to feel like fire.

suna feels trapped, he IS trapped. between your legs, between your soft body and the tender cushion, between the thin line of friendship and-

he should stop.

[he still can’t believe he’s doing this]

“would you like thin, or thick eyeliner, rin?”

has his name always rolled off your tongue so effortlessly?

“thin, like yours.”

you hum with content, looking him over with a small smile etched onto your face. he doesn’t understand how you can keep eye contact with him so easily, especially while you’re moving closer and closer to his chest.

he holds his breath as you exhale. he can still smell the lingering scent of peppermint from the gum you were chewing minutes before– usually he can’t stand it, but right now it feels like home. suna knows his eyes shouldn’t be trailing down to your cherry balm stained lips, and he knows that his chest shouldn’t swell at the sight of you wearing his old bleach stained t-shirt that stretched past your shorts.

suna knows that he’s not supposed to see his best friend in that light; so why is it all that he can think about?

“close your eyes for me please?”

he really doesn’t want to, afraid that if he opens them back up again, you’ll be gone and he’ll be in his bed [he still believes that he’s dreaming]. but he knows that he’d rather dance with the devil [the twins] than say no to you, so he complies.

you hum a light tune to yourself as you bring the fine-tipped brush to the edge of his eye. as the pen glides across his skin, suna can’t help but flinch at the intrusive feeling. instinctively, his hand darts up to hold your wrist, stopping you from drawing any further.

“that feels weird.” he can’t see, but he can feel the smile tugging at your lips.

“you’ll get used to it in a bit, rin.”

it’s weird, best friends don’t usually sit in each other’s lap with less than five inches of breathing room between each other. what if he were to do this with one of the twins–

that’s a disturbing thought. he immediately forgets about it. he shifts in discomfort mid-stroke, making your hand slip.

you groan in frustration; it’s at times like this that you can’t stand suna.

“stop moving! you made it smudge!” you lightly smack his chest [though, it’s just a pitiful excuse to touch him].

“sorry, sorry.” your giggles die down as you clean up the line, and suna quickly goes back to overthinking.

tik

the rain is still pouring.

tok

he counts that you breathe twice every ten seconds.

tik

you’re getting closer to his chest.

tok

he can still smell the leftover pizza on the coffee table from today’s takeout.

tik

the gel feels kind of nice now.

tok

its one a.m and suna’s falling in love with–

“earth to suna?” you huff as you lightly tap his shoulder, “don’t tell me that you’ve fallen asleep on me.” it’s quite funny to him when you say that; you’re actually what keeps him up at night.

you lean back as he opens his eyes, looking at the eyeliner from afar. you can’t help but get a bit jealous– even without trying, suna had always managed to look perfect.

you’re so caught up that you don’t notice yourself starting to slip.

“watch out.” his hand slips around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

it’s one a.m and your hands are back on his shoulders. you know that your eyes shouldn’t be on his slightly chapped lips, and you know that you shouldn’t want to throw the hoodie adorning his body somewhere across the room.

inhale

his hands are still around your waist.

exhale

you watch as his tongue ghosts over his lips to wet them.

inhale

you can smell the residual scent of the same cinnamon cologne you got him for a ‘secret santa’ event between your friend group.

exhale

sometimes, you forget that you’re just friends.

inhale

has suna always been this attractive?

exhale

the tipped over bottle of eyeliner is spilling onto your clothes.

inhale

how would his lips feel against–

“wanna kiss you.” the hesitation in suna’s voice is clear. he knows better than anyone that best friends shouldn’t want to kiss each other. his heart is racing. when your eyes widen in surprise he wants nothing more than to push you off of him and leave without saying goodbye– but he’s already said it.

“w-what?” you stutter out. you can’t help but wonder if you’re dreaming. you want to pinch yourself, but if it is a dream, the last thing you’d want is to wake up.

“i want to kiss you. will you let me?” he says, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

little does he know that you want more; to touch him, taste him, love him–

you take the easy way out instead, “yeah...alright.”

he moves a stray strand of hair away from your face, is he doing this right? You move in closer, eyes slowly fluttering shut, but suna’s gaze still lingers on you. he thinks you look even more beautiful than before [he didn’t think it was possible]. It’s one a.m and he’s about to kiss the person of his dreams.

shit. he should close his eyes.

the journey seems like forever, but you both finally feel each other.

no, his lips don’t ghost over yours.

they press together, full of pent up passion. it’s hot, too hot for even best friends.

can you even call each other that anymore?

not with the way his hands claw at the tip of your shirt in a futile attempt of pulling you closer to him, not with the way you gather tufts of his hair in your hands, and certainly not at the way you both feel at home like this. you both can taste every last inch of each other.

he swears that he hates peppermint, but he’s drunk on the taste of it on your tongue.

you’re meant to be nothing more than childhood best friends, but you want more and more and MORE.

this shouldn’t be happening, but he wants more and more and MORE–

you both break for air after an eternity, pulling away with heat-flushed faces, heaving chests, and swollen lips. he rests his forehead against yours, peppering ghost-kisses between breaths that tickle your skin.

“i’m not supposed to love you, but i do.”

it’s two a.m, and two best friends are melting into each other.

they’re unaware that the rain has stopped.

#ending lowkey did not turnout the way i wanted but it’s decent #suna rintarou #suna rintaro x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #.my works

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mythgirlimagines · 3 years

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After seeing the glowing reputation of the Things That Never Happened talentswaps by the fellow Anons, I decided to try this again! Introducing the hybrid setter-spiker-libero superstar and the Former Ultimate Volleyball Player, Myth!

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BACKSTORY AND TALENT

With two older siblings who had past experience with volleyball, Myth has been taught by her sisters ever since she was little. The constant practice with her older sisters made her a practical powerhouse, by the time she made it to middle school. Her passion for volleyball, despite her diminutive height, drove her to attend Hatohane Girl’s Academy, a high school famous for their prestigious powerhouse of a volleyball team. Within days of attending the club, she proved herself to be a formidable ally and an even more formidable enemy, for she is able to assimilate herself into just about any position on the court, even positions that require height (for she has one of the most impressive verticals, this side of the academy). Her enemies consider her a “wild card”, for she is utterly unpredictable in her gameplay, and you better believe that she wears her title on her sleeve. In fact, she once played against an entire team, while her other teammates are out sick, and she managed to wipe the floor with them. This action alone is what catapulted her into stardom and granted her a spot at Hope’s Peak Academy. In her adult years, she’s working hard at a top-tier professional girl’s team, known as the Sunset Pegasi. But she is currently taking some time off to chaperone this year’s Ultimates and Jr. Ultimates.

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RELATIONSHIPS

Wyre Anon, Former Ultimate Carpenter

Wyre has been Myth’s volleyball teammate ever since middle school (as a wing spiker), and has been her best friend for even longer, thanks to their similar competitive natures, despite Wyre’s wild and expressive personality clashing heavily against Myth’s stoic and disciplined personality. The natural muscles they got from working at thejr father’s carpentry shop really made them a valuable asset in just about any sport they put their mind to, with volleyball being a major favorite of theirs. Imagine Myth and Wyre’s mutual elation, when they both got accepted into Hope’s Peak. Wyre was so elated, that they carved a large wooden sculpture of the two of them holding hands in victory.

Outfit: A purple stripe in her hair that matches Myth, protective orange goggles, an orange and brown flannel shirt, a dark brown leather tool-belt, blue jeans, off-white socks, brown steel-toed boots.

Anon Scar, Ultimate Screenwriter

Famous for screenwriting in both action media and horror media, Scar originally wanted to be an actress, but her natural stage fright meant that she had to settle for behind-the-scenes work. Luckily for her, she proved to be excellent at both sketching out action/horror scenes and writing the very scene out, making her the mastermind behind several recent blockbuster movies. In an attempt to “fake it until she makes it”, Scar tries to project the personality of her favorite archetypes: “The Dark Lord of Script”. But as Myth very quickly figured out, she’s not doing a particularly good job of it, for when she shows concern for her conmates (which is all the time, by the way), her true personality resurfaces.

Outfit: A black and white striped sweater, a purple and red vampire cape, a matching long skirt, stockings, boots and gloves from original design.

Fusion Anon, Ultimate Linguist

As a child, Fusion showed a surprising aptitude and interest in the countries of the world, with their languages and their food being what he mainly specializes in. Fusion’s parents quickly signed him up for language courses, and time after time, Fusion picked up the languages left and right. As of his acceptance, Fusion can speak ten languages on a conversational level, and can read and write in twice as many languages. Fusion is currently running a foreign language tutoring business, and even holds seminars at the Kibo-Con for the other Ultimates. Myth thinks that Fusion’s seminars would be a valuable asset, for when she’s playing against international teams, so her attendance is perfect.

Outfit: A grey bomber jacket with country flags lining his sleeves, black fingerless gloves, red and white sneakers, glasses, undershirt and pants from his original design.

Fusion Anon II, Ultimate Hiker

Famous for besting mountains many people claim to be impossible, the numerous selfies that Fusion II takes of her travels all prove her claims that she bested the tallest of mountains, all with the signature smirk on her face. But despite the confidence and charisma she carries in her selfies, she actually has a massive nerdy side that she would much rather keep hidden. Myth found it confusing on how two Anons could share the same name, but based on the father-daughter behavior that occurs between the two Fusions, Myth has a hypothesis made. That being said, Myth shows respect for her kohai, and will always be there to boost up Fusion II’s ego, whenever she’s feeling down.

Outfit: Diamond-crusted sunglasses, a light blue parka with white fluff and matching winter gloves, brown cargo pants, matching steel-toed boots.

Just Anon, Ultimate Tree Climber

Originally climbing trees to escape teachers and other bothersome individuals, Janon was eventually nicknamed “Chameleon”, for his extraordinary skills in climbing up and camouflaging himself in the trees. While Myth normally has an inhuman amount of patience regarding more defiant and disrespectful underclassmen, Janon’s blatant disrespect towards his all his senpais (apart from the gardener), makes her want to spike a volleyball directly into his face. But upon seeing Janon interact with and actually showing affection and respect towards his kohais, Myth gained a newfound respect for Janon, that she never thought she would gain. If only Janon could start respecting his senpais.

Outfit: A camo-colored army helmet and matching hoodie, brown pants and black boots.

Sparkle Anon, Former Ultimate Sprinter

With a bombastic, loud, and flashy appearance and the personality to match, it’s very hard to miss the appearance of Sparkle, when she is on the racing track. Sparkle is particularly known across the internet for sprinting in ridiculous costumes, in order to assist charities across the world. Myth was happy, upon finding out that she would be accompanied in her chaperoning by a fellow athlete, even if their personalities are like oil and water. They regularly meet in the Kibo-Con gym to exercise, while exchanging fitness plans and mutually fangirling over each other, for they’ve both seen each other‘s competitions, and are impressed by what they’ve seen from each other.

Outfit: Hair in a bob being held by a red and white headband, a red and white sparkling tank-top with her name on the front and blue sparkly shorts, long white socks, and shoes that match her tank-top, a black and white checkered flag slung over her shoulders like a cape.

Egg Anon, Former Ultimate Gardener, and Wet Sock Anon, Former Ultimate Liar

Famous for managing one of the largest and most breathtakingly gorgeous botanical masterpieces ever known to man, Egg was introduced to Myth as an only child. But what Myth doesn’t know, is that, in interviews, Egg pulls the classic “twin-switch” trick and has their twin Wet Sock masquerade as them, while blowing up their reputation with lies of commission and omission. Even in their stay at the Kibo-Con, the duo regularly intact the twin switch to such an extent that most Anons didn’t even know of Wet Sock’s existence (apart from Eldritch, but nobody believes him, because, well, he’s Eldritch), and passing off the times Wet Sock’s been seen out of costume as morning-induced delirium.

Outfit: A straw hat, a yellow and green flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up, blue jeans with dirty knees and green gloves and matching rain boots

Curious Anon, Jr. Ultimate Finder

After their classmates realized that Curious had an excellent eye for details and a helpful and altruistic spirit, they quickly used Curious like their personal finder for lost objects. Eventually, Curious got paid to help people from all around their hometown find lost objects, pets, and even people. Myth has quite the watchful eye, so she barely, if ever, needs Curious’s help in finding objects that she happened to misplace. But she is willing to misplace objects on purpose, if it means getting a smile and a look of pride and accomplishment on the face of her kohai. Curious reminds Myth of some of her kohais: desperate for praise and lives for validation.

Outfit: A black gakuran with a magnified glass clipped to their belt and a matching hat and shoes.

Anon Nerd, Former Ultimate Sharpshooter

With an unparalleled bullseye streak and temper issues of an equally unparalleled caliber, Anon Nerd is a name to be feared in competitions, and for good reasons, considering Nerd’s volcanic temper and sheer skill at shooting targets despite that. If someone even slightly wrongs him, they risk getting shot with one of his prized rifles. Considering Myth’s stoic and composed attitude and Nerd being the complete opposite, one would think that they would never get along. But, shockingly enough, Nerd considers Myth to be the only one (apart from the other Brain Cells), to not be a complete and utter dolt. They regularly like testing their accuracy in each other’s sports, with Myth faring better at shooting.

Outfit: A brown and dark green bomber jacket, red tinted sunglasses, blue jeans, brown sneakers, a red rifle strapped to his back.

Eldritch Anon, Ultimate Tattoo Artist

Growing up in one of the seediest underground communities, rife with scum and villainy, Eldritch is famed all around town for his skill in tattooing the people of his town with anti-government and pro-anarchy tattoos on visible parts of their body, as protest to the government that put them in this horrible condition in the first place. Eldritch can’t trust anybody who doesn’t have a special tattoo inked by Eldritch himself, up to and included his own conmates. He especially can’t trust Myth and her stoic and unpredictable demeanor. The thought of one of her kohais being scared of her brings Myth to internal tears. Myth is currently attempted (unsuccessful) senpai-kohai trust exercises.

Outfit: Hair being completely shaved on the right side, black eyeshadow, a black sleeveless hoodie that shows off his various anti-government tattoos, blue jeans and knee-high black boots.

Dream Anon, Ultimate Confidant

Known around her school as the most trustworthy girl her schoolmates know, Dream organized a secret room in the school, in case any of her classmates need to talk about their secrets and vent to an optimistic and loving role model figure. Ever since Dream met Myth, her idol in athletics, she knew that her senpai had common ground with her, for they both share a passion for volleyball and show endless support to each other. Besides, Dream always wanted to crack the tough nut and unpredictable beast that is the Iron Wall of Hatohane. Surely, someone as stoic and unmovable as Myth must have some secrets and she’ll always be there to support her senpai in a rough patch.

Outfit: A dark grey ski cap with heart pins on it, a pink and grey hoodie over a black shirt with a red heart on the front, shorts, socks and shoes from her original design.

Iris Anon, Jr. Ultimate Surfer

As the daughter of two parents who own the local beach house, Iris has been living by the ocean ever since she was little, and she has efficiently mastered the art of catching the biggest and most gnarly of waves, earning her the attention of entire fleets of preteen ladies, which is also helped by her adorable personality and her adoration of marine biology. Iris’s passionate and optimistic attitude reminds Myth of some of her younger kohais and for that reason, Myth attached herself to the cheery water-lover. Being a fellow athlete helps matters. Myth also introduced Iris to beach volleyball, and Iris was more or less a complete natural. Needless to say, Myth was impressed at her kohai taking on her craft.

Outfit: Hair tied into rings, pink swim goggles, a pink swimsuit top, a galaxy printed sarong around a matching pink swimsuit bottom, galaxy printed flipflops.

Purple Anon, Ultimate Emergency Planner

As the daughter of only the biggest CEOs in the entire nation, Purple learned of the dangers that many people in the large and cramped offices face on a daily basis. From there, Purple knew that she had to take matters into her own hands, and begin stocking up and preparing for every work emergency under the sun, whether that’ll be economic or physical. These duties instilled her with a timid attitude and a natural motherly instinct, and of course, that’ll extend to her conmates and chaperones. Every time Myth gets injuries on or off the court, Purple would always be right behind her, with her medical kit in tow, as well as a healthy (if needlessly verbose) reminder to not overwork herself.

Outfit: An off-white hard hat, a black safety vest over a purple sweater, a black and white striped skirt with a fully-stocked emergency belt, purple stockings, black boots.

This series would center around everyone getting to know the stoic iron wall, who secretly has a soft spot for all of her dorky kohai.

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PERSONALITY

Volleyball!Myth is known by her opponents as an utterly unpredictable beast, but to her teammates, she is heavily supportive and kind-hearted, despite her quiet and stoic demeanor, which clashes heavily against her more loud and flashy appearance. She has a particular soft spot for her kohais, and loves it when people show respect and look up to her. In a height-dominant sport like volleyball, Volleyball!Myth used to have hangups regarding her height, but constant support from her family and middle school teammates gave her the much-needed confidence boost to strut onto the court in all of her 5 FT 3 IN glory. Volleyball!Myth is surprisingly hard on herself, for she spends practically all of her time practicing, claiming that she still has room for improvement and needs to push herself even harder. Only her childhood friend Carpenter!Wyre can convince her to chill out and take a break for once.

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APPEARANCE

Volleyball!Myth wears her natural brown hair in a ponytail with a purple skunk stripe down the middle and also wears black sports glasses. Volleyball!Myth simply wears the uniform of the Sunset Pegasi, which consists of the following: a blue jacket over an orange jersey with a yellow sun design and a big number “6” on the front, shorts that match her jersey and red shoes with white soles and laces.

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Luckily, I was able to use all of my Haikyuu knowledge to help write Myth. In Haikyuu terms, Myth is like a mix between Nishinoya, Aone, Ushijima and Tendou (with Hinata’s height and vertical). I hope that you like this swap, and I’d love to hear what the others think of it!

-Fusion Anon

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sasuhinasno1fan · 3 years

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Crushing on the rival-Lukadrien June Day 3

Ok, yes I’m technically late, but I don’t care! I wanted to do a Glee AU so bad and this was so hard to do. Usually when reading Glee Klaine fics as lukadrien, Nino is at Dalton since either Nick or Jeff becomes Kurt’s best friend and you can’t split up Nino and Adrien. So Nino attended for a while before budget cuts messed up his scholarship. Kieran is from @depressed-teacup-inc and @sarcasticsparkles Divergence. I meant for him to featured just a little more but it just didn’t work out like that. Adrien’s mom is alive but is spliting up with his dad and I put Chloe in Rachel’s position when it came to dating the enemy first since it always comes up in Anderberry fics when Rachel doesn’t say who Blaine is because she doesn’t want to be accused of selling secrets to her brother. Anyway, please enjoy and we’ll see if day 4 actually comes out. Rival Musicians

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Nino said, adjusting his white tie. He’d forgotten how much he hadn’t been a fan of the Quantic Academy uniform. The pale blue shirts with the black blazers and white ties weren’t his aesthetic and even though it sucked to lose his scholarship, he’d been beyond happy to never put the uniform on again. He looked over to Marc and Nath, who seemed to pull it off with ease.

Totally unfair.

“I can’t believe you let Alya and Marinette bully you into coming to spy.” Nath said.

“No you’re not.” Marc clarified. “Remember how we got together?”

“Yeah, no. this fits perfectly. We should just be glad Chloe wasn’t the one to find out you used to go to school with our competitor. That would have been worse.”

“Yeah, especially since we all experienced her dating the ‘enemy’ last year. Last thing I need is her accusing me of giving secrets away. I really don’t want to bring up her asshole ex in her face. She’s finally starting to open up again.” Nino said.

“Where’s Adrien?” Marc asked, changing the subject. “You made it sound like we have a small window.”

“We do. Assuming things haven’t changed in a year, teachers take the afternoon to have a meeting while letting the students study and such. Or in the Warbler’s case, have impromptu performances to test songs out. If we don’t want to get caught, we need to be there when the mass text goes out and everyone is heading to the Senior Commons.”

Just then, a very familiar silver car pulled up in front of the boys. Adrien climbed out, in a black leather jacket and a white rocker tie but still in the same colours.

“Sorry I’m late. Mom promised the appointment would be over before I had to leave, but divorce proceedings involving my dad aren’t exactly easy. They were arguing over my ‘modelling’ career for a full hour before my mom’s lawyer managed to shut my dad up. I think, that woman speaks like a pirate and is just as ruthless and doesn’t like my dad, so she could have been insulting him for all I know.”

“Sorry you have to deal with this.” Nino said, patting his best friend on his shoulder.

“You haven’t modelled for almost 3 years. Your ‘career’ is just your dad reusing old photos of you for campaigns.” Nath said. “We can only hope we don’t have another instance like when it was your first day at school and you ran into the glee room to hide from your fans.”

“But, hey! We got you out of it.” Nino said. “You stick out like a sore thumb though.”

“It’s not my fault. You said you had enough extra uniforms. You’re the one who didn’t include yourself in the count. Let’s just be happy I have enough clothes to make an iteration of it.” Adrien said.

“Fair enough. Come on.”

All four of them walked into the main building. It was beautiful, a mix of old architecture and new, like a classic hotel or something along the lines. They slowed when Nino did as they approached the front desk, which was thankfully empty with a note to call when arrived.

“I’m so happy the headmaster uses the front desk secretary as his own. I mean, she gives as good as she gets and doesn’t take shit, but she’s also got a practical eidetic memory.” Nino said. “Ok, now there’s a student that we called the Caterpillar – he lived in my dorm and everyone had Alice in Wonderland names – who has access to everyone’s phone number and he’s in the Warblers, so he sends out a massive text message to everyone.”

“How are we even sure they’re planning on doing a performance?” Adrien asked.

“We don’t but I know so close to competition time Marin would want to practise when they have the chance, so at the very least we can peak into the Senior Commons were they practise.”

They got to the first hallway and Adrien saw that what he thought ground level was actually the first floor.

“Cafeteria is downstairs and exits for the gardens and the library. This floor holds some classrooms and common rooms, more classrooms and offices upstairs. The Senior Commons is actually down the hall and downstairs. They got first pick when the place was being built and it has the closest exit to where the dorms are.”

“Should we hang near there or somewhere else?” Nath asked.

However, before Nino could offer a suggestion, the one thing Adrien dreaded pierced through the empty and quite hallway.

“Ohmygod! It’s Adrien Agreste!”

Adrien liked anime, especially the feel-good ones. The one he liked the most was Gakuen Babysitter. The scene before him reminded him of when the twins’ father, a famous actor came to school and was found out by one of the students and suddenly the area around him were swarming with fans. What happened was a bit like that, except screaming boys instead of girls and Adrien actually got a head start in running away.

Nino hated his best friend had to suffer through this, so when he was separated from him and the rest of the guys and only found Marc and Nath not long after, he felt worried.

“Where’s Adrien?”

“We thought he was with you.”

“Ok, screw Marinette and Alya telling us not to get caught.” Nino said, pulling his phone out and scrolling through his contacts until he reached one with the name being just a butterfly emoji. “If they want info, they can come look themselves. My best friend is in a school that’s not desensitized to him being around and we’re find him before we leave.”

Of course, before he could call, he saw a text from the same butterfly named person.

I’m gonna let Marin yell at you for coming to spy.

Nino cursed. He’d been hoping to avoid that. Marinette and Alya were bad and Chloe worse, but Marin lording over him with his gavel, that was something he didn’t miss from attending school here.

But don’t worry. A certain blue haired Hatter was placed in the little Alice’s path. He’ll take care of him. Also, I know a certain March Hare misses you too.

Ok, maybe he’d have to kiss that Caterpillar after all.

____________________

Adrien slowly opened the door after finally hearing the hallway fill up and all move in one direction. Everyone was speaking excitedly, so no one noticed Adrien slipping out and joining the crowd. He looked around, hoping to see 3 familiar faces but no luck. he didn’t even know if this crowd was people going to see the Warblers. He bit his lip, trying to decide what to do. He could ask and then be in a bad spot if someone recognised him or he could ask what was going on and duck into a bathroom if it wasn’t Warblers related. He decided to risk it.

“Excuse me,” he said, tapping someone on the shoulder. The guy had dyed blue hair and when he turned around Adrien saw he had the piercings to match his punk look. The uniform really didn’t match him at all. “Hi, I’m new here. What’s going on?”

He gave Adrien this smirk as if to say, ‘I know why you’re here’. “I’m Luka.”

“Adrien, nice to meet you.”

“Adrien. Well, don’t worry, I won’t scream your name. and to answer your question, the Warblers are doing an impromptu performance.”

“Oh.”

“If you want, I can take you there. You know, bump into your friends who came to spy with you.”

“S-spy? I didn’t come to spy.”

“Right, so your lack of uniform and Nino being here is a happy coincidence.”

Adrien couldn’t really think of a lie, so thrown off. He let out a squeak when Luka grabbed his hand and pulled him down the hallway. This one was emptier and Adrien took a closer at Luka. his uniform was perfect but his shoes were emblem covered high tops. His nails were painted and fingers home to a few rings. He also noticed a few bracelets peaking out from under shirt sleeve. Luka seemed like such an anomaly in his perfect uniform but things that spoke to his personal aesthetic.

Before he knew it, they were back in a crowd as they entered a room, no doubt the Senior Commons.

“Shot, I do stick out like a sore thumb.” Adrien said, once he saw himself compared to everyone.

“I don’t know, I like your version better.” Luka said, tugging at one of the lapels of Adrien’s leather jacket. “Your friends are over there.” He nodded towards the door, where Marc, Nath and Nino were, all standing on their toes trying to look over the crowd. Nino got distracted by someone with light brown hair and purple rain boots, but Marc and Nath spotted him.

“How did…?”

“I’m sure Nino will tell you about the special ways of the Warblers.” Just at the front of the room, 2 lines of boys appeared as they started to create a beat. “Now if you excuse me. Kieran!”

The guy Nino had been talking to darted over to the lines and Adrien took his place, hearing his friends ask him what happened and if he was ok, but his attention was focused on Luka, who stood in the very front singing.

Before you met me, I was alright But things were kinda heavy, you brought me to life Now every February, you'll be my Valentine Valentine

Let's go all the way tonight No regrets, just love We can dance until we die You and I will be young forever You make me feel like I'm living a teenage dream

He was good, really good. And he kept staring right at Adrien.

“That’s Luka. we were roommates when I was here.” Nino said, finally getting his attention. “He was well on his way to being lead vocalist when I left.”

“He’s really good.”

“Yeah. Don’t let his accessories fool you, he’s a cool guy.”

Yeah, he was.

When the song was over and the room burst into loud applause, cheers and whistles, Luka found his way over, with the same guy who’d been talking to Nino before and two new people. They reminded him a bit of Marinette and Alya, though one of them had a sever expression currently directed at Nino.

“You come spy and you don’t even come to say hello? I’m ashamed of you Nino.” The one who reminded Adrien of Marinette said.

“Please give it a rest Marin.” Nino begged.

“No, no, let him suffer more. I’m enjoying this.” Kieran said.

“Just to check, you’re not going to report us, right?” Marc asked, looking nervous.

“Don’t worry. Your attempts are endearing and we know Nino wouldn’t bring you over here without good reason.” The other guy said. “we’re not planning on using that song for the Sectionals, so you won’t go home empty handed.”

“How about coffee? Nino doesn’t know this, but we finally opened the coffee bar in the cafeteria, student run. We can stay here if you want.” Luka offered.

In the end, Adrien waited in the room, with Nino getting dragged to be lectured by his old friends and Nath and Marc having such complicated orders, it just made more sense to go with them. Adrien looked around the commons, taking in the couches and many side tables. A few had an almost permanent show print in them, like they’d been jumped on. The few people inside the room still paid his no attention, other than glancing at him.

“Here you go.” Luka said, handing him a to go cup. “Nino mentioned you didn’t like coffee so I got you hot chocolate. Better than most cafes, we make our own with milk.”

“Thanks. Where are the others?”

“Kieran is still making Marin lecture Nino and it turns out Alan is a fan of your friends’ comic, so just me for now.”

“That’s fine. Maybe you can tell me why the tables have footprints on them.” Adrien said, tugging his jacket off as Luka plopped down next to him.

“I have a habit of jumping around on tables during practise. Marin yells at me for it, but I can’t help it. Which is surprising, since I’m pretty stationary during performances.”

Adrien let out a little laugh. “You sound like my cat. Doesn’t matter how many cat perches we have for him; he just climbs up anywhere else. Granted, focusing on him and glee has been a godsend for my mental health recently.”

“Yeah, I’m sure dealing with arguing parents and divorce isn’t easy.”

Adrien looked over at Luka, confused as to how he knew that.

“Oh, yeah. My mom is your mom’s lawyer.” Adrien raised an eyebrow not believing him. “She sounds like this.” Luka said in the same thick accent Anarka had.

“Holy, hey wait. Juleka is Anarka’s daughter, which means she’s…”

“My sister. Competing against each other, but don’t worry. Music is sacred in our house so we don’t play dirty.”

“Whoa.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t go fishing for anything. I just thought that things must be pretty difficult. Your dad makes mom pretty upset.”

“Yeah. It hasn’t been easy. The whole divorce hasn’t but this modelling thing is making things worse. Honestly, I’d be happy with glee drama. It’s the only thing that feels like it makes sense.”

“I get that. I’m older than Juleka, but I’ll be graduating at the same time as her because I ended up pulling out of school for a while. During all that, music was the only thing that made sense.”

“Was everything ok?” Adrien asked.

“Come here.” Luka led Adrien over to a piano that sat in the corner. “Take a breath and listen.” He ordered, resting his fingers on the keys. He watched Adrien do as he was told and he let his fingers move across the keys.

Adrien stared as he heard the emotions he’d been feeling were played. Every note and beat was everything.

“I’ve never been good at words. Mom struggled to get me to talk but she knew I liked music, so that started to become my voice. I guess the easiest way to explain it is I’m an empath. I can hear emotions and I tend to stay quiet. Some people at my old school didn’t like that I kept quite or I could play what they felt. Add on the muscle heads who didn’t understand that liking guys didn’t mean I liked them, things got insane. So I left and came here.” Luka ended Adrien’s song and sat on the bench to look at the blonde. “Even though music sort of got me into that mess, I get it being the only thing that feels like it makes sense.”

Adrien sat next to Luka. “And now you have glee. I was running from fans when I ran into our glee room. Mlle Bustier was ok with letting me hide there but when I saw how much fun everyone was having singing, I wanted to do the same. It’s been my escape.”

Luka bumped his elbow into Adrien’s side. “And people think models aren’t anything like us.”

“I’m really sorry you had to deal with that stuff, but I guess if you hadn’t, you wouldn’t have met Nino and he wouldn’t have taken us here and we wouldn’t get to meet.”

“Guess there’s a silver lining for everything. It’s a shame we’re going up against each other in Sectionals. Hanging out with you would be fun.”

“Well,” Adrien said, shrugging, “No one said we can’t text.”

“I thought one of your team members dated a guy from an opposing team?”

“Who said anything about dating? We’re just texting. I mean, Nino texts you and the others, right? What makes me so different?”

Luka let out a laugh. “Fair enough. Adrien Agreste, rebel. I think you’ve been around my mom too much; she’s starting to take an effect on you.”

“You say that as if being a rebel is a bad thing.”

______________________

Well Adrien wasn’t a rebel, but he did enjoy talking to Luka. he was easy to talk to and they had a lot in common. When employing the same rules Juleka and Luka had on their houseboat when it came to glee, it was easy to forget he was competing against him. Nino encouraged it when he found out.

“Besides, if you end up liking Lu and asking him out, then I can ask Kieran out. Maybe. I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”

It wasn’t hard to like Luka. he was good looking and funny and nice and his singing voice was amazing. But Adrien also knew dating during competition season was asking for another Chloe situation even if Luka would never do what that asshole ex did. So, Adrien made a deal with himself, he’d ask Luka out after Sectionals. One of them would win and then they wouldn’t compete anymore unless a space opened up. It would be fine.

I used to rule the world Seas would rise when I gave the word Now in the morning I sleep alone Sweep the streets I used to own

I used to roll the dice Feel the fear in my enemy's eyes Listen as the crowd would sing "Now the old king is dead! Long live the king!"

One minute I held the key Next the walls were closed on me And I discovered that my castles stand Upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand

And of course listening to Luka sing Viva la Vida made Marc lean over to him and tell him if he didn’t ask him out, he would.

But like the world was against him, both the most amazing and worst thing happened. They tied. Chole had said how rare that happened. Adrien could only think about how he felt cheated out of asking Luka out. Which was why he waited in the bathroom, waiting for Luka to come in.

“Hi.” Luka said when he came in. he looked a bit disheartened and Adrien really hoped he was reading the reason right.

“Hey. Congratulations by the way. Your Viva la Vida was amazing. Chloe thought so too and she doesn’t compliment the competition much.”

“Thanks. I know you said you were a countertenor but I never expected you to hold that note in So much better.”

“Thanks. Um, listen. I really hope I haven’t been reading the signs wrong, but…I like you, enough to tell myself that after Sectionals were over, no matter what happened, I’d ask you out. But I wasn’t expecting us to both win. But that hasn’t exactly discouraged me.”

“You haven’t been reading them wrong. It was my plan too but it would really be a bad idea to date. The stakes are even higher now. Though…God, Marin might kill me for suggesting this, but how about one date? One date to get it out of our system and to also give us something to look forward to after Regionals. There isn’t a chance we’ll tie again so it’ll be fine after then, but I don’t think either of us can wait that long.”

The door to the bathroom opened and Nino poked his head in. “Adrien, bro. the bus is here, time to go.”

“Yes.” He said to Luka as he headed to the door. “I’ll text you.”

As Nino dragged him to the bus before the group got angry, Adrien told him what he and Luka planned on doing.

“As your teammate, this is a horrible idea. As your best friend, this is the best idea ever and I demand details after.”

#lukadrien june 2021 #glee au

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vfdarkness · 4 years

Text

Lost Constellation - pilot

What follows is the pilot script for another audiodrama I’ve been working on. I wrote the initial draft of this about the same time as episode one of A Voice From Darkness. The elevator pitch is it’s Twin Peaks inside The Overlook Hotel. Besides giving you that, I’ll let you experience it blind. Enjoy!

TEASER

We hear a dial-up modem connection.

Partway in, as the static enters, underneath it, a swarm of wasps fades in.

THE SWARM isn't natural. It's how wasps sound in a nightmare.

The Swarm overtakes the dial-up static and tones. It pervades our ears. Then:

SILENCE.

We hear the last few seconds of the modem connection made.

It fades out.

As it does, for a half-second a wasp buzzes through our ears.

INTRO MUSIC

ACT 1

INT. URSA MINOR DINER - DAY

Customers make small talk as they eat.

A register dings open. Change is made. The register is shut.

ALLISON WENDT (20s) stands behind the counter.

ALLISON

Thanks for coming to The Ursa Minor. Hope you beat the blizzard.

The door opens and closes. A door chime lets us know.

Allison grabs a coffee pot off the burner.

Footsteps.

Coffee is poured into a mug.

TRAVIS BYERS (50s) sits at the counter.

TRAVIS

I need at least two refills of that coffee of yours every morning, Allison. Ha.

ALLISON

You're not sitting in your usual spot, Travis.

TRAVIS

No, guess I'm not.

ALLISON

It's empty. Been empty all morning. Any reason you didn't sit in your back corner booth? That's prime real estate in most diners.

TRAVIS

Thought I'd see if the eggs tasted any different at the counter. That's all.

ALLISON

You order the same thing everyday.

TRAVIS

I like what I like.

ALLISON

You read the newspaper everyday - each section in the same order front page, sports, entertainment, comics, local. Everyday.

TRAVIS

Not always. Sundays I read the comics after the front page. But what's your point?

ALLISON

You're a man of habit. And you changed something today. I think there's a reason. I'd like to know what that is.

TRAVIS

Something wrong with me sitting at the counter?

A beat.

ALLISON

Do you ever remember your dreams?

TRAVIS

I don't want to talk about dreams. I want to drink my coffee and read my paper.

A beat.

ALLISON

You just finished the sports section. Time for entertainment. Unless you're changing that up too.

Enjoy your coffee.

Allison walks away.

INT. CAR - DAY

We hear a car driving on a snowy interstate road. Wiper blades slowly knock the slush from the windshield.

Periodically other cars are heard in passing.

Driving is SPECIAL AGENT MICHAEL RIDLEY (30S).

The RECORD button of a microcassette tape recorder is pressed. There's an audible hiss from the tape.

RIDLEY

(into recorder)

Starting a fresh tape as I begin the Alaskan leg of the investigation. The date is September 26th, 1995. 3:13pm, Alaska Daylight Time.

A beat.

RIDLEY

It’s snowing. Coming down hard. I knew that was likely before I got on the plane up here. But if the post office doesn’t stop delivering: “Neither snow, nor rain…” how could an honest man of the Bureau not search for a missing girl under those same conditions? Still... If I don’t find Kimberly Dalton in the next several hours, I’ll need to make accommodations.

A beat.

RIDLEY

I'm nearing Constellation, Alaska. Strange town. I don't mean to be judgmental, but it undoubtedly is. The entire community exists within a single building The-

Ridley flips through a notepad on his passenger seat.

RIDLEY

Randsa Tower. A fourteen-story ex-naval base, according to the clerk at the gas station. I had to have him explain what he meant - the whole town existing in a single building. He meant exactly that. Doctors' offices, a diner, grocery store, taverns, church - you heard that right, taverns plural, church singular - all of it under one roof in the Randsa Tower - Constellation- both. You can be born, live your life, and die without ever stepping foot outside the building.

A beat.

RIDLEY

I guess that's no different than any other town in many respects. Wonder if they have a graveyard somewhere in the building. If I get in good with any of the locals I might ask.

A beat.

RIDLEY

Still a mystery is what Kimberly Dalton saw on the world wide web that brought her all the way here.

The tape hiss continues until Ridley hits the STOP button.

SEGUE MUSIC

INT. RANDSA TOWER QUARTERDECK - DAY

We hear Ridley's footsteps walk up to a receptionist desk.

Sitting at the desk is RADIOMAN FIRST CLASS (RM1) SEAN DWYER (30S). He plays with a three-dimensional puzzle that's much like a Rubik's Cube. But not.

As Ridley approaches, Dwyer twists his puzzle.

RIDLEY

Excuse me.

The cube twisting continues.

RIDLEY

(louder)

Excuse me - Could you stop playing with that puzzle-toy for a moment.

The twisting stops.

DWYER

(petulant)

Can I help you?

Ridley pulls out his wallet and flips it open.

RIDLEY

Special Agent Michael Ridley, FBI. I tried calling ahead but couldn't get through. I'm looking for a runaway teenage girl from St Louis. You the town... receptionist?

DWYER

RM1 Dwyer. Navy. I'm the Petty Officer of the Watch. You, Special Agent Ridley, are standing at the Quarterdeck of this command.

RIDLEY

Quarterdeck? For a building? You call the windows portholes too?

Dwyer doesn't laugh.

RIDLEY

This is still a naval base? Guy at the gas station told me it got de-commed in the 80s.

DWYER

(laughs)

You get all your military intel from gas station clerks? Some floors are navy-occupied.

RIDLEY

Which floors?

DWYER

That's classified.

RIDLEY

What if I go to one of those floors on accident?

DWYER

Well, don't do that.

RIDLEY

How will I know unless you tell me which floors I can and cannot traverse?

DWYER

I mean, if you just - if you - go to... Just try to avoid...

RIDLEY

Listen, Petty Officer, I'd like to find my runaway before we're snowed in here. Help me out, will you?

Dwyer sighs. We hear him pick up the handset of a phone and dials a rotary.

RIDLEY

Are you-

DWYER

I'm getting one of my guys down here to escort you up to the Sheriff's office.

Faintly, we hear a phone ring through the receiver.

DWYER

(to Ridley, tour guide mode)

Constellation is named after one of the six original frigates that-

DWYER

(into phone)

Bogues? Get down here.

Complaining-sounding muttering from the phone receiver.

DWYER

I don't care if you're not on watch. You were dumb enough to answer the phone. Get down here. I need you to escort someone.

More muttering at the other end.

RIDLEY

What floor's the sheriff on?

DWYER

Seventh.

RIDLEY

Tell your guy not to bother. I'll find it on my own, thanks.

Ridley's footsteps move away from the Quarterdeck.

Dwyer hangs up the phone.

The sound of a cube turning resumes.

ACT II

INT. URSA MINOR DINER - DAY

The Swarm fades in. It builds to a crescendo.

Then cuts to diner ambiance.

DEVIN GRANT (19) flips a page in his comic book.

The double doors separating the kitchen and diner swing open.

DEVIN

Hey Allison.

ALLISON

Devin. You're not in uniform. You off today?

DEVIN

No duty for me.

ALLISON

Lucky. Looked like a lot of your fellow sailors were busy battening down the hatches for this blizzard.

DEVIN

Yeah, I gotta miss all that. And mom sent me a care package.

ALLISON

Comics?

DEVIN

And Good & Plentys. You want some?

Devin shakes a box of candy.

ALLISON

Devin, I'm giving one last warning - if you ever offer me that awful lie that calls itself a candy again - you'll be banned from this establishment. Forever.

DEVIN

More for me.

A beat.

DEVIN

I ran into Martha Davidson earlier. She said she ate breakfast here this morning.

ALLISON

Yep. Her and her husband.

DEVIN

She said she heard you arguing with Travis Byers about something. What was it?

ALLISON

It's nothing. Don't worry about it.

DEVIN

Come on. You gotta tell me.

(whispers)

You went Jean Grey on him, didn't you? You read his mind and saw something weeeiiird.

ALLISON

I told you not to call me that.

DEVIN

(rationalizing)

Sorry, it's just-

ALLISON

It's nothing like that. That's not how it works.

DEVIN

(genuine)

Sorry.

A beat.

ALLISON

So did you want to order real food or keep eating that garbage candy of yours?

DEVIN

Yeah, can I order something to go? I promised someone I'd bring them something.

The Swarm abruptly comes back in. It builds. Then:

SILENCE.

INT. ELEVATOR - DAY

The elevator doors close. A button is pressed.

Ridley turns his microcassette recorder on. We hear the hiss of the tape.

RIDLEY

(into recorder)

5:48pm Alaska Daylight Time. The sheriff's office was empty. There was a note on the door that read: Back Sometime.

The elevator moves.

RIDLEY

While talking to RM1 Dwyer earlier, across the lobby, I saw a neon sign for The Ursa Minor Diner. In Constellation. Cute. My intention now is to grab a meal, question the staff to see if any have seen Kimberly Dalton, and then ask about getting a room. I was maybe too optimistic in thinking I'd find Miss Dalton and we'd leave before the blizzard hit.

The elevator unexpectedly stops.

We hear the lights flicker.

The Swarm fades in, but is just barely present in the background.

It fades out after a few moments.

RIDLEY

Not sure what just happened. I believe the elevator stopped.

The elevator moves again.

RIDLEY

Had me worried for a moment. Thought maybe it'd lost power.

The elevator doors open.

A beat.

RIDLEY

I'm not sure what floor I'm on, but it's not the lobby.

Ridley presses the Lobby button again.

Nothing happens.

He presses it several times.

RIDLEY

The elevator appears stuck.

He waits. All we hear is the hiss of his tape recorder.

Ridley impatiently sighs.

We hear his footsteps.

RIDLEY

I'll have to find the stairwell.

Footsteps.

SEGUE MUSIC

INT. URSA MINOR DINER - NIGHT

Diner ambiance.

The phone rings.

Footsteps.

The phone is picked up.

ALLISON

Ursa Minor, this is Allison.

DWYER

(through phone)

Will you bring me a piece of pie? Please. And thank-you.

ALLISON

Who is this?

DWYER

It's Dwyer. Over at the Quarterdeck. I'm waving at you.

ALLISON

Yeah, I see you. What kind?

DWYER

Cherry, please.

SEGUE MUSIC

INT. HALLWAY - NIGHT

We hear Ridley walking and the hiss of his microcassette tape recorder.

RIDLEY

(into recorder)

The floor I'm on - there's low wattage light bulbs in candelabras on either side of the hall. Doors on either side. All numbered.

Ridley knocks on a door.

RIDLEY

Anyone home?

Some footsteps, then another knock.

RIDLEY

Anyone here?

Quiet except for the tape hiss.

We hear his footsteps as he continues down the hall.

RIDLEY

I'm not sure how many live in Constellation. Whole floors could be abandoned. I've lost count of all the doors I've knocked on. I haven't seen a single EXIT sign that might direct me to a stairwell. I believe that's an OSHA - and National Fire Protection Association - requirement. When possible, I'll register a complaint to the building supervisor.

A beat.

We hear the sound of the puzzle Dwyer was playing with on the Quarterdeck.

Ridley is startled - we hear him exhale and jump back.

RIDLEY

Where did you come from?

The sound of the puzzle shifting continues for a moment. THE GIRL does not answer at first.

THE GIRL

I was here before you.

RIDLEY

I saw the petty officer on the quarterdeck playing with one of those toys. Puzzles? Whatever it is.

THE GIRL

A Primordial.

RIDLEY

What?

THE GIRL

A Primordial. Admiral Parsons designed it. To see which of us are in tune and which are not. Would you like to try it, Michael?

RIDLEY

How'd you know my name?

THE GIRL

I'm sorry. Should I call you Special Agent? Was it rude of me to call you by your first name? Have we met yet?

RIDLEY

No... No- we haven't.

THE GIRL

I saw her. You told me to keep an eye out for her. She's looking for The Door. I told her not to go through it. Not to look for it. If she does - she'll draw attention to this tower.

RIDLEY

Who? Who did you see?

THE GIRL

The girl you told me to keep an eye out for.

RIDLEY

Kimberly Dalton?

THE GIRL

She solved The Primordial in several seconds. Faster than anyone in my class can.

RIDLEY

Where is she?

THE GIRL

Who?

RIDLEY

Kimberly Dalton?

THE GIRL

I don't know who that is.

RIDLEY

You just said you saw her.

THE GIRL

Who?

RIDLEY

Are you playing games with me? You told me I told you to keep an eye out for Kimberly Dalton and then you said you saw her. We never had that conversation.

THE GIRL

But we did. Just now. Didn't we? You just told me to keep an eye out for Kimberly Dalton. And I will.

The sound of the puzzle shifting stops.

THE GIRL

(scared)

I need to go now.

RIDLEY

Wait - how do I get back to the lobby?

A door slams down the hall. Then another. And another.

RIDLEY

What is that? Who's there?

The sound of THE SWARM is faint in the distance.

RIDLEY

Where'd she go? Young girl?

He tries the nearest doorknob. And other. Both locked.

RIDLEY

She disappeared.

The Swarm raises and fades out.

INT. RANDSA TOWER QUARTERDECK - NIGHT

Quarterdeck ambiance.

DWYER

RM3 Grant get over here!

A beat.

DWYER

RM3 Grant! - Devin! - Get over here.

Footsteps.

DEVIN

RM1, what's up?

DWYER

You see an FBI Agent wandering around?

DEVIN

FBI? What're they doing here?

DWYER

That's classified. Just... I haven't seen him in a few hours. The blizzard's really coming down now. Kinda worried he and the girl he's looking for might be stuck here awhile.

DEVIN

Girl?

Dwyer realizes he shared something maybe he shouldn't have.

DWYER

That's classified.

SEGUE MUSIC.

ACT III

INT. HALLWAY - NIGHT

Footsteps. We hear the hiss of Ridley's tape recorder.

RIDLEY

(into recorder)

I've just turned the corner. Still not sure where the girl I was speaking to went. Still no clear exit. Dead end up ahead, but one of the doors is cracked open. A green light is emitting from the space.

He walks down the hall.

Knocks.

RIDLEY

Hello? Door's open. Anyone here?

In the distance we hear The Swarm.

The door creaks as Ridley opens it. He steps inside.

The Swarm fades back as he enters the apartment.

INT. URSA MINOR DINER - NIGHT

Diner ambiance.

ALLISON

Travis, you're back for dinner.

TRAVIS

I am.

ALLISON

Back at the counter again too.

TRAVIS

Let's not get into this again.

ALLISON

Sorry. And sorry for this morning.

TRAVIS

All water under the bridge.

ALLISON

This morning I was having the worst case of Deja Vu. You ever get that?

TRAVIS

Oh yeah. Doesn't everybody?

ALLISON

Maybe it wasn't Deja Vu exactly. It was a dream I had. Do you ever remember your dreams?

A beat.

TRAVIS

No. Not normally.

ALLISON

I do. Really well. You were in a dream of mine last night. You want to hear it?

Travis doesn't reply.

The diner ambiance fades out as Allison describes her dream.

Dream ambiance replaces it.

ALLISON

I was standing here. But you were over there. Sitting in your corner booth. Like you normally are. The diner - it wasn't the same. The windows that face out into the lobby. And the ones that look outside - they were all black. And it was dark in here too. But I could see you sitting in your booth. You weren't alone. There was a man with you. He leaned across the table and whispered in your ear. He placed an object into your palm, and you squeezed your hand shut. You became two people. One of you got up and walked out into the darkness that'd overtaken the lobby. Walked right past me. I tried to talk - to stop you. But I had no voice. I turned my attention back to the you in your booth: What did he say to you? What did he place in your palm? I wondered. In my dream. I was holding a coffee pot.

Without thinking I walked toward you - the you still in the booth - you and this man you were with. Maybe to give you some dream coffee. When I got closer, I saw it wasn't a man with you. It was a bunch of tiny ugly squirming things. Creatures. Insects. I don't know what they were but they were. Were-

TRAVIS

Swarming. They were swarming.

ALLISON

Swarming. That's the word. They were swarming together to form this- this perverse simulacrum of a man.

A beat.

ALLISON

What did it whisper, Travis? Where is the other you?

CUTAWAY SOUND

INT. ABANDONED APARTMENT - CONTINUOUS

RIDLEY

I don't mean to intrude - if anyone's here - but I'm a bit lost.

A beat.

RIDLEY

(into recorder)

There's no one here. I don't think this space has been occupied in some time. The greenlight - there's a computer terminal. It's an older system - I'd place it somewhere from the early 80s. It's flashing trivia questions across the screen - What's the capital of Idaho? Who was the eighth president? What year was The Great Gatsby published? There's a stack of reference books next to the keyboard. Encyclopedia volumes, an almanac. Atlas.

The door creaks.

RIDLEY

(away from the recorder)

Hello? Someone there?

The Swarm enters, but it cuts out. And is replaced by:

A man sobbing.

RIDLEY

Sir, I need to ask you to put the gun down.

TRAVIS

(sobbing)

I can't. I want to but I can't. It's making me...

RIDLEY

What's making you?

TRAVIS

I was in the diner - in the dark - and I was sent here. To give you a message. You need to listen.

CUTAWAY SOUND

INT. URSA MINOR DINER - CONTINUOUS

Diner ambiance.

TRAVIS

It's like you said, Allison. Deja Vu. I didn't remember this morning when I sat at the counter. Something about the back booth set me on edge though, but I didn't know what. I remember now. I remember it all. You want to know what The Swarm whispered to me?

Everything that Travis says next - his voice is doubled - as there's two versions of him delivering the message.

Under his words is a subtle but unsettling ambient sound.

TRAVIS

The star that guides you is black./ There is no sky.

There is no light./ You are shipbuilders, you are thieves./ Who only travel in the night./ In my home, there were unopened doors./ But you beat them down./ You left differently than you came./ Did you know?/ I'd never seen a blade of grass. A river snail. A desert tower./ Memories. Mirrors. And dreams./ I speak those tongues, perhaps more./ But I have no words to convey my hatred for your trespassing./ So I invent my own.

INT. ABANDONED APARTMENT - CONTINUOUS

Gunshot.

Body falls to the floor.

RIDLEY

Oh no. No.

(into recorder)

This man... I'm not sure how much the recorder captured, but this man came in with a gun to his head. He spoke - delivered a message. And he shot himself. The message he delivered...

A beat.

RIDLEY

I think this is going to be the Summer of '91 all over again.

Ridley presses STOP on his tape recorder.

INT. URSA MINOR DINER - CONTINUOUS

Diner ambiance.

TRAVIS

Asked and answered, Allison. Asked and answered. That is what was whispered to me in our dream. And now that dream is over.

We hear Travis disappear.

ALLISON

What does any of that mean? Travis?

(shouts)

Travis!?

A beat.

ALLISON

He's gone.

Customers continue to eat and make small talk.

A wasp buzzes in our ears for a split second.

OUTRO MUSIC

#audiodrama #audiofiction #workinprogress

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tessatechaitea · 4 years

Text

Cerebus #17 (1980)

Oh! This is the issue where we learn that the toughest motherfuckers in Estarcion are priests!

What is the statute of limitations for stealing from nuns because have I got a story for my memoir! That's as close to an anecdote as I have for a comic book cover with a priest on it. At least I think that's a Tarimite priest and I think that was an anecdote (albeit a mysterious one!). It's been awhile since I've read Cerebus and I've certainly never seen most of these covers. You know how you can tell most Christians have never read The Bible? Because they're still Christian. I swear to fucking Christ it's the most ridiculous motherfucking thing I've ever read and I've read the later Xanth novels! I don't detect any hint of animosity or marital regret in Deni's "A Note from the Publisher." That just means I didn't find anything worth discussing since I'm inherently a 7th grade gossip. Dave Sim's Swords of Cerebus essay discusses sitcom television and how important it is to keeping everybody's minds diluted to the point of inefficacy. His major point is that it's easy to watch a four hour block of sitcoms without your brain coming up with one thought of its own. Obviously that's the lure of television. But what's not so obvious to most people is that it's not the show or the writing or the sitcom that's keeping you from having your own thoughts about them (although, granted, some aren't worth any thoughts at all). It's the block of time spent sitting and watching them one after the other. If a show offers an intelligent story line commenting on the troubles of our daily lives, the viewer has not time to process what they have just seen. They simply move on to the next show dumped into their viewing trough while whatever they just watched is dumped out the back of the brain to make room for the next character slipping on a banana peel causing Mr. Roper to smile mischievously at the camera because obviously that's what a gay person would do. This way of watching television mindlessly was probably more pertinent to the last century; now we are in full control of everything we watch and have ample time to pause a show or movie and discuss important and relevant bits rather then letting them simply disappear in the flicker of afterimages. Although, we sort of live in a binge culture now and watch entire shows in one sitting so we can move on to the next one. I miss the amount of discussion to be had during the week while waiting for the next episode of Wiseguy or Twin Peaks or Three's Company. Okay, maybe not that last one. What was there to discuss about that show other than why the fuck a landlord had any say in the roommate two women choose to share their apartment with?! If you read Dave Sim's essay, right now you'd be wondering, "How the fuck did that essay cause you to write those thoughts?!" Look, a digression isn't a digression because it's pertinent to the current narrative! Lay off me!

Oh, I guess this one isn't the one with the bad-ass priest (is that even one? Who can tell anymore? My brain is Swiss porridge); it's the one with the terrible German accents.

Cerebus left Palnu with a horse and eight bags of gold. When this issue begins, it's three weeks later and he's down to just the eight bags of gold. The horse had a minor accident which left Cerebus dragging bags of gold across a landscape turned muddy from torrential rains. To get out of the rain so that this issue doesn't devolve into multiple "Gee, what stinks?!" jokes, Cerebus purchases a hovel from some peasants for four pieces of gold. That's where he's relaxing when the big dumb German guys come knocking on his door. Cerebus learns that the Germans (or T'gitans or something. I feel like they're not really ever mentioned again. Not like the Hsifans or the Pavrovians) are about to invade Palnu which piques Cerebus' interest because Lord Julius was a huge pain in the ass and it would probably be funny to see his fall from power. Or maybe Cerebus just has ADHD. The guy on the cover I thought was a priest is some guy named Commander Krull. He's grim and large and dour and he's the kind of guy I thought of as a grown man when I was a kid. I will soon be 49 and I learned years ago that I'll never think of myself as the way I used to picture grown men. That's not a bad thing! I'm just commenting on the delusions that grow within the minds of children. When I was a child, I'm sure I subconsciously categorized every grown man in my life as "Man" or "adult male." I believe there was always a bit of fear that came along with the adults whom I though of as Men. It's probably why I loved old men so much because they were somehow broken through the other side of "Man" and were back to being child-like. If you're confused by my definitions of what I thought a Man was, I'd say it would have been people like Mr. Cunningham or James Evan Sr. or Pa Ingalls or Grizzly Adams or Sgt. Carter from Gomer Pyle or Mr. Banks from Mary Poppins. Men who didn't register as "Men" were Bert from Mary Poppins (hell, just about any character Dick Van Dyke played. He was too playful to be a Man), Jack Tripper, Gene Wilder as anybody, Roddy McDowall as anybody, Lenny & Squiggy. Maybe I was just intimidated by men with broad shoulders? It's sort of sad that one of the main qualities that made a male figure in my life "manly" was if they intimidated me. And yes, for those of you who actually think about shit I just wrote that you just read, Mr. C scared the bejesus out of me.

This is the face of a man who grew up thinking, "I have to be masculine or I am nothing!"

Just to be clear: I don't give a fucking toss about masculinity. All that nonsense about what makes a man a real man is simply philosophical wanking of the most boring kind. But that doesn't mean you aren't inordinately influenced by that shit while growing up, especially when your father left at two and all of your adult male role models were on television. I may have been intimidated by Mr. C and James Evans Sr and Pa Ingalls but thank fucking Christ for them because I knew at least three adult males cared about me for a small amount of time each week! Cerebus realizes Krull, disguised as a priest, has snuck out of the town for reinforcements. Cerebus' big plan is to not let that happen! My instincts are to call him a genius even though the plan seems pretty obvious. That's probably because Cerebus is a fictional character and I can lavish praise on him without feeling jealous and petty and upset that nobody is calling me a genius. I mean, why aren't they? Have I not criticized enough comic books to be regarded as a genius? Am I misunderstanding the definition of the word?!

Cerebus uses the priest disguise against Krull. Genius!

Like when he defeated the leader of the Eye of the Pyramid in Palnu, Cerebus uses trickery instead of force to defeat Krull. I mean, both are knocked out by a rock to the head which I suppose is force but Cerebus uses tricks to get the opportunity to smash rocks into their heads. Having defeated Krull, Cerebus and the T'gitans conquer Fluroc, putting pressure on Lord Julius to raise an army quickly (since his current army is on the Onliu border which is, I suppose, super far away and stuff). I guess next issue Lord Julius and Cerebus go to war! I can't believe I don't remember this story! I mean, I remember the Krull encounter but I'd forgotten it had anything to do with Cerebus waging war against Palnu. Another excerpt of Michael Loubert's "The Aardvarkian Age" appears this issue. It's as dry as reading an Associated Press rendition of a historical event. I'm not sure why I thought these things would be entertaining when I got to them. Cerebus is funny; why isn't the history of the world of Estarcion?! Aardvark Comment isn't interesting yet. It's still people praising this little rinky-dink comic book operation for surviving over a year. I can't wait until Dave starts pissing off fans and then arguing with them! Cerebus #17 Rating: B. This story seemed incomplete. Probably because it's just the first part! But also it seemed anti-climactic or a hodge-podge of semi-related scenes. It was like a sketch show! It had some pretty solid jokes but overall I just kind of felt like I'd have been better off spending the time eating a box of Oreos.

#Cerebus #Dave Sim

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jackiesarch · 5 years

Note

Oc asks: 65-72 for Lucy and Harper

Maaaagggs! Thank you for this! ❤️

65. What is your OC’s favorite drink?

Lucy’s a big sweet tea drinker – like, she’d drink her weight in it if she could. It’s one of the biggest things she misses about Georgia.

Harper isn’t really that picky and doesn’t really have a favourite drink. She’s lame enough to enjoy a really cold glass of water, but she’ll also not say no to a Starbucks Mango Dragonfruit Lemonade Refresher.

66. What is your OC’s favorite food?

Lucy loves pasta of all kinds. She’s partial to tortellini (especially cheese and bacon tortellini), but loves it all. Her favorite comfort food? Mac and cheese (but not the watery variety…).

Harper is big into chicken nuggets. Bad day? Have some chicken nuggets. Long night? Nothing chicken nuggets can’t fix. Cult destroying the lives of your friends and coworkers? Toss some chicken nuggets at that problem. That’s the Harper Ryan way.

67. What is your OC’s favorite sweet?

Lucy is HERE for hard candy of any variety. She’s your stereotypical old lady, and prefers sour candies. She doesn’t carry a purse, but catch her with her pockets full of random hard candies.

Harper likes skittles. Her favorite kind is the blue package (the tropical flavored ones).

Did you know they make spicy skittles? Harper did.

68. What is your OC’s favorite season?

They’re both big lovers of autumn. Lucy hates the heat and loves the reprieve that the fall offers. Harper just really likes cozy, over-sized sweaters and smoky bonfires.

69. What is your OC’s favorite kind of weather?

Lucy loves rainy days because they give her an excuse to not do anything that she needs to be doing. Thunderstorm? Can’t very well go outside without getting soaked through. She loves the sound of rain pelting the windows.

Harper isn’t quite as fond of rainy days, but she does prefer partially cloudy, cool days. So much is easier without the sun beating down on your neck, and a nice breeze drifting through the air makes everything better.

70. What is your OC’s favorite book?

Lucy’s favorite book is Mother Night by Kurt Vonnegut. Vonnegut is her favorite author and she loves the black satire all of his books provide, but Mother Night is her favorite. She read it during a particularly hard time in her life, and something about it just really stuck with her.

Her favorite line: “There is nothing left of him but curiosity and a pair of eyes.”

Harper probably doesn’t read as much as she should, but her favorite book is Fight Club by Chuck Palahniuk. That kind of flowery prose is the kind of stuff that gets the hair on her arms standing up.

Her favorite line: “I don’t want to die without any scars.”

71. What is your OC’s favorite movie and/or TV show?

Lucy’s favorite show is probably Twin Peaks. It’s weird and eerie and intriguing and she loves the aesthetic of it. It’s definitely the first thing she turns to when she’s had an awful day and just needs to watch something to wind down.

Harper loves comedies. Brooklyn Nine-Nine, The Office, Parks and Recreation. Anything that can put a smile on her face is something she wants to watch. There’s too much negative in the world to watch miserable shit every day.

72. What is your OC’s favorite kind music (and song if there is one)?

Lucy will listen to just about anything. Literally – her phone has everything from Queen to Taylor Swift to Lil Nas X. She just loves anything that sounds good. She doesn’t have a favorite song, but one of the ones she has the most good memories tied to is Night Moves by Bob Seger and the Silver Bullet Band.

Harper is heavy into any kind of pop or rap. She loves Beyonce, MIA, Halsey, Kendrick Lamar – anything like that is right up her alley. Her favorite song is Borders by MIA for the sole reason that it makes her feel badass whenever she listens to it.

#my ocs #harper ryan #lucy evans #t: oc meme

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loquaciousquark · 5 years

Text

15th August. Saw one whole cloud this morning--watched as it crept right next to the sun, spied me looking up in hope, and dissipated immediately

For as many lackeys as Meredith keeps at her beck and call, I am surely the most ill-suited to the position. Mostly because she despises the sight of me--which most, I feel, would consider a sign of a poor working relationship--and yet here I am, searching out apostates & running messages back and forth like a pet urchin, because my freedom depends entirely upon her sufferance and I am nothing if not craven when it comes to my freedom.

Poor Fenris. Well, he knew my baggage when he signed on. Maker, between the two of us we’re practically a full suite.

I do appreciate his willingness to stand at my shoulder and glower, though. I told him this afternoon that regardless of his history with Anders, should I ever be taken up by the templars, I expected him to put all differences aside to break me out of the Gallows immediately. He laughed, but his eyes were hard when he said he would. Good.

19th August. So steamy after yesterday’s storm Isabela could hardly get all the innuendo out at once

Do you know, journal, when I was a child I used to go out into the field and pretend to be Queen Rowan at the Battle of River Dane, and Carver would be Maric and Bethany would either be Loghain or Queen Rowan’s previously unknown twin sister, Queen Alabaster, who was the same as Queen Rowan only more beautiful, more beloved, and who more often than not kicked both Maric and Rowan to the streets after the battle and ruled Ferelden alone.

I bring this up because this afternoon (which was remarkable in several distinct ways) I managed to not only insult but also physically injure the sovereign king of Ferelden, His Majesty Alistair Theirin, in the presence of his uncle the Bann of Rainesfere Teagan Guerrin.

To be honest, I thought the letter was a joke. Maker knows I get enough of them now--it’s rarer than diamonds to receive a genuine request for aid lately between all the blind offers for my hand and the blinder requests for the sum total of my fortune to be delivered to the docks at midnight in an oiled basket draped with bunting. I thought Bodahn had let it slip through accidentally--and then I walked through the Keep’s doors and saw Meredith arguing with a man in full plate right there in the entry hall, and so preoccupied was I with rolling my eyes straight out of my head that I didn’t realize I recognized his face from all the printed coins Lirene still takes for trade.

Funny. I always thought it would feel different, standing before someone who rules your country--the place you loved, I mean, the place that was home.

He was taller than me, but not by much, with lines around his eyes, and a wider face than the coins suggest. He laughed more often than I should have thought. He knew my name, too, and all evening I have been imagining him and his queen sitting in a blue salon, opening letters with news of my various exploits, marveling at this wonderful refugee who survived the Blight against all odds and yet managed to still steadfastly ruin Ferelden’s reputation all the way across an entire sea.

Anyway. Aveline was infinitely proper-er than I was, of course, which oddly enough I think embarrassed him more than my inability to muster even the minimally appropriate deference due my sovereign lord. Then--just to make sure the Maker was mocking me directly--on the way out I was so busy looking behind me to see if Meredith was watching that I missed Alistair pausing on one of the Keep steps ahead of me, plowed directly into his posterior, knocked both of us off our balance, and clapped our temples so hard together I saw stars.

I will say the last time I saw Aveline so disgusted with me I was drunkenly weeping into her shoulder about the mayfly lifespan of my dog (comparatively speaking). But again, Alistair hardly minded at all, and once we got out of the Keep we managed the four of us to have a wholly reasonable conversation about imported dairy products and the effects of the latest storms on Ferelden’s grain production, which I honestly cared a great deal more about than Meredith anyway. He says the edges of the Wilds are still enough a wasteland they’ve not counted on its stores at all. He didn’t remember any recent news of Lothering itself, but he said a few places have begun to recover and that Lothering might have been one of them, a bit of growing green against all odds. I’d like to see that Chantry rebuilt someday, with the sun turning colors through its glass windows every morning.

My favorite moment came a little later, though, as Teagan was talking about the trouble he’s been having with one of Redcliffe’s apple groves. I looked over his shoulder and saw Fenris on his way back from the Chantry--visiting Sebastian, I think, since it’s the third of the week--so I waved him over and introduced him. He can be so coolly civil when he wants to be, and despite the leer I have yet to successfully suppress as I introduced “my friend,” he gave that crisp Tevinter half-bow to Alistair and nodded to Teagan and slipped right into the conversation about the apples, easy as anything.

Fucking proud of him. Not even enough words for the joy--I’m bursting every time I think of it. Danarius can twist his bloody mincy little words all he likes. No Tevinter slave ever stood so straight and free before a king.

He belonged there. He belonged there, with us. King Alistair honored him and deferred to him more than once as we spoke, and Bann Teagan admired his sword, and Aveline told the story of our trip to Sundermount and the varterral we fought there, and how Fenris tore two of the legs from the thing before Varric & I finished it off. (She knew, I think, how I felt; I kept stumbling over my sentences, preoccupied as I was marveling at Fenris’s wonderful face so near King Alistair’s stubbly one, so to have her slip in as often as she did and cover for my idiocy was dreadfully kind.)

Alistair asked us, in the end, if we’d come back. Serve our country once more, serve the throne. Aveline...didn’t know. And I said

I said

Yes was in my mouth. I could already feel it, could already smell Lothering’s spring fields and the green ivy that grows on the boulders next to the southern lakes and the thick, crisp cut to the air right before it storms, and...

And then I glanced over his shoulder at the way the afternoon sunlight poured down the silks draped through the Chantry square, and I saw the peak of Fenris’s roof over the wall where I first told him I loved him, and I thought of Pelarie’s and Jule’s wedding next week, and the sticky buns Orana’s promised to make for Wicked Grace after and how Sebastian plans to come help her with the glazing, and I--

Well! I couldn’t.

I looked at Fenris, and his eyes softened, just a little, and I said I would be happy to come visit, and I offered my aid should it ever be needed, but that I thought...I thought perhaps my place was here, at least for now.

Alistair’s face changed enough I think he understood my meaning, and he nodded and said to send word should we ever have need of him. He said he knew our road was difficult, but he thought Kirkwall was in the best hands she might be able to get, even if she didn’t know it yet. Generous sentiment, I thought, considering how near I’d been to abandoning her only a scant moment prior, but I appreciated it all the same.

Then Isabela sauntered by on her way to the Blooming Rose and Alistair turned beet-red and all of us learned a great deal more about a brothel in Denerim than I think any of us expected when we woke this morning.

24th August. Rained all morning, heavier storms this afternoon. Da would have called this a gullywasher

I could die a happy doglord if I never had to run another errand for that woman. If I didn’t know how terrified I was of her assistant (and the implications of that assistant), and I didn’t know she knew, and I didn’t know I didn’t know she knew, well--I’d never help her again at all, so there.

That said, my hands are still cold from the last time we went through. Even Aveline winced at Elsa’s “help,” and I can’t remember the last time she was flappable. Regardless, two blood mages are no more and one mage is safely returned to the Circle, and the blood of at least two more innocent lives has poured through my fingers. Poor Evelina. Poor blessed Nyssa. I led her to her death for nothing more than the misfortune of loving the wrong man and trusting the wrong woman to protect her.

Merrill said Nyssa always kept to herself in the alienage. She’s going to take the cloth and ivory from the market stand to Nyssa’s neighbor, an older woman to whom she used to carry stew on cool evenings. She’s to see to the lease and the apartment as well, though she doesn’t know if the landlord will speak to her. For once, it’s because Merrill’s a stranger and no relative, not because of the blood magic or the tendency to traipse in other people’s gardens without permission. I even saw an alienage elf give her a nod of recognition on our way out after Nyssa died, which is practically an embrace for her by now. She’s still pale and too concerned with that contraption of a mirror, but perhaps this is a step in the right direction.

Speaking of directions, there’s word on the winds that Castillon’s floating back into town to claim Isabela’s debt. She’s working on some foolish plan involving the Blooming Rose and a secret trail, and I adore every ridiculous part of it. That woman has more machinations than Varric’s clockwork crossbow.

Damn. I keep thinking about Nyssa’s face when I told her I’d help.

29th August. Stifling. Politically and weatherly, I should say, with the humidity like a wall pressing us down into the cobbles

Sold my soul to get Isabela her ship. Or--if not the whole--at least another little bit of it, as Fenris’s disapproving looks keep telling me every time she starts waxing on about her lovely new beauty. I could have bought her a ship. I could have even paid to have Castillo killed--Maker’s blood, I could have gone and done it myself the moment Isabela was away, but I didn’t, and now he’s free to continue slaving (for now, anyway), and she’s free to take herself off into the horizon the moment the winds call her and tear me apart all over again.

Do you know what the worst part is, journal?

I saw her eyes the moment she stepped on that ship for the first time, knowing her to be hers, every plank and nail and inch of rope, and I’d do it all again for her without a second’s thought.

2nd Kingsway. One orange leaf on the trees in the square before the Chantry today. Don’t make me empty promises, autumn

Jule’s and Pelarie’s wedding today! Jule wore a lovely brown and green dress embroidered in gold thread, and Pelarie wore the same green trimmed in white. I caught a glimpse of her face, right when they met each other at the back of the Chantry to walk towards Mother Natta together, and just for a moment all I could think of was the first time I ever met Pelarie, a tiny thing too young for her taffeta sitting in my parlor, her terrible mother eating Orana’s tea-cakes and smiling at me like she owned me already.

Her mother wasn’t smiling today, but she was there, and Jule’s mother beamed bright enough for both of them anyway. I’d wager she even outshone the little flame they lit in the shared cup afterwards, though now that I think of it, that might have been due to the diamond the size of my fist dangling from her necklace.

Fenris went with me. I’ll refrain from describing my catlike satisfaction at holding his hand (in public even, Bride preserve me), even if it was mostly just between us while we sat in the pews. I never really dreamed of marriage as a girl, preoccupied as I was with keeping the family safe and the mule happy and plowing, but I’d marry him if he wanted. Flames, I’d marry him just to spite Lord Stinton Fucking Forrester, who was also there (poor judgement, Lady Ashbridge!), and whose face pinched so badly when he saw us his mouth practically sucked out the back of his head. A less lofty reason, perhaps, but since Fenris refuses to permit me to shout my affection for him from the Hightown rooftops, I find I must be satisfied with taking his hand in public and watching people I dislike wither on the inside for it.

It helps significantly that he looks like some stern foreign lord in that Tevinter dress tunic and the black trousers that fit him all the way down. Most handsome man in the room, and he didn’t even know it.

Which isn’t to say he didn’t look infinitely better out of them later, though. Ha!

9th Kingsway. There was one whole single breeze today, I swear it

Toby has, I think, become overly familiar with the neighbor’s grey hunting bitch. I told him he was under no circumstances to make any rash decisions, and he licked my nose and ate a metal pie tin in answer, so I may or may not have broken through. We’ll see if any puppies emerge with iron stomachs and a penchant for stealing fowl, I suppose, though I can’t deny they’d be heart-stealingly adorable.

It’s been quiet all week. It makes me uneasy.

14th Kingsway

Marethari’s dead, and Merrill’s shattered the mirror. Fenris was cruel to her after. So was Anders. I lost my temper at both of them and upset Merrill even more in the doing.

Flames and pyre!

I wanted that thing gone, but not like this.

17th Kingsway. Cool

Went back to speak to the Dalish today. I went by myself, which probably wasn’t wise, but Merrill’s lost like a kit in the snow and I didn’t want anyone else’s judgement or catty remarks or -- or over-kindness to get in the way.

Master Ilen says Marethari told no one what she was going to do. Her--First isn’t the right word, I know, because it was different elvhen and Merrill said she hadn’t been replaced yet anyway--some student of hers that she was close to suspected she’d done something foolish. He said the girl followed us up the mountain and came down again when we went into the cave with the idol.

He supposes he’s the elder now, until the clan comes to a choice on who will lead them next. He said they won’t kill Merrill if they see her--bitter thanks to me--but she’s not welcome alone any longer.

I asked if I could take Merrill something from the clan to remember Marethari by. I told him she loved her still and grieves her death. He said they’d left Marethari’s body in the cave where she’d sold herself to save something not worth the selling, and that I was welcome to anything left that hadn’t been taken by birds or the earth.

I was so angry! So angry, and I told him so, and I told him Merrill loved her clan more than her own life and everything she did was for their sake, and if they were still too stubborn to see it after all this time they might as well be heartless.

He looked at me, and he said that it would be better to die than to have his heart killed in the saving.

I wanted to pretend I didn’t know what he meant. I wanted to keep my righteous anger for Merrill’s sake, and for all the lost sods in Kirkwall who’ve had their families turn away from them for--for Maker knows why, but...

All I could see was my mother’s face, and the peace in her eyes when she told me not to save her.

I went up the mountain to the cave and took up Marethari’s staff, and then I walked to Merrill’s home in the alienage and knocked at her door. She wouldn’t let me in, so I tucked the staff in against the doorjamb and went to visit Gamlen. Charade was there too, so we played cards and drank until the sun went down and Gamlen started snoring, and then Charade took me home with her on account of me not being fit to walk Lowtown alone in my state.

So says she. A bandit pissed himself at the sight of my face two weeks ago. I didn’t even have to say anything.

She’s laid me out a pallet on her floor and she’s very studiously ignoring my burning down of all her candles, but I think I’m finished with this. As much as I’ll ever be, anyway, until Merrill lets me back in through the cracks.

I remembered to send a note to Orana this time. At least I managed that.

25th Kingsway. Warm again, but in a desperate sort of way, as if the season knows it’s on its way out, finally, Maker

Fenris apologized to Merrill today. He didn’t know I heard him; we were getting ready to go after a band of blood mages that’s been taking young women from Lowtown, and he was down the stairs at the Hanged Man as I was coming out of Varric’s suite. He didn’t quite apologize for the sentiment, but he did for the tone, and the timing, and he said he knew he’d hurt her in the saying and regretted it.

Merrill thanked him, because she’s the most generous person I’ve ever met, and he hemmed and hned and extricated himself from the conversation as quickly (and gracelessly--I knew there had to be something he wasn’t superb at) as he could. By the time I came down the stairs he was standing across the bar at one of the sooty windows, but Merrill was still there, and she saw me, and she smiled as she lifted Marethari’s staff. She didn’t say anything, but her eyes were shining.

28th Kingsway. Rained all day in Kirkwall, the puddled streets just about empty of life

The Followers of She have been ousted at last, and all the girls living that they still had captive have been returned to their homes. There was one girl, a little older than the rest (sixteen? seventeen?) who’s a mage & the oldest of five (all girls, Maker preserve that family). She seemed familiar, somehow, but I couldn’t place her. Her name was Gloria. It’s also worth noting that every single woman in her family has the most blazing golden hair, and even the rain couldn’t keep their spirits dampened as she bounded through the door to her home in Lowtown. I must have seen her around Gamlen’s place, I suppose. Maker, it’s such a precious thing when someone can be saved!

There was a demon at the end of it, a corrupted desire named Hanker, and she spoke to me before she died. She said she could see the heart of me and she could give me what I wanted, if I’d spare her, if I’d become a vessel for her power.

I told her I was too prone to breaking crockery as it was, thank you very much, and she’d have to look elsewhere to meet her quota. Then Fenris stabbed her right through the heart from behind, and she turned into embers and purple ash that reeked of rotten eggs.

Varric says he’s going to turn it into a new chapter of Hard in Hightown. I told him if I featured in it at all, I’d hire someone else to write my authoritative biography, and he only laughed and shook his head. I don’t trust him one inch.

2nd Harvestmere. Guess what lucky sod got to get a cape and scarf out of the coat closet this morning

There are things I’ve been discovering lately that I never knew I didn’t know. For instance, I’ve learned that having Fenris’s fingers resting on the side of my neck as we sleep is more important to me than breathing. I’ve learned there’s a very specific way to bother his ears that’ll have him bothering me in an equally excellent way in less than a handful of minutes. I’ve learned that the slightly puffy-eyed glare he gives with one eye when I wake him too early in the morning is more precious to me than a fistful of rubies, even the ones the size of quail eggs Lord Ashbridge wears every Firstday.

I have more scars than he does. The Arishok helped with that, certainly, and it does bother me a bit there’s a stripe along my ribs where I can’t feel his fingers, but the few he does have are marks of worse stories than mine, so I think we still come out more evens than odds.

And yet...

There’s something I’ve noticed, mostly when he’s tired but sometimes when he’s just had a difficult day, or a long one, and I don’t know quite how to say it. It’s almost as if he--craves touch. To be touched, I mean, or to just--just cuddle, if that weren’t wholly the wrong word for it. To--to--sit close and--

Andraste! If even I don’t know what I mean, how can I expect anybody else to understand?

After dinner, in two glasses of whiskey, loose, articulate, devilishly attractive to all who see upon me. Look upon me

What I meant to say earlier is that last night, when we came home from the Coast, after we’d both had (tragically separate, but we were ruined with ichor) baths, and I’d gone to the library, Fenris came in and sat down beside me closer than he ever does usually, and over the course of the next twenty minutes (or thereabouts), via the deep secret signs of sideways glances and a half-opened gesture or two, and my asking, his head ended up directly in my lap.

He trusts me. How terrifying!

His eyes were closed and his hair was damp from the bath, so it was more grey than white, and he was warm and heavy and the lyrium sang as I brushed down his neck. He was wearing no armor, only a soft green shirt and linen trousers for sleeping, and his eyes were closed, and one hand was on his chest and his fingers were curled into the fabric, just a little, and gently, and every now and then as he breathed he’d thumb absently across the seam of his collar.

My heart might have broken every rib in the beating, it hurt so badly.

I have to stop for tonight. I’ve been so caught in the memory it’s taken me half an hour to write even these few lines, and Fenris has turned away from the candles and gone to sleep. His back has pressed up against me, though, and I can feel him breathing, slow & deep as the way the tide pulls at the docks in the evening.

Maker. This whiskey’s stronger than I thought. Lest I berate myself later for maudlinism, I will remind myself that today I kicked Toby in the ribs by accident, nearly smashed one of Fenris’s fingers in a door, and discovered I no longer may eat fish after sundown (indigestion).

There. Humility!

#fenris #hawke #fenris/hawke #dragon age #quark writes #hawke's journal tag #goodness it's been a cough #hahaa remember when i used to do this

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goodyeartheshippycat · 5 years

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Tagging Game

Rules: Answer 21 questions about yourself and tag 21 people whom you want to get to know better :)

Tagged by both @sparkly-things AND @slstarrycity <3

Nickname/Pet name: Don’t really have one. Whatever my partner has decided to refer to me as in a given span of time, I guess. Common fallbacks for that include “clumsy baby giraffe” and “monster”.

Zodiac: Aries/Snake, though I don’t subscribe to astrology of either kind.

Height: Just shy of 6’ tall (182 cm).

Last Movie: Into the Spider-Verse. Highly recommended!

Last Thing Googled: “Shai Utoh shrine treasure” >> clearly a sign I’ve been doing nothing while sick except playing Breath of the Wild. Because I was having a frustrating time reaching the final treasure chest in that shrine and wanted to know what it had in it so I wasn’t needlessly beating my head against my controller over a shitty boomerang or something. Spoiler alert, it had an ancient core in it so I continued to struggle with the challenge of figuring out how to properly launch Link into the air at the correct height to paraglide onto the ledge containing it. But I succeeded in the end! [insert triumphant emoji here]

Favorite Musician: Single musician rather than group? Probably one of the greats from the jazz era. Count Basie or Duke Ellington or Django Reinhardt or Artie Shaw, perhaps.

Song Stuck in Head: Most recently Gaston’s song, but with the lyrics changed to fit Prince Sidon from BOTW (I fell down a YouTube hole of crack, don’t judge me), some of which I couldn’t remember so I just started making up new ones as I hummed it. I’m most proud of “No one thinks like Sidon / No one winks like Sidon / No one lusts after Hylian twinks like Sidon”. (Okay, you can totally judge me and my complete lack of musical talent).

Other Blogs: Nope, I just shove everything onto this one like the heathen I am. Sorry to anyone who follows me for/knows me from a fandom that I don’t post enough about (looking at you lovelies from the DS9 community – sorry y’all, I still love seeing your content, though).

Do I Get Asks: Usually only if I do an Ask Meme. Which I should do again sometime because they’re fun.

Following: 196. Wow, how did that get so large? I should probably go through and thin that out a bit…

Dream Trip: Travelling across Asia. I’ve never been to that part of the world but would love to go some day when I have enough money. I want to see the cultural sights, the natural sights, and eat lots of delicious street food!

Amount of Sleep: I miss being young and not needing it, but these days I do best with 6-9 hours. And then another hour or two lazing around in bed, if possible XD

Lucky Number: I’m super skeptical and don’t believe in the concept of “luck” per se…. but I’ll go with 38 (the number of my favourite Pokemon, and therefore near and dear to my nostalgic heart).

What I am Wearing: A green and blue plaid cotton house dress from the late ‘60s or ‘70s, a rainbow striped sweater, and black fleece-lined tights (because it’s winter, so fashion must also be at least somewhat practical.

Dream Job: Botanic garden curator. Or mad scientist.

Fave Food: All of them? It’s difficult to pick because I love eating. It’s hard to beat freshly-baked chocolate chip cookies, though. For savoury food, maybe dumplings (though that encompasses so many different types it’s almost cheating… but I love them all!)

Play Any Instruments: Nope, never really had the talent for that.

Languages: English. Un peu (tres petit peu) de Français.

Fave Songs: Going by how frequently I’ve listened to them over the past little while:

Make Me Feel by Janelle Monae – Probably my song of 2018, and a fabulous video to boot.

Wild West by Lissie – First heard while watching the new season of Twin Peaks, but listened to incessantly while driving over the summer. Anyone who rode in my truck probably heard it at least once.

Thin Blue Flame by Josh Ritter – A rediscovered old favourite. So fucking powerful and it builds from such a quiet, unassuming start.

House by Patrick Wolf – Inspired by Liz’s inclusion of a Patrick Wolf song! I’ve been listening to his stuff for over 10 years now (wow, how time flies!) and love everything from his dark, emo-inspired phase to the happy, upbeat, ‘80s-influenced pop numbers. Putting this song in because the music video is just, so aesthetic.

Random Fact: I’m secretly a bit of a hoarder but I’m also fairly organized—as well as good at using available space and tidying up—so it doesn’t really look like I am.

Describe yourself as aesthetic things: Vintage dresses soaking in a handwash basin, the commingling scents of a glass of scotch and a cup of tea sitting on the side table together, the way a book’s deckled edges feel against your fingers, creamy lace paired with worn leather, the flickering of a neon sign with blackened burn out marks in the corners, that indescribable feeling of standing alone in the forest after the rain, an overflowing box of costume jewellery, the dull sheen of light reflecting off snake scales ready to shed, dirt clinging to the smooth metal spokes of a bicycle wheel.

I thought that last question would be harder, honestly, but once I had one or two, the rest just started to flow. Not sure how accurate they are as descriptors, but read into them what you will. I suppose…

Tagging: As per usual, do it if you’d like to, because I enjoy reading them, but I’m not gonna bother tagging anyone specifically.

#meme #about goodyear #my life tbh #i went a bit overboard here #whoops #goodyear rambles #random fact about me #thanks for tagging me #you're both so sweet #i love reading these #it's so much fun to learn about online friends

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raflovestuffs · 6 years

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That is who you are: Chapter 10

First l Previous l Next

Hi guys!!

Woah! I’m so glad to come back with a new chapter! The end is near! Only two more chapters to go! They’ll be post very soon cause as I’m going to Annecy, I’m translating the chapters whith @megtoons to give my strory translated to Dean DeBlois!

So that’s good for you guys, cause you’ll finally how I decided to ended this story so many years ago (hopefully before the trailers comes xD)...

I want to send a big thank you to @wolfie-dragon-rider and @chiefhiccstrid who corrected it! Thank you a lot guys!

Also, here the illustration of this chapter made by my dear illustrator <3

Now, I hope this chapter will please you!

“And if all goes well, Hiccup will be saved,” I said, confident.

I’d told them my plan; it was up to them now to decide to follow me or not.

“Your plan sounds good, Astrid, but I have a question: how do you plan on getting the plans for the Night Fury tail?” Gobber asked.

“I’ll manage,” I said icily.

I knew it would take some time, but I would get there, I would find it, for Hiccup. The twins—as per usual—looked visibly confused about the plan, especially Tuffnut.

“What is it?” I asked him.

“So there’s one thing I don’t get about your plan!” he said. “The thing about the tailfin, so that Toothless can fly on his own and go find Hiccup and all that, okay… but why send Toothless, when he’s the only dragon that can’t fly on his own? That sounds… kinda dumb.”

I stepped toward him, glaring at him all the while, and didn’t speak until I drew level with him.

“Toothless is the only one capable of bringing him back,” I said dryly.

Tuffnut threw his hands in the air, admitting defeat.

“Okay, great—who’s with me?”

Everyone raised their fists proudly, signalling their agreement.

“That’s more like it.”

...

It had been a month now since Hiccup was captured by Drago, a month since I’d heard any word from him, a month that we’d been apart, a month of missing him—a month I’d been searching for the plans for the automatic tailfin for his dragon. And still, nothing. I couldn’t believe how much time had passed without him.

I found myself in the forge, leaning my head on Hiccup’s desk. I had looked everywhere—in absolutely every nook and cranny I could find, and I’d still come up empty-handed. So I stayed there, mulling over all of this, alone in Hiccup’s old refuge—right up until I heard a knock on the door. I lifted my head—it was Gobber.

“Astrid,” he said, shaking his head.

“Hmm?”

“It’s late…you should go get some rest, you’ve spent all day searching again today. Come on.”

He offered me his hand, and I took it. How could I explain that this place was the only link with Hiccup I still had? This was the only place that brought me any comfort. At home, I had nightmares, terrible nightmares. Every night since Hiccup’s capture I awoke in a cold sweat, panicked, and the nightmares would start right up again—but how could I say that to Gobber? I couldn’t. He was worried enough about me as it was.

He walked me home, and I gave him a grateful hug goodbye.

“Thanks, Gobber,” I whispered.

I pushed open the heavy door to our hut and stepped inside, without making a sound. Valka came back in her old house since I was alone. She was sleeping in our room—formerly Stoick’s—while I had decided to spend my nights in Hiccup’s old bedroom, where I could feel his unique presence. Erik was lodging in Valka’s small hut. I headed upstairs, being careful not to wake her, and I threw myself across the bed. And then, I cried. Days’ worth of accumulated pressure came out of me like this every night now, followed by my nightmares. I wasn’t used to crying, but Hiccup’s absence had changed everything.

“No!” I screamed.

I was panting—all lost. Overwhelmed, I swept my gaze around the room—Hiccup’s room. I ended up calming myself and gently replaced my head on the pillow. I drew the blanket close to me in order to smell it—Hiccup’s scent still emanated from the fabric. I curled up, tightening the thick blankets against me, and went back to sleep.

When I opened my eyes, the sun was all there, so the morning was well underway… I scolded myself for waking up so late. I jumped out of bed and dressed quickly, then I left the hut without having breakfast. Toothless and Stormfly were waiting for me outside to do their morning flight. So I climbed Toothless’ back and placed my foot on the pedal to handle his tail fin. Hiccup had shown it to me so many times that now I knew exactly how to make it work. We took off—followed by Stormfly—and we went for a flight.

Flying without Hiccup, it wasn’t the same… Before, whenever we went for a flight, we always had new adventures, we always tried things we’d never tried before—we both liked that.But he wasn’t there and days were monotonous. It was like I was reliving the same day all over again and I couldn’t break free from this vicious circle. Without Hiccup, my life had no sense, my world revolved around him and him only.

We’d been flying for almost a quarter of an hour—it was time to get back, especially since it was getting cloudy. I made Toothless lean to the left to head towards Berk, and we got back to the village. We landed and I barely had the time to put a foot on the ground before the night fury was already on his way to Valka’s hut—where Erik was now—and Lifa too. I followed him in a hurry to greet Erik and his dragon—closely followed by Stormfly. But when we reached the hut, Lifa was nowhere to be found. Erik was standing before the doorstep, a smile in the corner of his lips.

“What is going on? Where’s Lifa?” I asked.

“She left with her eggs in the isle’s heights, it’s time…”

“What do you mean? She’s about to have her babies? Right now?” I said, more and more surprised.

“Night furies are very special, you know,” Erik said. “Unlike other dragons, their eggs don’t explode. They lay the eggs right after mating, and the babies lay dormant until there’s a powerful enough storm… like today. They must be struck by lightning to hatch.”

“Really? Lightning?! I guess that...makes sense… Well, I think I’ll have to ride Toothless up there then! See you later!”

Glad these eggs don’t explode… it’s one less problem to solve! So I took off with Toothless—looking for Lifa—beneath the storm. With the rain coming down in torrents like this, I could barely see anything. Even Stormfly had chosen to not come.

Toothless finally used his plasma wave to locate Lifa’s presence, and we set off at full speed towards one of Berk’s peaks. We landed near the female night fury and I let Toothless join her. His protective side—that he’d shown toward Hiccup for so long—was coming out now, in all its glory, with his family that was just about to be formed. Rain and wind were blustering all around me, I was soaking wet, but this scene made me so happy that I didn’t care.

Suddenly, the thunder rolled just overhead, and a few seconds later lightning struck the three eggs at once. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Three small night furies came out of the eggs and their parents licked them clean. They were adorable, and I couldn’t believe I had the chance to be a part of this. Toothless seemed so happy… He raised his head towards me and I smiled at him, seized with emotion. It was at this very moment he realized he missed his master terribly, because he wasn’t there—next to me.

...

Two months had passed since Hiccup had gone. The night fury babies had all grown up, they were flying with their parents now. As for me, I still had hope, I had found one of Toothless’ auto-tail plans—it was a good start. So I was in the forge, trying to decipher Hiccup’s plan to know what I needed to built the tail.

“Twenty tons of steel… Uh… no, twenty kilos! Twenty kilos of steel!” I exclaimed. “I’m not gonna make it…” I sighed, head in hands, my arms leaning on a table.

I went back to my difficult deciphering when I suddenly heard voices raising from the centre of the village. I jumped out of my chair and rushed towards the sound of Berkians cheering. A young woman with braided ebony hair climbed down from her razorwhip to greet me.

“Astrid!” she cried, running into my arms.

“Heather? What are you doing here?” I asked, disconcerted.

“Well, I came to see you and the gang!” she exclaimed.

“You’re not in conflict with someone at the moment?” I asked.

“And no, my last conflicts came to an end weeks ago already! So I’m on sort of vacation, I guess? That’s why I came—to say hello!”

“You always have a home here, Heather. You can stay as long as you want.”

“Thank you Astrid, that’s very kind of you. Anyway, everything’s going great on Berk, I assume? I didn’t see the gang running up to meet me… Where did they all go?” she asked, jokingly, but with a worried look in her eyes nevertheless.

“Uh… Follow me to the forge, would you? I’ve got one or two things to tell you…”

So she followed me to the forge. I invited her to grab a chair and sat down next to her by my working table. I took her hand.

“Heather, what I’m going to say is hard to hear so—”

“Astrid, what is it? You’re scaring me…”

I took a deep breath.

“Hiccup is being held hostage by Drago Bludvist.”

Her face crumbled and she put her hand over her mouth.

“What? But how?” she said, shocked.

“We both got captured, but Drago wanted Hiccup for himself and Hiccup refused to go with him so Drago said if he disobeyed him, he’d come after me…”

“So Hiccup stayed to protect you… It’s so him… But what are you waiting for to go find him?”

“We can’t, Gobber and Valka made a deal to save me from Drago’s men. And anyway, we wouldn’t stand a chance, we aren’t enough to defeat them… Drago’s fleet is huge and Göteborg is a merchant town—too few people there even know that dragons exist...”

“Drago is in Göteborg? But what is he doing down there?”

“I don’t know but the fact he needs Hiccup’s help in his plan doesn’t bode well…”

“I know you Astrid, you’re not the type to give up so easily—so what are you going to do about it?”

“The deal was we never come back to Göteborg but… he never mentioned the dragons. I’m going to send Toothless to find Hiccup.”

“The only dragon who can’t fly alone? Hiccup has really rubbed off on you, you’ve lost me with your ‘element of surprise’ tactic!”

“Only Toothless can find him—plus he’s also really discreet, unlike the other dragons. And don’t worry about his solo flight—look.”

I showed her the sketches on the table. She stared at them, perplexed, then she raised her eyes and looked questioningly towards me.

“Hmm… What is this?”

“Hiccup made Toothless a tail so he could fly all alone, but Toothless didn’t want it. However, there are still some sketches and plans in his workshop that I’m trying to find in order to build this tail again so he can save Hiccup.”

“Good plan. And where are you at exactly?”

“Well, I only found the material checklist I’ll need to do it. I was deciphering it before you got here.”

“And what are the others doing?”

“They’re in charge of information. Valka and Gobber are trying to rally the other tribes to our cause. Meanwhile, the rest of the gang is keeping an eye on what’s going on in Göteborg.”

“Astrid,” she said with a smile, “I’m going to do everything I can to help you find Hiccup, I give you my word.”

She held me tight and I cracked. It was too much. She just got back and she was already offering her help. I tried to hold back my tears but I didn’t manage to do it.

“I miss him…” I whispered.

She caressed my hair, trying to console me, but I was inconsolable.

“Oh… Astrid… It’s gonna be okay… You’re strong… We will save him, together,” she stuttered.

I was strong, yes, but right now I just couldn’t be.

Spent the whole day in the forge together, deciphering the checklist of things we’d need to make Toothless’ tail. We successfully deciphered the checklist in its totality and we even started to understand the schematic of the tailfin on the list a little. Heather had promised she’d help me, and I knew she meant it.

The gang finally arrived, and were surprised to see Heather by my side. Snotlout ran into her direction and took her in his arms.

“Heather! It’s been a while!” he exclaimed.

She quickly extricated herself from his grip, but it was twins’ turn to lunge at her.

“So, Heather, what brings you to Berk?” Tuffnut asked..

“Is there a particular reason for your presence here?” Ruffnut raised.

Fishlegs approached Heather timidly in order to greet her in his turn and calm the situation.

“Hey Heather, how’s it been going since the last time we saw you?”

“Really well, thank you Fishlegs,” she answered with a fruity little voice.

“The village is throwing a party to celebrate your arrival Heather, let’s go to the Great Hall,” I announced.

“Fishlegs, will you come with me?” Heather asked.

“Who? Me?”

“Who else?” she smiled.

“Uh yeah, sure…”

So they headed together, hand in hand, for the Great Hall, I was starting to follow them when I heard Snotlout’s lamentations behind me.

“How could she prefer that to this?!” he said, gesturing to himself.

“And he still wonders why I’m not interested in him?” Ruffnut sighed to her brother.

We finally entered the imposing building. The party was in full swing inside—everybody appreciated Heather a lot on Berk and it was different from the usual atmosphere that prevailed in the village lately. We sat at a table all together and we started to talk about everything and nothing, it has been a while. I didn’t spend time with all my friends much anymore, and I missed it.

“You know Heather, you can sleep in my hut tonight if you’ve got nowhere to go? Of course, it would only be temporary, well I mean—” offered Fishlegs clumsily to Heather.

“I’d be happy to stay with you, Fishlegs,” Heather answered gently, smiling while looking at him amorously.

She was becoming incredibly dumb when it came to Fishlegs, I should tell her someday… I now had a true friend ready to help me and who supported me. Heather was my friend and I was happy she was there, by my side.

...

One month had passed since Heather’s arrival on Berk. We successfully found all Toothless’ tail plans despite the excellent hiding place Hiccup had chosen for them. Thanks to Heather, I managed to decrypt them all and we had started building the prototype with Gobber’s help. We were missing some elements for the processing, but we were on track to finish it soon enough to save Hiccup. Heather gave me back hope, a hope that was growing each day. I even resumed patrols—I was in great shape. I was—by the way—in the middle of a raid accompanied by Heather, Fishlegs and Snotlout. We were moving towards Göteborg in order to learn more about Drago’s intentions and projects. So we were going to check on the ships’ traffic in and out of the town. For the first time since Hiccup was gone, I was confident and I felt helpful. We had barely arrived but Snotlout had already spotted a boat.

“There’s something suspicious about this ship…” he said.

“I have a bad feeling about it too,” Fishlegs agreed. “Let’s go take a closer look!”

So we followed the boys to approach the ship to get a better look and see what was going on inside. We were concealed behind rocks to hide our presence and we observed the ship.

“Hey! Look! There are dragons in cages on deck!” Snotlout exclaimed.

“Oh my Thor! Oh my Thor! Oh my Thor!” Fishlegs repeated, panicked.

“These dragons are armoured!” I noticed.

“And those cages, those chains… They look like the ones Dagur used!” Heather noted.

We looked at each other simultaneously.

“Drago!” we shouted.

Snotlout and Fishlegs stared at us, perplexed.

“Since the beginning, it was Drago! He started his revenge much sooner than we could imagine… He’s the one who sold the dragon-proof ships to Dagur in the first place!” Heather exclaimed.

“And now, these armed dragons! He’s preparing a war by all the gods!”

“Well—girls, not that I want to interrupt you but—I think we got spotted!” Snotlout quipped.

“Let’s get out of here!” Heather shouted.

We moved away from the ship as fast as we could but men had already taken aim to shoot us down.

“Come on, speed it up girl!” Fishlegs moaned.

“What are you doing, Astrid? We have to go right now!” Heather yelled to me.

Suddenly, I didn’t feel right; everything started to go woozy on me… It must be about all these revelations—we were in even more danger now! I would have to undertake a multitude of procedures and I… I felt myself fall; I was falling from my dragon. In the distance, I heard Heather’s voice shouting my name and moving towards me into a dive to catch me, then nothing.

When I opened my eyes, Heather was standing over me, she seemed different, and she was smiling—she must have had a nasty fright. I scanned the room while passing a hand on my face, I was laying on a bed, obviously at Gothi’s. I turned my head towards Heather.

“What happened?”

“You fainted. You fell off your dragon and I caught you, barely...”

“Oh no… Did the men spot you because of me?!”

Heather burst out laughing—why wasn’t she taking me seriously?

“Astrid, everything is fine… In fact, I’ve got something to tell you…”

She was still standing there with this radiant smile on her lips—I didn’t understand.

“What? What is it? Why are you staring at me like that?” I asked, disconcerted.

She smiled again, then she took a deep breath.

“Astrid… you’re pregnant!” she exclaimed.

“What? But how?” I started choking.

“That’s why you’ve been acting so crazy lately!”

“And I don’t see anything…” I whispered.

I was surrounded by so many emotions at the same time… but fear dominated. I was afraid at the idea of losing the baby once again… I couldn't handle that a second time, especially without Hiccup.

“What is it? Are you okay?” Heather asked, worried.

“Yeah… It’s just— Heather, the last time I got pregnant… I— lost the baby…” I sobbed.

“I’m sorry.”

“You couldn’t have known,” I added.

“But it’s still good news, right? I mean, you’re pregnant! You’re gonna have a baby, isn’t it wonderful?” she exclaimed.

I smiled, on the verge of tears.

“Yes!” I acquiesced, emotional.

She put her arms around me and held me very tight against her. I was full of joy and at the same time also full of fear, but I was so happy to be pregnant again that it was all I could think about.

“I’m so happy for you two…” she whispered in my ear.

Hiccup. His comeback to Berk was vital now.

“Here, enjoy…” the man said ironically.

He came to feed me in my cell daily so that I would stay alive. He threw my bread through the bars and also dragged a bowl of soup between them, then he left. I ate my bread slowly in order to stretch out this moment that had become so precious these last four months.

I dipped my bread in the soup to restore some flavor but it was still flat and stale. However, this simple action of eating was keeping me alive, so I remained hopeful. I knew that I’d get out of here eventually. I didn’t receive any other whipping as violent as the one I had at my first day here. I got hit several times but nothing more. They used me for something else, for training their armoured dragons. Drago had visibly abused them and now, they were uncontrollable.

These dragons had become completely crazy and didn’t listen to anything, so I had spent hours with them, helping them relearn everything. I had to make them trust and listen to me, but it was extremely difficult. When I wasn’t with them, Drago invited me in his quarters and he told me about his evil projects. He was convinced I’d die before the war began and that nobody would come to save me.

I had to discuss and debate major issues with him. He was listening carefully to my remarks, but his arguments made him right—according to him, he was never wrong. Through our interactions, I learned what kind of man Drago was; a ruthless man, full of himself, believing he was above everyone else and sure to be the chief that all Viking folk had been waiting for.

Clearly, Drago was mentally ill. He was a man traumatized from seeing his family kidnapped by dragons and who wanted to get his revenge on something no longer relevant. Despite all that, at least now I knew important details of his military tactics that could help me to prepare Berk, if this war actually took place.

After a while, some men came to bring me to the training arena of the castle. I arrived in the arena and found one of the armoured dragons that I named Raspar. Drago was against naming dragons, but I had explained him the importance of a name in the climate of trust between the dragons and I and he didn’t argue. It was the only domain in which I was impressing him.

I approached Raspar, with whom I’d established a steady understanding, more or less—on account of his recent arrival at Göteborg—and I caressed his head gently. So I began the training session by showing him a few exercises. Everything was going great until he categorically refused to be saddled. I was trying to quietly calm him when Drago intervened, ordering me to hit the dragon if he didn’t listen.

“No! This dragon has been abused long enough,” I replied.

Drago flew into a rage.

“How dare you disobey my orders?! Guards! Bring him to me right away!” he ordered.

I didn’t have time to think before two of his men seized me by the arms and brought me in front of Drago. He took out a knife and asked his men to remove my shirt.

“Turn him over! You'll see what we do with guys who don’t respect the orders like you!”

He stuck his knife in my flesh, and I screamed.

“It hurts, doesn’t it?” he said.

He continued to carve my flesh with his knife, and with each new line he spoke to me.

“So do you think you’re gonna do it again?”

“No…” I answered with an inaudible voice.

“I didn’t hear, ‘no’ who?”

“No, Master,” I struggled to say.

He ripped my skin once again, letting thick drops of blood pour down my back. The pain was becoming more and more unbearable.

“Who’s giving the orders, Hiccup?” he finally asked.

“You are, Drago.”

I couldn’t believe it. After five hard months, we finally did it: Toothless’ auto-tail was done! I was in the forge with Gobber and Heather, holding them tight between my arms.

“You can’t imagine how grateful I am, I couldn’t have done anything without you!” I exclaimed. “Thank you.”

“Aw, c’mon, it’s the least we could do to save the chief!” Gobber retorted, laughing.

“Astrid, what are you waiting for? Go find him!” Heather added.

I smiled to them and slipped away outside, the gear under my arms, looking for Toothless. He wasn’t hard to find. I approached him, but he moved away from me when he recognized the object I was holding.

“Wait! You know, we talked about this... I know you didn’t want to use it anymore, but this time, it’s for Hiccup. I want you to save him, Bud,” I smiled, eyes full of hope.

He finally approached me and rubbed his head against me, I caressed his head affectionately, then I held him tight in my arms.

“Thank you, Bud,” I whispered.

I removed his old tail and attached the new one instead.

“Come on, try it!”

He flew over me and tried several maneuvers in order to check the tail’s functionality, then he came down to see me.

“Well, everything seems to be working perfectly…”

I put a reassuring hand on the top of his head while looking straight in his eyes.

“I rely on you, Bud, everyone does and I believe in you. Please, bring me back Hiccup, Toothless.”

He licked me over my whole face—a sign of agreement with him—and he flew away to Göteborg.

I couldn’t hold on much longer in here. I had lost a lot of weight, and I couldn’t get out of my cell as much as I used to since refusing to obey Drago. I spent my entire days locked in my jail, waiting and withering. I was in rougher shape than I’d ever been—plus, Drago’s men were hitting me again and their instrument of choice was the whip. I couldn’t sleep anymore; it was like living an endless torture, both mental and physical. The only thing that kept me alive now was Astrid. The image of her smile. She was waiting for me.

Against all odds, men came to find me in my cell.

“Drago wants to see you, in the arena,” one of them announced.

I could barely stand on my feet. I finally managed to stand up, and followed the men through the narrow corridors of the castle’s tunnels. Once we arrived at Drago’s side, he told me that he wanted to see me for a special reason.

Suddenly, he was interrupted by a loud thud—and a cry I would have known anywhere. A plasma blast followed the recognizable cry of a night fury. I couldn’t believe my eyes.

“Toothless!”

In the smoke generated by the firing, he caught me in his talons and took me away from the arena—soon, we were flying across the castle. In the distance I heard the angry shouting of Drago’s men, but I didn’t care anymore. I was once again a free man. Toothless slowed a moment to allow me to climb on his back, then took off immediately, flying at full speed, without any help. I leant on him and surrounded his neck with my arms.

“Thank you Bud…” I whispered. “You saved me…”

I gently tapped his head before collapsing into nothing, I need to get some rest, and since he was able to fly alone—somehow—I let myself pass out from exhaustion.

When I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, we had not yet arrived on Berk. It took a few minutes before I could see the village’s imposing statues, situated not far from the isle’s entrance. I was finally able to make out the shape of the village, and started to hear villagers’ voices… announcing my arrival? We were very close.

I saw all these happy, relieved people but I was only looking for one person in the middle of this crowd. And I finally found her. Toothless slowed rapidly in the middle of the square. I dismounted and I ran as fast as I could to join her.

“Astrid!” I shouted.

“Oh my gods, Hiccup!” she exclaimed.

We fell roughly into each other’s arms, and I clasped her to me with all my might. I was clinging to her as if my life depended on it. I tightened my grip to feel her closer to me, I needed to feel her presence, to know she was really here, with me.

“I’m… so sorry… for not being here,” I murmured between two sobs. “I love you Astrid, I love you so much!”

“Shh… you’re here now,” she said, caressing my hair with a trembling hand.

Then, she took my head between her hands.

“And I love you…” she added, tears in her eyes.

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gobigorgohome2016 · 6 years

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Taper Week 1 + Final Big Workout

I am in the home stretch, which is strange because I’m feeling very different from other marathon training cycles.

Normally at this point, I am plotting out exactly what I am going to do as soon as I cross the finish line: drink a beer, eat a burger, and not engage in any physical activity for a glorious 14 days. Last year, the US half marathon championships couldn’t come soon enough. Even on the starting line, all I could think about was covering 13.1 miles as quickly as possible solely so that I could take a break. Definitely not the right mindset for running your best!

Traditionally, taper has been hard for me. Not from the standpoint of “taper crazies” - I’m not going to lie, when people complain about running less I just don’t get it. At the same time, my taper is relatively small. I ran 108 miles for my peak week, and last week I ran 92 (which includes one day off). When you track my 7 day stretch from Tuesday to Monday, I still covered 102 miles. This week will be lower, though, coming in at 76. It will be weird to only run once per day most of the week. Actually, today was my first single run in weeks and I felt like I had infinitely more time on my hands! Of course that means I was less productive, because the best way to get things done is to be really busy, amirite?

I’m starting to wonder if my early season setbacks will have actually served a greater purpose. I feel like the last few weeks have been a turning point in my fitness and that things are coming together. About 4 weeks ago I was running a warm up and I thought to myself you need to just be okay with the fact this might not be a PR training cycle. After I had that thought, I wound up running a better-than-expected workout and I feel like I’ve been on the up and up ever since. I’m not sure I have ever made it to this point in training feeling as though my legs are still fresh.

On Sunday I did what I love to do during taper: I pored over my running logs and looked at data. I love to look at my mileage totals. Here is my mileage during the same 92 day periods leading up to each race:

Twin Cities: 1,019 miles Olympic Trials: 1,163 miles Pittsburgh: 1,147 miles

At the end of the day, I will have only run 16 fewer miles than I did in the 3 months leading up to the Trials. That doesn’t tell the whole story, though. That training window includes a 3 week period where I was dealing with a hamstring issue. If we look at the final 6 weeks of training, the mileage totals are slightly different:

Twin Cities: 505 miles Olympic Trials: 554 miles Pittsburgh: 565 miles

I have definitely come on stronger the last few weeks whereas in past training, I have struggled during taper to have motivation to run. At the end of the day, training and racing only produces more data, so it will be interesting for me to see how the increased mileage plays a role in the outcome.

I’m in the process of reading Deena Kastor’s Let Your Mind Run. This book could not have come out at a better time for me. I like to read during taper. Before Twin Cities, I read Once a Runner. Before the Trials, I read Suzy Favor Hamilton’s Fast Girl.

Deena’s positivity has helped me look at the last few months and reframe them. At one point I truthfully wondered why I was bothering to run this marathon when it didn’t seem like I was going to be in my best shape. I will be the first to admit that I struggle at times with perfectionism when it comes to running (seriously nothing else though. sometimes I wonder how I graduated college). Something that tremendously helped was when my coach reminded me this race doesn’t have to be perfect - it just has to be good, I’m already a pretty damn good runner.

Deena’s book inspired me to reframe a lot of the negative thoughts that have been holding me back lately. For instance, I have used one word to describe this training cycle: setback. I’m pretty sure I have uttered that word more times in the last 4 months than I have in my entire life. Instead of thinking about the things that have hindered progress, why not think of them as things I have overcome? At the end of the day, I have run a shit ton of miles after dealing with:

-a calf injury -a plantar injury -a hamstring injury -a badly infected blister -a couple illnesses -a post-tib issue -the worst case of eczema I’ve experienced in my 20′s -unmet expectations at races -new food sensitivities that undoubtedly contributed to the previous 8 items on this list

I prevailed despite all of these things. What’s so hard about a marathon after your toe doubles in size because it is infected and is so painful you have to drive barefoot in the middle of winter because your shoe is applying too much painful pressure on your toe when you hit the gas pedal?

Deena’s book is also helping me see the other things I do - the things that are easy to forget - that make me a better athlete. Joe Vigil has a quote that there is no such thing as overtraining, just underresting. I love that. This training cycle I have made it a point to:

-nap at least 60 minutes every day -eliminate foods that I know my body cannot tolerate (science is cool) -get a massage every 2 weeks -set up mental game sessions as needed -have increased contact with my coach -make dietitian appointments as needed -make visualization a priority -do daily yoga instead of one session per week -more core/lifting -practice race day [this training cycle I made it a point to practice getting up at 4 AM before a couple long run workouts so that I wasn’t in shock when I had to do it for the race]

There is no guarantee that any of these things are going to make a better runner; but, there was something that Des Linden said leading up to Boston that spoke to me: I could live with myself if I didn’t win Boston. I decided I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t try. (referring to her training)

If I don’t reach my ultimate goal of breaking 2:30 in the marathon, I’ll live. But, as long as I am training I will have a hard time not doing everything in my power that I know will contribute to success. I often think of my mom telling me in high school (when I was half-assing my assignments) “if it’s a job worth doing, it’s a job worth doing well.”

The past week of workouts has been good. I’m not sure where the notion came from that taper weeks are easy. In reality, the lower mileage gives way to more intensity. Here’s what my week looked like:

M: off (first dasy off in 6 weeks!) T: AM: 4, PM: 12 mi total w/ 6 x mi @ marathon effort ending with a mile at half marathon effort W: AM: 10, PM: 6 Th: AM: 6 x 400 m @ mile race pace w/ full recovery, PM: 7 F: AM: 10, PM: 5 Sa: AM: 8, PM: 5 Su: AM: 16 mi cut down finishing in 5:44; PM: 4 mi shake out

Total for the week was 92, and I’m really happy with how my legs felt during that cut down. I remember that workout before Twin Cities and crawling through the shake out later in the day because my legs were trashed. The biggest difference I have noticed during the past 4 or 5 weeks is that my legs are recovering really well.

Today was my last big workout, and it was actually one I have never done before! The plan was 3 x 15:00 at threshold pace. While there is little fitness to be gained at this point, I’m so glad I did this workout because it was a huge mental win.

I went to the tow path for the workout, which is a crushed limestone path in Indy. I figured 15:00 should be roughly 2.5 miles. My plan was to do a 2.5 mi stretch, then a 2.5 mi loop through a neighborhood, then the 2.5 mi stretch back. I did not account for how much rain we have had lately, and the tow path was a muddy, sloppy, puddle-dotted mess. We also have had pretty cold weather, so today was quite the contrast with 60 degrees and 100% humidity / light rain. Fun fact: I have run in a sports bra and shorts once this year, and that was in February.

My superhero running strength is that I’m really good at not going out too fast, and at progressively picking up the pace in workouts as I go. Actually, when this doesn’t happen I generally know something might be wrong with me. Today was not that day.

My first mile of my first 15:00 was 5:49. This is not my threshold pace on a perfect weather day, and it’s definitely not my threshold pace on wet, muddy, soggy ground when I am slipping and sliding everywhere. My second mile was 5:46. I wound up covering 2.57 mi in 15:00 minutes.

My fatal flaw as a runner is that, when I see these splits, I feel as though I must continue getting faster. not the point of this workout. So, I convinced myself that I needed to slow down.

My first mile was 5:52 of the second 15:00 tempo. Honestly, my legs felt like garbage. I was running through a neighborhood on completely soaked streets trying to make turns and I ran way too hard in my previous effort. My quads felt like crap. My 2nd mile was 6:00. I panicked. Quads are heavy + slowing down. When was the last time I felt this way? Oh, right, when I was anemic in the fall. At 12:00 I just stopped running. I contemplated calling it a day and jogging back to my car. Actually, I convinced myself that was what I should do. If my quads are heavy, why add extra strain? Then I spiraled. What if I feel this way during the marathon and just walk off the course?

Finally I decided I was going to finish the workout no matter what, even if it meant running 6:30 pace. I took a couple minutes to regroup and decided the final tempo would be 18:00, to account for the 3 that I missed when I cut the second one short. I would start slow (closer to my actual threshold pace), and no matter what stick this one out. First mile: 6:07. Much better. Second mile: 6:02. 3rd mile: 5:55. So, I made a workout that wasn’t supposed to be hard much more difficult than it had to be.

But, I’m happy that it happened that way. It is very rare for me to have a bad day in practice. It’s even rarer for me to stop. I don’t get a lot of opportunities to practice bringing it back around and making the day successful. Having at least one experience like this going into the marathon is important, because if there is anything we’ve learned in the past 10 days, it’s that you can think you’re going to drop out of a race at half way, then find yourself becoming the first American in 33 years to win the Boston marathon.

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worldcakecakecake · 6 years

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Good Luck Friedrich

A series of video diaries by Isabella Beilschmidt for her baby brother, Friedrich, where she details and explains the lives of their hectic family.

Once again, I deal with other things how I can. I hope you enjoy!

Video 4

“You’re now one month old Friedrich, and how did you celebrate it this morning? Well papa took you to the doctor and afterwards you’re going to visit Herakles, Kiku and Marianna, who really want to see you, but they live up in Davos which is an hour’s drive from here, so you’ll be gone for most of the day. Right now we have the house to ourselves and since papa is so responsibly smart, guess who he left in charge…” That very person walked by her room, in his hold a great supply of drinks and bags of chips. They were so much that they piled and were in danger of falling over, but Alessandro had some unique talent to keep them all together in an impressive balance.

“Sup,” he tried to greet with his teeth hanging to a smaller bag of popcorn.

“Are you really going to cram yourself and watch South Park all day?” Isabella hadn’t thought he’d be serious.

“Papa is not here, there’s no baby, Heinz went to Bern, I don’t have anything to do for the university ingression and I have the room to myself… I want to make use of it,” he winked and finger gunned before he continued down the hall to his room to start, the door shut and off was Alessandro, forgotten to the world.

“He’s doing such a great job,” she rolled her eyes, taking a standing to make her way through the halls and downstairs, taping what each of the available brothers and sisters were doing.

Analiese was on her laptop, cellphone on her ear as she scrolled through social media, surely with the latest gossip, chattering away in French to a friend from Paris. Aldrich was going through one of his animal books, hypnotized by the pictures to notice his older sister passing by. Giovanna was coloring on her books, singing songs and waving excitedly to Isabella as she passed by.

“The house is rarely this quiet and perhaps I should make use of it and finish those books uncle Roderich gave me for my last birthday, but I really wanted to record something for the diaries,” she told, reaching the terrace screen. She moved it aside to bring her to the open air, showing a rather misty day, not leaving much space for sunlight and blue to enter, cold and with hints of coming rain. It was summer.

She took sitting in one of the couches there, with a huff, a stretch and even a sigh as if ready to take a nap. It was siesta time she knew, yet she promised herself not to fall to that temptation, not when she had to do this recording, not when there were the books and even that jog around the hill afterwards.

“So, last time we were talking about how Analiese came into the family, and since we’re going in order it’s only obvious that I tell mine now.” She took her usual story telling position, placing the camera upon a stable surface that could keep its lenses only on her and the imagery she was to create.

“Before anything, I’d like to point out that I was one that papa and vatti actually planned to have… on baby nostalgia and slight jealousy…”

The building was at the town center, of old and picturesque design in yellow, with a clock tower standing high and going along with the beauty of the Swiss scene. Feliciano parked the car in front, in heavy breaths, watching to the ordeal of parents arriving to bring their kids to their first day of kindergarten. Some hugged to their parents tightly not wanting to let go, others cried and others ran off with a simple wave in great bravery. Feliciano wished it could be that easy for him, that the worry wasn’t constraining his breath and accelerating the pace of his heart. He looked to the back, first meeting Analiese, his now one year old daughter biting and holding to a duck plush toy of hers, managing a bright and loud laugh once her eyes met with her papa’s. It was beautifully relieving for the situation.

At either side of her sat the twins, both wearing equal black sweaters, school bags ready on their backs, jeans and shoes specifically chosen for what they were to start. Their gazes remained on the bustling of people, on all the children their age, going on alone into the building, as they should, as their vatti and papa had told them that morning.

“Come on boys,” Feliciano decided, popping open the door to them help them in their dismount, taking Analiese in his arms as the twin took slow and nervous step in front of him, Feliciano’s legs constantly bumping into their backs.

“Boys, don’t feel so scared, this is a very nice place where you will learn many things and make many good friends,” Feliciano tried to excite them, if enough to have them continuing, albeit with nervous hands constantly tugging at their sweaters, as if trying to hide their presence from being there. The closer they moved, the closer they came into peeking the entrance, to bright colors, shouts, running, different kinds of teachers welcoming the children inside or talking to different kind of concerned parents. It was all wonderful…but also intimidating, they found themselves each hugging one of their papa’s legs, not wanting to be released alone into this.

Perhaps it wasn’t a moment for Feliciano to giggle at such adorability, but his twins were indeed scared and refused to let go with an assured tightness, even hiding their faces.

A young woman spotted them, recognizing the boys and the omega father from the pictures they had sent with the inscription. She readily came forward understanding the predicament, baring a gentle smile and a kind wave to which Feliciano replied with his own sweet grin and eyes.

“Hello, you must be Feliciano Valenti, I’m Claire Gotti and I will be your children’s teacher and caretaker,” she introduced.

“Wow, look Heinrich, Alessandro, she’s your teacher! Doesn’t she look so pretty and nice!” He impressed, rubbing on their hair enough confidence for them to peak and nod in admittance. She was indeed pretty and looked very nice.

“Ah, and whose Heinrich and Alessandro?” She leaned and tried to ask them as nicely as possible.

The both of them looked extremely alike and now Feliciano was wondering if accepting Ludwig’s idea to dress them in the same black sweater had been the right thing to do the first day of kindergarten.

The boys were still too shy, Feliciano had to intervene once again.

“This is Heinrich,” he introduced, petting his hair while also pointing to the purple little bracelet he wore. “And this is Alessandro,” he pointed to the yellow bracelet. He was lucky to have gotten this idea before heading out, knowing how people tended to confuse them, especially when both were wearing the same thing and people were meeting them for the first time.

She nodded and winked Feliciano’s directions as a thanks to the little detail. “Well it’s very nice to meet you Heinrich and Alessandro. I can’t wait to play and learn so many things with you two. Our class would love to have you both and would love to meet you as well. You’ll have all the toys and games to play with, plus lots of things for arts and craft. I’m sure you’re going to like it here,” she persuaded just enough for the boys to slowly release, indeed coaxed with all those wonders that they wanted to be immediate part of…but it meant letting go, it meant going alone, away from the hold of their family for the first time.

They slowly began to ease away, but a tight grasp continued on their papa’s leg, showing the still clear hesitation.

“Go on, go on,” Feliciano had to instill, leaning down to push them slightly, both continuing on their steps, looking upwards to their new teacher, awaiting for her to take them to what she promised.

“I’m so excited and I can’t wait to start,” she offered both her hands for each to take, and she inspired enough confidence for them to let themselves, for her to begin in her pull away, for them to begin their entrance, Feliciano watching with a proud smile as he held more caringly to Analiese in his arms, who looked on confused as to why her older brothers were leaving…and why did her papa look kind of sad?

Well…there they went. It was surely time to go, to turn around, make his way to his car. It was just as Heinrich turned.

“Papa…papa…PAPA!” He shouted, he cried, he ran in a dash towards him, holding with a harsh grasp to his legs, keeping him in place, not giving him the chance to turn away. “Papa! Papa! Papa!” He continued to shout as heavy tears began to fall down his face, reddening, jumping in great anguish to keep him there, to bring him along if he had to.

“Heinrich, Heinrich, my little Heinrich,” Feliciano had to lean down to soothe in whispers, to try and wrap an arm around him to hug close and pat while the other held to a very confused Analiese. “You have to be brave, you have to do this without me.”

“No! No! No! No! I don’t wanna!” He kept insisting as he kept a tighter hold, practically choking at the hold he kept of his father’s neck, trying to climb to even wrap his legs around his waist.

“Heinrich please,” he continued to soothe, kissing his head, but it only worsened Heinrich’s need in staying, to soothe himself more into his neck and hold.

“No, no, no,” he continued to insist.

“Heinrich…” Feliciano sighed, letting himself caress him, have his hold, his staying, until he could continue to speak. “You have to start learning to be with yourself, to be a big boy, meet your own people and find your own fun. You won’t really be by yourself, you’ll have Alessandro with you and Miss Gotti and whatever new friends you’ll meet. It’s only for a bit, I’ll be here to pick you up as soon as it’s time to go.”

He felt him ease, the tears subside, the blowing only those to relax, to sit up, rub away his tears as he tried to find speech. “Promise?” He wanted to be sure.

“Of course mio bello, I would never abandon you in such a way,” he truly made sure, kissing his head, a trusting caress on his back and one last hold truly conveying that promise.

“Now…do you think you can be brave enough?” Feliciano gazed to his face, the red now fading, and although his eyes watered, he tried to be strong enough to not let them fall, to release himself from his hold, rubbing his hands in what seemed some last preparation.

“I’ll be here at two to pick you up,” Feliciano made sure with one last smile, one Heinrich managed to bloom with his own, the grin showing the glow of a Valenti.

“Now go on, be brave, have fun and make some new friends,” he excited, seeing as Heinrich flew off alone, reaching slowly to take Miss Gotti’s hand. Feliciano sent her an apologetic expression and shrug, but she smiled in understanding, having dealt with this kind of situation enough times.

Now they could go in, the three turning and ready for the warming glow of their class…or so they had thought.

It was Alessandro’s turn to turn as they came closer, as he could feel the cooling of the classroom and the presence of their father leaving.

“PAPA!” Came his cry, came his running this time, Heinrich started crying again, oh boy.

After more convincing, finally the boys were in their classroom, Feliciano had Analiese on her car seat and he took his seat on the wheel, taking a breath of relief, a relax over the driver as he tried to get his calm back.

The car was too silent, there was no excited chatter, none of the boys trying on games and faces to make their younger sister laugh, no jump, no wondrous glamour as they would point to everything that took their interest along the road. He left his boys alone for the first time, not believing that they were already in kindergarten, all while his baby girl swung her feet in her car seat, trying to babble a song. Time just became too obvious that moment, he began to miss their presence, recalling how it felt like it had just been seconds ago when he held them both as little newborns in his arms. He looked down to that emptiness of his arms now…and that’s when the tears fell, that he noticed that they were already coating his cheek, in damp, in redness. The whimpering and moaning started, and before he knew it, he was once again over the wheel letting this new misery pour out, all while Analiese looked on to him with question, trying to move and see what could be the matter. He let himself that moment of tears, wondering what he could tell Analiese to calm her down, thinking about heading home and playing with her while he made them some lunch. Yes that thought made him feel slightly better, he could raise his head once again, give a smile to his young girl while he tried to rub off the tears. She smiled still just as beautiful, as eager for a game despite and Feliciano was going to give it to her.

It was then that he noticed the car parked next to his, a blond spiky haired gentleman surely whimpering, crying over his own wheel, holding tightly and surely trying to regain some sense. Feliciano lowered his side of the car window, trying to get his attention.

“Hello, sir,” he called, with a slight trace of his own sadness, one that the other instantly caught, relating and letting his green eyes be showed with a continuing fall of tears, his pale and freckled expression reddened but welcoming to his worry. There was no embarrassment in showing his tears when the other felt just the same.

“You left somebody too?” Feliciano asked.

“Yes…my son. He’s so big now, starting kindergarten…I…I miss him so much.” Back to the whimpering, new tears forming.

“I left my twins and…” he tried hard not to, but there he broke, a sob starting, “I miss them already too!”

“They grew up so fast!”

“They were once so tiny!”

“You could cradle them!”

“And hug all their bodies tightly!”

“And now they’re here!”

“All grown up!”

“We’re losing them!”

The rest were unintelligible exchanged sobs, tears and wallowing, leaving Analiese lost as she looked between them trying to find an answer.

“Aw, she’s an absolute beauty. She looks just like you. Are the twins anything like you too?” The man who Feliciano now knew as Arthur asked after having cooed at the young baby girl enough, who had a comfortable sitting on her omega father’s lap.

They choose a quaint little café in the town, a gorgeous one that both had learned to adore in their time in St. Moritz, sharing good coffee and sweets.

“A little from both their parents, but since they’re both blond everyone quickly assumes Heinrich and Alessandro look more like my mate,” Feliciano rolled his eyes, earning a gentle smile from Arthur.

“Heinrich and Alessandro? Such sweet names. Is your mate Swiss?”

“Oh no, he’s German, but we’ve been living here for about five years now. What about you?”

“Alfred and I came about five years ago as well when he got a transfer, shortly afterwards Aaron was born.”

“Ah, so this cute little Aaron must be as old as my twins."

“Indeed, perhaps they’ll have their chance to meet today.”

They had indeed hoped so if it meant play dates where they could speak as lovely as they did today.

Feliciano returned home as soon as he got his message from Ludwig, who was heading his way back after work and getting some groceries. Both wanted to meet to start getting ideas for dinner, arriving at the same time and quickly greeting in their usual kiss and heading inside. In the process of throwing stuff to the table and placing Analiese to crawl around the rugged floor with her toys, Feliciano told Ludwig about what had occurred on the twins’ first day of kindergarten.

“-so they started crying and well…” Feliciano was hesitant as he looked through the cards of recipes.

“Don’t tell me you started crying too,” Ludwig chuckled as he placed some items on the fridge from the groceries.

“Okay so…I did,” he had to admit, which earned a beautiful laugh from Ludwig. “And I met this nice Englishman today who left his son as well…we started crying together at the parking spot.” How easily he could make Ludwig laugh, smile and glow so delightfully.

“Feliciano, it’s only kindergarten, they’re still our little boys,” he convinced, letting his hands rub on his shoulder, a quick kiss on it as he then left to place things in other cabinets.

“Still, it reminded me of how much time is passing, how one moment they’re little babies and the next they’re going to kindergarten. One day they’ll be going to the Gymnasium and then they’re off to study and I won’t be seeing them as much and I’ll be crying some more.” His eyes watered yet again as he was decided on the recipe, saving the little box and showing the card to Ludwig, who nodded in acceptance.

“And we’ll be enjoying every step and process of watching them grow into their own men. It’s a kind of blessing that shouldn’t receive these tears, especially after we’re an important part of it,” Ludwig assured with his own confident smile, a brightening enough for Feliciano to receive and give him the same trust to his words.

“And since we’re cooking lasagne, I’ll go pick some tomatoes from the backyard.” Ludwig already began moving ahead.

“I’ll watch.”

They moved forward to the terrace, sliding open the door, Ludwig taking the route down to the slope of their hill where their garden was while Feliciano gazed from the terrace, leaning occasionally as he tried to take better sights of all the flowers, bushes, trees, fruits and vegetables they had grown, all beautiful and ready for their picking. The rush of the wind was a nice comfort, occasionally interrupted by Analiese’s babble as she played with her dolls, adorable, making Feliciano smile as he took occasional glances to her sitting in the living room.

Analiese mistook his leaning as her papa about to leave, and thus, trying to stop him or join him, she pulsed herself forward, standing, her little legs creating her first move towards him, wobbling and trying to call him. Feliciano, as he turned back to her, expected from her babbling to see her having crawled her way forward, instead saw her walking… she was walking…walking!

“Mio dio!” Feliciano loudly exclaimed, eyes widened as his expression and body, truly impressed and for a moment not noticing the way Analiese spread her arms hoping for a holding. She jumped, she continued with her sounds and yet Feliciano was too shocked to move his hands from the widening of his mouth, staring on to the sureness Analiese now stood in.

“What’s wrong?” Ludwig quickly wondered as he came back up to the terrace holding the tomatoes, almost dropping them as he met his little girl standing, giving him a smile and instead walking forward to him expecting his holding if her omega father wasn’t going to.

“Oh…” Ludwig understood, yet giving her a smile to show his pride.

“She’s walking! She’s walking!” Feliciano couldn’t believe, new tears brimming.

At her omega father’s sudden sadness, she moved forward to him once again, more intense in her jumps, in her arms extending, wanting to give him comfort and to just be in the warmth of his arms. This time Feliciano kneeled, taking her, raising her and giving her all the intensity of his love to her through a tight embrace, decorating her curls and little head with his kisses and she grinned and laughed.

Ludwig saw just how alike Analiese was to Feliciano, a copy of smiles that could be seen clearly…if Feliciano wasn’t crying.

Many days on, Heinrich and Alessandro were slowly getting used to their kindergarten scheduling, especially after Feliciano started creating these wall arts for their calendars, exciting them and making them eager for their days of play at their school. No more tears, no more shouts in the morning begging for their return home, just a usual of smiles and jumps ready for whatever new activity.

As their routine became more established, as their presence was better known, Heinrich and Alessandro began making their own friends, of their age, interest, with games to play and toys to share. Between those many was Aaron Jones, who was to turn five years old and thus invited his new friends to come over to his birthday party at the Jones-Kirkland residence. Arthur insisted in the invitation for Feliciano to come, along with Ludwig who he hadn’t met yet and was eager to as Alfred wanted to properly meet them both.

Alfred and Arthur held a property as large as Ludwig and Feliciano’s, their green space more grounded than their own slope. It was perfect for the party, the space and opening enough for all the running, screaming and playing children who threw all kinds of things and let them remain on the ground for others to then use for their own games. The parents remained sitting at the terrace, enjoying in chats, food, drinks and laughs. Ludwig and Alfred got along splendidly, both talking of their love for dogs and how they hoped to adopt one soon to add to their own families. Analiese remained around Ludwig, running around him as other parents or teenagers cooed at her beauty and played what games they could with her. Ludwig kept a faithful watch on her as well as the twins who were with the rest of the kids running around the field. Feliciano helped Arthur with the food (It was direly needed), chatting and meeting other parents with who they shared their advice and experiences.

“Your house is wonderful. How much time did it take you to fix it?” Feliciano asked, loving the garden Arthur had told him he worked hard on.

The blond was confused at first, but then he remembered how Feliciano told him that his own house had been in ruins when they had first gotten it and how they were still working diligent to fix it to this day.

“None, it was just like this when Alfred and I got it.”

Alfred and Arthur were older, they had secured jobs, expenses and connections when they came to Switzerland…unlike Ludwig and Feliciano…who were nineteen and eighteen at the time, with nothing and having to deal with what they could get in their situation.

“How many rooms does the house have?” Feliciano quickly asked, not wanting to waddle in his uncomfort.

“Five.”

“Isn’t that a little too much for just the three of you?”

“Well um…” Arthur blushed, he had to show a grin, he couldn’t hide in his glee, “it won’t be just the three of us for much longer,”

“Huh?”

“I have something to announce later, then you will understand.” Arthur quickly changed the topic on other matters and Feliciano went along.

By the late afternoon, Aaron blew his candles after the birthday singing, joined in applauses, the little boy’s smile and then his congratulation from his own parents, coming to kiss his cheeks, holding him and posing for pictures. It was as much as the commotion had died down, now everybody eating their slices of cake, when Aaron remembered something.

“Dad, didn’t you say you will tell me about a special present by now?” The boy was truly curious, his big slice of cake almost forgotten in his wondering.

Arthur smiled and thought it time, calling out to Alfred to come near and for all to listen.

“I have an announcement to make about a change that is to take place, about…a new person that will come into our lives.”

Everyone had perked, but none more strongly than Alfred’s and Aaron’s.

“Aaron…you’re going to have a sibling, and Alfred, you’re going to be a father again, I’m pregnant.”

Everyone of course delighted in big smiles, Alfred screamed as Aaron did and they both came crashing into him showing their excitement, blabbering words that Arthur couldn’t understand. The room erupted into applauses and congratulations, Feliciano joining…but his excitement wasn’t as intonated, in fact it was weak, it died out while all were still in the midst. To Ludwig’s surprise, he didn’t barge into the family to wish his own congratulations, blessings and wishings, he stayed by his side, with a downcast in his eyes and a sadness that shouldn’t be present in a festivity, especially after that kind of announcement. Ludwig placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, pulling him closer, a kiss on his head hoping for a kind of relief, but Feliciano only leaned into his embrace with haunting thoughts still.

Alfred and Arthur had a beautiful house they got as it was, with a perfect view, standing and space. They didn’t rebuild it from the bottom, they didn’t hold it, they didn’t spend sleepless nights wondering if a piece of the ceiling could fall over their heads or their child’s, they didn’t have to exhale stinks of age, they didn’t have to worry about income or nightmares of it not being enough. The Jones came here with a touch of family, with no disgraces, no secrets, no rebellions and no disappointments. Aaron must probably know and see his grandparents often, gets invited to family reunions and can confide in them for anything. Heinrich, Alessandro and Analiese only had two uncles and four cousins of blood, the rest those who were close and could remain in their trust as to be family.

Heinrich and Alessandro were four years old and surely would remember the ruin they lived the first years of their lives, already running with laughter and confidence of what they could take leading away from their parents. Analiese, one year old, walking, jumping even as she took from the excitement around her, beginning her lead, her growth, if even with faithful watches from her parents and her heavy dependence on them still.

Soon they would have no babies at home, whatever time they had of them as such now gone and ready for a new phase.

They should be excited, they should be smiling, proud that their friends were soon going to have such a wonderful chance, and yet Ludwig and Feliciano soured, they envied for all that was to pass and of what they could not have anymore.

< Video 3.2 Video 4.2 >

#Good Luck Friedrich #gerita #gerita fanfiction #gerita fanfic #gerita fic

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ibroughtthisonmyselfpixels · 7 years

Text

The Questions of Yori Funayūrei

1.) What is the most important thing to them? (meaning a person or thing specifically i.e. friends/family)

If it’s all the same to you, I’ll get back to this at the end.

@futurecarrie

2.) Do they have any deep, dark secrets? What are they? Is their biggest secret the fact they killed someone, or is it more like they wet the bed until they were 8?

Obviously, the biggest secret they keep is that their books are not their own - that their ghostwriter has filled in those blanks to boost sales and give them a future. But there are other, lower-key secrets at play too. Here’s one for now: once, when they were ten years old, they climbed to the roof of their Ojiisan’s house and placed a makeshift shachihoko-shaped shibi on it, in the hope that it would rain the next day so they wouldn’t have to go to school. Amazingly enough, it thundered for the next two days, which they do not chalk up to coincidence.

Here’s another: the crack on their face is, for the most part, just for show. There’s truth under the paint, but that’s for another time.

3.) If something bad happened (i.e. their mum was killed), are they more likely to cry or get angry?

Sort of a mixture of both? It depends on the severity of the bad thing. Irritation tends to be the default, though.

4.) What’s one of their favourite generic items (meaning something that isn’t special to them in any way, but if someone gave it them they’d be very happy)?

...This is to do with that crane game that helps relationship development in the Island Time section of DR2, isn’t it? Well, since you asked, it’d probably be a new book, or if books don’t count as generic, a pen.

5.) What is one of their least favourite generic items (again meaning something that isn’t special/unique to them (like a chocolate bar or something))?

They would probably react to being given a tomato - cut or whole or in sauce - in the same way Pekoyama would react to a vibrating kokeshi.

6.) What’s their relationship like with their parents?

Their parents died when Yori and Megumi were at a young age. Papa sat at the controls of their biplane as it crashed, with Mama holding his hand to the last. They have been raised by their Ojiisan ever since, a World War II veteran who found solace in literature, and taught his grandchildren to do the same. Both, Yori in particular, owe a lot of their passion for writing and reading to Ojiisan; he is proud to be that inspiration, and would go to the ends of the world for them... of the world we know or or any other.

7.) Do they have any fans (if their talent permits them to have fans)? Do they like said fans?

Well, of course any author likes attention. Those who say they don’t are either shy to the point of no return, lying, or in the wrong profession...

8.) Do they have any siblings? How do they feel about said siblings?

If it wasn’t obvious yet, Megumi Funayūrei, the SHSL Ghostwriter, is their sibling! Yori is the elder twin by forty-five minutes. And, well... depending on the day, their feelings towards their twin can be quite hard to pinpoint. They love them, of course - most days. Other days, the resentment can be a little harder to hold back than before. They love Megumi, and they hate them, and they hate that they hate and love them both at once.

9.) What three words would they use to describe themselves?

‘Smoked-up mirror, broken.’

10.) What three words would others use to describe them?

‘What the fuck?’

11.) Any fears?

Vines. There’s something unnaturally snakelike about them. Unnaturally... venomous.

12.) If they were offered 1,000,000 of their currency to do something immoral, would they do it?

See, as a British person responding on a meta level who can’t turn its nitpick off, a million yen is only about £7,132, which would still be a lot, but not a life changing amount. But for Yori, with only a vague idea of Western currency to compare it against, a million is a million whatever the conversion rate...

13.) What’s their stance on religion?

Fascinating. Beautiful. Terrifying. Unbelievable.

14.) What’s their stance on the supernatural?

Fascinating. Beautiful. Terrifying. All too believable.

15.) If they had one day left to live, what would they do?

Write down all of their secrets, and all of their Megumi’s secrets, and every secret that they’ve ever had to keep. Then they’d burn the paper, so that they’d get the same feeling of release, but still be able to take those unintended truths to the grave.

16.) What makes the earth turn according to them: Money or love (or is it because when the earth was a gas cloud it started to spin and hasn’t quite grown out of that phase yet)?

If love wasn’t a factor, no money would be spent at all - after all, it’s money that builds cottages, churches, cribs and other such foundations for love, sturdier than any brick. But it’s also the love of money that can tear a family apart, the man pulling at the roots of man’s greed until it slices a finger, and rich soil comes out of the laceration.

17.) Knowledge, power or relationships: what’s the most important?

Counter-intuitively, they have a definite answer to this one and not to the above: power, if only because knowledge and relationships can be used to bolster it.

18.) Do they like animals? What’s their favourite?

Though they’re not a huge animal lover, they have a soft spot for mice and cats. Megumi once had a fancy mouse, a pink-eyed white Frizzie to be exact, and it doted on both twins.

19.) Any weird talents (besides their ultimate/shsl) that they’re secretly proud of (like rapping for example)?

No.

20.) Tell me a random story about them!

Yori is inordinately fond of the belt on their everyday outfit. It’s their favourite belt. Their Megumi got it for them for a birthday one year, before Yori became super famous with Megumi’s words behind them. It’s one part memory of when their love for their twin was unconditional, and one part reminder to make sure it stays at all.

21.) Do they have any illnesses or disabilities?

While being A rhesus-negative is not an illness per se, it will make things very difficult if they ever come down to a blood transfusion, since they can’t take Rh+ blood.

22.) Left handed or right handed?

Seeing as Megumi was left handed at birth, as a fraternal twin it lends itself to reason that Yori would be right handed.

23.) How would they react to being locked up in a school with no foreseeable time of leaving?

Since they’re getting locked up on an island with no foreseeable time of leaving, this question is a moot point, isn’t it?

24.) Will they miss their old high school? Why?

Weirdly, prior to getting the acceptance letter, Yori’s opinion on Hope’s Peak as an establishment was more neutral than worship. Sure, it can open doors for you, they’ve said in the past, but to make it outside you have to have the talent and connections to maintain that steady stream of success. It’s no good being an Ultimate Swimmer if you then don’t hone that swimming far beyond even the doors of the school, otherwise you will be outstripped by those below your skill level. And when your supposed talent is not really your own...

...They’re getting off topic. Of course they’ll miss their old high school, if only because it will hold nostalgia for them. Nostalgia is a blinding beast, a splash of paint and drainer fluid on the perception that erases what it needs to, and sometimes what it doesn’t as well.

25.) Do they like the outdoors? If so, what’s their favourite outdoor activity and any memories linked to that?

They’re neutral on the outdoors. It’s beneficial, but they wouldn’t spend all day out there. When they are out, they prefer sightseeing and people-watching to anything else.

26.) How important is their talent to them? Does it not mean much or would they die for it?

...Megumi’s talent means everything and nothing and more.

1.) What is the most important thing to them? (meaning a person or thing specifically i.e. friends/family)

And whether hated or loved, whether envied or dismissed, so does Megumi.

#futurecarrie #tosimornottosim #sjs interview

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sanctus-rp-blog · 7 years

Photo

George Weasley | 24 | Dumbledore’s Army

Bloodstatus: Pureblood

Wand: Dogwood, Unicorn hair, 12.5”

Career: Owner of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes

Patronus: Coyote

Boggart: Fred dying / Himself unable to move on

Previous House: Gryffindor

Aesthetics–

Sparklers, lounging on the roof, messy hair, bright-colored candy, scattered playing cards, over the shoulder hugs, pained laughter, tear-stained photographs, desperate hugs, sunlit rain, blanket fort.

Biography–

George was born into the warm and bustling Weasley family with his identical twin brother, Fred at his side. Since George can remember, Fred was more than a twin - he was his best friend. They did everything together - learned to walk, fly, play Quidditch, and pull practical jokes. They were rarely ever seen apart. Their identical looks and jokester personalities made them difficult to tell apart, and people often resorted to calling them “the Weasley twins” rather than by their individual names. George never minded this - in fact, he and Fred even assumed each other’s identities upon occasion, when it made for a good laugh or helped them to get out of trouble.

Throughout their time at Hogwarts, Fred and George got up to all sorts of mischief including sneaking around forbidden areas, discovering hidden tunnels, attending DA meetings and rebelling against Umbridge. As a final act of rebellion against Umbridge, Fred and George left Hogwarts a few weeks short of graduation and moved to London, where they opened the joke shop they’d spent years dreaming up.

About a year after opening Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, George was injured by Death Eaters while he was helping the Order of the Phoenix get Harry Potter to safety. George was hit by Sectumsempra, a curse invented by Severus Snape, which left him missing his left ear. Though the experience was painful, George was able to laugh it off and quickly go back to life as normal, though he was a bit more aware of what the Death Eaters were capable of.

In the months that followed, George went into hiding with Fred and occasionally appeared on Lee Jordan’s rebel radio broadcast, Potterwatch, under pseudonyms. Despite the growing danger, George never lost his optimism or humor with Fred at his side. While playing their part in the rebellion, the twins continued to cheer up their friends however they could, as well as developed new ideas for their joke shop.

It was no surprise that both George and Fred fought for Dumbledore’s Army in the Battle of Hogwarts. What came as a surprise to everyone was that George was the only twin to survive.

With Fred’s death, George’s world caved in. It felt like his soul had been ripped in half. He doesn’t know how he managed to keep going through the constant overwhelming grief of Fred’s absence. He felt it every day. Yet with great effort, and a lot of support from his friends and family, George returned to the joke shop and resumed business. Only instead of smiling and greeting customers, he spent most of his time locked away in his office, leaving his staff to take care of customers.

As days go by, George is more often seen in his shop front, laughing and smiling, joking with his staff. To someone who doesn’t know him well, it might appear as if the old George Weasley was back - he’s even pulled a few pranks and invented a line of new products. But he knows life will never the same without Fred, and he’s starting to accept that.

If life was difficult to face before, once George heard that the Death Eaters were being released, it felt nearly impossible. He was devastated by the news. He doesn’t want the world - or his family - to have to make any more sacrifices.

Personality–

Before the war, George was the life of the party. He went through life without a care in the world, trusting everything would work out as long as he and his twin put their minds to it. He was quick to joke around, but quicker to comfort and reassure. As the world grew darker and George became more aware of the peril they were in, he became more cautious, but never lost his sense of optimism, rebelliousness, or humor. He looked for the good in every situation and a way to improve the bad.

While George and Fred had very similar personalities, George was slightly more reserved and thoughtful. He was more inclined to offer advice, a helping hand, or - at the very least - inquire how someone was doing before he pranked them. Fred, on the other hand, often acted spontaneously and without warning. This meant he was usually acting first, and George was left to follow his lead. George had no problem with his twin brother taking the lead, even if it meant Fred was often the more popular twin, for George liked the safety of being second to act. It gave him enough time to analyze the situation before jumping in.

When Fred died, everything changed. George wasn’t prepared for the grief that followed and he was overwhelmed by it. He suddenly felt alone, uncertain, and devastated. He became more withdrawn and distracted. His grief paired with his nightmares often left him exhausted, with little energy to joke around or generate enthusiasm for his work. He found it harder to deal with everyday stress, and nearly impossible to gain the passion for life he once had.

In recent years, George’s regained enough of his former outgoing personality to be an excellent salesperson for Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes - he knows how to gain attention with a quick quip and then listen to his customers to determine which merchandise would best catch their eye - but when it comes to longer conversations, he often retreats inwards and becomes quiet and distant. In essence, he can get by. He can fool people into thinking that he’s the happy-go-lucky joke shop founder he once was. But inside, he’s still mourning Fred and the fun adventurous life they had together.

The most notable shift in personality is that George lacks the enthusiasm and energy he used to have - one moment, he might be genuinely laughing and joking around and the next he’ll be retreating from everyone with a tired look in his eyes. His temper that once had him attacking Malfoy for insulting his family now has him hurling a sarcastic mark or two and then deflating into melancholy. He no longer goes to many social events or large gatherings and spends most of his time locked in his office, working on logistics for his business.

The one thing that hasn’t changed is his compassion. He would drop anything to cheer up a friend or family member, and he would do anything to protect them.

Connections–

Lee Jordan - close friend Angelina Johnson - close friend Terence Higgs - quidditch rival Jimmy Peakes - sees potential in

GEORGE WEASLEY IS TAKEN AND PORTRAYED BY THE PHELPS TWINS.

#skeleton rp #lsrpg #harry potter rp #george weasley #oliver phelps #james phelps #takenda #taken #takenm

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