#there’s also the north end of town but i think that’s just exactly like the middle end but on a hill

[inkskinned]

the car broke down by the denny's where you used to work and therefore could never return to. i am trying to pick out the satisfying parts of my life, one-by-one, like i am 12 and in a frog dissection. everything in my life all viscera and formaldehyde. if i can sort the good things from the bad things, i will have a nice clean pile.

i call you and make it sound like i am happy and hangin' in there! when really i am kicking a rock and i am outside without a jacket and i am so in love with you it makes the little bones in my ear shake. someone called my tinnitus an angel choir. i like that it means i carry the echo of every concert.

this isn't the right setting for love. this is a roadside, and a denny's, and i am nauseous and ashamed i never escaped the town where i grew up. the clouds here are this strange yellow, like spilled sour milk. "someone once told me that the orange coating on the teeth of a beaver is due to the particularly high rate of iron in their enamel," i tell you. "the beaver is the largest rodent native to north america."

your voice is crackly on the other end. i'm going into a garage soon, i might lose you.

what i should be doing is calling the tow truck and explaining that my brother's car (that i'm borrowing) (that i broke now, i guess) needs to be lifted by another, bigger, stronger car (which is love too, i guess).

i shouldn't say so much. i should wait, and let you ask about my mom, and ask if i ever got over that cold, or how it's going at work. i should let you lead the conversation, for once, so the love doesn't leak out of me into the gravel. i open my mouth anyway. "if you had to choose between being a beaver with very few trees or being a tree around a bunch of beavers, which would it be?"

i don't know. your voice always has this warm cast to it when you talk to me, but maybe i am just imagining that - i am a poet, though, so i imagine things sort of chronically. through the static, you sound like you're laughing. are you the beaver?

i know, like, logically, not to fall in love with a girl-that-is-your-best-friend. like, who would i even call if we broke up? you're my best friend, you're the person i'd want to speak to. so what if these last few months we keep sleeping over at each other's houses, calling each other for hours, sending each other poems. so what if you keep wrapping your fingers into mine. no best friends. that is the first rule. what you are supposed to do in that situation is leave the situation.

but my car broke down, so. where exactly am i going to go? the car is a very-old chevvy and also where i almost-but-not-quite kissed you after you'd raised one shoulder and looked up at me and said i don't know, i think i'm straight, but for the right person - i'd try anything. the music had been good and it had been raining and your thick eyelashes had made me feel god crawling up my throat like a spider. and i didn't kiss you, because i am a coward.

anyway on the chevy the whole exhaust pipe fell out, and is now scraping on the ground like one silver finger stroking the back of the highway. recently we were watching netflix in my bed and you pushed my hair back from my face like you were making the slowest, most desperate prayer, and then your boyfriend called. i remember us both jumping. i couldn't look at you in the eyes for like a week after. i kept feeling the heat of your fingerprint; computer science, you'd unlocked something dark in me.

google says the closest tow (joe's pick up) is 50 minutes away and also closed permanently. so that's not great. you live in another state and i should be calling my insurance company. i should be calling anybody else. this is not helping. i need an uber. i need to get moving. instead i say: "i need three words for a poem."

yesterday i said love you, goodnight after our 2 hour call like always and then you just, like. paused. all i could hear was your breathing. and then you'd said what a pretty three-word poem. i love you too, sweet thing. the words made my tinnitus act up again, and i must have some kind of synesthesia, because the sound travelled into my mind until it became the shape wedding rings.

orange, you say. the static is now chewing through most of your words and i only catch - borrowing the chevy -

the call dies. i have 12% battery. i never get the 3rd word, but i know you're still going to get a poem from me. actually this rest stop is kind of pretty, and so is the exhaust pipe, and so is joe's pick up, and so are the clouds. the light here is the color of a glue trap. before you worked at the denny's, we used to get milkshakes every wednesday and called it a friend date. you said you'd wanted to work there because it reminded you of me.

the sign's gone dim. the letters now spell out deny. and isn't that something.

#spilled ink #ty nat #ps if anyone wants to send me money for a car. you'll never guess what happened :')

[teshamerkel]

Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Seekers of Soul

[Chapter 50]

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AO3 Link

-

Tobias and Nia take the ferry north to the guild, but the river might not be as peaceful as they would hope.

-

When Tobias wakes at sunrise, he has to take a few minutes to settle his thoughts. For once, they’re racing almost as soon as he’s conscious, still tangled up in all of the information Nia dumped on him after her impromptu talk with Giratina yesterday.

As if that situation wasn’t terrifying enough on its own.

No, she also had to come back from her little chat with news of the world ending. And somehow, Nia and Tobias are the ones put in charge of stopping it.

No pressure or anything.

Tobias knows they can’t just ignore it, though. If Giratina is telling the truth—and Tobias is still a bit iffy on that, but can’t find much reason for why he would lie about such a thing, either—then it needs to be fixed. It’s not something he’s willing to take a chance on.

At least they have a plan. Tobias isn’t looking forward to groveling to Will for the assistance Nia is convinced he can give, but he’ll feel better once he loops August and Alistair and some of the other guild ‘mon in on this. See what they know. Someone has to have an idea of where Xerneas’ resting place could be.

But before worrying about all of that, they need to actually make it back to the Lexym Guild. Even taking the ferry, it’ll probably be a couple of days until they reach home. They can think over how to bring all of this to light once they’re back.

Tobias sits up with a groan and goes about his usual process of rolling Nia out of bed. She whines in protest, but he manages to hurry them both out of the inn and into the heart of Shivergleam just as the first rays of dawn start to peek orange-bright through the foggy gray morning.

Shivergleam is strange to see in the light of day. Most Pokemon are either already asleep or heading to bed, and as they pass a grocery store Tobias sees a yawning gourgeist flip their OPEN sign to CLOSED. The ominous, twisted wooden structures around them suddenly look harmless. Almost like a town of whimsical treehouses, some distant cousin to his own home in the Lexym Tree.

Tobias leads Nia across creaky bridges (which are scarier in the day, when he can see just how far down the drop is to fog-capped swamp water) towards where he’s pretty sure the Aqua Jet had docked the night before. It’s not like it’s too big of a town, and Cordelia’s white and orange ferry stands out against the much more modest wooden canoes that the locals own.

The two of them hurry down the steps to the ferry, catching Beck just as he pulls himself out of the swamp. Water runs in rivulets through his thick orange fur and splatters onto the wood as he looks up.

“There you are! Perfect timing. Our other passenger just boarded so we’re ready to go.”

“Who’s the other passenger?” Nia asks.

Beck scratches at his chin. “A sableye. Some kind of researcher? He’s heading to the caves north of the Lexym Guild, near the foot of the mountains.”

Nia perks up at the word researcher. “I wonder if he’d tell us what he researches!”

“Not sure. He was a bit mumbly—real quiet guy.”

Tobias can handle quiet. They don’t need any shenanigans on their trip back north, especially considering they have to be on the water again. Not exactly any fire type’s favorite place to be.

“And they’re back!” A voice crows from up near the captain’s cabin. A blue and yellow maw leans out to peer down at them, teeth bared in an obnoxious grin. “Couldn’t stay away from the beautiful riverfront, could you, Charmander?”

Tobias curls his lip at her in return. While Nia waves and says hi, Tobias boards the ferry and moves to the back deck out of the croconaw’s line of sight.

It’s there he spots their new co-passenger: a spindly, dark purple ghost type with large, unnerving gemstone eyes. As in they literally look like cut gemstones. Creepy. The Pokemon is curled around a backpack and tucked up against the cabin of the ferry, half-hidden in shadows.

Tobias’ gut instinct after last night with Edme (and the general distance of the Shivergleam residents as a whole) is to be wary of their fellow passenger. Not that it would be likely for Edme to send someone after them for information about Giratina or revenge or something, but…

“Tobias, did you—“

Nia stops as she catches up, blinking as she notices the other passenger. It takes her a beat longer than usual, but she does step closer to give the ghost type a nervous smile.

“Hello! You must be the researcher Beck mentioned, right? I’m Nia and this is Tobias. I thought we should introduce ourselves since we’ll be traveling together for a few days!”

The sableye curls in a bit more at the greeting, but does quietly say, “H-Hello. Carnelian. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too!”

Carnelian gives a jerky nod. Not rude, but clearly anxious and maybe not used to socializing.

They take a few steps away to give him some space. As the crew finishes preparations, Nia looks to Tobias, probably waiting for him to head back down to the boiler room with Ignatius.

Tough luck. After last night he’s not letting his danger-prone partner out of sight quite yet. He waves her off, gesturing for her to sit wherever she’s planning to sit so he can figure out where he’s settling for the morning.

Nia frowns, catching on. “You can really go inside if you’d like.”

Tobias rolls his eyes and takes the initiative, plopping down against the ferry’s middle, as far as he can from Carnelian. “I’ll go in if I want to.”

Nia doesn’t look convinced, but she doesn’t argue as the ferry starts up. Tobias hears Beck and Nori leap overboard with a quiet splash. Ignatius must’ve already descended into the boiler room to get the steam engine running. Which only leaves—

Caspian comes plap plap plap-ing around the corner. The little quaxly is clearly full of energy despite the early hour. He waves happily to Nia and Tobias before scampering from one side of the deck to the other to make sure that everything is in place and properly tied down. Tobias still isn’t sure if the kid is actually responsible for that part of the routine, or if the crew just gave him a “job” to help him feel useful.

Regardless, as Nia and Tobias watch, Cas runs to and fro before deeming the ship worthy. He leans through the railing to wave down at the river, and Tobias hears a quiet splash as Beck swims around to the front of the ferry to give Cordelia the all-clear. Within a minute, they’re moving slowly across the swamp, through the narrow channel leading back to the Lilycap River.

In the light of day, the swampy environment just looks…peaceful. Inviting, even, if you don’t mind water.

Carnelian doesn’t seem too keen to chat, so Nia sighs and lays back across the deck. “…I should probably practice my aura.”

Tobias raises a brow. It’s not unusual for Nia to practice her aura abilities, but it is unusual for her to jump to that option immediately, especially this early in the morning. She must be thinking about what Giratina said. Tobias has the itch to train too, knowing what they’re up against.

“Aura?”

Cas has moved to their side. The quaxly tilts his head at Nia.

Nia sits up. “Oh. Um, it’s sort of like….a specific set of moves I can use as a riolu. Everyone has aura, but I can use it for attacks and sensing things and reading someone's energy.”

Cas’ brow furrows. “‘Reading?’ Like a book? How do you do that for energy?”

“Well…aura is sort of like each pers—each Pokemon’s, um. Life energy, I guess? And everyone’s is unique! Like a fingerprint. I can look at them and know more about someone’s character and personality.”

“Could you read mine?!” Cas asks, confusion dropping in exchange for sheer excitement.

Nia looks torn between amusement and discomfort. “I-I mean. I could? But it’s sort of…personal. I see a lot about who you are. Some Pokemon find it kind of…invasive.”

“I don’t mind!” Cas insists, plopping down and scooting closer with all the reckless excitement of the child he is. “Please? It sounds neat! And I’m not big enough to help out with anything else right now so I have time.”

After another moment of hesitation, Nia huffs a laugh. She relaxes and holds out a paw. “All right. Could I have your wing for a minute?”

Cas complies, and Nia closes her eyes. Bright blue energy outlines her body, and the appendages at either side of her head lift as she concentrates her aura.

Tobias watches this process with vague curiosity. While he’s been adamant from the start that Nia not read his aura, the process doesn’t seem quite as awful to him as it once did. Not if Nia’s the one looking at his soul, at least. He would still rather she not, a little uncomfortable with what she might find, but the thought doesn’t send anxiety rushing through him, either.

Plus, she already glimpsed it down in the mines. Red. He’s red, apparently. Whatever that means.

“You’re sort of a bright pinkish-purple,” Nia says. “Almost fuchsia.”

Cas, who had been nervously staring at Nia, perks up. “That sounds pretty!”

Nia smiles, eyes still closed. “It is pretty. It’s like…the reflected colors in a bubble. Fun and light. Or…coral? Supportive. Tougher than it looks.”

Caspian looks like he’s feeling self-conscious but isn’t sure if he should be. “So is fuchsia…good?”

Nia releases the quaxly’s wing and smiles. “Well, I sure like it!”

Caspian looks down, feathers fluffing with pleased embarrassment.

“A lot of water metaphors this time,” Tobias notes, amused.

Nia shrugs with a smile. "Just felt right."

“Is that because I'm a water type?" Cas asks. "Do all types have the same color aura?”

“No, as far as I can tell your type doesn’t actually matter,” Nia says. “I’m sort of a turquoise blue, but I’m a fighting type. And I know another water type who’s green.”

“Oh.” Cas looks up thoughtfully. “I wonder what color Delia is.”

Tobias snorts. He can’t imagine Cordelia feeling comfortable letting Nia look at her soul. She seems like the fiercely private type—not that he has any room to talk.

Nia shrugs. “Could be anything, really.”

Cas mulls that over, leaning to the side and trying to peer around the tall cabin of the ferry as if he could actually see Cordelia at the wheel, let alone into her soul.

“Your aura control is really solid now,” Tobias comments.

Nia's tail wags a bit. “Thank you! I still feel like I have a long way to go, but I’m getting better. I’ve been practicing a lot!”

Tobias knows, considering he’s been around for most of her practicing.

“You going to show Val the new aura radar trick you figured out in the mines?"

“Yeah! I just hope I can recreate it when I talk to her.”

Cas tunes back into the conversation, chirping, “So what all can you do with aura?”

Nia gives Tobias a wink before forming a short staff of aura and giving it a twirl.

Cas gasps. “That’s so cool!”

“You have any cool tricks?” Tobias asks the little water type.

“I can’t do anything like that, but Auntie has been working with me on a lot of other moves and stuff. Here, watch this!”

The quaxly hops to his feet and spurts a weak water gun attack out over the railing to splatter harmlessly into the river channel.

Nia claps, and Tobias makes a suitably impressed face.

“I don’t have much else, though. I’ve mostly been working on, uh, status moves,” Cas says, sitting down. “Auntie’s a primarina, so she’s really good with that sort of thing. And she says that I shouldn’t be in the middle of serious fights at my age anyways.”

“Status moves, huh,” Nia echoes, idly twisting her aura baton through her fingers.

Tobias knows that look. She must be thinking about which ones she could use herself. He nudges her. “You ever gonna try learning work up? It’s a normal type move.”

Nia’s eyes widen. “I forgot about that one! What does that do again? Raises attack, right?”

“And special attack.”

Nia’s brow furrows. “Great. So now all I have to do is just…learn it.”

“Is it a TM?” Cas asks.

Nia blinks, first at the water type and then at Tobias.

Tobias barely bites back a rude remark. “No, it’s not a trained move for you. Should be learned naturally.”

Cas turns a confused look onto Nia.

“I…have trouble learning new moves,” Nia explains, sheepish. “Learning moves naturally. It doesn’t come to me as easy as it should.”

“That’s all right!” Cas says, surprisingly genuine. “I struggle sometimes with the moves Auntie and Delia teach me, but eventually I figure ‘em out! Usually I just gotta figure out how to form ‘em.”

Nia tilts her head. “How to form them?”

“Yeah!” Cas nods. “Like how a water gun is all about focusing my power in my belly, where my water sac is, but for disarming voice I try to push my energy into my lungs and throat.”

“Oh! Right.” Nia watches Cas with a quiet intensity as the klinklang turn inside her head. “How…how would you try using a move like work up? Where your whole body gets stronger? I was thinking that I would just need to spread my aura—my energy throughout my body, but that doesn’t seem to work.”

Cas glances at Tobias, as if unsure of why Nia is looking to a twelve year old of all ‘mon for guidance. But then he speaks up, “Well…does it feel like you’re giving your muscles any kind of boost when you do that?”

Nia closes her eyes for a moment, as if testing it out, and frowns. “…No. it feels like it’s just leaving my body without doing anything.”

“Oh, I used to do something like that!” Cas says, clearly thrilled to be able to help. “It's probably ‘cause you’re just pushing your energy out, away from your body. Auntie said you just waste it when you do that.”

Nia groans, head landing in her paws. “Great.”

“She told me that instead of pushing your energy away from you, you have to, um…how’d she put it? You have to use your energy like a river.”

“A river?” Tobias asks, doubtful.

Cas nods. “Yeah! Like, channel your energy through your body in one big loop instead of outward, starting at your shoulders then down to your feet and back up. She said that keeping it moving is what makes the power.”

Nia’s eyes widen as she straightens up. “Like a water wheel. If the energy is the water, then keeping it in a constant river loop keeps it contained in your body—“

“Instead of just pushing it away from yourself and wasting it,” Tobias realizes.

Nia grins. “Of course! Oh, that makes so much sense. Thank you, Cas! I’ll try that.”

Cas fluffs again, happy but shy. Once Tobias asks him about his aunt who taught him that, he starts chattering again, clearly super proud of the primarina.

As he does, Tobias glances at their sableye travel-buddy, who is still hunched over in the shade of the boat’s middle. Then Tobias lets himself fall back to the warming deck and closes his eyes, pillowing his head with his arms to listen.

While he might not be fond of boat travel, there isn’t much else to do over the next couple days aside from plan and do what little training they can. Might as well chat with Cas and relax while they can.

—————————————————————————————————

Over the next day and a half, Tobias’ fear of leaving Nia alone dies down, allowing him to retreat to the warm isolation of the boiler room when the river starts to become too much. He still doesn’t stay with Ignatius as much as he did on their first trip, though.

He feels the need to keep an eye on Nia, worried about where her head is at. It’s just like the period after her illness, when she would space out and drown in her own thoughts. Sometimes Tobias catches a sheen of tears in her eyes too, like she’s just barely holding it together. Tobias doesn’t know if it’s the fear and pressure of the mission dropped onto their shoulders, or if she’s worried about being able to return to the human world.

Either way, he can tell that she’s…off.

Tobias doesn’t know how to ask her if she wants to talk about it. He feels hot embarrassment burn at his face and close his throat any time he considers it. Instead, he opts to just stay close.

Not that Tobias is much better, between his own fear regarding their world-saving mission and…well.

He’s thinking about Team Zenith again.

It starts with the crobat—Asra or Vesper or whatever his name was at the end. Tobias still hates him, still feels loathing sit cold and heavy like a ball of steel in his chest. He hates the crobat more now that he knows the coward got to live a happy life with his family after what he did to Tobias’ own.

Even if his mate was right and the crobat regretted what he was a part of. Even if Tobias recalls in scattered memories that the crobat didn’t do much more than corral them, he still didn’t stop Dismas or Sulien either. Instead, he let them kill Tobias’ family then ran away.

At least he’s dead now. Tobias should probably feel bad for the quiet satisfaction that thought brings, but he doesn’t.

Instead, Tobias thinks about Dismas and Sulien. The pangoro and arcanine presumably still out there, living their own lives. Do they regret it? Have they had their own families too? Tobias doesn’t remember much about the pangoro aside from flashes of black and white fur, snarling and grappling with his mother, before the arcanine pinned Tobias down and took up the entirety of his vision.

Tobias can only think of what happened to him in pieces before forcing himself to focus again on the world around him, digging his claws into the wood of the boat and looking out over the river. His heart pounds and a chill rises over his skin. He feels his head go light.

Funny enough, the end of the world is somehow a less terrifying thing to focus on. Tobias and Nia haven’t talked about it much since learning of it, seeing as they already have their vague plan and nothing to do until they get back to the Lexym Guild anyways. Tobias doesn’t think talking about it in circles would help.

So they both stay quiet.

Beck catches on quickly to their distracted thoughts and somber mood. The floatzel doesn’t ask, but Tobias notices how he checks in with them when he can, recruiting Cas to buoy the atmosphere. Beck talks to them about the river and the crew’s travels, clearly working hard at making Nia smile. Normally, Tobias would find something like that annoying, but Beck isn’t overbearing about it.

Tobias does find their sableye co-passenger—well. Not annoying, per se, but off-putting. He keeps entirely to himself, occasionally digging through his backpack to write in a little notebook, and Tobias can’t help how suspicious he is of what the little ‘mon writes so fervently.

The last time they trusted a ghost Nia got yanked into the distortion world against her will. Tobias doesn’t think anyone could blame him for a little caution. Well, anyone but Nia apparently. The third time she catches Tobias glancing warily at Carnelian, she pulls him aside to ask him what’s up.

“Weren’t you the one who said ghost types get unfairly discriminated against all the time?” She whispers.

“I’m not doing that!” Tobias hisses.

Nia gives him an unconvinced look.

“He’s just…weird.”

Nia huffs a laugh. “Just because he’s quiet doesn’t mean he’s weird. Maybe he’s anxious because he’s not used to being away from Shivergleam.”

Tobias sighs, rubbing at his face. Is he being suspicious for no good reason? Would he be less suspicious if the passenger was just as weird but not a ghost type?

…Probably, some small, ashamed part of him admits.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. “Just…on edge.”

“I get it.”

From that point on, Tobias does his best to just ignore the sableye lurking around the ship. Even when they stop to eat in the evening and the sableye mysteriously vanishes.

“Probably finding his own food,” Ignatius explains once he notices Tobias looking around.

“Ah, right. Sableye eat rocks or something, right?” Cordelia says through a mouthful of the stew they’d cooked up.

“Rocks?” Cas echoes, eyes wide.

“Gems,” Nori corrects quietly. “Crystals and minerals.”

“Eh, same difference,” Cordelia dismisses.

The second day of travel dawns as calm as the first. The river is still flooded, rushing by at unsettling speeds, frothy and impossible to see through, but Nori and Beck manage to navigate the rough waters with ease, and Cordelia’s hands are steady at the wheel.

Even the weather is decent. Slightly cloudy and overcast, but no longer pounding rain like it was on the way into Shivergleam. It’s even warm enough for the deck to heat under Tobias’ scales and lull him into a nap while Nia practices her aura.

It’s not until early afternoon that something goes amiss.

Their first sign of danger is Carnelian, scuttling to his feet and looking around. The little Pokemon is fidgety, but something about the abrupt gesture speaks of panic.

Tobias and Nia snap into ready positions themselves a moment after, looking around. Cas, who had been perched on a crate nearby and watching the river, looks nervously between the three of them.

“Carnelian?” Nia asks, quiet. “Did you notice something?”

Carnelian opens his mouth, only for an unfamiliar shout from the front of the boat to snag their attention. It’s more feminine than Beck’s deep voice, and it takes Tobias a moment to realize that it’s Nori. The golduck who has been nearly silent the entire time they’ve known her.

That can’t be good.

Nori is calling something up to Cordelia, who Tobias can vaguely hear cursing in the captain’s quarters. The boat swings suddenly to the side, as if trying to slow to a sudden stop. Nia and Tobias stumble and grab onto the railing, and Caspian falls into Tobias’ side. Carnelian yelps and goes sliding across the deck.

A second later, Tobias feels what Carnelian and Nori must’ve noticed first. A tingling against his skin, in his limbs. Something uncomfortable and off, hard to pin down but familiar enough by now.

A mystery dungeon.

Nia, probably still unable to sense it due to her fighting type nature, frowns at his paling face. “What?”

“Mystery dungeon,” he grits, trying to determine how close it is. If he can feel it in the air, it must be dangerously close.

Cordelia finally manages to ease the boat against the muddy bank of the riverside. It shudders to a stop, and everyone breathes a collective sigh of relief.

Cordelia leaves the cabin and rushes around the corner, eyes honing in on Caspian and relaxing once she catches sight of him. Then she glances around. “Everyone all right back here?”

They all nod. A moment later, Beck and Nori leap out of the river with a splash and thud on deck.

“Everyone okay?” Beck echoes. “Where’s Natius?”

Right on cue, the door to the inner cabin swings open and Ignatius stomps out on-deck. “By Moltres’ flames, what is going on out here?”

The crew relaxes seeing their last missing member in good shape.

“Got a bit too close to a mystery dungeon,” Cordelia sighs, rubbing a clawed hand down her snout. “Nori caught it in time.”

Tobias is glad she did. Even now the tingling is strong, still blaring alarms in the back of his mind that danger is nearby. Tobias looks at Nori. The golduck is staring out into the forest, ruby eyes narrowed.

“U-Um,” Carnelian pipes up, voice high and nervous. Everyone turns to him, surprised to hear the sableye speak.

He shrinks, but glances at Nori, claws twiddling anxiously. “M-Miss Nori, I could be incorrect, but do you still..?”

Nori’s beak flattens out into a grim expression. She nods. “Something’s wrong.”

Tobias exchanges an uneasy glance with Nia.

There’s a tense moment of silence, save for the loud rush of the river. Tobias’ heart pounds as he swears the tingling feeling gets stronger, somehow. His head feels fuzzy, which is strange. He didn’t hit it or anything.

Tobias sees the moment Nori figures it out. “The dungeon is still forming. Right on top of us.”

Oh. Oh no.

Cordelia, who had crouched to pick up Cas, stares at her crewmate.

“W-Wait—it’s still forming?” Nia asks, glancing out at the forest. “Here? Right now? But if that happens—“

“We’ll turn feral,” Ignatius sighs, sounding almost resigned. He puffs out a cloud of smoke. “No telling what’ll happen after that.”

Tobias feels his blood chill, goosebumps rising on his skin. Now that he knows what’s happening, he can consciously recognize how slow and clumsy his thoughts suddenly feel. Like his mind is trying to wade through thick, sticky sap. If the mystery dungeon forms on top of them, they’ll turn feral until it clears again, which could be weeks. And in the meantime they’ll be mindless beasts. If one of them gets hurt, then—

Cas whimpers, burying his head in Cordelia’s stomach. Everyone else looks quietly terrified, eyes down and hands balled into fists.

“C-Can’t we do something?” Nia presses. “Can we outrun it?”

Beck shakes his head. “‘Fraid not. I’ve heard musings, but…”

“Musings?” Tobias asks.

“Unsubstantiated musings,” Nori says.

“I don’t care if they’re substantiated or not!” Tobias snarls. “If you’ve got an idea then say it!”

“Safeguard,” Beck says. “Heard a rumor ‘bout it. But unless one of you has safeguard in your arsenal, we ain’t got no way to protect ourselves even if it would work.”

There's a heavy moment of silence. Then—

Nia’s head whips up. “Protect. Would protect work?”

The crew blinks slowly at Nia, as if trying to process her words. Tobias hears Carnelian let out a animalistic whine of fear.

Nori is the first one to shake out of it enough to speak. “I don’t—“

“Do it!” Tobias growls.

Nia throws out her paws, and her aura snaps into being around them, surrounding the group in a thin dome of blue energy. Immediately, Tobias feels his sluggish thoughts clear, like the first breath of fresh air after a stuffy nose. He realizes he’d been hunched over in a crouch, and straightens up.

Everyone else snaps out of the creeping effect of the dungeon too, standing taller as their eyes clear. Cordelia almost seems to be ashamed about succumbing to the effect, and focuses on murmuring reassurances to Cas. Beck lifts his chin to look up at the protect bubble in awe. Nori is rubbing her forehead, wincing, while Carnelian whimpers and cowers closer to Nia.

Ignatius simply says, “Huh. I’ll be.”

Tobias relates. He kind of can’t believe that worked. It’s…unheard of, to get firsthand experience from Seekers or researchers who were caught in a forming mystery dungeon and able to ward it off. He didn’t know it was possible for a move to save them from such a thing.

“It worked,” Tobias breathes, relieved.

“Why did it work?” Cordelia asks, frowning and looking to Nori. “And why haven’t I heard about these rumors?”

Nori, still rubbing tenderly at the red gem on her forehead, shrugs. “Beck and I heard a rumor earlier this year. About someone using safeguard and escaping from a forming mystery dungeon unscathed. We didn’t think it was true.”

Safeguard…so that means—

“You saying Pokemon going feral is nothin’ more than a status condition?” Cordelia asks, squinting.

Nori shakes her head. “It has to be more than that. But it might work in a…similar way. A form of confusion. If so, it makes some amount of sense that it could be stopped by a strong safeguard.”

“Or a strong protect, apparently,” Beck says. “We’re real lucky you were here, Nia.”

Nia smiles, but Tobias can see the beginning of strain in her expression, in the way she doesn’t respond. She used her protect in the mines at Fort Asra, but Tobias doesn’t think she’s ever made a shield this large. It’s going to drain her quickly, even if she has been practicing with her aura.

“However it worked, we've bought ourselves a few more minutes of sanity,” Tobias says. “But now what? We’re still stuck in the middle of it and Nia can’t keep this up forever.”

Nia’s mouth twists unhappily, but she doesn’t argue.

“Could we move the boat?” Cas suggests quietly.

Cordelia shakes her head. “‘Fraid not. We would need the whole crew at their stations for that, and we’d be too far apart to protect everyone.”

“C-Could we send a distress signal?” Carnelian pipes up, voice shaking. He glances at Tobias and Nia. “To the guild.”

Oh. Right. Tobias feels a little angry that he didn’t think of that himself. He hurriedly reaches into their satchel to grab one of their badges. Then he frowns.

“No go. Too far out.”

Carnelian shrinks back into himself.

“Okay,” Tobias says, running a hand back and over his head. Think, Tobias. They aren’t technically on a mission right now, but they are Seekers. It’s their duty to protect the crew and make sure they’re safe. And Nia is busy as is, so he has to take the lead.

“Moves,” he says. “Or items. Does anyone have anything that might help? Something to stop confusion or get us out of here. Safeguard, protect, uh…fly, teleport. An escape orb?”

“Aren’t you the Seeker?” Ignatius huffs. “You should have the items.”

Tobias shoots the torkoal a nasty look. “Any helpful suggestions?”

Each Pokemon grows quiet, then shakes their head. All except Cordelia, who is looking down at the top of Cas' feathery blue head with a furrow to her brow.

Tobias stares at her, expectant.

She glares back at him, but relents. “We…might have something.”

Then she detaches the teary quaxly from her front, kneeling down to meet his eyes.

“Hey, bro?”

Cas sniffs. “Yeah?”

“Do you remember that move Auntie’s been working on with you? The one with the pink misty stuff?”

Caspian’s brow furrows. He tilts his head. “Misty train?”

Cordelia chuckles, but it’s strained. “Misty terrain, yeah. Can you do me a favor? D’you think you could try to use that?”

Tobias frowns. Misty terrain? The move sounds vaguely familiar, but…

The aura shield around them flickers. Weakens and thins and grows more transparent for just a moment as Nia growls. Tobias, concerned, steps closer and presses his arm against hers.

“A big burst of it, yeah,” Cordelia says, encouraging. “Enough to fill this whole bubble!”

Caspian glances around at everyone’s eyes on him. “W-Would it help?”

“Honestly, bite? Not sure. But it might. And we gotta try something.”

Cas falls silent, looking down at his feet.

Tobias glances at Nori. “Misty terrain?”

The golduck hums, gaze flicking between Cordelia and Cas. “Similar to safeguard. If he can use it, then we might be safe while the dungeon finishes forming.”

Tobias tries not to cling to that hope. He doesn’t want to put that kind of pressure onto a kid. But as he watches, Cordelia braces her hands on Cas’ small shoulders and gives him a squeeze before stepping back.

“All right, Cas. Give it a go. Just like Auntie showed ya.”

Everyone stills as Cas close his eyes. After a moment, he bobs his head—one, two, three, four. His little webbed foot taps along to an unseen beat. Nia, at Tobias’ side, is breathing hard as she continues to hold the protect.

Then Cas starts a little dance, surprisingly rhythmic. His feet tap and arc across the wood, his wings twisting and turning. Before Tobias can question what the heck he’s doing, he spins.

A cloud of pink energy bursts out from him in a wave. Tobias throws up his arms, and when he lowers them the air in their little bubble is…sparkly, the wood beneath their feet tinted with a shifting pink fog.

“Did it work?” Nia asks, voice tight.

Caspian, panting, looks between Nori and Cordelia.

Nori says, “No way to tell.”

Tobias grows colder. “So we have to just…”

“Try it,” Beck sighs. “Well? Do we want to rip the bandage off quick?”

“Awful casual about it,” Tobias growls.

Beck shrugs, though Tobias catches the concerned look he gives Nia.

Tobias sighs.

“Nia,” He says. “Drop the protect.”

She cracks open an eye, unsure.

“You can’t keep this up forever. Either it worked or it didn’t.”

Nia is clearly uncomfortable with that sentiment, but Tobias can see the way her arms tremble. How her ears fight to pin back with the strain.

“Nia,” he says, sharper.

She lets go with a gasp. The blue around them vanishes, leaving the open air of the river and the forest on either side. As Nia pants, Tobias holds his own breath.

The pink mist plays across the ground around them in a circle. It doesn’t dissipate, hovering around their feet like a protective presence.

Tobias glances at the others and can see the same nervous caution on their faces. But as the seconds pass, Tobias counting each beat until one minute passes, then two…he doesn’t feel that same fuzzy confusion return to slow his thoughts like tar.

“Did it work?” Ignatius asks, hushed. “Or did the dungeon already finish forming?”

Nori shakes her head, pointing out into the trees.

Tobias follows her gesture, feeling his skin crawl. The forest looks…restless. Trees roll in waves as the landscape shifts. Like the earth below them is a great waking beast. Even the boat tilts and groans, as if it too is being pulled into the distortion of the mystery dungeon.

Loud, sharp cries echo from the forest: Pokemon who weren’t as lucky as them. Pokemon caught up in the dungeon's haze. Within their circle of pink mist, however, their minds seem untouched.

Everyone releases a collective breath.

Cordelia whoops, scooping Cas up and spinning him in a tight hug. She’s yelling about how she knew he could do it and that he kicks tail. The quaxly giggles, a little teary-eyed.

Tobias finally relaxes, sinking down to the deck next to Nia. She laughs, tired and relieved as she bumps her head into Tobias’ shoulder.

“G’job, little ember,” Ignatius says to Cas. Then he turns to Nori. “How long will this hold?”

“Long enough, hopefully,” Nori says. “Eventually the dungeon will settle. All we can do is sit and wait for it to finish.”

Since Nori is keeping a watchful eye on their environment, Tobias allows himself to take a moment to breathe. He can’t make himself relax entirely, but he can’t do much at the moment either. He looks around at their companions.

Ignatius and Cordelia are murmuring to each other quietly. Cas looks exhausted by his big burst of energy, and leans heavily against Cordelia so she can scritch at his feathers. Carnelian is curled into a nervous ball around his bag, plucking at the backpack's cloth with his claws. He has scooted closer to Nia, as if soothed by her presence. Beck seems to be lost in thought, until Tobias notices how the floatzel glances at the edge of their protective circle. Ah. Keeping an eye on the misty terrain, then. Good.

Nia, finally having caught her breath, turns to sit against Tobias. He leans back as well so they’re spine to spine and tries to reign in his nerves. They need to stay calm and hope that the dungeon finishes forming before Cas’ attack wears off. Then…he supposes they’ll need to fight their way out of the dungeon.

He and Nia need to be ready to lead them when that time comes. They’re young, but they likely still have the most experience with navigating through situations like this.

“Huh,” Nia says, almost too quiet to hear.

“What?”

“Oh. I was just thinking that it makes sense. What Nori said, about the dungeon causing something similar to confusion.”

“Why’s that?” Tobias asks, tilting his chin back to look at the side of her head.

“Well…” her voice lowers. “If what Giratina said is true, then the borders of the rift are made up of aura. Of…life energy. And moves also come from our own life energy, our own aura. So I guess it just makes sense to me that damage in the border could…confuse the world in the same way Pokemon get confused by like, a confuse ray or something.”

Tobias snorts, remembering what Nia told him after her last breakthrough with aura. “Avery is going to lose their mind when you tell them that.”

Nia laughs. “I know.”

The group starts up a quiet conversation while they wait for the dungeon to finish forming, everyone likely trying to avoid thinking too hard about whether or not Cas’ misty terrain will hold. Tobias eyes the changing surroundings as they talk.

The forest almost seems alive, closing in tighter and tighter to form the mystery dungeons' trademark “rooms” and “hallways.” The trees shift and twist, weaving together with loud cracks that make Carnelian, Cas and Nia flinch. Weedy grasses and muddy banks rise higher into sharp inclines, boxing them slowly into a long corridor. It’s unnerving to watch happen, as if some invisible giant is ignoring the laws of reality and molding the world around them, stretching trees out like putty and raising the earth like sandcastles.

Slowly, the movements settle. The open air of the wide river has been contained to something much smaller, partially blocking out the overcast sky. An uneasy quiet descends on the forest, and Tobias isn’t sure why it feels this unnatural until he hears Cas murmur something about the river.

That’s it. The loud roar of the river is just…gone.

“I believe it’s finished,” Nori finally says.

Everyone stands tall to try peering over the lip of the boat and into the corridor they’re now trapped in. The “walls” of the hallway are unnaturally steep banks of mud, smooth river stones, and long grasses, with tree roots twisted throughout here and there. Tobias thinks he can see rivulets of water trickling down them, and hears the gentle burble of running water that can’t compare to the roar of the river.

The rivulets bleed into the “floor” of the hallway, which is covered in a sheen of water, as if it has become its own modest stream. Tobias feels his heart drop at the sight and squints, trying to look past the bright reflection of the sky to see if the water is deep or just surface-level. He has no idea how they’re going to fight their way out if the dungeon is covered in deep water. Just walking through a floor of the stuff would burn Tobias’ feet raw.

Nori is the first one to move. She exchanges a look with Beck, then calmly walks out of the protective circle. Tobias' heart jumps. Cordelia makes a sound of alarm and darts after the golduck, but Beck steps in her path.

“Beck, if you don’t move that waterlogged orange pelt—“

“Someone has to test it, and Nori is the most sensitive of us to psychic fields. She knows what she’s doing.”

Cordelia’s eyes flick past him to Nori. She grits her teeth and watches the golduck take a few more steps to the railing of the boat before turning to look at them, crossing her arms to wait.

“Give her a few minutes,” Ignatius says. “If she feels fine after that, we should be safe to move.”

After a moment, Cordelia returns to Cas' side. But she keeps her eyes trained on the golduck to watch for any signs of her being affected.

Luckily, Nori calmly stays in place, looking out over the corridor. After a few minutes, she pushes off and walks back into the protective circle of the misty terrain.

“I believe it’s safe.”

“Clearly,” Cordelia snorts. Then her voice hardens. “Don’t do that again. Captain’s orders.”

Nori nods, as if she didn’t just deliberately make a decision knowing Cordelia would object.

Cordelia grunts. Then she turns to look around at the rest of her crew and their passengers. “Well, Cas and the riolu saved our tails, but we still gotta get out of here. We ready to fight?”

“We’re not going to fight unless we have to,” Tobias counters, crossing his arms. The crew members look at him, surprised.

“And what makes you think you’re calling the shots here, kid?”

“Because Nia and I are Seekers, remember? Unless you’re secretly dungeon divers yourselves, we’re the most familiar with navigating places like this.”

“You suggesting you two lead us through this mess?” Ignatius asks, incredulous.

Tobias nods.

“Can you fight?” Cordelia challenges.

Tobias rolls his eyes. “Of course we can fight. But we should avoid ferals when possible because we have a giant group and an unknowably deep dungeon—we have to conserve our energy where we can.”

“He has a point,” Nori says.

Beck's tails twist worriedly, like a propellor. “This is unfamiliar territory you two aren’t used to. You sure you're up to this?”

Tobias snorts. “Every dungeon is unfamiliar territory. You wouldn’t be any more used to it than we are.”

Beck frowns, conceding the point but not looking happy about it.

“I would like to keep an eye on Cas,” Cordelia admits. Then, more of an order than a question, “What’s your team rank?”

“U-Um. D, right?” Nia says, glancing at Tobias.

Tobias winces, then hurries to add, “We’ve only been Seekers for a couple of months.”

“Awful proud for such shiny new recruits,” Ignatius mutters.

Tobias opens his mouth to snap something at the torkoal, only for Nia to stop him with a gentle paw on his arm.

“I know we’re young,” Nia says. “And we haven't been doing this long. But we’ve already been through…a lot. We’re stronger than we look.”

“And we’re the Seekers,” Tobias stresses. “Even if you can battle, this is different than a spar between two sane Pokemon. Let us lead.”

“We can clear a path for you,” Nia adds. “If it turns out that we can’t handle it, you guys can step in.”

The air is still heavy with uncertainty.

Tobias is irked that this is suddenly an issue at all when they face dangerous missions every day, but he knows Nia’s calmer approach is more likely to prove their point about them being mature enough to handle this, so he keeps his mouth shut.

The crew exchange looks with one another. Nori seems to surprisingly be on their side. She stares her crew mates down, apparently firm in her decision. After a moment, Ignatius grumbles something about young startups, but backs down. Cordelia, after a long and wordless exchange of expressions with Nori, nods once.

Beck is the only adult crew member who hasn’t agreed.

“What? What’s the problem?”

The floatzel sighs. “…Nothing. Just getting old and letting my instincts as a dad win out over my instincts as a crewmate.”

Oh. He’s…worried about them? He shouldn’t be. They just got the fate of the world dumped on their shoulders. They can handle a little mystery dungeon.

“We can handle it, Beck,” Nia says, echoing his thoughts. Her voice is firm but not unkind. She gives him a smile. “I know you’re worried, but this is kind of our job.”

Glancing around and realizing that no one else shares his concerns, Beck caves. “All right. Just…let me know if you two need help, all right? These old bones can still fight if need be.”

“Deal!”

The group cautiously moves out of the protective effect of Cas’ circle and to the edge of the boat. Beck insists on going down first, “Just to check how deep it is,” before slipping overboard. Tobias frowns when Beck goes entirely underwater, confirming that the path is too deep to walk through. The floatzel surfaces, glancing around to make sure nothing is about to attack before waving up at them.

Cordelia smirks at Tobias. “You sure you still want to lead, flame?”

Tobias, on completely stupid impulse, glares at her before hopping over the edge of the boat. Beck barks a startled sound but manages to catch him on his chest.

Tobias pushes roughly at the paws on his arms. “Let me go! I’m fine.”

“You can’t be implying you’re going to swim through this.”

“I said we’ll lead and I meant it!”

Beck tightens his hold. Tobias could break free, but he doesn’t want to hurt the stupid old ‘mon.

“Just…let me give you a lift through the water,” Beck says, meeting Tobias’ eyes. “In return, I won’t fret about you two leading us.”

“Or you could just let me go and not fret anyways.”

Beck’s gives him a look that feels too fatherly to be comfortable. As if to say he has the patience to wait out Tobias’ stupidity.

Tobias growls. “…Fine.”

Beck releases him, and Tobias sits up on the floatzel’s stomach. The water type is long and flat, admittedly perfect for ferrying passengers.

Nori slips over the boat next, into the gentle current with a quiet splash. Then Cordelia and Cas. After that, Cordelia yells up at the boat until Ignatius stops hollering about dying on solid ground where sane fire types belong. Then the torkoal tumbles over the edge in his shell for Nori to catch and hike carefully onto her back.

Finally, Carnelian peers over the edge, shaking visibly even from here. Nia is clearly trying to soothe the sableye, but whatever she says must work, because he eventually hauls himself over the side of the boat with jerky movements. Nia climbs out after him, watching the sableye’s feet and murmuring reassurances.

Tobias rolls his eyes. “Nia, watch your own paws!”

It’s a clumsy effort, but the two of them manage to slide down the boat in fits and starts. Beck drifts closer and Tobias holds onto the boat so the floatzel can roll over onto his belly. Then all three of them climb atop his wet back—Tobias in front, with Nia and Carnelian behind.

“Everyone good?” Cordelia calls. She’s treading water easily, Cas perched on her back.

Irritation gnaws at Tobias as the croconaw takes charge, but he nods.

“Keep an eye out for ferals,” Cordelia adds. She swims forward to take the lead, but hesitates and glances at the quaxly over her shoulder, clearly not wanting him to be in the first line of defense.

Tobias takes their chance. He gives the thick orange fur below him two pats, before anyone else can try to take point. Beck hesitates, but eventually obeys, moving forward to lead the group down the corridor with a near-silent lap of water.

Aside from the gentle rush of the stream, the air is silent. It feels even more tense now that they’re in the dungeon proper.

Tobias leans back to murmur to Nia, “I’ll keep an eye on the water since I have sharper eyes. You take above.”

Nia nods.

Their group drifts down the corridor and around the corner. Halfway down the next hallway, the terrain slopes up to grassy, muddy land before dipping back into the water again. Looks like they’ll be traversing a dungeon of streams and islands.

Lovely.

When they reach land, Nia and Tobias slip off Beck's back to stand on their own feet. The ground underfoot is damp and sticky with mud between smooth river stones and long patches of lush grass. Tobias tries not to let his distaste with the damp environment show as he takes lead, Nia right behind him.

So far no ferals, but Tobias can see Nia’s ears twisting and turning to catch distant sounds out of the corner of his eye.

“What kind of Pokemon do you think we’ll run into here?” Nia whispers.

Beck answers from right behind them. “It’ll be the Pokemon who live near the river, right? So water types for sure. Otherwise, likely grass and bug. Normal. Some dark types.”

Tobias flicks his tail. Most of those types shouldn’t be an issue, but the water types could be a pain for him. He’ll have to watch out for them.

Once they reach the stream on the other side, the group wordlessly moves back into their previous formation. Tobias grudgingly climbs atop Beck’s back in front of Nia as they wait for Carnelian to scramble on behind them. The floatzel slips into the water, and Tobias hears Cordelia and Nori follow behind.

They don’t run into their first feral until they reach the next patch of land, luckily in the same room as the stairs. The staircase sits eerily in the corner of the room, cutting off into nothingness six or seven steps up. They’re made of wood like Cordelia’s boat, with chipping paint to match.

The feral standing in their way is a thwackey nearly twice their size. It screeches with blank white eyes when it sees them, then launches at their group with sharp fangs bared.

Tobias and Nia rush forward to intercept. Nia is faster, and ducks low to kick out a leg and topple the grass type into the dirt. Tobias takes the opportunity to engulf it in a cloud of embers. The thwackey screeches and skitters back on four legs.

Nia hesitates on her follow-up attack, probably caught up in her own head again. Not that Tobias can blame her this time—it’s hard to think that this thwackey was probably a regular Pokemon living their life just an hour ago, and now—

Not thinking about it.

The thwackey wipes embers out of its eyes and goes at Nia with fists swinging. Nia creates a staff of aura and blocks the attack with a grunt. Tobias takes the opening while it’s turned away to breathe a plume of fire onto his hands. Then he darts forward to slash at the thwackey’s back with heated claws. 1-2-3-4—

The thwackey cries out, stumbling. Before Nia and Tobias can attack again, the feral spins and crashes off through the foliage, down one of the dungeon's hallways.

Tobias huffs out a breath, snuffing his fire down to smoke. He glances at Nia to make sure she isn’t injured, then back at the rest of their crew.

Beck is blinking at them, halfway into a battle stance and clearly surprised. Cas' eyes are starry, and even Cordelia looks a bit impressed with them.

“Not bad,” the Croconaw says. “Guess you two are a bit tougher than you look.”

Tobias rolls his eyes despite the warmth spreading in his chest. “Yeah, yeah. Everyone just hold hands already so we can go to the next floor.”

Cordelia looks sour once he repeats the command and she realizes he’s serious. Only the explanation that they might lose each other warping to the next floor makes her acquiesce.

Tobias climbs the stairs first, Nia right behind him. When Tobias reaches the top creaky step, his stomach turns with vertigo and their surroundings shift. In a blink, they’ve warped to a location that is eerily similar but distinctly different in its layout.

Unfortunately, they also warp to a room that is almost entirely covered in water. Tobias lets out an embarrassing yelp as he falls under with a splash. The gentle current feels freezing against his hot skin, and the immediate wave of prickling pain knocks the breath from his lungs.

A strong arm scoops him up and out of the water before he can thrash for more than a second. In a whirl of movement, Tobias finds himself still drenched but out of the water. He cracks his eyes open, panting hard and shuddering through shocks of pain. His clenched hands hold onto thick, creamy fur.

“Tobias!” Nia coughs, seated atop Beck’s stomach as well and dripping audibly. “Are you all right?”

Tobias wipes his mouth with a shaky hand. Ugh. “Fantastic.”

Nia’s paw lands lightly on his shoulder, but even that touch feels overly sensitive and raw. He jerks away with a hiss and she whispers a string of apologies.

Tobias takes a moment to catch his breath and calm his pounding heart. As the water falls off his body, the painful burn on his skin starts to die down to a more manageable ache. Finally, he looks around.

Beck, lying on his back, is watching Tobias with concern. Nia, sitting next to him on the floatzel’s belly, wears a similar expression. Carnelian is shivering as far away as he can get on their makeshift raft, tipping his backpack to clear it of water.

Nori seems to have caught Ignatius before the torkoal could get similarly dunked. Cas is floating anxiously next to Cordelia in the water. Most everyone’s eyes are on Tobias, so he flushes and forces himself to sit up straight so he can look around.

They’re in a room filled with stream water, the surface finally calming down after their sudden entrance. Two hallways branch off on either side.

“Everyone all right?” Tobias rasps.

Cordelia arches a brow. “You’re asking us?”

Tobias takes that as affirmation and scowls down one hallway, then the other. There really isn’t any rhyme or reason to how he and Nia usually pick directions in dungeons, so he points Beck in the direction of the one he sees grasses poking out of farther down.

“We can wait here a moment for you to catch your breath,” Beck starts.

Tobias shakes his head. “We shouldn’t. It’s best to keep moving in a dungeon or we might get ambushed. I’m fine. Go.”

Beck’s gaze flicks to Nia. The riolu looks like she wants to agree with Beck, but Tobias gives her a hard look so she doesn’t argue.

Finally, Beck swims down the pointed direction. Cordelia and Nori follow quietly behind. When they reach land, Tobias gratefully stumbles onto the marshy ground. His limbs are still a bit shaky and his skin feels tight and uncomfortable, but he’s fine all in all.

A rustle ahead is their only warning before a new, bipedal green Pokemon shambles out of the grass, something oddly rhythmic to its steps. The lilypad atop its head and its bright pink beak tip Tobias off.

“Lombre,” he hisses, he and Nia moving into defensive stances. “Water and grass type.”

The lombre chitters aggressively when it sees them with its milky eyes. It lunges. Nia meets it head-on with a burst of aura, then dances out of range.

The lombre turns on Tobias and sucks in a breath, clearly about to spit out a water type move. Tobias braces to dodge.

They're interrupted by the sound of crashing water, and then a bright blue streak slams into the lombre and sends it rolling into the tall grass. Tobias blinks, stunned, as blue water splatters to the ground and Beck cuts off his aqua jet attack to land on four paws.

Beck glances at Tobias and opens his mouth to say something, but he's cut off by a bright green ball of energy as it shoots from the safety of the grass and hits him hard. The floatzel stumbles back into the wall of the dungeon, then slides down to the ground.

“Beck!” Nia calls, distraught.

Nori is already moving to Beck’s side, so Tobias decides she can handle that. He focuses back on the fight with the lombre, only to hear a startled squeak from behind him, near the back of their group.

He looks just in time to see a blue Pokemon—a tirtouga?—spitting attacks at Cordelia and Cas. Cas hides behind Cordelia as she turns on the tirtouga with a snarl.

“I got ‘em!” Nia shouts, using quick attack to flash past Tobias. She leaps out over the water, staff arcing high over her head, and Tobias has a good feeling she’s going to hit her mark.

Tobias turns back to his own fight as a water gun shoots from the grass, narrowly missing him. He growls. If his opponent is hiding, he should just burn the feral's cover to the ground. But lombre are half water type and the grass is probably too wet to catch, so—

Dragon rage it is.

Tobias sucks in a lungful of air and releases it in a stream of purple fire. The flames catch on the damp grass much easier than regular fire would, quickly scaring the lombre out.

Tobias takes his shot amidst the feral’s panic and shoots off another dragon rage. The lombre shrieks under the fresh onslaught. Tobias rushes forward and spins, slamming the feral into the dungeon wall with his tail.

Tobias pants in the ensuing quiet, watching the lombre for a moment to be sure it’s down. Then he looks behind him.

Nia is paddling through the stream back towards land, waterlogged but no worse for wear. Cordelia pulls her out. The little quaxly in her arms is clearly spooked but seems unharmed.

Nia hurries immediately to Beck’s side, kneeling across from Nori. “Is he all right?”

The floatzel groans at the sound of her voice, eyes fluttering open. His gaze is bleary and unfocused.

“Beck?” Nia prompts.

The floatzel closes his eyes, scrunching up his snout. “‘M fine, Hazel. Stop worrying. Where’re the kids?”

Nia stills. She stares at Beck with a stunned expression. “H-Hazel?”

“His mate,”  Nori says, watching the way Beck is blinking back to reality. “I suppose you do sound a bit like her.”

“His mate,” Nia murmurs, frowning. Tobias can tell that this info means something to her. The name Hazel is actually tickling something in the back of his mind, too, though he can't quite pin it down.

Cas escapes Cordelia’s protective hold and scampers to Beck’s side. “Are you okay, Beck?”

Something about the quaxly’s voice seems to clear Beck's mind. The floatzel shakes his head and slowly props himself up on his arms. He gives Cas a shaky smile. "I’m fine, dewdrop.”

“I’ll decide if you’re fine,” Nori says, pushing Beck back down with a webbed hand against his chest. “Follow my finger.”

Beck sighs but patiently follows her instructions as she checks for a concussion. Once she deems him safe to move, Beck climbs to his feet with a groan, using the shifting wall of mud and grasses to stand.

Good. He’s up. That means Tobias can chew him out.

“Beck.”

“Yeah?”

“What was that?!” Tobias snaps. “I told you to stay back and let us handle the fighting!”

Beck winces. “I…was worried about you facing a water type. Especially right after falling in.”

Tobias jerks an angry thumb over his shoulder.

Beck follows the gesture. Smoke is rising from the ashes of the large patch of grass Tobias just burned, purple embers still sparkling. The lombre is knocked out cold to the side.

“Riolu one-hit KO’d a tirtouga, too,” Cordelia laughs, glancing over her own shoulder to the water.

Beck blinks, then barks a laugh. “Well. Suppose I look a bit foolish right now.”

“…What.”

“You two said you could handle yourselves, and it looks like you were right. Sorry for doubting you.”

Nia beams. “That's all right! I know we’re not, uh...all that intimidating.”

"Speak for yourself," Tobias grumbles, rubbing at his face. Unsatisfied anger burns in his belly as all the wind leaves his sails. It doesn’t feel right to go on a tirade if the floatzel just…immediately apologizes. “Whatever. Just…don’t do it again.”

“Not planning to. That knock to the noggin hurt.”

“We should rethink how we travel,” Nori says, her quiet voice heavy enough to cut through their conversation. “If we continue this way, we have to worry about the back half of the group getting ambushed.”

“Yeah,” Nia agrees, frowning.

Tobias and Nia haven’t really taken many escort missions through dungeons—and especially not with a group this large—so they didn’t think about it beforehand, but…

“You’re right. We need a better formation,” Tobias says, crossing his arms. “Who here has experience fighting? Actual fighting, not just friendly spars.”

Nia, ridiculously, raises her paw. Tobias gives her a dry look until she lowers it again.

Cordelia snorts. “I can fight if I have to, but my first priority is keeping an eye on Cas and my crew.”

Tobias nods. “That works. Cas will stay in the middle of the group, so stick with him.”

Cas pouts but doesn’t argue.

“Nori and I are in decent shape, but we aren’t used to fighting often,” Beck says. “As you just saw.”

Ignatius puffs a wisp of smoke. “Hate to say it, but I’m probably as weak as Cas at my age.”

Tobias nods, looking between everyone and calculating. With Nia’s abysmal sense of direction, Tobias needs to be in the front of the group to direct them. But they do need someone to watch their backs, too, and Tobias trusts no one else but Nia for that. The most vulnerable members should be sandwiched in the middle when possible.

“In that case, I’ll take point. Nia, you take back. Cas, Cordelia, Ignatius and, uh…Carnelian. You all need to be in the middle. Beck and Nori, you flank me and Nia.”

“And when we’re in the water?” Beck asks.

Tobias hesitates.

“Well, we can’t do the same formation in the water,” Nia says, half to herself. She jumps when she realizes all eyes have turned to her. “C-Could we swap?  Have Ignatius rides with Tobias and Beck up front and Carnelian and I go to the back with Nori? That way we don’t have to rearrange much when we get to land.”

To Tobias’ surprise, no one questions the idea, seeming to agree with both of their judgment calls.

After checking that Beck is good to go, they form up. Nia takes the rear, giving Tobias a thumbs-up. Nori moves in front of her with a quiet comment that makes her smile. Carnelian shuffles nervously in front of them, clutching his backpack close. Then it’s Cordelia, the croconaw keeping little Cas right in front of her, then Ignatius. Finally, Beck stands right behind Tobias, the floatzel acting as a taller lookout. He gives him a nod, all his previous uncertainty with Tobias’ abilities seemingly gone.

Huh. Tobias feels kind of proud about how well that went. He’s still uneasy about how large of a group they’re leading through, but they’ll just have to try their best and hope they make it out with minimal injuries.

“All right,” Tobias says, trying to sound more confident than he feels. “Let’s go.”

#pmd #pokemon mystery dungeon #pokemon #pmd seekers of soul #golduck #croconaw #quaxly #charmander #riolu #floatzel #torkoal #sableye #tesha draws #tesha writes

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

North To The Future [Chapter 10: Scar Tissue]

The year is 1999. You are just beginning your veterinary practice in Juneau, Alaska. Aegon is a mysterious, troubled newcomer to town. You kind of hate him. You are also kind of obsessed with him. Falling for him might legitimately ruin your life…but can you help it? Oh, and there’s a serial killer on the loose known only as the Ice Fisher.

Chapter warnings: Language, alcoholism, addiction, murder, discussions of sex, and you don’t get any plot hints this time you just have to read and suffer and yes there will be ANGSTTTTT!!!!

Word count: 6.2k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

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You’ve counted the scars on his chest until you know them by heart. There are twelve exactly, which feels significant; it’s the last week of the twelfth month of 1999, it’s the end, it’s the beginning. You read them with your eyes and your fingertips and your lips, these knots of corporal memory that form a constellation, not the shape of a hero—Hercules, Orion, Perseus, Achilles—but the footprints of ghosts.

The Juneau magnet has joined the rest of his collection, places he blew into like a storm and then abandoned, wreckage in his wake, downed trees and snapped powerlines and shingles ripped from roofs, finally at peace in his absence and yet somehow less. There is a jar on top of the refrigerator that already has your half of the money for the San Diego trip squirreled away in it. Aegon puts in a little at a time—a quarter here, a five-dollar bill there—and yet there’s never any doubt that he’s committed to it. It’s the same way he is with you. There are no grand gestures, no expensive gifts or intoxicating declarations. There are only small, feather-light moments as faint as the lines in your palm. You could stack up a million of them and they would never feel heavy. They would never feel like a cage.

Aegon is an open door, and together you are a dream: whispers and guitar strings, tangled sheets and refracted light, snow falling soundlessly beyond frosted windows, fog so thick it erases the stars.

~~~~~~~~~~

“How dare you,” Heather says when you enter Caribou Crossings. It’s Wednesday, December 29th. She’s sitting cross-legged on the floor and surrounded by boxes, an island in a sea of Juneau-themed souvenirs. “You float in here on a cloud while I’m sad, single, all alone in the world except for these hideous snow globes.” She holds one aloft for emphasis. “Why would anyone want a snow globe with a salmon in it? A salmon?”

You smile. You smile a lot these days. “Tragic.”

“No pets in need of your medical expertise?”

“Not really. Ms. Larson’s box turtle had a shell fracture, but now I’m free until 2:30.”

“How’s the making Cobainbies going?”

“No babies,” you insist. “Not of any variety.” Aegon as a father, as a husband? The prospect is horrifying. When you’re reminded of this—of the impossibility of a future beyond the next three months—you try to bury it like…well, like a body in a lake; each time it surfaces, you tie another stone around its ankle and sink it back down into the darkness.

“Is that what cracked Trent’s already less-than-impressive brain? You and Aegon?”

“Trent doesn’t know about Aegon. He just thinks we’re taking things slow. Honestly, I tried to break up with him about a week ago and…he got scary.”

Heather puts down the salmon snow globe and looks at you. “What did he do?”

“The same thing he did at the bar the other night. He was like…aggressive. Intimidating. But also apologetic and oblivious. It’s really disorienting. It’s hard for me to figure out if he’s…” What’s the right word? Dangerous. But you’re not sure if you can say that to Heather. “Seriously angry. I don’t want him to go all Stone Cold Steve Austin on Aegon.” Or me.

“That moron,” Heather sighs. “I’m so sorry. I’ll talk to him.”

“Uh, don’t do that.”

“No, it’s fine, I know how to put it in a way he’ll understand.” She stands, hands on her hips. “It’s just…you know…when Trent played football, if he was bored or pissed off he could run around and tackle people and knock them unconscious, and that’s how he learned to deal with things. And now he doesn’t have that anymore. He’s got friends and hobbies and a job, but I don’t think he knows what comes next. That happens to everyone, right? We all wake up one day and realize we’re adults and we’re supposed to have life figured out but we just…don’t. Trent’s a dumbass, and he needs to leave you alone if that’s what you want, and I’ll make it happen. But I don’t think he would ever intentionally hurt somebody.”

“I hope not,” you say softly.

Heather smirks. “So, are you enjoying all the super kinky sex with that Greek boy? Has he bent you into a pretzel fifty different ways? Has he dislocated your hips yet?”

“It’s not really like that,” you tell her. “It’s intense, but it’s…I don’t know. Different.”

The truth dawns on her, sunlight sparkling on waves. “When he leaves, you want to go with him.”

“Yes, but I can’t.”

“Why not? They need vets everywhere.”

“There’s more to it than that.”

“Look, obviously I don’t want you to leave. I’d be freaking heartbroken. Those four years of vet school were bad enough, and I always knew you were coming back. But if you feel like there’s something else out there that you need to experience…” She gestures vaguely, meaning the world beyond Juneau. “I would want you to have that chance. And then maybe you could end up back here one day knowing that this is really what you need after all.”

You shake your head, watching flurries wheel through the frigid wind outside. “My parents would be devastated. I don’t have any siblings, there’s nobody else, there’s just me. And Aegon…” He’s been running for six years and he’ll never stop. “He’s not the type to settle down.”

“Maybe he’ll get the whole alcoholic homeless rockstar thing out of his system and be totally normal by the time he hits thirty,” Heather says hopefully.

You can see it in a flash too sudden to hide from yourself: a house by the beach, white-blond children chasing Sunfyre around the backyard, golden-sun days and hot chocolate at night, cooking in the kitchen together like your parents always do. Aegon wouldn’t even have to work. I could still be a vet and he could take care of the kids and perform in some local rock band once or twice a week...and we could all be happy. You can’t believe that—not for more than a few reckless seconds, anyway—but you need to kill this conversation before it kills you. “Sure, maybe.”

“We should do something fun,” Heather pivots cheerfully. “While Aegon’s still here. While you both are. It’s the start of a new millennium, bitch! If we were characters on Friends or Buffy or whatever, we would be doing something fun and glamorous. We wouldn’t be sitting here in grandma sweaters surrounded by boxes of salmon snow globes.”

You laugh, although you are admittedly partial to grandma sweaters. “What do you want, a New Year’s Eve party? Flutes of champagne, glitter and fireworks? People making out at midnight?”

She grins. “That’s exactly what I want.”

“I could probably make that happen, actually,” you realize. “My parents keep bringing up the idea of having people over. They love any excuse to ply guests with food and rock music. I said I just wanted to watch ABC 2000 Today with them and Aegon.”

“Great! You can still watch ABC 2000 Today, just with thirty of your closest friends.”

“You are well aware that I possess, at the absolute maximum, like four friends.”

“Everyone is friends with everyone on New Year’s Eve. And guess what?”

“What?”

Heather’s face is determined, insolent, fierce. “We’re not going to invite Trent.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“New Year’s Eve?” Aegon echoes doubtfully. You’re curled up on the couch together watching the X-Files, Sunfyre sprawled across your lap, your head on Aegon’s bare chest; he has one hand in your hair, the other holding a rum and Coke. He doses himself with it like morphine, but he is far from drunk. He’s seemed better since he almost drowned. You wonder if it reminded him that alive is something he enjoys being.

“Yeah. My parents are so excited about it. They’re trying to plan a menu, but my dad has literally fifteen different appetizers he wants to make.”

“Sounds like he’s handling retirement well.”

“He likes to stay busy.” You sit up to look at Aegon. The light of the television flickers on his face, but his eyes are glassy and far away. As far as Miami? As far as six years ago? “So? What do you think?”

“About what?”

“The New Year’s Eve party, obviously.”

He shrugs, sips his rum and Coke, licks his lips slowly. Then he comes back to you, a moon growing full again after starving away. “Totally, Appletini. Let’s do it.”

“Yay!” You are shocked by your own enthusiasm; it’s very unlike you. Sunfyre’s tail thumps against the couch in approval. You turn Aegon’s face and kiss him, feeling the strange barely-there smile of his lips on yours. “And Trent won’t even be there, so we don’t have to be subtle about anything. We can hang out together, dance, cuddle, feed each other Swedish meatballs on cute little toothpicks…”

“Sneak up to your bedroom while everyone else is busy watching the countdown in Times Square…”

You giggle, settling against Aegon’s chest again, nestling into him. He’s warm and pliable and fits with you like the interwoven opalescent threads of the Northern Lights. His free hand pulls you closer; the ice cubes in his glass clink. The jar on top of the refrigerator gets fuller each day. “Everything is falling into place. Everything is going to be perfect.”

“Perfect,” Aegon agrees; but you can hear that he’s far away again.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Bitch,” Heather gasps when she sees you, awed and incredulous. She’s carrying a massive tray of miniature quiches: smoked salmon, ham and cheddar, crab and tomato. “Bitchhhhh!”

You’re wearing a red dress you bought for a winter formal during vet school and haven’t touched since. You went with a sweet soulful boy from Iowa who you felt absolutely nothing for. He would have made a good husband, you realize now; he would have come home every night and helped the kids with their math homework and spent his weekends fixing fences and grilling steaks. You wonder if people like that are born without any darkness in them, or if they just learn to drain it from their veins like poisoned blood. You wonder if there is some reservoir of malignant self-destruction in everyone just waiting to breach the levees. “I look okay?”

“You look delicious. You look sinfully slutty. I wish I was into women, that’s how good you look.”

“Thanks, Heather.” You have lingerie on to match. You’re red all the way down: satin, lace, blood. You’re even wearing strappy crimson heels. It’s something you can’t stop thinking about: Aegon slipping every layer off of you later. You take the tray of quiches and beckon Heather inside.

The house is decorated—to a truly excessive degree—with balloons, banners, and confetti. Welcome, 2000! one banner reads. We hope the Y2K bug doesn’t destroy civilization! Your mom and dad are frenetically readying appetizers in the kitchen. When they finish each dish, you bring it out to the dining room table: deviled eggs, crab dip and toast points, ham salad sandwiches, stuffed jalapeno peppers, chicken liver mousse crostini, reindeer sausages, bacon-wrapped scallops, Swedish meatballs, homemade Rice Krispies Treats, Tongass Forest Cookies, a towering Baked Alaska. There are chilled bottles of wine, beer, and champagne, beads of condensation snaking down the glass. The ABC 2000 Today special is on tv, but guests are only half-watching. Your dad’s newest Red Hot Chili Peppers album is spinning on the record player; to you, their songs sound like California, or at least what you imagine California to be. The plucky guitar notes of Scar Tissue tiptoe through the house like footsteps in sand.

There are people in the dining room, people in the living room, people huddled in their parkas and smoking cigarettes around the crackling firepit in the backyard. They’re talking about 2000, of course, and the presidential election next year, and the Olympics, and the internet, and their own mundane tribulations: knee replacements, gallbladder removals, hyperactive grandchildren, marriages and divorces. But they’re talking about the Ice Fisher too.

“Who do you think it could be?” you hear Dale asking some of his bowling league buddies on the other side of the living room. They’re all broad, bearded men in flannel and jeans, guzzling beers and weather-beaten by their work as fishermen, loggers, oil riggers. “Ex-military? Some drifter? Someone just not right in the head? You know, I saw this 60 Minutes episode about a brain disease—what was it called, Earl? CTZ? CTE?—and athletes can get it from having concussions all the time. Boxers and football players and such. You think something like that could make someone violent…?”

Heather is working her way through a gargantuan portion of crab dip. Kimmie and Brad are practically mounting each other on your parents’ couch. Beside them, Joyce is grimacing as she tries to lose herself in a fantast novel with a mostly-naked cowboy on the front cover. She only smiles when Rob brings her a plate of appetizers. You’re on your third glass of bubbly, festive champagne. You keep glancing at the front door.

“They have to catch him soon, right?” Kimmie says in between sloppy kisses: loud smacking noises, lots of tongue. “I mean, he’s killed five people. Five! That’s so many!”

Joyce flips a page. “The police called in the FBI. That’s got to lead to a breakthrough soon.”

“I hope so.” Kimmie shudders. “It’s constant now…I worry when I go out to check the mail, when I put gas in my Land Cruiser, when I’m carrying groceries into the house…I feel like he could be anywhere. Like he’s lurking in every shadowy corner just waiting to grab me.”

“I think you’re safe,” Rob says with a smirk, amused but grim. “No one who goes to Ursa Minor gets killed. Have you guys noticed that? None of the victims had ever been to the bar as far as I know. The Ice Fisher must do his stalking in a different part of town.”

“Weird coincidence,” Joyce mutters.

“Guess I need to start going to Ursa Minor,” Brad says, grinning. “I could use some good luck.” Kimmie squeals with laughter as he paws at her, greedy and frivolous. You think: Please don’t leave body fluids on the couch, please don’t leave body fluids on the couch, please don’t leave body fluids on the couch…

“Why are the Bee Gees on tv?” Heather complains. “Who wanted that?”

Kimmie asks you: “Can Brad and I borrow your bedroom?”

“No, Kimmie.”

“Not the bed. Just the room. We’ll put a towel down on the floor.”

“Boundaries, Kimmie,” you plead.

“Fine,” she relents, sulking. Kimmie is wearing a glittery white dress and looks very, very young; her eyes are large and blameless, and her hair is secured in two voluminous pigtails. There’s a rhinestone crown on her head that reads Happy New Year! “Is Aegon on his way?”

“Oh yeah, he’ll be here any minute.” You steal another glimpse of the front door, but there are no consequent knocks. You check the clock on the wall. 10:30 p.m.

“He’s driving?” Heather says around a mouthful of crab dip, thin eyebrows raised. “He never drives.” Because he’s always drinking, she kindly leaves out.

“He told me he wanted to this morning. He’s been picking up extra shifts at work on whatever boats need another man. Holiday pay is double and we’re saving up for a trip to San Diego, you know.” There are polite—skeptical? pitying?—murmurs of agreement. “He didn’t know when he would get off, so he said I should focus on preparing for the party here and he would head over as soon as he had time to shower and walk Sunfyre. Anyway, he was on a boat all day and I was here helping to make deviled eggs until my hands felt like they were going to fall off.”

“Huh. I hope he’s not passed out in a ditch somewhere.”

“He’s not,” you say, a little more harshly than you mean to. He’s been getting better.

There is a knock at the door, and the closest person—Mark Morehouse from the pawn shop—opens it. It’s not Aegon. It’s Trent. He’s carrying a cheesecake the size of a Pekingese.

“Oh no,” Heather breathes. Kimmie, Joyce, and Rob frown down at their drinks.

“Hey, Trent!” Brad says, blithely unaware of the shift in mood.

Trent, wearing a very stately black button-up shirt, matching blazer, and khaki pants, looks around the room. He sees you, mouths wow, and then gives a tentative wave. He doesn’t come anywhere close to you. He puts his cheesecake on the dining room table and then goes to join Gary and Matt by the record player. Your mom and dad soon appear to greet him, resting their hands on his massive shoulders, asking about how his parents are doing and whether he’s had any luck with the Forest Service. Trent tells them that he finally got an interview that’s scheduled for next week. They reply with congratulations, casting you furtive, appraising glances. Did you invite him? Their eyes say. Do you want him here?

“Do you want me to get rid of him?” Heather asks you. “I didn’t tell him about the party, I swear. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Of course she wouldn’t; but Juneau is too small for secrets, that feels more true every day. Heather didn’t need to tell Trent, and neither did your parents. Maybe he heard about it through Matt or Gary, or he eavesdropped on a conversation in the Foodland, or someone mentioned it to his parents and they suggested he go without knowing he wasn’t supposed to be in attendance. However it happened doesn’t matter. The damage is done.

Heather’s question reverberates in your skull. Do you want me to get rid of him? “No,” you say. “Not yet, anyway. I don’t want to cause a scene in front of everyone.” Everyone but Aegon, you think, and you wouldn’t call yourself concerned yet but you are growing annoyed, little by little like how a clock ticks towards a new hour.

Joyce sniffs. “Hopefully he stays over there.”

And Trent does keep his distance. Now Dale is congratulating him about his interview. “That’s a great sign, Trent, a really great sign! Getting your foot in the door is the hardest part. I’ll call over and put in a good word for you. I still have a bunch of stuff from when I worked as a park ranger…boots, compasses, trekking poles, snowshoes…I’ll bring a box over for you.”

“Aw, Dale!” Trent appears to be genuinely touched. “Thanks, bro! You’re the best!”

“Sorry, what’s wrong with Trent?” Brad asks, brow crinkled, one arm slung around Kimmie. “Did I miss something?”

“He’s just a little obsessed with our gorgeous crimson hostess,” Heather explains, gesturing to you. “Obsessed in a pushy, idiotic, not-flattering way.”

Rob adds: “And he occasionally turns into the Hulk.”

“Maybe Trent’s the Ice Fisher,” Brad whispers conspiratorially, and then bursts out laughing. Everyone joins him except you. You can’t really blame them. Trent is a local hero: a football star, a reliable employee, the son of a normal and respected family, the wearer of his mane of lustrous hair, the object of countless women’s affection, the man who dragged Aegon out of the channel when he nearly drowned. A few mutilated Taco Bell tables aren’t going to change that. An occasional verbal outburst—and from a former athlete no less, fiery and forceful by necessity and thus swiftly forgiven, like a champion thoroughbred prone to biting—isn’t going to change that.

But they haven’t seen everything I have. They haven’t felt it.

You stand. “I’m going to go call Aegon.”

Upstairs in your bedroom, you assess your reflection in the mirror lined with photographs: the past and the future, friends and family and that magazine cutout of the Ford Mustang convertible barreling down the Pacific Coast Highway. You touch up your hair and makeup, then admire your dress. It occurs to you that almost everyone downstairs is wearing black or white or silver, cold wintery colors, New Year’s colors. You are the only one in red. When you got ready hours ago, you had felt powerful and sensual and elegant. You had imagined disappearing with Aegon into this room just after midnight, his hands skating up your thighs as cheers and toasts rumble through the floor. Now, when you imagine your exclamation-point red dress in a sea of cool, sleek shades of darkness and light, it strikes you as perhaps trying too hard. Desperate, even.

You pick up the phone on your nightstand and dial Aegon’s number. The line is busy.

Who would he be talking to? you wonder, perplexed. Everyone he knows is here.

You can’t drive over to pick him up; not until some of the champagne leaves your system, anyway. And you could never ask someone else to take you. You have no idea what you’ll find when you get there. You hang up the phone and stare down at it for a while.

So this is what it felt like. All those nights when Mom was waiting for Jesse to come home and he never did, all those times they had plans that he forgot. She’d be sitting on the couch or at the dining room table trying not to lose her mind as the hours crept by, and the whole time he’d be off getting wasted somewhere.

You physically shake your head to chase the vision away.

Aegon is going to be here. He has to be here. He’s been getting better.

“No luck?” Heather asks when you reappear downstairs, trying to sound neutral. You know she’s not actually neutral. You know exactly what she’s thinking.

“I’m sure he’ll be on his way soon.” You plop down on the couch next to Joyce and gaze at the television without really seeing it. You are vaguely aware of the entertainers flitting in and out of the little black box: Neil Diamond, Faith Hill, Enrique Iglesias, Billy Joel, Barry Manilow, NSYNC, Christina Aguilera, Aerosmith. Around you, the party rolls on. You chat less and less and consume only water. You’re losing your appetite, and you want to be able to drive by the time midnight strikes. It’s 11:00, and then 11:15, and then 11:30, and eventually 11:45. More Juneau residents filter in, but none of them are Aegon.

“You okay, ladybug?” your dad asks as he moseys by the couch, and you send him away with a peppy affirmation and a too-wide smile. Your mom tries next, with similar results. They know you aren’t okay, but they can’t say anything about it. Neither can Heather or Kimmie or Joyce. You become a blip on a hectic radar, an island in the South Pacific so small the rest of the world flies over it without even looking down. The house is hot and teeming with bodies: friends and lovers laughing together, touching each other, chatting, kissing lips and throats and cheeks. The living room suddenly feels like it’s on fire, like there’s searing smoke pouring into your lungs. You tell your friends you’re going to the bathroom so they’ll leave you alone, and then you squeeze through the crowd and flee out into the backyard, which is blessedly empty. Everyone else has crammed inside to watch the tv as the clock nears midnight. No one wants to miss the ball drop. You couldn’t care less.

You plod through the snow in your ridiculous red heels until you reach the firepit, and you stand there glaring into the blaze with your bare arms wrapped around you. There is light snow falling, but you don’t even feel cold. You feel like you’re burning from the inside out, like you’ve swallowed the same flames that are dancing across your face.

He’s not going to show up, you are certain now. He’s really not going to. And he knew that all along, which is why he didn’t want me to drive him.

You feel furious, you feel ruined, but most of all you just feel stupid. You’ve heard this story before. You were a part of it, you were built by it. And yet somehow you thought you could change the ending.

Wind howls through the evergreen trees, and now you are cold. You clutch yourself tighter, shivering viciously and covered in goosebumps. You’re stuck out here; there are tears spilling down your cheeks, black trails of mascara that will scream to anyone who sees you that you’ve been crying. Crying over Aegon. Crying over some fucking alcoholic loser who stood me up.

Of course, you don’t actually think he’s a loser. That’s the problem. Everyone seems to understand exactly who he is but you.

You hear the back door of the house swing open, and there are heavy footsteps crunching through the snow. You sniffle, trying to wipe the tears from your face with your fingers. You imagine that you’re only making it worse: stained foundation, smudged eyeliner, lip gloss worn away. You expect to see your dad when you turn around, but you don’t. You see Trent.

“Don’t freak out,” he says, and holds out your parka to you from several feet away. “I’m not trying to annoy you. I just saw you run outside and figured you might need this.”

“Did anyone else see me?”

“I don’t think so.”

You grab the parka from him, yank it on, and zip it shut. You sniffle some more, mopping tears from your face. The stars and moon are almost fully obscured by clouds; the only light in the world is fire. After a while, you ask Trent: “What did Heather tell you?”

“She said that you are a mature, responsible, logical person, and that if I want to have any shot with you at all then I have to be the same way. And she was totally right. Losing my temper is immature, being jealous is immature. So now I’m giving you the space that you asked for. I get it now. I’m not going to try to tell you what you want. You’re too smart for that. You have to decide what you want for yourself.”

I’ve already decided, and I chose wrong. I chose so, so, disastrously wrong. “I appreciate that, Trent,” you say in a hoarse whisper.

He turns around to go back inside, then hesitates. “Look, I’m glad that you and Aegon are friends now. He’s not a bad guy. But he’s…I mean, he’s a mess, you know? And he’s always going to be a mess. And you can’t expect him to not be a mess. I’m sorry if he ruined something for you tonight. I know your family has sort of temporarily adopted him, and I know you like to fix things. But sometimes there are no bolts to tighten or nails to hammer in. Sometimes people just are who they are.”

You consider Trent, a mirage of bitter cold and firelight. He shrugs, offers a sheepish half-smile, flips his hair, and then retreats inside the house. Minutes later, as you try to choke back sobs under blind stars, you hear cheers and applause when the new millennium arrives.

As car doors slam and guests rummage through piles of coats, you slip mostly unnoticed into the kitchen. You pour yourself a full glass of water, drink all of it, and then make for your purse where your Jeep keys are stashed. You are intercepted in the dining room by your parents and Heather. You try to hide your face, but there’s no point. You are as clear as glass under the yellowish artificial light.

“Oh, ladybug, are you okay?” Your mom engulfs you in a warm, comforting hug that is also constraining. I have to try to find Aegon. I have to confront him. Not who I want him to be, but who he really is.

“I’m fine, Mom. I’m fine. I’ll be back in like a half hour, and then I’ll help you clean up the house.”

“The house!” your dad bellows, barking out a laugh of disbelief. “We aren’t worried about the house! What can we do, ladybug? Is there anything we can do?”

“No, really, I can handle it.”

“You can’t go anywhere alone,” Heather says. “It’s dark, it’s super late.” The other fact hangs in the air like snowflakes. The Ice Fisher might be out there somewhere, just waiting to snatch you off the sidewalk and sink you into a lake.

“It’s just across town, it’s a ten-minute drive, it’s not a big deal.”

“You can’t go out alone,” your dad insists, looking gratefully at Heather. Your mom nods along. “I’m sorry, but if something happened to you, we’d never be able to forgive ourselves.”

“I’ll go,” Heather says. “I think I’ve had too much champaign to drive, but I can ride along and walk you inside.”

“That’s completely unnecessary. I have my bear mace.”

“Then I’ll wait in the Jeep!” Heather throws up her hands, exasperated. “Look, bitch, one way or another someone is going with you. I’ll make sure you get up to his apartment—that’s where you’re going, right? I think we all know that’s where you’re going—and then I’ll wait for you. I’ll wait five minutes, I’ll wait five hours, I really don’t care how long it takes but there is no fucking way you’re driving off into the night alone.”

You aren’t leaving this house without a chaperone. That’s pretty obvious. Aegon doesn’t care where I am or who I’m with. He didn’t even care enough to call and say he wouldn’t be here. “Fine. Okay. But we’re leaving right now.”

You grab your purse and Heather follows you out to the Jeep, struggling to keep up. “I would not have guessed you could move so efficiently in heels,” she puffs, climbing into the passenger’s seat. You tear out of the driveway, tires chomping on salt and ice and snow. Heather tries to make conversation. You don’t quite ignore her; it’s more like you don’t hear her at all. You hear the wind and the snow and the blood rushing in your ears. You hear the shrieking hollowness left by what could have been.

You park under the streetlight outside Aegon’s apartment building, murky luminescence flooding the cabin of your Jeep. Heather sees the inky tears on your face…and she sees the rage too: raw, brutal, razor-sharp rage. “Well, Jesus Christ, don’t kill him or anything.”

You don’t reply. You venture out into the savage cold, your heels leaving deep punctures in the ice-coated snow like stab wounds.

Upstairs, Aegon’s apartment door is locked. You can’t hear anything on the other side. And as you rattle the key he gave you into the jagged slit of the knob, you feel a dark premonition sinking in: a pebble through waves, a body into the depths. There is an instinctual warning that hums from your skin all the way down to your bone marrow.

There is no coming back from this moment. It’s like balancing on a ledge. There is something terrible here that I will never be able to unsee, to undiscover.

What is it? What the hell is it? That Aegon’s drunk? Would that really be so out of character, so inconceivable?

Maybe he’s with another woman. Maybe he’s already left Juneau. Maybe he’s dead.

You open the door; and in the silent florescent light of the kitchen, the first thing you notice is that the jar on top of the refrigerator is gone. Then you spot it: it’s open and sideways on the countertop, and it’s empty. Sunfyre lies on the kitchen’s tile floor with his scarred muzzle resting on his paws. He whimpers, large dark eyes troubled.

“Aegon?” you say. You step inside, your red heels clicking on the scuffed wood. You close the door behind you. Your eyes scan the dimly-lit room—guitar, bed, lifeless television, phone he left off the hook, couch—until you find him. He is a pale, crumpled figure on the floor. “Aegon?!”

You rush to him, dropping to your knees so hard you bruise them. He groans when you roll him over onto his back, so he’s not dead. He’s half-dressed: red leather pants, combat boots, gold chain necklace, no shirt. When you lift your hand from him, blood stains your palm.

“What—?”

And then you see the stripe of maroon dripping down from the crook of his left elbow. There’s a bloodied needle on the floor beside him, a lighter, a spoon. There’s a small transparent baggie half-filled with white powder.

Aegon blinks at you through his tangled hair, pulling himself upright with great effort. Everything about him is heavy, hazy, like trying to run through water. He doesn’t seem aware of the blood. It’s in his hair, you realize; and there’s a smear on his neck, a splattering on his bare chest. “What are you so dressed up for?”

You can’t answer him. You’re so full of horror and rage that if you open your mouth you might start screaming and never stop.

“Oh,” Aegon remembers listlessly. “Party.”

“I watched the door all night like an idiot, like some desperate little kid”—waiting for their father to come home—“and the whole time you were here shooting up.”

He gazes at you, but from a distance, like he’s looking up from the bottom of the ocean and you’re the shadow of a ship. His voice is slow and muddled. “Yeah.”

“And I guess that’s where all the money went. The money for the San Diego trip.”

“Yeah.”

“How fucking dare you,” you hiss. You grab the baggie off the floor.

Aegon’s hand darts out and closes around your wrist. “No—!”

You rip your arm away from him. “This is heroin, right?” You catch a fistful of his hair and yank his head back so you can check his eyes. Aegon flinches and yelps, but he doesn’t struggle. His eyes are bloodshot, his pupils pinpricks in an ocean of deep blue. “How fucking dare you,” you say again. “How fucking dare you.”

You take the baggie to the kitchen sink, shove it down into the drain, turn on the garbage disposal. You run water down the drain until any trace of it is gone. When you return to Aegon, he’s watching you with those dazed, other-world eyes. He’s still slumped over on the floor; he doesn’t seem to be able to stand. He keeps trying to and flopping over.

“If you’re so mad then hit me,” he says. “Just hit me. Just fucking hit me.”

“Why did you have to come here?” you ask, wrenching the question out of you like extracting a molar or a bullet. Fresh tears brim in your eyes; embers kindle in your throat. You think of how hundreds of years ago doctors believed that you could bleed a patient to rid them of poison or disease, and you wonder how much of yourself you would have to spill into a bowl to forget Aegon. You wonder if your mom has ever forgotten a single thing about Jesse: his voice, his fingertips, the way his hair fell across his face. “If you were just going to make me want something that was never possible, if you were just going to show me what it felt like to be real and then take it away, what was the point? What was the goddamn point? Why did you have to come here and ruin my life?”

“You didn’t like your life before I showed up and you won’t like it when I’m gone.”

“I hate you,” you choke out.

Aegon’s jaw falls open. He can’t believe you said it. Neither can you.

“I want you to leave,” you tell him. “Tomorrow when you sober up I want you to pack your things and get on a plane and leave Juneau like you left everywhere else. I don’t want to know where you go next. I don’t want to know anything about you. I never want to see you again.”

“No.” You can’t tell if it’s defiance or denial or confusion. You don’t stay to argue with him.

You go to the apartment door, open it, and call to Sunfyre: “Come on, buddy.” He rockets off the tiles and trots over, tail wagging cautiously.

“Hey, hey, you can’t take my dog!” Aegon shouts, dragging himself towards you. His hands and knees thump against the wooden floor.

“Yes I can. You can’t be trusted with him. You don’t deserve him.”

“Please don’t,” Aegon whispers huskily. “Don’t take him away. Please.”

You twist his apartment key off your keyring and pitch it at him. It strikes his shoulder and ricochets off, clattering across the floor. He looks at it, not understanding. It’s a dead language, it’s an ancient rune he can’t read. Or maybe he just doesn’t want to. “Goodbye, Aegon.”

You slam the door, fly down the building staircase, break into the cold all-consuming darkness with Sunfyre on your heels like a shadow made of gold.

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen #aegon ii #aegon x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x y/n #aegon x reader #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen ii #aegon targaryen ii x reader #aegon ii x you #aegon ii x reader

[mspandorasart]

Thoughts about Undertale Yellow

Greetings, I just returned from binging through Undertale Yellow, True Pacifist Route specifically, and am seeking a place to let out some thoughts (and steam). It's the first time I'm doing this type of "review" on my blog, but since my thoughts on it are quite strong, I thought, "hey, why the heck not"? Spoilers for the game and its ending ahead, fellas. Buckle up.

First off, let me begin by stating that, for the most part, I had a blast playing through it. The music is amazing, the boss themes real bangers, the environmental ones great as well. My favorite track was the OST that played in the Dunes: a really catchy western vibe with Flowey's theme in it as well, an earworm that filled me with Determination while running through the sandy fields. Then we have a beautiful pixel art style, gorgeous sceneries, great gameplay with challenging and fun boss fights (side note: although I couldn't fully appreciate Ceroba's fight since it had a couple pretty much unavoidable attacks. Or is it just skill issue on my part? Anyway, that part annoyed me more than it should have. Moving on, lmao.)

Furthermore, the game also has charming characters! They are the ones that kept me going and really ignited my interest. Not gonna lie, it took me until the town in the Dunes to become really invested in the game. Martlet is charming and cute, sure, but North Star and his gang, no, that guy specifically sold it for me. Charismatic, funny, very expressive sprites (well, all facial sprites are quite colorful, but it took me until North Star to appreciate/notice just how many there are for each character) and an interesting internal conflict with wanting to entertain others so they forget about the pain of being stuck underground, but at the same time being so absorbed in his persona that he temporarily acts like a douche towards his pals and forgets who he truly is. He also features my favorite joke in the game when he proudly proposes to the salesman that "he wants to buy a gun for the child". Freaking hilarious, love him, huehehue.

Story-wise, I was pleasantly surprised and taken aback by the dark twists of Ceroba and her husband Chujin. And I appreciated how the flashbacks got intigrated within her final boss fight. I don't know about you, but my biggest motivation to play RPGs are not just the gameplay, it's mainly the characters and the story. If the gameplay is amazing but the characters/plot boring, then I lose interest quickly. To me, the real rewards of a tough battle are story progression and seeing just what the characters will do next. Therefore, I greatly enjoyed the breaks between Ceroba's phases in which we saw parts of her backstory. They even made me cry!

...Although, to be honest, I don't exactly understand why we had that insight into her mind in the first place. Why did we survive so many hits to the point of 0.00001 HP? Where's that coming from all of a sudden? Why did time stop at some point like Za Warudo? Maybe that random plot armor (that happened the first time and never again) is explained in another route, but anyway, moving on-

This review-style blog entry only exists because of the True Pacifist ending. I'll be blunt, I hate it. Why?

So it ends with Clover sacrificing their soul for the monsters so they can eventually break free. Which is fine on its own. Clover is for the most part a blank slate of a character, only driven by their desire to seek the lost humans, that's basically it. Maybe it would have made a bit more sense for Clover to see an actual physical proof of their demise before they give up on them completely, but eh. I'm also wondering whether they are really okay with potentially another, possibly innocent human falling down sometime in the future only to get killed by the monsters. But oh well.

(You know, now that I think about it, I actually am a bit salty about Clover's decision to sacrifice themselves, lmao. Would've been kinda cool if it was up to the player, have another ending split.)

Anyways, the issue I'm having is how our cast of supporting characters, Martlet, North Star aka Starlo and Ceroba react to Clover's decision. They are shocked first, but... agree surprisingly quickly?? What?? Excuse me, the entire hassle we went through to get to this point was to stop Ceroba from taking Clover's soul. Now with Clover volunteering to sacrifice themselves, the gang is cool with it??

Of course they don't agree immediately, but are easily swayed within a few arguments back and forth. Man, what friends you are, guys. The reason I'm having this pet peeve in the first place is because we as the human, who has known these guys for just a day, did a lot for them, alright? They all tried to kill us at one point, but we took the beating, the hard battles, forgave them and were there for them during their internal conflicts. We were a pretty decent friend, if I may say so.

Especially with Ceroba! We did a lot to change her mind and path of self-destruction! Yet our so-called friends don't put in the same amount of effort when it comes to convincing us otherwise- or heck, use force if you must- get Clover away from there, lmao. Wouldn't it have been an interesting act of redemption on Ceroba's part, by the way, if she tried to stop us? Being touched by our mercy and refusal to give up on her, she does the same for us?

I suppose the reason I am so baffled by all this is because of Clover being a blank slate, the player character really felt like me, like I was going through the journey and not like I was controlling another character. It felt like my decision to spare them all, to talk to them and wanting to get to know them better. So the group of characters I have really grown to like giving up on me within about a minute of back-and-forth just felt... wow. Thanks, guys.

If I compare it to Undertale's True Pacifist in which every important supporting character gathers up after the confrontation with Asgore, all agreeing with the decision of me, the player, staying in the Underground with them, then oh boy, it really stings. Just would've been a cool, wholesome sign of friendship if Martlet, Starlo and Ceroba decided that "nah, even for the surface, we won't give up on Clover". By the way, in this game, we don't even really get to see why the monsters want to return to the surface so badly. They keep saying they want to, but what are the reasons exactly? More freedom, I suppose. Yet by expanding the Underground with the Dunes, the Mines, the Factory, and some of Snowdin, the Ruins and New Home, their habitat seemed so much larger than in the OG game- What I wanna say is, their desperation should've been shown way more instead of told, so the player can understand the monsters' aspiration better.

The thing is, it's a shockingly easy issue to fix if you really want "the canon ending" with Clover ending up dead and their soul taken: have Clover still have their moment of doubt and realization, remembering what the monsters told them throughout their journey. Then they go to Asgore with their gang, hoping to convince him. It doesn't work out, so Asgore starts a fight. During the battle, Clover realizes it's useless to fight back, it's better to have their soul taken for the monsters, so they allow Asgore to kill them. Their friends are not powerful enough to stop him. There ya have it.

Siiiiigh. Is it just me, being annoyed by that ending? As a whole, the finale felt a little... rushed? Was New Home always meant to be so empty? Is it to build up atmosphere? Yet there were two silly NPCs in the first screen of New Home, making me assume that maybe, there was another plan originally? (If it has been stated in a devlog or any other comment by the creators, then I apologize, I haven't read those fully.)

Anyways, if I didn't care about the game, this rant wouldn't even exist in the first place. I was really invested in the game until the ending just left me... kinda sad, not gonna lie. It will take me a while to process it all.

If you got this far, then thanks for reading. Am I the only one feeling this miffed about the ending? I might go back and edit this post if I find out there are things to be corrected. Buuuut as of now, happy holidays!

#undertale #undertale yellow #undertale yellow spoilers #undertale fangame

[astarionsilverbough]

it all goes fast (like a call to faith)

{prompt fill for @justanerdalltheway who requested numbers 11, 24 and 25 off this list

title from the song big bad city by evalyn

i hope you enjoy it, love! i didn't know how these two reunited in the brief Between after Halsin broke our dear vampire's heart and Before astarion died, but now we do.}

He's never known home.

Not in the traditional sense, anyway. The natural world has many definitions of the term but none come close to the unnaturalness of cities or towns. Permanent settlements are an invention of thinking creatures; while many packs or herds call the same plains or forests or deserts their territory, that territory is subject to change multiple times throughout the year.

For most animals, the pack or herd itself was as close to home as anything else. It was not the physical place, but the connections amongst them that defined the term.

So it was also for Halsin.

Home was not a place, but:

" 'And did the lasses go dancing,

Dancing, aye, and did the lads go drinking,

Drinking, aye, and did the hounds go hunting,

a Hunting'," hums a low, soft voice at the end of the hall. Oh, that voice. It was the true north of his compass, the guiding star that led him -

Well.

How long had it been since he last heard it?

" 'And the lasses went a-dancing,

And the lads a-drinking,

And the hounds a-hunting,

But my heart went wandering,

A-wandering'," and -

"Astarion?"

The young elf looks up and those brilliant golden eyes go wide. A wild litany of emotions unravels across his face; oh, but that face. It's sharper now, delicate features finally fully grown into. His soft white curls are artfully teased in the effortless way and his nimble fingers are adorned with delicate golden rings that make them look even longer than they are.

He still keeps his mother's amulet hidden under his clothes.

When Halsin steps into the office, Astarion takes a step back. The druid halts and opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Astarion slowly shuts the tome he'd been pouring over and sets it on the bookshelf a tad absently. It's teetering on the edge, but before Halsin can say anything about it, Astarion finds his voice again.

"Halsin?" he breathes. He's wearing a dark doublet embroidered with golden peacocks down the front. It doesn't suit him. The collar's too high and the fabric too stiff, unbreathable and tight.

It looks more like something his father would wear.

"Forgive me," Halsin utters, and now the emotions are beginning to spin into a storm inside him, because it's been nineteen years since he's seen this face and it's sharper and Astarion stands like his father now and he wears clothes his father would wear and Halsin -

"Forgive me," he says again, clearing his throat, "I - your father said you'd been made a magistrate. Your assistant let me in."

Astarion's expression does something complex before settling on a feigned pout. "Halsin, I'm hurt," he says, "you went to see father first?"

His stomach launches into his chest and Halsin huffs a laugh. "It was not on purpose, I assure you - I was in Reithwin just for supplies," he says as Astarion watches him with something akin to a predator's gleam in his sunlit eyes, "but I ran into him at Last Light and he told me you were in Baldur's Gate, so... here I am."

"You came to this cesspool of a city just to see me?" Astarion asks incredulously.

"Of course," Halsin says with a huff of laughter. "Did I not tell you we would meet again, little star?"

Astarion's lips part. Some of the softness he remembers creeps back into the elf's gaze. His shoulders drop a fraction and he relaxes, fingertips lighting on the book. Unbalanced, it drops to the floor. Halsin moves on instinct as Astarion jumps a bit, one hand fluttering to his own chest. The druid stoops to pick the tome up from the ground and when he straightens up, Astarion is -

There.

Mere inches away.

He smells - Silvanus preserve him, he smells exactly the same, like bourbon and sunlight and the rosemary oil he puts in his hair to help it grow. It's intoxicating, enough to get Halsin's head spinning like he's had a bit too much of his favorite smoking leaf. He looks up at Halsin through thick silver lashes and Halsin watches his throat work around a hard swallow.

"You did at that," Astarion says quietly. "Well - here you are. I - am woefully unprepared for company, but would you like to join me for a drink?"

"Ah," Halsin says, "I rarely imbibe these days."

Astarion arches a brow. "I never said you had to drink," he drawls, "come now, darling - you broke my heart, you know. The least you could do is lavish me with your relentless charm for an hour or two before you run back to whatever cozy little den you're wintering in this year."

Oh, but that wicked tongue has grown even deadlier. Halsin's thighs tense. His cock stirs and his gut swirls. Tilting his head, he smiles and murmurs, "and I never said I wasn't joining you. Lead the way, little star. You always do."

The grin that spreads over Astarion's face is the most brilliant thing Halsin's seen in nineteen years.

They step out of the building as a gust of wind sweeps past. Autumn is slowly loosening her grasp on the world; soon it will be winter. Leaves dance around their feet and one ends up waltzing all the way up to Astarion's hair. Reaching out, Halsin plucks the wayward plant from those snowy curls and barely resists the urge to card his fingers through them.

"Oh - well, thank you," Astarion purrs, stealing the leaf to twirl it between thumb and forefinger. "I'd hate to strut about looking the fool. Perhaps having someone so bloody tall around is a good idea."

"I don't think it's possible for you to look the fool, Star."

Astarion snorts and lets the leaf slip through his grasp with the next gust of bracing wind. "Well, you clearly don't recall how tipsy I was at the Shieldmeet."

I do, Halsin thinks with a soft smile. You told me I looked handsome when I smoked and I fell in love with the way the moon looked in your eyes.

Halsin offers his arm.

Astarion takes it.

"So, tell me," Astarion says after a beat of comfortable silence, "what has the great druid Halsin been up to? Hopefully none of these new scars were earned in the effort to escape randy bears."

Halsin barks out a laugh. "No," he chuckles, "I might be a slow learner, but I do learn. There have been no more misunderstandings between nature and me. I've been doing what I've always done - gone where the Oak Father bids me. I've ridden the high seas and I've traversed untouched wilds."

"Those better not be euphemisms."

"And if they were?"

"Oh, no judgment from me, I assure you," Astarion drawls, and though his mask is almost pristine, Halsin can see the edge in his gaze when he looks at him. "At least, not for the truth. They were just god-awful if they were. Ridden the high seas? Please. You sound like a penny novel."

"I am fond of them," Halsin admits. Astarion's smile is small, private. He pats Halsin's hand.

"I know, darling."

"And what about you?" the druid hears himself ask.

"What have I been up to? Or am I going to have to invent some euphemisms of my own on the spot?"

There's no going back. "Yes to both," he says carefully. He's no right to ask - no right to pry into any aspect of Astarion's life. Not now.

But then a smug, knowing little smirk crosses Astarion's lips and he squeezes Halsin's arm. "Oh, I've been the untouched wilds and I've ridden the highest seas. Both adventures left much to be desired, I'm afraid. I am, much to my father's chagrin, a professional bachelor. He's beginning to worry I'm unmarriable."

The knot in Halsin's gut loosens. Butterflies fill his lungs. Astarion watches him like he can hear them. "Ah," he says neutrally.

"Mmm. Ah indeed," Astarion hums. "As for what I've been up to - well. I'm sure your tales are far better than mine, darling. I became a magistrate at the tender age of twenty-four and... Here I am still."

"Do you still play the violin?" Halsin asks quietly. Astarion's jaw ticks and his fingers flex subtly against Halsin's arm.

"I hardly have time these days," he says with a fleeting smile.

Halsin's throat tightens. "Well," he says, "it's a lucky thing, then, that you've all the time in the world ahead of you. I should like to hear you play again, little star."

They slow to a halt in the middle of the idly busy street. When Astarion looks up at him, Halsin forgets the chill of autumn. That gaze is warmer than any hearth, softer than any pillow full of down; Astarion's eyes gleam from the inside out and Halsin -

Halsin is home.

"Well," Astarion murmurs, reaching up to gently tuck a stray lock of hair behind Halsin's ear, "you'll have to stick around for a bit, then, won't you?"

He thumbs over Halsin's jaw, the shell of his hear; it takes all his not-inconsiderable strength not to sweep Astarion into a kiss then and there.

"At least for a drink," Halsin says quietly.

Astarion's lips curve into a gentle smile.

"A fine way to start," he says.

It is.

And they have all the time in the world.

He's home.

#baldur’s gate 3 #the land of gods and monsters verse #halstarion #astarion #rambles #halsin #haha this hurt actually #the ending hurt #poor halsin #u sad sorry son of a bitch #prompts

[sunshine-overload]

[BSTS] April Fool’s 2024 ‘The Hero, Reincarnated in Another World’ Event Story - Part 2

Part 1

Chapter 9 

-village, day-

priest (qu): Let's rest in this town. I need to replenish my magic.

warrior (kokuyou): Can the Hero really not move on his own? Can't be helped I guess, let's find a treatment facility.

haseyama: Hurry it up! Ow, it hurts so bad...

-sin appears-

??? (sin): ...That sword. Are you the Hero?

haseyama: Huh?

??? (sin): ...It's grey exterior has been polished to be as pure as ice and snow.

haseyama: What are you talking about?

??? (sin): The chaos that crawled out from the underworld laughs in mockery. It reverberates all around, crushing each and every star in the sky, returning everything back to nothingness.

strongest sorcerer (lico): Um, what is this guy going on about?

haseyama: Who knows. I guess he's exactly the same even in this world.

-nekome appears-

villager B (nekome): Oh, would you like me to interpret for you? I can more or less understand what that man is saying.

haseyama: Oh really? Sure then.

villager B: This man used to be a hero but he was defeated by the Demon King. Now he's in this town recovering from his injuries. That's what he's saying... I think.

strongest sorcerer: You think?

haseyama: You, did you used to be a hero? If you fought with the Demon King then surely you know the directions to his castle, yes?

former hero (sin): A place without a sun cannot be called hell. For it is under the bright sun in which darkness spreads further.

villager B: He's probably saying that the Demon King is super strong no matter what.

strongest sorcerer: Probably?

haseyama: I don't care about that, I'm asking you for directions!

former hero: On the path to chaos you will meet with a bewildering forest as far as the eye can see. You can do naught but pray for Hermes' divine protection to guide you.

villager B: "The Demon King's castle is really big and fancy so it's easy to get lost in it~" Or something like that.

strongest sorcerer: Something like that? Why are you so unsure of your own translations?

villager B: That's cause I'm not completely sure what he's saying either. Sorry if I got anything wrong~

strongest sorcerer: Can this guy really be called an interpreter?

former hero: ...On the way to the Demon King's castle is a large and winding forest. Without a map you will not be able to traverse it.

strongest sorcerer: So he was translating wrong after all! Also what, you could've just spoken normally this whole time??

haseyama: Where am I supposed to find this map exactly? And don't say to head north!

former hero: The goddess behind the palms in the depths of the forest is laughing. Where exactly are you planning on going with those clothes made of scrap paper?

villager B: I think he's saying that you have no chance of defeating the Demon King if you don't gather better items and equipment first~?

haseyama: That's true. Video games always make you prepare better equipment too. But how the heck am I supposed to pay for it all? That stupid great leader or whatever stole every last cent we had!

warrior: We can't do much other than defeating some weak enemies to earn some pocket change.

haseyama: Do we really have to do something as tedious as that? Such a pain.

villager B: Ah, in that case there's a place nearby you could visit. It's the ALL IN casino.

haseyama: A casino! That's exactly what we need! We can rake in a large sum of money real quick!

qu: And where do we get the money to make our initial bet exactly?

haseyama: I'll just use my sword.

strongest sorcerer: If you do that and end up losing the sword don't expect any of us to stick around. 

haseyama: Ah shut up! What other option do I have here?

—end

-

Chapter 10

-inside casino-

haseyama: So this is the ALL IN casino huh? Hey, is the owner here? Bring him out!

casino owner (hari): Oh my, if it isn't the Hero himself. I humbly welcome you to my casino.

haseyama: ...So you're the owner. Well whatever, our standings mean nothing in this world. I'm the Hero, I've come here to win big.

casino owner: I'm honoured. Which game would you like to play?

haseyama: Whatever is fine. I'd like a high stakes table where you can win a huge amount in one round.

casino owner: I see... And how much money do you currently have on hand?

haseyama: I don't have any. I'm the hero so I'm paying with credit!

casino owner: Throw him out please.

bodyguard (kongou): Yes sir. You, we're heading out the back entrance. Never show your face here again.

haseyama: Excuse me!? Who do you think you're saying that to━

??? (ran): Hey hey. Are ya really the Hero, old man?

haseyama: And what are you supposed to be?

viper gang leader (ran): I'm the leader of the Viper Gang, we're a group of bandits. Let's play a round together, old man Hero.

haseyama: A round in what?

viper gang leader: Poker! An' we'll have the other guests of the casino bet on who they think'll win. The winner takes all the cash. I'll let the owner decide the payout percentage. Does that sound good?

haseyama: Fufu, Poker huh? Sure thing. This is an unexpected opportunity.

bodyguard: What do you think, owner? Do we allow them to play?

casino owner: It's fine, I'll allow it. If you're really calling yourself the Hero then show me you can beat the Viper Gang. I'll have high expectations.

haseyama: Hmph, leave it to me.

-time pass, playing poker-

haseyama: Call! What're you gonna do?

viper gang leader: Hmm... Ya probably only have a two pair, I have a straight so I'll raise.

haseyama: Huh!? ...Tch, I fold.

viper gang leader: Hahah, I win again~ Ya not lucky at all huh, old man?

haseyama: ...Oi, use your magic on him.

strongest sorcerer: What?

haseyama: The way he's able to predict everything is fishy. He's definitely using some sort of magic.

strongest sorcerer: Are you sure you're not just bad at poker?

haseyama: I know a cheater when I see one! If you won't check then I'll just have to doubt your magical ability instead!

strongest sorcerer: What kind of reasoning is that? Well whatever, I'll check. ━Reflection magic!

-screen flashes white-

viper gang leader: Woah!? What just happened?

strongest sorcerer: ...Oh, he actually was using magic. That guy is using x-ray vision magic to see through the cards.

viper gang leader: Agh!

haseyama: Hey now, seeing through the cards is cheating is it not? Can you really allow that to slide, mister owner?

casino owner: Of course not. The Viper Gang Leader is disqualified!

viper gang leader: Seriously!? Wait a sec, it was just a little prank, I swear!

bodyguard: You must leave immediately. Never show your face here again.

viper gang leader: No way~!!

-ran gets escorted out-

haseyama: Tch, trying to win by cheating. I hate dishonest players like that.

-sotetsu appears-

??? (sotetsu): Congrats on the victory, Hero-san. It's a joyous occasion winning so much cash isn't it?

haseyama: Huh? Who are you?

information broker (sotetsu): I'm just a humble information broker. I bet on you to win and just made billions.

haseyama: Billions...!? You mean all the other guests thought I'd lose?

information broker: I'm grateful you won, so I'll let you in on some top secret information. You'll accept it yeah?

haseyama: ...What is it?

—end

-

Chapter 11

-inside king's castle-

ghost (gui): The crystal is now projecting the Hero. Can you see him?

king (kei): Yes, I do. However... He has conducted some aggressive behaviour at that casino. Was it a mistake to entrust that man with the legendary sword?

-screen flashes white-

king: Who goes there?

master swordsman (yakou): Are you the king of this land? ━I'll be taking your head!

-yakou runs forwards-

ghost: ...! Watch out.

-gui steps in front of kei to protect him-

-kei steps back in front and smirks-

king: Lower your blade. How many times have you attempted this now? Dealing with you is child's play.

master swordsman: Don't you dare underestimate me... Here I come! Technique 'Advance, Bloom of One Hundred Flowers'! Sword style 'Unsinking Moon'!!

king: 'Paint it, all black' ━The light shall vanish, Starless!

-background goes black-

master swordsman: Guh, the light... is gone...!? I can't see anything! Ugh... Uwaaaahhh!!

-inside castle-

ghost: That master swordsman has been coming here daily.

king: It is not only the Demon King who is aiming to take my throne. The peace of this nations citizens is always in danger. Therefore, I cannot step away from my throne... However... Whenever I think about how scared the princess must be, my heart feels as if it's about to break. If that Hero ends up being useless, then even if it means abandoning this nation, I shall defeat that Demon King myself━

-cut away, forest, night-

priest: There's no demons here so the atmosphere is nice and tranquil. The Lost Forest is a surprisingly nice place.

warrior: Who would've thought that guy was gonna give us map for free. He looked like he'd be a pretty useful dude, you should've had him join us.

haseyama: Hah, no thanks. That bastard just wanted to use us for his own gain.

-flashback, casino-

information broker: As for the info I can give you... Did you know that there's a place known as the 'Lost Forest' that blocks the way to the Demon King's castle?

haseyama: That's all you've got? I already heard about that from some guy who was speaking in gibberish.

information broker: If you follow this map closely then you'll get through the Lost Forest without worry.

haseyama: Oh! 

information broker: I'll give you this map for free on the condition you settle some trouble that's cropped up in the forest for me. That way I'll be able to use the trade route through there again, deal? I'll be counting on you, Hero.

haseyama: Huh? Why do I have to do that for you!?

-cut back to present, forest, night-

haseyama: That bastard is just treating us like his own personal handymen.

priest: Oh, can you all see that light over there? There's a signboard too.

strongest sorcerer: It says it's an inn called 'Period'. Oh thank god, I don't have to do more camping tonight!

-inside inn-

inn owner (yoshino): Welcome. Oh my, that sword you're carrying. Are you the Hero?

haseyama: Yep, I'm the one whose on his way to save you all. I'd like a room, it's an honour to have me stay here is it not?

inn owner: Yes indeed! The hero party is most welcome to stay here. Please come right this way, I shall prepare a banquet for you all.

warrior: Ooh, a banquet you say? Will booze be included?

inn owner: Of course. It will all be my treat.

strongest sorcerer: My, what an upstanding inn.

haseyama: This is all because I'm the Hero y'know. You should all be more grateful towards me.

priest: ...On your high horse once again I see.

—end

-

Chapter 12

-inn room-

haseyama: Whew~ The alcohol here is strong!

warrior: Yeah, it's pretty high quality... hm...? What's wrong?

strongest sorcerer: Ngh... My hand is going numb...!

priest: Could it have been spiked with something?

haseyama: You damn inn owner...! What the hell are you trying to pull!?

inn owner: Fufu... fufufu...

-yoshino transforms-

haseyama: Who the hell are you...!?

shunran of the west (yoshino): Thank you for being so easy to deceive, dear hero party. I am one of the four great leaders of the Demon King's army. I have spiked all of your drinks with a poison that inflicts paralysis. With this, you're finished!

haseyama: Oh my, we can't have that.

warrior: Take this!

-kokuyou attacks yoshino-

shunran of the west: Ngh!? How can this be... When did you get behind me? Why are you still able to move!

haseyama: I heard from that information broker that a certain inn in the Lost Forest has had a habit of poisoning its guests!

priest: That's why I used my magic to give everyone poison resistance earlier.

shunran of the west: Then, you collapsed on purpose...!? To trick me!?

haseyama: You should try some of your own poisoned concoctions. Mm, tasty isn't it?

shunran of the west: Guh...! Stop that at once...!

-screen flashes white-

haseyama: Woah!? Huuh...! What's with this powerful wind...! Hm? Oi! Where'd that great leader bastard go!?

priest: ...He disappeared.

strongest sorcerer: What do you expect me to do when he made that sudden gust of wind? I don't want to get something in my eye.

haseyama: God you're all useless!

-time pass, next day, inn-

strongest sorcerer: Yaaawn~ Ah, I slept so well.

warrior: It's been ages since I last slept in a proper room on a futon. I feel so much more refreshed.

haseyama: Let's get going then. We're getting the hell out of this forest.

priest: I'm sorry this is so sudden, but I've decided that I'll be staying here.

haseyama: Huh? Why?

priest: I've taken a liking to this forest. And since the owner of this inn is gone, I'd like to live here and welcome guests in his place. I never had a desire to fight and defeat the Demon King in the first place. My apologies.

strongest sorcerer: Hmph, well whatever. Do as you like.

warrior: No point dragging along someone who has no will to fight.

priest: Thank you for the journey so far, so long, Hero.

haseyama: Tch... Do whatever you want!

—end

*Shunran means spring storm

-

Chapter 13

-lost forest, day-

warrior: !

-kokuyou attacks kasumi-

mob class demon: Uwah! He got me~!

strongest sorcerer: Take this!

-lico attacks another kasumi-

mob class demon: Kyaahh~! They're strong~!

haseyama: Tch, it takes you guys so long to defeat these mobs. Put more effort into it.

strongest sorcerer: Shut up would you? Our party is smaller now, what do you expect?

warrior: Before we face the Demon King we should probably find some extra firepower.

haseyama: Fine, let's go look for some companions then. What a pain.

-time pass, village-

haseyama: So, what do you think? Spot anyone useful?

strongest sorcerer: Not at all. Despite this village being so close to the Demon King's castle all these villagers are just living their happy go lucky lives.

warrior: There's no mercenaries or bodyguards around.

haseyama: Why's this place so peaceful? Did the Demon King forget to destroy this village? Also are the villagers just fine with living next to the Demon King's castle? Why didn't they evacuate their homes in fear?

warrior: Either way, we won't be finding any new recruits here. What should we do?

haseyama: Well, we've got plenty of equipment and healing potions. I'm sure we'll be fine. Let's rest in this village for today. 

haseyama: ━Hey, whoever owns this inn! I'm the guy that's gonna defeat the Demon King, so prepare me a nice room to stay in. You don't get many travellers through here anyways right? Bring out all the booze and meat that you've got!

warrior: ...You're more of a Demon King than a hero yourself.

strongest sorcerer: I'm fine with whatever but this better not end up being my last supper.

-cut away, haseyama's office-

??? (unei): Sigh... Dammit. They're all falling like flies, useless! If they can't defeat the Hero on their own then what good are they. You wouldn't think they were a subordinate of I who is so powerful.  So um... Is your name pronounced Hawklook?

??? (takami): That is fine. Rather, you can refer to me as harshly as you like.

??? (unei): Mm, but I'd feel bad about it for some reason. Well whatever. Kukuku, watch yourself Hero, for your next challenge will not be an easy one!

saki: (I don't know who they are, but I hope this Hero person will be ok...)

—end

To Part 3

#bsts translation #bsts event story #bsts haseyama #bsts unei

[popcornforone]

Christmas Wish

A Tim Rockford fan fic

I got in from the cinema tonight at about 10:30 watches a bit of tv & then went on tiktok & then couldn’t sleep. It’s now 2am & a small idea I had I’ve now almost completed a first draft of. & I think you will get the finished product soon. See this is why I have lots of fics in draft. Because bang I will get a new idea & then I’ll just write. Also I can’t believe I’m writing Tim again. Send help (but please don’t)

Synopsis: your taking your kids to see Santa but your husband isn’t sure he will make it on time. But a Santas wish box might make all your dreams come true.

Word count:3800

Warnings: DO NOT READ IF TOU ARE UNDER 18! PIV sex, breeding kink, pregnancy, swearing. Previous sexual encounters & fantasies mentioned. Husband & wife, swearing. Mentions of alcohol, teasing, crime is mentioned but not in detail, bedroom voice, Tim likes to be incontrol but he’s not a dom. cock warming, intense sex.

Thanks as always for reading peoples. All feedback is welcome.

3 rings, he always answers exactly after 3 rings no matter who it is. Today is no different.

“Detective Rockford” he answers professionally.

“Tim?” He turns red straight away & starts mouthing to the two other officers in the room with him working the case. He’s saying it’s you & it’s a family emergency.

“Ahhh hang on” he scurries out of the room & into his office down the corridor closing the door behind him. “Sorry still working the case, we’ve almost made a break through.” He says as he rubs his hand across his forehead. He always tried to think like the criminal to catch them & this case has pushed him a little. He’s often got home late exhausted & full of concern that that longer this person is on the loose, the harder it will be to find them.

“That’s not the only thing that needs to be considered” you say. He can hear babbling going on in the back ground. He’s worked out it’s your 5 year old & 2 year old. “How much later are you going to be tonight Tim?” You sound exasperated.

“Maybe an hour, so close, we’re so so close,” he then pauses “wait… I’m missing something, arent I?” He says. You falling silent down the other end of the phone confirms this. “Fuck! What am I missing?” His eyes scrunch up in anger, that he’s got caught up in his work once again. You knew being Mrs Rockford would come with moments like this, but recently it’s becoming more frequent.

“It’s 5pm at the moment, we are meant to all be meeting Santa at the North Pole Grotto at 6:30pm” you say calmly down the phone. You know annoying him by going I told you to set a reminder when you booked it 2 months ago, will piss him off. “I understand though Tim, this is a huge case. It will make our town safe. I can call them up & push it to next week if I do it in the…” Tim then hears your 5 year old son start singing jingle bells in the back ground. He knows he’s probably in his light up raindeer jumper & is so excited to see Santa tonight.

“No, you have to go. I’ll try & get there. I’m sure I’ve got the address, I’ll do my best”

“Tim I can…”

“No I can hear Jason singing in the background, don’t break his heart, I’ll make it up to him & Grace & you, especially you.” He looks at his watch. He can do this. He’s then disturbed as someone taps on the glass of his door. “Baby I gotta go, but promise me you’ll take the kids okay, even if I have to then come back to work, I’ll do my best”

“Tim I…”

“Promise me” he used his moody interrogation voice. That’s how you met. You had been a witness to a crime & he talked to you at the police station. He got no new clues out of you, but you left your number in case he needed to ask you anything else. 3 weeks later, you were handcuffed to his bed, screaming Tim’s name as he licked every inch of your pussy. His face glistening as he told you how good you tasted before he ravaged you for the next 2 days. Even detective Rockford through a sicky to pleasure his new girlfriend. That was almost 8 years ago. You knew what you were getting yourself into by having a relationship with someone like him, both work wise & sexually.

“Okay detective” you say & then sigh. He doesn’t even say bye down the phone, clearly somethings come up. You say to the beeping cancel tone “I love you baby” before Jason starts jumping about to the next Christmas song.

*

You are sat in the ‘north pole’ bouncing Grace on your lap who looks adorable in her snowman outfit. Jason is busy saying exactly what he wants Santa to get him.

“A rocket ship, lego, slime, chocolate, more chocolate…” the list keeps going.

“Yea Jason. Santa will see us in a second. He’s got lots of people to see. I think you just need to pick 3 items for today.” You say & he sits down next to you.

“What do you want for Christmas Mummy?” He asks. You had no idea your son was so thoughtful. The look on his face is genuine. He really wants to know.

“For you & your sister to have the best Christmas” you say & wrap your arms around him. His hug is pure love, the only kind of love a 5 year old can give.

“Oooh im not sure I can wrap that up, what can I actually get you?” Jason hugs you. You know what you really want but you know Jason can’t get it for you. You go to answer with something trivial, but your then interupted by a teenager dressed as an Elf.

“The Rockfords?” You stand up & go to speak.

“Yep that’s us” an echoing voice comes from down the corridor. Tim is lightly jogging your way & the beam on your face can’t be denied.

“Daddy!” Tim scopes Jason up into his arms.

“Hey sport” he gives his boy a big kiss & ruffles Graces hair as she’s almost asleep on you. “Couldn’t miss this for the world” he kisses your cheek & you turn as red as a robins breast. Tim is still in his full detective gear. Holsters & everything. It’s giving you flash backs to some previous role play. He’s previously just left his tie & the holsters on while he’s fucked you & fake interrogated you in bed. The last time he did it, he growled just before his point of climax are you on birth control, you screamed no. You didn’t know Tim had a breeding kink until that moment as he went oh we’re gonna make this stick then. He fucked you all night, even when you woke up in the morning. He was late for work that’s day & you walked slowly for a week. The man delivered though, 9 months later Grace was born.

“I’m glad you made it baby” you say to him as you enter the first room & you are both offered a mince pie. Tim bites into his & his face lights up even more.

“Oooh this tastes good, I haven’t eaten since breakfast” he says & after you’ve had a small bite of yours, you offer it to him. There’s no point rolling your eyes at Tim not eating, his job means he sometimes doesn’t stop for hours. “Thanks beautiful” he says.

You’re then asked if you’d all like to stand infront of a fake fire for a family photo. Usually Tim hates this but he sees Jason get ready to pose & smile.

“Oooh absolutely” a few sensible & also funny family photos are taken in front of the fire & you know by the time you are done with Santa, you will have the jpegs emailed across to print off at home. Tim smiles genuinely in every single photograph. It makes butterflies flutter in your stomach. Those eyes that made you fall for him, dazing in the fake fire light. So warm cozy & loving much like his hugs on a cold winters night. He sees you look & looks back into your own soft blue eyes. “Hello you” he whispers. He can see the love reflecting back to him. His hand slowly fits in yours. So large but soft. The way his thumb goes across your knuckles to start with arouses you.

“Are you all ready to meet Santa?” the elf says, bring you both back to reality.

“Yes” Jason shouts. You & Tim both nod. You’re just happy to see Tim enjoying a family moment & forgetting about work stress.

“Well let’s go” The elf lifts up the icicle beaded curtain & Jason bounds in & you & then Tim follow.

There sits Santa. On his big red chair. A large tree, 3 large sacks of gifts & a few toys on the floor. It’s in a cabin setting. Jason doesn’t move, hes star struck.

“Go on Jason” you say & he then grabs Tim’s leg feeling a little shy.

“Hohoho is that Jason Rockford?” Santa asks in his deep voice. Jason nods, but still hangs onto daddy. “& that then must be mummy & daddy & is that your little sister Grace?” He asks, rubbing his belly. His beard is magnificently white & the suit is cherry red. You knew there was a reason why people booked up this Santa experience.

“How do you know my sisters name?” Jason asks suspiciously.

“It’s my job to know everyone’s name” Santa laughs “especially those on the nice list” Jason still hasn’t budged from Tim. Tim then gets down to his knees & looks at his son.

“Come on Jason, it’s only Santa, he wants to talk to you” he gestures. Jason still says nothing, not moving, standing firm. “Didn’t you want to tell him what was on your Christmas list, you told mummy earlier didn’t you.” Jason then shakes his head. Seeing Santa might have been what he’s wanted for the last 3 weeks but a 5 year old can’t process all those emotions. “Then tell me, tell daddy.”

“Chocolate” Jason says quietly.

“Sorry sport, speak up I missed that”

“More chocolate”

“Oooh chocolate I love chocolate” Santa Ho Ho Hos again & leans into a box,” i like Milky Way”

“That’s my fave too” Jason turns his head & he sees Santa holding one. In a flash Jason is no longer star struck or shy. He is on Santas knee, telling him about his gifts he’s like & what he thinks Grace wants & the elf’s take photos.

“He’s forward like his mum” Tim whispers in your ear as you hand Grace over for the kids to have their own Santa photo.

“& shy to start with like his dad, but then once your out of the shell” you smile at him.

“Thought you like me being outgoing and adventurous” Tim says. He then does that thing with his hand, the way he rubs it around his neck always has you pining, you have no idea why, it just does.

“I want any version of you my love” you then see Santa start to wrap it up the fun.

“Now here’s a small gift” he starts & he hands one to Jason & one to you for Grace as Tim picks her up.” To keep you going until Christmas night okay”

“Wow really, thanks Santa” Jason hugs him & we thank him too.

“Don’t forget to put your Christmas wishes in the box on your way out. Ho Ho Ho & Merry Christmas” he says & your family leave the room.

You look at the wish box & get Jason to write his down & you do one for Grace. But then you see Tim with a piece of paper.

“Baby what are you…”

“You need to do one too” he says as take a photo of his before he drops his in the box “otherwise your Christmas wish won’t come true” you smile & do the same.

“Okay Tim” after dropping your wish into the box, you leave as a family & Tim helps you get the kids in the car, once you get to the car park.

“Are you coming home” you ask being hopeful.

“No I’m not, I have to go back, I’ve got a murderer interview to conduct.”

“You found them”you say excitedly.

“Yes, the team left to arrest him while I’ve been here, but I promise to not be too late okay” you can tell by the looks of it in his eyes that he wants to do nothing more than follow you & the kids home right now. Both will be sound asleep before he gets home tonight, there’s even a chance you might be.

“It’s okay baby, I get It” you smile & go to open your car door but he blocks you getting into it. Your eyes connect & the kiss Tim gives is sweet & soft & your gloved hands graze his beard. You don’t want this kiss to end. He looks full of both sorrow & love as the kiss breaks.

“I love you” Tim says & he traces his thumb across your lips & leaves you standing by the car as he walks off to go get in his.

*

Christmas Day madness has happened & you get into bed in your new pink fleece snoopy pyjamas that you got for Christmas. The clean up can start tomorrow. Your parents have agreed to get up if the kids are an issue tonight. In walks Tim into the bedroom in his dark blue pinstripe Pyjamas & he gets under the duvet with you & kisses your cheek.

“I’ve got 1 more Christmas gift for you baby & I think you have one for me”he says with a mischievous look in his eyes.

“Tim you know that we were always going to have…”

“No no nope, im not talking about sex” he says & he grabs his phone. “I want to show you what my Christmas wish was that I asked Santa for.” Your eyes dilate. You’d forgotten you did that on the evening you met Santa but now you’re excited to see what his was & to share yours.

“Really Tim?” You say excitedly & move close to him under the duvet. Your hand goes for his groin automatically, you know full well that sex is also on the cards, as you slip your hand beneath his bottoms. He lets out a small deep moan & you’re not just hot due to your new fluffy sleep wear. You want your husband, & he wants his wife.

“Y…ye…oooh yes” he says. You’re not sure if that’s a reaponse to sharing or your hand working his length or both, but the way his eyebrows twitch & the more breathing he does you think it’s more from arousal. He then grabs your hand & takes it away. “I don’t want to cum already” he mumbles & pulls you in so your head rests on his top. Such a firm chest & the broadest shoulders tower above you.

He scrolls through his photos.

“Your not worried you wish won’t come true baby”

“Ooh sweetheart” Tim kisses your forehead “it’s Christmas it’s a time for miracles” he says cockily.

“Did you just try & be Hans Gruber?” You ask & you both giggle.

“Guilty as charged” he says & then he flips his phone around & you look at what he wrote on the piece of paper. Your eyes well up.

For my families love & understanding everyday, not just at Christmas.

Your arms fling around his neck & you kiss him hard. So deep so passionate so intense.

“You’ve always had that Tim”

“I know, I just sometimes take it for granted” the way his hand strokes your hair sends a sensation down your spine. His lips are soft as the keep making contact with yours.

“Do you…”

“After this” he moans as he reaches the hem of your fleece top, always a man who knows what he wants. A man who gets results. He might not be in his detective gear right now, but it wasn’t the detective fantasy you fell in love with 8 years ago. It was those big eyes, that smoulder, the messy hair, the deep sexual voice, those large hands that make your body do extraordinary things. You love Tim Rockford, he never had to be a detective to get you in bed, although now that is sometimes useful.

Your pyjamas are off before his & he kisses your tummy. Your stretch marks always get the first kisses just before he slips inside you. You still don’t like them & always gasp when he kisses them.

“There’s nothing sexier than these baby, they made the two best things in my life, be proud” his top has gone & his bottoms follow quickly. His long length dripping already. You’re so aroused that you know you won’t need lube tonight. The way his hands caress your hips as he goes between your legs. You feel the tip tease your clit & the moan you let out has Tim licking his lip.”okay maybe that noise is, make that noise again” he breaches you. He’s not fully in but it has you hand clutching the pillow. He always makes you stretch. He likes to go in slowly & sensually. You oblige & moan again. “That’s my good girl, you’re on my nice list” the next rock he’s almost fully inside. You’re already clamping around him. He feels so good.

“a nice list?” You stutter.

“Yes” the next thrust he’s completely inside you & you cry his name. “You are such a good girl except when it comes to sex, then your naughty but you do that to make me happy” he raises his eyebrows as his next thrusts hits the soft spot. The one that makes you see starts. You close your eyes, pleasure taking over as he slowly rocks into you & your body responds enjoying each movement. Your eyes open after an extraordinary kiss. He feels even deeper inside you tonight. You’re extra sensitive to each graze inside your core.

He lowers himself so he’s all but lying on top of you. Just hoovering slightly. His hands grab either side of the pillow by your head. You lift your hands up & hold his face, & look directly into his eyes. The sweat glistening off his head. His body moving in a rhythm that’s unmatched. It makes you purr.

“Baby”

“Oooh baby”

It’s intense staring into each others eyes. The way he works his hips. Your friction against him has you whimpering.

“Ooooh yes yes yes yes don’t stop, keep going oooh fuck” your heart races.

“Oooh you like that, fuck you do” those massive brown eyes are the largest you’ve ever seen. He’s lost in his lust & desire for you. That turns you on even more.

“Tim oh Tim. Yes Tim”

“You take me so well baby” one of the hands stops gripping the pillow & lightly goes around your neck. Each thrust deep. It hits the spot without fail. You feel extraordinarily sexy as his grinds his teeth. The beads of sweat drip onto your chest.

“Keep going im so close” you just about get the words out. His grip tightens & you start gasping & he is pulsing. You’re sure the bed is creaking. You’re hoping no one can hear your collective moans.

“You wanna cum?” Tim growls as his other hand tugs at your hair. “Do you think you’ve earnt it? Do you want to drench me? Make me spill inside you?” you love it when he gets in the zone & starts using his menacing voice. Criminals cave in for this tone but you squirt when he gets it right. What brings nightmares for others makes you orgasm.

“Ye yea…. Yess”

“If I cum your gonna keep me warm, your going to sleep all night with my hard throbbing cock buried inside you. We’re gonna stimulate you so you stay wet & I stay hard. You’re gonna be cock drunk when you wake up on Boxing Day, my naughty wife.” You hear these words escape Tim’s mouth but they don’t make sense. You’ve lost all cognitive thoughts. Your about to scream so that everyone knows your husband has satisfied you. “Cum baby, cum for your hubby”

The way you scream Tim’s name is deep & low, because you are almost speechless. You gush & drench his length as he keeps going inside you. Even if you weren’t speechless, nothing could describe what you’re experiencing right now.

“Yes baby, that’s my girl, oooh fuck oooh god oooh yesssss” Tim screams. His hand squeezes once more around your neck, his sperm flows inside you, filling you up. His body also juddering, from the extreme pleasure. He sharply let’s go of your neck & you gasp for as much air as you can in 3 seconds before your mouth is occupied with his. Your bodies roll you both out of your highs, slow rocks to calm you down. His hands are in your hair & on your breasts. Yours are also in his hair & stroking that small little patch he has in his beard, your favourite place for cheeky kisses. Eventually your bodies do stop rocking & your collective panting goes quiet. There is a squelching noice from his penis still semi hard inside your.

“Baby” you eventually say & flutter your eyes open.

“Ooh baby in deed” he goes to roll off you & then remembers his promise. You moan slightly as he withdraws but he is swiftly back inside you semi hard, being your big spoon. Even like this he feels good inside you. Cock warming is often something you do as you fall asleep after sex.

“Was that the best Christmas gift?”Tim whispers.

“Well it’s either that or the watch?” You giggle as he moves your hair to the side to kiss your neck. Such small soft little pecks.

“See we can make everyone’s Christmas wish come true” he says. “Hang on you never showed me what you asked santa for”

“Did I not?”

“No we got so into the moment after my reveal that we forgot”

“Hmmm”you reach your arm out & grab your phone. A smile comes across your face. “Promise to not over react?” You say with a little snigger.

“Baby what could…” Tim then looks & the photo on the phone startled. He takes it from you & stares at it. He then throws it down the end of the bed. His hands trail down your body as harder kisses fill your neck & cheek. “Seriously?” You nod “but today? How?” He’s really shocked.

“I was in charge” you smile & turn your head around so his lips can find yours.

“My cleaver girl”

You slowly both nod off to sleep exhausted, his cock still inside you, the kisses eventually stop. His hand also stops rubbing his most favourite place of all. Eventually your phone screen turns off. Your wish was always going to be true.

For Jason & Grace to love their new sibling, who should be here come August.

#pedro pascal #fanfic #my fics #smutt #no minors #over18 #pedro pascal cinematic universe #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal fan fic #pedro pascal fandom #tim rockford fic #tim rockford fanfic #detective tim rockford #tim rockford #tim rockford fanfiction

[musubiki]

do you have any lore about the crow witch's guild? i'd love to learn more about them please! i'm especially curious about augury because he left his sister to join the coattails.

YEAH!!!!!!! THE SECOND BEST GUILD IN THE WHOLE STORY!!!!!!!!!!!!

So the crow guild backstory goes like this:

a sweet family consisting of three siblings: augurie (the oldest), murda (the middle child) and corven (the baby). for reasons unknown, their parents are no longer with them and so its just been the three of them together for quite some time, and they are very close. This guild follows the close family trope where your siblings are essentially your best friends and theres no one closer to you than them (think dipper/mabel)

Notes about the blackbird family: all of them are insanely smart (stemming from how crows are very smart animals). sometimes way too smart for their own good, and fighting them is always the kind of battle where its supper hard, not because theyre particular strong but because they have ridiculous amounts of strategy on the fly (in this case, murda is ALSO very strong)

They are one of the only guilds in the story where the guild master is not actually the witch (ie, shes not the "leader"). murda trusts auguries judgement more than her own, so she delegated the role of guild master to him

something to note before continuing is that in tcwg, theres a witch stereotype of "not having a son before a daughter". im not sure if this is something magic can influence exactly, but having a son first is always a worry because more often than anyone would like, the firstborn goes down the route of "it fucking sucks that just because i was born a male, i cant inherit this amazing power and have to watch it go to my stupid baby sister" (since males cant be witches anymore), and ends up doing something dumb like joining the coattails

anyway, this is (seemingly) exactly what happens here. at some unknown point in time after murda is already a witch, the rumors have it that her and her older brother had a falling out, and he has since joined the coattails.

another sidenote: the coattails now, in nature, are not something you can easily just...sign up for. most of them are unthinking and serve a single purpose of farming witches magic-- some have evolved enough to become sentient, and in some cases if you serve a similar cause as determined by the sentient ones, you can have the opportunity to corroborate with them (so far only notably achieved by amanita and augurie)

so after augurie leaves, he convinces the coattails he is an asset and that the purpose of the witch king appeals to him as it entails that males will once again be able to hold magic and he can kill his sister to get it. they buy this and he becomes an admin, ie he can lead legions and access resources they have

Corven stays with murda as her only guild member and they live in Ardovs Quarry (urban rainy town in the north of the kingdom), and are currently trying to get their brother back

When mochi and lime pop into this main quest, this is essentially how it goes:

corven met mochi and lime once before for an unrelated side quest, and considers them to be friends (even though they only met once but this is the tcwg style)

murda is reluctant to ask them for help, claims this is a family matter and its none of their business, and getting involved will cause nothing but trouble (true). but theyve exhausted all other avenues at that point, so with a little persuasion from corven, she agrees to let mochi and lime help

theres numerous steps to tracking down augurie, and every time they get a lead and encounter him he seems to be doing something that inches him towards some overarching goal (the in-betweens of the main quest are still up in the air, but its essentially bonding time for the two guilds)

the final confrontation is when they finally track him down to the "root" of the coattails located in the ruins of the old kingdom of the first witch king.

NOW--interrupting to talk a little about auguries magic guild item: its a scythe that reaps magic. theres little potion bottles on the end which can hold up to three different kinds of magic power that can be used independently for a short time after theyve been activated. so far in his scythe he has taken (throughout his time in the coattails) the following magic power: the magic of the snake witch, toad witch, and spider witch. the crow and cat are there with him, so all those together, they have the magic force equivalent to the witch king (for a short time, anyway)

at this point its revealed that auguries plot goes like this: the witch king brought the coattails to life with his magic, so the only way to properly control them or, as augurie corrects, to end them, is with the equivalent power.

augurie joined the coattails in order to get close to them, track down the root (which has been hidden for centuries), gather the main witches magic without putting them in danger directly, take it to the root and reverse the coattails origins spell as best he can. god knows where he even learned this was all possible, but thats the genius of the crow guild

im unsure if murda was in on this plot from the beginning, and pretended to have a falling out with him to enact the whole thing INCLUDING bringing mochi there for the cats power, or if she was oblivious to his intentions and he was acting alone and actually genuinely broke her heart to make the story more convincing

anyway, they actually are able to reverse the coattails origin spell!!! (lime and corven almost fucking die for real fending off an army of coattails while augurie/murda/mochi reverse the spell). the way it actually turned out is that any coattails still in the overworld still had their old "mission," but if they are purged and returned to the root, then augurie has full control to give them a new mission (which will eventually serve as the witches army against the witch king), so after the completion of this quest, the coattails are much less of a threat

afterwards, augurie returns to murdas guild and continues to look into the return of the witch king. he serves as the strategist/healer for the group and is like that main quest guy you go back and report to when youve made progress advancing the storyline that goes "Ah... so all these things happened when you went to [place] huh... no time to rest, heres the next step-"

#love!!!!! augurie!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #top 10 character honestly #bpp #lore #text #i love them... #this quest lives in my head constantly

[stephensmithuk]

The criminal courts of late Victorian England

Edit: I have made some slight corrections. CW for discussion of crimes, courts etc.

****

This does not cover Scotland, which has a rather different system. I believe it covered Wales as well.

In the 1890s, there were three types of courts someone charged with a crime could end up.

Police Court (London)/Petty Sessions Court (outside London)

These were based in each of the 'hundreds', the traditional divisions of the counties used for administrative purposes for much of the second millennium.

This is what the Essex hundreds looked like in 1832:

I live in the area of the Havering Liberty, then rural and now very much suburban, being part of the London Borough of Havering.

Chafford Hundred's name survives in that of the railway station that serves the Lakeside shopping centre and the Romford to Upminster Overground line will now be called the Liberty line. There is also a Liberty shopping centre in Romford and a Royal Liberty School.

The boundaries changed over time - as towns grew bigger, they would get their own 'petty sessional district'.

The Royal Liberty of Havering was an autonomous area of Essex, with its own courts and special exemptions from certain taxes.

Being a pretty small area with a low population before a housing boom in the 20th century, its existence was seen as an anachronism and it was on its way out in 1891; it would be fully incorporated into Essex the following year.

Romford's court in any event was located with the County Court on South Street, just north of the Great Eastern Railway station (still in use, but heavily changed inside). Looking at the historical maps, I think there's a Slug & Lettuce on the site now. The police station was close by; there may have been a tunnel linking the two buildings, but I would have to confirm that.

Anyway, these courts dealt with misdemeanours, with cases tried by one or more Justices of the Peace aka magistrates. JPs were generally unpaid and so they would often be people who could afford to do this stuff in their spare time. They'd often be local notables, like the main landowners, a rich doctor, a local priest, or someone who ran a factory. This may well have caused issues in bias.

This included things like:

A drunken punch-up outside a pub.

Domestic violence.

"Your dog bit my servant."

"You drove your cart too fast and collided with my shop window."

Solicitation i.e. prostitutes seeking business on the street.

Shoplifting, pickpocketing, burglary, and various low-level theft/fraud cases.

"You said in the newspaper I paid young men for sex" (Criminal libel, which is what Oscar Wilde charged the Marquess of Queensbury with via a private prosecution - and we know how that ended for him)

The JPs would try the case, decide on guilt or innocence, then decide any punishment; I believe the maximum possible sentence was six months. Solicitors would represent defendants.

Havering had exactly three JPs. The crime rate was pretty low in this rural area.

This 1887 article covers the workings of one London police court:

This court in Soho, which closed in 1998 and is now The Courthouse Hotel, would see a few famous names in the dock, including John Lennon (for indecency over an art exhibition, case dismissed), two Rolling Stones (fined for drugs possession) and Bob Monkhouse (for illegally importing films, acquitted at the Old Bailey).

They also served as the place for the first court appearances of people going to the higher courts like...

Quarter Sessions

These sat at the seats of each county and each county borough. The latter included places like Oxford and in the case of Essex, Southend-on-Sea after 1914.

Havering had its own quarter sessions until 1892 - the three JPs also doing these; it would then be merged into Essex. This caused a few jurisdictional issues when Essex courts charged men for crimes alleged in Havering and some cases got quashed for that reason.

For Essex, the Quarter Sessions were held at Shire Hall in Chelmsford; this closed entirely in 2012 and is now being redeveloped. In 2024, it featured in the Channel 4 documentary series The Jury: Murder Trial.

They were traditionally held four times a year - hence the name. Unless you could put up the sureties required for bail, you were going to gaol, at least until the next session. Romford had a small gaol, but it was generally more convenient to send people to Chelmsford, where the prison still operates.

Quarter sessions dealt with more serious felony cases, like armed robbery, serious assault, poaching and forging banknotes. Cases were presided over by two or more JPs, with a jury making the decision on guilt or innocence.

By 1891, most of the administrative functions of magistrates had gone to the new County Councils, but they still dealt with alcohol licence applications.

However, these courts could not deal with capital-level offences, at this point pretty much reduced to murder, treason, and piracy. These would be handled at:

Assizes

Happening twice a year in each county, these also dealt with civil matters, which are outside the remit of this post. Since these dealt with capital crimes, bail was pretty unlikely.

The country was split into six judical circuits with professional judges travelling around between the courts, often accompanied by barristers. This might sound pretty familiar to American readers; Abraham Lincoln was a circuit lawyer in Illinois and the US court system remains divided into circuits, but the judges don't ride on horses anymore. Insert your own jokes here about the judge of your choice.

Essex fell under the Home Circuit along with four other nearby counties - Middlesex had been joined up with the City of London by this point. This appears not to be linked to the term "Home Counties", which covers some areas outside.

Once the judges arrived, they would impanel juries and try all the cases before them. Only barristers could represent defendants here, I believe - a solicitor would instruct a barrister if a client were facing the Assizes.

The historical Havering gallows had been near Gallows Corner, but it had stopped being used by 1815. Gallows Corner is now home to a notorious roundabout. Chelmsford was where hangings for Essex took place.

In summary

If you punched someone in London, you'd go to the police court.

If you broke their leg, you'd go to the quarter sessions.

If you killed them, you'd go to the Assizes and quite possibly soon to the highest court of them all.

The end of the system

In 1972, this system was abolished. The petty sessions courts became magistrate's courts, with the quarter sessions and assizes combined to form Crown Courts.

Romford Magistrate's Court today sits on Main Road, next door to the police station and in close proximity to Havering's Town Hall. It covers cases in the surrounding areas to Havering as well.

The nearest Crown Court is at Snaresbrook - it's the biggest in the country with no less than 20 courtrooms.

#letters from bunny #letters from watson #history #factoids #courts

[the2ight2eer]

Alledia, in this version, is split up into 7 countries:

Windsor

Coco

Lufen

Nautilus

Frontera

Kanalis

Gulfeńn (which is split into more regions, or provinces)

(I will draw a better quality map someday 😔)

I made the map a little less of one big supercontinent, and I thought that making this world feel a little bigger would help make this story feel more vast without needing to leave the planet (I am never forgiving Kazu for that goofy ending in book 7, it literally came out of nowhere)

I will update this map later (I’m going to move the mountain range in Gulfeńn to the coast, so that geographically it makes a little sense as to why that whole area is an arid desert, and extend the mountain range up up north a bit)

During the war all the western countries are known as the Common Alliance (or at least, it will be if I don’t think of a less cheesy name). The best way to think about these countries is this:

(The flags are a bit ugly, but I tried my best 😭)

Windsor:

NOT occupied by Gulfeńn yet

the superpower of the CA

It’s really cold up there

Like… wet and cold

This place is just 1940’s England

Their national animal is the whale

I imagine Windsorian cities looking like Dunwall from Dishonored

Coco:

I haven’t come up with much other than it’s a small nation with not that much to offer in the way of trade, and was actually going through negotiations to become a part of Lufen before the war

Not occupied by Gulfeńn

Nautilus:

They are only partially occupied by Gulfeńn

The “front line” country

A lot of citizens have been displaced from here

This country (in my head at least) reminds me a little of Ireland

Frontera:

Completely occupied by Gulfeńn

A lot of elves actually live here

Human-Elf relations here is a lot more chill than in… say Windsor

Kanalis:

Also completely occupied by Gulfeńn

Basically if Chicago was a country

I always read Enzo and Rico’s lines in a Chicagoan accent, because they have Italian names 🤷‍♂️

Lufen:

‘MERICA RAAAHHHH 🦅🦅🦅

Idk, I have it in my head that this is cowboy country

This place is a lot looser than The boarder countries or Windsor

It’s a bunch of farmland broken up by forest, plains, and towns (kinda like where I live)

These guys are technically neutral, but have been sending supplies to Windsor

I will have a separate post for Gulfeńn (and why I am spelling it like that), but for now I want to focus on the human countries.

You might be wondering… how exactly did humans end up on Alledia anyways? Well my friend, I have a surprisingly simple answer for you!

I don’t fully know :/

I’d like to think they stumbled across the “Gate” (or portal thingy that Emily stumbled into) at some point hundreds of years ago, and adapted accordingly… but that leaves a couple of plot holes (how did that many people fit through the Gate? How did people of that many different cultures come all at once?) so let’s just not think about that for now 😅

The time period in which this will be set is more so in the 1930’s-1940’s. Because this is fantasy, we don’t have to be exact, and we can be a bit more flexible with “historical accuracy” or whatever.

I feel like a war oriented story such as this would benefit more from a Dieselpunk aesthetic. That way we have a bit of the modern age to work with, in terms of technology, and a thematic framework for the story right off the bat.

Here is an example of Dieselpunk! This piece is called Gray Monster by Jakub Rozalski:

I think mechs, blimps, and wartime would work perfectly with this genre of punk

final quick note, in my version of this story there are a couple different powers at play: The Common Alliance (bad-ish guys), The Resistance (okay guys), Gulfeńn (bad-ish guys), Ceilis (meh guys), and the Luna Moth Crew (good guys!)

Remember, this is an ongoing WAR. It is NOT a good time to live in Alledia, and the world should feel as such. With that being said, this is not going to be a “gritty” depressing story. I still want to capture the magic that the early books had. We can still have some fun with it!

Let me know what you think and if I should change anything :D

#amulet series #amulet comic #Cam’sAmuletRewrite #kazu kibuishi #duuuudeeeee this took me so long to get the formatting to work 😭 #Tumblr ATE like half my paragraphs #anywho… I am super stoked to share my thoughts on elven culture #’cause that’s kinda what started all this #and then after that I will show y’all my redesigns! Which I am also super stoked about

[cynopter]

Orange Peels on Fire: aka Townsend lore

because someone asked: here's a big dump of stuff about the story Townsend is from, i.e. the narrator of Choker!

Major TW for suicide/hanging, and obviously OCD.

Also, heads up that it's a really silly, REALLY emo story about ghost hunting lol.

Townsend is the deuteragonist of a (really extremely unfinished) story I had, that was provisionally called Orange Peels on Fire (opof). I started working on it when I was watching a lot of Demon Slayer, and it was basically my attempt to create a cast of shounen anime characters who were all girls but look exactly like the typical shounen anime protagonists. (I mention Demon Slayer because I took a LOT of inspiration from that - at times I described it to people as a shitty lesbian Vietnamese Demon Slayer knockoff... wow it's like it was made for me!!!)

A lot of lore is super wishy-washy because I did like the OG concept art in 2021, then I just kinda fucked around until 2022 when I revamped it for a screenwriting class. I don't really consider either version more canon, but I did a lot more work on the screenwriting version so I'll just describe that :P

Setting

It's set in post-apocalyptic US (either Virginia or like California but I couldn't commit because I've never seen California). A lot of the human population is gone - old civilization is being reclaimed by nature and the surplus oxygen means that there are also giant bugs now who take a lot of the niches previously held by mammals (like mice, dogs, deer etc). The oxygen is also how I campily explain away people being able to do epic anime jumps and stuff lmao. This, plus global warming, also means that the middle of North America now has a sort of tropical climate.

The part that actually matters is everyone in the US lives in tiny villages created out of suburban neighborhoods, and they're constantly having Ghost and Monster Problems of some nature because society has forgotten how to properly bury the dead --- and also because that apocalyptic event 100-or-so years ago caused so many ghosts to be created.

Phượng Lê

The protagonist is Phượng Lê, an 18 year old girl who can see ghosts. She's a triplet, with a living brother (Thanh) and a stillborn sister (the titular Cam / "Orange") who she's always seen as just a normal sister because she's a ghost that lives with them.

(All three of these characters are from a depressing realistic fiction short story I wrote, which I personally consider to be their "true" versions, but I imported them into this because I thought it'd be stupid and funny to turn a story like that into a shounen anime lol)

This is what Phượng looks like! (modern on left, old on right)

She's struggled with depression her whole life, partially because everyone thinks she's a sad and delusional pyromaniac for acting like she has a living sister (whose bones she keeps in a box) and for burning stuff to send it to her. Because of that she puts a LOT of stock in Cam's happiness because keeping Cam's ghost kind of cost her everything (including her parents abandoning them etc).

Cam's remains get stolen one day and long story short, Phượng and Thanh end up traveling around the country trying to solve ghost problems, scooby-doo style, in pursuit of the person who stole them. There's like a different category of ghost every time, based on Vietnamese folklore. (And if you're wondering, Cam's bones are valuable because stillborn baby remains can be used for evil magic, which is of course what the evil people in this story want to do).

That finally brings us to...

Townsend! (aka May Hoàng)

Townsend has pretty different lore between 2021 and 2022, but again I'm going with the latter because I've spent more time on that.

In the story:

She's a self-proclaimed "evil ghost" who haunts a tree at the edge of town. Phuong comes to her to ask if she's seen Cam; Townsend is surprised to meet a human who's friendly to ghosts.

She lightly antagonizes P & Th (in what is later revealed to be an attempted suicide-by-cop type thing) and runs away from them a few times before finally deciding to join their team. (In some versions she has to pretend to be human to deceive Irene, the secretly evil lady helping P & Th out).

Originally I had her birth name as Townsend - in the most recent iteration, this is a nickname Phượng gives her through this miscommunication:

She's the only member of the team who can actually, you know, touch ghosts? (Except when Phuong goes all danny phantom on their asses but I don't need to get into that).

Despite this, and despite the fact that she constantly threatens to kill people*, she basically bursts into tears at the thought of enacting violence on people/ghosts, so she ends up just serving as their strategist **(as the only one who isn't kind of dumb lol).

* Her catch phrase is basically "Don't touch me, i'll kill you." This is really emo lol, but what you find out eventually is this is actually a warning and not a threat.

**Specifically, because Thanh is the only one with absolutely no ghost powers, he has to use weapons made by Phuong, and because Phuong is like the main character, Townsend and Thanh have to work together to strategize & fight in the background. That's a whole arc because Townsend is a coward who doesn't want to be in fights, and Thanh doesn't trust Townsend because she constantly threatens to kill him and Phuong. Fair, I guess.

Townsend's backstory:

She's supposed to be this fundamentally irrational character, who eventually becomes a love interest of Phượng (they're both lesbians) but still never brings herself to stop antagonizing her whenever they get too close. After months and months of working together, Phượng finally gets Townsend's backstory:

She was originally a 17-year-old girl named May Hoàng, who lived in a town next to Phượng's. She suffered from something that we would in modern times describe as OCD, but had since been forgotten by society because of the apocalypse (rip). Her family was Catholic, and they didn't think much of her earlier obsessions (except that she was being annoying), but when she confided in them about her newest obsession about dropping and strangling her baby brother, Meri, they confided in the church - and eventually all the townsfolk came to believe she was being influenced by the devil.

May's parents kept trying to work with her, but eventually she ran away to hang herself.* In some versions, instead of going through with that, she conveniently gets attacked by a hangman ghost (which is how I really loosely translated ma thần vòng) right before that, who strangles her and she still dies. Fun!

*This is what's described in the beginning of Choker. In the original version, she runs away on the back of a giant-giant american millipede, as depicted on the cover, and that becomes kind of a faithful steed that they can all ride around on later.

Either way, what she didn't realize (I guess because she's Catholic) is that if you hang yourself and nobody finds your body, you turn into a hangman ghost, and can only pass on if you strangle a living person to take your place.

So..... obviously that's not going to happen.

Phượng & Townsend

May died about a year before the story starts. She was kind of hoping Phượng could just exorcize her, but because it takes about 3 seconds to realize May isn't actually a threat, Phượng refuses to do that.

Instead they kind of fall in love (shipname Phuongsend if you're wondering lol), and they eventually figure out she's just mentally ill and reinvent ERT or something.

Meanwhile, because of both Cam and May, the whole team is looking for a way to turn ghosts back into living people. I never decided if they actually succeed, but honestly I don't think they ever will. May committed suicide and that's just not something you can undo.

As foils

They both care a lot about each other, but that's despite (or maybe because of?) some very conflicting values. There's a little undercurrent of each trying to change the other's morals.

Phượng's mother abandoned her and Thanh because of her obsession with her sister, Cam, who was stillborn and never even got a chance at life. She's only leaving home now to find that sister and maybe even bring her back to life.

From Phượng's perspective, May HAD a shot at life, and somehow thinks she has the right to get it back even after squandering it. May also loves her baby sibling to death, but her idea of protecting him was to run away forever --- and to Phuong, that's just about the worst thing you can do to someone you love.

They were both treated as heretics, but Phượng reacted by getting a superiority complex and starting to hate everyone, while May still thinks everyone is fundamentally good, except herself. Phượng is (technically) a younger sister and constantly pushes back against Thanh's overprotectiveness, something May sees as disrespectful and scary, as an older sister who spent years obsessing over Meri's safety. Finally, Phượng's violent tendencies/occasional anger issues are something May sees as a big moral problem.

And.... that was a LOT. I'm not sure if I'll keep this post up honestly because there's still like a TINY chance I'll adapt this into something. But for now enjoy the lore dump :P

#my posts #my art #opof #townsend #phuong #rch #i really meant to put this on my main blog but oh well #also not to be serious on this post but i finally just got my official ocd diagnosis irl lmao

[innerchorus]

Okay I'm suddenly having Farangis brainrot and consequently have like, a bucketload of questions. Hear me out.

Was Farangis native to Khuzestan? Was she born elsewhere, sent to a temple from that region, only to be transferred to the temple in Khuzestan or was she from Khuzestan to begin with? I realize this is somewhat of a stupid line of question but whatever! My brain can't help it! I wonder how young she was when her parents died and she was sent to the temple, fairly young? 8-9-ish? Even younger? In her teens? I'm just now pondering in amusement how she ended up on the opposite end of Pars from her homeland— southwest to northeast. Also I planned to have her join the clan around the same time Ranna does: aka when she's about like, 13 and they 7 or so, and have them bond with each other as they get accustomed to their new home, but maybe I should move it up a little, but gah I've gotten so fond of the idea!

I'm not sure there are confirmed answers to many of these questions but let's have look at what the novels say! (These are exactly the sorts of things I wonder about too, so I'm more than happy to look into them.)

I don't recall seeing any direct reference to where Farangis was born. It could have been in the region of Khuzestan, or it could simply be that the cultural importance of the temple at the time was what led to her being sent there. It does seem that she was sent there to be raised immediately after her mother's death, though (her father died earlier, leaving her mother more or less a fortune, half of which her mother instructed to be donated to the temple after her death, while the other half was left for Farangis herself). Her mother asked that the temple support her daughter, presumably because there were no other relatives capable of providing for her, or perhaps because she saw being raised in the temple and becoming a priestess as the choice that provided the best future for her daughter.

The temple of Mithra in Khuzestan was built as a donation to mark the birth of Prince Arslan (ordered by Andragoras himself). Arslan was born in 306, at which time Farangis was around 8. So that's the youngest she could have been when she was sent there, and I do tend to think it was likely to be around that age that her life at the temple began.

This seems like a good place to talk about Khuzestan itself, since I mentioned that geographically it doesn't match up with the real life location. It is an area located east of Ecbatana, west of Peshawar Fortress and just north of the Nimruz Mountains. (That's not super specific, but the comment about the Nimruz range helps the most, especially because that's included on the map from the guide that covers up to Book 10)

(annotated map courtesy of the first fan translation)

As well as being just slightly above just above the Nimruz mountains, if Khuzestan is more or less mid-way between Ecbatana and Peshawar that would make it very close to Soleimaniye's location on the Continental Road.

The Chinese version describes Khuzestan as a 'small town' (小镇) but when checking the Japanese the novel is actually talking about the Khuzestan region (地方) which makes more sense.

Now for a little cypress diversion; we were talking about cypresses being planted around temples in ancient Iran, and although I didn't see a mention of it for the temple of Mithra in Khuzestan, the temple of Ashi in the Oxus region is surrounded by them, so that appears to be a thing in Parsian culture too. (Although this is a female-only temple dedicated to a different god, there's a little more detail of temple life in that section which probably applies to other temples like the one in Khuzestan too, so it's a good section to look at for inspiration for that.)

And also, since I may as well add it to this post after I think I forgot to mention it in comments yesterday, concerning the novel's use of the term magpat for a Parsian high priest, it hasn't come up in manga canon presumably because the time it crops up in the novels is when one of these high-ranking priests betrays Tahamenay's location to Hilmes, when in the manga Arakawa changed it to Husrab. In looking at that scene in the novels again I did see Tanaka gave us a brief description of what that priest was wearing; robes of 'gaudy gold and purple'.

Anyway, I think your proposed timeline for Farangis meeting Ranna in your AU would work! Perhaps the jinn told her to travel that way?

#arslan senki #the heroic legend of arslan #farangis #wolfpack au

[starlitdumbass]

Hi there! I hope you're doing well! <3 It's been a minute since you last posted, but you did mention being super busy. Thought I'd drop by and wave!

....

Sooo, I was thinking about a ShikaNeji AU that I had in the waaaay back of my mind (amongst many, many others) that was focused, in a very general way, about a Light and Dark dichotomy in which Neji and Shikamaru lived in, respectively.

For some reason, I picked up this idea, dusted it off, and fleshed it out a bit.

It all starts with a legend about the Tree of Light, which is massive and growing out of the mouth of a volcano, supposedly keeping an ancient evil sealed away. The tree towers high over the mountains beside the volcano (I was thinking a small mountain range with three peaks, the middle one the sealed volcano with the tree) and is where the Hyuuga clan (one of the Four Clans of Light) resides. The Hyuuga have wings and work with the other clans in protecting the Tree; typically the four clans are fairly strict in their traditions, as there is a fear of breaking or bending those traditions will lead to the Tree's destruction. (Spoiler: the traditions have no affect on that lol)

The Four Clans of Light are the Hyuuga (bird demons maybe), who reside within the Tree's thick boughs and branches; the Akimichi (perhaps best described as faeries? or druids), that live along the volcano/mountainside along the southern slope, a woodsy area that spreads into the valley at the base of the mountains; the Yamanaka (psychics and/or telepathics that are really good at growing flowers) live in the Yamanaka Valley and are typically seen as the first defense for the Tree and also look after the humans that have built up a large town just outside the valley; last, but definitely not least, the Inuzuka (...I mean, canonically Inuzuka are essentially one step down from dog/wolf demons from Inuyasha lol, so they can just be that step up) are spread out amongst the mountains, protecting the Tree's flanks.

To the North of the Tree of Light and its mountains is the Shadowed Wood. The entire area is always cast with the Tree of Light's shadow throughout the year and is mostly covered with clouds. Tales of no-so-good nature circle the Clans of Light, stories of boogeymen and darkness and sadness overwhelming those who enter. Typically spoopy tales to keep the kids from wandering off, but have grown over the centuries to be taken as stereotypical fact among the younger generations.

The Clans of Darkness are scattered within the Shadowed Wood; the terrain beneath the clouds diverse and covers a large area. The most elusive are the Aburame (...bug demons?? lol), where exactly this clan resides is unknown, but they are highly respected and seeing beetles is seen as a sign of good fortune; the Uzumaki (red-headed fox demons!) had been within the far north-eastern section of the forest, but haven't been heard from in years, with rumors of their leader, the powerful fox deity Kurama, falling ill; the Uchiha (up-their-own-ass cat demons) live among the humans within the village just north of the volcano, along the river that flows down from the mountains; everyone knows the Nara (deer/shadow demons) as most of the forest is their domain and they have been known to manipulate the shadows within a person's soul to their own ends, thus are avoided by the general populous.

That's a general overview of the world building. Wish I could focus on writing anything these days lol.

The idea is that Neji is the bodyguard to the disgruntled Princess Hinata, who was declared to have a "weak" spirit at birth, so was put on a path to be the Leader of the clan. While her sister had a "strong" spirit and put into training to be the Champion of the clan. Hinata struggles with her confidence, especially in front of her father, but is more open with her cousin.

Hinata and Neji are very close, more like siblings, Hinata calling him brother outside of Hiashi's earshot.

Neji believes in her strength, but has already been beaten down by the Hyuuga's Traditions, having witnessed his father's death from what he perceives as Hizashi's breaking traditions, and does his best to comfort her, even assists in her combat training despite Hiashi's protests.

Anyway, a surprise attack upon the Tree by the Akatsuki (a constant thorn in everyone's side; they always approach the Tree within a large, red cloud, because that's super cool lol) causes Neji to fall from the tree and land somewhere within the Shadowed Wood, one of his wings being broken during the battle. Guess who finds him?

Shikamaru, of course! XD

It's a story about seeing a new perspective and Neji realizing he can make his own choices and not rely on traditions or elders to dictate his life.

....

I think that's all I wanted to share on this go. Again, hope everything's going well for you!! Thanks for reading my rant and have a great Morning/Day/Afternoon/Night!! <3

Oooooooo I LOVE THIS. Here's some little designs I threw together 💙💙💙💛💛💛

(sorry they're kinda janky)

#ask #i love fantasy aus i live for them #never be afraid to AU dump on me i will cry tears of joy

[anthrofreshtodeath]

28. surprising them with their favourite treat

Let's do it! I am an ancient New England grandma when it comes to my taste in candy, so I'm pretending Maura is, too. Here we are:

___

Jane steps out of her unmarked and into the blistering heat of the Market Basket parking lot over off of School Street, her car one of a few dozen here on a Thursday afternoon. She slams the driver’s side door, too, just for good measure. She pops her gum, chewing with her lips closed like she’s got an attitude, because she fucking does.

She’s also got an interview over by BHCC in Charlestown, and that’s why she picked this Market Basket, even though the whole reason she’s here is fucking Hope Martin. Maura’s unhinged biological mother is back in town, and had intercepted Jane this morning in front of her apartment building because Maura isn’t returning her calls. Jane had shut her down as politely as possible, all while wanting to call her a fuckin’ kidney-robbin’ cunt, but she’d held strong.

Not that she didn’t call her a fuckin’ kidney-robbin’ cunt the whole way here. Jane flips her aviators up onto the top of her head when she marches through the automatic doors, and prepares to stomp through her entire trip, but something about the air conditioning and the familiar smell of sheet cake calms her. Well, calms her just enough to pull the bat outta hell back in, at least for the sake of the other shoppers around her. And she thinks about making a left for the bakery and getting Maura a whole-ass cake, but she doesn’t want to get distracted, either. 

Hope is in town, which means Maura’s a mess, which means impromptu movie night. Most of the time, Maura likes to pull out the mixed nuts, the dried fruit, and the organic, stove-popped popcorn for their movies, but today calls for the big guns.

Maura would never admit it, but when she’s really down, processed sugar is the only thing that’ll do. That’s why Jane’s here, unbeknownst to Maura, and not at the Whole Foods down the street. She weaves through a couple old ladies and a mom with her two kids under two, swooping up a hand basket on her way, and scans the store layout for the penny candy endcap. 

Right there, on aisle two next to the prepackaged meats like hot dogs and bacon, sits the penny candy in all its glory. Late one night, after Constance’s first visit, Jane had dragged Maura to the store closest to her North End neighborhood and showed her exactly how to scoop all that old school goodness into a plastic bag for maximum satisfaction. Even now, Jane smiles to herself, big and pleased, because she’s got eyes on Maura’s favorites: the licorice bits, the butterscotch, and the bit-o-honeys. And Maura would never, ever, ask for this stuff, because doing so would defile her good girl, all-organic image, but Jane knows what Maura needs.

And tonight, Maura needs candy. Good, old-fashioned, bulk candy. 

So, she gets to scooping: a bag of each, because Maura doesn’t like them to touch, and then a couple bags of peppermint patties and jelly citrus slices for herself. Don’t ask her why, but the taste extremes make her all giddy inside. Sometimes she thinks about eating them together, though she hasn’t had the guts yet. With expertise and finesse and promise to try that another time, she ties them up and tosses them in her hand basket. 

She moves over to the checkout line, checks her watch because that interview’s in about twenty minutes, and taps the toe of her boot on the linoleum. There’s just two people ahead of her, not a problem. 

She chews her gum, cursing Hope again while she waits, but at least this time, she and Maura will have sweets to deal with the tornado. Maybe Maura’ll even consent to an action flick, or a comedy. Hell, Jane’ll settle for a rom-com if it means banishing Hope from their minds. 

Fuckin’ kidney-robbin’ cunt.

#otp prompts june 2023 #lauren writes rizzoli and isles fanfiction #rizzoli and isles #ok so there is not a market basket over by BHCC but there is a Whole Foods #so we're just gonna pretend its an MB where you can get more for your dollar LOL #I also fucking love penny candy #like I get giddy every time I encounter that section of the store even if I don't always get a bag #when I do there's always salt water taffy involved however

[heartlandians]

Amber Marshall on Her ‘Heartland’ Family, Overcoming Loss & Amy Finding Love Again

Viewers of the beloved drama Heartland have grown up with Amber Marshall. The actress, 35, has portrayed Amy Fleming for more than 15 years, over 250 episodes and counting with season 17 now in production. The series, based on the bestselling books, follows the Bartlett-Fleming family and is set in the picturesque backdrop along the rolling foothills of the Rockies in the fictional town of Hudson, Alberta.

Amy enjoys the ranch life surrounded by horses she has cared for and open space. Though the rural setting has been anything but easy living. Much like Amy, Marshall and the rest of the cast have dealt with their own share of loss. One of the show’s stars, Robert Cormier, who played her love interest in Finn Cotter, died last September after a fall.

Despite being the longest-running television drama in Canadian TV history, the show continues to build on its existing audience beyond the Great White North. Among the Top 5 Most Streamed Shows in the U.S., the series recently premiered season 16 stateside exclusively on UP Faith & Family. Marshall took a break from filming season 17 to reflect on Heartland’s longevity and generational connection, as well as tease what’s to come.

What’s the vibe on set for season 17?

Amber Marshall: We really have become quite the family because we have been together for so many years. I think back to that whole idea when you are in high school and your peers become your family. That has happened on set over the years. The funny connection between it is we are actually playing a family on TV. We genuinely care about each other. I just absolutely love the longevity of the show because it makes the character have so much more realism and history with other characters.

How do you look at Amy’s evolution?

It’s a rare opportunity that an actor gets to play a character for this long. To be able to grow as a person simultaneously with my character’s growth has been cool. It’s interesting to see how the writers look at what is going on in my own life and then will mirror a lot of the stories because I’m going through a lot of the same things at the same time as my character is. I remember when our showrunner at the time Heather Conkie was at my own personal wedding taking notes. I said, “Oh, we’re bound to see this on the screen in a year or so.” Sure enough, very similar stories took place. That’s also the best way I can prepare for my role because I am going through these things in my own life. When it comes on screen I can say, “Wow, I’ve been there and experienced this. I know exactly how I handled it emotionally and can bring that into my character.

Amy’s daughter Lyndy (played by Ruby and Emmanuella Spencer) is really starting to come into her own this season. You’re definitely seeing a lot of the traits and horse-whisperer abilities in her as Mom.

There are two twin girls who play the role of Lyndy, and they were cast on the show when they were six months old. They have literally grown up on the show, and now they are going to be seven this summer. I really do feel they are my family. I’ve spent so much time with these girls. I’ve watched every stage they’ve had and watched them learn and develop. That to me has been really rewarding. Not just as an actor, but as a mother figure to these kids. I think again that brings so much realism into the show. They bring such realism to the show.

The show was dealt a devastating blow with Robert’s passing. Your character was so intertwined with his character Finn as seen in season 16. Fans wanted to see these two end up together long-term. You talk about being family on set. How has it been moving forward?

To add to all of that, fans were so excited to see Amy start to fall in love again. To live those moments onscreen and have such a connection with Robert and his character Finn. We spent multiple days having all kinds of different story arc talks. We thought, “Okay, this is going to take us through the rest of the season and beyond.” He and I would talk about it all the time. He was such a great guy and so open and very honest to work with. The conversations were easy. It is so fun to be around him.

When we found out the news, it was devastating. It was one of those moments that served as a reminder that you never know when you’re going to lose someone around you. We all took a step back and used it as a moment to look at our lives and who we love and care about and make sure they know that. You never know. There is no certainty in life. That was kind of an eye-opener for everyone on set. In a way, I do believe it did bring us all closer together because you can’t take anything for granted.

Season 16 is currently airing here in the U.S. via Up Faith & Family. What do you like most about Amy’s journey?

I believe that season 16 allowed Amy the opportunity to move forward with her life. After the death of her husband Ty [Borden] (Graham Wardle), there were a few seasons we wanted to spend honoring his legacy and their relationship and connection. Fans who have been long-time viewers of the show know how strong that connection was and how important the relationship was for the Heartland series. I think it’s respectful to the characters and the fans to show the grieving process and go through the stories of now a single mom who had to put her daughter before everyone else. But in a way those times were really taxing because for myself playing a grieving widow was hard on me. Every day you’re coming in upset and trying to get into very dark places. Season 16 was finally where it became, no, Amy is allowed to move forward. She is allowed to be happy. She was given that time for her to grieve and for fans to grieve with her. Now it’s about her moving forward and opening up her heart again

There are theories that Sam [Langstone] (Shawn Roberts) is the new love interest. What can you tease about the future for him and Amy?

I think it’s always important when you have a female character who has been through love and loss to have characters that are always kind of there. When there is always that potential of asking, “Is there going to be something that happens?” You never know. That’s what keeps stories interesting when you don’t know the exact path the character is going to take. Sometimes there are certain things, even our own lives that we are just neighbors or friends or whatever we might see them as. Then a life situation might turn the corner where might actually view them differently. One of my friends. She is a widow and lost her husband. She always joked about her neighbor. Four years later she ended up married her neighbor. You never know what is going to happen.

How much longer do you see yourself playing Amy?

I love this character. Not even the character, but this lifestyle. Heartland has one of the nicest environments that I have been in when it comes to a film set. We primarily film outdoors in beautiful locations. Every day I show up to work it’s breathtaking. Yes, there are bad days when it’s snowing and minus 30 and we have to forget about that. Today it’s a hot, beautiful summer day, and we get to hang out with a great group of people and a bunch of horses all day. We’re at the ranch today. I don’t know if I could ever find a better job than this. It fits my life so perfectly. I live in Alberta. I love Alberta. I don’t want to be anywhere else. I will ride this horse as long as it’s here.

What do you attribute the show’s success and longevity to?

I think fans are really looking for a nice, wholesome, family show that they can sit down together and watch and not be worried about the content. Not have to explain things to their kids. That’s one of the biggest things I hear as far as feedback that people. That Heartland has actually brought their family closer together. The more I hear about it and hear kids will watch the show and call their grandparents to talk about it. That is their common thread. It’s something we can all enjoy and sit and talk about. In such a fast-paced world, where so many people are separated by devices and technology. Everybody is very disconnected, but they can still get together to sit and watch our show together.

Heartland, Season 16 is now streaming exclusively on UP Faith & Family

Source

#heartland #amber marshall #interview #season 16 #season 17 #tv insider #robert cormier #sam langston #lyndy borden #lyndy twins #UP FF

[winterpinetrees]

Lakeside Ghosts (The Gap Years Part Seven)

June 16th 2019

Crater Lake National Park, OR

Marin gets his first PoV! He’s having a rough time, and I’m having trouble figuring out how to write him. The nobility are Not Good People and he doesn’t have a Thing in the same way that the humans do. We’re both getting through it though. Someday I will have consistent formatting for these. I seem to be numbering the main plot and labeling the b plot. We’ll see if that lasts.

………

The four rich kids responsible for saving the world set up camp underneath the stars. The full moon reflects onto the lake, and there are enough people nearby that Marin isn’t worried about them being attacked. For the past 117 years, this place has been Crater Lake National Park. Seven thousand seven hundred years ago, it was a volcano that tore itself apart. The eruption collapsed its caldera into a lake, devastating the landscape enough to be remembered in human myth millennia later. In the parallel elven world, there are no myths for this place. The eruption was contained through magic, and their world had already industrialized too much to care about one mountain. There is a dormant volcano, but no lake.

But that is not where they are. Technically, Marin can switch between matching places on the two worlds at will, but that creates a signature that could be traced by their enemies. (The same signature would also be picked up by airport security if he tried to fly). Besides, right here, on the beach, surrounded by pine trees and gravel, would be underground in the other world. If he tried to leave, then he’d see stone and nothing would happen. If he forced himself to switch worlds anyway, he’d just die. Marin has worked too hard over this past week to throw that away.

Sierra Bracken pours water over their fire. She’s a different type of curious than Clay, with dark hair and constantly moving eyes. She looks more like a typical tame human than either of the boys, but certainly doesn’t act like one. Few humans in the elven world are as pale as Clay or have eyes as blue as Brian. None of them are as quick to insult elvenkind as Sierra. In contrast, Brian Whitaker is a stereotype of an ideal human. He is strong, enduring, and loyal. He is also, objectively, a very attractive young man. Brian recovered completely from his injury and has been a loyal companion for this entire quest. If Marin survives this (which is still highly unlikely), he’s going to try and keep him around. Lastly, Clay Shepard has waded into the lake and holds his hands under the water. Whatever spell he fell victim to had him standing outside for four hours, and the light of the sun from such a high altitude at midsummer burned. Marin remembers Sierra’s panic when she drove back with the empty car. They still aren’t sure why he was nearly abducted, but it was very, very, close.

They sped out of that town and drove north along the highway into Oregon. Marin kept an illusion over the car the entire time, so he doesn’t think they were noticed. He isn’t sure though. The three humans have gotten quite comfortable around him, despite their rocky start. Marin almost ruined everything with that mind control spell, but thankfully they all seem to have forgotten about it. Well, they had until Clay threw himself into the car. Ever since he described the feeling of a proper charm, the children have been on edge. If shrewd, skeptical Clay could be brainwashed, then they were completely vulnerable. Well yes. Exactly. Humans are strong, but short-lived and easy to manipulate. They were never going to be able to defend themselves. Marin has kept the three around for their skills and money and yes, because he does want friends, but they’re still human. Each of the children is missing something fundamental that even a spark has. Either the team fails and Apex Ishtar has them all killed, or they succeed and Marin takes over the world. There is no other way for this to end. Clay seems to already know this. The prince hopes to bring Sierra and Brian around before too long.

“Okay the fire is out!” Sierra yells. It is not. You can’t just pour water onto a campfire and leave. It’s a little sad to Marin how little knowledge of the outdoors the girl has. She’s a better engineer than any human her age he’s ever met, but she’s overspecialized. The three get set into a rage every time Marin slips and mentions tame humans bred to complete certain jobs, but she has a focus even more narrow than they do.

As expected, Clay yells back “No! You need to stir everything! We are not going to start a wildfire!”

“We’re by a lake and it rained yesterday, it’s fine!”

“I’d do it myself if I had working hands!”

The boy stomps towards shore. Life and death, Clay is a pain to handle. He’s observant and calculating, and somehow trusts Marin the least despite his correct opinion that humanity would be better off under elven rule. Marin doesn’t understand the love the boy has for rural towns and run down neighborhoods. He’s an exceptional boy. There’s nothing there worth his time.

And yet, the prince of elvenkind is starting to like this place. He’s watched Star Wars on a portable CD player and stopped at two dozen different little stores. The humans call out the states on license plates with legitimate pride, before immediately turning around and mocking the nation. It’s a mess, but Marin is starting to understand what his mother sees in this place. What she saw. His mother is dead. She was killed by Ishtar Mercuralis during the coup, and his father is dead too. He was never particularly close with either. Like many noble marriages, their partnership was a planned match for good genetics. Unlike most nobles though, they neither really liked each other nor made efforts to see other elves. Marin was born late, and never had any siblings. It’s an open secret that the throne will pass either to one of his cousins, or to him as a figurehead for Zerada to make the real decisions.

Marin doesn’t feel like he’s really seen his mother in decades. The woman who took him to human music festivals and taught him the stars was gone, replaced by an imposing figure with a clawed scepter-gauntlet and an helm that covered her eyes with blank emerald lenses. She claimed that this was what it would take to conquer the human realm, especially now that her twin was a dangerous traitor. Did Marin believe her? He isn’t sure. Marin secretly thought she looked like their ancestor, Lazarus, after he’d spent decades at war and was completely hollowed by the void. It was something though. Now he doesn’t even have that.

The full truth is even worse. If the casualty rate of this coup was as high as it was back when his mother was young and they took the throne from the Mercuralis, then Marin is likely one of the only Sondaicas left. He can rationalize losing his older relatives easily enough. They would all die fighting, and his grandparents' generation would all certainly be killed for their acts in the last coup. It’s his younger cousins that he worries about.

He has almost a dozen relatives who are younger than 150 years old. At least three are better candidates for the throne than he is. How many of those elves are still alive? Marin tries not to imagine, but by the lake it’s hard not to think of Liath and her collection of weathered stones. Her little brothers would be enamored by the convenience stores. He can’t imagine them killing Aster, the first member of the next generation who’s barely old enough to walk, but he isn’t hopeful about her parents. Marin has been talking to the humans like he’s heir apparent, but he really isn’t supposed to be.

Half of his friends from aligned genera are probably dead as well. He’s already told the humans about his betrothed, Zerada Adust. She’s better than him at everything, and has been in the human world for nearly a decade already. He expects Zerada to be alive somewhere, but her older sibling is at the Conservatory. Was? Is Jezero dead or captured or at large? Marin last remembers him by a campfire like this one. It was last year during the summer leave. They’d dyed their hair red to match the Wildfire Army, and Marin had to admit that they looked very good. What about Kova and Amaranth and Mav from Gens Marolak? Their parents? Their aunt Devana? Whenever a graduate of the Conservatory kills an elf, they mark the death on their vambrace. The lists of names are declared along with the surrender. Marin has a concrete way of learning who is alive and who is not. He just can’t find that list without walking into an elven settlement.

The prince already knows how this is going to end. He needs to know who is dead, and he’ll risk winding up on that list himself in order to learn it. The Sondaicas are all illusionists. Just like how the Mercurali move the earth and the Tiercels fly at nearly supersonic speeds, his line know how to manipulate light and minds. If he’s lucky, they can go to Vya under some sort of disguise, find the list, and then get out. Maybe then he’ll be able to find more allies and make a plan to survive the next few months.

The humans have all gathered around the dead fire. They’re saying something about a smokey bear that stops wildfires and scraping the last embers off of the logs. Tomorrow, he’ll work up the courage to call Zerada. She’s almost definitely destroyed her phone to avoid being tracked, but it’s worth a shot.

He really hopes all of his friends aren’t dead.

………

hehe im mentioning so many things that will be important later. writing oc stuff for an audience of two people is quite fun, actually. if anything contradicts itself, then i’m honored that you noticed.

#by me #the gap years #my oc stuff #writing that *is* #the road trip