#yes i am fully aware of exactly how pretentious this sounds

[gutsfics]

tbh i think that the "is ai generated content art" argument is roughly the same as "is Duchamp's Fountain art". i think that the argument of if its art is what makes it art, because it is invoking some kind of feeling. starting a conversation. if that makes sense?

that being said, absolutely there is a time and a place for it (ie not replacing the work of paid artists). and it should only be trained on artsts who have consented to it.

i dont want to read fiction made by ai bc if you didn't take the time to write something, why should i take the time to read it? and for non fiction, it'll be riddled with incorrect facts because an algorithm "decided" that this word is the most likely to go next in the sentence based on what it's database says, even if its factually incorrect.

one of my favorite pieces of art is an ai image that was sent to a company that makes paint-by-numbers, and then filled out by a person. the artist, tumblr user rigatonidanza, asks "is this art? at what point does it become art? can it never be art because its ai, or because its paint by numbers? is it art because it elicits a response from the viewer?"

the point of art is to make you think, and to make you feel. does it stop being art if its not made by human hands, the way algorithmically generated images are? is it not art if its something mass produced, made for intentions other than what the artist uses it for, like Fountain? even if looking at it makes you feel something? anything? even if that "something" is a negative emotion?

all that said. if you use generative algorithms as an excuse to not pay real artists, you are a human tar pit. may you always immedeatly stub your toe after it stops hurting from the last time you stubbed it.

#yes i am fully aware of exactly how pretentious this sounds #i think generative algorithms are a tool. one thats being severly missused every day. but still a tool #also ngl i do like the ai->paint by numbers bc the image tumblr user rigatonidanza chose for it is kinda funny as hell #but thats not the point here. maybe it is though bc thats Another Emotion #ALSO. THIS IS BY NO MEANS ME SAYING I SUPPORT GENORATIVE ALGORITHMS AS A CONCEPT. #my last boss used algorithms to make art even though *he had a human artist on his payroll* & i wanted to rip his face off like a chimpanze #he also encouraged me to steal 3d assets for the game he wanted me to help him make. genuinely all around kinda a scumbag lol #@ any and all techbros who may see this: i hate you i hate you i hate you ihate you i hate you #also: images generated from algorithms being art does Not mean that i like it. theres very few ai images i actually like

[seanfalco]

Mistakes Were Made

Fandom: The Witcher Punk!AU Pairing: Punk!Valdo Marx x OC [ Aevryn Swift ] Word Count: 2770 Rating: E a/n: Another installment of the Punk!AU, requested by dear Kat.  I am aware how incredibly self-indulgent and tbqh niche this fic is, so I’m not really expecting much, but I’m fully sailing this disaster ship now and there’s no stopping it. Taglist: okay I’m gunna only tag @ficsandcatsandficsandcats bc i have a (1) fear.

[ Part II ]

——

“Aevryn?  Aevryn, is that you?”

Shit.

Shoulders tensing unwittingly Aevryn fought the urge to make a hasty exit, but it was too late now.  He’d already seen her.  And she’d know that voice anywhere.  That stupid lilting pretentious self-assured drawl that still managed to make her stomach flip.

Forcing a smile Aevryn turned from the bar.

“Valdo,” she greeted tersely, cursing herself for letting her gaze wander just a fraction too long; noticing things she didn’t, shouldn’t care about.  He wore his dark curls longer than he used to, though it looked good on him and at least his facial hair was the same, roguish and trimmed to perfection.  

Black lined emerald eyes lit up and a grin spread across his lips as he sat at the bar stool next to hers, taking her strained smile as an invitation.  This close she caught the earthy scent of patchouli and cloves, the smell so him that a tide of unwelcome nostalgia washed over her, threatening to carry her away.

“It’s been a while,” Valdo observed, his unwavering gaze taking her in.  “You look good.”

Snorting softly as she shook her head Aevryn bit back the scorching reply that nearly sprang to her tongue.  “It has been a while.  Not nearly long enough, it seems,” she said instead.

A rueful chuckle left Valdo’s lips as he motioned for the bartender, catching the man’s attention.  “Your drink of choice still the same?” he asked, glancing over and Aevryn nodded.

“Some things never change,” she answered with a pointed look.

Not rising to her goad he instead flashed a charming smile at the bartender.  “A gin and tonic please, and a rum and coke for the lady.”

As the bartender left to mix their drinks Aevryn couldn’t help but notice the way Valdo’s eyes followed the man appraisingly and she scowled at the sharp pang of jealousy that knotted her stomach.  As soon as their drinks were in front of them Aevryn downed nearly half her glass as Valdo watched over the rim of his own; perfectly sculpted brows rising with interest though he didn’t remark on her behaviour.

“So, what have you been up to lately, Aev?”

Setting her half empty glass back on the bar with a heavy rattle of ice, Aevryn laughed bitterly.

“As if you don’t know.”

Spreading his hands, Valdo adopted an innocent expression.  “Bold of you to assume I pay attention to the intricacies of your social life, darling.”

Head tilting heavily, Aevryn couldn’t stop the exasperated eye roll that followed.  “Oh please Valdo, spare me your bullshit.  I know you’re only here because Vicious Mockery is performing tomorrow and you’re trying to rain on their parade.”

The swiftness with which he averted his eyes and brought his drink to his lips was all the confirmation she needed and Aevryn smiled smugly, the amusement not touching her sea green eyes.

“Called it,” she quipped, taking another drink.  “Like I said, some things never change.”

Silence fell over the pair and as Aevryn finished her drink Valdo ordered another round.  Glancing at him suspiciously she took it.  Knowing she probably should have just walked away, something about the way Valdo kept staring into his drink and chewing his lip made it seem like he had something else he wanted to say, but maybe wasn’t inebriated enough to voice it yet.  And though her better senses, which strangely enough sounded like Jaskier, were screaming at her to just go back to her room, part of her wanted to hear what he had to say.

On his third cocktail Valdo finally turned to her, his face unusually somber.  “I listened to the songs you released.  They’re good.  Really good.”

Aevryn shrugged uncomfortably at his praise --mostly uncomfortable with how much his words made her chest ache with pride and how much she’d wanted to hear those words from him.

“Thank you,” she murmured, looking into her drink.

“I never thought you’d share your music with the world,” he observed and Aevryn cleared her throat awkwardly.

“Well… I had a bit of a push and a lot of support.”

“Who--?” Valdo asked, cutting his question short with a scowl as he realized who she meant, bringing his glass to his lips.  “Are you sleeping with him?” he asked, more of a demand than a question and Aevryn frowned at his tone.

“That’s really none of your fucking business anymore,” she snapped, anger heating her face.  Sighing forcefully she decided, despite that, it wouldn’t hurt to set the record straight.  The last thing she wanted was for rumors to start spreading that she and Jaskier were a thing.  “For the record, I’ve never slept with Jask, and I don’t intend to.”

Valdo opened his mouth, but Aevryn talked over him, wanting to stop any more questions before they were even voiced.  “He’s seeing someone and I’m happy for them.  She’s a lovely girl,” she insisted.

“I heard she��s just a fan,” Valdo managed to grumble derisively before Aevryn shot him a disgusted look.

“What?” he asked indignantly.  “It’s just, I doubt it’ll last.  It never does with fans.”

He seemed to realize that was the wrong thing to say as soon as the words left his mouth, wincing at the dark look that crossed Aevryn’s face.

“Well, you would probably know better than most,” she remarked coldly, tipping back her drink.  Dropping the glass, hard, she turned back to him.  “Since we’re catching up, who are you sleeping with?” she asked pointedly and Valdo cleared his throat.

“Does it really matter?” he asked, giving her a level look.  “What do you care?”

“I--” Aevryn opened her mouth and shut it, freezing at his question.

“Do you care?” he pressed, leaning forward; bottle green eyes boring into sea green, his sharp feline-like features intent.

“I um,” she balked, inwardly panicking at the conundrum she’d put herself in.  “I don’t care,” she replied firmly, holding his gaze.  But it was too late.  He’d seen her hesitation and he knew what it meant.

A roguish grin spread across his face as he regarded her, leaning in to speak directly in her ear, his breath ghosting over her skin.

“I can tell you who I’d like to be sleeping with.”

Fuck.

——

Simultaneously too buzzed and not buzzed enough, Aevryn stumbled into Valdo’s hotel room with him following close behind.  Not even bothering to flip on a light, he turned, capturing her lips in a ravenous kiss as his hands at her waist slipped under the hem of her t-shirt, pulling her forward to resume what they’d started in the elevator.

Despite her earlier vitriol, or perhaps fueled by it, Aevryn took the lead, walking Valdo backwards, her hands tangled in his hair tugging roughly and her tongue sliding eagerly between his parted lips, swallowing his resulting moan with fervor.  Fighting with his cardigan as he backed up, Valdo finally shed it, letting it drop to the floor.  His tank top and Aevryn’s shirt swiftly following.

Stopping suddenly as the back of his legs hit the bed Aevryn pushed him backward onto the neatly made gold duvet, climbing over him and fixing him with a challenging stare.  Cocking an eyebrow as he stared back, Valdo smirked, his gaze traveling hungrily over her half naked form.

“If that’s how you want to play this Aev, then let’s play,” he purred, rolling her to her back without warning and pinning her arms to the bed as he leaned over her, so close and yet so far.  Because struggle as she might, she couldn’t break his grasp, and his lips hovering just out of reach taunted her; his warm breath maddening as it danced over her skin.

“Tell me what you want, Aev,” he teased as she struggled.

“Fuck you Valdo,” she hissed instead; anticipation coursing through her, driving her crazy.

“Oh we’ll get to that soon, love,” he murmured, “but first…”  Leaning closer he dragged his lips against her skin, tasting her as he made his way slowly to her collar bone, his tongue forging a blazing trail as he moved back up to her neck, pausing to draw her earlobe between his teeth before switching sides.

The hiss of pain that left Aevryn’s lips turned to a moan as she squirmed under Valdo’s rough kisses, certainly leaving a trail of dark marks against her pale skin.

“You - better not - be leaving - any - fucking marks,” she gasped angrily and Valdo pulled back, his face an innocent mask.

“If I did, will you punish me for it?” he asked, almost eagerly; his flash of teeth sending a thrill through Aevryn.

“Is that really what you want?” she asked, chest heaving as she glared up at him, her usually clear sea green eyes dark with lust.

“You know exactly how I like it, Aevryn,” he drawled, loosening his grip on her wrists, his gaze not straying.

With her hands free Aevryn soon had Valdo pinned under her once more, paying him back twice over for any marks he may have left on her; her hands refamiliarizing themselves with the planes of his lean body, drawing sweet gasps and sharp groans from him with her mouth.

Once she was satisfied with her work, she propped herself up as she hovered over him, sweeping her shoulder length hair out of her face, unable to completely banish the small smirk she wore at Valdo’s thoroughly pleased expression.  He always did so love to be teased.

“Ugh, Aevryn,” he groaned, heaving a breath.  “Out of everyone I’ve bedded, you’re still the best.”

Aevryn’s smirk instantly vanished.  “Is that supposed to be a compliment?” she bit out, eyes flashing dangerously.

“Yes,” Valdo replied.  “You should feel honored.”

Sitting up, Aevryn’s face was a thunderhead and Valdo half thought she was going to grab her clothes and go, but as pissed as she was she still wanted him and that pissed her off even more.

Hurling a slew of insults at him she fought to undo his belt and jeans as her desire practically throbbed between her legs.

“You fucking asshole.  You absolute pompous prick.  I fucking hate you, do you know that?” Aevryn seethed until they were both completely undressed and then, then Valdo had the gall to grin up at her, his palms slowly sliding up her body.

“Do you hate me?”

That was the last straw.

And in moments her mouth was on his with a bruising intensity as she grabbed his hard slim cock, guiding it to her entrance before quickly sheathing him in one fluid motion, forgetting just how long he was and gasping in surprise.  Taking advantage of her momentary shock he tangled a hand in her wild hair and tugged, pulling her head back to kiss her neck roughly as he thrust up into her, biting into her soft flesh with a growl.

Regaining her control she threaded her fingers into his short curls as well, tugging back just as roughly, bringing a cry to his lips as she met his hooded black rimmed gaze; her hips rolling against his, forcing his cock even deeper, frustration giving way to desperation.

“Come on baby,” he groaned, gasping as she yanked at his hair again.  “Fuck, you’re so hot when you’re being a bitch.”

Maybe it was the sound of his voice, or maybe it was the friction, but Aevryn’s climax crept up on her, pushing her over the edge before she expected it and she tensed, her muscles trembling as she bit back a moan, doubled over to press her face to the crook of Valdo’s neck, breathing in his scent as she came.

Holding her body tight to him, Valdo rolled her under him.

“Let’s see if I can make you come again, love,” he whispered before thrusting into her, relishing her overstimulated whine as he began to move faster, harder, desperate to finish quickly.  By the time Aevryn came again, a keening cry ripped from her lungs as her nails raked deep paths down his back, and he was coming as well, moaning against her skin as he filled her.

Completely spent, Aeveryn didn’t protest as Valdo collapsed next to her, pulling her into his arms.

“Fuck, you felt so good,” he murmured against her sweat slicked temple, her wavy hair sticking to her forehead and his.

Focusing on her breathing Aevryn finally opened her eyes, finding her pent up anger and frustration spent and she shifted, fitting her body to his, their chests heaving against each other as they caught their breaths.  Her muscles weary, Aevryn allowed Valdo to hold her, involuntarily relaxing into his touch as his fingers combed through her hair and stroked her back soothingly.

“It should have been me.”

His soft words caught her attention and she lifted her chin to look at him questioningly.

“I should have been the one to push you to continue making music.  I should have been the one supporting you.”  

“Valdo…” Aevryn whispered, unsure how to continue.  The old ache in her chest beginning to resurface.

“I was drunk Aev, it didn’t count.  I barely even remember it.” “That’s not how it fucking works Valdo!”

“Oh come on, you can’t leave me.  You’ll be nothing without me.”

“Well you know what?  I’m completely sober right now, so by your logic, this counts.  We’re through.”

“Aev?”  Valdo asked uncertainly.  “You there?”

“Uhm, yeah.  Just.  Just thinking about stuff,” she answered, trying to keep her voice steady.  

The last thing she wanted to think about right then after just having essentially hate sex with her ex, was their breakup.  Especially when lying there with him felt so right; his scent overwhelming her senses and filling her with longing for what she couldn’t have.  Because logically she knew this was a mistake… right?  Things could never go back to the way they’d been.  Not like that.  She had too much self respect to be treated like that again.

“Valdo…”

“You know, I miss you Aev,” he admitted, biting his lip, and she felt as though she’d never seen him like this before.  So open.  So vulnerable.  So unlike him.

Holding her breath she listened.  

“Losing you was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.  You know that, right?”

Before she could answer he shook his head sadly, hooking a finger under her chin and pressing his lips gently to hers.  The kiss was unlike any of the frantic, angry, desperate kisses of earlier-- it was soft and full of longing.  

“Do you think we could ever, I dunno… fuck, it’s probably a bad idea,” Valdo cut off abruptly, but Aevryn knew what he was getting at.

Shifting so she could look him in the eye she took a deep breath.  “Valdo, we have a lot, a lot of history… and if.  If you’re serious about… this.  Fuck, I don’t know, you’d have to prove it.”

——

Aevryn woke to her phone going off and disentangled herself from Valdo’s arms.

Fuck.

Getting out of bed carefully, so as not to wake him she quickly got dressed.  Pressing a hesitant kiss to his cheek she paused, watching his still face, confliction warring within her.  With a sigh she shook her head ruefully, penning a short message to him on the notepad on the bedside table before leaving the room.

Catching her reflection in one of the mirrors in the hall as she rushed back to her own room she faltered, swearing under her breath at the multitude of dark hickeys covering her neck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

How the fuck was she going to hide all of those?

“Where were you?”  Yennefer’s hushed voice echoed down the hall and Aevryn spun, her heart jumping to her throat.

“Yennefer!” she gasped, clutching her chest.  “Fuck, you startled me.”

The dark haired woman took in Aevryn’s appearance as she moved closer, violet eyes widening slightly.  “Jesus Aev,” she muttered with a sigh.

The disappointed look Yennefer shot her had her deflating.  “I know, okay,” she groaned.  “But--”

Yen held up a finger, instantly shushing her.  “I’m not going to lecture you, because let’s be honest, it was only a matter of time.”

“Hey!” Aevryn hissed, but deflated again quickly.  “Just.  Just please don’t tell Jask, okay?  He’d kill him.  Or me.  And right now I don’t know which would be worse.”

Yennefer nodded.  “Don’t worry, no one will hear of this from me.”

“Not even Geralt?”

“Not even Geralt.”

“Thank you Yen.”

The dark haired woman sighed, reaching out to wrap an arm around her friend’s shoulder.  “Let’s go get those fucking hickeys covered up first, huh.”

#punk!au #punk!jaskier #punk!valdo #valdo marx #punk!valdo x oc #oc: aevryn swift #punk!yennefer #smut #idek how to tag this lol #my writing

[bladekindeyewear]

Boots reads Homestuck Epilogue part... one..??

Alright, let’s do this.  As I’ve said, the page after this one is all I’ve seen, I’m diving in unspoiled.  Also I gather from some of the non-spoilery chatter I’ve heard from my friends -- one of which warned me this sort of thing was coming a couple weeks ago, and I believed them (but didn’t want to) -- that this first epilogue-upd8 may not be the only epilogue-upd8, which isn’t surprising either given how Andrew works.

Alright, let’s go.  Hope my stomach can take it!

So, Page 1, the mock-AO3 page that’s the only thing I’ve seen before posting this.  The content warning is EXCELLENT, and gives me hope that this will be the usual Hussie-caliber and more humorous than heartwrenching.  :)

It also makes some serious sense that there would be multiple epilogues; from the sound of the summary, this one might focus more on John and then leave ample opportunity to discuss the others.

Let’s click page 2 -- oh, or contents: “Prologue”, this being a chapter list for this is another way to do it.  Clicking Prologue.......

Okay wow, this is novel format for the moment.  Good chance it won’t stay that way.

These first two paragraphs are well-written and ominous, sure -- describing stuff we pretty much already knew was happening, in different words -- but even though the writing isn’t really pretentious, there’s still a good chance Andrew *views* it as pretentious enough to find cutting away to art-style instead hilarious.  Onto the third paragraph...

Music and Calliopes the other Calliope is conducting, yeah... Oh, there’s a garbage disposal reference.  In regards to a black hole.  Like the one I kind of pointed to during Dave’s intro sequence in the Third Scratch theory and stuff in all those big theories.  The ones I was, er, wrong about... ahem.  Moving on.

“Your name is John Egbert, and you have just had a terrible, deeply pretentious nightmare.”

Pfffffffff  :D

I love you Andrew Hussie.  Reading on...

YES I see chat colors. Chat colors!!! I need chat colors.  Reading reading reading let me get down to them let me

Absolutely nothing of note has ever happened here in the entire history of the planet, which you would know, because you created it.

Baahahahahah.  :D

Okay yes I’m at the phone-sterlog.

Uh oh.

I am reading elevated levels of angst compared to usual pesterlogs in this log.  Which is to say, virtually any at all, really.  THAT doesn’t bode well for the outcome/overall tone of this epilogue.  :X  --Not to say it isn’t *appropriate*, given they still haven’t fixed/resewn Paradox Space together, but... yeah, *future feels* are popping up on the radar, that’s what I’m worried about.  I loved the tone of the snapchats and the feeling that everything was going to be fine, especially given how the ending “not being what I expected” shook me a fair bit, but to look forward to when that may end... D:

Yeah, Rose having some serious visions about some unfinished business they need to get around to instead of just fucking around and living their lives makes sense.  :X  --or at least some timeline version of them.  I’m imagining they’re living varied, excellent lives in a whole TON of timelines of promise that commit our imaginings of their potential futures to virtual canon, really, with the main thread that ties off Caliborn’s stage play almost irrelevant in comparison... that was kind of the whole point of the Ending of homestuck earlier, of that final anime flash, the fact that the victory and planet and *lives* they won meant a whole lot more than whatever Lord English’s irrelevant machinations were.

So... returning to the tail end of that main thread and seeing how *serious* it might be....... yeah. Kinda mildly panic-inducing. :XXX

You move the phone away from your ear and assume an expression you haven’t practiced in years. It is the look of a man who actually has something to do.

Okay that was good.

Ah, he’s twenty-three now!

Let’s click the next link. ==>

Fuck let’s not recount Rose’s substance abuse.

Oh, cool. Er, “cool”. Rose is getting some of Rosejaspersprite^2′s awareness of all her alternate-timeline doomed selves and their lives.  No wonder she’s worried about the substance abuse she technically mostly *avoided* in this timeline.

Light explicitly relating to knowledge, good.  That’s a nice aspect tidbit to have reiterated.

ROSE: There’s a different scale I’ve come to understand. Another dichotomy that’s less... emotional, I guess? ROSE: Consider, instead of the word “good,” using the word “essential.” ROSE: And what exists at the opposite polarity from essential is... ROSE: Something that is best not to contemplate.

ooh.  oooooh. holy shit.

okay NO, BOOTS/BKEW.  DON’T GET FUCKING EXCITED.

DON’T get excited.

It only SOUNDS like she’s learned to recontextualize the whole adventure in the rich context of the classpect system, that’s just your wild fanfic-y theoryimagination talking.  Shoosh.  (Even though she IS very, very, *very* clearly referencing the Light/Void dichotomy with the above quote.)  Just... tamp down your hopes, Boots.  Leave it at MILD hope.  Like cool porridge.

Reading on.

Alright, yeah, this universe exists beyond the timespan of the Green Sun’s influence.  Unsurprising, since it was heavily implied.  And she doesn’t have access to her expanded Green Sun powerset while *in* such a universe, which was also heavily implied by alt!Calliope or her denizen or I forget the exact conversation where it said she’d have to make the final journey without Green Sun powers or whatever.  That’s cool.  (Though having it spelled out more explicitly than usual does make it more awkward to have her use her powers for humorous purposes on MXRP in the future.)

OOOH DAVE KARKAT AND JADE ARE IN A PERPLEXING SOCIAL ARRANGEMENT YESSSSS  :D

Best news.  Okay reading on.

ROSE: You will need to travel back into canon and defeat Lord English.

Yeah I guess.

Again, the way the ending sort of put it was that..... our heroes did have to defeat Lord English eventually?  Or set right some prior stuff like doing the stage play?  But that part of the point of this whole story -- the Ultimate Reward -- was that it didn’t really matter, because they had earned nigh-infinite branching timelines of promise in a brand new universe where they could go YEARS AND YEARS living their lives in many of the ways they wished, richly enjoying themselves and starting civilizations that would last billions of years, loving and living and experiencing, only “needing” to go finally check off these other responsibilities in a single timeline of promise at the end of an extended period of vacation they chose with no particular urgency.  Branching years-and-years of essentially heaven as long as they EVENTUALLY fulfilled that particular endpoint, and they knew it.  More or less.

Rose phrases it pretty explicitly, though.  John’s powers are the only thing that can warp people through canon like that without restriction, so he was always to be involved, but... *he* needs to defeat him?  Does that mean alone?

JOHN: yeah, i had a feeling that was going to come up again someday. ROSE: I’m sure we all did. That is, even those of us without visions. JOHN: i was doing my best not to think about it. i guess we can’t put it off any longer then? ROSE: Now is the time. We are rapidly approaching a point of no return. If the decision isn’t made soon, it will be too late. The issue will no longer matter. JOHN: when exactly is the point of no return? ROSE: Today. JOHN: wow. JOHN: ok then.

Ouch.

That’s slightly more abrupt than the picture of branching bliss I just painted.

JOHN: fine? ROSE: Of course everything is fine here. ROSE: We’re outside of canon now. JOHN: yeah, i know. what does that actually MEAN though? JOHN: are you saying this isn’t really happening? ROSE: Of course it’s happening. ROSE: Just because certain events take place outside of canon, it doesn’t mean those events are non-canon. JOHN: oh. ROSE: In other words, there is an important distinction between events which can be considered to occur inside canon, outside canon, and those which are not canon at all. ROSE: The day we went through that door and claimed our reward, we passed a threshold between continua marked by differing degrees of relevance, truth, and essentiality.

Well okay then.  I was wondering why she used the word “canon”.  They literally DID escape the narrative literally as *well* as figuratively with that Juju, then, Neverending Story style.

Also, Light being highly tied to canon and Rose having spent so much time outside of it... yeah, I can understand the headaches more, too.

Alright, reading on, it seems Andrew is using Rose to more explicitly explain how he intends all the non-canon stuff he’s presented to us to “matter”, for those who didn’t quite get or fully believe the implied explanation from context towards the end of the story.

Heh, so the idea is that the urgency comes from “it’s been too fucking long since the story ended, and this epilogue needs to come out when an epilogue would still matter to anyone”.  That’s kind of brilliant.

ROSE: As long as we live outside canon, everything that happens will technically be “real,” but only conditionally. ROSE: There are certain crucial events inside canon which must happen in order to continue to prop up the legitimacy of events here on Earth C. ROSE: And you specifically, John, have a responsibility to make sure those events take place.

Closing threads closing threads CLOSING THREADS :D !!!!!!

FUCK is this epilogue going to be mostly devoted to TYING UP LOOSE ENDS and clarifying stuff??? :D  Like the HUNDREDS OF LOOSE ENDS that were left unanswered because the ending tried to paint it all as sidelined/irrelevant regardless of the fact that they hadn’t been answered/fulfilled, which had previously pretty much traumatized me around Homestuck’s end because I was (1) so used to Andrew expertly tying up almost every loose end eventually and (2) was a theorycrafter with explicit investment in the idea that Classes, Aspects, and most of these loose ends actually DID matter???  :D

Sign me the fuck up!!!  :DDDD

...I know it’s doubtfully going to be anything close to all I hoped for, but still.  Answers, contextualization, and John tying up loose threads.  Like that final frog warped in front of Jade as a child.  That’s good, that’s VERY good.  I’m excited instead of nauseous.  :D

--and yeah, reading on, Rose makes more explicit what I said earlier that the justification Andrew’s painting for this is “we have to wrap up all these loose ends before everyone forgets about Homestuck.”  That is hilarious.

Okay, so the juju is a big plothole. Heheh.  We’ve heard it called that earlier.

...Oh.  Oh huh.

Rose is pretty much explicitly talking about the stage play consisting of a bunch of non-canon ALTERNATE VERSIONS of themselves that mean the original versions of them living happily in the new universe won’t actually die.  Holy shit.  I mean we theorized that for a TIME with some of them but THOSE loose ends (like Roxy still having her mask on) were closed up toward the end...  So instead, having it put THIS way (preserving our ideas of them living full lives post-victory), and not only that but having John DO all this stuff RIGHT NOW to fix things retroactively with some really well-written contextual clarification we’re bound to get to help with the closure... god DAMN.  This is really good.  This is going to make a LOT of people feel a whole lot better about Homestuck.  Like me.  :D

...Pff, some other girl is getting punched by John in the face again.  :D  Don’t worry, Rose isn’t saying that this is the Vriska punch at the beginning of the whole Retcon arc and that this epilogue somehow happened in the middle.  (I hope.)

...Yeah Rose implies heavily that John is gonna die his heroic death if he does this?  Or it’s meant to make us THINK she’s implying that.  Yeah.  And she feels pretty fucking horrible about what she’s asking John to go through regardless, so.  (Yeah, everyone looked pretty genuinely dead but a few at the end of the stage play, but it was pretty uncertain.)  Either way, she’s acting like John isn’t going to “come back”, even if he lives through this.

Stupid feels.

Clicking the next link.  ==>

Hiiii roxy and callie!!! :D

Yes how polite of them.

“Ultimate self”?  Yeah, a sort of synthesizing of all the offshoots of her Heart and Mind, pulling it all together and realizing the full person she is and sum of her whole experience across all timelines, pasts and futures.  Yeesh.  Pretty uncomfortable for someone who ain’t a hypersprite.

...Roxy and Rose aren’t as close?  Is it because of the substance abuse, because of the Light/Void dichotomy literally-or-metaphorically distancing them (with how disparaging Rose just was about anything that isn’t relevant), or something else?

Ah, Kanaya hogged her until she got “sick”, that explains some of it too.

A bell tower? (DOOONNNNGGG)

Fffff interpersonal relationship mildangst.  Fuck

You and all your friends have dispositions affected by your classes and aspects. You think you know what that means in your case. But what about her? You can only speculate. Void is a place where things sink and disappear. Where they linger forever, but cease to exist. You aren’t actually sure if your feelings for Roxy ever really faded, or if they just grew numb with time and distance. Is it the same for her?

Holy fucking shit.  What a big middle finger to everyone who told me aspects didn’t matter to their personalities.  :D

...Though, I think he has it kind of backwards, since he still doesn’t totally understand all this business.  It’s easy for those in canon, introduced to this subject, to think that the classes and aspects affect their dispositions, to an extent where the reality (at least I contend) is that it was their natural dispositions in the first place that the classes and aspects were actually describing.  The power that was latent in their very personalities and tendencies to action all along.

Reading... Ah, yeah, a choice.  Was pretty sure this terminology would be important earlier.  It depends on what SORT of choice this is though... see, so far, Rose hasn’t given John a lot of really EXPLICIT motivation to go through with this, other than some mumbo-jumbo that would supposedly be “bad”.  And it doesn’t even address the black hole in his nightmares.  And here, we have Roxy and others explicitly encouraging him with regard to the fact that he can choose NOT to do this if he wants to.

The main question it brings up (to the future of this epilogue, how it’s going to be considered afterward, etc) is if this is the sort of Choice that John would always say yes to -- in which case it’s more canon than anything else -- or if he will end up being on the fence enough for a Terezi-style Mind-split.  Because this would be the PERFECT out to have him “die” in canon.  See, if he’s on the fence ENOUGH about going, then he creates two timelines that even both potentially have promise within the confines of this universe (since universes hold more than one timeline of promise, according to one of the Calliopes I think)--  One where he lives here, happily ever after with everyone, and another where he completes his Heroic death in canon to fix everything.  It would let Andrew kill John in this epilogue while still letting him live out eternity with everyone else outside “canon”.

He’d get to have his John-death and keep him too!  Seems plausible enough.

Anyway. Reading... it looks like they know more about this decision that Rose has told them, including the consequences Rose might have been dreading.  And likely know that IF John might die doing this, that it won’t be in a way that he regrets.

Oh wow, that whole Meat or Candy sequence is GREAT.  Silly to the core, and yet perfectly emphasizing the debate that... well, I mean, think about what Andrew’s been telling us all along.

He keeps TRYING to tell us that non-canon stuff is fine.  Trying to use that huge ending sequence of Homestuck to try and tell us that the fact that everyone is FREE from this story and its confines, free for everyone to imagine COUNTLESS ways things played out afterward for ALL these lovable characters in carefree futures, is almost MORE important than any of these stupid loose ends.  But some of us were really cut by that ending, the insistence that the actual final battle “didn’t matter” and that this escaped-from-canon existence was the true victory.  But if Andrew just upped and drew a bunch of bonus pages to start explaining more story, THAT would cheapen the escape-from-canon ending he wanted even as it satisfied those of us who wanted ends tied up, who wanted questions answered.  He had to find a very careful, very well done way to give us BOTH.  To write out the real “ending” of “canon” for those of us who needed it, without compromising the ESCAPE from the very necessity of it that was the essential point he WANTED to make with Homestuck’s story from the very beginning.  To carefully keep the endless branches of post-victory possibility and play intact while still, separately and with explicit hedging and qualifications, give us the potential results of one last canon thread to tie up the lingering questions that he so dearly wants us to recognize still “don’t matter” as much in the vast scheme of things.

And he’s doing it.  And it’s WORKING.

Holy SHIT.

I am excited for Homestuck.  I am excited for Homestuck for the first time in years, and my nausea is gone.

I’m not going to start theorizing again; that’s over.  But I’m definitely going to keep reading as the new Epilogue chapters come out, and do so with a spring in my step.

To Be Continued.  :D

#Homestuck #Homestuck Epilogue #Homestuck Liveblog #bladekindeyewear #blastyoboots

[ineffably-good]

I Will Follow You Into The Dark (8/10) (GO Fics)

Go read the whole thing on AO3 - it’s done!

Summary: Crowley storms the gates of Heaven, and makes a bargain of his own.

Crowley emerged into the anteroom of Heaven. Like so much of Above, the anteroom was large, with soaring ceilings and crisp white walls, devoid of personality, and entirely freezing. It was also largely empty, which was a plus. He took a look around to orient himself and strode through the door at the far end into what appeared to be a large, open reception hall.

There were angels milling about here. It was a moment before anyone noticed him, but when they did there were dramatic sounds of consternation and murmurings from all sides. He strode through, ignoring all of them, until he got to the exact center of the room.

One angel gathered his courage and stepped forward to greet him, standing a few feet away from the small flames licking off the demon’s body. He looked both outraged and thoroughly intimidated.

“Can I help you?” he asked officiously.

“GABRIEL,” Crowley bellowed. “I need to speak to Gabriel RIGHT BLOODY NOW.”

The angel took a step back. He turned to look at one of his less brave companions. “Go,” he said. “Fetch Gabriel.”

They continued to stare at each other with icy disdain for the few minutes it took for anything to happen. Finally, he heard the click of Gabriel’s pretentious, shiny loafers coming from the other end of the hall, and he finally got a look at the utter prick.

Gabriel did not look pleased to see him.

“Demon Crowley,” he said with a fake and completely unconvincing smile. “You know you shouldn’t be here.”

“You can’t touch me, Gabriel, and you know it,” Crowley snapped dismissively. “And I’m here for something that is very much in your best interest.”

Gabriel glared at him and said nothing.

“I’d recommend we discuss this somewhere more private,” Crowley said. “You do not want everyone hearing what I have to say.”

“Fine,” Gabriel huffed. “Come with me.”

He turned and strode away without even checking to see if Crowley was behind him. Crowley took a moment to hiss at a few of the lesser angels still milling nearby, then stalked off after him.

++

Gabriel led him to an office, large and flamboyant, exactly what he would have expected from such a prig. There was an extremely ornate desk, elaborate wall hangings, and most amusing, an enormous, gilt-edged mirror that Crowley knew instantly the archangel used to check his outfits and admire himself.

What he did not expect was the presence of the other three archangels. Uriel, Michael, and Sandalphon were all there to greet him. They stepped back and clustered behind the desk as he entered, allowing his flaming self a little extra room.

“Michael, Uriel, Sandalphon,” he said, in greeting. “I’m here to make a deal with you.”

Gabriel stepped behind the desk and sat in his fussy, elaborate chair. “And what would you have to offer us that we could possibly want?” 

Crowley placed the briefcase down on the large flat desk and opened it carefully. Inside was the book. It gleamed most unpleasantly in the light.

“I’d suggest you don’t touch it,” he said. “This book was designed to kill you.”

Uriel and Sandalphon took a step back. Gabriel and Michael leaned in and peered at it. “It feels evil,” Michael affirmed. “But what is it and why are we supposed to believe you?”

Crowley explained it to them as succinctly as he could. How they’d taken it from a wannabe warlock, how he’d used angel and demon blood to power the book, what had happened to Aziraphale as a result.

“So,” Sandalphon said with a sneer, “you need the book destroyed, to save your stupid boyfriend, and you come to us?”

Crowley took a second to imagine all the ways he’d like to injure Sandalphon. He thought he’d start by ripping out each of his ridiculous gold teeth. The archangel must have read something of it on his face, because he folded his arms over his chest and glared defiantly.

“You need this book destroyed as much as I do,” Crowley growled. “This book is a weapon! Did you even know there was a spellbook floating around on earth that contained magic that could kill all of the archangels? Were ANY of you even the slightest bit aware of that?”  

Michael, at least, had the decency to look a little embarrassed by that. “No,” she admitted. “We didn’t.”

“Listen to me,” Crowley said, “and listen well. This is a one-time offer, and it has to be done now. If you wait for the book to kill Aziraphale before you take action, or if you hem and haw and get all bureaucratic and he just ‘accidentally’ dies first, then the deal is off. No book.” He made eye contact with each of them in turn, convincing them of his sincerity. “I will take it, and I will work with my human witch friends to read it, and I will have in my hands a fully operational weapon that could decimate heaven. I will kill each and every one of you motherfuckers who could have saved him and didn’t.”

Even Gabriel paled. “It doesn’t need to come to that, demon –”

Crowley raised his hand to snapping position, a posture they were all intimately familiar with, and sent a quick prayer out to the universe. This was the moment. This the end, or the beginning, of everything.

“I don’t have time to wait for your bullshit,” he said.  He fastened his eyes particularly hard on Sandalphon, who was quietly trying to palm something he had removed from his coat pocket. “Answer now, or the book and I are gone before you can do anything with that vial of holy water I see you sneaking out of your pocket, you gigantic, pustulent, shit-heel.”

“Sandalphon!” Gabriel admonished, sounding a little desperate. “May I remind you that I am in charge here?”

Sandalphon grimaced and laid the bottle on the desk and stepped away from it. Crowley shot a little flare of hellfire at it from his fingertip and everyone behind the desk jumped back as it exploded and disappeared.

“So?” he said. “What’s your answer? You have three seconds. Three --  two –”

“Okay, okay!” Gabriel said. “We’ll do it. The demon is right, this book needs to disappear from existence.”

The archangels conferred briefly, and then by mutual agreement arrayed themselves around the desk, facing the briefcase. They had just raised their hands and begun to concentrate on combining their powers into a joint pool of angelic might when suddenly, a bright blue-gold light filled the room from above.

Everyone froze.

++

“ANGELS. DEMON CROWLEY.” The ineffable and lovely voice of God drifted down from the ceiling.

“Finally!” Gabriel said. “Someone with some sense to intervene in this ridiculous –”

“BE QUIET,” the voice admonished in a motherly tone. “DEMON CROWLEY,” she continued. “I WILL PAUSE THESE ANGELS SO THAT YOU AND I CAN SPEAK IN PEACE.”

Crowley stared, awestruck, as the four archangels simultaneous looked up and then froze in place, each of their faces a rictus of astonishment or, in Gabriel’s case, outrage.

There was a flash of light, and Crowley found himself seated on a park bench, in an overly technicolor recreation of St. James’ Park, with a small, old woman in a grey wool overcoat seated beside him. She had her pure white hair pulled back under a scarf somewhat reminiscient of the Queen of England. She pulled out a small bag of what appeared to be breadcrumbs and scattered them to the oddly enhanced ducks in front of them.

“I – I—” Crowley stammered, absolutely dumbstruck. “You – You’re ---”

The old woman turned and smiled at him with eyes that were as shockingly blue as Aziraphale’s. “My Crowley,” she said kindly. “Yes I am.”

Crowley swallowed hard, feeling so many conflicting urges that he didn’t know where to start. Laugh hysterically? Burst into tears? Beat against her with his fists? He stared into her eyes feeling each of these things make their way across his face, being instantly absorbed and understood and absolved by the creature in front of him, who stared back placidly.

“I heard your prayers,” she said. “I’ve always heard you.”

Crowley couldn’t help it, he felt the anger boil up inside him. “You – You’ve been LISTENING? All this time? You threw me out of heaven for – for NOTHING, for asking questions, I never hurt anyone and it destroyed me and – and you’ve been listening? You – you utter bastard…”

He froze, realizing what he’d just said and to who, and closed his eyes while silently waiting to be destroyed. His last conscious thought was sorrow that he wouldn’t be able to make it back to help Aziraphale.

He felt a tear leaking down his cheek, then another. Traitorous bloody eyes, he thought.

Crowley felt the softest of touches on his cheek, wiping one away. “My dear,” the woman said softly, “I can’t explain to you all of what I’ve used you for, and I don’t expect your forgiveness. But I needed you, where and how you were, all these centuries. You’ve performed so perfectly.”

Crowley opened his eyes, confused beyond all understanding, and just stared into the woman’s eyes. “This was all some kind of BLOODY PLAN?” he gulped out.

She shushed him and leaned forward to press a kiss on his forehead. He was surprised it didn’t burn.

“Ineffable,” he said with some degree of bitterness. “Of course.”

“Your love for the angel has moved me deeply,” she said. “You truly love him, do you not?”

He blinked and the anger fell away like sugar melting in the rain.

“Of course I do,” he said, his eyes continuing to leak treacherous tears. “He’s the only person in the universe who has ever loved me. And even if he didn’t, I’d love him just the same. He’s – he’s the best thing you’ve ever created.”

The woman looked at him with a sad smile. “He was one of my better works, I must admit,” she said. “He’s never disappointed me. Not once.”

Crowley smiled a little through his tears. “Can I please remember this so I can tell him that?”

The woman laughed. “You may. He’d like that.”

She sat back and turned to face him more fully.

“I heard your offer, in the shop yesterday,” she said. “I’m here to accept it.”

Crowley’s heart stopped. “You’re --- you’re going to help me?”

“I am,” she said. “You would do anything to save him, would you not?”

“I would.”

“Then let it be so,” she said. “But there’s a price.”

“Done,” he said rashly. “Whatever it is, it’s done. Take it. Take anything. Just save him.”

She looked at him gravely. “That’s not how it works,” she said, impossibly gentle. “You must hear the price and knowingly agree to it, or it cannot be done. You must give your full consent.”

He took a deep, quivering breath. “All right. Tell me your terms.”

“Your witch friend’s law of equivalent exchange is a good framework to think about this through,” she said smiling. “You want Aziraphale’s life returned to him, healthy and whole. You must give something of equivalent value.”

Crowley paled. “Of course,” he said slowly. “You want to kill me.”

“No, of course not you foolish demon,” she said. “To save the angel and kill you would be to relegate him to a hell of his own making. I love you both too much to do any such thing.”

“Then what do you want?” he said, thoroughly lost.

“You must give up your powers,” she said tenderly. “You will still be alive, and you will still be immortal, but your magic will be lost to you forever.”

Oh, Crowley thought. Is that all.

It was truly nothing, he realized, in the larger scope of his love for and his life with Aziraphale. It was a bargain he would have paid a hundred times over.

“You will no longer have any powers to perform miracles, shape shift, or otherwise affect reality,” she continued. “Will you become powerless for your angel?”

“I’ve always been powerless for him,” he said quietly, heart laid bare. “This is no different.”

She smiled at him with great warmth.

“I consent,” Crowley said. “Go ahead.”

A swirl of light surrounded him and it was gentle when it happened; he felt his powers one moment, and the next minute they gently slipped away.

++

A second later he was back in the office, and Gabriel and the others were unfrozen and staring at him in utter shock. He was aware that his protective wreath of flames was gone, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be concerned. He would live or he would die – the matter was out of his hands.

“YOU WILL HELP HIM,” the disembodied voice of God says, “GIVE HIM WHAT HE REQUIRES AND ALLOW HIM TO LEAVE UNHARMED.”

The four archangels gaped at the ceiling.

Only Michael found the courage to respond. “Yes, lord,” she said tremulously.

“NONE OF YOU WILL TOUCH THEM. THIS ANGEL AND THIS DEMON ARE MINE AND MINE ALONE. SWEAR TO IT, ALL OF YOU, IN A BINDING OATH.”

They did, looking thoroughly cowed.

The voice instructed them to link their hands and focus on the book; she would empower them to fully destroy it. They complied, and after a moment’s focus, the book burst into flame and burned completely. It disappeared from existence with a pop.

Crowley scanned the desk where it had been sitting and was left with a sense of – absolutely nothing. His shoulders dropped in relief.

“GOODBYE, MY BELOVED DEMON,” the voice said, tenderly. “WE WILL NOT SPEAK AGAIN.”

The light disappeared, and the four archangels turned to look at him in complete disbelief.

“You – you’re –” Gabriel, the smug bastard, did not look smug any longer. He cleared his throat and tried to form a coherent thought. “You’ll be going then, I assume?” he said, straightening his tie in a clear attempt to regain his dignity.

“I will,” Crowley said, fully aware he looked a little stunned himself. “Uh, thank you, I guess, for the help.”

“Don’t come back here,” Gabriel said.  “You can’t just come waltzing up here whenever you want, you know.”

Crowley waved a hand at him dismissively. “Like I’d want to,” he said. He turned and headed for the door, leaving the briefcase on the desk. Let them clean it up.

“Oh,” he said, turning around at the door. “Michael.”

Michael looked up, her gaze more curious than afraid. “Yes?”

“I need one more thing,” the demon said. “And I need you to bring it down for me.”

#good omens fics #Aziraphale x crowley #ineffable husbands #archangels are assholes #the voice of god #played by frances mcdormand #as imagined by me

[diisenchvnted]

KIERNAN SHIPKA,  DEMIGIRL,  SHE/HER.  —  looks  like  BEATRICE “TRIXIE” BELLEROSE  is  attending  AURADON PREP  in  auradon.  they're  the  NINETEEN  year  old  child  of  THE ENCHANTRESS,  which  means  they're  from  THE ISLE.  heard  they're  ENERGETIC  &  CREATIVE,  but  can  also  be  OFFBEAT  &  NAÏVE  ;  we all have our bad days.  people  normally  associate  them  with  RED PETALS FALLING OFF A BLOOMING ROSE, A CRACKED HANDMIRROR BY YOUR BESIDE, RUBY RED LIPS AND BIG BROWN EYES, WORN STUFFED ANIMALS SALVAGED WITH A POOR SEWING JOB.  —  hylia.

                             ❛ it’s only me who wants to wrap around your dreams                                 and...  have you any dreams you’d like to sell ?? ❜                                playlist. pinterest. to listen as you read.                                tws : mental abuse ( by a parent )

so hi again i am hylia and this is Baby. idk how long this one’s gonna end up eITHER bc my allergies are kickin’ my ass today and I should be resting but I cannot stay away from this group for that long. So yes !! pls continue reading for more info abt trixie bby here. i lov her.

HISTORY

The daughter of the Enchantress - yes , the same Enchantress that turned Prince Adam into a beast - Trixie never really understood why her family was stuck on the Isle. Since of course , the Enchantress only taught Adam a lesson , yes ?? It was maybe through more harsh means than one would think , but . . . she wasn’t a bad guy.

...Right ??

All Trixie knew was that this was the life she was given , and she had to suck it up and deal with it. And never one to really sit around feeling sorry for herself , she took it. And her life was pretty normal for an Isle kid , save for her mother projecting her anger at being thrown on Isle onto her child. 

There was always a talk of showing them. Telling Trixie , One day we’ll show them what a real lesson is since they didn’t learn from last time. Excessively tutoring her in all things magic and enchanting despite the fact that powers like that actually terrified the child to her core. 

But there was always pressure - and it only increased when it was found out the Isle kids were getting a chance. In Trixie’s mind , this was a new way to explore , a new opportunity for a brand new life - UNTIL Trixie’s mother decided it would finally be able to kick their plans into motion. All of that tutoring , all of the training that made it so Trixie never had many friends , couldn’t leave the house much - it would have to pay off.

Gifted with an enchanted mirror and an enchanted rose by her mother - exact replicas to the beast’s , the Enchantress gave Trixie an ultimatum to make sure revenge was sated : give the Beast’s family the same fate he once bore ( essentially , transform them all into beasts like he used to be ) by the time the last petal falls , or be doomed to become a beast herself.

And . . . that’s where she is now. 

FACTS / CHARACTER

SO YES THAT’S IT - Trixie’s mother basically wants her to turn Belle, Adam , and their kids into beasts to get revenge or else Trixie’s gonna be the one turning into a beast if she doesn’t do it. And yes it’s fucking terrifying.

Nobody knows of this secret except for the two people involved in the deal - Trixie , and her mom. And by God Trixie does not want to do this.

And realistically , for RP purposes , I’m gonna inform you now that there is no way that the revenge is gonna be carried out. The Florians are fine. We all know she’s not gonna do it. But right now , since Trixie just got here and has that ultimatum , she doesn’t know that yet. So she’s struggling with a lose-lose situation since if she does do that , she makes herself an Auradonian criminal , and if she defies her mother and doesn’t , she becomes a beast and she has no idea how to undo a spell like that.

So yeah , just to clarify - nobody else really knows about this. Trixie keeps this deal hidden , and also hides the two items related to it in her closet ( the handmirror and rose ) so nobody finds them. Even though she routinely carries the mirror around with her and checks on the rose frequently because yes , its petals are starting to fall. 

Which brings me to my next point - Trixie has AMAZING power , and essentially , later on in her life it’s destined that she’ll become the next Enchantress. But because Trixie’s magical prowess isn’t manifesting fully yet , aka - it’s not showing on the outside , she doesn’t think she has much of a talent with it. She doesn’t know her own strength yet.

And of course , her mother knows of this. Her mother knows she’s going to excel - but there’s both difficulties in keeping that a secret and letting her become aware.

She keeps it a secret right now - it’s in an effort to keep Trixie under her thumb. But this is also proving difficult for Trixie to carry out the revenge scheme due to a lack of confidence paired with her morals.

If Trixie becomes aware of her power , then that means she’s going to find out she’s growing stronger as her mother’s magic is waning - kind of like the deal with the Supreme in American Horror Story. Trixie’s power grows stronger as her mother’s grows weaker , but that isn’t showing yet in the former of the two. 

So right now , Trixie is forcing herself to practice her magic to get stronger to appease her mother - even though honestly ?? She does not like magic. It terrifies her , and she blames her ability to use it for why her life kind of sucks right now.

To sort of make sure nobody is suspicious of her , Trixie doesn’t even tell people who her mother is. She just says her mother was a fling of Gaston’s banished to the Isle by association - that’s it.

And this is sort of how she’s managed to get a part-time job working in Ben’s castle as a maid to get close.

...Even though she really , really , really doesn’t like that.

But also !! One thing she has going for her is that despite everything - she is very outwardly FRIENDLY and optimistic - always smiley , always chatting up somebody up. This is sort of an effort to make herself feel better rather than put on a facade , since Trixie’s more keen on focusing on things that don’t make her feel sad to distract herself from the actual situation. 

“Trix you’re in denial” “I know.”

Also this sort of influence her tendency to ignore or run away from situations as much as she can bc... mood.

Acting in her own world is very normal for her - and it’s a major coping mechanism. She’s very creative , obsessed with fairytales and stories and probably knows the whole story about your parents more than you do. She in fact writes some of her own in her spare time , always keeping a journal around with her for writing when she’s bored.

Also keeps a dream journal ( mR. ELECTRICDAD SEND HIM TO THE PRINCIPAL’S OFFICE AND HAVE HIM EXPELLED !!11!!1!!!!!! ) bc she is big into the belief our dreams have deeper meanings n stuff

She’s not the type to shy away from stuff tho in the sense of like... conversing about very out there topics or saying weirdass things that pop into her head. Sort of seen as a little weirdo for this but it all comes for the fact that Trixie is a HUGE thinker.

Also into the supernatural even on the slightly more malevolent side just bc she finds it interesting - she’s 100% the friend that proposes u guys try and summon demons during sleepovers

My lil weird baby

Looks rly good in green and red tbh and probably owns like forty-five different shades of lipstick since coming to Auradon 

Also has a lot of rose-patterned/themed stuff just bc frankly it’s cute. 

God as a character it’s so hard to describe her like... in words this sounds so pretentious but I do so much better showing and not telling bc her character is so complex in the sense that she’s. She’s like a dream. That’s the best way I can describe her - a dream as in the random , thought-induced , fantasy-like parts of dreams rather than the romantic parts of everything.

That probably makes no sense but. Yeah.

She’s weird I love her

Probably would do well in Wonderland if she didn’t have her mother lOOMING OVER HER HEAD

WANTED CONNECTIONS / PLOTS 

OKAY SO PLSSS GIVE ME FRIENDS TRIXIE USED TO HAVE ON THE ISLE BUT SHE LOST TOUCH W/ FOR BEING SO... CLOSED IN

In general I just want friends that Trixie has that she can’t rly tell what’s going on with her. At all. And it breaks her heart bc she finally has the chance to fit in and get along with people but either way she decides to take her mother’s deal makes it so she can’t keep them.

Lots of secrets are gonna be passed about.

I’d lov her to eventually bond with sb so she can actually EXPLAIN her problem to and cry about it bc baby lowkey feels like she’s on her own in this and can’t turn to anyone for it

PPL WHO TRIXIE HELPS WITH WRITING BC SHE LOVES IT

Ppl who Trixie rly likes in any sense to point where she bases some fairytale characters in her own stories off of them

I’d also love some enemies pls gimme gimme gimme

Some ppl who suspect Trixie bc she seems so... vague. Like she’s not giving the full story.

Isle kids who know EXACTLY who Trixie’s mother is and for some reason resent her for tht bc I don’t think the Enchantress is the nicest magic user out there rn

Friendships that went sour bc Trixie’s been keeping so many SECRETS

First love who went sour for the same reasons : /

The general uhhhhh exes, crushes, that sorta stuff

Any ship that’s gonna b like a full on sHIP SHIP will have to b seen how chemistry works out !! But Trixie’s a panromantic asexual bby who I adore. 

I’d love some folks she aCCIDENTALLY exposes her magic to and they can either

A .) Blackmail her n threaten to expose her for it

or B.) Find it RLY RLY RLY cool n she just shows them a bunch of magic... trix

hahaha HAHAHAHAHA

please clap.

BT ALSO LETS DEFFO BRAINSTORM SOME !!! again i’ll be making an official connections page for her like i am w/ luke but in the meantime ! lets plot !

#no graphic atm bc i can't b bothered i'm so sorry #usoa:intro #abt tag tbd #mental abuse tw

[on-the-wings-of-hope-prose-en]

Circus

“Dear residents of the capital and guests of our city! We invite you to our festive circus show! Devilish cunning, demonic courage, abyssal enthusiasm! A brave new world, full of alluring temptations and unsolved mysteries, is already waiting for you right outside this threshold! Hurry up to see, hurry up to believe, hurry up to hurry! Only here and just now! We are not for an hour, we are forever!”

The tenacious gaze of the herald, clothed in all the colors of the rainbow, suddenly stopped on Artem Sergeyevich, who had barely managed to get out on Red Square and right at that moment was dumbfounded at the view that opened up to him. The entire square, as far as the eye could see, was filled with three dozen different high tents, between which circus actors, acrobats, or clowns, who were calling to “head straight and heedlessly plunge into this unique light show”, were running rapidly now and then. Citizens strolling around the square almost immediately became victims of this aggressive clowning. Small groups of visitors still managed, kicking and refusing, to avoid close contact with these annoying circus performers. No matter where you looked, there was no sign army, no officials, zero reporters, even no guides with tourists, so familiar to the capital at this time of year. Colorful tents covered almost the entire territory of the square, coming close to the walls of the Kremlin and St. Basil’s Cathedral.

“Welcome to the show!” a jester with improvised small red horns on his head, who was dressed in a colorful hoodie, red kirza boots, and for some unknown reason a black sweatshirt, jumped up to Artem Sergeyevich and without unnecessary ado grabbed our hero, who was confused by surprise, and, continuing to persistently hold his hand, almost dragged him by force to one of the tents towering on the square.

“The best political acrobats and circus performers from all over the world!”, “thousands of beautiful naked camera-bearing maidens!”, “vaccine-carrying winners of talk show awards!”, “unholy martyrs of false belief!” the jester continued to babble hurriedly as if in a patter, dragging Artem Sergeyevich, who was still stunned by what he had just seen.

“…Completely free of charge for worthy people!” the last words of the circus performer who was expectantly staring at our hero with a smile stretched over his blue-painted lips, pushed through Artem Sergeevich’s clouded consciousness.

“And why… and where… everyone…” Artem Sergeyevich started to come to his senses after a merciless information tirade.

“At the performance, of course!” the clown burst out laughing with a kind of shrill, coughing laugh. “I’ll tell you even more,” he winked maliciously in response to a silent unspoken question, “some of those persons that you just thought of – they will even be in the role of actors! Isn’t that all great?!”

“It’s great… probably… and what is… your performance about?”

“A new brave world, sick humankind, the devil’s chord, and wasted mind!” the jester sang the rhymed lines, dancing slightly from the excitement. The rhythm and sound of his voice, lulling and shaking at the same time, enveloped Artyom Sergeevich’s sleepy consciousness like a dope as if demanding to pay attention, heed, and obey – with zero unnecessary questions, without needless doubts, never listening to his soul…”

“And why… the tents… are you… a touring circus?”

“I’ll say – in no way! We plan to stay here for a very long time!” the circus performer winked slyly in response, and red flames flashed in his eyes for a brief moment.

“You said… notable people take part in the performance?”

“Oh, indeed! Almost all the higher darkn… entire high society! Many of them were invited by us in advance and have already perfectly accepted their new roles after many previous rehearsals of our circus-like end of the world! Doctors, politicians, priests, and the press – everyone is happy to relieve your stress!” the jester sang in rhymes once more.

“And for how long… does this show of yours last?”

“It depends on the circumstances!” the clown said bluntly without another dancing. “The more of you – the longer the hour, the brighter the flame and greater the power! And most importantly…” and the jester bowed his head directly to Artem Sergeyevich’s ear, “for worthy people, the performance will be completely free of charge!”

“Free? This is such a… rare occasion in our times.”

“Exactly! And most often – there is a catch! And we don’t have a catch, as you may have already noticed, not a single one, nope. Our word is as honest as we are,” the clown laughed loudly with his painted blue lips.

“So… can I just come in?”

“Not quite!” the jester abruptly stopped Artem Sergeyevich, who was moving with an uncertain gait towards the entrance to the tent. “First and foremost, you need to measure your current weight on these karmic scales, see?” and he pointed to a strange-looking scale standing next to the entrance to the tent. “Go ahead, don’t be afraid, they won’t bite you!”

Under the massive weight of Artyom Sergeyevich’s heavy body, these scales, which for some reason had two arrows instead of one, started shaking and – or was it just his playful imagination? – as if moaned from someone’s unspoken unspeakable pain, and then one of the arrows stopped near the beginning of the scale, and the second shifted somewhere far away.

“Very good, just fine!” said the clown, shifting from one foot to the other with satisfaction. “The amount of evil you have committed is many times greater than the number of good deeds, and that means that attending to our performance will be completely free of extra charge for you, Artem Sergeevich!”

“And how do you… know my name?” the hero had no time to be surprised, for the jester interrupted him.

“Please, stretch out your hands! It’s not a hard requirement to stretch your legs as of yet. Temperature measurement, you know the new rules,” he explained soothingly in response to a puzzled look.

“Ah… the new rules. Yes, I am aware of them, of course… this is all very correct, no doubt in that,” and Artem Sergeyevich stretched out his hands in a conciliatory manner.

With these words, the jester abruptly pulled something resembling a seal from somewhere in his bosom and pressed it hard against the stretched left palm. For a brief moment, there was a smell of burning in the air, a sharp flash of pain pierced Artem Sergeyevich’s hand, and then some mysterious runic symbol appeared on his palm as if burned by a laser.

“Entrance fee! Such are the rules!” the jester explained.

“But you have just said…”

“Come in already, you fool!” the jester abruptly forcefully pushed Artem Sergeyevich inside, closing the tent floors.

Reality has changed. The hall was completely filled with darkness. The floor had gone missing, it was impossible to see where the ceiling ended. The rows of seats floating in the void as if in weightlessness were fully filled with spectators who were shouting something into the hall. For some reason, Artem Sergeyevich did not hear the sounds of their voices. Waiters in black robes were walking back and forth between the rows, as if floating in the air, offering the audience some unknown cocktails. In the very center of the hall, where the eyes of millions were turned, there was some kind of stage, which was constantly illuminated by blinding lights of flashes that caused a sharp pain in the eyes.

Dressed in a black business suit, Artem Sergeyevich found himself sitting on one of the chairs in the upper-far row. Next to him, as far as the eye could see, in the same row, people in black tuxedos with briefcases in their hands just like him were sitting – some of them were sorting through their papers, others were counting cash. Artyom Sergeyevich stood up slightly, trying to recognize the rest of the visitors in the flashes that were hurting his eyes. Below him, judging by their appearance and pretentious gestures (he still did not hear their voices), there were actors and showmen – Artem Sergeyevich’s gaze, running over their faces, unexpectedly saw the familiar outlines of several famous business personalities and reporters among the distorted grimaces. A little lower down, in this endless darkness, there were chairs with people dressed in white clothes – Artyom Sergeyevich noticed with dread that their mouths were sewn up, and the pupils of their eyes, as if blinded, looked longingly at the stage, never closing for a single moment. In the lower rows closest to the stage, he was stunned to see a myriad of gilded heads with rods and crosses in their arms – from these crosses, depicting the tortured Christ, red blood was slowly dripping into the unknown blackness of the absent floor. Close to the stage, queens, and kings in spiked crowns were sitting impressively on gilded pillows – some kind of muddy liquid was constantly oozing from their crowns, and they eagerly gathered it in their hands, blackened by the marks that were imprinted on them, and drank, greedily sucking every sip, and then raising their empty hands to the black height as if in a sign of thanksgiving.

Lights were dancing on the stage. The fiery streams encircling it were lighting up and then extinguishing again. The light of the red spotlights was almost blinding. The music, thundering with deafening rhythms, made the seats in the lower rows vibrate and shudder in unison with it. The shadows, cast from the searchlights, stretched out and started looking like monsters from horror movies.

“At last!” an unfamiliar voice thundered from the stage. “Ladies and gentlemen, we declare our performance open! Meet our king! Face him!”

Practically blinded by the flashes and deafened by the heart-rending music, Artem Sergeyevich rushed from his chair with the only all-consuming desire to run away, although he already had nowhere to run, but the shackles that appeared on the chair from out of nowhere suddenly closed on his hands and feet, condemning him to be an eternal spectator of this unearthly end of the world.

“Meet our king!” were the last sounds he heard moments before the whole scene was drowned in the roar of raging flames. And then his silent outcry came in their place…

* * *

“Dear residents of the capital and guests of our city! We invite you to our festive circus show! Devilish cunning, demonic courage, abyssal enthusiasm!” the jester continued to shout out on the street of the capital as if nothing had ever transpired.

“And what do you need me to do to attend your amazing event?” asked Pyotr Ivanovich, walking along the square with interest.

“Oh!” the jester, who had carefully looked into his eyes, replied with enthusiasm. “Just a small thing! You simply need to betray God!”

23.09.2021

[lillaxtrigger]

Young Hope: Chapter 36

Out along the middle of the vast blue pacific, the gentle ocean breeze blow above the crystal clear waters and bellows out towards a flourishing lone island; the winds brushing against the bright and vibrant leaves and flora that make up its very forest. Alongside the very winds do a pair of winged shadows run along the top of these very tropical trees and flowers; the shadows speeding through the treetops until coming to a small, clear meadow; the two who owned these shadows fluttering down and landing upon the clearings soft grassy plain. Once the pair of angels roost on these very plains, the one boasting an indigo blue main gazes up towards the very sky that he had just descended down from; taking in a deep breath of the luscious tropical air before stating that: “Ah, this. This is just perfect right here. The calm ocean winds, the clear blue sky, the wildlife singing their natural song out in the distance. It all makes for one hell of a vacation spot, hope I can take some of my friends and fam here to party once we get all this business outta the way.” “Rest assured, Tore; our journey is nearing its climax. With two of the three search nods within our possession, one more is all we need to obtain to free the Kybr and reunite with our long lost kin.” the man with the cosmic wings declares.

“Then what do you think were waiting for, lets speed through this island and find the final one!” the blue boy excitedly suggest as he starts to take off. Before his ecstatic pupil could fly very far, Mall reaches his hand out to the speeding young boy and grasps his blazer collar with his spacial powers; Tore letting out a choked grunt as his whole body swings back. “Slow down there, my young Kybr. I’m afraid what we seek lies not along the beautiful tropics of this island.” “Uh, then where do you expect us to find it?” “Simple, go to hell.” “Uh, wow, okay. A little outta nowhere. You could just say its a surprise or something. Don’t gotta verbally stomach jab me like that.” “No, Tore. What I mean is the final nod we seek dwell deep beneath the earth and his stored away in the very pits of the damned; held within the confines of the demon kings very castle of flames and crimson brick.” “Oh. Wait, if you know that for a fact, then why’d ya choose to go down to this little slice of paradise? Wouldn’t it be faster just to dig our way down?” “Hmph, simply digging through the earth so brutishly would no doubt garter far too much attention then we need. I happen to know for a fact that there lies a hole that lead straight down into the underworld somewhere along this very island.” “Oh come on. A portal down into hell somewhere out in this tropical paradise?” “A jarring statement which makes it all the more inconspicuous.” “So this is the only hole leading straight down to hell or...” “Well, I do know of another portal somewhere down in the chilling arctic. Would you rather-” “Ah! Ya know what, why don’t we just start down here and see where it all goes.” Letting a little chuckle escape from his mouth, Mall begins to head straight out of the clearing and into the lush green tropics; his blue ward following after as they begin to navigate around the countless trees and flora that make up the islands very ecosystems.

Out further through the tropical forest, the dozens of tree’s starts to cluster and grow more dense the further they travel through the island; their numbers mattering little however as Mall simply stretches the space between it all for him and his pupil to casually walk along. As they continue to stroll through the middle of the tropical island jungle; the indigo angel takes the moment between both him and his mentor to ask: “Hey uh, not to sound pretentious here; but out of all the handful of Kybr that were left in this universe of ours, why’d you up and decide to take me along in this little fetch quest of yours?” “Well, I admit that you weren't exactly my first choice.” “Really? Who else did you have in mind?” “I was tempted to reach out to another half breed Kybr much like you; one that had boasted far more experience and strength. But before I could take the chance to confront this man however, I discovered that he was aligned with those that had seen to our races entrapment; a traitor to his very ancestors. One whose assistance I had discarded.” the cosmic angel explains with a gnarled hiss at the end. “He’s that strong? Who is this guy?” “Hmm. I still remember the day that I had discovered him clear as the cosmo’s; his orange hair flapping in the winds he soared the skies with his glorious golden wings. There was not a single doubt in my mind that he realized what aspect of this very universe he could control.” “Ah...” Tore utters, beginning to realize who exactly his mentor may be referring to.

“Uh, before...You mentioned that you had a daughter, right?” the blue boy shifts the conversation to. “...Yes. Why do you ask?” his cosmic mentor confirms without so much as looking back at him. “Wh-what was it like being a-a dad? Ya know, sharing those precious moments with here?” A soft sigh escapes from the angels mouth before he goes on to explain how: “In those fleeting moments that I had spent with her, an incredibly powerful feeling began to bloom within me; one that I had never felt in my near eternal life before. Those times I had played, taught, trained, imagined, and flew with her; all those moments will remained forever carved within my mind for the rest of this long and overwhelming journey of life. I...I would give anything to experience that strange, but blissful feeling of being what they would call a father once more...”

“Wow. And I never really knew what it was like to even have a dad...” Upon the blue angel injecting this does his mentor glance back at him, uttering to the boy: “Really? Is he-” “No no, he still very much alive. It’s just that he never ever comes back to spend a single second with the family he help make anymore. Mom just always gave me the excuse of how he’s just way too busy with whatever he’s doing every time I bothered asking. And I could tell that all times I asked for him, I could see the disappointment and sadness in her eyes. She’s tried to mask it with how fine she is with; but there’s just those moments I caught her without that mask and just see her cry. I eventually just stopped asking; I realized then that he was never gonna come back. Like even when things got to their absolute worst, I didn’t depend on him to just swoop in and fix everything; how could I? And what’s worse about it is that I still remember those times he did bother come around when I was just little bitty tike, all before my sister was even born. I have nothing else to go off of. It would have been one thing if he’d just never showed up in my life; but those memories of when he actually bothered to be a dad make the fact that he’s never coming around again for my mom, my sister, me just sting all the worse...It just...fucking sucks!”

Upon hearing his blue ward express such outrage causes the cosmic angel to stop dead in his tracks; Tore inadvertently bumping right into his back and nearly falling over. As the indigo angel catches himself from tumbling down, he witnesses his mentor fully turn back towards him and says: “I am truly sorry to hear your plight, my boy. Your father, whatever his business in this universe may be, I can say without any doubt is that he is missing such a treasuring experience. To share in the very joys of life with your own kin, and taking it so flippantly for granted...Truly such a tragedy.” “Mall...Do….you think...Nah, never mind.” the blue boy stutters. “Are you sure?” “Yeah, I’m fine. Lets just get a move on.” Choosing to drop the subject, the two angel’s continue their little venture deeper into the tropical jungle’ Mall resuming to bend the space before them to let them past through the thicket of the forest.

Their peaceful walk through the lush island jungle eventually has them come to another clearing; both of them gazing beyond the tropical trees to discover a gargantuan stone monolith standing tall before them, its rocky surface rugged and covered in vines and aged bone to reflect its long lifespan. “Wow! How did we not spot this on the way down?” the blue boy ponders as his mentor hovers closer to the temple. Running his curious eyes over the face of the stone building, Mall brushes his fingers across the littered vines while claiming: “Strange, this structure wasn’t here before the last time I visited.” “When’s the last time you flew down here?” “Oh, it was rather long ago. I can’t believe the time has escaped me so easily, but I am certain it was a thousand  years at the least.” “Hey, a lot can happen here in that time. Maybe some people washed up here and built this thing with their bare hands, and outta themselves apparently.” “Perhaps; but when this monolith was constructed matters little to us. It’s what’s built over that were meant to descend down to.” “So, if the way down to hell is under this thing, should we just smash right through it?” “Heh. I think I may provide a much less crass method of uncovering our way down.” “And that would be?” “Tore, are you aware of atoms?” the cosmic angel questions. “Those small dots that make up everything?” “Indeed, my boy. Between every single atom that makes up this entire universe there are molecular bits of space that stand between each of them; from the loosest of water to the densest of stars, from the softest gases to the most hardened of refined solids; there exist this space between it all.” “Okay, so what’s that gotta do with what’s in front of us.” “It mean that those bits of space let me do this.”

Mall then ascend over to the upper front of the ancient temple, remaining utterly still in the air as he takes in a deep breath and shuts his eyes; the angel clasping his hands together and remaining peacefully silent as he prays. The song of the tropical jungle sings out as the cosmic angel hovers in the air, the countless animals providing the islands native ambiance as his blue wards simply stares up to him. “Uh, Mall...You okay up there.” Despite the indigo calling out to him, Mall remains still in his quiet focus. Uh, what’s he doing just standing there? He hasn’t done a thing for a whole straight minute, is he alright? Is he even awake?...Maybe shaking him will help? Right as the young angel starts to rise up towards his master, the spacial angel finally opens his eyes to the world once again; Tore hovering back when seeing the very cosmos itself reflected within his sclera’s. It then that he sees Mall finally break from his prayer and thrust his hands straight out towards the stone monument; Tore gazing back just in time to witness a line of pure spacial essence penetrate the rock and run straight down the middle of the ancient building. At last does the angel of space begin to part his palms away from one another, Tore watching as the stone temple before them follow suit and begin to split apart; the entire jungle trembling as both of monument’s halves grow further and further away from one another. Watching this marvel of spacial control play out before him, the indigo angel hovers closer to discover the split open sides of the parting monolith to find the parts cut open extremely smoothed and whole; all with not even a jag or crack left along the surface.

Once finished splitting the ancient temple, Mall closes his eyes up as he takes in another calm breath; his eyes returning to normal as he lets out a relieved exhale and declares that: “And there we have it. Our way into the depths of the underworld has been opened.” Hovering beyond the fractured halves of the monolith does the indigo angel gaze upon a wide and deep pit where the structure once stood; the numerous rocks decorating the pit offsetting the seemingly endless darkness. “Whoa! So this hole right here leads straight down to hell, does it?” the blue boy questions. “Indeed it does. How else do you think we would be traveling down?” “Well, I did think of another way, but just dropping down this hole here is a lot less work and thankfully way less traumatizing.”

As the two angels land right along the very edge of the fiery pit, Tore takes the moment to ask his mentor: “So, where exactly in hell are we supposed to find the last nod?” “Like I said, the search nod was being kept under the very depths of the king’s very castle, guarded by the most frightening of hell’s demon’s.” “King, you mean the devil?” “The devil, Satan, the unholy demon, King Lucitor, whatever he goes by nowadays, him and his royal family have held dominion over the fiery pits of the underworld for as long as the earth had existed.” “You think we’ll haveta face this guy.” “We’ll be lucky if we don’t see a single sign of him during our hellish trip. With Hell itself being his dominion, there is no other place he exudes power then his very own land.” “Jeez. Sounds exciting.”

With the initial questions gotten out of the way, the two Kybr at last jump into the massive fiery hole and begin their descent down into the hellish pit; the glow of their wings lighting through the darkness as they glide down. As both of them drop through the hole, the blue boy peeks back up to see the light of the sun above shrink down into a meager dot; eventually disappearing among the light of the fiery rock. Lowering his eyes downwards, Tore finds the earthly dirt that makes up the pit start to be replaced with hard brimstone and the melted flesh of men; the occasional head and limb protruding out from the blazing sides. The two angels could feel the very air they descend through begin to rapidly rise in temperature the further they drop; Tore wiping the constant stream of sweat that pours out from his forehead during their glide down. Its then that his ears manage to catch a bone chilling sonata of countless shrieks and screams all echoing down from below; these outcries making the blue boy shiver and shake. Gazing down towards the dark void they hover down towards do both of them see blobs of color all bubbling out from below, all these colorful faces and bodies erupting out around them and rising out from where they’d descended. Once their horrible shrieks die down, the indigo angel looks to his spacial mentor and asks: “Hey uh, you don’t think that whatever we do down here won’t effect what happens up there, should it?” “I don’t imagine it would on a big scale.”

Right up on the very surface of the earth that they had come down from, a whole group of people dressed in tribal attire all surround of what remains of their fractured monument; a good number of them running their palms along the smooth cut rock while the rest gaze down the very hole that was hidden under the rocky temple. As the people stare down along the seemingly endless pit, a mass of colorful lights start to rush right out from its very depths; all of them fleeing into the jungle as the hole erupts in a dozen colors and the wisps scatter through the air.

After several minutes of dropping down through the pit of blazing brimstone and melted flesh do both angels finally see a bright orange light beneath them; the fiery bright orange light beating against their bodies as they finally descend down from the bottom of the pit. The blazing orange glow finally fades away to let the angels take in the very view of the fiery underworld, Tore’s very eyes lighting up when witnessing the expected motif of like brimstone, lava, demonic monsters and screaming people. Though some of the other pieces of hell’s first impression still caught the blue boy off guard; stretched out human faces blanketing the rock, fleshy tentacles with sharp toothed maws along their ends, amalgamations of horrible rock and flesh pulsing and screaming in agony, even some people’s entire bodies melded into the boiling rock. “Holy hell hole! I expected some of this stuff like the lava and fire, but the rocky flesh things, the tentacles, the human faces on rocks. Really seems like something you see outta a horror show. It’s all seriously looking metal as all he- Wait a sec...Ah, you get it don’t you.” the indigo angel describes. “Quite the horror show indeed. A place no better for the gods to toss away their undesired. Attempt to be as selfless and free as you wish; but if your not looked down kindly upon them, then they’ll toss you down here to suffer for all eternity without so much as a second thought.” “Jeez, the gods are kinda dicks, aren’t they?” “A lot of them are, yes. But none of them dared to lock us Kybr within this very purgatory. With our very souls themselves able to mold the very universe we dwell in, how could they?”

“Well, since were finally down here, we might as well streak through the fiery skies til we reach the kings castle.” the indigo angel states as he readies to take off. Before Tore could rocket off out through the hell’s very blistering air, he suddenly crashes right into what felt like a super solid wall; the blue boy peeking ahead to find the very space in front of him solidified in cosmic stars. Knowing full we’ll who had erected such a wall, the blue boy turns back to his mentor and question: “Ah, what is it now?” “Do you seriously expect to freely glide through the skies of the underworld undetected with wings as bright as yours. As brilliant as they are, they will surely attract more then our fair share of trouble.” “So what? Let’s just wallop whatever gets in our way.” “Tore, please just listen. Were not out up above in the great wild yonder anymore. We’re in the very den of our very foe’s. We cannot proceed so carelessly. If the king of hell finds out we’re coming, then he will surely make sure to haul the nod somewhere we cannot reach it. Tis why we much walk far more carefully while traversing through this fiery hellscape. The keyword being walk.” A small whine leaves the blue boy’s mouth as both he and his mentor flutter down to the brimstone below; Tore putting away his wings as they land and asking: “How long do we gotta trudge through this hellscape til we reach the castle.” Thrusting his very own hand within his body, Mall digs through the space held within his very body and pulls out the golden halo; holding it in the palm of his hand until the holographic map appeared. “Hmm…Judging from where we had entered from, I would estimate have about...10 miles.” Upon the cosmic angels estimate does his pupil let out a loud outcry, one that echo’s alongside the other moans and agonizing screams that sound throughout the fiery airs of the underworld.

Their miles long journey throughout the hellish landscape takes them across the hills and loops of rugged brimstone, streams and river of flowing molten lava, riding along the backs of a few wondering leviathans and giants; all of which provides for them the sites of tormented, forgone, and punished. Be them boiled, fried, scorched, poked, or severely nipple twisted by the devilish inhabitants; their outcries join in along the other millions of guilty and punished that sing out their chorus of suffering throughout hell. Along side these sonata’s do dozens of demon’s of all shapes and sizes glide along the fiery skies of the underworld; some taking on human appearances while others take on borderline strange shapes as they fly.

After hoping right off the back of a giant and landing on solid stone, Tore lets out a growling sigh before expressing how: “Holy hellish heatwave here! It is boiling down in this hell hole. I mean as expected, sure; but you don’t really get how hot it is until you take a little trip down here. I’m starting to become more sweat than skin by the minute. We’ve been trudging through this whole nightly field trip of horror show delights for days on end now and we can’t see a single bit of the head honcho’s hell castle.” “Tore. It’s been an hour since we dropped down in here.” “Whatever, still feels the same. Spend an hour in hell and it feels like an eternity. Just how much longer do we gotta keep trudging through the inside of this semi supernatural oven compartment til we reach the keep?” “We’re here.” “Oh great I- hang on, what?”

Upon hearing his galactic teacher claim such, Tore peeks behind the cosmic angel to spot a huge, towering castle of crimson brick whose walls and towers take the shape of numerous twisted demonic body parts; the front gates of the castle taking the form of a gaping maw. The castle itself stands upon a pillar of brimstone set right in the middle of a boiling lake of molten magma; the lava bubbling along the bottom rising right out from the lake in rising pillars and flowing right up through hell’s very ceiling in columns of twisting molten goo. “Wow, now this is one hell of a place for the king of demons to live; huge ass castle, incredible of the hellish plains, sweet lava pillars rising from the lake. Couldn’t pick a better venue for a palace. So now that were here, what might the game plan be for breaking into this place.” “Well, it goes without saying that a straight forward approach is out of the question. Our best bet for this to go as smooth as possible would be for one of us to infiltrate the back of the keep and sneak out to where they’ve hidden the nod; a task of which I think is more suited for you, my ward.” Mall elaborates. “I-Why me?” “Your wings, child. Since they glow pale white, attempting to glide around the castle without getting seen would be nearly impossible; that is of course unless you glide just above the lake of molten liquid bubbling underneath. With how borderline bright this lake of molten goo is, nobody would pay any mind to a white spot traveling along the surface; they’d think of it as a simple glint or part of the lava itself. That’s how you will make your way to the back of the castle and sneak your way in; traverse the castle and take the nod back from the demon kings clutches.”

“Okay, okay, okay. I get that part of the plan. But what are you gonna be doing while I’m tiptoeing through this place?” the blue boy asks his mentor. “I shall stay out here and draw out the castles very forces, keeping them occupied and distracted while you navigate through its halls in search of our prize.” “Oh, that ain’t fair. Why do you get to do all the fun stuff while I’m just sneaking around?” “Because Tore, with my more developed control over the forces of space, I can keep the hellish strongholds army occupied far longer then you can.” “Ah...” “That is why I am trusting you to reach the nod while I work to keep the enemy forces at bay.” “Really?” “Indeed I am. With all that we’ve been through; cleansing the warp gate and restoring it to its former glory, fending off the rogue forces of the abandoned citadel side by side; even retrieving one of the nods deep within the chilling mountains, there isn’t any other Kybr left in this plain of existence I trusts more than you.” These very words brew within the blue wards a strange warmth deep within the bowels of the angel’s stomach; Tore clutching his side as he answers: “I’ll do it.” From his backside does the spacial angel presents the golden halo to the boy, Tore holding his hand out for the gadget as he mentor responds with: “I know you will.”

Parting from his spacial teacher, the indigo angel ventures to the very edge of the molten pit; his eyes glaring down to the lake of boiling magma that stews beneath them. With but a single bounding leap, the blue boy delves down towards the searing lake of lava; feeling the very air around him grow blisteringly hot the closer he drop down towards the fiery goo. Right as he’s but a few feet away from taking that seething molten dip, Tore finally erects his glowing white wings straight out from his backside and pulls up before he could dive bomb right into the magma lake; the intense heat from the lakes surface radiating on his stomach as he soars but only a few feet right above. Once gliding along the top of the molten liquid, the blue boy takes a little glance back to where he had fallen from to see his galactic mentor begin to ascend high above the brimstone rim and hover right before the crimson keep.

As Mall waves his hands in opposite clockwise motions, stars begin to conjure right out from his palms until he creates an entire ring of them. Once he has conjured the collection of stars, the cosmic angel commands them all to fire out towards the keep before him; each of these stars breaking apart in a small explosion of dust and shake the entire castle. Once the stardust start to settle and waft away, an entire slew of demonic monsters start to march, crawl, slither, and fly right out from the depth of the keep and rush out to the battlement to face the angel that dare attack their rulers palace. The horde of demons bare what weapons lie in their hands, what twisted teeth are in their maws, and what sharp talons are along their feet as the hellish army approach. Despite the legions of hell’s very castle charging at him, the spacial angel refuses to waver as he simply stretches both of his arms out to his sides and start to then conjure two galaxies right in the palms of his hands; the two galaxies spinning faster as they grow to the size of the angel’s entire body. Once these pairs of galaxies grow big enough, Mall casts them out to the demonic horde charging right at him like a pair of throwing discs; the galaxies cutting straight through the entire army easily.

Yep, he’s gonna be just fine. Certain of this very fact, Tore returns his site out to the rest of the molten lake before him; just in time to pass around the very column of brimstone holding the entire castle above the lake of blistering magma. Once behind towering pillar of rock, the indigo angel starts to rise up from the boiling magma and along the rugged brimstone until reaching the top of the crimson abode; gently fluttering down to an open balcony.

The young blue boy withdraws his bright pale wings as he start to enter the door left open leading inside; seeing only a pitch black darkness waiting on the other side. As he gently closes the door behind him, the blue boy’s eyes start to see a dozen shapes offsetting the dark red void before him; tiptoeing around these objects as he sneaks over to the other side of the room. Traversing through the dark red does the blue boy’s eyes catch what seemed like a door, resting his palm upon its wood and struggling to simply push it open. Feeling down for a knob, the indigo angel finds one along the side and attempt to twist, only to find it refusing to budge no matter how much he twists it. Locked. Could just break the door down, but that’d cause too much of a commotion. Need to find another way out.

While his eyes start to adjust to the darkness, the blue boy peeks back to where he had tiptoed from and spots something offsetting the shadows; the bars running along this rectangular object suggesting it to be a standing cage. Strange. Wonder what they could have trapped in here? Curious of what could be held inside, Tore carefully sneaks around the countless objects and shadows that litter the floor as he starts to approach the cage; left confused when seeing the very top of it to be left without any lid. Wait, is this really a cage? Finally making it to the supposed cage, the blue boy peeks down the open top to find something lying along the bottom; his curious stare beginning to widen when his eyes further adjust to the dark and discovers what lies inside. What he discovers lying within is a slumbering human toddler that sports a pair of demonic horns along the top of its head; the child’s slumbering sighs brushing against its single sharp tooth as it sleeps. Oh...oh no. Taking a peek back towards the stuff that he had been sneaking around, he finally sees to be toys, dozens of toys fit to be played within by a small child; much like the child he stands before. Oh no. Glancing back to the toddler in the keep, drips of sweat starts to run down his forehead when seeing the toddler rolling around in his sleep; little grunts escaping from the baby’s mouth as it snoozes. Oh no! Of all the places to land in!

Realizing what sort of dicey situation he was in, Tore starts to slowly back away from the occupied crib as his eyes frantically wander around the room for an alternate escape. Need to find another way out before this little tike wakes up. Come on. Where’s the door? Where’s another door!? Midst the blue boys rapidly growing panic, he starts to crack a smile when his eyes lock out the side of the toddlers bedroom and discover another wooden door left along the side of the balcony. That very same smile shatters in but an instance when the angel feels himself fall back against a lone toy left in the middle of the floor; his back slamming against the floor with a loud thud. After harshly falling right onto the floor, the blue boy peeks back up towards the crib and his relieved to find the young tike having snoozed past his little trip. Oh, thank god.

That same relief is swiftly dashed away when the very same toy that he had tripped over begins to glow out a dozen colors and play a rather loud early preschool tune; the music echoing through the bedroom and causing the horned toddler to wake up crying. As the young child continues to scream out, a feminine voice sounds off from the locked door cries out for: “Issac.” Hearing a sharp click from that very door, Tore quickly picks himself right off the floor and starts to hurry over to the other way out; one of the doors swinging right open to reveal a human woman dressed in red and wielding a long sword bursting onto the scene irradiating a lot of ferocious mama bear energy. “I’m here baby. I-”

The very first site that her dagger eyes find tainting the confines of her very child’s bedroom be the blue boy busting straight through the door leading right to the crimson hallway. Determined to not let this blue ruffian get away with scaring her child, the long haired brunette flips her weapon around and hurls it out to the intruder like a throwing javelin; Tore glancing back as he races through the hall to see the razor sharp blade careening right at his back. Hoping to evade the oncoming swords deadly tip, Tore springs into the air just in time as the blade approaches; the weapons razor edge brushing right along the crotch of his pants as it thrusts right underneath the blue boy. Having evaded the horrible sting of the moms blade, the blue boy continues to flee out towards the turn up ahead; the mom stopping right in the doorway of her child’s bedroom as she watches the intruder flee, all the while hearing him repeat out: “I’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorry!”

Once having escaped that dicey situation, the indigo angel hops right off the floor as his wings pop out from his back; gliding through the crimson halls of the castle as he peeks back for any sign of the sword wielding woman. Thankfully, he fails to find even a bit of her anywhere in site and lets out a shuttering breath. Oh god, that was way too close. Another moment late and the old jewels would’ve been skewered. Left utterly impaled by the cold steel of a protective mother; oh irony would have been as poignant as the following pain. Don’t really know how much a difference it would’ve made afterwords though. Never really was much a horny bastard as Roy is. I-...God, ain’t got the time to think about the aftermath of post makeshift castration surgery. Need to get back on track here.

Thrusting his hand right into his pants pocket, Tore digs through his blue denim jeans for a moment before pulling out the very halo that his mentor had bestowed to him before they had split off. The blue boy takes a minute to inspect the ring glossy golden sheen for any sort of buttons or switches that could make the radar appear. How do you even turn this on? As the boy attempts to search along the rings inner rim, his hand slides along the edge of the gadget finally gets the map to flash right on; unfortunately engulfing his entire head in its light and causing him to careen right into the curved crimson hall ahead of him.

After the brickwork that makes up the wall all topples down onto the blue boy, Tore effortlessly digs himself right out from the debris and takes a peek at the map that the halo expelled from its middle; a pair of small dots pulsing along the 3-D map of the hellish stronghold. The indigo angel knew for sure that the blue dot perched along the top of the keep was where he stands; but finds the other yellow pulsing deep beneath the underworld palace. Kay, so our little prize here is practically buried right under this whole hellbound palace; a little redundant here, but where else would they really put it. It would be faster to bust through each floor right into the basement, but that could draw way too much attention. Gotta stick to the plan here, Tore, no matter how dumb and boring it is. Hope Mall is out there having fun at least.

Back outside the crimson castle’s walls does a seemingly endless onslaught of numerous demons all pour out from the front of the stronghold; all of them baring their weapons, fangs and claws as they charge out to the cosmic angel. Despite their overwhelming numbers, not even one of them is able to even close in on the galactic angel as Mall casts forth a wave of pure space that sends a large chunk of the army flying back; some of them demon’s slamming right into the castle they emerged from while others careen out into the hellish horizon. The pieces of this army that have evaded this angels powerful wave all slip out from the edge and curve back towards both of the man’s sides in hopes of pulling off a pinching counterattack. Seeing both of of the approaching groups of demon’s closing in, Mall stretches his arms out towards the pair of swarming monsters and opens the palms of his hands to unveil a pair of rapidly growing wormholes. Though the two nearing armies attempt to stop themselves from running right into these holes, they’re already caught within their gravitational pull and are sucked straight into their cosmic depths.

As the angel dispels these wormholes does he feel something lumber out from behind; Mall turning around to discover a towering giant of molten lava, cracked brimstone, and burnt flesh all erupt out from the brimstone plains the castle overlooks. Witnessing the lumbering behemoth charge towards him, Mall puts both of his wrist together and opens another cosmic wormhole before the racing giant; launching forth the various winged beasts that he had sucked right a moment ago towards fiery amalgamation. The numerous demons fired upon the towering behemoth unwittingly dig their claws and weapons right into the monsters burnt, but soft flesh and magma; the overwhelming barrage causing the giant to trip and plummet down into the lake molten lava below.

Gliding right form the castle windows do several other demon’s donning fiery masks and dressed in arcane attire all over out to the battlements to face the angelic threat to their kings keep; their hands glowing like the very fires of their natural hellish dominion. The whole collective of arcane demons all surround the cosmic man and wave their hands out to the angel; small sparking flames beginning to surround Mall as the demon’s wave their glowing palms at him, soon rapidly growing together to form a massive hellish ball of flames that engulf the angel in its overwhelming heat. Right when these magical demon’s think they might have quelled this cosmic threat, the very sun they have conjured around the angel suddenly starts to implode; the demonic magicians witnessing their ball of searing flames being consumed a single black dot piercing through its middle. Soon is every single one of their embers consumed within a black hole hosted in the palm of the cosmic angel’s very hands; Mall clasping his palms to both close the hole and expel a force of space that sends the demon wizards all careening away in different directions.

Planning for a counter attack of his own, Mall reaches down for the brimstone making up the cliff side behind him and uproots the very rock from the hellish earth; the magma held within still freshly glowing as he hovers the fiery boulders to his sides. When clutching his hands into fists do these same rocks break apart under his spacial grasp and split into smaller flaming stones; the cosmic angel then casting these rocks right out to the walls of the castle; each stone beating against the crimson brickwork and causing the palace to tremble. As the angel continues to launch the salvo of rocks like a meteor shower, a column of hellfire sears out from behind him; Mall sensing a looming threat as humanoid figure with demonic horns and three fiery red eyes hovers out from the pillar of flames.

Within the halls of the hellbound keep itself, a whole battalion of demonic soldiers donning orange armor and twisted weapons all hurry through the hallway; the one leading the troops glaring back to the army and stating how: “My soldiers. We must defend this keep from the siege outside long enough for the royal family to safely escape; fight like your kingdom is on the line!” The demonic armada cheers out from their captains words as they all rush through the palace corridors; not a one even noticing the young blue boy perched along the overhanging arches above them as they continue forth.

Once the whole army had marched around the corner, Tore drop right back down onto the hallway’s velvet carpeted floor; a small groan escaping from his mouth as he glances back to where the demon had left. God, this sucks. Down here in the literal capital of hell itself and this angel’s stuck with sneaking past all of it. Could’ve took those guys on single handedly too. Be at least a little fun to whomp these grunt soldiers. Upon these thoughts does Tore then feel the entire castle quake beneath his feet; the blue boy nearly falling over from the trembling hallway. Feel’s like Mall’s out there having loads of fun. Its then that parts of the hall he stand within begin to break apart under the constant trembling; the brickwork, pillars, and arches that make up the corridor all collapsing of the stone walls and crashing to the floor. Alright, now we got some action. Time to put it in gear!

While the crimson hallway he dwells in breaks apart, the blue boy takes off through the crumbling scene playing out before him; witnessing the arches and columns tumble down towards him. Dashing out through the crumbling halls, the indigo angel weaves himself all around the debris that fall from above; squeezing through the brief gaps that he finds between the cluster of descending crimson brick. In his rocketing hurry forth, Tore comes to witness the very ceiling ahead collapse all at once in heap of crumbled bricks and fractured pillars piled up before him; failing to give the boy even a single bit of room to past. Despite the seemingly impassable mess of castle reminiscence blocking his way, the blue boy refuses to slow down by even a smidgen; instead flying faster towards the wreckage as he raises both himself and his fist into the air. Once ascending high up to the fractured ceiling, the indigo angel starts to bomb down towards the mess of impassable wreckage and hammer his fist down upon the mess of hellish bricks; the entire blockade exploding in a shower of rubble with just a single strike as Tore slide along the floor in the aftermath. As Tore’s skid starts to come to a crawl, he starts to feel the entire palace begin to calm down and cease its constant trembling; the indigo angel letting out a relieved sigh when feeling the floor beneath him stop shaking. Whew, glad things are starting to settle. Better hurry before Mall makes the whole place fall into the lava lake below.

But just as the blue boy was about to take off through the rest of the hellish hallway; his ears catch a lone groan echoing out from right behind him; Tore nearly falling to the floor as he stopped dead in his tracks. Whoa! Where’s that coming from? Peeking back around towards the mess of crimson bricks behind him, his site trails around for wherever the continuing low moan could be coming from; soon tracing these cries of pain out towards a pile of rubble set along the wayside. Almost immediately tracing where the groaning his coming from does he zip straight to the debris and start to shovel through the broken bricks with his bare hands. After tossing aside a chunk of one of the castles pillars, the indigo angel finally uncovers the very source of the painful moans; reaching into the depths of the pile and dragging out a lone girl with maroon pink hair and three eyes dressed in a torn regal dress. Once dragging the horned girl out from the rubble does he soon discover the countless spots of blood red staining her dress; all bleeding alongside the numerous cuts and bruises that litter her pinkish red skin. Oh man, that don’t look to good. She’s bleeding pretty badly here. Doubt she’d wake up in time to get any first aid.

Tore takes a peek down both sides of the crimson corridor before kneeling down to the wounded teenage girl; his hands looming over her body’s bruises as his palms start to glow a multitude of colors. Right, here goes. The very moment that the angel places his palms upon the wounded young girl, the light that emanates from his very palms start to slither all around her body and circle around her bleeding wounds; Tore watching as the glow seeps straight into her cuts and starts to close them all up; the girl’s very skin regenerating right over these bruises as if they have never formed. Once all of the girls visible wounds had been fully healed, the indigo angel lifts her right off the cracked castle floor and puts his ears right up to her chest in hopes of hearing a heartbeat over her breasts; drips of sweat running down his forehead when hearing nothing but silence. A few brief moments pass before the blue boy hears the girls heart beat once more to the rhythm of life; a relieved smile stretching across his face. That very same smile starts to waver when beginning to hear multiple heartbeats playing alongside the one he had listened to, almost like hearing an entire drum band performing their seasonal tour gig right in her very inside. Well, guess she alive...I-I think...I-No-no time to think too much into this; there’s a search nod that needs retrieved.

Setting the girl gently back down onto the floor, Tore leaps up and takes up through the rest of the castle hall up ahead; the girl he leaves behind begin to awaken from her wounded stupor and shakes her head as the sound of gliding wings invade her ears. Arising from the cracked crimson floor, the young teenage girl looks out to the hall with all three of her eyes to discover only the bright pale wings of a lone figure gliding right around the corner. The demonic young woman brushes her hands right along the spots of her torn silk dress, the parts of her body where she had felt the worst pain left patched up and healed; almost as if the tormenting agony she had felt had been nothing but a nightmare.

Gilding past that solved cause for panic, the indigo angel at last comes to the very end of the hall to discover an open doorway leading into nothing but darkness; his wings piercing through the void to let him find a massive spiraling staircase beyond the door. Gazing down the very stairwell, Tore fails to find the bottom of the hollow well among the darkness. This trip just keeps going deeper and deeper down, don’t it. Practically boiling down here hotter then the surface of the lava. First feels like the old jewels down there were on the verge of freezing off back in the mountains, now this scorching heats making it feel like somebody’s eyeballs are just seconds away from melting right out of their skull. God, don’t know what would be worse, the agony of having your peepers melting away, or the horrible eternal darkness ya gotta suffer through afterwards; with nothing but the burning pain from the scars to taunt ya...What the hell is going through my head here!? Need to get back on track here. Placing all of that horrid mental imagery in the back of his head, Tore decides to spur the comforting, but slow pace of taking the stairs and rather takes a the daring leap straight down into the depths of the castles dark crimson pit; the glow of his pale wings illuminating the darkness as he flutters down into the depths.

During the young angel’s constant descent further down into the pit below, the staircase that spirals down along the wall starts to break off and vanish from the walls despite the well continuing down to what felt to the young man like miles on end. His plummeting descent is then suddenly accompanied by what sounded like horrible outcries of despair and shrieks of dread; all of which grow ever louder the further Tore descends down through the depths. What with all the noise? What else could they have stowed away down here?

At long last does the indigo angel finally discover the bottom among all the seemingly endless darkness; the floor and the walls left along the bottom devoid of any sort of constructed brick. All that remained for the blue boy to find was the very bedrock of the earth holding veins of the planets very molten lifeblood underneath. Gazing around the jagged bedrock, Tore finds a lone tunnel stretching through the surrounding darkness; all the horrible screams and agonizing cries coming from what lies in its depths. Thrusting his hand straight into his denim pockets, Tore swiftly pulls out the golden halo that Mall had entrusted him with; brushing his hand along its very rim to make the map appear and finding the glowing dot being simply a straight shot down this very tunnel. With the mcguffin not much farther, Tore takes off down the blistering hot tunnel, the sweat dripping through his body evaporating mere seconds after coming out. Keep it cool, Tore. This little heatwaves practically nothing against what your used to.

In his trip through the darkened bedrock tunnel does the boy eventually discover a bright light shinning along the end of the tunnel; constant sonata of agony ringing at its absolute loudest. Tore stops along the very end of the tunnel to behold the very source of this strange glow and desperate cries. Standing before the blue boy be a giant wall of multiple glowing orbs attached to one another; each one set in the shape glowing incorporeal bodies all crying out and moaning in despair and agony. Wow, this looks freaky? Just what even is it, and why is it kept down here? Pulling out the radar once more, the angel discovers himself just mere paces away from the very nod that he was tasked to retrieve; literally just beyond the wall of wailing heads and bodies. Whatever it is, it ain’t gonna stand in the way of getting that nod.

The blue boy takes a daring lunge right towards the wall of screams with his hand held high, thrusting his fist right into the one of the heads slithering the surface; the entire wall violently pulsing and shrieking when upon feeling the angel’s strike. The overwhelming pulse that reverberates from this very wall causes the angel to tumble backwards; Tore covering his ears as he keeps himself from falling on his ass. Gah! Man, that thing is hella loud; almost popped an ear drum just hearing it scream. Seems like simply pushing through this whole wall won’t be enough. Maybe it’d like a little bit of power thrown its way.

As the young man steps back a little bit further away, he starts to charge up a ball of pale power right between the palms of his hands; the gathering power illuminating through out the entire bedrock tunnel as it grows more and more. Finally does the blue boy fire out a concentrated beam of pale power right out from his hands and straight towards the wall of countless glowing heads and bodies. The very moment that the ray hits the wall do the heads along the surface such every bit of their power straight into their screaming maws; every piece of his blast devoured by the numerous bodies within the wall. After every bit of the beam had been eaten up, the wall lets out a small reverberating belch that echoes out through the tunnel behind; Tore gawking at the wall with an incredibly confused stare. Di-...Did it seriously just eat my beam? I-It just ate it up like an ice cream sundae! How did-What the actual… Before the young man could wind himself up too much on the bullshit that he had just bared witness to, the blue boy calms himself down and returns his gaze to the glowing wall set before him. Alright, hitting it didn’t work. Blasting it didn’t work. What else hasn’t been tried here?

Staring to the numerous colorful heads and bodies that slither along the surface of this bizarre wall, watching them all wriggle around reminds him of something familiar; something that he had recently experienced. Those things. What are they? They looks pretty familiar. They kinda look like all those things that gathered around when sitting on that throne back in the Kybr city. And those things strangely looked like people I know. But what’s something like this doing in the bottom of hell, though. Whatever they might be, this wall and what when down when sitting on that chair look way too similar to just be a coincidence. Wonder what would happen if…

Wishing to test something out, Tore slowly approaches the wall of glowing bodies once more and reaches his open hands out to those held within; gently resting his hands along the very blockade itself. As soon as the young man’s palms touch the blockade, every single being trapped within the wall aims their eyes of pure white down upon the angel holding his hands out to them. Uh… Without even so much as a single warning do all of them start to thrust themselves straight down into the indigo angel’s mouth; Tore struggling to even pull himself back and scream as every single one of them force their way into him. Once the last of these people finally slither their way into the young boy, Tore stumbles down onto the bedrock underneath him; his throat glowing a multitude of colors as he lays there to catch his breath before fading away. Ow...Wish all that would’ve gone down a little better. Slowly pulling himself right off the warm bedrock ground, Tore then sees the wall that had once obstructed his path to have been dispelled; the angel finding the very search nod he had descended down into the depths of the castle to retrieve standing atop a pedestal of hardened magma.

A big smile stretches across the boy’s cheeks as he glides over to the winged golden ring, the light from the magma veins that decorate the chambers bedrock reflecting off the nod as the indigo angel starts to inspect every inch of its rim. How did Mall say to shrink this oversize wedding ring down to pinkie size again? He put his hand on it and it just started shrinking down to size. He mentioned something about spreading your power through the ring and it’ll just scale down on its own. So, it should start to go down when…

Thinking back to when his spacial mentor had shrunk down the nod he had found deep in the heart of the snowy mountains, Tore slaps the palm of his hand right onto the outer rim of the giant ring and injects his own power straight through the rings golden surface. The giant ring takes in his energy and begins to illuminate a rainbow of colors along its shinning surface, reducing its own size before the blue boy’s very eyes. Soon enough does the once impressively massive golden ring is reduced to the size of but a mere pinky ring; the indigo angel swiping the search nod from the magma pedestal and dunking the precious mcguffin straight into his white blazers inner pocket, zipping the zipper pocket tight to safely secure the nod. Right, got the mcguffin in hand. Better glide right on outta here before the old buns in the back of the trunk start to burn up in this natural kitchen stove. The very prize he came all this way down for safely secure, Tore takes off back down the very bedrock tunnel he had flown down from at breakneck speeds; the magma veins orange glow mixing alongside the angel’s illuminating wings.

Held within one of the dark red strongholds rooms above, a whole army of demonic soldiers all scuttle around within preparing for battle; the bigger of the demon’s helping the others in readying themselves to face the threat outside. Its in that moment that the biggest demon of all step before them and grabs their attention with: “Alright, ladies and gents!” Each any every soldier in the room breaks their site away over to the presenting demon as the giant continues with: “My friends! The day has finally come for us to truly serve our beloved ruler in defending our homes very capital from this holy menace that seeks to tear it down. We fight on this day not only for our livelihoods, but for the royal family’s lives, the gentle young prince, the sprite princess, the fierce queen and the fiery king. I swear upon this day that the sanction of this hellish palace shall remain unbreached!” Upon the giant demon’s speech does the rest of the army cheer out with their own brands of outcries and praise; the entire room echoing with sentiments of: “We’ll follow you to the ends of hell captain!” “Lets get out there and show them what hell’s forces are made of!” Interrupting these praising outcries does the floor all of them stands upon start to tremble and fracture beneath their feet; all of them gazing down to find a bright pale light leaking out from the growing cracks. Despite their desperate attempts to scramble away from the expected burst, not a single one of them makes it out in time as the floor beneath them explodes in a flash of white light.

The bright flash start to dim away to reveal the resulting explosion having reduced the demonic army’s quarters to rubble; several of the demon’s still left conscious moaning in pain as they remain buried in dark red debris. The indigo angel hover right out from the depths of the hole he had blasted, letting out a sharp hiss as he beholds the result of his reckless escape back up to the castle’s main floor. “Ooh, didn’t think anyone was still in here. Everybody okay?” “Yeah, think so.” “My friend’s still breathing.” “I can’t see my own brain matter, so I guess I’m fine.” Just little cut, but I’m mostly- Your brain matter?” “Okay, that’s a relief. Sorry about the mess.” the blue angel apologies’ with before taking off through the door leading to the hall. “Wait, which one of you said that? Darfon? Letta? Jenovo?” “I literally just woke up, what the hell happened?”

Gliding right out from the depths of the crimson corridor does the Tore finally make it out to an open hall decorated within numerous statues seemingly carved from bone and brimstone, several treasures that sparkle through the rooms crimson air, and dozens of painting’s hanging along the walls of the hall. One of these painting hanging overhead manages to grab his attention; a family of four dressed in royal attire, three of which Tore seemed to recognize. The youngest boy being the very same one he saw in the cradle, the older woman being the same one who thrown a long sword and nearly cut his testicles off, and the older girl being the very one he pulled out from the castle rubble. Don’t really know who the man with the demon horns and three eyes are, but it might be a good guess to say that its the big boss around here that Mall talked about. King Lucy-something? Peering down beneath this painting of the royal family, the indigo angel finds the front doors of the stronghold left cracked open; able to see a bit of hell’s fiery red horizon out from the little bit of the open door. Last stretch right here, just bust through the door and were home free.

Taking right off to the open front doors, the blue boy’s eager escape is put to a stop when pillars of flaming obsidian breach out beneath the crimson floor; popping out all around every side of the entrance hall and blocking off every possible escape he could take. Tore could practically feel the scorching heat irradiate off these pillars as all of them rise up, practically trapping the angel in a thick cage of flaming black. Once the entire entrance hall is covered in these obsidian flames, a great pillar of blazing flames bursts out from the floor behind him; the indigo angel peering back to witness a dark horned figure rising out from the column of searing inferno and glaring out to him with three blazing red eyes. The hellfire subsides as the fissure beneath the figure closes back up, revealing to the young boy the very same man depicted in the royal family portrait; his glowing eyes dimming to show his contemptuous glare.

After taking in a deep breath, the man goes on to first state how: “To think that you two not only have the sheer audacity to stage an attack upon the very capital of hell, you, young man, dare to break into my crimson palace, terrorize my family, and break the sealed souls of the damned to poach my ancestors most sacred treasure. Word simply pale to describe the furious contempt that boils within my very body upon knowing your actions. I guarantee you, young man, that for these unforgivable sins, that you shall never see the comforting light of the sun for the rest of eternity. Your soul shall be damned to the deepest darkest pit of hell!” Upon these words does the kings unkempt fury finally flare out in the form of a raging inferno that exudes out from his pale lavender skin; the angel before him readying himself as he blocks the incredible heat blasting out from the demon’s very body. Guess he’s beyond talking through things here. Doesn’t seem like there’s any other option. Gotta fight this one out!

Immediately right out of the gate does the king thrust his palms out to the floor the blue boy stands under; Tore leaping into the air as the crimson ground fractures and cracks beneath him. From the inside of this dark red brickwork does a geyser of colorful souls spew out through the fractured floor; the myriad of spirits letting out their chilling wails as they wrap themselves around the boy’s entire body and begin to pull him back down into the fissures depths. “Ah, let me go!” the boy screams as he tries to brute force his way out from the souls grasp; the spirits refusing to free him as they drag the angel down closer and closer towards the open fissure. When closing in to the fiery crack along the crimson floor, Tore lets out a furious growl as his entire body begins to emit a powerful light; a bright flash bursting from the boy’s very being as he once more demands: “I said, let go!” The king of demon’s shields his very eyes from the incredible glow, peeking between his fingers to see the very spirits he had summoned all being drawn straight into the angel’s body; their outcries of agony silenced upon being consumed. The boy’s glow begins to finally dim after every spirit is absorbed; the crack along the floor closing back up. The royal demon peeks back to the boy, finding not even a single trace of his summoned souls left along the indigo angel’s body as the young man looks around himself. “Again?” Tore utters. “Hrmph. Fine. If the souls of the damned are not capable of taking you. Then I shall plunge you into the scorching hellfire myself!”

Declaring this to the angel, the fiery king casts out a wave of molten lava straight to the blue boy; the red hot goo rising up after the hovering young man. Tore rockets right towards the wave of rising magma and glides right over, feeling the goo’s intense scorching heat as he hovers right over its surface. Quickly after flying right over the kings boiling wave does he toss out a ball of light towards his fiery foe; the royal demon smacking the orb aside with but the back of his hand. Turning back toward his blue foe, the king sees the angel rocketing right in front of him and preparing to deliver a straight strike; the devil catching his fist with the very hand he had swatted his orb away with. Clutching the angel’s fist tight, the three eyed demon throws the blue angel right over his head and dive bombs straight down to dark red floor; slamming the boy straight down onto the ground with a thunderous pound. Remaining held down onto the floor, Tore witnesses his demonic foe’s cheek start to rapidly swell as they glow a bright orange; the boy struggling to free himself from the kings iron grip as his foe’s cheeks grow bigger and bigger. After looking over to find his legs free, the indigo angel flips backwards and drives his feet straight into the demon’s jaw; the king’s mouth forced up as the blow makes him unleash a bout of hellfire out from his maw.

The blow sends the fiery demon sliding back and free’s the angel from his grasp; Tore dashing away towards the front of the stairs and prepares for what the king’s next move may be. As soon as the devil stops sliding back, he reaches both of his arms out to the twin stairs that stand right behind the blue boy; the pair of staircases uprooting themselves from the floor upon their kings command. Feeling the ground right behind him tremor, the indigo angel gazes back to witness the stairs rise up akin to a twin headed serpent; both of the starting steps suddenly hammering themselves straight down towards him. The blue boy leaps back from the twin stairwells as they thrusts themselves into the floor, one of these staircases pulling itself out and lunging out to the retreating angel; the steps inflicting a powerful uppercut that sends Tore flying straight upwards. Having sent the angel careening, the other case of steps reaches right up and wraps itself around the angel like a crimson constrictor; the blue boy failing to free himself from its grasp as the stairs that sent him up join and squeeze the young man in their vice grip. Watching as the twin stairs tighten their grasp, the demon king soon witnesses the blue boy beginning to break apart their chiseled brimstone with but his arms and legs; punching and kicking through the constricting staircases until they’re reduced to nothing but rubble. Right at the very moment that the Tore manages to free himself from the steps grasp, the angel aims his site upwards to see the demonic king hover above and hurdle a massive ball of flames straight down towards the boy; sending him crashing straight down towards the floor.

Once the fires subside, the angel opens his eyes to witness the royal demon rapidly plummeting straight down towards him; his foot letting out a blazing inferno like a descending meteor. Moments before the devil could stamp his fiery foot down upon the blue boy, Tore leaps right off the floor and off to the side; evading the brick shattering stomp. Though the indigo angel attempts to gain some distance from the fiery demon, the king takes grasp of his ankle before he could take the chance to fly far; his royal foe’s scorching hot grasp burning his leg. Holding the angelic intruder in his grasp, the king of hell tosses the young man straight out to the blockade of flaming obsidian; Tore feeling the walls intense heat right on his as he crashes straight into the pillars of fiery black. Raising his eyes out to where he had been thrown, the blue boy sees the demonic king thrust his fingers straight through the crimson floor; columns of raging magma erupting from the floor and traveling towards the young man. Before the pillars of molten liquid could come and consume him, Tore kicks himself right out from the obsidian wall and takes off to the side of the entrance hall; firing out a beam of pale white from the palm of his hands.

With nothing but his own palm does the king block the pale ray, letting him see the blue boy jump up hand rocket down towards him; Tore preparing to deliver a powerful punch to his horned head. With his other hand, the his demonic majesty catches the young man’s fist before the angel could drive it right into his face; refusing to let go as the king keeps him trapped under his grasp. Left caught in the kings grip, the blue boy tries to thrust his fingers right into the royal demon’s eyes; the king catching his other hand before he could even land the blow. Both of his hands caught within the demon’s clutches, the indigo angel then attempts to thrust his legs straight into his fiery foe’s stomach; a fiery explosion going off between the two right as Tore was about to kick. The sudden blast of flames sends the blue angel crashing straight into the entry halls ceiling; the devil rising right up to the boy with a column of lava lifting him up. Tore opens his eyes to find the demonic king rising right up at him with flames in his very hands; the boy quickly prying himself right off the roof and lunge right out to the approaching king. Failing to expect the blue boy to charge right at him, the king is left with little time to react as the angel dives straight down and slaps his hand right into his face; Tore firing out a powerful ray from his palm at point blank and sending the devil crashing right into his own obsidian barricade.

Gently hovering down to the crimson floor, the blue boy takes the brief moment to take a little breather; gazing upon his body to see the numerous burns he had suffered during the ordeal. His palms glow a warm light as Tore runs them along his whole body; taking the time to mend these fiery wounds. Mall wasn’t kidding. This guys hella tough. Pretty much see why he’s the king of the underworld. Don’t really know how long all that will keep him down, but hopefully it should be long enough to figure out a way out of here. Just need to figure out how to bust through those flaming walls.

Before the boy could even try to formulate a plan of escape, a pair of limbs suddenly burst out from dark red floor and tightly grasp the angel’s legs; Tore struggling to escape from their clutches as the rest of the body rises from the bubble molten magma to reveal the king himself. Keeping the blue angel trapped within his very grip, the fiery demon’s mouth opens his maw wide and begin to collect the embers of the underworld that linger around them both; these sparked gathering into an incredible flame that threatens to bellow out and expunge the blue boy in its raging blaze. Right before these flames could be unleashed, Tore clasps both of his wrists and fires a pale beam straight down into the kings open mouth; the surprising blast staggering the fiery king and forcing him to let go of the angel. As soon as he is freed from the royal demon’s hold, the boy hovers out just as the kings mouth erupts in a fiery explosion; the very edges of the expelling flames brushing right against the retreating young man’s back and scorching his rear.

Having been afflicted by these burns, Tore plummets back down onto the hall floor and stumbles back until coming to the rim of the obsidian cage; the young boy letting out a pained hiss as he feels his back sting. Though he attempts to fight through the pain and starts to get off the floor, his efforts to rise back into the fight are thwarted then and there as he gazes up to the king of demon’s looming over him; the devils dark shadow engulfing the boy’s body. With his fiery foe literally standing before him, the angel’s mind races on how he could possibly escape; realizing that there was very little he could do.

Glaring down upon the grounded angel with a flaming red stare, the king simply demands that he: “Surrender...and kneel.” The royal devils request is spurred as the young man slowly rises right off the floor; peering up to the king of hell to say: “I refuse to die…Not without fighting to my last breath...and raise this part of hell.” The angel before him looks up to him with dead set determination; a sigh escaping from him as he shakes his head. “Fine. Your way it is.” Holding his hands out towards the young man, a small ember starts to quickly grow between his palms; the bellowing blaze’s fiery orange glow shinning upon Tore’s front.

At last does the demon king unleash the gathered flames in a blazing eruption; Tore holding his arms against his face as the inferno rapidly approaches. Moments before the indigo angel could be engulfed in the searing fires, the devil’s blazing fury is unexpectedly thwarted as they split off away in front of the blue boy; the angel lowering his arms to find his devilish foes expression matching his own confused glare. “What!?” Out from behind the royal demon, a single hand grasps the demonic kings neck and lifts the devils entire body right off his feet; the young Kybr peeking right behind the king of demons to discover his cosmic mentor holding him by his very neck. “What do you think you’re doing to my pupil.” Mall growls, a contemptuous glare glistening in his eyes. “You!? You’re still alive!? Were the fiery pits of the damned not enough to hold you?” “No space in this universe can ever contain me.” From declaring such, the galactic angel faces the demonic king out towards the opposite side of the room and lets out a spacial force that launches his fiery foe right out to the obsidian wall in just a heartbeat, powerful enough to send cracks along the blockade of flaming black. Having tossed the king of hell aside, Mall turns back to his indigo student as he slowly picks himself off the floor; offering his hand as he asks him: “Will you be alright? Taking his mentor helping hand, he feels the cosmic angel lift him back on his feet; answering how: “Yeah, I’ll fine. This ain’t nothing I can’t fix up.” Standing back up, Tore then reaches right around to his backside and gently places his palms right onto his afflicted burns; a small hiss escaping from his teeth before his hands begin to glow out their comforting warmth.

Soon enough are all the boy’s severe burns that cover his very back are fully fixed; his melted skin returning whole once more as the burning pain subsides. “Phew, glad all that’s gone. Am I really glad to see you, Mall; you seriously weren’t kidding about this guy. Just from the way he fights, you can tell that he’s practically the embodiment of hell itself all wrapped up in a devilishly handsome man shaped box. But I more than bet that with you on the scene, we can both beat him back and fly outta this castle together.” Taking a quick peek back to the very royal demon that he had thrown back, he could more than tell he was on the verge of getting back up at any moment; the king letting out groans and growls as starts to reawaken. “Tore. Have you found the search nod?” he asks his pupil. “Yep. Got it stashed away in my blazer pocket right here.” “Good.” Upon hearing his students confirmation, Mall thrust his arms out to the obsidian columns that stand right behind the blue boy and widens the gaps between the pillars; the space expanding to give a view of the hellish horizon outside. “You must leave and escape to the surface while there’s still time.” “But...what are you gonna do?” the indigo angel asks his spacial master as he looks away from the freshly made opening. “I shall stay behind and keep the king of demons at bay to give you the time to flee.” “You’re seriously wanting me to leave you behind!? Hell no! Ain’t no way I’m gonna let you face this guy yourself. If your that eager for me to get outta here, let’s just leave together.” “This is not up for debate, Tore! So long as we dwell within this fiery domain, there is nowhere that the devil cannot reach us.” “But I can’t-” “Tore, listen to me. If both of us fall here, then our journey thus far shall be all for nothing. There will be nobody left to free our kind from their eternal dimensional prison. I’m begging you, my boy, no matter what fate may befall me, that you shall flee from the walls of this crimson keep and you shall never look back.” A moment passes as the blue angel’s eyes shift between the hole waiting behind him and his mentor gazing down to him; a frustrated growl leaking out from his teeth upon finally heeding his mentor’s request and taking out towards the fiery horizon.

As the Mall closes the gap that his pupil had slipped out through, the royal devil behind him starts to pick himself off the floor and glares out to the cosmic angel; the galactic man turning back to face the hellish king as his majesty tells the angel: “Don’t think I haven’t figured out what this whole assault has been about. But I never thought I would see the day I would have to defend my family’s treasure from you, Kybr.” “You know of us?” “Indeed I do. Did you really believe that my ancestors would leave me in the dark about something so critical that lied sealed underneath my very own castle. To be honest, for the longest time, I simply thought nothing of it. With only a few Kybr known to exist, ignorant of their origin, how could I?” “A palpable mistake. If your ancestors had bothered to tell you that much about us, then surely they have more than warned you of what we are capable of. Of who you stand against.” “They surely have. Which is why I shall see to it that they are never freed.”

With this declaration, the royal demon thrusts the palm of his hands right underneath the cosmic angels feet; the floor beneath Mall breaking apart in cracks of red and erupting out in a pillar of red hot magma that engulfs his entire body. The demonic king’s bold stare is shaken when watching the spacial angel part the ascending column of fiery hot liquid from his body; all with not even a single burn to speak of along his body. Simply hovering right out from within the pillar of magma, Mall then thrusts his finger straight through the air before him; an incredible glow stretching out and widening in front of the demonic king as the angel runs his finger across. From this gash left in space does an entire torrent of cosmic matter start to pour out towards the king of hell; the fiery devil erecting before him a wall of blazing obsidian as the wave of space approaches. This sheer volume of cosmic power crashes right into the wall of blazing black, quickly beginning to crumble apart against its unending flow. When witnessing the entire blockade break under the torrent cosmic energy, Mall pinches one of the torn rifts ends and slides his fingers across to restitch the very air before him and make the flow of spacial power cease. Upon closing the rift back up does the cosmic angel see everything he had unleash the wave onto reduced to stardust, with nothing but embers left wafting where his majesty once stood. That was far too easy. What are you planning?

Knowing full well that his hellish foe is far from destroyed, Mall slowly ascends up to the middle of the entrance hall; the little embers scattering through the air as the cosmic angel awaits his demonic adversary’s next move. The embers that surround him than start to rapidly enlarge; the angel witnessing them swiftly grow more fierce and on the verge of bursting out before him. Once growing to the size of his head, all the enlarged embers that surround the starry angel finally go off and engulf the entire hall in a raging inferno. The bellow of smoke resulting from the blazing explosion starts to clear out through the cracks of the castle, with pieces of the floor continuing to burn and smolder. Among the smoke does Mall remain utterly unharmed; the space surrounding him wafting the smoke away. Upon putting this spacial shield away, Mall continues to gaze around for any sign of the demonic king himself; taunting out: “Is this really all the current ruler of the underworld is capable of? I remember when the Kybr of yore fought against your very ancestors; their might was truly something to behold with one’s own eyes. Even drawing forth what you would deem respect from us. Has the annals of time sanded away your families might?”

The embers behind the angel gather together to recreate the devils very limb as it reaches out to man’s back; the hands very claws squeezing the back of Mall’s neck as the rest of the king’s body reforms and tells him. “Believe me, I am nowhere near finished.” Right out from the very hand he holds his galactic foe, the fiery king engulf the angel in a layer of blazing fires; Mall letting out a painful scream as these flames quickly coat his entire body. Having lit his starry intruder ablaze, the king of hell throws the cosmic angel down towards the floor of his entry hall; Mall flaring like a descending comet as he acts fast and lifts his arms up. Stretching his arms out in opposite directions, Mall fires out a pair of tiny cosmic glints both underneath where he careens down and right on the very ceiling above the king; these glittering lights expanding into full blown wormholes. When diving straight down through the hole planted along the floor, Mall drops right out of the other set along the roof of the entry hall; the fires that crawl along his body fade as he divebombs down towards his royal highness. Peeking right up towards the approaching angel, the king could do little as his starry intruder delves down at breakneck speeds; quickly raising his hands high to attempt and block Mall ramming assault. When the two of their bodies collide, a powerfully intense wave of hellish flames and cosmic space echoes out from the castle and travels out beyond; the impact causing the entirety of hell itself to quake.

The cosmic angel right up in the demonic rulers face, the king spews out a glob of lava straight into his angelic foe’s very eyes; Mall reeling back from the hellish king and crying out as he slides the sizzling goo right off. While the angelic man continues to feel the burns left along his eyes; the demon king takes the chance to wave his hand out towards the stunned angel, a stream of more souls streaking right out from the obsidian wall and flowing straight towards his galactic foe. When these damned spirits pass straight through the angel’s very body, an overwhelming sharp sting reverberates through his body; the pain of which is enough to make him cry out. After feeling that unexpected bout of agony, Mall witnesses another bout of souls streak out towards him; the cosmic angel twisting the very space around him to attempt and ward off the spirits. But the very wall of twisted space doing very little to heed the damned soul as it simply passes right through both the barricade and him; Mall feeling these spirits horrible torment surge through his insides.

Having realized the angel’s alkalies heel, the king of hell then spreads his arms out to the obsidian walls beside him; a whole flurry of tormented souls all phasing through these black walls and glide out to the cosmic angel. Realizing the predicament he is, all that Mall could do was weave and dodge the flood of spirits that hunger for his very essence; a couple of them managing to pass through him and widdle down his defenses. Soon do more and more of these spirits begin to pass through and inflict their lives of suffering surge through his body; constant grunts and screeches escaping from the angel’s mouth as these souls continue their spiritual assault. The very pain that these souls inflict upon him causes him to drop down to the floor of the entrance hall; hell’s own king hovering before him as he kneels down in pain.

“Must I remind you of where you are? No matter how strong or confident you may be, no matter what sort of power you may wield; you stand within the very dominion that is under my command. Every demon, every piece of brimstone, every glob of lava, and every single soul sent down here to be damned for eternity; all of which answer to my beck and call.” “Nnnhhh...Perhaps. But you yourself fail to account what sort of power I command. A very aspect of this reality of which makes up part of the universe; even when it is a part of your so called kingdom.” The tormenting agony of hell’s very souls fading away, Mall drags himself right off the entry hall’s dark red floor as a his entire begins to irradiate the very cosmo’s itself; declaring to the demonic king that: “Its time you discover why your ancestors had feared the Kybr; a fear that made them align with the very gods they despised!” Upon these very words does the an entire tidal wave of tormented souls burst out from the obsidian wall behind the hellish ruler; the King shouting how: “You shall not have even the chance!”

Right before this torrent of hellish spirits could inflict their tormented wrath upon the cosmic angel, a streak of pale white and indigo blue crashes straight through the entrance hall’s very roof and lands right in front of Mall; the galactic man opening his eyes to discover this figure to be none other than his very blue pupil. The cosmos reflecting along his body disappears as he watches his student take in the flood of tortured souls that was aimed at him; not one of these spirits phasing through his body as each and every one of them is drawn within his very being. The demonic king watches with utter astonishment as each and every soul he had summoned is effortlessly absorbed by the angel that he was a moment ago ready to finish; the spirits suffering screams silencing upon entering the boy’s body. Once the last of these lost souls goes straight into Tore’s body, the blue boy lets out a massive exhale before their fiery demon yelps out: “All those souls at once...Impossible!” “Phew, sure felt like it. I don’t know how Roy is used to doing this?”

Mall stands back up off the cracked crimson floor as his pupils turns back with a smile; that very grin deflating when seeing the irritation in his teachers eyes while growling: “What do you think you’re doing here? Need I remind you of the importance of fleeing with the nod?” “You really expect me to just leave ya down in the depths of the underworld itself? Hell no! I couldn’t live with myself if I did that.” “That’s exactly what you should’ve done! The welfare of our kin is far more important then this petty fight. As your teacher, you will flee with the nod!” “I said I ain’t gonna just callously leave you behind. I don’t care what you say, I’m stay weather you like it or not.” Upon facing his blue pupils utter stubbornness does the cosmic angel run his fingers down his own face while letting out a frustrated groan; questioning him: “Do you even understand the severity of this situation? We are teetering on the precipice of the Kybr’s very fate. They may never be released from their dimensional prison if both of us were to fall here. My life matters little with those stakes on the line.” “Well, it matters to me!” the blue boy barks back, his outburst quelling the spacial angel’s rage.

“...How could it possibly-” “I always felt like something was just missing from my life. Something I knew that was just gone since I was little. I don’t think I can really explain it, but since I’ve been taking this trip with you, Mall, that feeling was starting to fill back up. It was like something that just crumbled down over time was being put back together again. I don’t wanna lose somebody I can count on like that. Somebody I can look up to more then just a teacher...” Aiming his blue eyes to his mentor’s own, Tore reaches his hand out for the cosmic angel and begs: “Please, don’t take this burden alone. Let me fight by your side.” Mall is ultimately stunned by his blue pupils very words, a warm smile slowly cracking along his face while reaching to the indigo angel and grasping his palm; at last giving in and declaring that: “Very well. Let us finish this quest together.”

At last coming to terms with each other, the pair of angels then here clapping going off beside them; the two peeking back to their fiery foe to see him applauding with a calming stare. “A truly touching speech, young man. Your partner has found an incredible treasure to keep by his side, one that very few in this universe are truly able to appreciate.” “So does this little moment mean that your gonna let us go?” Tore asks the king. A sharp inhale is drawn within the devils lungs; a blazing flame bursting out behind his body as he harshly answers him with a fiery red stare: “No.” “Whelp, worth a try asking.” Putting his hand upon his indigo pupils shoulder, the cosmic angel insists to: “Fear not, my boy; we do not need our foe’s mercy. The two of us are more than capable of facing this hellish challenge together. We shall glide out from the depths of this fiery pit together, a fact of which I guarantee.” Seeing his cosmic mentor stand tall against the flaming threat blazing before them, Tore takes a stance alongside his teacher; both of them ready to face off against the king of hell himself.

Upon their newfound conviction, the very first move that their demonic adversary makes right out of the gate is to reach over to the obsidian barricade that surrounds them all; dozens upon dozens of flaming black arms protruding out from the walls and lunging their blazing grasp to the angels. Just when the numerous limbs were ready all choke and pull apart the pair of angels, Mall throws his own hands out to command the very space that surrounds him and his pupil; denying these arms an inch closer to them and creating an opening right towards their master. “Now Tore, move in!” On his mentors orders does the blue boy take off through the tunnel of warped obsidian arms and towards their fiery foe; balling his hand into a fist as he nears to slug the king straight into the face. Just as the indigo angel readies to strike, the demon king breaks his own arms away from his obsidian limbs and puts his palms forth; the royal demon catching the boy’s fist before it could even land on his cheeks. While holding the troublesome blue boy in place, his majesty slaps his free hand right upon the angel’s chest and lets a fiery explosion burst out from his palm; the violent combustion launching Tore straight over to the wall of flaming black.

Witnessing his blue pupil sent careening across the hall, Mall reaches his hand out to the very space he flies to and stops the boy from crashing straight into the obsidian barricade; the cosmic angel returning Tore right back on his own two feet. “Thanks for the save!” the indigo angel thanks his mentor, a glow of pale white shinning through his hand. From the palm of his hand does the blue boy fire out a ray of white light out towards their demonic foe, his demonic majesty swatting away the bright beam like last time. His students wave smacked aside, Mall intervenes and manipulates the very space it travels to bend it inward and send it right back on a course to the devils back; the pale wave exploding when hitting the kings backside. Recovering from the unexpected blast, the hellish demon’s very eyes start to glow out a fiery red as his body starts to radiate a powerful heat; directing his hands down to the very floor of the hall as molten magma begins to rise up from its cracks. Even when hovering right off the destroyed crimson tile, the angels see the lava underneath them continue to furiously bubble and rise; the blue boy warning his mentor: “Think all of its about to blow!” Just as the indigo angel predicts, the lava that boils beneath the three erupts out from the cracks of the entrance hall and swiftly floods the entire room in bubbling hot liquid; Tore blocking his face as the lava raises right up at him.

Once parting his arms away from his face, the blue boy discovers not a single drop of the fiery magma anywhere on him and melting his flesh; peeking down to where the lava rises to find it parting just beneath his feet. Mall...Glad to see ya being a team player. Thinking of his teachers actions, Tore soon sees the space before him carving a path straight through the erupting molten liquid; the blue angel rocketing right through this newfound way without an ounce of hesitation. Soon does he see this very path lead him straight towards the side of the demon who had conjured the rising magma; his majesties body as bright as the very molten liquid he commands. The approaching angel thrusts his leg right to the side of the demonic king and thrust his foot straight into the devils stomach; the very magma he conjured suddenly cooling down and hardening as the blow makes him cough up bits of boiling hot blood. All the lava that the demonic king had raised up from the cracks of the castle floor starts to drain back down the very moment that the devil had been hit; the king himself launched right towards his own blockade of flaming obsidian.

The king regains his senses as he careens out to the wall of blazing black and flips his feet out to his own barricade; landing right onto the surface of the obsidian to unleash and flurry of damned souls straight towards the spacial angel hovering at the wayside. Just when the spirits were ready to lunge straight through the angel, the blue boy throws himself right between his mentor and incoming wave of tormented souls; taking in the entire wave with but the palm of his hand hand and absorbing their very essence. Seeing his spiritual assault having been thwarted, the devil lets out a seething growl as he drives his fists straight into the very wall he stands upon; the blazing obsidian breaking apart into chunks of black. From his very maw does the demon spew out globs of his own lava straight to the floating pieces of blazing black and sticking them all together into fiery black boulders; then eagerly casting them all out to the pair of angels. Just before the barrage of obsidian could crash down upon them both, Tore witnesses the entire salvo of flaming black balls disappear before his very eyes; as if the very space before him had swallowed these rocks into their void.

From these very spacial anomaly do both Tore and the devilish king watch as the hall they hover within slowly fade out to project the very depths of the cosmos; the blue angel peeking back to his mentor taking a strange pose as he body glitters like stars. The royal demon sees the very stars of this fading in space shine brighter, soon realizing them to be the very balls of obsidian he had tossed streaking out to them all like a pack of meteors. “No!” his majesty exclaims as he rockets off towards the very angel manipulating the very space; his entire body coated in the very flames of hell itself. Right before the fiery demon could tackle the still angel in his hellish charge, his blue ward hovers against him and manages to hold the devils blazing rage back with but his bare hands; Tore’s arms beginning to burns up from the raging fires. The indigo angel struggles to hold the furious rage of the king back from his preparing teacher; both of them inching closer and closer to the cosmic angel, with Tore refusing to yield despite his arms beginning to darken and crisp. Just as the fiery king pushes the body just inches back to his still mentor, his hellish flames begin to be overridden by an intense, colorful glow; one of which floods right out from the boy holding him back. With but one push, Tore lets out a shockwave of colors that finally pushes his hellbound foe back from his master; though nowhere near enough to send the demon flying backwards. Even when having been shaken by the incredible wave of colors, this does little to deter the king of demon from continuing his flaming assault and simply dashes out to the two once more; Tore preparing to take in the devils fiery charge despite his arms having been burnt to a darkened crisp.

But at last do the cosmic angel’s meteors finally begin to descend down upon them and constantly rain down around the demonic ruler; the cluster of raining meteors far too dense to let him continue his charging assault. Tore simply watches as the demonic king attempts to dodge and destroy the comets that careen right after him; casting forth his fiery blasts out to the blazing obsidian to throw them off course. Alas does his majesty fail to evade the constant blazing black shower and succumbs to the cosmic onslaught, every single fiery meteor sent his way thoroughly beating every single inch of the king in their spacial downpour. After a straight minute of taking in the seemingly endless barrage of falling comets, the space that surrounds them finally starts to fade away; the last of the meteors finally cease descending when they all returns to the confines of the entry hall. The pair of angels flutter back down to the floor as their fiery foe crashes straight down.

Once landing back onto the cracked floor of the entry hall, they come to witness his highness slowly begin to pull himself back up; the flames that coat his body burning brighter than ever. “Jeez! Can’t believe this guy’s still standing after taking all that.” the blue boy complains. “Though he still readies to fight, I imagine that his body cannot take much more punishment.” “So all we gotta do is get a couple more good blows in and he’ll be down for the count?” “Indeed. And I know just how we shall finish this fight.” the spacial angel claims before leaning to his mentor’s ear.

An inhuman growl seeps out from the demon king’s teeth as he finally gets back up on his feet, his eyes glowing bright red as a furious bout of flames bellow out from his very maw and blazes out to the pair of angel’s standing before him. When the furious flames are but a few moments away from burning both the angels to a crisp, Mall thrusts his arms over to the sides and conjures a pair of wormholes for them to escape in; the two leaping right into the portals depths before the blazing fires could reach them. As his hellish majesty’s blazing red eyes glaze around the confines of his own keeps entrance hall, he shouts out: “I know you two cannot escape from me! Even if you leave the walls of my castle, I shall still find you no matter where you hide! Come out and accept the punishment for your sins.”

The very scorching air that wafts behind the demonic king grows weak and twisted, an opening breaching through the space itself and expelling the cosmic angel himself; tucking in his arm as he readies to slug his fiery foe. Just moments when Mall was ready to swing his fist into the back of the kings head, his flank is suddenly thwarted when the royal devil catches his fist right in the middle of the air; witnessing his hellish foe conjuring a plume of flames with his other hand. Right as the demon was ready to roast the galactic angel, another portal appears out from the side and ejects Mall’s own blue pupil straight towards the kingly devil; thrusting his own fist right into his majesty’s face. The unexpected blow causes the demon to lose his grip of the cosmic angel, their furious foe staggering aside as both Mall and Tore slipping back into the pockets of space. Before the demon king could even recover from the last blow, the indigo angel reappears out from the spacial distortion and drives his foot right into the devils stomach; Tore’s attempt to slip away stopped when the king grabs his leg, the demonic monarch gazing to the boy with hellfire in his eyes as prepares to counter. Right below where the demon stands however, the galactic Kybr ascends right out from a portal that opens on the floor and uppercuts the hellish ruler right in the jaw; sending him skyrocketing right in the air.

Just as the stunned monarch was about to drop back down towards the floor, Mall comes out from a pocket of space and strikes the dazed demon right in his backside; sending him careening out towards the side. Before the devil could crash right into the obsidian wall however, the blue boy himself pops out from the wall and delivers an intense elbow to the kings side; making the demon tumble back towards the opposite side of the entrance hall. The two angel’s continue to repeatedly vanish and reappear from the very pockets of space, popping out to take turns beating the devil back; the king himself able to do little as he’s smack back and forth like a horned shuttlecock.

Once finished beating the actual hell outta the devilish monarch, Mall reappears out from underneath the king and kicks him back upwards; shouting for his pupils to: “Finish it!” Upon his mentor’s request does the indigo angel warp back from the pockets of space and dive bomb down towards the rising devil with his clenched fist glowing a multitude of colors. Tore finally hammers his fist straight into the demon kings very stomach and continues plunging down towards the ground until crashing right down; the impact shaking the very castle and even the hellish rocky plains set beyond.

The crimson dust at last settles, Tore slowly arises from the floor to find their fiery foe left in a dazed stupor; moaning aloud as he lies underneath the blue angel. The blue boy eyes widen as the obsidian walls that once confined them all at last crumble to black dust; his spacial mentor reappearing out from a pocket of space as he starts to giddily cheer: “We did it! We actually beat the devil himself! Never in life did I think I could even do that!” “For a young Kybr of your age and experience, it is indeed a victory more than worth basking in.” “Couldn’t have done it without your help, Mall. Seriously thought I was nothing but fried chicken wings before you came in and save my buns.”

During their little celebration do both of them then feel the very keep itself start to tremble and quake; molten lava pouring out from every single orifice of the crimson brickwork; all of the molten liquid seeping straight into the demon kings very body and causing it to glow brighter. “I suggest we wait until we’ve escaped to bask in our triumph.” Mall suggests. Both angels then take off right through the busted open front doors as the king’s body starts to blaze out a fiery inferno; the pair of Kybr gliding out to the hellish fields of rock and fleshy formations as the castle they leave behinds explodes in a fiery blaze.

Flying far enough ahead away from the very capital of hell, Tore peeks back to discover an entire flock of winged demons all swarming towards them; the blue boy warning his spacial mentor: “We got a swarm on our tail.” From his blue pupils warning does the cosmic angel peek down to the very craggy plains they glide right over, finding a few crevices fractured along the brimstone; Mall turning over to his student and ordering him to: “Withdraw your wings and plummet down.” “What!?” “Trust me!” Like his cosmic teacher instructs him to do, Tore withdraws his bright pale wings right into his back and drops down towards the brimstone crags below; Mall descending down alongside him as both angel’s slip straight down into a sizable crack left along the rocky plains. The hellish swarm that had been pursuing them simply flies right over all the numerous crevices that litter the brimstone plains; all of them glancing down to see not a single sign of their angelic pursuits. From one of these numerous cracks, Mall peeks out from beyond the crevice shadows and watches the flock all fly away into the distance; the galactic angel claiming: “None of them have spotted us. I’d suggest we keep moving while it remains that way.”

Right before Mall could take flight, his pupils words stop him from taking off; requesting: “Hang on! Think while we have a minute, that I could get something off my chest?” “Oh, alright. What is it are you wanting to say?” “You uh...You remember what I was talking about, with my dad never really coming around anymore…?” “Yes.” “I-I just wanna say that...all this time you’ve been teaching me more about my powers and what I could really do. It’s really been th-the closest thing I could imagine having moments like that… You think after we finish this little quest and set the Kybr free that we can still do all that stuff; train, teach, fly, all that stuff...Maybe some other things too like...like a dad would do?”

Upon hearing all that the angel pleads out for him, not a single word is able to escape the cosmic angel lips; able to do little but gaze upon the indigo angel with nothing but shocked silence. “...Ya know what, I kinda figured that asking for that was pretty much a long shot. Le-let’s just drop it.” Tore frantically requests. “T-Tore, no. It’s alright.” his cosmic mentor rebuttals, kneeling down to the boy’s level. Clearing his throat, Mall gazes to the young Kybr and explains: “I must admit here that this whole entire journey that you had graciously taken alongside me has uprooted deep and buried feelings that I honestly thought for the rest of my existence I would never come to cherish again; something I had experienced when teaching my own daughter of her own potential. The fact that you look up to me in such a similar way that she did...it brought the life that I had thought once had faded long ago back into my very being. I may never understand what forces in this universe prevents you from spending time with your biological father; but nothing in this reality makes me happier knowing that you see me as one.” Taking in the galactic angel’s heartwarming words, tears begin to flow out from the blue boy’s very eyes; Tore suddenly rushing right out and holding his cosmic angel in a warming embrace. Even with his mentor staining his sparkling toga with drips of snot and tears, Mall returns the gesture and hugs the boy right back.

In the midst of their heartwarming embrace, Tore finally opens his crying eyes and peeks out above the very crack they hide in; the blue boy’s eyes widening as he grabs his attention with: “Uh, Mall. Think that swarm might have spotted us.” Breaking away from his blue pupil, Mall peers up above them to discover the very legions of hell all looming right over the both; their numerous glowing claws, talons, weapons, and teeth all reflecting the bright orange hellfire. “Well...Thought I would wish for a far more peaceful escape, this is nothing that the two of us cannot handle. So Tore, are you ready to join me in taking on whatever this universe has to throw at us?” he asks his pupil, staring back with a smirk. Tore wipes away the tears remaining on his face and looks to his mentor with a determined grin; claiming that: “You kidding? I’d more then happy to.” Upon these very words does the indigo angel let his bright white wings protrude out from his back, joining the cosmic angel as they both charge head first out to the demonic army set before them; both of the Kybr taking the whole horde on with a pair of confident smiles.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

The last step in the duo's journey to free the Kybr from their imprisonment. Will Tore's heartfelt efforts yield the companionship he seek, or does it still hold something in the shadows? Only two more chapters to go.

#lillaxtrigger #younghope

[prowlerwrites-blog]

The fifth Marauder

Summary: James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin oh and that guy Peter. Peter Pettigrew? He always followed them around right? Anyway, everyone at Hogwarts knew them. They were notorious for their pranks and from girls’ perspective, their looks as well (oh not all of them!). They were like a family, even after Hogwarts. And James’ and Lily’s death… their passing changed everything.

Yes everyone knew the four of them. Then why is it that no one remembered the fifth? That is, until now…

Notes: This is my first written fanfiction ever! Hopefully someone out there will enjoy it. I am not a native English speaker, so if you notice some mistakes: let me know! Me writing this is also to get more fluent in writing.

Last but not least: I don’t own the world of Harry Potter or any characters in it, this is all thanks to JK Rowling.

Pairing: My OC x Sirius Black, but not until later on in the story!

Warnings: Swearing

Chapter one

There it was shining red, bigger than I had imagined: the Hogwarts Express. I was surrounded by steam and sounds everywhere. The platform was buzzing with people: saying their goodbyes to loved ones, running after their pets and stressed about their luggage. It was exciting but also really overwhelming.

I had been acquainted with the magic community very early on. My dad was muggle born, but my mum was a proper witch. She had been a Ravenclaw, a very bright one. I didn’t know how my parents met, my father didn’t fancy talking about that subject. You see, when my baby brother died my mum had lost it. She blamed his death on magic, which I was told, was not at all the cause. It was a very unfortunate natural death. But my mum lost it. Lost it on me as well since I showed displays of magic very early on. It got worse.

Until she cursed me.

Eventually she ended up in St Mungos, never the same. My dad wasn’t exactly the same after that either, nor was I.

What my mum did scared me and turned me away from magic for a while. I thought magic was wrong and did harm, so I started to suppress it. My dad tried his best to comfort me, but he was a muggle. He didn´t understand how it felt to wield magic. He probably didn´t even fully understand that world I belonged to. So when I was six and started to get outbursts of uncontrolled magic, he desperately turned to a man that would have a lot of impact on my life: Albus Dumbledore.

When he visited us I was very much impressed. He conjured a rose for me out of thin air. It is still one of my priced belongings because it never withered. Albus took me for a walk, explained the beauty of magic. He told me about healing and creation. I was impressed and intrigued by all the options and beauty. If I came to Hogwarts, he told me, I could study and learn these kind of things myself. Later on I overheard Dumbledore speaking to my dad. He explained the dangers of what I was doing to myself and explained something about developing an obscurus and becoming an obscurial. He thought he had been able to give me some insights and that my dad would be able to keep me excited for magic.  My dad, dear old sweet dad, did everything in his power to make me accept magic. And luckily, he succeeded.

So there I was, five years later and eleven years old, overwhelmed by my surroundings while holding my dad’s arm tightly. New in my possession was my slightly springy flexibility pear wood 12 ½ inch dragon heartstring core wand, bought at Ollivander’s. The man had told me pear wands are among the most resilient and that there is no instance in which a pear wand had been discovered in the possession of a Dark witch of wizard. This knowledge had calmed me, as it did now. What also calmed me was that I could bring my best friend to Hogwarts. I heard a high mew coming from the carrier on my trolley. It was Thor, my European-short hair cat. Dad had given him to me as a birthday present, last year.  He took me to a litter and let me choose my companion. In truth I didn’t chose Thor, he chose me. Of all the kittens he was the only one walking towards me to be petted and I instantly fell in love with him. He had big feet and I expected him to grow big and strong, so I gave him a big and strong name. However, I should have named him Loki after the Norse god of mischief. He hadn’t grown that big to be fair, he was even slightly below average, but still with big paws and energy outbursts. He often ran through the house, his tail and back crooked while meowing as if he was possessed. And now he would come with me to Hogwarts.

My dad grabbed my hand on his arm and squeezed reassuringly.

‘Keira, you are going to be brilliant. Will you write me?’ He was well aware he would have to rely on owls for our correspondence.

‘Of course. I will really miss you dad.’

‘You will feel at home and have friends in no time, you will see.’ I knew he was going to miss me terribly as well. He would have to spend his days without his eleven year old bookworm and the mischievous kitten. ‘Now let’s find you a nice spot on the train.’ He pushed the trolley towards the train and looked for an empty compartment. We had to manoeuvre through witches and wizards of all ages in colorful robes, all busy getting on- or helping someone getting on the train. Owls screeched and cats meowed.

Dad helped me lifting my trunk into the train. I lingered and we looked at each other for a while.

‘Have fun Keira and blow everyone away! Not in the literal sense tough.’ He winked at me and I snickered.

‘Thanks dad. I love you.’

‘Love you too girl.’ He gave me a bear hug in which I lingered until the train driver signaled departure. My dad quickly left the train and I pushed myself against the window to wave until he was out of sight.

Only when he was out of sight it dawned on me: I was on my way to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…

But I didn’t get much time to ponder. A auburn haired girl and a black haired boy passed by me.

´Come on Sev, there must be another place to sit… one without pretentious gits.´ The girl seemed extremely irritated and the boy pretty worked up. I looked into the cart where they appeared to have come from. A group of rowdy boys were sitting there. One had had messy black hair and glasses. Opposite of him sat another black-haired boy with striking grey eyes. There also was a boy with light brown hair, some scars in his face and shabby clothes. The last boy has mousy brown hair, small watery eyes, a pointed nose and he was very small for his age. I opened the door to the compartment.

´Is that seat free?’ I asked.

‘Depends who is asking.’ Answered the spectacled boy.

‘So you are the pretentious gits.’ I smiled while I came in and closed the door behind me.

‘You met Snivellus as well!’ The boy grinned.

‘Snivellus?’

‘Or Serverus whatever his name is. The grouchy blacked haired boy? He wants to be Slytherin.’

‘Again,’ began the other black haired boy ‘my whole family have been in Slytherin.’

‘Rather brainy than brawny.’ Said the first boy with a sneering voice. All the boys burst out in laughter and I suspected it was because of some kind of imitation of Snivellus. I had installed myself in the compartment with Thor.

‘Are you first year too?’ Asked the light brown haired boy. I nodded.

‘I suppose we all are? I am James by the way. James Potter.’ Introduced the spectacled boy.

‘Sirius Black.’ Chimed the other black-haired boy in. He had nice features and demonstrated some natural elegance when he moved.

‘I am Remus Lupin, nice to meet you.’ The light brown haired boy made himself more comfortable next to James.

‘Peter Pettigrew.’ Squeaked the last boy next to the boy named Remus.

‘My name is Keira Cavanaugh and this is Thor.’ I introduced myself and my best friend. Peter eyed him suspiciously. ‘He is very friendly, unless you are a mouse.’ I smiled at him. The longer I looked at him, the more he reminded me of a rodent tough… He also didn’t seem very reassured by my words. ‘That reminds me: does anyone mind if I let him out?’ Peter didn’t seem too keen on this but didn’t speak up, the others assured me they didn’t mind. James started a vivid conversation about quidditch while I opened Thor’s basket. Peter immediately was drawn to James and clung to every word he uttered. James, Sirius and Peter were very engaged in the conversation. I wasn’t a shy person, but I liked listening more than talking, especially when meeting new people. Remus seemed to be the same kind of person, or maybe he didn’t care much for quidditch because he didn’t speak that much either.

‘Keira, do you have a favourite quidditch team?’ Peter kindly tried to engage me in the conversation.

‘Well I like the Holyhead Harpies, but I don’t exactly follow quidditch actively.’

‘Seems like we will if we stick around James.’ Sirius laughed. James tried to kick his leg. The two black-haired boys seemed to be very comfortable around each other, like they had known each other for a while. Their interaction was, because of that, very intriguing to me.

‘Does any of you have older relatives that already go to Hogwarts?’ Asked Remus eagerly to shift the conversation from quidditch to something else.

‘Not me.’ James said. ‘Only child.’ Remus looked around but none of us could answer his question positive.

‘I really can’t wait to arrive.’ He sighed.

‘Seems like we will have to pass some more time…’ I said while looking out of the window.

‘Fine, but please, no more quidditch!’ Remus begged which made us all laugh.

#harry potter #hp #prowlerwrites #marauders #sirius x reader #reader x sirius black #fanfic #young!sirius black #remus lupin #sirius x oc #original character #james potter #sirius black #peter pettigrew #lily evans #serverus snape #snivellus #hogwarts #harry potter fic #harry potter fanfiction #the fifth marauder #marauders era imagine #marauders era #young marauders #young sirius x reader #young james potter #young remus lupin #keira cavanaugh

[theroseonhelenascoffindoor]

15.02.18 | 4:44 AM | I, Too, Have an Old Typewriter

Why not is the only thought that seems to cross my mind these days. Why shouldn’t I get all I want? What am I afraid of? What’s holding me back? As I listen to a piano rendition of Begin Again by Taylor Swift (try and shame me if you want -she’s no longer my guilty but my proud pleasure), it all seems too easy in my mind: I’ll become a writer by the sole virtue of my own will and volition.

All my life -…I’ve been searching for something, something never comes, never leads to nothing…sorry. Back to the text- I’ve doubted and underestimated myself, but I’ve beaten all odds so far. I used to think I was an average person who the world would wash over, who’d never accomplish anything of value other than, maybe, raising a happy and healthy family of her own. I’ll still do that: I still hope to, someday, have children whom to encourage to become their best selves, but that dream will have to wait until this one is fulfilled. I don’t care if it happens when I’m fifty years old. I’ll no longer think I’m average and undeserving of anything special that this world -no, that I have to offer to myself. I have a great idea, a fertile imagination and a story that’s been years in the making. 

I write this declaration in bold, as is my conviction that someday I’ll see my writing on a page, I’ll see my book in some bookstore. It’s as simple as stating that the sun rises on the East or that dogs are the best thing to have ever happened to this planet, because I see now clearly how it’s going to happen, as if it was some sort of revelation, as if I could really see my future. I see the path ahead of me with each step I must take to get where I want to be -and sure enough, life never turns out to be what you expected and the path you thought you’d follow might get lost into the woods, but you can have a rough idea of what you want it to be like. Life is no careful step-by-step plan, nor a list of to-do things to tick off, but still, you’re the one who steers it where you want it to go, even when the road is winding. I’ll bring about my dream come true, because I know exactly how to achieve it: this hope is as tangible to me as the books that are piled up over my piano, over there.

I know some of you will call me a pretentious little twat. I know this must be laughable to someone out there who’s actually studied to become a writer; let me assure you I am fully aware of the fact that I must sound naïve and completely mad. Let me revel in my naivety, because, tonight, my foolish hopes are the driving force that compel me to keep working on that story I’ve been toying with for a while, and that delusion might just take me where I want to be. I wouldn’t be stating this with such confidence if I didn’t fully trust my talent -I’ve been writing since the days in which I’d make up stories about my innocent kindergarten crush and me- and my love for reading. Up until now I had only written my stories for my own pleasure and entertainment, but tonight I feel an urge to share them with the world. I want to share one, specifically, which I know is interesting and riveting and compelling enough to deserve to be read at least once by someone else. My story needn’t be the greatest next fantasy epic -and I don’t need to beat myself up if what I write isn’t perfect. I trust my capacity for improvement. This story just needs to bring me joy every time I sit in front of a keyboard to write it, like the glee I’d feel every time I came home after school and I published chapters of my dumb silly teen stories on fanfiction.net. It just needs to make me proud enough to want to send it out there, for the world to see; it just needs to be good enough to be worth being shared with anyone who might find my worlds and my characters interesting. Yes -I know I’m a lame romantic.

I also know I’ll probably never be on the best-seller lists -and I don’t aspire to be. I’d love to (who wouldn’t want to), but it’s not my sole goal. If everything works out for me in life, I won’t depend on writing to sustain myself: it’ll be the passion towards which I’ll dedicate all of my spare time, like I already do now in between exams and work. All I care about is sharing this world that I’ve dreamt of over and over again, in the hours-long back-and-forth journeys between my home and my university building as I look at the countryside landscape and think of the things that could happen in this place that I came up with in my head.

I trust my story because as I keep writing it, trying to sort out the obstacles, everything falls into place. Everything in it ties together so neatly and perfectly that it just has to be the result of some kind of magic. Because each day that passes me by as I daydream of these travellers, I get lost in this world I’ve thought of: I suddenly find myself wondering about the inner workings of its society and developing its background history. Every day I become more and more familiar with this world in my head, and every day it feels more and more real to me, so real that it’s begging to come bursting out of my head.

I know, somehow, that I’ll become a writer, because stories are what I love the most in this world. Whether I read them, or watch them, or make them up in my head as a way to entertain myself when I want to look away from my responsibilities and the toughness of the world in which I live in…I live for stories. I live for drawing inspiration from other stories in order to create my own, the way Diana Gabaldon became inspired by a Doctor Who episode and conceived the main idea behind Outlander (because, as you may very well know by this point, all good things start in Doctor Who); the way I became inspired by her work to write my own, the way I look to Mary Shelley and Charlotte Brontë for inspiration. I live for fiction.

This is another a declaration. Because, like J. K. Rowling, I, too, have an old typewriter and a big idea. (I’ll write it on my computer, though. You know, to save on paper.)

#writing #inspiration #Outlander #j. k. rowling #fiction #novel #fantasy #doctor who #mary shelley #charlotte bronte #night owl #fanfiction #fanfiction.net #diana gabaldon

[remysinnerchicken]

A New Chapter

College sounds fake. The stories are everywhere online, from nightmare roommates to party horror stories to the constant reassurance that it will be the best four years of your life. There are tricks and tips on how to make your dorm room cozy plastered all over Buzzfeed and supposedly life-saving hacks for when you have to finally brave those communal bathrooms. Naturally, for an anxiety-ridden incoming freshman, those articles are eaten up with unabashed ferver.

However, what those articles fail to mention is that, while there are similarities, art school in the big city is a whole separate genre of fake. Roommates are still game of Russian Roulette, and the meal plans are still too damn expensive to be necessary, but there was something different about a school made up entirely of artists. Which, for Charlie Vega, was both a blessing and curse the moment she stepped foot on campus.

"This is campus?" Mike spoke up as he eyed the two buildings kiddie-corner from each other.

"There are other buildings around, but yes," Charlie quietly defended, "It isn't exactly green rolling hills, is it?"

"Where do you go to ditch class?" He raised an eyebrow, plastering himself to the window to try and scope literally anything out.

She shrugged awkwardly, "Pike's Place, I guess?"

"She isn't going to be ditching class," Their mother spoke up with an eyeroll, still trying to maneuver her way into the alley for car unloading, "Not when we're paying 50 thousand dollars a year."

He shook his head with a laugh, "Jesus Christ, kid. That much for singing and dancing classes?"

"You went to trade school for music in L.A., I'm not sure you have much of a position to judge from," She argued.

"I'm not judging you," He waved his hand casually, "I'm judging your pretentious school." His eyes scanned the now bustling alleyway and smiled at a woman in a bright colored shirt who had two large rolling bins with her. They exchanged nods and he got out of the car, ushering his sister to do the same.

The two emptied the tiny car's contents into the bins, Mike making small talk with the upperclassman helping out. She lead the two into a parking garage where people in a shirt just like hers stood beside bins just like theirs with freshman that looked anxious just like Charlie. She pointed to a tall Hawaiin man in a purple bandana, telling them to go "stand with him, he'll get you up the elevator."

By the time they had gotten to the eighth floor, Charlie was nearly reeling. The doors dinged open and she was greeted by a loud, excited voice.

"Hi!" The woman nearly sang, "You must be Charlie! I have your card for your room and a few papers for you to look over and hand back to me later tonight." She shoved the contents into her dazed hands and beamed like a million suns all fused together, "Go check out your room!"

Charlie took a second, realizing for the first time in thirty minutes where she actually was. She took a step back, eyes sweeping the doors in the hall and finding the one that belonged to her, just the second door down. She read Charlie and internally cringed, having forgotten to mention that little name switch to her family before they came. She looked back to the excited woman, finding her just watching with anticipation. She smiled awkwardly and went to her door, pressing the keycard to the reader and falling against the door as it opened.

"I made it," She announced loudly as she entered. She looked up to find her roommate, having stopped dead in her tracks the moment the door opened, and her two moms.

"So, you're... Charlotte?" One of the mothers asked.

"Charlie," She corrected, ignoring the way her skin crawled as she was acutely aware of her brother behind her. She came fully into the room, emptying the bins with shaking hands so that Mike could bring them back out to the loud woman.

"I'm Riley," Her roommate finally spoke up once Mike had come back. She stepped to the middle of the room, holding out her hand to Charlie.

She watched her wearily before shaking her hand, "Good to put a face to the texts."

"Same," She smiled before going back to organizing her side of the room.

"Alright, Charmander, you want to make your bed and start setting up or do you want to wait for mom?" Mike asked, sitting in the desk chair provided.

"Let's just wait," She answered quietly.

For what felt like hours but could have only been twenty minutes at most, Mike and Charlie sat and watched as the Winters set up Riley's half of the room. Every so often, one of her moms would strike up conversation, which Charlie tried to continue but her smiles were tight and her looks were fleeting. Eventually, the two women recognized how uncomfortable the girl was and left her alone, holding nothing but empathy for the anxiety ridden artist.

Just around the time that Sofia came back from parking the family car, the Winters left to go shopping for the extra necessities they had left back home. Together, Sofia and Mike put the art on the walls and made the bed, allowing for Charlie to put her knick-knacks where she chose, her clothes in the order she needed, and her plant in just the right spot in the window. By the time the room was setup, Charlie was sat at her desk holding her Scrump doll tightly against her body.

Danny Boy (9:32am): Hey, are you all setup?

She read the text over and over as if she couldn't understand a word it said. She looked up at her family as they made plans before leaving, and then back to her phone.

Charmander (9:34am): Almost. Mom and Mike are gonna bounce soon, I guess, but they want to go shopping first so I have some kind of food.

Danny Boy (9:35am): They're leaving so soon? Like, not even lunch?

Charmander (9:35am): :^) I'm dying inside.

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat before they all headed out to a nearby grocery store, getting cheap and fast essentials that could last her until the next time her mom came into town. She had a meal plan afterall, but as far as they could tell, musical theatre majors were going to be driven into the ground so any kind of extra snacks would be appreciated. Of course, it wasn't the most fun shopping experience she had ever had, as she really just roamed the aisles without an appetite for ten minutes before her family started grabbing things they knew she liked.

Arriving back at the dorms, Charlie and Mike took the stairs with the groceries, making for an earlier goodbye with Sofia on the first floor before she went to fetch the car. Riley was still gone and, after a choked up hug between the two siblings, Charlie was alone in her room for the first time.

Charmander (10:32am): Is your roommate there

Danny Boy (10:34am): No. Is yours? Do you need a friend?

Charmander (10:34am): mike just left

Danny Boy (10:36am): :( Come up to my room. The doors open.

That was the first place she differed from all the generic articles online. She had a friend from high school that was also attending her school of choice. She wouldn't say they were best friends, no, but they had certainly seen some things together. From homecoming disasters, to first heartbreaks, to gender revelations, to say they had history was a bit of an understatement.

Which is how Charlie found herself sitting in Daniel Knowles' room, streaming with tears as he hummed while putting away Poptarts. She wasn't offended, in fact she kind of preferred that he ignored her. It was sort of just a moment for herself.

Until he decided to actually talk to her about it.

"What is it that's freaking you out so much, if you don't mind me asking?" He inquired, not even looking in her direction.

She looked up, eyebrows drawn together and shoulders rigid, "Well... I mean... I've never done anything like this. I mean," She sniffed and swiped at her nose, "I lived with Mike for that one year. But it was different, I was still home with everyone. I was in a small town. I had somewhere to be. I had Mike."

"Well, you have me," He shrugged.

"Why am I the only one who's not excited?" She suddenly asked.

He paused then finally leaned against the counter, looking at her. "I don't think you are," He finally said, "I think everyone just says that they're excited so they can cover up how dreadfully anxious they are. But you don't tend to do that. You... Well, Charlie, you wear your heart on your sleeve and, ya'know, that's not a bad thing."

"I didn't use to do that," She mumbled to herself.

"No, you didn't," He agreed, "But then some larger than average poop broke your heart, you got sad, and now everyone knows you feel approximately all of the time because you just stopped hiding it. Which is a good thing if you ask me. You're here to study acting."

"So, I should be able to act like I'm not a horrible mess," She defended.

"Nah, I think it just makes you more genuine," He smiled, "You're very in touch with your mess."

She scoffed and rolled her eyes, wiping underneath them to try and remove any evidence of her sobfest. A quick look through her camera on Snapchat and she could see that somehow her Wal-Mart brand makeup stood the emotional test and was looking just fine. With that in mind, she turned so that Danny was in the background of the photo and snapped a selfie. She posted it to her story with fake enthusiasm, mostly putting on a show for their friends back home, before setting her phone down and curling up in the chair she was sat in. For the next hour or so, she watched as Danny, soon to be joined by his roommate, set up their room. Or at least tried to.

She eventually spoke up, seeing how uncomfortable he already was with his roommate, "Can we stop by my room? See if Riley's back and grab my computer?"

"Sure," He answered quickly, dropping what he was doing and grabbing his keycard. "I'll be back, Nate." He didn't wait for an answer before he left the room, Charlie at his heels.

It was only when they reached Charlie's room only a floor down that either of them said anything. She bit back a cheeky smile as she unlocked her door, "He's... certainly a character."

"I don't trust him," Danny deadpanned, "I, can already tell that I'm going to hate him."

With no sign of her roommate, Charlie let out a sigh, "I think I'm going to like my roommate. I don't know. I don't know if she's going to like me."

"You'll be fine," He drawled.

For the next several hours Charlie and Danny bounced from one floor to the next, answering calls from friends back home, sorting out their rooms, and trying to have any kind of communication with their respective roommates. Eventually they ended up on the floor of Charlie's room for a good forty minutes just talking to Riley before she left again to go to a family dinner.

Alone in the room, Charlie rubbed the back of her neck, "So, like... My family's gone... I don't have dinner plans."

Danny looked up from where he lay on the floor, "Oh, I'm sure my family can bring you out."

"I hate your mom," She scrunched up her face at the thought.

"So do I," He shrugged, "But it's food."

After a moment, she nodded in agreement. They called Danny's mom and sorted out dinner plans, and soon enough they were headed out, pressing the elevator button and waiting.

A tall person with incredibly light blonde hair rounded the corner and, seeing that the button was already pressed, stood back with their hands in their pockets, staring at the door. They sort of kicked at the ground a little impatiently, never quite standing still. They had a softness about their face despite having a completely blank expression.

Charlie took a minute to just stare at their shirt, silently admiring the design and briefly wondering if it was a reference to anything. Then, having realized they were staring at this stranger's chest for an indeterminate amount of time, she looked at their face. "Hey," She said, gaining their attention, "Uh, I realize now that it looks like I was just staring at your chest and I look weird. I was checking out your shirt."

They blinked then smiled, "Oh." They looked at their shirt, almost as though they forgot what it was, "Yeah, thanks! I like it." They looked back at Charlie, scuffing their shoe again, "I like your outfit."

"Thanks," She smiled, rocking back on her heels and tapping her toes together, looking down at her shoes shyly.

The elevator dinged open and all three of them got in, riding it down before branching off to their respective destinations.

Unfortunately what followed suit was one of the, if not the most awkward dining experience Charlie had ever had with Danny's family, which was really saying a lot considering the four or five years they had known each other. After a fight that had been sparked from absolutely nothing, Danny's mother refused to join them at the table, and it was just the two of them and his sister eating. With some awkward small talk here and there, Charlie managed to be the Switzerland of the family war, and got back to the dorm with enough time to spare before her floor meeting.

A couple minutes early, she and Riley crept out of their room and peered into the lounge, finding half the floor sitting in various places around the room. The two of them exchanged looks before choosing to sit against the wall on the floor next to one another. Riley focused her attention on her phone, while Charlie scoured the room with her eyes, noticing as each new person slowly filtered into the lounge.

What came by next was a bit of a blur, mostly a ton of information from their very loud and excited RA. Somewhere along the line Charlie made a remark under her breath, which the RA laughed brightly at, calling attention to Charlie by name. She ducked her head awkwardly, smiling a bit and noticing the way Riley chuckled in response.

Finally, as if the universe knew how to mess with her, they were instructed to find someone in the lounge to speak to. The catch being that it couldn't be your roommate. Charlie didn't miss the way Riley seemed to physically brace herself for the following conversation. It got worse when they found out they had to do it twice.

After a conversation with an upperclassmen that she absolutely forgot the name of despite hearing it multiple times within the past twenty minutes, she had to find another stranger to communicate with. She glanced around, recognizing the person from the elevator, but they had already found a partner to speak to. She rubbed at her arm uncomfortably before her eyes landed on what she had deduced to be the elevator stranger's roommate, due to earlier comments made in the meeting.

Perfect.

She sat next to him, startling him, and just let the words roll out of her mouth, "Hi, I'm Charlie, you look uncomfortable and I'm incredibly uncomfortable, so we're going to talk."

He stared at her like a deer in headlights before cracking a smile, "Yeah, sure, that works for me. Uh, Scott. Matthews. Acting major."

"Musical theatre," She nodded, recalling him saying that earlier in the meeting, "So, we'll have a bit of a similar experience."

He pursed his lips, tilting his head, "Well."

"It can't be that different right off the bat," She furrowed her brow, "We do the same thing, I just sing and dance more than you do."

"Still pretty different," He adjusted his seating position just barely, pushing back his hair, "But ya'know, it's. It's whatever."

"Jesus, okay," She huffed to herself, "Uh, interesting fact? I wrote a book once."

"Wow," He looked mildly impressed before shrugging, "I don't know, uh, I went to Catholic school."

She blinked, "You... Really?"

He smiled- no, he smirked. It was definitely a smirk. "Yeah. It's just as terrible as it sounds."

"Yikes, dude," The more she thought about it the more she hated it. She had her own experience with having a wildly religious dad, so to imagine growing up and going through the Catholic school education system was just horrendous.

"I mean, it's fine," He cracked his knuckles absentmindedly, "It's just, ya'know, the surefire way to make sure your kids are never Catholic. That was a fun conversation."

"Yeah, I... I get that. With my dad," She looked down at her hands then, fidgeting with her sleeves.

Their RA called for their attention shortly after, and she could feel an awkward wall go up between her and Scott once they were no longer engaged in conversation. She didn't think anything of it, nothing more than a failed attempt at making a friend anyway.

"Alright, and one last thing before we head out," Their RA finally said, "I need to show you guys the trash room!" Somehow she managed to make even that sound exciting. She stood, startling Charlie when she was only around 5'1", and headed down the hall with the elevators. Everyone followed after her and the moment they walked in, there was a murmur.

"Wow, look, it's my home," Charlie said to herself.

Scott's roommate, Grace as Charlie learned, gasped and turned to her. Excitedly they whispered, "That's what I said!"

Charlie looked at them and grinned, "Oh my God."

When their fun adventure to the trash room was over, they were dismissed from the meeting and Charlie and Riley immediately took to hiding in their room.

"So, there's that weird... mixer, party thing on floor twenty," Charlie mentioned, checking herself in the mirror.

"I don't think I'm going," Riley said.

"Yeah?" She looked at her.

"Like, maybe for a little bit because I hear food's involved. But I'm not, ya'know, a people person," She shrugged.

"I get that," She smiled a little, "I'm mostly just going because Danny wants to. I probably won't stay long. It's been... a day."

And so they went, Riley bailing out after a few minutes. Charlie sat with Danny and a few friends she had met during an Accepted Students Day in June, but mostly she was aching to leave. After some dancing and a weird conversation with a boy from her floor she couldn't remember the name of, she retreated to her room, finding Riley already in bed.

After a tentative shower, Charlie crawled into bed for the first night at college. She didn't know how long she stayed awake, staring at her string lights with something heavy weighing on her heart, but eventually she was able to sleep with Scrump in her arms.

#Verse: Misfit Tools #Remy writes #this is also lowkey remy journals #but its fine