#anxious mustached villager

[kozachenko]

Finished reading Forbidden Scrollery! As I mentioned in my little post about it before, I would make a full review on it once I finished it, so here we are now!

(Also, sorry I haven't been posting as much art recently, life's gotten busy for me and I haven't really had the time to work on anything big, but I hope to get back into drawing soon)

And honestly? Best Touhou manga I have read so far. Full review under the keep reading tag. Also, spoilers if you want to read it.

The writing first of all, was really good, the pacing is perfect (only helped by the actual paneling and layouts being top notch), the character writing was my favourite part of the manga, and the actual story was actually pretty smart.

So, something I love about this manga is that it all revolves around a core idea, that being, the relationship between Humans and Youkai. While each chapter is episodic in nature, it still feels like those little episodes actually have a purpose, it isn't just filler. There's not one major problem they have to resolve like in CDS, but at the same time the events aren't disjointed from one another like in Lotus Eaters. The way that we see Kosuzu slowly get more and more involved with the Youkai of the human village. I also really like how we learn more about the human village and how it operates, as well as learning more about how the Youkai play a part in it. In each chapter we see a different way that this core theme is expressed, like in chapters 20 and 21 where we see how outsiders like the residents of Eientei contribute to the human village, and in chapters 30 and 31 where we see how humans help Youkai out via their fear of the unknown. And of course, you have the infamous chapter 25, where the most memorable moment from there also happens to be the most flanderized (I'll get to that in my paragraph about Reimu, because her character writing in this manga is the best that I've seen in the Touhou mangas so far). The best chapters that demonstrate this theme are probably all in volumes 6 and 7, where things start to get more intense.

Now onto the writing, and boy while this may be whiplash from reading CDS, the writing in this manga was amazing. Each character has their own unique voice, which ends up making the events in chapter 38 even funnier. Since Mamizou has a very distinct way of speaking, it makes it even funnier watching her be disguised as Reimu and accidentally slipping into her own way of talking.

Of course, this scene is visually aided by Moe Harukawa giving "Reimu" the little cat mouth she gives Mamizou, and also the very obvious signifier of the leaf, but establishing Mamizou's way of speaking early on in the manga helps emphasize the comedy of this scene (that being, a sassy old woman trying to impersonate someone in their early 20s with a very different personality to them).

What's even funnier about this scene is that as soon as Mamizou gets what she wants, she just gives up on trying to speak like Reimu and dips (which is the punchline to the setup of Mamizou almost calling Kosuszu "Little Missy" and then correcting herself)

Also, credit to the English translators for finding words and phrases like, "The real Mccoy" and "Reckon," with how different the Japanese and English languages are (and how tricky it can be to translate between the two) they ended up hitting the nail on the head with the localization and translation.

The actual narrative itself is really well paced, with all the events actually feeling like they happen consecutively to one another, only helped by the little bits in the dialogue where the characters mention previous events in the story. For a manga in a series where upholding status quo is the norm, a lot of changes happen in this manga, like Akyuu starting to write novels under a penname, Kosuzu starting to attract the attention of more and more important people in Gensokyo, and Kosuzu eventually being added into Reimu's friend group. The manga also does an excellent job of tying the events of the games at the time into the story, like we're seeing the behind the scenes or aftermath of a particular incident, especially so with the Urban Legend Incident, where we see Reimu and Marisa get more and more concerned about rumors like "The Story of the Bull Head" and the end of the world speading too far before they can do actual damage. I also like the tone that this manga has, it's inviting at first with how cute and lighthearted it is, but it slowly gets more and more serious we begin to see the truth of the human village, and by proxy, Gensokyo as a whole. Also, the set up and payoff with the parade scroll was really well excecuted, with it acting as like a ticking time bomb in the background as the series goes on. I also really like how each chapter feels different from each other in terms of plot beats, it's not really formulaic like Lotus Eaters was, which helps make the manga a lot more exciting to read, despite it not having a grandiose overarching plot.

Now onto the character writing. As you can probably see, I am turning into a bit of a Mamizou fan. She's one of the most well written characters in the manga and perfectly strikes the balance of being hilarious, yet intimidating at the same time. She's a pretty smart character despite her goofiness, and she's always such a joy to watch (or.. well... read, but that doesn't roll off the tongue as nicely (well actually fingers since I'm typing this, but again, doesn't roll off the fingers as nicely (yipeeee I used a phrase correctly). Also, I really like seeing her relationship with Nue as that of a grandma and her grandaughter who's a chaotic scene kid, but despite these differences they get along perfectly. Aya is also one of my favourite characters to read about in the manga, and I was so excited to see her again. She's always such a delight to see, and also captures that sense of goofiness + coolness. In a way, it's kinda the embodiment of Youkai in Touhou itself. Fun and charming yet supernatural and menacing at the same time. In your usual manga/anime series, it's more likely that characters will lean one way or the other (and anytime they step out of their ascribed personality, it's for a gag and is considered an oddity, wheras with Touhou it's commonplace), so it's a really unique writing thing in Touhou that I don't really see other things, which is really cool. Marisa is also written really well in this, she's really funny and plays off of Reimu really well. Kosuzu herself is also fun to read about, as her childlike view of Gensokyo slowly begins to crack as more and more influential youkai begin to interact with her. I also like how the manga doesn't tell you in the beginning that she's a young, naive kid, instead, it shows you little details like her having a curfew, her parents calling her for dinner, her general outlook on life in general. All of that is contrasted with Akyuu, who, while bit pretentious, was also very fun to read. She plays off of Akyuu's naivete well with her wisdom from her past lives and her knowledge on Gensokyo. She acts like how you would expect a teenager with memories of their past lives to act, with maybe a slight dash of maturity in there.

And now for Reimu, who I think is at her best in this manga. There were times when I legit went, "HOLY SHIT REIMU'S SO FUCKING COOL OH MY GOD-" instead of just going, "Ha ha, Reimu's such a dork." Like, she actually knows her shit in this manga, and it explores the "shrine maiden" side of her character in far more detail than we have ever really seen it before (except in arguably Silent Sinner in Blue, which I still need to re-read, yes I will also be making a full review for that as well once I do get around to it). I use this panel from chapter 27 as my example because she genuinely looks so cool here.

Reimu very frequently uses her skills as a shrine maiden to get to find the answers she needs, and she's not afraid to get her job done. As seen in the now iconic panel of Chapter 25...

This is probably what the manga is most well known for, and when I mentioned how this moment is flanderized, I'm more so talking about how people tend to look at this moment in isolation, and to be honest, Reimu isn't helping herself by saying this a moment before she does this guy in.

Which is then sort of contradicted when Reimu says this after she does the guy in.

So if she has a legit reason for why she did this, why the heck did she call it needless then? I feel like the best way of answering this would be that yes, she didn't need to do it, but from her perspective she had to. It's her job to do so, as she says so herself. Another thing to mention that contradicts the initial reading of that earlier line is just how seriously she takes this whole ordeal. During the pages leading up to this moment, we see Reimu as being uncharacteristically serious about this,

And when she finally arrives at Suzunaan, we get this really good reaction shot of her eyes, and it really says a lot about her mental state at the moment,

and she also gets very serious during her initial confrontation with this fortune teller guy.

Another thing that contradicts the "needless killing" part is how she handeled that one rich guy becoming a Youkai in chapter 37

Reimu is just ruthless when she needs to get her job done in general. Sure, she didn't need to kill the rich guy, she could have just let him go and not do anything about it, but she it's not about what she needs, it's what Gensokyo needs.

In the same chapter where she kills the fortune teller, we get this bit of narration.

Honestly, I feel like this is a kind of "Reimu knows more about Gensokyo than she lets on" kind of situation, because we never really learn exactly how having a human become a Youkai would screw up Gensokyo, but I have heard theories where if a human-who-became-a-youkai were to still try to be human, then it would be cause for concern because then it's like putting a radioactive rock in the middle of a small elevator with a lot of people (ok I know that doesn't make any sense whatsoever but I can't think of another way to put it). .

Putting that can of worms aside, I really like this manga's version of Reimu. Sure she has her dorky moments, but that's not the entirety of who she is, and I really like that. I really like it when characters have vastly contradicting sides to their personality, it makes them more interesting and also more fun to think about. There is so much more that I can say about Reimu in this manga, but I'll just end off this segment by saying that Reimu is now one of my favourite Touhou characters now and she is in my top 5 list of favourite Touhou characters.

Ok now it's time to finally talk about the artstyle and OH MY GOD THE ART FOR THIS MANGA IS GORGEOUS I WANNA EAT IT SHKGAGSLHSKGSAKJDGHKSLDJGHLAHDGLJH;SLGHKDJAH;GKGHDJK;HFGKADHG;J-

Seriously though, I really want to do a style study for this manga because I love it so much. It's expressive, the cross-hatching gives it this really nice and tactile feeling, and the designs the artist came up with for each character are really good. My only critique would be to maybe give Mamizou more wrinkles, or something more to communicate her age, (and I still like the way Mamizou is drawn in this manga). In my previous post on FS I brought up how good the layouts are, and that still holds up to when I finished this manga. Good manga paneling takes advantage of the fact that it's a manga, and uses that medium to it's fullest. I won't go into any more detail here as I have already talked about how good it's paneling is in a previous post, so go read that if you're interested. I feel like we all know what makes Moe Harukawa's art so good, so I'll just leave this segment at that.

Now, I would normally end this segment here, but really, there's one surprise I haven't talked about

One character who steals the show in this manga

A character so good, I had to write an entirely new segment on him

That's right, it's a dude, and it isn't Rinnosuke.

I'M TALKING ABOUT THE MAN,

THE MYTH,

AND MOST OF ALL, THE LEGEND.

ANXIOUS

MUSTACHED

VILLAGER!

THIS MAN, RIGHT HERE, THE GOAT OF ALL MANGA AND ANIME! BEST CHARACTER IN ALL OF EXISTENCE! ABSOLUTELY INSPIRING STORY THAT DROVE ME TO TEARS! BEST CHARACTER ARC IN THE ENTIRE MANGA! GET THIS MAN TO NUMBER ONE IN THE 2024 TOUHOU POPULARITY POLL LIKE HE DESERVES!

Ok in all seriousness, this manga is amazing, (I mean, it has anxious mustached villager in it) I see why people regard it so highly in relation to the other Touhou mangas. It was a blast to read, and it's my favourite Touhou manga now, and is also one of my new favourite mangas in general.

Ok I'm gonna end the post here now, bye byeeeeeee.

#touhou project #anxious mustached villager #reimu hakurei #I tag her mainly because I talk about her so much in this review #forbidden scrollery #forbidden scrollery spoilers #touhou spoilers

[ctitan98official]

simp4thena : So I was wondering what would Alcina do if she found out that Y/n cracked someone’s skull open with a rusty pipe because said person was flirting with Alcina while she and y/n were in the village with the girls running small errands?

Omg yes! Let’s get into it!

Alcina Y/N and the Dimi sisters: *Running errands in the village*

Alcina: *Looking at a list of things she needs* Okay, I need to run over to Duke’s to get something.

Alcina: *Whispers to Bela* It’s a present for Y/N’s birthday. Will you watch them? *Hands her the kiddie leash Y/N is currently tugging against like a wild animal*

Bela: *Internally groans, puts on a fake smile to please Alcina* Of course, Mother!

Alcina: Thank you, dear. *Pats her head* Alright, everyone. Bela is in charge. I want you to listen to her, understand?

Y/N Dani and Cass: *Varying degrees of indifference, nod their heads*

Alcina: Good! I’ll be back soon, my loves! *Leaves*

Bela: First order of business! Cass, you hold Y/N’s leash. I don’t want to and you’re stronger. *Shoves the leash into Cass’s hand*

Y/N: *Darting at everything that interests them like a lizard or a bird*

Cass: *Rolls her eyes, yanking Y/N along as they start walking* I want a coffee or something. I had a long night of torturing maidens.

A/N: Imagine if they had a Starbucks in this shitty village XD

Dani: Ooh! I want a cake pop! Bela, Y/N? Do you want something?

Y/N: *Turns around, very excited, hopping up and down* COFFEE!

The Dimi sisters: NO!

Bela: You’re hyped up enough as is. Maybe we’ll get you a puppaccino or something.

Y/N: *Grumbles, lies flat on the ground and pouts*

Cass: *Continues to pull Y/N along, dragging them on their back*

A few minutes later

The Dimi sisters: *Sitting on a bench and having coffee and pastries*

Y/N: *Lying at their feet like a dog, happily enjoying their puppaccino*

Alcina: *Comes up, clearly annoyed about something* I hate every single manthing in existence.

Dani: *Takes a big slurp of her latte, has a foam mustache* What happened, Mother?

Alcina: *Takes a handkerchief and wipes Dani’s face* Nothing major, darling. Some idiot kept trying to flirt with me. I flashed my claws and he got the message, though.

Y/N: *Pissed, bolts off running, snaps the kiddie leash*

Villagers: *Panicking and fleeing as Y/N runs around on all fours like a dog and fucking barks at people*

Cass: … Dammit! I knew I should’ve brought Y/N’s muzzle! I hope they don’t bite anybody… *Thinking* But it would be pretty funny.

Alcina: *Stares off in the direction Y/N went, throws up her hands* Well, we tried. It’s their problem now. Come along, girls. *Ushers the Dimi sisters home*

A few hours later

Y/N: *Comes back to the castle, anxious, trying to act like nothing bad happened* Babe! I’m home!

Alcina: *Comes in* Draga! Where have you been?!

Y/N: *Chuckles nervously* Oh, you know. Just… Hanging out… Nothing to worry about!

Alcina: *Knows Y/N’s hiding something* Draga. What did you do?

Y/N: *Sweating* What?! I didn’t do anything! And, even if I did, which is completely ridiculous by the way, it wouldn’t even be that bad!

Miranda: *Knocks at the door, shouts out* Alcina! I need to have a word with you!

Y/N: *Squeaks and runs away*

Alcina: *Rolls her eyes, answers the door* Hello, Mother Miranda. What seems to be the trouble?

Miranda: Your stupid spouse just cracked a man’s head open with a rusty pipe! He’ll be okay, thank goodness, but I told you to keep Y/N on a leash. They’re a menace to society! *Shows Alcina a picture of the man’s injuries*

Alcina: *Recognizes the man in the photo as the one who flirted with her, chokes back a laugh*

Miranda: What?! You think this is funny?!

Alcina: *Clears her throat* Of course not, Mother Miranda. I’ll give Y/N a stern lecture. Thank you for notifying me of this.

Miranda: That’s better. Thank you! *Leaves*

Alcina: *Calls Y/N in* Draga! Come here!

Y/N: *Walks in guiltily* I’m sorry, Alci! He just pissed me off and I-

Alcina: *Kisses them on the lips* My hero. *Pinches their cheek*

Y/N: *Completely confused* Wow! If this is my reward for committing a crime, I should do it more often!

Dani: *Walks by just then* I mean, you should do it for the feeling of childlike joy that fills your heart, but I see what you’re saying.

Masterlist

#alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #re8 #re8 village #re8 lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitriscu x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #y/n is stupid #re8 shitpost #re8 incorrect quotes #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #mother miranda

[itspurvis]

It is Touhou Popularity Poll season! And I have a humble request.

We have 7 votes to use. And I would like to ask everyone to use their 7th vote to try and rescue a character stuck amidst the sea of PC98s and nameless manga characters. There's too many good characters stuck down there there who deserve better than that. And there's something -Are you looking for a cute, innocent kind of character? Eika's stuck at 134. (She was my number 7 vote last year, that li'l jellyfish makes me happy) -Want to rescue an underappreciated milf? Urumi's at 140. -Want to help out a scrunkly lady? Nemuno is at an all time low of 142. (May fall under milf, too.) -Do you want a morally questionable, questionably lewd sort? Sannyo is the lowest ranked Windows character at 143. -Want to rescue a little shit? My girl Kisume (always my #1 vote because someone has to love her) is at 131.

-Wanna be a contrarian? Love a big pink fist fighter? Unzan's at 146, the lowest rated windows character technically! Everyone here except Kisume is rated under Anxious Mustached Villager, and I think we can agree that's not ideal. And because they are all so low in the rankings, just a couple of votes can make a pretty hefty difference! If none of these appeal, spend your 7th vote on the PC-98 character of your choice! I personally recommend Kotohime, but I love that little canon problem. Really, I just want to see people use their last vote on someone who may not be their most favorite, but just to bring up a long shot who deserves better than they got. If you aren't sure who your seventh should be, consider those at the bottom! They need love too. Also here's a link to the poll: https://toho-vote.info/

#touhou #touhou popularity poll

[ashenmind]

Since I’m moving to a new, sleeker algorithm, it is very tempting to just throw the whole kitchen sink of cast into the pear ranker.

One one hand, some of these characters just don’t have enough of an existence to form meaningful opinions about,

On the other hand, making someone choose between “anxious mustached village” and an arm is just way too much fun.

Worst case, there’s always a “i don’t know who the hell these people are” button.

#pearrank #me posts

[babylon-crashing]

for another day full of poetry/ i’ll suggest

may the tide

that is entering even now

the lip of our understanding

carry you out

beyond the face of fear

may you kiss

the wind then turn from it

certain that it will

love your back may you

open your eyes to water

water waving forever

and may you in your innocence

sail through this to that

~ lucillie clifton, “blessing of the boats”

“If you can't be free, be a mystery.” ~ Rita Dove.

“I am not free while any woman is unfree, even when her shackles are very different from my own.” ~ Audre Lorde.

“Sister! your foot's smaller / but it's still on my neck.” ~ Pat Parker.

“Justice don't mean nothin' to a/ hateful heart!” ~ June Jordan.

“B.D. women, sure you can't understand/ But they got a head like a sweet angel/ And they walk just like a natural man.” ~ Lucille Bogan

“We/ Jazz June/ We/ die soon.” ~ Gwendolyn Brooks.

“I will say:/ Most men are afraid of me, you know?/ Or, I will say:/ In my culture we do not take our men's names as our own/ You have nothing for me/ I have my own name/ I know/ now how this body works/ How it will never let a name go until it has taken it into the mouth and fed it to the breath/ I still know by heart." ~ Safia Elhillo.

“We're flawless, ladies. Tell 'em/ say, ‘I look so good tonight’/ God damn, God damn, God damn.” ~ Beyonce.

“Sappho was a right-on woman.” ~ bumper sticker.

“The woman who takes a woman lover lives dangerously in patriarchy.” ~ Cheryl Clarke.

“The pastor makes twenty-four/ references to hell / in the sermon at church and forgets/ to talk / about love." ~ Yrsa Daley-Ward.

“How to dance in blood and remain sane?” ~ Sonia Sanchez.

"you can't make homes out of human beings/ someone should have already told you that / and if he wants to leave/ then let him leave / you are terrifying/ and strange and beautiful/ something not everyone knows how to love." ~ Warsan Shire.

“Thick thighs save lives.” ~ Lizzo.

“Mandy Lee Jones does her vampin’ at night,/ And she never gets home till it's comin' daylight./ Old Uncle Bill came 'bout half-past ten,/ Put the key in the hole, but he couldn't get in.” ~ Clara Smith.

“You judge a woman/ by what she can do for you alone/ but there’s no need/ for slaves to have slaves.” ~ Essex Hemphill.

"I want to say 'Be!' to her but am an ordinary soul./ I watch for the fold under her eye to twitch. / I have many dreams, I say to her./ In my dreams I am better than myself." ~ Ladan Osman.

SIBLINGS Hurricanes, 2005

Arlene learned to dance backwards in heels that were too high. Bret prayed for a shaggy mustache made of mud and hair. Cindy just couldn't keep her windy legs together. Dennis never learned to swim. Emily whispered her gusts into a thousand skins. Franklin, farsighted and anxious, bumbled villages. Gert spat her matronly name against a city's flat face. Harvey hurled a wailing child high. Irene, the baby girl, threw pounding tantrums. José liked the whip sound of slapping. Lee just craved the whip. Maria's thunder skirts flew high when she danced. Nate was mannered and practical. He stormed precisely. Ophelia nibbled weirdly on the tips of depressions. Philippe slept too late, flailing on a wronged ocean. Rita was a vicious flirt. She woke Philippe with rumors. Stan was born business, a gobbler of steel. Tammy crooned country, getting the words all wrong. Vince died before anyone could remember his name. Wilma opened her maw wide, flashing rot.

None of them talked about Katrina. She was their odd sister, the blood dazzler.

~ Patricia Smith

#favorite poets #suggestions #poem #poetry #teachers #mystics #friends

[leggomylino]

Sunrise | Hwang Hyunjin

 .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。 .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Genre: Angst, Romance, Drama, Comedy

AU: Beauty and the Beast au

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x fem!reader

Word Count: ~26k

Warning(s): Minorly dark themes, vague mentions of suicide, sparse censored language

A/N: It’s finally done! <3 | For Kumi, my dear friend. <3

Playlist:

Lighthouse → Hope

forever rain → RM

Tag List: @hanniiesuckle17​ @distrikt9​ @hanstagrams​ @hyunsunq​ @smolboiseavey​ (let me know if you want to be added!)

ღ Stray Kids M.List | M.List ღ 

  .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。 .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

| Zero ❧

It was no lie that Hwang Hyunjin was what he was. A monster. A crook. A fiend. 

But had that been his fault? No. Had it been his intention to piss off the old hag who showed up at his doorstep looking for shelter, who also happened to be a witch?

...Well, yes, technically. But in his defense, he hadn’t known she’d been a witch. He just assumed she was another ex-royal his father’s company had put out of business, bankrupt and seeking reconciliation. Another pawn knocked off the chess board. 

So then was any of this really his fault? 

Not in the slightest.

Late November was when colorful bouts of leaves piled in the corners and around the front doors of Everain Palace, when icy winds took hold from north arctic fronts and chilled all those who inhabited it to the bone, or at least, those unfortunate enough to end up imprisoned in the steely corridors below. Dank, gray shadows fell over the surrounding dark atmosphere of the cold stone walls, seeping in elongated coverage that fell over the once festering city of New Amber, now reduced to nothing but a sickly small town until the return of the harvest season. If anyone even bothered coming back.

It was no secret why no one ever wanted to come back. Everyone knew about the curse. Rumors spread fast, and as the head of his father’s company Hyunjin couldn’t hide his scarred face forever. Afraid of becoming infected, afraid it would spread, half of the town vanished within the first few days. Another half of what was left disappeared over the course of the following two weeks, and the number of residents continued to dwindle even after that, until Hyunjin couldn’t even tell you how many remained as of today, six years later. Ten, maybe twelve royals, some small groups of peasants temporarily settling in until they too were told about the curse, and the dark secrets of the young man who lived beyond its walls.

He was once beautiful until he ticked off the wrong old lady. Now he lives out his days staring at a reflection of who he once was.

The part he hated the most was that he couldn’t deny it was the truth.

“Mirror!” he called, clapping his hands once, twice, three times. “Where is my mirror?! Where the hell did you put it this time?!?”

Begrudgingly with a sigh a shadow cascaded down along the stone wall, manifesting into something three-dimensional only a moment later. Blue hair fluttered softly around smooth, rounded features, a lone earring sparkling faintly in the pale moonlight, accentuating ripped jeans and the confines of a pitch-black hoodie. 

The whole ensemble was tacky and incredibly outdated. “Here…” His shadow said, holding out the small ornate mirror. His contractor grabbed it with anxious greedy hands, claws already beginning to form far too early thanks to the autumn equinox.

He paced away eagerly, collapsing to his corner of comforting feather downs and soft silk sheets, as he stared at a reflection of who he once was, who he used to be. How he would look today had he just pretended not to be home that ill-fated night.

“Jisung!” He barked, glaring angrily over his shoulder. “Come here.”

The boy-shadow sighed once more, nodding slowly as he had no right to refuse the man who had complete control over him. So he slowly sulked over toward the bed, shimmering at the seams as he passed through the inanimate threshold like a waking dream. Carefully his edges began to dissolve, bit by bit, until nothing but a faint air of smoke remained, settling dispersedly around the dim-lit bedroom.

Hyunjin never took his eyes off his past-in-the-present self, who only stared back at him with vacant, mournful eyes. “Show her to me.” he demanded, gently leaning a few inches forward. “Where is she?”

With careful swirls like a rippling tide the mirror faltered, spiraling and transforming the glass picture until the prince’s face was gone, the image of a girl taking his place.

Then another one. Then another one…

The mirror suddenly cracked. His hands tightened around the steel handle, a low growl resonating from behind parted lips curled up in a snarl.

“I’m sorry…” the mirror muttered, Jisung suddenly appearing out of the cracks to stand before him. “She’s still not here. I don’t know what you want me to do abo--”

“I don’t want you to do anything!” Hyunjin snapped, throwing down the mirror and shattering it into a million more pieces. “I just want her here! What’s taking her so long? Where is she?!”

“I--” Jisung winced as a few stray shards transpired through him, the feeling still foreign even after all these years and past mirrors similarly broken. “...I think these things just take time--”

“Time?! TIME?!?” Hyunjin was beyond livid. The moment he stood his servant shrunk back, nearly folding himself into the safe confinements of the old chiseled walls. “Time is something I don’t have. You know this, Jisung. If this goes on any longer I’ll…” His voice trailed off and he gulped, snatching a fistful of hair in his sharp dark claws. “...Why isn’t she here yet? What are you not telling me?”

“Telling you? Wha--”

“Shut up and answer me!” He demanded, slamming the boy against the wall. The poor guy would have sunken through had he, again, not been under such a binding spell. Instead the only thing he could do was resentfully comply, doing all he could to spitefully avoid eye contact. 

“I’m sorry, Hyunjin. I don’t know--”

“You’re working with her, aren’t you?” Hyunjin continued with narrowed eyes. He began to shake him, tightening his chokehold around the boy’s throat. 

Jisung gasped a bit, nails gritting against the echoing stone walls. “I-I really don’...” He tried to choke out. “...I really don’t know. I swear. Honest.”

“Lies.”

The tightening intensified. Jisung felt like he was nearly going to burst.

That’s when he’d gotten the idea.

“Y-You’re right! I lied! I know where she is!”

The moment he was let go Jisung gasped for breath, grateful as the heavy sinking feeling of doom left his vacant bones. Hyunjin blinked once, twice before narrowing his eyes again, taking a careful step back. 

“...I knew you were lying to me. Where is she?”

After holding up his hand for breath, his shadow slowly looked up from his knees, straightening and readjusting his strange, stretchy cufflinks of the hooded cloak he wore. “She’s lying dormant somewhere. I can get her for you.”

“Where?”

“Under...erm,” He awkwardly coughed. “...O-Over that way...out yonder.” 

Hyunjin didn’t seem very keen on the way his servant waved his hand dismissively in the random direction of “out yonder”; but it was a risk he was willing to take. He was desperate. Three more days and...and…

“Fine,” he answered at last, lavishly turning his cape away from him to pace towards the half-opened window. “You have until sunrise to bring her to me. I won’t wait a moment longer.”

“Wha?! But she--”

“Fine! Twenty-four hours. And you better return with the right one, or else.”

He gave a precise gaze over the slender curve of his princely shoulders, and that was all it took for his shadow to sink out of sight into the folds of stone-pressed cement below, the clouds blotting out the last rays of moonlight around them.

| One ❧

“Y/n~ Y/n, hurry up!! C’mon, we’re gonna be late!!”

“Yes, yes, I’m coming…”

Your friend Rei ran another ten yards ahead, impatiently stopping for the umpteenth time for your slow-leisurely pace to match up. “Uuuugh, c’mon already!”

“I said I’m coming…!”

...Sheesh. 

Autumn season. It was the time when the leaves changed their colors, one final requiem of individuality before fluttering away in the cool breeze, carried off somewhere to decompose and fall victim to the circle of life. It was also the time you and your friend Reiya, who you casually referred to as just Rei, spent all hours of the short-lived days travelling from village to town, in order to sell the wares of your fathers’ goods. They were both merchants, you see; it’s how the two of you had met, many years ago. But they were old now, the circle of life creeping up on them as well, and since all the men in your town were either taken or losers not worth your time, each of you vowed to take over the family business, carrying it wherever the wind decided.

...And anyway, neither of you were interested in the prospects of marriage; being tied down? And taking orders from some mustached buffoon? ...No thanks. It’s not that you hated the idea of settling down, just...not in your town. Not at your age. Not yet.

This way, things worked out well-- you and Rei got to travel the continent, avoiding arranged marriage and spending time in each other’s company selling your fathers’ wares and in turn, helping them out. They were free to enjoy a peaceful retirement while you added memories of wondrous places and escaped the evil clutches of a life tied down to a broomstick and a kitchen stove. It was perfect.

...Except for days like now, when you’d both woken up late and were at risk of losing a good place to set up shop. Your bad this time.

“Hurry up!!” Rei whined, doing her famous one-tap-two-step-hurry-up dance. The balls of her slippered feet hardly touched the stone pavement of the path leading to the city, her arms flapping like a chicken as she readjusted the triple-stacked backpack of goods from falling off her bony shoulders. “Let’s go let’s go let’s go!!”

“I told you, I’m coming!” You groaned, having been stuck with cart duty. It may have been nearly empty, but it sure didn’t feel like it. Normally it took two people to steer, in addition to horsepower by your trusted steed, Carrots, but unfortunately…

Carrots had too many carrots last night. And she wasn’t doing so well. 

It wasn’t serious, but it would be at least another few hours before she got it out of her system, so this blissfully unfortunate morning it was you and Rei having to wing it...with you having pulled the short end of the stick.

“Nnnneiiigh,” Carrots groaned from behind you. You gave her a gentle pat while trying your best to nudge the cart over the last hill. 

“It’s alright, girl. We’re almost there. Just a little farther.”

She let out a whine, almost seeming to nod in understanding.

“Ahh, hurry!” Rei called again, making haste for the city gate’s checkpoint line. All merchants and traveling businessmen (or women) were required to have their items evaluated and checked by city officials before being licensed a temporary warrant to sell.

When you made it to the top of the hill, already out of breath, you deflated-- then just about fell over when you saw how long the line was.

Oh man. This is all my fault. We shouldn’t have stayed up so late…

“You look like you could use a hand.”

You turned around to find a tall...ish, slender boy, with hair the color of chocolate and big, round eyes to match. A single silver earring hung from his right ear. “Oh, uh, that’s okay…”

“...Han,” he clarified, gripping one side of the cart. “Han Jisung. Just let me handle this. You should probably go help your friend; she looks like she’s about to fall over.”

You peered around the other side of the small wagon to see that, indeed, Rei was playing a game of balance, swaying a bit too far this way and that as she wobbled on flat calloused feet toward the back of the long line. But you? Leaving your father’s shop in a stranger’s hands? Even if it was in a populated area, and he did seem genuine…

“That’s okay.” You told him, grabbing tighter onto your side. “I can take it myself, I’m used to it. Thank you for the offer, though.”

“...” He blinked at you a moment, doing nothing at all but staring. Just when you were considering calling for Rei to come back, though, he laid off, tossing smooth hands in the air before shoving them in the front pocket of the strange cloak he wore. “Alright, alright. Didn’t mean to scare you or anything. If you insist, I’ll be on my way.”

He let go, and you felt the full weight of the cart pull your body downward, gravity affecting you in the worst way. ...Maybe…

“Um, hold on!” You shouted, and he stopped a quarter of the way down the hill, glancing up at you expectantly from over his left shoulder. Curse him. “Yeah?”

“...” You set your pride and suspicions aside. “...It would actually...well, I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to help. Just to the base of the hill.”

His eyes did the smiling for him, and was back at your side in seconds, taking the right flank while you managed Carrots and the left.

“Mind if I ask you something?” He pipped just steps later, eyes peering at you from over the cart as he jumped like a small puppy trying to see over a counter space. You groaned.

“I suppose I have no choice, so, sure. What is it?”

“Well…” He was beginning to mumble. “I know this may seem kind of sudden but, I have this...friend…”

“No.”

“Huh?”

The cart stopped rolling, delaying your schedule that much farther. “If this is headed where I think it is, I’m sorry but, I’m not interested. I’m very busy and I don’t have time for...love. Or a relationship. Other than the one I share with my customers.”

“Oh! No, no! Hahah…” Han had let go of the cart as well, scratching his cheek. “I-It’s not that! Nothing like that...I…”

His explanation was cut off by your sudden gasp, lunging forward to grab the cart as it started to descend down the steep slope. But it was too late; it slipped out of your grip like butter in a frying pan. “Oh no!”

The cart raced down the hill, gaining momentum and speed the farther it went. Crowds of people gasped as well, jumping and throwing themselves out of the speeding wagon’s path, until…

It reached the bottom, but it kept going. And it was headed right for Rei. 

Horror-stricken, you jolted, racing down whilst cupping your lips to scream out a warning call. “Rei! Look out!!”

Rei turned around. Her eyes widened.

But she remained unscathed. In the blink of an eye something dark and ink-like had raced over the pavement and grass fields; it manifested beneath the wheels, and the cart just...stopped.

“Rei!!” You cried, letting go of Carrots to plunder to her side. She’d fainted, but Han was there to catch her.

Han…

You stared him down nervously from the other side. “...How did you get here so fast?”

He carried your friend to the shade of the forest surrounding the city walls, others whispering and already beginning to spread gossip. You tried to block it out and ignore the intense stares and glaring from eighty-or-so business-competitors, following Rei’s limp body and coming to rest beside it, pulling her head into your lap. 

Though you were out of earshot, the whispering and curious eyes still followed you; so not good for business.

“Hey. I asked you something,” you said again, making sure to keep one eye on him, and one on the cart. “How did you get down there before I did? I didn’t even see you move.”

The strange boy didn’t say anything, save for laughing a bit. He then proceeded to ask you the oddest thing: “A man, or a beast...do you think we have a choice? On what we want to be?”

“What?” Your brow furrowed to form one solid unibrow. “Don’t ignore me. I asked you first. How did you get down there so quickly?”

Still, he refused to answer. “Technically, I asked you first. So you have to answer me.”

“I don’t have to do anything,” you replied, “but I will call for help if you don’t answer me right now.”

Seeing the anger on your face, the boy calling himself Han looked out into the near-distance, at the line steadily encouching forward and now forming a beeline around your abandoned shop. “Well, given that we are out of earshot...it’s not much of a threat, but...still,” he shrugged, almost to himself. “I suppose we wouldn’t want that.”

He set himself down criss cross applesauce, next to Rei’s spaghetti legs. You huffed, attempting to protectively heave her a smidge closer to you. “Alright, well, go on.”

He gave you the goofiest grin. “Well, it’s quite simple, really! I just swooped under the wagon, and jimmied the breaks! Worked like a charm!”

You frowned, not at all appeased with that answer. “You...jimmied the brakes?”

“Yep!”

“And it just...stopped.”

“That’s right.”

“...You dove beneath a speeding wagon and managed to attach yourself underneath?”

“That’s what it sounds like~”

“That’s what it sounds like?!”

“Look, we can point fingers all day at who-did-what, but if you don’t hurry and get back in line, you’re not gonna have any place at all to set up your little shop of knick knacks or...whatever it is that you sell. Is that a snow globe?” He asked, reaching for Rei’s bag. You swatted his hand away.

“...Fine, whatever. Thanks for saving her, I guess…”

“And?”

You pressed a kerchief from your pocket to Rei’s forehead, smoothing ebony locks from her face. “And?”

Han smiled. Again. “You gotta pay me back somehow, right?”

“For doing a good deed? Do I?” You scoffed. “And here I thought you were doing it just to be kind…”

“Well now you know~ ...I mean—“ He swallowed at the glare you gave him. “...What I mean is, I did do it. To be kind. But I’d love if it you could still pay me back by coming with me to—“

“I’m not going anywhere with you or your dumb friend, if that’s what you’re asking. Just save it for the birds.”

Rei was starting to stir, twitching slightly, her eyes squinting in and out of consciousness. You began patting her cheeks and calling her name, but unfortunately, she still wasn’t fully there yet. That, and the annoying man at the other side of her wasn’t finished. “I have a proposal for you,” he stated.

“A proposal?” You didn’t like the sound of that. “...I’m not interested. Look, I’ll just, give you something from my shop, and you can be on your merry way, okay? Here, what about that snow globe you were eyeing before?” You reached over Rei’s body, fishing it out and handing him the novelty. “Take it. It’s yours.”

The glass globe held the contents of a small gray castle, surrounded in a sea of red roses. Han took the globe from your hand, examining the structure and looking almost nostalgically somber as he watched the fake snow fall. “...Thank you, but it’s not what I want.”

“Then what do you want?” You groaned. “Look, just take whatever. I don’t care, it doesn’t matter. I have more important things to worry about right now.”

“...What I want,” Han said, ignoring that last part of your statement, “is for you to answer my question.”

“What? What quest— aah, I told you already, I’m not—!”

“A man, or a beast? As individuals, do we have a choice?”

The way he’d cut you off and stated his query so seriously made your head spin; it certainly caught you off guard, that was for sure. “...I’m sorry...I don’t understand the question.”

“Hmm…” Han thought. “...Imagine you were put under a...spell. A spell that turned you into a hideous monster, with fangs and claws and fur in places you’d never imagined...but it comes and goes, this curse of yours.” He tilted his head. “Are you still human? Or are you now a beast?”

Thoughts slowly circled your mind, not knowing what to think. You had no idea where any of this had come from, the only responses coming to mind countering questions: who is Han, what is he up to, why did he want to know what you thought of such a peculiar idea…

“Well?” He egged, leaning backwards.

“...I...I don’t know,” you confessed, listing your gaze aside. “I really have no idea where you got such a crazy idea from.”

“Okay...then let me ask you this. I’ll help you out.”

What? Help you out?

He leaned forward this time. “Do you think we have a choice? Is it possible to define ourselves as one or the other?”

“Well...yes, I would think so.” Your eyes met his, hoping that if you gave him an honest answer, perhaps he would leave. “We all have a choice— to be monsters, or men. It is not a matter of blood, or a spell, but a condition of the heart.”

You didn’t know it, as you’d turned away; but the moment those words left your parted lips, his eyes shone with the hope of a thousand suns, dawning the horizon after the longest winter storm. 

You’d turned away to shuffle for a bucket and some more handkerchiefs in Rei’s Bag of Wonders, holding out the bucket without turning your eyes away. “I changed my mind. Make yourself useful and get me some water from the nearby stream, or in town, whatever. Just—“

But when you cast your eyes back to where Han was sitting, he was gone.

| Two ❧

“You must have been having one hell of a dream to stay passed out for so long.”

“Ahaha…” Rei buried her fingers in her hair, entangling them in the sea of ebony that flowed behind her and came to a steady delta tied near the ends. “Sorry about that. It was like I wanted to wake up, but I just couldn’t. Like something...some kind of invisible wall was preventing me from doing so.”

“Hmm…”

The two of you had made it into town safely, with little trouble other than what you’d previously gone through with that strange boy, Han. After getting checked in and circling the shopping district three times, your luck finally began turning around when one of the vendors apparently felt ill and decided to turn in early; bad for him, but great for the two of you. The spot couldn’t have been more perfect, either: positioned right in the center of all the hustle and bustle, it attracted plenty of attention, and the moment you set up shop, customers came lining up at the window.

The two of you worked for hours to make up lost time, grinding your fingers to the bone, shuffling around each other to count coins, search for wares, and sign receipts of official purchase. By the time the lunch bell rang, you and Rei were about ready to fall over.

“I’m tired,” Rei moaned, collapsing to her knees and digging under the counter for your grocery supply. Woefully, her hand came back...empty. “Ah, we’re all out of bread! And apples…”

“What about that bag of trail mix you bought two days ago?” You asked while organizing receipts. Someone had to do it, and you knew Rei sure as heck wasn’t going to.

She sighed, shaking her head. “Carrots and I polished it off yesterday. ...Oh, carrots.” Her stomach growled right on cue, a forlorn sigh escaping dry lips. “...I’m so hungry...”

Something about that previous statement made you pause, inclining your head to the right in thought. …Carrots…Carrots…?

...Oh no. Oh hell’s bells, you’d completely forgotten about Carrots!

Without a moment to lose you dropped the stack of receipts you’d been tidying up onto the counter, hopping out of the wagon and running as fast as your boot-clad feet could take you. Your knees were still stiff and exhaustion weighed you down, but you couldn’t allow that to stop you. Not when that poor (dumb) horse was wandering and hopefully still waiting for you.

“Hey!” Rei yelled, her head leaning out the window. “Where are you going?! You forgot your coin purse!” She waved said object in the air, as if asking for a thief to come and swipe it. “I want lemons and some gum drops! I saw a candy shop about a block down!!”

“You can’t have candy for lunch!” You hollered back. “And I can’t right now, you’ll have to get lunch yourself today. There’s something I forgot.”

Her confused expression said everything else for her, but you didn’t have time to chat about lunch plans. You had to get that horse.

You ran with all your might (what little you had left) out of the shopping district, down three blocks, and past the city gate...that is, until a guard stopped you.

“Woooah there, little miss.” The man grabbed your arm, effectively pulling you backward; and he had quite the grip to boot. “I’m afraid you can’t just go hauling eighty out here like that. I’ll need to see some I.D.”

You cast anxiety-riddled eyes to the man, making sure each gesture showcased your anger. “What? To leave the city? ...But I’m leaving, not entering!” Your anxious gaze sought out into the trees, the pastures of bitter decay and spooky autumn silence where Carrots was last seen. “Please, I need to get out there. My horse is missing, I’m afraid I forgot about her after a...mishap...and ended up abandoning her. She’s sick, so I don’t have time to play games!”

“That’s all fine and dandy, ma’am, but rules are rules. Show me your I.D., please.”

“I…! …”

Reluctantly, you yanked your arm away, digging for…

...Nothing, because you’d forgotten your coin purse. The image of Rei waving it with pride and worry left a bitter taste in your mouth. And your vendor verification permit was left in the shop, as well. “...I don’t have any. My permit is with my co-partner, back in the shopping district.”

“Hm. Well, you’ll just have to go back and get it, then.”

“What?! I don’t have time for that!” You turned pleading eyes to the officer, prayerfully searching for understanding alongside a missing horse. “Please sir, she couldn’t have wandered very far. I’ll be right back! I’m only going--”

He shook his head. “Sorry miss, like I said, rules are rules. Because of the recent string of kidnappings, all residents and visitors alike are required to provide valid identification before coming in or leaving city walls. Mayor’s orders.”

You’d been thinking about making a run for it or finding another guard to reason with until the word kidnappings made its way into the conversation. Normally you would have been curious and not too concerned...however… 

...That’s considering you heard it from a local paper floating in the breeze, or along the gossiping grapevine from one vendor to another, one chatty socialite to the next whispering to each other among the lively bustle of city life. Why were you just now hearing about it here? From an officer? How long had this been going on?

In all the questioning silence, you basically forgot about...what was it you were looking for again? “Um, forgive me for prying, but...kidnappings?”

“...E-Er...that’s...” The officer flinched, taking a half step back. “...Um...well...dammit all…” He removed his thick uniform hat, scratching his head a moment before readjusting it to fit tall and proud. He cleared his throat. “...Please forget I said anything. If you wish to leave the city, I’ll need to see some valid I.D.”

“......”

He simply stood there, pretending as if nothing had happened. The only proof you had was the sweat swimming along his forehead, but surely he’d blame that on the nonexistent autumn heat and the fullness of his uniform.

You had no choice but to reenter the masses.

- ❧ -

When you return to the gates, the same officer approved of your vending license (still sweating from that “autumn heat,”) signalling for the men in the tower to let you through. It was late afternoon now, the skyline growing dangerously close to dusk; when you’d returned to shop a while earlier, you couldn’t admit to Rei that you’d lost her best friend next to you (though some friend she was having no idea about the whole thing...), so you were left with little choice but to play along and have lunch until it was time to work again. The late-day crowds were always far less stressful than morning shifts, so confident she would be fine on her own you took back off for the South entrance the moment the work bell rang.

“Carrots...Carrots...looking for a food-poisoned horse…”

Sigh. The words were a groan from your lips as you trudged about a floor of dead leaves and twisted bare tree branches. The skyline was starting to wear thin, every step you took noisy and either resulting in startling a field mouse or alerting a wandering bear out of hibernation of your whereabouts. Not an ideal situation to be in.

I’ve been wandering these woods for three hours now. Dang it, where is she?! ...Normally, Carrots was a good horse; she followed you around, did as told, and when you did lose her (...as this wasn’t the first time…) she stayed put and waited for you to return; like that time in Cresentmoon Harbor (for it was literally shaped like a crescent), when you and Rei had been so distracted by some dashingly handsome fisherman named Minhee and wanted to hear his tales of the rough blue sea that you’d, yes, left your horse astray, where a group of thugs almost snatched her. 

That had actually been a fun day, watching Rei throw apples and trinkets and club the ringleader with his own beatstick. This time, however, you’d known exactly where you left her. You were sure there were no gangs or thugs near a place like this; not a clean-cut, safeguarded place like Westwind...any yet, Carrots hadn’t been there. Not at the top of the hill where you left her, or beneath it, beside it, or anywhere nearby.

...Although...didn’t that cityguard mention something about kidnappings?!

That stupid horse. I knew I should have overruled Rei and named her Dumdum. She went and got herself kidnapped! URGH, I had to go pulling the short end of the stick today--

A sharp wind blew by without warning, causing you to shiver. Mournfully, you wondered if maybe you should turn back and enlist Rei’s help after all...have her summon back that courageous, beatstick-smacking frenzy… 

Oh, but how heartbroken she’d be to hear of Carrot's disappearance! ...It was all for naught, though... 

Carefully, you turned around and began walking the way you came, one step, then two...then stopped. Looking out into the moors, the forest beyond, the stretch of trees and forest decay that went on for miles and miles seemed...different, somehow. It went on for miles and miles and...miles and miles and miles. It didn’t seem to have an end.

I know I didn’t walk that far… Now now, Y/n. Can’t see the forest for the trees, hm? It’s no big deal, I just wandered a bit farther than I thought. I’ll start heading back now.

Because Rei was the fun-loving, clueless bubbly-type, you had to be the strong one (not including Wild, Pissed-Off Rei). You were the confident, analytical, and ambitious of the two. You prefered logic and data, and relied almost whole-heartedly on common sense, with few exceptions. And as any rational person of your nature would, you’d made sure to mark the entire way you’d come; so it was no big deal, wandering out a bit farther than you had intended. 

...Except...

...The first marker never came. Not after five minutes, not after ten. You walked in the opposite direction for precisely 1,000 steps and counting, and all that greeted you were the same exact scene of bare trees and dead leaves. In the same order. In the same tones and volumes and shapes.

It was going to start getting dark in the next two hours. You stopped, thinking. Running numbers. Fishing for data…...fishing…...fish…...Minhee...heheh…

No, no! Staying on track was crucial at a time like this…! 

But you ended up standing there, for another ten, twenty minutes maybe, not sure what to do. There was a strange vibe in the air, you could feel it. The way it wafted through the air and settled on your skin. Rattling your bones. It almost felt like it was bribing you in another direction. 

So you did an illogical thing unlike your nature: you kept walking straight ahead, ignoring it for as long as you could. But dammit, the scenery never changed! Not after an hour, not after two… 

You were tired at this point, collapsing hopelessly by the same tree you passed a hundred times...and then you got an idea, like a fog lifting from your brain (Why hadn’t you thought of this sooner?!). Grabbing a twig, you made a small notch in the tree. Then you took off running, jogging at a brisk pace. Never making a single right or left turn, not even in the slightest. Headed only one direction, following alongside the setting sun.

That same notch bid you a pleasant hello eight and a half minutes later. To make sure it wasn’t just a coincidence, you walked another eight and a half minutes; same notch, same place, same twig resting lifelessly to the right. Same tree.

It was getting dark now. Soon the sun would be completely gone over the horizon, tucked away for twelve hours of sleep before returning to shine light on a new day. And you had no horse to show for it; more importantly, you were lost. Trapped in some kind of...weird bermuda triangle of decaying forest with no sign of life anywhere. 

Great, just great. I hate my luck… wait… 

...Ah, yes. Conveniently, just when you’d thought to possibly scream out your frustrations into your work apron, rattling on about how much luck despises you, and how you despise her back, maybe shed a few tears since no one was around, a tower of billowing smoke caught your attention, a sign of life that hadn’t been there before. 

. . . 

You should have been more cautious. Normally, you would have been. But given recent events…

“Hello…?” You called softly, pushing the door open; though, let’s be honest, the door really seemed to just...open itself. “Is anybody here?”

The house was old and worn. A small cottage just big enough for one, it must have been at some point; now, it was practically all but decayed along with the surrounding forest. Another heap of dead wood and rotted roots among many. A faintly ripe and sickeningly sweet scent wafted about the torn chamber, wrapping around sagging furniture, torn drapes, and a half-caved roof that gave clear sight to the full moon, bulging and cackling in a clouded manner.

It was a stark contrast to the decrepit old woman beckoning you from within. 

“Yes, yes… Come in, my child.”

| Three ❧

A few hours earlier, Han Jisung had just been minding his own business, a faceless shadow of a dark hood browsing Westwind goods, humming a fiery tune, all while coming up with a plan for smuggling an innocent human girl into the cursed city of New Amber. He was pleasantly aware of the time; he had exactly ten hours left before he was due back at the palace, girl in tow, in order to keep his handsome blue-haired head and devilishly charming eyes.

He had time. The two cities may have been four hours apart on horseback, a diagonal stretch of twisted forest and steep valleys between them, but being a shadow he could just-- ...zip...and zig...and...zag...right beneath the… … … 

...He wouldn’t be returning alone. He was transporting a human girl. That had no magical curse or powers to speak. The only way to return was the old-fashioned way...which meant…

He only had half the time he thought he did. Balls.

Making his way through the afternoon crowds, he followed three winding back alleyways before making sure the coast was clear of wandering eyes, seeping into the broken cobblestone and dashing through history below, long forgotten structures and fossils of stories past: a mineshaft, a tavern sign, a snuffed-out bonfire. At just a block away he set out a brisk pace for where he last placed a tracking mark upon the one known as Rei.

It had been a simple plan; since Y/n was impossible to get near, he merely embedded a small tadpole of his shadowy spirit into the other. Since they traveled together, where one was found, the other wouldn’t be far behind. Find Rei, find Y/n.

But beside that fact, it was starting to itch; being without a part of him for too long caused an empty, nagging feeling to rise and fall through his bones like a waxing, waning tide, going back and forth, back and forth. It got downright maddening after a while, almost like an addiction, to the point where eventually, he couldn’t stand to be without himself any longer. If he wasn’t whole, what was he?

...For a shadow...being whole meant everything.

“I see you’re feeling better,” he greeted her, the girl whose life he very well saved. Rei turned around from her stockpile of cash, where she placed many bags of coins in the Candy For Me! ♫ pile and few in the Dumb Taxes :( pile.

“Oh, hey, I know you!” Her face lit up tenfold; an oddity given the fact she should have been unconscious for ninety-percent of their previous encounter... “You’re the guy that saved me before! I thought you looked familiar!”

She threw a tarp over the stacks of cash she’d been organizing before, as if that was going to...protect it, or something. She rested her chin in palm, elbows propped upon the counter space. Smiled.

“So what brings you by? What can I help you with? Oh,” she smirked, wagging a single brow. “Could I interest you in this love potion?” 

A bottle of perfume made its way between them from out of nowhere, dangling like mistletoe. It...Han couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of it. 

“You wouldn’t happen to be looking for Y/n by chance, would you~?” Rei asked.

The proposed bottle had the painted label scratched off, where the replaced paint job read Love Potion No.9, along with a price tag of thirty-five coins. Han chuckled, doing his best to play off the awkward gesture. He had to tear his eyes away from it.

“Thank you, but no,” he stated, gently lowering her arm to the table. The sliver of his missing portion swam back into him, through his fingertips and up his arm, and this didn’t seem to go unnoticed by Rei, though he distracted her into shrugging it off. “I actually am looking for Y/n, if you happen to know where she is? I suppose you’re right about that part, actually.”

“Oh? Really?!” Rei’s face lit tenfold...again. She squealed. “Eeeeek, I knew it! Oh, I just love when this happens!”

Her face thrust straight into his, nearly close enough to kiss. It startled him into backing distance. 

“What is it?!?” She cried excitedly. “What do you need to see her for?! Oh, please tell me it’s to exchange letters! Or trinkets!” She looked like the shadiest business woman ever in the next second. “Y/n may have said she was organizing paperwork, but I knew what was really going on. Tee-hee!”

“...Ahh…” ...Shoot, what the hell was he supposed to say?! This girl didn’t seem like the type to appreciate being let down... “...There’s something I…” He gulped. “There’s something I wish to show her. Before setting out, that is.”

“Oh…” Her frown encased her disappointment. “I see...well, actually…” She twirled a strand of sleek black hair away from her tan complexion. “Y/n left about an hour ago...no, it has to have been longer than that…” Her frown deepened, looking off into the distance. “She took off as soon as lunch ended, and she hasn’t come back yet. I think she said she was looking for something…? But…” 

Now she was looking down vacantly into the counterspace. There was a dull sheen in her eyes.

“...I’m starting to worry. Y/n never just runs off for hours on end like this. It’s not like her at all. ...What if something…”

Han put a stop to that thought: one, because he hated seeing girls cry, and two, because he could tell she was the messy-crier that would get snot and tissues everywhere, including his hair and earring; also there was three: his ass on a silver platter, courtesy of His Angry-Cursed-Forever Highness. If he failed to secure Y/n…

He didn’t wanna think about it. Which is why he swiftly set Rei upright, patting her shoulders and promising that he would go out and look for her. She couldn’t have wandered far, seeing as her whole livelihood was on the line (and in the hands of someone like Rei…whom he didn’t know that well, but still…)

“Can you give me an idea of where she may have gone? Which way did she go?”

“Yeah, sure! She went that way, and, oh yeah, she took our vending license with her! Do you think she could have gone to City Hall, maybe…?”

It was unlikely. City Hall was in the other direction, to the north-east; and according to Rei, Y/n had ventured south. The only thing there was lower-class common folk and the city gates, meaning the only conclusion he could come to was that she needed to verify her legitimacy in order to continue business, or she needed out.

After questioning some guards under a guise of glamour and shade (which was necessary for...private reasons), he was at last directed to a middle-aged man who claimed to have allowed the girl to leave some three to four hours ago. Before they could get an answer out of him as to why he wanted to know, Han vanished into the shadows like a thief in the night, slipping through the straying crowds towards the nearest alleyway, where he plopped down, zipped below, and popped right back up on the other side of the great city wall.

Removing his hood, he looked around, scanning the area for any clues of Y/n’s whereabouts. But, of course, nothing.

Dammit, it was getting late! It was already late!

Han bit his nails, fuming. Pacing. He was going to be in so much trouble if he didn’t…!

...Sigh. Screw it all. He’d just have to look for her. If he found her fast enough, he could come up with some plan to make it back to Everain before sunrise.

He began his search heading South, into the clamour of trees. Past one tree, two, five, twenty. Deeper and deeper he traveled, gradually becoming one with the earth and expanding his search among the elements. Beneath the earth, brushing against roots of trees and flowerbeds, he could “see” everything-- as far as a twelve mile radius. 

His shadowed extensions stretched over the land, covering all ground within reach like the hands of a clock, time traveling faster and faster until…!

...He found it. Er, her. His senses zoomed in on a house, caved in from years of age and resentment, crumbling to dust even now outside the confines of Y/n...and……someone else…

...Someone he knew.

Out of breath, he nearly choked in the enclosure of his own realm, eyes wide and heart frozen stiff. It took every last bit of strength to push himself free, for he couldn’t escape fast enough; not when a demonic witch like her was around. 

Except...he’d started to run the wrong way. And then he stopped entirely, unable to move.

He hated that decrepit old hag. After everything that happened...the magic, the sorrow, the black fires of hell...he wanted nothing to do with her. He’d sworn that the moment he saw her again, it would be too soon. The witch that had taken his humanity.

It was she who had cast them all to hell in a handbasket, after all.

Standing there beneath the blotted night, gentle caresses of wind cascading and percolating through strands of brown and blue, he looked down to his bare hands, setting focus to the rivets of small scars where rivers of shadow flooded his veins.

A knock at the door. A sneer. A warning glare.

He tightened his grip on the air, so free and billowing carelessly in contrast to him.

A push. A harsh remark. A confident smile.

He squeezed his eyes shut.

Anger… Resentment… Fire…

And…then…

He gasped for air once more. Not now. Now was not the time to think. He needed to act, to push all of this past him. It was the only way to break the curse and save Hyunjin, and in return, himself. The entire palace of Everain— the whole city, perhaps— was counting on him.

...Shadow. The only thing I remember...is black.

 Cringing, he threw caution to the wind, where fear was meant to reside with the birds.

- ❧ -

The house was as old and vile as the woman who lived there. Vines snaked and slithered their way around the entire enclosure like a brood of thorned vipers, between cracks in the wall panels and over the steps leading to a gaping front door, just asking to trip its prey into it’s dark clutches. Into her clutches; those wrinkled leathered hands dripping with metaphorical blood and darkness.

Han hated all of it. He’d known about the Witch’s home for a long time, but he refused to ever step foot on her accursed soil (...until now, that is). The problem was, her biome was always changing, shifting and teleporting all over the place. Few unlucky souls who had survived to see it dubbed it Howl’s Moving Castle.

That title entirely ruined the book for him. Not that he particularly enjoyed reading, anyway; but he refused to lift it or so much as look at the book’s spine resting in the lavish, dusty library back home.

“Hey,” he called, marching right in. There wasn’t time for cold feet or second thoughts; if he didn’t have Y/n, there would be no point in going back. Returning without Y/n meant certain death via Hyunjin, but going through the Witch’s Biome meant likely death via whatever disdainful plot the Witch could come up with. At least facing the Witch’s path, he had a slim chance of making it out alive. If he were fast enough.

He’d thought about it on the way over: before, he had no powers to speak of. He’d been a regular, average teenage boy just trying to make it up and through adulthood, figuring out what he wanted to do with his life. But with the Witch’s curse, all that changed; he was essentially one with the darkness; and darkness was everywhere. Especially here. 

Assuming Y/n was conscious and able to move, he calculated that with high enough confidence and self-esteem, he should have no problem distracting the foul old hag long enough for his last hope to escape. (And Lord knew he had plenty of that to go around...)

Darkness clouded the entire room, choking out all light save for a few small rays of moonlight. The temperature seemed to be dropping 10 degrees every second. “Hello?” He tried again, checking left, right. “I...I know you’re here. Witch.” He was already beginning to seethe. “Come out. Where is Y/n?”

There was no response. Nothing creaked, no one croaked. Not even the wind outside made a sound.

Then something darted behind him, to the right, and he parried the opposite direction, biting his lower lip. Here it came. The worst part.

A single field mouse made its way into the faint slivers of rooftop moonlight. And there it sat, perched on its hind legs, whiskers twitching and tail dancing rhythmically across the uneven floor.

“How do you like?” came a creaky frail voice from beyond. Her voice was a sour note to his ears.

Han gritted his teeth, tasting blood on the horizon. “I’m not here to rate your latest experiments,” he spat. “That better not be Y/n. Show yourself, now.”

A lingering moment passed before the fleabag chuckled, stepping ancient bones into the small pool of light. “Alright, alright,” she said, in a mockingly chiding tone. “No need to get so angry. That’s what got your friend into so much trouble, after all. And look what it did to you.”

Two minutes in, and she was already hitting a nerve. Nerves that needed to remain untouched were his plan to go smoothly. “Don’t tell me what to do. I don’t take orders from you. You already ruined me. What more could you possibly do?”

A dark foreboding thought brewed up a storm in her eyes, just lingering on the edge of sanity. “Believe me,” she rasped, “I showed you both mercy.”

Han flinched. He couldn’t help it. He wanted to explode, yet cower in terror, all at once. He was livid, yet terrified-- anxious-- and a little sick to his stomach. “Give me Y/n. Right now. I didn’t come here to chat.”

The old woman smiled. “I can’t,” she simply stated, not moving an inch.

“Why not?!”

“Because you’re standing on her.”

Horrified, Han shot his gaze downward. Corsarn, he didn’t think he’d been standing on anything but the…!

But there was nothing but paled wooden planks. The Witch laughed. “Ahahah, not physically on her, dear. Though this house is so old, you may as well be...I’m surprised the floors haven’t caved in to match the roof.”

After holding her gaze a moment too long, he took a step back, flitting his eyes between Witch and supposedly underground wardrobe. “Open the door. Slowly.”

“Oh, so now I’m supposed to be taking your orders?” She scoffed, sighing at the end. “My, how times have changed…”

“Just do it!” he ordered.

The Witch gave a stern, slight scowl. “Oh, fine. I’m out of enough magic to put another curse on you anyway,” she muttered. Tapping her ancient walking stick once, twice upon the rotting floors, something clicked below, and the square space where Han had been standing swung open. “Just so you know,” she added, “I took the liberty of having a little fun, as you probably already guessed. She’ll be out for a few hours, but I don’t foresee death in her future; at least, not in the near one,” she chuckled.

“You--!” ...Rrgh. He still had to bite his tongue. His lip was already going to be busted and sore tomorrow. 

Trotting down steadily with caution, before the gaze of a putrid old smile he descended the hidden staircase, never once letting his guard down. The girl he sought was safely snoozing in one piece, lying like a waking dream...other than being unconscious.

He gathered her up, using shadow to cross the room, just in case a trap was lying dormant on the way over, and with Y/n in his arms, he almost thought about attempting to drag her into the Shadowworld with him, just so he didn’t have to face the old has-been again and make a clean getaway.

But it was too risky. And likely, it wouldn’t work; so carefully, he placed one nimble foot in front of the other, across the blank room, up the stairs, and into the familiar darkness from moments before. The Witch was still waiting for him, still as a statue in the exact location she had been. She followed him all the way to the door, tittering at his suspicion of the whole thing. 

She then watched as they made it off the porch. “Here,” she announced, sensing his urgency; for he’d just been about to make a run for it before she called him.

Nervously, he turned around halfway, holding Y/n tighter.

The bat continued her chuckling. She scooped down surprisingly swift, tossing something gray and furry into the air. It landed haphazardly onto his arm, clinging for dear life to his sleeve with a faint squeak! before scampering up to his shoulder. “Take him,” she said, making a shooing motion with her hand. “I have no need for the pitiful thing. He can keep you company on your way back.”

Company? Oh, no no no. He didn’t think so. He wasn’t stupid; Han knew of her tricks. The rat was probably a spy, or some kind of ticking time bomb. Forcefully, he shifted his grip on the girl, snatching the creature from its place--

...Except, he meant to throw it back. He did. He would have tossed the wretched thing to the ground and stomped on its brains without a second thought.

But it’d cried. Shrieked. Wailed. He knew the sound of terror when it howled.

Glancing up, he saw that it was crying. Actually crying.

Something was off. It had to be human...or at least, have some sort of intelligent wit.

Loosening his grip, he allowed the creature to squirm and wiggle its way free, scampering up his arm and tucking itself fearfully in the pouch of his hood with a nosedive. Sensations of trembling fell against his upper backside.

“Take care on your way home; you may need it.” 

A twisted smile. Tch.

Glowering amongst the laughter, he left the darkness behind him.

| Four ❧

“How may I assist you, dear?” The old woman asked.

Your eyes scanned the area, dilating and adjusting to the faint light. “I’m sorry,” you began, giving a small, polite bow. “I didn’t know anyone was home.”

“Oh, now, that’s alright~” The woman insisted, beckoning you farther in. “Come, come, sit! Make yourself a home. I’m the one who invited you in, yes?”

“...” Carefully you nodded, moving with caution to take a seat at the dusty worn table. 

“Now,” she said, popping joints as she settled across from you. “What can I do for you today?”

“...Do for me?”

She chuckled. “Yes, yes…” Her eyes were impenetrable, boring into yours. You had trouble looking away. “No one comes here without a purpose. There are no happy accidents.”

“......” Again, you found yourself hesitating, having trouble forming the right words. Words were becoming a limited resource all of a sudden. 

“Well~?” the woman pressed.

“...” You swallowed dryly. Something just wasn’t right; but who were you to lie to an old woman? In her own home, nonetheless. “I’m looking for someone...my horse, actually.”

“Hmm, I see…”

“She wandered off...well, no, that’s not true.” You sighed. “I left her by accident. I abandoned her without meaning to, out front of Westwind city. We’d woken up late, my friend and I, and in our hurry and a near-death experience thanks to someone, I ended up forgetting all about her. When I went back to fetch her and bring her home, she was gone.”

“Oh, my…” The old woman was still smiling. “That sounds like some adventure the two of you had! Though, tell me…” She tilted her head. “Who is this “someone” that got in your way?”

“Hm? Oh,” You sighed, again. “Some strange boy that just showed up out of nowhere and offered to help me move the cart downhill. He’s no one special.”

The woman chuckled. “Well, he must be to have stepped up and offered you assistance in this day and age,” she replied. “What was his name?”

There was an intensity you didn’t like. As if she were interrogating you for answers. 

Dryly, again, you swallowed.

“Han-something, I think. Han...Jisung.”

That’s when it had been over. But you hadn’t known that; not yet.

“Han Jisung…” The woman repeated. She was clearly searching the archives. 

Then she found what she was looking for, and curving crooked fingers skyward, she beckoned your hands to be placed atop of her on the table.

“Give me your hands, dear. I know just what it is that you need.”

If only you hadn’t listened to her… 

- ❧ -

You were no fool. You saw what the witch had done to you, just before falling unconscious.

Stirring now, you curled into the weight of something dark and soft, something sheltering and warm against the cold night air. Whatever it was held you tighter, the world slowing down.

“Y/n? Are you alright? Can you hear me?”

Ow. Yes.

One of the side-effects must have been a splitting headache…

“Yes...I can hear--”

Rrpt! Hold on a second. You knew that voice…!

In all haste you shot upright, only to collide foreheads with Han Jisung, the both of you growling in pain. Your headache just got ten times worse.

“Ow…! Sh*t, of all times and places…” After counting one, two Mississippis for the pounding to decrease, you sent him a glare, blurry vision mixed with clouded judgement. “What are you doing? What’s going on, where are you taking me?!”

The foolish boy snorted, ignoring you to continue walking. As your eyes cleared of drowsiness, you could see the two of you were alone, out in the middle of the forest. “A simple thank you wouldn’t hurt, y’know. I did just finish saving your life a few hours ago.”

“You…?” Hesitantly, you looked around again, pressing a hand to your forehead in feeble attempt to decrease anymore throbbing heartbeats. “...Where are we? I don’t know what you’re talking about. Put me down this instant.”

“You sure do ask a lot of questions for someone who was just cursed and knocked out.”

“I said, put me--! …” 

You paused. The whole world seemed to.

Carefully, slowly, you turned your face back towards the sunlight. “...Wh...What did you say?” 

Han snorted. Again. “You heard me. You waltzed right into the Witch’s Biome like an idiot, and now you’re one of us. I don’t know what I’m going to tell Hyunjin…”

...You’d stop listening towards the end. Everything just naturally tuned out, your eyes falling aimlessly to stare vacant holes into the dimensional rift of the traveling space around you. 

“In case you’re wondering,” Han’s voice cut through, calling for your attention once more. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m taking you to my friend; well, he’s really more of my...uhm…”

You waited vacantly for an answer.

“...Uhhh…”

You didn’t have time for this. Not that anything mattered or made sense anymore. Still, you weren’t going to idly sit here and listen to Tweedle Dee make dumb noises the rest of the night. “He’s what?” you pressed, aggravation clearly showing. “Is he your master or something?”

Han Jisung nearly dropped your hungover cursed arse. Which told you you were right, even if he kept insisting you were wrong. It was pretty funny to see him fuming and hot under the collar the rest of the walk.

Speaking of walking, you had fidgeted and demanded to walk by yourself, but after nine nos and a tenth yes, you found you had absolutely no strength in your wobbly, jelly-like legs. Resulting in Han carrying you like an unfortunate groom once more.

Yes, you’d argued for him to take you back. But no, he refused.

Which meant he had to be that kidnapper the city guard mentioned after all.

This lead you to be afraid, and rightly so; what if Han killed you?! What if he actually was dangerous, and he had been lying to you from the start. Nothing he’d been saying up until this point made sense anyway; and just look at the way he was dressed. Only crazy people wore such strange, unusual attire, so futuristic and bizzare-looking. 

And, you noticed, the closer you got to...wherever he was taking you...the more and more his appearance changed.

It was gradual, slow at first; just a random strand of hair, a speck of color in his eye that hadn’t been there before. Then, out of nowhere, it was like time sped up around him, and his eyes became a solid, bright blue, his hair a darker contrast, and that lone earring he wore shimmered with a paradoxical bright darkness, like shadows giving birth to light.

It was...insanity. Yet, regrettably, you had to admit he’d grown incredibly attractive. 

Han didn’t speak much the second half of your trip, and neither did you. You were too busy trying to process what was happening, and he was lost in his own world, eyes never leaving the road ahead except to occasionally check on you. It was a nonverbal communication: Are you still doing okay? / Yes, I’m fine. Quit staring at me. / Yeah, okay, you’re welcome.

About two hours later, the two of you arrived at the gates of an old, rustic castle, and a city that looked all but lost.

| Five ❧

Your headache had at last subsided by the time you arrived at Everain Palace. ...Or at least, that’s what the sign said it was called. You were barely able to read it through the layers of rust and vines, however. “This is the place?”

“Yep,” your entourage announced, setting you down beside him. “It’s been a few hours now, so you should have the strength to walk again, at least to your room. But I’m sure I can get some lackey somewhere to carry you the rest of the way if you can’t manage.”

“Hold on...what?”

“What?”

He finished setting you down, and you wobbled your way back a few steps, leaning against the gate’s archway for support. “I’m not staying here. I can’t. I have to get back to Rei and find Carrots, my stupid horse. Then, I’m renaming her Dumdum and we’re sweeping all of this under the rug.”

Instead of laughing, or perhaps getting a little angry even, Han Jisung stared at you with the most pitiful glance anyone had ever given another human soul. It was dreadful, but soft, somewhat loving, and oozing with regret.

And then he said those abysmal words you were scared of hearing all along.

“I’m sorry, Y/n. But I’m afraid you won’t be traveling anywhere anytime soon.”

You stared at him dumbfounded. This was it, you thought. The truth revealed. He really was a kidnapper; and now, you were his next victim. The whole charmingly dopey and idiotic act had been just that: an act. And you’d fallen for it.

So you did the next thing you could think of, seeing as fighting and running away were out of the question in your weak and disoriented state.

“KIDNAPPER!!!” You screamed. “THIEF! HUMAN TRAFFICKING!! HELP!!!”

But soon you remembered your surroundings, where you were at this time: a rundown city that appeared to have been abandoned for years, closed off in an eternal slumber. Everything was covered in vines and dust, and hardly anything made a sound.

You were doomed.

Han rushed over quick to keep your mouth shut while sweating at the seams, but a chomp to his hand did him right good, and while he was bouncing around and airing out his hand like a blubbering buffoon you tried making a run for it. Keyword: tried.

In the end, you only made it as far as the circle of trees isolating this town before something pierced the back of your neck, and you were a prisoner of sleep all over again.

- ❧ -

You aren’t quite sure; perhaps you slept for eight, nine hours. All you knew is that when you awoke, there was sunshine pouring through the curtain-laced window like the brightest waterfall.

A...curtain-laced window...and silk sheets… … … 

You hopped to it the next second that thought circled your mind.

No. Oh, no…

...This certainly wasn’t your room. Your room was with the stars, the ocean, the grassy plains and trees, Rei at your side. This was an actual room, complete with a bed, canopy, dresser and wardrobe, a nightstand, and an additional table with matching chairs, four to be exact; two large windows, standing side by side at opposite ends of the room to your left. One beside the table, one near the door.

There was a note left for you on the nightstand (to your left) as well.

Y/n -

I’m sorry I had to knock you out like that. But you’re one of us now, and I can’t afford to let you leave. It’s important. Lives are at stake. You have to trust me, please.

There’s someone I’d like for you to meet. More like I need you to. I’ll explain more later, when you’re awake. If you read this and you still don’t feel well, feel free to take another couple of hours to yourself, to get your bearings; but don’t sleep for too long. I’ll wake you when we’re more pressed for time.

Again, I’m really sorry about all this. I hope you can find it in you to forgive me, but I get it if you need more time. Just promise not to take it out on Hyunjin, if you happen to run into him first.

Signed, Han, your kidnapper

There was an additional piece of paper that fell from behind the original.

P.S. - That was just a joke. Don’t freak out. I’m not a bad guy, really. At least, not as bad as you probably think I am.

…

You didn’t know what to think of anything anymore. This was all just too much. What on earth had happened to you? How did you get roped into all of this? ...You’d just wanted to find Carrots, and bring her home so Rei wouldn’t be sad and you wouldn’t feel guilty and the two of you could save the trouble of having to buy a new horse, train him, yadda yadda yadda. Instead you stupidly and ill-fatedly stumbled upon the home of an actual witch, walked right in, and told her things you probably shouldn’t have. You didn’t like the way she’d looked at you when you mentioned knowing Han Jisung.

The Mark of the Rose, the witch had slurred, eyes wide with a sinister grin. A blessing, and a curse.

Then she’d spouted some sort of riddle:

When sunrise comes and all is lost, Look upon the oldtown cross There you’ll find just what you seek This aging woman’s prophecy But if yet still you manage to bend And find and seek what storm’s may rend May fortunes smile and bring you light For the many remaining days of your life

...She hadn’t told you what the heck any of that was supposed to mean. For one, how could plaguing you with a mark from some wicked sorcery be a blessing?! And, what’s more...how was it a curse…? ...Her strange chanting hadn’t made any sense, though that last part had sounded nice...maybe that was the blessing?

Something made a skittering, scuffling sound. Turning to your left, something small and fuzzy caught your eye, climbing up a chair leg and coming to rest on the cushion above. It was...holding a crumb of cheese. Sitting there like a person, flat on his bum.

It was some kind of rodent.

You bristled all over, hair standing on end. “A RAT!!!” You shrieked, leaping from bed to dresser. Thankfully it had been bare atop the surface, minus the unlit candle and some kind of ornate mirror, which was an unfortunate accident. Seven years of bad luck was just what you needed, on top of everything.

The moment you let out a cry of alarm, the mouse similarly screamed-- possibly louder than you-- spasming out of the chair and running in circles with sweat flying from its brow until it ran into another chair leg and clocked out, rolling into the path of sunlight.

You’d been about to grab that discarded candle as a weapon until the room became incredibly bright. Clouds parted from outside, sunlight magnifying to flood the whole room. 

And then, when the sunlight narrowed to pierce the unconscious vermin straight through its heart, he became a boy. 

Hair the color of sunset and cheeks flushed rosy pink, full of freckles scrunched his nose, squinted, and wearily stared back at you, upside down. Prayerfully, by some miracle, he was still wearing clothes.

That didn’t change the fact that you had no idea what to make of this sudden development. You stood there, hunched frozen atop the dresser, candle half off the floor and jaw nearly there.

“Hn-- nnnngh…” he groaned, sitting up with a hand to his head, much like you had leaving the Witch’s Biome-- that’s what Han had called it, right? “...Ouch...that’s the last time I go exploring on my own…” He glanced at you over his shoulder, giving a kind, tired smile. “Thanks for turning me back! I’m sorry I scared you, Y/n.”

Your candlestick went flying across the room. 

“OW!!!”

“WHO ARE YOU?! HOW DO YOU KNOW MY NAME?!” you yelled. An accusatory finger followed. “This isn’t funny, and I’ve been through enough now! I’m sick of playing games, give me an answer right now or I’m throwing this broken mirror next!”

The door burst open. “What’s going on in--?! …”

Han Jisung was staring at Mouseboy curiously at first, widen eyes unblinking, you on the dresser second, a careful blink there...but the moment his eyes landed on the cracked mirror, he fell to his knees, hands in his hair.

“OH SH*T!” He shrieked, panicstricken all over. His voice was more pitched than (should be) possible. “What the hell did you do?! Who did this?!?”

Innocently, Mouseboy pointed to you, as if he had any right to be part of the blame game. “It was an accident, though,” he vouched (like that was supposed to make it better!). “I did the same thing when I woke up and saw myself an hour ago; you should have seen it, I broke five of those things! Talk about unlucky!”

He laughed. Han screeched, looking like The Scream. “YOU DID WHAT?!?!”

There was going to be a river running through the room by the time he finished sweating, pacing all over the place while nearly showering the floor and furniture with strands of blue hair. Mouseboy scratched his speckled-cheek, shifting to rest on the calves of his brown-clad work pants (He’d obviously been some kind of farm or errand boy before all this). “S-Sorry about that...it was an accident, really…” He bowed his head. “I-I can maybe get my boss to cover any property damage, but man, I’ll be working forever to pay it off…”

He sighed. You almost (almost) felt bad for him. But it was gonna take a lot more than just looking cute and pitiful to sway your emotions.

When at last he’d finished his...episode...Han stood from where he’d kneeled in prayer on the pinewood floor, swiping a hand over his face, shaking it off, and placing determined hands on his hips. “Okay,” he declared. “It’s alright. I’ll just have to convince Jeongin to pull an all-nighter and fix everything. Good thing he knows a thing or two about craftsmanship!”

Jeongin? …

You faltered, repeating the name curiously as you hopped off the dresser, now that the vermin crisis was over. Thankfully, your absent-mindedness didn’t cost you any cuts or bruises, seeing as there very well could have been shards of broken glass on the floor…

Han smiled your way, nodding. “Yeah, that’s right. We have a lot of introductions to get out of the way, so if you’re ready...well, you might want to get dressed first.”

Even more curiously, you looked down to examine yourself.

An eggshell, lace nightgown greeted your eyes.

… … … 

Who changed you...?!?!

| Six ❧

“Right, so,” said Han, pointing to each stranger in a misfit-lineup. “This is Seungmin, Jeongin, and...Felix, right? ...Yeah, okay, Felix.” He smiled, gesturing to you next. “Family, this is Y/n.”

Everyone either waved or bid you their own form of greeting, some shy, others more open. Now dressed in a sea-green gown with white-lace trim and possibly the most gaudy over exaggerated bow in the back (smaller, matching ones on your shoes and hair), you did your best to curtsey, though it was awkward and embellished to say the least, and really you’d just used it as an excuse to hike up your quarter-calf socks that refused to stay put. “Yeah, alright...nice to--”

“And this...is Hyunjin.”

The air got a little colder all of a sudden; both metaphorically and otherwise. You glanced up from rebuckling the annoying Mary Jane’s on your feet. Froze.

A tall, slender man stepped forward from where he’d been leaning against the wall beneath the cloak of shadow in the hallway. Now, stepping forward in the light of a grand, deserted chapel, his dark hair combed back by rough fingers pressed for time, he was…he was… 

He was staring at you as if you’d hung the moon in the sky. His eyes were so round and...big. Practically moons themselves.

“......” Han cleared his throat, voicing everyone else’s discomfort. “Yes, well...okay, then. This is great! See?!” He motioned to you as if you were some kind of showcase prize. “I brought her back, just like you asked! Now there’s no need to do anything rash or bloodthirsty! Hahah…hah…! …”

Everyone was strangely silent. Looking at each face in turn, though many were staring at you, none could look you in the eye; and no one dared to so much as peek in this Hyunjin fellow’s direction. In fact, the red-headed boy, Jeongin, seemed...almost...rather afraid.

“Hang on,” you interjected (though there was nothing but silence for sometime now). The gears in your mind cranked back to the letter folded messily on the nightstand: Lives are at stake. I need you to meet someone. “So you’re saying you brought me here because...your friend wanted me here?” You huffed. “I don’t understand. You said that lives were at stake. Who’s dying?” 

Quiet. A somber aura fell over the small gathering; maybe that had been a little brash of you to ask outright…

But you needed answers! Why were you here? What was going on? “...Han,” you said, and instantly the boy looked up at you. “Why did you bring me here? What’s going on? …” You scanned the other four faces of boys around you. “What did you mean when you said...I was…” You shook your head. Doubts were flooding in like a dam had just snapped. “This better not be a set up.”

...More quiet. Han cleared his throat once more, stepping back in line. He had no answers to give; his features only hardened. The other three boys in line were looking anywhere else-- the floor, the walls, the ceiling. Oh, look at that beautiful glass window up there. And look at that one!

Hyunjin just kept on staring at you as if staring right through you; like he couldn’t comprehend your existence. He was completely locked in a trance.

After you’d carefully righted yourself, and had just begun turning away to get the heck out of Dodge, it was Seungmin that spoke next. “You’ll have to forgive him,” he called, scratching his head. You turned around. “It’s been a while since any of us have seen another human being before, nonetheless one that isn’t cursed--”

Han flinched, just out of the corner of your eye. Twitch. “...Oh, you mean…”

Your eyes locked with Hyunjin’s, still stuck in outer space. Seungmin nodded. “Yeah...and as for him--” He flicked his eyes on Han. “He’s just stupid.”

“Hey!” The man protested. Seungmin simply rolled his eyes. 

“Well it’s true! I bet you failed to explain anything that’s going on to this poor girl. Just look at what you made her wear!” He gestured rather violently to your ridiculously (somewhat childish) outfit. “She looks like she stepped out of a dollhouse. The cheap, tacky kind they used to sell down the street at Aunt Marie’s.”

“Um, actually…” You scowled. “I dressed myself. There wasn’t much to go off of in the closet other than old-era gowns and...well, that was basically it. Speaking of which, though…”

You stomped forward. Everyone (minus Trancy) jumped. 

“Which one of you changed me before?! I don’t recall wearing or even owning some fancy nightgown before getting the lights shot out of me.”

Seungmin’s jaw slacked. “You drugged her too?!”

“Only because she was trying to escape!” Han griped. “I didn’t want to have to shoot her! Besides, it wasn’t like I used anything heavy…”

“Still,” Red-headed Jeongin said, siding with his buddy. “What would Hyunjin say if he weren’t lost in his thoughts again? And did you even consider Y/n?”

Han scoffed. “I brought her back, didn’t I? I’m pretty sure that’s all that matters.”

“Regardless,” Seungmin spoke, “You still basically brought her here against her will. That’s kidnapping. I’m pretty sure the curse isn’t going to--”

“Hello?!” you yelled, waving your arms. “I asked you all which one of you changed--! …”

Your eyes landed on Felix. The boy blinked, innocently processing, then bloomed another shade of rosy pink. “O-Oh, no…!” He waved his hands. “It wasn’t me, honest! I’ve been stuck as a mouse since last Tuesday! A-Also, you were already...I-I mean, I suppose if it wasn’t you, someone else had already…”

His voice trailed off; too modest, and he had a solid alibi. It couldn’t be him. In the background, Han and Seungmin were still arguing, with Jeongin occasionally chiming in to support Seungmin’s case.

“Let me guess,” Seungmin mused, arms crossed. “You probably stole them from Lady Verena down the road.”

Han made an urk! sound. Seungmin sighed.

“I knew it...no wonder she’s dressed so gaudy…” He and Jeongin turned to you with kind eyes. “Listen, Y/n. We’re really sorry about all this. If you need anything, from now on come to me or Jeongin. We’ll be sure to take care of you. Heck,” he grumbled, “even the new guy Felix could have done a better job…”

Felix smiled awkwardly. You and Han both fumed; for different reasons. “That’s not what I--!”

A low growl cut through the lowly-chaotic atmosphere. Everyone ceased their bickering.

The assumed head of the palace had awoken.

- ❧ -

He walked circles around you. Circles and circles and circles… 

You were starting to get more than a little dizzy.

“Fascinating…” Hyunjin mused. It was as if he were the only one in the room, and you were merely a lifeless figurine on display. While he spun himself into further insanity and far too strong curiosity, Seungmin and Jeongin both sent you sympathetic looks to “hang in there” and “just go with it.”

But you didn’t want to go with it. You wanted to go out-- away-- back home to the caravan, to the wagon that had Rei and Carrots and all your useless junk people gave life to, and you a profit. “I’m sorry,” your voice cut the mostly vacant air, save for the headmaster’s mumbling and strangely heavy breathing. “Am I missing something here? If you like or...don’t like my outfit, just tell me and I can either say “thank you” or change and we can all move on to more important topics, like, say...why I’m here? What’s going on?!”

Hyunjin froze a quarter of the way to facing you from the left, his brown eyes strangely wide (though really, everything about this man was strange). In the back, Seungmin and Jeongin once again made faces attuning to the atmosphere; in this case, nervous frowning.

They were all treating Hyunjin like some sort of ticking time bomb. Han obviously feared and weirdly resented him, it was plain and simple on his face, and even Felix was picking up something about this guy that you couldn’t sense. When he wasn’t distracted by colorful art or the dirt under his nails, he was sending highly strung vibes his way.

...In all honesty, you weren’t sure why you didn’t just walk out. Nothing was stopping you...really. There was a clear path from here to the great big hallway Han had escorted you down, Felix in tow, and from there a million other doors, all leading to someplace that had to be better than here. One of them-- at least five, or ten-- had to lead to some winding hallway that would take you to the great outdoors.

Just when you’d thought to inquire further on that, Hyunjin finally began speaking, and not mumbling. “You appear to be real…but…”

He closed the (little) distance he’d given you in a single stride, and without warning placed both his hands on your shoulders...very...tentatively. Then, he trailed his fingers up to your cheeks.

You latched onto his wrists, on instinct. A synchronized gasping chorus filled the room like a daytime tragedy soundtrack.

But Hyunjin did nothing, if not for widening his eyes yet again to stare into the depth of your face like he was amazed at your reaction. Like it wasn’t normal or something.

“Hyunjin,” spoke Seungmin, “perhaps it would do you well to give the girl-- Miss Y/n-- her space. She is a human, just like the...er...ahem.”

...That was a sour note.

“Actually…”

All eyes were on Han except yours. Even Hyunjin snapped out of his trance to glare skeptically with concern, with Seungmin having to carefully pull him away so you could stop smelling his pungent breath.

“...Ahaha...ahahahahaha…” ...Han wilted. “I sorta...maybe...well, okay, I didn’t do it, but--”

“What did you do?” Hyunjin spoke. All eyes flew to him, then back at Han in anticipation. Like some sort of thriller novel. The daytime tragedy continued. Maybe you were in a tragic play of some sort, and there was a hidden audience just waiting to jump out and announce that you’d officially been pranked.

“………” He took a breath. “TheWitchcursedhertoo…!”

And then he covered his mouth, wincing moments too soon. 

The decaying chapel gasped. Hyunjin’s face turned hard, then slowly, bewitchingly, menacing.

“She did what?!”

Jeongin’s eyes went wide. “Y-You’ve been cursed too?” he asked, mournfully, almost with pity. Everyone appeared to display a sadness teetering on the edge between fear and hopelessness.

It was insane how quickly the airspace had shifted; though nothing normal had happened yet, everything had at least been more or less steady. Now, it was as if the room had been thrown off its hinges at the mention of the woman...the Witch. Which you were hoping had been a dream, but seeing as Felix was here, and Han bringing it up...definitely not.

Han whimpered; actually whimpered, like a child being scolded for breaking a vase. “I-It was an accident, honest!” He begged. “She didn’t know she was headed into the Witch’s Biome, and I lost track of her! BY ACCIDENT! When I found her, I swear I did everything I could to protect her, honest! Th-That’s where I met Felix, though I didn’t know he was really human at the time...and I brought them both back here.”

Seungmin made a curious face of urgency, almost seeming to sweat as he crossed diagonally forward to move you back, even going so far as to stand in front of you as a shield while Jeongin took care of Felix, tugging the mouse-turned-boy’s twine-sewn sleeve to take shelter behind some discarded pews.

What happened next wasn’t a dream, but surely a thing of nightmares. Right in league with the Witch’s hideout.

There was a swirling mass of black and deep red as something foreign and sinister took hold of the feared so-called Master of the House. Hyunjin began to grow bigger. Sharp, pointed fangs protruded from tight chapped lips pulled back in a snarl. His eyes told of hunger, bloodshot. Pitched daggers made of shadow and bone formed and crystalized along his fingertips.

You lost your voice. You could barely breathe. You weren’t even sure how you were able to stand.

“Hyunjin,” Seungmin warned, a sternness to his voice. “Think about what you’re doing. Y/n is here.”

Hyunjin growled, no longer a man anymore but some sort of...foul, hideous beast. He bore murderous eyes at Han. “I don’t care,” he growled, “I’m going to—!”

“You’re scaring her.”

… … …

That seemed to get his attention. Though the same couldn’t be said about yours; for though you stood still, frozen in time and space, your wandering mind was making a break for recalling the nearest exit. An empty, dizzying numbness choked your thoughts.

Hyunjin...if he could even be called that anymore...glared at you with wide, mournful eyes. Eyes full of fear and insecurity. Doubt. A horrible realization.

In the blink of an eye-- for you literally just had to blink-- he was back to normal. He stood apprehensively still, the rage and miasma gone, staring a hole into your Mary Janes. Perhaps staring at the reflection back at him.

Though he stood impossibly still, his voice gave him away in slight, wavering cracks. “...Forget what you just saw. It was merely an illusion. A trick of the light.”

“Uuuuh,” Felix interrupted. “P-Pretty sure that wasn’t-- mmph!”

Jeongin gave him a silencing, terrified eye. “Shhh!”

“......” With a passive grunt, Hyunjin continued. This time his eyes were directly on you; a wave of nervous energy pooled over your skin. “Dinner is at six p.m. sharp.” he said. “You will be there. ...We will have an encore of introductions, no...an entire reestablishment.” He turned his head viciously over his shoulder. The boy his eyes landed on squeaked. 

“Han,” he uttered. The said boy bit his lip. 

“Y-Yes…?”

Hyunjin deadpanned, in the most unamused, lifeless way. “Come.”

“Ahahahah, a-actually-- whAAA!”

A vase at the far end of the room shattered. Literally exploded, a few shards lodging themselves into innocently bystanding portraits and landscapes. When your attention strayed back, you could see Hyunjin had thrown something.

Han quickly bowed, visibly starting to sweat all over again. After a tense moment he stood, saying in the softest voice, barely a whisper, his agreement. 

Then, wringing the rings on his fingers, he nervously followed him out.

| Seven ❧

Dinner was set to be at six p.m. Attendance was apparently a requirement, given the formal invite Felix slipped beneath your door, turned back to a mouse once more (something about moonlight turning him into a...weremouse? ...The rules of his curse were rather complicated).

However, that didn’t mean that you had to be there.

“...And so that’s how I became a real boy again!” The mouse cheered, setting off a small party steamer Jeongin had granted him to lift his spirits. His tiny rodent eyes crinkled in delight as he beamed up at you from the dining table of your guest room, where the two of you were currently seated. You twitched your nose in timing with his, having stared at him and his life-story-since-last-Tuesday for far too long.

You shifted your weight to the other cheek. “So, really, all you had to do was make contact with sunlight. But you were too scared and kept to the shadows all this time.”

“Precisely! At least, I think that’s how it works!” He plopped down, digging some...cheese crumbs out of his coat. “That, and the old hasbeen wouldn’t let me leave every time I tried. Do you know when the last time I saw the sun was?! Go on, guess!”

“...Last Tuesday?”

He looked at you with wide-eyes, paws shoved up his piehole. He took a few minutes to chew and swallow. “...Oh, you’re good. No wonder you’re the chosen one to break everyone’s curse!”

You huffed, snorted really, leaning back to cross your arms in thought. A movie reel spun its way around your brain, projecting the late afternoon’s events on a white screen:

…Hyunjin’s retreating figure left some sort of impression in your mind, and Han seemed to vanish like ink washed off of a page. The moment they’d both gone, your knees buckled beneath you, hands hitting the cold pavement. Seungmin was down to your level in an instant, with Jeongin and Felix scurrying around pews, bits of rubble and broken glass.

“Y/n, are you alright? …” Seungmin asked, reaching out to you. He paused briefly to think. “...I’m going to check your pulse,” he announced.

As his fingers found their way around your wrist, Jeongin flanked to your other side with a first aid kit he’d salvaged from who-knew-where. Felix kept his distance, wringing his cap the way Han had wrung the rings on his fingers, but one look at his face told you he was just as concerned for your health as the others…he simply didn’t know what to do.

“Here, put this on her!”

“I’m alright,” you mumbled, pushing away an ice pack with sloth. Jeongin gave you a distasteful glare of sorts. 

“But you nearly fainted--!”

“I’m fine...really.”

“......”

Everyone laid off after that. 

Which you took as your cue to exit. In your retreating haste, albeit, you failed to see the sorrowful eyes that followed your fleeting back; but you could feel them, and it wouldn’t be long until they found a voice to stand upon.

“Come on, Felix,” you said. “I’ll see what I can do to get you home. I don’t know where you originally came from, but if it’s anywhere near Westwind, my friend and I can give you a lift.” ...It was the least you could do, after all. Felix hadn’t done anything wrong; he wasn’t the one that kidnapped you, or put a “curse” on you, which you weren’t even sure was real, by the way. Sure, some crazy stuff happened, but you didn’t feel any different. What if Han and the Witch and that Hyunjin guy were really all in kahoots, and this was just some kind of crazy...outrageous propaganda stunt?

Jeongin continued to stare, now in an incredulous manner. “Y/n…”

“Let her go,” Seungmin insisted, lowering Jeongin’s hand. The boy grasped the air weakly, the pulsing of his fingers mocking his faintly beating heart, breaths shallow and longing, feebly succumbing to trembles. It would have been painful to watch, had you known him better.

Felix, keeping a low profile as best he could in such tense situation, removed the beret he’d just finished placing back on his head, squeezing it before him. “...A-Alright,” he agreed after a moment. He paced over gradually at first, then broke into a nervous, jagged jog as he scuttled to your side. “Thanks…”

You smiled to hide the fear and insanity of what you’d just witnessed before. A man turning into a beast— a boy becoming like a shadow— everything that had happened up until now; it was just a dream, Y/n. A bad propaganda stunt. “Don’t mention it.” You turned over your shoulder. “...It was nice meeting you.”

Seungmin smiled, bitterly so, as Jeongin closed in on himself. “Same to you. Please, take care. I apologize for any trouble we caused you.”

With a nod, your footsteps echoed into the once-lavish corridor, Felix trailing nervously behind you. But then…

Those sorrowful eyes found their voice. “Wait, Y/n! Please, don’t go yet!” Someone was running after you. “Please stay, just for dinner at least! Please!!!”

...Your footsteps faded. Waiting.

“Please, Y/n…” Jeongin paused some ten feet away, falling to his knees to beg. “Cursed or not, only you can break the spell. I know how this must look to an outsider like yourself, but what Han said to you before in his letter...I’m sorry but I pried before he left it. He’s right. You’re one of us now. But you’re also you. And only you can save him. We…” His voice trailed off, eyes following, focusing on something in his hands...a locket of some sort? “...We gave up on ourselves a long time ago. But as weird and annoying and frustrating as he is, we made a promise to never, ever give up on Hyunjin. Like it or not he’s our boss, and our dearest friend. He’s been good to us for so many years...after all he’s done, we at least need to save him!” His eyes searched for yours, gripping his hands tightly, pleading, crying out with anguish and hope. “It might be too late, but we have to try! We can’t do anything like this...only you can save him. Please, Y/n…”

You’d been paying attention this whole time, but it was just now that you were starting to see: something dark and lively wrapping its way around Jeongin’s neck, then his right cheek. It was like a tattoo, only...alive. And moving. Black vines with thorns and heart-shaped leaves mapped their way across half the boy’s face, finally tangling into his bright, unnaturally red hair that sploched into ebony black, the color of Rei’s hair, only darker maybe, and then…

He began to fade. “...Please help him. He’s not as bad as he seems, honest! Please say you’ll stay and save him!”

...After that, Seungmin ran over and gave Jeongin some kind of shot that turned him back to normal and stopped him from disappearing, but…

What were you supposed to do when he started crying like that?! You weren’t expecting the waterworks…

Because you were both nice people, you and Felix hurried back to help, too, though all the two of you could really do was run circles around each other and agree to stay for just a bit longer. Just until dinner, you’d repeated. So we have the strength to travel.

...You would go to dinner. Really, the plan had been to just send Felix down. That wouldn’t do, though, now that you thought about it... Well, then, you certainly weren’t staying; you’d simply pop in to make sure that Jeongin kid was still alive, grab a roll or two, and then you’d be off to the nearest motel or campsite, because you certainly weren’t spending a night here. Come morning, you and hopefully Felix could hurry back to Westwind and after you took the boy home, or someplace close, you could get back to a normal life traveling and selling wares and running away from fate and customs.

“I’m pretty sure it’s just Hyunjin I’m supposed to fix,” you mumbled, getting back to the small conversation. You never thought in a hundred years you’d be sitting down in some old castle out in the middle of nowhere, talking to a rat (that was really a person, but still). Your eyes scanned the window beside you, out into the foggy gray beyond where nothing but trees and old abandoned buildings greeted you, lifeless along the horizon.

Mouse Felix was still stuffing his face with crumbs of cheddar and swiss. He seemed to have found some bread crust to pair with the former ensemble. “I mean, I guess. I think I heard that one guy, Seungmin, mention something about it being for everyone though? Or I could have just been hearing things…” He swallowed, stacking another small tower. “Wow, I’ve never had such an appetite until last Tuesday…”

“......” You rolled your eyes, counterproductive to your set jaw. How the heck were you supposed to save anyone? Why you, of all people?

That annoying chant the Witch had said replayed in your mind...maybe, if you could decipher it, you’d have some answers...how did it go, exactly…?

When sunrise comes and all is lost, Look upon the oldtown cross There you’ll find just what you seek This aging woman’s prophecy

Sunrise. So when the sunrise came...but, lost? What was lost?

A cross? You surveyed the area, but you didn’t see anything like that.

What you seek...was this you, or was you someone else? What was it you, or they, were looking for? You just wanted to go home…

...All you got from the last part was that this witch was crazy. Then, the rest went something like… But if yet still you manage to bend And find and seek what storm’s may rend May fortunes smile and bring you light For the many remaining days of your life

Okay, seriously, what were you bending?! This had to be metaphorical. So bend...what, your will? Heart? Find a loophole somewhere?

Were you finding what was lost? Would you find it if you found a loophole? Or had a change of heart?

Fortunes would smile upon you...something good would come.

For the rest of your days…

…You smacked your head against the table, startling poor Felix. Who were you kidding?! You’d already decided, that old hermit in the woods was crazy. Trying to translate some old ramblings was a waste of time…!

...And effective in giving you a headache. You groaned, massaging your temples as Felix detangled himself from your locks to scamper a safe distance away. 

“Y/n? Are you alright?”

“...Yeah. Fine.”

“...You don’t sound fine. You sound like Chan when he’s had a long night working on a new project and drank more coffee than he got work done. And I don’t think he even likes coffee.”

You turned your head. “Who’s that?”

Felix smiled. The only mouse that knew how to. “My boss, sort of. We both work for an entertainment company, at least...I did, before this happened.” He regarded himself sadly. “Ever since last Tuesday--”

You groaned again. “Urgh, I know, I get it already! Last Tuesday may as well be your catchphrase at this point.”

“...Sorry.”

“......” You peeked back at him, flicking a crumb of cheese his way. It seemed to take away all his problems like a one-way train. You sat up, grinning just a little at how cute he looked, nimbling innocently. The only rodent you’d ever find to be cute. “...Tell me more about it. About Chan, was it? And this entertainment company of yours. I honestly thought you were a farmer.”

“A farmer?” He thought. “Oh...yeah, my clothes! I grew up on a farm, and our company is relatively small. I just threw those on when I went exploring the woods.”

“And what were you doing exploring the forest on your own?”

“Uh...well,” he blushed. “I’ll tell you about Chan and the company first.”

His small, yet surprisingly bass voice carried on into the dimly-lit atmosphere. Maybe you just needed to take your mind off things. You were getting too wound up in something you weren’t even committed to being a part of. Once you saw Jeongin was okay, you’d be forgetting all about this place. So for now, you just needed to relax.

And who knew mice told such fabulous, intricate stories?

| Eight ❧

“Hyunjin, please…!”

Crash!

Another mirror. Terrific.

After their departure from the old art gala, Hyunjin had led the two to one of the many old studies that lied grungy and muted like the rest of the palace. In the circular room resided one dusty old curtain over a weathering window, a few bookshelves chalked with books likely to never be read again, a small table with various junk, a chair, another chair, a small loveseat, a slightly larger small grandfather clock...and a calendar with much angry scribbling, stains, and tears.

“Hyunjin, Jeongin can only fix so many mirrors at once...you know how this all works…you break a mirror, something in the castle vanishes. Then I take the heat for it!” 

The beast growled. “You don’t think I know that? Are you talking back to me right now?”

Han flinched. If he were human, surely he would have died from a thousand ulcers and the tight sensations of horrid anxiety by now… “N-Not by any means...Hyunjin,” With gritted teeth, he bowed his head. “Please, listen to me for a second. Let me explain.”

“Oh, that you will,” the beast grumbled. He gracefully spun himself into a red velvet chair, lifting another looking glass from the small table beside it in order to glare at himself broodingly. It made the small hairs of Han’s neck stand yielding, doing a little dance of anxiety. 

“V-Very well,” He said, standing back up straight. He gave an awkward glance at the broken mirror shards before deciding he’d better start talking his way out of another beating, and clean up later. “Our journey begins in the outskirts of Westwind city--”

Hyunjin raised his right arm, the mirror held precariously in the balance. “Too far.”

“NO DON’T!”

...Phew.

Removing the handheld treasure from the prince’s hand, his shadow took a few steps back, peering into it. Watching the door and bookshelf behind him, as shadows had no reflection. “...I traveled around...out yonder, just as you asked. Just like I said I would. I let the wind and my intuition, my hope, guide me, and within less than a day’s travel I came upon Westwind city. That’s where I found her, just outside the gates...she was accompanied by another, a young woman of close age. They looked too different to be related, so I assume it was a friend, or maybe a distant...distant relative. Anyway--”

Hyunjin sighed.

“...Anyway, I--”

“How did you know she was the one? And so close? So close to our village...it seems too good to be true. And I thought you said she was lying dormant somewhere.”

Han blinked, eyes flitting forward. A bead of sweat rolled down the side of his face. It took all his willpower not to flinch or show anymore signs of weakness. “W-Well, yes, she was, but uh...she escaped?”

“Oh really?”

“Yes. And so, I put her to the test.” 

Hyunjin narrowed his eyes. “You put her to the test? What does that mean?”

“I quizzed her. I knocked on the door of her heart...and she ignored me quite a few times, but eventually, I got in. In exchange for a favor.”

“What favor?”

Han smiled with pride. “I’d saved her friend’s life. Or...distant, distant relative. After that, I asked her carefully, very seriously, of her thoughts.”

“...About…?”

“The curse.”

“You told her outright about the curse?!”

Seeing as Hyunjin was near fuming, Han turned on the sprinklers, fanning his arms about. “No, no! Not outright! I was very tricky! I used lots of metaphors and figuratively-speakings! She had no idea to the core of the matter, really!” ...And anyway, did it even matter anymore? Y/n was well aware by now she wasn’t exactly in Kansas anymore...

“......” Hyunjin relaxed back in his chair. “So, what did she say?”

Han searched the dusty floorboards for a minute, before slowly twisting the mirror 180 degrees. “Well, sir, it was what I said first. I asked her…”

- ❧ -

“A man, or a beast? As individuals, do we have a choice?”

“...I’m sorry...I don’t understand the question.”

“Hmm…” Han thought. “...Imagine you were put under a...spell. A spell that turned you into a hideous monster, with fangs and claws and fur in places you’d never imagined...but it comes and goes, this curse of yours.” He tilted his head. “Are you still human? Or are you now a beast? Well?”

“...I...I don’t know,” you confessed, listing your gaze aside. “I really have no idea where you got such a crazy idea from.”

“Okay...then let me ask you this. I’ll help you out.”

He leaned forward this time. “Do you think we have a choice? Is it possible to define ourselves as one or the other?”

“Well...yes, I would think so.” Your eyes met his. “We all have a choice— to be monsters, or men. It is not a matter of blood, or a spell, but a condition of the heart.”

- ❧ -

Hyunjin leaned forward in his chair, eyes wide as saucers.

This time, he knew it, too. But he didn’t care how he must have looked. That fear died a long time ago, having stared at the many faces of Hwang Hyunjin over the years.

He simply couldn’t believe it. It really was true, then. It had to be her. The girl that would solve all his problems…!

...For the record, one should never put all their faith into one person in regards of “solving problems” or “fixing them,” but this was different. In this case, this girl really was the answer to lifting the curse plaguing his home and body for so many moons, so many long, hard-watched seasons…

And she was going to be having dinner with him. Not only that, but he only had a handful of hours left until it was all over, and everything set into stone.

The door behind Han slammed open, Seungmin entering the stage and stealing his spotlight like he normally did. Even before the curse, the boy who’d been his father’s auditor-in-training was always bursting in to bask in the limelight with his savvy knowledge, goody-two-shoes this and boring document question that.

He swears this was never the case, but Hyunjin knew better. “Do you mind? I’m having a discussion with--”

“Not now.”

“Excuse me?” Seungmin was rummaging around the room, spreading knick-knacks around, tossing books off shelves after quickly examining covers or flipping through a few pages, even going so far as to demand that Hyunjin stand so he could upturn all the seat cushions. “What are you doing?”

The boy genius frowned. “Jeongin had an episode after Y/n almost left. He—”

Hyunjin found himself shaking the boy in the next second. “Did he stop her?!”

“...Shouldn’t you be asking if he’s alright first?”

Hyunjin just continued to stare. Seungmin rolled his eyes.

“Yes, I was going to say, he managed to stop her. I did say almost left. By the way, Jeongin’s in peril right now, so if you could be so kind as to release me, I’d like to get back to ensuring his safety as soon as possible.”

As soon as Hyun dropped him, the boy got right back to work; tearing the room apart. Han pursed his lips.

“He had an episode? Did you give him a shot?”

The boy sighed. “Yes, but I’ve told you both before they’re only temporary. I’m looking for lavender oil, and the vine clippers. I don’t remember the original recipe to stop the ebb and flow, but I think I can make a close replacement from what I’ve read in the past.” He glanced over his shoulder a moment. “What were you getting so hot under the collar about, anyway? Is this about Y/n? Being cursed?”

Shoot, by the day, that was right. He was still angry about that. What if Han had blown it? What if this Y/n was defective now because she’d been touched by the Witch’s mad hand?

Oh, he was so going to get it if…!

“Eeek!” Han shrieked, already knowing what was to come. “Dammit, don’t remind him of that! I had just managed to get on his good side!”

Seungmin rolled his eyes again. “You’re never on his good side. All you two do is bicker and fight and run from or after each other until you’ve become one with the walls and he passes out from anger or resentment or both. ...Ah!” He smiled. “Found the clippers. Now for that oil…”

“Forget the oil!” Hyunjin roared. “We don’t have time for this! Ahh…!” He gritted both hands in his hair, looking out the window, up at the old miniature grandfather clock. “Time’s running out. Since she’s the one, we may still have a chance. Cursed or not we only have three days...two days…!”

It was at this point that Seungmin made a quizzical expression, pausing in his endeavors to pace rather calmly over to the calendar, checking the date. “...The anniversary of your curseday isn’t until next month. You have a whole season, almost.”

A...season?

“Let me see that,” Hyunjin demanded, shoving the kid aside. He peered anxiously at the line up, the rows of weeks in the calendar month that said… … …

Seungmin was right. He’d misread the date, in all his anxious spite.

He had until the next season. Until the first snowfall. Starting tomorrow, his clock would begin.

...Oh, who was he kidding?! His clock started tonight; with dinner.

In a tizzy, his whole attitude changed. No longer was he a grumpy, repulsive, bitter soul trapped in a cursed body. Mindlessly resenting his father, his past actions, the old beggar who’d shown up on his doorstep. He was a nervous young man about to have his first date in what felt like forever, because truthfully, it had been. “What am I going to wear?! ...Oh my gosh, she saw me transform…!” Horror filled his lungs with a ragged breath, hands flying to sunken cheeks. “I can’t let her see me now! But I have to! I have to break the curse...I mean, she has to break the curse! But what if--!”

“Hyunjin!” Han clamped his mouth shut. A bold move for someone that was normally terrified of him. “Calm down! I think that’s step one!” He looked around while Seungmin continued his search. “Step two would be...uh…”

“Finding an appropriate outfit?” Seungmin offered. Han beamed.

“YES, finding an appropriate outfit! Genius!”

Again, the boy rolled his eyes. “Yeah, who would have thought…?”

“C’mon!” The two flew past him, Hyunjin too preoccupied with his previous behavior, overwhelmed by too many truths, to even-- …

He rushed back into the room. “Did you say Jeongin was--?!”

“Let’s go,” Han ordered, yanking the househead by the collar. Leaving Seungmin alone to his bumbling foragery.

My, how times quickly changed.

| Nine ❧

Another spaghetti noodle found its way into Felix’s hair, alongside a half-eaten slice of garlic bread. 

In the great dining hall, chandeliers hung like clouds in a desecrated chamber, all covered in dust and cobwebs. A long, very long table stretched from one end of the wide room to the other, all set with dining ware meant to feed the entire Royal Family and their second cousins. A rainbow of food covered the crimson-draped platform, starting with English scones and biscuits on one end and ending with an Italian pot of gold on the other, complete with pastas, pizza, and a basket of garlic bread nestled to Felix’s right, who was seated at the table’s end. All along the walls sat candles lit with a hazy tint, casting shadows like lingering ghosts, light dancing across the faces of those present.

You slid your hand down one side of your face, safely hidden amongst the confines of two large chambers doors with one slightly askew. Good grief. You were simply waiting on Jeongin to show, to ascertain he was alright; until then, it was Felix’s one job to stall. What on earth was that foolish mouseboy doing shoving food in his hair?!

Seungmin, seated to the absent head’s left, and the only other soul in the room, cleared his throat loudly enough to be heard over the cultural expansion of what was meant to be one supper. “Felix!” he called, “Might I ask why you’re storing food on your persons? You’re...not a mouse at the moment.”

Unfortunately it didn’t reach far enough, as Felix continued to store and gobble down food. “Mm… What’d you say, cuz?”

Seungmin frowned. “I said,” he repeated, raising his voice, “you’re not a mouse anymore!”

Felix blinked, pausing red-handed while sliding a breadstick into his shirt pocket. “...Aren’t I?” He examined himself. “...Oh.” He blushed. “I suppose you did give me one of those fancy needles, didn’t you? I’m not used to being a real boy at this hour.”

Seungmin sunk back into his seat; a sigh.

Oh, but for Pete’s sake, where was Jeongin?! Seungmin could at least mention his current condition, so you could skedaddle your way to the nearest exit with a salad to-go. Better yet, some pasta and a pound of those chicken tenders sounded all the better…

No, no Y/n! Now was not the time to be thinking about food...even if it’d been a while since you last ate...more like a day…

...Ooooooh...pizza and...shrimp cocktail…

A pile of desserts rested center stage. Was that German chocolate you were seeing...?

“So,” Seungmin called. “Will Y/n be joining us this evening?”

Your attention snapped back to reality. Felix shook his head alongside tearing into a drumstick. “‘Fraid not,” he replied.

“Mm…” the other boy nodded. “...May I ask why? Is she feeling alright?”

Felix paused again. Forgetting the pasta and German chocolate, you pressed yourself against the closed door in order to be as close as possible, ear resting just next to the shaded chandelier and candlelight. 

Just like we practiced, Felix. Come on, just like we rehearsed.

“Uuuh,” Felix stammered. “Th-That’s…”

His head listed aside in thought. Ugh! No, what was he doing?! 

Felix chewed much longer than he needed to while racking his mouse-sized brain for an answer. Your fingertips pressed into old polished wood, silently begging the boy to remember what you’d just discussed twenty minutes ago.

Remember...think, dang it!

Suddenly, he swallowed. “Oh!”

Seungmin shook his head, as if waking up from a trance. “Yes?”

Felix grinned, probably with salad or something stuck in his teeth. “Y/n will not be attending this dilatory gathering due to a symptom...of her curse, that makes her quite drowsy at this late hour!”

Chink...! That was the sound of your hope cracking like a broken mirror. That sounded totally rehearsed! The lie was supposed to be that your curse made you tired and you didn’t want to be disturbed. It was perfect, since you knew one of them would insist on butting in to see for themselves, but surely would respect a young lady’s wishes to be left alone…

Though it was hard to see that far, Seungmin appeared to be grinding gears in his mind to make sense of such a suspiciously wordy sentence when, heaven’s to Betsy, the door at the far side opened, and in came a blue-haired shadow. It was the only way you knew how to describe him; he was simply put, like ink off a rain-washed page… “Wassup?!” He announced, swinging out the right-side chair.

Seungmin deadpanned, appearing to squint just slightly. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Ink-boy dropped a handful of rolls onto his plate. “...Like wha— oh!”

He leapt for the door again. Seungmin rolled his eyes (something he seemed to do a lot), dabbing the sides of his mouth before placing the cloth back over his lap. “Yeah. Oh.”

At the far end of the room, Han held both hands raised, as if he were a magician about to reveal a magic trick. “May I present to you, Felix, His Royal Highness, Prince of Everain Palace, Ruler of Finance, Master of Trade, Prosperer of...prospering, President Hwang’s birthright successor of the greatest industry of all time, Hyun— …”

Crickets. 

You couldn’t visibly see it, but you knew it was there: a single drop of sweat that rolled down the side of Han Jisung’s face, as he stood frozen, one hand hovering over the engraved door handle.

“Ha...hahaha…” He did his best to smile. “...Wh-Where’s Y/n?”

Felix bobbed his head, holding up a finger while finishing off a bite of lasagna. “Mm...one second mate…” He dabbed the corners of his mouth like Seungmin had done, taking his time to tuck and fold the elaborate cloth upon his lap. 

Han twitched. Felix surely smiled, taking a painfully slow inhale.

“Y/n will not be attending this dilabitory...dilatory gathering due to a...symptom?...yeah, a symptom of her curse, that makes her quite drowsy at this late hour!”

… …

“She whAT?!?!”

You sighed. While Han had another spastic encounter with the dust-coated floor, Seungmin hollered and tried beating the boy out of it with various hard-mattered foods, the two falling into the same bickering as they had before. Felix continued to happily stuff his face like nothing was bothering him. And you, idly residing in the cold hallway, still had no idea how Jeongin was. Not a word.

Sliding your back down the door, you pursed your lips, lightly smacking two fingers over your wrist; better check yourself before you wreck yourself, just in case.

Fifty-eight...fifty-nine...sixty. Yep, normal.

But the marking on your wrist wasn’t. 

You jumped back, hitting the door and causing the noise outside to dip for a moment before returning to...what was currently normal. You covered your right wrist with the opposite hand. Held your breath. Counted to three.

Removing your fingers, slowly, something sinister stared back at you. Something...elaborate, foreign, but distinguished. Some sort of...strange dome shape, a mark made of...ink, maybe, resembling a chapel window. Or a door, perhaps?  

Upon closer inspection, in the faint light from the other room, it seemed to pulse with...some kind of...energy… … 

...When sunrise comes, and all is lost… Hmm… 

Fwoosh!

You snapped your head back, peering through the sliver of dancing light. The far door ricocheted against its adjacent wall; an ambrosial aroma wafting through the air. The candlelight...illuminated...

...A beastly man with silky black hair.

- ❧ -

You’re pretty sure you heard a noodle slip off the fork wound tightly in Felix’s hand, who nearly dropped it all the same. 

There he was; the man who’d become a monster and nearly murdered Han just hours ago, right before your eyes. The black and red miasma, honed claws, sharp teeth; all of it came flooding back to your mind like a tidal wave. 

The sudden drop in temperature made you long for candle warmth, yet flee farther into the shadows of the empty hall. Seungmin paused with a scone held once proudly and threateningly in the air, now placed delicately on his plate as he nervously slid back into his seat. Han, once choking on a fistful of salad mix, managed to wash it down and did the same, quickly and quietly so after pulling out the beastman’s seat.

Hyunjin sat down with vigor, the legs of his chair scraping harshly to the floor. He made a peculiar face, something like embarrassment albeit just a second, before hiding it behind the fluffing of his napkin and folding it onto his lap. Then he made a fleeting...was that nervous?...glance straight head, to the far opposite end of the table.

The candlelight seemed almost hesitant to cast it’s erratic glow upon the prince’s face. When his eyes met a head of orange hair, he froze, glaring. Hotly. “Where is Y/n?”

“The million dollar question,” Seungmin mumbled. It managed to echo, along with the kick beneath the table and following hiss escaping his lips a moment later. 

Hyunjin snorted, turning his gaze back to Felix. “I said,” he repeated. “Where is Y/n?”

“Yes, I heard you loud and clear, cuz,” Felix replied with an OK sign. “Gimme just a sec...ahem!”

You (silently) banged your head against the solid matter before you. Oh, sweet stars, please no…

“Y/n will not be attending this—”

“She’s not feeling well, Your Grace,” Seungmin interrupted. Phew. “Apparently she’s rather ill as a side effect from whatever curse the Witch gave her. She’s resting in the same guest room upstairs.”

Yes! Now, someone mention Jeongin’s name so you could leave with a clear conscious!

Hyunjin blinked. “Go get her, then.”

… Huh?

Seungmin nearly swallowed wrong, apparently thinking the same thing. “I’m sorry?”

Hyunjin, again, snorted. “I said, go get her. It’s rude to keep everyone waiting, especially royalty.”

Felix, who had long started his meal prior to anyone’s arrival, stopped and hurriedly shoved any evidence under a spare napkin from the empty seat beside him. “Ahaha, yes, right! Waiting…! …” 

He awkwardly wiped his hands clean. Seungmin frowned. “Hyunjin…”He placed his fork down. “She’s sick. Resting. And after today, I don’t blame her for wanting to be left alone right now…” He eyeballed Felix a moment, leaning in with a hushed voice. “Remember, you have more time now...it’s better to be patient. Let her adjust first.” He turned back toward his meal. “I got the hint from Felix’s message, she wants to be left alone. Everyone’s already started eating, anywa—”

“That’s enough!”

The room swiftly grew colder. You shivered, ducking your head even if you technically weren’t present in the dining atmosphere. Oh, greif.

Hyunjin slammed his hands on the table, rocking himself upwards. “If you’re just going to back talk and give me excuses, I’ll get her myself!”

He made his way toward you, crossing the dining room on Han’s side in angry strides towards the vaguely slitted door.

Gasping, you bit your lip hard, frantically searching for a place to hide; but there was nothing. No furniture or randomly placed junk littered the path leading to the great hall. Could you outrun him, maybe? Would it make a sound? How good was his hearing? Did beastmen have the same sensitive hearing capabilities as a wolf, or a fox?

“Pardon me!”

You whirled around, witnessing the brave, possibly last, antics of Felix the Mouse...boy. His whole aura radiated positive, jittering energy, hopping lightly from one foot to the next as he put his old entertainment skills to use, all for your sake.

Hyunjin grunted, having been stopped in his tracks. He glared down heatedly. “What is it? You’re in my way.”

Felix saluted him. “Right on, bro! ...Except, that…”

You held your breath. Put on a good show, Felix. Or, better yet, ask him about Jeongin. That’s all I need to—

“...I need to pee. Mind showing me where the bathroom is?”

… … 

Oh…he just had to...go… 

You deflated like a popped balloon. Of course.

After staring almost incredulously at Felix, like trying to understand his existence, Hyunjin made some sort of irritated noise you assumed all beastmen made, shoved him aside, and continued his striding. 

You made it as far as a few paces from the first available turn before a cold voice stopped you.

“Just where do you think you’re going?”

Urk! … 

...You really should have just looked for Jeongin yourself.

| Ten ❧

“Where’s Jeongin?”

The room had long ago settled into an uncomfortable silence. Bitterly, you shoved a stuffed olive into your mouth, letting the salty tang of the brined fruit coax over your tongue before shivering from the sensation.

You were getting drowsy. But that also could have been from the wine Han insisted on pouring for you, and you being stressed and unsure if an evening around a beastman would be at all possible without the effects of alcohol, accepted.

You were seated across from the beast now, in Felix’s place. The boy being forced to your right...until the effects of whatever had made him a boy again wore off. As of ten minutes ago, he was a rodent yet again, nested happily in the garlic bread basket. You squinted eyes at him over your wine glass.

You totally failed the mission. Be grateful I’m having a hard time staying mad at you. And that you can safely ingest garlic.

“Why do you wish to know?”

Hyunjin’s voice boomed across the grand hall, in no more than a calm rejoinder. How he could speak so lowly and yet fill an entire hall was beyond your drunkenly buzzing comprehension.

“I just want to know,” you simply replied. “Where is he?”

Hyunjin didn’t respond. Instead, Seungmin cleared his throat, excusing himself from the room.

“Wait,” You stood. “Where are you going?”

The boy awkwardly shifted his gaze from you to the door. Hyunjin suddenly stood as well. “Why do you want to know? Why are you asking so many questions?”

“Okay, okay,” Han dabbed at his face, easing the beast back into his seat, and motioning for you to do the same. “Everyone take it easy. Y/n, please excuse Seungmin, he has many responsibilities here. Hyunjin...Your Princeliness,” he corrected, “why don’t you have some more wine? I think we all just need to have a nice long drink and—”

“Be quiet,” Hyunjin ordered, scooting himself in. His shadow didn’t need to be told twice, turning back to his dinner with a small eye roll.

Steadily, with caution, you lowered yourself back into your seat, only able to watch as Seungmin gave a brief bow to you before disappearing behind closed doors. “Please excuse me,” his voice trailed behind him.

Great. He was likely the only one who’d have been bold and honest enough to tell you anything. Now you were stuck with a beast, a shadow, and a mouse that’d fallen asleep in the bread basket.

...Then this happened.

“Ahem,” Hyunjin swallowed a swish of sweet, fermented grape juice. “...T-Tell me about yourself.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I said…” He swallowed again, for no particular reason this time. He kept a staring contest with his steak. “Tell me about yourself. What kind of...stuff do you like?”

“What kind of...stuff?”

A stifled noise came from Han’s lips, as he did his best to hide a smile. He spared you a polite grin before quickly whispering something to Hyunjin, like a lawyer to a client. “...Never mind!” The beastman awkwardly bleated, to which crimson coated his cheeks. He angrily picked at his plate, and the room once again fell into silence.

That was weird. Switching gears, you glanced down to your wrist. The mark from a bit earlier was still there, now lit up beneath the flickering light. Tentatively, you slipped a spare napkin, rubbing at the ink.

It didn’t budge. You tried wetting the cloth with a bit of wine when the others weren’t looking; thankfully, Hyunjin was too...enthralled in his steak, or something, and Han was too busy whispering to him.

The ink didn’t smudge, either. It was as if the markings were a part of your skin.

When sunrise comes, and all is lost… 

“What do you do for fun?”

“Wha?!” Your head shot up, focusing to see all four eyes on you. Han and Hyunjin glaring at you expectantly. You gulped, taking a deep breath to clear your thoughts. You just couldn’t get that old bat’s wacky slogan out of your head… “...What do I do for fun? Is that what you asked?”

Han gave a single nod, encouraging another conversation attempt. You lowered your head, thinking. It couldn’t hurt to participate in mindless chatter. Just until I get the information I want.

“I like...selling things. And making people happy.”

Hyunjin’s eyes grew just a little. “Is...that what you do for a living?”

“Mm-hm.”

Both men were silent. Hyunjin, in particular, looked like he may have been experiencing indigestion of some sort. Then he scowled. “Shouldn’t you be home with your parents? Taking care of them? Doing something more decent?”

You scoffed. What the heck? Where did that come from? “This is how I take care of them. Almost all the proceeds go back to them. What do you mean, more decent?”

Hyunjin had opened his mouth to speak when Han cleared his throat, jumping in on the conversation. “Does your friend work with you? Her name was…”

“Rei.”

“Yes, Rei! You both sell artifacts and collectibles, right?”

“That’s correct.”

Hyunjin blinked. “Oh…” He relaxed, indigestion cleared.

Placing both hands on your lap, you sat up a little straighter. “So where’s Jeongin?”

The beastman’s face resembled one of annoyance and grief. “Why do you keep asking about him?”

“I…” You took another swing of wine, swirling the contents afterward. Watching as your reflection altered. “I’m just curious is all. Is he doing okay?”

Something like...jealousy?...resided among the beast’s brow and set jaw. “He’s fine. Quit asking. I want you to tell me about yourself. Where are you from? How old are you?”

It was at this point that you’d at last had perhaps one too many swigs of sweet relief and numbness, for you placed down your glass after chugging the last bit. One out of...how many refills of this stuff have you had? “Can’t,” you stated, standing. “I got what I came here for. Now I’m leaving.”

“Leaving?”

Hyunjin...the beast, regarded you incredulously. “Yes, leaving…” You giggled. “Leaving. Leeeeeaving… Like leaves blowing in the wind, leaf-ing.” It was a hop, skip, and a jump to the door some ten or whatever paces away. “I know that Jeongin is okay now...er, wait.” You frowned. Turned around. “How do I know you aren’t lying to me?”

A brow was raised. “You think I’m lying? About my Jeongin?” He snorted. “Why do you care so much about him? Do you know him from a past life? Was he your lover? Do you like him now?”

“Hyunjin…” Han muttered, glaring. “Cool it...please.”

“I will not!” He rose to his feet with twice as much vigor as before, chair flying backward. Han eep-ed. “This dinner is supposed to be about you, and me. Why do you keep bringing up my blacksmith? Tell me!”

Because you were already pretty numb (good gravy what was in the wine?), you just laughed at the fact a beast was getting this angry over something so trivial to you. “Why do you care so much? Do beasts always get this angry?” You groaned, like it was all such a bother. “If you really wanna know, he had a nervous breakdown or something and begged me to come to dinner. But he got all weird...like...there were these moving images, and he started vanishing. I could see right through him!” You sighed, making your exit again. “I just wanted to know if he was alright. Turning into air like that can’t be healthy.”

“Absolutely not.”

You chuckled, nearly at the door. “Exactly, that’s what I’m say—”

“NO!”

Boom! Chik!

...You flinched. Gradually, bit by bit, you inched yourself to partially facing the dining hall.

A chunk of the table was missing. A decently-sized, pretty big chunk, torn right off the left corner. Han, on the opposite side but right next to the disaster, was twisted up like one of the noodles that’d been trapped in Felix’s hair, his face ghostly white.

Hyunjin was seething. “You are not going anywhere outside the confinements of these walls. That is an order.”

Han coughed, waving away dust and floating wood chips with minimal effort so as not to draw too much attention. “O-Okay, easy there, Hyunjin…technically…” He smiled. An apologetic one, voice skittishly squeaky. “Technically, you can’t order her to—”

“I’ll do whatever the hell I want!!! This is my manor, my life, my curse!!!”

“That doesn’t give you the right to order me around!” You screamed. “How dare you raise your voice to me! Over something so stupid and absurd!”

His eyes narrowed to slits, head twitching aside. “What did you just say?”

You mirrored his image. “You heard me. Don’t pretend like you didn’t hear. Surely, as a beast, your hearing is as good as a dog. Or a bat. Or some kind of vermin.” Pushing open the door, you whipped your head around. “I said, I’m leaving.”

Hyunjin’s eyes went wide...then nearly vanished behind a curtain of vexed, enraged brows. “You wanna go so badly? Fine! Get out of here! Go to your room!!!”

“Who do you think you are, my father?!”

“Obviously, running amuck from your parents has left you with a lack of discipline.”

Your jaw went slack. “What did you just say?!?”

Hyunjin smirked, a sarcastically snobbish and mocking tone to his voice. “You heard me. Don’t pretend like you didn’t.”

“Uh!” You raved. “Whatever! I’m going to look for Jeongin myself, since I can’t trust that you’d tell me anything sincere. Then, I’m out of here.”

“What does that mean?!”

“It means I can’t trust anything you say, because you’re a monster!!! Then, I’m going home!”

You couldn’t quite see it, but there was a hint of pain in Hyunjin’s eyes, mixed with scars and years of regret. But everything quickly flooded back to anger and bigotry before you could count to three. “...Get back here! You’re not allowed to leave the manor! I forbid you to go anywhere except straight to your room! Do you hear me?!”

“No!”

“Yes!!”

“No!!”

“FINE!!!”

“Fine!!!”

…Slam.

| Eleven ❧

The rain coming down that night was the only thing stopping you from leaving. Not that you were afraid of a little rain by any means; no, not in the slightest. Rather, it was that you weren’t going to kill yourself over a stupid argument just to get away from a beast. You couldn’t risk catching pneumonia or a silly cold and leave Rei to handle taking care of you and the fort. Plus, there was the matter of Felix...you’d be responsible for him as well. You already told him you would.

...All of that, and it was raining pretty hard.

So here you sat, out in an old web-infested barn, slack atop a stack of hay a few feet away from the open barn doors, just watching the rain fall. Praying it would let up so you could escape. Praying no one would find you here, out in some shabby old building behind the kitchen. And what a nightmare that had been, by the way.

From your left shoulder, Felix did a nervous little jig, spinning in circles twice before bridging across your back to the other side. “Y/n…I don’t know what happened, cause that cheese and wine got me pretty good, but…” He heaved a small mouse-sigh. “...Do you think you maybe overreacted? You don’t seem like a person who gets worked up so easily.”

You scoffed. Wasn’t that right. “Yeah...you’re right. I’m not.”

“Then what happened?”

“......” It took you a moment to gather your thoughts. What did happen? Why did I get so worked up like that? Sure, there was the alcohol. That definitely had an effect. But it wasn’t everything, because now that it was wearing down, now that your mind was clearing and you’d had some time to settle down, to breathe in solitude, you...knew it was something more. There was truth in the midst of all that anger.

Felix was waiting for an answer. So were you.

“I—”

Chunk! “Y/n!!!”

You took a startled breath, turning toward an old door you could have sworn was sealed shut. “Jeongin…?”

It was Jeongin. The red-haired reason you’d decided to stick things out, albeit a little longer. The boy greeted you with flushed cheeks and a lazy smile; he still didn’t look all that well. “Y-Yeah...I came because I heard...you…”

He hunched over, out of breath. The face of another appeared behind him. “Jeongin! I told you to slow down, you’re in no condition to be running around like…” He stopped, blinking into the darkness. “Y/n? Why are you here?”

Brown hair, matching eyes. Mr. Excuse-Me-From-This-Horrifically-Awkward-Dinner. You just smiled, lazily in response. “Hello, Seungmin.”

The young...caretaker nodded, acknowledging you before being swatted away by his patient. A flash of vacancy lit up the night sky as you turned the opposite away, facing the other two in a triangle. Jeongin hustled to shut the barn doors despite Seungmin’s protests, and pretty soon the three...four of you, with Felix taking a nosedive for the hay, sat in awkward silence.

It was almost an encore of dinner not but twenty or thirty minutes ago, though not as worse. It was obvious the two of them wanted to say something, but neither wanted to be the first to speak. Finally, after twenty-odd seconds of nose scratches, unnecessary shifting, and forced coughs, the only employee with a braincell sat up a little straighter.

“Listen,” Seungmin began, using his hands to speak. “About Hyunjin—”

The beast. No thank you. You swatted your hands before you. “I do not want nor need to have another conversation about that ill-mannered buffoon.”

“...I’m pretty sure this is the first one.”

“Second,” Jeongin inquired. “...Right?”

“I’m not counting the first encounter,” Seungmin...countered. “Those never count.”

Jeongin nodded. “Yeah, I can see why—”

“Enough!” You yelled. “...It doesn’t matter if this is the first or second or even the tenth time. I can tell you one thing, it’s definitely the last.”

Seungmin gave you a pitying look. “We all have to walk on eggshells around him.” His voice sounded pleading, borderline apologetic, and all-over exhausted. “...It gets rough, I know. I understand he’s not the easiest person to get along with. He’s very different and outcast and behind the times. But if you could just hear me out for—”

“Hear us out,” Jeongin corrected. He gave you the cutest, saddest smile a boy of his caliber could possibly manage. It made your heart melt; it didn’t help that he was still ill to boot. “I heard what you did for me, Y/n. I really appreciate your concern. No one has ever stayed, especially when one of us...has an...episode.” 

His gaze grew sad and distant. You could feel your heart sizzling in a pool of pity. “...This has happened...before?” you whispered.

Jeongin nodded, Seungmin averting his eyes. “...Yeah.” He said. “Twice to Jeongin, three times to Han, Hyunjin too many to count...and uh…” He scratched his cheek, holding up an index finger. Eyes peeking shyly under the hood of neatly-groomed bangs. “...Once I may have...had a bad day.”

“Wow…” Felix mumbled, head sticking out of the hay barrel. The boy looked like a stray whack-a-mole project. “That sounds rough. Been there done that.”

You rolled your eyes, shoving him down with two fingers. He let out a muffled squeak on the way down. “So…” ...You sighed. “...What is it that you wanted to say, then? This is the last time I’m listening. I only went to that banquet to make sure Jeongin was okay.” Another crack of lighting pierced the sky, followed by the ominous rumbling of thunder. “You have maybe ten minutes, since the storm isn’t letting up anytime soon. But after that, I’d like to be left alone in peace until I can leave this joint. Go.”

Seungmin nearly beamed nonexistent sunshine. “That’s plenty of time.”

“Get to the basics. Just the essentials.”

“The company fell under a long time ago.”

“I’m sorry?”

He huffed, running a hand through his hair while Jeongin glanced nervously at the door. “The company, this place. The first thing you need to know about Hyunjin is that he wasn’t always this way. And I’m not just talking about the curse. He’s the son of a wealthy businessman; this is his estate. He owns the whole town...or at least, he did.” His eyes scanned the walls and dusty interior, as if checking to see if someone else was watching. As if taking in the entirety of the estate. “...Now it belongs to Hyunjin. Everything.”

You crossed your arms. “I could have put that together myself. He’s obviously a rich, spoiled brat.”

“There’s more. The people that know him personally know him for who he really is.”

You huffed. Unbelievable, really. “And what would that be?” You pressed. “A monster?”

A bitter silence flushed the room. You instantly felt a pang of resentment at that remark. Perhaps...again, that was a bit too harsh. 

“...I’m sorry.” Your arms laid in surrender across your lap. “Please continue.”

“......” Seungmin glanced to his left. “You wanna pick up from here?”

He leaned back, Jeongin lifting himself to take the lead. “...Hyunjin is a pain in the ass. He’s a pain in the morning, we basically play rock paper scissors to see who has the unfortunate task of waking him up and handling his breakfast, and to decide who’s turn it is to do laundry and lunch we place bets on when he’ll randomly combust in a daily rage or which book he’ll throw across the room first.” He counted on his fingers, listing them off one by one. “For dinner and his bath we usually draw straws or play an old board game, but Han often cheats, so…”

...His voice trailed off, eyes intently examining his mental checklist. You frowned. “...What does any of this have to do with…” Shook your head. “What are you saying again?”

He smiled sheepishly. “I’m sorry,” he bowed. Cute. “What I meant to say was that deep down Hyunjin is actually a very kind person, but...I just ended up making him sound like an overly-dependent...man...child.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, twirling a piece of hay around your finger. “Well he sure does seem like it. His manners at the dinner table were atrocious and incredibly beast-like.”

“But you don’t know him like we do,” Seungmin insisted...then smiled, apologetically so, sitting up straight again. “...Forgive me. But what we’re trying to say is, Hyunjin is really a nice guy, he’s just...stuck. You definitely didn’t help with that daily ledger,” he scolded beside him. Jeongin bowed again.

“Well, sorry, I was just trying to—”

“Stuck?”

That lone word rang out like a gunshot. Seungmin and Jeongin both turned to you with sour eyes, the former swallowing a bit uncomfortably. “...Yes, stuck.”

“In what? Time? Space? Adolescence?” You tilted your head. “Because he never learned to grow up?”

“Exactly! ...Sort of.”

You glanced down to the hay-riddled fabric adorning your lap. It’d never really occurred to you to analyze or care anything for Hyunjin’s personal life, mostly because you weren’t planning on staying and the moment you saw him transform, you didn’t want to know. Your instincts told you to run, to flee, to flood your system with a coping-mechanism gene and forget and ignore what you just saw. You wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but you were scared...and who in their right mind wouldn’t be?

...But hearing this now...even given the smallest sliver of insight…

...Well, your mother had often scolded you for being nosy. “So you’re saying he never learned how to...grow up.”

Both boys nodded. “That definitely can be said.”

“And so, that’s why he acts out.” You looked around, questions popping up about the hedge maze in your mind from every direction. “How long has he been alone here? Where are his parents? …How old is he?” Your eyes focused on Seungmin. “What happened to him, exactly?”

“......” Seungmin and Jeongin shared a look. It all but drove you crazy how long it took one of them to answer. “...Do you have longer than ten minutes?”

| Twelve ❧

“Hyunjin was born to a wealthy mother and a poor, impoverished father in the year XXXX. No one knows where or how they met; Hyunjin is very selective and quiet on the matter. However, documents of his mother’s family buried in one of many attics claim they met at some time around the Summer harvest festival, an annual event that used to take place here in New Amber.

“It was the responsibility of noble families to uphold the annual harvest ceremony at the start of the season. As a part of tradition, many noble families and a few middle class families with connections to noblemen and their wives would use this great gathering to announce engagements and arranged marriages, in order to shift the power to new families and invite a sense of balance to the community. Hyunjin’s mother was reportedly sixteen years old at her time of arranged marriage, to the wealthiest family in New Amber next to the king; a family called the Song’s.

“The Song family oversought all affairs in the king’s absence; which he was absent a lot, given his aloof nature and uncaring attitude towards politics. The Song family basically ruled the city with an iron fist; many offers came to them from pushy mothers or greedy fathers who wished for their sons and daughters to tie a knot to the family name, connecting a chain to their own. A man by the name of Yun Jeongsun, Hyunjin’s grandfather, was one such parent. He weaseled his way into the Song’s good graces, and they offered their youngest son to be wed.

“Hyunjin’s mother, Yun Haerin, was against the marriage from the start. She had no interest in marriage, and instead wanted to craft her own trade to be of use to society. She wished to work alongside the Song family, rather than become one herself. As you can imagine, this angered many people; not only did it go against protocol at the time, but refusing an offer from the ruling family was considered a huge offense. And the Song family took it that way.

“As she was packing to leave the city one night— as she’d decided to melodramatically run away from her problems— she was met with Hyunjin’s father, a dirt-scratcher named Hwang Jihoon. The Hwang family had fallen on hard times ten years prior when their oil company snagged a few false investments, and the company went bankrupt and fell under. Having learned to fend for himself and adapt to life on the streets, Hwang Jihoon saved Yun Haerin from some typical back alley bandits, and finding her fancy offered to escort her to her new life outside of town.

“As you can probably guess, the two fell in love during their travels, and settled for a simple life outside of New Amber. However...Hwang Jihoon wanted more for his family. 

“No one in the Hwang family ever forgot or gave up resenting the hardships they faced. And no one especially more than eldest son Jihoon. To summarize and keep this short...Hwang Jihoon became a tyrant. He used Haerin’s maiden name to forge a new path for the Hwang’s, and eventually, the nameless city they had escaped to fell flat. It couldn’t withstand the intense amount of economic tyranny and inflation. The taxation without representation. Hwang Jihoon had swindled his family to the top and drained the entire community dry.

“So they went back to New Amber. For stability. For revenge. Now having the security and stability he needed, which he stole from others, the Hwang family came back with an iron fist of their own. Due to a current drought and a bad economic year, not to mention the king up and abandoning his people, not even the Song family could stand up to them. And promising a new resurrection of New Amber, Hwang Jihoon took the throne.

“He crowned himself King of New Amber and tore half the city apart drilling for oil. As luck would have it, the community had been sitting atop a natural oil reserve that flooded the country back into promising times. Things were actually quite peaceful for the first five years...until they ran out of oil. Taking the snag in stride, however, Jihoon used his deceit and backhanded tactics to manipulate the economy, trading and stealing from other cities. Because he was so crafty, no one caught on until it was too late.

“Hyunjin had been born just a year before. Upon his birth, Haerin and Jihoon began having marital problems, according to a diary entry by Haerin. In it she claims to have regretted her choice in marrying Jihoon, and that she’d fallen out of love with him. She claims that his only interest was power and revenge, tearing down the social hierarchy to make everyone pay— and the unfortunate effects it was having on everyone. 

“In her last entry, Haerin claimed to fear for her life. She wrote that Jihoon had violently threatened to forfeit her life if it meant continuing his reign. She was never seen or heard from after that…”

...Seungmin’s voice grew faint for a while. Tension in the air rose higher, the thickness suffocating.

You couldn’t believe such a tragic and long-rich history had occurred in such a wasteland. It obviously had fallen eventually, but…

You needed to hear more. “...So he killed her? Then what happened?”

Seungmin nodded, slowly. “It likely wasn’t him. Due to his constant appearance in the public eye, it’s more probable to say he hired someone to do the job.”

You shivered. How awful. 

As Jeongin fished out and dusted off an old blanket for you, his light coughs echoing around the barn, Seungmin continued. “With Haerin gone and the Yun family name no longer needed, Jihoon continued to thrive and plunge the city to new heights— and a harder fall. He manipulated the economy to continue spinning in his favor; meanwhile, as years flew by and he became older, he began having thoughts of the future, and who would succeed in his place. Because he was a man with no trust in anyone but himself, he summoned his only son— Hwang Hyunjin— to be molded in lessons of business and trade. How to lie, cheat, and steal.

“Supposedly the brainwashing began around the age of nine. Hyunjin had been a clueless child sent away to be cared for by a few nuns from the community in a remote location before; he’d grown up without any friends, never knowing the love of a mother or father. Only the required care provided by the Sisters of the Church. However, that does not mean he was never unhappy; the sisters did a fine job of raising him, and they truly did grow to love Hyunjin as their own.

“Of course that all changed when he was taken back to the palace. From then on Hyunjin spent his days locked away in the estate’s highest tower, like a prince out of a fairytale; forced into the education of topics he could scarcely fathom. Another maid who kept a journal of her own reported the occasional, almost frequent scream coming from the prince’s tower. She noted them as punishments for incorrect responses and behavior.

“Hyunjin was fourteen when his father died. Five years of torture and humiliation, along with a healthy dose of effective brainwashing, formed him into an angry and bitter soul. Originally, he wanted nothing to do with his father’s company. He wanted nothing to do with the position of king; but being outnumbered and powerless against the force of countless impoverished civilians forced him to make changes. 

“...I did the best I could to help him. As an advisor in training to Jihoon, I truly did what I could. Honestly, seeing him that one day...the day of his coronation...it fascinated me. There, I thought. Up there on the highest balcony. That’s the boy rumored to be the source of the screaming at night. That’s the boy who is Jihoon’s only son. His flesh and blood. The son of the late Haerin, a lasting survivor of the Yun legacy.”

Seungmin took a deep breath here, sighing out into the open space between you. Watching him flashback nearly took your breath away.

“...And so it came to be that Hwang Hyunjin took the downfall of his father’s handiwork. The moment he sat down at the throne, all the lies his father weaved came unraveled. All the shortcuts and manipulation tactics came back to haunt him. All the stolen time and resources were forced to be paid back in full. Hyunjin could hardly bear the weight of it all; the toll was almost too great. Many people saw him as cursed, and up and fled the palace to be with their families in poverty. But they hadn’t seen anything yet...”

“So…” You hesitantly reached a hand forward, then flinched, retracting it. “...I’m sorry to interrupt. But how did he...um…”

Seungmin gave a bitter half-smile, nodding. “Yeah. I’m almost there.

“One night at the head of a harsh Winter, an old woman showed up seeking shelter. Hyunjin was out stalking the palace halls lamenting his position, and upon answering, turned her away.”

Your eyes widened. “She was...the Witch of the Biome. Er, whatever her name is…”

Seungmin nodded. “Yes, that’s right. The Witch revealed herself to Hyunjin, and put a curse upon all who were present within these walls. At the time that was...well, there were a few others, but before you ask about them...they’re gone now.”

You listed your head a moment before realizing what he meant. “...O-Oh...I’m so...sorry…”

The advisor shrugged. “It was a while ago. There was nothing we could do about it. It was their choice…”

Sniffling filled your ear from down below. You bowed your head to find Felix with tears in his eyes, turning to you in need of comfort. Gently, you lifted him onto one leg, hovering cupped hands around him. “And then?”

“Then...well…” He gestured around him. “Here we are today. After the people saw what he had become, families and villagers left, some in hoards, others more sparingly. But eventually the whole city was left to erosion. Hyunjin couldn’t hide his curse forever; and neither could we.” 

He stood suddenly, dusting stands of hay and a few piles of dust from the atmosphere away from him. Outside, the sounds of clarity of nightfall graced your ears.

“So now you know. This is Hyunjin’s story...and our own.”

“So then, why am I here?”

This question seemed to catch Jeongin by surprise; but Seungmin smiled as if anticipating the notion. “The Witch tends to spout riddles about how her curses can be broken; it’s like some weird tick or bad habit while she’s casting them. Or maybe it’s just the incantation itself; no one really knows. However…” He scratched his cheek, looking to Jeongin for confirmation. The red-head nodded. “We were hoping you would be the one to break the curse. You see, the incantation, according to Hyunjin, went something like this:

“Lips to lips and mouth to mouth Calls the speaker of the shrouds Summon forth your courage and might In order to love and end within night But yet if still ye cannot fathom Ending here the chilling anthem Suffer still and face your demise For all the passing days of sunrise.”

The smallest gasp escaped your lips. Sunrise...sunrise. When sunrise comes, and all is lost...

“...Hyunjin sort of lost his way after the curse was cast. Well...no. He’d lost his way a long time ago. I guess what I’m trying to say is, he never found his way to begin with. So he really lost it after the curse hit, and he was forced back into hiding. He didn’t know what to do with himself. Everything was so...messed up. It was just a mess. His whole life had been a dark, night-infested wasteland...much like this town, almost...and then it was like someone came and dropped a hedge maze over it. He didn’t know where to go or what to do. He was already lost. So he just...screamed. And cracked. He broke, like many of the mirrors you’ll find around here. Covering it up with a delusional fantasy. That’s why he acts the way he does; sort of like he’s just existing, and nothing is really wrong. Inside...it’s chaos inside his mind. Just an ill-chosen coping mechanism to disguise the front of war. So, Y/n…”

You flinched at the mention of your name, sitting up straighter. Seungmin looked down upon you with an intense fire.

“Now that you know the story, what will you do? I didn’t tell you all this to guilt you into staying, so I hope you don’t feel that way. Nor did I tell it to scare you. You have nothing to fear but fear itself; something we’ve been trying to teach Hyunjin for a long time…” He sighed.

You glanced around the worn-down barn. At the empty hay barrels, the decaying wood structures, the various puddles of rain seeping in. What were you going to do? It was a tough decision to make...and a lot of information to process.

Your eyes traveled down to the lone marking on your wrist, now appearing to have settled into something bolder. It was definitely a petal, or an ambrosial symbol of some sort. The Mark of the Rose… 

You swallowed hard. It would seem your destiny had led you here. Even if it was a sudden destiny, a fate you never asked for. If you were going to get your old life back, well, it looked like you were going to have to take a detour. “I think...I’m going to do what I have to.”

At the other side of the barn, Seungmin blinked, remaining ever calm and collected since the moment you first met him. Jeongin, on the other hand, bore his eyes into you as if waiting to hear the climax of the story. “And what’s that?” Seungmin asked.

You stood, placing Felix on your shoulder. “You’ll see. Just watch me.”

| End Act One ❧

ღ Stray Kids M.List | M.List ღ

 .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。 .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

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[batneko]

Hearth and Home, part 3.1

I can’t wait to finish this chapter before posting so here’s the first half

contains: Mumarou but they’re dealing with some stuff

[previous]

The visit to the art god’s cove weighed on Garou’s mind for days. Not just because Amai had apparently decided that agreeing on one thing meant he was allowed to bug Garou at any time, but a lot of the things he’d said were new to Garou. Like that he might have a second domain. That he’d been feeling anxious because he was responsible for something he hadn’t realized yet.

And, on the way out, he’d mentioned that Garou would be welcome back in his demesne any time. Which raised the question of whether or not Garou could keep people out.

He hadn’t bothered, so far. Nobody but Bado and Bang had come calling, and only while Garou was already home during the daytime. Was it possible somebody could just waltz in and wait around for him?

Could Mumen?

“It depends on you,” Bang told him when he asked. Like Amai, he'd picked up on Garou's blindness without being told. Unlike Amai, he had the decency to pretend he hadn't until Garou said something. But Garou noticed the moves he used in training had changed, and he'd started teaching Garou new techniques relying on sound and feel.

“How d'you mean?” Garou asked.

“Exactly what I say.” There was a smile beneath his bushy mustache. “It depends on temperament. I run a school, my borders are open unless I choose to close them. I can choose to do so for anyone other than students, or ban only certain people, or require someone to ask first. But unless I make a conscious choice, my demesne is open to all.”

“I don't want that. This is my place!”

“Then it isn't so.”

Garou sighed, loud enough that it disturbed some of the small songbirds nesting nearby. “How am I supposed to know this stuff? It's not like it comes natural.”

“You could always ask the other new gods.”

“I don't think Saitama actually knows any of this either. And...” He couldn't talk to Mumen. Not yet. “And Mizuki's busy.”

"No one will-" Bang hesitated. "Very few gods will hold it against you if you're not up to speed right away."

"It's already been a month," Garou said. "For humans that's a long time."

"You'll get used to that too," Bang said.

The thought of eternity was scary enough that Garou let it drop.

Piloting the moon was still a weird experience, even though he did it every night. He stood in a carriage for twelve hours at a time but he didn't get tired, or bored, or hungry. He was made for this, now. Reborn to do it.

It was hard to be bored when Garou could see everything beneath him in perfect clarity. He hated to admit it, but he understood a little better why Mumen had watched him that day. The kinds of things people got up to under the cover of darkness were… Well… sheep theft was the least of it.

He could hear a lot of it too, which seemed stranger than seeing, for some reason. Kids voices always came through no problem, maybe because of the higher pitch (curse Amai's music lessons), but he'd hear snippets of conversations or people whistling to themselves.

It died out as the night progressed and most mortals went to sleep, but there were always a few. Working late, or on guard duty, or stealing from the people on guard duty.

And if there were absolutely no humans to watch over, there were plenty of animals. The night was alive and thriving.

It was late when Garou heard it. He was thinking about Mumen, as – unfortunately – he usually was, and the moon was currently passing over a small thicket just outside the last village. Too late for a child to be out. Too late for most adults who didn't have a job to do.

But it was definitely a child's voice, whimpering, and he heard a sob-choked plea of, "Please, somebody…"

He didn't think. There was no time for thought. He couldn't leave the chariot but surely someone-

"Mumen!" Garou exclaimed, and to his absolute shock the chariot suddenly got crowded.

"What?" Mumen said, sounding as baffled as Garou felt. His hands grabbed onto Garou's hips automatically, but there was something odd, something pressing against Garou's lower back. "Garou? What am I- What's going on?"

"No time," Garou decided. He moved to one side and shoved the reins into Mumen's hands, the leather strap clinking against the chain. "Just drive."

And then he rolled over the side and dropped down to earth.

***

Tareo was not in the habit of staying up late. He got tired, for one thing, and anyway it was scary outside after the sun went down. It was so dark, and there were noises, and you never knew what was behind you…

But things had changed, a little, about a month ago. The moon came back. At least, the adults said it had "come back," Tareo had never seen anything like it. It hung in the same place as the sun, but it didn't hurt to look at. And it changed shape every night, just a little bit, but if you forgot to look for a couple days it would be completely different.

Last week it was gone again, and Tareo worried, but his mom said this was normal and it would be back tomorrow. But Tareo noticed her sigh of relief when she turned out to be correct.

Then, tonight. Well, today, because it had still been daylight when the older boys chased him out of town. It wasn't a big deal, it wasn't the first time, but they didn't give up. And one of them had a rock. So Tareo kept running and hiding and running… and now he was hiding and lost.

And tired. And cold. And scared. And okay, he cried a little. If he could just find somebody going back toward the road, he could get home from there. It wasn't that dark. Not compared to how it used to be.

In fact, the silvery moonlight seemed a lot brighter all of a sudden. Tareo peeked out through the branches of the bush he'd hidden under to check if the clouds had moved or something, and saw a man standing not far away, lit up as though the moon were shining straight down on him.

The man turned toward him. He didn't look that old, and he dressed like the young men in the city, but his hair was all gray.

Tareo shrunk back as the man started walking toward him. He crouched down just at the edge of the bushes, moonlight glinting off the metal crescent he wore on his forehead.

“Hey,” the man said. “You okay?”

Tareo sniffled. There was no point hiding. No way this guy was with the boys who'd chased him.

“Yes,” he said, crawling out under the thicker branches.

The man frowned, offered Tareo a hand up, and dusted him off once he stood. “Not hurt?”

“Not really.” Just scratched up. It could be worse.

“My name's Garou,” the man said.

“I'm Tareo.” A moment after he said it he remembered he shouldn't tell strangers his name, but... he trusted this man. He looked worried, and he wasn't asking any weird questions. All Tareo needed was to find the road, surely it was okay to trust somebody that far?

“You want company getting home, Tareo?” Garou asked.

“I'm okay,” Tareo said, shrinking back a little. “I can find it from the road.”

“To the road, then,” Garou said. He offered his hand, and Tareo took it.

It just... felt right, to trust him. The way he looked at Tareo felt like when his family looked at him.

“Thanks, uncle,” Tareo said.

Garou's face twitched. “I'm nineteen.”

“Uncles can be nineteen.”

Garou's mouth opened, his expression froze, and then he closed it again. As they started walking, he said, “Whatever.”

Tareo giggled.

They talked on the way. Garou about the animals they were passing (he must have really good nightvision), Tareo about his dog and cat, and then his family, and then his friends, and then the boys that had chased him... And then he was crying again, but Garou patted his shoulder and ripped off a piece of his scarf for Tareo to use as a handkerchief.

“Is it okay?” Tareo asked.

“Sure. I can make another one.”

“You knit, uncle?”

“No,” Garou said, and Tareo frowned at him but he didn't say any more.

Somehow they'd kept walking when they got to the road. Probably Garou was going back to town too, so it only made sense. As long as he didn't try to take Tareo somewhere other than home it was okay.

They were still a few streets away when Tareo heard his mom cry out his name and winced. Garou dropped his hand and stepped to the side, seconds before Tareo's mom had him in her arms.

“Are you okay? We've been looking for hours! What happened? Why would you- You're all scratched up! What happened?”

“Some bigger kids chased him out of town,” Garou said. “One of them threatened him with a rock. What was he supposed to do?”

That's funny... had Tareo told him that part?

“Oh, my baby,” Tareo's mom cupped his cheeks. “I'm so sorry. But I'm so so glad you're okay.”

She hugged him again, squeezing him so tight he could hardly get a breath. Or maybe that was because he was crying again.

“Thank you,” he heard her say.

“S'nothing,” Garou replied. “I couldn't not help.”

“All the same, I really appreciate it. And in the middle of the night too. Anything might have happened if you weren't there.”

“I dunno about that,” Garou said. “It's pretty safe around here. But... I'm gonna make it safer for kids like him, from now on.”

Tareo wriggled around, so he could look back.

“What do you mean?” his mom asked.

“Honey?” Now Tareo's step-dad was here too. “Tareo! Are you okay?”

“Yeff,” he said, his face still squished against his mom's shoulder.

“Who are you?” Tareo's mom asked, still looking at Garou.

Tareo looked up at him too, in time to see Garou smile and point straight up.

All three of them followed the gesture, seeing only the crescent moon in the middle of a field of stars.

When they looked back down, Garou was gone.

***

Garou hopped back over the edge of the chariot, glad to see Mumen was still in position and holding the reins in both hands.

“Garou!” he exclaimed, barely twitching in surprise. He glanced back over his shoulder and gave him a brief smile before fixing his eyes on the starlit path ahead.

“I think that went well!” Garou said. “Better'n I could have done, for my first try.”

“You looked good from up here!” Mumen's shoulders stiffened. “I mean... it seems like you helped that boy. And the family was grateful.”

“Ah, I don't mind about that.” Garou leaned over the edge and peered down. Tareo and his parents were walking home, Tareo held in his father's (no, step-father, but he loved the boy unconditionally. And how did Garou know that?) arms. They spoke softly, awed, but Garou could still hear Tareo's voice clearly.

“I think he's the moon,” the boy said, and looked up. Garou resisted the urge to wave. He wouldn't have seen it anyway. He added, “Nobody's gonna believe this tomorrow.”

They would if Garou kept doing things like this. And he would. He couldn't not.

“It's kids,” Garou said, smiling. “I'm the patron god of children.”

“That's perfect for you,” Mumen said. “Someone as kind as you. I don't know why there wasn't one before.”

“Maybe there was, and they got killed,” Garou said.

He put his hands on Mumen's hips, and leaned his head on his shoulder.

“This okay?” he said.

“Yes!” Mumen exclaimed, too quickly, too loud. Garou chuckled into his shirt. “I- is it okay with you? I thought... you'd still be...”

“Oh, I am,” Garou said. “Right now I feel too good to care. Kids! I can help them! I can- I-”

He couldn't bring himself to say it out loud, but he wouldn't be surprised if Mumen knew what he meant.

Garou could make sure no kid went through what he had ever again.

“You're going to be great,” Mumen said.

“I'm gonna have to expand my house is what I'm gonna do. Or at least turn all my temples into foster homes. I don't think I can manage a compound like Amai does.” Garou sighed. “Once I have temples. Most of 'em got torn down ages ago. And I'm still not getting prayers. I-”

He stopped.

A little voice was reaching his ears. Not the same as when he heard it from below, this was like a child was speaking right in front of him.

“Dear, um, Mr. Moon God. If that was really you? Thank you for getting me home. Okay. Goodnight.”

He laughed, and straightened up. “Nevermind, I got this. It might take a while, but once all these kids grow up they'll remember me.”

Mumen smiled again. It was still so odd seeing his face and trying to attach it to what he remembered. A voice and a shape. Hands.

Hands. There was something odd there. Garou stared at them over Mumen's shoulder, his blunt fingers holding the leather reins, metal cuffs clamped around his wrists...

And a heavy chain linking them.

“Mumen?” Garou said, slowly. “Why are you wearing manacles?”

Mumen's smile turned sheepish. “I'm a thief.”

[next]

#myth au #batfics #greek myth au #one punch man #opm #mumen/garou #mumarou #mumen rider #garou #licenseless rider #mumen x garou #tareo #bang

[where-is-my-beheading-ceremony]

The Hidden Truth (re-written), chapter 2

https://www.wattpad.com/857432630-the-hidden-truth-re-written-one-sided-convo

“One sided convo”

 (We shall not talk about the fact I posted this 5 months later)

After some time of running, Jestro ended up being the one who was dragging Roberto now, mostly because the Italian was almost completely out of breath. Jestro could use some time to catch his own too, but he was a much better runner than the short Italian with the only long thing being his overgrown mustache. "Jestro...let's stop for a second...I can't..." Roberto broke away from the other and stopped, almost flopping onto the ground while he breathed heavily. Jestro stopped a few feet away from Roberto and looked back at the other, placing his hands on his own knees as he bent over and panted, his eyes never leaving his friend.

"Maybe you're right...we should decide where to go further. There aren't any abandoned villages that I know of nearby. All of them are much further from the capital" the jester finally managed to stand up straight and looked around "You had that small house back in the wasteland....right?" He didn't even notice how Roberto looked up at him with hopeful eyes and the two just continued to stand there for a while till the shorter man finally spoke up "You remember that? I'm...surprised. At first you could barely tell who I was. That cloud really hit you in the head good, didn't it? I think it's best if you don't get exposed to any more magic. As far as I've seen, the more exposed to it you are, the more...of a mess you become?" The Italian speculated which immediately brought Jestro's attention "What do you mean 'the more of a mess I become?' I was always a mess and I think you're fully aware of that. That's why things never, ever go my way even when I'm doing something like fight the knights. With a whole army I was able to win what? Like one battle and I don't even remember why we won" his hat twitched a little and Jestro glanced over Roberto's shoulder for a few seconds "What I meant was that the magic that corrupted you, twice apparently, was still stuck in your body till you used it all up. What if you're once more exposed to magic and it doesn't leave your body anymore? What affect will it have on you this time??? Just thinking about it worries me-" Roberto had more to say, more to speculate. After all he had a lot of time to just...think when he was in the dungeon, but the sudden alarm on Jestro's face worried him even more "Did you hear that? This low buzzing...is that a sound of an...engine... It's an engine! I didn't think about the knights at all!" he grabbed Roberto by the shoulders and leaned down to their level "Let's scatter so at least we have a bigger chance of running away...well at least you have a better chance to escape. We'll run into each other, I'm sure of it, we're buddies, right?"  the jester spoke quickly and Roberto could only stare at them with a bit of disbelief "You....but won't it better if we go together? You know this forest and we could-" Roberto didn't get the chance to finish when Jestro got so alarmed by the engine sounds getting closer that he shoved the Italian into some bushes "hide or run, idiot!" he rose his voice and then took off into a run. Seconds pass and one of the vehicles stop by the bush Roberto was shoved in, A man in yellow armor hopping out to check the bushes but he was gone already so the knight went back into his vehicle to catch up to the rest Jestro  tried to run as quick as he could, but it was all in vain when he was chased down by such highly advanced vehicles that soon enough, caught up to him and surrounded him, blocking most of his path while the knights that so quickly existed them blocked all of the exists he could possibly have. Weapons were pointed at the exhausted jester, shields were held out in front of the figures that stood around him for protection, the quiet suddenly seemed so loud.  Jestro frantically looked around, feeling himself shrink underneath the knights that were right there. Even the blue knight made Jestro feel anxious with their weapon pointed to him until they lowered it "Jestro, stand down, we've got you surrounded, there's no hope for you to escape. Put your hands out and we'll return you to where you're supposed to be without any consequences" The blue knight spoke like he was in command with that powerful tone of voice as always, Jestro couldn't bring himself to cower from it though. He still wanted to escape, he already lived his life without hope, he can escape, he was sure of it. Jestro looked at all of the knights one by one to figure out his best escape "I...." his eyes fixated on Lance and narrowed a little and the white knights only rose his shield a bit higher, partially anxious too about what the jester was going to do "I say, I have nothing to lose so screw Knighton and I'm getting out of here" he took a running start towards Lance and as expected, the knight held his Lance right out in front of him "hey, ey, ey! What are you doing?" Lance questioned, giving Jestro the opportunity to jump on it and kick Lance in the face (good thing they were wearing a helmet), making blondie fall back and Jestro boost himself behind the vehicles.

Jestro was honestly impressed with himself for managing that stunt, but all of that pride disappeared when the knights began running for him while Lance regained his composure and got up. Jestro took a running start too when  the knights made it past their vehicles. It was quite surprising how quick the jester was on their feet and even if he stumbled a few times on the large roots that were nearly everywhere, he didn't plan on stopping any time soon. Seems like the knights didn't have that in mind either. The chase continued for a bit and only then were weapons involved. Aaron tried his best to shoot a few arrows that wouldn't do anything more than stun Jestro. Yet Jestro dodged and ducked all of the times, even stumbling to his knees helped him avoid an arrow.

Clay narrowed his eyes as he chased his once close friend through the forest, Aaron insiting that he could use his shield and get in front of Jestro, manage to have a clear shot at him. How did things get so out of hand?... Where did it all began? Jestro joining the academy? Him never finding anything he could do well? The Book?....The book, that damned book of Monstrox that for some reason Merlock thought would be best to just leave openly in the library corner. Did the wizard never think about the dangers of a power outage like the one Jestro caused on their graduation day? Sometimes Merlock was as wise as he was childish, Clay found it hard to think about them the same way after he found out that they're related, very related.  But this is all besides the point, now he has to capture the same jester he spent all of his childhood with, the same one he tried to officially let out of the dungeon, seems like Jestro didn't think anyone would've ever tried to let them out. The hours he spent on talking to the authorities seemed more than useless now, after this, it's going to be hard to defend them.

Aaron had already taken off to the front seeing as Jestro stopped dead in his tracks when the crossbow was pointed straight at him. This was it for the jokester and by the arrows he saw the archer knight shoot, they didn't seem like simple stun ones, hell one left a tiny hole in his hat, his hat, his most important possesion he had left. Jestro looked at the archer with wide eyes, his hands shaking from the adrenaline mixed with fear and a bundle of other emotions. All he could do is back away slowly, slowly...into a tree? A shield? No, he backed up right into Clay, who put their hand onto his shoulder to hold him in place for now. "Jestro, come on, you know he's not going to harm you, none of us want that. Let's calm down, talk about it on our way back, okay? I want to hear you out, they never gave you the chance to speak." The blue knight spoke and Jestro, he never felt so relieved and panicked at the same time. He really didn't want to deal with this, he didn't want to go back to that place after he was so willing to let go of it completely, abandon every memory he made in this whole Kingdom. "I don't want to. I don't want to go back there." Jestro answered back simply, still pressed against the knight who's grip was thankfully light, but enough to catch Jestro if they try anything. That didn't stop him though and so Jestro tried to slip out of Clay's hold, of course expecting them to not let go willingly so he trashed around as the other knights just watched Jestro's hopeless attempts "You're all idiots! Who are you trying to prove?! With how you belittled me all the time, how could you even graduate with those grins on your face? Hah, knights my ass! I- I remember! One of you were even ought to kill me at some point, pushed me off a damn fortress instead of ever focusing on Monstrox you only looked at his puppet, which one of you was it??? You think I'd just give myself up to you after that-" He cut himself off when he felt Clay almost completely let go of Jestro and he looked back with at the blue knight with a raised eyebrow, trying to read whatever their expression was. Jestro couldn't afford to linger on that though and quickly stepped away from Clay which earned almost a direct shot from Aaron at Jestro. He tried to move out the way as fast as he could, but it hit him right in the stomach, making him bend over, all the air completely kicked out of his lungs. Everyone was back into an adrenaline rush except for Clay who just barely put any effort into holding his sword. All of the knights were charging right at Jestro who only took the opportunity of Clay's unawarness and yanked the claymore sword right out of their hands and damn was it heavy, he didn't even know why he took it, not like he knew how to swing that thing, it wasn't anything like a staff either. That was when Clay came back to reality too with the only thing he could use against Jestro now was his sword and magic...his magic. That was probably the safest way to capture Jestro, right? He practiced, he knew how to grab a thing and keep hold of it- "Don't move! Or...Or I'll harm him!" Jestro spoke, pointing the sword right at Clay and even if everyone knew that it was unlikely, they still stopped in their tracks, he was unpredictable after all. That's when the Blue knight finally took action and without saying a word, he lightly lifted his hand up and put it on the sword, lowering it from his face while Jestro just trembled with it before tossing the sword away, literally. He tossed it away which ended up accidentally dropping on Macy's foot, the Knight Princess quietly yelping and all of the knights were once again pointing their weapons at Jestro "S-sorry! That was an accident! I swear!" he lifted his hands up in defense and before he could say anything more, a golden sting of what he could guess was the magic he saw Clay use wrapped itself around Jestro's wrist. Clay used it as a plan to grab Jestro, but the other apparently didn't see it that way and grabbed at it, hissing as the pure magic lightly burned him. He was too lost in his head, this whole time he was just having a one way conversation, he was the only one who thought he could run away, so the distant voices he heard in his head from Clay who was ushering him to let go of it. But Jestro didn't, all he could see through his wide eyes was the golden string he was so hopelessly pulling on in a blind panic, barely registering the green tint it was gaining and how it began expanding before it blew up right in his face (just like everything).

He was exposed to magic once again, though it wasn't corruption, but it once again felt like some sort of energy surge went straight through him. He of course didn't realize it, but the exposure managed to break through something that was locked in the Jester. Why did he always find himself in situations that involved absolute chaos and some sort of magic? That was a question he remembers asking right before his last corruption was pulled right out of him, right before the Colossus fell apart. Didn't Monstrox once say that Jestro was the only candidate to his corruption right before zapping him? Apparently no other human survived though it. He should thank that he never got to see Monstrox aimlessly zapping people dead. He decided right then and there that he hated magic and necromancy , or at least being involved in it. The small explosion was enough to send Jestro back and into the ground. The knights had to protect themselves with their shields as well and just when the smoke cleared from the air, Jestro turned over to lay on his side instead of his back, not even feeling like bothering getting up at this point. He was caught, felt sore and tired and he was completely deffensless against the knights which lowered their weapons when they were sure that Jestro wouldn't do anything else. Well...at least today he did something except pick at some boulders.

#nexo knights #lego nexo knights #jestro #clay #claytro

[ghost-writing]

The Monster 3/?? - August Walker fanfic

PART THREE - Change

Word count: 2.7k  

Warnings: Mentions of sex, mentions of violence and murder, swearing and bad language (in English and in Dutch!), some angst I suppose. And August Walker. (The Kingstache deserves its own warning.) And it’s probably full of typos and redundancies. If you see something that irks you, please tell me! :)

Part one can be found here, and part two here!

She felt tense. She was certain he'd try something during the “London expedition”, as Simon had named it. She had checked the reservations, and he only booked three rooms for the four of them, arguing that Simon and Niklaas could share, and assuring her that she would have her own room. Could be true, could be a ruse. Still she would've bet that Agent Control Freak had something planned. It was something in his eyes, faint but present. So she readied herself for a battle. A battle for power over the other. She would not let him get what he wanted that easily. But her team had to remain clueless of what was going on. She would not allow them to find out what was going on between the two of them. Because Niklaas would definitely use it against her.

She arrived early at the station. Simon was already there, his usual anxious self. Walker got there briefly after her. As if he had been following her. He probably had. That creep. After greeting them curtly, he sent Simon to the coffee shop. “My treat”, he said, giving him some money. She then was sure he most definitely had followed her. An intuition. Simon almost ran, happy to oblige, already salivating at the idea of fresh croissants he wouldn't pay for.

“Couldn't get them yourself?”

“Simon knows everybody's preferences in coffee. I only know how you like your tea.”

“And you know that we'll get breakfast on board with our 1st class ticket, right?”

“I do.”

She sniggered. “Ok. Spill the beans.” He lifted an eyebrow at her, trying to look perfectly innocent. “What the hell do you want, Walker?”

“I don't know what you are talking about.” He looked at someone behind her. “Den Boer. Almost late.”

“Rot op, kut”, the young agent muttered.

“What was that, Nik?” Frankie would not pass an occasion of putting that kid back in his place. He turned a deep shade of red, remembering she knew many Dutch curse words, and looked at her right in the eyes, mentally slapping her or spitting in her face, no doubt.

“I... I'm in a bad mood. Alarm clock did not go off this morning. Still, I am right on time, and Simon is not!” His triumph was short lived, as the coffee boy arrived, one hand holding a cardboard tray with four cups, and the other a bag of baked goods. Frankie's stomach growled instantly at the smell of pastry. Walker looked at her, with that unbearable smirk half hidden by his mustache, as if telling her “I knew you'd enjoy something to eat right away. Because I hid cameras in your apartment, and I know you did not eat anything since you woke up.”

“Klootzak”, she thought. “I so want to punch that smug face of his...” Apparently, she was now in a fouler mood than Niklaas.

She took it out on two croissants, eating in silence, sipping on her tea, avoiding to look at the big ass American spy who was gloating.

The speaker announcing that boarding would start shortly pulled her out of her ruminations. They all grabbed their hand-luggage, and rolled to their first class car. They were all seated  around a table, so they'd be able to go through the plan again during the two hour journey. It would not be necessary, but she knew that Simon would ask the same questions again.

As she lead the way, she sat next to the window, and shuddered when Walker sat right next to her. He did not seem to notice, taking her small suitcase without asking her, lifting it above their heads. She shivered again, noticing how effortless it seemed for him, so tall and strong and...

“Frankie! What's wrong?”, Simon asked.

“Headache”, she mumbled. “Give me another croissant.” His face fell.

“I took the last one”, Niklaas said, a hint of defiance in his voice.

Frankie breathed in, through her nose, slowly, deeply. “I'll kill you for that.” Only after that thought had passed, she allowed herself to breathe out, as slowly as she could, never breaking eye contact with Niklaas. The young man was not ready to back down either.

But Simon was noticeably uneasy, trying to calm things down. “Aren't we supposed to have breakfast on board? I suppose it'll be croissants... I'll give you mine, Frankie! I've had enough already.”

“No, thank you, Simon. You don't have to deprive yourself of your breakfast for me.” She forced herself to look and smile at him. Poor Simon was always stuck between her and that shithead. Said shithead felt like he had won this battle, and looked at Walker with a huge grin on his face.

“What are you so happy about, Den Boer?” Walker couldn't stand the kid either. He usually did not care much about the people he had to work with, like Simon. Frankie was a different thing entirely, for obvious reasons. But sometimes, they'd get under his skin almost instantly, as was the case with the other junior officer. That one was not working hard enough, and acted as if he already knew everything he had to know. From experience, those were the worst kind, the most dangerous too.

“No answer? You're usually quite talkative when it comes to criticizing the Ice Queen...”

Niklaas' head almost exploded.

“Don't worry: she already knew you call her that. And worse.”

He looked at Frankie, who had murder in her eyes...

“Juniors, scram.” They didn't wait for further reasons, and left hurriedly.

“What. The. Actual. Fuck. Walker?”

She had paused between every word. Walker saw she was trying to control her wrath through her breathing, but did not understand right away why she was now so angry at him. He remained silent, not sure what answer he should give her.

“What the fuck are you doing? You are... Just... Weird. Stop being weird. Stop it! We're going to London to do a job. I don't know what's going on in your head, but get yourself in check and focus on that fucking job. For fuck sake...”

She stood up, and left him alone. He should have known treating her like a damsel in distress was not going to work. He should have known she'd put up a fight.

The rest of the journey was filled with awkward silences and quick questions about the case. When they got to the hotel, Frankie switched rooms with Simon and Niklaas: she absolutely did not want to be in the room next to Walker's, as they had a communicating door.

She barely talked to him that first day. They met the person they were supposed to get intel from, but that brought up another problem. They now had to go to the countryside to find someone else. But they'd have to conceal their identities and actual purpose. So, the whole team couldn't go, and Niklaas had the most ridiculous idea.

“Frankie, you should go with Agent Walker, pretend you're a married couple...” Again, his eyes were full of pride and mischief. He knew that would bother her. What else did he know?

While she was struggling to find an answer that wouldn't sound too angry, she heard the American say: “No. I'll go alone.”

“You'll look less threatening with a woman...”, tried Simon.

They all looked at Frankie, and something in her made their faces contort in three different expressions, but all meant “This might not be the less threatening-looking woman there is, but she'll have to make do, because it's the only one we have”. Her murderous intents had clearly reappeared.

“Maybe with a cute flowery dress...” Simon regretted his words instantly. Frankie's lips were shut tight, her jaw clenched, her anger palpable. Her silence only made her even more frightening.

“We should find another story”, cut Walker.

And then, Frankie heard herself say “We'll manage. It's only for a couple of days...”

“And at least two whole nights”, teased Niklaas, under his breath. He knew something. He definitely knew something.

Hearing that, Walker straightened his imposing frame, meaning to put an end to this silly conversation. “I said no.”

“I'm the leading officer here, CIA. You're only tagging along. And I say we're doing this. Simon, can you...” She felt queasy at the thought.

“Rent a car, search for a nice hotel in the area, and book a room for the happy couple, sure! I'll contact Emily... I mean: Agent Richards! For the details of your covert identity, Agent Walker...” And Simon skedaddled, followed by his colleague, leaving Frankie and Walker alone in his room.

After a moment of silence, Frankie trying to assert her dominance over her counterpart, Walker attempted a joke.

“Well, nobody is going to believe we're a happy couple, if you look at me that way...”

“I don't have to pretend yet.”

She moved towards the door.

“Wait! We have to... Plan this.”

“We'll have time for that while driving there. Now, I have to go shopping...” Turning around, she looked at him. “Maybe you should too.”

And she left him, confused, worried, and wondering what was wrong with his wardrobe.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, Walker was driving their rented car to the hotel they were supposed to sleep at. In the same room, of course. They had made contact with Peggy, the person they came all that way to meet. Peggy was now called Elizabeth, and was posing as a rich widow, taking care of a small art gallery in a picturesque village in the country side. Expecting her to be weary of strangers, they did not push their luck with her: Walker barely talked to her, most of the work was left to Frankie. She managed to have a lengthy conversation with Elizabeth, about the things a young couple could do in the area: where to eat, what to visit – even each on their own. Frankie pushed the “wife angry at her husband” story-line, because it seemed to work on their target. That woman had no trouble believing they were really married, because “Françoise” was genuinely mad at “Hank”. So, yes, Niklaas' stupid idea had actually worked, because of all the rage that tiny wife had towards her giant of a husband. The best lies are the ones anchored in truth.

But Frankie was drained, unable to conceive that she'd have to play that role for at least a couple more days, spending as many nights in the same room as him... So, when they arrived at the hotel, she went straight to the small restaurant, leaving him to take care of the reservation and the luggage. She sat at a table in a corner of the dining room, ordered a cocktail, drank it whole straight away, and ordered another, plus the lamb dish for herself, and the beef one for Walker. “Ugh! Him...” This mission was not easy, but the worse part was being with him. Him, constantly trying to hold her hand, or putting his arm around her waist or her shoulder. Him, ogling her like she was a flower and he was after her nectar. Him, his warm body, so tall and so wide, smelling so nice... Him. His huge hands. His stupid mustache. His hard cock... “Ugh!”, she hissed, full of rage and lust. She had already downed half her  second glass when she saw him enter the room.

Getting inside the eating area of the inn, he saw her sitting at a table in a corner, away from the two other couple of guests who were already enjoying their meals. An older lady smiled at him, which her husband did not notice because he was focused on Franken. As he sat down in front of her, she gestured at the waitress to bring her another glass.

“I ordered food.”

“Thank you. But no drink for me?” He grabbed her glass and sniffed it. “What the hell is that?”

“Pear daiquiri. They're using local organic pears, it's nice and fresh. And it's my second glass already, because I need to unwind. Oh, here comes the third!” She finished her glass.

The waitress put the cocktail in front of Franken. “They're delicious, aren't they? Do you want one too, sir?” She smiled and batted her lashes at Walker.

“I'll have a scotch, thank you.”

He did not look at her leaving, but he noticed that whatever she did, it irritated his fake wife: she sighed in exasperation.

“We need to talk.”

She sighed some more. “Can I at least eat in peace, please?”

“It doesn't have to be a battle, we can have a quiet, civilized conversation.”

He saw rage in her eyes. He also noticed that she was exhausted. Or maybe it was the rum kicking in, or rather kicking her down.

“I'm sorry for the other night.”

This time, her face was blank. She did not believe him.

“I really am. I've thought about it a lot, and I know I made a mistake.”

Still nothing from her. How did that woman, who had looked so angry with him for the past week and a half, especially since yesterday, could now look that calm and unaffected?

“When was the last time you apologized?” Her tone was quiet, yet threatening. “To anyone.”

She looked at him right in the eyes. Walker made a mental note to never play poker with that woman, because she was not giving any clue to where she was going with that question. So, he tried sincerity, for once.

“I don't remember. It's not very often I do.”

“Why?” She drank, just a gulp.

He chuckled a little. “I don't like being wrong.”

“No, I mean, why to me? Why now?”

That's where she wanted to go. He realized she had done the same thing the other night, when she called him a boy... She had cornered him, just like now. Not leaving him any room for action, forcing him to go forward. He remembered she studied psychology and criminology. He remembered her file said she was good at interrogating suspects. He remembered how she got the man in London to tell them about Peggy and her location. He got played.

“Was it all an act? Your hostility, today?”

The waitress arrived with their plates. “Lamb?”

“That's me”, she said. “He's the beef.” The girl put their respective plates in front of them, and came back right away with Walker's scotch, trying to make eye contact, but he did not react.

Frankie smelled the food, and relaxed. She was starving, and drunk too. She cut a piece of her meat, swiped some gravy, put it in her mouth, and closed her eyes.

“Hmm... Good!” She opened her eyes, and Walker's face was another good thing. It was not the first time she saw that face, she often had that effect on people. But she was fairly surprised that a CIA agent had not seen her coming.

“It was all an act...”

“It wasn't.” She kept eating her dish. “It's really good, eat while it's still warm.”

“But...”

She cut him off. “It wasn't. I find you're insufferable. I didn't mind how smug you were, at first, but I don't know how I've managed to not slap you in the past few days... Or kick you in the balls.” She lifted her knife in front of her. “Or stab you multiple times, dismember your corpse, and disseminate the evidence across the English countryside.” She went back to eating her food like what she just said did not made her sound like a psycho. He still had not started his plate yet.

He took a deep breath, like he was about to say something, but he stopped himself, drank his glass in one go, and started his dinner.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

GUYS! You have no idea how hard it was to get to this... 3 months since I posted part 2. I wrote and re-wrote this, at least 3 times, if not 4. I just HATED what came out. I didn’t like how they were interacting with each other, or with others... It just felt WRONG. 

And then, I don’t know how, Frankie changed her act, she was different: she was a mean cat and August suddenly was a little mouse stuck in her claws. And that weirdly felt RIGHT. (Maybe it’s because I watched How to Get Away with Murder. So: thank you, Annalise Keating, I guess... ^_^ )

So, I’m sorry there’s no smut (there should be in part 4, if I get to finish it!), but I’m so relieved...

#fanfic #August Walker #August Walker fic #August Walker angst #The Monster #angst

[grootpoepjeplasjehoofd]

I’m reading Markus Wolf’s memoirs and I absolutely love his description of growing up in Moscow but also that rapid shift in tone omfg

We adjusted slowly to a strange language and culture, fearful of the harsh manners of the children who shared our courtyard. “Nemets, perets, kolbassa, kislaya kapusta,” they would shout after us: “Germans—pepper, sausage, sauerkraut.” They laughed at our short trousers, too, and we begged our mother for long ones. Finally she gave in with a sigh, saying, “You’re proper little men now.”

But we were soon fascinated by our new environment. After our provincial German childhood, the bustling city, with its rough and ready ways, thrilled us. In those days people still spat the husks of their sunflower seeds onto the pavement, and horse-drawn traps clattered through the street. Moscow was still a “big village,” a city with peasant ways. At first we attended the German Karl Liebknecht School (a school for children of German-speaking parents, named after the Socialist leader of the January 1919 Spartacist uprising, who was murdered in Berlin shortly thereafter), then later, a Russian high school. By the time we became teenagers we were barely distinguishable from our native schoolmates, for we spoke their colloquial Russian with Moscow accents. We had two special friends in George and Victor Fischer, sons of the American journalist Louis Fischer. It was they who gave me the nickname “Mischa,” which has stuck ever since. My brother Koni, anxious not to be left out, took the Russian diminutive “Kolya.”

The Moscow of the thirties remains in my memory as an era of light and shadow. The city changed before our eyes. By now I was a rather serious teenage boy and no longer thought of Stalin as a magician. But as the new multistory apartment blocks soon appeared around the Kremlin, and the amount of traffic suddenly increased as black sedans replaced the pony traps, it was as if someone had waved a powerful wand and turned the Moscow of the past into a futuristic landscape. The elegant metro, with its Art Deco lamps and giddyingly steep escalators, hummed into life, and we would spend the afternoons after school exploring its vaults, which echoed like a vast underground church. The disastrous food shortage of the twenties abated, but despite the new buildings, my family’s friends, mainly Russian intellectuals, lived cheek by jowl in tiny apartments. There were spectacular May Day parades. The exciting news of the day carried highlights of the age like the daring recovery of the Chelyushkin expedition from the pack ice of the Arctic Ocean after its conquest of the North Pole. We followed these events with the enthusiasm that Western children devoted to their favorite football or baseball teams.

With similar passion Koni and I both joined the Soviet Young Pioneers— the Communist equivalent o f the Boy Scouts—and learned battle songs about the class struggle and the Motherland. As Young Pioneers we marched in the great November display on Red Square commemorating the Soviet revolution, shouting slogans of praise for the tiny figure in an overcoat on the balustrade above Lenin’s tomb. We spent our weekends in the countryside around Moscow, gathering berries and mushrooms because even as a city dweller our father was determined to preserve his nature worship as a way of life. I still missed German delicacies, though, and found the sparse Soviet diet, with its mainstays of buckwheat porridge and sour yogurt, desperately boring. Since then I have learned to love Russian food in all its variety, and if must say so, I make the best Pelmeni dumplings (stuffed with forcemeat) this side of Siberia. But I have never developed a great fondness for buckwheat porridge, probably as a result of having consumed tons of the stuff in my teens.

In summer I was dispatched to Pioneer camp and elevated to the role of leader. I wrote to my father complaining about the miserable gruel and military discipline that prevailed there. Back came a typically optimistic letter, bidding me to resist the regime by forming a commission with my fellow children. “Tell them that Comrade Stalin and the Party do not condone such waste. Quality is what counts.. . . Under no circumstances must you, as a good Pioneer and especially as a Pioneer leader, quarrel! You and the other group leaders should speak collectively with the administration. . . Don’t be despondent, my boy.”

The Soviet Union was now our only home, and on my sixteenth birthday, in 1939, I received my first Soviet papers. Father wrote to me from Paris, “Now you are a real citizen of the Soviet people,” which made me glow with pride. But as I grew older I realized that my father’s infectious utopianism was not my natural leaning. I was of a more pragmatic temperament. Of course, it was an exhilarating time, but it was also the era of the purges, in which men who had been feted as heroes of the Revolution were wildly accused of crimes and often condemned to death or to imprisonment in the Arctic camps. The net cast by the NKVD—the secret police and precursor of the KGB—closed in on our emigre friends and acquaintances. It was confusing, obscure, and inexplicable to us youngsters, schooled in the tradition of belief in the Soviet Union as the beacon of progress and humanitarianism.

But children are sensitive to silences and evasions, and we were subliminally aware that we were not party to the whole truth about our surroundings. Many of our teachers disappeared during the purges of 1936-38. Our special German school was closed. We children noticed that adults never spoke of people who had “disappeared” in front of their families, and we automatically began to respect this bizarre courtesy ourselves.Not until years later would we face up to the extent and horror of the crimes and Stalin’s personal responsibility for them. Back then, he was a leader, a father figure, his square-jawed, mustached face staring out like that of a visionary from the portrait on our schoolroom wall. The man and his works were beyond reproach, beyond question for us. In 1937, when the murder machine was running at its most terrifyingly efficient, one of our family’s acquaintances, Wilhelm Wloch, who had risked his life working for the Comintern in the underground in Germany and abroad, was arrested. His last words to his wife were “Comrade Stalin knows nothing of this.”

Of course, our parents tried to keep from us their fears about the bloodletting. In their hearts and minds, the Soviet Union remained, through all their doubts and disappointments, “the first socialist country” they had so proudly told us about after their first visit in 1931.

My father, I now know, was fearful for his own life. Although his wife and children had been granted Soviet citizenship because we lived there, he spent much of his time abroad and so was not a citizen. He was, however, still able to travel on his German passport, even though his citizenship had been revoked. He had already applied for permission from the Soviet authorities to leave Moscow for Spain, where he wanted to serve as a doctor in the International Brigades fighting against General Franco’s Fascists in the bitter Civil War there. Spain was the arena where the Nazi military tried out its deadly potential, practicing for its later aggression against other vulnerable powers. Throughout Europe, left-wing volunteers were flooding to the aid of the Republicans against the Spanish military insurgents. For many in the Soviet Union, fighting there also meant a ticket out of the Soviet Union and away from the oppressive atmosphere of the purges. Decades later, a reliable friend of the family told me that my father had said of his attempts to reach Spain: “I’m not going to wait around here until they arrest me.” That revelation wounded me, even as a grown man, for it made me realize how many worries and reservations had been hidden from us children by our parents in the thirties, and how much sorrow must have been quietly harvested around us among many of our friends in Moscow.

My father never did reach Spain. For a year, his application for an exit visa lay unanswered. More and more of our friends and acquaintances in the German community had disappeared and my parents could no longer hide their anguish. When the doorbell rang unexpectedly one night, my usually calm father leapt to his feet and let out a violent curse. When it emerged that the visitor was only a neighbor intent on borrowing something, he regained his savoir-faire, but his hands trembled for a good half hour.

[sebthesnipe]

An Unexpected Visitor

First // Previous // Next

My Dearest Procyon

Other works by me

Chapter 18

Original story based on this wonderful post by @underdog-arts

Roman stretched, trying to work out the aches and pains from his night before. He was becoming fairly accustomed to the hard ground beneath him at night. It wasn’t the most pleasant experience, but it certainly wasn’t the worst. 

“Good morning, Roman,” Logan’s unusually chipper voice came, pulling the prince’s attention to the small plate of food the witch was offering him. 

“Good morning,” Roman replied a bit hesitantly, eyeing the lanky individual suspiciously. He would have never described Logan as particularly melancholy, but his current sprightly disposition wasn’t the norm either. Something was up. Something had happened. 

“Logan made breakfast!” Patton chimed in excitedly, plopping down next to the prince with his own plate. “I got to help and I didn’t burn anything!” the small man praised with a grin that was infectious. 

Roman  couldn’t help but give a small huff of amusement as he accepted the plate. He shifted, moving to sit a bit straighter when he suddenly noticed the lack of heat next to him and tensed. Virgil was gone! Roman set the plate aside hurriedly pulling his small pallet apart in his sudden terror. 

“Roman,” Logan tried to calm him, noting the prince’s panic. “Roman, it’s alright. Everything is fine.”

“Virgil! Virgil is gone! Where is he, Logan?!” Roman rushed, already pushing to his feet in his hysteria. The raccoon was still injured. He couldn’t have gone off by himself, it was far too dangerous. 

Before Logan could answer, a loud venomous hiss sounded from behind him pulling all of their attention. 

Roman glanced around the lanky witch, gaze catching on the backpack bulging this way and that as the striped form within poked its head out. Virgil’s teeth were bared grumpily as he practically glared at the trio. He seemed to pause for a moment before his whiskers twitched, his gaze shifting to the modest platter that had obviously been set out for him. His tiny hand shot from the leather bag, snatching up a bit of bread before he disappeared in his entirety back into the safety of his den.

The sight had Roman’s tension washing from his shoulders. Virgil was there and he was awake! That had to be a good sign. 

“As I was trying to explain,” Logan began, stepping aside so that Roman could straighten and still have a line of sight towards the raccoon. “Virgil awakened after another treatment. It would appear that the sunlight is hurting his eyes, so he crawled into the pack. I’ve warned him that he should not be moving about much, but he seems content for now and back to his usual cantankerous self.”

The prince gave a sigh of relief, offering the witch next to him a smile. That must have been why Logan was in such a good mood. 

“Come on, Roman. Sit down. Come eat with me,” Patton urged, patting the spot next to him. Roman glanced at the dragon, obviously hesitant but sank down, his gaze still glued to the pack that Virgil resided in. 

Virgil was alright. He would live. The knowledge that Roman would be able to see the man’s face after so long had him unable to contain his excitement. It had been too long, and though he could still recall his dream vividly, it wasn’t enough. 

Roman ate quickly, as if the faster he ate the faster they would move on, and the faster night would come. The sooner that  he could see his Procyon.

…………………………………………………………………….

“You are aware that you can wear the pack as normal, Roman?” Logan asked as they reached the top of the small hill. 

Roman followed after the lanky witch, Virgil’s pack braced gently in his arms. He had refused to allow one of the others to carry it and held it as if its contents were the most precious things in existence. Which to him, they were. 

“I know,” Roman replied in a soft whisper, not wanting to wake the raccoon inside. 

“I think it’s very sweet, Roman,” Patton offered, as Logan rolled his eyes.

“Thank you, Patton. I-”

“There’s the village,” Logan interrupted, pausing as a small town appeared in the distance. Roman pulled to a stop next to him, his anxiety suddenly spiking at the sight. Was this how they felt every time they drew near to a populated area? Were Logan, Virgi,l and Patton always so terrified?

“If we continue on through supper we can make it there by nightfall,” Logan continued, glancing at Patton for reassurance. 

“We are running low on supplies,” the smaller man nodded. “It would be a chance to refuel.”

“And what about Virgil? What if he’s not up for it?” Roman protested, his worry only spiking at the thought of Logan forcing the small beast into his human form. 

“It will be alright, Roman. Virgil can stay hidden until he has recovered fully. Patton and I can take care of everything. That is, if you are amenable to the idea, Patton?” Logan asked, his gaze returning to the smaller man once more. 

“Of course, Logan! It has been so long since I’ve gotten the chance to explore human society! I think it will be fun! I didn’t really get a chance to explore the last town.” Patton bounced excitedly. 

Logan would have to ask Roman to borrow one of his shirts. Hopefully, the fact that the man was so much more muscular than the lanky witch would be enough. Logan anticipated that the oversized fabric would hang off his shoulders, allowing his back to remain untouched if he were careful. 

“And what about money? We spent a lot in the last village. Do we have enough?” Roman countered.

“Don’t worry, Roman,” Logan reassured, “I will take care of everything. You just worry about yourself and Virgil.” The witch then started to head down the hill. Patton offered another smile, hoping it was as reassuring as Logan’s voice had been, before he started heading down as well. 

Roman watched the two silently for a long moment. He didn’t like this. They should most certainly avoid the village. Maybe he was just being paranoid after their last village excursion. Maybe everything would be fine this time. Regardless, he had a bad feeling about it as he hurried after the others. 

………………………………………..

Logan had been right. They reached a small inn on the outskirts of the town just before nightfall. It was quiet, the only sounds in the night were the subtle chirping of insects and the occasional laughter coming from within the drafty doors of the building. Roman was still far too reserved about everything, but he refrained from speaking out. Logan had been right. They needed to restock and regroup. Still, the prince was a bit anxious about it all. 

It didn’t take long for them to purchase their small room and settle down for the night. Roman took the floor, leaving the two beds to Logan and Patton. He didn’t mind the stiff ground as he shifted to pull the pack, Virgil still tucked safely inside, closer, ensuring that if the raccoon stirred, the prince would know. 

Logan was the first to stir as morning came, moving to dress quickly for the day. As planned, He borrowed one of Roman’s far too large shirts just, tucking it into his trousers carefully. The thin fabric hung from his shoulders limply, brushing against his back occasionally but no more than any cloak he wore. It wasn’t the most ideal situation but the witch was determined to make it work. 

Patton woke up not too long after, his gaze moving to take in the other man fully dressed for the first time since Patton had met him. The dragon couldn’t deny that he enjoyed the sight of Logan’s bare chest, though he most certainly was not disappointed seeing him as he was now. 

The baggy shirt clung to the taller man’s shoulders, highlighting just how broad they were while the low neck line brought attention to the tanned expanse of skin beneath. His tight trousers hugged his hips in beautiful contrast, making Patton flush as he moved to get ready for the day. 

Before long, Roman and Virgil were left still slumbering alone in the small room.

……………………………………………..

Roman gave a small start as a knock sounded. Fear washed through him as he was pulled from his nightmares, an arm darting out around the large pack next to him to make sure it was still there. Inside, the raccoon gave an agitated growl though Roman wasn’t sure it was directed at him or the whoever was disturbing them. 

Another knock sounded making Roman sit up and take stock of the small room. 

Logan and Patton were gone, probably wanting to get their errands done early. Virgil’s small snout poked out of the bag, whiskers twitched nervously as he scented the air and gave another, smaller hiss. 

“It’s okay,” Roman cooed softly towards the beast, trying to soothe him. “It’s alright. I’ll see who it is and get rid of them.”

Virgil stuck his striped head out a bit further, eyed the prince before giving a small huff of affirmation and ducking back into the bag. He was not a people raccoon (or person for that matter). He just wanted to sleep. 

Roman pushed to his feet and moved to pull open the door, ready to send away whoever it was that had decided to bug them. 

A nobleman stood before him dressed in fine green and yellow silks with far too much frill. He stood the same height as Roman though had a slightly smaller frame. The most disturbing thing about the man, however, was that he wore Roman’s face. Well, Roman’s face with a thin curled mustache above his lip. 

“What-”

“Roman!” The man cried, pushing past Roman in his shocked state. The man’s grin seemed to split his face, looking disturbing as if he had a devious plan that had just come to fruition. “I thought that was you, but I didn’t want to corner you with those two up your butt. Oh! Were they actually up your butt?! Do tell! I want all the juicy deets!” the man giggled, clapping his hands as he bounced in a small circle, taking in the tiny room. 

“What? No! Wh- I- Who are you?! Have we met?” Roman stammered, thrown off kilter by the man’s bold words and seemingly familiar air. 

“I certainly hope not.” The other man scoffed, waving a hand in the air flamboyantly, his nasally voice grating on Roman’s nerves. “But I know you, quite well actually.” 

Roman wasn’t sure he believed the man. Something about him was familiar, but the prince couldn’t quite put his finger on it. 

The man moved towards one of the beds and began to toss the perfectly made bedding to the floor. 

“What are you doing?” Roman demanded, hurrying after him to pick up the mess. 

“Making myself comfortable.” 

“Well stop it!” The prince ordered, swatting away the man’s hands. 

“Now, Roman, that’s no way to treat an old friend and after everything I’ve risked to come visit.” The man practically whined, giving a small pout. 

“Listen, I don’t know who you are or what you're doing here, but I don’t like it! I especially don’t like the way you look! So, get out or start explaining!” Roman spat angrily. 

The other man didn’t bat an eyelash at Roman’s authoritative voice. In fact he seemed to enjoy it. 

“Or what? Are you going to punch me? You can’t fucking punch me, Roman,” the man chuckled. “I’m not even actually here,” he chuckled and for emphasis swung at the prince.

Roman flinched but the impact never came. Instead, the man’s hand drifted through Roman’s cheek as if it had never been there in the first place. 

“Wh- How did you…” Roman stammered staring at him dumbfoundedly. 

“I’m astroprojecting you ditzy himbo,” the man rolled his eyes before giving a small yelp as he felt something ghost through his ankle and took a step back. 

Virgil stood on all fours, hackles raised, teeth barred as he growled at the newcomer. It was obvious that the raccoon had attempted to sink his fangs into the man’s ankle, but had managed nothing short of a jaw snap against the incorporeal form. 

“What is that thing?!” The nobleman cried aghast, waving a hand as if to shoo Virgil away. 

“Virgil, be careful!” Roman rushed at the same time, moving to scoop the large animal into his arms. 

The raccoon accepted willingly but his gaze remained glued to the figure before them, teeth still barred. 

“It’s so dreadfully ugly…” the man huffed, leaning in for a closer look. “I love it!” he suddenly chirped with another large grin. “Can I keep it?!”

“No!” Roman snapped louder than before. “Now tell me who you are or leave!”

The man eyed the prince as if considering his options. He knew Roman wouldn’t listen to him until he got a few answers himself. 

“Fine,” the nobleman sighed before straightening. He extended a hand to examine his nails carefully before speaking once more. “My name is Remus. I’m your twin brother. Though what sort of brother never sends so much as a birthday card?!” 

To be continued...

Taglist:

@hiddendreamer67 @nightashes @aequinoctiale @sumersnowlilly

#sanders sides #sanderssides #sandersides #sander sides #virgil #ts virgil #virgil sanders #anxiety #ts anxiety #anxiety sanders #roman #ts roman #roman sanders #creativity #ts creativity #creativity sanders #patton #ts patton #patton sanders #morality #ts morality #morality sanders #logan #ts logan #logan sanders #logic #ts logic #logic sanders #cat!logan #raccoon!virgil

[gloriousstudentfury-love]

This is It ✰

y/n’s POV

"Schneider, I'm going to the Alvarez's!" I yelled, heading for the door

"Wait! Did you take your medicine?" He asked, coming into the room

"Yes, I promise! Now can I go?" I asked, anxious to go see my friends.

Schneider was my parent's best friend in high school. When I was four, they passed away and I was sent to live with him. I know you're probably thinking "why didn't you go live with other relatives?" Well, to answer your question, my parents didn't have great relationships with their other family. Although it was a little weird at first, it was the best situation I could've been put in to, and I love it.

"Yeah, yeah." He said, shooing me off

I slipped on my white converses and ran out the door, slamming it behind me.

_______

I almost bumped into Penelope, in the hallway, and saw how many bags she was carrying.

"Hey, Ms. Alvarez. Do you need some help with those bags?" I asked

"Yes, please." She said handing me one, and I grabbed onto it, tightly.

"Also, can you please try and get Alex off his computer? Elena said he's been on it all day." She asked, as she unlocked the door

"Alex. Alex, help." Ms. Alvarez said, trying to get his attention

Alex, shameful to say also my best friend, just sat there and stared at his screen

"Real useful, isn't he?" I questioned, sarcastically

I took out a loaf of bread and threw it at his head, making him turn to look at us

"Papito, let's go! You know I have a bum shoulder." Penelope said

He groaned, and picked up one bag, then went right back to the couch with his computer. I set down the two bags I was carrying, on the table, and walked over to the couch.

"Thank you. Next time I'll Skype you." Penelope said, sarcastically, due to his lack of help

I looked over his shoulder, at his computer screen, to find he was looking at a pair of shoes.

"Still looking for sneakers? You know, it's not that big of a deal." I said

"As your best friend, I'm inclined to tell you that what you just said was stupid. Also, you wear the same shoes everyday, so... shh." Alex said, making me roll my eyes and slouch on the couch.

Then Alex's grandma, Lydia, pulled open the curtain that separates her room, dramatically.

"We have a problem." Lydia said

"Hey, Lydia." I said, waving

"Hello, little one. Have you been working on your Spanish?" She asked, smiling

and beautiful cheerleader named Layla. A handsome and smooth baseball...

"Trying. Gracias por enseñarme." I said, attempting to show what I'd learned

She nodded approvingly (A/N: if my Spanish is wrong please let me know, because I have no clue how to speak it)63

"I know. The hipsters have discovered Porto's" Penelope said, referring back to what Lydia was talking about, "Line around the block is like the freakin Apple Store now."

"Mom!" Elena yelled, coming in

"And this one, I don't like her anymore." Lydia said, pointing an accusing finger at Elena

"I don't care if you like me. At least y/n does." Elena said, making them both look at me to see if it was true

"Elena, I love you but please don't get me in trouble with your grandma. She scares me." I said

"Sounds like you're both on the same page." Penelope said

"Your daughter does not want to have a quinces." Lydia said

"What? Why? We already booked the room, and I found a great band. Okay, it's a deejay. Okay, it's your brother with an IPod playlist, but it's a very good playlist." Penelope insisted

"I researched the history of quinceañeras and found out they're totally misogynistic." Elena said

"She's been reading again. Why do you let her read?" Lydia said, as they walked in the kitchen

I turned back to Alex

"Are you listening to music?" I asked, which he nodded to

"Let me listen." I said, flipping one of the headphones inside out so I could hear.

____________

A few minutes later, Lydia took off Alex's headphones and started speaking to him in Spanish.

"Yeah, she has not taught me that yet." I said to Elena and Penelope, making the laugh

Alex said something back to her in Spanish and she laughed.4

"Abuelita I'll learn more Spanish when you learn English." Elena said

"Ooh, shouldn't have said that." I said to Elena

"I know the English. Besides, your abuelo, God rest his soul, did not marry me for my mind." Lydia said

Elena looked confused and walked away.

"Who do you think you're insulting?" Penelope asked her

"Good one, Mom. By the way, what are the last 16 digits of your credit card?" Alex asked, making me flick him

"Smooth, genius." I said, sarcastically

"Uh, What are you doing? Are you shopping? Cause who said you could shop?" Penelope asked, looking at his screen

"You said I could order sneakers for school." He said

"Five pairs?" I asked, laughing

"Monday through Friday. Don't worry, I don't need weekend sneakers." He said

"Oh, well..I can't have my son in Monday sneakers on a Saturday. Somebody might call child services." Penelope said, sarcastically

"Mom, I'm serious. I'm in middle school now. How I look kinda matters." He said

"No, it doesn't." I said from the couch

"Okay, So you can buy one pair for under $40." She said

"Forty?" He said

"That'll get you perfectly good sneakers to last the whole year." She said

"The whole year? Okay, Mom, I know we're not rich, but are we poor?" He asked

"Oh, come on. You can buy like four pairs of shoes at Payless for $40." I said6

"Payless! Who are you?" He said, dramatically

"No, we're... fine." She said

"That sounds like poor." He said

"We're not poor! I mean, look around! We have a TV, a refrigerator. You have a laptop." She said

"These are things that poor people have." He said

"We have an air conditioner." She said

"You never let us turn it on." He said

"The point is you could, but don't. Don't ever touch that thing." She said

"All right, it's Friday night. Family dinner time. Come on, let's go!" Penelope said

"All right, I'm gonna go." I said, getting up

"Wait, you don't want to stay." She said

"I'm okay. I think Schneider ordered Chinese anyway." I said

"It's probably because she thinks our food is too spicy." Alex said, smirking

"Hey! I can handle spicy food...kinda. Okay, that was a lie. My stomach is too weak." I said

"Too much information." Penelope said, laughing

"Sorry. Bye, Ms Alvarez. Bye, Elena. Bye, Lydia." I said, walking out the door

"Bye, brace face." I said to Alex, walking back in, before shutting the door again.2

_____________

"Please shave it." I begged Schneider the next day, as we walked over to the Alvarez's.

"No, I look good." He said, knocking

"Keep telling yourself that." I said as the door opened

"Schneider! y/n! Well, you grew out that mustache, huh?" Penelope said, noticing his facial hair

"Yeah, I finally took the plunge and went full handlebar. Feeling really good about it." He said walking in with his tools, as I followed him.

"I feel like it says, "I mean business." He said

"Yes, if your business is taming lions." Penelope said

He sighed and turned away

"Wait! I have one. You're 40 and you look stupid." I said bluntly, making Penelope laugh

"I knew it!" He said, ripping it off

"What? That's fake?" Penelope asked

"Wow, it's sad that I didn't notice you mysteriously grew a mustache in a day... and I live with you." I said

I turned to the hallway, "I'm gonna go get Alex."

_____________

"Get up lazy." I said, pushing Alex out of his bed

"Ay! What are you doing here?" He asked

"Schneider dragged me over so he could fix your guys sink." I said

"You know, it's only been ten months since we became friends and you're already pushing me out of my bed." He said

"Honestly, I should have done that a long time ago, because that was funny. Also, I was your first friend and your family loves me, so... you can't get rid of me." I said, walking out and he followed me

We walked into the living room to hear Penelope complain.

"Mami, please, put those away. I hate those pictures. Burn it!" Penelope said, grabbing the photo album Lydia was holding

Schneider, Alex, and I gathered around her to see her old quinceañera pictures.

"Oh, Hey! The quinceañera. You're doing it! Elena, I knew you'd come around." Schneider said

"She didn't! She thinks she's being sold into slavery." Penelope asked

"That's not really part of it, right?" Schneider asked, as we all stared him

"You know what? Let me talk to her." Schneider said

"No, I don't think you should do that." I said, trying to stop him

"Hey, girl! How you livin? Your abuela wants to throw you a sick kick back on a Saturday night. You know, keep it one hundred. You down?" Schneider said, trying to be cool

"Wow. Lots of second hand embarrassment off that." I said

"What's happening right now?" Elena asked confused

"Schneider, she's gonna do it. I got this. You know what, Captain Debater? Let's debate this. But we're no doing regular debate. It's gotta be the whole thing I saw you do where we argue the opposite side to better understand each other." Penelope said

"You mean a Lincoln-Douglas debate? My specialty? I once successfully argued against gravity, so..." Elena said

"Ooh, Ima take my earrings off...cause it's about to go down!" Penelope said

We all sat on the couch to watch.

"The issue before us is quinces or no quinces. Okay.. so I'm You." Elena said, taking off her glasses

"Mmm, listen kid! A quinces is just about the village celebrating that you're a woman, which I know you know cause you're the smartest one in the family!" Elena said, in an exaggerated accent while she danced

"Oh, I got better moves than that, right?" Penelope asked us

"Eh.." we all said

"But village isn't literal. It just means your family and your friends. So, what's so bad about this modern village coming together to celebrate you?" Elena finished

"Oh, Yeah! She's good." Lydia said while we clapped

"Oh, my money is on her. You guys wanna start taking bets? Actually, scratch that. I'm addicted to gambling." Schneider said

"Okay, now I'll be you." Penelope said

She took Elena's glasses and beanie and put them on.

"Oh, my god! Do you even hear yourself? Seriously! Your argument is that my adulthood has to be approved by your friends? Pass!" Penelope said, raising her voice

We all stared at her, and cringed

"Well, I'm not gonna clap for that." Lydia said

"So you want to crush my heart into pieces.. after I worked so hard to give you an opportunity in this land of the free and home of the brave?" Elena said, still copying Penelope

"That's not me, that's her." Penelope said, pointing to Lydia

"You make me sound like I have an accent." Lydia said, making me laugh

"Let's end this. Elena, you wrecked your first communion because, as a vegetarian, you wouldn't eat the body of Christ. You even refused to take any pictures with Santa because your abuelita wouldn't admit that Christmas is a pagan ritual." Elena said

"Jesus and Santa were cousins. Everyone knows this." Lydia said

"Who cares? You get presents." I said

"So, when it comes to your quinces... I'm pleading with you. Can't you do his one thing for our mother who loves you?" Elena said

"Okay, Mom, I'll do it." Penelope said still imitating Elena, as everyone gasped

"Wait, What?" Elena asked

"I'm saying, you win! You should have a quinces just like you proved." Penelope said

We all laughed

"Dang! Mami set you up!" Alex said

"I didn't realize how right I was. She said a bunch of stuff I didn't even think of!" Penelope said cheering

"Okay, this was stupid! I'm still not having a quinces." Elena yelled

"Oh, God, just accept it. You're Cuban, you're 15, you're gonna have a big party, with a poofy dress and a bad photo. It's what we do." Penelope said4

Elena yelled in Spanish, ran off, and slammed her door.

"She can speak Spanish." Lydia said

____________

Later, after school, I was at the Alvarez's house while Schneider fixed their sink. Me and Alex were watching something on his computer, when his mom walked in.

She was holding a lot of boxes so I got up to help her. I took two.

"Alex. Alex!" Penelope said

"He can't hear you! He is possessed by the YouTube." Lydia said9

I help set down the boxes on the table.

"I can explain." Alex said

"Really? You can explain why one pair of sneakers magically became five? Because that is some Jesus crap right there. Sorry I said Jesus so close to the word crap." Penelope said, as Lydia did the sign of the cross

"Mom, this family's been through a lot, and I felt like I need to provide.. because I'm the man of the house now." Alex said

"Are you, though?" I questioned

"Oh, that's why you bought five pairs of sneakers?" Penelope asked

"That's why I bought no pairs of sneakers." Alex said

"Oh, he's into magic now? Can I be your assistant? No, I will become focus." Lydia said

"Free returns, Mom. I can order any pair I want, wear them a couple of times. As long as I keep them clean, I can send them right back." Alex said

"I know you wanna be mad, but that's kinda genius." Schneider said

I shrugged kinda agreeing.

"No, it's not. Alex, there's no way you can keep all these sneakers clean enough to send back." Penelope said

"Oh, no?" Alex said, propping his shoes up on the table

"Oh, so, it's six pairs of shoes? Okay, what about the bottoms? You've been walking around all day." Penelope said

"Oh, you're right, Mom." Alex said

Then, he pulled a cover off the bottom of the shoe, revealing the clean under side.

"I'm mean, you gotta get him on Shark Tank or something." Schneider said, throwing his hands up

"No. No, this ends now. It's like you're stealing." She said

"Exactly! It's like I'm stealing." He said

"No, you're not charming your way out of this. I said one new pair. You disobeyed me. Now, you get no pairs. No, you know what? Now, you get Elena's old sparkly ones." Penelope said

"With the multicultural princesses? No!" He said

"Lucky for you, She never wore them because they were too gender specific. She did like that they were diverse." Penelope said, picking up the boxes

"I'm not wearing those. I still don't understand why I can't buy these. Don't you have more money now that Papi's gone?" He asked

"What?" She asked

"Well, you have a job, plus Papi gives you money, right? So that's, like, double money." He said

"Wow. That was ignorant." I whispered, sinking into the couch.

"Sit down." She said, pushing out the kitchen chair

"Let me talk to him." Schneider said

"Out!" Penelope yelled

Me and Schneider sprinted out.

______

Later, I snuck into Alex's room from the other side of the building. I knocked on the window and he opened it up.

"So, you're mom gave you a pair of sneakers back?" I asked

"Yep. But I realized that I don't need a lot down here, because I have a lot going on up here." He said, pointing at his face

"Yeah, Uh huh." I said, faking a smile

Then I rummaged through his closet

"Can, I borrow one of your school shirts? Schneider washed mine with the colors, and now they're a different color." I said

"Yeah, But it's gonna be big on you." He said

"That fine I'll just roll my skirt and tuck it in." I said, taking one out and smelling it.

"Wow. It doesn't smell terrible." I said, surprised

"I know right. I decided to let my mom finally wash them." He said, proudly

"Wow, you got issues." I laughed

"Night brace face." I said leaving out the window

"Night, frizz ball." He yelled, referring to my hair

I laughed and shut the window.+

__________

#odaat #alex alvarez

[kcwcommentary]

VLD6x03 – “Monsters & Mana”

6x03 – “Monsters & Mana”

I love this episode.

This show has done several non-standard episodes, and they are at the bottom of the list of episodes for me. This one is the exception. This is my favorite episode since season two ended (though I do like 3x05 “The Journey”).

The episode is basically the Paladins sitting around playing Dungeons & Dragons, and it’s great. When I first watched this episode, it was part of my big marathon of seasons 3 through 7, and I had no idea this episode existed. When it first started, I instantly thought it seemed like D&D, so the more I realized that it was, the more excited I got about the episode.

We start with a monster pursuing Pidge and Hunk’s characters. Pidge’s character is geared up in heavy armor, and Hunk’s character seems to be a wizard, what with his casting a lightning bolt spell. That spell does next to nothing, and as they run away, Hunk’s character says that he’s “a healer, not a fighter,” so then how did he get access to a lightning bolt spell. I mean, he looks enough like a cleric that I thought he was one, but the lightning bolt spell made me think I must be wrong and he had to be a wizard. It doesn’t really matter.

The ogre (looked like an orc to me, but they eventually call it an ogre) continues to chase them, and he has an ocarina that he uses to make Hunk fall asleep. Pidge is immune to sleep because she’s playing a dwarf character (of course Pidge’s character would be immune to negative things). She uses a jump attack to smash the ocarina with her axe, giving Hunk a chance to cast some binding spell on the ogre. Pidge whacks the ogre sideways with her axe (can’t show a big giant wound like an axe would cause), and they defeat him. In a bit of cross-genre RPG content, the ogre poofs into a floating crystal more reminiscent of monster deaths in video games.

The crystal is one that neither Pidge nor Hunk have seen the likes of before, and Pidge proposes taking it to an innkeeper who for some reason she assumes will know more about it than the two of them do. I know the episode is setting up the innkeeper being the villain, and I know this episode can be looser with logic given its non-standard style of story, but that is an unexplained jump in logic for Pidge to make. Apparently, Hunk’s character’s village was turned to stone, so that’s his quest, to un-petrify them. Hunk’s character, anxious about travelling to wherever they’re going, says of his village, “I mean, they’re not really going anywhere.” That made me laugh.

They arrive at the inn, but apparently have no money for food. The animation changes to have a 16-bit RPG style as Pidge smashes some pots looking for coins. I have smashed a lot of pots in video games in my life, so I love that moment. They take the coin and Pidge orders a “greasy meat pile,” which the Coran-innkeeper calls a “health plate.” It kind of makes me go eew hearing Pidge specifically order it “greasy.”

Coran’s innkeeper NPC is something. Seriously tall, like giant-level height, super muscular, but hair that seems like more of a feminine style, but ever still Coran’s mustache. The innkeeper says the crystal is the type some evil wizard named Dakin uses. He’s, of course, located inside a dungeon.

As the innkeeper tells Pidge and Hunk where that dungeon is located (mirroring Lotor telling the group about both Oriande and the rift between realities, wherein they fight at the end of the season), Shiro’s character in a shadowy corner of the inn speaks up. I super love Shiro’s character. He’s a paladin! It’s really sad though knowing that the EPs thought they were mocking Shiro himself by having his character be a paladin concerned with protecting and helping people. It’s kind of infuriating that the EPs think there’s something wrong with a person just being a good person like Shiro is.

Anyway, Pidge and Hunk go over to talk to Shiro. Hunk says his character is named Block, and that he’s a sorcerer. I’m kind of confused now. Not that this episode is adhering to an actual game system, but with Block having earlier said that he was “a healer, not a fighter,” his being a sorcerer doesn’t feel right. Being a sorcerer matches the spells he’s cast though, so it was that particular “healer” line of dialog that is the dissonant element. Pidge’s character is named Meklavar, a fighter.

I love Shiro’s character wearing a shiny crown/horn in place of his white floof of hair. He gives the backstory of his character. He was chosen to be a paladin at a young age. He was raised in a monastery, but one day a leviathan-demon attacked, destroying the monastery, and killing his master. (He was educated at the Galaxy Garrison, and one day a Galra ship attacked, setting of his quest.) The master’s last words and immediate death is making fun of the cliché of so many stories having of a character dying as they say something important, and I laughed. And then the master is still alive just long enough to speak again and die again. And Shiro, recounting the tale while sitting in the inn, cries a big, long tear. The moment definitely plays with some tropes.

Hunk and Pidge’s characters get up and walk out of the inn. (Granted, they’re playing characters in a game, but it reflects their non-game character that they walk away from someone they’re supposedly friends with. Any decent friends playing a game together like this want their friends to feel included in the game, but that’s not their behavior here.) The sound of Shiro’s voice panicking, saying, “Where are you guys going?” as Block and Meklavar leave really gets to me.

Then Block says, “Man, that guy was so boring.” This is the voice of Joaquim Dos Santos and Lauren Montgomery talking about Shiro, not just Block talking about Shiro’s character in the game. This infuriates me. This is textual proof to go along with what they’ve said in interviews about how this episode is supposed to be mocking Shiro. JDS and LM always thought Shiro was boring. That’s why they resented being told they couldn’t kill off Shiro. One, if a character is boring, as head of the creative team, it’s your fault that that character is boring. Two, Shiro was never boring. That they think of him as boring tells us about how JDS and LM think about people. They think that someone who wants to serve and protect aren’t good people, that there’s something wrong with them being that way, and that they think no one could find value in a character who displays those qualities.

Shiro’s character refuses to stay behind and runs to join Block and Meklavar. Then a giant mouse attacks, eating Shiro. Cut to the table that Coran, Shiro, Hunk, and Pidge are playing at. One of the mice is chewing on Shiro’s character miniature. Shiro is mildly incredulous that Coran is declaring his character dead in the game just because the mouse jumped on the table.

Coran says, “Don’t worry, you can just make a new character.” There is a differential in people who play RPGs demonstrated here: Some players really don’t care about characters. As some people far more clever than I am have said, they’re the kind of players who roll play, not role play. Player characters for this style of player are little more than the numbers on the character sheet. For others of us, the character is a lot more than what’s printed on that sheet. We invest ourselves emotionally in our characters, think about their backstory, and can’t just discard them so easily when they die in game.

Shiro takes his mini and puts it back on the table, saying, “I’m going to be a paladin again.” Yes!

Coran says, “Come on now, do you really want to play a paladin?” and then lists a bunch of other classes.

Shiro counters, “I don’t know what’s more fulfilling than being a paladin.” I love it!

And Coran is animated angry and yells, “But you’re already a Paladin in real life!” Coran then growls. I’m sorry, but no. Coran getting angry here is unjustifiable. Why does it bother him if Shiro wants to play as a paladin in the game? (Because it bothers the show’s EPs and writers that they have to include Shiro as a Paladin in the show. The EPs wanted to get rid of Shiro so that they could have Keith as the Black Paladin, and so they’ve written their anger at not being able to into Coran’s dialog. Of course, they were eventually able to talk their way into completely sidelining Shiro in seasons 7 and 8 in order to get what they wanted in having Keith be Black Paladin.)

Also, this is technically the clone playing the game here, not the actual Shiro. The show eventually blatantly proclaims the clone to be an “evil thing.” But here we see the clone and subtextually here he’s telling us how much being a Paladin means to him. Here the clone is showing us through that subtext that he is not evil. He, as much as the real Shiro, cares about helping people, about serving and protecting. We saw that in 4x01 “Code of Honor” when he begged the Black Lion to let him help the other Paladins. But again, the EPs think that this makes a person “boring.”

Allura and Lance enter the room and see them playing. Allura is interested in joining them, though Lance is skeptical since it involves a book. He also freaks out over the idea of a d20. Lance asks if they don’t all have something more important to do (ignoring the fact that he himself isn’t doing anything important right now). Pidge and Hunk are waiting on diagnostic to run on some system of the Castle Ship.

Shiro responds, “And I’m trying to take a mental break. We’ve been going really hard lately.” Awe!! Let Shiro have some fun! (Especially since the show almost never writes him to have any moments like this.)

Lance is more interested in playing once he hears that Allura wants to play. Sigh.

We return to their game. Block, Meklavar, and Shiro’s character are walking through the woods. Allura’s character, an elven mystical archer, joins them. Lance is a cat-eared thief named Pike, which he says is not a thief but a ninja-assassin. He poofs around with smoke bombs, and loudly yells about his character “lurking in the shadows, silently watching!” The effect of having him yell so loudly about being silent is funny. And then they see him stealing money from a pouch. So yeah, thief.

Allura’s character summons a flying mount that they all then ride on to the dungeon.

I love Block asking, “Did anyone remember to bring torches.” Needing to see in dark environments is something RPG players are kind of notorious for forgetting, so Block’s comment is so very meta.

Shiro then says, “I really think my character would have remembered to bring a torch.” I do agree with him, and a good dungeon master, game master, or as Coran’s calling himself in this episode lore master wouldn’t be so strict as Coran is here. It reads more like Coran is again voicing the EPs’ dislike of Shiro. Allura realizes her character an make an arrow glow, so they have light.

They come to a dead-end in the dungeon. Lance says, “Maybe you just have to knock,” knocks on the wall, and they door is revealed. It totally references back to 1x01 “The New Alliance” where he gained access to the Blue Lion by knocking on its forcefield. So of course, I’m now thinking of how Blue valued Lance so much that she let him in just because he knocked, and then by moving Lance from Blue to Red, that bond he’s had with Blue from the beginning was senselessly taken from him.

The episode then goes meta again by having Lance’s character, as the thief, have to check for traps on the door. My experience suggests that the presence and use of traps in D&D is such that players rarely speak about the process in any in-character terms, only in terms of game mechanics. The way the dialog is written here totally matches that real way checking for traps is usually handled in games. So, Lance rolls low, the trap is triggered, and everyone plunges down a shaft/highly sloping tunnel. Once they fall out into the open, Block casts a spell that gives everyone a flying chicken to hold on to so that they don’t fall. The chickens are funny.

Then, there’s a montage of the group fighting various monsters, until they come upon a giant pile of gold and treasure. Allura gets a “quick draw quiver with a magical creature-summoning arrow.” Pidge gets “goves of transmutation,” the description of which kind of makes me think of Allura’s alchemy. Lance gets an invisibility cloak. Hunk gets a bowl of endless food because of course he does. (Sigh.) And Shiro gets a “blazing sword.” This makes me think of Voltron’s sword’s flaming version, and then I again think of how this show takes being the Black Paladin away from Shiro. As soon as his character lifts the sword, he’s super excited, and then he gets hit by black and red lightning and dies screaming, his hair-floof crown and the sword being the only things left behind. And how do the others’ characters react? Pidge says, “Ooo, he dropped a rare item.” They don’t care about Shiro.

The innkeeper is the villain. A silly, simplistic twist like this is okay since they’re playing a game here, but it does reflect on what the show is doing with Lotor. Like the innkeeper, he was brought in as an ally to the Paladins, providing them with information about where to go and what to do, and then, out of nowhere really, he’s suddenly not a good person but a villain. It’s a process that’s fine when they’re all sitting around here playing a game, but the main show itself needed to do way better than this.

Shiro’s new character arrives, teleporting into the dungeon. Shiro’s twin brother Jiro, “here to complete Shiro’s quest.” It has to be a meta reference to the clone story. And still, his new character, like the clone, is a good person, trying to help and protect people. Pidge responds, “A paladin again?” with a lot of derision, so this is more of the EPs’ dislike of Shiro being written into the meta-dialog of the characters. It doesn’t hurt anybody for Shiro to play whatever character he wants, so how about you shut up, Pidge.

Dakin talks about Block’s petrified village, saying, “I’ve already siphoned off their life force.” Clearly, this is a cryptic foreshadowing of Lotor’s colony and the Alteans there being the source of the unexpected quintessence. It almost feels like this is the show semi-consciously recognizing that how the rest of the season writes Lotor is super underdeveloped and shallow. Either the writers know they wrote Lotor’s end badly and just didn’t have the writing skills to do better or weren’t allowed by the EPs or something, or they actually think they’ve written Lotor well and are just mirroring it here, unaware that this reveals how shallow they wrote Lotor’s end.

Dakin blasts Jiro with flame, and his shield even generates some glowing forcefield-like energy to help deflect the blast. I love shields as tools and symbols, so I love that his character has one.

The episode changes animation style again to look like that of a video game while Allura’s character shoots enemies with arrows. The party takes damage, and Allura uses a “healing arrow,” complete with yelling the name of the ability as she does so – that’s meta. There is something odd, in a funny way, of shooting someone causing them to be healed.

Jiro then vows to avenge his twin. I wish with this show had Shiro care about the clone after it falls as much as Jiro cares about Shiro. If the EPs thought Shiro was a boring character, then how about writing him to want vengeance against Haggar for what she’s done to him and to all the clones the same way Jiro wants revenge here? It would have been a plot that would have let the show wrestle with the implications and significance of the clone story instead of just instantly forgetting any of it ever happened.

The shot from behind of Jiro running toward Dakin… yeah, that’s nice.

They keep fighting, Block casting “embiggen” on Meklavar, who grows giant and axes Dakin.

Jiro speaks, but with Shiro-the-player’s comments, “This game is so amazing. It requires problem-solving, teamwork, creativity. All the skills you want to imbue when doing team-building exercises.” I love Shiro going a little nerdy in the moment. I love seeing and hearing! him be excited about something. He’s clearly having fun. And it also reflects his character as a leader that he sees the game through that lens of leadership and teamwork. But remember, this guy is supposed to be an “evil thing.” Grr.

And Lance then yells at him, “Stop trying to ruin our fun with learning!” Stop trying to ruin Shiro’s fun, Lance. This show lets Shiro have such little fun as it is!

Surprise, Dakin isn’t dead. With the show using Dakin to foreshadow and mirror Lotor, his not being dead here could be read as further foreshadowing, a hint to the viewer that Lotor’s story isn’t over just because he dies at the end of the season. But it’s not.

Dakin is now a dragon. Block is hurt, and Allura shoots another healing arrow. Pidge gets smashed by a dragon tail. Shiro tries to draw the dragon’s attacks away from the rest of the characters, just like a tank character like the paladin class usually does in RPGs. Hunk realizes they need a plan, so he casts a “secret” spell, and the players huddle away from Coran to devise that plan.

Pike distracts the dragon with his quick speed and cloak of invisibility. Block throws out some food from his endless bowl. Meklavar transmutes the food into oil with her gloves. Allura summons what looks like a hippocampus, a creature from Greek mythology with a horse-like body, fish-like tail, and wings. Jiro mounts it, lights his sword on fire, and sets the oil on fire. The fire destroys the dragon.

Victory.

Pidge and Hunk have a breakthrough on what they’re working on on the Castle Ship. Lance reacts, saying, “Somehow I understand the fantasy words better than the science ones.” Is that the writers telling us that they know they don’t understand the science they try to write into this show?

Shiro says, “I can’t get over how great that game was!” It’s so nice. This man deserves to have fun!

Allura comments about how the fun of playing has made the time go by quickly, and Lance, of course, responds out of his attraction to Allura, “We have pretty good time together, don’t we?” She says, “We sure do,” and this feels like it’s setting up the idea that the problem is Allura just hasn’t realized the right guy for her (Lance) has been there all along, and that she’s wrong for having not been interested in him before. I really do not like this trope of romantic storytelling (and the ignorance it demonstrates some men to have about women).

Lotor contacts Allura to tell her the ship is ready to begin testing. Lance is instantly dejected, but I guess at least this jealous reaction isn’t one of anger and arrogance. Coran offers another round of playing, and Lance says sure.

Shiro says, “I want to be a paladin again.” So much meta on this line. It reflects how being a Paladin is so fundamental to Shiro’s character arc, and it makes that the show takes being a Paladin away from him infuriating. It also again reflects the goodness of the clone, and it makes the show declaring the clone to be an “evil thing” infuriating. And of course, Lance and Coran react like Shiro’s wanting to be a paladin (and thus the show/EPs/writers thinking Shiro being a Paladin) is somehow weird.

It amazes me that the EPs thought this episode would get viewers on their side in thinking Shiro was boring. And if I understand the broader audience reaction to this episode, that backfired on the EPs, as this episode just further reinforced for viewers why they like Shiro so much. At the least, it did so for me.

#voltron legendary defender #voltron #vld #voltron criticism #vld criticism #voltron critical #vld critical #vld season 6 #vld 6x03 #commentary

[ekebolou]

New Book: Chapter Fifteen

Sorry for the test post - had to do something to get the links to previous parts because search wasn’t working, hahahaha oh god I need to actually move this shit somewhere designed for writing soon.  Really.  Gotta get on that.

You waited all this time for this!?  Sorry, it’s a very busy time at school for me.  If I can do it at all, I’ll try to get more up today, but it may not be until later. (by the way, most of the typos are due to the fact that the New Book file is so long Word’s spellchecker has stopped functioning?  Which is a thing, I guess?  Or I need to check some settings.  Anyway, I ought to know how to spell, but fun facts, y’all).  

Prelude

Chapter One

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Sixteen

That said, here you go:

Chapter Fifteen

Generally, Rev was not one for looting; it was just more shit to carry, and unless it was a really nice rifle, he had no use for it.  Citizens were rarely in possession in rifles any nicer than the one the army had given him. Exchange, however, demanded goods. Plus, he owed the soldier who’d let him have his kit at least a little consideration.

Aster was fine, when he got back, grazing contently on the short grasses and ignoring the soldier who watched her with the doting eye of a hereditary horseman.  She lipped Rev’s hair as they enacted their exchange.

Those soldiers were fools. They had learned nothing from the march by the sea, and had no eye for the tools their surroundings offered.  This random infantryman had the great good luck of having run across Rev, but lacked the wit the appreciate it.  Rev had snatched three long cloths from those discarded on the battlefield; one, he gave to the soldier, as his due for the favor he’d done. Another, Rev exchanged for a heavy woolen uniform coat.  Perhaps Rev should have realized it to start with, but he could neither beg, exchange, or threaten the soldier’s knife away from him (foolish he might be, but he wasn’t stupid: unlike pistols, knives didn’t run out of ammunition).  As it was, the soldier looked both surprised and supremely dubious that Rev returned the pistol having never fired it.

Next battlefield spoils, he would get a knife, Rev promised himself. 

The soldier seemed amused, but not convinced by Rev’s demonstration of how to tie the cloth over his head. Apparently he had a perfectly good hat (he wasn’t wearing), that didn’t look so silly (it did).  Still, he took the cloths, no doubt to exchange them for something useless, like money. 

The afternoon was long, but Rev had something to keep him busy, and a horse for shade, when she wasn’t using him for shade.  Plus, Anik’s extra canteen still had wine in it, which was unwise but nice.  

Rev returned to the baggage and made a temporary camp, ignoring Aster’s occasional prodding as he folded himself a headdress like the ones he’d seen in the city.  With Anik’s sewing kit, he could begin to disassemble the coat. 

By the time Thespasian found him, curled up with Aster in the shade of supply wagon, he looked more like a traveling tinker than soldier, settled to rest among his junk.  Baggage with the baggage.

Thespasian wasn’t fooled, but the anger that darkened his brow didn’t breech his lips (or magnificent mustache).  Angrily tossing about their kit as he loaded it up, checking to make sure Rev hadn’t lost anything, he cast one sand-covered glower after another at Rev, then worldlessly (and reluctantly) signaled for him to follow. 

The march back to the city felt longer without battle drawing him on; or, at least, he found himself growing tired – bone tired, weary, even – as the drew closer.  Thespasian just kept glaring at him, perhaps daring him to make some allusion to his disobedience, to knowing how the battle went before they arrived, but Rev’s mind was buzzing and blank. 

Having a great, nasty hole in the outer wall somehow didn’t diminish the majesty of Niwat-Ra. Perhaps because she was so ancient, Rev thought; there were many ancient things in Sivery, but few which so much defied the land around them.  They built big walls on little hills, big towers in little valleys.  Sivery liked its land, and mountain was good enough without something built over it.  Niwat-Ra rose up in defiance of the rolling sands, the black rocks, the endless, undulating sea. 

Rev though briefly about leaving the sea behind, and was disturbed to find the thought pricked some anxious spot buried deep in his guts.  He had gotten used to it – he had gotten used to it, again – a small and contained space with all its terrible threats and endless, inescapable tension, and he had gotten used to it and missed it now that he really knew he was leaving it. Nothing could be more hateful. When they passed under the great gates, ten times taller than him, he ducked.

It hadn’t taken long for the clearing to begin.  The streets were unusually dusty, the crowds in them unusually cowed, but the signs of battle were all already tucked away.  A random storm could have caused the damage to the houses, except where a lucky ball or unlucky explosion had totally caved walls in.  But for their resentful, suspicious gazes, the people were like any other city or village trying to ignore that a war they hadn’t wanted had come anyway. 

They wound their way up the ever-narrowing streets to a central nest of buildings – an old temple, Rev guessed, rather than a palace, because many of the halls and rooms seemed disused, with air not stale but undisturbed.  There were numerous niches and alcoves, and scores of harried Felanese people pressing themselves flat against walls as the Baathians passed to open long-locked doors and brush dust out balcony doors. 

Surprisingly deep into the complex, Thespasian let an already-established troop of Baathian soldiers take Aster, the sheer displeasure on his face warning enough that they should take the utmost care.  He and Rev climbed further, until Rev thought perhaps his growing light-headed fatigue might be due to altitude.  (This didn’t cheer him up one bit).

Thespasian opened a heavy door into a set of rooms, not so disused as some of the others they passed. He threw down the kit, rounding on Rev.

“This will be Anik’s room. Make ready.”

Was his glare softer as he turned away?  Perhaps not. He certainly slammed the door hard enough.

Left alone, the last of Rev’s energy left him.  The old splicing of comfort and discomfort at being shut away, alone but sealed in, returned, but he wasn’t sure what to do about it.  Part of him wished Aster were back.

He meant to survey the room, but only saw the bed – an insulting thing, if this were one of those prudish religions.  Made wholly of pillows over a silk-rope frame, piled with silk sheets, the bed could fit a family of ten – it even had long gauzy curtains to protect it from insects and breezes from the gaping bay window, and the room’s enormous balcony.

He knew what the bed was for.

Grabbing the blanket rolls from the tops of the bags, Rev made himself a nest on the far side, out of sight of the door, where he could watch the curtains on the balcony waft in the sunlight.  He coud hear water flowing somewhere nearby, but hardly stayed awake long enough to register the noise.

 *

 The day had been long, and now the night was dark.  Anik felt slightly like a fool for having sent away the Felanese boy with the latern at the bottom of the sloped hallway, but one more sullen look – no matter how completely reasonable it was for him to look so – and Anik would have exploded. At least it was dark enough no one could see him also look like a fool as he groped his way along the wall, feeling for the door. 

All day had been one long, sustained explosion.  Most of it had been contained. 

The battle – that had been easy.  Unnervingly so.  Normally this would have been a prompt for feelings of Fortune’s favor upon their mission. Perhaps it was carryover from the tensions of the voyage, or perhaps deeper doubts, but Anik could not feel lucky. He did not feel the blessing hand of Fate on them when the Theras stationed in the city turned and ran, tossing down their elaborate, gilded weapons rather than fight an army many times their size.  He did not get a sense of victory out of the tired look of resignation on the Felanese faces who watched their overlords desert them.  He did not like an easy victory, or mistake it for a sure one.

So it was with grave suspicion he started to work his way up the convoluted chains of command and favor to try to speak with Bohdan about his misgivings.  Along the way he received more intelligence: Manas has been shot, but the bullet only grazed his head, and left him in a foul mood that made him ill-prepared to accept the honor of being placed in charge of the city. Manas would hate being away from battle, but with his wound, it was the only reasonable choice; Anik could only hope it wouldn’t be permanent.  The swarm of Felanese experts Bohdan had brought next absorbed his attention, putting Anik and his tactical concerns at the end of a long line of relief-rubbers, sand-sifters, and pursed-lipped philologists.

Then Dulal had arrived, similarly frustrated by the priorities of their commander and much less prone to try to control her temper – but after hearing her news, Anik couldn’t blame her.  Some of Dulal’s soldiers had been kidnapped by desert raiders that the Felanese called the Nitesh; those that had escaped passed tales of brutal treatment, of the sort which begged vengeance.  Anik had seen vengeance.  Anik had seen vengeance in the supposed cradle of civilization, seen vengeance begged in Baath itself, and there was no power, righteous and divine, that could salve the memory.  Dulal took little convincing, but he had his doubts that Bohdan would take action to stop the spread of such bloody, misnamed justice. 

Dulal also had greater concerns.  The Theras, not native Felanese, but client rulers, had potentially successfully delayed the invaders long enough to begin to send word for reinforcement from their long-ignored but still-powerful homeland.  Both she and Anik had noticed that even in a march so short as the one undertaken in the morning, dozens of soldiers had come down with what the surgeons were calling a heat-sickness.  Half of Dulal’s supplies had turned out to be bad, and according to her local sources, the timing of the invasion was wrong for the countryside to be completely dependable for supplying fresh food. 

Chitt had arrived and informed them both – while also waiting for an audience, now delayed due to the establishement of temporary civil authority from amongst Bohdan’s favorites – and informed them a half-dozen of the cannons had been lost overboard in unloading.  The Admiral, unwilling to lend them any of his ships’ cannons, instead promised them a boat to help bring the guns back up from the ocean floor – and rather than awaiting his appeals, was having his ships sail around the point as soon as they were unloaded so they could not be raided for guns – which was why Anik, Dulal, and Chitt were yet again delayed, as Jatin stormed into the room, nearly squashing the city’s former ruler, screaming at Bohdan.

By then Dulal was half-drunk, and had arranged a duel with one of Bohdan’s favorites, who had bumped her as he left his audience and offered an insufficient apology.  Anik allowed Chitt to precede them as he and the other second attempted to persuade their relative friends that the duel was both uniwise and not worth it.  This was difficult, as Dulal kept of steady stream of more and more offensive accusations as they negotiated the details, until her valet was able to persuade her she needed to change her coat before murdering anyone (she would forget, most likely, who she had challenged by the time she sobered up and thus everyone would get to live), and Anik was able to reassure Bohdan’s pet that Dulal had not at all meant to call him the tumerous product of prolapsed pig’s uterus dragging through the back alley of the Baathian capitol’s most infamous district for prostitution.  It could be considered a term of endearment in some quarters of her home district. 

In the dark, he found the door.  True, he had eventually addressed Bohdan, but by then their problems had so multiplied he found his initial report lacking.  Bohdan seemed to be aware of the issues, or at least he dismissed them with an infallible authority.  Then he added to them: there were no horses.

Three thousand cavalry soldiers, and there were no horses.  Any of the horses they had brought that did not belong to officers would be requisitioned for the Guides regiments, as apparently there was some local strictures regarding social status and camels.  That was what the Theras, and therefore the Felanese under the Theras, went in for – camels.  He could get a thousand fine camels with the snap of his fingers, but there was not a horse fit for riding into battle in fifty miles of the city.  Bohdan would, of course, just requisition what camels were needed, local customs be damned, to satisfy the requirements of functionality and propriety for the Guides and the cavalry, but there simply weren’t enough to go around.  The cavalry would, in large part, have to walk.

Anik had found himself losing his temper.  He opened the door quietly, shut it gently, stepped into the moonlit room and tripped over a pile of packs.  Fortunately, he’d been still in his shuffling gait from the dark hallway, and thus was able to right himself before he bashed his face into the stone floor, but at some expense of dignity as he flailed.  A flash of anger, then a cool wave of relief, as even before he heard it, he expected Rev to laugh.

There came no laugh. What had been cool turned cold, his heart beat seeming obscenely loud as he listened hard for what would not come. The sound of running water, the faintest whispers of city noise, the scrape of the curtain over the floor as breeze from the balcony brushed them inward…

In the stillness, his eyes adjusted to the light in the room – still dark, but much brighter than the hallway thanks to the moon spilling in from the balcony.  It was thanks to the moon, too, that through the light gauze of the bed’s inner curtain he could see a divot in the pillows, its emptiness the more vast for his expectation it would be filled. 

Of course, he thought. Of course.  Of course.  Of course.

He made himself move.  Brush the curtains aside, sit on the edge of the bed, start making his hands work stiffly on the buttons of his uniform. Of course, he tried again, and it was so hollow.

A dozen lovers had left him. Many on the eve of great campaigns. There was something about it – the start of something new, that required a change.  There were lovers in peace and lovers in war and they were rarely the same.

He tried to think of any other lovers of peace he’d had.  Technically – only Rev.  That was how long he had been at war.  What an odd thing it was, too, that it was only Rev. 

Uniform coat came off like shedding a pack after a long march.  He worked on his breeches as if it were normal. 

Of course he would go, though.  Why stay surrounded by Baathians?  They, as a people, were dangerous to him.  The Felanese, though strangers, were longtime trading partners of Sivery. It was reasonable to leave here, now, join what might be a good flood of Siveric people fleeing as the Baathians invaded.  Of course he would go.  He should go. It was safest.

He hissed as his boots came off, like peeling skin.  Of course it wasn’t safe enough with him.  He was not all-powerful.  He was not always present.  He was not strong enough to protect Rev, and hadn’t that been proven?  What did his promises mean, in the face of that reality? He could mean it – he could mean his offered protection with every fiber of his being – he could promise to die for a thing, but that didn’t make the thing real.  Hadn’t he learned that?  Hadn’t Papa Bel told him that?  It was well and good to die for a cause, but what could the dead do to ensure that cause continued? 

His chest hurt.  His chest hurt and he couldn’t breathe.  He felt as if taking a breath in would somehow break him, like the fragile ice still clinging tight to the spring flood.

Hadn’t he done it himself? Hadn’t he left Rev there, with the baggage, thinking, oh, god, at least here he was safe, and the battle could go on without Anik having to cast his glances back at the bloody scrum.  He had meant Rev to be safe, and safe he was, and now – now, now that he was away from this, all this, all this including Anik – he was as safe as he could possibly be.  Safe even from Anik himself. 

His breath caught.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

Anik turned, hand grasping the air where his sword hilt had once been.  A raggedy face poked over the far edge of the bed.  Squinting up from the dark, even still, Anik could see the lines etched into Rev’s face.

Anik couldn’t make his throat work to speak.  He meant to say something – something reassuring, something calm, something to help make sense of Rev’s strange excuse, something by way of a greeting, but instead his hand reached out of its own volition, offering itself over the bed.

As confused as Anik, Rev took it.

Anik pulled him up, and Rev came.  Falling back, Anik drew Rev to him, chest to back, tangling legs with legs, crossing their arms together, bundling him in tight, and finally breathed in, chin tucked over Rev’s shoulder.  If it bothered Rev, he gave no sign, but curled in to Anik’s grip, letting it grow tight as together they breathed.

Sleep would come quickly, all thought of the war obliterated, and only later, much later, would Anik start awake with the thought of what a bad thing that was for his part of this campaign.

#new book #things that I wrote #stories

[hot-topic-for-vikings]

Session 5 Recap

When we left off last time, the gang had just finished defeating a group of racists in a street brawl involving fire and puns. Now, the leader of the orc group they were defending, Siv, has suggested they move someplace more discreet to avoid the gathering crowd’s eyes. The gang (minus Belloth who was busy arm wrestling villagers or something) reaches a basement tavern on the impoverished side of town where the orcs reside.

Shadowdancer orders her usual tall glass o’ cow juice.

Shadowdancer: "Gimme the tit squeezins!"

Bartender: “Calm down...Here...”

Eff Off (Shadowdancer): [I taste it]

Eff Off (Shadowdancer): [is it cold]

Hamster Master (GM):  [its the coldest and most delicious milk you've ever tasted]

Shadowdancer: "Holy shit."

Shadowdancer drinks all of it and leaves the milk mustache on. 

The group is curious about what happened back at the town. Siv tries to explain as best as she can.

Apparently those kinds of scuffles happen often, with people that like to push the orcs around whenever they enter the town square. The mood grows even icier at the mention of Frida.

Tuile: "Have you...spoken to or interacted with the woman known as Lady Frida lately?"

Shadowdancer: "Or with the people working for her?"

As the name of the lady leaves your lips you notice how the orcs around you suddenly tense up, and the friendly smile on Siv's face turns almost sour and forced.

Siv: Ah...the lady.

Tuile: "Oh. Welp.”

Corva: "I take it you guys aren't on good terms."

Siv: Well I can't say she's very...popular among us.

Shadowdancer: "Why's that?"

The orc beside her, a shorter male, scoffs at that.

Shadowdancer: "I heard some of you had a bit of a scuffle with a few of her guards that were out of uniform."

Male Orc: She's a fucken piece of wolf-shit.

Shadowdancer: "I don't doubt that.”

Tuile: "From what we've learned, that seems reasonable." 

Despite the discrimination the orcs have faced before, Frida is the only noble to try and actively get rid of them.

Siv: When she stepped into power she immediately began renovating our homes, and at first that gave us hope of course but....then we weren't let back in. It's like she's waiting for the people to take us out...or sickness...or the cold of sleeping outside at night.

Corva: "That's awful, I'm so sorry. Who were the houses given to after they were stolen from you?"

Shadowdancer wipes her milk stache with a sympathetic expression.

Siv: Thank you...Well it was given to anyone else, really. People from the bad parts that needed new homes. As long as they weren't orcs.

Tuile tries to prompt Siv into saying more but fails a persuasion check. Shadowdancer tries and passes, leading Siv and Shadowdancer to a conversation the rest of the group isn’t privy to.

Shadowdancer: "You knew he was watching but didn't do anything about it? I suppose there wasn't much to do without looking even worse."

Siv: “He was adorable. We were going to talk to him but then they showed up and we didn't want him to get hurt.”

Shadowdancer nods.

Siv: “He was safer up there.”

Shadowdancer: "Fair enough."

The group is confused but Shadowdancer waves it off.

A room check shows nothing out of the ordinary besides the orcs regarding the group with suspicion. Shadowdancer agrees to help the orcs in any way. After a quiet discussion, the rest of the group reaches that same agreement after acknowledging that they hold no loyalties to Frida and are mostly in it for the money they were promised.

Siv then mentions a ‘Boss,’ much to the confusion of the group.

Siv: “Well if you want to help we can probably find something for you, though we'll have to save that talk for later.”

She looks at her group and they nod, all smiling.

Siv: “We got to speak with Boss first about this. Don't worry. We'll send someone to find you.”

Shadowdancer looks at the others and mouths "Boss?"

Corva shrugs.

Tuile shakes her head and crosses her arms, looking down.

The group decides it’s time to go, but not without being reminded of the goal they’ve all been striving for with all their hearts:

Camilla (Corva): [guys i reckon larry is lost forever now]

Cravin Raisins (Tuile): [:( thats quitter talk]

Eff Off (Shadowdancer): [sock keeper ate him]

Cravin Raisins (Tuile): [prOBABLY]

Hamster Master (GM): [#justiceforlarry]

Briar (Heskan): [larry is secretly some eldritch abomination and is heskan's patron]

Tuile thirsts after Siv and her orc teeth.

The group heads out for the night to sleep but realize it’s only 16:00 (4 PM) in game. They find ways to pass the time.

Shadowdancer flirts with orcs, who are very interested in her sparkling horns.

Tuile sulks in the corner and complains to Freya, her goddess. She answers with feelings of anger and sadness, which worry Tuile.

Corva spends the evening sorting through her things, looking unhappy.

Heskan does His Thing.

Shadowdancer rolls persuasion to try to convince an orc to invite her home so she doesn’t have to pay for a room. She rolls a 20. Two orcs, a muscly lady and one guy, are interested. 

Eff Off (Shadowdancer): [bye lads i'm getting dicked down by an orc]

Tuile looks at the camera likes she's on the fantasy office.

More of the evening passes with Tuile fuming to her goddess about stress baking and moral crises, though Freya doesn’t seem concerned with baking at the moment.

Eff and Ham convince Cravin to roll persuasion to see if any of the Hot Orcs will wanna spend the night with Tuile.

Camilla (Corva): [Corva isn't interested in any peen or vageen]

Cravin Raisins (Tuile): [im gonna roll a 2 and have to leave town]

Hamster Master (GM): [there's a lady orc sitting next to ya]

Hamster Master (GM): [she's glancing over at you]

Tuile rolls and gets a 23.

Hamster Master (GM): [HOLY]

Eff Off (Shadowdancer): [NICE]

Camilla (Corva): [damn]  

Cravin Raisins (Tuile): [BYE LOSERS]  

While Tuile and Shadowdancer are occupied, Heskan and Corva figure out where they’re going to sleep for the night. Both decide to spend the night at the tavern they’re occupying for 5 silver.

The night passes and the group meets up once again at the tavern’s main area. It is uneventful and Shadowdancer definitely does NOT ask Tuile is she nutted. Neither Shadowdancer nor Tuile explicitly admit they had sex with the orcs, either.

Then, the ground begins to shake.

Everyone rolls dexterity to see if they fall.

Heskan and Corva manage to stay upright by grabbing onto the bar counter.

Shadowdancer falls but is unhurt.

Tuile falls on her face immediately.

Everyone is confused.

The bartender makes a comment about the gods, making Tuile suspicious. She helps Shadowdancer pick up the broken glass from the bar, deep in thought. She gives herself a cut and is healed by Corva. Tuile recollects talking to her goddess earlier and the feelings of anger and stress she felt. She decides to try and contact her goddess again.

Slowly the feeling of anxiety spread to your body, as if it's being forced upon you. But just as sudden as it appeared it's gone again.

Heskan: "What's wrong?

Tuile: "She's angry. Scared of something. Anxious. I-I don't know exactly..."

Heskan: "What could be powerful enough to make a god scared?"

Shadowdancer: "Don't like that."

Heskan: "Me neither."

Tuile looks sick and panicked.

She heads to the door for fresh air when it opens, another person crashing into her. The figure reveals herself to be Mari!

She says she is here to meet with the group, and when questioned takes out a piece of paper.

There's only a sigil on it, a blind raven with an eye in its beak.

Mari: “We've decided to welcome your help.”  

- Goats

#campaign 1 #session 5 #session 5 recap

[chaos-societies]

Episode 3, The Journey to Cap

Sonic Tails Amy and Rouge sat around the outside of the tavern just as they had earlier the day before. Weariness from the craic of Tails’ Induction being all spent, each had a glass in hand – even Tails though being nearly two ages too young. Mina was able to sneak him one as she waited the tables that evening.

“I’m telling you all,” Sonic said to close the conversation they were having, “it was the strangest thing I had ever felt.” He left it at that but in thought went into more detail. Into detail about how the moment he saw those bones arranged so, he was chilled to the core but his flesh burned with instinct to run. How he exhaled what seemed like for a moment his last breath. How he felt like three worlds, past present and future imploded into a moment that left him frozen in time and space.

Tails swirled his drink around a bit, staring at the small bubbles of foam that clung to the glass at the wakes of the alcoholic ripples he was making. He took another nervous sip all the while looking around to ensure no one but his friends saw him do so. “Same thing for me; I don’t think I had ever felt such a cold loneliness.”

The group fell to a sorrowful silence. There was not really any way to follow up the conversation without being abrasive about it. Luckily and with convenient timing, Chuck had walked down the main road of the village. As soon as Sonic and Tails returned from the Stark Ruins and informed him of their findings he decided to set out himself to take a look. However it being so late the previous day he waited until morn. His grim and pale face upon his return did not comfort the two but they were anxious to hear what he had to say.

“Come on Tails,” Sonic said just before downing the rest of his drink. He continued with a small bubble of carbonation in the back of his throat, “let’s go see what he’s got to say!” He put his mouth in the pit of his elbow to conceal the small burp that was forming before speeding off. Tails followed in his wake with the same actions but coughed and gagged a bit after chugging the remaining contents of his glass as he was still not as used to it. He slammed down the cup and with his fluttering tails spinning up dirt behind him he zoomed to Chuck’s hut behind his friend.

“Well I guess that’s that. Surely they’ll fill us in.” Rouge said raising her drink to her lips.

“Yeah.” Amy sounded a tad down. “Call it a gut feeling but,” she paused momentarily, “I don’t like what may come of this.”

“What do you mean?” Rouge asked.

…

Tails and Sonic sat quietly as Chuck paced back and forth in his hut. There was a strange tension in the air as they anxiously waited for the old hedgehog to speak as not yet had he done so in the few minutes since they arrived.

“Chaos.”

Sonic and Tails’ ears perked at the breach of silence. “Chaos?” They stated close to simultaneously.

“That’s what is spelt out by the arrangement of bones you saw.” Chuck peered down at a little paper with the design from the ruins etched onto it. “It’s Ogham. An ancient alphabet not used in at least a millennium and by much older civilizations than what was around back then. As for the seven marks surrounding it I can only assume it means for the Seven Societies. But–” He scratched behind his quills. “–there is no reason for anyone to do this. It is pointless. And yet,” he paused again, “not sure I am if anyone actually did this.” Chuck looked back at the two as they lingered in curiosity on every word that dripped from his mouth. “I felt the same eeriness when I went to investigate after you told me what you saw. There is evil at work here.” He turned to the kitchen sink and washed his hands.

“Come on Uncle Chuck,” Sonic broke from his enthralled attention to a more down to earth stance and continued, “you saying some ‘evil magic forces’ are playing pranks on us? How do we know those damn desert Reds didn’t just want to spook us?” He didn’t believe his own words – but still wished them to be true.

Chuck didn’t verbalize the answer he had to Sonic’s inquiry but yet spoke only what he knew needed to be done. He turned to them. “There is a library in Cap, just north of the Greater Area. There’s a book there about the ancient legends and myths of the Lords of Seven. It is old and frail and not to be borrowed by the public but I have read it. I know the librarian well and she will surely heed my request for it. I want you two to retrieve it.”

“Wait…” Sonic stood up, a thrilled expression on his face. “You’re asking us to venture past the Greater Area?!”

Chuck took off his specs and cleaned the lenses on the worn vest he was wearing. He sighed, “The short answer is yes.”

Sonic jumped up enthusiastically with a fist tossed in the air. He turned to Tails who by now was also on his feet showing a bit of excitement, though not near as much as Sonic. They high fived before Chuck spoke loud and stern, stopping their celebration and bringing them back to attention. “But listen still to the long answer!” He put the glasses back on his face and turned to them. His mustache furled up then back down as he drew in and out a heavy breath. “You both know damn well why I normally forbid you to go far out of the village. You kids wandering out in the Greater Area is something I am still nervous about and it took me a year before allowing you all to do even that. Both your parents were victims of this world’s hatred and I will not let you to fall victim to it as well.

“Cap is just outside of the Greater Area and some would even argue that. The only reason you are going is because there is less dangers on the path north and I have great concern for the reason behind the vandalism at Stark Ruins. You will go to Cap, you will talk to no one, you will go straight to the library and get that book. If you leave before first light the trip up can be made in a day,” he shot a slight glare at Sonic, “at a normal pace. Eiméar the bandicoot is the librarian there. She will house you for the nights. I will prepare a letter for her and adjoin it with the sketches I made from the ruins. Same rules apply for your return. Stay in Cap only one day mostly to rest between the journeys to and fro. If you do not make it back eve of the third day, I will know you either hit trouble,” he tossed a finger at the two of them, “or you didn’t listen and found yourselves detoured.” He paused and stared to ensure the notion sank in. “Either way, I will send out a group if you do not return on time.”

“We won’t let you down Chuck!” Sonic proclaimed still with a bout of enthusiasm.

“I don’t suspect you will. But it won’t be just you two either. Amy and Rouge will be joining you.” Chuck stated. Both Sonic and Tails did not mind the declaration and half intended to bring them along anyway – with or without his knowledge. “They too are strong and if you hit any trouble out there you can use all the help you should muster. You all are close enough to watch out for each other and that includes making sure no one makes any stupid decisions.”

“Geez Chuck you really are serious about us going out there aren’t you.” Sonic said with the intent to relieve some of the tension in the air.

“You’re damn right I am.” He said flatly. “And I wouldn’t even risk it if I didn’t feel the need to. Bring me that book. You leave tomorrow; see you dark and early.”

With that, the two brothers felt the need to take their leave. They left Chuck’s hut and walked back over to the tavern to inform the other half of their new venture party.

…

[x]

It was early morn the next day and Rouge was accompanying Amy as they prepped and packed for their venture. Amy was currently in front of the mirror fixing some of her quills while Rouge was packing some of Amy’ outfits she put out for the trip. Sonic was over with Tails, likely conversing in the same fashion, which gave the two gals their own time.  “OH!” the bat exclaimed as she clutched one of Amy’s outfits before properly folding it and rolling it in her pack. “I can’t believe the old man is actually letting us journey out of this place!”

“Calm down Rouge, he wouldn’t let it happen if there wasn’t some need for it and you know that. We have to be serious with all this.” Amy spoke, always the voice of reason; committed to the task at hand.

“I know, I know. But think about it, we get to see some place outside of this place – something new. This town turns like a wheel stuck in a rut and sooner or later you can’t argue that all the spokes end up looking the same. I can’t wait to see what another village will be like. And not just a village, a city! Shops, peoples, fashion!” She couldn’t contain her excitement.

At that, Amy came into the same room as Rouge. She stared blankly at her friend before breaking down with a similar thrill. “It is pretty exciting isn’t it!” She hopped a little in her words. She ushered Rouge to relax and sit as she took charge in the continuation of packing her own things. The deed was almost done as not much was needed for just three days so she rolled the last garment and tucked it away.

They walked together to meet with the rest of their party. It was not quite dawn but the faint hue of a warm sun far beyond the horizon was proof of it soon to come. To no surprise of their own, Sonic and Tails were already and waiting by the village center. The two were talking with Chuck and from Amy and Rouge’s standpoint his finger pointing were notion enough that he was drilling a few more holes in their head on what to do and most importantly, what not to do on this trip. Vanilla was also there to see them off. Being the innkeeper, she was usually up early to tend to any guests she may have. She also a small food pack for each of them as they would be on foot until late evening.

“Good morning Sir Charles!” Amy stated so formally as was her tendency. “Hello Miss Vanilla!”

“Ah, Amy. Rouge.” Chuck answered, “I want you two lasses to make sure these knuckle heads don’t get into trouble. It’s not yet dawn and they are giving me a headache!” Behind Chuck’s frizzled mustache a playful and joking smile was noticeable. He looked at Sonic and Tails as they both chuckled. Chuck couldn’t help but give a lighthearted laugh back at the banter he tends to receive from them.

“Oh I’m sure we can keep them in line.” Rouge confirmed.

“Good. Now, I told you all yesterday what you are doing so I don’t feel the need to cover that again.” He paused, “I hope this journey is but a precaution, but in all sense take it seriously.” He looked at the youngins before him and smiled. “I’m not too sure why I had any reservations about sending the lot of you off. You’re all strong brave and beautiful and those three things alone can get you far. But do keep your wits about you. Cap is not an untrustworthy place but you know well enough from your small treks into the Greater Area that there are friends and foes and they are hard to discern. Best keep to yourselves.”

“Don’t worry Uncle Chuck, you can count on us!” Sonic said as enthusiastic as ever.

“I know I can.” He admitted and brought Sonic in for an embrace. He gave a few stern pats on the back and Sonic returned with good squeeze as well before they broke off. “Now you best be off. Get there soon enough and you might be able to enjoy some of the sightseeing.” He stated with the knowledge that that would get them on their way even the slightest bit sooner. But as they waved and turned to walk on their way, Chuck snagged Rouge’s arm. “Rouge.” He stated firmly. “I need you to take this parcel to Eiméar. Don’t,” he emphasized, “open it. It is from some long unresolved business.” Rouge took it and tucked it into her pack. “I would have trusted me sonny boy with it but he seems to be the epitome of a Cyan and I can’t let his curiosity get the best of him. She shall see its contents and no one else.”

Rouge was taken back a bit but soon composed herself and nodded in agreement before turning and joining the others. 

“I know you are worried Charles. But they are good kids with gifts and good minds.” Vanilla said to Chuck to comfort him.

“That they are. As you likely know, I just like to be a bit cautious. I am forever haunted by the fate of their parents.”

“I do understand. I feel the same way with my young Cream. It is hard raising young ones alone but you have done these kids right. Some of the older Greens here are up and stirring and we will be having some morning tea soon. Please join us and ease your nerves.”

The four departing turned back one last time and waved as they turned down the road toward the main bridge. Chuck and Vanilla waved back and with that, the four were on their way to Cap – the first place they’ve never been.

…

The distant sun was bleeding into the ocean far off the rocky cliffs of the Greater Area’s edge. Soon it would rise high enough to scab and the light that poured into the ocean would gather in the sun’s reflection. They had not made it far and the main bridge to South Island was faintly visible beyond the early morning dust at this moment. They did nothing much beyond talk as besides walking, that was all they could do.

“Hey Ames,” Sonic began, “why do you keep calling Chuck by his honorable name?”

“Because it seems I have a greater capacity for respect than you.” She toyed with him. He stuck out his tongue in a response of similar humor. “But in all honesty, I do have a lot of respect for him. He made sure my grandmother got the care she needed when we first came to South Island. Never knowing my parents, Nani was the closest I had to a mother. Ch–… Sir Charles made sure in her trailing years that, along my side, she was tended to and cared for and I can’t thank him enough for that. I still remember how much more joy was in Nani’s eyes in those last years that she found a place so peaceful and void of the hatred between Societies that we hear is so common in the rest of the world. And when I told her I wished to be a Cyan instead of a Blue like her and apparently my relatives, she even said that just a few years prior to coming to South Island her own discord with a certain Cyan Chapter would have caused her to fret. But after living here and seeing the world in a new light, she was happy for me. It meant a lot that the love from one tiny little island could do that and help an outsider like herself in such a way. And I give that credit to your uncle.” Sonic immediately felt a little somber as he knew how much Amy’s grandmother meant to her. But he was also humbled with her words.

There was a lot more talking, and even more walking, done on their journey to Cap. Thankfully for them their company kept time fast and the day enjoyable. Tails occasionally brought out his whistle and blew a tune. Some new, some quite familiar and of those the gang even joined their voices in.

Seven seas and seven skies, I've seen them all with these wanderin' eyes. But n'or better sight did I did see than that sweet island by the sea!

Cast our lot to leave or stay To find a home we hoped we prayed. Of our rove, in our last mile we found the haven at South Isle.

To this, our new found home we made, and sent away dangers each day. By Chaos if it ever fell, It'd be a sorry day in hell!

Cast our lot to leave or stay To find a home we hoped we prayed. Of our rove, in our last mile we found the haven at South Isle.

It was no hotter than it normally is in the Greater Area, which was still stifling, and they both packed and wore garments they knew would be suitable for the journey. Sonic, knowing he was not likely going to do any running as per his uncle’s request, brought along his jacket to keep the sandy wind from pelting his chest. Tails too had a light hooded shirt he liked to wear on occasion for the same reason. Anything else might disrupt his tail-propelled flight. They might have retained heat more than comfortable out in the pseudo-wasteland but a bit of sweat was always better than a lot of chafing and rashes. Rouge tossed a scarf around her head to make a headdress to keep any sand from embedding itself in her hair. Amy had no need for any head garments as her quills were not has thick or as hard to maintain as Rouge’s hair but went with her normal garment which protected her same as the others.

They stopped at a large rocky settlement a few hours after mid-day and they were overjoyed with the rest and relief. The sun was pelting their fur at this time and they camped under the shade of the towering stones to eat their packs that Vanilla had prepped for them. It was no other than Tails that was in charge of their navigation and unraveled the map he had packed to see their progress and location.

“Hmm,” he mindlessly sounded as he pondered at the parchment, “So it seems we’ve made it here, labeled clúdach.” He pointed at the labeled point on the map. He was mostly speaking to himself as the others were enjoying their meals. In most senses of land navigation, the landmarks were not always so far and in between or so specific. The Greater Area’s barren sands made the exception. So when Tails would shoot an azimuth in juncture with his map, they had to make sure they did not deviate from that direction. Fortunately they succeeded pretty well. The continued trek was much further though than what they had made through the first half of the day. It was, however, not as sparse and instead of soft sands that rolled into endless waves of dunes, it was rockier in certain areas and then opened into a small plain of as close to marshes as could be found in the Greater Area. They would likely make much more ground over the next half of the day traversing over terrain of that kind.

It was the furthest north they had ever gone as not much interested them this way. Their local exploring was confined typically to The Lookout, Stark Ruins, and some of the further edges of the Jagged Browns that bordered and ran southeast. Though they were far out of the territory for the desert Reds that resided in Rockbase there was the constant danger of running into them as their buggies made travelling through the sand much more efficient than on foot and they enjoyed harassing the South Islanders. They did not know the four were travelling though so they had no need to head their way.

They finished their meals and continued on despite their deep desire to continue to rest. They were hot and tired but Chuck gave them a timeframe to abide to in order to make it to their destination. It wasn’t an hour later and they could feel their feet landing on more sturdy surfaces. Their calves ached in their release of lactic acids through the strenuous actions of walking on sand for over half a day and though solid ground was a godsend, it was still tough work for how much they were travelling. Close to two hours later they came across a bizarre sight for anything outside of the lively island they resided; greenery. A third of a day of marching through their corner of Mobius and they had seen nothing but the tan brown and red sand and rock that was native to this part of the world. And though it was not any jungle, one or two thin green bushes per square yard stretched for miles over the plain before them. Amy even admitted that she would have never expected something like that out in the Greater Area. Rouge agreed but commented that it still was not much. They continued and found that every once in a while their foot would sink into soft and wet patches of sand and dirt showing another miraculous feat for the region.

The sky held strong an evening glow that even without the obvious orb that was descending over the far off mountain peaks of the Sléibhte Scáthaigh, the travelers could tell dusk was near. Tails had let them know that they were close but maybe still an hour’s trudge off. The land beneath them steadily got greener and denser and soon they found themselves in a wetland. The terrain seemed oddly similar to when they first entered the bushy patches – flat and smooth – but now it was covered in moss and weed that with each cushioning step was much needed relief upon their soles. Small divots and basins in the area harbored an inch or two of stagnant water which brought a fresh, clean scent to their dry nostrils. The air was denser and by it alone they almost could have been fooled into thinking they made a large circle in the span of their travels and had arrived again back at South Island. But alas they had never seen parts of the world as this.

For the first time since they waved goodbye to Chuck and Vanilla, they saw other persons. Some far off some closer, but Mobians were out in these areas crouched low, bending down and plucking some of the mossy weeds that rest below their feet. They each took some, quickly inspected it and put their gatherings into a sack they had fastened to their hip.

Sonic Tails Amy and Rouge came upon a small hill and as they did, they saw the city of Cap. They stood on the top of the hill that descended down to a tiny stream with a bridge off to the west and a port or two that sat in artificial channels to the east that caused the stream to open to a small river that fed into the ocean many miles off. The same flora that surrounded them also was on the other bank of the stream but they were surprised to see that it stopped a few yards past before the ground had a sudden change in coloration from the thick, dark green back to desert tan and red. Tails being ever the knowledge seeker and Sonic being curious enough, made note to ask this friend of Chuck’s why that was. The sun must have found a low window in the peaks of the Sléibhte Scáthaigh as the city was gleaming in the light of evening dusk.

The city seemed to have been forged up from the ground out of heavy red clay, likely from upriver of the stream. Even with the lush green wetland they traversed through over the past hour or so, Cap was still a desert city and the land north to it seemed quite similar to the rocky expanse they encountered just after their lunch stop. But a city nonetheless and the sounds they could hear even from the hill and the constant movement in its streets were enough to invigorate the gang for a bit more until they finished their task. They continued on over the bridge and into the city.

[x]

It was no doubt a much livelier place than the village at South Island. Shops and stands were lined different alleyways making some places a tight squeeze with the crowds that surrounded them. Rouge was weaving excitedly in and out from the shops, not with the intent to purchase anything, but just to see what kind of things were around. Each merchant had a cloth either lined or hung from the stand they were selling from and it did not take long for the gang to realize it was to associate them with a Society. The buyers of these merchants too wore clothes that were or close to what was likely their Society as there seemed to be a lot of yellow adorned persons buying from the stand with a yellow cloth and green adorned persons buying from green stands and so forth. Some people were not wearing any one color in particular however. Maybe it was coincidence or for some other reason they thought. But when they went up to a stand, it was obvious as to which Society they belonged. Sonic even caught a glance of an exchange of the secret Cyan greeting between a merchant and customer. It always amazed him how each Society surely had their own secret greeting and it was so subtle that it could be done in front of anyone and no one would even know.

It seemed that they had entered right into the market district of this town. Passersby were calling to them to look at their merchandise and they often tried to appeal to whatever Society the sellers were from. It was a good tactic as they couldn’t upright tell which Society people from the crowd belonged to so their shouts of ‘the best cabbage a Green could buy!’ or ‘finest clothes for all your Yellow needs!’ would bring the attention of their respective company.

One of the hustlers took a gander at Rouge and how she was browsing the products being offered and stepped in front of her path. “Excuse myself miss, I see that you are looking a bit out of place without some of the finest jewelry a White in Cap could find.” He traced his eyes up and down her figure and she immediately felt both assaulted and annoyed. “Such a fine young lass,” his brow rolled and his eyes softened, “the shame it would be if one could not know her name.”

“The shame is all mine then.” Rouge answered with a laugh. She brushed past him and gave a nudge on his shoulder as she did so.

The catcaller fumed red. “Hey, what kind of lady are you!” At this time, Amy noticed Rouge had fallen behind the group and she stopped Sonic and Tails to go back for her.

Rouge stepped back and bumped her hip into him, accidentally brushing her hand into his side. “One of a kind.” She said and walked off, ignoring whatever words he continued to spit. She joined back up with the others as she fastened a brand new necklace to her collar. It gleamed in the fading sun and the diamond or two inside the pendant glistened beautifully and bright.

“Was that really necessary?” Amy asked pointing to Rouge’s new piece of jewelry.

“Hey now, I had no intentions of robbing the poor fellow. But that silver tongue of his just sweet talked me into it.” She answered behind a proud grin.

“Guy deserves it though. The jerk!” Sonic exclaimed with a disgusted glare at the man as he faded back into the crowd.

They soon passed the hustle and bustle and entered into a less populated area. They were so caught up in the energy and awe of this new spectacle they forgot to ask where to find the library.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” Sonic stepped aside to ask a woman who was sweeping the stoop of what was suspected to be her home. She turned and glared at him as he continued, “Do you mind telling us where the library is?”

“What’re ya?” She spat with skepticism in her eyes.

Sonic was taken back a bit. “I’m sorry?”

“I asked ye, what’re ya?! Get the twigs out yer ears and speak! White? Green? Blue like yer fur?”

“Oh,” Sonic took a step back, not liking how this was developing. He glanced up above the door she stood in front of and saw a white swap of paint over it. The other doors around all too had white above them. Not wanting to risk making false identities he answered truthfully. “I’m a Cyan. We all are. We–” He tried to explain that they were not from there but she cut him off quickly.

“Ack!” She spat at his feet. “Ya awkward folk’re out far from yer ghetto aren’t ye? Leave!” She thrust her broom in Sonic’s direction and he instantly bolted off back alongside the others. They continued walking but were now extra weary.

They no longer felt a desire to ask for directions, instead just hoped they found either another market or any Cyans where more friendly folk could be of help.

They continued through the streets and though they did not find any market, they found a square with signs posted. A White chapel in one direction, a Yellow one in another, cemeteries of the likes, and finally ‘leabharlann’. They headed to it with haste as the sun had already descended behind the mountains.

[x]

They came up to it and it was grand. The structure seemed much older than the rest around. It was tan like much of the desert city but it lacked the red clay that many of the residential housings possessed. It was made of large rock that was sculpted and carved away in the style of an era long passed. Maybe three or four stories tall but there was a large spire in front of a copula that likely had a view of the far ends of the city. They climbed up the worn steps up to large wooden doors which had to have been imported as they have yet to see a tree of any kind since they left South Island. They entered.

The sight inside was almost as impressive as it was outside. The building was longer than it appeared to be and stretched off opposite to the entrance. There were spiral stairs rising from each floor to the next and the center remained open with a glass ceiling overhead, alternating in all seven colors of Chaos, which brought in the sun’s light to the interior. Sand was seen built up on the outside of the glass but it did nothing to hinder the rays that shone through. Hallways of bookshelves branched out from the center on each floor and persons were walking through with the noses deep in texts.

They each were awestruck at the sight but it was Amy and Tails who found it most impressive; inspired by how much knowledge must be housed in these great halls.

For Mobians, it was much easier to find someone they had never met if they knew their species. They walked through the great halls, Sonic and Rouge pulling back Tails and Amy respectively as they tried to wander off, until they found a bandicoot hunched over a cart unloading books into a shelf.

“Excuse me, are you a Miss Eiméar?” Sonic asked, reaching into his pack to retrieve the letter that was prepared.

The woman’s ears flicked as she turned around. “Yes? Yes I am.”

Sonic extended the letter to her and she took it. “I’m Sonic the hedgehog from South Island. My uncle Charles, sent us to–”

“Oh bloody no! I tought your voice sounded familiar.” She quickly stood up. Her snout scrunched in annoyance and she crushed the letter in hand, and pushed her cart away. “I don’t want nothing to do with dat man’s business no more!” Her accent was strong but nothing they hadn’t heard before.

“But wait! He said you’d help us!” Sonic called back.

“Did he now?” She stopped and turned to them. “If I do recall it t’was him that made a fuss like no other when I asked him ta help with me brother’s dealings in Bastard’s Bay but did he help any? No! He tell you anything about dat did he? Eh?”

Sonic  didn’t know what to say. Not only did he have no idea what she was rambling about, he was also surprised there was a person in this world that did not find his uncle in a good light. “He…hasn’t.” He finally stated.

She puffed. “Of course he hadn’t.” She turned back around and pushed her cart way. “If ye no more business in this library then I kindly ask you to leave.” The gang stood in disbelief, unsure of what just transpired. They stepped back not knowing what to do as they had not expected anything but cooperation.

They walked back and sat down at one of the many tables situated in the center area of the first floor. “Well?” Sonic asked. “Any ideas guys?”

Amy and Tails looked at each other and knew exactly what the other was thinking. “Nope.” Amy said as she stood up. “But I think while we are here, Tails and I are going to see what some of these dusty old books have to offer!” Tails’ face gleamed at her statement and the two vanished in the maze of shelves that held more information than one mind could hold.

Sonic and Rouge sat for a short while, but not too long before Rouge stood up. “Well I for one won’t sit here and mope after an entire day of walking through a desert to take ‘no’ for an answer.” She began to walk away. “I know you were hoping for a positive and simple outcome here, but I don’t like to sit around when I could get things done myself.”

Sonic was getting a bit restless as he sat by himself at that table. The sun had set and the illumination of the library had switched from natural light to candlelight. It gave a new feel to the place but the feeling was still that of history and solitude.

“Alright you lost pup!” Rouge called out after a couple minutes of being away. Eiméar is taking us in. I already found Amy and Tails and they are with her in her residence quarters in the back. Come on.”

Sonic jumped up with excitement both at the change of pace and the fact that progress was made. “Wait, how did you convince her to hear us out?” He asked.

“I asked her nicely.” She said inconspicuously. Sonic was awfully curious on what that meant but received the explanation nonetheless. He followed Rouge back to meet with the woman. He wondered though how successful they may be in retrieving a book that was ‘old and frail and not to be borrowed by the public’ as were his uncle’s words, if she was so reluctant to take them in in the first place.

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#sth #sonic au #chaos societies #episode 3 #the journey to cap #geez that took too long to post #had it done nearly a week ago #uncle chuck #sonic the hedgehog #miles tails prower #amy rose #rouge the bat