#if bastard why so climbable

[cuffmeinblack]

Look, hear me out...

#if bastard why so climbable #phineas nigellus black #professor black #headmaster black #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy screenshots

[clockwork-sparrow]

Daisy Chain

24 years ago. Garlemald.

Rainer and his son, Florus, sit side by side on a log, individually preoccupied but quietly enjoying each other's company. The kid concentrates on tying daisies together while Rainer contemplates the unkempt park with a sigh. Although there's a certain charm to how rundown it is, it pales in comparison to his childhood stomping grounds. From climbable evergreens to cement canvases ripe for chalk drawings - Rainer had looked forward to breathing new life into old joys with his son. But it's an impossibility now, just one of countless things gatekept by the people he once loved...Still loves.

In a perfect world, she'd be here too. He would've introduced her to his family, which she'd find stuffy at first, so he'd make sure to keep their meeting short and sweet. Then, they would head home to his apartment and try (but fail) to make dinner. Elbow to elbow, she'd shake her head and give him that look (the one that betrayed her otherwise dry personality) while he'd bend over to plant a kiss on her cheek. They would waltz, clumsy and slow and even now, four years after it all fell apart, he's still drawn to this hopeless vision like a lovesick fool. Rainer stares down at his open palm and traces a crease with his thumb, observing how the line merges seamlessly into a scar.

His family had presented him an ultimatum that day: to quit her and the child, or to abandon the family. They had been so ready to cover for his 'mistake,' so certain that the choice was obvious when it had been everything but. "It happens," he remembers them saying, as if his decision was instead a learning experience to move on from. But despite his family's flaws, Rainer had thought their love for him would prevail over prejudice. Funny how when push comes to shove, true colors are shown.

Rainer is pulled out of his pondering by Florus. The boy wordlessly deposits one end of his daisy chain onto Rainer's palm and presses down until his fingers curl around the gift. He blinks back initial surprise, then gives the kid a warm smile.

"Who made this?"

"Me."

"Well, it's very--" Rainer stiffens, just barely overhearing a group gossiping in the distance. Not this shit again. Rainer passes the daisy chain back to Florus. "--it's very, very nice. Why don't you go find some more stuff to tie onto it? I think clover would go well."

It's a sudden ask, but Florus is happy to oblige. When the kid nods and dashes off to hunt for more greenery, Rainer exhales softly. Hopefully, Florus would be too preoccupied to listen to the garbage these gossips will inevitably leave behind.

"There he is. Rainer Quo -- oh, goodness. Rainer Oen Celsus. Can you believe it? Living here, of all places?"

"Is the bastard child here too? I hear he's cute in that mangy, wild sort of way. Do you see him?"

"No. Huh, he can't be far." Someone lets out an overly theatrical sigh. "But anyway, going back to the subject at hand. If the Celsus family were to find themselves without an leader, do you think they would stoop to using dirty blood to fill the ranks?"

A gossiper laughs while Rainer faces forward, listening but singularly focused on the bushes where he last saw Florus.

"Of course not! Sooner collapse than do something so unseemly...Though in my opinion, they were far too lenient. That they allow Rainer to parade around with that whoreson, my word. Just think about poor Minerva! I would've taken care of the problem cleanly and left no room for interpretation."

"Right. Just." Someone makes an exaggerated sound, mimicking a beheading. More laughter. Rainer feels the hairs on his nape begin to rise, stiff with anger. This is far from the first time this has happened, but it never gets better. Somedays, he tries to let it slide and pretend that everything is okay. Today is not one of those days.

The gossipers flinch and turn to Rainer, who looms over them with an unreadable expression frozen on his face. They look to each other and back, shock shifting to nervousness and then to cautious snickering.

"Oh, pardon me. Were you listening in on our private conversation? How rude."

"Yes." Irritation makes Rainer curt. He exhales shallowly. "How rude indeed."

"Well, there's no helping that."

"Sure," Rainer replies with a cold smile. Something in the way he holds himself - a little too close, a little too still - betrays the volatile rage that's boiling just beneath his civility. One of the gossipers picks up on that and quickly tugs on the sleeve of the other, who doesn't notice and brazenly presses on.

"So, is that Florus?"

Rainer is already primed to shut down this conversation and firmly ask them to leave. He opens his mouth and then realizes, oh shit. Florus. The child is already bounding over with an armful of flowers. His steps slow to a halt as he approaches, caught between wanting to show Rainer his haul and wanting to stay away from strangers. Rainer turns and mouths 'wait there' to him while the bold gossiper kneels and makes a tutting sound, trying to lure the child over like one would lure a squirrel. Florus stares wide-eyed at the strangers and looks ready to bolt at the drop of a pin.

"Gosh, jumpy little thing, isn't he? Doesn't look a lick like you," the gossip sneers while their partner has gone from sleeve tugging to full-on frantic arm jostling. "Are you sure he's even yours?"

Rainer places his hand over the gossiper's wrist and squeezes. His mouth remains curled in a polite smile as his captive tries to shake themselves free of a grasp so tight that Rainer can feel their heartbeat. They’re scared. An icy fury rises to his eyes and his smile darkens.

"When I count to three, you’ll leave," he murmurs. It's unclear whether the gossiper has heard him. They're struggling like a beached fish.

"One."

Florus sends Rainer a worried look.

"Two." 

Rainer narrows his eyes and feels something snap.

"Three."

#art #ff14 rp #Florus Jen Celsus #Rainer Oen Celsus #Rainer is cordial until #he's not

[sirenfromthelostcity]

The Best Mistake Pt. 3: Championships And Diamond Ponies

Never in a million years would you have thought that you'd become best friends with a man like Delsin Rowe. Not that it's a bad thing, but very different from most things you've done. Certainly you never imagined you'd be filling your bag with rolls of tape and cutting out stencils late at night, all in preparation for an illicit art piece with a certain Akomish friend. Maybe that's what drew you in. Delsin isn't like any other person you've met before, he’s different. He is lively, exciting, bold, outspoken, creative, he is everything captivating, and a total bad boy. However, you never dared to say any of these words directly to his face, you already know better. It would only increase his cockiness and you'd never hear the end of his gloats. Still, you knew you'd always have a retort ready and he'd always mock right back and that was basically all part of a daily routine for you and Delsin. The roots of your friendship.

All it took was a few stencil jobs, running (lots and lots of running), coffee shops, and an aerosol can to build a relationship as thick as thieves. A relationship strictly platonic of course, that's how you prefer to keep it. You’re currently having too much fun with you partner in crime and therefore want absolutely nothing to ruin it. Yet that never stops Delsin from being his usual charismatic self, which leaves you to question yourself if there is a possibility for something more. Only to be followed by you shrugging off the question and completely abandoning the thought...at least for the while.

And so here you are sitting on the floor by the feet of your bed, cutting out stencils for your first original piece in preparation for the next day. With headphones in your ears blasting off "I Wanna be yours", by Arctic Monkeys, you start to replay the memory of your first time creating a tag with Delsin in your head.

'Are you sure this is a safe spot?' you asked.

Delsin rose from the floor with two rolls of tape in his hands and delivered you a smirk, 'Pfft yeah, totally. Now c'mon stop being paranoid and help me tape this thing.'

You complied and picked up two spray cans and handed one to Delsin.

'Ooh i love the sound when you-,' you shook the spray can and let the sound of the metal ball clashing within the walls of the can finish your sentence.

You giggle to yourself. Never did you really get tired of that sound or the smell. Now it became a habit. It’s fun.

Your phone shuffles on to the next song and so you start to hum to "Arabella,". Man, the Arctic Monkeys have good music. The music is blasting so loud from your ear buds that you’re pretty sure if someone were to walk in your room right at that moment they would totally be able to hear your music clearly. However, unbeknownst to you, Delsin had climbed up your fire escape and had quietly crept into your room.

He stands still as he observes the area until he spots you sitting below the feet of your bed, peaceful and undisturbed. Boy, was that about to change. His left eyebrow quirks up in mischief as a sudden idea hits him. Very, very carefully he begins to climb onto your bed, slowly crawling towards the end until he is practically next to your unsuspecting form. Slowly, he lowers his head to your level. By now you’re suspecting movement behind you but are too late to react before he-

"BOOO!!!!"

"AHHHHH!!!! OH!! YOU LITTLE BASTARD!" you say through gritted teeth in attempt to keep your voice low but at the moment you are more concerned with recovering from your mini heart attack.

You bring a hand to your chest and release a breath you didn't know you were holding in. Delsin on the other hand is literally rolling of laughter on your bed with a pillow clutched to his face to muffle his laughs. Unamused, you get up and begin to pelt him with your two spare pillows. Delsin is caught off guard but quickly retaliates and manages to drag you onto the bed and into a full on pillow fight.

You release a low shriek as you fall on your bed and start to thrash around, aimlessly swinging your two pillows. Amused by your tactic, Delsin laughs and mimics your comical yet potent strategy, using his spare hand as a personal guard for his face.

"Watch the face, watch the face!" he warns, " you hit the face, this friendship ends!"

"The only ship in pillow fights are championships!" you retort as you stand on your knees and ambush him with your pillows.

He lowers his arm shielding his face, "Oh so that's how it's gonna be?"

Big mistake.

Setting his guard down puts him at an extreme vulnerability, even if for a millisecond. That is all you need. You expertly cease the opportunity, hitting him with your left pillow and went in for a second hit but he deflects it with his arm and hits you with his pillow successfully knocking you off your knees.

"Okay...okay...okay," you say between breaths and laughter before collapsing onto one side of the bed with your legs dangling. "Tie?"

He releases a tired laugh and tosses his pillow onto your stomach before collapsing onto the opposite side of you, "Tie."

"How did you even get here?" you ask as you take the pillow from your stomach and put it under your neck.

"Reggie drove me," he simply replies.

You scoff, "I meant how did you get in my room?"

"Oh," he smirks. "It was a lot easier than you'd think."

"And the heart attack??"

"Okay that was just for fun and partially payback."

"For?...." you sit up from your current position and Delsin slowly rises after you.

"Foorrr stealing my beanie!" he swiftly steals the burgundy hat from your head, putting it back on his head and lays back down again.

"Aw," you frown, you had forgotten you even had it on you at the moment. It's a miracle it managed to stay on during the entire pillow fight. "Pfffftt I looked way better in it anyways."

"You'd look good in anything, babe," Delsin quickly counteracts.

"I'm not your babe," you say as you rise from your spot on the bed and carefully go back to your previous spot on the floor to continue the stencils, making sure your ever reddening cheeks are not in Delsin's line of sight .

"But you're a total babe."

You roll your eyes and scoff as you begin to cut out more stencils. "You know, you really shouldn't tempt me while I'm holding scissors. Wouldn't want anything to happen to that pretty little face of yours."

He rolls over on the bed and rests his head on his right palm to face you, "So you think I'm pretty?"

You scoff again and resume cutting out stencils, "Is there a reason why you're here?"

"Oh feisty are we today?" he finally rises from the bed and walks around your room."Y’know I love how climbable your room is. Seriously, it's like it was meant specifically for me to sneak into," he says as he picks out a book from a shelf and begins to observe it.

Without breaking concentration from your current task, you reply, "Well I’m glad the alternative to my front door suits you so well. You know my dad would never let you walk in through the front entrance."

Surprised by your comment, Delsin narrows his eyes and places the book back on its previous spot on your shelf, "Wow, (Name) thanks. Knowing your dad hates me so much that he wouldn't let me through the front door if I tried really means a lot to me," he says sarcastically as he takes a seat on your bed.

You feel a little muddled by his tone. You can't quite place your finger on it but regardless you attempt to lighten the mood a little, "Well technically he doesn't hate you, he doesn't even know you exist."

"Speaking of which, you're doing a real good job keeping your family in dark about all this," he motions to the stencils. "How does it feel?"

With this question asked, you put down your scissors and sigh, "Necessary. My mom can be understanding but my dad- not so much. Who knows, maybe one day I won't have to hide who I really am," you roll your eyes and continue to cut out stencils again. "Then I'll ride my diamond pony off into the sunset. With double the horns for double the awesome."

"Wait, horses don't have horns, don't you mean like a unicorn?"

You bring your legs closer to your chest and rest your head on your knees as you pretend to cry and release a muffled, "Let me and my diamond pony beeee."

He lightly chuckles and folds his arms across his chest, "Well you don't have to hide who you around me. You know I don't."

"That's true," you pop your head out, "you haven't changed much since the day I first met you. Don't get me wrong though, it's not a bad thing"

"Hmph. That's funny because I don't wish I could say the same about you."

Perplexed and slightly offended you put your scissors down and turn your attention to Delsin, "What?"

"Well," he says as he moves to sit down on the floor next to you,"when I first met you, I obviously didn't know you as well as I do now. We actually became pretty great friends, therefore I'm glad I don't get to say that you haven't changed much since when we first met. You're more than just a pretty girl I met by the bay."

It's become a usual habit for Delsin to flirt with you. Yet it was moments like these, when he'd act and say things like that, that would leave you lingering with curiosity. Could there be something between you two or was Delsin just being Delsin?

Regardless, you decide to play along, "So you think I'm pretty?"

"Oh I think you're way more than pretty," he smirks.

You release a low chuckle in response to his compliment. Then suddenly a clever yet cunning idea strikes your mind. You turn your body to face him and inch closer and promptly his actions follow yours.

"Believe me, pretty would be a major understatement," he adds.

"Is that so?" you learn in a little closer.

"Definitely," he purrs.

"You know I'm kinda glad you snuck in through my window tonight," you lean in more, now only mere inches separating your faces.

"Why's that babe?" He leans in closer.

You lightly scoff at his remark. If only he knew.

"So....-," you trail off to make the pretense of you closing in the gap between you and Delsin.

"So you can help me finish the stencils!" you laugh as you swiftly stand up from your spot on the floor, leaving behind a very confused Delsin to fall onto your previously occupied seat.

Realizing what just happened, Delsin releases an evil chuckle and rubs his chin,"That was cruel, (Name), real cruel."

You stand triumphantly with your arms crossed and a pout on your lips, "Aw really?"

"Very," he says as he stands up and walks over to you. "But too can play it that game," he pokes you by your rib, earning a loud giggle and flinch from you.

"What, are you ticklish there?"

"What? No!" You protest.

Not buying your protest he pokes again and you release another giggle and quick jump. Amused, he starts to poke you continuously at your new found ticklish area.

"Del...sin....stop!" You plea between breathes and giggles.

Somehow in the midst of laughing and slapping Delsin's hands away, he manages to entangle his arms around your stomach getting an even better leverage in your apparent tickle fight. For a moment you had forgotten where you are and how loud you’re being. That is until you hear a knock at your bedroom door followed by your mother's voice.

"(Name)?" She says, causing both you and Delsin to cease your actions, his arms still around you.

"Is everything okay in there? I thought I heard-"

"Uh-erm yeah mom. I just- stepped on a... lego! Yeah, yeah, you know how annoying that can be," you say as you side glance at Delsin's face hovering over your shoulder, his lips pursed and face turned the other direction to avoid your glance.

"Legos? Do you still even have those-"

"Everything is fine mom, I'll be downstairs in a second okay?"

"Okay honey."

You wait until you hear your mother's footsteps descend the stairs before breaking free from Delsin's hold.

He mockingly pouts at your escape before asking, "Did you really used to have legos?"

"Yeah..."

"Cute," he chuckles. "So did I actually. But I kept getting mad when I accidentally stepped on them. Those things really hurt like a b-"

"(Y/N)!" Your mom calls from downstairs.

“I think she needs you for something,” he lightly giggles.

"Coming, mom!" you yell towards the door. “Wait here I’ll be back in a few,” you say to him as you exit your room.

Delsin nods resumes to observing your room. He really did take a mental note of how easy it was to access your fire escape and even wondered why the thought didn’t occur to him before. As he walks around your room he notices the many pictures you have up on a bulletin board of your friends and family.

“Okay...think she mentioned you before...and you I don’t know…,” he says as he ogles the photos.

“Ah, there’s the infamous cousin of hers,” he smiles as he recalls you telling him of how your favorite cousin was the one who drove you to the Akomish reservation on the day you and Delsin first met. “Gotta make sure to thank you when I see you… in person because now you’re a photo and… okay just shut up, Delsin.”

He continues to observe your room and starts to look for any pictures of the two of you. When he can’t seem to find any he begins to feel a little disappointed until he accidentally knocks over a book from your desk and from it slips out a small polaroid picture of the two of you.

He picks it up and he immediately remembers the day the picture was taken. You two had gone out to the park since it was predicted to have been a very sunny day. And it was until it started to unsurprisingly rain. You had left your umbrella at home and so Delsin decided to use his sweater to shield both of your already damp forms. His height made it easy for him to get coverage over the two of you and that’s when you pulled out your polaroid and took the picture.

“Cheese!” You said, catching Delsin off guard but he still managed to put on a ridiculously cheesy smile for the picture.

“Oh man, this one’s a keeper!” You said as you showed him the funny photo of the two of you. Drenched clothes, outstretch arms and big bright smiles.

“Whatcha got there?” You ask as you walk into the room, interrupting Delsin’s reverie.

“Hmph? Oh I-uh found this,” he hands the photo to you.

“Oh, I remember that day,” you say happily. “We got fucking drenched but your off guard smile is priceless,” you laugh.

Delsin merely laughs and smiles as you observe the photo. However, once you put it back in the book it was originally hidden in, his smile falters.

“Why don’t you have it up like the rest of your photos,” he asks.

“What and risk it being seen by my parents?” you say as if the answer is the most obvious thing.

“Okay,” he scoffs. “It’s kinda hard to not be offended by what you just said there. Is being friends with me that much of a burden to you?” He folds his arms across his chest.

“What? Of course not I just-”

“Listen I know you wanna keep the tag stuff a secret but why do you have to hide me from everyone?”

“I’m not! My cousin knows about you and some friends too,” you clarify. “They actually kinda wanna meet you, they say you seem really cool and fun.”

“Well I’m glad the cousin and your friends approve but would it really be that bad of a thing if your parents knew about me?"

You try to say something as you just stare at him but nothing comes out.

“What?” He steps closer. “You afraid they won’t approve of you hanging out with ‘some delinquent’?”

“Hey, that's not true, and you know i don't give a rat's ass about what my dad thinks," you say, almost bitterly.

“Then why hide me?”

“Why do you suddenly care?”

“Why do I care that my alleged best friend won't even admit to me being her best friend in front of anyone else but me?!"

If his outrage isn’t seen in his eyes then it sure as hell is heard in his voice.

You briefly glance at the door before calmly urging Delsin to keep his voice down.

“No, y’know what, how about I do you one better?” He says as he walks to your window.

“Delsin, wait!” you follow him and catch him as he still has one foot in your room and the other on the fire escape.

“Thanks for the clarity on our relationship,” he says before finally leaving through the fire escape.

Again you call out his name but he either doesn’t hear you or he simply chooses not to. However, after the fight you two just had you don’t blame him if he chose the latter.

You walk over to your stencils and slump down to the floor as his words and the look of hurt in his eyes just repeat over and over and over again in your head.

“Thanks for the clarity on our relationship.”

“Oh fuck,” you sigh and rub at your temples. “What did I just do?”

#infamous second son #delsin rowe x reader #delsin rowe #reader #i wrote this so long ago and kept putting off posting it on here so here we go

[audreysl0ve]

Dark OQ: Days 2-3

This covers Getting Acquainted with the Wish Realm and First Fight.  Enjoy :)

Her magic does not work well in the wish realm, it turns out. She had thought that a fresh start meant no one would recognize her, that she could finally be free of the reputation of the Evil Queen. So when magic did not come to her that first night in the tavern, she paid it no mind. It would come back, she had mused, at some point. But for now she could just enjoy life as Regina.

There are drawbacks, of course, to having no magic. Getting in and out of her dress without help is a nightmare, it turns out (she won't let Robin help her put her dress back on, it's a level of intimacy they both haven't reached). Robin insists she let him steal her something more sensible to wear, but she will have none of it. Everything in this realm is different and she needs her own clothes, just her one source of comfort to feel herself .

For three days, other than the discomfort of dressing herself and the need to reuse the same dress, she finds the realm... easy to enjoy, even without magic. And what's not to enjoy, when your Not Soulmate is there to kiss and touch at night, and there's a whole new world to explore in the daytime?

But on their fourth day in the realm something changes. She strolls through the village as she has done everyday before, but on this day, peasants shriek and run from her as if she were the most frightening monster they had ever seen.

"What's happening?" she whispers to Robin. He looks just as confused as she does, though he doesn't look the least bit concerned.

"I'm not sure. This is a fictional wish realm, yeah? Maybe someone made a new wish and it... changed things? People cared fuck all about you before but they certainly seem to care now."

People abandon their carts of fruit at the market, running and ducking for cover, and Robin looks at her, pleased as punch as he hands her an apple off the cart. "You make my job easy," he says. "Thievery requires no skill when people leave their valuables and run away. Do you think you could do me a favor and walk into that shoe store? I need some new boots."

She rolls her eyes. It's not funny. People are running away because they think she has magic, but if they find out she does not... they will run toward her. They will run toward her with hot tar that will burn her flesh, they will either burn her alive or string her up by a tree and stone her slowly until she dies. That's the punishment for killing royalty, after all.

They journey back to Robin's camp that night, Regina aware she can no longer stay in the inn that she had called home since moving to this realm. She knew she'd end up here eventually (she was kidding herself for ever thinking otherwise), but it does seem a bit... soon.

"They are terrified of you, I can't imagine why you are afraid," Robin muses.

"I'm not afraid, I'm concerned." Regina corrects, for god's sake she is not scared, does not scare, is certainly not scared of a bunch of peasants .

Robin raises a skeptical eyebrow before reminding her, "They don't know you don't have magic. No one's going to risk confronting you given all the stories of those who tried and failed. Relax."

He's an idiot.

As if to prove him wrong, they hear the noise of an angry mob moving through the forest that night. It's mostly villagers with pitchforks and pointed sticks, some set aflame, but they are directed by... others... on horseback. Regina urges Robin to hide with her, behind a tree at the top of a hill while they watch the crowd in the valley below.

"The Evil Queen killed your King, Queen and Princess. She must be destroyed. Scour every thicket in the forest, search every home or hobble you can find... bring her body to me, along with the one who is harboring her, bring them to me dead or alive, and you shall have your reward - all the riches you can carry on horseback!"

It's Henry, and it kills her, hearing his sweet voice demanding her death.

It's not really Henry she reminds herself. Her Henry would never. But still….

"Ah, a reward!" Robin says with a chuckle. "Forgot about that. Nothing gives a man brass balls like the promise of opulence. Well, off we go, then." He urges her up, that amused smirk on his face. He's not scared, he's not panicked. He looks like he's tickled pink about this grand new adventure.

What an idiot.

"This is serious," she says through clenched teeth. "They are going to kill us and you're acting as if we are plotting to avoid a surprise party."

"And you act as if this is my first time escaping an angry mob," he chides, "come now, follow along, I know the drill."

For days, for weeks, they live like outlaws. Robin wins the argument over her clothing, and that seems to please him. She doesn't wear a frilly cotton dress, though, he steals her some leather britches and a couple of white thermal shirts she quite likes. When he finds her a fur vest it hits her - she's worn this outfit before. She's reliving Isaac's heroes and villains universe, this time with a dramatic twist, and it would be funny, if she didn't have to see evidence of how much her Not Son hates her every minute of the day.

She enjoys this Robin. Enjoys him more than she thought possible. They live in the woods, it's cold and dirty and wet, but she feels warm and safe with him. But there's a problem. She's distanced herself from him emotionally since they took flight.

She has no power. She's too reliant on him and she can't stand it. She doesn't want him to see her as a burden, or as weak. And it's hard to imagine he wouldn't see her as both of those things when she so clearly does.

She's never been the weak one in the relationship, but she is now.

Robin steals for her. Robin finds them food. Robin always has an escape route — a way to take out a wandering guard, a way to hide in the forest without being noticed.

The only thing she can do is cook, and even that is difficult, given that they are in a forest with meager supplies. Still, she wants to contribute, so she makes the most of little ingredients that grow in the forest, grateful for the time when she had easy access to cookbooks and 28 years to learn how flavors compliment each other. Robin is appreciative, it seems, though he disapproves of her cooking methods because, admittedly, they are dangerous. He tells her he is fine with charred unseasoned meat and overripe fruit, because they are safe.

"You keep spoiling me and I may become picky," he laments as he moans into a well seasoned, perfectly cooked stew. "Besides, we both know that cooking like you do is risky. Hours with a burning flame? You know the smoke gives our location to anyone nearby. No more of this, yeah?"

"No. Just because we live like animals doesn't mean we have to eat like animals," she argues.

She works on her magic every night. Spends every hour until she falls asleep trying, until tears of frustration and worry (and yes, of fear) fall quietly while Robin sleeps.

And then in the morning she throws on her simple garments and cooks.

He's right, though. She's making another complicated stew that she's been brewing since dawn when she hears the mob approach. Robin curses and gives her a look, that look, the look that says he was right and she was wrong. The look that says this all her fault, that she's ruined his life, that she's a burden, that she's…

He throws dirt on the fire and snuffs it out hissing "Come on," to her, motioning to a nearby tree.

He makes it there first despite the fact he's carrying a small bag of their supplies. This particular tree is big and tall, without branches until several feet in the air, not climbable, if not for the rope he's wound around the thick branch high above them.

"You first, now."

It's not the first time they've used a tall tree as a hiding place, but this is so close to camp…

"Here? Shouldn't we... put some distance between us and camp?"

"Do we have time to argue?" Robin asks in an angry whisper. "They could be coming from different angles, this is safest. And besides, they won't look for us here, so close to camp."

He's an idiot. Such an idiot. But he's right; they do not have time to argue. So she shimmies up the rope and he follows. He's barely had time to pull the rope back up when the guards come, inspecting the campsite.

"Fire was just put out, they didn't go far," says a guard. "Search every direction, they left in a hurry so it must be someone with something to hide.

"Someone should stay here, in case they return," says a guard, peering into the stew.

Regina elbows Robin in the ribs and hisses "You see? Bad idea, they are going to wait on us all night."

Robin whimpers in pain and rubs his ribs tenderly. "Ow. Why are you blaming me? That guard only suggested that because of your stew. Look at him, the fat bastard, I guarantee he'll eat the whole pot while everyone else is off looking for us."

He's right, unfortunately. This Robin is good at reading people, he may be crap at everything else, but... he can sense a person's motivations like none other.

And as he man helps himself to Regina's meal (it wasn't even finished, it had to to simmer for a few more hours, dammit), Robin shoots her another I told you so glance.

"Your need to play culinary queen of the forest strikes again," he mutters, "Now we are feeding the people who want to kill us, wonderful…"

He's right, and it hurts, but she's the Queen, and he should not talk to her that way. "Oh shut up," she hisses back, "you kept saying you didn't even like that stew, what are you so upset about?"

"Oh, of course I liked the stew, it is bloody amazing!" he argues, "I don't like that we need to luxurious meals, when we are running for our lives, but I guess I should have expected this while traveling with a queen. The next time I enter the outlaw life it won't be with royalty, I can tell you that."

Her face flushes red, and her heart sinks. He resents her already, it seems. So now she will go. "Well, good news, we will stay up here until the man falls asleep and then we can climb down from here, and it's the last you'll ever have to see of me."

He looks perplexed. "What does that mean?" he asks, "Where do you plan to go?"

She shrugs. "Anywhere is better than here. I'll figure it out. On my own. I'm best on my own."

Robin rolls his eyes. "Yes, you'll be better off without me, because I've been such a terror to you. Remind me again, whose fault is it that we are up in a tree?"

"Mine!" she nearly shouts, remembering just in time that she must whisper. "It's my fault, this whole thing is my fault. I've been nothing but a burden since I arrived. I'm utterly useless without my magic. I won't stay that way. I'll make it on my own. You're free of me, Locksley."

She crosses her arms and moves as far away from him as she can, but they are in a tree together, and unless she's climbing up or down, they are stuck, right against one another. She hates this.

"You're not a burden, Regina," Robin says softly, after a few minutes of silence. "And you're certainly not useless. I get it, you can't use your magic, and it's a struggle to not have such power…"

"It's not just that—" she protests, but he brings a finger to his lips, and she finds herself obeying, letting him say his peace.

"I've had… partners over the years. No one can climb a rope quite like you. No one has taken to tracking quite as fast. And when I distracted that merchant, the way you pilfered those goods without him ever noticing, I could not have done that alone, and it is not something just anyone could do. So give yourself some credit, okay?"

She hadn't... she really hadn't thought of those things as a skill. But he seems so sincere. She's used to offering so much more, it seems impossible that only contributing this much would mean anything… It doesn't feed them or clothe them or protect them as much as he….

"I can cook," she finally says meekly, and he chuckles and nods, mutters a You certainly can , but he doesn't get it, so she elaborates. "I can't do much, but I can cook. That's why… I keep insisting. It's all I feel I can offer."

"Bollocks, you offer loads more than that," Robin scoffs. "I wouldn't pick anyone else to stay by my side. To be quite honest, I highly doubt anyone could take my company for this long uninterrupted. That's why I'm usually alone." He cups her chin tenderly and looks her in the eye. "I much prefer it this way. I'll take living in trees and hiding in bushes for the rest of our lives over living my old life. So don't leave me alone again."

She blinks back tears, contemplating his words. She wants so desperately to tell him that she doesn't want to leave, that this is the closest she's been to happy since the brief time she had the old Robin in her life, when she let herself dream she'd have a family. But she still feels so vulnerable, so easily broken that sharing this with him seems too dangerous for her poor heart. So she nods, and says nothing.

Robin, however, has more to say. "I hear you at night." he says softly. He looks down as if ashamed of himself. And he should be, that's spying, he's been pretending to be asleep when…

"I didn't know how to bring it up," he explains, "you work yourself to the bone trying to bring your magic back. You don't have to. Let it come, or hell, let it stay away. We don't need it. We have each other. We're a good team without the magic, yeah? So stop beating yourself up at night. And for the last time, stop cooking because you think you need to contribute. You contribute a fuck lot just by being you."

Tears come, but it's getting dark now, and maybe he doesn't see them. Maybe. She keeps her voice steady as she whispers "Alright," into the dusk air.

He smiles and raises an eyebrow suggestively. "Also… I know we're currently in a tree, but... I miss this. " He grabs at her waist and kisses her, letting his hands wander, rubbing over her breasts down to the swell of her backside. "I know you're new to the bandit lifestyle, but once you adjust, I do hope we can resume these… activities more often."

Regina sighs, tries not to look too terribly affected (she likes when he talks like this to her, loves it, really, but she shouldn't) but can't help biting her lip as she rolls her eyes. "I guess we'll have to see if you're able to win me over," she chirps softly.

He laughs and shakes his head, tells her he intends to do just that.

The guard falls asleep after eating nearly half a pot of stew (she can take the credit for that one, Robin says, her stew is so homey and warm it can settle nearly anyone to sleep), and they escape, taking off into the forest to make yet another new start.

This time, Regina feels much stronger, and even lets herself become optimistic that this is a life that could work for them.

In three days' time, her magic returns to her, gentle, like a feather falling on her back. She feels it, feels the warm power pulsing through her.

For her first act of magic she poofs a perfectly cooked stew into Robin's hands. As he looks at the bowl, awestruck, she chuckles.

"I'm tired of playing bandit," she muses, a fake pout on her lips. "I have an idea for a new place we could go. How do you feel about yet another fresh start?"

"With you?" he asks, a glimmer in his eye. "Absolutely."

She smiles slyly and presents him with the sparkling bean she had been able to uncover with her newfound magic, and tells him, "Let's go find ourselves a home."

#oq ff #outlaw queen ff #outlaw queen fic #Dark OQ #Dark OQ Week

[teaandgames]

Devil’s Advocate - Does Platforming Work In First Person?

The Question - The basic aim of platforming, in any situation, is to reach your goal with all of the bones in your body intact. Sometimes you can grip the ledge, sometimes you can run across the walls and sometimes you can double jump. But the aim is always to land on that platform. The question is, does first person hinder that or help that? Does being able to see through our characters eyes make things easier? Does platforming work in first person? The Answers: Yes - First person allows a more exciting view of platforming. It makes it more like actual free running and less like jogging along a set course. It allows us to freely move the camera, making finding new platforms easier. No - The first person camera can’t properly capture depth, which is crucial to good platforming. As a result, it’s awkward and imprecise. It lacks the finesse and skill that other platformers provide. Fight!

Yes - Imagine, if you will, that you’re standing on top of a large ramshackle building. Below you is a horde of hungry zombies, hell bent on eating you alive, and the only thing stopping you from falling into their clutches is another rooftop a long jump away. You run, you jump and you just barely cling on to it with your fingertips. You pull yourself off and thank the lord you judged it correctly. It’s the best thing in Dying Light. First person adds all that tension because you see the ledge coming towards you, and the threats below, all up close. It’s a lot more exciting.

Traditional platforming can have its exciting moments of course. All of the sawblades in Super Meat Boy proved that, but it rarely has the same level of thrill. Free running is the kind of thing that everyone wishes they were good at but don’t have the balance - or nerve - to do. Because failure often results in some sensitive parts hitting the rail you just slipped off of. First person allows you that thrill - although I imagine somewhat diminished - without the danger of squished bits. No - The problem is that the first person camera, outside of a VR Headset, cannot capture the complexity of the human eyes. There’s no peripheral vision, so it’s hard to tell when a zombie to your right is about to enjoy some human ragu. But most importantly, there’s no proper depth perception. You can sort of judge it, of course, and some people are better than others but it’s largely guess work. Which is why, when you tried to exit a zipline early and land on a soft pile of bags, you ended up massively overshooting and shattering your legs on the rooftop.

And while we’re at it, lets go back to your rooftop example. You run, you jump, you realise that what you were aiming for wasn’t a grabbable ledge, so now you’re falling down into a crowd of hungry bastards. When you make damn near everything climbable, it’s hard at a glance to tell what you can grab on and what you can’t. This all adds together to make an experience that is generally frustrating and awkward, despite the occasional bright moments. Y - Admittedly, there are going to be a few teething problems. What to grab and what not to is a complex problem. Dying Light deals with it in a practical way, by trying to make it obvious what you can grab. Wooden ledges jut out, as do random metal bars at times, and you can always grab onto the edge of a roof. A window box, not so much. A less subtle example is Mirror’s Edge (the first one, at least) that highlighted everything in bright red. It means you have a nice route through but with the option to explore.

First person also means that the control of the camera is always in your hands, which opens up that exploration a bit more. In 2D or third person platformers, there may be a bit of exploration here and there but they act more like puzzles and secrets than real exploration. Back to Dying Light, the whole of Harran (pretty much) is open to you from the start so you’re free to map out whatever direction you want. Your primary means of exploration? Running. There are third person games with platforming that you can explore, of course, like Saint’s Row IV but that’s usually just surface deep. You’re rarely, say, running for your life from a horde of ravenous Volatiles.

N - Yet games that are entirely built around platforming generally offer more bank for your buck - or skill as it were. Take the epitome of platforming in my mind, Super Meat Boy. While there’s generally one fastest route through levels, honing your skills to reach the end is a lesson in frustration followed by beautiful joy. A hundred awkward first person jumps cannot compete to flawlessly executing a level in Super Meat Boy. There’s no depth in first person free-running, it’s just jumping and praying that you slam into something climbable.

Proper platformers require precision - where a single mistake can set you back right to the beginning - not jump and pray. Y - Yet jumping and praying is all we’d be doing in real life. I reckon free runners are just permanently terrified. It gets the blood pumping. That’s why first person platforming works. The Sum Up! Yes - First person platforming allows for a more exciting, tense experience. It may not be the most precise, but it puts you right in the action. And the ability to freely look around with the camera makes exploration a delight. No - The lack of proper depth perception, as well as clunky grabbing, makes first person platforming a chore. It’s fling and pray, rather than the skill based precision of other genres.

#Super Meat Boy #Dying Light #platformer #Mirror's Edge #Gaming #Video Games #Tea And Video Games #Devil's Advocate #article