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quitethepirategal · 3 years

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An Analysis in Threes

❥ TAGGED BY: @emcads like 30 years ago ❥ TAGGING: @riidcr @starsailingcaptain @covencrown @hookd @all-fleshed-out @evermxre @motherofredemption @bup1957 @conquistadoradelmar @seaprofound @tcthinecwnself @withinycu @windguided @daevilhorns @concordia-cum-sinistro and YOU and I spent like 8 hours on this so pLEASE READ IT PLEASE I AM BEGGING I NEED VALIDATION I’M-

repost don’t reblog. yall dont have to type this much.

MUSE: Captain Red Handed Jessica

Three Strengths:

Her adaptability and resourcefulness. Is she brave, yes. Is she lucky, also yes. But over all, she can roll with the cards she’s been dealt in a way that many would call inhumanly clever. Her intelligence, her perception, and her charisma are all different ingredients of this indomitable characteristic of hers. She can see the value in just about anything and anyone, can pick up on clues and tangents few others can follow, and can remember seemingly endless details, tho unfortunately not on command. But even then, her patchy memory seems to contribute to this adaptability as well, as it usually allows for detachment. If she can find resources everywhere, it means she can survive everywhere. There have been countless times where the wheel of fortune has suddenly turned on her and she’d lost near everything and her response was more or less Damn, ok I need food water and shelter lets go. No food? Grow food. No water? Ask someone if they have water. No shelter? Sleep outside. No money? Steal money. Can’t hear anymore? Cool I can use loud weapons. Crashed on an island? My island now. Shot? Free bullet. She knows when to push, she knows when to quit, and sometimes she knows when to gamble based on her ability ( what a man can do and what he can’t do and all that ). Strong she may be, she knows its foolish to rely on strength. Survival of the fittest actually rarely means survival of the strongest. ( edit; this is the theme for the entirety of her character. I will say it 50,000 times. I am very sorry ). And as a student of philosophy and biology, she understands that phrase better than most. Leading to our next point.

Her understanding. As I stated, her charisma is something unmatched, and is a key element in all three of her strengths. This charisma might not exist as prominently were it not for her ability to understand. She has limited ( I’ll get back to that ) but deep running empathy and while not terribly observant all the time, she is always perceptive. Not only that, but she’s personally known abuse, hardship, and uncertainty, and understands that hate or anger can be rooted in similar pain. She was schooled lightly in both Christian and Buddhist values before diving heavily into democratic philosophy, meaning she believes all being experience suffering and therefore kindness is a powerful sign of strength, but also that suffering while free and equal is better than comfort in oppression. And between her sweet words and beautiful face, she can get most people to open up in ways they themselves my not have expected. Being very good with people means she can learn from them, gain something from them, lead them, and/or use them. But Jessica isn’t a manipulator in truth; her intentions are almost always kind or healthy ones. She absolutely uses people from time to time but not EVER without them consenting to or being made aware of such because again, unlike a manipulative person, she understands that can ruin a relationship and therefore ruin a resource. What it makes for is an excellent leader, a beloved captain, and a trusted ally at most and an excellent conversationalist at the least. But her understanding isn’t just social, oh no. It’s academic as well. Armed only with his little library and the lessons of his own teachers, Jessica’s foster father tirelessly smithed her into a not just a girl who knew a lot of things, but a truly intelligent, thinking mind. He’d die before learning he’d succeeded tenfold. Jessica isn’t one to just except things as they are, facts or otherwise. She usually needs to prove it, experiment, see things from a new angle. Debates with her are fun! She has no issue admitting she’s wrong or confessing she’s never thought of it that way, and is actually wrong a lot of the time. It doesn’t bruise her ego, it excites her. It means there’s more to learn. And her ability to constantly understand new concepts paired with her ability to overwhelmingly understand people combine to make for a very powerful core idea of hers: We are fittest to survive because we all fit together. Our humanity, our empathy, our community are our strengths because they keep us united, which keeps us the fittest. No one is independent, no man is an island. People are power. And thus her final strength is just that.

Her power. While she and I still firmly state that strength isn’t everything don’t be disillusioned; its very goddamn important. And it’s something Jessica has plenty of. She is durable and clever because of her rocky early childhood, she is quick and versatile from her youth in a pirate port, she is physically strong and mighty from her years training in martial arts, and she’s an absolute crackshot after years of diligent practice with her trusty pistols. Her true strength may lie in her brains and in her allies yes, but even without them, Red Jessica is a powerhouse of a warrior. She can end fights extremely quickly or run from them without a prayer of catching her ( no shame in the later, both skills keep you alive ). And it may be in bad taste to say, but ever since loosing most of her hearing, Jess swears up and down it’s made her vision better, her reaction time faster, and her quick thinking even quicker. Yes of course she’s slowed down with age, but a bullet shoots at the same speed no matter how old you are. And you best hope she didn’t bring her firecrackers, because while sudden loud noises will absolutely temporarily discombobulate or debilitate an opponent with healthy hearing, it’ll hardly effect her at all and suddenly, you’re a sitting duck. You see those thighs? You see those calves? She can crush PINEAPPLES with them! People have seen her do it! Do you know how many micro-fractures broke and rebuilt those hands? Thousands! She can crush a trachea like a fucking beer can! She can kick you to death! One ill placed curb stomp and you are DECEASED. Sometimes she’ll just psyche you out because she KNOWS you know she can kill your stupid ass! But while her strength, mental and physical, have always been there, her power is relatively new. As stated before, people are power. Not knowledge, not money, not strength. People. She’s a fearsome warrior but she’d be useless if outnumbered. Shes a very successful pirate, but she’d never make it out of port without a crew on her ship. She found a gorgeous island, but it’d still be wild without those who built it’s piers and buildings. She manages orchards and tends to them and harvests them herself, but she would loose all of her crop without the helping hands of her employed farmers. And like I mentioned, she deeply understands this. Freedom is not independence or vice versa. Did you make the clothes on your back or the fabric that made those clothes? Did you write the books you read to make you smarter or teach you that skill? Did you plant the seed years ago that grew that orange you’re eating? No, of course not. Jessica didn’t either. Another human did. We all need each other to fill the holes in our lives that we can’t fill ourselves. Humans are puzzle pieces in that way, there is no bigger picture or prayer for survival on our own. And because of this, we can do anything we as a community, as a SPECIES work together to achieve. There is no knowledge if there’s no one to learn from, there is no money if a society don’t give it value, your money is worthless if those you’re paying decide to rise against you, your role as leader only exists at the consent of those you lead, and your strength won’t save you from a sinking ship. People are, and always will be, power. And as someone who is exceptionally strong and exceedingly smart, Jessica has slotted herself in the humanity puzzle thusly: The strong exist to protect the weak, the smart exist to educate, and the lucky exist so the unlucky may be given aid. And it is with this fairness and compassion that she has won the trust of so many. She has a great many friends and allies even outside of those in her crew or on her island. And she can make many more with ease. That kind of power is not a power to be trifled with, even if she can kick your ass six ways to Saturday without it.

Three Weaknesses:

She suffers ADHD. Now before ANY OF Y’ALL SAY ANYTHING, I myself also suffer ADHD. And yes I do say suffer because well that’s what it causes for Jessica and I, suffering. Yes, it is ableist language to say ‘suffering from’ rather than ‘has’ or ‘is diagnosed with’ and yes it perpetuates a stigma against us but god DAMN IT in both Jessica’s case and mine, it make life much much harder than it needs to be. At the end of the day, Red Jessica is a fantasy of mine; I pour myself into her whether I mean to or not. She’s the adult I wish I was, the person I might be if I had no anxiety, or brainfog, or lived in a world were I didn’t need a credit score or a degree. And even then, I can’t say I know anyone else’s problems better than my own. So if my character has problems, by sheer osmosis they are going to reflect some of mine. Both of the characters I write have ADHD because I have ADHD and I couldn’t even begin to know how a non-ADHD mind works to write it properly. And no, I’m not being dramatic when I say it causes me suffering. I can’t drive, I can’t hold down a job, I nearly flunked out of school, I still cant read very fast or spell very well, I am constantly overwhelmed by mundane things, I’m a slow learner, I forget very important things or recent things, I forget about things that mean the world to me, I forget about people, I stumble through tasks, I procrastinate hobbies and basic hygiene, and everything I do takes all goddamn day and I can only really do one important thing at a time and in order of importance. If I have a date at 4pm, I’m dressed and ready at 11am because I’ve gotta do the important thing first or else I will forget to do the important thing. I started typing this at a little before 5pm. It’s 7;30. It’ll probably be 10 o’clock at night by the time I fucking finish ( edit: l m a o its 1am bitch you thought ). I’m 26 and am just medicated enough to barely function. So yeah. Suffering is the word. Though for Jessica, perhaps suffering is a tad strong of a word. Her ADHD affects her ability to function in far less debilitating ways ( though whether that’s a result of a less severe diagnosis than me or the result of the society, situations, and responsibilities she functions in and around are far different from mine, who’s to say ). For her, she has very consuming hyperfixations that can last anywhere between weeks to decades, a spotty memory that is detail and memento oriented, she’s scatterbrained more often then not but can focus with amazing clarity on her interests or in high adrenaline situations, is is ABYSMALLY bad at math and EXCRUCIATINGLY bad with numbers ( as opposed to me, who is good at numbers but shit at spelling or reading ), she can forget anything no matter how important it is to her or to anyone, she’s bad with names and dates, is COMPLETELY time-blind, has trouble prioritizing, and of course, wile not actually that materialistic, she absolutely has the ol’ magpie instinct. While her poor memory assists in her adaptability and ability to move on, it also means she forgets things she needed to remember, like when the last time she bathed was and who this person is and what happened between her and someone else or what conversation’s shes had. Unfortunately this means she’s a very good friend and leader... while you’re around and interacting with her on at least a weekly basis. It’s almost a lack of object permanence in both a social and very real sense. If something is not right in front of her, odds are she’s not going to think about it. And while its something she constantly kicks herself for and actively tries to be better about, it applies to people too. Face to face is the best way to interact with her; she won’t think to write you and in her modern verse she won’t think to ever call and she’ll text you back in perhaps a few days. She doesn’t value you any less, I promise. She’s just either distracted or overwhelmed. Also, for someone as understanding as her, she is surprisingly self-centered. Not selfish, self-centered. She’ll talk about herself more than she should, and will assume people understand that she’s doing so as a form of showing empathy rather than bragging when they may not know this at all. Actually she accidentally assumes all the time. It was far worse when her hearing was functional; she’d finish your sentence for you or guess what it was you were going to say ( again, not to talk over, you but to show she understands you and the conversation, tho it usually came of as annoying or patronizing ). Sometimes she mistakenly assumes you believe or know the same things she does without even realizing it. Maybe she perceives the right idea off of someone but isn’t observant enough to notice anything past that. And while she is willing to change her mind about things, she might change her mind a tad too quickly. She’s an over-sharer and is horrible at keeping any kind of secret. Romantic relationships tend to fizzle out. Her impulse control is improving but has a VERY long way to go. She’s always chasing something new. All and all, when you’re a pirate, a librarian, or even a captain, all of these things may be irritating and inconvenient, but are overall manageable in chunks. ...But as a governor to her island, as a leader of an entire population... oof. In the position of leadership that she’s in, she can’t afford to make too many massive mistakes, and she knows this. ‘There is no power quite like the power of being underestimated’ is a phase you’ll hear her say a lot but for her, there is a shift in connotation. If people expect less and you do more that’s a great upper hand in any situation but for her, it was a safety net. Having ADHD sometimes means going months or years being fine and then eventually you fuck up and everyone around you wonders how in the world you managed to do that. She has only barely avoided disaster more times than she’d like to admit. Even with the resourcefulness, the understanding, and the power she wields, she’s finally starting to realize that she’s bit off more than she might be able to chew, with the entire well-beings and livelihoods of others on the line. And she fears that one day she’ll play her cards wrong and everything she’d built, everything she’s done, will all come crashing down in ruin.

She is Hard of Hearing. This one is literally as simple as it sounds: she has moderate and degenerative hearing loss and tinnitus after years of canons, explosions, gunshots, and a definitive, scale tipping attack in her early 30s. Her ears just don’t work at all like they used to. The whole world sounds like it would if everything was underwater: she can’t pin point the location of sounds, how far off or close sounds are, and barely registers changes in volume. And it only gets worse the older she gets; one day she won’t hear anything at all. And while yes, again, it might be very harsh and ableist to say, the truth of the matter that being deaf a “ weakness ” more often than its a strength. That said, it very well can be a strength. I’ve already mentioned that trick with the firecrackers and let me tell you it is a DAMN EFFECTIVE TRICK. Shes around explosions and canons and guns all the time and now she can focus while being around them five times better than she could in the past! But unfortunately it also means she’s very easy to sneak up on, she sometimes isn’t aware of danger until it’s nearly too late, no one can get her attention or warn her across any distance, it’s very easy to escape from her, and it’s easy for her to be just... left out of things. She might hear you talking, but she has little to no idea what you’re saying without sign or lipreading. Some people don’t have the patience or even just the courtesy to speak slower, or clearer, or repeat themselves a lot. Though, those last too thinks aren’t weaknesses of hers so much as they are the weakness of others, but they still negatively affect her self esteem and her effectiveness as a leader. All of this has taught her to pick her battles carefully, and plan around the elements of surprise and discombobulation. And while communication was tricky at first, it only got easier, and now she can talk to you almost like anyone can, so long as she’s looking you in the face.

That damn bleeding heart. We have established a number of things that should easily add up to an overly empathetic, trusting, fight-the-good-fight, martyr-some, idealistic pushover; she believes humanity and kindness are strengths, she has taken on the role of leader and then a provider, she has known suffering and tasked herself with ending the suffering of others to the best of her ability, she lacks the clarity of mind to assume people aren’t just as good or capable as her automatically, she can have poor impulse control at times, she wants to have relationships, and ( while I never stated this outright yet it can be inferred ), she believes that being able to see yourself in others is the foundation of humanity and ( as i did say outright ) humanity is what keeps us unified and unity is what makes us fit and strong. Keeping up? Good. Here’s the curve ball: How can she whole hardheartedly preach and believe all of this, to the point of it being the foundation of her character, WHILE BEING A VIOLENT THIEVING AND BLOODTHIRSTY PIRATE?! HOW, MANGO? HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE?! MAKE IT MAKE SENSE!! Ok, fine, sure, I will. I’m sure about one half of you are looking up from the screen and going “ Oh yeah, wow I totally forgot that bit. “ and the other half got about two and a half paragraphs in before squinting and silently calling bullshit. So let me explain. In short, she’s a detached hypocrite and is well aware and unashamed of her hypocrisy while far less aware of her detachment. I’ll cover both: Western culture as a whole seems to be under the impression that hypocrisy, despite context or importance, is automatically bad. I don’t know where this comes from personally ( my bet is Christianity but I have exactly 0 evidence ) but its a very... flawed idea. Take the freedom of speech vs racism problem; say you owned a bar where all could speak their mind freely over cold drinks. Excellent concept without context, right? Sure. ....Then a die hard racist covered in slurs and symbols walks in and orders- what are you going to do? The correct answer is to throw him out instantly. Not let him sit so long as he doesn’t cause trouble, not just ignore him and hope he doesn’t return, you throw him out. Is it hypocritical? Yep! Sure is! But it is also 100% necessary to protect your other patrons because if you don’t, the racist starts feeling safe and bringing his racist buddies, literally everyone else starts feeling unsafe and starts to hang out elsewhere, and two months later, ta da! You now own a n*zi bar and there is literally nothing you can do about it. Jessica is in a somewhat similar situation. You as a pretend bar owner need to make a decision as who to let into your bar and who to throw out for the good of all of your patrons. Jessica too is faced daily with that decision. If she want’s to help as many people as possible, the only realistic way she can do that are by protecting those under her leadership... only. She is surrounded by hateful, angry, sneaky, traitorous, abusive, or otherwise evil people. Piracy as a profession and poverty in general can do that to a person. Of course there is a clear difference between those down on their luck and desperate, and the truly cruel and twisted, but unfortunately both types of people yield the same wrongdoings. It’s absolutely her nature to extend a hand to anyone and everyone but.... she just can’t anymore. Too many times has her trust been betrayed, too many times has she gotten in peoples business trying to be helpful, only for her to absolutely bite her in the ass. Too many time the extended hand is bitten and once or twice, she’s actually made things worse. Now, she will only help someone she loves, someone under her leadership, or someone who seeks her out. That’s it. And even then, sometime it manages to bite er in the ass. But she had to set that hard limit for herself out of necessity, one she does her absolute best to adhere too and... these days she adheres a little too well. That leads us to our next point; what I was alluding to at the beginning of her Understanding essay when I said she has limited but deep running empathy. That detachment again, courtesy of a very unattached mother and unchecked ADHD. ( It isn’t a strong enough characteristic to even rank as a strength or a weakness but damn if it isn’t an undercurrent to a lot of her motivations and experiences. ) Strangers are fair game that she tries to ignore, but if she even perceives you as a threat, you could be in danger. Like anyone used to violence or perhaps anyone trapped in an us verses them mindset, she can just... flat... turn her empathy off. Not on command, she’s not a socio or psychopath persay. But she has become totally numb to the horror of violence via her warrior upbringing that, in her mind, violence can actually be rather fun. Pair that with the fact that she purposely tailored herself to only be empathetic to her allies and boom. You get a kindhearted killer. Cops and soldiers in our world do it literally every day. Actually anyone can do it really, even you if you tried. You don’t have to be evil or even angry to kill or steal or lie... you just have to believe you’re right.

Three Secrets:

WHAT SECRETS?! LMAO this bitch is the oversharing queen!! I’ve been typing and pondering her character for literal hours ( its currently 11:16, fuck you adderall ), and I still can not think of a single goddamn secret. There is nothing about her that at least five random people don’t fucking know about!! The only secrets she has are secrets she knows about other people and even then she is!! literally the worst!! She spills her guts left and right and yet she wants to be a mysterious bitch SO BAD like BABE I love you, you’re precious, but you are a dumbass attention seeking validation chasing adhd CLOWN girl!! Stop telling random people about your hermaphroditism or your dairy allergy or your dead dad or that time you fell asleep in a barrel like that is literally your uber driver Jessica honey come ooooon. I’m skipping this section mom holy fuck.

Three Fears:

What if she does wrong by everyone who trusts her? As stated at the end of the ADHD essay, she’s terrified of failing those she leads. Where it as simple as personal failure, she’d be fine. Ever if her entire world came crashing down on top of her she’d either die or start back from square one. Death is a fact of life and her adaptability means she can just dust herself off and move on, so neither her death nor her failures really scare her... But it isn’t just her life and happiness at stake, is it? Not anymore, right? What started as a leader of a small gang of rebels became a full crew, then a crew became a slew of allies, then those allies built a town and now... now she’s the governor of the Crimson Isle and there are nearly twenty five HUNDRED lives at her mercy. HER mercy. One really, really bad mistake could ruin their livelihoods or spark disorder and disloyalty. And if she died? Would whoever it is that will take her place be as good to them as she is? Is she good enough to begin with in the first place? Every day the paperwork gets a little bit thicker, every year there’s a new baby or two. And the isle has fertile soil sure but will it last? Are they prepared for a raid or a hurricane? And if Jessica trusts the wrong people, where her people right to trust her? ...can I protect them? Can I protect them?! CAN I PROTECT THEM?!

Who am I if I’m not interesting? This is, literally, an entirely subconscious fear. She’s not at all aware it exists and therefor this entry is short. But between her short time with her very unimpressed mother, her own ADHD, she is constantly hungry for attention without even realizing it. She must be interesting and intriguing and engaging, and I did mention she wants to also be mysterious. She wants not so much your input or even your validation - but rather if shes not perceived then.... is she really there? Remember, she is unaware of any of this. And fortunately she’d never been starved for attention to act out over it in the first place, even when her disinterested mother was alive. Look at her; she’s radiant, she’s beautiful, and she’s 6′4 / 195 cm shredded and covered in cool scars. Without even opening her mouth, without even her colorful clothes, she’s kind of automatically interesting. So she’s never been so desperate for attention that she acts out because she’s never been without it for very long. But it’s there. Hungry, aching, silent. Those years after the M branding were horrible and she could never really explain why. She still throws parties, organizes festivals, and talks to damn near anyone who will listen. Look at my art! Look at my library! Listen to how much I know! Let me tell you how lovely you are! Look at my scares! Look at my hair! Look at me haha, please, please look at me.

GHOSTS. NOPE. No. NO. Fuck ALL of that noise. Stay dead, go to hell, eat a dick. Red Jessica is a scientist and superstitious atheist. As an academic and somewhat bi-cultural woman she simply thinks there are far too many religions with far too much history for any of them to be considered The One True Thing You Must Believe Or ElseTM and she tends to not truly believe anything until she finds some kind of proof. Shes not afraid of the unknown, shes thrilled by it. She’s not afraid of death or the afterlife, that’s beyond her control. She’s only superstitious because she does believe in and value luck, and also its a bit of a cultural habit. BUT IF SOME SHIT STARTS MOVING ON ITS OWN OR IF SHE SEES SOME BULLSHIT IN THE CORNER OF HER EYE THEN SHE IS OUT OF THERE. OUTIE 5000. She has heard the tales of lost souls from purgatory or the eternally ravenous Pret or dangerous Phi Tai Hong or the tragic and startling Banshees or the creepy Santa Compana and she wouldn’t believe a word of it where it not for one thing. SHE FUCKING SAW ONE. She’ll never forget it, it was the first and last time she EVER attempted to plunder a tomb all Skyrim style and at first she thought it was one of the crewmean being creepy as shit until she got a good look and he was SEE THROUGH AS SHIT AND SKINNY AS FCUK AND SHE GOT LITERALLY CHASED THE FUCK OUT OF THAT JOINT. She does not CARE that some ghosts are just apparitions she does not CARE that some are friendly and trying to warn her of something if you are MOVING and DEAD at the SAME time get FUCKED. If any of y’all cringe try-hards bring a Ouija board to the party you are getting SENT HOME and BLOCKED. NO CAP.

Three Goals:

She really only has one left. Listen its... almost 1am and ive been typing since like 5pm i think i covered goals somewhere in here but ive gotta throw in the towel but even then I’m kinda being serious. Her only remaining goal is to find a suitable heir of some kind. She wants what she’s built to fall into worthey hands but she could never seem to find a good parter and even when she did she couldn’t sustain a pregnancy ( you’d think that would be a huge deal but it hardly mattered to her oddly ). So at 50 the option of having kids is out but there’s still plenty of hope for either adoption or a protege. But then again, she’s so busy these days that she hardly prioritizes it like she wants to.

holy shit i need some water...

#i.... i did it.. its done.. its DONE #...this took my entire saterday #i will literally pay yall actuall dollars to read all of this please... it took so long i dont want it to be for nothing qwq #x; EVER PLAYED CRAZY EIGHTS? { dash games }#x; QUITE THE PIRATE GAL { portrait }#x; WHY AREN'T YOU A CLEVER ONE? { meta }

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dreamdropxoxo · 4 years

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Hi! If you're still taking prompts i would absolutely love any outsider pov of lamen during kings rising or right after

Hi! Thank you so much for your prompt. This is actually my first prompt ever! So, I hope I won’t disappoint...

Gosh, I’m putting pressure on myself hahaha *takes deep breath* No seriously, I am so excited to work on your prompt. I hope you are satisfied with my approach.

Diana, the head chef of the Akielon palace, didn‘t know where he came from, but suddenly there was this blond-haired, blue-eyed, pale, incredibly beautiful, young man in her kitchen. He looked so out of place she was startled for a second.

However, she was in this kitchen for too long to let that keep her from doing her job. “You, over there, what are you doing here?“

He looked up, even more beautiful than when he had looked around before. “I am one of pets that were sent by the Veretian king.“ His voice was beautiful, melodic, strong and not like the shy whispers from the slaves. He had an accent but he was surprisingly fluent in Akielon. Well, it made sense, since he would stay in Akielos and the Veretian King was said to be exceptionally wise.

Diana could understand what someone would see in a Pet like that. She also knew her king, not personally, obviously, but there were enough stories.

“And what are you doing here in the kitchen?“

“I had nothing to do, nobody showed me the library or even the gardens and as a result I thought I‘d just look around by myself.“

Diana sighed. Yes, obviously no slave but a Pet. Whatever that meant. Apparently, they didn’t have any issues concerning lacking independence. “If you are already here, you can help, if you want. What’s your name anyway?” “I’m called Lauri. What should I do?”

The pet had clever hands, that much was clear and he was very entertaining. Diana liked him. When he excused himself after two hours of decorating little cakes, she was almost sad.

“Would it be amenable if I came over from time to time?” He sounded hopeful and looked so innocent when he asked, she hadn’t the heart to deny him.

After that he came by every two to three days and spent one to two hours in her company.

After the third time, she furrowed her brow. “Don’t you have anything else to do Lauri?” He shrugged. “Well, most people are too occupied with the nearing arrival of the Veretian King. I have a lot of free time.”

“Who is your master?” “I don’t have a master, I have a contractor.” Lauri smiled sweetly and Diana sighed. “Who is it?” “Nikandros of Delpha.”

This surprised her. Nikandros of Delpha was one of the most important people in the whole kingdom. She gasped. “And you are here helping me in the kitchen?”

“It is very entertaining. A lot more than to sit on Nikandros’ lap while he talks about border guarding and other insignificant things.” Diana couldn’t believe it. What was wrong with this young man?

“And what is so very entertaining?” “Talking to the servants. I need as much information as I can get.” “And why is that?” Diana chuckled, she really thought Lauri’s mind was twisted in so many knots it was a wonder he could still walk a straight line. The blond man shrugged nonchalant, his blue sapphire earring glinted in the light of the kitchen. “Because I have to know everything that could prove useful.”

Diana could understand it. Lauri was most likely in no safe position, especially after his contract ended. What a frightening life. “If you ever want to work in the kitchen, you can always come to me. I would employ you without a second thought.”

She somehow felt almost motherly emotions towards the young Veretian. She would have never thought that there was a Verietian who evoked something else in her than distrust. “Thank you, Diana. I will keep it in mind.”

Lauri smiled brightly and she found herself compelled to warn him. “Lauri, I don’t know if you already met King Damianos?” He shook his head, his eyes wide and shocked. “No, I didn’t. Nikandros never takes a pet with him when he meets the King.” “Good. Try to avoid meeting him.”   “Why?” He looked so confused it was beyond cute. She would have liked to stroke his golden hair and hide him away from the world.

“Because the King has distinctive tastes and you’re just what he likes. I think neither Nikandros nor the King of Vere would be very pleased if you were to be taken by King Damianos. He is a good man, don’t misunderstand me, we can be happy to have such a big hearted and kind King but you are… you are very beautiful, Lauri. And King Damianos has an eye for beauty.” She cringed internally. She loved her King very much but he was only a distant figure while Lauri stood right here in her kitchen and looked at her through the bluest eyes she had ever seen. His eyes had the same color as the summer sky above Ios. The sapphire earring the exact same shade as his iris.

“King Damianos… but isn’t he in a relationship with the King of Vere?” Diana sighed. “He is. But the King of Vere is in Arles for most of the year while King Damianos is in Ios. The hearts of men are fickle things, sweetie.”

Lauri seemed to find that very amusing. He smiled and decorated the next cake. Diana only hoped he understood what she meant. He was still so very young. How could he comprehend that his beauty tempted even the most pure heart?

Lauri came the next day again. He looked tired but very happy. A smile spread on his full, pink lips.

“What good thing happened? You look very happy.” Diana was just directing her kitchen aids when Lauri started with his favorite work of dipping the mini muffins in some icing.

“I had a very fulfilling night.” He grinned and placed the muffins on a plate. Diana didn’t think much of it, it was his job and if he enjoyed it then it was even better. Nikandros of Delpha seemed to be a very considerate master, or contractor, whatever.

When the door flew open she would have expected everyone to stand there but the King himself. She almost dropped her trowel. 

“Exalted.” She bowed low. Lauri beside her bowed too, but not nearly low enough. “Raise.” The King’s voice was deep, commanding and smooth. It was a nice voice.

Diana immediately did as she was told. She dared to look up and saw that the King had his eyes focused on Lauri. He seemingly couldn’t tear his eyes away. Diana had known it would come to this should King Damianos ever see Lauri. The young Veretian had his eyes carefully lowered to the floor but a smile spread over his lips. Diana could only watch in horror how the King came over and tipped Lauri’s head back with his knuckles under his chin.

“Now, sweetheart, what are you doing here?” The King’s tone of voice was indulging, almost amused and very very taken by what he saw. Diana bit the inside of her cheek. When Lauri smiled, she knew that every chance of King Damianos turning around and leaving the Veretian Pet in the kitchen were gone.

“I am decorating cake. Diana let me help.” Lauri didn’t even add an Exalted. Didn’t they teach the Veretian Pets how to address royalty? “Didn’t you play around here enough?” Diana furrowed her brow. Did the King already know Lauri? What was going on here?

“I don’t know, did I? My lover didn’t have enough time for me up until now, he was too occupied to prepare for the arrival of the King of Vere.” Lauri sounded almost mocking and by now, Diana had no doubt that she had missed something very important. She twisted her hands in her chiton. This couldn’t end well. Either the King would kill Lauri for his insolence or he would want to take him to his bed.

When King Damianos laughed loud and with his head thrown back, she knew it would be option two. The twinkle in Lauri’s eyes told her that he wasn’t disinclined. Poor Nikandros. She had thought Lauri was happy with him, the glint in his eyes when he arrived and his comment on a fulfilling night had lead her to that impression but maybe he wanted the King even more than the Kyros?

“Your lover doesn’t sound too bright. He should know how to set his priorities.” Lauri quirked his lips up at the words of the King. “You are a wise man, King Damianos.” Damianos still laughed. “Maybe I can tempt you to let me prove to you that not every man is so foolish as your lover?”  Diana gasped in shock, Lauri had no possibility to deny such an direct offer from the King himself. Immediately the King looked over and Lauri’s gaze landed on her too.

“What is wrong, Chef Diana?” She couldn’t even be flattered that the King himself knew her name. She bit her tongue and then forced the words over her lips. Her mother had taught her to tell the truth whenever asked and she wouldn’t start lying because her King wouldn’t like to hear the truth.

“Exalted, I am very sorry-“ She didn’t know how to continue. But when Damianos waved his hand her way she just blabbered everything out, “Lauri is the pet of the Kyros of Delpha.”

Damianos raised both eyebrows and his gaze fell on Lauri. “Is that what you told them?” “I had to get a background story somewhere.” Lauri threw his hands up and now Diana almost fainted. How insolent could the Pets in Vere behave?

“Nik would faint on the spot if he knew you spread the rumor that you are his pet.” The King laughed so hard, tears came to his eyes. He looked really handsome, his dimples made even Diana’s knees weak. Lauri’s gaze never strayed from the King’s face. The look full of adoration. He smirked wickedly, “that’s just a nice side effect.”

“Now, shouldn’t you tell her the truth? After all the things I heard, she absolutely deserves at least that much from you.” The king crossed his arms before his chest. Very nice arms, if you asked Diana, she could understand why Lauri would be drawn to him. Lauri turned to her and signaled to follow him. She did, out of curiosity and shock.

They halted in one of the storage rooms and just then did she realize that King Damianos had followed them too.

“Diana, please take a seat. What I am going to tell you, will come as a shock, but rest assured that I wouldn’t miss our easy companionship for anything in the world.”

Lauri motioned towards one of the boxes where salt was stored. Diana frowned but did as he told her. “Diana, I am Laurent of Vere, the King of Vere. I arrived here a month before my fixed arrival date and Damianos here had so much to do with the preparations of welcoming my court that I had a lot of free time.” Diana felt how her jaw fell slack. She stared at Lauri, no, His Royal Highness King Laurent from Vere.

“What?” Her voice sounded weak. She had the feeling her heart would stop in her chest.

“Take one deep breath, in and out.” Lauri knelt before her and breathed with her. She just shook her head still in denial of the obvious truth. Who else but the King of Vere himself would look so beautiful? Who else but the King of Vere fitted King Damianos’ tastes in every single imaginable way? Who else but the King of Vere would be insolent enough to talk like that to the King of Akielos?

The King of Vere had decorated the mini muffins he himself seemed to prefer. She had baked them in order to train for his arrival and he had DECORATED them. He had dipped them in the icing himself. He had placed little sugar flowers on top of them with the precision of a master and now he kneeled before her and looked at her with a smile on his youthful, gorgeous face.

“Oh by the gods, Your Royal Highness, I am so sorry. I didn’t know…” She felt how her face turned bright red just for all the blood to leave her cheeks. “I warned you to not attract King Damianos’ attention. I am so unbelievably sorry.” Laurent smiled. “Please, Diana, whenever I wear the earring, I hope I can stay Lauri for you. You have nothing to be sorry for. Your friendship means a lot to me. I would like to visit your kitchen again.”

Diana stared at him, incredulous. “You can’t! The kitchen is far below your station.” She was horrified.

Laurent stood up and turned towards Damianos. “Do something.”“Laurent, sweetheart, you dropped quite the surprise on the poor Chef.”

Laurent furrowed his brow. “Diana, please, I thought we were friends. You promised me to show me how to bake the muffins myself.”

Diana shook her head. “You can’t be serious, Your Royal Highness.” “But I am.” Laurent sighed. “I haven’t had as much fun in a long time.” Damianos smiled at her. “You know, Chef, resistance is futile. Maybe you have to see it as a way for him to get close to his Akielon subjects after the wedding.”

Laurent smiled triumphantly, Damianos grinned boyishly and Diana... she just nodded, dumbfounded.

These were the men who had singlehandedly conquered two kingdoms from their foes and were now in the process of uniting them after years of hostility. And now they stood in her kitchen and behaved like little kids. Well, as long as they were happy, the kingdom would be happy.

#captive prince #damen x laurent #laurent of vere #damen #damen of akielos #laurent #cs pacat #Prompt #Playful Laurent #give him some happiness #give him some fun #he deserves all the fun in the world!#lamen #finally #this post didn't want to be posted!#just why?

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nothingeverlost · 3 years

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The Most Brilliant Idea, or how Sirius Black Accidentally became a Romance Novelist (HP, Wolfstar)

In which Sirius has a Brilliant Idea, Remus is gainfully employed, James is clueless and Lily is always right.

Unmitigated fluff with minor references to the first war, AU because James and Lily didn’t die.

It started with the classified, the first bit of proof that everything that happened was really Moony’s fault. There was always a classified ad in the kitchen, even when Moony was working, part of his optimistic opinion that any job could and would end. The classified ads were always marked in pen, and one could tell just how Remus thought his prospects fared based on how he’d marked a job. Some were viciously scratched out (potions expert and anything with ‘night shift’ in the description) some were circled multiple times (he usually came away dejected from those interviews, things he actually wanted but rarely got) some had question marks and some had a single bold circle. It was the single circle ones that were the best prospects.

On this particular Tuesday morning while Sirius drank his tea and dripped jelly on a story about Minister Fudge’s election, the only ad that was circled was one looking for a book editor. It was commission work, the sort of things Moony did from home sometimes. It suited him, both because he was such a stickler for commas and spelling and because the flexibility meant that moons didn’t present a problem. The only downside was that it was sporadic work, a book at a time, and didn’t bring in enough income to make Moony feel like he was Contributing to Household Things. Sirius always rolled his eyes. Moony was the most stubborn person he knew.

It was then that he had his Most Brilliant Idea. What Remus needed was a constant stream of editing. Someone who would keep him employed on a regular basis with things a lot more interesting than editing a technical manual on the care and keeping of flobberworms.

“Lily I need to borrow some books.” When someone had a Brilliant Idea they had to start right away, so his first action was to floo to the Potter home. He was distracted for half an hour by Harry who insisted on a hippogriff ride and a sword fight, and he wouldn’t be a proper godfather if he said no to either, but after that it was strictly business.

“The only books we have here that you don’t have are meant for a three year old. You and Remus had quite the library between you,” Lily replied after telling both him and Harry they could only have two biscuits. Sirius took a third, but split it in half so it didn’t count. After all, two and a half was practically the same as two.

“Not true. Moony and I don’t have any of those girly books,” he said with his half a biscuit in his mouth.

“You want to borrow my romance novels?” Lily asked, puzzled. “I don’t know who you’re trying to date, Sirius Black, but romance novels aren’t actually meant to be used that way.”

“Like I need help,” Sirius said with an eye roll. Sure, it had been a while since he dated but that was totally his choice. He had a lot on his plate right now with a godson that needed his attention and Moony needing looking after and his three days a week working for Quality Quidditch Supplies. “They’re for Moony.”

“Somehow I doubt he knows that.” Lily rolled her eyes right back at him. “Take as many as you like, and don’t worry about when you get them back. It’s not like I have much time for reading when I have three boys to look after.”

“Something you want to tell me, Lils?” He looked at her stomach pointedly and wondered if they were really ready for another Prongslet.

“Yeah. You and James are more work than Harry and he has the excuse of being three.” But she gave him a bag for the books and sent him home with a plate of biscuits, warning him that she would tell Remus that she’d sent them so not to eat them all in one go. It was like she didn’t trust him or something.

Once he had the books stage one of The Plan could begin. He’d read a few of the romance novels when he was bored and they seemed like the easiest book to write. Certainly they weren’t anything Moony read so he could borrow a bit from others and no one important would be any the wiser. Over the next few days he spent most of the time Moony wasn’t around reading, stashing the books in the closet so they wouldn’t be seen in case Remus came in his room for late night chats or early morning bed sharing. It was a habit that they’d never quite left behind in school, especially when either of them had a nightmare. With the war almost two years gone the nightmares weren’t as frequent but they were always a good excuse if he needed company.

Stage Two of The Plan had a few false starts, as writing a book proved to be a little trickier than he figured, considering how many books he’d read. Finally though after twenty-six days he had a story written. The pining of Sigmund G Toadsnatch for Anastasia Flower ended in a passionate snog and a happily ever after. It was time for Stage Three.

“I need your help.” The moment Moony was gone for the day he popped around to the Potter home again, this time with manuscript in hand.

“Harry managed to get jam in his hair at breakfast and I have to give him a bath. Can it wait?” Her arms were full of a squirming toddler, anxious to greet his ‘Padfoo.’

“I’ll give him a bath,” he offered.

“The last time that happened you flooded the bathroom and transfigured the soap into a boat.” She carried Harry up the stairs. Sirius followed.

“He came out clean, though. Mostly.” He might have missed a few spots, but no one was perfect and there had been an important battle with a giant squid that looked a lot like Harry’s toes to wage. “I need to know if you have any friends that have girly writing and want to earn a few quid.” He plopped himself on the edge of the tub after stowing his manuscript on higher ground.

“You need what?” it was really quite impressive how she managed to run the bath, undress Harry, and listen to him.

“Alright, so this is the part where I have to swear you to absolute secrecy. Unbreakable vow kind of stuff. You can’t tell anyone what I am about to tell you, not even James.”

“You know James and I don’t keep secrets.”

“It’s not a big secret, just a little baby one. The more people who know the more likely it is that Remus will know that people are keeping something from him and then the whole thing will be ruined.” Besides Prongs would never let him hear the end of it if he knew what Sirius was doing.

“I will consider not telling him, once I know. That’s the best I can promise.”

“I guess that will have to do.” He was certain she’d see reason, or more importantly his side of things. “Now about your friends.”

“Do I even want to know what girly writing means?”

“You know what I mean. When you pick up something and you know a girl wrote it because there’s little hearts above the I’s and the ink changes color.” Not that Lily had ever done things like that. Her writing was perfectly sensible, not that it mattered. Moony would recognize her handwriting.

“Your handwriting is pretty fancy, with all those loops and the illustrations in the margins.” Lily made a few loops of her own, sending bubbled cascading into the tub to entertain Harry.

“One of the many skills a pureblood snob is required to learn, according to my dear old mum. Trust me I’ve tried mimicking James but it’s useless.” James wrote in a barely legible scrawl that only those with practice could read. Sirius envied him, though it had led to an accident or two over the years especially in potions and what time they were supposed to meet. “But it doesn’t matter, Moony knows my handwriting and that’s the whole point. I need someone to copy over my writing so he doesn’t know it’s me.”

“I think I need more focus and perhaps something to drink. Hold on a minute, will you?” Lily finished up Harry’s bath, keeping him long enough to dry his hair but giving up when he decided to squirm out of her hold and run away without his togs on. She shrugged. “Won’t hurt him to air dry.”

“James said the same thing once. It works better in a warm house and when you’re three, rather than when you’re thirteen and it’s snowing out.” He’d won the dare, though, and claimed it was worth it.

“Yeah, I remember that. Thought he was mental then. Now I know he is.” Lily headed for the kitchen and started a pot of tea brewing. “Now please tell me you’re not trying to get me to help you prank Remus. You know my rules.”

“It’s not a prank. It’s a Brilliant Idea to help Moony. You’re going to love it.” He couldn't hold it in anymore. “I’vewrittenabook.”

“Excuse me?”

“A book. I’ve written one and I’m going to send it to Moony to edit it, and then I’m going to pay him. But he’s not going to know it’s me so he’s going to accept the money without being his stubborn prideful self. When he’s done I’ll have another story ready and then he’ll be gainfully employed and happy and he won’t have to worry about what happens to his job when there’s a moon. Brilliant, right?”

“I’m still on the bit where you wrote a book.” Lily poured the tea and set a slice of quiche on a plate for Sirius. The spinach was in small enough bits that it didn’t actually look like a vegetable and he might not notice that under all the cheese he’d actually eaten something green.

“It’s not hard. I read the books you had and I wrote something like it. Boy meets girl. One of them annoys the other. There’s secret longing and someone trying to keep them apart and then they snog and everyone’s happy except the evil bloke who ends up in a cellar or something.” He shrugged and ate the food Lily had given him without much thought. He’d been so excited about the next stage that he hadn’t bothered with breakfast. “The book’s not really the important part, though, and there have to be bits to fix or else Moony won’t have anything to do. What’s important is that Moony doesn’t know it’s me. I have to rent an owl once it’s ready and send him a letter about a job. I have a name picked out already. Marmaduke Gaylord from Gaylord’s Romantic Press.”

“I don’t know why anything you come up with should surprise me anymore, Sirius Black. It’s completely bonkers and there’s probably fifteen different ways it could go wrong.” Lily reached across the table and covered one of his hands with her own. “It’s also unfailingly kind and possibly crazy enough to work.”

“Of course it will work.” Any doubts he’d had he’d buried down deep enough that he wouldn’t have to worry about them for a while at least. Probably not until the whole thing exploded in a very Sirius-like fashion.

As it turned out Lily did have a friend that could use a little spending money and had hand writing that, while not containing any hearts, was feminine enough to satisfy Sirius and more importantly wouldn’t be recognized by Remus. She rewrote the manuscript in her own handwriting. Sirius borrowed a typewriter from Arthur Weasley to make an official looking offer from the Gaylord Romance Publishers.

Stage Four was well timed, as Moony’s job in a muggle bookstore ended that week after the third time he’d had to miss work the morning after a full moon with no explanation. Sirius had made sure he was tucked into bed with a water bottle and a cup of tea with a warming charm that would last at least an hour, then nipped over to Diagon Alley to rent an owl for a single trip. The offer letter and manuscript were bound together. For an added bit of cleverness he’d asked the clerk to delay the delivery until afternoon so that Sirius could be home when the owl arrived.

“What could be so important about a romance novel that they’d be willing to pay this much?” By afternoon Moony was feeling well enough to be on the sofa instead of in bed. Sirius glanced at the letter Remus handed him and shrugged.

“Dunno, mate. Guess there’s enough people reading them to make it worth their while. The girls at school all read them. Tripped over them all the time in the common room.”

“They’d be better off reading Austen,” Remus groused but he was also quick enough to send off an acceptance letter with the owl. Sirius had a plan for that as well, and a newly rented owl post box.

“I’ll give you some quiet to work.” Sirius locked himself in his room, using the time to start his second novel, the story of five sisters all sorted into the same house and the rich pureblood transfer student who seemed rude but was secretly shy. The prat’s best friend was cheerful and had a crush on the main character’s sister.

“Comma,” was the comment he heard the most from the other room. ‘Why’ and ‘bloody hell’ and ‘you can’t do that to the English language’ were also common exclamations.

“Sounds like it’s going well,” Sirius said when his stomach was too loud to ignore.

“It’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever read and the romance is dreadful but there are some bits that are hilarious, actually. Don’t know their goal but as a satire it’s not bad.” The stack of papers in front of him was all marked up in red ink worse than the first essay he’d ever written for McGonagall.

“I thought romances were supposed to be all sappy.” His main character had declared his love seventeen times. That was what girls wanted, wasn’t it?

“Fortunately I’m only supposed to edit the grammar and not the sap. I’m over my head on that sort of thing. Imelda Carson seventh year said I was the most unromantic boy she’d even snogged.”

“Imelda Carson is an idiot who is now breeding pink pygmy puffs and is completely single because no bloke was romantic enough for her. Besides you don’t like girls, remember?”

“I like girls just fine. I just don’t want to snog any of them or…”

“Smash your bits together?” Sirius offered.

“Yeah, exactly what I was going to say,” Remus said dryly. “I’m starved and close to going cross eyed from this editing. Whose turn for dinner?”

“I’ll start some steaks.” Sirius danced towards the kitchen. The Plan was going perfectly.

It seemed silly, really, to have a wonderfully written and perfectly edited novel and not do anything with it. The original plan didn’t take into account anything outside of making sure that Remus was employed, but when Sirius collected the edited manuscript from the owl post it seemed a waste to just throw it away or lock it up somewhere.

“I need a name.” It was just before lunch when he flooed to Godric Hollow, finding Harry just up from his nap and more than excited to use uncle Padfoot as a climbing toy.

“You know some people do give a little notice instead of barging in all the time. There’s a lovely front door on this house I don’t think you’ve seen in two years.” Lily winced when Harry’s foot found a foothold on Sirius’s crotch, but really the man deserved it.

“Other people aren’t nearly as entertaining as me.” Sirius winced as well and moved Harry’s foot a little higher, regretting it when the lad’s next handhold was his ear. “Now about that nom de plume.”

“I thought you were only writing so Remus could have an editing job?”

“Yes, but that’s no reason not to share my genius with the world.” He waved his manuscript over his head.

“How many times did Remus threaten to throw up while reading this drivel?”

“Only once but he edited that bit out. Not even I can be perfect my first time out.” Lily, of course, rolled her eyes for approximately the 42,596th time since she’d first met Sirius.

“If you’re serious about this we should do it properly. No more ridiculous names.”

“I’m always Sirius.” He couldn’t resist. After all the joke never got old, no matter how many times Lily groaned. “Too bad I can’t use my name. Imagine how dear old mum would roll over in her grave if she knew the sacred Black name was attached to a romance novel.”

“Sirius.”

“You’re right, Lils. If she got too excited she might reanimate and the world is not ready for zombie Walburga.” He shuddered dramatically at the thought, making Harry, now perched on his shoulders, laugh and say ‘again.’ Of course he obliged.

“Leave it with me and I’ll sort it out. I’ll have Molly redo a clean copy and send it off to Mary who’s a junior editor and a publisher. We’ll see what happens, alright?”

“This is why I love you, Red.” Sirius gave her a kiss on the cheek and handed her the manuscript so he could get down to what was really important; teaching his godson how to make bubbles in his milk.

Three months later Phaedra White was a published author. Sure, there wasn’t an enormous amount of money in a single book, but it was more than what he’d spent to pay Molly and Remus so it seemed profitable enough, and he was more excited than he’d expected to see it on the shelves of the bookstore..

In the next year ‘Phaedra’ wrote nine more books. More importantly with actual connections in the publishing world he was able to recommend Moony’s services to other authors, to the point that he began to worry that if Remus had too much work he might turn down the requests from Marmaduke Gaylord to edit Phaedra’s books.

“Get the bucket, Pads, I’m going to be ill. This is the worst thing I've ever read. Not only do I want to vomit but I think my eyes are bleeding.”

“It can’t be that bad.” His own book had arrived that morning but Sirius hadn’t known that Remus had started on it already.

“I don’t know how Gilderoy Lockheart got my name but I’m never editing a book for him again. Not only is it nonsense that clearly didn’t actually happen, but it’s badly written as well.” It was hard to tell from Moony’s tone what offended him more, but it was probably the bad writing.

“Wasn’t there a Lockheart a few years behind us in school? A gormless little thing that spent more time on his hair than anything else?” They didn’t usually pay much attention to Ravenclaws, but if he remembered correctly the boy had annoyed them enough that they’d pranked his hair blue once.

“That’s the one. What he knows about defense against the Dark Arts would fit in my little finger.” Remus pushed the manuscript away. “I can’t even look at this again until I have some chocolate.”

“I picked up a new stock from Honeydukes when I was at Diagon.” Rule number one for the care and keeping of your Moony was to always have a supply of chocolate on hand. “Why don’t you grab a bar and we’ll go out for a walk. It’s beautiful outside.”

“What would I do without you, Pads? Why don’t we pick up some curry while we’re out, my treat?” It was a plan, and they left the house shoulder to shoulder. Later that evening after he’d eaten Remus returned to his work. Sirius found him laughing, his shoulders relaxed, and not a single bucket around.

“Back at the Lockheart?” he asked.

“No, I’ve given myself a respite and picked up the latest White novel. You know this bloke is improving. It’s really kind of nice to see the balance of romance and friendship in here. Less sap and more affectionate teasing.”

“I thought that romance writer you edit for was a woman?” Sirius held his breath for a moment. Did Moony Know? He couldn’t possibly.

“I’m sure that’s what they want people to think, probably because most romance novels are written by women and I’d imagine they sell better. But I’m practically certain this is a bloke writing this. If the book centered around a flying motorcycle didn’t tip me off, the fact that the details about female anatomy are more vague than the male anatomy seems quite a clue.” Remus shrugged. “I don’t suppose it really matters, though.”

“No, I don’t suppose it does,” Sirius agreed.

“I need help.” The next morning Sirius showed up at the Potter house in the middle of breakfast, not knowing what time it was. James was still home, which was not the most favorable thing that could have happened.

“Help with what?” Prongs asked as he broke a banana into pieces for Harry.

“Nothing at all,” Sirius lied. “Just a question for Lils about a girl thing.”

“Dating someone you haven’t mentioned to us yet?” James cocked his head to the side. “It’s been a while since you’ve mentioned anyone.”

“Yeah, well it gets to be all the same after a while, doesn’t it?” Truth was he hadn’t had a date in ages. His free time was taken up with writing, and the rest of the time he was with Remus, or Prongs and his family or both. Lily had them over to dinner once a week at least, somehow thinking they couldn't take care of themselves properly. His social life worked out pretty well, except for the lack of shagging. He did miss that sometimes, but not enough to bother with finding a date.

“Not when you marry the love of your life and the most perfect person in the world.” James, of course, couldn’t help looking at his wife. Sirius was torn between wanting to gag and feeling a tight ball in the pit of his stomach that he’d never felt before.

“It’s been six years since you married her, Prongs. You are going to be a little less sappy at some point, aren’t you?” Of course considering how close they’d come to losing each other it was understandable. And Sirius was happy for them, but as a sibling it was his job to raz James as much as possible.

“If you don’t like it you do know where the fireplace is, Sirius.” Lily was careful when she stood up, her belly now heavily swollen. Potter number four was due in less than a month. “Come on, you can wash up dishes for me while you tell me what you need.”

Dutifully he followed her, ignoring Prongs’ questioning look. When the water was running he looked around to make sure they weren’t followed. “I need to know more about girls.”

“Excuse me?”

“Moony’s figured out that Phaedra White is a bloke. Says there’s not much detail about women’s bits and things in there and that it sounds more like a bloke or something. I don’t know. My first thought was that I could use some polyjuice and spend an hour as a woman but that’s a month of work just to make the potion plus it tastes disgusting.”

“I’m not going to ask why you know what polyjuice tastes like. I don’t want to know who you were or when or if my husband was involved.” Lily rubbed her stomach absently. “Your books are selling surprisingly well, I wouldn’t change things now. Besides you should know at least the basics about women.”

“I know that their breasts are nice and soft, most of them like to snog, and redheads have very good aim.” Or maybe it was just one specific redhead, who proved his point by throwing a spoon at the back of his head.

“Obviously rumors at school had to be taken with quite a few grains of salt and I know some girls exaggerated because it was good for their reputations for it to be known that they snogged the ‘great’ Sirius Black” Lily’s voice was dripping with sarcasm and she stuck out her tongue for good measure. “But you did date a fair bit, and I myself witnessed at least some snogging. Are you saying you never…”

“Did the no pants dance? Nah, girls are nice for kissing and easier for dating but for the whole naked tango I prefer a blokes ‘bits.’”

“Huh. I was dead certain about you and that Hufflepuff in sixth year.” Lily shook her head, bemused. It wasn’t like Sirius had ever hidden the fact that he liked boys as well as girls. “But if you’re here to ask me about my ‘bits’ that’s where I draw the line. We’re close, Sirius, but not that close.”

“You are the best sister a bloke could ever hope for, Lil my love, and as such that is a completely disgusting idea that I would never suggest. I was thinking you might have a friend.”

“I am not pimping out my friends to you, brother dear.”

“You try to set up Remus sometimes.” And somehow each time Remus came down sick and couldn’t come to dinner.

“I worry about Remus being alone. Do you know when he last went on a date?”

“Sometimes in the seventies, probably, and he’s not alone, he has me. What could be less lonely then having me as a roommate?” Other than a bit of time during the war he and Remus had lived together since leaving Hogwarts. It worked well for them both, and honestly the idea of Remus dating made his left shoulder blade go all tense. They took turns making dinner and washing up, cleaned the flat together on Mondays and read out bits of their books to each other as they shared a sofa in the evening. If Remus was spending his time with someone else there would be less of the enigmatic little half smile that made his day better. And at some point Moony would have to share his furry little secret and what if they took it badly and hurt him? Or worse, spread it about? Sirius would have to kill them and then he’d go to Azkaban and then Remus really would be alone. It would be a disaster.

“Sirius have you ever considered…” Lily stopped, wincing a little and struggling to pull herself up. “This little one has great aim and likes to kick mummy’s bladder. You’ll have to excuse us, Sirius. And find your own dates.”

He did find his own dates. Three of them, in the next month, and twice with the girl from the local coffee shop. And though the snogging was nice he just couldn’t get interested enough in taking it farther, not even in the name of research. Sighing he decided he was just going to have to keep doing what he was doing. Besides, having Moony suspect that a romance novelist was a man was a far sight from having him suspect that it was the man he lived with so he was still safe enough. After all who in their right mind would think that Sirius Black was writing romance novels?

When he got home from his last date he found a note stuck to his door in Moony’s careful hand. The word ‘St Mungo’s’ might have worried him if not for the ‘Baby Potter on the way’ underneath. He took a minute to change into something more comfortable, remembering that Harry had taken hours to arrive, and apparated to the maternity ward.

“You brought work with you?” Remus was already there, sitting in the waiting room with a quill in one hand and a stack of pages on his lap.

“You know how long Harry took to make an appearance. Might as well pass the time in a useful manner.” Remus looked up at him, head cocked to the side. “How was the date?”

“Bit boring, to be honest. I think I’m out of practice.” Dating used to be more interesting, but halfway through he’d found himself wishing that he was on the sofa throwing popcorn at Remus and asking about his latest book. The editing of the Lockhart book and its ridiculous lies was keeping him well entertained. “Speaking of the sprog, where is my favorite godson?”

“Lily’s friend Molly has him. The one will all the redhead kids, you remember?”

“Yeah.” Molly happened to be the friend that rewrote everything he wrote. No reason for that to make him nervous, though. “She was Gid and Fab’s big sister.”

“Yeah, she was.” It was never easy to think of the casualties of the war so Sirius tried not to think of them, not even the ones with hair and hearts like fire who he’d shagged once. Gideon had been one of his first crushes in school, and a compatriot in war.

“What are we working on tonight?” Sirius tried to take a look at his papers. “Anything good?”

“Something very frustrating, at the moment. The latest Phaedra White.”

“I thought you said her books were getting better. Seemed to me you quite enjoyed the last one.” He took great pride in the fact that he’d made Moony laugh more than once, and that it came back with hardly any notes other than the usual missing commas and split infinitives. The ending, Moony had declared, was only as sappy as was necessary for that sort of story and not bad at all.

“It’s stupid. I’m just the editor, there’s no reason for the direction of the plot to bother me so much.” Sighing, Remus put the quill down.

“I’m sure the author is grateful for your notes. You said she’s listened to them before, hasn’t she?” Of course he knew the answer. He’d written three thank you notes for changes the Remus had suggested, and every time Remus had been right. Merlin’s pants, Phaedra White was actually making best seller lists and had been mentioned in Witches Weekly twice, and Sirius wasn’t too full of himself to know how big a part Moony played in that. His publisher was trying to make him do a book signing at Flourish and Blotts, and didn’t understand why he kept saying no to the publicity.

“This isn’t the same situation. It’s not a small change to a scene, it’s the whole romance that feels wrong.”

“You read me a bit the other night, between the bloke and his best mate that made you laugh.” He’d found the byplay between his main character and his friend to be the most fun part of the book to write.

“That’s the whole problem. Byron and George have this great relationship. The scene where George is trying to convince Byron to go on the date feels almost like…”

“Like what?” There were times that Sirius totally wished he could talk through scenes with Remus while he was writing. He’d had to bite his tongue more than once when he remembered that he hadn’t sent a story to Moony to edit yet.

“Like he was trying to cover his own feelings for his friend. The chemistry between the two blokes is more natural and interesting then the bits with Byron and Melody.” Remus picked up his quill again. “Now you see why I can’t write that suggestion. I’m not about to tell someone to trash half their story and turn it into a gay romance.”

“Moony, w-”

“She’s here.” The door to the waiting room crashed open and Prongs came running out, tripping over his feet in his hurry. “I’m a dad.”

“You’ve been a dad for almost five years, Prongs,” Sirius couldn’t help but tease him.

“But never to a girl.” It was funny how big Prongs’ eyes could get. “Merlin’s elbow, I have a daughter.”

“Most of the bits are the same, mate. You’ll be alright.” Remus shoved his papers and quill into a bag and took out a flask. “I think this calls for a drink. Not too much, or Lily will kill us all, but just to celebrate.”

“You think of everything, Moons.” Sirius shouldn’t have been surprised, it was very like Remus, but there was something about drinking out of the flask immediately after Moony’s lips had touched it that felt different.

“You’re brilliant, both of you. In a minute we can all go in and you can meet my daughter.”

“Poor Lils, she’s got three kids on her hands now.” Sirius pointed to the dopey looking expression on Prongs’ face.

“I think you mean four kid, Pads. After all she has to deal with you as well.”

“Her name is Olivia Marlene.” Lily had that exhausted but happy glow of a new mother when they were let in to see her. The baby she held looked pretty much the same as Harry the first time they’d seen him, the dark hair on the top of her head and the splotchy looking face.

“It’s a good name. Strong.” Moony nodded solemnly. “Marlene would have been proud.”

“Marlene would have rolled her eyes and called me daff,” Lily said with only a hint of moisture in her own eyes. “But if my daughter is half as fierce she’ll be able to do anything.”

“Moony, ready to say hello?” James took his daughter from Lily and held her close to his chest.

“Let Sirius go first, I’ll hold her in a minute.” Sirius had been the first five years ago, when Harry had been born.

“Sirius will have his turn but it should be her godfather first, Remus.” When Lily spoke Sirius had the good fortune to be looking at Remus. The look on his face and the way his knees buckled were priceless.

“Alright there mate?” Sirius caught him around the waist and helped him to stand up again. “Welcome to the club, by the way.”

“So will you, Moony?” James looked at him expectantly.

“I think you’re mental to ask me.” But Remus carefully took the baby and held her, touching her cheek with a single finger. Sirius felt for a moment like he’s turned into liquid marshmallow, watching the two of them.

“Welcome to the world, Olivia Potter,” Remus said softly.

It was in that moment that Sirius Black, author of almost seventeen romance novels, realized that he was in love with his best friend.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave the country.” Somehow Sirius made it through the next week. He wasn’t sure how but it seemed only fair to give Lily a bit of recovery time before bothering her. A week was as long as he could wait, though, and on the eighth day he flooed over.

“That’s a bit of a dramatic reaction to not being chosen as godfather for our Olivia.”

“What? No, of course you should have gone with Moony. Brilliant choice. Probably should have picked him for Harry, bit of an unfair advantage Olivia has.” Sirius flopped down on the armchair across from Lily. “Where are the sprogs, by the way?”

“Baby’s sleeping. Harry and James are at the park so Harry can run off some energy.”

“Prongs is probably the one that needs to run off the energy. He’s walking on clouds, that one. Reminds me of the week after you finally said yes to a date.” Sirius was pretty sure James hadn’t slept for two days straight. For a week he also hadn’t shut up, even when he did finally sleep. He’d been well stuck on Lily long before they’d dated. Sirius finally had an idea of what that was like.

“Probably. Now tell me what you’re running from.” Lily put on her best getting-ready-to-mock-you expression.

“Nothing really, only the most stupid thing I’ve probably ever done.”

“I’ve seen some of the stupidest things you’ve done, Sirius. Many of them. Unless you’re going to tell me you have to flee the country because aurors are after you I very much doubt it’s as bad as you think.”

“I’vefalleninlovewithMoony.”

“I’m going to need you to actually take a breath at some point, sweetie. You’re going to turn purple if you don’t and then I’m going to have to explain to James and Harry why you’ve passed out on the floor.” Lily patted the empty seat on the sofa next to her. “Now come over here, take a breath, and tell me again what you said.”

Sirius, erring on the side of caution, took three breaths, decided that wasn’t enough, and took three more. “I’ve fallen in love with Moony.”

“Now there, wasn’t that easier to say the second time?”

“You knew perfectly well what I said.” Sirius narrowed his eyes. “You tricked me.”

“Only for your own good.” She leaned in and wrapped her arms around him. “I know this bit is scary but you’re going to get through it and you’re going to do it without fleeing the country.”

“Didn’t you hear what I said?” Maybe having a baby did something odd to your ears.

“You’ve finally figured out that you’re in love with Remus.”

“Finally?” Sirius stared at her.

“Finally,” she confirmed. “Other than this month because of your crazy idea about your books, when was the last time you dated?”

“Dunno. That carpenter maybe?” Sirius had wanted to find out just what else he could do with his hands. The answer was quite a bit. Unfortunately not so much in the brain department and even less in the sense of humor department.

“That was three years ago. What is Remus’s favorite dinner?”

“Steak with mashed potatoes and lots of gravy, popovers, peas.” It was a meal he liked to make a day or two before a full moon when Moony was feeling a bit low.

“And for dessert?”

“Chocolate, of course. I found a chocolate fondant recipe the other day I thought I might try.” Moony was happy to have a chocolate bar but Sirius liked to find new desserts to try. Moony was always pleased when there was a new dessert.

“Who is the first person you see on Christmas morning and whose present do you spend the most time picking out?”

“Moony, of course. We live together.” Last year Moony had put a ridiculous ten galleon restriction on gifts, insisting he didn’t need anything extravagant. His silly Moony hadn’t thought to specify that it was only a single gift, though. Sirius had brought thirteen, but they were all under ten galleons each.

“And when you’ve had a really shitty day who is the first person you seek out?”

“Moony.”

“And when something wonderful happens who is the first person you want to tell?”

“Moony.”

“Are we seeing a pattern yet? And before you tell me it’s just being friends let me remind you that you have created a whole career for yourself solely because you wanted to make sure that Remus had work that he could take pride in. The entire existence of Phaedra White is basically one really long love letter, which is a bit over the top even for you.”

“I’ve been in love with Moony this whole time?” It didn’t feel wrong when he said it. Maybe later he’d be able to look back and figure out when exactly it all started, but for now it seemed to be enough that it was true. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You were always going to figure it out in your own time. I couldn’t make you go any faster and risk it not happening at all.” Lily kissed his cheek. “If I’d said yes to James in third or fourth year maybe we would still be where we are. Or maybe I would have written him off as a ponce and I wouldn’t have him or my babies. Things happen when they’re right, and you can’t rush them. Or run away from them.”

“What if he doesn’t feel the same?” Remus rarely dated and never said anything about marriage. “What if I ruin everything?”

“What if he does? I don’t have the answer. I think you have to trust Remus and yourself enough to give him a chance to hear how you feel.”

“And if I fuck it all up?”

“Your friendship has survived war and betrayals and pranks gone horribly wrong, as well as seven years of sharing a dorm and about as long sharing a flat. I don’t think it’s going to fall under the weight of loving him.”

“You better be right, Lily Potter. If you’re not I’m going to be crashing on this sofa after I flee the flat in embarrassment, and I shed.”

Talking to Moony, of course, was a far too direct and logical choice. It took an hour for Sirius to decide that no, that just wouldn’t do.

“You alright, Pads?” Remus asked when he spent the second hour after he returned home pacing.

“Just thinking about Christmas,” he answered distractedly.

“It’s May, I think you have some time before you need to worry.” Remus caught his hand as he walked past. “You look like you have one of your headaches. Why don’t you sit down and I’ll give you a massage? Or I could read something to you?”

“No books.” Books are what had gotten him into the whole mess in the first part. How could he tell Moony how he felt without also confessing the whole story of Phaedra White? Why had he never considered that at some point Moony would have to know about The Brilliant Idea? “I think I might just go to bed.”

“I’ll bring you some tea, it will help you sleep better.” True to his word Remus showed up ten minutes later with a cup of tea, cream in first and half a spoon of sugar, just the way he liked. He’d valiantly tried to fall asleep in those ten minutes, but had failed completely and sat up to accept the tea.

“Thank you.”

“You know you can tell me if something is bothering you, right?”

“There’s no one in the world I trust more than you,” Sirius said honestly. The tea was too hot still but he sipped it anyway, knowing he’d either burn the tip of his tongue or the roof of his mouth but not caring.

“It’s a bit odd, isn’t it, Prongs and Lily having two kids now? They’re well and truly settled, like proper adults. Might make someone think about it a bit, wonder if they’re wanting something different.” Remus settled on the edge of the bed, looking up at the ceiling as if he could see the stars overhead.

“Do you think about something different? Finding your someone and settling down with a couple of sprogs?”

“Merlin no. That sort of life’s never been for me, even if I could find someone who wasn’t put off by my special little problem. Besides I like things the way they are. You know how much I loved marking up papers with red ink in school and I get to add commas and edit dangling participles to my heart’s content now, with the added bonus of actually making a proper amount of money. And I couldn’t possibly ever be lonely or bored with you around. If I want to play with a kid I just have to pop over to see Prongs and Lily. Seems to me being a godfather is like the best bits of being a parent without all the rest.” Remus shrugged and looked sideways at Sirius. “I always figured you’d follow James’ example at some point.”

“I would have had to start developing a crush more than a decade ago, wouldn’t I, to really emulate Prongs?” It made him stop and wonder for a moment, tea slopping over his chin as he stopped halfway to his mouth. Just when had he started falling in love with Moony? Maybe he was more like Prongs then he thought, with less of the whinging. He couldn’t remember a time when making Moony smile hadn't been a priority, or when Moony touching him hadn’t been a comfort.

“Not like that, of course. I mean the whole home hearth and family sort of thing, and making me a godfather.”

“I like my family just the way it is.” It was a little too close to the truth, and Sirius faked a yawn. “Night Moony.”

“Night Padfoot. Sleep well.” Despite being the first to say goodnight, Sirius was a little dismayed that Moony actually left his room.

The next day Sirius stopped by to pick up his post, finding a rather sizable cheque, yet another request for a book signing, and the edited return of his most recent book. Remus must have mailed it when he’d been with Lily. Flipping through the pages he found the usual red marks adding commas and rearranging the occasional unclear sentence structure, but nothing about the plot of the novel. He hadn’t made any of the suggestions that he’d mentioned at the hospital.

Sirius took the book home and read through the story again. Remus was right. The supposed romance of the story felt flat and predictable when compared to the banter between the best friends, and George was clearly nurturing a crush on his friend. He only wanted Byron to be with Melody because he thought it was what his friend wanted. It was a mess. Sirius was a mess too, but at the moment it was a lot easier to fix things for Byron and George. All he had to do was cut half the book and rework the rest to make sure two best friends realized that they were actually in love.

When he was done he sent it off to Molly with a bonus payment and a warning that he might not be needing her help anymore. She sent it back three days later with a cheerful little note letting him know that her twins kept her quite busy and while it had been fun to read his stories first she was fine with the change in things. Also it was her favorite story yet.

“I need to borrow my godson.” The day after he sent the manuscript back to Remus for editing he left the house early in the morning. He couldn’t bear to be around when Moony saw it for the first time. Better to let him read it and get it all over and done with at once, no matter what way it came out.

“You’re not back on the fleeing the country plan, are you? Because you can’t take Harry to Spain.” Lily raised one eyebrow.

“Why would Sirius flee the country?” James held his daughter but stared at Sirius in confusion. “You didn’t actually break into your cousin’s vault at Gringotts, did you?”

“I decided anything Narcissa owned would probably have cooties. Not worth the risk.” Sirius shrugged. “I won’t even take him out of the county, Lils. I promise.”

“Pads? Lily?” James pushed, not having a clue what was happening but suspecting that his wife knew a fair bit more.

“Not now, Prongs. I’ll tell you tomorrow if the world doesn’t crash around my ears today.”

Lily, fortunately, said yes and Sirius was able to mostly distract himself with a trip to the zoo and far more ice cream than an almost five year old and a twenty-five year old should eat. He returned Harry in time for tea but warned Lily that he probably wasn’t very hungry.

“I’m proud of you,” Lily said before he left, kissing his cheek.

“I’d probably be proud of you too if I knew what the bloody hell was going on,” Prongs added, kissing his other cheek. Sirius said thank you to them both, decided against the floo, and apparated home. He sat on the front stoop for half an hour before daring to open the door. The flat was completely silent.

“Moony?” Maybe he wasn’t at home. Maybe he hadn’t gotten the package or had been too busy to read it today. Maybe he had read it and had run for the hills. Maybe he hated it and hated Sirius and was in his room packing for a trip to Zanzibar. For a minute he worried that Moony really was gone because the flat, even Moony’s room, were empty. The last place to check was what they grandly called the balcony, which was really just a fire escape with a upside down rusty cauldron as a seat and a single pot with a dittany plant they barely kept alive. Moony sat with his back to the wall, looking out at the view. They were lucky enough to be on the side of the building that looked out over a park rather than another building.

“Hey.” He settled on the sill of the open window, which was the only other place to sit but also meant that Remus couldn’t go anywhere without stepping over him, which could come in handy. “How was your day?”

“I read a book.” Moony didn’t look at him. Sirius couldn’t tell what he was thinking at all, other than that he looked like he should be smoking. They’d both given it up when Harry was born, though, and that went double now that Oliva had come along.

“Yeah?” He took a deep breath and waited.

“Yeah. I thought it was weird, at first. It’s the same Phaedra White book I just edited, and I thought it was a mistake until I got through the first couple of chapters and it’s been completely rewritten. I didn’t say anything about the story to anyone, other than you, but it was like they looked inside my head and saw how I wished the story had been written. George was so certain that Byron was going to propose to his girl but instead there’s this scene, this magical scene where Byron says that he couldn’t fall for Melody because he was already in love. That it had been George all along. Sometimes your best mate is also the love of your life.” Remus was still staring down at the park and Sirius wanted to shake him, or beg him to turn his head, or just kiss him and take his chances that Moony wouldn’t throw him over the side of the balcony.

“Do you think that’s true?” he asked. “Even when the best mate is a complete disaster who might be keeping a secret or two, but only because they want their best friend to be happy and not have to worry about anything?”

“Do I think that Byron and George are in love?” When he finally turned, Moony had a perfectly inscrutable expression on his face, the one he used in school that let him tell McGonagall that he didn’t know anything about a prank that had in fact been his brainchild. When he used it on anyone else it made Sirius smile. Facing it himself was agonizing.

“Do you believe that sometimes your best mate can also be the love of your life?” He’d channeled everything he felt and thought into Byron. Remus set a great store in books and the written word, and Sirius hoped that maybe works written in black and white would make his argument for him.

“I think the hardest thing to believe is that I could possibly be that extraordinarily lucky.” With the blink of his eye Sirius could see all the vulnerability Moony had been hiding. The hope and the fear, the trust and the love. The love he saw there knocked the breath out of him.

“Merlin, I think you just scared five years off my life, you were that hard to read.” He pulled himself through the window and squatted in front of Remus. “Do you really think you could love me?”

“You deserve to be scared, you bloody git. You had me secretly editing books you wrote and somehow you became an author for the lark of it.” Remus rubbed his forehead, like he did when something was puzzling him or the writing of something was particularly confusing. “I’ve been in love with you for ages, Pads, and I find there’s generally very little thinking involved. It’s a simple fact.”

“I don’t think there’s anything simple about it.” Sirius Black was the author of seventeen and a half books, and it seemed to him there was only one possible option for what came next. He kissed Moony, of course. Kissed him like Byron had kissed George, like Psych had once kissed Cupid and Darcy had kissed Elizabeth. The kiss had been brewing up inside him for some time and he did not stop until the air was gone from his lungs. And then he said the words that he planned on repeating every day for the rest of his life. “I love you Moony.”

“I love you too, Phaedra White.”

Sirius groaned, and laughed, and kissed his Moony all over again. It was Absolutely Brilliant.

#wolfstar #wolfstar fic #sirius black #sirius x lupin #remus x sirius #harry potter fic #my fic #remus lupin #lily potter #remus lupin x sirius black #maurader fic #everyone lives #or at least the important people

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tackyink · 4 years

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The only reason I've decided to post this is that I think unless I do I won't stop anxiety-editing it and I'd like to move on to something more interesting. And maybe pick up Veleta again, because I had written more than what I posted here and I want to keep working on her.

I can only offer for context that I hail from real life Dressrosa and one day someone asked me what, as a historian, I would do if I ever came across a Poneglyph in the OP world.

— — — — — — — —

Chapter 1

In a remote corner of Paradise, outside of the main travel routes, there was an autumn island called Harlun, and on its shores there was a place called Duster Town, remarkable if only for the fact that every day was exactly the same and nothing of interest ever happened.

Duster Town was acceptably hot in summer, relatively cold in winter, and unavoidably wet and muddy the rest of the year. This had been a big reason for Alex’s stay to last as long as it had: five years and counting. She was fond of the weather because that was what living in summer islands for nearly twenty-two years did to a person.

She had been working in Duster Town’s old, old library since she had arrived there, having secured the job through contacts she had made while studying. Alex was a historian, and there weren’t a lot of secure jobs for people in her field unless one wanted to work under close supervision of government officers. She had never liked research that much, anyway – or rather, she had liked sticking her nose in archives for the sake of it, but the actual process of searching for documents, putting the pieces together and then writing papers sucked. Learning to satisfy her own curiosity was fun, being forced to share that knowledge was not. Besides, if there was an area of research that grabbed her attention more than anything else, it was that conspicuous century-wide blank in human history, and everybody in her profession knew what happened when someone tried to look too closely into that. Ohara was the biggest ‘accident’ that came to mind, but it wasn’t the only one. Things happened to people who knew too much. Everybody was aware of it, but complicit silence was a healthy tactic that her sensible colleagues employed.

Alex had opinions on that, as, admittedly, did most historians she had met, and since opinions were like assholes, she wasn’t going to be the gross weirdo showing hers to other people. Figuratively speaking or not, it was liable to get her in trouble with the law, and that was the last thing Alex wanted.

She liked her library, and even though she was incredibly disappointed that she’d never be able to set foot inside the Tree of Knowledge due to the unfortunate circumstance of having been born too late. Her job was quiet; since she wasn’t a librarian proper, they had put her at the entrance desk to check out and retrieve books, and she handled the petitions for documents researchers sent to the library. The building in which she worked dated back to several centuries, and the foundation upon which it was built, and which housed the local archive, suggested an even earlier date. It contained one of the biggest and best preserved documentary collections in that half of Paradise, so she spent a lot of time digging inside the archive to fulfill the researcher’s requests.

All in all, she thought she had had an amazing run so far, lending books, persecuting tardy neighbors to retrieve them, memorizing catalogs from too much use, and sending informative material to researchers who were actually doing important things with their lives, unlike herself. Her coworkers were few and not very nosy, which she appreciated, because she loved her time alone and wasn’t too fond of talking about the past.

She could see herself growing old in there and getting cobwebs, if sudden changes in the town hall didn’t run her out of the island, and the way things worked in moderately small towns like that, where everybody knew everybody and keeping a job was more a matter of knowing the right people and having been there for a while than being actually competent at it, meant that her position was likely secured in the long run. That said, the local mushrooms by themselves would have tempted her to stay, even without the rest of advantages. Not many of those in her hometown or Sabaody. Lots of heat and not nearly enough rain.

The sun wasn’t yet up when she woke up with an itchy nose in the small apartment she lived in, and a flurry of sneezes alerted her that she should have taken her allergy meds the night before. Navigating the place with closed eyes, she threw on the same skinny jeans and oversized sweater that she had left on a chair two days ago for yet another day at work. It took more effort than someone who had slept so many hours at her age had a right to. Like nearly every morning, really.

The last remaining days of winter had brought the cold in full force, at least for her summer island sensibilities, and after having a steaming cup of red tea that fogged up her glasses, she bundled inside her black coat and red scarf, put on a pair of burgundy gloves, and headed for the library with a thermos full of more tea, making the usual stop at the nearest bakery to buy a croissant. Her hands ached with the chilly breeze.

(She kept a kettle in the library, but there was never too much tea, in her humble opinion, and the thermos kept her freezing hands warm on the way.)

The sun had barely risen when she arrived at the building, an old stone structure that casted its shadow over a private square, though the tall iron fence was open at all times so the people of the town could use the benches and the fancy stone fountain in the middle of it. According to the records Alex had read, the whole area was built four hundred years back or so as the private residence of some rich family that eventually lost its fortune. The basement that doubled as the archive, though, was considerably older, but records stopped around 700 years back, like everywhere else, and so she couldn’t tell how old the foundations were, or what sort of building used to be there in the past without digging a trial trench in the square, something the town hall had been vehemently against when she suggested it. The refusal only made her want to do it more.

She crossed the fence and was halfway through the square when she saw someone in front of the library’s massive oak doors. That was so unusual it made her stop in her tracks. She wasn’t ready to interact with human beings this early in the morning. In fact, the baker was so used to her being absent at that time of the day that the only things she needed to say when she picked up her breakfast were ‘good morning’ and ‘thank you.’

She repositioned her glasses to peek above them and tried to focus her teary eyes on the figure before approaching it. It belonged to a man, obnoxiously tall as many in these seas had a tendency to, who wore a long black coat with a yellow pattern around the hem and a fluffy spotted hat that looked quite ridiculous but also warm, so she wasn’t going to judge in a morning like that. Since he seemed to be looking for something and having no luck, she did what she was paid for, though she was still off the clock, and approached him.

“Hello,” she said to catch his attention. Her voice came out raspy because this was only the fourth word she had uttered since waking up, so she immediately wanted to jump in one of the flowerbeds and melt into the muddy soil. She cleared her throat softly. “Is there anything you need?”

He turned around to look at Alex. He was in his twenties, and his face was kind of familiar. His earrings caught her attention, but then again, she had a bad tendency to not pay much attention to people’s faces and fixate on irrelevant details. This individual’s entire ensemble and circumstances, though, made him difficult to forget overall.

“Do you work here?” He asked.

She barely registered the question, because it was about then that she noticed the smiley yellow faces on his coat and the long-ass sword he held against his shoulder. She hadn’t been able to see them from behind, and if she had, she sure as hell would have kept her distance until he left.

That… had the potential to be really bad.

“Yes,” she said, thinking she should have not, but it was stupid to deny it when there was nowhere else to go in the plaza, she had offered to help, and the only place she could hide in was inside.

After she unlocked the building.

With the keys she was carrying in her hand.

Yeah, honesty had been the right move.

“What are the opening hours?”

That was also unexpected. “Nine AM to eight PM. It’s on the plaque—” She pointed to the side of the door, and she saw someone had vandalized it with rude graffiti. “Not again,” she sighed to herself, and then back to him, “Nine to eight.”

There were still thirty minutes to go, and she hoped to god that he didn’t plan on sticking around until it was time to open.

“I see,” he said, looking pensively at the door. “I’ll be back later, then.”

“Of course,” she replied, smiling, relieved, and then panicking inside because there was a pirate planning on coming to her workplace that morning and this was an anxiety factor she hadn’t asked to be burdened with. He had to be dangerous. People who weren’t dangerous didn’t carry swords around. Not that people who were dangerous sometimes didn’t carry weapons, but at least those had the grace of not putting every stranger around them on edge. And wait a minute, were those tattoos on his fingers? She couldn’t see all the letters, but she could guess, and after she did, she wished she hadn’t.

When she thought he was already done and about to go, she made her even more nervous by saying, “Just to make sure, I heard you have a sizeable medicine collection.”

Ah, so he was looking for something specific. It made more sense than him simply waltzing in for some light reading, she supposed. “You heard right. It’s not updated often, but it was until ten years ago or so.” Then they ran out of funding. “If you’re looking for recent studies, you may not be in luck.”

Medicine. Why medicine? This man was a pirate. Was he a doctor in his ship? She regretted more than ever having such a bad memory for names and faces. She should take a look at the newspaper archive when she went in, just in case.

“Lucky me, then. What I’m looking for is older than that.”

She noticed a bit of a northern accent. He sounded… not quite polite, but not aggressive, either. Clinical. At the same time, it made the innocent statement sound vaguely threatening. She was curious now about what he wanted to read. What if he was one of those weird pirates? There was a chance, she supposed. Like winning the lottery twice, which she didn’t count on.

“That’s good,” she replied awkwardly, and then added in a valiant effort to be left alone, “There’s a café around the corner that’s already open, if you need to kill some time.”

He looked slightly surprised at the courtesy, and nodded before going off.

And when he was far enough to be a very stupid but not totally unsafe to say, she spoke a little louder to tell him, “Excuse me! Weapons aren’t allowed inside the library!”

The dude seemed amused when he looked over his shoulder to look at her, and he didn’t say anything as he walked off.

Nobody could say she hadn’t tried.

❦

Unbearably jittery after the encounter, Alex went on to switch on the lights of the entire building, put the last few books she hadn’t returned to the shelves the day before in their place, and picked up the day’s newspaper to sit down at the front desk to scarf down the croissant and hopefully wash down all that nervous energy with a cup of tea.

If her first encounter in the morning was a sign of what was to come, she could tell her day was going to be shit. She should have known when her own sneezing woke her up.

Alex wasn’t sure when or how her anxiety had started. It just had, a few years prior, seemingly unprompted, and though it wasn’t severe, thankfully, it had a tendency to assault her when she least expected it. Like a pirate. Pirates did that, right? Not all of them, but according to her limited experience there was a fifty-fifty chance that he would, at the very least, turn out to be a pain in the ass.

Still, without any additional intel, she couldn’t think of any ulterior motives for the guy to come to the library. Since she couldn’t do anything to stop him, for her peace of mind, she decided to be willfully optimistic and believe.

Or at least she could try. She had never been too good at this denial thing.

A several bites into her pastry and a few pages into the newspaper, she came across an article about a sunken Marine warship by a pirate submarine, and she choked on her tea when she saw the same smiley face on the picture that accompanied the article. On said submarine. Accompanied by the word “DEATH.” Good on her for guessing what was on his fingers. At the same time, a coworker arrived, and blanching, she said good morning, got up from her seat and made a run for the newspaper archive, where they also kept in storage a copy of every bounty the Marines distributed with the World Economic Journal.

She didn’t have to look too far to see that yes, the face was familiar because it was supposed to be. She had classified it a few times in the last months – every time the guy got a bounty raise.

Surgeon of Death. Heart Pirates. Captain of one of the several rookie crews that were stirring up trouble that year. Those were the worst, they thought they were at the top of the world just because they had made it into the Grand Line. She could deal with older pirates, but she had yet to come across a newbie that wasn’t an unrestrained asshole.

She thought she saw something about dismemberments in the poster, did a double-take because she had surely read wrong, and by the time she was done with all the crimes attributed to the guy she just put the bounty back in place, went to the front desk once again, and told her concerned coworker, “A famous pirate will probably show up today. Don’t mind him. Let’s hope he just wants to read.”

She looked a little frightened. “Should I call the Marines?”

“If worst comes to worst. Let’s try not get involved if we can. He didn’t seem aggressive.”

“Okay,” she replied, sounding relieved. “Good luck out here, I’ll be in the back tagging the new arrivals.”

“Some people are lucky.”

She sighed and turned the page. Sipped on her tea. It was getting cold. Sipped on it again. She just had to play it cool. She was a professional. The guy had been okay to her.

She just hoped he would come soon, because she wasn’t so sure she could drown her nerves in tea anymore.

It was okay.

Everything was surprisingly okay.

The pirate, the day, the lunch she had at the café around the corner – waitress said the guy even tipped – but yes, everything had gone fine.

Alex didn’t move a lot from the lower floor because she often had to come and go from the front desk to the archive, but she made escapades upstairs to make sure everything was still standing.

She had seen the pirate sitting next to a window in the medicine section reading one of those thick tomes that looked very interesting but made her dizzy because she suffered from having a very graphic imagination.

Her coworkers, who roamed up there more often than her, gave her periodic reports, and one of them remarked that he was kind of hot, didn’t she agree?

No, she did not. The radiator was hot. The kettle was hot. The adjective could hardly be applied to a man unless he was on fire.

Though perhaps he was not a human man, because he had spent all day long sitting in the same position, staring at that book. She had to admire that attention span, if nothing else. She was pretty short on that, lately.

And so, having avoided any type of incident during a day in which she was very tense for no reason after all, it came time to close shop.

The pirate was still there.

Her coworkers were, very conveniently, not. She was sure it had nothing to do with the fact that someone had to remind the wanted man that it was late and he had to go.

As much as she wanted to go home and have dinner, the temptation to stay in her post so she didn’t have to interact with a criminal that hacked his victims to pieces was strong, and no one could blame her for it.

But then he appeared.

The massive door in front of her began to open, and Alex thought it was one of her treacherous coworkers returning to pick up something until a head peeked inside the hall.

“Hi?” The newcomer said shyly.

Alex wasn’t sure if the gross amounts of tea she drank every day had finally caught up to her and were making her hallucinate, because she was seeing a polar bear’s face.

“Hi?” She replied, to busy processing what was in front of her to come up with words of her own.

It seemed that that was enough for the bear, because it – no, not it, he? She? How deep was a female bear’s voice anyway? – pushed the door open some more, becoming more visible. A bright orange jumpsuit was not what she was expecting, but the smiley face on its chest and the sight of the sword the pirate had been carrying that morning didn’t leave a lot of room for imagination.

The creature in front of her eyes was a bear walking on two legs. A pirate polar bear. Probably a boy, with that size. Was he a mink? She had never seen one so up close.

“I’m looking for my captain,” he said, clutching the sword against his body. “Is he around?”

Words decided to come back to her, although in a rather clumsy manner. “Oh. Yes. Yes, I think so. He should be upstairs, reading.”

The bear smiled and she melted at the sight. “Can you… tell him to come?”

“Sure,” she said, sealing her fate. She had to face it sooner than later, she thought as she rose from her seat. The bear was still half-hidden by the door, his boots barely touching the tiles of the library. Curious. Was he that shy? “Why don’t you step inside?”

“I thought you can’t enter the library with weapons.”

His reasoning hit her in the solar plexus with the force of a herd of rainbow ponies. “Right,” she breathed out, wondering how something in the planet had managed to be so big and cute at once. “You’re absolutely right. I’ll go get your captain.”

“Thank you!”

Alex walked as fast as she could towards the stairs until she was out of sight and covered her face to keep her reaction under control. So. Goddamn. Cute. Was that how those pirates lived? Trying not to squeal whenever the resident polar bear was being sweet?

Steeling herself, she walked up the remaining steps, hoping the captain had somehow vanished while she wasn’t looking.

No such luck.

She stepped a little more forcefully than necessary as she approached him from behind a shelf, always staying at a safe distance, to try to catch his attention, but he didn’t move.

(The annoying voice in her head told her that the only safe distance from that man was a sea away.)

Could he have been asleep? That would have explained things. What was his name again?

“Mr. Trafalgar?” She tried. She wasn’t sure if she should have made known that she knew who he was, but the deed was done. He looked up. “It’s about time to close and… there’s a polar bear looking for you in the reception hall.”

“Bepo’s here?” He looked in confusion at her, and then at the window. It was dark outside. “I hadn’t noticed it had gotten so late. Eight, right?”

He stretched in the chair. Between the movement and the spotted hat and jeans, he reminded her of an overgrown leopard.

“Almost,” she offered.

He glanced at the book, frowning. Granted, his face seemed to be stuck in a perpetual frown and he didn’t sound angry. “Do you have the same hours tomorrow?”

“Oh, no, we don’t open on Sundays,” she replied, wondering if this was the exact point where the conversation would go downhill. She attempted to make it better. “But you can come on Monday if you want to keep reading.”

He grimaced, this time for real. “Can’t do. We leave on Monday morning.”

“Oh.” A quick stop, then. It was a thing that happened often. The recording time for the Log Pose was less than a day in Harlun. “Well, we could make some photocopies, but…” The book was way too long for that, and he seemed to be about halfway through.

“Can I take it out tonight and give it back to you sometime tomorrow?”

She appreciated wholeheartedly that he wasn’t getting mad at her, but the thought of the book going out of the library like that made all her alarms go off. “Not without a library card.” Which was only for residents, obviously.

She braced for retaliation, but it never came.

The pirate looked kind of conflicted. She didn’t know what was so interesting about the book that he couldn’t find it in another island, and she didn’t need to know the options that were crossing his mind to realize that she probably wouldn’t like them.

Since idiots had to find ways to console themselves, she would tell herself during the following hours that the only reason she made a tremendously stupid offer was to avoid the much worse alternatives.

“I’ll actually be working here tomorrow. The library is closed, but if you’re really that interested, I can let you in.”

Or maybe she was a fucking bleeding heart who couldn’t pass up the opportunity to make someone’s day better for free. But ironically, at what price.

She recognized the emotions on his face. First surprise, then suspicion. “Why would you?”

Because she really was that stupid, she wanted to say. “You’re a doctor, right? I don’t want a dead patient on my conscience because you couldn’t finish a book you needed. Anyway… you’re free to come tomorrow.”

And she left him there, quickly making her way down to retrieve her stuff. The bear had come inside, at last, and he looked up from the documents on Alex’s desk. She would have been surprised if he could read that handwriting.

“He’s coming,” she said with a small smile, but she didn’t know if it showed. She had, on occasion, been asked why she was angry when she tried to smile. “I’m going to pick up my things inside.”

He looked pleased, though. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

She went into the back room, taking extra long on purpose until she heard movement outside and the sound of the door closing. By the time she found the courage to crawl out of her hole, the pirates were nowhere to be seen.

She left a note in her desk’s drawer, just in case, saying that if she disappeared under mysterious circumstances, Trafalgar Law was to blame. She had thought about phoning a coworker to alert her, but she wasn’t supposed to let anybody in on Sundays, much less a wanted man, and she didn’t want to risk this incident reaching the ears of the mayor.

For the first time in years, her stomach couldn’t handle the tea and she had to throw most of her cup down the drain. Damn nerves. Her hands were acting up more than usual, to the point where the warmth of the thermos wasn’t doing a lot to soothe the pain. She would have worried about that if it weren’t because of more pressing matters.

❦

Even earlier than the day before, he was already waiting for her at the door when she arrived.

Alex would admit without missing a beat that she had been an idiot for offering – never mind the very real possibility that the guy could have broken in to retrieve the book and left damages the library couldn’t afford to repair – but he was either equally dumb or exceedingly confident for having shown up. Alone. Alex could have called the Marines, for all he knew.

She didn’t miss the sword he was carrying, this time around.

She put two and two together then. Of course. He had appeared before the hour to check that the surroundings were safe.

“I didn’t expect you to actually show up,” he said as a greeting, and she reached for the key in her pocket. His tone was impressed with a good dash of mockery. “Do you know who I am?”

He already knew the answer, since she had called him by name the day before. With only two sentences, he demolished most of the halfway positive impression he had made the day before, and Alex, already predisposed to think he was a dick, decided he was exactly that.

She was tired and anxious, so she couldn’t muster up any facial expression as she said, “Should I care?” Upon noticing that had sounded even worse than she meant to, she added in a hurry, “I mean, what’s the point of asking that? Do you want me to turn around and leave the door locked?”

He didn’t seem to take it badly, thank the heavens. He looked a bit amused, in fact. “I don’t need you to unlock a door.”

“I’m well aware,” she replied in a monotone. “I appreciate you had the courtesy of waiting.” The budget was tight and changing the lock would have been a royal waste of money.

She opened the door and went in first to turn on the lights. He closed the door after going in, and she would have usually locked it again, but she really did not want to be stuck alone inside of a building with a stranger, even if the state of the lock wouldn’t make much of a difference.

“I’ll be working downstairs.” She pointed to an old, reinforced door on the wall behind the front desk. “Give me a heads up when you’re done.”

That sword was making her unnecessarily jumpy. He didn’t need to have it with him.

“Alright,” he said, glancing at the staircase to the second floor, and then he must have noticed that she was giving the sword the stink eye, because he tapped it against his shoulder and smirked. “Got a problem?”

Yeah, one about two meters tall. “None as long as you don’t use it.”

“As long as you don’t give me a reason to.”

She wanted to say a lot of things. That they were alone, that he was kind of a dick, that yes, she was as dumb as he was thinking, and to please leave her alone until he was done and only then appear to say goodbye and thank you.

Instead, she picked up a folder from her desk drawer and a lantern from the wall and left it at, “Enjoy your reading.”

He took the hint and left, and so did she.

The door to the archive closed behind her with a heavy thud, and she lit the lantern.

It was a fire hazard in a library, but it was inevitable, because the basement didn’t have electricity. After many years of pressuring the city hall for a budget increase, the council had seen fit to make renovations and extend the electrical installation to the basement. She just had to keep herself from setting the archive on fire for a couple months and the risk would be no more.

She went to the farthest area from the entrance and set the lantern on an ancient wood table. The basement was pure grey stone from floor to ceiling, making it permanently cold. She hadn’t bothered to take off her coat and scarf, but the gloves had had to go and she wasn’t happy about it. She had icicles for hands as every winter, and this year they had begun to hurt earlier than usual.

Alex had decided to put in some overtime that week because she was researching a family tree that a cousin of the mayor, a pretentious git that paid very well, had commissioned. Something about proving a blood relation to a noble family from a nearby island to have a claim to somebody else’s lands. Alex didn’t care. She had been trained for this thing, a job was a job, and she was going to do it to the best of her ability. Even if she had absolutely loathed genealogy back when she was still a student.

She didn’t think her employer would be too happy with her findings, though, because so far she’d only found a mess of marriages that didn’t bring her any closer to the neighboring island. She even found some records of a family branch that had one of those pesky Ds in the name and then disappeared from record. She supposed they just left the kingdom. She had noticed that every D. that rose to prominence was an outright weirdo, and she wasn’t sure if it was just confirmation bias because boring people didn’t make the news, but damn it they didn’t seem to crop up in the most outlandish incidents. There was the infamous Monkey D. Dragon, his father Garp, who she had seen a couple of times in person and seemed frankly overbearing, the guys in Whitebeard’s crew… And the biggest weirdo of all, of course: the King of Pirates. She’d heard from an acquaintance funny stories of him to last her a lifetime. A lot of the mystique around his figure was lost, but that was one of the things that made history interesting, in her opinion.

Sitting down on the floor to open the cabinet on the lower part of a bookcase, she took a look at the bundles of papers there. It was a seriously old part of the archive, housing documents from six hundred years back, but thanks to the cold and darkness, they had stood fairly well against the tide of time.

She reached inside and pulled out the dozen of tomes at the forefront to make sure noting was trapped behind. That part of the archive had been catalogued way before Alex’s time, after all, and not every archivist had been as careful as they should have. She had learned that the hard way, finding folders that didn’t match the catalog and misplaced pages centuries into the future. Whenever that happened, she passed the mess to her coworkers, the actual archivists, who had a tendency to curse her incessantly until they fixed the issue, but it was all in good humor.

Very carefully, she took the lantern and approached it to the cabinet. She looked inside and stared at the darkness. In fact, she had to stare for a very long while before realizing that she wasn’t looking at the back of the cabinet or even the wall.

There was an empty space there.

A secret compartment?

Work forgotten, she had a good minute of doubt, sitting on the floor. She was severely allergic to dust mites and exploring further was a health hazard. There could be spiders or rats or fungi or lethal mold. She could wait until the next day and ask a coworker to check it out in her stead.

But the temptation. There was only so much willpower she could exert in less than twenty-four hours until she ran out.

Please let it not be rats or fungi, she thought as she peeled off her coat and scarf to avoid getting them dusty, and dived in.

❦

It had been eleven years since he had any anything to remember his parents by other than the bitter memories of how Flevance had gone up in flames.

If someone accused Law of dwelling too much in the past, he would have denied it with full knowledge that he was a liar. But there was a hint of truth in that, and that was that he didn’t think of his dead family often. It was another particular piece of past that haunted him.

There was nothing left of Flevance but ashes and ruin. He knew it well, and that was why he avoided revisiting those times.

And yet.

He closed the book he had just finished, running a finger over the cover. He remembered the nights his parents spent locked in their study, writing the results of their investigations in order to share their knowledge, hoping that a cure could be found in time.

He had spent the last two days reading every word in their voices, surprising himself when he could still recognize in the wording which parts had written who.

He’d been thinking from the moment he’d found the book, the first time in over a decade he had found a copy of it anywhere, that he’d have to let it go, but he wasn’t willing to. He had considered offering to buy it from the librarian, but given she hadn’t even let him take it out the day before, he had a feeling that she would refuse. She was understandably wary of him.

Well, he was already going to hell, so proving her suspicions right wouldn’t make a difference.

He slipped the book inside his coat and went downstairs to find her. He’d at least say thank you before she could find out what he had done. He was mildly curious about her reaction, but he’d make sure to miss that.

He opened the door to the place where she’d said she’d be to be greeted by darkness and a faint light, and he immediately tumbled down half a set of stairs when he set a foot down and only found air.

Cursing under his breath, he fought against the urge to leave unannounced and, going against popular advice, he followed the light at the end of the tunnel. It got increasingly brighter the more he advanced, passing bookcase after bookcase. The way they were set made the basement somewhat labyrinthine, and he was unsure he’d be able to find his way upstairs again if he had to follow the same path he was taking.

And right as he reached the source of light… it disappeared. Briefly. As did half of the librarian’s body inside of a low cabinet in which there was no human way an adult’s torso could fit.

How interesting.

He cleared his throat, and she visibly jumped, hitting her head with a resounding plunk and an ow. She pulled out of the cabinet, looking pretty embarrassed when she faced him.

“Um, oh—Are you heading out?”

“That was the plan.”

“Okay, then,” she said like nothing had happened. Her hair, brown and chin-length, was covered in dust bunnies, as was her sweater. She took off her glasses to clean them with her clothes, revealing a set of dark circles under her eyes that could rival his. When she noticed she couldn’t wipe anything with what she had available, she discarded the glasses on top of a nearby table. “The door’s open, so—”

“What’s in there?” He asked.

“Oh, nothing important,” she said calmly, and rubbed her nose with the back of a hand. “Just old registries.”

She watched her watch him. She wasn’t budging under his stare, but Law could detect lies from miles away. Also dust allergies. He hoped she was getting medicated for those, because this town was supposed to be a quick, relaxing stop, and he wasn’t in the mood to get the corpse of a librarian added to his list of crimes. “Inside the wall?”

“I guess someone saw fit to build a compartment in the cabinet?”

“A compartment where an adult and a lamp can disappear into?”

She spread her arms, as if to make a point. “I’m fairly small.”

“Don’t you say.”

Her expression went from neutral to mildly annoyed as she dropped her arms and the pretense altogether. “You really don’t have anything better to do in town?”

The question would have been fair had there been anything out there other than mud and the tavern his men had occupied since the day they arrived. “Any suggestions?”

She conceded the point. “No, not really.” With a sigh, she nudged her head towards the cabinet. “There’s no wall. I think there’s a hidden room in there. Too wide for a passage.”

“Is this something common in libraries?”

“No, but it is with old buildings, to an extent. And these shelves may be old, but they sure as hell aren’t as ancient as the basement.” She knocked on the wood. “Someone hid that room when this basement was repurposed as an archive.”

Consider his curiosity officially piqued. “Any idea of what’s inside?”

“I was about to find out.”

“So?”

“You want to check it out?” She sounded confused and like she didn’t want to hear the answer to that question.

Too bad he wasn’t feeling charitable. “Sure. You never know where a treasure may be hiding.”

If she had been tense until then, at that moment she looked ready to shove him out with her own hands. “Any objects that may be in there could be historical artifacts and need to be treated as such.”

“And are you going to stop me if I decide to take something?”

Her frown deepened, but there was little else she could do. She had to know that, even if he left just so they wouldn’t have to put up with each other any longer, he could come back any time he wanted, key or not.

There wasn’t as much bite in her voice when she relented. “Be my guest,” she said, offering him the lamp and gesturing towards the cabinet.

“Ladies first,” he replied, which didn’t win him any points, going by her huff, but she didn’t waste more time arguing and headed inside.

And then he was left without any light on his side.

“Well?” She asked, sounding a bit nervous.

“Are you in a hurry?” He said, feeling his way down the cabinet until he found the opening. There. He saw a faint light on the other side.

“Do you enjoy making people uncomfortable?”

“It’s a job perk, so might as—” Thud. His hat fell off his head and rolled to the other side. “—well.”

“…Did you hit your head?”

“No,” he lied, crawling out of the cabinet and picking up his hat.

“That’s why I tried to give you the lamp,” she said with obvious satisfaction, ignoring his reply, and holding the lamp higher to cover as much terrain as possible with the light. “The floor and walls look the same as outside. This is an extension of the basement, built at the same time as the rest of it, by the looks of it.”

“Why do you think someone would block the entrance?”

“To hide something or someone, so there’s a good chance there’s going to be a corpse instead of treasure. In fact, I hope it’s a corpse,” she sentenced.

“You have strange hobbies.”

“You wouldn’t try to steal a corpse. At least I’d avoid a pointless argument.”

Well, that depended on its state. He was bored, and it couldn’t hurt to take a body part back for closer inspection.

“…You wouldn’t, right?”

“Technically, it wouldn't be anyone's property.”

“Just saying, you have no right to judge anybody else’s hobbies. Hm?” She walked forward a few steps, and the light revealed something square standing in the middle of the room.

“Doesn’t look like your corpse,” he said.

“Doesn’t look like your treasure, either,” she replied, but she seemed to tune him out as she approached the object, and by the time she was standing in front of it, her eyes were wide open and her mouth fell a little bit.

Law waited for her to say something, but she was too caught up inspecting the thing. He took a few steps forwards and saw a perfect stone cube with etched inscriptions that covered one of its sides completely, and whatever it was, the librarian must found it fascinating. She was running her free hand over the symbols, leaving trails in the dust, and looking at them so up close that she may as well have been head-butting the stone. He was fairly sure that he had forgotten he was there. And that had to mean something, since she had made clear that she didn’t want him there.

“What is it?” He asked. There wasn’t anything interesting to him about that stone, and the fact that she had the lamp he had refused to take just to be a smartass meant that he couldn’t inspect the rest of the room while she did her thing.

She wasn’t brought out of her reverie right away. When she finally spoke, she took a couple of steps back to look at the entirety of the cube. “It’s a Poneglyph. It makes no sense, but it has to be.”

That didn’t answer anything. “And what’s that supposed to be?”

“A Poneglyph’s a… a record of sorts. There’s an indeterminate number scattered across the world, and they contain… well. Historical records.”

“So something that makes sense to have it in an archive.”

“Well, yes, but no. Poneglyphs contain forbidden knowledge.” Her stare could bore a hole in the stone if she kept it up. “You know the Void Century? Have you heard about the tragedy of Ohara?”

“On passing.” He recalled the news about the Tree of Knowledge burning and the scientists being declared enemies of the World Government. “One of the people involved has joined a pirate crew recently, hasn’t she? Devil Child, they call her.”

“Do they?” It seemed to come as entirely new information for her, and that made her look at him, at last. Without the glasses and under the light of the lamp’s flame, her eyes looked yellow. “I don’t pay that much attention to pirate news. No one ever comes here.” The question of why was he there was left unspoken, and thus unanswered. “Anyway. They are the only remaining records of the Void Century, and its study is prohibited by the World Government. Rumor goes that Ohara’s experts were working on them.”

“World Government covering up stuff then. Nothing new.”

“Indeed.” She switched the lamp to her other hand and glanced back at the Poneglyph. “I wonder why there’s one here. They are supposed to be extremely hard to find.”

“What does it say?”

“I don’t know. Nobody can read them. Maybe the people of Ohara could have, but…” She shrugged. “We’re twenty years late.”

She stared pensively at the Poneglyph, the lines of frustration etched on her face showing more emotion than anything he’d seen so far from her. Then, unexpectedly, she offered the lamp to him. “You want to take a look around, right?”

Their hands brushed for a moment when he took it by the handle, and she turned again towards the stone and crossed her arms.

He was still curious.

“What are you going to do?” He asked.

“Hm? About what?”

“What do you think?”

“The Poneglyph? Did you not hear what I said? Its study is prohibited.” He tone became despondent. “And… the city hall is going to know it’s here in a few months.”

“Why?”

“Renovations. We’re supposed to get electricity in the basement. Lamps are a fire hazard.”

“So it’s your only chance. Could you decipher it?”

“With years of work and research, maybe. But that’s—nah, no way, they reduced an island to bits because of this. It’s not worth the risk. I couldn’t do it anyway.”

“Sounds to me like you’re just making excuses, but what do I know? I’m just a pirate.”

And he started walking around the perimeter of the chamber, in hopes of finding something. After a few minutes of continuous disappointment, the librarian spoke up, and she sounded oddly polite.

“Could you wait here a moment? I want to pick up some material from outside.”

It was his turn to be suspicious. “Won’t you need the light?”

“No, I can navigate this place in the dark. I’ll be right back.”

He supposed that this was too convoluted to be a trap, but he felt kind of naked having left Kikoku in the archive. He didn’t feel uncomfortable for long, though, because true to word, about a minute later and after bonking her head on the way back in, she reappeared in the room with large sheets of paper and several other packs that she stacked up in front of the stone.

“Is that carbon paper?” He asked as he approached her. He hadn’t found anything else in the room, but damn if the library’s resident gremlin wasn’t a welcome entertainment.

“That’s right.” And she climbed on top of the unstable pile of papers and started to smooth the carbon paper over the stone. “I’ll transcribe it back home.”

This was a turn of events he hadn’t seen coming. “What happened to ‘it’s forbidden?’”

“All the good things in life are unhealthy for you.” With one hand, she pulled out a roll of adhesive tape and cut a few pieces with her teeth to stick the carbon paper to the Poneglyph. “Besides, fuck the government.”

Law couldn’t help but smirk at that. “A commendable sentiment.”

“Why, thank you!” She beamed at him, whether sarcastically or not, it was hard to tell. With considerable effort, she kept sticking pieces of carbon paper to the surface. He guessed the plan was to cover it entirely.

“Do you need help?”

“Are you offering?”

For someone who had been so wary of him a few hours earlier, she was a bit of a smartass, herself.

“Good question.”

He thought he heard her snort, but he couldn’t tell if it was because she was annoyed or amused. Probably the former.

“That stack of papers looks very unstable,” he commented.

“Yes, thanks for mentioning it.”

“You aren’t tall enough to reach the corner of the Poneglyph.”

Silence, resignation, and the telltale look of someone who was looking at an infestation beyond the capabilities of pest control. “I don’t suppose you would help me?”

“If you asked nicely.”

She looked at him with a strange face, one that indicated many thoughts and the inability to pick a single one and answer accordingly.

“No?” He tried.

Her eyes narrowed as she motioned to one of the papers. “Can you hold this up for me, please?”

His reply, however, was immediate. “I’ll think about it.”

She sighed, determined to ignore him, and returned to her work like she hadn’t expected anything from him at all, which he thought was a great attitude to have. But again, because he didn’t particularly care to see her slip and crack her head against the stone tiles, he did the tremendous effort of lifting up an arm to hold the paper in place.

She paused to look at him. Stone-faced as she was, it was hard to tell if there was any surprise in there or just mere curiosity, but she smiled a little when she said, “Look at you. Maybe the real treasure was the friends we made along the way.”

He let go of the paper, but since she didn’t stop chuckling to herself, he nudged the stack under her feet to remind her who was in control here.

❦

Alex said goodbye to the pirate that had managed to surpass her admittedly low expectations, but not before filing him under the pain in the ass category. Her classification system stood the test of reality so far.

Relieved at being alone again, she locked the door, did a few stretches, and decided that she’d had a lot of emotions that day and deserved another cup of tea.

One hurdle overcome. The pirate had seemed a way bigger problem before she’d found a fucking Poneglyph in the basement. Now she had no clue what to do with the new one.

It didn’t take her long to realize that she was fucked, no matter how she looked at it.

She felt oddly calm about it at that moment. She supposed it had something to do with the shock of the discovery and that the danger was still nebulous, if certain.

She sipped on her tea.

She was the only person that ventured regularly into that art of the archive, but alerting about the discovery herself was out of the question. If they knew she knew, they’d probably make her not know anything anymore.

The problem was that the construction workers would surely find the door, and now that she and Trafalgar had been walking around the room, there was obvious tampering. Cleaning the dust would get rid of the footprints and marks on the Poneglyph, but the lack of dust would be as suspicious as the sets of footprints.

The next gulp of tea scorched her throat.

So, only two options remained: stay, wait patiently and leave up to chance whether an accident happened to her, and probably the whole library with its workers, or quit her job, take a boat somewhere else and drop off the radar. The first one wasn’t worth the risk.

Two things to take into account with the remaining option: anybody with half a brain could suspect that her sudden departure had something to do with the Poneglyph, and in that case, all suspicions would fall on her. The plus side was that her coworkers would probably be spared.

What to do? It was a long way to her hometown. She could settle back there if she was spared from the government’s suspicions. If not…

Well. There was Sabaody.

Which was stupid for several reasons, the main one being that it was on Marineford’s and Mary Geoise’s doorsteps.

The ache in her hands felt especially acute, even through the heat radiating from the cup.

It would come down to luck, no matter what she did. Maybe she was overthinking the situation and nothing would happen. Workers would move the Poneglyph in the middle of the night, or seal it away while no one was looking, and that would be the end of it.

But assuming a best case scenario would most likely spell death in this situation, and she’d like to avoid that. She may not have had a super interesting life, but she was quite fond of having it.

Reality started to sink in then. Oh, god. She had to make a run for it, didn’t she?

She left the cup aside on her desk and started pacing around and up the stairs to burn energy. She could tell the city hall that a family member was ill and she needed to go back home. That would be sensible, but all the paperwork and finding a replacement for her would take weeks. At least one month would go by before she could leave the island without raising suspicions. Being able to cross the Red Line depended entirely on travel time and the wait for permissions to traverse the Holy Land, both of which would take money she didn’t have. She could probably cover the expenses to get to the Red Line, but not the rest of the way.

She’d need to pick up a quick job in between to replenish her wallet, then.

Why couldn’t she go work to a normal library? Why had this happened to her?

She hurried towards the medical section to put the book back in its place, and when she didn’t find it in the cart, she went to check the desks. All empty. Maybe he had put it back in place?

But all there was where the book should have been was an empty space, and a nervous heat started to rise to Alex’s cheeks as she realized that she had been duped and the son of a bitch had stolen her book after she’d had the generosity to open the door for him on a Sunday so he didn’t have to break and enter.

She was too full of anxious energy, with all that had happened, to sit still and fume silently. She’d never been prone to resignation where there were still options left to try, and if what her near future held for her was a one way trip to Impel Down, getting murdered by a pirate wasn’t the worst that could happen.

Harlun wasn’t big, and it was muddy outside. Very much so. Enough that Alex picked up her belongings, went outside, and, for once, was grateful that the roads were made of dirt and not pavement.

She hurried through the private plaza, carrying her bag on her shoulder, boots stomping on the cobblestones until she reached the road and saw a recent pair of shoe imprints that headed down the street.

With her black coat open and billowing in the wind, she went on Trafalgar Law’s pursue and, to her relief, his trail didn’t lead to the port, but rather to the tavern where every single sailor that stopped in Harlun seemed to spend their days in. Not like they had much of a choice.

A friendly face saluted her from behind the counter as she crossed the door. “Long time no see, A—”

“HiAl,” she said to the bartender so fast that she wasn’t sure if the words came out properly, but she didn’t care, because the bastard she was looking for was sitting on a barstool right in front of her. She couldn’t interpret the look on his face, but what she could tell for sure was that she wanted to deck him in it. “You,” she said, accusatory.

He smirked, and her irritation only grew. “What a coincidence. Here for a drink?”

She inhaled deeply, angrily, walked up to him and dropped her bag on the nearest barstool. Damn, he was tall, and so was his seat. Even sitting down, he towered above her. Not that it mattered, because most people tended to be taller than Alex, so this didn’t register as an intimidating factor. “You know what I’m here for.”

“I’m afraid not.”

“You stole my book.”

“Your book?”

She had come here to embarrass herself, hadn’t she? Too late to turn back now. “The library’s book.”

“What makes you think I did?”

Oh, he was insufferable.

“Do you take me for an idiot?” She retorted. “You’re the only person who could have taken it.”

“How so? The library’s closed today.”

Alex’s mouth fell a little bit open at Law’s flippant answer under the curious gaze of Al. “Really?” She said, unimpressed. “I can’t make you return it even if I try, and that’s how you’re going to play it?”

He wore a self-satisfied smile, and he wasn’t even looking at her. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She considered what to say for a few seconds. “Okay,” was the best she could do. She didn’t know why she felt so disappointed. It wasn’t like she had expected anything good from him, from the start. He was right if he thought she was an idiot. “Serves me right for trying to help,” she said, yanking on her bag to retrieve it and turning around without facing him. “Bye, Al.”

Being taken advantage of was the worst feeling.

She hadn’t taken a second step away from him when a hand grabbed her by her left arm and pulled her back.

“Wait,” she heard Trafalgar say. When she turned around, he wasn’t smirking anymore. “What’s the name of the book?”

“You know the name,” she said irritated, confused, and offended that he was invading her personal bubble.

“Do you?”

“Effects of heavy metal poisoning on the cardiovascular system, I think?” She said, punctuating the sentence with a tired sigh. “Do you need the reference too?”

“No. The authors.”

“Are you getting at something or are you just laughing at me?”

He let go of her to search for something in the coat he had discarded on the barstool to his other side. The book she was looking for. He held it up for her, but didn’t offer it, and Alex didn’t try to take it by surprise because there’s no point in stealing when you can’t make a swift escape with the loot.

She looked at the names written below the title. “Doctor…” She muttered, and then she read the surname, and the surname below it, and she blinked a couple of times before redirecting her attention to Law. “You aren’t old enough to have written this book.”

It said Trafalgar. Twice. Family? Was this a con? Did he come from a line of doctors?

“Obviously.”

“A parent?” No, there were two. “Parents?”

“Bingo.”

Alex’s indignation and disappointment fizzled against her will. He was a thief, he’d taken advantage of her good will and was waving the prize in front of her face, she should’ve been furious!

And yet, she had to be a bleeding heart again. “And I don’t suppose you can ask them or the printing press for another copy?”

His response wasn’t immediate, but when he gave one, it was silent. He opened the book from the back, and showed her the words printed behind the back cover:

Printed in Flevance.

That was a resounding no if there ever was one. But did that also mean…? No, he couldn’t have anything to do with that incident, there wasn’t anybody left from Flevance. Perhaps his parents had been working there when war broke out. It was safe to assume that the son of two doctors wouldn’t become a famous pirate if he still had a family to fall back onto. This was a huge can of worms that she had no intentions of opening, though.

“If you’re a liar, you’re a very convincing one,” she admitted. She couldn’t even get rightfully enraged without the universe throwing her a curveball, huh? “All right, keep it. Not that you need my permission.”

With a satisfied smile, he put away the book. “Will you get in trouble?”

“Why do you—” She cut herself short. Not worth asking. “No, I’ll blame you if anybody notices,” she replied. “Al—”

“Not a word.”

“Thank you.” She nodded, and then looked at the pirate once again. “Well, Mr. Trafalgar, it’s been…” Not exactly a pleasure. “Interesting.”

A short laugh escaped him. She had to wonder if it was the alcohol what had him in such high spirits. “Leaving so soon?”

“What, you steal from my workplace and want me to stay for the party?” She asked with incredulity.

“Is it theft if you’re allowing it, though?”

The gall of this dude. “No, thank—”

Suddenly, a red haired man wearing sunglasses indoors and a white jumpsuit entered the scene, putting an arm around Law’s shoulders. “Hey, Captain! Who’s the girl?”

“She’s…”

“A librarian,” she offered. “Just a librarian.”

“Oooh, the librarian!”

“…What—”

“Penguin, come here! It’s the librarian!”

His friend, who wore a cap with the word ‘penguin’ on it that concealed his eyes, but otherwise was dressed exactly like him, walked up to them, “Nice to meet ya!” He wave at her. “You’ve got guts!”

She sensed her chance to make a swift exit was gone. “I think I’m a little lost.”

“Captain said you opened the library just for him.”

“Oh. That.” She was still regretting that. She should have never woken up. Sundays were meant for sleeping. “That’s not guts, it’s being a dumbass.”

The two men laughed, and the first said, “Aren’t they the same?”

She tilted her head, conceding the point. The tilt of their voices was similar to the captain’s, she noticed. Northerners, too. She felt small thinking that they had travelled from practically the opposite side of the world until she remembered she had done the same. The difference was that she had managed to make it boring.

“So what brings you here?” Penguin asked. “Come for a drink after work?”

“No, not really, I was just about to—”

“Come on, have a drink with us!”

“Um, I should really—”

“You live here for long?” The redhead intervened. “I wanna hear about this town. Is it as boring as it looks? Because we’ve been trying to find something to do since we got here.”

“There has to be something.”

Alex smiled a little despite herself, feeling their plight until she remembered the Poneglyph in the archive. “There’s nothing at all.” She turned her head to look at the tables for a moment, hopefully find an excuse to escape. As expected, she saw about a dozen people dressed in the same kind of uniform as those two, but she did a double take when she saw someone clad in orange.

There was the polar bear again, toasting with his friends.

“Is he a mink?” He asked the guys, who grinned at her. She saw Law hide a smile behind his glass before returning his attention to the bear.

He was laughing as he lifted a companion from a chair one handed. Everyone looked so… happy.

“Woah!” Penguin exclaimed. “Second person—”

“Third.”

“Right, third – third person who’s realized what he is since coming to the Grand Line!”

Not surprising. She had never seen any so far from the Red Line. “Is he part of your crew?”

“Yeah, Bepo’s our friend.”

“And our navigator,” Law added.

Aw. Oh, she was getting soft with age.

“Wait here,” said the redhead, “we’ll introduce you!”

“Oh, no need, we already—”

But the two were gone before she could finish her excuse and leave. She supposed there wasn’t any harm in staying a while. She had already demolished her life in a matter of hours, and she didn’t see how this could make it worse. They seemed friendly people, even if their captain was kind of an ass.

“I never thought I’d see the day,” she said quietly, more to herself than anybody else.

Law replied, though. “There aren’t many of them around.”

“No, I’ve seen minks before. I meant a free one.”

Law regarded her with a brand interest that she hadn’t received from him yet. “Are you talking about slaves?”

“You’re headed to the Sabaody Archipelago, right?”

“Eventually.”

“Be careful. Minks aren’t safe there.”

He snorted. “I assure you Bepo can take care of himself.”

Raising her eyebrows at her dismissal, “Don’t underestimate what those people are willing to do to get their hands on a novelty slave.”

“How do you know? Have you been there?”

For longer than she had ever expected to. “Some time ago,” she replied noncommittally. “And it’s dangerous enough for boring people with the kidnapping crews, the human auction, the Celestial Dragons and the Marines so close. You already stand out, but your friend? Keep an eye on him.”

He sounded disgruntled when he said, “You don’t need to tell me,” but it sounded as close to a concession as she thought she was going to get from him.

“Coffee?” Al interrupted to offer one to her. He already had a press in hand.

“Sure,” she said, giving in. She wasn’t going anywhere soon, it seemed, so she climbed on a barstool. “How did you even meet him?” She asked Law, who seemed amused by her interest in his friend. “Don’t they live in the New World?”

“North Blue. We met eleven years ago.”

That was about the last answer she expected. “He’s been with you all along? Wow.”

She felt kind of jealous. She didn’t have any friends from when she was a child. She knew people, sure. A lot of people. Some she liked, many she’d rather not have met at all. A couple of true friends here and there, but no one close by. As much as she enjoyed being alone, and she couldn’t recall a moment in her life she’d felt lonely, she had to wonder how it was like to have such good friends around all the time. It sounded exhausting and fun.

“Yeah,” he agreed, though she hadn’t expected him to, and the admission made her smile a little. “My thoughts exactly.”

#degrees of separation

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citoyenneangele · 4 years

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Les Mis in Bernese (Swiss Les Mis part 3)

The most interesting finding I had during my research at the library was a script of Les Mis in Bernese German (Bärndütsch), a Swiss German dialect, my native language kind of.

I found this extremely fascinating, to read a story that means so much to me, in particular a version of it that is very close to the original in many quotes, in my local language. It was without a doubt a very particular experience for me, enriching in many ways.

This script was written by Ueli Bichsel in the occasion of a open air theatre production in the Bernese old town in 2011.

Sadly it was pretty hard to find actual footage of the show after 9 years, since many of the things are no longer available on the internet after such a long time. This sadly also includes the photos that the theatre company uploaded.

Here is a partly reconstructed version of the website, that does include some aspects of it, like the introduction to the play and the cast, but sadly no photos :(

Here is one of the few pictures I found on the internet a few months ago, featuring probably Javert and Gavroche

youtube

here is a little exctact of the play featuring Valjean’s dispair, a fair in Montreuil, the Thenardiers, Cosette and the other 2 kids, possibly Fantine...

The way this video is arranged makes me suspect there would be a whole recording, to which I sadly don’t have access, but this video just focuses on the woman who plays the accordeon.

Besides that the only file I have access too is a a few scenes that were featured in a christian tv show which you can find here. It is a portrait of the woman who did the co-direction of the production. The portrait starts at about 5mins in. It features besides the portait of Nathalie Trachsel also some behind the scenes clips from the rehearsals, also some scenes from the actual play: Javert upon Valjean’s release, Valjean and the Bishop, Fantine dying, Javert confronting; then after a break The Amis shouting “to the barricades!” (in particular Combeferre, Feuilly, and Enjolras (the guy with the red cravat), them building the barricade, the first attack, Gavroche shooting the sergeant and Gavroche dying, Valjean releasing Javert.

Now let me tell you about the particularities of this play and its adaptional choices:

The language: as I already said, this is the first time I hear and read Les Mis in my native dialect. It is a very poetic form of it using many specific Bernese terms of vocabulary, that I would probably not use on everyday basis.

The script is specifically designed for the square in the old town where it was realised in 2011. Multiple references concerning the nearby streets are being made. Also the actual cathedral of Bern, giving the square its name, is being integrated, as the seat of the Bishop of Digne. I think they invested also some part of the introduction to the play by stating that all of this could also have happened right here, in these streets, which is a pretty powerful message.

The play includes multiple dreamlike sequences, that also explain multiple cast of Valjean. The first dream is kind of a nightmare that Valjean has during his first night after prison where he sleeps on the stone bench which resumes the ordeal he experienced since his conviction for stealing bread (featuring various Valjean-actors at different stages of his life). The next one is the one where everyone surrounds Fantine and wants money from her after her dismissal. Another dreamscene is the internal debate that Valjean experiences after learing about the “trial of the applethief”, where multiple actors represent the different voices in Valjean’s head (Madeleine’s self who doesn’t want to give up his freedom and doesn’t want to give his town up and do good there instead, even if this means breaking with the past, Fantine who insists that he has to save her daughter and thus can’t go in prison, the apple thief who doesn’t want to go to prison for life in his place, the Bishop who wants him to stay with the truth...). The last dreamscene is the near-death experience Marius has after the barricade which is very similar to the finale of the 2012 film which it predates, except that they are actually not singing the finale but the regular Do You Hear The People Sing in (standard) German.

Another particularity is the insert of Javert as some sort of narrator that comments basically the entire story from his point of view. This is particularly interesting because this Javert seems to me more omniscient than I expect actual Hugolian Javert to be. And since there is no story without a narrator, this play ends with Javert’s suicide.

Generally the book seems to have been an important source of information, many of the dialogues are directly taken from Hugo

The influence of the musical is there and reaches also to the point of the already anticipated inclusion of a song into the play. But there are some part of influences that also make me think of other versions, in particular some dialogue seems to be directly taken from 2000 Les Mis (conversation about the cause from Marius and Enjolras)

Marius is a Republican (and sadly partially rude to Gavroche)

Javert tries to hire Gavroche to spy on the Musain, and the latter takes the money, but later uses this against Javert

Gavroche kills the artillery sergeant and not Enjolras, and gets killed while rejoicing his success

preparation for the barricade is featured

In general I have to say that I enjoyed reading this very much as it was really a well done adaptation from how I can tell this. Very detailed.

I am gonna keep a copy of this script. So if you have questions or would have to see something more in detail, just ask ;)

Click on read more to see the detailed summary.

Before the actual script several interesting documents are included

So the very first page is a letter that the director wrote to one of the actors in the play (he plays Le Noir, a elderly revolutionary, who gets a few lines of one of the unnamed workers of the Faubourg that Hugo quotes). He makes an excuse that it took so long, but they had to edit some things because there were not enough male actors for all the roles, so they had to change a few male roles into female roles, and they are also considering where someone may take over multiple roles.

Then we have a list of all the roles with the respective actors who played them. Some roles are still open, and marked with a question mark, as this list was made before the rehearsals actually took place

Next up we have a plan of the rehearsals, with days and hours and everything... interestingly enough they took place at a location that I personally know, so that is very meaningful for me.

Then follows the actual script. The title is Les Misérables - fate, death and love. The translation is by Ueli Bichel, last edited by Marlise Oberli-Schoch, in 2010.

Prologue

Valjean enters from one of the side streads, is poorly clothed, unshaved, lies on a stone bench and sleeps.

Valjean has a nightmare. so there is a scene within the scene. Which explains the quantity of Valjeans that are employed. Like the Madeleine's self, they appear to the actual Valjean actor in the dreams. In this particular dream sequence Valjean is sentenced to 5 years galleys. While both Valjean and his sister Jeanne beg for mercy (because he tried to work but that was not enough to feed all 8 of them, and parents are dead and so on...) the judge has none of this because the LAW.

Valjean2 is sentenced to more prison and other... corrective measures

Valjean 3 and 4 are sentenced to more prison and other unhuman treatment. Javert appears and lets the prisoners to be chained together. They go away

Javert has a monologue about Valjean. Basically he knows that we will say that this sentence is inhuman and that arresting people like JVJ causes more misery since he is the breadwinner of his family etc. But the law is clear and shall not be questioned. He is not in the position to judge the law, and he is also not responsible for the existence of criminals. His duty is it to find out about crimes and to fight them and to deliver criminals to their rightful punishment. He also gives Valjean his passport and tells him what he has to do and what happens if he breaks is parole...and then Javert speaks to the public and talks about how Valjean cried after his first conviction, and how he now doesn't show any feelings anymore. Wonders what happened to his soul.

A woman called Delacroix wakes Valjean up and asks him what he is doing here, why he sleeps on a stone bench and why he is not going to a inn. He says he was rejected everywhere. She gives him a tip and indicates... the actual cathedral that is on that square in Bern where the theatre takes place.

Image/Act 1

Valjean knocks at the cathedral door. First Magloire with Baptistine, then the Bishop come out. While the women are scared the Bishop approaches Valjean without fear and calmly. greets him with a blessing. Valjean tells him who he is and that he has nowhere to stay, that they didn't let him in even in the prison and so on.... Bishop invites him. JVJ continues to talk about his yellow passport. and is surprised that he wants to take him in ... more conversation of this kind. Bishop says it is not his home, it is the home of jesus, that the door ask not how the one is called who comes in, that is asks if one has hunger or thirst.... Says Valjean come sfrom a place where lots of sad things exists, a place full of hatred and anger against the peple, you have the right to mercy. When you go from here with a benevolence, and thoughts of freedom, a penitent sinner and a peaceful man, then you are worth more than anyone of us. Lets him sleep there.[

Magloire has a panic attack because the silver is missing and what else terrible could have happened. The gendarmes bring the arrested Valjean back.The entire conversation about how the bishop exonerates Valjean, by saying he gave him the silver and why didn't he take the candlesticks... And tells him to become a honest man, that he no longer belongs to evil...Javert as narrator again comments the whole scenery and does not believe that Valjean can become a good person in such a short time. Because once a prisoner, always a prisoner.

almost to prove Javert's judgement the next scene is Petit Gervais, but with a girl called Odette, Valjean tears his ticket

Image/Act 2

there is some kind of fair with music and dancing and market, and all kinds of shows. Javert is there, Thenardier is in his inn, Mme T. is there too... Thenardier boasts about how he, sergeant Thenardier, saved a General in Waterloo with lots of overdramatic details People in the audience have mixed feelings about his narration. While someone is totally impressed, someone else has heard other things about this "ghoul". The Thenardiers have first names (Justin and Rose) They have a discussion about their newest visitor and how they can rip him off the best. Make some remarks about his job as a innkeeper that remind me distantly of Master of the house in the musical. Javert has a conversation with Mme T. about Cosette. Then a conversation about Javert, who is new in town. and once they know where he wants to go (the police prefecture) they suddenly ask lower prizes.

So apparently the Thenardiers are in the same place here as Javert, and thus probably also Fantine and Valjean..

Javert arrives at the police. there is a captain Bovet, who is currently ridiculously eating a sandwich and is not bothered by Javert's arrival until he says who he is, i.e. the new police inspector, and he keep telling him that he is not behaving the way he is supposed to according to the official instructions. He wants to see the mayor immediately. On the way, Javert has a conversation with Bovet about how much more clean it is here and how much less crimes there will be here than in Paris. Bovet says that is due to the glass manufacture that the life in Montreuil has never been better. He asks him if he wants to see it. He says, first the mayor. Whom does the factory belong to? To the mayor. He first worked as worker, but after the bankruptcy of the former owner he bought the entire factory six years ago. Javert thinks then it is even better if they first go and see the mayor, when he seems to be the driving force in this town. Bovet says, yes, but also that he is kinda extraordinary, eccentric, well very shy. He lives like an eremit, retired and alone. He even did not want to be elected, he had rejected to be mayor at first. The people think he is abit crazy, but Bovet thinks he is sympathetic and yet he has a bit of pity for him because he is so lonely. A very short, very formal visit at Madeleine's house, where for some reason a soldier is watching, and asking the mayor to come. The scene concludes with Javert-narrator wondering from where he knows this man, finds it weird that this man does not show any interest in the prefect of police (excuse me what are you now, Javert, prefect, inspector, officer? I have lost the overview in this play), wonders if he has something to hide, himself, his face, his voice, a movement, his language....

a woman called Ducret approaches Madeleine, and tells her about one of the girls at the factory, that she has not spoken to ehr yet, but everything indicates that she has a child. Madeleine asks if she is a whore. He only does not want that his workers are captured by moral disintegration. Ducret then suggests to dismiss her. Madeleine trust upon her judgement, and says in this case she shall give her 50 francs and send her away. Ducret has a conversation with Fantine which starts with innocent smalltalk and ends with her being dismissed.

basically Fantine is in a state of powerlessness and everyone wants money from her and threatens her. (The Thenardiers, the landlord the renter of furniture, the letter writer...) Fantine breaks down.

a woman called Françoise who offers haircuts, wigs and teeth, buys Fantine's hair.

Whores in front of the Thenardier's inn and apparently Mme T. is there too, singing (apparently not being a whore). and Javert and Bovet are there too, about how they are being more and more... Two guys called Rambone and Savioni are harassing Fantine who looks worse than the other whores, and Fantine defends herself tries to kick one of them in the eggs ^^ When Javert comes the men disappear...

Javert arrests Fantine and as a narrator he makes a comment in which he says very clearly what he thinks about her (I am not gonna repeat that here though), but basically she is very criminal and is treating good and honorful citizens of this town badly and this can not be tolerated. She breaks down and asks him for mercy because Cosette, you know, but of course Javert doesn't care. So she breaks down and coughs even more...

Madeleine intervenes, Fantine attacks Madeleine, who only wants Javert to release her, but Fantine thinks Madeleine is responsable for all her misery and spits at him. Madeleine says he know what happened, the men are at fault and should be punished, not she. But she insulted the mayor. But the mayor says that this is his business and not the justice's. The whole Javert-Valjean argument about Law and who has what competences Fantine is free. Madeleine wants to pay her debts and bring her daughter back and make that she can live a worthy life again. Fantine faints, and Valjean says to the soldiers to bring her to the hospital

Fauchelevent's incident with the cart. Involves various inhabitants of the town called Toutou, Zidane, Josephine, Fabienne, and Rahel Javert is there too, and in the end of the chapter he is sure that Madeleine has to be 24601

Fantine is deadly ill, Madeleine wants to bring Cosette before she dies

Javert demands to be dismissed, featuring detailed description by Javert on the points where he thought to have recognized Valjean (and reading this script in its entirety makes me realise mistakes that they didn't. For instance here he still stole from a boy (i.e. Petit Gervais and not Odette). Equally detailed description of the apple thief, and who recognized him as Valjean. Mention about the trial the next day. Madeleine says he can leave. Javert insists to be dismissed. Madeleine says, rather than dismissed he'd need to be promoted, he appreciates him as the dutifuly man of honor that he is. Javert has another monologue that how each time when he arrested someone and mercilessly judged him, he told himself "help me god that you will never stumble", And now he stumbled and needs to accuse himelf. It is about justice, the law asks for an example. Valjean just says we'll see.

dreamlike sequence. Features different actors that represent the different voices in Valjean's head.

Bishop: tells him to go his way. And stand to his identity, to lie would be very wrong, he promised to do no wrong anymore.

Apple thief: blames him for making him his substitute, the one who needs to suffer in his place

Madeleine's self: is relieved that Javert is no longer going after him. Valjean no longer exists. This was god's will. God wants me to do more good here, to be an example for others, everything else is destiny. And for that I need to stay the mayor who gives food to the ppor and makes that the orphans get good education. He shall break the candlesticks as he shall break with the past. He shall forget about the bishop. And also this apple thief is a criminal, he shall be in prison.

Fantine: asks when she will finally see Cosette, he owes her a lot for all the injustice she has suffered because of him. She doesn't think the apple thief wil be a better person but he will be an example for her child. He shall save Cosette who is suffering because she is mistreated by the Thenardiers

Valjean wakes up and tells Arnaud to leave for Arras.

Image/Act 3

again no trial scene, just a summary of a very angry Javert who wants to go after Valjean NOW, as he humiliated him

Fantine dying. Javert confronting Valjean and making respectless remarks to both Valjean and Fantine. Valjean in turn accuses Javert of having killed Fantine. Valjean attacks Javert with a chair so that he can pay his last respect to the dead Fantine. Then says to Javert that now he is at his command. Javert makes another extremely unnecessary stupid comment. Valjean approaches Javert and stretches out his hands, as Javert wands to bond them, he knocks Javert down and escapes

Valjean sees Cosette and wants to help her carry the bucket of water home to ther mother. Cosette says she has no mother, thinks she never had one, that she brought her and never picked her up again. Valjean asks if she lives alone. She says, almost, Monsieur and Madame are only beating her. Realizes she is Cosette, says he wants to stay in the inn for the night, she shall show her the way. They talk about the two other children, Popine and Zelma, who never have to work and have beautiful dolls, and always are allowed to play, while she has to work all day and is not allowed to play as the two other kids don't let her. Only sometimes she is allowed to play, when she is done. But she has nothing to play with. She once played with one of the dolls but then Madam beat her. But she has a small sabre of tin with which she dissects leaves and rainworms

Usual Thenardier-inn conversations, in particular the one about the missing bread, the lost money, that Valjean miraculously finds, Valjean buying the work she'd have to do, (socks), he buys her a doll in a nearby shop, the whole negotiation about Cosette, including Thenardier insisting to see a passport. Valjean saying he doesn't have any, it is not required here. If he takes Cosette with him they won't know his name or his address, they will break down all the bridges behind them . However he has the letter of Fantine. They leave quickly.

Here the Thenardiers don't go after him, they just regret that they didn't make more money

another Javert-narrator monologue, about the dangerous criminal that escaped him and that now also has an innocent girl in his hands. He searched with 36 men and 6 dogs but he is like disappeared from this world. He felt so bad wehn he told the police minister about this development. But the latter did not seem to be that interested, talked about social misery, about shortcomings in the health system. Told him about the beggars, the neglected, from the small criminals who kill another man for bread, about big criminals who in hordes rob reputable citizens, he shall not chase a phantom. But our dear Javert is obsessed with said phantom and doesn't want him to escape. He wants to follow his trace until he has him on (no, not under) the guillotine. He is coming to Paris, not for the miserables, for whom he does not care that much, but for Valjean!

Image/Act 4

Gavroche singing a song about Paris in the time text, yet missing

a coin falls on the square (no idea from where), an entire bunch of poor children and teenagers fight upon it. Gavroche, the most streetwise/smart/crafty of them takes it, and escapes, the other children behind him, he gets caught by Javert, the other children disappear Javert treats him badly and takes the money away from him. When he asks Gavroche for his name, he asks Javert back, but he doesn't seem to be interested in reavealing his identity. But then Gavroche tells him his name, because he told him that there are many like him. And he insists that he, gavroche is unique. So basically Javert recruits Gavroche to spy on the Café Musain "because there are things happening that are of big significance for the state and the city", and Gavroche says yes, because he gave him money. Javert wants to know who is there, what they speak about and what they intend to do.

The students and workers in the Café Musain discuss the situation and Javert spies on them. The people is agitated, one fears that there will be a revolution, a uprising of the miserables Grantaire (who is absent in an older version of the script) declares that he only wants to drink and forget about life, a stupid invention without purpose. Bahorel and Joly have a conversation about Bahorel's lover Feuilly talks about Roman Gods (apparently we now have a Jehan Feuilly or is that a Feuilly Prouvaire or whatever?) Grantaire has a monologue about what they consume in different cities, and harrasses the waitress. Courfeyrac doesn't want any kings anymore and does not like the charter, thinks she belongs to the fire. Enjolras comes in with Marius, presents the latter as a friend of his who want to join them. Marius is a republican and declares that he wants to fight for the republic with all his force, however he hopes it won't get that far that he'll need to give is life. But he prefers to do so rather than life under a tyran (suspicously similar to 2000 dialogue if you ask me) They sing the Marseillaise until Louison tells them to stop, because she does not want the police to shut down her pub. Yes, apparently she now is an innkeeper too.

Outside the café: chaingang. Valjean with Cosette watching. The conversation between the two that ends with Cosette saying "If one of them would cross my way, I think I would die... Dad, what are galleys?" Valjean wants to leave. Marius sees her and wants to follow her, but loses her in the crowd. Goes after Gavroche instead and handles him pretty rudely (Sorry Marius, but this is not how you do it). Basically he tells him to find an angel. Gavroche then is just like "but does this angel have white wings?" Marius instead gives him a detailed description of Cosette and her goldbrown hair and white dress, and how velvet her look is and how silky smooth her lips ar and everything...

They are back to the Musain Combeferre says all the workers have to swear that they go to the streets at the first alarm and fight Feuilly says he can be sure, they fight. But the students have to pave the way. We workers fight, and even if there are as many enemies, we'll fight Feuilly says they are 300 already (oukei, now I am really impressed) Bahorel is convinced that in 14 days they will be as strong as the government i.e. 25000 Bossuet declares he doesn't go to bed, he makes cartridges. Feuilly wants to fight. now. Enjolras says first they need to have weapons Courfeyrac insists that the soldiers do have weapons. Le Noir has the "either for the people or against the people speech" that is more or less an exact translation of the speech that one of the revolutionaries in the Faubourg has in the preparations chapter. Gavroche comes, announces Lamarque's death Combeferre: what? Lamarque? The courageous freedomfighter, our advocate? Now we have resist on our own! Away with the government! Feuilly: we overturn the government! To the barricades! Enjolras: it is about us! now its about everything! at his funeral - to the barricade!

Valjean and Cosette in the garden. They are considering to move again. Cosette: we are changing houses like we are changing names. Valjean is like "I know that must be weird for you, but one day you will understand". Valjean goes inside. Marius is with Cosette (Gavroche led him here, for money), lots of poetic blablabla, and <3<3<3, and you know, Marius shows her handkerchief and ask if it is hers, she says yes. In the end Valjean calls her. Says he keeps the handkerchief as a pledge

The "Thenardier Gang" (yes that is how they are called nowadays) sets out to rob Valjean's house. Eponine tries everything that they don't. In the end she succeeds.. Claquesous blames not only her but also the sight of 2 fighting sparrows and a black cat during the day. Cosette tells Marius they are leaving for England and probably won't come back. Cosette says Marius he should follow them, but Marius says he has no money. He says e won't come tomorrow, only the day after, and also he dies if she leaves. Marius says they have to renounce on each other for 1 day, but maybe they'll win life. Marius tells her the address. or more precisely he graves it into the wall, says he lives with Courfeyrac. when he is gone, Valjean decides they need to leave immediately, he has seen people that don't please him and Paris is bubbling, they have no choice...

Image/Act 5 (named the revolution)

So basically Lamarque's funeral has already happened. And many of the poor have paid him their last respects. Then the subversive slogans suddenly caused the troops of the king to attack people. People are kinda angry and meet up in front of the Musain. Courfeyrac finds a group of workers who come from the funeral, but luckily have not been among those who were attacked by the dragoons (ah, they are not called dragons, good to know :)), but are very angry, Courfeyrac tells them to go inside they can use people like them. Bossuet speaks with a worker from another group, who has a grazing shot in the arm, but doesn't care, they discuss about their weapons Feuilly asks a working woman what she wants. She says: to fight. Show them up there that they push back against that. Feuilly approves. Another worker has no weapon but would fight if he had one. Bossuet tells him he should provide himself one. Worker sets out to pillage a armorer. Everyone in the crowd shares rumors about what happened, and the Thenardier and Claquesous are awaiting happy times. And Babet also. Extraordinary mention to Combeferre declaring this is the best day of his life. They start building a barricade and undercover Javert has made his appearance.

Eponine tells Marius Cosette has left, apparently without leaving a sign. Marius is heartbroken and wants to die on the barricade at any cost. Which again upsets Eponine because she loves him

Inside Musain. Enjolras wants to know what is happening. Courfeyrac says the rumors are very contradictory and it is hard to tell what is truth and what is a lie. Lots of army, people is building barricades everywhere. Barricade is growing and more people are there. Gavroche comes over the barricade. Asks a worker who has the command. One who's called Enjolras. He wants to know if he is a general. Worker says no, the generals are on the other side. We are only brothers. Gavroche says Enjolras he wants to volunteer. Wants to send him to the ambulance. But Gavroche wants a gun. But Enjolras wants to arm first the men, then the women and only then the children. Gavroche leaves and comes back. Tells Courfeyrac and Enjolras there is a problem and draws their attention on Javert, and tells them how he offered him money to spy on them. For some reason he now knows his name. They arrest Javert and by binding him on the post at the entrance they want to show a warning to anyone who dares to betray them

they are awaiting the 1st attack Combeferre sees someone approaching. Enjolras says don't shoot, we know who it is. Bossuet says it's Gavroche. Gavroche wants his gun. who's there- french revolution. The whole Mabeuf thing except that they really present him as an ancient assemblyman who was "at the convent" (which is here not meant the place where nuns are, but the convention, which is apparently called convent in german for some reason). Javert gets another weird narrator-monologue where he denounces the stupidity of the students who throw their lives away and those of the workers because they always think you can change the world all of a sudden. And how they don't have a chance as badly equipped as they are against so many more well trained soldiers. That has to end badly. Either they die in the hail of bullets or "they are beheaded on the guillotine" (ok apparently this Javert has a guillotine obsession but doesn't know how such a thing works ) Javert goes back into the scenery where Joly reminds him that he will be next... The whole first attack plus Marius wants to blow the barricade up, and thus saves it, and asks for the leader, and Enjolras says its Marius. But all Marius wants is to be alone for a moment

Eponine dies and Marius discovers that Cosette still is in Paris

they sing and women bring food, they reprepare the weapons, basically drink with me mode I guess... Marius writes his letter to Cosette and asks Gavroche to bring it. Gavroche doesn't want to miss the next attack and thinks he shall wait... Marius insists that he has to leave now, that they won't attack until tomorrow. And then it will be too late to go because all the streets are closed. Gavroche goes.

It is night and they are trying to rest. One starts to sing the "Song of the Revolution (Musical)" and then the others join in. Combeferre and Gavroche come back. Gavroche has a bag of cartridges with him. Gavroche asks what is going on with them. Here no one sleeps anymore. The whole army of Paris is around etc. (basically what Enjolras says in the book divided between Gavroche and Combeferre) The whole we'll stay and build the barricade higher, conversation, and the uniform conversation, except it is reduced to the essential and Combeferre doesn't get to say anything, it is all Enjolras, in between Marius asks Gavroche who told him to come back. He says he delivered the letter "to the gatekeeper" Valjean comes with the 5th uniform, the 5 leave. Enjolras cares for Javert. Javert recognizes Valjean and says he's gonna have it easy now. Gavroche announces their arrival. A cannon is being heard, like it being rolled there. Cannon attack. 2 people die. Enjolras says this was a grapeshot, and that they needs to stop this cannon, i.e. that it needs to be "fireworker"'s turn. Gavroche says he takes that over. Before anyone can prevent him from doing so, he is up on the barricade and shooting. he hit his target, and is all excited and rejoicing about how he "blew out his lamp", that he evidently forgot that he is standying on a freaking barricade. This causes him to be also shot, of course, and he falls down dead right into the arms of Combeferre.

Enjolras says to all that the last one alive shall shoot the spy. Valjean asks Enjolras if he can crush this man's skull with his own hands, and since no one has objectsions he lets him. Final attack is announced by both Marius and horns. (yes another Hernani flashback for Autumn ) . Everyone goes to the barricade Valjean and Javert alone. Valjean frees Javert with the mention of the promise he made to the bishop of Digne to never do anything unjust. And killing him because he did his duty as a policman here today, or because he followed him his entire life would be wrong. And if he against the expectance should make it out of here alive he can find him in Rue de l'homme armé. Javert says he hates this kind of games, he shall rather kill him. Valjean tells him to leave. He shoots in the air and goes back to the others where he says he is done. Heavy shooting happens. One after the other the defendants of the barricade die. Valjean does stay at the background and doesn't shoot on the soldiers, yet he supports the defendants of the barricade. he realizes that Marius was hit and falls from the barricade. Valjean goes to him. And whereever he looks there are just dying or dead "revoluzzers" (yes, this is the word he uses in the script, not revolutionaries or something like that). During the very last attack on the barricade he carries Marius away from the barricade and can escape with him to the sewers. The soldiers pull the flags of the revolution out and plant the flag of the monarchy (whatever "the flag of the monarchy" may be)

Image/Act 6

We are in the sewers now. Barely conscious Valjean falls down on a sleeping Thenardier at the gate that leads out of the sewers who thinks he has made the great gain. and of course wants to steal from them. and comments this in a monologue this is observed by Javert. And of course now Thenardier is all about helping these people, if they aren't dead yet etc. Javert says him just to back off, calling him by his name. Thenardier insists to help, but he says he shall just leave. Valjean gets back his conscience and checks if Marius is still alive, wants to lift him up again, then sees Javert and lets him down again. But Javert just asked him if he needs help. Valjean says to Javert he hasn't given him the address , so that je can escape. Javert wants to know who that man is. And reminds Valjean what happened to those who were on the barricade. Valjean says he survives if he gets help quickly. He is a daredevil, an idealist, but a good person and he can do many good things yet for our country. Please let for once in your life reign mercy before law. Javert insists that he is dead Valjean says not yet. Insists that he needs to save Marius and then he says he'll come back They arrange a meeting at the same place at the same hour the next day.

Marius lies in the middle of the open square between Barricade and inn scenery. There is only the bed and Toussaint that cares ffor him and Cosette that is looking over him. Marius has a fever dream and is near death when they sees all the friends including Gavroche and eponing with the revolutionary flags and singing "The song of the barricade" climbing on the barricades. It is the german DYHTPS (Lied des Volkes), arranged kinda like the finale in the movie that came out notabene after this thing here. Basically Marius is convinced that they came to lead him to heaven, but in the end they get fainter again and in the end of the scene Marius is alive and awake and with cosette.

Javert derailed made by Javert-narrator which linguistically resembles the confusion of Javert Valjean comes in in the middle of that and says "here I am" Javert halfway awakens from his trance, makes a step towards Valjean, holds his pistol agains Valjean for 2 seconds, then he turns around makes two steps back and holds it against his head. Light goes out. Shot.

THE END.

#Swiss Les Mis #Les Mis uf Bärndütsch #Bärndütsch #Swiss theatre #les mis #les mis play #les mis script

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wildriverinthesky · 4 years

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LOVE POETRY

Darien knew what the others did not. Love wasn't necessary. He was one of the top ranked high school students in the nation, and he was already accepted into the best pre-med program in all of Japan. He did that all without help. Without parents. Without love.

His best friend Andrew was extremely aware of his feelings on love which was why, when they arrived at the Ancient Japanese Love Poetry section in their literature class, he began laughing. He knew what Darien's reaction would be before he even heard it.

Darien did startle him a little. His opinion on having to read the poems was that, "It will be interesting to see why people feel that love is important." Andrew chuckled, of course he should have realized that Darien would look at it as a social experiment.

After school, he sat at the counter of the Arcade and studied as Andrew worked. Never once did it dawn on him that he liked studying there, because it was one of the few places where he never felt alone.

Darien studied in peace, until Serena walked in. She marched up to the counter, and told Darien, "You owe me a milkshake!"

He rolled his eyes, and said, "What gave you that idea, Dumpling Head?"

She stomped her foot, and scrunched up her face, "You are a jerk, baka!" She huffed and added, "A month ago, you said you would buy me a milkshake, if I could make it to school, on time, three days in a row.

"It took you this long?!" he laughed at her.

"Baka! Yes, now buy me the milkshake, and I can go back to being popular over there, away from you." she gave him a fake smile.

"There is more to life than just being popular." he pointed out.

She rolled her eyes dramatically at him and said, "Not everyone can be like you!"

"Like me?"

She shot him an annoyed look, "Yea. Smart, good looking, and popular."

He didn't understand why his insides grew warm. "Aww, does Dumpling Head have a crush on me?"

With as much sarcasm as she could muster, she leaned forward and said, "Oh yea, baby. I want you so badly. My body gets tingly everytime you walk by. Now, send my milkshake over to the table. Andrew, knows what I like."

She stomped off, and he went back to his homework. He rolled his eyes as he opened up the Ancient Japanese Poetry book. He read:

How desolate my former life,

Those dismal years, era yet

I chanced to see thee face to face;

'Twere better to forget

Those days before we met

By Atsutada

He couldn't figure out why that poem made him so uncomfortable. He fidgeted in his seat a bit. He then slammed his book shut, ordered Serena a milkshake, paid for it, and went home.

It was two horrible weeks later that he finally couldn't fight it any more. He, Darien Shields, had actually fallen in love. And, he was completely distraught. He didn't have time for love, not with his goals. And there were times when he believed that was the real reason for not confronting the fact that he was in love with Serena. In the moments when the truth seeped in, and he was honest with how he felt, he knew that it was that he was scared.

He was scared that, in his life, love didn't last. It wasn't like it faded. It literally died. Leaving him alone. He was also scared that he had fallen in love with the one girl at school that wasn't interested in him. He had received enough love letters to know what a girl acted like when they were thinking of confessing to him. That was when he usually made it a point to let them know that he couldn't remember their name. The love letters had really tapered off after employing that tactic.

He sat at the Arcade and worked through his math problems as he listened to Serena entertaining her friends. As always, she had them howling with laughter. He even quietly chuckled along from time to time.

Andrew refilled his coffee cup and asked, "Okay, what's up with you lately? You seem off. I am starting to get concerned."

Darien sighed and calculated the risk of telling Andrew. He knew Andrew would never tell his secret. He just didn't like the feeling of being vulnerable, even with his best friend. He thought about facing his feelings alone, without any support, and he sighed. He didn't like that feeling either.

He looked around to make sure that no one was near and motioned to Andrew to listen carefully. "I have come to realize that I have feelings for someone."

Shock briefly flashed past Andrew's face before he schooled his features. "Who? If you don't mind telling me. You know I would never say anything."

Darien nodded, "I know." He then paused. He didn't want Andrew to confirm his worst fears. He looked around to make sure they were still alone and pushed on. "Serena."

Andrew had better control of his emotions this time. Truthfully, the biggest shock of it all was that Darien was admitting to any feelings. After that, it was hard to surprise him. He decided to give Darien his honest opinion, "Well, leave it to you to pick the kindest girl. Of course, when you have a crush on someone, it would be her. You have a knack for going after the best of everything with your apartment, pre-med program, car. Now, if you ask her out, people are really going to be even more jealous of you."

Darien snorted, "As if I stand a chance with her."

"Wait, you want to ask her out?" Andrew failed to mask his surprise.

Darien looked up at him in confusion, "Want to? Yes. Will? No way. There is no way she would consider dating me."

Andrew stood there and thought about all of the things that Darien had said to her in this very spot.

"You really think that much of her?" Darien asked.

Andrew nodded in response and said, "Maybe you should be nicer to her."

The next day, while Darien was studying, Serena walked in and skipped up to the counter. She took one look at Darien and said, "I need your help."

"And, what makes you think I would help you, Dumpling Head?" Darien immediately cringed and thought, Shit! That wasn't being nicer. He could almost feel Andrew rolling his eyes behind him.

He did see Serena roll her eyes. She said, "Because, baka, you just pretend to be a jerk to me. I actually need help and you haven't ever said 'no' when I really needed it."

Darien heard Andrew drop a glass, and it shattered. Then he heard him muttering to himself about being clumsy. He understood what led to him dropping the glass. She shocked him too.

"Oh, yea?" was his admittedly lame reply.

"Yes, and it's a big favor. I need you to be my plus one to a formal dinner Friday. My father is receiving an award for one of the photos he took last year for the paper. It is a big deal for him and his career. His boss's, boss's, boss will be sitting at our table for the banquet. I get a plus one and I need to bring someone who's impressive. You wouldn't even have to pretend like it was a date. You would just have to be nice to me for one evening." she looked up at him expectantly.

"So, you want me to dress up for a not-date on Friday?"

She nodded, "And, really, you wouldn't have to act like we are together. My father will introduce you as my friend, and everyone will expect him to do that. No one would expect you to even come close to touching me in front of my father."

"Wait, so everyone will assume I am your boyfriend, but I won't have to act like it?" he asked.

She sighed and rolled her eyes, "We will tell them you aren't my boyfriend, and they might assume otherwise."

Well, that sucked. He wondered when he was friend-zoned so badly. "So, I am there to make you seem smart?"

She rolled her eyes dramatically and said, "No, you are there to keep the son of my father's boss's, boss's, boss from hitting on me all night. Again."

Now he was a heck of a lot more on board with going. "Wait, he hits on you?"

"Believe it or not, some men find me attractive." she harrumphed. "I just am not the type who falls all over themselves for a rich, attractive man."

Andrew scoffed, "Yea, because those are awful."

She smiled at him and laughed, "Okay, so he has other qualities I don't like. I am just saying that I won't overlook them because of the money or his face."

Darien pried, "It isn't really his money though, is it? It would be his father's."

"Actually, it is. Right after graduating college, he got a job at a company that deals in logistics and transportation. Apparently he made such a good name for himself, he made VP in six months. I am sure having a wealthy daddy helped." she informed them.

Andrew's brows furrowed, "How much older than you is he?"

"Six years. That, being one of the reasons I don't want to date him. What successful guy goes for a girl that is a senior in high school? I didn't like his answer, either."

Darien wasn't sure he wanted to know, but he asked anyway, "What was his answer?"

"It was insulting, actually. He said, if I am this beautiful now, I will grow up to be even prettier. He then said he got to VP so young because he could see raw potential. He said we could go far together." she said in a melancholy tone. "I am not, and will never be, a trophy wife."

She huffed and stared at him when he didn't say anything to that. She said, "This is where you say, 'You wouldn't make much of a trophy, Dumpling Head.' I will call you 'baka' and then you agree to help me after I plead some more. Do I need to actually do the pleading part? Or, can we skip that, and pretend it happened?"

One of the reasons Andrew was Darien's best friend was because he had an ability to know when Darien wanted to be left alone. He proved that again when he said, "I have some re-stocking to do." Then he walked away, leaving them to talk.

Darien had to admit that the guy was right. She would grow up to be even more beautiful and make the perfect wife. Not only would she be lovely, but she would also be kind, gentle, caring, loving. The list went on. Andrew assumed he had a crush. His feelings were no mere crush.

"So, you are asking me because I am rich and good looking? You admitted as much before."

"No."

"Just, no? You are asking me for my help."

"You are also fun to be around. I would like having you there." she admitted.

His shock showed on his face when he said, "Fun? No one has ever accused me of that."

"You don't have fun when we banter? I assumed you did. I am the only girl you talk to after all. You would have to be getting something out of it."

"I talk to other girls."

She huffed and rolled her eyes, "I will amend my statement. I am the only girl you talk to when it isn't school work related or going to end up with someone crying in the girls' bathroom." He went to speak, and she held up her hand. "I know you aren't interested in girls." There was an awkward pause and she said, "I will amend that statement too. You aren't interested in dating right now. You are focused on your grades and your goals."

"Who said I am not interested in dating?" His brows knit together, and his fingers twitched.

"Your actions. I get that these girls that ask you out don't really know you, and you have no reason to say 'yes.' I mean, just because you help them with a question they have on their homework doesn't mean you are falling for them. But, you are more than capable of asking someone out, and you haven't. What else should I assume other than the fact that, if you haven't bothered to, you don't want to."

He snorted, "I do like someone. There's just no way that, if I asked her out, she would say 'yes.'"

Serena dissolved into hysterics. She started laughing so hard that she was struggling to breathe. When she calmed down enough, she said, "You are way too funny."

"I'm serious." He didn't really like his heartbreak being taken so lightly. Especially from the very one his heart was set on. Some of that showed on his face.

She looked him in the eye, and paled. "You're serious. You really are interested in someone." She took a step back and pulled at the hem of her shirt. "Forget I asked you anything. I will leave you alone."

She walked away, found a booth to sit at, and set her bag down next to her. He followed her over and sat across from her. "What just happened there?"

"We can't give whoever it is the wrong idea with you taking me to the awards dinner." she mumbled.

"So, this is because I am interested in someone? What if I told you I was kidding?" He wanted to make this right.

"You weren't. I saw it in your eyes. You wanted me to take you seriously. I do."

"What if going with you to this dinner didn't bother her? It won't." he was absolutely sure of that in fact.

Her eyes teared up, and she said, "Oh. Um…" A few tears had started falling down her cheeks.

"Why are you starting to cry?"

Raye was behind him and hit him in the head. "You get the hell away from her, right now. You can't ask her why she is crying after you said THAT to her! Baka, is right!"

His eyes grew huge, "What did I say?"

Raye yanked him out of the chair and made him follow her. She hissed at him saying, "You just said that she is so unthreatening to this other girl that she wouldn't mind if you went to this dinner with Serena. Is she really that insignificant to you?"

He hissed back, "Well, she is only asking me to keep someone else from flirting with her."

"So, she is asking you because you are impressive. You would say yes because she is insignificant?" Ray countered, glaring at him.

He sighed, and looked over at Serena noticing the booth was empty. He panicked, and then yelled to Andrew, "Please watch my things!" He then raced out after her.

He saw her on the sidewalk and yelled for her to stop. She did, and when she turned around, there were still tears in her eyes.

He let out all of the air in his lungs in a big woosh. He then said, "I can't do this to you of all people. Please stop crying. You've misunderstood everything, and I promise you that you assumed wrong. You are amazing."

She stopped crying and looked up at him with curiosity.

He rubbed his hands through his hair, and said, "I am going to tell you something that you have to promise to forget. I am also going to say 'yes' to this Friday, right now." He sighed, and didn't ask her for the actual promise. He knew she wouldn't be able to keep it. "I really don't want to tell you who I am interested in but, it is more important to me that I don't hurt you than it is for me to keep the secret. We have been friends for a while, and you are right. You are the only girl I enjoy talking to. Serena, the girl I am interested in wouldn't mind, because she's you."

His stomach instantly tied in knots. His feelings were out there, and he couldn't take them back. He pivoted on his right foot and walked back to the Arcade to collect his things including what was left of his dignity.

He felt a strong grip on his arm and turned. He was surprised that it was Serena with all of that strength. She rolled her eyes, stomped her foot, and said, "Baka, you can't say that and just walk away. You didn't wait to hear how I feel. Of course, the way we start dating will be with you thinking that you already know everything! Typical!" she huffed.

"Start dating?"

"You said you would go to the awards dinner with me Friday, right?" He nodded. "You implied that you wanted to date me, right?" He nodded again. "So, since I would say 'yes.' That would mean that we have started dating. Or, does that logic not work out? You are supposed to be smarter than me."

"Wait… wha…? You want to date me?"

She sighed, "Do you only speak in the form of a question now?"

He shook his head as if to clear it. "Sorry… I just convinced myself that there was no way you would be interested in me."

"Kind guy, always willing to help me, enjoys banter. Yea, there is nothing to like there." she said, dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, and wear a tuxedo. It would look good on you."

"Um… okay. Really?"

She laughed, "Are you back to speaking in questions?"

"Sorry, no. I am just a little shocked." he admitted.

She smiled, and it lit her whole face. "You really thought that you didn't stand a chance with me?"

He nodded, "You are perfect and everything that is good and kind in this world."

Her eyes misted up this time with happy tears.

He leaned down and kissed her, making her toes curl.

He then laced their fingers together, and said, "So, where should we go on our second date then?"

How desolate my former life,

Those dismal years, era yet

I chanced to see thee face to face;

'Twere better to forget

Those days before we met

By Atsutada

#mamoru chiba #mamoru #darien #darien sheields #usagi #usagi tuskino #serena #serena tsukino #sailor moon #mamoru and usagi in love #love poem #love confession #angst #romance #soulmate #true love #love poetry

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rosegrl18 · 4 years

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Day Twelve - First “I love you”s

Fandom: Kamen Rider Saber

Pairing(s): Mei Sudo x Rintaro Shindo

Prompt: Day Twelve - First “I love you”s

Notes:

She'd let her guard down again. Now she was, once again, in the clutches of Storious and his Megid. She didn't even want to think about what Storious had in mind for her because she knew it was nothing good. With his strong grip on her neck, he held her in place as he ordered his Megid to put her into a deep sleep. Ah, now things made sense to Mei. The Megid must have been from a Wonder Ride Book based on "Sleeping Beauty". If the Megid was going to put her into a deep sleep, she was sure even the Megid's defeat wouldn't wake her up. Mei closed her eyes and prepared for the Megid's attack.

The Megid launched her attack, engulfing Mei in mystical energy that put her into a deep sleep. Storious released his grip on Mei and sent her unconscious body dropping to the ground. He smirked and told his Megid to retreat for the time being. The two Megid retreated back to their headquarters, leaving Team Saber to tend to the unconscious Mei. Touma held Rintaro back from charging Storious, stating that coming up with a plan to save Mei was more important than reckless revenge.

Ryo scooped Mei into his arms and made his way toward Fantastic Bookstore Kamiyama. Once in the bookstore, the plan was that Team Saber would walk through the Book Gate to Northern Base and consult with Sophia on what the next course of action should be in order to save Mei. A plan would also be made to defeat the Megid. Kento and Ren looked at Rintaro and noticed that he looked just as he had after Zooous had finished gloating about killing his master, Nagamine-sensei. He wasn't his typical calm, cool, and collected self anymore, and that was concerning.

After what seemed like forever, Team Saber finally reached Fantastic Bookstore Kamiyama. Everyone filed in and headed for the Book Gate at the back of the store. Opening up the door, Rintaro was the first one through. Touma ran after him, just to make sure he didn't do anything too reckless. Kento and Ren were next, with Ryo bringing up the rear with Mei. The quintet of swordsmen ran into the large library that served many functions for the Sword of Logos' members.

"Sophia-san, we need your help! Mei's in trouble!" Touma pleaded.

"Please calm down and tell me what happened."

"Storious created a Megid who puts her victims to sleep. I'm not sure exactly how she does it, but when Mei was hit, I noticed an energy output."

"The Megid must be using a type of sleep energy to put her victims into a sleep state. Do we have any idea how deep the sleep state is?"

"We don't, but if we could figure out which story the Megid is from, it'll help us out a lot."

Touma turned to Kento.

"You're right. That would help us out a lot. Knowing which story the Megid came from would help us devise a plan to defeat her and wake her victims up. Our clues are "fairy tale", "sleep", and "energy". Does anyone have any ideas?"

Everyone thought hard for a few moments, then, Kento's head shot up.

"Could it be possible for the Megid to be based on "Sleeping Beauty"? It's a fairy tale, the heroine is put to sleep, and there're magic elements in the story. Touma, you said you noticed an energy output after the Megid attacked. Could that energy output have been some sort of sleep magic?"

"It had to be. If she's a Megid created from the "Sleeping Beauty" Wonder Ride Book, then yes, she most likely attacks her victims with sleep magic. If we can defeat her, all of her victims should wake up."

"I'll go with you, Touma. You can't defeat her alone."

"I wanna go with Kento too!"

"I'll be there too!"

Ren just grinned like an idiot at Touma.

"We will all go."

The grin slid off of Ren's face as the tone suddenly shifted.

"No, Rintaro. I'll go. You stay here with Sophia, Tetsuo-kun, and Mei. I'm sure your face is the first thing Mei will want to see upon waking up."

He handed Mei off to Rintaro and joined Touma, Kento, and Ren in preparation to fight the Megid.

"Alright, let's go. The quicker we defeat her, the quicker her victims will wake up and no one else can be targeted." The four swordsmen left Northern Base.

"Rintaro, please place her here." Sophia motioned to a table off to the side, with various monitors hooked up to it. "We need to track her vitals."

Rintaro placed Mei on the table and Tetsuo hooked up the various monitors to Mei, watching as her vital signs came up on the screens.

"It would seem as though the Megid placed her in a state of a deep sleep, deeper than we initially believed."

"What does that mean, Sophia-san?"

"It means that even if the Megid is defeated, Mei still may not wake up."

"Why?"

"I'm afraid I don't have those answers for you, Rintaro. There's still a chance that defeating the Megid will cause her to awaken, but the fact that she was placed into a deep sleep state doesn't make that likely. There may be another method we need to employ to awaken her."

"What method would that be?"

"Tell me, Rintaro. Have you ever read the "Sleeping Beauty" fairy tale?"

"No, I have not. What is it about?"

"A beautiful, young woman is placed into a deep sleep state by an evil witch and she is only awoken by the power of true love's kiss."

"Mei and I have not been a couple for very long. We have not even kissed or told each other "I love you"."

"It doesn't matter how long you've been together, Rintaro. If your love is true, then your kiss will awaken her."

Just then, Tetsuo's Gatrikephone rang. It was Touma calling him to say they had defeated the Megid, and all of her victims near them had woken up. Tetsuo had to tell him that Mei was the only victim that hadn't woken up yet.

"Rintaro, I think you know what you have to do."

"Yes, Sophia-san. May we have a moment alone, please?"

"Of course." Sophia and Tetsuo left the room, leaving Rintaro alone with Mei.

"Mei, I am terrified at this moment. I am terrified that I am going to lose the kind, sweet, bubbly girl lying in front of me. I never want to lose you. I never want to experience the heartbreak of spending one more moment of my life without you. I swear on Suiseiken Nagare that, I, Rintaro Shindo, love you, Mei Sudo."

He leaned down and touched his lips to hers. He felt as though he'd violated her, but knew it was a necessary step in waking her up. He stepped back from the table and waited, watching to see what happened next. A few seconds passed, and then what seemed like minutes. Nothing was happening and Rintaro wondered if she didn't feel the same way. He looked down at the floor as if there was something more interesting there than what was right in front of him. The machines began beeping loudly and Rintaro thought he was going to lose the love of his life. However, when he looked up at the table, he noticed Mei had her eyes open. She was awake!

"Mei? Can you hear me? Are you alright?"

Mei yawned a bit, still slightly tired from her ordeal. She was also very confused. One minute, she was being held and nearly strangled by Storious, and the next, she was asleep. She couldn't remember anything after that.

"I'm fine, Rintaro. I'm just a bit tired and very confused."

"A Megid put you into a deep sleep state. The Megid was from "Sleeping Beauty"."

"I actually had that worked out before she put me to sleep. Did defeating her wake me up?"

"Not exactly. From what I could hear Touma say over the phone, the rest of her victims woke up immediately following her defeat. However, you were in a deeper state of sleep than they were, so it took longer for you to awaken."

"I also remember the fairy tale having something to do with "true love's kiss"? At the end of the story, she's awoken by a kiss from the prince!"

"I cannot recall, but I do not think that is what originally happened."

Mei pouted and pulled herself off the table, unhooking the machines as she went.

"So, how exactly did you wake me up, Rintaro?"

He looked down at the ground, attempting to avoid eye contact with his girlfriend. He shuffled his feet a little and was dreading answering her question. His cheeks and tips of his ears were burning and he was afraid of what she might say if she knew.

"Would you believe me if I told you that you eventually woke up on your own?"

"No."

"I woke you up with "true love's kiss"."

"I thought that only worked in fairy tales!"

"Now we know that it also works to dispel a Megid's magical powers derived from a fairy tale."

"Right. Fairy tale Megid, fairy tale abilities, fairy tale way of dispelling the magic."

Rintaro smiled a bit as his girlfriend worked things out.

"I wish to tell you something, Mei."

"What is it, Rintaro?"

"When you were attacked by Storious and his Megid, I was terrified. I was terrified because I thought I was going to lose you. You are kind, sweet, caring, bubbly, and the list continues. However, one thing will never change and that is the fact that I never want to experience the heartbreak of spending one more moment of my life without you. I have already lost my master and I do not wish to lose you too. I swear on my holy blade, Suiseiken Nagare, that I, Rintaro Shindo, love you, Mei Sudo and I will always protect you, no matter what."

Mei was stunned. This was the first time Rintaro told her "I love you". Granted, it was in his own sweet, dorky way, but it was a confession nonetheless. She smiled a bit and launched herself into his arms, nearly knocking him off his feet.

"I assume that your reaction means you love me too?"

"Yes, you sweet, sweet, adorable dork. I love you too, Rintaro."

#mags's otptober

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bladengineer · 4 years

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Bladebreakers: College Edition

anyone who’s already read my fics knows exactly what i’m about, so lets get straight to business about the college headcanons im about to slap yall with

also all under the cut bc this went way too long lmfao Hilary and Kenny should follow shortly bc it got really long and im just. oops

Kai is the first to go which is like. logical considering he’s the oldest and most driven out of all of them

not to mention he had the entirety of Hiwatari Corp. about to be put into his name as soon as he reached 18 and he’s just like aw man here we go

to be honest? he’s not keen on taking over the company, never has been (excluding the time where he felt obligated to under his grandfather’s influence) and the thought of actually having too just kinda. embitters him

so he gets himself sucked into the whole Business classes to get himself the necessary qualifications – and despite being bitter, he doesn’t half-ass shit so he studies on the regular

it isn't until Max wrangles him into finally giving his own interests a go and he changes his path to a History Major with a Minor in Business

he is so much happier

History, specifically Ancient History, had always been an avid interest in Kai’s books so he basically dives into his new studies with his own brand of stoic enthusiasm

its also the sole reason why he’s been amassing so many books in his personal collection at home, Hilary had implored him to buy bigger shelves after Max nearly broke his neck tripping over a loose pile

Kai likes to study alone, preferably in his private study (Tyson keeps making fun of him for having a private study at the age of 18, what are you, a grandpa? damn rich kid lmao) with soft instrumental music playing – he’s especially fond of rainy ambience music

of course, Kai is often seated at the back of the classes, but is indisputably one of the best students with very insightful and well-researched essays, naturally, most of his professors adore him

except a select few traditional-minded professors – they’re still bitter that Kai stood his ground when they had overlooked Cleopatra’s history and reduced her to the Ancient Sex Symbol and Kai was ready to cut a bitch at the blatant disrespect towards an Ancient Political Mastermind

the majority in his class has a fat crush on him but thats nothing new

Max, for a long time, had a bit of a dilemma as his parents urge him to start choosing his preferred path; was it going to be Engineering like his Mother or Mechanics like his Father, and honestly? the poor boy was so torn

in the end, he confessed he wanted to do neither – he loved Beyblade but it wasn’t something he wanted to dedicate his life to forever

instead, his heart had always belonged to the ocean and he dreams of being a Marine Biologist

his father was very supportive, while Judy had her doubts so it took a little convincing – in the end, her son’s joy was more important to her and she too gave her blessing for him to pursue his dream

Max goes on to major Zoology, directed towards marine animals, and takes up a minor in Engineering because hey, it pretty much runs in his family and it stayed an avid interest of his

his university wasn’t too far of from Kai’s own, so sometimes when he stays over at Kai’s he gets a free ride to class

he returns the gesture by always providing the best butter croissants for breakfast (they’re still warm too!)

Max usually studies in the campus library, noise-cancelling headphones on, bopping silently to whatever music he’s listening to as he reviews his notes for the next exam

he researches a lot for his topics and has collected so much trivia about the ocean and its inhabitants in general

Max: did you know jellyfishes have no brain? Kai: Max don’t bully Tyson Tyson: excuse me?

the professors love Max tbh, he’s always fully engaged within class so they usually let him get away with things mainly bc he’s just their Favourite

pretty sure half of the university knows of Max in some way or another, being a social butterfly and all and maybe having flooded the campus once by accident

Ray also had a hard time deciding what to do and what to study; being from a rural village with traditions certainly made him question wether he should pursue a modern career or stay within his community

the White Tigers were quick to kick his ass over it however, booting him straight to Kai’s doorstep and telling him to do what he feels was right for him

now, he’s managed to get himself applied to one of the prestigious university for culinary arts – he’s not too sure yet which path he wants to take in terms of culinary skill

he loves cooking and working in a kitchen, however after many work experiences he has found that working at the command of someone else wasn't exactly to his tastes, not to mention, he’d like to dabble in more traditional culinary arts

as of now, Ray particularly enjoys the sweeter side of cooking, preferring to create intricate pastries and confectionaries, often stemming from his chinese roots but also applying his skill within the japanese side of things

his homemade mooncakes are honestly to die for

next to his obvious passion for cooking, he’s also taken up classes in horticulture, mainly bc he’d love to grow his own ingredients and create his own sets of spices and various artisan products

since his career path is very labour focused, he often practices at home and takes inspiration from various chefs all around the world. his bookshelves are full of recipe books and general insightful cookbooks

Max had suggested to him to make videos of his dishes, mainly for self-improvement, but also being able to put them online to start a crowd interest for his work

its going pretty well actually, his videos have become quite popular since they are aesthetically pleasing, the food looks tasty as hell and also a wide crowd of older people have voiced their joy in seeing more traditional confectionary being made

his friends secretly love their birthdays nowadays bc without fail, Ray always gifts them homemade foods, from neat boxes of handcrafted chocolates to cute jars of sweet jams

he knows, he always takes time to create flavours he knows they will appreciate

Tyson, surprisingly, knew exactly what he wanted to do, and it wasn’t anything to do with Beyblade

Hilary: WHAT ARE YOU SICK Tyson: i- no? i just– Ray: hold on maybe he’s running a fever Tyson: would yOU GUYS JUST LISTEN–

look, he loves Beyblade, it’s something he’ll treasure all his life, something he’ll still pursue in the future, but

it won’t be what he wants to do full time

instead, he majors in Anthropology in order to pave his way into Archeology and everyone is so proud they start crying

next to his Major, he also minors in Business, mainly due to his longstanding position within the BBA, with whom he stays as a particular poster boy and star

next to his work with the BBA, he occasionally helps out in the Dojo and everyone kinda realises? that this guy is literally holding down two (2) whole jobs while also studying and if that isn't hardcore my dudes i don’t know

then again, he’s grown a lot and his interest in his father’s career had always accompanied him since he was a kid – however, his studying habits are still all kinds of atrocious and the only reason why he can even halfway ace his exams is bc he refuses to go down quietly, actually is really critical and analytical is he puts his head into it, and the fact that he employs Hilary to stand vigil with a rolled up magazine to smack him back into focus should he slack off

otherwise, he’s friends with most people in his class and regularly exchanges notes with them and even has become a favourite with a select few of his professors

most just find him exhausting but can’t refute his elaborate essays, which are both thoughtful as eyebrow raising

he attends the same university as Kai (much to his chagrin) and they stick together just as much as they bicker (one-sidedly) just like old times – however, they are both ancient history buffs and its one of the very few topics that they can be heard talking about in actual peace without Tyson going apeshit when Kai loses interest in the conversation

Tyson and Kai are also those college students who pull ridiculous all nighters to study

Max once got so nervous for an exam he made a terrifying concoction of Red Bull and Instant Coffee to stay up and study

he aced the exam but he cannot for the life of him remember what he did in those 24hours bc as soon as he went home he crashed for nearly 32hours straight

Tyson and Ray who were present at the time refuse to speak about it and when asked about it, they kinda just. disassociate for a minute at the sheer horror they had witnessed

Kai rarely ever communicates with classmates yet somehow gets always invited to all the frat parties

who are those people? he doesn’t know

#beyblade #bakuten shoot beyblade #beyblade headcanon #engineering some headcanons #bladebreakers #i low-key love those college aus only bc the amount of shenanigans they could get into #actually i should make a more extensive list about their shenanigans #bc this was literally halfway a meta about my own deductions of the characters #HM.

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pantherlover · 5 years

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Rosemary and Rue Re-Read: Part 1

I decided that I wanted to do kind of a deep-dive re-read of the October Daye books, to see if I could catch any clues I missed during my first read, and to see if I could come up with any theories about where the story is going to go. PLEASE come and discuss things with me if you’re at all interested! Or remind me of something I’ve forgotten! I have a feeling I won’t make it as far as I’d like if I don’t have proper motivation lol.

Note: While I haven’t read a lot of the books in a while, particularly the first two, I have read all of them up to Night and Silence at some point and I will be referring to things that happen in later books as I go along. These will not be spoiler free recaps.

Prologue/Chapter 1

Prologue

This phone call between Cliff and Toby in the opening scene is basically the only time that I like Cliff in the entire series - it’s genuinely sweet, and I really love Toby’s goodbye (although it does feel like she was tempting fate a little bit). I think it does a good job of showing what Toby’s lost when she gets back and realizes that not only did he not wait for her, he’s basically turned her daughter against her too.

(That might be a little harsh, but I am seriously Not A Fan of Cliff. I will totally own up to the fact that a lot of that dislike is Toby bias, but I judge his handling of the situation a little. I know Toby disappearing and him being forced to raise Gilly by himself is a really difficult situation, and I don’t blame him at all for moving on (and not just because I like Tybalt better). 14 years is a long time to hold on to someone that’s probably never going to come back, and I think it’s completely reasonable that he decided that he didn’t want to raise Gilly by himself.

... That decision absolutely did not have to involve letting Gilly think that Toby abandoned them and didn’t love her. Cliff can say that he made the choice to let Gilly think that for her sake all he wants, I flat out do not believe that Gilly thinking that her mother abandoned her, and letting some other woman replace her was better for Gilly. I also don’t really think that he believed that Toby had abandoned them; he loved her, enough that they were raising a child together, and yet he didn’t know her well enough to know that she’d never run away from her responsibilities? Bullshit. I think it’s a lot more likely that thinking she’d left on her own was easier for him to let himself believe, because it’s a lot easier to move on from a woman who’d abandoned him to raise a child on his own than to move on from a woman who had possibly been killed while working a potentially dangerous job)

I really like the marsh water charms! I was kind of sad that they fell by the wayside when Toby’s powers got stronger, but maybe they’ll be used more often since they were brought up again in Night and Silence.

I forgot how much Toby struggled with using magic in the beginning of the series. It’s super infuriating to realize that that was a deliberate choice on Amandine’s part - not just trying to turn Toby human, but to not teach her how to use her own magic to protect herself. It’s especially infuriating because we know that she taught August about her own heritage.

“I go out, I find out what’s going on, and I let the knights who earned their titles in battle take over. I’m not stupid; I don’t engage.” This line, and the line coming up where Toby says she “doesn’t have a death wish” get funnier the longer the series goes on. I want to know exactly how much Seanan McGuire cackled when she wrote that line.

Toby demonstrates her STELLAR detective skills by narrating how Very Suspicious Simon’s current living arrangements are, and then... failing to consider that he might be setting up a trap. How on earth did Toby ever become a private detective when she is the LEAST curious person ever. (I’m still waiting for her to go back to the Library to research bloodlines; that way, she might actually notice the next time a Firstborn randomly shows up in her orbit instead of being surprised by it)

It does seem very suspicious, rereading this book, how... human, Simon’s set up is? Toby notes that he’s paying cash at his rental; that doesn’t really seem like something that someone from the Summerlands would’ve picked up on, as opposed to someone who’s used to operating in the mortal realm. It definitely feels like Simon deliberately set this up so that Toby would notice, and no one else.

Now we meet Oleander de Merelands. Given how much Evening hates mixing bloodlines, she employs a surprising amount of people with mixed blood. (Also, Toby says that Oleander is half Tuatha, half Peri. We’ve met Tuatha before, but I don’t think we’ve met any Peri yet. Something to look forward to?)

And here’s where Toby gets turned into a fish, thus beginning her Trials and Tribulations. I don’t remember a lot of the plot of The Winter Long, but I do remember that Simon insists that turning Toby into a fish was the merciful option. I think it’s interesting that Simon’s ‘mercy’ results in the exact same situation that led him down this path in the first place - losing her fiance and child. Especially because he deliberately puts Sylvester through this too, so his malicious actions and his merciful actions end with the same results. (Simon, why are you so terrible at everything)

I also think it’s fascinating to compare how all three of them handle the situation - Sylvester completely falls apart until he gets his wife and daughter back (and even when they do come back, their relationship is fractured to the point where Rayseline tried to murder her own mother, and might never be repaired), which nearly costs him his other daughter. Simon tries so hard to find his daughter - despite it being her own choice to be lost - which ends not only with both of them still out of his reach, but with Simon losing himself, first metaphorically and then literally. Toby, on the other hand, accepts that her family is lost to her (or at least tries to accept that) and is able to move on and build a new family for herself.

So, I have a question: We know from The Brightest Fell that the reason that Luna and Rayseline were kidnapped was because Evening wanted Toby gone, so Simon used them to draw Toby out. Was it ever explained what Toby did to make Evening want her gone at this point in time? I don’t think it was Toby finding the knowe - I believe it’s been several years since the knowe was found, and while Evening’s clearly capable of long term plans, I think she’d be impatient to get rid of a threat she’d consider ‘beneath’ her. Does anyone have any ideas, or remember from a later book?

Chapter 1

I think the woman with ‘oily black curls’ buying ice cream and diet coke is the first appearance of the Luidaeg. If it is, then she’s the first in a long line of ‘seemingly inconsequential, unnamed characters who appear in the background and then turn out to be VITALLY IMPORTANT later in the story.’ I’m going to try to keep track of these moments; we’ll see how well I do.

Mitch! I LOVE Mitch and Stacy; I really hope that they can have bigger roles in an upcoming book. Maybe they can help Toby when she tries to rebuild Home?

I don’t normally reread the first two books, and this scene with Toby at her job is reminding me why. She is crushingly lonely, and she feels like she deserves to be, because she feels like she failed everyone - failed Raysel and Luna by not finding them, failed Sylvester by not being there, failed Cliff and Gilly by abandoning them - while completely ignoring how they failed her too, by not looking for her.

I think this introduction scene with Tybalt is the one time in the entire series where I actually believe Toby when she says he doesn’t like her. This is definitely the most outright assholish he ever is with her, and there’s no real underlying affection to combat his dickishness. I really wanted to punch him in the face during this scene the first time I read the book.

I really like the description of how Toby literally grabs shadows to use in her illusions. I don’t think I’ve ever heard magic described like that in any other series; it’s very creative.

That’s the first two chapters! WOW I had no idea this was going to get this long. Again, please please PLEASE come talk to me about these books! I have been dying to find people to discuss these books with for ages.

#October Daye #Rosemary and Rue #ReRead Project

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reclaimingmypower · 4 years

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same or different person?

going through the process of setting up this blog, I went into my google photos library to find an avatar pic. being in the modern era we exist in, google has the cool/creepy feature of identifying faces so that you can have your entire library sorted by all the different people in your life. hell, they can even identify my cat minnie! maybe it is kind of unsettling that facial recognition has progressed to this point when you think about all the ways it could be abused, but it sure is convenient when looking for a specific photo of someone. but isn’t that the tradeoff, most of the time? convenience versus autonomy? i don’t know. i think about all of the hypocritical actions i do all the time that go against my beliefs just for the sake of convenience. i mean, i have an amazon package at my door almost every week. me and my mom are indirectly employed by them. i don’t know how to escape the contradiction other than to not think about it.

but back to my first thought. going through the many pictures of me, prompted with the inquiry: “same or different person?”. and of course, those pictures from months ago, early and mid 2020, those are still me. same name at least. but there’s so much that’s different. i got a haircut, for starters. best one i’ve ever had. like, life-changing level shit. i finally found someone who understands my curls and it is AMAZING. beyond that though, me and her, we have such different life experiences. she hasn’t been through a breakup with her boyfriend of almost 5 years. she hasn’t started on the arduous journey of actually connecting to herself and listening to her intuition. she was still following the regularly scheduled programming, set into place by outside forces born into being generations ago. she was starting on the journey of being more aware, but she was still seeking external validation. it’s like that paradox with the ship getting replaced one piece at a time, and the question is, at what point does that ship lose it’s former identity? as amalgamations of living chemical units that work together for the sole purpose of it’s own propagation, we are not only physically a different person, but are we even a person at all? is any conceptualization actually objective, or are we all here trying to squint our eyes until a bunch of atoms become a chair?

our brains, the most complex thing we know of in the universe, allow us to construct this ego that defines where we end and the rest of the universe begins. but is this just an illusion, a byproduct of our evolution? the ability to be aware of our own existence, consciousness, is what helped our species progress to our current state. but along with this awareness we developed biases, frameworks that limited our cognitive processing into neatly defined and predictable pathways. but we still possess that consciousness, that ability to be aware. to sit back, to take on the role of observer. and that is what i want to do with this blog. i want this to be a place for me to observe my thought processes, and catalog what i think about on a regular basis. i want to reconnect to what it is that i have denied myself for so many years. and yeah, i haven’t written in a while so it might start out kind of shit. but the important thing is i’m writing something. this isn’t for a grade or for the consumption of anyone other than myself and the Universe (which are pretty much the same thing).

what i do know is, i am a different person. every moment i am. every moment that i allow myself to live in, consciously and in the present, without judgement, fear, or limitation, is a fertile garden, anxious for the growth of something new. i may not really know what i’m doing. but that’s okay. i just needed the courage to start, and the humility to release all of the expectations i always held for myself.

hi tumblr. it’s been a while. there’s a lot of shit to sift through. but i’m proud of myself for taking this step. this first step of many on the journey to reclaim my power.

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smellycinnamonthundahfudge · 5 years

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5 gifts peter got for mj and 1 she gave him

im still alive bishes haha. am i really just choosing to participate in a different prompt that i barely have anything planned out for instead of finishing the one i was late in following up on? yes i am. prep urselves for some gift giving spideychelle to develop their relationship pre-ffh hehe

after hoco and peter starts to gain a work spidey life balance, he finally starts to notice that mj apparently... cares... about... him???

it wasn't obvious at first, hidden under a layer of deadpan sarcasm and witty comebacks, but the interest seemed to be there

which was why every time peter would miss a meeting, he'd actually feel bad this time because he really did want to be there this time

he'd feel terrible every time mj would ask him where he was, why he didn't show up. she was hoping he'd show and he let her down.

the first couple of times it happens, mj's understanding enough.

but it happens a couple of times too often and back to back and something snaps

you see, peter and mj have developed a bit of a rapport over the couple of months after hoco.

peter finds out mj likes coffee and tea, she read a stephen king book one time, he noticed, and they talked basically all week about king (and some of the issues surrounding him, his work, and their adaptations ofc)

soon enough their talks extend beyond school and they start meeting up in the library, at their places, at coffee shops, pizza places, an arcade one time where mj managed to beat peter at air hockey. her lil energetic whoop and almost doing a victory dance (before realizing she was in public) was worth losing for.

but admittedly, peter was just a tinge bit stressed and overextended and he unfortunately let his time with mj fall by the wayside.

he'd accidentally left her at seen for days after he completely forgot she sent him a message. she called, he answered, a robber was currently running away from some cops, he hung up on her...

suffice it to say, peter became a bit of a bad friend and he completely understood why mj reverted back to their previous relationship, he did it first

which was why peter decided enough was enough

mj has been a great friend to him, a true one, and an underappreciated one at that

which was why he decided he'd spend as much time, effort, and thoughtful gestures necessary trying to make it up to her

problem was, they were currently on clipped one word reply speaking terms right now. mj barely looked at him, she went back to sitting all the way to the other side of the farthest table during lunch again...

he needed a way in

so he went back to basics, the next day, he knew mj had a 7 am class so peter went to school at 7 am too, just to give mj some much needed caffeine

trouble was, was that mj was running late and when he gave the coffee, she left just as quick as she came

she said a quick "thanks, parker" and swoosh she sprinted to class

and peter was left there with 3 hours to spare til his next class. oh well, at least the effort made her do that quick lil toothy smirk

his efforts would work eventually won't it?

but if an omniscient narrator were watching him for the following days, they probably would have said no, no they wouldn't

one of those days, peter brought a thermos of tea only to find that mj had brought her own

"great, i thought the point of these gifts were to make things less awkward between us" peter thought to himself as he winds up walking away in slight shame from the awkward interaction

he winds up sharing the thermos with ned instead, who promptly responded "wow i get your secondhand gifts, you sure know how to make a guy feel special, peter"

"shut up, ned, do you want some or not?"

"no, come on, give it to me. free drinks are free drinks even if it's essentially just warm leaf juice. besides, i heard this helps with a sore throat."

"well, at least someone's happy with my gift"

they clink their cups together and peter begins brainstorming his next probably bound to fail gift idea

as he was walking home from school that day, and saw mj heading to the library, said idea lights up in his head in the form of bookmarks

those were cute right? and mj would probably use em all the time cus she reads so much and she reads multiple books at a time, so she'd probably use multiple bookmarks as well, right?

bookmarks it was, peter decided

he thought he'd print a bunch of personalized ones. ones that were photos of them, had quotes from significant historical female figures, and of course science puns

he knew mj didn't appreciate them as much as he did, but a part of him thought she'd like them nevertheless and would think of him when she'd use them

peter knew this gift giving crusade would be... heavy on his wallet, but as he stared at the price for laminating a couple of personalized bookmarks. he concluded lamination was a scam and believed mj would be careful enough with her books, and consequently, her bookmarks, to not need some flimsy piece of plastic to protect it

so peter opted for some folders and cardboard to make said bookmarks instead

it's only later after he got tossed into a sewer by a dude in a mechanized rhinoceros suit that he learned a valuable lesson: always laminate bookmarks

ok he was kidding (lamination was still a scam and bad for the environment and you couldnt write on the things after you laminate em)

but really tho, he did learn something. he realized he hasn't had the best of luck keeping his gifts intact in time to give said gifts to mj

so he decided to employ reinforcements

once peter's saved enough money to buy his next gift (a sketch notebook that he saw at a cutesy old crafts store), he decides that he should take ned with him when he buys it and that ned should just give it to mj instead

(better safe than sorry)

but peter still wanted mj to know the gift was from him tho, so he decided to write a letter and insert it within the notebook.

so he writes, or more like incoherently rambles and apologizes really

but peter thinks he got to the crux of the importance their relationship had to him and really, he just wanted to make things up to mj

that's what mattered

here's the thing tho, halfway thru writing said letter, he realized that having ned give it to her was kind of a cop out.

not to mention, not giving it personally but writing this long ass sort of confessional letter?

pfftt peter liked to think he was better than that

talk about sending mixed messages

so peter decided that he would still have ned keep the notebook and the letter, right up until the point that he was going to give the gifts to her.

and finally, peter parker, in this whole gift giving crusade, is finally given a fucking break.

at lunch time, the three of them are now all sitting at the same table

(peter and mj's relationship have mostly improved in the time it took him trying to give all those gifts, but he still felt guilty and he still wanted to show his appreciation for her)

ned "slyly" (mj saw it, how sly could he have been?) passes peter the notebook under the table

and peter braces himself

"i can do this" he repeatedly quietly mutters to himself until he finally approaches

"hey, mj"

"greetings, parker" casually replies mj without so much as looking up from her book

"i uh... got you something"

"is it something ned gave you?"

"what?"

"cause if it is, he can give it to me himself, you know" says mj in a semi shout to ned as well (ned looks at peter with a facial expression that said dude wtff?? how did i get in the middle of this???)

"what? no no no this isn't from ned. i bought you this."

"so why did ned have it?" says mj in her cool suave investigator mj interrogatory tone

"well..."

peter had officially maybe five? six? seconds to decide whether to share his embarrassing tales of failed gift giving woes to mj or to make up something on the spot

screw it, embarrassing failed gifts it was instead. truth shall set you free and all that, right? plus maybe it'd help him practice for when he tells her his biggest secret

peter sighs in defeat and tells mj in an almost quiet mumble "all my other gifts were destroyed when i kept them so i decided to have ned keep them instead"

"i'm sorry what?"

"it's just that the last time i tried to get you a gift, it just wound up getting ruined so i thought i'd just have ned hold onto it until it was time to give it to you."

peter can barely look mj in the eyes, the cafeteria just seems so interesting all of a sudden.

"oh"

that made peter look back at mj cus she seemed... shocked?

mj is.... shocked????

"soo... you bought that... for me?"

and god forsake peter parker because mj just gave him the cutest shyest little happy smile that he never knew she was capable of having.

"yeah yeah i did" and peter finally gets to give mj his gift/s (im counting the letter as the 5th gift cus im lazy af hahaha) and all the other trials and errors and failed gift attempts completely made the end result worth it

until ofc mj opens the damn thing and finds said letter that peter had completely forgotten at the moment was there

"what's this??" mj asks in an overly sarcastic teasing tone that kinda makes peter want to die

as mj opens the letter right there during lunch in the school cafeteria, peter suddenly lunges to block said letter's contents from mj's sight

"petet what the hell are you doing?" asks mj with the sweetest laughter that peter would totally googoo eyes about at any other moment had he not been focused on trying (and obviously failing) to keep his dignity intact

"uhhh can i ask that you just read that some other time, mj? and uh not right here, right now, in the cafeteria? it's just really embarrassing" peter shyly requests of mj, scratching his neck and looking at everything in the cafeteria but her

to that, mj simply has a sympathetic look on her face in reply

"sure, peter" says mj with a reassuring smile

and with that, peter breathes a big sigh of relief and finally lets go of his feelings letter for mj

mj closes the notebook up, keeping the letter safe inside it in the process, and secures the notebook safe inside her bag inmediately

suffice it to say, for mj, that notebook is precious cargo and she shall treasure it as much as she is capable of treasuring something

because peter parker felt guilty over not getting to spend time with her as much as they did and kind of pushing her to the sidelines and so it was just a genuine thoughtful gesture that showed peter valued their friendship/relationship as much as she valued it

PRECIOUS. CARGO.

but speaking of said cargo...

"hey peter"

"yeah?"

peter had gone back to his seat right next to ned

"sooo what was the other gift you tried to give me?" asks mj, getting back to their playful teasing banter ways

mj's question sends peter facepalming himself with the table

"don't think i've forgotten about that, i'm probably not going to stop investigating til i find out so might as well just spill the truth, parker"

peter stops his repetitive headbanging onto the table and sighs

"fine, mj"

and peter goes on to explain his bookmarks idea beginning all the way from the thermos incident

the three of them spend the rest of their lunch looking at the photos peter was going to use for the bookmarks, fondly recalling memories upon looking back at the some of the photos and laughing at all the corny science puns peter had planned on using as well

things were finally back to normal, if not better than ever.

time for some cliche corny af happy end quote ending about how their friendship and the memories they shared together was the real gifts they had buuuttt i did mention mj would be giving peter a gift didnt i? soooo mj pov epiloooggguuueeeee

here's the thing, mj had an inkling peter parker was trying to attempt something

he was at school at the same time as her crack of dawn class and gave her some much needed caffeine

he tried to share his thermos of tea with her

it seemed like peter was trying to make amends and it really was sweet and thoughtful so ofc lil by lil she began to soften back

but as mj was printing the bookmarks peter had planned to give her

mj requisitioned the idea for herself since they actually were good ideas if she's being honest

tho she would never tell peter that, ESPECIALLY the science puns one

she'd reserve those for only when she's at home, the least likely place peter could ever see her use that

ok so back to- as mj was printing said bookmarks, she began to appreciate peter's thoughtfulness

and it is totally not because of any feelings said gifts and gift attempts gave her

but right now, as she had finished printing bookmarks and got nostalgic and reread the letter of peter confessing to her how much their relationship meant to him again, she suddenly had the unscratchable itch of needing to sketch peter

and a balancing of the scales gift idea was born

because you see, rn, peter had the upper hand in terms of the morality of their friendship and mj couldnt have that nooo

mj was sketching a screen cap of a video she took of the class while they were waiting for a professor and peter gave her that impossibly adorkable smile

because she HAD TO

she couldnt let peter hog all the gift giving glory

she didnt do it because of feelings or whatever ppfftt

this was just to balance the scales, mkayyyy???

or at least that's what mj told herself once she's finished her sketch and proceeded to look for all her old ones of peter

just to even things out

and that's exactly what mj told him as she shoved said sketches that were currently inside a plastic envelope onto peter's hands

(1. less likely for them to be ruined that way. 2. she was not going to have those sketches out in the open for everyone to plainly see wtf)

"this is just to make things even between us, no need to make a big deal about it"

peter was in awe for a while, his jaw slightly dropped, but he smiles in adoration of the girl of his dreams and gives a genuine "thank you, mj"

"you're welcome, peter."

mj even smiles a little before the bell rings and she hightails out of there

mj lightly sprints away, still slightly in shock and unsure of what she just did and what just happened

while peter is left looking at mj's direction fondly and looking back at her gift for him

and as he peeked inside the envelope to see its contents and saw all those sketches of him

peter felt like he truly didn't deserve someone like mj

and he felt like all the gifts in the world he could think of and muster up wouldn't be able to make up for that fact

holy fucking shit i cant believe i actually finished one of these things again. it's like pulling fucking fingernails and teeth at the same time, i tell you

but honestly i'm just really really happy i finished it and it's so pure and fluffy imo and nothing im just. i love these two sm.

this fic was supposed to be for 5+1 things day but since they're also a bunch of headcanons i like to think i'm just posting these in advance for headcanons day tomorrow hahahaha

IM BACK ON THE SPIDEYCHELLE MONTH TRAIN BABY TOOT TOOT TOOOTTTT

and i have a couple of fics left in me so whew keep a lookout for those if they decide to come hahaha

all hail spideychelle everybody. i'll be back i dunno haha

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missjosie27 · 4 years

Text

The Other World Part 2

Hello, everyone.

Welcome to Part 2 of this short story epic that I’ve written. I must warn you it’s considerably longer than Part 1, but it had to be, given the subject matter. It also gets very heavy. I almost shed tears writing this multiple times. And I hope that passion is reflected in my work here today.

What else can I say except this is for you @hogwartsmysterystory. Consider this my thanks and appreciation to both you and Ethren.

If anyone needs a bit of back history for my MC please go here

Enjoy, guys!

Entering the classic wizard shop had been simple enough. Tom the barman was still there and the same tapping sequence still existed to actually get in. At least that hadn’t changed.

As it was with the previous two institutions he had visited, any damage caused by the war to Diagon Alley was already repaired and the streets were alive and full of busy shoppers, running children, and nervous parents once more. There were still a few wanted posters up, but David didn’t pay much attention to them, as they were only reward information for the capture of a few unseemly looking men and one haggard, scowling looking young witch.

His primary destination was Flourish and Blotts, a bookstore that had almost every kind of publication imaginable. Other than the Hogwarts Library itself, it contained one of the largest assortments of knowledge in all of England, including history. If there was a place he could find some answers in peace, it was there.

As he walked along the cobblestone streets, David gave more thought to his situation and tried to consider the facts of what he knew instead of going completely bonkers. He was clearly in the magical world of the UK. Hogwarts, the Ministry, and Diagon Alley existed, and the war had taken place much in the same fashion as he remembered. The time was a year into the future…except this wasn’t the future. If that were the case, why was Talbott alive, he reminded himself. Why were some of the names on the monument unfamiliar? Why was there no record of his existence in the halls of his own government? And what did this American with the last name ‘Whitecross’ have to do with this?

Surprisingly enough, the last question was the one David felt most intrigued by. He couldn’t explain why, but he was sure that whatever happened in this particular instance had a lot to do with the name he saw on the monument. The fact that Talbott wore a miniature American flag only added to his suspicions.

This is really fucked up. I still want to believe Talbott was pulling the other one, but there was no lie in his eyes. The bloke I knew…there’s no way he’d turn me away like that.

Walking into the pristine bookstore didn’t arouse the same sense of excitement and wonder he felt as a teenager when buying new schoolbooks or investigating the disappearance and motivation of his brother, but he appreciated the vast collection of books and editions all the same.

I wonder what Jacob would say if he could see me right now? Probably tease me relentless and give some cryptic advice on how to get out of it

Though he did miss the usual familiar, cheerful greeting from Madam Villanelle, who politely nodded in his direction and treated him as a brand-new customer, it only emboldened him more to find out why no one in this crazy world knew who he was. Thankfully, it didn’t take long for him to come up with a plan. One of the perks of being a pure blood, even from a minor family, was that it was much easier to trace your family lineage through the centuries than it was for half bloods or those who were muggle born. Thanks to Merula and her own resources, he had managed to trace his lineage all the way back to the time of William the Conqueror and the Norman French invasion. With any luck, he’d be able to find out the fate of his family and that of his mother, father, and brother as well.

David quickly found the book he was looking for, the one his wife bragged about all those years ago when they were children: Quibus Sunt Pura- A List of the Oldest Families of Great Britain by Linesrta Quint. Unlike the Sacred Twenty-Eight, who’s criteria was much stricter courtesy of the pure blood supremacist Cantankerous Nott, this book covered a much wider berth of material. The author in question also wrote the book as a purely academic, historical exercise not a means to propagate an exclusive group of people above all others. It revealed that many more wizards than just twenty eight specific families carried a great deal of history, including his.

Remembering almost fondly how Merula single handedly showed him more about his family history than he knew before, he reminded himself that finding his wife was a top priority as much as his own peace of mind. He needed to know where she was and if she existed as well. It was all information that could be gleaned by this one book.

Summoning water in his hip flask and taking a swig, he set to work in reading the introduction and scouring the index for the last name ‘Grant’. Strangely, however, he could not find it. It was usually right after the summaries of the ‘Gaunt’ and ‘Gamp’ families. But as he flipped back and forth, there was no mention of anyone of his last name having existed in magical England nor anywhere else for that matter.

Not a good sign.

Flipping about a dozen pages more, he came across the ‘MacMillan’ family expose and saw that his mother’s side of the family was intact, including all of his cousins. But there was no sign of Heather MacMillan having ever known or married John Grant.

David’s heart and pulse began to race. He thought back to what he and Merula discovered all those years ago: that his common ancestor Robert Graund had settled in England after the successful invasion of William the Conqueror, who unknowingly employed many Norman French wizards in his service, including Robert. Over time, the name became Anglicized to ‘Grant’ and each male whether by a pure, half blood, or muggle born woman also produced at least one magical son through the centuries. Certainly not as ‘pure’ as the bigots would have it, but then again that was the least of his worries.

Going back over to the front of the introduction, David finally found what he was looking for: the name Robert Graund. Apparently, alongside other pure blood families of French Norman descent: Malfoy, Lestrange, Rosier, etc. Robert had also taken part as it was before. But unlike before, there was also a miniature cross next to his name with a brief note that he had died during the famous Battle of Hastings, a decisive conflict that eventually led to William being crowned King of England.

David ran his hands through his hair once more and leaned back in his chair at the realization.

So that’s what happened. My first ancestor was struck down during that fateful battle. Therefore, no one in my family beyond him even exists. Including me.

But there were some parts he still didn’t understand, namely how he could go from existing one day to fast forwarding a year later where he didn’t at all? There was no logic in it. He knew the veil within the Department of Mysteries carried many secrets that even the Unspeakables didn’t fully understand. But did it transcend more than just life and death itself? What if perhaps the archway didn’t merely lead to a path beyond death, but other possibilities relating to time and space?

Peering around him, David took a deep breath and rationalized everything once more. Almost everything about this world was exactly the same as it was yesterday. Except today Talbott Winger was alive and there was no trace of him or anyone in his family having ever walked the earth.

“I must be insane,” he muttered to himself. “This whole place is insane.”

But the reality kept biting him until he could no longer deny it. Unless the world was playing an extremely sick joke, the only other possible explanation was that somehow, he had ended up in an alternate timeline or scenario where his very family had died almost a millennia before it could actually take root. Thereby the events he experienced at Hogwarts, as an Auror, a bounty hunter, and at the Battle of Hogwarts never took place. Which lead him back to two more avenues.

“Merula.”

Turning the pages to the ‘S’ section, it didn’t take long for him to find what was looking for: the Snyde Family crest and information. And it was just as accurate as he remembered. Merula’s own common ancestor was actually of Danish-Norse origin, a wizard Viking to be exact, who settled along the area of modern East Anglia only fifty years before William the Conqueror’s invasion. He traced his finger right down to the modern names, specifically her father, mother and aunt: Matthias, Lyra, and Lucretia respectively. Sure enough, Merula’s name and birthdate was there but that’s not all that was written. In tiny black letters below was the name ‘Alaire Whitecross b. 1997’.

David was absolutely convinced now that whoever this ‘Ethren Whitecross’ was, had to be related to Alaire in some way but the implication was becoming abundantly clear. If he, David Grant, had not existed in whatever realm this was, logic pointed to Merula being involved with another person. And in all likelihood this American was it.

There were several other factors to consider, however. If his hypothesis was correct, how had this person died? How had he gotten involved in the first place? And what was Merula’s role in all of this? And if Alaire was her son, where was he at the moment?

David quickly closed the book and stuck it back on the shelf. Even among the circumstances, he still loved Merula no matter which universe she was in. At the very least, he wanted to make sure he was safe, sound, and happy no matter if she was married or taken by someone else. It was too important.

Then, a sense of déjà vu hit him for more than the first time that day. His own Merula was effectively shanghaied into the ranks of the Death Eaters. Could the same have happened here too? Suddenly, his stomach again dropped multiple notches below his belt as he recalled the poster of the haggard witch he had passed by earlier.

“No..” he whispered in horror.

Rushing outside, not even bothering to say goodbye to Madam Villanelle, David ran about fifteen paces outside on the cobblestone street, narrowly avoiding two small children running in front of him before finally coming upon the wanted poster he sought.

What he saw nearly crushed him.

Wanted for crimes against the Ministry and Humanity:

Merula Snyde

Age 26

167 cm

Offense: Ex-Death Eater under You Know Who

Status: Missing/On the Run

Any information about her whereabouts should be sent to the Auror Office of the Ministry straight away, and any assistance will be rewarded with a sum of 1000 galleons

He didn’t want to believe it. No part of him wanted to believe this was the girl he had fallen for all those years ago. Technically speaking it wasn’t and the unkempt appearance only contributed to his feeble denial. Though far from being a girly, girl, Merula always kept herself moderately groomed to a certain degree. This person couldn’t have been further from that image: her porcelain skin and soft features were gaunt and much thinner, permanent bags seemed to be fixed underneath her eyes, the normally chin length bob a tangled mess of brown that went far past her shoulders.

But there was no mistaking that tuft of orange on top of that mop, nor the vivid violet eyes. He’d know them anywhere. It was her alright and no amount of disbelief could change that fact.

“Merula,” he whispered. “What happened to you?”

Resolve surged through the Auror once more as the search for information took on a whole new dimension. This wasn’t merely about himself anymore, no this was much bigger. He needed to find this version of Merula and talk to her. He was sure she could reveal the true story of what occurred in this world and why. She was the key to everything, including the American on the monument that was becoming increasingly relevant.

Snatching down the poster, David pocketed it and began heading east. If Merula was a wanted witch with a dark past, she was sure to be in hiding somewhere. And if that place was England, he knew the exact spot where dark and outcast magic folk loved to congregate.

It was time to leave the serenity of Diagon Alley for the dirt and grime of Knockturn Alley.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

In all honesty, going to one of the foulest areas in the British wizarding world was far more of a hunch than anything else, but he did have his reasons.

The first was Merula’s own history with the place. In his own world, she had discussed in detail her encounters in Knockturn Alley and all the times she visited with her parents as well as unsupervised instances. The amount of run ins they experienced together while at Hogwarts only added to that notorious history.

Second was his own experience as an Auror. Make no mistake, if someone wanted any information or news about the underworld, this was the proper location to do so. The trick was getting people to talk. Some would loosen their lips for a few extra galleons, but the dark, blackened alley ways held their own code of honor, one that was extremely hostile to outsiders and law enforcement. A man in blue had to be very careful with how they approached things.

Unfortunately for David, time was not on his side and he desired answers. The sad fact of the matter was, there was a distinct possibility Merula may not have remained in England after the war. Anyone on the run from Aurors wasn’t likely to stick around for long. He remembered Kingsley falsifying all those reports about Sirius Black being on some tropical island and Fudge buying it hook, line, and sinker.

However, assuming this version of his wife was still kicking around somewhere, this was the best place to ascertain that information, if anyone had it. Pulling the black hood over his head, he tried to give himself the appearance of someone who was collecting a bounty not an Auror making rounds. It helped that he did not have the blue robes on, but even so, it paid to have eyes on the back of their head.

That brought back memories of Mad-Eye, another painful loss he wasn’t prepared to deal with at the moment. After all, he was the personal mentor of a certain pink haired witch that became one of his best friends…

“Watchoo lookin at?” growled a short, squat, white bearded patron with a fish eye.

Snapping out of his daydreaming, David responded quickly and decisively.

“Nothing,” he responded. “Not unless you’ve seen this woman. Then we have business to discuss.”

He held up the poster of Merula and the dwarf like man gave it a good glance over.

“Ain’t seen head or tail of ‘er. Personally, me thought the Ministry already rounded up the last o them Death Eaters.”

“Apparently not. If you do see her, let me know. I pay rather handsomely for information of this kind.”

That definitely intrigued the man.

“Ye got yerself a deal.”

As he shuffled along his way, David grabbed another random person, this time a hooded witch and showed her the picture.

“Have you seen this woman?”

The hood fell back to reveal the face of a rather grotesque looking banshee, who began to screech as though she were being tortured.

“AREEEEEEEECCHHHHHHH!”

“Bloody hell! SHUT UP!”

He shoved the banshee away in an effort to reduce the attention he had unwittingly drawn on himself. This wasn’t going well thus far. Even the most transient, unsavory looking characters didn’t appear interested or knowledgeable about his wife. The longer he stayed here, the more likely he was to become a target and the last thing he wanted was to get caught up in a scrum in this Godforsaken place.

You taught me well, Rakepick you miserable bitch. Thankfully, Kingsley and Mad-Eye taught me better.

He was just about to take his questioning to another part of Knockturn when he noticed a middle aged woman in a black cloak staring at him and the poster he was currently holding. It dawned on him that she recognized the picture but before he could say so much as a word, she dropped everything she was holding and sped off into the street.

“Hey! Come back!” he shouted, immediately taking off after her.

The crowd was thick and various people shouted at him for shoving them, but he didn’t care. Just as long as he was able to keep the woman in his sights, he’d catch up to her eventually. He was only about five steps behind her, when she suddenly ducked into a side street in an attempt to shake him loose.

“Trying to do this the hard way, eh?” he muttered to himself. “We’ll see about that.”

The woman thought she could lose him by utilizing the maze of narrow streets and alleys that Knockturn was well known for. Unfortunately for her, David knew just as well as any of the sleazeballs who sold black market poisons on the corner and prepared a plan to cut her off. Using his superior speed and agility, he booked right knowing that the woman was trying to reach a secret passageway that led onto Piccadilly St., where she would blend in more easily.

Muttering incantations, he pointed his wand at the sky and a puff of golden smoke filled the air.

“That oughta keep you here.”

Sure enough, his guess was right. He took a left and then another left peering around the corner where the woman was attempting to use the passageway but she was too late. She had nowhere to run and there was no way out.

“You don’t strike me as the completely unscrupulous type but it would be better if you simply gave up now,” he told her.

The woman’s response was to send a cutting hex his way, which he easily dodged.

“Or not. Either way, you’re not going anywhere.”

David the saw woman try to apparate, but it was to no avail.

“Yeah that’s not going to work,” he said in the casual tone of someone scrapping butter over a biscuit. “Temporary anti-apparation ward. Really comes in handy in these kinds of situations.”

Realizing now that she was completely trapped the woman raised her wand, her arm shaking like a leaf in the wind.

“Stay back,” she said in a thick cockney accent. “I’m warning you.”

A silent disarming spell was all it took to send her last line of defense spinning into the air, which David caught before grabbing the woman by the wrists and pinning her against the wall.

“I’m only going to say this once,” he growled, his voice full of steel, hazel blue eyes boring into the woman’s light green. “You tell me the information I need to know about this person, and I won’t have to break your wrists and arm today. Start talking.”

“I swear I don’t know anything,” the woman pleaded.

“That’s why you ran away once you saw the picture, right? Listen, I’ve had a very rough day and I’m on my last leg of patience with other people’s shit. So I’m only going to say this once more. What do you know about this woman?!”

David, sensing that she was no longer a threat to him, eased his grip slightly, allowing some of the iron in his eyes to subside. She wasn’t the type you had to scare to death in order for her to talk. Just enough to know that you mean business.

“I seen her bout few weeks back. She comes around every so often looking for supplies and other things like that. She gives me no grief, so I don’t tell no authorities.”

“And you know that she’s Merula Snyde?”

“Aye,” the woman nodded, still nervous at the much bigger man maintaining a firm hold on her. “She was one of them Death Eaters. One of the few to escape gettin thrown into a bloody cell in Azkaban. No one knows how she did it.”

That was code for: I don’t personally know but I’ve heard rumors. David knew all the tricks the backalley types liked to pull.

“Enlighten me.”

The woman lowered her voice to a quiet, hushed tone as though admitting it out loud could get her into trouble.

“They say the night she was captured, some Yank was watching over ‘er in a cell way up in a tower or some such. Then, when his back was turned, she slipped by ‘im and into the black of night. Been on the run ever since. No one’s been able to find ‘er or touch ‘er. Cept when she comes around buying food and what not.”

David tried to process this in his head. The American in question was supposedly dead, marked by a gravestone and subtlety confirmed by this world’s Talbott. But if an American had been watching her and she escaped, how then did this Ethren Whitecross die?

“She didn’t kill him?” he asked.

“Didn’t ‘ave a wand. Or so I heard. It’s all just gossip round this place.”

Gossip it may be, but it often held an element of truth to it. However, there was only one way to truly find out.

“Do you know where she is now? Any location she was last seen or frequents?”

“Last I knew, she was ‘iding out in a little hovel up in Liverpool. There’s a muggle pub up there called ‘Thomas Rigby’s’. Apparently, she’s pretty fond of the drink nowadays.”

That was all he needed to hear. Having no more use for the woman, he let go of her wrists and tossed her wand back toward her.

“Oi! Don’t I get a little something for my trouble? I have needs too ya know and make no mistake.”

“Not for chasing you down,” he called back over his shoulder. “Besides, what you need is a bloody bath.”

Ignoring her cursing and insults uttered to his back, David now walked with more of a purposeful stride than ever before. He was getting to the bottom of this, in fact he was so close he could taste it. The only premonition? Not liking what he found. In the center of his gut, he had a nasty feeling that this version of Merula did not share much in common with the one he left behind.

I just hope she didn’t join them because of….no, I’m not even going to go there

There was no time to waste. It was on to Liverpool.

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David didn’t try to waste time in finding other Merula’s residency. The city itself was far too large and industrious to pinpoint an exact location. But he did find Thomas Rigby’s rather easily. It was a cozy little pub- well lit, quaint, a standing and sitting barroom with numerous tables for patrons to sit, drink, chat, or mind their own business. If one was a witch or wizard seeking to blend in, there weren’t many spaces better to do so. There wasn’t a single patron in here looking for anything out of the ordinary. And why would they? It was a lazy, Sunday evening on a cloudy British day.

The twenty five year old knew that there was a chance of sitting here all night without so much of a trace of Merula. But he also acknowledged that very few other alternatives existed short of breaking into the Ministry and looking at her last known whereabouts and that was something he could not afford at the moment. He didn’t even know how was going to leave this crazy world much less solve the mystery of what happened. The universe seemed content to just take him along for the ride.

So in the meantime, he decided to take off his hood, sit back for a bit and sip on a few pints of Guinness while he waited.

When the waitress came over to give him his drink, he handed her two hundred pounds worth of notes and told her, “Just keep them coming until I say otherwise. You can keep the change.”

The blonde waitress, a woman who looked to be in her mid thirties, merely shrugged.

“Suit yourself.”

David began drinking and began lamenting that wizarding beer lagged far behind in its quality compared to that of muggles. It had been a damn good thing he learned how to use dollars, euros, and pounds during his time abroad. They were two among many things he had discovered.

In the old days, meaning the time before the war, David was at his most content sitting in a bar such as this one, drinking the night away with some friends. As he had many times that day, his mind wandered back to memories that were now too painful to consider anymore. It was tradition on every Friday he Tonks and Talbott would go to a London pub and see who could hold the most liquor. Strangely enough, Talbott was usually the one with the highest tolerance. Badeea didn’t drink, so their excursions were usually just the three of them. Sometimes, they’d get Penny, Tulip, Barnaby, Andre, Charlie, Bill, Ben, or even Merula to join in the festivities.

Those memories only served to bring back even older ones. Nights in Hogsmeade where he and the lads almost destroyed the Hogs Head Inn, Penny’s cocktails, the lampshade Tonks wore while dancing on top of a table, parties hosted by random popular kids in the Three Broomsticks, including one where Ismelda and Diego first got together.

Draining Guinness after Guinness, David couldn’t help but think back on those days and how fleeting they were. Almost the relic of another time, a universe that no longer existed, similar to his own predicament. They were rare moments where everything wasn’t so complicated…they were just teenagers being teenagers, growing up in the best way they knew how. No war, killing, mourning, or death. No one had to choose a side under the point of a wand.

But eventually, they all did. Things fell apart. Their island home and their entire world went to hell: Barnaby fled the country taking Ismelda with him in an to avoid the fate that would befall so many of their housemates. Diego too found England increasingly dangerous and went back to Spain. Rowan, always sensitive by nature, never forgave him for putting Merula before their own friendship and soon embarked on his own journey across the world and soon found a husband along the way (to no one’s surprise he had a bit of a resemblance to Bill). Charlie went off to Romania to tame dragons, Bill to Egypt to advance his curse breaking career. Chiara became a healer at St. Mungo’s, Penny a potions lecturer, Andre the starting Keeper for the Tornadoes, Tulip a freelance journalist for international publications….

With the exception of a few (Rowan being among those who stayed away), all had come back to fight in the end, which made Merula’s situation all the more painful. Her forced subservience to her parents, long after she had renounced them and their blood purist ways, was an act of cruelty that made David want to break the glass in his hand. Whatever her flaws and faults, joining the ranks of the Death Eaters was not truly his wife’s own choice, but an abusive sin enacted by Matthias and Lyra Snyde.

I hate them. I hate them both. I don’t even regret accidentally killing Matthias. He deserved far worse for what he did to her.

They were manipulative, sociopathic people. But even from a young age Merula was able to see through that.

The ringing of the bell signaled the arrival of new customers as the pub slowly started to fill up. There was no sign of her yet.

He continued his internal monologue. No, his wife was no more a Death Eater than he was. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever happened in the world he was in was much different than the outcome in his own. He was almost afraid to continue searching, but some other entity pushed him on, as though a cosmic force was actually trying to show him something.

He was already on his 5th Guinness when the door opened again. Just as he began to believe that the exercise was all for naught, there she was, standing in the doorway, completely cloaked but there was no mistaking those violet eyes nor the trodden black combat boots she still wore even into her twenties. And underneath the robes, she looked every bit as tired and worn down as the wanted poster.

By Merlin, is that really her? She looks as though she’s ten years older than she is

David supposed alcohol had a lot to do with that, after all the stuff was highly addictive. But there was more to it than that and it was plain enough on her face. There was a lot of turmoil hidden underneath the brown haired mess- anger, regret, denial, depression, and pain…so much pain.

“I’ll have my usual,” she said in a bored monotone, tossing out a couple of coins.

“Coming right up,” the barkeep announced.

He could have guessed what she ordered: a vodka tonic with a lime to top it off. Her favorite. Though there was no doubt this Merula had no idea who the heck he was, it also stood to reason she was just as clever as his own version. She would know if a wizard was either observing or following her. So he kept his head down and bid his time, resisting the temptation to look in her direction.

A couple of hours passed and the Slytherin kept downing more and more vodka tonics. By this time, David had ceased drinking, the mind needed to be clear for what came next and it would not be easy. But if she was intoxicated enough, he just might be able to get her to talk long enough before she inevitably tried to hex or kick him. Either way, he tried not to focus on the awful appearance and keep himself focused on the ‘why’ and not the ‘what.’ It did no good to do the latter.

Finally, at the stroke of ten, Merula paid for her last drink, hopped off the stool and made her way outside. David, having paid in advance, stood up, and also opened the door to the warm pre-summer air. He pulled his cloak over his head and faked as if he were going left but secretly veered right, careful to mask his presence with a concealing spell. The onset of darkness also assisted in avoiding being seen.

“Come on, just a little more,” he muttered to himself.

When Merula was about fifty yards away from Thomas Rigby’s and headed towards the River Mersey, either to hang on the railing, puke, or a combination thereof, it was time to make his move

With a small *pop he apparated from the corner of the street and almost directly behind her. Immediately, he was met with a wand to the face.

“I suggest you back off right now, wanker,” she spat viciously, though her words were slightly slurred. “Not unless you want to lose a nose and your cock in the same night.”

“You know it’s really quite impressive how many of those things you downed in a couple hours,” he responded dryly. But that had been the wrong thing to say as she sent a curse of unknown origin his way.

Yeah, that’s her alright. Probably thinks I’m trying to get in her pants.

“Do you think just anyone can sneak up on me?” she snarled. “Do you know who I am?”

“Believe me, I’m very familiar with ‘The Greatest Witch at Hogwarts.’”

There was a minor look of surprise on her face indicating that was a term she had not used in quite some time. Nevertheless, she remained hostile.

“I don’t know you and I don’t want to know you,” she said wand remaining directly pointed at his chest. “So whoever you are, mind your own business and hit the road.”

David internally struggled with the situation. On the one hand, Merula was still his wife, no matter which universe he found himself in….no, that was wrong. Scanning this woman up and down she bore almost no resemblance to the woman he’d left behind, either in appearance or temperament. She was an ex-Death Eater on the run and also a drunk. This was not someone to be saved or redeemed.

This is about closure. Something is going on here that’s bigger than yourself.

As much as it pained him, he could not give the impression he was a pushover or else she’d walk right over him.

Suddenly, quicker than Merula could anticipate, he disarmed her physically and grabbed her left arm.

“Hey! Let go!”

True to his prediction, she gave him a mighty kick in the leg with her combat boot but he stood firm, rolling back her sleeve to reveal the ugly, faded remains of the Dark Mark. The skull and snake were still there, but with Voldemort’s death it was already becoming gnarled and reduced, and soon it would be nothing more than a permanent scar- a black stain on all those who wore it.

“So it’s true,” he whispered harshly, pushing her away. “You did join them.”

Merula didn’t try to escape. She didn’t have her wand for one thing but the look on her face was nothing short of grim.

“A real genius you turned out to be. Didn’t you read the wanted poster before deciding to collect this bounty?”

“I don’t give a damn about the wretched bounty,” he replied, hurt creeping into his tone. “What I want to know is why.”

She held her grim, harsh gaze, unwilling to say more. But David hadn’t come this far to be denied now. If this was some lesson being brought upon him by the universe by Merlin he was going to learn everything.

“Please…” he said, his voice dry and cracked from all of the beer. “Please tell me that joining the Death Eaters was not something you did voluntarily. If you were forced, it’s not the same thing but I need to know that you did not do this by your own actions.”

It was yet another in a long line of cosmic twists and also another painful reminder of just how different this woman was from his own Merula. She didn’t need to say anything, her silence said it all.

“Why?” he repeated painfully.

“Because I couldn’t disobey my parents!” came the ragged shout. “Because people don’t change! It was war and I had to choose a side…”

“…and ended up choosing the side you despised since you were a little girl. You said so yourself, that mark was something you feared.”

“They manipulated me! I-I….DON’T YOU GET IT?!” she screamed in rabid fury. “I said the same thing to him all those years ago! There is no such thing as happy endings!”

It was all the confirmation he needed to know that this woman, whoever she was, couldn’t be further from the Merula Snyde he had come to love and lay his life for. The person standing before him sounded no different than the version he’d known in third or fourth year: petulant, narcissistic, angry, and blaming everyone for her problems except herself.

“You still had a choice,” he responded firmly, willing himself not to quiver as he spoke. “No one forced you to join Voldemort. And look what it got you.”

“What’s it to you, whoever you are?” Merula snapped, leaning against the railing as though unable to properly stand upright. “You sound just like him. Preaching about morality and choice as though any of us have it.”

They were coming to the crux of the issue now.

“Whitecross,” he said and there was immediate recognition of that name upon its proclamation. “What was your relationship with him? Where is your son?”

“So, you know about that too,” she huffed. “Are you some two bit author looking to make a buck on our life story?”

“Look, it doesn’t matter who I am,” David responded in frustration, knowing that there was no point in telling her the truth. “I just need to know what happened to Ethren Whitecross. Humor me and I’ll leave you alone.”

This seemed to do the trick as other Merula sighed and stood up a little straighter.

“We were….an item so to speak. Hogwarts sweethearts, dating pals, whatever you want to call it. He loved me.”

“But you chose opposite sides,” David confirmed. “He must have been an Auror or with the Order.”

“The latter of the two. He was always a magnet for adventure, especially during the curse breaking years. Then again what else do you expect from a Gryffindor?”

Though this universe had been the opposite of his in so many ways, David was starting to see some parallels as well. A Gryffindor boy falls in love with a Slytherin girl, dating while at Hogwarts, going on curse breaking adventures…it was all quite similar. And yet, so vastly different. The dynamic of their relationship had not played out as it did in his own world.

“How did he die?” David continued. “I was told he was guarding you in one of the Hogwarts towers when he turned a blind eye and allowed you to escape. But the memorial says he was killed on that night.”

“That wasn’t him.”

He raised an eyebrow, features turning into a confused frown.

“He’s the only Whitecross listed on that memorial. So either you’re lying or-”

“It was his brother guarding me you prat!” she cut across him. “Jaxson Whitecross. He wasn’t the only American there that night. He was the one who let me go.”

“Jaxson,” David breathed out. It was a name remarkably similar to Jacob, his own brother. “So if he was the one who let you go, what happened to Ethren?”

There was no mistaking it this time, tears were forming in the defeated violet eyes. A look of hatred formed on her sullen, hollow features but it was not a hate directed at him. No this hatred was internal.

“He was killed….protecting me.”

For the second time in as many days, David felt his body go numb. He knew that the person he sought was already deceased, but hearing how he was taken from this world made it that much more…potent.

“Protecting you?”

“Yes,” she answered, salty discharge streaming down her cheeks, managing to tell the story through emotional breaths. “I-I had killed two Death Eaters that were trying to do him in. But then reinforcements from the Order arrived including a herd of centaurs. One of them saw me and shot an arrow directly at my heart….h-he took it instead.”

And so the answer had been revealed at last. This was the connection that the universe had been trying to show him all along. The man who loved Merula Snyde in this world, died doing so without hesitation for a person that did not deserve it.

Sacrifice. The ultimate sacrifice.

“And your son,” he managed to choke out. “What of your son?”

“He lives with his uncle in America…I’m sor….I couldn’t take care of him. Not after everything that happened. I’m not a mother. I’m not anything except a lush anymore.”

It was the closest thing to an apology David heard thus far and he suspected that was as close it was going to get. At long last he finally understood. Stories had more than one way of playing themselves out. A choice made by one was not a choice made by someone else. This was the legacy of the world he currently stood in laid bare: Merula had refused to better herself and as a result the story of Ethren Whitecross ended in tragedy, not redemption.

How then, would his own conclude?

Looking down at the crying woman in front of him, a mixture of pity and supreme sadness weighed in his heart. He wanted to say that he was sorry and to help in any way he could. But this was a person beyond any sort of help he could give. And if he and Ethren had truly been similar, nothing he said would change that.

“Take this,” he said, tossing back her wand. “Though I doubt you’ll need it much. If my hunch is correct, no one will be able to harm you until the day you pass from this world.”

He began to turn to leave but before doing so, there was one more thing he needed to know.

“Merula,” he spoke softly. “Where is he buried?”

“O-on the shores of Lake Michigan in the United States. There’s a large house by the shore overlooking a grassy hill. He…he’s there.”

Then that’s where I’ll go

“Take care of yourself,” he said to other Merula, though in his heart he knew she wouldn’t. Whatever her future held, it didn’t involve proper self-care. It was out of his hands now.

Even now, I understand…that could have just as easily been me lying in a grave. He gave his life for her even when she was beyond all hope…he still loved her just as I would have.

He walked off from the docks and apparated away. There was one thing left to do.

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Somewhere on the shore of Lake Michigan an unknown man arrived at a beautiful, melancholic scene.

David had never been to this part of the United States, his interactions being limited strictly on the east coast in cities like New York, Boston, Washington, and what not. But he resolved to visit again someday to the Midwest, because what he saw was truly mesmerizing. True to Merula’s word, there was indeed a large mansion overlooking a green hill which contained nothing save for a white marble headstone. Beyond the shore, were the waters of Lake Michigan in all its spring time splendor. In the distance, tall oaks and pines mixed together creating a deciduous-boreal forest, the scent of which could be inhaled even from the edge of the water. The oaks were at last in full bloom, creating a vivid green that contrasted wonderfully with the afternoon sun and the dark, turquoise sky. The air was clean…so clean. He truly envied anyone who grew up in an environment like this. America was always a much sunnier place than England, both figuratively and literally.

But that was not the purpose of this visit. David couldn’t explain but he sensed his time in this world was coming to an end.

Which brought him to this final task.

It hadn’t been hard to sense the magic surrounding this place and after probing with his wand, David detected only a minor muggle repelling charm by the gravesite, which thankfully wasn’t rigged with a caterwauling charm or any other such alarm. After temporary disabling it, David walked the length of the hill before arriving at the foot of the headstone. He silently read the writing of the deceased for the second time that day.

Ethren Whitecross

1973-1998

A proud American

A wonderful son & brother

You will be missed

“The father that never was,” David breathed out.

He took one more glance back at the mansion, ensuring no one noticed his presence. To ensure absolute privacy, he tapped his head with the disillusionment charm, rendering him completely invisible. After one more look towards the beautiful forest beyond, he began to speak.

“I don’t know what I was expecting,” he finally uttered, struggling to hold back the lump in his throat. “I don’t know what to say really. This whole thing is bloody crazy. You never knew me, and I only just learned about you. We’re literally from different worlds. And not just because I’m from across the pond,” he added with a choked chuckle.

“But at the same time, I feel a connection to you. I can’t explain it, but after the events of today and all the shit that’s happened, part of me feels like I’ve known you almost my entire life. And…I couldn’t leave without honoring you.”

He knelt down, taking another deep breath.

“Thank you. Thank you for the kindness and consideration you gave my wife. I know she’s not my wife but she’s still Merula and my love for her transcends worlds. No matter how difficult she was or how lost she became, you never stopped loving her. Even when she found herself in the dark pit of the Death Eaters, you never gave up. I only wish she had done the same for you before it was too late.

“Thank you, for making me realize…just how lucky I am. Before I arrived here, I genuinely thought there was nothing left to live for. But I was wrong, I have everything to live for. My wife is alive, so are scores of others. We have the opportunity to build a better world than the one before and we will. Through it all, I’m still here and so is Merula. That’s more than enough.

“Lastly, thank you for your sacrifice…the ultimate sacrifice. You gave your life so others could live, and the evil of Voldemort permanently ended. You did so out of love, and because of that your Merula will carry that protection for the rest of her life. People owe you so much more than just a memorial and a gravestone.”

Taking out of his locket, the one that contained the picture of his beloved wife, he clutched it tightly as he uttered his last sentence.

“I promise you for as long as I draw breath, your story will not be forgotten. I swear it on your grave, Ethren Whitecross.”

He reached out and touched the white marble and that’s when he felt it. The same overpowering, white hot sensation that threatened to rip him apart molecule by molecule and every action and thought seemed to run for an eternity. By the time he thought his mind would be lost to the pure chaos, darkness took him once more and there was nothing.

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A thunderous force pushed David so hard, he fell straight back onto a hard stone floor with an incredible thud.

“AGH!”

Ignoring the pain he felt in his back and shoulder, he slowly lifted himself off the ground and tried to make some sense of his surroundings.

“Grant?” a voice called out. This one, however, was not mysterious or a whisper.

“Hello?” he called out.

The figure of Williamson made its presence known as he stepped into the lighted part of the room.

“Blimey, Grant what are you doing in here? This area’s off limits, you know that.”

Dusting off his robes and pocketing his wand, David saw that he was still clutching the photo of Merula that he had taken out only seconds earlier at the gravesite. But if he was back in the room of death that could only mean…

I’m back. Son of a bitch, I don’t know how but I’m back in my own world. And not a second from where I left it.

“Uh, Grant? David? Can you hear me? What’s gotten into you?”

Shaking his head, he pulled his focus back to the matter at hand, trying to give off the impression that nothing was out of the ordinary…which was a shame because he had never been very good at lying.

“Oi, yeah. Sorry, Williamson. I zoned out for a second.”

The smaller, dirty blonde Auror eyed him carefully.

“Just what exactly were you doing down here anyway?”

“Nothing,” David murmured. “Just…needed some time to think. I’ll be on my way.”

But Williamson held up a hand to stop him.

“Breaking into a highly restricted area of the Ministry aside, that’s actually not the reason I came to see you.”

That gave him pause, as he stuck the picture back into his jeans pocket.

“What do you mean?”

“I come bearing news. The Minister has decided to release your wife, Merula Alice Snyde, effective immediately with no charges being brought to bear as of now. She’s free to go pending further evidence.”

David could hardly believe his ears nor dare to feed the excitement of his heart.

“She is?” he asked lamely.

“Yes. We’ve received new intelligence in the last hour or so, one that just came to my attention. It confirms directly that your wife was under the control of the Imperius Curse and that her actions were indeed not her own.”

As overjoyed as he was, David didn’t quite understand how this was possible. One moment Merula was looking at a life sentence in Azkaban and now she was free?

“How? I mean…how-”

“Two people, including one who was very high in You Know Who’s inner circle, have agreed to give testimony against any and all of his captured servants. One confirmed that Miss Snyde was indeed being controlled by Death Eaters Matthias and Lyra Snyde and is prepared to confirm that in court to the Wizengamot.”

“And just who is this informant?”

“That is confi-”

“Out with it, Williamson, who am I going to tell?”

With a sigh, his colleague relented.

“Lucius Malfoy. And his wife, Narcissa.”

Yup that confirms it

Williamson gave an irritated look and gestured towards the door.

“Look you’re really not supposed to be in here and I imagine you’ll want to see your wife now. She’s waiting for you in the lobby. Shall we?”

He didn’t have to be told twice. Jumping down from the giant rock that supported the veil, he followed Williamson out of the door and back towards the Atrium.

“By the way, I do hope that you didn’t touch that thing in there.”

David gave a cheeky grin and response.

“Perish the thought Williamson, old boy,” he in a fake posh tone.

Yes, teasing him would never get old.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It didn’t take long for David and Merula to reunite. The moment the spotted one another they ran into each other’s arms and embraced, hugging so tightly that neither one was prepared to let go.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered in her ear, tears running down his cheeks once more. “I’m so sorry.”

“What are you sorry about you prat?” Merula responded, wiping away tears of her own. “You saved me from being a slave. From my parents.”

“No, you saved yourself,” he affirmed to her, his forehead pressed against hers. “You made the choice. The right one.”

He kissed her, long and passionately, one that she returned.

“I’m okay,” she whispered. “We’re all okay. We’re going to get through this.”

“Yes, we will.”

An awkward clearing of the through interrupted their tender moment and David realized Williamson was still there.

“Very sorry to cut in, but there is one other thing I needed to inform you of,” he stated.

“It can’t wait until after post-prison sex with my wife?”

Merula kicked him in the shins, which caused him to wince and hop on one foot.

“Just joking, dear.”

“I shan’t keep you,” Williamson said, completely unperturbed. “I only wanted to confirm your appointment with Minister Shacklebolt regarding your reinstatement to the Auror Office. He seeks to discuss the matter with you personally this Wednesday at ten o’clock. It seems he desires your return.”

Relief awashed the twenty-five-year-old as he looked towards the heavens.

Yes, everything was going to be alright.

“Tell him I’ll be there on the dot.”

“Wonderful, I shall inform him of your decision,” he turned to go but not before adding the smallest of smiles. “Congratulations to you both.”

“Many thanks, Williamson.”

With the last of the formalities concluded, he and Merula were set to exit.

“Shall we go home?” she asked him.

“Wherever the hell that is. I pretty much abandoned my London pad two years ago. I do hope no one’s trashed it.”

“We’ll figure it out,” she reassured him. “We always do. Now let’s get out of here. I never was a fan of the Ministry.”

“Wait.”

He stopped her. Before they did anything else, David had to get a good look at her…just to be sure. What he saw, warmed his heart. Yes, she was still covered in cuts and bruises from the battle, and dark circles permeated underneath her violet eyes. But instead of alcoholic self-loathing he saw they still radiated life. Her hair was still the cute little bob he adored as opposed to a tangled heap. Her posture gave no indication of defeat. She was not the broken Merula Snyde daughter of Death Eaters who gave up on herself, but a woman who had passed through multiple trials and won them all.

It’s still her, he thought joyfully. This is still the woman I fell in love with and will continue to love for all time.

“Uh, David?”

“Yes?”

“I appreciate that you want to bask in all of my beauty, but the staring is kinda off putting. Can I at least shower beforehand?”

David smiled.

“Of course. It’s just…I love you is all. And I’m the luckiest man in the world to have the ‘Greatest Witch at Hogwarts’ by my side.”

Merula laughed and interlocked her chipped, black polished fingers with his.

“Wow, it’s a been a long time since either one of us used that title.”

“I don’t see you complaining.”

Merula leaned in, a soft, but eager look on her beautiful features.

“I’m not,” and she gave him a gentle kiss. “I love you too.”

Together they began to walk towards the exit of the Atrium but not before Merula had one last question.

“Dave…you mentioned something earlier about me making the right choice. What did you mean by that? There was a funny look on your face when you said it.”

Clever as ever, she is

“It’s a bit hard to explain,” he said rubbing the back of his head as they approached the exit.

“Did something happen to you in the short time I was in a Ministry cell?” she joked to him.

The image of a marble white headstone appeared once more in his mind, the shores of Lake Michigan calming his heart as he squeezed Merula’s hand a little tighter.

“It’s a long story. A story that will never be forgotten.”

The End

#ethren whitecross #david grant #gyrffindor #hogwarts mystery #hphm #hphm fanfiction #harry potter #mc #merula snyde #mc x merula #fanfiction #au #worlds collide

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3starsquinn · 4 years

Text

Happy Accidents || Morgan & Orion

Morgan tracks a book down to the abandoned Scribe headquarters, where she runs into a familiar face in the form of her student, Rio.

Another day, another ancient text or Scribe journal that needed front to back translation. Orion had accepted that he could get through about one a day, maybe two if the text was small enough and he was willing to stay up late enough. Another day down, another book down. Only about a couple thousand or six left to go. But he would take it one day at a time. He took breaks sometimes. He would hang out at the Scribe headquarters to do his homework, sometimes he would just read the texts for fun. He had even begun to sort the books amongst the shelves. Whoever had kept track of the books before had done an incredible job, but the labelling and order had gotten lost among the last forty or so years. So Rio had taken it upon himself to get things reorganized. Today, Orion made his way against the grass and towards the hidden Scribe headquarters. His bookbag was weighed down by a grocery book full of snack food and he carried a twelve pack of soda in his hand. He dipped between the trees and came across the impasse where the barrier stood. He found the tree that his uncle had shown him so many years ago and muttered the small incantation that he had memorized minutes after learning it. Something he could never forget. Suddenly, the Scribe Headquarters stood before him, and he slipped onto the courtyard to head towards the entrance.

Morgan was fine. More time to herself in the evenings meant more chances to spread her net wide in search of magic! Hopefully, soon, it would also mean more sleep, but Morgan’s body wasn’t ready to accept only having pillows to drape her arms over or the inferior quality of her bed. So here she was, following the world’s buggiest tracking spell for a missing scribe journal from around one of the curse years. Morgan could have sworn she had done everything right, and find my lost whatever was pretty easy as far as spells went. Granted, looking for something she’d never seen was a lot harder, but---the middle of the woods? Really? Morgan checked the amulet in her palm again and stepped out of her car. Getting warmer. Morgan was about to turn on her flashlight when she saw a familiar backpack bouncing through the overgrowth. Orion? Morgan followed a few paces behind him. The amulet, meanwhile, began to heat up in her palm. Warmer--

Se touched his hand to a tree and-- Shit.

So much for no such thing as Hogwarts. The building was massive, the kind of library you imagine in fairy tales. Even the decay of skeleton ivy and stones burst by roots was beautiful in its own way. And--it was going to close if Morgan didn’t hustle. “Rio!” Morgan sprinted after him. “Rio!”

Orion was still reeling from Arthur showing up at the Scribe headquarters earlier in the week. In the past two months, Rio had spent a lot of time at the abandoned building in the woods. But he had never met another soul that had found the place until the local History Professor had come waltzing into the building as if magical barriers hadn’t existed. Rio had thought it was just a one off, but that was before a loud voice began screaming his name across the forest as Rio tried to hurry into the building. For a split moment of pure terror, Rio was convinced that it was Athena. She had followed him into the woods and discovered his secret and soon she would run back to home and tell the truth to their parents. But that voice wasn’t Athena’s, though it was familiar. Rio froze in his tracks and stayed completely still for a long second, finally building up the courage to slowly turn around to face the woman’s voice. “Uh- Professor Beck?” Rio asked incredulously. Of all of his theories, he hadn’t considered her. “Um… what are you doing here?”

Morgan hadn’t been thinking of ‘next’ when she’d called after Rio. She’d been thinking of getting into the magic library where, apparently, her very functioning tracking spell wanted her to go. After she skidded to a stop, however, it became clear that she should have considered something. What did it look like she was doing, exactly, at sundown like this? “Hi! Oh, just--you know!” No, no. Rio had made a library appear by taking down some kind of ward. He should be answering questions and she should be composing herself like a half functioning adult. She held up her tracking amulet, which was starting to turn her hand pink with its light. “Maybe not so different from what you’re doing in the middle of the woods on a weeknight in a magic library. That is what we’re looking at, right? That you just down the barrier around? It’s a pretty neat one, from the looks of it.”

“It-It’s not a magic library.” Orion mumbled, clearly embarrassed. He didn’t do well in most social situations anyways, but being cornered in one of the few places he actually felt safe only made him more timid. The only thing saving him from a full on panic attack was the person that stood in front of him. Professor Beck was easy to talk to and had always been a nice person. Clearly, the two didn’t know much about each other considering their current predicament. “It’s an abandoned building.. with a magic barrier that surrounds it.” He supposed the cat was out of the bag on this, there wasn’t much of a chance of convincing she had imagined that the building had appeared out of nowhere. “There is a library inside of it though. Among other things.” His eyes homed in on the trinket that Morgan held in her hand and started walking towards her to get a better look. “Woah.” Orion whistled, “That thing is.. So are you like… an actual witch?” Orion knew that they existed, had seen some of their spells at work. But he had never actually had a conversation with one.

“Magically protected library, fine,” Morgan said. The point was, Rio was something. You didn’t just accidentally know magical passwords. But who was he? What was his deal? “Okay, one thing at a time.” She held away the tracking amulet, since he seemed to want it so much. Better to get everything out in the open first. It would really be just her luck to have a witch hunter in her classroom as one of her favorite students. “I can’t make any magically binding promises, but you know I keep important information confidential from class, right? So I hope you believe me when I say I won’t go around sharing your identity with other people. So, cards on the table: what are you doing here? Is there an axe in that bag, or a grimoire, or--?”

Professor Beck held the amulet out towards Orion and he gingerly took it from her, noticing the heat from it and trying to examine it from all sides. “What is this?” Orion asked curiously. It was obviously enchanted in some way, but Orion wasn’t sure what the purpose was. Professor Beck was obviously going somewhere with the questioning. Maybe she thought that he was a witch himself, or something different. He couldn’t blame her, he supposed. But then she mentioned something about an axe being in his bag and he couldn’t help himself but begin laughing. “An- an axe?” He kept laughing, the idea of Orion carrying around something that dangerous being uncontrollably humorous to him. “No, no. I promise I’m not like some creepy murderer or something.” He handed the amulet back over to Morgan and slid the backpack off his back. He unzipped it and pulled out the grocery bags from it, exposing the various amount of snack foods that he had planned on storing inside the Scribe’s outdated kitchen area. “I- I come here to hang out and study sometimes. But I’m not a serial killer. And I’m not a witch or anything either.” The code to get into the Scribe Headquarters had probably looked like magic to those unfamiliar with the Scribes. Technically it was magic. Just the kind that anybody could do. “Have you ever heard of the Scribes?”

Morgan went soft with relief and took the amulet back. “The word I was avoiding was hunter,” she said. “But that’s good to know. This little do-hikey is a tracking spell. I hit a dead end at The Archive and thought I would be more proactive about the missing link.” A scribe journal. Maybe Rio could help? Something about the earnest, overworked boy being a secret scribe made a lot of sense. “I’ve heard of them, yeah,” she admitted. “Come on, we can walk and talk--” She was conscious of her not showing off her own card yet, but no one hunted scribes. Sometimes, from her reading, it seemed that people would yell at them a lot and take out some frustration on them. But not murders. There weren’t any inkwells or notebooks dangling from someone’s trophy case. Or maybe that was just a lie of convenience. Maybe Morgan was just tired of keeping count of what doors to herself she’d opened and how many were due to summon in something awful. Morgan checked to see that Rio was still with her before going on. “You don’t need to tell me anything you’re not comfortable with, but I’m admittedly curious: are you okay? Is there a reason scribe-ing is your...do kids still call it a ‘side hustle’?”

Orion was content walking along with Professor Beck until he heard her say the word. Hunter. How had she read him so easily? How could she have possibly known about him being a hunter. But he wasn’t a hunter. Maybe by blood, but not by practice. It was enough to throw him off. He could feel his face heating up and his cheeks blushing. His forehead broke out in a sweat that he wiped his shirt across. “Yeah uh – no hunting for me. Animal or otherwise.” He finally spoke again, hoping to drop the subject altogether. “A tracking spell? That’s cool. And it can help you find whatever you want?” He could admit that he wasn’t well versed when it came to magic. He had heard that Hunter’s had employed Witches from time to time to help with protection spells or tracking spells. “Uh” How did Orion answer a question like Are you okay? Clearly, the answer was no for a plethora of reasons but none that Orion was comfortable answering or Professor Beck truly wanted to know. “My Uncle used to be a Scribe. A long time ago.” He decided to go with the truth, even if it was the watered-down version. “He’s the one that showed me how to get into the building. And he’s the reason why I’m trying to keep it going. I mean the Scribes are practically extinct at this point.. but I’m trying to do what I can.” None of that was a lie, as long as she didn’t care that he never answered her question. “Do you.. want to see what the inside looks like?”

Morgan listened thoughtfully. Rio hadn’t said he was okay, he hadn’t even bothered with saying he was fine. That was saying a lot, but Morgan couldn’t bring herself to push. The kid had groceries shoved into his backpack and this was his idea of a good time. Morgan remembered wanting to escape the dingier apartments they’d lived in. Most of those escapes had been to other, nicer houses. But sometimes it was the public library, or a coffee shop where self-assured looking students and yuppies worked away. She wouldn’t have been able to put her finger on the exact source of her pain then, as things stood, she wasn’t certain there was much good in nudging Rio to do any different. “Your family must be really proud of how well you’re doing then,” she said gently. “And I would love to see inside! My little tracker tells me it’s in there somewhere anyways. It might be scribe related. It’s not an insult to the scribe gods for me to take it home once I find it, is it?” she asked.

Against his better judgement, Orion actually laughed when Morgan claimed that his family must be proud of him. It was mostly instinct, something that he never planned on doing in front of others. For his own safety and the safety of others, Orion needed to keep people thinking that their family was put together. Orion knew how dangerous they were and was a little afraid to find out just how much more dangerous they would get if put in a tight spot. “My sister’s the one they should be proud of. Popular, athletic, Pre-med student. She’s the whole package.” Orion wasn’t lying, but he hoped that he had framed it in a way that had made it sound less parents are psychotic creeps and more I’m the failure child. “I mean, Athena has always been an overachiever.” Orion welcomed the chance to head towards the Scribe headquarters, hoping that the inside would help move the subject off of himself. He never quite knew what to say. “Uh no Scribe gods but just one kid that would really like the text back when you’re done with it.” He laughed nervously, scratching at the back of his neck, “What is it that you are looking for anyways?”

Morgan watched Rio sidelong as he spoke. She didn’t give as much thought to her students as she did when she was first starting out. It was almost awful sometimes, seeing them stress over the prelims, and the club drama, the relationship drama. And what was the point in reaching out when she could barely manage herself, or when they were out the door in four months? But her other students didn’t carry magic in their pockets, and they weren’t so caught between being eager and being invisible as Rio either. It hurt to recognize, like looking at an ugly high school picture. “You’re a person, Rio, you’re not a package,” she said gently. “And people should be proud of you.” But, that was not what they were here for. It would be easier, better, even safer for both of them to leave it at that. Morgan couldn’t hit an undo button on the ties she’d made thus far, but she could take greater care not to pick up many more if she could help it. She cleared her throat, happily taking the change of subject. “A journal. There’s a specific time frame I’m looking for, around 1885. I have a hunch there was something big that happened in town then. Something that was hopefully worth writing about. And what are you studying tonight?”

Without knowing much to say, Orion just shrugged his shoulders and muttered, “Uh thanks. I appreciate it.” He never really handled praise well. It wasn’t that he never received it. He knew how smart he had been in school. Teachers and staff were constantly singing his praise, trying to get him to open up. But it was more that he had a hard time believing anybody when they spoke them. Everything seemed to have an underlying meaning to it. Orion was quick thinking but lacked the discipline and courage to do his birthright. Orion was incredibly intelligent but isn’t good at making friends. Orion was a good kid but they couldn’t help but think he was a little too reserved for his own good. Orion was always waiting for the but. A compliment rarely came without it. “There’s a whole section on White Crest specific events.” Orion began, remembering the corner of the library that he had labelled. “It’s uh… extensive.” He pushed open the main doors into the building. A large opening stood in front of them and Orion began leading the two into it and down a hallway. “I- uh don’t study anything specific per say.” It was hard to explain what he was doing, mostly because he was embarrassed to admit it. Once he said it aloud he was setting himself up for failure. “But I like to read up on whatever peaks my interest once I get inside.” He talked as he lead them through the building. They made their way down a long hallway with winding turns. They passed by the door that lead into the sleeping area for the Scribes that Orion had hoarded his stuff into. Finally, at the end of the hallway was the door that lead into the library. “So, the place is pretty old. But uh- still impressive.” He smiled shyly and pushed the door open so his Professor could see the library.

If the dust and the mildew hadn’t risen up to sting her senses, Morgan might have thought it was some kind of illusion. The books--admittedly ratty, aging books--filled more space than her eyes could take in at once. The wood on the shelves (real wood) bowed from the weight of cradling them all for so long. And there were shelves beyond them, cozy with dark. Morgan couldn’t stop herself from gaping openly. “This place is amazing,” she said. The amulet in her hand seemed to think so too, it was starting to burn. “Wanna see how well this thing works?” She asked, just before scurrying off in the direction that was hottest. “What happened to everything here, by the way?”

Orion felt an odd sense of pride when Morgan complimented the library. Though he had nothing to do with the structure when it was build or while it was active, Orion felt a sort of obligation or responsibility for the place now. As far as he could tell, he had been the first one in the building in what must have been a long, long time. For better or worse, Orion had taken over ownership of the place. For the time being at least. “Uh, yeah. It’s pretty cool.” He laughed nervously, following behind Morgan as she began down the aisles. “The Scribes haven’t been active since the 80’s. I guess… this place has mostly been abandoned since then. I just started coming a few months ago.” He decided against detailing the entire history. They were on a mission after all. “So what important historical event from White Crest’s history are you searching for?” He asked, curious. “I- uh know a decent bit about the town’s history.” He coughed nervously, trying to not sound cocky or arrogant.

“I guess the 80’s were a bad time for everyone,” Morgan said darkly. “But what was it? An attack? Some magic self-destruction? Someone has to still be alive who remembers, right?” She continued to walk, moving faster and turning down shelves and back again as the amulet cooled in her hand (nope, colder). At last, the amulet burned hot enough that Morgan dropped it on the ground to save her skin and she began pulling out different volumes and flipping through the margins for dates. “Oh, and uh, that’s the thing, you know? I’m not sure. But probably something--weird? A big fire, maybe. Or some improbable death, I don’t know how many weird ways there were for people to die back then. Or maybe some freak, isolated natural disaster, like a flood where only one house gets destroyed, or a tornado that only kills one person,” Her voice took a bitter turn as she spoke. It might have been funny if it hadn’t happened to her life. “I’m just positive there was something,” she added more gently, flashing Rio a smile. There had to be, or why else would Agnes have packed up and moved to Texas, as far away from the world she knew as she could probably afford?

“It had good music at least” Orion shrugged, not wanting to make light of whatever Morgan had meant when she said that the 80’s were a bad time for everyone. “It was more.. gradual than that I think.” Orion followed Morgan down the aisles as he thought on the downfall of the Scribes. His uncle had told him about it on multiple occasions. Sometimes while he mourned the career path he so desperately wanted but would never be able to explore. Sometimes while he was drunk, theorizing how it could have been fixed. Regardless, the roots had always stayed the same. “I think they became too big for their own good.” He began explaining, halting to a stop when Morgan froze in her tracks and spun to move back down the aisle they had come from. Clearly her magic tracking amulet was doing something to tell her which direction to move in. “The Scribes had a pretty strict set of rules. The large it got the harder it must have been to enforce. Eventually headquarters stopped staying in touch with each other. A couple even ended up getting burnt down. Now… well this is what remained.” Morgan stopped and was now searching through the shelves for something. For not knowing what she was looking for, she sure seemed to be looking for something specific. “Most deaths were caused by disease back in the 1800’s. Tuberculosis and Dysentery because the most common.” He wasn’t sure how he could help, but he grabbed a text from the shelf and began flipping through it, looking for anything around the 1880’s or 1890’s. “I uh.. don’t want to ruin the mood, but weird freak accidents and natural disasters are uh pretty common in this town. There’s a reason why they used to call it Wicked’s Rest.”

Morgan shrugged. “So was AIDS, until it wasn’t,” she said. “But that’s sad, too, about the Scribes. But policing knowledge is always a slippery slope. Every situation is different, what helps one person today hurts another one tomorrow. You can’t make choices for people you don’t know.” She was thinking more out loud now than anything else, too caught up in finding the right volume. The amulet was too hot to touch now, but she seemed to be getting on the right track reaching upwards. She paused and looked at Rio, smiling at him sheepishly, “Sorry, um--you don’t suppose you could reach up and grab me that one up there, do you?” Even cursed and half miserable, Morgan’s size never failed to show up and make things harder. “And I’ve noticed, but I have particular people in mind. It’s research for this new literary-historical project I’m starting.” That was a thing real scholars did, right?

“It was… hard to explain.” Orion thought on the teachings that his uncle at taught him. He wanted to phrase them correctly, to come from someone who knew the Scribes when they were still active. “The thing about scribes was that they didn’t make choices. Their whole philosophy was to observe and record. They never got involved, never made any decisions to our against anything. They were supposed to remain completely unbiased, stay out of things, and document history.” The Scribe’s principles sounded good on paper but couldn’t be translated into reality. It was impossible to ask someone to be completely unbiased about something. “Uh yeah sure” Rio stretched up and grabbed onto the text, handing it over to Professor Beck. “That sounds fun!” Orion was always looking for excuses to get out of the house, and a literary historical project, however vague that sounded, seemed right up his alley. “Not sure if there’s anything I can do to help out, but I’d love to get involved. What particular people?”

Oh, dear. Morgan should have seen this coming. She had, sort of, in a too-distant-to-worry way, but now Rio’s awkwardness and eagerness was looking her in the face and Earth and Stars she was not about to get a student mixed up in her mess. How was that going to go anyways? Yeah, sure, automatic A if you get maimed or traumatized in the process of this independent credit! But how much could she really lie about? She needed this information. The more curse activity she could chart, the better chance she might have of learning where it started, maybe even without the need for exorcists or haunted houses. And that was a very tempting prospect. “Oh, it’s not that interesting,” Morgan scoffed. “You know the Bachman house, on the Bend? That family. They just have a sordid history that--” How was she going to connect this with something? Was there even a subject they’d covered in class so far that Rio hadn’t been excited about? “--that might coincide with some narratological developments in the region. Other places in the region. And other people’s lives.” Definitely not hers, nope. “Anyway, I think this is actually my magic book, figuratively speaking, so I should probably--leave you to it.”

Orion followed along with the professor’s explanation. The last thing he wanted to do was insert himself into a study that Professor Beck was beginning without invitation. Maybe she planned on working on this by herself or maybe she had already chosen some students to work with. As long as one of those students wasn’t Athena, Orion would be fine. The last thing he needed was another thing for Athena to dangle over his head and taunt him with. She already had enough ammo against him. “Well that sounds super interesting! If you ever need any help, I’d be happy to lend a hand.” It was strange, Orion had been mortified when he first saw Professor Beck outside of the Scribe headquarters, and now he was almost sad to see her leave. Though he hadn’t realized it, Orion enjoyed having someone to share the space with. Especially someone that enjoyed learning like he did. It made the massive place seem marginally less lonely. “Oh yeah, of course. Well I’m glad you found something. I hope it’s what you’re looking for.”

Morgan edged back the way she’d come, dispelling her amulet and packing it into her bag, but her nerves felt twisted with guilt. This was an awfully strange place to be alone. It was a magical place in every sense of the word, but it was a lot of space for just one boy alone. It would have taken her a lot longer to find this place without him. He was owed something. She stopped, sighing, “Rio--” What did she even have to offer this kid? “I don’t know how much this place means to you or what’s going on, but if you wanted to come by my office to look over one of these old tomes together, or to talk about something your other instructors might not understand, you can, okay? And uh, I know I never said what I am, but I’m assuming it’s obvious at this point.” She gently floated one of the books near his head for emphasis.

The pity eyes. Orion did not hate them, didn’t even really mind them at this point. To him, they were just an ever-present gaze fixed on him. Surprising, that nobody knew the truth about his family and yet they still pitied the pathetic kid. It didn’t take much to realize who the black sheep of the family was. Orion was just the awkward twin brother, forever living in his sister’s shadow and making the adults around him feel bad for him. Professor Beck was trying, and Orion appreciated that. This place meant more to him than anybody could know. It functioned more than just a big library or connection to his Uncle. It had become a haven. “That would be great. It would be nice to get some other perspective.” Orion smiled, flinching back when he noticed the book floating around his head. “Woah.” He said, recovering quickly and smiling brightly. He reached his hand out gingerly, wrapping his fingers around the spine of the floating book and pulling it ever so gently closer to him. “That’s- incredible.” The magic amulet had been the first example, but the floating book helped solidify the theory. Professor Beck was a witch. “It would be really nice to have someone to talk to about this stuff.”

Morgan gave Rio a warm smile. “I’m trusting you a lot with that demonstration, okay? It means you have to stay the kind of guy who wouldn’t nark on someone just for being a witch, and help his teacher without asking any questions. And, hey, maybe by the time you come by, I’ll have some kind of amazing update on this research front! So now you have to, just to find out, right?”

Orion had to admit that he was pretty honored to learn about Professor Beck’s secret. “Your secret is safe with me. Trust me, I’m great with secrets.” A little too good apparently. His life had devolved into a spiral of too many secrets that he had no way of digging himself out of or escaping. Eventually, his own secrets would be too much for himself and he’d end up drowning in them. But he could keep somebody else’s secret. “Uh- let me know if you need anything else. Like I said, I’m happy to help.” He smiled, a genuine one. “I can walk you back out. The hallways can get a little confusing.”

@mor-beck-more-problems

#c: morgan #morgan #chatzy: morgan #chatzy #wickedchatzy #happy accidents

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