#not only do you have to walk through and ACTIVE PRISON COURTYARD but you also have to just

[yandere-daydreams]

how reader and the prison guards look at each other during the two hour elevator ride out of the fortress post wriothesley dick appointment (it's the fourth time this week) ((it's also tuesday)))

#i've just been thinking about this specific walk of shame recently #not only do you have to walk through and ACTIVE PRISON COURTYARD but you also have to just #get in that elevator and wait it out #only to be spat out right next to the most upscale place in fontaine #“babe why did you bring an evening gown i thought we were just--” #“shut the fuck up rn. you have no idea what i go through for you.” #are men truly ever worth it #personal

[dixonarchives]

[ᴅ.ᴅɪxᴏɴ] | 𝘀𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝗮𝘀 𝗮 𝗱𝗼𝗴

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: you end up getting sick from overall exhaustion and daryl is strangely worried about you

ᴀ/ɴ: gn reader. is daryl to ooc? i spiralled towards the end of this

The days seemed to get longer recently. The summers in America already sucked ass but in an apocalypse where AC doesn’t exist anymore and your days are spent doing countless hours of physical labour, it’s hard - extremely hard.

There’s only so many times you can avoid the eventual exhaustion that causes you to hit the hay, whether intended or not.

Today seemed to get more humid with every passing second and your hand can only take the strenuous activity of wiping the sweat off of your brow bone so many times.

“[Y/N] honey, are you okay?” Carols voice calls out. You’ve been at the fence for a couple of hours in what felt like a dream like state. As you come to and take in your surroundings, only then do you realise how many walker bodies are slumped against the fence in a puddle of dark, clumped blood.

Your skin feels sticky and the heat rolls off your body wearisomely. The random waves of sudden coolness accompanied by a rapid blast of warmth which radiated from the sun was the only thing that kept you half conscious as you fulfilled your obligated fence duties.

“Uh yeah,” Your reply definitely doesn’t convince Carol as she is quick to pluck the bloodied pole from your hand and drop it against the ground. The clashing sound it makes as it rattles against the chain link fence makes you wince painfully as a throbbing headache settles in your temples.

Maggie, who was also on fence duty walks over after hearing the pole clash with the fence. There isn’t a lot of walkers around the prison today so the sound it reverberated wasn’t drowned out by the demonic moans of the dead as it usually would be.

“Jesus [Y/N] you’re sweating up a storm” She observes with her hands placed on her hips. Honestly, your vision is quite fuzzy but you’re quick to dismiss it by telling yourself it’s the sun that’s making you squint and therefore everything is a bit blurry.

“Not use to the heat”

Carol scoffs softly “Honey you’ve been swaying back and forth this whole time”

“Honestly I’m fine, I think the heats just getting to me”

Maggie chews her lip with her eyebrow quirked quizzically “I’ll get daddy to look at them”

Your hand darts up in an attempt to shush Maggie but the sudden movement of your body causes your vision to blacken and your legs to buckle.

“[Y/N]!” Carol cries out, her hands swiftly pulling your arm to keep your slumped body from hitting the ground. She looks to Maggie who stands with her mouth agape.

“Go get Hershel!”

“Tha’ Hell happened?” As you come to, you can’t find the effort to open your eyes yet, but you’re awakened by the gruff voice you’ve become familiar with.

The daylight shines into the cell and even with your eyes closed it makes your eyebrows furrow in discomfort. The metal bars encasing the cell don’t help with keeping the light away from yourself as the beams reflect off of them and back onto you.

“Fainted. Don’t know exactly what from… but maybe a mixture of dehydration and exhaustion” Hershel explains. You can tell they’re talking about you, but the confusion that settles in your body on why you’re here and not outside still clouds your mind.

It takes a lot of effort to open your eyes but as you do, the sun seeps in which causes you to flick your hand upwards to shield them.

“You’re awake” Hershel observes, swivelling around on his chair to get a better look at you. A hiss passes through your lips as you try to push yourself up and your weakened arms to get a better view of your surroundings.

“Did I faint in the courtyard?” It seems to be the only logical explanation your mind can somehow muster since you have no recollection of walking into the cell block again. Even trying to justify it makes your head throb.

“Yes. Now you’re going to need to rest for the next couple days” Hershel explains as he fiddles with a couple of the prescription drugs lined along the small shelf beside the cell bed.

Daryl is still standing in the doorway, left arm strung across his chest as he grasps onto the strap connected to his crossbow. The expression on his face is unreadable - as usual. You can’t tell if he’s curious, unhappy or angry. He chews his bottom lip though, seemingly observing your condition.

“Take these and rest, preferably in the shade since I think the heat affected you too” Yeah, your body feel grimy. The stale sweat clinging to your skin makes you feel worse and now you’re aware of all the grime stuck to your body.

Hershel slowly resides from his chair, a groan escaping him as he balances his weight onto his crutches “I need to check on the baby”

Judith had only arrived a week ago and Rick had only rejoined the group above ground a couple days ago too. His grieving sent him spiralling and according to Hershel he thought that someone was speaking to him on the phone.

Poor guy.

“Why’d you do that to yourself” Daryl asks, pushing himself off of the cell bars. He sounds annoyed but his face seems to etched with concern.

“You think I wanted to faint?” The gall to imply that you overworked yourself irks you. Everyone’s been working hard and if anything, you feel as if you were not doing as much as the others.

Daryl grumbles to himself as he works the strap of his crossbow over his head so that he can set it on the ground. He sighs as he does so, shifting his attention back to you.

“Though’ you was smarter than that” Daryl drawls, eyes examining your slumped body. It’s scary for him to see you this way. Your eyes are dull and your scarily thinning face is starting to resemble a corpse (ironically).

Daryl’s words sound harsh but you know it’s how he expresses his concern. He’s not the type to outwardly say that he’s worried about you and although it seems abrasive, you know yourself it’s his way of conveying his feelings.

“Me too” A soft laugh passes your cracked lips with a small smile accompanying it. From your position, the sun that previously disrupted your vision created a glow around Daryl’s figure, one similar to an angel. Though you’d never say it to him, Daryl really is a Godsend for you and the group.

“Jus’ don’t do it again” He purses his lips, using the back of his hand to check the temperature on your head. The small moment of sudden skinship surprises you causing you to flinch only slightly. Daryl’s orbs waver slightly as he pulls his hand back and nods stiffly.

And with that he leaves the infirmary.

“‘Ere, take these” A bottle finds its way hurling towards you. It’s an easy catch, but you blink harshly as the surprise catches you off-guard.

The white bottle rattles noisily, catching the attention of Maggie and Carol who glance over to see what the noise was.

“Really drugging her up, Daryl” Carol laughs light-heartedly. Her smile seems to infectious as you begin to grin too.

“Thanks Daryl” He nods, swinging his backpack onto the metal table with an unceremonious thump “Don’ mention it”

The label is aged and the faded letters read as ‘Paetamol’ but from common knowledge, you know it’s just plain old Paracetamol. It’ll help with the small migraines you’ve been getting since your initial diagnosis a couple of days ago but the constant medication seems a bit too much.

The past couple of been a pleasant surprise with Daryl going on constant runs for medicines as his excuses all seem to be along the lines of “Can’t let more people getting sick without medicine.”

Honestly, it’s been something that you’ve been thinking about the past couple of days. He’s been more caring - or at least made it more visible. He’d often walk past you and check your temperature with the back of his hand or personally give you the medicine dosage Hershel claimed to be fit for you. (Mostly consisted of whatever vitamin tablets Daryl could find).

You decide to leave the tablets sitting on the cafeteria table having already decided that you shouldn’t waste the medicine on a measly headache that would be cured with a nap or sitting in a darker area for a short period of time.

The walk to your cell is short and Beth sweetly asks if you’d like the curtain strung over the bars closed to keep the lights out. You nod and the kind girl closes them, wishing you a get well as she presumes you’ll get some rest.

Though, as you barely settle onto the thin mattress you’ve come accustomed to, the sheet that Beth had slung over to keep the light out swings open. The gust of wind brings relief to your hot face but the fact that Daryl has just rushed into your private quarters causes you to forget the momentary alleviation you felt.

“Why aren’t you takin’ the goddam medicine?” He asks as he shakes the bottle in his closed fist. It causes you to titter for a little.

“Why are ya laughin’? I went on a run for this shit”

“Daryl as much as I appreciate it, I don’t need anymore medicine” You decline his outstretched hand with a gentle tap. His eyes flicker between his fist and your face as if to see if you were lying about your health.

“That’s jus’ you bein’ polite” He dismisses it with an almost glare-like expression. You don’t know why he’s so adamant for you to take every pill he trusts towards you but it’s almost heartwarming to be the centre of his worries.

He continues to hold them out like a stubborn child holds out their fist to receive a sweet or some chocolate.

“I’m better now” You offer him a soft smile to try and reassure him that you are in good health. He pulls his arm back, seemingly now trusting your words.

He clears his throat awkwardly “If ya say so”.

A moment of silence passes where his eyes flicker anywhere but you “Honestly, why are you so worried about me? I only fainted”

Daryl stiffens - or not you’re just unsure if he’s just standing as he usually does - and swallows thickly. He looks towards his enclosed fist wherein he holds the encased capsules with a softened expression.

He swivels on his heel and turns his back to you. You can tell already he feels awkward since he’s conforming to his usual tendency to flee when encountered with embarrassment.

“Yer’ talkin’ shit” He leaves, allowing the makeshift curtain to fall back into place and cover the cell in a sheet of darkness.

You don’t even feel the smile that’s still planted on your face until your cheeks begin to burn.

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon imagines #daryl dixon x reader #twd x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon scenarios #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #twd fanfic #daryl dixon fanfic

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

Dream SMP Recap (July 10/2021) - The Beets Episode

Tubbo, Sam and Foolish create a definitely-not-a-cult based around beets for the good of vegans, turning the newly cleared-out area by the Prime Path into one giant stretch of farmland. 

---

VOD LINKS:

Awesamdude

Tubbo

Tommyinnit

Captain Puffy

---

- While wandering around the server, Tubbo notices that he’s having trouble finding food and decides to create a farm

- He asks Sam for help, and Sam points out the cow farms. Tubbo tells him to think of the vegans. Tubbo suggests beetroots instead

- Foolish arrives, dressed as Mario, and they declare him “Beets Man”

- They turn Hutt’s Pizza into Hutt’s Beetza

- Tubbo reads Connor’s diary

- Tubbo wants to create an empire of beets all the way to the Community House. They shall be the Beets Trio, and after they create the beet farm, they will destroy every other source of food

- Sam learns that Fran has been stolen. Time to blow things up

- They go to Puffy’s temple and blow up her pictures. They debate killing one of the parrots, but instead return to beet farming

- Fundy logs on and they make him a Beets Brother. If he doesn’t join their initiative, it means he hates vegans. Fundy hesitantly agrees to join since he does not hate vegans

- Fundy arrives and is shocked by the amount of beets. He also notices they got rid of the Socializing Club, to which they respond that it is all for the beets

- If someone says they do not like beets, they will cut off their balls. “Anti-Beeters Lose a Ball.” How else will they supply for the war if they don’t have enough beets?

- Some people do hate vegans, so they will be going to war against them. There is already conflict between Toby Carvery and Vegan Pizza

- Fundy starts crying while planting beets

- Sam points out that beets are a very inefficient food source

Tubbo: “Sam, do you want kids when you’re older or am I gonna have to step in here? Like, you know imagine it, you’re in your what -- your fuckin’ thirties and you’re settling down, Sam, and you wanna have kids but then you’re like ‘oh wait! I forgot! I don’t like beetroot so I don’t have any balls!’ So, you know. ‘Cause I will step in. With force.”

Sam: “You’ll step in? With force? Would you say that you mean business almost?”

Tubbo: “No, I don’t mean business. I mean beets.”

- Their political party will be “the Beeties”

- Fundy is horrified to see that he has accidentally harvested a beet that was not ready to be harvested. He continues crying as he plants. If they take breaks, the vegans suffer. As they farm, Sam and Fundy whisper to each other:

Sam: let’s run away

Fundy: but I like vegans

Sam: so do I. They will understand.

Fundy: they want me to harvest the beets. I want them to like me. I like vegans they must like me back. I shall continue

Sam: I shall free you from this one day.

Fundy: plant.. harvest.. repeat.. plant.. harvest.. repeat.. plant.. harvest.. repeat.. plant.. harvest.. repeat.. plant.. harvest.. repeat.. plant.. harvest.. repeat..

Sam: I will take you to a better place.

- Tubbo’s hoe breaks and they mark the block where it happened to remember the history. They decide to halt, finishing Stage 1. Fundy is the Chosen One and will play a key role in Stage 26

- Sam whispers to Fundy that it is time and leads Tubbo and Foolish to the other side of the hill. They admire their work and destroy Tommy’s fence, as it intrudes on the beets

- Tommy logs on. Tubbo tells Sam that Tommy stole his dog

- Sam whispers to Fundy that it’s time and they run. As Tommy comes over, Fundy and Sam run by and hand him steak. Fundy makes it away for now. Sam tells him to be free as he returns to the beet farm

- Tommy sees the beets. He isn’t pleased, and Fundy falls to his death

Tubbo: “Clearly you hate the vegans.”

Tommy: “Of course I hate vegans!”

- Tubbo draws his axe. As Tommy backs away, Tubbo shoots and kills him. Sam immediately starts running to the prison to get the revive book from Dream (but Tommy has already respawned)

- Tubbo tells Tommy that in time, he too will be a fan of the beets

- Fundy returns and they watch as he jumps into one of the beets watering hole before returning to work

- Tommy tells the beets men to get off his land and rebuilds the fence. Fundy comes up to them having stopped working. Sam says Fundy should quit. Fundy starts walking around, planting beets wherever he goes

- Sam wants to go find Fran and no longer wishes to continue with this. Tubbo protests

- They point out that even the bats are harvesting beets. Seeing this, Fundy realizes that if bats harvest beets, then Fundy does not have to harvest beets

Fundy: “FUNDY IS FREE!”

- He jumps from the path and dies

- Tommy has decided he wants to let go of the war items he no longer needs, since the server is peaceful now

- Tubbo tries to convince Sam to stay, offering every belonging he owns

- Sam turns and walks away, leaving Tubbo in anguish

- The rain goes away and Tubbo decides he actually can do it without Sam

- Tommy makes it to Pogtopia and visits the storage vault

- Tubbo and Foolish ponder what to do if not planting beets on the other side of the path...Pumpkins. They decide on pumpkins. Foolish becomes Yoshi

- Tommy reaches Logsted. He wants people in iron armor, not Netherite. He digs a hole with a chest and stores the gear, ending with the Axe of Peace

- Tommy has decided he doesn’t want to keep a stretch of the railway that’s connected to his house, as it reminds him of losing Henry. He gets rid of part of the railway

- Tubbo and Foolish decide to do beets again instead

- Tommy destroys his gravestone in Puffy’s graveyard

- Tommy does some cleaning up of the land

- Meanwhile, Sam successfully finds Fran and goes mining in the Nether

- Tommy goes back to Tubbo and tells him he has learned what a ‘cuck’ is at last. Tommy has also brought seeds and asks for a large portion of the farm to be dedicated to wheat. Tubbo doesn’t approve. They don’t want business, just beets

- Tommy starts running. They try to get Tommy to eat one beet, explaining that they can bypass pregnancy with beets

- Tommy pretends to eat one. He gates off his property and tells them they are now on gated territory

- He notices them return to his property after a bit, chasing a pig named Wiggles. Tommy decides to indoctrinate Wiggles

- Tubbo and Foolish bridge over above the roof of Tommy’s house, outside of the chunk

- Tommy’s landlord is Jesus Christ

- Tommy gets a saddle and puts it on Wiggles. He gets on the pig and logs out. Foolish and Tubbo find out that Wiggles has disappeared

- Sam goes to the prison. He shows a glimpse of the courtyard

- Tubbo and Foolish ask Sam if he ever found Fran. Sam says yes, and Tubbo explains about Tommy taking Wiggles

- Foolish suggests they get Tommy’s family and hold them hostage

- Sam says Tubbo’s dog needs to be put down. They start bickering until the dog gets pushed off the Power Tower and falls to his death

- Tubbo demands Sam be put in the prison. They go to the prison and Tubbo asks to be let in. Sam says Tubbo can only visit the entrance. He tries to bribe Sam and Sam says he’d be willing to do a tour for a shulker box

- Tubbo begs and begs until eventually Sam gives in. Tubbo immediately activates Sam’s stasis chambers and Sam says he’ll kill him...as soon as he mines through the glass with Mining Fatigue. After a minute of mining, Tubbo places concrete as soon as Sam finally breaks one block

- Sam finally gets out and Tubbo reluctantly leaves...and immediately breaks the portal mechanics by spawning a new portal in the entryway

- Tubbo actually leaves, with Sam now having to mine more obsidian

- Puffy is not happy about the new beet farm. Puffy replaces the beets with potatoes and talks with Foolish, who insists on the beets

- Foolish replaces the potatoes with beets, which Puffy destroys and tries to replace with potatoes, and this goes on for a while. Puffy complains that they could have had room for so many cool buildings, but Foolish doesn’t see why one would build instead of having beets

- Puffy tells Foolish he has a choice to make and watches as he eats a steak. She declares it “potato time”

- They wonder about which side Dream would be one. Puffy says that he would likely be more of a potato guy

- Puffy keeps planting potatoes, and Michael logs on as well. Puffy asks him which he prefers, potatoes or beets, and Michael says potatoes

- Michael sees the farm and Puffy explains what happened with L’Targay and the beets farm

- The three of them chat. Dream was sentenced to prison for being a silly goose

- They also talk about shirt-wearing koalas, maid outfits and plenty more and continue to chat for a while

---

Upcoming events remain the same.

#dream smp #dream smp recaps #long posts #long post

[tendertenebrosity]

Part 6 of Illiam and Helis’ story. Masterpost is here. 

This piece carries on directly from the last one ; they really should be read together. Enjoy!

Taglist: @castielamigos-whump-side-blog, @doglover82; @top-hat-aye; @burtlederp; @just-a-raccoon-with-wifi   @thesleepysnapdragon

Illiam’s breath puffed into mist as he climbed the stairs, feet unerring on the familiar steps in the darkness.

When the weather allowed it, you could see for a long way from de Graer castle’s outer walls - craggy hills straggling into the distance, patchworked with farmland and the spreading darkness of forest, along with the huddled roofs and rising threads of smoke of the nearest town. All of it laid out in the moonlight like a rumpled quilt in dark gray and silver.

But Illiam didn’t head in that direction. He turned instead to walk the inner walls.

The air was chill against the exposed skin of his face and hands. It was late; so late that it would soon be early. The only people other than Illiam up at this hour were the guards, stationed silent and still along the walls. They knew better than to disturb Illiam, so he strode past them unacknowledged.

He slowed to a stop once he was no longer in view of any of the soldiers, to look over the inner side of the wall and down into the castle ward. A few smoky torches were lit. Illiam knew that, with his father’s return, it would have been like a kicked ants’ nest this afternoon, bustling with the activity of soldiers returning, supplies and equipment being unloaded, horses led to stables, wounded being treated and nobility ordering everybody around.

But that had been hours ago. Now the place was silent, and empty.

Or almost empty.

Outside the soldier’s barracks, up against a scarred wooden wall, a figure was standing. No, not standing - hanging from his wrists, the chains looped over an iron spike too high for his feet to reach the ground. The head hung down, chin against chest so that Illiam couldn’t see the face, only curly hair matted with blood. The green and grey of the Crestmead uniform was stained a dull, ugly brown with more blood - as were the hands that curled uselessly above the shackles, and the bare feet that hung against the wall.

Illiam propped one elbow up on the wooden barrier that stood between him and the twenty-foot drop down into the ward. Helis’ companion, the Southerner academic. What had they called him? Reed.

He was still alive - the figure’s breathing was laboured, so much that Illiam could easily see his chest heaving from here. He wasn’t sure if the man might be crying, or struggling to breathe past internal injuries, or if it was just that difficult to get air in that position.

Illiam stood there, leaning against the wall even though the wind up here snatched away warmth through his clothing, drummed his fingers on the wood, and watched the prisoner struggling for breath. He had seen scenes like this before. Not closely, but more often than he would have preferred.

Often enough to know how this would go. Oh, their story made perfect sense; a lot more sense than Crestmead choosing to send the most useless spies imaginable to Rosdan because they had somehow caught wind of his father’s invasion plans. It was just extremely bad luck that they’d been there at that time.

Reed from Crestmead was exactly what he and Helis said he was - Illiam could see that. His father probably saw it by now, too. But it didn’t matter. Reed would probably live until morning, be questioned again, continue giving his father’s men nothing because there was nothing to give, and eventually once they were satisfied with that he’d die.

It might be a while.

There had been no need to tell Helis that, he told himself, absently picking at a fleck of blood under one nail. They were a soft, fragile creature of the South, where those in power weren’t allowed to do such things -  Illiam suspected this past few days had already exposed them to more violence than they’d ever seen in their cosseted little life. It would be cruelty with no purpose to tell them about the scene in front of Illiam.

They weren’t hardened to such things. Like Illiam was.

Illiam let his head drop into his hands, trying to breathe slowly and deliberately. His work finished and Helis taken away to his quarters, Illiam should have retired to bed himself. Heaven knew, he was tired enough. And there was so much to do tomorrow.

He doubted Helis was going to speed anything up - quite the opposite, they’d already cost him a day’s work, and it wouldn’t be the last.    

Illiam also doubted his father had bought any of his arguments about wanting an assistant. It was a thin justification - Illiam had always worked alone, had achieved his greatest successes alone, didn’t even really know how he would go about integrating another person into his process. But it had been the only thing that he could think of.

Hard to say what the Duke thought Illiam’s reasons were for wanting Helis; but he had not been impressed. Illiam had lost some of his father’s respect. Doubtless he thought Illiam was giving free rein to some stupid, petty, emotional impulse.

And is he wrong? Illiam asked himself sarcastically. He curled his hands into fists against his temples. What on earth and heaven possessed you? There must have been a subtler way, a smarter way, you could have gone about this, but no! You couldn’t take five minutes to think this through! No, of course not, you had to act on the first harebrained idea that jumped into your head. And now you have a backlog of work, another reason for Father to doubt you, an assistant who hates you, and another damn responsibility!

The whole situation was ridiculous and Illiam fully deserved his father’s contempt. Illiam hadn’t thought about his classmates from the Academy of Magic in months. And why should he have? It had been years ago, and it wasn’t as if he’d left anybody heartbroken by his departure. Quite the opposite - they had all despised him, every last one of his Southern classmates, and the feeling was mutual. He’d left them behind long ago and they didn’t matter.

They saw me as an enemy from the beginning. No matter the diplomacy, the pretty lies and the wishful thinking, my classmates never trusted me. And they were quite wise in that, weren’t they? All he’d ever wanted or needed from that place was knowledge. Why should he care what happened to any of them?

If it had been literally anybody else, he told himself savagely, if it had been Joss or Remy or Diamand or anybody else from that class, he wouldn’t have done it. Maybe when he’d heard the familiar voice he’d have wandered over to see if it really was them, but he wouldn’t have lifted a finger to stop what was happening. 

But it hadn’t been Joss or Remy. It had been Helis. Placid little Helis, with their soft brown eyes and dainty white wings. The least military person Illiam could think of. The last person he would have expected to see. What the hell were they doing in that forest? Crestmead shouldn’t have sent them, of all people, anywhere near Toralda. What had they been expecting?

Illiam sighed heavily and stood upright. He lifted his gaze to the sky; the view was spoiled a little by the torches in the ward that he’d been looking at, but the stars were still visible. That was what he’d come out here to find, wasn’t it?

He stared out across the dark and the cold, and tried unsuccessfully to calm himself down enough to go back inside and get some sleep. Standing up here in the wind ranting to himself about Crestmead Academy and his own stupidity wasn’t achieving anything. What was done was done, and he’d achieved all he could tonight. It should have been easy, to fill his thoughts with the calm of the stars and the snow and the silence. Usually, it was. He should go inside and to bed.

It was past midnight; aside from the silhouettes of guards against the night sky on the opposite wall, there was nobody in sight. The castle slept.

And down there in the ward, alone in the cold… the Southerner fought for each breath. Illiam’s gaze found him again, but he already knew he would still be there.  Still breathing raggedly, on and on, suffering with no purpose and no end in sight. Illiam knew he was there, and would continue to know it alone in his bedroom.

Illiam leaned forward, concentrating. His fingers fell still against the railing as he formed the shape of the spell in his mind’s eye. No need for anything more complicated, no hand gestures or sketched symbols.

The spell arced invisibly across the courtyard, and found its mark. The ragged figure hanging from the wall jerked, silently, unnoticed - and fell still. No longer moved by that awful, laboured, painful breathing.  

Illiam brushed away nonexistent dirt from his hands, let his lip curl in disgust, and turned away.

There. Never let it be said that Illiam de Graer’s a liar.

He’s an impetuous idiot and a sentimental fool. 

But he’s not a liar.

#Illiam #Helis #Villain POV #non-binary whumpee #aftermath of torture #character death tw #fantasy whump #self-loathing #self-deprecation #references to torture #stress position #mercy killing #self-delusion #yeah sure Illiam #you never tell lies

[the-gunslock]

Hiver 2 - Gunslock

This is the story of how I got this title months ago, and why I stuck with it.

At the dawn of a new day, Hiver and her two Hunter clanmates, Selene and Reyla, were off to seek their allies in the Tower Courtyard, joking the whole way. They are immortal, but they love to make every second count.

“…Hawthorne went ‘Dead Orbit?’ and I was like–”

“Gunslock.”

They heard someone shout. All of them got confused and tried to find the source of the call. Turns out it was two Hunters who were loitering near the railings, looking at Hiver’s fireteam. They approach them. Selene, although confused, decides whatever they have to do for the day is more important than these two.

“Uhm. Can we help you?” She asks in annoyance, hoping to get it over with soon.

“Yeah, this one Warlock here…she made a name for herself around her fellow Strike fireteams. You, as Hunters, oughta be ashamed of it.” One of the Hunters, an Awoken, replies to them, scratching his chin, voice full of venom.

“What does Gunslock even mean.” Hiver questions flatly.

“It means,” the second one steps up, replying beneath his rusty greenish Prodigal Mask, “that you’re doing a better job at being a Gunslinger than actual Gunslingers.”

Hiver’s hand unconsciously floats over her thigh where her cannon is stored.  “A… Gunslinger… Warlock?”

“Ya think just because you got a Cayde’s fancy Hand Cannon,” He points towards her replica of the Ace of Spades, “and can shoot some heads, it means you can try to step into our turf?” He asks, his body language smug and accusatory. It almost feels like a challenge.

“I’m better than them?” Hiver turns to her friends, puzzled. “…Am I better than you? I know I was revived a bit earlier, but…” Both shrug. Hiver turns back at the Hunter, eyebrow raised.

They trade looks, impatient. The Awoken one transmats on his white Floating Cowl helmet and makes a proposition. “How about a showdown, smartass? Braytech, Mars, one hour. Bring your best cannon.”

Hiver shrugs at this situation. “Sure, I think. Just gotta do our thing here at the Tower.”

The Hunters transmat away, into their ships. The clanmates go get their bounties and soon they’re also on their ships, on their merry way to Mars.

“An actual ‘standoff’. I thought these only existed in fiction.” Trinity, Hiver’s Ghost, comments, bobbing beside her in the ship’s cockpit.

“Something’s not right. They felt crooked to me.” Reyla states, thinking out loud. “These guys are weird. Hiver, be careful.”

Trinity looks at Hiver in worrying. “Do you girls mind watching my back?” The Warlock indulges, arms behind her seat’s headrest.

“Sure. I’ll keep them on the other side of my scope.” Reyla replies, loading her Long Shadow sniper.

“Selene?”

“I’ll do the best I can.” The other Hunter loads a clip into her Jade Rabbit scout rifle. “Joan,” she whispers to her own Ghost. “Patch through to Ana. Send that footage, tell her that this could be dangerous. Just in case.”

They exist Slipspace and quickly enters Mars’ orbit. The three guardians meet in front of the BrayTech Futurescape, right beside Rasputin’s Escalation Protocol pillar. Ana is looking on from inside her headquarters with her optic enhancements.

Hiver, laid back, left hand on her belt and right one near her thigh, is facing the first Guardian, the one with the Prodigal Mask. His stance was alert, almost predatory, and his gauntlets were crude, with metal crooked and bent in all directions; If she didn’t know any better, she would have thought it was just improvised armor. 

However, her miserable Crucible matches made her aware that these bent blades were a piece of Exotic armor – Shards of Galanor. On his leg, a black gun with green lights, one she didn’t immediately recognize.

But she had a hunch. One that gave the duel higher stakes if she was right.

Trinity was out of sight, playing an old, pre-Golden Age song. Intense, instrumental, said to be a theme of a famous movie about duels of old Hunters. Perched in the unused trains to the east, Reyla sat with her sniper at the ready. Peeking from around a corner, Selene was ready to run in at any sign of danger.

The Hunter’s companion was nowhere to be seen. Hiver’s Eye of Another World helmet highlighted an enemy behind her, so she could only assume it was him, and not some stray Hive Acolyte. Escalation Protocol was not active. It seems they went a great length to clear out the showdown area.

The music only got more intense as time went on, and the Hunter spoke.

“You shouldn’t get that close, lady.”

“I’m like ten meters away from you.” Hiver said, her hand begging to draw Ace at any moment.

“No.”

The other Hunter, using his crisp-white Sixth Coyote vest, has managed to quickly close the gap behind the Warlock, putting her in a full Nelson hold.

She can’t move.

He’ll probably break her shoulders or neck. She silently panics for a while, while her clanmates are listening in on the comms, trying to understand just what is going on.

The first Hunter takes some steps towards them and takes his gun, fiddling with it. “Looking for his cannon too, are ya? You do not know what you’re getting into by going after ‘every Hand Cannon that exists.’” He said, nodding at her leg where Ace was holstered. “Think you could convince that foolish rat with his little game at the Tower into turning a blind eye to your ‘collecting’? He prolly did.”

He twirls his bulky gun in his hand before turning it towards the Warlock’s head. It reeks of death.

“But we didn’t. You’re gonna have to get this one eventually. And when you do… you’re sealing the deal of who you really are… Dredgen.”

Trinity sends a sign to Reyla. At the same time she shoots the cannon out of the Hunter’s hand, Hiver unleashes a Thunderstrike out of her hands into her captor, who is staggered and lets her go. She elbows him in the face and notices the Prodigal Hunter leaping into the air, channeling Solar energy to his knives. The white-armored hunter behind her is trying to grab ahold of her again, this time with his knife in hand.

Selene jumps out of cover and manages to shoot his chest with Jade Rabbit and cause him to flinch, giving Hiver the chance to blink forward as the Prodigal Hunter launches his Blade Barrage, mistakenly hitting and killing his ally.

Mirroring Cayde’s performance in the Prison of Elders, Hiver uses her blink momentum to slide under the airborne hunter and shoot him in the chest and throat with Ace, causing him to lose all chance of a smooth landing and crashing near his friend, almost dead.

The Warlock catches her breath and examines the Prodigal’s gun as she walks past. She recognizes its luminescent, arcane smoke. The otherworldly fear that this one gun represented – just now pointed towards her.

Thorn.

It’s back. She didn’t even know.

She holsters Ace and walks up to their bodies. The first Hunter, who wore white armor themed after the Trials of the Nine, laid deceased and his body bled from where the Prodigal Hunter’s knives hit. The other wasn’t dead, but was choking and struggling to breathe.

“Shadow.” She said, her voice full of spite over almost ending all her lives to the hand of two insane, power-hungry vermin.

He coughs. “Yeah… So what?” He tries getting up, but simply doesn’t have the strength. “You think yourself a hero, like… like the Man with the Golden Gun?” He points towards his fallen Thorn. “D’you dare to use the Dark… if it meant you got what you wanted?”

Hiver remained silent. He continues. “You two… are just as foolish. We… we do. It’s… heh– incredible. Addicting. And… there’s…” wheeze “so many more. You think… you can out-shoot us all?”

Having enough of this man, Hiver plants a foot on his chest and puts one of Ace’s bullets through his head. She twirls it and puts it back on her leg. Even though she has that wish to grant herself – she doesn’t dare touch the Shadow’s Thorn. Her connection to the Light feels rotten by even coming near it.

Reyla and Selene are slowly coming to rendezvous, guns still in hand. Ana has contacted the Vanguard and is reporting the situation to them. Trinity pops out of transmat near Hiver’s chest. “You know, they are Guardians too. They can just come back after you if they have Ghosts.”

With that, the squad hears the characteristic summoning of a Golden Gun. They all look back to see the bandits’ Ghosts being destroyed in two fiery explosions, the last one shattering the corrupted cannon on the ground.

Looking around, they spot the source. A meddling Gunslinger, wearing battered, outdated armor. But he stood with pride, and it showed, even though his face was covered by his visor. And, under it, perhaps a layer of satisfaction.

“Warlock. Hunters.” He greeted. His voice was deep, almost guttural. She greeted back with a thankful nod.

“Hello.”

The Hunter eyed the ashen bullet-hole that his Golden Gun left on the ground where Thorn was. He quickly turned to the fireteam, and all he uttered was a slow, very clear “Nice work”.

The Fireteam was ready to leave it at that and go on with their day.

That is until the Gunslinger turned around to leave and, under the swooshing motion of his tattered cloak, the women spotted the glint of a golden hand cannon on his leg.

#destiny 2 #destiny oc #destiny fic #destiny warlock #destiny hunter #hiver the gunslock

[villainqueen]

The Marriage of Heaven and Hell - Chapter 3

V X Fem!Reader fanfiction, set after the events of Devil may Cry 5.

Prologue /  Chapter 1 /  Chapter 2 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5

Ao3 [Link]

Chapter 3

How can the bird that is born for joy Sit in a cage and sing?

 August 1st 12:10 pm

Nero and V went through a long corridor, following the sound of gunshots and several screams. They soon got to the source of the noises, as reached the inner courtyard that was filled with fountains, angel sculptures, most of them overgrown with ivy, and a wide variety of flowerbeds. The fountain in the middle was dry and the water in it muddy and green, yet the place didn't make the impression it was vacant for over more than a few years. Something that was of much more interest, was the tower on the other side of the courtyard. The door was locked by a heavy chain, keeping the Misra demons, that were desperately trying to get inside, out. At least for the time being. However, another possibility was that, whatever was inside that tower, was locked up there cause even the windows of it were endowed with metal bars. Regardless, not all demons were scratching at that one door, most of them were busy fighting with a group of humans, the majority of them already fallen. Nero didn’t waste time shooting bullets at a demon that was on top of one of the remaining, living men.

"What a mess. Come on stupid monkeys, why not fight someone in your own league?" Nero exclaimed as he went straight into battle with the demons. V who couldn't summon Griffon, helped the remaining people to get to safety.

"T-thanks, we didn't think that we'd get surrounded by so many of them..." said one of them while trying to catch his breath. Three men survived this surprise attack. One of them on the wedge of death, due to wound in his chest. The other two appeared unharmed yet deeply shaken. They clearly were a group of demon hunters themselves, or rather wannabe demon hunters. Armed to the teeth with guns and close combat weapons like swords and knifes yet they're clearly lacked experience. Otherwise they wouldn't let themselves getting cornered by so many enemies who are weak by themselves but have the strength in numbers.

“You better take that guy and get out of here, otherwise you might join your fallen comrades." declared V calmly as he pointed his cane to the wounded hunter. With an understanding nod they took their comrade and went same route V and Nero previously came through. That path should be clear of all demons for now but that didn’t mean it stayed that way for long.

"If they hurry up, they'll might survive" muttered V while turning back to Nero, who had almost eradicated all demons by himself.

"You know what V, you could help me out a bit more!"

"Apologies, I'm not at my full strength, yet. But since you're already done, let us continue."

"Fine by me, which way?" as soon as Nero's question was spoken, V raised his cane pointing towards the door of the tower.

"Whatever is locked in that strange tower had the demons’ interest. I suggest taking a look ourselves."

"Sure, and you think it's a good idea to disturbed whatever is locked up in a dungeon? If we unleash hell on earth, you'll be the one to clean up the mess this time." Nero replied with annoyance but went up to the door regardless. With a few shots from the Blue Rose aimed at the lock, it cracked open.

"Good thing we came in time, I'm sure the demons were close to break inside!" muttered Nero after ripping the chains away from the door.

"How peculiar. Not only the demons but the church is also searching for something in this place. This was the originally purpose for this mission. Clearing this castle of any demon activity was only a secondary objective. A façade so to speak. I think it would be better if we found, whatever they're looking for, before they do."

They opened the heavy door with a loud creak. Something that indicated that this door was kept closed for a long time.

"After you." offered Nero as he made an inviting gesture with his hand. "You wanted to get in there, so you get eaten by whatever's locked inside first." he joked.

V stepped through the door followed by Nero, searching through each and every room in this tower. All of them prison cells long unoccupied. They were shabby and dark with few furnishings. Like one would expect. However, none was inhabited till they reached the last one at the top. A faint rustling of fabric and the rattling of chains was echoing through the silence of this place. The door to that cell was not even locked, which further indicated it was highly possible that there was never any other prisoner inside the tower, beside whoever was in kept in that room. V slowly pushed the door open. In this small room sat a woman on a simple wooden chair beside a barred window. She was dressed in a white silk dress, that was almost thin enough to see through yet still hid her skin underneath and had heavy chains around her wrists and ankles. The most striking of all features was the iron masked she wore, obscuring her face and clearly her view, leaving her blind.

 Once V went inside the cell, you tilted your head in his direction and spoke in a calm but gentle voice; "Who art thou? This is the prison chamber of a maiden. Tarnished, it shall not be, by the feet of men." Your voice took V a bit by surprise. How could a woman be kept here all those years and still live? The castle was at least sealed for half a century. Their theory must have been right, time stopped for everything inside the castle, including this prisoner.

"Okay, didn't really expect to find a woman here…" Nero said in disbelief to V as he followed behind him.

"My apologies for the intrusion, we are demon hunters, out here to kill the evil that infested in this place. And you are?" asked V in a curious but almost friendly tone. The last thing he wanted was scaring you. And the mystery of this mission just became a great deal bigger. Was the church searching for a girl? Did the demon attack the castle because of you? Or was it all just a coincidence?

"Thou'rt forgiven. I am (Y/N), prisoner of Dunscaith castle and to this wretched mask."

"Man, why do I always meet the weirdos?" Nero sighed in annoyance. "So V, what do you think? She gives up some really strange vibes but-" Nero stopped himself before he could finish the sentence, but V understood what he meant. To him you gave of an elusive feeling, soothing not at all threatening, yet clearly something not human. It wasn't impossible that you were a demon, deceiving humans by taking a less threating form, this was basically demon 101. That made it not unlikely that the demons and maybe even the church were after you.

"Whatever she is, I doubt it's a coincidence that she's kept here. And that means we have only two options, either kill her or take her with us."

"Kill her? I'm all for killing demons you could almost say I love it but really, killing a defenseless woman? Nah, there is no fun in that." mumbled Nero clearly uneasy with the thought. Nero was a little punk at times sure, but he had his heart at the right place.

While lowering your head down you spoke again: "So be it, I can no longer resist ye."

"Hey hey, wait we're not killing you!" panicked Nero a bit. While V, who had his eyes fixed on the you, the imprisoned woman. He clearly had his trouble interpreting your behavior. If you really were a demon, why offering your head so willingly to them? It just wouldn't make a lot of sense. Would a demon take its charade that far?

"Let's take her with us. We can't leave her here with all the demons lurking around." with that V took a few steps towards you grabbing your arm slightly, to gently lead you out of the tower.

"May I pose thee a question? By what name shall I address ye both?" you asked with a quiet, muffled voice. It made V almost chuckle. It was a welcome difference to hear someone talk with manners unlike his other acquaintances.

"You can call me V and that boy, that is Nero."

As they arrived at the tower door in the inner courtyard, V released you from his touch. The place where his hand touched you burned slightly; you weren’t used to any touch at all. And even though you could not see your surroundings, it was a relief to be freed from our dusty cell. It was clearly visible through your mannerisms as you relaxed your tense body just a little.

"Thou'st a kind heart. To speak to a captive such as I."

"I don’t really get what she is saying. Anyway, we still need to kill the rest of the demons here. Not gonna lie, could be difficult if we have to babysit her!" Nero declared while scratching his head.

"Who dares to say he is going to kill us? Don't you know who we are, puny mortal?" Suddenly a demon jumped from the roof across the yard down in front of them. It had the shape of a bull with its head split open and two horns on each side. In the middle where the spilt normally should reveal its insides, was a mess of teeth and flesh visible. Its body wasn't more pleasant to look at either as it was rotting away. A sickly sweet the smell underlined this further.

"Jeez, I’ve seen some ugly fucks but you, you're on another level. That's a face not even a mother could love!" taunted Nero the demon bull.

"How dare you! We are Gulganna the great demon and you, give her to us and we’ll might kill you last!"

 August 1st 10:00 am

Dante walked alongside the aisle of an imposing chapel cheerful whistling the melody of some famous gospel song. This caught the attention of a praying priest who sat in the front row of benches, his holy book in hand.

"In the name of our lord, I do!" Dante joked as he arrived at the altar, turning in an overdramatic fashion to the priest. The priest, visible unamused by Dante’s eccentrics, gave him an unfriendly glare as he spoke: "And how can I help you son, do you wish to confess or pray?"

"Confess, yes that's a really nice keyword here. How about you're gonna start with that!" said Dante while raising one of his guns fight in front of the priests face.

"Son, you are in a house of god!"

"Yeah, I was never the religious type and a gun makes your kind talk much faster. Believe me, not the first time I tried… so much for a vow of silence, am I right?"

"You wouldn't dare to commit such an act in this holy place!"

Bang!

As soon as the priest finished his sentence Dante fired his Ebony right next to that man’s face, leaving a bullet hole in the wooden bench. "Now how about you answer a few questions, you know who I am?"

"A demon spawn, that is what you are! Born out of debauchery between a witch and a demon. A vile creature!" shouted the priest with strong disdain in this voice. Dante didn't care about these types of insults; he was used to the holier-than-thou attitude of churches and their devoted people. And needless to say, he wasn't much of a fan.

"Yeah sure, anyway let's get straight to the point, shall we? The other clerics I visited so far told me, you’d know more. What is the deal with castle Dunscaith?"

"You would not even begin to comprehend. The rapture is upon us! The angel will come and open the heavens for us and we, the faithful, will ascend to a higher plane. We will shred humanity and embrace the divine!" With each word the priest spoke he became more ecstatic and deranged. Dante could recognize a fanatic when he saw one and this was not the first one, he encountered over the years.

"Oh great, I don't speak lunatic so how about you tell that's going on before I'll have to end you?"

"Killing me won't change much I am merely a humble servant. Everything is already in motion. The angel will arrive soon!"

"Sure... and will this angel bring the tooth fairy and santa with him?" Dante laughed. He was ready to believe a lot but angels? All angel like beings he met were demons in disguise. He was pretty sure there was no such place as heaven.

"You may mock us now, but the enemy of your demonic kind, will bring forth your end!"

Bang!

For a second time Dante fired his gun, missing the priest face only by a few inches, leaving him shocked behind. Whatever they're planning, Dante knew now that this was not something, he could just label as pure nonsense. Fanatics were dangerous and whatever this supposed angel that promised them salvation, was; it was alarming.

 August 1st 12:50 pm

"Normally I am all for beef jerky but damn you look already rotten!" Nero mocked the demon bull as he was ready to beat it to minced meat. "Hey V, you're ready again?"

"Yes, this won't take long." V answered while summoning Griffon.

"Yo V, do I look like a vulture to you? Picking apart the rotten ain't my style!" Griffon cawed as the gracefully landed on his masters outstretched arm.

"How dare you making fun of the great Gulganna!" And with that, the bull charged towards Nero and V. You, however, couldn't see what was going on around you and so you thought that it was for the best to simply move away from all the voices. Nevertheless, Gulgannas attacks were easily avoided by the two demon hunters. Griffon just took V by his claws and lifted him out of the charge attack, while Nero used his coattend to wave it around like a matador.

"Olé! Come on cow, here I am!" he teased his opponent. Gulganna looked impressive but was clearly not the smartest and easy to enrage. This meant also he was less good at focusing on more than one person at a time.

Once you heard that V landed not far away, you turned to his direction and asked: "Sir V? While this moment might not be ideal, I only wish to be of some genuine assistance! Please, I beg of thee, remove this mask for I cannot by myself!"

"Yo missy, you think we got time for that now?!" Griffon answered for his partner. The very same moment Gulganna faced their way and spit a yellow-green secretion in your and V's direction, missing both of you only by a few feet. The fluid landed on one of the many angel statures that decorated the inner courtyard, just to melt it away.

"Okay that's just gross!" was Nero shouting from a far as he shot Gulganna in one half of his splitten face.

"We better get that woman out of that mask before she gets hit! Griffon, in the meantime, make that demon bleed!"

"Yes, yes, Griffon do this, Griffon do that. What am I, a carrier pigeon?" the flying demon companion complained as he was sending flashes down onto the bull. V used time, provided by the distraction, to examine your iron masked. "You better not making us regret getting you out of this!"

"Thou art my savior, if mine power be need'st, I shall assist thee! Hereby I promise, I will repay this small kindness!"

"No need just find a place to hide for now." soon after he spoke those words, your mask fell on the floor, revealing a face that was hidden for such a long time. V couldn't help himself but stare. Your eyes were gentle and warm, your lips full and red. V couldn't deny that you were indeed a beauty.

As for you, it was the first time in years for you, to see something else than darkness. After it took a moment to accustom your eyes to the sunlight, you let your sight swiftly go through the place, to grasp the situation. Your gaze came to a stop, as you met eyes with the man who just helped you. He clearly was attractive. Black hair, wonderful green eyes, strange markings on his body. After a few seconds of intensive eye contact the noise of the fight behind, brought both of you back to the current situation. There was no time for that now, after all, there was still a demon spitting his acid saliva in every direction.

"My most humble thanks. Thou shalt not go unrewarded!" slowly you stood up, carefully making your way to a nearby puddle of acid.  With precision you dipped your shackles in the liquid, freeing yourself out of the confinement. V decided to keep an eye on your movement, not sure if he could trust you or not. Regardless, the situation wasn’t one where they should refuse any help. He couldn't keep Griffon up for long and while Nero was certainly capable of dealing with that demon on his own, due to the many puddles of acid on the floor, the courtyard became a much more limited space for them to move in.

"You BSE infected cow! How about you stop vomiting all over the floor, that smell starts making me sick!" Nero shouted annoyed as he rammed his Red Queen in the mouthlike crack on its head, just to get showered by an incoming burp. However, Nero was a quick witted one and turned to his devil form in the last second, avoiding becoming meat soup on the ground.

"Fuck, that shit is just gross!" Nero cursed and was laughed at from above by Griffon: "Can't say I smell a difference!"

"Just shut up, bird! And you, you fat cow, now you've done it! Playtime is over!"

Soon after Nero cursed at Gulganna, it began to charge at him again. Yet was unable to corner him as he was much more agile in his demon form. The demon’s life would soon come to an end, as Griffon attacked him with his thunderbolts from the side, Nero punched his front into bloody pieces and a few beams of light came from the sky piecing through the demon bull’s body. The last attack came from you, who was standing behind Gulganna with your right hand outstretched to the sky as if you were commanding the heaven itself.

"For thee, no mercy shall be shown." you told the demon in a gentle voice. A dying Gulganna now lying on the ground cries out to you: "You, you are the one! The master will get you!"

"Is it so? My apologies, oh great demon bull Gulganna but we must part now. Thou shalt not go unpunished!" And as you voiced these last words to him, you reached your hand inside of its chest, ripping out something buried beneath its flesh.

#devil may cry #DMC #dmc5 #DMC V #dmc vitale #V x Reader #V #Vitale #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #chapter 3

[chibitabathawrites]

Fictober 2019 - Day 02

Fandom: Rhett & Link

Pairing: Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal

Warnings: Mentions a liquor store

Rating: T

Prompt: “Just follow me, I know the area.”

Moving to a new place is always hard. Away from friends and family. But it's time for college life, to live and let live and experience a drop of adulthood before being thrust into the absurdity and loneliness of true adulthood. Orientation on campus was alright, the whole college and dorms all right there. A grocery store, liquor store and pharmacy all right there across from the dorms, pretty much. No wonder the top floor was considered the "party floor" with such establishments so close. "New year, new place, new me," he looked at himself in the bathroom mirror before heading out the door. His classes were mostly in the B building, the building most notorious for being designed by a prison architect. But how bad could it honestly be? He gave himself an hour and a half extra time. There was a place he wanted to stop at first. Adjusting his backpack on his shoulder, he crossed the street into the newest building. The Student Commons, it was bustling with activity, new students clamouring to meet their friends, the school Starbucks jam-packed with kids willing to pay for the overpriced coffee. Link paid them no mind as he weaved through the crowds. He wasn't from here, didn't have anyone to meet, no point in slowing down on day one. He made his way past a Booster Juice, this line filled with what Link pegged as the 'mature' students or 'returning' students. They had eyes that looked both tired and excited. This wasn't their first rodeo by a long shot. Just near the smoothie place was a room with glass windows and an hour of operation sign. Just behind the windowpane sat a decorated wedding cake, images of students and teachers wearing chef's whites. Peering past the display he could see loaves of bread along the wall near a refrigerated display case. "This is Savoir Fare! The food here is made by the culinary and baking students! It's real affordable!" a friendly woman wearing a black apron called to him from the other side of the open door. "Thank you! I'll come back later!" he called with a wave. The woman flashed him a smile and waved back as he began to move on. From what he remembered from the tour he had taken just the week before, he was passing the school store and the main cafeteria. Both seemed jam packed with more students then he could possibly imagine. A simple boy from a small southern county, south of the border, this was bordering on too much now. He pushed past, tracing his steps from the guided tour. Following the hall past the "Observatory" the restaurant slash campus bar he made a left turn at the 'Four Corners'. At least a lot of the landmarks were recognizable enough. Instead of following the path up the stairs towards the library, he passed by them, following the shape of the courtyard framed by four of the school's buildings. A few students were out in the grass, milling about and chatting with each other with bright smiles. Link smiled, he was going to be like those students soon enough. Having a good time. Having friends just like him. At the end of the hall, Link could see the rainbow striped pillar. It made his heart race as he slowly made his way down the dim hall towards the B building, and towards his first destination. The whole pillar was painted in a rainbow spiralling up, an arrow painted along the wall nearest the ceiling, pointing out the school's 'Pride Center'. Link looked down the short hallway and could hear laughter and chatter from an open door spilling light into the hall. Link shifted his bag again before walking towards the open door. Peering into the small room, he could see only six people in the room. The person behind the desk across from the door piped up, "Hello! Welcome!" They smiled at him before adjusting their own pair of glasses. Link raised his hand nervously, "Hey..." he trailed off into the room. Four of the other occupants seemed to be in deep conversation, paying him no mind. The fifth however, waved at him with a small smile of his own. Sliding up to the desk, he eyed one of the event leaflets on the top of the desk. The person behind the desk smiled up at him, "Hi, I'm Vick, the program coordinator here at the Pride Center. We have tons of resources here if you need them along with some fun events scheduled for later today too." "Thank you," Link murmured before taking one of the leaflets and sliding it into his pocket. "Of course! It's an open space, so go ahead and make yourself comfortable," Vick smiled up at him with a gentle smile. Link looked at the two couches and then to the table filled with coloring pencils, markers and blank sheets. He sat at the table, placing his bag by his feet. The boy who waved at him was also at the table, coloring in a picture of Sleepy Bear from the Care Bears. "Hey," the blond murmured as, link shifted through some of the sheets. "Hi," Link smiled at the blond. The blond who was incredibly Link's type and super hot. "Why don't we all introduce ourselves since we have a few new folks here?" Vick rolled their chair towards the group. "Okay!" one girl with dyed pink hair smiled. "So why don't we say our names, pronouns, and since it's the start of the year, what program you're taking?" Vick smiled and the group nodded. "I'll go first. Hi, i'm Vick. I use they/them pronouns, and I'm the program coordinator here." Vick motioned to the girl with pink hair sitting closest to them. "Hey, I'm Q, I use she/her pronouns, and I'm taking Interior Design," the pink haired girl beamed. "Q? Cool name," Vick smiled at the girl before motioning to the brunette beside her. "'Sup, I'm Georgie. She/her too. I'm taking Horticulture Industries." The third person on the couch piped up, "I'm Matt, he/him, I'm in my second year of Baking and Pastry Arts Management." "Yo, I'm Bobbie, they/them, taking Early Childhood Education." The hot blond looked at the others around the room before smiling, ""M Rhett, he/him, I'm here for Music Industry Arts." Link swallowed, "Hey, I'm Link. He/him. I'm here for Business Administration." Everyone seemed to go back to what they were doing, and Link pulled out his phone to check the time. He still had a bit of time before he had to find his classroom. "Where are your classes, Link?" Rhett smiled at him and it made his heart jam up in his throat. "A lot of them are here in the B building, but I'm nervous about finding them all," he shrugged his shoulders slightly. Rhett beamed, "I can help you find them." "I don't want to impose or anything," Link was quick to try and brush the offer for help off. "C'mon, let's see your schedule," Rhett laughed quietly before tapping his foot against the leg of Link's chair. "Alright, here," Link pulled a folded piece of paper out of his hoodie pocket. "Oh, one of them is just around the corner from here. Let's go now so I can show them all to you," Rhett pushed away from the table. "Ah, wait up," Link scrambled to follow the much taller boy. Holy, Link thought he was tall but his guy made him feel short. "Just follow me, I know the area." Rhett thought a moment before adding, "Like the back of my palm," with a laugh before darting out the door. Link blinked rapidly before chasing after the tall boy down the hall. "Wait up!"

#fictober19 #rhink fic #college au #tw: liquor store mentioned #meet cute

[for-the-dales]

Chapter 2: Josephine

Chapter 1 (Leliana):  https://for-the-dales.tumblr.com/post/185692342364/the-path-forward-chapter-1-leliana

           Josephine didn’t cry until she saw the burst of magic miles away fling itself up into the monstrous green vortex in the sky. She saw it calm, but remain stubbornly where it was.

        Then Josephine wept.  

        The weeks before the conclave had been a flurry of activity. Making sure that two sides of a continent wide war didn’t kill each other before the peace talks even begin was a difficult task. Josephine had reveled in it.  She did not believe in false modesty, and so she had no problem admitting that she was one of the best at what she did. It was, after all, why Leliana had brought her on. And yet, looking up at the Breach in the sky, Josephine felt useless. Leliana was out there fighting while Josephine was here, standing around and picking at a loose thread on her sleeve. She pulled a little too hard and a perfectly placed ruffle fell flat.

           No. Josephine would not depreciate herself. She looked around the courtyard and forced her to witness what was happening around her. Soldiers lay on pallets in neat rows where they were being treated by the surviving Chantry Sisters. No Revered Mothers. They had all been at the temple. There was not a single Sister present that looked older than Josephine. Some of them had put on a determined face and gritted their teeth. Most looked as terrified as the soldiers they were treating. Many of the soldiers were screaming, some were praying, too many had fallen ominously silent. The silent ones looked more like monsters from the Breach than men, their skin blackened from burns, and Josephine doubted their mothers would be able to recognize them. This would make the funerals that much more difficult.

           Suddenly Josephine had an idea, a way to be useful. She scanned the people running around her until she found a woman who looked like an officer and wasn’t bleeding out.  Josephine rushed over.

           “Madam, may I bother you for a moment?”

           The woman attempted to stand at attention but almost doubled over. Josephine quickly took hold of the woman’s arm and helped her sit back down. The woman nodded at her gratefully and asked, “What can I help you with ambassador Montilyet?”

           “Do you know if there are lists of soldiers who were serving at the conclave?”

           The woman thought for a moment and replied, “I believe Commander Cullen had a list. It may still be in his quarters. May I ask why you need it Ambassador? Can I be of any assistance?”

           “Do not concern yourself. You have already served bravely. Rest now. Thank you so much.”

           “Of course my Lady.”

           The officer placed her fist over her heart in salute and Josephine strode down the steps towards where Cullen had pitched his tent. The man had refused to sleep in the chantry while his soldiers had to sleep outside.

          No one paid much attention to Josephine on her way. Too consumed with their own panic and grief. Josephine slipped into the commander’s tent and immediately walked over to the small desk.

          A shiver ran down Josephine’s spine as she realized she may well be poking through a dead friends desk. No one had heard from the commander as of yet, he had led a charge towards the Breach.

          She riffled through the papers on his desk only scanning the documents for what she needed. Finally she found a bound stack of papers in a drawer that had names on it as well as ages and where the soldiers came from. She took the papers and quickly returned to the main triage area in front of the chantry. There she began walking around to the conscious soldiers that had already been treated and began asking for names and checking them off. Some of the soldiers knew who was dead and Josephine place a small “x” next to those names. Too many were not yet twenty years of age.

           Suddenly there was a commotion outside the gates. Soldiers burst into the area, screaming for bystanders to make room. Josephine’s heart seized in her chest. With strength born of desperation and fear she pushed her way through the crowd of soldiers until she saw who she was looking for. Leliana strode calm and imposing, ordering people around her to make ready for more injured. Josephine couldn’t truly hear what she was saying over the thundering of her heartbeat in her ears. Leliana was alright. Josephine took a single selfish moment to revel in the fact that her dearest friend had survived the horror. She could see the little tells on Leliana’s face that she was drained, but she was still walking and breathing and in control. She was okay. Josephine almost cried on the spot, but then she saw Cassandra marching in behind Leliana, carrying the prisoner. The woman’s dark skin was ashen now, and were it not for the terrifyingly slight movement in her chest, Josephine would have thought her dead. Much of her dark curly hair had come loose from its intricate braid. Purple bruises were already beginning to show on her face; particularly around her left eye that Josephine could now see was swollen shut. The elven apostate that had arrived earlier was walking close to the Seeker with his lightly glowing hands hovering over the prisoner’s head.

           Leliana’s calm voice broke through the panic, “Josie. Is there a private area we can place her?”

           Everything rushed back into focus as Josephine turned to face Leliana, “Yes, follow me.” Josephine led the group to a small hut that had an empty bed in it. Cassandra laid the prisoner in the bed and the apostate’s hands never wavered from their position above the woman. Leliana walked through the door with a box laden with medical supplies. She set it down and turned to Josephine, “Please go get Adan.”

           Josephine turned on the spot and rushed out the door back into the chaos outside. She stepped onto a box and scanned the hectic crowd. Whatever happened at the temple had caused many of the soldiers left in the valley to return to Haven. The population had more than doubled. Josephine finally spied the apothecary tending to a badly injured boy. Josephine felt her stomach twist, but she forced it down and rushed towards the man.

           “Master Adan. You’re services are desperately needed to tend to the prisoner.”

           The man looked up from the boy and regarded Josephine with disdain, “All due respect Ambassador, but my services are more needed here. If this boy doesn’t get surgery he could very well die.”

           Josephine looked down at the young boy. Andraste’s mercy he couldn’t be more than 15. He wore the flimsiest of armor and his shoes were worn and a little too big for him. He had likely lied about his age to join the Divine’s army. Josephine forced herself to imagine the faces of his mother and father, of his possible siblings, all waiting for him to come home. Josephine also remembered the urgency and slight fear on Leliana’s face when she told her to get Adan. She thought of the way Cassandra’s eyes flitted around when she first returned to haven with the limp prisoner. The creased brow and a slight frown on the apostates face while his hands tried to mend the prisoner, he had been sweating from effort. Then she swallowed the bile in her throat, turned to the apothecary and said with a tight voice, “Master Adan, your services are more needed with the prisoner.”

           The man stared at her for a moment, the anger evident on his face.

           “He is a child.”

           “Your services,” Josephine’s voice cracked slightly, “are more needed with the prisoner.”

           The man glared at her but stood, “Fine.”

           He looked around until he spotted a sister walking by with a basin of dirty water. He shouted, “You there! See to this boy! A claw nicked an artery. He is losing blood quickly and the wound is most certainly infected.”

           The sister looked a little panicked but rushed over. Adan turned back to Josephine and said, “Take me to her.”

           Josephine turned on her heel and didn’t look back to see if Adan was following. If she did she would also see the boy she had almost certainly just condemned. She held back tears. That would have to wait until later. She had to be strong right now, like Leliana. When they reached the hut Adan brushed past her and into the building without a word. Josephine didn’t follow. Leliana emerged a few moments later. Leliana took one look at Josephine and grabbed her hand, leading her to a secluded nook before hugging her tightly.

           “It’s okay, there’s nothing more we can do right now.”

          Josephine began to cry again. She wept and wept and wept into her friend's shoulder. She clutched her like if she let go she would fall apart.

           “He was treating a little boy,” Josephine hiccupped, “He’s going to die now, if he’s not already dead.”

           “That isn’t your fault Josie.”

           “But I told Adan to come treat the prisoner-“

           “After I told you to. If a sin has been committed here it has been committed by me. Not you.”

           “But-”

           “Her name is Ellana Lavellan. She didn’t cause the explosion, but she did almost die trying to close the breach. She was not forced to do so. She volunteered. She is kind and brave. She stopped on the way to the temple so she could save some scouts. She chose that path instead of a charge, which would have been safer for her, because she couldn’t abandon those soldiers to die. Adan is saving a good person. It is unfortunate that we only have one of him, so he can only save so many good people, and not all of them. Do you hear me Josie?

           Josephine sniffed and nodded.

           “I would like to write to the boys family.”

           “We will write to all the families.”

           Josephine nodded again and leaned back into the hug. She didn’t know how long she stayed there in the arms of her closest friend. Finally she pulled away and wiped her eyes. She smoothed the fabric of her blouse, straightened her posture, and tried to regain her composure.

           “The woman, Ellana, I saw she had facial tattoos. Is she Dalish?”

           Leliana nodded, “Yes, and a mage. She’s young, so likely she is the First of her Clan.”

           “First to do what?”

           Leliana chuckled, “No, she is the First. It’s what the Dalish call the chief apprentice to their keeper. The mage who leads a clan. Also the tattoos are called vallaslin, it means blood writing. It’s religious in nature and denotes which of their gods they dedicated themselves to upon reaching maturity.”

           With something else to think about now, Josephine began to calm, “Ah, it seems I have some studying to do then before she wakes up. I do not wish to offend her.”

           “I suspect she won’t wake today. I’ll tell you what I know after supper. I also have a book by Brother Genitivi that may be useful. Pretty much anything else you would read is hateful propaganda.”

           “Thank you. She will be staying then?”

           “We believe she is likely the only one who can seal rifts, and this is far from over, so yes.”

           “I see.” Josephine thought for a moment before realizing, “Oh, I should also try to contact her Clan, let them know she’s alright. If she occupies an important position they must be worried.”

           “They would be worried regardless, the Dalish are small in number so every member of a Clan is important. Contacting them may be difficult however, if her Clan doesn’t wish to be found they won’t be.”

           Josephine deflated, “Oh. I really do need your lessons it seems.”

           Leliana placed a hand on Josephine’s shoulder and gave her a crooked smile, “Don’t worry, I’ll have you speaking elvish by the time she wakes up.”

           Josephine chuckled and allowed Leliana to lead her back into the fray. That would be tonight. Now there was work to do.

Chapter 3:https://for-the-dales.tumblr.com/post/186595614949/chapter-3-cullen

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #dragon age fanfiction #dragon age inquisition fanfiction #fanfiction #dai #Inquisitor Lavellan #lavellan #dalish #Josephine #chapter 2 #Geez #i hope you guys like this #also please tell me if you like it #i need validation

[sweettoothshipperrotg]

okay I know I said last one but,,,,,, i couldn’t help myself- SO how about Superhero AU? With FrostedNature? (loveuthankubye)

Oh you and your promises of not sending more prompts. LIKE.YOU.COULD.HOLD.OUT (don’t you worry baby it’s fine, your prompts always make me happy :3)

Sorry this took so long, but I’ve finlly completed it.

Based on: ‘You’re my arch nemesis but our best friends are dating…I guess I’ll play nice in civvies, for now’ AU

Hope you enjoy!

SECRET IDENTITITES, MY FOOT

Jackson Overland Frost couldn’t believe his eyes when Bunnymund introduced his girlfriend’s best friend.

This was supposed to be a nice evening. He had cleared up his schedule specifically for tonight (if he kept on canceling every time something “came up”, Bunny would probably have strangled him) and was more than ready to enjoy his first free night in three years.

Luckily, he had been spared his friend’s backlash since Tooth’s friend also had to unexpectedly rain check their outing several times.

It wasn’t like Jack didn’t like the idea of his friend now being engaged (albeit, it had shaken him a little). Toothiana was a lovely woman, a bubbly behavior that balanced Bunny´s down to earth personality. The aussie had never been in such a long relationship before, but on the four year mark he decided to pop the question.

Jack, as the newly designated best man, was having a hard time handling his responsibilities for his friend’s wedding, his job at North’s store, and his “extracurricular activities”.

The couple had declared that their two friends had to meet in order for their nuptials to smoothly continue.

Toothiana had told him a little about the future bridesmaid. Emily Jane was a no-nonsense successful botanic researcher who Tooth had met at college and become friends with.

To anyone else such a friendship would have seemed rather odd, but considering that he had and Bunny had become friends when the blue-eyed boy was getting his ass handed to him during a bar fight, he understood. His opponent had managed to throw him over the table when Jack had tried to be a knight in shining armor and save one of his friends from a rather insistent ex-boyfriend. Aster had knocked the douchebag with a mean right hook and helped Jack up from the floor.

They had been besties ever since.

Now he was at a fancy restaurant in a five-star hotel, surrounded by his two friends and sitting in front of a stunning woman in a black dress who was sending intense glances his way.

Not in the sexy sense, more like “I want to murder you with this very steak knife I have in my hand” kinda way.

Although his presence had never warranted such a reaction from anyone he had met, there was a little problem.

He knew this woman.

And judging by the recognition in her eyes when they shook hands for the first time, she knew him as well.

Despite his best effort to keep his night job and his personal life separate, it seems it had come back to bite him.

The woes that betides a superhero.

Yes, he had superpowers. And yes he spent most of his free time as a vigilante making the streets of Burgess City a little safer to tread.

By now, Jack Frost had become more than just a fable among people.

It had been quite a decision when his ice powers manifested for the same time after his close call with death at the local pond he used to skate at with his little sister.

He remembered the cold and the dark water that surrounded him. He can even recall his sister screaming out his name from the surface. But then he woke up in a hospital bed after being unconscious for days and with his mother and sister asleep by his bedside.

His powers took two weeks to show themselves.

A glisten and a flurry of ice shot out of his hand into the tree next to him and covered it with an intricate and budding frost pattern. And the rest was history.

Had it not been for the present tense atmosphere, he would have chuckled at his memory of his first years as a superhero, running around with a mask and in an old blue hoodie. What a reckless kid he had been.

Thankfully his current supersuit was now more outfitted for combat and to handle his powers. North had been very helpful after Jack had busted into his shop to stop a large robbery.

And yes, of course North knew of his double life (the ex Russian scientist was his go to tech guy, after all). A superhero couldn’t keep down a stable job as easily as the comics made it look, and he had rent to pay.

In his many comings and goings he had faced many different foes: the low life criminals that preyed on the streets, the low level grunts of the mafia families, even a few corrupt leaders of the crime syndicates that sat atop of the city.

But none had been such a challenge like his arch nemesis. Persephone.With such a taste for dramatics, no wonder the universe had decided to search for someone to meet her match.

Her phytokinetic powers had him gawking at her when they first met at a bank robbery – that she orchestrated!

With a graceful swoop she and her plants had descended upon him and confronted him in one of the most engaging combats he had had in ages.

He was quick and nimble, but her defense and her strikes knocked the wind out of him.

Luckily, he had entertained her enough for the police back up to arrive.

She had left him fighting off thorny vines and unable to follow her and end the dance they had started.

Jack Frost had encountered the mysterious woman several other times.

She seemed to dabble in several types of crimes, but was quite adept to burglary. The high-class type. Although those pompous fishes could do with having a little less money, the upper class victims were outraged at the inability of the police to catch the masked villainess.

The mystery that was Persephone had kept him awake many nights. Unfortunately, it wasn’t all from a sleuth-related nature.

Her sly smile was ever present when he closed his eyes, so was her taught yet lithe body he had felt during close quarters combat and her alluring and taunting voice.

In other words, his imagination was playing against him. And he was losing, part of him wanted to put her behind bars so he would stop thinking of her so damn much.In another universe, these two characters would have never recognized the other; oblivious of their double life until some convoluted hand of destiny revealed their identities at a more inconvenient time.

But it seemed that fate had other plans.

His mind was brought back from his machinations all of a sudden.

“I’m sorry, I have to take this call.” Emily’s voice apologized profusely to her friend. “I’ll be right back. I promise.”

She sauntered out of view, almost as if she knew that his eyes would follow her.

“I…uh…I gotta use the restroom” He spluttered and excused himself away from the couple.

Jack passed the restrooms, and made his way to the open courtyard the hotel had.It looked quite pretty with the lights that illuminated the ornate fountain.

She was there, with her back to him and appearing to admire the abundant yet harmonic greenery that surrounded them.

Oh how freaking convenient.

He approached, carefully as you would to a deadly animal. The frost was starting to surge on his palm but yet he didn’t attack. The place was secluded but not enough for a full on battle to go unnoticed.

“Of all the places in this city, I find you here.” She still did not turn to face him. “How odd, isn’t it?”

Jack didn’t answer, sizing her up. He felt relief that she hadn’t take the steak knife with her, but that feeling burst when he realized she was far more deadly without it.

“And here I was planning such a show for when we met again.” Persephone said in her usual tone; the type of confident voice that came from always holding all the cards.

“Eager to see me, sweetheart?” The word escaped his mouth before he could help it.

They had slipped into well-known roles; their war of wits just as accelerating to him as their physical warfare.

“Flirt all you want, Frost.” Her head turned to glance at him, a smirk blooming in her lips. “But you’re not handing me over to the police just yet.”

The plants around them swooshed, but not because of the wind.

“Really?” Jack clenched his jaw, his muscles tensing. “And why is that?”

She now fully turned around and stepped forward, but he held his ground.

“Because you wouldn’t want to break your dear friend’s heart, would you?”

That sent a rush of fear through his blood. Instantly, a sharp spike of ice was forming onto his hand and was inches away from her neck. She didn’t even flinch. “If you dare harm Bunny or Tooth-”

“Spare me the theatrics, Frost.” She said calmly, as if she didn’t have an ice blade to her neck ready to run her through. “I’m not going to hurt any of them.”

Ok, that had him baffled.

“What?”

“I happen to truly care for Toothiana, and I even like Bunnymund enough to entrust him the safety and happiness of the only true friend I’ve ever had.” She firmly explained in all seriousness. “I would walk through burning coals for her and make anyone who hurts her wish they were dead.”

“What I meant to say is that we happen to be their best man and bridesmaid, quite crucial to their wedding if memory serves me right.” Emily continued to explain. “And I think it would put a damper on their wedding if I were to get rid of you or, in the most unlikely case, for you to send me to prison. That’s why I’ve decided we should reach a compromise.”

“What exactly did you have in mind?”

“A truce.” She replied with a confident smile. “I don’t go around on my nightly activities and you don’t try to throw me in jail while our friends are planning their wedding. Heck, we might have to work together to make it happen so it would be useful to not be at each other’s throats.”

Jack Frost had not expected this at all. Was she truly going to just play nice with him until their friends were married?

It felt like he was missing something. Once more, she had pulled the rug from under his feet.

Jack shook his head to clear out the fog, as the wheels spun inside his head. “How can I trust Burgess City’s top criminal to keep her word?”

“I guess it’s all about a leap of faith” She stepped closer and gently placed a hand on his chest, the ice dagger now pressing firmly against her skin but she paid it no mind since she was finding him far more interesting. The conflict that battled within those blue eyes of his was positively delicious, and so was his accelerated heartbeat. “Aren’t you heroes all about that, anyways?”

Silence stretched over them, both enemies sizing each other up for the others next move. But, in the end, it was him who spoke.

To be honest, he was probably making the biggest mistake of his life.

“Fine.” He warily acquiesced. “We play nice until Bunny and Tooth get married, but if I find out that you’re at it again then the deal is off.”

“Sounds good to me” She grinned, trying to suppress the mix of anticipation and adrenaline that had her self-control in such shaky grounds. “Now would you kindly put the icicle away? I need to get back to our table before Tooth gets worried.”

The spike vanished, and he retreated back so her influence would stop messing with his head.

She made her way out of the garden, but turned around to end their encounter with one last warning. “Don’t worry, once we cart them off to their honeymoon we can go back to destroying each other like always”

He didn’t grace her with an answer as the sharp click of her stilettos faded away in the distance.

Jack combed a hand through his hair and sighed.

There were definitely going to be some interesting months ahead of him.

TADA! Hope you liked it.

If you feel like sending asks, don´t hesitate to do so (it might take time but I’ll eventually get there, I promise!)

#emily jane pitchiner #Jack Frost #frosted nature #rise of the guardians #ROTG #jackfrostxemilyjanepitchiner #guardians of childhood #GoC

[dentonindenmark]

Update!! 6 months!

So this update is very late and needed! I have been very busy seeing my exchange friends as over the past month my oldies have been going home. A lot has happened recently but the biggest would be Eurotour. 

Eurotour was 18 of the best days of my life. I’m not going to cover every aspect of it because this post would be very long, however, you can have some of my favorite memories.  We began the trip on the 18th of May and we drove to Berlin. After a few stops picking up the last few exchange students and getting lunch, we finally made it to Berlin. Everyone was very excited and ready to get to the hostel. By the time we had got our rooms sorted, we were taken to dinner in a restaurant that was decorated in a very old typical German way with wooden ceilings and wooden furniture and animal heads hung on the walls. For dinner, we had chicken and some potatoes and a strange salad. After dinner, we were given free time to walk around and explore the city. A group of us headed to visit a park that some of the boys wanted to go to. By the time we had been there had a look around, gotten a few photos it was time to walk back to the hostel. We spent the next day seeing the Berlin wall, which was absolutely beautiful and a memorial to the Jews. We then had free time to go explore the city for ourselves. Later our councilors surprised us with a trip up the Berlin T.V tower. The tower is 250m tall and we went to the top. At the top, you have a 360º view of Berlin. Afterward, we had more free time which we spent exploring the city again. 

The next day we drove to Czech where we stopped and looked in a concentration camp. It was a very strange experience but it was very good to hear about what happened there and the type of prisoners they had. this camp held a lot of political prisoners of war as well as Jewish. from the camp tour we continued our drive to our hotel which was just outside of Prague. The hotel was huge and consisted of two main areas, one where the rooms were and another which held activities and the dining area. We stayed for two nights in this hotel and spent a day exploring Prague. We visited the Old Castle which was a beautiful huge Gothic-style building. After spending an hour there to walk around, see the view and take some photos (unfortunately the line was way too long to get into the castle so we didn’t go inside) we headed down to the see more of the city. It was so beautiful and full of life and many small streets and gorgeous buildings. We spent a few hours exploring different sections of the city and then spent some time relaxing before meeting with the group again.

Over the next day, we drove to Vienna. We didn’t do anything else that day apart from having a small look around and eating dinner. The next day we spent driving around Vienna seeing the beautiful buildings and making a few stops to see the Schönbrunn Palace and the Hundertwasserhus. The Hundertwasserhus was a unique building that looked like it had been patchworked together because it was so miss-matched however it was absolutely gorgeous. The Schönbrunn Palace was still as magnificent as I had thought when we visited in 2016 and we explored some parts of the garden that I hadn’t seen at the last visit. From here we went and ate lunch. Alanna, Zara, Emily and I had some pasta and afterwards, I met up with Agnes. We went and had a coffee and talked and caught each other up about what we were doing and how our families were. It was really great to see her again. We were together for a few hours before she helped me find Alanna and Zara. Once I had said goodbye to Agnes we had more free time to just look around the section of the city near our hostel and shop. 

Next, it was onto Lido di Jesolo. We drove over the border of Austria and Italy and the view was just amazing. The mountains were stunning and very picturesque. The drive was long and we got to Lido di Jesolo in the evening. We found our rooms (we were very lucky getting a room on the top floor) and then decided to go to the beach. It was really nice to go to a beach again that wasn’t super muddy or super rocky. We spent a few hours there before heading back to the hotel and turning in for the night. The next day we went to Venice! We drove over to where we would catch the ferry to Venice. Once we had arrived in Venice we had a small tour and then our guides and councilors surprised us with Gondal rides. The rides lasted about half an hour but they were beautiful. Venice was so amazing and being able to see part of it from the small trip on the canals was truly special. Once our Gondola ride was over we had free time to explore the city. First, we went and bought huge ice-creams in waffle which were really delicious. We also bought some fresh fruit and found a small street with steps at the end that we sat on and were able to enjoy the sun, not have tourists crowding it and just enjoy the canals. From there we went and had a look at some souvenir shops and more of the small streets and buildings. Eventually, we found our way back to our meeting place and met up with the others and then we headed back to the hostel. Once we were back at the hotel and had had dinner we went down to the beach for the rest of the evening. That night Alanna, Zara, Emily and I decided to sleep on our balcony because it was a beautiful night and we had the top floor and a huge balcony. Surprisingly our sleep wasn’t that bad however we were awoken by church bells that rang for about 20 minutes. That day was reserved for us all to spend it at the beach. So after breakfast, we headed down and set up for the day. We spent the day lying in the sun and swimming. For lunch we had pizza and it was delicious! I think we ate about one pizza each. That evening we went and did karaoke at a restaurant near the hotel. It was a lot of fun. 

Day 10 we drove through Italy stopping in Verona, which is famously known for Romeo and Juliet. We saw the Arena in Verona which was great although it was under construction so there was a lot of fences and building supplies sitting near. We were also taken to Juliet's balcony which was in a small courtyard and was very sweet. We then had two hours free time in which we went and had lunch, (pasta that was so delicious), and saw a little more of the town. Then it was time to continue driving to our hotel for the night. 

The next day we continued driving to reach Avignon. We drove through the Alps which were magnificent and truly mesmerizing. Our day stop was in Nice which is such a beautiful city. Here we were given free time to see the city and possibly go swimming if we wanted. First, we headed up to the Castle Hill to see the view from the top. It was so beautiful seeing how vibrant blue the ocean was and how full of life it made the city seem. From here we headed down to get lunch and sit on the beach. We lost track of how long we were lying on the beach because we all fell asleep slightly because the sun was so warm and the ocean sound was very calming. When we all decided it would be best for us to get up we went for a small walk around and found some macarons to try. They were very delicious. I bought an ice-cream macaron and a normal one. The ice-cream macaron was a giant macaron with ice-cream as the filling. By the time we had finished here and had seen a little more of the city, it was time to continue our drive to Avignon. 

Day 12 we were taken to Pont Du Gard which is an old Roman aqua bridge. We walked down across the bridge and down to the river which runs underneath it. We went swimming down part of the river and, although the water was very cold, it was very refreshing and nice. We only had half an hour before we had to head to the bus for a picnic lunch. From there we headed back to the town of Avignon to see the city. Inside the city is the Palace of the popes which was huge and sat just higher than the rest of the city. Here we were given free time so I went into the Cathedral next to the Palace with Sofia, Regina, and Marianna. Sofia and I then went together to see some of the city and found a very cute merry-go-round which we went on. Soon we meet up with a few of the others and walked back to our hostel where a few of us went in the pool. 

Now it was time to go to Paris! We spent the day driving, only stopping for lunch. Once we had made it to our hotel and had our rooms sorted we went to go on a river tour around Paris. The boat tour took us around to see a few of the attractions such as what was left of the Notre Dame, and of course the Eiffel tower. The tour was really nice and due to the time of day (evening), it was very beautiful. Once the tour was over it was time to head back to the hostel. The next day we went to the Louvre Museum. We spent two hours there walking around. Firstly, of course, we went and saw the Mona Lisa. Us exchange students took over and pushed our way to the front to get some good photos. From there we went to another part of the museum and Alanna, Owen and I got separated from the other group so we just went off looking at other parts. Zara was unfortunately very sick so she stayed at the hotel. Alanna, Owen and I walked around looking at the paintings.  We spent two hours there and then went to meet up with the rest of the exchange students. From here we went to the Eiffel tower and were given free time. We went to get lunch, first, we had Chipotle and then we got a savory crepe (I had ham and cheese) and it was delicious! Next, we went back to the group and were given the opportunity to go see the Square Nadar. It was quite warm so we went and got some cold drinks and then begun our walk to the top. Once we got there we had a look down some of the streets and got ice cream. Soon it was time to go back to the Eiffel tower. There we waited to go up but we had problems with the tickets so unfortunately, we didn’t get to go up the tower. However, we went and found a nice patch on the grass and watched the light show. We then walked back to the hotel, so that we could get enough sleep for the next day. The next day it was time for Disney Land! Whilst we waited for our councilors to get our tickets we went and had lunch at a sandwich place inside the Disney park. fro there we went and got our tickets and went inside. Alanna, Emily, Jom and I went on Space Mountain as soon as we got it. We had to leave Zara out in some shade because she was very sick, she ended up going back to the hotel. After Space Mountain and deciding what we were going to do (Emily went back with Zara) Alanna and I went on to the next rides. We spent a while in lines and going on rides whilst also seeing the park. Eventually, we found some others and walked around with them. After a while, in Disneyland Park, we went over to look at the Studio park. Alanna and I went on two rides, the Aerosmith rollercoaster and the Tower of Terror. Both were really great although I think the tower of terror would’ve been better if we could understand what it was saying. By this time we were pretty exhausted and headed back to Disneyland park and met with the others. By this time everyone was super tired and we went back to the hotel.  

From Paris, it was onto Holland. To get there we went through Belgium, stopping in Brussels for a few hours. In Brussels, our main sight to see was Manneken Pis. This is a tiny little statue of a naked little boy peeing. One story behind the legend of it is that a fathers son went missing and the father found him peeing on the street corner and so in gratefulness of finding his son decided to build a statue on the corner he was found. Of course, there are several other stories behind it but this was the one we were told. After a few hours of free time, we then had to continue our trip to the Nederlands and get to our hotel in Doorwerth. 

Our 17th day of the trip was spent in Amsterdam. To start our day we went on a canal tour through Amsterdam, passing several sights such as parts of Jordaan, and Anne Franks house. Once the tour was over our councilors and guides surprised us with tickets to Madame Tussauds. We were given free time to go in there and then see what we wanted in Amsterdam. Madame Tussauds was really cool, my favorite was probably the Avengers. Once we had seen all of Madame Tussauds we went to get lunch and then had a look around at some of the canals and went and did some shopping. After doing some more walking around we had to head back to the guides so we could go back to the hotel. Once we got back to the hotel we had some free time and then we had a final night party and flag signing. It was really great and a lot of fun. 

The final day was spent driving back to Denmark. It was a sad trip because over 18 days we had all become very close and considering a lot of them were leaving shortly after. Once we had said our goodbyes it was time to head home. 

After Eurotour I spent a lot of time seeing my oldies and spending as much time with them as I could before they left. I also moved host families to the Schwartzs during this time. My new family is very welcoming and I have adjusted great. Due to some host family complications, I moved to what was supposed to be my third family so they had planned their summer holidays and couldn’t fit me in their plans last minute so right now I am back with Birgitte, Lars, and Zofie, no longer Victor who left to Mexico yesterday for his exchange. Tomorrow we will go to Møn for a few days, which will be nice. 

Tusind tak for reading it all 😁

- Lexie xx

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The Line [1]

...and where to draw it.

SERIES: Destiny WORD COUNT: 7,586 SHIP: Quinn/Drifter CHARACTERS: quinn leonis (AU), cayde-6 (mentioned), the drifter, kel, luke, nyx-14, glyph

i. dead reckoning

n. to find yourself bothered by someone’s death more than you would have expected, as if you assumed they would always be part of the landscape, like a lighthouse you could pass by for years until the night it suddenly goes dark, leaving you with one less landmark to navigate by—still able to find your bearings, but feeling all that much more adrift.

All around her people are moving, and Quinn feels like she’s at a standstill.

The air is chilly, heralding the rapidly approaching winter season in the Last City and bringing with it a rapid shift from lighter clothes for civilians (not guardians, though—maybe it was the undeath thing, maybe they just had really well insulated armor) to heavier coats and scarves.

The regular hustle and bustle of the Tower hadn’t been impeded by the shift, guardians moving to and fro, visiting the Cryptarch with secrets uncovered out in the wilds or Banshee for a tune-up of their favorite weapons. Techs rushed from the hangar to the new Vanguard hall, carrying urgent news to Zavala and Ikora, and other civilians that helped keep things running smoothly gathering around the newly placed heat lamps or sitting at outdoor café booths while on breaks.

The shopkeepers, likewise, were busy as ever. Tess in particular seemed flustered for once with how many people were running by to purchase gloves and scarves thanks to the sudden cold snap.

Quinn tugs at the hood of her armored jacket, and thinks that maybe she needs to buy a scarf as well, but she can barely feel the cold; whether it’s from the suffocating numbness she’s been fighting for the last several weeks or her body simply not registering it after enough exposure, she has no idea.

Her head had been foggy as of late. Save for the small handful of people she regularly talks to—rather, talked to until recently—she barely sees passing faces, has a hard time recognizing voices, and by extension struggles to realize when someone was trying to get her attention. Time passes without her even noticing it.

It’s not that she wants to be so distant, but try as she might her connection to the moving world around her had snapped, leaving her adrift and dazed.

Ikora has tried to speak with her several times since her team had returned to the Tower from the Reef, Cayde’s lifeless body cradled in the arms of their team leader. Tried to bridge the unintended gap that had formed between her and the Vanguard after their return.

No one knows he’s dead. No one but her fireteam, the Vanguard, and the small group of people Ikora and Zavala trusted to keep the loss secret.

‘We can’t afford the hit to morale,’ Zavala had said, while Quinn struggled to not reach out and slap him for being colder than the weather had gotten, ‘the people are still afraid, thanks to the Red Legion assault. They need to know their Vanguard is unified and whole and keeping them safe.’

Well, the Vanguard wasn’t unified and whole, and now there’s a hole punched through her chest, growing larger and threatening to swallow her with the few people that recognized her as Cayde’s girl. ‘Why isn’t he in the tower?’ They ask her, and she has to swallow around the stone that finds its way into her throat every time, ‘The Commander said he went out scouting, but it’s been a while.’

Her tongue always feels heavy with the lie when she tells them that he’s just keeping radio silent for the safety of the people here.

And so, the activity in the Tower keeps moving, blurring around her while she finds herself losing time, wandering with no true destination or goal, from one end of the Tower to the other and sometimes getting herself lost venturing down into the still rebuilding City itself. No matter where her feet take her, she never finds a place she feels comfortable in for longer than an hour at most.

Her fireteam was in nearly the same place she was—unsure of where to direct their focus, of what to do after the fall of the Prison and the loss of the Hunter Vanguard. They’ve gone out on a few tactical strikes, done some minor system housekeeping, but they all agree nothing felt satisfying about it anymore.

But none of them were feeling the same kind of pain she was. The deep, aching loss of someone she had begun to see as her other half, someone she’d given her heart to only for it to die with him. Kel, perhaps, understood it best, and it was probably why he spent as much time as he could tracking her down in whatever remote spot she’d found to hide in and sat quietly with her just so she wasn’t completely alone.

Of course, it probably wasn’t his only reason for doing so—he also understood that right then, she didn’t want to be comforted. She wants to take her ship and haul ass back out to the Reef, to hunt down the Scorn barons and put them down, to corner the disgraced Awoken prince and plant a bullet in his skull for what he’d done.

She doesn’t want sympathy and comfort. She wants Uldren Sov dead.

She isn’t the only one, her entire team vocally expressing their desire to return to the Reef to exact retribution for the cruel, slow, and painful true death the Barons and Uldren had given Cayde.

But Uldren Sov was the crown prince of the Reef, and the City couldn’t risk a war with the Awoken, not so close on the heels of the Red Legion’s assault and takeover of the City. Nevermind that Uldren had lost his mind and gone rogue, nevermind that the Reef’s structure had crumbled after Oryx decimated their fleet and killed their Queen.

No, nevermind any of that—they still couldn’t risk it. Zavala had forbidden retaliation, told them all to focus on the safety of the City and the People they were meant to protect, and when Quinn had let him know exactly what she thought of that decision he had placed a system lock on her ship and effectively, infuriatingly, put her on house arrest.

Glyph, the ghost that had claimed her as its own a while back, materializes in the periphery of her vision. It doesn’t understand what she’s going through, not really, and because of the unique relationship between them—it hadn’t risen her from the grave, and so their light wasn’t one and the same—it couldn’t feel what she did. Regardless, it’s worried about her, and it’s made that known many times since her lockdown had begun. “You’re doing it again.” It says plainly, glowing purple ‘eye’ blinking at her and concern coloring its tinny voice.

Quinn rearranges her expression, figuring she’d probably looked something bordering the line of murderous. “I’m fine.”

“I didn’t ask if you were.” It points out, the blue-, white-, and black-colored facets of its diamond-shaped shell flitting around in what she recognizes as agitation. “But you’re clearly not.”

No, she definitely is not, and she’s far too proud to admit it.

There’s still so much she doesn’t know about herself, but she can already feel that she doesn’t and never has handled raw emotions like this well, and she knows that sooner or later, she’s going to snap. Though her memory was so foggy, she’s pretty sure she’s never felt this bad before in her life. It was almost funny that losing Cayde was affecting her this badly when she was decently aware of losing something in the past—her home? Her family? Her purpose?—and yet whatever caused her to wake up from stasis, alone, with few memories and in a world she didn’t recognize paled in comparison.

How was her snap going to take shape, she wonders morbidly. Was a passing comment, regardless of what it was, going to be too much and send her into a violent frenzy? She’d had an infrequent nightmare of nearly beating someone to death with her bare hands, and with the way her mental state was lately she was beginning to fear it was less a nightmare and more a memory.

Was she going to throw herself off the Tower and plummet the handful of miles to the ground to her death, knowing that she, unlike her fellow guardians, couldn’t be revived? Probably not—she knew enough about herself to know that killing herself wasn’t in her playbook. Too stubborn for it.

Would she end up like Uldren? Rogue and thrown to rot in a cell, losing her mind after losing someone she loved dearly and taking it out on those she counted as allies?

She shivers at the thought.

She loves the City. Loves the Vanguard and its consultants, loves Amanda and the new addition, Hawthorne—Shaxx as well, and even Banshee, gruff and antisocial as he was, was someone she counted as a close friend.

But she feels other now.

Rather, she feels other once again—the same way she felt before Cayde had poked and prodded her into opening up and drawing her into the fold of guardians, made her feel welcome and home rather than just a strange anomaly no one could make sense of. She knows in truth it’s more likely just because she knows Cayde is gone for good and everyone else around her has no clue, but the darker parts of her heart are telling her it’s because Cayde was the first and closest tie she had to feel like she belonged here.

Traveler damn her, she needs to find something to do before she spirals further.

Heedless of the steep drop off the Tower before her, Quinn uncrosses her legs and stands, hopping down from the thick concrete railing she’d been sitting on onto the tile of the courtyard in front of the Tower’s guardian housing. To her right is the gaudy, over decorated pavilion that Executor Hideo had claimed for his faction—conveniently located right in front of the apartment block so he could pester people into supporting him.

“I swear, that last Gambit match was rigged.”

The statement catches her ear as she passes by the pavilion, and she stops; Glyph, hovering behind her shoulder as she walks, absent-mindedly bumps into her and then in a fit of embarrassed energy flits around her head before settling again.

“We almost had them,” another guardian says, voice muted and difficult to catch through the rest of the chatter around the plaza.

The first guardian that had spoken waves in the corner of her vision. “No, we had it, but it’s apparently as rigged as competitive Crucible, I guess.”

Dropping her eyes from the pinned notice on a nearby board she’d been pretending to read, she looks over at the pair of guardians, and both of them cease talking immediately, staring back at her. Glowering, really. She���s not surprised. New Monarchy supporters tended to be haughty and standoffish in her experience—a reflection of the arrogant wannabe king that ran the faction.

Rolling her shoulders, Quinn continues through the arch on her way to the main plaza.

Gambit.

It’s something she’s heard other guardians mention over the last few months, always in secret, always hushed. It was like they were trying to keep it from being widespread knowledge. She’d been wondering what it was considering it seemed to be happening under the Vanguard’s nose—definitely confirmed, now that she knew it was some type of competition.

The only guardian-versus-guardian competition in the City was the Crucible, and Shaxx hadn’t ever mentioned a match type called Gambit. Maybe it was something he was testing out before making it a part of the official Crucible lineup, but Shaxx hadn’t ever been good at keeping secrets about his pet project, and she’s sure the only playtesters he’d allow were the elite of the Crucible—those guardians that devoted their time almost exclusively to engaging in a battle royale for sport and entertainment or for training newly risen guardians. None of the guardians she had overheard speaking of it were recognizable or decorated with Crucible emblems.

She changes direction and passes directly through the bazaar without stopping.

When she reaches the Crucible pavilion in the main plaza and mentions it to Shaxx, he confirms he has no game type called Gambit and has no intention of making one at the time. He does, however, tell her that he’s overheard mention of such a gametype as well, but has no idea what it is or who might be running it. As he speaks to her his tone takes on something frustrated, and it becomes obvious that he has concerns about its existence.

It’s understandable.

Guardians fighting guardians was a subject that made almost everyone uncomfortable, the Dark Ages of warlord guardians and light-fueled massacres such a black stain on the history of humanity post-Collapse that even she knew of it and many older guardians refused to speak of it.

There was a reason the Crucible was the only accepted form of it—it was heavily regulated, every match was monitored constantly by Shaxx’s quartermaster frames whether it was professional competitive Crucible or unaired training. Certain weapons were banned because of a danger to ghosts, certain people were barred from participating (herself included) due to either skill imbalance or a demeanor that threatened participants.

So what the hell was Gambit? Why did she keep hearing about it? And why did only a small number of guardians seem to even know about it?

She can feel a fixation start to form, her mind desperately latching onto it in an effort to avoid the things that had been consuming her for weeks. She needs to know what the hell this is, a gnawing pest in her brain telling her to take the diversion while it’s in front of her. Something about it felt dangerous and she can’t put her finger on why, but she dismisses the instinct.

She hears nothing else of this secret competition throughout the Tower as she wanders, though she keeps her eyes and ears trained and focused. Glyph isn’t sure why she wants it to keep an ear out for encrypted discussions on closed channels, but it does it anyway.

She’s descending the steps to the hangar when Glyph blips in surprise, its voice in her head. ‘Hold on, I’ve got something.’ It says. ‘Someone’s ghost slipped, I caught a mention of it.’

“Who?” She asks quietly.

‘That group at the bottom of the stairs. I’m cracking their encryption now—they’re talking about putting their names in for some kind of big match and picking up bounties for extra payout.’

So, there it is. She’s not sure what exactly she’s planning, but at least she’s got something. She continues descending the stairs as though nothing had happened and steps past the group Glyph had pointed out. “Back out before one of their ghosts catches you.”

‘Already did. You want me to tag them?’

Her brow furrows. “Yeah. I’m gonna follow ‘em.”

Another blip, this time of disapproval. ‘What exactly do you plan to do?’

She shrugs as though Glyph could see it, though it probably feels the motion without the visual, and crosses the floor of the hangar, weaving around techs organizing newly delivered equipment and supplies and heading for the station Amanda had set up shop in.

She holds her breath and forces her eyes forward as she passes another one, this one decorated with maps and littered with knives and partially disassembled handguns.

A plan isn’t something she’s got the energy to come up with at that point in time—this was just a spur of the moment fixation, a way for her to do something, anything that wasn’t wallow in the light she had lost.

Amanda’s face brightens when she spots Quinn heading for her; Quinn has to stifle a brief flash of despair that she has no idea her best friend is dead. She probably shouldn’t have bothered, because she then has to bite down on a swell of indiscriminate rage instead. It wasn’t right of them to keep Cayde’s death quiet, to wait for the right time.

There was no ‘right time’ to acknowledge or deal with death, and keeping someone from grieving a loss of a loved one was despicable.

Her and Amanda strike up a conversation over a partially disassembled sparrow, talking about everything from the upcoming Festival of the Lost (her stomach twists at the thought of officially saying goodbye) to the sparrow racing league she’s in talks with Zavala to strike up again now that the City had been reclaimed.

When the group of guardians Glyph had indicated turns to leave, Quinn excuses herself and tells Amanda she’ll stop by again later, and then follows.

She keeps her distance, shadowing them as they make their way through and breaking off as they do, stopping at different shops in the main plaza and striking up her first conversations in weeks to waive suspicion should the guardians notice her. Even Banshee, for all the old exo’s memory problems, had noticed her scarcity and is surprised when she stops by and says hello.

She feels a spark of guilt about that considering she’s only using him as a means to an end for her ultimate objective.

Which…was what, exactly?

It wasn’t like she had enough authority to just shut down an illegal operation herself, and she wasn’t feeling particularly endeared to Zavala to blow the whistle to him or Ikora. Shaxx, maybe, but he had discouraged a hunt for Uldren as well, and she rules him out.

She’ll figure it out as she goes.

‘There,’ Glyph finally says as they pass a corner nestled between the corridor she had just stepped out from and an open-air restaurant with a few patrons sitting and chatting with the owner, ‘their signatures disappeared in there.’

“’Disappeared’?” She asks, making her way over to the restaurant and taking a seat. She flags down the owner for some coffee to ward off the deeper chill descending on the Tower with the falling sun while she waits.

‘Yes. It’s…’ Glyph is silent for several seconds and then lets out a stream of beeping and blips that Quinn thinks almost sounds like the ghost’s version of swearing a blue streak. If her heart wasn’t feeling so heavy, she might have found it amusing. ‘How have Ikora and Zavala not picked up on this? It’s some sort of light-cloaking field. It’s like nothing is there at all!’

Leaning back slightly as the owner sets a mug of coffee in front of her, Quinn eyes the corner and notices an alley, damn near hidden between hung banners and overgrown plants and stacked crates and supplies. Now that she’s looking closer, she can see some sort of wrought-iron gate blocking the alley itself.

How had they entered it? Usually blocked areas in the Tower required specific passcodes from one of the Vanguard’s ghosts.

She turns back to her coffee and sips at it gingerly. “Maybe it’s discreet enough they haven’t noticed.” She speculates, ignoring the strange looks she receives from the civilians sitting next to her; apparently they’re not used to guardians that speak to their ghosts when they’re intangible. “That’s probably the point.”

The group she had followed reappears shortly after initially disappearing and heads out into the plaza, then makes the turn to head back through the courtyard and main plaza.

She waits until she’s finished with her coffee a little over fifteen minutes later before heading for the alley, Glyph materializing briefly to transfer glimmer to the restaurant owner for the coffee. No one pays her any mind as she slips between the stacked crates and under draped banners and decorative string lights.

The gate she had noticed earlier is only partially closed, and there’s some sort of thin, green banner roped through the bars. Her eyes narrow at it before she ducks down under the gate and into the darkened alley beyond; an exceptionally dim running light is strung in the edge where the floor meets the wall, and it leads the way farther in, turning down a corner she can just barely see.

Against the better judgement she feels as though she lost weeks ago, she follows it.

Glyph points out when they pass into that cloaking field it had mentioned, but Quinn feels no difference in either the air or the energy around her. She wonders if the difference was because of the divide between her and her fellow guardians, or if it’s part of the field being so discreet it goes unnoticed despite being next door to the bazaar Ikora regularly spent time in for fresh air and perspective.

After turning the corner the light leads her around, it takes her a fair distance farther down before the alley begins to lighten up more; she can see another corner up ahead where a brighter light originates from. Her pace slows as she approaches it and steps cautiously into the new light.

She’s not sure what, exactly, she had been expecting, but it’s still just an alley, albeit one that was occupied. There’s stacks of crates, supplies, haphazard piles of machinery and what looks like trophies—the helmet of a Fallen captain, a scorch cannon, Cabal flak rifles, and what even looked like a dismembered Vex arm poking out of a crate settled on the floor next to a pair of booted feet.

Blinking, Quinn lifts her eyes away from the various things stashed with no apparent care for consistency and up to the man standing in the center of the organized chaos.

He’s leaning awkwardly, one gauntleted arm thrown out to one side, as though to block something he’s standing in front of. He’s watching her through narrowed eyes, though there’s a friendly smile on his face framed by a short, dark beard and scars on his jaw. His hair is short, and a dark cloth band is wrapped around his head.

Green seemed to be his favorite color, between the banner on the gate outside, the large ones draped from the ceiling behind him, and the earth-green getup he wore. His clothes reminded her of the robes warlocks wore—was he a warlock, or did he just like the style? Fur pauldrons rest on his shoulders, and the gauntlets on his forearms look as though they’d seen better days, scratched paint and what even looked like rope twined around them.

There’s a gun tucked into the thick belt around his waist, and some kind of green pendant featuring two coiled snakes dangles from a string around his neck.

Quinn meets his eyes and decides she doesn’t trust him or the easy smile still on his face. Her instincts where people were concerned were usually a dead aim, but she’s unable to pick up on anything behind a friendly demeanor that doesn’t feel quite right. At the same time, she feels like the longer they size each other up he’s flipping through her like she’s his longtime favorite library book.

He finally shifts, leaning away from whatever he had been trying to keep hidden and gesturing in her direction. “Think I recognize you, sister—you’re Cayde’s lady, aren’t you?” He asks, voice somehow both a honey-smooth twang and a gravelly rasp that slithers up her spine like ghostly cold fingers.

“Am I that recognizable?” She asks, brow furrowing. Sure, she and Cayde had never hidden how they felt about each other, especially after the fall of the City, but romantic entanglements weren’t really paid much attention to in the Tower, most guardians more preoccupied with their fight against the forces plaguing humanity.

“Ah, ol’ Drifter sees a lot. Hears a lot more. You and him? Real sweet. Shame he ain’t around anymore, gotta admit the guy deserved a bit of happy, all he’d been through.”

Her blood ices over at the statement, suspicion and distrust spiking—how did he know? How did he know when everyone else had no idea? None of the Vanguard’s inner circle would have revealed the secret, and even the resident motormouth of her fireteam wouldn’t have. “Who are you?”

Not once has his smile broken, and Quinn hates that she still can’t figure him out. Her eyes briefly follow as his hand dips into a pocket on his waist and he pulls out a coin—again, green—flipping it idly between his fingers and rolling it over his knuckles as he watches her in turn. “Call me the Drifter. A name ain’t what you’re here for, though, is it?”

The way he asks the question implies he already knows what she’s here for—despite the fact that even she doesn’t know what she’s here for. Curiosity? Distrust? That much was a given; was he the one organizing this Gambit she kept hearing about? Or was he just someone running dirt under the Vanguard’s nose? Were the guardians she had followed accomplices?

What was going on? And who was he? In the years she’d spent in the City and the Tower since waking up, she’d never once seen him, not until right now.

‘He’s a guardian.’ Glyph tells her, voice a whisper despite it speaking in her head. ‘But something feels…wrong.’

She itches to ask Glyph what it meant by that, but she doesn’t trust talking to it with this…Drifter in earshot.

Her eyes follow the coin as he continues fiddling with it, almost mesmerized by the fluid motions. He’s good with his hands, clearly. “What’s ‘gambit’?” She finally asks, unsure of what else to say. She doesn’t want to admit she has no idea why she’d chased her leads here, much less that now that she was here she’s still not sure what she intended to do about it.

His grin doesn’t falter—doesn’t his face get tired smiling all the time?—but his motions stop, the coin disappearing somewhere into his sleeve with a deft motion of his hand. “Last I checked it meant some type ‘a play to get an edge.”

A light rush of irritation rolls through her. “I didn’t ask for a definition. It’s some kind of competition I keep hearing about.”

“Shoulda specified, darlin’.” He replies easily, brushing off her aggravated tone as though it wasn’t even there. “I got no clue about any ‘gambit’. Dunno where you heard it, but I ain’t got anything to do with it.”

Her skin bristles at the use of the pet name; she hated them, and Cayde had been the only one she’d ever let use one to refer to her. She swallows down a kneejerk reaction to say as much, but the slight uptick of Drifter’s lips tells her he probably picked up on body language that spoke the same words she hadn’t said aloud. “Are you sure about that? Because I followed a few people talking about putting their names in for a big match and some payout back here.”

“Maybe they were headin’ a different way,” he mimics her, crossing his arms over his chest, and she can’t decide if it’s meant to be mocking or not. “Can’t a guy prefer workin’ away from all the noise out there?”

“Not in conspicuously dark alleys hidden behind a whole bunch of junk.”

He laughs at the sarcastic observation and nods, gesturing idly in acknowledgement. “Fair enough, fair enough. Promise, I ain’t up to anythin’ bad. Just doin’ a bit of…discreet work for the Vanguard. Cayde, specifically.”

Her eyes narrow. Ikora’s Hidden did discreet work for her, but none of them hid in dark alleys with a bunch of equipment and weaponry that looked like centuries old designs. Quinn had even spoken to a few of them working out in the open, and met with a few out in the field on assignments. Was he name-dropping Cayde just to put her at ease, since he knew her connection to him?

“Uh-huh. Is gambit a part of that ‘discreet work’?” She pours as much blatant skepticism into her words as she can—he can play games, but so can she. Question was, could she play them at his level? Cayde had taught her how to play poker, once, and this guy had one hell of a poker face. She couldn’t even begin to tell what cards he had on the table, to the point she wasn’t sure he was playing at all.  “I keep hearing about it, and it doesn’t seem to be something anyone wants to—or is supposed to—talk about in the open. Why the secret?”

“Couldn’t begin to guess. But I’m gonna humor you, sister,” he says, and she feels his eyes on her back as she boldly steps around him to eye the handful of guns lined up against the wall, “say I am the guy runnin’ this ‘gambit’ business. If I’m keepin’ it close to the chest, I imagine I couldn’t go ‘round talkin’ about it with just anyone. Why’re you so interested?”

She takes a moment to admit that the guns he was holding onto looked damn nice and wonder how they handled before turning around to face him again, fighting to keep her face neutral; she’d never won a game of poker against Cayde, and he’d joked almost constantly about the fact she couldn’t hold her tells to save her life. “You know I love you wearin’ your heart on your sleeve, sunshine,” he’d say, “but you’re down a few thousand glimmer and I’m startin’ to feel bad.”

She doubts this guy would feel half as bad about playing her under the table.

No answer comes to her, both because she doesn’t trust herself to keep her cards hidden and because she still doesn’t know why she’s interested. It’s a fixation. A distraction, if only a brief one. It’s something shady, something under Zavala and Ikora’s noses.

Her eyes drop to the side and her brow furrows at the thought.

Is that what her interest is? Is she pissed off enough at Zavala forbidding her and her team from hunting Uldren to participate in and hide something unsanctioned just to spite him?

If that was the case, then why didn’t she just cut ties, hijack a ship, say damn the Vanguard and the City, and track Uldren down anyway?

Because she feels indebted to people that gave her stability while her foundation was crumbling, gave her the home she imagines she lost, long ago? Or maybe she was aware of the fact that Zavala was right—the City couldn’t afford another war so soon on the heels of the Red Legion’s, and even the smallest percentage of chance was too much to risk. She was just so lost in grief she was trying to ignore it.

She can feel the rage burning just under her skin at the thought of Uldren, feels the restlessness prickling at the edges of her senses; she needs to get it out of her system before she does something stupid.

Like punch Zavala in the nose, which she was already tempted to do.

“Lemme ask a different way: what is it you want? Money? Reputation? A good fight?”

The last option strikes a chord in her and her eyes snap back up to meet his instantly. Glyph chirps in warning, and she can feel without its input how dark her expression had gotten. How full of anger and hate her eyes were.

Does she want a fight? No. She wants Uldren fucking dead, and that want is leaving her drifting and unsure, apart from her fellow guardians, something black coiling around her mind like the snakes in this man’s pendant. She wants Uldren’s blood for taking yet something else from her after she’d already lost so much, but she can’t, and being kept from that is eating her from the inside. What she wants is a way to burn that away before it can consume her.

The longer he stares into her eyes, the wider his grin grows. “Alright, alright,” he says, voice slower and smoother than before. Seductive, almost. She wonders if it’s intentional. With a flick of his wrist, that coin he’d been fiddling with before is in his hand again, and he flips it over to her.

She catches it, turning it over in her fingers with a furrowed brow. “Is this supposed to mean something?” She asks, thumbing the emblem engraved into the coin; it was a mirror of the pendant he wore. Between it, the pendant, and the banners behind him she wonders what the significance is. Maybe just an aesthetic.

Snakes. Not very trustworthy creatures, if fables Quinn had read from pre-Collapse archives were anything to go by.

“Ha! Maybe. Your ghost should figure it out. Lookin’ forward to seein’ you again.” Is all he says with a shrug, stepping back over to his equipment in a clear dismissal.

Quinn stares at him for another moment, the smooth coin warming between her fingers. Glyph is quiet. She’s confused. Interested, off-balance, and confused all at once. What the hell had just happened? Who was this guy?

‘Drifter’ didn’t exactly give her much to work with.

She’s still standing there dumbly when he looks back over at her and grins again, both wicked and amused. Her back straightens and she immediately turns and beats a hasty retreat, that smile raking up her spine just as easily as his voice had before.

She wasn’t sure how to feel about that, tacking just one more bullet onto the thus far incomprehensive list of ‘what the fuck’ that meeting had left her with.

The fresh, cold air back out in the bazaar does nothing to aid in the effort to help her decide whether or not her momentary fixation had wound up turning into a good or a bad thing. She still has no intention of blabbing to the Vanguard or their immediate confidantes, but…

She glances down at the coin in her palm again and squints at it as though it’d give her the answer, but it just shimmers in the dimming twilight innocently.

Someone walks by and she instinctively curls her fingers around it, glancing around quickly before pocketing it and heading for the apartment block. She wasn’t sure if she relished the idea of being in her team’s shared living space at the moment, but the only other option she had was Cayde’s place.

And she definitely didn’t want to be alone there.

Strangely, though usually she’d happily play the petty bitch and just try to figure out the secret to the token the Drifter had given her out in the open where she was obviously not supposed to, she’d already decided to head to her own room, lock it down, and let Glyph pick it apart away from prying eyes.

She tells herself it has little to do with the potential promise of blowing off steam and entirely to do with her wanting to know what she was getting into before blowing the whistle to…someone.

That was the root of her problems, again. She had no idea what she was doing anymore. The rest of her team was still out taking the fight to the forces that would joyfully see them all exterminated, and she couldn’t even say for sure that, should Zavala lift her house arrest, she would be wanting to do the same thing.

She’s going stir-crazy. It’s definitely not helping curb her anger.

So get a fucking day job, she thinks to herself bitterly as the door to the team apartment slides open and she steps inside.

“Hey! You’re back just in time,” Nyx greets her with a wave from across the room, standing in front of a flat screen that her ghost is hovering near. Her jaw lights flash in a pattern Quinn recognizes as cautiously warm and welcoming, and she feels her chest tighten. “I managed to dig up some old movie things from way back in the Golden Age. We were gonna watch some.”

“You dug them up?” Her ghost, Kessler, beeps at her in aggravation, his facets twirling as he worked on transferring data to the screen’s system. “Sure, take all the credit.”

Nyx lets out a soft pfft at her ghost’s crotchety response, face plates pinching into an amused scrunch. “Grouch.”

Once again, Quinn finds herself wishing she were in the kind of mood to find the banter amusing. Glyph materializes next to her and blips consolingly, but it does nothing to lift her mood.

Luke’s head and shoulders pop out from around the corner leading into the apartment’s kitchen, and he beams at her, causing her mood to drop even further conversely. “It’s gonna be so bad. I can’t wait.”

“You don’t even know what Golden Age movies were like, Luke.” Nyx responds.

“So?” He says. “They’re old.”

“You gonna say that about your music?”

“Hey! Zepplin is a classic.”

“Yeah,” Nyx replies, deliberately slow, “because it’s old.”

Exhaling through her nose and closing her eyes, Quinn tunes Luke’s indignant response out and moves past them. Halfway down the hall to her room she nearly runs face-first into Kel as he steps out of his own room, and she swears under her breath. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” He says. He’s looking down at her in a very patented Kel way, intense and yet completely unreadable. If it weren’t for the fact she was used to dealing with Kel’s consistent nature of being aloof and distant and hard to read—both before and after he had started showing his face to his teammates—she’d be more irritated at her instincts once again failing to do her any favors.

He watches her for a moment, brow furrowing as he, like the Drifter before, reads her like a book. “Don’t let yourself get lost.” He says, finally.

She blinks at the statement, watching as he steps around her.

Classic Kel.

For once, his strange, distant way of showing he cared didn’t feel endearing. Instead, she just feels frustrated. She’s already lost, and all things considered he should know what she’s going through better than anyone twice over, considering how she’d heard he’d responded to Gil’s death years ago.

As she opens her door, she hears Luke protest Kel leaving the apartment without watching a movie with them. Kel mumbles something noncommittal in response, and the front door slides shut shortly thereafter. She wonders if Zavala had asked for his input again in directing the City’s hunters, as he had been doing frequently—apparently Shiro-4 had declined giving up fieldwork, no one could get in touch with Marcus Ren, and Kel was the next closest hunter with seniority in the Tower.

And Cayde hadn’t ever told Zavala and Ikora what his Dare had been, or if he’d ever even decided on one, so they had to make do.

Something dark and ugly twists her stomach at the thought. She wishes the doors weren’t automated for ghost access—she wanted to be able to slam hers shut, childish as the desire was.

She drops down onto her bed heavily and runs her fingers through her hair, digging them into her scalp until it stung, and desperately wills the despair and boiling rage at war in her chest to go away.

“Are you…sure you don’t want to watch a movie with the others?” Glyph asks her quietly, flitting down into her line of sight, the facets of its shell twisting around its center orb. It’s even more worried than it was before.

Quinn almost laughs thinking about how much more worried Glyph would be if it saw what she was like when she actually got mad; though she’s not exactly sure, herself, but she knows in her gut that ‘ugly’ was a tame way to describe what she became when truly enraged and upset. “I’m sure.” She wouldn’t be able to enjoy it anyhow, no matter how nice the thought sounded.

Glyph doesn’t respond.

She stands, reaching into her pocket to retrieve the jade coin she’d gotten from the Drifter and setting it almost gingerly on the stand next to her bed. “Think you can figure that out?” She asks, eager to shift the subject away from socialization as she steps away and reaches for the zipper of her jacket.

“Giving the ghost version of a huff, Glyph drifts over to it and its facets whirl around with activity, a probing beam of light striking the coin as it got to work. “I don’t know if there’s much to figure out,” it replies, “it’s a coin made out of a material that’s been rare ever since the Collapse.”

“Jade.”

She can feel Glyph blink up at her with surprise. “How’d you know?”

Her mouth opens to answer, motions halting as it occurs to her that she, again, isn’t sure. Seems she’s not sure of a lot these days save for wanting Uldren Sov’s head on a pike. “I…think there may have been some of it where I came from, too.” She finally says, hesitantly. Her coat slips from her shoulders and she tosses it haphazardly over the footboard of her bed.

She remembers so little of her life before waking up from stasis here. While it wasn’t exactly uncommon (and, in fact, was the norm) for guardians to not remember their first life, the particular way she woke into this world and the stark difference between her light-given abilities from her peers made it stand out a bit more. The significance of that sudden knowledge doesn’t slip past her.

She should probably tell Ikora—but that would require divulging how, exactly, she came to that little morsel of a clue, which she had no plans to do before she finally found out what the deal was with this Drifter guy.

Her ghost doesn’t say anything to that, but she can hear the thin fweem as it went back to work on the coin. She’s down to the tank top she wore under her coat and armor and her underwear before she finally hears a noise of success from her ghost.

“This is amazing,” it says, its facets flitting about wildly in excitement when she turns around and makes her way back over to take a seat on the bed, “it looks like it’s just a coin made out of a gemstone, but it’s actually a compact encryption key and transponder encased in the gemstone. All in one! Do you think he made them himself?”

She picks the coin up and stares at it, thumbing the emblem again and furrowing her brow. Gesturing idly, she shrugs her confusion and declines to offer her opinion on its question. “Which means what?”

A pause. “I, uh. I don’t know.”

This actually startles a choked laugh out of her, and the reaction results in an energized ghost. She’s sure that if Glyph were capable of it, it’d be beaming at her. “Well,” she says, “so much for ‘your ghost should figure it out’.”

“Hey! I did figure it out!”

Her eyebrow lifts.

It blinks, facets withdrawing around its core almost bashfully. “I mean, sort of. Look, the point is whatever he gave it to us for, we’ll just have to wait until we get a signal from it to find out for real.”

The coin twists and flips in her fingers as she thinks before she realizes that she’s fidgeting—at least it wasn’t braiding her hair, but she’d always hated displaying her anxieties so openly. Pursing her lips, she holds the coin out. “You should probably hang onto it, then. I won’t be able to tell when it gets one.”

“Good point.” It says, hitting the coin with another flash of light and dematting it into whatever light-fueled pocket dimension ghosts had access to. It looks at her long and hard, then, and she squints back at it. As she’s about to ask what the look was for it cuts her off. “Are you sure you want to do this? We could—we could just tell Zavala. Or Ikora. You’re still friends with Ikora, right?”

Whatever shift in her expression occurs it causes Glyph to recoil from her and she feels terrible. Her face drops to her hands and she takes a deep breath to calm herself. “Sorry,” she says. She feels like she needs to say more, but the words won’t come and so she sits there on her bed stupidly, her gaze going long and distant.

“You know, spending time with the team might be good for you.” Glyph says softly.

Silently, she agrees, but while she does want to spend time with her team, she also really doesn’t. In spite of the fact she hadn’t done much that day—meeting with the Drifter being the only moment that truly stuck out, strange a meeting as it was—she was exhausted. Glancing to her side where a clock is projected above the surface of her nightstand, she notes blankly that it’s barely past sundown.

Shifting, she settles onto her bed and pulls the covers over herself, rolling so her back is to Glyph. “You can go ahead and watch the movie if you want, Glyph. I’ll be okay.”

The room is quiet, but she eventually hears the hiss of her door opening and then clicking shut as Glyph leaves her alone with the silence.

#v: destiny #c: quinn leonis #c: luke #c: kel #c: nyx 14 #c: glyph #ch: the drifter #sh: embrace the dark #f: the line

[vidushi-trickytravellers]

30 Most Unusual Hotels in the World

For the adventurous and offbeat traveller who prefers to break free from everyday life’s routine, a regular luxury hotel is just simply boring. If you’re one of them, or you just wish for something unusual on your following trip, then you should consider a thrilling, remarkable stay in one of the most eyes popping and unique hotels. After you’ve been wandering a while, every hotel begins to seem the same. Hotels can be extremely repetitious, soulless, and unimaginative. They commonly have similar amenities, setups, breakfasts, etc. Some are better than others, but the maximum of the time hotels are essentially the ground from which you explore the area. From plush cushions and flat-screen TVs to minibars and continental breakfasts, maximum good hotel brands essentially give similar amenities. The only thing that actually differs is the perspective. Unless that is, you’ve reserved an unusual place to dwell.

For those who’ve gotten bored of the standard overnight setup, here are 30 of the most unusual hotels in the world.

Jumbo Stay, Sweden

Ever wished to spend the night in the cockpit of a genuine, renovated jumbo jet – on the ground. The plane is a used out jumbo jet model 747-212B from 1976, which was originally constructed for Singapore Airlines and later assisted with celebrated Pan Am. It has been granted a brand new, unique interior decoration, granting visitors a remarkable overnight experience. It’s an exhilarating budget hotel for aviation lovers and families with children but furthermore caters to business people since it’s placed at the entrance to Arlanda airport.

Fantasyland Hotel, Canada

Everyone likes a nice theme. And while amusement parks are popular for making the decent practice of them, it’s difficult to discover hotels that are themed through and through. In Canada, Edmonton’s Fantasyland Hotel is in a shopping mall, however, that’s merely the most unusual thing about it. Credible to its title, Fantasyland gives 120 fantasy-themed rooms, and you select your surroundings. Choices at this curious hotel encompass rooms that seem like a spaceship, a gas station, Polynesia, Rome, the Arabian desert, and a prison cell. Also, the connected mall has a waterpark, thrill rides, miniature golf, and a bowling alley.

Giraffe Manor, Kenia

The deluxe boutique hotel Giraffe Manor is situated in one of Nairobi’s most iconic structures, and its timeless beauty recollects the 1930s when European travellers initially flocked to East Africa to rejoice in safaris. With its grand façade, gorgeous interior, lush green gardens, and delightful courtyards, visitors frequently comment that it’s like walking into the movie Out of Africa. However, the most interesting thing about this unique hotel is its pack of inhabitants Rothschild giraffes who explore morning and evening, pushing their long necks into the windows in the expectation of a treat, before returning to their jungle sanctuary.

Treehotel, Sweden

Treehotel is a hotel that provides people an opportunity to experience nature amongst the tree-tops, while also providing a uniquely designed housing experience. Treehotel in Harads, a hotel where rooms are made 4-6 meters (13-20 ft) above ground with amazing perspectives of the Lule River valley, miles of wilderness, and a large river. The Mirrorcube is the hotel’s most exhilarating accommodation, covered by mirrored walls that reflect their surroundings. Treehotel was stimulated by the movie ”The Tree Lover” by Jonas Selberg Augustsen.

The Yays Crane Apartment, Netherlands

It was assigned Dutch designer Edward van Vliet to construct a trendy interior for a three-story apartment with unsteady perspectives over the IJ River. The crane operator’s box was left unchanged, so visitors can still listen to his recorded stories play.

Apparently, renovating cranes into hotels isn’t one-off stuff to do in the Netherlands: There’s moreover the 164-foot-high Crane Hotel Faralda, as well as the Harlingen Harbour Crane, whose actions you can control yourself.

Sun Cruise Resort, South Korea

Placed on a coastal cliff in Jeongdongjin, a traveller destination recognized for possessing the best perspective of the sunrise in South Korea, Sun Cruise Resort is one of the nation’s greatest traveller destinations. The hotel is a specially developed cruise ship on land. It is assembled high on the boundary of a mountain so that a walk on the sun deck helps its visitors to sense they are out at sea without agonizing from motion sickness. Sun Cruise Resort accentuates 211 rooms, both condominium and hotel style, a Western and a Korean restaurant, a rotating sky lounge, a nightclub, a karaoke, and a seawater pool.

Conrad Rangali Island, Maldives

Conrad Maldives Rangali Island greets visitors to dive into an incredible experience both above and below the surface of the Indian Ocean in the world’s initial underwater hotel villa, named the ‘Muraka’. This villa is a victory of unique structure and technology, providing a completely transformative excursion fitted to astonish the most sophisticated adventurers across the world. Situated further than 16 feet (5 m) below sea level in the heart of the Indian Ocean with glass walls, the Muraka is a two-level aquarium where you can fall asleep to fish swimming overhead and wake up to the swaying parts of coral.

Costa Verde, Costa Rica

Costa Verda is situated on a coastal rainforest cliff lay together between the dense green of Manuel Antonio National Park and the stunning blue of the Pacific Ocean. The resort is residence to one of the world’s greatly unique hotel suites, a refurbished Boeing 727 airframe (built-in 1965), which in its initial life accommodated travellers on South Africa Air and Avianca Airlines (Colombia). This completely adorned, meticulously intricate, two-bedroom, Boeing 727 fuselage suite jets out from the forest canopy, affording you perspectives that will make you sense like you’re flying.

Palacio De Sal, Bolivia

Situated on the shores of the magnificent Salar de Uyuni in Bolivia, only 25 km (15 mi) from the town of the similar title, you will discover the Palacio de Sal hotel, unusual in its class for being completely constructed with salt: walls, floors, ceilings, furniture, sculptures everything! The hotel was built in 1998 by the wild ambition of a hidalgo man, Juan Quesada Valda, a pioneer in salt hotels globally. With an unusual and sui generis architecture, the hotel gives its guests a spot to discover a balance with nature and relish a pleasant and memorable sleep.

Icehotel, Sweden

Icehotel is the globe’s initial hotel build of ice and snow. Established in 1989, it is reborn in a fresh appearance every winter, in the Swedish town of Jukkasjärvi, 200 km (125 mi) north of the Arctic Circle. The hotel has around 150 warm and cold compartments respectively. The latter has an ice décor and a bed made of ice which is wrapped with reindeer furs. The hotel moreover encompasses an ice church, ice bar, ice sculpting place, and pillar hall, in expansion to two heated restaurants, lounge, four meeting rooms, and two forest camps.

No Man’s Fort, UK

Constructed as a line of defense against enemy assaults on the Solent and Portsmouth, No Man’s Fort is the vastest of three extravaganza man-made forts that shape the united, Solent Forts in Portsmouth. From the minute you notice a glimpse of the extraordinary No Man’s Fort on the horizon, as your private boat makes its way, it’s impossible to feel anything short of fascinating. Showing off 22 elegant rooms and suites, the genuine attraction of this extraordinary but unique hotel is the enormous and diversified nature of the facilities and recreations on offer.

Hotel Marques De Riscal, Spain

Since its revelation in 2006 this masterpiece hotel established by Frank Gehry has become an extremely sought-after modern, extravagance resort. Architecture, art, gastronomy, wine, and the dense landscape all combine to build a remarkable sojourn among medieval cities in Elciego. The hotel’s elegant interior bears the apparent signature of Gehry’s design. Tilted walls, zigzag windows, cathedral-height ceilings, and a host of bespoke features establish the idea of accommodation as an endeavor of art in its 43 rooms & suites.

Casa Caracol – Isla Mujeres, Mexico

Located away from active Cancun, the Seashell House is on the gorgeous island ‘Isla Mujeres’ and is certain to impress. What's a better way to have a tropical holiday than inside this extremely unusual hotel. Precisely constructed like a seashell, every feature inside and out resembles a similar theme.

Sextantio Le Grotte Della Civita– Matera, Italy

The caves of Matera, Italy exhibit indications of civilizations living in them from nearly 9000 years ago! Recently this hotel group took 10 years to mightily carve out 18 wonderful hotel rooms, without offending the virtue and essence of the caves. Everything about the room pulls you back in time. Antique fabric bed linens, room details carved literally into the walls, and even relishing dinner in the old church.

Finn Lough Resort, Northern Ireland

Possibly one of the most unusual hotel rooms on the globe. These idyllic bubble domes are established back into the lush wilderness of Northern Ireland and offer visitors a genuine retreat. The transparent walls provide you a perpetual 180° perspective of the trees and the sky, which prior visitors have said is marvelous on a clear night. Just visualize the star gazing!

Nido De Quetzalcoatl, Mexico City

This snake whirling through the wilderness near Mexico City is precisely an assortment of 10 houses assembled by architect Javier Sanosiain. The photo above is only ONE of those houses, as the whole development extends out over five thousand square meters.

Cockpit Cottage, Costa Rica

It doesn’t get further unusual than an airplane hotel room in the trees. AV geeks will cherish the opportunity to sleep inside an MD-80 airplane! The inside is extensively more cozy than you would anticipate because a regional teak log has been inaugurated on the walls, providing it some significant ambiance. It was all the creature relieves that you require, like AC and tons of plugs. One of the nicest parts is it comes with an ocean perspective from the bed!

Cube House, Rotterdam, Netherlands

When an architect was encountered with a challenge on how to construct homes over a pedestrian bridge, this is how he responded to the need, with unusual and strange cube homes. Not merely are the exterior of the homes memorable, but the interior too. Each room is oddly constructed with angled walls and fascinating skylights. The cubes are straight in the heart of Rotterdam, creating an incredible jumping-off point to explore the town.

Kakslauttanen Resort, Finland

The Kakslauttanen Resort has both glass and additional conventional snow igloos for visitors to select from. Their world-renowned glass igloos are most prominent because in season visitors can see a Northern Lights show while resting in bed! When you’re not relishing the perspective from your room, the hotel proposes tours like dog sledding and a reindeer safari.

The Manta Resort, Tanzania

The underwater room at Manta Resort is the absolute honeymoon escapade. Not merely do visitors amass a totally underwater bedroom, but furthermore an above-water living space on a private floating island. The sole way to get to it is by speedboat.

And who requires to snorkel? Fish and different creatures swim right up to the windows of the bedroom! It’s an enchanted and memorable experience.

Ccasa Container Hotel – Nha Trang, Vietnam

Utilizing old shipping containers and modern recycled pieces of equipment, the team at Ccasa generated an unusual and environmentally responsible hotel! Not merely are the rooms super unique and relaxed, but the rates are insanely reasonable.

Free Spirit Spheres– British Columbia, Canada

Who doesn’t wish to dwell in a floating ball in the heart of the coastal rainforest on Vancouver Island!? The Free Spirit Spheres are possibly the greatly unusual accommodations you’ll ever set eyes on. Created from regional cedar and spruce woods, these round rooms are cozy even in the cooler summer evenings. Fall asleep with the natural influence of the trees and wake up to the sounds of nature emerging all around you.

Schlaffass – Pfaffstätten, Austria

Yes, this is genuine, you can sleep inside a wine barrel in the Austrian countryside. They really just re-opened this year with additional containers and conveniences, like wifi, keyless entry, and breakfast provided to your barrel.

Dog Bark Park Inn, Idaho

Idaho’s Dog Bark Park Inn is on practically every list of the planet’s most unusual hotels for a promising reason: It’s formed like a dog. Furthermore, everything inside the homey B&B is over-the-top dog-themed, comprising the cushions, the bedrest, the books, the cookies, the board games and riddles, and the curtains, handmade by the property’s greeting mom-and-pop landlords. Further, then a peculiar roadside attraction, though it’s that, too—” Sweet Willy,” constructed in 2003, is created from wood, metal, and stucco. And yes, you can carry your own dog.

Helga’s Folly, Sri Lanka

One of the globe’s completely unusual hotels, this estate in Kandy, Sri Lanka, is camouflaged from top to bottom in psychedelic hand-painted sculpture, skeletons, wax-dripped candelabras, and a jumble of other creepy-cool sets. Living here is ensured to make you feel like you’ve walked into a Tim Burton film. If you’re not quite up for a full-on overnight, you can travel only for dinner.

Book and Bed Tokyo, Tokyo, Japan

A paradise for bibliophiles, Book and Bed Tokyo appears like a used bookstore until visitors slide open a bookshelf and uncover a cozy corner with a simple bed, reading light, and electrical platform. Unabashedly bare-bones and not for the claustrophobic, 30 piled cubbies, each large enough for one person, is accessible behind the racks restored with 3,000 possession in Japanese and English. Bathrooms are shared, and sofas in the region outside of the bookshelves deliver a collective reading and meeting room.

Magic Mountain Hotel, Huilo Huilo Reserve, Chile

The Magic Mountain Hotel is in the Huilo Huilo Reserve, which encompasses 60,000 hectares of Valdivian wilderness, and has natural hot springs, untouched lakes, and a direct entrance to the Mocho Choshuenco volcano. Accommodation varies from rooms in the central lodge, which has a waterfall cascading from the peak of the ceiling to secluded wilderness hotels.

Das Park Hotel, Linz, Austria

Who would have reckoned concrete could be comfortable? These revamped sewage pipes are, thankfully, neat and functional and settle on the banks of the Danube, rendering them an ideal post-industrial bolthole.

Skylodge Adventure Suites, Sacred Valley, Peru

These aluminum and polycarbonate pods that clench to a granite ramp above the Urubamba Valley are completely unusual. With the night sky shimmering overhead as you rest, you sense more like you're dwelling in a spaceship than a hotel.

Henn na Hotel Nagasaki

Welcome to a future run by robots -sans the massive mistakes of humanity. Of course, all of this takes place in Japan – a center for technological growth for years now. Everything from your check-in to fetching your bags transmitted to your room is allocated robotically, with facial recognition renewing key cards and room keys. In fact, your robot hosts can do just about everything, encompassing giving you temperature updates.

Regardless there’s extra – the two wings of Nagasaki’s Henn na Hotel both demonstrate a variety of impeccable structure and high-tech interior climate solutions that incorporate enthusiasm with convenience, each in its own unusual character.

#uniquehotels #hotels #places to live in #resort #treehouse

[undertale-rho]

Underearth: Book 5 - Chapter 9

Stepping from the elevator, Frisk proceeded into the main parts of Elysium: the Elysium Palace. Reaching Asgore's home, Frisk stepped inside. Looking around, he noticed Chara seemed a bit sluggish.

"Hey Chara," he called, "you alright?"

Chara snapped back to attention. "Y... yeah. Yeah, I am alright."

Turning back around, Frisk walked over to Asriel's and Chara's old room. Opening the door, a wave of dust shot across the floor from the air pushed away by its opening. Within, Frisk walked across the room and grabbed both the locket and the dagger, placing the former around his neck, and the latter into his bag. Chara simply floated along, taking in the atmosphere of her old home.

Stepping from the room, Frisk went and grabbed the first key at the end of the hall. Upon turning around, an Elysian Guard stood behind him.

"HUMAN." the Elysian said. "I HAVE BEEN SENT BY ASGORE TO TELL YOU THE TRAGIC TALE OF OUR PEOPLE."

"Alright. Come along, I've got to make it to Asgore himself." Frisk said, passing.

"A LONG TIME AGO, A HUMAN FELL INTO THE CITADEL. INJURED BY ITS FALL, THE HUMAN CALLED OUT FOR HELP. ASRIEL, THE KING'S SON, HEARD THE HUMAN'S CALL. HE BROUGHT THE HUMAN BACK TO THE CASTLE."

As the machine spoke, Frisk grabbed the second key in the kitchen and unlocked the chain blocking the stairs in the foyer.

"OVER TIME, ASRIEL AND THE HUMAN BECAME LIKE SIBLINGS. THE KING AND QUEEN TREATED THE HUMAN CHILD AS THEIR OWN. THE UNDERGROUND WAS FULL OF HOPE. THEN... ONE DAY... THE HUMAN BECAME VERY ILL. THE SICK HUMAN HAD ONLY ONE REQUEST. TO SEE THE FLOWERS FROM OCHYRO, THEIR VILLAGE. BUT THERE WAS NOTHING WE COULD DO. THE NEXT DAY, THE HUMAN DIED. ASRIEL, WRACKED WITH GRIEF, ABSORBED THE HUMAN'S SOUL. HE TRANSFORMED INTO A BEING WITH INCREDIBLE POWER. WITH THE HUMAN SOUL, ASRIEL CROSSED THROUGH THE BARRIER. HE CARRIED THE HUMAN'S BODY INTO THE SUNSET, BACK TO OCHYRO. ASRIEL REACHED THE CENTER OF THE VILLAGE. THERE, HE FOUND A BED OF GOLDEN FLOWERS. HE CARRIED THE HUMAN ONTO IT. SUDDENLY, SCREAMS RANG OUT. THE TOWNSPEOPLE SAW ASRIEL HOLDING THE HUMAN'S BODY. THEY THOUGHT THAT HE HAD KILLED THE CHILD. THE HUMANS ATTACKED HIM WITH EVERYTHING THEY HAD. HE WAS STRUCK WITH BLOW AFTER BLOW. ASRIEL HAD THE POWER TO DESTROY THEM ALL. BUT... ASRIEL DID NOT FIGHT BACK."

Chara, who Frisk had been watching while the Elysian told its story, twitched at this last line.

"CLUTCHING THE HUMAN... ASRIEL SMILED AND WALKED AWAY. WOUNDED, ASRIEL STUMBLED HOME. HE ENTERED THE PALACE AND COLLAPSED. HIS DUST SPREAD ACROSS THE GARDEN."

"That... that is wrong..." Chara whispered, her eyes starting to flood with tears. "This whole thing is wrong."

"THE KINGDOM FELL INTO DISPAIR. THE KING AND QUEEN HAD LOST TWO CHILDREN IN ONE NIGHT. THE HUMANS HAD ONCE AGAIN TAKEN EVERYTHING FROM US. THE KING DECIDED IT WAS TIME TO END OUR SUFFERING. EVERY HUMAN WHO FALLS DOWN HERE MUST DIE. WITH ENOUGH SOULS, WE CAN SHATTER THE BARRIER FOREVER."

Frisk, who walked along the entire way, saw the archway to the Judgement Hall come into sight.

"IT'S NOT LONG NOW. KING ASGORE WILL LET US GO, GIVE US HOPE, AND SAVE US ALL." The Elysian leaned down to Frisk's head level. "YOU SHOULD BE SMILING, TOO. AREN'T YOU EXCITED? AREN'T YOU HAPPY? YOU'RE GOING TO BE FREE."

The Elysian spread its wings and shot off into the air, flying out of sight.

Frisk looked over at Chara, who was half-curled into a ball, her face buried in her hands.

"Are you okay?"

"... no..." Chara mumbled. "No, I am not okay..."

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"I... I..." Chara finished curling into a ball. "No, I don't want to talk about it..."

"Okay." Frisk sighed before entering the Judgement Hall.

Within, he ran into Sans, who judged him just as he had back in the second World. At the end, Sans then told Frisk that Undyne wanted to give him something before he left. Nodding, Frisk left the Hall soon after Sans, backtracking to Helios Station, then back to the MTT Resort, where Undyne called and asked him to stop by. From there, Frisk hurried to the R3 elevator, down to the L1 elevator, and then finally headed to Charon's boat, where both Calibri and Charon stood waiting.

"Ah, Frisk. Knew you'd be coming this way right about now." Calibri said.

"Yeah. Off to get Undyne's letter and deliver it to Alphys."

"Wanna postpone that for a bit?"

"And do what?"

"Take a quick boat-ride with Charon. You were gonna ride with him to Snowdin anyway, why not continue past and see everything the Acheron has to offer?"

Frisk looked over at Charon. "If it's okay with you, I don't see why not."

Charon simply waved his hand to his boat. Frisk climbed aboard and sat down. Charon quickly followed.

"Oh," Calibri said, "before you go, take this." he handed a small light-blue rock to Frisk. "I meant to hand this to you back in the MTT Resort, but you left before I could."

"Thanks." Frisk said, taking the stone. "Er... what is it?"

"It's a diaphone stone. Basically, a two-way radio, but magical. Both Sans and I have one. I'm sure you saw Sans holding his at some point before."

"Yeah, I remember."

"Excellent. This will allow instant communication between us. Just put a bit of SOUL AURA into it to activate it. That will either cause a call to be sent out, or to be answered. Send a bit more in to reverse it."

"I see. Thank you."

"No problem. Enjoy yourself." Calibri said, waving goodbye to them as Frisk and Charon began moving up the river.

Frisk placed the diaphone stone in his pocket.

"Tra la la, I will be dropping all my illusions on this journey." Charon said.

"Works for me."

As the boat slid along, they quickly reached and passed the dock to the Quiet Village, then the Snowdin docks, and finally entered the Citadel. Quickly after entering, a warm, familiar light shone ahead in the tunnel. Reaching the source, Frisk saw a great water wheel turning in the water, along with the front courtyard of Toriel's home. Toriel, unfortunately, was not present.

Continuing along, they once again entered a dark tunnel, which soon ended in the grand opening of many purple buildings. Banners bearing a sword situated behind a shield were flown in various places.

After a few minutes, the boat re-entered a tunnel at the other end of the Citadel. Emerging, Frisk saw a massive portcullis blocking a just as massive archway in the middle of the Citadel wall.

"Is that the main entrance?" Frisk asked Charon.

"Yes. Originally, there was a path that led to it, but it has long since been destroyed."

"Destroyed? By whom?"

"My brother. Or, at least, he gave the order. It would be more accurate to say the Unitary Republic of Home destroyed it. Ever since, besides this river, the fortified postern in Snowdin has been the only reliable way in and out of the City of Home. Nobody uses it, however, because it was designed to prevent an invasion, and so Asgore was more than wise to end his direct conflict with the Republic."

"Why were they in conflict."

"The Republic believed Asgore was a faulty ruler and wished to leave his tyrannical kingdom. The Underground, being a prison, made this particularly difficult. So, they took refuge within the walls of the Citadel and blocked off all attempts to force them back under Asgore's rule."

The boat continued along the river. As it continued, a palace soon came into view.

"We come upon the Oldtown Palace." Charon said.

"Can we stop there for a bit, Frisk?" Chara asked.

Frisk repeated the message to Charon, and he simply nodded.

Going inside a massive archway, Frisk and Charon entered a great hall covered in vines. Stopping in the center, Frisk disembarked and went further inside; Charon opted to stay with the boat.

The inside was brilliant. The walls were made of granite and were covered in great cloths of purple, gold occasionally finding its way in places. Walking the halls, Frisk found the interior to be quite simple. Two great halls featured themselves on either side of the palace; one leading into the City itself (which Frisk didn't dare enter), and the other being the one he'd emerged from originally. Both connected to an outer square of a hallway, which led to an inward hallway, which continued to an inner courtyard.

Upon turning the corner to this courtyard, Chara shot ahead, into the center. Confused as to why, Frisk looked ahead himself, catching sight of a great golden tree which seemed to emit this otherworldly golden light. Chara floated near one of the branches, taking in the radiant glow.

The golden tree itself was shaped like a great goblet, though the "cup" portion made up numerous symmetrical branches that continued in a pattern perfectly, as though it were constructed rather than grown.

Stepping toward the courtyard, Frisk suddenly found a couple spear-points aimed right at his throat.

"THIS IS A RESTRICTED AREA. TURN BACK IMMEDIATELY." a robotic voice sounded from Frisk's left.

Moving his eyes to see what was there, he found a winged Elysian, battle-ready and not looking like it was into joking around. Stepping back, the Elysians that pointed their spears at him relaxed their aggressive stance and returned to a more passive posture. Taking a second to properly look at the rest of the courtyard instead of just at the tree, Frisk noticed that both doorways into the courtyard had two Elysians stationed at it. Within the courtyard itself, Frisk also noticed at least four orb-like Elysians—with horns coming out the tops and a great eye watching for trespassers—situated around the corners of the courtyard, floating far above where one would normally think to look.

Floating back, Chara asked Frisk what happened.

"These kind Elysians decided that it would be rude if I entered." Frisk answered.

"What? Why? It's just Chrykardro."

"Chrykardro?"

"That is what this tree is called... My tree. It has the most spectacular fruit. You should try some!"

"I'd love to, but like I said, these Elysians won't let me enter."

Chara looked back at the machines, which stood completely still on either side of the doorway.

"Maybe Calibri will know why?" Chara suggested.

Frisk thought about it for a second. "Good idea." he said, pulling the diaphone stone from his pocket.

Looking over the stone, he eventually tried pouring a bit of magic into it. Immediately, the stone started glowing light blue. A few seconds later, the shade darkened to a more modest blue.

"Joe's bar 'n grill. How may I take your order?" a voice came from the stone.

"Er... what?" Frisk said.

"Oh, hey kid, it's Sans. Cal gave you a rock, huh."

"Yeah. Speaking of them, you know where Calibri is?"

"Give him a second. It usually takes him a bit."

The stone flashed light blue again before returning to the more modest shade.

"Calibri here. What's up?"

"Ah, Calibri. I wanted to ask you something." Frisk said.

"Ask away."

"Alright. I'm currently in the City of New Home, specifically the palace here."

"You're asking about the Tree of Golden Leaves?"

"Er... yes?"

"A giant golden tree in the courtyard of the palace surrounded by Elysians, that sound about right?"

"Yeah, that's the place."

"What'd you want to know?"

"Why are there so many Elysians?" Frisk asked.

"That's an excellent question. One I don't have a confirmed answer for, however. If I had to guess, I'd say it's because that tree is the greatest reminder Asgore has of Chara, and so he wants it protected at all costs. Interestingly enough, that courtyard is the most guarded location in the entire Underground."

"You're kidding."

"Nope. You try to step foot in there, and every Elysian in the Underground is liable to kill you."

Frisk shuttered and stepped further away from the doorway. "Thanks for the heads-up." he said.

"No problem. If you need anything else, feel free to contact me again."

Frisk sent another wave of magic into the stone, causing it to stop glowing. In the following minutes, Frisk backtracked to the chamber through which the Acheron flowed. Nearing Charon, Frisk noticed a grand purple curtain veiling something at the back of the hall. Jumping over the river, Frisk continued to the curtain, pulling it aside.

Behind the curtain, Frisk found a grand painting, standing at least three times his height, depicting a fluffy white goat-Monster, and a Human with rosy cheeks and crimson-red eyes. They were both draped in flowing purple cloaks, with the Monster crest—the winged orb with three triangles beneath—pinning the two sides of the cloak together.

Both Frisk and Chara stood speechless in front of the painting, taking in its every detail. Eventually, however, Frisk stepped away. Returning to Charon, he climbed back aboard his boat and they all sailed back upstream.

Soon after leaving the palace, Mount Hot once again came into view. Passing the Hotlands and Waterfall again, the boat slowed to a stop at the edge of Snowdin.

"Thanks." Frisk said, disembarking.

"Come again some time. Tra la la."

Frisk walked further into the town. First stopping by the shop, Frisk hurried and bought the dagger sheath, placing it on his belt and sliding the dagger into it. He then hurried to Papyrus's house. Upon reaching Papyrus's house, he called out to Undyne.

"Oh hey! So, um, I have a favor to ask you." Undyne said.

"Delivery, right? What do you need me to take, and where do you need me to take it?"

"Uuuuh, I... oh, right. It's... to Doctor Alphys."

"And you want me to take it because Hotland eats away at your energy, right?"

"What? I mean, uh... yeah. Yeah that's why!" Undyne pulled the letter from her pocket and thrust it into Frisk's hands.

"Did you remember to sign it so she knows who sent it?" Frisk asked, taking the letter.

"Ye— w... wait a second..."

"Welp, better get on with my delivery."

"WAIT!!!" Undyne shouted.

In an instant, Undyne snatched the letter back from Frisk's hands. She then ran into Papyrus's house.

"Wow, she seems rather absent-minded."

"REALLY?" Papyrus said.

"You haven't noticed?"

"THE ONLY THING I HAVE NOTICED IS THE NUMBER OF LETTERS SHE WRITES. IT'S VERY HIGH. HOWEVER, SHE CAN NEVER SEEM TO FIND THE RIGHT WORDS, SO WHEN SHE GOES TO DELIVER THEM HERSELF, SHE ALWAYS QUITS SO SHE CAN GO BACK AND REWRITE." Papyrus looked straight at Frisk. "THAT'S WHY SHE ASKED YOU!! BECAUSE YOU HAVE NO STANDARDS!!!"

"Oh, wow, thanks."

"YOU'RE WELCOME!"

The front door burst open again, with Undyne running back out. "Here!!!" she shouted, shoving the letter into Frisk's chest, knocking him down into the snow.

"Thanks..." Frisk said, standing up. Looking at the letter, there was now writing streaked across the back of the envelope. Not that it helped, seeing as it was practically illegible, but it was forward progress.

"So? What are you waiting for?" Undyne asked. "The sooner you get it over with, the better!"

"You know, you could just call her, right?"

Undyne stepped back, her face growing just a few shades red. "N... no! Th... that wouldn't work."

"Whatever. I'll go deliver it now." Frisk started making his way towards the Waterfall Caves.

"You won't be taking the boat?" Chara asked.

"Nah. I know it's faster, but I'm fine with walking for now."

"Alright."

Entering the Waterfall Caves, Frisk walked through the encroaching darkness for a few minutes before conversation restarted.

"So, what is the deal with Undyne?" Chara asked. "She seemed... odd. Distracted."

"She likes Alphys."

"What?"

"What what? Undyne likes Alphys, so she stumbles over her words when talking about her, or to her, and so on. Honestly, I find it silly. If you like somebody, you should just tell them."

"But... isn't... aren't they both... female?" Chara asked.

"Yeah, what about it?"

"Barbarian!" Chara shuddered bitterly.

"Excuse me?" Frisk stopped walking and looked right at Chara, who wore a look of disgust. "Did you just call Undyne a barbarian?"

"Of course! She is participating in a barbarous act!!"

Frisk scratched his head. "So what?" he asked.

"So, if that vile act spreads, all of civilization could collapse. They must be stopped! Burn that letter—"

"Chara!" Frisk shouted firmly. "Relax!"

Chara, looking reprehensively at Frisk, eventually calmed down.

"Okay..." Frisk breathed. "What the hell?"

"What?" Chara asked, bemused.

Frisk's thoughts raced. Even on the surface, same-sex attraction was a contentious subject, and Frisk had seen on a few occasions some people with very strong opinions one way or another.

Taking a deep breath, Frisk looked back at Chara. "Okay, help me understand. You called Undyne a barbarian. Why is she a barbarian?"

"Because she likes Alphys in that way."

Frisk brought his hands forward, gesturing for her to continue. "That's it?" he eventually said when she didn't. "That's the only reason?"

"Do I need another?"

Oh boy...

"Alright, what makes same-sex attraction barbaric?"

"Because that is what is said within the Thiakereexe too Politismoo. The document from which the Anendotos Kingdom held to and lasted for three thousand years from. To stray from it is to accept the destruction of our way of life."

"Chara—"

"What!?"

Frisk froze, then sighed. "Nevermind." he went back to thinking.

"Say your right..." Frisk eventually said. "Say this... act is barbaric. So what?"

"What do you mean?"

"Just that. So what? What Undyne feels for Alphys doesn't affect me or you, and the same is true in reverse. Speaking of the reverse, why didn't we have this conversation outside Alphys's lab when Mettaton stated that Alphys had a crush on Undyne?"

"I... I was going to mention something about that, but it was just an attraction at that point, not an attempt to act on the attraction. So, I didn't bother."

"So now that I'm delivering this love letter, you feel that you must provide your own input."

"Yes."

"Well then, I go back to my earlier question. So what? So what if Undyne and Alphys love each-other? What they do doesn't affect either of us, so why worry about it?"

Chara remained silent.

"Think about this for now. If you wanna resume this conversation later, I'd be more than willing to continue." Frisk said as he resumed walking.

Down the tunnel, Frisk reached a chamber that started with a wooden bridge. Crossing it, he then saw something... unexpected.

"What in the hell?" he said.

"What?" Chara asked.

Frisk pointed at the object.

It was a Human. Or, at the very least, humanoid. Stepping closer, it looked to be a giant doll, standing a head or two above Frisk. The doll featured pink hair, spanning into two long pigtails that stretched out from either side of its head. Above the pigtails, around the middle-top of its head, were two cat ears with a large golden bell secured below each ear. It wore a pink dress that stretched down to its knees, the lower half of which was white, with white gloves and boots worn over its hands and feet. Bells were secured to the bridge of the boots. A long tail, roughly the length of one of the doll's legs stretched out from beneath the dress.

"What is this?" Chara said, floating around the back of it.

"Kinda looks like something Alphys would be interested in..."

Frisk reached up to the head of the doll and scratched behind its cat ears.

"What are you doing?" Chara asked.

"It looks like a cat."

"What's a cat?"

Frisk didn't bother answering. Instead, he just continued scratching.

"ENOUGH!!!" a shout sounded throughout the room. "ENOUGH!!!! ENOUGH!!!!!!"

Frisk quickly pulled his hand back to his side. The doll suddenly shot backward, its face contorting into a nasty grimace.

"FOOL!! DON'T YOU KNOW NOT TO TOUCH PEOPLE YOU DON'T KNOW!?" the doll shouted. "ESPECIALLY!! WHEN!!! THEY'RE!!! Ticklish."

What the... what...? Frisk thought, staring at the doll.

"Huh? You don't recognize me...?" the doll then asked.

"Can't... can't say that I do."

"Ohhh ho ho... That's all for the better~! Once I fuse with this perfect new body, mew~, A brand new, wonderful life is going to begin!"

"This kind of sounds like that one angry dummy from the garbage dump." Chara said, observing the situation with distant glee.

"You think so?"

"... but as much as I try to fuse..." the doll continued, unaware of Frisk and Chara's dialogue, "IT'S!! NOT!!! WORKING!!!! MY EMOTIONS AREN'T PURE ENOUGH!! I need TENSION! CONFLICT! Something to bring out my ANGER!!!" something then clicked within the doll. "That's it!!!" it shouted in a cutesy voice. "YOU!!! Human!!! Fight with me!!! COMBAT!! BLOODLUST!! DESTRUCTION!! It's the perfect emotional cocktail... To fuse with my new body, mew~"

As the doll finished speaking, numerous giant orbs appeared around it and shot straight at Frisk. Frisk, seeing these approaching, summoned a shield.

"You, I remember you now." Frisk said dramatically. "You're that dummy from the garbage dump!"

"Correct you are." the doll said. "But I have shed that bleak form for this new fantastic (and cute) body. Wondering where I got it from?"

"Would be interesting to know."

The doll laughed. "I found it in... a strange place. A... sciency place." the doll launched more orbs at Frisk, who either blocked or dodged them. "No idea what was going on there, but... as soon as I saw this body, I just knew... IT WAS ME!!! ME!!! ME!!!! So I took it! You can't blame me! Why does a scientist need a life-sized girl statue anyway!?"

So it did belong to Alphys before, huh. Well, it's in better hands now.

Frisk dodged more orbs launched his way.

"I probably saved it from experiments!!!" the doll continued. "I'm a hero, and I rescued myself!!! And now, with this new body, I've got a brand-new life ahead of me!! And now, I'll finally be able to... I'll... finally be able to... uhh, continue being Undyne's training dummy. BUT BETTER!!! Ah, Undyne... Sweet, violent Undyne~. I can't wait to see the look on her face when she sees me~."

Ah, another person interested in Undyne... Frisk thought, letter still tight in hand. Chara let out an annoyed sigh, floating backwards away from the fight. The doll simply continued daydreaming, absentmindedly summoning more orbs to throw at Frisk.

"She'll blast me with a storm of spears~. I'll be the world's greatest pin cushion~." the doll opened its eyes from its daydream, noticing Frisk's now somewhat somber face. "H-huh...!? That look on your face, she's already got... somebody else?" the doll's own face went dark.

"Sorry to say, but... yeah."

The doll stood there in silence for a few seconds. Eventually, though, it began laughing maniacally. "Well, if she's got somebody else..." it started saying. "THEN YOU KNOW WHAT I'M GONNA DO TO THEM!?? I'LL RESPECT THEM!!! I'LL RESPECT HER RELATIONSHIP!!! HAHAHA!!! HAPPY FOR HER!! NOTHING BUT THE BEST!!! BEST OF LUCK!!!" with each exclamation, the doll fired more orbs, far more fiercely than before. As Frisk listen, he couldn't help but feel there was a hint of... melancholy hidden beneath the shouts and violent projectiles.

The doll snapped focus back onto the battle. "Enough. ENOUGH. ENOUGH!!! Why haven't I fused yet!? Do I have to use my full power!?" it looked back at Frisk. "COME ON! IS THIS ENOUGH FOR YOU!?" the doll fired more orbs, yet nothing it fired could pierce Frisk's indomitable shield.

"Enough. ENOUGH. ENOUGH!!!" the doll shouted again. "WHY ISN'T THIS WORKING!? NO MATTER HOW MAD I GET, NO MATTER HOW MUCH I FIGHT, I JUST CAN'T FUSE WITH THIS BODY!!! WHAT AM I DOING WRONG!?!?" the doll dropped its fierceness and slumped backwards against the chamber wall. "What am I doing wrong..."

"You think that maybe anger is the wrong emotion to use?" Frisk asked.

"H... huh? You mean I might have to try... other... emotions? You mean something like... love? Then, I... I'll..." the doll went silent.

Frisk walked over to the doll and hugged it.

"Huh...? Such... such kindness...!" the doll said, surprised at the sudden Human now hugging it. "It's... making me feel something!"

Frisk let go and stepped back. The doll looked down at itself, deep in contemplation, then up at Frisk.

"It may be a while before I can truly fuse with this body." it said. "But I think this is a start...! Heh, to think that even though I hid here to be alone... I somehow made a friend!!! Thank you. Thank you! THANK YOU!!"

"No need to thank me. I'm just... glad I could help out." Frisk said. "Say, if we're friends now, shouldn't we know each-other's names?"

The doll looked contemplatively at Frisk. "Heh, of course!" it said, outstretching its hand. "I'm Chilabl—" it froze for a second. "Chilaton."

"Nice to meet you, Chilaton." Frisk said, taking her outstretched hand. "I'm Frisk."

They both shook on their greeting.

"Anyway, I'd best get going." Frisk said. "See you around."

Crossing a river between him and the exit, Frisk passed through a doorway, where he found Chara waiting on the other side.

"Took you long enough." she said.

"Sorry, was making sure Chilaton felt better before continuing on my way."

"Oh, so her name is Chilaton, huh. Another damn barbarian, it seems."

Frisk's teeth clenched. "What the hell is your problem!?"

"EVERYTHING!!!" Chara shouted.

Frisk stepped back, surprised at her sudden uproar. Chara, too, seemed a bit astonished, but continued regardless.

"I don't understand anything! Everything I've learned within these past few hours... don't you get it? I... I feel like my entire life was just one big lie... one big lie I only discover after I gave my life to save the deceivers."

"Chara—"

"I'm not finished! My father—my real father—sought my own death because I believed in something contrary to him. My adoptive father—Asgore—apparently butchered all of Diesian Lake, among other things. My adoptive mother—Toriel—is a damned coward who runs from responsibility. Even my adoptive brother—Asriel..." tears began seeping from her eyes as she spoke. "he's now just a flower who seeks joy in the death and suffering of others."

Chara focused back on Frisk. "And you!!!" her voice burned with acid. "The damn, vile Human filth I just had to be bound to. Perhaps the worst of them all. The one who, after making great friends out of Sans, Papyrus, Undyne, Alphys, mom, dad, and all the other Monsters you took the time of day to get to know, even marginally; you return with that horrid power and butcher them all. Not once. Not twice. Not thrice or quice, but five times!! Five times you saw fit in carving a path through Monsters, uncaring of who you killed, all in the name of some 'greater good' or whatever. A desire to protect your friends. And at the end of it all, you have the gall to take my SOUL, and try to become friends with me? You want to know what my problem is? My problem is you! You and your entire filthy species. My problem is that you threw everything away for some naive want. My problem is that, even after everything I did to my family, most of all Asriel, I'm not suffering in the darkest pits of Tartarus!"

Chara breathed heavily as she finished, the burning of her flame of hatred bringing a subtle wetness to her eyes again. After a few seconds, she turned away and floated into the wall behind her.

"Cha—" Frisk called out, yet his call was ignored.

Looking up at the twinkling gems above, Frisk collapsed to the ground. Bringing his knees up to his chest, he then buried his head in his arms and remained there, the occasional sound of sobbing echoing off the tunnel walls and out the orifices of the surrounding echo flowers.

Emergence : Ghost Fight

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#undertale #undertale au #undertale rho #UTRStory #underearth #emergence

[swanslieutenant]

If the Stars Align - Chapter IV

Summary: The Musketeers AU. Danger lurks around every corner in the French court and as a Musketeer in service of the royal family, Killian’s duty is to protect them from any and all threats. As his relationship with Queen Emma develops into something more than just friendship, threats against the queen escalate and put everything they hold dear into jeopardy.

Rating: M

Content warning for the story: violence, mature themes, minor character death.

Art by @hook-and-star-ink​ , @acaptainswaneternity and @seastarved. Follow this to check all the pieces currently published and give them some love!  

Catch Up: ch1, ch2, ch3

AO3: ch4

Once a year, the queen makes a visit to the Bastille, Paris’ infamous jail, to pardon some of the prisoners convicted of lesser crimes. It’s risky business, sending the queen herself to the most dangerous jail in Paris, but it is a long-held tradition and the monarchy is nothing if not traditional. This also shows a softer side of the monarchy, a part of the game to keep the populace content, a game that these days has never been more important with an unpopular war raging on at this very moment.

Killian shifts his weight from one foot to the other as he stands with the other Musketeers in the guards’ courtyard of the Bastille, waiting for the queen’s carriage to arrive. The day is hot, bright and sunny, the sun beating down on the stone courtyard, the heat trapped by the stones and making it feel hotter than it really is. Killian, in his heavy leathers with more weapons than he can count strapped to his body, is already sweating and uncomfortable in the heat.

The Musketeers are all armed to the teeth, in case anyone tries something. Only the pardoned criminals will be out in the courtyard when Emma arrives and though they are only moments away from freedom, Killian doesn’t trust them as far as he can throw them.

He tugs at the fleur-de-lis pauldron on his right shoulder, the marker of his position as a Musketeer. He’s worn it for a long time, but today it seems tighter than normal, digging tightly into his shoulder. The nerves he thought he’d quenched over the past few weeks on the job have returned tenfold. He’s wanting for a swig of rum from the flask in his pocket, a swig of liquid courage, and if the others weren’t right beside him, he’d probably do it. Guarding the queen at the Bastille is different than any hunt or ball or dinner party; this is a prison full of murderers and thieves and frauds where, at any moment, anything could change.

Before he joined the Musketeers, while on the run from the English navy who sought to hang him for desertion, Killian spent some time amongst men like this. Some criminals want return to a wife or a family after they’ve served their time, but others are vengeful and want to make a name for themselves by going down in a blaze of glory ... and there’s no better blazing path of glory than trying to attack a queen.

The Musketeers did a sweep of the main level of the Bastille that morning, figuring out where the exits and entrances are, how sturdy the locked doors leading to the cells are, how protected Emma will be at all times during her visit. Though Captain Humbert was satisfied with the prison’s protective measures, Killian still feels on edge, his hand already hovering over the hilt of his sword and Emma’s not even here yet.

He must look worse than he feels because Will, the one who usually rolls his eyes at Killian’s nerves, clears his throat beside him.

“Take a breath, mate. It’ll be fine. I was here last year, there were no problems. She’ll be in and out.”

Killian nods, but Will’s reassurances do little for him with his own experiences. But luckily, the sound of a rumbling carriage breaks Killian out of his thoughts, and he snaps to attention as the queen’s carriage pulls into the courtyard. A footman jumps down to open the door and first out is Mary Margaret Whale, the only lady-in-waiting Emma brought with her today, reaching her hand out to help Emma down.

She’s dressed modestly today in a simple lilac gown, her hair tied back in a simple knot at the base of her head, not a jewel in sight. The head bailiff of the Bastille, Descoteaux, steps forward, bowing low as Emma comes to a stop in front of him.

“Your Majesty,” he murmurs, reaching out to kiss her hand. “Welcome. We are honoured to have you here.”

She smiles, but her eyes are quickly sweeping over the courtyard, at the prison guards in their grey uniforms and the Musketeers with their armour and weapons, and it’s only then that she addresses Descoteaux.

“Thank you for the kind welcome. Shall we begin?”

The halls of the Bastille are quiet as Descoteaux leads Emma, Mary Margaret, and the Musketeers to the prisoners’ courtyard. It’s a bit unnerving – Killian would expect nothing but noise and activity at a prison, but the only sound is the clack of their shoes as they make their way through the narrow, dark halls.

In the courtyard, the prisoners to be pardoned have been assembled in a single file line as they await the queen’s arrival. They’re grimy and dirty, chained together by hand and foot, and none of them even look over as Emma and the Musketeers emerge at the top of the stone steps.

Emma’s shoulders tense, her mouth thinning into a line and eyes widening in shock the sight of the prisoners. While Descoteaux prattles on about how the Bastille is such a humane prison (the best in all France, I swear it, Your Majesty), Emma’s face darkens. The men, filthy, skinny, miserable, tell a very different story.

Descoteaux leads her down the steps, out to walk by the prisoners, to let them say their thanks to her in person. Killian stiffens – this was his least favourite part of the day’s events, letting her get so close – but Captain Humbert keeps a close step behind her, hand on the sword at his belt. The other Musketeers, including Killian, spread out join the guards already in place, Killian stopping beside the captain of the Bastille guard, a tough man in his mid-fifties called Captain Edmond. The Bastille guards and the Musketeers line the eastern wall of the courtyard, watching the events with sharp eyes and ready to jump in.

Emma walks slowly by the prisoners, taking a moment to talk to each of them as she passes them small pouches of francs to get them started on their freedom. They still don’t look up to her, but a few murmur ‘God save the queen’, ‘bless you, Majesty’ and ‘thank you for the kindness’ as she passes by.

When Emma reaches the end of the line, oblivious to the dark mood in the courtyard, Descoteaux turns her around with a wide grin and he even claps the nearest prisoner on the back, causing him to nearly fall right over.

“Just a few more minutes, gents, then you’ll be free! Come with me, Your Majesty, we’ll sign the papers for the prisoners’ release in my office.”

Emma sends another sad look towards the prisoners as Descoteaux leads her away, Mary Margaret and Captain Humbert following. They disappear back into the building, and the courtyard falls into an uneasy silence. The only sounds are the shuffling feet of guards and prisoners alike, all restless and waiting. The heat of the day is nearly becoming unbearable, and Killian hopes the bailiff doesn’t keep Emma too long.

A door across the yard opens, and a group of prison guards file into the courtyard. A young guard, a man with short brown hair tucked under a cap and an ill-fitting uniform, leads the others out. He’s swinging a ring of keys over a finger, a smug expression on his face, and goosebumps rise on the back of Killian’s neck.

The young man doesn’t say a word. He just strides right up to the prisoners and tosses the keys to one of them, who flinches in surprise and almost drops them.

“Congrats, mate,” he says, as the man looks to him with wide eyes. “Freedom is yours.”

Killian exchanges a glance with Robin beside him; this was not how the release was discussed earlier. Captain Edmond of the Bastille must agree, as he steps forward, hand dropping to the sword at his belt.

“What is the meaning of this, Berger? The prisoners are not to be released yet!”

The young man, Berger, saunters forward, a twisted smirk on his face as the guards he entered with fan out behind him in a uniform line, hands dropping to their pistols and swords at their belts.

“Sorry, captain,” he says, withdrawing a pistol from his belt and cocking it loudly. “I’ve got my orders.”

The shot explodes from the pistol, the ear shattering crack ricocheting around the courtyard and making it infinitely louder. Captain Edmond crumbles, choking out a cry as he falls to his knees, and collapses face first onto the ground.

For a moment, everyone in the yard is frozen, staring at the bleeding body of the captain, at the growing pool of blood around his torso, at the small cloud of dust rising from where his body thudded to the ground.

And then all hell breaks loose.

Gunfire fills the courtyard as the loyal prison guards run towards the betrayers, roaring in anger and crying out for justice. The newly freed prisoners scatter as the guards descend upon each other, some running towards the gates, while others decide they want a piece of the action too, charging into the fray with no weapons other than their fists.

The Musketeers draw their swords in unison, Killian grabbing his pistol and readying it to fire with his other hand. But before he gets the chance, rough fingers grab the back of his collar, pulling him back so roughly he almost drops his pistol. He whirls, fury on his lips and fists ready to attack, but it’s not a prisoner or a rogue guard – it’s Captain Humbert.

“Protect the queen!” he orders, shoving Killian towards the doorway Emma, Mary Margaret, and the bailiff had disappeared into. “Get her to the carriage and out of here!”

Killian whirls around, darting towards the entrance to the prison. A musket ball comes dangerously close to his head as he weaves a zigzag path to the building, the ball scraping his ear. He ducks, too late, and when he presses a hand up to his ear, his glove comes away spotted with blood.

But there’s no time to focus on that, not when he sees, to his horror, three figures appear in the doorway. Emma, Mary Margaret, and Descoteaux are staring open-mouthed at the chaos, at the screaming, at the freed prisoners, at the echoing shots of musket fire and clanging of swords that until a minute ago was not present.

Emma is the first to snap out of it, eyes focusing on Killian as he approaches. She opens her mouth to speak, but Killian simply grabs her arm and pulls her back into the building and back behind the safety of the stone walls. She gets a hold on the arm of Mary Margaret, pulling her along too, and Mary Margaret shoves herself beside the queen in a protective stance.

The bailiff is not so lucky. There is another deafening musket shot, reverberating through the small hallway and echoing tenfold in Killian’s head, and then the heavy thud of Descoteaux’s body falling back into the building. He is dead before he hits the ground, blood pooling from the wound in his chest and staining his fine linen shirt, eyes staring up to the ceiling and wide from shock.

Mary Margaret gasps, and Emma’s jaw drops open. “Oh my –”

“Nothing to be done for him now,” Killian interrupts grimly, shifting to push the ladies further behind him and peering out the doorway. There is an approaching guard, one of the ones who entered the courtyard with the rogue leader, brandishing a bloody sword with a twisted, manic smile. Killian aims his pistol and fires a shot. It hits true, the man having no chance to even cry out in pain as he crumbles, the bullet ripping its way right through him.

Killian leans out again, peering through the smoke, reloading, when another figure appears in the doorway. Killian nearly hits him over the head with the unloaded pistol before he realizes it’s not another thug – it’s David, bloody and sweaty, and Killian drops his weapon, swearing.

“Do not sneak up on me, David! I could have shot you!”

David completely ignores him, eyes focusing on Mary Margaret and the queen, and he steps further in, shoving Killian to the side.

“Are you alright?”

Both ladies nod, and Emma demands, “What’s going on? Who are those men?”

She makes a move as if to look out the doorway, but the stone wall behind them explodes, spraying bits of chipped rock as another musket shot finds its way through the doorway, and Killian automatically pulls her back to safety. As the dust settles around them, David clears his throat, a tough and determined edge to his eyes, the look of a leader.

“Killian, take the queen to the other exit through the west wing. It’s the quickest route out of here. I’ll take Mary Margaret through the south passage. Best to split up, and confuse them. We’ll meet back in the guard’s courtyard on the south side, okay?”

And without another word, he is whisking Mary Margaret down the hall to the left, and Killian moves into action as well. The doorway is clear (the battle is in full force in the courtyard; he sees Captain Humbert, Will, Lancelot, and Robin engaged in swift sword fights with the rogue guards, and more loyal guards are just now swarming from the upper levels to join the fight) and gestures for Emma to step ahead of him, down the narrow hallway.  

“This way if you please, Your Majesty.”

David has sent them down the jailers’ hallway, and the guards are spilling from their offices like flies. Thankfully, they all appear to be loyalists and no one makes a motion to stop him or Emma as they fly though the corridor at break-neck speed.

As they run, seeing the offices empty, Killian considers barricading themselves into one of them, but there is a sudden yell from behind him of “The queen! This way!” that ruins that plan completely.

He quickens his pace, grabbing Emma’s hand to push her ahead of him slightly. He’s hoping that the guards who just fled their offices are able to hold off the thugs. That hope is short-lived; there is a deafening gun shot and the wall in front of him explodes as a bullet narrowly misses Emma’s shoulder. She screams, ducking as wood splinters and plaster rains over her, and Killian turns over his shoulder, firing off a shot into a group of three thugs.

It hits the man in the centre, and he drops like a rock. The other two yell in anger as they get tangled up with him, resulting in all three of them crumbled in a heap.

Killian and Emma keep running, the sounds of the furious thugs catching up to them far too quickly. Killian is starting to wonder how the hell they’re going to make it all the way to the other side of the building when he spots a small alcove ahead.

It’s risky coming to a stop, but he can hear the roars of fury and boot stomps getting closer behind them, and it’s the best option they have now.

The alcove is tucked into a corner, draped in shadows by the way its situated, and he heads immediately for it. Emma is bewildered as pulls her so sharply in a different direction, but her expression soon clears when she sees the alcove and she steps ahead of him into the shadows. Killian sweeps her heavy skirts out of the way as he slides in in front of her, trying to press both of them as far back into the darkness as he can.

There’s not much room in the alcove, though, and he has to twist so they’re face-to-face, so close Killian can feel her breath on his face. He wraps an arm around her, tucking her further into the shadows, and Emma grips his arms tightly as the clatter of footsteps come even closer now.

The men’s voices become clearer too, and Killian hears distinctly the words ‘the queen’ and ‘this way.’ Emma’s nails dig into his bicep through all the leather he’s wearing, no doubt leaving bruises in their wake, but Killian tightens his own hold around her shoulders, pulling her closer.

They’re both holding their breath now as the two men, bloody and furious, come around the corner. But neither man even glances towards the alcove, hidden as it is in the corner. They continue down the hallway, and it’s not until they’re gone from sight and their footsteps have faded from earshot that either Killian or Emma breathe again.

“Come on,” Killian whispers, tugging Emma out of the alcove. “We need to move.”

But she grabs his arm before he gets to far, twisting him to face her again. To his surprise, her hand reaches up to his face, fingers brushing across his cheek and as her fingers probe at his skin, he flinches in pain. In all the chaos, he forgot all about the bullet that grazed him outside.

“What happened to you? Is it serious?”

He shakes his head, and reaches up to cover her hand with his own. “Just a scratch, love. Now, come on, let’s go.”

Though the two thugs who were after them are gone, Killian is still cautious, listening for any sound, but they appear to have gone a different route. He and Emma keep on their route out of the prison, and finally reach the south courtyard, to where Emma’s carriage is ready and awaiting.

The footmen have been alerted to the calamity, horses already pawing at the ground in eagerness to depart. The dark-haired figure of Mary Margaret is already inside the carriage, and Killian spots David a few feet away, guarding it with his pistol out and ready to fire.

Both light up with relief as Killian and Emma appear in the doorway, and Killian pushes Emma forward towards the carriage. She goes, but has only managed to make it halfway out into the dusty courtyard before David’s expression drops.

“Behind you!”

The rogue guard, Berger, who led the charge of the mutinous guards, is standing in the doorway that Killian and Emma just exited from, raising his pistol and aiming right for Emma, the gun already cocked.

Killian doesn’t have the time to think. He sprints to Emma, grabbing her around the waist and tackling her to the ground, one hand reaching around her to help with the fall, the other pulling her closer to him as they hit the ground with a heavy thud.

Emma is winded, gasping as all the breath is forced from her lungs as she lands heavily on her back, but it’s not a moment too soon. A loud shot explodes from behind them, the sound deafening, and Killian knows without a doubt it would have struck Emma if she’d been standing.

Before the smoke has even drifted away, Killian starts to twist off Emma, determined to get to his feet to shoot back at the man. But another pistol fires, and Emma grabs him, gripping the lapels of his collar tightly, and pulls him back down.

Ahead of them, David drops his still-smoking gun and draws his sword. Berger lets out a barking laugh, throwing his own musket to the side, and striding forward, drawing his own sword.

“You’re not even a Musketeer,” he sneers, gesturing to David’s shoulder and the lack of the fleur-de-lis pauldron. “You think you can best me?”

David doesn’t answer, eyes focused as he flicks his sword around his wrist in a single fluid motion as he approaches Berger, the two men starting to circle each other.

Killian feels rather useless, just lying there on the ground, but Emma’s grip on him is strong, and besides – this is David’s fight. His face is taut with determination, the sword in his hand steady, and though he’s not a Musketeer, his abilities surely are. 

Berger makes the first move, lashing out with a ferocious swing. David parries, their metal swords screeching at the contact. He pushes forward, forcing Berger a step backwards. They swing out at each other again, countering and feinting and blocking and dodging across the courtyard.

As their fight intensifies, swinging and thrashing, Berger’s smug expression disappears, replaced with a flicker of surprise and alarm. He drops all pretense of playing fair, and swings his fist out, smacking David on the side of his face.

Killian and Emma both inhale a sharp breath as his head snaps back, blood spraying from his mouth. Killian is ready to jump up and pummel Berger, but David is already looking back to him, wiping the blood away with a furious glare. The swordfight resumes, more ferocious than ever, and Killian knows without a doubt that only one man will emerge alive from this.

And luck must be on David’s side, for Berger makes a mistake; he feints left, expecting David to follow him, but Killian recognizes the move as one that the Musketeers were working on yesterday at the barracks with the younger recruits, and David doesn’t fall for it. With a grim flash of victory in his eyes, he steps forward, thrusting his sword upwards and right into the Berger’s stomach.

Berger screams, a horrible sound that makes Killian’s skin crawl and his stomach turn. Under him, Emma tenses, pressing her face into his shoulder and tightening her grip on his collar, and he hears her mutter a curse.

David pulls his sword free from Berger with almost a worse sound than his scream, and the man stumbles away from David, pressing his hands to his stomach. Killian can’t see the extent of the damage from his angle, but the man’s bloodied hands and unsteady gait tell him exactly who has won this fight. Berger collapses onto the ground, with a gurgled cry and the last spark of life is gone before he’s hit the ground.

As the dust rises from around Berger’s body, an unnerving silence settles over the courtyard. Killian finally lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, and he shifts enough to glance down to Emma.

She’s squeezed her eyes shut, and Killian brushes a strand of hair away from her face.

“It’s okay. It’s over.”

She opens her eyes, and seeks out his own instantly, her eyes so wide in fear nearly all of the green replaced with black. He pushes aside more of her errant hair with a reassuring smile and she finally relaxes, releasing her hands from his collar and dropping her head back onto the dirt with a sigh of relief. Killian takes that as his cue to stand up, and he pushes himself off her, offering her a hand to stand too which she accepts. Her gown is completely covered in dirt from the courtyard and ripped from where Killian stood on it when he tackled her.

She doesn’t let go of him when she’s standing, opening her mouth to say something, but Mary Margaret appears then. She grabs onto Emma, pulling her hands free from Killian’s, and wraps her in a tight embrace, half in sobs already.

Killian turns away, giving them a moment, and strides over to David. He’s staring at the dead body of the man, his face pale and grim.

“Good job, mate,” Killian says, clapping him on the shoulder.” You saved us. You saved the queen.”

David smiles grimly, and shakes his head. “Let’s just get out of here,” he says, marching over to the carriage, picking up his discarded pistol and opening the carriage door. “Before I have to kill anyone else.”

Emma and Mary Margaret return to the carriage now, the footmen ushering them quickly in. When they’re safely inside, the carriage peels through the open gates, the horses galloping footsteps raising dust and dirt from the cobblestones. David and Killian mount their own horses, and ride out furiously after it.

And in everyone’s haste to get away from the Bastille, minds totally focused on the safe return to the Louvre, away from the violence and bloodshed, no one notices the woman watching their departure from a shadowed corner across the street, an angry flash in her eyes as the carriage escapes the Bastille, its royal occupant unharmed.

#cs ff #csbb #captain swan #captain swan big bang #cs mc ff #fic: if the stars align

[wanderingheartana]

— ✗ SCRIPTED. — ✗ Time Period: Late September, 2014. — ✗ TW: Mentions of a serious illness and depression. A month ago, she’d been planning her next trip at the tail end of the one she’d been currently having. She’d been thinking about the sights she could see, reviewing the language and repeating phrases to herself while she was doing her daily activities and building up her excitement for it. She’d been thinking about the different culture and the ways she could immerse herself in it. As was customary for, she had decided to spend a night or two at home in the palace with her parents with her next trip coming up. It was a means of going on about the different royals she’d meet, talk about getting to know their people. Which of course was her way of getting her parents to settle down and believe she still had any interest at all in the throne. It was her way of keeping them off her back about marriage alliances and taking on more responsibilities. As long as they thought she was acting more like a diplomat than a nomad, they didn’t make her stay home. But this time had been different. After the last time she’d gone out, she’d convinced the royals who’d been hosting her to go do some of the activities in the main parts of the town they resided in. Activities that weren’t conventional for royals by any means. It hadn’t seem to upset them, but word had gone back to her mother and father about her comfort with the commoners, her lack of the eloquence and respect for her own title. She’d gotten a mouthful as soon as she’d gotten home. Her parents were furious. They told her she wasn’t just degrading herself, but respecting all royals who had come before her, those who had struggled to get power and change their country for the better. They laid into her, even going as far to talk about the shame they were bringing about them. She felt guilt, that much was true, but not enough for her to want to stop. When she had been coming back from the edge of death, what kept her in the realm of the living was traveling. It’d brought her back to life, and she told her parents that much. They didn’t like it. They told her it was time to stay home for a while. Instead of fighting with them, she decided trying to sneak off in the middle of the night was the answer. It definitely wasn’t the right one. When she got caught, she got another earful. And they finally told her their plan for her. There had been a new program for Royals who’d lost their way, and they’d been reluctant about putting her or her brother in it, but with her lack of respect for her title, they knew she needed it. And with that and a phone call, she’d been enrolled. Within a week she had been shipped off to the place. It’d been a month since then, and Ana had adapted to the schedule, but it didn’t mean she liked it. She was certain her and the others of their small program were all in complete agreement that the place – while presented with the best intention – was a glorified, dressed-up prison. She hated every minute she spent there. They were barely allowed out, restricted by curfews and early wake ups. Even their meals were planned. It was too much like before, when she’d been on practical house arrest after first coming back to the hospital. She had even gone back to her coping strategies from then. A lot of which included isolating herself in her room her parents had decorated like the one back home and burying her nose in a book. Or going out to the courtyard or garden when she thought she might spiral into a black hole if she stared at those four walls anymore. It was far, far too much like home. And not in a good way. As much as she understood the teachers, guards, janitors, chefs and even the headmistress were just doing their jobs, it didn’t make the fact that she was a prisoner to her royal life any easier to swallow. After a morning of classes that included the most boring parts of the history of her country and an etiquette class, she was finally dismissed for lunch. Even if the food was prepared in a flashy style and was consider high end, she would have preferred sampling dishes from street vendors and local restaurants like she always did when she was travelling. It wasn’t as if she knew how to cook and fend for herself when it came to that aspect anyway. She’d fetched herself a salad, a vegetable wrap and one of the tarts being served with dessert before heading to a seat in the back of the cafeteria, as close to the door as she could get. Usually, the royals all left around the same time and she hated being stuck in the crowd between them all, so she tried to eat quickly and head out early to read before class. Staying true to her usual schedule, she started eating as soon as she sat down, sitting somewhat stiffly and keep an eye on the other students in the cafeteria. She was in the middle of stabbing at the spinach leaves in her bowl when she spotted a man walking her way. He was familiar, one of the other royals and he was in a few of her more generic classes, not that he ever showed up. From what she heard of the gossip from other royals, he was a hard ticket. She wasn’t sure of the extent of it, since she was usually only overhearing the gossip and never quite searching for details, but she could put it together. She knew how they’d all been raised, she also knew she’d just as likely be just another princess blowing all the money she had on dresses and tiaras if she hadn’t gotten sick like she did. So she certainly tried hard to not to judge those who simply behaved the way they’d been taught to. Ana highly suspected the man was on his way out, but much to her surprise, he wasn’t. Instead, as if he didn’t quite know what he was doing he sat right down beside her. She had spent seven years out of the circuit. She wasn’t raised alongside the other royals. And they hadn’t forgotten it. Even if her presences at the palaces and dinners and parties had become more frequent after she’d gotten better, she wasn’t one of her peers. Most times they just ignored her now that they’d realized she wasn’t much into the things they were. But he wasn’t, for some reason. “Hello,” she said, trying to hide her awkward nature. She might have been able to easily converse with commoners, but royals like hers? She’d forgotten the language a long time ago. Sitting up a little straighter, she did her best a covering her stiff posture and her clear discomfort. This seemed to amuse him. A lopsided grin formed on his lips. This only made her more uncomfortable. Most people sized her up, trying to decide if she was a threat, or if perhaps she was prey – at least most royals did. None of them smiled at her liked that. They usually dismissed her pretty quickly. And she was inclined to agree with such an assessment. Though her appearance had improved, and her thin, frail body had filled out, the dark circles under her eyes had gone away, and her hair had grown back, she was still different. She still had the ugly scars, she still was paler than others, and her body was still thinner than it might have been if she hadn’t been sick once. It was hard to see herself as beautiful with all that. And she didn’t think other people would either. Having him smile at her like that, it was confusing, because people didn’t smile like that at people at her. “My name is Ryder Brooks, and you’re Anastasia,” he introduced himself, as well as making it clear he knew her, holding out his hand. Warily, she carefully took his hand, shaking it light. In a fluid motion, he took her hand and brought it to his lips, placing a kiss on the back of it. Her cheeks flushed a red color and she looked down to hide it. Nineteen years old and blushing like a school girl. Internally she scolded herself. “Anastasia Deutch, yes,” she commented carefully, trying not to seem too overly awkward. All the while she was lecturing herself about how stiff she likely seemed. How was it she could carry on the most complex conversations with the people she met on the street but could barely hold her own in a room full of the people that she was considered one of? “I have to admit, I’ve seen you in our general history class a few times, it’s hard to ignore someone so beautiful,” not missing a beat, confidence radiating off of him, he delivered the sentence without a hitch. Something she’d never been able to do with another royal. Once again, she was looking down at her tray, her hands now interlocked on her lap, fidgeting nervously. Her face was red once more. Even though she didn’t want it to be, and didn’t quite trust the man in front of her. Maybe he was just someone who decided she was open and vulnerable enough to get in some sort of marriage alliance. “I’m sure there’s people in our class far more distracting,” it might have gotten her point across if she hadn’t pretty much stammered her way through the whole sentence instead of delivering it with the cold ease she’d wanted it to come out with. “I’m inclined to disagree. The others are looking for the attention, always sitting in the front, talking in class or answering every question they can. Everyone does it in a different way. But not you. You sit in the back, trying to blend in with the others. You don’t want to be noticed. But you’re worth noticing,” he seemed amused by his initial observance of her. And he wasn’t necessarily wrong either, aside from the last part. A fact that made her far more uncomfortable. “I just like the seat,” she tried to dismiss the truth in his words. Deception was something she was good at. Pretending she was still interested in the throne, telling her doctors and parents she was feeling much better to get them to stop hovering – lying had become a skill set that was necessary if she wanted to live the life she wanted. But she was a lot more believable when she wasn’t an awkward, flustered mess. An amused chuckle left him. She let her green eyes look up from her salad – where they’d been glued as she tried to get that blush to fade – she took him in, as carefully as possible. He was handsome, but he wasn’t necessarily dressed up and styled to each and every strand out of place like most royals usually were. He was more rugged in a way. His face was still clean shaven and his hair probably had some sort of gel in it, but every bit of him was designed to look a certain way. With a well-defined jawline and bright blue eyes, she’d have a hard time admitting he wasn’t handsome. A thought which just made her feel more heat rising to her cheeks. Thankfully, he didn’t point it out – a small mercy on her part. “I suppose you’re not the type for dancing are you?” He asked with that little lopsided grin taking over his features again. “What do you mean?” She asked, thankful for the change of subject, as confused as she was about it. At least this one didn’t make her feel like she’d turn to the shade of a cherry tomato. “The Black and White Ball that’s coming up, I’m guessing you’re not planning on going,” he motioned to one of the posters on the wall behind her. She glanced back at for a moment. It was elaborately designed, featuring a flashy display of photos. She tried not to sigh. “No, it’s not really my thing,” she told him. Every time she’d gone to one of those events back home, she had been bored out of her mind during every minute. It was hours of time she had to spend standing perfectly straight under hundreds of layers of fabric as she talked about all the plans for her country – none of which were actually her ideas but instead ones her parents planned on pushing. Especially after she was just recovering, she’d hated them. Her parents would often have her spending time with a boy her age they’d deemed fit for her to one day wed. A boy who held her at arms-length and tried to ignore her short hair while clearly eyeing another girl that was much prettier. Just the idea of another of those events made her want to crawl out of her skin. “I didn’t think it was. Usually it’s just a bunch of social climbers staking out every chance they can get to show off all the many things they own and try to make the scripts coming off their lips seem natural,” he seemed amused by this. That comment took her aback. Most royals didn’t ever talk about other royals in such a way. The social climbing thing maybe, but usually the scripted laws and inspirational ideas were never brought up. It was like a secret they all knew but never mentioned. It kind of shocked her he’d do such a thing. “That’s an unpopular opinion,” she stated carefully, her instincts telling her to be careful with what she said, even though the better part of her was inclined to agree. She scanned him over again, trying not to look too much like she was trying to figure him out. He was a royal, but he didn’t act like one. “You’re right, it is. But there’s so few original thinkers in this world I find it important that the few who are blessed with such gifts use them,” he remarked, his smug nature showing a bit. He clearly thought himself to be one of those original thinkers. Even though she wouldn’t admit it at risk of stroking his ego, she was inclined to agree. At least out of the people she’d interacted with so far. Or maybe they shared such thoughts too, but were just better at hiding them. “You know what is good at those events though. The food. Dessert and candy bars make the events tolerable.” She grinned a little at that, memories of her childhood of indulging on cupcakes all night during the event and dancing off her sugar rush with her parents and the children her age playing in her mind. Sure, she’d have a bad stomach later, but it didn’t stop her from doing it all over again next time at the parties. “Right again,” she said, not as much awkwardness in her comment this time, thankfully. “And while all those tasty treats will probably be served as desserts for our upcoming meals the following day, they won’t be quite as good after sitting out for the better part of night,” he trailed off. “You’re probably right,” she said carefully. Maybe if he’d been just another person like those she usually met on her travels, she might have picked up on what he was saying, but he was a royal, and she was fairly unsure of what he was getting at. Much to her confusion, he reached for the flower centerpiece sitting on the table. Just another decoration meant to try and imitate a fancy hotel or the palaces back home. She’d noticed they always had fresh flower arrangements on every table. Today it was a medley of roses and baby’s breath. With ease, he picked out one of the white roses. “What are you doing?” She asked him. She wasn’t sure if he would get a scolding for such a thing or not. She didn’t think any other royal had ever thought of doing such a thing. Though, they were likely all tossed out after the day was done anyway. It was probably better off with whatever he planned to do it. Instead of answering right away, he held out the rose to her. She blinked a couple of times before reaching out uncertainly, taking it from him. “I’m asking you if you might be able to put up with the politics and overdressed princes and princesses at the ball in favor of the cupcakes and the company,” he said to her rather smoothly, a full grin on his lips. It took her just a second longer than it would usually would to realize what he was saying. And by then a full-fledged blush that /definitely/ made her resemble a cherry tomato took over her face. “I’m asking, if you’d do me the honor of going to the ball as my date,” he clarified, proud as ever of himself. Anastasia was pretty blown away. It wasn’t like she hadn’t gotten such questions before, but none of them had been built up to by a conversation about more than just basic politics, or by someone who looked like he did. She tried to resist the urge to curl up in a ball to hide the pathetic blush on her face. Nineteen years old, she reminded herself. Maybe it was the shock, or maybe it was the fact that she was genuinely impressed with him, but the words left her lips before she could stop them. “Alright,” she stammered out, making her red she was sure. She definitely felt like going to hide somewhere. As if he was determined to make her as red as possible, he stood up and gave her a bow that she could tell was a mock of what was consider appropriate by the amusement on his face. “I will see you at the ball then, Princess Anastasia,” he winked at her, and without another word, turned around and left the cafeteria, leaving her in what she was sure was a state of shock.

#solos

[bigtinyworldtravel]

Cape Town is a vibrant city with a mix of cultures, beautiful landscapes, beaches, and plenty of activities. With only 8 days, you should be able to get a good feel for the mother city and what it is all about. Our itinerary is based purely on what we did while we were there, but we also include some things we missed in case you have time to see them yourself. We’ve included activity costs and some safety precautions to help you plan your trip.

Day 1 – Table Mountain

Everyone goes to Table Mountain as the views from the top are incredible. You can hike it yourself, or take a cable car to the top. We did both as we hiked to near the top on our first attempt, and turned back because it was clouded in. There are several hiking routes up the mountain, some are longer, some more difficult, but all get you to the same spot. It can be more cloudy in the winter and even rainy, so plan accordingly on your route and know when to turn around if things get rough.

A week later we took the cable car up as we felt we already hiked enough the first time and the weather improved. At the top you can see the ocean and the City Bowl or CBD. The ride up was pretty cool as the entire cabin spun in a circle so it didn’t matter where you were standing, the views would eventually come to you. There are plenty of small trails near the cable car that offer different vantage points. On days when it is too windy, the cable car will be closed and you will have to hike both ways. This closure can even happen mid-day, so if the wind starts picking up, getting back down quickly will be your priority.

Fun Fact: Table Mountain is over 260 million years old which is older than the Andes, the Rockies, the alps and the Himalayas.

Cost

The cost is free if you hike one of the many trails leading to the top. If you prefer the cable ride, the price varies depending on the time of day, whether or not you are a South African citizen, and the age of the person. You can find the latest information here for pricing. Table Mountain Rates

Safety Precautions

Make sure your car is parked in a well traveled area and you leave absolutely nothing visible in the vehicle. Lock your doors, and physically check that they actually did lock. We had our bags stolen from our car even though we “thought” the doors locked properly.

If you have a nice camera, you can take them, but be discrete and don’t leave it on your shoulder. If thieves see you have this, you can expect to lose it. Do not take any valuables you do not have insured.

Travel in a larger group if possible, especially if you have expensive equipment with you.

Bring as little as possible. If you don’t need it and don’t want to lose it, leave it at your locked accommodation in a room safe.

Check the weather before you go and plan according, things can change very quickly

If possible, let someone know you are going and when to expect you back

Day 2 – Boulders Beach

Boulders Beach is near Simon’s Town which is one of South Africa’s oldest towns and a former naval base. The beach itself is loaded with thousands of cute little penguins doing what penguins do. Entertain humans! The beach also has boulders that are 540 million years old. While we were there, the area was crowded with people so we suggest you go early to beat the tour buses. Seasonality does matter, although it was still busy during the off season of winter.

Experiencing the massive amount of penguins in the colony was pretty amazing. We have heard that you can go to nearby beaches and avoid the fee, but you will not see as many. That may be okay for some, but for us it was completely worth it to get closer to them. So cute!

Fun Fact: When African Penguins dive, the go down to 30m on average, but as deep as 130m.

Cost – R35 for adults and R10 for children under 10

Safety Precautions

Do not get to close to the penguins as they have razor sharp beaks that could hurt you.

Day 3 – Cape Point

Cape Point was a lovely place to go see as it is the most southwestern point on the continent. It is not however the southernmost point as some may claim. It is home to some beautiful beaches, a lighthouse, and sea cliffs 200 meters above sea level. It also has a funicular, but we like hiking so that was out of the question. The landscape is completely stunning. You can hike to the point at either the lighthouse keepers trail or the Cape of Good Hope trail. The lighthouse keepers trail is what we hiked, but we visited the trail-head for the Cape of Good Hope trail mostly for the cool sign.

We spent quite a bit of time here hiking around and getting some killer views. The mix of clouds, sun, and the light see breeze were magical. We sure were tired as we didn’t follow the tourist route the whole time, we like the odd pathways.

Fun Fact: Cape Point air is among the cleanest in the world and houses an atmospheric research center.

Cost

The cost to get into the park is quite expensive for international visitors at R303 per person. There are additional costs if you want to ride the funicular. See all of the latest pricing info at this website: Cape Point Entry Fee

Safety Precautions

Beware of the baboons that hang around the parking areas. They like to steal things so do not leave any windows open and be careful when opening doors. They like to charge in, take your things, and run off with them. They are cute to look at, but most deserve some prison time. These are mostly in the lower parking lot near the water, but can be anywhere around the cape. Don’t do this!

Day 4 – V&A Waterfront

This waterfront area is home to many shops, restaurants and is the gateway to many tourist activities. Boats leave here daily to Robben Island where Nelson Mandela was held. You can book helicopter tours or boat cruises from this location. We spent most of our time here shopping and having a nice meal. It is a little slice of Europe on the South African coast. It was a good place to relax from all of the hiking and sightseeing

Fun Fact: The clock tower in V&A Waterfront was built in 1882.

Safety Precautions

This area is very safe compared with many areas of Cape Town. It is one of the most protected areas of town with security everywhere. Still, you aren’t immune to theft, so keep your belongings safe and know your surroundings well. And don’t get eaten by a lion!

Day 5 – Kirstenbosch Gardens

This was one of our favorite places to visit in Cape Town. The Kirstenbosch Gardens are well maintained and very beautiful. There are so many exotic plants to see in this garden, and you get a wonderful view of Table Mountain in the background. There is a bridge that acts as a viewing platform to get a top-down look at some of the gardens.  There are so many paths to explore that you could spend a whole day here. When you are done, they have a restaurant where you can relax and enjoy the view while you eat.

Fun Fact: It is the first garden in the world to be included in a natural world heritage site.

Cost R25 for South African residents and R40 for non-residents

Safety Precautions

This place is fee based and full mostly of tourists. We were there with our expensive cameras out the whole time, and it felt pretty safe. Use Table Mountain safety precautions if you decide to hike up the mountain from here.

Day 6 – Truth Coffee and Bo-Kaap

We started our day going to Truth Coffee. They had an excellent menu for breakfast and the coffee was very good too. The shop was steampunk themed where all staff members were decked out in steampunk clothing (awesome), and the decor of the shop matched. It is not far from Bo-Kaap and completely worth the experience.

Bo-Kaap was built largely for artisans of Cape Town, but subsequently occupied by people of Muslim faith. Bo-Kaap is known mostly for its colorful buildings. Most people go here for the photographs, but there is also a museum to learn some of the history of the area and its influences. Definitely get the photos while you are there, and go early to avoid the crowds. You don’t need a lot of time here so you can keep exploring the city for the rest of the day.

Fun Fact: The houses in Bo-Kaap were originally painted white. The houses were painted different colors as a symbol of freedom by former slaves.

Cost R20 for Adults for Museum Only

Safety Precautions

Inside Truth coffee and around Bo-Kaap you should be just fine for the most part. Feel the areas out and keep your valuables safe.

Day 7 – Stellenbosch Wine Tour

Going to Stellenbosch can be overwhelming with so many vineyards to choose from. We went to Jordan Wine Estate and that was a great choice. It had very nice views and was a nice place to sip wine while taking in the air of the countryside. We tried a few wines that were excellent and relaxed. It has the perfect climate for wine and also for visiting year-round.

Fun Fact: Stellenbosch is the second oldest town in South Africa. Cape town was the first.

Safety Precautions

Just the obvious do not drink too much and drive. Other than that you should be fine in the vineyards. Enjoy yourself!

Day 8 – Castle of Good Hope

The Dutch settled the area near the Cape of Good Hope to use a stopping point for ships traveling from Asia to Europe.  The castle was put in place to help defend the port in case of an attach from the British.  Today there are two museums in the Castle that take you through the history, and you can also walk most of the grounds of the castle and tour the inside as well. We spent a lot more time here than we expected, but it was worth it. If you time it right, they also fire off canons a couple times per day. We unfortunately didn’t get to see this.

The castle grounds were nice as you could walk up to the top and see the views around you. We spent plenty of time up there, as well as the courtyard area. The place wasn’t overcrowded with tourists either, so you could feel at ease when exploring the area.

Fun Fact: They painted the castle yellow to survive the African sun

Cost R50 for adults and R25 for seniors and children

Safety Precautions

Inside the castle grounds, you should be fine. Outside of the grounds exercise the same precautions you would at Table Mountain as it is near the central station where petty crimes happen often.

Itinerary Map

We’ve created a map that you can use to plan your trip to Cape Town. It shows all of the places we listed above.

8 Day Itinerary Cape Town

Things for Next Time

Township Tour – Langa or Khayelitsha (go with a guide)

Drive the Garden Route and Chapman’s Peak

Hike Lion’s Head

Where have you been in Cape Town? Let us know some other places to see when you visit.

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  #CapeTown is an amazing city full of various #cultures and activities to keep you busy. Here is our 8 Day Itinerary to Cape Town. Cape Town is a vibrant city with a mix of cultures, beautiful landscapes, beaches, and plenty of activities.

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