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lets-try-some-writing · 1 year

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TFP bots if humans could also have outliers and the kids each have a power though none of them want to talk about it because the popular human opinion on these individuals is that they’re dangerous and worry the bots might share the opinion if they find out.

*deranged laugh* This is was so much fun to write about. I hope you like what I came up with!

Human Outliers

Due to a random series of mutations within human DNA, occasionally there are children born with abilities that defy usual biology. These children are almost always feared by the general population and put into programs specially made to help them control their abilities. Jack, Miko, and Rafael happen to be outliers, and each of them have kept their abilities secret from those not required to know for their own reasons.

Jack

Jack's outlier ability is somewhat of a classic and not too out of the ordinary when it comes to powers. He has superhuman strength, and at the cost of needing to consume copious amounts of food, can even match the bots in power if he pushes himself. However growing up with his outlier ability was not an easy experience for him.

His father walked out on him and his mother as soon as his power manifested. And all throughout his younger years he suffered from anger issues, breaking things and even harming his mother on occasion before he learned to control himself. Since he was very little he has feared his power and has purposefully avoided taking in any serious calories for fear of hurting others. Due to his hesitance to take in any more energy than necessary, he is a rather weak teen, with no significant muscle mass and painfully thin by normal standards.

He desperately wants to be normal and not to be "cursed" with his abnormal ability. He fears touching others and prefers to keep several feet between him and anyone else even though he is limiting his intake. Meeting Miko and Rafael have helped him feel a little less out of place, but if given the option he would still gladly give up his outlier ability.

Rafael

Rafael's outlier ability has caused him much distress due to how taxing it is for him to use and how dangerous it can be if he isn't careful. He is capable of infiltrating the minds of others and implementing thoughts, desires, and commands. It is a form of mind control, but one which is not the easiest to use as he is forced to fight the mind he is attempting to influence.

Due to the fact that his outlier ability was active from birth, he was kept in solitude for most of his infancy, only ever associating with his parents. Specialists came and taught him how to control his power all throughout his toddler years alongside teaching him normal school subjects for his age group. However there were still accidents, and unfortunately he broke the mind of another during a temper tantrum. Since then he has refused to use his power seriously, only ever suggesting things to the minds of others and never trying to take full control.

He does not hate his outlier ability, he has had it since birth and views it as another, albeit far more dangerous, limb. However his gift has led him to fall further into his studies instead of developing actual human connections. Jack and Miko are his only human friends as their outlier abilities make it rather difficult to invade their minds by accident.

Miko

MIko's outlier ability is highly sought after but also rather inconvenient for her. She is capable of short range teleportation, being able to teleport to any location in her field of vision. This ability has not been easy to learn how to use though. Not only does it exhaust her mentally, but far too often she ends up overshooting if she is unfamiliar with the area.

Her ability came in late by outlier standards. She was around eight when her power finally showed itself, as such she is still learning how to use it properly. She has gotten stuck in tight spaces, almost fallen off several high ledges, and involuntarily ended up teleporting, nearly getting her killed via incoming cars and other hazards. To combat this, she is required to wear special glasses that adjust her vision in such a way that she can't teleport without first taking them off. Even with them on, she still randomly can find herself teleporting if she is familiar with the area and a little too excited to get from point A to point B.

Miko loves her outlier ability and thinks it is the best thing ever. However she also is not fond of showing it off because of the stigma surrounding outliers. She has lost one too many friends after finally feeling comfortable enough to show them her gift. As such she likes hanging around Rafael and Jack more than anyone else. They don't judge and she gets to help them be more comfortable with themselves. It's a win win situation in her book.

The Bots Reactions to Outliers

The Autobots find the concept of outliers among an organic species to be downright fascinating. Optimus sees the outlier powers as a gift from the human creator god, whoever that might be. The gifts, in his mind, being intended to help protect the rather fragile race of humans from other, stronger entities such as Cybertronians. Ratchet thinks it is the strangest mutation of all time, he can't figure out how human biology does what it does regularly and he most certainly doesn't feel like touching outlier biology with a ten foot pole.

Bulkhead and Wheeljack both agree that human outliers are neat. They don't have any deep reasoning behind it, they just like watching an itty bitty organic do incredible physics defying things with no real explanation. Arcee was of the common belief on Cybertron that outliers were dangerous and should be contained. Her belief has translated over to the human outliers, and honestly she thinks it would be best for all parties if outliers were separated from the general population.

Ultra Magnus is in a similar boat to Arcee, he is not fond of outliers, human or Cybertronian, but he does see their use. If he could have his way he would make a separate division in the human government just for the outliers, training them from the moment they got their powers to benefit the people. Smokescreen agrees with Ultra Magnus in that outliers should be kept separate in some way, shape, or form from the public. But he also firmly believes that outliers have as much of a right to autonomy as any other being, as such he finds human outliers fascinating, but ultimately creatures with very specific, predetermined functions.

Bumblebee does not care where outlier abilities come from or what they do. All that matters to him is that the person with the powers, human or Cybertronian, takes care to use their abilities for good. So long as that happens he could care less about what the outliers do with themselves.

The (partial) Reveal

The kids have tried to keep their abilities a secret from the bots since day one. And for the most part, they have succeeded. However there have been instances where their powers were almost revealed by accident.

In one outrageous example of this, Jack literally threw a Vehicon in a desperate attempt to keep Miko and Raf from being hurt. He played it off as a instance of hysterical strength, and for the most part, no bot questioned him. They knew far too little about humans in general to tell weather or not Jack was lying about his biology. Ratchet was the only one who gave Jack a side eyed look, but ultimately he brushed it off as a strange human quirk.

Rafael had a similar close call when he, out of sheer curiosity, decided to try and poke at Bumblebee's mind just to see if it was possible for his powers to apply to an alien lifeform. The scout noticed the intrusion immediately and flipped out, his harsh mental rejection causing Rafael to have a nasty migraine. Bumblebee noticed Rafael's sudden pain and was left wondering what the cause could be. After brushing his mental encounter aside, Bumblebee focused on helping Rafael and didn't think too hard on the possibility of Rafael being entity attempting to mess with his processors.

Miko's instance of almost being caught using her abilities came when she was having a very erratic day, causing her outlier powers to go on the fritz. All throughout her time at base she would appear randomly and without a sound, always looking a little surprised with herself and very much guilty of something. The bots questioned her, but eventually just let it be as anything connected to Miko likely involves no small amount of chaos.

After several more of these close calls getting ignored or brushed off by the bots, the kids started getting more bold when it came to use of their abilities.

Jack casually started lifting furniture and handing Ratchet one of his larger tools when the opportunity presented itself. The medic and most of the base would look at him with wide optics before muttering something along the lines of "humans are terrifying" before leaving the matter alone. Sometimes just for the kick of it Jack will, without even breaking a sweat, bend metal as though he were fiddling with playdough just to watch Ratchet look at him in mixed awe and horror. He even started leaping down from the "human platform" whenever he needed to get to Arcee, once again startling all those present. By now the bots know or at least are very nearly certain that Jack is an outlier, but none of them, not even Arcee, dare say anything, not when Jack is comfortable and finally eating a healthy amount of food.

Rafael, eventually not caring all that much if he was discovered and only wanting to cause as much chaos as possible before getting caught, began sending the bots random probing mental touches throughout the day. Some, like Arcee, Ultra Magnus, and Smokescreen, completely shut him out and scurried off looking rather unsettled every time he tried to touch their minds (Rafael thinks this is hilarious and messes with them whenever he can). Ratchet and Bumblebee stopped giving visible reactions after a while, and as such quickly lost Rafael's interest. As for Optimus, he welcomed Rafael into his mind whenever Rafael attempted to touch his processors. At this point Rafael knows Optimus knows, but neither say anything and Rafael is allowed to send his thoughts to Optimus whenever he desires.

Miko uses her abilities super casually, not even bothering to hide her powers very well but still managing to come up with the most insane excuses for her quick and silent movement. Miko suddenly turns up on Ratchet's work station? What on earth are you talking about Ratchet? She has been there for the last 10 minutes, haven't you noticed? Miko finds her way into the rafters with no visible method of transportation? Don't the bots know she is an excellent climber? Miko find her way onto Optimus shoulder without so much as a peep to alert the Prime? You put her there Optimus, did you forget?

The bots all know at this point, but none say anything. They have learned of how human outliers are treated and have no desire to make the children uncomfortable. Maybe one day they will discuss it outright, but not yet. Let the children play a little longer.

#maccadam #transformers #transformers prime #optimus prime #team prime #ratchet #tfp kids #miko nakadai #rafael esquivel #jack darby #this spiraled really fast #gosh I fell down a rabbit hole with this request #i hope I still met the actual request requirments #well whatever #the kids are gremlins and that is that #gosh my grammer is really bad #this is what i get for writing late at night

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nejackdaw · 11 months

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Now That You've Lost Tomorrow (is yesterday still a friend?)

4.2k words of the Celann backstory in my head

Under the cut for length; not NSFW. Also leave my Jimminy Cricket ass alone, I was thinking about Disney narrators when I started this lmao. It wasn't supposed to be an actual piece send help

Ahem. (Tw animal death) (tw gore)

Born in the Northmoor of Breton High Rock, Celann aged to be a fine man. With a lively, happy home, he was a handsome, good natured jokester with a penchant for bringing smiles wherever he went. Be it through mischief at home, exaggerated peacocking (resulting in clumsy accidents) in front of his beloved fiancee, charitable work through the town, or the song on his lips, he was an easygoing presence that had endeared himself to the people around him. Life was good and grand: he had an easy, do nothing guard job in a happy little town to bring in coin, plans to settle down and start a family, and wanted for nothing between it all. But things started to change when his elder sister prepared to set off on her apprenticeship–dark winds blew in that he, and all of them, would never recover from.

It was an adjustment for everyone with Jehanne recently absent; she'd been gone only a week, but the absence of fabric scraps and 'come look at this for me's, the messily kept tomes and quills that dripped ink, the prospect of not hearing another "you're being ridiculous, it's been weeks! Come join us for dinner!" and her high pitched, victorious cackles as she raced away, knowing she'd magically cleared up everyone's schedules by asking–she'd only been gone a week, but it felt an awfully lot longer than that. Celann kept up with his guard work in her absence and Charlotte, ever interested in his sister's seamstress and design work, had taken up the hobby when she wasn't keeping the ledger at Garnier's, insisting someone had to be leaving fabric in a house somewhere in Jehanne's absence–to balance things out, obviously, as all good magic is supposed to be.

Time passed this way for another week or so as everyone tried to reassure themselves that everything was fine; it was a large change, but they'd known for months, and they'll settle into this new normal soon and everything would be fine. But suddenly news came whispering through the streets of strange shadows passing by windows at night, shadows with no one to cast them, and soon enough the guards were being asked to look out for missing pets, small cats and birds that must have gotten loose.

Small cats and birds that were found far from their homes and butchered, torn apart but not eaten.

An uneasiness settled over the town as more and more of the creatures turned up, and "killer" was on everyone's lips. After a few weeks of disappearances and gory resurfaces, they began tapering off until they stopped entirely. Like any predator: from small prey to large–the guards instructed woodsmen and hunters, trappers and fur traders to keep an eye out in the woods for anything that didn't look like an animal had gotten to it first. It took only two days after the order was given for a horrified hunter to return with news of a torn, gaunt elk carcass, black with rot around the edges of the worst wounds. Next it was a boar, then a doe–then nothing once again.

Celann was tasked with joining patrols, increased in the wake of the animal attacks until investigators, who so far had found no leads towards what everyone assumed to be a fledgling serial killer, could find some hint as to what had been happening. Everyone waited anxiously for the inevitable first victim.

It came only a month after the shadow appeared.

Following loud, panicked shouts, Celann stumbled into an alleyway to find something hardly recognizable as human. It was pale, even for a corpse, and gaunt like the beasts had been–ripped apart and stained black at the edges, wounds rotting prematurely. He covered his mouth and looked away as he desperately fought against the thick, burning bile at the back of his throat, side stepping into a puddle of dried blood to let a more senior guard pass by.

When everything had been documented, after the corpse had been covered and the area sealed off–more for the townspeople's sake than the scene's–and they were given permission to leave, Celann headed immediately to the blacksmith, grateful for the harsh, painful way the smell and smoke of the forge cleaned the blood and rot from his lungs. He left with three sturdy daggers, weapons he grimly pressed into his family's hands as he made them swear to carry it with them. The protests died on all their lips when they saw the fear in his eyes, each taking it with the same gravity Celann presented it with and solemnly promising they would.

After only three days, there was another disappearance; another corpse, butchered and rotting unnaturally. He'd never possessed the same gift for magic most of his people did, but Celann knew enough–knew to fear the third and what it would bring, because there was no way this terror was only a man and threes were either a blessing or a curse. In the end, it was both.

When he stumbled on the third victim, it hardly occured to him that the man had anything at all to do with the last horrifying, supernatural month. He wasn't torn open like everything before, the ground wasn't coated in blood and viscera. He looked almost like someone who'd been lucky and gone in his sleep somehow–but when Celann knelt down to check if he was alive, he startled to see familiar jewelry and recognized the gaunt corpse of the book seller from around the block. His wedding band sat at an angle around a finger too small for the old, tarnished metal, and when Celann reached for his wrist to get a better look he touched something slimy and cold.

He distantly registered someone from the patrol calling out his name as he stared down at the red on his fingers, a steadily growing urge filling him with every beat of his heart to smear it off on the rough stones beneath him until his own blood ran hot and quick and erased the feeling forever. He clenched his fist instead–looked over at the boots beside him and pretended he hadn't just terrified himself as a second guard knelt with him to inspect the body.

It was Simon who found the most important thing the body had to tell them; Celann was busy wiping the blood off on his trousers and trying to get his mind working right again. A frantic tap on his shoulder got his attention and he looked up into Simon's wide, terrified eyes before slowly turning his head to see what he'd found. The gloved hand gripping the corpse's jaw slowly retreated, shaking, and Celann looked down to see two frighteningly neat holes at the side of the neck.

They shared a long, quiet look before Celann reached out again for the merchant's hand, praying desperately he didn't dig his fingers into disgustingly smooth, exposed flesh again as he avoided gripping the wrist to turn it around. Torn and bloodied, but the black edges were smaller this time. Cleaner, neater, less noticable.

They raced away burdened with news of a vampire preying on the town, searching desperately for the commander and whatever investigators they could find.

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The city was placed under curfew immediately after the news arrived, and patrols were focused for the dark and evening hours. Everyone was required inside and with at least one companion; a vampire could easily overpower a pair, but the hope was that, with no lone targets, it would resent the effort it would take to target anyone else. Guards were similarly paired and ordered not to stray from one another–the only souls out in the night needed to be vigilant. Celann thought about the daggers he'd bought his family, thought about Charlotte taking Jehanne's room at home without him there in the night to share their bed. He wondered what good those knives would be, what good his sword would do him, if the beast got insistent.

Heavy tension hung over the town for weeks after the news arrived. Curtains were drawn and lights were left burning outside as people hoped the creature would pass them by. Every sound was investigated.

After a week, after two, after a month… there was nothing. No pets, no woodland beasts, no disappearances.

The dread started to lighten as time passed, and after four weeks of no new attacks, the townsfolk had, to a degree, returned to life as normal. They were still sure to make it home before night properly fell, still kept a light on, but as the days went by there seemed to be a collective feeling that it had all been a nightmare, some trick of Vaermina.

Celann noted three absences with every pass through the town.

Nightmares didn't claim lives, and he worried at how quickly everyone let themselves believe any danger had passed. The bookshop was closed for a week, what with the owner being dead; he and Lotte liked to buy each other occasional gifts from there, and the darkness in the windows–always warmly lit and welcoming before–never failed to stir a sense of dread in him.

But then a second month was passing without any sort of attack, patrols returned to normal, and even Celann let himself relax. With how often the beast had attacked before, there was no way it would sit and wait for months. The town had been on alert and anything it would have hunted locked inside, but even the forests nearby had been spared. It had surely moved on at this point to easier prey, or either fled in order to avoid detection, he reasoned.

That reasoning was why he accepted the promotion offered to him: an easy, quiet job out at the watchtower, not too far from town and coming with a pay increase; he'd be replacing someone who quit, understandably, in light of the vampire attacks while they had been happening. The new station was a bit of a trek from the gates, at the edge of the forest, but the road was usually quiet enough and the pay was enticing so he agreed. Fresh air, new faces–it sounded like a nice change of scenery, anyway.

It took a few mornings–early, dark, quiet–to adjust to all the rustling, and Perrette teased him for it, but they got on well and she explained their duties simply and easily. They arrive at midnight and they're relieved around breakfast, and spend their downtime chatting or pretending they weren't falling back asleep. Celann never bothered her when she did, and she returned the favor when he was half asleep, half awake, never quite able to properly sleep in the tower; it turns out to be a good thing he couldn't.

It was early, a week or so after he'd started, and he was tired; he'd been resting with his head pillowed on his arms at his desk, lost in that dark, semi conscious haze. There wasn't anyone out at this hour, with the moon still so high, and he paid no mind when he hadn't heard Perrette for what should have been a suspiciously long time. She was probably playing cards and he was just resting, after all, not falling asleep like his coworker did. If anything popped up they could handle it.

Just resting is why one eye opened blearily at a sound outside, a sound Celann had only half heard and had already forgotten by the time he was looking at candlelit paperwork. He kept it open a bit longer, listening for any other sounds, then let his eyes close again, shifting in his seat to get comfortable. Nothing, just the dark and the quiet–but as the seconds passed something settled heavy in his chest, had suspicion creeping into his head, and he sat up to look around.

Nothing. Just the dark and the quiet. He slowly stood from his chair and breathed deep, waking himself up as he glanced around the inside of the watchtower. Perrette wasn't at the window, there was no humming or the sound of cards, like he'd expected. The deck was, however, still out on the windowsill, game partially through, and when he moved closer he spotted a few that had blown outside. A familiar dread settled over him as he looked down at them, caught in flower stems and other growth that kept them from blowing farther away.

The moon was still high. Perrette was not here. She was not with the cards she carried in a little box as a gift from her lover, hand drawn with curling letters on the back. It was quiet. It was… unnaturally still, Celann realized. He stared out through the window at the road as his hand moved to the hilt of his sword. He listened. Something moved in the undergrowth behind the station and he quietly crept his way to the–open–back door.

A black hare greeted him at the threshold, a bloody, mangled carcass with its white ribs exposed to the moonlight. The smell of rot hit him and his face twisted; his sword scraped against the sheath as he drew it.

Vampire.

Celann didn't know where Perrette was, what had happened to her, but he doubted the beast would leave a display if it wasn't waiting. It hadn't left. He stared out into the woods and swallowed, listening and hearing nothing. Nothing. His heart beat a terrified rhythm behind his ribs as he stepped outside, stepping carefully over the carcass and into the night, heading hesitantly for the woodline.

He'd hardly stepped through, heel snapping dead leaves and trampling plants–sound, something BURSTING forward, a scream–

He managed to put an arm between them, elbow digging into their chest, pain, hot, claws and yellow eyes. His heel slid back in the dirt as the creature strained against him, screaming and snarling and gnashing bloody teeth inches from his face. The hot smell of blood and decay hit him in the face and suddenly there was a fist in his hair, pulling painfully and jerking his head to the side–it vanished as soon as it appeared and Celann watched the vampire stumble back, face twisted in betrayal.

His own twisted to mirror it as he stared at the disfigured visage of his sister.

Jehanne.

She was clutching one of her hands as if injured, and he noticed a small, circular brand pressed into the heel of her palm. The shape of his earring, a small piece of silver resting by his jaw.

Those two moments stretched into forever then minutes suddenly blurred–claws, pain, BEGGING, being thrown, his shoulders slamming into a tree.

Celann blinked blood from his eyes and raised himself onto a shaking arm, catching his breath as he reached for his sword. He noticed she'd torn through his sleeves; the cloth was dark and sticky with blood, and he could feel the edge of his mouth throbbing, the skin around his lips torn open with a nasty downward swing of her claws. Jehanne was pacing agitatedly, glaring down at him and spitting to herself as he pushed himself to sit in the undergrowth. His head was throbbing dizzyingly, shoulders on fire from the impact, and he could feel something hot and wet snaking its way through the short hairs at the back of his neck.

Celann staggered to his feet, leaning against the tree for support, and let out a shuddering breath as he held his sword in front of him. Trying to evaluate.

She wasn't uninjured herself, not that it did him any good; he'd mangled one of her wrists and she'd still thrown him like a doll. He'd cut and sliced and stabbed and she was standing all the same, and they shared a mutual look of despair. Some mix of emotions flashed across her face, faintly illuminated by what moonlight breached the canopy, bright eyes wide as her lips were parting and she was clawing at her face, fangs glistening, then– "But we're family!" she wailed

The world went quiet.

Realization hit him, then. Cold blood. The world became the woman in front of him. He couldn't let her leave. Horror. Couldn't let her live. Agony. She'd kill them all. Kill her first.

He wondered how many times his sister must have crept past their windows, how many nights she must have watched him from the forest. Family. She'd kill him if it meant turning him, kill them all if he couldn't stop her.

Jehanne took a step forward and spread her arms invitingly, one wrist hanging at a sickening angle. Another step when he didn't immediately move, a sweet smile on her face, then lunged–steel and blood and pain and screams. He couldn't hesitate, couldn't go easy anymore. Blood flew from his blade as he drove it into her heart–vampires need to be stabbed in the heart–once, twice, a third time. He staggered back and tensed, waiting for her to somehow still be moving, dizzy with blood loss and buzzing with adrenaline.

He distantly watched her head slump against the ground, face half pressed into the dirt; glowing yellow eyes went dim and returned to a familiar brown. He watched, paradoxically, as she regained some color, despite being dead. Dead. He looked at glassy eyes and felt far away. Trees and green growth and blood splatters came back into view, but it was someone else's view, someone else's eyes. They laughed, whoever it was, desperate and manic, and dropped his sword as he stared at his sister's corpse. Something was screaming about it, somewhere inside him, but it was far away and muffled, a mile away.

Celann stumbled on suddenly weak legs towards the nearest tree and let himself collapse to the ground against it, staring at her face until it blurred. Everything blended together, and all he knew was that he was cold. He distantly remembered he was bleeding, but the thought vanished almost instantly into the gentle fog that was clouding his mind. He shivered, he thinks, and then thinks nothing else as he sits on the forest floor beneath the moon for hours.

He doesn't register Perrette stumbling out of the watchtower, only partially realizing she was yelling at him at all, even as she knelt beside him. He came back to himself when someone was snapping incessantly in his face, when irritation managed to stir him into some faint awareness. Simon was kneeling in front of him, eyes wide with fear as he gestured at the people around him. They descended upon him, quiet and gentle as they hauled him to his feet, and as he was half dragged, half helped back to town, all Celann really noticed was that it was morning. The sky was a pale, misty yellow–sunrise. Morning. The night was over. The night was over but he would live with what happened in the dark forever.

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He had nightmares every time he managed to fall asleep, shepherded into the temple to be healed and watched over. Breathing was difficult and he assumed he was dying; he was only a little concerned at how okay with that he was. A stranger visited him on the third day after the Incident and the priestesses allowed her to feed him something from a vial, some liquid miracle that ended the worst of the night terrors and let him breathe easy.

There had been a newly made vampire den nearby, she explained when he woke again, and Jehanne had likely been taken the day she stepped out onto the road. Her voice was factual as she informed the temple they'd all been taken care of, but there was sympathy on her face as she looked down at the shadows under his half vacant eyes. She hunted vampires–and other deadra–she'd said as she left; there was something he didn't like in her tone, something knowing, as she closed the door behind her and told him she'd be staying in town for a month or two.

He was sent back home later that afternoon, back to he and Charlotte's house, but everything felt… strange. He felt like he was intruding on his own space, in his own house, in his own bed. Lotte was being patient, but the pain in her eyes when she looked at him sent a spike through his heart. Blood. Breaking bones. He supposed he deserved it after what he'd done, though even he could tell she very genuinely didn't think less of him for it. But she handled him gently and he missed her smiles, missed making her laugh. That solemn look didn't belong in her eyes.

His parents visited twice, to make sure he was healing alright, but there was a distance between them that had never been there. They'd raised Jehanne for 26 years, their daughter, you killed our daughter, what kind of man kills his own sister? It was never said, of course, but he could see it in the tension on their faces and the stiff way they held themselves near him.

They declined both times to stay for dinner.

Celann couldn't move on. His family thought he was a murderer, his fiancee was no longer living with the man she'd gotten engaged to. Something in bim broke when he thought about it, that they were supposed to be married in a few months. He'd been over the moon about it, wouldn't stop talking about it to anyone who listened, even if they weren't really, but the hush that had fallen over the house as Charlotte gave him the space he'd started needing felt like an ill omen.

Two months passed of feeling like an outsider in his own life and he was saying goodbye to her. She refused to break off their engagement, said he felt guilty and was being stupid, and as he tried to promise not to darken her door again she told him for better or for worse came before the wedding vows and if he didn't at least write to her on his trip with this mystery woman she'd find him and drag him back home like a runaway boy.

It… hadn't been what he'd planned on. He hadn't planned on returning or writing at all, had planned on removing himself entirely, no longer the man she'd intended to marry and pained at how she was caring for him. He hadn't told her about meeting the woman from the temple, either–but people talked and Lotte was good at listening, and he wasn't as surprised as he could have been. He had mixed feelings about the indefinite engagement, but if it was what she wanted he'd let her have it, like she was letting him leave because he needed to. They looked after each other like that.

Perrette, on her part, when he found her at breakfast, immediately told him through a mouthful of jam and toast where the woman from the temple was before standing and pulling him into a hug. She pressed a small wooden box and a dagger into his hands before wishing him well and telling him to hurry, because the stranger had been packing her things last she saw and getting ready to leave.

It turns out she had left, hours ago, but Celann found her waiting expectantly outside the gate just off the road. She was sitting with her own breakfast with a second placement set up for him, and he once again didn't like the knowing look in her eyes as he sat down. She explained, eventually, that she was with the Vigil of Stendarr, and had been sent with two others to investigate rumors of vampires in the area. Jehanne had been an opportune victim, out alone on the road so early in the morning; the vampire had been trying to start a clan and needed bodies to fill the seats.

He'd almost been one of them. It was a matter of hours, apparently.

Again, she assured him they were all dead and asked if he intended to join her and her companions on the road–if he had seen what chaos and danger creatures like vampires pose and wanted to take up arms against them. He didn't answer, and she didn't demand he give one; they ate together in silence again and she didn't comment on the way he'd glance back at the gate every now and then. The guard on duty would give a little wave each time, a sad look on his face, and so Celann looked less and less until he didn't look again at all. He was leaving, after all; something deep in him was different, had shaken him out of the life he'd had, and he was moving on. There wasn't room for whatever he was in the space he'd made for himself anymore.

A few nights later he would untie the ribbon around that little box Perrette had given him, far away from town, and open it to find a clumsily hand drawn set of cards with little messages penned in her handwriting on the back. He turned the fool around to see a scribbled portrait of himself amongst the scrawled decoration; the back of every queen was a rough sketch of Charlotte. He put them gently back in the box, retied the ribbon, and ignored the look Freyja gave him as he slipped it back into his bag.

He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, again, without a body next to him.

"For those who cherish memories of loved ones, their compassion often conceals the beast. Our compassion compels us to destroy it."

#skyrim #celann #dawnguard #writing #i really need a personal writing tag hmm #also yeah i was thinking about like. disney narrators. when the camera is showing the village or whatever #idk something new #anyway if basically everyone in skyrim is a man im making everyone in celanns backstory a woman. i make the rules #also dw about the engagement im a polyship celann truther #whos going to stop me #my last dnd character was named moore and i thought moore/less (pre/post canpaign trauma) was such a funny joke #celann went from moore to less real fast #anyway i think this was in my docs for like two months and then i wrote almost the entire thing in two days bc ao3 was down #so. my hand was forced #also im just dropping in the tags that if celann hadnt gone off on a murder journey hed have been kinda okay #but where does that leave us #no sad little man in fort dawnguard #i killed someone > im a killer > killers can only kill > i killed someone #etc its a vicious spiral #k one last extra before i forget but gunmars line at the end is what slammed the last piece of the backstory puzzle together #and the linked song is the title source #i think that covers it all #ive obsessed over every detail of this post long enough im hitting post aldnaonskw

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