#It was interesting challenge that’s for sure had to remember how to dither | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

Note

How about a canon divergence where wen qing doesn't bump into wwx but instead bumps into nhs and nmj. Would it be a tragedy or a fixit? Would nhs temper nmj's hatred for wens? Would nmj act honorably at seeing the old men and women and children doing hard labor or would he only see the clan he hates?

It was Nie Huaisang’s fault, probably. Someone tripped over someone else’s feet, and then he apologized and she apologized and then they both apologized, and then there was the whole “you go first, no you go first” dance and anyway eventually Nie Mingjue stormed over to yell at his younger brother for wasting time. He took one look at the ash-faced girl, caught her by the shoulder and said, “Aren’t you that Wen Qing? I used to see you at discussion conferences – what are you doing here?”

The whites of her eyes showed in her terror, and he scowled fiercely. “I don’t slay unarmed women or children outside of combat,” he said. “The question was literal – what are you doing here? The Jin sect said they resettled the remnants of the sects somewhere they wouldn’t make trouble.”

Wen Qing pressed her lips together, then couldn’t help herself and snarled, “If you call hard labor camps where everyone dies ‘resettled’ – they took away my baby brother! They took me to another city, I didn’t want to leave him, but I didn’t have a choice and when I returned…my brother’s as soft as yours – they’re going to kill him!”

Nie Mingjue’s scowl deepened, and his eyes flickered over to Nie Huaisang, the words ‘hard labor’ clearly ringing through his mind and struggling with his deep and abiding hatred for the Wen sect, the memories of Nie Huaisang being snatched away from him and sent to an indoctrination camp to be used as live bait. The very reminder of it made his face black in anger.

Nie Huaisang looked between the two of them and covered his face with a fan. “Dage,” he said, and his voice helped break through the haze of anger. “Maybe we should – check?”

It’s not like we trust the Jins, given the way they want to be the next Wens, he meant, and maybe there’s a little bit of Isn’t our sect’s guiding principle to stamp out evil wherever it’s encountered, human or not?

“Sect Leader Nie, I demand an explanation!” Jin Guangshan shouted. “You cannot barge into my territory, threaten my sect’s disciples, take away the prisoners won at war –”

“I’m not so blind as to tell the difference between captivity and torture unto death,” Nie Mingjue snarled in return, not even slightly moved. “Not only did I take the prisoners from Qiongqi Path, I demand you turn over every other one you have, no matter where –”

“Those were legitimately captured prisoners of war! We took them instead of spoils –”

“If the allocation of every penny matters so much to you, you may have the spoils seized by my Nie sect in exchange,” Nie Mingjue said, flicking his sleeve disdainfully. It couldn’t be more obvious what his implication was: that the Jin sect, despite all its riches, cared more for money than for honor.

Jin Guangshan’s eyes narrowed. “It’s most unlike you to get up in arms defending Wens, Sect Leader Nie; wasn’t it just yesterday that you called them all Wen-dogs and sought their utter destruction?”

Nie Mingjue sneered at him, but he continued, oily smile spreading on his face like a stain, “It couldn’t be that Sect Leader Nie has changed his implacable mind so quickly – perhaps it is the pressure of war on a man so young…you should take care for your health, make sure you’re not being unduly confused. People in your family die so very young, after all.”

“Enough nonsense,” Nie Mingjue said, eyes very nearly red in anger. “If my mind is so unclear, why did you choose to follow me during battle? When Wen Ruohan threatened, you dithered and delayed, and when there was no other choice but war, my blade was strong enough for you to hide behind, but when we have peace you rush to the front to claim a position that shouldn’t even exist – no one should be Chief Cultivator, Sect Leader Jin, no sect placing themselves and their own interests above another’s! But if the alternative is you, perhaps I should strive for it after all!”

“Is your brother actually going to try to be Chief Cultivator?” Wen Ning asked Nie Huaisang shyly; he was the only Wen currently inside the Unclean Realm, on account of needing heal his injuries. The remainder were all living in a small valley not far away where Nie sect cultivators kept a close watch.

Nie Mingjue hated injustice above all else, even Wens, but only by the smallest margin; in their new homes they were given food and water and medicine, but not freedom. Too many cultivators, male or female, had hidden themselves among the helpless to launch sneak attacks and assassinations; even children could carry a knife and swear to avenge their fallen parents.

Those like Wen Qing were watched most of all – she led one of the Supervision Offices that everyone had so hated, and she did nothing to stop them; she was indifferent to evil, and to Nie Mingjue that was very nearly the same as evil. It was only that the war had been officially ended that held back his hand; if they had still been at war, he would have executed her without so much as blinking an eye.

Still, Wen Qing had told Wen Ning that she was pleased with their current situation. A true prisoner of war camp, however strict, meant that they would be kept safe from all those who sought personal revenge, and Wen Ning couldn’t help but agree that the trade was worthwhile. The Jin had all but sold opportunities to those who wanted to get in a kick at their fallen bodies, just to say they’d been involved in the Sunshot Campaign; the Nie sect had those types of people, too, glaring and hateful, but the Sect Leader’s military discipline made them too afraid to do anything more than raise angry voices – and what were angry voices, compared to angry hands?

After all, if they’d come even a few shichen later – if Nie Mingjue hadn’t already known where the Wens were being kept, due to his position as sect leader, and been able to fly there on his sword at full speed – it would have been too late for him. Wen Ning didn’t even recall exactly what had happened, but two of them had been beating him and the chief inspector hadn’t stopped them, only told them to be sure to throw his body over the cliff when they were done with him…

“No, of course not,” Nie Huaisang said, pretending to be busy by his side. He had no skill at medicine, but it was a way to spend his time that his brother approved of and wouldn’t interrupt, so he came as often as he could. “He hates the idea, thinks it’s rotten to the core – like we’re all a bunch of sheep, needing a shepherd. No, he’s just saying it to annoy and distract Jin Guangshan. Besides, imagine if they made the position inheritable; that would make me the next one, and wouldn’t that be terrible for everyone?”

“The children young enough not to remember may join the Nie sect as guest disciples, if they wish,” Nie Mingjue said, his tone brooking no argument. “The adults will remain as they are.”

Wen Qing crossed her arms. “There aren’t many cultivators left among us, and it’s fine for all of those - they’d be happy to take up a life farming,” she said. “But those of us who are already on the path of cultivation should not be stymied –”

“You mean your brother, Wen Ning.” Nie Mingjue had some natural sympathy for her position, due to having his own weak-willed younger brother, but not very much. “No. In the end, he’s a Wen; we will not raise snakes to bite us later.”

“What wrong can you put on my brother’s shoulders beyond his surname?” she challenged. “What evil does he have?”

“Indifference to evil –”

“He was hardly indifferent!” she snapped, pushed beyond her limits. “I told him to do nothing, me, and yet he wouldn’t listen, time and time again. He kept Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng hidden after the destruction of the Lotus Pier, smuggled the latter out, even carried him out on his own back, and if that wasn’t enough, he collected what he could of the Jiang masters’ ashes for them – later, when Wei Wuxian asked me for help, he even –!”

She suddenly seemed to realize she’d said too much and shut her mouth.

Nie Mingjue looked at her thoughtfully. “You’ve already said this much,” he said. “There’s no point in stopping now. What did Wei Wuxian ask you to do?”

“Shh, don’t tell anyone I’m here,” Nie Huaisang said, gesturing for Wen Ning to join him in the closet where he was hiding.

Wen Ning, still a little uncomfortable in his new Nie robes, confusedly obeyed, even though he was still sweating from saber practice – he’d had to start over, alongside the children, but to his surprise he’d found that the straightforward brutality of the saber suited some secret resentful part hidden inside of him that wanted nothing more than to chop up everything he saw. “W-what’s going on? Why are we h-hiding? We’re in the Unclean Realm. What can harm us here?”

“Feelings,” Nie Huaisang said. “They’re the worst. My poor brother has to sit out there and listen to it directly, too – the burdens of being Sect Leader. I’m glad it’s not me.”

Wen Ning blinked. “Oh,” he said. “Are Wei-gongzi and Jiang-gongzi still fighting?”

“No, they’ve moved on to crying.”

“They were crying while they were fighting.”

“Yes, well, now they’ve moved to the just crying stage. There’s been lots of hugging, too; they stop for half a breath and then set each other off again, it’s awful. Can’t they be all manly and stoic like we Nie?”

Wen Ning gave Nie Huaisang a doubtful look.

“Well, me excluded, of course,” Nie Huaisang said with a laugh and a wave of his hand. “And anyway, even I only like crying when it’s going to get me something. Or out of something!”

Wen Ning suddenly felt as if he understood much more about his new Sect Leader’s endless frustrations with his younger brother. “But why are you hiding?” he asked.

“I have a reputation of avoiding work to maintain,” Nie Huaisang said, totally puzzlingly, but a few moments later there was a knock at the closet door.

“Huaisang, I know you’re in there. Get out of there and have an emergency,” Sect Leader Nie said. “Anything, as long as it requires my personal attention, and have it happen as soon as their sister, the young madam Jin, arrives – that’ll just set them all off again, especially as she’s pregnant.” A pause. “Do you think I can order Wen Qing to handle this as part of the terms of her parole?”

#mdzs #nie mingjue #nie huaisang #wen qing #wen ning #my fic #my fics #Anonymous

1K notes · View notes

lexicals · 4 years

Text

Liner notes for An Echo, An Answer

Okay let's give this a go I guess? I may add more to this if I remember things too lol

Fair warning this is an exceedingly long post. It has ~subheadings~ (ooh). These cover:

Fun Facts

Notes about mira

Notes on actual writing/plot

Post-canon tidbits (to be supplemented by actual post-canon oneshot coming maybe not soon but definitely at some point probably)

Needless to say this contains some BIG OL’ SPOILERS. Please enjoy o:

Some general Fun Facts™:

When I posted the first few chapters of this fic, I didn't have a fucking clue where it was going. I didn't even know how kravitz died until I'd already posted like 10 chapters lmao. This was a stressful way to write and I am never doing that again

In terms of inspo, I remember there being a fic in which taako was a ghost and kravitz was a medium (if anyone knows what fic this is PLEASE tell me I cannot find it) and I think I subconsciously took inspiration from this. Also I’d already written a vampire au and I wanted more undead boyfriend shenanigans, I looove playing with the liminal aspects of kravitz being a dead-but-not-dead character

There was a goof version of this fic where kravitz wasn't from the 1900s at all and died in like. The early 2000s or something. He died having come back from/at a costume party, people assumed he was an actual ye olde victorian ghost, and he decided to just lean into it. Cue fake accent. This was scrapped mainly because I loved the ‘sleepy hollow’-esque man-out-of-time shenanigans way too much and also because I know very little about the early-2000s US but do you know what I do know a moderate amount about? 1900s england

I have not read the cask of amontillado and I did not know what it was until seeing the memes, which was after I wrote the basement body twist. I just wanted to have a cheesy secret basement behind a bookcase c'mon it's a murder mystery in an old spooky house let me have this

Anyone who's followed my content for a while probably knows that I'm a big trans kravitz stan, but I dithered over making him trans in this fic a Lot. This was mostly down to self-doubt abt a story ft. a trans man living as his preferred gender in that time period would be deemed "unrealistic" but in the end I said fuck it I want this & I think that was the correct move. Also I read a fair bit about absolute legend dr james barry & that made me a bit more confident about committing to the decision bc these people did exist & they deserve their rep

You may notice that all of the major OCs created for this fic are women. This was an accident but also I stand by it bc I think it helps to balance out the fact that so much of the ‘screentime’ is being dominated by the male leads (inc. angus, who probably has the 3rd most screentime after taako & krav). They’re also all just, absolutely indomitable people. I have a type when it comes to OCs. Speaking of:

Notes on mira:

Mira was very much a character created to serve a purpose, but she ended up becoming a lot more than that and I'm glad people warmed up to her while reading as much as I did while writing. She wasn't going to have anywhere near as much screen time initially as she did in the end but I just loved her & how her relationship with kravitz turned out so much that I ended up writing a bunch of snippets with the two of them just for me, which eventually turned into the fragment chapters because I wanted to share how gd cute they were. Also they ended up being pretty useful for plot too lol

She and flossy were actually kind of the same character to begin with, being kravitz's best friend who he lived with in a kind of lavender marriage with neither of them interested in the other but being happy enough being friends & pretending. I scrapped this pretty early for a lot of reasons but she was still the cause of his death in that version, whether or not she actively killed him. I think there was a gambling debts element at some point

Whatever iteration of the story, she was always going to be the cause of death. I ruled out actual murder pretty early on because I didn't want to tell a story about a gay, black trans man getting murdered in cold blood in his own home, which in a ghost story only really leaves manslaughter, and an accidental killing by a loved one was an idea that followed pretty hot on the heels of that decision - it's very sad, but there's no hatred behind it, so it's not too outright depressing for what is most likely an audience with a high population of marginalised people. That bittersweetness of tone - sad events, but almost always with loving intentions behind or around them - ended up being a real touchstone for the story as a whole

In terms of post-canon content for her, or I guess just stuff that wasn't mentioned in-fic lol, my idea of how her life played out is that she was a pretty solid pillar of her community for a very long time. She took what kravitz said about thinking about what she wanted to add to the world very much to heart, and her answer was for her to be to as many kids and vulnerable people as possible what kravitz was to her. Obviously in the end she poured a lot of herself into helping others out of guilt for having killed a man who she likely remembered a little rose-tinted, but the intent was always there before that too

I don't know how much this came across in the actual text but mira is mixed race (Black/white), though she is Black-coded in terms of how people see and respond to her (please tell me if I’m using these terms incorrectly). I downplayed a lot of the racial elements of this fic bc I don’t feel like it’s my place as a white writer to delve into those areas, but it is an element of her story that ties into anti-miscegenation laws and general societal attitudes and I didn’t just want to entirely gloss over those aspects, bc that wouldn’t be right of me either, so I can only hope the balance ended up working here, and for kravitz’s story too. I did a lot of the writing for mira’s story before even really thinking about this angle which is something I’ve learnt from now bc oh boy should I have thought about it sooner lmao........

Anyway. I love her. I’m very glad that other people love her too

In terms of story writing:

I used to watch A LOT of crime dramas when I was younger, and got so familiar with the structure of them that I used to predict who the killer was going to be about a quarter of the way into them almost every time. Most of the time the killer is someone introduced early on as someone fairly innocuous, but still notable, before the narrative doubles down on a red herring suspect who's proven innocent about 3/4 of the way through, paving the way for the real twist killer. You see where I took my base structure from here

So, mira is introduced early on as someone important to kravitz, who was involved in his life (& death) somehow, but in general she's more suggested to be a victim than a culprit - because of course she is, she’s a child and she loves him! I'm only just realising now that this is a "person of interest" style plot twist here. (Remember what I said about the crime dramas? Just so many of them.) But then in the end she suffered just as much as anyone else, so I guess you could say she's both a victim and a culprit, even by accident.......

Structurally I'm actually really happy with how this turned out. In my head (BECAUSE OH BOY I DID NOT WRITE ANY OF THIS DOWN! Or at least not in a coherent way) the story was split into three mini arcs - the enemies section ending with the kitchen blowout, the friends section ending with the the bay window scene, and the lovers section which covers the rest of the fic. This ended up integrating really well with the main mysteries/pulls of the story - the first being the will-they-won't-they (they will, it’s fanfiction, but how?) of the romance element, and then once that's tapering off starting to dig more into the murder mystery element, which had been more of a subplot up until then, while the romance moves onto the back burner a little bit. The dual genre was an interesting challenge to try to balance and I think it turned out pretty well!

While I'm on this, setting up my breadcrumb trails for the plot twists was simultaneously very stressful and very rewarding. Trying to keep things obvious enough to be noted but subtle enough not to give the whole game away? Gave me so many headaches lmao. I actually thought for sure that some people would twig about the body in the cellar sooner than ch42, but then actually in ch42 way more people picked up on fisher's sniffing around than I expected. Clues are hard!! But at the same time seeing the handful of people who called mira as an adoptive daughter, or the fact that krav fell down the stairs, or the fact that mira's og parents were involved was very cool and it made me very happy to see people picking up the little stuff and putting it together

QUITE A FEW PEOPLE SAID NICE THINGS TO ME ABOUT HOW CLEVER THE PIANO TUNING ANGLE WAS. I CANNOT TAKE COMPLETE CREDIT FOR THIS. IT WAS A PLOT HOLE THAT I SUDDENLY REGISTERED OUT OF NOWHERE WHILE I WAS IN THE SHOWER & THEN ENDED UP WORKING IN SO I GUESS IT TURNED OUT FOR THE BEST & MADE ME LOOK VERY SMART BUT IT WAS AN ACCIDENT

Something else that a couple of people have noted & that I only realised in the process of writing was the fact that a lot of kravitz's ghostliness in this fic has the potential to be read as an allegory for chronic illness/disability. This was something I only caught onto myself while I was writing the scene on the porch at the end of ch42 when I was writing kravitz's dialogue and was like..... oh shit that's a thing huh. Bc he is, y'know, quite literally housebound and limited in what he can do in a lot of ways, which is part of the reason I really tried to hammer home in that chapter that even though the fic ends with him being 'cured' (because that ending was always the intention from day one before I ever thought about this reading), they would have been happy together regardless. Love is not conditional!

Post-canon thoughts:

Taako and kravitz go into the house. Kravitz says oh my god what is that smell. Taako says he made blueberry pie earlier. Kravitz says okay we're putting bedroom fun times on hold I need that RIGHT NOW

Kravitz eats way too much too fast and spends the rest of the afternoon curled up on the sofa with a horrible stomach ache. He is not used to that much rich food. Taako is not impressed with this

He rolls his eyes and they watch a movie and talk instead and get to the bedroom fun times later

On the topic of food you Know krav ends up with a bit of a tummy from taako spoiling him. He looks & feels great and taako loves how comfy he is

Also on the topic of bodies I think krav does a lot of experimenting initially with what feels good now that he has a lot more freedom in presentation. He likes to mess with his hair a lot. Dresses and skirts are still a bad feel but a little makeup is fun sometimes. Kravitz living his best undeath 2k18 (I took so long to finish this fic it’s set 2 years ago now lmaoooo)

Kravitz lets taako drive him somewhere exactly Once before vowing NEVER AGAIN taako's driving privileges are REVOKED kravitz is going to get magnus to teach him to drive instead.

Taako says what the hell are you gonna do if you get pulled over you are a hundred and thirty and also dead you can't get a license. (He could get him a fake one, but he's not going to, because he's being petty about kravitz insulting his driving.) Kravitz says fine show me yours then. Taako says no but kravitz steals it anyway. A minute later he’s produced his own undoubtedly fake license out of nowhere complete with a fake DOB and a very nice picture

Taako says gasp kravitz that's ILLEGAL. Also you know you have to make this picture worse if you want it to be convincing right

Kravitz starts giving angus music lessons. Angus isn’t a natural by any means but he works hard and that gets him a long way

OH ACTUALLY I SHOULD PROBABLY SAY SMTH ABOUT THE REUNIONS HUH. GINNY THESE ARE FOR YOU:

Maybe it's weird to start with barry but the poor man has to have a sit down. He has so many questions. Kravitz what is the afterlife like it's fine you can tell him just give him a hint please and also can he maybe get like. A blood sample or something. No that's not weird it's for science what are you talking about taako bring him back

Kravitz is fully expecting lup to wreck his shit, and she acts like she's going to right up until she's close enough to give him a big ol hug instead. She says she missed him a lot & that he's much nicer to hug now that he's not a freezy boy, and kravitz goes ;_;

It's a very tight hug though. In some ways it is still a punishment

Also could he maybe hook her up with this death goddess of his? Lup would like to be immortal too, kravitz. Kravitz can you get a resume to your boss and could you write lup a reference while you're at it

Angus!! He’s so happy to have his other uncle back!! There’s a new caleb cleveland book he needs to read so they can talk about it!! All of this after a lot of crying and hugging.

I think at some point they do go over to visit mira’s descendants. Taako says hi remember me? I brought my boyfriend to visit! Unnamed great great grandchild #1 is like um he looks kind of familiar. Kravitz says well yes there is kind of a reason for that and it’s because I’m in that picture on the wall over there, hi I’m your great great grandfather nice to meet you

The family is a little weirded out by this at first but eventually they’re like. Well alright I guess do you want a coffee

Kravitz says yes please god do you know how many people keep offering me tea

He babysits for the youngest ones sometimes. The kids love him and the adults are happy to give him stories in exchange for his time, seeing as that’s all he asks for

Taako says ask them for money and contribute to this household kravitz. Kravitz says absolutely not they’re family and you’re already getting my youtube ad revenue

Yes kravitz has a youtube channel and is also very involved in the local music scene. He can’t do anything that would technically be classed as interfering with the flow of the living world but no-one said he can’t anonymously share some of his music here and there

Johann gets him a gig conducting for his orchestra every now and then. Kravitz is fucking ecstatic and finally gets to conduct some of his own pieces in front of an audience. Maybe they actually get to that biography johann mentioned at some point. Idk I haven’t thought about that part too much

Okay I wrote WAY more than I meant to here but I hope at least some of it was interesting and feel free to ask me questions if there are elements I’ve missed off of here that you want to hear more about! (Bearing in mind some of the answers may be “actual post canon content coming soon/later” lol.) As you can tell I have a lot of things to say about this fic & I’m always more than happy to hear that people are interested!! o:

#wastepaper basket #an echo an answer #God I hope the readmore works on mobile if not I am SO SORRY

112 notes · View notes

memaha19 · 4 years

Text

Things I Want(ed) From KH3 That Re:Mind is Probably Not Going to Fix

AKA, a brief interlude from Frozen 2 posting because Kingdom Hearts was on my mind this morning.

AKA, I’m excited for Re:Mind but still...

AKA, KH3 disappointed me and I’m still salty about it almost a year later.

AKA, there are many “my problems with KH3″ posts/discussions floating out there on the internet and many are probably worded better than mine but, as I said, the game was on my mind this morning.

Just...the worlds. The Disney worlds in KH3 bothered me. There were so few of them but they were so so LONG. Some of them were painfully long. Toy Box felt like the longest experience of my life. Every time I thought that level was coming to an end, BAM, another trek to another area. And Arendelle...though I love Frozen, there’s only so many times I can trek up the mountain only to get thrown off and have to climb back up again. There were so few worlds, only seven, I believe, (because we’re not counting Twilight Town or the 100 Acre Woods, more on those later), that I think they could’ve given us a few more worlds and made the levels a little...shorter? A little more detailed and charming? The levels were huge but empty and devoid of the character that previous Disney worlds had in other games. The previous main games had about 10 or 11 worlds, not including the throwaways (like Atlantica in KH2) or the final worlds (TWTNW and End of the World), so there could’ve been some more! Birth By Sleep had numerous shorter worlds and I vastly prefer that to slogging through the same world for hours. Even the way that KH2 had us revisit each world would’ve been nice. What’s more, they could’ve taken some of the massive time and space devoted to the empty, excruciatingly long Disney worlds and given us more time in Twilight Town or the Keyblade Graveyard, or put a playable Radiant Garden in the game. Those non-Disney worlds always served as nice interludes in the other games and it’s sorely lacking in this one. (And yes, I have heard that Re:Mind is going to let Scala be a playable world, so I’m excited for that!)

Related, I also wanted some worlds from older Disney films. I know the other games have had worlds from older films, but almost all of KH3′s worlds were so jarringly...current. I would’ve liked to see some of the older Disney film worlds rendered in the beautiful graphics of KH3, but, instead, the oldest film represented was Hercules (1997). Three of the worlds (maybe four, actually, with the Pirates world) were from movies from this decade (Corona, Arendelle, and San Fransokyo).

Related, they did the 100 Acre Woods so dirty. It was disappointing and short. It used to be a fun little interlude between the big worlds in previous games, a time to chill and play a mini-game and not have to fight a big boss fight. This was like “hello, here’s one mini game, goodbye.”

Related: all that Twilight Town exploration we got in the other games and this one gives us the forest and the town square area and that’s it?! We can’t even go to the clock tower or inside the mansion? When we first got to Twilight Town I was like “wow this is gorgeous!” and then quickly disappointed when I realized we couldn’t go anywhere.

Related, I’ve seen others say this and I agree: the Disney worlds seem like they’re just there, oftentimes, to get in your way. They feel like obstacles to the actual plot because they didn’t bother to place much/any relevance to the plot into any of the Disney worlds. Sometimes we get little snippets of the big story, like Marluxia and Larxene hanging around in Corona and Arendelle just to say cryptic things without ever being a real threat (that in itself is weird too, I spent ALL of the Corona level bracing myself for a fight with Marluxia only to fight...Mother Gothel’s heartless?) but it feels like two different games: The KH that wants to still be about Disney worlds and the KH that has gotten so deep in its own world building that it doesn’t have time for anything else.

Related, again: KH3 has an abundance of Disney worlds where Sora being there doesn’t make any difference to the plot. The most fun Disney worlds have always been the ones that have an original story that we’re actually involved in. Corona is just the plot of Tangled with Sora and co. tagging along. Their presence or lack thereof make no difference to the story. Arendelle is the same way.

The boss battles in the worlds were...lame. I understand that it maybe doesn’t make sense to fight someone like Mother Gothel, who never shows any physical fighting power in Tangled, but we can’t fight Zurg? We’re in a literal toy store and we can’t fight Zurg as the boss? We have to fight a weird doll and 800 robots? We have to fight Hans’ heartless? Not Hans? We fight Mother Gothel’s heartless? Not Marluxia, who’s been harassing us all level long? I understand that they held the KH characters back because of the whole “assembling 13 pieces of darkness for a big final battle” thing, but we had to fight Xemnas like ten times in previous games, they could let us fight Marluxia twice. I feel like the other games were a lot better at having us face a combo of heartless/nobodies/unversed AND Disney bosses. But, as the game has really zero interest in making the Disney worlds a part of the plot, they throw these cheap (and endless) unversed/heartless bosses at us and they’re all so EASY. They could have, and probably should have, let us fight the Organization at the end of each world and then let us fight them again in the Keyblade Graveyard, similar to the way Chain of Memories had us fight each Organization member a couple times.

When you finally do get through the Disney worlds, the ending is like “here’s all these characters that have been missing from the rest of the game” and the Keyblade Graveyard flings boss battle after boss battle at your face without much rhyme or reason. And while some of them are fun, some of them feel like “let’s just pair these characters together and make you fight them at the same time so we can save some time because we didn’t bother to put any of these fights into an earlier part of the game”. I’m looking at the Luxord/Marluxia/Larxene fight in particular. I would’ve understood pairing the last two together, but then Luxord is also there like they didn’t have any other place to put him.

This game is too easy. I’m not great at video games. I’m good-ish. I’m into stories more than anything so I hate when a game’s difficulty keeps me from completing it and keeps me from seeing more of the story. But I still like a little challenge. I have not-so-fond memories of yelling at the TV as I died time and time again fighting Ansem/Riku at Hollow Bastion in KH1, but I also have fond memories of finally beating him and what a rush it was! I didn’t get any of that in KH3. I’m not sure I died more than once or twice, if that.

The way they just let the Organization members hang out in the worlds and do nothing has always seemed weird to me. They’re big parts of the overall plot but now they just stand around and verbally harass Sora? As I said above, I spent all of Corona thinking I was going to have to face Marluxia at the end. Instead, they stand around in the worlds and then they stand around in the Keyblade Graveyard in the cutscenes and just talk. Also, okay, maybe I get the reasoning behind why Luxord was in the pirates world and why Vanitas was in Monstropolis, but Marluxia seemed like he was shoehorned into Corona solely because of the connection between the magic flower and his powers, which was stupid. And Larxene had zero connection to anything going on in Arendelle.

All the characters we’ve been waiting for (Ventus, Aqua, etc.) don’t appear until the very very end, which is a problem with the story pacing. They tease us, very early, with Riku and Mickey trying to find Aqua and then immediately drop that plot point to give us some empty Disney worlds. (Side note: this 100% tricked me into thinking we’d be switching back and forth between what Sora was up to and what Riku was up to and I was sorely disappointed as I played and realized it wasn’t true.) They dither in this “Sora needs the power of waking” to avoid giving us Ventus until the very end.

Just...the story pacing in general, which kind of ties into everything else. This game has a beginning, because it had to, and something they wanted to end with but they weren’t really sure how to fill the space in the middle. You spend most of the game just chilling in the Disney worlds with very low stakes. This big battle waiting at the end is always there in the background but, partially because the Disney worlds feel like distractions that don’t add to the story, the middle of the game never really feels like it’s building toward the ending, or anything. And then, when you do get through the Disney worlds, about 75% of the plot is thrown at you in the last hour or two of the game. It reminds me (a lot of this game reminds me, actually) of FFXV. I love FFXV dearly, I’ve poured A TON of hours into gathering ingredients and taking photos and doing side quests, but it has the same plot issue. The majority of FFXV is a light-hearted journey about four bros on a roadtrip, only for everything to take a VERY dramatic tonal shift about 3/4 of the way through the game and then stay very very SAD for the rest of the game. KH3 does something similar, with the way we spend most of the game traveling through Disney worlds and cooking food with Remy, only for the game to suddenly remember at the 11th hour that it’s supposed to be wrapping up this big 10+ year long story and thrust you into battle after battle and plot-heavy cutscene after plot-heavy cutscene.

To the pacing point: yes, I’m aware these games have always had slightly funny/back-loaded pacing. However, a main thing the other games had that KH3 lacks is that Radiant Garden/Twilight Town/Traverse Town interlude world that helps push the plot along. Without that in KH3, we get a ton of long Disney worlds where we’re like “when is the story going to happen?” and then the Keyblade Graveyard where suddenly ALL of the story is happening. Previous games have let us experience the Disney worlds for awhile before bringing us to an interlude world which furthers the plot, a la the big Radiant Garden section in KH2 that happens midway through the game.

Anyway, I think Kingdom Hearts 3 was a gorgeous game, graphics-wise, and I’ll still be shelling out money for Re:Mind come January, but after waiting for 14 years for a continuation of the main story line, this game just feels like, after everything, Nomura still wasn’t sure how to end it? It feels rushed and underwhelming and incomplete as hell.

TL;DR: I have all these thoughts about KH3 that I’ve waited 11 months to express.

#kingdom hearts #kingdom hearts 3 #kh3 #kh3 remind #sora #riku #bad plot pacing galore #rant #review #tldr #kh #kingdom hearts 2 #this is like almost a year late #i've had a lot of time to think about how underwhelmed i was

18 notes · View notes

anxietymymiddlename · 5 years

Text

His and hers circumstances

Pairing: Jumin Han x MC4

Summary: Jeahee is going out with Zen? The surprising news leave her with a broken heart, still she can not find the courage to confess her feelings to her afraid that she will not accept her. Trying to confront her confusing emotions, Jumin enters her every day life like a storm while dealing with his own issues. A little bit more than friends, but with their emotions not sorted out yet, what will happen when they will end up under the same roof?

Author's note

Hello and thanks for reading. I hope that you will enjoy the first chapter. Just a simple note; as I was writing down this story, I realized that it just felt a bit awkward to refer to the main character as MC, so I decided it to name her since Creritz lets you name her anyway. I choose the name Min-Seo because it does sound a bit like MC (and also because I'm bad at naming characters). I do hope it will not weird you out. Your thoughts are always very much appreciated.

[Chapter 1: A sip of love, bitter than coffee]

“I thought… me and you together, surrounded by the smell of coffee, in our cozy cafe and your smile… was everything I ever needed. Because I felt at ease by your side, more than I ever was. But I was so dither, I could not ask you to be mine and ultimately, you never were.”

The luxurious, black car stopped in front of the familiar coffee shop. His eyes glanced at the sign and he blinked as its sight snapped him out of his thoughts. “Rêver”. What a pretentious choice for name and in French in addition to that; was what he told them when they first revealed it. The storefront was neatly decorated or Christmas, he had expected nothing less from Jaehee. Driver Kim announced that they had reached their destination in a cold, monotonous voice per usual to keep the formality. He checked the time on his watch slipping his sleeve down with a smooth, professional move and took a big breath. Almost punctual, he wished they had stuck in traffic a bit more. It would give him the perfect excuse to be a bit late to the occasion.

His hand grabbed the deluxe package of the expensive wine. He had meticulously picked it himself, so he could guarantee its taste. He also didn’t have any doubts that a bottle of wine was a great present to gift; not very personal but you could attune your pick to the receiver’s taste. Plus, you could easily enjoy it alone or with company, how perfect was that? It was evidently a choice that suited his character, unlike the one he had in his pocket. For something that was meant for a present exchange, it was too personal and that fact troubled him so much he had ended up not going to the Christmas party. Since he had already avoided them once using a lame excuse, he’d feel guilty to avoid Jaehee’s birthday as well and it would also be unfair to her. Maybe him being there would help him sort out his thoughts or at least help him understand why he wouldn’t stop carrying that present on him; he tried to think positively.

Straightening up his suit, he opened the door drawing the attention of the groups sitting on the tables nearby. A huge Christmas tree was hulking at the back. Couples and groups of friends were dominating the place chatting merrily while soft jazz music was playing in the background. Christmas day had already passed, but with New Years Day just around the corner the cheesy atmosphere had not fainted. He could not avoid it even during business hours, since his assistant could not miss a chance to talk about how he had spent Christmas day with his family until he got fed up with it and made it clear to him that he was not interested to know the details.

His gray eyes scanned the room and stopped at a familiar back. Her hair, just like Jaehee’s had grown with years, now covering her back. She was standing by the table, chatting cheerfully with the odd trio. The redhead was the first one to notice him and waved enthusiastically gesturing at him to join them. That drew her attention to him and she smiled softly as usual when she was welcoming him to their shop. Her uniform, simple as it was, suited her perfectly. Black pants and a white shirt which was complimenting her darker complexion. They had switched to a green apron for Christmas, unlike the black one they were usually wearing.

“Good evening,” he greeted taking off his jacket. “Oh, the CEO finally granted us with his presence!” Saeyoung teased and stood up, bowing comically to him. “What an honor!” “Come on, you know he wouldn’t miss Jaehee’s birthday,” she said. “Well, he shouldn’t miss our Christmas party either,” Zen frowned. “Everyone was waiting for him. Canceling at the last moment and not even saying sorry…” “Maybe the three ghosts paid him a sudden visit,” Saeyoung commented. “So he couldn’t come.” “Of course I would not deny an invitation from assistant Kang,” he explained ignoring Saeyoung’s reference. “Since she is a person I respect, despite the events that led to the establishment of this place.” “It’s been over two years, why are you still hang up on that?” she sighed. “I feel this place was built upon my baby’s body and oil,” Saeyoung sniffed. “Don’t put it like that, it sounds weird,” Yoosung grimaced. “I am not,” he looked down at her. “Yet, you still bring it up whenever you have the chance,” Zen noted. “Get over it already.” “Not to mention that Jaehee does not like it when you call her assistant Kang,” she added. “You shall be remembered,” Saeyoung swept his eyes with the table cloth. “My poor baby.” “Stop it,” Yoosung slapped his hand. “It’s out of habit, I don’t mean to offend her.” “I know that, I just wish you could fix hat habit,” she pouted. “Well, you are one of the reasons she is not my assistant anymore,” he said taking a seat. “...So I don’t want to hear that from you.”

She blinked for a moment and cupped her chin chuckling.

“Well, you do have a point.” “Dude, you are the sole reason she left!” Zen frowned. “Min-Seo, you know you should get a bit mad at him when he talks to you like that,” he advised. “It’s fine,” she laughed.

Her fingers run through her dark brown hair before she places them behind her ear. She was in a better mood that usual but that did not surprise him. Whatever had to do with Jaehee was always bringing a smile to her face. Just a simple mention of his ex-assistant’s name and her whole face would light up. He knew, he watched it happening so many times already. He looked away, feeling bothered by the thought and placed the box he was carrying on the table.

“I brought a present,” he said in an awkward attempt to chance the subject. “Oh, wine again, what a surprise,” Zen could not hold back his sarcasm. “Expensive wine,” he corrected confidently. “Thank you, Jumin,” she interfered before Zen’s retort. “You picked a good one. I’m sure Jaehee will like it.” “Jumin brought a present but he missed our present exchange during the Christmas party,” Saeyoung shook his head dismissively. “Maybe he got a bit stingy?” “Like he’d miss a chance to show off… But like you’re the one to talk… Who brings Honey Buddha Chips as a gift for an exchange? I felt sorry for Min-Seo,” Zen scolded him. “Well, Yoosung was happy to trade though,” she smiled. “You brought the BD of your last drama, so what makes your present better that mine?” Saeyoung looked offended. “And Yoosung brought a gift card for LOLOL, clearly picking something only he’d like to get. At least mine was edible!” “You and Min-Seo also play LOLOL occasionally, so I picked it considering the odds one of you two might getting it,” Yoosung defended his choice teary. “I put a lot of thought to it!” “Jaehee also enjoyed the BD we exchanged,” Min-Seo comforted him. “So I was glad you accepted the trade.” “Well, I do prefer Honey Buddha Chips to it, so...” “Heard that? He just admitted my that present was beer,” Saeyoung patted Yoosung on the back excited, Zen raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t mean that! I’m just not into police dramas and Zen didn’t have a major role anyway,” he tried to justify his choice. “What do you mean?” Zen placed his hands on the table looking a bit insulted. “It was not a major part but I had a key role in it. I played the host the victim was in relationship with before she gets murdered. I was one of the main suspects and I also provided important evidence.” “Sounds lame” Jumin added fuel to the fire. “Will not watch.” “You never watch my works anyway!” “Well, I don’t have the time. Also, when I do, I spent it with Elizabeth the 3rd, it’s more productive.” “How is spending time with the fur ball considered more productive than watching art?” “Now, calling it art is a bit…” “Jeahee was touched when it was revealed that your character truly loved the victim but he didn’t want to drag her into his world or sully her name, since she was a married woman, thus he denied that he knew anything about her at first,” she commented. “Right?” Zen looked happy. “I’m glad you understand.” “Jo Won’s role as Detective Park was really captivating! I liked how he dealt with the loss of his own daughter and the struggles within his family while he was working on the case. His emotional portrayal of the character was definitely the best part!” “So she says,” Jumin said. “Oh, but Zen was also great! I can’t wait to see you play in another detective drama. Whether it’d be a detective or a villain, I bet you could portray it perfectly,” she did her best to sound supportive seeing him depressed. “Too late to say that now… Though I know that I can’t compare to seasoned tv actors.” “What about playing Policeman B, you could definitely pull that off and it’s within your reach,” Jumin said and Saeyoung snickered challenging Zen’s temper. “Jumin, that was mean...” she gave him a scolding look. “Well, I’m trying my best, so I don’t care what you think! And you didn’t even have the right to butt in the conversation… You didn’t even bring a present!”

He unconsciously touched the box in his pocket; not loosing eye contact with the furious actor. Zen had jumped on his feet, with the hands on the table supporting his body while looking at him challengingly. Yoosung was munching a biscuit watching them anxiously while Saeyoung didn’t even try to hide that he was enjoying himself. He closed his eyes feeling tired already, why did he have to deal with this? He was hoping they would not bring it up in the first place, but the conversation ended back at it even though it had deviated a bit.

“I had bought one, but I returned it to the shop since I could not make it to the party. No point keeping it since I could not attend,” he folded his arms irritated that he had to explain himself to him and because he felt the need to lie no less. “Zen got lucky, he ended up with Jaehee’s hand-knitted scarf,” Min-Seo tried to light up the conversations. “It really suited you, Zen.” “Of course,” he scratched his nose feeling flattered. “With a face and body like mine, it’s hard for something not to suit me.” “What about your gift?”

The question came naturally to him, he wanted to know and somehow he was regretting that he had not joined them… just a bit. Maybe he was over-thinking things, everyone had brought gifts they personally liked or something only one or two out of six of them would like. Was it wrong for him to pick something with her on his mind? But on the other hand, his choice was obviously the worst, of course a guy would have no need for a hair ornament and the group was consisted by four of them, so the more he was thinking of it, it was needless to say that it was suited for a direct exchange. Did he sound too eager for an answer? She looked surprised by his question.

“Got curious?” she finally smiled brightly. “I made a panda keychain. I was a bit hesitant since I thought it’d be too cute for a guy, so I was glad that Saeyoung did not mind.” “I like it,” he said and waved a cute panda holding a read heart hanging from his keys. “It’s cute.” “Isn’t it? Jaehee suggested we should make something handmade for the occasion and I found the instructions while I browsing the net looking for something easy to make. I thought it’d be something I could manage to make. It proved harder than I thought and the first attempts were a failure,” she revealed hers taking it out of her pocket, it was similar but it was not holding a heart. “But it was addictive and though I threw out a dozen of them, it started taking shape.” “Oh, so now we match!” Saeyoung adjusted his glassed.

She chuckled at his comment.

“Well, it’s nice that you liked it, I regretted not being able to learn how to make another pattern before Christmas. I’m sorry.” “Panda’s are cute, I like them! No need to apologize.” “Thank you,” she smiled again. “I’m honestly glad you didn’t mind.” “I wouldn’t mind either,” he blurted out with a straight face.

They were taken aback by his words, unsure if they had heard him correctly or if it was an attempt to crack a joke. The truth was that he was surprised himself, but Saeyoung’s comment annoyed him a bit, he almost wanted to snatch the keychain away.

“You wouldn’t?” Zen hesitantly asked in order to confirm it. “I wouldn’t. Pandas are almost as charming as cats. Well, nothing is cutter than Elizabeth the 3rd though.” “Still, I could not picture him holding this keychain,” Zen murmured. “Would a CEO go around carrying a keychain like this? What would your executives think?” Yoosung asked “Hm? I don’t really care about that. It’s not like I go around showing them my keychain anyway.” “Are you serious?” Zen asked in disbelief. “Well, I can picture it,” she laughed. “Jumin not caring about what the rest of the world thinks is one of his best merits sometimes.”

His heart skipped a bit again; he did not like this feeling.

“You are exaggerating, but yes.” “Maybe I should make one for you too then.”

That startled him.

“Don’t make it the same as Seven’s.” “Dude, she just offered to make one for you for free on her free time, just be thankful instead of making requests.” “It’s ok, maybe I should add a different colored heart, thought since it’s handmade and I’ve not completely gotten the hand of it, it’ll look a bit different anyway.” “Then, make it purple.” “Just how selfish can you get?” Zen asked. “Yeah… Mr. CEO,” Saeyoung leaned in and whispered by his ear. “You penthouse is card locked, so why do you even need a keychain anyway?” “Sorry to interrupt but what about Jaehee? When are we going to see her?” Yoosung asked. “It’s supposed to be her birthday.”

Yoosung had a godly timing asking that, it distracted the ex-hacker’s attention and gave him an excuse to avoid his stare. It made him anxious that he could not answer his question, what was the feeling that made him ask for one too, he could not tell.

“Oh, she is busy with her cake,” Min-Seo explained. “She said she wanted to decorate it herself. I’ll go fetch her and bring you re-fills. Jumin didn’t even get a drink yet, I’m sorry.” “No need, the customer service is always awful here after all,” he said. “Hey!” Zen was about to argue with him again. “You say that but you always come back,” she grinned. “Really?” Saeyoung asked. “Yeah, he drops by for coffee pretty often.” “I’m just supporting an ex-employee… and it’s not too far from my office so it’s convinient.” “It’s not too close either,” Saeyoung narrowed his eyes. “Well, thanks for your support anyway. Be right back.” “Gosh, Jumin, be a bit more honest,” Yoosung sighed. “The place is really friendly and I really like their cakes and their coffee.” “Hm? But I was? They often neglect me if I drop by in rush hours just because I’m their acquaintance. They think that offering me free cake and then chat with be for a bit can make up for it but it’s not very professional.” “A rich guy… whining for free cake,” Zen was done with him; he didn’t even have the energy to argue.

Even though he complained, he couldn’t help but to recognize the progress the place had made over the two years it was open. Jaehee not only had picked a nice location but also created an efficient campaign targeting working young adults. The décor was tasteful, the prices affordable and the service very friendly, so it gained quite a few faithful customers in a short time who were visiting during their breaks or after their work. That helped them spread their name mouth to mouth too and after just one year they had to hire a few employees as the demand grew higher. His ex-assistant was indeed a capable woman and one who would explore her options and keep studying on the field she had chosen after her resignation. No wonder it was hard to replace her after she left. As a businessman he could not help but admire her efforts as she was striving for a healthy business within a withering local market, he wouldn’t even hesitate to invest in acquiring the brand name if it meant having her as a partner.

At first he did not want to visit the place and he could not deny that his first visits where not very pleasant as, displeased as he was by her resignation, he ensured to note every single flaw he could find. But even as he did that, Min-Seo, who was in charge of the customer service, always smiled and nodded at him and by the next time he visited the place it was fixed. However, after a while he was not sure why he kept visiting even though he had recognized their will, nor he could explain the fuzzy feeling inside of him every time she took the time to chat with him. After a while, he had even managed to fix his visits to her schedule almost perfectly. He could not understand his actions completely but he knew that he was thinking of her a lot and that he was missing her smile when he could not see her for days.

Troubled over his thoughts, he was barely paying attention to the other guys; Yoosung was complaining about being single, nothing new there. It was unlikely he’d find a girlfriend before New Year’s Eve, so hearing him making a big deal out of it seemed like a waste of his time. Zen’s advice to him were obviously useless too and clearly based on his experience, but since their personalities were completely different, Yoosung would hardly put any of them into practice unless he’d magically gain unfathomable confidence. It seemed that it was clear to Saeyoung as it was to him, because he did not let the chance to tease the poor, blond boy pass by. The bespectacled man was always perspective, to the point it was scary sometimes. As for him, he had plans to spend that day with his beloved cat, so he didn’t even feel the need to get involved in their conversation.

“Finally, the birthday girl is here!” Saeyoug stood up and everyone followed his example.

Jaehee was smiling shyly. Her hair were long now, she was dressed more feminine. A beautiful, mature woman. His decision to force a dress code on her while he was working under him was on point; just thinking that there was even a small chance his father would get into her and make a move made him sick, thus he did not regret it. She greeted everyone whole-heartily, thanking them for their presence there and their gifts. Even though he greeted her back properly wishing her happy birthday as they shook hands, he could not focus on her. His attention was anchored on Min-Seo instead; her smile looked so fake -unlike a few minutes ago- and her eyes which were shining brightly now looked empty, almost like she was detached from reality, it made him feel uneasy.

Up went his eyebrows, ignoring the others who were complimenting the cake’s decoration. What had happened in the span of a few minutes? He glanced sideways feeling that Yoosung of all people had sensed that he was staring at her too much. His uneasiness grew by the minute but he tried to bury his desire to approach her. Soon enough, everyone was singing happy birthday. He knew that she would normally sing louder and happier and louder than everyone else, but she just mumbled the song, clapping along with the others without much enthusiasm as long as it finished. The customers joined them congratulating Jaehee on her birthday, those who frequented the place even approached her to shake hands.

She was standing by her side, as Jaehee was busy thanking them, staring into space. He could not tell if she had sensed him staring at some point, but her eyes finally locked with his. That seemed to bring her back to reality as her plastered smile vanished for a moment. She looked away sadly and kind of embarrassed and then offered him an awkward smile. He squinted his eyes, but she avoided his gaze again. He could not stand seeing such a lonely expression on her face, he felt like something her grabbed his heart squeezing it hard.

“I want to thank everyone for coming here today,” Jaehee smiled slyly when the customers finally went back to their tables. “Today is a special day, not only because I am getting a year older,” she joked. “…Or because everyone is celebrating with me in this special place for me… But also because I… Actually… we’d like to make an announcement,” she flushed and her fingers softly touched Zen’s hand. He accepted them, lacing his between them and smiled at her encouragingly. “We decided that we’d like to try… start living together.” “Eh? Where did this come from? Aren’t you roommates with Min-Seo already anyway? “ Yoosung innocently asked eating his cake. “You guys were dating? Since when?” Saeyoung asked more quick on the uptake but still shocked at the news. “What?” Yoosung choked. “Just how oblivious can you be?” Jumin offered him his glass of water. “Well, we wanted to be sure it’ll work out first, considering it might affect RFA if it wouldn’t. We didn’t mean to keep it a secret this long, but we somehow lost the timing to reveal it,” Zen explained it. “So it does seem sudden, but we’ve properly dated for a while now.” “Did you practice your lines before saying this?” Saeyoung asked raising an eyebrow. “I didn’t!” “We also had to consider Zen’s career…” Jaehee added.

Everything was clear to him after that. The source of that painful expression was laid before him, but why was his heart aching too? It was not supposed to be like this; he didn’t want to see her trying so hard to conceal it in front of everyone, but if he had to be honest to himself, he was hurting more over something he was suspecting for a while now.

“Assistant Kang…” “Yes, Mr. Han,” she replied as a reflex and immediately covered her mouth realizing her blunder. “Are you sure about this decision?” “What are you even asking her?” Zen stood up confused. “I am,” Jaehee answered without even a hint of hesitation in her voice. “Then I will support you, since I trust your judgment… So I will not hold back too.” “What the hell?” the young actor cried. “Since when did you like her?” “The drama!” Saeyoung raised this spoon and took a bite of his cake while watching them. “How did you even get that idea?” Jumin replied coldly. “But… you just said.” “Kang’s taste is questionable, but her boldness is inspiring. It’s nothing more than that.” “Thank you,” she looked at him puzzled. “I think we should bring wine to celebrate. Right, Min-Seo?” “Eh?” she turned to him. “Ah! Right… Wine,” she put up a smile. “I think red wine would suit the happy occasion. I’ll go bring it.” “Then, I should also-” Jaehee was ready to stand up. “The couple should stay together,” he stopped her by placing a hand on her shoulder.

The truth was that, even though he applauded their decision to take their life and their relationship to the next step, no matter how cold that’d sound, he couldn’t care less about it at that moment. Trying to stay collected, he followed her calmly to the kitchen, trying to avoid raising any suspicion. He opened the door and walked into a perfectly clean and organized kitchen to the surprise of a couple of the kitchen stuff. She was standing in front of their cellar with her hand lingering over a bottle of wine like she was frozen in time, lost in her thoughts, her other hand gripping her apron. The shoulders tensed the moment he touched them and he turned to him in daze. Her hair brushed against his hand and for a moment he could not help but to twixt a strand between his fingers.

“I can choose one for you,” he said and picked one before she manages to stop him. “Christmas time is a busy period; it looks like fatigue already got to you. We are also busy during these days, so I can understand the toll it can cause to your body and mind. Why don’t you take a short break? I’ll tell the others.” “I don’t-“ he flinched her forehead. “Don’t let the customers see you like this. It’s unprofessional,” he turned his back to her taking the bottle with him. “You’ll also worry her…”

“Jumin…”

He stopped on the spot with the door half-closed and glanced at her over his shoulder. In reality he was taking more about himself and not Jaehee; it was hard seeing her in this state. She was trying to find her words but gave up soon and smiled softly.

“Thank you,” she simply said.

He nodded. He couldn’t tell her that he didn’t want to see her wearing this expression, that he felt happy seeing her smile and his heart raced every time he called his name. But he understood that her heart was not beating for him at that moment. So he just left…

#jumin x mc4 #jumin han #mystic messenger mc #zen x jaehee #mystic messenger jumin #mystic messenger fanfic #jumin #mysme hyun ryu #mysme jaehee #jumin x mc

25 notes · View notes

alohomcra · 4 years

Text

read the prophet recently ? says a certain DELPHINE DELACROIX is in town. word says they’re from beauxbatons, thirty years old, and currently employed as a secretary at the ministry. asked around, and most folks say they’re conciliatory and ardent, so that’s good stuff. get on their bad side, and they can be passive and reticent. apparently, if you need to know anything about charms, they’re the person to go to.

- THE BASICS.

full name: delphine leonette delacroix name meaning: delphine ‘dolphin or delphinium’, leonette ‘lion’ date of birth: august 31st age: thirty blood status: half breed ( veela/witch ) wand: alder wood with a veela hair core former school and house: beauxbatons, faculté de menuisier profession: secretary loyalty: the ministry alignment: neutral good mbti: infj patronus: doe boggart: hooded figures spoken languages: french, english, advanced german, intermediate russian mother’s name: satine delacroix father’s name: gabriel beaufort ( estranged ) siblings, if any: josephine, twenty seven, jacqueline, twenty six, emmeline, twenty three height: 5’5” hair colour/style: blonde, often left down in perfect waves to use as a curtain eye colour: blue scars: a faint thin line across her right cheek distinctive feature: the silvery glow she emits as a half veela. it's faint but it grows or dulls depending on her mood.

- BACKSTORY.

the day delphine delacroix was born, the moon had never shone brighter in the celtic coastal town saint-malo. her childhood was filled with laughter and light, made all the happier by her three little sister’s arrivals. most warned satine that their eldest and only child would be embittered to the newest addition, jealous of the attention it would surely steal away from the girl who’d been her mother’s sole angel for so long. but the day josephine was born, they needn’t have worried, for delphine took to her on sight. doting on each and every one of the sisters that followed.

childhood came, and childhood died. marked by the desertion of her father not long after the birth of baby emmeline. their mother blamed herself, the stress of raising four girls, but delphine quietly knew better. even at just eight years old. their father had never been proud of his lot in life, embarrassed of his meager salary and shunned by his colleagues for marrying out of his supposed circle. having four girls only furthered his shame. though he had married satine for her beauty, drawn in by her impossible charm, it was the thing that had repulsed him in the end. and delphine learned to hate it too.

growing up half veela came with more challenges to overcome than reward. beauxbatons was one of the more tolerant wizarding schools, at least toward veela kind, with their long histories in europe. but that did not mean that every student she met felt the same. there were those who labelled her a pretty face from day one and nothing more, or there were the sneering boys who leered at her down the corridors. there were some who simply proclaimed she had no right to be there at all, to hold a wand, to practice magic, to call herself a witch.

the worst were those masquerading as suitors, romancing her and whispering all the words she longed to hear, but beneath that handsome mask they believed her as disgusting as the others. not worthy of something as esteemed as being their wife. it only took a few mistakes for her to learn that any boy who showed the slightest interest meant nothing more than a fling, something fun to tick off their list. there was no happily ever after for those like her. very soon, the bright and bubbly delphine of youth retreated into herself. withdrawing from her friends and social life all in an attempt to keep those she knew to be cruel at arm's length. so sick of people who didn’t know her staring and assuming what kind of girl she was, a veela with reckless emotions, there for wizards to admire.

still. school wasn’t all bad. during the sorting, most had expected the gentle delphine to be sorted into rossignol with the rest of her mother’s line but surprised them all after a stalled silence. there was plenty dithering, umming and ahhing over her truest desires until it unearthed her deep ambition and drive for change. menuisier was declared boldly to the entire hall and delphine quickly proved why. her skills with charms were unmatched in her year, and there were few others who could surpass her graceful wand work. she was more than capable of standing shoulder to shoulder with the most advanced, proving how hard she was willing to work to get there. approaching graduation, her teachers encouraged her along the healing path but delphine had set her sights even higher. she didn’t want to be the one to fix the damage in the aftermath, she wanted to be in a position to prevent it. delphine wanted to lead.

after securing a place in a competitive internship scheme with the ministry, delphine moved to paris to stay with family friends in preparation for september. that summer was supposed to be about fun. about spreading her wings and finding out exactly who she was meant to be.

all those dreams came to a sudden end one summer evening.

on her way back from a friends, delphine soon realised she was being followed. not one to panic, the woman continued on with a firm grip on her wand. home was only a block away, and logically the streets seemed too public for anything dangerous to happen. but she had miscalculated the growing anger in europe, towards people like her. those boys in her youth whose lips had curled in distaste had grown into men who would go to extreme lengths to see her gone. blood purists who looked at her not as a very able witch, but a half breed who deserved none of the rights they held.

delphine remembers very little of that evening. only hooded faces and insults they spat her way. one minute she’d been cornered, the next she’d awoken in hospital. most of her injuries had been easy to fix, gone with the wave of a wand. but there was a scar too tainted with dark magic to heal, a slash across her cheek that would serve as a forever reminder for her supposed vile existence. and the deeper scars, unseen to human eyes, that delphine would carry in her heart forever.

any semblance of defiance that hadn’t been knocked out of her in school was lost that day, having learned that obedience was a much surer path to peace, to going unnoticed. there are still glimmers of it every now and then. in the spark of her eye, or the tilt of her chin. more silent than it was, but the fight is not all gone even if she’s too frightened to chase it. the rage simmers quietly beneath the surface, a fire that has not yet made itself known but could prove destructive if she were pushed far enough.

she gave up on her dream of leadership, dropping out of her internship and fleeing back home to help her mother with her sisters. delphine deemed herself too weak and feeble to ever lead, too gentle in the eyes of the strong. she was much better suited to a quiet office job.

after a few years at home, delphine eventually applied for a position at the ministry in a different department. employed as a secretary for the wizengamot she gets a whiff of everything she’d dreamed of growing up, but can now never have. still, she works hard at her job and keeps her head down. not many pay her any mind, and it pays enough to cover the bills which is all she really needs - having long ago given up on anything she ever truly wanted. there would be no big office on the first floor, nor big white wedding with all her sisters for bridesmaids. delphine no longer accepts better, nor love for herself, because she believes no one can ever truly love her for the person that she is.

delphine has now been working for the french ministry for over five years. in that time she has not taken a single promotion, preferring to keep busy and out of sight. so when it was announced they would be convening in their countries capital for the world’s grandest meeting of wizard kind ever seen, her anguish was palpable. with so many coming from near and far, it’s a certainty that the worst will be close behind.

#! * INTRODUCTIONS.#! * INTRODUCTION / delphine delacroix.#are eye pee

2 notes · View notes

juravern · 5 years

Text

A Light, Floating on Dark Water

Unlike last time, I wrote this entire thing in a single day. Yesterday, 13 February, in fact.

3,400 words of a Lucifer/Sunless Sea crossover. Because I wanted to.

A Light, Floating on Dark Water, on AO3: She had no idea what to expect when she headed underground. He was not expecting to become emotionally invested in her.

It goes like this: I signed up for the Valentine’s Day challenge at the prompting of @thedeckerstarnetwork, because why not. It belately occurs to me that romance is not my forte. I’m aromantic and asexual. Romantic interactions in most media bore me or turn me off (though, granted, the actual quality and depth of the material matters). Romantic interactions that have interested me are generally unconventional and usually incorporate a lot more facets to the dynamic than just how much they want to do the do.

To explain how this works in the context of the fandom we’re here for: that scene in Season 2 when they’re at the beach and Lucifer tells Chloe how she deserves someone better, how she’s a selfless mother and how every crime scene breaks her heart a little bit and how he’s not worth it? That conversation was AWEsome. The kiss that followed? I just kind of waited for it to be over. It really doesn’t do anything for me emotionally, even though I get that it does for like everyone else, that was the big payoff for them and here I am like ‘eh’.

I leave the prompts on a sticky note on my desktop, and at the back of my mind, to stew gently.

On 31 January, Sunless Skies, the sequel to Sunless Sea, was officially released. I realised this a few days later and started playing the hell out of it XD, just a few days before half my social circle comes to me telling me that there’s this awesome Lovecraftian horror exploration game with beautiful scenery that I should buy, only to be mildly surprised by the fact that I was so far ahead of them on the curve regarding this, I backed it on Kickstarter like ages ago XDXD.

With only slightly more than a week to go before the deadline, and unable to kick Skies from where it’s dominating most of my thought processes, it occurs to me to actually take a serious shot at writing a crossover.

It then occurs to me that despite my in-game progress, Skies is still unfamiliar territory, and I’m probably better off working with Sea. I dither a bit more. I write down a few tentative lines as I play with where I want to put the characters in this world. I don’t really like those lines, because I’m not sure where I’m going with it. (I eventually threw all these out, after the below happened.)

Yesterday, I remembered the questline for the Whisper-Locked Puzzlebox that you get if you link your Fallen London account to Sunless Sea, decided to borrow almost all the story beats and tweak a few details (and fill it out with like 10x more words than the original storylets), then spent most of the day and night camped on this here computer putting prose directly into Word. It’s a slightly bizarre process to contemplate, given that so far as I hear, most people don’t actually write their story out like that, A-B-C all the way to Z in full coherent sentences, paragraphs, grammar and spelling, the whole enchilada. I did do edits afterwards, but only very mild ones to adjust a few phrases.

IDK, you tell me whether it works.

#length of living words #Draco wrote a thing #Lucifer Morningstar #Sunless Sea #thedeckerstarnetwork #Lucifer on Netflix #Dracorex rants about something

10 notes · View notes

ilovejevsjeans · 6 years

Text

Ricciardo's 'ballsy' move: 'My instinct was telling me it was right'

The plane stopped climbing, the seatbelt sign extinguished, and Daniel Ricciardo exhaled for what felt like the first time in months. The Australian formula one ace was on his way from London to Los Angeles to meet some mates for a mid-season break, and was finally on his own time. No commitments, no fans, no media, no hangers-on. It was the headspace he'd been craving.

Out of contract at the end of 2018 and set to become an F1 free agent for the first time, Ricciardo had been determined to explore every option, even as the speculation over his future intensified by each passing month, and against the backdrop of teammate Max Verstappen committing to Red Bull Racing on a big-money deal until the end of 2020 last October. But the clock was ticking, and the 10 hours crossing the Atlantic gave him pause for thought. It was time to shake things up.

Earlier this month, Ricciardo dropped the bombshell that he'd be leaving Red Bull, home to all seven of his F1 wins since joining the team as the successor to compatriot Mark Webber in 2014, to join Renault, the French manufacturer ramping up its involvement in the sport as constructor in its own right in addition to being a supplier of engines to multiple teams, including Red Bull. It was a move few, certainly not Ricciardo's current employers, saw coming.

Leaving a race-winning team to move to a midfield outfit with aspirations of reprising its most recent glory days of 2005-06 with Fernando Alonso is, Ricciardo admits, "ballsy". But the 29-year-old feels it's a move that's necessary, both personally and professionally.

"I think a lot of people expected me to take the soft option and stay because they see me as a soft guy," Ricciardo told Fairfax Media in an exclusive interview.

"I'm maybe perceived as someone who is a friendly guy who wouldn't push back and make a big decision. It's good for everyone to see that I have the balls to make a call like this."

For most of 2018, much of the speculation over Ricciardo's future focused on Mercedes and Ferrari if he was to leave the only F1 family he's ever known. His five seasons at Red Bull Racing follow a two-year apprenticeship at its sister team, Toro Rosso. Mercedes has been the sport's dominant team since F1 switched to V6 turbo hybrid engines in 2014, while Ferrari, with Sebastian Vettel leading its charge, seemed the squad most likely to knock Mercedes from its perch. But doors that could have flapped open never quite came ajar.

As Ferrari dithered over whether to retain Vettel's 38-year-old teammate Kimi Raikkonen or promote promising young Monegasque driver Charles Leclerc, Mercedes elected to re-sign Valtteri Bottas to play support act to world champion Lewis Hamilton for a third season in 2019.

With a bottleneck at the top two teams, most expected Ricciardo to stay with Red Bull, where he's demonstrated an ability to win multiple races in machinery that, in his tenure, has never been capable of a championship push. But a surprise player came onto the scene in the immediate aftermath of Ricciardo's second win this season, around the streets of Monaco.

"Renault first expressed some interest around then, with Cyril [Abiteboul, Renault F1 managing director] contacting Glenn [Beavis, Ricciardo's manager]," he says.

"There were several options. I spoke to Renault, I had a couple of meetings with McLaren, and I got to speak with [Red Bull company founder] Dietrich [Mateschitz] in Barcelona and again in Austria.

"Initially, I had it in my mind that I'd be staying [at Red Bull]. But the more I thought about starting something different and taking on a new challenge, I got excited. I met with Renault and got a sense for their long-term plan. Obviously I want to win tomorrow, but the strength of Ferrari and Mercedes at the moment means it's very hard for anyone to take them on in the short-term."

Ricciardo says Renault didn't promise him the earth – in fact, the French team did quite the opposite.

"The thing that struck me about Renault was that they were prepared to be honest," he says.

"Straight away, they said 'we're not going to be quicker than Red Bull next year', but what they told me about their plans for 2020 and for when the next rule changes come in for '21 … they had some good structure in place, they're recruiting a lot of good key people, and they're preparing to win. They have a winning mentality and a realistic way of going about it, which I liked."

As Renault's approach became more serious, Ricciardo still had a two-year deal from Red Bull on the table, but something about the thought of standing pat didn’t feel quite right.

"There's been times this year that I've felt exhausted, maybe a bit jaded, and for the first time in my career, not completely enjoying F1," Ricciardo admits.

"There's been times when I've thought 'this is why [2016 world champion Nico] Rosberg retired', and he had it a lot more intense than me. Or why Casey Stoner retired from MotoGP very young. I can see how you could feel burnt out or a bit over it.

"I pushed for a one-year deal, which Red Bull agreed to, but still in the back of my mind, I wasn't sure. What if I was in the same position, had the same feeling a year from now? Would there still be other options available? I didn't want to snooker myself."

Renault set a deadline for Ricciardo to accept its two-year deal over the Hungarian Grand Prix weekend in late July, but he needed more time to ponder his options.

"Renault wanted an answer in Budapest, and the Red Bull offer was still there," he says.

"There was too much going on, so I managed to buy a few more days. But I had to make a call."

Three days after that race weekend, Ricciardo was in London, bound for LA, and with a decision to make. He'd been on the phone to his manager right up until his flight boarded.

"For the first time in I can't remember how long, I had 10 hours to myself, didn't need to be at a race weekend, didn’t need to be at an event, and I was on my own time," Ricciardo says.

"There was something about being alone on that flight that gave me the clarity I needed. The one thing I kept coming back to was being energised again, wanting a new challenge, and that the chance to change excited me. So as we got phone signal as I was coming into LA, I called Glenn and told him it was Renault."

Ricciardo met his three friends in LA, and as the quartet headed to Las Vegas for the weekend, spent most of the four-hour drive on the phone.

"The others all went out when we got to Vegas, but I stayed in the hotel because of how exhausted I was," he says.

"The next morning, I called [Red Bull motorsport adviser] Helmut [Marko] and then [team principal] Christian [Horner]. Helmut said he wasn't too surprised, that he expected it in a way. He said he had a feeling that I wanted to move on. Christian, at first anyway, thought I was taking the piss.

"After I'd made those calls, I felt like a big weight had come off my shoulders straight away. They weren't easy calls to make. But my instinct was telling me it was right. My gut feel was telling me it was right. I was waiting to have that feeling the whole way through the process as it went for months, and I got it for the first time on that flight to LA. When I finished that last phone call and it was done, I knew. I turned my phone off and left it in the hotel safe for three days …"

Ricciardo says the decision to leave is "one of the toughest" he's made in life, not just his racing career.

"It's been a 10-year journey with Red Bull. I was in their junior program in 2008, so amazing memories and things I'll always be grateful for, and things I'll never forget," he says.

"I'm sad to move on, absolutely, but excited by the challenge at Renault. Personally I felt it was good for me to have a fresh start somewhere else, I think it will be healthy.

"I've been pretty stressed all year, and now life feels pretty stress-free." (X)

#daniel ricciardo #dan #article #so dan liked the fact renault were honest with him #hmm funny that

39 notes · View notes

letterfromtrenwith · 6 years

Text

Grand Jeté - Ch. 7 & 8

When George Warleggan quits a high powered job in the City to take care of the finances of the South West Ballet, run by his friend, Francis Poldark, it changes his life - even more so than he expected.

Elizabeth Chynoweth came to the South West to come back home, take on new challenges, and leave behind a less than perfect time in her life. She intends to focus on her art, but everyone knows what they say about best laid plans…

Ch 1 & 2 Ch 3 & 4 Ch 5 & 6

Chapter 7

“Did you read the email from the Box Office? Another Christmas matinee sold out!” Rosina peeped over the top of her computer, an excited grin on her face.

“I did. They’re doing really well.” George allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction. Although the Company’s Christmas show already had a few matinee performances, he had suggested adding an extra few especially aimed at children, with discounts offered for schools and other groups. There were other performances in the Hall over the season, concerts and a pantomime and suchlike, but there had still been a few open daytime spots. The Hall management hadn’t needed any convincing – more bums on seats meant more money for them, too.

The excellent reception for Rodeo and Dracula had helped The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe sell tickets apace. Even the more obscure de Valois duo had sold well. According to Rosina, the current season had already seen a 10% increase in those becoming ‘friends’ of the company – those who paid an annual membership in return for reduced ticket prices and invitations to special performances.

George was under no illusions that this was all down to him – he hadn’t been here that long, for one thing – but he had been pleased to be able to identify some ways they could improve. Rosina had done a fantastic job with the social media – it wasn’t something George was especially interested in personally, but even the bank had employed a social media manager.

He’d only suggested the additional matinees because he’d known full well they would sell out – he’d checked the records and last year’s Christmas show had been oversubscribed. The show had originally been budgeted to cover costs, so extra performances would generate more revenue to be put back into future productions. Demands for tickets to the Company’s shows had actually been rising steadily for quite a while, which was all down to Francis’ hard work. The Company’s talents spoke for themselves, all that was really needed was some more organised management.

“So is the Minack Theatre finalised?”

“Yes, the Company is officially booked in for two weekends in June – eight performances, including matinees . Francis, Anne and Ellen are going down there for a visit at some point soon so they can start thinking about staging – and then I can start budgeting!”

“How’s that going for the rest of the season?” It was very early days but if there was one thing George had been able to transfer to this job from his last it was the importance of planning ahead. Marie Antoinette and Midsummer Night’s Dream were likely to be quite expensive, requiring more elaborate staging and costumes, going by the paperwork he had pulled from previous, similar productions. He was still getting used to all the details, but he was starting to feel a little more confident in his knowledge. Working in investments, he’d had to read up on quite an array of things over the years. Ballet at least had the advantage of being a lot more interesting than most of them.

“We’ve made a good start.”

“Good…When do you think we’ll be able to start advertising?”

“Not until early next year, I imagine, but that’s up to the creative team and the Hall management, really. Next time Francis comes in ask him to make sure you’re CC’d in on everything and then you can deal with the Box Office re the social media when the time comes.”

“Can I just say…” Rosina chewed her lip, thoughtfully. “Can I just say thank you for giving me this job to do. It’s really – I’m really enjoying it.”

“You’re really good at it, as well.” Rosina picked up her handbag and rummaged in it to hide her blush.

“Well, I’m going to take my lunch, do you want anything from the sandwich shop?”

“No, I’m, er, I actually have plans….” He tried to say it as casually as possible, pretending to be very interested in reconciling the Company bank account.

“Oh, meeting Elizabeth?” Rosina grinned as she headed out the door. “Have fun!”

With a sigh, George shook his head. He and Elizabeth had tried to be discreet about seeing each other, but it had been completely hopeless in a ballet company full of perpetual gossips. It was only a couple of weeks since that first date, but they’d met up a few more times since, including that Sunday lunch the following day. Elizabeth had taken him to a fantastic pub where he’d eaten some of the most delicious roast beef he’d ever had in his life. Since they’d both been busy, and Dracula had been in full swing, they’d been limited to a couple of coffees and one late supper after a performance. He’d driven her home afterwards, and for a moment as she’d glanced back at her door, he’d wondered if she was going to invite him in. She hadn’t, but in light of the way she’d kissed him before she got out of the car, he hadn’t been at all disappointed. He glanced at the clock – 12:35. The dancers would be breaking for lunch soon. As if on cue, his phone buzzed.

“So, Francis told the company about your Minack idea.” Elizabeth smiled, taking a sip of her hot chocolate. They were in the Hall café; it was busy today, filled with mothers with pushchairs, artists based at the Hall, and a few schoolchildren enjoying their half-term holidays.

“He mentioned me specifically?”

“Of course! It was your idea, after all. Besides, he doesn’t want to take the blame if we all get rained on!” She laughed, a lock of hair failing out of her bun over her face. Without thinking, he reached across the table and gently pushed it back behind her ear. She glanced down, biting her lip and then smiled. George couldn’t help but smile back – she really was incredibly beautiful, glowing with her morning’s exercise. “Seriously, though, it is a wonderful idea. I’m really looking forward to performing there. When I was with the English National, we performed outside at Somerset House; it was really lovely.”

“And did it rain?”

“Yes it did, as it happens. It was quite fun!”

“What was the ballet?”

“Macbeth, so it really worked, actually!” They both laughed. Abruptly, Elizabeth frowned a little. “Listen, George…”

“Hello!” Morwenna dropped herself into the chair between them, trying and failing to steal a crisp from Elizabeth’s plate. “Having a nice lunch?”

“We were…” Elizabeth gave Morwenna a look, which her cousin gleefully ignored, glancing between the two of them with a smile. “By which I mean…shove off.”

“Rude.” But with another grin, she picked up her bag and disappeared off towards the company’s wing. Elizabeth watched her go and then shook her head with a smile.

“Honestly! I blame Caroline, she’s a terrible influence.”

“I’m sure Caroline would be happy to agree with that assessment.” He paused. “Were you going to say something, before?”

“Yes. You know Dracula closes this week, and then we’ve got a few days before the final prep for de Valois. So…I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner on Saturday.” George frowned. Elizabeth looked oddly nervous about asking him this, but he couldn’t imagine why.

“Of course I would.”

“At mine.” She added, softly. Ah.

“Well, then, I definitely would.”

Chapter 8

Elizabeth couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so nervous before a date….Well, maybe before her first date with George. Of course, that had been her first date in ages, despite Caroline’s best efforts. Her previous relationship hadn’t exactly left her with a great desire to get back in the dating pool with any haste. Until now, that is.

She hadn’t cooked for anyone in she couldn’t remember how long. Well, unless she counted making cheese toasties for herself and Morwenna when they had a movie night. When the other girls came around, they usually ordered in. Anything she made for herself was usually very quick and simple.

So, she’d spent most of Thursday (after waking up late following the Dracula closing night party) Googling recipes, and then a good hour or so on Friday dithering in Waitrose. In desperation, she’d bought the ingredients for a few possibilities and texted Caroline for advice.

Chicken and mushroom tagliatelle, paella or fish pie?

I think you’re probably fine with anything that doesn’t have garlic.

More importantly, what are you wearing?

I haven’t decided yet, probably just a skirt and top.

Yes, but what about under that? :P

Elizabeth sighed in exasperation.

You are no help whatsoever!

Finally, she’d decided on the pasta, and went back on Saturday morning to buy a lemon mousse to go with it. Annoyingly, Caroline was a tiny bit right – she had also gone out and bought some new lingerie. Maybe it was being just a bit presumptive, but she hadn’t missed the look in George’s eye when she’d emphasised that she wanted them to have dinner at hers; and she certainly hadn’t misinterpreted his reaction when, at the Dracula party, she had led him away into a quiet corridor and kissed him. The way he’d pressed her against the wall, his hand sliding up her side… Remembering it made her shiver.

She managed to push away her nerves while preparing the ingredients, focusing on chopping and measuring. However, when she was standing in front of her open wardrobe – having left her pasta sauce gently simmering on the hob – the nerves came back in full. Along with throwing dinner parties, dressing up was something else Elizabeth didn’t do very often. When she was working, she lived in leggings and dancewear; the rest of the time she preferred jeans and comfy jumpers. Her few party dresses weren’t really the right thing for tonight, she felt. Just as her sauce was getting close to setting-on she impulsively grabbed a soft, cap-sleeved, blush pink top which left a couple of inches of bare skin above the waistband of her skirt. The colour suited her, and the outfit flattered her figure. If only she’d picked it out half an hour earlier…

She was just boiling the water for the pasta when the buzzer went. 7:30, exactly the time they’d agreed. Elizabeth really didn’t know what it said about her that George’s excellent time-keeping was one of the things she found very attractive about him. When she opened the door, he was holding a bottle of wine and a bunch of flowers; he started to hand them to her, but stopped, his eyes widening slightly.

“Wow, Elizabeth, you look…amazing.”

The dinner turned out very well, if she did say so herself. George complimented her on the food, and even asked for seconds, the hint of a cheeky smile on his face. They lingered over the dessert and the wine; the conversation flowed as easily as it had on all of their other dates, but there was an invisible undercurrent, a note of tension…of anticipation. Both of them knew where this night was heading, what Elizabeth’s intention had been in inviting him here, but it was almost as if they drawing it out somehow. Elizabeth was, in a way, certainly not because she was having second thoughts. It had been a while since…well, and she didn’t want to rush into anything.

It would certainly be easy to. George looked very handsome in his dark red perfectly tailored shirt, more so as the wine and the late hour relaxed her. The way he’d looked at her when he’d arrived had made her draw a breath, but it was nothing compared to how his intent gaze was making her feel now.

“Coffee?” She asked, aware of a slight hitch in her voice. George coughed slightly, glancing down, a hint of a blush colouring his cheeks. That did not help her at all.

“That would be nice. Thank you.”

“Why don’t you – er – why don’t you take a seat on the sofa?”

“Oh, okay.” She heard his footsteps on the carpet as she busied herself with the coffee machine. “Oh, I like this!”

“What? – “ She glanced back to see him looking at her picture collage. With a smile, she went back to pouring. “Oh that…I made a little collection of photos when I was at RBS, for homesickness you know, and it’s just kept growing over the years.”

“It’s nice. Really nice.” There was a touch of wistfulness in his voice which made her wonder. She carried over their coffees, setting them gently on the table before kicking off her shoes and sitting down, tucking her feet under her. George smiled at her, almost shyly. He picked up his coffee, letting it cool for a moment and then taking a sip. There was a short silence and Elizabeth couldn’t help a little laugh bubbling out of her, making George look at her in surprise.

“I’m sorry, I – just – I feel like I’m out of practice at this sort of thing. It’s – “ she bit her lip. “It’s been a while.”

“If you want me to go – “

“No! No, I definitely don’t want that.” She shifted closer on the sofa, meeting his gaze. His eyes were so blue. “Completely the opposite in fact.”

“Oh.” Gently, he rested his hand on her knee. The effect of that light touch through the material of her skirt was incredible, and she let out a shaky breath. She covered his hand with hers, stroking the back of it gently before intertwining their fingers. Their eyes met again, and she leant forward slowly, George coming to meet her. It was almost as if it was their first kiss, it was so electric, and she sighed into it. He lifted his hand to cup her cheek, even that slight caress making her shiver. The way she was sitting, she couldn’t get close enough to him and she hummed in frustration. Eventually, they had to pull back to breathe, but neither of them went far. When George spoke, his voice was barely above a murmur. “It’s been a while for me, too.”

Without replying, Elizabeth stood, George never taking his eyes off her as she did. Wordlessly, she held out her hand; he took it, rising to his feet and let her lead him towards the bedroom. There was no more hesitation now; she turned towards him at the foot of the bed, sliding her arms around his neck as she pulled him close for another kiss, relishing the press of their bodies together at last. He rested one hand on her hip, slowing stroking upwards to brush the bare skin above her waistband; his fingertips caressed the small of her back and she moaned. God, if just that touch could have this effect on her she could only imagine what more would be like….

It took quite surprising amount of effort to slide her hands down his chest and undo the buttons of his shirt. He sighed softly when she stroked the skin over his collarbone. Elizabeth pulled back slightly, and George reached up to brush her hair off her face.

“Yes?” He whispered. Elizabeth pressed a soft, sweet kiss to his lips.

“Yes.”

#poldark #george warleggan #elizabeth chynoweth #elizabeth warleggan #george x elizabeth #grand jete #au #f: ge #f: au #fic #m: fic

11 notes · View notes

grim-faux · 3 years

Text

2 _ 5 _ The Smallest Step

First

The strange game the Thin Man played confused Mono. He wasn’t sure what to make of it or how to do. They traversed through endless roads through constant rain, choking fog, decimated alley passages; stopping occasionally in unoccupied buildings and places sometimes mostly abandoned. Most of the time, television devices not harboring the twisted gape of the Viewers would go silent. That didn't mean much to Mono, though he hadn't thought about straying off again. He kept count of how many of the devices sat in an area in case he needed a hasty escape, never mind he didn't have a way of activating any of them. It made him feel better.

However, the tall thin man was persistent to call and the wait, coaxing Mono to come-come and stay near. Didn’t want to chase, as insisted in a pushy, disgruntled way. So Mono would chase the Thin Man, and that seemed okay. Then sometimes they would stop and shelter for a while in some derelict place, so Mono could rest or eat. Mono, too, was very persistent to gather some foods and offer them to the Thin Man. They left the room with the foods, but the Thin Man should eat too, or he might not feel good and possibly die. Mono never saw him eat a thing, and it was very distressing. He tried different foods, from different places.

“No. I don’t need that.” "No, you eat." "No, child, no." "That is yours. I don't want."

Frustrating, picky. But maybe the Thin Man had other foods he preferred. It would have been nice if Mono could figure out what the Thin Man wanted. Such as the game they were playing. What of it did the Thin Man seek?

When he tired of it, the man in the hat would leave. As he usually did with the things that disinterested him. Mono wanted to find something that might interest him – a toy, or an unusual object, something unique that could not be found anywhere else. He failed at all times he presented something strange, to the strange Thin Man, but he was unwavering. Since Mono on his own might not be enough, if he could find things for the Thin Man, the Thin Man would be curious in good ways. Maybe.

It could be the bizarre notion of an adult and child packing. It made no sense and felt wrong. Mono was not opposed to going with the Thin Man, but he remained cautious and leery of why’s. The Thin Man did without understanding reasons, and did less speek on the topic. This confused and frightened him, but it wouldn’t directly harm Mono. That he was certain of. As long as he was careful.

This is why Mono hid behind the sofa seat, curled up and dozing away the hours. It could be days. Perhaps it was miles and miles. The residence had other rooms and shadows for him to slip through, but he liked the sides of the rotten fabric and a wall at his shoulders, where nothing could wrap around him while he did half sleep. Occasionally, the soft tapping of the Thin Man’s shoes drifted by, and the space thrummed as typical when the tall thin man was near. Mono would shuffle out to one side and peer at the Thin Man, let him see he was not escape and had gone far. This was important, because the man in the hat seemed annoyed when Mono hid like this.

Everything was different in this place. Rooms were out of order, the kitchen smaller – less cabinets to curl up in. Mono had not scouted the corridors or other residencies a hundred times over, to really establish there was no threat. He couldn’t trust the Thin Man with this essential task because he was adult, but mostly on account he didn’t grasp the true nature of dangers like Mono did. The man in the hat was too dismissive, too indifferent. He spoke with a firm tone, he didn't care who or what heard. The Viewers didn’t seem to care, not that he ever spoke to them. Not that he cared if they, or anything for that matter, heard him.

Most of the time Mono didn’t mind the stern reminder to be near, pay attention, don’t stray. Or, in the few times he couldn’t catch his breath on the thick vapor or dust, after a hard climb. Sometimes in the endless roads hazard by neglect, and no space open to reach a building entrance – one that Mono could reach in his haggard state, since he didn’t get to rest that often at times they did stop out of the weather for shelter.

Taxed under the crushing weight of staying near, Mono would sit by a wall. A moment, he promised, knowing full well it wouldn’t be so swift. When the Thin Man saw that Mono’s pause could not be thwarted with a voice, the tall figure would wait by while Mono sheltered in his soggy coat. The drilling pellets would cease against his hat for once, and he’d deliver a gaze up and up, and up. The Thin Man would not settle his judging glower down on the child, but evaluated the roads sprawling with so much uncertainty.

And Mono liked the warm feeling that settled in him for that short time, knowing that he couldn’t be chased or bothered, or watched from afar. Though in these instances he felt so tiny and insignificant in the Thin Man’s shadow, it was like he was eclipsed in something so ominous, the lesser dangers couldn’t slither out or do anything; nothing ever bothered the Thin Man.

The detached indifference was so wonderful, because he did remember how terrifying it was for that gaze to be directed down on him – so focused, and intent, settled in a critical decision Mono could never hope to grasp. When the Thin Man looked at him now, it was to ask pointless repeated questions. Sometimes he explained something that came off as remedial, but it was still nice to have someone explain things to him for a change. Even if he didn’t fully grasp the speek, it made him feel like something important.

He didn’t understand why the Thin Man wanted to keep him, but he could learn from this. If he was careful, it was possible to learn of the man in the hat without try. If trying too-too hard didn’t work, try less. Staying leery and suspicious would stray him from certain peril. It was the only way to survive.

Save for the one time with… Her. But all the more reason to be suspicious.

During the shelter in the small residence, the Thin Man was acting peculiar, and Mono didn’t like that. Whenever he came out of hiding, scooting from a shadow or creeping around beneath a table, the Thin Man peered at him in a scrutinizing way. And Mono would slink back to the safe spaces, though the Thin Man always knew where he was. Being out of sight made him feel better when the Thin Man was like this. The man in the hat might call him out, but hadn’t yet. More reasons to be wary. It might be due to the foods in the kitchen becoming less, they’d been at this residence for a while. Sometimes, he did begin to wonder if the Thin Man remembered he was there at all. As strange of a thought as it was, the Thin Man was strange and secretive, always keeping secrets. Never giving direct answers, and the speek complicated.

The problem came when the Thin Man paced through the main room, not a flicker or leap, but went to the main door for the first time in such a while.

Mono wriggled out from beneath a cupboard desk, but not all the way. He watched as the Thin Man dithered at the exit and pivoted his shoulders. Something was shielded by his side, but he reached his free hand out for the door handle and wound back and surveyed the room.

Despite suspicions, Mono squeezed out from beneath the desk and scurried over to the tall figure. “Hey!” he chirped.

“Hmm? I thought we might should leave, soon.” He stole his hand off the handle, but moved his other shoulder a little more out of view. Mono retreated a step. “But I need a small favor. Don’t run.”

Mono spun in place, letting his coattail flash. He didn’t like this, but he was also curious. More curious than he was cautious, and that was never wise. The Thin Man revealed his other hand, holding a plain plate, with folded rags that looked white. Like the stuff from the hospital. The sight of it made Mono creep further away, his frown shifting to the tall man in the hat.

“Don’t run,” he repeated, a little buzz tinting his tone. He knelt and set the saucepan on the ground. It had clean water on it. The rag material laid on the edge of the plate, soaking some liquid. “Come. Take a look.”

Uneasy about this whole setup, Mono pivoted and coiled up for a run – but was barred by a long arm. He retreated a step and glared at the Thin Man, who didn’t seem pleased by his antics. “What?” he challenged.

“That bandage.” His other hand indicated Mono’s arm. “Needs to come off.”

Mono tucked his arm to his chest and shifted his scowl to the arm, guarding against his flight. His eyes drifted, searching for a way out of this snare. There likely wasn’t, unless he decided to teleport. If that worked, he might not be up for following up with an escape, let alone hide somewhere. The Thin Man seemed very focused.

“Why not?” The Thin Man tipped his head. “The one on your leg. You took that off.”

Mono turned away and tucked his arm into his coat. “N’reason.” The air is soothed for a moment, the static a diluted hum in his mind.

The hand threatening his departure lowered to the floor. “Can see? I won’t touch.”

Without a response, Mono moved closer to the lowered arm. When the limb didn’t move, he stepped over the wrist and spun around to peer at the man in the hat. The expression was disappointment, before the hat tipped down and he drew his arm back to the plate. Mono moved back in. Closer. Until the Thin Man gave him his attention. The figure was about to reach, but squelched the reflex entirely and just.,. hovered.

Mono was about to shoot off if he had tried to grab him. Instead, he tugged back his coat sleeve and showed a bit of the unraveling tatters. It was… really in bad shape. But he didn’t want to take away the tangles. It was like his paper bag, it was a small thing that completed him. Like his coat, they had been a part of him for such a time.

He tightened his jaw, as the Thin Man leaned closer to inspect. True to his word, he didn’t grab.

“That looks uncomfortable.” Mono shrugged. He wouldn’t know any different. “Do you want it off, now?” Mono shook his head and withdrew his arm. For good measure, he glanced at the Thin Man’s hands. Wary. “What if we replace it?”

Mono was about to chew on his sleeve, but moved his arm to rub the back of his head. It might be nice to replace it. He liked the feel of fresh bandages, against a painful carve or scrap. Especially with some fresh, chilled water. Not seeing the injury made the hurt less. He tilted his head, and nodded.

The Thin Man allowed a light smirk. “Your coat. Off.”

That’s where Mono drew the line. He curled his arms around his sides and shrank back.

“For a moment. Not long,” the Thin Man sighed, and brought a hand to his face. “I am trying to work with you. Can you not be difficult?”

“N’t off,” Mono hissed.

“I can’t rewrap your arm, with the sleeve in the way.” He held his hand low, beckoning. “Come here.” Mono spun away. “Come here, or we will not be leave.” That halted all plans for withdraw. Mono wasn’t certain what that meant, he recalled the kitchen was near bare of supplies. “Negotiate.”

“Foods,” Mono pleaded.

“My request isn’t a difficult one.” The Thin Man crossed his arms. “A minute, not longer. You won’t notice it is off.”

Mono choked a little in his throat, but as before, he inched closer to the Thin Man. He tugged the sleeves off his wrists, taking his time to unbutton and pry the collar away from his neck. He felt… less, without the weight on his shoulders. The lovely coat is bundled carefully and tucked to his chest, and he crouched over it, protecting his faithful friend. Then, he held up his arm.

The Thin Man was slow and methodical, as he usually was. More so maybe, as he took the shreds of the bandage and snapped them away with frightening ease. Mono bit into the collar of his coat and screwed his eyes tight.

“Can d’self,” he murmured. He cringed down more into himself, when the Thin Man hummed.

“You don’t seem motivated to the task.”

Mono anticipated pain when fingers pinched his wrist. He’s pleasantly shocked by the absence. He does hiss and recoil a bit at the grasp, when the icy water rinsed over his skin. Unperturbed, the man in the hat shushed him, while Mono flailed and tried to kick at the unwavering hold.

“Just water, Mono. Water. You subsist in a city that rains constantly.” He rinsed the gauze piece and rubbed at the grime and dirt that built up under the rag. “I’m shocked there’s still an arm here, at all.”

“Cold hurt,” Mono croaked.

“Yes. It is colder than what I intended.” The Thin Man groused. “It healed well. Have a see.”

With the application concluded, Mono ceased struggling. Only because it did him no good. He inched up to his feet, braced by the Thin Man’s fingers. He checked his arm where the carve once painted his skin, but finds the former wound faded. Still, he wondered how he got it. Possibly the lamp he fell into, or however that worked.

Briefly, he’s distracted by the Thin Man’s hands, so drastically different from his own in every way. Worn and gaunt, and frightening. While his own were miniscule, littered with nicks and splinters from rocks, or whatever else he had to claw through in his perilous travels.

Curious, he tugged at his arm and the fingers loosened, allowing his liberation. Unexpectantly, he turned the tables and snared the hand before it could retreat. He forced the hand to flip, and scrutinized the long lines in the palm. The hand hovered a bit from the floor, and Mono pressed down on the palm pad with all his mighty strength. He traced a crease through the middle, and wondered, why there were so many lines. Scars?

As well, did the Thin Man ever snare him in a… dangerous way? He tried to think, if ever he was caught and held to the point of air dying in his chest. He’d see it—

Occasionally, the Thin Man did catch him, but never hurt. Not with his hands. He didn’t think. There was the one time he did sort of recall, in the shattered building. But that wasn’t like what other adults did, when they caught a child and let them struggle. Smaller adults, they did a lot of damage. They threw things, or would take and arm and a leg in two hands, and twist.

Mono cringed at the memory.

The Thin Man could hurt hum, break him he supposed. He was fortunate the Thin Man wasn’t like that. Sometimes, the Thin Man did hurt him, but not with his hands. He never demanded Mono to stop struggling, which would make him stop struggling – if it didn’t kill him. That was very interesting. It was something comforting too. He wasn’t afraid of the Thin Man, and maybe that was the problem. He liked the Thin Man, when maybe that wasn't good. Did—

“Would you let me see that leg?”

Leg? He blanked. What about— Oh, that’s right. He took the bandage off way ago, it was covered by his pant leg mostly.

Mono shuffled on the Thin Man’s hand, and bent the accused limb across his thigh. He tugged back his rolled slacks, revealing the pale skin and remnants of a scab. It had not been pretty when he first saw it. At least he still had his leg. When did he get onto the Thin Man’s hand? He was at ground level, nothing to worry about.

“This was worrisome.” When the Thin Man nudged the ankle with his finger, Mono withdrew his leg.

“Run,” Mono supplied. He tucked his limbs under himself and peered up at the man in the hat.

“Run? From?” Mono bit his lip and looked away. The face of the Thin Man darkened, and he dipped his head down. “Ah… yes. Of course.”

The hand tipped and Mono slipped to the floor. He scrambled to snatch up his coat, while the Thin Man collected the saucepan with the dirty rags. He did a loop around the Thin Man’s feet, as the figure stood.

“Lets find some material to wrap your arm.”

“Mad?” Mono rasped. He stood beneath the towering figure, his head tilted all the way back.

The man in the hat quirked his brow. “No. Upset.” The static bristled. “Yes. Mad.”

“T’me?”

Balancing the items in one hand, the Thin Man pressed his other hand to his face. “No. Me. I’m mad at me.” He was trying not to work through paradox gymnastics with this.

“To what?”

He looked down at the little face gawking up at him. “You are not mad to me?”

Mono looked around, hugging his coat to his chest. “M’clumsy.”

“You were not clumsy, you were scared.” The Thin Man turned and walked. He flittered through the short passage to the bathroom, and dumped the items into the sink. He’ll deal with them later. To get out, he had to shoo Mono aside with his shoe. “Are you trying to go somewhere with this? There is no excuse for what I did.” He returned to the main room, headed for a busted recliner there.

An abrupt pop and screech rebounded, and suddenly the child plowed into the bases of the chair. Mono gave his head a shake, checked where the Thin Man was, and then clambered up onto the seat. “Chase? Why?”

He reached for the child, intent to relocate him. However, Mono vaulted over the arm of the chair and plopped to the floor. View of Mono was lost when he zipped behind the back of the recliner. The Thin Man sighed, the static whirred on the air around his shoulders.

“At the time, I thought the reason was… right.” He dropped himself in the chair.

“Reason?” He looked to the other side, where Mono resurfaced. The Thin Man propped his head on his arm.

“Not a good enough one, as far as I’m concerned.”

“Bored?” The child tilted his head.

The question caught him off-guard. “Bored? Of?”

As if to emphasize some point, Mono yawned. He noted the boy was usually drowsy after a leap, and he hadn’t seen how far he managed to cover. “Bored. Th’n… seek t’me?”

Ah. “No…” the static thrummed. “I do not enjoy chasing you. I prefer not to do that, given how that typically goes.”

“But… n’why? T’steal?” Mono rubbed at his eyes with his palm. “Keep y’me? For to—”

“Mono. Drop it,” he uttered. Particles and sizzling electricity vibrated through the open air. “I do not wish to discuss this topic further. If you want to stay in my company, you will not ask those sort of questions.” The Thin Man braced his arm to the chair and leaned over. “What happened to you, was wrong.”

The boy skittered back a few feet, expression uncertain. “M’sorry.”

“Child, no.” The Thin Man clasped his hands over his face, his hat tilted back. “You are not supposed to be ‘sorry’.”

“Y’upset.” He was examining his cleaned arm. “Shoul’d’t run.”

This exasperating child. “No…. You had every right to run. How in the world would you have survived?” Him of all creatures and monsters that manifested.

“Mm.” Good question. Mono shut one eye and tried to think of the alternative. Aside from the Thin Man, who was the constant. It had been awful not knowing where or when he was going to reappear. Until finally, he couldn’t care anymore. Could scarcely walk. Not nearly enough foods. It was hard. He didn’t know how he was surviving, everything became a horrendous distortion he couldn’t grasp.

Because of the Thin Man. If not for the Thin Man. He caused so many problems, yet, managed to solve many of them. How very helpful.

He opened his eye and retreated a step, when the Thin Man reached a hand down to him. “Come here.”

Mono scratched at his neck as he tottered further out of reach, looking between the Thin Man and his offered hand. It was strange, the way the child looked at him. As if he never saw him before. He let his arm hang there. “Why are you like this?”

“Up’t cept.”

“I am not upset with you. I am upset with myself.” The child frowned, and continued to withdraw. Until he had turned fully around and disappeared into the corridor.

There was no way he could make any of this up. The child just… frustrated him. The swings in his mood, the distrust, the random bouts of neediness. What more did he need? What more could he offer? The boy was safe in his presence and trusted him when it was convenient, but once he certified security, the child wanted nothing to do with him.

They needed space. They were two polarities, conflicting. They were not meant to exist – not as an adult or a child, and especially in this miserable existence. Perhaps that was the Tower’s revenge. Prevent them from coexistence, to the point of self-destruction.

Regardless, it still needed the child. He didn’t matter, his time was far overdue. If he was disposed of, the Tower would be waiting. It was infinite as it was patient.

#little nightmares #little nightmares fanfic #mono #the thin man #thin dad #little nightmares fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction

4 notes · View notes