#and everything gets tight and noodly at the same time

[amethysttail]

Glaiveweek 2020- Day 2. This Never Happened

Day 2 of Glaiveweek 2020! @glaiveweek

Prompt: Fun and Games- Prank Wars, Tickle Fights, Hide and Seek Warp Tag

Summary: A glitter bomb in Titus Drautos’s personal office starts a series of shenanigans never before seen in the Citadel. Eyebrows, laundry, and dignity are lost. For a moment, all hell breaks loose. Then the King walks in to check on his glaives. What he sees will never be forgotten.

Titus Drautos stretched, watching heavy raindrops spatter his window. Monday meant training with the glaives, supply forms, meeting with the king, and preparing his budget proposal for the council to approve... He rubbed his eyes tiredly. Getting the money needed to keep the glaive running was like pulling teeth out of those stingy bastards. 

A boom startled the Captain into glancing down below. Lightning flashed as a bunch of newer glaives ran from the safety of the parking garage into their headquarters. The greenhorns whooped at the cold, splashing each other as they ran. The more experienced glaives warped the distance, laughing. Titus smiled, and gathered himself together. Time to address the troops. 

Midmorning combat drills in the arena began with Titus circulating with critique. Nyx was quick, but needed endurance. Libertus had him panting after the first few rounds. Good team- balanced eachother out... Tredd lost his patience and was subsequently thrown by Luche into a wall. Crowe had to be repeatedly reminded that fire did not solve everything, and Pelna lost an eyebrow in her resulting demonstration that fire did indeed solve everything. The only senior members not giving Titus a headache were Axis and Sonitus- just smoothly sparring like everyone was supposed to be. 

The Captain massaged his temples as a resounding boom, flash, and cut off screech filled the arena. Crowe had not only broken through Pelna’s shield, but also managed to dash him against the ground hard enough to knock him unconscious. She was at his side, checking him over apologetically. Nothing broken, aside from some pride, and a probable concussion. 

“I’ll take him to the hospital. Crowe, no more magic in combat sparring! Tredd, if you don’t like the taste of dirt, change your approach! Luche, you are in charge while I’m gone. After drills, run through the warp course- focus on precision. And when we get back, meet in the briefing hall. Crownsguard wants to run security simulations in the castle- joint exercise might be good for us all.” Titus called out, after hefting the noodly Pelna in his arms.

Various murmurs of assent rose behind them as they left. Pelna came to a few minutes later, groggily settling into a seat in a crown fleet vehicle. The trip to and from the hospital was uneventful- Pelna would be fine if he took it easy, it was a mild concussion. The glaive was more embarrassed to have been carried off by his boss after passing out. The paperwork was minimal, and they were out of the hospital in no time. The glaive seemed more steady as time went on, but there was a slight wobble to his movements as they got back in the vehicle.

“I’m sorry for being a bother, thank you for the ride.” Pelna stated, eyes down as he buckled in.

 “I take care of my glaives. Be thankful it is only a mild concussion” Titus stated fondly.

By lunch they were back, and Titus explained the proposed joint field exercises with the crownsguard. The glaives seemed open to the idea. The captain delegated requisition forms work to Pelna for the afternoon, and asked that Crowe check in on him every so often. With peace seemingly achieved, Titus left them to afternoon resistance training and cardio. 

Crowe descended on Pelna the second the captain was out the door. 

“I was out of line, I am so sorry- are you ok?” 

“Mild concussion, just a bit tired. I’m ok, just don’t hit so hard, ok?”

“Yeah...I’ll check on you, no napping while concussed.” Crowe hugged him softly, smoothing his hair where it stuck up and running a finger where his left eyebrow no longer was. Pelna smiled softly, and hugged back. 

“Take it easy, Khara. I’ll be up after the first rotation.” She smiled, lightly tickling him under his arms. He flinched, squeaking, and fled when her smile turned predatory. She chuckled at his swift retreat, and turned to the weight room, where the other glaives had started. 

One rotation later, Crowe trotted up the stairs with a mug of tea to and down the hall to the offices, to find Pelna semi-asleep over a stack of forms and files. She smiled and slid the mug over the desk. 

“Pels? Peeellls? Wake uppp…” A murmur in response.  

“I brought tea, just the way you like ittt.” A grunt. 

“Please? I know it's hard, and my fault, so here is my support. Wake up!” A grumbled five more minutes mom had Crowe tickling his neck. He squirmed and hiked his shoulders up, slapping lightly at her hands. She slipped a hand under his arm and dug into his pit. Pelna squealed and burst into giggles. Crowe grinned as his arms crashed down, trapping her hand there. She kept it up for just a squidge more and then stopped enough for her to get her hand back. “Awake now?” She grinned at his tired nod. 

“Sorry. The lights kind of hurt my eyes, so I closed them for just a sec…” He rubbed the heels of his palms over his eyes, groaning. 

“Drink the tea, and there are some energy bars left in the snack drawer. I suggest breaks. It helped me when Libertus knocked me into that rock formation a few months back...I still haven’t repaid him for that…” 

“No more injuries today, Miss Altuis. Please?”

“Very well, Mister Khara. Drink, and eat. I promise no blood will be spilled by me today. But you gave me a lovely idea.” Pelna nodded tiredly and lightly sipped at the tea, letting the caffeinated warmth soak into his bones. Crowe skipped lightly back down the hall. Second rotation was about to begin, she had to hurry. Down the stairs she saw the door ajar and heard voices on the other side. Impatiently she yanked the door open and squawked as ice water drenched her, bucket settling over her head with a solid clunk. Laughter echoed throughout the weight room but stopped when they saw just who they had drenched.

Time stopped as she lifted the bucket, fire coursing through her veins. She scanned the room, looking for the guilty party. There. Libertus and Nyx, trying to look innocent for the amount of time it took for her to cross the room and lob the bucket at them. 

“We weren’t trying to drench you! Tredd was being a dick, and ran to get something...We were supposed to get Tredd!” Libertus said as Tredd burst back in the room, pausing at the puddle in the doorway, and then at the sight of Crowe sopping wet, holding a giggling Nyx by the throat. 

“So unprofessional. Such children. Much wow.”  Tredd grinned and turned back to the machines, continuing his reps. 

Crowe snarled, shaking Nyx, and released her grip on his shirt only to grab at his waist. Nyx yelped and curled in on himself laughing, just as she knew he would. She clawed into the meat under his floating ribs, earning a squeal, and followed as he sank to his knees. Crowe smirked- Nyx never could take side tickles, especially if you got your nails in there just right. Nyx squished himself forward into a tight ball, howling. She plopped down onto his back, searching for just the right angle. He thrashed weakly under her, and cried out to Libertus for help.  

“C’mon, we still need him. Release.” Libertus grunted as he attempted to slip an arm around her, only to be bitten on said arm in response. Libertus jerked back hissing. Crowe found the spot she was looking for, and Nyx broke into what the internet would call ugly laughter. He screeched and pleaded for mercy between desperate guffaws.

All in the weight room were now watching the kerfuffle as Libertus struggled to pry Crowe off Nyx. Libertus was easily the strongest glaive save the captain, but she was fighting dirty- biting, kicking. Calls of encouragement to Crowe, snickers, and fond sighs echoed around the room, training forgotten. Nyx was screeching in tears when Libertus finally hauled Crowe up, only for her to twist in his grip and jab into his ribs. He cursed and folded inward for just a sec, long enough for Crowe to clamber on his back and begin blowing vicious raspberries on the back of his neck where the braids left him exposed.  

“Release! Release!” Libertus roared, violently twisting to shake her off, getting desperate. Crowe never waivered, and continued as his strength waned. 

“How long do you think he will last?” Tredd snickered to Luche from his perch on the rowing machine. Luche leaned against the wall, smiling as Libertus started to snort between his growls at Crowe. 

“Dunno. He’s held on pretty good for a while now. Compared to some, anyway.” Luche gestured to Nyx, still panting in a ball on the floor mats. 

Tredd nodded, chuckling as Libertus broke, still thrashing, into a giggling fit punctuated by snorts of random intensity. Luche stretched, glancing out the one window- the storm still raging, even stronger now, since the rain appeared to be going sideways. Tredd snorted at the scuffle, drawing Luche’s attention back to the present. Libertus tapped out and Crowe relented with a smirk, sliding off his back and landing with a laugh. 

“Cardio in ten, then cooldown and then home.” Luche murmured. Tredd nodded absently, collecting his things, writing down their current weight and reps. The other glaives did the same, slowly collecting themselves and ambling toward the arena for laps and sprints. 

Pelna groaned, stretching his shoulders. So much damn paperwork for such stupid things. Every little thing from weapons to office supplies to toilet paper had to be requisitioned, signed, and returned for financial approval. This fucking sucked. He rubbed his eyes, and glowered at the stack of forms, slightly smaller, but still there. The captain stomped in then, looking worse for wear. 

“How was the meeting?” Pelna tried to appear chipper. 

“Slow. The council wants to challenge every little bit of our budget, and the king had little to offer…” The captain said, the anger in his eyes cooling into exhaustion.

“We're in this together, we appreciate you taking care of us.” Pelna glanced up, re shuffling the stack of papers. Drautos nodded, and walked back to his private office in the back of the cubicles, lightly shutting the door. Pelna shook his head. That. That was worse than doing boring forms all day. He couldn't imagine having to argue for toilet paper and keep a straight face. He turned back to his work, but startled when a loud pop and a shout exploded from Drautos’s office. Pelna shot up in concern, hearing vicious cursing, a second pop, and what sounded like furniture being tossed around. He was halfway across the office floor when the door to the captains office flung open, revealing Drautos, disheveled, wild eyed...and covered in fine, bright pink glitter. 

 “Are you ok Sir?” Pelna’s jaw dropped, then closed as he took in the fury building in the captain’s eyes and frame. The captain wordlessly held up the empty glitterbomb, and pointed to his office. Pelna slowly leaned around to peer into the sparkle blasted space. From the spray, it was rigged to blow when someone opened the main desk drawer, pointed right where one would sit at a desk, chest height. The second charge coated everything else. It was everywhere.The walls, part of the ceiling,the desk, cabinets, couch...the entirety of the floor...it would never come out of the cheap industrial carpet entirely…

The captain shook himself like a dog, shedding a fair amount of pink sparkles, but as with any fine glitter, it stuck to his skin and clothes. Pelna watched in silence as the captain strode over to glare into the mirror by the small kitchenette in the corner. He snarled, and rounded on the backpedaling glaive. 

“You're not the type for this kind of stupidity, Khara. Did anyone come to visit my office?” Pelna shook his head, glancing worriedly at the door. Drautos was not one for outbursts- his control was normally too strong, but the ridiculousness of the situation had worn that away.

“I don’t know who did this, but when I find out who..” Drautos grinned, all teeth. 

Pelna nodded, slowly backing towards the door. It might have been the light. It might have been Pelna’s concussion messing with his sight, but with a boom of thunder the power flickered out and Drautos’s eyes glowed blood red in the dark. Pelna’s heart skipped a beat as the captain laughed, talking to himself about what he was going to do to the prankster. It was too much, the glaive backed slowly out of the offices, turning to warn the others.

The group prepared in the arena, lightly warming up. The usual three laps around the arena for a main workout, and then one lap interval sprints for max overload. Lightning flashed overhead, the carbon dome of the arena showing the storm’s fury on full display. The glaives looked up into the gale. Some sleepy, some calm, some excited, and some indifferent. But they all looked. And the power flicked out. Murmurs of surprise flicked around the group, then of concern when Pelna warped into the arena. He staggered with the landing- stupid to warp while concussed- but he looked like a man on a mission. 

“Drautos is coming! Whoever in the mother of fuck did it needs to run for their lives- stat!”

“Who did what?” Luche steadied the teetering glaive, putting an arm around him for stability. 

“Who did what indeed, my glaives…” Drautos rumbled from the hallway entrance. There was a collective intake of breath at the sight of the captain of the kingsglaive plastered in pink glitter prowling along the edge of the arena. The newer glaives choked back grins, and the more experienced glaives barely held back dropped jaws. Pranking each other was one thing- a common occurrence even!- but glittering the captain? Unthinkable. Until now.  

“Since nothing is sacred, the afternoon cardio session will be different from the usual. I want the prankster. Until I get a name, we are going to play a little game.” The glaives dared not to move as their captain circled, grinning with no mirth. No one said a word as Drautos spun, shedding sparkles like a murderous Tinkerbell, typing in a long string of numbers into a security keypad. The building shuddered slightly, and red emergency lights flicked on every so often. Enough to see by, but not enough to see well. Lockdown. 

“Sir?...” Libertus began in concern, but was cut off by a laugh. 

“Lockdown, as you know, means that the doors to the outside are shuttered and barred, as are the windows, and passageways to the rest of the citadel. We are locked in. There is just the domed arena, and the facilities in the corners- the offices to the north, barracks in the east, armory in the south, and holding cells in the west... I want a name.” 

The glaives glanced at each other nervously. Pelna looked at the most rambunctious glaives- Nyx, Tredd, Libertus, Crowe, Luche...all had the wild eyes of kids being blamed for something they didn't do. The others peered into the darkness, innocence on their sleeves. Pelna’s brow furrowed. Who the fuck did it? 

“Until I get a name, we will be playing unfair hide and seek. For the next two hours, I will seek- and drag those I catch into the holding cells. Those who are caught will run laps and polish the armory for the next week.” A communal gulp spread through the soldiers. 

“Those of you who manage to remain free will have no punishment. If I get a name, all get off free and we forget this happened.” The group inhaled and steeled themselves. Nobody had a name to give, or had the balls to speak up. 

“Very well...you have two hours.” Drautos slid his phone out, set an alarm, slid it back in, and growled at his glaives. 

“One, two, three…” He slapped a palm over his eyes and snarled.

 Reality shimmered in the arena as all glaives present warped away at once, in a wave of effervescent fire, with an incredulous captain angrily counting to one hundred in the epicenter. The fleeing soldiers fanned out once out of hearing range. Pairs or trios of friends slipped into the gloom together, hoping to hide out, or have the option to sell eachother out. Nervous energy crackled in the dark between the red emergency lights. Where to hide? Who would get caught first? Excitement tinged the anxiety, and grins flashed in the maroon glow.

Pelna staggered down the southeast hallway- warping while concussed was awful, but doable. He glanced left- a pair of glaives scampering into the armory- Nyx and Libertus. The armory had crates of gear, weapon racks, a cargo bay, supplies....stacks of things to hide in or behind...not a bad idea. Three glaives slipped him on his right, headed towards the barracks. The barracks was the obvious choice for any seeker to start- rows of lockers, cots spread in small groups, little clusters of couches and tables. Not many glaives used the barracks often, it was just a spot to crash and heal between deployments, or for new recruits who hadn't any outside lodging arranged yet. Rent was fucking cheap, and so was the food brought in from the keep’s kitchens. Pelna stayed a month once, when he first started. It worked. 

An arm wrapped around his waist, and Pelna jolted back to reality, barely managing to restrain the punch to Crowe’s now grinning mouth. She pulled him into the shadows as a panicked shape skittered past. She held a finger against her lips, and pointed upwards. Pipes and vents ran the length of the hallway ceiling, supplying heat, air and water to the facilities. He raised his surviving eyebrow. There wasn't enough room for her to squeeze up there, let alone him, or that the air vents probably would not take their weight. She tugged him along, to the doorway to the armory, and pointed up again. He grinned- the main vent widened and dropped lower as it snaked into the armory. There was enough room for someone to curl up there in the darkness against the ceiling, definitely Crowe, probably Pelna. But both? Not without some severe cuddling. She dropped her stance, hooking her fingers together, gesturing to boost him up. His eyes widened, and he started to shake his head, but approaching footsteps quashed his thoughts. He stepped up, and jumped, boosted by Crowe. Pelna hauled himself up quickly, and slid into the shallow, low space. He spun, listening intently. He heard a grunt, and then grunted himself as Crowe popped up and tucked herself into his chest cavity. He held back a noise of surprise as she pressed her face into his neck, making herself comfortable. Or as comfortable as anyone was going to get wedged between a vent and drywall. The skittish steps passed as a lone glaive darted into the armory. They relaxed. 

“How did you know about this spot?” Pelna whispered.

“Growing up with Nyx and Libs taught me to find little nooks to hide in. Perfect spot to snipe paintballs from.” Crowe breathed, and Pelna felt her feral grin against his throat. 

“Still. How did you know we would both fit?”

“Promise not to tell?” He promised.

“Perfect napping spot. If you go to the office doorway, the hot air return is above the door. I've got a bit of canvas so my skin doesn’t stick to the metal, and some blankets up there. It's heaven.” She smiled. 

“That sounds like heaven. Can I steal a nap or two up there?” Pelna breathed. 

“Sure, as long as you leave snacks as tribute, and keep the secret..” He nodded.

The door below them to the armory crashed open. His arms slipped around her in shock, holding her close, both holding their breath, listening hard. They couldn’t see, but they could imagine.

“Here I am, glaives! Come out, come out, wherever you are…” Drautos called out into the dark armory. Silence greeted the captain, but he knew better. He grinned, settling into the game. He wanted to play with his glaives, a little mind game could give him a name faster as their nerves failed. He growled into the gloom, stalking around the edges, looking for disturbed gear and boxes. Nyx watched from his perch laying flat on the roof of a transport van. The captain was sticking to the upper armory, tapping on storage crates, Nyx was safe for the moment. As long as the captain didn’t come and check the spare vehicles by the loading dock…

The captain's snarl forced his attention back to the present, and Nyx trembled minutely. Drautos was almost to Lib’s crate- he had stuffed himself in an empty weapons crate, the only kind big enough for him to squeeze into. The captain continued along the row, tapping some, opening others….Nyx gripped the van’s roof rails tight. He was almost there. Two crates away. One crate. Libs! 

A choked sneeze echoed through the armory as Drauto’s hand descended towards the crate. The new recruit that slipped in at the last minute. He had dove behind a stack of crates by the door just as Nyx clambered up the van. Drautos grinned madly, teeth shining in the red light. The internal screaming was palpable from all parties but the captain, who personally favored evil glee. Nyx winced at the short scuffle. The captain had the new recruit in cuffs and out the door in under a minute. 

Hearing the two sets of steps pass, one steady, the other not so, Nyx peeped over the van roof. He hopped down, and ran as quietly as he could to Libertus. He tapped the lid, just like they used to do in their treefort back in Galahad before it all burned. Libertus cracked the lid slowly, then opened it fully at the sight of Nyx grinning like a madman. 

“He almost had you! He was right here! If that newbie hadn’t sneezed!” Nyx whisper-gushed. 

“What if he comes back? Get back up there!” Came the whisper-shouted reply. 

“It’s fine! It’ll take at least five minutes to lock up the newb and get back here. We have to stretch when we can. How comfy is that box anyway?” Nyx looked at Libertus, all crammed down in that cube crate. 

“My neck is killing me, but I’m good. Now hide! If we get caught cuz of you…!” 

Twin shadows darted into the armory, and Nyx jumped into the crate with Libertus without a second thought. It didn't quite work though- Nyx was now straddling a kneeling Libertus, their legs stuck solid against the sides of the crate, arms steadying each other. Nyx felt Libertus vibrate in silent fury, and he struggled not to laugh at the entire situation. 

The shadows paused, and stepped closer to the struggling pair. As they passed an e-light, their identity was revealed.  

Tredd snapped a pic with his phone, and did his best not to make any noise while laughing his ass off. Luche wheezed into a fist, trying desperately not to collapse at the sight. They gestured wildly at each other- Nyx waving happily, Tredd curling his hands into a heart in response, Luche pointing at the space under a nearby weapons rack, Nyx giving a thumbs up, and Libertus flipping everyone off. Luche slid under the rack and Tredd hid under a coat rack packed with old cloaks behind the doorway- after helping get the lid over the now officially stuck pair of galahdians in a box. 

Crowe and Pelna could partially see and hear all of the shitshow that happened next. The fact that their screams and laughing fits escaped notice was a miracle. It was fast, maybe two minutes, but the Citadel would never forget the moment when all dignity was lost. Time slowed, yet sped up at the same time. Like a demonic Rube-Goldberg machine on crack with yakety- sax playing in the background. 

Drautos returned to the armory with a sense that others were still hiding there. He threw the door open and bounded in. The door flew wide open and hit a pile of cloaks- something supposedly soft- with a painful clonk and a groan. Something on the far side choked on a giggle, and something close by it thumped in place. Drautos grinned, and advanced into the room uncaring of the poor glaive behind the door. He listened hard, and a large crate in the middle thumped again. The captain braced himself and popped the lid. Then all hell broke loose. 

Libertus shrieked and flailed, tipping the crate over on its side with Nyx cackling wildly plastered up against him. Drautos roared in surprise, then roared in laughter as he realized two of his finest were hopelessly stuck. Tredd launched out of his hiding spot with all the grace and glory of a boosted turkey, sprinting out the door and taking the coat rack with him. Luche gave up on life and howled with laughter, clutching his ribs. And Drautos? He showed why he was captain. 

In a mad dash that would be immortalized in glaive mythos forever, Drautos hauled his crate of glaives over one shoulder, snatched Luche and slung him over the other, sprinting after the sentient panicking coat rack. The captain dropped Luche, gathered every ounce of his strength and yeeted Libertus and Nyx, screaming, at the running pile of cloth. Tredd made it to the edge of the arena before he was blasted with the box-shaped force of several hundred pounds worth of galahdian hysteria. The cloth and soft training floor absorbed the worst of the blow, the glaives landing in a tangled mess of limbs and cloaks. 

Drautos, dragging Luche by the leg, jogged over to admire his work, Luche now sobbing with helpless laughter. The captain gently plopped Luche down with the others and planted a boot on the crate, looking down at his soldiers. Nyx was in much the same state as Luche. Libertus hissed and spat like a cat, frantically trying to claw his way out of the crate. Tredd laid there like a slug, seemingly done with the world- probably examining the life choices that brought him here. Drautos stretched and loosed a puff of glitter on the pile of squirming glaives. 

“Anything to say for yourselves?” The captain growled playfully. 

They opened their mouths to reply, but were cut off by the lights flickering back on and the lockdown features sliding back into normal position. The main door clanged open- the king, flanked by his shield and the marshal strode in. Regis froze at the sight, seemingly unable to believe what his eyes were seeing. Clarus’s mouth worked silently, at the same processing error of his liege. Nobody moved until Cor Leonis coughed pointedly into his fist. Sonitus and Axis strode out uncertainly from behind a column. Pelna and Crowe staggered out from the hall, leaning on each other and still giggling wildly. 

“I take it you found my gift?” The Marshall called. The glaives inhaled deeply before breaking into a cacophony of rage, amusement, and confusion. 

“I have a name…” Drautos pulled himself up to his full height and fixed his eyes on the marshal. He tossed his cell keys to Axis. 

“Release the prisoners. No punishments. This never happened.”

#glaiveweek2020 #glaiveweek #kingsglaive #fluff #pelna khara #crowe altius #titus drautos #nyx ulric #libertus ostium #luche lazarus #tredd furia #sonitus bellum #axis arra #glitter bomb #regis lucis caelum #cor leonis #clarus amicitia #unadulterated silliness #beginning pelnaxcrowe #Nyx dies if you tickle his sides just right #Drautos is done #Regis is more done tho

[luckyfirerabbit]

Jaune Doe: Pt 1

It was phoned in as a noise complaint, not unheard of in a busy city like Argus, but still a cruiser with a pair of officers was sent out to have a look if for no other reason than someone's peace of mind. Lie Ren and his partner, Nora Valkyrie, drew the short straw and were dispatched just before midnight.

It's a Sunday night and schools were in, so most of the neighborhoods were quiet and functionally traffic free at this hour, but Ren still drives like it's rush hour: both hands on the wheel and both eyes on the road with his back straight as a board. His partner, on the other hand, slouches a little with an elbow propped on the door to brace her jaw. She consciously resists the urge to prop her feet on the dash board, knowing Ren doesn't like it and not being in the mood for his trademark gentle lectures.

"So what do you think it is?" Nora asks, anything to break up the dull roar of the engine.

"The caller said it sounded like broken glass, but there was a lot of noise just after it. Might be a jumper."

"God, I hope not. I don't need that right now." Nora visibly cringes. "But they didn't see anything?"

Ren shakes his head, flipping the signal before turning through a quiet intersection. "They were out on their fire escape when it happened, said it sounded like a couple buildings down from them."

Nora shifts in her seat, sitting a little straighter but still looking uncomfortable when she settles. "I really hope it's not a jumper."

"I'll take point when we get there." that way, if it is, he'll see it first and she won't have to see it at all.

(--)

The fall was jarring, painful, worsening the state of his threadbare consciousness that makes him teeter on his bare, bloody feet that much more. There's glass in his hair, his hands, his heels, and he absently wipes at his chest in a reflexive attempt to tidy up. He blinks furiously, hands haphazardly rising in front of him as if to ward off obstacles that he can't possibly see. Everything is broken, blended, like the world is made of spiderwebs being simultaneously squashed together and pulled apart. His stomach lurches and he hits his knees, another shock of pain that does nothing to ground him.

He crawls then, still no thought towards his direction or destination, on that it's less painful this way. The dead heat in his throbbing brain keeps him unsteady, his shoulders and hips swaying like a lame animal's would. He tips against a wall of brick, jolting and whimpering at the awful, abrasive and unforgiving masonry. He's panting so hard, broken ribs struggling to contain his lungs and his speeding heart. But no amount of air is enough to quell the desperate clawing in his guts, the feeling like he's dying.

Somehow he pulls himself up, forgets that he even did it as those dragging seconds blink to the moment he realizes he's upright again. He's wiping at his front again, pushing off the buildings sharp corner and hobbling out of the shadowy alley and towards the curb. Just before stumbling into the street, headlights flash against him, seeming to carry its own sort of invisible force as he simply drop to the pavement. It was just too much, he couldn't take any more. When the singular bright light is joined by flashing red and blue ones, his arms flop across his eyes, but it isn't fast enough to stop him from throwing up.

The driver door on the police cruiser swings open, voices of a harried back and forth coming from the opening before the officer does. Ren puts his partner to task radioing dispatch before rounding the door to approach what looks like a man lying in the street. He had seen streaks of blood in the headlights, but he would have stopped regardless after seeing him collapse. For safety's sake he's pulling on latex gloves before kneeling down.

"Sir?" Ren tries, shying a little as the man lurches with a wet groan. "Sir, can you hear me?"

Maybe. Maybe not. Right now all he can focus on is the need to lay on his stomach. The asphalt is cool and he wants the chill in his skull.

"Sir, I'm officer Lie Ren of the Argus Police Department," he doesn't try to move him, much less touch him just yet, "can you tell me your name?"

Nope. That's burned right out of his head.

"Sir, I can see you're banged up pretty badly, my partner is calling for an ambulance, okay?"

The man flops on his back with another pained groan, eyes tight against the still too bright lights. Now Ren can see the glass and the blood on his face and the almost unnatural amount of sweat pouring over his skin. With a gentle hand keeping him still, Ren pulls the penlight from his breast pocket. "Sir, I need you to open your eyes for me. Just for a second."

He shakes against the command he barely understands. Something primitive in him knows eyes plus lights equals bad. Then there's one frantic burst of confusion as something touches his face, easing the lids apart and exposing him to a horrific instant of brightness that makes him shout out loud.

"I'm sorry, sir," Ren immediately removes his hand from the man's face, put keeps the one on his shoulder in place to stop him from thrashing. His now free hand touches the radio at his own shoulder. "Nora, please expedite those responders, his pupils are blown." Overdose, maybe. Is he our jumper? How did he make it out here like this? If it's drugs...what is he on? "Just take it easy, sir, help is coming."

(II)

Pyrrha Nikos scowls as she walks through the halls of the hospital, her scroll pressed between her cheek and shoulder so she can open the lounge door without missing a word from the other end of the line. Still listening she sets down her briefcase on one of the empty tables, her brow only seeming to tighten as she makes way for the communal refrigerator.

"You do remember what joint custody means, right?" her voice is both stern but hauntingly soft. "Do we need to go back to court?"

"Come on, Pyrrha, think about what that would do to Diana." shrugs a man's voice from the other end.

"If that's what you're worried about, maybe ask her what being kept away from me is doing. I get her on the weekends, judge's orders, and this will be the fifth weekend in a row you've kept her."

"What do you want me to say?"

"That's you'll stop this nonsense and adhere to the agreement."

"The judge wouldn't hear it the last time you filed a complaint, doubt that'll change."

Pyrrha's nostrils flare as she tries to tame herself. "Don't make me push any harder than I am already. This doesn't have to get ugly."

"That sounds an awful lot like a threat, Pyrrha. Be careful, or I'll have to tell the judge you're harassing me." The tone toes the line between smug and feigned concern.

"Cardin," she bites.

"Fine. You can pick her up tonight before I leave for work. If you're late she's going to my moms, and you can sort it out with her if you want."

Pyrrha exhales. "Thank you. I'll see you later." Then she frowns when there's nothing but a click from the other end. She'll buzz her lips, trying to push it down in the same way she pushes her scroll into her pocket.

"Piece of work, that one."

Pyrrha jumps, air hissing between her teeth in surprise. "Gods, Billy, I didn't see you."

The hulking, silver haired faunus chuckles as they lounge back in their chair. "Sorry to startle you."

Pyrrha laughs at herself a little as she tries to get back to what she was doing, which was making herself a cup of tea. "Are you usually here this early?"

"Had a special admission last night, had to stay late." They reach up to stretch, yawning. "I'm just waiting for Starborough's night report before I go home."

"Oh yeah? That bad, huh?"

"Bad enough to need both of us." they nod. Billy is head of security at Argus' Northwest Municipal Hospital and has been for more than a decade. "In fact, after I go over said report, it's going into the case file that will eventually be on your desk."

"Oh, you shouldn't have." Pyrrha grins, finding the tea bags and setting them out on the counter next to the water heater. "Can you give me anything right now? Kind of brief me?"

"I don't have much, but," they shift in their seat, propping one elbow on the table. "Your buddy cops brought in a guy, early to mid twenties, kinda noodly, no shoes, no shirt, no service; poor kid was strung out of his mind."

With her back to them, Pyrrha winces to herself.

"He was real dazed when he first got in, cooperative because he didn't know any better, I guess. Cut and bruised all to hell. But he got real mean when they tried to put an IV in him."

"Understandable, I mean," she turns, waiting for her water to heat up, "I hate needles too."

"Not like this you don't. It took me and Starborough and your buddy cops to keep him still enough for the coats to hook him up. Damn near climbed Starborough to get out of that bed."

"Gods have mercy." Pyrrha's eyes are wide and disbelieving. Sahv Starborough, a tusked faunus, was comparable in size to Billy, maybe wider in the middle but no less built. The two of them had nicknames: twin peaks, push and pull, double trouble, and that's just the one's that Pyrrha knows about. The idea that anyone could almost overpower either of them just seems ridiculous.

"But you know Sahv took it in stride, it's because of all the time she spends working with the little ones an the old folks." then Billy chuckles again. "But this guy literally had a hold of one tusk, and she's keeping it together enough to use her soft voice, you know?"

Pyrrha just nods, smiling, able to hear it in her head. Sir, I know you're upset, and that's okay, but I need you to let go of my face, please. She shakes her head, turning back to the water heater when it chimes. "I'm assuming, since you're here, that he eventually calmed down?"

"Not when I last checked, no." all the humor is gone from their voice now. "They had to strap him down so he didn't hurt himself, and they can't give him anything to mellow him out until they find out what's up with his blood work."

Pyrrha is quiet for a moment, dipping her teabag in the foam cup she pulled from the cabinet. Then she sighs. "Poor guy."

"Yeah. But maybe he dozed off on his own...it's been quiet down there for a couple hours."

"Here's hoping." She leaves the bag at the bottom of the cup to steep, then moves to retrieve her briefcase from the table. "You'll drop the file off when it's ready?"

"Sure." one curt nod followed by another yawn.

"And will you stay long enough to show me pictures of that beautiful baby of yours?"

Billy just blushes and grins, all teeth. "Yeah, sure. See you then, Nikos."

**********

threw this together in a couple hours, and in the meantime Wild Hunt is just sitting there mocking me. Probably will do more, just don’t expect a schedule.

#JNPR #jaune arc #nora valkyrie #pyrrha nikos #lie ren #rwby au #jaune doe

[victorian-lad]

So this is the first chapter of a Villain Deku fanfic I’m working on. Please don’t destroy my bad writing skills. It gets better, I promise.

‘Can I be a hero too?”

“Without a Quirk? I should think not, young man.”

All Might’s cold, final words echoed in my head, triggering the tears that slipped quietly down my face, something they did entirely too often these days. I leaned forward, pressing my palms into the sockets of my eyes, trying in vain to stifle the pain from within.

It was one thing to be called useless by Kacchan but to hear the man I had idolized all my life tell me I wouldn’t amount to anything, that I could never even brush at my dreams,... that cut deeper than Kacchan’s constant taunts ever would.

Then again, perhaps years of his bullying had desensitized me to the sting.

Yet again, my eyes traced my long time favorite video of All Might. Fond memories of fangirling over this video as a younger child flooded my senses.

More tears slipped from my already bloodshot eyes. I had already shed so many tears that my face was raw from the saltiness of my tears and all I could taste was salt. Yet again, I wished I had Kacchan’s anger to drive me; he would simply rage at something as crushing as this, rebelling against the universe rather than lay down and cry.

Weak.

I was always the weak one, the useless Deku. Worthless, Quirkless, Futureless.

Why couldn’t I just have All Might’s strength? Why was the universe so cruel? What had I done to deserve this?

The darkness of the inky shadows in the subway tunnel stood out in sharp contrast with the mango light of the setting sun, with its bright warmth catching warmly on the wispy clouds. I stepped out of the sunlight, immediately feeling the coolness of this protected alcove, always untouched by the sun.

Small traces of dirty slime from the villain clung to the walls, darker than dark against the charcoal concrete.

I trailed my fingers limply along the wall, trying to hold back the treacherous tears that pricked against my ears, scratched up my throat, closing in on my airway. Why?

Why?

I let a few warm tears slid pathetically down my face, falling against my lips and dripping down my chin.

“I thought I might find you here.”

I whipped around hands coming up in front of me, ready to use what little I had against whatever villain came at me a second time. After all, my quirkless ass wasn’t worth All Might’s time twice.

“Relax. I just want to talk.”

“What do you want?”

“I don’t know. What do you want?” My unseen foe challenged me, condescending yet somehow sincere.

I felt the tears, painless and quiet in and of themselves yet, speaking of the agony within my mind, slipping down my face again. “I want to be a hero. But…”

“But you are quirkless.”

More tears. I was a veritable river of salty sadness. “Yes.”

“Why would you want to be a hero anyway? Your own idol, the man who gave you determination all these years has told you that you’ll never make it.”

“Why would you say that?” I could feel the tears welling up, thicker and more chokingly depressing than ever, clogging my senses, closing up my throat, “You know that his words hurt me! Are hurting me…” With those words, I let the faucet of tears escape, streaming down my face and tracing down my neck, drowning me in my own hopeless depression.

“I am not saying these things to make you cry. I am just genuinely curious why you would want to devote your life to helping people who do nothing but scorn you, tear you down and defile everything about you everyday.”

“Because…”

“Because you want to be like your idol? The same man who told you you’d never be a hero.”

“I mean…”

“You know I’m right.”

I huffed a teary little sigh. My unseen converser was indeed completely correct. My only real question at this point was how the hell this guy knew anything about my conflicts.

“Come with me.” His voice sounded softer now, more kindly, as if he was beginning to pity me. “You don’t have to be a hero to change the world. Let me show you.”

I could almost feel the smile in his words. Whether or not his intent was malicious, he knew he had won.

My last feeble protest fell rather flat, even to my own desperate ears. “My mother…”

“Will be fine. Trust me.”

Strangely, I did.

I stepped deeper into the shadows of the tunnel, following the quiet footsteps of my unseen beneficiary.

The bar was dark, closed in and confining, lit with a strange, reddish light, yet somehow distinctly homey and welcoming.

A small girl, blonde, with space buns and mischievous yellowy feline eyes, bounced up to me grinning wide enough to show her perfectly straight, white molars. She held out one hand, reaching forward to grab my own, limp, sweaty palm without even waiting for any kind of okay.

“I’m Himiko Toga!” Suddenly, she ripped at my arm, pulling me forward with a violence unprecedented from such a minute human being. “What’s your name?”

Anticlimactic for the way she yanked me forward, something my shoulder could attest to.

I stepped back from her, gently pulling my noodly fingers from her shockingly tight grip. “Hello. My name is Izuku Midoriya. And I have no real idea what I am doing here.”

A boy, maybe three years older than I myself, slouching against one of the back walls stepped forward, the tips of his spikey, ink black hair catching in the strange scarlet light. With the faint illumination on his face I could see the rippling, maroon scars that covered much of his face. “We are the League of Villains.”

“Villains?!”

“Strictly speaking, ‘villain’ is a subjective term. We are really just the people that didn’t follow society's rules. Which makes us villains and outcasts. However, you have to keep in mind that most of the people that have changed the world did so by challenging society.”

“Well said Shigaraki.” The spikey haired guy leaned further into the light, causing the crimson light to catch on his bright, flame blue eyes, turning them a strange violet color.

“So you are?...” I nodded toward Scars.

“Dabi. Just Dabi.”

I turned to the man who had lead me to this strange, dark world that I was already immersed in. “And you are Shigaraki.”

“Tomura Shigaraki.”

“And together, you make up the League of Villains.”

“We. Provided you want to stay.”

I sighed, surprised to find that for once, no tears threatened me. “I have nothing to go back to.”

“And you want revenge.”

“Well…”

“Good. Welcome, Izuku Midoriya.”

#fanfiction #fanfic #bnha #mha #villain deku #villain au #izuku midoriya

[thejerkstorecalled]

#Triatus: it’s been a while...

Not only did I take an 8+ month triatus from racing, but evidently from writing about it, too! This doesn’t mean that I haven’t been training or busy. In fact, quite a few things have happened since my last 2016 triathlon:

Half marathon PR (:05 is :05, baby!)

Marathon PR (five whole minutes!)

some fun albeit wet winter riding and climbing, so rainy here in Cali this winter!

A winter training weekend with my new racing team for 2017, Team Freeplay, such as amazing group of ladies!

a fun and festive “hens weekend” in Palm Springs 

a half marathon non-PR but it was my third fastest time on arguably the toughest course I’ve raced and a 2nd OA finish 

a WEDDING! Mine :) it was incredible and perfect 

Leading up to the nuptials, I was doing a pretty solid volume of training, semi-structured even. I did have a bit of wedding hangover from the lack of structure and routine the week of and even a bit immediately following, but within a week or so was back at it, aided by the awesome performances of so many friends at 70.3 Florida. Always so inspiring to watch people race, and it helps get me back in the mindset. 

I was most worried about coming back on the bike given the run training that I’d done in preparation for the half marathon. Perhaps some of my best yet. I had been riding with the guys a good bit throughout the winter and rejoined the group rides after only a short wedding hiatus feeling pretty strong. Coach then had me do a “crash week” on the bike, logging 250 outdoor miles and 6.5 Kickr hours across nine days. I felt great and was really enjoying it. The only thing that started to surface was the result of the rainy season really leaving. This meant that the super bloom equated to super allergies. Windy, long rides outdoors often left me out of commission for the rest of the day or longer and didn’t help recoery sleep. 

As the weather improved, and my outside time expanded to upwards of ten hours or so in a given weekend riding, running, swimming and leisure-riding, my allergies wreaked havoc. I couldn’t breathe. Ever, it seemed. Brushing my teeth was a cardio/anaerobic event. Sleep was intermittent at best. The resulting sloppy trail runs left me bruised and scabbed from tumbles. My cycling still seemed okay, strong even, but my running felt like it was really taking a hit. Intervals were a joke and a half. I was miserable and also concerned that some of my symptoms felt like an overreach for simple allergies. 

I finally broke down and scheduled an appointment with an allergist, and also started a regimen of local honey. Desperate times called for desperate mesasures. The allergist diagnosed and prescribed much of the typical for what I was experiencing, but a bit stronger than the OTC remedies that I was maxing. And then the curve ball: asthma. And an inhaler; for all that wheezing, shortness of breath and tight chest. How could I underperform on a breathing test? I could only say to the allergist “but I exercise a lot.” It threw me off, but I shouldn’t have been totally surprised, as both my parents have asthma, and I specifically remember my Dad - a very active and fit individual - carrying an inhaler for as long as I can recall. It was also partially a relief and an end to a paranoid pursuit of googling things like “symptoms of Lyme disease” as I’d wondered if I’d been ineffective cleaning up after long jaunts on trails. 

I had some interesting (weird?) internal battles that followed during workouts and also my first triathlon back: Folsom International. I didn’t want to be in a haze of medication so I opted not to take any pre-race but to have it for when I finished. I hadn’t done any open water swims yet on the year, so made sure to get transition set up early enough that I had ample time to swim in the water and adjust to the coldish (mid-60s) temps and murky composition. 

The swim started in deep water because of debris from branches and sticks at the lake entrance. My start wave was the last and a bit large, and I started near the front from wide right (typical). The horn sounded, and I started swimming and felt pretty good. Until I didn’t. I wasn’t sure if it was the water (temps or murkiness), the aerobic effort, or my respiratory limitations, but I felt out of breath very quickly. I then started to panic, not eased by the sense of crowdedness. This was exacerbated by the goggles I’d selected, which had limited periphery and fogged up terribly.  I couldn’t see anything, and the buoys I was trying to spot were *white* versus the typical neon orange or yellow. I moved to the far right, which helped, but I ended up implementing a lot of tarzan swimming and breast stroke. Mostly as I swam through large patches of the same kind of debris as was near the shore, moving sticks and branches away from my neck and head. It felt like I was being choked by them. If there had been more kayaks or if I could see them, I might have called it a day in the water. Fortunately and unfortunatley, I have experiences like Ironman Wisconsin and Escape from Alcatraz to pull from, where I was in a crappy swim situation for much more than 1,500 meters!

I was SO excited to be done with that swim, and just wanted to pedal and climb on my bike. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to get on my bike so badly. I had a blast riding the rollers and the bigger, steeper climbs further out on the course. On one of these longer, steeper climbs in the last half of the bike, I rode past a young twenty-something from an early start wave and gave her kudos. She responded by confirming that there were only two more ladies ahead of me. That was exciting considering that I’d started last! I passed one more about five miles up the road. We then went off-roading through a gravel section before getting back to transition where I noticed that the most recent pass had caught up and was right with me. 

The run was on trails, which got me super-excited to get to the run portion of the race. You can’t really be a stickler about pace on trails, so it’s all about effort, chasing people and having fun. I had a sense of urgency departing transition since the other gal was young, and therefore I assumed she’d be fast ha ha! Plus, I had one to catch! I started off feeling okay and progressively felt better as I traversed the changing terrain throughout the run: soft sand, single track, steep fire trails and everything in between. Some folks coming back the other way encouraged me that the other lady was not far ahead. I really wanted to ask: how many minutes and how old is she? If she were younger, there was a good chance that I was actually in the lead. Did I have a buffer?! I felt amazing the last mile or two and dropped some guys that I’d been running it in with, though did not catch the other female (spoiler alert: she was not younger and got me by 2′). 

After I crossed the finish line, I immediately launched into a terrible coughing and wheezing attack. It was at this moment that I realized I’d left all my meds - inhaler included - at home. It was scarry with my obliques cramping through the violent cough fest, leaving me struggling to breathe. 

I didn’t wait around too long before heading home, and my other allergy symptoms had already started to unleash. Home was not close and I wanted to be there so, so badly. I was also starving, but not about to stop for food because I didn’t want to delay my arrival home. The two-hour ride home (Sac Saturday traffic FTW) was an emotional rollercoaster. I felt like now my issues had names and that was affecting how I thought about them. Like they were a real thing that owned me. I felt like I had this dependency now, like I was vulnerable. I hate that. I’ve always liked to feel independent and tough. This didn’t feel that way. The old me, before I knew I had a thing with a name, would have said “I feel like crap, so I’m promising myself a beer, tacos and a hot bath when I get home; until then, I’m putting on my big girl briefs and sucking it up.” This internal dialogue made me upset, mad. 

Over the following days, deciding that I don’t like being dependent on things and that this affliction bothered me less when I thought I was just “feeling like crap,” I decided to forgo the meds. I felt good enough without them, but still needed to use the inhaler when I had episodes that called for it. 

My run came back around over the weeks following and I started nailing my run workout targets. Some of this was the resolution that I was done feeling like crap and it was time to get it done, but it also helped that the temperatues were heating up and the allergens clearing the air. I freakin’ love the hot weather (don’t let me forget this in two months:) ), and have been spending time in the steam room at the gym to assist. This has been a good impetus for me to log a couple short bonus swims each week, post-swim steam room time!

I will say that I’ve continued to struggle on the bike. Trainer rides, and some outdoors, where I’ve had tough targets. It’s the balance of relying on the legs versus the lungs. Being what I’d consider a softer and more noodly* athlete compared to my more muscular counterparts, I’ve always relied on my lung power (cardio, cadence) to get me through tough sessions and intervals. After finding myself gasping through many a trainer workout and feeling on the brink of tears, I’ve had to learn how to lean on my legs, and that burns! 

*this is not for lack of trying! I love my strength training sessions, and make a concerted effort to get a lot of daily protein by way of protein powder in smoothies, hardboiled eggs, greek yogurt, nuts and legumes, salmon. etc

It’s frustrating because my Instagram feed is too many ladies raving about their amazing trainer sessions and these workouts they’ve conquered to achieve their goals and how they feel so great about themselves. And how FUN it is! It’s tough to think about that during a session where you feeling like you’re dying and it’s the furthest thing from fun. My conclusion is that they’re simply not working hard enough if they’re having that much fun, ha! There have been - during and after trainer sessions - a lot of near-tears and declarations to quit triathlon altogether and other things found in the “dark place.” It’s been a learning process so far this season to reconcile how I use my body (legs vs lungs and in between) to achieve the targets set forth. Should be an interesting season...

#triathlon #triathlete #triathalontraining #running #cycling