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chibimyumi · 4 years

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Lizzie’s Campania Dinner Dress REDESIGNED

After having redesigned the Notorious Robin Dress of O!Ciel (click here), I thought I’d try my hands on another well-known dress; Lizzie’s dress on the Campania!

As explained in the post linked above, Yana seemed to not have an inkling of historical fashion knowledge at the beginning of the series. As the series became bigger however, she employed a Victorian Era expert and the results are clear.

In this post I will examine to what extent Lizzie’s dinner dress is accurate and break this costume down from the top, and propose how to “correct” these while trying to keep as much of the original design as untouched as possible.

I. Dinner Dress

Hair

Just like I said in the Robin Dress™ REDESIGN post, needless to say, 19th century people would not have worn twin tails. Wearing the hair down was considered ungroomed for women in the 19th century, but young, unmarried girls were allowed to spare a few hairpins.

Unlike O!Ciel who would always try to strive for a more mature look, Lizzie would aim for the opposite.

In the late Victorian era it was normal to have bangs, but it was proper to have it cut well above the eyebrows. So Lizzie’s bangs only need to be trimmed a bit to be period accurate.

The long dangling fringe of Lizzie’s is a tribute to her mother, but alas, that one does need to go... I do not dare fully risk the WRATH of Frances the Formidable however, so in honour to her, I have kept that bang as much as possible. The sides of the bangs were allowed to be longer in order to frame the face better, but the point remains that the face should not be covered.

(I know, I know, two symmetrical half-arsed fringes would have been better, but I promised to try change as little as possible...)

Victorians hardly ever cut their hair, because the longer the hair, the more feminine and desirable a girl/woman was deemed to be. The aesthetic of hair in 1880s was more in the vertical direction instead of horizontal. Hence Lizzie would probably have worn her curls a bit smaller, therewith using up less hair into the width.

The period wherein people strongly favoured a horizontal aesthetic was approximately 200 to 70 years outdated. If we had to justify what type of hair Lizzie’s hairdo was supposed to be historically, I could only say it is probably the 1670s early baroque hairdo. (I mean... that portrait IS fairly similar to Lizzie’s hair, is it not?)

The hair ornament Lizzie wears is not entirely impossible, just very unlikely for the 1880s. I have kept the weird rosette that she wears, and used them to pin up both sides of her hair. I could not find any visual sources of people wearing rosettes in their hair instead of their chest after earning some type of prize, but since there were no regulations regarding how a ribbon must be tied into a bow, the rosettes can stay.

Neckline and Bodice

The design of the original bodice also requires a bit of work. Just like with the Robin Dress, the main problem lies with the silhouette.

In the height of the Victorian Era, the main endeavour was waist reducing, hence the chest area would be accentuated and “streamlined” towards the shoulder, while the seams would detract from the waist optically.

Instead of the straight design of the chest panel, I replaced it with a fan-shaped front piece, of which the lines would achieve this ‘streamline’ effect.

The halterneck-like neckline as in the original design would have been quite unlikely as it would have made the neck stand out, and make the much thinner neck compete with the desired small waist. The rule of thumb for what aesthetic bodices should have was generally open wide top, closed small bottom (V shaped, not O). Usually when there is a halterneck-line, something else that would redirect the eyes towards the larger shoulder-chest area would adorn the bodice too for compensation.

Thus, instead of the rounded halterneck-line, I replaced it with a straight square neckline. Though square-necks were not very popular in Lizzie’s time, they were not unheard of. Miraculously I happened to stumble upon this illustration from 1889 (exactly Kuro’s present day setting), and herein we can see both the short lantern sleeves and the square neckline.

Decoration wise there is nothing inconsistent with 1889 fashion, but as Lizzie is the daughter to an influential Marquis and the dress is supposed to be a dinner dress, it should be a tad gaudier. The elaborateness of Lizzie’s original dress was more alike that of a daytime walking dress. I did not deviate too much from the original manga’s design, I simply added some gold details that were not there yet.

(The anime’s dress had been simplified for animation’s sake, so my redesign is based on the manga’s slightly more elaborate triple panel decoration.)

This choker ribbon necklace is the same as for the Robin Dress. Like I said before, these were worn by people in the 1880s, but they were not standard for fancy night time events. However, as it is technically not historically ‘inaccurate’, it can stay.

Waistline

Just like the Robin Dress, Lizzie’s waistline is the most historically inaccurate part that renders the entire design a period amalgamation.

First of all, I gave the waistline a pointed end and swagged the inner skirt up towards the hips for a dramatic V-shape. The bow-sash worn around the waist was something that was in fashion during the 1780s and 1790s, and was part of the ‘Chemise de la Reine’ look that was named for and popularized by Marie Antoinette.

Fashion trends do always come back every now and then, so a ribbon bow is not necessarily taboo. But the height at which the bow sits on the original dress would guide the waistline towards the hips, which would have gone against the small-waist aesthetics of 1880s, which would have been taboo.

Hence, I removed the sash entirely, and shoved the bow itself to the back (more on this below.)

Skirt

Again, the same problem Yana had with the Robin Dress; the bell-shaped silhouette that would be at least 30 years outdated by 1889, so I simply reduced its volume.

The split panel front however, was common in the 1880s, as such it remains untouched.

The dress code for formal events would require a floor-length hem for dresses, but a dinner party such as the one on the Campania would be semi-formal, and Lizzie who strives for a very youthful look would have been able to get away with a shorter hem. Hence, the skirt length also remains unchanged.

Bustle

“Does this dress make my butt look small?” would have been the question women asked. Late Victorian fashion just LOVED a huge behind, and the bustle was the absolute star of any feminine outfit.

The design of the ornaments on the original dress is actually spot on, except that it would simply lie flat over the skirt, rather than help the skirt get a large bulge.

So for the redesign, I have decided to use the golden bow that sat at the front to draw the attention towards the maximised behind. Underneath I used the original triple row tails, and flanked this decoration with large pleats to produce a dramatic back. For completion’s sake, I have added golden embroideries to the pleats so that the large golden bow will not just sit there as a random piece of ornament.

Shoes

I could find relatively few sources on late 1880s shoe fashion, so my caveat here.

Lizzie’s d’Orsay type of shoes were not standard in the 19th century England, but they were definitely not impossible. 1880s d’Orsay pumps were a bit more closed around the lateral arch, but the technique to make completely open d’Orsays was already available in the 1600s, and wildly popular after the 1830s. As I could not find any sources on when they stopped being popular, I think Lizzie’s shoes would probably have been acceptable.

What I do propose to change is the point of the toe. Only very, very young girls (up to age 4 ish) would wear a rounded nose. Slightly older children and adults would wear pointed toes instead.

The only other thing I propose to change is only a “problem” if I were to be perfectly pedantic and nitpicky; namely the arch of the shoe. Arches of the shoe until the 1910s were mostly straight, and did not have the same arch as our natural feet have. So in order to create the perfect 1889 shoe silhouette, I straightened Lizzie’s shoes too.

Y’all still with me? Good. Now comes the trickiest part, THE UNDERWEAR, a.k.a. Lizzie’s Battle Suit.

II. Battle Suit

Lizzie’s dinner dress was actually fairly historically accurate, earning a personal Chibimyumi rating of 6.6/10 in total (as opposed to Robin Dress’ miserable total rating of 4.1/10). Her Battle Suit however, scores less well, reaching only a 5.4/10.

Chemise

Victorian undergarments were nothing like our contemporary ones. If you have no breasts then it is easy, but if you do... well, a bra is bad enough, right?

Well.... In the Victorian times women wore layers on top of layers, of which the first was the chemise. Contrary to popular belief, people did not wear corsets directly on their skin. Corsets were very hard to wash, thus the chemise served to both protect the corset from getting dirty, as well as absorb the sweat.

Yana did do pretty good research as attested by her not having fallen for this popular misconception. Lizzie does indeed wear a type of chemise underneath her corset, though I would say that the sleeves are too elaborate for the dress she has chosen to wear on top.

Such elaborate sleeves were worn to be combined with smaller sleeves so that the lace can protrude from underneath, giving the entire outfit a little icing on top (like the lace at the chest). Lizzie’s dinner dress has lantern sleeves that would not reveal any of the chemise’s sleeves.

Chemises were washed quite regularly, but lace is a very expensive and delicate material. Hence, in order to minimise wear-and-tear, people would probably have avoided wearing ultra fancy chemises if it cannot be seen anyway. But who knows. Lizzie is a rich kid, she probably has enough lacy chemises at her disposal. Still, just to be perfectly historically accurate, I gave her chemise simpler sleeves.

Corset

Unlike the chemise, corsets were not regularly washed, and thus elaborate lace was very desired.

The large ruffles on the chest of Yana’s design however, are probably a tad too elaborate, and judging from the thickness, they could easily disrupt the smoothness of the outerwear.

1880s corsets were generally not very decorated as their function was valued over anything else. This corset I found dating from 1887 is the most elaborate authentic one I could find, and it indeed strongly resembles the one Lizzie wears. However, as even this one does not have lace protruding as much as Lizzie’s, I have toned the corset down too for the redesign.

In the 1880s, both corsets with and without front closure were worn. However, the pieces as elaborately decorated in the front would not have front closures. Hence I removed the hook and eye closure in the redesign.

The thing that is the least accurate about Lizzie’s corset is the boning structure. What produced a well-shaped waist was not how tight you lace the corset, but the structure of the boning. An unlaced corset of that time would have looked much ‘curvier’ than any tight-laced straight-boned corset.

By the late 1880s, boning techniques were so advanced that they were very soft and flexible, and yet also provided the firmness necessary for the desired look. The straight paneled type of boning drawn by Yana was outdated and strongly advised against.

Finally, the mini-skirt at the bottom of the corset is cute, but I have yet to find one like that in the 1880s. I don’t think that tiny piece of fabric would disrupt the desirable silhouette, but there will be PLENTY layers on top, so I removed it just to be sure.

Skirt

The skirt - or rather, everything that happened UNDER the skirt is a stack of complexities.

The most bottom layer would have been the underwear with trouser-legs, layer 1. Layer 2 is the protruding hem of the chemise, that may either have been long or short. But the chemise and the underwear are the only things that were worn UNDER the corset, hence the frilly-frilly skirt we see Lizzie fight in should have been the chemise, and not the underskirt.

The chemise was never something as wide as the one drawn by Yana, and could therefore not achieve that flare effect. I know it is absolutely gorgeous, and from an artistic point of view I myself would not have done otherwise. But as I am doing historical fashion research and redesign, I shall compromise myself and settle with a narrow skirt. The skirt would probably have been so narrow Lizzie would have trouble fighting. So it would not have surprised me if she decided to make a large split in it, or rolled it up and tucked it under her corset.

The frilly underskirt we see Lizzie wear should be layer 4 rather than 2. If we study Lizzie’s dress, we can see that the frilly part is a separate piece of clothing, unlike what the anime-art suggests.

Underneath this layer, there would have been a bustle (layer 3) that was strapped around the waist, over the corset. Like I explained before, bustles were essential to any Victorian dress. They came in many shapes and sizes, but I have settled with the simplest one.

Should we wish to keep the frilly skirt, then we need to keep in mind that Lizzie would have worn FOUR layers, which would hardly have made it any easier for her to navigate through the water than before. So why bother remove the dress and expose herself at all then? Hence, all layers from layer 2 on will sink with the Campania.

From our 21st century point of view, the Battle Suit looks quite cute, and we would probably just wear it like that. But if we consider down to what layer a real 1889 girl would have to have stripped, and how many somewhat embarrassing contraptions had to be removed first before reaching some level of mobility, we can probably understand how embarrassing it truly must have been.

Well, I had tons of fun doing this research, and I learned a great lot about what corsets really were (and not the inhumane torture devices they are claimed to be). I hope you all also had fun reading this too. (*´▽｀*)ノ

【Related post: Ciel’s notorious Robin Dress™ REDESIGNED】

【Related post: Redesign: O!Ciel and Sebastian in different eras】

MASTERPOST My Art

MASTERPOST Furukawa Era Kuromyu

MASTERPOST Gender in Kuroshitsuji

MASTERPOST Analyses & Info

#Kuroshitsuji #Black Butler #Redesign #design #Campania #Campania Arc #Luxury liner arc #Lizzy #Lizzie #Elizabeth Midford #historic accuracy #Historic fashion accuracy #Historic fashion #fashion

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jokertrap-ran · 3 years

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(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Main Story Chapter 2-5: 时间针脚 The Patchwork of Time Translation

“What are you standing around in a stupor for? See a ghost?”

*Light and Night Master-list *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *Main story tag will be #For Light and Night

Behind the glass wall were several blurry figures busying around.

MC: This should be Team A's area.

Mya had suddenly called a few minutes ago to give me directions to the place I was supposed to report to.

I ran what I was going to say to everyone, in the form of an introduction, through my head once more before gently clearing my throat and opening the door.

❖☆———————————★❖

MC: Hello everyone, I'm—

Thunk!

The sound of metal heavily hitting the floor cut my words short as the handle of the door completely fell off.

MC: !?

Did I break it? No way! I broke the office's door on my first day here!?

I didn't quite know what to do for a while. One of the figures closest to the door turned slightly around at the noise.

He had a head full of spiky hair, like that of a hedgehog. He didn't spare even a glance at the door handle; instead, his gaze fell directly upon my person. He shot up from the seat of his workstation.

??: Yoooooou!!

MC: Sorry! It wasn't on purpose, I swear!

??: You're the newcomer that's supposed to be coming in today, right? Sister Zheng Lin, we've got an extra hand!

He excitedly yelled at the other end of the office.

This isn't quite turning out like how I imagined it to be...

Summoned by his yell, a plump woman speed-walked towards us. Her smile was friendly, but there was a sort of unconcealable exhaustion marring her features.

Zheng Lin: Hello. Welcome to Team A. I'm the leader, Zheng Lin.

MC: Hello. Um… I accidentally broke your door handle just now… Sorry…

??: Aw, that thing's been dead half a month ago. We just didn't have time to call someone down to fix it. Don't mind it, yeah?

??: C'mere. I'll bring you to your workstation. Your stuff looks pretty heavy. I'll take it for you, yeah?

He enthusiastically takes the office appliances I'd brought in from my hands and continues walking straight ahead.

Zheng Lin: That works too. I'll leave you to bring her around to meet the others then, Brother Mao. I'll come over once I'm finished up here.

I nodded, following after "Brother Mao".

Brother Mao: I'm Mao Ge, but you can call me Brother Mao! The best rock singer among all Designers here!

He grinned, pulling out a chair and gesturing for me to sit. He then magicked out a rag from god-knows-where and quickly gave the table a wipedown.

Brother Mao: You were 2nd place in the contest, right? We all watched the broadcast; it was absolutely brilliant.

Brother Mao: Especially when you chose Director Qi of all people. Boy, that was a killer! How did you dare to pick him?

Brother Mao: Forget his face, even his breath alone is an icy sub-zero.

Brother Mao: Ever seen an iron tree bloom? I'd say even that's slightly more common than seeing Director Qi smile.

Brother Mao: I'm not talking about his cold smiles, of course. We see that way too often.

MC: Eh? … I just thought getting him to review my work was a rare chance that I couldn't pass up on.

Brother Mao: You go, girl! Looks like we've finally got a competent person in Team A! Feel free to ask me anything if you face any problems in the future! I've gotcha covered!

He grinned, patting himself on the chest to further emphasize his point. He'd already assembled and laid out all of my office appliances on the table at some point in our conversation.

Brother Mao: Alright, everyone! Put everything down. Let me introduce to you our new buddy, (Y/n)!

All the people around me nodded in greeting as Brother Mao introduced them to me one-by-one.

Brother Mao: The one dressed in a Cheongsam is Li Man'man. She came here a minute earlier than you and braved through 3 interviews just to enter Warson.

Li Man'man: Hi, nice to meet you.

Brother Mao: And that's Chen Che, our team's tailoring genius. He's been here for nearly 4 years and has just been promoted to a Senior Designer.

The guy named Chen Che raised his head from the multitude of fabric surrounding him. He adjusted his glasses and gave me a wary look.

Chen Che: Hello.

It was at this moment in time that a guy sporting a quiff hairdo walked past us. His head was haughtily raised and his expression was one of utter disdain.

Man With Quiff Hairstyle: Hmph.

MC: And he is…?

Brother Mao: Don't mind him. He's an annoyance. He just failed the promotion test and is being the green-eyed monster to everyone right now.

I only nodded, not knowing what to say.

Brother Mao: That one over there's Hao Shuai, the trendsetter of Team A and also the King of Werewolf games.

Hao Shuai: Wanna play Werewolf? I'll host one next time, but not now...

Hao Shuai buried his face with a sullen expression as Brother Mao quietly pulled me aside to a corner.

Brother Mao: He's not been in too jolly of a mood these few days. He didn't manage to get promoted to Senior Designer, so he's been pretty depressed about it.

MC: Sounds like it's very hard to get promoted up a rank...

Brother Mao: Precisely! Although Warson has a rank promotion system in place, the way things are being assessed in them makes it scarily hard! People normally have to do it five or six times before they manage to get themselves promoted.

Brother Mao: And, you might even get demoted a rank if the work you turn in doesn't make the cut!

MC: That strict!?

Brother Mao: I'm a Junior Designer like you. I've already taken the assessment around…

Zheng Lin: 10 times.

Brother Mao: You remember all so well, Sister Zheng Lin.

He gallantly retrieved another chair for Zheng Lin to sit on, seemingly paying no heed to the embarrassing number of tries he'd gone through.

Brother Mao: Don't they say that failure's the mother of success? I just have to get a couple more of those and it'll net me a great success!

I laughed at his joke along with Zheng Lin.

Zheng Lin: Our assessment system is just stricter than others.

Zheng Lin: Even though everyone is free to design whatever they like with their creativity as the limit, becoming an actual Fashion Designer is some serious business.

Zheng Lin: Those capable of joining us here in Warson are all talented individuals. Hence, what's really being tested in those assessments are your passion and perseverance.

Zheng Lin: I've welcomed hundreds upon hundreds of rookies during my 10 years here in Team A, but most of them drop out after failing the assessment 3-4 times.

MC: Eh?

Zheng Lin: Firstly, everyone who first comes here holds high self-esteem, so they're a bit more sensitive to criticism. And it is only natural for people to find it unbearable, especially after having been criticized a lot.

Zheng Lin: Secondly, there's a limit to the type of jobs that can be given to Assistants and Junior Designers, so things often end up being boring and repetitive

Zheng Lin: It's hard to go on like that if you don't have the right sort of determination.

MC: ……

Zheng Lin was about to say more when the door slammed open with a "bang!". Several people stood at the entrance, worry written all over their anxious faces.

Colleague A: Can someone consolidate all of Sliver's Autumn-Winter fabrics into a document?

Colleague A: I still have to go down to the mall and conduct surveys and research so I won't be able to do that in time!

Colleague B: Some trouble cropped up regarding the visas of the foreign models who're slated for a shoot next week, so we need another 18 new ones!

Colleague B: What should I do, Sister Zheng Lin!?

Zheng Lin gave a helpless sigh.

Zheng Lin: I'd originally wanted you to let you get used to things around here, but we have our hands full… Do you mind helping us?

MC: … Sure thing!

Zheng Lin: Then, could you first help us by going to the warehouse and picking up Silver's Autumn-Winter fabrics and consolidating them into a sample book after?

Zheng Lin: You can get Brother Mao to help you check it through once you're done.

I nodded and joined the fray.

Time went by. And finally, I finished my very first task after an hour. Brother Mao told me to take it up to the Team A representative who was in the meeting after checking through it.

❖☆———————————★❖

It was clearly noon soon, yet the doors of the meeting rooms on both sides of the corridor were still tightly shut, I could occasionally hear the sound of loud discussions coming from within.

❖☆———————————★❖

MC: Excuse me, I'm here to deliver the fabric samples.

Pushing the door open, I saw a Designer who was in the middle of loudly explaining his idea while Sariel held a pen, looking down at the document in his hand.

All the other Designers were either listening intently or hurriedly sketching out their new ideas, having been struck by a sudden wave of inspiration. It was almost as if the very air itself was crackling with ideas, going head to head with each other, gathering and merging into a brand new storm of ideas.

I’m going to be taking part in meetings with everyone in the future too… I couldn’t help but jump for joy at the exciting notion.

Placing the fabric catalogue book down, I couldn’t stop myself from taking one last glance at the meeting room before I left.

❖☆———————————★❖

Brother Mao: Oh, right. Don't forget to retrieve the catalogue book once the meeting upstairs is done.

MC: Okay.

❖☆———————————★❖

Everyone left after the meeting ended. I picked up the scattered pieces of fabric, stacking them neatly into a pile. It was only then that I noticed a pen lying on the ground.

The pitch-black pen was see-through, slender, and sturdy, with three gold-stamped petals at the very end.

MC: This is...

An image of Sariel wielding this pen with his head bowed in thought appeared in my mind.

MC: Is this pen his? It certainly suits that icy countenance of his...

❖☆———————————★❖

I bent down to pick it up, but the moment my fingers brushed against it… I suddenly felt an inexplicable sharp jolt of pain piercing my head.

My heart clenched violently, almost as if a nightmare that had been buried deep within its depths was about to be awakened. The stifling feeling of sadness and despair washed over me together with the odd feeling of my heart having been impaled by something.

What’s going on?

I pressed against my chest, trying to get through this sudden bout of pain that came out of seemingly nowhere.

Sariel: What's going on here?

There seems to be a faint voice ringing through my ears. The pen was taken away from me the next moment. Gone with it were the odd sensations.

I blearily looked at Sariel who had suddenly popped up from nowhere, still slightly woozy in the head.

Sariel: What are you standing around in a stupor for? See a ghost?

MC: I don't know what happened to me earlier…

Sariel: That's what I'd like to ask you.

☆Light Choice: Explain what you felt earlier

I shook my head, trying to recall that odd sensation you felt earlier.

MC: I… My chest and head just suddenly started hurting.

MC: I know I’m in the meeting room right now, but it kind of felt as if I wasn’t here at the same time…

MC: Like a nightmare, you can never wake up from…

Sariel’s expression changed minuscule bit upon hearing the word “nightmare”.

Sariel: How about now?

MC: I'm fine now, and the uncomfortable feeling's also gone.

Sariel: Has this happened before?

MC: Once…?

★Night Choice: Conceal what you felt earlier

MC: I just felt a little light-headed… I'm okay now.

MC: Oh, right. I picked up your pen.

I pointed towards the pen that he'd already reclaimed, which was now in his hand. Sariel only frowned.

Sariel: You felt light-headed after picking up this pen?

It was only when he mentioned it that I realized that that seemed to be the case. But what would a pen have anything to do with a bout of dizziness?

Sariel coldly grabs my hand, making my heart stop cold in my chest. However, all he did was stare at it in silence for a few seconds before releasing me just as quickly.

MC: What are you looking at? Is there something wrong with my hand?

Sariel: Nothing. It's well and fine.

What's up with Sariel? Grabbing my hand out of nowhere like that and not even telling me the reason why...

So, I ended up giving my hand a thorough check as well. There was nothing off about it, but I couldn't help feeling a little worried.

I'd also experienced some "auditory hallucinations" back then at the rooftop…

MC: Maybe I should go get myself a check-up at the hospital just in case…

Sariel: You look pretty peppy on your feet to me. Doesn't seem like there's anything physically wrong about you.

His gaze smoothly slides up from my face to the top of my head as he spoke.

Sariel: Though, I can't say the same about the other parts of you.

MC: ……!

I was fuming, yet I didn't dare to express it with a vehement glare. Seeing how riled up I was at it, yet unable to do anything about it, a flicker of a smirk made its way up to a corner of his mouth.

This was my second time seeing him smile today… The iron tree has bloomed…

Sariel: Are there flowers growing on my face?

I shook my head.

Sariel: A ghost then?

I shook my head again.

Sariel: Then why are you looking at me as if you've just seen a monster?

MC: You just smiled. It's too rare of a sight.

Sariel: … How stupid.

He put on a straight face as he pocketed his pen and turned to head out.

Suddenly remembering something, I hurriedly pushed the door open and ran after him.

MC: Wait a minute, Director Qi! Are you free right now?

❖☆————— ⊹ For Light & Night⊹ —————★❖

Previous Part: (Chapter 2-3) | Next Part: (Chapter 2-8)

#光与夜之恋 #Light and Night #Otome #Translations #Tencent #萧逸 #Osborn #齐司礼 #Sariel #陆沉 #Evan #查理苏 #Charlie #夏鸣星 #Jesse #For Light and Night

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five-rivers · 3 years

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Long Night in the Valley chapter 14

“It’s Bakugo.”

“Old Bakugo,” said Todoroki.

“I don’t know,” said Uraraka. “He hasn’t sworn at us yet.”

“Wish fulfillment old Bakugo,” corrected Todoroki.

First contact, said two voices. Aizawa could recognize one as belonging to Two.

“Stop comparing me to the exploding brat,” snapped Two. He returned his attention to Midoriya. “I don’t agree with your philosophy,” he said. “But this isn’t the time or the place.”

Midoriya nodded even as he swayed in place, the edges of his body fuzzy.

“Your idea will work. Eight can take him.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Aizawa.

“Nine here just ran into that fire user.”

“Dabi,” supplied Midoriya, voice thin. “Thank you for letting me use your quirk, sensei.”

“Anytime,” said Aizawa.

“Is there anything we can do?” asked Uraraka.

“Stay back and don’t distract him,” said Two. “I’d send you on ahead to One, but I need to give him my power if he wants his ridiculous escape plan to work.” He crossed his arms. “Focus, Nine.”

The thing was, Dabi relied on his quirk to the exclusion of everything else. Which was fine. It was a powerful quirk, and his body really wasn’t up to quirkless fighting, seeing as it was literally stapled together.

But there was a reason he had not faced Aizawa himself in the training camp, but instead had delegated that task to one of Twice’s duplicates. No matter how much his quirk hurt him, no matter how much it reminded him of that man and that time, he did not fare well in fights without it.

Toshinori and Izuku had picked up on this, and, thanks to the joys of partial telepathy and haunted quirks, had managed to come up with a plan.

It was, if Izuku was being honest, a sort of terrible plan, but Izuku and Toshinori were both injured and exhausted, and it was the best they could come up with.

Izuku would hang back and cancel Dabi’s quirk, while Toshinori beat him to a pulp.

This division of labor was decided upon through the observation that Toshinori had much greater experience in beating people to pulp and that Izuku probably wouldn’t be able to focus on using Aizawa’s quirk and fighting at the same time. But Izuku worried. Toshinori had been under so much strain today. His body was in just as bad a shape as Dabi’s. If Izuku blinked.

So don’t blink.

What a comforting consensus from the peanut gallery in the back of his head.

Nana chuckled, but she sounded strained. Not much else we can do for you right now, kid.

Toshinori was prepared to fight dirty.

As a hero and Symbol of Peace, he was often faced with the expectation that his fights be clean, straightforward affairs. Usually, he complied with the expectation. Few people could match his strength. Few enemies stood up again or kept fighting after he knocked them back, once. For those enemies who could match him, relatively clean fights were often still the best option to defeat them.

But there had always been exceptions, All for One being chief among them.

Toshinori could fight dirty. It was a skill he knew better than to let lapse.

He knew how much old injuries could hurt, and he had no scruple against going after them. Any weak point was fair game.

(This wasn’t even beginning to mention the others, still whispering in the back of his mind, who had maintained the thin line between the light of hope and the darkness of despair for so many years.)

His fist impacted the line of Dabi’s medical staples. Toshinori felt them bite into his knuckles, felt Dabi’s skin tear around them.

The man – the boy, really, he couldn’t be more than a handful of years older than Izuku – reeled back, shaking his hands as if he couldn’t quite believe his quirk was gone. Then he looked up, at Izuku, and Toshinori could give him this, at least: He caught on fast.

He snapped an arm out, clotheslining Dabi before he could pass him and attack Izuku. Dabi hit the ground, and Toshinori tried to follow up his advantage with a sharp kick to the head.

But, even with as much experience as Toshinori had, Dabi was younger and sprier. He recovered quickly, retaliating with comparatively clumsy but strong fists.

Toshinori was very aware of the time limit he was on. How long had Izuku kept his eyes open already? Aizawa could only keep his version of the quirk going for a few minutes.

He knew when Izuku started to waver, the concern of the past users going clear and sharp in the back of his head.

Dabi’s hands burst into flame.

“Touya!”shouted Izuku.

The man whipped his head around, apparently forgetting that Toshinori was even there.

“We saw your hair dye, you drama queen!”

Toshinori grabbed the sides of Dabi’s head, and tried to slam it into his knee, but Dabi pulled free. They were both breathing heavily, now, but Izuku had his eyes back open and fixed on Dabi.

Toshinori doubted they’d be so lucky to distract Dabi again. The others slid into place in his mind, their experience neatly complimenting his own. They needed to finish it before Izuku had to blink again.

They raised their fists.

“Visit your mom, you loser!”

They closed in.

“At least tell the police what happened to you, so they can get your siblings out!”

So, it turned out Izuku did have something else to contribute to the fight.

“Please repeat what you told me earlier,” ordered the HPSC president.

The hapless liaison with the DNA testing center flinched, then hid the flinch behind a cough. “Well,” he said, “our technicians ran Midoriya’s DNA through a number of databases, and Midoriya is related to the Scourge of Kamino, but, uh, I think it best if I let her explain the rest.” He stepped out of view of the camera, the coward.

The technician waved at the camera. “Hi, uh. So, I guess the first weird thing about the sample you gave me was how contaminated it was. There were, like, almost a dozen different people’s worth of DNA in the sample you gave me, which… usually Hawks is better than that? But then I remembered the nomu DNA, and the Scourge’s DNA, so in retrospect… Anyway, I sort of ran them all through our databases—”

“Which databases?” interrupted Mr. Brave. “The commission ones, the police ones, the public ancestry ones?”

“All of them,” said the technician. “I ran them through the old ones, too, because the Scourge of Kamino is supposed to be over a hundred years old, isn’t he? I’m kind of surprised he wasn’t run through the old databases himself earlier. You could have closed dozens of cases.”

“Get on with it,” hissed the offscreen commission liaison.

“But I ran them through, and, uh, one was All Might.”

A whisper ran through the room. “He stole All Might’s quirk?” asked one hero, traumatized.

“I don’t know,” said the technician, nervously. “I mean, All Might was there, so it could have just been contaminated in the normal way, but… No, I’ll come back to All Might’s DNA in a bit. Then there were three other heroes’ DNA, Skyrunner, Fidelity, and Lariat.”

“We’ll have to assume he has their quirks, too,” said the commission president grimly, for the benefit of the assembled heroes. “Continue.”

“Another matched to the vigilante Forewarning. Then one matched to what was labeled as a 99% surety DNA sequence from Tempest.”

“My god,” said Mr. Brave.

“Then there were some sequences that matched to samples taken from the scenes of various crimes and terrorist actions but are otherwise unknown. That left two DNA samples that could be Midoriya’s assuming he isn’t over a hundred years old. They both matched as relatives to the Scourge of Kamino.”

“What kind of relatives?”

“Uh, one was rather distant, and was actually had the least DNA present out of all the other strands… The closest possible relation would be half-brother, although cousins might be possible… The other was a parent-child relationship, and the most present DNA sequence, so I would assume that one belonged to Midoriya. The thing is…” She trailed off.

“We don’t have all day.”

“The thing is, all of the different people I’ve mentioned also are related to the Scourge of Kamino.”

Silence.

“Excuse me,” said Mt. Lady, raising a hand. “Did you say all of them? Like, including—”

“Including All Might, yes, though he’s probably more like a great-grandson or something along those lines,” said the technician. “Once you get more than a generation or two, it’s hard to tell, because the ratios of what you get from grandparents aren’t even…”

“Do you have anything more to add?”

“Yeah. After running them through the databases… Well, there are dozens of active heroes that are at least loosely related to either them or the Scourge of Kamino, not to mention villains, common criminals, and civilians who had to register their DNA for one reason or another. And the ShiHi cell line? The one that replaced the HeLa line in almost every drug trial after the quirked population got majority status? That’s a perfect match.” She laughed, clearly on the edge of hysteria. “I mean, I don’t know what we expected. He’s over a century old, of course he’s going to have kids and family members. And he’s – And he’s clearly into shady medical research. Wouldn’t put it past him to have donated to sperm banks, the sick—”

The commission president muted the technician. “You see,” he told the heroes, “why we must act to contain and neutralize Midoriya Izuku as a threat as soon as possible. So many heroes being related to an archvillain like the Scourge of Kamino would damage confidence in the hero system, perhaps irreparably.”

“Are any of us-?”

“I don’t think that’s relevant right now, do you?” asked the commission president, smoothly. “What is relevant is ensuring that Midoriya’s DNA family tree never gets into public hands.” He fell quiet, scanning the heroes with dark eyes. “Regardless of whether or not any of you could find yourselves in it, the fact of the matter is that the ensuing investigations would lay bare other things you may not wish to come to light.” He cleared his throat. “Now, Hawks is putting together a team to track down the League of Villains. In light of recent revelations, we believe they have been working closely with Midoriya…”

“Maybe you can use my quirk,” said Shouto. “If you’re fighting Dabi, ice would be the perfect counter.”

Midoriya shook his head. “You’re not related. Can’t.”

“What?”

Two sighed. “The trick he did with your teacher’s quirk only works on people related to him.”

Shouto blinked, then turned to look at Aizawa. “Sensei—”

“Absolutely not,” said Iida, loudly.

“You don’t know what I was going to say,” protested Shouto.

“You can’t ask people if they have secret love children! It’s improper! Let us simply wait quietly like, ah, I’m not sure we caught your name earlier, sir.”

“No, you didn’t,” said Two.

“In any case, let us wait quietly,” said Iida, not one to be easily put out.

“I’m related to Midoriya?” asked Aizawa in tones approaching despair.

“You are,” said Two. “I think you’re related to one of my younger siblings, like Six is. Possibly to the Shimuras, as well, given the secondary portion of your quirk.”

“So,” said Shouto, the gears in his brain turning, “Midoriya is related to all of you?”

“Some more distantly than others, but, yes.”

“So, he based you off relatives and people he knew in real life.”

Two sighed heavily. “Look. That was obviously a lie. Six only bothered with it because of that government bastard that’s crawling around.”

Midoriya had been right. Shouto’s conspiracy theories could be used as an interrogation technique.

“Then what’s the truth?” asked Shouto. “Or are you just embarrassed, like Midoriya is about how All Might is clearly his father?”

Midoriya made a very distressed sound, and Shouto realized that maybe this wasn’t the time.

“You have no room to talk when the pyromaniac currently trying to roast Eight is your older brother, you peppermint styled weirdo.”

“You really are like Bakugo.”

“Do you have some sort of death wish?”

“C-can you guys not? This is hard…” said Midoriya. Then, he gasped and fell to his knees. “He got him. Oh, gosh.” He took a deep breath. “My eyes.”

“Luckily, you won’t need them for this,” said Two, kneeling in front of Midoriya. “In the movement, I was called Shadow Dragon. One came up with the name. He named my quirk, too. Perception Filter. Wanted to name it Chameleon Circuit for a while, but that made no sense. He was such a nerd. He’s still a nerd.”

“Yeah?” panted Midoriya. “Guess that… isn’t a surprise. He used old manga to support his arguments with—No, it doesn’t make it better that you only used that argument once. I mean, sure, I’d probably have made the same—”

“Focus, Nine,” said Two, snapping his fingers in front of Midoriya’s face.

Shouto stepped forward.

“It’s okay, Todoroki,” said Midoriya. “I’m just… How did it work? The Perception Filter?”

“No idea. We didn’t have fancy tests and doctors on hand to figure out the mechanics. But I can tell you what it did. When it first came in—” Midoriya nodded at this, as if he heard something in the sentence that Shouto was missing, “—I could disappear from the senses of one targeted person, along with anything I was carrying. Sight, hearing, smell – that last will be the important one for you.”

“Gigantomachia,” said Midoriya, nodding again.

“Exactly. Later, I was able to affect more people at a time, and my range grew. The fewer people I was hiding from, the farther I could reach, up to about a mile. Sometimes, I could draw attention towards myself, too, although I could never keep it up for long.”

“Activation?” asked Midoriya.

“Don’t think too hard about being hidden. You’re blending in. Part of the scenery. No ripples on the surface of the pond. A shadow inside a shadow.”

“Okay,” said Midoriya. “I think I’ve got it. Were you… were you ever able to hide other people with you? Otherwise…”

“Sometimes I thought I did. When Three and I worked together, we were always way luckier than we should have been, and there were some incidents with cars… But it never happened in a way I could test. Your best bet is just carrying Eight.”

“R-right. Okay. I’ll try that.”

“Izuku, you can barely open your eyes. Or stand up. You aren’t going to carry me.”

“But Two said—”

Toshinori frowned deeply and hoped Two got the message. “Just focus on yourself, right now, alright? Gigantomachia will be looking for you, first, not me.”

We’ve always been thankful Gigantomachia isn’t the brightest of All for One’s minions.

Even if he is one of the most annoying.

I don’t know if annoying is the word I’d use…

Toshinori blinked and shook his head. “You’re shaking,” he said.

“I’m okay,” said Izuku, trying to get up. “T’many quirks at once.”

Toshinori put his hands on Izuku’s shoulders, silently telling him to stay down. What a time to forget where he had packed the blankets… Although…

He looked back at where he’d propped Dabi, unconscious, up against a tree.

Dabi seemed to have a cold resistance vestigial mutation… although how Toshinori knew that was a mystery for another day (one probably connected with how One for All manifested in Izuku) and he was a fire quirk user. He didn’t really need that jacket. Besides, Toshinori was a villain now. Sort of. As he and Izuku had discussed earlier, villains were veritable bastions of pettiness.

He stole Dabi’s coat and wrapped it around Izuku’s shoulders.

Miles away, trying to coordinate heroes over a video call, Hawks lost contact with one of his feathers. Specifically, the one he’d hidden in Dabi’s coat. He did not frown, twitch, stutter, or otherwise falter. He did, however, curse internally, using words he suspected the hero commission would have like him to never have learned.

Dabi must have found the feather and destroyed it. Hawks had thought he’d hidden it better than that.

This was going to be a pain to explain.

Giagantomachia paused for a second, then, with a howl, redoubled his attacks.

“Can anyone tell what he’s screaming about?” demanded Tomura.

“No idea!” said Toga, her cheerfulness more than a little ragged.

“Hey, boss!” said Twice. “If I made a double of this guy, do you think they’d fight each other, or – Dear god, who in their right mind would want two of these things running around?”

“LITTLE LORD,” wailed Machia, “WHERE DID YOU GO?”

“Say, Shigaraki,” said Mr. Compress, narrowly dodging a boulder, “you don’t – ha – think he’s referring to the little green haired – er, white haired – oh, you know what I mean.”

Yeah, Tomura did, actually, which meant the brat (who might be Sensei’s brat – don’t think about it) was around here somewhere, and they’d missed him.

(Like everything else about this situation, Tomura had mixed feelings about this.)

“So, maybe, if the boy and the giant are acquainted, the mother—”

“Do all of you idiots have a death wish? You don’t fight two bosses at once unless you want to be pancaked.”

“I was thinking she could perhaps calm the giant—”

“Yeah, right before they team up to kill us. What part of this are you not getti-?”

Mr. Compress didn’t quite make the dodge and was catapulted into one of the few nearby trees that were still standing. As he lost consciousness, all of the various marbles in his pockets ballooned and broke, disgorging their contents. This meant that Tomura had to rescue Midoriya Inko from being crushed between an entire bus stop shelter (why, Compress, why?) and several logs, because if there was even a chance that she was Sensei’s wife, Tomura didn’t fancy his chances at staying alive if she was unalived in his general vicinity.

As Tomura was in no way a goody-two-shoes hero student, had never trained himself to safely save people, and had a quirk that literally destroyed everything his touched, this went far from perfectly.

At least Midoriya seemed unharmed.

“Ah,” she said. “My shirt.” She shifted slightly. “And my bra…”

There was a shout of utter rage from Gigantomachia, and Tomura contemplated just letting Machia kill him. Surely, being stomped flat by a man taller than most five story buildings would be less painful than whatever Sensei would come up with.

“Oh, my, Machia, is that you?” asked Midoriya Inko, quite calmly, as if she weren’t standing half naked in the middle of a battlefield in winter. “It’s been forever.”

“MRS. LORD!” shouted Machia, his eyes tearing up. “I AM SO SORRY! I LOST LITTLE LORD!”

“Oh, really? He was here, then?” Her eyes were glittering. “I’m sure he couldn’t have gone too far. If we walk around a bit, I’m sure he’ll hear us calling. In the meantime… perhaps you can explain to me what, exactly, you do for my husband? Your role in his business seems to have been downplayed.”

“Is that better?” asked Toshinori.

Izuku nodded tiredly. Despite Two’s instructions, he couldn’t keep up Perception Filter and, well, do anything else, really. Toshinori wasn’t much better. Izuku could tell, through One for All, that he was also on his last legs.

“Alright. Let’s keep going the way we were before,” said Toshinori, pulling Izuku up. “Got to get out of Gigantomachia’s range, so you can sleep.”

He did not say that reaching the Wild Wild Pussycats’ camp was now out of the question, with how beaten up they were. They’d be sleeping outside tonight. Hopefully they had enough clothes and blankets…

Izuku shuddered as the pounding sensation in his head increased.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” said Toshinori, guiding Izuku with a hand on his back. “Good, you have the briefcase, good.” Toshinori kept muttering encouragement. Izuku really wasn’t paying attention, which made him feel terrible, but he had to keep Perception Filter going. He had to keep going. Just a little bit more… Aizawa-sensei and his friends were almost to One. One would get them out before he broke through.

He just had to hold on until then.

Midoriya’s form flickered and then faded. Two sighed.

“Is he alright?” asked Aizawa. “Is he safe?”

“As safe as he and Eight can be, wandering through a forest filled with All for One’s minions while the government tries to track him down in the middle of winter,” replied Two. “Which isn’t very safe, speaking from experience. Come on, let’s go.” Two walked out the hole in the wall, not waiting to see if Aizawa or any of the kids followed.

“You’re calling Yagi Eight, now?” asked Aizawa.

“That’s his number, yeah. Hurry up.”

“Yagi, not Yagi’s… impression, his copy in Midoriya’s mind.” Two didn’t answer. “You aren’t impressions or copies at all, are you? You’re real people, somewhere, that Midoriya is connected to. Why pretend otherwise?”

“Some of the others thought Nine could fix things with the government, if they didn’t know what was really going on. Thought it would be ‘worth it.’ So stupid, after everything…” They walked through the compound gate and into a living room.

“It seems awfully contrived, though. Why try to be dead heroes? Why pick people like Skyrunner and Fidelity to impersonate?”

Two snorted. “They weren’t impersonating anyone. They really are Skyrunner and Fidelity. Except for Eight and Nine, we’re all dead, otherwise we would have finished this by now. Eight almost did, all on his own.”

They turned a corner. Two young children played in a bedroom while a teen watched on. One child was obviously a younger version of Two. That hair was distinctive. The other child had a short curtain of white hair. They had action figures they were playing with, although Aizawa didn’t recognize who they were of.

First contact, said a single, young voice.

The face of the teen leaning against the wall was scribbled out, as if with a marker.

“Don’t look too closely at that one,” said Two.

“Who is that?” asked Uraraka.

“All for One. I suppose you’d call him the Scourge of Kamino.”

“He’s your older brother?” asked Todoroki, his eyebrows raised into his hairline.

“Don’t be disgusting. Biologically speaking, he was my cousin.”

Oh, no, thought Aizawa, don’t tell me... “Is he the one you have locked away? The one you don’t count as being ‘among your number?’”

Two sighed again.

“Are you doing that instead of swearing?” asked Todoroki. “The sighing, I mean.”

“I told you to stop comparing me to the explosion brat! I—” Two tsked, then frowned. “Something’s not right.”

“What is it?”

“This isn’t a safe memory, just a quick one. One should have been here to pick you up by now.”

“What do you mean, it isn’t safe?” asked Iida, before Aizawa could. “No matter how immersed we are here, it is only a memory, isn’t it?”

“You did hear the part where he’s breaking in, didn’t you? And the part where we’re all real people? Are those glasses just for show?”

“The real All for One is trying to break into Midoriya’s mind,” said Aizawa.

“W-wait,” said Uraraka, “but… Izuku… That wouldn’t mean that the commission was right…”

“Of course not. Nine would probably cut off all his limbs before betraying his friends. Even if I don’t agree with him, and think he shouldn’t… I can still see that. But where is One?”

“Why are you telling us this?” asked Aizawa. “You’ve told us why the others didn’t. But you have no reason to say anything, yourself, do you?”

Two turned slightly, to gaze at Aizawa out of the corner of his eye.

“As long as we’re waiting, I might as well collect as much information as possible, right?”

“It’s insurance,” said Two, finally. “It’s hard to see how this will turn out. Eight wants to take Nine out of the country, but even if that works, All for One will still be here. Someone else needs at least part of the story.” He turned more fully to face Aizawa, lips pressed tight against his teeth. “You have to understand. I want Nine to… do well. I don’t want this on him. He’s a kid. So are you.” He looked at the students, then back at Aizawa. “You’re all kids. If I can get someone else to take care of this for him, while he and Eight are somewhere safe…”

“All for One is in Tartarus,” said Aizawa.

“You think something like that’s going to stop him? I’m not entirely sure death would stop him. It didn’t stop us, and he’s at least as stubborn.”

Well, wasn’t this an impossibly heavy weight to set on Aizawa’s shoulders.

“I have no sympathy, you lazy caterpillar lookalike. You’re an adult, aren’t you? Get help if you can’t do it yourself. If I find out you pushed it onto children, I’ll kill you.”

“Wow, he’s secretly soft, too, just like Bakugo,” said Todoroki. “Are you sure you’re not related.”

“There is legitimately something wrong with you. Do you—”

The hinges of the vault snapped, and the door crumpled outward. Another well-placed kick sent the door tumbling outward with a crash.

Shaking his hand, All for One stepped into the mindscape and smiled.

“Well,” he said, dragging his gaze over the assembled One for All users, his sworn enemies and the closest thing he had to family, “isn’t this a lovely little reunion?”

#bnha #boku no hero academia #fic #fanfic #long night in the valley

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miraculous-rewrite · 3 years

Text

Miraculous Rewrite- The Shanghai Special

"Hey wait a minute i thought the Shanghai Special was supposed to have relevant worldbuilding"- Us at the Shanghai Special in canon

We open where we left off in the mid-season finale, just a day or two later. Kagami is sitting in Marinette’s room, on the daybed, while Adrien and Marinette herself are standing, both in varying positions of awkwardness and nervousness as they attempt to explain what the two came to realize during their trip to the past. Kagami seems sad and resigned, glancing at the two of them and noticing that they’re holding hands.

“-Which all of this premise to say,” Marinette starts before stepping away from Adrien and taking one of Kagami’s hands in her own. “Adrien and I have decided to try and do a relationship, but we talked for a while about it and came to the conclusion that we BOTH liked you in that kind of context too.” Kagami’s eyes widen as Adrien steps forward and takes her other hand in his.

“We’ve done a little research into stuff like this, and we were wondering if maybe… We could all just kind of… date each other?”

“Only if you want to of course! We don’t want to pressure you or anything!”

“Only it’s just… All of this Love Triangle stuff has been really weird, and I’ve been watching you and Marinette flirt too so it’s not just like it’s a ‘me’ thing or anything-”

“-And Luka’s already moved on too so it’s not like it’s weird that I’d be seeking others out and-”

“You’re just… literally SO cool and pretty and smart and you’re a better leader than I am-”

Kagami holds up a hand to stop them both. She looks, distinctly uncomfortable, and upon pulling away a bit Adrien and Marinette quickly release her hands. Her gaze is to her knees and slowly she picks a pillow up from the daybed and places it in her lap. “So your plan is for this ‘love triangle’ of a sort to end with all three of us as a couple together instead of rivalry over winning someone’s hand?”

“Only if you’re okay with it.” Marinette responds. Kagami thinks, closes her eyes.

“I doubt my mother and brother will understand, Nor do I know whether this will last particularly long… I’m a jealous sort of person, but…” She squeezes the pillow and her cheeks turn a bit red. “I suppose giving it a shot won’t hurt. However I’m not sure whether I can handle it or not, we have quite the trials ahead of us as well, is it wise to enter an unprecedented relationship at this time?”

“Funny you should mention that…” Marinette smiles then, and this time she offers Kagami her hand, who after a moment’s pause, takes it. After being helped to her feet, Marinette leads Kagami and Adrien to her computer.

“So after Max borderline kidnapped M. Agreste-” Adrien looks off to the side “-He was able to get some Old Order info out of him, turns out he wasn’t too fond of working with these guys after awhile either. And Sun Min’s vouching for him so there’s that.” She clicks a few buttons and up pops an email written in Mandarin. “He says there’s a pretty important tome of Miraculous thats being kept in Shanghai, and guess whose family is organizing an entire ‘Mother’s side family reunion' soon?”

Adrien leans forward and squints, slowly translating the email as a back and forth between two people named Xiabing and Shuyin. Marinette responded that Xiabing was her mother’s name before she came to Paris, back then it was common to pick a more local by-name, she actually picked Sabine because it sounds similar, and Shuyin is an Aunt. Adrien continues to translate, saying that There was… something about a horse?

“Marinette for god’s sake he doesn’t know what he’s doing.” “Hey!”

“Okay so Maman was going to turn down the trip because she and Baba have been REALLY swamped with work this business period and can’t really afford to take that much time off, but I said that since we’ve got a break coming up in school I could go in their stead, keep the cousins updated about Paris life, and maybe even bring some friends since Grandma’s always cooking for too many people, and Auntie Shuyin said sure!”

Kagami humms and puts a hand to her mouth. “I don’t speak Chinese. I wouldn’t be very useful, perhaps Chloe or Amber would be a better fit-”

“Chloe or Amber aren’t you.” Adrien responds, taking Kagami’s hand in his own. “This isn’t just gonna be business, Like yeah we’re gonna look for the Tome, but I have not one, but TWO beautiful girlfriends that I want to buy things for and take out to dinner in a place where I can only understand enough of the language to order a bowl of noodles!”

“Your uncle owns a restaurant, right?” It’s barely a whisper, and Kagami’s clearly not TRYING to whisper, but it’s the first semi-joke she’s made since the two laid everything out for her, and it gets a laugh out of Marinette, and a pout from Adrien.

As the scene fades to black, Marinette’s laughter subsides, and she makes one remark of “It’s been awhile since I've been, but trust me, you both are going to love it in Shanghai.”

We get a different opening for the special, more a montage over an extended cut of the theme song. A clip of the three leaders visiting the base, Marinette and Adrien giving the Ladybug and Cat Miraculous to their temps, and getting hugs in return. A shot of Felix and Bridget giving the dog and mouse back to them for the trip, just in case, and Sun Min handing Marinette a slip of paper with his number on it for the same sort of reason.

Adrien is then seen packing his suitcase for the trip, Felix “helping” (and by helping, we mean the older of the two throwing a pillow at the younger’s face) him do so. Amidst silent laughter, we see a shadow in the doorway, and the two look up to see Gabriel, standing awkwardly in clothes that are distinctly NOT designer suits, holding something in his hand. It takes a moment of tense silence before Adrien, somewhat reluctantly, accepts.

Very quickly we see Kagami with her own packed bags, to which Kenji leans in and starts poking her, a smug smirk on his face as Kagami’s cheeks steadily turn bright red before she smacks him with her bag.

And finally, we get one last scene, starting with the outside of the plane in the air, before zooming in through the window to see the three teens sharing one row of seats, Adrien in the window seat, face smushed against the window, eyes wide, while Marinette pokes him in the cheek with a pretzel stick, giggling, and then turning to Kagami with the brightest of smiles, her other hand still holding the girl’s tightly.

Kagami’s cheeks are bright pink as the intro ends.

After the fade to black with the opening’s conclusion, we enter the airport, and the three teens arriving, Marinette scanning around until her eyes settle on two figures, one familiar to the audience from prior appearances, the other wholly unfamiliar to all but Marinette.

“Fei-Fei!!” The cry is out of the girl’s mouth before her boyfriend and girlfriend can process it, and she’s darting forward and tackling the unfamiliar teen by Cheng Wang’s side in a hug. “It’s so good to see you again!”

The older girl cackles and hugs Marnette back “Xiuying you sonofabitch!” She speaks in Mandarin, and there are subtitles for our sake. She lifts Marinette and gives her a playful spin, Marinette squeaking in laughter. “Is that Uncle Tom and Auntie Xiabing? They’re shorter than I remember?” She teases and Marinette laughs before pulling away.

“These are my friends, Adrien Agreste and Tsurugi Kagami, Kagami, Adrien, this is my cousin Wu Fei, and you both have met Uncle Wang.”

“Wonderful to meet you.” Adrein responds, a bit stiffly in Mandarin, and Kagami nods, and gives a very uncertain “Hello” A-Fei pauses for a moment, seems to think of something and smirks at Marinette, speaking this time in French.

“So which one is your friend and which one is your ‘Friend’ Huh Xiuying?” Marinette surprisingly, doesn’t die of embarrassment, though Kagami covers her face with a hand and Adrien perks up considerably.

“Well that’s for us to know and you to find out, huh Fei-Fei?” A-Fei makes a noise of comprehension.

“Ahhh playing a prank on the others huh? Well I’ll start the betting pool, Let’s see what side Great-Uncle Yan backs. Adrinette or Kagaminette!”

As the others turn away Adrien leans into Kagami “More like Adrigaminette, huh?” Kagami makes a vague hum of agreement before they all follow along.

We’d make this the point of the first commercial break, were this a real show.

And when they arrive at the Cheng Household, The first thing they’re greeted with is a booming ‘Xiuying!’ and Mairnette is sweeped up in a hug by Grandpa Cheng, you remember the one, from the Christmas special? The one that arm wrestles? Yeah. He lifts Marinette and spins her around, and of course greets Adrien and Kagami like old friends despite meeting them only the once. He turns back and calls for everyone else to come greet Xiuying and her friends!

To which everyone is suddenly ensconced inside and a bunch of older Chengs begin to cluster around them, Marinette rattling off names left and right, “You two have already met them, but as a refresher, these are my grandparents Cheng Yan and Piao Mei,” “These are FeiFei’s parents Auntie Cheng and Uncle Wu, yes I know, same surname, Wu’s just a really common family name I promise, hey FeiFei where’s your brother?” “He couldn’t make it” “Whaaaattt boo! I made it from PARIS!” As it turns out quite a few more distant relations couldn’t make it either, and ultimately, the lot of them are waiting on the Aunt we mentioned at the beginning of the episode, Mrs Cheng Shuyin and her family, are the last ones expected to arrive but they’re not quite here yet, you know how it is transporting children.

So Cheng Yan pulls the three of them into a little plan laid out on the table and goes over an itinerary that they’d figured out, when dinner will be, any tourist-y things the kids might want to do and what times would be the best for that type of adventuring.

But soon enough the introductions and simple rundowns of the reunion’s planned events are over and the three are shown to their rooms. Adrien bunking in a separate room than Marinette and Kagami for… obvious reasons. And Very quickly the two begin to pull out some slightly fancier clothes.

Kagami asks where they should begin looking for the Tome, Shanghai isn’t exactly a small city, and there’s a lot of places for someone to hide a book of that level of importance. “Perhaps we should split up and cover multiple sections? But I’m not sure if Lonng can translate for me while I’m transformed or not.”

“It’s been… a long time since I visited Shanghai, but FeiFei should be willing to show us around, at least until we know where we’re going.” Marinette explains. “But before we do that-”

The scene cuts away from the bedroom to the rooftop, a shot showing open windows as it pans up to the three of them, and Marinette’s got the slip of paper in one hand and her phone in the other, speaker setting on, the ringing a bit loud.

“Are you sure he’s up?” Adrien questions, his head on Kagami’s shoulder, and he’s tipping to look behind her at Marinette. “Like, how late is it back home?”

But soon enough the ringing ends and a groggy voice answers “I’m betraying you guys and returning back to the Order I hate you all, what is it.”

“What time is it over there?”

“Time for you to tell me what you’re calling me for so I can go back to bed. Your Tiger is a tyrant, I’ve been riding on jet-lag since I got here and now She’s waking me up at ungodly hours to ‘fix it’”

“We made it to Shanghai, you said you have connections here you can trust?”

When Sun Min responds he sounds far more bright than before “Oh certainly, but where are you guys in specific?”

They answer and he humms. “Well good news the bookshop’s not too far from there, bad news, I can’t guarantee Yun Eun-Ji will be alone. She's trusted but I don't know if she’s turned anyone but me yet, so I don't know if anyone ELSE can be trusted.”

“Shocking.” Kagami wryly adds in.

“Shush. Here’s what you should do, Yun Eun-Ji’s been working the front of the bookstore for awhile now so she’s probably still there, you’re gonna want to look for a Korean girl with shoulder length hair, and a biiiggg wide grin she’s like, startlingly pretty, so pretty you feel like a horrible trash gremlin next to her, and you’re gonna want to tell her that The Lion is protective over The Octopus, and that you’re here on his behalf.”

“That’s it?” Adrien chimes in “No secret coded handshake or code scribbled into a book we need to look for?”

“We’re a monastic order that hasn’t changed our policies in centuries, Agreste, we’re not a James Bond secret society.”

“....Right. Sorry.”

But soon enough the conversation ends and Sun Min lets out a relieved groan as he hangs up with a cheery “Good fucking night.” and the three of them are left alone on the rooftop.

“So! That certainly happened.” Marinette huffs. “We’ve got a lot LESS ground to cover than we thought, but it’s still a lot of ground. Lucky for us, we're still waiting for Auntie Shuyin-erm.. I mean Yi’niang... Yi'niang Yi'niang, gotta get used to that again...-to get in with the boys and they’re not due to get here until evening.”

“So what, we badger your cousin to showing us around and try to direct her in the general direction Sun Min pointed us in and hope we find the bookstore?” Kagami raises a brow

“Best we’ve got.” Adrien shrugs. “We can tell her we’re looking for some books in Mandarin for souvenirs and also for me to practice my reading?”

Marinette nods, and the teens quickly scramble off the roof before they can be spotted and slip back into their rooms, and it doesn’t take long for Marinette to locate her cousin. “FeiFei! Before we settle down for supper, can you show us around? Adrien wanted to get his hands on some books for souvenirs…”

A-Fei glances over at the three, before nodding, ushering them to the front of the house to get their shoes on, and her phone is pulled out from her pocket. After a moment, she joins them, tugging on a boot as she glances back towards the kitchen, and cups her hands around her mouth.

“Wai’gong, we’re heading out!” A-Fei shouts into the house, amidst the chatter of children and adults, and there’s a brief remark of affirmation from Uncle Wang, before the four teens head out. “I told my friends, too, so they’ll be joining us, hope that’s ok with you three?”

No sooner are the lot of them stepping into the street a bicycle with three boys somehow balanced atop it zips into frame, Marinette, Adrien, and Kagami, all used to this level of ‘spring into action, immediately get out if the way, but A-Fei isn’t so lucky and the guy standing on the back rim of the bike reaches out and swipes up A-Fei, cartoon logic the only thing meaning he actually is able to grab her and not just clotheslining her. The driver hits the brakes and they skid for a few feet before the three laughing boys all crowd around A-Fei, still held in the third boy’s grip and she groans.

“That is never as funny as you lot seem to think it is.”

“It’s HILARIOUS A-Fei!” one of the boys chimes. “And it’s not OUR fault you make such a good damsel in distress!”

“Call me a damsel one more time Liang Jiao, I dare you.” She huffs before finally being put down. “You lot scared my cousin and her friends.” She haughtily tosses her hair before approaching the group again. “So these ruffians are the circus I have the misfortune of calling a social group.”

“Liang Jiao, Xie Kang, and Yuan Zhong, boys, this is my cousin Cheng Xiuying, and her friends Tsurugi Kagami and Adrien Agreste.” Once again introductions are had, but this time it’s a far more casual affair, as A-Fei just tells them about their plans to show them around the nearby shops, how Adrien apparently is a bit of a bookworm and so they’re gonna check out a few bookshops too.

As A-Fei explains things, she slowly shifts into full Mandarin, and while Marinette follows along with ease, and Adrien takes a couple minutes but is more or less getting the gist of the conversation, Kagami… trails behind, both figuratively, and literally. She lingers at the far end of the group, glancing at the buildings and the signs, listening to the conversation she can’t quite grasp. Names are easy enough, even with Marinette being referred to differently by A-Fei and her friends.

But it’s clear, even as the group starts to explore shops, that Kagami is decidedly not having fun.

Still, she’s here on a mission, same as Marinette and Adrien, even if the three are here for other reasons as well, so she keeps an eye out for bookshops, or at least for what looks like bookstores, and watches as the others chat.

The seven stop for lunch at a little hole-in-the-wall noodle shop, letting Adrien try his hand at making the order first. The boy running front, looking about college age with spiky hair tied back with a red headband (looking awfully familiar for those whom are familiar with lego based cartoons) sort of groans when he sees the clearly foreign boy run up, but patiently waits for him to stumble through his order before turning to look at the others. Marinette does a little better before darting to the back to explain a few dishes to Kagami as A-Fei and the boys make their own orders. Marinette piping up again to order for a, clearly mortified, Kagami.

Soon enough they’re shown to a table with a couple of extra chairs pulled up and the boys begin to tease Adrien about his INCREDIBLY BAD accent, and A-Fei watches in amusement while Marinette leans over and grins at Kagami. “Apparently the House Special, What you got, is like, insanely good. My uncle hates this place with a burning passion for how good the noodles are here.”

“Hm.”

Marinette pretty quickly seems to pick up on her mood. “You okay?”

“I believe bringing me with you both might have been a mistake. I’m not very useful in the context of the city. Perhaps if the Tome had been in Tokyo I would have been more useful but-”

“Kagami, hey, we said it before, you’re here because we want you to be. You don’t need to be thinking constantly about how you can ‘be useful’ to the group, or anything. You just need to be Kagami and we’ll be happy you’re here.”

Kagami hums again but the Spiky haired boy brings out their noodles and the conversation is quickly derailed.

After lunch the group departs and goes back to scouring the city for any cool bookshops, some of them looking close to the description given but slightly off, some looking so opposite someone has to think of a quick reason why they should leave right now immediately.

But soon, miraculously (heh) they come across a truly ancient looking bookstore, though it takes a little prompting for A-Fei to go inside with them, as apparently this part of the city ‘always gave her the willies’ But soon enough the three were inside, Adrien starts looking through the books held within with A-Fei and Marinette and Kagami approach the front, and sure enough sitting there at the register, looking bored and exactly as described to them, was the woman known as Yun Eun-Ji.

“Can I help you ladies?”

“Yes… Uhm…” Marinette huffs. “The Lion is protective over the Octopus, and we’re here on his behalf to check up on her.” Yun Eun-Ji’s eyes widen a bit and when she leans in a little Marinette pulls out her Miraculous necklace. “We’re friends of Sun Min.” she goes on in french

“I can see that.” Yun Eun-Ji slides into french herself. She makes a reach for the coin around Marinette’s neck, but she pulls away. Yun Eun-Ji backs off, and waggles her fingers to show off the silver bracelet around her own wrist. “So MinMin set you all? Now’s not the right time, sorry to say. Come back later when we’re closed. THEN we’ll talk.”

“How do we know you won’t be leading us into a trap?” Kagami speaks up. Yun Eun-Ji smiles at the two of them.

“I guess you don’t.”

Marinette and Kagami glance at each other, and the two look back to see Adrien’s got an eye on the both of them as well. There’s a nod shared between the three and they leave without buying anything.

Now the tour continues, and with the location firmly in mind, the three are able to go full tourist and oohh and aaahh as they so please. But for Kagami that also meant she was back to being in the back of the group, still not having any real fun. But soon A-Fei gets a text and yelps. Apparently the rest of the guests are here and now everyone was waiting on them instead.

The Boys mock A-Fei again for being a scatterbrain, before offering them to borrow the bike the three boys had been walking about all day to get back faster, just don’t crash into another traffic pole, huh A-Fei? Such a Lovely Damsel like her could easily be picked up by anyone when on the ground from a crash~

A-Fei smacks each boy on the back of the head in a row.

But she takes them up on the offer and the four of them finagle a way to all fit on the bike, Kagami riding handlebars as the shortest one, Adrien pedaling, and A-Fei and Marinette both balanced on the back.

“Your friends seem nice!”

“Ugh I GUESS” A-Fei leans forward for her head to rest on Marinette’s shoulder. “They’re so aggravating Xiuying…”

“How’d they get it in their heads you’re a damsel anyway? You’ve always been so tough for as long as I've known you.”

“Xiuying I don’t know if you’ve NOTICED or not, but Our family is a little.. Accident prone. Clumsy?”

Marinette splutters, Adrien stifles a laugh, and Kagami very noticeably tenses as well.

“....Oh? I hadn’t noticed.” Now Kagami can’t keep back a laugh, Adrien is clearly DYING.

“Our Marinette? Clumsy? How Shocking.” Adrien bites out around chuckles.

“Yes, our beloved Xiuying is the utmost epitome of grace.” Kagami adds on. “....That felt weird to say.”

“Hey yeah why DID you decide to go by Marinette anyway?” A-Fei asks, to which Marinette looks off to the side.

“Honestly? It was Mom’s idea, she thought that it would be easier if I went by a French name, to avoid kids being weird about it and all.”

“Children can certainly be cruel.” Kagami agrees. Adrien however pouts. “I’m gonna pronounce your name correctly by the end of this trip, just you wait!”

“Adrien you don’t have to- I’m- I’m okay with Marinette! I LIKE Marinette! The Writers are gonna keep calling me Marinette anyway to avoid confusion with the audience!”

(( Hey since when were the characters self-aware Vega? )) ((Some time in Season One, i forget when we first started breaking the fourth wall))

But after that comedy break we’re back at the Cheng household. And sure enough A-Fei is almost immediately pulled aside by her mother for a brief lecture on keeping her cousin and her friends from the event. While Marinette is quickly embraced by her other Auntie and their side of the family

Of course that means it’s time for more introductions again, as Marinette introduces everyone to Aunt Shuyin, her husband, and then the two whirlwind children that immediately pummel her as her other cousins, The two kids immediately begin to drag marinette away, babbling in rapid fire Mandarin that even Marinette seems to struggle to keep up with. The final touches of the meal are starting to go underway as Grandma Mei, Uncle Wang, and Auntie Cheng all begin to cluster in the kitchen. Grandpa Yan takes Adrien by his arm and pats his muscles once or twice, asks what kind of sports he’s in, to which Adrien responds with, of course, fencing.

“Ahhh you fancy yourself a fighter, hm? What sort of non-armed combat are you trained in?” to which Adrien responds again honestly, though this time Grandpa Yan laughs. “I doubt you actually learn much at some silly french schools, come boy, I’ll see what I can show you. First! Test your strength!” He sits down and rolls up a sleeve, ahh yes Arm Wrestle Grandpa is back.

Soon enough though it’s dinner time. And the family does… you know… normal family things, they dig in, they eat. They talk. Stories are demanded of Marinette as to why her parents aren’t here, and what’s been going on in France, is that supervillain still causing trouble? So Marinette launches into a story or two, Adrien adding on color commentary when possible.

But of course not having quite as much fun is, you guessed it, Kagami. She’s spent most of this time sitting on the couch, nursing a drink and then at the table nursing her food, and just.. Sitting quietly until the end of the meal and the conversations are carried to the other rooms. And as such Kagami returns to the couch. Every so Often Adrien and Marinette either separately or together try to bring her in to whatever they were doing but she either politely declines or someone else jolts in and distracts either of them.

But soon enough the person to most notice is A-Fei. She approaches with her own drink and sits beside her.

“So… worst way to meet the in-laws huh? You look miserable.”

“In laws?”

“It’s you and Marinette, right? You guys brought Adrien to throw off suspicions.”

“....I won’t lie, it's weird to hear YOU call Marinette as Marinette.”

“Stop derailing. What’s up?”

Kagami pauses for a moment before answering. “It’s… All of us. All three of us. At once. Together.” A-Fei blinks surprised. “But it SHOULDN’T be. Those two? They can get along just fine on their own, they’re both fun and charismatic and talented in their own fields, I’m just some stick in the mud that can’t even order her own food at a restaurant.”

“It’s not your fault you don’t speak the language, Kagami.”

“I don’t speak THEIR language. Extroverted, fun, able to be more than some self serious workaholic. All I’m doing is dragging them down. Adrien got his baggage in order, they don’t need me anymore.”

A-Fei thinks for a moment and nods. “That’s no way to live your life, I agree. But… If you’re so worried about the two of them drifting off from you, Talk to them, do what needs to be done. I highly doubt they want to be rid of you themselves.”

Kagami pauses for a moment. And her expression hardens over, she reaches a hand up and lightly brushes her choker. “You’re right. There are many things here that need to be done.”

A little later, Marinette is turning from a conversation with her grandfather to look for someone in the crowd of Cheng’s, and finds an empty couch where A-Fei and Kagami once were.

This would also be where we’d have a hypothetical commercial break if this were a REAL special.

When we ‘Return’ we see that sure enough Kagami has endorsed A-Fei’s help in this whole thing, explaining as we come in with the two of them that she can’t read the street signs and her memory isn’t so good that she can find her way back to the bookstore after only being there once.

A-Fei of course asks why she’s so determined on going back there, and furthermore why it’s so important. Kagami pauses for a moment and takes Lonng out to show her. “Marinette has been kind enough to let me tag along on this trip for the sake of my duties as a hero but I shouldn’t be impending on her time with Adrien any more than I already am. I’d just be holding them back.”

“Didn’t you say it was all three of you together?”

“My point still stands.”

“Kagami, that's not a healthy way to look at things, besides, they wouldn’t want you to go in alone!”

“I’m not alone, I’ve got Lonng.” She smiles down at Lonng, whom peers back up at her impassively. “Stay out here please Wu Fei. I’ll handle this.”

When Kagami walks into the bookshop, immediately she’s beset by darkness, only one desk lamp is still on near the register. And with a huge tome in her lap, Yun Eun-Ji is waiting.

“We’re closed.” She states in Mandarin. Before she glances up at Kagami and smiles, saying again, now in French, “We’re closed.”

“You never explained how easily you drffted into french.”

“I speak a few languages. Mandarin, Korean, French, English, Tagalog, Arabic, you want me to keep going? I don’t speak Japanese so fair warning on that end, which language are you more comfortable with?”

“French is fine. I’m here to speak with you about the information Sun Min told us you have on the more… obscure that your order could use against us without our knowledge.”

“You’re being rather confident, what makes you so sure I'll be willing to cooperate?”

“You’re his friend are you not?”

“I am, but you’re not here on your friends’ wishes, are you miss? I doubt they were planning on sending you in alone, so I wonder just what your plan is on that front.”

“They trust me to get things done. And That’s what matters.”

“Fair enough.” The woman closes the book and approaches the girl. “Yun Eun-Ji. Nice to meet you.”

“Tsurugi Kagami, likewise.”

The two peer at each other for a short time, silence between them both.

“Do you trust Sun Min?”

“Frankly, I don’t, but at the moment we have very few other options. Your Order is planning something and we need clues as to what. And he believes that the Tome of Miraculous in your possession is what will be giving us our path forward.”

“Hm…. Well maybe I do have it. Maybe I don’t and Sun Min is full of shit and led you right into a trap. I am a member of the Order of Miraculous, Miss Tsurugi.” Without calling the transformation incantation, a flash of teal lights up the gloom. We shift to Yun Eun-Ji’s perspective as she darts in, Kagami reaching for her choker, but another flash of teal fills the screen and everything cuts to black.

“You shouldn’t have come alone, Tsurugi Kagami.”

When we cut back to light, it’s the streetlights of Shanghai and a type matchup we haven’t seen in a little bit. Multimoise and Fenrir are transformed and following the route they’d been on before, retracing the path from earlier that day to re-find the bookshop, passing by the other rejected bookstores, the noodle place, and all the sights they’d seen before.

Fenrir huffs and adjusts his collar “Are we sure it was somewhere around-”

An explosion cuts him off, and Multimouse chirps out a breezy “Over there!” The two descend and sure enough the bookshop has been completely blown out from the inside. Ryuuko is laying in a small crater, and A-Fei is nowhere to be found.

Fenrir approaches first and lightly lifts Ryuuko until she groans and slowly comes to. She grumbles to herself and sits upright. She massages a headache.

“That was a cheap shot.”

“Ryuuko are you alright?” Multimouse gets down to be at the same level as the two of them and places a hand on Ryuuko’s shoulder.

“Not really, that Yun Eun-Ji woman is a nightmare. Either she’s toying with us, or Sun Min was always planning this, she took me out FAR too easy.”

“...Kagami, where's FeiFei?”

Kagami’s eyes snap open and she darts up, looking around rapidly, and sure enough, as confirmed earlier, Wu Fei is missing.

“She- I told her to wait outside!”

“Yun Eun-Ji must have taken her after subduing you.” Fenrir huffs, his grip on Ryuuko’s shoulders tightens. “What was she bait?”

Multimouse looks around before spotting something, finding a small note folded in between the splintered remains of the wall.

“Definitely bait. Look here.” Fenrir helps Ryuuko to her feet for a moment before Ryuuko sort of sharply pulls away and the two stumble over to Multimouse. She holds out the note for the two of them.

It’s in Mandarin. Ryuuko groans, Fenrir looks over it, seems like he understands perfectly, and then pushes it back toward Multimouse. “I doubt that was talking about a shrimp boat by the docks, so clearly I need to work on my reading levels a little more.”

Multimouse chuckles and looks over the paper herself again, and translates:

“In the Order though we are specialized in certain fields, all members must have their minds tested as well as their bodies and spirits. Your lot must prove yourselves worthy as well. For the knowledge you seek is not for those who cannot understand themselves. Work together, be honest with your thoughts and feelings, and only then shall you find the true way.” and then turns around the paper. “The first hint is a freebee, it’s in Miss Tsurugi’s weakspot.”

Ryuuko’s face turns blood red beneath her mask and she slaps a hand over her side, previously unseen as it was the side Fenrir was pressed against.

And sure enough there was a small note taped to her side while she was out of it.

“It’s in French.” She huffs with relief. “Okay, so….” She reads the riddle aloud and because we here at Miraculous Rewrite are not ourselves riddlemasters, we’ll just leave these spots conspicuously vague. But after a little puzzling the general assumption is ‘head west’ so the three take off down the street, Fenrir suggests they detransform for a time to avoid suspicions as to what three random heroes are doing in Shanghai, and soon it’s Adrien, Kagami and Marinette once again. But Kagami herself isn’t helping with the whole ‘avoiding suspicions’ thing. She's taken point in front of the little group and is clearly looking around searching for their next clue.

They’re getting strange looks.

Marinette is the one to quickly wave off people, at least to start. Claiming that her aunts set up a scavenger hunt to help her friends get adjusted to the town for their trip, but it doesn’t work on all of the people they pass by.

Soon enough they find another entry in their ‘scavenger hunt’ that directs them in another direction, to which Kagami of course, instantly tears off in the direction of, practically pivoting on her hip, and a nearby bystander asks Marinette quietly if her friend is okay. Marinette waves off the ‘concerned parent’ vibing adult and grabs Adrien and the two are stuck following after her.

Thankfully heroes can all pretty easily keep pace with each other, so by the time that they reach the third riddle, Adrien grabs Kagami and pulls her aside where Marinette takes the riddle from her.

“Kagami, you don’t need to do everything yourself. That’s why we’re here together.” It’s clearly meant to be encouraging, there’s an earnest look on Adrien’s face, but Kagami pulls away regardless.

“What else is there that I can do beyond this? Marinette is the only one here that is properly fluent in the language to help us gather directions.” Adrien winces, but Kagami either doesn’t notice, or elects not to comment. “I have to do something to… prove, that I should have come along.”

A hand rests on her shoulder, and she spins to see Marinette. “You don’t have to prove anything, Kagami. We said it before, and I’ll say it again, we wanted you to join us, because we wanted to be here, as the three of us. I wish that I’d had the chance to teach you a few phrases before this, but we didn’t have the time, and I’m sorry for that…”

It seems as though the words of comfort don’t exactly work though, as Kagami puffs up further and takes the riddle slip from Marinette. “Let’s just focus on finding your cousin. I’m only good for one thing here, so just.. Let me do it, alright?”

Marinette and Adrien share a concerned glance as Kagami storms off.

“Maybe this wasn’t the best place to try for a first date…” Marinette huffs.

“Yeah but it’s too late now. We can woo her as much as we want when this is over and we’re just doing normal family reunion stuff again.”

Again, if this aired on TV, this would be another commercial break starting point.

But on we go to the third act! We arrive at a harbor, those of you with eagle eyes may notice it is in fact the Yangshan Deepwater Harbor closer to the shipyard than the more natural surrounding greenery. We see a dilapidated broken down car, the plants have long since started to reclaim its metal exterior, and Yun Eun-Ji, once again detransformed, is sitting on the hood of it, She’s messing around on her phone, and there’s a thump, when she looks to the side we see Wu Fei tied up and struggling.

“Calm down, they’ll be here any minute.”

“YUN EUN-JI!”

“Ah! Right on cue.” She gestures behind her, and we see a little flash of teal. “Chiingu, transform me.”

Sun Min did refer to her as ‘An Octopus’ before, didn’t he? Now fully transformed, Yun Eun-Ji pulls out her weapon, a Cat O’ Nine Tails (but with eight tails) and the multiple tails start swaying and lifting, as though they had their own mind.

She flips her hair and turns to the heroes, newly transformed again and smirks. “Well, THIS was what I was waiting for! The Three Leaders of the so-called “New Order”! Sun Min has told so many stories about you lot and I've been DYING to have a little personal fun!” She cracks the cat and all eight tails suddenly stand at attention.

“Let’s play.”

Three against one shouldn’t be a particularly tough fight, but Yun Eun-Ji doesn’t seem to be slowing down any, Fenrir comes at her with his chakram, she dodges, if she dodges into Multimouse’s rope, she throws out her Cat and it tangles in the cats tails, if she backs into Ryuuko’s sword the tails stiffen again and they duel, this back and forth goes on for a time, Yun Eun-Ji seems to know exactly how to counter everyone present. But as the fight goes on one thing becomes clear --

The heroes aren’t fully firing on all cylinders, and Ryuuko in particular looks distracted. Yun Eun-Ji hums, when, for a moment, it seems as though Ryuuko actually hesitated to strike. Quickly taking advantage of the split second, and grabbing hold of Ryuuko and forcing the two of them away from the group, pinning her easily and raising her Nine Tails high, the tails stiffening to a point..

“So Miss Tsurugi, did you tell them the truth?” Multimouse and Fenrir race forward but Yun Eun-Ji points the tip of the tail to her face. “Closer and your girlfriend loses a bit of her beauty.” She humms in satisfaction when the two stop.

“Did you? No? How disappointing. Yet not surprising.” She chuckles. “Teenagers are all the same when it comes to emotional sincerity. You might want to consider doing it though Kagami! Do it now! You could die! I could take your head off before those two even thought of a plan!”

“ Tell them. The. truth.” She glanced up at the two again, unsurprisingly Fenrir and Multimouse are… confused. But as Yun Eun-Ji continues we focus on Kagami, and her mounting rage. “Tell them that you like them both and you’re afraid of being a stick in the mud! How two people who are fun and vibrant could never go for someone so dull as you! That deep down you’re afraid that they only say that they like you because while they had their own shit going on they NEEDED someone who wasn’t interesting at all to keep the team together.”

She pressed into Kagami a little harsher. “How afraid you are that you were only ever instrumental for them, and now they don’t need you anymore.”

“STORMBRINGER!” Kagami vanishes into the wind and escapes her grasp. Reforming just quickly enough to land a solid punch onto Yun Eun-Ji, and with Ryuuko free Fenrir and Multimouse hop into battle, and from there the tide begins to turn. Until Ryuuko has her sword at her throat and-

“Alright! Alright! I yield!” Ryuuko looks maybe about to ignore that herself for how incensed she still was, but Mutlimouse cuts in by wrapping Yun Eun-Ji with the jumprope and Fenrir asking over the book.

“Well maybe your cute cousin could answer that for you.”

Naturally Adrien then approaches A-Fei, and when the ropes are sliced through with his Chakram, A-Fei stands and reveals that she’d been holding the book between her chest and legs this whole time, and had in fact been flipping through it since they arrived.

Yun Eun-Ji winks at A-Fei who blushes a bit “The Tome is about these things called… uhm… I’m not sure how it translates into french, but I guess.. Miracles?”

“Miraculous.” Marinette corrects.

“Sure. Anyway, they’re like… embodyments of virtues… or… concepts? I’m not sure which one is a more faithful translation.”

“That’s the Tome you guys wanted right? The one that shows how they’re made?” Yun Eun-Ji flips her hair. “Did they have an entry on the Octopus in the Tome you guys have?”

“No, it’s only got a few miraculous, it's mostly like... potions and rituals.” Adrien responds, and finally, Finally, Kagami seems to chill enough to take her sword off of Yun Eun-Ji’s throat.

“That figures- Thank you.” She rubs at her throat. “That was a healing tome, since Fu was being trained to be a healer when the war happened.” She folds her arms. “Healers tend to be given more passive Miraculous than our warrior or scholar counterparts. The Octopus, for instance, is the Virtue of Kindness.”

“You guys basically walked right into my shop with a banner over your heads that said ‘Our PROBLEMS have problems’ so when Dragon Girl over here came to regroup with me alone I assumed something was going on, and used my power. Assist helps me find out what’s wrong with a person and the best way to solve their main issues. And Tsurugi Kagami, yours were to talk about your problems with these two like the grownup you so desperately want everyone to think you already are.”

Yun Eun-Ji shrugs. “I’d hoped you’d just follow my advice so I gave you guys ample time to talk and walk, but apparently I underestimated just how stubborn teenagers can be.” Kagami, unfortunately, is pissed again and takes a step forward, now with her fist again instead of her sword.

“Calm down, I only took matters into my own hands because you couldn’t.” She sighs. “Look, Love lives getting mixed up in all of this is tricky, maybe not the wisest course of action, but on the same level, affection for each other might save your team in a way that only a few of my family may be saved. We don’t… care much about each other anymore. At least not in the way it supposedly used to be.”

“But nonetheless they ARE still family, and with Sun Min’s… more controversial… stake in the Paris situation, I shouldn’t be too rebellious myself, it’s… gonna be a chore getting him out of there with everything in tact when this is over, but for now the Tome should probably stay in Shanghai.”

She takes the Tome from A-Fei and hands it over to Multimouse. “But if you don’t mind your cousin continuing to be involved, I don’t see why SHE can’t help. Hm?”

“She told you everything didn’t she?” Mutlimouse turns to A-Fei whom shrugs.

“I know enough Xiuying.” A-Fei winks at Multimouse whom groans and buries her face into the book.

“Yeah sure, just leave my cousin without a Miraculous and way too much information alone in the city with only one person whom we can’t even be SURE we can trust.”

“Hey! I just let you get your grubby French mitts all over an ancient Tome of Miraculous! Be a little nicer!”

“She won’t be without one for long though.” Adrien finally speaks up, when all eyes turn to him he shrugs. “I mean that Tome shows how the Miraculous were made, right?”

A-Fei’s eyes light up as she darts over. “You’re right! I can just… just like… FIND another virtue or concept that hasn’t been accounted for yet and just... MAKE a new Miraculous like that!"

She grins brightly at Marinette. “I’ll join the fight soon Xiuying! Don’t you worry about me!”

And Wu Fei thrusts a fist into the air. “And soon my fucking friends won’t be able to call me a Damsel in Distress any more!”

When we cut next it seems to be the next evening as dinner is still being made, But this time with another face in the crowd, Auntie Cheng is scolding A-Fei about bringing a guest without clearing it with anyone else going on to insist that Xiuying made DOUBLY sure it was alright with everyone before bringing her friends in place of her parents, and how A-Fei was making herself kind of look bad in front of everyone else. A-Fei’s just kinda… dying inside… you know how it be. Marinette places a hand on her shoulder in solidarity, but Yun Eun-Ji seems unbothered and covers for her ass.

“Wu Fei is such a kind young lady, I’m terribly sorry for any stress my presence has cost, it’s simply that, I mentioned while we were all getting to know each other that all of my family is back in Seoul, and the pain that distance can cause, so she’d offered. I had no idea it would be such an imposition. I'm terribly sorry!”

There’s a pause. “Oh! Well if that’s what it was all about I suppose that’s fine.”

Yun Eun-Ji winks at A-Fei as her mother turns her back.

As expected from the previous night Adrien and Grandpa Yan have cleared out a space in the corner of the house and it seems like Grandpa Yan is trying to teach Adrien a thing or two about fighting ‘the proper way’ and the littles are sitting on the floor watching and giggling.

Marinette is getting pulled into the kitchen with the others as now she CAN have a hand in putting some Fancy French Spins onto dinner tonight, see what her mother has taught her.

And once again, Kagami is sitting alone. She seems a little more at peace with it than last time though. As she glances up she unintentionally meets Yun Eun-Ji’s eye. The Octopus wielder raises her brow and nods in the vague direction of the others before returning to her conversation with A-Fei’s father. Kagami huffs and moves to stand, but before she can choose someone to go to first, Marinette strides over and grabs her arm.

“Kagami! You’ve GOTTA tell everyone the story about the musical Akuma! I can translate for you, but you’re the one who was right on the action!”

“Oh! We’re talking about Show Stopper?” Adrien walks over now followed by a gaggle of children. “Yeah! You gotta tell everyone! You’re hands down the best storyteller of all of us.”

“And determined”

“And your wry sense of humor is really funny”

“And pretty.”

“INCREDIBLY pretty.”

“Oh, and don’t forget her elegance!”

“WHO could forget that?”

“And you’re literally SUCH a great leader!”

“And an amazing teacher too!”

Kagami’s face grows redder with each comment the two make until she smacks a hand across each of their mouths.

“I get it. I’ll tell the story just-... Shut. Up.”

For a quick moment before the teenagers get the attention of the adults again, Adrien leans in and presses a kiss to the top of Kagami’s head, she shrinks away averted eyes trying to look cool, but runs right into Marinette whom gently grabs her cheek and yes, this is where we get that sweet sweet Kagaminette smooch.

“You’re both incorrigible.”

“Okay we’ve got a story folks!” Adrien turns and addressed the group again. “Xiuying will be translating!” He puts an arm around Kagami’s shoulders, Marinette clings to her opposite arm.

But we’re not done just yet folks. Because as the story blurs in the background, Kagami speaking in french Marinette translating to Mandarin, we pull away to see Yun Eun-Ji again, this time she’s on the fringes of the group, and her phone rings.

She of course takes a step outside to answer, and on the balcony just outside, surprise surprise, she answers “Master Wu?”

“Yun Eun-Ji.”

“Is there something wrong? I haven’t heard from Sun Min recently.”

“Your friend is a traitor to our kind Yun Eun-Ji. He’s turned from our ways under the fool’s hope of a ceasefire that cannot be attainable. It was a mistake to allow him the Lion. His bleeding heart could never be quashed, and now look at where it’s gotten him.” Wu Lian huffs on the other side of the call. “I blame myself.”

Yun Eun-Ji…. Looks very…. Uncomfortable. She huffs and puffs about how this is… SO surprising! She had no idea he would fall that way! Oh gee she should have kept a closer eye on him while they were in training!

“You know I’d LOVE to head over there and straighten him out myself, but my duty toward keeping the Tome safe has to take precedence! Duty before passion! That's the healer’s creed, you taught me as such Master Wu!”

Something is spoken, and we focus on Yun Eun-Ji alone, the voice on the other end too quiet to be heard. A-Fei steps out, concerned as to what’s taking her new friend so long, a hand placed on her shoulder, and the other girl is… shaking, ever so slightly.

“...What do you mean Master Kai has started deciphering the old combination spells?”

#Miraculous Rewrite #Rewrite #Mod vega #Mod Aimee #Miraculous Ladybug #Shanghai Special

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rainpuddle13 · 3 years

Note

19. playing with each other’s fingers

Ross&Demelza

I apologize, @veryflowerobservation, for taking so long to post this. It sorta got away from me :P I hope you enjoy!

This fic is a prequel to Tears and Sunflowers.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was an ungodly hour. This having to get to the airport a minimum of four hours before an international flight was for the birds. Their flight to New York was scheduled to depart at 8:35am. Ross didn’t even know why he bothered to attempt to catch a few hours of sleep the previous night. Demelza was practically vibrating with excitement in the bed next to him. She had never flown before. So he’d done the only thing he could do in that situation -- help her work off some of that nervous energy -- and he bore the marks on his shoulders to prove it. He just felt sorry for the very nice elderly couple who were occupying the room next door to theirs at the hotel.

He checked his watch with a groan.

6:21am.

He thanked the good Lord above for exclusive traveler lounges. If he had to queue with the masses in the main terminal, he might not be responsible for his actions. That early in the morning, access to only that swill that passed for coffee at Costa, and masses of travelers with varying degrees of comportment would have him seriously contemplating murder. It would be a very poor defence if he was brought before the crown court, but surely an understandable one.

“You should eat something,” he said to her after she kept fiddling with the fingers of his hand resting on the knee if her crossed legs. They were cuddled together on a small sofa in a quiet spot where she could take in all of the hustle and bustle of the enormous lounge. There were quite a few people for that early in the morning, but there was so much space that it hardly felt crowded. He could feel her leg bouncing as she wiggled her foot. “The food is usually pretty exceptional.”

“I don’t know if I could,” she told him, weaving their fingers together and stilling her fidgeting for a moment, “too excited.”

Ross snorted softly as he was never one to be too nervous or tired to eat something. “You could get a haircut or a massage instead,” he teased, glancing over to see the expression on her face. The Virgin Atlantic Clubhouse Lounge at Heathrow was an overwhelming place with all sorts of over-the-top posh amenities. She was impressed they’d been picked up at the hotel and delivered to the airport in a private car and then were whisked through priority check-in and security in a matter of minutes.

“Really?” she asked, eyes widening with the obvious sensory overload she was experiencing.

“Yes,” he assured her, chuckling a little, and knowing her head would have exploded if she knew how much two upper class tickets had cost. “There’s a spa too and shower rooms.” Ross had wanted her first international flight to be comfortable and memorable, but he feared it might set her expectation a bit high for any future trips they might take. There was a far cry between the pampering in upper class and the indignities of the overcrowded economy class. It was just as well because he would need the extra legroom these days with his stiff knee.

She pressed a little closer to him and her fingers toyed with the heavy rose gold band he wore on his left ring finger that matched the more delicate one she wore. “You want to eat something don’t you?” she inquired.

“What I actually want is coffee,” he paused for a moment, his stomach answered her question with a low grumble, “and I probably could nosh on something.” He’d opted to keep his eyes closed for a few precious minutes while she got ready instead of sending for room service, safe in the knowledge that there would be an abundance of food and drink provided by the airline.

“I can try to nibble on something.” She pressed a kiss to his scruffy cheek before standing up and holding her hand out to him and he couldn’t help but notice his beautiful wife attracting the attention of several of the men around them. Demelza was comfortably dressed in jeans that showed off her long legs to perfection and a deep gold turtleneck topped off with a rich brown leather jacket, and her glorious crown of red hair was barely contained by a loose braid.

Within a matter of minutes, he was attempting not to guzzle a cup of expertly brewed Sumatran coffee while waiting for his fry up to be brought to him. Demelza carefully sipped her steaming cup of tea, but left her plate of assorted breads and pastries untouched. He reached across the cozy dining table to snag a flaky and buttery croissant off the plate.

“You’re going to eat everything off my plate aren’t you?” he asked when she raised an eyebrow at his thievery.

“Noooo,” she swore, her eyes following the heavily laden plate an attendant placed before him followed by another to replace his near empty coffee cup with a fresh one.

He picked up the knife and fork to start in on the perfectly poached eggs after a liberal dousing of pepper. “You too can have your own plate. All you have to do is ask.”

“I don’t think I could!” she insisted, stabbing a bit of roast potato and grilled mushroom with own fork.

“Likely story,” he snorted, pushing his plate to the middle of the table so she could graze more easily. This was a common occurrence with her -- insisting she couldn’t possibly then proceed to demolish his plate in fairly short order. It always happened when he ordered something that was absolutely terrible for him, but so very good for that exact reason. Anyone else and Ross would find the behavior less than endearing.

“Are you going to tell me why we’re going to New York?” she queried while attacking the fried bread to smear in the runny eggs he had somehow managed to get a few bites of before she could turn her sights on them. “Not that I’m complaining mind; I’ve always wanted to go, but it’s a long way for a few days.”

It took everything in him not to blurt out the reason for what seemed like a sudden weekend jaunt across the pond, but actually had been in the works for months. She loved Van Gogh. The Met was having a once-in-a-lifetime exhibit. How could he not take her? “I told you I really wanted good pizza.”

“Oh, Ross,” she sighed in frustration, then changed her tactic. “You’ve been to New York before then?”

“Loads of times,” he answered, slathering strawberry jam on his croissant since it was becoming abundantly clear he wasn’t going to get to eat the breakfast he’d ordered himself, “though it’s been a few years now. Father used to go fairly regularly for business and would drag me along.”

“What did you do when you were there?”

“I used to spend a lot of time at the natural history museum and the New York Public Library.”

“Of course you did,” she smiled fondly as she spoke. She was well aware of his love of doing research and learning.

“I like dinosaurs,” he said matter-a-factly, "and the museum has an amazing exhibit.” It was true. He did like dinosaurs, even now, and he’d wanted to dig for them up until the point he discovered girls were infinitely more interesting, and alive. Demelza didn’t need to know that bit though.

“You are such a boy,” she said with a shake of her head. “What else did you two men do on the town?”

“Sometimes we take in a show or go to dinner at fancy restaurants. I didn’t realize it at the time, but he was trying to teach me a bit of culture. One time we went because Papa wanted to see Van Morrison at Radio City Music Hall.”

“Really?”

He chuckled, surprised that little piece of information had taken her by surprise. She did know his father pretty well at this point. “He is a fan.”

“I’d say so. He can be so impulsive!”

“You have no idea,” Ross drawled, tamping down some very unpleasant memories from his youth that she need not be burdened with, “you didn’t know him in his heyday.”

She smiled fondly, and it warmed Ross’ heart that his wife and his father got on like a house on fire, but he could not help the occasional flare of jealousy it caused. “I bet he was quite the charmer back then,” Demelza giggled.

“You’d probably be married to him instead of me,” he said with a fair dash of bitterness. There were still a few things he just could not let go of and he knew it as childish to hold on to them for as long as he had, but then logic and his father were often mutually exclusive.

“I dunno about that.” Demelza reached across to take his hand with hers, twining their fingers and giving them a little squeeze, her eyes going soft as she looked at him. “I sorta kinda love you.”

“Only sorta kinda?” he teased, pulling her hand up to place a playful kiss to her knuckles.

“From the first time I saw you in the library,” she confessed, her cheeks suddenly blooming pink.

“Is that so, Mrs Poldark?” That was news to him and he was most definitely intrigued. Ross had known he was a goner for Demelza the first time he laid eyes upon her, even if it took him months to actually admit to himself, and then even longer to let her in on his feelings. He’d had no inkling she’d felt the same. So much wasted time.

“Saved by the boarding call,” she crowed when the announcement of their flight interrupted their playful banter, and quickly began gathering up her things. The head of the cute little calico stuffed animal cat he’d surprised her with that morning was peeking out of the top of her purse. The airplane charm that had been on the ribbon about its neck had quickly been added to her bracelet.

He grabbed up his laptop bag to sling over his shoulder and his cane. “Don’t think for one second that this conversation is over.”

“Not if I can make you forget about it,” she said with what could only be described as a diabolical grin.

He eyed her with great suspicion. It wasn’t in her nature to be scheming that much he did know, but she was definitely up to something. The question was going to be whether or not he’d survive whatever it was. “And just how do you plan to do that?” he challenged.

“Oh, I dunno,” she purred, taking his hand before pressing in close to him to place a very sweet and demure kiss to his cheek. “Have you ever heard of the Mile High Club?”

#poldark fan fic #poldark modern au #ross/demelza #romelza #pud fic #pud's ex libris #veryflowerobservation

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ampleappleamble · 3 years

Text

—

Stubborn and haughty, it read. Dismissive of the soul sciences, as befitting his Aedyre heritage. Very rude and difficult to work with.

"Unbelievable," Aloth spat.

Upon leaving the sanitarium, the group had jointly decided that perhaps their trip to the expedition den could wait until the following day. However, there were still a few loose ends around town to tie up, and a few more hours of daylight in which to do it. Nevertheless– and despite his objections– Axa insisted that Aloth stay behind and rest at the inn, give his nerves a brief respite after all he'd been through that day while the rest of the party tended to business. And so now he sat in his room at the Charred Barrel, alone with his thoughts.

And with Bellasege's research notes.

How relaxing, he thought, glaring hatefully at the little stack of papers.

Most of the document was utterly unintelligible to Aloth, consisting of either overly technical animancy jargon or Vailian hen scratch, but what little she'd bothered to scribble down in Aedyran only asserted what he already knew– that this woman was a charlatan, a sensationalist hack more interested in reinforcing her own harebrained assumptions than in helping anyone. Least of all him, considering she evidently knew exactly what his fellow Aedyrans thought about animancy and the Awakened and yet she still intended to publish his full name and home province along with her ludicrous excuse of a diagnosis. All she was after, as he suspected most animancers were, was fortune and glory, and his reputation was apparently a sacrifice she was willing to make in the pursuit of that goal.

He had known since the instant the woman had started transcribing his very personal, very private memories that her notes would somehow have to find their way into his hands, so as soon as he'd seen his chance, he'd taken it– and as soon as he'd secured the notes and slipped them into his cloak, he'd seen Axa watching him. Not expecting to be caught in the act, he'd frozen in horror, silently pleading with the little woman to turn a blind eye– and he'd been pleasantly surprised when she'd done exactly that, glancing furtively at Bellasege and then back at him before turning her back on them both and heading for the door, the barest hint of disapproval in her eyes.

Part of him couldn't help but think that that was why she'd left him here by himself– because she was disappointed with him for betraying Bellasege's trust like that, promising her her long-sought prize only to rip it away immediately afterwards, and right under her nose to boot. But he reminded himself that Axa wasn't the kind of woman to practice punitive shunning like that, and if she'd had a problem with what he'd done, she'd have discussed it with him, probably even called him out right there in the animancer's office. After all, she had to know that it had been her who had truly helped him, not Bellasege. So what would she care if that fraud no longer had anything to show for her so-called efforts?

"'Be ever honest, forthright, and true'– fye, yer a fine auld piece o' work, laddie."

Iselmyr had been uncharacteristically quiet ever since her outburst in the sanitarium, her appetite for bickering seemingly sated until now, and Aloth jumped at her sudden resurgence in his mind. "Maybe you'd be perfectly fine with word of our condition becoming common knowledge back home," he retorted, recovering quickly, "but I would rather keep our private matters private. Besides, I didn't hear you objecting at the time."

He was expecting more of her usual sharp-tongued impudence, but was surprised when Iselmyr only scoffed softly in his mind instead. "Naught t' object tae. Fer once."

Iselmyr not sassing him was one thing, but Iselmyr actually agreeing with him was quite another. Stunned into silence, Aloth could only blink stupidly as Axa's words back at the sanitarium popped into his head– "Try it her way, let her in"– when there was a knock at the door, and, grateful for the interruption, he bid his visitor enter.

Axa stepped in slowly, carefully, only cracking the door just enough to allow her inside before shutting it behind her. "Hey," she smiled, rubbing at a fresh bruise on her forearm as she crossed the room. "Just got back. The others are downstairs having a late dinner. How're you holding up?"

"As well as can be expected," he replied breezily, shifting position to face her, frowning as he gestured to her wound. "Looks like you had an eventful evening despite my absence. What happened?"

"Oh, nothing serious," she sighed. "Helped an old man find and free the soul of his long-dead lover from a necromancer... gave an orlan who'd found himself on the wrong side of the law a second chance at life... exorcised a lighthouse by striking a deal with some pirates... The usual, you know." She grinned up at him briefly before thrusting her chin at the sheaf of paper in his hands, clearing her throat. "Still figuring out what you're gonna do with those, are you?"

"Oh, I know exactly what I'm going to do with them," he sneered, twisting the notes into a tight little tube in his hands. "I was just looking though them first for any information that might actually be useful to me. I'm sure it'll surprise you to learn I found nothing." He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "She didn't even get the color of my hair correct. You wouldn't happen to need a light for your pipe, would you?"

Axa laughed and declined politely, and so Aloth narrowed his eyes at the animancer's notes, gesturing with his free hand and whispering a few arcane power words, and in a few seconds the papers were ablaze, quickly crumbling into ash on the floor. Another gesticulation, a few more muttered words, and seconds later even the blackened remains were swept away into the aether, leaving nothing behind but a gray smudge on the rug.

"Well, that's that then." Axa sighed, shaking her head as she stared at the smokey spot. "Shame you two couldn't have helped each other more."

He looked away, crossing his arms over his chest. "More? She didn't help me at all. She pointed some contraption at me, humiliated me with prying questions, and when she couldn't even be bothered to put together her own conclusions, she relied on you to fill in the gaps. If anything, my destroying her ridiculous notes is evening the score."

"I know you've not much love for animancers, Aloth, but Bellasege really was trying. Whether it was to help you learn about yourself or to further her own knowledge of the soul sciences, I can't rightly say, but still." The orlan planted her fists on her hips, regarding him cautiously. "Personally, I think she was in over her head a bit. But how can we expect animancers to improve any or to advance the craft as a whole if we don't cooperate with them every now and again?"

"That would be fair enough if their methods were ever anything approaching sound," he retorted. "But you heard her. Black bile? My spleen? Drivel. Quackery. And publishing my identifying information like that is entirely irresponsible. What if someone from home were to see it? I'd be ruined." Color had crept into his face as he'd spoken, and he paused a moment to collect himself, but only succeeded in winding himself up further. "The only reason we figured out anything about my condition from that farce in her office is because you and I have half decent educations and a modicum of common sense between us. Imagine your average kith– Hel, your average Dyrwoodan going to a woman like Bellasege for a consultation. Big words and shiny gadgets are all most people need to believe just about anything a con artist like her can conjure up."

The little woman raised her eyebrow at him. "You do bring up some good points, I'll grant you that. Question is, what's to be done about it? As it is now, the only authority anyone seems to want to exert over the practice is to either let animancers– or anyone who calls themselves animancers– go totally unchecked, or to ban animancy completely. Is there to be no middle ground?"

"It's not our political leaders' jobs to understand animancy's deepest nuances so they can legislate it 'fairly'," he sighed, gently massaging his temple. "They've enough to contend with without having to study an experimental new branch of science, particularly in the Dyrwood."

"Then why not make animancers the ones who decide? Or, at least, give them the chance to advise those who do the deciding." Axa's eyes brightened as she argued, reminding Aloth uncomfortably of Kana. "A council of well-respected animancers, perhaps, selected from among those most trusted and revered in their fields."

Aloth's lip drew back in a grimace. "Let animancers legislate themselves? That's a recipe for disaster if ever I heard one."

She shrugged. "Just tossing out ideas. We'd all probably fare better that way than we do in the chaos we have now."

"I don't see how, but... seeing as it's coming from you, the idea might be worth considering." The words were out of his mouth before he really realized what he was saying, and he jolted slightly to hear himself say them.

She laughed. "Don't go around pinning all your trust on any one person or institution completely, Aloth. Not even me. You'll regret it, trust me."

He smiled at his feet, cheeks and ears growing warm. "As you say, Lady Mala. What's on the schedule for tomorrow, then? I'd join you and the others and discuss the matter over dinner, but if I'm being honest, I'm having a rather difficult time working up an appetite for yet more overboiled stew and watered wine."

Her demeanor changed in an instant, her casual slouch straightening, her face abruptly flipping from relaxed to sober. "Wyla, the justiciar from Crucible Keep that we talked to this morning, caught us on our way back here," she stated gravely. "Heritage Hill will be open to us tomorrow morning."

Aloth froze. "Heritage Hill," he repeated softly. "Did she... have anything to say about the conditions beyond the gates?"

She shook her head again, a haunted look drifting into her eyes. "Apparently, it's bedlam in there," she murmured. "Patrols go in, but they don't come out. The dead walk the streets."

"And the Leaden Key has something to do with it all," he finished for her.

"They do. They must. And we're going to find out what. Together," she answered, determination hardening her voice. She gave him a feisty grin, then, lifted her eyes to meet his, and the intensity of her gaze made him avert his. "So you'd better get some rest, then, if you're not going to eat."

He chuckled amicably. "As long as we don't get anymore unexpected midnight visitors, I'm sure I'll be well rested come morning."

She scoffed and swatted him lightly on the knee. "Well! I'll just bind my feet before turning in for the night, shall I?"

They laughed together for a moment, then, and Aloth felt something inside him finally loosening up and spreading throughout him, like an enormous flower made of light and air blooming in his chest. It made him feel warm and giddy and free in a way he never really had before, and the feeling persisted even after Axa had spun on her heel and sauntered across the room, smiling at him one last time before disappearing into the hallway beyond, pulling the door shut behind her. He didn't know exactly what it meant– he'd never felt it before, so how could he?– but he had his suspicions, none of which he was really prepared to get into tonight. So instead he got ready for bed, smile still stuck to his warm face as he changed into his nightclothes, washed his face, brushed his hair.

Was ye e'er plannin' on tellin' her it was yerself whit let her intae yer room last night? He could practically hear the cheeky little grin in Iselmyr's voice.

"No," he sighed, "because it was you who did that, not I. And you know it." He was still smiling. He couldn't seem to stop.

Fye, lad, whit diff'rence dae it make?

"All the difference in the world," he answered, and with a flick of his wrist, all the lights in the room simultaneously snuffed out.

—

#pillars of eternity #poe anthem infinitum #yes it's a joke about the wiki saying he has 'dark brown' hair #it's black though........?#also holy shit chapter 11 is finished #polishing and posting the full chapter soon!#thanks for reading ♡

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plumoh · 3 years

Text

[FEH] weight

Rating: G

Word count: 2715

Summary: After spending time together, and realizing they have more in common than he initially believed, Roy thinks he and Annette are cut from the same cloth.

Note: AO3 link. I believe Roy and Annette would be very good friends and will find in each other companionship...they’re good kids. No spoilers for either game.

“Is this not… your preferred weapon?”

“Oh, not at all! My uncle sent me to the School of Sorcery, where I study hard. I was put through some axe training because of my family’s relic, but I’d rather fight with my spells than fight with… this.”

Annette gestures at the giant axe that is lying on the ground while they’re resting in-between treasure hunting sessions, her face twisted in something akin to embarrassment. Roy glances at the wiggling teeth and shudders; yeah, he wouldn’t want to wield this weapon either.

“I’ve never seen a weapon quite like that,” he says.

“Crusher isn’t the worst, trust me. Sylvain wasn’t summoned with his family’s relic, but the Lance of Ruin is terrifying and seems straight out of a nightmare.”

Fódlan’s sacred weapons look like they were cursed instead of blessed by the Goddess—nobody in their right mind would look at them and think they weren’t going to have half their energy sucked dry. Roy has been in Askr long enough to know some heroes are being corrupted by their own powers, and he doesn’t wish it on anyone who still has the chance to keep them in check.

Today’s hunting spot is near a cliff, where they’re supposed to gather materials to upgrade their armors, as usual; with so many heroes arriving each day, Kiran is determined to welcome them as best as possible with fitted armors and spare weapons in case something goes wrong with the weapon they were summoned with. It usually takes a while before anyone has to change their weapon, but they can never be too safe.

Roy is picking at some grass blades as he listens to Prince Leo and Peony talk about specific species of flowers good for insomnia, and he can’t help thinking that the words leaving Prince Leo’s mouth are from experience, rather than simple knowledge. They’ve stumbled upon each other many a time in the library at night, when both of them should be in bed resting instead of doing whatever research or studying they were up to—not that anyone else knows, of course.

“Have you studied magic, Lord Roy?” Annette asks with a small smile, apparently eager to talk about a subject she’s well versed in.

Roy frowns. “You can call me Roy.”

Annette’s eyes narrow and she shakes her head. “That wouldn’t be proper, you’re a noble from another country!”

“But you let me call you Annette, would you rather I call you Lady Annette?”

“You’re a Marquess’s son!”

“From what I’ve gathered Sylvain is a Margrave’s son, our statuses are the same, and you call him Sylvain!”

“...I haven’t thought about that.”

Roy resists the urge to groan. Why is it so hard for people to simply call him by his name?

Annette’s face is pinched, like she cannot determine whether it truly makes sense for her to be informal with people she’s fighting alongside with. Roy thought that people his age would also prefer be addressed casually by their friends and allies.

“Alright, I guess you’re right… Roy,” Annette says tentatively.

Roy smiles. “See, isn’t this better? There’s no need to follow etiquette so closely between friends.”

“I might take some time to get used to it...”

“That’s fine, don’t worry.”

Annette nods, still a bit anxious about it but Roy has learned that it’s just her simple state of being—worrying over everything and anything, making sure that she is doing her job correctly and that she isn’t inadvertently inconveniencing anyone. Well, at least he understands her desire to work hard to be as helpful as possible.

“To answer your question, I did study magic, but I’m not very good at it,” he admits. “My teacher was Cecilia. Lilina and I were her students, but she was much more talented than I was.”

Recalling those memories always brings a small tinge of disappointment; he logically knows that some people are naturally compatible with magic, and others are not, but he can’t help feeling a bit envious of anyone wielding a weapon in one hand and shooting spells with the other.

“Do you want to pursue it? We could study together!”

“I don’t think we’d be reading the same level of material,” Roy chuckles. “That would be wonderful, but I think it’s better if I keep training with the sword, which is a weapon that I understand better.”

He also doesn’t know if studying magic now would yield more results than it did years ago.

“Focusing on what you’re best at...” Annette mumbles. “Well, if you change your mind, I’ll gladly help you.”

Annette smiles at him, eager and kind, and Roy mirrors her expression.

***

It’s almost comical to see Annette and Lord Hector training together, swinging an axe at full force for a strength exercise. The Hector from Roy’s time is much bigger and cuts an even more imposing figure, but even in his youth he was a feared and powerful warrior. Lifting the weapon and tearing through dummies isn’t a struggle at all for Annette, despite her claim that she isn’t proficient enough in axes to be fully reliant in battle. Her support has been more invaluable than she thinks.

Lord Hector is laughing and clapping her on the shoulder, seemingly satisfied with the progress she’s making. Roy wonders if Lilina would train with an axe if it meant spending time with her father this way.

Annette dips her head and thanks Lord Hector, and they keep practicing more drills. Roy decides that he’s taken a long enough break and focuses back on the training dummy, shifting his sword and positioning it like a rapier for quick and nimble attacks. He’s wielded the Binding Blade for so long that he has almost forgotten how to fight with a lighter and thinner blade—it feels exhilarating to revert back to a stance his body is used to. He has used his time in Askr to polish his skills and to get accustomed to the heavy weight of the Binding Blade; he still has much to learn, especially from heroes more experienced than him who will provide useful insight about tactics and the battlefield, so he can’t relax just yet.

***

“I’m not as good at baking as Mercie, but I promise they’re tasty!”

Annette is shoving some berry tarts at him, eyes sparkling and face full of anticipation. She took it upon herself to find what kind of food the people of the army likes, and apparently it also includes desserts and sweets. Roy doesn’t particularly like sweets, but refusing such a treat baked with passion wouldn’t be courteous of him. He smiles at Annette and takes the tart, and chews slowly. Oh, that might be a good idea, actually.

“I like it,” he says sincerely. “It’s not too sweet.”

“I’m glad to hear that! I still have plenty of recipes to try for all kinds of occasions, I hope that the others will enjoy them too.” She pauses, then pinches her chin between her fingers. “Muffins are a good way to find what stuffing people like...”

Roy shakes his head, a bit amused.

“Do you always go to such lengths for other people?”

Annette’s face relaxes and looks just as warm as her voice sounds.

“I’m told I do too much, sometimes, but I can’t help it. I have to give my all in everything I do, and this includes making sure that my friends get moments of joy, too. And pastries always cheer people up! Well, most people.”

This, Roy understands; to be pushed by the drive of accomplishment, to please and to ensure everyone is happy and comfortable. In times of war, even the smallest attention can bring a smile on someone’s face, because there is still kindness in people’s hearts, despite everything. This is what Roy wants to believe, and Annette seems to share this point of view.

“You are a good person, Annette.”

Annette laughs, frantically waving her hands in front of her face. “I’m just doing what I can. I’m so clumsy that I’m relieved I haven’t caused any major incident yet.”

“Surely it isn’t as disastrous as you think it is?”

She makes a face. “I’m probably cursed to trip over a barrel even when I checked the halls were empty.”

He doesn’t mean to offend her in any way, but Roy chuckles at the image this conjures up. Annette crosses her arms over chest and frowns at him. She looks stern and ready to chew him out for laughing at her accidents, so Roy quickly composes himself.

“I’m sorry, mocking you wasn’t my intention,” he assures her. “Please be more careful, we wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

“We should get rid of barrels,” Annette mutters.

“How would we contain wine and other liquids then?”

The question seems to actually spark an interest in Annette as she keeps frowning, but her face takes on a contemplative air. Roy rubs the back of his neck.

“Um, do you have more of those berry tarts? I think Wolt will enjoy them.”

“Oh! Of course, come with me.”

Annette takes his arm and drags him to the kitchens, and Roy can’t help feeling completely at ease, finding Annette’s enthusiasm and energy refreshing.

***

Sitting at a table in the quiet gardens, Roy is flipping through his battle tactics notebook when he’s jerked to the side and almost falls out of his chair.

“Roy, I need your help to fight against sword wielders!” Annette exclaims earnestly. “Lord Hector is giving me really good tips but I’m still struggling when a sword is pointed my way. With my magic I’d fight more easily and have faster reaction, but I’m still not used to Crusher and—”

“Woah, Annette, calm down. I accept?”

Annette looks like she hasn’t slept for days and is running on adrenaline or caffeine, but given her sweet tooth Roy doubts she even likes coffee. She sighs in relief.

“Thank you! The Professor is busy and the heroes from my world are already on a mission, so...”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m happy to help.”

And this is how they end up in the training grounds, though they’re using their real weapons instead of training ones. Roy supposes it makes sense; Crusher is hefty, dragging its wielder forward or backward, and seems to be channeled with magic, if the light orange glow is anything to judge by. It’s not a weapon you get accustomed to easily. Annette insisted he use the Binding Blade and to fight like they’re in a real battle—Roy trusts her skills and her strength, but it’s still a sparring session. He doesn’t want her to get hurt because of his carelessness.

Roy has never gone up against Annette before, but he can already tell that she’s a powerful and unpredictable opponent. The swing of her axe isn’t as fast as she probably would like, but she manages to be accurate and hit hard. The Binding Blade comes up to block the attack and pushes back, forcing Annette to step back. Roy tilts his blade and thrusts it towards her side, and before the flat of it touches her, she fully dodges to get out of harm’s way. She immediately springs back into action to smash Crusher over his shoulder, but even with her momentum all she manages to do is graze him.

They keep exchanging blows, parrying and dodging. If it were an actual battle, they most likely wouldn’t have been able to stand for so long without inflicting at least one serious injury. It seems that Annette is trying to prove something, or to assess her opponent. Roy stays silent though, continuing to swing his sword until one of them collapses or draws more blood than a spar would allow. Axe wielders heavily rely on brute force, but Annette is swifter and more nimble than most—her fighting style is almost similar to Echidna’s.

They eventually tire themselves out, and when Roy has the Binding Blade poised to strike Annette across the chest as she can’t lift Crusher in time, they stop.

“Thanks for training with me,” she says, a bit breathless.

Roy wipes beads of sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand, and because nobody is around to see them in this state, he decides to sit right then and there on the ground, gently laying down the Binding Blade and catching his breath.

“Did you manage to figure something out?”

Annette joins him on the ground, nodding.

“I’ve sparred against other people too, and I know that swordmasters tend to thrust and to go for the small openings, so I tried to use what I know against someone I’ve never trained with.”

“It makes sense.”

“That also brings me to the realization that I really do need to get used to Crusher and its power.” Annette rubs the bridge of her nose. “I just don’t understand why I was entrusted with my family’s relic so early. I’m clearly not prepared yet.”

Roy glances at the Binding Blade. Anyone could have met the criteria to wield such a mighty weapon; and yet, it was him who took on the burden to use it. People say that each weapon is unique and alive, and those inhabited by the spirits of warriors and their legacy even more so—those who take up Armads are cursed to die on the battlefield, and this isn’t a hearsay he wants to find out. Annette is looking for answers he wishes he had.

“I think that sometimes we are bestowed gifts that we only see as burdens, because others are putting their faith in us.”

He looks down at his lap where he clenches his fists. He hasn’t thought about this in a long time.

“They trust us to do the right thing, or at the very least that we will when we are able to. It’s like… they expect that our position will grant us the wisdom to do right.”

There are events out of his control, and all he can do is stand on his two feet to show that he won’t disappoint anyone who entrusted their life to him.

Two hands come covering his own, and he looks up to see Annette smiling sadly at him, though there is something like understanding flashing in her eyes.

“We are probably in similar situations, right?” she laughs weakly, as she nods towards the Binding Blade. “Those big weapons in our hands feel heavier than they should. Maybe something bad is going to happen in the future and this is why I was summoned here with Crusher, so that I can get used to it. Maybe it’s like you said, it’s a gift and I refuse to see its value.”

Her hands are warm and reassuring as she squeezes, still keeping her smile on her face even if her voice hasn’t shed its layer of self-doubt. Roy doesn’t think they will ever grow out of doubting their own abilities and worth, unless they learn to live with the expectations piling up on their shoulders. However, it doesn’t mean they can’t start now or take small steps to get there. He returns Annette’s smile and squeezes back.

“Refusing to see the value of the gift doesn’t mean you’re rejecting it. You’re working hard to master Crusher, that counts for something.”

“I suppose. It’s still frustrating to keep going without having answers.” She sighs and shakes her head. “But knowing that I’m not alone in this struggle helps a bit. I have to overcome my own fears.”

“It’s a long journey, but I believe in you. You’re resilient and resourceful.”

The laugh that escapes Annette’s throat is genuine. It’s not full of confidence, and this is not the solution she was seeking, but it’s close to one.

“You have a way with words, Roy! We’ll do our best together.”

Roy’s lips curl into a grin. “Our efforts will pay off, I’m sure of it.”

Annette pats his hands one last time before they get up. She hoists Crusher over her shoulder while Roy sheathes the Binding Blade; the sword is still a persistent weight against his side, one he’s become familiar with, but slowly, steadily, it will become a weight holding the proof of his achievement.

#fe6 #fe3h #feh #annette fantine dominic #roy #fe sword of seals #fe heroes #i love these kids!! they're doing their best!!#two teenagers trying to do well and bearing on their shoulders heavy expectations.....

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ashes-in-a-jar · 3 years

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Tma relisten Episodes 11-15

So this round already has two other posts out of it about Oliver because he Bae.

These have alot of ideas regarding entities changing around reality, controlling non victims to set the stage, and turning around what people love most to their worst fear. Also insane abilities of the crew to obtain hard to access info and evidence! And some more Jon sass. Enjoy!

11 dreamer

Wow this episode had alot. I made a separate post with a theory about Oliver's statement here and a realization regarding him and Jane Prentiss here. They are alot to unpack

Oliver is so. Freaking. Relatable! Learned economics and hated it. Nearly had a breakdown like him because of it. "going to stay with some of the few friends that had survived my year of stress-fuelled outbursts and constantly cancelled plans." yep. That.

Boyfriend Graham ey? You notebook eating Graham?? Wow that guy is full of surprises.

I love the dream sequences and their descriptions it's a really beautiful thing to try and picture.

Its interesting how he went from passive to desparate to passive again about death. He tries but can't help. I wonder when the dreams started to bother him so much he sought after the silence of point Nemo. Was it when they became so full of red because of the apocalypse coming closer? Hmmm

Another person named John. I guess that makes sense it's a common name. But I forgot how many people are fully named in this podcast. Hundreds of names to come up with! Jonny I'm quite impressed!

He worked with Jane Prentiss in the magic shop! I can't believe I forgot about that! Wow small avatar world indeed.

"It led me to a room, the label of which was still visible, and read “Archive”. I entered to see walls covered with shelves and cabinets stretching off into the distance. These shelves were coated in a sticky black tar, which I knew at that moment was the thickened, pulpy blood that pumped through each and every one of those veins." everything that has to do with the Fears I bet. Full of death and destruction and stolen from the veins to be out on display for the Eye's pleasure.

Yo Jon is scared of this he's seriously considering going to Elias for advice

" I had Tim look into it, as I don’t entirely trust the others not to have written it as a practical joke" wait. He trusts TIM? Not to do a practical joke? How. Why. Eh?

"died in the line of duty" fuck you Jonah.

Now Jon will get every new statement immediately when it's made. Perhaps this was Elias' intention all along. To scare him into making sure he does not miss any paranormal activity recorded by the institute.

12 first aid

I'm not immune to more Gerry badassery, hell yeah

And we get polish Martin which hell yeah! Even if Jon doesn't believe it. I'm sure he's repressing the fact that he's thoroughly impressed.

I think it's really interesting the effect entities have on people who are decidedly not their victims. Everyone leaving no questions so the entity can set the scene for the scare. Like with Gillespie how no one lived in the apartment building he was in etc. Alot of work into a handful of people being genuinely scared.

Gerry's burns stopped at the neck? How did he manage that. Also it's hilarious to imagine that he's like "yes burn all of me but please. not my goth makeup"

Zippo lighter with eye design!! And Jon has web design! They are brothers (joke but still really interesting)

Liquids were boiling around her and she didn't feel the heat. Also an interesting effect just for the scare.

Gerry got eye superpowers like Jon if he can function while injure and filled with painkillers.

“Yes. For you, better beholding than the lightless flame.” Gerry knew she'd be haunted by a Fear from that day on and realised that perhaps being watched would be easier for her specifically to deal with than the Desolation. I guess that's a way of assessing people. Which fear would least bother you.

Jon is already enamoured with Gerry you can tell. He can't wait to hear more from him. Just you wait Jon.

They really can access alot of information huh. CCTV Interviews files. Pretty impressive for a non-research team. They're so good at it they'd rather do that than actual archiving.

13 alone

The sound editing in this episode is not that great it was a bit to get used to.

We get a glimpse at the Lukases which is... Ugh

Jon is actually trying to be nice. Granted it's not working and she is a bit of a standoffish person herself who just went through a bad time but alot of her reactions are not his fault. He was trying to be considerate giving her space to record but he did stay when she asked.

She had already leaned into the Lonely before the incident it's interesting to see how some of these statements start with a person actually liking the aspect that later turns to fear. Same happens in lost johns' cave.

Evan Lukas sounds like an avatar of the exact opposite of the Lonely. At least to her. That's a really interesting effect from someone, especially a Lukas.

But maybe dying wasn't his family killing him but him not feeding his patron which he tried to leave. Really tragic.

She was in Martin's domain eyyy!

It's got a bit of buried aspects to it with the grave stuff and all.

"My fingers dug into the soft cemetery dirt as I looked around desperately for anything I could use to save myself, and my hand closed upon that heavy piece of headstone. It took all my self-control to keep a grip on that anchor, as I slowly dragged myself away from the edge of my lonely grave." The headstone was her anchor? But it said forgotten. I wonder how it helped her pull away. It probably had to go together with Evan's voice. Like the rib and the tape recorders having to work together! I just wonder what meaning the stone had for her.

"I’d be tempted to chalk this one up to a hallucination from stress and trauma, if it wasn’t for the fact... " God he does believe her heavens. He's not a skeptic!

This is when Jon's dreams start which... Good luck Jon.

14 piecemeal

Rentoul is terrifying sonofabitch and I would never want to meet him irl

I remembered them talking about how he was supposed to be a person who cursed alot and they couldn't do it because of sensor and I have to agree this could have been much better for the story. I tried imagining curses in some places.

LOL Jon reading this is funny. Trying to voice act the bad boy. Doesn't sound right on his voice.

With these kinds of statements happening alot where the person does something bad, the institute has to be in touch with police over them. The nda has to include that.

Hello Angela! I really wonder what her deal is. She scared the bid bully so she gotta have creepy vibes to the extreme.

Another lighter! Hmm do I have to start following the lighter motiff in this podcast. This one has a topless woman on it. Flesh lighter?

Salesa's also appearing that's cool! Noriega was probably looking for an artifact to reverse the curse. Didn't work tho since they left with the crate. The buried crate perhaps?

I'm wondering. Was this written? Because the statement sounds like he's talking. If so, Where's the recording?

Oh Jon your attitude towards Martin is so bad. He works so hard and it's not even in what he's good at, sorting and filing like he knows how to do from the library. God.

What's the deal with all the furniture gone? Did he think it'll help not get injured? He's not that smart if he thought that would help him.

15 lost Johns' cave

Ack a bad statement she was not a good person all around

Another example of the entities setting the stage by controlling others not to interfere with the victim's experience.

Also another example of the person liking the subject (cave exploration in this case. And the dark for that matter) only for it to turn against them.

Not much to say about this one other than its one of the scarier ones for sure. And her recording in the end is really the cherry on top. There is alot of discrepancy between what she believed happened and what actually did which shows how much the fear plays with and changes around reality. That's also how she manages to lie in a statement to Beholding. It wasn't a lie. It was her version of reality and she did not remember saying those awful words.

Taught me alot about cave diving and how much I will never do it in my life.

The Dark was mixed into this as well so it wasn't purely Buried.

Btw Where did she get the candles she was found with?

It feels like she made a choice. Didn't want to spend her last moments with her sister and then didn't want to die. She chose her sister to be taken over her. Her sister called for help and the candle coming closer might have been her! But she just shut her eyes.

How did Tim gain access to the recording?? Wow that's some prime evidence.

Martin is claustrophobic amongst other things huh? Live how Jon just dismisses this as an excuse not to work. At least he didn't push it.

#tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #Tim stoker #Oliver banks #Tma hiatus liveblog #gerry keay

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diavolodigitale · 3 years

Text

The Hitchhiker's Guide to Andromeda Galaxy - pt.3 Havarl

Oof, the chapters are getting longer as it always happens with me. This one, I think, is significantly better than the previous ones if we don’t consider the lame beginning ahahah

Genres: comedy, romance (vaguely), friendship maybe, some philosophy? I really don’t know what to call that.

Pairing: m!Ryder/Evfra

Characters: Ryder, Evfra, Vetra, Jaal

Rating: PG

Size: around 9 pages

Pt.1 - Pt.2 - Pt.3 - Pt.4 ----- All chapters in PDF

The weather on Havarl was as foggy and gloomy as always. High humidity made it hot and stuffy, so at times Ryder found it hard to breathe, wearing his full set of armor and carrying around all the weapons. The squelching of wet leaves and grass could be heard behind him as his companions made their way forward.

“I heard that Evrfa is now on Havarl as well,” mentioned Jaal, stepping over a peculiar looking mushroom.

“I thought he never leaves his sanctuary. Hard to imagine him doing something else besides work,” commented Vetra and proceeded adjusted her rifle so that it didn’t impede her movements.

Ryder coughed a few times. They were already a few steps away from the research facilities.

“The Resistance operates on many planets. We need to control the Roekaar activity here, so regular investigations on Havarl are no exceptions,” said Jaal.

Vetra sighed.

“Isn’t it crazy how the Resistance grew?” she began somewhat excitedly. “I’ve heard rumors that it used to be just a bunch of small groups of angara fighting off kett. And now you have a complex and highly flexible organization controlling most of the galaxy!”

“Indeed,” agreed Jaal. “What Evfra did to bring them all together is unimaginable. Even if his approach and methods aren’t unanimously accepted between the angara, his achievements are irrefutable.” Jaal stopped and took a long look at the cloudy dark sky.

“You seem so fascinated by him and his work,” noted Ryder, giving Jaal a light pat on the back.

“I respect him, yes. The decisions he has to make every day are a tough burden to carry on your own,”—Jaal took a deep breath, lowered his head and continued—“although, considering he thinks of me as his best soldier, he could have bestowed upon me an unrestricted freedom of choice in any situations.”

“And a better rank?” asked Ryder, giving the angara a friendly understanding smile.

“Undoubtedly,” agreed Jaal and nodded.

Vetra checked the time on her omni-tool and looked around to make sure they arrived at the right place.

“Okay, I’ve got to leave you now. See you here exactly in three hours,” she said. “And no being late. Especially it applies to you, Ryder. Nobody will let us back on the ship without the Pathfinder,” she added strictly.

“And here I started to think that you really worry about me,” replied Ryder in a sad voice.

“My mothers always worry about you if that makes you feel better,” said Jaal in a sincere attempt to comfort him.

“Yes, Jaal, this is exactly what I needed to hear.”

Jaal headed to one of the local ships stationed on the landing area. He intended to visit his family since the vault on Havarl had just been activated, and the crew of the Tempest had some time to consider their subsequent steps in raising the viability of the planet. Besides, it was a good opportunity to just hang around and have some alone time since always being under pressure and not having enough time for themselves could lead to unwanted aftermath in terms of physical and psychological health, and nobody wanted that, especially being hundreds of years far from home.

Vetra disappeared in the dense forests, heading in the unknown direction with the unknown purpose. She refused to let the Pathfinder know about her business on the planet, but he reckoned it had something to do with illegal shipments. Nothing special, your usual smuggler stuff.

And Ryder… Well, he simply made up a reason to come. He had some data waiting to be transferred to the angaran scientist here on Havarl, but it surely wouldn’t take him three hours to do that. Usually, he tried to spend every free minute doing something productive and important, but after rescuing the whole planet it would be fair to give his team and himself a little rest. Unofficially, of course.

He decided to spend some time talking to the local researchers. The angaran history and culture was so foreign, yet seemed so captivating to him. Of course, humans already went through the phase of first contact with other races, but nobody had seemed so distant till this moment. Nothing here reminded him of familiar worlds, and it was simply riveting.

Most of the scientists were happy to share what they knew and even more happy to listen to the information he could provide them with. Despite that, some still preferred to stay away from strangers like the Pathfinder. Their distrust could easily be explained by the strong influence of the Roekaar on this planet. Being here, Ryder was content simply with the fact that nobody tried to shoot him on sight only because of him being an alien.

Having left the safety of the research station behind, he strolled into dense jungles that covered major part of the planet. He didn’t have any particular purpose in mind apart from exploring a bit while he still had the time.

Due to the abundance of wildlife, it was practically impossible to take a good look around without being in constant fear for your life, so Ryder tried to approach his expedition with caution.

“Pathfinder, I detect motion in the bushes in front of you. There appear to be two lifeforms engaged in a fight. Be vigilant,” warned him the voice in his head.

Trusting SAM unconditionally, Ryder turned on tactical vision on his helmet and indeed saw two figures, one of which looked like an angara, and the other one reminded some kind of an animal, most likely a Challyrion, judging by the silhouette. Recalling reports about unnatural mutations which animals on Havarl had undergone, Ryder took out his shotgun, ready both for fight and flight.

With a sharp motion of his hand, he removed the leaves blocking his field of vision only to see Evfra holding a giant beast by its neck. Startled by Pathfinder’s sudden appearance, he got distracted from the animal, which indeed turned out to be a Challyrion, and it managed to break free and go invisible.

“Sorry?” mumbled Ryder, still standing with his shotgun drawn out.

“Hide your weapon”—Evfra shook off bits of non-existent dust from his clothes—“or you might hurt yourself.”

Ryder removed his weapon back to the holster and took off his helmet, panting. He rubbed his forehead, trying to wipe away the sweat, but instead leaving a dark line from his dirty glove.

“What are you d—”

Evfra interrupted Ryder and made a gesture with his hand for the Pathfinder to follow him. “It is best if we don’t stand here. It may have fled now, but it will soon come back with all its pack.”

“Seems like we meet awfully often lately,” commented Ryder, following Evfra.

“Yes, unfortunately,” grunted Evfra.

“Really, what were the odds that I’d stumble upon you here when you are on another mission.”

Ryder tried to keep up with Evfra’s pace, even though it was quite challenging for him. The heat made it hard to breathe and the fact that he didn’t know the surroundings didn’t help either. The Resistance leader, it seemed, knew every tree and every winding of the path, while Ryder stumbled and bumped into everything.

“Actually, it is my day off,” stated Evfra indifferently.

“Visiting your family?”

“I have no family to visit,” without hesitation said the angara with voice still clear and unshaken.

“Oh… I didn’t… I mean, Jaal came here to see his family, so I just assumed…” Ryder apologetically lowered his head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” He cleared his throat.

“You didn’t kidnap them, so you have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Did kett do it?” asked Ryder carefully.

“There was nobody else to do it. Angara are in no habit of harming their own kind.”

“Is that why you decided to join the Resistance?” asked Ryder. Actually, this particular question was something that had interested him for a long time.

“That is why I decided to lead it,” answered Evfra, without giving it a second thought.

“Seems like we have something in common.”

Evfra hemmed. He could not see a single thing they had in common.

“Don’t be so skeptical,” said Ryder, noticing his reaction. “I lost my mom 600 years ago and my dad… Let’s just say, he was supposed to be the Pathfinder, not me.”

“Jaal mentioned you have a sister.” Evfra began walking more slowly, trying to adjust to Ryder’s speed.

“Yeah,” simply replied Ryder.

“And where is she know?” continued Evfra, sensing something must be wrong with this topic.

“Lying in the cryo pod on the Nexus, waiting until I find at least one place appropriate for a new beginning of a human race.” Ryder stopped in front of a massive tree with long crooked branches. He took off his glove to feel its gnarled desiccated texture. “You know, being in a coma, she now talks even less than you. Really doesn’t provide much moral support, huh?”

Evfra watched the Pathfinder stand before the tree, illuminated by the bluish light emitted by plants endemic to this planet. The facial expression the Pathfinder had reminded him of that one James showed on Kadara when hearing his careless remark about other human Pathfinders.

Unlike humans, angara not only expressed their emotions freely, but were also able to sense true feelings of others, even in spite of poor manifestation. Evfra mostly expressed anger, impatience and persistence, but that didn’t mean he didn’t know the other ones.

Misery, despair, grief. He had seen it all long before.

Not being a master of leading fruitful conversations, he tried to change the topic as best as he could.

“Was it beautiful on Earth?” he asked, seemingly genuinely interested.

Ryder made an effort to pull himself together, put on the glove, and turned his reddened face to Evfra.

“It was. No matter where you went, all places were different. It took years to discover all things that inhabited it and to understand their purpose. I cannot really do justice describing life on Earth, because it is impossible to turn into words.”

“It is hard to believe such a place existed.”

“I hope it still does,” said Ryder, and a faint smile appeared on his face. “Being here, sometimes I like to imagine returning to Earth and seeing how everything has changed.”

“You have already been to some “golden worlds”, as you call them, in our cluster. Did you like any of them?”

“Well, most of them don’t look the way we expected…”—Ryder rubbed his nose clumsily and gave Evfra another barely noticeable smile—“but even if we imagine that they are habitable… I don’t know. I just don’t think I’ll ever see the place that’s able to make me feel the same way Earth did.”

“Really?”—some kind of playful air appeared around Evfra; Ryder had never seen him like that before—“Follow me then.”

James didn’t understand the sudden change, but decided to give in to this strange challenge. He followed Evfra closely, carefully stepping over weird plants and avoiding curious insects hitting him right into his face after approaching way too close. This time the tempo of their walk wasn’t as fast, so it was easier for him to follow.

They didn’t say a word, but this silence was not at all burdening. Ryder listened to how the wilderness sounded, observed how the Havarl jungles lived and transformed in real time. They didn’t look like anything he had ever seen before yet felt so intimate and not at all threatening, even though they should have.

Ryder was thinking about how he could prolong this moment and never come back to the Tempest, when they approached an enormous dark wall. It was part of the remnant construction, the likes of which were scattered all around the planet. The cracks in it were glowing with blue and turquoise light, adding to the gleam created by fluorescent plants and fungi.

“Ready for a quick climb?” asked Evfra the dumbfounded Pathfinder.

“Only if there’s a safe way down,” said Ryder, although intending to climb up there anyway. It wasn’t every day that he got the opportunity to experience something Evfra willingly wanted to share.

Evfra started ascending first, showing where it was better to put a foot or a hand. Ryder watched attentively and repeated every step.

The remnant constructs were as solid and firm as they could be, so there was almost no chance something would collapse under him. Getting used to the overall rhythm of their movements, he began finding his own way up, climbing differently from Evfra.

Repetitive actions made him dive deep into his thoughts about the remnants and the role they played in the survival of this planet. He couldn’t grasp even the smallest impact they really had on the history and development of life here, and it scared him. Facing such a strong and incomprehensible force made him doubt his most significant success as well as the future of his endeavors.

Engulfed into his reflections, Ryder didn’t notice one piece of the construct that was about to fall out and grabbed it. His hand slipped, weighed down by the piece now detached from the wall.

As soon as Evfra heard rustling and swarming under him, he looked down only to see Ryder pathetically hanging on one hand.

“There is no rest beside you,” he sighed and lowered himself to grab Ryder by his loose arm and pull him up.

“Thanks,” mumbled the Pathfinder ablush. It really bugged him that whatever he did in front of Evfra led to him embarrassing himself.

“We are not far, hold on for a little longer.” Evfra’s voice almost sounded comforting and Ryder though that it was unusual for him to be like that.

After a few more minutes of climbing, they finally reached the top of the construct. Evfra made it up first and offered the Pathfinder his hand once again. Ryder did not attempt to refuse.

“If you wanted to show me the view from above, we could have just used the Mithrava Ascent,” stated Ryder, overcoming the last obstacle while tightly gripping Evfra’s hand. Having to experience such a treacherous way up, he now wanted to complain a bit to feel better.

“It is not quite the same. The fog at Mithrava makes it hard to see the real picture. Here the horizon is clear and… there is not a single soul.”

Red and inhaling jerkily, Ryder got down on his knees to give some rest to his tired limbs and to catch his breath.

“Take a look,” said Evfra, taking a seat beside Ryder.

James gazed up slowly and got lost in the open skies. He saw hundreds of stars gleaming through semi-transparent clouds and a huge red Gas Giant taking up a great part of the horizon. It seemed like beyond those starts and clouds he could see other clusters, other galaxies yet unnamed and undiscovered. Beneath the skies lied a sea of trees, living and breathing, the leaves of which whispered in the wind. Dark and bottomless, it reflected the lights of the stars in the glistening surface of plants. From the height he was on, they reminded James of fireflies.

A strong blow of wind cooled his heated face and made a mess of his short hair. He inhaled calmly, taking his time to fill the lungs with fresh night air, and exhaled. Now there was no place in his mind for the Tempest, for colonies, outposts, and diplomatic fuss. No place for exiles, kett, and all the people they have lost.

“Here you can pray to your gods. Even if they stayed in your homeworld, they will still hearken,” uttered Evfra under his breath.

James looked at the other remnant constructs and monoliths towering in the distance. He did not know whom to pray. Everything here was created by someone, but he was alien to this place. For him, there were no gods and no masters, only a vague purpose ahead, unshaped and remote. Far from home, he did not know what destiny awaited his people, but even though he would constantly carry the responsibility for his whole species, now it did not seem that arduous. Now it became an opportunity to outline his own future, intertwined with his people and many others who depended on him.

“Is it close to how good you’ve felt on Earth?” asked Evfra, his voice still low and quiet.

“Not even remotely,” said Ryder, smiling to himself. “It is much, much better.”

He didn’t know for how long they continued to sit there. Frankly speaking, he did not care. He felt like being there at that moment was much more decisive than fighting off hordes of enemies or planning the next offensive.

When they finally got down, the dreary overgrown forests of Havarl met them with the same apathetic attitude. Nothing altered down here, all the changes remained at the top of the construct and in Ryder’s mind.

The leader of the Resistance and the Pathfinder exchanged a few words on their way back to the research station, but overall didn’t talk much. Ryder seemed more composed and reserved than ever.

Being about fifty meters away from the place Ryder was supposed to meet his teammates at, Evfra looked at him one last time and said, “We are quite similar after all, Ryder,” before going his own way.

“I already told you, my name is—”

“I remember, no need to repeat,” he threw negligently over his shoulder without turning around.

The Pathfinder quickly reached the point of destination and was greeted by peacefully snoring Jaal, who leaned on a nearby wall, and nervous Vetra frantically walking back and forth.

“What. The hell. Is wrong with you?!” she yelled, approaching him and furiously waving her hand. “Three hours! We had to meet in three hours! Not six! That’s twice as much, Ryder, twice!”

Jaal suddenly woke up because of Vetra’s wailing and rubbed his eyes.

“Oh, Ryder, finally. Vetra already wanted to go look for you, but I assured her that if you’re lost in the Havarl jungle, there’s nothing she can do about it.”

Being in high spirits, Ryder laughed off all the questions and inquiries and headed in the direction of the Tempest.

“Come on, guys, let’s get going,” he appealed to his crewmembers. “The next time we’re in Vortex, drinks are on me.”

“You are just unbearable, do you know that?” asked Vetra. She was still annoyed no matter what he said in his defense.

“Yeah, I’ve heard that a few times.”

“Ask Peebee to go with you when you plan on disappearing for a few hours, she definitely won’t worry about you being eaten by a giant Eiroch or kidnapped by the Roekaar. I am sick and tired, so don’t you even come crawling…”

#Mass Effect #Mass Effect Andromeda #Andromeda #Fiction #Fanfiction #Ryder #Evfra #Ryder/Evfra #Ryder x Evfra #Vetra #Jaal #HGTAG

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pianodoesterror · 3 years

Text

2020 Fanfic in Review

tagged by the realest, @veganthranduil - thaaank you.

I reversed the question order a bit because, like veganthranduil, my list of fics written this year is... extensive. And that’s also how they did it so.

Takeaways from reflecting on your kick-ass writing, or kick-ass lack of writing, during a year more focused on survival than perhaps any other:

I wrote a lot. So much. I went from 59 fics to 100 and that’s just... show’s how boring my year was. There is a lot of familiar themes and vibes in my fics that I am highly aware of; I think they are as much for comfort as they are for ease tbh. Who doesn’t love people in room’s expression emotions. I also wrote some short fics - which aren’t even that short - but that felt good and it forced me to be more economical as I usually am.

Also, this year I learned the difference between ‘sitting’ and ‘sat’ and ‘stood’ and ‘standing’, although there is not guarantee on whether I use them correctly on the first attempt.

I really enjoyed the two women’s POV I got to do (incidentally, for both of the exchanges I signed up to this year), especially Ann Ross’.

Most surprising fic you wrote this year:

Uuuh, a threesome involving Sophia for the fitzier fic exchange. I never really considered doing an actual threesome despite thoughts because Who would be in it? Also so many limbs. And I had considered a Sophia pov, but not for this, and certainly not modern. But despite false starts, and periods of abject dejection, I got it done and I’m kinda proud of it.

How you grew as a writer this year:

I think my voices became clearer, my descriptions took on a snappiness. I took style risks and I think they mostly paid off. Also, first time I’ve taken ‘research’ trips for fics, but how can I noooot ships are so cool and so is Greenwich (who’s high-street has the best ice cream shop btw)

What’s coming in 2021:

WELL. There is only one WIP in my google doc’s rn. And it’s a present for my friend lobsterbang who threw the idea at me on a calculated whim and I grabbed it and overthought it, because then I could actually use my degree and the stuff I specialise in at work this year 😭. - Tozer/FJ, Romans.

What is planned from my bingo card;

Three scenes that might be in the Let the River Rush In universe.

Capetown, Dundy/FJ

Rossier, which could be one thing or another, I haven’t made up my mind yet.

Fics written this year:

There’s so many i’m so sorry

Fitzier;

you found me beautiful once (G) - a spooky drabble to go with art by @matt-j-freeman

sunset and evening star, and one clear call for me (M)( hinted Fitzier and past Rossier, and Gibson/Hickey). First chpt posted about this time last year, but was finished in February 2020, a colab with @lobsterbang about how we thought they would get home within the context and intentions of the show. Also Hickey is suuuper creepy and FJ gets to shoot rockets.

the snow grows from the ground up (M) - 5+1, FJ is jealous of Crozier until he isn’t.

and all I've done for want of wit (T) - James dies, and wanders through everyone else’s afterlife, waiting for his own to arrive.

the world will always smell of salt (M) - where, much like the real expedition, they are forced into cannibalism to survive (rated M cause it’s not graphic cannibalism but a dude still gets ate)

Oh, why would you weep, my friends, for me? (T) - the greatest tragedy of Francis’ life, coming to see him through the last day of his life. (wrote this in 24hrs and I am very proud of it)

gathering primroses series (M) - Trans Francis, FJ and Francis being comfortable with one another. The OG fic might be the best thing I wrote this year.

all the boards did shrink series (E) - pwp, FJ own’s a dildo, that’s all you need to know.

let the river rush in (E-T) get’s it’s own little bit. The last 8 (eight!) fic’s of the series were written this year. My baby. My cosy universe of Francis and James working out how to be the men who survived all that happened, all while navigating sexuality and gender and their own selves.

Fic’s go from; whatever stirs this mortal frame (E) - where James is in his corset and split seam knickers being fussy and bossy. TO it hangs like flax upon a distaff (M) - Crimean war erectile dysfunction (not a sentence I thought i’d ever type). And from lately i've been fine, floating away (E) in which Francis bottoms for the first time, TO the bit of me still at sea (M) - where James is posted to the Med fleet and Francis potters about without him, both unhappy to be parted but used to a sailors life. And a honourable mention to by the time you are Real (G) where FJ is highly relatable and finally starts processing 10 years after the Expedition.

For Fitzconte;

Way haul away... ,(M) series. in which Dundy belongs to a story that is very different from the one happening about him.

Clio Goes West (M)series, in which - they go swiming in Yemen, eat dates, and get one another off. The Basra Marshes are very beautiful and sticky, and so are they. And - Nebet attacks.

It isn’t much fun for one, but two (G)- the Dundy and Jas orign story.

For Rossier;

Oh, a nice watch below wouldn’t do us any arm.(M) - HMS Fury days, larking in the gunroom.

positive values of inclination (M) -handsomest man in the royal navy sucks dick to unwind and manages to be a nerd about it

For Fitzjames/Tozer (lobsterbang);

magnitude and definite direction (M) - James is a nerd and they misuse a jollyboat.

marriage, in the maltese style (M) - FJ is off home and is gonna have to behave himself. so says goodbye to Malta in the company of a obliging marine.

how prettily he foots it with his hands (M) - Mr Fitzjames stars as Queen Fadladinia, and gets quite a memorable standing ovation

Misc;

we've got one thing in common, its this tongue of yours (E) - Fitzier exchange, modern AU threesome with requested pegging.

and of their shadows deep (G) - Rossier exchange. Ann Ross pov (which I LOVED doing), her reaction to Francis’ disappearance, and reflection on her friendship with him.

I tag @norvegiae @laissezferre @junomarlowe @lobsterbang @clockheartedcrocodile if they would like to do it

#my fic #the terror #i speak #quemas

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letsperaltiago · 4 years

Note

hc about jake and amy early relationship going on tiny trips/vacations together to b&bs or hiking or stuff like that?

so this is just ‘their first trip’ so i hope that’s ok!

- for their first trip together as a couple, about 2 months into the relationship, jake and amy go on a roadtrip to spend the weekend in Boston

- they get off work early on friday and drive to boston in Amy’s (nicer) car. Jake gets them both coffee and muffins from that fancy coffee-place down the street for the trip. They spend the 4 hours (one bathroom stop included) talking about everything and nothing, having the other listen to their own favorite songs and jamming to common faves.

- they arrive at their nice, little b&b (credit to amy for research and booking) early evening, which means they have just enough time to shower (together🤭😏because they! can! do! that! now!!) before heading out for dinner. “now that we’re together we should probably share more showers and save water, yanno?” jake comments cockily right as they walk by the receptionist on their way out which makes amy blush and playfully punch his shoulder.

- since they’re both pretty tired they stick to taking a stroll to find pizza that they can eat back in their room and make a detour by the harbor on their way back to the b&b.

- While walking Jake sneaks some cute candid pictures of his girlfriend while she’s not looking because the sun is setting and she looks super pretty walking by the water, looking all glowy in the soft orange light. “what are you doing, peralta?” she questions him curiously upon catching him mid-picture and he blushes, embarrassed being caught. “you just-,” he stumbles over his own words because wow this is def his first time ever having to explain to a girl he really likes that she’s just super pretty and he wants all the dumb stuff being a couple comes with like taking pictures of each other so he can look at her whenever he wants and perhaps, one day when he knows she’s okay with it, use it it as his screensaver and to post on instagram. “i just thought you looked really nice so i’d take a picture. sorry if that was weird. i can totally delete-“ he starts to nervously ramble, nervously, but is interrupted when she grabs his phone from his hand. she kisses his cheek and takes a selfie of it. in that moment jake is sure he could potentially die of happiness. from that moment on pictures of amy, and him with amy crowd this phone.

- back in their room they get into comfy wear, eat pizza in bed (carefully as to not spill on the nice sheets, of course) and make plans for the upcoming day while the tv plays in the background. At some point during the evening Jake gets a notification on his phone which he curiously checks only to discover that it tells him Amy Santiago has tagged him in a picture on Instagram: the picture of her kissing his cheek by the harbor with the caption “Boston Harbor has some pretty good catches ❤️”. Jake smiles to himself feeling all giddy inside: social media is stupid, he knows, but this somehow makes them even more official.

- After eating and planning they cuddle in bed and watch “Hannibal”. Jake is on his back while Amy has an arm and leg slung across him with her head resting on his chest which is the perfect position for Jake to slide his hand further and further down her back until it comes to rest on her butt. “Maybe I should do like Hannibal and take a bite out of you?”. Amy halts for a second before looking up at him with a half amused half weirded out expression. “That was so bad, Jake,” she laughs but nevertheless leans in to kiss him before pulling back to meet him with dark eyes “But it somehow still worked.” The rest of the night is uhum *well spent*

- The next morning they sleep in which they’re not exactly used to so they really savour the waking up together, tangled up and naked from yesterdays shenanigans. Although at some point before 10 AM Amy does feel obligated to be the voice of reason which Jake does not exactly approve of. Next thing he knows Amy is under the covers and languid but nonetheless hella good morning s*x happens.

- They have a quick coffee for breakfast as Amy is dying to explore their planned museums and monuments. Jake doesn’t care much for that aspect of the trip, but if it means he gets to hang out with Amy and listen to her talk passionately about some tea party and a lot of other smart stuff then the pleasure is truly on his side.

- After 2 museums and monument-hunting for some time they have a nice lunch and then just walk around the city, exploring and enjoying each other’s company. At some point Amy tells him she has a surprised planned for him and minutes later they arrive at a bowling-alley. Jake goes nuts and they have the best time competing, betting that the loser has to put on a str*pte*se for the other that night.

- Amy is good at many things, probably at more things than Jake, but Jake wins this one and after a quite fancy dinner out, they head back to their B&B where she puts on a 10/10 str*pte*se followed by 10/10 foreplay and just… 10/10 night overall.

- On Sunday they get up a bit earlier and have an actual breakfast at a small local café, where Amy feels herself melt at the fact that Jake, without hesitation, knows her coffee-order. He just gets black coffee but he knows she likes hers with milk, preferably with vanilla syrup, just one pump, if available. With that they share a pile of, what they both agree is, “the best waffles they’ve ever had”. They spend the few remaining hours before departure sailing around in a swan boat which is so cliché but they both secretly love the romance of it and even it out with a lot of *sexy bantering*.

- Jake drivers them back to Brooklyn and lets Amy sleep. It’s almost hard saying goodbye when she drops him off at his place and they almost just skip town again right away. Later that night Jake posts a picture of Amy pointing at and obviously deep into talking about a painting at one of the museums they went to, which, on her side of town, makes Amy smile stupidly wide when she sees it on her phone and reads the caption saying: “Boston’s prettiest and smartest tour guide <3″

#hc

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theasteriae-arc · 3 years

Text

THE INTERVIEW.

( or, when sebastian met katherine. the discord thread between @epiitaphs & myself, feat. our muses squabbling over @diabolicaltendencies’ jim )

WHITEHALL, c. 2009.

Her heels make an impressive racket on the tiles, the sound of her footsteps echoing in the corridor like there’s an army of interrogators on their way to sink their teeth into him. Sebastian Moran. The slick haired, sharp tongued politician she had never liked—not even before she’d found out Jim was screwing him. It was just a shame that the thick carpet in his secretary’s office—in his office—muffled the quick ratatat of those stilettos. Her war cry. “No. Excuse me, madam, you can’t- Have you got an appointment? You can’t go in there without an appointment.” Kate ignored her and opened the door to Sebastian’s office. “My name is Katherine Conway,” she said crisply to the man behind the desk. “You’ll want to see me.” And without waiting to be invited, she took a seat across from him, putting her handbag down, and folding her hands expectantly in her lap.

Sebastian is, as always, busy. Everything's manageable at the moment - neither the country nor the party are falling into the abyss, but that doesn’t mean that he's got time to rest. There’s people and policy to keep up to date on, and he can't afford to ever fall behind. Which is why he makes sure to keep a couple steps ahead of where everyone’s supposed to be. It's what got him through school and through the first years of his job. It's also what keeps him at the office late, though that's decreased over time now that Jim's around. Much more appealing to be able to come home to someone and not just the cats. There was a commotion outside, Sebastian looking up from his work just as the door opened. “An interesting opening statement, Katherine Conway,” he replied. The name seemed familiar but not enough to be someone he kept active tabs on. “Will I?” It seemed very much like he would, given that she had clearly decided to make herself home. A nod at the secretary in the doorway and the door was shut. “In that case, I suppose I'd like to know just what it is that you think is so important to require an urgent, unscheduled meeting. My time is valuable and I have later meetings, so brief is best.”

“Cancel them. I’m here to talk about James, and knowing him, that could well take all night.”

And wouldn’t he just love that? There was a bitter twist to her lips as she continued, “He called me last weekend, told me about the two of you. How serious would you say it was?” He had a pot of pens on his desk, sleek and black with shiny gold hooks so that he could slip one into his pocket without fear of it falling out. She reached forward to take one, testing its weight in her hand, twirling it in between her fingers. “Serious enough for him to call, I suppose. But not serious enough for him to have told you everything, am I right? Didn’t want you to run a background check on him?” Her free hand disappeared into her pocket and came out with a card. Katherine Conway, Named Partner at Conway O’Kelly, an all-female chambers in Dublin. There had been a glint of recognition in his eyes when he’d repeated her name back to her and she was sure this was why; he knew of her work, not her history with his boyfriend. She’d enjoy telling him then. “Well, let me clear up some of the confusion. I used to be his girlfriend. And he wants to introduce you to the daughter we share. So, I wanted to meet you first, to make sure I was happy with that. Politicians, you know, they’re not the most trustworthy people.”

“James, you say? That sounds rather serious.” He made no move to cancel the meetings. He was fairly certain the first one could go on without him, though he’d miss out. But they'd cross that bridge if they came to it. If this was about Jim, he'd rather hear what she had to say, but he didn't intend to be pushed into any particular action. Jim had called her? What could he possibly be up to? “Quite serious, I’d say. I assume you read the news.” If she wanted details, she could refer to that. He watched as she took a pen, wondering just what her intentions where, what her connections to Jim might be. Sebastian didn't indicate an answer one way or another to the first question. “He’s told me more than enough and I have respected his privacy when asked to do so.” Jim’s privacy. Not that of others, but that wasn't something he was going to admit to. Not when she'd given him one small fact - that Jim had called. Fact 2: Sebastian hadn't known. Fact 3: Sebastian didn't know everything.

She pulled out her card - as if that would give him much more information. It’d give him information that he could find, which was exactly what this meeting was not about. This meeting was about gaps in knowledge and Sebastian hated being on the wrong side of that. She was more than simply her job and title - if she knew Jim, that is. “Thank you for the clarification. It's much appreciated.” The thin smile on his face suggested otherwise. That she was the mother was a surprise, but she didn't have to know that. “I’d be happy to meet his child, should I pass inspection.” That information hadn't been as much from Jim. “Some might say the same for your profession. I’d know - did you look into me at all?” He really hoped so, or he'd be sincerely disappointed. She'd shown initiative so far and it'd be unfortunate if that ended up being a false lead. Time for a little bit more of a gamble. “He did mention you, by the way. As a detail. Youthful mistakes, you know.”

Nothing about her expression, her demeanour, changed. She didn’t miss a breath or move a muscle. Not quite relaxed, because from her posture it was clear that she meant business, but authoritative. Refusing to be riled. Did you look into me at all? Ha. She wanted to scoff—the Dubliner in her who’d grown up in the wrong part of the city wanted to spit—but she didn’t. Instead, she smiled. “Of course. Sebastian Moran, graduated top of his class from Magdalen College, Oxford. Fast tracked into politics, no doubt helped by his Daddy, who’s the Labour Whip in the House of Lords. Sebastian Moran who dislocated his shoulder climbing up the drainpipe of his family home during a scrap with a sibling.” The information about Oxford and his father, she could have got from anywhere. The more personal details, though, they’re not such common knowledge. She could feel his eyes scanning her face, trying to determine her source. “Your sister told me. Moira. Well, obviously. Alex doesn’t talk, does she?” Kate’s smile grew wider, more pointed. “Still managing to cause a lot of trouble up in Manchester though, I hear. Moira and I work the same cases occasionally—opposite sides, of course, but it’s always good to have a glass of wine and catch up. I’d heard rumours about you and James and she all but confirmed them, but he’s never been one for commitment, so.” The comment about her being a mistake more than stung, but she couldn’t let herself lose her cool just yet. She brushed the hair out of her eyes and looked at his steadfastly across the wide expanse of his desk. “You’ll understand if I don’t want my family being dragged into the centre of a political scandal just for the sake of some fling?”

She didn't react, which told him only so much. Either it could be that neither of his hits had landed or that some of them had - and he wasn’t going to be able to tell which ones until she’d started on the offensive again. He didn't like her, but he had to admit she had at least done her research. Plenty of it, it seemed, given the much more personal anecdote tacked on the end. “A good summary of my CV. I’d keep the assumptions to a minimum, if I were you, though. I have an entirely different constituency from him - no handover there. Speaks just a little bit to his position on merit, wouldn't you say?” It was a blow that set him off each time he heard it, but Sebastian wasn't going to reveal weakness. “It's hardly surprising that it'd be easy to find inspiration in his work.”

An eyebrow raised as he stared, wondering just who she might have had access to - ah. Moira. Of course. No family loyalty - he should have known. They'd have to talk about that next time he saw her. In all, the story wasn't too damning, as long as no one looked too closely at how old he'd been at the time. The fact that Moira somehow approved of Conway was both a red flag and a promise that this would be interesting, no matter the way it turned out. “Oh, no, Alex simply has better judgement of who she speaks to.” The jab at Alex was another blow that landed. Conway really had done her research. A smile. “You know, given how close she and Jim are?” Just how far he’d gone since leaving Kate. He wouldn’t give her information that she didn't deserve - that Jim had been committed for far longer than the press knew. “I think he can be, with the right person. Maybe you didn't have enough faith.” The personal angle seemed a far richer vein for now. “I understand perfectly, though really it's up to you - when have I ever been implicated in a scandal, after all? It’d be awful to lose the reputation you've made, wouldn’t it? And I'm sure the scrutiny on the rest of your family would be uncomfortable as well.” It wasn't an outright threat. “All the same, I do understand the value placed on family - did Moira neglect to tell you about the times I've looked after her children?”

“I have plenty of faith, thank you. Actually, I found it was his that was lacking.” Tucked beneath the sharp collar of the severe white shirt ( court clothes; really, she should be at the hotel, prepping her closing statement for tomorrow ) was the battered gold crucifix her parents had given her for her First Communion. Her fingers tighten around one another in her lap so they don’t fly up to fiddle with it. No clues. “And reminding me about his lifestyle choices—" As if that was necessary. “—Won’t help you make your case, Mr. Moran.” Once upon a time, it had been James’s lack of conventionality that she had loved, the fact that he wore leather and make up and made her mother spit with fury whenever she saw them together. When had that changed? When she’d found out she was pregnant and the father of her child had fucked off to England, leaving her unmarried and in trouble and—

Kate took a deep breath to calm herself, recentre her thoughts, and continued. “I’m sure you’re a fine babysitter,” she said stiffly. “But this is different. And the fact that you can sit there and threaten my family tells me everything I need to know. Unless you have anything else to add, this interview is over.” She pocketed his pen and bent down to retrieve her bag, getting back on her feet before she said, “You can give James my answer, and that is if he ever brings up introducing her to you—or attempts to do it behind my back—I shan’t let him anywhere near her again. We can take it to the courts if we have to; we all know who’s going to win.”

“A strong judgment, I'd say.” Perhaps not entirely unfair, depending on what sort of faith they were discussing, but still. “No, I suppose it wouldn’t. But one of my sisters is willing to avoid gossip about the family, and it’s not the one you’re friends with.” He’d really have to talk to Moira about tattling like that. It was annoying, more than anything, but all the same. She took a breath and - clearly, he’d set her off with one his remarks - this wasn't really how he'd wanted this to go. “I don't see how it's different. In fact, I'd say it's even more low risk than babysitting, given that all Jim has asked of you is an introduction.” He considered asking for his pen back. With her standing, ready to go, he’d have to take this seriously - more seriously than before. He might have told her not to be so sure about the outcome, but that would drive the wedge further between them. For Jim’s sake, he shouldn’t.

“I know the statistics of custody awards, Miss Conway. There is no need to threaten.” Really, there was no need to resort to outright threats. “You do realize a court case would bring exactly the sort of eyes you’d like to avoid?" He stood as well, finally. “I appreciate how much you're willing to do to protect your family and I won't tell you how to do so, but I do think it incredibly unfair of you to not tell him your decision yourself. Not because I don't want to be the bearer of bad news, but because he - maturely - asked you for permission to do the barest minimum of actions and you're making assumptions based on a five minute interview that you began with no pretensions of civility.” She’d come in on the offensive and he’d replied in kind. "You don't have to like me - I hardly expect you would, but that doesn't seem like just grounds to punish Jim. Or your daughter, really, who I believe is old enough to ask questions. If I find that you've ever actually prevented him from seeing her because of me, then I really will take issue." Maybe a bit of a threat.

“Mrs.” She paused with her bag over her arm, glowering down at him until her got his feet, and then, even in heels, she was forced to look up. “I don't know what kind of woman you think I am, sir, but I'm not a single one, that's for sure. I've been married eleven years next month.” For their anniversary the year before, she and Richard had hoped to go to Italy. Perhaps this year, if they could find someone to mind the children for a long weekend, they'd actually make it to the art galleries in Florence, the catacombs under Rome. Maybe if Jim could take them ... There was no one else she trusted, but could she even trust him anymore? “You said you were short on time and I believe in getting straight to the point, so please forgive me if I didn't pause to make small talk; we're busy people and there's not a whole lot to say. I don't like to be threatened and that’s twice in five minutes you've threatened me and my family. I don't like you, and your attitude certainly isn't helping. How long have you and James been together?”

“Mrs. Conway, then.” They were past pretending to polite, but he might as well be correct. "Yes, that is what the records say, isn't it." Seb hadn't looked into Jim, but he had done some digging. Just to see what he could find. He'd looked less at her, still trying to keep from directly disobeying Jim's wishes, but the brother had been an opportunity. “I did, didn't I. It's still true, but at the same time you did say it could take a while. You seemed less bothered by time limits at the beginning of this.” Which meant most likely that he'd offended her. Which he'd been trying to do, to be fair. “Neither of those were direct threats, Mrs. Conway, but neither of us have time to argue semantics. You rudely marched in here, implied that I was courting scandal and have since mentioned cutting Jim off from his daughter as well as the possibility to take all of this to court. You're hardly innocent.”

Here was the choice. They were at the rumor stage of the plan. Technically they'd been more or less together for a year by now, but no one else knew that. “You said you read the news - if they're to be believed, then I think you have your answer - that it all came together after his track.” A breadcrumb. “Moira would perhaps tell you that over a year ago, I was in charge of driving him to and from one of our family's gatherings.” And another breadcrumb dropped. If she wanted to pick them up, follow the trail, she could. Everything he'd said was true in its own way. The interpretation was up to her.

One of Kate's eyebrows went up. “If all I was interested in was second-hand gossip and the suppositions of the press,” she said coolly. “Do you think I'd be here? No. So, it doesn't take an Oxford-educated intellect to infer that what I would like to hear is the truth, straight from the horse's mouth, as it were. An alien concept to you maybe, but I’ll wait if I have to.” And so saying, she slipped out of her coat and sat back down, making a show of settling in for a long stalemate. “How did a politician and a musician who has publicly lambasted him on more than one occasion become a serious item?” Her tone was cold, but she was genuinely curious. Not so much in the how, though, more the, why this man, James? What the hell does someone like you see in him?

That had gotten her back, at least. Sebastian sat as well. “I haven’t lied to you, Mrs Conway,” he replied. He had perhaps misrepresented the truth, omitted, assumed, but he hadn't outright lied just yet. And sure, he'd threatened too, but only vaguely. “And did you ask Jim for the truth?” That was - though perhaps a bit of an attack - mostly just curiosity. “Or is he next? Making sure we can't coordinate our stories?” That was an unfair accusation, but he saw no reason to play fair with her. He shrugged, seemingly relaxed. “Maybe it's the public lambasting that makes it fun,” he replied, trying to think of just what he could or should tell her. She didn't deserve the details of their relationship - certainly no more than the general public did. “As much as it may shock you, we get along well. I think we represent a bit of a challenge to each other, and that's what keeps things interesting.”

TO BE CONTINUED ...

#epiitaphs #( i. drabble )#( i. save )#kate. | muse #the sun will come shining through. | happy verse ( musicians )#( iv. kate & sebastian )

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mordigen · 3 years

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I had not written anything in a minute, as I typically use this as my sounding board, or soap box, if you will....but I guess things just hadn't gotten under my skin lately to make me feel the need to sound off. Which is a beautiful thing, I suppose, even if writing is lacking.

Indeed it has been quite....quiet, quite harmonious within the circles I frequent. Which is unusual, especially as we've had a couple Holidays, which usually stirs all the controversy. And I know with my last 3 part post I noted I had much more to talk about....but I've forgotten them all. So, they must not have been that important, eh?

It has been nice.

But (as there's always a but) in this quiet time I noticed something else - something I am certainly not unfamiliar with, but have never talked about, or confronted at all really.

I find myself feeling drawn away - and no, not in the depressive sense, as I am also certainly not unfamiliar with, but in a way that I have a hard time defining.

It is melancholy in the sense that it feels like a deep seated yearning - but not in a bad way, by any means, as I feel like if those yearnings didn't come and go over time, then I wouldn't be wholly myself. They are a part of me - they are not a bad thing, even if bittersweet.

They ebb and flow, and sometimes recede completely - at other times consume me completely. Though they usually hit me without warning, they start gradually and I can feel the oncoming tide. And once they've run their course, they recede just as swiftly, and gently, as they've rushed upon me.

It has happened for as long as I can, lucidly, remember. Though putting an exact date or age to it is difficult, as childhood memories tend to mesh and bleed together over the years, it can easily be said adolescence, at least, so it has been quite some time. But I still haven't ever gotten used to them, or have figured out how to cope with them - mentally or emotionally, anyhow. They do not prevent me from functioning or living my life, but they do wreck my mental state in a way. Though, I'm not sure I want to figure out how to cope with that...

I have been told by various people, at various points in my life, that I suffer from various forms of a disassociative disorder. Knowing I have depression issues I have investigated....but, No. Just no - it's not right. In all the many ones I have done ample research in, it's just not right - that is not me, that is not what I am experiencing. That is not what is happening, the "symptoms", even if some appear similar superficially, are all wrong.

When I say I feel drawn away, I do not mean I feel *detached*. That is a very big distinction - I'm feeling pulled away, to somewhere or something else, I do not feel disconnected. You can feel a connection to multiple things at once - so to be pulled into a something or somewhere else doesn't mean I have to detach, or "disassociate" with the here and now. I don't. Perhaps it is a foreign thing to try to describe to someone who has never experienced it before, and yes it is a hard to find the right words to begin with to really explain it in depth - but it's not that I "disassociate". Stop calling it that.

It is this very reason why I have never talked about it in depth at all, because even the slightest mention of anything puts others on high-alert. I know they are only trying to help, but no - you are not listening, you are not understanding. The best, and simplest, way I can recount it is like prioritizing. This thing - it's always there. It's always in me, and sometimes it just needs it's time. It doesn't even come first, as I still put all the needs and wants and important bits of this finite world first and foremost, but it needs its time in the sun, too.

As a child, they would say I was "dreamy" or just had an active imagination - I would day dream frequently, locked up inside my own head. Though I loved to play, and read, and write, and draw, I didn't need those things to enjoy my time. I could lay around for hours, in my own thoughts, completely happy and content, drawn away, off on an adventure, listening to the silent things whisper when they think no one is listening. I would doze and nap, and sleep extra long through the night - not because I was bored, or tired, but just because it gave me time in my own head - in my 'dreamland', where all these other things happened that wouldn't - or couldn't - in the waking world. As a young child, these were always described as good things....as a teen, it's often described as having your "head in the clouds" - something that is not necessarily good or bad, potentially problematic if left unchecked, but still nonetheless endearing. But as an adult? Phh. Well. Something must be wrong with you.

You're expected to grow out of it, but I find in adulthood it hits harder, and comes heavier, than ever as a child. Possibly because as children we're given room to indulge...it's creative, imaginative, learning to be content with your own company is touted as idealistic means of coping skills and personal growth - until it isn't.

For an extended time of my adult years I was wrongfully persuaded that it was hormonal as others had noted I tended to feel this 'drawing' around my cycle. I do get more emotional, and boy does the fatigue hit hard - but that still didn't make sense to me as it didn't happen *every* time on my cycle, and there were plenty of times it happened not on my cycle at all. Well, it doesn't have to happen everytime for it to be related, and hormones fluctuate throughout the whole month, so you don't have to actually be physically bleeding for it to be cycle related. What a cop out. With that logic, anything and everything under the sun and moon can be "cycle related". Bonus points deducted for the fact that every person telling me this was also, in fact, a woman. Shame. Lazy medicine right there. Lazy womanhood right there. And that's not even a feminist statement - that's just a common sense statement. Oh, so is every possible problem you ever have because of your period, M'AM ? So stupid. Stupider, yet, is that I listened to them. But I did, and I followed their suggestions - none of them worked, but with each new wave I would think the next would be better and easier if I just stayed the course - ignoring the fact that nothing was inherently wrong, and that this was only deemed an "issue" as it was categorized as "abnormal" and therefore must be fixed.

What I have come to realize now is that all those incidents - people wanting to categorize me with mental disorders, emotional disorders, or hormonal imbalances - call came at I time when I was, in fact, disconnected with something : my spirituality. I didn't have any type of falling out, or disillusioned from anything I ever believed in. Life just simply got in the way, I had more important things to worry about and do, and much less time to do them all in, so you just let certain things go that are not as pressing. Looking back at it now, I think maybe that is why they pulled on me harder in those years. Perhaps it was something drawing back in... I'd like to believe so, anyhow. And that's why I was stupid enough to believe doctors, and counselors, about stupid things I knew were not right - because I wasn't listening to the other half. And of course, nothing the ever suggested ever made one bit of difference - because it's not what was happening to me. And truthfully, because nothing was ever wrong.

As life started to level out, I slowly started doing little things here and there with my beliefs, with my workings. Little things, but baby steps, right? You can't just get off the couch and run a marathon - you have to warm up those muscles, start exercising those parts that have atrophied, and retraining your skills. Same applies - baby steps. It grew slowly over a few years - the tidal waves kept their course, as they do, and I just sort of accepted it at face value. But then the pandemic hit, and the world shut down. And boy, did I have all the time in the world.....and I used it.

Over this last year what I have come to realize is that, firstly - I was absolutely not alone. But also that I wasn't really paying as much attention as I thought I was - or my attention was skewed , by 'professionals', to focus on the wrong things. There was much more a pattern than I had ever noticed. These waves didn't come out of nowhere - though once they were on me, I could feel the gradual build - but before they ever even tickled my feet there were signs, there were patterns. I'd have days of restless nights, strange dreams, then it would fold into die-hard sleep, with absolutely no dreams at all - but waking as if I hadn't slept a wink and had been working all through the night. I'd wake with aches and strains, sometimes even bruises. We'd joke that our mattress was beating us up at night - we even forked out decent money for a brand new one. It's fabulous, and it solved zero of my problems, though my husband now sleeps like a baby...

It's only after these restless, exhausting nights does the tide start to flow back in, and the dreamy, dozey longing set in. The ache for something I cannot put my finger on, and the willingness to relent and let it take me away, even for just a time, and indulge in that pulling out to sea. I let it take me now - I do not fight it, I do not endure it, I let it take me and draw me out. And this is what so many professionals call "disassociating" - but that's not right. That's not what's happening.

And this is not some great spiritual come to Jeesus moment I am preaching to any of you, or certainly not meaning to be, but just the simplicity of paying attention. We, as pagans, just have the driven, inherent understansung that there are many more forces, and much more out there than what you see on the surface. And I had forgotten. Though I've kept my mouth shut, I've taken note when the topics and discussions come up - tons of people were in my very shoes. But they had been paying attention all along. I had forgotten. Some of the stories thrown out there I can't always get behind. Some of them are just flat out - No. But there were many more that weren't - they talked of the moon. The conjunctions. Astral travel. Being spirited away in the night. The veils. The Oran Mór. I was so stupid, I had been so blind.

And then, this year of much more laxed time gave me the opportunity to actually listen. These tides... their pattern.

The restless nights always came with the moons - these tides, they always came around significant dates....days when the veils are thinning. And now, as I feel the sweeping tides begin to pull again - here we are. Bealtaine is on the horizon. And as I wrack my memories.... every time.

Every. Time.

What is happening to me exactly? I still do not know - is this the call of the Oran Mór? Are the veils pulling at something deep inside me? Are the Fae trying to steal me away, as so many are quick to warn... Is there danger in letting the tides take me? Is this some deeper part of me being drawn home, trying to jar me to pay closer attention to things I have left forgotten? Something in there makes me think of my brothers...

I don't know all these answers, but I can't ignore them now that I've taken the time to listen. What I do know is that, whatever they may be - I don't want these tides to leave me. And believing that doesn't give me a dissociative disorder.

#pagan #truth #madd mordi #mordigen #ethereal #mordi #veils #thinning veils #holidays #astral #mental health #pagan awareness #spirited away #spirituality #being pagan isn't a mental condition #spiritual beliefs aren't a mental disorder

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savysavannah · 3 years

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Practice Challenge One part Two

Special thanks to: @eaton-schreave and @s-morgan

Men have been paying more attention to me lately. Not that they didn't much before, I am a woman after all they're fairly predictable on that front. But what I wasn't expecting was how aggressive they'd be once I became something they knew they couldn't have.

I tried to continue living on as if nothing happened. Wake up, go to work, work through lunch (you can't let the papparazzi see you with mayo on your cheek again), take a break and call Angelic who works at the palace and has been my personal helper through this transition, beg my boss to let me work through the selection, "I can just go to court virtually!", skip dinner, drive home, make sure no one is following me, they still haven't found out where I live at least, pop open a bottle of gin, then research this bitch who I had to somehow, for the sake of my own ass, not murder.

The office is on floor 10 of the 20 floor building I work in. I park in the parking lot, thankfully the paparazzi can't follow me there as you have to scan in. I walked up to the elevator and pressed the button. Just as the doors closed a larger man ran up and blocked it with his hand. He was around 6’4 and towered over me, he stood a little too close and I clutched my purse to take the anxiety out.

I watched the numbers go up as we rode but felt him watching me. His pinky finger rubbed against my thigh fiddling with the hem of my pencil skirt. He couldn’t do anything to me, not with who I now was, not in a moving elevator. I tried to remember to breathe as we hit floor eight and leaned to the side to avoid him which he leaned closer in response. Finally we stopped at floor ten and I got off. Thankfully, he didn’t follow.

I tried to put the moment out of my mind while I worked. It wasn’t the first time something like that had happened, but it was the first time that I was completely and utterly alone. I clicked the B key of my laptop over and over trying to get my brain to pump out something. Some kind of work. But all I got in response was the distracting thoughts of what to do next time.

At lunch I stared at the elevator. I had to take either the stairs or the elevator. If I took the elevator I'd be stuck in the same situation. If I took the stairs I'd be alone in a dark area for longer. I pressed the button and watched my watch as I waited.

I was thankfully alone as it lowered to the ground. I was able to breathe and let my mind debate over if I should go to the sandwich place near work or drive home and eat leftovers. Going with the sandwich I started to walk down the block.

“Daniel will you get off that stupid device and pass your sister the peas.” Mother ordered as we all sat at the table of our parents estate. Our weekly dinners were normally a lively event, but tonight was the first night before I left. Daniel and I still hadn’t made up since his plan for vengeance against someone who had not harmed him had succeeded.

I’d tried to make the best of the situation, research some ounce of goodness in the Prince, but all I found were articles of his outrageous college behavior. Dan had been assuring me that once I was eliminated I would have a sea of men to pick from and would be happily married to a two or upper class three, I could quit work and be a simple housewife like his Marina, this outraged me further and caused a fight. My goal in life is not to be a wife but to work and be content with my work. Danny was the only one who could actually provide any solace reminding me that it would just be for a few weeks, possibly less, then I’d be back to work just as before. Eventually, people would forget I was ever someone to know and I could return to my life.

Just as we finished dinner the doorbell rang, though there was quickly a rattling of the knob and a busting in before the help could get to the door. Grandmother came in with large pink bags, which I believed to be for me. Soon after I learned that they were filled with all kinds of masks. Masks for face, masks for hair, hands, feet. Apparently, being on TV meant my skin had to be extremely soft.

Grandmother is the current head of the Mars candy corporation. Next in line is my Uncle Dennis, then my cousins, then uncle Ricky. Hopefully though it won’t come down to Ricky. Ricky blew all his money before he could trap a wife, he’s still a two as grandmother keeps him afloat, but barely. One day he’ll probably be caught with some kind of drug, he’ll be dropped to an eight, it’ll be a shame that could have been prevented had the lawyer in the family not been a stuck up bitch. I’m just tired of working for free on a man who will never change, and doesn’t deserve the luxury. But God forbid I charge family.

The morning of the flight I wasn’t nervous at all. I said my goodbyes to my boss, let her know I’d be available on my phone or through email if she needed anything, locked up my home, and headed to the formal goodbye where I’d meet up with my family. There was a surprising amount of pride in the province for me being selected. I had read an article about how it seemed I would be destined to be the perfect fit for Queen. I already worked in helping those of Illea through complex laws and policies, I was well educated, from a wealthy family but not a literal two. I was the perfect mold and the pride of Labrador. There were other provinces which had an eight selected that were not quite as cheerful. In the quiet of the airport I was finally able to say my goodbyes. Mother told me to remember to not be too closed off, Father told me to be careful, Danny told me to tough it out but give it an honest try; “He may not be terrible, don’t deny yourself happiness.” Some nonsense like that.

Dan congratulated me on the opportunity, and Daniel stood quietly trying to avoid eye contact. I was still mad at him. What he did was unforgivable. But we couldn’t leave like this. I hugged him tightly and boarded the plane.

The day was a blur, a blur of useless lessons, a blur of mild appearance changes, girls who were possibly friends, possibly enemies, possibly annoying. It was late into the evening by the time I got to my room. My maids, Florence, Abigail, and Eimear seemed eager to be serving possibly ‘the future queen of illea’ and I was eager for a moment to myself. I dismissed them for the night to unpack on my own.

I’d snuck a few pairs of my own tailored dress pants in, my laptop, phone, a notebook, a few books, and a family photo. Soon enough the room was a strangers room with sprinkles of me throughout. Once I sat down at my laptop I realized it was already getting fairly late. I changed into a silk nightgown, closed my laptop and tried to sleep.

As I slept I thought of the footsteps around me, everything felt so loud, a screaming echo that I was in the very last place I ever wanted to be. After a while of tossing and turning I finally stood and walked to the wine cellar. We had been told to make ourselves at home afterall. As I walked back to my room I bumped into a stranger.

After a moment of shock and regaining my grip on the bottle of wine I looked up to see Prince Eaton. He was known to be more sane than his brother, so I was thankful for at least that. “Oh! I'm sorry, Prince Eaton.” I spoke and gave a small curtsy.

He looks down at the bottle and myself with a bit of a furrowed brow “You don't need to apologize.”

He pauses for a moment and gives a friendly smile, “And you don't need to curtsy, either. Lady Savannah, is that right?” It’s a bit astonishing he’d both remember my name and recognize it as mine upon seeing me. If I were in his place I’m not sure I could.

I sighed a bit in relief please I wouldn’t be getting yelled at for my carelessness this evening, “Yes. Just Savannah is fine, or Ms. Mars if you insist on formality. Though, the apology is still warranted considering I should have been watching where I was going. At little out of it, first night and all.” I lifted the bottle as the first night related to the bottle.

He gave a deadpan joke and I was fortunate then that I am competent in people reading. It may have been awkward if his "I'm not sure wine will help you remember the palace geography.”

“Well, the goal is to drink it once I return to my room. That or the courtyard since it is pretty out tonight. Though, you do make an excellent point that the wine combined with being in an unfamiliar location could have negative consequences.” For a moment I paused. It may not be a horrible idea to make the acquaintance of someone here.

“Care to have a glass with me? Splitting it and being with someone who knows the 'geography' well may decrease the negatives.” I offered.

“Interesting that you don't drink though. I'd heard you were more....sober, than your brother but it's noted to the extent. *kinda blushes* not that I was researching you or anything, it's just difficult to not hear things when you both went to my undergrad and you're a prince. Kinda a common conversation topic.”

He stood a bit straighter and eyed the bottle, “I do not drink.” After a moment passed he then cleared his throat, the tone of his statement before must have hit him, “However I can keep you company if you want to.”

I stifled a laugh at him clearing his throat not trying to be rude but finding his realization funny, “Great then. You can be my guide then for the evening.”

he seemed embarrassed and put his hands in his jean pockets, “I'm afraid this kind of thing comes along with the title...“ he took a hand out of his pocket, making a motion like ‘shall we go?’

“So you went to the University of Labrador?”

“yup. Go Labs *kinda mumbles for a moment* I wasn't really there for long. We started the same year I think, which I don't really remember much of. I was kinda a different person then. Then I graduated in 2 years and went to Yale law so all in all not a whole lot of time there. But I am from Labrador and my family home is near the campus so I know the area pretty well.”

he had a very small smile “And I showed off to my brother for graduating in three years. Labrador is a beautiful province, though. I miss it.”

“Well, I'm sure you had more to do than me. I'm not some kinda royal so I just got to spend all my time working on getting credits. It is pretty though, I already miss it. Not that Angeles isn't. My mom's family lives here so I've been here a few times, but it's just not Labrador.”

“I agree, but I've come to realize Angeles is full of little gems. You just need to find them. Hopefully you'll be able to get out of the palace to see it for yourself.”

I chuckled a bit at my situation, “Well, I don't imagine I'll be here very long so maybe I'll have a little Angeles vacation”

he raised his eyebrows, “I know... My brother's reputation. But I think he's trying to take this seriously.” He paused for a moment, “Or as seriously as he can take anything.” It was a bit shocking to hear him say that. He seemed like a sensible person, any sensible person would be unlikely to defend the Prince. Though, he was also his brother, perhaps there's a familial bias.

“Mhm.” I nodded then picked the conversation back up, “well, only time will tell. Hopefully for the sake of the country what's been said about him the last few years are baseless rumours” I sighed a bit thinking about which floozy of a wife will be our future Queen. The floozy and the fuckboy, what leaders.

Prince Eaton clenched his jaw, “Media is prone to exaggeration.” but did not deny what had been said.

He was being nice by walking with me so I decided to spare him a grilling and change the topic, “I'm sure. So how do you feel with the whole uh, 35 girls in your house situation?” Great now I sound like an interviewer.

We reached an access to the gardens and he opened a French window for me, “My space is always invaded, it's nothing worse than usual.” He said with a failed attempt at a smile. I assume he isn’t looking for pity but it’s difficult to not be pitying over such an attempt.

“That's fair I guess. Surprised you stayed though. Had my brother decided to have a bunch of ladies in our home, privacy be damned I don't wanna be around that mess.” I joked.

He snorted and seemed surprised at himself, “I was supposed to avoid it with a world tour. But things took another turn and now work won't get done alone.”

“World tour sounds a lot more fun. Postponed or cancelled?”

He gave his first genuine smile of the night, “Already done, actually. I came back a couple months ago.”

“Where did you go? Since I assume a world tour isn't literal?”

“Oceania, South Asia, Central Africa, and Europe.” He gave a small wistful sigh. I’d be wistful too if I had been all over there.

“That's very worldly. I've only been to France and Germany. Did you have a favorite visit?”

He didn’t hesitate for a moment, “New Zealand and Scandinavia. What about you though? Did you enjoy your visits?”

The question caught me off guard so I took a moment trying to remember them, “they were alright. Quite a long time ago though. We only went to stay with my Uncle in France since he runs the part of my family's company in France and then we went to Germany because we were there so we may as well head there. Mostly it was just sitting with my brothers at a hotel while my parents went off or my grandma playing dress up with eight year old me”

“Oh. Do you regret not getting to see more of those places?” He said and looked to a bench we were approaching, but more with a thoughtful consideration than a directional goal.

“A bit. It would have been nice to go out but they were more business trips than anything else. Maybe I'll go again at some point on my own if I have the free time.” I let us pass the bench, I’d been sitting far too much today with all the lessons and makeovers.

“Sometimes you have to give yourself the time or you'll never do certain things.”

“Logically I agree. But emotionally.....it's difficult to step back to work when my work directly impacts horrific moments of people's lives. Like if I were to go see a movie and my phone off, a client could be arrested and their treatment and time in jail without being able to contact their legal representation would be on my hands.”

He nodded slowly, “I can understand that. It gets hard to stop when people's lives are on the line.”

I sighed, trying not to get too revealing over my reasons for being here, afterall telling a stranger- regardless of him being a prince, that my brother had forged my application would be dumb, “I don't even really want to be wasting time here. But it is what it is. Trying to view this as a forced vacation. At least there are pretty flowers and good wine.”

He furrowed his brows, “Is there a way we could keep you working, from here? I guess you couldn't do much, but a little is better than nothing.”

I sighed, “Yeah I tried. I work for the ICLU so I asked if I could just stay in contact with clients and work from a far. But I wouldn't be able to make any proper court appearances and they wouldn't want someone just thrown on for court so it made more sense to just give me paid vacation. They were pretty proud anyways since apparently it's an honor to be selected for this reboot reality TV bachelor show.”

He pursed his lips, “I'm sorry you don't get to keep working. But they're not wrong. You being selected does give visibility to your organisation.”

I stopped for a moment, completely caught off guard by the comment, “That is true I hadn't thought of that. It's a non-profit so I hope donations may increase from me being here.” I dug into the oversized pockets of my nightgown and grabbed a pen, always best to keep a pen in the pocket, then scribbled on my hand, “reminder to think of ways to bring up iclu during this.” I explained.

He laughed through his nose and smiled, “See, a couple things might come out of your forced vacation.”

I chuckled a bit, “You're a smartass, and I mean that as a compliment. I can tell already which makes me feel much better about Prince Damian being in charge next.” I sighed content for a moment then remembered I was supposed to be making conversation, “So, you know I'm a nut for my work, what are you passionate about?”

He shrugged and looked around as if the gardens would save him, “My work.”

I smiled wondering a bit why that would be something to be ashamed of, “I get that. But do you have a specific part? I mean I'm sure you do a lot. So do you ever wake up and you're like 'man I get to do blank today!" Like for me it's court days because I love the theatrics of it.” I smiled a bit remembering the fun of cross.

The question seemed too intimate for him as he tucked his hands in his pockets, “I guess I like working on projects. I mean, when the planning part of it.”

“Projects are fun. I hated them when I was in high school. I was very much so not the nerd I am today.” I tried to avoid going too deep into the projects conversation, not wanting to make him more uncomfortable.

He raised a brow at the comment of my past, “I understand why people can find them boring, though.” Thankfully he didn’t press further on the past.

“Yeah I was more of a push off project till the last minute and party with my friends type for a while. Now I kinda wish I could have them again, it'd probably be fun to analyse how the flaws of Gregory Illea still impact us from a historical perspective.”

He snorted and shook his head, “It's more nerve-wracking than fun, in my opinion.”

“Well yeah, but if you can identify the flaws you can work to fix them and the research is fun so overall, more fun.”

He looked up at the stars as he thought, “I don't know... Not all of it is fixable. Not that easily at least.”

I thought as well for a moment, the country had been in a bit of unrest for awhile now. He was probably thinking of that, “Well, just because it isn't easy isn't any reason to not be excited about it. The accomplishment of fixing something difficult is arguable even better.” I tried to reason.

He stayed thoughtful, and looked down at me, “I see your points. But sometimes I think our ancestors just put us in a situation we'll never fully get out of.”

“That's a very cynical outlook and I disagree. It isn't logical to assume that just because a way hasn't been thought up yet that there can be a way out of a problem.” I said and smiled up at him.

“Maybe it's cynical, but what I see is history repeating itself.” He looked up again, “It doesn't mean I think things aren't worth fighting for, though. But magical solutions don't exist.”

“I agree. Solutions often require a lot of work and even then are often not perfect. But to never fully get out of seems too far cynical for me to believe.”

He looked down at me curiously, “You're more optimistic than you appear to be.”

I raised an eyebrow, “hm, interesting that I appear to not be optimistic. I take it that it's the wine bottle causing that.”

He smiled slightly, “Maybe. But just a little.”

“Any reason you don't drink?” I asked before realizing that may be very personal, “that is if you're comfortable answering.”

He shrugged, “I don't like the taste. Or the sensation.”

“That's a fair reason. I didn't like it much till I joined a sorority and ended up just liking it because we drank so much.” I kinda shuddered remembering the hangovers.

He raised an eyebrow, “I guess it tastes different once you're inebriated enough.”

“Yeah like spicy foods. Everyone hates them when they are a kid but you grow to love them as you get older.”

He snorted, ”I've always liked spicy foods, even as a kid.”

I laughed, “Well then you're weird. I still can't handle wasabi.”

He laughed softly, “You just need to be careful about the quantity.”

“No literally any bit of it and I'm out. My brother Danny put some on my sushi the other night, it was just a dapple from his chopstick but I couldn't eat the piece.”

“Did you try to?”

“No. Why would I want to be in pain, I'm not a weird masochist.”

“How do you know it's that bad if you never give it another try though?”

“Hmm, traumatic memories.”

He raised his eyebrows, a curious expression on his face, “Care to share?”

I sighed at the memory, “When I was a kid I really loved matcha paste. It was like a sweet matcha pouch of paste that you could suck out, like those applesauce containers. it was my favorite thing. My grandmother gave me some and since my parents found it effective to shut me up I got it a lot. One day they ordered sushi, left it on the table, I was around four so i could reach it, thought the wasabi was matcha and ate a handful of it. Tears ensued and now I'll never touch it again.”

He laughed softly, “Alright, I understand better. But you could try to overcome your trauma someday.”

“Maybe one day, but with a lot of milk in arms reach”

He nodded, “I'm sure it can be easily arranged during your little vacation.”

I kinda shuddered at the thought, “I'll for sure need a friendly face there with me for moral support.” I laughed.

He laughed quietly, “It shouldn't be hard to find.”

“Probably harder than the wasabi though. So that is task number one on mission wasabi.”

He smiled slightly, “Well, if you stay stuck too long on task number one, I can volunteer as a friendly face.”

“Thank you. Same to you if you ever happen to need one.”

He nodded, “I'll remember that.” He jerked his chin to the wine, “Are you still planning on drinking this?”

I lifted the bottle and stared for a moment, “it'll come back to my room for further deliberation. Possibly a nightcap.”

“If it can help you get some sleep…” He glanced at the palace, “I should walk you back to your room.”

“If you don't mind. I would consider you an expert of palace geography after all.”

He snorted and shook his head, “Do you remember your room number? Or Hall?”

“Ummmmm. I'm gonna guess 14. Could be 15 though.”

He took a step towards the palace, gesturing for me to walk along, “Well, hopefully we won't step into anyone's bedroom.”

“Hm. Well the doors do say our names on them, so assuming one of us is literate I think we're safe from that” .

“I'm a humble geographer, I read maps.” He replied, getting a small giggle from myself.

“lead the way, humble geographer.” We walked for a bit through the palace till we found my room.

“That's me.”

He stopped in front of the room, “Well, we've made it. Unscathed, at that.”

“Very impressive. I would say you're a 10 out of 10 guide for such an achievement.”

He bowed, “Please don't hesitate to post a review on TripAdvisor.”

I chuckled at the joke, “well thank you for all your help. Wishing you the best, Prince Eaton.”

“Eaton's just fine. Goodnight.” He smiled.

“Good night, Eaton” I replied with a curtsy then retired to my room.

Once I got on my laptop I pulled up my email. It wouldn’t be too annoying if I emailed my boss with some advertisement suggestions. If I let her know I’d be willing to help as much as I could. I could take up some interviews and remind people to donate. But as I typed I found myself hitting the same key over and over.

Finally I scrolled onto Toogle and began to read about Prince Damian. The bottle of wine found its way to my lips as I read about his partying, his boorish public behavior, his absolutely lack of responsibility for his people. Quickly the bottle was empty.

The world spun and I closed the laptop. My stomach gurgled demanding sustenance. Crackers? Something salty? Maybe popcorn. Popcorn and a movie sounds good, I mean why should I bother with anything else while I’m here in this hell. If I have to wake up early I can simply nap when I have a moment to spare. I took the bottle with me planning to throw it away in some form of recycling bin which I assumed would be in the kitchen.

I couldn’t find the kitchen. Instead I stood in an unknown hallway for a few moments, before finally deciding to give up and just return to my room. I could ask my maids for popcorn in the morning if I still wanted it.

I walked to my room on the corner of the hallway, walked in and laid on my bed. I let my shoes slip off and rest on the ground next to where I had placed the empty bottle.

“Um…” I hear someone say who then clears their throat and says a bit louder, “hello?”

I Rolled around to look at her. I had dismissed all of my maids, who was this person? After a moment I recognized her as a selected who I had seen earlier in the day, “Um? Hi?” I mumbled and tried to sit up a bit in bed. This was not a good time for me to be receiving visitors and I hadn’t the slightest clue why this girl was in my room.

She steps a bit closer to me, “Are you alright?”

“More than. Rich asshole got fucking great wine. I'm Savannah Mars of Labradoradora. Why are you in my room?” I slurred.

She mouthed “Labradoradora” silently to herself before she blinked again, and walked to the edge of the bed and looked at me. Seeming to understand my condition she smiled, “Somehow someway, you ended up in my room. Sienna. Not... Sorry, what’s your name?”

“Woops.” I giggled a bit at the situation now fully understanding this poor girl's confusion at my intrusion. “Savannah.” I lifted an arm in a lazy wave, “Mars. If you read the papers I'm the selected whose brother punched a reporter.”

She half grimaced, “Well hopefully you don’t punch me when I offer to help you back to your room.”

I laughed a bit at what this girl must be thinking of me, “not at all! They're just protective over a creepy paparazzi.” I sat up more straightly and swayed a little.“you don't have to help me though. I am perfectly capable of finding a room. Regardless of my state I am in fact a lawyer. Therefore I can read.”

Her smile is a little more at ease with my laugh, then she nodded slowly, “Oh absolutely. But so I don’t get mixed up in the future, can you let me come?” She said, eyeing my swaying carefully.

“Gotcha!” I cheered and did some finger guns and stood up successfully with the help of the bedpost, “I'm a lawyer, you?”

She stepped near me and offered a hand, answering distractedly, “Illustrator.”

I took her hand, “Pretty!” Then blushes a bit at the exclamation, “Illustration i mean! You are too though!” Trying not to insult the stranger.

She laughed softly and took my arm into the crook of hers, “Thank you. The compliment goes both ways.”

I nodded enthusiastically, “oh no bad idea dizzy.” I said and settled myself again, “I sleep somewhere around here. Why do all these doors look the same”

“I see why you got confused heading into my room.” She chuckles as she scans the plates, “Are you sure your room’s in this direction?” She blinked “Never mind.”

Suddenly I saw another door, it said S something, how many selected with S names could there be, “S is me!” I exclaimed.

She squinted and she looked closer at the nameplate, “S is close to you, but this isn’t your room. It’s Soraya’s,” She frowned and nodded at a guard who we passed.

“Oh... “ I wondered why someone else would have joined this, I suppose this other selected is a perfect person to ask, “Do you have the hots for the prince?”

She seemed startled by the question, “Well... we haven’t even met him yet.” She then raised a brow, “Do you?”

I laughed and nearly threw my head back, “Absolutely not! But I was wondering if all the girls here would be like” I stopped for a moment to gather myself, “UWUWUW Prince Dammmm i wanna be your wifeeyyy” I batted my eyes mimicking my expectation of my fellow selected, “and shit.”

Thankfully she laughed before quickly covering her mouth, “Let’s see how the interviews go then talk. I might go all moony-eyed.”

I half chuckled, “I don't think there’s a thing he could say to me to make me go all "uwu'. Strongly dislike the man off the bat.”

“Oh?” She raised a brow, a laugh still in her voice, “Is it the partying?”

“120%” I said fully serious.

She hummed, “What about it don’t you like?

“The fact that he's supposed to be the heir to illea and he's running around partying like he's just some ordinary frat boy. He has an obligation to the country and his choice to party over starting on work directly impacts thousands of peoples lives. I spend freaking days arguing cases that could just be solved if we had a leader who was sand enough to amend laws that deserve amending but he's out there doing jello shots and drinking tequila!” I complained, probably spilling out a bit much.

She sighed and bobbed her head to one side for a moment, focusing on the hallway before they reached the end of it and realized her room is probably back where they were before, she simply missed it. tugs them back in that direction again, “Maybe he’s... getting it out of his system.” She defended and wrinkled her nose clearly not believing her own words.

I sighed, “Maybe. At least this will let me tell if he's really that hopeless or not. Not that I'm one to speak in my current state.”

She gave a short laugh, “What if he is hopeless? What will you do then?”

I hadn’t quite thought that far out, “I figure out which one of you is the least hopeless and try to help them win.” I suggested.

She seemed amused at my conclusion, “Why did you submit your name then? For kicks and giggles?”

I sighed, “I didn't submit my application. Let's just leave it at that. Why'd you submit yours?” She seemed to agree with me about the large faults of the prince which made me more curious.

“Second chance at... something.” A vague answer.

I snorted, “something? What did you date a prince in a past life?”

She looked down with a smile then back up, “Life. Second chance at life.” I knew what she meant. The chance to reinvent yourself. I was able to get it before, if this was hers I wished her the best.

I looked up at her and smiled, “Well, I hope you get it Ms. Artist.”

She directed a smile at me, “Thank you.” We finally approach a room directly labeled Savannah Mars, which is funnily enough exactly across the hall from Sienna's. “I hope you don’t get too much of a headache tomorrow.”

I waved, “Nah I chug water.” I smiled at her already feeling the effects wearing off, “Thank you for walking me here, and I'm sorry for lying on your bed.”

“Sure sure.” She let go of her arm and raised a brow, “Positive you’ll be alright?”

“Positive.” I replied with a brief nod, headed into my room, then passed out for the night.

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