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#anyway. let me romance Vivienne

platonically-loving-alastor · 13 days

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Aroace Alastor

Hoo boy here we go- This one might make some people mad at me, so I'll preface by saying I do not want to start a fight and as long as you respect my business, I'll respect yours. But let's get this over with-

First off, I genuinely don't understand how some people can see the Ace-In-The-Hole quote and still believe that Alastor is only intended to be asexual and not also aromantic. Yes, the term Rosie used for purpose of the pun was 'ace', but can we look at the context of that moment before jumping to conclusions?

Rosie, motioning to Charlie: "Oh, who's this you brought with you? Come now, Alastor, she's much too young for you! Oh, I'm just kidding. I know you're an ace in the hole!"

Her original statement implies nothing sexual, only that he's involved in a relationship with Charlie, and she follows it up with why she knows that couldn't be because he's an 'ace in the hole'. I don't think you have to read too far between the lines to see that.

I would also like to say that when Vivienne has spoken about his orientation before, I recall her saying that she didn't want to confirm him being aromantic so that she wouldn't 'ruin anyone's fun', which I just feel like is an odd thing to say if she wasn't already explicitly picturing him as aroace. If she thought he had romantic attraction, why wouldn't she just say that? What fun would that ruin? I also feel like keeping things like this ambiguous just to appease the shippers is a little weird, but I digress-

And to those of you who I know are saying "But aromantic people can be in relationships too!!" *deep inhale* yeah I know. I'm not gonna pretend you're not right about that, but there are also aroace people who have exactly 0 interest in romance or sex at all. This is the part of the post that really is based on how I interpret certain moments, but to me he is absolutely one of those people. I don't really know where people get any vibes of him being interested in that stuff. I have never once looked at him and thought "Yeah I could see him in a romantic relationship with *insert character here*". Even aside from attraction in general, since that's what we'd be talking about at this point anyway, he just seems like the kind of guy who'd rather work and live independently instead of relying on anyone, whether practically or emotionally (which is also probably part of the reason he never joined the Vees, but that's another topic entirely). Hell, I'm pretty sure he's in heavy denial about even developing any kind of care or friendship with the people at the hotel (ie. the episode 8 scene with him and Niffty).

The only ships I see him involved in with people he doesn't hate (so ignoring RadioApple, RadioHusk, and StaticRadio. But to be real, maybe the fact all his main ships are enemies to lovers coded says something about the whole situation, but that's just me-) are Charlastor - which I will not even try to discuss here, people aren't gonna like this post as it is - and RadioRose. Rosie and him would at least be fair, if it weren't for one thing (which is also personal opinion on my end), and I don't know exactly how to word it. I'm tempted to say she has wingwoman vibes? But she knows he's aro, so that's not the right word, but there's vibes of like, she probably did act as a wingwoman before she realized that about him or something.. There's also something about her joking around like "Oh this is the girl? You have a girlfriend and I'm only now meeting her?" is almost giving motherly behavior. Idk man they're just besties to me, I could see them in a QPR though (not that they'd probably label it that way, considering the word queerplatonic is likely just complete gibberish to Alastor lmao).

So to summarize: It feels incredibly likely, if not practically canon, that Alastor was written with aromanticism in mind, even if Vivienne refuses to explicitly state it. Subtext and not-that-subtle implications can say just as much about a character as word of God, especially when that God has explicitly told us why she won't confirm or deny this information. Do I think any of this will stop people from shipping him romantically with literally any other character? No ofc it won't, and that's okay, that's just what fandoms do. I do think there's something to say for the fact the one aroace (or even at the very least asexual) character gets constantly shipped with everyone else in the cast, but this post is long enough I think. The only point of posting this is that I wanted to get information out there in one post to say "Hey, let's look a little bit past the surface for a second before saying there's no proof of him being aromantic"

Anyway, thanks for reading, I hope you at least took something away from this

#*prepares to be metaphorically burned at the stake*#i will also say i have a complicated relationship with staticradio #if its one sided thats fantastic but the moment alastor reciprocates feelings im out #will probably make a post on that too at some point #hazbin hotel #alastor #aroace alastor #rosie hazbin hotel #platonic radiorose

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zevranunderstander · 6 months

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i guess this is a weird take and i know that "getting to know the mean & rude character and realizing they are actually really sweet" is a trope people love, and thats valid and all. but i dont care for that fantasy at all and i want to romance a bitch and still have them be a bitch by the end of the romance. i have been romancing the meanest character in the roster since i was like 10 years old in harvest moon. i romanced the mean cowboy in sunshine islands. i romanced the bitchy jeweller guy in the wii harvest moon games. and 10 year old me literally lost all interest the second they were all lovey-dovey and lost all their edge? and like 10 years later, in harvest moon's spiritual successor, stardew valley, i romanced haley AND shane and still didnt get to have a partner who is a bit of a rude cunt at the end. while i would never say anything mean to the old dragon age romances, inquisition didn't even let me romance vivienne. so i started a bg3 run where im romancing minthara and astarion at the same time, because its one of the poly relationships the game allows and theyre both mean cunts, anyways i had sex w both of them once and they immediately changed their whole persona from evil and mean and nasty to loving and caring and affectionate and like, this post isnt saying that thats a bad thing from a writing perspective, thats good and healthy in a normal relationship but i want to engage in weirder, more toxic and a bit problematic relationships you know?

#myposts #bg3 #like one thing for example is that minthara betrays you #but she doesnt if you sleep with her and like. I wish she still would? am i insane?#also not directly related but astarion trying to be seductive was sooooooooooo akward #like. idk he has a relatively low charisma stat so im not sure if it was on purpose but man?#you are telling me this guy seduced people hard enough to kidnap and kill them?#the voice he puts on. i was soo bewildered

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chloedrewitt · 16 days

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Book Review: "The Cruel Prince" by Holly Black

Spoiler-free

Genre: young adult, fantasy • Triggers: murder, death, suicide, graphic descriptions of corpses, bullying, child abuse • Year of Publication: 2018

Plot: ★★★

Characters: ★★

Writing Style: ★

Re-Readability: ★★★

all my reviews - blog navigation - my own writing - Discord Server

General Thoughts

I want to start this by saying that I really wanted to like this book. Unfortunately, I ended up hating it. The plot is incredibly interesting and the idea of the Faerie world super engaging. However, everything that I liked about this book ends exactly there. I really did like the plot and all the ideas Black had, however her writing is simply not for me. Had another author with a different style written this book I am sure I would have enjoyed it. But let's get into the review, and please, remember this is purely my subjective opinion. This book is widely popular, so it has found its audience for sure. I just wasn't part of that, and that is okay. Nevertheless, I wanted to share my thoughts.

Plot

As I said above, the plot is the book's strong suit for me. Despite the fact that, keeping faerie's hate for mortals in mind, it would have made more sense to me had Madoc killed Jude and Taryn then and there in the prologue. Why does Madoc take Jude and Taryn with him to raise them? It would only make sense to kill the children that blossomed out of a union such as their parents, without giving too much away. Is it fae customs not to? Is it some sort of personal ego problem he has? Is it empathy, despite the obvious “monster”-like personality? It is never fully explained to the extent where I could say “Ah, yes! That makes sense.” (Maybe it is explained in the sequels, I can’t say).

Another thing that made no sense to me was when the spies captured Cardan. I won't get into too many details to still keep this spoiler free, but there was this one occurrence I really had trouble finding realistic. In that scene, the spies, the ones with the actual experience and training, let Cardan go to have a drink with him. Because he is oh, so charming. Keep in mind, Cardan is the only one who can seal his brother’s reign, which would be bloody and cruel (I think the book’s title refers more to his brother than Cardan. I won't say which brother though). It seems like a completely illogical plot device to show how amazing Jude is and how she knows everything better than the others. You know, the actual spies. Even if they don’t care what happens to Faerie or its king, I find it very OOC for a spy to free one of their captives, especially to have a drink with him. They should be able to resist Cardan’s "charm".

Still, even with these inconsistencies, I thought the plot was engaging and interesting. The whole setting, a human girl growing up in the faerie lands who sort of has to navigate this world where even the food could kill her any moment, sounds very intriguing. I also loved how the faerie's around her manipulated her despite the fact she was the only one able to lie.

I do, however, want to state that this is not an enemies to lovers in my opinion. The romance is merely a sub plot anyway and did not really do it for me, but Cardan e.g. kicking dirt in Jude's food is bullying, nothing more. To me, this is a bullies to lovers if anything. Still, the main plot saved the book for me, but unfortunately it was not enough for me to continue the series.

Characters

This is where the story really begins to crumble for me. I barely liked any characters. Probably the only ones who did not annoy me where Vivienne and Cardan, but only in the second half of the book.

Let’s start with Jude, since she is the main character. It might be because I am in my 20s and she is still a child (16 or 17 I believe), but Jude annoyed me so much. The only thing that made sense about her was the fact that she wanted to prove to herself and the fae that she was worthy. Which, after living in a world that tells you you are dirt is understandable. I will get more into the writing style later, but it was so dry and emotionless that it made her sound like some robot, programmed to do only one thing: prove to the pretty fae that she’s worthy. Not to mention, it also made her sound very immature. Jude gets praised by the book community for being this super strong heroine that is super relatable and people can look up to - but I just saw none of that. Instead, I saw an insecure child trying to be included in things that are too big for her. When I mentioned this to someone they asked me if I read a lot of YA because "this is what YA heroines are like". I do, in fact, read a lot of YA and I can still say that Jude felt way younger than she was supposed to be. Comparing her to other YA heroines who are roughly the same age only strengthens this for me.

Let’s move on to Cardan. In the first half of the book, I wished someone would just punch him. When he was actually being punished later on I honestly didn’t feel bad for him. He treated Jude like shit, which, yes, I know, was the whole point but again, he did it in a very immature way. I’m thinking about the time he kicked dirt into Jude’s food or wanted her to kiss his feet. However, I later saw that this made sense for the character. He is insecure because of the way he grew up; isolated, lonely and faced with punishment. And in the second half of the book he was actually likeable as well. Cardan feels like the only character with actual depth. Where Jude had potential, Cardan had execution. However, Cardan and Jude’s immaturity made me uncomfortable as a reader sometimes. Mixed with the dry writing style, I could not help but imagine them as way younger than they were, all while they were making out and killing people or running around with a sword.

Madoc. Oh, Madoc. How I dislike this character. Nothing about him made sense to me. He is a huge hypocrite. What exactly is his motivation? Everything was justified by him being a "monster" by nature, but that just didn’t satisfy me. First of all, "monster" is a very subjective term. No one is ever truly evil, and I would have just wished that Madoc wasn’t so one-dimensional. It made reading the entire arc that involved him hard. And if he really is a monster, why was he so nice to Jude and Taryn? Maybe I missed it somewhere, but I am really not sure why he didn’t kill the twins on the spot when he saw them (it's not a spoiler, this is literally the prologue) and only took Vivienne, his actual daughter, back to Faerie. I suppose taking the twins was meant to show he actually has depth to him, but the repetitive "he’s a monster" with absolutely no evidence for that claim ruined it for me.

This is something which Black does quite often, by the way. She makes a claim about a character but then gives barely any or no evidence at all to support this claim and the reader is simply expected to believe her.

The Writing Style

So, a little background info about what I personally enjoy reading. I study English Literature, so I am faced with “pretentious” writing almost every day. It is just a personal preference, but it is what I generelly enjoy. For me, a book has to have a healthy combination of dry and lyrical writing, so it doesn't reach either purple prose or sahara territory. The Cruel Prince's writing style is very dry and straight to the point. This can work to increase tension during a dramatic scene, but using it throughout the entire book does exactly the opposite. Some people will still like that, which I can respect. However, for me it was just boring to read and, to repeat myself once more, it made Jude sound very immature. Why? I can’t say for sure. But what I know is that in writing, everything has an effect on the reader. The writing style, the scenery, hell, even the metre. The writing style in this book simply had this effect on me.

Another thing that I didn’t like was the several occasions of telling and not showing. Black mentioned three times in just a few pages that Jude and Cardan were enemies and they hate each. We got it, okay? There is no need to repeat it a million times. Perhaps she wanted to portray it as Jude telling herself they’re enemies and that she can’t pursue him, but it really did not seem that way to me and it unfortunately annoyed me.

Re-Readability

I think this a book you can definitely re-read if you liked it. It can be fun trying to look for clues within the narration that point to the big twists in the end. I personally just cannot put myself through this book again for all the reasons mentioned above.

Conclusion

I really cannot understand the hype of this book to be honest. Yes, the premise is interesting but the rest just does not do it for me and comparing it to other YA books, it felt incredibly immature to read. I am almost saddened to say that I regret spending almost ten euros on a copy of this, but what's done is done. I do, however, love the aesthetics of the book and will always stop to like a video of the wonderful cosplayers dressing up as the characters.

#the cruel prince #holly black #jude x cardan #cardan greenbriar #booktok #bookish #book reviews #book review #jude duarte #prince cardan

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britcision · 1 year

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You could always lean into the whole 'nobles are related to everyone noble' thing. Like, for nobles maybe it's not weird, so long as there's enough generations removed. And that's why they memorize family trees, because I imagine marriage for the nobility is half politics anyway. Perhaps a cousin of Trevelyan's is married to a Montilyet, but Josephine isn't necessarily directly related. Dorian canonically is, and it's heavily implied Cassandra has an Trevelyan ancestor as well. But you could have the non-noble characters/heralds being weirded out over the noble characters or those integrated at court (in Vivienne's case) not being weirded out. Turn it into a case of culture clash.

Oh absolutely and it’s going to be wicked fun to play with, you totally get it

It’s literally why tracing lineage is so important in nobility, especially the “we cannot marry below our class” flavour; there’s only so many noble families, and over centuries you WILL work your way through all of them

It’s all stock books, and historically speaking… let’s just say there’s a very long line of flexibility in just how close you have to be not to marry

It’s not that Trevelyan, a noble family, being related to a lot of other noble families and lineages would be even remotely unusual for this genre of fantasy; it’s practically a trope

“All Nobles Are Related”

For me specifically, it’s very much that they specify you are related To The Romanceable NPCs but not the non-romanceable ones

Those are all ambiguous it’s fine

#dragon age inquisition #dai #answered asks #the saga of why is trevelyan related to everyone

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honeysofte-archieve · 3 years

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birdsong.

rating: teens and up. suggestive themes.

pairing: cremisius aclassi/female lavellan.

word count: 2,559

summary: Lavellan stays the night. Or rather: a morning.

haven’t written anything in a long while so this might come off as really clumsy & cringy, but here it is, anyway! <3

* * *

She is wearing his shirt.

She is sitting by the wide window sill, leaning against the wall and reading a leather-bound book while balancing a cup of herbal tea on one of her folded knees, and she is wearing his shirt and--

not much else, to be honest.

This is naturally the first thing Krem notices once he opens his eyes because he’s surprisingly one-track minded when it comes to Lavellan to his greatest embarrassment. Not that her appearance is the only thing that he cares about, far from it for he would adore her no matter what, but it certainly makes her all the more distracting to him.

The boys like to give him shit about it, too -- how utterly obvious and showy his affection and desire for her is. Krem would shut their faces permanently with his fist if Lavellan didn’t find it so endearing and smile at him sweetly whenever the topic comes up. Sometimes she even gets on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek in front of all of them like she’s not ashamed at all of his affection for her and isn't afraid to show she returns the sentiment just as wholly.

And isn’t that the most amazing thing in the world for someone to have? To love and be loved so genuinely and kindly that one can feel it all the way inside their spine and lungs, a comforting presence no one wants to lose, ever.

in ao3. ♥

But of course, the topic of love has never come up, at least in spoken words. Everything is still quite new and wonderful, but Krem knows it's true. He loves her. And he's pretty positive she loves him too. Or he hopes she does, the other option gives him way too much anxiety so he's trying not to think about it. Like, ever.

But anyway, Krem can’t help but stare with no words to describe what he is feeling. He can feel the faint flicker of red on his cheeks. He can feel how his heartbeat quickens two-fold. He can feel a weight loosening free inside his chest as he watches this beautiful creature that is somehow his.

Inquisitor Lavellan looks open and vulnerable and beautiful in the morning sun, the light dancing on her neck and chest-- the old scars on her face, the faint stretch marks and moles littering her thighs and arms more prominent this way. She is frowning slightly as she reads, her teeth tugging her lower lip in concentration at whatever is happening in the book, before she licks her thumb and turns another page, oblivious to Krem’s gawking.

The shirt, of course, is not the main reason he can't keep his eyes away from her, though, even if she looks very attractive in it.

No, the very thing that has Krem astonished is that she's still here. In his room. In the morning. For the first time since they've started doing this, kissing and laughing and having sex, and Krem… isn't entirely sure what to make of it.

Lavellan is a very busy woman after all.

A few moments pass before Lavellan glances in his direction and takes a double-look when she notices him awake. Krem kind of does this awkward finger-wiggle sort of thing at her because it's quite impossible for her not to figure out he's been staring at her quite intently for a while now.

"Good morning, Cremisius,” Lavellan murmurs with a small smile on her heart-shaped face and does a finger-wiggle right back at him, making it look somehow elegant and not idiotic as hell.

No one, not one person, calls him Cremisius. No one except for her. And he likes how the name forms in her mouth, likes the look on her face as she says it aloud. His heart always skips a beat when she does it and he doesn’t think he will ever get used to it. He is so easy for her.

Lavellan looks unusually relaxed this morning, Krem has not often seen her like this-- probably no one does. She works and works and works and rarely takes time for herself and it’s always rubbed Krem off the wrong way how much people demand of her, never giving her a break, never letting her just be. Sometimes he feels like fighting every fucker who makes her feel like she doesn't deserve time for herself, but he desists. Mostly.

But here she is. Here she is this morning; still with him despite her duties and demands of others. For the first time during their relationship. It's almost astonishing.

“Morning.” Krem’s throat is slightly dry and his voice catches just a little when he meets her bronze coloured eyes. Maker, he hopes it’s not too obvious.

“Did you sleep well?” Lavellan asks gently, closes her book and takes a sip of her still steaming tea. She mustn't have been awake for long though the morning seems already later than normal. Krem is usually already long awake at this hour, doing drills with the boys or eating an early lunch.

Krem blinks and blinks again before finally realises she’s expecting an answer and he ends up nodding. And for a while, they just keep staring at each other in silence before Krem can’t help but beam at her in something like happiness.

“I like your shirt,” he blurts out, feeling absolutely moronic today for some reason. It makes Lavellan lift her eyebrow and for a while, Krem is sure she’s going to ignore the comment as she often does, but this time she only shrugs and says:

“I was feeling a little cold.”

It’s summer and it’s not true, both of them know that, so Krem grins, his lips wide, and Lavellan rolls her eyes in something like fondness. She scratches her leg, the shirt collar dropping downwards as her body moves and Krem has to swallow hard.

The moment isn’t awkward, per se, it’s just new and it seems like neither of them really knows how to fill it. It doesn't feel like the place for empty chatter.

“You look good in it. Comfortable. Very.... stimulating,” he dares to comment and suppresses a lewd grin that threatens to slip out.

“Hmm,” Lavellan answers. She seems amused, however faintly, which Krem takes as a victory. He feels an urge to do something with his hands-- pull her closer across the distance and touch the soft skin of her thigh. Or something.

“So,” Krem says slowly. The scratchy sheets are bundled around his waist and he scratches his abdomen. His chest is bound, but he doesn’t feel self-conscious around her, not anymore. For she knows him; she knows most things about him. He knows a little less about her, but he’s determined to learn every piece of her in time.

Lavellan opens her book again.

“So,” Lavellan answers and even though she’s not looking at him, the corners of her mouth are twitching. It makes Krem braver than he is.

“I kind of didn’t expect you to still be here.”

His words are casual and not accusing, not in the slightest, and he’s glad that Lavellan notices it as well because her expression doesn’t change.

“I’m taking the day off,” Lavellan replies and flips a page forward in her book, though she’s not reading it as far as Krem can tell, just staring at the words since her eyes don’t move on the paper.

“Can an inquisitor take a day off?”

“Who could stop me? I am the Inquisitor,” Lavellan kind of scoffs, kind of laughs. Krem’s gaze is focused on her pink mouth because, Maker, he is apparently just as bad as most other men are when it comes to a pretty face. He really hopes Lavellan doesn’t notice, that’d be quite embarrassing. Not that he has ever pretended to know something about words like honour or chastity.

“... Fair point.”

Lavellan hums underneath her breath, a breathy sound that is filled with something untraceable to him. He wonders what she’s thinking about.

“What are you reading?” Krem asks casually as he can, feeling slightly idiotic because he doesn’t know what to do at this moment. He wants to stand up and go to her, he wants to kiss her and pull her back to bed and do things to her that makes her body wet with sweat and pleasure.

Still, he does nothing except grip the bedsheets into this fist and takes a deep breath. He can be patient when he wills so-- he can be patient for her.

“A romance novel. Or rather a bodice ripper, I would say.”

“Shit,” Krem replies. Or more like mumbles as he still feels a little tired after the night despite having slept so long this morning. He's sort of surprised the chief hasn't come barreling through his door yet, the big damn oaf.

“Josephine gave it to me,” Lavellan continues casually. She is combing her long blonde hair with her fingers as she speaks and Krem wants nothing more than to touch her right at this moment. He aches with it, his fingers cramping at how hard he is gripping the bedsheets.

“She apparently got it from Vivienne who got it from Cassandra who got it from Sera who got it from... somewhere." Lavellan pauses. "Josephine called it the ‘the most beautifully written love story of this age’ so naturally, I needed to read it.”

“So, how is it?”

Krem doesn't want to talk about books.

He wants to pull her back into his bed and do things to her with his mouth and sleep some more afterwards.

“Mildly entertaining and educational. Considerably smuttier than I expected truth to be told, but I don’t mind. See, I had no idea qunari could be so incredibly... bendy.”

Lavellan grins at him, her mouth in a wicked bow, and Krem is not blushing. He is not. He is a grown man and doesn't flush at the mere mention of sex, that would be ridiculous considering he spends most of his time around Iron Bull and the other boys who hold nothing back.

"I'm certain you could ask the chief about it if you're really curious."

Lavellan huffs. "No thank you, that is definitely not the kind of conversation I want to have with my lover's superior."

Krem's heart jumps into his throat. Lover, he thinks. He likes the sound of the word. It feels fitting for them.

“Come here,” he requests throatily, changing the subject to something he is more desperate for. “Please.”

Lavellan spends a moment only looking, or perhaps studying, him with her piercing eyes before she sets down the book and her now empty teacup on the window sill and comes to him, all gentle smiles and cold fingertips. Just before he lays down, she takes off his shirt and Krem feels a tiny bang of disappointment before he realises that the sight of her bare frame, her charming curves and soft belly and generous chest, the constellations of freckles, moles and scars on her skin, are a marginally better sight.

Lavellan lets him look at her a moment that doesn't feel like enough time to drink in the picture she makes before she settles beside him on her stomach and Krem closes her delicate hand inside his own sword-callused one.

“You look so beautiful,” he confesses, perhaps too honestly, the words escaping his mouth like a bird out of its cage For a short moment Lavellan looks almost impossibly surprised like this is something she didn’t expect him to say at all. Her eyes are wide and sweet with something like utter fondness for him.

“And you are looking very handsome,” she counters, never quite knowing what to do with a direct compliment and this time he definitely blushes quite visibly but finds himself not minding it that much at all anymore. She could see all of him, naked and laid bare, and he would let her, always. No secrets, no fears.

Lavellan cups Krem's cheek and peers at him with an unflinching look, her thumb stroking the curve of his moist mouth. His tongue peeks out of his mouth and he swallows hard.

“Your freckles have grown bolder under the summer sun,” she comments aloud as her fingers explore every nook of his face, tracing the bridge of his nose with her long nail and thumbing the fragile, blue skin underneath his eyes that are still puffy from sleep. He feels invincible, confident beyond explanation. That's what Lavellan does to Krem.

Krem licks his lips. He licks his lips and the tip of it catches on Lavellan's fingertip, just before she presses her tender mouth to his own and kisses him for the first time for what feels like forever.

And it's a very good kiss. One of the best he's ever had.

Not overly gentle, but intense and sweet, and it consumes him entirely with its depth, making him feel thoroughly light-headed and happy.

So happy. Being with Lavellan makes him the happiest he's ever been. He's a lucky son of a bitch and he’s the first one to admit that.

"I'm glad you stayed tonight," Krem whispers, his voice husky with need and she looks straight into his eyes before murmuring: "Me too."

Afterwards, a comfortable silence surrounds them for a long while. They fill it with kisses and hungry caresses, but they're not in a rush to start anything more. They continue until Lavellan breaks apart and searches his eyes with her own brown ones. For some reason, there's a touch of sadness in them.

"You know it's nothing personal, don't you?" she asks hesitantly, her fingers drumming against his chest as she talks-- a habit that tells him that she’s genuinely nervous about his answer. She swallows before continuing: "If I could, I would wake up in your arms every morning, it’s just-- "

"I know," Krem murmurs, shushing her words with a small peck. And he does, but fuck how he hates it. Sometimes he would just want to bury her in his arms and hide her from the rest of the world. Not that Lavellan would ever let him, but a man can dream.

"Good." Lavellan nods, satisfied. She brushes his forehead with the back of her hand, sweeping off a drooping hair strand that's been tickling his brow for a while now. Krem isn't sure if he deserves such tenderness from her. Or anyone.

"Good," Krem repeats with the biggest grin that flashes his teeth and Lavellan rolls her beautiful eyes before kissing him again with a fierce sort of enthusiasm that takes Krem off guard.

But neither of them are leading it to anything more. They're perfectly content just like this, with rush or impatience for nothing.

It's a new feeling and it's lovely.

"This is nice," Krem says after they pull apart again with their mouths wet and red, her doe-eyes almost swallowed up by her black pupils.

Lavellan looks entirely fond. She presses her lips to his forehead, the gesture not overly sweet but close enough. "It is."

"Maybe you could… take a day off again some time," Krem suggests making Lavellan sort of snort in surprise. Though before Krem can feel too bad about asking, she murmurs acceptance in his ear.

"Mm. I'll see what I can do."

It's as good as a promise.

#dragon age #da:i #lavellan #cremisius aclassi #krem x inquisitor #female lavellan #cremisius aclassi x inquisitor #fanfic #*my writing #character: sage

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jawsofhakkontranscript · 3 years

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Jaws of Hakkon - Party Banter

Sera: The veil is wobbly here.

Dorian: Perhaps a bit warbly instead?

Cassandra: Certainly not! It's much more squeaky.

Iron Bull: I was going with spicy.

Vivienne: Don't be ridiculous, darling. It's clearly snarky.

Blackwall: You sure it isn't wiggly?

Varric: I'd say more wonky, myself.

Sera: What? Let me check. Sensing. Sense-y. Definitely wobbly.

Solas: (Sighs.)

Vivienne: Demons still scare you, dear? After all we've been through? Might you have suffered some form of injury as a child?

Sera: You and yours are the broken ones. Being scared of things that are scary is normal. Your "training" is the weird thing. Ask anyone who's not one of you.

Vivienne: Because I have been trained not to be afraid?

Sera: It's like... you're scabbed over or something. Makes me wonder what else you don't feel.

(Alternatively, if the Inquisitor is in a romance with Sera.)

Sera: It's like you don't feel. Not like Inky/Buckles/Shiny/Teetness/Tadwinks/Honey Tongue, anyway.

Vivienne: I feel everything in the proper measure.

Sera: Right. Because you're normal. Just ask you.

Dorian: For hating the outdoors, you sure seem to like bad weather.

Sera: What's that now?

Dorian: The other day, you were outside in the rain, staring up with a grin on your face.

Sera: I smile at clouds.

Dorian: Of course you do.

Sera: What, I should hunch and swear at the rain pissing off my nose? Let the weather win? I smile the frig out of clouds. Maybe they get tired of trying.

Dorian: Are we still talking about clouds?

Sera: What

Dorian: Never mind. Drinks and insults later?

Sera: We're both buying. Then there's double.

(Stone-Bear Hold, passing by the landmark “In Fear of Hryngnar'' located next to Trainer Arrken Feldsen.)

Dorian: Every time I think I've seen the ugliest possible Avvar statue, a new one turns up that surpasses my expectations.

Sera: Creepy. Needs a hat. And breeches.

Blackwall: Maybe a mustache?

Sera: (Laughs.) Oh, that's good! We can draw one with soot!

Vivienne: Hmm. Cover it in gold leaf and it wouldn't be terrible.

(Nigel’s Point)

Dorian: The ancient Imperium did like to leave a mark. I wonder how long they stayed?

(Old Temple)

Dorian: Tevinter architecture at its finest. This just screams "I hated my parents and had no friends as a child," doesn't it?

(Razikale’s Reach)

Dorian: Makes you wonder about the sad, mid-level bureaucrat who thought building an outpost here would be a career boost.

(Tevinter ruins)

Cassandra: The Imperium reached even here.

Varric: I'm starting to think that if we went to the moon or the bottom of the sea, we'd find Tevinter ruins there.

(Swamp Kuldsdotten)

Dorian: I'm shocked I've never seen this plant before. It's so melodramatic, half the magisterium should be growing it.

Vivienne: Barbwood. A parasitic tree that grows through the body of its host. Useful in alchemy. Makes terrible furniture.

Dialogue options:

General: What do you use it for? [1]

General: Why is it terrible? [2]

[1] General: What do you use it for?

PC: What sort of uses does it have?

Vivienne: Vivienne: The sap makes potent restorative potions. Extracts from the leaves are useful for transmutations. Harvesting either one is too dangerous to attempt often. More's the pity. If the Inquisition could get herbalists out here to harvest it, you could make a fortune. Or several.

[2] General: Why is it terrible?

PC: What's so terrible about it?

Vivienne: Barbwood doesn't die, it goes dormant. Spill one drop of water on it and it sprouts... and infests your other furniture. I knew a comte in Montsimmard who had it take over his dining room. The Circle cleared the infestation free of charge.

(Swamp Kuldsdotten)

Cole: The trees are fighting. They are very angry, but very slow.

Cassandra: Be prepared. There's no telling what trouble we'll find down here.

(Swamp Kuldsdotten)

Iron Bull: Good place to get ambushed. Watch your back.

Inquisitor: You do know it's not physically possible to watch your own back.

Iron Bull: And now I'm thinking about it.

Inquisitor: Is there such a thing as a good place to get ambushed?

Iron Bull: "Pitch-black swampy wilderness," is at the bottom, next to armories and anyplace with hooks hanging from the ceiling. Everything else you rank in descending order from there. Expensive glassware shops, wine cellars, maybe an Orlesian ball. Those would be good places.

(Swamp Kuldsdotten)

Blackwall: How can it be so dark?

Sera: Because there’s no light, silly.

Blackwall: Ah... yes, that must be it.

(Cloudcap Lake)

Sera: Ugh, smells like the lake chucked its innards.

Inquisitor: I suppose you hate fish, too?

Sera: I like them cooked or hidden under some nob's furniture. Not up my nose.

Inquisitor: Put it out of your mind if it bothers you.

Sera: I can't out-think the air. Is that a special Herald power? Can't wait for the chant about that.

(Varsdotten River)

Blackwall: I wonder what they're catching up here. Sunfish? Trout?

Varric: How do fish even get into the mountains? Can they climb?

Sera: Fish stink until fried. Then get in my mouth.

(Tree bridge)

Dorian: Everyone remember not to look down.

Sera: If you close your eyes it's like flying. I bet, anyway. Don't do it, you'll fall. Which is flying, but shit.

Inquisitor: I may have already looked.

Dorian: (if the Inquisitor is in a romance with Dorian) Just try not to think about it. Or fall. I'd have to jump down after you. It would be very touching and so melodramatic it would become tiresome.

Dorian: (if the Inquisitor is in a romance with Cullen) Just try not to think about it. Or fall. Falling would be worse. I am not going to be the one to explain to Cullen that I let you fall to your death from a tree.

Dorian: (if the Inquisitor is in a romance with Josephine) Just try not to think about it. Or fall. Falling would be worse. I have no desire to tell Josephine that I let you fall to your doom from a tree in the middle of nowhere.

Dorian: (if the Inquisitor is in another romance/unromanced) Just try not to think about it. Or fall. Falling would be worse. Nobody wants to be the one to tell the world the Inquisitor fell off a log into an abyss.

Inquisitor: Are you saying that because you already did?

Dorian: Let's not start a whole game of, "Who looked down and suddenly felt the weight of their own mortality," shall we? Some of us have to concentrate on walking. If you do happen to look down, I also don't recommend thinking about how far it is to the ground.

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #jaws of hakkon #party banter #the veil is wobbly #avvar statue #tevinter ruins #swamp kuldsdotten #cloudcap lake #tree bridge #tree houses

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ardunkothe · 3 years

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Vhenan as a Companion

What's up folks I have dragon age brain rot again let's GO

(Templates used were made by dextronoms. They can be found here and here.)

Inquisitor Name: Vhenan Lavellan

Alternate Name?: Vhenan; no last name

Race, Class, & Specialization: Elf, Archer/Artificer

Varric’s Nickname for them: Lover boy (undecided)

Default Tarot Card: Two of Wands

How they are recruited: He is found in the Hinterlands, camped behind the waterfall on the Western Road; only available after Templars to the West is completed.

If recruited while the Inquisitor is in Haven, the first time talking to him (found near Varric’s campfire) instigates a cutscene wherein Varric is asking him what he hopes to gain by joining the Inquisition, personally. (Varric: "Come on, lover boy, everyone's got a personal stake in this. Me? I just want to see how this story ends...") Vhen uses the Inquisitor's approach as a distraction to end the interaction with Varric.

If recruited after the Inquisitor has moved to Skyhold, his first interaction cutscene finds him offering his help to Skyhold's new quartermaster.

If the Inquisitor has interrogated the quartermaster about his credentials, Vhen will add: "It isn't that I don't think you're qualified, I just want to help... in the only way I know how."

The Inquisitor can ask him why he’s offering aid to the quartermaster, and Vhen will admit that he was apprenticed to his clan’s craftsman. He had hoped to take their place one day.

Where they are in Skyhold: When the Inquisitor first arrives at Skyhold he is found at the base of the stairs next to the tavern. If the Inquisitor upgrades Skyhold with a training area, he is found leaning on the fence observing (if the Inquisitor does not, he is found in the farthest corner of the courtyard, past the stables).

Things they Generally Approve of: Sympathy for mages and elves; small acts of kindness (such as taking the elven widower's flowers to his wife's grave); humorous replies; attempts to avoid violence through compromise.

Things they Generally Disapprove of: Turning away any companion recruited after his own recruitment; leaving Hawke in the fade; Inquisitors that agree with the claims that they're the Maker's chosen; sentencing mages to tranquility. Attacking the ancient elves causes major disapproval.

Mages, Templars, Other?: Does not seem to have a strong stance in either direction. Moderate approval gained regardless of which side the Inquisitor picks.

If prodded prior to locking in a choice he responds with: "I'm a craftsman, not a Keeper, I don't know the first thing about magic." "Between you and me, Inquisitor, I... Nevermind." "This is a hard choice to make. I'm glad I'm not the one who has to make it." “I’ll stand by whatever decision you make, Inquisitor, just make it soon…”

Friends in the Inquisition: Keeps to himself mostly, but occasionally is found in the company of Dorian in the tower, seeking discussion of a book they’ve read. A missable cutscene wherein he can be found outside Cullen’s office. When spoken to, Vhen will tell the Inquisitor he wants to talk to the knight-captain but expresses belief that Cullen probably hates him and leaves. Asks Solas periodically about his knowledge of elves and the fade. Leaves after Solas expresses interest in his interest. (If Hawke is a rogue) found on the battlements with them, shyly asking them for fighting tips. (If Hawke is not a rogue, he instead asks what the Free Marches are like.)

Once in a while Vhen will “disappear” from Skyhold. If the Inquisitor scours the castle, he will be found in the dusty library beneath the castle, where he gives only distracted responses.

Romanceable?: open to all races/gender. Flirting options available from the start, answered by flustered, dismissive responses. Continuation available as completion of side quest progresses; further availability determined by outcome of second companion quest. Implied to be potentially romanced by other characters.

Small side mission: “Helping Hunters”. Vhen requests the Inquisitor’s help in seeking out lost dalish hunters last seen in the area. (One group in the Hinterlands, one on the Storm Coast, one in Crestwood). Becomes available after Crestwood is unlocked.

Companion quest: “Things Better Left Unsaid”. Becomes available after What Pride Had Wrought, if Helping Hunters has been completed. Vhen has a personal matter he needs to discuss with the Inquisitor in private. Transitions to a cutscene in the hall outside the Inquisitor's quarters. Vhen claims that he has arranged to meet a member of another Dalish clan with news about his own, but would like the Inquisitor’s company. If the Inquisitor presses, he promises he will tell them the details only after they help. He asks them to trust him.

Should the Inquisitor refuse, he clams up and leaves, and the conversation and quest ends. Any prior flags are cleared and he is no longer available to be romanced.

If the Inquisitor was romancing Vhen, he ends the conversation by saying "this isn't going to work. I'm sorry. I… forget it."

If the Inquisitor agrees, but inquires further, Vhen gives evasive answers, again promising to tell them later.

After the quest is completed (a one-time-area visitation and cutscene where Vhen speaks with the aforementioned Dalish before exchanging coins for an unseen item), Vhen admits that this wasn't an update on his clan. He has been hiding his budding magic and has bought an amulet that he believes is going to help.

If Solas is present, he makes a noise of interest, but otherwise does not comment.

If Dorian is present, he lets out an uncomfortable laugh. “Is he serious? He’s, oh…”

If Vivienne is present, she sympathetically remarks "oh you foolish thing."

Option 1: If the Inquisitor responds sympathetically (>Be honest with me: "You don't have to hide who you really are. Least of all from me.") Vhen will promise not to keep it a secret anymore, because the Inquisitor has made him feel like his magic isn't something he should hide anymore (but expresses that he still fears it, and uncertainty that such will ever change). An option becomes available to change his class, and he is more often found in the company of one of the other mages, asking questions. If the Inquisitor was romancing him, it can now be completed.

Option 2: The Inquisitor responds neutrally (>It's your life. "I can't tell you how to live your life. Just promise you know what you're doing with it.") Vhen responds favorably. It's still a relatively new problem for him but he's confident that it'll all be fine. After expressing a fear of his magic and what it might do to him, he puts on the amulet and smiles, assuring the Inquisitor nothing will change. The amulet is equipped and his class/spec do not change. If the Inquisitor was romancing him the romance can now be completed.

Option 3: If the Inquisitor responds disapprovingly (>I don't like secrets: "Anything else I should know? This is huge. Don't lie to me anymore." Vhen will respond defensively, telling the Inquisitor he's afraid of his magic, of what it will do to him, what he could do to others. He swears it won't be a problem, and that nothing will change. The conversation ends. The amulet is equipped by default and there is no option to change his class. Any prior romance flags are cleared and he can no longer be romanced.

If the Inquisitor had begun a romance path with Vhen, it and the cutscene ends with an added remark of: "Not everything, anyway. ...I'm sorry." He will not speak to the Inquisitor again until after The Final PIece is completed. ("Not now Inquisitor... please.") He will now only be found on the battlements beside Cullen’s office or in the library.

Tarot card change

Option 1: Six of Wands (he embraces his magic/the Inquisitor responded neutrally)

Option 2: Eight of Cups (he suppresses his magic/the Inquisitor refused to help)

Option 3: Nine of Cups (Romanced)

Banter:

Cole’s reflection on their thoughts:

(general) "A frown of disapproval, not at him, no, but he feels the weight of it, heavy on his shoulders. He’ll find comfort in dusty books tonight."

(before Things Better Left Unsaid) “He holds it inside himself. His chest aches with the burden of it all. I can’t tell them. I can’t let them know. No one can know." “Cole…?” (if the Inquisitor is a mage) “They would understand. They could help you. “No one can help me…” (if the Inquisitor is not a mage) “They can’t help you if they don’t know.” “No one can know.”

(after personal quest, the Inquisitor disapproved) “It hurts to breathe. He can’t meet their eyes. He shouldn’t be here. Anywhere but here. But there’s nowhere left to go.” “Stop it.”

(after personal quest, the Inquisitor was kind) “He’s so happy he could cry. The burden is no longer his alone to carry.” “(laughing) Who needs a journal when you have Cole?”

(after personal quest, Inquisitor was neutral) "It still hurts, but it's a good hurt. It isn't a secret anymore. He's going to be okay."

(if Vhen is unromanced) “He likes the feel of the wood under his fingertips, the taut pull of a string, the twang of an arrow. He wonders what another hand over his would feel like.”

(if the Inquisitor is romancing him) “Fingers firm around his wrist. Warm breath on his cheek. A laugh in his ear. He’s never been happier.”

(if another character romances Vhen) “Fingers firm around his wrist. Warm breath on his cheek. A laugh in his ear. These moments are stolen, but he’d never give this up.”

Comment(s) on Mages:

(after fighting apostates in the Witchwood) “What were they thinking?”

(after visiting Redcliffe) “Desperate people will do desperate things... Can’t say I blame them.”

(after recruiting the Mages) “Fiona seems… I don’t know. Lonely. Do you think I should talk to her? Or do you think that would annoy her?”

(in the future that wasn't) "Inquisitor? Inquisitor! You came back for me! I don't care if you're a demon or a fake. Please. Just get me out of here."

Comment(s) on Templars:

(after being recruited) “There were Templars camped not far from me. They seemed rattled. Are all Templars like that?”

(during champions of the just) “We don’t have Templars among the Dalish… Can you still be a templar without mages to guard?”

(after recruiting the Templars) “I thought Cullen was the good sort. I think it’s actually Barris. He’s nice. He seems sad, though.”

When looking for something:

“Oh! I think I found something.”

“There’s something there…”

“Look here.”

When finding a campsite:

“Good a place as any.”

“Can we make camp here?”

“I miss the Aravels…”

When the Inquisitor Falls:

“Inquisitor!!”

“Man/woman down! Man/woman down!”

“Get up! Please get up!”

When they are low on Health:

“I don’t feel too good.”

“(swears in Elven)”

“Inquisitor, help!”

When they see a Dragon:

“Oh that’s… that’s big.”

“I don’t want to fight that. Tell me we’re not going to fight that.”

(If The Iron Bull is in the party) “(groan) We’re going to fight that, aren’t we?”

When during their small side quest:

“Now I know what you’re thinking. Those silly elves, lost in their forests…”

“We’ve got their trail. Not far now, I reckon.”

“(if the Inquisitor is an elf) Once we’re done here, Inquisitor… I was thinking we could have my friends send word to yours. You know. Just to let them know how you’re doing. Just a thought…”

“(if the Inquisitor is human) You don’t know how much this means to me that you’re helping. Thank you.”

Default saying: (greeting the Inquisitor)

(general) “Oh, hey Inquisitor. I was just thinking… Nevermind. What do you need?”

(if Qunari) “Have you and The Iron Bull compared heights yet? (if Adaar is male) Actually… nevermind.”

(if Dalish) “Do you ever get homesick?”

(if human, approval high) “You’re a lot nicer than most humans I’ve met.”

(if human, approval low) “You’re a terrible example of humans, you know…”

(if approval is very low, any race) “(irritated) What?”

(if romanced) “I was just thinking about you. I’m always thinking about you, actually.”

(if romanced) “(obvious delight) My favorite person.”

(if romanced by someone else): “...don’t even know their favorite color… huh? Hey, Inquisitor.”

Travel Banter with Canon Companions:

Dorian: You should really take me up on my offer. Vhen: I am not letting you dress me up, Dorian. Dorian: At least let me replace that ratty scarf of yours. Vhen: Ratty…? You take that back!

Solas: Are you aware of what your name means? Vhen: Huh? Solas: 'Vhenan'. It is Elven for 'heart' or 'love'. Someone must have loved you to give you such a name." Vhen: Hmm.

(If Sera is present) Vhen: Hey, Solas? Solas: Yes, Vhenan? Sera: (snickers) Solas: (pause)... I see. Sera: Blackwall owes me two silver!

(if romanced by the Inquisitor) Varric: You’re staring again. Vhen: You’re staring too if you noticed. Varric: You won’t even deny it? Vhen: (morosely) I can’t help it! He/She’s right there!

(if romanced by someone other than the inquisitor) Sera: Saw you two kissing again. Vhen: Shut up. Sera: (cackles) You shut up.

(if Vhen chose to repress his magic) Vhen: Stop it. Vivienne: Hm? Stop what? Vhen: Staring at me. Judging me. Stop it. Vivienne: (aloof) I don’t know what you’re talking about. Vhen: (inaudible grumbling)

(if Vhen chose to embrace his magic) Cole: He doesn’t hate you, you know. Vhen: You know that for sure, do you? Cole: You make him nervous. He doesn’t like things that make him nervous. Vhen: Dislike is the opposite of like, and is much closer to hate than you think.

Cassandra: Elf— Vhenan. Tell me. What were you doing alone in the Hinterlands? I thought elves travel in packs. Vhen: Clans. My clan avoids humans as much as possible. The Inquisition is made up of a lot of humans. Cassandra: And so they let you go alone. Vhen: I just want to help. Is that so wrong? Cassandra: No. It is brave.

Leaving the Inquisition: (if approval is very low, and the Inquisitor killed the ancient elves): “I put up with a lot, Inquisitor, but you’ve gone too far. (if the Inquisitor is human) I shouldn’t be surprised though. You really are just a … a shem. (if the Inquisitor is an Elf) They were our people! Centuries may separate us from them but they were still elves. How could you?! (If the Inquisitor is Qunari or a Dwarf) I wouldn’t expect someone like you to understand, though.”

#inquisitor as a companion #dragon age #vhenan lavellan

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theharellan · 3 years

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Solas Fan Banter

Here’s a compilation of the fan banter I’ve written over the years between Solas and other canon Dragon Age characters, posted for Dragon Age Day 2020. There are references to a canon divergent Solas/nb!Lavellan companion romance. I’ve regretfully not written any Iron Bull banter that I’m proud enough of to feature here, but if anyone has any suggestions for topics I’d be glad to hear them.

Featured characters: Solas, Cassandra, Varric, Sera, Blackwall, Vivienne, Dorian, Cole, Morrigan, Cullen, Leliana, Valta, Renn, and Arcane Advisor Merrill!

Solas & Cassandra

(after receiving the quest Agrarian Apostate)

Cassandra: And he was not even a mage. Shameful. Solas: Would have it been justified if he was? Cassandra: The Templars have sanction to punish apostates. It would not have been beyond their authority. Solas: I would not call that justified, merely legal. Cassandra: The Templars should be better. Solas: The Chantry armed them and gave them an enemy. That might fuel an army, but will only serve to poison their minds against innocent people, apostates or no.

Solas & Varric

(after killing the Templars during the quest Agrarian Apostate)

Varric: I thought at least away from Kirkwall I could get away from crazy Templars. Solas: You believe they were mad? The men I saw were no different from those who confronted us in Val Royeaux.

(after delivering the ring)

Solas: She seems to be holding up well, considering. Varric: Yeah, but I know a front when I see one. Solas: You believe she was suffering more than she let on? Varric: Oh, I know it, Chuckles. That ring might comfort her when the country gets too quiet, but it won’t dry her tears or– shit, do much else, really. Solas: Some wounds only time heal. Varric: And they always seem to leave ugly scars.

(after beginning Here Lies the Abyss)

Solas: You found Hawke after all. Varric: Oh, you know. All those heroics jogged my memory. Solas: Naturally. Varric: What, you going to lay into me, too? Solas: No, no. I understand why you hesitated. (if Hawke is a mage) Solas: To involve her in a Chantry organisation would not have been wise, at least before it had a chance to prove itself. (otherwise) Solas: Given her involvement in this war, I can only imagine there are those on both sides who would blame her for their present predicament. Varric: You mind telling all that to Cassandra? Solas: I would prefer not to.

(after Here Lies the Abyss, if Hawke is left behind)

Solas: I have read your book, you know. The Tale of the Champion. Varric: I don’t know if now’s the best time. Solas: I understand. I only wanted to say that in reading it, I felt your affection for Hawke in every word. I am... sorry, for what happened. Varric: Thanks, Chuckles. Solas: Of course.

(after Here Lies the Abyss, if Hawke survives)

Solas: You said your farewells to Hawke? Varric: Sure did. Sent letters home, debated sending letters to Weisshaupt. The Wardens will need to know the storm coming their way. Solas: You believe Hawke will pose a problem? Varric: Well, maybe not on purpose.

(in the Hissing Wastes, while exploring dwarven ruins)

Varric: I’m surprised you’re not hounding me about how all this makes me feel, Chuckles. Solas: I had thought we established your disinterest. Varric: Yeah, well. I’m thinking about it, anyway. Solas: If you insist. How does this make you feel, Varric? Varric: There’s a tiny part of me that’s really satisfied, you know? Seeing a Paragon of all people living on the Surface, then the rest of me just doesn’t give a shit. Solas: Tradition is a difficult thing to shake, to be conflicted is expected. Do you think our discovery here ought to be shared with Orzammar? Varric: I don’t know about Orzammar, but I can think of a few Surface dwarves who’d be interested in this.

Solas & Sera

Solas: I could not help but notice what you were drawing at breakfast. Sera: What? I wasn’t drawing anything.

(if Sera is romanced)

Solas: You captured our Inquisitor’s likeness well. Sera: Better than you could.

(otherwise)

Solas: There was no mistaking Dagna’s likeness. What were you carrying? Sera: A bowblade. It’s not a thing yet, but if anyone can make one, Widdle can.

Solas: Have you ever given thought to collaborating together on a piece? Sera: Collaber-what? Piece of what? Solas: A painting, or a drawing if you prefer, what medium you decide upon makes little difference to me. Sera: You really think the two of us could work together on anything? Solas: I was under the impression we had been. Sera: That’s different. The Inquisition’s not an ‘us’ thing, or it is, but not us us.

Sera: Say if I wanted to make something with you, what’d we even make? Solas: You ask the question as if there are limitations. Sera: A dragon, then! No, wait, a butt! (beat) Sera: Nothing? Not even a nose wrinkle? Solas: I am not unopposed to the idea. Sera: Ugh, how can you even make butts boring?

Sera: (handing him a drawing) Here, made you something. Solas: What is this? Are those—shoes? Sera: That’s right. One for each toe. You’re welcome.

(After Solas initiates a relationship with Ian)

Sera: So, you and Freckles, huh? Interesting. Solas: Your interest is not my concern. Sera: I always figured you’d wind with someone who’d make the bumping bits matter. Y’know, drop ‘em and rebuild the empire. Solas: It is not the physical product of our love that matters so much as how he makes me feel when I’m with him. Sera: Eugh.

(If Ian is in the party)

Ian: (laughingly) Vhenan, I would choose your words more carefully next time. Solas: Oh. (slightly embarrassed) I did not mean it like that. Sera: Ha! I’ve made him blush. Solas: This is why I didn’t wish to discuss it.

Solas & Blackwall

(While near Ferb’s old fishing pier in the Exalted Plains)

Blackwall: Wonder if the fishing’s good. If we had an hour or two… Solas: Do you consider yourself an angler, Blackwall? Blackwall: I wouldn’t go that far, but I do enjoy the sport of it. Solas: I’ve never considered it a sport. Blackwall: Probably because you’ve never gone fishing just for the fun of it. Next time we make camp, I’ll show you.

Inquisitor: So, how’d your fishing expedition go? Blackwall: You should’ve seen the size of the gar I wrangled. Solas: It was not half as impressive as he believes. Blackwall: He only says that because all’s he caught were minnows. Solas: (scoffs) Inquisitor: So... where is it? Blackwall: We threw it back, of course. Wasn’t like we were going to eat it. Solas: A convenient excuse.

(Along the Storm Coast)

Blackwall: Ever heard of the pale ship that appears on the mists? The Windy Marcher – I think that’s what they called it. Solas: I cannot say I have. Blackwall: An old story, no idea where it started. Must’ve heard it a dozen times in the Free Marches, always a different ending. Solas: As is often the case with legends, the content and moral changes with the teller. Blackwall: One man claimed he’d seen it himself, said the ship was captained by beautiful spirits who’d called him to the sea. Solas: A case of wishful thinking, I assume. Blackwall: He was a bit of a lonely bastard.

(After Revelations)

Solas: You and Cole seem more friendly, of late. Thom: He took some getting used to, but his heart’s in the right place. There’s enough darkness in the world without pushing away the good. Solas: I imagine it was chilling, knowing he could break your cover on a whim. Thom: That did keep me up some nights, yes. Sometimes I wonder why he didn’t say anything. Solas: Perhaps he saw in you what the Inquisitor sees. Thom: Well, I’m grateful. On both counts.

Solas & Vivienne

(After the events of Bring Me the Heart of Snow White)

Solas: I heard the news of Duke De Ghislain’s death. As I understand it, the two of you were close. My condolences for your loss. (if the Inquisitor gave Vivienne a regular wyvern’s heart) Vivienne: (coldly) There was a chance at saving him, but he is beyond saving, now. At least, by mortal hands. Solas: Then I am all the sorrier. (otherwise) Vivienne: He was at peace, and we had the chance to meet at least one last chance before he passed. Solas: Be thankful for that closure, it will bring you comfort in the days to come. Vivienne: It already has.

Solas: How do you feel about the moniker ‘Madame de Fer?’ Vivienne: Oh, I think it’s darling. Why do you ask? Solas: Iron is cold, unyielding without the proper tools, some may use it as an insult rather than a mark of respect. Vivienne: Of that I’ve no doubt, but let them. I embraced it wholeheartedly, and from then on no one could ever truly use it against me. Solas: True enough, such a tactic has worked for others before.

Vivienne: You will be wearing shoes to the ball, won’t you? Solas: My comfort is not worth jeopardizing the Inquisition’s image, so yes. Vivienne: Many elven servants in Orlais go barefoot, it would hardly be a scandal. Still, it would be beneficial. We must all present as a unit when the time comes, not a single hair out of place. Solas: That will hardly pose a problem for the two of us. Vivienne: (makes a sound almost like a laugh) Right you are.

Solas: There are rumours that your name be put forward as the next Divine. Vivienne: I wonder who might have started those. Solas: After all that has happened these past few months, you believe it possible they will accept a mage into their fold? (if the Inquisitor completed In Hushed Whispers / is a mage) Vivienne: Whyever not? Magic is what solved the problem, after all. Solas: Magic has solved countless problems over the centuries, and yet it is still reviled. Vivienne: I am not any ordinary mage. If any mage can achieve status of Divine, I am she. Solas: On that, we agree. (if the Inquisitor completed Champions of the Just and is a non-mage) Vivienne: With the Inquisitor’s support there is nothing I cannot accomplish, my dear.

Vivienne: The Inquisitor gave you that hood not half a day ago and it already has a hole in it. Solas: Two, in fact. Vivienne: Are you afraid we’ll forget you’re an elf if we go five minutes without seeing your ears? Solas: My estimation of your abilities is not that low, Enchanter, and I would be careful were I you. Two holes cut in a hood is not nearly as desperate as donning a pair of horns every morning.

(After Ian is made Tranquil during his personal quest)

Vivienne: I hope you know what you are doing, my dear. The Rite of Tranquility is not something easily undone. Solas: As I understand it, the Seekers did it quite regularly. Vivienne: And through a far gentler process. What they did to Ian was barbaric, but undoing it is not necessarily a kindness. One might even call it selfish. Solas: I never made any claim to selflessness. Vivienne: Go through with it, and he will relive what happened to him every morning and night for the rest of his life. Solas: (with restrained anger) Do not pretend as though you suddenly care for his well-being now, you showed little regard for him before. Vivienne: It is a warning, nothing more. Solas: Your warning is heeded, but it changes nothing. I am under no illusion this will be simple, but to give up on him now— I would be no better than the Circle that once wanted this same fate for him.

Solas & Dorian

Dorian: That book you have on your desk, Solas… Solas: There are many. Which are you referring to? Dorian: There’s one that looked to be in Ancient Tevene. Do you speak it, or are you just keeping it around to look clever? Solas: I would not go so far as to say I speak it, but I understand it well enough. Dorian: How did you go about learning it? Solas: Memories of Tevinter’s empire litter the land, there is hardly a place in Thedas where the world does not remember it, and with memories come language. Dorian: So you learned through the Fade? Solas: I did, though my pronunciation leaves something to be desired. An unfortunate consequence of learning any language alone. Dorian: I might be able to help, but only if you give me the satisfaction of hearing you muddle through it out loud beforehand. Also, I’ll be next in line when you’ve finished reading that book of yours. Solas: (snorts) Very well.

Solas & Cole

Cole: So they’re nobody, but somebody. Empty shells, filled with someone else’s memory. Solas: For the most part, it seems. Cole: If they’re heartless, why are they so angry? Solas: Perhaps it was not so much the absence of feeling, but the lack of recognition of said feelings. Cole: Belief makes them real, even if they’ll always be different.

Cole: It remembered. Delight in discovery, always pushing further into the unknown— someone like that does not simply disappear, and yet... it cannot remember his name. Solas: Names are not so as important as the spirit of the person they belong to. Cole: It remembered the person. Sadder, but stronger. If I ever return to the Fade, I would like to meet it. Solas: Nothing would delight it more. Cole: Oh, I know. I think we’d be friends.

(After the banter where Solas helps prevent a panic attack)

Cole: You breathe in— one, two, three, four— then out— one, two, three, four— feel the grass beneath your feet, magic between your fingers, remember what is and what was. How long did it take you to learn? Solas: More time than is ideal. Cole: I’m sorry. Solas: There is some comfort in knowing I’ve learned enough to help others with such struggles. Cole: I’ll count with you, if you need. Solas: Thank you, Cole.

Solas: I’m curious how your efforts are coming along since we last spoke. Cole: Josephine misses how saffron tastes, but she hasn’t asked the chef to purchase any. I wrote it on a list when no one was watching. Cullen doesn’t like my letters. He says they don’t make sense. Solas: I cannot imagine he devoted much time to understanding them. Cole: No. Listening is... difficult, when you’ve been taught not to.

Cole: Eyes fall shut, but they do not drift away. Their feet are tethered, tied to the ground. Solas: Even dwarves who lived and died on the Surface never dreamed. Cole: But they are still remembered. The song drowns out their thoughts, but it does not smother them. If I listen, I can hear. Solas: I have seen fewer glimpses of dwarven history than I would like, but there are always memories preserved by particular attentive spirits.

(When passing through the kitchen, or lingering nearby. Solas stands over the stove and Cole sits on a nearby counter, hitting his leg against the wood.)

Solas: Would you like to try it, Cole? Cole: Would it not be a waste? I don’t need to eat. Solas: To overindulge, perhaps. A taste will do you nor the world any harm, a good meal is about more than survival. Cole: Then I’d like to try it, please.

Cole: You don’t have to eat, Solas. Solas: Strictly speaking, no. Cole: Sometimes you do anyway. Solas: When the urge takes me, or if refusing would be seen as ill-mannered.

Solas: If I could ask for your opinion, Cole. Cole: It remembers the garden. The sun bakes it red, colour working through it like a blush upon a maiden’s cheeks. Solas: Excellent. And this? Cole: It was lost in weeds for weeks, neglected and forgotten. It tastes like oversteeped tea. Solas: I see. Then we will find another.

Cole: And it remembers the ocean? Solas: It knows the mountain streams and rocky coasts as well as any well-seasoned traveller, though the paths it takes are laid with smoother stones. Cole: Rough edges wicked away by river waters. Soft enough to stand on without any shoes. Solas: Though one must still take care not to fall. (optional) Inquisitor: Speaking from personal experience, Solas? Solas: I suppose one might say that. Cole: Feet forget the ground, flying out from beneath him, but the rest of him doesn’t follow. Solas: (tinged with embarrassment) As I said. Inquisitor: (chuckles) (otherwise) Cole: But you always get up again.

Solas & Cullen

Cullen: I’m curious how you’ve avoided Templars all these years. Solas: I would prefer not to say. Cullen: I’m no longer a Templar, you know. Solas: Then why do you still wear their heraldry? Or am I mistaken? Cullen: I… Solas: Templar or no, your support for its cause endures. I would not endanger fellow apostates by revealing our methods.

Solas: Master Tethras tells me you served in Kirkwall. Cullen: Varric has no shortage of stories, that one just so happens to be true. Why do you bring it up? Solas: My travels have taken me there, on occasion. Cullen: I admit, I’m curious what your impression was. Solas: All the world is steeped in tragedy, but in Kirkwall the Fade overflows with it. Spells flow from the fingertips with such ease you may forget the Veil altogether. Cullen: That doesn’t surprise me, the amount of abominations I saw during my years there… Solas: They were but a symptom. Kirkwall’s sickness ran deeper than what any one spirit could cure.

Solas & Leliana

Solas: I have heard the Inquisition call you many titles. Sister, Nightingale, Spymaster. Leliana: I have worn many masks, some I’ve liked more than others. Why do you mention it? Solas: Which do I refer to you by? Leliana: (laughs) Whichever you prefer. You may use Leliana, if you wish. Solas: Then I shall see which suits you best.

Solas & Josephine

Josephine: It took several tries, but we managed to remove the wine stain from your sweater. I apologise again for Lady Vérène’s indiscretion. Solas: The fault is hardly yours. It is a pity she is not more open to an apostate’s perspective, but the loss is hers. Extend my sincere gratitude to whoever expunged the mark. I have only a few shirts to my name. Josephine: You know, Solas, now that the Inquisition finds itself in more favourable circumstances, we can afford to purchase you a new wardrobe. Solas: With respect, Ambassador, I value comfort over style. I’m uncertain the Summer Bazaar will be able to accommodate me. Josephine: It would be a most... unusual request, but I believe I know the tailor for the job.

Josephine: Have you found the library to your liking? Solas: I have. I cannot imagine any other circumstance where someone like me could have such unmitigated access to the written word. Most human libraries are not so liberal with their guests. Josephine: I confess, I have never been without books. Ever since I was a child they were always within reach. Solas: Then you must have recommendations. Josephine: One or two come to mind. If I can secure faithful translations, you will have them.

Solas & Morrigan

Solas: You seem well-versed in courtly manners for a woman raised in the wilderness. Morrigan: What are you implying? Solas: That you have a talent for winding nobles around your finger, or that the infamous ‘game’ is not so deadly as they like to believe. Vivienne: Or that more talented souls paved the wave for her. Solas: Another possibility. Morrigan: ‘Tis true that Orlesians overestimate the challenge of this ‘Game’ of theirs. Empress Celene had her desires, and ‘twas a simple matter to keep her satisfied. Vivienne: Which is why you’re with us. Morrigan: With you at my side, I could not help but notice. Vivienne: Believe me, dear. Court enchanter is a trifle compared to where my sights have set.

Solas: I found your son atop the rotunda’s scaffolding today. Morrigan: He has long been fond of climbing, and Skyhold’s trees are too new to bear his weight. Solas: It was no harm. My only regret is I did not have an answer to every question he asked. He is a curious boy. Morrigan: (laughs) That he is.

(During What Pride Had Wrought, upon finding the mosaic of June)

Morrigan: Ah, clever June. The most elusive of the elven gods, insofar as legends are concerned. Solas: Their silence is deafening. Morrigan: I take it you have insight? Solas: Merely that he does not deserve what little credit he is given. Time has forgotten the name of whosoever built the first aravel.

Solas: Rumour spread that Kieran went missing. I trust your presence here means you have found him? Morrigan: I… yes. Solas: He is unharmed? Morrigan: Yes. Solas: Then I am glad. And… you? Morrigan: I have much to think upon, but my son is safe. Everything else can come after.

Solas & Renn

Solas: Tell me, Lieutenant, why did you remain with the Legion? Renn: Having trouble seeing why it’s your business. Why d’you ask? Solas: Escaping would be a simple matter of finding the right battle to slip away from. Freedom would only be a few day’s journey from where we stand. Renn: I couldn’t abandon my men... or my city. Solas: You show great loyalty to Orzammar, considering you will never see it again. Renn: Yeah, well. You never forget your home. Solas: No. I suppose you don’t.

Solas & Valta

Solas: “But the truth is the truth— no matter how political it may be.” Valta: Do you disagree? Solas: Just the opposite. The truth does not change with our ability to stomach it. I am glad a historian such as yourself agrees. Valta: A shame the rest of the Shaperate doesn’t agree with us. Solas: True, but if they had you would not be here, on the brink of uncovering secrets buried centuries ago. In their attempt to keep you out of the way, they unknowingly set you upon the path to even greater knowledge. Valta: Orzammar will know the truth. If I don’t make it, then the Inquisitor— Solas: You are not yet dead, Shaper Valta. Do not count yourself apart from the living so soon.

Solas & Merrill

Merrill: You snort when you laugh. Solas: I’m well-aware. If you are about to ask me to stop, I’m afraid I’ve tried before. Merrill: Oh, it’s not a bad thing. It might be the most charming thing about you. Solas: Damned by faint praise. Merrill: It is a very charming laugh.

Solas: Why did you leave your clan? I read Varric’s Tale of the Champion, but I suspect most of it was a lie. (if present) Varric: Hey! I’m right here. Solas: You did well to lie. To name her as a Dalish mage would be to paint a target upon her back. (otherwise) Merill: I left… I— it wasn’t exactly my choice. There was a mirror, tainted by the Blight. I thought we should fix it, even if it meant turning to blood magic. My Keeper disagreed. Solas: You cleansed the Blight from an eluvian? That is remarkable. Merrill: I used to wonder if it was worth it. I sacrificed so much to get it working, years of my life, my— I’m just glad we’re getting use out of it, now.

Merrill: You’re wrong about my people, Solas. The Dalish aren’t as lost as you think. Solas: They cast you to the streets of Kirkwall, exiled you for the crime of pursuing the duty they tasked you with. Merrill: Some of them said such awful things, they looked at me like I was already a demon, but… that doesn’t mean there isn’t good, too. Sometimes I wonder, had my Keeper not been so against me, if things might have been different. Merrill: I don’t know what they said to you, but I know what their scorn feels like. It hurts, but… there’s so much to admire. Solas: You still feel for them. Merrill: They’re my people, they always will be. No matter how much they might hate me, I’ll always love them. Solas: Put like that, I suppose I understand the sentiment. Merrill: It’s a lonely feeling, isn’t it? Solas: It never ebbs, no. Merrill: Then just— remember them, when you think unkind thoughts about the Dalish. The people you miss, the people you don’t, and what you’d sacrifice for them both.

(in the Exalted Plains, outside the boundaries of Hawen’s camp)

Merrill: (giggles) Datishan was asking about you before we left. Solas: Datishan… Hawen’s little hunter? Merrill: Who else? She wanted to know when you’d be back. Solas: What did you tell her? Merrill: I told her you needed time, that good stories don’t grow on trees. You will go back, won’t you? Solas: It seems I shall have to, or else suffer the wrath of her arrows. Merrill: You joke, but she almost poked out my eye last night. Solas: (chuckles)

#dragonageday #solas #dragon age #dragon4geday #unofficialdragonageday #dragon age inquisition #fan banter #dare to be in the company of those stronger than you ( banter )#( my writing )#[ i'll be reposting the couple new things i wrote for this later ]#[ scheduled post ]

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mythal-and-the-titans · 3 years

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My DA story

I bought Dragon Age: Inquisition on sale a couple of years ago. I had seen someone stream it and thought it looked nice - I liked that there seemed to be a lot of interaction between the player and the NPCs. I have an amazing talent for procrastination though, and didn’t play it for a long time. I bought Dragon Age: Origins, and started to play it, but my computer couldn’t cope with the old graphics and I didn’t understand what the story was about. I think I got to Redcliffe before I gave up.

I started to play DA:I. I LOVED it. I had no idea what I was doing, just pressing buttons and saying “NOO! THAT’S NOT WHAT I WANTED TO DO!!!” But I loved it. I was doing a quest with Solas and Viv in my party when Vivienne said “you sound like a pride demon” (to Solas) and I said OH SHIT HE’S NOT A NORMAL ELF, googled it and spoiled the whole thing for myself. Didn’t matter. Played it over and over again, never really focusing on my character, just the NPC’s. I romanced Cullen several times. I went back to Origins and played with the help of a guide I found. I broke my own heart by romancing softened Alistair but letting Loghain join the Wardens (Natia would never choose romance before redemption ok). I mended the wounds by romancing Zevran.

I joined a server that ended up being super messy. Every time I went online people were discussing some fight that happened when I was offline. I left. I hanged out on Tumblr, but was annoyed by the posts I read (I hadn’t yet learned to curate my own online experience and block people.....good shit, I recommend it). I wrote some rant about it, @noire-pandora commented and invited me to BTV. Met some lovely people who just wanted to share their love for DA. I bought DA2 (which I had avoided until then because I hadn’t heard anything good about it, but people I talked to at this point said they liked it). It was great. I romanced Merill because she is the cutest, sweetest thing I’ve ever come across.

That’s where I’m at now I guess? I’m supposed to be reading The Stolen Throne but I find it so incredibly hard to read these days. My brain is just useless mush sometimes, but I think I hold myself to ridiculous standards and need to be more realistic. A new goal of mine is to read one chapter/weekend. I think that’s doable.

Anyway, a big thank you to every creator and gamer out there who keeps sharing their stories, their art and their time. You’re the best!

#dragon age #dragon age day

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kathyprior4200 · 3 years

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Zoophobia: The Remix

All characters, art, and settings belong to Vivziepop/Vivienne Medrano, no copyright intended. https://zoophobiacomic.com/

Chapter One: “Cameron’s Early Years”

“Greetings. My name is Salvia, a human staff member at Zoo Phoenix Academy. Don’t mind my thick red hair, it often covers my face. I love romance films and novels and I play violin. I also have extensive knowledge of psychic powers and prophecy. Me having existed since ancient times could explain it.”

“Let me tell you an incredible, albeit bizarre story about the world I’m from. It is what mortals call ’Zoophobia.’ First, a provenance about said world…”

“Safe Haven…it is a sanctuary, an oasis for animals, anthropomorphic beings and other creatures. The Zoo Phoenix Academy is part of it. We sustain ourselves here…and serve as a utopia and protected escape for all kinds of creatures that are ostracized by the human-dominated world beyond the Oceania Forest. That is why there are so few humans here.”

“Safe Haven is split into seven districts and each district has an important purpose and contributes to the society as a whole. The Animal District, Capital City, the wealthy E! District, Marine District, Avian District, the Farming District and the District of Magic. (Do not go to Xirxine Labs, they do horrible experiments on beings deemed ‘troublesome.’) Pacts were made and spells were cast to prohibit malevolent forces from entering the boundaries of Safe Haven. But to maintain the peace and tranquility of this thriving culture, very specific rules were put into effect by the original peacekeepers who founded Safe Haven.”

“Evil forces include evil spirits, rogue vampires, true demons, and blood hunters. (And don’t forget many of the entitled angels in Heaven, they can be deceiving.) The laws here are strict and they keep the dangers out, while keeping the citizens inside and safe. But this is why no living being is permitted to leave for good. It goes against the pacts that protect us. And breaking those pacts could lead to the corruption of the magic that shields us. Without magic, we would be at the mercy of not only dark monsters, but also outside humans who have wanted to hunt us all down. We would be overcome with the dark forces that have been wanting to enter Safe Haven for centuries.”

“Safe Haven has not had a violent crime or a dangerous predator in years, and we do everything we can to keep it that way. But one circumstance changed all that we knew.”

“This story first begins in the human world…and follows an ordinary female by the name of Cameron Walden…”

0 0 0

“Are you ready to go, sweetheart?”

“Coming, mommy!”

A jubilant fair-haired girl jumped for joy before dragging her small suitcase behind her down the hall. She was around six years old and her hair was slightly messy. Her golden-brown-haired mother looked at her with loving eyes.

“What will we do on our camping trip today?” little Cameron asked eagerly.

“Hmm,” she said. “Last year we went canoeing at the lake and made crafts out of sticks. Remember when we roasted marshmallows under the stars?”

“Oh yes!” Cameron said. “Those snores were delicious!”

“I think you mean s’mores,” her mother chuckled. “Your face and hands were so sticky afterwards. You looked like a goopy little monster.” She playfully pinched her cheeks and made a funny face as Cameron giggled.

“But I’m thinking this year, we’ll do some of your favorite activities. I know how much you enjoy fishing.”

“Oh yay!” Cameron cheered. “I remember daddy catching at least two. And I got to feel their smooth scaly skin. Glad he let them go at the end.”

“He might teach you this time. But you’ll have to be patient.”

“Don’t worry, I will…maybe.”

Her mother chuckled again. “Let’s go, your dad is waiting for us.”

Cameron’s father also had white skin and golden brown hair, except he had a scruffy beard that he often let Cameron feel. His eyes were kind and thoughtful and a Christian cross necklace hung around his neck. All of them wore casual jeans, brown hiking shoes and shirts of gray.

Soon, Cameron and her family piled into their car and Cameron’s father drove them through the city streets. The city was dull and gray, reminiscent of New York City but without the splendor. But even the smoggy city didn’t deter Cameron’s excitement. During the long drive to the woods, Cameron and her family sang some songs, played I Spy and that game where you call out a word and then have to call another word that starts with the end letter.

“Salad,” said Cameron’s father.

“Diver,” said her mother.

“River,” Cameron said.

“Ratable,” said her father.

“Uh, lion!” said her mother.

“Ha! You lose!” said her father.

“No fair! Ratable has a silent ‘e.’ You cheated!”

Her father just shrugged playfully and winked at Cameron before focusing back on the road.

“Why’d I space out like that?” her mother mumbled.

They entered through the woods, trees surrounding either side as they rushed by. The dullness of the city faded behind them as greenery whizzed to life as they drove.

“Have you ever thought about what you want to be when you grow up?” her mother asked.

“I don’t know,” Cameron answered. “But I do want to help people and make the world a better place!”

“Great spirit you have there,” her father remarked. “Anything in particular?”

“Maybe…a counselor! Or a zookeeper! Or maybe a marine biologist! Surely it can’t be that hard comforting animals and humans the same!”

“Well,” her mother began. “I know how much you love animals, especially fish. But humans are more…complex creatures. You need to have good listening skills in order to start. And…” she said in a singsong voice, “That means making friends!”

Cameron groaned. She was quite shy, even in her youth.

“I know it can be hard,” said her mother. “But you can’t expect to be alone forever. There are so many different individuals out there. And it’s true some of them may be...strange at first glance."

“What if they…don’t like me or hurt me?”

“No one would hurt you,” she said. “If they did, I’d make them run for the hills. Plus no one could possibly dislike such a sweet angel like yourself. Just take it one step at a time. You’ll find someone special to love. And I know you will be confident and successful one day, whatever you decide to do.”

Cameron smiled at the thought as they continued down a dirt path. Her mother had always wanted her to be happy above all else. The car swayed and bounced as they went deeper in. At last, they found their favorite camping spot and parked. It was a pleasant area with a few pine trees, a wooden bench and a small ledge overlooking a nearby lake. As Cameron’s father pitched the tent and gathered wood, Cameron and her mother gazed at the nearby lake. Sunlight shimmered and sparkled on the water, mesmerizing Cameron. A few ducks quacked off to the side and horsetail reeds swayed in the cool breeze. A dragonfly zoomed in and out among the reeds, occasionally touching the liquid surface. It was a relief to get away from the city and into the much cleaner fresh air.

After a fun day of hiking (Cameron identified several types of leaves and tracks), hide and seek (Cameron climbed a small tree but was found anyway) and fishing (Cameron caught one small fish), they had an early evening dinner over the fire. Cameron inhaled the scent of sizzling bratwurst and hamburgers as the meat cooked. A few stars had already appeared as the sun painted the sky orange and gold. The meat was delicious and slightly overcooked. Then they had s’mores for dessert.

“Aw man,” groaned her father as he stared at his blackened marshmallow on a stick, “I overdid mine.” Then he grinned playfully and proceeded to eat it.

“Gross!” Cameron remarked with a face. “How can you eat that?”

“A marshmallow is a marshmallow,” he said with a shrug.

Cameron’s marshmallow was a perfect golden brown in between the chocolate pieces and graham crackers. Cameron’s mother had her marshmallow plain white.

After the satisfying meal, Cameron was eager to explore some more. “Can we go on a quick hike, Dad?” she asked. “It’s not as hot now.” A refreshing breeze caressed her skin.

Her dad nodded. “There’s still some light out. We can look around and gaze at the stars too.”

“Just don’t go too far,” added her mother. “And take a flashlight with you.”

“See you shortly,” called her father as he took Cameron’s hand and began their nightly hike. Cameron’s mother waved with a smile while sitting on a log and finishing her dinner. The fire crackled brightly.

By now, the sky has turned a dark indigo. The moonlight lit the path in front of them but they were still careful not to trip over any stray sticks, holes or rocks. Along the way, they spotted a rabbit, several squirrels, and even a stag hidden among the trees. The natural world was a wondrous place for Cameron. She and her father eventually relaxed on a cool boulder, naming the various constellations above them.

“This is the best camping trip ever, Dad!” Cameron smiled.

“It sure has been lots of fun, kiddo,” her father smiled. For a while, they let themselves be mesmerized by the twinkling stars and the comforting sound of the still night air. Then all too soon, he sat up and said, “We should head on back. After all, an overnight sleepover never gets old.”

“Yeah, let’s go!” said Cameron. She let out a yawn and was looking forward to being warm in her cozy sleeping bag. They got off the rock and walked back hand in hand.

As they wondered the trails back toward camp, the forest was quiet. Eerily quiet. There were no bird songs or bugs or even the swaying of the wind. Even with the flashlight and moonlight, it grew much darker than before. Cameron grew silent and scooted closer to her father as they walked. A prickling feeling crept up to her neck…she felt like something was watching her. With every snap of a twig or rustle of leaves, she flinched slightly.

“Are there m-monsters out here?” she asked, almost in a whisper.

“Don’t be concerned. Other than the devil and wild animals, monsters don’t exist. Everything is fine,” her father assured her.

Cameron grew less and less convinced as they continued their trek. Shadows flickered and warped this way and that, a trick of the eyes. Cameron whimpered softly. Something tall loomed up ahead. A large tree was in front of them, larger than the other trees around. It looked like an ancient oak tree with hanging branches and a worn down trunk. Cyan fog surrounded the tree and the area, giving it an enigmatic and ominous feel.

A low hooting sound came from nearby. Cameron glanced at a black hole in the tree, at her eye-level. A smaller branch stuck off to the side of it. She peered inside and didn’t see anything.

But then…a pair of glowing yellow eyes blinked from inside. And a white owl emerged onto the branch! She shined her flashlight at it and it didn’t flinch. Just stared intently.

Cameron had never seen such a majestic creature before. It had white feathers, tiny black spots on its coat and a sharp hooked beak. But there was something peculiar about this owl. Looking closely, Cameron could make out zig-zag yellow stripes down the front of its body. And its eyes…they were big and yellow like an owl’s but seemed…older. Instead of being a single color, the large orbs glowed yellow with dark stripes like a bumblebee. It almost appeared as if the lines in the eyes were moving. Strange small jagged eyelashes jutted out from the sides of the orbs. The owl eyed Cameron like she was an innocent mouse; she did not like the look at all.

Cameron blinked and for a millisecond, she saw a bizarre being; what looked like a bird but with the head of a woman with white blonde hair and pale skin. Before she could comprehend what it was (a harpy), it had turned back into an owl in the blink of an eye. After letting out an ominous hoot, it vanished into the hole as Cameron’s father called her name. She hurried off to catch up to him.

Cameron shook her head, convinced it was just her fearful imagination. No owl would come out and look through her like that.

A strange sense of foreboding flowed through Cameron. She and her father quickened their pace.

Back at camp, a low growling sound grew steadily louder.

Growl. Crunch. Crunch. Tap. Tap. Tap.

The sounds of steps and shuffling grew closer. Cameron’s mother looked around, holding a bratwurst in one hand.

Grooooowwwlll….snort, snort.

Hot breath on neck. Snapping of twigs.

Cameron’s mother slowly turned around, meeting large dark eyes…

A scream echoed out into the night, almost paralyzing Cameron in her tracks.

“Dad?”

It was shrill and pleading…and then it rang out again.

Longer lasting screams and roars seemed to be coming from everywhere. The world seemed to be spinning.

“What was that?!” Cameron cried.

“I don’t know, but I have a feeling we need to get back,” said her father with concern. For the first time, he appeared sacred as well.

Without hesitation, her father grabbed hold of her hand and raced as fast as his legs could carry him. Cameron briefly tripped over a log but her father picked her up. A sudden gust of biting wind pushed against them, but they still ran. They flinched from the sudden cold and the dust that flew in their faces. It drowned out the screams until they faded away. The wind came to a howling peak and then halted as they reached the clearing.

Her father suddenly gasped and froze to a stop, Cameron almost bumping into him. His flashlight fell to the ground. There was the tangy smell of…Cameron figured it wasn’t the cooked dinner they had.

“Stay back, Cameron!” her father ordered sharply, pushing her behind him. “And don’t watch!”

But of course she did…then wished she hadn’t.

Standing over a figure in the dirt was a monstrous brown bear. The bear bared his sharp teeth, paw on its food, mouth caked with blood. Tearing and squelching was heard. Crimson splotches looked jarring in the limited light. And underneath the bear was…

“M-mom?!”

In one swift motion, her father retrieved a gun he had safely secured behind him and took aim.

Bang! Bang!

Several shots rang out, deafening like bombs. Cameron covered her ears and yelped. A primal bellow of protest followed. The bear roared one last time before bounding and stomping away. Bush leaves rustled as a few more shots rang out. Her father yelled curses and raced toward where the bear had left.

Creeping closer, Cameron sank to her knees and stared in disbelief. It was her mother…or what was left of her. Her face was ashen, dirty and pale, scratches all along her body. Her back and belly had disastrous bites, thick dark red blood oozing onto the grassy ground. Muscle and viscera were visible from the gashes.

Cameron turned her mother’s face around and was met with guttural heaving breaths. The unnatural agonizing kind right before death.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god…” Cameron muttered, voice cracking, eyes wide. “Somebody help! Help!” The smell made her gag, but she still stayed.

Her mother’s eyes fluttered. She slowly reached a pale shaking hand toward Cameron. Cameron moved closer as both their hands met. The cold clammy hand squeezed her little fingers.

“S-safe Haven…” she wheezed, staring long and hard into Cameron’s eyes. “You’ll do…g-great things. Unite them all. Stay safe, safe…”

“Mom, w-what do you mean? Safe Haven, what?”

“My a-angel…”

Her mother wheezed and croaked again before her hand went limp, letting go of Cameron’s fingers. Her mother gave her one last kind look before her eyes glazed over. She had stopped moving. Nothing but cold flesh, blood and a lifeless form.

“Mom? Mom! Mooooom!!!”

Cameron’s father pulled her back a bit. Without a word, Cameron’s father cradled his wife’s body as Cameron buried her face in her bloodstained clothes.

Her father pulled her back a bit after gently lowing her mother to the ground. He closed her eyes with his fingers. She looked like she was asleep, even though she wasn’t. (Or if she was, it was eternal and dreamless. Or maybe she was already in Heaven; Cameron didn’t know). Cameron and her father stood silently still, embracing each other. Tears rolled down their faces, Cameron’s primal sobs echoing through the night. Her hands were stained with leftover blood. After about ten minutes of utter grief, her father looked at her.

“Cameron, get in the car.”

“W-why?”

“Just do it.”

A sternness and aloofness look appeared on his face, a look Cameron had never seen him make in front of her. The bright color and spark in his eyes had been snuffed out. Without waiting for another answer, her father picked her up, carried her over to the car and placed her in the back seat. The door closed. From outside, the fire was put out, leaving only dying embers and sad orange sparks. The light gray smoke curled into spirals, doing somber dances in the breeze before vanishing.

Cameron waited in the back seat, curled up into a ball. She couldn’t believe what had just happened. Her mother had been mauled by a bear before her eyes…and she could’ve been next! The ruthless face of the bear would haunt her memories for many years. Not long after, she saw flashes of red and blue light through the dirt-spotted windows. Her mother’s body was covered by a white sheet and taken on a stretcher by medics who had driven by. Fortunately, they still had decent cell phone service. Without another word, her father packed up the tent and all their belongings, tossing them in the back. He got in the driver’s seat and took them home on a long solemn drive.

0 0 0

The funeral went as well as one would expect. Prayers and condolences were spoken and family members talked in hushed tones, all wearing black. Cameron glanced around passively at the stained glass church windows, sad and bored at the proceedings. Her mother’s coffin was gently lowered into the ground afterwards. Vivid flowers were placed everywhere; red, pink, white, yellow and purple. Being so young, Cameron later didn’t remember the funeral at all. All she knew was that an important part of her life had vanished.

She and her father were never the same afterwards. As Cameron grew up and went to the dismal public school, he became preoccupied with his work. She hardly saw him much anymore. They grew distant, not in a bad way but similar to how different friends grow apart when their interests take them down new paths.

Cameron went to therapy for a while, with Mrs. Winkler, a kind old lady. But the sessions didn’t seem to help. For one thing, Cameron’s fear of animals grew worse each passing year. The fact that she had taken a trip to the zoo with her father only deepened it.

Her father had hoped that a new trip would cheer her up. But the animals would scare her as they roared and pawed at her through the glass when she watched. No one noticed a glowing golden apple which appeared in the exhibits…it let out light and made strange humming noises. The animals all threw themselves menacingly at Cameron with roars, hisses, and growls: Lions, tigers, bears, cheetahs…But it wasn’t just the predatory animals that somehow grew agitated at her. The flamingos squawked nosily, the gators snapped their jaws, and the monkeys would laugh and throw food at her which bounced off the cage wall. The sharks and birds, and oh goodness, the snakes too. The only animals that didn’t appear to pay her any attention were the fish. They just swam around and around as if nothing happened.

Strangely enough, her father didn’t notice.

“What has gotten into you, Cam?” he asked in disbelief after she screamed and sobbed. “Those animals aren’t attacking you.”

“Y-yes they are!” she cried. “Didn’t you see?”

But no one else seemed to notice either. They were just smiling and observing the animals like regular visitors. And the animals were doing their normal routines. A few people gave Cameron looks and raised their eyebrows.

Her father pulled her close. “You’re almost a teenager. Stop acting like a sacred child.”

“I-I know what I saw!” she sobbed. “I know it!”

Her father sighed and merely said, “Let’s go home.”

Cameron lowered her head. She used to enjoy the zoo more than anything…now she had an unbreakable fear of animals. (It had gotten bad to the point where she didn’t even want any pets.)

Cameron didn’t see a grinning yellow face with matching eyes blending within the trees when she left the zoo. Nor did she hear its high pitched cackle. A slender hand held up a golden apple and the illusions replayed.

Another thing that didn’t help was school. Cameron was smart enough in class (especially in literature) but was often bullied for her meekness. Many of the bullies would make animal sounds and jump at her from behind corners.

“Look how sacred she is!” they would mock. “Who’s afraid of the big bad wolf? And everything else in existence? Lamb Cam!”

“Don’t call me that!” she spat. “It’s Cameron!”

“Scram, Cam! Scaredy cat! Scaredy cat! Mrrow!”

And the creepers too as she became a teen.

“Ride me like an animal, Cam! Damn!”

“Are you a turtle, dearie? Cause I’d love to fly through your tender shell…”

“You must be a kitty cat, ‘cause you’ve got some fine pus…”

“Don’t you finish that sentence!”

After finally graduating high school hell, Cameron went to college. After hard work, she got her degree in Guidance Counseling. She figured she’d stray away from animals and gear more toward helping members of her own species. Helping others was her purpose…and getting her degree was a great accomplishment. Friends and boyfriends came and went. She soon lived on her own.

Getting a job, however…much easier said than done. No matter where Cameron looked or how many interviews she went to, they all seemed to dismiss her.

“I’m sorry, you don’t have the right qualifications we’re looking for.”

“We are currently reaching out to other applicants at this time. Thank you for your interest.”

“No social skills…no experience…hmm…not quite fit for this position.”

They always changed their minds at the last minute. Cameron never understood why.

Cameron buried her face in her hands in her room. The fear and sorrow would never go away. The gray skies and the pattering of rain over the glum city matched her mood. She was now twenty-five years old, unemployed, and utterly alone.

Her last hope was a new job position offered to her by a lady with white blonde hair. She had given Cameron her business card and office address: “KayCee: guidance counselor position interview, 12:00 sharp tomorrow.”

Another failed interview, but she figured she’d give it a try.

And then her nightmares. The nightmares that always seemed to come back. They were always the same. Cameron racing through the forest, being chased by every animal and mythical creature in existence. The gnashing of teeth, swipes of paws, being chewed on and swallowed into darkness. Then, thinking it was all over, she’d wake up…

…only to see her mother’s dead body on the floor in front of her.

“Monster! Monster!” a shadowy crowd chanted, surrounding her. But they were pointing their fingers at her, their glowing white eyes accusing.

“No! No, I’m not a monster!” Cameron cried, looking down. Her mother’s head snapped up and her eyes were yellow and black stripes, eyelashes curling out on all sides. “Monster!” She let out a crazed laugh, white teeth sharp, tongue out, eyes rolling back.

Cameron felt herself falling, falling, being watched by dozens of eyes. Eyes, eyes everywhere. Staring into her reflection, she gasped and screamed in horror. She saw her frightened blonde face, but her body consisted of white feathers, talon feet, a thin neck and bat-like wings. She was a harpy. An abomination…becoming what she feared itself.

More screams as she fell down, down, her black pupils growing wider…

0 0 0

Cameron’s pupils shrank back as she lay on her back on a couch. She wore a business casual light gray shirt and a dark skirt. A back headband sat on her golden brown hair, while a few strands hung from either side of her freckled face. The walls were stark gray on all sides. A lone palm frond plant sat in a pot to the side. A grandfather clock ticked quietly in the room, the pendulum swinging from side to side in rhythm.

“I had that dream again…it was so vivid this time,” Cameron told Mrs. Winkler.

“Perhaps your upcoming job assignment played a part in that?” The elder Mrs. Winkler suggested. The therapist wore a gray dress and took notes on a clipboard.

“Maybe,” said Cameron. “But why that dream? I haven’t had it in so long. It was just…so unexpected.”

Cameron sat up. “It was like reliving the whole thing. And bringing back all those memories.” She shuddered slightly, glancing off to the side. “I mean, I’ve been stressed out lately but…I’ve never had that dream so suddenly…”

“Well, dear…” the therapist began, looking at her clipboard. “It sounds to me like…”

Cameron glanced up at the clock, which chimed 12:00.

“Oh! Oh my god, I’m late!” she cried. She leaned in, hands clasped. “Thank you so, so much for listening, Mrs. Winkler! Wish me luck!”

Cameron grabbed her handbag, turned the doorknob and hurried out of the room. “Taxi!” she yelled as she bounded out of the building and down the steps. The rain poured down as she got in. She soon arrived at the other building.

Inside the office, a voice came over through the PA with a bzzt.

“Ms. KayCee. The 12 0’ clock is here…late.”

“Send her in,” replied the woman. She had a tan face, long white hair and narrowed eyes that appeared to glow. She wore a gray business suit and a green pendant around her neck. She sat at her desk with an apple and a pencil holder off to the side. She glanced down at some paperwork in front of her, pen in hand. Rain pattered from outside the window.

Cameron appeared in the doorway. “I’m so sorry I’m late!”

“Come in,” said the woman.

Cameron caught her breath and hustled over to the desk. “I uh…lost track of time.”

“It’s quite…alright…”

The woman glanced up in surprise, noticing Cameron’s wet hair.

“It’s, heh…r-raining outside…” Cameron stuttered nervously, making a gesture.

“Take a seat please,” said KayCee. “So we can begin to discuss your placement with this program.”

Cameron lowered herself into a chair.

“Again, so sorry for being late,” Cameron said.

“It’s alright,” KayCee replied.

Cameron nervously glanced off to the side. KayCee stared intently at Cameron, a faint yellow glow around her eyes. She rested her chin on her hands.

Cameron raised an eyebrow, a faint chill racing through her body. “Do…I know you from some…”

“Yes,” KayCee cut her off.

Cameron knew that KayCee didn’t want to get into the déjà vu moments. After a brief moment of staring, KayCee cleared her throat and looked at the forms in front of her.

“Well looking at your report and resume, I wasn’t able to find a suitable position for you. We don’t seem to have a vacant job here with need of your skills…”

‘Oh no. Not again,’ Cameron thought with dread.

“I’m afraid there is not much I could do…”

Cameron leaned forward and put her arms and elbows on the desk in a begging position. “Please! I really need this job! I have been waiting for an assignment for so long, there has to be something!”

Lightning flashed and thunder cracked from outside as KayCee looked over the form again.

KayCee observed the form. It read “Classified” in bold letters at the top. “Needed positions” “Possible applicants” were shown. “Guidance Counselor” was heavily circled underneath it. Off to the side read: “Agreement to transfer required.” “Must be informed of where.” Below was a “job applicants” list.

“Well…” KayCee began. “You do have a degree in counseling, do you not?”

“Yes! I do!” Cameron said. She didn’t even question how this lady knew that fact. “I’ll take it! Please!”

“It’s a transfer position, it would require relocation,” KayCee mentioned.

Cameron stood up and leaned into her face. “I’ll take it! Wherever it is, I’ll take it!”

“Very well then,” said KayCee. “A private jet will take you from this building on Thursday, 9:00. I suggest you pack all your things.”

Cameron raced over and hugged her. “Yes! Oh yes! Thank you!” KayCee’s eyes briefly turned white with glowing yellow stripes. She narrowed her normal eyes and deadpanned, “Don’t be late.”

“Oh I won’t!” Cameron declared, stepping back. She put her hands together. “Thank you so much!”

“You are quite welcome, Ms. Walden,” KayCee said, reaching for the red apple.

“Oh! Call me Cameron!” Cameron took her bag and opened the door. “Thanks again!” she called before shutting the door with a click.

“Hm, hm, hm, hm, hm,” KayCee chuckled lowly. Her fingers grew crooked and her black nails grew sharp. The apple in her hand vibrated and a golden spiral emerged from the center. Soon the apple was golden and glowing in her hand. KayCee lounged on her desk, knocking over the pencils in the holder off the desk with a foot.

“No Ms. Cameron…” She then spoke in a high pitched echoing shrill, “Thank you!”

In a flash of magic, KayCee had turned into her true form. A being with wild white poufy hair that sizzled with white electricity strands. She wore a white dress with holes in them. She grinned a sinister grin of sharp golden teeth. Her black and yellow striped eyes and long jagged eyelashes made her appearance all the more untamed. She let out an evil maniacal laugh.

0 0 0

“Salvia here again. As you probably have figured out, KayCee is no ordinary human. She is Eris, the Greek Goddess of Strife and Chaos. For she was the one who tossed the Golden Apple of Discord to provoke arguments between Aphrodite, Athena and Hera over who was the fairest goddess. Paris of Troy chose Aphrodite, igniting the Trojan War. Eris, along with Jestine and some other deities, exist to cause discord, nightmares and all sorts of trouble. KayCee/Eris indeed, sent Cameron to Safe Haven, knowing full well that she had no knowledge about the denizens of the destination. Her plan is thus: with Cameron fearing the animal residents and Safe Haven having been discovered by an outsider, the magic protecting it weakens over time. Eris hopes the barriers will eventually break, resulting in war and mass murders from the dark forces…and the humans. For the more chaos there is, the more her power grows. And she won’t stop until every world becomes her chaotic playground.”

“None of us knows what Eris truly wants, but one thing is for sure. Cameron and all of us have to keep our guard up. Eris thrives on manipulation, deceit and black sorcery. To her, the apocalypse is an entertaining musical.”

“For now, we continue our story of Cameron, who soon departs her hometown and embarks on her journey toward Safe Haven…”

Chapter Two: “Cameron’s Arrival to Safe Haven”

It wasn’t long before Cameron arrived outside the building where she had her meeting with KayCee. The sky was clear but smoggy with tan pollution. The city silhouette stood in the background. She soon spotted the jet…which looked more like a dull forest green plane. The plane was old-fashioned with a propeller in the front and two wings on either side of the craft. It was dull green in color and decorated with black stripes. Cameron wore her usual gray clothes and carried her suitcase. At the ramp of steps, a figure stood waiting for her.

“I’ve never been on a private j…plane, before. Are you the pilot, Miss…?”

“Snake.” The woman answered in a low voice.

“Snake?” Cameron asked in confusion.

The woman had light green skin and strangled forest green hair decorated with dark specks. A pair of sunglasses rested on her head. She wore a green tank top, an emerald green scarf and a green-gray skirt. Long elbow-length gloves covered her hands and a white cigarette was in her mouth.

“Interesting name,” said Cameron. “Does it mean anything?”

Snake did not answer.

Cameron continued, “Because I have never heard of someone naming a child something like that.”

Had Cameron been anyone else, she would’ve gotten a harsh slap for the insult. Instead, Snake crossed her arms, holding her cigarette between two fingers. “Save the jaw-flappin’ fer later, hunny. I don’t wanna fly with a headache.” She dropped her cigarette and crushed it with her green high heel on the ground.

Cameron flinched. “Oh! I-I’m sorry! I’m just a bit anxious…”

Cameron walked up the steps and into the aircraft. “Going to new places and everything, ya know?”

“Sure,” Snake answered with disinterest. “Just put a sock in it ‘till we get there.”

Snake sat down and pulled various levers and pressed buttons. The plane was soon off the ground and flying over the city. The propeller spun fast and they zoomed away. Cameron sat nervously in her seat. ‘I hope this was a good idea,’ she thought to herself. ‘There’s no turning back now…’

As the plane swooped over a vast forest, a spectral form of KayCee/Eris grinned mischievously against a large boulder, watching the plane. The sun rose over the hill in front of them, a promise of a new life and adventure.

Snake piloted the plane, sunglasses over her eyes, lost in thought. She briefly cleaned her teeth with a toothpick in one hand, going around her two white fangs.

Snake was in fact, a loner and shapeshifter, who could transform into a green snake at will. One of her friends was Taxi, a yellow werewolf who worked as a cab driver, mechanic…and merrymaker. She would drive monster trucks around while Snake would fly and fix various planes. The two of them bonded over their love of machines, smoking and drinking. Snake was also a secret agent in Safe Haven, skilled with guns and weapons. Her skills in stealth were so great, that she was soon hired by the Zoo Phoenix Academy staff to travel to the human world to retrieve recruits.

Snake, Taxi and Taxi’s werewolf friends would often party, drink and get into trouble. Although Snake had enjoyed it, she also was not proud that she had killed other people on the streets. So in a way, this job was fine with her.

But then Cameron broke the tranquil silence.

“Wow! I didn’t know the forest was this big,” she exclaimed. “We’ve been flying over it for hours…it’s like, endless!”

Snake scoffed. “Yeah…why ya think it’s called the f*ckin’ “Oceania” Forest, hm? ‘Cause it’s big. What’d I say about talkin’?”

Honk!

Cameron looked out the window with a loud gasp. “Oh my…” A giant sky blue bird was honking outside her window. It was larger than any regular bird she had seen.

“Snake!” Cameron wailed out loud, making Snake flinch. “T-there’s a giant bird outside the window!” Cameron grabbed onto her.

“What?” Snake asked.

“G-giant bird! It was huge…giant…! What if it attacks the plane?!”

“Get back to yer seat!” Snake yelled, baring her fangs.

‘Snakes on a plane!’ Cameron thought in fear, after spotting her fangs.

Cameron obliged and looked out the window. The bird was gone.

‘Great, now I’m seeing things…’ she thought.

The sun set outside, turning the sky pink and yellow. Cameron sat, bored. She fell asleep as night fell. The next day, Cameron woke up, sunlight shining through the window.

Snake was nowhere to be seen.

“Hello?”

She stood up and walked down the dark empty aisle.

“Uh…what’s going on?”

No answer.

“S-Snake?!”

Cameron looked out the window and saw a bunch of shadowy creatures outside.

“Oh god.”

Trying to be brave, she peered out the window.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god…”

“Surprise!” hollered the bizarre creatures.

Cameron walked down the steps, stunned. There were so many strange new faces, she couldn’t keep track. Fabian the fox, Perci and Malcom the red and green dragons, Carrie the blonde demon, Zechariah the cheetah, Principal Winston the one with the yellow squid head, a teal eel with a monocle, a person with orange and yellow hair, a midnight blue stag, a yellow fox, and Salvia too. All the Zoo Phoenix Academy staff were there to welcome her.

Cameron stared off into space, seeing the creatures. Was this some kind of prank? Were these just people in costumes trying to bully her again?

Just then, Perci the dragon got into her face and said, “Welcome to the zoo, Cameron Walden! Well—hah! Of course it isn’t really a zoo! Sorta ironic that I just called it that, really! Hahahaha!”

Cameron gulped. She felt like it was a zoo…a dangerous wacky one with escaped mythical creatures. Perci put an arm around her. The eel shook her hand. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance, my dear!”

Were these really talking animals?

A strong hand lifted up Cameron’s arm as a tough light gray face with blonde hair inspected her.

“She sure is a scrawny-gangly-shaky li’ thing, ain’t she?” Carrie remarked in a gruff voice.

“Oh nonsense Carrie,” said Fabian the red fox. “I think Ms. Cameron looks perfectly fine.” He gave her a wink and a sultry look, Cameron cringing in disgust. Was that fox hitting on her?

“I’ll take your word on that, Fabian!” called the blind green dragon teacher Malcom. His hair was black, skin light green. He walked up to her. “Good evening? Morning? Day!”

There was a brief silence.

“How about a kiss, pretty lady?” Fabian cooed, getting close to her with his tongue.

“Eeeeiiiiahhhhhhee!”

Cameron screamed at the top of her lungs. “S-stay back! A-all of you! Don’t come any closer!”

The animals glared at her, teeth showing. Any moment, they would pounce on her. For several moments, Cameron could only hear growls, slurps, mutters and hisses.

The cheetah rumbled in thought as the squid principal slurped his tea loudly beside him.

Cameron took more steps back. “I-I mean it! Stay away from me! Stay away! D-don’t come any closer!”

“Calm down, dearie,” Perci reassured. But Cameron only heard a strange growl from him that sounded like “Raaalmm, rrowwn, geeerrek!” She was too scared to properly comprehend the human speech.

Cameron suddenly pointed behind them. “Look! What’s that over there?” She promptly dashed away with a zip while only Perci glanced behind him. The others narrowed their eyes in confusion.

Cameron screamed some more before skidding to a halt. She gasped. “Oh my! What on Earth?”

Before her lay a vibrant magical world beyond her greatest imagination. It was a cross between Jurassic Park, Zootopia and a child’s version of New York. A blue sea creature eel with three eyes slithered across a teal street with dark stones on it. A slender red bird appeared to be pulling a covered wagon in the distance. A yellow cab drove by a golden dragon and a yellow bird with long feathers. The buildings were curved, concaved and had glass coverings around them. There was a small pond, several sidewalks and lamps illuminating the small park below. Birds of many colors flapped and fluttered freely in the air, some of them looking like pterodactyls. A large red spotted wall had several archways of different sizes, green vines going up it and a large golden eye in the center. Several birds were perching on the top of the wall. A few waterfalls flowed through the arches of the wall. There were several dinosaurs too; a two headed blue longneck, a golden dinosaur with multiple eyes and a flap of skin on its head, and a violet triceratops that looked like a pincher beetle. Nearby buildings of blue, yellow and pink read “Gym,” “Liquor,” and “Le Crumbles” respectively.

Cameron shook her head. “This is not happening…I’m dreaming this.”

Cameron felt something soft and furry press against her back. Without a word, her eyes darted upwards and met the gaze of a cheetah.

“Is there something wrong, Miss?” asked the cheetah.

But of course, Cameron only heard hungry growls. She saw the cheetah’s teeth and maw and felt lightheaded.

“Uhhh…”

This was it…she was now cat food. Her eyes rolled back and she fainted onto the ground. The cheetah rolled his eyes and sighed in concern.

“Somebody get our new visitor to the infirmary.”

“I can do it,” Fabian purred.

“No. I got it,” barked Carrie, lifting up Cameron’s form easily.

0 0 0

“Wuuuhh?”

Cameron groaned and slowly opened her eyes. Her vision cleared and she saw a man with tan skin and blonde hair with bangs jutting off to one side. He wore a sky blue shirt, a torn white tie and dark pants. Cameron was lying on a table. In the dark room, a sky blue poster with a yellow smiley face read “Smile! It’s almost over!”

“You okay, hun?” the man asked. He was Chastopher the nurse.

“W-what’s going on?” Cameron asked, sitting up.

“You are in the nurse’s office, my dear!”

Cameron rubbed her head. “Oh thank god…I just had the worst dream ev…what is that?” Her face turned pale.

The man held a red power drill in one hand. As he turned around, Cameron swore she heard the screeching music from “Psycho.”

“Willis said you needed a checkup!” he babbled, leaning close to her face. “Willis is very smart, you know!”

He hugged a stuffed lime-colored unicorn with a black button eye and flicked on the drill. The drill buzzed loudly, mixing with his crazed giggles.

“Help!” Cameron screamed. She dove under his legs off the table and scrambled away. Cameron flung open the door and gulped with a pause. The cheetah was back, blocking her way.

“Are you feeling better, Miss Walden?”

“No.” Cameron replied, eye twitching. Why was she talking to a cheetah? Animals didn’t talk, yet here they were. She turned around, clutching her head. There had to be a way to escape.

“Okay! O-kay! T-This is just a big crazy dream! Wake up! Wake up Cameron! Wake up!”

“Wake up,” the nurse sang with a dopey expression, holding his toy. After closing her eyes, she opened them again. To her disappointment, she was still in the same place.

“Are you finished?” the cheetah deadpanned, an annoyed look on his furry face.

Cameron sighed. “Okay…I give up…w-what’s going on?”

“Were you not informed about…”

“About what? Informed about what?!”

The cheetah stared at her in confusion. “You were not informed about this place before being sent here?”

“Sent where? Where am I?!”

Oh dear, this was going to be hard to explain. They needed a better place to talk.

“Follow me, Miss...” said the cheetah, moving on four legs.

Feeling like she had no choice, Cameron awkwardly obliged. Cameron peeked back toward the room and saw the nurse sleeping against his toy.

“S-So…” Cameron began as she raced to catch up to the cheetah. “Y-you’re a giant cheetah?”

“Yes.”

“Just checking…”

They walked past green lockers and into an office.

“Have a seat, Miss,” said the cheetah. He mentioned to a large purple desk chair as Cameron slowly sat down.

Sluurrrrppp!

The principal with a yellow and red squid head with three lip-like designs on his forehead was slurping loudly from a pink teacup. He wore a dark business suit with buttons. A matching pink teapot sat at his desk and slobber dribbled onto the desk surface. Cameron darted her eyes toward him in bewilderment.

The cheetah smiled. “Oh this is Principal Winston. He is quite harmless.”

“Right…” Cameron breathed, pulling her knees closer together.

The cheetah stared at Cameron with concern. He felt bad for this newcomer who had been so traumatized on her first visit. He remembered when he himself first arrived to Safe Haven, formerly being a regular cheetah and accidentally falling through a portal. He had magically gained the ability to talk thanks to Salvia and became one of the staff members at the school. Although he missed his original family, he had found other creatures like himself…a new family.

Perhaps he could help Cameron be a part of it…quirkiness and all. But the hard truth had to come first.

The cheetah straightened his spine and cleared his throat.

“Well my dear Miss Cameron. I have some news for you. My name is Zechariah, and I regret to inform you that there seems to have been some sort of mistake with the company that employed you. You were hired to be a guidance counselor, correct?”

“Y-yes.”

“Well, all humans employed or chosen to be sent here are given strict details about this world, and it is their choice to be transferred.”

Zechariah’s eyes glowed yellow and narrowed in suspicion. “Whoever sent you, did an incredibly dishonest thing…for once here, you cannot return to the outside world you once knew…”

Cameron could hardly breathe. “S-So I’m stuck in the crazy magical world of oversized talking animals?”

“I am afraid so, Miss.” Then he added in a more professional tone, “Also, this is an interspecies society. There are many different creatures. Not just ‘animals.’”

Cameron shuddered with renewed terror. “Like what? Other scary things? Vampires?”

“Yes.”

“Mermaids? Demons? Ghosts?”

“Yes.”

“Aliens?”

“Aliens do not exist, Miss Cameron.”

“Where am I right now?” Cameron wondered out loud.

“You are in the Zoo Phoenix Academy,” said Zechariah. “This is where you were employed. So we brought you right here. Would you like a tour?”

“Okay?” Cameron hesitated.

Zechariah held up his tail which had a watch on it. He spoke into the device. “Jackie, can you come to my office please?”

“Absolutely!” a voice replied.

Cameron grabbed onto Zechariah’s tail. “Who’s Jackie?”

Cameron soon got her answer when a woman strolled into the room. “Hey, hey hey!” she trilled in a sing-song voice. Jackie wore a long dress in different shades of blue; navy blue at the top to sky blue at the bottom. Her dress had yellow trim around it and she wore matching yellow shoes. Her skin was light brown and her hair was in vibrant shades of blue, with yellow tufts toward the back and a green tip that served as a bang. Her hair was reminiscent of parrot feathers.

She was a parrot shapeshifter…and she chatted like one too.

She walked over to Cameron and eagerly shook her hand.

“Hello, hello, hello! I’m Jackie! Drama instructor. So you are the new girl everyone’s talking about? What’s your name?”

“Cameron,” she replied nervously.

“You caused quite a scene huh, Cam?”

“It’s Cameron.”

Zechariah leaned over.

“She is in need of a tour, Jackie.”

Jackie put an arm around a stunned Cameron and guided her through the door.

“Not another word, Zech! I got this!”

0 0 0

Jackie eagerly showed Cameron around the vast campus. Despite being inhabited by strange beings, Cameron couldn’t help but admire the buildings and scenery. The grass was bright green and fresh and the trees provided ample shade for hot days. The building exteriors were made of smooth glass and round in globe shapes. They walked through a cobblestone courtyard, where a fountain trickled in the center. On either side of the entrance, there were statues of phoenixes made of bloodstone, garnet and rubies. The phoenix was the mascot, symbolizing rebirth and new hope. “Rise from the ashes, soar into success!” was the academy motto.

“I love our mascot, don’t you?” Jackie asked Cameron. Cameron mostly zoned out as Jackie chatted on and on. “Though I’d much prefer parrots! They’re so beautiful and lively. The school would do good to spread some more musical cheer. And parrots would be perfect! Just notice how well they can talk and sing. The Zoo Parrot Academy, wouldn’t have to worry about changing the acronym.”

They soon walked through some double doors and into a vast chamber made up of the red spotted wall.

“I really think you will love working here, Cam! This is the main lobby. All the subject wings branch off from here.”

Reflected watery light of an aquarium danced around the floor and walls. Jackie guided Cameron through a large room with an elevator and long tan chairs off to the side. A winding green staircase swirled up to an upper level with glass panes and a marvelous view of the outside. Several archways branched off to different sections. They passed under an arch, which was against a light blue wall, leading to the aquarium. Inside, Cameron could see a friendly-looking fish, a hammerhead shark, a swordfish and a bottlenose dolphin gliding playfully through the water.

“Have I gone insane?” Cameron breathed as she looked up at the aquarium ceiling in wonder.

“No, not really!” Jackie replied.

One archway had a grandfather clock beside it, another was adorned with red curtains and another was supported by Greek pillars.

Cameron stopped for a moment as Jackie turned around.

“You ready?” she asked.

Cameron stood there puzzled as Jackie wandered off toward the stairs. Jackie looked at her and laughed sheepishly.

“What? Did you think I was gonna be like ‘Come, I’ll show you my wing first?!’”

Cameron nodded.

“Oh, that would be kinda silly. I mean, why not save the best for last?! There are so many great places to explore here, wouldn’t want to deprive you of the diverse experience, ya know?”

Cameron let out a small understanding smile. “Thank you.”

“Alrighty! Let’s flutter on up! Heh…or walk, rather…”

Cameron rolled her eyes as she followed Jackie up the stairs.

They walked into the first wing supported by Greek pillars, and Cameron could smell the scent of dusty books.

“This is the library!” said Jackie. Then she covered her mouth, speaking softer. “I forgot I’m supposed to whisper in here!”

Going inside, there were rows and rows of books on shelves all around them. Some were leather bond with yellowed pages while others looked brand new. There were also magazines and modern computers on round desks where students were doing their work. Several winged birds were busy organizing the books on the higher shelves, which arched toward the high stained-glass ceiling. The ceiling had glass designs of owls, phoenixes and trees. At the front desk, a camel lady with thin glasses was busy exchanging books with passerby.

“Here you’ll find everything you need to study on counseling techniques, textbooks or just reading for fun. It’s the go-to place for research of all kinds. The students here are teenagers but we have majors and college-like courses in this high school!”

“Quiet!” whispered a nearby gray owl with a monocle at Jackie.

“Sorry!” she whispered.

“Well…that’s quite something,” said Cameron.

“I know, right? Trying to combine different curriculums, school systems and diverse races and species of students can be a lot of work. But thankfully the founders of Safe Haven helped out tremendously.”

“And they are?” Cameron asked.

But Jackie instead got distracted and waved at a red-haired woman in the distance.

Toward the back of the library was a shadowed section labeled “Restricted Section,” which housed books on dark magic. Sitting at the edge of that section on a chair was Salvia with a book in hand. Jackie guided Cameron over to the red-haired woman. They stopped just short of her.

Salvia lifted up her face slightly from a book labeled “Romeo and Juliet 2: Love and Lies.” She wore a black dress with red etched patterns.

“Can I help you?”

“This is Salvia, one of the staff members,” said Jackie in an excited whisper. Jackie gestured for Cameron to introduce herself.

“Uh…hi,” Cameron said with a nervous grin and wave. Salvia peered at her closely, her eyes hidden behind her hair. “You’re the newcomer, right?”

Cameron nodded.

“Welcome to Z.P.A.,” she said.

“Huh?”

“Zoo Phoenix Academy, the place you’ll be staying at briefly until we can get you a new home nearby.”

Cameron paced back and forth, anxious again. “No one has explained exactly what is going on here, what this place is, what’s it called?” Cameron asked. “I know you guys are trying to keep me from getting scared but I’ve had it with being confused! Explain things to me.”

“Shhh!” several voices shushed Cameron when she raised her voice.

“Oh of course,” said Salvia, putting the book down and conjuring magical images and sigils in front of her. “Might as well explain it to you now rather than wait three whole weeks later after witnessing a vampire attack to do it.”

“W-What?” Cameron asked before she was shushed again.

“I can see glimpses of the future,” Salvia mentioned. “Anyway, Cameron, you’ve only been exposed to the Zoo Phoenix Academy and its grounds…we were gonna wait until you felt more comfortable with the school but, if you insist on knowing this place…”

“Yes, I’m still a capable adult,” Cameron added.

“This place is much bigger than what you have experienced. It is called…Safe Haven.”

(“Salvia here. For the next few minutes, I described the magical protection and the origins of Safe Haven that I had already verbalized in the introduction narration. Feel free to go back if needed but let’s skip and continue on.”)

Cameron stood, jaw dropping. “Oh my God! There really are monsters out there?!”

“Do not worry,” said Salvia. “As long as you’re here, you should be safe. I’m hoping you’ll get more used to this place and not cause the magical barrier to eventually collapse.”

“I’d never do that!”

“Not intentionally. But someone else wants to make sure that happens.”

“Who is it?” Cameron asked, but Jackie stood in the way, much to the annoyance of Cameron and Salvia.

“Thank you Salvia,” said Jackie with a nervous chuckle, pushing Cameron along, “But we better get going! Heh, heh! So many things to see.”

Salvia gave Cameron a knowing apologetic look before going back to her book.

Moe shushes followed them out of the library. “Whew, I can speak again!” Jackie boomed as they entered a hall with brass walls. Jackie’s voice echoed off the walls. “Echo! Echo!” Cameron flinched and grit her teeth.

“On with the tour!” They passed through another archway flanked by torches and five golden rings overhead. “This is the Sports Wing!” said Jackie as they walked down the hall. “Here you’ll find our gymnasium, our pool, outdoor courts and dance studios.”

Cameron looked through a glass window at an indoor basketball court. The court walls were decorated with vines. A monkey was busy swinging from the vines with his tail, dribbling a basketball in his hands. A bear, a bull, a ram, a goat and a chipmunk were stomping around, trying to get the basketball. The monkey dunked it into a nearby hoop as a zebra coach blew his whistle.

Outside in the courtyard, a few lions were practicing fencing while a fox and a hare did gymnastic tricks on bars. Several cheetahs raced each other along a round track and a black bearded centaur hopped over hurdles along the way. A dog and a cat were busy playing hand ball. A few hyena hybrids snickered as they taped a “kick me” sign on the back of a student with peacock feathers.

In a swimming pool, a boy with shark features and a girl with blue scaly skin laughed as they raced each other down the lanes. A woman with swan feathers was preening herself in a hot tub as several male ducks peered for a closer look. A mermaid relaxed beside her, staring at her reflection.

Several brightly colored werewolves were listening to blaring electronic music in the weight room as they lifted barbells and rapidly punched hanging bags. A lone black-wearing vampire stood in the corner drinking dark red liquid from a bottle. The boxing ring was currently being used by bi-pedal boxer dogs.

“Too much sweat and exertion for me,” Jackie mentioned. “I’m more for the grace and beauty of the theater! Onward!”

They soon left the Sports Wing and headed through the arch with the grandfather clock.

“Here is the History Wing!”

They walked around what looked like a museum, with a variety of items on display. There were ceramic pots from ancient civilizations within glass boxes all around. Various paintings were hung from the walls, with signatures. Several weapons were on display further back. Among the weapons were a few that glowed white with swirls and crosses.

“Oh, those are angelic weapons. They are highly valuable and rare. It is said that they can kill any demon in Hell.”

��“Why not use them to fight off the monsters?” asked Cameron.

“Good question. Some demons gather the weapons and sell them on the black market for later use. They kill each other off, causing lots of chaos. Heaven’s been using the Exorcists who wield these weapons to eliminate demons each year for centuries. Archangel Adina’s idea to insure ‘purity’ up there.”

“How do you know all this?”

“A friend of a friend of an ex told me. Horrible stuff, I’m telling you. Best to lay low and stay safe.”

They continued onward past treasure chests, antique clothing and various art of mythical creatures in battle or passionate embraces. Exiting that wing, they turned toward another wing made of metal.

“Ah, the Science and Engineering Wing! Perhaps the most confusing and loud section there is. Try not to touch anything!”

It was indeed very loud. Clanks, hisses, bangs and booms permeated through the rooms. Cameron had to cover her ears as she followed Jackie. In one area, raccoons, cats and a few dwarves were working on a metal machine that bellowed smoke and sparks. It had wheels, engines, pipes and canvas wings on either side of it. “Primitive flying car” was labeled next to it. A gopher was working on a computer as green 0s and 1s blinked down a screen. A few other students were taking notes on a steampunk blimp made by a snake inventor of the Industrial Revolution.

There were also several dimmed laboratories illuminated with teal blue fluorescent lights. Blue flames flickered under Bunsen burners while students peered through microscopes at their ant friends. A blue anglerfish man was pouring colorful contents from different vials together, snickering. A mad scientist in a lab coat was instructing one class on how to make a serum that could strengthen the DNA of animal hybrids.

“Let’s move on,” Jackie coughed, swiping away the nearby smoke.

They exited the wing and had arrived at the vast bustling cafeteria.

“The heart…erm, stomach of the campus!” Jackie joked.

Rows of white tables hosted hungry students and staff. Several birds were slurping up bowls of worms. Werewolves were munching on raw meat while horses chewed casually on hay blades. There was also regular food for the more human-like beings as well: salads, sandwiches, soups, potatoes, tacos, casseroles, stews, banquet style meals, fruit desserts and ice cream. There was even a stand giving out spectral food for ghosts. Like many college eating areas, there were various sections serving different kinds of dishes like a miniature food mall. It was an all-you-can-eat paradise.

Cameron’s stomach grumbled as she inhaled the scents of exotic foods. But Cameron soon led her out and back to the main lobby.

“And now, for the best and last part of the tour…” she led Cameron through the wing with red curtains. Rusty and another spotted animal watched them go from the top of the stairs.

“This is the Arts Wing!”

Jackie held her arms in the air as they walked down a hall. The walls were red and decorated with spirals. A poster with a comedy and tragedy theater mask shone within a frame of lights. There was a red “Just Dance” poster and a green movie posted with a clawed black hand labeled “Now showing: The Ded.” There was a painting of a waterfall and a nearby forest.

Cameron looked around. “Oh my, never woulda guessed…”

Jackie laughed. “Hahaha! Sarcasm! I like you Cam!”

They stopped by the dance room and pushed open the double red doors.

“Baby! I got someone for you to meet!” Jackie trilled.

A man with the same colored skin as Jackie, clapped his hands. A group of girls, Mia and Ava, Penelope and Camilla were in pink tutus and ballet slippers doing practice.

“Okay girls! Once you’re warmed up…Jackie!”

The man turned around and beamed.

“Oh god…” Cameron looked in disgust.

The man wore a vibrant red pinstriped suit with blue vertical stripes on it. His bow tie was yellow with red and blue dots on it. His hair was mostly red with a white spot to the left side and blue tips toward the bottom back. His hair also resembled parrot feathers. He currently wore dark blue pants, pointed black shoes and a pink tutu. He also had a gold tooth.

He leaned into Cameron, his eyes golden yellow.

“Salutations senorita! Name?”

“C-Cameron.”

“Soopity, doopity to meetcha! My name is Alanzo but call me Al! It’s shorter!”

He also eagerly shook Cameron’s hand before hugging his wife.

“Heh, nice to meet you,” Cameron began. “So what subject do you…”

“Dance!” Alanzo explained with a flourish.

Jackie chuckled nervously, guiding Cameron out of the room. “Well honey, we gotta run. Got a lot of school to show!”

“You do yer thang, gal!” Alanzo said with a snap of his fingers.

“So he was…” Cameron began as they walked out of the room and down the hall.

Jackie smiled. “That was my husband. We both work in this wing!”

Jackie showed Cameron more rooms.

“And here is…the Art Room!”

Addison and his adoptive Indian snake mother Latika were busy painting on a canvas. A vivid painting of a flying phoenix hung in the background.

“The Music Room!”

Calvin, a yellow crocodile with a black and yellow back with squares on it, played a tuba, which matched his color scheme. A smiling brown fox named Christopher played a white saxophone with blue swirls on it. A black porcupine named Priscilla played a black cello.

Dodododo do-do-do-do…they played a cheerful tune that sounded like Gooseworx’s two Zoophobia themes. (Look it up on YouTube!)

“The Film Room!”

A white and gray wolf twin (Leonardo or Vincent) held onto a fire hydrant with a joyful expression as a fan blew him back. A green screen was in the background. A cheetah, a gray-haired student and the other wolf twin looked at a screen in bewilderment. Another guy with a black hat, flinched from the force of air.

“Why do the animals have giant fans?” asked Cameron.

“Guess they got a bigger budget!” Jackie exclaimed.

“But why?”

“Their last film almost did win at the festival,” Jackie pondered.

At last, they entered a vast auditorium.

Jackie spread out her arms. “And here is my domain! The Theater!”

Cameron glanced down at a group of figures sitting on the stage.

“A-are those your students?”

Jackie wiped a tear from her eye. “Yep! They are my little prodigies!”

Then she trilled in a sing-song voice: “Good afternoon my sparkling little turtle doves!”

“Hey Jackie!” the students harmonized in song.

To Cameron’s bewilderment, an orange fox named Spam, peered at her from atop her head…then licked her face randomly before scampering off.

Spam, Penelope, Jack, Makenzie, Zillion, Kayla, Sahara, Daimon, Taylor and Vanexa were all there.

Penelope wore a stylish white dress and a teal headband with two peacock feathers on it. She was currently admiring herself in a small hand mirror. Mackenzie the cat girl had messy red hair, pale skin and a lavender shirt with a cat on it. She saw herself as a cat after being raised by her equally cat-loving mother Margo.

Jack was a light brown jackal with a worn down body and droopy ears. Zillion was a mix up of creatures and had yellow skin, purple eyes, purple antennae-like ears and a small green snake for a tail. Taylor was a guy with red sclera eyes, light brown hair with purple sides, and he wore brown clothing. He and Zillion were currently locked in an arm wrestling match.

Kayla the beautiful kangaroo was Zillion’s girlfriend; she was happily perched on top of the black grand piano. Sahara was a dark skinned woman wearing a pink head scarf over her dark hair. She had an affinity for magic. Behind her was a darker colored jackal Damion, with red pupils, black sclera and wearing tattered clothes of red and black. Finally, Vanexa was a purple bi-pedal cat, reading a book with a disinterested look on her face. She viewed those around her in a detached annoyance.

‘These are her students?! Just more magical freaky animals?! How crazy can this world get?!’ thought Cameron.

Zillion pinned down Taylor’s arm, much to the latter’s annoyance. “Who’s your friend, cracker jacks?” he asked Jackie.

Jackie put an arm around Cameron. “This here is your new guidance counselor fellas!” Cameron awkwardly looked off to the side.

“Oh good!” Jack and Damion called at the same time.

Damion smirked sarcastically, “I need a lot of ‘guidance!’”

Cameron walked over and pointed at Zillion. “Um sorry, I hate to ask but…what exactly are you? I want to know how scared I should be…”

“Well I…” Zillion began to explain but Jack snickered with a “Kekekeke!” from beside him. Zillion glared at Jack.

“Pass,” Zillion deadpanned. “Not even I know what I am.”

McKenzie sniffed Cameron for a moment, then let out a “Hiss!” It was her habit among strangers. Cameron flinched in confusion.

Damion chuckled and leaned toward Cameron. “You really got your work cut out for you, lady! Just sayin’.”

Cameron stared at him. “H-how are you floating like that?”

Damion grinned. “Oh well it’s because…” He turned on a flashlight under his face and bared his fangs wide, his eyes swirled stripes of red against black. “I’m the Antichrist! Hahahahaha!”

Cameron almost felt like fainting again.

Jack inched closer to Cameron with an apologetic look. “I’m really sorry about my cousin!” He smiled and clutched her hand. “Hello! My name is Jack! And I would like to schedule with you as soon as possible!”

Cameron raised an eyebrow. “Uh, okay?”

Jack let go. “Sorry! It’s been a while since I had someone to talk about my problems…”

Clang!

A stage light fell down and collapsed on top of Jack. He fell to the floor in a heap. A pool of dark blood was visible on the floor around his head. One of his paws had an exposed bone. Cameron covered her mouth in fear and shock.

“Aw man! Not again! You okay dude?” Zillion asked in concern.

Zillion turned to Cameron. “Yeah, this happens a lot. He’ll be alright.”

“Hey, Jackie! Another light fell!” Taylor called.

“I saw it!” she answered.

“So Cam!” said Jackie. “Do you wanna stick around for the class?”

“I’m sorry to say…I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed,” Cameron breathed in almost a whisper.

“Understandable, hun! Vanexa, would you mind escorting Cam to her office?”

The purple cat nodded and led the way, book in hand.

Jackie turned back to the class and clapped her hands. “Alright guys! Showtime!”

They soon reached a pair of wooden doors underneath a sign that read “Guidance.”

“T-thank you. V-Vanexa was it?” Cameron asked nervously. Vanexa did not answer. There was an awkward silence as they looked each other in the eyes. They each seemed to be trying to decipher the other’s thoughts. Cameron coughed.

“W-well…yeah…good evening to you, talking cat…” Cameron stuttered.

“Enjoy your stay,” said Vanexa before she walked back down the hall.

0 0 0

Cameron slammed the door shut behind her, catching her breath. Her office was small and dimly lit with a few books on one shelf to the left. A palm plant was off to one side and blinds were in the center of a yellow wall. In the center was a desk with a couple chairs and “C. Walden” on a label. A pink gift bag lay on her desk with a bunch of strange items inside; a pink flower with yellow tips, a green dragon figure, and what appeared to be cosmetics. Cameron read the tag on the gift: “Dear Cameron, Welcome to the Family! Z.P.A. Staff.”

Cameron smiled slightly at the thoughtful gift.

Cameron was reminded of Mrs. Winkler’s office…and then was reminded of home. This small space didn’t feel much like home.

“How are you coping with things thus far, Cameron?”

Cameron whirled behind her and spotted Zechariah the cheetah.

“Holy mother of…please d-don’t do that…”

“My apologies,” he said.

Cameron sighed. “Yeah…well all things considered…” She slide down onto the floor, overwhelmed.

“I’m sure this is a lot to handle,” said Zechariah.

“Yeah…”

“This place will take some getting used to, Miss. Miss?”

To Zechariah’s surprise, Cameron was sniffing and sobbing, burying her face in her knees. This was not how Zechariah imagined the newcomer would feel.

“I am truly sorry this has happened to you, Miss,” Zechariah said empathetically. “I wish there was more I could do…”

Although stern on the outside, Zechariah had a sweet and protective heart. Being a staff member had gotten him exposed to more human emotions. As the ZPA staff had welcomed him during his arrival to Safe Haven, it was no wonder that he went out of his way to try and do the same for others.

Zechariah nuzzled his furry face into Cameron’s like a comforting cat. Cameron didn’t flinch this time. In fact, she cried and wrapped her arms around the cheetah. She didn’t care that he wasn’t a regular human. She just needed something…someone to give her comfort. Someone to let her know she wasn’t alone in this strange new world. Zechariah’s warm soft chest felt good to Cameron…like a comforting blanket or a pet. Zechariah stared in brief surprise, before closing his eyes and embracing the gesture. Cameron reminded him of when he had been a young cub, trying to find his place.

Cameron’s animal-loving side from her childhood briefly came back…before it faded with the moment of their separation.

“There is…something you may like to see,” mentioned Zechariah in a soft voice. He had an idea. “This way, Miss.”

Cameron followed Zechariah up the stairs and into the observatory.

“W-what’s up here?” Cameron asked.

Then she looked skyward and gasped.

“Oh my god…”

Shimmering in the starry night sky were glowing yellow koi fish floating in the air. They had yellow skin, glowing white eyes, white lines and spot designs across their bodies. One large fish had a yin-yang symbol on its forehead and was as big as an airplane. Their fins were transparent and flowing gracefully like they were angel wings underwater.

“These are guardian fish spirits,” said Zechariah. “The Fish of Peace. They appear when everything is safe. Similar to the butterfly orcas, used to calm anxiety.”

“How…how’d you know I like fish?” Cameron breathed. “This is…beautiful!”

‘Salvia’s magic of course,’ Zechariah thought.

Zechariah purred. “Welcome home, Miss Cameron.”

A magnificent ocean-colored whale swam by among the fish, decorated with bioluminescent spots along its back.

For several minutes, the two of them stared in wonder at the ethereal spirits. Cameron felt like maybe this place wouldn’t be so bad after all. Especially with her new furry friend and mentor.

Then a question spilled out of her mouth.

“So…where am I going to live anyway?”

One of the fish in the sky turned a deathly white and took on yellow and black stripped eyes. She peered closely at Cameron. “And so it begins…”

0 0 0

One day later, an earth-colored griffin-like creature named Skoni pulled a cart of packages around the street. He sang the “Mail Time” song out loud:

“Here’s the mail

It never fails

It makes me want to wag my tail

When it comes, I wanna wail

Mail!”

He stopped and knocked on Cameron’s door.

Cameron cracked open the door of her new small home. “Y-yes?”

“Package, ma’am!”

Cameron took the package and stared at Skoni. He suddenly appeared to be sprouting eyes all over his body…

“Get away monster!” Cameron cried, waving a bat at him.

Skoni looked taken aback. “You just arrived yesterday, lady! I’m here to deliver your mail! Gaah!”

“Demon!” Cameron yelled, squirting hose water in his face.

“Fine!” Skoni scoffed. “Have a nice day!”

Cameron blinked a few times and saw a regular pouting Skoni trot away. “Oh you were just delivering the mail again... Sorry!”

Eris (or “KayCee”) laughed as the Skoni illusion replayed from her golden apple. She ate a sub sandwich in the darkness. “So let’s get this party started then, shall we?”

Chapter Three: “Jack’s Counseling Session”

Cameron’s first test of her new career began several days later. Jack had mentioned that he wanted to get an appointment with her as soon as possible. And by sheer luck, his desire was granted. (However, he had to deal with several shoves from Rusty, slipping on a banana peel and tripping on the sidewalk several times on his way there.)

Cameron glanced at a long list of confidential session notes provided to her by Salvia for the week:

Client One: Jackson Wells. Concern: Daily bad luck.

Client Two: Addison Woods. Concern: Trauma from experimentation in Xirxine labs.

Client Three: McKenzie Payoray. Concern: Daily bullying and coping with feline lifestyle.

Client Four: Damion Beelzly. Concern: Proper educational environment.

Clients Five and Six: Zillion Martinez and Kayla Christling. Concern: Anniversary troubles.

Client Seven: Vanexa Pierce. Concern: Solitude and fitting in.

Client Eight: Camilla Jimenez. Concern: Dancer, hopeless romantic, doesn’t like her rep.

Client Nine: Autumn. Concern: Increase self-worth.

Client Ten: Tom. Concern: Break up with Addison and stealing souls.

Client Eleven: Daphne Dafadellia. Concern: Being less judgmental toward men.

Client Twelve: Rusty (Call him by his real name Reuben, he hates it). Concern: Bullying issues.

(Don’t mind my mind reading.)

Cameron smiled as she stood on a chair and hung up a sign on her office door that read “Ms. Walden. ZPA Guidance.”

She placed a small green tree in a pot on a side table, hung up a blue poster of two fish that read “Just keep swimming,” and placed a golden dragon statue on a side table as well. Her desk was polished and had a label on it with her name. She stepped back and observed her handiwork.

“Mhm! Much better!”

She glanced at her watch and sat down at her desk, arms folded in front of her.

‘Okay, you can do this,’ she encouraged to herself. Her heart jolted when she heard a knocking at the door.

Jack peered into the room.

“Um Ms. Walden? I’m uh, here for my session…”

“Oh yes! Jackson, good morning to you,” greeted Cameron. She mentioned to a purple beanbag chair on the floor. “Please take a seat and we can get started! Hope you don’t mind bean-bags…”

Jack settled onto the bean-bag, enjoying the comfort. “Naw, they are actually really nice, heh…Also I, um, like what you did with the new room! It’s very humble!”

“Thank you!”

Cameron placed a hand under her chin with a sheepish grin. “Yes I’m…very thankful to Zechariah for letting me change rooms. I kinda have a weird connection with my surroundings. The old room was just a little too intimidating on first arrival…”

“Yeah, I understand what you mean…” mentioned Jack.

Cameron cleared her throat. “So! You are my first official counseling session here at Z.P.A.! Is there um, anything bothering you at all that you would like to talk about? Anything!”

Jack stuttered, already beginning to feel a sort of crush for her. Cameron had appeared so nice on her first day and he figured maybe she could ease his current situation a bit. “Umm…well…I think for things I tell you to make sense…I have to kinda fill you in a bit about...myself...and my “condition,” or well…my curse…”

Jack then explained his origins.

“You see…my parents were extremely close…according to my mother. And when she got pregnant with me, they were very excited. But…before I was born, my father was killed in a very freak accident. My mother was devastated by it. In desperation, she turned to her sister. My aunt Narissa, who…well is married to the devil…as creepy as that sounds. She begged him to make a deal but as a gift to his wife, he granted my mother her wish. To give her unborn child the gift of eternal life…But the devil’s magic works in very odd ways…so his gift was really a curse. When I was born, he cursed me with immortality…along with a supernatural affinity for bad luck…and, heh…thing is…I still feel pain…”

He barely remembered himself as a pup, flinching in a grass bed as Lucifer’s long dark finger shot a bolt of hot magic through him…burning him to his very core.

His mother was grateful she didn’t have to worry about him dying, but was concerned about the bad luck.

Jack glanced off to the side. “So, um, yeah. Not being able to die on top of the very crazy, often violent things that happen to me…with the pain…it um…yeah…not fun.”

Jack looked at Cameron in concern.

“You okay, Miss. Walden? I’m sorry if my story is a little strange…”

“No…” Cameron replied. “I’m just…still getting used to hearing about the…supernatural things…and the devil being real…”

Cameron continued. “Phewww…I am very sorry for your situation, Jackson. It sounds…simply dreadful. What else would you like to share about your hardships? I can tell there is a lot you have to tell…”

Jack twiddled his thumbs. “I really hope you don’t mind me talking a lot about myself. I just think it’s a good idea to fill things in.”

“No Jack, it’s fine,” Cameron encouraged. “It helps to know these things!”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, it’s just…been a while since I explained this stuff. I don’t often tell people about the curse anymore.”

“Why is that?”

Jack buried his face in his hands as he explained.

“Well because…It just gets hard explaining it over and over to people…why so much crazy stuff happens to me, around me. And the moment I mention that it is an actual “curse,” people immediately get sacred to be around me. I can’t really blame them; they don’t want to get hurt. But…sometimes I don’t really like it. I don’t like people avoiding me out of fear. And I don’t like people thinking I’m making it up for attention!”

Cameron was reminded of how many people with disabilities felt similarly about having to explain their conditions to other people who didn’t experience them. Some had trouble walking or controlling their bodies. Others felt chronic pain or experienced constant negative thoughts in their heads. Their disabilities were things they were born with and had no control over. Similar to Jack’s bad luck.

Jack continued. “It just gets a little stressful sometimes, plus some people think I’m pretty…well, weird ‘cause the whole curse thing and my luck has made me pretty superstitious. It really doesn’t help how people see me with all my behaviors and, um, customs. Heh. (You’d feel the same if you noticed me with four ladybugs on my ears, four leaf clovers and a dreamcatcher around my neck, a rabbit’s foot and dice hanging from my legs and me holding a cricket in a cage. Trying every good luck charm imaginable to counteract the bad. Of course, nothing works.) Most people here kinda avoid me for the most part just seeing what kind of stuff happens and finding me odd.”

“Do you have any real or close friends, Jack?” Cameron asked.

Jack brightened. “Oh yes! I have a few. And honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without my best friend Zill…”

“I think I know him…in Jackie’s class, right?” Cameron asked. “What creature is he anyway?”

“I have no idea! I’m not sure he knows either. In fact, he always seems confused about it.”

“He doesn’t know?”

“I don’t think so!”

“So how long have you known Zill?”

“Since I found him! About thirteen years now,” said Jack.

Cameron appeared confused. “I…I’m sorry, you ‘found’ him?”

“Yeah!”

“What do you mean by that?”

Jack chuckled a bit. “Oh heh-yeah sorry, let me explain!”

Jack then explained the next part of his origins.

“I was born in Safe Haven’s animal district. It’s a kind and more natural environment, so my upbringing was more ‘traditional,’ I guess. My mom never really explained my curse to me when I was younger. I just thought the world was against me and that she didn’t even care. So I ran away from home a lot back then. I just felt I had to escape somehow.”

“It was never much help, but I seemed to kinda enjoy the time away from her. I remember the last time I ran away, I was like five, and during a really foggy rainy night, I took shelter in a tree. I heard some growling in the forest. It was really scary at the time, cause most animals in the district respect private boundaries, plus I was young too…heh. I heard this creature emerge from the bushes. He approached the entrance to where I was hiding. His eyes were glowing green. I had never seen anything like him before and I was extremely scared. He was just really curious of me I think, but he behaved much more…well bestial than what I was used to. He was like…well, an ‘animal,’ which was new for me. Most animals in the district can still speak universally! Especially upon first meeting.”

“Zill was extremely wary of me and I was just terrified! But really he was just extremely curious of me. Unlike me, Zill was just unafraid and bold! Also surprisingly unfazed by my curse. (He put back my broken arm like it was nothing.) In fact, for the first time, I had met someone who not only was unfazed by it, but he actually…intervened! (After water poured on my head from a leaf, he used his wing to keep me dry.) So really, Zill meant a lot to me, almost right off the bat.”

“We actually kinda lived together in the forest for like a full month, getting to know each other as friends. He didn’t talk to me at first, but when he started to talk, he only spoke Spanish! Which was like jibberish to be…heh. So the language barrier was still there, yet we still understood each other somehow. After a while I decided to actually bring Zill home with me! My mom was beyond happy I was back. But she actually didn’t take very warmly to Zill.”

He remembered going along with Zill, with his mother being worried that Zill might harm him. He then told his mother that he didn’t need constant protection all the time.

“How did Zill get his name?” Cameron asked.

“Oh! Well, he spelled his name for me in the dirt while we were in the forest.”

Cameron listened with intent curiosity. “It’s interesting he was so intelligent, despite living in the forest!”

“Well I mean lots of intelligent animals live in the wild! But I understand what you mean. Zill did come off as pretty primitive at first.”

“So did you two live together?”

Jack nodded. “Actually we did! For a little while before we officially started school! Zill was with us through the move to the city district. During those first years, I taught him how to speak English. (Notecards with pictures and words on it were helpful for us. He’d read words like “apple” and lots of food terms to start off with.) By the time we did first start school, he was already decently bi-lingual! A lot of other kids would call Zill names and stuff cause of how he looked. But he never let it get to him though.”

“But when I was picked on…”

Jack remembered Zill admiring a butterfly before he was knocked to the ground by a hard dodgeball to the face. Rusty the bully dog laughed after Jack had fallen.

“Haha! Take that you wimpy loser!”

Zill growled and his eyes flashed green. He shot a flaming dodgeball back at Rusty which hit him in the face with a “wham!” Green energy glowed around his hand.

“Zill didn’t take kindly to that. Neither of us ever really found out how exactly his ‘powers’ seemed to work, but he had a lot less control back then.”

A young Kayla rushed over to Rusty. “Oh gosh! Are you okay?”

But Rusty just elbowed her away, causing her to fall with an “oof!”

“Get off me you dumb girl!”

Zill growled in anger again.

“Zill has always had issues with people who bully or attack.”

Kayla stood up, furious. She separated the two boys. “Stop! No more! I’m fine,” she told Zill. “Both of you! No fighting! This is a playground!”

Rusty scoffed at her. “Get out of my way or I’ll beat you up too! I’m not afraid to hit a dumb girl…”

Kayla then smacked him hard in the face with a “pow!” before he landed flat on his back. Kayla let out a “hmpth” and strolled away. Zill instantly admired her courage and feistiness.

“Zill met his girlfriend Kayla on the first day of grade school,” said Jack.

Cameron gasped. “Oh my! They have been dating for that long? Oh how sweet.”

Jack shook his head. “Oh, no, heh. Zill didn’t get with Kay for a while. Through most of school he was…well, um ‘loose’ with girls. Flirting with them, showing off his strength and dazzling them with his charm. Many teen boys are like that. He always had genuine feelings for Kayla, but he never had the guts to go for her. He just didn’t think she’d be interested. Which I guess was understandable. He didn’t have the best rep with the ladies, growing up. He was a party animal…heh, sorry.”

“But! He used to love to sing! And had a knack for it! So I suggested he try out for the school musical once we entered Z.P.A.! He scored the lead alongside Kayla in the show! (I remember them getting a standing ovation at the end. Zill wore a purple suit and hat while Kayla wore a cross necklace and a blue and white dress.) And that was when they really got to know each other! Once they really got together, Zill really slowed down on his party lifestyle. It was interesting how much of a change there was. But! I was really happy that he had found such a stable relationship. Plus Kayla was a wonderful girl honestly!”

Jack faltered. “But once he started dating…like I said, our relationship kinda, I dunno, changed…”

‘”Our relationship changed?’ How so?” Cameron asked. “Was he just less close as a friend?”

Jack stuttered slightly. “Um, well! I mean, maybe I said that the wrong way. It was just…so hard to explain! He just suddenly had so many friends and attention once he changed with Kayla. I guess I just missed a little of the constant we had before he had such a serious relationship. I’m just a little worried that the way things might progress…”

Tears came to Jack’s eyes, his face glum. “That maybe he…eventually won’t need me as a friend…I’m sorry, it’s a dumb worry…”

“No Jack,” said Cameron. “When a friend starts to change, or befriends other people, it’s normal to feel worried about where you stand. But I’m sure if the two of you are as close as you say, you will never grow apart!”

“Yeah?”

“Ya know, we talked a lot about Zill. Why don’t you tell me more about yourself! Do you have many other friends?”

Jack pondered in thought. “I think that’s why I have this insecurity. Like I said before, I only have a few friends because people are scared to be around me, understandably.” He remembered getting his head sawn off, a beehive landing on his head and getting attacked by a green sewer monster.

“I have one other really close friend but I rarely see her.”

“What about your family?” asked Cameron.

“My family?”

Jack thought of Damion the troublemaker teen jackal, Lucifer and his jackal wife Narissa, Tentradora the succubus pink cyborg nanny and a blue demon guard named Major Styx. (Grumpy Major Styx wanted Damion to be his submissive love servant and Tentradora was very “touchy-feely” and overprotective. Narissa kept to herself and Lucifer was very prideful as a goat-like demon.)

Jack explained, “It’s complicated. I think deep down I love my family, but they do just remind me directly of my curse. My mom Mindy used to take me to visit my uncle and aunt a lot.”

“Your uncle? The devil?”

Jack sighed. “Yeah…”

“I felt very alone when I went there. To Hell. That side of my family has nothing in common with me. Plus when Damian came along he just became a constant pain. Sorry if that’s mean to say. My family makes me look out for him a lot, so I tend to get frustrated with him often. Anyways, even though it was pretty stupid, I decided one day to sneak out of the palace just to clear my head. Hell outside of the protection of the palace gets pretty dangerous. But I kinda stopped worrying about my own physical well-being. So my carelessness caught up with me, and a demon attacked me!”

“A one-eyed, stripped giant monstrosity! It had two slender legs and a tail…and a large maw under its red glowing eye. Yeah, I guess it was pretty freaky. Dangerous situations tend to shock me more than actually scare me. But then Jill showed up.”

Jack remembered a purple cat demon leaping into the air and stabbing the monster with a triangular bladed scythe. After several deep stabs and Jill slicing off its hand, the monster tumbled down to the ground. Jack watched with fear and awe against a rock wall.

“Jill?” asked Cameron. ‘Jack and Jill…’

“Yeah!” said Jack. “I figured I was on the subject of my only close friends. Jill is definitely one of the most important people in my life…heh. She saved me. Besides Zill, she was the only one who ever protected me. Jill and I started spending time with each other after that. She was a stray demon who spent a lot of time fending for herself against other demons.”

Jack added, “Sorry if it seems I’m jumping around too much. I get carried away.”

“It’s fine, Jack,” said Cameron.

Jack continued. “Anyway, I loved spending time with Jill. She was rough with everyone but with me, she was so soft. Her hugs were the best! I snuck out to hang with her during every Hell visit, and as we got older…”

Jack let out a forlorn sigh. “I guess nothing really stays the same.”

“I encouraged her to test herself to be a member of the royal guard. She passed the test with flying colors and was accepted to live in the palace! Lucifer gave her a black collar with a red diamond gem on it to mark her new status. I was so proud of her! She ended up head of the royal guard. I was so happy because we would be able to see each other more often. But then she met this guy she worked with. And kinda…ended up spending more time with him than with me. Which hurt a bit. I had always hoped we would stay close…maybe even get closer.”

“So you had a crush on her?” Cameron asked.

“Well, I crush easily,” Jack answered. “I’m happy she found someone though. She deserves that. So does Zill. I just get lonely...”

After a few sad moments he muttered, “I’m sorry this took a turn. I don’t want it to seem like I’m complaining about the fact they are happy. I hope that’s not what it sounds like.”

Cameron stared with empathy at Jack. “Jack, it’s fine. I can tell you are a very emotional person, and it’s normal to get lonely in your situation. But I really think you’ll be able to find someone for you in time. And talking about these feelings are the point of counseling. So no need to apologize. You seem to talk very highly of others. What about yourself?”

“This event was…not a highly moment...I…there was one time Damion locked me in a locker for a whole week. All because he didn’t want me to tell Zill that he had missed Kayla’s anniversary. S-since I couldn’t die, I was just trapped inside my head…starving, deteriorating, not knowing what time it was. It felt like I was dying again and again in a nightmare. By the time someone found me and unchained me, it had been one week later. Took me a full day of fluids to recover, even though my body regenerated itself. It may sound strange to you but…I wanted desperately to die in those moments.”

A chilling silence permeated the space.

“Sometimes…I wish I hadn’t been born. I wish that dad hadn’t died. Then my mom wouldn’t have been so obsessed with keeping me alive. It feels like Hell much of the time. Sometimes I blame her, wishing she could experience the curse through my eyes. Other times I blame myself; what did I ever do to deserve…”

A few books randomly toppled from a shelf and hit Jack in the head. “…this?” He groaned and rubbed his head.

Cameron looked at Jack with a somber expression. “I’m…sorry you had to go through that. And regarding your curse…no one should have to go through anything like that. I guess death isn’t the worst thing in the world…”

As Jack sobbed and sniffled for several minutes, Cameron walked over and gave him a comforting embrace. Jack breathed deeply, face blushing. Even after Cameron let go, he still felt her warmth and kindness. He wiped more tears away.

“S-sorry…”

“It’s okay Jack.”

“Besides the curse and all the negatives. Tell me about Jackson,” said Cameron.

“Me?”

“Yes! Your interests? Goals? Hobbies? Things that make you happy. Anything!”

Jack thought hard about it. “Um…well let’s see. I play the drums! I play the drums while Spam does guitar and lyrics. Kayla and Zill sing and play piano and Vanexa helps too. I also, um, work part time at the Safe Haven observatory. I really love space. Just everything about the universe and its infinite vastness fascinates me! It’s inspiring. I love studying astronomy and science.”

“Oh!” Cameron exclaimed with joy.

“I also love to cook! That’s my favorite hobby! I don’t have many people to cook for, so I usually take food to the foster home, the same one that took Zill in for a while. I’m still deciding which path I’d like to take for a career, being like a real chef or going into astronomy.”

Jack continued. “Next year is my final year at the academy so I need to decide soon what my final major will be. I’m still able to take plenty of classes for both, though!”

Cameron was very pleased. “Well! Well working at the observatory and being able to exercise your culinary skills gives you a good way to sample your career options. I’m sure you will make the right choice and have a successful career, Jack!”

Jack smiled warmly. “Thank you, Ms. Walden. Thank you for listening! You’re more attentive than the last counselor.”

“Well that’s what I’m here for!”

“So…are you still scared living here after the past few days?” Jack asked.

Cameron glanced off to the side. “Well, uh, ya…I mean…I’m getting used to things. Talking to you wasn’t scary. You are very kind and not frightening at all, past the fur. Which alone is surprising but there are a few people here who don’t scare me as much. So thank you! For not being scary. Is there anything else you’d like to talk about in this session?”

Jack stood up. “I think that’s enough for this time. I don’t want to overwhelm you.”

He opened the door and looked at her one last time with a smile. “Thanks again, Ms. Walden. Welcome to Safe Haven!”

Cameron waved. “Take care, Jackson!”

As Jack was walking down the hall…

Slam!

Rusy slammed him into a locker and he slid to the floor. Rusty barked in laughter, leering over Jack.

“Watch where yer goin’ wimp! Heh heh! You gonna cry or what?”

“No?” Jack whimpered.

“Yeah you are! P*ssy! Ha ha ha ha ha ha!”

Rusty laughed as he strutted away. Jack made his way to the observatory as the setting sun turned the sky a salmon pink. He spotted a blonde man wearing glasses and a blue suit with a tight white collar.

“Hey Dan!”

The man smiled. “Jack! You’re early! It’s barely dark out!”

“Yeah. I feel like coming in before my shift to relax a bit. Can I go up?”

“Of course! Nobody is up there right now.”

“Thanks Dan!”

Jack slipped on a blue uniform and climbed up the stars. He made it to the top and his eyes grew wide in wonder. Yellow ethereal koi fish swam and glided across the starry night sky. The spotted bioluminescent midnight blue whale traveled beside the fish as well. The city lights and the greenhouse globe buildings illuminated the night in their spectacular vivid glows. One building was pink, the other a faded golden yellow. Jack became transfixed by the spirits. For the first time in a while, he felt hopeful and positive.

Jack smiled and sighed contently as he gazed dreamily up at the Fish of Peace. “It’s never lonely at night.”

Despite the bad luck, Jack knew he wasn’t alone. He had Zill, Spam, Vanexa, Jill, Kayla…all those who cared for him. His bandmates were the ones who helped save him from a monster, and it led to him being more tolerant of his curse. Zill had tried to “save” him multiple times by deflecting the bad luck events but Jack didn’t want him to get hurt. Instead of exhausting themselves to try and stop the curse, Jack’s friends helped pull himself together (literally and figuratively) and were simply there to support him after the bad moments. Although some of them were often preoccupied with lovers, they would always come back for Jack. For he was the silent supporting stone of their bonds.

And now he had Cameron…a loving mentor…and perhaps a new mother-like figure in his life. Although he had a crush on her, it was not solely romantic. It was mixed with feelings of appreciation and friendship.

Jack felt at home with himself for the first time in years. Because he realized an enlightening truth: not even a curse could keep his friends away.

0 0 0

Zechariah was busy jotting down notes at his desk when Cameron entered the room.

“Z-Zechariah?” Cameron asked.

“Miss Cameron!” Zechariah greeted. “Did your first session go well?”

Cameron smiled, pleased to have helped out Jack. Helping others made her feel truly at home for the first time. “Actually, it really did!”

#zoophobia #vivziepop #zoophobiacomic #hazbinhotel #badluckjack

5 notes · View notes

jj-ktae · 4 years

Text

Papers, II

Title : Papers Pairing : Park Jinyoung x Fem!Reader Genre : Victorian Era, Romance, Fluff, Angst, smut-ish, Words : 2484 Summary : In the merciless 1850′s, Park Jinyoung finds solace in tiny pieces of paper and their owner. Will be updated every Wednesday at 9 p.m CEST.

Prologue - I -

II,

Jinyoung wouldn’t say he is easy to disconcert. He saw too much to be concerned about trivial issues and his personality took the same way; he cannot be bothered easily.

Still, after recovering from the initial shock, his mind went into chaos. He blamed it on his overly imaginative self even as he tried to understand who the person could be.

She isn’t a student; none of them would wander the school outside of their usual schedule. They call themselves artists but their involvement with their surroundings is close to non-existent.

She can’t be a teacher. There is only one woman teaching and she hasn’t been around lately.

As Jinyoung falls on the slightly ripped couch and breathes the humid ambient air, he comes to the only conclusion he can feel satisfied with.

She has to be one of the persons in charge of keeping the school clean. He had seen a couple of women, all in their forties, walking around with their brooms.

They usually never work during class hours and hug the walls in fear of being noticed covered in dirt.

Jinyoung snorts, it’s not like they are doing the dirty work because the spoiled kids can’t take care of themselves.

So it makes sense. An old lady being bored and finding entertainment in chatting with a young gentleman is not shocking. It’s a good way to go unnoticed.

“I’m hungry,” Jackson cuts his thoughts with a grunt, “all we have are onions.”

“I thought there was bread left…” Jaebeom answers as he starts looking around the minuscule kitchen. He comes back with an old piece of half mouldy bread and tilts his head.

He hates that he even has to fill his stomach.

Money is something that comes in very little among for them. They usually take turns helping around in a small factory nearby but Jackson had to punch one the guy there.

It seems he didn’t like being called the filthy and useless orphan.

“There’s only the mine left.” Jinyoung concludes, “I will go tomorrow and ask if they have something for us. Next time keep your anger to yourself, Jackson.”

He sounds like he is scolding him but he is boiling inside. Jinyoung would have done way worse than a punch but he knows better than to let himself starve. There is only one way to survive and it doesn’t involve fighting for your own principles.

Sadly.

Jackson doesn’t say more but still, he joins Jaebeom. “Let’s just make a soup with the onions.” Jinyoung hears him cough loudly for a good minute before leaning against the couch.

He cannot stand the situation anymore.

He shouldn’t be worried about surviving; he should enjoy youth and have minor problems. He wants to worry about his future for a good reason, he wants to wake up without grimacing at how his stomach hurts.

His childhood was one of an orphan. It started with death and kept being surrounded by it. The orphanage wasn’t only a place of regular beating and fighting, it was also where they took the kids to work.

It was common until recently. Children would work wherever it was needed. The orphanages were the easiest place to find young people without family to put them to work.

From six to thirteen he, Jaebeom and Jackson wandered the coal mines, covered in dust and breathing the disgusting air. Several acts were made, but these applied to the kids with family who could report to the police.

It certainly didn’t apply to orphans whose only guardians were greedy people.

It’s a mystery how they survived, for most the other kids developed diseases or even died while working.

Jinyoung remembers how Jackson would try to protect them by working the most. He would be doing the job of three kids so that Jinyoung and Jaebeom would rest while no one was working. Back then he was already the most robust and lively of them three.

Hearing him cough so loudly puts him in such a state of rage.

There is nothing he can do about it; Jackson is stubborn and keeps on practicing swordsmanship while working an insane number of hours to bring money.

He barely lets them go in his place, explaining they have better things to do, almost begging them to make it with their intelligence and rely on his strength to take them out of here.

Guilt often adds to the number of things Jinyoung worries about.

So he fights, even though literature is annoying, even though he wants to run away and hide somewhere safe.

Jaebeom puts a worn-out bowl of soup in front of him and again, he wants to cry.

The amphitheatre is huge, Jinyoung thinks. They barely ever enter this room as most of their class are held in smaller rooms. The art department takes most of the space since many more students attend their classes.

Painting seems to be much more coveted.

He sits in silence, his shabby-looking bag now on the floor. He never uses it, mostly because it looks like a rag, but also because he hates weighing himself down with useless things. Today though, he has to go and find them a new place to earn money and he can’t risk his notebook falling into coal.

The teacher enters and starts explaining the importance of commas in sentences.

Jinyoung wants to sleep already.

It lasts for what seems like an eternity and Jinyoung ends up trying to find more inspiration. He takes the notes you had left behind in hope it would help and surprisingly it does. He writes five pages of his story. It evolved from the encounter of two people hidden behind pieces of paper to interrogations about the society and what it holds. He kept the identities secret, just like they are in reality.

Jaebeom has to nudge him when the class ends, so he absent-mindedly throws his notebook in the bag and walks away. He should hurry before the mine’s chief leaves.

He apprehends going there but he has no choice. He knows none of them want to go back there but it is the easiest way to get money without dealing with disrespectful people. The mine is like hell but everyone is the same under the ground.

It doesn’t take long to convince the chief. He is glad to find more people willing to risk their lives as apparently, he lost a few recently. The wage isn't big as expected, but it’s enough to eat more than rotten onions and mouldy bread.

“Why do you want to take turns? I’ve got kids working all day here.” The chief doesn’t know how painful these words are.

“We are students, sir.” Is all he answers; he certainly doesn’t want to explain how none of them are going to ruin their lives here daily.

The man is bewildered but he smiles, his dirty teeth appearing. “Why do you want to work here if you have money-”

“We don’t. We are orphans.” Jinyoung cuts through gritted teeth.

The chief ends up laughing so loud that Jinyoung wants to beat him up.

“I see...we can’t have you leech off society, right? Do as you please, I want one of you here every day. Money is once a week.”

Jinyoung takes a deep breath before nodding.

“Starting tomorrow, 8 p.m. until 8 a.m.” is what seals the deal. Jinyoung is absolutely not pleased as he leaves the place.

He is about to go back home when he feels his bag lighter than it is supposed to be.

When he opens it and notices the notebook missing, he runs back into the mine at full speed.

When you hear about the classroom not being used anymore your first reaction is to be relieved. You don’t know why but something seemed abnormal with this gentleman and his questions. You have no idea if he saw your answer but there is no need for you to worry about it anymore.

Life is about to go back to normal and you don’t know if it is for the best or not.

Vivienne has been teasing you about how you had been anticipating this exchange and you had brushed her off, explaining that there is nothing to be excited about.

This could cost more than it could bring.

You enter the numerous rooms one after the others, not without secretly checking under the tables.

It makes you wonder.

What would have been his answer?

Maybe he would have agreed; the rich love being flattered, anyways. He would have written about how true what you answered was, about how the wealthy are the cornerstones of the society and how everyone should be thankful for their hard work.

So yes, it’s probably for the best.

“They told me the main amphitheatre would be used for more classes now. The one where you have been sticking the notes is going to be renovated.” Vivienne announces from behind you.

“I know…” you utter.

So much for being relieved.

You open the door of the amphitheatre and start from the tables. You hate this room; it is big and it means more work for you but today is payday and you promised you would buy a cake for Vivienne’s birthday even though she told you to keep your money.

“Do they not teach them how to use a bin?” The latter is already complaining, making you smile in the middle of your work.

The sun is rapidly falling, painting the room with shades of pink and purple so you work faster. You don’t want to go back home at ungodly hours again.

Yesterday you spent an hour cleaning the stains of paint on the floor and even your skin itches from the amount of alcohol you used.

You’re sweeping between the tables when you find a notebook.

Vivienne is cleaning the huge board when you pick it up, puzzled. You look around before kneeling to grab it.

The handwriting is messy but it looks like it belongs to a student. There are notes, tiny drawings and lost sentences. Pieces of paper fall from between two pages. You pick one and your eyes go wide when you find your own handwriting.

These are the notes you left to the young gentleman.

“Sir, if you’re looking for the room being renovated, it is in the other part of the building.” Vivienne speaks loudly, making you look up from your spot between the tables.

You turn around, surprised to see a guy standing. He is breathless, his face and clothes are covered in coal and he is way too sweaty.

“Sir, I can take you-”

“I’m not here to renovate this goddamn place.” The answer startles the two of you but when you find him looking at you before approaching, you don’t need more explanations.

You get up, the notebook in your hands and the pieces of paper back on the floor.

He stops before you, his eyes so deep it makes you take a couple of steps back.

Jinyoung looks down and finds your answers, forgotten between dust. He sighs and leans to pick them up before extending his hand.

“I forgot my notebook.”

You blink, mouth opened. Didn’t he say he is a student? Why would a student be covered in coal and be this dishevelled?

“...you are...a student?” Vivienne gasps, realizing she had been speaking this way to someone who isn’t part of the school personnel. “I’m sorry sir.” she lets the dirty sponge fall back into her bucket before hurrying toward you. “We shall leave.” her eyes find the floor instantly.

Eye-contact with a wealthy person is something no sane - and poor - person should do.

She grabs your arm to take you out but Jinyoung is quick to grab your arm.

You’re done for. You are going to get fired, beaten, criticized by the whole neighbourhood for doing such a rude thing.

Jinyoung sees it, the way fear appears on your face, the way you wish the ground would swallow you. Even covered in coal, dirty and smelling like sweat and humidity, you still think he belongs to a class that you should bow to and beg for mercy.

Anger takes him, makes him forget about how absurd the situation is, blurs his vision, covers everything from the ground to your devastating beauty.

He snorts and tilts his head. “So, care to tell me what you think about the rich again?”

How did he even know it was you?

Vivienne freezes, a hand going to her mouth but before she can beg you again to leave, you stop her.

“Wait for me outside. You have nothing to do with this so leave.” You look at her with a tender smile, one she recognizes as resignation toward your fate.

“I will...wait for you.” She whispers, not daring enough to look at a fuming Jinyoung.

Once she is gone you hand the notebook to Jinyoung before freeing yourself from his grip.

“I am sorry for what I did, sir. I didn’t wish to look into your belongings nor did I think before answering the notes I found. I will leave and never find myself before you ever again so I beg you to forget about my friend who isn’t involved in such idiocy.” It is your only option. You will endure everything before leaving and pray for this incident not to spread in any way.

You know how things go when someone makes a mistake. No mistake is allowed for people like you.

Jinyoung grabs his notebook before shaking his head.

“You didn’t answer.” is all he says.

You want to cry when you bow to recite the praises.

“As I already answered, the rich are the essence of-”

“Is that what you really think? Even covered in dirt, even when you have to kneel every day, beg for forgiveness, fight for food and act like you are invisible?” Jinyoung is smiling when you get back up. “You don’t want them to disappear? You don’t want the rich to pay for the way they treat the poor? YOU DON’T HATE THEM?” He ends up yelling when he finds himself unable to control his feelings.

“No, sir.”

Jinyoung laughs, “Well, I do.” he says before turning around. His knuckles are turning white from how tight he is gripping the notebook.

It takes a while for you to process the words but when you fully grasp what he just said, you speak again.

“Why?”

Jinyoung stops. He doesn’t turn around, but you guess he is still angered by the situation.

“Because of how frightened you are. Because we must beg for forgiveness even when we did nothing wrong. Because no matter how I torture myself, I will never understand how inequitable this bloody society is. Nonetheless, you risk nothing with the filthy me, young lady.”

And he leaves.

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crackinglamb · 4 years

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I was wondering if I could ask you about Solas? See, I've never really understood his appeal as a character, let alone a LI. And in the past, I'd usually say something brash an insensitive about a character I didn't like, or more mortifying I'd do them a serious injustice in my writing. I was hoping you could tell me more about him. He's always seemed so harsh, so judgemental, and I personally hate how he ends his relationship with the inquisitor, but maybe I haven't given him a fair shake?

See, a year ago I would have been in complete agreement with you. All I knew about him was what I’d seen or heard from fandom sources. Then I started writing Maker Damned Fools for the Fluff-uary prompts and he was a side character. So I started to do some research. He’s a conflicted Boomer, a rebellious mage god and quite possibly the most complex character I’ve ever run across in a video game. And you’re about to get an essay, so I’ll put it under a cut.

Solas has woken to a world he is responsible for creating and to his eyes initially, it’s horrible. And in typical fashion, he thinks he can fix it by doing it over. Rather like the way the Inquisitor who sides with the mages prevents the red future from happening at Redcliffe. I am by no means excusing his attitude or plans. They’re terrible and lack critical information and perspective, imo. But I can understand why he wants to fix what he thinks he did wrong.

He has a reputation for being a liar, but aside from a single instance, he never actually says something untrue. He bends the truth until it squeaks and allows the listener to come to their own conclusion, whether it’s the right one or not. He’s been reviled by generations of elves as a traitor to the gods, but he was actually rebelling against what constituted a government that would ruin the world and everything in it. This isn’t to say he didn’t do terrible things, he absolutely did. He threw down those in power and imprisoned them. He made the Veil, which in turn reduced his people to a shadow of themselves. They were conquered and enslaved. He wore himself out so thoroughly he took a several millennia long depression nap and was powerless to stop everything he did from falling apart. I can fully understand why he would want to fix that upon waking.

Solas exists in a Schrodinger’s paradox state. Gaining his high approval (which is remarkably easy, even without romance) makes him understand that modern Thedas is beautiful in its own right and that if he goes ahead with his plans, he will destroy that. However, low approval confirms all his worst fears and he is even more determined to fix what went ‘wrong’. He is the only companion whose attitude is completely dependent on how the Inky treats the world and himself. It always makes me laugh when people say Solas is an asshole, because in order for that to happen, one has to deliberately make him that way. He is forming his opinion of this new world that’s utterly foreign to him by how he’s treated in it, which is completely natural.

I went into my first playthrough having all the spoilers. I didn’t hold out much hope for him as a character, and didn’t get why he has such a popular standing as a romance option. I get it now.

Solas approves of anything you do that is compassionate and kind. He likes it when you ask questions, even if you disagree with him. There's always a way to get him to see another perspective (if you’re a Dalish Inky anyway) and salvage the conversation to a good place. He approves of treating all thinking beings, including spirits, as people and with respect. He abhors violence for its own sake, willful destruction (which is ironic, yes), and giving power to the ambitious, such as siding with the Templars and allowing the Grey Wardens to stay in Orlais. He dislikes the Qun and Tevinter because he absolutely detests slavery of any kind. His friendships with the rest of the companions often start off rocky, but grow to be healthy and respectful (for the most part, he never gets on with Vivienne and his relationship with Blackwall turns...self-projecting).

He doesn’t sound like much of a monster, does he?

You mentioned romance. Part of what makes it delicious is that it’s doomed. He’s gonna break Inky’s heart and his own. It’s awful. It’s a goddamned Shakespearean level tragedy. It’s slow and hesitant and fragile. It has nine separate ways to end. It’s deliberately ambiguous in terms of whether or not it’s a physical relationship. It’s the only one without a repeatable scene. It is frustratingly genuine, full of doubt and worry and honest emotion that terrifies him, I think.

You take an immortal near god and plunk him into chaos of his own making and he potentially comes to care for a person who was in the wrong place at the right time and got sucked into his machinations through no fault of their own. And they change...everything. At least as far as his emotions are concerned. He feels that what he’s doing is his duty, either because he’s that stuck in it or because he’s under the thrall of Mythal (there’s some debate). And it’s heart wrenching for him to continue even just friendship, which is why he leaves. He feels like he can’t tell Inky the truth about himself or his plans, because how could anyone still care about him after that? There’s some serious self-loathing going on there. And I imagine at least a few of those players who romance him are doing it from a need to show that a character like that is still worthy of being loved.

Bioware has a lot of problems, I don’t think anyone would disagree. But something they do very right is the morally gray area. Solas/Fen’Harel is the epitome of that moral grayness. Is he a literal demon monster, self absorbed and determined to destroy everything for some idealistic greater good? Is he a man with a decent, soft heart who has a duty he hates? Yes, he’s both.

Hope that helps, and thanks for the ask.

#ask #meta #solas #Lamb rambles #long post

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remys-lucky-franc · 4 years

Text

Comfort - Remy POV Fic (Queen of Thieves)

“Hey, I wanna ask for a Remy angst. Are you allowed to write angst?”

I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to write this for you, life’s just been a bit crazy between work and studying lately, and it’s so annoying because I’ve had some really nice requests that I’m excited to write for people, but I just haven’t had any time to work on them! Anyway, I really hope you enjoy this @ilovewritingfics 💕

Notes: although it’s written from Remy’s POV (I’ve never written a POV before for anything!), the fic is set in Nikolai’s route, which sounds weird, but you’ll see what I mean. No specific TWs for the fic, it covers Nikolai’s trauma surrounding his family, so if you aren’t up to date and don’t want a spoiler on that, or if it’s upsetting to you, consider giving this one a miss.

Word Count 2100

I want to credit my lovely friend @stopforamoment for her suggestion on the topic for this short fic - thank you lovely.

—-

[MORE] [[MORE]]

Dinner Club. One of my favourite things we do together. Every member of The Gilded Poppy is different and everyone has their own interests, of course. But this is something we can all enjoy, and I love this family time so much: everyone laughing, sharing food, telling stories, teasing each other... It’s always such fun to be part of this, and after a successful heist, it’s even better!

After all, tonight we have a beautiful vintage fencing sword in our possession! I know, it’s part of a much larger plan, but for tonight at least, stealing it has made Niko really happy, and that makes me happy. He’s sitting at the end of the table with a glint in his eye, listening to Daisy and Leon chatter joyfully about the (I must say, very predictable) ‘twist’ at the end of some romance novel. It’s a glint that I’ve seen a lot since Daisy joined our (very attractive) crime family. I smile to myself as I watch how her cheeks colour so prettily when she notices his eyes fixed on her, like she’s the only person in the room. It’s been a long time since I’ve saw Niko’s interest pique the way it does when she’s close by, if ever, actually. The energy between them, it’s something quite unique: special. She’s a match for him in ways I’ve never seen before, and the challenge is good for him. It’s like she set off a spark in him and all of the wonderful things that make him Niko, are just ‘more’ with her around. I watch them play their game - anticipation, flirtation, power and control - I’m well-versed in ‘love’ and seduction (some would say ‘a master’) but this something else: it’s not part of a con, not something ‘to get out of your system’... I only hope Daisy doesn’t tire of it, because I’ve never seen someone get the better of Nikolai Stirling the way she can.

I lean forward skewering something delicious from the sharing platter in front of me, popping it into my mouth, laughing along to the friendly debate Zoe, Jett and Vivienne are having. Vivienne’s losing her argument and is trying to convince me to fight her corner, but I’m too preoccupied with how I could use my conman charms to ‘gently persuade’ my best friend and Daisy to forget who is winning their mindgames and push them closer together. Niko will hate me meddling, but it’s for his own good! Maybe tomorrow I can-

My plotting is abruptly ended as the waiter heading to a table behind us is jostled by a man who tries to squeeze past him in a space that’s too narrow. It’s like the world slows down... I can see what’s unfolding, but I’m powerless: I have no time, no way of stopping it. The waiter loses his footing, one arm flailing. I’m holding my breath! He recovers (barely) without falling over, but not before the glass of Amarone perched on his tray swirls and sloshes to one side, a crescendo of blood-red bursting free down the front of Nikolai’s crisp white shirt. The bold bouquet of fruit and spice hits my nose as deep red splatters bleed and seep across the fabric. Nikolai is frozen, complete horror etched across his face. Suddenly, all I can see is the scared fifteen year-old I befriended on the streets of Paris carrying a sick kitten.

The waiter has discarded his tray; he’s panicked and apologising to Nikolai, fumbling for a napkin to try to blot away the mess. Our friends have noticed, but before anyone else can react, I’m halfway across the table with the salt cellar slipped inside my pocket. I wrap one comforting arm around Niko, my other hand on the waiters arm, reassuring him (in flawless Italian, of course) that everything is under control and I’ll take it from here. Within seconds, I have Nikolai on his feet, gripping him close to me as I guide him towards the restroom: always moving forward. I keep my free arm across his chest, deliberately, to shield the stains from his sight; leaning in close, chattering to distract him. Anything I can do, anything to keep him walking until I can get him inside. He’s hyperventilating by the time we enter the plush restroom, and fortunately it’s empty.

“Niko? Breathe. Slowly. Come on.”

He’s still not responding, I gently put pressure on his shoulder, manoeuvring him onto an Art Deco-style chaise beside a large mirror. I crouch in front of him, cupping his face in my hands, offering comfort, speaking softly,

“It’s ok. I’m here. Your Remy’s got you. It’s going to be ok. You’re safe.”

It’s a mantra I repeat several times over while he trembles. Minutes feel much longer, but now his breathing is slowing and for the first time since the spillage, he makes eye contact with me. I’m so relieved! I nod and smile before I press a heartfelt kiss to his cheek. The worst has passed. He’s going to be ok.

I pause, taking just a few seconds to catch my own breath: getting him away from the table to a safe space, keeping him moving, it was all automatic, all done on instincts. But now, my mind races. I’m so glad this happened when I was at the table; would anyone else have been able to get him out the way I did? Would he have let anyone else lead him off like this? He looked so vulnerable just now, it breaks my heart to think of it...

‘Focus, Remy. Come on. You’re not done yet.’

I lean back, fingers shifting to his collar, offering him my most suggestive grin,

“Lose the shirt.”

Nikolai manages a weak laugh (I knew that would get him!) as his fingers move toward his buttons, I realise a second too late that his hands are shaking too much to undo them. He mutters a strangled apology and rakes a hand through his dark hair as I make short work of them, startled by just how hard his heart hammers inside his chest, even now, minutes after the incident. He shrugs his way out of the shirt and I take it to the counter, grabbing some paper towels to blot out the liquid before dumpling half of the stolen salt cellar onto the stain. Selecting an expensive-looking cologne from the selection provided, I head back to Niko, spritzing it around him as I go, trying to erase the lingering scent of the alcohol from his nostrils.

As I join him on the chaise, he clears his throat awkwardly, his usually crisp clear voice barely audible at all,

“Thank you.”

I bump my shoulder against his, still trying to lighten the mood,

“Pas de problème.”

He still looks like he’s met a ghost, and I can feel the seat vibrate under me from his agitated tapping foot. But at least he’s speaking to me: when things have happened before, things that have triggered horrible memories for him, sometimes it’s taken hours to get him to even look at me. The first time it happened, long before The Gilded Poppy existed, we were only street kids, sleeping rough and begging. I’ll never forget it as long as I’m alive. A group of men left a bar near where we were hoping to earn a few francs, one of them was worse for wear and fell to the ground, vomiting. It wasn’t until I turned to Niko, ready to make some sassy comment about how the drunk couldn’t hold his liquor or his wallet, that I realised something was very, very wrong. It took hours for him to come back around, and days to feel better afterwards... I didn’t have a very happy childhood, and I was forced to grow up quickly, but not in the same way as Niko. The things he suffered... I can’t help but put myself into his shoes, picturing my family around our small dinner table, my lovely old meme, my mother bringing food to the table, my father chatting to my young brother about school... How unreal it must have felt to Niko, how terrifying. I cannot begin to imagine: to watch your whole family die... And such a painful death... It’s little wonder it haunts him. I scrub my hand across my eyes trying to shake the sickening scene.

I clap my hand on Niko’s knee as I stand, heading back to check how the salt is working on his shirt: it may seem ridiculous, but a conman has to think fast, and you never know when a cleaning tip like this will be useful! Of course, the shirt is looking much better - now I just need to rinse it and dry it off. Almost done. I bustle around the washbasin, running the breast of Niko’s shirt under the piping water, rinsing away the salt, pink dye flowing down the drain, erasing tonight’s events. I hold it up to the lights, smiling as I do.

“I think the shirt will survive, Niko.”

I start the hand drier, just as I hear Niko murmur something, far too low for me to hear over the roar,

“What was that?”

I stop, making my way back across to the chaise, gesturing for Niko to repeat himself. He looks up at me with the saddest blue eyes,

“I never wanted her to see me, like, this. How can she...” His posture visibly stiffens, “She won’t respect me after this?”

I frown. Of course, he’s talking about Daisy. And something in his voice tells me that Daisy’s ‘respect’ isn’t the feeling he’s truly worried about, but while he’s shirtless in a restaurant bathroom really isn’t the best time for me to play Cupid... I try to tell Nikolai that Daisy is the last person who would think any less of him because of this, she is so lovely: surely he knows her well enough, to know that? Daisy is sensitive and kind: she would understand. But he’s still shaken and so agitated about what happened at the table, my honest words make no difference; his barricades are going up and he mutters that he doesn’t want her pity. I make a show of raising one eyebrow at him, and shaking my head before I march back to the hand drier. I love Niko dearly, but he can be so stubborn, it makes me crazy!

Ten minutes later, Niko is looking much more collected, and is back in his gleaming white shirt: I am a man of many talents, it’s true! He straightens himself up in front of the mirror as I watch on: it’s almost as though nothing ever happened. We exit the restroom and rejoin our friends. Everyone is wonderfully discrete: they pretend we never left the table. Niko doesn’t utter a single word for the rest of the evening. His expression is strained and he doesn’t touch a bite of his food - he’s going through the motions but I know he can’t wait for the evening to end. I chip in some delightful anecdotes to help keep the conversation flowing, but what happened tonight weighs heavily on me: what if this happened and I wasn’t here? What if something like this happened on a heist? What if I couldn’t get to him? What would we do? How could I keep my best friend safe? What if something went wrong and I wasn’t around anymore? Who else understands like me?

I meet Daisy’s big brown eyes over the table, concern is written across her face. She really cares for Niko, it’s so obvious. I wish he would let her in... Having someone else who loves you, an extra person in this world looking out for you, to rely on... She could be the best thing that ever happened to him. She could make him happy, I can see it all.

I make a silent promise to myself: they say that love will find a way? Well, it certainly will when Remy Chevalier helps it along.

#queen of thieves #lovestruck fic #remy chevalier

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secretsfromwholecloth · 4 years

Text

Dragon Age: Inquisition, day 13.

Right, I was in the middle of some pain. Come on, Thom, let’s get this over with.

Anchoret certainly doesn’t want the man dead or else she would’ve just left him in Val Royeaux, and the option to order him to continue his impersonation of Blackwall is...faintly horrifying, but she’s also not about to just pardon someone who did that. (He doesn’t want to be pardoned. He’d fight her. They’ve been butting heads a lot lately, and it’s making her tired.) The Wardens it is. It’s a good solution.

...why am I having such a hard time clicking the option? I knew from the beginning that “pack him off to the Wardens” was going to be the plan in any playthrough where I’m not romancing him. I’m not romancing him this time. Well, brain? Come on now. We can pardon him another time, with an Inquisitor who loves him like we do.

The two of them are never exactly going to be besties, especially not after all this, but they’re not not friends, and Anchoret would rather not see the person he’s grown into in his time as a “Warden” go to waste. She’s given the “come work for me, I’ll use your asshole powers for good” treatment to worse people by this point.

“Blackwall gave you the chance to atone through action, not merely punishment. I find I can do no less.” What a line.

On a lighter note, since Florianne is dead, it’s time for the cadaver synod. Unlike her predecessor, Anchoret just wants this over with and the box out of her damn throne room, so no community service for it.

So, Solas, you have prior experience with court intrigue and don’t consider elves “your people” (or indeed consider yourself to have a “people” in common with Anchoret at all). Anything else you want to let slip and end up having to backtrack in a panic?

Oh! Didn’t realize it was time for a romance scene. Well, let’s see what we’ve got here.

It’s the desk scene! Gah, at least sweep up the broken glass before one of you steps on it barefoot. You can make a game of it. And then get naked once it’s safe. And Cullen, please for the love of the Maker take your armor off before climbing on top of anyone. My sternum is aching in sympathy.

For those following along at home: One of ourself is aroace. The other is aro and...sufficiently ace-spec that ourself’s day-to-day experience can be pretty well described as “ace”. The upshot of this is that “sexy” is utterly, utterly lost on me—at best it doesn’t register, at worst I find it horrifying. Similarly with “romantic”. So when I play through this romance, and in particular this scene, where being sexy and romantic is pretty much the entire point? This happens. Sorry for...being me, I guess.

Got all your clothes back on before he’s even woken up, Anchoret? When he’s clearly not sleeping well and would probably prefer to wake up and have you still there? Naughty. What happened to “lie in their bed naked while they get dressed and start their day trying not to let you distract them”? No? Just me?

Hey, the smutty literature scene! Cassandra’s writer is one I get mad at a lot—he has some habits that absolutely drive me up the goddamn wall—but he’s also given us some extremely sweet material. Like this bit.

Cassandra, if you ever thought Anchoret wasn’t going to run straight to Varric with this, you know her less well than you think.

Anyway, time to go get that wyvern for Vivienne. Bringing Cole and Sera along, because...reasons? Apparently I feel no need to make the experience a pleasant one for poor Vivienne, but then she seemed distressed enough that I’m not sure she’s going to notice.

OK, this is supposed to be snowy wyvern central, where is the fucker?

That is not a snowy wyvern. That is a high dragon. That is not what I am hunting.

There’s the bastard! Got it. And you know what, I’m feeling dragony, let’s take a swing at the Gamordan Stormrider since it’s right there.

Ooh, it’s not one of the ones that does the guard thing, either. Well, that cleaned me completely out of healing potions, and Cole and Vivienne needed manual revives, but the dragon went down reasonably quickly. And Cole got a very nice new dagger out of the whole business.

Sticking around to mop up Citadelle du Corbeau and the rest of the Exalted Plains really gave the three of them time to drive each other completely around the bend, I love it.

Poor Vivienne. Well, that’s done.

I love Cole’s quest. The high emotions, the little glimpses of how Cole can be a genuine terror, all of it. (Making him more human this time, because why not.)

Aww, the scene with Cassandra confessing her admiration and wondering what comes next is really very sweet.

I will once again be skipping the Trans 091 portion of the evening. I am not, as it happens, the target audience.

The Wicked Grace scene is still adorable. Though Cullen, sweetheart, it’s not like Anchoret hasn’t seen you naked before. Come on now.

I’ve completely neglected the Fallow Mire, now that I think about it. Let’s head out. Bringing Blackwall, Cole, and...hm, who should my mage be? There’s “point and laugh while they drive each other monkey crackers” potential with all three of them, frankly. I think I’ll go with Dorian for now, I can swap someone else in later if need be.

For all the bickering, for all the unpleasant business in Val Royeaux, Blackwall still gets defensive about Anchoret to the Avvar. It’s sweet. Even if it’s just a consequence of me doing stuff out of order.

And with Sky-Watcher recruited and the Fallow Mire nearly cleared out, that’s a good place to pack it in for the night. More tomorrow.

#dragon age #dragon age: inquisition #anchoret lavellan

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