#extra points if you can guess the familiar faces among the comments in the stream | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

offspring-of-calliope · 4 years

Text

Peculiar (Newsies Fanfiction) - Chapter 1

Description: Jack Kelly is having a strange encounter on the street.

words: 1696

A/N: This AU was kinda inspired by Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children, so it's basically that some of the Newsies, the Peculiars, have powers and all the Manhattan Newsies live with Medda in the Theatre. Then, there are also those who chase after Peculiars, the Collectors. I'm not quite sure where I want to go with this story bc initially, I only wanted to practice my 'English skills' (she said, sitting in front of her computer like: 'How to English?') and suddenly I had a whole AU in my head. So if you wish for certain scenes or something, you can put your wishes in the comments and I might comply. One thing I'm certain of, however, is my choice of main pairings: Javid and Sprace. But I might include other pairings as well.

I hope you enjoy.

Sincerely, me

Lélodie

-----

The sky was still being shadowed by dark clouds, even though the rain had stopped approximately three hours ago. Puddles decorated the streets which were filled with busy people, running back and forth while being indifferent to the world around them. And right among these apathetic businessmen, there was a vivid, excited boy, no older than seventeen – Jack Kelly.

The newspapers in his hand felt kind of damp to him but that didn't keep him from advertising news after news, praising the papers as if they were the most precious things on earth.

“Extra! Extra!” Jack cried, followed by made-up headlines nobody bothered to check when buying the paper. It was already late in the evening and most of the papers were sold by now. A little more time passed and eventually, there was only one paper left.

Jack, who did not seem to be quite satisfied with his day's pay, looked around the street until he suddenly caught sight of a well-dressed man who was heading towards his carriage. 'Well, that looks promising,' Jack thought, straightening his collar and making his way over to the man.

“Extra! Extra, good man! A whole factory going up in flames and -”, he began but the man interrupted him with a dismissive gesture of his hand.

“Move, boy. I do not have time for this nonsense.”

“Surely, you're a very important fella, dear sir, but if ya'd just buy a pape -”

The man looked at him in disgust. “I have no intention on doing business with a dirty little boy from the street.” With these words, he entered his carriage, leaving Jack standing like a fool on the street.

“Whatever ya say, good fella, but I's by no means little, nor dirty! And I'd never do business with such an arrogant sucker either!” Jack didn't know why the words of the man had bothered him this much but it was probably because he was tired, exhausted and just wanted to return to the theatre to get a good night's sleep. He was going to continue his quest to sell the last paper when suddenly the carriage was set in motion, purposefully driving through a puddle on the ground so that a bunch of muddy water was being splashed all over him.

“Alright, you sucker, ya totally owe me a new shirt, this one's brand new!” He called after the disappearing carriage. “There goes a four month's pay,” he eventually mumbled, eyeing his body. The dirt felt familiar yet unpleasant on his skin. He hesitated. Next thing he knew, he was making his way towards the nearest dark alley he could find.

A considering look down the alley. Then, he let his powers do the work. A stream of clear water crawled along his arms, his neck, his face and was softly cleaning his body. Jack smiled as he navigated the cool stream, letting it embrace him like a safe blanket or the arms of a person that felt like home. For a short moment, he closed his eyes. Forgetting the world around him that only wanted to harm him and pushed him from one danger towards the next. Forgetting that he had to work under inhuman conditions, day after day. Forgetting everything. And for a short moment, he imagined being in Santa Fe, where everything would be okay.

Then, there came the self-satisfied laughter.

Startled, Jack opened his eyes and found himself faced with a big, bulky guy with crooked teeth and large ears. “Well, well, look what we have here. A Peculiar and a very precious one at that.” The guy held a club in his hands that he'd probably stolen from one of the policemen at some point. The self-satisfied laughter turned into a sinister smirk.

Abruptly, Jack stopped the flowing water and looked around him, searching for an escape route. But he was stuck in a cul-de-sac and the way back to the main street was blocked by Bulky Guy. “Yeah, well, what's it to you, man? You's gonna mind ya own business?” Trying to hide the nervousness that was burning him up from within, Jack settled for a daring grin.

“Oh, so you're a bigmouth, too, huh? This is gonna be so much fun.”

Jack saw the first blow coming. He lifted his arm to block it and stretched out his leg to kick Bulky Guy in the knee. The rest of the fight was kind of a blur to him. Every time it occurred to him that the opportunity to flee had come – Bulky Guy definitely had the upper hand -, his opponent seemed to be reading his mind and was once again blocking his path. Jack wasn't a fool. He knew that he was too tired to keep on for much longer and a little voice in his head was constantly persuading him into using his powers. But he did not dare.

Too clear was the memory of the last time he has used his powers against an actual person. The feeling of flooding another's lungs, more and more and more and more until they were drowning from within. Jack groaned. What in the world did he have to do to just be able to forget the Incident?

“Ready to give up yet, boy?” Bulky Guy asked, clearly enjoying himself.

“You wish,” Jack replied, ducking under yet another blow. His hands were sweaty, his ribs felt broken and the poor boy's head was spinning.

Then, a different voice pierced though the alley. “You there! Leave the boy in peace and get away from here as fast as you can.” Jack was aware of the fact that the newcomer was talking to Bulky Guy but his voice, this delicate, melodic voice was so inviting that his urge to escape from this alley was getting stronger as well.

Jack looked up, wanting to know how Bulky Guy would react, partly expecting him to just turn around and knock out the news guy. To his surprise, Bulky Guy nearly bowed down before the owner of the mystical voice, as if he wanted to apologize for being such a dick, and retreated without another word. Completely bewildered, Jack squinted at his saviour for the first time.

He was only an ordinary boy, as far as he could see. Black hair, worry in his eyes and overall a quite cute appearance. He seemed to be a bit perplexed as well because he solely stood there, at the entrance of the alley, his hands balled into fists, his gaze fixed on Jack.

Jack, who now had found his own voice again. “I guess a 'Thank You' might be appropriate in this situation. Free paper?” He nearly had forgotten the now not only damp but also slightly crumpled newspaper he had stuffed safely into his pocket at the beginning of the fight. He also didn't really care any more. He was too relieved. So he held the paper out to the guy who spared it not even a single glance. Jack was slightly offended.

“Oh my God,” the guy said, his voice softer and more down-to-earth than before. A friendly tone, yet no less beautiful. “I'm going to be in so much trouble now. What if he comes back and what if somebody tells Mama and Papa and why would I even – Oh no, and he is a stranger as well, why did I have to help a complete -”

“In my defence, I am quite a catch and I don't mind playin' damsel in distress, as long as a guy like you's gonna be my knight in shining armour,” Jack interrupted him, slowly getting bored because the guy was talking non-stop to himself instead of reacting to Jack's presence.

Cute Guy looked at him like he was crazy. “What are you talking about? I barely even did anything, to be honest, I was just passing by and saw how this guy attacked you and couldn't keep on walking as if nothing was going on. But it's not exactly my fault the guy went away, he was probably afraid I'd call the cops on him,” and there he was, rambling again.

“Sorry ta interrupt ya, pal, but we both know that he'd have knocked ya out in seconds. And for the record, we also both knows that what ya did there wasn't quite normal.” At least, that was Jack's assumption. It might have been a really big coincidence but his intuition told him that the boy in front of him might be a Peculiar as well. With a grand gesture, he took the guy's hand and put his last paper in it. “Like I said, thank ya. It's nice that our kind looks out for each other. Ya know that there's also others with powers, don't ya? You's not alone in this -”

“Again, I have no idea what you're talking about!” The voice of the boy was getting more tempting this time. He withdrew the hand that Jack still had clasped in his own, stuffed the paper in his bag and looked Jack straight in the eyes.

“Of course,” Jack mumbled, his mind suddenly clouded by something he could not comprehend. “I's sorry I's made such an accusation.”

“Thanks for the apology,” Cute Guy said, looking still a little panicked but in a strange way also satisfied. “It was nice to meet you.” He smiled a bit, then hurried off into what seemed to be a randomly picked direction.

“Wait!” Jack called out. The other guy stopped and glanced back at him in confusion. “The name's Jack Kelly. An' who are you?”

“Wouldn't you like to know?”, was the only answer he got before his saviour disappeared into the crowd.

Jack just stood there, dumbfounded. Then, after what seemed like half an eternity, he came back to himself. “Of course he has powers, that sucker,” he mumbled and swore to himself that he'd never fall for that persuading voice again. But to see if he could keep his promise, he had to find the mystery boy once more.

26 notes · View notes

platonicone · 4 years

Text

Devotion - Story of the Oracle and her Shield

Chapter 20 - Choice without a choice

What is more important? Your love or your principles? I wonder…

There seemed no clear path forward, so they looked around. Eventually they across a small opening in the wall. “I think we can crouch through this small hole,” he noted.

She nodded and for the first time, she let go of his hand. Leon ducked through the small hole into another passage with a rare shaft of light streaming from above. Just as they walked towards the light, Imps ambushed them.

This time, with the help of Luna, they cleared out all the Imps with relative ease. Once the battle was over, Luna quickly grabbed his hand as they moved forward.

They kept walking down the new path as it kept getting narrower with each step. Soon, they were attacked by three Thunder Bombs. The space was so narrow that Leon barely had enough space to swing his gunblade.

As if on cue, Luna chimed in, “Leon, there isn’t enough space to swing my trident.”

He delivered a mighty blow to one of the Thunder bombs and created some opening. He quickly bent down and took out his dagger from his boot. “Here, use this.”

She fended off a relentless Thunder bomb with his dagger.

Leon managed to kill them off before they could explode and cause immense damage.

They continued to tread carefully down the long twisting path.

“Hey Leon, it just occurred to me that if I come to your world, then I’ll be a sorceress. And you bring the leader of SeeD, your duty would be to kill me.”

Leon stopped in his track upon hearing that. “I’ll never do anything like that,” he assured her.

“You can’t run away from your duties.”

“I will find another way.”

“If I had to die, I guess, I would be okay if it’s you. Your blade piercing my body,” she said, looking at his dagger.

“Don’t ever think like that. I’ll never do anything to harm you.”

“Relax. We are only talking hypothetically. It’s not like I can visit your world.”

“Still, I’d rather--”

“More incoming,” she notified in time for Leon to evade the attack from Imps.

They quickly dispatched the Imps. “This is getting annoying fast,” Leon complained.

Eventually, they reached a branching path with water up ahead and corridors on its side. Leon edged towards water to see what was further downstream. As soon as he got close to the water, Imps attacked them again.

Leon decimated those annoying Imps with passion.

“Two paths. Should we go right or left?”

“Right,” she suggested.

“Right it is,” he affirmed, leading the way. Shortly that path came to an end with dead-end ledge. “Should we jump down from here?” he asked.

“Let’s try not to be so reckless. Let’s take the left path,” she proposed, dragging Leon by the arm who seems too eager to jump down.

“Are you still scared?” he asked, as she still dragged him by his arm.

“No, with you around, I am not scared anymore.”

“Good.”

“But what if I wasn’t around? You planned to come here alone? Even though you are scared?” he asked, as they passed the area with water where they were a few minutes ago.

“Confined dark places are among my least favorite things. I do get scared of them. But my fears shouldn’t keep me from doing my duty.”

Leon stopped to give her a SeeD salute. “Your dedication towards your duty is commendable.”

“Just doing my small part in the grand scheme of things,” she remarked with a shrug.

They follow the pathway straight down, hand in hand, until they came across another crossroad. The right path had an unnatural glow coming from it. Leon pointed in that direction and led the way.

“Ah, so it was Fire Deposit causing this glow,” he noticed, getting close to it.

As they moved further down that path, they discovered that it was yet another dead-end. Just as they turned back to traverse their way back, Imps dropped from above for another ambush. Leon was all too happy to kill any Imps that came his way.

Once cleared, they continued their journey down the cave. They encountered two paths again with Ice Deposit on the right and a small alcove to the left. Past the deposit, they discovered a narrow crevice. Leon turned sideways and tried to squeeze through the narrow opening in the wall. The opportune Imps attacked him just as he entered the opening. The Imps got few clear shots at Leon, which only served to enrage him further.

“I really, really, hate these damn Imps,” he barked. He quickly backed out and destroyed all the Imps in sight with sadistic joy.

“I think they are cute,” she chuckled, just to annoy him further.

“CUTE???” He shook his head in disbelief and just gave himself a facepalm.

Luna couldn’t help herself but laugh at his reaction.

Leon moved through the narrow opening and Luna followed. Once on the other side, they continued down the twisting path.

“Leon, do you hear that noise?” she tugged at Leon’s hand, prompting him to stop.

“Yes, it sounded like a growl. Although I can’t tell what it is,” he admitted.

“I think I might know,” she gulped. “The legend says that a few years ago a talking serpent absconded here with several small children. The nearby residents were petrified by this daemon. In their despair, the citizens called upon the aid of the Oracle of that time, my mother, Sylva. After luring the snake-like daemon into the hollow, she trapped it inside. While no other kidnappings have happened since the sealing of the cave, one can still hear the hissing wails of the serpent within.”

“So, if the daemon was sealed inside, then it means it should still be here,” Leon cut to the chase.

“Yes, this cave was sealed off until Ramuh opened it for us today.”

“Let’s be extra careful going forward,” he cautioned. Luna instinctively grabbed his hand. Even though she was putting up a brave face, Leon could see that she was still frightened.

They slowly made their way down the winding path. “You Oracles have a lot on your plate. Blessing outposts and havens, healing people of starscourge, communicating Astral’s wishes to the public, being their spiritual leader, awakening Astrals and sealing demons. It almost seems unfair that only one person has to do all that.”

“If my burdens can ease someone’s suffering, then I will carry it gladly,” she said with conviction in her voice.

“Luna, I am glad I got to meet you. I have never seen anyone like you. I have seen people sacrificing themselves for their families or loved ones, but never for strangers. You have a heart of an angel,” he said earnestly.

She playfully punched him in the arm. “You give me too much credit, sir. Come on, we have a date with Ramuh. We shouldn’t keep him waiting for too long.”

Leon nodded, and they marched on to a large chamber with many spikes and pillars of various sizes in surrounding topography.

As they entered the chamber, they were greeted by hordes of monsters: Mindflayers, Hobgoblins, Thunder Bombs, and Imps. Their numbers grew quickly as Leon fended them off. The good thing about having an overwhelming number of enemies is that with one swing you can hit many. Luna used her trident to good effect thanks to its long reach.

Leon took out his favorite Imps first while Luna focused on Thunder bombs. While Leon was busy dealing with Hobgoblins, he missed the Thunder bomb, who was about to explode next to him. Before the explosion could touch Leon, he was surrounded by a familiar golden barrier. He looked at Luna and nodded as if to say thank you. She nodded back with a smile.

Leon protected her every time she needed to concentrate to cast magic. She protected him with barriers every time he charged into the enemy line. He was the offensive sword while she was the protective shield, each complementing other perfectly.

Soon they found themselves fighting back to back, like old times. Each covering for others’ weaknesses. A perfect harmony of offense and defense. Their teamwork was a calibration of brute strength and tactful magic. The reason they worked so well as a team was because they trusted each other completely.

After killing all monsters, they looked at each other and asked simultaneously, “Are you okay?”

Smile from both of them gave them the answer they seek. They stood in the center, trying to figure out where to go next, as pathways extended in multiple directions.

After exploring the surrounding, they eventually took the northern path. They slid under the low rock and into the next chamber.

“I wonder how long is this cave,” she wondered, with a hint of disappointment.

“Who knows? Are you tired? We can take a break,” he proposed.

“No, I am not tired. Just thirsty.”

“Oh, I have water,” he said, removing his backpack on his shoulders.

“I was wondering what you carry in that backpack of yours,” she stated, sitting down on the cold ground.

“Just the essentials. Water, rations, first aid kit, spare clothes, and a few other things,” he listed, as he fished for the water bottle in his backpack.

He offered the water bottle to Luna. “Thanks,” she said.

He kept looking at her backpack. He was curious to find out what she was carrying, considering that she did not even bring water. Curious as he may, he was too shy to ask her.

She followed his gaze and understood the words he wasn’t speaking. “You know, you can ask me what’s in my backpack,” she commented with a smile.

Leon quickly looked away, embarrassed, as if he was caught committing a major crime. “Oh no, I-I was just admiring the artwork on your backpack?”

“Really Leon? You were admiring the rainbow and unicorn on my backpack?” she could barely control her laughter.

“You don’t know me. I could like a unicorn.” He folded his hand and looked away like a child. She just busted into laughter upon seeing his reaction.

“I am carrying my essentials,” she started slowly after regaining her composure.

‘And water is not part of your essentials?’ He so badly wanted to do a facepalm.

“Some spare clothes and my Oracle dress,” she revealed, to sate his curiosity.

‘What’s wrong with this woman? Why would you need a dress in the middle of a battlefield?’

Before he could say anything, Luna offered him the water bottle. He took a sip from it before capping it.

“I am ready to go,” she announced, dusting herself off.

He kept the water bottle in his backpack and swung it on his shoulders. “Let’s do this.”

They walked down the path and eventually came across Lightning Deposit. Moving up the path from there, they entered a large area. At first glance, the whole area seemed to be devoid of any monsters.

“Not a single monster in this whole area. This is too good to be true,” he cautioned, as he moved forward.

There were two paths, one to the north and another to the northwest of them.

While Leon was pondering which way to go, Luna pointed in the northwest direction and advised, “We should go there. I can feel a divine presence in that direction.”

As they were about to enter the next area, Naga materialized in front of them. It was a colossal creature towering at 62 feet and weighing over 13 tons. This demon had the body of a snake, but the facial features of a woman. The snake circled the two as if gauging them. It stopped in front of them and hissed menacingly. The Naga raises its head and addresses the cave’s visitors, “My baby… Where…”

“I am afraid, we do not know,” spoke Luna.

“You are lying,” it hissed and lunged at Luna only to be blocked by Leon’s gunblade.

“Over 30,000 HP, this is going to be fun,” Leon noted after scanning the monster. He looked at Naga without flinching.

The Naga slithered away, then suddenly turned around and lunged at Leon. He parried the attack and manage to land a few hits on its head. The Naga swung its tail, which Leon dodged in time. All the while Luna attacked it with her magic. The battle picked up at a breathless speed. The Naga lunged and swung its tail a lot, and because of its colossal size, there was no safe spot to rest.

Naga would alter between attacking Leon and Luna. Unexpectedly, it lunged in the air and slammed on the ground, causing shockwaves to knock both Leon and Luna off their feet. Considering this as an opening, it lunged again at Leon, only to be blocked off by a golden barrier. It turned its attention on Luna now and quickly slithered its way towards her. Leon dashed around behind it and impaled his entire gunblade into the Naga’s tail, stopping it dead in its track, just a few inches away from Luna.

The Naga hissed in pain and spew poison all around it. Luna was able to encase herself in a barrier to mitigate the attack, Leon, however, was not so lucky. He was afflicted with poison. Naga had its full attention on Leon now, which gave him no time to use the antidote. His HP was quickly dropping when Luna’s spell healed him of his affliction.

“Luna, you know my weakness is Ice cream. I am so distracted by it. Can you make me some?” Leon yelled in the middle of a fight.

‘What is the heck? I think the poison has gotten to his brain. The man has gone bonkers to think of ice cream in the middle of a fight.’ Luna wondered. ‘No, he is too smart for this. There must be a reason he said that. What was he trying to communicate? Think Luna, think.’

Within a few seconds, her eyes lit up, and she replied, “I make the best ice cream in the world. But it takes time to make it.”

Leon smiled because he knew that she knew what he meant. “Don’t worry, we can wait.”

With Luna on board, it was Leon’s turn to do his part. Just as he was about to attack the Naga, he lost his grip on the gunbalde and it fell to the ground. The Naga reacted quickly and swiped it away with its tail. The Naga hissed at Leon, who was now without a weapon. Leon turned around and made a dash as the Naga chased him. He dodged, ducked, and used every available resource to him to create a separation between him and the Naga.

“I can use ice cream anytime now,” he yelled, running away from Naga.

“It’s almost ready,” she informed. Moments after she said that, the temperature in the area sharply dropped. Leon stopped and turned around to look at the Naga because he knew what was about to happen. The Naga was encased in ice like some prehistoric creature frozen in time. The ice exploded, sending ice particles in all directions. As soon as the ice particles disappeared, the Naga was encased in ice again. It was followed by another icy explosion. Luna had cast duel cast freeze spell putting an end of Naga.

The Naga screamed, “Bring back... my baby...” before disappearing.

Leon retrieved his gunblade and made his way to Luna. “Good job soldier.”

“Thanks,” she said, with a small bow.

“How did you know?”

“At first, I thought you went crazy, but then I remembered once you said that ice-cream would be our code word for help. So, I focused on the keywords you said: Weakness, ice, I, distract, make me some. I figured you were trying to say that the Naga is weak to Ice and you will distract it while I cast ice spell on it.”

“Correct, I couldn’t say it directly because the Naga understood our language. Although, I wasn’t entirely sure if the Naga would be familiar with our language but I didn’t want to take any chance.”

“You losing your gunblade was part of the act?”

“Yes, I had to make sure 100% attention was on me so I had to look vulnerable.”

“Good job to you as well. You even had me fooled. I was genuinely worried.”

“You get worried so easily,” he said with a shrug.

“When you stop being reckless, I’ll stop worrying,” she chided folding her arms.

“Whatever,” he replied. “Shall we go meet Ramuh now?”

“Yes, but I need to change before we go.”

“Wait, what?” he asked, confusion evident in his voice.

“I am not going to see Ramuh wearing this,” she attested, pointing at her clothes.

“You are not going on a date with him. You don’t have to dress up to meet him,” he countered.

She placed her finger on his lips, “Shhh, no more talking. Turn around and watch guard while I get change.”

“But--” he was about to protest when she cut him off, “Hush now. Just do as I say.”

He shook his head and turned around still muttering something incoherent about how stupid this is.

“No peeking,” she warned threateningly.

“Whatever,” he yelled back still looking the other way.

She changed into different clothes. “You can turn around now.”

He turned around and looked at her. She wore a long white dress that framed her body perfectly. His eyes seem to have a will of their own as they refused to move from her. He could swear that every time he looks at her, she looks even more beautiful. He finally snapped back to reality.

“This is the same dress you wore when we first meet,” he noted, unable to peel his eyes from her.

“Ah, so, you remember,” she said with a smile.

“Of course, I do.”

“This is the official Oracle dress of sorts. Since awakening an Astral is an official Oracle business, I have to wear this dress.”

“Is that why you wore this when you were fighting with Titan?”

“Yes.”

“Back then I thought this is such an impractical choice of attire for a battle. It all makes sense now,” he remarked. “What if you don’t? Astrals won’t awaken if you not wearing this dress?”

“Personally, I don’t think it matters, but this is like an Oracle tradition and I'd rather not break it.”

“But, are you allowed to wear something on top of it?” he asked curiously.

“I guess, why do you ask?” she slightly tilted her head, eyeing him curiously.

“Because I want you to wear something I got,” he recommended and proceeded to pull out something from his backpack. “Here, I got this for you.”

“What is this?” she asked, looking at it.

“It’s a rubber hazmat suit.”

“For what?”

“Well, we are about to fight Ramuh, the God of lightning and thunder. Rubber suit would prevent you from getting any damage from electricity.”

It was her turn to do a facepalm. “And here I thought it would be something romantic.”

“I think what you meant to say is thank you, Leon. This is the most practical gift anyone has ever given to me.”

“Who gift’s a hazmat suit to a girl? This is ugly.”

“Maybe, but it’s practical,” he countered, trying to convince her to wear it. “Look, if you are concerned about looking ugly, then I’ll look ugly with you. I got one for myself too,” he triumphantly pulled out another suite from his backpack.

“You are hopeless,” she remarked, shaking her head. “Where did you even get this?”

“You have no idea how many favors I had to do to Holly to let me get these.”

“Holly from EXINERIS?”

“Yup.”

“Leon, each Astral is different. They have different personalities and different goals. Ramuh is a peaceful Astral, I am certain he would not fight us.” She tried to talk him out of it.

“We can’t take a chance. If he comes in peace, then just remove the suite.”

After putting the rubber suit on, he somehow managed to convince her to put it on as well.

“Leon, we look like overdressed cartoons.”

“Now, now. Stop bickering and let’s get this over with.”

They finally entered the Ramuh’s chamber. This area was lush green compared to the mostly barren cave. There was a puddle of water on the ground. The light shined from above illuminated the tree and the runestone.

“There it is. The final runestone,” Leon pointed out.

The hazmat suit Leon got for her was too big for her. She feared that she would trip and fall even before she could get to the runestone. She tried to convince Leon that she does not need a rubber hazmat suit to talk with Ramuh but he insisted that it was for her own safety. It was his way of caring for her and she understood that.

“Leon, we won’t be able to fight in this suit.”

“Why do you want to bite?”

“I said fight, not bite.”

“Sorry, can’t hear much in this helmet.”

She just shook her head and made her way to the runestone. She took baby steps and slowly made her way to the last runestone. She looked at Leon and he nodded in acknowledgment, gunblade ready in his hand. Leon respected her duty, so he stood by the entrance and let Luna do her thing.

She touched the runestone and pink bolts of lightning swarms around her. A deafening thunder echoed through the sky. The sky radiated in an unmatched brilliance. The God of thunder and lightning made his grand descended from the sky. He appeared as a gigantic wizard with a long white beard and small horn-like protrusions on his forehead. He had red eyes and wore flowing green robes with a high collar and his lower half being the billowing coat. The Fulgurian was over 200 feet tall and looked menacing with staff, radiating electricity, in his hand.

“Who dares to step into my sanctuary?” asked an ethereal voice.

“It is I, Lunafreya, the blood of the Oracle! God of Thunder, I beseech you: enter into this covenant that the King might reclaim the Stone!”

“I hear your plea, the Oracle. Should your king pass the ordeal of runestone and make it here like you then I shall consider aiding him.”

“I am certain he will succeed any ordeal that the Gods might put in his way, for he is the chosen King and is determined to see our Star deliver to the light.”

“If your words bear the truth, then your King shall receive my blessings should he pass my trial.”

“Thank you, kind Fulgurian, your tale of compassion will not be forgotten,” she said with a bow. “Do you not wish to put me through a trial to test if I am worthy of your strength?”

“I do not wish to see your strength as I have seen the strength of your resolve and conviction. Your devotion to your king is evident in the perilous journey you have undertaken to have an audience with me. I shall hereby enter in a covenant with you.”

“Oh good, it looks like we won’t be needing these smelly suits after all,” said Leon, coming into the view with his helmet already removed.

“Told you,” she said, fighting her way out of the hazmat suit.

Suddenly, a huge bolt of lightning struck by the feet of Leon. “The Fallen! You dare defile this land with your presence!” The calm and merciful Astral was enraged now.

“What’s going on?” he questioned, eyeing Luna.

She instinctively stepped in front of him. “Ramuh, he has been my sword and shield on this perilous journey. It is by his protection that I stand here today. His heart desires the protection of the Star just as I.”

“Tarradiddle. His heart desires not for the protection of the Star but for only one. His aid in your journey does not redeem him from his sins, for his sins are beyond redeemable.”

‘My sins? What the hell is he talking about?’

“This could not be more untrue for I have seen his sacrifice,” Luna defended him.

“How could an Oracle such as yours still be in cahoots with him? Tell me Fallen, how did you escape Bahamut’s exile?”

‘Bahamut’s exile?’

“No one had ever escaped from the dimension devoid of time. Tell me, who aided you?”

‘Dimension devoid of time? Does he mean time compression? What does Bahamut have to do with all this? It was Ultimecia who put me there, so why does he think it was Bahamut? What does he know that I don’t?’

“Your silence does not prove your innocence. I am Ramuh, it is my divine duty to pass judgment and smite any unrepentant sinners with a bolt of lightning.” Ramuh lifted his staff and prepared to attack Leon.

Luna came in front of Leon with arms outstretched. “Please stop. You must listen to me. He is not the enemy.”

“One Oracle cannot serve two. Make your choice young Oracle. If you stand to protect him, then I will forgo our covenant.”

“No, you mustn't do that,” she pleaded.

“That is my offer, choose either covenant or him. Should you raise your weapon to defend him, there will be no covenant.”

“Please, I beseech you to hear my plea and reconsider your stance,” she pleaded with the Astral.

“Is it not your duty to forge a covenant with Astrals for the king of kings? Are you going to abandon your duty and destiny for a traitor? Choose wisely my Oracle for the fate of this star is in your hands now. It’s a covenant or him. Your choice.”

Author's notes:

What would you choose if you were in her shoes?

Please leave a comment if you have enjoyed the story so far. Would love to chat with some of my readers. Or at least say 'Hi' so I know someone is readying this. Thanks :)

3 notes · View notes

blustersquall · 7 years

Text

Need to get this out of my system, purely self-indulgent, i have no idea what, writing. But, given I haven’t written anything else for weeks, I’m taking what I can get.

Gladio meets a friendly bar own in the Crown City. Utterly self-indulgent. It’s not even fluff or remotely shippy. I just... wanted to write it, because it was an idea. Set maybe a year before the events of the start of FFXV. I’ve never written Gladio before. I know only a bit about the universe, because I have’t finished the game yet. I... just... idk. HERE.

One drink.

Gladio decided to stop off for one drink on his way home to the Citadel. One beer to unwind with after a long, shitty day. He didn’t just need it, he deserved it. It wasn’t often he chose to drink alone. More often than not, he would drink with other members of the Crownsguard – but today, after schlepping half way across the Crown City and back twice – he wanted to sit. Alone. With a cold beer and unwind.

Crown City was not lacking for bars. Any of the many that littered the crowded streets would have suited his needs, but for one reason or another he decided against the ones he walked passed. Either they were too crowded, too noisy, or looked to shady. He wanted somewhere small, quiet, and secluded.

The Caged Canary was one of many bars he had never visited before.

Tucked away between several other larger, more flashy establishments which boasted food and rare drinks from across Eos, Gladio wondered how the simple, rather old-fashioned looking place kept in business. It was a decent size, plenty of tall tables dotted around, some with stools for sitting. Other tables had patrons standing around them or leaning on them, checking their phones or chatting with friends. Towards the back were three pool tables all currently in use. Near the bar was a jukebox. Gladio wasn’t sure what he was more surprised by: seeing a jukebox itself or the fact it worked. Most bars and restaurants relied on in-house music systems streaming in from hidden speakers through wifi. To actually see a manually operated jukebox was rare.

That, and the fact the music coming from it didn’t absolutely suck might have been what made him decide to take a seat at the bar and wait to be served.

Typical of his training and the vigilance that came with it, he took note of everything. All the exits, anyone who looked like they could cause trouble, the people who were in groups, those who were alone, and the people in charge. He counted three bar staff, all women. One was out among the patrons collecting empty bottles and glasses, the two others were behind the bar serving and tidying as they went. One was clearly the owner or manager, from the way she delegated tasks to the other woman, and how quickly she dispensed with orders.

She threw a cursory glance in Gladio’s direction, and nodded to him with a brief smile to indicate, yes she’d noticed him sit down, and she’d be with him in a minute. He wasn’t in any rush. He leaned on the bar, allowing the atmosphere to sink in and the stress of the day to begin to seep out of his body.

It was two minutes, more or less, the music on the jukebox had changed from something upbeat to an old song, more mellow in its tone. Despite the people, conversation was quiet, broken only by the tap of a pool cue on a ball. The space around him became less crowded as patrons were given their drinks and dispersed to tables and company. The woman running the bar approached him, huffing a tuft of unruly dark hair out of her eyes.

“Hey,” she greeted with a smile. “Sorry for the wait. What can I get you?”

“Whaddya got?” rumbled Gladio, looking above her head at the board of what alcohol they had on offer.

“Depends what you’re in the mood for.” The woman replied. She turned and looked up at the board with him. “Something Lucian or more exotic?”

“Lucian.” Gladio said.

“Strong?”

He shrugged his shoulders.

“Okay…” she tutted for a moment, then snapped her fingers. “I think I have something that might do. Gimme a tick.” She walked quickly down to the other end of the bar and ducked below to one of the fridges, removing a tall bottle from within. As she grabbed a glass and popped the cap off, she paused to answer another patron and then returned. With a smile on her face, she put the bottle and empty glass in front of him.

“Here. Comes in from Galdin Quay – one of their specialties.”

Gladio reached for the bottle and took a small swallow, testing the taste. It was ice cold – heavenly on his lips and as it slid easily down his throat. The condensation on the bottle dripped down his fingers. The pleasant, earthy taste sat on his tongue and in his mouth, slowly releasing pleasing aftertaste which reminded Gladio, strangely, of nutmeg.

“So? Verdict?”

“Not bad.” He nodded his head and took another swallow. “What’s the damage?”

“Five gil,” she grabbed a cloth and began to wipe down the bar. “Or you can start a tab.”

Gladio paid her. He had no intention of staying for more than one drink, or returning to this bar again, so starting a tab made no sense.

He sat quietly, drinking from the neck of his beer, enjoying the easy, relaxed atmosphere and the mellowed music, not really thinking – which was a nice change. He noticed the bar beginning to empty out as he drank. A patron here, a small group there, and the numbers started to thin. He checked his phone and saw that it was later than he anticipated. Made sense for people to be moving on. Either going home, or staying out later to enjoy the Crown City nightlife.

He would finish his beer and continue on his way home.

“You’re not a familiar face,” the woman behind the bar surprised him when she spoke to him. He was contented with his drink and the music, and had been paying attention to little more than that.

“You know all the people who come in?” he asked, looking her over lazily.

“Not all of ‘em,” she shrugged her shoulders, wringing out her cloth, “but most we get in here are regulars. This is their watering hole. New faces kinda stand out. And yours kinda stands out a little bit more.” She indicated a line on her own face, meaning to point on the scar on his own.

“Mhm.” He chuckled a little, “yeah. I leave an impression.”

“I bet.” She leaned on the bar. “You get that in a brawl?”

“Nothing so exciting.” Laughed Gladio. He realised his beer was almost empty as he took another swig and put the bottle out in front of him. “This place yours?”

“Whether I like it or not.” The woman laughed, leaning back and looking over the place with a fond expression. “My parents place before me. And the grandparents before them. My folks are getting on a bit, so they’re in Altissia for their health. I took over about six months ago.”

“And the name?”

She gave a short snort of fond amusement through her nose. “The name of the play my grandfather first met my grandmother in.” She rolled her eyes a little, “an homage, as they say.”

“How does it stay in business?” asked Gladio, “it’s pretty small. And you’re not exactly in a great spot.” He began to turn the bottle between his hands, picking at the label. He needed to be going.

“Having regular customers helps,” she smiled again, “word of mouth. Tourists gettin’ lost. And… I’m guessing luck plays a big part, too. A lot of luck.”

“Maybe it’s a blessing of the Six.” Gladio suggested with a wry grin.

“Hah. I imagine the Six have far more important things to be doin’, than making sure this place stays in business.” She wandered a few steps away to serve another customer.

Gladio’s drink was finished. He felt pleasantly calmer and cooler, the alcohol having just enough of an effect on him to help unwind and let go of some of the stress of the day. He waited in his seat for the woman behind the bar to finish with her other customer. He didn’t need to, after all, they’d made idle small talk while she worked and he drank. She probably did it to all the customers, to make a lasting impression. Even so, he wanted to say thank you for the recommendation.

When he saw she was done, he caught her eye and waved her over.

“Same again?” she asked, picking up his empty bottle.

“Maybe some other time.” He sighed, heaving himself off the stool. “Thanks for the drink— I didn’t get your name?”

“Might be cause I didn’t give.” Her lips curled into a small, teasing smile, blue eyes shining up at him with quiet mischief, “I’ll give you mine, if you give me yours.”

Maybe it was the small amount of alcohol, or the easy going environment of the bar, but Gladio found himself laughing, both at her boldness and his own mild surprise. He offered his hand over the bar. “Gladiolus.”

“Isla.” She took his hand and shook it. “Nice to meet you, Gladiolus.” She added extra emphasis on his name. He found he liked it.

“Thanks for the drink, Isla.” He did the same, extra stress on her name as if to set it to memory. Her smile broadened ever-so-slightly and they dropped hands. “See you around.”

“I certainly hope so.” She retorted with one, last playful smile on her lips. Then she turned her attention back to tidying the bar.

As Gladio left, glancing back over his shoulder to see her watching him leave, he decided he should perhaps consider becoming a regular at The Caged Canary.

‘The Caged Canary’ is like a throw back to the play “I Want to Be Your Canary” in FFIX

Comments, reblogs, flailing in tags all appreciated. <3

#gladio #gladiolus amicitia #final fantasy #ffxv #ff15 #ff15 fanfiction #final fantasy xv #final fantasy 15 #writing #my writing #wtfid #gladio x oc #gladio x isla

38 notes · View notes

brawltogethernow · 7 years

Text

Neutral Element - Welcome to Mechanicsburg (Be Sure to Try Our Cheese Snails and Tell Your Friends Back Home About Them!)

Installment Masterlist

Characters: Zeetha, Klaus, a certain Brit, Bangladesh, ensemble; Relationships: A little Agatha/Gil, kolee dok zumil without being called that, Wulfenbachs (avec Bang), an heir and his butler-spy; Length: 2k

Agatha and the Circus and the Jägers are all left cooling their heels on the stolen airship, which provides extra time to fret about everything. Agatha is still fairly worried about what happened to the Sturmvoraus siblings, mostly for Tarveka’s sake on the sister’s part and for that of her own security on the brother’s. At some point in all the missing time, Anevke seemed to vanish as a player. And Agatha was with Tarveka, furious with her and terrified, then blacked out, and then came to again with her nominal ally from the castle nowhere in sight. She didn’t see the princess again before they had to beat a hasty escape. Agatha hopes she’s alright somewhere and not dead or dismantled, even if her motivations were deeply suspect.

The sudden cessation of action, in general, leaves no one quite sure what to do with themselves.

“Well, that’s dumb,” says Zag, when Agatha expresses this feeling to him after she’s woken up and killed an hour on uninspired fiddling with her little clanks. “We’ve got barely just enough time to plan what we’re going to do when we get into town. We can’t expect that things won’t pick up quickly once we do. They’ll be keeping my father in the same place you’re going, for one thing. The Great Hospital of Mechanicsburg is famous, and the head medic is my father’s personal friend.” At Agatha’s frazzled, dizzy look, he appears to take a little pity. “But, hey, you haven’t even had your coffee yet. …And there’s someone who hitched a ride who you haven’t even talked to yet.”

“…I don’t drink coffee,” says Agatha.

“Dear god, why?”

“Who are you talking about?”

Zag raises his eyebrows.

Zag waggles his eyebrows.

Zag cocks his head across the gondola.

Agatha turns to see what he’s nodding at.

It only takes her a second to pick out a mop of light brown hair among the otherwise familiar lineup, apparently drawn into animated conversation with a knot of circus members.

Agatha gasps. “Gil!”

Zag smirks at her. “So are you gonna go talk to her?”

“No! Yes! Maybe? Oh, I don’t know, Zag, I mean. Maybe I should just stay over here?”

“Ooooo-kay,” says Zag, and begins to gently shove her toward the knot of conversation the Wasteland spark is involved in until Agatha smacks him away and chooses walking over being slowly skidded there.

“Can you act?” Rivet is saying to Zengil. “Because you look like you would make a great High Priestess.”

“…I’m sorry?” says Gil. Due to interplay of genre conventions, the stock role of the High Priestess, the mysterious foreign spark who exists in some form in most Heterodyne plays to give Barry Heterodyne a love interest, does not bleed over much from the plays to the novels.

“Well, since we’re about to lose Miss Clay, Pix won’t be able to take that role as much, and — Oh! Speak of the devil!”

Caught lurking, Agatha jumps in place.

Gil turns to her, and gets that look like the sun’s come up again. She. She really needs to stop doing that. Agatha swallows.

“Um,” says Gil.

“I,” says Agatha.

Gil looks up. Agatha looks down.

“Blue fire, I can’t take this,” says Zag, failing at what looks like a personal challenge to stay a respectful distance away. He glares at Agatha as he turns his bystander-maneuvering powers on guiding the rest of the (very interested) group a few feet away.

Agatha pointedly ignores all of this. She clears her throat. “What — what are you doing here? Not that I’m not, um, glad to see you, but — what are you doing here?”

“Oh, um. My flyer kind of got. Destroyed? In the big fight.”

That’s her fault. Her destruction, her fault Gil was there at all.

“Oh my gosh, Gil, I’m so sorry!” she says. “You worked so hard, and…”

“Hey, no, it’s okay! Seriously, it’s fine. Anyway, I have so many new ideas now, I’d have had to start over from scratch to implement all the new principles I’ve thought of anyway….”

Agatha licks her lips. “What kind of new principles?” She finally stops fidgeting and looking at her shoes and looks Gil properly in the eye. And immediately jerks back. “Agh! What happened to your face?”

“Uhh,” says Gil.

“Wow, you really don’t remember,” drifts a voice from the “separate” knot of theater people.

“Quiet, rabble,” says Zag.

When they get into Mechanicsburg at last, sneaking incognito-like, Zag is de-ligh-ted at one of the people they happen to run into.

“Wooster!” he says, beaming. “What are you doing here?”

“I got reassigned,” says Wooster, looking alarmed. “After you ran off. What are you doing here?”

Ardsley Wooster and Zagreus Wulfenbach had had an understanding. Zag knew Wooster was a spy for Her Undying Majesty (the Queen is undying, long live the Queen), and Wooster knew Zag knew, because Zag told him, and instead of kicking him out Zag extracted payment for Wooster’s absent loyalties in the form of an endless stream of wink-wink nudge-nudge British jokes, and in exchange for not mentioning his cover had technically been blown, Wooster didn’t have to be in disgrace and could keep trying to do his job. Zag tried to moderate what information Wooster had access to, and Wooster tried to subtly get around that, and was also fairly certain that Zag knew he did this, and thought it was funny. It had, despite everything, been a surprisingly workable arrangement before Zag ran off with a girl.

Which, by the way. “If I may ask, sir…”

Zag beams at him. Delighted and evil. “Go for it, Mister Wooster.”

Think of the nation, Ardsley. “What is your relationship with the Lady Heterodyne? Exactly.”

He braces himself for details. Zag is and always has been a details person.

Zag leers at him, even worse because Wooster knew he would. “Oh?” he says. “Why? Got some great aunts you want to gossip to about it? Maybe other, miscellaneous older women?” His eyes tip up into half moons.

“Hurrk.”

Zag shrugs. “Don’t worry, I can throw you this one. I’m teaching her how to fight.”

What. “Er, what?”

Zag starts counting off on his fingers .”And run all over the place, and dodge stuff, and I think some acrobatic maneuvers when we’ve worked on her wrist strength more.” He gestures around the town square. A large spider holding a piece of Swiss cheese speared on a knife dodges his fingertips. “Have you seen this place? She’s going to need it.”

Wooster contemplates this strange and new world order. “You are instructing the Lady Heterodyne.”

“I’m teaching her tactics, too. Politics. Diplomacy.” He emphasizes “diplomacy” by smacking one of his daggers into his hand.

“…Oh, yes,” says Wooster. “Between you and the citizens of Mechanicsburg, I imagine she’ll be set.”

Klaus wakes up to all-over pain, admonishing insistence he not work, and a bodyguard he suspects was picked out as much to punish him as for her effectiveness. But talking through his plan of action is keeping him on track. Bangladesh DuPree is mostly nodding along and adding off-color comments, but her pointed disinterest in anything political or logistical actually make her an uncommonly safe sounding board. “…Vole should deal with the girl and retrieve my son. It’s the best I can do for him.”

“Mm hmm, mm hmm,” says Bang, nodding diligently, hands busy twirling some of her knives. “But really,” she says, “I say good on the guy for sticking to his guns and fighting for what he wants. Being caged up on the Castle didn’t really suit him, did you think?”

Klaus sighs, and dismisses this. There isn’t time to keep Zag happy when he’s trying to keep him alive. The issues of his son’s tendency to withdraw into himself and to appear in places he isn’t wanted and then vanish from settings where his presence is called for like a morbid ghost can be dealt with after his safety has been ensured.

And when Klaus gets him back, it’s probably time to tell him about his mother. “…And then there’s her other companion. The girl with the unusual swords, and the circlet. She —”

“Who, the madgirl from the lost city?” says Bang.

“…What,” says Klaus.

“Do you want her for something?” asks Bang. “Well, good luck, pal. I’ve been trying to catch her since she landed on this stupid continent, but she’s slippery.”

Klaus takes a moment to take this in and reach the inevitable conclusion.

“She’s the warrior who destroyed your fleets?!” he demands. “All of them?! Alone?!” Klaus somehow imagined DuPree’s query and original reason for joining him as someone…larger. Maybe she’s usually better-equipped?

“That’s the madgirl!” chirps DuPree. “I’ve been after her for aaaa-ges.”

Klaus peers at her. Maybe he’s not even really conscious right now. That would explain the surreal combination of events. But it hurts so much. That would be so unfair.

“Guess you were distracted when I was trying to kill her during the Circus thing, sir!” she says cheerfully. Bangladesh is always cheerful when talking about murder.

Klaus groans. “This isn’t good. If she is here for my son, she’s much more dangerous than I suspected.”

DuPree looks at him oddly. Why? “Why would she be here for Zag?” she asks. “She —”

A courier bursts through the door. “Herr Baron!” she shouts, panicky, then tosses off a salute and waits for his nod to speak. “You know the prince of Sturmhalten, sir?”

Wilhelm. No, his son, who Sun was looking after. “Yes?”

“He’s gone missing, sir.”

Klaus slams his palm into the bridge of his nose, reopening both of the stitches in his brow.

Wooster isn’t quite sure whether joining Miss Clay’s entourage counts as defecting from the Wulfenbach Empire if it’s because he’s following its prodigal son. Not that it really matters. And Introducing himself as “Ardsley Wooster, Agent to the Queen” has a certain thrill to it, even if, by definition, being able to do so means he’s failed his task. He hasn’t gotten to do it since certain discrete altercations in Paris.

The Lady Heterodyne’s party settles in amid the whirlwind of chaos Agatha is making of the coffee shop. Zagreus waves a stick of gingerbread he must have acquired at one of the vending stalls. “You know she still can’t do a handstand?” he says to Wooster, the continuation of an ongoing critical assessment. “She says it’s her hips, but Zengil doesn’t have any problems. I just haven’t been testing the strength in her core enough.”

“And the young lady in question would be, ah.” The odd-looking one, with the weird hair and the fading but still plainly spectacular bruise and compression bandage. “…The foreign spark.” Without thinking, he adds, “Well, she isn’t as… As…” There is no acceptable way to end this thought. “Uh.”

Wooster wishes he didn’t know exactly how he got signed up for these rundowns analyzing violence and women’s hips. Understanding his journey to this point really just makes it worse. He hopes he can get his hands on some coffee, so he can spike it.

“She’s the one whose relationship with Agatha you should be asking about,” says Zag ruminatively, ignoring Wooster’s abandoned point, which is uncharacteristically merciful. “Whoo-ee!” he continues. “It’s a good thing the Heterodynes have pretty much always done what they want. Because if the Fifty Families thought they had a say in this, ha! It’d be a show!”

“…Wait, what? What?”

Zag cheerfully pats him on the back. It would as good as confirm that one of his favorite pastimes is playing “Chopsticks” with Wooster’s blood pressure if Wooster hadn’t already known that.

In the background, something else explodes.

“Huzzah!” shout the cafégoers. There’s an assortment of whooping.

Under their booth, the talking cat and the lobster construct are engaged in a disagreement that’s escalated into a scuffle. The Baron’s heir gently nudges the violent whirlwind of child-sized coats away from Wooster’s legs and flashes sharp canines at him.

…It was far and away time to toss his cover, anyway. Far more interesting things are happening here.

No jaw wiring for Bang because A.) that seems to have been a prank orchestrated by Gil, who isn’t present, and even if it wasn’t his idea B.) her path through the Circus incident and its aftermath was completely different due to chasing Gil instead of Wooster.

#or -#zagreus wulfenbach drives men to drink #girl genius #ggne #fic #w

22 notes · View notes