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glitched-dawn · 2 months

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So I have noticed some cool grimblos do in fact notice that I have written funny words and want to read them so uhhh

Imma just post the first chapter here?

Aight here we go: Novel 1 out of 9, Breached Containment, Chapter one: How haven't I seen this cool thing before?

[Warning tho it is really long like 20 A5 pages]

[Also PS if this gets over 100 notes I'll post chapter two]

How haven’t I seen this cool thing before?

Soon I’d literally die from boredom. No offense to my teacher, but since I was used to having biology lessons indoors, maybe doing an experiment or two, this was just a punishment. Walking around in the woods, that I knew inside out, looking for anomalies in fungi.

But this day turned out to be something unusual - something unusual, cool, and potentially, bad.

☙•❧

Me and my friend Rick left our class’s search for mushrooms pretty early (cause who could be interested in mushrooms when they’d already explored almost the entire forest?), and we had special permission to leave and “explore”, which was weird, since we got permission because we knew the forest inside out.

We’d left the school about ten minutes ago, and most of us were enjoying the warm and fresh air. Others (ehm, those who didn’t know forests exist) were just staring at their phones, waiting for the lesson to be over.

Two of our teachers were there with us, our PE and - of course - biology teacher. Our PE teacher, Mr Raminez, a buff bald dude with a blonde beard wearing coaching clothes, walked around trying to push us into doing healthy exercises. And our biology teacher, Brian (he’s such a homie, everybody just calls him Brian), mainly just mingled with students about their grades, about fun and lean lessons he’d have in the future, and about potential future trips like this one, hopefully not in the local forest.

Rick and I didn’t have much to do, except maybe finding a good tree to climb, or maybe doing the exercises Raminez wanted us to do. But since we knew the forest here inside out, there wasn’t anything fun we could do during the trip, if we didn’t sneak away.

I sighed and looked around. The dense forest had all kinds of different trees - it wasn’t just a boring pine one, or a birch one, so on. There was both pine and birch, there were mighty old oaks, clusters of rowan and juniper, and spots with fir and beech. And the whole place was filled with life, even though you couldn’t see it directly.

Squirrels were easy to spot, they didn’t care about being hidden. Then the frogs were everywhere, so that wasn’t a surprise, and you were heavenly lucky if you caught a deer or fox. Unluckily, since there was so much passive wildlife, there were also many predators, like wolves, bears and wolverines, and also the biggest moose I’d ever seen in any forest throughout my life.

I remembered one time, when I was out in my backyard, there was a moose munching on our apples. I ran to my dad, who grabbed his rifle and shot it, because we wouldn’t risk the moose hurting anyone. I hadn’t understood why until later, when Dad told me that a portion of the apples were fermented. The moose tasted good though, and we got to hang its antlers over the fireplace in the living room, which was extremely cool.

Rick shook my shoulders, making me wake up from my zone-out.

‘Oh, what is it?’ I asked him.

‘There’s a gap’, he announced, and I grinned. It was time for some exercise.

☙•❧

As the other students in our class stood bent over one of the most common mushrooms in the forest, that I’d seen at least a couple hundred times, Rick and I took our chance and threw ourselves away from the others in hopes that the teachers would assume that we’d just gone for a quick detour - when in reality, we were running as fast as we could away from the class to gain some free time.

We ran for a few more minutes, until we had to stop so I wouldn’t choke on my laughter.

‘Bro, they didn’t even notice!’ I laughed, stumbling backwards. I hit a tree and leaned against it, to give me something to hold on to as I tried to sip air. Rick was out of breath too, laughing at me.

‘Couldn’t they hear what was happening? Like seriously, we almost threw ourselves down that cliff!’ I fell forwards, and Rick caught me at the last second. I struggled to stand up and I fell again, causing Rick to cough, he was laughing so hard.

When I had finally gotten up and brushed myself off, and when our laughter had subsided somewhat, we took off through the forest again - through shrubbery, glades and brushwood, over fallen trees and narrow streams. It was cloudless and warm outside, and the sun shone in rays through the beautiful arched roof of fresh green leaves. It wasn’t very windy, the most noticeable sound was us walking on leaves and pine needles, and the birds and other animals going about in the distance.

We walked casually, safe and sound, in the direction of the old limestone quarry, where we could take a fresh dip later today. It wasn’t that popular, with the ocean so close by, so we usually had it for ourselves.

But we must’ve walked in a somewhat wrong direction, and we walked for a good fifteen minutes before I realized. I interrupted Rick in the middle of his epic, overly dramatic story about how he beat me in Castle Crashers for the first time (he got to use my most powerful character, and he didn’t let me heal. Sounds unfair to me).

‘Hey, bro, I think we went in the wrong direction’, I cut him off. He stared at me in confusion. Then his eyes lit up in excitement.

‘Well, that doesn’t matter now’, he said quirkily, ‘cause I’ve found something way more interesting!’ He turned around and started running away from me, through a glade filled with thicket, and past a wall of trees.

‘Oh woah, take a look at this, bro!’ Rick shouted to me. I followed up and when I reached Rick, I wasn’t very surprised.

’What? I thought I’d shown you the ravine before’, I said, confused. In front of us, a rip in the earth cut through the dirt and rock below. On the other side of the ravine, there were more coniferous trees than on this side. That place looked pretty dark, and I hadn’t spent much time there. In the bottom of the rave, a small river snaked through the rubble and boulders. It wasn’t really a ravine, it was more of a canyon, but whatever.

Rick frowned and answered; ‘Yeah, yeah, you have, but that’s not what I was talking about-’ he turned around and pointed at something at the line of the horizon -’my bro, you goin’ blind? There’s a building over there!’ I squinted at the spot Rick was pointing at and saw a gray block, and it did look like some sort of building. I regretted not having explored the forest past the ravine.

‘Ey, that’s epic!’ I responded with a smile, ‘But I don’t think we have the time to go get your binoculars.’ Rick nodded.

‘That’s true. And sneaking past the teachers and the other students would be harder than before’, he summed up. I glanced at the building again - it was hard to see what kind of building it could be; but it was easy to foreclose. It obviously wasn’t a normal house you’d live in, not even an apartment building. Maybe it was just an abnormally huge abandoned house, but from the shape and gray color I doubted it; it looked more like concrete, and not many abandoned houses in the forest were made out of concrete.

‘What do you think it is?’ I asked Rick. He squinted at the block just like I did, frowning.

‘It’s pretty hard to tell from this angle and distance, I should really bring my binoculars tomorrow. But it can’t be a normal house - I’d say that it’s an abandoned factory or something.’ Yeah, that made some sense, but why would it be out in the middle of the forest?

‘Yeah. That’s neat, though. You think we can check it out tomorrow?’ I looked back at Rick. He caught my gaze and smiled quirkily.

‘Time for some urban exploring’, he grinned.

☙•❧

‘I’m home!’ I yelled into the quiet house.

Huh, that’s weird, I thought to myself. There was usually quite a bit of noise here, even when I wasn’t home.

I looked around the empty space. The wooden walls were coloured a light brown, tainted gray. Past the narrow hall I was standing in was the living room, and to my right was the kitchen. To my left were the stairs up to the master bedroom and my room, plus a soundproof room, a little common room and a bathroom.

I heard someone getting up from bed upstairs, and a few moments later my dad came stumbling down the stairs - an averagely tall dude, with mixed ginger-brown, fluffy hair, dressed in an orange flannel shirt and a pair of ripped jeans.

‘Hey buddy! How was school today? I heard you went on a trip to the forest’, he said brightly.

His sky-blue eyes glittered friendly, and his warm smile was extremely contagious. People often told me I looked similar to him, probably because we were both tall, had the same bushy brown hair and lanky posture, but he had many many more laugh lines than me, blue eyes, lighter skin and a warmer face. I had energetic green eyes, a crooked smile, a browner, more coffee-colored hue, and a few faded freckles around my nose. If I’d just been a little taller, we’d almost look like we were the same age. It was magical how he managed to look like an older teen, when he really was 39.

I smiled back and responded; ‘Oh, yeah! Rick and I got a special permission to leave and explore, which is really weird since we’ve already explored a really big part of the forest’, I told him while taking off my shoes and backpack.

‘We did go exploring though, we walked all the way to the ravine and spotted some kind of building on the other side of it. We plan to go see what it is tomorrow - on a distance, of course, with Rick’s binoculars.’ I walked into the kitchen and grabbed two mugs from one of the cabinets. Dad followed me into the kitchen.

‘Oh, by the way, my buddies from work invited me for a fishing trip tomorrow, but we’ll be home by the evening’, he said, grabbing some milk out the fridge, putting it on the counter, and then he grabbed the sugar and cocoa from the pantry.

‘You want some hot chocolate?’ He smiled.

‘Yeah, sure!’ I replied. I got up from my chair and helped him prepare - I put a small saucepan on the stove, and I turned the heat up. As Dad started to cook the heavenly drink, I told him about my day and what plans I had for today. He nodded along, listening, smiling encouragingly.

‘Where are you going, though? The ocean? Along the coast, or out in the big blue?’ Dad nodded.

‘Yep, we’re going fishing in the ocean, out in the endless bright blue! It’s gonna be lit, and my buddies are even going to bring a barbeque with them on the boat!’ I grinned. That sounded awesome!

‘I hope you catch some fish for me’, I said, and Dad smiled back, nodding again.

It was wonderful how happy he still was, considering he’d lost his wife - my mum - just a few years ago. She’d died in a terrorist bombing in a large city we’d lived in, and from there we had moved to EverNought afterwards to be able to healthily deal with the trauma. She’d saved many lives that day, and I was proud of her. She’d been an amazing mom.

Our family were atheists, but we were always grateful for nature and believed in its spirit. My mum had always prayed with us before bed, more for fun and giggles, singing fast-paced little tales as she tickled us and clapped her hands. We’d stopped after her passing, as it was her own thing, and it was kind of down-feeling to have a memory like that bringing longing and sadness every night.

My dad often said, “As long as we have each other, there’ll be no need to cry, and if you cry, you’ll always have someone to cheer you up.” And that was true, and really comforting. He was a very light dude, after all, and he had a good life. Two kids, a good house and a well-paying job, not to talk about the beautiful environment. The huge, mixed forest is astounding, and the small town is cozy and overall pretty nice. And about his two kids…

‘Hey, by the way, where’s Samantha?’ I asked Dad. He turned around and took the saucepan with him, still stirring.

‘Oh, she’s out on a date with someone. I don’t remember his name, but he seemed decent. Or she’s out with her friends, it’s hard to keep track of her’, he chuckled. Wait, what? My whiny, slightly bratty little sister had gotten a date?

‘Nah, you’re kidding’, I said. Dad laughed again, and he almost couldn’t stop.

‘No, for real! I wonder how, though. She hasn’t really worked on her manners’, he grinned. ‘She’s a bit ahead of you, eh?’ I gasped and dramatically put my hand over my chest, and now Dad had to put the saucepan down again, he was laughing so hard.

‘You dare insult my fabulous singularity! Absolutely flabbergasted!’ I exclaimed with a grin. We laughed for a long while, and it was hard to stop since we just laughed harder every time we looked at each other again. But finally, when we’d managed to keep calm for approximately three seconds, Dad approached me and patted me on my shoulder.

‘You know I won’t force you to love, right? That’s something you choose yourself, buddy. It’s not my business, and you’re safe to love whoever you want! Sorry if I haven’t told you before.’ I hugged him and responded; ‘No, you’ve told me before. You’re safe to love whoever you want too.’ Dad hugged me back.

‘That’s right’, he replied, smiling. Then he let go and hurried to the stove - we’d both forgotten the hot chocolate. A few minutes later, Dad grabbed a pad and brought the saucepan to the dining table.

‘You up for some steaming hot liquid heaven?’ He asked triumphantly - not only a lit dad, also an amazing cook - as he showed me how he’d managed to avoid burning the cocoa into the bottom of the pan. As he talked, I grabbed the mugs and Dad poured in the cocoa. I took a sip, and… wow.

‘Woah. That’s amazing’, I managed to say before gulping down almost the entire thing. Dad smiled and sipped his slowly and calmly.

‘I’m surprised it turned out so good even though I forgot to stir for a while’, he said contentedly.

‘Is it okay if I bring some for me and Rick’s exploration adventure tomorrow? This cocoa is honestly better than heavenly! Though, I feel like we’re using that term a bit too much considering that we don’t believe in God and that stuff’, I figured. Dad smirked and said, ‘All hail the hot chocolate!’ while raising his mug. I burst into laughter and was relieved I wasn’t drinking at the moment.

I’m happy Dad doesn’t get irritated by my almost-constant laughter, at least. Dealing with my energy though, that was somewhat worse. Thinking about it, I should probably talk more about it with Dad. But not this second, I thought, when I heard someone unlocking the door.

‘That must be Samantha’, Dad said, getting up to welcome her in.

‘Okay, uh, I’m just gonna…’ I wanted to avoid more teasing - because of course my little sister took every chance to make herself feel better than me - so I got up and quickly swept around the corner of the hall into the living room, then I bolted to the door leading to our backyard, opened it and rushed out into the forest in a split second.

Great placing of the house, I thought to myself. Free activity whenever I felt like it.

Somewhere to spend all my overflowing energy and avoid annoying siblings.

Somewhere to feel a little more peace and quiet.

☙•❧

I run out into the woods regularly, so I didn’t have to worry about Dad wondering where I’d gone. It was no problem - and it was easier to spend time in the forest than in my room. Sure, my room was big and I had loads of stuff I could use to pass time with, but there were no walls in the forest - not any boundaries for my energy.

Plus, I wanted to go to the ravine and see if there was a way over without needing rope or other equipment. So I started making my way through the forest, and I realized that I should have brought a flashlight. It must’ve been quite some time past noon - the sun almost almost touched the treetops. Well, it is what it is. I just had to make it back before six, or else I’d miss dinner.

And I’d have to be really careful - there would be a lot of dangerous animals out now in the evening. But spending more than half of my conscious time in the forest gave me quite a lot of experience. I was sure nothing was going to happen.

In the fading sunlight you could see decently under the crowns of the trees, but soon enough it’d be too dark to see my own hands. It wouldn’t be a problem spotting wildlife considering their glowing eyes, but they’d have an easy time spotting me too, so that was one of the reasons to stay quiet. I was used to walking around in the forest in the dark, so I had a route where I’d be relatively predator-safe.

Just past my house was a big, pale oak, stripped of its bark. It was hollow and crooked, so when the wind passed by, it made a loud, continuous whistling noise. Past the whistling oak, there was a healthy, normal oak I used to climb. And I did so this time too - I climbed the healthy oak, and from there, I could continue climbing from tree to tree, naturally avoiding ground-borne predators.

It was in the middle of April, so it was just starting to get warmer outside, and the insects hadn’t really come back yet. That was nice - it would’ve been much worse if I had to climb around in the forest while ants marched around the branches I grabbed and wasps flew around my head. For now, it was just the most perfect time of the year.

I would say that I’m pretty fast, but the time literally flew by as I swung from tree to tree in a flow. I was having a really great time, so I didn’t even notice the shadows growing longer and pushing the sunlight out of view.

There were a few, barely visible rays of sunlight almost horizontally shining from the treeline far away, but as I got closer to the ravine, more and more light made its way from the ravine through the lush vegetation. When I measured I was roughly twenty meters away from the ravine, the forest opened up to reveal a small glade.

It was partially filled with fresh green grass, thinning out into flat, dirty rock closer to the ravine’s edge. But the building on the other side was nowhere in sight - instead was another, different one.

To my left, almost halfway into the shrubbery and trees, was an intact abandoned cabin. It was pretty big, and from the look of it, it seemed to have been built pretty recently. But why was it there?

Wonder if someone lives there, I thought to myself, before approaching the building and barging down the door.

☙•❧

Okay, I didn’t really barge down the door, but I should’ve been a lot more quiet. Maybe it wasn’t so smart to break into an abandoned house during nighttime, but I couldn’t see any light inside it, and it was safer to be inside than outside now - and it doesn’t hurt to be concerned about safety. Plus, I could always talk to humans if there were any in here, but I would just get mauled by a bear or something if I stayed out. And I simply wanted to check the place out. So I was pretty relieved when I saw that there was no one inside from what I could see from the door. I closed it behind me - quietly this time - and examined the place.

The room I was standing in seemed to be a mixup between a living room and a kitchen, with a long kitchen island shielding off part of the kitchen. There wasn’t much furniture, just a worn old couch, a coffee table, a firepit - that I really hoped wasn’t clogged - and a couple armchairs in the corners. A rugged mat covered about half of the floor in the living room, and a dusty, dusty chandelier barely clung to the ceiling.

The kitchen wasn’t much better: there was a gas-driven stove, and miraculously enough an oven, a few pantries, cupboards, a sink and a kitchen island between the sink and stove. The stove seemed to work, I just had to bring gas and an icebox, then I could comfortably spend a few nights here.

I decided to quickly check the fireplace; and it was clogged with clumps of thicket. That was relieving, it’d be easier to remove than a bird nest or chimney creosote. I remembered when that’d happened to a friend of my dad’s - their chimney had been clogged by the tar-like stuff, and it’d almost caused a house fire. My dad had luckily been close by and noticed the smoke through a window, so he saved them from that. He worked as a firefighter, so he knew exactly how to work through it.

But there was still a lot of work to do - that I saw when I discovered a door in the living room, leading to a bedroom and a bathroom.

I didn’t spend much time in the bathroom, understandably. But in the bedroom, there was much to discover.

The double bed was torn up and dirty, as was the floor, the walls and surprisingly, the roof. There were a couple wardrobes, a shabby dresser, a moldy rug that had almost melted into the floor, and a bedside table that was barely intact.

I’ll visit here again, maybe with Rick, I thought to myself. I don’t have time to clean today, though. I checked the wardrobes and the dresser cautiously, but there was nothing inside except for a few blown-in leaves and a scared mouse. Had to check where it came from later on.

But I found something exceptionally weird when I opened the bedside table. The first table drawer held an old book, but it was covered in dried mud so I could hardly see the title, and the text inside was too small. The second drawer was filled with papers in plastic pockets, and they looked brand new. I wasn’t interested in them, so I let them be for the moment. They all looked like office files anyways. But the weirdest thing was in the third drawer.

There, under a layer of leaves and dry dirt, was a pretty wicked thing looking like a murder-weapon.

☙•❧

It was a shining steel device, unlike anything I’d ever seen before. And I often visited the science lab at EverNought High. It was roughly the size of my arm, maybe a bit bigger, and it looked like a syringe mixed with a miniature robotic arm holding a couple pairs of pliers.

‘Uh… the hell is this?’ I mumbled out loud, examining the device closely. It didn’t have any buttons, or levers, so I wasn’t sure how it worked. It was made up of two sections, one short arm with the pliers sitting on top and the syringe kind of sitting in the middle top between the pliers, and then another arm below it with some kind of attachment system on the bottom. I guess it was made to connect some other kind of instrument.

‘I… don’t think I want to get too deep down investigating this thing’, I mumbled. It’s never too great to do so. So I carefully laid the device back in the bottom drawer, closed it, and began looking through the papers in the drawer above. Man, those were unsettling.

Most of them seemed to be documents over different “Subjects”, as the texts described them, sorted by numbers and occasionally letters. Some of them were files over things like “sector four”, other sectors, weird tools and instruments.

But there was something that really caught my attention. A file regarding something called Subject A.

There was no picture, but the descriptions were enough to illuminate an image in my head.

In the text, the subject was described as a bear-sized creature, looking like a wolf with furious, feral eyes. It was made out of an unknown substance beneath the fur and didn’t seem to have any bones, apart from its teeth.

The image painting itself in my head didn’t look very friendly. But why in the world would this be in an abandoned house in the middle of the forest? It had to be fake, right? Some kind of prank?

With shaking hands, I put the documents back down in the drawer, and brought my phone up from my pocket. I opened the bottom drawer again and took a photo of the device. After that, I called Dad.

He answered quickly with a bright ‘Hello, Jay!’, and a familiar sizzling in the background.

‘H-hey’, I stammered.

‘Hey, you sound kinda shook. Has something happened?’ Dad asked, now in a concerned tone.

‘No, not really. But do you think you can drive Boomer over to the ravine and pick me up?’ I asked, putting down the papers in the drawer with one hand.

‘Yeah, sure, buddy! Where around the ravine?’ I tried to describe where I was, including the abandoned cabin, but it was hard when I was shaking so much. I hadn’t found anything this messed up in a long time. Dad tried to console me, telling me to keep calm as he got the ATV going.

‘You said you’re inside an abandoned cabin, right? I think I’ve seen it before. Stay inside, I’ll be there as soon as possible’, he assured me, before ending the call.

I took a deep breath. Only a few minutes. Then I’d be back to safety. Away from this messed up house.

#writeblr #writing #my writing #wip #writers on tumblr #writers #horror #writing inspiration #breached containment #my novel Breached Containment #my novel #novel 1 out of 9 #chapter 1 #chapter one #creative writing

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howtodrawyourdragon · 4 years

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Nothing Like Bonding During A Storm

Summary: In a modern world, Toothless has trouble adjusting to the surface world. Fortunately, he knows he can always count on Hiccup, even when nature's extremes bring down her wrath on the world.

Rating: General

Characters: Hiccup, Toothless

Words: 3 075

Author’s Notes:

That moment when you finish and post a one-shot about an AU that's been developing since February before finishing the actual main fic.

Anyway, I've been watching a lot of videos on YouTube about tornadoes and I find them very fascinating to look at. I often find myself wondering "how do people deal with possible natural disasters in a world that has ended" and this came to mind.

This is basically just dipping my toe in a concept with countless of possibilities and I will probably return to it later to explore it some more.

I have barely slept the past two days, I hope it doesn't show in this one-shot. It doesn't feel as exciting as I want it to be.

Also, hopefully I can finally get the main fic over and done with instead of daydreaming about it. I literally have another finished one-shot of this AU that I haven't posted yet.

Constructive criticism is appreciated.

Enjoy!

Ao3

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Hiccup muses that today is simply the culmination of his hubris. His natural and unrestrained curiosity, his want to travel, his workaholic tendencies, having a best bud for a dragon who would love to explore this new surface world with him... All of this was bound to come back to bite him in the ass someday and today is that day.

Flying way, way out West in the hopes of finding more human settlements that wished to regain contact with others, Hiccup and Toothless find themselves far away from home.

Though his father was initially against it, his plan on returning the vast network of communication that mankind once had before it was taken from them turned out to be a fruitful one and that is the only reason why Stoick ever agreed on letting Hiccup stray even farther away from home.

He still isn't quite so keen on letting his son out of his sight, even after all these years.

So far this country has been just as empty as he already figured it would be before they left Berk. It's been days since he and Toothless arrived and they have yet to find a single remaining human settlement.

Plenty of birds, critters, and other local wildlife, but no humans.

Not that they have managed to explore much. They have found an abandoned town close to a beach and spend a little while combing through it, but once it became clear that it was empty, they moved on.

But finding no human life on this mission to do just that will have to wait. There is a matter far, far more urgent that needed their attention.

High up in the sky, Toothless rumbles his concern to his Rider. Hiccup is already looking in the same direction he is, the map in his hands temporarily forgotten.

"I know, Bud. I'm keeping an eye on it, too." He tells him and it's as if the dragon understands, relaxing just a tad bit with the knowledge that Hiccup is aware of it, too.

In and around the Northern island of Berk, extreme weather isn't something Hiccup is unfamiliar with. The Winters could get so cold, especially during the weeks that he and his people nicknamed "Devastating Winter". A fitting name for the below-freezing temperatures and the blizzards that buried their houses annually.

Many people from different countries have called them stupid for continuing to live here, but then, they are descendants of the Vikings that once lived there. So maybe their problem isn't so much stupidity as it is pure stubbornness.

And with climate changing, though it has most likely slowed down since the year everything went wrong, the temperatures during Winter are even colder than they used to be when Hiccup was a child. And the Summers so much warmer.

On the North Sea, you can expect the occasional waterspout as well. But so long as it didn't come on land, it wasn't too much of a threat, not too much. For the island's inhabitants, that is.

But the clouds Hiccup and Toothless see swirling are a little too threatening for their comfort.

They are dark, appearing to be stacked on top of one another to create an uneven tower as wide as it is tall with a thick saucer-like shape at the base. The clouds that make up each level appear restless, opposite from their usually fluffy nature.

Above them and the flying duo lies a dark, ominous blanket that stretches for miles. There is a strong wind, conflicting up and downdrafts fighting for dominance, and they make the clouds and column dance and swirl. There is a downpour of rain and hail beneath as well. It makes the area underneath it seem foggy.

Their appearance makes Hiccup's heart swell in awe-inspiring trepidation and he has to swallow as his mouth feels dry. Meanwhile, Toothless looks on in fear.

He still hasn't had much experience with the surface's weather. The sight of this dark sky makes him feel like his heart is about to burst right out of his chest.

Hiccup hasn't forgotten, of course. He knows his Bud is completely inexperienced and relies on his Rider to know what is best.

Thankfully, always having been quite fascinated by things that could potentially kill him ever since he was young, Hiccup has done his fair share of research on certain weather phenomena. Much like Fishlegs and his interest in geology and mineralogy.

What Hiccup is staring at right now, it could possibly be called a mesocyclone.

There is a supercell inside that thing and the winds around them are getting harder to fight.

Lightning weaves its way through the clouds for miles. There are multiple strikes and they follow each other closely, speaking volumes of the storm's electrical strength. The thunder is a good indication of how close Dragon and Rider are, too. It is deafening.

Mindful of the metal holding Toothless' prosthetic together, Hiccup decides it is wise to land.

Folding the map in his hands up and pulling his backpack to his front to stuff it away, Hiccup then continues to look at the world below them.

There is plenty of space to land, lots of open fields for miles around them. But with how close those clouds are, Hiccup would feel better if there is a shelter or something they can hide in. Preferably a storm shelter just in case that supercell had a particular surprise in store for them today.

"Down there, Bud! Let's land and see if we can ride it out there." Hiccup tells his Night Fury when he spots two buildings on the ground with a fence all around the perimeter. An abandoned machine stands in the middle of an overgrown cornfield. It looks to be a farm.

Right at that moment, the downpour catches up and soaks them both in seconds and the winds grow even fiercer. Quickly after, hail that grows to be almost the size of the palm of his hand.

Toothless lets out a panicked yell, startled by the sudden shower.

"I know, Bud, I know! Set down near that farmhouse! Those wooden houses over there!" His Rider points them out to him and he folds his wings for a quick dive. While holding onto the saddle, Hiccup attempts to shield his dragon's eyes from the hail.

They land on the dirt road before the home that is swiftly becoming muddy beneath their feet. Toothless wastes little time to jump underneath the roofed porch, escaping the rainfall. Hiccup dismounts, pats his dragon on the neck, and goes to work on finding that storm shelter.

Sunlight teases them from the edges of the miles of clouds, but it is much too risky to try and escape this storm. Not with the speeds at which this supercell is traveling and certainly not with winds so strong possibly dislocating wings as wide as Toothless'.

Leaving the restless dragon on the porch, Hiccup runs down the steps and back out into the downpour, his prosthetic slipping in the mud. His hair and his clothes already stick to his skin.

One look told him the entrance to their salvation wasn't there under the porch. But on farmland miles away from the nearest city and closest hospital and with weather like this not being completely uncommon, there has to be shelter around here somewhere

Running around to the side of the house, it isn't long before Hiccup finds a set of slanted metal doors leading to a concrete room underneath the home where the basement should be. Approaching it and finding it without a padlock, Hiccup opens both doors and finds a stone stairway down into darkness. It's a storm shelter.

The hinges of the two doors rattle slightly with the wind and that worries him, but this place will have to do. No use taking to the skies now.

Something spooks Toothless and he calls out to his Rider. In the rain, thunder, and the hail, Hiccup can only just hear him and he turns around, shielding himself from the large chunks of frozen water, to find a sight that makes him stumble. His eyes would've widened in wonder if the rain didn't make it too difficult to see.

At the base of the mesocyclone, the rapidly whirling clouds have formed a greyish funnel-like shape that reaches for the earth. Witnessing the birth of what could possibly turn into a tornado, one of nature's most dangerous phenomena, is truly astonishing and Hiccup can hardly put his feelings into words. Such a library of languages at his disposal and not one word can describe them.

It is fast, too, much faster than he previously anticipated, and the girth is quickly gaining width as well.

But enough staring in wonder at nature's lethal beauty, Hiccup can tell that Toothless worries. That Night Fury has never seen anything like this before and is rightfully freaking out.

But what he can't tell and Hiccup can, is that the swirling of dirt and debris on the ground means that the tornado has already touched down and the funnel simply needs to follow to make its conception complete.

Hiccup also realizes, much too his growing discomfort, that it is much closer than he originally thought.

"Come on, Bud!" Toothless doesn't need to be told twice and he comes with a leap. Looking down into the shelter, he gives Hiccup a skeptical look.

"Hey, I may be an idiot, but humans know how to build things." Hiccup tells him, shouts at him over the growing noise all around them, though he worries whether his dragon will actually fit.

"This will keep us safe, Bud, trust me." He places a hand on Toothless' head, scratches him behind his earfin. The rain is pouring, the hail is falling, and his heart pumps blood through his veins with great speed, but Hiccup still smiles as if aerial wrath isn't about to descend upon them.

Where he gets that kind of bravery, Toothless honestly doesn't know.

Reassured by his Rider's calm demeanor, Toothless finds it in himself to descend into the near pitch-black shelter. The pouring rain stops for him.

Toothless fits and Hiccup feels comforted by this. It is without a doubt not spacious down there, but at least they won't have to face a storm that size.

Speaking of which, he turns to face the monstrous clouds behind him and his breath is taken away.

There is something gorgeous about the display he sees before him.

The funnel now connects the earth and the sky. The clouds are dark, but still, the tornado contrasts greatly against the grey background. The rain doesn't hide its deadly beauty and its enormous size makes him feels insignificant and small. More so than even Toothless had upon their first meeting.

If he'd been born and raised in this country, he probably would've become a storm chaser, of that Hiccup is sure. If life hadn't been turned upside down on a global scale.

Sounding almost like a human groaning in annoyance, Toothless briefly leaves the shelter to grab Hiccup by the shirt and pull him down the stairs.

"Yep! I'm coming! I'm coming!" Snapping out of the trance that will probably kill him someday, Hiccup follows.

Why must the human be so attracted to things that are lethal him? Are all humans like this or just his? He knows Astrid is a lot more careful than Hiccup.

"Toothless, can you find the light switch? I've shown you what they look like, right?" Hiccup asks as he struggles to close the metal doors. The wind has picked up and dirt is starting to fly up outside. The neglected fields are being flattened and by now the rotting fence in view is knocked down. Debris is approaching and before long the tornado itself will be there.

Two trees are uprooted just as Hiccup manages to hold them close and he fights the urge to figure out the EF ranking of this specimen.

The light flickers on and Hiccup finds the latch to keep the entrance closed. Once again he is grabbed by the back of his shirt and he lets Toothless pull him further down. He is in a hurry to get Hiccup with him.

There are many dusty shelves down here, but besides cobwebs and the occasional spider, they are already empty. Plundered empty, most likely. Or the family that lived here, took everything and left. Either way, there isn't much room for something the size of a Night Fury.

Toothless lies curled up with Hiccup in the middle and still he can only move so much.

The roaring of the storm outside grows and grows and the doors aren't quite enough to keep it out. The house above them begins to creak and groan as the unforgiving winds beat it mercilessly.

Despite his size and his lethal nature, Toothless shrinks underneath the unfamiliar noise that sounds so much louder in his sensitive ears. He's never been through a storm this size before. And while Hiccup hasn't either, he at least knows and understands what is currently raging right above them, tearing apart everything in its path.

"Shh, it's okay." Hiccup kneels beside him, pulse just slowing down.

The dragon's instincts are screaming at him to get out and flee, his fear is almost suffocating. All that grounds him now is his human's presence. In the still short time that they've known each other, Hiccup has already proven himself to be far braver than Toothless can ever call himself, though his Rider would disagree. He trusts his judgment.

The house above them gives in beneath the endless abuse and is loudly ripped from its foundation. It is proof of the twister's power.

The dragon yells in Hiccup's face as if he even needs to be told and the human pulls his head onto his lap and embraces it.

He can't imagine how scary this must be for him. Before the surface world, Toothless didn't even know what rain was. So extreme weather like this was like a nightmare come to life.

Wrapping his forelegs around his Rider, Toothless finds solace with him.

The two don't know which is louder. The thunder booming above them or the roaring of the twister that, by all likelihood, is leveling everything above them.

Hiccup attempts to cover his Bud's ears. His own eardrums feel like they are about to burst.

This couldn't have lasted for more then a couple of seconds with the wind speeds this storm travels with, maybe a minute or two at most, but it felt like an eternity. Toothless' grip on his Rider tightens.

And then it passes.

The roaring leaves them, the explosive thundering moves on. Gradually, careful silence returns.

Their ears continue to drum for a little while longer.

Toothless moves to look up to Hiccup to see what the knowledgeable human thinks, but Hiccup shakes his head and pulls him back down.

They wait for at least an hour just to be sure.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Toothless is close to napping when his Rider moves. Letting go, he raises his head to watch Hiccup rise awkwardly on his prosthetic.

He doesn't say a word as he climbs the stairs and out of Toothless' sight. The grating noise of metal sliding against metal reaches his ears and light comes shining down into the shelter.

Hiccup returns soon after with a smile.

"Come on out, Bud. It's safe now." He tells him and Toothless once again doesn't need to be told twice.

The air outside is relieving and welcomes the dragon as he ascends the stairs and exits the shelter. It is humid and a little chilly. Toothless takes a deep sniff and still smells the rain.

The tornado is gone and the wind has calmed. The once quaint farmland, though abandoned, is in ruins all around them. The long grass of the fields and the weeds lie flat against the ground, there is corn all around them, and trees are torn in two or entirely uprooted. Half of the barn has collapsed, but the house has been mostly leveled. Nearby lie the crushed remains of a metal contraption that humans call a car.

Turning his head, in the far distance, Toothless spots the dark tower and lightning is still striking. The thunder isn't as loud now.

But Hiccup isn't looking at the carnage. Hands on his hips, he is staring up at the sky.

Coming to stand next to him, Toothless follows his example.

The clouds above them, now tinted a lovely orange, are strangely shaped now. There is an entire blanket of them separating the earth and the sky above it. There are rows and rows of fluffy pouches that reflects the light of the sun beautifully.

He can see why Hiccup would smile at the sight. And in an area as abandoned as this, no human or dragon life was lost that they know of, so they can only bask in the moment.

"Glad we got that tornado warning, huh, Bud? The movies never said that we still needed to deal with natural disasters. Ah well, the joys of a post-apocalyptic world, I guess." Toothless doesn't know what his Rider is talking about, probably something he used to know from the time before their worlds met.

Hiccup kicks a nearby wooden board away and removes his backpack to check its contents. There are some things in there that can't get wet. Fortunately, it is a good backpack and everything inside it is still dry. He briefly ponders his raincoat, but leaves it. His plaid shirt and the one beneath it are already wet, no use pulling it out now.

But they were lucky, that is for sure. They are probably bruised, to be sure, but that the hail didn't hit them in the head, or the eyes in Toothless' case, is nothing short of a miracle. And to come upon this abandoned land with a storm shelter when they needed it most... If people still lived here then he and Toothless would have been forced to brave the storm.

Though they can still see flashes of lightning in the clouds in the far distance, the storm is dying. And with the sun setting in the horizon, Hiccup figures it is probably wise to find a nice spot to spend the night. Somewhere far away, where he would be certain they will be safe.

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han100894 · 4 years

Text

Caught up fully with Girl Genius again: Some thoughts.

So, I’ve once again caught up on the comic, and once again have a few thoughts:

The sub-arc itself is interesting. I’m wondering what the connection between this is about. I’m going to throw out a guess that the dirty water might be dyne water, or the equivalent. And I’m also curious if this arc is going to explain why they can’t to America. We were already showed a globe with Atlantis on it plus the people they are talking about may be Atlantians or similar, we have giant leviathans, and this dirty water. Any of these things, together or apart, could be stopping travel to and from…

I did find the mermaid suit joke a bit too long run though. It kind of felt it was taking up pages that could have been used on other things. Like Zeetha and Higgs talk for instance.

And now for the Zeetha/Higgs stuff:

Honestly I admit I’m disappointed we didn’t see Higgs actually tell Zeetha his secrets. I understand it was likely to avoid repeating the information when he then told Agatha, but at the same time the fact there was so much potential for relationship and character development with it makes me sad. That said, since so far we haven’t been told otherwise, I’m sticking with my HC that Zeetha was pretty much aware of both the “I’m a Jäger” secret and the “I’m the Spymaster secret.”

(I hope it stays that way, or gets confirmed, just because of if Tarvek and Gil get to figure Higgs out—then his god damned girlfriend of two and a half years, who has canon evidence of knowing something is up and being suspicious—should be able to as well. Being a Spark doesn’t up your ability to sense intentions and spys, and Zeetha is as much a royal trained as they are.)

Now the Jägerdraught bit—I’m not sure what to think about it. I don’t hate it, but at the same time I’m not thrilled. I would have preferred Zeetha keep up as her badass normal self, or get something connected to Skifander as an upgrade than this. Plus now her fight with Bang isn’t going to be her vrs Bang, it’s going to be her+Draught vrs Bang, I don’t know, just because she’s been the worf so often if feels unfair to her character. I think it might be the fact that it was done to her without her knowledge, or our knowledge, and that it’s been so long since it happened… That plus she hasn’t been able to win a good fight in forever, and it would have been more… comfortable if she got this after having been able to do stuff on her own? I guess?

(I’m still rooting for a mix of a “War Spark” and or her getting to go God Queen in some fashion)

I also hope we get to see her mad, or at least frustrated by the fact Higgs and Mamma didn’t tell her. This isn’t like Higgs others secrets, protected by the troth, this is something Higgs could have had Mamma tell her as soon as she woke up that wouldn’t have hinted at all to any other secret of his. Plus the fact that at any point she could of started mutating or who knows what, without a clue why… I don’t know—I just can’t see that being let go, or at least it shouldn’t be.

Though honestly I feel like the reason Zeetha wasn’t told, is because the Fogilos only decided recently that she was given the draught. Looking back in the comic it sure didn’t seem like Higgs was too concerned about her dying on him as he didn’t rush much to get her out. Not to mention there was no hints that Jagerdraught could heal things before this.

Though… actually, Dyne water on its own generally killed people, but occasionally did miraculous healings… and while it was implied that was through touch, with drinking being unheard of until Ht’ro’dokin or however his name is spelled, did it… it would be kind of funny if the Jägerdraught was basically neutralized down to just dyne water (Maybe they expire XD) and Zeetha is basically a second Ht’rok’dokin as far as luck went…

But anyway I’m think it may have been done it because the Fogilos realized Higgs was immortal and she wasn’t, I don’t know.

Either way though, the fact that she hasn’t started changing is interesting. Considering how rare Higgs not-changeness is, the chances she would also be like him is crazy small. And sure it may just be she hasn’t gone through the right ritual, but the Dyne by itself caused mutations on the local wildlife. Considering she was once again used as a Worf with the Geisterdamen in Paris, presumably she hasn’t gained any non-noticeable changes either.

Though if it is just there is a second step, and that second step involves being electrocuted, then I’d like to point out that Agatha used her as a resistor in Paris… While it’s very much not what I want to happen, I could see that shock starting things up and her starting to Jagerize while fighting Bang or something… eh…

Then again… Jagerdraught is built from Dyne water, and she was shocked by Agatha albeit two and a half years later, this is totally a crack theory but I would laugh if she did slowly go God Queen from that like Agatha did XD

So I’m wondering if her being Skifanderian is still going to play a part, one way or another. Especially as in the last arc Skifander and Mechanicsburg has become increasingly intertwined. Presumably all the God Queens had a dyne like source, so if Zeetha is already “tempered” by Skifander’s source, maybe she reacts better to the Dyne water?

And I’m super into Oggie and Zeetha talking time. Her relationship with the boys are important to me. And I’m curious about where this is going? Is she asking aboutOggie’s wife because she’s wondering about Higgs being a Jäger will mean for their relationship? (I kind of hope not, if only because that would potentially mean she didn’t catch on he was a Jäger, which she really, really should have. Though maybe it’s just that now it’s out in the air she can ask about it.) Whatever she’s searching for—she’s not asking Higgs about it, which is interesting. Are we going to get in and see how she’s actually feeling about possible turning into a Jäger. Are we going to see some vulnerability and insecurities? Are we going to get some insight on her end about her relationship with Higgs? Insight on her thoughts since the timeskip period? She’s had a hard time of things but so far it’s like she went through the portal with Agatha with how she hasn’t seemed to be bothered or changed…

So basically I’m really, really curious, and also really, really inpatient XD

#girl genius #zeetha #airman higgs #axel higgs #theories #jagermonster

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the-recusants-sigil · 5 years

Photo

Back again with Part 3- going in numerical order, that would be Vexen!!

I’m having a lot of fun with this prompt. Hope you like <3

Vexen

Words: 1939

-The first thing Vexen became aware of was the sensation of waves generally lapping at him. He could hear the faint roar of the ocean, feel the soft sand give way beneath him. The water was cool, pleasantly cool, a welcome relief from that suffocating trenchcoat, now soaked and filled with kelp.

-He felt the afternoon sun beating down on him, and at once he became acutely aware of the situation: this wasn't Agrabah. Agrabah didn't have an ocean. He was barely conscious, lying spread-eagle on a beach in all black; wherever he was, there was simply no way he didn't stick out like a sore thumb. The man tried to get to his feet, but faltered as soon as he placed some weight on his ankle. It was broken, no doubt, and he felt the pain shoot through his body, up his spine and into his shoulders. So he couldn't move, but he could at least look around and try to gain his bearings.

-This world was far different from any other that he'd been to. Vexen could make out small white dots moving incredibly fast off in the distance. Boats, perhaps? Further down the beach, he could see a couple strolling along with a fluffy dog in tow. Behind him, he heard footsteps on what he supposed was a boardwalk.

-”Hey there!” Vexen bristled; rule number one was to never be seen while out on a mission, and he had just failed miserably. Not that he could have done much with a broken ankle, he supposed, but this was still bad. “Do you need some help, sir?”

-”Er- no, no! I'm fine. Thank you, really, but I am quite alright, I-”

-”Okay,” the voice continued, “but you should really try to move. You've been there for a while, and the tide is about to come in. So if you don't want to drown...”

-”You know, actually,” he cut the good Samaritan off quickly, “I think I've broken my ankle. Perhaps I could use some assistance after all... if you are willing?”

-The man was tall- very tall- but you had no trouble helping him off the ground once you had a good hold on him. His long, blonde hair was tangled, green eyes weary, but he wouldn't allow himself to lean too heavily on you despite the obvious pain he was in. You carefully guided him up onto the boardwalk, steadying him when his legs wobbled, then across the street to the cafe your parents owned. It was a small place, normally bustling during “beach season”, but it was getting late in the afternoon, and most seemed to opt for ice cream instead. You deposited him at a booth and ran into the kitchen to grab him some water. In all likelihood, he was dehydrated.

-Vexen took the ice water from you gratefully, and when you sat down across from him, he didn't protest. After a few minutes of silence, he finally asked, “Why did you stop to help me?”

-This question gave you pause. “If somebody drowned right across from our shop, it might negatively impact business?” You shrugged weakly; it hadn't been entirely untrue, but you also didn't really know why you stopped. Call it a random act of kindness.

-”Sound logic,” the man sighed, finishing the water in his glass. “Well, thank you, kind stranger.”

-You smiled. “Please, call me Y/N. Now... do you need to see a doctor, sir?”

-”Nonononono. NO doctors,” he practically screeched before collecting himself. That was the last thing he needed, and the Superior would surely have his head. “Just... oh, goodness that hurts- just something to immobilize it and an ice pack, please, Y/N. And... my name is Vexen. Apologies for not introducing myself sooner.”

-Behind the cafe's storefront, through the kitchen, was the master's suite where your family lived. It was small, with a cramped living room, two tiny bathrooms, and two bedrooms: one for you and one for your parents. Luckily for Vexen, there wasn't much walking to be done to get to anything in the house. He made himself at home in your room, studying the contents of the bookshelves that lined the walls. There were some children's books mixed in with more advanced novels, and a few textbooks from your time at university.

-”Have you lived here your whole life?” he asked, trying as hard as he could to be pleasant. He wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of here and get back to the Castle before Saix demanded his head on a pike, but for now, it was wise to play nice.

-”Perceptive,” you replied with a nod. “Yep- Born and raised here. Went to college ten minutes away, but came back home after because my parents are getting older and need some help running the place. I wanted to be a marine biologist, but...” Vexen thought of little Ienzo, then, always his little helper, and he felt his chest tighten.

-“But maybe that can happen later. I still have big dreams,” you finished quietly.

-”Ah. So you studied Biology,” he mused, “it is always nice to make the acquaintance of a fellow academic. So, in this area...”

-The two of you went on and on for hours about the local wildlife, your misadventures in education, the swarm of idiots that seemed to flock to the Jersey shore in the summer. You reminisced about the semester you'd been a Teacher's Assistant giving lectures and grading assignments, and you remembered the one student in the last section of the day that wrote every assignment in crayon. Vexen assured you, with a quiet chuckle, that he had a colleague exactly like that.

-Just past midnight, you finally passed out, and Vexen took it as a prime opportunity to down the last potion he had left. The throbbing pain in his ankles subsided within the minute, and much to his relief, he found that he could once again put weight on it. If you asked in the morning, he'd tell you he just sprained it.

-Yet, there was a part of him, deep down, that wanted to tell you the truth. After all, you had helped him. Even after knowing you for such a short amount of time, he couldn't deny that he felt some kind of a connection with you. You could keep up with him in conversation, unlike the troglodytes he called colleagues, and you were interested in what he had to say. Without going into too much detail, he told you a bit about the work he did before... before the Organization. You'd shown genuine interest, and if he had a heart, it would have fluttered.

-Vexen, no. Think of the mission. You have to go back, he thought to himself. But... maybe one more day here couldn't hurt.

-So when he awoke the next morning and strode into the living room to find your family gathered there, his blood practically turned to ice in his veins. Your parents sat on the couch, eyeing the strange man warily; your father reached for something behind the couch and Vexen panicked inwardly.

-”Mom, Dad, he's fine,” you called from the kitchen, and they relaxed somewhat. He nodded awkwardly and made his way into the kitchen, nearly hitting his head on the doorframe as he entered.

-Vexen was surprised to see you waiting with breakfast ready. He gratefully accepted the food, the two of you discussed plans for the day. You inquired about his ankle, and he fed you the pre-rehearsed line; when you didn't push the issue, he sighed in relief. You wanted to make sure he was alright with a bit of a walk; a tour of the town would be the perfect thing to do, since he didn't know where he was or how he got here, and it might help him regain his bearings.

-Vexen, on the other hand, was thankful for a much-needed vacation day with someone whose company he actually enjoyed.

-Wait, did he just think that?

-Vexen strolled along the boardwalk with you, enjoying the breeze in his hair. He made sure to take smaller steps than normal so that you could keep up without jogging after him. He breathed in the scent of brine, watched the gulls drift lazily through the sky, and smiled, ever so slightly. Even the crowd seemed not to bother him- normally, a boardwalk bustling with rowdy beachgoers, dogs, and children would have been far too much for him, but for today, the presence of others was inconsequential.

-You pointed out various historical landmarks as you walked: an old inn that had been running for two hundred years, the original lighthouse that had fallen out of use in favor of a newer one that wasn't crumbling, the childhood home of an influential musician and, of course, the university you went to. He took it all in, but more and more, he found himself noting the smallest details about you.

-There were the little things, like the way your nose crinkled when you laughed or the way you stubbornly sipped at your coffee even though you knew it was too hot to drink. The breeze in your hair, the way you said his name, the quiet remarks you made about passersby that only he would pick up on...

-He came back down to earth when you took his hand and led him into an antique shop. The oldest one for a hundred miles, you told him, and his focus shifted to the densely packed display booths. Nearly all of them were chock full of furniture and various artifacts of eras long gone, like soldiers' uniforrms, milk cans, and record players. His eyes landed on a tall bookshelf packed with all sorts of volumes, and he immediately reached for a tattered hardback with yellow pages. The Complete Works of Edgar Allen Poe.

-Zexion will love this, he thought.

-That book was the only purchase the two of you made, and by the time you decided to leave, the sun had already begun to set. He knew it wouldn't be easy, but Vexen had to tell you goodbye sooner or later.

-”Y/N, thank you for spending such a lovely day with me,” he began slowly. You knew exactly where this was going. “But I really must get back to-”

-Vexen's face went bright red as your lips collided with his, stopping him mid-sentence. It was a quick kiss, but in that moment, he wished he could have stopped time and made it last longer. You pulled away quickly, face flushed, tucking your hair behind your ear nervously. “I- I'm sorry. You have to go back to work. I know. Well... Don't forget about me, okay? Come visit again sometime. Maybe without a sprained ankle, though.”

Still beet red, he stammered and scrambled for some kind of dignified response. “Uh, I- Well, yes. Yes, I will be back to visit. I promise you. Cafe at the Shore. I would not dare forget.” he turned to leave, but stopped abruptly. “...Thank you, Y/N. Really. I will see you again, sooner rather than later.”

-He turned away and walked further down the boardwalk, ears still visibly red from the encounter. As you watched him leave, you couldn't help but feel a little sad. He would be back, though. You knew it.

-It took Vexen a few minutes, but he eventually found a narrow alley he could duck into and open a corridor back home. He'd likely be in deep shit for failing so miserably in Agrabah, but after today, he wasn't sure he minded all that much.

#considermeafriend #kh imagine #vexen x reader #vexen #organization xiii #in which vexen visits the jersey shore and doesnt hate it #modern!reader #kh

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advocaado · 5 years

Text

Day 19: Dragons

Another late one! I’m so sorry about this. I just have very little time to write now with the holidays so close. Please bear with me.

@thirtydaysofzutara @zutaramonth

Find the whole collection on fanfiction.net User: Advocaat

It was an accident. It was a single, teeny-tiny, barely-noticeable mistake. It was the sort of trivial miscalculation that was so seemingly innocuous that the great spirit Barnaby could be forgiven for not catching it. After all, it was nothing that affected him nor anyone who resided on his plane of existence. It was the sort of minor error that happened daily to the best of spirits; the kind that was so utterly inconsequential that it normally wouldn’t even be worth the small amount of energy it took to fix were it discovered.

The problem is, you see, that screw-ups made by the divine have a nasty habit of manifesting in the human world as divine screw-ups. And when the Fire Lord suddenly and inexplicably popped out of existence and was replaced by a two-ton, fire-breathing dragon in the middle of giving a speech at the annual peace summit in Ba Sing Se, there was, quite honestly, no more fitting description.

This, of course, caused no small amount of panic. After all, the last time a dragon had been seen by anyone was at least thirty years ago, and to have one suddenly spewing fire and carrying on inside the Earth Palace was not the sort of thing any reasonable person would generally be equipped to handle. This, unfortunately, included the Avatar and his friends.

Now, as we all know, dragons are famously interested in only two things: treasure being one.

The other being princesses.

So it was that when the dragon-fied Fire Lord swept over the crowd on leathery wings, snatched up the daughter of Chief Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe, and promptly flew straight through King Kuei’s favorite decorative window, nobody could fault him for it. Katara was the closest thing present to a princess, after all. And the window was very shiny.

What follows is a series of snippets showing the events that transpired between Fire Lord Zuko absconding with Katara of the Southern Water Tribe and the Avatar journeying to the spirit world to fix this dragon-sized debacle.

oOo

“Really, Zuko? A cave? You could’ve picked anywhere to be your lair—the Fire Palace, an air temple, a tropical island, a laundromat—but instead you picked a stupid cave. You know I’m going to freeze in here. I’m not dressed for spelunking.”

Zuko snorted and tucked his nose into his wing. He was, apparently, entirely unconcerned by her complaints.

Katara was about to be very offended. She opened her mouth and prepared a finger for some very stern wagging, but she was abruptly knocked off her feet when Zuko’s tail snaked around her from behind and pulled her against his warm body. Katara’s lecture died on her tongue. “I guess that works,” she grumbled. Jabbing a finger into his side, she added, “But don’t think this suffices as a long-term solution. If you’re going to keep me here, you at least need to get me some bedding.”

Zuko made no motion to reply, He merely closed his eyes and began to breath evenly and slowly.

oOo

“Why’d you kidnap me, anyway?” Katara asked as she drew little doodles in the earth outside the cave with a stick. “I mean, not that I don’t enjoy hanging out with you, but I’d think your animal instincts would drive you to more familiar behavior, such as trying to capture the Avatar. You know, I bet Aang would even think that was cool.”

Zuko’s canine lips parted, showing off a row of long, wicked-looking teeth and he tossed his head. His bright gold eyes rose to the ceiling briefly before falling back down to look at her.

Katara stopped sketching and placed her hands on her hips. “Did you just roll your eyes at me?”

Zuko snuffled his great nose and managed to look noncommittal despite his severely limited facial mobility.

Katara’s eyes narrowed. “Just how much man and how much beast am I talking to right now? You seem to understand me, which means you’re intelligent. But are you actually aware of what’s going on right now? Do you know what happened to you?”

Zuko just stared down at her with large, catlike eyes.

Katara frowned back at him. “You’d better not be playing dumb. This is a huge mess, you realize. We can’t go on living in this cave forever. I mean, you’ve got a country to run and I’ve got… Well, I’ve got stuff. I guess.”

Zuko’s nostrils flared and he exhaled a puff of steam that engulfed Katara in a muggy cloud.

Katara crinkled up her face and swatted the cloud away. “Stop that! You’re going to make my hair frizzy.”

oOo

“Zuko!”

A poke.

“Zuko!”

A jab.

“Zuko! Wake up!”

This time, Katara smacked his scaly neck, hoping it would be enough to rouse the slumbering dragon. Her effort was rewarded when one of Zuko’s large eyes opened slowly and he gave her an annoyed look.

“Thank goodness you’re awake. I need to use the bathroom and you’re blocking the exit.”

Zuko looked like he wanted nothing more than to drop back into dreamland, but he hefted his heavy serpentine body off the floor and slithered out of the way so that she could reach the cave mouth.

Katara thanked him with a pat. “Jeez, why couldn’t you have turned into something more manageable? Like a cat? Or a hamsterkeet?”

Zuko snuffed and lowered his head back to the floor, shutting his eyes again.

Katara left her friend behind to step out into the chilly woods. She shivered and rubbed her upper arms, feeling gooseflesh under her palms. It was dark still, but she could tell by the pale halo on the surrounding mountains that dawn was approaching.

She took care of her business quickly and hurried back to the cave, determined to get some more shut-eye before the sun rose and turned Zuko on. Night was the only time she ever got any peace. As long as the sun was out, Zuko was an unstoppable force of dragon energy. He hunted, he terrorized the local wildlife by dive-bombing them from the sky, he tromped around scraping off tree bark with his enormous claws, and La help her whenever she chose to go to the river for a bath. He loved water and he would dive in and out of the river, tossing water this way and that while she attempted to wash her hair. He was so unlike his normal, human self that sometime Katara wondered if the beast really was Zuko or if Zuko had been sent somewhere else and this dragon had been deposited in his place.

But Katara knew that wasn’t the case. Though his facial scar was missing, likely due to the fact that dragon skin was impervious to fire, his lightning scar was still very much present, as she’d seen when he’d rolled onto his back to scratch his shoulders.

So, then, where was her Zuko? Was his personality still there, but buried under layers of dragon instincts? Did he even know who she was, or had he kidnapped her completely by coincidence?

She wished he could talk. That would make all this much easier. She also wished she had some window to the outside world. She could only imagine the chaos the Fire Nation was facing with their ruler up and vanished. By now, the story of what had happened at the summit in Ba Sing Se would’ve spread and everyone no doubt knew about the Fire Lord turning into a dragon and absconding with her. Katara was sure the rumor mill was having a field day.

There had already been plenty of rumors about her and Zuko to begin with. This would do absolutely nothing to help that.

As she reached the cave, she decided that when Zuko woke up she was going to have a chat with him about going back to check on the world situation. At the very least, they needed to reassure their friends that they were okay.

oOo

It turned out they didn’t need to do any reassuring after all because the next day, Aang, Sokka, Toph, and Suki showed up at their cave.

Katara had been attempting to convince Zuko to throw out a sapling he’d ripped out of the ground and was gnawing on as if it were some kind of chew toy when they arrived. He was shaking leaves all over the cave and she was not at all relishing the idea of having to clean up after him. It was as she was in the midst of wagging her finger at him and giving him a talking to in her most stern tone that Appa descended from the sky and landed a few feet away with a groan of greeting.

“Katara! Zuko! There you are!”

Katara turned around in surprise. “Aang?” she greeted the young, bald monk, shocked to see him there. Her gaze moved past him to the others who were in the process of jumping down from Appa’s saddle. “How did you guys find us all the way out here?”

“We followed reports of dragon sightings to find the general area and then we used Appa to search from the sky until we spotted you,” Sokka answered, coming up beside Aang. He smiled widely then and enveloped Katara is a hug. “I’m glad to see you’re alright. We were really worried.”

Behind her, Zuko snuffed and lashed his tail, apparently offended by the insinuation that she’d been in any danger.

The movement caused the group’s attention to turn to him and Katara watched her friends study Zuko with interest and wariness. The weight of their scrutiny caused him to extend his neck to its full height and shake his fluffy head at them like a peeved rabbiroo.

“So, that’s Zuko?” Suki asked disbelievingly.

“Gained a few pounds, that’s for sure,” Toph remarked from the side of the group.

Aang frowned and approached Zuko with his hand out. Zuko watched him warily but didn’t do anything to stop his advance. When Aang placed his hand on Zuko’s shoulder blade, Zuko made a short, thoughtful rumbling noise deep in his throat. He seemed to decide Aang wasn’t a threat because he lowered his head, relaxing out of his defensive stance.

“Do you know how this happened, Aang?” Katara asked, joining the young monk at Zuko’s side. “If we don’t figure out how to return him to normal, the Fire Nation’s going to have a real crisis on their hands.”

Aang shook his head. “I don’t know. I’ve never heard of a person changing into an animal.” He squinted up at Zuko and crossed his arms.

Sokka stepped forward then, scratching his chin as he appeared to inspect Zuko up, down, left and right. “Doesn’t this whole thing sort of reek of spirit world shenanigans?” he postulated. “I mean, the only times I’ve ever seen one thing turn into another thing were when the spirits were involved. You know, like Yue turning into the moon and you turning into Koizilla.”

Aang nodded. “You have a point. Humans can’t just transform all on their own.”

“Well, why don’t you go ask you friends in the spirit world?” Toph suggested, raising her hands palm-up. “Even if they don’t know what happened, they might know of a way to fix it.”

Again, Aang nodded. “Yeah. That sounds like the best course of action. I’ll go right away.”

“Well, then,” Sokka said, turning back around to look at the group. “I guess we’d better get comfortable. This could take a while.”

oOo

While Aang meditated outside the cave, the rest of the group sat in a circle and thought about what they were going to do if Aang couldn’t find the answer he was looking for.

“I mean, I guess he could still lead the Fire Nation,” Sokka posited. “There aren’t any laws saying a dragon can’t be Fire Lord, right?”

“And just how exactly is he supposed to govern when all he wants to do is scrape up trees and eat squirrelmunks?” Toph argued. “Not to mention it’s difficult to give orders when you can’t talk.”

“Well, what do you want to do? Hand the throne over to Azula?”

The whole group cringed visibly. That was definitely not an option.

Zuko, who had been lying quietly with his head on the ground beside Katara, suddenly came alive and opened his mouth, displaying his rows of daggerlike teeth. He coiled his neck back and his throat moved, producing an odd growling rumble. They watched his lips and tongue move in a way that looked very unnatural on his canine face and he cycled through a collection of sounds, none of which anyone in the group could extrapolate any meaning from.

“Is he…trying to speak?” Sokka wondered aloud, his eyebrows shooting up nearly to his hairline.

In response to his question, Zuko gnashed his teeth in frustration and wagged his head up and down violently.

That was a sign all of them could understand.

Sokka’s mouth dropped open in shock and he scrambled to his feet to lunge comically over to Zuko. He grabbed Zuko’s great snout and leaned forward to look him in the eyes. “Whoa! Zuko! Are you in there, buddy?”

Zuko made an annoyed barking sound and tossed his head to shake Sokka off. His tail rose off the ground and lashed the side of the cave, leaving a mark on the stone.

Katara rose to her feet as well and placed a hand on his neck, causing him to still. He craned his neck around to look at her and she could read frustration in his large, gold eyes. He made a noise that sounded almost like a whine and one of his feet scraped at the ground, creating five parallel lines in the dirt. “Zuko?” she questioned tentatively. “Is that really you in there?”

Zuko tossed his head again and a jittering growl rose out of his throat. Katara’s brows furrowed in confusion and she looked beseechingly back at her friends. “What does that mean? Was that a yes or a no?”

Suki shrugged helplessly and Toph raised a hand to her chin. “I don’t know if it was either. It sounds like he’s fighting his dragon instincts. It’s like he wants to communicate with us but he can’t.”

Katara turned back around to look at Zuko. Was that true? Was his personality in conflict with the dragon’s? That sounded awful.

Zuko made another whining sound and dropped his head back onto the floor.

“Well, it seems like he wasn’t too pleased by Sokka’s suggestion to let Azula take over,” she submitted. “I guess if he feels strongly enough about something his human self can override his dragon side?”

Toph snorted and turned to look vaguely in the direction of Zuko’s shoulder. “Sorry, Zuko, but I don’t think brief flashes of personality are going to be enough to run your country. You could always consider becoming Katara’s pet, though.”

Zuko crumpled his snout up and snapped his jaws at her. Katara as well levelled Toph with an unimpressed glower. “Toph…”

“Listen guys,” Sokka spoke again, walking into the center of the circle. “We don’t even need to be having this discussion because Zuko is going to turn back to normal. Aang will figure this out and we’ll have the old Zuko back in no time. So let’s stop trying to turn him into a pet and instead think about how we’re going to explain this whole mess after Zuko gets re-humanfied.”

oOo

“Well, guys, I have some good news and some bad news.”

The members of Team Avatar exchanged wary glances. This can’t be good, was the thought on all their minds.

“Why don’t you tell us the good news first?” Katara suggested, raising a hand imploringly.

Aang nodded and the straight line of his mouth curved upward into a smile. “Okay. The good news is that Zuko can definitely be turned back.”

A sigh of relief rose up through the group at Aang’s announcement and Katara’s face broke into a pleased smile. “That’s great!”

Sokka nodded his agreement. “So, then, what’s the bad news?”

At once, Aang’s smile faltered. “Um, yeah. The bad news is that I don’t know how to do it.”

A period of silence followed this statement as the group looked at Aang uncomprehendingly.

“What do you mean you don’t know how to do it?” Toph asked the burning question. “Didn’t the spirits tell you?”

Aang smiled sheepishly and scratched the back of his head. “Well, the spirit I talked to said that the solution was super obvious and not worth his time to explain. Then he shooed me away.”

Sokka slapped his forehead with his palm. “Shooed you away? You didn’t try asking again?”

Aang held his hands up helplessly. “I couldn’t! He shooed me right out of the spirit world.”

Katara exchanged a baffled look with Suki. Spirits could do that?

The next one to speak was Suki. She crossed her arms over her chest and shifted her weight onto one foot before saying, “Well, he said the solution was obvious, so maybe it’s something we can work out for ourselves.”

Upon Suki’s suggestion, Aang and Katara adopted contemplative expressions while Toph and Sokka looked immediately at a loss. “Like what? Ask him?” Toph asked, brandishing her arms. Stepping up to Zuko who was pawing the ground impatiently, she shouted, “Turn back into a human!”

Zuko snorted and flicked his tail but remained quite clearly a dragon.

“Did you really think that was going to work?” Katara asked her, crossing her arms over her chest.

“What? The spirit said it was obvious. That seemed like the most obvious solution to me.”

“Yeah,” Sokka agreed. “What else are we supposed to try? A kiss from prince charming?” He puckered his lips and made obnoxious kissing noises.

The suggestion was obviously meant as a joke, but Suki’s eyes widened and she clapped her hands together. “Wait! Maybe that’s it!”

Sokka turned around to eye her skeptically. “Suki, it was a joke.”

Suki shook her head. “No, it’s a valid suggestion,” she argued. “Think about all the fairy tales where a cursed prince or princess is cured by a kiss.” She turned to point at Zuko. “Zuko’s not technically a prince anymore, but he’s still cursed royalty. Maybe he needs the kiss of a princess to turn him back into a human.”

The group looked around at each other as they considered this. Suki did make a fair point.

“But I thought it was supposed to be true love’s kiss,” Aang disputed. “Won’t it not work if the person who kisses him isn’t in love with him?”

Toph waved a hand dismissively. “Love schmove. Most of the kisses in those stories are from people who literally just met each other. I’m pretty sure just being a princess will be enough.”

Aang didn’t look convinced. “I dunno… I still think it’s supposed to be true love.”

Sokka called the group’s attention to himself by clearing his throat. “Why don’t we just try having Katara kiss him. She’s the most princess-like thing around here. If it doesn’t work, we’ll go find Mai or something.”

Katara made a face at her brother, unappreciative of being called a thing. Still, she couldn’t argue that the three nations were a little short on princesses at the moment. They certainly weren’t about to go and fetch Azula.

“But—”

Aang started to protest, but he was cut off by Katara. “Fine.” She uncrossed her arms and marched over to Zuko. Giving him an unimpressed look, she said, “I’m subjecting myself to dragon slobber for you. I hope you appreciate that.”

“Hey, are you sure you don’t want to maybe think this over for a moment? Maybe there’s another—”

Katara once again ignored Aang and beckoned Zuko to lower his head with a finger. Zuko did as instructed and when his head was within reach she leaned in and pressed her lips to the tip of his snout.

There was a moment where nothing happened. Katara was about to pull away when there was an audible pop! and suddenly the mouth pressed to hers was very much more human than it had been a moment ago.

Startled by the noise and the change, Katara took a step back, breaking the contact. A gasp rose up from their onlookers and Katara’s eyes widened in surprise.

There, standing in front of her as if he’d always been there, was Zuko, back in his proper form and looking just as surprised as they were.

Save for one very noticeable change.

Zuko blinked in astonishment and then lowered his chin to look down at himself. “Oh, thank the spirits, I’m clothed,” he pronounced with a great deal of relief.

Objectively, it was an odd choice for a first sentence following being de-dragonfied, but none of Team Avatar were of the right mind to give it a second thought because they were very much focused on something of far greater interest.

“Zuko…” Katara started, lifting a finger to point at him. “Your face…”

Zuko blinked again and gave her an uncomprehending look. Confused, he raised his hands to his face and touched it with his fingertips. “What? What’s wrong with—” He stopped abruptly when the fingers of his left hand ran over the left side of his face. Katara watched him prod the area first in confusion then shock. “My scar,” he uttered disbelievingly.

“It’s gone,” Sokka finished for him, sounding just as amazed.

Sure enough, Zuko’s left eye, which had previously been warped by angry scar tissue, was now whole and completely unmarked. He also sported two matching eyebrows and a wholly formed left ear. He moved his two good eyes around to look at each member of Team Avatar one by one and Katara noted that he didn’t have to turn his head to see Toph, who was standing in his periphery. As the reality of the change registered, Zuko’s lips turned upward into a smile and then stretched all the way into a grin. “It’s gone,” he echoed Sokka, excitement lacing his tone. “It’s gone!” He laughed out loud and touched the locale again in joyous wonder.

Katara found herself grinning as well. “Zuko, that’s wonderful.”

Zuko removed his hand from him face and turned his pleased expression on her. Without warning, he took a step forward and grabbed her waist with both hands, lifting her high into the air and spinning her around elatedly. Katara made a noise of surprise upon being removed from the ground but laughed when she saw Zuko’s happy face grinning up at her. He set her down after two spins and grabbed her in a tight hug.

“It must be because of the transformation,” Suki posited when he let her go.

“Yeah, speaking of which,” Sokka chimed back in, “Zuko, you were just a full-sized, fire-breathing dragon. You do know that, right?”

Zuko turned from Katara to look at them. His happy smile faded into a more serious expression. “Yeah, sort of.” He crossed his arms and his eyebrows pinched together. “It’s kind of hazy, but I’m aware that happened.”

“And are you aware that you kidnapped Katara and have been hiding in this cave for the past few days?” Aang asked, pointing to the cavemouth at Zuko’s back.

Zuko turned around to look at the cave and Katara saw a confused look appear on his face. “I did?”

“Yeah, you definitely did,” Sokka confirmed. “The whole world’s in a panic about that, by the way.”

Zuko’s cheeks colored slightly and he shot Katara an apologetic look. “Oh. Uh, sorry.”

Katara shook her head. “Don’t mention it. Really.”

“Well, then,” Suki said, her tone portending a topic shift. “Now that Zuko’s back to normal—er, mostly—I think it’s about time we get him back to Ba Sing Se so we can explain what happened to the Earth King before things get any more out of control.”

Zuko nodded vigorously. “Yes. That’s a great idea. Let’s go immediately.”

Spurred into action by Suki’s statement, the group left the cave behind and made for Appa. They had a dragon-ton of damage control to do.

As the members of Team Avatar clambered up into Appa’s saddle, Aang hung back, an uncomfortable look on his face. To himself, he muttered, “Wait, that worked because Katara’s royalty, right? It wasn’t true love.”

“Aang, get over here!” Toph shouted from Appa’s saddle. “Bison’s leaving!”

Aang shook his head and jogged over to Appa.

No, surely not. Katara and Zuko? In love? Psssh. Not in a million years.

#Zutara #Zutara Month 2018 #zk month 2018 #30 days of Zutara #i really enjoyed writing this one #this is the kind of crack story that makes my joker heart glad

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meetthetank · 6 years

Text

Peccatum Chapter 4: The Hounds and their Master

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14454675/chapters/36861228

Rating: Mature

Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Category: F/M

Fandom: NieR: Automata (Video Game)

Relationships: 2B/9S (NieR: Automata), A2/A4 (NieR: Automata), Jackass/The Commander (NieR: Automata)

Characters: 2B (NieR: Automata), 9S (NieR: Automata), A2 (NieR: Automata, A4 (NieR: Automata)

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe, genre typical violence, long fic, Slow Burn, War

Despite his reservations, traveling with 2B is relatively painless. Enjoyable even. When she isn’t soaring on the gentle mountain breezes above him, she keeps stride beside him and listens to him talk about one thing or another. Most of the time it’s just 9S rambling about something idle and meaningless, such as 2B’s mainly fish diet and 9S’ love of cherry flavored ice cream. Sometimes 9S explores tangents that are only vaguely related to what they were talking about, like the subtle exploitation of trade routes that allow for the transportation of foreign goods such as cherries. He’ll go into the economic ramifications of this, but the bewildered look on 2B’s face brings him back to reality. Not everyone finds these topics as interesting as he does.

When she isn’t next to 9S letting him talk her ear off, 2B transforms and circles around him in the sky. That far in the air, he sometimes mistakes her for a large vulture with the way she soars for long stretches without beating her wings at all. Her flight patterns are so graceful 9S has a hard time believing that this is the same floundering idiot bird he pulled out of the ocean. 9S has a theory about why this is and makes a mental note to ask her where she’s from whenever they stop to rest next.

It’s a strange feeling to enjoy a trek in the wilderness since 9S typically makes these months-long journeys alone. Having someone to talk to, to listen and respond to him, makes it not only bearable but pleasant. Even though he loves verbally dissecting any topic to a willing ear, trying to figure out the quirks and behaviors that make up 2B is far more interesting.

She prefers to listen, rather than speak it seems. Even when prompted by 9S to elaborate on an aspect of her culture or her home, 2B responds with a simple one or two word answer and the two of them lapse into a long bout of silence. Eventually, 9S resigns to inane questions that don’t seem to put her on edge. It does surprise him that she is so closed off when it comes to herself and her home. He isn’t sure why she is or why he assumes her to be open with her life.

At 9S’ recommendation, the pair avoids the main road. It’s a rule of his to only use it if he needs a warm place to sleep for the night or if the surrounding wilderness is too dangerous. With 2B either keeping pace beside him or circling above there isn’t much local wildlife that can take the both of them on. Occasionally they do venture onto the road when it transforms from a well kept cobbled path to little more than a dirt trail.

9S comes across a small group of people camped out on the dirt path while 2B soars above them. A ragged bunch that 9S mistakes for beggars at first, but then he sees the despondent look on their faces, the way a mother clings to her whimpering child, and the small cart filled with haphazard belongings. The image of the smoldering remains of a village flash into his mind. He casts a sorrowful glance back at the refugees as he passes them by. The only one who looks up at him is a young girl clutching a scorched doll.

The desolate villages come as no surprise to 9S; many smaller towns have been abandoned and left to rot in recent years. Towns that used to be hubs of activity or places to rest while on the road are now nothing more than piles of wood and burned farmland.

2B returns to her human form beside 9S as they pass the remains of a village.

“...I hadn’t realized how bad things had gotten,” she mutters to him.

“Yeah…”

9S continues down the road for a few paces before he realizes that 2B isn’t next to him. He whips around in a momentary panic to find her staring at the smoking ruins a couple of yards away.

“Why do they do this...What can the demons gain from ravaging defenseless towns.”

“It’s a tactic of theirs…” he responds with venom dripping from his voice, “Force everyone into one place and then…”

“Oh…”

The pair continues in a heavy silence, the destruction around them sobering any kind of light-hearted banter that might have crossed either of their minds. 2B seems to be even more closed off than she was before, her arms crossed over her chest and her gaze cast somewhere off in the distance. 9S assumes that she had never left her home before setting out on her own, and wherever home was must not have been targeted by demons. Or at least not often.

They pass more and more displaced families, each one from a different town. A father from the west mentions that many people from destroyed villages are heading to the sprawling port town of Vigo. According to him, it’s one of the few walled cities still taking refugees. A mother clutching an infant warns them of living shadows that tore her family to pieces as she fled. A boy no older than fifteen grimaces like a veteran soldier as he recounts how he defended his young sister from the horse-like creature that skewered their parents.

2B remains silent through all of this, unnerving what few people bother to pay her any mind. She stares off into the distance from time to time, like an animal that’s heard a sudden loud noise. 9S has to snap her out of her daze by calling her name or tapping her shoulder. She only gives cryptic answers when he asks if something is wrong.

“I don’t know…”

About an hour or so later, 2B transforms and launches into the air. 9S doesn’t pay it any mind at first, but then she soars further into the distance to the point where she’s merely a speck.

“Wh- Hey!!” he shouts.

He knows there’s no hope of catching up to her on foot, but the strange pang in his chest as she flies away from him spurs him forward as fast as he can. Why would she just abandon him like this? There must be something wrong, right? 2B wouldn’t leave him without a word.

But he doesn’t know 2B. Not well enough to quell the anxious churning in his gut.

9S calls out to her again and again in hopes of his voice reaching her, but she’s so far in the distance that he loses hope quickly. His frantic sprint slows to a stop as 2B disappears from view behind the treeline. His new friend, gone from sight without so much as a goodbye.

As he gazes almost mournfully at the sky, he sees the smoke.

Great billowing clouds of black smoke rise above the trees, through which he sees 2B’s white wings soaring. She seems to bank towards him then back around into the smoke, as if she’s beckoning him towards whatever is burning. His legs move on their own, powering him on in her direction.

He shoves his way through forest and underbrush, following the thick black clouds in the sky and the growing roar of a massive fire. A number of forest-dwelling creatures sprint past him in the opposite direction. A horse in full saddle and riding tack bursts out of the foliage, nearly crashing into 9S before galloping away. Blood splatters across the ground from long, heinous claw marks that leave tatters of flesh dangling off the beast’s chest.

The roar of flames is drowned out by what sounds like countless horses screaming, along with the sound of something heavy being thrown against wood. 9S bursts out of the thick woods into a pasture. It might have been an idyllic scene if not for the burning stables just beyond the fences and the great plumes of smoke emerging from the small town behind them.

“2B!” 9S calls out to the white beast soaring above.

She lands nearby, scattering ash into the air with each beat of her wings. In a flash of light, she reverts to her human form, her flat sword already drawn.

“I saw something moving inside the town,” 2B says and motions for 9S to follow.

“There are still people here?!”

“No, something else...It looked like a pack of black wolves.”

Dread coils in 9S’ stomach. He’s read reports from the other scouts about black, wolf-like creatures that appear around great fires along with...something else.

The acrid, stomach-churning smell of burning flesh carried on searing wind nearly makes 9S double over and vomit. It confirms the fear that had been brewing in the back of his mind since seeing the stables, which have gone eerily quiet apart from the crackling of burning wood and bone.

Again, 2B wanders away from him. This time she seems drawn to the largest pillar of smoke rising from the center of town. Instead of pleading with her to stay nearby, 9S decides he’d have better luck simply keeping pace with her. Jogging after a Coatyl with tunnel vision is a more sound plan than getting left behind anyway.

What’s left of the town is nothing but smoldering embers, the fires that consumed most of the buildings seem to have gone out hours ago. 9S lags behind his companion as he sidesteps puddles of drying blood and piles of unmentionable gore. The scene is so violent, so cruel, that there isn’t any doubt in 9S’ mind of what could have caused this.

2B covers her face with the long sleeve of her robe as she searches for any sign of life in the crumbling buildings. She jumps at the slightest movement, each shift in the wood as it disintegrates could be a poor unfortunate crawling their way to freedom. Of course, she finds nothing but ash and embers each time.

They make their way to the center of town, and towards the largest of the pillars of smoke. The closer they get, the roar of a still-raging fire grows louder and louder along with the horrid smell of burning flesh.

What they find at the center of town makes scout and swordswoman alike recoil in horror.

A mass grave, over two hundred bodies large, still burning as if it were just lit. Each body is anonymous, faceless, all features having burnt away hours ago; yet they can make out the shapes of men, women, and children alike.

“Gods…” 9S whispers, bile rising in his throat.

He’s read the reports, heard first-hand accounts of this sort of thing, but they pale in comparison to seeing it for himself. He can’t bring himself to look at the pile for too long. 2B doesn’t seem much better, though she looks less on the verge of collapsing than he does. She just stands there, jaw clenched tight and lips pressed in a thin line. Her fingers curl around the grip of her sword so tightly that her knuckles turn stark white. 9S can even see the slight elevation of the scales on her fingers.

A low droning noise, almost inaudible above the roar of the flames, drags 9S out of his horrified trance. His hand instinctively reaches for the lance secured to his back as something chatters a response.

“2B…” he mutters, drawing his lance, “We have to go.”

She jumps at the sound of a house crumbling under its own weight, drawing her sword as well. The golden inlays on the weapon glisten in the light of the flames each time she turns it in her hands.

The chattering of unknown creatures grows into a cacophonous laughter that seems to surround them. It’s impossible for 9S to discern just how many beasts were closing in on them. At first, he hears just four, then five, then seven, until they all meld together into one. All uniqueness in pitch and cadence fade away into a single dissonant voice. 9S clutches at the side of his head and groans as that horrible noise tears through his mind.

Just when the laughter became near unbearable for him, it stops. Everything stops. If it weren’t for the sound of 2B’s tense breathing, 9S might have thought he had gone deaf. They share a look, a brief confirmation that this wasn’t a strange hallucination and that they’re both in very real danger.

With a quick tap on her arm 9S and 2B break into a sprint in the direction of the pasture and the woods beyond. The rapid footfalls of pursuing monsters close in on them, but neither dare look back at the creatures practically nipping at their heels. They chatter in some beastial language that’s reminiscent of the uncanny laughter of a hyena. Shadows shift and waver in the corner of 9S’ vision, and a particularly large one darts out in front of them.

It stands in front of still burning stables, stopping the pair in their tracks. The pitch black creature, about the size of a wolf, remains unmoving even as 2B and 9S skid to a halt in front of it. It watches them despite having no eyes or any facial features for that matter. Vapors the same void-like color as its skin emit from its “skin”, swaying with its body and giving the beast an ethereal quality as if it were a simple shadow. Behind them five more of the creatures close in, blocking any easy paths out. 2B growls and slashes her sword at one of the creatures that creep too close for comfort, but the beast easily dodges backward and lets out a low hissing sound that makes her skin crawl.

The top of the lone monster’s head unhinges revealing rows and rows of needle-like teeth that point towards the back of its throat. Saliva that sears the ground it lands on dribbles from its maw, any plant life that it comes into contact with begins to wilt instantly. It snaps at the air just in front of 9S, causing him to stumble back into 2B. The beasts close in on their left, snarling and gnashing their jaws.

9S keeps his lance trained on the creature closest to him, his palms growing clammy and tense. He jabs at the beast, which simply shifts its weight to the side. A strange afterimage of itself lingers a half step next to it, which quickly dissipates into black mist. It laughs at him, or at least it seems to, with short wheezing huffs. Each one expels more of that mist that is released by its skin and saliva.

One creature lunges at 2B, who reacts immediately with a powerful downward strike of her sword. The flat blade easily cleaves through the monster’s almost gaseous body, yet the sound of metal meeting “flesh” is just as sickening. The strike separates its head from its neck in a clean-cut, its body falling to the ground near their feet with a wet thud. Thick, black blood pours from the stump of its neck, searing the earth as if it were liquid fire. 2B backs away from the growing pool, pulling 9S with her.

Two more monsters on their left push closer to them, ignoring their fallen pack mate. There’s a momentary break in their formation on the right, large enough to 9S to take advantage of the gap.

“2B!” he shouts, tugging at her sleeve.

She reacts immediately, breaking into a sprint alongside 9S. The creatures follow behind and keep pace beside them. Blackened jaws snap at their legs forcing them to turn back towards the ruined village once again. They might be able to outmaneuver whatever these things are within the burnt out buildings. If they can separate the pack and take them out one at a time, then maybe there’s a chance of victory.

The distance grows between the creatures and the pair, though it doesn’t seem to 9S that they are outrunning them. He chances a look over his shoulder and catches a few of those beasts break off from the pack, leaving only two actively pursuing them. 2B notices this as well and stops dead in her tracks to prepare an attack.

9S stops a few feet away and readies his lance, taking the grounding stance he was taught as soon as he could hold a stick. One beast charges 2B, juking to the side as she strikes at it. 9S rushes while the monster’s back is turned, leaping at the last moment and using the momentum to stab his lance right between its shoulders. It screams as it struggles against both his weight and the lance’s blade holding it down, eventually falling to a pitiful whimper and then silence. 2B kicks the second creature square in the chest as it leaps at her, her powerful legs sending it flying backward. It scrambles to its feet, but it does little to stop the might of 2B’s blade. In one incredible swing, she brings the flat sword down onto its back, splitting its spine in two.

They stand back to back once 9S wrenches his lance free from the monster’s body. The black blood he thought to be acidic slides off of the treated metal that makes up the blade. 2B casts a nervous glance at his weapon and edges herself away, disguising it as simply standing and brandishing her sword at three more demons.

2B is about to attack when the air crackles with energy, making the downy feathers that lie beneath her hair stand on end. She leaps into action, tackling 9S to the ground just as a piercing whistle echoes through the ruined town. Something sails over their heads with an ear-splitting screech and embeds itself in the dirt. 2B only gets a brief look at the glowing yellow oblong shape before it explodes. She covers 9S’ body with hers as hellfire licks at her back, singeing her robes before fading away. As she pulls the young scout to his feet, brushing off his concerns for her, she hears the distant pounding of hooves growing closer and closer. A great looming shadow peeks around the corner of one of the ruined houses as another explosion ignites the dried grass, setting the ground itself ablaze.

She tugs her still disoriented companion away from the rapidly growing flames and away from the heavy hoofbeats of whatever new monster is bearing down on them. 9S stumbles along at first, using his lance to support himself when he feels he is in danger of falling, but it slows them down. A darker part of 2B’s mind urges her to leave him to his fate. He’s a hindrance. If it weren’t for him, she would just be able to take to the skies and escape.

And yet…

He leaps in front of her when the three dog-like demons block their escape route, brandishing his lance with a bravado she didn’t think possible of one so small. There’s a fire in his icy blue eyes that 2B has only a brief look at before a horrific scream rips through the air, and the thunderous beating of hooves comes to a stop behind them.

A creature that appears to be a monstrous horse and rider merged into one towers over the pair. The “horse” part of the creature seems to stare at 2B despite having only sharp-edged plates of metal where any facial features might be. Rows of flat teeth take up most of the head, twisting into a crude smile down to its thick neck. Instead of fur, an off-color leather substance functions as the creature’s skin, and from this skin, the rider is formed like a malignant growth. The humanoid shape is fused to the body of the beast just behind the shoulder, its thighs melding into the beast’s body somewhere above the knee. In one hand it grips a bizarrely shaped pike, and in the other, a yellowish flame flickers between its fingers. That same yellow flame seems to emanate from its abnormally large eyes, the only features on the face of the humanoid growth.

The beast head grinds its teeth, a hideous wet sound accompanied by flecks of spit that escape its maw. A voice similar to the one that assaulted his mind in the cave pierces through 9S’ mind. It grinds and gnashes in his brain, forcing him to double over and clutch his head in a feeble effort to dull the pain. Through the tears forming in the corners of his eyes, he sees 2B stave off one of the black hounds that attempts to attack him in his weakened state.

The voice surges through his blood, “F̛͎͎͎̰̗͍͔̆̎͂̚e̵̯̭̦̗̗̥̺̱͂̑̐̄͘͞͞ͅe̡̖͔̮̬͉͔̤͒͒̄̈́̐͋͘ͅb̦̹̫͉͇͚̦́́͑̄͜͡l̢͎̜͍̭͖͍̼̱̉̒̍̄̓͋̊e̙͕̭̮̟̹̅̽̃̊͒ ắ̴̧̻̳̪̠̹̌̑̄̀b̷̮̻̪͉͗̐̅̅͊͟͟͝o̵̥̻͔̘̻̟̬̍̏̎̚͘͢m̴̞̗̤̮͔̘̦̲̞̝̆̈́̿̉̊̕̕ỉ̵̧̛̠̖̘͙͙͚͆̉̈́͜n̶͉̗͙̫̐̅̉̓̾̍͑ͅa̲͙̙͓͇͈̼̱̯̲̎̔̇̈́͡t̵̨̧͍̫̱̹̣̜̯́̅̀̆̃̃͋̽͝ͅi̵̱͔̭͔̞͔̓̎̑̀̐̃͜ͅo̶̹̞͔̥̥̻̗̦͋͗̿͛́͐́̈́͘n̛̗̤̦͙̘̤͇͚͙̞̐̽͆̄̑͋̕͝.͕̙̰̠͓͔̮̰̥͌̌́̀̔̄̃̒̏͗.”

9S is forcibly pulled from his stupor when 2B shoves him out of the way of another volley of fireballs from the rider. He forces himself to his feet as fast as his aching body will allow to be sure his friend is okay. Luckily, aside from the hem of her robes looking a bit scorched, she appears to be fine. She bares her teeth, sharp and inhuman, and charges with a bellowing roar that matches the monster. The rider swipes at 2B with its twisted pike, while the horse rears up on its hind legs. The pike is easily deflected, but one of the beast’s warped hooves lands an audible blow to her chest. She flies backward and crashes into a pile of scorched wood, sending clouds of ash into the air.

Just as 9S is about to rush to her side, wicked teeth sink into the meat of his calf. One of the black dog creatures had snuck up on him and now tears at the muscles of his leg. He howls yet barely registers the pain. Battle trance, he recalls. Something that his superior officer mentioned long ago. Where soldiers with grievous wounds would continue fighting without pause. What an odd time to be remembering this…

He thrusts the ornate lance forward into the beast’s neck. It screams, eerily similar to his own cries and reels backward. Though his leg burns and bleeds, 9S is more concerned with 2B struggling against the horse demon. He scrambles to his feet and bolts towards her, his breath catching in his throat as she deflects a strike powerful enough to break her stance.

2B stumbles, the repeated strikes and stabs narrowly missing her. 9S shoves her out of the way of the horse head’s teeth the moment he reaches her side, but in his panic, he neglects to realize the demon has two portions. The rider raises its lance, its gnarled blade aimed squarely at his head.

2B’s hand reaches out to him, snagging whatever she can grab. Her fingers curl around his pendant and she yanks as hard as she can.

“No-!”

He staggers forward, but the small chain necklace snaps from the force, coming loose in 2B’s hand. The rider’s spear embeds itself in the ground between them, giving 2B space to take in 9S’ true appearance.

The pendant in 2B’s hand must have some sort of masking spell attached to it. A glamor, if she remembers correctly. Looking at him now it’s painfully obvious what he’s trying to hide. Two horns, barely developed beyond nubs an inch long emerge from his forehead. Black claws tip his fingers, and a thin tail of similar color twitches behind him, ending in a pointed spade. His eyes, wide with terror, are now ringed with pure white irises instead of icy blue, and two fangs peek out from behind his lips. Most damning of all, a small ring of unstable white energy crackles between the two stubby horns on his head. He is, unmistakably, a demon. Or of demonic heritage at least.

One of the hounds bites onto 2B’s arm while she’s distracted, another one tackling her to the ground a moment later. A small pack descends on her, while 9S struggles to fight the horse demon. His leg gives out as he dodges back and forth, crippling his strikes and bringing him dangerously close to the demon’s blade.

2B roars and thrashes against the hounds. Their fangs pierce through the thin scales that appear to be skin, pulling and yanking in different directions. One pulls on her arm, another her leg, and one tear at her shoulder with its clawed feet digging into her chest. She pulls a leg free just long enough to kick the hound on top of her squarely in the chest. The solid and powerful blow sends it flying into 9S, knocking him prone and leaving him vulnerable.

The warped hoof of the horse pins him down, crushing his ribs under its weight while the rider raises its pike. 9S tries to scream and fight, to do something but all he can do is wheeze and beat his fist feebly against the beast’s leg.

He locks eyes with the rider as the pike comes down on his head-

“Hey, shithorse! Over here!”

Suddenly, there’s a flash of movement and a deafening explosion engulfs the rider’s head the moment a black blur slams into its face. 9S’ hands fly up to shield his face from the rain of viscera, but a familiar string of profanities and the sight of oily black hair makes his heart soar.

“Jackass?!”

The grungy officer flashes her signature toothy smirk at him while a bellowing scream from the horse demon drowns out whatever quip she fires his way. A handful of lightly armored soldiers charge forward in a simple formation, scattering the remaining hound demons in various directions. One is unfortunate enough to pass to close to the now unbound horse demon, which effortlessly snaps up the lesser creature in its powerful jaws and gulps it down in only a couple bites.

“On your feet kiddo!” Jackass shouts as she hoists 9S up by his arm, “You ain’t out of this mess yet!”

Sure enough, the horse demon throws a devastating kick with its hind legs to the troops. They break formation, attempting to confuse the creature with staggered attacks to draw its attention away from a single person. Jackass strikes her large black hammer against the ground, the force pulling back a lever like contraption that ignites the furnace built within. The creature snarls as it turns its massive head to face the lieutenant, an incoherent message of screams and vulgarities forcing its way into 9S’ head.

“You’re a talkative beastie, ain’t ya.” Jackass replies, seemingly unfazed by those unholy sounds.

The air around 9S crackles with energy as Jackass charges at the horse demon, her flaming hammer leaving a trail of smoke and embers. But just as she is about to strike, a shrill roar followed by a rush of wind stops the lieutenant dead in her tracks. 2B, now in her natural form, rakes at the horse with her talons, her wings beating furiously to keep balance. She flays the beast’s back as it wails and attempts to throw her off balance. It throws its head back trying to catch any part of 2B in its uncanny jaws, yet she remains just out of its reach.

Jackass and the other soldiers remain poised, ready to strike if either beast draws too close. She commands them to stay on guard and opts to let this newcomer do their work for them. A soldier yelps as 2B hoists both herself and the demon into the air for a moment, then slams it onto the ground with a sickening crunch. Its piercing screams are cut short when the dragoness clamps her beak around its throat and thrashes her head back and forth until the head is ripped from its neck. Even 9S backs away from his companion as she roars, standing tall above the corpse. Blood splashes onto the ground, though it’s unclear if its origin is demonic or dragonic.

The soldiers glance between Jackass and the bloodstained Coatyl hissing at anyone who dares get too close. One swipes at her beak with their sword which only aggravates 2B further.

“Stop! Wait!” 9S shouts as he limps past Jackass and the squadron to stand in front of his companion, “She’s with….me!” He coughs and sputters between his words, clutching his bruised chest.

Jackass cocks an eyebrow but lowers her hammer regardless, “...Friend of yours?”

“We’ve….been traveling together for a while, she won’t hurt anyone.” he shoots a glare back at 2B who responds with an indignant huff.

The lieutenant motions for the soldiers to stand down and sheath their weapons, which they do with some hesitation. Once the danger to her has passed, 2B returns to her human state much to the surprise of Jackass and the soldiers.

She shifts her gaze between 9S and these strangers in uniform.

“...My name is 2B.” she says after wiping away the blood that lingered on her face.

“Jackass.”

“Excuse me?!”

“That's...that's just what we call her,” 9S mutters to 2B, noticing her tense stance.

Jackass holds her hand out to 2B with a lazy smile, “Thanks for the help.”

2B, having learned a little from her time with 9S, meets the officer with a sturdy yet awkward handshake.

With pleasantries out of the way, Jackass goes over details of his recent scouting exploits. Now that the danger had passed, the pain takes its toll on 9S, forcing him to sit on a stray log and nurse his leg. The other soldiers break off to hunt down the remaining hounds and comb the area for any survivors. 2B settles down nearby to tend to her wounds herself, shooing away any well-meaning soldiers offering to help. She licks at the gashes on her arms to stimulate her body’s natural healing properties and within moments the punctures begin to knit back together.

With her injuries healing nicely, 2B takes the time to meander around the ruined village while she waits for 9S to finish talking to his superior. She stops in her tracks when a piece of jewelry catches her eye as it glints in the sunlight. The pendant that she accidentally tore from 9S… She turns the simple necklace in her hands, running her thumb over the dull red jewel. It’s nothing special, just silver and an uncut piece of garnet, but there’s a subtle but unmistakable magical energy to it, indicating its true value.

For the first time since meeting him, 2B feels uncertainty towards 9S. He had kept this part of himself, this potentially dangerous part of himself from her. There’s a part of her that feels she should kill him before he kills her before she’s lulled further into the false sense of security that would be her downfall.

And yet…

She watches as 9S talks with Jackass. Not much about his demeanor has changed aside from the formal speech of a trained soldier, even while wrapping a crude bandage around his calf and trying to steady his breathing. The only new thing she notices is how his thin tail curls and uncurls itself from around his undamaged leg. He’s still the same person, and if he wanted to kill her there were much better opportunities to do so in the past. Her fist curls around the pendant as she approaches 9S the moment Jackass dismisses him.

There’s fear on his face. His eyes, now almost pure white aside from his pupils and the faint flecks of blue, dart around as if they’re searching her neutral expression. She can hear his heart thundering in his chest, and his tail flicks back and forth in a manner reminiscent of an agitated feline.

No words pass between them as 2B holds the pendant out to him.

#nier automata #2B #9S #Nier Jackass #fanfic #Tanks fics

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wadjaya · 4 years

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Elizah Krance

Age: 24

Gender: Female

Height: 5′10″ Weight: 160lbs

Known Associates: Luis Zerkin, Free, Bedlam Rancor, Naunet Mesi, Lucien

Occupation: Hunter, Tracker, Beast Exterminator, Mercenary

Hometown: Boston, Massachusetts

Magic: TBD, was fiddling with a sort of x-ray vision related to pulses of energy not unlike khuda’s ‘6th sense’

The East Coast of the United States has always been relatively famous for its manufacturing industry, particularly as the massive cities of the world ravaged by the Evovirus a generation or two prior. Elizah grew up in Boston, a city hurting for labor as manufacturing business boomed following the deaths of tens of millions of people, economic bumps which have yet to be ridden out.

With the Federal Government’s reach weakened after the pandemic, and the overwhelming power of corporate wealth next to state and municipal governments, many cities became infamous for overwhelming working conditions and hours- some even going so far as to hire child labor without so much as batting an eye.

Elizah, as was true of her parents at her age, entered the workforce very young. At thirteen, she began to ‘enjoy’ gainful employment at the insulting wage of $4 an hour. With no benefits and hardly any free time, Elizah sought to master her role- dexterously placing and tightening screws or cases onto a number of ‘item of the month’ sorts of baubles and junk her bosses had set her to at that time.

In her free time, particularly as adolescence began to change her in the many ways it does, Elizah found herself fighting with her family at home and running off to the few strongholds of greenery nearby. Franklin Park was only a block or so from her home, but it was an interesting locale. Largely empty- who the hell had free time to spend admiring nature- but populated here and there by strange creatures which had escaped the small zoo here decades prior.

Wild though they were, most did not mind the presence of a lone human. Often, the smaller wildlife would congregate around people such as herself in the hopes of dropped food finding them, or to protect from hawks and eagles which circled the sky from time to time.

She liked it here. It was peaceful, the greens and browns of the woods inviting Elizah more than home ever seemed to. But when she explored every inch of this place, she longed for more.

After a particularly grueling day of work at the Amazing Factory of Boston(yep, they had a tax break before they built it), Elizah found her call to adventure with a flyer hastily taped onto a light post on the street corner near her house.

“Montu Academy- Make your own adventure!

Never fear a dead-end job again! Join a respected position among the armed forces! Learn a trade, or study for a career!”

So at 16, and with continued rebellion at home, Elizah convinced her parents that they’d be better off sending her to this controversial foundation.

In those five years of torture, Elizah was assigned to Team ERENT as leader, a position she readily accepted with pride. The group did good work for a time, performing decently in the studious aspect(their grade average was not exactly carried by the leader) but shining in their fieldwork. ERENT was something of a local legend in a number of locales, becoming known for hunting and slaying beasts which had kept entire cities under their metaphorical thumbs for decades.

Elizah, in particular, learned about the natural world. She began to understand the way organisms are typically built- and how the Evovirus has changed a large number of them. She particularly enjoyed her time studying alongside an upperclassmen- Naunet Mesi. While her person-ability was lacking, Naunet helped Elizah to understand so many basic ideas behind the structure of organisms and especially the beasts which were changed so drastically by the virus.

Eventually, Elizah made a bad call. In dealing with a pack of massive wolves- crossed with perhaps some kind of reptile- near Florida’s northern border, much of her team was picked off one by one.

She didn’t ever really understand why, but the beasts left her alone. Perhaps they grew to respect the only one who managed to fight them off for a time.

Montu, particularly the student body, treated Elizah unusually kindly after the loss of her team. While the staff was as harsh as ever, there were a few that seemed to cut her a break.

So Elizah felt bad when she discovered that a prank she pulled with one Bedlam Rancor- another upperclassmen set to graduate- went horribly awry.

After the graduation riot, Elizah spent a lot of time in northern Florida. She honed her hunting skills as she- one by one- hunted the beasts which took her team from her. It was odd- these creatures, as she hunted them, seemed to be extremely intelligent. Human-like.

So it wasn’t surprising when the biggest, meanest wolf of the group seemed to challenge her to a duel. The two shared an honorable exchange in single combat.

She took his jaw, and had one of her contacts in Chicago create a beautiful dagger from it. He threw in a little extra for her and reinforced the tool with unusual materials and the placement of strong metal support frameworks. Lucien- the silent Master craftsman and rising star his chapter of the local mob- hooked her up, and she would make great use of this weapon for years to come.

#therabloggin #elizah krance #evoearth #characters #character outline #elizah

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goingknowherewastaken · 7 years

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Among The Trees, The Fallen Rise Again || Part Two

Title: Among The Trees, The Fallen Rise Again

Fandom: Star Trek with a small dash of Pete’s Dragon

Relationship: McKirk || Jim x Bones

Warnings: n/a

A/N: Here’s Part Two! And we are finally introducing Jim! This and the next few parts will focus on Jim. I debated on combining them all together, but it would have gotten a little to long for posting on here :p

This is apart of a series! You can read the previous parts here: Part One |

Among The Trees, The Fallen Rise Again || Part Two

WELCOME TO MILLHAVEN POPULATION 770

“770 people,” the weary blond read as he rolled into the tiny forest town.

Good enough.

He stopped at the first, and seemingly only, stoplight in the town and squinted down the street. He could see the signs for several small businesses on the main drag, but the one with the most appeal was the one declaring 'Millhaven Motel'.

He slowly drove further along and pulled into the small parking lot, joining the five other vehicles already there. The Millhaven Motel fit the motel stereotype to a 'T'. It was a small, low, 'U' shaped building encompassing it's parking lot. On it's exterior, ten numbered doors were inset equally around the walls while an eleventh one – placed at the very end on his left – was marked with the sign 'Reception Office'.

The tan building was no Ritz or Hyatt, but it would work.

Grabbing his overstuffed, leather duffel bag and – thankfully – dead phone from where he threw it into the back seat, he shuffled down to the Reception Office. The chiller evening air bit through his white t-shirt and jeans and he made a mental note to purchase a jacket while he was here. A strand of bells jingled as he swung the door opened and entered the cramped room. A handful of chairs were lined against the wall to his left and a long desk sat in front of the wall on his left. Another door opposite the entryway displayed an 'Employee's Only' sign.

All-in-all, the whole place could be described as '50 Shades of Beige'.

He reached out and tapped the silver bell sitting on the desk and dropped his bag on the ground. He didn't have to wait long for the back door to open and reveal a short, blonde woman -

- platinum blonde hair, as soft as silk between his fingers -

He blinked and took in a short breath at the intruding memory, before rubbing at his eyes and pushing the thoughts away.

She gave him a soft smile as she went around the desk, unaware of his inner turmoil.

“Evening!” she greeted. “I'm Janice, I help run the motel.” She took a seat and pulled over a guest book. “I'm guessing you're interested in a room?”

“Uh, yes ma'am. Just for a few days.”

She raised an elegant eyebrow at him. “Alright, we have six vacancies at the moment. Each room comes with a queen sized bed, a kitchenette, small bathroom, and Wi-Fi. Although, our location may cause your Internet access to be slow. We charge $100 a night.”

“Okay, sounds good.” She could have said the room was $5,000 a night and he still would have accepted it. Anything to sleep and get a rest from the hell his mind was keeping at bay.

Janice passed over a clipboard and pen. “Excellent! You have a few papers to sign, Mr...,” she trailed off waiting for him to introduce himself.

He scratched at his short beard. Maybe he should grow it out more? “Oh, ah, James K-- Tiberius. James Tiberius.” She didn't seem to have noticed his near slip-up as she copied down his name and for that he was grateful.

The next few minutes passed quickly as Jim signed the forms and handed over three hundreds. He accepted the key and bid her 'good-night' before heading down to Room 5.

The room certainly looked clean, but, at the moment, Jim didn't care. Once he locked the door behind him and tossed his bag on the floor, he walked over and collapsed onto the bed – forgoing the decision to change.

After driving for nearly 24 hours, taking back road after back road with only a handful of pit stops, all he wanted to do was sleep.

He could worry about everything else in the morning.

☼

Morning came all too soon for the exhausted blond and Jim squinted angrily at the overly bright sunlight streaming in though the open blinds and curtains.

He sort of regretted not closing those before falling asleep.

The clock on the nightstand read 8:20 A.M. as he drug himself off the bed and stumbled to the bathroom, his ten minute shower doing wonders for his alertness. After drying off and dressing in a green, cashmere sweater and dark-wash jeans, he looked over his current accommodations.

The room was small – the bed taking up most of the space – and the attached bathroom wasn't any better. He had two nightstands and lamps, a low dresser with a decent sized TV sat opposite the bed, and a table and two chairs sat in front of the wide window. None of which seemed to be bolted down so Jim considered that a plus; not that he planned on stealing anything.

He missed their home – HIS home he thought bitterly. One he couldn't go back to. A wave of anger surged through him and it took several deep breaths to shove it back down.

He focused instead on checking the floor under the bed and a looking under the mattress, after which he had to admit that Nyota would have approved.

Shit! Nyota.

Jim groaned and rummaged through his bag for his charger. He plugged in his phone and set it back down on the nightstand. He didn't really want to talk to anyone right now, but after several days of silence on his end – his stomach soured again at the memories – he supposed he should call her at some point today. Not right now, though.

Now he needed to get food and figure out what the hell he was doing.

There were several business cards and takeout menus for local Millhaven restaurants and his decision was made pretty fast seeing as only one of them was open this early.

☼

Located in a brick building just down from the motel, Yorktown was probably the most modern business in town. On the interior, at least. The quaint restaurant reminded Jim of the ones he ate at in the big cities; with shiny black tables and matching chairs, black and white photos of NYC architecture, and dozens of plants growing everywhere.

Hipsters would kill to eat at a place like this.

Pulling off his sunglasses, Jim heeded the 'Seat Yourself' sign and picked out a table towards the back of the dinning space. Not that it mattered, the only other diners were three elderly couples who appeared to be having their regular Tuesday breakfast meet-up. Quickly spotting the most private – and most open – seats in a restaurant had become second nature to him over the years.

Jim ran a hand over his jaw, still unnerved at the feeling of rough hair there. He couldn't recall a time where his jaw was covered in anything more than a five o'clock. Leaving it grow would definitely benefit him now, but – even if he had been clean shaven – he highly doubted these people would have recognized him. On the other hand, there was no telling if they had been keeping an eye on the media lately.

“Good morning! Welcome to Yorktown!”

Jim's attention snapped back into focus as a young kid laid down a plastic menu in front of him and pulled out a notepad. With a kind face and curly blond hair, Jim guessed he was in his twenties, if not a little younger. “Can I get you anything to drink while you look over the menu?” His words revealed a Russian accent.

“Uh, coffee, please. Black. Regular.”

The guy nodded left to grab a pot of coffee and a cup. Once it was poured, the guy stepped back and gave Jim an assessing once-over. “You're new to this area.”

“Yeah, I just got in last night.” Dread started to pool in his stomach. Not now.

“Sorry, it's just that, I know we haven't met before, but you look really familiar?” His head tilted in thought, a few curls shifting over his eyes.

Shit.

Jim shrugged and tried to play it off. “Eh, it's not the first time someone's told me that. Seems I have one of those faces, ya know?” He ended with small laugh. “But, you're right. I'm not from around here. I live in the city and I needed to get away. Thinking about trying the small town life. James Tiberius, but most people call me Jim.” At the realization of what he said, Jim blinked.

He planned on getting away from L.A.; since when was he considering not going back?

The kid laughed, cutting through his revelation, and the knot that was forming inside of him started to dissipate. “Yeah, that happens. Oh, I'm Pavel Chekov, by the way. Wish I lived in the city. Don't get me wrong, it's nice here, but it gets boring. Hopefully I won't be here too much longer.”

“Oh?”

He gave an enthusiastic nod, his curls bouncing with the movement. It seems that Jim found a good topic. “Da! I hope to be an actor someday; theater, big screen, I don't care. I'm trying to save up enough money to move down to L.A.”

Christ Almighty! If he got through this...

He picked up his coffee and took a sip before saying, “Acting? Wow! That's a tough business to break out in.”

Pavel shrugged, sloshing the coffee around in the pot, but Jim felt that nothing could dull this kid's cheery disposition. “True, but I think it will be worth it in the end. Well, Jim, I'll give you a few moments to figure out what you want,” he said with another smile before heading over to check on the other patrons.”

The hour that Jim spent at Yorktown turned out to be time well spent in the end. He got the best breakfast platter of pancakes, eggs, bacon, and toast, and Pavel told him all about the area.

From the time of it's founding to the modern day, Millhaven was a logging town. So much so that every resident has either worked for Enterprise – the local logging and milling company – or has a family member who has. They used to go all over, felling trees and causing a stir in the local wildlife conservation community. That all changed five years ago when the old owners got ousted – due to skimming money and dumping waste – and gained new owners who wished to be more eco friendly. These days they worked in tandem with the DNR and local park services.

“My family moved here from Russia when I was a baby. They wanted a new start and felt the small town was the perfect place for it,” Pavel admitted as Jim worked his way through the stack of syrup soaked pancakes. “When I got older, I joined my Papa at the mill, but it just wasn't for me.”

Instead he had gotten a job here, at a newly opened Yorktown. The owner, a Miriam Paris, was a local who had moved to New York when she got married, but returned after the death of her husband. The restaurant was started in his memory, a dream of theirs that always got shoved to the side.

“Her husband would be pleased,” was Jim's response.

It was proof, all proof, that the small town was thriving. The logging, the restaurant, the new greenhouse, and all the people gravitating to the town was proof that there was something here to be found. In L.A., there was something as well, but it was all a jumbled mess. It was smothering; everything and everyone piled on top of each other in the heavy city air and harsh memories.

Here, Jim felt like he was breathing for the first time. Originally, he had planned to just stay a few days; plot out his next move and become a modern day nomad for a while. The more Pavel talked about Millhaven, the more Jim's intrigue grew. Maybe his subconscious was onto something.

“There's new apartment buildings?” Jim pushed his plate to the side and leaned forward onto the table.

“Da,” Pavel chirped. “Just west of here on the edge of town. They aren't big buildings; they only house four apartments each, but there are two buildings done and third is nearing completion. Of course there's also two old brick buildings in town that have been converted into apartment buildings. I believe there are still a few openings.”

An idea began to form in his head. “I think I might look into those. Do you know who I should contact?”

“Da!” He dashed over to the counter and scribbled something down on a piece of paper before darting back and handing over the page. “Here! He does the real estate for the county, but his office is just around the corner. The apartments in town belong to the building owners.” He pointed to the names.

He read over the numbers and slipped it in his pocket. “I'll definitely look into those. Thanks,” he said with an easy smile.

The kid glanced down and shrugged. “Don't mention it. You need the help and I was happy to give it.”

Jim asked about a few other places in town before handing over cash to pay for his meal. When Pavel went to attend to some new customers, Jim left a ten on the table for him before waving good-bye to the kid.

☼

The only thought running through his mind was 'nap', but Jim's day was far from done as he wrestled his bags of goodies through his room door. He decided to forgo seeing the realtor today – although he did call and make an appointment for tomorrow, but snack and warm clothes shopping was a necessity.

As was finally calling Nyota.

He dumped the bags on the floor and unplugged his phone. Flopping down on the bed, he ignored the 30 missed messages and tapped on his agent's name.

She answered on the first ring.

“JAMES TIBERIUS KIRK WHAT THE HELL!!!!”

Wincing, he ripped the phone away from his ear.

“First of all: ow! You don't have to yell!”

“I don't have to yell??? I DON'T HAVE TO YELL???? JIM, NO ONE'S HEARD FROM YOU IN DAYS!! PEOPLE ARE THINKING YOU'RE DEAD!! I HAVE EVERY RIGHT TO YELL RIGHT NOW!”

“Well, you're talking to me now so can we cut the yelling??”

“...Will you promise to not go radio silent on us again,” she snipped.

Jim sighed. “Yeah. Yeah, I promise.”

“Good. I'm holding you to that. Now, what the hell, Jim?”

He threw an arm over his eyes and squeezed them shut as tight as he could, the dance of colors a good block from memories. “You saw the news, the photos. You know what happened.” He paused for a few moments, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Do they really think I died?”

Her sigh sounded through the phone. “I did. And that's the media, Jim. You know how they are.”

“Yeah.” He knew better than most.

“Which is why I want to hear your story.”

And this was what he was trying to avoid.

“I know...”

“...And??”

“I've – uh – been trying not to think about it.”

“...Do Spock and I need to come over and help you process it?”

He squirmed on the bed.

“Umm, about that...”

“Jim...” Her voice took on a dangerous edge. “What did you do?”

“I'm...ya know...sort of...not in L.A.”

“Where 'not in L.A.' are you?”

“If I tell you are you going to track me down and drag me back to that shitty city with it's shitty people?”

“Jim...”

“Then, no, I'm not going to tell you.”

“Jiiim!”

“Nyyyy!”

“Jim, be serious.”

“I am serious, Ny!” He pinched the bridge of his nose again. “I...I need some time and I can't get that there.” The 'where they are' was left out, but they both new it was implied.

“So you just ran?”

He sat up on the bed. Is she serious right now? “No! I didn't just run! I spent FOUR DAYS in hell after I had that SHIT dumped on me! Four days, Nyota! And do you know the real kicker?”

Oh, the flood gates had opened.

And there was no dam for the tidal wave.

“I found out from a fucking pap who cornered me outside a Trader Joes!”

She gasped. “No!”

“Oooooh, yes!” He clenched his fist to stop the shaking. The photos re-burning themselves into his eyelids. “And then it was everywhere no matter where the fuck I was.”

“Shit, Jim. I'm sorry.”

He flopped back and pressed his fist into his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut. “Yeah. So, I left. I packed a bag, rented a car, and drove until I got to this tiny-ass town in the middle of nowhere.”

“Has it helped?”

“I don't know; I haven't given myself a chance to really think about it.” At least, not willingly.

Nyota was silent for a moment. “Do you think it will help?”

He let his arm drop back to the bed and stared up at the white ceiling. “I don't know.”

She gave another sigh. “Do you promise not to let this drag on?”

“I won't let that happen.” Maybe. Delaying it sounds very nice.

“Good. Then just keep us updated.”

In that case..

“...Then I guess I should tell you that I'm gonna get a place here.”

“JIM!”

...to be continued

Part Three

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starlaquintero8-blog · 6 years

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daimonic-clown · 7 years

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Deafening Silence

The surrounding area stirred ever so slightly. But not as it usually had. It was not silent, but it might as well have been. Stones were laid out, marked with a language few knew. Three orcish figures surrounded the open spaces between the stones, hands raised, palms glowing a dim green.

The land was dry and unforgiving to those who were not themselves hardened to handle it. But the stones, they stood out among the dryness of the other rocks -- they were grey. Shamans often came here to commune with the spirit of earth; one of two elements that often at least humored mortal interaction. Fire and air were not always as kind.

Something was wrong, and Bokrug knew it. Often he spent his mornings meditating among these stones, but for weeks now, they were silent. He often received news from the world at this stones, but instead the herald in Orgrimmar had been the deliverer of good news concerning the death of the Lich King.

Shamans around the world tried to stay optimistic. Though it started to become a confusing dilemma. The elements cried out in a mixture of terrifying displays: fear, agony, restlessness, and anger.

The three shamans -- Bokrug included -- quietly spoke in kalimag. They hid the desperation to their tone. They wanted anything, even a whispering of the situation they were about to face. But as they continued speaking, all in unison, as loud as they could manage and keep the focus of their channeling, the world trembled violently and sent them all to the ground.

They all stopped speaking, except for Bokrug. The stones started to dig themselves out of the ground, and fall all around them. Bokrug kept his focus as best he could manage, but a stone was about to topple down onto him, and so a shaman pulled him away, and his focus was broken.

The world still trembled with a fury unmatched. Was the earth itself angry at their incessant chatter? The stones all fell, and the quaking became so violent the shamans could have sworn they heard the ground ripple and break hundreds of miles over; they thought they had heard the mountains itself shift and erupt. But that was only in one direction.

In the other, it was not far different. The waters, too, boiled with something untapped in so long. The elements were more than stirred, they were breaking unseen chains, unsuccessfully even.

The shamans did all they could now do. They huddled up, and continued to listen. Though they could hear now was screaming: it was not in kalimag, it was a scream that required no comprehension of language. The land was being destroyed.

"Come on, keep up! How can you be expected to hold your own if you cannot press the assault?" Bokrug swung his fists, seemingly randomly, though there was a method to his ferocity.

"I... I..." His student fell to the floor, incapable of attacking or defending against his teacher. "They... They aren't listening!"

The young orc's teacher scoffed. "You cannot always have the elements to fight your fights." He stepped forward and offered a hand to his student, then yanked him upwards. After his student had regained his composure, he found a seat on a mat in the tent. Bokrug moved to drink from his cup of water, then had noticed something strange.

Three armored men. They were clearly shamans from the adorning qualities of their armor, but the strangest part was the mixture of races. A dwarf, a tauren, and a troll. Usually orcs approached his tent in a rural part of Durotar to hear what guidance the elements provided, or to receive his teachings.

Dire times were ahead, though. Even a dwarf was allowed here if only to speak with another shaman. Bokrug stepped out from his tent and crossed his arms at the entrance.

"Hmph," he simply grunted out, eyeing the dwarf with some scrutiny.

"So you were here, some told us you may have been at the ceremonial stones nearby." The tauren spoke, glancing in the direction of the latter. His gaze lightened to being more solemn.

"We saw the... unfortunate aftermath, lad," the dwarf continued.

Bokrug simply nodded. "Unfortunate indeed, but you're not here to talk about the state of some stones. What does the Earthen Ring need?"

"Quick, this one, he already be knowin'," the troll said, laughing quietly, "important things," he then concluded.

Bokrug brushed his hands off, then shrugged. He could barely hide that he was brimming with curiosity -- if any organization had a chance of figuring out what was going wrong, and solving it, it would be the Earthen Ring. And they wanted him to help with the campaign.

"We'll take that as interest," the tauren said with a smile. "May we come inside? We should begin discussions immediately, that way you can begin with what we had in mind right away."

Bokrug stepped to the side and let the trio pass into his tent. He looked in the direction of where his ceremonial stones were planted, closed his eyes, then breathed in deeply. Some words were whispered in kalimag.

He received no answer.

Frantic feet trotted along the wood that made up Booty Bay. Ship routes were an urgent need, and many sailors and merchants alike were all hoping the goblins who ran the seaside city had even the slightest clue the flow of storms and waters heading to Ratchet or Gadgetzan.

Weary sighs were had when they were told of the futility of such a request, and further, that Gadgetzan had nearly been destroyed, and ship travel there was to be redirected to... Thousand Needles?

"The... you mean the goblin settlement in the mountainous region? How do I sail through mountains?"

"It's a barge in the middle of the ocean, pal. Thousand Needles is more like a couple of spires and a whole load of sea water. Swish, you can sail right in there."

Bokrug heard the goblin explain with a shake of his head. Such a simple explanation. Among the frantic steps of sea-faring sorts, Bokrug's heavy feet, armored now, moved with uncertainty.

The elements were still silent. Even water, too, refused to commune even the slightest fraction of information. But this is where he was sent: the Eastern Kingdoms, Stranglethorn. Booty Bay suffered a hard hit, along with the jungles outside of the active city. The wildlife was displaced, but worse yet, the hostiles denizens (mainly Bloodsail pirates) were displaced, too, and closer than ever to the city.

Bokrug had to juggle wild animals, pirates, and even naga. Even with all that managed well, he still could not gain his bearings. He was feeling hopeless.

He settled into a room at the local tavern and sat at a desk. An empty paper was before him, as well as an ink and quill. He had nothing to report. And he would not insult the elders of the Earthen Ring by reporting that he had nothing. He could not even mend the land, for that, too, required communication with the elements.

Perhaps it was a mistake that he accepted this task, he figured with a sad expression. He stepped out of his room and decided to wander the city, eyes fixated on the ruined statue in the distance -- it had been ripped down by a massive tide.

He wandered and wandered. An optimistic half of him had hoped the elements would suddenly call to him, somewhere he had not expected.

But all he had heard in the end was the chatter of merchants and those trying to piece together the quakes and chaos. He was as informed as any of them, practically.

His wandering became aimless and meditative. That was, until he stopped to look to the sea. Under his breath, he pleaded in kalimag.

"Come to me, anything."

He was met with silence.

#wow #writing #rp #bokrug #oc

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hottytoddynews · 7 years

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At home in Zimbabwe, Waters nurtures beneficial relations between wildlife and people.

*This story was republished with permission by The Meek School Magazine.

Rob Waters (’84) loves cherry pie. He said he ate plenty during his year at Ole Miss and hasn’t had any to match since. He says the cherries in his native Zimbabwe just aren’t the same.

Waters is a slender man with thin-rimmed glasses, a baseball cap, and a love for his homeland. He remains even-tempered at all times, barely speaking above the volume of a whisper, but when he does speak he draws people in. He grew up surrounded by nature, and although he likes to leave every so often, he always returns home.

Waters, 54, graduated from the University of Zimbabwe in 1983 with an English degree. During his final year as an undergrad, he began looking toward the future. He knew he didn’t want to be a teacher, and so he pondered other options.

“What do you do with an English degree if you’re not going to teach? I obviously thought about journalism,” Waters said. “It uses my love of English and I would be able to write creatively.”

He took pen to paper and wrote letters to universities across the world, including England, Canada and a “heap” in the United States.

“America in that stage was way ahead of the rest of the world in terms of formal academic training in journalism,” Waters explained.

Ole Miss was the first to respond to Waters’ letter with a financial offer. He said that was the key to his travel to the U.S.

As an English major, Waters had read all of William Faulkner’s novels. Before arriving in Oxford, home of the Nobel Prize-winning author, he already had a complete picture painted in his head. And when he arrived, every detail came to life.

Waters said he loved Southern culture — the food, the land, the literary tradition and the architecture. The typical culture shock that strikes anyone visiting Oxford who didn’t grow up in Mississippi, especially involving race relations, never hit Waters. He said he chose to take on the role of an observer during his 1983-84 academic year in Mississippi.

“I didn’t really judge it at all. I didn’t think, ‘Is it good? Is it bad? Have they moved forward from 100 years ago? Are they moving backwards?’”

To him, Zimbabwe and Mississippi aren’t that different. The African nation, formerly Rhodesia, bore the name of British empire-builder Cecil Rhodes until 1979 and the indigenous blacks were regarded as a servant class, much as African-Americans were in the United States until changes began with the civil rights movement.

“If I had come from Britain, I might have found it a bit heavy,” Waters said. “But coming from Africa, I was already well-versed in all of the racial interaction issues and how we deal with each other as races. Some good, some bad.”

As it has emerged, Zimbabwe has had periods of great progress as well as great turmoil.

The combination of growing up in a country with racial tensions and reading heavily in Faulkner made everything click in Waters’s mind.

“In some ways, and I can’t be specific here, but the gut feel is that the Deep South was ahead of Rhodesia/Zimbabwe; Zimbabwe/Rhodesia was in those days and in some ways actually behind,” Waters reflected. “There’s always this (situation of) how the races are dealing with each other and dealing with the challenges they give each other, and the opportunities they deny each other just by their numbers.”

Waters added that if he had enrolled in a college in New York or Los Angeles it might’ve made him crazy, but to be in America, Mississippi was the right fit.

After a few introductory journalism courses to gain basic skills and hours upon hours dedicated to graduate classes, Waters graduated from Ole Miss with a master’s degree in journalism. And he faced the same issue he had faced just a couple of years before: He had a new degree, yet not the faintest idea of what to do with it.

Waters, right, talks with Assistant Professor Mikki Harris as the moon rises behind a termite mound in Hwange National Park, Zimbabwe. Harris led students on a photo expedition to explore the relationships between the people of the region and the abundant wildlife.

Journalism as a career path would have been denied to Waters in Zimbabwe for multiple reasons, including the difference between the free-press American journalism he had studied at Ole Miss and the closely watched, government-owned media in Zimbabwe. Even though he was uncertain about everything else, he knew one thing for sure. He knew he wanted to go home.

“I already knew nearly 100 percent that I wanted to spend my life (in Zimbabwe),” Waters said. “It was my home and it’s still my home. I still completely feel the same way. This is a place where I hope to spread my ashes or bury my bones, whatever the case may be.”

After touring through Britain and passing through Australia as pit stops, Waters returned to Zimbabwe, a landlocked country in the southeast portion of Africa. He applied for jobs and was even short-listed for one in commerce. It was a good job, but it wasn’t what he wanted to do the rest of his life.

Fate lent a hand and Waters stumbled across an advertisement in a local newspaper. A young safari guide was needed, and no experience was necessary.

Waters fit the bill perfectly.

Waters introduces Ole Miss students to Johnson Ncube, center, head man of the village, and his wife, Dorothy. They explained local culture as well as the relationship of the 1,000 subsistence farmers and their families with the wild animals in an adjacent national park in central Zimbabwe.

“I applied and was given a job, so my first salary-paid job was actually as a safari guide. Hallelujah,” Waters said. “What a privilege it was to be a guide and to be out in the bush, as we call it. I was outdoors and enjoying my life.”

The job was in Hwange National Park, where he still spends a lot of time. He learned mostly from on-the-job training and interacting with the other guides, especially his boss. He went to work wanting to learn more and absorbed everything he could.

Waters has always been fascinated with wildlife; it’s a huge part of who he is.

Born in Bulawayo but raised and educated in Salisbury, the capital of Rhodesia — now known as Harare, capital of Zimbabwe — Waters’s home was in a rural, scenic area. He was coming of age at the end of an era in his country, but is conscious that he had a privileged childhood and upbringing.

Waters, left, relaxes with the manager of Camelthorn, one of several Imvelo Safari Lodges. Waters is an executive for the company that promotes tourism as as tool to protect wildlife and help the people in his homeland, Zimbabwe. The resort is named for the giant camelthorn tree in the photo.

Waters lights up when he talks about his childhood, especially in school. School was where the teachers cared about him and were heavily involved with the students, “filling their lives up with opportunities indoors and outdoors.”

Indoors, Waters was a writer with a talent in English, but outdoors he was a wildlife guide in training.

As soon as he was old enough, he read all sorts of wildlife magazines and shared a pastime of reading books about birds or trees or flowers with his mother.

Days at Imvelo Safari Lodges begin and end at the fire pit, with tea and conversation.

“It’s something that’s in your system,” Waters said. “I think growing up in that outdoorsy, rural environment sparked something in me.”

The spark is still burning after more than a decade in non-hunting safari operations, although he is careful to point out that ethical hunting camps are important to wildlife management and preservation, too. Waters has also had work experience in hotel management, as an inbound tour operator, and in venues of public relations and journalism.

Now he is the operations and projects manager for Imvelo Safari Lodges. Imvelo’s slogan is “connecting people with nature” and aims to boost tourism in Zimbabwe through photographic safaris. Several of its small, luxury lodges are in Hwange, where animals roam free and hunting is forbidden.

Waters believes the development of tourism is critical to the survival of wild areas. He said the tourism industry in Zimbabwe hit a major peak in the late 1990s after Nelson Mandela came to power in next-door South Africa, attracting international visitors. He hopes Zimbabwe tourism will grow and expand once more.

Waters joins Ole Miss students on a photo safari in Hwange National Park, where he was once a guide.

“It’s a hard sale to sell Zimbabwe in America right now, but it’s not as bad as it used to be,” Waters said. “Attitudes are changing and we really are in an interesting situation right now where the future could be very, very bright very, very soon.”

By Lana Ferguson, a junior, print journalism major from Mechanicsville, Virginia. Photos by Lana Ferguson and Charlie Mitchell.

The Meek School Magazine is a collaborative effort of journalism and Integrated Marketing Communications students with the faculty of Meek School of Journalism and New Media. Every week, for the next few weeks, HottyToddy.com will feature an article from Meek Magazine, Issue 4 (2016-2017).

For questions or comments, email us at [email protected].

Follow HottyToddy.com on Instagram, Twitter and Snapchat @hottytoddynews. Like its Facebook page: If You Love Oxford and Ole Miss…

The post UM Alum Guides Photographic Safaris To Boost Zimbabwe Tourism appeared first on HottyToddy.com.

#hottytoddy #olemiss #oxfordms #oxford ms #mississippi #university of mississippi #the grove

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