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modern-inheritance · 3 years

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Modern Inheritance: Collateral (Smoke and Mirrors)

(A/N: A post-Feinster conversation between Brom and Arya. The whole end of Brisingr has so many implications for reawakening trauma for everyone, especially these two.

I want to make it abundantly clear, Brom and Arya never have and never will have any sort of romantic/couples thing between them! They’re more of father/daughter, mentor/student and traumatized war buddies. They’ve known each other so long that there’s a lot of trust and understanding between them concerning their traumas and the ways they cope. Anyway, cheers!)

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“What the hell! Brom!”

The elder Rider jerked, nearly inhaling the entire half smoked cigarette that he held to his lips. He whipped around to face his accuser as he choked on the ash he had sucked in, his first words of protest lost when he immediately had to double over in an attempt to clear his irritated lungs.

Arya scowled from where she had stopped not a yard behind her mentor, arms crossed as she waited for Brom to finish his coughing fit. The elf hadn’t exactly planned to seek him out after leaving Eragon and Saphira to rest at the house they now occupied as the Varden secured Feinster, instead looking for a place to sleep in the sacked city. But the steady trail of smoke from behind the corner of a half collapsed stone building had drawn her eye.

“The pipe? That’s fine! I could live with that! You sourced your own stock. But this shit?” Arya plucked the smoldering stick from his fingers as Brom began to raise his hands in defense. “For fucks sake, you know what’s in them! Enough’s enough!” She threw the cigarette to the sandy gutter beside the house and ground it out with her heel.

Brom finally managed a handful of words edgewise. “I’m out of pipe weed. The whole city is out.” Grumbling to himself as stepped back to lean against the wall, he began fishing his hands in the pockets of his coat. Arya’s eyes narrowed when his hands reappeared holding a beaten, half empty pack of Talon Filtereds and a squashed box of matches. “Don’t start with me again, girl. I’m not in the mood.”

As usual, his former student ignored him. “You’re chain smoking again?” Her words were sharp, almost accusing, but beneath it all edged a hint of worry.

Brom snorted, pale smoke venting from his nostrils as the cigarette caught and held. He took a deep inhale, let the feeling circulate in his lungs, before releasing a stream of grief and anger with the acrid vapor. “Would you rather I drink?”

Arya growled quietly and fell back against the wall next to him. This wasn’t a battle she could win, and she knew it. That didn’t change the way she felt. “No, I want you to deal with your fucking emotions in a healthy way.”

At that the Rider let out harsh bark of laughter and a cloud of white. “Look who’s talking, girl! Wait, what’s that?” He held up a hand and sniffed the nicotine laden air theatrically. “Do you smell that? Suddenly it reeks of hypocrisy here!”

The elf gave a wry grin, the pain behind her own bottled up grief and night terrors tugging at her lips. “...Touché.”

They stood together in silence for a handful of minutes, haloed by smoke and the dim glow of the lanterns that replaced shattered street lights.

The previous battle was unique for them. It had reopened old wounds that had just started to scab over, gashed a fresh one right across their hearts. She had faced the horrors of her nightmares brought back to life. He had watched helpless as his son and the boy’s partner of heart and mind nearly died. Both had lost the man that practically raised them, the one person they assumed they would never need to expect would die.

Brom broke the thick silence. He took a short pull of his cigarette and tilted his head to regard the woman beside him. “Are you holding up?”

He hid his grimace by lifting the stick back to his face when Arya dropped her gaze and refused to look at him. That was never a good sign. And she had been doing so well before Feinster.

“I’m fine.” The elf flicked her eyes in Brom’s direction when he moved, and scoffed when she saw the pointed, rather familiar expression he now gave her. “Oh, what?” Brom didn’t answer, merely put the cigarette to his lips again and raised his eyebrows even further. “Everything right now is just…. It’s fucked up, Brom. There isn’t time for me to...I don't know, vent?” She scowled and pushed stray hair back from her forehead, trying to gather her thoughts. “Fall apart? Sort through it. You know that.”

The elder Rider let out a grunt of acknowledgement around the dull orange of the tipping paper before gesturing to Arya’s neck. “Not enough time for healing that, then?”

Arya’s hand came up to touch her throat subconsciously, the dark marks under her jaw giving a light twinge at the contact. Eragon had healed the internal damage to her throat and muscles, but battlefield healing and exhaustion had let the surface injuries remain.

“They’re just bruises.” Still, her fingers lingered there, testing the injured flesh. Trying to chase away the feeling of cold hands around her throat and the smell of blood and concrete, the face and triumphant, gleeful snarl of another man-shaped monster.

Brom watched her out of the corner of his eye. When Arya abandoned the bruises to rub the back of her neck, that telltale tic that she had used for well over a year now, he ashed his cigarette and gently tapped her shoulder with the back of his free hand. “It wasn’t him. He’s dead and gone. Eragon saw to that.”

Arya let out a shaky stream of breath and dropped her hand from where she had been smoothing over the scars that slashed above the edge of her tank top. “Yeah, I know.” Sliding to the ground, the elf balanced on the balls of her feet and plucked a pebble from the earth before mumbling, “Doesn’t change how my brain sees it though.”

She looked up at her mentor, doing all she could to hide her desperation for a distraction as the old scenes loomed in her mind. “What about you, old man? Hanging in there?”

Brom’s lip twitched in a sudden snarl, the cigarette bobbing with the motion. “I’m going to kill that demon’s spawn.”

The change in his voice sent a sudden chill down Arya’s spine, chasing away the lingering sparks that raced across her scars. This wasn’t the voice of the man who had lived the last seventeen years. This was the voice of the man Arya had met on the trails of Ellesméra, a walking embodiment of rage, betrayal and anguish that could burn all in his path. “You mean Murtagh?”

With a violent jab of his hand Brom stabbed out remnants of his first smoke on the wall behind him. He ignored the pinpricks of blood that welled up from his fingers as he yanked a fresh stick out of the box and clamped it in his teeth to light as he growled, “He doesn’t get a name anymore. He’s dead when I see him, dragon or no dragon. I’ve done it before and I’ll do it again.” The first match he struck snapped in half and fizzled out. Brom swore and threw the shattered bits away and broke his cardinal rule to light the soothing cigarette with a spark of magic at his fingers, angrily puffing as it took.

Arya regarded him steadily, hearing the pain that edged the fury like so many razors. It would do no good to remind the Rider that Galbatorix had been in control when he struck the final blow against Oromis and Glaedr, nor would he want to hear that the young man and the red dragon were not Morzan and his twisted mount.

“...You really wanted them to be different, didn’t you?” The moment the words left her mouth Arya felt the folly of letting them loose.

Brom’s brilliant blue eyes turned to her, nostrils flared in rage as they jetted twin streaks of smoke. His hand lifted slightly, hovering near head height where Arya crouched beside him. The elf tensed, ready to take the blow if he struck.

He stopped. His fingers flexed, as though they could not make up their mind. At his lips the cigarette trembled, the trail of smog from its end wavering. For the briefest of moments, Arya saw a blazing flash of...failure...in his eyes. That was failure, failure and agony at the lives lost, though two still walked among the living. And then it was gone, replaced by an intense but controlled anger.

Brom lowered his trembling hand. “...Just let me smoke, dammit.”

“Fair enough.”

Another ten minutes passed, the only sounds being the Varden watch patrols calling out to each other in the sleeping city. Brom let his somewhat crumpled cigarette burn down to the mashed filter before grinding it out. His shaking had calmed, the enraged light in his eyes dimmed.

He cleared his throat as he shook another snout from the dwindling box. “...You had a shift watching Eragon and Saphira earlier?” Arya nodded, rolling the pebble she had picked up in her palm and shifting her balance in accordance with its movements. “And how are they doing with all of this?”

Another wry grin tilted the corner of the elf’s lips, though she did not raise her gaze. “Exceptionally better than we are.” The two shared a short laugh before she spoke again, almost hesitant. “Eragon is...having trouble. With something that happened while he was helping clear out Feinster.”

“What happened?”

Arya rocked back onto her heels and recounted Eragon’s telling of the boy that had startled him inside one of Feinster’s homes. The sheer shock he felt when he saw the youth, his pang of recognition, and, later, the horror he felt when he realized just how close he had come to killing an innocent civilian. “It’s been eating him up inside. Saphira’s told him over and over that he didn’t actually kill the kid, that it all worked out, but he’s still thinking about it.” She sighed, and with a flick of her wrist threw the pebble down like a dart. It gouged a crater into the compacted, sandy soil, the quiet thud and depth of the impact betraying her unearthly strength. “I told him to stop and just forget about it when he asked me how I would handle it.”

Brom paused. “...That’s unlike you.”

The elf rubbed her temples and shifted back to the balls of her feet, agitated and indecisive. “Yeah, well...I shut down a bit when he mentioned it. He wanted to try and get me to open up again, seeing as it’s gone well the last few times.” She shook her head, braid swaying. “I couldn’t. Not to them. Not about that.”

Realization dawned on the older Rider, and he pinched his cigarette between his pointer and thumb as he drew a long, deep pull and gathered his thoughts. He exhaled slowly, a heavy sigh of memories that were only partly repressed by the nicotine’s taste in his mouth, before slipping a hand into his pocket and peering up at the half concealed stars above. “Right. Thornwell.” He flicked the ashes away. “...Now that’s something I’d rather forget.”

“Fuck off. The day we forget Thornwell we better be fuckin’ dead.” Arya’s tone was harsh, laced with the bitterness of failure and a vehement streak of self-hatred that the elf rarely let out into the open. “We’re the only ones left to remember it, and it was our fucking fault. Don’t you dare try to brush it off.”

“I’m not.” With a soft pat, Brom dropped his free hand onto Arya’s head. The touch was sudden, so much so that the elf nearly jerked away until she felt the tension in the man’s muscles, the miniscule tremors that the cigarettes couldn’t suppress.

He knew. The memories still hurt plenty. He couldn’t let them go either.

Arya sighed and ducked her head, breaking the contact. “Good.” Her voice wasn’t as sharp now. Just...tired.

The taste of rich dirt, acrid smoke from a magic fueled fire and burning plastics rushed her senses with the memory of Thornwell’s resurgence. Uncaring if any of Eragon’s guards were in sight, she spat to the side, trying to rid herself of the shame laced flavor. Again she found herself resentful of her mind’s sensory recall, bitterly wishing elves memories could fade to washed out images and sounds as humans did.

“Here.” The combat liaison looked up to see Brom offering his still smoldering cigarette down to her. She stared at it for a long moment before gingerly accepting the roll between two fingers and shot a wary, questioning look to her mentor. “I don’t just smoke them for nicotine. It’s the only thing keeping the tastes out of my mouth.”

A moment later saw Arya coughing and gagging as she thrust the cigarette back. “That’s awful!” She spat again, choking on what felt like burning fumes. “Fuck!”

“But it worked, didn’t it?”

“I’ll tell you when I stop feeling like there’s acid in my throat!”

The old man was right, though. The acrid, vile taste had drowned out the pervading scents and flavors of that one day so many decades ago.

As the elf took a sip from the canteen off her belt, Brom turned his gaze back to the clouded stars. “...That was the day you broke my jaw, wasn’t it?”

Arya snorted into the neck of the canteen before muttering, “I cracked your cheekbone. I was…” She paused, screwing the cap back on and trying to choose the words that would cause the least pain for both of them. “We both were fucked up in that moment. You just wouldn’t realize it. I had to do something.”

“...I was like that a lot back then.”

“Yeah.” Arya clipped the canteen back on her belt. Rubbed her hands together.

She couldn’t bring herself to admit just how scared of him she had been that day, even before the accident. Brom carried within him a level of intensity at times that transcended rage. Thornwell was an incident where that blind fury led them both to ruin, at the cost of innocent lives.

Brom cleared his throat, drawing the elf’s eye back to him. “You know...we should start easing Eragon and Saphira into the notion that...that there’s going to be collateral someday.” The words left his mouth with a grimace and puffs of smoke. “Prepare them for it. Eragon’s so empathetic, I’m worried that–”

“No!” The Rider jerked, startled by the sharp, nearly shouted dismissal. Soft flecks of ashes scattered down, drifting to land cool and harmless onto the fists Arya held clenched at her knees.

Her refusal shocked him. Arya, of all people, knew that the right preparation could help lessen the acute effects of war. Her upbringing, like Eragon’s, had done little to prepare her for taking lives, losing comrades, and the burning senses of shame, self-hatred and anguish that could all accompany a prolonged conflict. As naïve as she had been when she joined the Varden, with only the surface understanding of her eventual role, it all had left a lasting impact on the elf.

Brom frowned. His former student’s body was ridgid, knuckles white. “Arya, you know it’s going to happen sooner or later–”

Arya cut him off again, her voice softer yet edged with a firm, pained conviction. “Brom...we both know it’s already happened.” And she pointed out towards the city around them. “You can’t tell me there weren’t people here.”

Some of the buildings were collapsed inward on themselves. Shopfronts, family businesses with living quarters above, stood half charred or half destroyed. Behind them, towards the towering keep, the building that Saphira had torn apart tooth and claw was abandoned besides smears of gore.

A nagging, grim understanding began creeping into Brom’s mind.

“I know he’s your son, and I know you have more of a say in what you tell him.” Arya continued. “But I can’t let you put the idea in his head. He’s so...he feels so much, Brom. He feels for others as much as he feels for himself. Saphira tries to help him through it but through him, she feels it too.” Tiny tremors shook her fists, nails biting into her palms. “If you start trying to prepare him, they’re going to realize that it’s probably already happened. They’re going to start wondering when. Why they didn’t notice it before. How many.

“That spiral doesn’t stop. It’s so hard to shut out, and….” She stopped, just short of her voice breaking. “I don’t want that to happen to them. Just...let them have this, Brom. Let me worry about it. Okay?”

Brom dragged the last trails of smoke from his cigarette and reached down. Placed his hand on the elf’s head and gently ran his thumb over her hair as he had always done with Eragon when the boy was frightened by his stories years ago. She tensed for a moment, before he felt the pent up stress ease. “Okay.” The older Rider tapped out the end of his smoke on the wall. “I see your point, kid.” With a gentle shift he pushed her to lean a shoulder against his leg in a comforting gesture of support and understanding. “But when it happens, you tell me. They’ll need both of us.”

“I will.”

They stayed like that for a long moment, supporting each other as the night’s words swirled through their minds.

“...I’m not going to be able to sleep tonight.” Arya muttered suddenly.

Brom let out a soft scoff. “Join the club.”

It brought another grim smile to the elf’s face. “Walk with me? Patrolling tends to help.”

“Fine.” Brom reached into his coat as Arya stood and stretched. He swore quietly when he found that the box of Talons was empty.

Realizing that Arya was watching him, Brom gave the box one last longing look before crumpling it in his fist and dropping it into his pocket. “Lead the way, kid.”

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justmenoworries · 3 years

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Fate: The Winx Saga - How Not To Reboot A Beloved Franchise

Okay, I think I speak for everyone here when I say: We saw this coming.

We saw this coming as soon as that godawful trailer dropped on youtube. But because I hate myself and because I wanted to give this pile of shit a chance, I watched it.

All of it.

It sucked and I won’t do it again.

The End.

....

Nah, I’m kidding.

Here’s why Fate: The Winx Saga sucked ass.

(Spoilers under the cut! Pfft, like anyone cares.)

The Story:

I suppose now you’ll expect me to tell you that F:TWS was a generic, boring slog-fest.

That it offered the most clichéd take on a Chosen One-story since Eragon and that it’s half-assed attempts to be scary through bringing in a zombie apocalypse made it even more painfully obvious just how hard the story was trying to be edgy and ‘’’’’’mature’’’’’’’’.

And, yeah, that’s pretty much how it went.

...Oh, I’m sorry, did you expect something fresh and surprising?

So did I when I watched this garbage.

The title says Winx, but honestly the story is more about Bloom than anyone else. At least they were faithful to the source material in one aspect, am I right fellow Winx-fans?

I hope you like Alfea, because you won’t be spending time anywhere else! Gone are the dozen colorful, unique worlds with their own eco-systems and culture.

Now we have The Otherworld, which is just earth, but with magic.

Oh yeah, and remember how each magic and non-magic users had their own, specialized schools to got to?

Cloud Tower, Alfea, Red Fountain?

Yeah, that’s all Alfea now.

Remember how Winx Club juggled great, charismatic villains and everyday teenage-drama in a way that made both seem interesting and neither obnoxious?

Fate fails miserably at that.

The subplot about the zombies- Oh, sorry, The Burned Ones ™ slowly invading Alfea couldn’t be more dry and uninteresting if it tried. You have hints of political intrigue in the background with the Solarians scheming and taking over in the end, but trust me when I say: You won’t care.

And since the character are either miserable, unlikable or both, you also won’t care about the teenage drama.

Because it’s every single teenage drama plot-line you’ve already seen in edgy reboots like Riverdale, Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, etc.

To add insult to injury, season 1 ends with the villains and antagonists taking over Alfea with Solaria’s help, as if anyone would be baited into a season 2 after you just dragged us through a worse version of The Walking Dead.

I would say this is what you watch to lull you to sleep, but all the incessant whining and belly-aching wouldn’t let you.

And because this is the ‘‘‘‘‘‘mature’‘‘‘‘‘ reboot, there will be no transformations and no bright colors. Just some nice effects for magic and that’s it.

Because, you know.

No one watched Winx Club for those, am I right? /s

And because in modern, edgy reboots women can never just be friends, the Winx Club start out hating each other, until suddenly they’re the best of friends in episode 4, Stella included.

Cool, huh?

The Characters:

I’ll get straight to the point: The main cast is horrible.

Not acting-wise, the actors are doing the best they can with the script, but the way they’re written...

God, the way they’re written.

For starters, Stella is a Karen now. In the very first episode she attempts to get Bloom killed, then runs away to cry into Sky’s shoulder rather than apologize.

Flora was replaced by a white character named Terra, who the writers probably thought would be received well solely because she’s awkward and makes a lot of Strawman-Feminist statements.

Techna got straight-up written out.

Musa was white-washed and is a Mind Fairy instead of a Music Fairy now, because her being the Fairy of Music wasn’t ‘‘‘‘mature’‘‘‘ enough for this reboot.

Bloom is a whiny, spoiled brat who is willing to endanger absolutely everyone around her to get what she wants. And in the end, the plot rewards her for it.

Aisha is the only Winx Club-member who remains likeable, but she’s firmly planted in the supporting character-role.

Most of the Specialists got written out too. No Timmy, no Helia, no Nabu, no Brandon.

Sky is still there, but he serves mainly as a boy toy for Stella and Bloom to fight over, because that needed to be a thing, I guess.

Riven was changed from Jerk with a Heart of Gold who learns to be better to just a one-note jerk who never changes and never learns. He’s also not with Musa in this story. Even though their romance was by far the most engaging one in the original series, aside from maybe Aisha and Nabu.

We get a new character named Dane, but he’s just there to be either a bully-victim or a side-character for others to take advantage of. Did I mention he’s the only black guy in the main cast? Yeah. There’s also this really asinine running gag that he might be gay, to tease a possible relationship with Riven, but nothing ever comes off it.

The teacher-characters are all pretty much the same: Duty-driven, want to protect the ones under their care, but end up alienating them by not being entirely honest with them because they think their students aren’t ready for The Truth, blah blah blah, moving on.

The villains don’t fare much better.

The Trix got fused into one single character named Beatrix (haha, get it?) and she’s just... The Worst. And not in a good way. She’s obviously supposed to be the Charming Bad Girl-type but you’re more likely to laugh your ass off every time she opens her mouth than be intrigued. Whoever wrote her dialogue clearly has no idea how teenagers talk. She hooks up with Riven and Dane for no reason in particular and it’s heavily implied these three are going to be the new Trix. Which is...no. Just no.

The headmistress’ secretary gets killed off in the third episode and doesn’t do much in the first two, so I have nothing to say about him.

Rosalind is a worse, female Darth Sidious who is trying so hard to get Bloom to join the Dark Side and I guarantee you, you will not care. The story also tries to present her as something of a well-intentioned extremist, but forgets to actually let her have a point in her murders and genocides.

Hey, remember when Winx Club characters were different and unique?

The writers of this reboot clearly don’t.

The Aesthetic:

Hey kids!

You know what’s better than bright colors and nice, comforting palettes?

Slapping a dull grey filter on everything and calling it a day!

If I had to list all the reasons why Fate’s lack of style is so heartbreaking and disappointing, we’d be here all day.

So I’m just gonna show you a few screenshots from both the original series and the reboot and let that speak for itself.

The Original:

The Reboot:

Honestly, what do I even need to say?

The reboot sucked out everything that made Winx Club Winx Club and replaced it with “YA-novel palette #17247845453″.

Thanks, I hate it.

In Conclusion:

Fate: The Winx Saga could have been a new take on Winx Club’s story.

Maybe even introduced new concepts and characters tat could have been just as iconic as the original ones.

It chose to be every reboot ever instead, made everything grimdark and fundamentally misunderstood the meaning of “Gray Morality”.

Do yourself a favor and re-watch the original instead.

It’ll be a much better use of your time.

#fate the winx saga #review

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weirdponytail · 4 years

Conversation

Alagaësia Q

Nasuada: And as you know I have a gigantic heart, so whhyyyyyyy~~? Don't I have a boyfriend??

Nasuada: FUCK!

Nasuada: It sucks to be me!

Eragon: Me too!

Arya: It sucks to be me!

Nasuada: It sucks–

All: –to be me! Is there anybody here it doesn't suck to be~?!

Murtagh: Well, my father was one of the first Riders to default to Galbatorix and help him slaughter all the dragons, was more monster than man, nearly killed me as a child, abused me and my mother, and everyone expects me to turn out like him. Oh and I was captured, tortured mentally and physically and then forced into slavery to protect the one person in my life that truly understands me and accepts me for who I am and all my friends that I was kidnapped from thought I was just like my father despite all of the above, the horrors I've endured, my hatred for Galbatorix and my own self loathing.

Nasuada:

Eragon:

Arya:

Eragon:...

All: It sucks to be you!

Nasuada: You win!

Arya: It sucks to be you!

Eragon: Haha, I feel better now.

All: It sucks to be YOU!

#inheritance cycle #Source: Avenue Q #eragon #the inheritance cycle #the cyclists #mic chats #modern inheritance #mi chats #nasuada #murtagh #arya #it sucks to be you #yeah murtagh wins #eragon crack #inheritance cycle crack #chats

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1000scrubs · 3 years

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Round 2: Titus Mede II

Writer Titus Mede II ‘s entry for August 2021

ANTONIO ALBUS AURELIUS XVII sat in a chair bearing his name. He was waiting in a dark, seemingly infinite room, remembering neither why he was there nor how he got there. He concentrated hard, trying to think back to remember anything that could help him figure out what the Hell was going on. He could vaguely remember… robes? A stick? No, think harder… a beard? Nothing useful came to Antonio’s poor, empty head. Indeed, it was as empty as this void he was sitting in. But then—

“Bad morning to you,” said the dark-clad man, who had just entered the room from a doorway that had not existed a second earlier. The man was rather large, and after closing the door and turning around, Antonio got a proper look at him. He had a large mustache and an extremely fancy three-piece suit, though the fabric seemed impossibly dark. He had a large hat atop his head, and underneath the brim were his unsettling silver eyes. The look of him gave Antonio a feeling of visceral fear, though he could not tell why.

“Oi, you this pompous Aurelius sounding fella?” asked the man, who spoke in a thick Cockney accent.

“Yes, I am Antonio Albus Aurelius XVII. Where am I?” asked Antonio Albus Aurelius XVII.

“Well, ‘Antonio Albus Aurelius XVII’ — mind if I call you Tony? Nah, of course you don’t — you have been lucky enough to arrive here, in Hell, where you shall spend the rest of eternity being tortured in my district of New Los Angeles! Oh, but I suppose you won’t understand that reference.”

“What in G— in G— what? What in Go—“

“Oh, you can’t say that name here. Don’t even try. It’s a bit petty, if you ask me, but it’s not up to me! Anyway, my name is Tommy. I’m here to answer any questions you have before you are sent into New Los Angeles.”

Though Tommy’s blasé nature made him feel somewhat less uncomfortable, Antonio was rather confused. He had no idea what this “New Los Angeles” is, or how he had ended up in Hell. “Well,” he started, “for starters, I can’t remember a thing about my life on Earth. What exactly did I end up doing to get down here?”

Tommy chuckled. “Oh, where do I start? First of all, practicing the Arcane Arts is an instant no-no to the Big Man Upstairs. Massacring an entire village probably didn’t help either. But what threw you over the edge was definitely the time you—“

“No, no, this has to be some sort of mistake. I didn’t do any of this stuff, I’m a good man! There has to be some sort of trial, or appeal, or something! This isn’t fair!”

“Fair? Tony, you’re in Hell, there is no more ‘fair’. Except Jimmy’s ‘Fun Fair of Fantastical Flying Feet’, were you are mercilessly pelted by— you know, I should stop getting so sidetracked, I’ve got 12,000 other people to orient after you before my shift is over. No, Tony, there’s no appeal, there’s no trial, and I think I’ve answered all of your questions. So peace out, and make sure you follow my TikTok when you get to the Social Media Torture Tower!”

Antonio started to object. “Wait, you haven’t answered my—“ but before he could finish, Tommy was gone, instantly returning through the doorway that had been there a second ago. He was now immensely confused, perhaps even more so than before. However, before Antonio had any time to think about what just happened, or why the demon was so well dressed, he was suddenly sucked through space to another location in the most painful way imaginable.

“Ianuae Magicae!” he shouted instinctively. The pain and the sensation of movement stopped; he had broken through whatever ethereal force had been moving him, and was in what appeared to be an infinitely large library. Antonio scoffed. “Another damned infinitely large room? And full of books? What, is this some kind of nerd kingdom? I’ve just gotta find a way out of here.”

“The exit’s over there,” someone said behind him. Antonio turned around quickly, and was greeted by the sight of a normal librarian, albeit looking extremely tired.

Antonio narrowed his eyes, not knowing what to expect. “Excuse me?”

“You want to leave the library, right? So instead of wandering around and making a racket, there’s the exit. Now get out and let me get back to re-reading the end of the Eragon trilogy, it’s the least terrible thing in this library.”

Antonio didn’t want to be in the vicinity of anyone who would even think of reading something like that recreationally, so he took her advice and left through the doorway she pointed out. He then found himself in an infinite-looking corridor, which looked like something right out of a 1980s office building. Antonio started walking aimlessly, but what seemed like hours later, he was still going down the same corridor with no end in sight. Fed up with his predicament, he opened the nearest door and went in. It turned out to be an elevator, so he clicked on the top level and waited.

When Antonio’s eyes finally opened, he could not quite understand what he was looking at. It seemed he had fallen asleep during the impossibly long elevator trip, but having arrived at the top, he was now seeing a gigantic, gothic-styled room that was entirely colored in black with red accents. The wall to his right was one giant, uninterrupted window, with a red hue shining from the outside. In front of the middle of the window was an ominous looking throne and a desk, with a villainous chandelier hanging above. Running out of adjectives to describe this room, Antonio noted the oppressive and boiling hot atmosphere inside the room before stepping inside. He sat down at the throne and started going through the desk, finding many files that seemed to detail the various operations of Hell. Antonio finally realized… he was sitting in the Devil’s chair.

“That’s kinda neat-o,” he thought to himself. As anyone would, he immediately went to look for his file. “Hmm, ‘Antony A. Augustine’, ‘Anthony A. Andreas’… ah, here we go, ‘Antonio A. Aurelius'! Oh, of course there are 17 of them… there it is: ‘Antonio A. Aurelius XVII’”

Antonio opened his file and was shocked to see the photograph inside. He saw a picture of a rather horrific looking man, with a gaunt and sickly looking face, terrible hair, and unsettling eyes. Shrugging this disturbing revelation aside, he looked back into the file and started reading it. “Antonio Albus Aurelius XVII, born in 13th century Tuscany? Exemplary record… lived a nearly flawless early life? If only he hadn’t chosen to become a necromancer!?”

This deeply shook Antonio Albus Aurelius XVII. Though it turned out Tommy had been exaggerating, as Antonio had apparently lived a good life outside of necromancy. Nobody had liked him of course, being a heretic necromancer who looked like some kind of cheap horror movie character, but Antonio had still provided valuable services when people had needed them. “I shouldn’t be here,” he thought. “I should be up in Heaven. I can only imagine how many other mistakes like this have been made…”

Antonio looked around some more and found a computer in Satan’s desk. He wouldn’t have thought that they used computers in Hell, but it made more and more sense the more he thought about it. Naturally, Satan’s password was “password”, and Antonio decided he would take advantage of the situation to implement some cosmic justice. He would bring balance to the universe, being a righteous man given the power of God.

After typing in a few commands, Antonio hit the return key like it had owed him money. Satisfied, he got up and turned around to look out of the massive panoramic window. He could see a vast ocean of lava, with a coast that was blackened and rocky, looking inhabitable and yet lit up with the bright lights of many settlements, which were all doubtless places where the residents of Hell were tortured. As he watched, he saw hundreds of bright beams of light flash from the muddy red sky straight down to the ground. He smiled to himself, just as he heard a colossal crash behind him.

“What in the Hell,” bellowed the Devil, “has conspired here?” The Devil walked into the room, the ruined remains of the main door behind him. His voice sounded of pure power, with an impossibly booming level of bass that Antonio could feel in his bones. He was the size of 3 men, with a large forked tail and two large horns protruding out of his forehead, which was maroon, matching the rest of his body. “I’m taking my first vacation in millennia, enjoying my time in San Diego, when I’m informed that some unauthorized low-life scum is in my personal office? And not just any unauthorized low-life scum, a resident?”

The Devil looked Antonio up and down, his glowing red eyes seeming to see straight into every cell in Antonio’s body. His sharp teeth became visible through his grin, then he started laughing. “Antonio Albus Aurelius XVII? You’ve just made your stay here in Hell… so much worse.”

With a motion of Satan’s hands, Antonio was restrained by some glowing red binds. Before Satan could continue, an extremely fit man dressed in white robes blasted straight through the panoramic window with contempt. He had short black hair with piercing, almost luminescent blue eyes. His clean-shaven jaw looked sharp enough to use as a weapon, and everything about him made Antonio feel inferior in every way. Even looking at the man for too long started to make his eyes hurt. Effortlessly hovering in the air, now with no discernible expression of emotion, he went over to Satan and looked him straight in the eyes. Satan, on the other hand, was seemingly unable to hold his gaze, and looked away.

“The Lord would like to express His dissatisfaction with you, Lucifer,” he said matter-of-factly in an extremely posh-sounding British accent, his voice sounding impossibly clear and extremely commanding. “There is a holy pact that has gone back to the founding of the universe. I know your kind doesn’t take kindly to any amount of reason or honor, but even I didn’t expect you to do something like this.”

Before the intimidating-looking man from Heaven could continue, Satan interjected. “I have done nothing of the sort, knave! This is the work of this dark magician, Antonio Albus Aurelius XVII.”

The man from Heaven turned around and sighed heavily. “Please, you expect me to believe that? You lot really are pathetic.”

Satan growled with irritation. He turned to Antonio. “What did you do?” he asked in a low, hushed voice.

Antonio smiled to himself and puffed up his chest, entirely overconfident and forgetting his place. “I have done what you are either too evil or too unintelligent to do,” he said, looking at both Satan and the well-dressed man from Heaven, the latter of whom immediately raised his eyebrow. “I have sent the best half of all people in Hell to Heaven. These people did not deserve to be here. They made mistakes in life, yes, but were ultimately good people.

The immaculately dressed man from Heaven scoffed. He turned to Lucifer and said, “Do you take the Lord and all of us in Heaven for fools, expecting us to believe this utter shamble? Could you have not picked a more convincing low-life to take the fall for you?”

“I know nothing of the situation!” Satan shouted angrily. He started storming over to the computer. Antonio stood by, unflinching, in total confidence that he had done the right thing.

“I mean, seriously,” continued the really very fancy looking man from Heaven. “If you’re going to come up with some pathetic excuse, don’t pick one we will so obviously know isn’t true. There has been no such influx of your heathenry to Heaven. Spending so much time down here really does reduce God’s creations to absolute worthlessness.”

Antonio was confused upon hearing this. How did none of the people he freed show up in Heaven? And why is the man from Heaven so rude? All of a sudden, he heard a bellowing roar from Satan, who promptly punched him with cosmic force. Antonio flew across the room, before hitting a television mounted on the wall. The force of the impact completely destroyed the TV, and Antonio was now lying on the ground reeling in pain.

“Do you realize what you have done!?” Satan was furious. “You will burn in the deepest circle of Hell for all eternity—I will torture you myself!”

The impeccably dressed man from Heaven scoffed again. “Are you seriously pretending to not know what happened? A man of God such as myself will not be so easily fooled by your pathetic tricks, Lucifer.”

“Don’t call me that! And you—” he turned to Antonio, who was now entirely aware that he was little more than an ant compared to everyone else in the room, then continued. “All you have done is send the WORST half of all people in Hell back to EARTH!”

The man with a perfect sense of fashion from Heaven interjected before the Devil could continue. “Finally, you admit to your wrongdoings, you traitorous wretch! I trust you realize that this surely means war, I was sent here to find out why this has happened and I have found no compelling reason whatsoever!”

The Devil sat still for a moment. “I suppose there is nothing else to be done in this situation.” He picked up a mobile phone and started typing an angry Tweet announcing his intentions. After he finished, he moved over to his desk, where he drafted and signed a document that was naturally written using someone’s blood. Probably someone who hated pens, documents, or both. He then got up and handed it to the hovering man from Heaven.

“A declaration of war? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, coming from such animals as you. I shall take this up to the Lord Himself, who shall surely destroy you once and for all. See you never,” he said, before flying straight out of the window and disappearing into the sky, sending a sonic boom echoing throughout Hell. Satan then turned to face Antonio, who was nowhere in sight.

Antonio, still in disbelief that he had manage to slip away undetected, was running as fast as he could to try and get as much distance between himself and the Devil as possible. Unfortunately for him, he wasn’t looking where he was going, and ran straight into a guardrail with enough speed to flip straight over it, helplessly falling straight into some sort of magic portal that was stationed several miles below.

Antonio awoke again, though this time instead of being presented with the depressing sight of Satan’s office, he could feel a pleasant breeze on his face and grass beneath him. Sitting up, he looked around to see grassy rolling hills with a city in the distance. The view was short-lived, though, as soon a large aircraft dropped a gigantic bomb, destroying the entire city in one blast. Not ten seconds later, a missile shot up from the top of a faraway hill, striking the plane and destroying its wing. The plane faltered, then fell out of the sky, crashing down into a field with all of its explosives onboard, causing an even more massive explosion that wiped out a nearby town. Antonio heard gunfire behind him, and turned around to see two armies fighting each other. The two armies ran at each other and Antonio could only imagine the ridiculous amount of bloodshed going on.

Suddenly, amidst the fighting of the two armies, a giant red portal opened up out of the Earth. Soldiers started falling in, only to come flying back out impaled on the horns of giant red demons that had erupted out of the portal. The demons landed on the ground and promptly started tearing both armies to pieces. Before Antonio could even comprehend what was happening, another giant white portal appeared in the sky. Hundreds of people who looked similar to the man from Heaven he saw earlier flew out like Supermen, some riding on giant chanting chariots, all of them without any weapons at all. The demons, seeing this, roared with ferocity and left into the sky to fight them, with the humans, now fighting side by side on the ground, shooting at their backs. The angels and demons met some thousand feet off the ground, combining cosmic blows that destroyed everything on the ground for miles. It seemed as though each angel could easily destroy a hundred demons at a time, but more and more demons kept appearing. More and more fighting was happening, clearing away anything and everything else in the sky, and knocking Antonio hundreds of feet along the ground even though he was far, far away from the fight.

Stunned, Antonio sat up again, ears ringing and completely covered in dust and debris from the blasts in the distance. Through his blurred vision he looked around him. The countryside was destroyed, and the cosmic forces were nowhere to be seen, surely having moved the fight elsewhere. Antonio tried to stand, but his body was too sore from being thrown about. He blacked out.

Antonio awoke once more, and now was greeted with the sight of a hospital. The inside of a hospital, that is. In fact, now that he’s waking up properly, Antonio noticed that this hospital was completely overcrowded. The nurse came over and looked him up and down. “I’m not sure why you’re still here, but get up and get out. Go down the hall and to the left.”

He wasn’t particularly surprised by her rudeness, given the circumstances, so he got up and went down the hall she mentioned. Even in the hall, there were bandaged people strewn all about the ground. “This is truly apocalyptic,” Antonio thought to himself, trying not to think about how he had caused it all. Upon reaching the end of the hall, he decided that he was a maverick, and went right instead of left. After a short walk, he found himself in what appeared to be a recruitment center.

“Another recruit— oh, God, you’re an ugly one aren’t you?” noted a man with an extremely well-featured face was sitting at a desk. “Never mind that, all able-bodied discharges go through there,” he said, pointing to a door just past his desk. Antonio, deciding that being a maverick hadn’t been very beneficial for him, elected to do as the man said. In a blur, he was given armor and a strange weapon, and loaded into a large metal carriage that seemed to drive itself with a bunch of other men, many of whom were covered in bandages. Antonio judged he was somewhere in the American Midwest, though the world had devolved into complete chaos as millions of the worst people who ever lived had been brought back to life.

From talking with the other soldiers, Antonio had learned that several major nations had been taken over by some of these people, who had immediately started violent wars in as many parts of the world as they could manage. Most large cities had already been destroyed by bombs they called “nuclear”, and now that the demons and angels were fighting each other, even more of the world had been completely destroyed. One soldier even said that Mount Everest had been completely leveled. Antonio was completely wracked with guilt, knowing he had caused all of this.

Suddenly the transport stopped, and the commander shouted to Antonio and his fellow soldiers to get out. Antonio got out and ran, before looking back and seeing a demon flying straight into his transport. An angel flew up and emitted a pure white beam of light from his bare hand, which shot straight into the demon and obliterated him.

“Children of God,” he started, turning to the soldiers. “Fear not, for the Lord shall protect you. Retreat to safety, and let us handle this threat.” He then rose into the air, and flew impossibly fast into the distance, causing a massive sonic boom that startled all the soldiers.

“What are we supposed to do now?” Antonio asked his commander.

The commander sat and thought for some time. “Listen,” he began. “We are completely outgunned in this fight. I think the flying man is right, we have no hope of defeating the enemy with what we have. There’s an old nuclear bunker 20 klicks that way.” He pointed to his left side, then continued, “Carry your weapons with you, let’s march.”

About 10 miles in, the march was disrupted. Right in front of the group, a demon came crashing down after being thrown what looked like hundreds of miles. Still disoriented, he opened his eyes and tried to look around.

“Fire! Fire! Give it everything you’ve got!” bellowed the commander. Every soldier opened fire, pumping hundreds of rounds into the demon. After what felt like 5 minutes of straight shooting, they let up. The demon looked as though he had merely been shot with a super soaker, and just looked at them. Seeing the terror on their faces, he smiled, and stood up, but then stopped after hearing a loud boom behind him. He turned around and couldn’t see anything, but suddenly an angel flew down out of the sky and kicked his head clean off. The angel turned to face the soldiers, and despite all of the brutal fighting, there wasn’t a single speck of dirt anywhere on her. Her long, flowing golden hair didn’t even look the slightest bit disturbed.

“You should all get to safety,” she said in what sounded like a Greek accent. “We are pushing the enemy back, but it’s still not safe to be out here. We will let you know when the demons have all been taken care of, and remember that you are all under the Lord’s eternal protection.” She then flew far up into the sky, until Antonio couldn’t see her anymore.

“Let’s keep marching,” said the commander. “The sooner we get to that bunker, the better.” They resumed the march, and only saw fighting happening in the distance for the rest of the trip. Upon arriving at the bunker, they turned on the radios and waited for their all-clear signal. And they waited. And waited some more. Until Antonio couldn’t bear waiting, and faded into darkness.

Antonio opened his eyes, as he had done many times after being stuck in that bunker. They waited 2 years for the all-clear signal, emerging from the bunker to see practically nothing left on the surface. The angels remained on Earth for some time to regenerate the natural resources that had been destroyed, then most left. The few who stayed provided support for some time, but then they left as well. Antonio traveled around for several years afterwards, trying to find somewhere proper to stay, but the world had largely been thrown back into the pre-industrial era. Nevertheless he persisted, traveling across the North American continent to help whom he could. Instead of necromancy, he learned healing magic to try and aid the people he came across along the way.

One day, Antonio found an old map of the United States. He instantly recognized most of the regions he had visited, but one area stuck out to him as strange. “Wyoming?” He’d never heard of this place, nor had he ever been there. He decided that this is where he would visit next, and after a few months of being on the road, he finally arrived and was shocked to see that it seemed entirely untouched.

After traveling into the city outskirts, Antonio looked around. Many people walked about freely with not a care in the world, all of them looking pristine in luxurious looking clothing. They reminded Antonio of the angels he had seen, though that must’ve just been how people looked right before the apocalypse. There were so many cars on the road that they actually had to stop and line up in turns to wait for each other, and all were driven by regular people rather than military personnel. Antonio looked back at the sidewalk and saw a man walking towards him. He held a small black slab in his hand that shone on his face, and was wearing very high quality clothing. Antonio walked up to him and grabbed his shoulder .

“What happened here?” Antonio asked, stunned at what he had just seen.

“Hey, what the hell? Watch yourself buddy, or I’ll call the police! Now I don’t know if you want any money or anything, but why don’t you go beg somewhere else instead of bothering me, ok?” He turned around and started walking away. Antonio grabbed his shoulder again, this time not letting go.

“What happened here? This place looks like it wasn’t destroyed in the war, that’s impossible!”

“War? What are you talking about? Are you pretending to be a time traveler or something? Or are you one of those people who like to play dress-up? And God, you reek, get away from me!”

Antonio grabbed him with both hands. “The war, the angels and the demons, it was years ago! Back in 2021!”

“Look, dude, I’m calling the cops. There was no ‘war’ in 2021, all that happened was the electrical grid crash and all the movies got canceled.” He started fiddling with his device, but then got frustrated and gave up. “And the damn cell service went to shit. But I’m pretty sure we would’ve noticed if there was a war.”

Antonio was in disbelief. “The rest of your country is destroyed! The entire world is destroyed! This state of ‘Wyoming’ is the only place left, and you don’t even know what happened?”  The man from Wyoming shrugged. “To be honest… we don’t really pay attention to the rest of the world. And they don’t pay any attention to us. What you’re saying… it would sort of make sense why all those movies never came out… do you have any photos of it on your phone?”  Antonio collapsed to the ground. “So what you’re telling me is,” he started, out of breath. “This place was left untouched… because everyone forgot about it?”

“Yeah, probably. I dunno, dude. I think I should probably call someone to come get you.” He started looking around, before pulling his glowing slab back out again.

“No, no… I don’t understand… just give me a moment.” Antonio lay down on the ground and covered his face. He could hear the murmurs of other pedestrians watching in confusion. Soon he sat back up and looked around, only to see a seemingly endless sea of faces in front of him. “Wait, no… please…” He turned to look at the man he had been speaking with, but he was no longer there.

The crowd parted, and two mustached men dressed in blue uniforms donning gleaming silver badges came through. Antonio couldn’t comprehend what was happening. They restrained him and put him in the back of a car. Antonio watched the surreal sight of the city pass him by; everything looked exactly as it must have been before the apocalypse. Antonio had not been in a car for many years, and the sensation of moving so fast was starting to make him sick.

Thankfully, the car stopped outside of a large, intimidating building. The uniformed men dragged him in and up to a woman standing by a desk.

“What is your name?” the woman asked him.

“I am Antonio Albus Aurelius XVII. I am from Tuscany of the 13th Century. I died and went to Hell, but accidentally caused the apocalypse when I tried to send half of the people in Hell to Heaven.”

“Oh, really? Here, walk with me, and you can tell me all about it.” Antonio started following the woman down the hallway.

“Yes. I’m a necromancer, you see. Or, I was. But that’s why I was in Hell. I somehow managed to get into the Devil’s offices, and on his computer I tried to send the best half of people to Heaven. It was a sort of cosmic justice, you know?”

“Oh, for sure,” the woman responded. Antonio could sense that she wasn’t particularly interested in the conversation, but he continued nonetheless.

“Yeah, so it turns out I got it backwards, I suppose. I sent the worst half of people to Earth, instead of the best half to Heaven. So this angel came down and Satan ended up declaring war, I suppose.”

“Angels and demons, eh? I’m all ears,” the woman said, completely uninterested.

“I managed to escape, and then I somehow ended up back on Earth. This was way back in 2021, of course, before the apocalypse. Which happened immediately after I returned. There were already nuclear wars and whatnot, but the war of the angels and demons really devastated the world, you know?”

The woman nodded. “Of course, we all saw it, right?”

“Yeah, finally, someone who knows what happened! So I ended up in a bunker during the war, for several years while the angels finished off the demons. Then I traveled around the country, I learned proper healing magic so that I could help people. Then I heard of this place, ‘Wyoming’, and came over here to check it out. You guys seem to be the only part of the world that was left untouched. It seems as though everybody forgot you existed.”

“Yes, we are used to that; that was a fascinating story, but we’ve arrived at your room. You can stay here as long as you like, you’ll be perfectly safe and taken care of.”

Antonio was startled, but very excited at this news. “Oh, thank you so much!” He eagerly rushed into the room, which was largely empty. “Hey, wait, this room doesn’t even have a—” He was cut off by the door closing and locking. The room was padded, and there was nothing but a light in the roof and a bed in the corner. Antonio knocked on the doors for hours, trying to get someone to talk to him, but nobody answered. Eventually, some food slipped through a hatch in the wall, and some time after that he was restrained and escorted to a restroom. He tried to talk to the guards, but they didn’t respond, and he was locked back in the room.

Eventually, Antonio lost track of the days, the months, then the years. One day, he fell asleep on his bed as he had done thousands of times before, but when he woke, he sat in a familiar black void. An invisible door opened, and he saw a familiar face come through.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Antonio Albus Aurelius XVII.” He laughed fiendishly. “We’ve been waiting for you down here. Let’s see…” He pulled out Antonio’s file, then continued, “Necromancy. Nasty business, that. But let’s just skip this part and get to the real juicy bit.” He licked his finger, then flipped the page. “Insurrection against the natural order. Impersonating the Devil. Unauthorized actions compromising the realm of Hell. Actions causing the release of people from Hell. Returning to Earth without permission. Actions directly causing the death of millions on Earth. And perhaps the worst of all: directly causing the Intergalactic Wyoming Empire to become the dominant human civilization—for the foreseeable future, at least. Seriously?” He leaned in closely, then continued, “they would never have known if you never went there!”

He slammed the file shut with a satisfied grin on his face. “There’s a special place down here for you. I don’t think any human has ever been there, so congratulations on becoming the first! You should take it as a compliment, really,” Tommy said, leaning back in his chair. He began fiddling with his mustache. “And I suppose I can use it as bragging rights. ‘Tommy, the torturer who was once assigned to the infamous Tony Aurelius!’ I like the sound of that!” He laughed again. “Oi, mind if I take a quick video of the two of us for my socials? I could use this cred’. And you’ll probably look disfigured forevermore once the Boss starts his work on you, so I should get in early y’know?”

Antonio, having not listened to Tommy for some time, did not respond, but only hung his head in shame. He didn’t know what was in store for him, but he did feel that he deserved it. He had officially become the worst person to have ever lived.

——-

Who: A necromancer with a heart of gold What: Causes the apocalypse When: The year 2021 Where: In Hell Why: To bring balance to the universe

#5w story #short story #writeblr #writing #titus mede ii #august 2021 #fiction #short fiction #apocalypse #death

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saphira-approves · 3 years

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Isn't Eragon's scar issue not actually best compared to epilepsy? At least this was always what I compared it to in my mind while reading

To be honest, I’m not sure! He definitely has seizures, but seizures are not just caused by epilepsy—he definitely has nerve damage, which could cause seizures, and I have no experience to say whether that counts as brain damage to cause epilepsy, specifically. His seizures aren’t triggered by traditional epilepsy triggers—as far as I can tell those are usually visual, audible, or otherwise not due to physical strain, but again, I have no idea.

It’s possible that, since the seizures are caused by the injury, and the injury involves some serious nerve damage, it might technically count as epilepsy. I’ve never interpreted it that way myself, but if you or another reader has epilepsy and wishes to interpret it that was to better relate to the character, or headcanon Eragon having epilepsy, I sure as hell am not gonna stop you!

#inheritance cycle #eragon shadeslayer #epilepsy #i would ask my friend but honestly i have no idea if they even wanna talk about it #good question anon!#and personally i’ve always related it to some of my experience with injuries #one time i had a really bad bout of whiplash where i couldn’t move ny head #without explosive pain in my neck #it sucked! eragon helped.

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sdvharveybby · 3 years

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👾 Do you believe in aliens, 🎥 Fave film, 📖 Fave book?

So, lmfao, okay, I woke up today with 96 notifications. That’s the most I’ve ever gotten on Tumblr, what I thought was hilarious is that these notifications primarily came from two people who basically went through my entire blog and liked almost everything. I cannot believe that- like, the dedication and want to do that makes me laugh, but also feel really touched. Thank you so much!!!

👾 - Pfft, this makes me laugh. Like, okay, I’m not denying that there might potentially be other lifeforms outside of Earth, but also- I want to pretend that they don’t exist because the idea scares me!! Also, there’s this whole thing that if aliens came that they’d be infinitely smarter than us and be so technologically advanced that we’d have no choice to submit, but what if we were the dominant ones? How crazy would that be! That’s such an interesting thought.

🎥 - Anything with Will Ferrell in it. He makes me CRY from laughing- he’s just a big comedic baby and I just can’t help but to love almost every movie he’s in. With that being sad, ‘Step Brothers’ is my all time favorite movie in this entire world. I actually use this movie as a feel better movie- one year I had a bit of a sadness bout and actually played this movie, on repeat, for three days. It easily cracked me up and I felt better! Whenever I’m sad I pop the disk in my Ps4 and watch it over and over again. I don’t think there’s a movie that will ever make me laugh as hard as that one!!

📖 - I don’t read as much as I use too, but back when I was in... Seventh grade? I read the entire Harry Potter series in just a few weeks. I was floored to read those books, I really loved them! But, now I haven’t finished the series, but there’s a book called Eragon (I think the series is called the Inheritance Cycle or something) Oh, wow is Eragon so freaking good. It’s certainly not a short book, but the author, Christopher Paolini, wrote the first book while he was still in his teens. It has four books in total- I got to the third book, but at the time I didn’t have enough money for the fourth one so I fell out of it. Man, do I recommend these books though- if you like dragons and fantasy, it’s absolutely perfect. (Don’t watch the movie though- IT FREAKING SUCKS IN EVERY WAY)

THANKS AGAIN SWEET BBY YOU’RE AWESOME AND THANK YOU FOR SUPPORTING MY BLOG! I saw your one reblog where you shouted, “WHERE ARE ALL YOUR NOTES” That was truly sweet of you to say! Thank you for enjoying my work so much, it makes me incredibly happy.

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jojal-jojalkorean · 4 years

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💖Introducing New Admins!💖

Hello everyone! 안녕하세요! This is Admin Yu here:D We’re back with more vocabs, grammar lessons, Korean culture and history posts, and most importantly NEW admins! They are all talented and awesome! We’ll try to upload posts more frequently so please stay tuned😉

Admin Na

Grade: 1st grade of high school

Dream job: Reporter

My personality: I’m an ESFJ!

What I usually do in the Jojal-jojal team: I have written posts. Some of you may have already noticed but I'm not really ‘new’ to Jojal-jojal. I’ve been working with Admin Sun, Do, and Yu for the past 5 months and have written posts like ‘Learn Korean with Kdramas’, ‘Learn Korean with Songs’, ‘Dalgona Coffee’ etc(I hope you enjoyed them:D). And also I am planning to record all of Jojal-jojal’s activities and manage the attendance/budget of the blog.

Favorite Subject: My favorite subject is English and Korean! Also, I’m totally into biology these days, too.

Things I like: I’m a big fan of IU. I enjoy watching Kdramas starring IU(You should definitely watch ‘Hotel Deluna’ it’s so good). My favorite songs are ‘Twenty three’, ‘That was green’, ‘Red Queen’, and ‘glasses’. I like to go to gastroventures and experience delicious new food. I also love to travel! It makes me refresh my mind and helps me release stress. Visiting new places, experiencing new cultures, and meeting new people is always exciting! Since I am a teenager right now, I have restrictions on travelling, but as soon as I become an adult, I want to visit many places I haven't been to.

My hobbies: I really enjoy reading both Korean and English novels. They make me think about stuff I would never even get interested in, let me feel a lot of emotions, and they also teach me a lot, too. (Sometimes I write them myself although it's terrible😂)

Random facts about me:

It’s almost 12 a.m. right now in Korea, but I’m wide awake, introducing myself to you guys.:D

I used to be able to speak only in English accent when I was little, but now I can speak in both English and American since most of the people here speak in an American accent.

As I said, I really love to travel, and the place where I most want to go is Venecia.

I suck at Dynamics.. wonder how science could be super interesting and hard at the same time.

Stay safe everyone

Admin Hyun

Grade: Highschool 1st grade

Dream job: Nurse or a School-nurse

My personality: INFJ

What I usually do in the Jojal-jojal team: I usually write posts and I’m in charge of the overall financial.

Favorite Subject: I like science and art!

Things I like (My interests): I love fantasy novels and movies. Especially ‘Harry Potter’. I am also interested in earth science and chemistry. I like to learn about stars, planets, and the galaxy. And psychology is one of my favorite areas.

My hobbies: My hobby is listening to music and taking a nap(when I am little bit tired)

Random facts about me:

I love pop musics. My favorite singer is Selena Gomez and Taylor Swift!

My dreams are not really decided yet, so it often changes. But right now I want to be a nurse :)

If one day I can go to the U.S., I really want to visit Disneyland and Universal studios!!

Admin Ju

Grade: first grade of high school

Dream job: accountant

My personality: ESFT-T

What I usually do in the jojal-jojal team: I usually write posts and am in change of technical work. Besides, l am a blog management. I am freshman of this team. So, I'm going to learn hard from predecessors and try to provide more various posts for you!

Favorite subject: My favorite subject is PE (physical education).

Things I like: My interest is movies that contain the history of Korea. They are more interesting for me rather than I learned the history of Korea. Because history movies are more deeper and vivider than history that I learned at school. Sometimes I was empathized the movie, so I cried many times. Maybe, If you are interested in the history of Korea, I recommend you movies like 항거(A resistance), 암살(assassination), 명량(Roaring currents) , 대장 김창수(Man of will), 택시운전사(A taxi driver), and 천문(Forbidden Dream).

My hobbies: My hobby is reading novels. Especially, I like reading romance novels.

Random facts about me:

I didn’t go to the school because of COVID- 19. So, I am getting fat because I stayed at home and ate a lot.

Now, I make up my mind to exercise. But, I have been on a diet for 10 years just by words. :D

My nickname is water tap because I cry when I watch a sad movie and my friend cries.

Admin Kyung

Grade: 1st in high school

Dream job: I don’t have a specific dream job, but I want to become a person who do what I want.

My personality: I am ISFP. I think my MBTI is very suitable for me.

What I usually do in the Jojal-jojal team: My role is to uproad posts on queue. I write some posts. And I answer the questions people ask of us.

Favorite Subject: My favorite subject is music. i like singing and listening to music. My favorite music are SHINee’s Dream Girl and ONF’s New World.

Things I like (My interests): I love The Boyz who is an idol group of Korea. They sing well. My favorite The Boyz’s songs are water and Right here. My favorite member is Sunwoo, and he is very cute.

My hobbies: I like singing music. And I also like to fill coloring book. But I am so lazy that I have never finished coloring books.

Random facts about me:

My height is 168. I think I am tall, but I want to have short height. Because I think the most ideal height is 165.

I want to travel all around the world before I die.

Admin Hee

Grade : 1st grade of Highschool

Dream job : My dream job hasn’t been decided yet. But I’m thinking of going to psychology or something related to overseas. Actually, there are many jobs I’m curious about. A flight attendant, interpreter etc.

Personality : ISFJ!!

What I usually do in the Jojal-jojal team : I’m going to write some posts from now on. Look forward to it!! I’m also going to answer some questions.

Favorite Subject : My favorite subject is English and bioscience. I think studying in New Zealand is the main reason why I started to like English.

Things I like : I like watching movies. I really enjoyed ‘The Avengers’ , ‘Maze runner’. I also like to hang out with my friends. When I’m bored or when I have nothing to do sometimes I call my friends. I really like talking and spending times with people. It happens in foreign countries too! When I travel, I like to talk with foreigners, new people.

My hobbies : My hobby is listening to music. I don’t really care about the genre of the music. I usually enjoy listening K-pop, Pop songs. My favorite singers are BTS, Lauv and The weeknd! I’m still waiting for their new songs~!

Random facts about me :

I really want to visit Switzerland someday!!

I like to eat ( pizza, pasta, ice flakes etc.)

I want to become an international couple

I’m very active. Like dancing, singing, walking around~

Admin Sung

Grade: 1st grade of highschool

Dream job: pharmaceutical-related occupation (for example pharmacist)

My personality: I’m ISFJ. I think it's quite consistent with me.

What I usually do in the Jojal-jojal team: I’m going to manage financial part of Jojal-jojal team with our team member. Also answering to what you guys ask us is one of my roles.

Favorite Subject: My favorite subject is Korean, especially grammar part. I wish I could enjoy writing grammar posts.

Things I like (My interests): These days, I love going school ! After almost half years of house cock life, I really wanted to go school. When I met my friends at school, I was so happy :D Other than this, I like watching movie at the movie theater. It helps me to refresh and keep having positive energy.

My hobbies: In my free time, I enjoy looking around Instagram. Instagram gives me a big fun and huge amount of information and tips. For the rest of the time, I just prefer sleeping to restore energy.

Random facts about me:

I like color ‘purple’. So I enjoy using purple pen and highlighter !

I tend to listen one song over and over again when I am hooked on something. What I listen to these days is ‘Aloha’ sung by Jo Jung-seok.

Admin Seo

Grade: I am a first grader

Dream job: I don’t have a dream job yet

My personality: My M.B.T.I test results are INTP-T

What I usually do in the Jojal-jojal team: What I’m mainly going to do in the JoJal-JoJal team is designing

Favorite Subject: My favorite subject is physics, geo-science, and art

Things I like (My interests): What I like doing is reading fiction books (Eragon, The gods of Olympus, This book is not good for you, the magic Thief, odyssey, and more) or reading webtoons. I also like playing games.

My hobbies: My hobbies are playing badminton talking or messaging with friends watching movies

Random facts about me

I’m the only boy in the JoJal-JoJal team

I like physics but I suck at math

I lived in Israel for 4and a half years

I haven’t read the Harry Potter series

-Edited by Admin Yu

#new admins #Admin Na #Admin Hyun #Admin Ju #Admin Kyung #Admin Hee #Admin Sung #Admin Seo #intro #한국어 #korean #langblr

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thegalaxysyst3m · 4 years

Text

Human Flaws Chapter 5

Chapter 6. Chapter 5. Chapter 4. Chapter 3. Chapter 2. Chapter 1.

When the twins were younger, Remus had found Roman a font that helped combat his dyslexia at the start of middle school. Ever since then, Roman used it for everything he could. The only issue was that the books in the library did not use the font he could actually read. They all used that crappy Times font that he had to read over and over to understand.

So as he got into his English class, and decoded the board, he visibly cringed; They were reading Erapon in class today. It was a book by a guy called Paolini and Roman hadn't liked it so far. Maybe he just hadn't gotten to the good part yet.

That was probably it; seen as he hadn't gotten past the second page. So he tried to listen to his English teacher as she spoke, "By now you all should be up to page ten of Christopher Paolini's Eragon," She held up a copy of the book, the name printed in all caps.

Roman looked at the board and then at the book. Then once more. It was called Eragon, not Erapon. It at least made a bit more sense than when he had first read it.

Mrs. Williams continued, " If you're not up to or past that point then I suggest you catch up during your free time in class. However, before you do that, you all need to get these definitions copied for the next few chapters." She handed everyone a list of words.

The words were as followed: Taciturn, Countenance, Troubadour, Flagon, Florid, Requiem, Bereft, and a few others that Roman struggled to read. So he got out a dictionary from the bookshelf and started flipping through it.

This was going to take him a while.

--------

At the rate he was going, Roman would have to finish some of the definitions for homework. Perhaps he could ask Remus to help him after school. All of this would have to wait, however, because Mrs. Williams asked him to wait after class to chat. Anybody in Mrs. Williams' class knew that "chat" was never a good term to hear her say to you. Roman felt right to assume this would be about how he hadn't even finished his definitions.

However, as she walked up to him, she sat down and handed him a sheet of paper. He took it, awaiting some sort of reprimands from her, only to hear, "It's a permission form to get an audio book from the library. All you have to do is hand it to somebody at the front desk and ask them for a copy of the book for class. They should be able to find you one."

He nodded, putting the paper in his pocket, and grabbing his things. She smiled- which was quite an odd thing to see from her- and hands him a drawn map of how to get to the library. He was bound to appreciate that on his way there. He wasn't good with remembering verbal directions. So he gratefully took the map and thanked her as he headed on his way, giving her a sincere thank you as he passed the door.

Roman started walking, looking at the map as he went. He really should have how to get to the library memorized by this point. Yet, he still needed directions for it every time. Hell, when he went to the library with Remus for tutoring, his twin had to get them there- and Remus wasn't all that good with directions either. It was like a wild goose chase to find the library. Except the library had never been running, it was just two idiots who had no idea where they were going.

He looked back at the map; First he needed to take left, and then he needed to go down the stairs, then take a right, then another right once he was next the spiral staircase, and finally he would be at the library doors.

As he got to the turning point he was glad he had a drawn map rather than not-so-simple words on a page. It saved him an awful lot of trouble. Maybe he should just keep the map for the next time he needed to get to the library. It seemed like a good idea.

He continued like this for a couple minutes before he reached the doors of the library.

Roman walked in, taking in the smell of old books sitting on the shelves as he went. He never hated reading, he just got.... bored with it. It took him a long time to read things and it made it difficult to get sucked into the books like he wanted. Roman still thought he'd give anything to not have his Dyslexia. He always had and he always stayed that way. He didn't think he'd be changing his mind any time soon.

He got himself out of his thoughts and went up to the main desk, "I wanted to know if you had an audio book for Eragon?" He handed the librarian, Joan, the slip of paper out of his backpack. Joan looked at the sheet and then back at Roman, "Can I have your name please?"

Roman looked at the permission slip. Surely it had his name on there somewhere. He sighed, Yeah, that's easy; Really Obviously Muscular And Nice. R. O. M. A. N."

Joan smiled a bit and started typing in the computer. Then they frowned after a couple seconds. "Tsk. Sorry Ro, we don't have an audio copy for Eragon in here yet. However if you want, I'm sure somebody here would be willing to read it to you. If you don't mind me asking, how's your tutoring going? Is Logan helping any?"

Roman nodded. Logan seemed like he could be very helpful- that is- if Roman would stop getting distracted by him. Roman was about to say he was going to go look around the library for some other books when he heard him talking behind him. Speak of the devil. Of course that would be his luck. Why wouldn't nerdy wolverine show up in the library.

Roman looked back at Logan behind him and politely move out of the way. However. Joan seemed to have other plans. They seemed to smirk at Roman as they spoke, "Hey Logan! What are you reading this time? Have you tried Paolini yet?" Logan looked at his hands, lost in thought for a moment. Then he shook his head, looking at everything but Joan the Librarian. He caught eyes with Roman as Joan lit up with an idea, saying, "If you'd be interested, Roman here is reading a book by Paolini in his English class and he thought you might like it. Eragon specifically; Maybe you could read it together?"

Logan looked at Roman's jacket this time, not one to look people head on. Then he nodded. Already walking ahead and searching to find the specific book in the library. He looked back at Roman momentarily looking him in the eyes and then motioned for him to follow him as he searched. Roman tried to think of where it would be as he looked.

Both boys knew the library was organized alphabetically and then by last name. The farther shelves were letters further down the line from A. On the walls were nonfiction and educational writings and the shelves in the middle of the room were all nonfiction of some kind. So Paolini would be farther to the back of the room on the center bookshelves. So that's where Roman looked while Logan leisurely walked the isles, scanning the letters.

So when Roman found it first Logan looked a bit shocked as he went to go sit with the brown eyed boy. He sat down nonetheless at the table and Roman got out his own copy from the classroom. Logan looked at the first page, scanning over it before looking back at Roman. He was trying to do the same, but he looked so frustrated just from a single page. Logan hadn't thought it was that bad. Maybe Roman just wasn't a fan of his writing? He looked at him again, trying to figure out the emotion on his face. Roman had gotten out a reading ruler and was silently voicing out the words he was trying to read. Logan tried to find where he was reading. Roman was flipping around his letters and it sounded like he was flipping some words entirely. Logan looked again at Roman, "I can read it out loud for both of us if you would like, Roman." Logan didn't want to upset him though so he didn't say anything else. He knew what if felt like to feel less than. Many kids thought of him as weird. Odd. A freak.

But none of that was true. He wasn't any of those things. And even if other people did, Logan didn't want to get rid of his Autism at all. It made him who he was and sometimes he wasn't sure what life would be like without it. So he was not going make Roman feel that way for his Dyslexia no matter what. So as Roman nodded with a defeated sigh, Logan only smiled at him, making note of an idea in his head for later.

Taglist: @shootysturs @punsparcethesnake @wishthefish916

#sanders sides #Human Flaws #sanders sides highschool au #ts roman #roman sanders #ts logan #logan sanders #remus sanders #ts remus #ts sides

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loki-the-trikster-god · 3 years

Note

it’s clyde!

ahhh it’s so exciting i read the tempest last year good luck with memorization!

i wish i could be an actor too, but sadly i don’t exactly have the ideal features that would motivate someone to put me on a screen unfortunately

the idea of being someone else temporarily i have to say is definitely the most enthralling part of the career choice though i can’t say i’d want to actually be caliban he’s a little... questionable if you know what i mean

i’m canadian (yay :) and i’m in grade 8 but don’t let my youth mislead you i think i’m intelligent... hopefully. right now being canadian sort of sucks because we are in our fourth freaking lockdown and i’m pretty sure i won’t get a graduation this year which really sucks

ah this is so long sry amigo i’m rambling

this time my question issssss: what are your fandoms?

Caliban has his issues, as does the whole play. Racially it’s interesting. Also thank you!! Also!! If you want to do theater you do it! There’s always a spot for you somewhere.

I stg I sound like a cult recruiter whenever I talk abt theater lmaooo

For complicated hyperfixation reasons I’m in love with the entirety of Canada and am therefore very jealous. That doesn’t sound fun at all thought, I read an article about how bad your vaccine rollout is this morning :/ I really hope u get a graduation and hey, if you don’t, I’ll throw u a little virtual party on here!!!!

Don’t u ever worry about rambling to me I love it very much.

Ack let’s see,,, my fandoms: I am in the kotlc fandom bc that’s where most of my friends are on here although I’m pretty much done and fed up with the canon books. I reblog Eragon stuff a lot cause hyperfixation,,,,,, I’ve just started fixating on Nevermoor again (those are good go read them if u havent) so you’ll see that from me a lot now. Other than that I let the hyperfixation ramble as it will but I don’t watch much tv (just slings and arrows over and over lmaooooooo I need help) (<- aforementioned is an extremely niche shakespeare theater comedy that is keeping me living)

Look now I’m rambling lmaoo

#loki stuff #its clyde!

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softgrungeprophet · 3 years

Text

i liked agent venom when i read it, partially because it actually had a discernible plot and a story that wasn’t just half finished and abandoned from constant cancellations, but at the same time i hate it. i hate it so much.

i hate that flash became venom and suddenly, all of his relationships were completely erased except for like, betty and sometimes peter and that was it. mj and harry who? childhood friendship with liz? no she’s just going to... blackmail him for some reason even though they’ve known each other for literally like 15 years

i hate the agent venom origin slott wrote, i hate flash being pissy about peter confiding in MJ, who they are both friends with, because if you’re dan slott you can’t talk to girls unless you plan on fucking them, i hate how gung ho slott is about the military propaganda and the fucking american flag behind flash in superior spider-man, even though superior (a comic i don’t ever plan to read in full) actually had a good moment with flash and “peter” and flash’s tenseness in a domestic argument situation

(i also hate that that one pre-agent venom web of spidey comic could have been good, actually had good assistive devices, but then... the entire villain plot is about some Mysterious Terrorist or whatever who nonetheless congratulates flash for “constructively” letting out his anger on faceless middle-eastern soldiers, and this is played straight--disgusting)

i hate all of it even the things i like because they took a character who actually was fairly complex and flattened him into a football-loving, gun-toting, all-american patriot who loves god and his country, at odds with the previous 30 years of character development, at odds with the flash who when asked if he liked being in the army (after being DRAFTED into fucking vietnam) said that there is no liking the army, only dealing with it, and i hate every bro who thinks agent venom was the coming of the great whatever and acts like flash was completely nothing before then and that only in agent venom did he have any character when the opposite is true and agent venom trampled out every bit of nuance he had to focus on alcohol and football and nothing else (at least bunn finally put him back into a school again, had him working with youth again (andi in this case))

i hate, unrelated to agent venom, the fact that flash the complex character has been further and further stretched and distorted to have been a horribly violent schoolwide bully as a teenager rather than what he actually was--an obnoxious kid with a fucked up home life trying to fuck with one specific kid--to the point that even in the college stuff, even AFTER having “become good,” he’s the only one who gets repeatedly and purposefully excluded from official works and fan works alike because everyone thinks of him as nothing more than a bully, that every movie appearance of flash sucks except TASM (which is still barely a flutter but you can tell thought was actually put into his character by the actor himself), the fact that he’s the only living member of the friend group (because i assume gwen is dead) who doesn’t get more than a single-line mention in the ps4 game (but at least it’s positive, and i like to pretend that MJ was checking on him when she went to the veteran’s center since we know he works with veterans in the game, even if we never see him) (i still want to be able to go to coffee with mj, flash and harry all together)

i don’t like the bullying flashback in the bunn AV run (even though i liked the comic as a whole, especially with andi, and how bunn and shalvey moved away from the military stuff more toward neighborhood protector stuff), i don’t like bunn’s take on high school flash (he also wrote a different spider-man comic with high school flash a little bit before then)

i hate that flash’s growth wrt his disability, which he came to accept as a part of him that he didn’t need to find some miracle cure for, was completely thrown down the toilet so they could do their stupid supersoldier agent venom shit, which flies directly against the SPECIFIC endpoint of the stages of grief comic, which SPECIFICALLY used superserums and bionic military limb testing as the thing he did not need in his life--and then dan slott runs over like teehee here’s some bionic supersoldier military testing shit :3c

hate that he was killed for the stupidest reason by norman fucking osborn, hate that the disabled abuse survivor was killed by the man who killed one of his best friends, who abused another, who manipulated HIM, who drove him into a fucking building after force-feeding him hard alcohol, hate that norman got to “win” against flash one last time, hate that norman is now being treated as this fucking “couldn’t help it” case while harry is Actually Bad, and still, flash is what? a dream symbiote dragon? fucking stupid and i hate it, i don’t want any of it

every new thing i see about new spider-man and venom comics wrt flash makes me wish he would stay dead lmfao

but it’s not like there weren’t already a ton of bad comics about him but at the very least... i would like something that isn’t just about the Patriotic Soldier Boy who never actually fucking existed

the football thing is a really fun one--and i love that the TASM movie made flash play basketball in that movie because if you look at comics from the 60s through to the early-mid 2000s, preceding agent venom... flash stopped playing football after high school and started playing basketball instead. started doing other sports, probably stopped football because, gee i can guess who told him to play football in the first place, but somehow agent venom happened and decided that his entire life was just Football and Guns? when he hadn’t touched a football in literally like... 10 years in-universe

(TASM best live-action spidey adaptation)

there is not purpose to this rant i just needed to get all this shit out of my head

i am very On Edge the past few weeks and idk why, just ADHD brain shit I guess but everything makes me tense lately (probably why i played through 77% of the spidey game in literally four days by virtue of doing absolutely nothing else in my free time) (i’m taking a break for the sake of my hands but maybe i should go keep playing lol)

i know some people like the dragon and i’ve added it to my “flash trans” list but in the context of stories about flash over the past ten years i really am not interested, and this coming from someone who read eragon 9 times in middle school and grew up reading mostly high fantasy and dragon books. i just. don’t want it. not by the writers currently going at least. maybe if it was someone else or if i knew it would be anything more than a future of soldier boy alcohol football crap lmfao

#nadia reads comics #anyway if anyone has recs for pre-2000s issues that focus on flash i would like that #i have read the prom story though i like that one... nuance...#not interested in the hobgoblin comics either i think those fucked up his character #flash: calls sha shan a wench #me: literally who the fuck is this cause it's not flash

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modern-inheritance · 3 years

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Modern Inheritance: Limits

Summary: “Brom, I just want them back! I don’t want anyone else to die and I want them back!” “I know, kid.” “…I hate this fucking war.” “…Yeah. Me too.” Everyone has a limit on what they can endure without cracking under the strain. Some people can move that limit when they must, push themselves a little further to shoulder more so that others don’t have to take it on or see them hurting. But often it’s those people who break the hardest when their limit is finally reached.

~~~

Arya stared up at the plaster coated stone of the embassy ceiling. The events of the last twenty four hours played over and over in her mind, threatening to drown out her attempts to rest.

Ajihad was dead. The man everyone had been so sure would lead them to the gates of Urû’baen was gone.

Even after a lifetime of loss, Arya felt Ajihad’s death hit particularly hard.

The man was a genius strategist and unparalleled negotiator. Under his guidance the Varden had not only survived but thrived even as Galbatorix increased his campaign against them.

That wasn’t all. He was not just a military leader. Ajihad had been a personal friend to Arya, Fäolin and Glenwing. Despite being decades younger than the elves, the fallen commander always kept his eye out for them and encouraged all three to speak openly to him if any problems arose. He was kind, just and one of the most honorable men Arya had met during the entire hellish war.

Unbidden, the memory of one of the last occasions Arya had spent one on one time with the Varden’s leader crept into her mind.

It felt like months had already passed, but just over two weeks ago Ajihad had strode into Arya’s tiny room in the medical wing with a thermos of her favorite tea balanced on a fresh set of her fatigues in one hand and a packet of notes in the other. Arya had expected him to give a few short condolences and exchange hurried niceties before launching into a formal debriefing about her captivity, the events that led to it, and the information that she had either collected or divulged during that time. It was procedure, after all, and with the Urgals army fast approaching Arya understood that there would be little time for anything but the necessities.

But the Varden’s leader did nothing of the sort. Instead, using mugs borrowed from the cabinet of the nurse’s station, Ajihad sat and shared tea while he talked with the recently revived elf. They sat together, Ajihad somehow still looking regal and powerful while relaxing in a ratty old chair and Arya sitting cross legged on the edge of the hospital bed, barefoot and shirtless but very grateful for the pants and sports bra that provided more protection than a the hospital’s light pants and open backed shirt.

Ajihad spent well over an hour telling her of the things that had gone on since she last left with Saphira’s egg. Everything from an incident where Coop, the one legged veteran who owned the Varden’s traveling bar, had used his prosthetic to knock out the instigator of a drunken brawl, to the Ingeitum clan’s recent efforts to restart production of small tanks and new artillery, was discussed. It was informal, relaxing almost, and for Arya it brought an almost desperately welcome break from the constant questions about her state of mind and the well meant but invasive queries about her captivity and torture.

The tea had long since been finished when Ajihad paused, the boyish grin left from telling of Coop’s improvised assault fading from his lips. He steepled his fingers and settled his elbows on his knees before asking if Brom had told her about the current situation between the Varden and the elves. When Arya answered in the affirmative, an edge creeping into her tone, he simply nodded. He knew that she would do everything possible to put relations back in order.

Still. She could see the questions in his eyes.

He didn’t ask them. Instead, Ajihad gave her sincere condolences on the deaths of Fäolin and Glenwing. He did not apologize for their deaths, nor did he dither on about what could have been or should have been done, but he recounted their strengths and character, how much they meant to specific people in the Varden, and how much their support had meant to him and Nasuada during the early years of his leadership. It was heartfelt, and held no awkward silence or uncertainty as to how to address their deaths. Ajihad knew the importance of acknowledging their loss, while also understanding Arya’s need for privacy in processing their deaths.

As he took his leave, Ajihad pulled three objects from the pocket of his vest and gently folded Arya’s fingers over them. The subdued gleam of two hammered steel badges, bearing the Varden’s seal and hanging from black ribbons, met her gaze when she carefully revealed the gifts. Under them, another medal, plated in dull brass with a sky blue ribbon, detailed a wolf leaping over a wall of snarled barbed wire.

As she tilted the medals in her hand, Arya’s breath caught in the back of her throat. Etched carefully into the metal so that they became clear when light shifted, the glyphs that she, Glenwing and Fäolin had chosen for the motto of their tiny special ops unit shined back at her.

With a sudden lurch Arya sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, chest aching.

Even in their deaths, Ajihad had provided Fäolin and Glenwing permanent proof that though they were not human, they would always be a part of the Varden. It was a thought that Ajihad turned to solid fact during his time as leader, ensuring that the elves felt accepted and trusted in the fight against Galbatorix. It was why losing him felt like losing a another part of the family Arya had found in the Varden’s ranks. A family that was quickly shrinking as the conflict reached the start of it’s crescendo with Eragon and Saphira’s arrival.

At the thought of family Arya’s mind turned to Nasuada. Barely into adulthood and carrying the same strength and wit that Ajihad often displayed, Nasuada’s love for her father was obvious. The two doted on each other as much as they butted heads, stubborn and unyielding in their conviction to help the Varden despite the danger.

If only I had been faster. She still couldn’t shake the sound of the young woman’s wail that reverberated through the tunnels. Even in the warren of passages that the Urgals had escaped through she had heard the agonized sound clearly. I should have used magic to drive the Urgals back. Then maybe Ajihad, Murtagh and the others would have gotten out.

Arya tightened her grip on the sheets, feeling her nails dig into her palms through the material. No. I can’t do this now. She squeezed her eyes shut and forced the lump in her throat down. Took several slow, deep breaths and settled back into the bed. There’s too much to do, too much at stake. Doubt and grief can come later. We’ll mourn later.

Right now, sleep. Then take the day one step at a time. The Council meeting tomorrow. Prep for travel back to Ellesméra. Keep an eye on Eragon and Saphira, make sure no one tries anything while we’re in chaos. Make sure the Council doesn’t try to steamroll Brom’s advice.

She breathed in again, closed her eyes. Loosened the fists she had made and forced her tired body to relax as she let it out. The tightness in her throat hadn’t gone away fully, and the heavy feeling in her chest remained. But it could wait. It would have to wait.

Keep on keeping on. It’s all we can do.

Resigned to sleep yet still uneasy, the elf subconsciously rolled over in the bed and reached out for the comforting, familiar warmth of Fäolin’s body beside hers.

Her hand fell through open air to land on cold, empty sheets.

Arya’s eyes snapped open.

~~~

Brom rubbed his face, chewing once again on the stem of his empty pipe. Arya had banned him from smoking in the embassy, but he was in no mood leave his room, much less go outside.

A heavy shroud covered Tronjheim in the wake of Ajihad’s death earlier that day. People were openly crying in the tunnels and crowded together for solidarity in their grief. The Rider didn’t want to be drawn into it. Instead he preferred to reflect on his emotions and the events alone with a shot of strong bourbon and his pipe. Sometimes one or two close friends were welcome, but the number of people he counted as such had dwindled over the course of the war till less than a handful remained.

Brom sucked in a breath through the pipe, tasting the remnants of his years of smoking in the wood. He hadn’t known Ajihad all that well, but the man made quite an impression on him the times that they had met face to face as well as when the two exchanged letters about the Varden. Brom found his decisions sound and his leadership to be well in line with the values that the Varden had been founded on. His death was a blow to the group for sure, both in a strategic sense and an emotional one.

The question of who would take over the Varden now haunted the Rider’s mind. Brom had been almost completely out of contact for the fifteen years he watched over Eragon in Carvahall, never mind the handful of years he spent infiltrating Morzan’s mansion. He had no idea who would be best to succeed Ajihad, but knew one thing: the Council was not to be trusted with the final decision.

Brom growled in quiet frustration. In his opinion a majority of the current Council were a bunch of power hungry, manipulative jackasses.

But still…the Council was an important part of the Varden’s structure. Without them t–

Brom bolted to his feet, chair clattering to the ground as a ragged scream ripped through the embassy. The Rider was out the door and in the hall when a resounding crash followed not a moment later.

Brom staggered as Arya’s door opened easily, fully expecting it to be locked when he jammed his shoulder against it. He stumbled into the darkened room and stopped, feeling a twinge of tightness in his chest as he took in the somewhat familiar scene.

Arya was sitting on the floor below a fresh hole in the plaster that hid the pipes and utilities anchored to the stone walls. Her shoulders, littered with angry red and raw scars that peeked out from the loose collar of her nightshirt, shuddered every few moments. Her left hand clenched over her face to hide her eyes while her lips pressed tight together to prevent any hint of sound.

Her right hand was limp at her knee, torn and bloodied. Deep bruises already bloomed at her first two knuckles where skin still remained.

Brom carefully stepped over scattered chips of plaster and sank to his knees in front of the crumpled elf. “Hey now…” Arya’s jaw clenched tighter and she turned her face away from him at his soft words, still covering her eyes. “Don’t do this, girl. We’ve talked about this.” Gently but firmly, the Rider grasped the woman’s left wrist and tugged.

A long second passed as Brom kept up the pressure, feeling the silent trembling through the limb until she finally dropped her hand. Arya looked up at him through the tears that streaked her face.

“There we go.” He gave her a soft smile. Eragon was his son, it was true. But family reached further than blood, and he’d be damned if he didn’t see the woman before him as his daughter. He had watched her grow from a small child, eager to fight in the name of her people, to a woman that now endured a multitude of wounds in the hope that her deeds would lead to a better future for all the races.

It wasn’t the first time he saw her like this. Wasn’t the first time he had consoled her after years, decades of pushing aside her own feelings for the sake of others, for the sake of the war, finally shattered through her carefully constructed walls. She had seen him the same way before as well. They both knew it was not likely it would be the last.

So he did what he had done before. What they both had done. “Don’t hold back, girl. I’m right here.”

Arya shuddered. Squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. But she didn’t resist when Brom pulled her into his arms.

Instead she gave a choked cry, seized a fistful of his shirt, and sobbed hard into his shoulder.

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