#like???? I knew the break in was probably most definitely Nessa

[ghostofcrow]

Management: Roll out the new protocols! Go! Go! Go!

#I've been rereading SL and noticing some things I didn't previously #like management's initial shock and the small implication that they may have tried they're version of exposure therapy before #they really said damn this bitch fixing our robots for free #solar lunacy #ALSO I COMPLETELY MISSED THE SECURITY GUARD THING THE FIRST TIME???? #like???? I knew the break in was probably most definitely Nessa #but ig I somehow skipped over the fact her application was denied #this is why we reread

[tact-and-impulse]

Holiday fic for @shepherds-of-haven! Thanks for the deadline extension. I hope I’m not too late! More under the cut or on AO3.

midwinter depths

It all started with an innocent conversation, Lavinet asking what they were planning to wear for the Wintersun Gala. The confused, collective answer was: what gala? After some back-and-forth, it became apparent that the Diminished-majority members of the newest government agency had not been invited to the illustrious holiday celebration. The reactions were varied, but they eventually came to one conclusion. Couldn’t they host a competing, more inclusive, and most importantly, better party? Certainly not as fancy, but in terms of community outreach, it would be far superior.

Responsibilities were dealt, and by dawn, the Shepherds set out to prepare.

***

The bus was late. Croelle adjusted his hat and clenched his teeth. Another inconvenience, just the latest obstacle to his work. The shelter’s glass panes looked very fragile and tempting at the moment, but ultimately, he didn’t move from his current seat on the metal bench.

A tall woman approached the bus stop, ashen hair pulled into a high ponytail to reveal slightly pointed ears. Her hazel eyes glinted with the iladrin, and one hand carried a bag of groceries. She checked her wristwatch, which sparkled with miniscule gems, and stopped at the other end of the bench. A strong wintry gust blew past, rattling the shelter. Heavy silence descended upon them.

“If you’re waiting for the bus, you might as well walk to your destination.” He intoned.

“Excuse me?” Her polished voice was more amused than affronted.

“It’s been twenty minutes. I hope you don’t have anywhere urgent to be.”

“And why are you still here?” She retorted.

He lifted the brim of his hat, to look at her again. Pale brows, an aquiline nose, a thin mouth colored by dark mauve lipstick. Handsome, he supposed. “Are you a Shepherd?” He had dragged his line of sight away from her face to the embroidered hound on her coat.

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “Dragged into it, really. Speaking of which...” She handed him a blue and silver flyer, detailing games, raffles, and a potluck dinner. “We’re hosting a party tonight at our headquarters. Ten danars admission, though I’m not sure whether it’ll be enforced. It’s mostly for the rest of the Shepherds, and their friends and families.”

“Is that what your bag is for?” He turned his attention to her purchased items.

“Oh, I don’t cook for groups. But I was assigned to buy ingredients for punch and I’m very good at making vytas.” She rummaged through a variety of fruits, before removing a jar of honey and admiring the color in the weak morning light. “I’m picky about my ingredients. No alcohol though, to be palatable for Mages like us.”

“I’m not a Mage. And I don’t eat fruit.”

She tilted her head, stepping in his direction. He flinched, as her gaze ran over him in obvious scrutiny. “How are you still alive?”

This close, he was able to see her hair clip. Three birds in flight, carved out of lacquered wood. He evaded her question. “For the same reasons anyone else is.”

She didn’t respond to that, still analyzing and trying to puzzle him out. Definitely, this Mage was a strange one. He hadn’t heard of any such figure in the Shepherds, but he could always use his resources to find out. She pivoted away from him, putting her jar back. “So, are you going to attend?”

“I have work. Why? I’m not your friend or family. Are you desperate for my company?”

“No.” She easily replied. He refused to feel a twinge of disappointment. “I only want to make sure that my effort pays off.”

“You hate holidays, don’t you?”

Her slight smile became brittle. “Do you only ask questions and never answer them?”

A short, derisive laugh escaped him. “Part of the job.” Wait, what was he doing? Conversing, letting down his guard, still sitting here instead of headed to his next assignment. He might have suspected she was an Enchanter if it weren’t for the wristwatch. The pearly face bore the symbol of the Shifters, the points and curls in fine etching.

“And what is your job?”

“You’re a nosy woman.”

“I prefer ‘curious’.”

“There’s such a thing as being too curious for your own good.”

“I’m not particularly interested in being good.”

He grabbed her slender hand, and she emitted a startled noise as he pulled her towards him. He lowered his voice, speaking into one tapered ear. “Interested in being bad then?”

She was perfectly still for a moment, her pulse rapid under his fingertips, and then, she roughly pulled away. Her eyes locked him in a deadpan stare. “That’s another question, and for this one, I’ll follow your example and decline to answer.”

“Hmph.” Determinedly looking past her form, he spotted a van turning the corner, the Shepherds’ emblem on the hood to mark its status as a government vehicle. “There’s your ride.”

She followed his line of sight and blinked. “Oh. So it is. Would you like to come along? The driver’s my kin, and he won’t mind.”

“I’d rather not.” He scowled, standing and brushing himself off. “Goodbye.”

“Well, if your work allows it, feel free to stop by tonight’s dinner. I don’t have to remind you to try the vytas.” She pointedly lifted her bag and then laid a hand upon her lapels. “You can ask for me, Zoegea. And you are…?”

He grunted. “Croelle.” And with that, he walked away before the van arrived. Minutes later, he wondered how he could be so foolish to tell her his name. Just for that, he had to pry more information out of her. He crumpled the flyer in his pocket but it stayed there.

***

The smell of baking bread was one of the best things in the world. Trouble knelt down, to peer into the oven. The rolls were puffy and golden-brown, nearly ready to eat. There was something nostalgic about waiting and watching, like he was five again and his mother was cooking in their tiny kitchen.

A rustle of movement caught his attention and he met bright amber eyes as his partner mirrored his position. “Hey, so the mashed potatoes should be done soon. What’s next?”

“We should be good for now. Thanks, Senna.” He grinned.

“No problem! So, what’re you doing?”

“Just checking on the rolls. Best part of being on the team in charge of side dishes.” It was always enjoyable to mold the balls of dough in his floured hands. He splayed his fingers over the warm glass. “It takes me back to when I was a kid. My mum made her own bread.” Right now, the yeasty aroma of the dinner rolls was just like the one that permeated the cozy apartment of his childhood.

“So did mine!” She eagerly shared the similarity. “Not that the Westwood bakery’s was bad, but I always liked hers best.”

“Yeah, that’s how I feel!”

She rocked back on her heels, her tanned face flushed. “I actually remember my mom’s recipe, so I bake now and then. It’s not exactly the same though.”

“But it’s something. I couldn’t read before my own died.” His memory of her was vague. She had pinned her hair when washing other people’s clothes, her sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Her hair had been blond like his, but her eyes were a warm brown. Her voice was sweet though it was harder to recall now. Her scent was the easiest: clean linen and a touch of spiced apples. Other than that, he didn’t even have a photograph. “Wish I knew how she did it.”

“Maybe, we can figure it out. Or at least, get pretty close.” She suggested. “We can bake multiple batches and narrow it down from there, based on what you tell me.”

“Trial and error, huh?” He chuckled. “I like the sound of that! When should we start?”

“Probably sometime in the new year. When are you available?”

“Don’t worry about me; I’ll find the time. Just text me and I’ll be there. Do you have my number?”

“Yup, I saved it when you recruited me.” She flashed a thumbs-up. “I’ve just never had to text you before, because I keep running into you.”

“Hey now, you’re the Diviner.” He joked. “You’re not using magic to find out which bar I go to?”

“Trouble, you always go to The Burning Crown.”

“It’s the free drink Nessa gives me every time. Actually, I think I should probably switch it up. Too many fights break out in there, and uh, I’m trying to follow your advice.” If she hadn’t stopped him, his old gang would have been too glad to bring him down to their level. That wasn’t what a Shepherd did, and having her near was a good reminder.

“That’s great!” Her smile was wide and honest. “I know it’s hard, but I’m really happy you’re trying. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. You can do it, I believe in you.”

He coughed, as an excuse to stop staring. “Well, you’ve shown me that talking out of a brawl is an option.” Then, he winced. “Ah, shit, I gotta stand up again. My legs are killing me.” He stood, his thighs burning, and offered a hand to her. She grasped it, and as soon as she was upright again, she quickly squeezed.

“I don’t think I’ve had a Wintersun like this before. Today’s been so much fun.”

“Me too. It’s always fun spending time with you.”

She looked at him through her dark lashes, and he felt suspended in place. Then, with a sudden draft, Riel stepped in, carrying a clipboard.

“Are we on schedule?”

Trouble noticed she had let go, and he crossed his arms, pressing his empty hand against his body. “For sure, we are. Even though we won’t be serving until six tonight, we’ll be ready by then.”

“Parties usually start late, anyway.” Senna added, with a sparkle in her eyes.

Riel pinched the bridge of his nose. “And guests arrive early. Regardless, if you need anything from the supply team, tell me before five so I can accommodate you accordingly.”

“Understood!” A whistling ringtone began to play, and she removed her phone from her apron pocket. “Oh, good. I was waiting for them to call back. Sorry, this will be just a few minutes. But if not, I’ll see you later. And I’ll text you about our meeting, Trouble!”

“Looking forward to it!” He replied as she sprinted out.

Riel’s cool gaze shifted between Trouble and the swinging door. “A meeting?”

“Yeah, we’re going to bake bread together. Isn’t that nice? She’s a great friend.” In response, he gave such a long sigh, that Trouble demanded. “What’s eatin’ you?”

“Never mind.” He was already walking away.

“Oi! Just tell me!”

***

The knife moved easily in his grasp, as he sliced the parsnips. If the rest of his family could witness what he was doing, they’d be delivering the full brunt of their disapproval. Before today, he also thought he was better suited to security detail, but he had been convinced to join the rest of his friends. His squad insisted they’d be fine, Trouble had extolled the benefits, and a particular pair of deep brown eyes had been disappointed as the owner asked. “Are you not going to cook with us?”

Thus, here he was, preparing roasted vegetables for an impromptu party.

His partner for this task had her own tray, and she carefully sprinkled garlic salt over the halves of looked like miniature cabbages. When he brought over the parsnips, she glanced up at him. “Oh, you’re already done? Thank you, Blade!”

He stiffly nodded. “Do you need any assistance?”

“No, I’m okay. These are ready, so I’ll put them in the oven. You can get a drink.” A quick smile, and she was off to the adjacent kitchen. The storage room wasn’t as warm, and soundlessly, he crept out. He returned before she did, with two water bottles retrieved from the cooler in the hallway.

Wintersun was just another day, or at least, that was what he believed before. Now, far from the place of his upbringing, he was often out of his comfort zone. However, he didn’t mind learning more about the world, outside of the family business. And today had been very pleasant.

When Captain Enris walked past, he held out the extra bottle, nudging it against her hand.

She blinked. “Is this for me?”

“Yes.” He raised his brows. “Take it. You haven’t been hydrating.”

“It slipped my mind.” She admitted but accepted the water. From under her sleeve, her tattoo peeked out, the inky scrawl of Kettish script unconventional but poetic. She removed the lid and drank deeply; her mouth was red and gleaming.

He abruptly dropped his gaze. “You have the tendency to put yourself last. It’s not sustainable, so you should remember to look after yourself as well.”

Her laughter rang out, clear and crisp. “Ultan said something like that, a long time ago.”

She had never mentioned the name before. He tensed, the plastic bottle crackling in his grip. “Who’s Ultan?”

“He owned a little bookshop in Courtshore. I worked for him, after Drummond’s Point was…wiped out. It was my longest job, about two years, and I really enjoyed it. He, um, found some old magic books for me; that’s how I started learning magic.”

“He must have liked you.”

She hummed, considering the possibility. “I think so. He was a Norm but his late wife was a hedgewitch, so he always kept me safe. If anyone was suspicious, he said I was his granddaughter sent to live with him. I’m not sure if they really bought it though…”

He was a tiny bit happier that the connection was familial, although he was unsure how to feel, being compared to someone who was like her grandfather. He decided on tentative compliance. “Would you have stayed with him?”

“I don’t know. He fired me, you see.”

“What? Why would he? You’re…a good worker.” Damn, that sounded utterly inadequate. As if two words could describe how important her presence had become to the Shepherds.

“Well, I’m glad you think so.” She smiled. “But what he thought is still a mystery. He just gave me the week’s wages and told me I wasn’t welcome anymore. So, I just kept moving, and I never heard from him again.”

His anger on her behalf lingered but he kept his response neutral. “It’s his loss and our gain. I’m glad you’re here in Haven. It would not be the same without you.”

He was certainly not as eloquent as she was, but he hoped the Enchanter was more at ease. Her shoulders lowered a fraction, and she rested her back against the wall. “That’s kind of you to say.” Fondness colored her expression.

“Does it surprise you?”

She laughed again, and he welcomed the sound. “No, not at all! You’ve always been kind. Strict, but you truly care. You’ve never led us astray, despite how you’re not a big fan of Wintersun.”

“Was I obvious?”

“Compared to everyone else, just a little bit.” She pinched her fingers together. “But I noticed you’re not frowning as much. Are you having fun?”

“I’ll take the quiet now, before the crowds arrive.” He wryly answered.

“It’s close enough!” She set her half-empty bottle down and clapped. “Let’s finish seasoning the rest. I was thinking of having lunch afterwards; how about you?”

He deliberately paused. “That sounds agreeable. Do you have anywhere in mind?”

“Tallys mentioned a sandwich shop the other day. I can call ahead for pick-up.” She was already pivoting.

“Linaria.”

At the rare use of her given name, she immediately turned, lips parted.

“Let me see the menu first.” He grumbled.

With another giggle, she offered her phone. “The next thing we should work on is your pickiness.”

***

The free chair was inviting, and Chase took it, sliding over to the other person at the raffle table. “Hey, sunshine. How’s the sprain?”

“Better today, but not enough.” The newly incapacitated Battle-Mage scowled reproachfully at her left foot. “So I’m still stuck here.”

“You wanted to cook?”

“Even if I could, that’d be better than tearing up tickets.” She snorted. Her fingers pulled at the paper chain, twisting at the perforated end and depositing a fresh one in his open hand. She kept the other half, flicking it into a large glass jar. Valeriana had let her hair down, which was a first. Wine red and pin straight, it framed her face and grazed her elbows. She seemed more vulnerable, her features relaxed and youthful. He idly wondered who else had seen her like this. She must have sensed his regard, because her gaze shifted to him. “Did you need something else?”

“Nope, just hanging here and watching the rest of the hospitality team. Mostly, it’s Lavinet though.” The heiress had taken charge over the decorating business and she was ordering some of the newbies around to meet her standards. Embroidered white tablecloths, silver streamers, tea lights, and authentic pine trees for ambience. It all sounded magnificently meticulous, and he was trying to avoid her, just in case. “My side’s done with the party games.”

“Yeah? What have you got?”

“Elements, dreadnoughts, pin the tail on the ahfuri for the kids. We dug up some sui boards for the older folk. Anyone with spare change can play intrigue or Angels and Devils. And darts. Bet you’d like that.” As strong as she was, he knew she valued precision most of all. It was also what he liked about her, that she could run rampant on their missions given half a chance but opted for control.

He was interested in what she was like, if she lost it.

She leaned back in her seat, the motion steering him to the present again, and cracked a smile. “That depends on what prizes you have.”

“Ah, and like with all games, your prize is based on your stakes. Anything from chocolate truffles to plushy Shepherd hound toys to gift cards. Or I can always surprise you.”

“The bar is high.” She raised her brows but her eyes glittered at the prospect. Good.

“I’ll do my best, gorgeous. So...what has our dear organization obtained for the raffle prize?”

“You’ll have to win and find out for yourself.”

“Fair enough. Let’s hope this is a lucky one.” With a flourish, he brought the ticket to his lips in a light kiss and pocketed it. Then, he gestured towards the fall of her hair. “No bun or braids today?”

One hand tucked a stray lock behind her ear. “I want less tension for now, I’ll tie it back later.”

“Gotcha.” In the meantime, he’d appreciate the view.

“Caine asked me the same thing too.” The kid was eager to help out, and at the other end of the hall, he was stringing icy blue lights on one of the smaller trees. “He said it was nice.”

“He’s right, it suits you. You look lovely.” And he meant it, not even winking.

She held his gaze, about to bite back, but she paused. The moment stretched, before she quietly replied. “Thanks.”

His skin itched and he rubbed the back of his neck. Huh. She was attractive, it was hard not to notice since the day they met. It was only that she was a lot more so, because of how intimate her appearance was. It was lust, he decided, and he could deal with lust. Yeah.

“Well,” Chase cleared his throat and ruffled her hair. To his pleasant surprise, it was very soft. “I’m off to check on my people. Keep getting stronger, sunshine.”

“Uh…right.” Her dark eyes were wide, and he couldn’t look away.

“I’ll bring you a plate of food at dinner, and then, we can swing by the darts. Sound good?”

“Sure, I guess, mm.” She didn’t blush easily, but she was clearly flustered, blinking rapidly and tripping over her words. Cute. Her long eyelashes fluttered and he was transfixed.

Then, there was a clatter, and they both whipped towards the sound. Caine had dropped a third of his lights. Wincing, he called out. “Sorry!”

“Are you hurt?” Valeriana asked.

“No, I’m okay! How’re you?” He was giving them a trepidatious expression.

Oh. Chase was still touching her head. Slowly, he let go and forced a two-fingered salute. “We’re fine here! You’re doing good, little man!”

“I’ll see if I can help him out.” She muttered.

“You don’t have to, I’ll send a couple of my guys to check on him. Get some rest before tonight, alright?”

She didn’t seem fully appeased but she grabbed her ticket chain and reluctantly nodded, echoing. “See you tonight.”

“It’s a date. Later, Valia.”

If she protested at her shortened name, he didn’t hear it. He strolled along, starting to whistle. After making sure no one else was around, he glanced down at his hand and grinned.

***

The pressure cooker must have disappeared into an adjacent plane of existence. Red sighed as he closed the latest cupboard. “Nope, not here either.”

“Seriously?!” Alcea popped her head up, from behind the counter. Her golden curls bounced, her gray eyes brimming with dismay. “Damn it, where else could it possibly be?”

“At this point, I’m wondering if we should go to the nearest mall and buy another one.”

“Yeah, but we just bought this last week! Riel would throw a fit if we went back. Anyway, it should still be in the box!” She dove again and he smiled, leaning over the granite.

“Or we could always just do it the old-fashioned way. There are plenty of pots that no one else is using.”

“I guess we can.” She grouched. “It’d just be easier to make vegetable curry when we don’t have to be watching the stove the entire time.” She pulled away from the clutter of miscellaneous cooking utensils, and agonizingly rose to her feet. “Augh, my back!”

“Are you alright?” He rushed around to help, but she shook her head.

“Only out of shape, but I’m alive.”

“Good, because I still need you.” He grinned, hiding his relief. “Who else is going to taste test?”

“Uh, nobody, because that’s my job for today? A privilege of being on the entrée team.”

“Just one?”

“One of many.” She smirked. “But I’m not giving up on our missing item! I’ll send a text to the group chat.” She dug out her phone and her thumbs flew across the screen, her charm bracelet jangling with its trio of silver birds. As they walked through the corridors, he kept a close eye, ensuring she wasn’t bumping into anything.

Their allotted kitchen space was looking rather colorful. Onions, garlic, ginger, cauliflower, peas, cans of coconut milk. Jars of spices were lined up on one end, their labels in large print. And in the midst of the ingredients, an open book waited, displaying the pages of the recipe.

He rolled up his sleeves. “So, we’re making two batches: mild and spicy.”

“Yup. Oh! Should we ask Mimir for input on the latter?”

“If she ever shows, and doesn’t she have a high tolerance? Like, she inhales what would kill everyone else?”

“Right…maybe not.”

“It was a nice thought.” He squeezed her shoulder. Years ago in Capra, he wouldn’t have imagined this scenario.

They hadn’t been close then; they shared mutual friends, but he was only aware of her as ‘the other Conjurer who was always in the stacks late at night’. Conversely, she knew him as ‘the guy who tried to descend the university into Hael itself’, but mercifully, she didn’t blame him at all. In fact, the first thing she asked upon their formal introduction was how he did it. The rest was history. The Shepherds had inherited a massive library from a Mage, and on their coinciding off days, the two of them claimed a study room and filled a whiteboard with spell runes and equations. She was bright and vivacious and daring; his younger self had made ignorant mistakes, and now, he could add overlooking her to the list.

After plenty of scrambling and bitten-off curses, some of which were Elvish, their main dish was bubbling. She ladled a spoonful, blew, and sampled. Her eyes shut as she broadly smiled.

“That good, huh?”

“Don’t take my word for it. Come on, try for yourself!” She grabbed a new spoon, taking from the top. Holding the steaming mixture to his mouth, she ordered. “Open wide!”

He chuckled. “Sharing a privilege?” However, he accepted. It was delicious, fragrant with coconut and bold with delayed heat. He ran his tongue across his lips to catch any left.

Her gaze didn’t waver. “Nope, it’s a second to see you eat something I helped make.”

“I hope your expectations were met.”

“Exceeded, for the entire morning actually. I love working with you.” She was incredibly close, her cheeks rosy. He tilted his head-

“Hello?” A timid voice called, and they both spun around to see Shery, standing at the threshold. Her hands shook as she lifted a large, familiar box. “Um…I saw your text to the group. Were you looking for this?”

“That’s it! Thank you sooo much, Shery!” Alcea bounded forward, relieving the other blond of the pressure cooker. “Where did you find it?”

“On our side.” She pushed the nose bridge of her glasses. “It was behind one of the trash cans.”

“We really appreciate it.” Red smiled. “We’ll save a bowl for you later. Mild, of course.”

She seemed very reassured. “I’ll look forward to it, and I’ll hold some fairy bread for you two. See you soon.” Just as silently as she arrived, she hurried off.

He peered at the box. “I’ve never used a pressure cooker before. Have you?”

“Not for curry.” She conceded, lowering it to the floor for unpacking. “But here, let me show you the basics!”

Settling in for the explanation, he watched her animated face with pleasure. This was a privilege he would claim for himself.

***

The van slowed to a stop for the red light, so Ayla propped her feet up on the dashboard. “Think a lot of people are going to show up?” They’d been traversing Haven for a second round, buying additional supplies and plastering the last of the flyers.

“It’s cheap food and entertainment. So, probably a fair amount.” Her companion answered, sliding his hands around the steering wheel. His green gaze didn’t move from the road. “Are you inviting anyone?”

“Who would I invite? You’ve been in Haven longer than I have.”

He huffed. “Sure, I have a head start of six months, but I’ve been away on missions. Some of them were with you.”

“As if I could forget.” The light changed, and the van continued on its path.

She had hoarded every piece of information she learned about him. He was an Elementalist like her, but his skillset was well-rounded, with a preference for ice. The tattoo under his collarbone was of three birds, belonging to a species with a distinctive call, which his clan had taken for their own name as well. That song had not been heard in decades though, and he always shut down when it came to the fate of Vale. He couldn’t join the military because he was Diminished, so he had been a mercenary for a number of years. He liked his khav strong and bitter, and his toast just this side of burnt. Alright, the last bit was extraneous, but it wasn’t like she wanted to make him breakfast or anything.

“Hey, E.”

“Yeah?” He responded in kind.

“What’s eggnog taste like?”

“Did they not have any in the desert?”

“It has raw eggs, right?” She glanced behind her, to the milk jugs and egg cartons they had purchased. The other bags had remained stationary, teeming with chocolate, peppermint sticks, and whipped cream cans. “It would spoil in the heat.”

The corner of his mouth pulled into a half-smile. “True. Did you ever have custard?”

“Something like that, a milk and rice pudding my parents gave me once.” She remembered the little bowl in her hands, how she licked the spoon clean. Her mother and father, grinning as they watched her try the dessert for the first time.

“It’s similar, but more drinkable. You add cinnamon or nutmeg, and sometimes, alcohol. If you don’t like it, you can just stick to the cocoa.”

“I’ll try both.” She countered. “Do you add spices to the cocoa too?”

“Some people do. I like mine with cinnamon and a pinch of chili powder.” Interesting. Another thing she learned.

The car in front suddenly braked, and she swore. The van lurched, Erigeron’s solid arm bracing over her front. As they halted, way too close to be comfortable, his other fist slammed the horn. Up ahead, a couple scurried across the road. Noticeably, there was no pedestrian crossing.

“Tourists.” She scoffed.

“Too busy looking around them to care about anyone else.” He was still touching her, and he slowly pulled away, studying her face. “You okay?”

“I’m good.” Her pulse was elevated from the near hit. The intensity of his stare made her shift in her seat. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” He twisted around to examine the back, grimacing. “Hope nothing’s broken.”

“That would really suck.”

They started moving again, and she glanced at the speedometer. He must have caught her wary expression, because his rough baritone added. “Don’t worry. I’ll take it slow.”

Damn, that was really smooth. She fixed her gaze out the window, trying to think of icicles and snowstorms.

It was a matter of minutes before they parked at headquarters. As soon as he removed the key from ignition, a familiar figure entered the garage.

“Oh, wonderful. I was just about to call you, darlings.” Lavinet tossed her hair and marched out to meet them. “Have you procured what’s left on our list?”

“Sure did.” He grunted and removed his seatbelt. “Check for yourself before we bring them in.”

“No need, I trust you two.”

Unloading was going to take longer than expected; they would need multiple trips. Fortunately, nothing seemed to be leaking. Ayla took a few bags, but he stopped her from grabbing the next.

“You can go inside first.”

“I can take more.”

He firmly clasped her shoulder. “Nah, just come back. Everything will be here, and you must be cold.”

She was, but she nudged his side. “Hurry up, won’t you? Elementalists can still get sick.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Nevertheless, he smirked. Stupid, sexy, silver-haired Mage.

Lavinet held the door and joined her for a short distance, eyes glittering. “How was your outing?”

“O-outing?” She spluttered. “We were running an errand, that’s it.”

A lofty laugh escaped the other woman, shielded by a fur-lined glove. “You aren’t fooling me at all. I noticed those little touches. I expect every detail over appetizers, dear.” With a wink and wiggle of her fingers, the heiress glided off to her next task.

“Hey!” Her protest went ignored. Burrowing her face in her scarf, she redirected an air current to cool down. It wasn’t enough.

***

The door opened, and Halek glanced towards the direction of the noise. “You’re late-” He stopped, noticing that while the newcomer also had violet eyes, she wasn’t who he was expecting. Black hair was styled in a braided crown, with a finger’s width of white weaving down the left side. One hand gently closed the door, as she hastily ducked her head.

“Sorry, I’m not Briony. We switched last minute. I’ll be helping you instead.” She went to the sink, quickly scrubbing her hands.

“Well, I’ll take any help right now. What’s your name?”

“Kalmia.” She even pronounced it the way a Hunter would, the first syllable in the back of her throat. But she was a Mage, apparent enough from her eyes, and her hair color automatically disqualified her from being a pure-blooded Hunter.

“Are you a Battle-Mage too?”

“No, I’m a Healer.”

“That’s better. Briony means well, but she tends to break things and I need the stove today.”

The corner of her mouth lifted, as she turned off the faucet. “I read the menu. It does seem like a lot…”

“It’s why we’re the first ones in the kitchen.” The pot roast was going to take most of the day to cook, and the glazed ham was a new addition to his repertoire. But he was excited to try.

She joined him in peeling the carrots and potatoes, introducing herself. She had been adopted by Hunters in Maj; he vaguely recognized the town as a former refugee campsite. After they passed, she slowly made her way to Haven. Meanwhile, this was the first year he spent beyond the largest Hunter city, The Reach. She didn’t fawn over who he was, and perhaps, that could be chalked up to how distant Maj had been. Either way, he was secretly happy.

By five, the pot roast was keeping warm in the slow cooker, and he closed the oven door on the ham. “This will be ready in a couple hours.”

“And what’s next?”

“Next, I’m going to take a nap. You can do what you want in the meantime. I’ll be in the back.”

“Oh. Alright.” She looked around, hesitant. “Um, sleep well?”

His attempt at a nod was more of a head droop. “Later.” The nearest break room had a decent couch and when he stirred awake, he felt a little better.

And the kitchen hadn’t burned down. Kalmia was taking a kettle off the stove and acknowledged his return with a little wave. Her braid had been undone, her hair falling in waves past her shoulders. “I made tea. Would you like some?”

“Sure.” He yawned. When he sat down, a steaming cup was waiting for him. The liquid was a dark gold color, still spinning gently. Used to the blends their quartermaster liked to offer, he expected sugary sweetness. Instead, this herbal tea was surprisingly mellow, like chamomile at first, before giving way to a deeper bittersweet flavor. Complex and refreshing. “This is just what I needed.”

She beamed, hands wrapped around her own cup. “It’s one of my favorites from when I was living in Leore.”

He stared at her for a few moments, before remembering to look away. “You have good taste.” His phone suddenly vibrated and he scowled at the caller ID. He let it ring, watching as the inevitable voicemail notification appeared.

“Is it a spam call?”

“Worse. My fiancé. You know, Hunters and their arranged marriages.”

“You don’t like her.”

“No, I don’t. But the other choice is to condemn everyone at home, depending on more new Hunters.”

Her expression was melancholy, and barely above a whisper, she said. “If you’re trapped, it’s not a choice at all.”

The sentiment warmed him as much as the tea did. But there was also the ring of truth in her words and the strength of memory in her distant gaze. He wondered what had happened to her, who could have hurt her. If he wanted to, he could reach across the table and pat her shoulder. Pushing the thought aside, he refilled their cups. “I have a recipe for almond cookies. It’d go well with this, next time.”

“I’d really like that. Thank you.”

The implicit promise cut through the tension, and he exhaled. “I’m free whenever. In the past, I always liked Wintersun, because I have the time to cook, eat, and sleep. Or because it has ‘sun’ in the name.” Halek dryly noted.

“Oh, that’s right. I like Wintersun too. The hanging laurel especially.” She sounded wistful. “Probably because Kalmia means laurel. But you already know that.” She added, self-conscious.

“Mm. Did your parents want you to fly?”

She laughed, for the first time that day. She seemed almost surprised by it, and tried to answer him but her giggles kept breaking through. “Me, flying? As a baby?”

Happiness suited her better than sorrow, and he started to shake with repressed laughter too, at the mental imagery of a pair frantically running after a dark-haired infant drifting away from a farmhouse. He didn’t have to think of other traditions involving laurel.

***

The icing smeared in a runny white trail, drawing a groan from Briony.

“Come on!” She glared at the sugar cookie she was currently decorating, and then at the rest of the tray she had wreaked havoc on. She thought switching to the dessert team would be more fitting to her skillset and it was, until the baking was done. Somehow, all of her miniature Shepherds appeared awkwardly proportioned at best and hideous at worst.

“Everything okay?” The kind voice meant to comfort but she only felt more ashamed. Gentian’s recreation of Tangriel’s Tower was the most impressive cake she’d ever seen, with its fudgy center and raisin-lined battlements. Also...he was really cute in an apron, with his blue-black hair gathered into a bun for convenience. Really cute, even if she was kind of jealous.

“Oh, it’s just fantastic.” She grumbled. “How do you make everything look so tasty?”

“I don’t know?” He sheepishly shrugged. “How are your-oh. Well...they’re definitely original.”

“That’s one way to put it.” Yeah, her creations stood out, compared to the cake, Tallys’s individual servings of Elvish trifles, and Shery’s traditional fairy bread. “But they should taste okay! I think...”

Gentian reached for one of the smaller cookies, intended to be one of the few replicas of herself and topped with light pink frosting and violet sprinkles for her eyes. He took a bite; she held her breath. She tried not to stare at his throat as he swallowed.

“This was your first time making them?”

“Technically, yeah. Shery read the recipe I was using and said it seemed alright. I just followed the instructions and hoped for the best. I mean, I don’t remember baking anything before.” Briony nervously laughed. Beyond the past few months, she only knew her name and the password to her phone, which had been wiped clean. The Shepherds had found her in an underground fighting ring, where he slipped inside to recruit her. The glaring lights had targeted his figure when he stepped forward as her next challenger. Unassuming at first glance, but she immediately recognized he was a skilled fighter, just by how he moved. “Anyway, what do you think?”

He smiled. “I think if the rest of the tray is just like this one, you won’t have any left at the end of tonight. It’s delicious.”

“Really?!”

“Try one for yourself.”

She chose another doughy Shepherd, a navy-colored mess, and chomped it down before he could notice. It was slightly warm, the edges crispy. Vanilla and sweet icing filled her mouth. “Ah, it’s good! I need to save that recipe…it should be in my phone’s history.”

“If you need help tracking it down, I can help.”

“That’d be great! But didn’t you only see it during this morning’s meeting?”

“It was enough.”

Now, she was certainly confused. “You memorized it in less than a minute?”

Hesitantly, he replied. “I have an eidetic memory.”

“Eidetic?” The word was unfamiliar.

“Photographic is another word. I don’t forget anything I’ve seen or experienced once.”

“Wow, that’s amazing! That’s like the opposite of my problem.” That earned her a laugh, which was encouraging. She paused. “But if you don’t forget anything, that includes things you don’t want to remember, right?”

“Yes, that’s true.” He became quiet, his thoughts obviously far away. She’d seen him like this on occasion, especially around the Ket members.

She strode around the table and as his blue gaze drifted to her, she hugged him.

“Briony?” His soft voice had dipped low, and the vibration against her cheek made her heart flutter.

“You look like you needed a hug. And Wintersun is exactly the time for hugs. Well, so is Lovelace Day, but that’s not right now!” Lovelace Day was also a long ways off, and she imagined it would be nice to spend it with him. If he agreed. “Is this okay?”

“It is.” His hand touched between her shoulder blades, with the lightest pressure. She was about to hold him tighter when there was the distinct sound of a throat clearing. Immediately, they let go of each other. Tallys stood at the door, appearing spotless despite the day’s work.

“I was about to ask if you two had finished.” She gave them a very pointed look. “But it looks like you just started. See you around.” As she spun on her heel, she was definitely smirking.

“Oops.” Briony grinned at him. He was even cuter when he blushed. “She crept up on us.”

“I should have noticed though.” He sighed but smiled when he finally met her gaze again. His expression was gentle, without a trace of sadness. “Thank you.”

“No problem. If you’d like any more hugs, just let me know.” She spread her arms in offering.

“I’ll remember.” His tattooed wrist lifted, and he quickly tugged a lock of her pink hair, his fingertips brushing her cheek. While she was still processing that, he cited a need for more powdered sugar and headed out.

Alone, she pressed her hands to her burning face. Maybe, she could pass by him under the hanging laurel later…

***

The party lasted into the late hours of the night, and by the end of it, the Shepherds were exhausted and trudging during the cleanup. The leftover prizes were fought over, though most somehow ended up in Caine’s arms, and there was enough cake remaining to bring home, so no one was going to leave unsatisfied. The laurel branches had been plucked clean, petals stuck to sleeves and clinging to mussed hair. The unanimous consensus was that it had been a success, one final fun celebration together before they began anew. And really, that was what Wintersun was all about.

#shepherds of haven #havenholiday2020 #standard disclaimer that i'm sorry if i've made mistakes

[phantomoftruth]

An Aspiring Coven Flips the Coin: Complete Edition

I figured due to things being spread out and such, it might be nice to put my recent 3 part coin flip story into a single, large post so you can read the whole thing here as a Halloween treat^^. Happy Halloween everyone!

NOTE: This story turned out very long, thus, I put it under a break. Click below to read the whole thing!

It was a Friday night, mid October, as Janice, Nessa, and Quinn huddled around the table in Janice’s locked dorm room, gazing at the magic coin with excitement and consternation. The room had its stack of text books, but they were easily dwarfed by the owners clear fixation on the occult. Books of magic and witchcraft, compendiums of folk lore, myths, and monsters filled shelves and fought with crystals and candles for space. Though for now, they simply had the lights on, showing art of fairies and creatures that ranged from wondrous to dark hanging from the walls.

Janice, the owner of the room, and the one that found the coin, clutched her occult diary to her sweater-clad chest. “So, we each flip once, and whatever we choose applies to the three of us together, good or bad, and we’ll take our turns by seniority. You both agree as well?” Janice was a 3rd year studying folk lore and mythology that hid her height with an unconscious slight hunch, and concealed her pale, shapely body with plain clothes. Her strongest feature was the wild mane of black hair that often concealed her face, spilling all over. She was the founder of the would-be coven, and while she fidgeted a bit as she spoke, her mania for the occult carried through in her voice and gleaming dark eyes that she fixed on her coven-sisters.

“Hey, I’ve got no problem,” Nessa spoke with a smirk and a casual shrug of her sun-tanned shoulders. “You’re our fearless leader, and even if we switched it around, I’d be second regardless.“ Nessa was in her second year, pursuing a liberal arts degree secondary to her appetites. She had a pear-shape to accompany her slight pudge, and knew how to work her hips for dancing and fucking. So what if she liked to eat? The guys she snagged didn’t mind her love of cooking, or her big fat ass, and her favorites always were the ones she could throw her weight around with a bit. She licked her full lips, toying with a bit of brown hair, green eyes hooded as she pet herself lightly, speaking with a bit of husk in her voice. “Besides~ Just thinking about what that thing can do is getting me warmed up.”

“Yeah! You didn’t even have to share this with us at all! Sure it’s scary, but it’s once in a lifetime! There’s no way in hell I’m passing this up!” Quinn pounded the table as she spoke, her 80s cut top with her current horror favorite, Scissor Sister on it slipping to reveal a shoulder bathed in freckles, brown eyes brimming with vigor. 18, it was her first year away from home, pursuing theater, costume design and practical effects. Sitting next to Nessa only made her flat chest and curveless body even more pronounced, as though puberty had simply skipped right by, leaving her to her freckled skin and short, shocking red hair. Nessa teased her about her lack of a bra and her lack of sex in general, but her passion for horror movies and monster make up made her passionate about her studies.

The three reached over the table, joining hands as they spoke together. “As sisters we swear.”

Sitting back, Janice took the coin, and made the first flip. “If the coin lands on heads, then grant us the power to make people into monsters. If tails, let us become monsters, each to our type.” So intoning, the occult manic flipped the coin.

It landed on tails.

The changes were steady but irresistible, and each girl was consumed by their own transformation, forgetting the world and each other as the magic took them.

Janice clutched her diary to her chest, panting as the darkness of her hair drained down and spread over her body like ink drowning paper, staining her skin into a dull black hide, and leaving her hair pale like moonlight, drained of all color. There was a chill on her that made her muscles taut and her nipples hard and every touch a tingle as her already wild hair grew like madness. Janice gasped as her hair didn’t just grow, but moved, alive and caressing her body, teasing her even as it rooted into her clothes, ripping them. A surge moved through her and the already damaged clothes were destroyed as Janice grew even taller as sleek, sinewy muscles pulsed into being. That same pulse spread to her extremities, as her fingernails became moon-colored claws, and even her toenails grew sharp and pointed. Her tongue turned black, running over gleaming, pointed teeth, while the darkness in her eyes grew even deeper. Her living hair touched her diary, and she could feel a pulse in it as well. She didn’t fully understand it yet, but all her notes on the occult, her studies of creatures, all her passion and obsession was part of what she was now, and she needed it.

Rising to her feet, Janice looked towards a full body mirror hanging on the wall, and while she now had killer abs, she was forced to duck down to see her face and shoulders. She had become some kind of black-skinned, statuesque ogress, wearing nothing but the hair on her head that even now gently swayed in a phantom breeze. Thinking about it made it stop however, and she realized she could control her hair like her body. With that, other things clicked into place. She was a predator made to stalk darkness. She felt the strength, the confidence. And her book. It gave her magic, and protected her life. She had to keep it safe, and keep filling it. The more she filled it, the more magic she would have. More power. Despite herself, the thought did make her tight pussy twitch, and a stray strand of white hair wrapped and tweaked her glossy black clit, making her shudder.

Nessa’s pussy twinged just a moment before an orgasm wracked her body with pleasure, drenching her in sweat that quickly made dark stains on her clothes, even as the crotch of her yoga pants darkened with wetness given her lack of panties. Her nose twitched, even as warmth suffused her, dazing her slightly. She was sweaty, but it felt good. Clean. Right. She smelled right. Fuckable. She stuck her tongue out to taste the scent and found herself drooling like crazy, letting her tongue loll limply. That drool pooled on her swelling chest that snapped her bra and strained her top, which turned to tatters as the change spread from her chest through her body, making everything soft and heavy and thick and ripe. Her arms were meaty now, and her stomach was round like the full moon. She couldn’t see her pussy anymore, but she could feel it, feel the waves of heat spreading to her legs and thighs as she just kept gushing which her stomach gurgled soothingly, like a stream. Nessa’s yoga pants desperately clung to life as long as they could, but suddenly snapped as her hips grew, becoming brood-bearing. Even keeping her newly weighty legs closed would require effort, naturally exposing her plump, juicy pussy and fat clit. Her ass followed suit, filling and thickening and jiggling. Doors would be a challenge in her new future.

Nessa’s pussy pulsed again, finishing her with the most drastic, monstrous changes. Her tanned skin darkened and shifted, becoming a mottled mix of earth browns,  mossy grey and swampy green, chased with orange hints of a harvest moon. The sweat on her body thickened, becoming a permanent glistening on her now hairless skin. Her nipples fattened and darkened, oozing something thick and syrupy, and her cunt followed suit, making a puddle on the dorm room carpet. Her lolling tongue grew and grew until it was frog-like, tickling her nipple, tasting her own sweet syrup. Her brown haired turned to a curly wave of Spanish moss, and all over her body, things began to grow. plants sprouted in her new hair, shelves of fungi sprouted along her back and under her heavy breasts, holding them up, and a mushroom cap, like a hat, sprouted from her head. Mycellium grew where her webbed hands and feet were on the carpet, and random plants were growing in the pool of her pussy-syrup. Whatever she was, she was ripe as a fruit, fertile and milfy as fuck, and as she came back to herself, she tested her tongue as her webbed hands roamed her body, stroking her belly and seeking her needy greedy pussy. It took some stretching, but she could reach with both hands, and despite probably weighing double what she did, her new body was plenty flexible. Perfect for breeding~. Just thinking the word made her clench as a spurt of plant life sprouted all around her.

Quinn froze as the magic washed over her body, a tingling feeling settling into her skin. Her gaze was fixed, staring into space, but she could feel her body quivering, like the strings of an instrument just waiting to start, and her face fixed into a smile. She felt the familiar feeling of hair brushing her shoulders as every other hair on her body disappeared. A fresh wave washed over her, and she tilted her head down, looking at her hand as her skin went pale, then milk-white, and flawless as porcelain. All over, she could feel touches like invisible brushes, dotting all along her body, and she despite her new strange skin, her freckles were increasing, becoming intricate patterns from her shoulders down her arms, making art of her back, and continuing to expand, forming swirling, sweeping decorations. There was a click, and Quinn came back to herself, saw her hand as lines appeared and connected, forming new joints. First the fingers, then the wrist, the elbow, the shoulder. Without seeing, she could feel her body changing, becoming a puppet body. No, a doll body. Her head lolled when the change reached her neck, giving her a look at her changing body in her old clothes. She still had a slight yielding quality to her body, but there was a definite clicking as her new body settled into place. Some kind of plastic? Soft wood? It was silly to wonder when magic was involved, probably more so when it was her body she was thinking about, but she just couldn’t resist. Not to mention her body wasn’t going to be changing on its own again anytime soon.

The magic passed over Quinn one final time, and her quivering body was freed, no longer spellbound. She went to jerk her head up from its heavy tilt, and instead had a sudden moment of the world spinning as her head detached and rolled off into her lap. Which was freaky, but kind of awesome. Looking at her body, it was one of the most beautiful pieces she’d ever seen. Her skin was ghost-white, and flawless, decorated with countless freckled spots, like it was painted by elves. Picking up her own head, she felt her hair, marveling at it as she got a look. It was a real, deep red now, silky but with some curl. As the last of the magic took root in her, she couldn’t contain her excitement. Reattaching her head was simple enough. Seemed everything was detachable. Her fingers seemed dexterous enough, and she was brimming with energy without the slightly scrap of fatigue. Not knowing anything else, she could do a lot with this. Some parts, anyway, as she eyeballed her flat chest, and a quick check downstairs with her fingers revealed her crotch to be soft and yielding enough, but dry as only a sex doll could be.

Their transformations completed, the three friends finally looked away from themselves, taking in each other’s new, monstrous forms. Janice was easily the tallest, to the point that Quinn looked like a child next to her now, including being able to lift the doll-girl with only one arm. At Nessa’s insistence, Quinn stripped as well, revealing pointed nipples on an otherwise doll-jointed, sexless body, while the other girls took turns poking at Nessa’s swollen belly and budding garden growing out of the floor, which the broodmother herself was more then content to pick parts off of and eat as she teased a nipple.

“Alright Nessa,” Janice cleared her throat, not used to her new voice, though she did like how it matched her new body. “it’s your turn to flip. And be careful.”

“I’ve already got just the thing in mind~”

Nessa, now a slimy cross between animal and plant more than twice as wide as a human, took a few moments to stop teasing her new body and shift forward on her new big booty, grabbing the coin with green fingers. Despite her slimy, syurpy touch making plants grow, the coin itself remained shiny and pristine. Was it because it was metal, or magic? Nessa shrugged shoulders topped with budding growth, a gesture that now made her ripe and weighty body jiggle.

“I don’t know about you two, but this body is dying to FUCK. Love spells are witchy, right? And there are sexy monsters that seduce men and stuff yeah?” The other two monsters each nodded a confirmation in turn. “Right! So this is on point. And don’t worry, I’ll word it for you guys as well. Since it seems like Quinn’s not getting her cherry popped any time soon.” Nessa snickered as Quinn rolled her eyes as only a living doll could. “Come on girl, flip already.”

After waving a hand at Quinn, Nessa readied the coin. “On a heads, we will each get magic to seduce others and make them our servants, slaves, pets toys, whatever fits us best! If it’s tails, we’ll be reshaped and ruled by our fetishes, like to the point that we can’t help ourselves. And oh don’t act like you two don’t have them!” Sticking out her frog tongue turned into a slurp, and after sucking it back into her mouth, she flipped the coin.

The coin gleamed and rattled as it fell on the wooden table, before coming to rest. It landed on heads.

The magic bathed Nessa’s fertile form in pleasure, and her eyes rolled back in her head as her body spoke to her, teaching her as it changed according to her flip. Small branches of green and brown sprouted and curled from her back, bearing a mix of strange, fleshy fruits. Vines spider-webbed across her body and limbs, clinging to her slick ripeness and birthing grape-like clusters and berries that adorned her like decorations along her limbs, between her breasts, sprouting from her naval. Even when she bruised or crushed them with her motions, they released alluring scents. More mushrooms and fungi bloomed to life, and the mushroom cap on her head twitched, dusting her in a spore cloud as her body tensed, stomach gurgling.

Mother. Feed them. Embrace them. Breed them. Birth them.

Nessa slobbered as she came, feeling something squishy and round pop out of her thick gushy pussy. She was just so fucking FULL. She was already running over, and was sitting in a little marshy garden as the puddle spread under her oversized ass, a festival of smells and tastes that were wordlessly beckoning to something, ANYTHING to fucking breed her oozing cunt until they made something together.

Wet Mother. Green Mother. You are life. All beasts are soil. Dust. Clay children. They crave you. Desire you. Thirst for your blessing. Become one with them, guide them as your obedient children.

Nessa heaved a breath that made her heavy breasts jiggle, causing drips of syrup to spill onto the table, sprouting small patches of moss, and the communion ended. The broodmother looked at her body, already half-knowing what had happened to her. So weirdness aside, It was about tasting her, whether drinking her juices, eating the stuff growing on her, or breathing spores. She did lean her head forward to look over her stomach, between her legs. There was something that looked like a frog’s egg, the size of a large peach, jiggling on the carpet. I guess eggs count too. And ‘all beasts?’ That’s kind of nasty, but I guess I’m not human anymore either. Some pets might be fun though. Nessa’s frog tongue snaked out as she licked her lips, pondering fresh depravities.

The magic settled on Quinn’s doll body like gentle hands, dressing her in an invisible costume. She wasn’t just excited, but confident. Not just skilled, but graceful. Not just beautiful, but enthralling. Glamorous.

Faerie Maiden! Doll Maiden! Mistress of the stage! Here is the moon, and here is the night! How beautiful the darkness, dressed in starlight!

The magic suffused her, and Quinn shuddered. Everything was so vivid. Was this magic? Was she losing her mind? She couldn’t be drugged with a body that wasn’t alive right? But she was glowing, her skin giving off a pale, silvery aura. Colors were stronger, shadows sharper. Her imagination was running wild, suggestions of invisible creatures swimming across her vision. She was inspired. She was inspiration. Her fingers twitched to life, moving even as the words giggled their sing-song into her inhuman head.

Little miss, little miss! All the world’s your stage, and they are all your players, models for your fancy, canvas to paint with all your desires. Enthrall them, enchant them, give them new roles, new lives! Here is a princess, her hair in tresses, to tease and tickle and terrify. Here is a maid, with scissors and mask, to snicker-snip and aid your craft. Here are the puppets to dance on your strings, and here you are, to clothe them in dreams.

She was only vaguely aware of the impossibility her hands were performing, caught in the grip of her craft. At some point a chunk of the table had come off, and she molded the wood like soft clay. Her fingers snatched a shadow, pulling it like cloth. She’d produced a needle at some point, made of moonlight, and threaded it with a strand of her hair, stitching the shadow with feverish speed.

Chill them, thrill them, fulfill them! Make them laugh and make them cry, make them serve you and never die. Undress them first with your eyes, then your hands, and let them scream however you like as you paint them in enchantments. Each night a new performance! Each role you grant them a new beginning! Mistress of the stage, forever young, forever free! Spotlight or shadow, your place is wherever you choose.

The mask was finished. It was black wood, a polished, beautiful thing, chased with ruby red around its boarders. It was a domino, styled just to cover the eyes, and it made a sharp contrast against her pale face as she put it on. A quick scuttle to the mirror confirmed that yes, it looked as awesome as she imagined. Quinn still felt a bit lightheaded from the rush, but her hands continued unconsciously, picking at her old clothes as she sat on her knees, wrapping her head around her new self. So I’ve got fairy magic. Glamour. Like stage magic, or star power. Charisma. And I can make costumes and stuff out of just fucking whatever, and they’ll take on the role to match it, with me in charge as the director. Hmmm…Quinn actively stopped herself a moment, and got her hand to do a creepy clicky finger clatter, along with a 360 spin at the wrist. I bet I could make that go in reverse too. Like make it so no one notices me until I want them to. That sounds like a fairy thing, being invisible to prank people. Yeah, yeah…

The magic settled on the book in Janice’s hand, and she felt it like it was part of her as the coin’s power caressed it, transforming it into a thick, leathery grimoire, and she threw a clawed hand over her heart as she felt a responding pulse in her chest, and then another in her head. New words were writing themselves into existence, filling her book and her brain equally while her body thumped and her hair writhed, floating as though she was underwater. There was no communion, no rush of insight. The knowledge was just there, secrets of the unknown laid bare in her brain.

The aspect of the Crone embodies wisdom, endings, death, repose, and the waning moon. Wisdom comes by the word. Any knowledge I add to the book is added to me, any magic or witchcraft I write, I can comprehend and perform. People are made of words, and I can take those words from them with the clutch of my hair, take their spirit with their breath, leave them mindless, soulless, in repose, in need of new words, any words I want. I can give knowledge, take it away, seduce, corrupt, control, consume. Take their names and I can make them slaves, swallow them up and they’ll be nothing but zombies, moaning obedience, while I tangle their ghosts in my hair and make them mine. I can rewrite people’s lives. And as long as this book exists as my soul, I won’t end.

It was terrible knowledge, but that only made it more alluring, intoxicating, and intensely tempting. The fact that she already knew all kinds of other folk lore and potential witchcraft only made it more inviting. She could play with it, just in little experiments, taking and giving back, or switching someone up. She could have a little cult bound to her in fanaticism, or drain people down to their dregs, putting their existence down to single words. Her flesh felt powerful, and her body was hot with desire, but it was a heavy weight on her soul as she panted. Her grimoire was a thick, black thing now, veined with strands of her pale hair, like spider webs.

The magic of Nessa’s flip settled down, finished, and the former college girls turned monsters gazed at each other, taking in their changes together as they shared what had happened to them, and the new power each of them held.

As nessa was preoccupied with fondling herself, Janice bent down and picked up the coin between two clawed fingers, offering it to the doll girl. “Alright. There’s one more flip, and it belongs to you Quinn. You’re free to flip whatever you think of that we can share. Choose wisely.”

Quinn, for her part, fiddled with the black shroud that she had magicked her former clothes into, adjusting it on her pale body for different styles.

“Hmmm. I do want to flip for sure, but before I do~” The doll girl smiled, eyes shining.

“I can’t be the only one that wants to try out what we can do now. Anyone else want to have some fun before I do the last flip?”

“Shouldn’t you just-”

“I VOTE DICK!” Both Janice and Quinn turned as Nessa cried out. Loudly. She was currently sitting in a frog squat, pickling some alien cucumber that had burst itself out of the growing garden that was Janice’s dorm room with her syrupy snatch. Each bounce of grey-green hips made Nessa’s overripe ass slap against the floor. As Janice’s room was on the third floor of the building, things were shuddering a bit.

Janice spoke up again, voice full of authority, and Quinn swiveled her head back to face her. “Going out now means the coin is here. I’m not leaving the coin alone, and there’s no way in Hell it’s leaving this room before the flips are done. And given that getting Nessa out of here isn’t really happening right now without people freaking, going out to play means bringing people back here. People you’d have to get fast. People that would be in the same place as the coin. It’d be a nightmare to make it work.”

Quinn looked back and forth between Nessa and Janice, one masturbating in a growing garden and tall grasses, the other tall enough that she had to look up to see more than her stomach, and ultimately let out a sigh. “I guess you’re right.” Her face immediately brightened up, however, transfixed with a smile. “That gives me an idea though! Here, give me the coin, I’ll do my flip right now.” After being passed the coin, Quinn played with it, expertly running it along her jointed doll-fingers.

So clearly, this,” she said, while wildly waving her free hand at Janice’s overgrown dorm room. The motion caught Nessa’s attention, and she pulled herself off the fat greenery she was fucking with a gooey plop. “This isn’t going to work for us. We’re magic. We’re monsters. We need a home base. A hunting ground. A lair. That’s what I’m gonna flip for!” Fixing her posture, standing straight as she could, pale arm fully outstretched, Quinn readied the coin to flip.

“Hey coin, here’s my flip. If heads, make this whole school our domain, us running the show and everyone accepting us and our benevolent rule. If tails, then give us a lair, for the three of us that we share together, where we can really live like monsters.” She flipped, and the coin rang slightly as it spun before Quinn caught it out of the air, slapping it on the back of her hand with a clack.

It was tails.

The effect was immediate. Janice’s dorm room faded away, becoming indistinct before vanishing completely. There was a single moment where the coven of monsters stood suspended in a colorless, soundless void, then reality resumed, rebuilding itself around their new location, their lair.

The sounds of society were gone with the campus, giving way to the music of a lonely, midnight wilderness. The lake was quiet, but the forest was alive with bugs and birds and frogs and things that weren’t quite what they used to be since Nessa made it her pleasure garden paradise. The forest was not the same either, invaded by a wild legion of strange fruits, vivid fungus, and unnamed plant life that only accelerated it’s transformation into a wet, fragrant swamp. But it was a pretty playground, and hard for a human to just stumble through,  Of course, a little magic helped with that. There was even a grotto Nessa loved to use for a bit of extra privacy, and plenty of room in the depth of the lake.

Though she preferred the swamp and starlight, even Nessa couldn’t deny their manor was right where it belonged, in the heart of the swamp, looking over the lake, complete with secret underwater tunnel. The one she’d used to meet up with her coven sisters in the foyer they were standing in now. It was old and musty and spooky, but the mood was just right, all faded and elegant, with fancy stone floors and lots of double doors that made it easy to move around. Not to mention the big dramatic staircase in the center for the second floor. There weren’t any lights, and it wasn’t like they needed them, but there were debates about getting internet going somehow. Well, Quinn wanted it anyway.

New memories formed as the coin’s magic shaped the house to match it as a monster’s lair. Janice claimed the master bedroom on the second floor, less because of any kind of leadership and more to have a room and bed that accommodated her statuesque frame. It being connected to a study certainly didn’t hurt though, and evidence of her practice and experiments in magic and witchcraft came into existence at the same time as the memories of those experiments. The kitchen and the space outside as well showed signs of experiments, with the kitchen becoming a makeshift lab, and a large cauldron resting over the ashes of a wood fire outside. And then there was the library, still bearing a few weathered books yellowed with age and damp. It wasn’t haunted yet, but Janice was working on it, along with filling those shelves herself.

Quinn’s bedroom was smaller, but as sleep wasn’t really a thing for her anymore, with anything approaching rest just being collapsing into a creepy doll-slump, she didn’t mind. Especially given the rest of the house was more or less hers to romp around in. There was a studio that quickly crowded with her projects. Costumes and mixes of pigments, accessories and even puppets dangled from stings from the ceilings. The ground floor hard a large, ruined ballroom, complete with an aging stage. With her and Janice working on it though, she was sure they could come up with something enchanted~. There was even a little gallery with enough room for sculptures, not to mention paintings on the wall. It wasn’t originally her thing, but she was just bursting with energy now, and it gave a little variety over just costume work all the time.

Several sets of stairs going down were peppered into existence around the house, leading to a stony basement layer. Rooms for servants, humble even before time wore away at the few bits there, came into being, along with a cellar and places where the former inhabitants would have worked and lived, doing laundry, a second kitchen, and cunning slits for ventilation that endured. It was fairing fairly well considering the encroaching swampiness consuming the forest, with a bit of dankness that made it feel like a dungeon.

The coin’s magic moved like a tide, pulling away from the newly formed lair, taking root in the three monsters as it set about completing Quinn’s wish for the three to live like monsters. The former college friends were stunned, unawares as the magic dug deep, transforming them all in will and soul to match their new bodies.

Quinn felt her sight expanding, her spirit flying as though it were freed from gravity as her human grip on reality loosened and fell away. She was innocent, and careless, as only the Fae could be. Everything in the world was for her amusement, and boredom the only sin left. She understood now, mortality was something that could just be brushed away, just a thing that happened on the stage. Play. it was all an endless play, with the world as the setting and all the people in it hers to take and change and trick and terrify, outlets for her arts and crafts, pets for her fancies. Fear and awe were the bare minimums she was due.

Nessa quivered as her self melted, touching at something massive and countless and primordial. She was fucking the earth. She was the earth. She was life, wet, squirming life that was around before humans were a blink. They were just another kind of animal to embrace. Whatever taboos she had dissolved. All that mattered was her breeding, her pleasure, her flesh, her children, whether by adoption or birth, until they covered the whole earth. Everything would be green and quivering and alive, and they’d all eat and fuck and breed and birth and sleep and be reborn to doll it all again and again and again and again and again forever and ever until her blood was the one blood and everything was one again, united again in an everlasting dance of life.

Janice felt her hair embracing her body as the darkness that had changed her body before seeped down, staining her soul with haggish wickness and sadistic pleasure. The weight she had felt when blessed with that forbidden knowledge was gone. It wasn’t a burden, but something to embrace. Power. Power was something to revel in. Whether her flexing, steely muscles, her towering black-skinned body, or the witchcraft that suffused her with knowledge forbidden to mortals, power was a delight. And the only thing better than being powerful, was using that power. Not bullying the weak. No, that wasn’t quite right. To deprive others. Yesssssssss. Just the thought of it made her sex clench. To take everything they were, and leave them with nothing. To taunt them, toy with them, twist them about and humiliate them. Drink them down to the dregs until they were dull-eyed little dredges that would debase themselves to lose even more. Her black tongue slid across her sharp teeth, as her face split with a wicked grin as she took control of her hair, teasing herself to her new, sadistic desires.

At last, the magic completed, the coin vanished, leaving the three monsters with their new lair, new minds, and new lives, all thoughts of the coin gone.

Quinn giggled and straightened her dress.

Nessa slobbered, fresh growth growing from her needy body.

Janice picked at her claws, and looked at the former college girls, full of evil intent as she leaned forward.

“The night is still young. NOW, what shall we do for fun~?”

#coin flip #mind control #corruption #monstergirl #complete

[onceuponymous]

LanaMia Wicked AU Act 1

Llana Skye has been on track to go to Shiz her whole life, taking all the preparatory programs.  Her rich family helped, but she is a genuinely hard worker.  Meanwhile, Mia Fey is only at the school because her aunt Morgan, who is the headmistress, wanted her there to take care of her cousin Dahlia.  Morgan has taken care of Mia since her own mother disappeared (she never knew her father beyond a small green bottle).  Mia wants to learn how to use her gift for magic, but is already sick of being stared at so much for her green skin.  She has high hopes for meeting the Wizard.

As you may have gathered, Dahlia is Nessarose.  She genuinely has some of Iris’s personality traits — Mia has to want to protect her, after all.  Not sure if she’s in a wheelchair or has some other disability, or whether her condition can be blamed on Mia’s verdigris (the way Nessa’s mother was made to eat milkflowers when pregnant).  Maybe rather than her legs, she faints very easily, and the wheelchair is to prevent overexertion.

Madame Morgan assigns Mia to Llana’s room, making a comment about how maybe Llana’s studiousness can set an example.  So Llana’s first impression of Mia is someone who only got into the school by family connections, who’s rude (okay, Mia may be a little snappy about her skin.  And may have grabbed a student or two by the lapels), and who makes some strange feeling rise up in her guts.  It must be loathing.

Meanwhile, Mia sees Llana surrounded by friends like Jake, Neil, Bruce, and Angel, and comes to the conclusion that she’s faking all her friendliness and concern, and that’s how she has this cadre always agreeing with her and praising her.  She’s also pretty sure that Llana’s led a charmed life that led her to Shiz.  And her face feels flushed whenever she looks at her — this feeling has got to have a name!

(Yeah, they’re gay for each other)

Dr. Grossberg talks about, like the scent of fresh lemon, the days of his youth a lot, when a Goat like him would not be the only talking animal on campus.  Mia makes a good impression on him, and they start talking to each other a lot about Ozian politics and law.  He always pronounces Llana’s name as Lana. Before I start talking about Phoenix, I just want to point out @thisllendpoorly’s observation that Fiyero Tiggular sounds a lot like Furio Tigre.  What Could It Mean.  Also two-line wonder Avaric is Larry Butz.

So Phoenix is a new student who’s not expecting to last long at this school.  He’s brainless, after all, everyone tells him he only gets by on bluffs and luck.  So why not embrace that about himself!  Also he’s a prince I guess?

And now we start shuffling around the love triangles.  Diego is really into Mia, always calling her kitten.  Llana’s noticed that Mia does not really reciprocate, so even if they have their differences she’s gonna be on this girl’s side.  So she’s been subtly intercepting Diego whenever he tries to get closer than Mia is comfortable with.  When he’s about to ask Mia to the ball, Llana gets him to agree to taking Dahlia out for a fun night before he even gets near the other Fey.  (If they’re both students, ages are probably changed so he’s not eight years older than Dahlia.  Still, there’s never even a pretense of a romantic relationship between them, bc that would creep me out.)  Dahlia enjoys having someone around who’s so concerned with making her happy, and also likes seeing what she can do and how he’ll react.

Phoenix immediately gets along with both Llana and Mia, and learns about their rivalry.  He invites Llana to the Ozdust Ballroom, then invites Mia.  However, when the two get to the ballroom, they find themselves dancing with each other!  And they start realizing that maybe their assumptions about each other were wrong, and they could be friends after all.  (And wow, under these lights Mia’s eyes are really pretty, and Llana is so graceful of a dancer…)

(Phoenix: “All according to keikaku”)

So Llana and Mia get along now, though they still haven’t admitted their feelings.  And Llana decides to teach Mia how to be popular (which does involve some complying with trends and putting on an act, but Mia learns that Llana really does care about her friends, and she really is pretty dang smart.  She just is more concerned about image than Mia is.)

Dr. Grossberg is forbidden to teach.  His replacement is *spins wheel* Robert Hammond?  *continues spinning wheel* Redd White?  Manfred von Karma?  Blaise Debeste?  … You know what, lets just call the new professor “Bob”.

Bob brings in a Lion cub in a cage and talks about how he can prevent her from ever learning how to speak.  Mia casts a spell in agitation that incapacitates most of the people in the room, Phoenix breaks the cage door and runs off with the cub, and Llana can’t believe she’s going along with them but… but this is wrong.  Llana surprises herself by saying she’ll take care of the cub.  The little lion currently only knows how to say her name: Ema. 

Somehow Llana becomes convinced that Mia and Phoenix love each other.  (They do not.  They are very good friends.)  She also decides to go by “Lana” in honor of Grossberg (and so that the author doesn’t have to keep going back and adding an extra L to her name).

Madame Morgan arranges for Mia to go to Oz and talk to the Wizard after her agitation over Grossberg.  (No one knows about Ema.)  Mia asks Lana to come with her because “she knows how to talk to people” (because she feels better about everything when Lana is near).  Meanwhile, Diego’s getting agitated at having to spend so much time with Dahlia, who insists that they are “the best of friends!”  He says that he can’t do this anymore and storms off.

Lana and Mia have a gay time in the Emerald City.  Then it’s time to meet the Great and Powerful Wizard of Oz…

… Gant.

Yeah, this is gonna end well.

Gant is delighted to meet Mia and Lana!  He brings out a Monkey and gives Mia the Grimmerie, telling her to cast a levitation spell as a show of her powers.  Mia complies, but is horrified when the Monkey starts screaming in pain.  And then Press Secretary Morgan tells her that spells are irreversible, other caged Monkeys begin growing wings, and Gant goes on about how these spies, I mean scouts, can report subversive animal activities…

Mia runs off.  Lana chases her, and Gant calls for guards to go after them both. Lana says that Mia shouldn’t have run off, that yes what she was just made to do was horrible, but Gant has power and is offering them a chance to work with him!  They can talk to him, influence him, direct that power where it can do some good!  Mia is being impulsive to run off instead of trying to work with what they’ve got.

Mia is done playing by the rules of someone else’s game, however.  She asks Lana to come with her, to follow their dreams, just the two of them.

… Lana hopes she’s happy.

The guards burst through the door, and Mia puts on a show.  She’s the Wicked Witch, she’s going to take down the Wizard, Lana definitely tried to stop her but failed!  No one’s going to bring her down!

END ACT ONE

#mia fey #lana skye #lanamia #wicked au #ace attorney #phoenix wright #chellewrites

[aetherschreiber]

Fic: Hedge Knight (notes)

So there you are! Thanks for reading! I'm under no delusions that this is going to get a lot of attention, being as the fandom is tiny at this point. So please be aware that any feedback you can give is precious as gold and will be greatly treasured.

This was the result of a very old plot bunny of about twenty years of age. So, older than most acutal bunnies. Back in the day, it was not very clearly worked out, which is probably why it didn't get written until now. This actually bears very little resemblance to the original plot bunny, since 20 years ago I was a silly fifteen-year-old girl without a clue. My historical nerding and ability to do research is what finally really brought this thing to light. It just didn't have a chance, back in the day.

And, while working on this, it bred some other plot bunnies that I might try to nuture in the future. Not sure, yet. We'll see if they come together.

Now, excuse me while I nerd this out...

Because I'm a huge nerd, I went digging around in Irish mythology for some stuff. I've made a few assumptions on stuff that was never clearly established in the show itself, so I thought I would make a few notes here.

Regarding Emain Macha...

The show never gave a name for the village that was in the shadow of Kells Castle. I wanted to have one and the Ulster Cycle calls the town that Conchobar mac Nessa rules from Emain Macha. Plus, I liked the story of the way the town got its name. So I stole it and ran like Macha in the horse race. Nothing too ground-breaking here.

I went and got down and nerdy with the characters's names and some side-stories, too. It's always kind of bothered me that none of them had full, period style names (because, like I said, I'm a nerd). Deirdre and Conchobar would certainly have had something more than just a given name, as would Ivar. Rohan and Angus are somewhat more open to interpretation, so I put my own spin on it. Plus, I'm in the SCA, so I just couldn't help myself while digging through medieval Irish names.

Regarding the name Rohan Draganta Ban Ui Meith Macha...

The conceit of Rohan's clan name is that he is descended from the war goddess Macha. This distinction would have come from his father's side of the family, ostensibly a Kellsman. Draganta I threw in there as a sort of "middle name" because it would have been in there somewhere, but I'm just not sure how it would have been lenited, since as far as I can tell it's not actually an Irish name.

When you get right down to it, Rohan is basically CuChullain, who was not born with that name and only was called that after defeating a giant hound (see Tash Hound of Temra, and may other references throughout the show). As a young boy, since no one in the village knew anything about his epic destiny, he was called by the villagers of Emain Macha "Rohan Ban" meaning "Rohan the fair" because of his hair. The moniker stuck, even after he finds out his identity as the Warrior Draganta.

Regarding the name Deirdre inghean Conchobair Ui Rudhraighe...

There isn't a whole lot here that needs to be explained. This is a straight up lineage type of a name. It basically says that she's Conchobar's daughter, who is in turn a male descendant of a man named Rudraige. This clan name is derived from a high-king of Ireland, Rudraige, whose son was a king of Ulster (or in this context, Kells). I never actually got around to actually using the name in the fic, but it's here in the notes for completeness' sake.

In my head, Deirdre's mother was named Eithne. She was killed by Maeve when Deirdre was a little girl. Don't know why that's relevant. But there you are.

The show pretty much tossed out the actual Irish mythology of Deirdre and Conchobar. Trust me, this is a good thing. The Conchobar of myth was a real creeper and what he did to the Deirdre of myth was unsettling and I'm pretty sure illegal in modern life (and no, I don't just mean killing her husband; that's DEFINITELY illegal). So I pretty much tossed out anything of the names of the characters from myth and more or less treated them as new characters with their own backstories.

Regarding the name Angus Dubh o Cumhaill...

Angus effectively equates to Conall Cernach, the best friend of CuChullain.

In my fic, he is a descendant of Cailte mac Ronain, nephew of the last king of the Fianna, through his son Oisin. In actual Irsh myth, Conall and Cailte were not related (in fact, one is from the Ulster Cycle and the other from the Fenian Cycle and here I've even reversed their time periods), but a relating of the two characters is used for story purposes, because what the hell? The show didn't care about that stuff, either.

All of this was on his mother's side of the family. His mother's brother, Cet mac Magach, was told by a druid that the baby would one day kill his uncle. Cet was afraid of this and tried to kill Angus shortly after he was born. This is based on the story of Conall and Cet from Irish myth, but around there is where the similarities end and artistic licence takes over. When Cet did not succeed, he fled to Temra. Angus' mother and father then left him with an old lady named Brighde in Emain Macha to hide him from any further attempts on his life by Cet. This is why he was basically brought up as a street urchin along side Rohan.

The old lady gave him the moniker Dubh because of his dark hair. But Angus never really liked it, so he didn't perpetuate it after Brighde died. The fact that Cet refers to him as such is the result of a very old rumor finally making its way to Cet after many years.

The story Angus tells of besting the soldier Anluan is based on the Tale of Mac Da Tho's Pig. In that, Conall wins the debate by casually tossing Anluan's freshly-severed head to Cet. I uh... toned it down, just a smidge.

Conall kind of has a history of severing heads. I pretty much left that out. It didn't exactly say "Angus" to me...

Regarding the name Ivar ibn Idris Adar as-Salar...

No, you didn't miss this name, either. Again, never got around to using it in the fic. But it was a fun excersise.

The idea for Ivar is that he is a prince in pre-Muslim Syria. He is the son of Idris, a prince, of the clan Salar. In that culture, the title of Prince has a different connotation. Ivar's father is not necessarily a king and Ivar will not necessarily succeed him. In fact, given that it was his task to guard the silver chalice, and that he was sent to retrieve it, and that he was free to pledge help to Rohan and Kells, it seems likely that he is a younger son of a local prince, under a sultan, and not likely to inherit.

Random note, Ivar is NOT a Syrian name and is most likely a derivation of the Scandanavian name Ivor. Why the show didn't go ahead and find an actual name of the type of heritage that Ivar was clearly supposed to have, I really don't know and I was rather disappointed to learn. But Ivar isn't terribly glaring in its ethic displacement, so I ran with it and chose a name sort of like it for his father in order to help it fit in.

Finally, in reference to the title of the fic...

Yes, I am aware that the term "hedge knight" first showed up in the Song of Ice and Fire series. However, that wasn't what inspired the title of this fic. Rather it was a fantastic song I heard around a campfire in the SCA. I know the bard in question as Lady Cobflaith (she's a really awesome person with a lot of talent!). The song itself has very little to do with the plot of the fic at all, but it did introduce me to the idea of a penniless knight and the idea that someone who might not seem to others to be worthy can do great things, even if only in the eyes of the few or the one.

Oh, and one more note. Mace fighting is weird and hard to write. A sword girl like me, who depends on keeping covered and breaking tempos, can't wrap her head around a weapon that works with a rhythm and leaves parts of the wielder open to thrust attacks at regular intervals. So, those bits probably kind of sucked and I'm sorry.

Sláinte!

#fanfic #fanfiction #mystic knights of tir na nog #nerdy writer's notes

[qvietwhispers]

CELIA ALVAREZ X STEFAN NAVARRO 14/06/2021

( @fadiingstarliight )

celia

Celia had been waiting for the right moment to bring it up. Clearly Stefan wasn't going to, she knew that much; especially now she knew it involved Vanessa. As the kids ran off to play, Celia took a breath, turning to Stefan as she cleared up. "You're not going to talk to me, are you?" Celia arched an eyebrow, hands on her hips. "Then let me tell you what I know. I know something happened, and I know you're hiding it from me because it involves Vanessa. I don't know what, but if you're hiding it from me, it's clearly not anything good."

stefan

Stefan had been waiting for this moment to come. He knew it would, he knew she wouldn't let it go, but he hoped he could make and excuse and leave before she found a moment to confront him away from the kids. When she mentioned Nessa though, he backtracked a little bit. He hadn't expected her to know that but then again, it wasn't like secrets can be kept in this town even if he tried. "I am not hiding anything, Nessa and I just have some things to figure out." he told the other with a shrug of his shoulders, hoping she wouldn't ask more questions but if he knew anything at all about Celia, it was that she would not back out. "I don't know who told you this but it's really nothing."

celia

Celia knew he was going to shrug it off as if it was nothing, but given her conversation with Luv, she was pretty sure it wasn't. "I've known you since we were born, Stefan, I know when you're hiding something from me." Celia told him bluntly, before crossing her arms over her chest. "Then if it's nothing, why not tell me? I'm your best friend, am I not?"

stefan

Stefan sighed deeply before he looked at Celia, remembering how the last time they had an argument about Nessa, their friendship had crumbled to the ground. "Yeah, Celia, you are. I am not telling you because I fucked up. I was mad at Nessa and I went and got drunk and almost slept with someone." he said bluntly. Overexaggeration of what happened and definitely lying as per Luv's definition. "So, yeah, trouble in paradise."

celia

"Oh please. I know you, Stefan. You barely ever get mad at her, so it must have been something big. Especially if it caused you to almost cheat, which I'm pretty sure you wouldn't do without some kind of twisted reasoning." Celia spoke just as bluntly, shrugging her shoulders. "Look, I know I'm not Nessa's biggest fan, but that doesn't mean you can't talk to me about these things. I almost broke our friendship last time, I'll actually told my tongue this time."

stefan

Stefan frowned at her words, and at that moment he hated how well Celia knew him. Sometimes even better than he knew himself. "I know I can talk to you, Cece, but I don't want to, not about this, okay?" After he met Luv and he was certain he had stressed her out, not to mention the same with Cam and Ade as well, Stefan didn't think he should be dragging other people into his mess, especially not Celia who was bound to get mad at Nessa and likely disappointed with him. "It's a little issue we are working out, we'll be okay."

celia

"Why not? Stefan I can tell this is getting to you, and so can most people. Ronnie asked me what was wrong the other day and I genuinely didn't know what to tell her, so I know you're not telling your family either. That's big, Stefan." Celia's tone grew softer, and she sighed, shaking her head. "I'm not convinced it is a small issue, Stefan, I know you love her, but if something happened that you're hiding from your best friend and your family, maybe it's worth taking a step back and wondering if it's worth working it out."

stefan

Stefan knew Celia meant well but he was also convinced that nothing good was going to come out of telling her. She was going to worry and probably talk to Nessa which was going to upset her more than she already was. "Relationships are hard, you told me that, remember?" He reminded her lightly. "We are figuring it out and we are on a break now. Don't worry about me, Cece. I have taken a step back. You aren't the only one who's told me to do that."

celia

"Hard, but they're not supposed to be impossible, Stefan, or make you hide things from your family." Celia told him, shaking her head. "You want me to believe that? Stefan, you couldn't take a break from her last time I tried to tell you. You two don't do space or whatever it is you told me, remember?"

stefan

Her words left Stefan with a lump in his throat and his gaze stayed on the ground as he swallowed. "I love her." he told her quietly. "I love her and don't want to lose her just because I'm angry at her for a mistake she made." He doubted Celia even understood what he meant when he gave her absolutely no context but his eyes were burning and he blinked rapidly to stop any tears falling. "I love her, Cece."

celia 

Celia sighed softly as he spoke, moving to wrap her arms around him. "I know you do, Stefan, but love shouldn't be like this." She murmured softly. "If it was just one mistake, would you really be going out of your way to hide it from me? From your family?"

stefan

"I don't know, I don't know what it should be like." He sighed. "I just don't want to talk about it, okay? I don't want more of my friends mad at her. I try to make everyone I know happy, she shouldn't have to." He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "I have to check on Davi, is it alright if the kids stay here for a little while?"

celia

"Alright fine, but it shouldn't be your job to make everyone happy, Stefan." Celia shook her head. "Especially if she's the one that fucked up. But sure, of course they can."

stefan

He understood what she meant but he had never listened to her the many times she had told him that before and he doubted he was going to now. He was glad when the other didn't push him to stay though. "Thank you," he murmured before he grabbed his phone and left the house without another word.

#thread; celia alvarez #thread; celia & stefan #thread; celia & stefan; 09 #discord thread

[galivantingg]

Behind Those Eyes

Chapter 14 - End

Adjusting after that fiasco was tough. I went back to the orphanage, Cole helping me find the way. After whatever that was with Kev, I collapsed. I woke up however later it was, blind, but not alone. I love my powers. Both of them. Kev lost his mind reading powers, but he still had his family powers. Nobody else died. And, we captured all the villains.

Huzzah!

The mood was muted. I was quick to make jokes about my blindness, making everyone less awkward around me. I missed it. Seeing the sky, watching leaves dance in the wind, admiring my friend's smiles. I can still picture them.

I was shaken out of my thoughts by approaching feet. "Wait, don't tell me," I said, and smile forming on my mouth. "I want to guess." I listened hard, hearing soft breathing and light footsteps. "Phoenix?" I guessed.

Silence.

I'll take that as a no.

I groaned. "Alright I give up."

I felt light wind brush across the top of my patchy head, ruffling the bunches of hair that could grow. I need a wig.

"Martha," I said steadily.

"Cam," she said. "You're talking to me now."

I shrugged, not really knowing what to say. She took that as an invitation to continue. "I needed to tell you something." I motioned for her to continue. "When I woke up, last year, I was in that same room you were. The Director, he was there. He explained everything to me, and I was angry, so angry at first. I was a captive, I had no choice. Then Peculiar, she got inside my head. I don't think she really wanted me to go insane, because I could still function on my own."

She sighed, and I heard something that sounded like her sitting down. "All I really remember from that time is flashes. I didn't have any solid memories. So I'm sorry, that I didn't reach out before."

She stopped talking then, apparently not knowing what to say. "I forgive you," I said quietly. I imagined she was looking at me questioningly, wondering why.

"You, so full of hate and anger, forgive me, just like that?" She asked.

Way to hit the nail on the head. Ouch.

"I've had enough anger inside of me, I think I'm done being angry." I heard her hair ruffle, and I imagined she was nodding her head. She could have been shaking it, though.

"How very mature of you," she complimented. Or insulted. "There was something else I wanted to tell you," she said. "Waya and I were talking, and we want to retire. Take things slow, I know Houdini and Legion want to take a break too. Honestly, I think that last fight might've pulled a lot out of everyone."

I nodded, agreeing with her. "I think the only ones staying are Aerglo, Mo, Phoenix, Mazus, Mayhem, Nova and Rellik. I think Mo is also thinking of ditching her mask, along with Mayhem."

It was quiet again, and the only think keeping me thinking Martha has left was her steady breathing.

"That'll be good for the public, knowing who's protecting them. They'll do a fine job." She said.

I nodded, not knowing what more to say.

"Tom and I were also talking about something else, something that concerns you. We want you to be the new director."

Well there's a surprise.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because you are the best candidate. You know these people, you know the cave, you know the system, plus, you and I both know you won't be able to stay away from the fight too long." She has a point.

"I don't know what to say."

"Say yes," she urged.

"Okay," I said, plunging into the unknown.

. . .

We were sitting in silence, just enjoying each other's company. I felt her hand brush against mine, and I opened my palm so she can lace our fingers together. She rubbed her thumb along the side of my hand, repeating the comforting movement. It set off butterflies in my stomach.

"Aella and Waya want me to be the new director." I broke the silence.

She hummed. "I think you'd be great at it."

I imagined her face, the one from school. Cute cheeks, full lips, dark eyes filled with love. Why did it take me so long to realise that she loved me, and I her.

"I want you by my side," I murmured.

She lifted my hand, pressing a kiss to it. I smiled. "Always,"

"Always and forever."

. . .

Cole stared at her, taking in the sight of her girlfriend. Her girlfriend. That was weird to say, it finally happened. It was all a rush of spilling feelings and then suddenly she was being hugged, arms wrapping tightly across her back, Hestia's face buried in her shoulder. She smiled at the memory. She revelled in the quiet. She knew as soon as this moment was over, Hestia was going to go back to pretending like she wasn't affected by Cole.

"Ew," came a voice. Cole looked over to see Jay in the doorway. "Keep the PDA to a minimum." They both grinned, and Hestia huffed and let go of Cole's hand. Cole tried not to show her disappointment at the loss of contact.

"What do you want," Hestia asked. Cole tuned them out, choosing to stare at the amazing woman in front of her.

Her hair sprung out in dark curly patches, sparse across her head. She had mentioned getting a wig, just for the public, but Cole thought she looked beautiful. She had burns running up and down her arms and legs, and probably more covering her torso. Her eyes, that's what Cole missed the most. Her beautiful blue eyes were covered by a thick white curtain, only the faintest of the once brilliant blue shining through.

Her skin was still just as soft, and her right hand was mostly unscathed. She loved Hestia's hands. Her fingers were long, and the knuckles a little bit big. They were perfectly imperfect.

"Cole?"

"Huh?" Cole was brought out of her thoughts to see Jay looking at her and Hestia looking over her shoulder. Close enough.

"We were wondering what you were going to do." Jay clarified.

"Um, I wasn't listening."

Hestia rolled her eyes. "No duh,"

Jay snickered. "Are you going to be on the team or in charge of the team?"

"I'll go wherever Nessa goes." Yeah, Cole is cheesy. Despite her not having to lie anymore, Hestia still went by Nessa. Cole called her Hestia in private, but Nessa with all the others. The others still called her Cammie, though.

"Well I won't be much use on the team being blind," Hestia quipped. Jay and Cola laughed, and Hestia grinned. "Come on babe," she said to Cole. "It's time to go visit the slime bag.

Interrogation time!

He was locked up in the cave's prison, Hestia didn't trust regular prisons. Besides, we had a power dampener just for him. They walked down the steps slowly, thinking. They came to the door he was behind, and slowly opened it up.

"Hey there, Killer." Hestia said coldly. Cole itched to take her hand, but she understood that now was not the time.

"Chameleon?" He didn't recognise her.

"Ding ding ding! You got it in one. So, I have some questions for you. If you answer them, I leave you alone, and you get regular meals. If you don't, I'll haunt you in your nightmares and you'll starve. Got it?"

He nodded, then said yes when he realised she couldn't see.

"Great. So the first lie you told me was that the experiment that gave me my powers was an accident, and that it wasn't supposed to hurt anyone. You and I know that's not true. I know who you are. You're a racist misogynistic white man, who can't accept that there are other people in this city, this country, who deserve to be treated like equals."

Cole was confused. She did not think this was how it was going to go. Maybe something along the lines of yelling about murder and lies and all that, but definitely not this way.

He chuckled. "You've done your research. Your kind should have assimilated when we got here."

"First of all, racism. Blatant racism. But you don't care about that. You mean to tell me that your plan the whole time, was to only recruit people who fit you ideal version of a person, and also kill people who you didn't consider human?"

He tapped his nose. "Swallow was a mistake, and I never authorised your team to be recruited. I didn't even authorise her." He gestured towards Cole.

"How long have you been planning this?" Hestia but out, trying not to show her anger. Too bad the Director wasn't the one who was blind. He was smirking.

"For as long as Rhea and Zephyr Whitehead have been on the run."

A pregnant pause. "You knew my family." It wasn't a question.

. . .

My blood was boiling, and it took everything in me to not launch myself at him. I'd probably end up smacking my head into the wall or something. He knew my parents.

He knew my parents and he lied to my face.

He's known who I am this whole time. No I understood why he hates me so much. Because he's a racist misogynistic old man who can't get with the times. I'm done here. He can rot for all I care. I turned around, forgetting I was blind, again, but Cole got the idea. She lightly placed a hand on my shoulder and steered me towards the door. When we got outside she led us back to the lounge, and I sat heavily on the couch.

"Want to talk about it?" Came the soft question.

I shook my head, perplexed. "If he knew who I am this whole time, why. Why bother letting me live. Was it just ton cause me so much pain and misery? Why not just kill me?"

I felt a hand in mine. "I think," Cole said slowly, you should focus on who's alive, and who really matters. Have you even been back to the orphanage yet?"

"You're right," I murmured. "Take me there, please?"

I could practically hear her grin.

. . .

Cole was saying we were standing outside of the tall building, but I couldn't see so I'd just have to take her word for it. My hand was on her shoulder, and I was tugged along until we reached the steps. No, I did not trip. I need to get one of those canes too. I heard knocking, and steeled myself for the questions about to come.

"Hello?" I heard Helen say. "How can I help you?"

"Hi," Cole responded. "I know you don't recognise her, but this is Nessa."

Silence.

I missed my vision.

"I don't think so, Nessa is just inside." Helen remarked. Clever, lying, but you see, it really is me.

"Nessa Carter, your oldest orphan at 17, birthday April 23, has been here since she was six, and when you first met her, you gave her a stuffed parasaurolophus that she named Perry, because she couldn't pronounce the name." I smiled. "That stuffed dinosaur is in my room, on the second shelf over my bed."

"Ness?" I almost rolled my eyes. This was like a scene from a movie. Boo, too cheesy.

"Yep, hey Helen. I was captured for three months by the villains and then I was on TV and then I was recovering and now I can't see." I said all in one breath, using sarcasm to cover my emotions.

"Well," I heard. "That's certainly a good enough reason for Mason." I grinned, and I knew everything was going to be alright.

. . .

Months later, I was still getting used to being blind and in charge.

Cole was my saving grace. She really is wonderful, she did so much for me. I pressed a quick kiss to her cheek, after a few seconds of trying to find her cheek and holding her head still so I wouldn't miss. I'm great at this whole blind thing. I felt her cheek curve upwards, and smiled too.

"What do we have," I asked her, listening intently. I had noticed my hearing had gotten better since losing my vision, but I still walked into people by accident.

"Uh, a cat," she said. "Stuck in a tree." I snorted.

"Sounds like a job for our esteemed team." I leaned forward and pressed a button, speaking into the comms. "Hey losers, you're up."

#writing #writeblr #new writeblr #story #chapter update #superhero #powers #writeblogging

[its-michaelsanchezjamallyon-love]

Interview - Variety

SPOILER ALERT: Do not read ahead if you have not watched the midseason finale of “Empire,” titled “A Furnace for Your Foe,” which aired Wednesday, Dec. 14 on Fox.

“Empire” wrapped up the first half of Season 3 on Wednesday night, and no surprise here — viewers were left with a ton of cliffhangers, including the safety of many Lyon family members.

Cookie (Taraji P. Henson) found out that her boo Angelo (Taye Diggs) not only got a DUI back in the day, but a girl that was in the car with him was left to die. Jamal (Jussie Smollett) was ordered to go to rehab by his family, after hitting rock bottom. And Andre (Trai Byers) has vowed to kill his father, Lucious (Terrence Howard).

Here, “Empire” executive producer Sanaa Hamri, who directed the midseason finale, breaks down the episode. Plus, what’s up next when Season 3 returns in March?

At the end of the episode, we find out that not only did Angelo get a DUI, but there was also a girl in the car who he essentially left to die. Should we take that story for face-value? Is that really what happened in Angelo’s past?

From what we know right now, yes, absolutely. After Diana (Phylicia Rashad) didn’t follow through with her promise, Lucious decided to delve deeply and he found the truth of what really happened. I think Lucious’ whole angle is to make Cookie realize that Angelo is not who he seems to be, and is not as powerful and strong as he seems, and that he was a coward for leaving the girl to die.

So do you think that Lucious’ motive here is to really protect Cookie? Or does he just want to one-up Angelo?

I think it’s all of the above. Obviously, they have a strong bond and Lucious loves Cookie and he does not want her to be with any other man. I think that he is going to try to come in between her and Angelo even more so because Angelo is reminiscent of Barry, her high school sweetheart, who he had taken Cookie away from. So I think Lucious is very aware that Angelo is very much a probable candidate of the last people that she’s been with. I feel like he’ll do anything to break them up.

How will this new info impact Angelo and Cookie’s relationship? Is this a deal-breaker?

We’re going to have to see how she get the information from Angelo. Knowing Cookie, she wants to get all the facts and make her own decision. It’s really going to be about how strong the Lucious/Cookie bond is, and if that is going to create a fissure within her and Angelo.

The first half of this season was very much about Cookie breaking away from Lucious and finding her own independence and meeting a new man. What can we expect from Cookie in the back-half of Season 3?

She’s co-CEO so it’s going to be focused on what happens with Empire, her relationship with Lucious and if with this information, if she’ll be able to go even deeper with Angelo. I think there will be many layers going around. At the beginning of the second half [of the season], she’s specifically dealing with Jamal. He’s going to be in rehab and going through drug addiction. That’s a huge thing for a mother to deal with.

Will we see scenes of Jamal in rehab?

Yes, we will. And we’re going to go through the journey of an artist who is addicted to pain medication, and we’ll see if he’s able to overcome those demons and get through it. That is going to be very much part of Jamal’s story.

Cookie is the one who told Jamal he’s going to rehab, so how will that impact their relationship? Will Jamal resent his mother?

She did it in the smartest way by including the entire family. This was very much Lucious and Cookie coming together as parents, in order for him to go to rehab. Obviously, Lucious and Cookie are in cahoots, and I think Jamal is able to look at it as a family intervention versus just Cookie. Sure, he’s going to feel betrayed, but I think he will understand that it’s the best for him.

Why did Cookie give Jamal the pills that she threw down the sink?

It’s a few things. First, going through withdrawal is extremely painful and dangerous and something that you just have to go and get somewhere to get clean — that couldn’t happen right then and there since she can’t call 911 because it would be all over the tabloids, and she doesn’t want to see her son suffer. It’s very painful withdrawal, so I think that’s part of it. Secondly, he has to compete the show or else his career would have been over, had he not performed, and she knew that. So she figured, might as well give it to him — she didn’t want to see her son in pain, and she didn’t want to see his career ruined — and smartly enough, right after, she gets his ass to rehab.

Andre had visions of Rhonda (Kaitlin Doubleday) again and asked her to let him go. How will that pivotal moment change Andre’s path going forward?

I felt that when I directed that scene, it was pretty much a big, poetic goodbye to Rhonda. Andre is fixated and he knows what he’s about to do — he’s going to take over Empire and he’s going to get rid of his father. He’s given up all of his religiosity and has gone in the other direction. For his mental instabilities, he’s gone even more manic in that direction, and what he’s found in Nessa (Sierra McClain) is a partner who admires him for his Machiavellian ways, and that is enough for him to say goodbye [to Rhonda]. At the very end, he throws his ring into the water because he’s finally letting go of being married to her in death.

Will we see any more of Kaitlin Doubleday, who plays Rhonda, or is she done with the show?

I mean, we said goodbye to her ghost. So that’s it. It’s a big goodbye. Kaitlin plays a ghost.

At the end Andre tells Shyne (Xzibit) that he wants to kill Lucious — does he mean that literally, or just figuratively in the sense that he wants to take him down and take over Empire?

Of course he means it. He is going to kill his father. That’s his goal. He wants to kill his father. That’s what he’s going to try to do for the second half of the season. Will he be able to do it? I don’t know. He may, he may not. That’s why people are going to have to watch the show to find out. But Andre’s character is so dangerous because he has nothing to lose and he’s ruthless and he’s calculating. When he hacked Empire, nobody found out and nobody knew it was him until the very end, so obviously he knows what he’s doing. In his head, he wants to kill his dad. And we’re going to see if Lucious is going to find out or not or be in harm’s way — that’s going to be part of the journey of the second half of the season.

Will a new pact form between Shyne and Andre to take Lucious down?

Well, here’s the thing: the way we’ve left it is that we don’t know what Shyne thinks about Andre’s whole plot. Shyne wants a stake at Empire, he wants to be part of that legacy, he wants to grow his business. It will be interesting to follow Shyne and see what he’s going to do with this information — is he going to play Andre? Is he going to really go against Lucious and try to get him murdered? Or is he going to wind up telling Lucious that his son is trying to kill him?

Lucious brought Tariq (Morocco Omari) their father’s badge, but I don’t believe they’ve resolved their issues. What can we expect with Tariq and the FBI storyline when Season 3 returns?

Tariq is in deep trouble by the finale. The entire FBI is now aware that he’s related to Lucious. His job is most definitely probably in jeopardy. He’s obsessed with getting more private information about Lucious, his own father and also Leah (Leslie Uggams), and I think that Tariq’s obsession is going to get in the way of a lot of the going-ons, whether it’s with Andre and Shyne or whether it’s with Lucious. I feel like he’s the perfect mix to create even more havoc.

What will be the themes of the back-half of Season 3?

It’s going to be Andre and his rise, and what damage he’s going to do to Empire. It’s going to be about Cookie and her relationship to Lucious — how deep is their love, and will it last or will it be gone forever? We see a lot more flashbacks in which we get even more of a sense of the bond between Lucious and Cookie, and what happened in the past, so we’re going to learn so much more. And then also with Jamal, will he be able to be an artist who’s sober? Hakeem (Bryshere Gray) has a kid, and he’s trying to build this whole Takeem situation with Tiana (Serayah) — is she going to bite? And then you’ve got Nessa in the mix who’s trying to overtake and outshine Tiana because they’re all on the same label. It’s going to be a larger struggle for power, and we’re going to see if the Lyon family will be able to stay together. But I feel like the whole Andre of it all is going to be really, really intense.

#3x09 #season 3 #interview

[galivantingg]

Behind Those Eyes

Chapter 8

I woke up with a headache, what's the point of healing powers if they can't get rid of the hot poker behind my left eye. I swung my legs over the side of my bed and glanced at my side table checking the time. Instead, I noticed the date. Damnit. Of course it had to be today. I grumbled to myself and grabbed my blanket, AKA my suit, throwing it over my shoulders, not bothering to put on real clothes today. I'll be damned if I get dressed before 10 AM.

I hate this day. National Day of Truth.

I stomp out of my room and down the hall to the kitchen, spotting Legion at the counter eating eggs and bacon. That sounds like a good idea. I grabbed the egg carton and the bacon from the fridge in a huff, not looking forward to the questions the newbies will try to ask me. I clattered around and heard Legion snickering. I turned around and Pluto was standing in the doorway. Here we go. He pointed at me and asked Legion, "What's up with him?" I huffed again and turned back to my food. It smelled so good, my stomach rumbled. Legion pushed his plate to the side and leaned forward.

"It's National Day of Truth," Legion said. "Cammie hates today. She tries to avoid answering any questions."

Pluto got a look on his face, and I groaned. He was going to ask me a question. He walked over to the stove and stared directly at me, thinking. "How old are you?" Great, loved that question. If only he knew, I'd lose all my credibility.

"Old enough," I snapped. That was usually enough to get them to stop. Pluto, however, is very stubborn. How annoying.

"How many years old are you?" He tried again. For some reason that sentence didn't sound grammatically correct to me. Legion stared intently. No one in five years had gotten my age. Usually they never got to specific enough wording before I scared them off. That or the alarm went off. I waited a few moments, hoping something would call us away, but no such luck.

"Seventeen," I muttered. The kitchen was silent. I glanced over at Pluto who had his mouth wide open, and Legion, who was frowning. Great.

"Seventeen?" Pluto asked, well more like sputtered. I nodded, training my eyes on my eggs and bacon. "There's no way." He didn't believe me, of course he didn't.

"It's National Day of Truth," I spoke steadily, despite the anger slowly boiling up inside of me. "I wouldn't lie." I grabbed a plate and tilted my food onto it, turning off the stove and sitting down at the counter next to Legion. He was still frowning. He bumped his shoulder with mine, and I shot him a grateful look.

"I'm telling Met," Pluto declared, marching out of the kitchen before I could stop him. This isn't going to end well. So much for hanging around the cave today.

"Cammie," Legion said slowly. I couldn't look at him. "Can I ask you a question?" I pursed my lips, tempted to say you just did. I bit that comment back, not wanting to argue with my best friend.

"Fine," I said still not looking at him.

"How old were you, when you got hit by the lightning?" I didn't have to give him an age, I didn't. He knew that. But he helped me more than anyone this past year, after Aella died. He is my best friend, and he deserves to know more than anyone else.

"Six," I whispered hoarsely, trying not to get sucked into that night. "I was six." I wiped my face roughly and starting digging into my food, signaling this conversation was over.

. . .

The only thing I wanted to do was go home and hug little Mason, which is exactly what I did. He liked it at first, but he's a free spirit, he liked roaming around. I retreated to my room, thinking about today. I hadn't been that open since my talk with Legion months ago. It felt good to get it off my chest, at least a little bit. I sat at my desk and toyed with my pencil, still thinking. I mindlessly opened my journal and started recording, not wanting to forget anything about the past two days.

It was then that I noticed something jumped past my window. My window on the fourth floor. What the hell? I opened up my window, sticking my head out and looking to the left. I saw a figure in the darkness, leaping from roof to roof, surprisingly nimble for their size. Hang on, I thought, squinting at the back growing smaller and smaller in the distance. Isn't that Waya? I grabbed my suit and clambered out of my window, my eyes trained on the back.

My wings sprouted from my back and I took off, eating up the distance between the two of us. I circled the figure from above, then dropped right in front of them. It was Waya, but something was off in the expression, and the posture. A fake, I thought, preparing myself for a fight.

"Whoa cool!" They exclaimed. "You're Chameleon." I opened my mouth to answer, but then their body changed. Their build got smaller and thicker, mimicking the same body I was using this time. My mouth dropped open, hidden underneath my mask. "How do I look?" They struck a few poses. "Hey wait a second, you have healing powers too!"

"How the hell do you know that," I snarled. My patience with this fake was wearing thin. Nobody impersonated anyone except me. He raised up his hands in a peaceful gesture.

"Whoa whoa whoa," he said, "no need to get so defensive. I'm a new superhero," he struck another pose. "My name's Ditto, like the Pokemon." I flinched a little at the name, the memories of what happened yesterday was still too fresh. I forced myself to focus, like on the fact that that's copyright but okay I guess.

"Alright Ditto," I said. "Who contracted you?"

He shifted to another form in surprise. "Huh?" This form was taller and lanky, and most definitely a male. He had thin gangly limbs, and was wearing sweatpants, a hoodie and a ski mask. His eyes were blue, and his skin was sunkissed. I knew for sure that he hasn't been recruited by us. "What d'you mean 'contracted'?"

"I mean recruited," I said, slowly letting my guard down. This kid had no idea what was going on.

"Oh," he said, his voice dropping a little. "No I haven't, but I was hoping to run into one of you and convince you to let me join. I was hoping for someone who has been in the Agency of Superheroes longer." And that's exactly why newbies annoyed me. Yeah it my choice to remain a secret up until a few years ago but that didn't mean that had to act so haughty. I'm a Senior member, I have a lot of pull.

"You know," I said, keeping my tone light. "I can get you into the Agency. I can make you a member."

Hie eyes widened. "But you've only been a member for three years. I'd need to talk to Waya or Houdini or Aella." This time I flinched hard, so hard Ditto noticed. "What," he said, looking concerned. "What's wrong?"

I shook my head and steadied my breathing. You'd think after almost a year of not seeing her and people would assume she had died. Unless, unless the Director didn't make the announcement. Which he probably hadn't, knowing the coward.

"I can make you a member, before Initiation Day too," I pressed on, trying not to get sucked down into my memories. "Come on, I'll take you to the cave." I shifted into a plain civilian form, hoping he'd get the idea and do the same. He did. He removed his mask, revealing high cheekbones and dark skin. He'd also gotten shorter, and thicker. I walked to the edge of the roof and swung myself over, very carefully climbing my way down. Ditto on the other hand just launched himself over the edge and into the dumpster below.

Gross.

I stood to the side as he clambered his way out of the dumpster, somehow coming out pristine. We set off at a brisk pace. "So," I started, breaking the silence. "How old are you?"

He looked at me. "I'll only answer your questions if you answer them." Fine then, we're playing it that way.

"Sure," I agreed, not planning on actually answering the questions honestly. "So how old are you?"

"Sixteen," He said, looking at me then looking away. He waited for my response.

"I'm seventeen," I told the truth. I don't know why. Something about this kid, he made me feel safe. I could be his power, it could be how honest he is, or it could be the fact that he reminds me of a younger me. "What's your name?"

"Cole, short for Collette." I glanced up at this, a little surprised. I recognised that name, especially in context with the age. She's Collette Samai, the track star of grade eleven.

"You're a girl," I commented. "And you go to Littlewood Collegiate Institute."

She looked at me. "That must mean you go to Littlewood too. So, what's your name."

I paused, thinking about giving her my real name or a fake name. Should I reveal myself? "Nessa," I finally said, knowing she would know who I am. She stopped in her tracks and I turned slightly to look at her.

"No way, Nessa Carter." She gaped at me, and I shrugged my shoulders. "Huh," she said, continuing to walk again. Guess that was that.

"So, Cole," I said, keeping pace with her. "Let's get you to the cave."

It took us maybe twenty minutes to walk there, and I decided to use the same secret passage that leads to behind the fridge. Let's hope she knows how to keep a secret. I looked right and left in the kitchen before moving out from my hiding spot, leading a slightly confused Cole. We walked through the kitchen and dining room to the Briefing Room, and I was hoping that who I was looking for was still here. I poked my head into the room looking towards the computers and spotted Geronimo, Waya, Phoenix and Mazus. Perfect.

"Geronimo," I called walking into the room. They all looked towards me, and looked a little surprised to see Ditto standing behind me. "I have a partner for you. Their name is Ditto, and they've got shapeshifting powers too."

"Cammie what the hell you can't just do that." Waya said, dropping his head in his hands.

"Too bad, they're already here." I grinned. Geronimo stood up and walked over, extending her hand.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Geronimo. I hope we work well together." Ditto grasped her hand, smiling.

"Likewise," she said. "My name is Collette, but call me Cole. I go to Littlewood CI." I mentally shook my head. We had newbies but none this green.

"No way really? I know who you are!" Geronimo exclaimed. Phoenix and Mazus chimed in with a yeah me too! and a no way? I'm sensing some trouble up ahead, trouble with secret identities.

"Hey I recognise your voice!" Ditto said, pointing at Geronimo. "You're that senior, Roan." She turned to Phoenix and Mazus. "And I recognise your eyes," she said to Phoenix. "You're Jay, another senior."

At this Mazus dropped his guard and used his normal voice. I don't know why he didn't just take the voice modulator. "Jay," he got out, looking a little shocked. I recognised his voice now, and judging from Jay's reactions she did too.

"Quinn? Is that you" She lifted her mask up, revealing her full face. Quinn pulled down his mask, revealing his eyes and forehead. I already knew, but there was no denying it now.

"Hey Jay," Quinn mumbled. Then he whipped around to Roan who was standing there in shock. "Wait a second, Roan?" Roan pulled off her mask, her hair mussed and staticky. "Holy shit."

For a few minutes there was chaos. All three of them were slightly yelling at each other, asking how they could keep this a secret. I smiled a little to myself, glad they didn't know it was me. Until Cole opened her big mouth. "Nessa how come you didn't tell them?" All four pairs of eyes snapped towards us. I tried to silence her but it was no use.

"I'm sorry did you say Nessa?" Roan asked.

Ditto nodded. "Yeah, Nessa Carter, your friend?" I dropped my head into my hands and almost let a few tears of frustration escape. This is not how I wanted it to go down. Not at all.

"No way," Jay said, not believing it at all.

"Way," I said.

"I don't believe it," Quinn said.

I sighed. I still didn't want to reveal my civilian form to Waya, no matter how long we've known each other for. "We like to call you Red because Jay drew us all as wolves once and you were the red one."

Silence.

"Damn it's actually you." Jay said. "We four have a lot to talk about now don't we."

Lunches were awkward for a bit after that. And they didn't even know that Kiki is Starbright and Penny is Starlight. They were going to flip out when they all find out. Penny and Kiki knew about each other, because they're partners. I know about them because I recruited them, plus I know everyone. Poor Dani, Kiki, Penny Kieran and Oscar had no idea why things had suddenly gotten tense between me and the others.

Jay especially was a little stingy I hadn't told her. I did feel bad about it. I wanted to tell them; they're my best friends. But I couldn't. Not without revealing a few other secrets I'd rather keep buried for a while. Jay has been coldly polite with me, Quinn just acting confused and Roan, well Roan just doesn't care, apparently. She's acting the exact same. The days passed quickly, and Jay got less and less cold. Quinn was still a little confused but he returned to normal pretty quickly.

Soon came midterms. The bane of all of our existence. There was no saving us now. We ran off coffee, tea, and stolen Triscuits. Even the teachers became wary of us, never standing too close.

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #writeblogging #new writeblr #superhero #story #powers #super powers