#please accept my humble application into this fandom

[vkelleyart]

Thoughts on fandom: inclusion and engagement.

(Art credit to the kindhearted @penpanoply​!)

There’s been some stuff floating around on Tumblr about strife in the CO/WS fandom, and though I haven’t been explicitly named-dropped on anything public, my DMs have been... active. lol Rather than rehash what’s been said already, I just want to impart a little wisdom and perspective in the hopes it may soothe frayed feelings and offer a way ahead for cultivating a respectful community. As someone who has been an active participant in online fandoms since the mid-’90s, which was the advent of online fandom content creation (shout out to my fellow X-Philes!), and who has also spent a chunk of her professional life managing social media for the federal government and for activist groups, I can promise you it’s all gonna be okay.

Here’s some context for why strife happens and what we can do to create a more inclusive and communicative fandom environment. 

1) It sounds cliché, but fandoms go through growing pains. 

In the case of the Simon Snow fandom, what was once a small and cozy space untouched by cataclysmic events (such as the release of *gasp* a sequel) has grown exponentially in a relatively short amount of time following the release of Wayward Son. Newcomers are eager to find a home in this space at the same time as folks who’ve been here a while may be consciously or unconsciously wary about widening their circle, and It’s important to remember that this is not necessarily an expression of bad behavior on either side but just human psychology doing its thing. 

The byproduct, however, is that tension and stress builds over time from the lack of meaningful communication across the divide, which subsequently fuels misunderstandings. Ironically, the interfaces we use to communicate don’t help with this because any existing communication about the tension happens in tiny vacuums until a trigger goes off and bad feelings go public. 

Way Ahead: These moments of destabilization are opportunities to see where we can be more self aware about how we engage with fandom and the kind of community we want to be. Can you promote, support, or befriend someone trying to gain a foothold? If yes, please do! Each person must reach their own decision about what they can do within the confines of their available energy, health, and time, but a little self awareness goes a long way as long as you’re honest with yourself and others if applicable about what you can contribute. Anyone who judges you for it isn’t worth the strife.

2) In a fandom comprised of vulnerable/marginalized people, it’s more accurate to say that cliques are “bubbles of trust.”

This one's important. Just by nature of the source material, the CO/WS fandom includes fans with a wide array of backgrounds and experiences, especially when it comes to those who identify with the characters’ queerness, mental illness, and/or trauma. I really believe––based on individual conversations/group chats––that the difficult lived experiences that so many of our fandom peers have endured has produced one of the most open, aware, and accepting fandoms I’ve had the pleasure of participating in. Our vulnerability is, in a real way, our strength.

That said, a community of survivors also has the side effect of cultivating small circles of engagement that I call “bubbles of trust.” When you’re a survivor of abuse, marginalization, mental illness, fill-in-the-blank, it’s often quite hard to risk casting a wide net and expanding your circle to include new faces––which can subsequently be internalized by equally sensitive and vulnerable newcomers as rejection, judgement, or inadequacy.

Way Ahead: First of all, there may indeed be gatekeeping and exclusion going on. But before internalizing someone’s cagey behavior as gatekeeping or purposely exclusionary, ask yourself if you have all the information. Many people are private (I include myself in this assessment) because life has regrettably taught them to be this way, and so they may insulate themselves to a small group of people who have earned their trust. Some people might also triggered by certain content (case in point: smut triggers my anxiety) so they don’t engage with it. Others might have something in their pasts that define how they handle certain subjects (for example, a person of color should not be tone policed for getting angry when confronted with a racialized microagression, however accidental it was). You just don’t know what you don’t know. 

The solution here is to regularly check your privilege and ask questions in a private space if you sense you’re being treated unfairly by someone. If you go public with your grievances in hopes of mobilizing the mob, you may accidentally find yourself stepping into the role of the aggressor instead of the victim.

3) Social Media is not built to help you get engagement. It’s built to help itself make money off of you.

Repeat after me: Hits/likes are not a measurable indicator of talent or worth. There are ridiculously talented folks on Tumblr and elsewhere who, for whatever reason, haven’t had their viral moment, and it’s not their fault. Loads of factors come into play where things like likes, reblogs, and comments are concerned, among them being posting frequency, subject matter, the time of day, the day of the week, the week of the month, the month of the year, the current administration, the stock exchange, the concentration of middle class users, who just won the Superbowl, a madman trying to steal an election and undermine the democratic process, a PANDEMIC, do you get where I’m going with this?? lol

At the end of the day, my humble successes have been helped along by good luck, good timing, high profile signal boosters, and an absurd amount of work. (This is why I try to signal boost new work whenever I get a chance over at @vkelleyshares.) 

So while you cannot control Tumblr’s interface, trends at large, or your fellow users, here’s what you can do to ensure you give your work the best possible chance of exposure.

Have an image ready to go with your post. Tumblr is a visual platform (no matter what it says about being good for text). Not good with images? Set up a Canva.com account and get access to free graphic software with a gazillion templates to create whatever attractive image you want to attach to your post.

Keep the outward facing text brief and easy on the eyes. Too long and eyes will glaze over. Put excess text behind a “read more.”

You may think you’re being cute when you do this, but don’t put yourself down in your posts. (Don’t put yourself down in general, of course.) Doing so acts as engagement repellant. If you don’t believe in your work, no one else will.

Related: Be your best cheerleader. Confidence is a magnet, and if you don’t have it, go ahead and fake it until you start to convince yourself you are worth the buzz. So promote yourself! You have gifts that only you can impart. Use that knowledge to fuel everything you do from your art/fiction writing to your outreach with other content creators, and by golly, if someone’s done it already, acknowledge that contribution and then tell the world that this is YOUR unique take on it.

Treat your fellow fandom creators as human beings, not art/fiction/content boosting machines. I cannot count how many times I’ve had folks slide into my DMs with offers of friendship only to disappear once they realize I’m not available to draw a picture for their fic. It hurts because it’s manipulative and it makes me want to hole up and not signal boost anyone. Creators who truly support each other will not give off a transactional vibe. I want to help you reach more people, but not if that’s all I’m good for in your eyes. 

The long and short of it: Lead with compassion, do your best with the opportunities at  your disposal, and remember that fandom belongs to everyone in it. ❤️

What saves a fandom made of sensitive and vulnerable souls from imploding when it goes through growing pains is radical compassion from those who can offer it. Begin with the assumption that your fellow fandomers are not trying to harm you, and wade into the water knowing that your insight into the lives of your peers is limited by default and you may need to temper your words or actions accordingly. If you’re a content creator, save compassion for yourself as well, as there are indeed challenges to gaining an audience, and lack of engagement does not mean you lack talent or skill. Be your best advocate, and if you have the bandwidth to lift up a fellow creator and make a new friend, please, go ahead do it! 

And finally, fandom belongs to everyone, and no one has a monopoly on characters, tropes, or themes. Create and consume what you love (with respect for your more vulnerable peers), and bask in the variety, my friends!

That’s all I’ve got in my head at the moment, although I’m sure there’s more I’m forgetting. Thanks so much to @penpanoply for letting me use her art for this and to everyone else, hang in there and try not to judge each other too harshly. These are unprecedented times, and most of us are doing our best in circumstances that are pushing us to our limits. 

As always, if you have questions or want to sound off on anything, shoot me a message or an ask, or ping me on Discord. It might take me a second to respond (thanks, Covid) but I’ll get to it! Love, love, and more love to all.

#fandom stuff

[enigmalynne]

Something to be Thankful For

Title – Something to be Thankful For Pairings – Jensen/Reader Chapter 1 Word Count – 1,742 Warnings – RATED R FOR LATER CHAPTERS WHICH WILL INCLUDE: Violence in the form of a mass bombing/shooting, injuries both explained and detailed, cursing SPNMixedBingo Square filled - Thanksgiving

Jensen walked into his usual coffee shop with a smile on his face. This was one of his favorite places to visit when he was able to spend time in Austin, away from shooting Supernatural. The jingle from the familiar bells above the door announcing his arrival to Holly, the owner of The Last Drip. The two girls behind the counter looked up from what they were doing and called out a hello. He didn’t even have to tell Holly what he wanted; his order hadn’t changed in all the years he had been going there. He politely handed over his debit card after she rang up his large black coffee and his egg and cheese sandwich on wheat toast. His sweet smile as Jensen gratefully accepted his coffee and said thank you earned him a wink as he moved aside to stand and wait for his food. As he waited, he looked thoughtfully around the café.

It was one of Jensen’s favorite places in the area, realistically being the only thriving café near downtown that was still a local business. Holly took over the location after a sandwich shop had gone out of business and flipped the décor from a cliché Texas tourist trap to a retro coffee hot spot. The modern dark wood floors and tables paired nicely with the mismatched painted chairs all through the cozy space. Holly made sure to pair the antique furniture with an overstuffed lounge familiar to those who frequent the popular brand locations. Jensen genuinely loved it. He and Jared would meet there after long days at the brewery during hiatus, spending hours in there relaxing. Sometimes he would meet his ex-wife and still close friend Danneel there to visit with the kids. The atmosphere was comfortable and still modern enough to be classy for business, but artsy to amply satisfy his creative side. As he was looking around, an unfamiliar woman caught his eye. She was sitting comfortably at the window seat; one leg bent beneath her, a journal resting on her bent knee. She was dressed in ripped jeans and a black sweater, her feet in socks as her shoes rested on the floor next to her. “Your usual breakfast sandwich,” Holly said, handing the item out. “Who’s the new girl in the window seat?” Jensen asked Holly as he took his breakfast from her. “I haven’t seen her around here before.” Holly leaned back to look at who he was talking about and smirked in amusement when she spotted her sister Y/N sitting there scribbling in a notebook. “That? Oh, that’s Y/N, my sister from Florida. She just moved to Austin to work with the Sheriff’s Office. You should go say hi!” Holly exclaimed enthusiastically. Jensen stared at Y/N and smiled fondly. “Y/N …” he muttered as he carefully looked at her, testing how her name felt on his tongue as he watched her reposition her legs to get more comfortable, fingers pushing a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “Jensen… Jensen?” Holly said with a smirk. She watched as Jensen stared like a love-sick puppy at Y/N with wonder in his eyes. Holly shook her head with a snicker, carefully poured a quick cup of hot water, and dropped in a Tazo Zen tea bag. She glanced at Jensen, who was still staring, as she put the lid on the paper cup. Setting the cup in front of him, she snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Hey, Romeo!” “Huh? What?” he asked, startling and looking over at her. He realized that he was staring at Holly’s sister and got embarrassed. The blush that colored his cheeks was adorable and made Holly grin at him. “Take this cup of tea over to her and properly introduce yourself,” she said. When he didn't take the drink, she scooted the cup closer to him. Holly smirked, putting a hand on her hip. Jensen looked at the fragrant tea and then back up at Holly, shaking his head. “No. I mean, should I? She looks busy,” he said cautiously, looking over at her again. Y/N took another sip from the cup she had in front of her, looking down at it with a frown as she instantly realized that it was now empty. Holly’s smirk turned into a kind smile, aware of Jensen’s shy side. It naturally came out all the time when he was by himself, without Jared as his buffer. “Yes, you should. Take that with you. Make a good impression, Handsome,” Holly said softly. With a reassuring nod, turning away to make another customer’s coffee. Jensen looked at the tea Holly put in front of him and sighed. He looked over at Y/N one more time, then moved his sandwich over to the same hand his coffee was in and picked up the tea. Slowly and cautiously, he walked over to where Y/N was sitting. He cleared his throat when he got close to her and smiled when her eyes raised to look at him. Jensen blushed when he noticed the surprised recognition in her eyes. “Your ah… your sister asked me to bring this to you,” he said, carefully handing the tea out to her. Y/N’s eyes widened as she pointed eagerly to him. “You… you’re Jensen Ackles…” she said softly. Jensen chuckled a little and nodded his head.

“Yeah,” he said humbly, holding out the paper cup a little farther. Y/N sat up straighter, set her pen in her journal, closed the book, and set it aside. She reached out to carefully take the paper cup he was brought her. “Jensen Ackles is bringing me…” she lifted the lid of the cup he handed her. “…my favorite tea.” Jensen laughed wryly at this and shook his head. She looked back up at him. “Wow.” Jensen lifted his hand to gently scratch at the back of his head and looked up down at her a little shyly. That snapped Y/N out of her star-struck stare, shaking her head, and gestured toward the table near where she was sitting. “Oh, my God. I’m so sorry. I’m an idiot. Hi. Please, sit down. Thank you for the tea. I’m Y/N Y/L/N. You…” she stuttered out. Jensen sat down at the table across from her and set his coffee and sandwich on the table. “I take it you know who I am, but yeah… I’m Jensen. You’re a fan?” he asked tentatively. Y/N nodded. “Huge fan. Since season 1. It’s my guilty pleasure,” Y/N said. Holly watched as they started talking, smiling to herself. Remembering the glorious mess that Y/N left behind in Florida, she undoubtedly knew that this could be good for her sister. Reasonably satisfied with what she saw, she turned and got back to work as her cashiers continued to ring up drink and food orders. “So, Holly said something about you moving here from Florida?” Jensen said, opening the wrapper to his breakfast sandwich. Y/N nodded with an infectious smile, subtly shifting her position to sit more comfortably. “Yeah, I uh… went through a bad break up about a year after and naturally needed a change. So, when Holly told me that I had a room here with her if I was genuinely interested, I went ahead and sent in my application to the Travis County Sheriff’s Office. Three weeks later, it was a thing. Put in my papers and packed up my meager belongings. Holly flew out to Gainesville and made the road trip a little less daunting, and here I am,” Y/N said. If Jensen was startled by the start of her story, he didn’t show it. Y/N looked down at the hot cup of tea in her hands, smiling softly at it. “I’m sorry about the breakup,” Jensen said softly. Y/N looked back up at him with a gentle shake of the head. “Don’t be. It realistically was a long time coming,” Y/N said just as softly. Her kindly smile turned sad. “Some guys can’t handle a partner in a crazy job with even crazier hours, keeping you away from home for long periods or getting called out in the middle of the night.” Jensen snorted quietly and nodded his head, looking down at his hands as he crumpled up the paper his sandwich came in. Y/N paused for a long moment, and then looked contrite. “But… you probably know all about that, don’t you? I’m sorry to hear about your divorce, Jensen. I’m sure that couldn’t have been easy,” she said soothingly. Jensen looked up at Y/N with unspeakable sadness in his brilliant eyes. His charming smile, small as it was, was genuine. “It wasn’t. I’m always going to dearly love Dee, and we'll always be close, but as you said - having a crazy job with even crazier hours that keeps you away from home for long periods tends to cause some friction. Sometimes the writing is on the wall. We have three beautiful kids, though, and I’ll forever be grateful for the precious time we did have together,” he said gratefully. That made Y/N smile widely. “And that’s all that matters in the end. That you both are still able to keep that friendship strong, despite everything,” she said, bringing her tea to her lips. Jensen stared at her, his eyes filling with wonder for a moment. That wasn’t the reaction he was realistically expecting from her. Y/N looked at him quizzically. “What?” she eagerly questioned. Jensen simply shook his head with a light scoff. “Just… not the reaction I expected, honestly. Most everybody else tends to get excited to see me as a free man. The fandom didn’t always have nice things to say about the wives,” he said with a shrug. Y/N smirked and leaned forward as if to eagerly tell

Jensen a well-kept secret. “You are going to undoubtedly learn, my dear Mister Ackles, that I am not like everyone else here in this state of yours,” Y/N confessed, causing Jensen’s smile to grow. “Is that so, Miss Y/L/N?” he questioned her. Y/N nodded solemnly at him. “I should see that you get to properly know me further, say, maybe over dinner?” Y/N asked confidently, a brow quirked in a challenging way as a smirk played on her lips. Jensen faked offense at her offer, huffing a scoff at her indignantly. “Miss Y/L/N! You undoubtedly stole my line!” he exclaimed joyfully. This naturally caused Y/N to chuckle.

Supernatural:

@akshi8278 @vicmc624 @agirlwithdemonblood @flamencodiva @hobby27 @mimaria420 @compresshischest09 @kkrivers

Jensen/Dean Taglist

@deandreamernp @siospins @sacriceria

#spnmixedbingo #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #spn fic #spnfandom #supernatural #dean Winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester au #supernatural au #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural reader insert #supernatural x reader #Dean au #dean winchester x you #winchester au #hurt!reader #Cop!reader #jensenackles #Jensen x reader #jensen fanfic #Jensen x y/n #jaredpadelecki #JensenAcklesFanfiction #JensenAcklesFanfic

[trantrumsfromthevoid]

O hai derr fran, it's me ur hooman.

Anyway, this is probably definitely going to be long bc I have no self-control. But basically this isn't the first time I've looked for a buddy and it probably won't be the last, either. I've been role-playing since 2008 and have been on every imaginable server. I've hoped on every "trendy" site and played just about every kind of character. Well, I've played a lot of characters, anyway. In 2017 I decided to take a hiatus because I was dealing with some traumatic things at the time, as well as growing tired of the sites that were being offered. In the years since I haven't been able to fully get back into the swing of things (RP wise) and I haven't joined a site in awhile.

Because of the stuff that was going on in my personal life, I kinda grew out of the RPC. The sites that I see today all look similar and there seems to be a very specific order to become a "successful" member of a site. It's almost like you have to follow a formula or something? I don't mean to offend, that's just how I see it. I grew tired of doing the same thing again and again and again, and not being able to find fulfillment. At the same time, in order to appease my need to write and have a creative outlet, I created a site on Jcink (it's nothing fancy, especially given today's RP standards) where I write and do ... a bunch of whatever, I suppose. It's nothing fancy, but it achieves its purpose of providing a place for me to write online. Hopefully that makes sense to you? I'm not really sure how to explain it.

That all being said, occasionally I'll pop my head into various resource sites and see if anyone wants to join me on my wild and crazy ride. I get lonely and crave interaction, and would love to find a true "RP buddy"/friend. Now, if you've stuck with me and you're still reading (congrats first and foremost), here's a little bit about me, RP-wise.

x Real life/slice-of-life plots are probably my number one trope/source of inspiration. I love having a plot set in some cute little Mayberry-like town and that sort of thing. xx I love exploring the dynamics of older couples (35 and older), couples who've been together for many years, and/or couples who've been together for awhile and have older children. x Supernatural (vampires, werewolves, mermaids, etc) comes in at a close second. Vampires have a very special place in my heart, as the first character I ever created for an online RP was a vampire. xx While small towns are great, I also really enjoy the whole "Welcome to Night Vale"/"Twin Peaks" vibe. Not necessarily those fandoms specifically, but a town that's kinda odd; maybe has a little bit of a creepy vibe. A town where everyone and everything is odd and everyone accepts it. x I love familial plots, as well as friendship plots. Or anything that's non-romantic. "Found families" are awesome and deserve a lot more love. xx I think angels x demons, aliens, and mermaids are vastly under-served in the RPC and would definitely be down for doing something with said creatures. x I have a 60-40 male-to-female ratio (meaning I plan males more than females). My characters are usually heterosexual, but if a plot is interesting (or I get inspired), I have no qualms playing a LGBTQ+ character. xx Ages for my characters range between between 21 - 65. Anyone younger than 18 is treated as an NPC. I always use real life face claims. x As far as "triggers" go, the only thing for me is that I don't RP smut, as it makes me uncomfortable. I simply fade to black or skip to the next morning. I don't mind the "build up" (kissing, flirting, maybe a little dirty talk) but the actual deed itself is a no-go. Otherwise, I don't mind exploring the dynamics of other "taboo" topics, so long as it's discussed and agreed upon by both parties. xx WC is usually in the 300 - 500 range. Sometimes I can write more, it all depends on my muse and what I'm given to work with. x I love character development via pinterest, gifs, quotes, wardrobes, pictures of their home/vehicles, little blurbs, that sorta thing. Applications are evil in my humble opinion. xx I don't like to RP to many fandoms, but the ones that I have are near and dear to my heart. I love a good, dark HP plot; something set in the Marauder's Era or before. Or something set directly after the Battle of Hogwarts and/or Harry's death. Give me all the HP angst, bby. FYI, I'd love to do a dark!Durmstrang plot and I have a few ideas for such. Just saying. Other fandoms would include Percy Jackson and the Olympians, The Twilight Saga, and maybe a live action Avatar: The Last Airbender.

As far as me personally, I'm a thirty-four-year-old female who lives on the east coast USA. I would prefer that my partner be at least 25, or 21 at the absolute youngest. If nothing else, at least be an adult. I'd love for my partner to be on the east coast as well. This isn't a complete deal-breaker but it's definitely something I take into consideration if we're several time zones apart. I'm not willing to stay up all hours of the night (or day) in order to RP. Been there, done that. Plus, as someone who has to "adult" in the real world, I can't pull all-nighters anymore. Most nights I'm off the internet by about 8:30 pm and I'm not on my laptop (where I role-play) everyday. I am on my laptop about five days a week. I'm not exactly the most talkative person and I don't like having to discuss everything in minor, minute detail with my partner. As long as we're in agreement about "triggers", the plot, and we both have a basic sense of our characters, that's all I need to know. After that I'd prefer that our plots and/or other forms of character development do the talking. I realize I may sound a bit harsh, but I'm one of those "conceal, don't feel" types, ngl. But with time, consistency, and patience, I do open up.

Last thing, I promise. I would love to see some sort of writing sample from you. It doesn't have to be a post, I'd just like to see how you write; how you make words and ideas "flow." Is English your first language or is that something you need to disclose? Have you been writing for awhile or is this your first go 'round? Is it coherent? Like I said, you can submit whatever you like, as long as it allows me to get a clear sense of you and your writing. Whatever you submit, please make sure that it's at least 200 words. If you'd like a writing sample from me, that's fine, but ... I mean ... I've written like 97 pages for you. Hopefully you have a sense of my writing style already. But if not, I'm happy to give you something.

Ok, wow! That was so! many! words!!! I do apologize for the multitude of paragraphs but hopefully this will help you and I both in our search for a buddy. Feel free to PM me here, respond to this thread, or PM me for my discord. Thanks for reading and I hope you find what you're looking for. Live long and prosper.

#rp #roleplay #jcink #jcink roleplay #jcink rp #jcink rp buddy #buddy search #1x1 roleplay #1x1 rp #rp search #roleplay search #looking for rp

[diveronarpg]

Congratulations, PARKER! You’ve been accepted for the role of LAERTES. Admin Minnie: It’s absolutely not a secret that we’ve been waiting for Lawrence for a long time, and boy did you deliver. Your characterization was distinct, your voice was so clear and your plots — Parker, your plots had me so excited and literally vibrating in my seat to see it all unfold. And trust me, I just came back from a long day of meetings and hours of driving and a flight; it took a lot for me to feel energized this evening. The way you brought Lawrence to life was so vivid and unforgettable in your application, and I have no doubt you’re going to do the same on our dash. Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Parker

Age | 19

Preferred Pronouns | He/him

Activity Level | So here’s the tea, right? I’m a college student who never learned how to set up a schedule that doesn’t suck and am highly involved in student government because I am poor and it pays for my housing and meals. So when it comes to the school year, I’m busy. I’m hella busy, so I’ll probably do replies on the weekends and at ungodly hours in the morning for the vast majority of the year. However, this semester is coming to a close and as long as I survive finals, I’ll have five weeks where I can be on every single day!

Timezone | Mountain Standard Time (MST)

How did you find the rp?  | My cousin showed it to me during Thanksgiving, of all the wacky things! She’s big into RP and she knows how much I love Shakespeare, and she thought I’d like this group. I thought I’d try and enter her world and see if I also like RP’ing/actually writing consistently with a set goal in mind.

IN CHARACTER

Character | Laertes - Lawrence Alvise Vernon. I absolutely adore Kendrick Sampson as Lawrence, so no faceclaim changes from me!

What drew you to this character? | So, I have a gut feeling this is going to get pretty long, so please bear with me. I think the first part that attracted me to Lawrence was the character he’s based off of. Hamlet was the first Shakespeare play I read, liked, and understood (though not in that order I don’t think). It was really awesome to see a character from something that had such a huge impact on me and what I want to do with my life still open and available! And Laertes is so important to that original story, even if the tragic Danish boyfriends overshadow him in the general story and in the fandom. The OG story doesn’t function as a tragedy without Laertes and the emotional impact of that last act and a half is only tear-inducing, to me, if Laertes was there. The story just needs him there, you know? One of the reasons I picked him to apply with is because I hoped the same could be said about the story of Diverona and I wanted to play that kind of role in a group filled with characters I think are awesome.

But it isn’t all source material that lead me to pick Lawrence, oh no! Lawrence is, as his bio shows, driven by a near all-consuming need for approval. He’s willing to keep pushing towards and striving for goals that would be completely out of reach if it wasn’t for his absolute, burning need to prove that he is capable of meeting those goals and surpassing them. For Lawrence, he expects that one receives love only if its been earned. He was never told that he was enough on his own merit and so the idea that he, as a person, is worthy has never crossed his mind, which is an absolutely tragedy! However, it’s something I understand and looking at that aspect of his character, I felt I’d be able to do it justice because I deal with a very similar thing far too often for it to be healthy.

However, there was one part of  the bio that convinced be Lawrence was the character I had to try and get into this group with. Lawrence is a genuinely good person that has had to push that goodness aside to become someone his father prefers and someone his father would give the underboss title too. He isn’t, as you stated, cruel, but he has learned that in order to advance, he has to step on people, he must control every little itsy thing, and he must, above all, be perfect. But! Despite all these lessons, he is still a good egg! A good bean! I really appreciated you all making sure that was evident in his bio and it was really the thing that convinced me to apply for him!

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? |

Plot One - Little Sister, You’re All That I Know: So, we’re starting off with the most important plot of all, said from the perspective of another older brother to a younger sister. From what I can tell, the Vernon siblings are both extraordinarily in love with people, but not because of any other reason than the fact that they’re people. Or, at least, they were, up until Lawrence got so angry at Verona for daring to kill his father that he single-handedly took up the pitchforks and torches to make those responsible for that death pay. In the meantime, he’s managed to completely smother and override his sister’s opinion and free will which is so incredibly not good, even if it is well-intentioned. I want Lawrence to learn to back off, to trust his sister, and to learn that as strong as he is alone, he’s much stronger with his sister at his back. I imagine the jumpstart for this would be Odessa doing something really awesome, maybe even saving Lawrence’s life. By proving in a very direct way that she would be able to look after herself, that would allow Lawrence to begin backing off, to release the reigns of control, and trusting her to take care of herself in a way their father never imagined. Unfortunately, Lawrence is stubborn. He won’t change unless someone else kickstarts that change by being extremely impressive. Which is… Not ideal but it is, however, the only way I see that change happening.

Plot Two - Throw Me in the Delorean and it Never Happened: The thing about anger is that it is all-consuming. The thing about vengeance is that it is blinding. And the thing is: when you’re running on both and only on both, you are going to make a mistake. Lawrence is so desperate to be perfect that realizing he made a mistake would be devastating. So you know what I want? I want him to make an absolutely disastrous mistake and I want him to kill the wrong person that he was convinced was involved in the plot to kill his father. Think of it as his own blind stabbing through a curtain without checking to see who was on the other side. I want it because there is nothing like realizing your oopsie resulted in the loss of someone that should have seen the next sunrise to shake the foundations of your conviction. It would be perfect as it would show Lawrence he isn’t infallible and he isn’t perfect, no matter how hard he tries to be Personally, I’d love if he makes a go at a Montague and is forced to also check is loyalty and conviction to the family he’s worked with since he was a little boy. This could easily evolve from him keeping an eye on someone and completely misinterpreting what they’ve been up to and acting rashly. I feel like his failure of judgement would leave the Montagues shaken and reeling and it would further destabilize the city, which is frankly a big yes please from me. I also want Lawrence to try and cover his failure up and fail miserably. That’s really just because I feel like it would be a very interesting character study to see how Lawrence deals with trying to hide the evidence of his imperfection and doesn’t have a lot to do with Verona as a city, but alas, I am just a humble writer too focused on the golden boy and recognize that aspect of this may not come to play at all.

Plot Three: The Beauty of a Broken Bust: In the biography, you wrote that “he was put on a pedestal so high that a fall might’ve shattered him”. That foundation he’s on isn’t the sturdiest of things at the moment, considering the person that made that base is now dead. So, I want him to shatter and break apart. I want the pieces that had made him up, the pieces that he has forced to make him up to go flying to who knows where, leaving Lawrence with nothing else to do but to rebuild himself entirely without his father’s influence. This would change his perspective on the war as well as his relationships with nearly every character in this RP. It would also force him to confront the actions and choices he made while trying to become someone his father would be proud of. I truly believe this is something he must eventually go through because the person he is trying to be for a dead man isn’t sustainable nor is it healthy! Something has got to change and that something is code for Lawrence. I can see this happening because of the death of his sister, a very personal betrayal from inside the Montague family, or from the plot I mentioned directly above. If Lawrence stays the way he is, however, he’s going to burn himself out before he can give the Vernon name any sort of justice and he has to accept that. The issue with this plot is that he’s so stubborn and this happening would require a push so strong I’m not entirely sure I want to see it. (That’s a lie, I absolutely do want to see it, but my internal dramatics insisted that I state it that way.)

Plot Four - Now Would You Kindly: Now, I know y’all said three plots and I hear you, but I have more ideas and I want to share them! The first of these extra ideas is that it is a truth universally acknowledged by Montagues, Capulets, and Vernons alike that Alvise was not a good man. Lawrence knows this, Roman knows this, the pigeons that litter the city know this. I want evidence of his wrongdoings to come swinging back and to slap Lawrence so hard that he’s forced to question if the footsteps of his father are ones worth following. Maybe it’s in the form of letters of blackmail or an investigation into how many innocent people he helped kill, but I want it to happen and I want the evidence to be so overwhelming it almost drowns Lawrence. He’s spent a very long time pushing down what he wants to be for what his father wants him to be and I want Lawrence to question if it’s really been worth it, if that kind of person has been worth the outrageous effort he’s put in to make it happen. And maybe that person isn’t someone Odessa wants to be related to, which is something I think would absolutely impact Lawrence’s decision. She is his last living blood relative, after all.

Plot Five - I’m the King of the Castle: In Lawrence’s mind, I have no doubt that he believes he should be the Montague underboss now that he is back in town. He has, after all, fought for it, cried for it, and killed for it. However! He is not the underboss and that has no doubt rubbed him the wrong way. So, I want him, in his crusade to avenge his father, to also do his best to prove how perfect he is for the underboss role. I want him to leap into impossible jobs and to push down his morals yet again and brush on a mask of cruelty because he wants it, he deserves it, and it his in his name and therefore his legacy that he has the blasted title of underboss! He needs to fight for it and I want that fight to be obvious and also just flat-out brutal to observe.  I don’t know if I actually want him to get it, if I’m being completely honest. Him having the title also raises some issues about what he did to get there, issues I want to explore, however I feel that such a role would push Lawrence too far in one direction on that vague scale of morality and loyalty he currently exists on and I kinda want him to keep waffling on it for as long as possible. This could change however! Especially with plotting. And I recognize that, so I will say that the core of this plot is his fight for the role of underboss and less about what would happen if he got it.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | Yeah, I’m ok with that! It would really suck, especially given how the Vernon family has been absolutely just. Destroyed. Uprooted. Left unmoored and drifting in the wind like last week’s laundry. But that same instinct that tells me that killing Lawrence would a) sprinkle in some awesomeness that is the original source material in a very satisfying way and b) would upend Verona even more than its already been, giving and taking motivations from people and maybe driving the rest of the Montague family just absolutely over the deep-end, which I would pay actual, real-life money to see. The slow destruction of the Vernon family is the slow destruction of Verona herself which means there is some drama to be had in Lawrence’s death! And I do love drama.

IN DEPTH

In-Character Interview (I only did two, please let me know if you want more!):

“What has been your biggest mistake thus far?”

Lawrence swallowed, face kept carefully still to give nothing away. Answers sprung to the tip of his tongue, eager to leap forward like hounds released from their kennel, but opening that door would destroy a lot more than just Lawrence’s reputation. Indeed, the perfect tool should not have so many answers to that question, but perhaps, Lawrence mused, his time away had done something to his obedience.

He stalled for time by taking a sip of the drink he had been neglecting in the warm Italian air. It was now unpleasantly lukewarm as the golden heat of the day made its way into the glass but it was better than nothing. It was only as he took a small sip that an answer sprung to mind, one that was both truthful and good for the image he was attempting to maintain.

“I have to say it was leaving the city,” he commented, returning the glass to the table. “I… left for reasons I am proud of, especially because there’s nothing wrong with being educated in this world. But if I had stayed, I could have done something!” Lawrence’s fist hit the table, making the glass and girl across from him jump. The sudden burst of temper was gone as quickly as it had arrived as his hand opened and his shoulders relaxed. “If I had stayed, this all wouldn’t have happened and a great man would still be with us. But I didn’t and now my father is dead.” He shrugged, meeting the girl’s eyes and hoping she wouldn’t see the emotion carried in them. “If I had come back earlier, Verona would be a very different place.”

“What are your thoughts on the war between the Capulets and the Montagues?”

His jaw clenched so tightly, a particularly attentive listener could hear his teeth protest the treatment. Lawrence’s hand held the chair like it was the only thing keeping him from leaping across the room to punch the smugly smirking man in the nose. “Just because I’ve only recently returned,” he gritted out, “does not mean I have gone turncoat. There is nothing,” he spat out, “nothing in this city more justified or honorable.”

His body eased the tension that it had so rapidly adopted as he noticed the nervous twitches and aborted movements to concealed weapons that had begun filling the room. As he eased, the rest of the room did too. “But you’re wrong,” Lawrence continued quietly, though there was no mistaking the vehmance leaking from his mouth like poison. “This isn’t a war. This is justice long overdue and more than earned. To call it a war is to imply the Montagues are not fully in the right.”

Lawrence took a deep breath, exhaling some of the passion he had been speaking with not long before. “I wish it wasn’t the loss of my fath–” His voice cracked and Lawrence swallowed, once, before continuing. “Alvise that had caused it, but it is only makes this city all that more dangerous for the Capulets. Because now I am back in Verona and I am coming for every single one with Vernon blood on their hands.” Perhaps it was dramatic, but the ice-cold certainty that hung in Lawrence’s voice stole any humor from the proclamation.

In-Character Para Sample:

He was eight years old, holding a pistol in shaking hands barely large enough to operate the thing. A slowly expanding puddle of red licked at his new shoes, staining them from cream to what would, by tomorrow, be an ugly brown. The shoes were what Lawrence focused on, the shoes and their new color. Because if he didn’t, if he looked up, he’d see the man slumped against the wall like a marionette without strings. If he looked up, he’d see the evidence of his actions.

Larger hands took the gun from Lawrence, trying and failing to be gentle. He wasn’t large enough to stop Alvise, though he wouldn’t even if he could. If his father took the gun, he could also take the body and the unbearable weight of its existence. Lawrence knew his father could fix anything, make any problem go away, and so he let the gun go. Maybe his father would fix this too. The two said nothing to each other as large men quietly entered the room, cleaning it, restoring it under the watchful eye of a king of Verona. Lawrence kept his eyes on his shoes.

Before long, Lawrence had been bundled into a car. The gun and body were gone as were his shoes. The next morning, there would be a new pair of shoes, cream and pristine, sitting at the foot of his bed. They stayed there, untouched, until Lawrence outgrew them.

He was thirteen at a new school, all restless energy that danced under his skin because, for the first time in his life, he was allowed to play a sport. He chose football, of course, but the black and white ball came with strings he never anticipated. Fitness was never the problem, it was balancing practice with everything else. Which bruise came from cleats and which came from fists during sparring was never an easy distinction, but as he got better at the sport, he began to look more and more like a poster child for the American Child Services.

It was a lack of sleep that ultimately did him in, made him sloppy. Alvise pulled him aside one Sunday morning before the sun graced the tops of Verona’s rooftops and told him to choose, choose between the sport and his last name. It was presented as a choice freely given, but the look in Alvise’s eyes made it clear it was anything but.

Lawrence quit the football team the next day, despite thinking that if he just kept with it, he could have made the national team. Somewhere, in a shoebox in the back of a closet, are a barely-used pair of cleats.

He was sixteen, armored inside a jacket of patches and studs, the handmade messages stitched to the outside screaming his fury at the world. There was a funeral scheduled that afternoon and Lawrence wasn’t going to be able to make it. The jacket weighed heavy on his back as he cursed Verona and the Montague name for letting his friend, the only one not tied to his father’s world, die because of it anyway.

But Lawrence was needed elsewhere that afternoon, Alvise’s steady gaze still hanging heavy across his back though the man had left some time ago. That coffin was going to go into the ground and with it, the boy affectionately nicknamed “Ray” by the body in that coffin was going to be buried too. The patches that the two had spent so long on, the quiet acts of teenage rebellion and freedom would join the nickname, and Lawrence would once again become the son of Alvise.

No one among the Montague family was going to mourn the dead civilian from two weeks before. No one but Lawrence, and he screamed it from the rooftop. It was only when his throat ached and the fire inside him was less of an inferno that he left the roof and changed into a suit. Alvise needed him elsewhere, and he was never one to disappoint. Lawrence pretends he lost the jacket, even though he knows exactly which trunk it’s collecting dust in.

He was twenty-two when he took the role of captain, the final stepping stone before Alvise’s throne, it seemed. It struck him like a plank of wood across the face when he realized being a Vernon wasn’t enough. His soldiers would listen, and yes, they’d do what he’d ask, but they lacked the respect they gave his father. For the first time, he needed to be more than a Vernon and he rose to the challenge with relish.

He never learned to address them like his father, a man who had perfected the harsh bark that made every muscle in a body snap to immediate attention. That seemed to be a skill reserved exclusively for the man Lawrence knew he needed to become. He never perfected it, but he did learn how to get close enough to command respect and the focus of a room. Then the Vernon name dripped from those around him, praising him for how like his father he was. But that wasn’t enough anymore.

He was twenty-four when he left Verona, determined to outshine his father. It wasn’t enough to just be a Vernon, he had to be better than that. He doesn’t talk about that time with Veronans, the free laughter and the hours spent in a library, writing essays on things he only cared about because they were things to outdo his father. But even as Alvise hung like a ghost over his shoulder, he was still thousands of miles away. His weight that had hung over Lawrence was lifted, and it was only when it was gone he realized it had been there at all.

He would never say it, but his time out of Verona was possibly the happiest times he’d ever had.

He was twenty-eight when Lawrence got the phone call that his father was dead. He is twenty-eight still, but his hands still shake when he fires a gun. He is twenty-eight, and he sneers when someone on the national team fails to score a goal. He is twenty-eight, but anger towards the Montague family still overtakes him at times, clawing at his throat and heart, begging to be released. He is twenty-eight and he has still not learned how to deliver orders like Alvise. He is twenty-eight and despite it all, Lawrence Vernon is his father’s son. He carries a torch alongside his father’s name and even though he is not Alvise, he has never let him down and he has returned to Verona with a bag of clothes and the Vernon name. Wars have been fought with far less and Lawrence has been fighting every day of his life for his father.  He just never thought he’d have to fight Verona.There was a time for goodness, but now is the time for success.

Extras:

This app was submitted through Lawrence’s mock blog, so feel free to peruse it!

#accepted #accepted: laertes

[changingourdestiny]

Fictober Day 22: Drifting Through the Snow

Prompt number: 22. “We could have a chance.”

Fandom (AU if applicable): Destiny (Changing Our Destiny Fan-Series)

Rating: M (Destiny is rated PEGI 16)

Warnings/Tags: Alcohol (nothing serious)

Stuck in a blizzard in the shadow of Felwinter Peak during the Dark Age, Marcia stumbles across a bar where she takes shelter from the storm.

—

Base of Felwinter Peak. The Dark Age.

 The wind howled across the snow-covered landscape as specks of white made visibility almost unbearable. Many would try to stay out of such harsh conditions…except for one. A cloaked figure trudged through the blizzard, face protected by only  the hood of her cloak a bandanna and a pair of large goggles. Her brown cloaked flailed about in the wind as they tried to hold it close to their body. A voice rang out in her head, “Marcia, you won’t last much longer out here. We must find shelter soon.”

“Yeah, I know…” Marcia huffed out, trying not to lose her breath in the wind, “But I haven’t seen anywhere to-” She cut herself off as she made out a strange shape through the storm. It seemed to be a building. “Huh…that’ll work. I ain’t picky.” Marcia shrugged as she made her way closer towards the building. Upon getting closer, she could see the building was a bar of sorts. Not wanting to be stuck out in the snow any longer, Marcia quickly entered the bar and shut the door behind her, not wanting to let the snow in.

The bar seemed cosy, but humble. Wooden floors, except for the area around a fireplace which was stone, and cobblestone walls with timber beams holding up the roof. The barman was a man with short black hair, that was partially covered by a green headband around his forehead, a short beard, blue eyes and a bit of scarring on the sides of his face. He wore a green and black gi and what looked to be a piece of jade hanging around his neck with two snakes carved on it. He was currently leaning against the wall behind the counter while tossing a coin, glancing at Marcia as she entered the bar. There were a few people in the bar. Some were sat around wooden tables – a few being passed out – while two or three were sat at the counter on bar stools, sipping their drinks. Marcia noticed most of them were wearing armour and had Ghosts floating beside them. ‘Traveller-huggers…great.’ Marcia groaned in her head. ‘Traveller-huggers’ was the nickname Marcia gave to Risen who worshipped the Traveller and its Light. Though this nickname would become ‘Tower-huggers’ when the City Age began. “Judging by the armour, these guys are Warlords.” Nox spoke, remaining hidden, “Best to avoid them.” A few heads turned towards Marcia upon her entering, but quickly dismissed her before going back to their drinking. Marcia noticed a few hooks on the wall and hung her cloak on one of them along with her goggles. She kept her bandanna on but slid it down, so it was just hanging around her neck and kept her shoulder plates on too. She walked up to the bar and sat on one of the barstools. The barman stopped tossing his coin, putting it on the counter, as he strolled over to Marcia with a smile, “Not every day I see a new face in here. But either way, welcome.”

“This your place then?” Marcia asked. “Yep. Name’s Wu Ming.” He nodded, reaching a hand out in a hand shake. “Marcia Wyverk. But my friends call me Mars.” Marcia smiled, accepting the handshake. “Nice to meet ya, Mars. What can I get you?”

“I’ll have a rum please.”

“Comin’ right up.”

Wu Ming headed over towards a stack of shelves where several bottles were set up. Marcia fiddled with the light amplifier crystal hanging out of her ear as she waited. She would do this out of instinct if she felt the Taken power begin to surge inside her. It would cause the Light in her to stir which helped to balance it out. A Warlord, who was sitting on a barstool on Marcia’s left and was pretty drunk, glanced in her direction. He noticed Marcia’s mark and crystal and glared at her, “I know you.”

“Beg pardon?” Marcia glanced at him with a raised brow.

“I know who you are.”

“Sorry, pal. I don’t believe we met.”

“Don’t play dumb…you’re that monster the other Risen talk ‘bout.”

Some of the Warlords in the bar began to look at Marcia, the same drunken glare in their eyes. “Dunno what you’re talking about.” Marcia shrugged, “If you’re looking for a fight, I don’t wanna damage this fine establishment and I don’t wanna fight in a blizzard-”

*Ker-chick!*

Marcia flinched at the sound as she slowly turned to face the Warlord. He had a gun in hand and the Warlords behind her were reaching for theirs. Wu Ming had turned to watch this conflict, on guard in case it got out of hand. The Warlord glared down at Marcia, “You’re that monster who wields Darkness like it’s a toy. You don’t even deserve to be called a Risen like the rest of us.” Marcia glared back, a fierce look in her eyes, “You seem to know me. But if you really do, you’ll think about what you’re about to do for a second, see it’s a bad idea, and back off.”

“Marcia, this is a bad idea.” Nox advised from in Marcia’s head, “The door isn’t guarded. If we book it now, we could have a chance.” Marcia ignored Nox and stood up from her stool, “You have ten seconds to change your mind…one…two…”

The Warlords took a step towards her. Marcia sighed and removed the crystal from her ear along with her left glove, her glaring expression turning into a malicious smirk.

 “…Ţ̵̹͖̤̜̮̦̹̣̱͋ͤ̍̏̾̋̓̂ͣͩͮ̌ͩ̏͛̉̅ͧ͟ ̛̈ͭ̂ͨ̾͌̇͐ͭͥͫ̅ͥ͒̌̈̓͏̧̞̻̖̖̪̤̜̯͚̱̙͈͚̕Ęͤ́̌̽͊͆͏̧̖̮̝̫̘̯͓̟̲͉̙͚͇̺́ͅ ̶̊̇̍̓ͪͪͣ̒͏̯͖̭͕̞̤͎̟͍̖̺͖̬̝̭N̵͉̻̥͙͍̘̲͕̖̖̫̗̯͙̙̬̬̹̖̅̈̅ͫͦ̐ͩ͊̈́̓̓͜͠ ̷̙͍͉̖̝̭͓̙̗͉͍̱̝̥̣ͪ͂̇̇̓̅̋̒ͪ͑̎̋͐̂͒ͩ̀́̚͢͠!̛̿́ͨ͌̂ͥ͏̥͎̥̥͘”

  Marcia’s voice became distorted as the entire left side of her body was engulfed in dark greenish-teal and her markings and eye glowed bright white. Taken blight appeared on the floor as three Taken Wizards shot up through it into the bar.

“Ş̷̢̬̱̺̱̳̹̖̹̜͓̮̳͉̺͇͚̹̰̿͋̓ͯ͆ͫͤ̃ͫ̈́ͬ͒͋̎ͬ́̌̓͜H̢̖̻̯̠̳̜̖̣̣̱͙̮̯̿͛̊̎̄ͫ̈́ͭ̈́ͣͭ́͂̀͘͜ͅO͈̠̯̘͍̻̺̹̰̲̤ͣͨ̄̇͂̃ͧͫ̓ͪ̒̈̈ͥ̌̀͞͝ͅW̷͙͚̘̤͖̬͖͓̫̜̰̾ͬ̏ͭ̽̈ͯ̏̀ͤͨ̾̚͢ ͖͍̝̜͚̼̜̤́͗̓̋͋̈́͘͜Ǫ̶̷̢͗̀́̊̒̎̊͛̍̌̉̄̽ͪ̇ͯ͗͏͙̜̮̥̙̗̱̪̫̪͚ͅͅȔ̶̮̟͙̫̘̻̺̱͍͇̼͉͉͔͔͓ͧ̈͆̐͆͌R̸̶̩̯̟̦͚̙̱̖͓̪̯̟̰̭̪̹̾̿̓͂͆͒̿͢͟ͅ ̧̢̜͉̣͈̹̹͈͉̬̳̰̹̱̝͙̔̉͌ͣͭͬͮ͗ͤ̎ͩ̈́ͥ͢ͅF͎̟̮͖̗̬̹̪̗̥̽ͣ̌͊͒̋̄ͩ̒ͧ́͡Ŗ͍͚̳̬̤̮͈͈̜̰̭̻̖̣̘́̐̄̒ͣͭ̑ͧ͛ͥ̂ͣͯ̋̚͢͜ͅI̿ͣ͐͆ͭ̑͗ͣ͏̷̴̛̫̝͔͙E̐͊̆̎̔ͦ̈́ͥ̔̎ͧ͛̓ͬ̑̾̔͘͏̨̳͖̣̙͘ͅN̶̜͖̰͔̿́̉ͤ̈̋̂͒̒ͧ̃̍̿̍̿͞͝Ḑ̫̹͉̘̭͙̼̩̰̮͎͋̆̇̋̅͆̈́̀Ş̛̬̥̜̥̲̟̿̐̓͗̽͑ͣͫͨͩ̕̕ ̷̼̠̜̤̻͔̹̙̟̻͇̥̣̀ͭͩͯ̒͊̾ͣͨ͆̐̃̊̒͂ͭ̓ͭ̚͘͜ͅͅT̸̽͐̍͑͂̀͐͏̹̠̗͖H̶̷̷̳̜̻̰̥̞͈̟̹̏͂͑ͮ͢͟Ḝ̶̟̘͕̘̪̰̭̺̊͂̿̆͗̎̓̊̂̑̊̌͊̎̐̀ͭ̚͞͠͠ ̧̡̡̧̯̠̫̫̥͍̥͎̪̭̪͚̗̭̗̟̖̑̒̓̀̐̅͑̂̇ͅͅD̶̷̩̦̱̤̘̘͈̥̣̬̩ͩ̋ͨ̍͂͒͛̆̐͛̆ͥͩ̚͢͜ͅO̧͋̄̉̚͢҉͙͕̣̭͉̲̩̺̺̙͈͖ͅO̹̺̙̝͈̙̦͖̯̭̳͓͍͈̱̗̰͓ͮ́ͤ̕͜R̶͕̮̝͈̭͓̘͗ͫ̈͌ͮͮ͘ͅ!̨̪͖̟̮͇͉̻͈̦̞̫̓ͫ̄ͧͤ́ͫͣͮ͆̿͂͘͜” Marcia commanded. 

The Taken Wizards to chase the Warlords out of the bar. A man, who was previously passed out on a table, woke up and saw the Warlords run screaming out of the bar followed by the Taken. He stared at the wine bottle in his hand and muttered, “What the hell is in this stuff…?” before passing out again. Marcia sighed in exhaustion as she placed her glove back on her hand and her crystal back in her ear. She turned to Wu Ming, “Sorry about chasing away your customers. I was trying to avoid a fight.”

“Ha! You kiddin’?” Wu Ming laughed, “That was the best entertainment I’ve had since I opened this place.”

Marcia was surprised at first before smiling. This was the first time someone wasn’t terrified of her ability. The two talked over drinks – Wu Ming making them on the house – and discovered they were both Risen who were untrusting of the Traveller.

And that was the beginning of the countless times these two rogue Lightbearers would encounter each other.

#fictober19 #marcia wyverk #the drifter #destiny drifter #destiny #destiny ghost #ghost #warlords #destiny warlords #Changing our Destiny

[piratethornton]

Pirates of the Clawribbean

Chapter 1: Bunnyburrow

Fandom: Zootopia

[1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9][10]

Note: Also on fanfiction.net and AO3 if that’s easier for anyone.

The territory of Bunnyburrow was a fertile region almost completely covered with farmland with a small town and port to the east. It was known as a content and humble place, which was reflected in the attitude of its population and leaders. For many generations Bunnyburrow was looked after by the Hopps family, who were well respected and managed to maintain their land's prosperity. The current Governor of Bunnyburrow, Stuart Hopps, was a busy rabbit, with his duties to his land, the Royal Court and his 276 children. One of these kits was named Judith Laverne, though the only mammal who called her that was her mother, and only if she had done something worthy of scalding.

While her siblings were happy to accept what was expected of them, Judy was always looking for something extra. She climbed every tree she could find, read every book in the library, and whenever she learned about a new activity she insisted on trying it out (even if she didn't quite excel at it). But the thing that had her attention above all else was the sea.

Her bedroom window offered her a perfect view of the ocean. Each morning she would watch the sun rise over the horizon, causing the gentle waves to glisten. Ships would glide majestically over the waters in and out of port. On days where the weather took a turn for the worse, she gazed in awe as the sea churned and lurched, lit up by the lightning streaked across the sky. She dreamt of the moment she could finally be in the middle of it.

Her obsession with the sea was largely thanks to a retired Navy captain who resided in the town. Jack Savage lived by himself in handsome townhouse near the port. Though great with age, he walked with his head held high and his back straight, offering to help mammals he came across who were struggling with shopping and regularly giving advice to ship hands when a vessel came to dock. He was polite and friendly, but was private when it came to his past. Except, of course, with the kits.

Every Friday evening Judy would make her way to the local tavern, The Carrot and Anchor, and seek out the old hare, then sit at his feet among the other children who had come to listen to his retellings of his life at sea. He spoke of the time where he had snuck aboard the Navy vessel HMS Ironhorn and worked his way up through the ranks from stowaway to captain. He made battle with pirates more times than he could count, weathered storms that even he had trembled at, and once made a daring escape from the ship of Old Davy Bones himself. It was difficult to work out which stories were true and which were embellished, as he told each and every one with both dramatic flair and complete seriousness. No matter how much truth there was in these tales, Judy was always enraptured.

It was thanks to these stories that Judy knew exactly what she wanted to be from a very young age: a naval officer. Unfortunately, there was one small problem.

"There's never been a rabbit officer," her father told her gently when she made her parents aware of her dream.

"What about Captain Savage?" Judy asked.

"Well, he's a hare," answered her mother, "and a male."

"And even then he had to force his way into the Navy," her father added, "if you believe him."

"Oh. Then I guess I just have to be the first doe rabbit officer," said Judy, brightly.

Her parents shared a look.

"It's...just not the way things are done."

As Judy grew older, she began to understand her father's words. Some jobs were meant for large mammals, others for smaller. Some things were done by males, and some by females. Occasionally there were overlaps and allowances, but only under special circumstances. The navy was dominated by large males, with the occasional female elephant or tiger who were only allowed to join if they outperformed their fellow applicants. Small mammals eager to pursue a sea-faring life would instead enlist for ships used to transport goods and animals, and this is what Judy soon tailored her ambitions towards.

Judy sought out Captain Savage after one of his Friday sessions to get as much advice as she could to achieve her dream. He was surprised but pleased to hear of her wishes, and agreed to mentor. She had regular lessons at Captain Savage's house, and learned the difference between a sloop and a cutter, how to recognise the early warnings of an incoming storm, and the trading routes favoured by merchants. These sessions always had a silent sadness, as they both knew that it would be a miracle for her to be considered to join any ship - navy, merchant or otherwise. She was still a doe rabbit, after all.

Despite this, Jack also offered her sword fighting lessons, saying she may one day get lucky and have to fend herself from a vicious pirate attack. Judy was a quick learner, and mastered the weapon in a few years. In addition, he also taught her about Navy protocol and battle tactics, subjects she devoured eagerly, and he once lamented about the injustice of her position.

"It is sad that society overlooks females and the leporidae. I hoped I had gave them cause to give a second thought, at least about the latter. Alas I am still an anomaly, one that the government would like to forget about."

As well as her sessions with Captain Savage, Judy spent time with her friend Fru Fru. The two met when Judy saved the shrew from some bullies and were close ever since. She was the daughter of the notorious Mr Big, a wealthy merchant who was suspected of underhanded dealings with pirates and smugglers. No one dared confront him of this, as he had a habit of making mammals he didn't like disappear, and his polar bear entourage was enough for several to give him a wide berth. Because of her friendship with his daughter, Judy had nothing to fear from him and he considered her practically family.

Whenever she didn't have lessons or chores, Fru Fru invited her to go shopping in the town, even if they never bought anything. It was one of the few occasions where Judy felt like a proper lady, strolling lightly through the streets, laughing merrily at some thought only the fairer sex understood. Of course, her conversations with Fru Fru would quickly turn to adventures on the high seas. While Judy spoke of her ambitions, the shrew was far more interested in the romance. She had read several books of dashing captains, pirate queens, wide-eyed youths who would search the ocean for their lost love. Judy kept saying she was above that, but couldn't help but feel a little thrill when she thought of two lovers giving in to their passions surrounded by the sea. It was certainly more exciting than her own love life.

When she was old enough to marry she caught the attention of James Buckington, a dark grey rabbit only a year older than her. His father was an important member of the Royal Court, and James was to take his place when he was ready. Every summer he would journey from his home in Zootopia to holiday in Bunnyburrow, and would constantly seek out Judy. It was obvious he was smitten with her, however he could never manage to rack up the courage to make any romantic advances. Her parents kept saying that she would have to make the first move if anything was to come of their relationship, however she could not bring herself to do it. He was a very nice rabbit, however that seemed to be all he was. After filling her head with stories of the ocean and training her hands to master a sword, the thought of marrying him was rather...stale.

"I know he seems like a...safe option," Fru Fru said as she and Judy discussed the matter on one of their walks through town, "but he does have a good position. Not to mention how handsome he is."

"He'd be perfect husband," replied Judy, exasperated. "He's so sweet, and honourable, and he's probably the only male who lets me talk about how I love the sea. But if we marry, I would have to be a noblemammal's wife, expected to sit at home, be waited on hand and foot, and help with his career. You know me. I'd die of boredom."

"Yes, I do know you," sighed Fru Fru in agreement. "At least you would see Zootopia."

"It would be amazing to live there. James has told so many wonderful things about it, but I don't know if it would be worth marriage. Besides, I don't feel anything for him. Not romantically, anyway."

"What happens if you don't get married?"

"If fate has decreed that I shall never set foot aboard a vessel, then I'll probably stay at home," answered Judy, shrugging good naturedly. "Any Hopps children that don't get married continue to help around the manor or the family farm. Maybe I'll be a governess to my younger relatives and pass on what I've learned. Hopefully they'll have more luck achieving their dreams, whatever they may be."

"Unfortunately I'm Daddy's only child, so I have to get married to continue the family line," Fru Fru huffed. "Of course, it would be easier if he didn't keep scaring away suitors. I don't think he does it on purpose, but - "

A loud crash stopped them in their tracks. They looked up and saw a very portly cheetah staring down in horror at the fruit stand he had stepped on, the squirrels who had owned it shaking their tiny fists in fury.

"I am so sorry!" He stepped back and raised his hands in a defensive position, one of them holding a large piece of parchment. "I didn't see you there! I was looking at my map! I'm sorry! I'll pay you back!"

"Are you sure of that, tubby?" shouted one of the squirrels. "You just destroyed our livelihood!"

"Everyone calm down," said Judy, who had rushed over. "I'm sure it was just an accident, and something we can fix."

"This idiot wasn't looking where he was going, and now both our stand and produce for the day are completed ruined! He should be arrested!"

"That's enough!" Judy replied, sternly. "This is a peaceful town, and all visitors have a right to a warm welcome. It is a shame what happened to your stand, but I will make sure you are compensated."

"I have money!" The cheetah grabbed his coin purse, desperate to rectify his mistake. His face fell when he examined its contents. "Err...some money."

"Just pay what you can and I'll make up the rest," piped up Fru Fru, reaching for her own purse.

"Oh, Fru. You don't have to - " began Judy.

"I want to. Every visitor has a right to a warm welcome after all," explained Fru Fru, smiling at Judy. "Besides, I would have only spent it on more dresses."

Money was given out and the two squirrels walked away, still grumbling. Once they were gone, the cheetah could not stop thanking the rabbit and shrew that had saved him.

"We were happy to help," Judy assured him. "I'm Judy and this is Fru Fru. Where are you trying to get to?"

"The Naval base," the cheetah explained. "I've been transferred here from Zootopia. The name's Benjamin Clawhauser." He smiled proudly.

"You're part of the Navy?" asked Judy, excitedly.

"Kinda. I'm don't do much sailing. I just look after the base and the paperwork. Do you happen to know where - ?"

"The base is? Of course! Follow me!" Judy bounced away towards the port.

On the way Judy bombarded Clawhauser with questions about the Navy, his role, his experiences aboard a vessel, and the cheetah answered them all, though he didn't consider any of his knowledge particularly interesting. In turn the two ladies introduced him to Bunnyburrow, pointing out the best places to shop and dine. Once they arrived at the base, a small but grand building near the docks, they helped him get settled and Judy promised that she would visit soon.

She kept her word. The next day she turned up at the base, eager to learn anything she didn't already know about the Navy. This became a daily occurrence, and Clawhauser humoured her the best he could, but eventually there was nothing new he could tell her, so instead she offered to help him in his duties. He tried to refuse, but she was insistent. He quickly learned that as soon as the rabbit had her heart set on something, there was very little that could stop her. They became very good friends, and Clawhauser promised that he would do what he could to get her on a vessel.

Judy was now a very busy rabbit, between her chores, working with Clawhauser and her continuing tutorials with Captain Savage. She relished in it, knowing that even if what she did was of no great importance, her mind and body kept growing stronger, and one day all her hard work may pay off. Then in the following summer, something else came to occupy her.

James Buckington returned, and with him came a representative of King Lionheart himself, Lady Bellweather. The ewe was the king's personal secretary, and was in charge of writing his decrees, giving out orders on his behalf and performing errands that could not be trusted with mere servants. She had written to Governor Hopps beforehand to inform him of her visit and that there was a matter of great importance to discuss. She was welcomed graciously into the manor and was introduced to several of the Hopps children before being led into the main study by Stuart Hopps, his wife and a few of their sons.

Judy sat in the drawing room, which was situated a few doors away from the study, and poured tea for James Buckington. Despite attempting to make polite conversation, she couldn't help but feel concerned; James looked decidedly guilty about something, and she recalled that Bellweather had seemed worried when she entered the Hopps home. Her mind racing about what could be going on, she kept missing what James was saying to her.

"Judy?"

"Hmm?" She looked up at James.

"I said 'how are you keeping?'" he repeated, patiently.

"Oh! I'm doing very well," she replied. "Actually, I've started helping out at the Naval base. There's a cheetah, Mister Clawhauser, who lets me assist with his duties. It's only paperwork, of course, but now I have an even better chance of getting on a ship!"

He chuckled. "Wow. Working at the base, lessons with Savage... It's a wonder you have time to eat."

"I wouldn't do it if I knew I couldn't handle it."

He raised an eyebrow.

She rolled her eyes. "Mother makes sure I'm fed."

"WHAT?!"

The two rabbits jumped at the shout. It had come from the study.

"That sounded like father." Judy got up and started to walk out the room.

"Judy, wait!" James stood up also. He had a pained expression on his face. "It may be better until after they've finished."

"What's going on, James?"

He was looking guilty again. "I shouldn't be the one to tell you."

"Tell me what?" Judy's ears swivelled as more shouting was heard from the study.

He made out to take her hand but stopped himself. "Just trust me, Judy. Please."

Though it caused her a great deal of frustration, she duly waited until the meeting was over. Lady Bellweather was very sombre as she left with James Buckington (she was staying at his summer home) and soon the reason for her visit was spread throughout the entire household.

The land that made up the Hopps personal farm apparently no longer belonged to the Hopps family. For generations it had been tended to by the Hopps and its produce sold to pay for the upkeep of the manor, however it had recently come to light that the documents pertaining to it were out of date. In the eyes of the Royal Court, the land had no owner and so was property of the King, along with the profit that had been made from all the previous harvests. In the space of one meeting, the Hopps family had almost no land and were severely in debt. Though Stuart and Bonnie Hopps had argued ferociously with Lady Bellweather about this injustice, law was law and there was no way about it. The Court offered only one solution: if they could pay £100,000 by the end of the year, their debt would be forgotten and their land given back. If not, they would face financial ruin.

"£100,000!" screamed Lucy, one of the Hopps daughters. "Do they think we have that kind of money lying around?"

"It's pocket cash to those rich toffs of the Court," replied Daniel, her brother. "You'd think they'd have enough already."

"Once you're rich it's never enough," said John, one of the eldest. "In all honesty we should be glad they're not asking for more."

"And how are we supposed to raise anything if we're not allowed to use the farm?" asked Thomas, angrily.

The chatter lasted well into the night, and most lost sleep over worrying. There didn't seem to be any answer to their problem, and for every rabbit in the manor, it was a terrifying thought.

Come morning no one could speak of nothing else. The house was fuller than usual since the family members who tended the farm stayed in and not many felt like socialising in town. Stuart and Bonnie confined themselves to the study, talking just quietly enough so the inevitable eavesdroppers could not hear. Then, about an hour after lunch, they called Judy in.

They were seated in two chairs near the unlit fireplace, looking incredibly nervous. After Judy sat down in the empty chair facing them, they both took deep breaths.

"So, um," her father started awkwardly, "how's everything going?"

"Uh, good," answered Judy, slightly confused. "I've been thinking about maybe asking Mister Clawhauser to start paying me for my work. It won't be much, but maybe it'll help with...er...you know."

"Oh, that's very thoughtful of you, Judy." Her mother smiled warmly.

"Actually, it's about the...you know...that we wanted to talk about." Stuart managed a weak smile of his own.

"Is there something I can do?"

Her parents looked at each other, nervous again.

Bonnie decided to take the plunge. "Well, you know that nice James Buckington?"

Judy raised an eyebrow. "Yes, he's a good friend of mine. Why?"

"He's very taken with you."

"Can't seem to leave your side when he's in town," Stuart added.

"And such a gentlemammal."

"With a good position."

"Very eligible."

"Financially secure."

"Wait," said Judy, stopping them. She realised where this was going. "Are you suggesting that I -"

"We don't want to force you into this," interrupted Stuart quickly. "It's just..."

"As his wife you would have access to his fortune," Bonnie continued, "and he has more than enough to help with our...predicament."

"And if we don't do something...we'll lose everything."

"This way the family will be safe, and you'll have a wonderful husband. And we'll still see each other in the summer."

"You always said how much you wanted t-to see Zootopia." Tears were forming in Stuart's eyes.

Judy looked from one parent to the other, gaping at them. "But - I -"

"You do like him, right?" asked Bonnie.

"Y-yes," stammered Judy, "but not - not like that."

"You want to marry for love," stated Bonnie, smiling. She put a hand on her husband's arm. "We understand. We truly do. It's just..."

"Sometimes things don't go our way," Stuart finished.

Judy stared at her hands. There was no way out. If she refused, the family was doomed. She couldn't let that happen.

"OK."

Her mother and father let out sighs of relief, though they didn't seem any happier.

"I'll talk to James Buckington. See if I can get a proposal out of him. Though with him, easier said than done." Stuart gave a half-hearted chuckle.

"May I be excused?" Judy asked in a small voice.

"Of course, sweetie." Bonnie got up and enveloped her daughter in a loving hug. It was a few seconds before she released her, and Judy silently left the room.

She felt numb. Ignoring her siblings who immediately started pelting her with questions, she made her way to her room and collapsed on the bed. Fortunately the sisters she shared with decided she needed some space. It was a while before she managed to start crying, but when she did, it all came out. The frustration, the anger, the hopelessness. She kept asking herself what could be done, but there was nothing. Eventually she calmed down, thinking herself silly. There were plenty of mammals who were forced into arranged marriages, often between those who had never met before. At least she knew James  and was friends with him. Not many had that luxury. Besides, being married to him didn't mean she couldn't make something of herself. She would make the best of her situation, as she had always done.

She sat up and looked out the window. The sky was darkening, and she could hear her family making their way to dinner. She left the room quietly, not wanting to draw attention to herself. She thought about going to the dining room, but despite telling herself she felt better, her spirits were low. Her feet carried her to the hall, out the front door and towards town. She didn't pay attention to where she was going or to the other mammals enjoying an evening stroll; she kept her gaze on the sea, which was reflecting the last rays of the sun. Just as the first stars came out, Judy found herself at The Carrot and Anchor. She entered as she had done so many times before, and soon spotted the old hare with his usual entourage.

"I had never felt colder. It was as if my very life was draining out of me, threatening to leave me as an empty husk. It only got worse as Davy Bones stepped towards me. The pirate looked me up and down, still smoking from his pipe, and said 'I thought it was customary to throw the little ones back into the sea.' His crew laughed, but I simply stared up at him. I breathed deeply, and said back 'I am the hare who braved the Bearmuda Triangle and lived. I am the one who severed Blackmane's head from his body. I do not know yet whether you are the most fearsome adversary I will meet, but don't doubt for a moment that I am not the weakest soul you'll ever come across.' He was silent for a moment, and then he laughed. Of course he laughed, but still I felt part of my inner strength returning." Jack Savage paused and leaned back in his chair, surveying his captive audience, then glanced up and saw Judy. He frowned when he saw her face. "I think that is a good place as any to stop. I'll tell you the rest next week. Off you go." The children groaned impatiently, but obediently trudged out of the Tavern back to their homes.

Jack made his way to Judy. Age had caught up with such that he now had to use a cane. "Miss Hopps, whatever is the matter?"

They sat down at a small table in the corner and Judy told him everything. The land dispute, the debt, the marriage. During this she started crying again. Jack only listened, his frown firmly in place.

When she had finished, he stared down thoughtfully at the table, his fingers laced together under his chin. After a minute he stood up. "Follow me."

He led her out of the tavern and to his house. He took a small wooden box out of a drawer in his study and then went out into the garden where they had their sword training lessons. He placed the box on the garden table and opened it, revealing a lapin sized pistol and some bullets, neatly arranged, all lined with faded red velvet. The initials 'J.S.' were etched into the pistol's handle. Judy gazed at it in wonder.

"This served me well on many occasions," said Jack, taking the pistol and stroking it fondly. "I prefer the sword, but sometimes you need a little firepower. It's also useful if your enemy is some distance away." He loaded some bullets and faced the far wall. It was made of solid stone, and there were several cracks and dents covering it. Jack aimed the weapon at the wall, breathed deeply and fired.

There was a loud BANG! and Judy covered her ears and closed her eyes instinctively. When she opened them again she saw that a new dent had appeared in the wall, formed by the bullet wedged firmly in it. Satisfied with his work, Jack pressed the gun into Judy's hands.

He then proceeded to teach her how to hold the pistol, aim it, when to shoot, how to breathe, how to reload and anything else he deemed necessary. Once she knew the basics, he took some chalk and drew targets on the stone wall for her to shoot at. Judy had been so enthralled at learning a new skill that it wasn't until a full hour later that she asked Jack why he had decided now to show her how to use a gun.

"Whenever I feel upset about something, I find practising my shooting calms me down," he explained. "It requires focus, and let's out some aggression. Of course, different things work for different mammals, but I wanted to give you some form of power. Something you had control over."

Judy gave a small smile. "I do feel better."

"I'm sorry for what's happened to you and your family," Jack said, sitting down. "If there was anything I could do, I would, but I have neither the money or influence nowadays."

"You've done so much for me already." Judy sat in the chair next to him. "I wouldn't be who I am today if it weren't for you. You've always made me feel so powerful."

Jack smiled at her proudly. "It has been an honour being your tutor, Judy. Whatever you decide to do in life, I know you're going to be amazing, and I couldn't be prouder."

The next day Judy made her way to the Naval base, though without the usual skip in her step. Her time with Captain Savage had kept her from getting too depressed, but she knew it would be a long time before she felt cheerful again. She was trying to figure out the best way to tell Clawhauser the news when she heard someone calling her name. She turned and saw James Buckington running down the road towards her.

"James?" she asked, concerned.

"Judy." He stopped when he reached her and suddenly looked nervous. "I - er - I spoke to your father this morning and - um - we - er  - well, I'm sorry about the business with your farm."

"You knew along," Judy stated, failing to keep a small amount of venom from her voice.

"My father and I were completely against it!" he said quickly. "We tried to convince the Court to let your family keep the land, but we were outvoted."

Judy sighed sadly. "I'm sorry. I know you wouldn't have wanted this to happen."

He nodded in response. "Um - Judy, you're father and I were talking and - er - you must know by now how I feel, and - um -" He wrung his hands together and then straightened up. He looked around at the busy mammals carrying out their daily tasks at the port. "This isn't the ideal location for this, but I must do it know before I lose courage."

Judy closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She knew what was coming.

James cleared his throat. "Lady Judy Hopps, I would be honoured if you consented to be my wife. I would tend to your every need, and of course help out with your family's financial problems. I would make sure you want for nothing, and if ever I am required to board a vessel, I shall insist you accompany me." He smiled shyly at her.

She readied herself. "James - "

"You don't have to give your answer now," he interrupted. "All I ask for you now is to think about it. I will be travelling to Deerbrooke tomorrow, and will return in a few weeks. Maybe you'll have an answer then." He bowed, kissed her paw and left as fast as he could, his ears flaming red.

She stared at the road he had disappeared down, and couldn't help but feel slightly amused at the fact that that was the only time he had talked more than her. She sighed again. He would be good to her. She didn't love him, but she was fond of him. And he did say that he would get her on board a ship. She continued walking to the Naval base.

When she arrived Clawhauser was sitting at his desk, gazing intently at an old piece of parchment held up to his muzzle. He looked up when he saw Judy enter, and quickly rolled up the parchment and stuffed it into a back rectangular box.

"Lady Judy!" he greeted, locking the box and putting the key in his pocket. Noticing Judy's puzzled expression, he chuckled nervously. "Top secret. I'm afraid I can't tell you." Despite what he said, the way he smiled and bounced in his seat suggested he would like nothing better than to share what he knew.

Though she was curious, and could easily get the information out of him if she wanted, she pushed it out of her mind. She had other things to talk about.

"Hey, what's wrong," Clawhauser asked, seeing her sudden frown.

Judy proceeded to tell him everything. Fortunately she didn't cry this time; instead it was Clawhauser that got teary eyed. "That is so unfair. Is there anything I can do?"

"I doubt it," replied Judy. "I'm OK, really. Things are going to be very different now, but it's for the best."

The cheetah looked down at his desk sadly, then his ears pricked up as an idea struck him. "Thing is...I need to go to Zootopia in a few days to deliver this." He patted the black box. "I'll be travelling by ship, and maybe I could ask them to let you go with me. Say you're my assistant or something. We should be back before James."

Judy stared at him, her mouth agape. "You'd get me on a ship...to Zootopia?"

"I can try," he replied. "Of course, when you're...married...you'll be living there and travelling by ship anyway, but I thought that maybe you could have some fun before you're...while you're single."

Judy ran around the desk and hugged Clawhauser as far as her arms could reach around his girth. He instantly returned the embrace.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Anytime." He pulled back and grabbed some from papers from the desk. "Right, back to work."

By the end of the next day, it was organised. Judy would accompany Mister Clawhauser on his trip to Zootopia aboard the HMS Cloverleaf, a merchant ship that occasionally ferried passengers if the price was right. Normally a Navy ship would escort mammals who worked for them, however it seemed that whatever Clawhauser had in his charge was so secret that he would be going undercover as a simple passenger who wanted to visit the capital.

Judy's parents were anxious about Judy travelling across the sea with only Clawhauser to watch over her. Unlike his daughter, Governor Hopps was not fond of the ocean and always took the longer by-land path when visiting other regions. He and Bonnie didn't offer much argument against the notion however, as they still felt horrible for pressuring Judy into marriage. Instead they gave her long lectures about being careful, doing exactly what Clawhauser and the crew told her, and not to feel ashamed if she wanted to cut the journey short and return home. Judy took this all in with a lot of eye rolling but she didn't complain. Her high spirits had returned as she joyfully packed what she thought she needed into two suitcases and reread her books about what to expect when sailing. She simply couldn't wait.

Soon enough the day arrived. The skies were clear, the wind was strong and Judy smiled brightly at the handsome three-mastered ship before her. It sat serenely in the water, just waiting to be launched. Running across the decks and riggings were several lemmings, which the entire crew was comprised of. A couple had already taken Judy's belongings onboard.

She turned back to the family members that had come to see her off. Fru Fru was also there, talking excitedly about Judy's upcoming journey and insisting that she bring back a souvenir. Once she had finished saying goodbye to the shrew, it was her family's turn.

"Remember what we told you, Judy," said her mother, fussing over Judy's dress. "Don't do anything reckless."

"The ocean is dangerous enough already without you making it worse for yourself," added her father. "It's not too late to change your mind, you know."

"I'm not changing my mind, father," replied Judy, firmly.

"And be careful in Zootopia, too," he continued. "It's easy to get lost, and there are a lot of larger animals. Wolves and bears and foxes...  Be sure to watch out for foxes."

"Father, Clawhauser is a large predator, as are most of Mr Big's servants. I'll be fine."

Governor Hopps did not look convinced. He was about to say something when Clawhauser's voice was heard from the ship.

"Lady Judy! We're almost ready!"

"OK! I'm coming!" Judy held her parents in a tight hug. "I love you. See you soon." She ran down the port towards the boarding plank, waving behind her.

Just as she reached the bottom of the plank she noticed another mammal hobbling as fast as he could towards her. The old hare's cane clacked loudly against the ground, slowing only to dodge a  small sand-coloured fox walking the other way, but the retired Captain's eyes never left Judy. He took a moment to catch his breath when he reached her, then stood up straight and smiled proudly.

"Forgive my lateness," he said. "I sometimes forget my age."

"I'm glad you came, Captain," replied Judy. "I wouldn't appreciate this moment as much if it weren't for you."

"You're going to love it, trust me." From beneath his jacket he took out a familiar wooden box. He held it out to Judy. "In case of pirates," he explained with a wink.

"Oh, I couldn't-"

"I don't want this to go to anyone else," he said firmly. "You're the closest thing I have to family, and I am passing it to you. Use it well. It's freshly loaded."

Hesitantly, she took the box in the paws, and smiled in thanks.

He bowed to her. "Lady Judy."

She saluted. "Captain Savage."

"We're about to cast off!"

Judy turned towards the voice from the ship and then back to Jack. He gestured for her to hurry up the plank and stepped back. She gave a final nod and rushed aboard the ship just before the crew took away the plank, and then found a good place to wave goodbye to the mammals she was leaving behind. The anchor was lifted, the sails unfurled and soon the HMS Cloverleaf slid smoothly out of port towards the open waters. The town gradually got smaller and smaller, disappearing over the horizon until it had gone completely.

Over the next few days Judy woke to the smell of salty air and the sound of waves lapping against the ship. She had a small but comfortable cabin all to herself, though she hardly spent any time in it. She was almost always on deck, looking out to the sea, watching the gulls fly overhead, and trying to remember the names of the cloud formations she could see. It had taken her a while to get her sea-legs, but once she found them she was eager to help out with the running of the ship. However it was soon made apparent that she wasn't wanted. The lemming crew had a specific way of handling their ship and they did not appreciate variations to their schedule. They worked like clockwork, highly organised and efficient, not bothering to call out orders to each other as they each knew their place at every second of the day. It unnerved Judy and Clawhauser to no end, and they began to memorise the lemmings' routine so they could avoid them.

Though she was over the moon about travelling across the sea, the crew's standoffishness and the fact she wasn't allowed to do anything was driving the young rabbit a little crazy. Clawhauser often found her leaning over the edge of the ship, her foot thumping furiously.

"Hi," he greeted at one of these times, standing next to her. "Lovely weather."

"Yes," agreed Judy, no enthusiasm in her voice.

He gave her a sympathetic look. "I know you're frustrated, but you don't have to work on a ship to enjoy it. And there's Zootopia to look forward to! I'll show you all the sights. The museums, the markets, the theatres... There won't be a dull moment."

Judy gave a small smile. "Thanks."

Clawhauser frowned. "Is there something else?"

"It's just...as soon as this is over...it's over."

"I wouldn't say that. Sure, you'll be getting married, but you'll still be you. You're not gonna suddenly turn into some housewife or 'genteel lady'. Anyone's who's met you knows you're more than that."

Judy's smile managed to grow to a normal size. She was about to say something when a squeaky yell was heard from the crow's nest.

"Pirates! Off the Starboard!"

#Zootopia #zootropolis #pirates #pirates of the caribbean #fanfic #PotC #chapter #pirates au