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thornstocutyouwith · 3 years

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Name: Lucian Zoltán Xurxo Edu Faust

Meaning of Name: Lucian: Light, Zoltán: Life, Xurxo: Farmer, Edu: Wealthy Guard, Faust: Fortunate One

Nickname(s): Luci, Freak, Cian,

Age: Unknown

Birthday: September 14, 1494/1990

Species/Nationality: Hybrid between a Gold Dragon and an Elf, A Fantasy Realm called Aseara.

Accent: Yes

Language spoken: Elvish, Common, English,

Powers:

Dragon Physiology

Elf Physiology

Metal Dust Manipulation

Graphic Vision

Chemical Breath

Gamma Radiation Manipulation

Fire Breath

Ninjutsu

Dark Elemental Attacks

Weaknesses/Illness/Allergies: No

Pet: Spider Monkey named Sparrow

Occupation: Strip Club Owner/Pirate Captain

Faceclaim: Xavier Samuel

Description: His hair is short and black, with natural gold and blue flecks of hair/feather sticking out here and there. His iris are a blue purple color, and the rims are naturally blackened with the edges of the whites of his eyes tinted in a golden color that fades the when going in closer to his iris’. His fingernails are black. He has scars on his left shoulder , they are thick and puff out from his skin, and are an natural color from the rest of his skin. He is tan with scaled elbows and knee’s, the scales are black. His ears are pointed, with black tips that fade into blue farther down. He has fangs, both on the bottom and the top of his mouth.

Outfit/Accessories/Jewelry: Swords,

Height: 5′9″

Weight: 134

Body Build: Slender/Athletic

Backstory/Background:

Past

Lucian was born a long time ago, on a night of a full moon. In the middle of winter, to an elven mother. She had been banished from the elven kingdom just after becoming pregnant with Lucian. Being viewed as a curse who would bring an abomination into their world. After her exile she had been hunted. Dragons and demons alike wanting her dead, or to capture her in order to obtain the child she was carrying.

After one such attack seventeen months after becoming pregnant, the elven woman finally went into labor. Though prematurely for her kind, as well as for the dragons, even more so. Being stalked into a cave, she collapsed and started to feel immense pain, her body lighting up in pain. Before she could contain herself, she was found. She was captured and her head chopped off. Still pregnant with Lucian at the time, her body was tossed into a nearby river.

The body floated for several days then, before washing up on a beach miles and miles away from the site of the elven woman’s execution. Several days after this, a pair of scavengers were walking along the beach, searching for items to sell at the local market. Spotting the body they run up to it, hoping there was something of value in it. Upon finding nothing, one of the scavengers kicks the body in the stomach, hitting something solid.

Curious, they cut the body open, and fine an egg, not just any typical egg, but a golden colored egg. Taking the egg to the market, the pair easily sell this rare egg for riches that should of lasted them for months, possibly even years to come. Though they were probably going to end up spending it all on stupid things. The egg sat at the market for some time. For the most part, the shop owner didn’t even want to sell the egg.

Years passed, and the egg sat waiting, but for the longest time, no one came for it. And it from shop owner to shop owner, each one finding it hard to part with the strange egg, it was passed. Often times falling into the wrong hands, but it was never used for anything but decoration.

Present

Lucian currently owns one of the most popular strip clubs around. It has quickly become a mythical being hotspot for more than just it’s strippers. Lucian’s fame stretches from the mythical all the way into the human world. There are many stories about his origins floating around. But no one knows exactly where it was he came from, or how he got where he is now. Many of the beings who know of him have an innate fear of getting on his bad side. But Lucian has never given anyone a reason to think of him as an evil presence. Lucian cannot remember much as his memory erases every thirty years, due to a curse that was placed on him by another creature hundreds of years before now.

Each time his memory is erased, he starts over as if his previous life hadn’t happened. It has been ten years since the last time his memory erased itself. Lucian is unaware of the curse because of it’s nature. Those who have claimed to know him after his memory is erased often find this annoying and often don’t want to be his friend anymore because they think that he just is being an asshole. Lucian over all isn’t effected by it and continues to find success in his life, going down different paths every thirty years.

At some point he comes to fight a creature that could teleport. Soon they were both transported to the natural world, where seemingly no one has power or features the same as beings from Aseara. There he came across a young woman during the fight which had almost been killed by the teleporting creature. Lucian however protected her from the monsters attack but lost his chance to return home, back to Aseara in the process. Stranded now the Woman, who had been at first frightened of his appearance, since he had been in his dragon form, initially tried to flee. When he reverted back to his more humanoid form she had however changed her mind and decided to help him.

It took some time before they became comfortable with one another. The woman most of all. She had seemed often far too gentle. Lucian was not used to many like her. Along with being in a strange world he had certainly felt out of place. However the two grow closer, sometimes even being attracted to one another. Lucian had come to learn that the woman was the personification of what is known at the Astrological Sign of Cancer. Also learning that not all these Human’s are the same as they looked at times, in the process. That even in a world so seemingly devoid of differences there were the subtle ones.

At some point Lucian and the young woman part ways and eventually Lucian moves on to find a way back home to Aseara once more. Hearing about another being who had been lost from their world named Jax, who was working on a portal to cross dimensions.

Future

Lucian finds Jax and travels with the other trying to return home back to Aseara.

Sails a ship called Eternity.

Finds out he’s a Dragon Prince

(Work In Progress)

Personality:

Absent-minded, Adrenaline Junkie, Audacious, Bad Liar, Clumsy, Gullible, Idealist, Idiotic, Ignorant, Naive, Reckless, Timid, Ungracious, Unlucky, Unsophisticated, Courteous, Multi-leveled, Incorruptible, Punctual, Gracious, Adaptable, Upright, Humble, Neutral, Solitary, Glamorous, Noncommittal, Irreligious, Cute, Determined, Intense, Abrasive, Escapist, Argumentative, Careless, Nihilistic, Insulting, Odd, Demanding,

Quirks/Savvies/Other: Plays the drums, Startles easily, Prone to stumbling, Smells things, Accidentally breaks things often, Nibbles on peoples necks and ears, Flicks at people, Easily distracted by baubles or treasures,

Likes: Food, Music, Magic, Cooking, Crafting, Leaves, Clean (Warm) Clothes, Mud, Rain, Riverbeds, Cinnamon, Grapes, Peaches, Banana’s, Water, Wine, The Moon, Tea, Chocolate with Rainbow Sprinkles, Chocolate, Summer, Nighttime, Carving pumpkins,

Dislikes: Puns, Vegetables, Taller people, Philosophy, Being inside, Gossip, Monsters, Scary Stories, Grapes, Bats,

Fears: None

Personality Tests:

Other: Virgo

Parent(s):

-> Father: Unknown(Dragon)

-> Mother: Unknown(Elf)

Sibling(s): None

Starters

Chat’s

Para’s

Face

Stuff

Information

Asks

All

Alternate Universes

Lost Twin of Enzo (From Plush, Book/Movie (Fissarsi)) AU

Academy AU

Neko AU

Collar Colors: Grey, Black

Collar Charms: Wizard hat, sword, microphone,

Bell Color: Gold

Vampire AU

Doll AU

Greek God AU (Chrysus)

Lion King AU

Power Rangers AU (Green/White Ranger)

Alien AU

Zodiac AU

Harry Potter AU

Divergent AU

Pokemon AU

Hunger Games AU

Planet AU

Boogeyman AU

Phantom Family AU

AUs

#LucianBio #Bios #PhantomFamily

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callme--starchild · 4 years

Text

Trouble Sleeping

Penumbra had never had trouble sleeping. Even with Della's snoring echoing in the room, she had always managed to fall asleep when they lived on the Moon; but now that he had a room in her uncle's domains, it was impossible.

She didn't know if it was because of the transition from the Moon to Earth, the weight that gravity installed on her, and she could easily rule out the snoring that somehow was louder because she had gotten used to them, but she just couldn't .

She tried any position that made her feel more comfortable and even considered kicking the woman out of bed—perhaps the fact that she was so attached to her was the problem; but an awake Della Duck was more problematic than a sleeping Della Duck.

Besides that she could barely move her limbs.

Maybe she could walk the halls. Both Della and Donald had already guided her enough through the mansion that was already unlikely to be lost in them.

Again.

And maybe it allowed her to reduce the amount of energy in her body. She was so used to always being alert and going through Tranquility until the dream dominated her that she saw that as a more feasible hypothesis.

With more effort than was required, she took Della's hands and carefully removed them from her hips, attentive to the duck’s grunts until she instantly released her and turned, turning her back and snoring again.

She put a hand on her chest to sigh with relief and withdrew strands of hair that had strained to her face, holding her breath to get out of bed.

In that she was not worried about waking her roommate. She knew she had a heavy enough dream not to wake up to the movement in bed until she was forced to it.

And that she gave a little jump in the bed when she managed to get up didn't seem to wake her up either, so the former lieutenant and captain didn't seem to have anything to worry about either.

She slowly left the room and closed the door again. The lights were completely off, the Moon being the only one that illuminated the halls.

But the truth is that she still didn't get used to the absence of sound. Though it was her gun firing, Della roaming the room rummaging through her things while still chattering, the Moonlanders walking the halls of her home planet, or even her friends' family playing or talking to each other, Penumbra couldn't remember the last time she was surrounded by so much silence.

It was awkward, in a sense. And she found himself involuntarily humming Della's lullaby until she fell silent, feeling the heat rise up her cheeks. Unfortunately, the presence of the Duck family in her life had had more impact on her than she thought, but she would deny that Della's was the one who had the greatest influence as she walked the halls, observing the closed doors of the rooms.

She had not yet memorized in which rooms Donald and the other family members slept, and that each closed door was the same as the other did not help her at all. She really wanted to see if she had someone to talk to so she could sleep.

After all, Della's children and the little duck that always accompanied them seemed really interested in knowing her better as well as her uncle, Della was the one who knew her most and the interactions she had with Donald have been really scarce that currently the only thing he knew about her was that she was friends with his sister.

These thoughts, however, were interrupted when she approached the main staircase, from which she could see a light burning in one of the adjoining rooms and could hear the sound of webbed feet, at which her military instinct appeared. Holding on to the railing, she tiptoed in every rung—fortunately being well secured so that they do not squeak.

That the movement remained at the same level indicated to the alien that she was being silent enough, which really surprised her when her movements were always noisy.

But if someone was really trying to get into the family's territory, they were making a serious mistake, especially if they thought they could go unpunished. Because while she didn't have her ray gun, she still had her fists, and her vast training had made her as powerful as a weapon.

“Stop there!” Ignoring the noise she might cause, she kicked the door. On the other side, Donald started, releasing the fragile ivory cup he held between his wings.

But despite the efforts of the duck, it was Penumbra who managed to catch the object before it touched the ground.

“Hey! What is the big idea?!” and though she showed no signs of understanding him because, in addition, he had murmured, Penumbra acknowledged that he was angry at the abrupt way in which he snatched his cup while recovering his breath “do you want to wake up the children?”

"Um... sorry?" She blinked, watching how a dark, smoky liquid was served. Coffee, or so they called it. She really didn't care.

However, the Moonlander did not perceive the sound of footsteps, so they could easily assume that the rest of the family was still in their lethargy. That served to make Donald sigh, calming down again.

"You can't sleep either, huh?" He took the cup slowly turning it in circles, grinning grimly at his reflection, barely visible, in the black coffee.

Penumbra, despite not fully understanding the duck, could distinguish some words and denied. Despite the absence of light, the former captain was able to perceive the black bags under his narrowed eyes, or the way his nightcap was twisting.

Donald showed no signs of moving except to put the coffee maker in the sink, drinking loudly from the steaming black coffee.

“What are you thinking about?" Penumbra entered the kitchen, leaning on the island while looking at the sailor.

She didn't know if it was about the hour, the adventure that the family had had hours ago, or the recent job that takes up a lot of his nighttime (whatever that was), but she couldn't deny that he looked too exhausted for her taste.

And she could not assure that this exhaustion was only physical.

"Nothing, it's silly..." Donald spoke slowly, dragging the words so that Penumbra could understand him more easily.

The alien blinked. “We have all night” the ‘or until the dream defeats us’ was implicit, and she knew that the earthling recognized it by the way his gaze barely softened as he took another drink at his coffee.

But Donald knew that it was not healthy for his mental health to suppress his problems, or that is what Jones told him when he began attending his anger management classes. Sure, it had been a few days since the Moonvasion, but that didn't mean his insomnia began.

It had begun since he was discovered that he was a descendant of Don Dugo, the anxiety of not knowing if he would survive facing Felldrake had caused the Caballeros to spend sleepless nights sharing their concerns; it had intensified when he began to see for his nephews even when they were in the shell with fear that they would hatch prematurely, but he had managed to moderate them when the nightmares diminished until his return to the mansion, and his loss on the desert island—

He shook his head and he perceived the stony-skin alien, observing with a severe expression but waiting patiently while trying to articulate his words.

"Have you ever felt... small?" He observed the creamy cup sideways, still perceiving it hot but distilling less smoke.

On the other hand, Penumbra's eyes widened.

“Small?” If she deciphered Donald's words or tried to know what he meant explicitly, she didn't know exactly. Something told her he wasn't being literal.

The duck nodded, leaning on the kitchen island in front of the former lieutenant, stroking the handle of the cup with his fingertip and sniffing the caffeine. That still will not generate an effect on him was already surprising.

“Missing, that you do not belong to a place or… to a group of people?” With uncertainty, he fiddled with his fingers, looking anywhere except in the eyes of his companion.

Even the Moon, having been his prison, looked lovely.

For a moment his voice was more scratchy than usual, and he feared that would make it more unintelligible to Penumbra. He really hated to be so vulnerable, especially to people he was not so familiar with; but despite his strict attitude, Donald saw himself in her.

And he felt he could trust. That is, though Della used to be dumb, she had managed to sympathize and see something that he still didn't.

But if he were attentive to the Moonlander's reactions, he would have perceived her eyes opening in realization after she understood Donald's message even though he had somehow made his voice less understandable.

Her people had been able to empathize with the Earthers as soon as they discovered the true intentions of the General, partly because they were not a warlike society and could not deny it. But she was still in that process.

The gravity, the strange customs of which Della did not speak in her not-so-absurd-anymore stories, the difficulty she had to socialize with people who were not the twins’ family, and even talk to Scrooge had been complicated because he was always alert despite Della's constant reminder about their friendship.

Honestly, she couldn't blame him. The only Moonlander he interacted with at the time was Lunaris while invading his planet; she couldn't judge that he thought prejudicedly.

She felt that she still had a long way to go to call Earth her new homeworld.

Unless she decided to return to the Moon and command under a new mandate, but the truth eradicated that neither she nor the Moonlanders wanted to remember that for a few moments they were the bad guys.

"Hmm," Donald humming, savoring again the strong essence of black coffee over his heavy eyelids.

It was at that moment that she realized that she thought out loud. But the duck's distant gaze attracted more attention.

"Is that what prevents you from sleeping?" For a moment she wanted to think that it wasn’t like that, and that Donald simply wanted to know her more or rather, to bring up a topic of conversation, but he had been too specific with the question that it could not go unnoticed, and that his eyes soften more did nothing but make her lean on the kitchen island next to him, folding her arms on her chest.

The sailor hesitated before sighing heavily, removing his sleeping cap to start fiddling with it and wrinkling it further in the process.

"I really thought they were looking for me, that my warning had really come to them." He spoke slowly, dragging his words so that she could understand him, seeing sideways that she tilted her head without softening her brow. "But the moment I saw my sister and my uncle, they did nothing but scold me because I was supposed to be on the cruise... they didn't even know if I took the bus that would take me.”

He constantly moved his arms trying to emphasize his point, and the more he spoke the more he could feel the anger, helplessness and essentially tears threatening to pour out of his eyes, roughly carving them with the sleeve of his shirt.

"They must have their reasons. Don't be so rude to you.” Penumbra was perhaps not the best comforting people, she recognized that. She never managed to do it with Della, and she certainly didn't presume to do it with Donald, but she knew she should try when she clumsily put her hand on his shoulder and felt him too tense.

She had seen in the first instance that he was the bravest man in two worlds and that he was not as puny as she had believed.

"I know, maybe I'm being very selfish. But it hasn't let me sleep for whole nights, and I don't think coffee can keep covering that. Since Della came back we have done nothing but venture and every time I get tired faster” he made another sip of his coffee to discover that he had already drunk everything and sighed heavily. “I understand that she wanted to spend time with the boys, I would have voluntarily moved away from being here so she can recover the time lost with them. But what would they not even have thought of calling me, even if they thought I was on the cruise, to tell me that my long lost sister had returned? They know me better than that, they would know that I would left everything to come ‘ere."

“And where were you, by the way?" The alien asked after a few seconds of silence, tightening her grip when the sailor tensed even more, if that was possible. He, meanwhile, let out a yawn from his beak for what he believed would be the first time in days.

She accepted not having understood the majority, but some keywords that allowed her to decipher the message. Although she really didn't understand what that croissant he was talking about so much.

"She didn't tell you?" Fantastic. Just fantastic. Donald had muttered under his breath as he rubbed the bridge of his beak, remembering the reprimands of his twin and uncle because he ate with despair as soon as they served dinner, ignoring the grunts of his stomach (the truth was that he was already used to it, while his nephews could eat when they lived with him in the houseboat) and the desire to eat something that was not sand and sea water.

Maybe I should go to that island for a year, he thought sarcastically. Or return to New Quackmore Institute. No one would notice that he left even if he was on the border between Duckburg and St. Canard. Maybe the triplets needed help, and the truth is that he wanted to see what happened to them, Ari, Rug Bear and Xandra after so long.

"I didn't land in Duckburg as I expected, but on a desert island for months. Though I made a new friend, I doubt you can meet him. He died at the hands of my cousin” for moment, he dragged his words more than usual and looked at nothing trying not to concentrate again on the sand in his plumage, the wounds of his body, the constant fights with crabs, the sand and salt water running down his throat. The constant efforts he made in swimming out only to be returned by a wave, send distress signals that, due to his bad luck, were destroyed when airplanes and rescue boats passed, the constant fights with crabs.

And having to hide from the spacecrafts as soon as the invasion began, remembering the blows on his stomach, how he was captured against his will and the small legs of the scorpion entering his shirt and walking on the back of his neck—

Penumbra snapped quickly in front of the lost look of the duck, to which he blinked rapidly.

"I'm sorry." For a moment his gaze was blurred, making him question whether it was the black coffee or the sleep deprivation.

The Moonlander sighed. She didn't know whether to take into account that for a moment Donald's breathing had accelerated, as well as the feeling of inconstant beats in his shoulder blades.

"... And how did you survive?" She couldn't lie, that question was going through her thoughts since she met the twins on the ship, but she had never found the perfect time to do it without disturbing the family, fully aware that they didn't know about it and that he didn't I was interested in revealing it.

Finally, she pulled her hand away when he felt the duck's deep breath while he calmed down.

“Honestly? I don't know, my luck never tends to be in my favor” but it had been so ironic that she doubted it was satire.

The bitter expression of the former lieutenant focused on the duck. His limbs were shaking slightly, gripping the ivory cup so tightly that the possibility that he could tear it apart was not minimal, and the prominence of his dark circles made him look... old.

"And... why don't you talk to them? They seem to know much more than... me, of these things" she swallowed, pride included, trying not to say that they seemed to understand him better "they could help you."

It was definitely the lack of sleep that made her to say so many silly nonsenses. Yes, that was it.

For its part, the duck had to fight against his willpower not to laugh mockingly, doubting before moving away from the alien to approach the sink and open the tap, carving his eyes as he grunted before beginning to rinse the cup withstanding the cold water.

"Do you really think Uncle Scrooge will agree to help me? He has become more stingy than I remembered, besides..." What was stingy? Penumbra thought, before shaking her head and watching Donald, who had suddenly hunched over and moved slower "I doubt he will, now that Della's back."

Well, now the former captain was confused. In the short time that she had been living with the twins, both seemed to have enough appreciation, looking like a great team and only one duck at the same time, intelligence and strength alike (maybe it was the 'twins thing' that Della hasn't stopped chattering since they entered the mansion together); nevertheless, he had spoken with such disdain his sister's name, and his touch while doing the dishes had become more aggressive that still surprised her that it did not show signs of a crack.

"What do you mean?" She snapped when Donald continued to growl under his breath, before stamping the container against the counter, creaking when an extensive crack appeared on its surface.

"She was always Scrooge's favorite, everything she wanted was given to her instantly, many of those things even behind my back." The image of the Spear of Selene landing shook his mind for a few seconds, and he couldn't help to squint, "me? Unless it was a necessity, he hardly spent a penny on me."

The guitar to channel his anger and find a more de-stressing hobby, speech therapies to understand him better. A part of his mind clouded the fact that he and his sister both supported his liking for grunge music, even buying clothes with which he could feel more comfortable with himself; the money imposed by his uncle when he told him about his anger management classes behind Della's back, or how much these therapies helped him have a more intelligible dialect, at least until he stopped attending them after their discussion.

"I'm not really sure..." At what point was she fully understanding Donald? She didn't know, but she appreciated it, she could have a more bearable conversation with him.

"Anyway," he sighed as he turned off the faucet. He dried his hands and laid the dishes in the wringer, "thanks for listening, I suppose. I needed someone to talk to."

"Um…"

What was she supposed to say? 'No problem'? Donald needed... help? And she didn't think she could provide it. She tried to think that at least he was more responsible than his sister and washed the dishes, but knowing so abruptly that he carried that way of thinking, and that it did prevent him from sleeping for entire nights, went beyond what she knew. On the Moon, she had had the General to talk about her problems, and Della had had both her and Lunaris, but to know that Donald didn't, and that he also carried that weight because he thought the family wouldn't mind causing a bump on her.

"Is nothing?"

But her mind knew there was something. And she doubted being able to carry that fact.

━━━━━

When Della woke up in the late-night, she was certainly surprised not to see Penumbra, but the truth was that she couldn't blame her either.

She could understand that all this represented a big change for her, even she had had a hard time getting used to how much everything had changed in the manor and with her family since her first day back on Earth, so she tried to downplay it and go for a glass of water to the kitchen, her dry throat being able to more than her reason diminished by sleep.

However, of all the scenarios she would have expected to see as Scrooge McDuck's niece, certainly Donald and Penumbra on the same stage was not one of them.

Don't misunderstand her, she love her brother; but he was so reluctant to talk to new people and much more to enter into trust, at least so fast.

But this? She didn't know how, or when, or why, but both of them had fallen asleep sitting on the stools of the kitchen island, their heads resting on the furniture and snoring listening. Penumbra had her hand resting on Donald's back in an attempt to hug and they both used their pillow arms, and she couldn't help smiling.

Though it was charming, she didn't want to imagine her uncle's (or worse, Beakley's) reaction when he (she) saw them sleeping there.

"Pss, Penny." She approached them slowly, modulating her voice to be heard. Penumbra was who was closest, and could not help shaking her shoulder slightly. "Penny?"

The Moonlander growled before slightly opening her eyes, blinking until her eyes got used to the glimpse of Della's shadow.

"What are you doing 'ere, hun? Was the bed too soft for you?" Despite the joking tone, she couldn't help looking at the alien with concern as she carved her eyes to withdraw sleep from them.

"No, I wanted to..." from the corner of her eye she saw Donald, sleeping soundly and calmly "walk a little before sleep."

Had she doubted? They didn't know, neither was able to think properly about fatigue.

"And you met Donnie, should I guess?" Despite that, she couldn't help smiling while looking at her twin. "Though it's nice that you want to know each other better, don't look for places so uncomfortable to rest, what would my uncle say about that?"

Despite that, Della laughed, covering her beak so as not to startle the exhausted duck.

"It doesn't seem to bother him," that, and he really needed to sleep. Penumbra couldn't help but look sideways at Donald, who seemed to be in deep sleep despite the awkward position he was in.

Given that, the woman could not help smiling with melancholy, a sad glow in her eyes. When was the last time she saw her brother that tired, but it was from experiences away from home that he really did not want to explain to date?

"So it seems..." She leaned gently against Penumbra's arm to feel her hand further ruffling her hair, kissing her cheek quickly before she could complain, "can you help me take this boy to his boat? I may not know Donald as much as I should after so many years, but I know my brother, and I doubt he wakes up so easily."

Surprisingly, Penumbra glimpsed the nostalgia on her roommate's face when she gently patted her twin's back, and though she was still a novice on the subject of feelings, she knew there was something behind Della's gaze.

But maybe she would leave it for another time, she already had enough with a sibling's problems.

"Sure, why not?” She tried to show unconcern, approaching the sailor before the duck could say anything.

But Donald snored unexpectedly, startling Penumbra and Della had to snort so as not to give a laugh that woke the man.

"I told ya," she was smiling amused, and the Moonlander rolled her eyes before carrying the sleepy duck.

It was simple, she had already done it on the Moon and he wasn't heavy. But she didn't remember him being so light, he weighed much less than Della when they used to weigh the same!

She literally expected him to weigh more thanks to the weight of gravity!

Penumbra sighed regretfully. It was better for Donald to talk to his family soon or else she would do it, and she wouldn't think she'll have the same touch.

#el's fanfiction #ducktales 2017 #penumbra #penumbra dt #penumbra ducktales #della duck #donald duck #duck twins #donumbra friendship #dellumbra #minor tho #donald has a lot of issues #this took me weeks to write lol

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concealeddarkness13 · 3 years

Text

A New Dawn Bonus Story!

This part of the story is told from Xanth’s POV, as he has now also been mysteriously transported to Tersatellus. This is happening while Kai, Rat, and Eli are in San Angeles. Tagging: @ratracechronicler and @merigreenleaf! Xanth comes in contact with the Huntsmen and the aliens that are pursuing Kai.

Here is the post that has the links to the other parts!

Xanth

I found myself in a strange city, surrounded by crowds of people and loud sounds. I could only stare as people shoved past me. I had just been in my room, reading over a book on machines. What could have happened? I pinched myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.

When that didn’t work, I looked around. Maybe I could recognize something. I had read about the places in my world. But none of this looked familiar. And there were machines I didn’t recognize and that I couldn’t possibly imagine their function. I grinned. I was on another planet! And this place had such different technology!

I walked up to someone, but they didn’t seem to see me. I waved. “Hello! My name is Xanth. I seem to be new here. Could you tell me about the machines all around us?”

The person just mumbled something and shoved past me with a confused expression. Something in their eyes was glowing. I just smiled wider. Were there somehow machines connected to these people’s eyes? This was amazing!

I kept trying to ask people about the machines, but most of them just kept moving with confused looks at me. And there were people around in uniforms carrying weapons and watching the crowd, so it probably wouldn’t be smart to just try to take and dismantle one of the machines.

Finally, someone approached me with a smile. I grinned at him. “Hi! My name is Xanth! I’m new here, and I was just curious about the machines around here. Could you answer my questions?”

He nodded. “I’ll be happy to answer your questions. Please follow me.”

I frowned. I didn’t know who he was or what he wanted. “Couldn’t you just answer my questions here?”

He shook his head and gestured for me to follow him, but when I didn’t move, he walked back over to me and gripped my arm too tight. “You can come with me quietly, or I can let everyone know what you are right now. Then, well…” He smirked. “It will be hard to get you away from the mob before they tear you apart.”

I stared at him. What I was? What was I to him? I didn’t want to cause a scene, though, so I just let him pull me along. Maybe these people had no idea about other planets and would panic if they learned that I was from a different planet.

Once we got to a place that had barely any people, the man turned on me, his eyes dark, even as he was smiling. “Thank you for your cooperation. You are in the care of the Huntsmen now.”

I stared at him. I had no idea what that meant, but it didn’t sound like a good thing. Before I could ask anything, someone hit me in the back of the head, and I fell unconscious.

I woke up chained up in a cage, with people surrounding it and staring at me. What? Who were these people?

I should be feeling scared and bewildered, but for some reason, my emotions calmed, and I set my jaw. Being treated like an animal was somehow familiar to me.

The man who had taken me walked up to the cage with a smirk on his lips and took out a swab and syringe from one of his pockets. I glared at him. “What do you want with me?”

He just snapped his fingers, and the other people surrounding the cage pulled out some strange kind of guns and pointed them at me. I tensed as he opened the door and walked up to me. But he didn’t say anything. He just gripped my jaw tight so I had to open my mouth, and he put the swab in my mouth and rolled it around on the inside of one of my cheeks. After he was done, he handed the swab off to someone else and then grabbed one of my arms and held it out so that the inside of my elbow was up. He tied a rag around my upper arm as a tourniquet, and he drew my blood.

He still didn’t say anything as he turned around and left, slamming the door behind him. The people lowered their guns, and more people walked up to the man (let’s call him Jerkface from now on). He brought my blood to a machine as they talked among themselves. I was actually able to hear them.

Jerkface was speaking. “Based off the limited information we received from Specimen 311-5-1, it seems we should consider it Specimen 311-5-2. After we get more information from these samples, we’ll know more about both of the specimens, and we’ll be able to educate the public about the threat.”

Threat? Okay. These people certainly were the shoot first, ask questions later. “I don’t want to hurt anyone. I don’t even know how I got here. I just want to figure out what’s going on. Please.”

Jerkface didn’t even glance back at me. “These threats need to be eliminated. We have no idea where they come from, what they bring, how they got here, or why. Tersatellan lives are in grave danger. We could be on the brink of an invasion we know nothing about. But…if Specimen 311-5-2 is from the same place the other specimen is from, we could use it to bait the other specimen. Then we can use both specimens to expose all threats. Convince the public that anyone who can selfishly manipulate the rightful law of nature is a threat.”

Oh. So they were just awful. Got it. And they wouldn’t listen to anything I said. That didn’t mean I had to be silent. My adoptive parents would always jokingly say that all my questions were annoying. I could use that to my advantage.

I exaggerated the fear in my voice. “What do you want with me?” A lot of the people in the room turned around with significant glances to each other. “What are you going to do with me? Who are you? Who am I? What’s the meaning of life? What’s going on with all these machines around here? Why did you have to swab my cheek when you also got a sample of my blood? Would you like a strand of hair too? What is this planet like if this is my welcome? Is there anyone else you’ve put in cages like this?”

By about the thirtieth question, Jerkface opened the door and, while the rest trained their guns on me, put a gag in my mouth. I still tried to speak around it, even so. But they just ignored me even more. At least I knew I had annoyed them.

They just kept ignoring me, and I just kept trying to annoy them. A few days after I had been captured, I was just trying to sleep. It was nighttime, and people weren’t actually around me. I squeezed my eyes shut, but I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep. I was thinking too much. How had I even gotten here? How could I get back home?

And then…everything just blanked out. I didn’t feel anything, and my thoughts all fuzzed away. Even so, I instinctively tensed up as I opened my eyes to see a human-like figure standing in front of me, but they were certainly not human. They had ice blue skin, and their hands were see-through so that I could see the bones and muscles underneath. Their hair also floated in the air and looked more like jellyfish tentacles than actual hair. An alien? Did they have those here?

They smiled down at me. “Xanth! Darling! I’ve found you!” She, at least she sounded like a she, smiled wider, revealing pointed teeth.

Shouldn’t I be feeling something, anything, about this alien? She seemed to know me, so she was probably from the same planet I was. But I had no idea who she was. Might as well be polite. “I apologize, but I don’t know who you are.”

She put a hand on her chest and gasped, but she didn’t sound particularly genuine. “That hurts! You forgot me and all the wonderful times we had together?”

I cocked my head. “I apologize.”

She shook her head. “No matter. I’m here to get you out of here. We’ll see if I can jog your memory later.” She took out some keys and opened the cage door. She unlocked the cuffs around my wrists and grabbed my arm, still smiling widely. “Let’s go.”

Tila kicked me in the chest so I flew back against the wall. She clicked her tongue. “Oh, Xanth. Do try to remember. Kaira was your friend and she also forgot. That’s not a coincidence. You must have been part of the group of people who put the machine in her.”

I coughed as I tried to get enough air in my lungs. Ever since she had brought me to this abandoned building on the edge of another big city, she had been hurting me, as if that would make me remember. And still, I didn’t feel anything, except for an odd familiarity. I had experienced this dampening of emotions before. I just couldn’t fight back against it well. But I didn’t recognize the name Kaira. I had no idea who she was talking about.

She walked up to me and grabbed my hair to keep my head up so I was looking her in the eyes. “You should be grateful that I saved you from those humans. They were planning on killing you once they were through with you. So, are you sure that you don’t remember someone named Kaira?”

A little bit of annoyance bled through the nothingness. “I don’t remember that name at all. And I think it’s a great idea to torture me to help return the memories. It will surely work.”

She hissed and cut my cheek with her knife. “So, you still are able to fight against my powers.” She stepped back and smiled. “A good excuse to hurt you more. And even if you don’t remember her, Kaira might happen to remember you. We can use you as bait.”

Brilliant. I sighed and stood up, getting into a defensive stance. I still didn’t feel much of anything, but I could brace for what was coming.

#a new dawn #writeblr

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some-cookie-crumbz · 7 years

Text

A Study in Relevancy

Title: A Study in Relevancy - Kidge Week Day 6 Prompt Fill Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender Pairing: Keidge Summary: AU-ish.Everyone is born with a mark on their arms of the words their soulmate will say to them when they realize that are in love with them. Pidge and Keith end up with some interesting phrases. Standard Disclaimer: If you read and enjoy this, please give it a like/ reblog so I know if I should write more. AN: Another prompt in which I totally cheated to fill it! Regardless, I think it turned out okay. Also, only did a quick pre-post read-through so it might still be a little rough.

It was her fifth birthday when her soul mark appeared, mere seconds after she’d blown out the candles on her cake. She felt the soft, tingling pressure of the words etching along her inner left arm, the sensation known from all the stories she’d been told from relatives and older children at school. It started at the bend of her elbow and shot straight down to her wrist, six words that shimmered a brilliant red that would be the definition to one of her more intimate relationships.

We could get arrested for this.

As far as marks went, she had certainly heard of worse, but that did nothing to quill her mild disappointment. She had been secretly hoping for something sweeping and romantic like her older brother, Matt – I have searched countless galaxies to find you – or even something more simple and practical but intimate like her father – Don’t forget your scarf this morning, Samuel – but instead she got something that only made her pout. Matt had found it hilarious, muffling his snorts behind his hand, while a look of concern flashed in her father’s eyes.

Only Colleen, matriarch of the Holt household, seemed at peace with it. She knelt beside her young daughter, pulling a small fabric arm guard from her pocket to cover up the mark as was custom, to protect against people using the phrase incorrectly. She tugged the arm guard over her daughter’s soul mark with one hand while the other tucked a loose strand of copper locks behind an ear, smiling fondly at her. “You know, darling, tone can make a world of difference,” She said simply. The young girl stared at her mother, turning the words over in her mind, before beaming back at her, optimism cranked back up to full volume.

“I wonder what will prompt it though! What kind of person do you think they’ll be, Mama? Do you think they’ll be a really fun adventurous person, or a stick in the mud grumpy pants?” She asked excitedly.

Colleen giggled. “Well, whichever it is, they’ll be someone who completes you; the yin to your yang, as it were,” She mused back. Her daughter flashed another cheeky grin before she shoved her arm out to show her new coverings up, reveling in the excited squeals and awe she received.

The interest and concern for the words on her arm would wane and dissipate for Katie Holt. The words would be wholly ignored to become Pidge Gunderson and enthralled in bigger concerns than soul mates and movie dates.

……………………………………………………………………..

He was a little over six years old when his soul mark appeared on a rainy night. He had been up in his room, playing with some toys, while his babysitter was making dinner for him downstairs. His parents had gone out for dinner and a movie that night. It was an odd, tingling sensation that made his right arm itch that caused him to perk up, blinking and tilting his head curiously at the dark green letters appearing on his skin, creeping down from his wrist towards his elbow. His brow knitted together and he made his way downstairs to the kitchen, keeping his eyes glued to the phrase on his arm.

If we both stick to the story, they can’t prove anything.

Angie, the friendly teenage girl from next door that had been charged with watching him that night, had tilted her head curiously as he walked out, saying nothing but simply holding his arm out at her. “What’s wrong, buddy? Did you get hurt?” She asked worriedly, moving to grab the first aid kit they kept in the cabinet by the sink.

“No, look,” He insisted quietly, scowling at her overreaction. She walked back over and blinked in surprise at the sight of the words.

“Huh, that’s certainly an interesting mark,” She said with a small laugh.

“Seems like trouble,” He said with a small scowl, the idea unappealing to him; he was, after all, a very good boy with good grades and good manners.

“Well, maybe they mean it like a joke or something,” Angie said, ruffling his hair and standing. She opted not to tell him what puberty and high school would most likely have in store for him – simply for the sake of his pride and innocence – and went back to stirring the macaroni. “I’m sure your parents will be thrilled when they see it. Now go wash up; dinner’s almost done. Then we’ll get that mark covered up until your parents get home.” He smiled a bit and nodded, heading off to do as he was told. His parents would certainly have an idea of what to expect, and would be thrilled he had finally gotten his mark.

That night, however, his parents never made it home. From that day forward, Keith Kogane kept his soul mark hidden under extra layers and gloves, not wanting to see the reminder of a message he never got to share with his parents.

……………………………………………………………………..

It started out as nothing more than casual interest on her part, really.

She found herself drawn in by the walking enigma that was Keith Kogane, Red Paladin and second in command of the team. She had watched him for a while before her curiosity caused her to start seeking him out and engaging with him. Their friendship was a bit of an odd one but she was grateful for it all the same because it was so drastically different than the ones she shared with the other Paladins. She appreciated the times she and Shiro spent one-on-one, but she couldn’t help but see him as a stand-in for Matt; whether due to her own hang-ups or intentional actions on Shiro’s part, she wasn’t sure. Hunk was someone she could talk shop with who could keep up with her, and Lance was someone she could banter and bicker at without any concern of genuine conflict arising. She had learned over the time they’d spent together that she and Keith had quite a bit in common, but the smaller nuances that made them different helped them from driving one another completely insane.

They were both stubborn and driven and passionate and extremely skilled. Where she was of a genius intellect and could reverse engineer whatever she needed or wanted from alien tech she didn’t know, he could find a way to make a weapon of nearly any item he came across as well as alter his fighting style to cover himself against an opponent. She had watched him once throw a giant boulder-beast three times his size that was created by the Galra over his shoulder by simply crouching low, taking advantage of the creature’s momentum, and implementing a particular grip on the creatures arms to send it. She had helped to teach him to do some basic repair and troubleshooting tactics in case Red got damaged and they were separated from the group, while he had helped her to fine-tune and develop her fighting style. Even further, she had learned that Keith tended to also get the nighttime need to lurk through the castle – typically aimlessly, though sometimes she had a destination in mind – and they would chatter about conspiracy theories or swap stories about their lives on Earth.

Getting to know Keith had left her feeling a sense of ease in his company, but the analyst in her was still hopelessly intrigued by him.

He was abrasive and a bit callous with the others – including her on a handful of circumstances - but he was always so eager to reassure his teammates of their value and worth. He bickered with each of them at different points, but he never let those feelings soil his ability to help them during combat or training. Everything about the guy just screamed lone wolf, but he was one of the most team-oriented people she’d ever met.

Which was probably why he was humoring her, Lance, and Hunk.

It had been Lance’s idea that the four of them sneak out of the castle base and visit an alien speak-easy on a planet about twenty minutes away. It was apparently in Galra-free air space from what the maps and readings told them. “And if you’re really worried about getting caught,” Lance said with a huge grin, “we can just all pile into Green and use the cloaking upgrade.”

“All of this to go to some club?” Keith asked, raising a brow and shifting his weight to one hip.

Lance looked at him incredulously before letting out a small laugh. “Do you hear this guy? Some club he says!” He laughed. Hunk looked a bit uneasy about the whole thing, as if he himself wasn’t fond of the idea of going, but the poor boy simply couldn’t deny Lance anything. “Look, it’s been forever since the last time we went out and just had some fun! Don’t be a buzz kill, Kogane!”

“Well why don’t the three of you just go without me, then?” Keith retorted evenly.

It was at this point that Pidge chimed in, waving one hand to get his attention. “Are you really going to trust these two to stay in a group? Remember what happened last time the three of us bailed out?” She asked calmly.

The mortified look on Keith’s face was all the answer he had to offer before pointing toward the hanger, pincheing the bridge of his nose lightly.

It was Lance that was able to get them into the club, using his power of persuasion on the burly, warthog-esque creature serving as the bouncer at the door. Inside, the place was dimly lit by a bunch of odd, glowing growths all along the ceiling and walls that reminded her some of mushrooms. The whole place seemed to be made of bamboo, though, so the idea of fungus of some sort growing on it didn’t seem too far out of the realm of plausibility. The DJ – what seemed to be an upright capybara with an hour-glass shape in a sequined gold dress - was playing loud, thrumming music that was similar to the techno beats Pidge used to listen to back on Earth, only with a weird effect on them that sounded identical to the ones old sci-fi movies used during big dramatic movements. It would be hard to dance to – well, unless you were Lance, since he could dance to literally anything – so she made her way over to the bar along the back wall. Keith was a few paces behind her, keeping a gaze over his shoulder at Hunk and Lance as they joined the odd collection of dancers out on the floor.

“I’ll never understand why you insist on tagging along for these sorts of things,” He commented as they got settled in two bar chairs.

“Because it’s kinda nice. You know, getting out and enjoying the culture,” She said, waving around them with one hand. He flashed her a deadpan look and she merely shrugged, spinning around to the bar tender, flagging him over. “What I always find more interesting, though, is how easy it is to convince you to join us.”

He leaned his back and elbows against the bar, watching the crowd. As to whether or not he could actually still see Hunk and Lance, she wasn’t sure, but watching the reckless grinding and movements was at least something. “Is that what you think?”

She grinned and held off on answering as the bartender walked over. He was another warthog creature – much like the bouncer – but he seemed slightly more approachable than the other one. Probably because his tusks were slightly smaller than the one at the door, honestly. “What do you have on tap that’s good?” She asked happily.

He grunted, looking her up and down, before scowling slightly. “Ya got some kinda identification on ya, sweetheart?” He asked, leaning one of his hoofed hands against the bar top while indicating a sign posted above the shelf full of alien liquor with the other. Pidge couldn’t understand a word of it – written in some foreign language – and leaned a bit closer, tip-toing her fingers up along one of his tusks.

“Aw, you can let it slide this once, can’t you? With my line of work, having an ID isn’t really necessary,” She said, trying her best to make her voice sound like a playful coo.

Keith was watching her with a look that seemed to be a mix of disbelief and disgust.

The bartender grunted again. “Look, girlie, no ID, no drinks. Simply as that. If a lil’ thing like ya wants somethin’ ta drink, there’s a juice joint about three asteroid belts back,” He said evenly, starting to move back.

Big mistake.

Pidge wrapped her hand tight around his tusk and tugged hard, hauling his whole upper body on top of the bar. He looked at her in shock but she kept the pleasant smile on her face. “Look, Buster Brown,” She said, keeping her tone sickeningly sweet, jerking her thumb to herself and then Keith, “me and my pal here spend most of our time kicking ass and taking names in colorful mechanical lions. And, sadly, they don’t exactly offer badges or key cards for the Paladins of Voltron. Now how about you play nice and just hook us up with some drinks? I mean, unless you want Voltron to ignore this sorry shack when Zarkon and his goonies come knocking.”

The mention of Voltron seemed enough to jolt the guy into full attention, his hoof halting in reaching for the security buzzer under the bar. His eyes flickered from her to Keith, clearly seeking some kind of reassurance that she was bluffing. Keith, having gained a better understanding of when he should stand down, held up his hands. “Look, pal, Voltron kinda relies on all the Paladins and Lions being on the same page. And if she doesn’t want to Green Lion, we can’t make her Green Lion,” He said calmly before turning his attention back to the dancers. Pidge grinned proudly at Keith.

Good man.

The bartender let out a small sigh, realizing this was a fight he wasn’t going to win, and moved to stand upright. Pidge let him, but kept her grip on his tusk, just in case. “What galaxy are you drinking from?” He asked flatly, dusting off his shirt with his other hoof.

“Milky way, if you could. Jameson on the rocks for me, and a gin and tonic for my friend,” She said happily, releasing his tusk. She settled back in before reaching up and switching the dial on the choker communicators she’d made for them. Their Paladin helmets came with automatic translators and, using some spare parts around the castle ship, she had developed some choker necklaces with small ear buds for when they weren’t in their Paladin gear. It was rare that they used them, but they were certainly helpful.

Keith imitated her actions, switching the translator off as well, and looked at her with an amused smirk. “The way you flirt is shameful,” He said playfully.

She laughed as the bartender set their drinks down, nodding her head at him in appreciation and taking a small sip of her drink. The tender grumbled something, but it all came out as muffled pig sounds. It was strong – meaning the tender could mix a good drink – and she hummed in approval. “It gets results, doesn’t it?”

“You aren’t even the legal drinking age on Earth,” He retorted, taking a sip of his own drink.

“I’m out here risking my tail day in and day out trying to find my family and protect the universe; I think getting drunk a year before I’m legally allowed to is the least the universe can offer me,” She said with a smug grin. She then held up her drink towards him.

“You are one strange young lady, Pidge Gunderson,” He said with a laugh, lightly clinking their glasses together. She dipped her head politely, opting to take his words as a compliment, and sipped her drink again.

They fell into casual chatter for a while after that, the alcohol leaving her mind a little fuzzy and her body tingling with false warmth. They made up wild, insane backstories for the other patrons of the club and bar as the night progressed, each story getting more ridiculous than the last. She leaned into his space and grinned, pointing at an alien with a fly for a head but the body of a man. “See that guy right there? He’s involved in some seriously shady shit,” She whispered conspiratorially.

“Oh, I am well aware. He’s into smuggling rare, exotic goods,” He whispered back, his own tone just as eager and giddy as hers.

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

He shifted so that they were facing each other, his expression grim, before he uttered gravely, “Peanuts.”

“He’s a monster,” She managed to force out in a calm tone before she completely lost it, throwing her face into her arms on the bar top and cackling like a madman. It was so stupid, really, and made no sense for her to laugh so hard, but for some reason it got to her. Maybe it was just a side effect of the alcohol but she liked it.

He opened his mouth to say something else, snorting a bit himself, before a commotion out on the dance floor caught his attention. She wiped at one eye with the heel of her hand and followed his gaze, eyes widening as they watched what appeared to be Hunk – sweet, gentle, Mr. Sunshine Hunk Garrett – getting into a huge brawl with two other patrons.

She hopped off the barstool, bayard in hand, without needing any further assessment.

She lassoed one of Hunk’s attackers with her bayard and heaved, sending him spinning in the direction of the bar. He crashed into it, leaving a sizable divot in the counter, and the bar tender glared at her. She flashed a sheepish grin and waved before she saw Keith charging after her, his own bayard drawn. “Pidge, duck and roll!” He snapped strictly.

Without looking back, she followed the order, rolling to his side as the blade made contact with the arm of the second assailant. These aliens were strange in that it seemed they could form weapons with their bodies; what had certainly been a limb mere seconds ago was now curved and twisted into something resembling a battle axe. Keith twisted himself, ducking under the blade-arm, and slammed the curved handle of his bayard right into the other’s gut, causing him to wheeze and stumble back unsteadily. He then turned himself around the guy’s back, shoving him in Pidge’s direction. With a small smirk, she readied her bayard again and wrapped it tight around their opponent, skirting around him to rejoin with Keith. He placed one hand on a portion of the whip, the other set on her back to help steady her – his own bayard returned to its holster on his hip - and added his own strength to help send the second assailant slamming into his buddy – whom had been scrambling back to his feet with an enraged snarl - over by the bar.

The added force sent both of them back through the same hole Pidge had created before and right into an entire rack of various alien booze.

She stared for a moment before smirking up at Keith, breathing in softly. His eyes were bright and shining in a mix of smug satisfaction and weary anticipation for retaliation. He was just a bit sweaty from the brief skirmish, but she was certain she probably wasn’t much better so pointing it out seemed hypocritical. She was hyper-aware of his hand on her back – warm and reassuring and steady – and his other hand slowly released the chord of her bayard so she could retract it. Once his hand was removed, she sent an electric shock down the line, just to add insult to their opponent’s injury. She beamed up at the raised brow she received. “Figured I’d just drive home the point that they just got annihilated,” She mused proudly.

He laughed and shook his head, his smile sparking a warmth in her chest that she couldn’t quite explain. It had happened a few times in the past few months, but she hadn’t put much thought to it. “We could get arrested for this,” He commented conversationally, leaving her winded for a second.

Suddenly her sense of peace when around him – how conversing and falling into rhythm with him came so damn naturally after their initial meeting – made a lot more sense.

Lance suddenly started barking at them, indicating the club bouncers on their way to most likely detain the four of them until authorities could be brought in to arrest them. It wouldn’t have been the first time the four of them had been thrown in space jail – which, in itself, was strange considering she expected their positions as Paladins of Voltron to place them beyond reproach by any non-Galran space legal system, but, as their previous six arrests proved, they weren’t – and would likely be stuck there for some time, given Shiro had made it clear last time that he would not be bailing them out if they pulled stupid, arrest-worthy shenanigans again. She pushed Keith’s words to the back of her mind and looked around, spotting a glowing neon sign on the other end of the club. She couldn’t understand it, but there were some universal truths that crossed into the cultures of other species in the many galaxies; one of those universal truths being that most establishments had some sort of emergency exit.

“Gentlemen, I believe that’s our sign to jump ship!” She snapped, pointing in the direction of the sign. Lance led Hunk by one arm while the other hand pressed a handkerchief against his bloody nose – which, she realized, she’d need to ask about later, because Hunk was the last person she expected to go picking fights at an intergalactic club – and Keith followed after her, running with his head tilted slightly to keep an eye on the bouncer’s, his bayard returning to his hand. She clutched tighter at her own, just in case they ended up needing to fight.

Luckily enough, Green was already waiting for them right outside the exit, having picked up on Pidge’s distress. She grinned up at the mechanical cat as she dropped her head and opened her mouth to the Paladins. Pidge paused and gently patted one of the large, metal fangs in her mouth. “Good girl, Green,” She beamed warmly before following the rest of her group into the cockpit to take her place at the controls. They were taking off just as the bouncers came rushing out after them, their expressions a mix of awe and horror at the sight of a Lion of Voltron. Pidge smirked in satisfaction before glancing back at the others.

Hunk was silent while Lance started prattling on and lecturing him – the irony of the situation so potent that Pidge could practically taste it – while Keith pulled out the first aid kit. They’d started keeping first aid kits in their Lions after an incident where Lance broke his arm after being separated from the others, and had been unable to properly reset the bone and treat the wound. They’d found him before the damage was irreversible but the team agreed it’d be good to have supplies on hand for such a situation. Keith was silent as he settled in across from Hunk, indicating with a calm wave of his hand that he drop the handkerchief and let him examine the damage. She glanced briefly at her arm where she knew those same words he’d said earlier were still etched along her skin.

Her heart thrummed at the thought of the words, but she swallowed to push the feeling down. She had other concerns that took priority over taking the plunge of acknowledging her soul mate. She’d wait a bit longer – try and gauge if Keith had the same epiphany as she had already – and then she’d confront him with the words on her arm. She’d already waited this long to find her soul mate, a little longer certainly wasn’t going to hurt anything.

……………………………………………………………………..

He wasn’t sure when he came to trust Pidge more than the other Paladins, but he could at least rationalize it.

She could be just as stubborn and impulsive as he was – the other Paladin most likely to enable his bad behavior - but she was also a bit more methodical and tactical with her acts of blatant mutiny. He could come to her with a half-assed idea of something to do that would most certainly get them in trouble with Shiro, Allura and Coran later, and she would help him weave it into a beautiful symphony of civil disobedience. Her plans were a contradiction of themselves that he couldn’t help but admire; always well-crafted and tight-knit, but somehow also risky and dangerous enough to keep him piloting Red by the seat of his pants.

This particular scheme was probably his favorite of hers to date.

He had needed time away from the castle ship to clear his head after their most recent run-in with the Galra on the planet they were stationed. They had spent three straight days battling them off from their vice-grip on the world, brought there after the Galra hacked into their communication line and broadcasted their heinous attack on the innocent people they had enslaved. The crimes committed against the denizens of the planet had left him sick with a fury he hadn’t felt in a while and he felt like chasing the Galra off wasn’t nearly enough. He wanted to land a bigger blow on the Galra; something to warn them that they would suffer if they ever took a tactic like that again.

He had stumbled across a Galra medical base on an asteroid not far off from the planet in question and the thought of tracking down the leader of the troops – Harthor or something along those lines – and making him pay sounded like a brilliant idea. Red urged him to rush in and annihilate everything he could, the mechanical beast always eager and ready for a fight, but he hesitated. If he wanted to be successful, he needed to go about this the right way.

He returned to the castle ship and made a beeline for the opposite side of the hanger from Red’s spot, knowing that Pidge would be there. She hadn’t even bothered to change out of her Paladin gear before starting up on the honey-do list of repairs and reprogrammings she’d have to be getting on for the Lions after such a long battle. She perked up when he rushed in, an easy grin turning up on her lips, seeming to read his purpose without needing more information than his expression. “Find something interesting out there, I take it?” She mused, leaning one elbow on her table and cupping her chin with that hand.

He grabbed one of the many spare chairs they kept around – in case of situations such as this, where Pidge or Hunk had company while they worked – and dragged it over. He turned the chair so the back was facing her and sat down, leaning his chest against the back support and resting his crossed arms on the top of the back. “Found a Galra medical bay,”

That seemed to catch her interest even more. She sat upright and turned her chair to fully face him. “How far off?”

“Less than ten miles off, but more than five; probably between seven and six, if I were to wager a guess,”

“You see Commander Harthor’s ship docking in?”

“It was already docked in, but he’s totally there,”

“Have you told any of the others?”

“And have to listen to a lecture from Shiro about not whacking the hornets’ nest? No, thank you,” He scoffed lightly. She snickered a bit. “I came to you immediately. I knew you wouldn’t tell me this wasn’t a good idea.”

Her grin turned wicked as she pushed her chair back away and she headed toward a large bin filled with various tech bits. Pidge would scavenge about the battlefield after a victory, scrounging up anything she could salvage or repurpose to fit her fancy. Lance claimed that she was like a mutant hybrid between a crow and a vulture – constantly pilfering the remains of this or that, while also hoarding what she found, regardless of its usefulness – and, while Keith did occasionally take issue with her pick-up habit, he couldn’t help but find it incredibly practical, too.

Especially when it was being implemented to help him with a less-than-Paladin-worthy endeavor.

He assisted her with the next hour of work that was put into developing a small bomb; a sticky-bomb, as she called it. They had collected other things from their various travels through the multiple galaxies and worlds; some for the benefit of the team, and others because the indigenous people insisted gifts be given to their saviors. One of the things that had been particularly useful was the sap from the trees on a planet inhabited by insect people. It was thick and stuck as well as gorilla glue, making it quite helpful in repairs – also, as Hunk had learned, boiling it down and mixing it with this pseudo-sugar cane they had could make a lovely glaze for his rendition of cinnamon rolls – but it had a few other interesting qualities. When mixed with a pinecone-esque item from a nearby planet and given a wick it could become quite the impressive little bomb.

He couldn’t help but feel somehow relaxed in her taking on the task without questioning him on why he wanted to take further action. She seemed to understand better than the others what it was like when you felt like something still needed to be set right – most likely due to her own long-held grudge against their enemies and the Garrison back on Earth – and didn’t judge him for being spiteful. Shiro insisted that he could never continue being successful like that. Lance called it petty and, while Hunk never said anything out loud, he was certain that Hunk was intimidated by how vicious Keith could get. But Pidge? Pidge knew how that felt and knew that nothing would alleviate the feeling but doing something about it. She could take his desire and passion to help sate that fury inside of him by partnering it with her intellect and ingenuity and creating something that would make their enemies quake in fear of crossing them.

Pidge wrapped the pinecone up in the honey, making sure to attach the wick before closing it all up, with the help of some special gloves that she and Hunk had designed specifically for handling the material in a more hands-on way. She had then hooked it up in a small, hovering capsule with a make-shift lighter attached to the top. She grabbed a few more things – which she shoved unceremoniously into a bag – and then led him out. “How much recon did you do when you got out there?” She asked while adjusting the strap on her shoulder.

“Not much; I found the place, ignored Red telling me to charge ahead, and came back to get you,” He said as he kept up with her. She had grown quite a bit from when they first met, but she was still a good amount shorter than him and keeping pace with her was a relatively easy feat; when she wasn’t actively trying to get away, that was.

“Well, we’re gonna need to find a good hiding spot. One that is preferably more than 800 feet away, but no more than 850,” She said simply, skidding to a stop in front of Red. She grinned up at the giant metal feline. “To think she still wants to go roaring into battle before I have the chance to get her back in tip-top shape is almost impressive.”

Keith smirked himself, Red’s irritation at the comment nudging the back of his consciousness. “What would you call it instead of impressive, then?”

“I’d call it completely immature and stupid. Then again, it is you two I’m talking about, so it really can’t be helped,” She mused back with a smirk.

Regardless of the slight, Red dropped her head and opened her maw to them. “And what does that make you, oh wise one?” He laughed lightly as he followed her in. The name calling between he and Pidge was different than he and Lance; they knew where to draw the line with each other, never skirting over from playful to malicious.

She turned on her heels to grin at him, placing one hand to her chest gently. “That makes me the mature, responsible adult coming along to make sure you don’t get your sorry ass locked up in Galra-jail,” She laughed before finishing the twirl and continuing into the cockpit. He laughed outright at that comment, seeing through it as the flimsy excuse that it was. He settled in at the controls as she resumed the finishing touches on her little project, explaining her full plan to him as they went.

The bomb was inside a capsule that would be able to hover and travel on to the ship without detonating, and that could be controlled remotely. She had tossed one of the many control pads that they had around the ship and would simply repurpose it to control the drone as opposed to whatever it was originally meant to. The small lighter-esque fixture she had attached to the top of the capsule wouldn’t light until the capsule itself was split in half, given that this little bomb was quick to light and just as quick to go off. “There’ll be a small camera on it that you’ll be able to have on the screen so you can see where you’re going. Once you get the little fella settled with our good buddy Harthor, just click the detonation button and poof!” She said, making the sound effect and flailing her hands in the air to help illustrate her point.

He knew he shouldn’t be as thrilled as he was about the prospect of seriously maiming or killing someone, but after what he’d seen over the last few days, he figured he could be allowed this one instance of malicious joy. “And what do we tell the others when we get back after this whole thing?”

“We tell them that we simply went out to do a perimeter check or something,” She shrugged.

“We need something a little more concrete than that,” He pointed out. He knew Shiro would grill them when he found out what they’d done – and he had no doubt that Shiro would find out, somehow, some way –and he’d look for any differences to give him more concrete proof of their guilt.

“Okay, then we tell them that we were still a little unnerved after the battle,” She sighed heavily, flopping over to lay on her back on the bottom of the cockpit. He snickered at her but she ignored him. “I was getting frustrated over how much work I was going to have to do fixing all the Lions and you figured that going out to fly around space might help me mellow out some. Green was still too beaten up from the fight, though, and I didn’t want her overdoing it, so we went in Red. We were minding out own business when we heard the bomb go off, spotted that it was a Garla medical bay, and then high-tailed it back to the base. We can ditch all of this stuff that I brought with us out in space and then have Red blow it into itty-bitty space dust so there’s no physical evidence, either. That sound better?”

“Do you really think that’ll work?” He asked, pulling up to a small asteroid within the parameters Pidge had given him to work with.

She looked up at him with a smug grin, eyes sparking with mischief and excitement at the thought of a challenge. “If we both stick to the story, they can’t prove anything,” She said lightly before sitting back up and pulling out the pad again.

Keith’s stomach flipped at the words, suddenly sending him back to the kitchen of his childhood home again. His right arm twitched, the words seeming to spark back to life at being said out loud, and he felt a small smirk turn up on his lips. He certainly hadn’t expected this, but he wasn’t necessarily complaining; it certainly explained the strange thoughts he’d been plagued with about her on some nights. It was comforting to have a feeling to tether it to. He turned his attention back to the matter at hand, deciding he’d talk to her about the words once they got back to the castle.

Or, more correctly, they’d talk after the punishment training Allura subjected them to after learning of what they’d done.

#Voltron legendary defender #Keidge #Kidge #Peith #Pidge Gunderson #Keith Kogane #my fics

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dracox-serdriel · 7 years

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Supergirl Fic: The Great and Noble House of Gand - Chapter Two: Thorn

The Great and Noble House of Gand

Title: The Great and Noble House of Gand Author: Dracox Serdriel Word count: 1,200 Rating: R Spoilers: All episodes of Supergirl through 02x17 Distant Sun Warnings: Isolation, imprisonment, heartbreak, mental and physical abuse, memories of past/childhood abuse, psychological manipulation Summary: Canon-divergent from 02x17 Distant Sun. With no means to rescue Mon-El from the Daxamite battle cruiser, he is stranded on the ship bound on a four-year journey to his home planet.

Read the Great and Noble House of Gand on AO3 or FF.

Chapter Two: Thorn

Mon-El must've slept at some point, for he dreamed about the first morning he woke up next to Kara. He watched her sleep for a long time, overwhelmed with peace and happiness. He thought he had known what those things were, but he had never felt them, not like this. Her eyes fluttered opened and met his, and this lazy smile lit up her face.

That had been the moment he knew he was completely in love with Kara Zor-El, and dreaming about it was like living that memory again for the first time.

Her beautiful blue comets were the last thing he saw before he woke up, alone in his prison cell.

It was a cruel contrast. Perhaps a better man would've let it steel his resolve, but it inspired a special kind of hopelessness in Mon-El, borne from the bitter realization that he would only ever see her in his dreams. His senses beguiled him, for a trace of her scent lingered on his shirt, making his nighttime imaginings feel twice as real, like she had been there next to him only moments ago, but she hadn't been. She couldn't have been.

He couldn't imagine getting out of bed, let alone standing his ground against his parents. But somehow, he knew that the day had already started, whether he was ready for it or not.

He glanced at the bars of his cell and saw that two guards were by the prison doors; there had only been one guard when he had fitfully fallen asleep. Unsure of what to make of this information (did night or day truly matter any longer?), he turned to his other side and tried to sleep again.

He nearly succeeded, but his body ached fiercely. He couldn't remember waking up sore like this, not since he landed on Earth. Had more important losses not eclipsed his thoughts, he might've realized that his powers wouldn't last long. They had vanished the moment he set foot under the red sun of Maldooria, and apparently, the same held true for space.

The pain pitched so that he couldn't lie still, so he carefully shifted into a sitting position, sliding the blanket off without thinking.

Cold air - the likes of which could only be found in the vacuum of space - clobbered his entire body, and on instinct, he condensed for warmth, his abrupt reaction doubling the sore protest of his muscles.

After the initial shock, however, the cold was soothing.

Though he would never consciously admit to it, he was thankful for the pain and the prison cell. He found the physical discomfort reassuring. Had he woken up in a luxurious bed adorned with sumptuous sleepwear without Kara at his side, the dissonance would have driven him mad. The universe wasn't right anymore, and that should hurt.

"My Prince," a soft voice said. "Their Majesties the King and Queen await Your Highness in the Great Hall."

The speaker was an unmasked male servant - likely a messenger, from the look of his garb - who approached noiselessly with a parcel of clothing. Keeping his head bowed, he gracefully pressed his delivery between the bars to present it properly - or as properly as possible, given the location. The gesture clearly indicated that the invitation was not to be declined.

"What is your name?" Mon-El asked.

"Raphin, your Highness," he replied, his voice shaking.

"Thank you, Raphin," Mon-El said as he took the parcel. "I shall change and call for you when I am ready."

Raphin backed away, still bowed, before be turned for the door.

Apparently, every social convention and restriction survived the destruction of Daxam, and Mon-El couldn't help but resent it. He hadn't been prepared for the fear in the man's voice, though he should've expected it. On Daxam, it was unheard of for a person of station to request or use a servant's name, excepting those of sufficiently high rank and those in more intimate roles - such as a lord's valet or lady's personal maid - and even then only after a lengthy tenure.

He had willfully forgotten the hundred thousand constraints of high society on Daxam. He had despised them long before his time on Earth, though admittedly his distaste had stemmed from shallower motives back then. He had seen it as a way for his parents and tutors to control him, ignorant to how it enabled those in power to treat people like objects and perpetuated injustice at every level in Daxamite society.

On Earth, where rank held little meaning in most social interactions, asking someone's name was just good manners. Here, it was a break with tradition, and it had the opposite effect that he'd hope for, alienating the man rather than making him more comfortable. But, if he wanted things to change, he would have to lead the way.

He turned his attention to the parcel. It contained traditional Daxamite traveling attire of tunic, trousers, and hooded robe, all augmented with a thick lining meant to provide insulation during interplanetary travel.

While he couldn't protest their practicality, he found himself reluctant to put them on. He knew that once he was parted with the last of his Earthly apparel, his mother would order them incinerated, cleansing the last physical evidence of his time on the planet she had grown to hate in just a few short weeks. Perhaps it was silly to cling, but Kara had given him these garments, and he couldn't help feeling like it was one more piece of her that was being stripped away.

That's how he found himself tucking his undershirt and shirt beneath his mattress as if it was a perfectly normal thing to do. He made quick work of redressing, despite every muscle in his torso aching with the smallest movement.

When he was fully dressed, he finally felt how refined and intricate the garments were. Beyond the pure measure of craftsmanship, they also fit him exactly. No doubt some hapless soul toiled through the night making them. For some reason, the thought of it made him feel helpless.

"Raphin," he called. "I'm ready."

He spoke boldly, but he wasn't ready. He had spent months training to face down formidable enemies with his fists, but nothing that he had learned translated to dealing with his parents. Even if he did still have his powers, he couldn't just punch them out and lock them up.

A masked guard unlocked his cell and opened the door so Raphin could escort him out. They walked through a few winding corridors before reaching the lift.

Mon-El tried to think of a plan as they ascended to the mid-deck, but the time crunch made his brain stop working. An odd kind of panic set in as they approached, dovetailing with the dread that set upon him as soon as he stepped out of his cell. At first he thought the dizziness came from his rapidly escalating heart rate, but that was before the pain in his side pitched.

One minute, he was a little sore with a nagging pain running along his torso; the next, it was like lightning struck him. He suppressed a scream as he collapsed to the floor, and the next thing he knew, everything went black.

Author’s notes: Sorry for the cliffhanger... it just sort of happened. But the next chapter should be done soon. Hope you’ve enjoyed the latest installment. :)

Tagging: @emarasmoak

#supergirl #supergirl fanfic #mon-el #mon el #prince of daxam #mon-el gand #karamel #daxamites #daxam

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