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serialjune · 4 months

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The Betty Boop Continuum, ch. 1

George

Sandra twisted my mind in no way any woman ever had before. She'd torment me, hardly speaking, barely moving, her face concealing the bad news. There's only one woman like that in every man's life and possibly only one woman, period, Sandra. I suppose you can't be yourself all the time and, at one point or another, the adversary is going to capitalize on that inconsistency, making a fool of you for the ages. I always thought history had such a soft-hearted and coy way of putting social rejection: left out in the rain, beaten away with a broom, cartoon acts of glib violence and a parable featured at the end. There's nothing soft hearted about Quartown. A couple of romances here and there, the vanishing voice of a Cuban enchantress, a secret shared only by the ends of the Earth, where the Atlantic meets the Pacific. And I always have to ask, embracing the sea in this romantic mode, would I go back to that place? Where seashores yearned for inexperience, that lust for life, mythically our own, but never really. Neither ancestors, either.

I wanted to get away, by night, where I could join the descendents who might take me from this cruel place. I needed some benign fool to warm my saucer with the tender rays of mutual acceptance. If that meant deforming into a sack of skin, I wouldn't mind. Conquistadors before me would, at times, keel to their own cruelty and settle for a savage, only to learn that the savage, too, cannot digest stupidity any more than his own kin might. The priestly elder, coat of arms, no more kindly when he taps the staff of exile. I took a skinny bitch in shades, from the tanning booth, to be the hallmark of decadence both my grandpa and myself could take euphoria from: beauty for an age, eclipsed by a moment's desire. Evil, all evil, not mine, but someone else's: how it is all like a game of hot potato, taken to the bitter end, where the can goes rattling down the line.

Lately my anxiety had grown like a mazey vine of tangles, right out of my seat, a fire down under. All these girls, even before Sandra, had this remarkably cheap way of applying mascara and it somehow made them look like Goddesses. Not Greek. Polynesian, maybe. Babylonian. A cascading yellow face illuminated by the bronze emission of a city bus: unconventional, but pretty. The universal smell of wine and beer, especially where it does not belong... she'd come from the wreckage looking pure, untouched by her own environmental conditioning. Such scenes, such racoon looking smears of makeup, all tribute to the one and only lost soul, the orchid, the phony. Why did everyone love beer so much? Disarray, disorder, aesthetics of contradiction and disgusting portraiture. I know that's the ticket for me, but for everyone else, too? Just never thought the old working stiffs had it in them, maybe we weren't sharing the same drink... somehow always reminding me of her. I raced to drunkenness, raping her with the very presence of my disfigured mind. She always saw right through me like an x-ray. To lose it all in one gesture of over-confidence. I never was the type to lose my head, in love or peace time, but for her, I'd not go gently into that good night... And now bathrobes and chintzy leather, braids and robotic forms of masculinity shuffle around the corridor, as I wallow dead in my failure to organize a plan.

Sandra

So then we watched Adventure Time for four seasons straight, refusing to eat and drunk on love to the point of hangover. Hey, it's embarrassing, but it's what really happened. Oh, love, that relapse of the animalian will.

Teagan (who's name really sounded more like "Teenager") manage to save two bong rips over the course of six hours, all night. Every tiny bump startled him to the point of jumping. It looked remarkably silly, to see a man with a beard that Paul Bunyan could have only dreamed of, afraid like a little boy. The beadiness of those black eyes caused me to frantically worry about things his alter-ego might do, if suddenly enabled by a switch. As a woman, I knew to keep my panic hushed and plan for my escape later.

On a scale of 1-100 (with 100 being "party planet" and 1 being "sometimes I still see my neighbour", I'd say the present year of 202x was at about 50%). I was having good thoughts for an alarming amount of time, then my dad walked in and ruined the chill vibes immediately. He came at me, saying all this about,

"I play the fool just to build you up into playing the seer. Young people cannot see how lucky they are, if not for this one fact: parents act as step ladders for their minds,"

And my brain tried its hardest to reject that thought. It was like KFC, Skittles and Pepsi, during the Superbowl, were electrocuting my mind with their rainbow crest of intrusion. In that moment, I could have told you that I wanted it all in me. Yet how little that was to ask, Pepsi, KFC and Skittles. Corruption is a part of getting older, after all. Maybe believing that for so long led me here, amongst the beer stains and bong water debris. This living room was a temple to the devil, an unbearable chamber of death to any person not "in" on the filthiness. I'd joke around, thinking about a maid coming into this and neatly feather dusting as if she didn't see a thing. People could not believe my dad taught us to drink at 14. He had deeply Catholic suspicions.

And then there was George. He'd walk in the door at about 11, or so, and his onlookers would hysterically ask of his present state, worrying to no end that he might be in trouble. I believe this challenged his patience to some degree. Sometimes he'd arrive at 2am and no one would bat an eye. He'd take off his blue Northface, take a bath, and the calm he felt was enviable. No one knew why he rented a room here, but that's like so many autistic adults. My theory is that "the machine" mistakes them for pot smoking, metaphysical detective burnouts. The truth couldn't be any more ambiguous.

I used this moment to make my escape. I could not stop thinking about the country life and how much I missed and adored that old world. All countries are the same country anyways, and I miss mine as much as Wordsworth's (a "friend" of my dad.) The return to the country, that would solve everything. All this would end. No more thought, no more worry. Those trees could do the heavy thinking for me, absorbing it all. I missed the countryside so much, so much. Friendly aliens and untouched night crystals, so unlike human terrain. It made me cry to imagine. Slyvia Plath was an idiot for sticking her head in the oven and not the lilacs.

Teegan

I remember thinking how extremely hot Sandra looked with that wire frame. She could have been a mommy from the start, all right. I bought chocolates that looked like seashells and left them out for her. I was going to show her, tonight, how to catch a firefly, then sneak in for the perfect kiss. Instead, George and I got stoned and he seemed instantly freaked out. I put mushrooms in our joints, but mostly his. I didn't think that it was wrong, or anything. He clearly was a bit of a badass. His lack of concern made it so. Blowing his mind one more time wouldn't hurt. Five minutes in, he said it tasted like dirt and that the dirt in the ground was making him accept the dirtiness of all things around him. It's these kinds of things that made me think this guy was the best, the kind of guy you have to take to a party. He yelled at me like Patton when he was angry and I respected that. We watched Blade, with Wesley Snipes, and one of our sparks flew so far that no one could see where it ended up. Dave Holster (Sandra's dad) would have believed me if I told him that the spark travelled to a different dimension. Dave watched drone footage of UFOs and recorded the videos to his iMac, where he'd show the equipment to a church home group. I never went or anything, I just borrowed his microphone from time to time. Our new band, "Eeyore's Sorry", was about to make a tribute album to our friend who's mom was raped by her dad to make her into an embryo. Dave told me that God makes solid on his promises, sooner or later, and that his daughter playing PS5, without bitching, was an example of a modern miracle, as well.

So George left, I think stoned off the mushroom surprise. Feeling good, he'd gone to get soda from the 50 cent machines outside Safeway. The dude was told to go get pickles and I think it was a fool's errand, put on by the girls. The same girls couldn't wait for Giorgio Armani to release their new line of eyelash extensions (at midnight) and I wonder if any of them, except for the two Chloes really, truly cared. I left a note, expressing this, under their door and snuck off like a vampire. When George came back, they told him he needed to get Cumberland's pickles. I don't know what gives them such a hard-on for "Cumberland's Pickles". They were going to subject him to this errand, with no explanation! Those two girls I mentioned a moment ago insisted. Stuff like this makes me want to pour gasoline and light a fire... I wouldn't even try and do it for the insurance.

George looked like Wittgenstein, wearing his cuffed up blazer. His frazzled moustache made him out to be the most straggely, poetic stoner possible. The guy huffed and puffed traffic fumes and dreamed of living in the mall's scaffolds. His room had knife marks all over the walls and the door, I think he couldn't find a dart board online that he felt like spending money on. While he was out to get pickles, the guy left his phone on dead and, unable to tell the time, made it to the store late. I think he DoorDashed the pickles from a gas station, right to the store, and then came home late with Grandma's Fresh (not Cumberland). He told me that he had impulsively bought a whole tray of pre-cooked chicken and left 3/4ths of it at somebody's apartment complex, murmuring something about,

"A waste of $15..."

Natya

I was living with my boyfriend for what felt like several months by now. He was the barfly and I was his bartender. We'd put on this charade of two people, cordial as hell, taking up the world stage. There was no temptation. It was wonderful in a completely unsustainable way. Minestrone soup sat on the counter top with a bone hemmed into the skin. The epic orchestration from, "The Fox and the Hound," seeped into the kitchen stench and the sogginess of this bun reminded me of the work sponsored luncheons of the past. I hated work with the force of flaming arrows and only ever wanted it to exist in relation to when my parents got home from their jobs.

The truth is, with or without my boyfriend, my life had been going on like this, well, since it started. The harsh winds and unforgiving tundra of reality was bogging me down and my mood had gone downhill since I was a baby. It says, once, in the Book of Mark, that Jesus cursed a fig tree after it refused to make figs for him, and that says it all. My job was to play old reels of Loreal shampoo commercials for new shareholders. I would typically light a cigarette and babysit and wait as they watched the same old films. If a setting or a nob needed fixing, the eyebrows on the old geezers' faces would tarnish and convey sudden outrage. I hated my life and I began to spend every cent of my savings on makeup and accessories I didn't deserve. I was hastening to become just like my mother and my habits were just as peculiar-seeming. I found a master tape for the "waiting in line" music, shared by all Sanderson & Son corporation sub-companies. This became my driving music almost every day. My soul felt exhumed and stretched beyond the corners, diving so far and so fast into the months that passed like hours. My kids were once very happy just to watch TV. They'd watch so much TV and I'd grow so old. If I died of a fever, they'd still be watching TV. I just wanted to skip it all. Skipping and skipping and skipping.

I saw the ideal life as a sterilized and tidied space. My boyfriend saw it more as a tangled outgrowth of spontaneous elixirs. My father saw it as fathoming the insignificance of it all so that one could be truly free. Last New Year's, I stayed at a YA hostel and watched all the couples come together (just to break apart again). Soon, everything would be the "same as ever", and all the "goodness" that Christmas wasn't would leave out the door, just as the couples had. My only friends, now, are the tracings of the lost souls I encountered over the years. My only solace: the vastness of my mouth and how I could live inside it, like a shellfish. Tomorrow was supposed to be one degree warmer out. Was my life a curse or was this really the last stop?

My boyfriend watched with eyes like needle nose plyers. He would think, similarly, about the glacial melting of grand father figures, things slowly breaking up. Knowing everyone would leave him in the end, he'd oscillate between pure kindness and the positive desire to shoot everyone, like a proud Leninist. If everyone was dead, the memories he had of everyone would live. There was always Teegan's place, but I felt above group homes, trap houses, whatever you wanted to call them. I was invited one night to hang out for the Armani sales event, because the one sister, who was probably into crack, decided ovular sunglasses would be her salvation. I guess, maybe, I wasn't so different, in allowing myself to sharply dive into fate, like this.

George, March 13 [in real time]

You know that floorboard in old houses that feels like mulch? That texture was the scene around here: fibrously connected, damp and simple. Anyone could come in and be anyone. I once listened to this guy, Jason, talk about driving major sized HEMIs off three storey ramps set on the highway. At the same time, Jason's brother would be strung out, not even listening, as Jason lied about him in the story. This band called Chrome played and a sales agent named Tracey kept trying to knock on the door. Just to fuck with her, I told her I was the land lady and she'd have to undo my bathrobe to confirm the sex. I'd never seen anyone so persistent to sell a house, she completely ignored my joke and continued trying to ram her services through the door. I guess the landlord had been trying to sell the place, this group home where all sorts of randoms and fandoms coalesced. If there was ever a sudden eviction notice, nobody cared or paid much attention. It made sense that our Chinese landlord, Ching, wouldn't consult everyone beforehand. I guess this meant we'd need to be packing our stuff. Teegan had his clothes and furniture in garbage bags, at the curb already. That dude was like a Ho Chi Minh of moving between places. Nevermind you, the garbage bags were protruded with sharp edges and panelling, metal from the TV stand to the pipes he installed in the rooftop (he'd be taking them, as they were, "technically his"). The kid came from one of those small lake towns, outrageous hillbilly. I could hear him, right now, recording snaps of himself, saying,

"Don't touch my ass when you come over baby?!"

And it was unreal enough for my great grandmother to have a laugh. My great grandmother lived in Okinawa for many years and was a transient in the Garden Scene for twenty years. After she left, her slogan became, "Love is All You Need," and a dilapidated shelving unit, with the words inscribed, proved it. Truth is, she was an influence on my neo-Catholic identity. I rejected sex, love and all the rest and found truth in becoming a zealot behind the scenes. The more I smoked, the more I became the cigarette and it turns out no one outsmarts the cigarette.

Sandra had moved out years ago, Jason started a new life running a pumpkin patch (but I may have missed the sarcasm when he originally said that.) The more and more my greatest and truest and realist friends fled from the scene, the more this house became a sty. I read House of Leaves and couldn't get through 100 pages before realizing that this wasn't about me. I looked out the window of Natya's "second room" (she claimed a second, after Dylan moved) and thought I saw a turkey sandwich outside, out there. A few moments passed and I decided to retrieve it.

I couldn't stop overthinking about the contents of my pockets. I shuffled, readjusted and gained control, before finally leaving the door, secure and one person. In the wild, twisted twilight, I knew that the war was over. I went over to the sandwich and a giant dog zoomed at me. I couldn't believe what was happening (maybe because of my ADD), but I thought he just wanted the sandwich. When I came to my senses, after many moments I would rather forget, hitting and kicking, I had a painful scar on my head and could feel an angel looking after me, like I was a small babe in the world. All this was easy to rub off. What wasn't was the inevitability of losing control like that in a serious situation. I could go off like a gun, join the infantry, and yet all this fiery dispassion never made sense in the context of my very tepid grasp on life.

Inside, everyone was watching old Japanese commercials and wearing overblown lounge wear, one of the newer roomies even in a golf polo. These guys would one day be my best friends, but that's another story for another time.

Natya, same day

My mother had bought Christmas presents for three of her friends the year before and I had somehow wound up with all three of them. Actually, I took them for myself rather thoughtlessly. One was a "rocket notebook" and I had this romantic vision that I'd become an accounting assistant overnight with it. I felt embarrassed, now, seeing all the entries about, "butt still tight after workout" (who'd I think I was, Anne Charlotte Robertson?). I had a tab left open asking me if I wanted to continue applying for the role of "Cake Decorator".

(The night I wrote down my workout at the reception area at the Hyatt, a man approached me and asked if I knew who Chantel Ackerman was. As I hesitated to recite just one of her films, y'know, the famous one, he screamed an inch from my face and said I had to be on it. I thought that was a ridiculous gesture, but I took it seriously by pretending he was a Maltese who'd been through it all).

Anyhow, dispensable as it were, nothing could change last night and how I got married and basically saw my entire future in one molly excursion. While I fumbled around the haphazardly named "Broadway St.," it was like I could have actually been in New York. I had no sense of whether I would miss my job and I didn't care either. I was growing up way too fast and the little pinion of my heart had to make it slow down. I did not fear missing out, I did not even fear turning into a late-Cookie Mueller. My impulsive decision to get married was part of a project to let go and play with the elements of my life like a fingerprinting. Somehow I felt too embarrassed to really preach it, but my shiny shoes, buckling together, knew the secret, all too well.

This little village of houses on Emerald Grove sang out, and I could hear the patchwork of people, now living, in that choir. I remember fiddling around, for the first two hours of the trip, with a ballerina in a music box and, oh, how it spoke to me... The bijou fragility, the possibility that I could be on top of the silver globe like that. The neighbours' screaming baby was the reminder that all this would end and there was nowhere to go anyway. I was rolling by myself and George was playing something on the Wii, where the Miis would clap and spectators would slowly drop out. I felt so stupid watching him with the biggest, twisted smile on my face. Yet, I felt cute, knowing I was cute. He could have been my bigger brother, my first crush, the president and all he had to do was swing that Wiimote that he, truly, wanted nothing to do with. All was an object of my attraction, written in an arcane universe, just for me.

When I called home, to see if my dad would notice me, they were watching Ed Sullivan re-runs and I could hear through the tube,

"Tonight... We have a very special announcement. Now, I want everyone to hear this and I want no one backing out. It's extremely important that everybody in America year this message...,"

And I could hear my mom whispering,

"Yessss," at the end of Ed's sentences. I didn't even understand what they were watching, quite, but I knew her hands were raised up and all of them, in there, would be shooting at the red scare, soon enough.

I asked my dad for one inspirational quote that would summarize his life's teachings and, with his old farmer's face, he spoke,

"Eat your peas," shaking. And I thought,

"Oh dad, how could you give into whatever that is..."

Love had long passed me by and was now whirring around the subway system at supersonic intervals, turning 'round Giza and passing through Bombay, and again. As these very thoughts gargled around in my head a while, I felt like an old lady, knitting away. The way it was: the way it had been. Out of time, out of sight. I was going to be very late for work. Think they'd fire me? I asked the boy sitting next to me and he looked sternly in his ill-fitting headphones. People I loved kept messaging me on Facebook messenger and I rudely swiped away the notifications. Love was all around, the jittery and empty city meant nothing. Everything was yoga and I always had myself to do a twirl, if ever in doubt that anyone would be around. Alison by Slowdive kept scrobbling on my phone despite the fact I was listening to Nephilim.

#short story #creative writing #alt lit

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out-there-so-it-isnt-just-me · 3 years

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Hey guys...I have an idea if you aren't sad enough yet. I was struck by a painful comparison sort of crossover idea. It would never be canon, but I'm mourning the end of Campaign Two, and I want to be sad and over-dramatic. Essek, but as Eliza from Hamilton in “Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story.” But, it’s for the entire Mighty Nien. Some of the lyrics are so on point for a poor Essek who will probably outlive all of his friends (Elves still generally live longer than Firbolgs by a good 200 years). Anyway, enjoy.

Every other founding father's story gets told

It occurs to Essek, during one of the many periods without one of the Mighty Nein (the time that he dwells on them the most), how unfair their whole situation is. They saved all of Exandria, and no one knows. They are amazing, and odd, and frustrating, and no one knows. They will die loved deeply, but not widely. He knows they prefer it that way, all things considered. But, everyone else who saves all of Exandria becomes legends, while the people he loves best will be forgotten, remembered only by him.

And that. That sounds unbearable.

So, in-between the times he sees the Mighty Nein, he begins to gather accounts. He writes down stories from those they helped, or simply left an impression on. The people who have met the Mighty Nein have an air about them that he gets good at detecting. They attracted the oddballs and the outcasts. And if they're entirely normal (whatever that means), then they usually get a certain twitch if you ask for stories about interesting strangers. About half the time, a certain blue tiefling pops up in them. He almost has a heart attack when he hears “go fuck yourself,” in Jester’s cheerful voice, when he knows Jester isn’t anywhere near there. He ends up getting the kenku’s story, and the voices of his friends are weaved into it. Essek thinks the Mighty Nein are the best people in the world, in their own rambunctious way. Part of him wants the world to love them as he does, or at least have the option to. Everyone should have a chance to get to know them, even if it's just through tales. The world would be a better place for it.

...And when you're gone, who remembers your name?

Who keeps your flame?

Who tells your story?

Once there is only him and Caduceus left, this becomes a more prominent part of how he spends his time. After...after a long, long period of mourning. He has so much life left to live without most of the people who made it worth living.

I put myself back in the narrative

I stop wasting time on tears

I live another 50(0) years

He stops hiding his past and bears his sins and his story to the world. Essek tells his story so their story can be appreciated to the fullest; his part in their story emphasizes the depth of their compassion and chaos. He tells his story, but not as himself. Essek continues to drift from town to town under a vast number of aliases. Everywhere he goes, he spreads his stories of his friends, some serious, most silly. He disguises himself so he can stay alive to do a little more good, tell a few more stories, to truly live the life his friends wanted for him.

...I try to make sense of your thousands of pages of writings

You really do write like you're running out of time.

Eventually, he gets his hands on some of Beau’s journals, Jester’s diaries, and Caleb’s research. Well, he always had the research, but he gets to the point where he can share it with the world. He slowly begins to share and explain their thoughts and personalities with excerpts from those. Maybe he also has letters that he shares parts of (though most of those, those words specifically for him, he keeps to himself, for himself). He wonders if they'd be angry at him for spilling their private thoughts. But neither Beau nor Jester filtered their thoughts very much in the first place, and he keeps anything truly painful out of the public eye. Caleb, well, Caleb was always about sharing his knowledge and research, provided it wasn't dangerous. And they were all dead anyway. One of the last things they told him was to be happy. And talking about his friends, learning more about his friends even after they were long dead, that made him the happiest he'd been in a while. So he hoped they wouldn’t begrudge him this small joy he’d managed to grasp and forgive him, should it be necessary.

I rely on Angelica

While she's alive, we tell your story

She is buried in Trinity Church near you

When I needed her most, she was right on time

Caduceus isn’t particularly interested in being well known or famous, but he never shies away from telling a story about any of his friends. Plus, he thinks it’s a good project for Essek. It's a way to continue to show his love for them and keep them alive in the only way they can be now. When Caduceus eventually passes away, he joins the eight other graves (Veth refused to be buried apart from Yeza) that lay in a tucked-away corner of the Blooming Grove. There is one space left, nestled between where Caleb and Jester lay, but it will be empty for a long time yet.

And I'm still not through

I ask myself, what would you do if you had more time...

...You could have done so much more if you only had time

And when my time is up, have I done enough?

Will they tell your story?

He keeps adding to his tale; he stretches it longer and longer with every shred he can remember. But, even his memory, as long as it is, runs out eventually. And their story finally ends, but he doesn't. He throws himself into activities that remind him of them. He does a lot of gardening ( mostly tea, poisonous plants, and flowers). He teaches children some rudimentary dunamancy in his spare time, for Caleb. He messes around with alchemy a little. Eventually, he publishes the last of the research that he and Caleb worked on together; ones that took him decades to solve by himself. He even finds himself drawing a surprising amount of dicks on random surfaces near the very end.

Oh, can I show you what I'm proudest of?

...I help to raise hundreds of children

I get to see them growing up

The time that doesn’t go towards his now worrying amount of hobbies, he spends doing what he has done since the beginning: caring for the Mighty Nien’s true legacy. He looks after and visits their children. He takes care of descendants of Luc, of Jester and Fjord, of the random teenager that Beau and Yasha seemed to adopt completely on accident, of TJ, of the Clays, and of a lovechild of Kingsley’s that found out who his father was and then somehow found Essek himself to learn about him. In an embarrassing show of sentimentality, Essek always keeps at least one offspring of Caleb's very first cat. There is a very funny story about Caleb thinking the animal was spayed when it was, in fact, not. He visits the different generations every couple of years or so (he has a schedule). The drow makes sure they know the stories of their ancestors, the adventures of the Mighty Nien; he tells them it's all real. He gives them ways to contact him if they’re in danger, or need any kind of help really ( he has funds to spare at this point). Every once in a while, a few of them will get it in their heads to write him yearly updates. It’s nice.

In their eyes, I see you, Alexander

I see you every time

And when my time is up

Have I done enough?

Will they tell your story?

It is strange and painful to see the attitude and mannerisms of the Nein in the descendants who have never met them. It is wonderful too. His stories of the Mighty Nein have become well-known tales that no one can decide how much is truth and how much is fiction (it’s true, it’s all somehow, hilariously true). He preserved them in his own way, in the right way (time travel is something he thinks of with a growing hunger the more years pass between when he last laid eyes on his friends). But in these men, these women, these children, they are truly alive.

One little half-orc girl has Jester’s mischievous eyes and infectious joy. Another halfling man squints just like Veth when she's trying to figure out if someone is bullshitting her. There’s a boy who charmingly bumbles his way through most social encounters, as Fjord did. A firbolg woman who has Caduceus gentle smile. A tiefling girl with all the audacious bravado of Kingsley. A man with eyes just as piercing as Beau’s, and a tongue just as sharp. Even Yasha’s kind and gentle demeanor somehow shines through in one small boy, despite her having no direct descendants. He gets to see these flashes of his friends in those who survive them, and it thrills him as much as it cuts him. (Sometimes, when the current cat has ruined some item of his, the pleased look it wears resembles the quiet glee Caleb exuded after he pulled a successful prank, but he’s pretty sure that’s just fanciful thinking.)

One of the last things Essek does before he dies is fully publish, in print, the entire tale of the Mighty Nein. How they came together, every person they helped along the way. The love, the loss, the kindness, the chaos, every moment he could recall or record was put into this one account (necessarily stretched out into several separate books). There is only one set, and he hands it over to the Library of the Cobalt Soul in Rexxentrum. Then he goes on his lonely way.

Oh, I can't wait to see you again

It's only a matter of time

There are now ten graves, each one as unique as its owner, nestled in a small corner of the Blooming Grove. One grave has the dirt still fresh around it. And somewhere, beyond the Divine Gate, there are cheers and laughs and cries of joy as the Mighty Nien become the Mighty Nine once more.

fin.

It’s my head-canon that by the time Essek dies he’s practically a mythical figure among the select families he looks after. It's to the point that in certain locations ( that have a lot of Nein remnants) he becomes a local legend, the guardian angel of nien (no spelling specified and with no real distinction of what that means), with skin like the night sky who drifts (literally) through towns and helps those who meet a certain requirement, unknown to the general populus. There are rumors that certain people have bestowed upon them a token they could use to call upon the angel’s aid. Of course, the people who have the tokens (sending stones or something similar. IDK how he would get that many wondrous items, but I focus on satisfying narrative not, like, plausibility) know Essek and know that he has died and that the tokens no longer work, but for a while they keep them as heirlooms, to show the love of one drow wizard for the friends he had long, long ago. Eventually, one of Veth’s descendants sells off their set because sending stones are worth A LOT, and the money seemed more practical. They have their stories; those are enough.

And before anyone complains about the Kingsley bit, I felt compelled to add a smidgen of Kingsley content because Essek loves Jester and Jester’s with Fjord and Kingsley is with both of them for years. I’m sure they get to know each other well enough that seeing traits of Kingsley is vaguely nostalgic and warming, even if it lacks the depth and love he feels for everyone else. Also, there’s no convincing me that Molly/Kingsley doesn’t have at least one illegitimate child running around from various trysts, he was basically the Scanlan of this campaign. It goes with the hedonistic vibe he gives off.

Also, is it normal that I completely designed the Nein’s burial site in my head because I did? Like I imagine they’re all spaced out in a circle. It’s almost like a stone gazebo but there’s not really a roof; it’s just a group of nine pillars that support a stone circle. The entrance is the Traveler’s door with dicks around the edge, and each of the nine pillars/supports is designed to look the knowing mistresses staff. The stone circle is covered in carvings of storm clouds and lightning. Wires are strung across the center of the stone circle to form the symbol of the Cobalt Soul. Not that you can see the wires, because vines have been grown all around them. Once you step through the Traveler’s gate, you’ll find yourself on some kind of rough mosaic floor, with depictions of a peacock, a pyramid, a snake, a sun, a moon, and (oddly) a pirate ship. The mosaic is made up of buttons of various materials and shapes. In the center is a saltwater pool/spring (depending on how magical we can get idk) and floating above it is an eternal flame encased in some sort of dunamancy magic that doesn’t actually exist that keeps it floating and eternal. Look I'm running out of ideas.

I can’t imagine what everyone’s grave marker would be, but I’m pretty sure Yasha’s is a simple stone that says "YASHA NYDOORIN: wife of Zuella and Beauregard Lionette," and the place where’s she’s buried is just covered in wildflowers that spread outside of the gazebo to encircle the structure entirely up to the gate. Also, everyone has a stone tarot card by their grave with the picture and designation that Molly gave them. Beyond that grows a weirdly dense thicket of trees and bushes that make finding the Nein's resting place rather hard. It’s said only the descendants of the Nein’s family or those favored by the Wildmother (or Traveler, Or Ioun, or Storm Lord) can find their way to them. And one tree, directly behind Yasha, is dead, struck by lightning who knows how long ago.

And they’re buried in this order: Yeza/Veth, Caleb, Essek, Jester, Ford, Kingsley, Yasha, Beau, Cad. I know there’s a good chance that a) Kingsley would just eff off and die somewhere unknown and b) Cad would probably want to be buried with the rest of his family, but shhh let me dream.

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blursed-ninjago-ideas · 3 years

Text

To the two people that care about this~

(Fate/Ninjago)

Now that everyone that doesn’t care is gone, let’s get tot rambling!

You know what? I decided the best way to do this is to just post the fic I started.

He knew something didn’t go right the moment he saw red.

Smoke cleared and instead of the legendary green ninja, Len saw a boy he didn’t recognize wielding a golden sword.

“Who has summoned me?” the boy asked.

Or maybe he should be called a man? He seemed to be on the edge between the two. Either way he was older than Len. It didn’t matter who he was, what mattered was that he wasn’t who Len was trying to summon.

“You’re not the green ninja.” Len said flatly.

He made no effort to disguise his disappointment and distaste.

The servant in red narrowed his eyes harshly. He had a light scar over his face and all the marks of a seasoned warrior. Len knew he hadn’t gotten a total dud, but still was trying to figure out where in the world he went wrong.

“Of course I’m not.” What was clearly a Saber servant scoffed, sheathing his glowing weapon on his back and crossing his arms.

“I was trying to summon the green ninja.” Len said with confrontation in his voice.

Saber looked Len up and down then snorted in something akin to disgust.

“You’re not worthy of summoning Lloyd.” He said, with a bite to his words.

“How dare you! Do you know who I am?” Len demanded.

“Do you know who I am?” Saber retorted effortlessly.

Len grunted in frustration. Just his luck he’d gotten such an indigent servant. He toyed with the idea of using a command seal right then and there.

“I am Len Garmadon, I am a descendant of the green ninja. I share his blood. I can think of nothing ‘worthier’ then that.” Len said snidely.

“You didn’t answer me.” Saber said, showing no other reaction.

Hands finding their way into his hair, Len let out another frustrated groan. He bet Haruki wasn’t having these problems.

“No. I don’t know who you are. Would you care to enlighten me?” Len tried, being as civil as he could, but still sounding condescending.

Saber gave another dismissive sound.

“So, you don’t recognize me, but you think you’re worthy of summoning Lloyd? No wonder you failed.” Saber said.

Len growled.

“I’ll be back when you call my name, until then, you’re not worth my time.” Saber said before disappearing into his noncorporeal form.

“HEY! You can’t do that! SABER!” Len yelled.

Saber didn’t respond to the name of his class, so Len assumed he was meant to call Saber’s true name. But how could he do that when Saber never told him? It was clearly a test; one Len didn’t have the patience for. At this rate Haruki was going to win the Grail while he was stuck arguing with his stupid servant!

He could use a command seal, but he only had three and he got the feeling that his servant would refuse to appear without him using them until he fulfilled the silly request. So, he had to figure out what servant he’d summoned in place of his ancestor.

Len took a calming breath and listed what identifying traits he knew in descending order of helpfulness.

1. Saber used a golden sword.

There could only be so many golden swords in history and legends. That would surely narrow it down.

2. Saber wore red.

With how much of it he wore, it was clearly a distinctive color that he may be symbolically tied to.

3. Saber had a scar on his face.

It wasn’t the most prominent of scars, but it was identifiable.

4. Saber appeared to be a male.

While it wasn’t unheard of for servants to be different genders from what their legends said, it was worth starting with male legends.

Len was ready to bang his head on the wall at the task in front of him before he remembered a very telling quirk Saber had displayed.

He called the green ninja by his first name.

Saber seemed personally offended at Len’s demand for “Lloyd”, so clearly Saber, whoever he was, must’ve been a hero that knew the green ninja personally in his life.

That was a much more specific starting place.

_____

“Kai.”

“You called?”

The spikey haired ninja appeared before the sound was even done echoing around the library.

“You’re the master of fire. The green ninja’s protector. That’s the sword of fire you’re wielding, right?” Len asked as he calmly closed his book and got up to put it away.

Kai gave him a nod. The kid was much less snotty now and Kai felt less like hanging him on a street sign. Perhaps that was just a Garmadon trait though? Being an insufferable brat and then warming up on people.

Len didn’t look unlike Lloyd. He had Lloyd’s blindingly blond hair, and that Garmadon jawline that made girls go nuts, but Len’s cheek bones weren’t as full and projecting as Lloyd’s were. His eyes were that breathtaking emerald, but not the overly round shape Lloyds had been. Lloyd’s face had always had a round and young look to it. Len’s face was longer and more angled.

The biggest difference was the smile though. Len had a bit of a proud tint to his. Lloyd’s had always had a devious edge to his. It could be uncomfortable to see on his overtly innocent face, but he’d always had a sharp smile that hinted at some underhanded cunning. It was a trait Lloyd rarely, if ever, used, but having been raised the way he was he could never shake that sardonic touch in even his most innocent smile.

“I guess we’re stuck with each other.” Len sighed, placing his book heavy back on the shelf.

It seemed more amused and resigned than his previous sighs though, so Kai let it go.

___________________________________

Jaden was bouncing on the balls of his feet gleefully holding his package. It had taken a lot of money and work to get it, but he had it now.

It was an important piece of the original Samurai X suit. With it, Jaden could summon the mysterious warrior to be his servant in the Grail War. Not to mention meet his hero.

Jaden ripped open the package and found his prize. A red gem set in some twisted gold metal. It was unrecognizable now, but Jaden was assured it had been an important piece of the first suit. Perhaps it was a decorative emblem? Or maybe it belonged on the hilt of a weapon? It could’ve belonged on the helmet. Jaden could spend all day theorizing, but he was rather eager to summon the samurai.

Jaden had no workshop, so he was preforming the ritual out in the woods behind his house. It was not the most secure location, but Jaden wasn’t too concerned. Nobody would dare start attacking before all the servants were summoned.

The red stone was placed into the circle and Jaden began the summoning ritual.

Hands shaking, breath paused, Jaden waited for the smoke to clear. He was about to come face to face with the real Samurai X. The excitement was enough to make him faint, but also enough to make him refuse to, not waiting to miss the reveal. He was about to explode when he saw a figure form in the haze.

Then it all came crashing down into confusion and disappointment.

“Who has summoned me?” came a high pitched and delicate voice.

A girl, a pretty girl, but a girl stood in front of Jaden with expectant eyes. She wore the red gem Jaden had been assured belonged to the first Samurai X mech suit around her wrist in an elaborate bracelet.

Jaden deflated. He’d been conned.

“Are you ok?” the girl asked gently.

“Yeah, I just wanted to summon someone else.” Jaden said, trying not to offend the servant he did get.

“Oh. Well I’m sorry you were unsuccessful in that, but I assure you I’m a more than capable servant. I will win the Grail for you.” She said

Jaden smiled a bit. At least he’d gotten someone nice.

“I’m Jaden, if you don’t mind me asking….?”

“OH! Nya. I’m a Rider class.”

“Well at least I got that right.” Jaden was always the type to hold on to positives.

Nya…Rider laughed lightly.

“So, what can you do?” Jaden asked.

“I’m the master of water. I was one of the legendary Ninja.” Rider said proudly.

“Oh? That’s great!” Jaden was a great deal less disappointed and worried after hearing that he’d summoned one of the ninja.

“I’m glad.” Rider said with a smile.

_____

Taylor was tired and wanted to leave. Her dad talked to Caster, making plans for the upcoming war while she sat there like a third wheel. She had to stay though, because Caster was technically her servant. Not that it really mattered, her dad called the shots, she just had the command seals.

“And the target on my back” she thought bitterly.

She was the one the other masters would be trying to kill, not him.

Still, her father always got what he wanted, and he wanted the Grail. Taylor had no choice but to do his bidding, as she always would.

She still fantasied about using her command seals to make her servant off himself and drop out of the running right there. Her dad would be so mad. He’d probably lock her in the dungeon.

Maybe it would be worth it anyways….

_____

Gerald looked at his command seals proudly. He’d managed to summon one of the most feared Assassins there was. The last of the Anacondrai, Pythor. With such a deadly servant he was sure to win the Grail.

It had been hard to do the summoning without getting caught, but the attic in Darkley’s was secluded enough during classes. The kids that skipped chose more interesting places to be, and the kids that got caught were taken back to the classrooms in the lower floors.

“HEY!”

About to call Assassin to kill whoever had snuck up on him in panic, Gerald stopped his mouth in time when he realized it was just Bradly, his dormmate.

“What do you want?” Gerald asked, adjusting his glasses to hide the tremor in his hands.

He had really thought one of the other servants was about to kill him for a second there.

“What’s up with your hand?” Bradly asked.

“None of your business” Gerald snapped.

He was going to need to find a better excuse if he wanted to keep being in the Holy Grail War a secret, but it was just Bradly for now. Gerald could just intimidate him into keeping his trap shut.

Meanwhile, in noncorporeal form, Assassin cursed his luck. He was doomed to constantly get stuck with clueless boarding school brats, wasn’t he?

__________

“I want my father back.” Zack said.

Cole was startled. For many reasons. No small amount of his unease came from Zack’s appearance. He looked too much like Zane.

Zack was less centered than the ice ninja ever was though and was tearfully declaring his wish to be bringing the dead back.

“That’s your wish?”

“It is all I desire, Lancer.”

Cole cringed again. He didn’t particularly like being a lancer. He used a scythe not a lance. But the Grail deemed it close enough and brought him back as a Lancer class to fight in the Holy Grail War.

“I’ll do my best.” Cole finally said.

He had a feeling this kid wasn’t going to get the happy ending he wanted.

____

“UP AND AT ‘EM!”

Len shot up, his blankets finding their way to the floor and his heart planning it’s escape from his chest, coming face to face with Saber’s far too gleeful face.

“What is wrong with you!?” Len yelled.

Saber just laughed lightly, putting is hands up in a pacifying motion.

“Don’t be too mad, I made you breakfast.”

“What? Why?” Len asked, running to the kitchen to see what awaited him.

Saber never did answer him. Not that Len noticed. He got to the kitchen and was now had a new question.

“Are those chocolate chip pancakes?”

“I had a feeling you had a sweet tooth.” Saber shrugged.

Len bit his lip and swallowed. Saber was right, and as much as that should’ve freaked Len out, he was too busy forcing himself not to cry.

“This isn’t worth being upset about, let alone crying. Stop it Len!”

Mentally scolding himself for a moment, Len managed to keep his tears unshed before sitting down and putting food on his plate. Honestly, he didn’t know why he nearly cried. So he hadn’t had chocolate chip pancakes since his tenth birthday, what part of that was worth crying about?

“You alright?”

“I’m fine.”

Len hoped Saber didn’t notice his emotional reaction. It wasn’t like there was a real reason for it and he definitely didn’t want to have to explain something so senseless so early in the morning.

Luckily Saber took his answer and didn’t test it. He sat down and started to load his own plate with food and eating.

Len relaxed. As rude as his wake-up had been, it was nice to have a warm breakfast for once. There were song birds outside and sunshine pouring through the window, setting a pleasant morning setting. It was the type of morning Len hadn’t had for a long time.

“Where are your parents?”

And his happy moment was gone.

“My mom works.” Len said sharply.

“Your dad?”

“Dead.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Len both stabbed and chewed his next bite of food with a more strength than needed. To make his anger about the topic known? To blow off some stress from it being brought up? Who could say?

“Do you wake up alone a lot?”

Len’s teeth ground together.

“Why are you asking so many questions?”

Saber had the decency to look away and it was quiet for a moment while the two finished eating. Len broke it and sighed after he rinsed off his plate.

“Just so you know, there’s another Master at school. We have an agreement. The Grail War stays outside the school grounds. So, don’t freak out, ok?” Len explained.

He was not looking forward to Haruki’s taunts when she found out he failed to summon the green ninja. Maybe he could play it off like he’d wanted to summon Kai? No. She’d never buy that. He was just going to have to suffer through her laughter.

“How much do they know about you?” Saber asked.

“We’ve been rivals since we were little. She comes from a different mage family and we’ve both been groomed for the Holy Grail War for as long as I can remember. We’ve been in the same class every year since we started school too, so she knows a lot.” Len listed, tying his shoes.

“She knows you’re a descendent of the green ninja?” Saber had a calculating look, looking at the wall like it had a battle plan painted on it.

“Yeah, why?”

Saber’s eyes snapped their intense focus to Len.

“Do not tell her who you’ve summoned.”

“Wasn’t planning in it. I’m never gonna hear the end of it when she finds out I failed my summoning.”

“I’m serious Len. I will stay with you in noncorporeal form, but I won’t show myself unless I absolutely have to. She’s probably going to assume you summoned Lloyd and we’re going to let her think that, alright? Her thinking she knows who your servant is, is going to be a huge advantage.”

Len blinked.

Once.

Twice.

That was smart.

Len hadn’t realized that by failing, he’d gained the element of surprise.

“Haruki’s probably been strategizing assuming I succeeded. She’s getting ready for the wrong opponent!”

“And we’re going to let her keep doing that. See if you can get her to slip up and tell you any hints about who she’s summoned, alright?”

Len nodded, wide eyed.

“And by the way,” Saber said, putting his hand on Len’s head “You didn’t fail.”

“But…. I did though.”

Saber just smiled and shook his head. He gave Len’s head an affectionate rubbing then disappeared.

Len Stood there for a few seconds trying to figure out how the heck Saber thought that before realizing he needed to get heading to school.

By the time he slid into his assigned seat though, he settled on Saber just being an ego maniac.

So that introduces the set up pretty well.

Archer is getting killed by Pythor before much happens. Not important. Caster is Clouse.

At some point Not-Gene, or Gerald is going to get his command seals and servant stolen by Not-Chen, or Taylor’s father.

Not-Jay, or Jaden figures out that he did summon Samurai X when Nya uses her Nobel Phantasm.

Len will have to use a command seal to get Kai to attack her.

Not-Harumi, or Haruki summoned Morro as a Berserker.

Not-Lloyd, or Len didn’t fail his summoning. Lloyd himself made the decision to send Kai in his place, Kai figured out why he was there when he got a read on Len’s issues. Hence him taking on a care giving role.

That’s about all I have planned/figured out

-Ivy

#Mod Ivy #ninjago #lego ninjago #blursed ninjago ideas #blursed ninjago aus #fate/ninjago

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i-dream-of-twilight-sparkle · 3 years

Text

Chapter 21: Life is Magic, Part 1

Just moments after Spike’s birth mother Jennesis’s spirit was sent back. Twilight got set to create another gum portal to get between the palace and the cave faster.

Malakhar: Mind if I come with? I’ll help getting Kubuya here

Twilight: Sure thing. Just follow me as soon as I’ve made the portal

Malakhar nods, then Twilight makes a portal back inside the palace. They then head over to where Malakhar and Kubuya’s shared room was. They open the door quietly in case Kubuya is still sleeping, and indeed she is. Malakhar leans in closer to Twilight’s ears to whisper.

Malakhar: I’ll go wake her, Be right back.

Twilight nods and Malakhar approaches the bed quietly. Malakhar gets to the side of the bed and lightly shakes his to-be wife in two days. Kubuya starts waking up but still a little groggy, she looks over and sees Malakhar there and smiles.

Kubuya: Oops, did I oversleep a bit, honey?

Malakhar chuckles

Malakhar: Kind of! But it was a long, fun night yesterday. So it’s understandable

Kubuya sits up, stretches her front hooves and yawns.

Kubuya: So what’s the plan for today, we’re still two days away from our wedding...

Malakhar: Believe it or not, Twilight’s just outside our room and she needs you to help out with something important.

Kubuya: Huh? Why does Twilight need me? What can I do that’d be so important?

Malakhar: You’ll see in a moment, just trust me and her that it’ll be something special.

Kubuya: Well… ok... if you and her truly think I can help with whatever it is. But I’m not sure I can think of anything else other then knowing how the city library organizes the books *giggles*

Kubuya follows Malakhar out of the room and as Malakhar states Kubuya finds Twilight waiting for her.

Twilight: Good morni… or well I guess... it’s already close to noon at this point. But regardless... hello Kubuya. Hope you had a good rest.

Kubuya: Same to you, Twilight.

Twilight: Now we just need to get Somnambula for what we’re doing next.

On Twilight’s suggestion once Starswirl spread the word to them, the Pillars of Equestria attended the ball and had their own fun if lowkey time together at their table. Most of the pillars choose to go back once it was all over, however Somnambula happened to be the only one to decide to stay a little while longer. Either through more affinity for Saddle Arabia, or perhaps as some respect for her friendship with Jinn to see the wedding of her friend’s descendent.

Twilight, Malakhar, and Kubuya eventually find Somnambula who is talking with Princess Luna.

Malakhar: Hm, I wonder what Princess Luna’s doing here.

Twilight: I’m not sure, but I wonder if we should have her along as well. You told me she saw Jinn before right?

Malakhar: I’m not sure she’ll be able to help summon Jinn, as I’m not sure meeting her once as a filly is criteria for the friendship requirements to summon Jinn from Spike’s dragon tear. But it couldn’t hurt to have her see it as well, she’ll probably go if she knows her sister is there too.

Twilight: Yeah, sounds like it’s at least a good idea for her to see our discovery too.

They approach closer and call out to the two.

Twilight: Hey Somnambula! Princess Luna!

They turn towards the voice and see Twilight walking along with the soon to be married Malakhar and Kubuya

Luna: Ah, Princess Twilight, Malakhar, and Kubuya. Hope you all had a good night at both the ball and a nice rest.

Twilight: We certainly did, but we need you and Somnambula to come with us. We have something you absolutely must see, I promise it will be worth going. Princess Luna, your sister is there too.

Somnambula: Oh you found something I might be interested in seeing?

Twilight: Very, you could say… I found a great source of hope.

Somnambula smiles

Somnambula: Well, I’m alway up to see something that can provide hope! Sure, I’ll come along.

Luna: I will come along, too. I trust you and my sister have found something of great interest.

With that Twilight, Malakhar, and Kubuya are now accompanied by Somnambula and Princess Luna back to the portal Twilight left originally, and they’re all soon back in the cave.

((Story continues after the break))

Somnambula and Luna look around, Somnambula in particula thinking that they were going to see the very thing that Twilight was hinting at once they got past the portal looks a little confused.

Somnambula: Um, Princess Twilight. I’m not sure a huge dragon skeleton in the middle of the desert is really a source of hope…

Twilight: That’s not it, well technically it’s related to a little earlier. But look, I need both you and Kubuya to touch the dragon tear on Spike’s necklace.

Kubuya and Somnambula look at each other before shrugging and then heading in front of Spike to touch the Dragon’s Tear

Twilight: Now I need you both to think about Jinn. Imagine that inside your head, you’re talking to her, even if it sounds silly. If you could send a mentally-sent message to Jinn, what would it be?

Somnambula goes wide-eyed

Somnambula: Wait, are you saying you found a way to contact the deceased?!

Twilight: You... could say that…

Kubuya: Twilight… if this is true… this is the most amazing discovery in perhaps tens of thousands of years! In other words, one of those too good to be true kind of stuff…

Twilight: Just trust me on this, Kubuya. I wouldn’t have gone through the effort of finding you and Somnambula if I hadn’t seen how this works firsthoof. Even if you find it hard to believe, speak to the Dragon’s Tear through your mind, as if you got a chance to speak with Jinn. Of those I know personally, only you two can do this.

Both Kubuya and Somnambula think for a moment then about what they would say. They still have one of their the hooves on Spike’s necklace, they close their eyes, and in their heads say what they want to say.

Somnambula: (Jinn? If you can actually hear me… this is your friend Somnambula. I just want to say I miss you, and would do anything… to somehow see you again… I was in limbo for a very long time, and I never got to say goodbye… so I’d very much appreciate that, if it’s possible…)

Kubuya: (Erm… hello… Jinn? My name is Kubuya, i’m… a descendent of yours. I don’t know where you are, or if this even works. But supposedly, I can contact you like this… I have always been curious at what you were like. And I would love to see you for the first time… you mean so much to my family history and all of Saddle Arabia itself… it’d be an enlightening experience just to even see you, let alone being able to speak to you…)

Spike then puts his own hand over the Dragon’s Tear to activate it. The process can work with just pony thoughts, but it still needs a Dragon to sort of be a conduit to use the Dragon’s Tear and send whatever thoughts or desires a pony has. Soon the tear gem starts glowing just as it did when Spike unknowingly summoned his mother. Twilight smiles.

Twilight: Looks like it’s working!

Kubuya and Somnambula still rather confused about all this, just either keeps an eye on Spike’s glowing tear or looks around the cave for whatever this was supposed to do. Soon, another white energy comet comes down from the sky towards the inside of the cave. This time much smaller then the one of Jennesis’. Mostly because this is a pony spirit, it’s just naturally a smaller size. Once again it becomes a sphere that floats in front of the group. Somnambula, Kubuya, and Luna all awestruck at the sight. Luna looking at her sister as it appears, noticing Celestia has a smile watching what’s happening. Meaning obviously Celestia saw this already a little earlier.

The sphere soon shifts into the form of a pony, the clear shape of hooves, mane, and tail. The silhouette then makes way for some color and specific details, just like with Genesis the spirit is outlined by a white glow. Jinn herself is also white but thanks to the transparency of her spirit, it is dull enough to make out despite the white glow, her mane is round and very light blue, both the mane and tail end in a hook of a mane that sort of resemble the end of a genie tail on it’s own. Her actual pony tail also light blue and decently long, She even has her genie attire on. Her eyes are closed as she fades in, but once everything has settled. She opens her eyes to reveal the light purple shade of her eyes. She tilts her head and smiles in front of the group.

Somnambula can’t believe her eyes, Jinn was truly in front of her. Her tears welling up with joy, and despite the transparent look of Jinn’s body she couldn’t resist and decides to try to hug Jinn’s spirit.

Twilight: Wait! Somnambula you’ll just fall thro-

But to Twilight’s surprise, Somnambula actually does manage to get a hoof around Jinn’s neck to hug and sob joyful tears into Jinn’s shoulder. Her tears fall through Jinn’s spirit, but otherwise Somnambula is actually physically touching a spirit. Giving the rest of the group even if they were here when Jennesis was first summoned, a bit of another surprise. Meanwhile, Somnambula’s just having a joyous reunion.

Somnambula: Oh Jinn! I missed you so much! I can’t believe you’re actually here! As a spirit, but here nonetheless!

Jinn: It’s good to see you too, Namby!

Twilight: Whoa… you’re actually touching the spirit! I was so sure you were going to fall through…

Kubuya taps her hooves together a bit, and asks Jinn something.

Kubuya: May I… give Jinn a hug, too? We are family after all…

Somnambula lets go of Jinn and lets Kubuya give Jinn her own hug. Kubuya also manages to give her ancestor a hug. Twilight is kinda curious herself and sees if she can give a hug as well.

Twilight: So uh… can I give you a hug from one genie to another?

Jinn slightly giggles as if she knows something, but she outstretches her hooves as if to call Twilight to do so. Twilight approaches, and she decides to try a jump hug in confidence after seeing two previous hugs work. But instead of jumping into Jinn’s hooves… she falls through and faceplants on the floor.

Jinn laughs, having known that was likely going to happen. Twilight a bit dazed but she gets back up.

Twilight: Hey… Why couldn’t I hug you, when Somnambula and Kubuya could?

Jinn: Hehe, sorry. Only those who are capable of summoning the spirit are actually able to physically touch them. Looks like we’re not related, and we never met when I was alive so…

Twilight: You knew that? Then why did you outstretch your hooves to anticipate a hug?!

Jinn: Just a little prank on my end *giggles*

Twilight: From the stories I hear about you, I never imagined you were the pranking type... I thought you were simply a benevolent genie that sort of responded in a sage-like way to everything.

Jinn: I may have tried to be a bit of a fuddy-duddy so I could be responsible with my wishes at first. But I eventually relaxed and allowed me to be myself what with some of the silly things we genies could do *Jinn spins her eyes* Some reason no history writers ever wanted to write about my sense of humor, my own book explaining about Genies I even had to tone the comedy down, unfortunately. *Jinn spits her tongue out*

Malakhar and Sultan Theandri suddenly get a little closer and just sort of kneel before Jinn.

Malakhar: Jinn… it is such an honor to meet you. Much of Saddle Arabia still reveres you greatly.

Sultan Theandri: Even as a Sultan, I feel to be unworthy in your presence Jinn. You are not just a legend here… you are THE legend here…

Jinn shakes her head and laughs a little

Jinn: Oh come now, yes, I’m the first genie. But you don’t have to kneel to me or say you’re unworthy in my presence as if I created the entire world. If there’s one thing that Anti-Genie regime was actually right about, we genies are ponies just like you. We were fellow friends, powerful friends with crazy amount of magical power yes, but friends nonetheless.

Both Malakhar and the Sultan sort of surprised at the adherence to modesty. Like Twilight they’ve always been led to believe some rather exaggerated view of Jinn as more omniscient and/or quite a level above everypony. Perhaps they just read too many books that sort of depicted her as some god.

Jinn: Guess, that’s just some sort of air about me I may have to keep dispelling, if I’m summoned here more in the future.

Princess Luna suddenly approaches.

Luna: I… remember you… I was a filly… lost in a forest… but after giving me 3 wishes… I ended up back home…

Jinn squints a bit given Luna is so large she is probably decently different from how she looked as a filly.

Jinn: Ah yes, you are the filly I helped out that one time aren’t you? You’ve sure gotten so much bigger!

Luna: I actually thought the time we met was only a dream. But I guess I was really lost?

Jinn: You were a pretty scared little filly, I sort of set things up to make you thought it was all a dream to sort of comfort you. Your sister didn’t even know you were gone for too long.

Celestia: If that is the case, thanks for helping out my sister when she got lost.

Jinn just smiles at the Alicorn sisters. Then Twilight finally starts speaking again to Jinn.

Twilight: So… Jinn… we spoke with the dragon Jennesis before you were summoned…

Jinn: So this is where she went from where we were, huh?

Jinn looks behind her.

Jinn: Wonder if that was a little awkward for her to be spawned where her skeleton is…

Twilight: Huh? Where you and Jennesis were?

Jinn: Yes, where we go when our souls have left our bodies AKA when we died.

Twilight: Well… I guess that works into getting into what my first question was going to be. Summoning you and Jennesis has proven without a doubt, some kind of afterlife exists in our world. Are you willing to tell us, what happens to the souls of the deceased?

Jinn’s general happy demeanor suddenly reaches a more serious expression that stares at Twilight. She said that she’s a pony that likes to have a little humor, but even she understands that there are times to give a serious look, given the stuff she’s about to say.

Jinn: Before I directly answer this question, I need to tell you some facts about the way our world works. Twilight, have you ever wondered why we ponies need to move the sun and moon every day?

Twilight: Huh? Well… I guess in my younger years I was curious. But I’ve just generally accepted that’s just the way it is. No specific reason why, it just is.

Jinn: There in fact is a reason for that, and not even the sun and moon princesses themselves know why.

Celestia and Luna go wide-eyed that Jinn is claiming there’s something about the Sun and Moon they don’t know.

Twilight: What?! How can Celestia and Luna not know everything about the sun and moon?!

Jinn: Simple! Nopony, not even the Alicorn sisters have been far enough up in space to see!

Twilight: Wait, that’s not true. Luna was sent to the moon!

Jinn: Ah, moon banishment… (Things must of really got serious between the two at one point to resort to that… looks like thankfully they’ve made up) That however doesn’t send a pony to the outside of the moon, they’re sent INSIDE the moon.

Twilight: …I guess that does make sense… the tale was Mare IN the moon… not ON the moon. But what exactly is up in space that we haven’t discovered? Don’t tell me that like… those crazy ponies who think the world is flat are actually right or something?

Even though Jinn has been serious, she can’t even stifle her laughter at the thought of Flat-Equestrians.

Jinn: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAhahahahahaha. Sorry, sorry. I couldn’t help myself. That was just funny. No, those flat-equestrians have never been correct. There was a lot more of them during my early time as a genie, but even as far back as then most knew our world was round from as simple as Pegasi going pretty high up in the air in all corners of the world, and seeing the same round shape wherever we go

Twilight: Hehe, yeah. At this point they’re like a fringe group of less then a dozen ponies, mainly cutoff from much of the country.

Jinn: Hehehehehe, I guess I should actually back to explaining things, but just to say it. Yes, our world is round and has always been round.

Jinn tries to get back to her serious explanation but still kinda breaks composure every so often to laugh again.

Jinn: Alright then… as much as I laugh about the flat-equestrians, ahahaha. There is perhaps one thing in their theories ahehehe, that is just about near on-the-money. And thats the way our Sun and Moon act are quite strange.

Going back to what I said, we ponies for some reason have to move them whether it’s a whole group of unicorns like the old days, or currently the Alicorn sisters. But do you know what would happen if Celestia and Luna just decided to like… not move the Sun or Moon for a full day? A week? Months? Or even years?

Twilight ponders for a moment in a scenario where Celestia and Luna just decided not to raise the sun and moon each day.

Twilight: I imagine our planet still rotates? But maybe a lot slower? In other words, day and night cycles would last several days or even weeks?

Jinn: Nope… the Sun and Moon would just never move at all!

Twilight goes wide-eyed with her mouth agape

Twilight: WHAT?!

Jinn: Yes, without our magic. Our Sun and Moon would just stay where they are on the sky. And what’s more, our planet does not rotate at all. This is also why Pegasi control the weather in most places without rotation… Clouds can’t quite get there by themselves without a rotating world.

And if the Sun and Moon does not move, nor does the planet rotate. It would result in half the world becoming a frozen wasteland. While the other side becomes a large desert if left like that for long enough. The only solid habitable areas would be the areas just between the two sides that would be under an eternal Twilight or Sunset essentially.

Twilight muses to herself for a moment

Twilight: Well, I guess I know what would be the result if I went with my own “Eternal” time of the day like Nightmare Moon did. *giggles* Though Jinn, if you spirits go up in space. Are you able to see if other planets in our universe are like this?

Jinn: We don’t know if it’s like this in other potential planets with life in our vast universe. This could be very well normal in the universe, or we could even be some strange anomaly. But either way, us spirits can plainly see our world where we go to.

Twilight: Then I suppose this is a good time as any to finally explain where the deceased go?

Jinn: Ok… so anyone who has ever lived on our planet that had an average, normal life or better all end up as where we are. All kinds of life: ponies, dragons, wild animals, and even the souls of plants end up there.

Jinn winks and leans in closer to Twilight

Jinn: However, the plant spirits aren’t exactly very talkative. *giggles*

But ahem… when someone... or something in the case of the plants… the spirit inhibiting the body out of our planet and stops and joins all the other spirits encircling our little space in the universe,we spirits flow around our planet and the Moon. We are entirely invisible to the living. But we are all there, most creatures and plants that have ever lived on the planet… Has been around us the entire time. Just invisible, and way, way, way, up in space that no pony alive has ever reached before.

Twilight: Fascinating… but does this shield made by the streams of life in all our history, have a purpose?

Jinn: Yes, we spirits protect our planet from the most dangerous objects in space reaching us. Whether that’s large meteorites, or stray solar flares that might heat up our planet, melting the ice caps, and flooding the planet.

Twilight: I see… now… I noticed you said MOST life that dies ends up up their in the soul shield up there… are there exceptions?

Jinn: Yeah… anyone who was evil or otherwise generally unhappy doesn’t go up there. Instead, their spirits become some sort of dark magic that cause havoc on the planet. And in some cases, damage our shield up there temporarily. An example of said dark magic… are the Windigoes. They’re actually formerly a type of extinct prehistoric horse closely related to our own prehistoric descendants but instead of working together and making up the core values that would later become our world’s friendship. The horses that would become the windigoes depended on hate, rage, and violence in a world ravaged by ice and snow.

In fact, you know when I said what would happen to the planet if the Sun and Moon never moved for a longtime? That was actually once the norm for our planet. And our prehistoric ancestors were at tribal war with these horses for their very survival in some of the deepest parts of the planet where only the moon shined. Our own land of Saddle Arabia, actually started because a few tribes that befriended each other decided to try move in to the warmer part of the planet to escape those prehistoric horses. Those horses had lots of fur and tougher-built bodies that gave them an advantage in a world of ice an snow, but it becomes a weakness when they tried to attack in the warmer areas of the planet. The side where the sun only shined came with it’s own dangers as well, but for many of the first settlers in the land that would become Saddle Arabia. It felt much safer, then the moon’s side of the planet.

The Windigoes are the most well-known example of the dark magic that came after the death of those who were evil. Though they may certainly be other examples even if it’s perhaps unknown what exactly was the evil that died that contributed to such areas, the Everfree forest for example may be such an area. The dark magic collected there may be why it’s one of the few places where clouds move on their own and often are bad news, such as uncontrolled thunderstorms.

While I’m not sure if many civilizations understood why, executing and/or otherwise killing threats ended up biting the land in the flank later. That’s actually why… perhaps subconsciously… our society tries to instead turn enemies into friends… or failing that, trapping them in a sort of permanent state of still technically living, but unable to die, such as being turned to stone or otherwise trapping them in places they’ll never return from.

But regardless, the more evil a threat was. The more consequences there were, if they died. Granted, with a dead villain of the magnitude that reforming isn’t an option. It was still better to contend with the consequences of killing them of it compared to what they were trying to do when they were alive. But the result of killing threats just got to a point it wasn’t advisable. As aside from their death unleashing consequential dark magic to fight, but often killing only made them martyrs if they had any followers and/or others that would be inspired by villainous acts. Some taking the acts of dark magic, as the result of the death of such villains as righteous retribution and a sign that the forces of nature was on their side.

The good news however, is the opposite is also true when it comes to the good. The more someone was a good and powerful hero, the more strength they provide our shield up there. And often said force of good inspires their own friends and family still living, to be strong forces of good that leaves the living prepared against the wreckage of dark magic. Size also matters as our shield would not nearly be as strong as it is now without dragons like Jennesis. The reason why she couldn’t be the one to explain what I’m telling you now even though she would be quite capable, is it’s actually somewhat of a risk for her to be down here, because when she came down it leaves a hole in the shield that even with all the life up there, we have to work overtime to try to make sure nothing dangerous comes through the hole. When you summon me, even if I’m a pretty strong force of good myself. It’s a much easier patch up, then a full grown dragon that lived a full life and found friendship.

Twilight just sits there trying to digest all this new information in her mind. She’s close to an epiphany, of what this all means.

Twilight: This is all amazing information… so villains that have died wreck havoc on the world in different ways… and those who are good or at least had normal lives patch up a shield that protects our planet. The good are actually rewarded for their service by continuing to protect our planet… and now we know Dragon Tears can allow us to contact the dead. Or at least, the dead that are personal friends, lovers, or family… I feel like I’m close to realizing something… but I think I may need to ask one more question before I really say it for absolute certain…

Jinn: Anything, shoot me with whatever ya got.

Twilight: What… exactly is a Dragon’s Tear? Why is it so powerful?

Jinn: Very good question, Twilight. I’m glad you asked that. As you’ve heard, the Dragon Tear’s often only come from dying dragons. Though not all dragons who died left one, it takes a dragon having found friendship within their lives to make it more likely they leave one. And also as I’ve told you, dragons who found friendship absolutely offer the most support up in the shield. But if they’ve left a tear, it meant they had so much excess soul magic, that some of it had to be left on the planet.

Twilight: I actually have a bit of an addendum about this… you see… Spike cried a Dragon’s tear. However, he’s still living because he managed to use it to save himself and my friends. Is there an explanation for that?

Jinn: …Oh wow, Spike had to been through a real emotional scene to have done that…

Yes… it’s technically possible for a dragon to drop a Dragon’s Tear and live. But… it has to be basically a near-death experience and the dragon has to have fast reflexes and amount of love for those he wishes to protect to just manage to use their own Dragon’s Tear to save others.

Twilight: And that’s basically what happened… I can give the details about what happened a little later… you may continue answering my Dragon’s Tear question.

Jinn: Right, but basically all I have left to say… is that the Dragon’s Tear contains excess soul magic of the Dragon that passed. Most of the soul magic is what makes up the Dragon’s spirit that heads up in the shield. But a Dragon’s Tear contains within it the power of a Dragon Spirit that can either be used to protect with powerful magic shields around the living and/or contact deceased spirits when used by a dragon

Twilight gasps, knowing that’s the reason why the main use of the tear was a shield that protected her friends and Spike himself from the blasts that Zathir made Twilight while hypnotized blast at them. Though she is also affixed on Jinn saying soul magic.

Twilight: Jinn… you mentioned soul magic… multiple times now in fact… Is every single spirit in the shield up there made of this same soul magic?

Jinn nods vertically to indicate a Yes

Twilight: Then… are our souls… magic?

Jinn: You are sooooo close to getting it! Think a little more broadly then souls…

Twilight: More… broadly… then souls…

Twilight suddenly perhaps expresses a gasp so loud it echoes throughout the cave.

Twilight: Magic is not just friendship and love, or even just our emotions whether good or bad… Magic also isn’t just the spells we cast… nor is it just the many magical artifacts and items that exist in our world… it’s... life…

Life itself… is… Magic too!

UP NEXT: Chapter 22 - Life is Magic, Part 2

#Secrets Of The Dragon's Tear #Malakhar #Malakhar Manat #Twilight Sparkle #Genie #Kubuya Atka #Kubuya #Somnambula #Princess Luna #Jinn #Spirit Summoning #Princess Celestia #Luna #Celestia #Sultan Theandri

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mcrvictoria · 3 years

Text

God (the play)

Characters: A mottle group that went to grade school together till the end of High school. Even though they have different personalities, they maintain a close relationship even in there late twenties. Bringing New couples into the mix and dealing with the off-putting scenarios the characters create.

God: Stereotypical character, white toga Style robe. Seems innocent almost naive. Seems to have an Identity crisis. Definite wisdom but seems simple when dealing with tough situation. Playful and whimsical as well.

Phil: Late twenties, anal and looks for people's approval even though he's successful at his job. Seems a bit needy with a touch of sarcasm that is retracted when he goes to far. Can be self-defeating and can be a bit of a whiner.

Martha: Wise but quietly wanting everyone to be happy. A people-pleaser, her main goal is to become the perfect host. Dedicated to Phil. Knows things others don't seem to know but can be so blind at times and a bit of a snob. She seems to miss the small things.

Tom: Very religious, devout, a little dumb. Easily influenced by Jen. Very scattered and reactionary. Illogical. Blind to all around him. Controlled by base emotions and short tempered.

Jen: Tom's Girlfriend. Not smart but thinks she is. Really argumentative. Emotional and reactive. Very aggressive. Uses sex as a weapon with Tom. Massively manipulative.

Tammy: The most unlucky person ever. If anything can go wrong, it will. She falls a lot, always hurt, outer circle even affected. Can be sad and meek at times. But still seems to carry a smile even if fake. Has an expecting nature about her and stoic.

Dr. Segal: Arrogant, controlling, big ego. Is a Player and condescending. Very shallow and materialistic. Male chauvinistic personality. Objectives women. Really believes he's better than others.

Corina: Very shallow, gold digger, materialistic. Only wears and top brands but never pays for anything. Has multiple boyfriends. Dr. Segal being one of them. Using her looks for gains. Very flirty cheats on all relationships.

Zoe: A clone of Corina but pretends to be dumber. Wrestles with being moral has a conscience but ignores it most times. Important to mimic Corina as much as possible.

Liz: Rhon's Girlfriend, an accomplished musician, university TA. Sweet, kind, a little silly, quiet and very smart. Super humble, supportive and affectionate. Loves animals and people. Can be naive because she wants to believe in the best of people.

Death: Based on a grandmother character. Super sweet, soft just exudes love. Must have grannies glasses. Flowered dress. Little hate, like going to church on Sunday. Cane, just someone you would love no matter what.

Rhon (the actor): Liz's boyfriend, logical, scientific in nature. A intellectual always ready for a debate. Can be loud at times. Knows a lot about the universe and not afraid to share his ideas. Strong sense of self.

Rhon Grenon (The director): Laid back but impatient, direct, demanding if pushed. Also has a contradicting personality, a “I don't care attitude”, but takes everything personal. Knows what he likes and can be a little arrogant about it.

Cue card guy: The real Rhon Grenon. AKA, L.A. Glanvill

Song list:

Voy Vance - Make it rain.

Kidnap kid - first light.

The Pete box - Wave.

Syd Matters – River sister.

Pretty lights – Finally moving.

Patrick Watson – To build a home. (Tammy Dies)

Youngblood Hawk – We come running.

Our last night – Voices.

Two Feet – Had some drinks.

San Holo – Light.

Suuns – Translate.

The Chemical Brothers - Snow.

Miike Snow – Cult logic.

John Butler – Ocean.

Waterboys – To close to heaven.

Phosphoroscent – Song for Zula.

The Strumbellas – We don't know.

Ray LaMontagne – Empty.

The Acid – Basic Instinct.

Low- Lullaby

Crews:

Sound Crew: Responsible of overall feel of the atmosphere and vital to success of the feel of the play.

Lighting crew: Timing is everything. Absolute focus is necessary or wont work especially in the end.

Food Crew: Have to do set up during end of play, Quietly and quickly. Then responsible to encourage people to start to eat. Bring them food or ask them what they want.

Audience Plants: Willing to engage neighbours and encourage them to get involved to the party. Start before the play starts.

Make-up crew: Responsible for all wardrobe and make-up but essential at the end to make Jen a car accident victim..

Visual Crew: Responsible for timing and visual play on TV. Easter Egg

Set Crew: Layout and design as well of placement for optimal full party organization.

Media Crew: Hit all formats of social media. Create a buzz.

Flood of lights across a room, showing all the details of the stage. Centre stage is a typical living room with couch and TV facing audience. Modern style decor Music plays softly in the background. Looks like there is a preparation for a party going on. Banner saying congratulations up and balloons, food out. Three characters are already walking around finishing prepping. The Lights dim, the characters continue to do what they are doing, above the lights and music comes the deep booming voice of God as his speech continues, the rest get the room finished and ready for the party.

GOD: In the beginning there was nothing. Pause Nothing here anyway. This darkness, which wasn't actually darkness at the time because no one had come along to start naming things. Just was... Pause nevertheless; anyway; All the same. From the darkness I created the sun, the moon and all the stars. People weren't even on my mind at this point. I was creating scenery. See. Then I laid out the earth here and touched it up with all the beauty I could imagine. Birds, flowers, trees, beetles, rocks, sand, rainbows and snowy peaked mountains. Eventually, water crept up on the land as land invaded the waters and beasts I envisioned lived in blissful ignorance. All but one; Distaste in voice HUMANS. Humans who started thinking that they had monkeys as ancestors. Who considered themselves the descendants of muscular slugs, who heroically dragged their slippery bodies from the water to land to evolve. Again distaste in voice Suddenly, I feel a need to inform them of their folly; To make my presence known; To inform educate, instruct and edify; To help them understand themselves and to do something. Pause You see, I've become so incredibly bored.

Lights rise again full. The three characters are speaking with one another from across the room. Light music. The doorbell rings.

Phil: I'll Get it. Walks towards the door. Stage Left. Martha raises a hand but not her head as she works away at making finger sandwiches. Phil opens the door to Tammy, Jen, and Thom. Who is carrying a bag of ice. Tammy has a grease mark on her face and her hands are slightly stained, her clothes are wrinkled and hair all messed.

Oh my god Tammy what the hell happened?

Tammy looks at her feet and doesn't answer.

Tom: Her car had a little trouble.

Jen: A little Trouble? I didn't even know that thing could move. It was a rolling horror show.

Tom: She just had a flat tire. Jen: A flat tire!?! I think all four tires of those tires were running on rims. She had flat rims.

Phil: Takes Tammy's hand You ok, hun?

Tammy nods her head walks over and puts a bowl of crab dip that she brought on the table.

Tammy: I'll put the Crab dip here that I made here Martha. Is that ok?

Martha: Come in, come in all of you. Why are you all standing around? Yes Tammy that's fine, right there is fine.

Phil moves to the side and holds the door open. The three walk by him and toss their jackets on the side chair. Phil, looking towards the entering guests goes to close the door behind him but Dr. Segal with Corina and Zoe walk in one on each arm like arm candy. Bumping into Phil as they enter.

Dr. Segal: How's it going, Hi, Hi. I'm here let the party begin.

Phil goes to close the door and looks out to the audience. The spotlight focuses on him. The rest of the cast greet each other , and talk give hugs and hellos. They all grab drinks that Martha is holding on a tray.

Phil: I decided to throw a party. Because I never do these kind of things: Normally I like a nice quiet night in with my fiance, Martha. Or a night on the town at a play, an intimate blues bar or a open air concert. But not in my house, I'm not to found of having people in my house. But these are my friends.

Pause, looks at the group.

A motley crew of misanthropes; self-doubters the lot of them. But aren't we all? They hide it well though, don't they? Dr. Segal there, with the ladies by his side. A plastic surgeon. He has devoted his life, specifically, to enlarging the mammary glands on the already well-endowed women: Women such as Corina, The young woman on his left.

Corina laughs, pushes her chest out, and gives Dr. Segal a slap on the shoulder

Corina didn't always look like that. Nor did any of us really want her to. She's beautiful, in her own way. Then there's Zoe who's thinking of surgery herself, but isn't sure. Why you ask? Because she isn't sure of anything or at least that's what I think. She sure seems to know everything.

Zoe steps back from the other two and raising one hand begins to yatter in a way that the others two roll their eyes at her

Phil: Jen and Tom, have a dysfunctional/ destructive relationship if there ever has been one. They can fight about anything; where the sun sets. What time it is on the moon. If an orange was purple what would it be called? But then they have, or so I've been told, knock out sex. Isn't that the way though?

Jen and Tom seem to be arguing about something of near the kitchen table

And then there's Tammy, poor, poor Tammy. We've been calling her that for years now. Nothing that we know of has ever gone her way. Her father left when she was four, then her mother died on her when she was five. She was shipped off and raised by a grandmother who didn't believe in children. Lucky for her she died when she was Ten. Then many foster-homes. And she disappeared for a good five years. These things are not mentioned in the group. None of ask and she doesn't share. Since she came back her luck has even gotten worse. If there is a chair leg to catch a toe on , she will. If she jumps a green light, she'll get t-boned by another car. If she dates a nice guy. An aspiring doctor...and don't let her know I told you this... he'll end up being the doctor only so much as that he'll get caught dismembering the neighbourhood cats.

Tammy goes to sit down and falls of the chair. Spilling her drink on herself

Then there is Martha and I, We've been together six years now. One day soon I am going to ask for her hand... I didn't know I could love someone this much. And this is my party which I have been planning for two weeks. Now you are all up to speed let's jump in and see where this goes.

Martha is handing out food still and the doorbell rings again. Stage lights up and Phil walks over to answer the door.

Rhon: Hey buddy boy! Gives Phil a hug then pushes him

Phil: Where's Liz?

Rhon: She's on her way. She wanted to bring her own car so she could leave when she wanted to from work.

Rhon Takes of his coat and drops it on the couch, Phil goes to close the door and Liz enters with God slightly behind her. She runs in leaving the door open, God wanders in as the attention is on Liz

Liz: Rhon, Rhon. I won! I won the award for my composition!

She runs across the room and hugs Rhon. Rhon raises a glass in his hand to toast her

Rhon: A toast, To Liz, who just won some epic award for which I assume is a beautiful musical composition.

Everyone raise their glasses, cheer and then drink deeply. Then the girls jump up and down in excitement and joy. Before going back to what they were doing. Lights dim. God Stands beside the couch examining the room, Hands behind his back, Tipping forwards on his feet. Phil goes and closes the door and turns to the audience. Spot light on Phil

Phil: Then there's Rhon and Liz. There's not a better couple out there, as far any of us can tell. And If I have to admit it I'm bit jealous of their relationship. Supportive and loving, disgustingly perfect. And then there's this...

Pauses looks at God hand stuck in air and confused

This Guy who I have never seen before. Who is this guy?

Stage lights up Phil walks over to Liz and Rhon who is excitedly talking to Rhon.

Phil: Who's your friend?

Liz: Who?

Phil: Dude with the beard. He came with you didn't he?

Liz: Never seen him before.

Everyone looks at God who is now watching the TV. Music changes to christian Gospel

Rhon: Who is this guy? And What's with the music?

Phil: Martha can we put on a different CD?

Martha walks over to change the CD but it keeps playing as she pulls out the CD as she holds it. She looks dumbfounded. Phil walks over to God

Phil: Hi There.

Looking quizzical, God just smiles, a kind generous smile

God: Good day, Sir.

Phil: Umm, Might I ask who you came with? Who you came with?

God pauses for a second, glances around the room and back to Phil. Some are looking at him, Liz, Rhon, and Tammy are paying attention to what he's saying. All others are conversing about there places and do not hear what he is about to say

God: I am God

Looking puzzled like he doesn't understand the question

Phil: God? As in Godfry. Right?

God: No, no, no. God.

Glances till he locks eyes towards Martha direction

Ask Martha.

Phil: Oh, you're a friend of Martha's.

God: Yes and no. But she'll understand.

Phil: God. Okay, God. I see.

Lights dim again, spotlight on God. Rest of the cast freezes.

God: To the audience. People simply do not understand. Was I to believe that they honestly would? God is not something that comes and talks to one Saturday night. Something, someone? That just shows up in your living room. God is supposed to be ethereal, everlasting and above all else, somewhere else; Somewhere mystical and above the clouds. Or trenched deep within one's heart: not standing on your carpet in your front room. How can I make them understand who I am? Well I cannot; they simply do, or they do not.

Lights back to full

Phil: God then.

God: To audience And Phil here does.

Phil: May I introduce you to my friend, Moses, Jesus and Mary. Snickers

God: I see. Sarcasm is the lowest form of humour. Has no one ever told you that, Phil?

Phil looks slightly shocked

Phil: How do you know my name?

God: I told you Phil, I am God.

Phil: I see.

God: Need I prove this to you somehow?

Phil: That may be a way to get over this awkwardness, no?

God: No.

Phil: No?

God: Yes, yes, of course. How might I prove this to you?

Phil: Snapping his fingers What was the name of the dog I had in high school? God responds quickly

God: Skippy

Phil: Where did I lose my Blanket when I was four?

God: You didn't, your mom threw it out? Taken aback and surprised but determined to catch him

Phil: Fine then, what is my favourite food?

God: Chocolate: which is odd, thought not as odd as the fact, bearing in mind the aforementioned fact, that you have never had a cavity. Thanks to me. He winks and giggles

Phil: And what...

God: Toothpaste.

Phil: Where...

God: Georgetown.

Phil: Stepping back But...

God: Spruce street, a quarter past five or quarter after five, Simultaneous multiple partners, a lakeside resort on the edge of Owen Sound, A four hundred dollar plate, the grass behind your house, with-in the bushes, Dying cats and teddy bear named Woo-woo you lost while searching for your little sister when she was lost one foggy May morning.

Phil: Head dropping Woo-woo.

God: Speaking in a Jamaican accent Yah Phil. I'm da real ting mon. And to answer you next question, I am here to raise my praise. People jus don believe anymore. Don believe in anything. And we all need somethin' to believe in, right mon. I am da lord and Savior. But if yu need some more proof.... Raises his hands above his head

Phil: No, No, that's alright. I'll play along.

God: Normal voice Are you sure? I have this amazing dancing elephant that will materialize at a moments notice. Doesn't make a mess. It's the dearest little thing I have ever seen.

Phil: No, I'm certain. But, could you do me a favour? I know you want to raise your praise and all, but could you keep the preaching to a minimum? I have been planning this party for a couple of weeks and really, well religious talk is such a downer. We just want to have fun.

God: Kicking his at the ground, head hung low, eyes looking up puppy-dog like Aww come on, I need to help people , help them understand that's there's something out there looking out for them.

Phil: Please. Begging

God: Oh All right, I'll try.

Phil: Try? If memory serves me right, you tried a few things a few times before and they have hardly worked out properly.

God: British accent Scotch, ma boy, I kna yu have a bottle a twenty five under yu bed.

Phil: Smiles I was saving that for a special occasion.

God: Well that special occasion is here.

Martha: Having made her way over to God Rod is it? My, my you should be wearing more clothing: it's cold out there.

God: Do you know what might warm me up?

Martha: Pigs in a blanket?

God: Yup. Pigs in a blanket. Smiles

Phil walks over to help Martha grab the food

Phil: It's god you know that don't you?

Martha: Yes of course I do. Who wouldn't know God?

Dr. Segal walks over quickly. God walks of to the food table. Picks up the crab dip that Tammy brought, Snif s it and gives a troubled face. Puts it back down

Dr. Segal: Who is that?

Phil: He's God.

Dr. Segal: With a smile on his face Let's look at this rationally, shall we. God, the being who created the universe, who created the prototypes for you and me. Who keeps the world spinning, who sends the sun up and the moon down. Or whatever it is that happens there. The big guy in the sky. He's here in your living room. The man with a plan, all the answers.

Corina overhears and comes over with Zoe in tow

Corina: This is stupid. If he has all the answers I don't care! All that matters is how you look and what you have. Everyone knows that.

Zoe: OMG! Corina come on that's not true. What about sad people: They need our help to make them happy. Like makeup and stuff.

Corina: Laughs loud and claps here hands like she has a great idea I know everybody feels better when you get a good haircut. Looking with wide eyes like she has a secret to share. We should start a club or crowd funding or group or facebook or whatever to give make-up workshops in Africa or hair extensions to the poor.

Both Girls squeal in delight and give each other a high five

Both: OMG YEAAA!!!

Phil looks dumbfounded and looks back to Dr. Segal to finish his conversation. Both girls talk among themselves

Phil: Umm, anyway sure, To answer you. Why not? I mean why not? Don't you...

Dr. Segal: Believe in God? Sure, sure. Why not. I believe in God But The guy with the beard over there is trying to steal your gold pen.

Phil: Pointing at God Hey, hey put that down!

God: Looking startled It's a beautiful pen Phil, lovely Fine gold.

Phil: Yeah, well you can see why I would be a little nervous about it then.

God: Indeed.

Dr. Segal and Phil walk over to where God is

Phil: And you might expect that I will Question why you have chosen to visit me. Tonight of all nights.

God: Indeed

Spot light on Phil

Phil: To Audience A rope walks into a bar and orders a beer, The bartenders says, Says we don't serve ropes here. The the rope bends over and shows him the top of his head and says fraid knot? No, wait that's not the one I wanted. Slaps himself on the knee Guy walks into a party and says, “ I'm God.” No, that's not nearly as funny. Guy throws a party and everything that could go wrong goes wrong. And God walks in.

Tom: To Phil smugly I see you are humouring the deity this evening Phil.

Phil: So you don't believe?

Tom: I do believe in God. I don't believe that that is him. I know God and his will: you know I am one of the faithful, one of his flock. I understand the heart and mind of God. I hate to say it Phil. But I am closer to God, more than any of you.

Jen: I don't believe it's him either. But let's have fun with him.

Phil Hangs his head as his friends walk past him. He turns around to find that the rest of the party members have gathered around God

Dr. Segal: Those are some hefty bags under your eyes, old timer. Drop by my clinic and I could help you out with those.

Martha hands God a snifter of scotch

Zoe: Like, where do you stand on abortion?

Corina: Can you make me Prettier?

Rhon: When I look into the night sky I can only see so far, right? I want to know what the edge of the universe looks like.

Everyone is there surrounding God

Liz: Where is the most beautiful place on Earth?

Phil: Once we have figured out DNA what will we know?

Jen: To Phil Why would he care about that?

Tom: To Jen Why would he not?

Jen: Where do you even come up with such dumb things to say?

Tom: Oh-for-crying-out-loud Jen! Why can't you just agree on one thing for once?

Jen: You always say that! I have my own thoughts, I don't like when you say I argue. Last time you did that I washed your shirt and nothing is ever good enough for you.

Tom: What the hell are you talking about? They both walk of arguing getting softer as they walk away. Improve argument from here. Everyone turns back to God to ask more questions. But not loud. Silent but dramatic actions. Music louder like a Montague

Tammy softly speaks as music drops almost shy like

Tammy: What is luck?

The party slips into slow motion but for God and Phil

God: Looking mournfully towards Phil You know Phil, You weren't selected at random. Your house was chosen. Wilfully selected. Let me tell you why I am here, Phil. Going into salesman mode People have managed to get the wrong idea about me Phil. My message has been bastardized to the point where I cannot tell what these people are talking about anymore. You have all made it more difficult than it needs to be. They've taken my words and ruined them. Changed them. Switched them up and spat them back out in odd formations to feed their own ego's. Someone should just ask me what I am talking about. Not these single little questions. These insignificant whims. Ask me what it is I mean by it all.

Phil: God, What are you talking about?

God: Ask me what it all means. What this world is all about.

Phil: What's it all about God?

God: Beats me. Giggles

Rest of the party snaps back out of slow motion and God and Phil are in there original places

Tammy: Why were all my loved ones taken from me so early on in life?

Jen comes back as Thom pouts in the corner by the food. She interrupts pushes her way in, then Thom follows back with a frown on his face

Jen: Is true love a reality? Or some sort of chemical bullshit?

Tom: Why are you asking this guy anything? He's not God!

Jen: How do you even know? Well? How could you know? It might be possible!

Tom: I, I, well I'd just know. I mean God doesn't come and start nattering to people in their living rooms, some night. Does he!

Martha: He could.

Liz: Is music truly the greatest divine blessing?

Rhon: okay, so what I find hard to swallow, is what religion is selling. It seems flawed, in a way that is beyond explanation. Hypocritical, controlling, and self-centred. I think that is the problem. Self-centred. Seriously though, I use to look up into the nights sky when I was a kid and wonder what was up there, all night long, watching the stars move and the clouds and the moon. Then one day I found out that it was us that was moving and not the stars. Or that the stars had already moved and what I was seeing was not even there anymore. They were just what was left of what was once there. Like that flicker when you turn off a TV at night. And seriously listen I couldn't go to church any more. I mean, If I can stare at something with my own eyes like that, something that doesn't even exist anymore, and the lights are beautiful. The earth moves on its own accord, and all this, all this stuff was actually created by something. I was damned certain that it, whatever it was that created all of this, was not going to care whether or not I stuffed myself into a little blue suit every Sunday morning and sang songs about how much I loved him. And how much I praised him. Come on wasn't Sunday supposed to be a day off anyway?

Everyone stops and looks at Rhon rant. For a moment when he's done silence. Then in unison to God

Everyone: Aren't you going to give us any answers?

God looks tired, settles down in a seat. Martha grabs a drink and brings it to God and a small plate of pigs in a blanket. He smiles at her and sips his scotch and closes his eyes to enjoy it

Martha: Let's all leave him alone for a moment, give him some space you guys.

Cast but Phil walks back to the food table talking to themselves

God: He makes me sound like I've been neutered or something.

Phil: We are not supposed to know the face of god, Or so we have been told.

God: Not supposed to know? Who decided this? Shaking his head at the statement

Phil: Only his work.

God: My work. Hmm. But not me. The product but not the inventor.

Phil: But are we to thank you?

God: Thank me? For what? For what I have done for you? But not know who or what you are thanking?

Phil: Does it sound odd?

God: A little. Might I have a moment alone?

Phil: Certainly.

Phil walks over to where Tom is standing, Jen Kissing Thom Passionately, God looks likes talking to someone, then sips his drink quietly. As Thom Phil is there and pushes Jen of of him

Phil: Tom, you don't believe that God is right there do you.

Tom: Oh he's here. He resides in our churches and cathedrals and in our hearts. He's all around us. Watching, judging every moment of our existence.

Phil: So, you don't believe that he could come to earth and talk to us?

Tom: If he did, who would believe him? Unless he turned the sky into fire, and the world to salt. He would show the power of who he is.

Jen: Yea right, he's right!

Stage Darkens, spotlight on Phil. Who walks to the front of the stage. Rhon walks over to God. And you can see them starting a deep debate. Can only see actions no words

Phil: Well, I do. We've made him human. Sometimes some of us; If we care at all to look outside of ourselves for answers. But then, most of us are too busy for that anyway. Doesn't it seem that the stranger things get the more willing we are to accept them? The tabloids draw our eyes their stands at the grocery stores. Tweets build fear. Facebook isolates us. We don't know how to be friends anymore. The news that people have won millions in a lottery, keeping us buying and wanting and hoping that in someway or some how our number will come up and we will finally win. We have lost faith in anything tangible. And as we lose faith we begin believing more and more in things, like televangelists, products that will make us beautiful. People that lie to us and we want them too. Trying to be perfect trying each to be a God in our own right, hoping one more person will push the like button to make us closer to perfection. We have created a God so far from who he is here in my living room, that we can't even see who he is now. Or understand. No one has direct recourse to the Lord.

Lights come back on and Rhon Is beside God. Phil walks over in mid-conversation.

Rhon: So, you see what I mean? No, no seriously, if we live in a multi-dimensional universe. The introduction of infinity proves that a God could not exist in this wider sense of multiple infinitives of north, east, west, south, up and down. Time, God. Time could not exist if God does. What we have is a world within which we are attempting to link existing things, things we can touch and see. Like this glass of wine. Holds up glass of wine Like wise cannot see, like time, or infinity, or God. And that makes sense. Doesn't it?

God: You cannot multiply infinity times infinity, then interject variables with an earthly construct. Quantifying the equation and expect there to be a big equal sign n the end. Counting things out on his fingers

Phil: So then we made God. We made God for the answer to these questions?

God: Yes, that is entirely possible. The world spinning in infinity without a leader, without a God. So, there is no God. No, wait a moment... There is Dammit you guys, I'm God.

Phil, and Rhon Snicker At God for a moment Tom walks over near the end of god speaking

Tom: Extending his hand Right then, God I'm Moses. Would love to talk to you a little longer but there's Sea somewhere that needs to be parted. Tom walks off laughing

Phil: You could have said something.

God: I don't bother with his type. He has his own perception of who I am, what I do. I could do anything I wish to him, but he's still going to be looking for a bloody tear to come off of some manikins face or a bush to spontaneously combust. It's easier to let him live his life. Let him live simply. Than show him the truth of who I am. Like I said before the message has been lost in time. The ultimate telephone game.

Phil: So the faithful are wrong?

God: Hand to chin No, not wrong. But blind faith in anything will get you killed.

End of Act I

Act II

TV is on. Rhon Flicks remote begins to press buttons. God remains sitting munching on pigs on a blanket and sipping on his drink

TV: In Syria today, UN troops are gaining access to previously un... On highway 7 today at 2:00am just east of Peterborough, Five teens driving what is believed in excessive speed crashed into a tree. Alcohol may have been a factor. All Five teens... For only $29.99 plus shipping and handling. That's right Greg, we pay the shipping and handling this time. What Fran We do?... It's generally our notion that, upon discovering his men bogged down in heavy snow of a Russian winter. Napoleon chose, against the wishes of his commanding officers and advisors, to continue on, but what was he expecting to find in Russia that... Show me the way to go home, everybody now, I'm tired and wanna go to bed.

Phil: Hey Rhon turn up the music, turn that thing down. More party man.

Martha while walking across the room, takes the remote from Rhon and places it back on the TV, music plays softly in the background

Martha: What is it I have to do to live a good life? Sorry to bother you, I really am, but I have been asking myself this question for so long now and I need to know the answer.

God: Slow, steady, psychiatrists voice Need. Need as a word, if I am correct, normally signals something which, were one to not receive it, one might very well die? Well, will you die if you do not receive an answer, Martha?

Martha: Looking at the couch, running her finger up and down the seam of the arm rest I suppose not. But will I be allowed into heaven?

Phil: Wanders over and sits beside Martha Yes, is there a heaven? I've always wondered that myself.

God: Well, a while ago I rented this warehouse location on Roosevelt Island and now we get those souls packed in there nice and tight.

Martha: What!?!

God: Giggling No, Martha I'm kidding. I'll have to leave that up to your imagination. But yes to live a good life Martha. I will tell you a secret Motions for her to come closer Rubber bands. You must collect more rubber bands.

Martha nods her head and stands, when she passes the TV, there is an elastic on it and she takes it

God: Turns to Phil I've realized over time I'm not that good with people, Phil. I often forget how ridiculously low their sense of humour is.

Dr. Segal: At the kitchen Table But Club Monaco is the new big thing. Those Tight little tops that show off the ladies belly-rings. And the skin. Short, short, short. Legs, legs legs.

Zoe: Club Monaco? Like, whatever. I spend, like a thousand on a shirt I can wear it like forever. Club Monaco cost like Fifty bucks.

Dr. Segal: You could wear it forever? But do you?

Zoe: Guuuroossss, NEVER!

Dr. Segal: Nothing I like more than a woman in a tight sweater. Takes Corina's hand and smiles I really do appreciate the subtlety of a woman. I know that sounds hypocritical being a surgeon in the art of plastic. But to me seeing a beautiful angel filling a sweater, where a lot is left to the imagination...mmm...mmm

Corina: Sweaters! But they hide so much. They're so, regular. I mean, Like, I mean. They hide everything.

Dr. Segal: And there is beauty in that, isn't there? In the unknown about another person?

Zoe: No, there isn't. We should be able to judge people without talking to them.

Jen: Well, maybe if boobs are all you have then...

Zoe: Take that back! Waving her finger at Jen

Jen: Why do you immediately assume I am talking about you?

Zoe: Take it back! Jen: Well, it's true.

Zoe: You don't mean it. Take it back!

Jen: I do, and I won't!

Zoe: Why do you have to be such a bitch?

Jen: I just say what I know.

Zoe: Well maybe you should, like, think about keeping some of these things to yourself, do you know what I mean?

Jen: Honesty is a virtue. Right God? Looks across the room at God

Spot light falls on God, the rest of the room slips into slow-motion. God speaks to the audience

God: Petty disputes. What makes them think that I can solve their Problems? Who was it that said, all of your dealings with one another, your financial troubles, your social concerns, your love and loss of love take them to god. Send them my way. I can fix it. In the dead of night when you have just hung up the phone with the only person you ever believed you would be able to love. Who has just told you that you unfortunately are not the one for them. Well, yell to good old God. Tell him your troubles. You've driven your car into a wall because your high. Lying there in your own stupid pool of blood and cry out to God. Maybe God can turn back time, you'll think, maybe God is the answer here. Then while you're laying a hospital room, contemplating how ephemeral it all is, how absolutely tragic the world is. How horrible you have been treated, you will say, Why, God, why have you forsaken me? And I will tell you why. Because, dumb-ass you did it yourself. It was was your choice to smoke that joint and text. Not mine. And that person that convinces you to buy Bitcoin but at the last moment you bail.

God: They become rich and you don't. You can't blame them for your lack of courage. You wanting to play it safe. You make choices that dictate your future everyday. I'm not saying hardship won't happen for no reason now and then. Sure born into the wrong part of the world what choice do you have. But definitely you have a choice here. You already won the golden ring. You by being here in this moment of time in this place have won the lottery of life. Every opportunity is given to you. I look out for the ones that need it, the little people. Putting little angels on their shoulder... But these people are beyond my jurisdiction. They've made their own rules and now must live by them. Sorry to say.

Stage lights back up

Jen: I'm not saying that you are a bad person, Zoe. Just self-centred and.

Zoe: What? Self-centred and What? If you are having about of honesty here and all.

Tom: Simple.

Phil: Please stop it you guys.

Zoe: Simple! Simple! What do you mean by that?

Jen: Maybe more ignorant than simple, actually. I'd say. But that is not a bad thing. You just decided to live your life a different way. Different things are important to you.

Phil: No really guys please, my party come on don't be mean to each other. We can work this out.

Zoe: Pfff, like okay. What. The. Hell.

Dr. Segal: Laughing All I was saying is that I like a woman in a sweater. But if we're going to be talking like this well Jen, I mean, really, Pot, Kettle, Black. Hahaha

Zoe: Oh shut up you, you, you pimp.

Dr. Segal: Whooaa Hahaha. Pimp? Hahahah, let me explain to you what pimp is.

Zoe: Like, I know what a pimp is. And. And. Why are you all being so mean to me? Starts to cry

Jen: To Dr. Segal as she puts her hand on Zoe shoulder to support her What do you know about or anything you glorified sculptor!

Dr. Segal: I'll take that as a compliment. Hahaha

Zoe: What did I do wrong?

Jen: What is it that I said so wrong? Or awful? It's just the truth.

Tom: I wish this never started. Why can't you just keep your mouth shut? Why do you have to fight with everyone at every moment?

Phil: Guys, guys, my party remember?

Corina: I think my left Boob is bigger than the right one. Can anyone see this?

Rhon: Why can't we just get along people. It's the differences that separate us and we have to start finding common ground here. Common you guys.

Tom: That kind of attitude will get you beat up these days. Hahahaha

Dr. Segal: Softly There's more to life than looks.

Jen: And you would know.

Tom and Phil both start laughing

Liz: Guys what's going on?

Tom And Phil Still laughing

Jen, Zoe: what you you laughing at?

In the background Tammy is eating her Crab dip, standing alone. No one else is there after eating it she sits. She waves for help but no one notices. Then leans back and dies with her eyes open. Everyone is focused on Phil who is awkwardly laughing.

Phil: Ha, Ha, So here's a good one. This guy, he decides to have this party and, Hahaha, makes everything perfect for everyone. For his friends and then, ohh, here's a good one. The Lord almighty shows up and. Hahaha his friends start to fight with one another and Hahahaha, toss some drinks around and insult one another and then, hahahahaha.

Dr. Segal looks over at Tammy where she is slumped over eyes open, as Phil has his break down. He walks over puts his ear to her mouth and listens for a moment. Picks up her arm and checks for a pulse. Stage goes dark and the spotlight focuses on God. God put his drink down and shakes his head

God: This isn't going to be pretty. Lights come up full on the stage

Dr. Segal: Tammy's dead! He shouts out to everyone.

Everyone: Dead?

Dr. Segal: Dead!

Everyone: Dead?

Dr. Segal: Dead!

Phil: How?

Dr. Segal: Dead!

Rhon: No, How?

Dr. Segal: Shrugs his shoulders Might have been something she ate.

Zoe: I told her to go on a diet!

Everyone glares at her still in shock.

Phil: And then, here's the punch line. I mean get this one, It's better than three guys walk-into a bar. A priest, a mime and a drunk Irish man. Or the one about guy and his neighbour wife? Which is a good one. A real good one. This one is better. This guy, see, he throws a party and wants everything to be perfect. But then God shows up and his friends fight and argue. And then, here it is, here's the big one, the clincher. The old whoompa! One of his guests Dies. DIES hahahahahahah

God: As he eats the crab dip and other things It was the crab Dip. I guess I could have mentioned that but then I got this scotch and got into these conversations and then the ladies here started fighting with one another.

Rhon: You couldn't have mentioned this? I mean really God. Come on.

Phil: I let you into my house. For the party.

Zoe: She was my friend.

Tom: I can still remember our night together. Walks over to Tammy strokes her hair

Dr. Segal: No leave her be.

Everyone sits down at the table then ignores that Tammy in dead. Someone pushes the Crab dip to the end of the table. The stages darkens slightly Music in the background. Death walks in touches Tammy on the arm and she pops up fully animated, Stands and tests out here new body. She seems stronger, more confident, both move to the back of the table and seem in a good happy conversation

Jen: Wait! What night with her? Thom? I introduced you to her. So if you did anything with her I'll Frig'in lose it I swear to God!

God Perks up and looks at them points to himself questioningly

Tom: Aww, Tammy. I feel so betrayed. Jen How could you think this?

Zoe: Like, Serves you right.

Tom: Oh shut it Zoe!

Phil: My party.

Rhon: You couldn't have mentioned this? You're God for Christ sake. You didn't get around to mentioning that the Crab dip was going to kill our friend?

God: Well, I knew the possibility was there that it could maybe, kill her. But things can always go one of two ways.

Zoe: Like, whatever. IF you're God, I'm Marilyn Monroe.

Tom: And I'm Moses.

Jen: And I'm Princess Di.

Zoe: That's pretty Tasteless.

Jen: What do you know about taste?

Tom: Name one Tchaikovsky Symphony.

Zoe: Who? Me or her?

Tom: Either of you. And at the same time points to God Prove you are who you say you are. Prove you're God. Let's get it all figured out here. All the cards on the table.

Phil: No, no, please don't make him prove anything. The elephant and the destry what's left of my party. And. Oh, please just don't make him prove anything.

With a big pause, everyone's attention is focused on God he sighs and gets ready to speak

God: This girl has an unlucky life and I get the blame when she dies? I didn't make the dip. I didn't make the crab dip with old eggs and old crabs. I didn't take it from the plate and stick it in Tammy's mouth. But I get the blame? See that's what I have been talking about. You all think that I have something to do with this.

Tom: Well, you do have the ultimate control over everything. Right? That's the deal. Your job description. Right? Or will you just admit now you aren't God.

Phil: Gone, deceased, dead hands flutter in the shape of a bird. Taking off above his head an at my party. The party I have been planning for over two weeks.

Rhon: Oh sweet-Jesus-tap-dancing-Christ Phil. Shut up about the damn party. We get it, we know, but right now things have gone a little sideways here and we have bigger things to think about that that right now.

God: There. There is my flaw. Snaps his fingers and points My cosmic joke, my point of break or my cracked vase. You little buggers can only think yourself. Yourself and how you can be better than one another. But, in the end, just yourself. Yourself first and last. Start, middle and end, me, me, me. Do you know how I got here today? I took the subway. While I was standing there on the platform, a woman named Patricia Barker, was severely depressed. Believing the world was to much for her. She was so desperate, to much pain to speak of. Decided to remove her and her child from it. The world that is. Remove herself completely. By jumping , child in arms, in front of a oncoming subway. I was the blind black beggar at the station. You want me to help? Well it's not my job!

Martha: That's awful.

God smiles sadly at Martha

God: But this woman beside me, Three piece suit, a couple grand worth of jewellery, late for a business meeting as it was. She began to complain. Complain that she was going to be even later for this meeting. Huffing and puffing. That it would change her world. That it would make more and more money. “Screw this stupid woman, who is dressed like a street person.” She said aloud. Decides to jump in front of a train, I mean come on people, you want to know everything in the world there is to know? Life on mars, eternal happiness, the perfect orgasm, long life and maybe inner peace? Well, compassion is a good start. Compassion and empathy is a damn fine start actually.

Phil: And then my guests piss off God.

Death makes her way to Tammy stands beside her and Tammy instantly comes to life. they talk but know one notices as all focus is on God. Death waves hello to God, God nodded in acknowledgement

Liz: God: are you okay?

God: Runs his hands over his face I'm sorry. You are no more to blame than anyone else. But you must understand that it is all about free will. And that is going to shock you all. I mean, especially Tom there who actually believes in me.

Tom: Looking sheepish and acting defensive I believe in God, and there's nothing wrong with that. But you my friend are not HIM!

God: You are a rarity these days. But no one really has it wrong. Well, except for the Scientologist. They are way out in left field. Anyway I created the earth, and it was good. I created the plants, the sea, the sky, it was all good. Good. Put animals in the mix nice batch of insects all life. Then I got tired or maybe bored I can't remember. So I set the program in motion, a basic free will if you like. It was good. I went away for awhile and I came back and what do I see. It was no longer good. Yu'all screwed it it up. Yu'all forgot a few things changed a few things. But yu'all had yer purposes to fulfill. And and yu'all don't like it. Then you have someone like Tammy here who, tonight, has fulfilled her duties. Who's free-will has brought her to this. And this.

Lights focus on Death and Tammy

Phil: Who is this?

God: Death.

Rhon: This old lady is Death?

Death blows her nose and fixes her glasses and smiles a big smile Tammy Appears beside Death. The rest of the cast realize shes alive and standing

Rhon: Oh my God, It's Tammy!

The rest are shocked

Liz: Tammy I thought you died?

Tammy: I think I did.

Phil: Wait I thought she died!

Tom: I told you she wasn't dead.

Corina: Tammy Come here, with us.

Death: No folks we need her with us.

Phil: Then Death shows up. What a party!

God: Yes, Gladice here is Death and she does a damn fine job of it to. Don't you Gladice. He raises his glass to Death

Death: I try.

God: You've been with me for what? Two, three generations?

Death: Going on four, God.

God: Elected by a body of her peers each time. And she still loves the lot of you.

Death: I do, I truly do.

God: With birth out of the way, and Death taking care of business. I have so much time on my hands. Thank you Gladice.

Death: No Thank you God.

Dr. Segal: Sounds reasonable to me.

Rhon: But can't you stop Death?

God: Sure, why not. Throw a stick in the spokes of history. Why not? But it's none of my business, now is it.

Rhon: What if we found a good reason?

God: Ahh a salesman. Great, perfect. Hit me with your best pitch, Mr. Lowman.

Rhon: Can I discuss this with my friends?

God: Certainly, By all means, take your time.

God rises from his seat with a grunt and joins Death and Tammy behind the table. The rest go join Phil on the couch

Rhon: What are we going to say?

Liz: Tell him Tammy's life was horrible and that she deserves a break.

Jen: Tell him that we could trade some of Corina's hair for Tammy. Or a leg. What are your legs insured for now Corina? Three, four hundred thousand.

Corina: Like shut up!

Rhon: Or maybe we could just bribe death?

Dr. Segal: Cheat him, lie to him, bribe him. Sure, what the hell, hahaha. The whole shebang. Bring her to her knees in negotiation. Tie her up in litigation. Appeal her rulings then jump bail with our Tammy in hand. Hahahah.

Liz, Rhon, Zoe Tom: Shut up Segal.

Jen: To Tom You shut up.

Tom: To Jen No you shut up.

Jen: Why do I hate you so much?

Tom: Talking through clenched teeth Why must I talk through clenched teeth whenever I talk to you?

Jen: Why...

Tom: If only...

The two of them lean into one another and start kissing

Phil: Two weeks. Two weeks I planned...

Liz: This is never going to work.

Rhon: We will have to make this work, figure out some loophole never thought of.

The group come together heads close like they are making plans hands waving and pointing. Death, God and Tammy seem to be in a deep conversation as well. Pointing to the other group. Lights start to fade as music plays up.

End Of Act II

Act III

On one side of the table is God, Tammy and death. God and death standing on either side of Tammy who is sitting in the middle seat.. On the other side Tom, Phil, Liz, Rhon and Corina standing. Jen and Tom have moved to the couch and pawing each other. The TV playing old family 8mm home movies in silent mode.

God: I see you have a couple of non-players on your side. Gestures at Jen and Tom Never-the-less, we should do this properly. Everyone, this is Death, Gladice. God points as he introduces each one to Death. This is Rhon, Liz, Zoe, and Corina, Phil and Martha. Oh of course you, know Dr. Segal.

Dr. Segal moves across stage towards Death. He sticks his hand out to shake her hand then pulls it away

Death: Yes, Dr. Segal, I know your work well. Rhon, a Lovely boy, Liz. Liz there are some pianos in the great beyond that you will simply love.

Tammy: To Liz Sorry I didn't get to talk to you tonight, but that CD you loaned me is on the cabinet by my bed. You can get it back whenever...

Liz: Aren't you scared?

Zoe: Like of course she's scared. I mean, She's like dead.

Corina: I'm not sure I understand all this.

Dr. Segal: You don't have too, dear.

Tammy: Actually, I'm not scared. Death told me about where I am going and everything and it sounds nice. And I did put on clean underwear today so we can take the express route. Anyway, I had a huge Visa Bill. Hehe. So all is good.

Dr. Segal: Hahahaha Good one.

Rhon: Coughs into his hand Ummmm.

God: Yes, yes, our salesman. Gladice, these young people would like to discuss the removal of their friend from this earthly plane. If that would be ok with you.

Death: Checking her wrist watch We really haven't the time. I wish we did.

Liz: Yelling I don't think its fair you are taking Tammy.

Zoe: Yeah, Like her life sucked and you're, like taking it away from her early and it's wrong.

Dr. Segal: Well spoken.

Zoe: Go to hell.

Corina: Maybe I could do work or something.

Death: Now, now, my children.

Rhon: Okay. Let's take this back one step. Calmly, Calmly. Tammy is our life long friend, ok? Everyone nods. And she has had a pretty horrible life. If something could go wrong it would. By far the most unluckiest person I have ever known. It was like watching someone being tortured slowly. There has to be a better way to do this this ending I mean.

Tammy: Well, it did have its moments.

Rhon: But it wasn't that great. I mean, your parents, your living conditions, your poor, poor luck.

Tammy: You make it sound like I should be happy to be dead.

God beams a big smile

God: You're losing your defendant.

Rhon: Tammy I don't mean it the way you think. What I mean is you deserve to have a little luck fall your way. A chance to turn it around a second chance. And bottom line Tammy we want you with us.

Tammy: I kind of like this dead thing. It's tingly.

Rhon: Tingly?

Phil: Why did she have to die at my party though?

Death: It's that easy isn't it? Someone snaps their fingers and someone is dead. There is no research in this no analysis. My team of professionals...

Phil: Phhhhh

Death: Who work very hard.

Phil: Phhhhhhh

Death: Very hard to get everything organized. Okay what is it Phil? Is there something you would like to tell us? What is it?

Phil: Absurd!

Death: Absurd?

Phil: Does no one else find this absurd?

Death: There is nothing absurd about this, young man. This is a very serious business. Where is he going?

Phil moves away towards the TV and just stares at it.

Tammy: Listen you guys, I don't know why this happened, well I do it was the Crab, but what I mean is this is bigger than me. More important than all of us. I feel like This means something and what I thought was bad luck or sadness or even loneliness, was teaching me something that I needed to learn. I may not understand all the nuances but I feel like for the first time. What I do matters. If you think about it, I will get to see my mom and dad, right Gladice? Gladice Nods her head yes and to me that's a greater gift than anything I have here right now at this time.

God: Okay folks, time to jump in for a bit here. What I want to mention is that what you are forgetting is that Tammy does not have a choice. Her life was designed this way for a purpose. It was all to teach her for the moments to come. She was being trained to take over for Death. In time she will have the compassion and the grace to help people cross over. Her training started before she was born. Everything she needed to be was planned out every second in time. Tammy nods like she understands and accepts this idea with a smile.

Rhon: What about free-will. You were pretty hip on that before.

God: It's all part of a system. Systems do not change at the drop of a hat. Everything has a function to the overall purpose.

Dr. Segal: Devil's advocate here for a second. You tell us all about you, the almighty, your work. Ect, ect. Then you introduce us to you organizational skills. Aka this free-will deal. What, in effect, is a program set in motion to do your work for you while you were elsewhere. Taking a nap and such. Correct? Right, then you introduce us to Gladice who you inform us, is part of a system as well. You can't believe in two systems of thought. You either believe in free-will or fate. Both can't exist. And, whoa is it just me or are there some things here that no longer make any sense?

God: This is getting out of hand. I know I made the rules, but I made them a long time ago and now I cannot recall the sensibility behind them all right now. Searching his pockets

Rhon: You're contradicting yourself now.

Dr. Segal: Now I was never a lawyer but I did go out for Law school before I became a doctor and I must say that...

God: Giving a stern look finger up Tammy serves a better purpose dead than alive.

Dr. Segal, Rhon, Liz, Zoe, Corina, Thom, all at once, after a slight pause, say But, Then fire questions fast then they pair of slowly mock talking to each other

Rhon: An infinite universe. Indeed, But what if is flat? And what if something created it which we can't even fathom. Something outside of cumulative reality than the God we know? Of even stranger what if we are just senescence stuck on an event horizon. On the edge of a Black hole? Existing only for a nano-second, but time being relative we exist for trillions of years before our reality is destroyed by another dimension. An mathematical nominally. Mistake by happenstance.

Steps aside

Liz: There is so much beauty in the world. But there is so much hatred and violence. How can I believe or not believe?

Zoe: Do we need to know?

Corina: If there is a god, and I’m a saying if, what will it think of us? We inject plastics into ourselves, we pierce our bodies and we plaster them with ink. We shave off bits here, suck out fat there. We don't consider ourselves or others in eight out of ten actions. Or we don't care. I can't believe because too many of us don't seem to care.

Tom: From the couch, unattached himself from Jen For the moment my belief is strong.

Jen: My will is strong.

Phil: I believe. How could I not. But it's like my party. God created this thing, this world, these existences, and then everyone ruined it on him.

God: Stop! Silence!

Lights strumming in the background all actors go to speak but find they cannot, they open and close their mouths like fish on land, god does circles at the centre of the stage like he's in deep thought and concern

God: I came here with the idea of teaching, showing people the problems which exist and possible solutions. And, again, to prove some things to myself. I mean, I had that Job fellow awhile ago, but what did that prove? You need to keep testing and testing and testing till you find a weak spot. The spots where the light gets in and you patch them up. You make them stronger. You make them better. Thicker, Darker, more resilient. But I wasn't expecting all these questions. Or all these people with all these problems. All self-centred, petty little people have confused me. I mean, what am I supposed to do with them? What am I supposed to say? What am I supposed to say?

Lights have a soft dim not full, spot light on God, he walks to the front of the stage puts his hands to cover his eyebrows to look out to the audience, to stop the glare.

God: Rhon, Rhon Grenon. Are you out there?

Out in the audience is the director of the play Rhon Grenon. On each side of hims is an AD cute with pens in her hair and a clipboard. On the other is a model like woman Possible Girlfriend. Super classy, snobbish air about her.

Rhon: Right here God.

Rhon the actor on the stage pipes up and God turns around to answer him then turns back into the light searching the audience.

God: Not you, you fool. You're not even real.

Phil: What does he mean you're not real? You've come here and really ruined my party. You've drank my wine, filled yourself with my Doritos.

Rhon: Yeah, I ate his Doritos. I'm real.

God: SHHHH! None of you are real. Rhon I know you're out there!

Rhon G: Yes God what's up? Stands up

God: What is going on here Rhon? Apparently I am God And have ultimate control over the universe. Right? I don't get it, where were you going with this?

Rhon G: I was trying to show ideals and obedience with conformity and such do not necessary guarantee a good life. Or a good afterlife, whatever the case may be.

Rhon: Who are you?

All the cast walks to the front of the stage, stay in character, they stand beside God. Do what you thin your character would do but silently

Rhon G: I'm you but real. Look forget it.

Rhon: He's telling me to forget it. Gestures to the other actors Forget it, he's me, But real. No problem, right, Rhon No problem.

Rhon G and God: Please be quiet. Timing Is very important here they must say it together perfectly

God: Rhon, what are you going to do about this play? It has seemed that it has spiralled out of control.

Rhon G: Well, I had a god handle on what was going on until people started shouting at one another. But that was all planned, in away, as it was, but now…

Jen removers herself from Tom walks to the forefront to face Rhon G.

Jen: So, You're God? This is our friend Rhon, And this guy here points to the Rhon G is the real Rhon who created us all and, of course, we are all just characters in a play? Well, then none of this would matter... That's it I'm leaving, are you coming Tom.

Tom: I, I don't think so Jen. No, Not this time.

Jen: Looking angry Fine! Have it your way. I'm sick of you and this dumb group anyway. And just so you know I'm glad this is over. I wanted to end it a long time ago Tom. So screw you!

Jen runs to the front of the stage jumps of and storms of through the audience and out the back door

Rhon G: Calm down everyone. It's okay. She can go. I wrote that scene in to get her to leave. I wasn't a big fan of her character anyway. I think I wrote her to pushy. That's why she gets hit by a car now.

From the back of the theatre doors open, you hear the long screeching of tires and a hard body thump. Hit by car, Out back have a team of make -up artist ready to bandage her hun give her bruising and deep wounds.

Tom: WHAT?? NOOO, NOT JEN!! Runs after her in hysterical After Tom leaves out the back

Rhon G: See, now he's all distraught and horrified. Now he has real emotions. Now he feels.

God: Is that what this is all about then?

Zoe: Okay. Like, what was that? I'm bored and confused and freaked right out and I have things to do tomorrow, I wanna leave too.

Rhon G: No, Zoe you still have a love interest. And what is this all about? This is all about Said quickly The conceptual reality within the confines of a subversive universe, will only express the complex level of benevolence that a higher manifestation of God Transfers. But we colour our realities in deep conjecture of patronizing subtle passions. I created you, God, with a reality which transgresses all boundaries. There is no logical process or grounds of functionality that readies the mind in a state of perpetual grandeur. With willingness to explore we touch the spiritual bond of life and we express as well as experience the differences that enumerate the belief of something bigger than we are.

God: Uh-huh.

Pause

Zoe: Like really, A love interest? For real? Okay I'll stay.

She sits on the edge of the stage looks out pick a cute none actor in audience and flirt with the person. Try to convince him/ her to come and chat and eventually on stage. At this point the food crew will start to move food in slowly and quietly on the side of the audience

Rhon: It wouldn't actually be for real though would it? If we are just actors and all in a play?

Rhon G: Don't get bitter now Rhon, whos to say what is real and what instinct. How do you know if I'm just and actor playing a part in a bigger play or reality. It could be endless.

Rhon: I have my own mind. I am real.

Rhon G: I can prove you're not.

God: Here we go.

Rhon: Okay, Go ahead.

Rhon G: Think of a Number between zero and one hundred.

Rhon: Okay got it.

Rhon G: Forty-two

Rhon: Uh-uh... No. uh.

Rhon G: Yes it was.

Rhon: Clenching his teeth as he says it Fine it was!

Rhon G: Go sit down big boy.

Rhon G and Rhon Sit down at the same time in the same pose.

Rhon G: Carry on with the play now. We'll talk , After the show.

*** Ref. 58 PG

God: Wait. So if you created me then I am not god?

Rhon G: That's not true at all. God is the ultimate power in the universe according to some. I can't Create God. Only God Can create God if God even exists. Which I can't prove... or disprove. I just wanted to challenge people's thinking. That's all. People are so damn set in there ways sometimes. I mean, don't people want to see different things? Different views? Visit a concept they never experienced before? Life is about experience and all the times we can see things differently, added to a whole of who we become.

Zoe should at this point should have dragged someone up to stage to come and get food. Other audience plants should be making there way up trying to bring someone with them

God: So I am God.

Rhon G: Yes

Phil: I want you to know mister, whoever you are. Pointing to Rhon G in the audience That I know who I am and I am not a character in a play. I am a man who spent a great deal of time putting together a party which has been, for all intensive purposes. The cast Laughs at him I have parents and a pet, and a woman here who... more laughter What are you guys laughing at?

Rhon G: Look Phil. None of this, is in the play. Now I put a lot of time into this play and would really appreciate it if you would, you know, follow the script.

Phil Stares out into the audience. The light goes to his eyes as god turns back to the party. Phil stares for a moment then turns around and sits back down at the table. With his head in his hands he yells

Phil: LINE!

Guy with a cue-card steps out from the side and shows it to Phil so the audience can see it

Cue-card guy: So you are the creator of the universe then. And this is all a joke.

Phil: In a tired and defeated voice So you are the creator of the universe, God. And all this is an elaborate joke and laughs hard and long But me, I've been planning this party for weeks now and nobody seems to care.

God: No Phil It's all real. You've done a great job. But I think that maybe this is what I've worried about all this time. I guess the world is doing ok and As the side tables of food and drink get placed food crew get slightly louder, not as careful. Talking saying is it ready improve at this point. Ask people closest if they want a drink or a bit to come and get it. Actors on stage will have to compensate at this point that people do look out for one another every so often and that in the long run will all do fine. Right Rhon?

Rhon: What's this God?

God: Not you. Quiet voice Rhon. Rhon Grenon. I'm a little worried. I'm a little scared how does this all end?

Silence from the audience

God: Softly Mr. G? How does this all end? The party.

Rhon G: Louder God, we can't hear you!

God: How does this all end?

God pauses no one says anything, makes his way slowly with Tammy and Death. They all leave out the front door

Phil: What was that?

Rhon: Huh?

Liz: Where were we?

Zoe: What was that?

Dr. Segal: We have just witnessed something miraculous.

Rhon: What was it?

Liz: Yes, what ?

Phil: It's a pretty good party, isn't it?

Rhon: I've had a blast.

Liz: Are we purposefully not talking about God being here?

Phil: Who?

Rhon: Who?

Zoe: Who?

Dr. Segal: Who?

Liz: Okay. Who?

Phil: Much better. Welcome to my party. There are more people to come, I welcome you all with open arms. I think. We'll just wait and see what happens next.

Party Continues this will grow from page 58 any free hands will join on stage at this point and help pull friends and family up or to tables on the side lights will finally rise full in the audience. But will happen slowly from page 58. so subtle you cant notice it should take about 7 minutes till full. All Chartres even ones that left will come back and join in the fun. Make small talk, engage people full talking now, normal voice. Some will dance and lots of laughter. Create a real party. The goal is to make an amazing transition into real life., the goal is to have no one clap no ending to the play. All behind the scene crews will join now eat, talk about the play enjoy the success of what has happened and let go of the reality that has been created. If we do this right we will blur the lines and will give the audience an experience of a lifetime. Thank you for all your hard work and bask in the wonderful thing you have created

One last thing as the music plays God will read “New.” As long as he wants. A key style writing that challenges the way you think. Join the party when the timing is right for you

God: It isn't love, but it is better than nothing. As monsters run wild inside of me. I can feel your soul. But the question is. If dimensional shifts are a real construct of a multi-verse, and all possibilities are real. Then it lends itself not only to experience all aspects of love and loss. But as prophets say, to be everyone in every situation and experience all realities. Maybe the true nature of love is the sadness of what we already know to be true. And that is to hold on to hope. That in this moment of fleeting desire we seek it to be different than all realities that we have witnessed before. Or maybe it's just dumb luck, and being stupid with the choices we make that end up breaking the continuity necessary to find that one willing to work as hard as you do to make love last...

Is that the meaning of existence?

Do you think I can see your soul?

Do we choose what to forget?

Are you the answer to the question I have asked all my life?

Forgotten along the way no place is safe for us to lay our weary head. Two hearts beating. Is this all we know? I tell you now we are not ready for the truth. As far as I can tell we hide from what is offered all around us. Every part of the world is angry at what is to come. But high with our heads in the sand as a fee is paid to crazy... Raise the Goddamn alarm, both middle fingers raising to the sky. One question we haven't been able to answer yet is how do we break the chains of capitalistic greed? Enslaving all that buy into a system of empty promises and high hopes. Since when do we allow corporations to decide in the matters of love, freedom, free-will, ideas, health, science, passions, morals, values, environment and life? A marketing wet dream of sheeple walking doe eyed into the grinder. Homogenized pale realities swallowing one red pill at a time. Laughing the whole way loudly, blinders on, crying inside, screaming for sweet release. How can I explain the infinite to you if we can't grasp the lack of survival we seem to adapted to without a touch of nature.

Feather touches the mind of entropy, brushing utopia around the corner. Ideas and ideals brought forth by constant thoughts hell bent on saving humanity. As the masses fight tooth and nail to destroy all that we know. A collective autistic nature, allowing institutions to lead us down a path of paranoia and greed. Selling phantom pocket ringtones, created in the cerebral cortex a basic animal instinct to be sold bought controlled keeping us further from our true self. Keeping us yearning for connection, even if its forgotten in the depths of time. Warning signs of cold nights to keeps us safe and alive. Are we getting better generation after generation? Right now we seem to collectively want a reset but don't know how to accomplish this task. A hard reboot. But the system has grown past anyone's self control. We hope that religion will guide us to the next time. Laughing that this is the start of the road to ruin. Fulfilling the prophecy that we decided long ago that we do not want to be here any longer.

How is it possible that the masses have decided this delusional state of mind? Willing to challenge life itself to its very core. Does cancer know of its existence? Manipulation of idol passive conquests. Steer us into non-reality voids. Painting colour apon colour. As our perception gives way to chaos. Disintegrating terror gives us hope that we are not sheep that we really are. Safety in anxiety of a world gone mad, we have watch all empires fall.

Wheels grinding , screeching and folding as humanity is perforated into bite size portions. Fed miss-information, lies and miss-steps. Taking us to the brink of loss.

Two minutes to twelve...

Extinction grows closer…

Pockets of us see a clear path a picture if you will. How to wake us up to survive. Answering questions on how to build on what has been destroyed. The more we hold on to our own reality and try to control it. The more we lose control of the awesome nature that life it self has to offer. We have to start to understand our nature. The will to feel what is real all around us. Seeking those moments of clarity wrapped in a soft blanket and a warm hot chocolate. Mother is coming folks. She is waking up. She will set us straight once again. On a paths of balance one way or another she will show us what her truest self is. Holding our hand like impetuous children we are. Time out, nose in the corner, looking over our shoulder waiting for the punishment to end. But my dear reader/ listener. I paint an easy picture in your head. If we pick our fight now...

If we wait. We will see the witch rise and all hell will break loose. A wash of fury that not one human in the existence of humanity has ever seen. It will be a cleansing like no other. There will be no record to keep. Now idols to worship. Not one person will be safe. Some may survive, some may even grow. But not like now. Time will have wiped the memories clean. You know I'm right. Think about it my friend. Inside you is the actual light of the universe longing to know itself.

It isn't love, but it is better than nothing. As monsters run wild inside of me. I can feel your soul. But the question is. If dimensional shifts are a real construct of a multi-verse, and all possibilities are real. Then it lends itself not only to experience all aspects of love and loss. But as prophets say, to be everyone in every situation and experience all realities. Maybe the true nature of love is the sadness of what we already know to be true. And that is to hold on to hope. That in this moment of fleeting desire we seek it to be different than all realities that we have witnessed before. I once heard, dreaming of what the world has taught me about love. Soothing complex fears wrapped in a neatly, tight, red ribbon. In that vision of truth. Don't ever question the deep burden I carry for you. My passion for you encompasses all. Let the dimensions cry for sweet release. It has given us the only way we can be who we need to be. Can it be as simple as you expect it to be? Passions remembered. Never giving up, never willing to fall. Making sure that all left behind will learn the lesson of true love. Beyond all expectations, beyond all hope. It isn't love, but it is better than nothing. I once heard. Dreaming of what the world has taught me about love. As monsters run wild inside of me. Soothing complex fears wrapped in a neatly, tight, red ribbon. I can feel your soul. In that vision of truth. But the question is. Don't ever question the deep burden I carry for you. If dimensional shifts are a real construct of a multiverse, My passion for you encompasses all. And all possibilities are real. Let the dimensions cry for sweet release. Then it lends itself not only to experience all aspects of love and loss. It has given us the only way we can be who we need to be. But as prophets say, to be everyone in every situation and experience all realities. Can it be as simple as you expect it to be? Maybe the true nature of love is the sadness of what we already know to be true. Passions remembered. And that is to hold on to hope. Never giving up, never willing to fail. That in this moment of fleeting desire we seek it to be different than all realities that we have witnessed before. Making sure that all left behind will learn the lesson of true love. We are the grandest illusion ever created. Beyond all expectations, beyond all hope. Stepped in, time is up, here we go! Feel the wind on your face, the sun in your eyes. Blue all around you. Paradise found.

#god #playwriting #play

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alltingfinns · 4 years

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For the July celebration of Sherlock’s Ten Year Jubilee I am continuing what I was already doing the rewatch:

“Look at you and John.” Superquickly “What about us?”

The theme of this episode is John and Sherlock being defensive about their relationship.

(Okay that is John’s theme in general, but Sherlock isn’t usually.)

Wait, did Henry and Sherlock just decide to ignore that John went off on his own? Both of them?

They do play with some classic horror staples like the scary sound with an innocent origin and jump scares.

Ohh, that sideways glance at John as he dismisses the hound, not realizing that Sherlock lied when he said he didn’t see it.

The way the scene is filmed whenever there’s a closeup of Sherlock with John in the picture almost looks like they are separated and then superimposed. Sherlock’s doubts are separating them.

Spock as a Vulcan was not free from feelings but rather constantly keeping them under check. He also claimed to be quoting an ancestor when saying that “whatever remains” quote, so a descendent of Doyle? SH is canonically fictional in the ST universe.

Getting sidetracked.

John had much better patient relation with Henry. Why did he think repeating Sherlock’s name was going to help?

John looks pissed.

“Look for the dog/woman” (I am not even attempting to write out the French) classic crime novel theme with a canine twist. Usually it’s about looking for motive though.

A bit silly that they don’t notice the man who screamed “NOTHING WRONG!” pointing at them just a minute later.

Still don’t get quite why John is so pissed before Sherlock tells him to leave him alone. Sherlock is upset and not handling it well but John takes it personally?

Maybe the emotion got to him too?

For the first time I saw “diana” in Henry’s flashback. His memory is clearing up.

All those other guys, just looky-loos? Except they came in their cars which isn’t the most discreet peeping tool out in the moor, so are they waiting their turn?

Sherlock knows John’s type but still doesn’t realize that he belongs to it.

Henry’s like “I knew I shouldn’t have gotten the ironic cable package”

“Only a nutter if you’re wrong”

Aww, even when things are rough John is more concerned with Sherlock than the case. His music even chimes in.

But here comes the party crasher.

Frankland is almost too obvious with that sabotage.

Omg! The Netflix subtitle referred to them as “sambo”! A serious couple who live together! It’s like whoever’s translating this thought there’s no point in being subtle about the “live-in PA” implications.

Yeah, no, John. Frankland may have fooled you with his schtick but he clearly knows who Henry’s therapist (and other weak points) is.

And then not at all subtly implicating Stapleton. I think someone went to the same deflecting-guilt coach as the president!

Look on the bright side John, for once the girl thought you had a thing for a guy that wasn’t Sherlock.

He really likes standing on that cliff. (When you are tall but still want to be tall.)

“Oh look you’ve got damp” is about my level of small talk.

Act eccentric enough and you can sneak out some sugar without raising questions.

Between Sherlock standing dramatically in high places and spotting John looking concerned in a cemetery...

UMQRA didn’t lead anywhere but sex.

A serious discussion about their friendship and Sherlock’s humanity in a cemetery...

Sherlock technically doesn’t insult John, he just calls him not a genius. Still doesn’t mean that John is average (or less) in intellect.

Sherlock, dear Sherlock. It really seemed more plausible to you that John was in on some Mycroft conspiracy to call Lestrade Greg, than the possibility that it is his given name?

I’m assuming this is where the mystrade ship set sail since it’s the first real connection of any kind between the characters.

Not your handler.

And again John shows his cleverness with appreciation from Sherlock.

The tenderness in “you don’t have to keep apologizing”.

Oh poor John. If you don’t take sugar in your coffee it can taste outright nasty when it’s added, especially if there’s no milk. But Sherlock just pouts the slightest bit and John weakens.

The Sherlock mirror was going to put the dog down but couldn’t.

I don’t get the denial about Sherlock being autistic when they have John mention aspergers. Of course the stigma is so strong you have plenty of people saying aspergers isn’t autism at all, which is sort of like saying hay fever isn’t pollen allergy.

It’s plot convenient that they go to Baskerville but is it just for the literally lab condition? He does analyze the sugar there.

John smiles a bit at “could be dangerous”. At this point that sentence should be engraved in their wedding rings.

I wonder what he promised Mycroft in return. “No fat jokes for a week.” “A year.” “Fine.”

You really feel for Henry.

The aerosol is dispersed in a room with the warning “Keep out! Unless you want a cold.” COVID-19 premonitions in my 2012 episode of Sherlock?

Also, how many others were unwitting test subjects?

Clearly light sensitivity is a symptom. Obviously didn’t come up in Dewer’s Hollow.

John trying to call Sherlock with the John music, ahh.

There’s almost no time between “can you see it” and Sherlock’s appearance so he must have been close by.

Sherlock has at least the morsel of decency to look guilty when John says he was wrong.

Why is everything about the bunny the absolute funniest thing?

A jellyfish!

Also Sherlock sneaking glances at John while doing lab work...

I had to look up Aequorea Victoria because I almost thought they picked it for the Victorian reference, but it is best known as a source for GFP (green fluorescent protein). They did their homework.

It may be a bit silly, but I really like the mind palace sequence.

It only works because Sherlock at some point read about CIA classified projects. I feel this is an untapped bit of his background. How much work has he done for his brother?

He figures out that Barrymore feel such a familiarity with Tatcher that he would refer to her by Maggie.

Aerosol Dispersal, how is that not what you focus on, Sherlock?

People make fun of the “top secret sweaters” but 1) people print sweaters for the silliest reasons and 2) it probably started out as a team name thing for the scientists involved before things went haywire and the project shut down. The project H.O.U.N.D. may have been a collective team name that ended up attached to the disaster. They made those sweaters thinking they were going to do a lot of other projects which they presumably didn’t.

Goddammit, Sherlock! You know a mind altering fear drug is around and you tell Lestrade to bring a gun? All John said was that Henry attacked her, although I guess he heard Louise saying gun.

There was a lot that I had no further comment on.

“Why not kill me?” “Because he needed to discredit you.”

Don’t know if I’d look so relieved by the idea of dying from an explosion. But it does look like he’d rather die than face it, and he may have been tired from the secret keeping and the conspiracy upon conspiracy.

Sherlock did see why they didn’t put the dog down, but this episode in general enforces the “playing Sherlock Holmes” for John’s benefit. It’s possible that his main takeaway from their fight was that John doesn’t like him having feelings.

Ahh, I see. I guessed John figured out that Sherlock “drugged” him back when he was angry about sugar. The realization now is that Sherlock locked him in the lab.

It’s so mean and so funny. I feel bad for laughing and yet I do.

Okay here he calls John average.

John wants him to admit being wrong but Sherlock fears that he will lose John’s interest then. “Won’t happen again.”

Poop jokes! Kind of feel that was specifically to take advantage of the “go see a man about a dog”.

Wonder what’s on Moriarty’s mind?

#rebecka’s sherlock rewatch #sherlock #johnlock #john watson is bi #suicide mention #little bit #10yearsofjohnlock

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mrsdeanwinchester19 · 4 years

Text

Chapter 1: The Phantom of the Castle

Written for @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan writing challenge

Steve x reader, dark!Bucky x reader

Warnings: none

Author’s Note: I took my mom to see Phantom of the Opera for her birthday and was inspired. There will be more chapters to come :)

“Presenting, her Royal Highness, Princess Y/N of Astrana!”

I take a deep breath and walk through the giant double doors. A loud cheer erupts from the nobles below, but I know a lot of the enthusiasm is fake. I just turned 21; I am now of legal age to take the throne without a regent should anything happen to my father, which means a lot of them lost their chance at stealing the crown. I descend the stairs and my father greets me at the bottom.

“You’re just as beautiful as your mother was at her 21st birthday party. Shall we?”

In Astrana, it is a tradition for the princess to dance with her father, or closest person she has to a father, at her birthday party. I set my gloved hand in his and he leads me through the crowd, despite the fact that they part like the Red Sea as we walk through. My father pulls me to the center of the dance floor and we begin to sway back and forth. The long red skirt of my dress brushes along the floor as we dance. My eyes wander around the room as we dance. Lots of men around my age who are known bachelors.

“Father, did you invite every bachelor within 100 miles of court?”

“No, that would be ridiculous. The range is much farther than 100 miles. Prince Thor of Asgard is here, but his journey was the longest distance. You need a man at your side who would make a good king.”

I know he means no malice in his words. He knows I’m perfectly capable of ruling the country of Astrana on my own, but the nobles are weary of any single royal, considering heirs need to be produced, and having a man willing to share the throne with me would only strengthen my rule. However, he must be someone that the nobles would approve of, otherwise they could hire people to stage a coup.

“I know father, I just always hoped to marry for love and not duty alone,” I say to him sadly as the dance ends.

Once it’s over, everyone starts clapping and my father begins speaking, “It is now time to present the chandelier to Princess Y/N.”

In Astrana, it’s a tradition for every daughter to receive a chandelier on her 21st birthday party. It was because a king long ago, whose daughter was his only connection to his late Queen, claimed that she was the light of his life during those dark times after she passed. He gifted her a chandelier to prove it to her. Now, it’s become a tradition. A bit silly as what use do I have for a chandelier, especially one as big as the one that they present to me by ripping off the cloth covering it.

The chandelier is ornate, covered in glittering diamonds that reflect as much light as the chandelier is producing itself. The crowd gasps and applauds again. As it’s raised above the crowd, an organist is playing a song that turns out sounding more ominous than joyful. Once the crowd quiets down, my father speaks again, “It is now the time for the princess to dance with each eligible bachelor. She chooses who she dances with first.”

Internally, I begin to panic. I wasn’t prepared for this. There are only two men I would want to dance with right now. My first love, who I haven’t seen in 7 years, or my own personal guardian angel, whose presence I can feel in the castle. My father told me stories of him once in a blue moon when I was a child. A knight who sacrificed himself to save my father during the Great War by pushing him out of the path of a grenade. After that, he became kind of a legend. Any time someone escaped death, they thanked the Knight. However, some people began blaming him for deaths of people around the castle who were often healthy. They said that his ghost was angry at others who survived the war, or didn’t have to go to war and lived a life of luxury in the castle. However, if that were the case, I would be dead, considering the nobles treat me as a china doll rather than an actual person. Growing up, it seemed like I could always sense his presence around me, and I felt safe, never threatened. I used to dream of him, and I considered him my own guardian angel. In my dreams, he would dance with me, teaching me how, because I wasn’t able to learn from the dance teacher my father hired. Right now, I wish he was alive and here tonight so I could dance with him.

Instead, I walk up to someone I know, “King Thor, will you honor me with the first dance?” Thor is a friend of mine, and he isn’t an eligible bachelor, but only I know that he isn’t. He’s engaged to a woman named Lady Jane, but doesn’t want anyone to know about her to keep her out of danger. Once they’re married, everyone will know, but for now he’s keeping her out of the spotlight.

Thor leads me to the dance floor and bows as I curtsy, and we begin to dance. He places his hand respectfully on my waist and holds my hand while I set my other on his shoulder. He spins me around and says, “You actually look 21 now.”

“Yeah? Well it would’ve been nice if you had dressed up,” I joke, adjusting his golden epaulette that had begun to slide.

“Oh really? Where did you get that dress, a chambermaid?”

I laugh and say, “It’s been too long since we were last together.”

“Yes it has. I’ve missed you. See any bachelors you plan to dance with?”

“Thor, you know I have to dance with them all. And I know you’re not available, but I think when I’m done dancing with you the group of girls next to the grand staircase are going to eat you up.”

“Should I make a run for it?”

“Good luck with that, they’re blocking the exit,” I laugh. The dance comes to an end and Thor bows once again. I turn around and see men straightening their jackets and adjusting their collars while smiling at me. I sigh. This is going to be a long night.

I collapse into the chair in my chambers, the exhaustion from the night finally catching up to me. I lean my head back and close my eyes, too tired to change out of my dress. Someone very gently begins taking off my shoes and rubbing my tired feet. I lift my head and open my eyes to see Natasha, one of my ladies in waiting and best friend since childhood, taking them off for me.

“Your father is looking for you,” she says quietly. “I figured you would be hiding away in your room. I think he wanted to congratulate on making a good impression tonight. Either that or there’s someone who wants to court you formally. You did fantastic tonight; I thought you couldn’t dance. How are you practically a professional?”

“I have a new tutor.”

“Did your father hire a new one? Or are you taking secret lessons?”

“No, father once spoke of an angel, he’s been teaching me. I can sense his presence even now.”

“Y/N you must have been dreaming. Stories like this can’t come true.”

“He’s real, I know he is! He has…the most beautiful blue eyes” I argue.

“Your brain must have been remembering what your dance tutor taught you and changed it to someone you didn’t hate. And your first love had blue eyes, but you can’t keep waiting for him.”

“He’s going to come back, I know it. And it’s true, I don’t like Brock tutoring me.”

“He prefers to be called Lord Rumlow,” she says.

“I find royalty who insist on using their title are the same ones who abuse their servants,” I say with disgust. I sit down at my dressing table and begin brushing the curls from my hair. There are rumors about Brock beating his servants; no one truly wants him to stay at court, but he is a nobleman. However, only by blood, because there’s nothing noble about the evil man. His great-grandfather was rewarded with lands for services rendered the crown. His grandfather continued to serve the crown, but Brock and his father thought themselves too good for work, and lived off the money their ancestors had accumulated while only getting richer from the fertile farmland.

Natasha sighs and says, “I know your father wanted to break the news, but Lord Rumlow has formally requested to court you.”

I freeze, then resume brushing the curls out. “No,” I say harshly.

“I knew you would say that. I’ll go tell your father,” she says before quickly exiting the room.

I reach behind me and unclasp my necklace. I should have told Nat to take it back with her, considering it is part of the crown jewels, and set it on my desk. I take off my heavy dress and put my nightgown on instead. Instead of leaving the nice dress on the floor, I pick it up and lay it over the chair, then throw my robe on over my nightdress. Natasha or my father should be back soon, so I examine the diamonds in the necklace while I wait.

My door opens and I assume it’s Natasha, but a male voice surprises me. “Where is your scarf?”

I turn around and see a tall, well-built blonde man in my room. “I beg your pardon?”

“Your scarf, your red scarf. Surely you couldn’t have lost it.”

I stand up and subtly reach behind me to grab the dagger hidden in my drawer. “Who are you and how did you get into my room?”

“You don’t recognize me? I suppose that makes sense, considering last time I saw you we were 14 and I was dripping wet from jumping into the sea to save your scarf.”

I look into his blue eyes and gasp. “Steven!” I exclaim, running over and jumping into his arms.

He lifts me off the ground and buries his face in my neck. “Hello my angel.” Steve always called me his angel. After I told him the stories my father told me, he said the only angel he needs to protect him on the battlefield is me.

I hug him back as tight as I can, breathing in his calming scent that I never forgot. He sets me down and I look at him, keeping my hands on his shoulders, when I realize how big he’s gotten. “When-how did you-? Why didn’t you come to the party?”

“My carriage was delayed. I wish I would have made it on time, I heard you had to dance with every man there.”

“Well, had you been there, I would have only danced with you,” I say, looking into his bright blue eyes. Not as striking as my angel’s eyes, but just as beautiful.

He smiles and says, “I want to take you out. Put on a warm dress and we’ll go for a walk in the garden.”

“Right now?”

“I’ve waited 7 years to see you again. Please don’t make me wait another day,” he says, gently holding my hand.

After I debate with myself for a moment, I relent, “Okay, let me put on a dress and some shoes.”

He smiles even more brightly and leaves the room to wait in the hall. I walk into my dressing room and grab my red wool dress with vines stitched over it. I stand in front of the mirror and examine my face and figure, checking to make sure I look good for him. Suddenly, the candles in my closet all go out, as if a gust of wind blew in. I freeze, looking around in almost complete darkness, wondering what happened. I look back in the mirror, only to see it has fogged over so much that I can’t even see my own reflection anymore. However, a figure starts to take shape in the mirror. Not my figure, but a man; broad shoulders and thick thighs. The fog clears and I can see the man’s face; it’s my angel. In my dreams, I never saw his face, only his eyes because the bottom half of his face was covered in a black mask, just like it is now. Wisps of hair brush against his chin, slightly covering his eyes, but the blue continues to pop out. Without saying a word, he holds his hand out, palm up, as if for me to take it. I reach out, expecting to touch the mirror, but instead my hand rests in his gloved hand. His hand gently tightens around mine, and he pulls me forward. I step forward, and that’s when I realize the reason I couldn’t see my reflection was because the mirror swung forward, and what was pouring out was smoke, not fog. Once I’m inside a hallway dimly lit with candles, the mirror swings shut behind me. We begin walking and he grabs a candelabra from an indent in the stone wall. I have no idea where we’re going, but I trust my angel.

*Steve’s POV*

I stand in the empty hallway, waiting for Y/N to come back out. Seeing her tonight, I almost believed it wasn’t her. She became more beautiful than I ever thought possible, yet she doesn’t seem to know it. She could have any man, yet she chooses me. Yes, I am a crown prince, about to become King after the death of my father, but there are other princes was strong armies, and some who are already kings. Also, she loved me when I was 14 and extremely scrawny. When I turned 15, I had to return to my country because my mother died. After that, I wasn’t able to return to her because of all the responsibilities I had to take on in her absence, such as visiting children’s shelters, working with visiting dignitaries; duties that my wife will take on someday. I must have started a thousand letters to my angel, but never sent them. People told her I would never come back for her, though I promised I would before I left, and thankfully, blessedly, she didn’t believe them.

Two guards walk by, and it makes me realize how long I’ve been standing here waiting. She has to be done changing by now. I knock on the door, but no response comes. In fact, there’s no sound from behind the door. I crack the door open and stick my head inside. It looks darker than it had been. I open the door wider and step inside, closing it behind me.

“Y/N?” I call out. The room is dark and cold, all the candles in her dressing room blown out. Her balcony door is shut and locked. Where could she have gone? “Angel?”

Chapter 2

#star's multi fandom follower celebration #star's multi fandom follower celebration extended dealine #Steve Rogers #Winter Solider #steve x reader #bucky x reader #natasha romanoff #royalty #au #multiple chapters

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petri808 · 5 years

Text

Mirror’s of the Soul

Hau’oli la Hanau! Happy Birthday! @dark0angel13 Hawaii misses you ;)

Based on the folklore of a “dog-man” in Hawaii called the Kaupe. Spun to be a werewolf AU lol, but with a twist. The Kaupe was used in the DC tv show Legends of Tomorrow. It was pointed out to me that Lucy’s character reminded them of character from Witcher 3 as well lol.

~~~~~ Nalu AU one-shot

Lucy had heard the wild rumors of the dog-man of Nu’uanu Valley, but she chalked it up to Hawaiian folklore. These islands were full of such supernatural tales, and as a transplanted college student, seemed more like ghost stories intended to keep children from misbehaving. She hadn’t heard of any actual werewolves confirmed in the last few centuries, and this was probably not a real case. As far as she was concerned, superstitious hocus-pocus wasn’t going to keep her from hiking in the valley. It’s lush rainforests, waterfalls, or Pali cliff overlooks were stunning, especially near sunset or sunrise. A slice of nature surrounded by a growing metropolis.

While the professor droned on at the front of the lecture hall, one of her closest friends slides into the seat next to her.

“You’re late Natsu,” she whispers, “class started 20 minutes ago.”

“Did I miss much?” the young man retorts. Lucy shakes her head. “Then I’m not late at all,” he grins back.

She rolls her eyes but can’t help a chuckle from escaping. “Got any plans this weekend?”

“Tomorrow yeah,” he shifts in his seat, “but should be free Sunday.”

“How about you take me on a Dave ‘N Busters date Sunday so I can kick your ass at RD again.”

“You’re on!”

The next morning, Lucy awakens to perfect outdoor weather. Balmy breezes lightly shifting her curtains and blue skies as far as the eye could see. It seemed her roommate hadn’t made it back to their dorm in the night, probably staying the weekend with her boyfriend off campus. Lucy sighs, and turns on her bed facing the window, maybe one day she’ll be able to do the same. Yeah sure, Hell might freeze over before Natsu saw her in that way. He was the best of friend that any could be, but no matter how many times she threw subtle hints or flirted with him, it all seemed to go right over his head. Oh well, the times they spent together sufficed, but for now the valley was calling her name.

Not only did she like simply being surrounded by the peace and tranquility the forest could provide, it also served as a perfect, distraction free place to write her stories. Notebook, extra pens, fully charged laptop, trusty outdoor blanket, lunch, and ready to go, she ascends the Lulumahu Falls trail. It was only a 2-mile hike round trip, but unlike some of the other trails in the area, this one cut through a bamboo grove and wasn’t one of the official paths. As such, traffic tended to be lighter with fellow hikers opting for the maintained trails instead.

She reaches the end of the line and finds a shady area with large flat boulders to sit on. Thank goodness for the recent sunny weather. The trail had been mud-free, humidity was lower, and the air was crisp. Lucy takes out her laptop, balancing it on her thighs and gets to work, letting the sounds of the forest send her into a rhythm. Her words flowed forth like the gentle burbling of the nearby stream of the same namesake. Hands gliding across the keyboard like the chirping birds around her. Every now and again there was a crackle of a falling branch, or footsteps of a fellow nature seeker, but she paid these no mind, her characters keeping her enthralled.

It was great when ideas came to her so easily. The infamous writers block plagued her from time to time, but not today, and it wasn’t until the light was growing dim that she realized how long she’d been in the writing zone. Oh crap! It may still be warm for fall, but the sun also set quicker in these later months. She checks the time on her phone and guestimates another hour tops before she needed to get out of there. Alright, this chapter was almost finished, she could make it!

She didn’t make it.

And by the time she’d stumbled into what she assumed was the Kaniakapupu Ruins, it was dark, cell phone coverage was nil, and it was growing a bit chilly. Thank goodness for her blanket! Lucy had two options, keep trying to find her way out through unmarked trails and risk getting more lost, or staying put until morning. The clear skies were in her favor and the bright harvest moon chased away some of the darkness. She groans and finds a decent rock to plop onto, guess she’ll just hunker down for the night.

About a half mile away, deeper into the Nu’uanu valley, something catches the scent of the lone female, but that wasn’t good, for he recognized the scent. ‘What is she doing here and on this night of all nights?!’ He came here to hide during this phase of the month, an ancient calling against his bloodline to guard the heiau of Kaheiki. Legend has it, his ancestor had impregnated a human female shortly before being killed by a chief from the island of Hawaii, and to atone for that progenitor’s misdeed’s, a descendant was born as a Kaupe every hundred years or so to guard the heiau of the priest that helped to stop it’s rampage.

A thousand years later, it was Natsu’s bad luck that this curse fell upon his generation and with puberty came the confirmation. He tried consulting the most knowledgeable kahuna’s and priests he could find in the hopes of breaking the curse, but they all told him the same thing, this was his ancestors atonement and only the gods could see fit to change that. Yeah, well his family had been punished enough for something they hadn’t even done. It wasn’t fair in this modern era to keep suffering like this. All he wanted to do was settle down some day like a normal person, but who would want a freak like him?

Natsu’s worries were confirmed the moment he crept up to the ruins and sees Lucy sitting on a rock all bundled up. With his keener eye sight, he can see her hiking back pack near her feet and puts two and two together that she must have gotten lost. He could only imagine how cold she must be with nothing more than a light blanket to stay warm with. At least his fur helped with that, but it was still another 10 more hours before the sun will rise. Natsu paces as he weighs his options. Great, so what should he do? He couldn’t leave her all alone. But if he made his presence known it might scare the wits out of her.

He fails to realize that Lucy is now staring in his direction. It was strange at first the mixed scent of Natsu and canine. She couldn’t see him through the darkness but knew he was out there somewhere, but putting the clues together and it wasn’t a total shock. Lucy groans internally at the irony. The man had been keeping a secret, though she was no better.

“Natsu,” she lets out an exasperated exhale and stands up. “You might as well come out I know you’re there.”

That was impossible! How could Lucy know that he was there in the first place, and second, he wasn’t some random person! He hears her sigh.

“Natsu, I can pick up on your scent, now please just come out.”

With a lot of trepidation, he steps beyond the tree line into the clearing. “Lucy… but how??”

“Just come closer,” she sits back on her rock, “we both have a lot of explaining to do.”

Okay things were getting a little weird, and considering he was the werewolf, to think this was all really strange was… Weird! No one outside of his family had ever seen him in this form because he’d done well to stay completely hidden from humans, and even though clearly this woman knew it was him, Natsu was still hesitant to let Lucy see him for what he was. It was also a bit unnerving how unfazed she seemed to be. He finds a fallen log about 10 feet away from her and sits down on the edge of it. If he needed to take off again, it would only take mere seconds to do so.

Lucy adjusts the blanket around her body, then props her head with her hand against her knee. “I assume you are confused?” Natsu nods. “Back home, my family hails from a long line of hunters…. Creature hunters.” She tips her head, “I remember my mom telling me how my great, great, grandfather immigrated to America to establish a line of Heartfilia’s in the new world. I think it’s silly and I moved here to get away from it all because I didn’t want to continue the tradition.” An exasperated sigh escapes her lips. “How ironic that I run into one so easily.”

“That still doesn’t make sense. How did you know it was me?”

She taps her nose. “I can track. Look I know it seems strange, and it’s not normal for a human to do that so easily. How do I explain it… Somewhere in my family line, an ancestor was imbued with a few abilities. I can’t see in the dark, which is why I’m stuck here, but an enhanced olfactory system allows me to detect scents, especially inhuman ones.”

“And, what do creature hunters do exactly?” his voice filled with an air of hesitancy.

“In the old days, they hunted to kill.”

Natsu tenses up and leans back, “should I leave?”

Lucy just waves her hand, “I came here to Hawaii to get away from that life. Just wanted to be normal, ya know, but it seems I can’t run away from it either.” She shivers as a breeze funnels through the clearing.

“Are you cold Lucy? I’m sorry I don’t have a jacket or anything and I can’t leave the area till morning.”

“Why not? In fact,” she pats the area next to her, “come closer and tell me your story. It’s only fair since I shared mine.”

“I--I really don’t like anyone seeing me like this, you’re the first outside of my family to.”

“I’m not gonna hurt you and I don’t care what you look like. I know you’re still you.” Natsu shakes his head. “Suit yourself.” Lucy stands up, gathers the blanket around her and trudges over.

“Wait, what are you doing!” Natsu scrambles to his feet, tripping, and falling backwards over the log with a thud.

She rushes over to help him up, “Are you okay?!”

He rubs the back of his head, “I’ve got a hard head,” he winces, “more my pride that got hurt.”

Lucy chuckles, “see,” she pulls him to his feet, “should’a just stayed still.”

After getting him to come back to the rock with her, Lucy pulls her feet into a cross-legged position. “Alright, now spill.”

With a deep exhale, Natsu lets the words flow. Everything he knows about his family, the curse, and what it’s like to be a Kaupe….

All the while Lucy sits quietly not wanting to interrupt him. She’d heard other tales of werewolves, old legends and such, including the idea of a curse causing the transformation. Though this was the first time she’d heard of a curse carrying on through a bloodline before. Guess, there is a first time for everything. The tale he told was heartrending. Their family’s ancestor may have been cursed because of a cold-blooded killer nature, but the man sitting next to her was nothing like that. Natsu would give you the shirt off his back if you were in need and he always made her feel safe, especially at night. If only there was a way to break the curse.

Having determined for herself what kind of soul lay behind his Olivine hues, the longer she stared at him, it occurred to her that Natsu… wasn’t that bad looking in this condition. Hawaii didn’t have wolves so did that make him more of a Weredog? Not that she truly knew what a werewolf or weredog was supposed to look like since old tales differed on appearance. Some depicted them as more human with canine features, others as more canine-like and barely human anymore. Almost all of the stories described large fangs and claws dripping with blood, no ability to discern right from wrong or with any human consciousness left. Boy were they wrong in this case! Natsu was fully aware of himself and more scared than she was.

His human fangs did look a bit longer than normal, his eyes still green but more canine-esque, with claws on his fingers and toes. Tufts of fur covered the parts of his body that she could see, but he wore a t-shirt and baggy pants, so it wasn’t much. A tail was definitely coming out of his lower back with pointy ears growing through his pink head hair. Lucy tips her head, those ears were really cute! She wondered what he would do if she rubbed them…

“Ahem. Are you even paying attention anymore?!”

“Huh?” Lucy shakes her head. “Sorry,” her face flushes and she’s glad it’s too dark to see it. “Curiosity and all.”

“I can’t let you touch them, so don’t even think about it.”

“Touch what?”

Natsu rolls his eyes, “my ears that you’ve been staring at for a solid 5 minutes.”

“Oh, why not,” she pouts.

“Because they are sensitive.” Okay that was a semi-lie. They were sensitive but rubbing them made him feel good in a provocative manner. “So, as I was saying, we have no idea how to break the curse, no one in the family ever knows who in the next generations will become the next one, but it usually happens when the current Kaupe is close to death.”

“Is this why you’ve never tried to make a move on me?”

Well that was blunt! “Um, I guess, yeah…” he scratches his head, “wh-what makes you think I would have?”

Lucy shrugs her shoulders a little sad by his response, “wishful thinking, I guess. Anyways, don’t worry, your secret is safe with me Natsu.”

“Y-you know Lucy,” he averts his eyes to the ground, “if I had… asked… what would you have answered?”

“Yes,” she turns his chin back and smiles, “I do like you, if that wasn’t already obvious.” Chuckling, “I just figured you only saw me as a friend.”

He takes a leap, “what about now, even after knowing this about me?”

“Hmm,” Lucy leans against him, resting her head on his furry shoulder, “the huntress and the werewolf,” she chuckles, “it sounds like a movie plot, but,” she looks up and smiles, “yeah, I’d still like to be your leading lady.”

#nalu #birthday fic #Natsu Dragneel #Lucy heartfilia #nalu au #nalu fan fic #fairytail #au story #werewolves #Hawaiian lore

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lamentalia · 5 years

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Amelia - Chapter 2

“Hey Mattie?” Amelia says awkwardly as they’re walking. Unlike Mattie she’s never been very interested in discretion and so her attempts at it often come out sounding stilted and graceless. Mattie is always, well, usually better at that kind of thing. However, something bothers her about his actions during the earlier altercation. “Uh. So… What happened to Gilbert’s Rule Number 1 back there?” She asks. “I mean, I could’ve taken the touga, you know, and it’s not like you to be so—”

His face and ears crumple into a wretched look. Oh, ouch, that’s what she was afraid of. She backpedals quickly.

“Hey! No, I’m not blaming you, bro! You’re just… usually more cool-headed than that? What I’m trying to say is are you ok?” She’s kicking herself inside, but Mattie seems to understand what she means. He always does, even when she can’t express herself to save her life. He gives her a tired but, thankfully, less self-flagellating look.

“Sorry, Em.” He says and takes a beat to continue. “I don’t know what happened.” He sighs, yet again. “I should have taken the sanga out first but… Well, I saw that guy grabbing you and I guess I just… reacted.” He shrugs and looks genuinely perplexed. Amelia can sympathize.

“Yeah, ok, I get that.” Amelia says, considering how the scene must have looked to an onlooker. “I guess I might have done the same thing if it were you.” Mattie rolls his eyes and finally smiles a bit.

“Ugh… Thanks, Em. That makes me feel worse.” He says. Amelia shoves him.

“Jerk!” Amelia laughs. She headbutts his arm in sisterly fashion, affectionate but not too gently. Mattie’s too tall to return the gesture of a head butt when they’re walking side-by-side, or rather, Amelia’s too short. It’s no fair, really. They’re supposed to be twins. Why can’t they be the same height? Instead he chuckles and musses her hair in return.

“I don't know…” Mattie repeats after a moment of silence. “I guess I’m just really tense with everything going on, eh?.” Its Amelia’s turn to roll her eyes.

“Mattie, you take on too much responsibility and you’re not very good at it. You gotta stop worrying about everything so much.” She says. Mattie’s face tells her he has some complicated emotion running through his head. “I’m not saying there’s nothing to worry about, obviously,” she shrugs, “but not everything can be helped, you know? We just gotta keep moving.”

“Mm.” He says noncommittally. There’s still something rattling around in his head that he’s not saying to her. Well, she knows he’ll think about it at least.

★

After an anxious hike, Amelia and Matthew arrive. Amelia’s first instinct is to relax as the sunny meadow where they live comes into view. They stop for a moment to take it in.

Amelia feels it’s different somehow, as though she is seeing it through a perspective she didn’t have before. She feels the irony in her telling Mattie to keep moving earlier. It’s just hit her that this will be the last time she visits this place. The home she and Mattie grew up in; the home they woke up in, ate breakfast in and left this morning to patrol their territory as they always have done. Until today.

She scans the scene as if to commit it to memory.

It’s a small meadow full of autumn wildflowers and surrounded by forest that has just begun to change colors. Standing still, they can hear the distant sound of sea water crashing against the rocky cliffs of the northwestern coast of Sisa. Amelia wonders sadly if that’s been swallowed by the Void too.

Just off center of the meadow is an old, gnarled tree that somehow took root atop a rocky outcrop. Its roots twist down over the sides of the bedrock and hide a crevice in the ground that is large enough for a cat to climb through but small enough to miss unless you stand on top of it. Amelia and Mattie don't need to see it to know it’s there; it is the entrance to their home.

Amelia’s heart clenches painfully and she and Mattie find each other’s hands at the same time. Mattie’s hand is a little too cold. Hers is probably a little too hot.

Do they really have to leave? Things are suddenly going way too fast…

But Amelia looks at Mattie and sees that he is hesitating, too. Well, if they must leave, at least they’ll be together. She pulls on Mattie’s hand and walks with him to their house. They need to pack.

☆

Sunlight filters in through the crevice in the ceiling. The floating dust motes beneath it look like tiny, moving stars. She follows the motes with her eyes for a moment before trying to catch them in her small, uncoordinated hands. She peeks into her cupped hands each time she thinks she’s caught one but never finds one there. It perplexes her and makes her more determined…

She hears a soft, musical hum coming from the direction of the stove.

It’ s Mama.

She turns around hoping to see Mama, but Mattie is sitting at the big wooden table, drawing, and is blocking her view. She jumps a few paces sideways, craning her neck.

And one more jump.

There’s Mama!

She loves Mama’s humming. She runs, singing along, to Mama and Mama turns and smiles down at her…

☆

Mattie takes a stack of Guiding Leaves from a basket near the entrance and gives half of them to Amelia. There is a shallow bowl on a shelf beside them that is still full of water from the morning. Mattie drops a leaf into the water. After a moment it begins to glow and the two descend the short staircase into the main living area of their home.

They walk about the room dropping leaves into the bowls of water placed in each corner of the room and put the remainder of their leaves into a large bowl on the wooden table in the center of the room. Gradually the room fills with soft green light.

Amelia looks around slowly, noticing all the things she takes for granted in daily life. The space is not too big, nor too small. The stove and table remain the same as they ever were since before she can remember.

There’s a barrel for water and several others for storing food stacked in one corner of the room. Mattie has a couple of jars of his sap reduction sitting on a shelf near the stove, which he is quite proud of. As he should be; that stuff is really, really tasty.

Her attention moves to the opposite side of the room where there are several shelves they’d installed to put the books left behind by their mother and gifted to them by Gilbert. She moves closer to touch them and wonders whether they could spare the space and the weight of them in their travel packs.

☆

“’Long, Long ago, Two Canes were the cleverest of all life in the land. They spoke several languages and used their tools and intelligence to make whatever things they wanted.

They could fly through the sky or burrow underground—’”

“WOW! They fly??” Amelia asks, taking a break from “grooming” Mama’s glossy, black tail.

“We live underground.” Mattie said quietly, sounding dubious.

“Yes, they did fly.” Mama said with a patient smile, lowering the book she was reading to look at each kitten. “And Mattie, this house was built by Two Canes many, many years ago. This place is very special and ancient.”

Mattie’s ears straighten in shock. He peers around the room as though looking for some hint of Two Canes left behind.

“Issat why the rock walls look funny, Mama?” Amelia asks.

Mama’s brown-skinned hand pats her on the head and she gives her a wide smile as if giving her a reward for doing something very good.

“That’s right Emma,” Mama then pats the smooth, cool wall beside her. “Only the Two Canes could make something like this.”

She returns to the book.

“Now then… ‘they could even spend many days at sea. They excelled at making art and music.—’”

“Mama n’ me make good music!!” Amelia says excitedly. Mattie looks disappointed so she adds, “And Mattie is good at making drawin’s!” He perks up.

Mama smiles and continues.

“’The ancestors of the Ribika were Cats that obeyed Two Canes who were second only to the gods and could have been called gods on earth…’”

“Where did the Two Canes go?” Amelia asks. “Why aren’t they here anymore?” The concept of gods was still a bit fuzzy to Amelia, though she knew they were supposed to be amazing beings.

“Well…” Mama hesitates. “We don’t know what happened. We only know that they disappeared long ago.”

How mysterious! Amelia imagines them flying so far into the sky that maybe they got lost and couldn’t find their way back.

“Mama, why are we called Ribika?” Mattie asks with his head to the side, like he does when he’s thinking a lot.

“We were named after the goddess Ribika who gave birth to the first of our kind.” Mama replies, smiling at Mattie as she did to Amelia earlier. “Before her, our ancestors walked on four legs and were much smaller and less intelligent than we are today.” Mama says.

Amelia tries to imagine such a creature, but it looks very silly. Mattie still has his thinky face on.

Mama laughs softly and her long, straight black hair shifts as she picks the twins up. “Alright, that’s enough for tonight. Time for bed you two.”

☆

Amelia lifts the book to her chest.

She and Mattie have precious few memories of their mother. Most of the memories they do have are foggy and dreamlike; so delicate that she fears they could disappear.

She decides to take the book with her and grabs the one about the stars that Gilbert gave her, too.

Their mother passed away years ago when they were still very small kittens. They don't remember anything of her death except that she was ill for a time and then gone one day. They do not recall how long they were alone together after that, somehow surviving on what they could find in the house and in the meadow. If Gilbert hadn’t stumbled upon them one day, they certainly wouldn’t have survived.

Amelia grabs a pack from her and Mattie’s room and puts the two books in it. Mattie is in here too. If he has any concerns about the practicality of bringing books along, he keeps them to himself. Amelia notices he’s already got the jar of sap reduction sticking out of his bag. Perhaps that has something to do with it. Amelia smiles at him knowingly and continues packing.

★

“So… now what? Do we go ahead with our original plan?” Amelia asks. Anxiety is sadly dulling the rare pleasure of her satiety.

They’re sitting at the wooden table; bags packed and stomachs fuller than usual. After all, as small as their food stores are for a winter, it’s too much to carry all at once. They may as well eat as much as they want. Plus, they’ll need the extra energy for the trip and their goal is to end up in a place where they can find food, anyway.

Leaving home will be a moot point, otherwise. Amelia grimaces at the thought.

“Yeah, it’s our best bet.” Mattie unfurls the map that had been stuffed in his pack. “We only know where Gilbert and Ludwig are.” Mattie points to the center of the map where there is a city labeled ‘Ransen’.

Amelia nods.

Ransen is the biggest city in Sisa and where Gilbert and his younger brother Ludwig live. The two of them have told the twins everything they know about Ransen.

It’s supposed to be huge, with giant Two Canes ruins and hundreds, maybe even thousands of cats from all over; even cats from abroad! Amelia can hardly imagine so many cats living in close proximity; apparently no one there bothers much about territories.

Most amazing of all, though, is that the Void has never shown up anywhere near the city and there has never been a breakout of the Sickness. Food is plentiful and monsters are few. Gilbert had told them they are welcome to stay at his place if they ever needed to leave home.

This was two years ago, though. There’s no telling what has happened in that time… It’s still worth traveling to as they have no better options.

“According to what Gilbert said last time he was here, the Void was closing out the forest North East East of here,” He points to the area. “Down through the area Southeast of us.” His claw tip gently traces the forest down in a line that effectively cuts off a direct route to Ransen.

“So, we’ll have to go to the South.” Amelia says. “We may want to account for some expansion and hook a little southwest before turning east.” She traces her own line down, curving westward through a couple of small villages and then across, heading east to Ransen. Conveniently, there appears to be a river that follows this path partway. Mattie nods slowly, concern showing in his ears and his furrowed brow.

“Yes, but we should try to avoid those villages, if possible.” He says. Amelia blinks at him.

“What? Why?” She asks, baffled. “If we have to go south anyway, we may as well. They might have information we could use.”

“They’re also on the edge of Sisa” Mattie replies pointedly. “They will be hurting for resources like we are, if they’re still there, and you remember what Gilbert said about the outlying villages, right?”

She vaguely remembers Gilbert saying something…

“They’re unfriendly and territorial, even to passersby.” Mattie says, rolling his eyes.

Ah. Yes. She forgot about that.

“Ok, ok. So we’ll avoid the villages.” She says waving her hands at Mattie. She picks up her coat and shrugs it on. “Think we’re ready to go now?”

Mattie sighs, taking another sweeping look across their house. Amelia follows his gaze. They’re leaving so much behind… They knew this day would come but the forewarning gives them no solace in practice. She finds herself sighing too.

“Yeah. It’s not like it’s going to get any easier, eh?” Mattie says donning his coat and lifting his pack onto his shoulders. “The sooner we get out of here, the safer.”

Amelia nods and grabs her own pack and her sadness is soon overlapped with excitement. She’s never traveled so far, before, and she can only imagine the possibilities.

★

#lamentalia #aph #Axis Powers Hetalia #hetalia #aph america #fem!america #Female America #aph canada #crossover #lamento crossover #fanfic #hetalia fanfic #hetalia fantasy au #fantasy au #nekotalia #?#does this count?

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peterpaniskingofneverland · 7 years

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2. Life After Death (Peter Pan x reader)

Hallo guys, sorry it took so long. But life as been super hectic with iternships, moving and everything. But here it finally is, the second part of Life after Death.

Please let me guys know what you think, I did my best.

If you want to join the tag list please send me a message, and then I will add you

Tag list:

@the-chick-with-the-best-fandom @lust-for-pan @peterpanneverfailsxoxo

***

The door opened and the (Y/L/N) family walked inside. Your parents were looking at the decorations of the house while you walked behind it. On the stairways was standing a couple, the Jones. Their faces weren’t looking happy, more annoyed than excited like your parents were.

‘Lady and Lord Jones, Mr. and Mrs. (Y/L/N).’ The butler introduced your parents and the Jones. After some awkward small talk by your father and the Jones, but you could say that it was also more a one-sided conversation.

‘Will be drinking thee in the west wing.’ Lady Jones suddenly said. The whole party started walking towards the west wing. You were last in the line and was distracted by a piano standing inside the hall.

On top of it was a little vase with a dying flower in it. You looked to the way your parents and the Jones walked to and you saw that they were gone. You slowly sat down on the piano stool and played a little melody. You looked around to see if there was somebody around you to tell you to stop, or to go after your parents, but since there was no one there you continued playing.

Meanwhile in his room Killian was just finishing up the last touches to his suit when he heard a piano starting to play. He gave one look in the mirror and walked towards the grand hall. There, sitting and playing the piano that was never used, was a girl. She was playing the most beautiful song he had ever heard. It was soft and kind of fragile, like any hard noise could destroy this lovely song.

What Killian didn’t notice that was while the song was playing, he had descended the big stairs and stood now next to the girl playing the song. It wasn’t till the girl had looked over her shoulder, that he had realised his mistake.

The girl jumped so quick from the stool that it fell backwards, and the vase with the dying flower nearly fell of the piano, but you quickly reached for it, preventing it from falling. ‘Do forgive me.’ You said embarrassed. The felt horrible, the fact that you decided to play the piano in somebody else's house, and the fact that they caught you. You were prepared to be scolded by the man in front of you when he said;

‘You play beautifully.’

You then realised that this must be Killian Jones, your soon-to-be husband.’I am terribly sorry Lord Jones, for me to, well...’ You pointed to the piano, and then your eyes landed on the falling stool. You bend down for so far your corset and dress let you and tried to put the stool back. Luckily Killian bend down and lend you a hand. ‘It’s no problem, I always wanted to play the piano, but since...the accident it would be very hard for me to learn.’ He said pointing to his hand, or well, his used-to-be hand.

‘How did it happen?’You blurred out. You put a hand in front of your mouth looking shocked. You lowered your hand again. ‘I am terribly sorry again, it was very rude of me to ask.’

Killian gave a kind smile. ‘No trouble Ms. (L/N) as my soon-to-be wife you have all the right to know what happened.’ He looked at his hook. ‘It happened when I was a little boy, I was out playing in the woods when a couple of men kidnapped me, hoping to get some money for me. But my parents, as you know, not so wealthy anymore decided to not pay the price. Disappointed the men cut off my hand, so that I “had less hands to spent with‘. I returned a week later after my kidnapping. The hook was a idea of a servant of mine, to honour my ancestors and to hide the stump I have there. ’

‘Oh.’ You said looking down and then at the hook. ‘It’s suits you.’ You said quietly. ‘Now, if you don’t mind me asking ms. (L/N), where is your chaperone?’ Ms. (L/N), you never like the sound of that name. You always prefered it when people called you by your first name, but that woudn’t be proper, or would it?

‘Perhaps, since the circumstances you could call me (F/N).’ You say, and Killian seemed to think about that. ‘Well, then… (F/N),’ Killian said trying the sound of your name on his tongue. ‘Tomorrow we are to be wed.’ He said looking down at the ground. ‘Yes, we are.’ You could only reply, not knowing what else to say. ‘It seems silly, but I’ve always dreamed of never being married, but sailing the seven seas. Like my family used to do.’ Hook said sitting down on the stool, letting his fingers go over the keys of the piano.

‘Yes, very silly.’ You said out of nervousness, and then released your mistake. ‘Oh, no. No, not at all.’ You sat down next to him but you knee bumped against the piano, making the vase fall. You and Killian both stood up quickly. You grabbing the vase, and putting it up straight, and Killian grabbing the flower.

When you both looked at each other you saw how close you were standing by each other, Killian holding the flower between you, close to your face so you could smell the light aroma the flower gave off. He handed it to you and grabbed it.

But then the moment was disturbed by Lady Jones. ‘What are you two doing here alone? You know you aren’t suppose to be. The rehearsal starts in 15 minutes so we must go or otherwise we’ll be late. Come now, Pastor Hopper is waiting.’

***

So what do you guys think? Part 3??

Let me know what you think, don’t be afraid to send me a message.

#corpse bride #peter pan #ouat #imagine #crossover

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shadow-wasser · 7 years

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WIP Fic Whenever: A Passover Story

WIP Fic Friday is a place where I will put a ‘quick and dirty’ first draft of either a short story or a chapter from a longer story. This will hopefully encourage me to improve my writing output. I missed last week… oops. This is from the “The Gods Have Horns” setting.

There are words on the wind. You hear them, spoken. Prayers. Your name.

And you are the Page of Breath, so you give them Breath. You can break their chains, and open their doors. Only you. The mortals love you. They love you. You offer them liberty. You lift the downtrodden, and help them to topple tyrants. You follow the whispers of Breath in your ears.

You feel, in a way, like you’re actually important. The feeling swells as the centuries pass, and turn into millennia.

------

The people who came from the east are suffering. The hot sun. The burn and bleed of the whip. The sorrow, the hunger, the ache for a better life. They are slaves, and they are calling to you, from the desert sands, voices echoing through the dust.

You make landing by the river, and you walk through the town. A guard at the slave’s quarters sees you, and mistakes you for a child before he realizes that your horns are real. He is fearful, but you simply move past him and blow open the doors.

“Your freedom, is yours, if you want it,” you say, to the huddled mortals within.

They don’t move.

“Do you know who I am?” You reach out your hand to them, and smile. “I am the Page of Breath. Don’t be afraid, I won’t hurt you.”

They don’t move.

“pLEASE, cOME WITH ME,” you say. You are the Page, and you can’t force them to do anything, only give them the opportunity they need to seize their freedom themselves.

“We can’t, Page,” speaks up one woman, finally. “We are bound.”

“Take off your bindings,” you say. “They are nothing, like air. You can stand, with me, if you try.”

“We cannot,” says the woman. “We are bound by Blood.”

You have to let that sink in, a moment, before you realize what she’s saying. The wind whips up as you call your aspect, you reach towards the mortals- and you can feel the bonds, like heavy rope, tying them to this land, to the King who commands them, and, in thick clotted strands, to the Knight.

You could break them. It would be within your power to simply rip up Karkat’s curse like spider’s silk, but it would probably kill the mortals to do so.

You realize, that is something you could do. Charge in like a hoofbeast in a dishware establishment. Smash everything. Let them die free.

You don’t do that. Instead, you leave, for a distant dunetop, where you cannot see or sense anyone but a few desert invertebrates. And you call Karkat’s name.

----

The Knight of Blood is standing in front of you. He’s never been one for showy appearances, not like Gamzee, or Vriska, or Kanaya, or Eridan. In fact, he usually dresses drabber than his godhood, wearing a simple black cloak with no sigil. As he is doing now.

He opens his mouth, but you speak first. “What is going on, I mean, with the mortals here? They’re slaves, and it seems, to me, that you made them slaves? Why would you do something like that?”

“Tavros,” he says. “Please butt the fuck out of my business.”

You frown. “That was not an answer, to my question.”

Karkat groans and facepalms. “Look, it’s a long story. Can we go somewhere else to discuss this? Like some place not in the middle of bumfuck nowhere?”

You have to remind yourself sometimes, that not everyone likes to be in the middle of the wilderness, like you do. You find it calming.

“I think,” you say, “That this is a pretty good place.”

Karkat squints at you, then rolls his eyes and decaptchalogues a chair to sit in. You remain standing. You like to stand.

When he doesn’t offer any information, you press again. “So, those people, the slaves, why are they blood-bound?”

“Do you even know who these mortals are?” asks Karkat in reply. “Did you even do the slightest bit of cursory research on them? Or did you just trip over them and decide it was your business to fuck around with them?”

“It is my business,” you reply, “Because they prayed to me, and because my aspect, can free them, but will probably kill them?”

Karkat’s eyes narrow. “So is that what you’re going to do? Kill off these people because your aspect lets you?”

You shake your head. “No, I don’t want to kill them. I want to know, why they are slaves, and then for you to free them.”

Karkat shakes his head. “I’m not going to.”

“Why? They-”

“Listen, Nitram, I’m not going to go over this twice, so just shut the fuck up and listen. These people here, Kireshians, are the descendants and followers of this leader and warlord from a few of their generations back, named Kiresh. And he made a pact with the King here, the one who ruled at the time, that he wouldn’t attack their lands so long as the King let his people have safe passage. And of course because they’re mortals and they’re fucking idiots and have no sense of proportion, they made it a BLOOD PACT.”

“So they clearly didn’t trust each other, which made sense, since after a few years Kiresh went and started raiding the Kingdom's outlying settlements. Maybe he thought the King wouldn’t notice? Maybe he thought I wouldn’t notice? Fucking braindead.” Karkat snorts derisively. “The stipulation of the pact was that he and all of his people, and all their descendants and descendant’s descendants, had to serve the Kingdom, and all his descendants and bluh bluh blah. That’s it. Fucking dirty politicians getting divinity involved in their contracts. It’s bullshit but there you go. End of storytime.”

You blink. “Wait, so, these people are being punished because of something their ancestors did? How long ago, was that?”

Karkat pauses, tapping a claw against his chin. “I’m not sure. Not that long. A few centuries, I think.”

“But, I mean, I don’t think their species lives that long?”

Karkat nods. “Yeah, their generation time is short. So what?”

“So uh, these people don’t have anything to do with Kiresh, or the old King, or whoever it was. They’re different people.”

“They’re Kireshians. They're his descendents. They’re linked by their bloodlines and sworn to him, so the BLOOD PACT applies to them. It’s not a thing you’re supposed to do on a goddamn whim!”

“So, you’re not going to free them, because of this silly rule, about your pacts?”

Karkat frowns and leans forward. “It’s not a silly rule, it’s my fucking aspect!”

“Can’t you just let them go, this time? They didn’t do anything, and it wouldn’t hurt to make an exception, and be a little more, flexible.“

“That would be numbfuck stupid. No, I can’t make exceptions for every mortal that makes baby woofbeast eyes at me. On principle. If nothing else, it will be a warning for other mortals to not take BLOOD PACTS lightly.”

You’re feeling irritated, now. “You’re doing this, on principle? But, it’s just a rule!”

“Goddamn it, Tavros,” he says. “Go on your way, and butt the fuck out of this.”

He’s gone.

The Kireshians are sworn to serve the people of the Kingdom. Breaking that promise to Karkat would likely backlash, and kill all of them. And Karkat is too set in his ways, like he’s stuck in a rut. He can’t seem to think around his rules. You are kind of pissed off at him, but more than that, you want to free him from his rigid way of thinking.

------

You go, and talk, with the Kireshians. You learn that they worship their ancestor, not like he's a god, but like he's watching over them, guiding them. They tell stories about him, and talk about him, a lot. He's their identity, the remnant of a proud past, the only point of pride they have left.

You know that if they give up their culture, they could escape. Drop all ties with Kiresh, and they will no longer be bound. But you don't think, they'll do this. So that leaves convincing Karkat. You'll need to be creative, and sneaky, and you’re not so good at that.

But you know who is.

She owes you a favor anyway.

------

"You don't need to convince Karkat," she says, grinning. "He cares about his pact-holders, right? They're all family to him, right?"

Then she tells you, what she is going to do. And, you talk her down, to some less extreme methods, and she agrees, that she will only use them, as a backup.

So you go to the slaves, the once-proud people, the Kireshians, and tell them to inscribe your sigil on their doors, so she’ll know where to not strike.

------

You float gently on the breeze, high above the city. They are building great monuments, aqueducts, temples, sculpture. The sun is shining, on the red stone.

“Free the Kireshians, please," you say to Karkat, using his name. "Bad things are going to happen, if you don't." But he doesn't come.

So now you’re flying, and you watch, as Vriska Serket flies below you. She turns to look up at you, and gives you a wink.

And then, the sky goes black with soot.

And then, the hail comes, and the lightning.

And then, the crop blights, and the lesions, and the toxic algae that turns the water red.

And then, every male child is stillborn.

And you go to check, but the slaves are still not free.

“Karkat Vantas," you say. "You need to free the Kireshians. Your pact-holders are dying." You know that he can hear you, but he doesn't answer. Is he calling your bluff? Does he think that you wouldn't kill people who are bound by blood?

He's right. You wouldn't.

Vriska is shimmering and gleaming, radiant with all the light she is taking. She grins at you, and waves. “Plan 8!” she laughs.

The earth tremors, and cracks, and the King, and all his people, and all his lineage, are swallowed by darkness.

The slaves, bound to a bloodline now erased, are free.

-----

The Kireshians are free. And you are horrified.

“Don’t be so sensitive,” says Vriska, tossing her hair over a shoulder. “I freed the slaves like you asked, didn’t I?”

You gesture angrily. “Yes, but you killed another group of people, who had nothing to do with it!”

“I told you that was plan B.” Vriska sounds utterly unconcerned.

“I think it should have been, maybe, plan Z.”

“Oh, please, Tavros, like continually tormenting them with plagues is better. I guess Karkat doesn't even care about his stupid oath,” Vriska sneers. “Anyway, bonds removed, slaves free, you’re welcome.”

“Vriska this is not what I wanted!”

“What you wanted?” Vriska smiles sweetly. "What did you want me to do, keep killing babies until the King died of old age? Booooooooring. Tavros, you know how I do things. You wanted me to do it! You should try to get your pan sorted out before you - Aw, fuck, Karkat’s here.”

Yes, he is. He’s there, dressed in his deep red godhood, red wings flashing for a moment before he tucks them out of sight.

“Tavros, what the shitmaggot fuck did you do???”

“See you later, Tavros!” Vriska says cheerfully, and kisses you on the top of your left horn, before flying off.

------

"Mortals can't just.... make BLOOD PACTS without thinking about the consequences!!"

"I don't see why, these rules, are so important!"

"So you think every time a mortal breaks a promise, we should just swoop in and forgive them?" Karkat pitches his voice mockingly. "Oh, don't mind the fact that you literally swore on your fucking freedom or your life that you'd do this thing, we don't mind! Mortals lie all the time anyway, there's no reason to have an ironclad way of making them swear the truth!"

You cross your arms. "Not when people, who weren't even involved, are sworn in too!"

"They were still loyal to him. Fuck, Tavros, I thought you were going to try and break them of their cultural hang-ups, not fucking destroy the city!"

You frown at him. "That would have taken, a lot of time. Why didn't you, do that?"

"Oh wow shit I don't know, maybe I had other, better things to do?? You're the one who cared so much about this, not me! Fuck, you're a god, it's not like you don't have time, if this is what you want to do."

"Well, you should have cared, since it's your rule that got them enslaved!"

"I stand by what I did. Mortals have to keep their responsibilities straight when they mess around with the divine. I'm not going to spend my time finding them loopholes to exploit. Besides, it was their choice to keep their traditions. Isn't that what you like? Choice?"

"It's not, that simple. They were praying to me for help!"

"Oh boo hoo. And how many people are praying to you right now? Fuck, Tavros. That is a really shitty way to be a god. You have to pick your battles."

He's almost looking like he pities you now. You don't want pity from Karkat.

He snorts. "I know better than to try and make you swear an oath. But don't mess around with my shit again, Tavros. This is a warning."

He's right, there's no point in you swearing one. Your power could break any bond he put on you.

"What about, uh, Vriska?"

"I don't fucking care. That's your problem."

You didn't swear an oath. You can't break an oath you didn't swear.

#wip fic #fanfic extra #my fic #homestuck #fanfiction #godstuck #tavros #karkat #vriska

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bffhreprise · 5 years

Text

Entry 249

I was certain this must be what feeling high is like. My birthday party had been completely off the hook, but partying with the fey was on a whole different level. I felt like I was still ready to go even after an entire night of dancing, singing, and eating. The music, as old-fashioned as it was, made me feel as if I was the lord of the dance. There was no way I should have known the moves I was pulling, but everything seemed so natural at the time.

A single night taught me how the strangely beautiful creatures might have lured my ancestors. I mean, I already thought some of them were hot, but last night made everyone seem ten times as attractive.

“What?” asked Brenna, catching me glance at her.

I shrugged, knowing sis was excluded from that thought. Emma, Portentia, and the twins had seemed hotter than hot. Knowing that I didn't stand a chance with any of the beauties here killed me a little. Even Raine, who I found unbelievably terrifying at times, had let loose last night and really showed that she knew how to have a good time.

She caught me looking at her in one of the ballrooms mirrors, so I casually turned my head, not wanting her to think I was staring. I honestly couldn't see myself dating her even if she was interested. She was super pretty in a cutesy way, but knowing what her other form was like would keep me on edge around her.

“Sorry for my ignorance, but will everyone be fine to work today?” asked James, breaking into my thoughts. Something about him always caught attention. “I don’t know how long the effects of your magic linger.”

He was talking to Ariadne. She was out of my league as well, not that I was into child-like faces or old people.

She smiled at him in a grandmotherly fashion that seemed wrong on her youthful face. “I’m certain they’ll feel awake partway into the night. Please accept my apologies if I’ve thrown off their sleep schedule.”

James laughed and said, “Sleep schedules get a little odd around here at the best of times.”

“I can imagine. Alma here…” She gestured as she looked at Alma. “Do you mind me calling you Alma?”

“Not at all. I’d hate to burden you with the names my family would put upon you.” replied Alma with a small smile.

Ariadne laughed. “Rumors do have a tendency to grow over the years. I doubt you sleep much at all, given your family, but your fey blood is strong, child. If ever you give up on the Slayer childishness, the fey will accept you.”

I felt that I had just missed a joke, and was thankful that Brenna seemed to have missed it as well.

Alma didn't seem to like Ariadne's reply, since her smile vanished entirely, leaving her face looking inhumanly calm. “I appreciate the offer, but my loyalty is to my family.”

“We are your family too.” insisted Ariadne.

“Yes, and you claim to be Aaliyah’s aunt.” stated Alma.

Had that been in question? The two looked nearly identical, save for the obvious difference in age.

Ariadne nodded and said, “I am, after a fashion. She’s descended from my brother’s line. I watched over all of them throughout the years, though not as closely as I’d have wished at times. My failings…”

“Were beyond your control, so not really failings at all.” replied Aaliyah, smiling up at her aunt.

Ariadne smiled slightly as she poked Aaliyah’s nose.

“Do you really want the whole story of my family?” asked Aaliyah in a teasing tone.

Alma glanced at James before saying, “I think not.”

Best choice. Aaliyah’s explanations were hopelessly complicated.

“You’ll still have it in time.” insisted Aaliyah before sticking her tongue out at Alma.

I’d feel sympathy for Alma if I thought she could actually be forced to listen.

Ariadne patted Aaliyah’s head and said, “You’re rude as ever, child.” Then she stared up toward the ceiling. “Oh. Snow.”

“Yes, the temperature’s been dropping throughout the night.” stated Alma.

“Do you wanna build a snow-man?” asked Aaliyah, making snowman sound like two words.

“I do!” exclaimed Emma as she stole Aaliyah from the cluster. “We haven’t done that in ages.’

“There won’t be enough accumulation for hours.” explained Ariadne apologetically.

“Would you like to put that to a wager?” asked Alma, smiling again.

“The sun is only going to rise higher, so I will have to sit this out.” complained Cosette, steppingstone up beside Ariadne.

I hadn't really caught sight of her too much. I didn't know if she used some sort of vampire power or what, but Cosette had a way of just blending into the background and surprising people when she appeared. The girl was certainly another hottie, despite being a vampire.

“Don’t be silly. The clouds are plenty thick now for us to see if Alma’s correct.” argued Ariadne.

“I don’t have your resilience.” replied Cosette.

Alma gently touched Cosette's arm and said, “I’m sure James will help, since we’re at home.”

“Oh. Sure.” stated James, seeming apologetic for not offering himself.

“Ai. Mai. You’re both helping.” commanded Alma imperiously.

The twins sighed in unison before saying, “Yes, Lady Pendreigh.

I was glad those two were fine. I knew they were interested in Jarod, but there was something exciting about their twisted sense of humor.

“Where will you be? I’m already cold just thinking about snow. I need my coat.” insisted Brenna as she hugged herself.

Alma laughed. “You’d be fine set for a beach. I promise.”

Brianna didn't seem convinced, but her frown quickly gave way to surprise. Alma must have been doing some sort of magic on her.

“Shall we?” questioned Alma as she took James’ arm.

“We shall!” exclaimed Emma, bouncing Aaliyah on her shoulders.

James smiled and nodded. Then he looked to Cosette and said, “Tell me if you start feeling any discomfort.”

She laughed. “There’s always discomfort for a vampire, James. Light burns at our skin, blood calls to our nose, and even our magic taxes us. Still, we live to serve, and serve we shall.”

“I thought you wanted to avoid vampire politics.” stated Alma in a teasing manner.

Looking serious, Cosette replied “I don’t have to be political to help people.”

“I think the brothers would like you.” commented Ariadne.

Cosette’s serious expression changed to shock. “I… I… You know… them?”

“I told them that I refused to get involved in any plotting as well, and they like me just fine.” insisted Ariadne.

I wished I had a clue who they were talking about. Cosette didn’t normally stumble over her words in excitement.

“How did you meet them?” questioned Alma. “I hear they don’t get out much.”

“They don’t, but they arrived too late to stop an army when I was young and found me there instead.” replied Ariadne as if she were telling Alma a secret.

“I… see.” stated Alma, seeming uncomfortable.

“You guys are killing me here. I’m practically bursting with spoilers. If I wasn’t being held back, I’d be running ahead.” claimed Jarod, looking smug with the twins clinging to him.

James laughed and said, “You look so put upon with a girl on each arm. I’m sure your parents love your visits.”

Jarod shrugged and grinned. “They always knew I’d have an interesting life if I stuck around you.”

Alma leaned against James, apparently saying something that surprised him.

“Old lady present.” announced Ariadne. “Don’t forget my ears have just grown sharper with age.”

James blushed instantly, and Alma looked embarrassed before that unnatural calm returned. I liked Ariadne. She was the sweetest young-looking, old lady I knew.

“I’m sorry, child.” apologized Ariadne as she laughed. “I really should stop myself, but seeing someone in your family be so prudish is hilarious.”

“I see.” stated Alma, obviously not amused.

Emma and Jarod laughed the loudest. I had suppressed mine, not wanting to get on Alma’s bad side. I often wondered where she hid the good side, but then she’d do something nice, like helping someone out on Ancient Tribes of Earth.

I followed the group as we made our way out to the backyard. There were times when I felt this place was entirely too big, but I wouldn't change anything about it. The bragging rights alone for living here were surely worth something.

When we got outside, there was barely any snow on the ground. Then this insane downpour of snow started from around forty feet in the air, piling up with incredible speed as if someone had turned on a giant, invisible snow blower and blasted the yard. The snowfall stopped abruptly, leaving a good foot of snow on the ground.

Jumping free of Emma, Aaliyah shouted “Yippee!” Her faceplant was terrific.

Jarod, however, seemed dissatisfied. “But what about the…”

One of the twins quickly covered his mouth with her finger.

The other then said, “Lady Pendreigh, we may have mentioned to our boyfriend some of the tricks you pulled when we were younger.”

“Would you mind decorating?” questioned the first, still covering Jarod's mouth.

Alma sighed. “I suppose.”

I didn't have to wait for something to happen. Snow shifted and ice formed, creating buildings across the yard until we had a miniature village.

Aaliyah's sat up and gaped. “Wow! Auntie, I need stuff for a snowman.”

In a flash of light, her request was answered. Carrots, coal, scarves, hats, glasses, pipes, and other pieces appeared next to the shrimp.

“How does she do that?” asked the twins in perfect unison.

“I show off a bit, and you show me up in a flash.” teased Alma.

Ariadne smiled and winked.

I felt like I was a little boy who was about to play in the snow for the first time. Magic had always been part of my life, but life didn't feel magical until I moved here.

#Best Friend For Hire Reprise #Best #Friend #For #Hire #Reprise #Jovial Times #Jovial #Times #Fantasy #Fiction #Story

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voyagerafod · 7 years

Text

Star Trek Voyager: A Fire of Devotion: Part 4 of 4: Hotter Than Hell: Chapter Ten

“A party?” Brian Sofin asked. “Well, yes,” Neelix said. “I’ve been shirking my duties lately as morale officer, and things may seem normal, but I think you know as well as I do, Brian, that morale hasn’t recovered any in the past two months.”

“Can you blame them?” “Of course not,” Neelix said. “But I knew Commander Chakotay pretty well, and he would not want us to use his death as an excuse to stop living.” “Neither would I, but... A party?” “It’s the best way I know to boost moral for the majority of the crew,” Neelix said. “And it’s not like it’s completely random, I have a justification.”

“Which is?” “We’re a few days away from the the 315th anniversary of Vulcan-Human First Contact. Without that event, the Federation you know and love probably wouldn’t exist today.” Sofin winced. “Right, I forgot this week was First Contact Day. My parents always liked to watch old recording of Zefram Cochrane speeches on FC day. I would watch with them when I could, unless I was on assignment, before, well…”

“Exactly!” Neelix said. “I’ve already thrown one FC day party before; five years ago for the 310th. I think I even still have the decorations that Kes helped me make in storage.” Brian looked like he was considering Neelix’s idea carefully. He smiled, and Neelix knew he had a helper to put this thing together for the crew. He knew from experience that nothing would be 100% exactly as it was before the Commander’s death, just as things changed to one degree or another after the loss of any crewmember, but at least the ship would start to feel like a home again.

---

“Enter,” Joe Carey said, staring at his unfinished ship-in-a-bottle. The tiny Voyager inside only had one nacelle left to go. It had had only one nacelle left to go for months. Work on the project, despite it being his favorite hobby, came to a screeching halt when Commander Chakotay died. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” B’Elanna said as she entered Carey’s quarters.

“No,” Carey said. “How can I help you?”

“I’ll get straight to the point. You know I’m starting my maternity leave next week. The Doctor thinks I should start it sooner but, screw him. The point is, I need you to take over as chief engineer while I’m on bed rest, and for at least the first few weeks with Miral.”

“Mir- Oh, I didn’t know you and Tom had picked a name,” Carey said. “I said it in engineering the other day, Joe. Which you’d know if you’d shown up on time.” “Sorry, about that,” Joe said. “I just-” “I know why,” B’Elanna said. “I know what survivor’s guilt looks like, Joe. I let it slide for a good while, made everyone else keep quiet and not report it to the captain, but you’ve been slacking. Showing up late, doing the bare minimum…” “Then why are you asking me to take charge?” Joe said. “Vorik’s not ready for a leadership role, Mulcahey’s a floater between engineering and transporter control, and Gilmore hasn’t earned back all her clearances yet. That leaves you. I know you took it hard and that you blame yourself, but two months is too long. Especially when it’s not like we can just pop over to a Starbase or colony and give you extended shore leave.” “Yeah, you’re right,” Joe said. “Fact is I’ve been feeling guilty about my survivor’s guilt. Don’t tell me how silly that sounds, I know. I’ve been thinking for awhile I need to just get back to work. I guess I just needed a kick in the pants to do it.” B’Elanna smiled and gave Joe a friendly slap on the shoulder. “Well, that went easier than I expected. I was worried I’d have to shout at you.” Joe laughed. “Better that than breaking my nose.” B’Elanna shook her head. “Seven years later and you still won’t let that go huh?” “Hey, I forgave you a long time ago, you know that. But forgiveness doesn't automatically mean I stop ribbing you about it.” Joe laughed. He was pretty sure it was the first time he’d laughed in awhile. “There’s the Joe Carey I know and tolerate,” B’Elanna said with a wink. “Now get your ass to engineering so I can give my last set of orders to the team.”

---

Captain Janeway sat in her chair as the current bridge shift started, coffee in hand. Tuvok, still looking like he felt out of place in command red, sat in the first officer’s chair, looking at his monitor. Sue Brooks was at the helm today. Harry was at ops, and Lieutenant Ayala at tactical. Seven of Nine and Samantha Wildman were on the bridge for this shift as well. All was normal, or at least the new normal.

A beeping from the ops console broke Janeway’s train of thought. “I’m picking up a signal from an emergency beacon. It’s degraded considerably, the beacon looks to be decades old, at least.” “Can you decipher the signal?” Janeway said. Harry tapped a few buttons, and Janeway saw his eyes go wide. “I recognize this,” he said. “Harry?” “The signal. It’s a distress beacon, I can tell that much. Text, no audio, or at least none I’ve registered yet. References to a ‘generation ship,‘ I think. Captain, the message is in an old dialect of Talaxian.” “Well, that’s certainly unexpected,” Samantha Wildman said from the main science station. “To put it mildly,” Seven said. “Shall I have Mister Neelix summoned to the bridge?” Commander Tuvok said. “Absolutely,” Janeway said. “He’ll want to see this. And maybe have some idea how a Talaxian signal got out this far.” “If Mister Kim’s translation is correct,” Seven said, “I believe the phrase ‘generation ship’ may be the answer.” “I don’t recall him saying anything his people having sent out generation ships before,” Harry said, “but then again based on how old the sensor data tells us that beacon is it’s older than he is. It’s possible it just never occurred to him to mention it.”

---

Neelix watched the viewscreen, pacing because he was too excited to sit down. Upon being informed of the situation he had to give it considerable thought, but a quick skim of his old ship’s historical database confirmed what he suspected; this was from a ship that his ancestors had launched in the early days of their exploration into space. Its name was in a dialect that hadn’t been used on his homeworld since before he was born, but it’s name translated roughly as The Future. It had left Talax with 7 female and 5 male crew members, plus 1300 Talaxians from all walks of life in cryogenic sleep. His people had gone looking for it once they’d developed faster-than-light drives, and made contact with other species, but no sign of The Future had ever been found, and it was presumed lost. Neelix wondered how it had gotten this far out. Even back then, according to Seven of Nine, the Borg were active in the Delta Quadrant, along the most likely path the ship would’ve had to take to get from Talax to where the beacon had been found. “Perhaps the Talaxians found a wormhole that we missed,” Harry said. “Possible,” Seven said, “though the timeframe, based on our estimations of when the emergency beacon was deployed, would place the generation ship’s passage through Borg space at the height of our conflict with the El Aurians.” “How long did that last?” Neelix said. “Hundreds of years. Prior to Species 8472, the El Aurians proved the most difficult species to assimilate,” Seven said. “I’d always wondered about that,” Janeway said, “but El Aurians in the Alpha Quadrant are notoriously reluctant to talk about it. I hope they got a few good kicks in before they went down.” “While only a few hundred survived to make it to the Alpha Quadrant as refugees,” Seven said, “before the end they managed to destroy nearly a dozen cubes, more than half of them in the final year of the conflict.” “I apologize for interrupting,” Harry Kim said, “but I finished the translation of the message. The translation program Neelix gave me was a big help.” “So what happened?” Neelix asked. “Apparently there was an engine failure caused by their main computer. Apparently it was a very crude A.I. and, for want of a better phrase, lost its mind.” “I didn’t even know my people had ever tried to create artificial intelligences,” Neelix said, surprised. “When did this happen?” Janeway asked. “Only about fifty years ago, surprisingly,” Harry said. “The crew was able to get control back, but the computer shut down several dozen of the cryo pods, killing the occupants. The next paragraph is corrupted, I can’t tell what it says, but after that it says they sent the last of their probes out to find a suitable place to land.” “A lot of habitable planets between here and Rinax,” Tom said. “Wonder why they didn’t pick any of those.” Neelix shrugged. “Maybe they didn't want to settle any place that already had sentient life? That’s just a guess, don’t quote me.” “We won’t know until we find any of the crew’s descendants,” Janeway said. “If this was only fifty years ago, there’s a good chance we may find some. Seven, do a full long range scan. See where the most likely place the Talaxians would’ve ended up and give the data to Tom. Mister Paris, once you have a location, plot a course.” “Aye, Captain,” Tom said, while Seven simply nodded and manipulated the controls at her console.

---

“There is definitely an M-class planet on the other side of that asteroid field,” Samantha Wildman said, looking at her console while both Neelix and Captain Janeway looked over her shoulder. “And I’m pretty sure I’m getting lifesigns from it, but something in the field itself is interfering with the sensors.” “It is awfully dense,” Neelix said. “I don’t think I’ve seen an asteroid field that densely packed before.” “I have,” Janeway said, “but it’s not common, no argument here.” “I could dodge those rocks easily enough with Voyager,” Tom said, “but given that interference Sam’s talking about I’d rather not risk it.”

“Captain,” Sam said, “now that we’re closer, I’m thinking this interference might not be naturally occurring.” “Agreed,” Janeway said. “Which could mean the Talaxians set-up makeshift bases in the the larger asteroids. Or they could’ve settled that planet on the other side and are mining the asteroids. Either way, if there are survivors from The Future, we’ll find proof in that asteroid field. We’ll take Voyager around the field to go to the planet. A small team can take the Delta Flyer through the field itself. If nothing else, they can confirm if the interference is naturally occurring or not.”

“Captain,” Neelix said, “I’d like to be on the Flyer team.” “Why?” Captain Janeway asked. “Call it a gut feeling,” Neelix said. “If I’ve learned anything travelling with you Captain, it’s that it’s a good idea to listen to one’s instincts.”

As long as I don’t have to go, I’m happy, Samantha thought. Me, the Delta Flyer, and giant rocks? No thanks.

---

The Delta Flyer entered the asteroid field, and Neelix marvelled at how close together all the rocks were while not appearing to collide with each other. “I wonder if maybe someone put this here,” Neelix said to Lieutenant Ayala, who sat at the tactical console, while Tom Paris piloted the craft. “Just because it’s rare for asteroid fields to be this dense,” Ayala said, “doesn’t mean it’s not naturally occurring.” “Could be the debris from an exploded planet,” Tom said. “Last dense field like this I ever saw in the Alpha Quadrant had been a planet a thousand years before the Federation existed. Well, I only saw it in pictures taken by the Enterprise, but still.” “Sounds interesting,” Neelix said. “What happened?” “Well, there was this war between two ancient-” “Mister Paris,” Ayala said, “I’m picking up lifesigns at bearing 108, mark 26. They appear to be Talaxians. Hundreds of them, inside three of the larger rocks.” “Well, that answers one question,” Neelix said. “Can we hail them?”

Ayala touched a button, and waited. “No response. No sign they didn’t receive it, it looks like they’re ignoring us.” “Maybe if we try greeting them in Tal-” Neelix wasn’t able to finish his suggestion, as a loud noise, followed by the ship shuddering, cut him off. “What was that?” he said. “A thermalyte explosive,” Ayala said. “How close was that?” Tom said. “30.6 kilometers to port,” Ayala said. “If it was that close and shook us that little-”

A much more severe shudder passed through the ship. “That one was closer,” Ayala said. “Are these mines or did we accidentally stumble on the Talaxians blasting these rocks to get the raw materials?” A third shudder. “That one took out our shields,” Ayala said. “It threw the impulse drive out of alignment too.” “Switching to thrusters,” Tom said.

“The main Talaxian asteroid is close enough for us to make a landing,” Neelix said, looking at his own console. “If they’re doing this on purpose that might be a bad idea,” Tom said. Before anyone could reply there was another explosion, and the Delta Flyer shook so violently everyone was thrown forward painfully into their consoles. “Dammit, main propulsion is off-line,” Tom said. “I’m gonna have to put us down on that rock anyway before we crash into one without people who can help us fix the damage. Better get ready to do some fancy talking, Neelix.” The Delta Flyer jerked forward. Neelix watched the main viewport as the asteroid, structures sticking out one side of it, got closer and closer; much too fast for his liking.

“This landing’s gonna be a bit rough,” Tom said, “but if it’s any consolation, the Flyer’s been through worse.”

Upon impact, Neelix was knocked out his chair. He winced as his head hit something, and everything went black.

---

Neelix groaned as his eyes fluttered open. He heard before he saw the sound of a medical device, or at least what he hoped was a medical device, hovering centimeters above his head. When his vision cleared he saw a sight he hadn’t expected to ever see outside of old family photos or the holodeck.

A Talaxian. A woman, who held the device, sitting on the edge of the bed Neelix was in. “Stay still,” she said when neelix tried to sit up. “Don’t worry. It’s not serious.” Her bedside manner is about as warm as The Doctor’s used to be, Neelix thought.

“I’m inside the asteroid,” he said.

“Yes,” the female Talaxian said. “Where are my friends?” Neelix asked. “If you mean the aliens who were on the ship with you,” the female Talaxian said, in a tone that suggested she wasn’t using the word alien in the nicest sense of the word, “they’re safe.” Define safe. “I’d like to see them,” Neelix said.

“You need your rest,” the female Talaxian said, standing up quickly. “What were you doing in the asteroid field?” she asked as she placed the device on the table by the side of Neelix’s bed. “Looking for you, actually,” Neelix said. “We found the old beacon.” “Really? It still works after all this time?” “Yes,” Neelix said. “Our ship, Voyager, came across it, so we came to look for any survivors.”

“Well, here we are.” “I see. My name’s Neelix, by the way.” “Dexa,” the female Talaxian said. “It’s funny, I had an uncle named Neelix.” “Really? I had no idea my name stretched back that far. Your generation ship left so long ago it took us awhile to translate the message on the beacon.” Dexa looked puzzled. “Then how come I can understand you so plainly?”

Neelix pointed to his comm badge, which had been left on him. “It’s called a universal translator.” “Interesting,” Dexa said. “I’d like to know more about this translator, but first, I’m curious, are there any other Talaxians aboard your ship?” “No, just me,” Neelix said.

“Why are you living with aliens?” Dexa asked, her nose scrunched up as if she’d smelled something offensive. “They’re my friends,” Neelix said. He’d considered telling Dexa the truth; that he just didn’t like what the bulk of his people had become in recent years, and that apart from a few good friends he largely did not miss his people at all. He realized though that if the other Talaxians on this and the other two asteroids were as xenophobic as Dexa appeared to be, that would probably be the worst thing to say. “We attempted to contact you from our shuttle,” he said instead. “Did you receive our hails?” “Yes,” Dexa said. “Why didn’t you respond?” “We avoid contact with outsiders,” Dexa said. “There were explosions,” Neelix said. “Did you-” “No,” Dexa said. “Not deliberately, I mean. We were making holes in the surface of those particular rocks to start mining them for resources. They weren’t supposed to go off so soon though. Perhaps something from your shuttle triggered them early. My turn to ask a question now. Why were you and your.. Friends, carrying weapons?” “Standard procedure for an away mission,” Neelix said. “On stun of course.” “Stun? Non-lethal energy weapons? I didn’t even know such a thing was possible.” “Oh, absolutely,” Neelix said. “We had weapons similar to phasers on Talax not too long after The Future left. We never got as good at mass producing them as Starfleet did though, so they fell out of favor after a while.” “Starfleet?” “Oh, the organization our ship belongs to. Our ship is called Voyager by the way. The shuttle that crashed is called the Delta Flyer.” “Is Starfleet a military organization?” Neelix thought about that for a moment. “Sort of, but not really. It’s like a hybrid of a military organization, a scientific one, and a diplomatic corp. There’s no real analog to it in Talaxian history, so that’s the best way I can explain it.” Neelix thought he saw someone moving behind Dexa, so he shifted. He smiled when he saw a child, holding some kind of toy, peeking around the corner of the entrance into the room. “Hi there,” Neelix said. “What’s your name?”

Dexa looked confused, but then turned around when the child responded. “Brax,” he said. “What’s yours?” “I told you not to come in here,” Dexa said, bending down to look the child in the eyes as she took his hands. “I wanted to see him,” Brax said. “You’re supposed to be helping Oxilon,” Dexa said. “He doesn’t look dangerous to me,” Brax said, an inquisitive look on his face not too dissimilar to the one Naomi Wildman would get when she was convinced that adults were not telling her the whole story about something.

I guess some things are just universal, Neelix thought.

“I think you might have the wrong idea about us,” Neelix said. “I’m not supposed to be talking to you at all,” Dexa said.”

Neelix had a suspicion about the room he was in. He stood up. “I’m feeling better,” he said, which was mostly true. His head still hurt, but it was a dull pain. He’d been through much worse. This year, even. “I think I should go see my friends now.” Dexa stepped back and touched something that was out of sight, and a force field visibly snapped into place. Yep, I’m in a cell, Neelix thought. Not a terrible one though, I’ll give it that. The bed is comfy. “I’ve been told not to let you leave,” Dexa said. The look on her face was all too familiar to Neelix. He’d seen looks like that before, on those among his people who’d bought the propaganda about the Haakonians “hook, line and sinker,” as Tom would say.

They’re repeating the same mistakes their descendants made back on Talax, he thought sadly. I suppose I should be grateful there isn’t an alien race nearby for them to launch an unprovoked war against.

---

“Captain,” Harry said, “there’s a ship approaching from astern. We’re being hailed.” “Good,” Janeway said. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and they can explain why we lost contact with the Flyer. On screen.”

“Identify yourselves,” the captain of the other vessel said. He wasn’t Talaxian, that was for sure.

“I’m Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation starship Voyager,” Janeway said.

“Commander Nocona,” the other ship’s captain said, his tone immediately shifting to one more polite than the one he’d had when asking for identification.

Perhaps in his culture it’s acceptable to be rude to people if you don’t know their names, she thought. “I request to know why you sent a vessel into the asteroid field,” Nocona continued. Janeway gave the thumbnail version of how Voyager had ended up here, and how they’d hoped to make contact with the Talaxians. “Ah, I see,” Nocona said. “Perhaps your friend, this Neelix, can convince the Talaxians to move on.” “Assuming he’s alive,” Janeway said. “We registered multiple explosions in the field and lost contact with our shuttle.”

“Likely just mining charges,” Nocona said. “The Talaxians have never been violent. Smug and verbally abusive, but not violent. Your shuttle likely just got too close.” “I take it you’ve had problems with them before,” Janeway said. “Ever since they came to our world seeking shelter years ago,” Nocana said. “But for now, if you require our assistance, our ship is more heavily armored than yours. We have few weapons, this is a patrol ship, but if any charges go off we won’t be harmed.” Janeway appreciated that the alien captain was being so direct with her. It was something she wished were more common in this quadrant. “If I may ask, what exactly were the problems the Talaxians caused?” “To be fair,” Nocona said, “it’s largely the younger generation, those born after their ship arrived, that are the issue; they settled in that asteroid field without permission and began mining resources that by rights belonged to us as the field is in our solar system. As it stands, we have no way to remove them without violence, and neither the government nor the public wants that.”

Oh great, Janeway thought. We stumbled into a political mess. I’d hoped we wouldn’t have another one of those for a good long time.

---

Neelix heard a noise, and turned to see Brax standing on the other side of the force field with a weapon that was clearly too big for him to be using. If it wasn’t a dangerous weapon, the site of him trying to look intimidating with it would be amusing.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to be here,” Neelix said. “This is my home,” Brax said. “You can’t tell me what to do.” “No, I suppose I can’t,” Neelix said. “I just don’t want you to get in trouble.”

Brax moved the object in his arms and Neelix realized he’d made an error. It was a not a weapon at all, the child had just been handling whatever it was like one. “What’s that?” Neelix said. “A model ship,” Brax said. “Really? A Talaxian one?” “You don’t recognize it?” “Our people’s ships haven’t looked like that for a long time,” Neelix said, trying to get a better look at the model. “I think I saw something like that in a museum once though, on Rinax.” “People live on Rinax now?” Brax said. Neelix winced. “Well, they did, but something bad happened. It’s complicated, and sad to say it was kind of our own fault. Maybe I can explain it to you later.” “I overheard you tell my mother your ship was named Voyager,” Brax said. “Is it big?” “Not as big as the ship your ancestors came to this asteroid field on, but she’s a decent sized ship,” Neelix said. “But she is fast. Nothing faster than her within a hundred light years, I bet.” There was a clanging noise, and Brax gasped. “That’s my mother.” “Well you better hide then,” Neelix said. “You won’t tell her I’m here?” “No, of course not,” Neelix said. Brax ran off. Another clanging noise followed by footsteps drew Neelix’s attention to his right, and he saw Dexa walk in with a male Talaxian, who had to duck slightly to get through the door. Neelix was pretty sure he’d never seen a Talaxian that tall before, and figured that it must’ve had something to do with having been born in lower gravity environments.

“Neelix,” Dexa said, “this is Oxilon, our Council Regent.”

“I wish I could say it was nice to meet you,” Neelix said, “but this isn’t exactly the welcome I was expecting.” “You’re free to go now,” Oxilon said, touching a button. The force field dropped and Neelix walked forward. He looked at Oxilon, expecting him to say something else, but he gave no indication he planned to. “What about my friends?” Neelix said. “We’ve determined they’re not hostile,” Oxilon said. “They’ve been treated for their injuries and asked to leave.” “They’re aboard your shuttle, making repairs,” Dexa said. “I’ll take you to them.” “Well,” Neelix said, “now that everything’s been cleared up, maybe we could talk? Get to know each other a little?” “If you’d like,” Oxilon said, though he sounded to Neelix like he was just humoring him. Probably figures the faster he gets me to talk the faster he can get me to leave, Neelix thought.

“My friends too?” “No,” Oxilon said. “May I ask why not?” “We’ve learned to keep to ourselves,” Oxilon said. “Oh. Well, if they’re not welcome, I’m not staying either,” Neelix said. “I had just hoped…”

“Hoped what?” Oxilon said. “This may be my last chance to speak to any Talaxians before Voyager reaches the Alpha Quadrant,” Neelix said. “That’s where my friends are from. Long story. I may not have left Talaxian space under the best of terms, but-” “Were you a criminal?” Dexa said. Oxilon glared at her, and she sheepishly looked at the floor. “No,” Neelix said. “Well, my government certainly thinks I am, but I’d be lying if I said I cared.” Oxilon looked confused at that comment. “I’m going to go see my friends,” Neelix said, choosing not to elaborate. He felt put off in Oxilon’s presence, like the man only tolerated being the same room as him because they were both Talaxians. Neelix knew that kind of attitude all too well; had seen it in his own home in the run-up to the war with the Haakonians. He’d heard it in Dexa’s voice earlier that day, but had hoped that she was an outlier. “Escort him,” Oxilon said to Dexa, then unceremoniously turned and left. “I apologize,” Dexa said once the door closed. “I know he seems overly cautious, but we’re not used to having visitors. Brax is young enough to have never seen a non-Talaxian before.” “I was curious about that,” Neelix said. “Our ship picked up what looked like, at least from where we were, a perfectly livable M-Class planet on the opposite side of the field from us.” “That’s the homeworld of the Badoon,” Dexa said with a hint of contempt in her voice.

“Did they mistreat you?” Neelix said. “Not directly, no,” Dexa said. “It was more subtle than that. But I’d rather not talk about them right now.”

“How many of you live here?” Neelix asked. “Close to 500 here,” Dexa said, “about a hundred each on the other two asteroids.” She sighed. “And there are a dozen or so who chose to stay with the Badoon, but we don’t talk of them much.”

“From a ship that had 1300 people in stasis?” Neelix said. “The beacon said some of them were killed when the generation ship’s computer went bad, but-” “Few of the survivors had children,” Dexa said. “Procreation has been placed on hold until we can hollow out another asteroid. None of the children you see running around were actually conceived here, though a few were born here.”

“It must’ve taken years to build all of this,” Neelix said.

“Almost five,” Dexa said, pride in her voice. “We had to completely scrap The Future, and, well, borrow some Badoon tools to get it done, but we did it. Mostly. There are some places that aren’t at a hundred percent yet. If you look over there you can see our medical bay. My husband designed that.”

“I’d like to meet him,” Neelix said. Dexas sighed. “He’s dead.” “Oh,” Neelix said. “I’m sorry. I… I suffered a loss recently myself, though yours is certainly-” “I’m not… I don’t feel like talking about it, right now. Your friends are just this way,” Dexa said, leading Neelix down a neatly excavated cave. Neelix saw the Delta Flyer. It looked pretty scraped up on the outside, but he imagined that Tom was going to save fixing the non-essential parts until they returned to Voyager. The priority would be engines and life support. He stepped inside. “Neelix,” Tom said. “Good to see you. They told me you were okay but wouldn't let us check in on you.” “Yeah, they seem to be really shy about aliens around here,” Neelix said. “Dexa, this is Tom Paris. And this is Ayala.” “Given name or surname?” Dexa asked.

“I don’t really talk about that,” Ayala said. Dexa looked confused for a moment but shrugged it off. “Okay then,” she said. “It was nice to meet you.” She turned and exited the ship before anyone could reply. “Guess that was as much politeness as she could muster for the day,” Tom said,. “So, what can I do to help?” Neelix said. “Well, you can help me with this plasma manifold,” Tom said. “How’d it go by the way?” “I didn’t exactly get a welcoming committee,” Neelix said. “I was in a cell for most of the time I was recovering. I get the feeling their leader doesn’t like me very much.” “You sound disappointed,” Ayala said. “Yeah,” Neelix admitted. “I guess my expectations were a little high. I’d just assumed that since they were the descendants of people who left Talax before our society went bad they’d be more open minded. A shame really. This could be the last time I ever see another Talaxian, and they remind me so much of why I was so willing to leave them behind and travel with you in the first place.” “We’ll probably be another night,” Tom said. “I’m sure you can meet a few more before we go. Here’s your phaser back by the way.” “Thanks,” Neelix said. “And maybe you’re right. Maybe I’ll meet a Talaxian who’s not as stiff and xenophobic as Oxilon. That would be a nice way to remember my people.” After another hour of work, the lights inside the Flyer flickered back to life, and the consoles were active again. “There we go,” Tom said. “Now we just need to run a systems-” “Intruder alert,” the computer said. “Well, at least we know internal sensors are working,” Tom said, as Ayala pulled out his phaser and moved towards the rear compartment. Neelix followed him, hand near his own phaser.

The lights in the rear compartment were still out, so the two of them descended the steps slowly. Neelix took out his tricorder with his other hand and did a quick scan. He chuckled when he saw the lifesigns he were picking up from behind a panel were Talaxian. “I think I can guess who this is,” he said. “You can come out, Brax.”

The child climbed out of his hiding place, and touched a button on a panel that turned the lights back on. Ayala lowered his phaser. “Friend of yours?” he said. “Dexa’s son,” Neelix said. “You said you’d take me to see Voyager,” Brax said. “I said no such thing,” Neelix said. “I told you she was a good ship, not that I’d bring you aboard. Besides, your mother wouldn’t approve. Now come on, I’ll walk you home.”

Brax didn’t argue, something Neelix was grateful for. He realized that child rearing was not really something he had that much experience in. He’d been spoiled in a sense, the only children he’d really been around as an adult were Naomi, who matured rapidly as a result of her mixed parentage, and Icheb, who had matured rapidly as a result of the Borg. He was ill equipped to deal with a tantrum if it were to come to that. “Okay,” Brax said. “I’ll be right back,” Neelix said to Ayala. The two walked back the way Dexa had brought Neelix before. Before he could reach Dexa’s home, however, he saw Oxilon arguing with an alien he didn’t recognize. “They’re free to leave once their ship is repaired,” Oxilon said. “I’d like to confirm that for myself,” the alien said. “I’m sure it is what their captain, Janeway, would do if she were here. Assuming you didn’t try to blow up her ship with mining charges of course.” “How dare-” “Excuse me,” Neelix said, waving. “Hi. I’m Neelix, the Talaxian member of Janeway’s crew. You’ve spoken with Voyager?”

The alien nodded. “Commander Nocona,” he said. “You must be Neelix. Are the other members of your team harmed?” “You know this… thug?” Oxilon said. “Calm down,” Neelix said. “Commander, may I ask why no one from my crew is here?” “Our ship is better shielded against explosions from mining charges,” Nocana said. “And with good reason,” he added, glaring at Oxilon. “Captain Janeway agreed to let us come for you.” “Right,” Oxilon said dismissively, “and I’m sure intimidating us with how thick your ship’s armor is had nothing to do with it. You’re trying to scare us into giving up the asteroids again.” Nocona groaned. “Believe what you want, Oxilon. My people own the rights to these minerals, and we will get them back. Without violence. You’ll see.” “Well, Commander,” Neelix said, “our shuttle is almost repaired. We’ll be able to leave on our own in a few hours. Our communications array is still damaged, so perhaps you could tell Captain Janeway-” “Yes, do so. Once you leave,” Oxilon said, sounding like he was trying to make a threat. “Very well,” Nocona said. “Good day to you, Mister Neelix.” “Thank you,” Neelix said. Once Nocona was gone, Neelix was about to tell Brax to head on home when Oxilon rushed him with unexpected speed and shoved him against a wall. “Why did that Badoon know who you were?!”

“You heard him,” Neelix said. “He spoke to my captain.” “You expect me to believe that?” Oxilon said. Neelix saw a crowd gathering. Some smiled, as if silently cheering on Oxilon or maybe hoping for a fight. Other just shook their heads, like disappointed parents. “Yes, because it’s true,” Neelix said, finally shoving back. “He’s a Badoon then? Seems nice enough. Why do you really have a problem with them? I get the feeling there’s more going on than asteroid mining rights.” “Get out,” Oxilon said. “Get back to your ship and leave us alone.” “I know that look,” Neelix shouted at Oxilon’s back as he walked away. “It’s the look our leaders on Talax had on their faces when they argued for a war based on lies. Now, I don’t know what’s going on with you and the Badoon, but if I look into it, who’s really going to be the bad guys here?” “Go home,” Oxilon said. “Go to your alien friends.” There were murmurs among the crowd as Oxilon walked away. Neelix got the feeling that most, but not all of the people here were completely on Oxilon’s side. He took a small amount of comfort in that.

---

“I think I can see why they’re so suspicious of outsiders,” Tom said when Neelix told him what had just happened. “Did the kid make it home safe at least?” “Yeah,” Neelix said, looking frustrated. “It’s good to know the Badoon were willing to help the Captain,” Ayala said, “but we don’t have the full context for what’s been going on between them and the Talaxians here.” “I think we do, at least a little,” Neelix said. Tom was about to ask what Neelix meant, but the latter continued as if anticipating that question. “Oxilon never actually denied what Nocona said was true. I think that except for a few stragglers, the survivors from the generation ship and their children and grandchildren settled these asteroid without permission from the race that holds the mining rights to them. It would be like if someone just walked into your quarters, set up a tent, and threatened you if you tried to kick them out.” “Plausible, sure,” Tom said, “but there’s decades worth of context we don’t have, like Ayala said.”

Neelix sighed. “Yeah, you’re right,” he said. Tom put a hand on Neelix’s shoulder. “I’m sorry this trip didn’t turn out like you hoped, Neelix. I really am.” “Thanks, Tom,” Neelix said.

Tom was about to say it was time to go, when a noise from his console alerted him to someone standing just outside the entrance to the Delta Flyer. He checked his monitor, and saw Dexa, and a young boy, presumably Brax. “Looks like you’ve got visitors, Neelix,” Tom said. Neelix came over and looked at the monitor. He shrugged. “Go ahead and let them in,” he said. “No problem,” Tom said, pushing a button to open the door remotely. When the two Talaxians made their way to the cockpit, Neelix asked them why they were there. “Brax told me about what happened,” Dexa said, “and I thought you deserved to hear our side of the story. Oxilon, he, can let his anger cloud his judgement sometimes, even though he’s been a good leader for us overall.” “Okay,” Neelix said. “I’m willing to listen.”

“Actually,” Dexa said, “I’d like to talk to your Captain, if I could. If your ship is as powerful as I imagine it based on what I’ve gleamed from scanning your shuttle-”

“Wait, you were scanning us?” Tom said. “Of course,” Dexa said. “Security precaution.” “It’s what I would do,” Ayala said. “My point is,” Dexa continued, “if your Captain is going to be working with the Badoon in any capacity, she deserves to know the truth.” Neelix didn’t seem to like the idea very much, but rather than say no himself he turned to Tom. Oh great, make the buck stop with me. Thanks, Neelix, he thought. Minus sarcasm he said aloud, “Well, okay, but I don’t think there’s going to be much need. I’m pretty sure that once she knows her team and the Flyer are okay we’ll just be moving on.” “Or maybe, once she hears about what we’ve gone through, she’ll be willing to help us.” I doubt that, Tom thought. “Okay,” Tom said, “but I won’t promise anything more than asking her to speak with you.”

---

Captain Janeway looked up when Neelix and the Talaxian woman named Dexa walked into her ready room. “Hello, Dexa,” Janeway said, standing up and offering her hand. “Neelix told me you’d be coming. Where’s your son?” “He’s playing with… what was her name?” Dexa said. “Naomi Wildman,” Neelix said. “With Samantha and Seven’s permission of course.” “So strange,” Dexa said, “to see a cyborg so well adjusted. Granted, we never had any real cyborgs on Talax, only ones in stories, but they were always cautionary tales. This Seven of Nine though seems like a perfectly normal humanoid.” “There still aren’t any cyborgs on Talax,” Neelix said, “but that’s mainly because we don’t really have that level of technology yet.” “Neelix says you have something you wanted to discuss with me about the Badoon?” Janeway said. Of course, this was all a polite formality. Neelix had warned her ahead of time that he had concerns that the Talaxians in the asteroid field were unnecessarily mistrusting of the Badoon.

Dexa went on to explain in great detail about what had happened to The Future, though Janeway already knew some of that from the beacon. “When the Badoon found our ship, they brought us here, to their world. They set aside some farmland for us, but wouldn’t interact with us for years. I was born under what they called ‘quarantine.’ But it was just an excuse, they didn’t want outsiders mixing with their people.” “But,” Neelix said, “you told me that a few Talaxians still live on the Badoon homeworld. Are they still in quarantine?” “Well, no…” “Dexa,” Neelix continued, Janeway deciding it best not to interrupt. “You weren’t born yet. Is it at all possible that it really was a quarantine? I mean, there are procedures for first contact with new species aboard this ship too.” Dexa looked hurt that Neelix would think that. “My husband died on one of those farms,” she said.

“Did the Badoon kill him?” Janeway said. “No,” Dexa said reflexively. Then paused. “I mean… it is their fault but…” “Do you really think that,” Neelix said, taking Dexa’s hand in his, “or is that Oxilon talking?” “Please,” Janeway said, “Dexa, tell the rest of your story.” Dexa nodded. “It wasn’t long before we realized there wasn’t enough land to feed all of us, especially once babies started being born. Our leader at the time, Oxilon’s uncle, told us we would just have to conserve resources.”

“That doesn’t sound very unreasonable,” Janeway said. “Was any attempt made to negotiate with the Badoon for more land?” Dexa looked down. “In the past, whenever children asked me about our time there I’d say no, but what Neelix just said… I don’t know, truly. Many have said that we tried and failed, but some of the elders claim that we tried to take land from poorer Badoon citizens. I never believed it before, but why does it seem so plausible to me now?” “I imagine meeting Neelix had something to do with it,” Janeway said. “He’s giving you a perspective you’d never considered before. Back on Earth we have a saying. ‘A fresh pair of eyes.’ It doesn’t literally mean replacing your eyes of course, it means that sometimes getting input from someone who hasn’t been directly involved with a thing long enough to form a bias can be very valuable.” Dexa nodded. “Tell me more,” Neelix said, “about what happened to your husband.” “He didn’t like being told what to do by Badoon authorities, so he started farming outside the restricted zone. The owner of the land killed him.” “What happened to the landowner?” Dexa wiped a tear away from her eye. “He was arrested,” she said. “Oxilon liked to tell me that they only did it to save face, but now I wonder if that’s true. The Badoon imprisoned him on grounds of unnecessary use of lethal force. I remember now, they told me that the landowner killed my husband after only one warning, and there was no sign my husband had used violence. I never thought to find out but…” Dexa stopped for a moment and looked up at the ceiling, “Yes, I think it’s possible he’s still in prison.”

Neelix put a hand on Dexa’s shoulder. Janeway stood up and walked around to do the same on the other shoulder. “Oxilon is going to get you killed,” Neelix said. “I’ve seen this happen before.” “What do you mean?” Dexa said. “Years ago, when I was a young man, the Talaxian people launched a war against a people called the Haakonians. They’d done nothing to us, but the government spent months convincing the people they were an imminent threat. A few people like me saw through the lies though, and fled the system before we could be drafted to fight. Our people were ruthless. Killed civilians without any concern or remorse. Eventually, as an act of desperation, the Haakonians used a weapon of mass destruction on our colony on Rinax. The moon had been terraformed nearly a century after The Future left, but our colony there is gone now. Including my family.” “And you aren’t angry at the Haakonians?” “I was, for a little while,” Neelix admitted, “but in the end, that weapon would never have even been built let alone used if our aggression hadn’t driven them to it.” “And you see that kind of aggression in Oxilon,” Dexa said. It wasn’t a question. “I do,” Neelix said. Dexa cried, and Janeway felt for her. She had no idea what it felt like to grow up surrounded by xenophobia your whole life, but she had some experience with being lied to so she could empathize at least. She looked at Neelix. “So, what now?”

“I don’t know, Captain,” Neelix said. “I’m really worried, like I said. But at the same time, what can I do? Oxilon seems so dead set on hating the Badoon for perceived injustices there’s no way we could get him to come to a negotiating table.” “We can talk to him together,” Dexa said. “He listens to me, sometimes. He helped take care of me and Brax when we came to the asteroid.”

Neelix looked at Janeway. “It’s worth a shot,” she said. She watched as Neelix and Dexa left her ready room together, and sighed. She wasn’t completely sure, but she had a nagging feeling that when Voyager left this region of space, they would be leaving without Neelix. And the possibility filled her with so many mixed emotions, she decided to forego her afternoon coffee and asked the replicator to give her tea instead.

---

“This is what Talaxian ships look like these days?” Dexa said as she and Brax climbed into Neelix’s ship. “On, no,” Neelix said. “This one’s older and smaller than most. Still, we’ve been through alot together. Some of those superficial scratches on the hull you might’ve seen on the way in? Some of those the old crate got without even having to leave Voyager’s shuttlebay.” Neelix continued his pre-flight check, glad he’d taken Tom’s advice to keep in practice despite the fact he rarely left Voyager with it, especially since they left the sector of the Delta Quadrant he’d known the best a mere three years into their journey. “Why are we taking your ship to the asteroid?” Dexa asked. “Lieutenant Ayala and Commander Tuvok convinced me that a ship with a Talaxian signature would be less likely to get mining charges blown up in it’s face. Deliberately anyway. Plus, Voyager’s too far away to use transporters if I need to leave in a hurry.” “You think Oxilon will try to hurt you?” Brax said. “It’s possible,” Neelix said. “Though I hope it won’t come to that.”

“Shuttle control to Neelix, you’re cleared for launch,” Harry Kim’s voice said over the ship’s comm. “We’re just about ready, Harry,” Neelix said. “Good luck,” Harry said. “Thanks,” Neelix said. I’ll need it, he thought. He strapped in after helping Brax and Dexa do the same. The inertial dampeners were in excellent shape of course, but if there were any shockwaves or some other cause to do evasive maneuvers, best not to risk the child getting thrown around into walls.

The trip to the main asteroid was less dramatic than the Delta Flyer’s had been, much to Neelix’s relief, but it had taken informing the Talaxian that Oxilon had left in charge of communications that he was returning two of his people to convince him to allow a landing. When the three stepped off the ship, Oxilon and two armed men waited for them. “I was ready to fear the worst,” Oxilon said. “That you had kidnapped them. I am relieved to see I was wrong. Thank you for bringing them home. You can go now, Neelix.” “Not yet,” Neelix said. “You and I need to have a conversation about your situation here in the asteroid field and the Badoon mining rights.” “What is there to say about it?” Oxilon said. “They had no people and only a smattering of probes to take samples here. It was open territory based on every space law I know of.” “I believe a peaceful solution can be found,” Neelix said, “but it needs to happen now, before you antagonize them too much. There’s no popular support on Badoon for just forcing you out right now, but I doubt that’ll hold forever.” “We’ll be more than ready to defend ourselves,” Oxilon said. “We’ve got mining charges on rocks with low ore count, we can use them to force back any potential invasion.” “You can’t be serious,” Dexa said. “If we damage or worse destroy their ships, they’ll bring a whole fleet to bear on us. Neelix was right, your ways are going to get us killed.” “Have the aliens been poisoning your mind, Dexa?” Oxilon said. “No, that would be you,” Dexa said. “Filling it with hate. The Badoon aren’t perfect, they’ve done things they shouldn’t, and I will never forgive the one who murdered my husband but we can’t keep living like this. We can co-exist with them if we make a real effort.” “Nonsense,” Oxilon said. “They’re aliens. It’s what aliens always do in the end.”

“How would you know?” Neelix said. “How many other species besides the Badoon had you met before the Delta Flyer crashed here?” Oxilon was moved to silence by that. The guards looked even more furtive, one even lowering his weapon as he appeared to contemplate what was being said. “The Badoon have traded with other worlds before,” Oxilon said. “My uncle told me he’d sometimes see other aliens at the spaceports on Badoon. And he said they always looked at Talaxians like we were less than them.” “Maybe that’s just how he interpreted it,” Neelix said. “There’s a race in the Federation, the government that Voyager belongs to, called the Bolians. In their language, the word Frederick is a vulgarity. Among the most offensive words a native Bolian speaker could use. But to humans, the word Frederick is an uncommon but not rare name given to boys upon their birth. And yet, despite this, the humans and Bolians have gotten along for over a century. In fact, Bolians are one of the most common races to be found on Federation ships, apart from Humans, Vulcans, and Betazoids. How could your uncle, who had so little experience with aliens, automatically know what their facial expressions would mean, especially after only a few encounters?” At some point during the conversation, a crowd had gathered. Quietly enough that Neelix had actually failed to notice while he was maintaining eye contact with Oxilon.

“Tell them about Rinax,” Dexa said. “Rinax?” Brax said. “It was one of our moons,” Dexa told Brax. “back from the system our ancestors came from before they ended up here.” “What’s this about Rinax? What is she talking about?” Oxilon said. Neelix told Oxilon, and the whole crowd, everything, including details he’d not shared with Dexa aboard Voyager. Some of the crowd looked shocked and horrified, though if it was at the war, or Neelix’s refusal to fight he couldn’t be certain. The angry ones though, them he was pretty sure resented Neelix for refusing to fight. “That won’t happen here,” Oxilon said. “If the Badoon just let us keep this asteroid field, there need not be any bloodshed.” Some of the gathered crowd shouted at him. “You had us set up mines!” one Talaxian yelled. “You’ve been telling us the Badoon are savages for years but we’ve never seen them actually do anything!” another shouted. Some other Talaxians began shouting back at the shouters, defending Oxilon, but as best Neelix could tell from the din they were the minority. Oxilon was losing the crowd, Neelix could tell. He dared not push his luck though. I didn’t think it would be this easy, Neelix thought. I can’t afford to tempt fate. “Get off my asteroid!” Oxilon shouted at him, taking a gun from one of the guards standing next to him, causing gasps to ripple through the crowd.

“Leave him alone!” a Talaxian woman Neelix couldn't see yelled. “Send him back to his alien friends!” a man shouted. Brax tried to get in between Neelix and Oxilon, but Dexa grabbed him and struggled to hold him back. Neelix took a deep breath and walked forward. He had not planned to say what he was about to say next, but the words came to him anyway. He hesitated to say them, knowing there was no walking back from it, and already feeling the guilt starting to well up at the thought of abandoning his crew of the past seven years, especially when they had not yet recovered from the loss of Commander Chakotay. “No,” he said to Oxilon, quietly hoping that the angry Talaxian in front of him wouldn’t fire. “I’m staying. I’m staying, and I’m going to do whatever it takes to make sure that what happened to Rinax doesn’t happen here.”

Oxilon snarled at him, so angry that he appeared to forget what kind of weapon he was holding and swung it at Neelix instead of trying to shoot him.

Neelix did not have the best rating with a hand phaser on Voyager, even after having done some training with Tuvok, but he was good enough to pull it out and fire it at Oxilon, stunning him. “He’s not dead,” Neelix shouted, holding up this phaser. “This weapon has a stun setting. He’ll wake up shortly.” The guards who had been flanking Oxilon seemed unsure what to do. Dexa walked up to them. Neelix had to admit to himself he found her confidence in that moment inspiring, and even a little attractive. “Take him to his room,” she said, pointing at Oxilon. “He is not under arrest, but don’t let him have a weapon. I think we can still convince him to see reason, and if he does that will only make him a better leader.” That last part was directed more at the crowd than the guards. Eventually, the crowd cleared, leaving Neelix alone on the landing bay with Dexa and Brax. “So,” Dexa said, “now what?” “Now,” Neelix said, sadness in his voice, “I go and say goodbye to my friends.”

---

There were times when Captain Janeway hated being right, and as she finished her personal log entry about her mixed emotions regarding Neelix’s impending departure, this was one of those times. She’d seen this coming the moment Neelix told Dexa about Rinax and the Metreon Cascade, but a part of her had thought, or maybe hoped, that Neelix would stick around. It was unsurprising that Naomi had, according to Samantha, been the one to take the news the hardest. She’d grown up with Neelix. He was her godfather after all, and up until the time when the little girl was mature enough to walk around the ship unsupervised and until Seven of Nine entered her life, she’d spent more time with him than anyone apart from her mother.

That didn’t mean that anyone was happy to see him leave, though. She heard the chime noise, and said “Enter.”

She looked up, surprised to see Brian Sofin enter her ready room. “Mister Sofin,” she said, “I wasn’t aware we had a meeting today.” “We didn’t, Captain,” he said. “In fact we haven’t really spoken much beyond the odd ‘good morning’ since the last time I was on this deck, two years ago.” “When I stripped you of you rank, yes, I remember,” Janeway said. “You’ve done a good job since then. I know I’ve failed to make that clear, but I’m really proud of how well all of you from the Equinox, even Angelo Tassoni, have integrated into this crew.”

“Thank you, Captain, but that’s not why I’m here,” Sofin said. “It’s about Neelix.” Janeway nodded. “I’d heard the two of you had become good friends,” she said. “But if you want me to try and talk him out of leaving…” “No, Captain,” Sofin said. “I mean, I’m requesting permission to stay as well.” “I’m sorry, what?” “He told me what the situation on those asteroids is like, Captain, and it seems to me that if this Oxilon has as many supporters as Neelix thinks he does, and if they’re angry enough…” “You want to be Neelix’s bodyguard,” Janeway said, deducing where the young man was going with this. “I appreciate the thought, but what about your family in the Alpha Quadrant?” Sofin looked down, the most ashamed he’d looked since after the Equinox had been destroyed. “I can’t face them, Captain,” Sofin said. “With what I did, what I was party too. My parents are pacifists to the core. They didn’t even fight the Dominion. Not that they oppose self-defense mind you, just, well, I mean Mom’s a fifth generation member of the diplomatic corp. Her great-grandfather was the first Federation ambassador to set foot on the Gorn homeworld. And Dad, Dad’s a xenobiologist. He studied creatures like the ones we killed for fuel.”

“You think they won’t forgive you?” “They already did,” Sofin said. “I got letters from them through the Midas array. They say they understand I was in a difficult situation, and that I never actually killed one of the Ankari Spirit of Good Fortune directly but…” Janeway was tempted to just reject the request outright, but looking at the man standing at attention before her, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Mostly because she realized she couldn’t think of a good reason to. “What do you want me to tell your parents?” she said. “Tell them that I’m staying behind to help protect a friend,” Sofin said. “And that I hope one day that I can reach a point where I can forgive myself for letting them down by agreeing to help Captain Ransom kill those creatures. Tell them that I’m looking for a second chance to be someone that Paul and Elisa Sofin can be proud to call their son.” Janeway smiled a sad smile. “I think you already are, Brian,” she said. “The ceremony for Neelix’s departure is at 1300 hours tomorrow. It’ll be in the shuttlebay, by Neelix’s ship.” “Thank you, Captain,” Brian Sofin said, smiling as he left. Janeway sighed. “Shit, might as well update the log entry.”

---

Seven of Nine, holding one of Naomi’s hands while Samantha held the other, thought back on some of her experiences with Neelix. She found that, even when she thought about some of the more annoying ones, like him trying to get her to try foods she wasn’t interested in, or his early attempts to convince her to go by her birth name, she was still going to miss him. Sam and Naomi seemed to be using all their strength to keep from crying. They’d known him longer than she had, so the reaction was not unexpected.

She looked at Icheb, who luckily seemed to be taking it better than most. He said he was going to miss hearing old Talaxian stories, but that he felt that what Neelix was doing was admirable enough to warrant celebration rather than sadness. Seven decided she’d explain it to him later.

The door to the shuttle bay opened, and Captain Janeway gave the order to stand at attention. Everyone did, even Naomi and Icheb. Not every crew member could fit in the shuttlebay of course, but as many as could fit were here for the send off. Janeway and Brian Sofin, whose announced departure had been as shocking to the crew as Neelix’s, stood by Neelix’s old ship. Neelix walked in, looking at everyone, saying goodbye to each crew member, a Starfleet issue duffel bag over his shoulders. Seven realized that without any warning, she was ready to cry too, and had to choke back a sob when, after shaking Marla Gilmore’s hand and giving a Live Long and Prosper salute to Tuvok and Vorik, he walked up to Seven, Sam, and the kids. “Good luck, Neelix,” Sam said. Naomi grabbed Neelix in a big hug while Icheb shook his hand and offered him some tips on how to spot possible assassination attempts. I’ll have to find out how he knows that, Seven thought. “You know,” Neelix said, “I think the four of you are gonna be the ones I miss the most. It’s been a pleasure to watch you become a family.”

“Thank you,” Seven said. “It has been a pleasure knowing you. Even the times when you could be… vexing, proved valuable to my learning how to be more human.”

Sam, Naomi, and Neelix all laughed at that comment, and Seven smiled. “Neelix,” Captain Janeway said. “Before you go, I have one last gift for you.” She motioned to Lieutenants Ayala and Anderson who lifted a crate and carried it onto Neelix’s ship. “What is it?” Neelix said. Seven stepped forward. “It is a small version of the technology that allows this ship two-way communication with Starfleet,” she said. “It is limited unfortunately. Much like our own communications prior to Project Watson, it’ll only be usable every 31 days. However, it will allow you to contact us as well. And if we make it to the Alpha Quadrant sooner than projected by any means, be it new technology, or wormhole, or some other phenomena, we’ll be able to let you know.” “That’s amazing!” Neelix said. “Thank you so much, I don’t even know where to start with how much I appreciate this.” Janeway stepped forward, and gave Neelix a hug. “Show your appreciation by saving this Talaxian colony from making the same mistakes your homeworld did. Show it by surviving. Show it by bringing the Talaxians and the Badoon together. That’s an order, Mister,” she added with a smile. Neelix saluted the Captain. “I won’t let you down, Captain.” Neelix turned around and looked at the gathered crew. “Goodbye, my friends.” He waved at everyone, and turned and climbed into his ship, Brian Sofin walking in with his own duffel bag on his shoulders. Ayala and Anderson exited and retook their places in the procession. Everyone stepped back as the ship’s engines powered up and began to move towards the open shuttle bay door. They all watched quietly as it passed through the force field out into the stars. Seven leaned against Samantha, who kissed her on the the cheek. “I’m sure he’ll be fine, Annie. They both will.” “I agree,” Seven said. “I’m surprised Jaffen wasn’t here,” Seven overheard Tom say. “He didn’t know Neelix that well,” Janeway said, shrugging. “At least that was his excuse. I get the feeling he’s not a fan of farewell ceremonies. Which is fair. Plenty of people don’t like goodbyes.” Seven tuned out the rest of the conversation and she and her family left the shuttlebay. “Mom?” Naomi said. “Yes, sweetie?” Sam said. “Could you and Seven tuck me in and tell me a bedtime story tonight?” “I thought you were too mature for those now,” Sam said, repeating words that Naomi had used over a year ago back to her. “I know, but…” Naomi didn't finish the sentence, looking embarrassed. Sam hugged her, and looked at Seven. “Neelix used to do that for her almost every night when she was real little, before you and I got together.” “I see,” Seven said. “Well, in that case, I see no reason not to to do it tonight.” She looked at Icheb while Sam and Naomi headed towards their quarters. “Icheb, before we do any of that, we need to have a talk about how you know so much about assassination attempts.” “Well, there’s this holonovel that Mister Paris invited me to play with him last week…” Seven sighed. “Dare I hope this one was age appropriate?” “Lieutenant Paris does still regret that previous incident,” Icheb said.

#a fire of devotion #Part 4 #chapter ten #sam7 #star trek voyager #fan fic

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