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athina-blaine · 3 years

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writing update! so for the last few weeks ive been slowly working through the companion piece for fell in your opinion and its almost complete, with about 3-ish pages of editing left. it’s a pretty dense scene, though, so im giving myself permission to shelve it for now and take a short break to reboot. between that and momm (the next chapter still around 50% complete), it’ll be a good while before anything’s ready to be posted :’(

in the meantime, here’s the opening scene from the companion piece, as a treat~

fallen out of favor and fallen on my face

companion piece to fell in your opinion, Jon POV

Preview word count: ~1k

It proved difficult to watch Martin walk back to the cab stand, alone. Should Jon have insisted on accompanying him, in case it started to rain again? Is that what a good boss would have done?

Not that Jon would know anything about that. Good boss, feh. His only template was Elias and, well, that was fraught with its own tension.

It just didn’t sit right with him, watching that lone figure shuffle down the corner on the rain soaked pavement.

And maybe … maybe he also wanted to spend a little bit more time with Martin. Soak in the colour of his eyes, equal measures vulnerable and … concerned.

With that thought came a flushing face and a stomach churning with embarrassment and shame. Jon buried his face in his hand, massaging his temples. The streetlights were doing nothing for his headache.

Jon knew the sort of person he was: Irritable, unfriendly, impatient, argumentative. He’d accepted it, leaned into it, even. It made things easier, after all, knowing how people will feel about you in advance, so why bother going off script?

And yet, despite all that, Martin said he still should have a cup of tea in the morning. Deserved it, he’d said. Jon didn’t feel like he deserved much of anything these days, much less …

Just get to the dishes already, Sims.

Scooping up the plate, he flipped on the sink and watched as it filled with hot, soapy water. His finger tapped the edge of the counter, teeth gnawing at his abused bottom lip. There was nothing else for it.

In the very beginning, he’d assumed the tea Martin would bring was an effort to butter him up. Get close to him so as to better keep an eye on his work. Those were early days, when Jon had thought Martin to be working for Elias as some kind of spy, to go blabbing the moment Jon inevitably made a horrible mistake.

Those assumptions, however, were dashed when it had been made abundantly clear Martin had been even less qualified for his current position than Jon.

Even when he’d realized Martin wasn’t some spy, he still assumed the tea was for something. Maybe to make Jon more forgiving to all of Martin’s obvious mistakes, which only served to increase his own workload, barely treading water as it was. Absurd, in hindsight. Why would Martin continue to bring him tea for all those months when it obviously did nothing to ease Jon’s ... temperament?

Of course, it had just been standard courtesy. A friendly gesture, from an amiable man.

Jon … didn’t react well to people being friendly with him. A learned habit from the struggles of childhood, maybe. He thought he’d gotten better after the extensive efforts of Tim and Sasha back in research, but apparently that hadn’t been the case. And, in the cold, impersonal halls of the Institute, no one went out of their way to be kind to him, not without reason. Even with Tim and Sasha, the close proximity of their work required that they get along, although he’s certain they’d argue otherwise out of politeness.

Jon preferred things that way. It meant nothing was expected from him. Nobody was disappointed.

Jon was Martin’s boss; they didn’t have to get along with each other. So then why …?

Because he’s kind, you knobhead.

Dumping the dishes into the hot water, he flipped off the sink and yanked out a sponge. Fat load of good that realisation does him now; not after all the things Jon’s said and done, the things he can never take back. He could prattle off excuse after excuse, but that wouldn’t change the fact that, at the end of the day, he’s just an arse.

Jon’s shoulders sagged. Why hadn’t he realized sooner? Why hadn’t he figured out Martin was trying to be nice to him?

It’s probably the only thing you eat all day, anyway, right? Martin had said. Couldn’t stop even if I wanted to.

His eyes had been so resolute, so determined to care about him, despite everything.

All these months working so closely together and, somehow, Jon never realized the colour of his eyes were an almost opalescent shade of brown. His smile–

The dishes clattered into the sink, his face burning.

Christ, he was so predictable. One small gesture or hint of affection had him falling headfirst.

With Georgie, it had been the return of his collectible nekojima pen after a maths class. Had set a personal best record for himself for that.

The problem was when he fell so fast and so hard he cracked his head at the bottom of the swimming pool, and there was no one around to fish him out of the water.

Not that any of that mattered; Jon would be lucky to salvage any kind of amicable relationship at all.

Leaving the dishes to dry, Jon pulled out his phone. It was nearing 1 AM; Martin had said he lived in Croydon, hadn’t he? Surely, he must be back by now? Searching through his contacts, he squinted. Had he never saved Martin’s number? He could have sworn …

Oh. He hadn’t saved him under Martin. Just Blackwood.

Taking a shuddering breath, Jon struggled to compose his message (Are you–? Have you made it–? Do you think we can–?) before sending a succinct,

>Did you get home safely?

He probably wouldn’t get a response for some time. Martin likely wasn’t chomping at the bit to hear from him.

And yet, a few moments later, his phone chimed.

>yeah

Oh.

>Good.

Maybe, though … Maybe things could be different this time. Maybe Jon can put his trust in someone else’s kindness for its own sake.

Maybe Jon could be better.

Even though the work loomed high, bearing its weight down on his thin shoulders, Jon decided it would be better for everyone if he actually got some sleep that night.

#tma #man this has been a crunch #gonna feel real good once all this gets out there

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keyenuta · 4 years

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TW Prologue: So enters The Wizard: part 2

(I'm gonna change up how i write dialogue to test stuff out, of you prefer this style please let me know) pt1, pt3

Mirror of Darkness: Your soul's shape is...Ramshackle!

Despite no echo being made, all throughout the room the word reverberated in everyone's minds. How could that be it's just an abandoned dorm?! For what felt like hours suddenly the silence was filled with a loud,

Everyone: Eeeeh?!

As each dorm head and student each shouted out in confusion, even Zoroaster, the boy in question looked at the mirror in shock, his golden eyes widening as his smirk became waver, beginning to crack into one confusion.

Grim: Ffnah?! Wait were getting a new member?!

Grim's sapphire eyes widened in confusion as he looked to You, now without their carpet of hair covering their face, Yuu looked just as dumbfounded as Grim, all they could really do was shrug.

Riddle: H-Headmaster, can they really enter Ramshackle, it was abandoned for some time after all.

Crowley: Mr.Rosehearts, I am just as confused as you are.

Leona: geez, this is too troublesome, I should've just went to sleep.

Kalim: ooh! Jamil, were getting another dorm isn't that exciting! Haha

Jamil: Hmmm, I agree Kalim, it is certainly interesting to say the least.

And all the while, despite all the murmurs and talking in the background, Zoroaster, the boy that spawned this uproar walked back to the mirror and now spoke plainly.

Zoroaster: uhh, you sure about that mirror? I ain't ever heard anything about a dorm named ramshackle ever, we need to clean your glass or something?

His chuckle died on his tongue from the expression of the mirror, it's stone cold face still glowering down on the boy as if nothing was amiss, or was a laughing matter.

Mirror: If you would prefer I look once more I shall, but your soul still reads ramshackle

Zoroaster: wait wha-

The boy was cut off by Crowley's outstretched hand. Resting in front of the boy's mouth as he rushed over to the mirror. While in the background whispers and murmurs slithered even more.

Crowley: Wait, wait, oh great Mirror of Darkness, there must be a mistake, Ramshackle is not a dorm I dont under-

Mirror: Headmaster Crowley, have I stuttered?

Crowley: well no, but why, please at least explain why no other dorm is suitable.

The mirror cutting him off gave the headmaster pause, but still he pleased the mirror for answers.

Mirror: Ramshackle is the shape of his soul headmaster. The reason why is because no other dorm fits his soul. The trait I saw within him was innovation. Now that is all. Please whoever is next come forward and give me your name.

Zoroaster seeing as he wasn't going to get anything more, went over to where Yuu and Grim stood and introduced himself to his new dorm mates. He strolled over to them and gave a playful bow

Zoroaster: Thanks for havin' me here, if ya want you can call me Zoro, no need to say all of it, oh and why's there a flaming racoon here?

Grim: Grrr, i am not a raccoon! Hmph, I am the great grim, and you are my new minion! Heheh

The monster laughed as he grinned from ear to ear imagining all the new stuff he could do with a new minion around. Zoroaster on the other hand looked to yuu who gave him a smile and shrugged, welcoming him in while the ceremony continued.

Up next there was the green skinned boy from earlier, as he walked over to the mirror, you could've sworn his brown eyes were staring at Grim with stars in his eyes. And thankfully when they stopped at the mirror, it broke him out of his trance.

Mirror: Give me your name

Jolting out of his trance, the boy whirled his head to answer the question, his hood flapping with every movement before he stopped on the mirror once more.

???: Oh-oh! Right, I'm Theodore, Theodore Elphaba!

He spoke brightly with a highish voice as he bounced and wobbled on his heeled slippers, while his hands clasped behind his back.

Mirror: Your soul reads, Ramshackle

Theodore: gaaaasp! Yay! I got in the kitty dorm!

Theodore cheered happily as he raced across to Grim, despite the monster's protests he still found himself glomped in a massive hug from Theodore as ge began to pet the monster while in the background Zoroaster trued and failed to hold in his laughter

Grim: hey! Let go im not a cat! I-i'm prrr the great grim!

Zoroaster: awww, nice to meet ya Theodore, seems like you met the great and adorable grim already he teased to the monster. Who hissed between his purrs.

And next up, the Lion from before shuddered up to the mirror, his long mane of dreadlocks bouncing with each step as he shimmied forward. Gulping, while gripping his tail he stuttered while his orange ears dipped down

???:I-i-i am R-Regis Anakh, t-thank you

All through his stuttering introduction, the Lion listened for the mirror to give his statement as his eyes were bound shut, as he muttered in a scared whisper

Regis: please don't pur me in the dark gremlins dorm, please no scary dorm, please-please-please

Mirror: Ramshackle

Regis: That's even worse, oh no oh no, um uh, your great and knowledgeableness, d-do I have to be in this dorm? I mean I would be fine being in his-no I mean uh

Zoroaster walked up to Regis with a smirk on his face, but he did feel a bit sorry for the guy, so he placed a hand on his shoulder abd tried to calm him down

Zoroaster: Heheheh, don't worry man, you're gonna be fine, no worries, ain't...nobody...gonna hurt you.

His word's tapered off as Regis scurried away from him in a rush

Zoroaster: man stop being an actual scary cat it's gonna be fine, no ones gonna hurt you I promise

Regis nodded fiercely but made no intention to move whatsoever. In the end Zoroaster shrugged and walked back to his spot there wasn't much he could do.

As the ceremony reached its end, and the uproars continued, you could see the look on Crowley's face. It seemed as if he saw a ghost as in a clean sweep, each and every member of the late arrivals all had been inducted into ramshackle. Dorothy and the tin man, Simon both went in there as well to his shock.

Crowley: a-ahem! I thank you all for joining us today for our late arrivals, as well as the apparent reopening of Ramshackle into an official dorm. It is truly another day of miracles I must say.

The headmaster gave a smile to the students around him as he paced in place, and continued his speech.

Crowley: but with a new dorm, there must be a dorm leader. And for I am so gracious, I will allow one dorm head battle. For whoever wants to be dorm leader, please step forward now!

And out of the seven dorm members, two students stepped out. Though one had to tear himself away from Theodore's iron grip. In the middle of the room, the two students who chose to be dorm leader, was Zoroaster and Grim.

Crowley: i see, very well, Students please follow me onto the field, if you would prefer.

Leona: feh, what do I care about a few herbivores fighting, Ruggie let's go, this was a waste of time

Ruggie: Shishishi, alright Leona bye bye!~

Waved the hyena as Savanaclaw made their exit. For the rest of the dorm leaders, vice and otherwise, for their own reasons they stuck around. Whether it's simple interest, such as with riddle, entertainment(Kalim) or if its for more unsavory means, as with Azul, they each waited for Crowley to give his mark. On one side of the Ceremony room, Zoroaster smirked a wicked grin, bouncing on his feet as he shook his right arm, as soon an item tumbled from its dark abyss to reveal a black hooked handle. Zoroaster's eyes closed for a moment as he twirled the hook, feeling a familiar groove he snapped his eyes open as a metallic click sounded from the hook, as a long shaft rocketed from the collapsed cane.

Now instead of gold, his eyes have turned an emerald color as with one last twirl, he launched the cane to his left hand and snapped the cane to his side like a showman on set getting ready to perform. Green eyes met sapphire as Zoro smiled at the monster before him.

Zoroaster: So grim, how 'bout we put on a good show, i think the audience deserves a good one after all this

Grim: heheh! Yeah I'll show the great magician grim in action! They'll be like "ooh, look how cool Grim is!" Or "wow! I wonder when I could get that good"

Zoroaster: Heheheheh, a magician vs a wizard, wonder who'll win? Though I will say, my money's on the wiz.

Crowley: The rules are simple, when this mirror leaves my hand, please only use magic attacks only, good luck you two.

Theodore: GET HIM GRIM!

Yuu: Heheh, good luck you two

Regis: please don't hurt me but, y-yes, best of luck

A ear bursting shatter fills the room, it's trickle being closely followed by the roar of flames and a low mutter. Rapidly as an ocean of blue flames stampeded towards Zoro, he made no movement so move, no action to defend, all he did was mutter.

Zoroaster: Walk down a road of yellow bricks and come to see the wizard, of the Emerald city

After the flames enveloped the tall boy, in mere moments a fierce howl echoed all around. As from where the flamed had hit, a thick emerald mist billowed out. Surrounding everyone on its haze as from behind Grim a figure made of that mist drifted out, and with a swing of a cane, Grim was launched back by a emerald bolt of lightning.

Grim: Arrrgh, what the-why didn't you get roasted?!

Grim demanded annoyed, but without answering his question, Zoroaster snapped his fingers, as the very ground beneath them cracked and heaved up, thinning into a long winding road of amethyst stone that Zoro hopped on, sliding on the thin pavement as he rocketed towards grim

Azul: oooh, that's quite the impressive unique magic, very powerful indeed.~

Azul cooed, eyeing the display before him, but in the background, you see Regis cowering once more in the corner, trying to stay very far away from this fight. Meanwhile Theodore was calling grim to shoot a left, and right at the monster. Rooting for him with all his might.

All the while Grim on all his paws charged forward to meet the incoming boy head on, but as he went to launch fire onto the boy, he suddenly found himself shrink more and more, and for those outside, in a poof, they found grim transformed into a small lizard, landing square in the wizard's hand.

Zoroaster: if ya wanted to meet the wizard ya came to the right place, would ya rather be a lizard or frog

At those words, seconds after the words left Zoro's lips Grim turnt from a lizard to a black frog. Eyes bugging out frog grim leaped out of Zoroaster's hand and yelled angrily at him

Grim: nyaah! No-i wanna be normal now

Zoroaster: Pffft if that's your request I'll grant it, don't worry

Snapping his fingers, Grim in a second turned back to normal as the ground returned to normal as the wizard tried and failed to hold his laughter in

Zoroaster: Heheheheh, sorry about comin' off like that, guess I'm feelin' playful today

Grim: phew, hey, don't do that again?! What kinda magic is that?!

The monster demanded as the flames in his ears blazed from agitation while Zoro leant on his cane

Zoroaster: it's my unique magic, emerald city whatever's in this ring, whatever pops into my head i can do. Zero gravity? Got it, want a soldier of stone i got that. Guess ya could call it magic incarnate i guess.

To further emphasize that, he floated on the air and soon a soldier of purple stone was erected in moments. And in the back, you could see Azul's smile widening as he flicked up his glasses, chuckling lowly as he listened to what this magic was. Now he was sure he had to have it.

Trey: my, that seems like a complete opposite to your own unique magic Riddle.

Riddle: yes, that seems to be the case, Trey

Grim: well i don't care how strong that is, ill still show yiu who's boss minion!

Zoroaster: Wonderful, let's keep goin' then!

The Wizard smirked wildly as he and the soldier charged forward, to respond Grim decided to run while sending out pot shots of flames, immediately, the soldier's rocky frame bounded together and took the flames head on, as Zoroaster hopped on its back, launching him to the cat, skidding to meet him, as in a second, water and fire magic collided into steam, surrounding the two in a blanket if thick fog, but despite this, the wizard still smirking, snapped his hand one last time, as now, a hiss was heard.

As soon, unbeknownst to Grim, from the steam the two had just made, two snakes formed and wrapped the monster up, binding him as the snaked coiled around him.

Crowley: Seeing as Grim can no longer continue the fight, Zoroaster Ozma wins, please release grim Mr.ozma.

Breathing out a sigh of relief, Zoroaster gave one last snap as the fog receded, and any and all damage from it disappeared like smoke. Now unfurling grim groaned as he saw Zoro crouch to pick him up.

Zoro: We put on a great show I gotta say, how ya feelin' Grim?

He asked outstretching his hand, which soon met a paw

Grim: mmm, in fine, heh, i guess i can let you become dorm leader minion

Snickering with the monster Zoro shrugged it off

Zoroaster: ya ain't allow nothin' but alright

Crowley: Mr Ozma, congratulations on being dorm leader of Ramshackle, perfect, could you be so gracious and guide the dorm to their home.

Yuu: Sure why not, everyone follow me haha

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alexis-kohler-bermuda · 4 years

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A Love For A Lifetime

@blazing-emblem IM SOOOOO SORRY TGIS IS LATE BUT HAPPY NEW YEAR MY DEAR! It was A Lot Longer But Ill Post Part 2 Eventually When My Laptop Is Fixed @summonersecretsanta Its Done!!

-Bruno PoV-

I didn’t understand. What was she thinking? If we were seen this could put her in danger. Alas not even I could talk her out of things such as this. She could be so stubborn……..But I guess that was always one thing I Loved About Her. “Stubborn Woman.”

“Who’s a Stubborn Woman.” Ah, that was her voice. I knew it all too well, and she didn’t sound angry. I turned around to look at her. The way the moonlight glowed off her ebony hair; It was rather enchanting, but so was she. I couldn’t stop myself from going over to her and cupping her cheek. “We really should stop sneaking around.” I stroked her warm skin that stood out against the lightened background. If it were not for the moon would I able to see her beautiful amethyst eyes? No, I don’t want to think of that right now. We only have a small amount of time to be with each other. I should enjoy it. Her giggle pulled me from my thoughts. When were her lips against mine? How did I not notice this sensation? I carefully wrapped my arms around her and lifted her up just enough to reach her better. Once satisfied, I pulled back and looked at her.

“Stop Overthinking. We’re Right Here, Right Now. Nothing else Matters but Us, Okay?” I nodded my head and slowly lifted my hand to remove my mask. She seemed satisfied with that, her smile warm. She truly was easy to read at moments like that. Her difference on the battlefield was amazing. She cared about her heroes and it was clear on her face during a fight. And when the sun rises there will be another tough battle for her.

-Days Later-

“No No NO NO!” How could this have happened!? How could I have been so careless!? Dammit! I slashed at the man the moment I grabbed my senses back and slid down to my knees, gripping my side. She was screaming…..but what was she saying? I could feel her warm hands on me but… It was like I was numb. She almost got killed from my carelessness, and now because I wasn’t fast enough I’M the one who caused her suffering.

“Br….o……Bru.no… BRUNO CAN YOU HEAR ME!?” Her voice was going in and out, but I nodded anyway. Please don’t cry. Not For Me. You Look So Beautiful When You Smile… At least that’s what I wish I could say to her. She must have moved me because I found myself looking up at her. I pushed through the pain and raised my hand to cradle her cheek. I could feel her tears against my skin as they fell and rolled down my cheek. Everything was blurry and fading but the last thing I saw was her lips moving, begging me to stay.

Then everything went black. -Time has flowed- I could hear voices from time to time. Usually it was her or Alfonse come to tell me what had been happening. I myself was unable to move. My own body had betrayed me but at least I could hear her voice. I want to Tell her I Love Her Again. I Want To See Her Beautiful Tan skin and her enchanting violet eyes. I want to see the smile she gets when I call her beautiful or when she’s playing with Feh. I Want To See Her Talking With Klein and Veronica About What She Should Do. I HAVE TO SEE HER!

With that I saw a bright flash of light when my eyes opened. Upon looking around I could see her. It must have been late because she was sleeping peacefully. Her head was rested on the bed against my hand. I couldn’t stop the smile that grew on my face. She was right there in front of me and at last I could see her. I heard a soft clearing of a throat and looked over. “Alfonse? How Long Was I..”

I watched as Alfonse kneeled beside me and checked the bandages. “A few Days... She stayed the whole time, you know… She only left to Eat and that’s only because Klein begged her and Princess Veronica Demanded it… We … Were All Worried About You, Zacharias…But She… You two are Together, Aren’t You?” I guess he could tell by my surprised face that he was right. He seemed to be deep in thought before he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. Ah, so that’s how he figured it out. “It was found on your possession while they were prepping you… You were too late to be healed so they had to figure out how to save you… She put the ring inside on so it was rather obvious… Even to me.”

I could feel the smile form on my lips. I Guess I Didn’t Have To Worry About Her Saying No, At Least. I felt a stir beside me, and I looked over at her as she woke and gave her a soft smile. She quickly sat up and grabbed my hand to look me over in a panic. I gently stopped her and took hold of her own hand, spotting the ring. It was simple and nothing grand, but I had figured this one would be less obvious to ease her anxieties. I lifted her hand and placed a gentle kiss to the ring, watching her blush. “I’ll be sure to properly Propose when I am all better.” The soft smile that graced her lips made my heart warm up. The heat grew even more when she placed a tender kiss to my lips. “I’ll Be Waiting Then… Just Know You’ll Be Stuck With Me Forever.” The way she phrased it caused me to chuckle a bit. “And what a Happy Forever It Will Be. I Love You, My Dear… With Everything I Have.”

#my writing #bruno #feh #secret santa

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summoner-kentauris · 3 years

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ive posted bits and pieces of this before but i dont think the whole thing? honestly this one was an excuse to write about gjöll (hríds icy sword). anna and hríd fight. i cant remember what zacharias was said to ahve done in this. apparently pretty bad tho. either zacharias got himself into some serious shit or i was decided to write slightly darker askrans than usual. anyway im imagining i was at the peak of my make your characters flawed kick when i was doing this. which is a good thing to do but still.

Hrid is a prince of Nifl, and as such, he is trained to handle, address, and resolve diplomatic occurrences.

He is trained to do these things and, as such, people will occasionally fly to him with desperate concerns, panicked and seeking any kind of help they can get.

They are usually desperate.

Hrid is trained and also Hrid, and as such, people have almost entirely stopped relying on him for diplomacy.

It doesn’t bother him. He's good at other things, and besides, it means he is hardly ever disturbed while he’s focused on training, or fighting, or just staring out across Nifl and wondering how long it might take to talk to furthest twisted frozen ice geyser (four hours).

For example, sleeping. Hríd enjoys sleeping. At least, so long as the ancient echoes of Nifl aren't twisting around and ghosting along his spine and leaving him cold inside, like light sheets of veiled snow. Other than that, sleep ranks pretty high on Hríd’s list of things he, generally speaking, enjoys. It’s another thing that rarely happens in Nifl, what with court this, and regency that, and emergency so and so. Askr's supposed to be different.

And oh boy, is it.

He is both woken up, and asked for diplomatic help at the same time.

He comes to shot through with alarm and adrenaline, and deep sleep confusion. Are his arms attached to him? He pats himself – they are – thinks he’s gone blind for a moment and then realizes it’s night and his eyes are closed. Someone - not him - makes a noise, so he rolls out of bed and snatches his sword and hits the ground with his hand wrapped tight around Gjöll. He's grabbed the blade without thinking, and a protective cover of ice instinctively spreads up between the sleep warm skin of his palm and the deathly sharp edge of blade’s ice surface. It’s a part of him, in an instant, he can almost feel the disbalance in the air making the blade hover and waver slightly, minute adjustments to a threat the part of his head that’s still mostly asleep hasn’t even begun to recognize yet.

He’s not blind, it occurs to him. He just still has his eyes closed.

He opens them – closes them again because the moon is terribly, horribly blue bright tonight, and then snaps them back open.

Sharena is crying at the foot of his bed.

He can’t really hear her, yet. Somewhere, buried far in his dreams like ancient ruins under centuries of avalanche, somewhere in his dreams ancient echoes of Nifl are still twisting around his deepest fears – or maybe someone else's. All he remembers is the ice slick body of the dragon, screaming in the face of something unthinkable.

Sharena chokes back another sob, and the dream fragment leaves as if it has never been. It’s replaced by sound, the breaking, halting, jagged sound of Sharena, fighting her way through breathing.

“I – can’t – find – Anna – so,” she says, trying to wipe back tears and push away falling hair.

She’s got her lance. She’s in pajamas and she’s got her lance and the two things don’t fit together in Hríd’s head.

“Please,” she says, “They- he-”

It clicks.

Emergency situation requiring diplomacy.

“I think-” she says, her voice cracking in the middle, “I think... I think they might kill each other,” she says.

Emergency situation.

Requiring diplomacy (?)

They catch Anna on the way, Feh tangled up in her hair and hooting with more verve and anger than the time Anna stole the orb Feh likes to sit on.

Tell me what’s happening, Anna tries to demand.

Sharena, usually well in control of herself, can barely make it through I’ve never seen him yell before.

She’s right.

It is out of control.

I’ve never seen him yell before, she explained, as they dodged late night heroes stumbling around.

Better they should argue than resent each other, he said, but, he felt it nonetheless. A tangled, dragging down sense of dread that made his feet feel heavy. That made him want to run a little slower because the fear was, the yelling was most certainly not better. Unlike Sharena, Hríd has seen Alfonse angry. He’s been able to recognize the blinded fury that hid just out of sight of its owner, waiting until everything seemed lost to strike. Hríd had let the feeling take over once, had faced Surtr, had seen reflected there a fury burned beyond understanding, fury molten and melted into a new form, corrupted and snarling and evil.

Hríd had been afraid of himself ever since.

They said Alfonse had put Bruno to the sword once, without knowing who he also was. Leveled a divine weapon at the other because the part of himself that was blinded had told him this was right and just. They said Alfonse would have killed him, if Kiran hadn’t been there. They said it and expected Hríd to be surprised.

Hríd had been afraid for them both ever since.

Sharena drags Anna outside, through the summer cold night fields of Askran dustgrass, so tall and light he could have mistaken it for a light snow, if he’d been less awake than the sickness in his stomach is forcing him to be. The frost cover on his hand doesn’t break as he shifts his grip on his sword from the naked blade to the hilt. It simply melts and reforms, a defensive basket hilt of fractal crystals blooming around his knuckles of its own accord.

Sharena drags him outside despite the part of him that is unprepared to deal with the word crisis and despite the part of him that wants whatever is happening to not be happening. She drags him outside, and she is right to, because she’s telling the truth:

The situation is out of control.

Zacharias and Alfonse are on the top of one of the many rises of low hills that ease around the east side of the Askran castle capital. Zacharias falls over right when Sharena and Hrid get close enough to see. Goes down hard on his back, but doesn’t stop to check himself. He pushes himself backwards through the grass, one shaking hand trying to keep himself upright as he scoots away, the other in front of him, warding away Alfonse.

Who, like Sharena, has numerous visible tears running down his face.

Who, like Sharena, is armed. Fólkvangr is sheathed in a worn, casual leather affair, slung low on a belt that’s affixed around untidy, hastily-donned practice armor. Hríd recognizes it as basic gear that can be gotten from the least secure parts of the armory. He knows all the weak points. He’s scared to find a part of himself already calculating them out.

“EVERYTHING!” Alfonse screams. Both he and Zacharias are both breathing far too far hard. Hríd begins to understand why Sharena, who was there for everything in the war, said I’ve never seen him yell before.

“I FORGAVE YOU EVERYTHING! EVERYTHING! AND ALL THIS TIME-”

“Oh no...” Sharena says in a whisper. Her running falters, skips a step or two, slows. “He found out.”

She bolts.

Hríd runs after her.

“I never asked you for anything,” Alfonse says. The sudden return to a normal volume is all the more frightening to Hríd, as is the way Alfonse’s motions are loose and easy. He kneels beside Zacharias, the other man so tense it shows clearly in the way his high, tight shoulders strain at this shirt. Unlike everyone else present, he’s in full dayware. A complicated, Emblian thing with its many layers and ruffles that usually grace him perfectly, except today – tonight – it looks like it’s choking him. He has the tension of someone in pain, and when Alfonse gently places a hand on his face,the shudder that runs through him is awkward, and jagged.

“I never asked you for anything, and I forgave you everything.”

The hand Alfonse has on Zacharias’ face curls inward slightly. Hríd would think the gesture one of caring and kindness, except for the way it makes Zacharias' breath catch. Except for the way it makes the beginnings of a garbled pained groan struggle through Zacharias.

“I...can’t...” he manages. “I- nrgh- please.”

More tears pool in Alfonse’s eyes. “And you never cared, did you? You used me. You admitted it! I was just a weapon to destroy Embla. Just another weapon of war, just some other Folkvangr, some other Valaskjalf, some other Vigrithr…”

Zacharias shudders again. He pushes himself a few more inches away, but the two of them are connected by something Hríd has never, and likely, he thinks, will never understand. It’s hurting Zacharias. It’s as if Hríd can feel it, as if he can feel the forced-down, suppressed smoulder of the dark curse seething and clawing its way out of the ether.

It’s hurting. Alfonse’s hand is burning like the fire in Surtr’s eyes.

Hríd runs a little faster, makes it over one last banked slope and Anna beats him there.

She halts. Nóatún in her hand.

Sharena brightens, with the look of someone who has seen hope.

Hrid feels fear, but not his own.

“Anna, we’ve got to-” Sharena says, attempting to brush past her.

“Stop,” Anna commands. Her quiet voice rings nonetheless.

“I- What?”

“I told him,” Anna says, simply. It means something to Sharena, because she crumples back to the way she was before, when she first scrambled to find Hríd.

Up on the top of the hill, Alfonse has gotten even closer to Zacharias. If not for the way Zacharias keeps up a constant, increasingly weak attempt to back off, Alfonse would be cradling him by now.

“And when you told me...” he says, with a distance in his voice that’s not matched by the heartbreak in his eyes, “When you told me…that… but you never meant it. You couldn’t have. Not when… all this time, we… we could have…”

“I didn’t know,” Zacharias breaks in. His voice is hoarse, and strained with effort. The dark curse lurches unsteadily through him. It’s looking for a break in the armor, and oh, there are so many. Fighting is the art of reading someone and Hríd can read Zacharias so easily right now. He’s terrified. It’s shutting down his ability to move. Its tearing apart his ability to think. It’s begging him to drag Alfonse down on the ground beside him and straddle him and choke him to death before Anna and Sharena can do anything about it.

Hrid recoils, and then takes a step forward, and another, because he can do nothing else. It's out of control.

He walks straight into the flat of Nóatún, with enough force to stop him full on.

“NO,” Anna reiterates.

“Commander Anna,” Sharena protests, continuing an argument Hríd hadn’t been listening to. “With respect, Commander, you’re just wrong! I know him, he trained me! This isn’t right!”

Anna’s eyes narrow, and her stance shifts into one of preparation.

“With respect, Princess, we don’t have any other options.”

The debate rumbles on. Hríd looks down at Nóatún, blocking his path. A well cared for, polished, sharpened weapon that is flat against his torso. The ice on his own sword cracks like joints, clicking in preparation.

Resolving diplomatic situations, while an important part of his childhood training, had always been... well, pardon him, but a pain in the ass. Diplomacy was people, inventing tangles of mystery and half words, fermented concealed resentments, and admiration, and envy and needs. A dance in mist and fog. Lives on the line of every step.

He's never been good at creating diplomatic solutions.

Now, creating diplomatic problems...

Well.

He swings directly for the joint in the armor covering her right forearm. He can outfight most the Askrans even with one hand tied behind his back and the other sore and stiff with deep burn scars. On his worst day. In his worst life. This? Nóatún is so diplomatically placed with flat against his torso. She can’t bring the edge around fast enough to hurt him. Never mind that she's is distracted by Sharena’s debating, distracted enough that shes forgotten, for a second, that he wields with his left hand before his right.

He swings Gjöll and it cracks spectacularly against the seam at her elbow. The blade shatters into countless pieces, the haze of flak shredding through her cloth sleeves and the leather beneath. He keeps swinging, pivoting into the turn and backhanding her in perhaps the least court-sanctioned way to fight he knows how.

Her eyes widen a fraction. No one ever expects his training background.

She stumbles, and Nóatún slips from her numb hand. Still, she's sharp. She's pitched forward by the strike and unbalanced by the follow up but she’s sharp. She knows just how much he’s put into the attack so she snatches Fensalir from a shocked, still Sharena and uses it to re-balance herself in the precious second while he whirls around to face her, his sword re-coalescing into a smooth, flawless facet of crystalline ice as the fragments fly home, blood soaked.

Sharena covers her mouth, horrified.

#my drafts

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