princeoffools - Tumblr blog

princeoffools · 6 years

Text

Alone

Warning: NSFW

It had been a crappy few days for Kiar and being told to go home by Grace did nothing to help his mood. The nightmares haven’t let up, ever since that fucking library he hasn’t got a full night’s sleep. He’s not waking up screaming anymore so there’s that, that very small silver lining.

Currently the Tiefling was curled up into a ball on his side, not wanting to sleep, not wanting the nightmares to plague him. Thankfully sleep was not coming, although every time Kiar closed his eyes he saw those glowing green orbs and that fucking smile. He squeezes his eyes tighter until he sees stars, stars that hides the face but they don't help with the laughter.

Raking his hands down his face Kiar groans and swings his legs over the side of the bed and looks around his room, his darkvision helping in the dim light. A bookshelf that he was slowing filling, some poison ingredients lying on a desk, armour and bags in a pile in the corner, he was steadily making this room his. While looking about he seems to be missing something, a black void that is usually lying next to him and keeping him company. Eyebrows drawing together, Kiar pushes himself up from the bed and wanders around his room, looking for his ball of fluff.

Not finding Soot in the usual places she likes to hide away in, Kiar opens his bedroom door, walking into the shared living space between himself and Ailbhe.

“Soot?” He calls out into the empty room, but he gets nothing in reply. No cat sounds, nor a four legged black figure weaving itself between his feet. He checks her hiding places here and continues to call her name but to no avail. Kiar sighs to himself, it seems even his damn cat has better things to do then be with him.

Walking back to his room that’s what his mind lingers on. He was alone. It wasn’t the first time and gods know it’s not going to be the last. It’s the only constant in his life, that loneliness, and sure, he’s got people around him but the loneliness inside him is deep-seated. He’s never going to shake it and sooner or later he’s going to end up alone again. It’s just a matter of time.

He walks into his room and surveys it once again. Sure he was making this place his, but was it really any different to the room he used to have? He’d fill it up and then leave it, just like before. It wasn’t his backpack that’s for sure, he could fit everything he held dear in there and still have room to spare. It wasn’t that he wasn’t sentimental it’s just he’s never had much to call his own. The most important thing was around his neck and that was never coming off.

Sitting at the end of his bed Kiar sighs to himself again, if it wasn’t nightmares it was feeling like shit and thoughts he’d rather not linger on. He looks to his books and his ingredients, he’s usual means of escaping, and neither seem appealing to him right now. He knows there’s no way he could get lost in something. As much as he wishes he could.

He falls back onto his bed, covers his face with hands and groans into them. He wishes he could do something, or someone really. Anything to get his mind off of everything. But he knows the risks if he did go out and pursue someone, it’s the reason he’s not working, the reason he’s isolating himself at night. The fucking nightmares. Ailbhe would help but he’s got his own shit to deal with, and he’s got his new friend, so why would the other Tiefling deal with him. He wonders if he could get back into the Rose and Thorn without Grace knowing and asking someone who knows-

Kiar cuts the thought off there, he wouldn’t do that. He promised Grace he’d go home and he wouldn’t want to take time from someone.

At the thought of work, Kiar does remember a package he received a while ago. A long, slim package with a small rose on it. He hadn’t inspected it much, mostly chuckling to himself and then putting it away in a drawer, only for it to be forgotten. To be fair, his life has been messed up and busy since then, and he really hadn’t had the time for simple pleasures.

Sitting up, Kiar moves to the drawer, taking out the package and a bottle of oil. He was thinking he might as well, not because he was turned on but mostly because his mind was sticking to it, it was a distraction. If he got that far he’d rather be prepared and ready to go then having to fumble around for it. Sitting crossed legged on the middle of his bed, Kiar places the bottle of oil beside him as he unwraps the gift and subsequently laughs out into his empty room. Whoever had got this had found the phallic object in his skin tone, the black matches his own. Looking down at it he wonders, if the skin tone matches, what else does?

He takes off his loose shirt and pants, exposing his warming skin to the cool room. He shuffles backwards until his back hits the headboard of the bed and then he grabs the base of his cock. Eyes closing as his hand moves up and down his length, hardening at images of a body or two he’s been with before. His breathing is still even as he opens his eyes, he knows how to pace himself if nothing else. He holds the fake against his own length and while they weren’t exactly the same, the sizes were similar.

He laughs to himself, what in the world was he doing? Measuring his own dick against a rubber one. His life was already pretty weird, it couldn’t really get weirder. He smiles to himself as he grabs the bottle of oil and squirts a generous amount into his hands. After warming the oil he covers his new toy and shuffles down his bed. Placing it aside for now, Kiar takes his cock once again, focusing more on the movements of his hand and less on past experiences.

He squeezes slightly as his thumb brushes over the head and he lets out a small moan. It’s not often he pleasures himself, he finds having someone else is a lot more fun. Not that he can’t have fun on his own though. He bites his lip as another moan escapes him, and he tries to think back, when was the last time he did this just for himself and not putting on a show for someone. His hand keeps moving and Kiar can’t remember, he squeezes himself again and plans on making this last. He’s determined to remember this.

His other hand moves down and a slick finger teases his hole for a little bit before entering, a breathy laugh escapes him. Gods that feels good. He slowly works his way up to two fingers then finds that spot inside himself, his fingers brush it and he moans very loudly into his quiet room. Kiar adds another finger, and then both hands are moving in-sync. He sets a slow pace, he wants this to last, wants to try out his new toy too.

After another series of moans, Kiar’s fingers leave him, leave him empty and wanting. The hand on his dick slows considerably, his thumb moving pre-cum around. He lets go of his cock and reapplies some oil onto the rubber one, and then he moves. Kiar rolls onto his stomach and he brings his knees under him, he’s sure it makes a very pretty image. He brings on arm up and rests his forehead against a forearm as his other hand takes a handful of his sheets. His tail wraps around the base of his toy and brings it up until the head is against his hole. He relaxes himself more and moves it in slowly, waits until he can feel the edges of his tail and waits to get accustomed to it.

He keeps the pace even, wanting to draw this out as long as he can. He adjusts the angle and he cries out in pleasure as he hits that spot inside him head on. Readjusting, he has it until the dick inside him is only just barely brushing against it. His breathing gets heavier and he can feel the warmth pooling in him. He gets to the edge and slows, almost stopping. His breathing seems loud in the room and he looks down to see pre-cum making a wet spot on his sheets. He had to clean them anyway, might as well get them more dirty.

After getting his breathing under control Kiar takes his cock again and moves his tail and hand in-sync, going slow. From experience he knows how long he can last, knows how long he can drag this out, and he’ll make it last. The room is hot and filled with his sounds of pleasure. A pleasant warmth pools in him and he lets it build, movements stuttering as his breathing hitches. Curses and moans escape him more freely as he builds up to his orgasm. He reaches the edge and tips over with a brush of his thumb, and a brush inside him. Warm cum soaks the sheets beneath him and he couldn’t care less, not now in the thralls of pleasure. He rides out his orgasm, and catches his breath as he removes his toy and flops over onto his back.

Kiar lies there for a while, getting his breathing back to normal and reveling in the afterglow. Not too long later he extracts himself from his bed and grimaces at the mess he made. Before dealing with it, he grabs a towel and makes his way to the bathroom, he was a mess himself and in need of a wash. Getting to the bathroom Kiar first gets the hot water running and grabs some soap that they have. Stepping into the water he sinks into it and soaks in the heat before actually starting to get clean. He can feel the tiredness seeping into his body, as he sits there.

Sinking further down until the water is just under his eyes Kiar closes his eyes and wonders if he drowned no how long would it be before anyone found him. Then he thinks about the mess his bed was in and wonders what people would think. He smiles under the water and dunks his head under, covering his hair and horns. Resurfacing Kiar stays in the hot water until it turns lukewarm and steps out of the bath.

Drying himself quickly Kiar wraps his towel around his waist and looks at himself in the mirror. If he was being honest, he looked like a mess, with his hair flat and the bags under his eyes Kiar looked like death, or at least in need of a good sleep.

He walks back to his room and after opening the door he is greeted by a loud meow. Soot stands between himself and the bed. Yelling at the rogue for reasons yet unknown to him. He walks around her, grabs a loose fitting pair of pants and puts them on. Kiar then turns to his black cat and asks what’s all the yelling for. Soot puts one black paw on a part of the sheet that was hanging off the edge of the bed and yells again.

“Okay,” Kiar smiles, “the sheets are dirty and you can't sleep on them. Right?”

Soot makes a sound like she’s agreeing and he laughs at that, of course he’s right. For an alley cat Soot can be fussy sometimes. Kiar grabs the dirty sheets and shoves them into a corner, he’ll deal with them in the morning, he can sleep without them anyway. As he turns around to climb into bed he sees Soot has already jumped up and is making herself comfortable. Laying down on his side, Kiar can feel sleep coming, he also feels Soot roll into his chest. She rolls around for a bit before getting comfortable sprawled out against him. He runs a hand across her fur and falls asleep to her soft purring.

The nightmares still come.

He wakes up screaming.

#it's been 84 years #hey guys i'm still writing #smut too #with my beautiful boy #Kiar #my poor boy #dnd #nsfw

4 notes · View notes

princeoffools · 6 years

Text

Christmas With The Hounds

Nobody belongs to @gildedskeleton

While the Tower was decorated in whites, blues and golds for the Dawning and as Guardians and citizens alike milled about the City, searching for gifts for their loved ones, three Hunters entered a room. A room that was instead decorated in greens and reds, that had a large tree in the corner with presents underneath and that the smell wafting from the kitchen brought back old memories.

The sight that greeted Ace was not one he was expecting but given the circumstances was not one that surprised him. Lucky and Seven were intertwined and were locked at the lips in the kitchen doorway, a mistletoe hanging above them. He catches Zero’s eye, who was sitting in his usual green beanbag, and he watches as the younger man slowly shakes his head and goes back to his laptop.

Ace moves forward into the room, knowing that Eight, holding onto Nobody’s hand, will head straight to the beanbag they’ve claimed as their own. Ace heads towards the kitchen, passing Thirteen and Queen at the large television they have set up in the room. Getting to the two women blocking the doorway, Ace prises them apart instead of trying to walk past them. He’s met with two smaller Titans glaring at him.

“You’re blocking the door,” Ace says.

“Well,” Lucky looks to her girlfriend then back to Ace, “to pass you gotta kiss one of us. Rules of the mistletoe.” She points up, as if he had not spotted the reason the two were blocking the doorway with their kissing. Ace sighs, kisses the top of Lucky’s head and brushes passed both women. He hears barely restrained sighs behind him and then footsteps moving away, he assumes they’re going over to Thirteen.

In the kitchen King is set up at the oven, pots and pans filled with food around him. He’s wearing what looks to be the most ugliest Christmas sweater Ace has ever seen. It looked like a traditional knitted one except that it had silenced pistols on it. Ace leans against one the drawers, keeping some distance between himself and the oven and King. Knowing this was his domain and he didn’t really want to die right now.

“Where,” Ace starts saying “in the world did you get that monstrosity?”

“Well,” King looks up from the the pot he’s stirring, “Queen knitted it for me. Said we needed to be extra Christmassy this year after everything that’s happened so…” He gestures down at himself with one hand. Ace hums at that and notes that the older man had said “we” and hopes it only means King and Queen. He’s more than likely wrong though.

“I hate to ask but, you need any help?”

King goes back to his pot and shakes his head.

“Nah, I’m good and the boss already has the table done so you’re free to relax.”

Ace smiles to himself and inches closer, snags a carrot out of one of the pots before King can slap his hand away. The Warlock glares at him as he starts chewing. He watches as the glare disappears, King looks over his shoulder and grins. Ace swallows and turns slowly, to see Nobody standing in the doorway.

He moves forward without thinking and stops just before them. Ace barely looks up at the mistletoe above them, then looks back to Nobody.

“Do you know what that is?”

Ace watches as they look up then back to him, raises a single eyebrow and says, “A plant?”

“Smartass,” he gets a smile for that one. “It’s a mistletoe, generally when two people are under it,” he gestures between the both of them, “they tend to kiss. So,” he gets closer to them, lowers his voice, “can I kiss you?” He sees them swallow, sees them nod. He brings his left hand up to cup their cheek. Closes the short distance between them, presses their lips together and waits. Waits until Nobody grabs a hold of his t-shirt and tugs, then he gives up control, gives it to them. Ace’s lips are parted and his tongue is met with Nobody’s. For a brief moment it’s as if they are in their own little bubble, where time stands still. Nothing else exists besides Nobody’s lips and tongue against his own.

It’s not until a wolf whistle fills the room that they part. Ace notes how red Nobody’s face is and smirks. He brushes his thumb across their cheek. He then looks over their shoulder, to find the culprit responsible for breaking them apart and finds Lucky with a thumbs up in his direction. He promptly flips her off.

Ace takes Nobody’s hand and walks them over to the beanbag Eight’s still sitting in and the little shit has the biggest grin on his face.

“Did you two enjoy that?”

Nobody plops down on one side of Eight, Ace sits down on the other side. Once sitting Ace leans in closer and whispers into his ear.

“You’re next you know.”

Eight turns his head so they were face to face, smiles and says, “I know.” He then gives Ace a small peck and turns to Nobody, making sure they were okay.

Ace stretches his arms out and up and then drapes one around Eight’s shoulders. He leans over a bit more to tuck a stray piece of hair behind Nobody’s ear. His hand lingers longer than what was necessary but they don’t seem to mind.

Ace looks around the room, notes Queen and Thirteen have moved. Queen was behind Zero, they seemed to be talking about what was on his laptop. Thirteen was squashed between his girlfriends in their own beanbag, Lucky’s laughter filling the room for a minute as they talked about something. King and Joker move between the kitchen and the conference room, that was being used as a dining room today, moving food and drink. All ten Ghosts were milling about the room, talking with one another or their Guardians.

Ace sinks into the beanbag more and smiles to himself. He looks to his team-mates, his friends, his family and his chest is filled with warmth. If the smell of food wasn’t making him hungry he could have easily fallen asleep then and there.

It’s not too long later, when King opens the conference room door and announces that food is ready. The Hounds file in to the room and sit in their usual seats. Joker at the head of the table. Lucky, Thirteen, Eight and Nobody sitting down the left while Seven, Queen, King and Zero are sitting down his right. Ace sits at the other end of the table.

Joker makes a small speech before they eat, about how now was a time for celebration, about how they’ve all faced hardships with losing the light and the events that followed but how each of them have grown from it. He then allows them to dig it to the feast King has cooked up.

Food is eaten, crackers are pulled and paper crowns are worn. Ace sees Eight put his own paper crown on Nobody’s head, both of them smiling. Serenity insists that if he is not going to wear his own that she should get it. So Ace delicately places his crown on his Ghost. The warm feeling in his chest expands and he smiles.

Once dinner and desert has been eaten and digested the ten Guardians move back into the lounge and all of them seek out their usual beanbags. Joker and Queen sit on the small couch they got for Joker.

After everyone has settled, Queen stands and moves to the tree and starts taking out presents from underneath it. She hands one to each of the four Titans and the four Hunters.

“King already received his gift from me. I do hope you like them.” She then sits back down and watches as they all unwarp her gifts.

As he opens his own, Ace laughs to himself, he was right. He pulls out a knitted sweater, on his are sniper rifles and smoke or it could be steam, he’s not quite sure. He wiggles into while still sitting and once he has it on he looks to see what everyone else has. There seems to be a pattern with weapons considering Eight has knives on his and Seven has blocks of C4 on hers. He realises as he looks around that Nobody has yet to open their present. Though their eyes were wide and shining.

Thankfully they were seated between Eight and himself this time so he could lean down and tell him he can open it. It was theirs. He watches as they delicately open the wrapping paper and slowly take out their new sweater. They lift it up and Ace gets a good look at it. Like his own their’s has sniper rifles on it, it also has moth wings on the back and a couple of extra moths on the front. They look so surprised and happy as they put it on. Ace puts an arm around them when they sit back and kiss the top of their head just because they are so cute and he is very much in love.

More presents are taken from under the tree and handed out. Nobody seems shocked that they are getting more than one thing. It’s not until King hands them their present from him that Ace really sees their face light up. They pull out an apron, that Ace assumes is good quality. Considering it came from King, he doubts it’s anything less than perfect.

Nobody stands up and ties the apron around themself and Ace is … compromised. They’re partner is too adorable for him. He wants to hold them and kiss them but instead he’s still sitting watching as they turn around. Ace looks to Eight hoping that he is handling this better then him but as he looks at his boyfriend he realises that he too is frozen.

It’s not until Nobody sits back down that both men move somewhat. Eight intertwines their fingers together and Ace drapes his arm around them again, both kissing the cheeks of their partner.

More gifts are given out, the one that had Ace laughing was Joker getting a #1 Dad mug. It was extremely fitting.

Then there was four presents left and Lucky jumps up to hand them out. Ace notes that she has a wicked grin and suddenly he feels fear. Lucky grinning like that was never good. She hands one to Nobody, one to each of her partners and the final one to Queen; she then sits back and watches the chaos happen.

Ace keeps his eyes on Nobody and the small box in their hands. The second the top comes off he knows and shoots a look towards Lucky. She winks at him and goes about talking to a blushing Thirteen. He assumes that she got everyone the same as what she got Nobody.

Nobody goes to take their gift out of the box and Ace places a hand over their own and when they look to him he shakes his head. Nobody’s brows furrow and they ask, “What? Why not?”

“Just,” Ace tries to think of words, “not here.”

“But what are they?”

Ace hears a noise out of Eight and looks over to see that his cheeks had turned a lovely shade of pink and that he was biting down on his lip. Ace looks down at the box and the candy underwear inside it and smirks.

“I’ll explain later. At home, yeah?”

“Okay.”

The rest of the night is uneventful, they all watch old Christmas movies that they were able to dig up. Ace swears he doesn't fall asleep during one of them. After all the hell they’ve all been through, the day has been a well needed break.

The warm feeling in his chest never dissipates and when it’s time to head home it blooms. Going home with Jacob and Averi, Daniel has never been happier.

#my writing #ace #eight #nobody #the hounds of hell #cause i am not tagging everyone

12 notes · View notes

princeoffools · 6 years

Text

//Debris

The sky is falling and where are you?

Ace/Daniel and Eight/Jacob belong to @jorgancrath

“We’re meeting up with the others, where are you?”

“Coming,” Nobody’s voice was even as they slipped down a short incline and back into the shadows of a lower street. Ace’s location pinged on the hud in their helmet like a beacon, a goal in all the chaos. Their head was spinning, their ears still ringing from a blast impacting a little too close for comfort.

They weren’t unused to combat, but they were Hidden and they were a sniper, they liked distance. They shook their head, ducking into an alleyway before slipping past a blown apart door of a small residential building.

Keep reading

#im reblogging this here #cause its just so darn good #like holy fuck #its so goddamn amazing #Nobody #Ace #Eight #friend fic

9 notes · View notes

princeoffools · 6 years

Text

//Lightless

Naos belongs to @jorgancrath

Calypso braced for another blast as shrapnel came raining down on them, a Cabal ship zipping off in an opposite direction from where they and the refugees huddled beneath their shelter.

Keep reading

#god it's so good #you kill me everytime #friend fic #calypso #naos

8 notes · View notes

princeoffools · 6 years

Text

//What Lies Beneath

Naos belongs to @jorgancrath

“What next?” Calypso called as Athena finished her scan on the terminal in front of them, a pleased hum coming from the little ghost as she circled Calypso’s head.

Keep reading

#you betcha i doing this for all of them #:D #friend fic #calypso #andal #naos #easier to die my love

3 notes · View notes

princeoffools · 6 years

Text

//Return

Continuation of this

Naos belongs to @jorgancrath

The soft beeping of Calypso’s jump ship was usually what lulled them to sleep each night, something ambient but non-intrusive, something to keep their mind off of all that they missed. But tonight was different; tonight Calypso tossed and turned in a feverish sleep, their head having felt foggy most of the day which had put them under nearly unwillingly. Something was wrong. Their first thought was Andal, he had been coming to them incessantly in their dreams, in their visions and nightmares. But tonight, it wasn’t he who they saw. It was her. Naos stood on the Moon, staring down into the Hellmouth, that confident stride of hers different than usual; it was nearly a march, stomping forward across the surface of the moon as she descended. This wasn’t just a dream, no, Calypso hadn’t had a true dream since before Andal was taken, and even then it was difficult to call anything the Thanatonaught experienced a ‘dream’.

Keep reading

#reblogging over here cause it's just so good #easier to find and reread #now i can die easier too!#friend fic #calypso #naos

4 notes · View notes

princeoffools · 6 years

Text

Way Down We Go

Calypso belongs to @gildedskeleton

“You know,” Helios says as he flies next to her, “this is a bad idea.”

Naos’ grip tightens on her rifle. She knows, she just doesn’t care. She’s angry and she needs to let off some steam. And sure maybe going down into the Hellmouth on her own wasn’t the best course of action but she automatically flew herself to the Moon. Might as well go big. ‘Cause she wasn’t going home.

Home right now was empty for her. Empty of a Gunslinger, empty of a Voidwalker. Empty and cold.

So she marches across the surface of the Moon, leaving boot marks in the dust.

As the Hellmouth comes into view she realises that she never did answer her Ghost’s question.

“I know it is Helios.”

“So,” she sees him fly at the edge of her vision. Staying close but looking around for her. “Why are we going down there?”

“I need to punch something.”

He sighs and says, “And you couldn’t just punch a punching bag because…?”

Naos turns her head to look at her Ghost, squints at him when she does.

“You know why.”

“Right, yeah. Missing partners, empty home and all that.”

Naos closes her eyes and sighs. Briefly thinks if there’s a refund for Ghosts, then shakes her head and keeps moving.

Helios flies around her, doing a full 360° sweep of the area, even flying high to get a better advantage. He’s right above her when he calls out, “Hey, isn’t there usually Fallen around here?”

She stops where she stands and waits. There’s nothing. No one shooting at her, no Eliksni shouts or curses, not even distant Fallen shapes standing around. She thinks about what it could mean and then what she came here for.

She huffs and keeps walking towards the Hellmouth.

Helios flies directly in front of her forcing her to stop. “Naos, this is bad. Can’t you see that?”

“Yes. I can. I just don’t care Helios.”

Guardian and Ghost stare each other down. Each waiting for the other to move, to break. But the Titan’s Ghost is a stubborn as the Titan. Eventually Helios dissipates and his voice comes through her helmet.

“I’m gonna send that info to the Tower. Maybe some competent Guardian will look into it.”

Naos starts walking. Again. She sighs and says, “We’ll look into it when I’m done, okay? No need to go calling in the cavalry. It’s not like they’ll do much anyway.” The last part is filled with bitterness.

They get to an opening on the surface, guarded by two ordinary knights. Both are quickly disposed of with bullets to the head. As Naos stands before it Helios’ voice comes through. It’s quiet and seems small.

“What if you die down there?”

“Then I’ll be dead and no one will know.”

“But what about…?” She knew what he wanted to say. Who he wanted to say. As if their name was taboo now.

“They left,” for the first time, her voice is soft almost sad. “I’m sure whatever Calypso’s doing is important.”

“They never said goodbye.”

Stepping through the opening Naos replies, “No, they didn’t.”

Continuing forward neither Helios or Naos speak as the Guardian mows her way through hordes of thrall that come running at her. She gets to punch some of these ones. It’s easier when there’s only a few at a time. It’s like they never learn.

Going deeper down, she shoots her way past more thrall and acolytes. Using her hand canon to rid them of life. She kills with it until it’s out of bullets and then switches back to her rifle.

She doesn’t know how long she’s been down there, doesn’t know how many dead hive she left in her wake when Helios’ voice breaks through to her.

“Why couldn’t we have just looked for them?”

Naos lets out a frustrated sigh and punches a thrall coming at her from her right. Sparks of lightning come from her fist as it makes contact with the thrall’s head. She waits another second to answer.

“It’s hard to look for someone when they don’t want to be found.”

She hears Helios hum in agreement and she moves forward. Cutting through more hive.

It’s not long after that Naos goes to pull the trigger of her rifle, ready to shoot an acolyte that was for some reason running at her, when nothing happens. She pulls the trigger a few more times just to make sure.

Shit.

She quickly changes to her shotgun and blasts the acolyte in its three-eyed face. As it crumples to dust in front of her she swears very loudly.

“Rifle out of ammo?”

“Yup.”

“Well,” Helios says, “shit.”

She laughs through her nose at that. “My thoughts exactly.”

Helios appears in front of her as she’s replacing the last shell in her shotgun. He goes down and scans the dust. Comes back up and flies around her.

“Okay,” he’s right in front of her, equal height to her helmet. He stares her down. “Two of your guns are out of ammo, that’s not a normal acolyte and the Darkness is getting thicker. Can we please leave now?”

Naos stares at him for a moment then side steps around her Ghost and keeps moving forward. Going down deeper into the hive fortress.

She hears Helios make a frustrated noise behind her then his voice is back through her helmet.

“Do you have a death wish or something?”

“Nope,” she pops the p sound.

“Then why are still down here?”

“I still have my shotgun and my fists. We keep moving.”

Helios gives a very annoyed sigh, but otherwise stays quiet.

Naos walks down a very empty hall with stairs at the end, when she hears a cry echo from the direction she’s facing. Then the sounds of running reach her ears.

“That,” Helios says “does not sound good.”

A few seconds later many thrall and acolytes appear at the end of the hallway, top of the stairs, all running, heading towards her. Naos places her feet, pops a shield in front of her and raises her shotgun.

The thrall come in fast and subsequently blind themselves as they run through her shield. She punches them, not wanting to waste precious ammo. As her shield collapses she moves forward, blasting thrall and acolyte alike with her shotgun. When she uses up a magazine and a half suddenly the acolytes still left stop shooting at her and turn tail. They run back down the stairs and she’s left in silence.

“That,” Helios injects into the silence “can not be good.”

Naos pops another shield in preparation of whatever’s coming. Reloads her shotgun and focuses her light.

The ground underneath her shakes as something moves close by. She watches behind her shield as the top of a knight’s head becomes visible at the stairs. She watches as it grows, as it makes it’s way upstairs. For a brief moment she’s scared, the knight in front of her is huge and she’s alone down here. No one even knows that she’s down here.

The knight stops a few feet away from her. Stares her down as it swings its cleaver around. Naos’ shield drops and she takes off running toward the knight. She jumps up and activates her super, smashes the ground as she lands with lightning where the knight stands.

She stands up as the ground pulsates with aftershocks and looks up at the knight. It stands tall and she swears she can feel it grinning at her. It brings it’s weapon up, hitting her with an uppercut and damaging her immensely, cracking her visor and pushing her back a little.

Naos brings up her shotgun and empties the magazine as the knight runs towards her. It doesn’t flinch even a little and Naos curses as the knight swings wide and its cleaver collides into her left side slamming her against the rough wall of the hallway. Her right shoulder piece gets smashed and falls off.

“Great. We good for another shield Helios?”

“Ready.”

Naos puts up another shield consequently pinning herself against the wall. She uses the time to reload her shotgun and concentrates on her light. The second her shield drops she once again activates her super, once again hitting the ground by the knight with lightning. Once again the knight seems to just shrug it off and lifts its cleaver for another attack. Naos keeps her eyes on the weapon, thinking maybe she can dodge it.

Instead of being hit from the left Naos is captured by the knights left hand. Her back is pushed against the wall and she is lifted up by her head until her feet are dangling. She still holds her shotgun and she lifts it, aims it right at the knight’s head and empties the magazine.

The knight shakes it’s head and squeezes around Naos’ helmet. The crack gets bigger in her visor and eventually it shatters. She feels some of the shards imbed themselves into her face, thankfully none piecing her eyes or coming close to damaging them. The knight squeezes harder.

Naos hears a hiss as Helios undoes the clasps of her helmet. She drops to her feet and suddenly the world is no longer a bright green but rather the muted tones she’s used to.

She quickly moves out of the knights reach. Then slows, loads the last two shells she has into her shotgun and turns to face the knight. It still has her helmet in it’s hand and she watches as it lifts it up for her to see, as if it’s showing it off. It closes it’s fist and the helmet bends and crumples. The sound of it makes her heart sink.

Naos pops another shield, but she notices that it’s already cracking. Standing behind it, she realises her breathing is heavier. She’s pushing herself and her light to the limits.

“We good for another ground pound?”

“I wish,” Helios’ voice comes through her helmet quieter like he’s far away from her, “you didn’t call it that but yes. You’re good.”

Naos smirks at the knight, wipes her brow with the back of her hand. She dislodges some of the shards from her visor, it makes the blood flow more freely down her face. She curses slightly at her own mistake. Hopes it doesn’t impair her vision.

“Could really use some healing here Helios.”

Her Ghost’s voice is the same as last time, quiet, distant. Though this time Naos can hear a hint of panic in his tone. “I… I can’t. The Darkness is overwhelming. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’ll be fine.” She says the last mostly to convince herself. She’ll be fine.

The knight starts sprinting at her as her shield drops. Once again she jumps into the air and slams the ground when she lands. For the first time it looks like the knight took some damage and staggers back as it’s trapped in the pulsating wake of arc damage.

Naos sprints and slides underneath the knight, empties the last two shells into its abdomen. Now behind it, she bashes the back of one of its knees with the stock of her shotgun. It falls and Naos uses this opportunity to climb on top of it. One arm going around its shoulder to hang on. Once the aftershocks from her Fist of Havoc stop the knight stands and turns. Quickly moves against the wall, it rams Naos’ back against it again. She feels her back piece bend inwards. Can feel it puncture the skin. Can feel hot blood leak from it.

Gathering strength and leftover light, she punches the side of the knight’s head. Sparks fly as her fist makes contact. The knight stumbles away from the wall but reaches behind itself. Once again grabbing a hold of Naos. Though this time it flings her across the hallway. She lands on her back, bounces, flips and lands face down on the floor.

She groans as she pushes herself up, noticing that her chest piece is now cracked, she’s missing more pieces of her armour and that even her under armour is ripped in places. The smell of blood reaches her nose as she stands up and when she looks down at herself she grimaces. She’s not given much time to inspect her wounds before the knight swings at her again.

This time she manages to dodge the attack and watches as the cleaver embeds itself in the ground where she just was. Naos curses in her head then runs at the knight again. Without any weapons left she uses both hands to punch. She centres her blows on the area on its abdomen that she shot earlier. As her punches connect she watches cracks form in the knights armour.

She feels the knight grab her back and pull, sending her flying backwards. She skids across the floor on her back, scruffing up what remains of her armour. The bent back pierce digs into the already bleeding wound and it hurts like hell. She feels the exposed under armour rip and tear, and then new cuts opening up on her body.

Naos grits her teeth, tries not to think of the pain. Tries not to think about the amount of wounds she has. She takes a shaky breath in, and winces, she thinks a few ribs are broken. It wouldn’t surprise her if there was some internal bleeding.

As she stands on shaking legs, Helios’ question echoes in her head. What if you die down there?

Naos looks up at the knight, notices it’s no longer spinning it's cleaver around. Not showing off anymore. She hopes she did a considerable amount of damage to it. Hopes it’s almost dead.

She hears a guttural noise come from the knight and then it charges at her again, if she were to guess she would say it’s pissed. Naos moves as quickly as she can out of the way, delivering two more punches as the knight passes her. It digs its cleaver into the ground ripping it up as it slows down. By the time the knight stops, the cleaver looks fairly stuck in the ground.

The knight runs at her again sans cleaver. Naos plants her feet, raises her fists, if this turns into a boxing match she plans on winning. The knight swings wide and she’s able to duck under it. Delivering two more hits into its abdomen.

In theory she has the advantage here. She just has to hold out, hold out until the knight is dead. Has to keep focus on what she’s doing. The pain can come later.

After a few more of the same tactics, the knight making swings for her and herself continuing to hit that one area, the knight falls. Naos feels nothing except the exhaustion and the pain from her wounds.

Helios appears in front of her and she sees he’s shaking. When he speaks it’s the same, quiet, distant. “We need to go now. You’re very heavily injured.”

Naos goes to laugh, instead she doubles over coughing, ending in her coughing up blood. She spits some of the blood mixed with spit at the feet of the knight.

“Okay, we’re leaving.”

As Naos starts slowly walking by the knight, she hears a cry go out behind her. She stops and half turns, looks at Helios beside her.

“Remember those acolytes that ran away before, do you think they called the cavalry?”

Helios looks to the stairs, then to his Guardian and then back to the stairs. “You need to run. You need to run now Naos.”

Naos goes to start running, realises that it hurts too much so she moves as fast as she can. Unfortunately it’s not fast enough. She gets shot multiple times. Each shot stings and bleeds but keeps moving, she has little to no way to fight back. She hopes she can make it to the surface, to her ship.

After some time, she’s not sure how long, the hive sounds that have followed her thus far are no more. She keeps moving. Moving past the death and destruction that she created. Moving despite the pain, despite the exhaustion, and the darkness that’s closing in around her.

Naos isn’t sure how long she’s been down there but finally, finally she sees the opening that she walked through. She stumbles towards it. Barely makes it out onto the surface of the moon. But she has to keep moving. Just has to get to her ship now.

Naos looks up and she doesn’t believe what she sees. A warlock heading towards her, but they stop and stare. Naos smiles to herself, they’re okay. She goes to take a step forward but her legs give out. Had to happen eventually.

As she falls and the blackness consumes her, she swears that she can hear them shouting her name.

The next time consciousness comes to Naos she’s still in the dark. She can hear someone talking though she doesn't know who or what they’re saying. It’s soft and muffled but the words aren’t making sense. Then there’s silence but only for a beat and someone’s yelling. The words are nothing but noise but she knows… she knows that voice. Calypso.

She wants to call out. Wants to hold Calypso in her arms and never let go. Wants to tell them that she loves them and they’re not allowed to run off on her again.

But her mouth won't open. Her body won't move. And the blackness consumes her again.

She wakes to the sound of a machine beeping and it takes her a while to realise its in tune with her heart. Slowly she opens her eyes and is greeted with the most beautiful sight she’s ever seen.

Calypso is bent over her bed, head resting on folded arms, fast asleep. Naos realises that they are holding onto her hand and she smiles to herself. She takes their joined hands, brings them her lips and places a soft kiss on Calypso’s. She closes her eyes and welcomes the more peaceful sleep that follows.

Home was no longer empty.

#this got fucking long #holy moly #naos #calypso #helios

3 notes · View notes

princeoffools · 7 years

Text

Waltz

If you want the full experience listen to this while reading.

Iron Banner was over and Arra found herself at Felwinter’s Peak, definitely not dressed for the weather. But it had been so long since she was asked to dance that the second Saladin suggested it she had instantly said yes.

However something was wrong. Saladin was in front of her with a hand behind his head with an almost embarrassed look on his face.

“I believe,” he began, “that there was a miscommunication.”

Arra shifts her weight to her right foot and crosses her arms over her chest. “Yes I think there was.”

For Arra, dressed in a very fancy red dress was faced with Saladin who was dressed in training gear. He also held a bo staff in his other hand.

“When you said dance,” Arra said “I thought you meant dance. As in a waltz or something similar.”

He looks at her, drops the bo staff and ran both hands down his face and made a sound of a dying animal. Arra couldn’t help but laugh at him. Never has a miscommunication been so amusing to her. In that moment Arra decides to throw him a bone.

She uncrosses her arms and walks until she was right in front of him, then she gently takes his hands from his face. They face each other and she speaks.

“Do you want to fight or dance Saladin?”

He looks from their joined hands to her face, looks into her eyes and said “It has been too many years since I’ve dance Arrakis. I’m not sure I’d even know how. Fighting would suit me more.”

She laughs at that. “Saladin dear, I can teach you how to dance, that’s no problem. In fact I believe it would be fun.”

“You not going to let the dancing thing go are you Arrakis?”

“Nope,” she hums. “I got all dressed up for this. However if you really don’t want to dance I will fight in this dress. Just know that you will be responsible for ruining it.”

Saladin laughs. “Now we can’t have that can we?” He sighs, squeezes her hands a bit and says “Okay, teach me.”

Arra teaches him the simplest waltz she knows and she must say he picks it up quickly. She has Leto play some of her music, thankfully she does have the Masquerade Suite available. Of course she leads while they dance though she does promise next time he can lead. Arra swears she can see a red tint to his cheeks at that.

“Next time?” He asks.

“Why yes,” Arra smiles at him as they move. “You don’t think I’m going to let your dancing skills get shoddy now, do you? After all the hard work I’m putting in and all.”

After a while they are gliding across the floor and Arra feels at home. What she didn’t mention to Saladin was that it has also been a long while since she has danced with anybody else. The training and routines she has for herself are only her old ballet routines. The ones she can remember anyway. But this, this is lovely.

Dancing with a partner, even one that hasn’t danced in years was so nice. Once Arra has had her fill and Saladin now knows how to dance the waltz they stop. Fortunately since Saladin thought they were sparring he had water bottles handy. When Arra was hydrated she grabs her knife and cuts her dress down the left side. Saladin sees this and is rightly surprised.

“What are you doing?”

“I,” Arra says as she’s trying the now ripped pieces of her dress into a nice bow at her hip. “Am ruining my dress so we can fight.”

Saladin stops and stares at her. “Excuse me? I thought the dancing was in place of the fighting.”

Arra hums, finishes off the bow. “It was, but then I thought to myself ‘it’s been so long since I’ve trained with an old friend.’ So, now we fight.”

He shakes he and then picks up two bo staffs, hands one to Arra. They stand opposite of each other, each getting ready.

“Whenever you’re ready Arrakis.”

Arra smirks and says, “Leto, if you please.”

Leto once again begins to play Masquerade Suite and Arra makes the first move.

They go a few rounds but after having danced multiple waltzes both were already getting tired. Both were already sweating as if they had just fought double the rounds they did.

After a short break, Saladin gathers the bo staffs and hands Arra a rubber practice knife. She looks at it for a moment and then back to him.

“You know I’m better with a knife then you, right?”

“Yes,” he chuckles, “I know. You are clearly better at dancing too but that didn’t stop you, did it?”

Arra flips the knife, getting a feel for it. What she said was true, years of being a Bladedancer has honed her skills with a knife. She is still learning how to fight a staff proficiently.

Again they stand across from each other, Arra bent slightly, she had a plan and Traveler be damned she was going to pull it off. At Leto’s mark she darts forward.

Before he knows what has happened Saladin is on his back, has a rubber knife against his throat and Hunter straddling him. The Hunter in question has the most shit-eating grin he has even seen.

“I told you Saladin. I’m better with a knife.”

Without thinking Saladin gently grabs her face and pulls her down. They kiss until they are both out of breath and even then they are still close. Saladin breaks the silence first, while his hands still cupped her face.

“Arrakis I… I’m sorry.”

She stares at him for a moment before bursting out laughing. “You know, it’s been a long time since anyone has kissed me like that. Don’t be sorry.” She inches closer until their lips brush. “Maybe we can do this again sometime. Maybe with more kissing, yes?”

#arrakis dromedarii #saladin #lord saladin #destiny #this is 100% self indulgent #i heard the line #and i needed to write something #the kiss just kinda happened #but idc #it's my birthday present to myself #screw it

29 notes · View notes

princeoffools · 7 years

Text

Gold

It's been weeks now since she stopped by. Weeks since she asked for his help. And he couldn't have said to no to her. How could he after all she's done for him. But this... he was not qualified for this. In no way was he capable of looking after a child. A six year old child at that.

He lived in the sewers for crying out loud. That can not be the best for this child. Then again, she did say to keep her hidden. Keep her safe. The child in question was staring at him now, from the other side of the table. Swinging her legs underneath the table, with big brown eyes and marked ears. Ailith.

Marcus leans back in his chair, crosses his arms and stares back. She looks so small. So fragile.

A child of six given to him. Oh how cruel the world works.

She only asked after her mother once and no more. And he's heard her small childish voice sing soft lullabies at night. It only reminds him how deep he was in it.

He has no idea what to do with her. He doesn’t know how to raise a child. To top it all off he had a job coming up that he can not reschedule or just not do. He could bring her along… nope, bad idea. He cannot endanger this child. Not so soon at least. But he can't leave her here on her own.

He chews on his bottom lip and looks at her. Weighing his options. He could get her some black clothes and a hood, maybe some armour just in case. Teach her the basics. Keep her safe. By his side was the safer option, right? Right.

He sits up, resting his crossed arms on the table. Looks into those eyes. She copies him. He admits it's kind of cute.

“What languages do you know?” He never did ask her mother, but if he was going to bring her along he needed to plan.

“Common,” her voice was quiet, soft like her mother’s. “Elvish and Sylvan.”

So no Halfling. He could always teach her. Maybe not for this job but for future ones. Then again, maybe he was getting ahead of himself.

“Tomorrow,” he switches to Elvish. He needs to gauge how much she knows. “We go shopping for new clothes for you. You’ll stay close to me the entire time, okay? No wandering off,” he smiles at her, sinks down so his head is resting on his arms. “And then we’re going to have some fun.”

Ailith smiles at him, seems like the idea of fun is appealing. In Elvish she asks, “What kind of fun?”

“We’re going to play some games, like hide-and-seek and tag,” he figures they’re the best ways to teach her what she needs right now. When they have more time he can train her properly. “What do you think of that?”

“They sound fun. Are you going to teach me how to play?”

He laughs at that. “Yes, I am.”

True to his word Marcus brought Ailith shopping. She stayed close to him the entire day and she even held his hand or onto his cloak as the walked around the more busier areas.

He had to get the clothes tailor made for her because people don’t really make roguish clothes and armour for six-year-olds. Granted, the woman he asked to make them cooed over Ailith. She made sure that his “little one” would be well protected. She didn’t ask any questions.

While it took a day for the clothes to be made it gave him time to explain how to play the games to Ailith. She seemed to understand the rules well enough. They even played a couple of games of hide-and-seek in the sewers. Away from the areas that people walked through.

Marcus knew playing this with a child, a small child at that could be dangerous but it wasn’t until he couldn’t find Ailith that he began to worry. He searched up and down the area he told her to stay in, he even tried to check the smaller places he couldn’t really fit in. It got to the point where he was actually calling out her name.

He stood in the middle of the area, sat down with his legs crossed underneath him. He put his face in his hands and began to wonder how long it would take Manto to kill him after she found out he lost her child.

While he was considering running for his life, a soft voice spoke from the shadows next to him.

“Did I win?”

He looks up slowly and there she stands, a giant smile on her face. Ailith. Thank Ivotah. He stands up and then thinks better of it. He crouches down so he’s face to face with her.

“Ailith,” he speaks slowly. “Were you there the entire time?”

She nods, still with that big smile. How did he miss her? It’s in this moment that Marcus knew that looking after her and keeping her in check was going to be difficult.

“Next time I start calling out your name you come straight to me. Okay?”

“Okay,” she nods again.

He takes a deep breath and stands up. “Let’s go home, shall we?” He holds out his hand to her and she takes it. They walk home, sticking to the shadows, hand in hand.

The next day they pick up her new clothes and they fit perfectly. She looks like a little shadow; and if she can disappear as well as she did yesterday, she was going to be one helluva rogue.

He spends the rest of the time before the job teaching Ailith more. How to hide better, how to spot things worth taking and to know when to run.

With her new gear she disappears into the shadows so easily. Marcus knows she’s going to be amazing.

The day of the job Marcus goes over the plan again with Ailith. Make sure she knows what to do. She is to stay hidden and close to him. That’s it.

Marcus has Ailith walk in front of him so he can keep an eye on her, every so often she looks back. Whether it’s to make sure he’s still there or to make sure she’s going the right way he doesn't know. But each time he sees her turn around Marcus gives her a little nod, to reassure her. They make their way to the house with relative ease.

From the information he has the house should be empty. The occupants are out at a social gathering and shouldn’t be back for a few hours.

He unlocks the back door with ease and lets Ailith in first. He follows behind locking the door afterwards.

He sees Ailith standing close to the wall, staying hidden, waiting for him. She learns quickly.

“Come little one,” he says it in Elvish to her as he makes his way upstairs. He looks back once to make sure Ailith is following him.

He starts looking through the rooms. What he was paid to steal should be in the study. A bundle of incriminating notes about something or other. But anything that catches his eye is his to take.

He searches what he guesses is a guest bedroom first because there’s nothing at all in it; the drawers and wardrobe are empty. Next is the bathroom, nothing worth taking there.

The next room he looks into is the study. Marcus heads straight to the desk on the other side of the room and looks for traps, hidden buttons. Nothing. Either the people were so convinced that nobody could get to them or they were stupid. Really it just makes his job easier.

Once he finds the letters, easily tucked away in the bottom drawer, he looks up and notices the lack of a little shadow that was supposed to be following him. He curses under his breath. This was not the time for her little disappearing act.

Marcus heads back the way they came searching rooms that he had already looked though. No sign of Ailith. He prays. Prays she’s still in the house. Prays that she’s okay.

He makes his way forward, into rooms he hasn’t reached yet. Opening the door to what he assumes is the master bedroom he releases a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. Ailith. She’s standing with her back to him and doesn't notice his entrance.

Marcus walks forward and crouches down next to her. She doesn't look at him.

“Ailith,” he whispers it in Elvish. “What did I say about disappearing on me?”

“That,” she says, still not looking up at him. “I probably shouldn’t do it. Not yet. It scares you.”

He… did not tell her that last part. But he can’t blame her. He did freak out a bit when he couldn’t find her the first time.

He opens his mouth to reply but notices she has something in her hands.

“What do you got there?”

Finally she looks at him. Then back at what she’s holding. “It was sitting there. It’s shiny.”

He holds out his hand a bit. “Can I see it?”

He swears that he sees her little hands tighten on whatever it is. She looks back to him, eyebrows drawn.

“Will you give it back to me?” She asks.

Marcus gives her a small smile and a nod. “Of course,” he says.

Slowly Ailith opens her hands and Marcus notices she’s right, whatever she has catches the moonlight coming in through the window and it shines. And into his hand she drops a gold pocket watch.

He notes that whoever this belongs to must have spent a fortune on it. He doesn’t know much about pocket watches but considering the ornate design on the case, Ailith struck gold. He opens it and it works perfectly. Now why would someone leave this lying around, he wonders.

He hands it back to Ailith and she clutched it close to her chest.

“Do you want to keep it?” He feels he already knows the answer but he might as well ask.

She gives small, fast nods in reply.

He smiles at her, already stealing at such a young age. Marcus wonders, once again why Manto gave her child to thief and a criminal. Surely she must have guessed what would happen.

He tells Ailith to stay right there while he searches the rest of the house. Maybe if she’s told to stay put she will.

Marcus doesn’t find much more of value but what he does find will do. Plus he’ll get payment when he hands over the letters.

When he gets back to tell Ailith they're going home he notices that she looks tired. And it’s then that he realises that it’s late and Ailith, a child he reminds himself, should be already asleep at this time.

He holds her hand as they make their way out of the house and down a few side streets. Then when he thinks they’re far enough away he picks her up and puts her on his back. She doesn’t seem to mind. He notices that she’s light and that she’s still holding on to the pocket watch.

He heads home sticking to side streets and back alleys. They get home quickly and safely. It’s tricky getting down with Ailith on his back but he manages. He heads to what is considered the bedroom and starts taking off her armour. He leaves her in the clothes, she’s falling asleep standing up and pyjamas take time to put on. He then carefully places Ailith into her bedroll. She’s still tightly holding onto the gold pocket watch.

As he’s leaving the room Ailith mumbles something in Elvish that he just barely catches.

“Night Dad,” her voice is soft and heavy with sleep.

Marcus freezes, oh that’s… not good. He looks back to her sleeping form and she is out cold. He starts to wonder if she even realises what she just said. But still he smiles and starts leaving the room. He stops at the doorway and turns back.

“Good night Little Shadow.”

When he gets back to the living area he sinks into a chair and sighs. He just knows that he’s not ready to raise a child and knows that Ailith is going to be trouble. It is going to be interesting and fun though.

#ailith #marcus #dnd #ayyy first dnd fic #ft. papa marcus #and a baby ailith

4 notes · View notes

princeoffools · 7 years

Text

Tragedy

They were told about Alexa from a man in a decorated suit. He stood outside their door with a folded flag and a medal. They were told she died a hero. Like the death of their little girl wasn’t heartbreaking. As if the moment they closed the door Olive wasn’t going to start crying and mourning her. As if Gabriel wasn’t going to curse out the military for killing his baby.

Gabriel was tasked with telling Dylan. He and Alexa were always close, he knew his son wasn’t going to take it well. And he didn’t. Dylan cried to his father on the phone. He asked about a funeral. Asked about her things. With negative answers for both he too cursed out the military that killed his baby sister. He swore he was going to drive down to them, screw anything he had coming up. They needed him.

Dylan never made it to them. Driving in anger and in the dark was not a good combination. He hit something. Then hit his head. The car went up in flames.

It was two weeks after Alexa.

They got to bury their son. It was a closed casket ceremony. He was too burned up to have anything else.

They lost both of their children in the span of two weeks.

Olive doesn't go upstairs anymore. Doesn’t go through the photo albums that are in her drawer. She gets distant and Gabriel worries.

A month after Dylan, she passes away in her sleep. He’s told it was peaceful. He’s told it was heartbreak.

He’s alone now. A big house that once held his wife, his son and his daughter now only has him inside of it.

He cries and he mourns.

A month after his wife he too passes away in his sleep. The newspapers say it was heartbreak. Their extended family is told he passed peacefully.

Nobody goes after the house the Hayes family lived in. Some say it’s cursed. A month after you visit you’ll die.

It stays untouched until a woman called Lucky goes home. She takes some things but not all.

Two weeks after her visit Dylan’s grave is disturbed by Icarus.

Olive and Gabriel met each other on the other side. They look after their children from above. They have faced enough tragedy.

#Hayes family #Lucky #Dylan Hayes #this is what happens when I can’t sleep #and i feel like shit #death and tragedy #I’m sorry Hayes family #but not really #edit: apparently I forgot to post this last night #well this morning #whoops

3 notes · View notes

princeoffools · 7 years

Text

Serenity

They spend the next few days wandering around. Ace gathering and seeing what weapons they have here and if they are useful. He’s found several weapons that are good enough for him. A couple of autos, a few scouts and an extra sniper that has a permanent home on the roof. Just in case. He carries around the one Ghost found.

Ace goes about cleaning the weapons he found, marking sure that can in fact fire. It’s another thing his body just knows how to do. Taking apart the weapons, cleaning the parts and putting the gun back together again.

While he’s doing that Ghost tries to explain the Last City, the Tower and how the Guardians all fit. It’s a lot of history but still, he finds it interesting. Ghost also expands on what they know about the Light and it’s different types. Ace finally explains what and who Batman is.

They spend a whole two days trying to figure out what type of Light Ace has but to no avail. It was a lot a Ghost going “Just imagine it” and Ace responding “I’m trying.”

It’s at the end of one of these days when the sun has set that Ace and Ghost find themselves lying on the roof. Ace without his helmet and gloves. Ghost has again gotten comfortable on his chest. They tend to sleep like that now. Ghost on his chest and being held close.

Ace is looking up at the sky and his memories aren't all there but he knows the sky. Knows that it's used to be pitch black without a single star. Then it was full of them, so similar to the sky he’s looking at now.

He remembers a night, a dark night with others. Friends? No… family. He remembers being hurt, in pain. Remembers a woman, Lucky his mind provides. She was putting on something for all of them to watch. Just like home she said. He remembers a body under his arm, pressed up against his side.

He doesn't remember what they all looked like, and only Lucky’s name is provided. But he remembers there was nine of them all together. All in one room to watch something.

He remembers what it was. Remembers how it made him feel. They weren't on a ship in space but they were family nonetheless. This was home. His home.

He smiles to himself. Closes his eyes.

“How would you like a name Ghost? An identity.” He asks.

“I’d love one. But if I don't like it, we'll keep thinking.”

Ace smiles and laughs a bit. He opens his eyes, looks down at his Ghost on his chest and says “Serenity.”

“I like it,” she hums and she seems content.

He reaches a hand out so it's perpendicular to his body. Reaches out to the stars, wishes to touch them. He closes his hand around a cluster of them. He thinks of Lucky, about the body pressed up against his, about his family, and about the sky.

Everything and everyone he once loved is gone but not the sky. That will always be there.

He opens his hand, slowly. Leaves the stars go. This is it. It’s just him and Serenity now.

Ace closes his eyes, arm still outstretched. In that moment he swears he can touch the sky. It’s not the stars though but the inky darkness that surrounds them. That has been the only constant in his life. The pitch black of the sky at night.

Only now in his mind’s eye there’s a purple hint to it. He strains his hand out. Wants to touch it. Can feel it calling him.

Somehow, someway he’s getting closer and he can feel it now. The pull.

His fingertips brush something and his eyes snap open. He bring his arm down and sits up slowly, making sure Serenity is okay. Ace can feel the adrenaline coursing through his body. It’s something he knows he is used to.

Serenity flies up so they are face to face.

“What was that?” He asks.

“You just touched the Void,” she sounds surprised, happy even.

Ace is confused and “What’s the Void?”

Serenity flies up towards the sky, but not too far. “The Void is the closest a Guardian can come to the Darkness. Without succumbing to the Darkness of course.” She flies around him, “Ace, I think you can use Void Light.”

“I don’t think a void can have light,” he mumbles to himself. He knows otherwise. Serenity explained it all earlier. But still she seems peeved. She knocks into his side. “Don’t think then. Feel. It called out to you.”

“If you say ‘just imagine’ I’m leaving” Ace stands up, stretches out his whole body. Gets ready for… whatever is about to happen.

Serenity flies around him again. “Just close your eyes and think.”

“You just told me not to think.”

“Ace.”

He sighs, closes his eyes and tries to recreate what he felt just a little bit ago. He thinks about the darkness that has been ever present in his life. And he sees it, sees that hint of purple. It calls to him. Can hear it singing to him.

He wraps his hand around something and pulls. He opens his eyes and in his hand is bow. He brings his other hand up and an arrow appears from nothing. He aims to sky, to the stars that shine so bright. Ace releases the arrow and it goes soaring into the night sky. The bow dissipates back to where he called it from.

“You did it!” Serenity makes a happy noise and flies into him as a show of affection. “You did it Ace!”

“Yeah,” he certainly did something.

He looks down at his hand, the one that held the bow. Open, close. Open, close. The adrenaline that was once in his body is gone and he is left feeling tired and drained.

Ace lies back down on the roof, Serenity gets comfortable on his chest again and they fall asleep like that.

#Ace #Serenity #shorter then what i would have like #but #i do have one other thing for ace coming up #destiny

7 notes · View notes

princeoffools · 7 years

Text

Sharpshooter

When he wakes it's with blinding pain and before he knows why, it's gone. For a moment he thinks it was a dream but the word doesn't fit right with him. A memory? Bingo.

A memory of pain but without the memory. He sits there not opening his eyes, afraid to see what world he'll wake up in.

He feels like he should know what it's like to wake up in a place he didn't fall asleep in. Why he feels like this though is… a mystery.

He thinks, still with his eyes closed. Tries to remember anything. A lesson comes to mind. A lesson taught by someone close, someone important. What was it again? Think, think.

Something clicks. Three things; his name, the date and the location.

First his name. What was his name? He... he doesn't know. Okay, no need to panic, he thinks to himself. Names are just things used to identify yourself.

Second the date. What was the date? Hell even what day it is would work but he doesn't know that one either.

Okay, it's fine. It's fine.

Lastly location. Where was he? He doesn't know, he still has his eyes closed. He knows he’s sitting up, knows he’s not tied down. Why would I be tied down? Something in his mind comes and goes too fast for him to know but he feels like his wrists have had bindings restricting his movements before. Not now, revisit that later, he thinks.

He sighs. If he can't answer where he is with his eyes open he's screwed. Slowly he opens his eyes and what he sees is not what he was expecting. Then again he doesn’t quite know what he was expecting.

He's sitting in the wreckage of something. A plane? No, something smaller. A jet? A fighter jet at that. An old rusted fighter jet in the middle of what looks like a desert. He can see other wrecked jets off in the distance. Four all together. Five including the one he’s sitting in.

Okay, so he has no idea where he is or how he got here. No idea what date it is or even what his fucking name is. He raises a hand and realises he’s wearing… armour? Why is he in armour? He tries to think of anything, anything at all that will clue him into what is going on.

As he's thinking a small drone flies into his field of vision startling him. He hand twitches, wanting to reach for something but he doesn't know what.

He's starting to get pissed off at his circumstances and his lack of knowing things.

The small drone in front of him starts to speak. “Guardian! Good you’re awake,” he notices it has a feminine voice. “We need to move the Fallen are closing in and we have nothing to fight with.”

There were some words in there that he didn’t understand. Guardian? Fallen?

How long was he asleep? Is he still dreaming? Is it a nightmare?

The small drone starts to move off before noticing he hasn't moved. They come back quickly and speak just as quickly.

“Come on, we need to move now.”

He is confused and he has no idea what the fuck going on.

“I don't… what?”

Somehow the small drone gets closer to him and he can hear the stress in their voice. “If we don't move now we are going to die.” Die?! “So move it Guardian. I can explain later, when we're safe.”

He pushes himself out of the rusted old jet and follows the small drone.

He walks for a while just following along. They make it to an old building, it looks like it’s been hit by a bomb or several. The second he thinks that something flashes in his head.

Fire and screaming and this wasn’t supposed to happen and a voice, softly saying something but he doesn’t quite know what.

He stops where he is and crouches down holding his head. A small part of him notices he’s wearing a helmet. His breathing comes fast and he can’t catch his breath. He feels like he should be coughing but knows he doesn’t need to. What the fuck was that? Why does it hurt and why do I feel like I have smoke in my lungs?

After a while he manages to gets his breathing under control. He sits down where he is, legs stretched out before him and looks up, somehow the small drone looks concerned.

“Are you okay?”

“Christ, do I look okay to you?” He spits with venom on every word. “I have no idea who I am, where I am, what day it is or even what the fuck is happening. I think I just had a flashback or something.” He collapses onto his back on the ground, arms outstretched on either side of him, looking up at the dilapidated ceiling. “And I’m talking to a fucking floating robot. Am I going insane?” He mostly says the last part to himself.

He can hear it flying around, doing… something or other. He doesn’t care at this point. As his lying there the drone flies above him, he notices it’s out of his reaching distance.

“I’ve scanned the area and we can stay here for the night. For some reason it seems like the Fallen don’t like this place.”

He sighs, sits up and goes to rubs his head with the heel of his hand but the helmet he’s wearing gets in the way. A single thought comes to mind, fuck this and with that he takes his helmet off. He spins it around in his hands and he can make out his face in the visor. Well, that certainly is his face right there, at least he recognises himself. He sighs again, puts the helmet down next to him. He brings a knee up and rests an arm on it, looks to where the drone is floating nearby.

“Okay robot, we’re safe so start explaining.”

This time the drone sighs and comes a bit closer.

“I’m a Ghost and you are my Guardian. I was born from the Traveler and I… resurrected you to fight the Darkness,” at this they pause seeming to give him time. When that word finally sinks in he falls backwards, once again looking up at the ceiling.

“You mean I died?!”

They float above him so he can still see them and this time they’re closer to him, within reaching distance. “Unfortunately yes.”

“How long was I dead?”

“I don't know, but judging from where I found you... you’ve been dead for a very long time.”

He closes his eyes. He wants something, something to hold. He keeps speaking, keeps asking questions. Just not about how he was dead and now he’s not. “So these Fallen, are they part of the Darkness?”

“Not really. They’re pirates and scavengers. I believe they want to take the Traveler.”

“Okay, this is… this is all too much. I'm going to sleep even though I just woke from a probably thousand year nap but who fucking cares. Wake me when the sun comes up.”

“Okay, um… I know that you don’t know your name but do you have anything that I can call you by?”

“Do you?”

A beat of silence then the small drone speaks up, “No, but you can call me Ghost.”

He gives them a short laugh. “That’s what you are right? By those standards you can call me Guardian.”

“Then I will. Goodnight Guardian.”

He sighs, he doesn't like it. The title isn't his name. He wants, no needs to remember what it was.

He feels something hit his chest and when he cracks open an eye to see what it was, he sees his ghost lying there. He brings his arm around them and turns so he's laying on his side, Ghost still held close to his chest. “Goodnight Ghost,” he mumbles as he closes his eyes again.

When he opens his eyes again, sun is shining in through the holes and cracks in the building. He’s still lying on his side only Ghost is no longer being held against his chest. Great.

He sits up, rubs his eye and stretches. Even though he is in armour he notices he can move freely. It’s not restricting to his movements. As he’s reaching for his helmet Ghost comes flying in from somewhere off to his left. They come right up to him and they sound cheery.

“I’ve scanned the whole place and I was right. There’s no signs of the Fallen being here and they didn’t attack us in the night, so I think we’re good. If you want we can stay here until you’re ready to move.”

He picks up his helmet and puts in on. It feels familiar and God, is this what having amnesia feels like? He looks up at Ghost and he decides they need a name. He needs to figure out his own name too. He shakes his head, one thing at a time.

“Where exactly would be moving to?” He asks.

“South, that’s where the Last City and the Tower is,” they paused for a moment and explain. “The Tower is where the Guardians live, think of it like a hub, a base. The Last City is well… it’s the last safe city on Earth. The Guardians look after it and it’s citizens.”

He hums, “So we’re kinda like Batman.” The fuck? Why can he remember who and what Batman is but not his own goddamn name?!

“Um, yes?”

He just shakes his head at Ghost. He does not want to explain Batman right now.

“Oh-kay. Anyway, I found some weapons that still might be useable and if we’re staying we can try to figure out what type of Light you have.”

“Weapons sound good,” he says with a nod of his head. “When you say ‘type of Light’ what do you mean?”

“Oh, right. I’ll explain as we’re walking,” with that Ghost starts moving in the direction they just came from. The Guardian gets up and jogs to catch up with his Ghost. They start talking as he walks alongside them.

“Guardians are born from the Light and they can wield it as a weapon. Currently there’s three types of Light: Arc, Void and Solar. Each Guardian is born being able to use one and if they chose they can learn to wield the other types but they can only use one at a time.”

“So how exactly do we figure out what type I have?”

“I…” They look to their Guardian. “I don’t know.”

“We are just two things full of knowledge aren’t we,” he says it sarcastically.

They walk in silence for a while, whatever this building was before it was large. They pass by many rooms, Ghost bypassing them quickly. After another little while Ghost turns to him.

“I’m sorry about yesterday.”

Okay now he’s confused, “Sorry about what?”

Ghost looks straight ahead, doesn’t really speak to him. “For telling you that we might die. I realise now that that was probably not the best way to wake up and I apologise for that.” Ghost looks back to their Guardian, seemingly better now that they said that. “Also you should know that if you were to die, I can revive you. It's not really a problem unless we’re someplace where the Darkness is heavy. The problem is if I were to die. If I die or even get taken, you're out of luck.”

“Oh great. So you keep me alive so I can keep you alive. This is just getting more and more convoluted.”

“Yes, I know.”

He grins underneath his helmet, “But that also means I'm basically immortal right?”

“As long as I'm around, yes.”

Interesting. He lifts his arms and puts them behind his head. Leaning back into his own hands he asks another question. “Do I age then?”

His Ghost looks at him, and for a moment they think their Guardian looks relaxed but they know better. “No,” they answer truthfully. “As long as we live and as long as the Light is with us, you will live forever looking like you do now.”

The Guardian hums and as he’s thinking they come into a room with a lot of empty shelves. Ghost continues into the room but he doesn’t move from the doorway. He gets a feeling of déjà vu, but it’s a fleeting feeling. Ghost pops out from around a corner, “Are you coming or what?”

He sighs and moves into the room, makes his way over to where his Ghost is and spots something very interesting.

He walks over to where the sniper rifle is propped up against the wall and crouches down to get a proper look at it. His Ghost comes up next to him.

“I have no idea if it’s good or not, but hopefully you can use. You know, just in case the Fallen come close.”

He laughs at that, and God it feels good to laugh and turns his head slightly toward his Ghost. “If the Fallen get close, this isn’t going to work. We’ll need to spot them first. Hopefully when they’re very far away.”

He picks up the sniper rifle and turns around while still crouching and then he goes prone. He looks down the scope and it’s like his body knows what it’s doing even if his mind doesn’t. It feels familiar. But not completely right.

He leaves the sniper there as he sits up and starts taking off his gloves but he stops, pauses. He has a set of tattoos on the inside on his left wrist. Card suits.

A hollow black lined diamond, a hollow red lined heart, a black coloured in spade and a hollow red lined club. He stares at the four small shapes wondering why he has them tattooed. And why only the spade is coloured in.

He goes over them with his right thumb. Following the lines, thinking, wondering. He gets to the end of the heart and skips the spade for the club. After going over the club he goes back to the spade.

The second his thumb comes in contact with inked skin he’s no longer in a dilapidated building but sitting at a round table. He can see cans of beer and soda, glasses of whiskey, and a pile of cash. But that's not the main focus of whatever this is. It's the cards in his hand. Two aces, two eights and a jack. He feels himself smile and a single thought, of fucking course.

The memory fades, because that's what is was wasn't it, and he's back sitting on the floor of an unknown building with an old sniper rifle in front of him. There's warmth spreading through his chest and laughter is bubbling it's way out of his mouth.

When his laughter finally dies down his Ghost comes towards him and asks if he's okay.

He smiles, runs his thumb over the black spade again and says, “Yeah Ghost, I'm fine. And you can call me Ace from now on.”

Ghost makes a happy little sound. “You remembered your name! That’s great!”

“Yeah, it is.” He remembered something else as well. Dead Man’s Hand. It was important to him, for some reason.

As far as this life goes, this is the happiest he's been.

#Ace #destiny #it's 6am #i should be asleep #but oh well #have some ace in your life #i have most of the next part for him written

6 notes · View notes

princeoffools · 7 years

Text

Thirteen

Your name is bad luck. For those around you. And yourself. Isn’t that right? You watched your friends fall before you. You should have died with them. But you lived. Only you. Then you met others. Found some lovers. This time you died first. You know they died after you though. And you’re on your own again. But still you fight. Now stand up you brave man. Wipe the dirt from your helm. Ignore the blood staining your armour. You have fallen before. And you have stood up every single time. So pick up your gun. Put one foot in front of the other. Keep fighting and walk tall.

#Thirteen #just a lil something

5 notes · View notes

princeoffools · 7 years

Text

Combat Decoration

It’s been a week since Lucky remembered her family and her old house. Five days since she put her parents wedding photo on the mantelpiece. Two days since she told Seven and Thirteen, while she was squashed between them.

Today though, today she was going to see Joker, give him a gift. A framed thing that hasn’t left her bag since she returned to the Last City. A thing that was hers and hers alone but she didn’t want it to be.

She makes her way to the Tower wearing civvies, she hopes no one needs her right now. What she was about to do was already wearing her down.

She heads up to the lounge that the Hounds use and how Joker managed to acquire a lounge with a connecting conference room with a desk for himself and was big enough for nine people was a mystery to her. Maybe Joker boasted about his military trained squad to Zavala and convinced him they needed room. Maybe he told Shaxx they needed room to recuperate after the Crucible; the Hounds were a beast no matter the configuration they were running. Maybe he asked Cayde, the Hunter vanguard would probably just give rooms away. Lucky doesn’t know which scenario she likes better.

As she opens the door Lucky finds Zero hunkered down in a large beanbag with his laptop sitting on his lap and his headphones on. His Ghost, Neo is hovering over his shoulder and neither of them notice her entering.

She walks over to the door that connects the lounge to the conference room and through the frosted glass she can make out two shadows. Lucky sighs and makes herself comfortable in another beanbag, putting her bag by her feet. She faces the door so she can go in when whoever was in there comes out.

She distracts herself in the meantime by watching Zero. He types for a bit eyes never leaving the screen, fingers working fast over the keyboard. Sometimes Neo will look from the screen to his Guardian, thinking maybe. Lucky considers speaking up but before she can, Neo looks her way. The Ghost nudges his Guardian and Zero takes off his headphones. “‘Sup Luck,” he gives her a little head nod. “You waiting on the boss?”

“Yeah,” she takes a look at the frosted glass. “Are you?” She hopes he says no. She doesn’t really want to wait for too long. She’s already anxious enough as it is.

Thankfully Zero shakes his head. “Nah. I just came here ‘cause these beanbags are comfy as shit.” Lucky laughs at that, he’s not wrong.

“Do you know who’s in there?” She asks.

“Some Hunter,” Zero shrugs his shoulders “Old friend maybe?”

“Maybe,” Lucky hums. “So Rookie, what are you working on?”

“First,” he points a finger at Lucky, “why are you still calling me Rookie?”

Lucky shrugs, “You’re still the youngest and it's a force of habit?”

Zero narrows his eyes at her, sighs and he seems to give up on the argument before it even starts. He tilts his head up to Neo and explains what he’s doing.

“We found some encrypted Cabal transmissions last time we were on Mars. Thought I’d try and decrypt them myself, figure out what those ugly space turtles are sending to each other.”

Lucky crosses her arms and sinks into her beanbag. “You know Neo can probably do that super fast though.”

Zero sighs and runs his hands down his face. “I know but do you know how long it’s been since I’ve done any hacking? Too long Lucky. Too long. If I don’t do this I’m scared I’ll get rusty and then what? I’ll just be a shit Titan that’s only good at shooting things.”

Lucky sighs, shakes her head a little. “Tio,” she decides to use his actual name, it’s a tactic the Hounds use for each other. It helps to reorient them, gets them to focus on whoever just said their name instead of whatever they were thinking of. They rarely use their actual names around other people, so it’s a tactic only used in certain situations.

“You,” Lucky continues, “have nothing to be scared of, okay? First of all you’re not a shit Titan. Do you know how many new Guardians I’ve seen that can’t even hold a gun properly? A fuck ton, Tio. Second, you are the best hacker I know; and you won't get rusty, I know you’re coding in your spare time, modifying weapons and armor pieces.” She gets a smile for that. “So chin up Rookie, you got this.”

“Thanks Lucky,” the smile gets a little bit bigger. “When did you get so good at comforting people?”

“Hey! I have to help out the rookie when he starts doubting himself.”

“Ugh, you sound like Ace.”

Lucky sticks her tongue out at him, he retaliates by sticking out his own tongue. They share a smile and a laugh. Zero goes back to his laptop and Lucky, Lucky goes back to waiting.

After what feels like forever the conference room door finally opens and Zero was right. Out steps a Hunter, hood up obscuring their face. They don’t look to where Zero and Lucky are sitting, they head straight out the door and Lucky is left wondering who they were.

She feels her foot get nudged and she looks over to Zero, once again headphoneless.

“You gonna go in or … just sit there staring at a closed door?”

She squints at him as she stands up. She knocks before sticking her head passed the conference room door. Joker’s sitting at the long table and not his desk. He looks up and motions that she can come in. She closes the door behind her. She takes her usual seat on Joker’s left. They sit in silence for a minute, Lucky trying to muster up the courage to speak. Joker raises a single eyebrow at her.

“Is there something you need Lucky?”

Curiosity wins over courage, “Who was your Hunter friend?”

Joker sighs, “Nobody you need to worry about.”

They stare at each other for another while. Joker sighs again.

“Alexa,” he uses the same tactic that Lucky used earlier. “What’s going on?”

Instead of answering Lucky reaches into her bag and pulls out her framed purple heart and hands it over. Joker takes it gingerly. Lucky’s eyes stay on the frame as she finally speaks about it.

“A week ago I remembered where I used to live. That was one of the first things I saw. I don’t want it.”

Joker looks up from her purple heart to study her. “Don’t want it? So why bring it here, to me, instead of throwing it away?”

Lucky looks down at her hands on the table, talks to them instead of Joker.

“We all died that day, not just me. I was lucky enough to remember where I used to live. Lucky enough that the house was still standing. Lucky enough to find something that honoured my death,” She says with a humourless laugh. “The rest of you …” She looks back at Joker, he looks back down at the frame in his hands. She continues “I don’t want it. I don’t ... I don't like having something that only commemorates my death. I want it to honour the deaths of the Hounds of Hell, not just Alexa Hayes.”

Joker nods his head and stands up from his chair. He puts the framed purple heart on his desk, facing the room so anyone who comes in can see it. He turns around to face Lucky, leans back against his desk and crosses his arms.

“You know they’re going to ask about it.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“What are you going to tell them?”

Lucky smiles at that and says, “What I just told you. It’s to honour our deaths. Honour the fall of the Hounds of Hell.”

#Lucky #Zero #Joker #Hounds of Hell #destiny #my writing

6 notes · View notes

princeoffools · 7 years

Text

Aftermath

The flight home was slower, more relaxed than the one before. It was quieter too. There was less noise in her head. The only sounds filling the space were those her ship was making as they made their way back to the Tower. Lucky takes the time to enjoy the view from above the clouds. It’s getting close to dusk and the colours are beautiful.

Red appears next to her in the cockpit informing her that they had contacted the Tower of their approach. Lucky nods and thinks she’ll head straight home after they land. She has photo albums to go through.

She has a vague idea of what was in them. Every time her mother was cleaning out her drawer she’d always take them out and they’d go through them together. Her mom would reminisce and say things like “Look at how small you were.” She’d tell stories about whatever photo they were looking at, most of them were from her childhood, birthday parties and special events.

There were a few that were before though. Before her parents had her brother and her. It was just the two of them.

Lucky wasn’t sure how she’d feel about going through them on her own. Trusting her newly found memories to offer up the stories her mother used to tell. Not knowing for certain if they were there or not. She takes a deep breath and keeps flying.

Lucky lands at the Tower without much fuss, she only sees a concerned look from Amanda before she heads off to change. Somehow she was able to bypass the vanguard and anyone that she might have known doing late night errands.

After she changes she gathers all her photo albums into her old backpack and makes her way down to her Ducati. She thinks Lady Luck is with her because the place is practically empty. So are the streets as she heads home. She makes it home in record time.

The second she closes the front door behind her, Lucky is enveloped in a pair of arms and is squeezed so tightly. Just as quick as she found herself in a hug, she is face to face with Arrakis. The Hunter holds Lucky by her biceps and Lucky notices that she looks very worried. It’s only confirmed when Arra speaks.

“Where have you been?” Without giving Lucky time to answer she continues, “It’s not like you to just disappear without any warning.”

Lucky can’t look her in the eyes. She knows what she did was reckless but she had to go. Had to see for herself.

“I’m sorry,” she talks to the ground. “I’m sorry that I worried you but… but I remembered something. I remembered where I used to live,” with that she finally looks up at Arra, tears in her eyes. They’re harder to hold back here, where she knows she’s safe.

Lucky sees Arra’s face fall and she finds herself in another tight hug.

“I’m sorry,” Arra’s voice is soft. “I know how… difficult... and upsetting remembering something can be. If you want to talk about it I’m here.” Arrakis pulls back again this time letting go. She gives Lucky a small smile and say “I’m going to make some tea, would you like some?”

Lucky can only nod in answer, not trusting her voice right now. She watches as Arra’s back disappears behind a door, wipes her eyes with the back of her hand and then she heads upstairs to her room.

She doesn’t bother closing her door fully, knowing Arra will be up soon with whatever tea she’s making. It’s probably camomile, that’s Arra’s favourite.

She sits crossed legged at the head of her bed and takes the photo albums out of her bag; she puts them in a semicircle in front of her. In all she has five albums. Each one is different from the last. She starts with the plain brown one, she thinks it’s the oldest one out of the five.

Sure enough when she opens it her parents smiling faces greet her. Her father all dressed up in a fancy suit, her mother in white dress looking like a goddess.

Her fingers trace their faces and the tears flow freely down her face. They’re dead. She’ll never see them again. Never hear their voices again. She never thought this is how it would end up. Her sitting on her bed as an undead warrior hundreds of years after the deaths of her family.

She thinks she was better off not remembering. It hurts. It hurts so much.

There’s a soft knock on her door and when she looks up Arra is standing in the doorway with a tray.

“Do you want me to go?” Her voice is soft, it reminds her of her mother. They share some of the same qualities.

Lucky shakes her head, sniffles and wipes her eyes with her sleeve.

“Oh sweetheart,” Arra says coming into her room “don’t do that. I brought tissues for you.”

Arra sits next to her, places the tray between them and Lucky can see tea, tissues and chocolate. Lucky smiles as Arra tries to hand her a tissue. She really is like her mother. Lucky takes it and dries her eyes.

“Thank you, for this,” she gestures to the tray and the things on it. Arra smiles and looks towards the albums on the bed.

“I really was worried,” she looks back to Lucky still with a smile. “But I glad that you came back, alive. It’ll get easier and if it doesn’t I’m here if you ever need me. And the vanguard are always looking for people to go and shoot things.”

Lucky gives a small breathy laugh and Arra gives her a small smile. They sit in silence for a little while, both sipping on tea. Lucky was right, it is chamomile. Arrakis told her once she drinks it to calm down and it helps her sleep.

When the tea is gone Arra stands and picks the tray up from Lucky’s bed. She takes the chocolate off and places it next to the sitting Titan.

“If you need anything,” Arra says. “I’m just downstairs.”

“Thanks Arra.”

Arrakis starts walking out but as she reaches the door she turns and says “You know, this house is missing pictures. If you ever want to stick some of those around the place, I wont say no.” With that she closes Lucky’s door.

Lucky finds herself not quite alone with old pictures of a smiling family, a bar of chocolate and a ghost that brought her back from the dead.

She spends the rest of her night looking through the photo albums, finishing the bar of chocolate and telling Red the stories her mother used to tell her.

#lucky #red #arrakis dromedarii #destiny #boy this was supposed to be out earlier but d2 happened #my writing

6 notes · View notes

princeoffools · 7 years

Text

A Whole Lot of Dust

She remembers. She remembers her house, her family, her parents, her brother. She knows where they are, where she hopes they are.

She takes off without telling anyone.

She doesn’t leave Earth’s atmosphere and already it feels right. This, this she is used to. Flying above the clouds is her third home after the Hounds.

She sets down in a field and she can see it. She can see her house. Her home. All by itself in a big open field. But they’re not there. Where, where would they be? Dead, bodies, cemetery.

She remembers, she remembers the way, remembers visiting her grandparents before she shipped off, telling them to wish her luck (ha).

She gets there but where, where would they be. She has a hunch and follows it. The cemetery is small enough, finding her grandparents is easy and her hunch was right, next to them is her parents, buried together like her grandparents. She looks to the grave on the other side of her parents, hoping but scared and sure enough she can make out the name, Hayes.

She takes two steps to her right to see. The name’s faded, like the others but she can still figure it out. Three words, the first she’s said since taking off from the Tower.

“Hey big bro.”

She sits crossed legged in between her parents and her brother. It’s not the most comfortable while she’s wearing full armour but she doesn’t care. Not now. She stays and chats for a while, filling in her family on everything she remembers. She tells them about the Hounds, about the life she had with them, and about Thirteen and Seven. She hopes they would have liked them.

She tells them about Arra and Akemi and how they all met. She knows her brother would have laughed about how she bullheaded her way into becoming Arra’s friend. Knows he would have put her in a headlock and probably would have said something about how that’s just like her. She swears her eyes aren’t starting to water.

She starts to run out of things to say and she doesn’t want to go just yet. She sits in silence for a while thinking. After a bit she starts to wonder if there’s anything left in the house.

Lucky stands up, brushes herself off and says her goodbyes; she promises to visit more often, next time she might even bring flowers. Maybe lilies. She wonders then if they put lilies on her grave. Did she have a grave with an empty coffin or was her death mourned around a picture and a folded flag?

Lucky notices on the walk back to the house that Red has been quiet ever since she took off on this journey of remembrance.

“Hey Red, how come you’re so quiet?”

Her red shelled Ghost appears next to her, floating alongside her as she walks.

“I thought you’d like the quiet,” Red says, not really looking at their Guardian.

“I wanted to give you time to yourself and your family.”

A short breathy laugh escapes Lucky as looks at her Ghost.

“Red, ever since you resurrected me you became my family,” she looks straight ahead, at the house growing in the distance. “You don’t have to be so quiet. I want to share this with you. Don’t you want to know more about the woman I once was?”

“Isn’t that why we’re out here?”

Another short laugh and they walk the rest of the way in silence, Red staying by Lucky’s side.

As they near the house Red speaks up. “Since we’re here do you want me to continue calling you Lucky?”

She thinks about it. She was never Lucky here. This place has no meaning for the woman named Lucky.

“No. While we’re here you can call me Alexa or Lex, whichever you want Red.”

Red gives a robotic hum and say, “Alexa is nice.”

Alexa smiles under her helmet. She thinks this is the first time anyone other than the Hounds have called her by her actual name. She doesn’t quite know how to feel about it. On one hand she died and was brought back as Lucky, she only knew her name was Alexa Hayes because of her dog tags. But on the other hand Alexa holds her family and her past.

As she’s thinking they come up to the front door of her house and it is her house now. It was supposed to go to her brother and maybe it did, maybe it even went to his kids. Alexa stands there looking at the door lost in her thoughts as Red goes in and inspects it. There’s a soft click and Red looks towards Alexa.

“It’s not locked anymore. Whenever you’re ready we can head in,” Red’s voice breaks through to Alexa. She looks from the door to Red and back again.

She suddenly overcome with emotions. She wonders if they’re ghosts of the past or just being here is overwhelming her.

“I don’t know if I can do this Red.”

“That’s okay. We now know where it is and can come back anytime. We can wait.”

Alexa takes a deep breath and wishes she could take her helmet off.

“You think it’s safe to take this off here?” She taps her helmet.

Red turns, looks at her a bit sideways and does a quick scan of the air.

“It seems safe enough. If you collapse or pass out or die we’ll then know it’s not safe.”

“I’m glad my safety is your number one priority.” Even so, Alexa starts unclasping her helmet. She finally gets it off, shakes out her hair and takes a big gulp of air, and then starts gasping for it. She falls to her knees holding her throat. Red looks unfazed by their Guardians actions.

“I know you’re fine Alexa. If you were actually dying I would know and you’re not, so stop.”

Alexa promptly stops gasping and stands up; she sticks her tongue out at her Ghost and tucks her helmet away. She takes another deep breath and the air feels different than what she remembers but it still holds enough familiarity.

Slowly she reaches for the door and slowly she pushes it open.

The first thing she notices is that the place is covered in dust and it seems like the earth is trying to reclaim the ground it lost when the house was built.

She stands in the doorway for what feels like eons but finally she takes her first steps inside. Dust rises in her wake and for a moment she considers putting her helmet back on.

“Hey Red, can you check if this air is okay for me to breath in? Like there’s no asbestos or anything that can slowly kill me.”

“Sure, just give me a bit,” with that her Ghost flies forwards into the living room. They do a quick scan and turn back towards Alexa giving a small nod before flying off to the kitchen.

Alexa moves into her house, her home and as she gets to the center of the living room she spots her own face in the corner of her eye. She slowly, hesitantly makes her way to the shelves next to the fireplace where she stops and stares. It’s not the photo of a very young looking Alexa, all nicely done up for her military portrait that has her stopping; it’s the purple heart that sits in a frame next to it. At least her family had something, she supposes.

As she picks it up Red appears next to her and says, “The house is clean. No asbestos or killer dust bunnies. Though the house is covered in dust so I suggest we don’t stay long, unless you want to put your helmet back on.”

When Alexa does not respond they look to see if she is okay. Their attention is drawn to the frame in their Guardian’s hands. “What’s that?”

“A purple heart. My purple heart.”

After a moment of staring Alexa finally drags her eyes to her Ghost, now floating over her shoulder looking at what’s on the shelves.

“How much do you think we can take with us?”

“Storage wise?” Red does what would be considered a shrug. “We can take a lot of little things, like photos and stuff. The bigger the more complicated and mathy it gets.”

“Mathy?”

“Yeah. Your ship isn’t designed to hold things, especially big things. It was built to go fast. I thought that was why you liked it so much.”

Alexa sighs in defeat and doesn’t even bother to answer her Ghost. She pockets the framed purple heart and looks to the other things on the shelves. A few of her parent’s books, some fancy ornaments and knick-knacks, and a photo of the whole family. She takes that one too.

Alexa does a quick scan of the living room and what she can see of the kitchen and heads back towards the foyer. She takes a left heading down the hall to get to her parent’s bedroom. She remembers her mother kept photo albums in her bedside drawer. This part of the house is in the same condition as what she has seen so far; not too much damage but a whole lot of dust.

As she enters she stops, she’s been doing that a lot this trip. The place looks the same as she remembers. She starts to wonder if the house went to her brother at all.

Did they die around the same time she did? Or was it later and how much later?

She recalls she never saw another name next to her brothers on his gravestone. Alexa sees Red go in in front of her and shakes her head a little. Those were thoughts for another day.

She heads for her mother’s side and her drawer. She opens it and sure enough there are stacks of photo albums. She collects all of them and has Red store them. She’ll go through them back home in the City, it’s a lot less dusty there.

Alexa goes back the way she came and crosses the foyer to the stairs leading up. As she gets to the landing she pauses for a moment and takes a deep breath, which may not be the best thing to do right now. She keeps going forward, heading towards what was her bedroom.

Slowly, ever so slowly she pushes the door open and walks in. It’s all too much.

She sits down heavily on her bed. A dust plume comes up and she’s surprised it didn’t fall apart under her.

Red slowly makes their way around her room, taking in the posters and pictures that are stuck to the walls still.

She left this room at eighteen and sure she came back once or twice for the holidays but the room didn’t change from that eighteen year old’s ideal room.

Alexa now sits on her old bed as a twenty-six year old dead thing in full armour as her Ghost flies around.

A laugh bubbles it’s way out of her throat. Red stops looking at pictures of a younger looking version of the woman they brought back from the dead, to see what had their Guardian laughing. As they turn they are instantly concerned.

“Alexa, are you okay?” The concern comes through in their voice.

It takes a moment for her to stop laughing but when she does she understands why her Ghost is worried. Her cheeks are wet and her vision is blurry.

“Yeah buddy,” she wipes away the tears and gives Red a small smile. “I’m fine. I think being here,” she gestures to her room, “is just too much. Just gimme a second.”

The memories that keep coming back to her are too much and too many at the same time. She doesn’t know if she can keep going.

“Okay. Just know we can come back anytime.”

“I know,” she takes in her room. Quieter, “I know.”

Alexa sits there for a minute or so before she stands up. She starts taking down pictures first, the posters she has no need for now, at least she can frame or stick the photos up in her bunk in the Tower. Most of them are her in her teenage years anyway, they’ll most likely end up in a drawer somewhere back home.

Once they’re down she does a once-over of the room, looking, thinking about anything else in here she wants to bring back. After a few seconds and not coming up with anything she goes out of her room, closing the door behind her and back to the landing. She eyes her brother’s door, it stares at her from the opposite end of the hall. She thinks of her brother and she knows it will be too much for right now. She heads down the stairs and out the front door.

Once outside Alexa takes a big gulp of air and just breathes for bit. The air’s not the same but it’s better than inside the house. Red comes up next to her.

“We heading out?”

“Yeah,” Alexa starts walking away.

A few feet from the house she turns back around to face it, the house she grew up in. Now just a empty, dusty shell of a life that once was. Eighteen year old Alexa left that house looking forward to a future as a fighter pilot, hundreds of years later she returns as a completely different person. The woman who walked the halls of the house today wasn’t Alexa, as much as she had hope.

She knows now.

Knows that the Alexa that grew up here is dead. She died fighting. Or maybe she died when Lucky was born in an old aircraft hangar, surrounded by strangers. Or maybe Alexa died with her family.

A empty coffin. A folded flag. A purple heart.

She takes a moment to think.

“We’ll be back soon. Hopefully with lilies next time,” Lucky smiles to herself as she puts her helmet back on.

“Let’s go home Red.”

#this is the longest thing i've written in years #that wasn't for college #hopefully it's all okay #my writing #lucky #destiny

3 notes · View notes