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katakaluptastrophy · 4 months

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Can we talk about Juno Zeta?

You're living the dream, Master Archivist of the Sixth House. The Archaeology department hates you. The secretaries love you. Your son has risen to the very top of the absolutely unproblematic meritocracy of the House to become Master Warden. Sure, you treated him as a colleague when he was 7 too, but this is much more intellectually satisfying and much better for your publication record (suck it, Archeo). You sit on the Oversight Body, making decisions for the 3 million strong House of the Sixth.

Then the Master Warden gets summoned by god to become a Lyctor. (No civilian has seen a Lyctor for thousands of years. But the information you do have speaks of astonishing power. Are you intrigued? Do you regard it as an even more stellar opportunity for the Master Warden? Do Lyctors have access to interesting material for the archives? Does the possibility of your son becoming an immortal finger and gesture of god ever feel strange?)

A few months later, some fragments come back in a box. There's nothing left of Camilla at all. No one will tell you anything. Every House but the Third and the Ninth has lost its head or heir (the poor girl your son loved is dead. You're never going to get another overly-formal letter from the Fifth begging for Lyctoral documents from your archive.)

Then the Master Warden makes contact from beyond the grave to tell you that the saintly founder of your House left a plan in place in case it ever became necessary to betray god. He tells you why god should be betrayed.

Suddenly, the Oversight Body has to make a decision. To take your home and 3 million people away from the Dominicus System (away from its thanergetic soil, no more necromancers will ever be born). To break the contract of tenderness made on the day of the Resurrection. Do you have time to call back your soldiers in the Cohort? Do you have to leave them behind? Has the Oversight Body ever felt unanimously about something before? And how frank can you be with the House? You have visiting scholars from almost every House, and who knows where the Bureau have eyes and ears.

There are calculations to make. How to transport a whole House? How do you work out that it takes five hundred and thirty-two obselisks? That there are deleterious effects past five hundred and sixty? How do you find a stele that would anchor such a big thanergy transition? (Only the Fifth make stele. Do you try to do it yourselves? Who do you trust on the Fifth to help with that? Is that why Kester Cinque left Koniortos?)

The Master Warden, who is dead, lives inside the body of Camilla, who is not. He picks you - in your capacity as Master Archivist - to be one of the negotiators. How do you integrate 3 million people into a completely alien society with whom your people have been at war for millennia? How does negotiating with terrorists feel compared to academic committees?

What happens then? One day you just...lose it? The sun rises too bright and too blue and you are in agony, unconnected from yourself, screaming and writhing. And when the thing in the sky is at its furthest orbit from you, in some exhausted moment of clarity, you nearly kill yourself using necromancy to restore your sanity. You blind yourself. Do you think beyond that moment? As someone who deals in documents and artefacts and forms in triplicate, do you mourn your sight alongside everything else you have lost? Your son, your home, your god, your sanity...

And now you are a hostage. Sixteen of you in the back of a sweltering truck, held at gunpoint, always moving. The only thing keeping you alive is the possibility of selling you back to the empire that you've betrayed. Your captors have signed a 'no torture' clause, and perhaps they do stick to that. You're needed for providing proof of life and are probably better off than most. But it's too hot, there's not enough water, you can't see, and the only way out is either that the Master Warden gives Blood of Eden a Lyctor or being released to the mercies of the Kindly Prince. You sit in the dark and do mental maths with each other to stay sane.

Somehow, the Master Warden has done it. Without a Lyctor, he's turned his own cell commander against her fellows and you have been released. Most of the Oversight Body can't even walk out of the truck without help. But you're free, and the Master Warden - now in the stolen body of a Lyctor's cavalier - has the sort of mad scheme only he could come up with. Those mental maths will come in handy. The cell commander isn't bad either...

You can't see your son die again (the last time he speaks to you, from that borrowed body, he calls you 'mum' instead of 'Master Archivist'). But you can smell Camilla’s flesh burn. Perhaps the Commander, holding your arm, describes it to you. You follow this new person, your child, now something else, back into the truck where you were held captive and watch as they drive it into the River.

The Tomb is open. Your child is part of a being of strange and unimaginable power. The House Formerly Known as Sixth is on the other side of the universe. You are on the Ninth with a dead cavalier in the body of her necromancer, the Emperor’s construct, legions of demons, and a very mysterious dog...

Anyway, I'm very excited to see what havoc Juno gets to cause in ATN. She's there to be snarky, do psychometry, and be a romanceable MILF. Let her yell at god. And for goodness sake, let her get some peace at the end.

#the locked tomb #tlt meta #juno zeta #The ATN wedding is Juno and We Suffer right?#They get married in accordance with an ancient and solemn old earth tradition (by an Elvis impersonator).#Noodle is the ringbearer.

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chinupacoroman · 7 years

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Ang Pagbibinata ni Joven Hernando-Bernal (alternately, The Life and Times of Jovito Hernando, Bernal Brother #3) a fic by @toniongbuwan / @ipakomokoroman with @sumbungero / @chinupacoroman images by @dettsu / @bagyong-goyong 1,719 words of 17k+ | PG | Pacoven (One-sided) chapter index: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

Chapter 14: “Pasensya ka na, baka lang hindi siya sanay sa mga magagandang babae...”

The (Unspoken) Bernal Birthday Covenant is thus:

At the birthday of one sibling, the sibling older than him would take care of the preparations for the food and refreshments. Manuel would take care of the preparations for José's birthday (easy, all José required was five cases of Red Horse, half a dozen bottles of Absolut, and all the finger foods that could be eaten with said drinks) while José took care of Joven's (a sad tragedy on Joven's part; his brother had never outgrown the idea of children's parties for Joven, much to the chagrin of everyone: "Wow, hotdog with marshmallows? Kulang na lang pabitin, ah." Goyong once said snidely. This disparaging remark completely flew over José's head; he was busy blowing balloons in the garage). Joven, in turn, would take care of his Kuya Manuel's birthday, thereby closing the circle.

Joven, unlike his Kuya José, was actually mindful of the age of the birthday celebrant that he was preparing for. Since Manuel was several years older than him, birthday parties were serious, sit-down affairs. He made sure that each birthday had a different type of cuisine. Skipping over the usual French and Italian, they've had Greek and British ("Bakit walang lasa ‘tong karne?" "Ganyan talaga ‘pag roast beef, Joselito" "Eh. Jovito, iabot mo sakin ‘yang Knorr."). Last year, Joven prepared Spanish dishes ("Parang Pinoy din ‘no?" José said, while scarfing down escabeche. “Tinamad ka ‘ata.” “José.”) and for this year's birthday, he chose Thai, with its nutty pad thai noodles and hearty bowls of tom yum. All with the help of Ed Rusca, of course.

Despite his dubious addiction towards local baked goods and glutinous rice snacks, Ed Rusca was, surprisingly, an accomplished cook. They only found out about this completely by accident; Rusca, seeing that Joven was stumped at how to cook paella, took over. He moved like he could’ve cooked the dish with his eyes closed. And he didn’t just make plain paella.

“Nagluto ka ng arros negre?!” Goyong screeched. “Paano? Kain ka nang kain diyan tapos hindi mo ‘man lang sinasabi na marunong ka rin palang magluto!” Rusca shrugged, ensaymada halfway inside his mouth. “‘Di niyo naman ako tinatanong.”

After that, Joven made sure to always get Rusca’s connivance in preparing dishes for his kuya’s birthday.

"Sa’n ko lalagay ‘tong curry?" Rusca asked, hefting a large ceramic casserole.

"Diyan, Kuya Ed, sa may tabi ng fried rice." Joven directed, while looking for the cutlery that they used for special occasions. "Wala pa ba si Kuya Paco?"

"Male-late ‘yun," Rusca said "pero dadating pa rin."

"Ano ‘to?" José pointed towards a plate of what looked like glutinous rice cooked in coconut milk and paired with sliced mangoes.

"Khao niao mamuang. Mango sticky rice." Joven said, triumphant that he was able to find what he was looking for "Dessert ‘yan."

"Wow. Kanin tapos kanin pa rin for dessert. Carbo loading ba tayo dito? Tatakbo ba tayo ng marathon?" José said, teasing.

"’Wag mong pakialaman kung ano hinanda ng kapatid mo," Manuel interjected, "at least walang balloons ang birthday ko."

"Oo nga, thank God." Goyong emphatically agreed, lifting casserole covers to look inside their contents. "Jovito, ikaw mag-ayos ng birthday ko sa susunod ha," while looking at the dishes with interest. "You have good taste." he said, visibly impressed.

"Thanks Goyong!" Joven said, pleased.

"Kung babayaran mo siya!" José rolled his eyes, and pushed him away from the dining table. "Atsaka pwede ba, over my dead body bago ko hayaan ang kapatid ko na paghandaan ka nang kung ano."

Where is Kuya Paco, Joven wondered, looking at the clock. He didn't worry too much, though. Kuya Paco would never miss his Kuya Manuel's birthday. Maybe he's preparing a surprise. It wouldn't be unlikely. Kuya Paco was a good friend like that. Kuya Paco is perfect like that. He shrugged and went back to heating the tom yum in the kitchen.

A few minutes later came the unmistakable sound of Paco's car parking outside. There was the metallic ssshr-ing of the screen door opening and Paco shouting, "Manuel! Saan ka! May surprise ako!"

"O, andito lang ako." he shouted, carrying an ice bucket from the kitchen. "Ano yun— Oh my God." Manuel exclaimed in surprise. A woman's happy shriek and Manuel's laughter caused Joven to switch the stove off and go to the sala to see what the commotion was all about. There, standing in their sala, was Kuya Paco, as well as a woman his Kuya Manuel was currently embracing.

"Jules! Oh my God, Jules! Kelan ka pa dumating?" Manuel releasing her from a tight embrace to look at her up and down. "Tumaba ka nang konti ha, pero ang ganda mo pa din."

"Ngayon lang ako dumating Manuel! Dapat kanina pa kami kaso na-delay yung baggage ko, nasama sa isang flight or something," the woman waved her hand vaguely, "pero tinaon ko talaga umuwi today para maabutan ko birthday mo." She hugged him again, "Grabe, ilang taon na!"

Paco was looking at both of them and beaming proudly

"Ah, teka papakilala kita." Manuel the ever-conscientious host, turned around to call everyone’s attention. “Guys, si Juliana Piqueras, si Ate Jules! Girlfriend ni Paco.”

Girlfriend ni Paco.

Joven’s blood ran cold.

For all of Joven’s want for his Kuya Paco, he knew that there was a girlfriend somewhere that the older man already had a relationship with. He’d browse through Paco’s social media timelines and scroll extra fast at any mention or image of a woman who wasn’t Paco’s family. He never brought the relationship question up when talking to Paco. He avoided the topic because he knew. But, because of the lack of an actual female physical presence to remind him of not only his Kuya Paco’s civil status, but his sexuality as well, Joven continued with his fantasies. Seeing her in the flesh made all his dreams of ever being with his Kuya Paco (yes, yes, he harbored that hope. Foolish, he knew, but what was reality when it came up against teenage fantasy?) come crashing down on his ears.

There was a chorus of hellos, and she waved and or shook hands with each of them. Goyong stared at her in frank appreciation. “I never knew na may kakainggitan ako kay Kuya Paco, pero nung nakita kita…” he said suavely. José made gagging noises in the background.

When she reached Joven, she clapped her hands to her mouth in delight. “Jovito? Eto ba si Jovito?” she enveloped him in a fierce hug. Joven, arms stiff at his sides, didn’t respond. She looked at him, her eyes cursorily roaming his face, and then spoke to Paco. “Love, ang laki na niya ‘no?” To Joven, “Palagi kang kinukuwento sakin ni Paco! Ang dami niyang pictures mo! ‘Yang aso na ‘yan ni Paco ‘di ko na nga nababalitaan pero ikaw? Parang halos kilala na nga kita.” she looked at him affectionately. She looked back at Paco, smiling. “Love, sayang binata na siya! Kung baby pa rin siya katulad nung una mo siyang nakilala, gawin sana natin siyang ringbearer.”

Paco laughed, “‘Wag ka mag-alala, hon. ‘Pag kinasal tayo, isa siya sa groomsmen. Promise.”

Each word was like a knife blade, dripping acid, through Joven’s heart. His hands were clenched so tightly that he felt that his nails had cut through the skin of his palms. Go away, go away. Go back to Singapore. Or wherever. Anywhere but here. Leave us alone. Joven’s mind cried. Go away. You’re not supposed to be here. You don’t belong here.

“O, Joven. Magsalita ka naman.” Rusca encouraged. “Pasensya ka na Jules, baka lang hindi siya sanay sa mga magagandang babae...” Teased Goyong.

“Imposible! Sa guwapo ng batang to?” Jules took him by the arm and had him sit with her on the sofa, “Nako, panigurado sobrang heartbreaker mo, sa itsura mong yan.” she clasped his hands. “Di bale, Jovito, nandito na si Ate Jules mo. Ako na tatayong ate mo, parang kung pano mo lang naging kuya si Paco.”

Joven stared at her, a pained smile on his face.

Dinner for Joven was a three-hour long affair with every minute feeling like his skin was being slowly pulled away from his flesh by tiny, tiny hooks. He sat between his Kuya Manuel and Goyong, with his Kuya José in front of him. The food was superb. The tom yum goong spicy and sour, with just the right bite of lemongrass; the pad thai noodles, massaman curry and kao phad cooked to perfection. But to Joven, every bite was like ash on his tongue and teeth. He gave some cursory responses but refused to participate in any of the conversation. Paco, concerned, asked across the table if he was alright. No, Joven wanted to say. I am not alright. Every time you hold your girlfriend’s hand is another cut across my throat. But Joven remained silent. He just nodded his head and went back to mechanically chewing his food.

After dinner, Joven couldn’t stand it any longer. Seeing Paco and Jules kiss, no matter how chaste, was the last straw (“Ang sarap sarap naman ng handa na ‘to, Manuel!” Jules smiled after polishing off her second plate of curry. “Si Jovito lahat ‘yan!” Manuel beamed. Jules grinned at Paco. “Kung sana lang ganito ako kahusay magluto, ano?” “Loves, aaminin kong walang-wala ka talaga sa expertise ni Jovito, pero mahal na mahal pa rin kita.” Paco brushed Jules’ cheek with a kiss).

Rusca and Goyong started howling. Joven gave his excuses—barely audible due to the boys’ hoots—and made his way to go up his room on the pretext of a headache.

He encountered his brother along the way, carrying bottles of Red Horse and San Miguel. “Jovito, okay ka lang ba? Teka nga.” he placed the bottles on a side table and wiped his hands down his shirt. “Wala ka naman lagnat.”

“Hinde kuya, napagod lang ako siguro sa pag-prepare ng dinner. Pasabi kay Kuya Manuel umakyat na ‘ko? Ang sama na talaga ng pakiramdam ko.” he lied.

José looked like he was about to say something, but thought against it. “Sige, sasabihan ko na lang si kuya.” and, before leaving, “Wala ka bang ipapasabi kay Kuya Paco? Hahanapin ka din nun.”

It was now Joven’s turn to bite back what he wanted to stay.

“Wala.”

#Bernal Brothers AU #fanfiction #Heneral Luna #Heneral Moon #Joven Hernando #José Bernal #Manuel Bernal

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