Wreckage of Alcamoth.

Some Semblance of a Man

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31716874

Kaz

Kaz Brekker was always looking for a challenge, for the next rival to ruin, for the next near death experience. He’d learned quickly that sitting idle in The Barrel got you killed and he’d been running ever since. But with Pekka gone, Inej and her parents reunited, and the Council of Tides temporarily abated, Kaz was beginning to realize there was nothing else for him to do but wait.

Of course, there were the day to day activities, he still had The Crow Club to run, he still had slavers to gather information on. But after everything he and the Dregs had been through recently, those tasks seemed trivial. He didn’t want his crew to think that just because he’d come into a bit of money that he had gone soft, and he didn’t want rumor spreading throughout the Barrel that Kaz Brekker was getting bored. Without his crew around the Slat, Kaz had to find other ways to pass the time, and for the sake of maintaining appearances, Kaz would walk the streets at night, pretending to look at his watch, pretending to trail a random person, or spreading rumors. Sometimes he would walk to The Menagerie and think of what it would look like burned to the ground.

That’s where he’d been tonight, with a gentle mist of rain turning the cobblestone to mirrors, pools of colored lights spilling out across the street. There were few people out, the rain enough of a nuisance to make them think twice about spending their coin in gambling halls and pleasure houses. Despite the hour growing ever later, the Slat was teaming with life when Kaz returned, the air smelled like alcohol and sweat, the newer additions to the crew were trying to have a conversation, which had mostly devolved into shouting over the out of tune cacophony of voices singing drunkenly across the bar. Kaz bought a round for everyone, though he knew the chance of anyone here betraying him in favor of another gang was slim, keeping his crew happy with a bit of booze usually made his job a little easier. Besides, the longer the crowd was down here, the longer he had for some quiet of his own, in his room on the fourth floor, where the voices did not carry.

Kaz held his breath as he started his climb up the stairs, it was never easy, but Kaz valued the privacy and protection afforded by his room more than he worried about the pain. He bolted the door behind him, leaning his head against its frame and biting his lip as he massaged the twitching muscle of his thigh. He stretched, rubbed a knot from his neck, and reached for his hat.

He paused, the pattering of raindrops puncturing the peace. “Won’t Jesper and Wylan be missing their Wraith?” Kaz asked his empty room, his back to the window, hiding his smirk. He moved slowly, hanging his hat on the doorknob and turning around just in time to watch Inej swing gracefully from the rafters of his ceiling and drop down to his bed.

“No, they’re going over the books tonight, so they’ll be busy for a few hours at least,”

“Wylan’s books take hours to go over?” Kaz asked, leaning against the wall to take the weight off his bad leg.

“No,” Inej replied “But the boys tend to get distracted by...paperwork and usually have to start over,”

It took Kaz longer than he’d ever admit to understand her meaning, but once he had he merely quirked a single, bemused eyebrow at her. Something hungry and desperate twisted its way through Kaz’s stomach when Inej smiled wryly back at him, her eyes flitting to his collar. “What business?”

“I’ve been reading up on cannons.” Inej began, her face a picture of concentration. “Specht and I are going to be taking a few people we’ve been eyeing for our crew out on the water sometime in the next few weeks to practice. We aren’t going far, just far enough to where the cannon fodder won’t send other ships into a panic. We want to see if they can work well as a team before we commit to hiring them.”

“A wise decision,” Kaz agreed, ignoring the way his heart seized within his chest. It made him happy she would have her freedom, but the thought of losing her to the sea always left an ache.

“I wanted to extend an invitation to you,” the confidence Kaz had grown so used to seeing in Inej’s shoulders melted away, she pulled out a knife, turning it over in her hand. “to join us on that trip. I thought you might want to be there to ensure your...investment is taking form the way you’d hoped it would,”

“It wasn’t an in-” Kaz swallowed the rest of the sentence. It wasn’t an investment. He thought, don’t you know this was all for you? “How long will you be gone?”

“Not long, a day, maybe two.”

“When you have the dates secured, let me know, I’ll see if I can make the time,” He knew already he would make the time.

Inej nodded, a glint of something in her eye “And you? What business?”

“I have a job for you,” Kaz took this as an excuse to get closer to Inej, moving toward his desk and stretching out his leg. “I recently came into the possession of some ledgers,”

“You can use the word ‘stole’ Kaz, I’m not the stadwatch ,”

“They have the names of all the ships that have docked in the harbor, the captain, and their cargo,” Kaz continued, “I was looking through it for leads on slavers when I noticed something,” Inej untangled her limbs, and pushed herself upward, walking over to Kaz’s desk. Kaz had forgotten how comfortable it felt to have her by his side. “There’s a ship that keeps appearing, but it never stays for long. It docks at last light, and it departs first thing in the morning. I’ve looked at the dates of it’s arrival,” Kaz handed Inej the first of the ledgers, she took it from him without a word, scanning the pages in search of the same patterns he had found.

“The Sankta ?” Inej hissed and Kaz could hear the disgust on her tongue.

“I thought that might catch your eye,” he opened another ledger, pointing to the name of the ship and the dates it had docked in Ketterdam. “It comes in every six months or so, and when it does the population in the Barrel always seems to increase. The clubs start advertising more heavily, the pleasure houses start getting more traffic,”

“You think they’re smuggling people into the city?”

“I don’t know for certain what they’re trading, the ledger has different cargo listed every time. And the Captain...I’ve never heard of them before.” Inej placed the ledger in her hand back down on the desk, leaning in closer. Her braid fell down across her shoulder, barely an inch from Kaz’ face. Focus . “If the pattern holds they should be docking here in-”

“Three days?” Inej finished for him, reaching for the second ledger. Her fingers brushed against his gloves, her forearm against his jacket. Kaz lost all sense of time and place, despite the warmth of the room and the floor beneath his feet. One second he was in the Slat and the next he was cold and drowning. Inej was saying something, something like “tell him”, maybe? But he wasn’t quite sure, there was cotton in his ears, his heart was in his throat. There was water rising around his ankles.

“Kaz?” He heard her voice, far off, like a siren calling him to shore. He did not trust himself to speak, as it was he struggled to find breath “Kaz!”

He slammed back into himself, pressing one hand flat against his desk, wrapping the other around the head of his cane so tightly his knuckles went white beneath his gloves. Solid wood and solid metal, no flesh or water in sight, this was always how it went. The place beside him where Inej had been was empty, she had retreated, pressed herself up against the wall, her hands behind her back.

“I’m sorry, I-,” Kaz would have done anything to wipe away her guilt. “I wasn’t paying attention. I didn’t mean to-”

“I wasn’t prepared,” he said, unable to look her in the eye, to admit to the weakness they both knew that he carried.

“I know,”

“I didn’t expect-”

“I know,” Inej interrupted. “Does the Sankta change the Berth it docks on?”

“No,” Kaz would never have the words to express the gratitude he felt at her diversion. He turned slightly in his seat, pretending to study the documents in front of him. Pretending like every cell in his body wasn’t honed in on Inej. On the way she was looking at him, distracting him once again with talk of plots and schemes, intangible actions that would let him fly high above the harbor he was drowning in. “It uses the same Berth every time.”

“Do we know who that dock belongs to?”

“It’s paid for by the Council, it’s designated for public use,”

“I’ll see what information I can gather,” Inej said and Kaz nodded, trying to force the image of Jordie out of his head. “Goodnight, Kaz,” Inej whispered after a moment, and though he did not hear her footsteps, he felt her absence immediately.

Where the water had been, regret replaced it. He balled his hand into a fist and closed his eyes. “Wait!” he called out after her, turning around slowly to not seem overeager. Inej was frozen, partway out his window. He felt picked apart with the way her gaze fell upon him, her eyebrows knit together, her face desperate and searching. Whatever unease still lingered in the center of his stomach, whatever terror still wrapped around his ankles, it fell away at the sight of Inej, sitting here on his window sill, backlit by moonlight and held up by hope.

At some point the fear of what her touch would bring him was dampened by his need to hold her close. He was broken and crooked and the most unworthy man, but he needed Inej to know it wasn’t her fault. Wanted her to know that he was trying to push the pieces of himself back together, into someone, something she would not be ashamed to love.

When Kaz and Nina had broken into the morgue all those months ago, he had powered through his fear with thoughts of Inej; the warmth of her skin, the sound of her voice. But as every second in that room of corpses passed them by, Kaz had forced Inej from his mind, not wanting to taint his memories of her with the scent of death. Kaz had believed for so long that the foolish little boy he had been had died in the harbor, but as his eyes fell upon Inej now, he knew he had been wrong. He had carried Kaz Rietveld with him every day of his life, and had pulled that doe eyed little fool to the surface on the back of his brother’s bloated body with every touch since then.

He’d learned very quickly what it meant to be weak in The Barrel. The Barrel starved, and beat, and stole all the kindness and compassion and love out of those unlucky enough to build a life inside it. Weakness got you killed, so Kaz had buried his weaknesses so deep they had turned themselves into shadows. He had kept them there in the dark for so long they had grown claws and teeth, they had become so rabid, so feral that Kaz was finding it harder and harder to keep them locked away.

But maybe he didn’t have to anymore. Because now he had the Wraith, he had Inej, and Inej made him strong. Inej made him wish for things he had convinced himself he could never have. Perhaps if he tried it, if he tried it enough, to touch her, to put her hand in his, to let her rest her head against his shoulder, to...to kiss her, he could finally put the little boy in the harbor to rest. Yes, he would drown his fear beneath the tidal wave that was Inej, he would burn away the memories of corpses against his flesh with the warmth of her skin against his.

“I want to try again,” it pained him to admit to it, it thrilled him to have said it. Kaz failed to keep his heart beat steady when Inej planted her feet firmly back into his room, and closed the window.

“Try what again?” she asked, stalking forward until there was nothing more than breath between them. Kaz studied the head of his cane, his skin prickled with the thought of what she’d feel like in his hands.

“I-” He dared a glance at her, she was ethereal, she was calculating, she was Inej and the rest of Kaz’s wish was lost with his nerve.

“Kaz, tell me,” Inej leaned forward, Kaz leaned back. He clenched his jaw, locked himself away behind his mask. “Tell me what you want,” He could feel the way she looked at him, like she’d created her own gravity and he’d collapsed beneath it. But he couldn’t make himself form words, it had taken everything he’d had to say something the first time, to show her such weakness again would surely break him. When Inej spoke there was an edge to her voice that was sharper than her knives. “Say it, Kaz. For once in your life just...say what you’re thinking. There is no one else here but us. There’s no one else to see you, to hear you treat me like you actually care.”

Kaz hung his head in shame, it was a fair blow, but that didn’t stop him from shattering into a million pieces at the acknowledgement of all the times he’d failed her. “I want to take my armor off.” He forced himself to meet her eye. “I want to beat this, I will beat this. Will you help me?”

They’d done this little dance for months now, the day on the docks, when he’d shown Inej her ship, he’d managed to hold her hand for a whole five minutes without sinking below the waves. He’d tried a couple times since then, with various levels of success. Some days he’d managed to throw his arm around her, others just the thought of her face caused him to tug on his gloves.

“Of course I’ll help you, Kaz, you only had to ask,” Kaz committed that smile of hers to memory. “Are you ready?” Inej asked.

No. Kaz steadied himself and straightened his posture “Yes,”

They started slowly, Inej resting her palm on the back of his gloved hand, Kaz took a deep breath, he could do this, he was fine. Inej’s fingers curled around his hand, she pressed their palms together. Kaz pushed the water away. She laced their fingers together, he gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

“You okay?”

“Fine,”

“Do you want to keep going?”

“Yes,”

Kaz wasn’t sure what kind of sound he made when Inej began to tug the gloves from his hands. She froze, looking up at him, reading him the way only she could. She dropped her hand, Kaz wanted to reach for it, but he let it fall away. “I’m sorry, did you want to do it?”

“No, it’s- no one else ever has,” Kaz cleared his throat, biting back a smile at the way Inej’s cheeks flushed. Tentatively, Inej continued, it took a lifetime to complete her task, it took a second. The metal of his cane was cold against his fingertips, for the first time in a long time it no longer felt comforting. He reached out with his other hand, and gently Inej took it, her palm against the top of his bare hand. It felt like fire, but Kaz preferred the burn to the icy harbor he had always known. His breath caught in his throat, Inej continued until their hands were pressed palm to palm.

“Breathe,” Inej whispered, Kaz exhaled and peace rushed in to fill his lungs. She interlaced their fingers, the water started in. Think of her . Kaz clenched his jaw. Think of that day at the docks . Kaz faltered when Inej wrapped her other hand around his wrist, the one that held his cane. He thought that she might pull their hands away, and though he was not a man of faith, he thanked every Saint he knew that she kept her hold on him.

She repeated the pattern, gripping his wrist, his elbow, his shoulder with all his layers on. He kept his breathing purposeful, controlled, his eyes trained on the wall for fear he would look at Inej and see a corpse standing in her place. She slid her hand from his shoulder to his chest, he hoped she could not feel his heartbeat. He nearly lost his footing when her arm went to his waist. He was impossibly warm, sweat had started beading at his temples, he gripped his cane a little tighter.

Inej released his hand and a weight Kaz hadn’t realized was upon him disintegrated in his chest. But it returned in a flash when Inej began to pull off his coat. “Saints,” he whispered. “Why won’t it stop ?” he hadn’t meant to say it, he hadn’t meant for it to send Inej shuffling backward, too far away for him to grasp.

“It takes time, Kaz,” Inej replied, tossing his coat on the bed, taking a tentative step forward, then another when Kaz responded in kind. She brushed her fingers against his shirt sleeve at the wrist, it was an apology and a question. “You can’t kill this kind of monster in a day,” she traced a line up to his elbow. “It took me months,” Inej said, so simply that it knocked his world out of alignment and he had to take a step backward to right himself. Inej reacted on instinct, clutched his shoulders to make sure he did not fall.

“I’m not strong enough,” Kaz blurted out, hoping that if he spoke, he could force the feeling of rotting flesh out of his mind. “I’m not as strong as you,”

“That’s not true,” Inej ran her fingers across his chest and down to his waist. “My weakness just wasn’t visible, yours is,” she unbuttoned his vest, Kaz hadn’t even noticed and the implication of that made his stomach do a somersault. “When someone touches you, you are present, aware.” She continued her pattern, hands going back to his wrist, making sure he could anticipate where her next move was going to be. “Me? I disappeared,” Kaz caught her eye, and threw his thought away. He refused to pity her, he knew she wouldn’t want that. “I looked calm and collected, but no one knew what it was doing to me, to shake their hand or have their arms around me,”

She smiled at him, unrestrained and brilliant, and he looked down to realize he had his hand upon her waist, her arms wrapped around his in kind. This felt like a victory, it felt like a curse. Against the roughness of her jacket, his hand began to tremble. She stepped away, he didn’t want her to, but it was exactly what he needed.

“Your tie,” Inej stated, and Kaz could have worshipped her right then, for understanding that if she had brought her hand up to his neck, he might not survive the evening. He undid his tie, though the tightness in his throat did not relent. He unbuttoned his shirt, hoping that the action would steady his hand. He was feeling light-headed but he wasn’t drowning...yet. He wiped the sweat from his brow, ran a hand through his hair, forced his anxiety out with a breath. He had never gotten this far with her before.

Inej repeated the rhythm: wrist, elbow, shoulders. Her hand was Jordie’s hand, her flesh was Jordie’s flesh. His chest, his waist. The waters started rising, coming in with the strength of a flood. Inej could sense the change in him immediately, “Tell me about the tattoo,” Inej said, he did not want her hand on him anymore, he needed it to stay so he could keep trying. He knew why she was asking, she knew he needed a distraction, and he chuckled darkly because she did not know that this particular question serveed an opposite purpose.

“Not tonight,” But someday .

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No,”

Her hand has been in his for seconds, minutes, days, long enough that Kaz let himself hope that one day he could be rid of this. This ghost of his brother, the phantom of his skin, slipping underneath his hand, his chest, his face. Carefully, never breaking eye contact, Inej brought his hand up to her lips, Kaz focused on his breathing, on the moonlight spilling across Inej’s plait. Kaz tasted salt on his tongue, no not salt, iron. His vision went blurry, and he lost the shape of Inej as a result. This was unbearable, but he was desperate for more, it was easier this way. Feeling her lips against his skin, instead of her skin beneath his lips. She pressed another kiss to the creases of his palm, to his wrist. This felt nothing like a corpse, but the traces of her lips burned like ice, like water.

“I never asked you,” Kaz began, relaxing the tension in his jaw “Are you okay with this?”

“I’m not doing anything I don’t want to be doing,” she whispered against his forearm, lips brushing the dark ink of his Dregs tattoo. He flexed the hand that held his cane, releasing some of the stiffness in his knuckles. She continued her familiar path across his body, through the smoke of Reaper’s Barge Kaz noticed she took care to avoid the R tattooed to his bicep when she kissed him there.

His whole body was alight, electrified, dying. He could smell death in his nose, he could feel the warmth of Inej’s body wash over him. He was tired, he was treading water, knowing any minute he could drown. He saw Jordie’s face, swollen, purple, eyes cloudy, No. He thought of Inej, of her laughter, her smile, of her voice whispering his name. Kaz Rietveld and Kaz Brekker were at war with one another, and right now, he wasn’t sure who would win. He should tell her to stop, but he didn’t want her to.

Inej took another step in, her hands balling into fists. I’m not doing anything I don’t want to be doing . She had just told him that, but he saw her now, saw how tightly she carried herself. He’d been so caught up in his own head, he hadn’t realized she’d been trying to shed her armor too. She leaned in, and Kaz was back in a hotel bathroom, she paused mere inches from his chest, sucked in one shaking breath, and ran her lips against his collar bone.

The current pulled him under; Kaz Rietveld had won again. Sudden, uncontrollable panic seized within his chest, snapping the leash to which he tied his weaknesses. They ran him over, all snarls and teeth and claws, turning him into something wild and furious. Before he could control himself, before he was even fully conscious of what was happening, he had flung his arms outward, pushing Inej away from him. “Stop,”

Inej, working to quiet her own demons had not been expecting this outburst from Kaz, she lost her footing, stumbling backward, and though she did not fall, Ghafa’s never fall , she did slam the back of her knee into the hard metal of Kaz’s bed frame. Inej cried out, more out of shock than out of pain. Desperation, horror, fury, regret pulled Kaz further under, the room was spinning, the moonlight hurt his eyes. Kaz caught himself on the edge of his desk, fumbling frantically for the waste basket he kept there, the cold metal of it in his hands bringing the briefest moment of comfort before he was vomiting up his dinner.

“Kaz?” Inej’s voice was sturdy, grounding, calm, but he could not turn to face her.

Inej

Kaz Brekker had gone by many names, and Inej had heard them all, whispered fearfully through the streets of Ketterdam by cowardly men. Kaz Brekker, Dirtyhands, the Bastard of the Barrel. Inej had spent so many nights on this city’s rooftops, seen only by the stars, listening in on the conversations that twisted up to her like crow feathers in the wind. She knew what people thought of him, he held a place amongst the most dangerous and feared of men. To some he was a bogeyman, to all he was a threat. And though she had seen him do terrible, violent things it still sent a sharp bolt of surprise crackling through her body whenever she heard the word “monster” following his name.

That monster stood before her now, leaning against his desk. Trusting her enough to turn away, to leave himself defenseless in her presence. Not trusting her enough to show his face. He was sweating, and in the light that spilled from the lamp upon his desk, Inej could see his hands twitching with the slightest tremor. She knew he was slipping, knew he was trying desperately to pull his armor on. But she was not here for Dirtyhands, and she had no time tonight for bastards. She thought about those names, the truths they carried with them. Could they really be titles for the man she was watching now? A boy who could not look her in the eye? No, the person that stood, half naked and shaking in this tiny little room, was neither of those things. This, she realized, this was simply

“Kaz,” she tried again.

“Leave,” and if she had known him any less she would have thought that he was serious.

“No,”

“Inej,” She was never sure how he could do that, how he could make her feel coveted and worshipped just by saying her name “ please ?” and his voice became a quiet, broken thing.

“No.” She said again, gentle as the breeze “I will not leave you, not like this,”

“I don’t want to see you,” it wasn’t a lie,

“You did great, Kaz, you’re making progress, ” and so was she, though she wasn’t sure Kaz realized it.

“Inej, get out,” he hissed, as if it hurt him to say the words.

“Why?”

He stiffened, and she bit back a smirk he hadn’t been expecting that . “I-” he hung his head.

She knew he didn’t have a reason, not one that he would admit to anyway “Is it because you don’t want me to see you like this? Because you’re worried you can’t give me what I want?” She tried to dampen the delight that bubbled in her chest, when she watched blotches of red blush paint the back of Kaz’s neck and spill down across his shoulder blades. “Is it because you feel ashamed?”

Kaz screamed with a rage she had seen up close only twice, a wild, guttural thing. When he got like this, destruction usually followed in his wake. As if on cue, Kaz slammed his hands down on the table, sweeping everything that rested there- every half drawn blueprint, ledger, and plan -onto the floor. His lantern tumbled with it as did a small wind up dog toy Kaz always kept sitting at his desk. The force of their impact caused both to shatter, sending pieces of glass and metal skidding across the hard wood floors. The paperwork took longer to fall, floating gently in the air around him like snow.

Kaz finally turned to face her, fury exploding behind his eyes. He wanted a fight, but Inej would never give him that satisfaction. When the dust settled, the anger that had possessed him had begun to burn low, confusion taking control of his posture and his brow when he finally saw Inej.

She had crossed her arms and tried her best to look bored. Based on his reaction it may have been working. “You can’t scare me away, Kaz,” It was the wrong thing to say, but it’s what he needed to hear.

The fire that flickered behind his eyes turned to ice, “I am the Bastard of the Barrel,” Kaz spit, stalking toward her, making sure to punctuate his words with the tapping of his cane against the wood. “I brought down Pekka Rollins, I conned Jan Van Eck, I broke into the Ice Court and made it out alive. Men run when they see me coming, parents tell their children I’ll steal them away in the night if they do not behave.” Kaz only stopped when her back was to a wall. He wanted her to feel cornered, he wanted her to feel trapped. On any other night, that may have worked, but she knew this was an act, and she had maneuvered herself so she was near the window, and he hadn’t seemed to notice.  “I scare who I damn well please,”

Inej could not hold back anymore, she hadn’t meant to do it, but she started to laugh. “That’s good,” Kaz blinked in surprise, his posture shifting, his grip loosening on his cane. She took a step forward, he took a step back. “I can see how that would work on most people. But I know you Kaz. Sure, you took down Pekka and Jan Van Eck...with help,” she took another step forward, reveling in Kaz’s retreat. “But you’ve also fainted in a carriage, nearly drowned in Djel’s river, and got embarrassed when Jesper’s Dad caught you two in a fist fight.” Kaz ducked his head to hide the redness rushing to his cheeks. She took another step forward, he ceded his territory. “You got good at palming cards and picking pockets not because you planned for a life of crime, but because you like magic tricks . You’ve lost a hat in every corner of Ketterdam,” Kaz lost his footing, his knees buckled beneath him, sending him tumbling onto his bed. With nowhere left for him to go, Inej smirked, and leaned in just far enough so he could hear her whisper. “And, when you wake up in the morning, your hair sticks up to one side. Jesper and I pretend not to notice, but we both think it’s adorable,”

Inej spun gracefully on her heel, gliding back towards the window, because she was not cruel and did not want Kaz to suffer...she didn’t want Kaz to suffer much . Kaz glowered at her, but seemed to otherwise have calmed. “You know,” Inej said when the silence grew too heavy. “I’ve been afraid of a lot of people since I came to Ketterdam,”

“Even Jesper?” Kaz asked eventually, she could tell from the cadence of his voice he was exhausted.

“Especially Jesper” Inej trusted Jesper with her life, he had brought so much chaos and joy into her world. But he was kind and charming in a way that sent shivers down her spine. Inej had had too many clients come to her, all smiles and compassion. Jesper scared her because she knew what kind and charming men could do. Kaz flinched and looked away.

“But not me?”

“No,” Inej wanted to touch his cheek, to smooth the worry that lined his forehead “Never you,”

Slowly, deliberately, Kaz stood. Inej’s breath caught in her throat when her eyes met his. He looked paler than usual, and maybe a little green, but his hands were still, his stance was steadier. He had locked his thoughts away, no emotion showing on his face, but there was a shine in his eyes Inej had seen before, when Kaz was trying to let go of hope. He quirked a single eyebrow at her, a challenge.

“I’ve been scared for you,” she admitted. “I’ve been scared to disappoint you, I’ve been scared of what it would do to me to lose you.” Inej stepped forward, already knowing what would happen, knowing that Kaz, having slipped away once already, would take a step back. But instead he stood rooted in place, his grip tightening ever so slightly on his cane.

“Why?”

“Because you’ve never looked at me the way everyone else does.” She considered the weight of the words on her tongue. “One day at The Menagare would have been enough to show me what kind of place Ketterdam truly was, and I spent a year inside it’s walls. I’ve collapsed beneath a million broken promises, but never yours. I’ve heard a million gentle lies, but never from you. I have felt a million….unwanted hands,” Inej wanted to shrink away into the shadows, but she refused to show her weakness, she refused to look away. Like magnets they were pulling toward each other until they were sharing the same air, until they were standing as each other’s equals in the center of the room. Inej held out her hand, not a demand, not a question, but a wish. Her heart threatened to burst out of her chest when Kaz, without a moment’s hesitation, took her hand. He clenched his jaw, and drew a soft line across her palm with his thumb, it was a certainty, it was a promise. “But never yours,”

Kaz cleared his throat “I haven’t been scared of anyone since Jordie died,”

“Not even Jesper?” Inej teased, because she didn’t know what else to say.

Kaz bit back a smile “Never Jesper,”

“Not even me?” It was another joke, because she’d wanted to see more of that smile.

His face fell into something powerful and serious “I’ve always been scared of you, Inej,” she knew how much it must have taken for him to have admitted it. “From the moment you snuck up on me with bells on,”

“Really?” she could not hold the joy she felt at bay, it spread throughout her body, warming her all the way down to her toes.

Kaz nodded.

“But I was nothing then,”

“You have always been something.” Kaz corrected. “Back then you were Silence,”

“And now?” her eyes kept falling to his lips.

“You…” Kaz continued, leaning down, sending Inej’s heart into a frenzy she was worried she could never tame “should be going home,”

Inej scoffed, Kaz’s walls slipped down just long enough to let a small chuckle pass his lips. She would tuck that away in her memory, a look into the boy he could have been, a minute of vulnerability all for her. “That’s not fair! I told you mine!” If it had been Jesper standing in front of her, Inej would have backhanded his shoulder. But this was Kaz and he had done a lot tonight, she didn’t want to push her luck. Especially when she was enjoying this feeling of his hand in hers, she wasn’t looking to ruin it. “Come on Kaz,” she whispered, “why are you scared of me?”

He chewed his lip, and she could see the gears turning in his head, the debate he was conducting. Should he tell her the truth? Or keep his feelings a mystery and send her away. She was getting tired of being sent away. “Because I trust you.” Kaz said. “Because, you make me want to tell you everything. We deal in secrets, Inej, because we know that information can be more valuable than money. You’ve learned my patterns, you know my mind, you could unravel everything I have built with a single word to the right person,”

It was true, but it hurt. She pulled her hand from his, and regretted it. “You think that I would?”

“No,” he said it so fast, so sure that it knocked the air out of her lungs, it tore her voice from her throat. “And that is why you scare me. Because I know that thought has never crossed your mind.” He tugged gently at the bottom of her braid, twisting it around in his fingers. This was a system they had worked out months ago, for when Kaz wanted to be physical but the feeling of her skin was too much. “You are kinder and stronger than I will ever be and I am scared that-” he dropped her braid, placed both his hands atop his cane, and broke eye contact. “I am scared that you will finally see yourself for everything you are and know I am not worthy of your time or loyalty.”

“Kaz,” she said, because she didn’t know what else to say. Because she couldn’t say I love you . The tension in the room, the cord that pulled the two of them together, was severed by the tolling of a clock.

Kaz broke first, eyes skirting to the city stretched out below them. “Goodnight, Inej,” he whispered, his voice rougher than usual.

“Goodnight,” she managed, slipping out of his window and vanishing into the night. Kaz watched her go until he could not feel her presence any longer, then he turned, and started picking up his mess. When Kaz woke the next morning, his heart stuttered in his chest. Sitting in the middle of his desk was a brand new wind up dog toy and laying next to it, reflecting the early morning sun was a geranium made out of glass.

3000

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Words: 3576

Warnings: ENDGAME SPOILERS! IF YOU HAVEN’T WATCHED THE MOVIE DO NOT READ THIS! I REPEAT: DO NOT READ THIS. And also it’s so angsty.

Tags: -

Request: -

Notes: -

MASTERLIST

Hell.

That was the only way to describe what life had been since Thanos. Five years of loneliness, of crying yourself to sleep every single night because you couldn’t forget what had happened. Every day felt the same. When you got out, you saw some people still going to their jobs, but those were a minority. There were no clients, there were no customers, there was nothing. If you walked into a store, took something and just walked out without paying for it, it wouldn’t even matter.

You tried to go back to your normal life. Going to school felt odd. Half of your classmates were gone, just like your teachers, most days it would be only a couple of you going to class. The hallways were covered with posters that tried to cheer up the Survivors, but they were just a reminder of how much you had lost that day. A day you would never forget, let alone understand.

It was chaos. Even when you lived far from Manhattan, you could see the huge spaceship above the skyline from your home in Queens. You and your parents stood in the yard while you held Arya, your cat who was as scared as you, in your hands. You had been on a school trip, but the moment the ship appeared, the bus took you all home as fast as possible, which wasn’t easy since everyone was freaking out and the traffic became frantic and even more chaotic than usual.

Of course, you had seen Peter abandoning the bus and flying away. You were glad he told you his secret after so long, but that had increased how much you worried about him every time something happened. Luckily, he always came back to you and would take you to the movies or to have a smoothie down the street while he told you about the bad guy he had just fought. You were sure it was a matter of time before he came back that time again. Only he didn’t, just like so many other people.

When the ship disappeared, you and your parents came back inside, still shaken up but glad that it was gone. Your dad kept on repeating the same over and over again “the Avengers will take care of it.” None of you knew how wrong he was, but you found out how bad the situation was just some hours later, when you were in your room with Arya on your lap and, literally out of nowhere, she turned into dust in front of your eyes.

“Arya?!” You exclaimed, trying to catch the dust she left behind.

“NO!” Your mum’s scream made the hair at the back of your head rise.

You jumped off your bed and ran downstairs, almost falling over when you tripped with one of your shoe laces. You ran into the kitchen, looked around and you found your mum kneeled on the floor, with a big amount of dust on her hands and on the floor. Your heart stopped and tears appeared in your eyes.

“Mum?” You whispered. She looked up, tears down her eyes. “Where’s dad?”

“He… he…” she mumbled and looked down at the dust.

“No…” you shook her head, not wanting to believe it. “WHERE’S DAD?”

Completely out of your mind, you ran towards the front door and opened it, running out to find the most terrible scenario in front of you. Birds, people, pets, all turning into dust just in front of you while some others looked at them in shock.

It was the end.

You still had nightmares about that day. Nightmares that made you wake up screaming, sweating and crying. Your mum would come every single night, hold you until you calmed and fall asleep with you. After a few days, there was a message from Captain America on every TV. He explained what had happened and how: Thanos had erased half of the living population on Earth. He said they were already trying to find a way to take them back. They still didn’t know how to do it but he encouraged everyone to have hope.

The first week, you would go by Peter’s apartment every day, just to have May telling you there was no sign of him. She said he was probably one of the Vanished, but you just couldn’t accept it. Not until a month and a half after the Snap, there was a knock on your door and you found Tony Stark on the other side of your door with the news you had been dreading: Peter had vanished.

You wanted to blame Stark. Blame him for dragging Peter into the avenging life, but you knew it wasn’t his fault. You knew Peter well enough to know he would have keep on going with or without Mr Stark’s approval, because you knew Peter wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t. And the fact that Stark looked as devastated as you were, made it impossible for you to blame him.

“Is there any way to…?” You asked.

You had invited him into your house and were now sitting in the kitchen, with a mug of coffee in your hands and another in his.

“I don’t know”, Tony shook his head. “I’ve been locked in my lab trying to come up with something but I don’t even know what exactly happened after the snap. They all just…”

“Turned to dust”, you finished his sentence. Tony nodded and gave you a small squeeze that made you tear up. “Thank you for telling, Mr. Stark”, you whispered.

“I know how special you were to him”, he said. You looked up at him surprised, which made him smile a little. “He may never have told you, but he wouldn’t shut up about you.”

“I wish I knew that before”, you sighed. “Now I’ve… we’ve lost him.”

“I’ll bring him back. I’ll bring everyone back”, he said.

It had been five years since that conversation. Since then, you had only seen him a couple of times. You knew, just like everyone else, he had married Pepper Potts, but that was all you knew. Peter never came back, nor did your dad, your cat, or anyone. And you missed them terribly. You thought you would all go back to normal, but you didn’t, you couldn’t move on.

“Sweetie”, your mum said walking in your room. “Aren’t you going to school today?”

“No, mum”, you said. “Mrs Hopper is taking care of her husband, so she can’t go today and they couldn’t find a substitute”, you explained.

“Oh okay”, she nodded.

“I’ll go for the third period, though. Mr Leyton is finally back”, you added.

“Great” she half smiled. No one really smiled anymore. “Can you help me with something, then?”

“Sure”, you nodded and closed your laptop. You had been working on a History essay but you knew it was okay if you didn’t hand it over on time. “What is it?”

“I want to take some stuff up to the attic”, she said as you two went downstairs.

“What stuff?” You asked.

“Just some old stuff from your dad’s office”, she said.

You looked at her astonished. You had been telling her for a long time that you could empty your dad’s office and use it for something else. Maybe your mother could babysit kids or something to earn some more money, but she never actually got to do it until now.

“Are you sure?” You asked.

“It’s time”, she nodded. “Can you get a scissor from the kitchen, please?”

“Sure”, you nodded and changed directions to go to the kitchen.

However, you didn’t make it to the kitchen. A noise coming from the stairs got your attention. A noise you hadn’t heard in five years. You frowned and walked over the stairs slowly, wondering what it could be. Maybe it was your imagination. It wouldn’t be the first it messed with you in the past five years.

“(Y/N)?”

You opened your eyes widely when you recognise that voice and turned around.

“Dad?” You whispered when you saw your dad standing in the doorway of the kitchen, using the same clothes he was wearing the day of the Snap. “You… what… MUM!”

“Yes, sweetie?” Your mum said coming out of your dad’s office, just to stop on her tracks when she saw your dad, like she was seeing a ghost. “Roger?”

“Amanda, what happened?”

You gasped when something touched your leg and, when you looked down, you saw Arya rubbing herself against your leg like she always used to do. She looked up at you and meowed and that’s when you lost it.

“Oh my God, you’re back”, you sobbed before picking up your cat and hugging her. Then you put her down and ran to hug your dad, who looked confused as hell.

“What happened? Did I pass out? What’s going on?” He kept on asking as you and your mum hugged him tight.

***

The first day of their return was the happiest day in the last five years. Families were reunited all around the globe, you could hear laughing outside again as friends, families and couples were reunited. Yet, it wasn’t until the end of the day when you realised what this meant.

“Peter”, you mumbled.

“Sorry?” Your dad said.

“Peter! Peter must be back!” You suddenly exclaimed and got up, running out of the house without saying anything else.

Peter didn’t live far from you. It used to be a twenty-minutes-walk, but this time you made it in ten, even if that meant that you were out of the breath when you reached his building. All the way there, you couldn’t stop thinking about what you’d do. It had been five years but, according to your dad, for him it was like he just passed out and woke up again. Did this mean you were now five years older than Peter? It didn’t even matter. All you knew is that you wanted to hug him again.

“May! May, it’s me! Open the door, please!” You started screaming when you reached her door and starting knocking non-stop. In less than a minute, she opened the door. “Is he back?” You asked, trying to come in, but she stopped you with a hand on your shoulder. “What? What’s wrong? Isn’t he back? But… my dad, Arya, everyone-“

“He is back”, she interrupted you. “But…” she sighed. “Something happened.”

You frowned and tried to look pass her, but you couldn’t see him anywhere. What happened?

“What is it? Is he okay?”

“Tony Stark died”, she simply said.

You gasped at the news, completely speechless. Tony Stark… dead? Despite not really knowing him, you knew how much he meant to Peter. Tony had been his mentor and a father figure to him. That loss would break him.

“Can I see him?” You asked.

“Of course”, she nodded, finally letting you in.

You walked into the familiar room where everything looked exactly the same. The couch was where it had always been, there was a bigger TV than before and many more photos on the wall. May must had hung them there along these years. Most of them were Peter’s, but there were so many of them.

“(Y/N)?”

You looked towards the kitchen, from where Peter looked at you with red and puffy eyes, messy and wet hair, like he just took a shower. He looked exactly the same. Except now he looked completely broken and devastated. You bit your lip and made your way towards him. You wanted to run, but you took it slow, until he was the one walking over you and wrapping his arms around you tightly.

You closed your eyes and wrapped your arms around his body, feeling it shake when he started crying. His familiar scent surrounded you and, finally, you felt like home again. The feeling made you hug him even tighter. It was Peter, he was back and you would be the happiest person on earth if it wasn’t because of the shadow hovering over him.

“I am so sorry, Pete…” you whispered against his neck.

“He’s gone, (Y/N)”, he sobbed. “He brought us back and he’s gone.”

You couldn’t stop the tears in your eyes from falling. It was impossible to control. Seeing Peter like this broke your heart in a way you couldn’t describe. You kissed his shoulder softly and pulled away, holding his face in your hands so he looked at you.

“What will I do?” He mumbled. Biting your lip, you whipped away some tears.

“You will make him proud”, you said. He sobbed a bit more and pulled you into another hug. “I missed you so much, Peter”, you whispered.

***

You spent most of the next few days with Peter. You talked to your parents and explained what happened. Since they knew how much you Peter meant to you, they knew you needed to be with him at the moment and he also needed you there. He spent hours telling you what had happened since he left the bus and knowing the whole story made it even more terrifying. Finally, he told you what had happened when he had come back, he told you about the huge fight and how Tony had died. Saving everyone. When Peter asked you to go to the funeral with him you thought it would be weird, but you couldn’t say no.

It was a small gathering, but quite impressive, touching and intense. All Avengers were there, most of them you knew, but some others were complete strangers to you. It was at Tony’s and Pepper’s country house, next to the lake in front of the house they shared.

“Come?” he whispered holding your hand when they were going to put Tony’s memorial on the lake.

“I’ll stay here, okay?” You said also in a whisper. “This is for you, guys”, you added. He took a deep breath and nodded.

“She’s right, Peter”, May said, rubbing his arm. Peter looked at her and nodded. “I’ll go with you.”

“Alright”, he mumbled before taking a step towards you and kissing your forehead.

You took a deep breath and stood next to the wooden stairs that led to the house, seeing how everyone walked down the small wooden pier. Pepper and Morgan were firsts, of course, with Happy y Rhodey just behind them and then Steve and Peter. You gulped and teared again. You had no idea how many times you had cried the last few days.

“He will be okay”, you looked up to find Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes next to you. “We all will”, he nodded giving you a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“I know” you nodded and looked back at the pier. “But it won’t be the same.”

When the funeral was over, everyone went into the house for the service. You spent the next hour next to Peter, holding his hand the whole time as he made a bit of small talk with everyone. It was obvious, at least for you, that he wasn’t really listening to anything they said to him, but you wouldn’t judge him. It would take him some time to adjust.

“Want to go out for a bit?” You asked when Steve shook his hand and squeezed your shoulder gently.

“Yes, please”, he whispered.

When you were out, you both took a seat on the stairs in front of the house, as close to each other as possible. Peter held your hand and rubbed the back of yours with his thumb in silent, his eyes lost in the distance.

“It’s not fair”, he whispered with hoarse voice. You looked at him. “He had everything he ever wanted: Pepper, Morgan, this house… And he had to sacrifice everything just… to bring us back. It’s not fair”, he repeated shaking his head.

“I know but… I think he…” you sighed. “He loved you Peter, and I think he was just relieved you were back.”

“I know”, he said looking down at your hands. “These last five years…” he shook his head. “I don’t know, I guess I just have the feeling that if I didn’t vanish, then he…”

“No, Peter”, you said. “You can’t blame yourself for this. Tony wasn’t going to stop until he got you all back, and you know that. You knew him.”

“But I couldn’t save him”, he said looking at you. “He saved me so many times and I couldn’t…”

“No one could save him, Pete”, you said. “You said it yourself, he was the one who took the gems and… it was his decision, Peter. He died saving the world, saving everyone. He is a hero and you were lucky enough to have him in your life.” Peter sighed and nodded, looking away from you.

“I am indeed lucky”, he nodded after a few minutes. “I’m lucky to have you, you know?” he said, looking at you. You gave him a small smile. “Thank you, (Y/N)”

You were about to reply, to say there was nothing to thank, that you would always be there for him, but he closed the distance between you two and placed his lips over yours in a small, sweet and tender kiss. It took you off guard, but your heart fluttered with the kiss. When he pulled away he gave you a shy smile.

“I’m sorry for interrupting, guys”, you two looked back to find Pepper in the doorway with a small smile on her lips and Morgan on her arms. “Will you come in? There’s something we all need to see.”

You two nodded and got up, never letting each other’s hands go, and walked in. Everyone was gathered around the couch, where Morgan and Pepper took a seat. Peter gasped when he saw the hologram of Tony in front of it.

“Tony recorded this message before… well… you all know”, Happy said. “He told me to show it to all of you in case… you know”, he nodded to himself. “Shall I?” He asked Pepper, who just nodded and wrapped an arm around Morgan at the same time Peter wrapped one around you.

The moment Happy pressed the play button on the little remote he was using, you felt Peter’s arm pull you close when Tony’s hologram started moving and took a seat on the holographic chair. You looked up and saw a single tear falling down his cheek.

“Everyone wants a happy ending, right?”, Tony said, making you turn your attention to him. “But it doesn’t always go that way. Maybe this time… I’m hoping if you play this back is in celebration”, you bite your lip and wrapped an arm around Peter as well, hugging him as your own tears came down your face. “I hope families are reunited, I hope you get it back and something like a normal version of the planet has been restored. If there ever was such…a thing”, you smiled a little at that. The world had never been normal, let alone now. “Damn world…universe now. If you had told me ten years ago that we weren’t alone at this extend I… I wouldn’t have been surprised but c’mon! But…epic forces of dark and light have come into play. And, for better or worse, that’s the reality Morgan is gonna have to find a way and grow up in.”

You looked at the little girl sitting on the couch. You wondered if she knew the great things her father had done and how much he loved her… Somehow you knew she did, or at least she imagined.

“So I thought I’d probably better record a little greeting in case of an untimely death on my part”, you sobbed a little and hugged Peter tighter. “No that death at any time is ever timely. This time-travel thing we’re going to try and pull off tomorrow got me scratching my head about the survivability. But then again that’s the hero gig. Part of the journey is the end.” You sighed and looked at Peter, who was looking at Tony with such admiration, love and sadness that broke your heart. “What am I tripping for?” Tony said getting up from the chair. “Everything is gonna work out exactly the way it’s supposed to.” Then he bended down just in front of Morgan, looking at her with a loving smile, like he could actually see her. “I love you 3000.”

With that, he disappeared and everyone stood in silent. Peter kissed your head softly and you looked at him, so he kissed your forehead this time, not moving his lips from your skin afterwards, just breathing in and out, trying to calm himself down.

“I love you”, you whispered.

He pulled away and looked down at you. He knew how you felt about him, just like you knew how he felt about you, but you had never said those words out loud and hearing them in such a moment, those words gave them some strength. The strength he needed to pull himself together. He took a deep breath and looked up. Tony was gone. He was going to miss him and it was going to hurt. But Peter know Tony hadn’t given his life for him to waste him, for any of them to waste it. He would make Tony proud and he would make you, his own 3000, happy.

Parity of Fate 

Rating: M, Ship: Emma/Killian/Milah

Summary:

Zeus does very little that isn't to his own advantage- so why did he return Killian Jones to Storybrooke? And are all the Gods on Olympus content for Zeus to get his own way without consequence again? Divine interventions bring turmoil to Storybrooke and a prophecy that no one wants fulfilled.

Disclaimer: None of the OUAT world belongs to me.

First: This is a polyamory fic featuring a relationship between Emma Swan, Killian Jones and Milah- if that isn't something you want to read, please move on. This is canon divergent from the point at which Robin is hit by the Olympian Crystal- which rather than "ending" him, instead transported him to Mount Olympus. While bits from Series 6 will be refered to, this is basically AU from then on. At 5000 words I'm not sure whether this really counts as a prologue, but as that's the function this chapter serves I will continue to call it such. Also on AO3

Parity of Fate

Prologue

"No!"  Robin moved without thinking, stepping into the bolt flying from Hades' hand.  It didn't hurt so much as shock- his feelings, his thought narrowed to a single point.

This was goodbye.

He wished he could tell her, could kiss her one last time, but for all his efforts he could actually feel himself coming apart, drifting away.  He was reminded of the dandelion clocks Roland loved playing with.

Roland.

The thought of his son; the panic, the fear, the love- it had some substance behind it.  Weight.  Robin gasped, the gulp of air burning its way down into his lungs and he could feel all the parts of himself pulling back together.  As his body solidified beneath his thoughts the pain, at last, came flowing in.

He landed on his knees, the impact too unexpected to prepare himself for, but it provided a kind of relief- because if he could feel pain, could physically embrace a floor then Hades was wrong- the Olympian Crystal had no erased him, it had merely transported him, and that meant there was a way back.

Robin forced his eyes to process his surroundings. It was so white, so bright, that it took him a few attempts to open them all the way without wincing.  He was in a corridor of gigantic proportions, columns beginning next to him towering into swirling clouds.  Robin pushed himself to his feet and stepped out from behind a pillar. The promenade extended indefinitely- to his left he thought he might be able to make out steps leading up to a gate, but without moving closer he couldn't be sure.  To Robin's right, a good few hundred metres away were two figures in conversation.  One, with his back to Robin, clearly belonged in this place, his white garments and ephemeral being forming part of the eerie surroundings, but the other stood out in sharp contrast.

The shot of recognition had Robin running towards the figures, but however fast he moved his legs the distance refused to close. Desperately he cried out.

"Killian!"  For a second he thought he'd been heard- Killian's face filling with surprise; but as he stopped running Robin realised his companion's reaction was to whatever conversation he was having with the white-clothed figure.

"Hook!"  He tried again, but it was futile- the magic of whatever realm this was providing only deaf ears and blind eyes.  Captain Hook turned his back and began to walk away before being engulfed in light, leaving Robin face to face with-

"I am Zeus.  Ruler of The Olympians.  Where your friend goes, you cannot follow.  You do not belong.  There or here."  The god frowned slightly before sweeping his arm in front of Robin's face.

Instantly the white corridor was gone, replaced by no-less-impressive stone and iron bars.  Robin had been in gaols before, but somehow he felt confident that for all his charms and trickery he would not be escaping this one without Zeus' blessing. Not least because Hades occupied a cell across from his.

"If it isn't my favourite brother." Sarcasm dripped from the words as the god's hair lit up in blue flame, betraying his emotions.

"What were you thinking Hades?  We agreed a long time ago to remain in our own realms; to leave mankind alone."

"You agreed Zeus.  Then you banished me to The Underworld and froze my heart."

"We drew lots- you won The Underworld.  Then you won Zelena's heart.  You had everything."

"I had nothing- a broken kingdom and a broken heart."

"If it can be broken that means it still works. You always had love, you just chose to turn away from us."  Zeus' words came out in a sigh and Robin had a feeling that this was an old conversation. "Imagine brother- sky, sea and death, working together as equals- a triumvirate of universal proportions.  We would no longer be confined to our respective realms, but be able to summon the power of all."  Zeus was pleading with his brother but Hades was clearly uninterested.

"Just send me back.  I have no interest in staying here or in fulfilling your prophecy. And I'll take him with me." The god gestured towards Robin and he felt a denial fall from his lips as a shot of fear ran through him, remembering Hook's appearance after spending time as Hades' personal guest.

"No." Zeus' voice was firm, leaving no room for argument.  "His destiny has been written."  Robin felt his eyebrows rise.

"Far be it for me to argue with a god," the words left his mouth before his brain caught up, "but I can write my own destiny thank you."  Tobin worried slightly that he might have drawn too much attention to himself, but the brothers spared him barely a glance before Hades continued.

"Then I have a pirate to take my frustrations out on awaiting me."

"You will remain here a while longer." Zeus said and Hades' hair lit up once more, anger rolling off him in waves.  "The Underworld is in good hands for now and Killian Jones is where he is needed."

"What did you do?"  Hades hissed out through gritted teeth.

"You have been hoarding souls for far too long. Killian Jones instilled order in your realm, inspired its new caretaker and provided the means to reunite us- he deserved a second chance."

"What did you do?"  Hades repeated.

"He was needed in Storybrooke."  Zeus stated simply and Robin felt relief flood through him.  It had all been worth it.  Emma's insane mission to rescue Killian.  He briefly wondered whether there was any hope of a similar one for him; whether he was needed- but it didn't seem the time to ask.

The anger was rolling off Hades in waves- the air becoming so thick Robin could almost taste it.  He was taller than his brother, physically much more imposing, but Zeus exuded raw power.

"Now who's interfering in the lives of mortals, brother?"  Hades asked. "You're up to something- what do you know?" Zeus' only answer was a small smile and Robin watched the anger ebb from Hades as intrigue took over.  "Sex or power..."  His voice was considering.  "They're the only reasons you do anything big brother.  And I can't see the pirate attracting your attention... So power."

"Hades-” Zeus began, obviously meaning to placate but failing.

"You already have too much power- I will not let you increase it."  Hades concluded soundly.  "Maybe I will stick around a while longer- I've never really been given the opportunity to truly appreciate the delights of Olympus."

"Very well brother."  Zeus all but grinned before gesturing to Hades' cell, causing the bars to evaporate.  "Welcome."

A rush of cold air filled the gaol at the two gods disappeared and Robin felt himself relax slightly.  He finally took the opportunity to assess his surroundings. A solid stone cavern was the basis of the prison; the individual cells divided by simple iron bars- there were no doors or windows- no locks to pick, no hinges to force, no glass to shatter. Given Hades' confinement Robin suspected magic would be out even if he possessed any and given Hades' release he suspected his fate was literally in the hands of the gods- or god- Zeus.

There were no facilities provided in the cell and the optimistic part of Robin hoped that meant his imprisonment would be short.  A low laugh came from somewhere to his right and Robin scanned the cavern for its source.

"You have no need for such worries on Olympus." A glow emanated from the cell next to Robin's, revealing a boy, not that much older than Henry, leaning against the bars making up the far side of his cell.  His features were dark and angular, reminding Robin almost of Roland, the similarity accentuated by the curls that licked at his ears.  He was dressed as Zeus had been in a white toga, and a crown that looked to be woven from golden vines perched upon the unruly tangles of his hair.

"I do beg your pardon?"  Robin asked.

"You are no longer of the living Locksley, and thus mortal concerns are no longer yours to bare- you need not eat or drink or sleep.  You may of course, but it is no longer a necessity."

"Right."  Robin absorbed this information with a frown.  "And you are?"

The boy grinned before pushing himself up and extending a hand through the railings.

"I am Apollo, god of foresight- and do I have a tale to tell you."

***

The street lights were flickering for some reason and it was the first thing that clued Emma in to the fact that this was not a normal dream.

She looked around her, taking in her surroundings; noting the heavy sword in her right hand and the ornate curved dagger in her left. Somewhere behind her she heard Henry's voice calling to her and then David's in reply.  She's not alone.

A heavy darkness was approaching, a wave of shadow spilling down main street, encompassing Granny's and hiding it from view before stopping just short of the traffic signals and waiting.  It seemed to pulse in anticipation, drawing itself up in defence; an inky wall of threat.

Emma assessed her options; the lucidity of her thoughts again dispelling any notion of this being a dream.  She was sure the blades in her hands would do little against the incorporeal blackness that breathes over her, but her family were behind her, relying on her for protection.

Emma discarded the sword and brought up her hand, firing a bolt of magic into the shadow.  The darkness parted around it before it surged forward, surrounding her, tightening, squeezing before it entered her, oozing into her eyes and ears, nose and mouth: blinding, deafening, choking.

"Emma!"  His voice sounded so far away, muffled by the shadow and although she wanted to there was no way she could reply- the dark surging into her throat and filling it beyond anything she can accommodate.  She brought her hands up to her throat, the dagger falling away as she clawed at herself, desperately trying to open her airway.

Then pain flared up in her cheek, a flash of light against the darkness that seemed to spread out, allowing her eyes to open and a gasp to pass her lips, drawing fresh breath into her lungs in gulps until she coughs against the sensation.

"Emma?"  She allowed her eyes to focus- taking in the ceiling of the bedroom, the slightly pink light of daybreak poking its way through the curtains to play against the bookshelves and finally Killian, leaning over her, the concern on his face highlighted by the panic racing through his eyes as he scans her up and down. The tingling in her left cheek is the only remnant of her dream and she reached up to fun her fingers gently over it.

"Did you..."  She started to ask, but her voice came out raspy and broken.  Without her asking Killian reached over and handed her a glass of water and helped her to sit up.  The liquid soothed her aching throat almost making her forget her question. Almost.  "Did you slap me?"

Relief washed over his face and he let out an awkward bark of laughter.

"Sorry Love, nothing else was working- I may have been a bit hasty."  He said. She let a smile move over her features, knowing that whatever that was that had invaded her sleep it had impacted on her physically too- and the pain in her cheek really had been the only thing to penetrate the inky black sludge that had been suffocating her.  He returned it timidly, his eyes filling with questions and concern. "Are you okay?"

"I am now."  She tried to reassure him.

"What was that?"

"It was just a dream, I don't really remember."  It's not a lie but it's not really the truth either.  All Emma could remember now was the blackness and the choking and she wanted to push those as far back as possible in the part of her mind labelled 'things she never wants to think about again'.

"Last I checked Love, dreams don't try to end your existence."  Killian pushed gently at her.

"I promise, I'm fine."  Emma saw him struggle with whether to force the issue before he relaxed slightly and pulled her into his arms.

She didn't want to go back to sleep despite the alarm clock telling her it was only a little after five and she was very aware that Killian would usually be up now anyway and he'll be watching her for signs of there being anything else wrong.  She couldn't decide whether the 'dream' was an extension of the vision she'd had yesterday. In that there had been a hooded figure stabbing her- and honestly, she wasn't sure she wouldn't prefer that to whatever she'd felt just now.  There was also the issue of whether this was a portent of the next big bad or whether the last four years in Storybrooke had finally caught up with her and she was just on the verge of the nervous breakdown that's long overdue...

Until there was something more solid to go on, Emma really couldn't see the point in worrying Hook with talk of visions and dreams and his hand running over her back beneath her tank was distracting her own worries too.  She decided to take advantage of that and moved her head up off his shoulder to kiss along his jawline.  He met her lips eagerly and pulled her on top of him.

"You should sleep."  Killian muttered against her lips and she couldn't help but smile at his ever-present concern for her welfare.

"Really?"  She rolled her hips slowly against him, dragging along the length of his erection and drawing a low moan from him.  "Is that what you want?"

The next half an hour helped Emma to clear her mind but the welcome emptiness was short lived.  In the shower the water entered her nose and for a split second she felt the suffocation of the darkness again and pulling on her underwear afterwards she brushed her hand over her abdomen, feeling the sword entering her. Killian's eyes never left her while they were in the same room and she ignored his sigh as she insisted on showering alone.  She can't organise her thoughts this early without caffeine and pulled on his discarded button down from yesterday before making her way to the kitchen.

***

"Swan?"  Killian looked curiously across the kitchen to where Emma was absentmindedly hitting the buttons on the coffee machine, clearly acting on autopilot.  She failed to respond and Killian took a moment to drink in the scene: the house he'd chosen for them, the beautiful woman who'd become his anchor, the fact that he lived were indescribable, but it was the little things that sometimes overwhelmed him- the dishes from last night's meal in the sink, abandoned in favour of other activities, the laces of his and Emma's boots tangled together by the door, his shirt commandeered to loosely cover her shoulders, red and black leather jackets side by side on the rack. Glorious signs that their lives were intertwined now.

Emma yelped as she spilled water on the counter and down her front, snapping both of them from their thoughts.  Killian grabbed the tea towel from the table and crossed the distance between them.

"Let me."  He dabbed the towel over her stomach before catching her eye.

"Thank you."  She said with a smile, reaching up to kiss him briefly.

"Well love, that shirt's silk and wasn't cheap- I'd hate to see it ruined."  He grinned at her eye roll.  He knew that something was bothering her- the tremoring in her hand and the near asphyxiation he'd woken to this morning only the surface, and he also knew that as much as he wished she would confide in him that until she'd fully processed it herself there was little point in him forcing the issue.  He'd wait, as he always did, and she would come to him, as she always did.  Eventually.

"I could always remove it."  Emma suggested, before kissing him again.  "Before I spill anything else on it."  Killian swore he growled as he attacked her lips, pushing her back into the counter with his hips before trailing his hand up her arm to the back of her neck.  Emma's tongue played at his lips as she moved to unbutton his waistcoat.  Briefly he wondered why he'd bothered to get dressed before a sharp rap at the front door interrupted.  He pulled back with a sigh.

"Bloody hell."  He groaned under his breath, drawing a bark of laughter from Emma.

"Later."  She promised and he moved to the coffee maker, back to the door as Emma went to answer. Matching mugs sat together on the counter- gifts from Henry, white and drawn on in Sharpie- one with a hook, the other a swan.  Emma had almost cried when they'd unwrapped them at Christmas, her son's gruff "I was just too cheap to get you real gifts." attempting to cover his embarrassment.

No, Killian never thought he'd get used to the little things.

***

Hades was relieved to finally find an actual door leading from Olympus to outside.  He could have opened a portal but Zeus had far less chance of finding him this way. His brother had spent the last few hours escorting him around the sights of Olympus, obviously trying to emphasise his supposed benevolence by distracting him.  But Hades was not as fickle as his brother believed and following a particularly strained encounter with Demeter he had taken his leave. Hades was not blind to the wonders of Olympus, but if he was to be forced to remain he would spend the time he had ensuring Zeus' plans went unfulfilled.

Travelling to Feneos was easy, but the landscape had changed dramatically over the millennia and it took a few hours of searching before he found the small spring he was searching for.

The source of The River of Lost Souls.

It was a tenuous link to his realm but Hades took full advantage, bathing his hands in the water and letting the tendrils of his magic be carried down its path.  Closing his eyes, he could sense the changes in his realm.  The steady beat of the clocktower strumming at his magic, letting him know just how many souls were being allowed to move on, lost to him forever. There was an order to it too, control; enough to let him know that Zeus' comment about Killian Jones instilling a new caretaker had been the truth.

Anger filled Hades' veins, his very soul burning with hatred for his brother and the pirate.  The damn savior.  She had taken everything from him and he would be only too pleased to return the favour.

Hades stretched out his fingers, flexing the ribbons of his magic; searching, seeking, finding, grasping, tightening, pulling.  He laughed in victory as his quarry was dragged from the depths to settle in his fingers.  He pushed his magic into it, forcing it to take physical form once more.

The woman in his arms had never drawn his attention in The Underworld; had been one of millions of insignificant souls.  But now, transported to Storybrooke, she represented his greatest hope.  the irony was not lost on him- that he of all beings was left to rely on hope.

Hades thought of Storybrooke, pictured it in his mind hard enough that it began to merge into his current surroundings- the streets and docks transposed over the quiet mountainside.  Zeus had blocked him from entering the town himself but he had no real need to.  He laid the woman down on the wooden floor before relaxing his magic, finding himself alone above the mountains of Feneos once more.  With a smile he began to ascent the mountainside making his way back to Olympus and his brother.

***

"This would be so much easier if Robin was here."  Emma said quietly and wasn't surprised when she felt Killian's arm drape over her shoulders.

"Aye- there's not a nook in these woods he didn't know."  His voice was softer than the words needed and Emma knew he understood what had prompted her words- not the endless search for stragglers from The Land of Untold Stories that may be lost or hurt in the woods, but the acknowledgement that despite her title she had failed to save everyone and bore that weight heavily. It had been weeks since their return from New York.  Regina was still being distant, unwilling to help since rejecting the serum to split her good and evil halves, and Emma was unwilling to ask too much.  But Robin's death hadn't only affected Regina- Roland and Robyn had lost their father, David had lost a confidant, the merry men had lost their leader, Hook a 'mate' and even Zelena seemed to be grieving. All because she had allowed Hades into this realm.  Emma had considered going to see Dr Hopper when the visions had started; the word psychosomatic echoing around her head; and she can see the logic in that- maybe if she believed that she would die as the savior then those around her dying wouldn't seem so bad.  But the dreams... They had come for five consecutive nights now and Killian had woken her every time.

She reached up and took hold of his hook, resting by the side of her neck, pulling it down and herself tighter into his side.  His support was unwavering and in that moment she made a decision.

Hook and Henry were always telling her she didn't need to do everything alone; maybe she should take a chance and believe them.

"I've been having visions."  Emma said quietly, the words rushing out before she had a chance to change her mind.  "That's what's been making my hand..." She trailed off as she felt Killian go stiff beside her, but it was only a moment before he pulled her to the edge of the clearing they were in and guided her to a log they could sit on. He straddled it, pulling her into his chest, his hook resting against her hip and his hand taking hers, running small circles over it with his thumb.

"Tell me, love."  He urged

"It's dark and we're all in Main Street." She began, but isn't sure where to go from there.

"Who?"

"I'm not sure- you're there, and my father... Henry I think... I don't know."  She let out a frustrated grunt.  The visions were so quick and vague and now they were getting confused in her memory with the dreams.  Hook, of course, picked up on what was bothering her and drew her mind away from the block.

"Okay, so what happens?"

"There's this person in a hooded cloak that comes out of nowhere and he has a sword that he runs me through with."

"And?"

"And nothing- I die.  He kills me."  Emma snapped out the words and she felt Killian tense- whether in defence or fear she wasn't sure.

"This hooded figure- they just walk up and stab you?"  She pulled back at his words, offended that he didn't seem to be taking the situation more seriously.  His face didn't reassure her much either, one eyebrow raised, but before her ire had a chance to rise he continued.  "Because the Emma I know would never go out without a fight, so these visions can't be fixed."

"But that's the thing, Killian- it's like I can't fight, like there's something holding me, like in the dreams-"

"The dreams?"  His face closed off, waiting for her to continue before he let any emotion seep through.  She sighed- of course he'd been waiting for her to talk about the dreams.

"They're similar."  She explains, "but instead of the Sith lord there's just this solid wall of darkness that's covering everything- it's like a tidal wave and when it hits-"

"You drown."  Hook finished for her.  Because of course he'd know what drowning looks like, had probably known from the first dream that that was what was happening to her.  The fear leaked into his eyes as she watched and she reached over to kiss him gently.

"I'm sorry."  Emma said

"For what?"

"For not telling you earlier- I just..." She tried to think of the words to explain it to him.  "I didn't know if it was real or not and I didn't want you to worry if it wasn't and-” Killian’s fingers on her lips cut her off.

"I understand, Swan."

"Really?  'Cause if it was you-"

"Then you'd understand too.  That's how we do things, aye?"  A small smile played over his lips as he continued.  "We come to each other, we lean on each over, and we deal with it together."  Emma couldn't help but match his smile and she felt the warmth of relief flood over her.  Confiding in Killian never seemed hard after the fact.

"Together, right?"  She asked

"Together."  He replied. "Look- everything's uncertain, but you have to know Emma, whatever the future brings I will always, always be by your side."

"I know."  She said- and she did- he'd proven it a hundred times over.  "So what do we do?"

"Well..."  Killian's forehead crinkled slightly as he thought and despite everything Emma felt herself smiling almost giddily up at him.  "We go through everything you remember, try to figure-” He caught a glimpse of her face and stopped talking with a slight frown.  "What?"

"Nothing."  She leant over to kiss him again.  "I'm just happy- sometimes it surprises me."

"Aye love," He matched her smile with one of his own.  "Me too."

***

Henry left the school bus to take up his new position at Granny's, story book and pen at the ready.  The rush of arrivals from The Land of Untold Stories had slowed somewhat but there was still someone most afternoons waiting for The Author's assistance.

Granny handed Henry a hot chocolate as soon as he entered before pointing over to one of the booths where a girl- woman, Henry corrected himself- sat alone.  He guessed she was sixteen or seventeen and wore a white sundress despite the autumnal chill in the air.  Dark curls tumbled down her spine and her tan skin contrasted sharply with her piercing green eyes and pale lips.  She was, Henry decided, the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

It took at least a minute for him to force his feet to move in the direction of the table, and another two for him to decide what to say.

"Hi, I'm Henry Mills- did you want a drink?" Smooth, he thought to himself sarcastically and couldn't help conjuring up an image of Killian in his mind grinning and giving him a thumbs up of encouragement.

"Thank you."  Her voice was like music he thought as she turned to look at him. "But I'm fine."  She smiled and her face lit up.  "I'm Tabitha- I've been waiting for you."

"Of- of course."  Henry stuttered, sliding into the booth.  "If you tell me a little of your story then I can maybe help you find what you need to reach your happy ending- they're kind of my family's stock-in-trade."

"Trade?"  Amusement danced behind Tabitha's eyes for a moment.  "Then you require payment?"

"Oh no!" He tried to backtrack, "Nothing like that- it's just, my mom's The Savior, my other mom's the mayor, I'm The Author and my grandmother's Snow White, so it's just what we do- we try to give people their happy endings.  So if I can help-” He trailed off

"Thank you, Henry Mills, but my happy ending was a long time ago."  Tabitha said and Henry frowned in confusion.

"Then why were you in The Land of Untold Stories?"  He asked.

"Whatever made you think I was?"  She replied.

"But then how-"

"Come now.  I may not be in need of assistance, but I know one who is."  Abruptly Tabitha stood, retrieving a bow and quiver from the bench and donning them with ease before marching toward the door. She never checked whether Henry was following her, but he barely paused to throw a note in Granny's direction to pay for his cocoa before stumbling out of the diner in pursuit.

"Tabby, wait."  He called.

"Tabby?"  She slowed slightly before turning to face him.  He briefly wondered if he'd offended her with the declension before catching the amusement dancing over her features.

"Where are we going?"

"That way."  She pointed towards the docks and Henry fell into step beside her.

"Who is it that needs our help?  A friend of yours?"  He asked.

"I've never met her."  She replied.

"Well why didn't she come herself?  Is she hurt?  Do I need to call an ambulance or-"

"She just needs you."  Tabitha said and Henry frowned, almost as frustrated as he remembered being before his memories were restored after Pan's curse.  The cryptic answers that only led to more questions- but at least this time he wasn't being literally shipped off with Hook or Grumpy every two minutes.

Tabitha stopped suddenly and Henry realised he'd spoken too soon as he realised they were at the gangplank of The Jolly Roger.  The girl leant over a placed a kiss on his cheek causing, he was sure, a flush to spread over his face and down his neck.

"Good luck, Henry Mills- I hope you succeed in your quest for happy endings for all."  She smiled and gestured for him to board the ship.  He did so before turning back.  Tabitha was gone.

Henry considered running back towards town to search for her, but he had to check out the Jolly first- she'd been adamant that someone was in need of help here.

"Hello?"  He called. "Killian?  Is anyone here?"  A groan came from up by the helm and Henry rushed up the steps to find a woman sprawled across the deck, semi-conscious.  He knelt beside her and rolled her onto her side in a vague imitation of the recovery position before pulling her hair away from her face.

There was something about her that Henry couldn't quite place; a familiarity.  Her eyes fluttered and another groan fell from her lips.

"Are you hurt?"  He asked, his eyes briefly surveying for any obvious injury. "Can you hear me?  Do you know where you are?"

Suddenly the woman sat upright and grasped his arms tightly, her eyes bright and alert, searching his face.

"Baelfire?"  She gasped in question, before she took in the rest of her surroundings.  "The Jolly Roger."  She smiled in relief before pulling Henry to her.  "Is this- have I moved on?  Have I really-” She pushed Henry back again, searching his face before a smile broke over her and tears filled her eyes.

Henry's initial shock and confusion gave way to something much darker and he felt as if he'd swallowed a rock as he realised just why the woman embracing him seemed so familiar.

"Milah?"  He asked with trepidation and he saw the smile fall from her face, doubt rushing in to take its place.  She nodded in affirmation.

With a sigh, Henry reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his phone.

"Mom, are you with Killian?"  He asked quietly.  "I need you to come to The Jolly Roger straight away."

---

Thank you to everyone that's read this far.  This is the first thing of substance I've written in over a decade and I hope it's up to par- or at least entices one or two of you to come back for chapter one.

Any errors are my own- this is unbetaed, although if anyone is interested in helping out drop me a message on tumblr (forestiyari) and be prepared for 24/7 ramblings related to the gods!

I rewatched the whole of series 5 to see whether Robin and Killian refer to each other as anything other than "mate"... if they do, I missed it

Hey - Pat from StarterStory.com here with another interview.Today's interview is with Nick Griffiths of Any Old Lights, a brand that sells vintage lightingSome stats:Product: Vintage LightingRevenue/mo: $35,000Started: May 2014Location: Fowey, Cornwall, UKFounders: 2Employees: 3Hello! Who are you and what business did you start?I’m Nick Griffiths. For 25 years I was a freelance journalist in London; now I run Any Old Lights, selling vintage nautical and industrial lighting, online and from a shop by the sea in Cornwall, UK. You never quite know where life will take you!We’re always on the hunt for quality lighting that’s a little different from the norm. Much of the good stuff is up to 70 years old and supplies are inevitably going to dry up. So we also created our own Revivals brand of lighting. When a light looks like it’s disappearing from circulation, we create our own version, with little twists.Noticeably cheaper than the originals, these Revivals lights are very popular with both domestic and commercial customers on a budget. We also sell higher-end products like our very own Lighthouse, which I dreamed up one evening during a walk along the cliffs near our home.Given Any Old Lights’ strong nautical theme, I couldn’t resist delving into the maritime antiques and curios market - packed with salted history and stunning designs - so we also source and sell anything from vintage ships’ bells to brass engine-order telegraphs. Our vintage ships’ clocks are incredibly popular, especially with American customers.Any Old Lights has won awards along the way and keeps growing in popularity, selling worldwide to anyone from high-street giants and celebrity bars to Middle Eastern hotel groups, turning over last year £250,000.What's your backstory and how did you come up with the idea?I must have written millions of words in my lifetime - for magazines, newspapers and my books - and I loved every minute of it. But kids come along and maybe the city life isn’t ideal for them growing up.So in Summer 2011, my family moved to Cornwall, a delightful and quirky county that takes up the final chunk bottom-left of the map of England, where my wife, Sinead, had grown up. Now the kids have beaches and boats and crabbing. And I had…...To reboot my entire career.I took a course in WordPress web design and started building websites. One was for a fledgling online vintage lighting business, set up by my friend, Patrick. I came up with the name, built the site, and within weeks we had orders coming in. Including one to Hong Kong! We were gobsmacked.Patrick asked if I wanted to become a joint director, and in the absence of any better ideas, I said Yes. I knew nothing about lighting (though I have a degree in Electrical Engineering, I could barely wire a plug), less so vintage lighting. I remember when we opened a pop-up shop during our first winter in business, people coming in, discussing vintage lighting brands, and me nodding sagely (blankly), thinking: I’m going to need to learn a lot of stuff.And I did. That’s the beauty of starting a business - you have to cram knowledge into your aching grey matter, day in, day out. And it’s really exciting. So new and different and initially bewildering. But cracking it is a major buzz.Patrick left Any Old Lights early in 2016 and I gained a new co-director: my wife!These days, I am actually an expert in vintage lighting - a veritable mine of information! Who’d have thought it? Certainly not me.Take us through the process of designing, prototyping, and manufacturing your first product.Aside from our Revivals versions of vintage lights, cast in metals, we’ve also been looking to the future. And that future has to involve acrylics (recyclable) and LED.That future is RetroFutures, by Any Old Lights.These are laser-cut acrylic lights with integrated LED COB (chip-on-board) rings, running off 12V so incredibly economical to run and eco-friendly. Our very first pattern - we call it Cage - was based on the design of a vintage Lemar nautical wall light (from which we’d already removed the wall-arm and added a hook to create a Revivals pendant light).You can see the two side-by-side here.Our Cage has been through numerous iterations during its year in development. Originally it had a hook, same as the original, and a light bulb, and screws holding it together - all gone. Our designer is a local colleague, and we have a profit-share agreement once we start selling, otherwise, the collective expense would have been beyond us.I’ve had custom parts created, having chanced upon an excellent, trustworthy supplier of electronics in China. (That was a major concern - it seems such a lottery given so many options, and I got lucky.) But we’re keen to create the light itself in the UK, and I’ve been getting quotes for acrylic supplies, laser-cutting, assembly and packaging, such that we’re geared for the RetroFutures launch in January 2018.For market research, we took a bunch of prototypes to a major London hospitality industry show in October, on the advice of a mentor, where we listened to experts and were deeply heartened by the positive response. Annoyingly, the timing was all wrong for us as we weren’t ready to supply, so bar gaining contacts we wasted our money.That poor advice aside, we’ve taken advantage of plenty of free mentoring by local business organisations - funded by the European Union and devastatingly already disappearing thanks to the lunatic Brexit vote - who’ve advised on all aspects of our task, from design protection to wholesale pricing.Putting this project together has cost us thousands - we’ll crowdfund our first 100 RF lights to help recoup - stressed me out more than ever before, and we’ve no idea whether it will fly. But I’d far rather try new things than coast along. Watch this space.Describe the process of launching the business.We launched online back in May 2014 - seems like a lifetime ago - with a few vintage ships’ lights sourced from a UK supplier. There was no fanfare.When I went into partnership with Patrick, we put in £9,000 each of our own money, and have never taken out a loan or overdraft since. I feel if you get to that stage, you’re in the wrong business. The banks have zero interest in actually helping small businesses - likewise this government.Come winter 2014 we were offered a pop-up shop in a local coffee shop that closed for the down season. We took it. Who wouldn’t? And it went really well: we sold things and got to meet our customers. It made us realise we needed a retail space.So we moved into a shop-share in a 13th century ground-floor space, where the ceilings were so low I moved like Quasimodo. (One time I was serving a customer and hadn’t realised I’d stood up directly beneath a light shade, which I was effectively wearing as a hat. Oh, the japes.)Come February 2018, we moved again, into a former boutique with tired decor. I ripped off the boarding and found 1920s tiling throughout the shop, which turned out to be a former butchers. Same outside, having scraped off layers of paint. It really fits our vibe and we’ve increased takings year-on-year by some 25 per cent.Going back to the beginnings, then: the key to early success is working hard and learning fast. We made mistakes aplenty and always vowed never to repeat them. Sometimes we succeeded!And be prepared to go with your gut and take risks. Where’s the fun (actual genuine terror) otherwise?Since launch, what has worked to attract and retain customers?Key to our success has been good SEO. I read everything I could about the subject - too often finding conflicting advice - and dived in.Our website uses WordPress with WooCommerce, and the Yoast SEO plugin is a must. I also lashed out around £2000 to hire an SEO specialist; that was a couple of years ago and everything they instigated already seems to be out of date.So I’ve just completed another, current SEO course, which tiresomely calls for a complete site rewrite - can’t be helped. The dividends will be reaped.It’s all about diving into Google: Google My Business, Google Tag Manager, Google Search Console, Google Keyword Planner - all four are imperatives. (He set them up for me, or I’d still be gibbering in a corner, imagining little green men flying overhead.)Did you know that there’s no such thing as “top of Google” any longer? Everyone - including me and you, when we check - sees slightly different ranking dependent upon our search history, location, etc (don’t ask me what the etc is). The only true check of keyword ranking is Google Search Console.So I take my obvious keywords - Vintage Nautical Lighting, Vintage Bulkhead Light… - and run them through Keyword Planner, to find which is the most popular similar term, as well as checking alternatives I can pepper around my text. A blog is a great way of sneaking keywords in on a regular basis. No one reads the things, so be bold. Just don’t cram keywords - it has to read naturally or Google will penalise you.I’ve spent nothing on Facebook ads and precious little on Google Ads, which I’ve always found impenetrable (and Google’s documentation, still more so). However, the recent SEO course tutor suggested it’s very hard for a small business to survive on organic traffic alone - heartening that we have done - so I’m lashing out more on hiring a specialist to help me negotiate the Google Ads maze. So much cash can be wasted on ill-conceived online advertising, the expert hire is a no-brainer, unless you have the time and knowledge to learn yourself.Unfortunately, my demographic missed out on internet teaching at school, so the jargon is pure Greek to me.Obviously, we also maintain Facebook (750 followers), Twitter (1825 followers) and more recently started focussing on Instagram (735 followers), alongside LinkedIn and email lists. Social media is both a blessing and a curse - don’t spread yourself too thinly.Remember Google+? Thought not. In desperation to keep up with the Googleses, I spent hours setting up an account and populating it - only to get one follower (the only other person on Google+). I set up Pinterest, too, and allowed it to lay fallow.Pick your weapons and focus on those: we’re keenest on Facebook and Instagram. But still there are only so many hours in the day and there are few of us.Plus it’s bloody boring. Don’t beat yourself up.We use ActiveCampaign, which has way more flexibility than MailChimp, though it’s paid for. We’d built up decent databases of well over 2000 subscribers, which GDPR helpfully massacred in one afternoon. So we build again.I tried eBay selling, but it’s not right for our quality products - there are too many cheap, inferior imitators - and I’ve looked into Amazon but again worry it’s not a great match, for the same reason. Best sales alternative to the website for us has been Etsy, which suits our quality vintage vibe.How are you doing today and what does the future look like?The fact that we’ve barely used online advertising and its remarketing capabilities, but are now gearing up to do so, surely bodes well, as it can only boost sales.We turned over £250,000 last year, with net gains rising from a £7K loss in our first year of trading to £20K profit last financial year. Over the year the split is roughly 50:50 online vs shop, with the shop doing best in the summer when the tourists are here, and vice versa in the winter when they aren’t.Overheads are a concern in this business, which requires a large warehouse space, as well as our bricks-and-mortar shop and its staff. Launching RetroFutures, coupled with online advertising and the building of our brands, we plan to take us to the next level.Through starting the business, have you learned anything particularly helpful or advantageous?This vintage lighting business is a very traditional business, with heavy physical products that need shipping great distances, as well as the warehousing. It’s been a steep learning curve fraught with overheads and naive errors.Finding trusted suppliers and a decent shipping agent has been key to our success. We’ve been burnt in the past - those madly heavy portholes were supposed to have been stripped and polished, my friend - so we dump the deadwood and keep the gold dust. That’s often trial and error, so we make small sample orders from new suppliers and build slowly.Maintaining stock numbers is a constant quandary. If we have an unexpected run on one pattern, we’re looking six weeks minimum for a restock - production and shipping - and equally, we don’t want unsold stockpiling up in the warehouse.I’d rather go Out of Stock, as customers are often happy with an alternative, though there’s a happy medium. It’s all about identifying your popular items and ordering big, and trimming off the less popular patterns. Identify and maintain the core.What platform/tools do you use for your business?Our website runs on WordPress and WooCommerce, and we also sell online via Etsy. WooCommerce plugins such as WooWaitlist (notifying a customer when you’re back in stock) and Recover Abandoned Cart have been very useful. There are plenty more if you do a little Googling around your specific requirements.ActiveCampaign, I’ve mentioned - you can use it to set up email automation, as well as creating the usual lists and campaigns. Worth a look.And I’ve just started experimenting with the free live chat app, tawk.to, on our website. It’s a little complicated to get your head around, but the support is good and I’m up and running now.We’re a small team, so I worried about replying in time, but it’s working out OK. I’ve definitely made sales that would otherwise have disappeared on the back of it, and customers go away with a positive experience even if we can’t help.What have been the most influential books, podcasts, or other resources?I Google everything. If I’ve a website issue - cut and paste the error message directly into Google.Whatever it is, Google it. Someone, somewhere, will have the answer for you (for free).Advice for other entrepreneurs who want to get started or are just starting out?Learn fast. Find good staff to support you. Ask for help from anyone who knows better than you - don’t be embarrassed.Research local organisations that advise small businesses and use them. Don’t expect miracles; appreciate the small victories. Build slowly. Don’t be afraid to make mistakes - just avoid repeating them.Focus your resources on core areas that you can see are making a difference. Be resilient. And pat yourself on the back every now and again!Where can we go to learn more?Website: https://anyoldlights.co.ukBlog: https://anyoldlights.co.uk/any-old-lights-blogLiked this text interview? Check out the full interview with photos.

RSI Comm-Link: StarWatch: Fundraiser Ruckus

Send Your Tips to StarWatch!

On your mark, get set … woah! What a weekend for the StarWatch team, as yours truly was front and center for what has to be the biggest celebrity scandal of the year. You might’ve heard about the aftermath elsewhere — a broken hand, a delayed blockbuster, a supposedly scratched 600i, and the arrest of a Senator’s son — but no one can drop the delicious details of the exciting events quite like me, Callie C.

That’s right, StarWatchers, there’s no need for tipsters to tell the tale of what went down at Landry Caballero’s star-studded benefit on Saturday night, because I was one of the many A1 attendees at her charity soirée in Prime. Because of my primo access to all that occurred, we’re dedicating today’s entire show to giving you exclusive insight into the events that left the UEE abuzz. But first, let’s set the scene with a little backstory.

Landry Caballero’s fabulous fundraiser was in support of her new charity Life Under Foot, which aims to raise credits “to study and support the sustainability of Tohil III’s living islands.” Landry, the star of such action-packed blockbusters as Fulcrum Force and The Reaper Files, first became obsessed with the the large botanical biomasses that dot the ocean world of Tohil III last year, while vacationing at an ultra-exclusive resort built on one of these “living islands.” According to Landry, the trip to Tohil III was an eye-opener for her in many regards, and was also where she first met her current heartthrob — Croshaw Jumpers’ bad boy Haruto Effinger.

At the fundraiser, Landry and I spoke about her profound passion for Tohil III’s truly unique ecosystem, and the lack of government funding to research its sustainability. Right as she was describing how standing barefoot on the massive, sturdy plants made her feel connected to these incredible organisms, shouts coming from the event’s entrance drew our attention.

It was none other than Rowen Haskel and a cadre of sycophantic friends. There had been much speculation about whether or not Rowen would show up, one of the many reasons I eagerly attended the fundraiser. Lucky for us all, I was right by Landry’s side when the spectacle kicked off.

For those who don’t know, Landry and Rowen have been spec feuding for a while. It all started following last year’s semi-finals match between the Jumpers and the Ferron Lancers when Rowen, who is the youngest son of Ferron Senator Turson Haskel and a part owner of the Lancers, accused Haruto Effinger of cheating during one of the game’s key plays. The allegation didn’t sit well with Landry, who quickly jumped to her boyfriend’s defense, and the two have been publicly bickering with increasing disdain ever since.

The feud turned personal two weeks ago when Rowen lambasted Landry’s upcoming Life Under Foot fundraiser as “shockingly out of touch” and “the perfect charity for those who care more about plants than people.” Rowen even went as far as to urge anyone who was considering supporting Landry’s foundation to instead put that money towards a “real” cause. Then he listed numerous Ferron-based nonprofits that help people in the struggling system.

The war of words between Landry and Rowen culminated in a bet over the outcome of last week’s Jumpers and Lancers game, with the loser promising to make a donation to the charity of the winner’s choosing. When the Jumpers — backed by what I’m told was an incredible performance from Haruto Effinger — won the match, Landry requested that Rowen’s charitable donation obviously go to Life Under Foot. To no one’s surprise, he refused to follow through on the payout.

So, when Rowen crashed the fundraiser, I knew something juicy would occur. I followed Landry and Haruto to where Rowen and his crew, who if I’m being honest all looked pretty lit, were raising a ruckus. Rowen demanded entry, but refused to purchase a ticket. I even heard Rowen say that he “was there to make a real donation and not pay for the event’s food and booze budget.”

Haruto and Rowen exchanged a flurry of words that I dare not repeat with my mother watching. Hey, Mom! Landry, desperate to not have her party turn into the debacle that it clearly already was, tried to get a handle on the sitch. She told Rowen that if he donated to her charity right then and there that she would let them into the event.

Rowen opened his mobi, hit a few buttons and then showed Landry the screen. A smirk spread across his face. He’d donated exactly one credit to the cause.

I have never seen Landry so livid outside of that incredible final fight in Fulcrum Force, when she finally avenges her brother’s death. Haruto even had to hold her back as she screamed for security to escort Rowen and his friends from the event. Meanwhile, Rowen called to the gathering crowd that they were all witnesses to the promise that he’d be let in if he made a donation. It … was … pandemonium.

Finally, event security separated the groups and moved Rowen and his crew toward his shiny new Origin 600i. Landry followed, exchanging words with Rowen the entire time. Right as Rowen got to his ship, he turned back and said something that I couldn’t hear. But, whatever it was, it launched Landry into orbit.

She rushed Rowen and hit him so hard that I saw stars. Guess all the hand-to-hand combat training for her starring roles paid off. The punch sent Rowen reeling backwards. He slammed into his 600i and slumped to the ground.

Rowen’s crew quickly pulled him to his feet. Strangely, Rowen didn’t acknowledge the punch at all. Instead, he inspected his ship and yelled after Landry, who was being rushed away by Haruto, that she would pay for scratching the custom paint job. At this point, security quickly ushered everyone else inside, while Rowen’s 600i lifted off in a hurry.

Now, I was ready and raring to file a report right then and there. I tried tracking down Landry for a comment, but she couldn’t be found. When she also didn’t appear on stage during the fundraiser’s keynote address, I knew something was seriously wrong. So when the word came down that our beautiful brawler had broken her hand, I wasn’t surprised.

Word is that they healed her up right quick, but she still needs to take it easy for the next few days. That’s delayed the filming of a key action scene for her latest vid, Deathwatch. No word on when filming will resume, but from what I hear, the vid’s producers are none too happy about Landry’s actions on many fronts.

News of Landry’s injury is nothing compared to the trouble Rowen now finds himself in. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, I wasn’t present to see his attempt at revenge, but his actions have garnered the most press coming out of this entire event.

After lifting off, Rowen and his crew never left the vicinity. Instead, they apparently stayed and searched the landing pad for Haruto’s Nox. At that point, Rowen’s 600i moved into position over the landing pad, the ship’s door opened and he proceeded to relieve himself onto Haruto’s bike below. Guess we’re seeing an all new downside to flying an open-canopy ship.

What doesn’t this story have, right? All it needs is the arrest of a disgraced public figure and I’ve got celebrity scandal Bingo. Well, thankfully, this is the incident that keeps on giving.

As we all know, hovering over landing pads to target parked ships is a big ol’ no-no. I guess the local air traffic controller was aware of the incident and quickly dispatched the police in case more than recycled booze rained down from Rowen’s 600i. If his ship would’ve blasted off the second Rowen was done, then he probably would’ve gotten away free and clear. Unfortunately, his pilot accidentally engaged the automated landing system. Instead of escaping into atmosphere, Rowen’s 600i came to a rest on the landing pad next to the Nox.

The police arrived on the scene right then and there. According to witnesses, Rowen didn’t even have a chance to make himself decent before the cops swarmed his ship. Ooops!

We need to take a quick commercial break, but when StarWatch returns, crime correspondent Nash Toulouse will join me to discuss the possible legal fallout from this entire event. From the lewd conduct charges to the possibility that Rowen could accuse Landry of assault, Nash will be our brave guide through the legal morass. Don’t go anywhere. StarWatch will be back in a flash!

http://bit.ly/2yY7xVQ

via RSI Comm-Link

Send Your Tips to StarWatch!

On your mark, get set … woah! What a weekend for the StarWatch team, as yours truly was front and center for what has to be the biggest celebrity scandal of the year. You might’ve heard about the aftermath elsewhere — a broken hand, a delayed blockbuster, a supposedly scratched 600i, and the arrest of a Senator’s son — but no one can drop the delicious details of the exciting events quite like me, Callie C.

That’s right, StarWatchers, there’s no need for tipsters to tell the tale of what went down at Landry Caballero’s star-studded benefit on Saturday night, because I was one of the many A1 attendees at her charity soirée in Prime. Because of my primo access to all that occurred, we’re dedicating today’s entire show to giving you exclusive insight into the events that left the UEE abuzz. But first, let’s set the scene with a little backstory.

Landry Caballero’s fabulous fundraiser was in support of her new charity Life Under Foot, which aims to raise credits “to study and support the sustainability of Tohil III’s living islands.” Landry, the star of such action-packed blockbusters as Fulcrum Force and The Reaper Files, first became obsessed with the the large botanical biomasses that dot the ocean world of Tohil III last year, while vacationing at an ultra-exclusive resort built on one of these “living islands.” According to Landry, the trip to Tohil III was an eye-opener for her in many regards, and was also where she first met her current heartthrob — Croshaw Jumpers’ bad boy Haruto Effinger.

At the fundraiser, Landry and I spoke about her profound passion for Tohil III’s truly unique ecosystem, and the lack of government funding to research its sustainability. Right as she was describing how standing barefoot on the massive, sturdy plants made her feel connected to these incredible organisms, shouts coming from the event’s entrance drew our attention.

It was none other than Rowen Haskel and a cadre of sycophantic friends. There had been much speculation about whether or not Rowen would show up, one of the many reasons I eagerly attended the fundraiser. Lucky for us all, I was right by Landry’s side when the spectacle kicked off.

For those who don’t know, Landry and Rowen have been spec feuding for a while. It all started following last year’s semi-finals match between the Jumpers and the Ferron Lancers when Rowen, who is the youngest son of Ferron Senator Turson Haskel and a part owner of the Lancers, accused Haruto Effinger of cheating during one of the game’s key plays. The allegation didn’t sit well with Landry, who quickly jumped to her boyfriend’s defense, and the two have been publicly bickering with increasing disdain ever since.

The feud turned personal two weeks ago when Rowen lambasted Landry’s upcoming Life Under Foot fundraiser as “shockingly out of touch” and “the perfect charity for those who care more about plants than people.” Rowen even went as far as to urge anyone who was considering supporting Landry’s foundation to instead put that money towards a “real” cause. Then he listed numerous Ferron-based nonprofits that help people in the struggling system.

The war of words between Landry and Rowen culminated in a bet over the outcome of last week’s Jumpers and Lancers game, with the loser promising to make a donation to the charity of the winner’s choosing. When the Jumpers — backed by what I’m told was an incredible performance from Haruto Effinger — won the match, Landry requested that Rowen’s charitable donation obviously go to Life Under Foot. To no one’s surprise, he refused to follow through on the payout.

So, when Rowen crashed the fundraiser, I knew something juicy would occur. I followed Landry and Haruto to where Rowen and his crew, who if I’m being honest all looked pretty lit, were raising a ruckus. Rowen demanded entry, but refused to purchase a ticket. I even heard Rowen say that he “was there to make a real donation and not pay for the event’s food and booze budget.”

Haruto and Rowen exchanged a flurry of words that I dare not repeat with my mother watching. Hey, Mom! Landry, desperate to not have her party turn into the debacle that it clearly already was, tried to get a handle on the sitch. She told Rowen that if he donated to her charity right then and there that she would let them into the event.

Rowen opened his mobi, hit a few buttons and then showed Landry the screen. A smirk spread across his face. He’d donated exactly one credit to the cause.

I have never seen Landry so livid outside of that incredible final fight in Fulcrum Force, when she finally avenges her brother’s death. Haruto even had to hold her back as she screamed for security to escort Rowen and his friends from the event. Meanwhile, Rowen called to the gathering crowd that they were all witnesses to the promise that he’d be let in if he made a donation. It … was … pandemonium.

Finally, event security separated the groups and moved Rowen and his crew toward his shiny new Origin 600i. Landry followed, exchanging words with Rowen the entire time. Right as Rowen got to his ship, he turned back and said something that I couldn’t hear. But, whatever it was, it launched Landry into orbit.

She rushed Rowen and hit him so hard that I saw stars. Guess all the hand-to-hand combat training for her starring roles paid off. The punch sent Rowen reeling backwards. He slammed into his 600i and slumped to the ground.

Rowen’s crew quickly pulled him to his feet. Strangely, Rowen didn’t acknowledge the punch at all. Instead, he inspected his ship and yelled after Landry, who was being rushed away by Haruto, that she would pay for scratching the custom paint job. At this point, security quickly ushered everyone else inside, while Rowen’s 600i lifted off in a hurry.

Now, I was ready and raring to file a report right then and there. I tried tracking down Landry for a comment, but she couldn’t be found. When she also didn’t appear on stage during the fundraiser’s keynote address, I knew something was seriously wrong. So when the word came down that our beautiful brawler had broken her hand, I wasn’t surprised.

Word is that they healed her up right quick, but she still needs to take it easy for the next few days. That’s delayed the filming of a key action scene for her latest vid, Deathwatch. No word on when filming will resume, but from what I hear, the vid’s producers are none too happy about Landry’s actions on many fronts.

News of Landry’s injury is nothing compared to the trouble Rowen now finds himself in. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, I wasn’t present to see his attempt at revenge, but his actions have garnered the most press coming out of this entire event.

After lifting off, Rowen and his crew never left the vicinity. Instead, they apparently stayed and searched the landing pad for Haruto’s Nox. At that point, Rowen’s 600i moved into position over the landing pad, the ship’s door opened and he proceeded to relieve himself onto Haruto’s bike below. Guess we’re seeing an all new downside to flying an open-canopy ship.

What doesn’t this story have, right? All it needs is the arrest of a disgraced public figure and I’ve got celebrity scandal Bingo. Well, thankfully, this is the incident that keeps on giving.

As we all know, hovering over landing pads to target parked ships is a big ol’ no-no. I guess the local air traffic controller was aware of the incident and quickly dispatched the police in case more than recycled booze rained down from Rowen’s 600i. If his ship would’ve blasted off the second Rowen was done, then he probably would’ve gotten away free and clear. Unfortunately, his pilot accidentally engaged the automated landing system. Instead of escaping into atmosphere, Rowen’s 600i came to a rest on the landing pad next to the Nox.

The police arrived on the scene right then and there. According to witnesses, Rowen didn’t even have a chance to make himself decent before the cops swarmed his ship. Ooops!

We need to take a quick commercial break, but when StarWatch returns, crime correspondent Nash Toulouse will join me to discuss the possible legal fallout from this entire event. From the lewd conduct charges to the possibility that Rowen could accuse Landry of assault, Nash will be our brave guide through the legal morass. Don’t go anywhere. StarWatch will be back in a flash!

via RSI Comm-Link

Send Your Tips to StarWatch!

On your mark, get set … woah! What a weekend for the StarWatch team, as yours truly was front and center for what has to be the biggest celebrity scandal of the year. You might’ve heard about the aftermath elsewhere — a broken hand, a delayed blockbuster, a supposedly scratched 600i, and the arrest of a Senator’s son — but no one can drop the delicious details of the exciting events quite like me, Callie C.

That’s right, StarWatchers, there’s no need for tipsters to tell the tale of what went down at Landry Caballero’s star-studded benefit on Saturday night, because I was one of the many A1 attendees at her charity soirée in Prime. Because of my primo access to all that occurred, we’re dedicating today’s entire show to giving you exclusive insight into the events that left the UEE abuzz. But first, let’s set the scene with a little backstory.

Landry Caballero’s fabulous fundraiser was in support of her new charity Life Under Foot, which aims to raise credits “to study and support the sustainability of Tohil III’s living islands.” Landry, the star of such action-packed blockbusters as Fulcrum Force and The Reaper Files, first became obsessed with the the large botanical biomasses that dot the ocean world of Tohil III last year, while vacationing at an ultra-exclusive resort built on one of these “living islands.” According to Landry, the trip to Tohil III was an eye-opener for her in many regards, and was also where she first met her current heartthrob — Croshaw Jumpers’ bad boy Haruto Effinger.

At the fundraiser, Landry and I spoke about her profound passion for Tohil III’s truly unique ecosystem, and the lack of government funding to research its sustainability. Right as she was describing how standing barefoot on the massive, sturdy plants made her feel connected to these incredible organisms, shouts coming from the event’s entrance drew our attention.

It was none other than Rowen Haskel and a cadre of sycophantic friends. There had been much speculation about whether or not Rowen would show up, one of the many reasons I eagerly attended the fundraiser. Lucky for us all, I was right by Landry’s side when the spectacle kicked off.

For those who don’t know, Landry and Rowen have been spec feuding for a while. It all started following last year’s semi-finals match between the Jumpers and the Ferron Lancers when Rowen, who is the youngest son of Ferron Senator Turson Haskel and a part owner of the Lancers, accused Haruto Effinger of cheating during one of the game’s key plays. The allegation didn’t sit well with Landry, who quickly jumped to her boyfriend’s defense, and the two have been publicly bickering with increasing disdain ever since.

The feud turned personal two weeks ago when Rowen lambasted Landry’s upcoming Life Under Foot fundraiser as “shockingly out of touch” and “the perfect charity for those who care more about plants than people.” Rowen even went as far as to urge anyone who was considering supporting Landry’s foundation to instead put that money towards a “real” cause. Then he listed numerous Ferron-based nonprofits that help people in the struggling system.

The war of words between Landry and Rowen culminated in a bet over the outcome of last week’s Jumpers and Lancers game, with the loser promising to make a donation to the charity of the winner’s choosing. When the Jumpers — backed by what I’m told was an incredible performance from Haruto Effinger — won the match, Landry requested that Rowen’s charitable donation obviously go to Life Under Foot. To no one’s surprise, he refused to follow through on the payout.

So, when Rowen crashed the fundraiser, I knew something juicy would occur. I followed Landry and Haruto to where Rowen and his crew, who if I’m being honest all looked pretty lit, were raising a ruckus. Rowen demanded entry, but refused to purchase a ticket. I even heard Rowen say that he “was there to make a real donation and not pay for the event’s food and booze budget.”

Haruto and Rowen exchanged a flurry of words that I dare not repeat with my mother watching. Hey, Mom! Landry, desperate to not have her party turn into the debacle that it clearly already was, tried to get a handle on the sitch. She told Rowen that if he donated to her charity right then and there that she would let them into the event.

Rowen opened his mobi, hit a few buttons and then showed Landry the screen. A smirk spread across his face. He’d donated exactly one credit to the cause.

I have never seen Landry so livid outside of that incredible final fight in Fulcrum Force, when she finally avenges her brother’s death. Haruto even had to hold her back as she screamed for security to escort Rowen and his friends from the event. Meanwhile, Rowen called to the gathering crowd that they were all witnesses to the promise that he’d be let in if he made a donation. It … was … pandemonium.

Finally, event security separated the groups and moved Rowen and his crew toward his shiny new Origin 600i. Landry followed, exchanging words with Rowen the entire time. Right as Rowen got to his ship, he turned back and said something that I couldn’t hear. But, whatever it was, it launched Landry into orbit.

She rushed Rowen and hit him so hard that I saw stars. Guess all the hand-to-hand combat training for her starring roles paid off. The punch sent Rowen reeling backwards. He slammed into his 600i and slumped to the ground.

Rowen’s crew quickly pulled him to his feet. Strangely, Rowen didn’t acknowledge the punch at all. Instead, he inspected his ship and yelled after Landry, who was being rushed away by Haruto, that she would pay for scratching the custom paint job. At this point, security quickly ushered everyone else inside, while Rowen’s 600i lifted off in a hurry.

Now, I was ready and raring to file a report right then and there. I tried tracking down Landry for a comment, but she couldn’t be found. When she also didn’t appear on stage during the fundraiser’s keynote address, I knew something was seriously wrong. So when the word came down that our beautiful brawler had broken her hand, I wasn’t surprised.

Word is that they healed her up right quick, but she still needs to take it easy for the next few days. That’s delayed the filming of a key action scene for her latest vid, Deathwatch. No word on when filming will resume, but from what I hear, the vid’s producers are none too happy about Landry’s actions on many fronts.

News of Landry’s injury is nothing compared to the trouble Rowen now finds himself in. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, I wasn’t present to see his attempt at revenge, but his actions have garnered the most press coming out of this entire event.

After lifting off, Rowen and his crew never left the vicinity. Instead, they apparently stayed and searched the landing pad for Haruto’s Nox. At that point, Rowen’s 600i moved into position over the landing pad, the ship’s door opened and he proceeded to relieve himself onto Haruto’s bike below. Guess we’re seeing an all new downside to flying an open-canopy ship.

What doesn’t this story have, right? All it needs is the arrest of a disgraced public figure and I’ve got celebrity scandal Bingo. Well, thankfully, this is the incident that keeps on giving.

As we all know, hovering over landing pads to target parked ships is a big ol’ no-no. I guess the local air traffic controller was aware of the incident and quickly dispatched the police in case more than recycled booze rained down from Rowen’s 600i. If his ship would’ve blasted off the second Rowen was done, then he probably would’ve gotten away free and clear. Unfortunately, his pilot accidentally engaged the automated landing system. Instead of escaping into atmosphere, Rowen’s 600i came to a rest on the landing pad next to the Nox.

The police arrived on the scene right then and there. According to witnesses, Rowen didn’t even have a chance to make himself decent before the cops swarmed his ship. Ooops!

We need to take a quick commercial break, but when StarWatch returns, crime correspondent Nash Toulouse will join me to discuss the possible legal fallout from this entire event. From the lewd conduct charges to the possibility that Rowen could accuse Landry of assault, Nash will be our brave guide through the legal morass. Don’t go anywhere. StarWatch will be back in a flash!