#apparently she is a tea thief | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

keldae · 2 months

Note

8. “If you give me a minute….I think I can make this worse.”

This was officially worse than the djinni incident, in Gale’s humble opinion.

First, he had been left in the camp that morning, when he’d woken up with a headache that wouldn’t abate, even with Shadowheart’s healing touch. He’d been forced to sit by while Devi had ventured out with Wyll, Astarion, and Jaheira – and the fretting about his beloved half-Elf did not ease his headache at all, even with Jaheira’s assurances that she wouldn’t let her “cub” get into too much trouble, despite Bhaalists and a psychotic shapeshifter in the form of Orin running around Baldur’s Gate.

An hour after the four had left, there had been what had to be the far-away, but still distinct sounds of a riot happening – yells, and explosions, and the too-familiar noises of a Steel Watcher mechanically issuing orders. Gale’s gut instincts told him that Devi was somehow involved.

The riot noises eventually subsided, and for a good portion of the day, it had been suspiciously peaceful around the camp. Gale’s headache still wasn’t going away, but after drinking an herbal tea that he’d sent Karlach to go barter for (thank Mystra that the tiefling had gotten the right one), it was almost bearable. He suspected he would be fine to accompany his beloved little thief in the morning on her next venture out into the city.

The Fist patrol stopping by the ramshackle camp was a surprise. The two guards had looked around the site for a minute, tilting their heads at Lae’zel and her impressive weapons collection, and blinking at the large owlbear cub (who Halsin, before his abduction, had named Garmus), and politely nodding at Dame Aylin and Isobel, before taking their leave. Apparently the nautiloid survivors weren’t the only adventurers to make their temporary residence in the run-down alleys of the Lower City – the Fist soldiers didn’t seem perturbed by their presence.

The two Guild members who had popped in about an hour later were another surprise. Gale felt his headache resurge when the dragonborn had asked about “a pretty half-Elf with her hands in everyone’s pockets, and a devil with a sword who looked a lot like a younger Duke Ravengard, and another particularly pale Elf with red eyes, and the older woman who was trying to corral the lot of them”. Eventually accepting that nobody left in the camp knew what the hells their friends had gotten into, the Guild members finally shrugged and walked off.

Then one of Jaheira’s adopted children had meandered in, took one look around for the High Harper, swore under her breath, and left the same way she’d come.

“Something’s gone wrong,” Gale said, fidgeting with his staff and ignoring Shadowheart trying to push him back to his tent. “Gods be damned, I should have gone with them!”

“You weren’t able to so much as sit up without your head trying to kill you until after noon!” Shadowheart retorted. “Sit down, or I’ll stuff a sleeping potion down your throat, Gale.”

Gale gifted the cleric with a scowl, then set to pacing through the camp, disregarding Shadowheart’s threat. “We need to find them. We should have set out when we first heard the pandemonium this morning. If we–”

“Baldur’s Gate’s a big city,” Karlach dubiously pointed out. “You really wanna go meandering down every street and back alley to find them? Jaheira and Devi can both blend into a crowd.”

“Wyll and Astarion both stand out though,” Lae’zel commented. “Unless there are other devils walking around the city with swords on their backs, or Elvish vampires. Surely we can find them.”

“Unless they’ve taken to the sewers again, or the rooftops,” Shadowheart said. She ignored Gale’s groan at the distinct possibility. “And gods help whoever tries to find someone in the sewers. If it were me, and I was being hunted by apparently everyone in the city, that’s where I would go.” She watched Gale pacing back and forth, and sighed. “Scratch, get Gale to sit down, will you?”

Scratch just barked inquisitively at Shadowheart, then trotted over to Isobel for pets.

“That wasn’t helpful,” Shadowheart muttered.

Dame Aylin chuckled, leaning against the wall. “I’m sure they’ll turn up soon – Deviali’s quite the resourceful one. She–” She yelped in surprise as the stones by her feet suddenly started to wriggle. “What the hells!”

A manhole was opened, disguised (for some reason that Gale would never be able to wrap his head around) by the cobblestones. Wyll’s horned head popped out of the opening; the warlock looked around, then grinned and looked back down. “Right one this time!” he called, before scrambling out of the hole. “So… we’ve had a day,” he started to say, brushing off his clothes from gods-only-knew-what. “Do you really want the details?”

“Oh, hell yes!” Karlach crowed, eyes alight with excitement.

Wyll made a face. “All right. So it started with Devi trying – and failing – to pick a Fist’s pocket… again. She got caught, and it was either ‘pick a fight and earn the ire of the entire Fist, plus a Steel Watcher’, or ‘run’, so we decided to run – or rather, she decided to run, and the three of us got roped in with her since the Fist’s companions had seen us together earlier.”

“Was that the riot noises we heard?” Isobel asked, tilting her head.

“I’m getting there.” Wyll sighed. “So, Devi decided to pick an escape route that took us through a crowd of people in a bazaar, and naturally the Fist gave chase. Here’s where it gets bad – my horns may have caught a low-hanging sign on a building as I was running and knocked it down, but it was attached with a clothesline to another building’s facade and brought it down in the middle of the crowd.”

That got winces from everyone listening. “Anyone hurt?” Shadowheart asked.

“Probably, but we didn’t have time to stop and check,” Wyll answered. “We somehow escaped some of the notice, but some of the civilians noticed the Fist and the Steel Watcher, and blamed them. Half of them started shouting at the soldiers, and the other half was trying to catch us. It was chaos.”

“So that was the sound of the riot…” Lae’zel murmured. “We wondered what that was.”

“If you give me a minute, I think I can make this story worse,” Wyll dryly said.

Gale stared at the warlock, his brain pounding in his skull. “It gets worse? Worse than the four of you being chased by the Fist and half of the Lower City?”

Wyll just winced and nodded. “Devi’s fine,” he quickly assured the wizard. “... Relatively speaking.”

Gale felt his eye twitch. “What do you mean, ‘relatively speaking’?”

“I’m getting there, Gale, keep your robes on. Where was I?” Wyll thought for a moment. “Ah, yes. So, we were running, and Devi ducked down an alley to throw off pursuit. There was an open manhole in the alley, so naturally the four of us dived down it.”

“Even Astarion?” Karlach asked with a laugh.

“Even Astarion,” Wyll confirmed. “We got down the ladder and started down the corridor we were in, until we came around a corner and found a group of Bhaalist cultists having some sort of a meeting. I’m not sure which of our groups was more startled – them, or us. But, you know Bhaalists – the weapons were coming out, no matter how Devi tried to talk us out of it.”

Gale sat down on a bench and started rubbing his temples. “How bad was it?”

“Surprisingly not that bad, all things considered. But, I do think I have to kill Mizora for fucking with my magic,” Wyll muttered. “It wouldn’t surprise me if she had done that, just to mess with me.”

“That’s a demon for you,” Dame Aylin said with a sage nod. “... What did you do?”

Wyll sighed, then took a subtle step away from Gale. “So, I was casting a spell, and was aiming at one of the cultists, but my spell went completely sideways… literally.” He gave Gale a sidelong look. “Devi… may or may not have gotten hit by it.”

Gale was back on his feet in a heartbeat, staff in his hands. “What?”

“It was an accident!” Wyll cried out. “And in the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t that bad a spell–”

Before he quite realised he was moving, Gale was in Wyll’s face and staring the other man down, his headache increased by his freshly-renewed bad mood. “What. Spell?”

“... Polymorph,” Wyll sheepishly said. “At least it wasn’t the eldritch blast?”

“Just what the hells did you polymorph her into?” Gale demanded.

Wyll just looked down at the manhole as another pair of gloved hands suddenly emerged. Jaheira clambered out of the manhole, grumbling under her breath and with a fiercely-wriggling satchel on her hip. Devi and Astarion, Gale noted with no small amount of dread, were nowhere to be seen. The High Harper looked at Wyll and smirked. “Ah, so you survived telling our resident wizard what you did to his beloved?”

“It was an accident, I swear!” Wyll said, quickly looking back at Gale. “If it’s any consolation, apparently it was a two-for-one cast – Astarion got hit with the polymorph as well.”

“And turned into what?” Shadowheart asked, coming up behind Gale with a curious look in her eyes.

In answer, Jaheira reached into her satchel and started fishing around. “Ow!” she exclaimed, glaring at the satchel and its contents before extracting both hands from the bag. In each hand, she held a writhing, angry kitten by the scruff of its neck – one coppery-red with green eyes, and one with bright white fur.

“... You polymorphed them into cats?” Gale demanded as Karlach collapsed with a howl of laughter.

“If it’s any consolation, I intended on polymorphing the cultist I was targeting into a sheep–” Wyll started to say.

“That is not consolation!” Gale reached out for the coppery kitten; Jaheira was only too willing to hand the cat over. The kitten, who had to be Devi to go by the fur and eye colour, stared at Gale as he held her at arm’s length and meowed plaintively at him. “Oh, my love,” Gale sighed, “what the hells happened to you?”

“Don’t listen to her complaining about the satchel,” Jaheira growled. “She and Astarion both got distracted with trying to chase a rat down there, and it fell to me to wrangle them into the bag!”

“There was also the Guild member we came across, who Astarion bit on the ankle before Jaheira could catch him, and I fell through a weak wall while chasing Devi and wound up in someone’s basement, so we had to run again while the homeowner was chasing us, and then there were the very angry githyanki loyalists who were coming after us for a spell, not to mention a couple more Fist soldiers when we accidentally came up through the wrong manholes…” Wyll trailed off as Gale glared at him. “... But, we made it back to camp safe and sound! And now if you’ll excuse me, I have a demon to summon so I can tell her off.”

Gale watched the younger man step away (probably making good his escape from the wizard’s wrath), then looked at the kitten in his hands and sighed. “What am I going to do with you, Devi?” he asked. “I suppose I should be grateful Wyll didn’t turn you into a mouse or a pigeon.”

The kitten meowed at him again; Gale shook his head, then drew the small animal up to his chest. Devi promptly used the opportunity to scale his robes with sharp little claws, earning winces from the wizard until she had reached his shoulder. She gave the wizard a headbutt, then meowed in his ear before curling up in a ball, precariously balanced on him. Gale sighed again, then watched as Jaheira handed a loudly-complaining Astarion-as-a-cat off to Shadowheart. “How long ago was that fight with the cultists, and the spell?” he asked.

Jaheira eyed the sun’s position in the sky contemplatively. “I would think about three hours ago?”

Gale froze. “... Polymorph spells don’t usually last longer than one hour!”

“I’m aware, Gale. I’m going with Wyll’s theory that his broken contract with Mizora is having an effect on his spells. We can be worried if they haven’t transformed back by the morning.” Jaheira shook her head and went back to examining the scratches in the leather of her gloves, left by tiny feline claws. “I should have something in my house about reversing a long-term-effect polymorph, but it will be a little difficult for me to get there with the Fist actively looking for us. I can try tomorrow, when the chase grows cold.”

Gale pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling his headache merrily pounding through his brain, then glanced over as he heard a noisy purr from his shoulder. “Oh, I’m glad you’re comfortable,” he dryly said to the kitten that had been his lover only that morning.

Devi mewed at him, then got back on her paws, carefully balancing on Gale’s shoulder as she started grooming his beard with a rough little tongue. Gale sighed, looking skyward. “Just how much of this are you going to remember when you eventually transform back?” he asked. “You did remember being a cheese. Then again, shapeshifters tend to adopt the instincts of whatever they have shifted into, and a cheese doesn’t really have any sort of an instinct…”

“Polymorphing is just strange,” Karlach said as she came up to Gale, eyeing Devi-the-cat, then looking over as Shadowheart tried to hand Astarion off to Lae’zel, who wanted nothing to do with the vampire cat. The tiefling was still grinning from ear to ear as she addressed Devi. “How about it? Are you gonna remember grooming your other half when we eventually get you back into a half-Elf?”

Devi meowed and went back to her task of grooming Gale’s beard.

Karlach laughed as Gale softly groaned. “It is kind of hilarious, Gale – and Devi makes a very cute kitten.” She glanced over at Lae’zel and Shadowheart. “Astarion would make a cute cat, if he wasn’t trying to scratch everyone’s eyes out,” she added, her voice raised enough to make herself pointedly clear.

Astarion just growled, loudly enough for Gale and Karlach to hear him ten paces away, even over the sounds of Wyll having a loud argument with Mizora by his tent. The white cat’s ire just got a snicker from Karlach before she reached to pet Devi’s back. “Y’know, from how you climb roofs so easily and how quiet you move, I always wondered if you were part cat, somewhere in your heritage.”

Gale blinked at the tiefling. “You think she has tabaxi heritage, besides the human and Elven blood?”

Karlach shrugged. “Maybe that, or one of her ancestors was a druid whose preferred wild form was a cat of some sort?”

“... It’s not the most unlikely idea I’ve ever heard,” Gale finally admitted. His eyes flicked down to the kitten on his shoulder. “Unfortunately, we’ll never know the truth of the matter–” He yelped as Devi batted at his earring, earning a snort from Karlach, then reached up for the cat. “All right, I have my boundaries, darling. The earring is off-limits, even for you.”

Devi meowed in protest as Gale brought her back down to his arms.

“No, I don’t care if you don’t like it,” Gale informed the kitten. “You are not allowed to play with my earring – it’s bad enough that I was tolerating you grooming me!” He sighed and gave Devi a rub behind her pointed ears, earning a purr. “All I need is for Tara to appear now and accuse me of replacing her with a younger, cuter feline companion.”

“She a jealous type of tressym?” Karlach asked with a laugh.

“Is there any other type?” Gale dryly asked, and got another snort from the tiefling. The wizard sighed and shook his head. “And I thought my headache this morning was terrible enough. I think it’s on its way to becoming a migraine.”

“Go rest in your tent – Devi might behave for you, since you’re her favourite person.” Karlach set her hands on Gale’s shoulders and gave him a gentle push to the tents. “I’ll help the others try to corral Astarion. Maybe if we put him on a leash…”

Gale paused, pursing his lips. “... My headache isn’t so bad that I can’t conjure up a leash for him,” he finally said. He pointedly ignored the feeling of Astarion’s feline glare on him as he waved his hand, and a leash appeared out of thin air. “Behold, my contribution to keeping Astarion from running off. And now, I’m going to go and take a nap.”

“Sweet dreams!” Karlach laughed as she collected the leash and made her way up to Shadowheart and Lae’zel, and the cat they were struggling to restrain. “You know, if you were less of an escape artist, we wouldn’t have to resort to these drastic measures, Astarion…”

Ruefully chuckling, Gale shook his head, then made his way back to his tent, depositing Devi on his bedroll before magically securing the tent flap, and any other avenue of escape the cat could make use of. “The longer you behave, the better your odds of not getting your own leash,” he informed the cat.

Devi meowed, then as Gale laid down, started grooming his hair.

Gale sighed. “I give up. You’re just going to groom me, no matter what I say, hmm?” He rested his head on the pillow, feeling as Devi licked his hair a few more times, then curled up beside his head and started purring. He reached up to give her pets, and felt the purring grow louder. “Thank you for choosing me as your favourite person, my love,” he chuckled, closing his eyes, letting himself drift off to sleep with his lover-as-a-cat beside him.

—

The evening mealtime did not see the two rogues returned to their biped forms. Gale poked at the fish on his plate, watching Devi, who was alternating her time between sitting at his side, waiting for another bite of his meal, and scampering around the campsite, never out of Gale’s field of vision. The wizard suspected she was intentionally flaunting her freedoms in front of Astarion, who was on the end of the leash secured under Lae’zel’s foot and making sure everyone knew he was not happy about it.

“It’s your own fault you’re on the leash, you know,” Wyll informed Astarion, munching on a roll. “If you hadn’t tried to climb up a building to escape…”

“I think putting all the fault on Astarion may not be warranted,” Gale muttered. “Contrary though he may be on the best of days.”

Wyll sighed. “It was an accident! And I said I was sorry for accidentally polymorphing both of them into cats!”

“And Gale will continue to be grouchy until the spell wears off and he has his woman back,” Karlach pointed out with a snicker. “Where is Devi, anyway?”

Gale looked around, then nodded with his head as Garmus the owlbear cub came lumbering up to the fire, Devi perched on his head like a proud knight. Scratch trotted beside the pair, tongue lolling out happily. “She probably won’t go far,” he said. “I’m here, and I have food – and I threatened her with her own leash if she didn’t behave.”

“Smart,” Jaheira said. “And coming from you, the cub – er, kitten – probably won’t push that argument too much.” She smirked. “Partially because she loves you, and partially because she knows you’ll follow through with it.”

A little smirk on his lips, Gale broke off a piece of hard cheese, then lowered his hand. “Psspsspssp,” he said, then sighed as Scratch scampered over first. “No, not you, Scratch.”

Scratch whined at Gale and set a heavy chin on his knee, looking up at him with big, soulful brown eyes.

Gale sighed again, then fed Scratch the cheese before breaking off another piece. “Devi!” he called. “Come here, before Scratch eats everything for you off of my plate.”

Devi meowed, then jumped off Garmus’ head and raced over to Gale, her tail standing straight up behind her. She leaped up onto the bench beside the wizard, then took the cheese from his fingers, happily eating it.

“That’s my girl,” Gale murmured approvingly, petting Devi’s back and hearing her purr. He handed her a piece of fish next, which she devoured. “Karlach was right, you know. You do make a cute kitten.”

With a mew, Devi finished her piece of fish, then climbed onto Gale’s lap.

“Although I’ll still be much happier when you’re a person again.” Gale ruefully chuckled, rubbing behind Devi’s ears as he lifted his plate safely out of range of both the cat and Scratch. “Veni et iuva me,” he muttered, and a Mage Hand appeared to rescue the plate, freeing both his hands to pet Devi. “Honestly, how do you and Astarion have such poor luck with being polymorphed? First the cheese, now the cats… in less than a tenday!”

“At least this time, neither of them is at risk of being eaten?” Shadowheart asked. She looked down at Astarion as he headbutted her leg. “You had your chance to get pets, and you tried to bite my hand. No pets for you.”

Astarion loudly meowed his protest.

Shadowheart sighed, then broke off another piece of her fish and fed it to the vampire cat. “I will say, we didn’t need to feed either of them when they were cheese.”

“Yes, but it's generally frowned upon to pet a wheel of cheese,” Wyll commented. “And they're cuter as cats than as food.”

“Technically,” Lae’zel pointed out, “they could be food if one was desperate enough…”

Gale frowned and tugged Devi a little closer to his chest. “Don't worry, my love,” he said to the cat. “I won't let anyone try to eat you.”

Devi purred, pushing her head into Gale's hands for more pets; the wizard obliged her willingly. “We appear to have gotten both extremes of cats; the snuggly cat who adores pets, and the standoffish cat who is a little too free with the claws,” he mused.

Astarion meowed at Gale, sounding more than a little put-out.

“Am I wrong?” Gale retorted. “Your own bad behaviour is why you're leashed now!”

Devi meowed, then jumped off Gale's lap and pounced on Astarion. The vampire cat irritably yowled and retaliated against Devi's attack, quickly getting tangled up in his leash.

Gale sighed, watching the two cats tussle. “... I really shouldn't just sit here and watch,” he said. “If I were a responsible sort of wizard, I would separate them.”

“But it would be hilarious if they transformed back right now,” Karlach pointed out with a grin. “Awww, Astarion is still bitey even as a cat!”

“Hopefully not for the same reason as his biting as a person,” Shadowheart said. She set down her plate, then took a deep breath and dove her hands into the fray, emerging with Devi held by the scruff of her neck. “Was picking a fight with Astarion really necessary?” she scolded.

Devi meowed, a definite note of annoyance in her tone, and waved her paws at Shadowheart's face.

“You can go attack Wyll's feet if you want to fight something,” Shadowheart said, standing up long enough to plop the cat back on Gale's lap. “Astarion, don't provoke Devi – she's almost as bitey as you.”

“Please don't attack my feet,” Wyll muttered. “For the hundredth time, I didn't mean to turn either of you into cats! I wasn't even aiming at you!”

“What did Mizora have to say?” Isobel curiously asked.

Wyll scowled. “She just laughed and said that she lives for the entertainment value I provide her. We can't count on her for assistance.”

Gale sighed, then tightened his hold on Devi when she tried to jump back at Astarion. “No, leave him alone!” he said, feeling his nagging headache pound at his skull again. “Deviali…”

Devi hissed at the mention of her despised full name.

“Oh, I'm so glad you understood that,” Gale said, lifting the cat to his eye level and sternly looking at her. “The leash is still a valid threat if you don't behave.”

The cat in his hands meowed, then started to purr.

“It's a very good thing you're cute,” Gale murmured, drawing the cat back to his chest. He winced as he felt Devi start climbing up his robes again; a second later, he felt a little paw batting at his earring. “Hey!” he scolded, pulling Devi away from his piercing again. “What did I say about the earring?”

Devi just stared at him and meowed.

“Touch the earring again, and I swear, I'll conjure up a second leash for you,” Gale threatened. He set Devi back on his lap, distracting her with another piece of fish while he kept a firm hand on her back, lest she try to climb up his body again. “What am I going to do with you if you don't transform back, love?”

“Present her to your tressym as tribute?” Lae’zel asked with a smirk.

“Very funny. Tara will not be amused.” Gale sighed, then frowned as he sensed the Weave crackling around him. “What–”

There were two flashes of light and a chorus of surprised exclamations. Gale jumped as he found himself rather abruptly with a lap full of Devi, laying on her stomach over his legs, his hand still on her ass. Astarion rematerialised by Lae’zel's feet, and promptly started clawing at the leash. “Get this thing off me!” he demanded. “Leashing is not my kink!”

“No? A pity.” Lae’zel smirked as she undid the leash, ignoring Karlach's laugh. “But I'm sure you do have other carnal enjoyments, yes?”

“Not after being leashed like an animal, I don't!” Astarion retorted, rubbing his neck and glaring at Gale.

“I hate to break it to you, but you were an animal a minute ago,” Gale pointed out. He looked down as Devi scrambled back up to a sitting position beside him. “Welcome back, darling. Are you all right?”

“I… think so?” Devi shook her head and wrinkled her nose. “My memory is… fuzzy.”

“As fuzzy as you were just now?” Wyll cheerfully asked.

Devi frowned at the warlock. “Excuse me, but I am not ‘fuzzy’!” She tilted her head as his grin got wider. “I feel like I should be mad at you for something. I remember being very small, and being picked up and handed around…”

“So you don't remember being a cat?” Jaheira asked. “Complete with scratching my hands up, and trying to make Wyll lose his other eye?”

“That was Astarion that had a go at my eye,” Wyll interjected, with a scowl at the vampire.

“A cat?” Devi blinked. “How the hells did I get turned into a cat?”

“Wyll happened. We're partially blaming Mizora.” Gale shook his head and wrapped an arm around Devi's shoulders. “You do make an adorable cat though… even if a bratty one.”

“... Thank you, I think?” Devi looked up at Gale, then leaned into his side, her eyes leaving his. Gale watched her for a moment, then saw her hand start to slowly rise to his ear, her eyes never leaving what they had focused on.

Instinct had him swat her hand back down just as her fingertips reached his earring. “Stop trying to play with my earring!” he scolded.

“I'm sorry! I just… feel compelled! It's so shiny!”

Gale sighed heavily as laughter echoed around them. “Your body might be a person again, but your mind is still that of a cat. Please don't pounce on Astarion again.”

“No promises,” Devi said. She looked around at everyone snickering (except Astarion, who had moved up from the ground to the bench and was trying to straighten his clothes, all while looking thoroughly miffed), then back at Gale, a moment before she put her legs across his lap and snuggled against him. “Don't mind me. I'm very cuddly tonight.”

Shaking his head, Gale slipped his arm down her back to hold her closer. “As long as you leave my earring alone and don't try to groom me again–”

“Wait. What do you mean, ‘groom’ you?” Devi demanded. “As in, with my tongue, and…” She saw Gale's smirk and slow nod, at the same time that Karlach fell off her bench laughing, and squeaked, burying her face in the wizard's shoulder to blush. “Oh, hells.”

“Didn't know you were into that!” Karlach laughed. “Or that Gale’s apparently into leashes–!”

“I am not into leashes!” Gale retorted. “It was strictly a means to keep our cats corralled!”

“Well, if we hear noises from Gale's tent tonight, we know what methods of carnal pleasure he and Devi are playing with,” Lae’zel said with a grin. “Is ‘kitten’ not a pet name used by some human lovers anyway?”

Gale groaned as laughter resurged around camp. He shot Wyll a glare. “This is entirely your fault.”

“I thought we agreed Mizora was to blame!” Wyll protested.

“It was still your spell!” Gale sighed and gave Devi a squeeze. “Love, as a personal kindness to me, please don't get polymorphed into anything else. The cheese and the cat have been quite enough.”

“Again – no promises. Technically this wasn't my fault… I don't think.” Devi winked, then leaned against his shoulder and made a little noise of frustration. When Gale looked closely, she was peering at his earring again, seemingly fighting the urge to play with the jewellery.

“Don't even think about it,” the wizard warned. “Or I swear, I will tie you up–” He glared at Lae’zel and Karlach as they burst into laughter. “Not that way, either!”

“... Promises, promises,” Devi said with a grin that promised misbehaviour later.

Gale sighed again, looking skyward. How was this his life now?

#bg3 #bg3 fic #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #deviali #act 3 spoilers #polymorphing gone wrong #humour #friendship #cats #in which Gale is proven to be a Cat Guy #kink jokes are made

38 notes · View notes

callmearcturus · 4 months

Text

Arc Plays Games: Nora to Toki no Koubou: Kiri no Mori no Majo (NDS)

(apparently in English that's something like "Nora the Time Witch")

I'm gonna try something and try to keep track of all the games I play this year. First up is this extremely cute little that honestly got me through being sick as hell over the holiday. It is kind of perfect as a game for your brain at 40%.

Nora is a DS game that has better "Cozy" feel than most games under the cozy game genre. Basically, Nora (the character) is a chronomancer, so she can do time magic. She's a rookie so she's supposed to be learning how to get good at chronomancy. She's sent to a lil cottage in the woods to bone up on her skills.

The house and garden are extremely precious. You can redecorate the cottage, move furniture and crafting items around, change the walls and floor. The garden has friends and you can lure in cute creatures.

The main loop of the game is in three parts. First is making items to fulfill requests for townsfolk and friends. You'll be asked to make a certain item, and have to figure out the best way to do so with time magic, dismantling raw materials, and processing materials into new stuff. You start off with just a work table and the time magic thingie, then get more and more crafting options like sewing tables and smokers and stuff.

Then you turn in those items and get other items in return and make people happy!

There's also foraging, bc obviously you need materials to make stuff.

There's a whole map with multiple places to go and each of those locations has different materials to gather.

When you arrive at a location, there are interactable things that will give you different materials. Some are sparkly and also give you random effects, like increased rarity, more items, or monsters.

You might want to grab the sparklies first to try and booth the number of materials you get, but on the other hand you might find a monster instead.

Battles are the third pillar. There are a SHOCKING amount of party members, and you can pick and choose teams depending on what you want.

Want to make sure you survive really tough monsters? Go with the errant knight lady and the big friendly city watch guy. Want to get more materials? Go with the soft-spoken clinic worker who can spot more herbs of the 12 year old shop girl who fucking LOVES rocks and can find you more rocks. But the clinic girl isn't great in a fight, so you gotta be careful.

Party members include: a weird mercenary dude who just wants to be the cool knight lady, the buff city watch man who has tea parties and tries to kill monsters with stale bread, the clinic lady who secretly can deadlift a tree, aforementioned 12 year old who thinks rocks are just soooooo cool, the hot knight lady who i think has the hots for Nora but i'm not sure, a Capitalist, a thief who kinda sucks, and a mascot character.

I weirdly ADORE the economy/shop system in this game.

Sometimes when you are selling off old equipment or excess materials, the shopowner will counteroffer your request for money with rare items instead.

YOU CAN DO THIS TOO. Most of the stock in the shops can be bought outright OR you can choose "Buy with items" and offer up stuff in exchange for the item you want.

Shops have normal stock but also special stock you can only get by trading the right materials. The armory guy has swords and stuff BUT if you want the good shit, bring him a dragon scale instead.

I bounce off a lot of these kind of soft, cute games because they don't feel like they have depth but this game sooooo does. I would say the only downside is when you struggle to make a certain items or find a certain material, you... sometimes just gotta figure it out, because this game was an oddball Japanese-only Atlus title and the fan translation isn't super well-known, there isn't a robust wiki to refer you. Just figure it out!

Anyway, solid fucking 4 out of 5 on this game. If you can emulate DS games, you can locate this one pretty easily if you know where to look. (And if you don't know where to look, send me an ask off-anon and I will direct you a bit.)

gd i maybe need to try an atelier game...........

#arc plays games

25 notes · View notes

just-eyris-things · 5 days

Text

I've been tagged by @the-elven-star and @archesa, thank you guys!

-- B A S I C S

name: Eyris

nicknames: Ris, Rissie,

age: she's 27 this year! she started personal story as 15yo

birthday: May 29th :)

race: sylvari

gender: female (she/her)

orientation: pansexual

profession: Aurene's champion.

-- P H Y S I C A L A S P E C T S

hair: a mix of dark blue, blue, green and purple

eyes: blue

skin: green

tattoos/scars: scar on the right side of the face, a scar wrapping around her waist (thanks Balthazar).

-- F A M I L Y

parents: The Pale Tree

siblings: Caithe and Canach.

grandparents: Mordremoth, I guess?

in laws and others: Trahearne is like this weird cousin to her. She considers Airell family too, but it's hard to give them a role. It's not really sibling-like relationship, but "sibling" is the closest term to it i guess?

pets: Airost the fern hound (old boy's retired :) ), Aiari the jackal (they parted ways in the middle of LWs4), currently there's [Name] the skyscale (I'm working on that)

-- S K I L L S

abilities:

Ranger: her core profession

Thief: Eyris was Caithe's student, so she has some thief skills

Soulbeast: Eyris is able to channel the power of an allied creature

Dragon Champion: Eyris is able to summon/create crystaline arrows

hobbies: travelling, animal care, drawing, fishing

-- T R A I T S

most positive trait: honestly, i dont know. i drew a blank so hard I had to talk to my friend. apparently she's good at thinking on her feet so...let's go with that

most negative trait: stubborn, selfish

-- L I K E S

colors: blue, teal, sea-green

smells: forest after a heavy rain, fried fish, cocoa/hot chocolate, old books/scrolls

textures: soft fur, silk, soft sand underneath her feet at a beach, wet animal nose, tree bark, smooth stuff

drinks: strong ale, cocoa, tea, mulled wine, carrot juice, aloe juice

-- O T H E R D E T A I L S

smokes: sometimes, socially

drinks: yes, but as long as the time is right.

drugs: she was offered a few times to try, she did, she didnt like it, so nope

been arrested: way too many times.

alright, im gonna tag... @i-mybrunettelady @the-tired-commander @charico @mystery-salad @ascalonianpicnic @moonlit-grove :)

#eyris

13 notes · View notes

sullustangin · 2 months

Text

Fluffy February Day 25: Kiss

SWTOR

Time: KotFE, vaguely

Words: 753

Good morning kisses were an interesting concept, for Theron.

Master Zho referred to him as his son and hugged him, regularly. Good morning kisses were not part of that dynamic.

When he was a child at Coronet City Military Academy, his caretakers did not give that sort of affection to him. It was not appropriate.

When he lived on Coruscant, on his own, Theron typically didn’t let his partner stay overnight. He had too many contacts that would call at odd hours and too much high-security technology in his apartment… he didn’t want someone stumbling across it or having a high-priority emergency that a civilian should not see.

Theron typically left their place before morning came. He had to get back to his apartment and make sure he did not miss anything. He’d leave a note or order them caf and breakfast that would be delivered to their place whenever they woke up. He wouldn’t be there.

There were exceptions, but good morning kisses were few and far between for him. He didn’t think he was into them anyway. Attachments, and all that.

Life on Odessen was a real change.

Theron learned he was wrong about himself, in a few areas.

Because Theron did sleep over regularly – almost constantly – on Virtue’s Thief. And Eva was running on her own automated chrono. She’d wake up, kiss him (awake or not), set the caf to percolate, then crawl back into bed with him. When he finally did stir awake, she’d beg, borrow, and steal kisses off him at every opportunity.

And he really, really liked that.

Even when he really did just sleep over. Even when sex wasn’t the purpose or motivator or the excuse for spending the night.

The casual affection – freely given, when in private.

The small weight of touches.

Of cups of tea or caf served in silence.

The way their limbs brushed against each other in bed as they settled in for the night.

And then the buss in the morning, drifted over a cheekbone lazily on a slow day…

… or hastily left at the corner of the mouth because someone had overslept and needed to get to the opposite side of the base, a.s.a.p., so they wouldn’t look suspicious, coming from the same direction.

Initially, Theron always tried to wake before dawn and sneak back to his room. That wasn’t about leaving Eva; that was avoiding the rest of the base sorting out they were a couple.

He failed. A lot. He didn’t know what was wrong with him. He was used to less than five hours of sleep a night; the implants made him hyperaware, and if he ate enough calories, he could power through. That’s the way it always had been.

…until he had to leave someone he didn’t want to, in order to get back to work. Until he had to leave someone he didn’t need to, because she understood his job. Always had, more so now that they were working together.

And Eva caught him. A lot. So many years living on starship meant that every noise out of the ordinary on Virute’s Thief was a cause to stir and wake up. That included his feet touching down on the floor and his belt rattling. …and when she did catch him, she was very, very persuasive.

It wasn’t always sex. Sometimes, she just asked him not to leave her.

…then he couldn’t do it.

A convenient fiction was created: the Captain met Theron Shan, operations manager, for caf every morning. Bright and early. It was partially for Theron’s sudden ineptitude at leaving his lover before good morning kisses… but it was also for Eva’s own slowness in the morning. The carbonite and the lingering neuropathy slowed her down.

…but even after that resolved, Theron and Eva maintained the schedule. They didn’t need to. They wanted to.

And Theron, for his part, wanted his fair share of good morning kisses. He apparently was owed a backlog, according to Eva. She had done the math, on some boring day that Theron had put himself on mission. He’d arrived home to Odessen, then snuck aboard her ship only to find elaborate charts with ratios indicating all the things he had missed out on for five years…

And a schedule to rectify the insufficiencies.

On the milder end of her regiment was the good morning kisses quota.

Theron absolutely loved that.

Theron loved Eva. Eva loved Theron. It was mutual. So were the good morning kisses, given and received.

#fluffy february #swtor fan fiction #theron shan #theron shan x smuggler #oc: eva corolastor

14 notes · View notes

moriartyluver · 8 months

Text

FALSE LOVERS CHAPTER XXI

'THE SECRET DOCUMENT stolen from the palace..if the world were to know of it..our vision of this country's future..this is almost the biggest threat since (name) (last name) set foot in England..' The Queen thought to herself, gazing up at a painting of the deceased George III. 'Liberty, equality, fraternity..our chances of attaining these ideals will forever be lost!! The sacrifices of our people must never amount to nothing..!'

"That's right. I gave Fred some work this morning," Albert told the couple sat opposite him as he placed his teacup down

"Fred?" William repeatedly curiously

"Yes, the director forced another problem onto me." Albert explained.

(Name) sighed and leaned back against the seat "that's so typical of him..glad I never accepted his offer to work at MI6."

Albert turned to his sister in law with a chuckle "I keep forgetting you're acquainted with Director Holmes. He's never explicitly told me of how you two first encountered but from the way he speaks of you, he sees you as a problem child of some sort."

William nodded in agreement "you haven't told me..us..either. It's very vague either side."

"We've not spoken much since the first few times I met him. I'm not very fond of him though.. I believe the dislike isn't unrequited. He still is keeping an eye on me to this day, just not so much since the first time he tried. I ended up attacking his spies," (name) smiled as she remembered the incident. "He hasn't much of a reason to still keep watch of me, but I suppose he thinks the moment he takes his eyes off of me, I'll set fire to Buckingham palace again."

"Again..?"

(Name) brushed William off and continued " Still..It appears you're enjoying yourself, Albert."

Albert smiled softly "Heh..is that how it looks?"

"What kind of problem was it?" William asked, referring back to Albert's original statement.

"The order itself it to merely look for a thief..I still haven't heard the whole story, but apparently the spoils are something that could shake the whole country..." Albert trailed off.

(Name) had instantly realised what her brother in law was talking about and unfortunately was drinking her tea. She was about to laugh, but instead choked on her warm beverage, causing her to cough as tears welled in her eyes. William instantly patted her back, holding her close as he helped her regain her composure while scolding her for not being careful.

When she was finally able to speak again, Albert spoke up with a subtle smirk "I take it you know what was taken?"

"Wow..Mycroft really screwed up again..I wonder who our thief is.." (name) spoke between laughs "I hope I do no seem impertinent ,but is the Prince of wales perhaps, involved?"

Albert nodded, a smile gracing his features.

"So predictable.." (name) hummed. "Please do continue, Albert."

"Right..It seems I will need your wisdom to aide me in this. I'm counting on you two." He told the couple. (Name) wasn't usually willing to help with anything to do with MI6, but the whole ordeal seemed much too intriguing to her. It had been a while since she actively participated in the blackmailing game, she couldn't wait to find out who was on the other end of this incident.

"Of course. After all, your first criminal request started everything." William smiled

The brunette turned to his youngest adopted brother. "Louis , I'm counting on you too."

"Yes, brother."

"For the same goal, we share our past, present and future, because we are.." Albert said, the nostalgia enveloping him like a warm blanket which he shared with his found family. "The Moriarty family."

"William?"

(Name) could see the man standing in the reflection of her vanity mirror, applying red lipstick onto her lips carefully. He smiled and waved, walking past the doorway and into (name)'s bedroom where she sat on a soft little chair by her vanity, covered in various perfumes and makeup products, along with the occasional necklace half falling off of the side of the wooden table.

She was to get ready for a ball at one of the Royal Palaces which she would go to with her brother in law, Albert to meet Irene Adler for the first time. (Name) was quite a fan of her work as an actress and had liked her even more upon hearing what she had stolen. Going to balls together would be a regular occurrence for the two. It was their form of family bonding, if you will. William would usually be too busy to escort (name), who was busy herself but her social status made attending parties a requirement whether she wished to or not. Albert would always go with her in his stead, and they had never had a dull moment.

The dress she was wearing, which she had tailored at one of the finest modistes in London, was a beautiful dark red, pearls and other gems covering the fabric. The black lace had been placed just right and quite frankly, she really enjoyed the dress and felt happy wearing it. Even the corset didn't feel that restricting. William looked at her reflection with a soft expression, placing his hand on her bare shoulders.

"You do remember what we've planned with Brother Albert, don't you, love?" He asked, leaning closer to whisper into her ear. (Name) laughed as she felt William's breath tickle against her ear, swatting him away with a smile.

"Of course I do. Poisoning a man is not difficult to me, I've done it multiple times." She said, putting her lipstick away and then reaching over to her necklace. A string of pearls with a ruby in an intricate metal casing at its centre. As she took it in her hands, her husband looked at it curiously, eyes softening in realisation.

"You kept it?" He asked, taking the necklace in his own hands and clasping it around (name)'s neck.

"Kept what..?" She paused for a moment and then realised what he was referring to.

When William was still trying to convince (name) to join the Moriarty team, he had sent her multiple gifts alongside his letters. This particular necklace was a gift he gave her coincidentally on her birthday. (Name) was quite fond of it and kept it, along with William's other gifts, but hadn't worn it until now.

"Oh...! No..I mean, I did keep it, of course I did, it's on my neck now..but I didn't keep it for any particular reason..I just liked the appearance of it. And besides, it wouldn't be very good of me to throw away such an expensive gift. That would be unfair and ungrateful." She said in defence. William smiled, arranging the necklace so it sat perfectly on her skin and looked in the mirror in front of them.

"It's beautiful.." (name) murmured softly, looking at her reflection and playing with the pearls.

William nodded in agreement, looking at (name) through the mirror. "Undeniably perfect.."

"We have been expecting you, my lord, my lady." The butler said as he greeted both Albert and (name), who Albert held out his hand for, as they stepped out of the Moriarty carriage. "Many barons and viscounts are participating tonight, as such we truly appreciate your presence."

"There's no need.." Albert spoke

(Name) nodded from behind her mask "It is a masquerade ball, after all. Social status shouldn't matter whatsoever."

"Louis!" Albert called out to his brother "Be sure to give William my regards."

Louis looked at Albert, understanding his implications "I will.."

As the two both entered the ballroom, (name) was stopped by her dear friend, Lady Sinclair, who she hadn't seen in a while.

"(Name)!" She whispered at the entrance to not attract too much attention from the others. (Name) took in her appearance, her blond curls tied in an undo with feathers to match her pink and gold masquerade mask "I must say you look absolutely gorgeous, as usual. How have you been?"

"Thank you, you look really beautiful too, Bella. The feathers you adorn really compliment your eyes." (Name) smiled "I've been well..still looking for a suitor, I assume?"

"Well..I have been keeping an eye on a few young noblemen. My parents have been nagging me to get married," Arabella put a hand to her cheek as they registered themselves "The truth is, I think I may be incredibly picky.."

"You honour us with your presence, my ladies." A man spoke to the pair "I would kindly ask you to not refer to anybody as their name tonight. Tonight, our entertainment is a mystery game suggested by the Prince of Wales."

"A mystery game? How exciting!" Lady arabella exclaimed as she clapped her hands together

"I believe the previous ball had the detective Sherlock Holmes as its subject. The Prince of wales is quite aware of the current societal talk." (Name) commented "Let me guess, this time, it shall be about the infamous lord of crime?"

"You are correct my lady, such wit!" He bowed to (name) then proceeded to explain the game to the two young ladies. "It is rumoured that the lord of crimes is involved in over half of London's criminal activity. The rule of this game is to find the lord of crimes. One of our guests has taken this role and shall perform crimes against other guests, through spilling wine on them. Those who fall victim are considered dead and must relocate after revealing their identity. The victims, of course, will not be allowed to rejoin the ball and they must relinquish one of their most prized possessions as a donation to the construction of a new university. The lord of crimes must be discovered and will die, revealing his identity and then the game shall be over."

Lady Sinclair frowned and whispered to (name) as they continued inside. "I brought my favourite hair pin with me today, I'd hate to give it up. Papa had it shipped from overseas!"

"In that case, I shall have this fake Lord of Crimes killed, for your sake, dear Bella." (Name) laughed. "I heard there was a guest from Bohemia here today..perhaps he will be of your taste. Oh, we must come up with code names for one another!"

(Name) already knew the guest from Bohemia was in fact Ms Irene Adler. She had come along with Albert to both approach this mysterious woman, and to also have a certain baron killed. But it never would hurt to socialise with a good friend. From what she knew, the lady was staying with the detective Sherlock Holmes and had made it public knowledge, meaning their side had to initiate negotiation

"Hm..you can be Juliette?"

"Juliette?" (Name) repeated, taking a wine glass

"Yes. Juliette Montague." Arabella said with a smile "You certainly look the part. Fortunately, it seems you've already found your Romeo."

"My cat...?" (Name) seemed a little confused for a moment.

"No, not Romeo junior. I mean Lord William, of course. How have the two of you been faring? I've heard some gossip in regards to the two of you but I will forever believe that you're a match made in heaven." The blonde woman explained, then scanned the room around them, almost maliciously.

"Ah..we've been doing well, despite all the rumours that say otherwise. This necklace I'm wearing was a gift from dear William." (Name) said as she gestured to the necklace. "Gossip is only natural when the nobility is bored."

Arabella nodded, she looked a bit upset on (name)'s behalf. "I understand you have heard some of these rumours then. I've tried to find who is responsible but it seems to be a collection of both noblewomen who object to a foreigner, please forgive me, marrying a man like William and then the noblemen of high status believing they would be a better fit for you." She sighed "honestly, there are more pressing matters. Have you noticed that Lord Albert, although charming, seems to have no interest in marriage?"

(Name) chuckled as her friend instantly switched from serious back to her gossiping personality. "He does have a lot to work on as of late, don't tell me he's one of the men you've been keeping an eye on?"

Arabella pouted jokingly. "Well he was..you wouldn't mind setting us up would you, Juliette? Perhaps I can become your sister in law!"

"I'm afraid I can't guarantee Albert would accept, but I will try my best." (Name) laughed nervously then had a thought for a name to call her friend. "How about cherry?"

"For my code name?"

"Yes. Your dress is a beautiful pink that prompts one to think of equally beautiful spring cherry blossoms. You could use blossom too, but cherry can be interchangeable with Cherie, a french term of endearment that I'm sure you're aware of"

"Oh but of course! (Name)— I mean, Juliette! You really are a genius! No wonder you're the first female professor this country has ever seen!" Arabella smiled excitedly as she hugged (name)

(Name) coughed as she returned the hug "Cherry, please quiet down, I wouldn't be surprised if you managed to unmask me before the crime lord.." she whispered with a gentle laugh.

The music had soon changed once most of the guests had gathered, the ball room was full of dancing pairs. Around the two, they could see several women being offered dances, and eventually, one gentleman had approached Arabella to take her hand and have her swoon over his romantic compliments whereas (name) heard a voice call out to her from behind without being alone for long.

"Excuse me, my lady," He spoke. (Name) spun around to see a man with black hair and a handsome face, covered partly by his intricate mask. "I couldn't help but be drawn to your elegance and sophistication even from the other side of the ballroom. Would you do me the honour of dancing with you?"

The man's voice sounded foreign, an American accent which he had attempted to cover with another less distinct one.

(Name) smiled, flattered by the compliment. "I would be delighted, my lord." She said, placing her gloved hand in his own which he took eagerly.

The gentleman guided (name) onto the dance floor, full of other aristocrats dancing together, uncaring of their partner's identities or statuses. It was somewhat wholesome , but there were always bigger issues than a daughter of a Earl marrying a baron or what not.

“How lovely it is to dance in the grandeur of this ballroom..” He was clearly attempting to start conversation, spinning her once as he trailed off.

(Name) nodded with a polite smile, ignoring the bothered feeling at the back of her mind. “Indeed it is. His highness has quite the eye..”

“Do you frequent events like this often?” The stranger asked, prompting (name) to speak.

The (hair colour)-ette shook her head as the stranger put a hand on her shoulder, there feet moving in rhythm “Unfortunately as of late, I haven’t had the time. I take it you’re only staying in London temporarily?” She deduced.

The man’s blue eyes widened for a moment “Ah..yes. How did you know?”

(Name) smirked slightly “Well your accent is quiet telling. Forgive me for breaking the unspoken rules of masquerade balls, but I couldn’t help but wonder. You’re coming from mainland Europe, are you not?”

“Ah, it appears my identity is on the line. Pray tell, my lady, what should I call you?” The stranger smiled. “I do hope once you figure out who I am, you’ll meet me again.”

Another spin “My good friend had earlier given me the name of Juliette, inspired by my attire of course.”

“I must admit, you wear it quiet elegantly. It suits you greatly, Juliette.” He said, looking up and down (name)’s figure. “Perhaps I will have the honour of calling myself your Romeo tonight?”

(Name) chuckled as the song slowly came to an end, and most dance pairs had already parted “Unfortunately I must deny you that request. I am already quiet taken by my darling husband..” she leaned forwards, her voice now but a whisper. “…thank you for the offer though, Lord Albrecht.” She pulled away with an innocent smile, a habit she had acquired since her youth, and said her goodbyes, as per the etiquette.

‘How did she..?’

“May I have your attention Ladies and Gentleman!” A voice spoke over the large crowd of noblemen and women. “As you all know, we will be holding a mystery game tonight…with the “Lord of Crimes” already hiding among us, who has just chosen his first victim!!”

The crowd of nobles gasped in amusement and curiosity as the man stood at the front continued. (Name) had already known who this fake lord of crime was. Having a frivolous uncle came in handy when it came to organisation for social events.

“The first victim has been marked with the ‘sign’ of a wine stain! The guest with a wine stain on their person will now be considered ‘dead’!”

‘Quite the enthusiastic tone for discussing death and murder..’ (name) thought ‘and that’s coming from someone with a list of crimes on their criminal record that could possibly fill short novel’

“Please confirm yourself and those next to you for the ‘sign’ !”

“A wine stain?”

“There’s nothing on me..”

(Name) was confident she hadn’t been splashed with wine, but still checked just to make sure. The whispers of nobles continued until finally, a familiar voice spoke up amongst the crowd to declare themselves dead.

“It would appear that I am the killers first victim!” Albert said, putting his mask away as he walked up front.

‘Of course Albert would have himself killed first..’

“What? Lord Moriarty!”

“Who would dare stain Lord Moriarty’s clothes with wine..?!”

“My name is Albert James Moriarty, and it appears, that I have been struck.” Albert spoke, taking a ring off his finger “Would this ring suffice for the donation..?”

He placed the ring down “thank you for your generosity, my lord.”

As Albert headed upstairs, following the previously established rules, the crowd stripped in applause, clapping for the Earl whilst some ladies mourned the loss of such a handsome man.

“Excuse me!” A hand raised itself up from near the front of the crowd “it appears I have also been ‘struck’ by the lord of crimes.”

(Name) squinted from afar, realising that was the man she had danced with earlier. He was even more handiness without the mask, causing him to draw the attention of a few noblewomen

“Two victims at once?! I say! Please come to the stairs my lord!”

He nodded and put away his mask, revealing his identity to the ton. “My name is Loewenich Albrecht. I have come from Bohemia as per invitation of the royal family.” He said “Would this pocket watch suffice as a donation?”

Squeals could be heard from the other noble ladies as he walked off. The crowd soon dispersed as Albert gave (name) a signal before speaking to Ms Adler.

Once the guests had returned to their previous actions, lady Sinclair approached (name) with a gushing expression

“Was that not the man you were dancing with? I caught a glimpse of you two earlier. I think he’s taken a fancy to you, too bad he has Lord William to compete with,” she explained as they helped themselves to the refreshments. “It seems you have this magnet for attractive men, oh how lucky you are!”

(Name) smiled softly “Have your efforts not been in vain? You did get asked to dance, didn’t you?”

Arabella frowned “That gentleman said he was already betrothed to another woman. I really am unlucky..”

“Come now, Cherry. The perfect man shall soon sweep you off your feet, just you wait!” (Name) encouraged wi tho a determined smile.

The conversation had continued until (name) had overheard a couple of voices besides them talking about her. A man sat on one of the sofas beside them speaking to another man who was stood up. They were quiet far away though, so their faces weren’t reconisable.

“Have you seen lady (last name)?” The one stood up asked

(Name) and Arabella both turned their attention to the pair, curious as to what they were saying.

The other shook his head “No..I don’t see why you’d be interested in her. You’ve heard the rumours surely? They’ve been more rampant than ever recently.”

If (name) didn’t know any better, she’d say the little sunken feeling in her stomach was insecurity of some sort. She shook the negative thoughts off.

‘Gossip is only natural..’

“Well, the fact that she may be infertile isn’t that reliable. She’s only been married two years. My guess is that that husband of hers just hasn’t bedded her.” His acquaintance said as he took a sip of wine “that’s probably why he let her work at that university, Durham, was it? Anyways, if I was married to that little siren, she’d be with child by now and being a mother at home”

‘Seriously…I’ve not been attending many social events for the past month and all of a sudden, I hear all these ridiculous rumours about me…where could they have come from..?’ (Name) was too busy trying to trace where these rumours were coming from that she hadn’t notice her friend’s usually cheerful visage shift into one of anger and outrage

“The nerve of them! They speak so freely only because they feel guarded by their stupid, and rather ugly may I add, masks! Well, if they are to speak without pretences, perhaps I should give them a piece of my mind—“ The blond was about to march over to the noblemen by was stopped by (name), who gently held her arm, pulling her back

‘Men are bigger gossips than women..’ (name) sighed

“Don’t waste your time on the likes of them, Cherry.” (Name) said sternly “Men like them run their mouths because they can’t thing of anything interesting about themselves to say. You’re right though, they only feel like they can say such things because they’re guarded by masks…let’s not allow them to cause our identities to be revealed..” she put a finger to her lips and smiled as lady Sinclair smiled back reluctantly, still giving foul looks to the men from earlier.

Arabella sighed and whispered “You mustn’t let people say such things. Although you’re able to defend yourself, you never really raise your voice at anyone who treats you badly…Switch those subtle remarks for outright insults that aren’t fuelled by anger on behalf of others, please?” She pleaded. It was now (name)’s turn to sigh

“I’ll take a closer look at them. You go handsome gentleman shopping, dear cherry.” She patted her friend’s shoulder and walked to where the annoying sounds of speaking were coming from.

Upon closer inspection, she had noticed that the gentleman sitting down was none other than her target for that night. She quickly slipped something into her glass of wine, a substance to aid her in her endeavours.

“Forgive me for my impertinence, my lords, but could you perhaps be referring to lady (name), would you?” She asked with a smile, masking her malicious intent, taking a sip from her wine, then placing it down next to the target’s.

(Name) was usually quite recognisable due to her appearance as a foreigner, but in this masquerade party, she would be able to guard her identity for a few minutes before she was found.

“Indeed we were, my lady,” the man stood up said “would you perhaps know where she may be located, I wish to use my natural charms and have her swoon for me. I hear she was on the guest list tonight but maybe that husband of hers is keeping her back again..”

“Gah..she’s really not even that worthy as a wife. I have no idea why all you young noblemen chase after her so much..she’s just a foreigner.”

(Name) observed with a frown as they conversed “Precisely why we all adore her so. They say women from (home country) are best when it comes to—“

“This is quite the inappropriate topic of conversation in the presence of an impressionable young lady,” (name) interrupted, her words dripping with disgust. She took her target’s wine glass from the small table, leaving her poisoned one behind for him to take. “Especially if this young lady just so happens to be from (home country).”

The men looked at her for a moment, then realised who they were facing before them. (Name) glared at them both and turned to leave, placing the targets old glass on a tray, then returning to Arabella as they continued their conversation until..

“Our Lord of Crimes had struck his third victim!”

Whispers had returned as everyone crowded near the stairs. (Name) turned to her friend, checking her for stains and then was checked herself for a wine stain. Arabella gave her the all clear for a moment then her eyes widened.

“Oh Juliette! I hand realised but you were struck..!” She whispered, clearly upset “Your gown has a wine stain..my apologies..the stain blended in with the fabric..”

(Name) smiled and assured her friend it was all fine. “Do not grieve on my behalf, cherry. You’ll have more time to hunt for gentlemen now.” She whispered back, then took off her mask, raising her voice. “It seems I am the third victim.” She spoke aloud as she walked towards the staircase, taking off her pearl earrings to be handed over for the donation.

“Oh poor lady (name)! That gown looks so expensive!”

“I heard she had it made for quite the hefty sum at that new modiste’s.”

She handed the earrings over then turned to the crowd. “My name is Lady (Name) (last name)-Moriarty, and I have unfortunately been stuck by the Lord of crimes.” She turned to the man beside her, who thanked her for her generosity, prompting her to walk off as the crowd of nobles clapped.

“Let’s give lady (last name) a round of applause!”

“It would be quite the scandal for the British empire..” (name) heard Albert say. She instantly knew what he was referring to as she inserted herself into the he conversation, a frown on her face.

“Is this about the stolen document, Albert?” She asked. The rumours seemed to still be bothering her slightly no matter how much she tried to ignore it or brush it off

“Ah, (name), how kind of you to join us, it seems you’ve already met Ms Irene Adler over here,” he said, gesturing to the gentleman she had previously danced with.

(Name) smiled to Irene “I must say, your disguise is quite convincing. If I had not known any better, I really would have mistaken you for that Bohemian.” She said, leaning against the railing.

“It seems you knew everything about me, my lady.”

She nodded then turned to Albert. “We should be showing Ms Adler a demonstration of our capabilities now, shouldn’t we, dear brother in law?”

Adler looked surprised, and confused as she muttered a ‘huh..?’ out. (Name) gestured to the lower floor, explaining their little plot.

“Look there, you see that man with the white mask?” She asked rhetorically as the others looked down at him. “That is Baron Ronald Lawrinson. He’s our little lord of crime chosen as tonight’s main character for our entertainment.”

“How did you find out..?” Adler whispers in confusion. This was all quite overwhelming.

“We both have involvement with the organisation of tonight’s ball,” Albert explained. “But that’s besides the point. That man behind the mask had sponsored many theatres in France and America, but he is also known for his cruel and selfish nature. Five years ago, he set fire to one of his opera houses for the insurance money. Many people died but he couldn’t care less. I’m assuming you know about this incident, don’t you, Ms Adler?”

Adler turned to the pair in surprise “Yes..! I know about that fire..some of my friends were hurt and killed! It was terrible! You’re saying he’s responsible?!”

“Yes.. I’m saying..if Baron Lawrinson we’re to disappear, the world would be a better place..” albert spoke ominously

“Wha—?”

‘Disappear..?!”

(Name) peaked over Albert’s shoulder as he looked at his pocket watch. “It’s time. Watch closely.”

Adler’s attention was drawn to the bottom floor where the baron was being held by the shoulders by a few noblemen, his face unmasked and a sickly pale.

“Ladies and gentlemen! The lord of crimes has been caught!” The host announced “Right in the act!”

“It worked right as planned..” (name) muttered as she peered over the banister. Adler gave her a concerned look then returned her attention back to the sickly baron.

“Baron Ronald Lawrinson was kind enough to take on the role of the lord of crime for today’s entertainment! A round of applause for his generosity please!” Both albert and (name) looked down at him sinisterly. “And with that, the lord of crimes had taken his final breath! England is safe once more! Victory is ours!”

Although (name) couldn’t hear what was happening down below, she could vaguely see that the poison was working as planned and the baron had begun to grow weary, ready to die any moment now.

He keeled over with a groan, clasping a hand to his chest and then fell and died while the nobles watched, calling for help, doctors, etcetera although none of that could save an already dead man. Besides, (name) had made sure the poison was an uncommon on with a rare antidote. There was no saving him.

“Lord Moriarty..? Lady (last name)..? Was this your doing?” Adler uttered in disbelief, a cold sweat breaking out.

“I had him poisoned earlier when I approached him. Swapping drinks seemed to do the trick…” (name) explained, not realising that Adler was more surprised at the death and not the method.

A bead of sweat rolled down her forehead “I could’ve sworn I saw you take a sip of your wine before you placed it down though..”

“Aw, how adorable..you were still watching me after our encounter, hm?” (Name) cooed jokingly. “I’m immune, please worry not”

“Did you like the performance Ms Alder? I must say, Baron Lawrinson has played a phenomenal role..Lord Enders and Lord Drebber played their lead roles in our plays quite well as well.” Albert took a sip of wine as Adler’s eyes widened further

“What the..?—“

“And so, another vile nobleman has received his punishment…” he said with a swish of his wine. “Indeed..everything you just witnessed was the work of us, the Lord of crimes..!”

A/N: act three is finally here!! I wonder what’s gonna happened next chapter 👀 anyways fl girlbossed a little too close to the sun this time around but whatever. Also fun fact, when I first wrote this before the rework, James Bond was gonna be a love interest but obviously that’s changed dw. Just added it here bc I thought it would be a good reference to the og.

#—false lovers 💋#moriarty the patriot #william james moriarty #william moriarty #william moriarty x reader #yuukoku no moriarty #mtp william #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #moriarty the patriot x reader

30 notes · View notes

coraliix · 1 month

Text

North Wind | Lloyd x OC

Chapter 6: Respite

9.64k words

Summary: Mari starts school and grows closer with her new friends. She later meets the green ninja.

A/N: Hey all, so sorry for the delay in posting this chapter — I couldn't get some parts of it right, and even now I still don't like how a few scenes turned out.

Regardless, I hope you enjoy!

(Side note: there is a bit of swearing in this chapter, more so than in the previous ones. It'll probably stay at this level the rest of the fic, with nothing too vulgar.)

——————————

The door bell chimed as someone came into the tea shop. “Welcome,” I greeted as they stepped further into the store. They gave me a polite smile and passed where I stood at the counter, striding over to look at the shelves displaying bags of tea.

Idly, I set about reorganizing the cash register, sorting through the bills and coins my last customer had given me.

It had been almost four weeks since I’d come to Ninjago City, and life was going well. I was settling in with Skylor nicely. I’d even gotten a job — with Skylor’s help.

Apparently, Skylor had an acquaintance that owned Steeper Wisdom, the tea shop I’d entered that first day I came to the city. (With my own bit of research, I learned that it belonged to Ronin — a “former” thief whose work I’d sort of admired, at least in my more naive beginnings of crime.) Somehow, she’d convinced him to offer me a job.

“Skylor, that’s incredible! I mean— how did you do this?” I asked. “I haven’t— I’m probably not the best choice for a new hire.” It was true. I’d never been hired anywhere else and didn’t have much of any work experience as a result.

She smiled at me, crossing her arms with a nonchalant shrug. She simply responded saying, “I have good connections.”

“Connections? You’re not involved with any gangs, are you?” I joked with a wry smile, nudging her with an elbow. When the words slipped out, I paused, unsure why I’d made a joke like that.

Skylor seemed to share the same surprise, red eyebrows raising slightly, but she smiled and laughed a bit. “No. My friends just have trust in me, and by extension, you,” she replied, giving me a warm smile.

I smiled a little at the recent memory, gratitude for my friend rushing through me like warmth emanating from a fireplace.

Once the customer had finished perusing the aisles and paid, I went back to sorting the money. Idly, I wondered if I’d ever meet Ronin. Despite owning this business, I hadn't ever seen the man around the shop. Since Skylor had pulled strings to get me hired, I hadn't seen him for any kind of interview before working, though I doubted he did that kind of stuff anyway.

Then again, people said not to meet your heroes (though I hardly considered him a “hero.”)

The shop didn't have much activity, but I surmised that it usually didn't. Its traditional look left it looking slightly out of place in the growing modern city that surrounded it, even with its bright neon lights.

It didn't seem like the type of place a thief would own. Another hour passed with little to do, but I wasn’t complaining. Soon after I closed the shop, I made my way to Skylor’s apartment.

She wasn’t there when I unlocked the door and slipped inside, but a text she’d sent me a few minutes ago explained that she’d get home a bit later than usual. My reply had been a simple text acknowledging hers.

Skylor had also told me she was bringing back some food from the restaurant for our dinner, so I set out to look over my things for school one last time, taking advantage of the time to change into comfortable loungewear as well.

Anxiety and apprehension pooled in my stomach at the thought of my first day tomorrow, but I comforted myself with the fact that no one here would know who I was. Over a few weeks of chatting with him, I’d learned Lloyd also went to Ninjago High School, along with his friend Nya. His other friends had graduated either last year or the year before, he’d told me.

A small smile rose on my face at the thought of having at least one friend at school. Not that I would’ve minded being on my own again, but it would be nice to know at least one person — someone who didn't know who my uncle was.

The soft patter of rain against the windows brought my attention to the sky, which had darkened slightly. This day was cooler than it’d been this past week, and the rain would no doubt stave off the evening’s lingering heat.

Unbidden and unwanted, the sound of Skylor’s footsteps down the hall drifted into my ears, carried along by the whispers that trailed after me more often as of late. I wasn’t sure why.

It was similar to when the whispers had first awakened all those years ago. When I hadn't been able to control them.

Choosing to ignore what that could mean, I stepped out of my room and grabbed a few blankets from a closet, setting them on the couch and turning the TV on with a flick of the remote. Me and Skylor decided to have one last relaxed evening together before I’d start school — and in her words, “Start getting stressed and burnt out.”

I flopped onto the couch, looking behind me at the click of the door unlocking and meeting Skylor’s slightly surprised face with a smile. “Good timing,” I remarked.

She huffed in amusement, kicking off her shoes and striding over to lay the boxes on the coffee table. “You have a knack for that,” she said, walking away to quickly slip into more comfortable clothes. She didn’t know the half of it.

Once she joined me on the couch, we settled on a comedy and started digging into our food. The movie was good enough, earning a few chuckles from us and coaxing out a laugh here and there.

An hour into the second movie we put on, I felt my eyelids droop. The soft patter of rain hitting the windows and the quiet scene currently playing wasn’t helping me stay awake, but I wasn’t falling asleep just yet. A glance over at Skylor revealed that she was half-asleep, draped over the couch arm and snoring lightly. I nudged her with my foot. “Wanna turn in?”

Skylor rubbed at her eyes, squinting at the screen. “Sure.” She yawned, sitting up and grasping around for the remote. Once she found it, she flicked off the TV, reclining with an exhale as her eyes drifted shut.

I flung the blanket off of my legs before I could be lured into sleep and sat up, joints popping in my spine and neck when I stretched my arms out. I looked back at Skylor, who was starting to doze off again. With a small chuckle, I gently shook her arm.

“Your back will regret sleeping on the couch in the morning,” I warned her, voice groggy with fatigue. “Especially in that position.”

A low grumble was all I got in response. But after a moment, Skylor sat up with a groan, rubbing at her eyes again. “Yeah, yeah,” she muttered to me, wrapping the blanket around herself burrito-style even as she got up. “Night, Mar,” she called over her shoulder, stalking to her room.

The nickname jolted me awake, its familiarity sending a shock to my core.

Hideo had called me that. The abbreviation of an already short name had made me laugh to myself whenever he’d said it.

Pathetic, that small, hateful voice inside my head said. You’re still shaken up by him?

“Night,” I heard myself say in a small voice, though it was too late for Skylor to hear, judging by her closed door. I stood in the living room for a while, jaw clenched and eyes burning. Eventually, I trudged into my room, pulled back the sheets and got into bed. My limbs were stiff as I did so.

Why can’t you just forget it happened? Are you so weak that it still affects you, weeks later?

I forced those thoughts out of my head, along with the ones about him. It wasn’t worth dwelling on. Nothing could change what he did or the fact that I was alone now. The sooner I accepted it and moved on, the better off I’d be.

Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and forced my tense muscles to relax. Seconds passed, then minutes, then what felt like hours. I blinked, eyes open and sleepless.

Sleep evaded me. I chased it to no avail; the luring lull of rest escaped my grasp.

Resigning myself to not getting any sleep tonight, I rolled onto my back and stared up at the ceiling. I didn’t know how long I spent like that, eyes blank while I fought to keep my mind from drifting to earlier thoughts.

In the end, I did fall asleep, but I wished I hadn’t.

Waves lapped gently at our ankles, feet wading back and forth in the water and sending ripples through the lake. We sat on the edge of a small dock, pants rolled up to our shins so we wouldn’t get wet. It was a silly precaution, seeing as our hair and shirts were already soaked from splashing each other a few minutes ago.

The moment was quiet. Silent, but comfortable. We didn’t say anything. We didn’t have to.

This day had been a quiet excursion on our own, away from our uncle’s watchful eye. He’d been busy finalizing some sort of deal in Ignacia — it didn’t matter to us. Whatever time we could get away from him, we took.

The small lake near our house had been our favorite spot to go together when me and Hideo wanted to escape reality in the three years after our parents’ deaths. We hadn’t been back here for months.

I could feel that Hideo wanted to say something. Although comfortable, the air was thick with apprehension and unspoken understanding.

By this point, it’d been a month since my uncle started my training. I turned fourteen a few months ago, but my young age didn’t matter to him — I would still be subjected to following his orders and enduring his harsh preparation.

Hideo knew this, of course, but the specific details were kept from him.

I didn’t mind that aspect of this ordeal. I’d rather my brother didn’t know about what I’d have to do under our uncle’s tutelage.

“Mar,” Hideo started saying. “I don’t want to go back.”

I knew what where he meant. Back to the house in the city. Back to our uncle. I felt the same, but I knew we didn’t have much choice. That didn’t stop me from feeling bitter about it, though.

“I know, Deo,” I said. There wasn’t much else I could say.

“Can’t we do something?” His voice was small and quiet.

I turned to look at him, noting the worried crease in his brow. A frown settled on my face at the sight. My brother didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve to feel scared, or guilty about what our uncle was doing or the plans he had for me.

Not for the first time, I cursed the universe for taking our parents from us, for condemning us to a life controlled by a man who wanted nothing more than power.

In that moment, I made a promise — not just to myself, but to my brother, too. “Hideo, look at me,” I said, turning my body to face him fully. Once he lifted his head to meet my eyes, I continued. “He can force me to train and work for him, but I’ll never let him hurt you. I’ll take care of us.”

My tone was firm and unwavering as I made the vow. Hideo’s eyes shined with dampness, a singular tear sliding down his cheek. Silently, I reached out to wrap him in an embrace. He sunk into my arms, pressing his face into the crook of my neck.

A fierce sense of protectiveness came over me then, and I resolved that I’d do anything — everything — to get us out of my uncle’s grasp.

With a gasp, I jolted awake. My muscles were tense, breaths coming in hard and body damp with sweat. It felt like I’d just finished running a marathon with the way my heart raced.

It was silent in the room; the only sound filling the space was my labored breathing and a muffled noise through the wall that told me Skylor was waking too. I bit back the choked gasps that made their way through my throat, forcing deep breaths through my nose.

Distantly, I noticed the stiffness of my cheeks and the bit of water that leaked from the corners of my eyes.

Getting up was difficult, to say the least. I concentrated on getting my breaths back to normal and trying to keep my thoughts from going back and dwelling on the memory I dreamt. Burying the dream away into the back of my mind seemed a good solution. After a few minutes, I slowly rose out of bed. Checking the time on my phone revealed it was 7:23 a.m.

Any bit of exhaustion evaporated — at least for now — as I bolted into movement. Great. First day and I’m already running late.

Even with all my preparation from the past few days, I rushed to get dressed, brush my teeth, and eat. Skylor was already eating in the kitchen when I came barrelling in, her pace considerably calmer than mine.

“Wake up late?” She raised a quizzical brow, taking another sip of her coffee.

A grunt was all I said in response, too busy stuffing food into my mouth to answer her properly. “Can’t believe it,” I huffed through mouthfuls.

Skylor chuckled, no doubt amused by the sight of me rushing around like a maniac. She glanced out the window, looking down with raised eyebrows. “Bus is coming.”

I cursed under my breath, downing the rest of the coffee I’d poured myself. Striding over to where Skylor sat at the small table, I gave her a quick side-hug and slung my bag over my shoulder. “See you later,” I said over a shoulder.

“Have a good first day!” she called out to me. I sent her a quick wave in thanks and I closed the door.

Hearing the screech of tires pull to a stop, I had to rush down the steps to get to the bus, which was already starting to pull away from the apartment entrance. An apologetic glance to the driver and I hastily slid into an empty seat.

My cheeks burned at the exertion and the slight embarrassment, and I sank further into the seat, turning to look out the window as we pulled away from the apartment.

——————————

The ride to school was short — around 10 minutes. It didn’t take long to get there, and once we did, students poured out of the bus. I hesitated near the steps to go inside.

A while ago, I met with the principal to get myself scheduled in time before classes began. He’d told me a student would show me around on the first day a few minutes before classes started, but what if I was too late? How long was “a few minutes”? What if they weren't here —

“Hey, you’re Mari, right?” A voice pulled me out of my brief panic, and I turned around to see a girl with short black hair pulled up into a ponytail.

I took a calming breath before I spoke, offering a polite smile. “Yeah, I am. Are you the guide?”

She nodded. “That’s me. I’m Nya,” she introduced herself, extending her hand with a friendly grin.

The name stuck out to me for a reason I couldn’t understand before I remembered that she must’ve been Lloyd’s friend, the Nya he’d mentioned. I took her hand and shook it. “Nya Smith?” I asked in clarification.

She raised an eyebrow at my question, but nodded. Glancing over at the entrance before looking back at me, Nya angled her head and scanned my face with scrutinizing eyes. I felt like an ant under her stare. It was strange.

“Do you know Lloyd Garmadon?” Her question was bluntly asked, the suddenness of it catching me off guard.

“Uh, yeah,” I said. “We’re friends. You’re friends with him too, right? He mentioned you,” I explained at her bemused stare.

Her eyes seemed to light up with realization at my words. “You met him in Jamanakai, didn't you? You’re that Mari?” she asked again, a devious grin creeping up on her face — though I suspected it was aimed at a certain blonde boy rather than me.

Nevertheless, my smile shifted into a slightly bewildered expression. “Yeah, I did. Does he talk about me a lot?” I joked. A small laugh left me at the thought.

Nya returned my laugh, though hers was notably more hearty, clearly knowing the extent of which her friend discussed me. (I wasn't sure how to feel about that, but I decided it was nice to know a friend liked me.)

“He sure does,” Nya replied with a chuckle, wiping a stray tear from the corner of her eye. “It’s nice that he made another friend.” She sobered at that, a sudden sadness and frustration mixing bitterly in her dark eyes.

Snapping out of her thoughts, she turned back to me, stormy eyes settling back to normal. She cleared her throat. “I guess we should probably start the tour,” Nya stated, motioning me to follow her into the school. I trailed after her, not wanting to lose my way.

The school wasn't as large as I thought it had been, and with Nya’s assistance, it wasn't very difficult to get a general grasp on the building's layout. She led me down the halls to my first hour, which had started a few minutes ago.

Before I went in, she grabbed a pencil and circled the physics class on my schedule. “We have it at the same time,” she explained with a smile. “Sit by me if you want.”

A grateful smile adorned my face at the offer. “Thanks, Nya. I’ll see you then.” She nodded, tossing me a wave before making her way to her own class. With a breath, I entered the classroom, my stomach doing flips as I stepped further inside.

Thankfully, the class passed without any issues. I relished in the anonymity I had now, aside from students’ mild interest in me at being new to the school. My next two classes went by smoothly as well.

Now at my fourth hour, I entered the physics classroom, seeing Nya sitting at a desk near the door. The seat next to her was empty. I glanced around the rest of the room, taking note of the way the other students had subtly spread themselves away from her — not enough to be glaringly obvious, but I still noticed.

A frown settled on my face, but I walked over to sit down next to her.

Nya looked up from her phone, a smile lighting up her features when she greeted me saying, “Hey Mari! How’ve your classes gone so far?”

I returned her smile and gave her a small shrug. “End of the world hasn't happened yet,” I told her, earning an amused smile. Class began shortly and ended as quickly as it started. (At least, it felt that way.) Now it was time for lunch, and I found myself hesitating to leave the room, unsure of where I should go, where I should sit.

Nya saved me from my brief moment of anguish by inviting me to eat with her and Lloyd. Another grateful smile passed over my face and I accepted, starting to follow her out the door.

“You get food from outside?” I asked her curiously. She turned to look at me, her steps unfaltering as she brought us over to the student parking lot.

“Usually,” she answered. “The food here isn't bad, but we prefer to just eat what we want.” She paused suddenly, her foot resting atop the curb when we reached the edge of the parking. “Have you ever ridden a motorcycle?” Her voice was a little hesitant.

I blinked. What was it with everyone and their mother having motorcycles lately? A snort huffed out of me at the thought. She seemed confused by my reaction, and I hurried to say, “Yeah, I have.”

“Oh,” she said. Then her face cracked into a grin. “Great! Let's go. We’ll meet Lloyd there.” She hooked her arm through my elbow and steered me toward her motorcycle — another beautiful vehicle, with its white exterior and elegant print.

The print stood out to me. It depicted Lady Iron Dragon, a woman of legend whose book I’d read countless times. “You’re a fan of Lady Iron Dragon?” I asked, taking the helmet she passed me.

Once again, her eyes lit up. “You know her?”

I smiled at her display of childlike excitement. “I’ve only poured over her book a hundred times,” I joked. “She’s really cool. I’ve loved reading her legend since I was little.”

Nya’s laughter rang out like a bell, her gleeful grin growing. “I’m liking you more by the second, Mari,” she teased, mounting the bike.

After I got on behind her, we headed down the city streets to stop at a small restaurant which was simultaneously connected to a dojo. A green motorcycle was propped up against a sign near the entrance. It instantly caught my attention.

Damn, it really does feel like everyone has motorcycles these days, I thought to myself. “Don’t tell me that’s Lloyd’s,” I scoffed playfully as we passed by it to enter the small store.

Nya snickered. “We all have bikes.” She paused before asking, “Wait, who have you met so far? Out of our circle?”

The question had me thinking a little, trying to remember each of Lloyd’s friends and matching names to faces. I let Nya guide me to a table, noting that she’d spotted someone and beelined a specific way. “I’ve met Lloyd, Zane, Cole, you,” I counted on my fingers, saying that last word pointedly, “And Jay and Kai.”

She nodded, setting her bag down on a chair. “Then you’ve met everyone. Well, almost everyone,” Nya corrected. “Come on, let’s order some food.”

I quirked a brow. There were more people in (what I thought was) their group of six? Following her, I spotted a certain blonde boy standing in line. We walked over to him. Nya tapped his shoulder, and he turned around.

“Nya, good timing. Do you usually get—” he started to say, but cut off when he saw me standing next to her.

“Oh yeah, I forgot to mention,” Nya said, a sly smile on her face. “I invited Mari to join us. That’s cool, right?” Her last words were a question, but she said them like she was daring him to challenge her — or like she knew something he didn't. I didn’t question it.

Instead, I waved — a little awkwardly, I admitted — at Lloyd, offering him a smile. “Hi, Lloyd. Nice to see you again,” I said.

He coughed a bit, an endearing pink dusting his cheeks as he returned my smile. “Yeah, same here,” he agreed, rubbing the back of his neck. “So, uh, are you guys going to order? I just put mine in,” he explained, gesturing to the waiting cashier.

“Yep,” Nya said. She strode up to the counter and told the cashier her order.

I held back, eyes scanning the menu hesitantly. “I’m not sure what to get,” I admitted with a slight frown.

Lloyd gave me a small smile. “Well, do you like sushi? Or maybe soup? The dumplings here are pretty good, too,” he suggested, listing off recommendations. “Not as good as Skylor’s, though,” he added, sending me a wink.

His casual kindness — and that little wink — caught me off guard, but it was far from unwelcome. An appreciative smile crossed my face, and I nodded. “Dumplings sound good. Let’s just hope Skylor doesn’t find out about our betrayal,” I joked back.

He chuckled a little, the pleasing sound making me smile.

After I stepped up to the counter and ordered, we got our food, quickly sitting back down at our table and starting to eat. Lunch period wasn’t long enough that we could be outside for long.

“So, Mari,” Nya started to say. “What’s your next class?”

I swallowed and wiped my mouth with a napkin. “History.”

Lloyd sat up straighter at that. “Who’s your teacher?” he asked. I tilted my head in curious confusion, but answered him anyway. “Mr. Ek.” His eyebrows rose. He glanced at Nya, who was carefully hiding a smile behind her drink.

“I have that class too,” he explained, pulling at the sleeve of his green hoodie.

“Oh, that's cool!” I said, smiling at his nervous mannerisms. “You better hope you’re not sat next to me,” I told him with a chuckle. “I can go overboard with history sometimes.”

He scoffed skeptically. “I know lots of history nerds. You can't be that bad.”

“I prefer the term 'history buff’.”

He snorted at my quip, watching me with an amused smile and relaxed expression. My smile matched his, lips around my straw as I idly sipped from my drink.

Nya clapped her hands together. “Alright lovebirds, we should get going. Lunch is almost over.” Suddenly, our laid back demeanors shifted into something not quite as relaxed. I felt my face heat up at her words, embarrassment — and something else I was not going to acknowledge — staining my face red. A glance at Lloyd revealed he was having the same reaction.

“Nya.” Lloyd muttered under his breath, an exasperated (or flustered?) tone to his voice.

Nya pretended not to hear him. “Ready to head back?” she asked me, rising from her seat.

My mouth flapped open for a few seconds before I cleared my throat. “Uh yeah, yep. Let’s go,” I told her, standing up and gathering my dishes together on the table. I looked back to Lloyd, offering him an awkward smile. “See you later, Lloyd.”

He nodded, pulling at the front of his hood. “Yeah, I’ll see you later, Mari,” he responded, waving goodbye as I followed Nya out the door.

Once we were out of earshot, I caught up to Nya. “What was that about?” I asked her, brows furrowing in bewilderment.

Her lips were curved in an amused smile, but when she glanced at me, she winced apologetically. “Sorry. I just like to tease him sometimes. I didn’t mean anything by it,” she said. She hooked a leg over the bike, handing me a helmet. “Though, it was cute seeing how you two talked with each other.” Mirth filled her eyes as they slid back to me.

I understood Lloyd’s exasperated tone from just now. “Nya, we only met a few weeks ago,” I pointed out. She shrugged, making a promise to drop it. Letting out a little snort, I hopped on behind her. Soon enough, we made our way back to the school and headed inside.

“Do you remember where your next class is?” Nya asked.

Quickly pulling out my schedule, I checked the room number, recalling where it had been. “I think so,” I said.

She squinted in doubt. “I can take you there, if you want,” Nya offered.

But I shook my head. “No, I think I can get there. Besides, you need to get to class on time, you delinquent,” I teased, nudging her with an elbow.

Her brow rose in mild amusement. “Ha-ha. They don’t even count tardies on the first day,” she said, waving at me as she turned to go to her class. I waved back, a small smile on my face. This day had been going well, so far. I hoped it’d stay that way.

Finding my next class wasn’t hard; soon enough I found it and walked inside. Desks were in neat rows, and students were looking at the board to see where their assigned seats were.

Mine was far from Lloyd’s, all the way on the other side of the room. In fact, I noticed that his desk was all the way in the back corner. Only one desk near him had someone assigned to it. A frown dotted my face.

I guess I wouldn’t be able to sit by him, after all. Nevertheless, I walked to my own spot, finding Lloyd’s gaze on me. When our eyes met, I sent him a sad smile. He gave a resigned shrug in return.

However, when the girl who was assigned next to him came into the room and saw where she was seated, there were immediate complaints. “I can’t sit next to him,” she pouted. “This is endangerment. He’ll feed me to his dad’s shark army!”

The teacher didn’t look too pleased with her complaining, but he nodded with a sigh. “I still need someone to sit over there,” he said. “Will someone switch?” His hand hovered over the clipboard, ready to make changes — but his face told me he was skeptical someone would volunteer.

Glancing around, I noticed everyone’s faces were wrinkled in distaste as they stared at Lloyd. It grated on my nerves a bit, reminding me of school back in Jamanakai.

“I will,” I said, grabbing my bag and standing up.

A confused look from the teacher told me he didn’t know who I was. He glanced at my name on the sheet, looking back up with a frown. “You’re the new student?” he asked. I nodded yes. His frown twisted in disbelief, but he nodded and scribbled something down. “Okay then.”

I slung my bag over my shoulder, walking over to where Lloyd sat. I could feel the pairs of eyes watching me as I did so, but I paid no attention to them.

“Hey, Lloyd,” I said to the boy when I set my things down.

His expression was one of surprise. Clearly, he hadn’t expected anyone to sit next to him. “Hi,” he said in reply.

I was consciously aware that people were still watching us with bated breath. An annoyed snort left me as I glanced back at the rest of the students. Turning back to Lloyd, I said, “Looks like now we both have easy choices for project partners.”

A small smile adorned his face, then. It made me smile, too. Once we started talking more, the silence hanging over the classroom dissipated, with people starting to chat with each other again. Distantly, I knew they were still watching us warily, but I never once turned my head back to spare them a glance.

The rest of the class period passed similarly, the two spheres of activity in the room holding their own conversations and atmosphere: me and Lloyd, and everyone else.

When the class was packing up, I quickly took a glance at Lloyd’s schedule, noting that we shared the same last hour, which was also our next class. “Hey, we have literature together,” I told him.

Lloyd glanced down at his piece of paper, eyes flitting over to mine as well. “Oh yeah, we do,” he replied, lips curving up into a smile. “That’ll be nice.”

I nodded in agreement. “We can walk there together,” I suggested, sling my bag over a shoulder.

“Are you sure?” Lloyd asked, hesitance seeping into his face. “I mean, you already— er, people will—” he stuttered. “People will start to think you’re… my friend,” he finished lamely.

A frown pulled my lips downward. “I am your friend,” I pointed out to him. “And I’m not bothered if people take offense to that. God knows I’ve already had to deal with my fair share of crap like this, but I don’t mind doing it again for a friend.”

Thankfully, he smiled at my words, though there was still a hint of something like guilt present in his expression. “Alright,” he yielded. “Let’s go.”

I smiled back at him. Before our first class together, I hadn’t really noticed how people seemed to part their way for him — and not in respect. Now, I was acutely aware that everyone was keeping their distance. Once again, a quiet, angry part of me began to simmer with ire. It was too familiar, the way people stared at Lloyd, with sneers and grimaces on their faces.

Lloyd, for his own part, acted like he didn’t even notice.

(Strangely enough, I thought I could tell that it did get to him. It was in the way he clipped forward, in his tense shoulders, in how he kept his eyes trained away from the crowd. I didn’t know how I knew — I just felt it, and could relate to it, on some level.)

An uncomfortable tension was brewing between us when we entered our last class together. But I didn’t want him to think my foul mood was because of him, so I quickly wiped my face free of any bitter expression. Instead, I flashed him a reassuring smile, and gestured to the array of tables open to sit at with an unspoken offer to sit together again.

Lloyd returned my smile, though his was a bit more reserved. Once he chose a table, I wrote our names down on the clipboard displaying the open seating chart.

It seemed gossip about a new student being friendly with the school’s outcast had spread quickly since our fifth period. People walked into the room and their eyes immediately darted to where me and Lloyd sat next to each other. Some whispered, while others didn’t bother hiding their glares.

I rolled my eyes. Would I have to deal with this everyday? “People are so judgmental,” I muttered under my breath, glaring right back at a particularly mean-looking guy who was sneering at Lloyd.

Next to me, Lloyd let out a sad chuckle. “I know, right?” he agreed, crossing his arms and looking forward.

“I mean, everyone knows your dad doesn’t terrorize Ninjago anymore,” I scoffed. “And it's ridiculous that people are shunning you specifically — as if his actions have any sort of bearing on your own.” My words finished with a bitter tinge to them. Taking a glance at Lloyd revealed he was sitting with tight shoulders and a clenched jaw. I frowned.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to bring the mood down,” I apologized quietly, eyes falling down to the desk. I silently traced the patterns in the wood, wishing I hadn’t said anything at all. Great going, Mari.

Lloyd peeked at me from the corner of his eye, shaking his head. “Don’t apologize. I can’t expect you to just ignore it. I just…” he trailed off, something unreadable seeping into his eyes. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, the golden locks falling back from his face as he leaned back. “I just wish things were different.”

Lips pressing in a thin line, I nodded in agreement. Honestly, it sucked. Seeing him so resigned and accepting of this, of being shunned and cast out purely because of who he was related to.

Not knowing what else to say, I sighed too, leaning backward until my back pressed into the chair.

The rest of the hour passed that way, with both of us silent and unease crawling under our skin. When the bell rang, Lloyd started packing his things, preparing to head out already. I gently reached out a hand to stop him.

I wanted to clarify that I wasn't second-guessing our friendship after today.

“I…” Suddenly, the words disappeared from my tongue. Instead, what spilled out was, “You don’t deserve it, you know.”

His eyes darted back to me, surprise filling them — most likely matching my own perplexed expression. “Thanks,” he replied softly. Lloyd stood there for another few seconds, my hand still on his elbow.

I retracted it after a second. “I mean it. And just to be clear, this doesn’t change anything. We’re still friends,” I told him assuredly.

A smile — true and bright and genuine — lit his features then. “I’m glad,” he said, eyes crinkling with a softness that (strangely) sent a jolt through my stomach. It was then I noticed how green Lloyd’s eyes were, a beautiful hue of rich emerald.

“I gotta go now. I’ll see you tomorrow, Mari, he said with a grin, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

A matching grin crept up my face, and I nodded with a wave. “See you tomorrow, Lloyd.”

Once he stepped through the door, I realized I should probably be going too. I didn’t want to miss the bus back home.

That thought made me pause, too. Home. When had I started referring to Skylor’s apartment as home? I thought about it while walking through the halls, sitting on the bus, and while climbing the steps up to the apartment.

Steam filled the air, floating from the kitchen all the way to the entrance. Skylor noticed me standing at the door, and started laughing, saying something about how she hadn’t expected her new recipe of soup to produce so much evaporation.

I just stood there, eyes round and glassy.

Home had been with Skylor ever since she got me settled into her own home, since she had brought that plate of potstickers for me when we’d reunited, since that first day we met, when she’d started a friendship with me free of expectations or suspicion.

Skylor’s laughs died down a bit when she realized I was still standing completely still. “You okay, Mar?” she asked, concern dotting her brow even with her lips curved in a smile that held back her laughter.

The sight made me smile, tears springing to my eyes. “Yeah, sorry, I just… Thank you, Sky. For everything,” I said, wiping my eye with a finger.

Her eyes softened, and though seeming a little confused, she smiled too. “You’re worth it, Mari. I’m glad we’re together now. No matter what happened to lead you here.” She stepped away from the kitchen, striding over to me and opening her arms.

I fell into them gladly, eyes squeezing shut as I buried my face into the crook of her neck. Skylor’s arms wrapped around me, hands rubbing gentle circles into my back, the soothing motion releasing that part of me that felt like a weight had been burdening me. Silent tears trailed down my face, but I let them.

For the first time in a while, I let myself relax from the crushing pressure of holding back my fears and emotions.

For the first time in a while, I let myself be free.

——————————

If Lloyd was going to be honest, he truly was thankful for his friendship with Mari. That first day of school, when she’d sat next to him and basically announced herself as his friend to their class — their whole school, honestly — had shocked him, to say the least.

And then she’d surprised him further with her kind words at the end of their last class. It had comforted a part of him he hadn’t realized still ached.

Lloyd smiled behind his mask as he thought back to that moment from a few days ago. It was different from how his friends reassured him — how he reassured himself. He always told himself that it was expected to receive that sort of treatment, but that he did enough as the green ninja that it made up for his father’s past actions.

But here was this girl, who didn’t know that Lloyd was one of the many saviors of Ninjago, and she told him that no matter what others said, it was unfair.

He and the ninja never assumed that everyone in Ninjago would thank (or even appreciate) them for their work in keeping the world safe — hell if Lloyd didn’t know how the government viewed them — but to know that someone ordinary didn’t fear or hate him was a breath of fresh air in a room full of poisonous gas.

Sounds of a conflict dragged his attention away from his previous thoughts to the streets below him. With his enhanced hearing and vision, he skimmed the streets for trouble. He could clearly hear three voices. Two of them belonged to men, while the other was female and —

“I said, leave me alone,” the lady said, and with a punch to his gut, Lloyd recognized the voice. It was Mari.

He flew over the rooftops as fast as he could, sprinting from one building to another. The voices sounded closer, and Lloyd scowled when he saw what the men were. A couple of muggers with pathetic morals and a sense of cocky arrogance.

Landing on the edge of a rooftop, Lloyd looked down, spotting the three of them. The two men were trying to corner Mari into an alley, but she faced them directly, holding her ground and taking a defensive stance. “Hang on, Mari,” Lloyd mumbled under his breath.

Leaping off the edge, he silently landed on the sidewalk across the street and started making his way over, keeping his sword sheathed. Even with his silent approach, one of the muggers spotted him. Not surprising, since Lloyd’s green gi didn't exactly blend in with the urban cityscape.

Regardless, he stalked closer, sizing up the two men. They didn't seem too dangerous — the only threats posed were the knives in their hands. Behind them stood Mari, whose hands were fisted defensively.

“You heard the lady. Leave her alone,” Lloyd warned the two thugs.

They snorted. “And go to jail now? No thanks,” one of them snarked, and then lunged at Lloyd with his knife.

Lloyd dodged it effortlessly, reaching out to pull the blade away and disarm him. A swift blow to his head and the guy was out cold. The other one scowled and glanced toward Mari. In a split second, Lloyd knew what was going to happen. “Get back,” he shouted at her, but it was too late by that point.

The mugger had grabbed her and was pressing his knife to her throat. Mari had tried to escape his grip but once she felt the cool metal on her skin, she stilled.

“Go away. And leave your sword here,” the thug demanded, “or I’ll kill her.”

A glare formed under Lloyd’s mask, and he didn't bother hiding the anger building in his eyes. Slowly, he reached back to pull his sword out of its scabbard, setting it on the ground and kicking it away. His eyes remained trained on the thug’s hand holding the knife, and on Mari as she took shallow breaths.

The man smiled smugly, glancing at Lloyd’s discarded weapon. “Now leave,” he repeated.

Lloyd huffed out a breath. Obviously, he wasn't going to leave. But he needed the mugger to think he was, so he could come back from behind and catch him off guard.

He tried to catch Mari’s eye, and once their eyes met, he sent her a look promising that he’d be back soon.

The criminal pressed the knife tighter to Mari’s neck, and she cried out as blood started to seep down the metal. “Stop,” Lloyd ordered, backing away with his hands up. “I’m going.” With a sigh, he reluctantly left the alley, crossing the street, though he kept his eye on the two of them.

Once he was out of sight — which also meant he was unable to see them, unfortunately — Lloyd hurried to the side of the street out of the man’s view and quickly scaled up the side of a building.

He cursed under his breath when he peeked over the edge and saw that the guy was still holding Mari with the knife to her throat.

“He’s gone, you can let go of me now,” he heard her say. He pleaded in his head for her to stop talking; Lloyd didn't want her to aggravate the man further.

“Shut up.” The man was apparently done scanning the surroundings and believed that the green ninja had left the area, so he released Mari. “Now give me everything you have, and quickly. I’m not stupid enough to believe that green freak won’t show up again,” the mugger barked out. He yelled at his accomplice to get up, but the guy was still out cold.

“Seriously, leave me alone,” Mari said again, looking far too calm for the situation she was in. She even went so far as to cross her arms and glare at the man in distaste. If Lloyd hadn't been so busy thinking of a new plan, he’d yell at her to stop escalating the situation.

“Just do what I say, bitch,” the man spat, his knife dangerously close to her.

Lloyd’s heart started racing, but he took a few, quick deep breaths to calm himself. Panicking would not help the situation.

“Do not call me that,” Mari snapped, growing visibly irritated, arms dropping to curl her fists at her sides. The action made the criminal sneer, stepping closer. For a brief second, Mari looked away from the man to look up at where Lloyd was perched up on the roof.

It was then he realized what she was doing: distracting him so Lloyd could ambush him. He stealthily slid down the wall and reached for his abandoned sword. Doing so let out a sound that announced his arrival as it scraped against the ground, but by that point, Lloyd had already pointed the tip of his sword in the criminal's back.

Mari quickly backed out of the thug’s range and stepped back to let Lloyd do his thing. (His thing being smacking the thug with the flat of his sword.)

It wasn't hard to disarm and restrain the assailant now that a civilian wasn't actively in harm’s way, and Lloyd soon had him kneeling on the ground next to his buddy, who was still lying unconscious on the floor.

Turning away from the two apprehended criminals, Lloyd looked back at Mari. Blood dotted the shallow cut on her throat. Lloyd grimaced. “Are you alright?” he asked her, taking a slight step closer.

She gingerly touched the wound, bringing her fingers away to stare at the blood that came away from the cut. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Her voice was steady, but Lloyd feared she could be in shock.

“Do you need any help getting home?” he offered, glancing over his shoulder to check on the two muggers.

Mari shook her head. “No, it’s okay,” she answered. She cleared her throat, tilting her head toward her assailants. “You probably need to get those guys arrested or something.”

Lloyd frowned. “Keeping a civilian safe is more important to me than doing the police’s job for them,” he scoffed. “They’re already on their way. Really, it’s no trouble,” he reassured, hoping she’d accept his offer. She’d told Lloyd that she lived with Skylor, which admittedly wasn’t that far, but he still wanted to make sure she got home safely.

“I’m good,” she told him again, eyes narrowing. Great, now she thinks you’re being weird. “I can get home fine.”

His fingers twitched at his sides. Blowing out a breath, Lloyd crossed his arms. “I insist, miss. It’s not the safest out here,” he reasoned. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted red and blue lights approaching.

The two muggers had been securely restrained, so he should get moving. He didn’t have anything to stick around for.

Except for her. For some reason, he was reluctant to leave Mari to head home alone.

She still didn’t look convinced with his offer, so Lloyd added, “Besides, I need to get away from this scene anyway.” Mari scoffed, preparing to retort back, and Lloyd gave her a sigh, growing tired with her careless refusal. “I won’t force you to let me drop you off, but I’d rest easier knowing you got home safe,” he admitted with a grumble.

Whatever protest Mari had been about to make seemed to die on her tongue. She glanced back at where police cars approached. “Alright,” she conceded with a huff. “Let’s go. Quickly. I don’t want to deal with the police.”

Lloyd quirked a brow at that, but didn’t say anything. He’d be a hypocrite to say he felt differently.

“Are you alright?” Lloyd asked again after a while of walking. The streets were quiet as they did so, but Lloyd kept a vigilant eye on the streets and up on the roofs. Mari sent him a look, raising a brow. “Your neck. You were bleeding, but it looks like it’s stopped now,” he explained.

She blinked. “Oh yeah,” she said simply. “Forgot about that. It doesn’t hurt too much anymore,” Mari told him, running a gentle finger across the shallow wound.

His eyes tracked the movement. A frown crossed Lloyd's face at the cut, lips pulling down tightly. “You need to be more careful,” he chided firmly. “Especially around these parts. This city isn’t always safe, you know.”

Mari gave him a sideways glance, looking none too happy about being scolded. “I am careful. I just got out of work late. And isn’t it your job to keep the city safe?” she volleyed, stuffing her hands into her pocket.

“We can’t always be everywhere all the time to stop crime from happening at all,” Lloyd countered. Distantly, he wondered why Mari was being so thorny with him.

“That doesn't mean it’s my fault some thugs decided to mug me,” she scoffed, shaking her head.

Lloyd said nothing in return. She was right, but that didn't mean it couldn't have been prevented if she’d been more careful. Nevertheless, he stayed quiet. For some reason, Mari appeared to be growing irritated, and Lloyd didn't want to anger her further.

They continued the walk in silence, with Lloyd scanning the surroundings every so often and ensuring nothing was lurking around the corner.

Eventually, they reached what Lloyd recognized as Skylor’s apartment complex.

“Well,” he said, “good night, miss.” She walked further ahead, not stopping for a second. Lloyd huffed out a breath and shook his head, turning to leave.

“Thank you.”

He looked over his shoulder to see Mari now facing him with hesitance in her eyes.

“For walking me home,” she said. “And for helping me earlier.”

Lloyd raised his eyebrows, a small chuckle escaping him at the sudden change of attitude. “It’s no problem, miss,” he replied smoothly, eyes filling with amusement. “Stay safe out there.” He watched Mari go through the glass door, and once she was inside, gave her a small finger salute before turning away.

His thoughts remained on her as he hopped over buildings and leapt onto the roof of a train, getting a ride closer to the monastery.

The interaction was strange, to say the least. She definitely acted differently with the Green Ninja than with Lloyd Garmadon. Funny, he thought to himself with an amused huff. She’s more prickly with the city's savior than its scourge.

——————————

It was the weekend, and me and Skylor had decided to take a little break from work and school to spend a day hanging out. There were loads of places to go in the bustling modern city of Ninjago, but I was aching for a chance to escape the metropolitan cityscape and relax somewhere more open, so when Skylor suggested a hike, I immediately agreed.

(However, a slight problem arose when I had to wear loose clothes for the hike, exposing the cut on my neck. Convincing Skylor that it was from falling onto the kitchen counter was a struggle.)

Even though we were already halfway into September now, the air was still humid in this area, up atop the mountainous hills far from the city.

The winding path we hiked on provided a good challenge for us. We were a little out of breath from the steep inclines, and I could feel my legs burning from the exertion. (Had it been so long since I’d worked out that I was already getting tired? I’d have to start again sometime.)

We were both fit and in good shape, I deduced — Skylor went to the gym, after all. Still, both of us decided to rest and take a breather after a while.

Taking a sip of my water, I glanced around the area, scanning the surroundings before allowing myself to drink in the beautiful sight we were making our way through. We sat on a couple of boulders that faced the edge of a miniature cliff, a small creek in the glen below providing a calm trickling sound.

“This place is beautiful,” I commented to Skylor after a minute. “I’m glad we came here.”

She smiled, capping off her own water bottle. “I used to come here a lot, before I owned the restaurant. I haven't been here in a while — I’m glad you like it,” Skylor told me, fanning herself with a hand.

I smiled and mimicked the action, feeling sweat sticking my clothes to my body.

At that moment, a breeze drifted lazily through the canopy of trees, providing a cool respite from the humidity. My eyes closed as I breathed in the gust of crisp air.

“That's strange,” Skylor remarked.

“Hm?” I hummed, not opening my eyes yet.

“That breeze. We’re under a canopy of trees,” she explained. “It’s weird that there's wind running through here.”

Opening my eyes, I noticed that her eyes were narrowed a bit, brow scrunched in thought. My head tilted to the side. “Yeah, I guess that's kinda weird,” I agreed absentmindedly. My gaze went back to take in the nice view around us, but I could feel Skylor’s eyes on me. After a while, I stretched my legs out and stood up. “Ready to get moving again?” I offered her a hand.

Skylor didn't move for a second, but then nodded and said, “Yeah. Let's go.” She clasped my hand and rose from her seat on the rock.

The rest of the hike was quite nice. We reached the peak of the small mountain and spent some time relaxing atop it before making the trek back down. By the time we reached the bottom, my legs burned and I was sweating all over, but any stress had been washed away.

All too quickly, our hike was over and we headed back home, washing off the day’s sweat. The remaining few hours before we’d tuck in for bed were surprisingly quiet — since we’d gotten back, Skylor had been in a pensive state.

I didn’t mind the quiet too much. It was a nice way to finish the day.

Once the sun set and the sky had faded into its inky black color, I decided to put on a show. Skylor was still in her room, so I sent her a text from where I sat on the couch letting her know in case she wanted to join.

She didn’t reply, but I shrugged it off, figuring she probably went to bed early. However, an uneasy feeling was twisting its way through my gut, so I quickly sent my whispers to check in on her.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. She was sitting on the edge of her bed, and I could feel from the wisps that she was perfectly still and motionless, probably still stuck in that reflective state. I heard her breaths and her heart beating, and relaxed.

Just as I retracted the tendrils of air, I felt her stiffen, and her demeanor changed. My brow creased in thought — and concern — but before I could listen for more, she’d gotten up and walked out of her room. I let the whispers fade into nothing, sending her a perplexed smile.

“You alright, Sky?” I asked, muting the show. “You’ve been quiet.”

“Yep. I’m fine,” Skylor answered smoothly. Her face and tone were relaxed, but I felt that there was something stirring in her thoughts.

I raised a skeptical eyebrow, but turned back to the show. “Gonna join me?” I flicked the remote back to the TV, unmuting it and going back to where I’d left off.

Behind me, Skylor hummed in thought. “Not tonight. But I did want to talk to you about something,” she replied. I paused the show again, turning back to her. She was inspecting her nails, her casual attitude making me think she was anything but.

“What’s up?” I asked. My eyes flickered between the show and her, but I decided watching both wasn’t working, so I turned the screen off completely.

Skylor glanced at me. Her mouth opened, but then closed. Whatever words she’d been wanting to say seemingly disappeared. Instead, what she said surprised me.

“What do you think of the Secret Ninja Force?”

I blinked. “What do you mean?”

She shrugged, striding over to the couch and resting her arms on the back of it. “What’s your opinion of them?” she rephrased, watching me with a careful eye.

My face twisted in confusion for a second, but I humored her question anyway. “I don’t really have an opinion on them, actually,” I told her. “I mean, it’s nice they do stuff for the world and all that. They’re still vigilantes, though.”

Skylor stared at me, her eyes searching me. I shifted uncomfortably under her scrutinizing gaze. “Do you know anything about their powers? Or how they’re able to do what they do?”

Where was this conversation going? I couldn’t read what Skylor’s intentions were with these questions, and that unsettled me.

“Not really.”

That was a lie. But admittedly, what I knew was very little, and I doubted that telling her the truth would lead to anything besides trouble. I trusted that Skylor wouldn’t sell me out to the cops if I revealed I knew something about the ninja — anything that could help the police build their case on them — but I couldn’t afford not to be cautious. Especially because of what happened with Hideo.

My answer seemed to be different than what Skylor was expecting. Disappointment briefly flickered in her eyes. She frowned, but kept her features collected and (mostly) neutral. “You know, Mari,” she said, “I think that the sooner you open yourself up, the sooner you’ll feel truly free.”

With that, she retreated to her room again, leaving me sitting stunned on the sofa.

——————————

A/N: Whew, that was the longest chapter so far (and it definitely felt like it while writing, haha).

Dipped a toe into Mari's knowledge of the elemental powers in this chap, can't wait to dive deeper!

Thanks for reading!

——————————

Previous | Next

#lego ninjago #lloyd garmadon #lloyd garmadon x oc #lloyd garmadon x reader #ninjago fic #ninjago x oc #coracal's fics: north wind

8 notes · View notes

sarucane · 8 months

Text

Glorious Good Omens S2 Missable Details

I watched Good Omens S2 roughly 507 times the last few weeks (been a rough month, it kept me afloat and I'm eternally grateful), point being:

Tumblr Reader, please benefit from my wild-obsession and read on for good deep-cut bits to pay attention to on your next rewatch:

Episode 1

-Crowley has a very slightly different accent in the opening scene. It's a bit more "proper" and "angelic."

-Maggie's shop is called "The Small Back Room," and she tells Nina it started out as a corner of Aziraphale's bookshop...one of his back rooms.

-Crowley's newspaper says that voters named Tadfield the best village in England--and that the weather there remains perfect.

Episode 2

-There are crows visible and audible in the background riiiight after Crowley "smites" the goats.

-"Jim's" bendy-fan book is a Terry Pratchett's first Discworld novel "The Colour of Magic"

-Someone wrote the whole article! Apparently business at "The Resurrectionist" slowed down when "Everyday" got old, but now people are showing up just to witness the miracle.

-The fellow at the pub who Aziraphale miracles out of a chair has a newspaper that mentions Milton Keynes. Most of the article is out of focus, but Milton Keynes is a city that, in the book, both Crowley and Aziraphale took credit for.

-Job, when introduced, is leaning against a pile of steaming manure. I'm aware that I'm an idiot for not noticing this right away...

Episode 3

-Jim is using a mug that Aziraphale had in the first season. Either he or Aziraphale has added the label in the interim.

-Muriel doesn't say "cup of tea," she says "cuppatea," because she didn't properly hear what Aziraphale said.

-At some unshown point, Crowley takes over body-hauling duties for Elspeth

-Beezlebub hauls their chair horn-ed chair around to 2-3 rooms over the whole season--and is also, on reflection, clearly quite worried about Gabriel here and in episode 1.

-Aziraphale finds the surgeon's whiskey to be a step too far, smell-wise.

-Laudanum courtesy of Cut-me-own-throat-Dibbler. It's a miracle the thing had any effect on Crowley, it was probably mostly rat urine and even more questionably sourced water.

-When Crowley tells Elpeth to leave just before she exits stage left, he calls her "hen," which is what Wee Morag almost always called her.

Episode 4

-Mark Gatiss's (Nazi Male Sidekick) arm is falling off half the time because he's the one who was holding the books that Crowley demonically saved. The nazi's arm was sticking out of the rubble, holding the suitcase, to make it easy to retrieve the books. Hence it got tugged by both Crowley and the scavengers, and fell off by the end of the episode. Serves the book-thief right.

-The Nazi Zombies hang in the Dirty Donkey to spy on the fellas in the bookshop--the same pub Crowley and Aziraphale visit in E2, and the pub that the heaven elevator commanders in E4 and E5

-Aziraphale gets nervous and seems to jump to the end of his act when he asks the audience who has experience with firearms. He hasn't told Crowley that this will be the cue. So, quite reasonably, Crowley does not raise his hand when asked if he has experience with firearms.

-Listen to the credits all the way through to the end of the music here: the audio changes. I don't know music well enough to know what happened, but it's fun.

Episode 5

-The owner of "Marguerite's," the French restaurant, is in fact named Justine. When she goes into Aziraphale's shop for the ball/business meeting, her accent has changed completely.

-All the candles we see on the chandeliers, as well as the candles in the next episode, are battery-operated.

-Nina's the only one this season who gets to drop the f-bomb.

-Mrs. Sandwich and the whole sequence. Google Discworld+seamstress guild if you don't get it.

-The music shop owner took the Doctor Who manual with him when he fled the demons.

Episode 6

-When Crowley changes his clothes to look angelic, the only thing he's wearing that's ACTUALLY white are his hilariously dumbass white slippers.

-The box that Gabriel came with is now storing a bunch of books, pamphlets, and papers. Two of these are the lost Shakespeare plays mentioned in the original Good Omens novel: Golde Diggers of 1589 and The Comedie of Robin Hoode.

-Gabriel's first 2 memories appear after he goes down an orange-red tunnel. But after he and Beezlebub have their first "background" meeting, the tunnel becomes blue. The whole thing ends (after bookending, Crowley says "let there be light" in the first episode and Gabriel says it in this one) with Gabriel's eyes turning purple...blue+red.

-Background acting appreciation: 1) look at Gabriel when Beelzebub says Shax could be Grand Duke of Hell, 2) look at Aziraphale in the corner when Crowley talks to Shax about his apartment, he's nodding vaguely while staring dreamily and it's adorable, 3) also rewind and check out Martin Sheen in episode 2 when the angels come to the shop, he's in the background being terrified and it's amazing

-...I can't resist: based on episodes S01E06 and S02E06, one way or another this'll end with nightingale song

#good omens #good omens 2 spoilers #good omens season 2 #go2 #@neil gaiman #well that was fun

17 notes · View notes

sleepygreentea · 2 years

Note

*Cough* mistfits with a reader on their evil cycle

Of course GN reader in their evil cycle with the misfits (So sorry this took so long! School is beating my ass TmT) Agares Picero:

He's much too tired to even notice

well that's an over-exaggeration, he sees, and he offers naps on his cloud, but, if you refuse he kinda just shrugs and keeps on nappin'

To him, It's not his problem if the evil cycle you can't appreciate the loving comfort of his nap cloud

he is worried about what caused your evil cycle, but he can't help much

Allocer Schneider: (I couldn't find a good gif ;m;)

no matter how smart he is, no matter his grade, he is but a little autistic nerd

He's right on the money about why and how you're in your evil cycle, but, he can't help, because he just doesn't know how

he wants to help

but apparently stressed murderous demons don't like hearing about history in great detail.

Andro Jazz:

Despite a thief not seeming like the best to put in front of someone that is at a heightened risk of committing a crime, he's actually stopping you from following through on most of your impulsive actions

his big brother mode flicks on and he is able to just power his way through to you and get not commit horrid acts against the Geneva Conventions

Although sometimes... he joins in

Asmodeus Alice:

Sorry but he just genuinely doesn't give a fuck

you aren't Iruma.

You can never fill the homosexual-sized hole in Azz's heart like Iruma can

He only helps because Iruma is helping.

Caim Kamui:

He also genuinely doesn't give a fuck

Unless you got Triple D's and the feminity of a god, He doesn't care.

Crocell Kerori:

Unlike the last two, She actually cares!

most of the care being guilt, I mean, She's an Akudol (Demdol)! She was meant to help on the big screen! so she helps you out a small bit, taking off some workload. actively and effectively helping you out of your evil cycle a tiny bit quicker

Gaap Goemon:

He just genuinely doesn't notice

if he did, he would help, but he just doesn't.

he's oblivious

The baby Iruma!:

He is so kind and understanding, and he helps along with Crocell to lighten your workload

He brings you tea and shares his snacks with you

along with Crocell, he helps cut down on your evil cycle issues.

Ix Elizabetta:

Just like Gaap, she's also just oblivious

she only sees it when Crocell starts hanging out with her less to help you

but she just can't help like the others can

Sabnock Sabro:

Once he realizes you are in your evil cycle, he basically carries you around

He wants normal you back as soon as possible, he understands how annoying evil cycles can be.

and in his words "It is my duty as the future demon king to help all my subjects that are in need!"

Shax Lied:

He doesn't care.

He just wants to play video games, and as long as you don't get in the way of that, he doesn't care.

Valac Clara:

She helps because Iruma is helping

but

even though she doesn't mean it.

she makes your evil cycle worse.

Purson Soi: (My son<3)

He cares, but, he doesn't??

He cares because your evil cycle brings EVEN MORE attention to the Misfits which he hates

but, He just wants to do his own thing and helping you would cut into his personal time.

AGAIN SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TMT, school has a tendency of beating the shit out of me figuratively.

51 notes · View notes

supportivecircle · 10 months

Text

The Lanolin Ship Studies #3

Hey everyone! Lanolin and I are here with another Ship Study, where we study and breakdown the pros and cons of the most popular Sonic the Hedgehog ships! Fans of the series will probably be wondering, "Wait, what happened to #1 and #2?" Well loyal readers, it turns out some trolling antis got those posts taken down. Apparently, a lot of them didn't like the thoughts I had towards their favorite ships, K.K. Slider x Sonic (K.K. Slonic) and Amy Rose x Chun-Li (Amy-Li), and brigaded my posts to get them falsely taken down. Don't worry though, I won't let the haters stop us! I will continue to provide you with thoughtful, and sometimes critical, insights into all the best ships while I work on getting those posts back up. Today's ship has definitely earned it's spot at #3 in the most popular ships:

That's right, it's Lara Croft x Rouge the bat (Larouge). Wow! Look at them! Lanolin sure is excited to explore the aspects of this relationship today. For a little detail on these two, in case you somehow don't know, Rouge the Bat is an infamous jewel thief, super spy, and occasional hero from the Sonic the Hedgehog series, while Lara Croft is a renowned archeologist and explorer from the Tomb Raider series. Looking at the two of them, you might not have guessed they'd have shared such a love for ancient artifacts and exploring old tombs, but looks can be deceiving! They have a lot in common which makes them quite the priceless couple.

Pro #1: Shared Love of Relics Did you know Lara Croft has a huge artifact collection from her adventures? This is where she differs from other archeologists. See, Lara Croft likes to take artifacts from ancient sites and just stores them within the personal library of her mansion to stare at while she sips on her morning tea (did I forget to mention that she's british?). Rouge the Bat also takes artifacts and jewels for herself. Oh yeah, and Lara Croft is super-rich. The two of them can keep all the gems and statues for themselves without needing to worry about money! Just two girls traveling the world looking for ancient burial sites and tombs to raid.

Pro #2: They Cover Each Others’ Weaknesses In Combat Rouge the Bat is a bat. She can fly and zip around the battlefield when things get a little hairy. Using her powerful legs, she can deliver swift spin kicks that are capable of drilling through hard surfaces with her Pick Nails! She was even able to go toe-to-toe with Knuckles and end the duel in a stalemate. Lara Croft on the other hand is a master markswoman. She is capable of pinpoint accuracy when dual wielding pistols, firing an assault rifle, or hunting animals with a bow. They completely cover each other's weaknesses when it comes to fighting enemies, whether they be agents of GUN, badniks, or members of the Fiamma Nera! If anyone gets too close to Lara, she can count on Rouge to kick their butts. They truly make an amazing battle couple.

Pro #3: Chest Counterweights Now before anyone gets weird about this, it’s a defined physical trait that both of these ladies have larger than average breasts. This actually works out very well for the both of them as a pairing! Because Rouge is much smaller than Lara, she can actually be carried on Lara's back in her backpack when traveling.

As shown in the above diagram, by going back to back, these two can offset the heavy weight that rests on their fronts and they act as perfect counterweights for each other. This way they can help mitigate the pains that can come with having a large chest.

Now, when reading through the countless fanart, fanfiction, and discussion of this pairing I can only find one real con that persists between iterations:

Con #1: Rouge Won’t Settle Down! Rouge the Bat is non-committal! Who could ever hope to keep her chained down when she has wings and was born to fly? It’s definitely a problem for this couple, but personally, I think they can slay that dragon. After all, Lara has experience in slaying dragons. Maybe she can locate the Dagger of Xian stuck in this dragon and pull it out again!

That brings us to the end of the latest entry in our Ship Study series! I hope you all enjoyed it. After researching it, I find this ship quite enjoyable, and I think Lanolin is a big fan too! Thanks for reading everyone, I promise I will work on getting the first two entries back up in full as soon as I can. Based on my data, I already know which couple will be the subject of Study #4. I’ll leave you with a hint, but I think for a lot of you it will be a dead giveaway: both of these mystery solvers always find the truth. Say goodbye Lanolin!

10 notes · View notes

wangsejabin · 1 year

Text

Chapter 117

Pan'er was suddenly embarrassed.

"You are the emperor, how do you know what the chief constable does all day long? Besides, he is supposed to be chasing criminals and arresting thieves, doing a proper job. And what do you mean by a woman thief? She is obviously a woman warrior, robbing the rich to help the poor!"

"Yes, robbing the rich to help the poor." Zong Cong pretended to be serious, but the smile in his eyes gave him away.

Seeing that she was about to become angry, he hurriedly said, "You are right, the dog officials here should indeed be killed. I've just had a look at it, and I think the contents of this book are very innovative and different from the ones you've read before, why don't I have someone take it outside the palace and find someone to print it for you?"

These words instantly turned Pan'er's attention away.

" Can that be done?" Her eyes lit up for a moment.

"Why not? It's written for people to read, isn't it? Some people write bullshit poems, but they also print them and call them something elegant, and when they come to poetry fairs, they bring them out to fetch fame."

He had met one or two famous scholars who looked and acted fine, but when he went back and looked through the masterpieces they had presented, he almost spat out his tea.

Pan'er knew of this, and therefore knew what he meant by his words.

"But what if someone says it's not good?" Pan'er was a little apprehensive when it came down to it.

When Zong Zong looked at her, he had only wanted to coax her not to be angry, but now he took it to heart.

If you can't accept the criticism of others, then you might as well not write it." He thought for a moment and said, "Whether it's good or bad will be known only when others read it.

Apparently he hadn't really understood the woman's mind, and hearing him say that, Pan'er became a little upset instead.

"How can you be so persuasive, if you can't say something nice."

Kind words?

The emperor had never said anything nice to anyone before, not when he was the crown prince, and even less so now that he was the emperor. But she was the exception to the rule, and he had already broken the rule in her case many times, so there was no reason not to break it a few more times.

"I also want to prepare you mentally, so that you won't be unhappy when the time comes."

She glanced at him and said, "It's not like I'm writing a masterpiece, so I don't think anyone will criticise it, but at most the booksellers won't accept it or no one will buy it." She had paid attention to these things when she was in Yangzhou, so she naturally knew the trick.

"How can no one buy it? There are always people who buy it. If you give the stuff to me, I will have someone arrange it." Zong Cong even secretly planned to send someone to buy more if no one really bought them.

Who knew that Pan'er would say, "You are so busy with government affairs, I don't have the face to bother you with such a trivial matter. Besides, you won't do it yourself, you'll just give it to the people below you. You don't mind, I'll take care of this myself."

Seeing that she was talking in a logical manner, Zong Cong became curious.

"What are you going to do?"

"I won't tell you."

Don't look at Pan'er's secrecy, but in fact, Zong Cong knew without using his brain that she was definitely planning to send a eunuch out to pretend to be a fallen scholar, and then find a bookstore to sell the manuscript to a bookseller. Whether the bookshop would accept it or not was another story, but from Zong Cong's point of view, it should not be difficult to sell it.

But since she said she would do it herself, he would leave it alone, and he could always find out how it would turn out after a while.

Seeing that it was getting late, Zong Cong did not intend to leave and stayed at Jingren Palace for the evening meal.

After dinner, he would not rest for a while, so he asked Fulu to go to Qianqing Palace and bring in a pile of his documents, and asked someone to put an extra lamp on the bed table, and leaned on the bed to read the documents.

Pan'er also had nothing to do, so he had someone bring a pen, ink, paper and ink stone and sat down opposite him to continue writing the unfinished manuscript.

It was a very harmonious situation, with one person on each side.

As time passed, the night grew darker and darker.

Pan'er felt an itch on her face and didn't take it seriously, just rubbed her hand against it and continued to write. Who knew that something didn't feel right, and when she stretched her hand, she realised that there was a smear of red on the back of her hand.

The red was on her face.

She looked up, only to find the man across the room smiling at her with a vermilion pen in his hand, and only then did she feel something wrong with her face, reaching up to wipe it again, and there was another splash of red.

"What did you do to my face?"

With that, she took her hand and wiped it towards his face, Zong Cong didn't expect her to be so bold and was wiped right in the face, and then both of them froze.

"Who told you to get me first." She scolded, and hurriedly got off the bed to look for a mirror. Xiang Pu and Fu Lu and the others didn't dare to come in when they saw that they weren't called inside either.

Pan went to the mirror and realised that she had become a big flower face.

On her forehead it was fine, he had painted a plum blossom design on her, so she took it as a flower decoration.

But on her cheeks?

There was one side that she hadn't ruined, and it was a turtle!

Pan'er was about to faint with anger, and when she saw him following her, she complained, "You are so grown up, you are the father of many children, why are you still doing this kind of child's play."

"I think I've painted it quite well." He admired the plum blossom on her forehead and said.

"Then I will draw one for you later too?"

"I'm a man, I don't need to put on the flower makeup."

He was the most powerful anyway, and he was justified in saying whatever he wanted.

Pan'er didn't argue with him, and afterwards, seeing that she couldn't really wipe it clean with a handkerchief, she went to the bathing room.

In one corner of the bathing room was a shelf with a mirror on it and a copper basin with water in it, the place where Pan'er usually used to clean her face. The water in it was changed by the palace maids after it had been used, so the water was clean.

She washed her face with the water and finally got it clean.

She dried her face and saw him standing by with a red line on his face, like a red cat's beard. She held back her laughter, looked at the red water in the basin and said with false affection, "Would Your Majesty like to wash it too? But the water in this basin has been stained by my servant, you wait, I will let someone come in to change the basin."

If he let someone come in to change the water, he would let others see his improper appearance, where would his face be then?

Zong Cong looked at his own face in the mirror, grabbed her and also said with a straight face, "There is no need to change the water, it is used by my beloved consort anyway, it is not that Consort hasn't bathed with me in the past, I don't mind you, so Consort can use a handkerchief to dab the water for me to wipe it."

It was clear that the situation favoured him, so Pan'er had no choice but to give in.

She chose a clean spot on the handkerchief and dabbed it with water, stood in front of him and wiped his face, and as she did so, she couldn't help but fall into his arms and laugh, i.e. at the way he looked and at what he said about his beloved consort.

"What are you laughing at?"

"Nothing, nothing ...... Well ......"

Fulu pricked his ears to listen to the movement inside, and after listening for a while, he finally dropped his heart and stood up straight.

He bumped right into Xiang Pu on the side, he straightened his chest and assumed the stance of a chief eunuch, "What is the little girl listening to, why don't you go now?"

Xiang Pu wilted and walked away, but couldn't help but look back at Fu Lu indignantly as she went.

He said I should not listen, but you are also listening to the wall.

---

Zong Cong guessed correctly that Pan Er had indeed intended to sell the manuscript at first, to find a eunuch to go out and disguise herself as a down-on-her-luck showman.

But after yesterday, she had a different idea.

In the vernacular, there are those who take the serious route, printing the four books, five scriptures, classics, histories and collections, or various masterpieces of famous writers, current articles and examinations.

Another type of book is the lower class, selling all kinds of vernacular novels and countryside stories. There is a common saying that it is better to sell ancient books than to sell current texts, and to print current texts than to print vernacular novels, referring to the wider acceptance of this lower-class route.

The wide acceptance means that more people buy them, and more people buy them means that there is profit to be made in them, which causes booksellers to flock to the market, and it is not uncommon for books to be sold at low prices in order to capture business.

Since the prices are low, there are relatively natural disadvantages.

For example, when Pan'er bought books in Yangzhou during her southern tour, the best ones did not cost more than two taels of silver at most, and the second best ones could be bought for a few dozen. She usually bought the best ones, because although they were cheap, the paper quality was poor and the engraving was extremely crude, so the writing was blurred and the ink might get all over her hands, making it impossible to read.

But even the most expensive ones were rough for her to look at. If she really intended to have her manuscript printed, how could she accept it being made to look like this, so she planned to have someone go out of the palace to buy a bookshop.

This would give her manuscripts a place to go, and even if she couldn't sell them, she would be happy to see them printed in a more beautiful way.

The bookshop could continue to do its business without any delay, and it could be considered as a small shop for Wan Yin to earn some silver for her rouge and powder.

Pan'er left this to Feng Hai.

Now that Feng Hai has become a jack-of-all-trades, Pan'er began to feel that the people around her were not quite enough, but this kind of thing cannot be rushed and can only be done slowly.

On the other hand, although Zong Cong did not mention the dismissal of the respectful service room, the people in the respectful service room did not dare to come to Qianqing Palace anymore, and they were even more peaceful than before when the emperor had just fallen ill.

Empress Chen was relieved to see that the matter was settled, although the result was not as satisfactory as she would have liked, and that she was finally free to do what she wanted most.

#mtl #yingchong

13 notes · View notes

swan-orpheus · 1 year

Text

bix caleen’s sacrifice

We were told that this show was going to highlight how morally grey the Rebellion is, whatever the heck that means. I phrase it like this because I always get a little wary when folks vaguely insinuate that the Rebels are even remotely on the same level as the Empire in terms of being a nasty bit of business bent on taking over the entire galaxy and causing mass suffering. What’s the old saying, “When the force of example no longer works, there’s just the example of force”? When you take away someone’s tools to object, to protest, and make it a fight for their very existence, what other choice do they have? You fight or you perish. This is what it means to be radicalized. There’s nothing pretty about rebellion. You can’t invoke the revolution and then expect to be comfortably home in time for tea. That isn’t how it works. And after all, folks who murder and control and oppress who say, “Well you gave us no choice but to crank the murder and oppression up to 11 for daring to protest!” are not justified in what they are doing under any circumstances no matter what Luthen Rael has up his sleeve. It’s the usual villainous bullshit of, “If I point a gun at everyone in the room and decide to open fire, it’s your fault! You murdered them.” Yeah, no, sorry that is insane emotional blackmail villain logic.

The point that I’m working towards is that if there is something to find rather disturbing and that makes this show the big moral grey space that we were informed it would be, then it is Bix’s sacrifice to a cause that she did not agree to join.

Bix Caleen and her sacrifice, Bix Caleen caught in the center of the maelstrom as much as Cassian, Bix Caleen who didn’t take a vow or sign up for this.

From what we hear in Episode 9, Salaman Paak met with Kleya two years ago and was being paid to maintain the radio, I am assuming that he had an inkling of what she was about based on the contents of their apparent conversation about Paak wanting to “be more political” (If you check out his son, Wilmon, when Bix asks to go in back in Episode 1, his eyes look like they are vibrating in his head. He knows it’s risky.) But then Paak hands operation of it over to Bix and from what we see she has no knowledge of the radio’s true import. She thinks that she signals a “buyer” to come buy parts so that she can earn some more credits. Sure you could say that she could have asked questions, but why? It’s business and she is a professional. You steal, you sell, you lie low for a bit. Making money at the expense of The Empire is a crime in their eyes, but it is not the same as actively, and here is the keyword, actively, being a rebel. And considering the amount of corruption within the Empire itself being practiced by Imperials, this is small time. Even Dedra acknowledges that being a thief is not in the same league as being “a fish”, though I do not doubt that it is a punishable offense.

Vel, Mon, the heist crew, Anto Kreegyr, Cassian, Lonni Jung, all know what they have gotten themselves into or have at least walked into it willingly. They took a vow, or made a deal for credits, accepted a job. But Bix never makes the conscious decision to get involved. When Luthen speaks of Kreegyr and his men dying, it is lamentable to say the least, but at least they likely go into an operation (forgive the wording there owch Nemik) knowing full well that they might not come out of it alive. This is what the rebellion entails. Their eyes are wide open to paraphrase Kleya Marki when she accuses Luthen of slipping.

Folks are talking about Kreegyr and Jung and how now we are getting into the tough and disturbing choices that the rebels are having to make for the future of the galaxy. Narkina 5, Spellhaus, the Aldhani heist are big spectacles. But for me Bix’s fate is a lot more shocking because it is so vile and so intimate and goes largely unwitnessed. It makes you wonder what else we do not see.

To use Dedra’s phrasing, Bix is put up “on the carving block” for the machinations of Luthen, and Kleya. (Not to mention Paak getting tortured and hanged for merely having this dubious fractal radio.) Of course so are the prisoners and anyone in the galaxy suffering because of PORD, but Bix is all alone in a room, friendless, companionless being tortured in one of the most horrific ways imaginable. It’s even worse than the floor being lava and she has nobody to talk to about it. There is no “One Way Out” for her. She can’t even take her own life if she wants. She is in the Empire’s net and has no means of escape.

I’m certain we have not seen the last of her and I do not think that she will blame Cassian. As she said he and the buyer ‘don’t have a relationship’. Unless of course Dedra and company have poisoned her mind with torture and psychological duress to the point that she now believes that he was complicit. Apart from that, Bix has already gone through it emotionally with her past relationship with him, the incident on Morlana One and its collateral damage with Timm being murdered, and the Imperial occupation. She knows that Cassian is also a victim of the system. But in terms of the Rebellion and being press-ganged into assisting them, without her consent, she might not be so sanguine if she eventually realizes who precisely was at the other end of that radio. We get a small glimpse of this in the prison with Ulaf and Xaul angrily commenting on how the rebel activity has lengthened their sentences.

I am hoping that this is leading to a long and complex storyline for Bix, one in which she resists along with the others, but questions some of the decisions being made. It would be incredible to have a mirror to Mon Mothma in someone working class who knows that the Rebellion is necessary, but who is trying to reconcile the strategies being employed with who is being forced to make sacrifices as a result. I think that Bix would be more willing to use violence at this point considering what she’s been through and who they’ve hurt in her community, but might draw the line at something like sacrificing fifty men. At any rate, I cannot wait to find out.

#star wars #andor #andor spoilers #bix caleen #adria arjona #andor meta #i do think that Bix makes it out #and Gilory et al mentioned that there will be #changes in allegiance #so I wonder how her story will unfold next season #i hope that it involves a bit of agency at the very least #i want Bix to have a main active role #p.s. i love her she's ride or die #i will follow her storyline anywhere #anywhere #just saying

25 notes · View notes

keldae · 3 months

Note

Cute, shippy starters: 46) “Hey, have you seen the..? *Oh.*”

Devi loved cats, for the most part. Having grown up in the Lower City, stray cats had been all over the place; and most of them, after some obligatory introductory hissing, seemed to tolerate the little half-Elf thief well enough. Some had even learned that, if they were friendly enough, Devi might share her food scraps with them while she waited for her next mark. It hadn't been uncommon for Devi to have a cat curled up beside her while she had sat on a roof ledge, or prowling around her legs while she'd scoped out a new target. Her father would never have let her keep one for a pet, but she enjoyed giving scritches and pets where she could to the stray animals.

And then there was Tara.

Devi supposed her first mistake had been referring to Tara as “Gale's tressym” – she'd immediately gotten hissed at for that. She hadn't made the same mistake again, but Tara seemed to not ever forget a grudge. Even after Devi had come home with Gale to Waterdeep, Tara had regarded the thief with aloof suspicion. She was incredibly different from the normal cats Devi had grown used to, and even with regular usage of a potion to let her speak with animals, the two regularly butted heads.

She knew it caused Gale distress, that the woman he loved and the tressym he adored seemed to be permanently at odds. “Was she like this with Mystra too?” she had asked one day, watching Tara fly in pursuit of a hapless pigeon.

Gale had snorted. “Given how Mystra and I ended, and the sixth sense that animals have about such things, I like to think Tara would have tried to claw her eyes out if they'd ever met.” He'd smiled and given Devi a kiss on the temple. “I'm sure she'll warm up to you eventually. She's just… cautious with new people.”

That had been well over a tenday ago, and Devi still wasn't sure how long ‘eventually’ was supposed to last.

She sat in her favourite chair in Gale's tower, idly plucking at the strings on her violin. Gale himself was out today – he'd been summoned to some sort of meeting with another wizard, and the tone of the invitation had made it clear that Devi wasn't invited. Honestly, Gale had been more offended at the entire matter than she'd been. She'd sent him on his way with a kiss and a promise that she wouldn't find any mischief in his absence. And so far, she'd been good to her word, reading one of his many books and coming up with a new melody to play on the violin.

She sighed, looking out the window for a moment, then winced as her stomach lurched threateningly. Apparently whatever stomach flu she had somehow picked up (that Gale had dodged. Lucky bastard of a wizard.) was still not fully out of her system. And that had been the other reason Gale had been reluctant to go to this meeting with his colleague – he was worried about her, after the last four days of her waking up sick and struggling to keep anything she ate down.

Maybe it was the coffee he had introduced her to. Devi wrinkled her nose in thought. That was something she had never been introduced to as a poor Baldurian thief – perhaps the rich, stimulant brew was the cause of her–

Her eyes went wide, and she barely had time to set her violin on the table and grab an empty pail before her stomach violently rejected the two pieces of toasted bread and the banana she'd eaten less than an hour ago.

Wincing as her stomach eventually stopped revolting, she spat into the bucket, then shakily stood up, intent on finding water to rinse her mouth out before disposing of the vomited meal. “Fucking hells,” she mumbled, scowling down at her stomach. “Are you done yet?”

“Tsk, tsk,” said a voice behind Devi, one that made her jump. “Mr. Dekarios will not be pleased to learn that you're still ill.” With a flutter of her wings, Tara jumped up onto the table, regarding Devi with a stern look. “Had I thumbs, I would make you drink some tea.”

“Gale's been trying with the tea,” Devi said, finding a carafe of water in the kitchen and swishing a mouthful around to get the taste of bile out of her mouth. She spat into the bucket, still feeling Tara's eyes on her. “I think it helps a little bit?”

Tara lowly growled, then jumped to the counter. “Here,” she said, standing up on her hind legs to paw at a rack of herbs. “Mr. Dekarios keeps ginger up in this rack, and that should help with human – or half-Elf – nausea.”

“... Thank you.” Devi approached the counter, reaching around the fluffy head and wings to grab the large ginger root. Finding where Gale kept his kitchen knives, she carefully cut off a thin slice of the ginger, then put it in her mouth, wrinkling her nose at the strong taste. “Please work,” she mumbled as she put the rest of the root away, then moved to clean off the knife. She knew how particular Gale was with his knives.

Tara sat on the counter, tail swishing as she watched the thief clean and return the knife to its block. “I know you haven't been sleeping either,” the tressym said, “what with constantly waking up sick the last few nights. Go lie down.”

Devi frowned at the idea of taking orders from the winged cat. “I'm honestly all right,” she started to say. “I don't feel–”

She blinked as a paw batted at her arm. “You clearly are not all right,” Tara scolded. “And I'll not have Mr. Dekarios fretting over if you're getting enough rest while you’re so obviously ill. He's made it quite clear that he cares a great deal about you.” The tressym shifted her weight, then jumped onto Devi’s shoulders, making her stagger with a little grunt at the weight of a heavy winged cat perching on her. “To bed with you, Deviali.”

“It’s Devi,” the thief muttered. “What about if I just sit and read or–”

Tara growled threateningly.

Devi sighed, admitting defeat. “Fine, I’m going.” She wouldn’t ever admit it to Tara, but she was tired, after four mornings of waking up sick before the time that she and Gale normally got up. And it was impossible to quietly vomit, as she’d figured out the hard way – Gale was always at her side within a minute of her lunging out of bed, holding her hair back and looking at her with open concern in his eyes. “What do you care about me?” the half-Elf asked the tressym as she started making her way to the bedroom, with a longing glance at her violin. “You don’t seem to like me as it is.”

Seemingly noticing which way Devi’s eyes went, Tara lightly smacked the side of her face with her paw to make her focus on going to bed. “My opinions are moot. Mr. Dekarios adores you, which means that it becomes my duty to look after you like I do him. I’ve looked after that wizard since he was a boy – I’m not about to fly off because he picked you.” She settled across the back of Devi’s neck, like an oversized, winged scarf. “And if I don’t look after you, then it becomes the dog’s job to tend to you, and he is not a suitable caretaker.”

“Scratch is perfectly fine,” Devi protested, obligated to defend what she had come to think of as ‘her’ dog since the day he’d shown up in camp. “And he doesn’t try to nursemaid me or anything–”

“My point exactly. You’re obviously ill, and dogs, while loyal, do not understand taking care of two-legged creatures with no self-preservation instincts.”

“... I have perfectly fine self-preservation instincts,” Devi grumbled as she entered the bedroom and sat down on her side of the bed.

“That’s not the impression I got from hearing Mr. Dekarios’ stories about you during your little adventure,” Tara disagreed. She hopped down from Devi’s shoulders, then settled on the thief’s lap, giving her a pointed look. “If I have to make you lie down…”

Devi thought about arguing with the cat, then saw Tara warningly flex her front paws, revealing sharp claws under her fur, and thought better of it. “I can’t believe I just lost an argument with you,” she complained, laying down and curling up on her side.

Tara’s tail twitched in an almost smug manner. “Please feel free to ask Mr. Dekarios why he doesn’t pick fights with me anymore.” She climbed up onto Devi’s hip and started kneading the half-Elf through her trousers. “Ugh, you’re far too thin still. Is Mr. Dekarios not feeding you sufficiently?”

“If Gale could feed me himself, he would,” Devi muttered. “It’s hard to eat when everything he makes, no matter how good, keeps coming back up.”

“If you wake up sick again tomorrow,” Tara mused, “I’m going to have to tell him to fetch a cleric or visit an apothecary. Then again, perhaps he’ll bring something home tonight for you to feel better.” She jumped down to the mattress and, to Devi’s surprise, curled up against the thief’s stomach. “You are not to move from this bed until Mr. Dekarios returns home this evening, and you do not want to know what the consequences will be if you disobey me. Are we understood?”

“I’m being bullied into taking a nap by a tressym,” Devi groused, and promptly got batted by one of Tara’s wings. “Ow!”

“Somebody has to ensure that you rest and recover, if you’re not going to look after yourself.” Tara’s vivid eyes met Devi’s without blinking. “Now, I will allow you to offer scratches to my ears, just this once. Do not get used to it.”

Devi eyed the tressym for a moment, then slowly reached to slowly pet the top of Tara’s head, rubbing behind her ears. She was quickly rewarded with the low rumble of a pleased purr, vibrating against her stomach. Despite the half-Elf’s reluctance to take a nap, the feeling of curling up in bed with a large cat – or tressym – snuggled up against her upset stomach did feel very soothing. She sighed, then let her eyes drift closed, and felt Tara’s purring grow a little louder, as though the tressym approved. “You’re still the worst,” she muttered.

“Likewise, Deviali,” Tara smugly said, her purring never stopping. “Go to sleep.”

“It’s Devi,” the thief grumbled, even if part of her knew that the tressym would always use her despised full name, until the day Devi married Gale and took his last name for her own. Then it would probably become “Mrs. Dekarios”.

That actually has a nice ring to it, she thought as she felt herself slowly drift away into sleep, lulled by the sounds of Tara's purring.

—

Gale frowned slightly as he entered his tower, expecting to be greeted on his return home. The only lifeform to welcome him was Scratch, curled up by the fireplace; the dog looked up and thumped his tail against the floor, tongue lolling out of his mouth happily. “Where’s Devi, hmm?” the wizard asked, kneeling to give the dog a scratch behind the ears.

Scratch wuffed, then set his head back down on his front paws. “Upstairs,” he said – Gale, once again, was grateful for the spell that let him speak with animals. “She’s been upstairs with Tara all day.”

That got a small wince from Gale – he almost wondered if there had been bloodshed in his home during his absence. “Good boy, Scratch,” he said, standing back up and making his way through the tower. It was suspiciously quiet in his residence: no Tara trotting or flying up to see him with a meow of greeting, no sounds of Devi playing her violin, no pretty half-Elf emerging from a doorway with a smile on her face to see her betrothed. He sighed, wondering if Devi and Tara had managed to kill each other while he’d been stuck all day with his wizarding colleagues. “Devi?” he lowly called out. “Tara?”

No sign of Tara anywhere – perhaps she was out hunting pigeons again. But Devi should have been here. Gale poked his head into the common room, then into his study – no sign of his favourite thief in either room, besides the violin resting on a table beside the window. Perhaps the bedroom, then? Gods knew that she hadn’t been resting well, with waking up sick every morning the past few days. He could only pray that the potions in his satchel, purchased from the apothecary only an hour ago, would cure whatever was wrong with her. He approached the bedroom door, only slightly ajar, and gently pushed it open. “Have you seen –” he started to say as he looked in – a second later, he went silent, his eyes softening. “Oh.”

On the bed, Tara looked up from where she was curled against a sleeping Devi, the tip of her tail swishing before her nose. “Not a word from you about this compromising position,” she quietly said, ears tilting back slightly. “It was the only way to make sure she rested. She was ill again this afternoon while you were gone.”

“Again?” Gale frowned worriedly as he sat on the edge of the bed; Tara stood up and stretched, then climbed up onto his shoulders, curling up around his neck and purring away. “Thank you for looking after her, Tara – I know you disapprove of her, but I love her.”

“I know you do. And it is good to see you happy with her, Mr. Dekarios.” Tara carefully adjusted her wings so she wouldn’t hit Gale in the back of the head with the large appendages. “She’s slept the last two hours after being ill again. You did stop at an apothecary for something to cure her, yes?”

“I did – and I’ve been assured that the potions I bought should fix anything.” The wizard carefully leaned down to Devi’s face, pressing gentle kisses over her forehead, her eyes, her cheek. “Hello, my love,” he murmured as Devi started to stir. “Did you sleep well?”

Devi’s eyes slowly opened as she looked up at Gale; her lips pulled up in a smile once she recognized him. “Hey, you,” she quietly said, reaching up to kiss him. “Welcome home.”

Gale smiled fondly as he returned Devi’s kiss, stroking his hand through her long hair. “And it feels the most like home when you’re here to grace it with your presence,” he softly chuckled. “Are you feeling better? Tara mentioned you were ill again.”

“Traitor,” Devi muttered, frowning up at the smug tressym, before slowly sitting up. “I… think I’m all right? At least for–” She froze, eyes widening as her hand settled on her stomach. “... Shit.”

Instinct had Gale stand up and get the hell out of Devi’s way, a second before she was on her feet and fleeing to the water closet. He frowned, worry becoming full-fledged anxiety as he started fishing around in his satchel for a potion. “Tara, can you stay with her for another minute while I get her some water?”

Tara was off his shoulders and flying after Devi almost before he’d finished speaking. “Do hurry, Mr. Dekarios,” she called back. “I am not an expert on half-Elves, but something is certainly wrong.”

#bg3 fic #bg3 #post-epilogue #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #gale dekarios #Deviali #tara the tressym #tara was fun to write #her and devi bickering pleases me #as much as Tara being a reluctant mother to Devi #also... oh Devi that isn't a stomach flu you've got going on #for the record #this has been sitting in my inbox since 11 November 2017 #oldest prompt that's been waiting for me #Kel answers prompts a million years later #Kel writes

31 notes · View notes

writeforfandoms · 2 years

Text

How Did You Love 5

Find my masterlist and series masterlist

Okay so I have been sitting on this chapter for a hot minute. I’m working on getting caught up with everything that’s actually done and ready to release into the world. So. We finally have an update! I’m sorry it’s taken so long. I hope Ezra and Thief are good enough to forgive me.

Also of note: the little village described is supposed to be Holly Village, Highgate, London.

Warnings: swearing, brief allusions to loss, charming men, brief food porn.

Word count: 2.5k

f!reader

A knock from the door finally prompted you to get out of bed, and you threw on a pair of jeans as you made your way to the front door. The knock came again, a little more insistent this time.

You didn't even bother asking who it was. Presumably it was one of the men, and that was fine.

You pulled the door open to reveal Ezra, hair extra ruffled this morning, grinning for all the world like a very satisfied cat. He had two paper bags in one hand, and a carry-out drink tray in the other.

"Did I rouse you? I can come back later if now is not a good time." His smile dimmed only a little.

But you didn't respond, instead reaching out to run gentle fingers over his left arm. It was whole, and there, and apparently didn't hurt. You looked from his arm to his face and back, mind whirling.

Ezra's expression shuttered a little. He was still grinning, still looked pleasant, but something in his eyes was dark. "Is there a reason you find that appendage so fascinating?"

"I don't…" You paused, uncertain how to continue. "Come inside. Please." You took the drink carrier from him, ushering him inside. The door shut after the two of you with a click.

"What happened?" The question was short but not unkind, his eyes sweeping over you more thoroughly.

You sighed and set the drinks on the kitchen counter. "I had a dream last night."

"What were the contents of this dream?"

"You. I dreamed that you were… somewhere very strange, with these… things floating in the air. You were in a tent, and your arm…" You trailed off, biting your lip.

Ezra was silent for several moments, placing the bags on the counter with care. He nodded once, slowly.

"My memories of the Green are clear, up to a point," he said, watching you carefully. "I do recall taking refuge in a tent. Had a functional scrubber, at least. I had been injured in an… unexpected altercation. Dust got in the wound. Nasty stuff, that. Even worse if it gets in the lungs, you know."

"I'm sorry, I don't know." You hadn't thought it possible, but you were even more confused now.

"Well, I suppose this is as good a place as any to start with my questions." Ezra sat, pulling the drink tray to him and starting to set out breakfast. "The kind woman at the bakery suggested tea to go with our delights, but when I failed to know how you take your tea, she saw fit to send me with options." He pulled off lids to reveal two still-steaming teas (breakfast by the smell), one milk, and a bunch of different sugar and sweetener packets.

You fixed your tea how you liked it and took a sip before looking at him. "I'm very curious why you thought that would be a good place to start with questions."

He shot you a grin, though it still didn't reach his eyes. "I had wondered if this was all some strange dream," he admitted, following your lead with the tea and taking a sip. After a moment of consideration, he added another sugar. "I've never been to the original Terra before, dove, so I've no basis for comparison."

"Original Terra?" You froze with your tea mid-way to your mouth. "No. No way."

His smile went a little crooked. "I see you're catching on quick."

"But we haven't done space travel yet!" You whisper-yelled. "What do you– how is this–"

"Don't forget to breathe."

You put your tea down very carefully. "Ezra. Please. What is going on?"

Ezra hummed, taking a long sip of his own tea and watching you squirm with impatience. "Much better than the stuff I get on transports, to be quite honest."

"Ezra."

He chuckled and held one hand up, palm out. "Apologies, just attempting to get amusement where I can. My current theory is that this is not my reality."

You let that sink in for a few moments as Ezra went digging through the bags, pulling out scones in different flavors, jam, clotted cream, butter, the works.

"Where were you, before this?" You reached for a scone, watching Ezra follow your lead. You went straight for the lemon curd and clotted cream, handing them over to him after you were done.

"I was on the Green Moon. Awful place, if I do say so, but there's good prospecting there. Or there was, during the rush. Not so much when I was stuck there." He shrugged and took a bite of his scone. His eyes went wide, like he'd just discovered his new favorite thing. "Kevva this is good."

You chuckled. "Good scones are amazing, and these are very good scones." You took a bite of your own, trying to figure out where to start with the questions. Then you ditched that idea. "What questions did you want to ask me?"

"Well, one you have already answered. Do you know how I was brought here?"

"Not a clue." You shrugged.

"And the why?"

"I'm going with the assumption that Nova was telling the truth about the why, and that I'm meant to start… building relationships." You shrugged again, helplessly. "I don't have any better explanation for you than that."

He nodded, taking his time chewing his next bite of scone. At least he was enjoying it. "Have you ever heard of aurelac?"

"Nope."

"And there's no space travel?"

"We can get ourselves to the moon and back, but it's expensive as hell and requires years of training."

Ezra hummed acknowledgement of that, slathering the other half of his scone in jam. "What year is it?"

At this point, you weren't even surprised by the question, and told him. He nodded, gaze flickering around as he apparently did some kind of quick mental calculations.

"Well, this certainly is quite a different time and place from what I have become accustomed." He smiled, something sad lingering in his eyes. "I fear there are many things here I may not be familiar with, dove."

You smiled, reaching across the table with your free hand to take his. "That's okay. We've got time to figure things out. You can always ask me about things. Probably at least a couple of the others, too."

"Mighty kind of you indeed." He squeezed your hand lightly. "You best be careful with that kindness, or someone will take advantage of it."

"Wouldn't be the first time, honestly." You shrugged and released him to grab the butter. "Besides, we're currently all stuck here now, so we just have to learn to live with it."

Ezra chuckled. "Adaptability is a great trait," he agreed. "One which I have employed a great many times before."

"That I don't doubt." You brushed some crumbs from your cheek and wrinkled your nose at your fingers. "Tell me more about this Green Moon? And prospecting?"

Ezra launched into telling you all about prospecting. He described the process of harvesting aurelac, using extra scones and containers as props. He told you about the Green Moon, and the toxic dust, and the suits that had to be worn at all times outside. He told you about how his former crew marooned him there.

Breakfast had long since been finished and the trash tossed by the time he finished. The two of you had migrated closer together until you were sitting knee to knee with him.

"Wow," you finally breathed. "That's…"

"Unbelievable?" His lips twisted into a wry smile.

"Incredible," you shot back. "Absolutely incredible. Just. Traveling to other worlds." You snorted. "We must seem so quaint."

"On the contrary, I find I quite like this mode of living." His smile softened a little.

You smiled and finally stood. "I understand why you'd have so many questions. Like I said, if I can help…"

"Like I told you, that is a very dangerous offer," Ezra purred, standing as well and rounding the counter to stop in front of you. Two fingers gently tipped your chin towards him, and you grew warm under his gaze.

"Habit," you tried to deflect, watching him. You felt a little apprehension, a little excitement, but nothing bad, rather to your surprise. No fear, despite everything he had told you.

"Well, your habit may just get you into trouble. For instance, it would help me greatly if I could kiss you." Ezra leaned closer, watching you closely, fingers still gentle against your skin.

The doorbell rang.

The both of you froze. Ezra was mere inches from your face, his expression twisting into something annoyed when the doorbell rang again.

"Excuse me," you murmured, taking a step back and then walking to the door. Dave gave you a quick once-over when you opened the door, a quick flick of his gaze that felt more clinical than anything.

"Fox was looking for you," he offered as explanation. "I didn't realize you were… busy."

"Oh, thank you." You smiled a little. "Do you want to come in? I need to grab my shoes."

Dave nodded and followed you back inside. He nodded once to Ezra.

"I'll just be a moment." And you fled up the stairs to get your shoes, still feeling flustered.

Ezra had almost kissed you. And you… you would have let him.

Taking a deep breath, you pulled your shoes on and took your time going back downstairs. Everything was okay. You were supposed to get attached to the guys, after all.

"I'm ready." You smiled at both of them.

"Mind if I accompany you, dove?" Ezra kept his gaze on you.

"Sure, you can come too." You smiled encouragingly at him and then nodded to Dave. Dave held the door for you and then led the way through the property to another house. The door was already open, and Fox looked up from the kitchen table as you all entered. Well, as you and Ezra entered. Dave simply nodded to you and went on his way.

You really wondered about him. Sometime soon, you needed to make time to talk to him.

"I was hoping I'd catch you," Fox murmured, gaze flicking between you and Ezra. He had a little more gray in his hair, something you found rather attractive, honestly. "You too, Ezra."

Ezra looked intrigued now, which… honestly? Same.

"I wanted to do some exploring today," Fox said. "Test a theory, as it were."

"Okay," you agreed easily. "Did you have something in mind?"

"I do indeed." His smile was sly and amused, but amused with you, not at you.

Which is how you found yourself wandering High Gate with Ezra and Fox. The area was beautiful, more residential than commercial, with lovely architecture and plenty of greenery. You breathed deeply as you walked, enjoying the fresh air and the gentle sounds of life around you.

"Have you been this way before?" Ezra asked as the three of you walked. You were currently walking the perimeter of a park, one man on either side of you.

"Not this way, no. I came from the other direction and stumbled on that little… village, I guess you could call it." You shrugged, tucking your hands in your pockets. You realized you'd forgotten your phone in your room, but, well… you didn't really need it here, did you?

"So this is something of an adventure for you as well." Ezra smiled at you.

You couldn't resist smiling back. "Very true," you agreed. "I do like adventures. Little ones, at least."

"How little?" Fox asked, stepping in close to you to let another pedestrian pass.

"Well… as long as I'm not in danger or anything… I'm open to pretty much anything." You shrugged. "This is the first time I'm taking a big trip by myself, so I guess that's a pretty big adventure."

Fox chuckled quietly, one hand settling low on your back to gently guide you across the street before dropping again. "At least you chose a country where you speak the language."

You laughed. "No kidding. I figured this would be enough for one trip." You paused and swallowed. You hadn't even really thought about future trips. Planning this one had been painful enough.

Ezra caught your arm in his, tucking you in close. "Well, I just admire your choice of location," he started. "Rarely have I seen such a lovely mix of man and nature. Most of what I have seen has been much more dominated by one or the other."

You chuckled, grateful for his distraction. "Not all of London looks like this, but this area is particularly beautiful."

"Right up here is where I acquired the scones this morning," Ezra told you, nodding across the street.

Fox grinned. "Scones, huh?"

"They were really good scones." You licked your lips just thinking about them. Mmm.

"I'll have to try them sometime." Fox stuck close behind you as you and Ezra crossed the street again. "Do you know how long we'll be here?"

You shook your head, a little sheepish. "No, not yet. I meant to talk to Nova about it, but I just haven't had time to call them."

"Maybe tonight you'll have time," Fox suggested.

"I hope so." You knew exactly where your list of questions was. Now you just needed time to stop and talk to Nova.

Fox hummed, sounding somehow smug. When you looked at him, he even looked smug.

"What?" You asked, a little suspicious.

"Nothing, nothing." He waved it off. "Just making a mental note."

"Of what?" You couldn't help the note of suspicion in your voice. He was a little too smug - it was making you self-conscious.

He must have realized, because he backtracked. "This is farther than I was able to come the first night," he said, dipping his head a bit to meet your gaze. "That's all."

"Oh." Your shoulders relaxed again. "Why do you think that is?"

"To be honest, I only have a theory." He stepped behind you again as more pedestrians passed. "I believe it's because this time you're with us."

You mulled that over as the three of you paused at a corner. So far, you'd been content to let Ezra lead, letting him guide your wandering. If all else failed, you could find your way back eventually.

Ezra turned the corner, keeping his arm tucked through yours, his pace languid. But you knew he was paying attention - his head was tipped towards you and Fox.

"You think that traveling with her allows us more freedom to roam than traveling singularly?" Ezra asked, glancing back at Fox.

"That's my theory," Fox agreed with a shrug. "We're farther now than I was able to get, and the only difference is her."

You snorted quietly. "While that is a fascinating theory, I am also right here," you drawled.

"Sorry, dove." Ezra bumped his shoulder into you in gentle apology.

"My apologies." Fox just stepped up next to you to grin, charming and clearly expecting that to be enough.

Dammit, it kind of was.

"Well, since we're out now," you started, quite reasonably. "Might as well keep exploring."

The near identical grins Ezra and Fox wore made you wonder if this was a great idea, or a terrible one.

Taglist (let me know if you want on or off, I know this might not be everyone’s cuppa tea): @saradika @fandom-blackhole @shoopidly @beskarprincessjenny @sarahjkl82-blog @cannedsoupsucks @liviiii98 @adriiibell @seasonschange-butpeopledont @sunnydunnydays @princessxkenobi @thirddeadlysin @pbeatriz @oonajaeadira @kiizhikehn-cedar @green-socks @withakindheartx @linkpk88 @janebby @anditsmywholeheart @evyiione @ohheyitsokay @amneris21 @recklessworry @the-feckless-wonder @myguiltypleasures21 @javierpinme @grogusmum @eri16 @idreamofboobear @pintsizemama @pedrostories @stevie75 @luxmundee @kirsteng42 @alexxavicry @elegantduckturtle @bruxasolta @pjkimrn @jaime1110 @trash-dino-5000 @theanothersherlockian @mandalwhorean @mswarriorbabe80 @lowlights

#how did you love #f!reader #jack daniels #agent whiskey #ezra #ezra prospect #frankie morales #marcus pike #dave york #the thief

64 notes · View notes

the-scifi-blob · 7 months

Text

piece of a Penumbra Podcast fic!

opposite of a meet-cute (meet-heist?), aka Buddy & Vespa's origin story

just the first two scenes, written while procrastinating on studying

“Don’t pout, darling. It’s unbecoming.”

“You—“ Vespa’s so mad she can barely get the words out. Her whole face is likely red by now, and she can feel the handle of her dagger against her hip, her pulse racing frantically beneath it. “You stole from me, you – you big—“ She stutters on her words, trailing off.

“Big what, dear? Hurry up now, we haven’t got all day.”

Across the dirty bar table, Buddy Aurinko taps her fingers against whiskey-stained wood. Her nails are perfectly manicured, and if Vespa glances up, she’ll be sure to see Buddy’s dark-red-rouged-lips quirked upward in amusement.

The woman is dangerously perfect. She reminds Vespa of that Saturnite movie star (what was her name? Heplin? Auburn?) who’d starred in the first and last romantic comedy she’d ever watched, back on Ranga five years ago. The actress had been in her heyday at the time, with wide doe-eyes and curling hair, but Vespa hasn’t really kept up with her career since. There are no movie theaters in Outer Rim prisons, after all.

Besides, it’s not like Vespa has any time for movies these days. Or dangerously perfect women.

“You know, I really thought you’d be able to use that mouth of yours more creatively.” Buddy leans forward, her wavy red hair falling into her left eye. “You certainly weren’t holding back last night.”

Her single visible eye glimmers in the light. The bar they’re sitting in has dirty lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling, a cheap attempt at decor, but when Buddy Aurinko leans forward, the glow catches on the curves of her face, and makes her red hair look like flames.

“That’s–” Vespa feels her face heat up. Goddamnit. This situation really isn’t doing any favors for Vespa’s cardiovascular health. She gives her thigh a hefty snap-out-of-it pinch under the table. “Stop trying to distract me, you thief!”

“Thief? That’s a rather mighty accusation.” Buddy leans back, and the effect disappears; the dim bar lighting throws half her face into shadows. The other half pulls into a smirk. “This wouldn’t be a continuation of yesterday’s roleplay, would it? Handcuffs aren’t usually my cup of tea, but I’m willing to make an exception if–”

“My score!” Vespa shouts too octaves too high. “You took my score after we had sex last night!”

Around them, the few tables peter off into a shocked silence. The smile slips off Buddy’s face.

This whole thing has been a huge mistake. Last night, Vespa had been sitting at her usual dingy underground bar after work, sipping her usual disgusting beer from a red-rusted metal cup. (Everything tastes a little like rust on Mars. Even after a month, Vespa’s still not used to it.)

Then a shadow had appeared to her right, and years of training had her fingers darting to the butcher’s knife hidden at her belt – until she’d turned, and almost spit her beer onto the most striking red hair she’d encountered. Buddy Aurinko’s hair, tied into an updo, had looked like fire. Even after months on this rusted-over desert of a planet, the view was welcome.

Strangely familiar, too, although the nagging deja-vu was quickly shunted to the back of her mind.

“Are – are you looking for something?” she’d stuttered at the woman, face flaming.

“Isn’t everyone?” Buddy had drawled, leaning in as her fingers danced little patterns on Vespa’s chair. “What are you looking for, gorgeous?”

One thing had led to another. All of it a huge mistake. Vespa’s fatal flaw, apparently, is beautiful and mysterious women. She’d rolled awake the next morning to an empty bed and piano score missing from the floor beside her mattress, a face-down business card in its place. Same time, same place? it had read.

She’d flipped the card. Aurinko Correctional Facilities, and the memories had come pouring back: the alarms going off, the click of her cell door unlocking, the fan of red hair she’d followed to a tenth floor fire escape, and then finally to the outside world.

She’d placed, with sudden dread, exactly where she’d met Buddy Aurinko the first time.

The prison warden’s daughter. The one who’d pulled the Aurinko Correctional Facility alarms and masterminded the prison break of a lifetime. The unlikely source of her freedom -- who had somehow, strangely, tracked her all the way to this Martian dumpster.

“Give it back,” Vespa growls. Well–-tries to growl, and hopes her voice doesn’t sound too much like a petulant whine.

“Careful, Ms. Ilkay.” Immediately, Buddy’s face is more guarded. “An underground bar in the Cerberus Province isn’t a good place to draw attention. This place is crawling with thieves and criminal runaways.” Her eyes are still shining as they skim the bar’s crowd. She’s elegant as ever, but Vespa spots the miniscule tensing of her shoulders. Vespa hasn’t spent years as an assassin, in the old life she’d left behind, without being able to catch every one of her opponents’ tells.

“Guess we fit right in, then,” Vespa grumbles, slumping lower in her seat.

“Depends how you read things. I’m the warden’s daughter, and I let you walk. So you’re not really a runaway, are you? And I don’t typically charge for my services, but.” She clicks her pristine nails against the tabletop again. “I’ll consider that score your gift of gratitude. I’m quite a fan of piano compositions.”

“Giving me my freedom is not a service. I don’t owe you my music.”

“Oh, not for that!” Buddy clicks her tongue. “I’m no Board of Fresh Starts body trader. Lives aren’t for sale.” Her fingers inch forward again, tapping a rhythm on the table by Vespa’s elbow. “No, the score is an advance payment for what I’m about to give you.”

“And what exactly would I want from a solar planet brat?”

“A job,” Buddy says.

Vespa blinks at her. “What.”

“A job. You’re a good medic, from what I’ve seen over the past few months. You’re smart—enough to see past all my father’s tricks at the Aurinko Correctional Facility. Plus you’re a specialized assassin from Ranga, which means you know how to fight. Even if I haven’t seen you in action.” In the strange lighting, Buddy’s lips twist into something that could be mistaken for disappointment. “You’re bored at your current job, aren’t you? I’d be bored if I were a trained assassin who had to sit around nursing people’s hangovers all day.”

“...You’ve been following me?”

“Of course! What type of crime boss would I be if I didn’t scout my talent?”

“You.” Vespa scoffs. “A crime boss.”

“I’m recruiting you to be my partner in crime, darling, not a parrot.”

“Look.” Vespa sighs. “I don’t know what joke you’re trying to pull, but the Cerberus Province isn’t a place for somebody like you.” She looks pointedly at Buddy Aurinko’s manicured nails, and her silk dress that screams Venus craftsmanship. “It’s dangerous to stay out here too long, and not just because there aren’t any radiation shields.” She swallows, looking away from the woman in front of her, who’s likely spent her life in shimmering places vastly different from the Martian desert outskirts. “Go home, okay? That’s the best advice I can give you.”

It’s the wrong thing to say. Immediately, Buddy’s eyes darken. She lifts up the hem of her silk dress, revealing a black strap along her thigh, and a string of knives and handguns. That’s hot, Vespa thinks, then immediately squashes down the thought like it’s a wayward beetle. “Well. It’s a good thing I take advice about as well as a cat takes to water. I don’t appreciate condescension, Vespa.” She lets the dress drop, morphing back into a wealthy socialite. “Seeing as I enjoyed last night, though, I’ll forgive you this once.” Rising from the table, she throws another business card down on the table. “We’ll continue this conversation in two days. Someplace less crowded.”

“I haven’t agreed to anything,” Vespa says, when she finds her voice again.

“Not yet. You’ll find that I can be very persuasive, darling.” Buddy winks, then turns, the dress swishing and sparkling and turning heads behind her. It takes another two minutes after her disappearance for Vespa to shake herself from stupor and down the rest of her lukewarm beer.

Another five to realize that she’d forgotten to demand her piano score: the entire reason she’d dragged herself here for a dangerous second dose of Buddy Aurinko.

Life in the Cerberus Province is… well. It’s life, which means most days are no better than a pile of Martian rabbit shit.

Vespa works at one of the government-underfunded pop-up clinics at the edge of town. It’s as terrible as it sounds; she spends her time bandaging up the bar-fight wounds of drunk thieves in their sixties, and doing her best to avoid their whiskey breath while she works. Sometimes, the screams of runaways from the Board of Fresh Starts will pierce the air – moments before they come barreling past security and into the clinic, their filtration bracelets flashing red, bodies already half-melted by radiation.

She isn’t allowed to touch the Board runaways. Government policy.

At night, she returns to a small two-room apartment, where her mattress sits in the opposite corner from the kitchen stove, and a door on the left wall opens to a tiny bathroom. It’s small, the heating scarce, and there’s a bar downstairs whose noise spills through the walls at night. The rent is atrocious. But it’s still a room in a concrete building, far enough underground to avoid the worst of the solar radiation.

Living like this, she’ll last another five years. Probably.

Sighing, Vespa toes off her shoes at the apartment entryway. Red dust puffs into her face. She coughs it out. “Stupid desert,” she mutters under her breath.

The eggs, she discovers when she pulls them from the fridge and tries to crack them into a frying pan, a half-hearted attempt at dinner, have started to fry in their shells. A white lump flops into the vegetable oil. “Stupid radiation,” Vespa mutters. She pulls a dagger from the scabbard at her hip, stabbing at the mess until it bursts.

As she cooks, she can feel the edges of the card Buddy had left on the bar top digging into the front of her thigh through the fabric of her pocket. It feels heavier than paper ought to be, but Vespa thinks maybe that’s just because she still can’t get those stupid shimmery eyes and flaming red hair out of her head.

Aurinko Correctional Facilities, the business card reads in a sleek sans serif typeface—but Buddy has scratched out the printed text with blue ink, and written in the margins, in a loopy cursive messier than Vespa would have expected: welcome to the Aurinko crime family. There’s an address underneath, and then a time. Tomorrow, 8pm.

When she’d first read it, Vespa had noted the strange way Buddy Aurinko wrote the ‘f’ of family—the end of the letter curling leftward in a little scroll-like spiral.

It’s a stupid thing to notice.

Ten minutes later, Vespa is seated on the floor beside her mattress, spearing pieces of scrambled egg with her dagger. “Stupid eggs,” she mutters when a piece flops onto her shit-green army pants. She daggers it and pops it in her mouth anyway. It tastes metallic, which should trouble Vespa more than it does.

Radiation sickness is inevitable in the Cerberus Province. Vespa knew this, but her stubborn ass had still jumped onto the first ship to Mars after the mass breakout from Aurinko Correctional Facilities — courtesy of Buddy Aurinko, self-proclaimed rebel and daughter of the warden. After ten years in that psychological hellhole, she’d been desperate to get as far away from the Outer Rim as possible.

Part of her wonders what she’s even trying to do here. It’s not like she’s accomplishing much with her freedom: Just work and household chores and more work, in a dry and endless cycle. Averting her eyes from radiation burns and blood filtration bracelets when she’s at the clinic. Turning into a lovely solar radiation slow-roast when she’s at home. She didn’t grow up with any far-fetched romantic aspirations for her own life, but still … her ten-year-old self would probably scoff at the life she’s leading now.

If only her father could see her.

As soon as the thought crosses her mind, nausea grips her stomach. She puts her plate down, taking deep breaths until it subsides.

It’s been over a decade since she’s last seen him. She hasn’t once gone back to the wooden shed they’d shared, at the edge of Ranga’s second largest swamp – although the shadows of that first home seem to dog her heels wherever she goes. You don’t grow up in the Rangian swamps without expecting to start survival training at age six and be dead by thirty-five.

Now that she’s out of that place, with more time on her hands than she’d ever thought she could have, she can still feel the ghosts of Ranga all around her, like a grip she doesn’t know how to break. Whispering – often in her father’s voice – that even if she were to make it to the bustling center of the solar system, she’d feel no happier, no less alone, than she does right now.

At least here, everybody calls her by her name. Nobody looks at her twice when she steps into the women’s restrooms, and nobody even bats their third eye at her green hair or tattoos. She’s spent her whole life yearning for this type of anonymity. Now that she has it… well, she’ll take what she’s given without complaint.

A cockroach hops two inches from her foot. Nose wrinkling, she squashes it with the blunt handle of her dagger. Gross. Well, maybe a little complaint.

When she’s done with the eggs, she rises, scrubbing off her dishes in the rust-caked sink before setting them by the stove to dry. Then–only because the edge of the card is cutting into her thigh, irritating her to no end–she digs it out of her pocket, and flips it over again to the side with Buddy’s messy scrawl ruining the typeface.

welcome to the Aurinko crime family, it still reads. The ‘f’ of family is still as ridiculously frilly as Vespa remembers. And…Vespa isn’t stupid enough to trust a rich solar heiress like Buddy Aurinko. She traces the letter with her calloused left thumb, though, and thinks about that pesky leak in her bathroom roof, and the Martian dust she can’t seem to keep off her floors and furniture, and the way all her work days have seemed to blend together into an endlessly bleak stretch of time as of late.

She’s got no idea what Buddy is really after. But whatever it is – it can’t be any worse than what Vespa’s already been through. Can it?

#the penumbra fandom #buddy aurinko #vespa ilkay #canon compliant (I think?) up until s3 #lots of juno to catch up on hehe

2 notes · View notes