#average Lance behaviour
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Good whatever-time-of-the-day-is-over-there. Here's a new thing. I played a little with their characterisation in this one. Stay safe out there. Enjoy 💜
Lance is bothered. And what's worse, Fernando is bothered that Lance is bothered. Not that caring about someone is wrong or strange and, while personally it isn't his MO, neither is caring about your teammates.
No, Fernando cares because of reasons that are still not clear. And that's what is driving him mad. And also the frown on Lance's face, but he'll face one problem at a time.
First point on the list, why does he care about this kid.
It had been easy signing the contract, even when Lawrence had heavily hinted at his mentor's duties.
He obviously had heard about Lawrence's son, about his achievements in the minor categories, and his average results in Formula 1.
And he couldn't escape the rumours about his rich spoiled kid behaviour, his lack of a strong personality or his evident disinterest in the sport.
Hell, he had even met the guy in the paddock before arriving at Aston Martin.
And then he met Lance, with his goofy smile, his sweet personality, his seriousness about the job, the fire that burnt when getting inside the car and the evident hard created persona for the media that completely melted when in private, the spark of a prankster spirit with Mick and Esteban.
(Ugh, he already couldn't stand the Frenchman when they were teammates, and now it was even worse when he saw how close the two young men were.)
The point is, when he started he didn't think highly of baby Stroll, and now here he is, knocking on the door of Lance's hotel room, because there is something wrong with the Canadian, and that meant Fernando cares because. Just. Because.
So, here he is, ready to find out what's going on.
He hears some muffled words behind the door, and then it's opened by Lance, his hair really messy and his shorts really short.
He is slowly losing his mind, when the younger one starts talking.
"Hey, Fernando. Do you come here often?" he says, languid and with those big doe eyes of his.
Fernando is completely baffled. They don't flirt, that's not how they are. He is usually the one that lightly teases Lance, just to see him blushing, and jokes around, just to see his smile and make sure that he is happy, but nothing more than that. He doesn't understand this sudden change.
Lance must see his confusion on his face, because he chuckles and shakes his head.
"Sorry, just the painkillers, they are kicking my ass. Also I'm tired as fuck and I'm really thirsty" he says, with an adorable snort.
Lance isn't exactly shy, but he has always seemed to like keeping to himself, and to contribute to a conversation rather than starting it. All this openness and honesty are very surprising, and somehow even a little bit worrying.
"Don't worry. You ok?"
And Fernando is winning dumbest person ever, because the answer is staring right at him, eyes glassy and unnaturally red cheeks, the aura of sweat and sick all over Lance. But the younger doesn't stop smiling.
"Yeah, it's all good, just high temperature and sore wrists"
And that's what Fernando had first noticed. Lance had been particularly careful with his wrists all day, never actually wrapping them in bandages, but massaging and rubbing them continuously, discomfort clear on his face.
ok, now you know, now you can leave he thinks, but something won't make him move. He had always been attentive, after all.
"You have a fever?" he asks, starting to worry.
Lance shrugs, but everything about him is screaming tired and sick.
"It's nothing serious, really" as he says this, Lance has to grip the door because of the sudden dizziness.
Fernando, now seriously worrying, just stares at him, until the other sighs.
"Ok, it may be a little bit serious, but everything is fine. I just need some sleep. Goodnight" and goes to close the door, but Fernando is faster. He puts his foot in between the door and its frame.
"Let me help you" he simply says.
He finds himself being looked through as if he was inconsistent by Lance's unfocused eyes. And then they refocus, and they are starting deep into his soul.
"Why?" Lance says simply, and Fernando feels like this is a test. Lance won't let him in if he fails, and Fernando has no intention of failing.
"Can see you're not well. Want to help. Because... I care" the admission tears something in him, something that has been hardened after all the years on track. Something that starts feeling warm and light and bright when Lance smiles softly and lets him in.
He enters and then closes the door, leaving behind the last vestiges of embarrassment and doubt. He has a job, a mission, and he won't make mistakes nor disappoint.
Looking around, the only sign of life is the crumpled blanket on the couch.
"You were sleeping on that?" ask Fernando, looking at the small sofa and his tall teammate.
"It was closer to the door" answers the other, shrugging again.
"Must have been uncomfortable" because even if it was of the right size, which it wasn't, it still looks stiff and leather cold.
"What's a little more pain when your whole body tingles and your wrists feel on fire?"
It's the simplicity with which Lance speaks, as if nothing bothers him, as if pain is inevitable and he shouldn't complain. That doesn't sit right with Fernando. Lance deserves the world's softest blankets, its warmest beds and its coziest socks. Fernando could give him everything. Fernando wants to give him everything. That's terrifying. But admitting it is also freeing, somehow.
soul shattering revelations later, nurse duty now he thinks, not without fondness.
Fernando follows Lance to his bed, and when the taller man just falls into the bed, not bothering with his clothes or the sheets, Nando realises he's going to have to work hard. He's always loved a good challenge.
Fernando reaches for the other's luggage, easily finding his pajama and fresh underwear. Then he returns to the side of the bed.
"Now, get up. Take a shower, dry, new clothes and bed. Can you do it?"
He infuses a bit of a challenge at the end, just to rile the man up.
What he doesn't expect is Lance's laugh at his words.
"Dude, I can't feel my legs. I'm not gonna reach the bathroom on them. I think I'll just skip everything and just go to bed" he says, burrowing further into the covers, which still aren't actually covering him.
"Ok, I'll help you" he says, as if it's something they do normally.
Fernando basically drags Lance to the bathroom, sitting him on the closed lid of the toilet. When he looks at Lance's face, he worries. It is redder than before, and his eyes are strangely focused on his arm for no apparent reason.
"Lance, everything ok?" he is starting to feel like a mother hen, but Lance's behaviour is really messing him up. And his answer really doesn't help.
"So strong" says Lance, completely spaced out and lightly stroking his bicep.
The caress is absolutely doing nothing to him, no sir.
Fernando gently takes Lance's hand, and waits until his eyes are focused on him.
"It's ok. Just a quick shower and then to bed, no?"
Lance nods, but Fernando can tell he's not completely there. So he quickly removes his clothes, leaving the underwear, and after turning on the water at a lukewarm temperature, he guides him into the bath.
It's not even ten seconds later that Lance starts shaking. Fernando is immediately grabbing his hand.
"What's going on, Lance? What's wrong?"
"The water... Is hot... It hurts" he is shivering and biting his bottom lip so hard Fernando can already see blood.
"Lance I need you to listen to me. The water is not hot. Your body is not feeling it right. Let me wash you and then it's the bed" he says, feeling like he is kicking a puppy, but he knows the lukewarm bath will help Lance in the long run. So he washes him as fast as he can, and then turns off the water. He starts wrapping the younger man in the preheated towel, gentle and careful.
He can see the other is losing himself faster than he'd like. So, when Lance seems dry enough, he wastes no time taking off his boxers and putting on a new pair, without peeking, he swears.
All dressed up, he carries him to the bed, where the other can finally sleep under the covers. He's just about to go get Lance some water, when the other starts.
"Thank you,,, for being here,,, but don't leave,,, it hurts" he says with his eyes closed and a pained frown, his breath moving his chest with a staccato rhythm.
Fernando kneels on the floor, so he is face to face with Lance, and starts stroking his hair.
"Am not leaving. Just going to get some water, then we sleep. I know it hurts, but it's going to be ok. Trust me" and the last sentence came out more like a question, and he worries for a second. Then he sees the other relax before opening his eyes and looking him in the eyes, whispering "Always" and closing them.
Fernando feels a weight lifting from his chest, but also a growing responsibility. For the first time in a while, he isn't scared of committing to whatever this is.
He shakes his head, a soft smile gracing his face, before standing up and retrieving two bottles of water from the mini fridge in the kitchenette.
He deposits them, one on each of the nightstands, and lies on the free side of the bed.
He tries to keep a modicum of distance, but Lance is having none of it. He simply turns towards him, and hugs him, reminding Nando of an overgrown squid.
He is out like a light in five seconds flat.
cute, he thinks, and for the first time in what seems like months of their dance, Fernando allows himself to properly drink Lance's sight, his long eyelashes and his strong nose and his pink mouth, slightly open in his sleep. He allows himself to think about how he likes being with the other man, how he likes to make him laugh, how he can't stand seeing him upset.
He allows himself to simply be, to simply feel whatever he feels for Lance. And it feels good.
#lance stroll#fernando alonso#strollonso#grumpy cat boy x besotted old man#but not quite#more like flirty boi x in denial old man#caring through silent actions may be one of my favourite tropes#just something short and sweet
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I didn't realize Tsunoda was such a divisive person for f1 fans 😭😭
I think he's a bit underrated in the sense that he has solid driving skills and gets overlooked by his teammates that are always brought in to give that leadership role rb doesn't believe he has, but he's overrated because his fanbase is extremely aggressive over him and they sometimes treat him as "aww he's so cute" yk?
but i don't see him driving for rb any time soon, i do think he still needs to grow a bit more and channel his attitude into his driving more (i do think people overreact on his attitude tho, just look at the other 19 drivers they're all adrenaline fueled freaks 💀)
His attitude reminds me a bit of young seb, they were both a bit reckless and careless with their words and you could see the bit of arrogance shining through but i think he's improved a lot
I am, ngl, a bit of a Yuki “hater”. Not for any other reason than I want Toro Rosso to be a proper junior team and he’s taking up one of the few seats that has traditionally been given to rookies. I think any time you have someone who’s there in perpetuity, same as Lance Stroll, the scrutiny becomes more intense. It’s unfair but it’s also natural. More people complain that Yuki doesn’t deserve his seat than complain about Zhou, for example, when imo they’re kind of on the same level driver wise - solid on a good day, not setting the timing sheets alight.
I don’t think he’s a possibility for RB. They put in the work with him for a while, by moving him to Faenza and getting him a mental coach, but I think they’ve made their mind up by now that he’s not what they’re looking for and I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve “quiet quit” on developing him. Regardless, I don’t think he has the skills to get to RB. He could do well hanging out in the lower midfield but there’s enough drivers already doing that, so I don’t see what he would uniquely bring to a team. For that reason I don’t really think he’s underrated.
I think people overreact to all the drivers’ “tempers” in the car. So they swear, big deal. Saying “stop fucking talking to me” is not the same as saying “you are a piece of shit”, the radios are not really directed at the engineers personally, and sometimes that kind of inflection is necessary to get the gravity of the stress across. Drive at 300kph and have someone talking to you or a feeling of instability and see how politely you manage to talk to someone. Yuki may swear a bit more than average but that’s just his personality on adrenaline, Lando’s personality on adrenaline is a whiny bitch. All drivers say they listen back to their radios and cringe. Judging people when you are hearing them at their most vulnerable is…a bit of a take, imo.
I never really had a poor opinion of Yuki until him doing that nonsense in Bahrain. And it was indeed nonsense. For you to careen your €15m piece of equipment, that 100s of people spent thousands of hours building for you, into your teammates €15m piece of equipment that 100s of people spent thousands of hours building for him, because you’re annoyed about a decision made by someone who’s not in the car, for no real gain or loss (no points available), is really poor behaviour. Yes, adrenaline, but if your adrenaline makes you dangerous then you’re in the wrong profession, buddy.
I never found Yuki arrogant at all, I think he’s always come across really matter of fact, quite honest, I love always thought he’s conducted himself really well in interviews etc., but that Bahrain stunt was embarrassing for him. And as for people saying he’s in contention for the RB seat…let him try doing that to Max in an RB20, he would be gone quicker than Gasly.
I agree with you though, I really didn’t think he was divisive until I saw the real crazy come out after the Bahrain incident. I saw a bit of it when deVries was around but Nyck was rude af about Yuki so I understood it. But I didn’t know people had strong opinions on him either way until recently.
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Ranking the Rules of Love Paths
Just my opinion, no intent to cause any beef. Feel free to discuss your own opinions in the notes <3
Lynt - Love seeing that arc in action with him constantly standing up for MC and shutting Anders tf up. For Anders, this is probably the second worst path; he's going after Lynt vindictively, but eventually he gives up.
Lance - I haven't played Lance's path yet, but this made me put it next on my list. I liked seeing him and MC both trying to put each other first and the chemistry they had. Honestly, as much as I love Lynt, this would've been 1st Place if not for how ludicrously, cartoonishly cruel and annoying Anders was in this one. Like, I get it, he's a shit in every path, but this one was just so over the top, and even creepy to a point. That "I could find you a much better suitor" shit made me retch.
Fenn - Fenn was pretty sweet in this, but the path was just average. Not his fault, of course, but even though I liked the path, nothing about it stood out, including Anders' behaviour. Was a hell of an intro to what we'd be dealing with in the later paths though.
Grayson - WhY dOeSn'T hE lOvE mE aNyMoRe?!?!? He'S nOt PaYiNg mE aNy AtTenTiOn!!!! I'm gOinG tO PERISH!!!!!! MC made this path intolerable for me. What are you, a middle schooler? Christ. Take a chill pill. If you're that insecure in your relationship, maybe try communicating your woes? If that doesn't work, counselling?? If that won't work either, why the hell are you with him????? Grayson was reasonable in this for the most part, but again, communication is key, people.
Anyway, lemme know your favourite and least favourite paths too. Boy, am I glad to be rid of Anders... The reward outfit is hella cute tho.
#court of darkness#court of darkness voltage#rules of love#rules of love event#just my opinion#it's cool if you don't like it or had another fav
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Cast Of Characters
Beneath the read more is an image and short description of some important/interesting characters living in the world of kin-origins! I can't wait to introduce you all to them!
Lance Lowell
Lance is a deaf and grumpy vampire who could pick a fight with everyone and everything. He isn’t exactly intimidating, him being an average height and not that strong, but that doesn’t stop him from blindly starting fights with people clearly stronger than him.
Lance loves acting and hopes to make it his job someday. He also has a sweet tooth and absolutely adores anything Halloween related.
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Lucas Lowell
Lucas is mute and a very sweet and kind person. He acts rather fatherly around people who are smaller than him… Which is basically everyone, ever.
He too can be rather playful when he’s with friends and his brother, Liam.
Lucas also has the tendency to gossip and is usually caught up with the latest internet drama. Lucas loves designing clothes and hopes to make it his job someday. He’s pretty up-to-date with what’s trendy but would much rather design something eccentric and more aesthetically pleasing than to go with the trends.
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Liam Lowell
Liam is a very cheeky, blind guy who loves joking around and meeting new people! He loves partying, flirting and expanding his love life. He’s a very “sex: yes please” type of guy.
Liam also loves everything ocean/pirate related. He often finds himself at a nearby beach or haven just listening to the sounds of the waves. He really likes sculpting too, he’s quite good at it. Liam has the bad habit of stealing, lock picking, pickpocketing and abusing drugs/alcohol.
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Pip Outteridge
Pip is a very shy and extremely anxious person. He’s got social anxiety so hanging out with his friends can become quite stressful. Pip is also autistic and he can often be found fiddling with his hands. He is way calmer around animals and the woods though, so he spends most of his time in nature and around his sister, Donut. Pip likes cooking and photography. He usually practices these hobbies around Donut and more often than not stops whatever he’s doing to play with her. He is also very interested in biology and if he’s comfortable enough, he might tell you a cool little biology fact he knows…
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Donut Outteridge
Donut is a very go-lucky kima! She sees the good in everyone and truly believes she can become friends with the whole world. She’s very close with her brother Pip and hangs out with him the most! Behaviour wise she is still very young and pretty childish. She still plays with toys and is very innocent. Donuts are OBVIOUSLY her favourite food! But besides donuts she’s also very fond of blueberries, kruidnoten and those candy peaches. She also really likes drawing and often draws her crow character named Caw! Donut is my online mascot!
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Nameless
Nameless is a mischievous little know-it-all who likes to mess around and learn about the creatures and cultures around him. He is very intelligent and uses his intelligence when he’s physically not capable of avoiding trouble. He’s quite good at manipulating others. He knows a lot about the biological aspects of a creature, but is rather outdated on his knowledge when it comes to culture and languages. Nameless loves messing with the the main gang’s heads.
This character can shapeshift, open portals and a whole bunch of other stuff if he’s gotten enough negative/positive energy from other people. this energy is emited when someone is really sad/depressed or excited/happy.
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Damien Woodcock
Damien is a mischievous banshee who’s overly cheerful and very hyperactive! He often doesn’t see the harm in laughing at unfortunate situations and in general laughs a lot to cope with fear or stressful situations too. His behaviour is rather unsettling to some and his enthusiasm can quickly become obnoxious. People think he’s crazy…. And they’d be right… but he’s really harmless and just wants to be your friend. Damien also has a tendency of ending up in very comically incriminating positions, usually depicting him as having killed something, while there’s usually an innocent explanation for it.
Damien is a he/him banshee because he’s intersex
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James Cunningham
James is a clumsy artist who is very awkward in social situations and prefers to spend his time painting alone at home. He isn’t a very good painter, his clumsiness usually causing something to go wrong with his paintings, but he still enjoys the paintings he ends up with very much.
His best friend is Shun. Shun used to be stuck in his body with him after possessing him, but she’s out and living with him now. He’s British-Chinese and she’s Japanese, so they have a pretty big language barrier. Despite this, they get along pretty well.
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Shun 旬
Shun is a mischievous oni who got trapped in a tea pot long long ago. She’s very strong-willed and bold and can sometimes come off a bit harsh with her words and gestures. She is very loving though and will consider you her kin when you’ve become friends with her.
Shun has grown really close to James with the time they’ve spend together, despite of the language barrier. She’s very protective of him and will fight anyone who dares to look at him the wrong way.
Toyhouse Profile
Maaike Lowell
Maaike is the Lowell trio’s grandmother and main caregiver! She loves joking around and tricking people. She owns a flowershop she maintains with Ned, Rox and Cloud. Maaike also isn’t very open about her past, usually avoiding questions with a giggle…
Toyhouse Profile
Alex de Vries
Alex is a werewolf and Lance’s best friend. He’s a pretty cool dude to hang out with once he actually has time to chill. He has to work multiple jobs to pay his rent and be able to pay off his college depths. He studied economy. He works as a cashier in a small supermarket during the day and works as a pizza delivery guy at night. Alex is usually very exhausted and hasn’t had any hobbies to invest in since he left college. When he gets home he either chats through messenger with friends, watches some videos, or immediately falls asleep the second he sits down.
Toyhouse Profile
Ned Hunt
Ned is a sweetheart stoner who would do anything to turn a stranger’s frown upside down. He isn’t the brightest light around though. He’s very forgetful and often forgets important things. Like his mum Sarah’s name. He’s the one who turned Lance into a vampire when he was little. Lance thinks Ned’s still in the UK, and doesn’t know he’s actually working in his grandma’s flowershop. They always seem to comically miss eachother
Toyhouse Profile
Gnörf
Gnörf is your friendly neighbourhood cryptid. He might look scary and smell really bad, but he will do you no harm. He gives really good advice and treats everyone like they’re old friends. Gnörf believes kindness is the key to a better world and hopes his life advice brings people into a positive and bright direction in their and other people’s life.
Gnörf also speaks in the third person for some reason.
Toyhouse Profile
More characters can be found on my Toyhouse!
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Spanish GP: Preview - Aston Martin
Lance Stroll: "I think Barcelona's going to be a great circuit to showcase how these ground-effect cars work in the high-speed sections - especially at the long Turn Three bend - so I think the fans can expect some exciting onboards. This weekend also provides a chance to compare everyone's progress after testing here earlier this year. These cars are like prototypes and are improving all the time."
Sebastian Vettel: "Barcelona will showcase a lot of the behaviour inherent in these 2022 cars; the lower-speed corners will be a physical challenge, while the faster sections will be about bravery and trusting in the ground-effect. Passing has usually been tricky here but I think these cars have shown they're much better at going wheel-to-wheel, so I think it will be a different race to previous Spanish Grands Prix."
Strategy
The C1, C2 and C3 allocation return for the first time since Bahrain, which was also a higher degradation circuit, so expect a two-stop race to be the quickest way around Barcelona. Pit-stop timing is key because it's a higher-than-average time-loss at 23s per stop.
Overtaking
Good strategy is essential because overtaking is usually tricky. DRS makes up 75% of all passes here, and three-quarters of overtakes are made at Turn One, with the benefit of DRS creating further minor opportunities at Turns Two, Three and Four. Expect an exciting start, with an average of 10 moves made across the field on the first lap in the past.
Safety Cars
While there's been one in every race so far this season, 2020 was the only Spanish Grand Prix of the last six not to feature an interruption. Depending on its timing, any potential Safety Car could influence strategy and convince teams to attempt a one-stopper.
via Pitpass - the latest hottest F1 news http://www.pitpass.com/
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Okay, clearly Dragon types are really hard to train.
So what do prominent trainers do right when it comes to Dragon types? People like Lance, Cynthia, Drayden
They are firstly adults, who have more experience, have done a lot of research on their partners, and have gone to great lengths to make them feel comfortable and at home. some things i've noted that they do:
Allow their pokemon holidays, breaks, be it to migrate, to blow off steam, or simply relax. This also accounts for them socialising, a thing dragons need. the dragons migrate (on average) once every 3-5 years, and will feel the call of their ancestral home, even if they have never been there. It's in their genes.
Feed them a well balanced diet, and allow them to hunt for their own prey in allocated ranger-approved areas, for specific species, where overpopulation is a big issue. Allowing for natural hunting is key to their health.
Regular checkups, to make sure they're shedding correctly, have no broken bones hidden in their meaty bodies, and generally are in top condition despite their rigorous fighting. They can hide injury to seem tougher than they are, and those injuries can get worse because of this.
They keep groups of dragons, and have worked with each one to be socially docile with strangers, children, other pokemon, and each other. Normally a big team of dragons will all fight for dominance, but with the correct intense training, this can be negated to a fair degree. This is a difficult practice, these dragon specialist dedicate their entire lives to their pokemon, not one of them has additional jobs, they live to train and fight with these big creatures.
They provide huge roaming space, allowing their partners to freely fly, run, swim, and climb. They can do this due to funding from the gyms and such, on top of that they appeal to local leaders for the space to do so. Most neighbourhoods have policy in place to stop any random trainer keeping loads of dragons in residential locations where it's unsafe to do so. One is usually fine, but a team full is often not allowed.
They took time to learn. I know for a fact Cynthia is a notorious reader, she's done every bit of research for her team, skims papers, looks over studies, and gets out in the field to get a first hand look at her species of choice.
Emulating their natural behaviours and habitats is the true best way to keep them, but again, i never advise it, without thorough research and preparations. Money alone is usually a big issue, most fully evolved dragons eat anywhere up to 15% of their body weight in meats per day, can be hard to afford it, let alone source it.
Wont even go off about the sheer amount of battling they tend to enjoy, the space needed for a dragon to fight is usually large, they have powerful beam and blast attacks that can cause damage to infrastructure if not practiced and controlled.
I could go on but eh, those are the core reasons. Certainly not a bracket of pokemon i'd suggest to anyone without a sturdy, stable, healthy lifestyle, and secure income.
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okay i keep seeing stuff about high school klance, but it's mostly negative. so i thought i would bring some highschool au klance headcanons which aren't wildly out if character and/or borderline fetishizing mlm. i hope i did any good!
(btw these aren't based of american high schools because i'm european okay cool)
keith: he's the dude dressed in black ripped jeans and red flannels staring out the window during class. he doesn't really talk to anyone, how mysterious. it's actually because he's not the best at socializing and he's used to being alone anyway. he's naturally smart but doesn't try very hard. he gets good enough grades with minimal studying. this lack of motivation is because he believes most of what he learns at school is useless. some girls have shown interest in him before, but he was completely oblivious to it. people now mostly leave him alone outside of school projects and stuff like that. he spends his lunchbreak alone outside of the school building, listening to music or watching youtube videos on conspiracy theories. when school is over he often hangs out with his adopted brother shiro and shiro's boyfriend adam. he also has a motorcycle which he rides to school!!
lance: he's kind of a popular guy, he knows a lot of people. he goes to parties and flirts with girls (but gets flustered when they show interest back). this doesn't stop him from mostly hanging out with nerdy kids though. he's actually kind of nerdy himself? he's pretty intelligent but he has trouble concentrating during classes (and sometimes on his homework too). he still studies really hard (which only his close friends know- most people wouldn't believe it if you told them). he gets slightly above average grades, but he wishes he could do better like his best friends hunk and pidge who are among the best of the school. when teachers first meet him they often mistakingly stereotype him as a class clown for talking during class or making jokes. only later they realise how dedicated he actually is, sometimes staying after class to ask questions about things he didn't understand. in his free time he loves to play video games with hunk and pidge.
klance stuff idk: lance has decided that he doesn't like keith. he hates that keith is smart and gets good grades without really trying, while lance is working his ass off. he also mistakes keith's distant behaviour for him thinking he's better than everyone (while our boy is just socially awkward). and girls like him without him doing anything! what's so attractive about that weird mullet, those long eyelashes, those beautiful and intriguing eyes-... meanwhile keith doesn't understand why the pretty boy with golden-brown skin and striking blue eyes keeps staring at him during class. not that he minds it, he just wishes the boy wouldn't look at him with such an angry expression whenever he catches his gaze.
#i just need ren and kenzie to accept these and then i'll be happy#highschool au's aren't even my favourite to read but it's pretty fun to fantasize about ngl#klance#keith vld#keith kogane#keith voltron#voltron#lance mcclain#lance voltron#lance vld#voltron legendary defender#vld#headcanons
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“ lil’ sis ”
a. kunimi x reader
genre: fluff. (big brother! oikawa)
being able to watch the boys volleyball practices so often had it’s pros as well as it’s cons. a con being you always had to wait extra long for toru to finish, meaning you would miss the anime that played after school.
a pro: being able to watch kunimi akira play. to most he was average, uninterested and some would go as far as to call him lazy. not you though—every time he’d look your way you’d blush and every time you’d catch him sticking his tongue out, you’d giggle.
when he confessed, it was like living on cloud 9. obviously you returned the feelings. it had been three months since that day and everything was wonderful. except for the fact you hadn’t told your older brother.
“are you sure you can’t tell him soon?” akira sat at the edge of your couch, your outer thighs pressing together. shaking your head you explained,
“your inter high tournament is coming up, he’ll be even more stressed. plus when he’s stress he gets even more mad.” you bit your lip as he slipped his hand into yours, falling over and resting his head on your shoulder.
“[nick name] is not allowed to date any boys, ever!” you recalled a conversation between you, your older brother and iwaizumi.
“shut up loserkawa, don’t you think y/n should make that decision on her own.” iwaizumi stood on your side as you nodded. a large factor swaying iwa to your side was that he’d heard a phone call with [friend’s name] as you fauned over his underclassman.
Snapping your attention back to your boyfriend, he’d laid himself down so that his head rested in your lap. your hands has subconsciously started to play with his hair.
“even if toru doesn’t know, it doesn’t mean I like you any less.” you cupped his checks, bending down and ghosting your lips over his, slowly pressing a kiss onto his lips.
the house was supposed to be yours for the day, that’s why you invited akira over. toru was suppose to take takeru to volleyball lessons while your parents were at work. the house was supposed to be yours.
sounds of the door unlocking could be heard from your living room and you frantically looked at kunimi as he got up, panicking slightly.
“hide!” you hissed out in a bit of a whisper-scream as your boyfriend searched for the best spot to conceal his presence. quickly, he made his way to a linin closer biggest enough for him to squeeze in.
“i’ve said it a million times takeru, i didn’t get the email saying your lessons were canceled today!” you heard toru and takeru’s whining coming from the front entrance, your stomach churning at the thought of getting caught.
“hey aunt y/n!” takeru’s expression lightened once he saw you, running up for a hug. turning his head to his brother, making it clear you were the favourite.
“you guys are back early!” you nervously laughed, “toru didn’t take you for ice cream like he said?”
toru promising ice cream was a story you’d just managed to fabricate, a way to get them out of the house long enough to help akira escape.
“ice cream?!” takeru shot up in excitement as toru squinted at you, shaking his head. he opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted with a sneeze.
“what was that?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“what was what? i didn’t hear anything.” you shrugged, trying to act innocent.
“you’re a bad liar, sister-chan.” toru crossed his arms, shaking his head.
“it sounded like a sneeze.” takeru added in, unaware of his own snitch-like behaviour.
“a sneeze that came from the linen closet.” your heart beat sped up as you watched toru walk across the room. mentally groaning, you remembered akira’s sensitivity to dust— what a poor hiding spot he’d chosen.
the setter was in shock as he opened the door and his team mates came falling out, rubbing his flushed red nose.
“kunimi? what are you doing in my house?!” his eyes wide with shock, toru caught on to the glance he sent your way, “oh my god! we’re you with my sister— takeru cover your ears.”
the elementary school boy did as he was told as toru turned your attention back to kunimi.
“it better not be what it looks like.” he got up in your boyfriends face and you’d just about had it with his protective older brother act. you stomped up to them and pushed toru out of the way.
grabbing akira’s hand with force you brought it up so your brother could see.
“toru i’ve had enough of you dictating my life. me and akira are dating, get over it now because, well because i love him!” you hadn’t expected to let it out, neither of you had used the ‘l’ word before.
kunimi’s eyes went wide as he squeezed your hand. toru, on the other hand looked on the brink of death, turning as pale as a ghost.
“l-love?” he stuttered, “how long has this been going on?”
“for a longtime, i should’ve told you sooner so i didn’t have to keep sneaking around with him.” you grumble, “now take our nephew to get ice cream so I can spend more time with my boyfriend before he needs to head home.”
toru stood up straight, nodding and the wave of rage that was coming off of you. he was used to seeing you as his sweet, innocent baby sister who inevitably needed to be protecting. but watching you stand up for yourself, he realized there was nothing he could do.
“fine, let’s go takeru.” he signaled to your nephew, who’d secretly been listening the whole time and as the pair walked out you let out a sigh.
“I guess it worked out for us, huh?” you chuckled, as you turned to face akira his face was almost expressionless, was he still in shock from the interaction? toru could be scary looking at times.
his eyes trailed down to your lips and then back at your eyes. a bright smile flashed onto his face, one that barely saw.
“i love you too.” his mind was racing, thinking about the words you’d just said to your older brother. he lanced forward, bringing you into his embrace.
holding your lips on his own, he felt you hands move up to his hair— he loved how you played with his hair, while he tugged at your waist.
pulling back, you pressed your forehead against his, laughing at how things had worked out. you felt like a burden had been lifted off your chest and that now, a new chapter was about to start.
#kunimi headcanons#kunimi x reader#kunimi akira#kunimi x y/n#kunimi scenario#hq kunimi#kunimi akira x you#akira kumini#kunimi akira x reader#kunimi akira headcanons#kunimi akira oneshots#kunimi oneshots#seijoh#aoba joshi#hq fluff#haikyuu!!#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu#haikyū!!#fluff#kunimi akira x y/n#kunimi akira scenarios
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Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt.4
Lance kept the rear view mirror on the two strangers in the back. The shorter one of the two was unfairly hot. Lance might never have had sex, out of fear of losing self control, the fact he was monster, and he didn’t know if he was going to knock some poor stranger up with some half vampire kid, but he knew well enough that the man was edging on his type. Untalkative, the man had his arms crossed, hand clutching the raspberry slushy Pidge had forced upon him. He looked as impressed to be in Lance’s car, as Lance was to have him there.
“If you don’t mind me asking, what is it that you three do that has you out so late at night?”
Lance did mind. Thanks to Pidge these two strangers had been committed to memory for the rest of his undead life
“Man, you don’t want to get Pidge started...”
Hunk was also uneasy. He’d found his way into the bag of chocolate eclairs, the pile of wrappers now more than the chocolates left
“Oh? Pidge?”
“We’re paranormal investigators. You’ve heard all about Garrisons blood past... well, we’re going to be the first to capture it all on film”
Shiro raised an eyebrow, Lance accidentally meeting his eyes in the mirror, quickly averting his gaze back to the road
“Oh, but Lance is a lawyer... He’s the serious one who doesn’t believe in ghosts”
Thanks for that Pidge, now Shiro’s attention was on him
“You’re a lawyer?”
“Yep. Got the fancy piece of paper and everything”
“Wow. What kind of law do you practice?”
“Family”
Yeah, Lance knew his manners were lacking, he didn’t need Pidge kicking the back of his chair like she did
“Ah. That must be tough”
“Some days are worse than others, but it is what it is. What do you two do?”
It was on the tip of Lance’s tongue to mention the photography thing, but being a dumb human meant they didn’t always remember what was said
“That’s right, you said your brother was into photography?”
Aaaaand the attention was back on Pidge
“Yeah, Keith likes to take photos, it’s more a hobby than anything. I’ll save you the details and just say I’m in finance. Not terribly interesting”
Great. A finance guy right next to the registered hacker of the group...
“Sounds boring”
Shiro snorted a laugh. Lance cursing mentally that he now had Keith’s name in his head
“It has its moments. So you guys are into the paranormal? Ever see anything?”
“Not yet. But you never kno-ooow. Watch where you’re driving!”
Turning onto the dirt road that lead to his house, Lance could have probably been gentler on the ditch. Each year the council filled the damn thing up, only for it to all erode away with the first rains of the year
“If you’re not used it by now, you never will be”
“That’s because you can’t drive for shit”
“It sounds to me like you want to walk home in the morning”
“I’ll be good”
Lance’s lips betrayed him with a smile. Pidge would never “good”, her rebellious behaviour was just another thing about her to love
“Yeah, yeah. You’ve told me that a hundred times and I’m still waiting”
“Oh, shut it, dad”
“If I was your dad, you’d be grounded for life”
“That’s fine. People suck anyway”
“With no wifi”
Pidge lunges forward in her chair, an arm coming around him in a hug
“I’ll be good! Please don’t take my wifi away”
“As if I could. You’re the one who set it up”
“Oh, right. Guess I don’t need to be that nice to you then”
Licking his cheek, Lance wrinkled his nose
“You’re so fucking gross”
“You love me”
“That I do. We’re nearly home. Sorry it’s not much, I don’t really have visitors over. And I hope you’re not allergic to cats, Blue likes to shed all over the place”
In the back, Keith scoffed
“What kind of a name is “Blue” for a cat?”
How dare he insult Blue and her perfect little body of complete perfection. Blue was Blue, his number one girl, not a number one emo reject in the backseat of a strangers car because he hadn’t bothered learning basic maintenance
“I don’t know, what kind of name is “Keith” for a mullet”
When Shiro laughed, Lance was certain it was the man’s first real and genuine laugh for the night
“He’s got you there”
“Go fuck yourself”
Pidge laughed as Keith sulked. If he wasn’t good at taking a joke, then he shouldn’t be dishing it out. Not that Lance was one to talk
“Don’t mind him. He gets cranky when he’s sleepy”
The wrinkles between Keith’s eyebrows deepened at his brother’s explanation
“You’re the one who could have just got a hotel room”
“And you’re the one being rude. Lance, and his friends, are doing us a favour”
“Or they’re going to murder us in our sleep”
“Nah, man. That’s too much effort. I’ll make you a deal though, you don’t murder us and we won’t murder you”
Keith seemed even grumpier at Lance’s joke, Lance just anxious to reach his house already. This was terrible idea, a disaster in the making, and the plot of a pretty average b-grade movie. One thing was for sure though, he wasn’t wearing a matching bra and underwear, pretty much guaranteeing he wouldn’t be the first one murdered.
*
Parking by the steps of the porch, the rain started pelting down as Lance cut the ignition. Relieved to finally be home, he could see Blue sleeping on the windowsill of the living room, having decided to ruin yet another set of vertical blinds in her search for the perfect napping spot. Seeing her was what brought the greatest relief, not the warm light filtered between the blinds, and the knowledge his house would be nice and warm with his bed waiting for his tired arse. Opting to leave the equipment in the car for the night, Lance figured he’d collect it once the other’s fell asleep. All Pidge needed was the camera cards, and her laptop, which she was small enough to climb into the trunk for. God. He really didn’t want strangers in his house, judging things, and even worse, touching things. He liked all his things and he liked them where they were. Routine was key to keeping his sanity, and familiarity helped his Mami whenever he brought her home for a visit.
Fleeing from the car, they all managed to get themselves wet despite the short distance. The rain didn’t bother Lance, not when he couldn’t actually catch a cold from prolonged exposure to the cold. It was his guests his had to worry about
“Come on in. Leave your shoes by the door and I’ll grab us all some towels. Shiro, you and Keith probably don’t have a change of clothes with you, so I’ll lend you some robes now. You can chuck your stuff in the machine, then put it in the dryer before heading to bed. Hunk, wanna show them through the kitchen? I know we’ve got snacks, but I would kill for a glass of red”
“You got it, buddy”
The look in Hunk’s eyes seemed to question if he really wanted Shiro and Keith to know where Lance kept his knives. Hunk was too polite to blurt that out, not like Pidge who had no filter
“Out the way losers, I’ve got a date with my princess”
“My princess, is sleeping on the living room window sill. Don’t blame me if you get scratched”
“That’s just her way of telling me how much she loves me”
“Or how much you drive her insane”
“Rude, much. I’ll meet you guys in the kitchen when I’ve got my Blue”
Pidge pushed both her slushies over to Hunk, Hunk seemed nervous about left alone, but mentally rallied as he managed a smile
“The kitchen’s through here”
With three robes and a bundle of towels, Lance returned to the kitchen where Hunk had started stress baking. The signs were obvious, from the flour next to the mixing bowl, to Pidge sitting on the kitchen bench with an unhappy looking Blue held in her lap
“Sorry, some lazy arsehole didn’t sort the linen closest”
It was lie. He simply, really, truly didn’t want to deal with his visitors. Passing Shiro and Keith a robe and a towel each, Lance went on to wrap a towel over Hunk’s shoulders, then throw Pidge’s at her. Catching the towel, she managed to keep Blue contained in her lap, despite Blue’s displeasure
“Let me guess, that means you?”
Lance’s big blue eyes widened, shocked Shiro would make a joke
“Damn, Lance. I think I might just like this one”
“Oh, bite it, Pidge. Yeah. That lazy arsehole’s me. Even if there were more hours in the day, I’d still probably spend them sleeping. Did Hunk offer you guys a coffee?”
“Already on it, man. I’m whipping up some butter cookies to go with the tea”
Lance sighed to himself again, mentally of course because his mother would have smacked his arse had he done it out loud. He didn’t do guests for a reason. The feeding them thing was annoying
“I hope you don’t mind, but can you show us where the bathroom is?”
Right. They were wet. He was wet. He was supposed to be human, which meant sliding his robe on over his clothes, or rather starting too then realising it wouldn’t go on over his jacket. God. He was making an idiot of himself.
With his jacket over his chair, Lance flashed Shiro and Keith a smile
“Yeah, through here. You guys can go ahead and take a shower if you want. I mean, seperate showers, or whatever, no judgment if you’re into that kind of thing. Sorry, I’m not used to visitors. Feel free to use whatever you find in the guest bathroom, most of it’s Hunk and Pidge’s stuff they’ve left here, but there’s fresh soap bars and spare toothbrushes in the second drawer”
Someone needed to shut him up. Stitch his goddamn lips together, then bury him until his embarrassment worse off. Lance’s moves were still as he led his guests from the kitchen to the bathroom
“Here we go. I’ll put you in the spare room down here, and we’ll sleep upstairs. There’s not much down here, just my office which is the end room. Your room will be the next door up, it’s got two twins in there, so plenty of space. Pidge set up a charge pad, because you guys probably didn’t bring your chargers either. If you go all the way the other way in this hall, you’ll reach the laundry. Everything’s out in the open, so help yourself. I know this is awkward as fuck, and probably is for you two, but there’s no saying no to Pidge once she thinks something is a good idea. Oh, yeah, don’t be afraid to take your time, if you get lost, give us a yell”
Shiro thanked him, towing Keith into the bathroom by the arm. Lance not going to question that one. Not at all. Nope. Nooo... God that family had some good genetics though. Under all his brooding pouting, Lance had caught sight of Keith’s eyes... Eyes like two small galaxies had been captured and shoved in there. How they were so damn purple when he was human, Lance didn’t know, but fuck it was unfair.
When the bathroom door closed, Lance headed down to the office. Pidge couldn’t be trusted with electronic locks, leaving him the only option of dead locking the door. His explanation was that the cases he worked on deserved privacy, which his two friends respected. He’d let them in the office once to satisfy their curiosity, Pidge finding the sheer number of books boring. On the outside it appeared a normal office. Bookcases, filing cabinets, his framed diploma, laptop, printer, all those sorts of normal office things. His desk was organised around the clutter, that totally wasn’t his fault. He couldn’t help he had a weakness for quirky stationary. His current favourite pen was decorated with dancing cacti. The small things in life helped him deal with life’s less than pleasant things. Under his desk were the only two anomalies of the room. On the left, instead of drawers, was his wine rack. On the right, behind the drawers, was his fridge. Lance might be the worlds biggest klutz with his glasses on, but he wasn’t stupid enough to leave his blood bags where everyone could see them. Locked behind a heavy iron door, the previous fireplace of the room meant no one paid much attention to the outside protrusion where it once sat. He’d kept the decorative tiles in place, making a feature of it around his desk in order to keep the questions to a minimum. When it came to time leave his current set up, he was going to be devastated.
With precious minutes ticking down, Lance grabbed himself out the blood pack he’d started for the day. He never let himself go hungry, but with two strangers in the house it was better he let himself have a small feed just to keep his nerves in check. Grabbing down a wine glass and the closest bottle of Shiraz, he poured himself a double before pouring in a good double shot of blood. The bag was O+, not his favourite, yet not the worst. He wasn’t one of those blood snobs that only every drank one type. He was grateful for what he could get, and more grateful to the people who donated their blood under their own free will. Naturally they were compensated for their blood and their time, Coran who ran the blood bank in Platt wasn’t a man to be messed with. Lance knew Coran wasn’t human, yet he had no clue what race he was, nor did he have any idea the race of his niece Allura who often helped out. The pair of them were the coordinators for most of Platt city, and the surrounding area, providing safe blood for those not in a coven or forced from a coven due to whatever reason, with in reason... He knew they weren’t human, as neither of them had aged a single day in all the years he’d known them... which was a pretty long time when he stopped to think about it... which he definitely didn’t have time to right now.
Straightening up his office, Lance then headed back to the kitchen. Hunk busy with the cookies he’d just placed in the oven, while Pidge was sipping on her slurpy. Blue knew she wasn’t supposed to be on the kitchen table, yet gave zero fucks, Lance striding over to scoop her up and pepper her with kisses, after placing his glass down carefully
“Who’s daddy’s good girl?”
Blue shot him look that expressed how little she thought of him, done with his craziness and protesting of her less than regal treatment
“Yes, I know. You don’t care, you just want your wet food and the blanket turned back on. It’s such a hard life”
Stooping to let Blue down, she gave him a look of disgust before licking at her fur as if to erase his pats. Picking up his wine glass again, he took another sip, feeling the way the blood coated his mouth as it slid down easily
“Well, that’s done. They’re in the bathroom now, doing whatever. I still can’t believe you volunteered my house”
Pidge shrugged
“I know if it was Matt who was stuck, I’d want someone good to help him out. I promise to pay for anything that gets damaged”
“Damn, girl. How much they pay you for that tour?”
Pidge shrugged again. They both knew she wouldn’t be paying, if she tried Lance wouldn’t let her
“Enough”
Matt was a bit of a tricky topic. He was a firm believer in all things paranormal and supernatural. For all her enthusiasm and research, Matt dwarfed Pidge’s knowledge by a long shot. Apparently when Pidge was younger Matt had got himself in a bit of jam chasing ghosts, since whatever had happened, he’d left to track things all across the world. Pidge missed him fiercely, and was left constantly cranky with her brother at his lack of regular updates
“Speaking of Matt, have you heard from him lately”
Lance was glad Hunk was the one asking, he’d stripped Pidge bare of all her defences, keeping her secrets at the same time as keeping her grounded
“Not for something like 3 months now. Dad said he was in Italy the last time he checked in with him. Mum worries herself sick when she doesn’t hear from him”
“Pidge, if he’s anything like you, then he’s fine. You Holt’s are a touch bunch”
Pidge sighed, Lance sympathising over how hard it could be not to hear from your siblings. There was nothing like the love and hate that came with having a sibling. Half the time you want to murder them in their sleep, but god help anyone else who messed with them. His whole family had changed after he’d been turned, they’d aged while he remained the same. Now he was getting depressed.
Sliding off the counter, Pidge threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around him in a fierce hug
“I just... really miss him”
“I know you do. I’m sure he misses you, but he’s like you and once he’s off chasing something time looses all meaning”
“Yeah. I mean, I know he is, but sometimes it really...”
“Fucking sucks”
Pidge nodded as Lance finished her sentence for her. She was just a baby, while he was an old man of 44
“Have you messaged him lately?”
“Everyday”
That had to hurt even worse. 120 plus messages left on read
“Until he comes back, you’ll have to be happy with the two of us”
“I mean... if I reeeeeeally have to”
Hunk turned from the oven, enveloping both of them in a bear hug
“Group hug!”
Pidge laughed, faking an attempt at squirming her way out. Hunk laughing too as he lifted them both off their feet for a moment. Lance’s poor wineglass barely surviving the ordeal
“You two are stuck with me”
“Yep. We sure are. And we’re the luckiest people alive”
Well, Pidge was alive. His undead arse sure wasn’t getting any closer to living
“Okay, that’s enough, losers. I’m gonna go set the tapes up. Hopefully we’ll see something good”
“Or not. Not seeing anything is good too. Lance, go make sure she doesn’t edit the video in some way... I’m going to have nightmares tonight as it is”
“I’ve got you, bud. Come on, Gremlin. Let’s go set up your videos”
Lance had nearly let himself forget there were two strangers in his house. He couldn’t actually forget, but he was trying his damn hardest as he let Pidge’s techno-babble wash over him. He’d never met Matt in person, but Pidge’s missing him was bringing up how much he missed his own siblings. Mami would let him know how they’re doing, keeping him in the family loop. It had to be Papi’s funeral when he’s last seen them all. Lance lying through his teeth that he was named after his father, Lance, to pass off his young looks. He missed his papi. His papi had worked hard all his life, a farmer through and through, with every analogy somehow farm related. Especially when it came to his tractor, that was the man’s default go to when explaining anything, or attempting to have a father and son chat. He missed him something fierce, like he missed his siblings. None of them had invited him to his papi’s wake, Lance felt like he shouldn’t even be at the service, but his Mami gripped his hand and kept him close the whole time. She was the only one who wasn’t afraid of him. Lance hated them all for leaving him, but he loved them all because when they were kids things were so much less complicated. Late night bonfires, hunting on the farm, surfing, dancing in the rain. Huge family Christmas’s where it felt like everyone in town showed up. Kids in and out the the house, not like Christmases now days where he’d spend time with his Mami in the morning, taking her to church for mass then out for a drive, blow off his friends, binge bad rom-coms come evening and cook a feast up for Blue.
Smacked in the face with a flying TV remote Lance was forced back out of his self loathing shell. He had a good life, and even better friends. There was nothing wrong with the way he lived, and he had a sense pride in the work he did. Not all cases went his way, but he his head on better than most as far he was concerned
“What the fuck?”
“That’s for tuning out when I was trying to talk to me”
“You hit me in the face”
“Good. I was aiming for you chest, if that help”
Lance rose a finger to poke at his eyebrow where the remote had hit, there didn’t seem to be any blood, so he supposed he could let Pidge off
“You have my undivided attention. What did I miss?”
“I was saying it’s good to go, whenever Hunk gets here”
“You know he’s really going to have nightmares tonight”
“Then he can crawl into bed with you”
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Uh, hello. I’m a girl, and Shay’s a girl”
Lance rolled his eyes
“Really? I hadn’t noticed”
“I’m just saying, don’t wanna make things complicated”
“There’s nothing going on between you two. It’s fine, you’ve shared a bed before”
“But not when Hunk was this close to finally getting a girlfriend”
Pidge held her fingers together, rather than the normal tiny gap
“Fine, but he sleeps in your room and you sleep with the light on”
“What are we? Twelve?”
“Awww, did little Pidge sleep with the light on all the way up to 12?”
“Oh, fuck you. You’re only like 2 years older than me. I bet you kept your night light on until you last night”
Pidge’s face said she was thinking over her words, knowing that something didn’t quite sit right in what she’d said, but if he was to point that out, he’d be hit for having the nerve
“Yep. I’m completely hopeless. Who knows what lurks in the dark. What if the monster under my bed attacked my feet because they hung over? What would I do then?”
“You’re such an arsehole”
“Hey, Blue has a stage where my toes were her mortal enemy”
“I’m going to tell Blue you’re going around telling everyone she’s a monster”
“By definition, all cats are arseholes. She knows she’s the cutest little monster that’s too tiny to take me down”
“Dude, she’s got you wrapped around her little finger?”
“Oh, so Lance has a girlfriend?”
Caught up in Pidge, Lance hadn’t heard Shiro approaching. He damp near jumped out of his skin at the unexpected voice
“No, this loser is unlucky in love, like the rest of us”
“Ah...”
Shiro sounded confused, Lance embarrassed
“We’re talking about my cat. She’s a pint sized monster. She’s probably going to be cranky all night because I didn’t give her more wet food”
“Ah, I see now...”
The silence that fell was awkward as fuck... Right. He had to be a good host
“We’re going to watch what Pidge filmed tonight, if you’re up to it. Hunk’s cookies should be done soon...”
“Oh, I was thinking Keith and I might just head to bed. You know, get out of your hair”
“Dude, you have to try Hunk’s cookies. They’re like a gift from god”
Shiro gave a nervous laugh, not everyone got Pidge’s humour, or brashness
“When you put it like that, how can I say no?”
Pidge clapped her hands
“Excellent. Now, the most important thing of all, do you believe in ghosts?”
“I can’t really say one way or another. I do have a friend that’s into that sort of thing”
“Then the next time you talk to them, you’re going to sound like a total expert. Sit down and buckle up, it’s time for an adventure into what lies beyond”
Pidge waved her fingers as her voice adopted a spooky tone for the “what lies beyond” part. Poor Shiro was coping Pidge totally nerding out. At least if she managed to scare him away, Lance wouldn’t have to worry about crossing paths with him, or his brother, ever again. Ugh. Being nice was exhausting.
#once bitten twice stupid#vampire Lance#vld au#ashratherose#mpreg#waaaaaaay future references#klance
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MSA time travel idea (part 28)
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, Vivi POV, 8, 9, 10, Lewis POV, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, Lance POV 18, 19, Lewis POV 2, 21 , 22, Vivi POV 2, 24, 25 Lewis POV 3, Mystery POV
Part 29: here
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VIVI POV
The sky is overcast, darkening grey, blocking out most of the afternoon sun. A strong wind is funnelling around the cars and buildings, blowing hair over her face and eyes. Vivi pauses, narrowly avoiding a cyclist who appears suddenly on her left. She shuffles about restlessly, hurrying forward once the coast is clear, dodging any remaining pedestrians and drivers between her and the car park. Mystery, to his credit, takes the jostling like a champ, sitting patiently in her arms. She hates the thought of leaving him alone in the truck for any length of time, but she doesn’t have his lead and doesn’t trust him enough to just leave him outside the hospital. No matter how well behaved a dog he is, he is still a dog.
The area around the hospital is thankfully familiar enough that she can cut down a side street and reach the truck well before the estimated ten minutes are up. When Arthur had first gotten his licence, they’d spent a lot of time loitering around the open mall, none of them really having enough money to buy anything.
She places Mystery on the ground while she searches her shoulder bag for keys. A loud growl has her pausing, attention snapping down. That’s a sound she rarely hears. Vivi begins scanning for whatever set her dog off. Of course, she immediately spots the shifty-looking man leaning up against a car on the row directly across from her. Angry brown eyes meet her blue ones. Any serious concern is stayed when the man pushes forward to exhibit a pronounced limp. Arm in a sling, with a heavily bandaged torso just visible beneath an equally ragged leather vest and jacket, this guy has been on the losing side of one to many fights.
“Hey. You got a moment?” Is grunted at her. Mystery growls. She glares, trying to seam as unfriendly as possible. Vivi definitely doesn’t have time for whatever this is.
“Saw you arrive with that dude in purple, sportin the purple hair-do. He doesn’t work at that weird-ass diner in Tempo, does he? Called ‘Pepper and salt’ or whatever.”
Okay, the angry, injured stranger is asking about Lewis. Not what she had expected.
“Do I know you?”
“No. But you might know the guy I’m after. Goes by the name of Arthur. That ring any bells?”
Vivi turns, planting herself forward a step, giving the stranger a thorough once over. She doesn’t recognise him. Any Tempo resident would know the name of the Pepper diner, so he is not a local. Was this a distant relative of Arthur’s? He looks nothing like Arthur, but that’s not an indicator of much.
“Who?” She plays dumb.
“Average height. Blond hair. Works at Kingsman Mechanics. Knows that dude you were just with…” The man continues, irritated, making a sharp gesture towards the hospital. Vivi is reminded that Lewis is waiting for her and that she should cut this short. Unfortunately, with all the Arthur related mysteries happening around her, she is now very curious.
“Don’t know him.” She says shortly, “But… I can pass a message to the guy I’m with if it’s about something important.” If this is a relative, then the timing suggested he’d be here for Lance. But the mysterious stranger hadn’t asked after Lance. Only Arthur and Lewis. That’s weird.
An increasingly angry scowl, “I’m after a mutual acquaintance actually.”
“An acquaintance of Arthur’s?” How many shifty characters did Arthur know? This guy, and apparently one more? Was this guy the source of Arthur’s odd behaviour?
“Yeah.”
“What sort of acquaintance?” She pushes.
“The not nice kind.”
Why does that sound super ominous? “You want to elaborate on that a bit?”
The fact that this mysterious man is acting intentionally vague is doing nothing except increase her interest. It is almost too convenient that he is here right now. Mentally, she apologies to Lewis. Hopefully, he will be fine without her for a while longer because she is definitely going to be more than ten minutes.
There is more suspicious glaring which transitions into an appraisal. Vivi waits expectantly, unfazed. Eventually, mystery stranger pulls out a cigarette pack, puts one between his teeth, lights it with his good arm and offers the box in her direction.
“No thanks.” She rejects promptly.
A shrug and a grumbled question follows her response. “You ever been to the old mines out near that cave system? The one a few hours drive from here?”
“No.” Though not through lack of trying. She had been itching to check them out for ages, but the trip always got postponed. A big source of industry, before a series of accidents forced them to close, many people swore the cave systems around the mines were haunted. The caves had been a scheduled last stop before home on their road trip. Before they had replanned everything anyway.
“Your purple friend. He ever go up there?”
“No? What does that have to do with a mutual acquaintance of Arthur’s?”
“Do you believe in the occult? Like ghosts, demons and whatever,” The mystery stranger continues, indifferent to her confusion.
“Ah, sorry?” All the theories she’d been forming, from Arthur being a member of a biker gang to on drugs of some sort, are derailed.
“I’m tracking a demon.” A pause to inhale smoke. “A body snatcher or some sort. Tricky to pin down. They have this nasty habit of wiping out their host’s family and friends. If your purple friend has any strong connection to Arthur… I’d keep an eye out.”
“That’s crazy…Why would I believe that?” Even as she speaks, Vivi’s thoughts are shifting to her Gran. All her life, Gran had told her wild stories, spurring her on her fascination with the supernatural and mysteries. Until right this second, she has never had any real proof of any of it.
“Believe it. Don’t believe it. Couldn’t give less of a shit about what ya do. But, possessed or not, this guy Arthur, he’s in collusion with it.” The stranger growls the final word like a curse, “So you go ask that purple friend of yours if he’s noticed strange behaviour. Like Arthur’s not himself. Keeping secrets. Lying. Actin odd. If he thinks of anything or knows where Arthur is, then give this number a call.”
A small card is shoved out towards her. It has a single phone number running across its centre. One last scowl, an irritated grumble, and the man turns, limping away. Vivi quickly moves forward a step, reaching out to catch his arm. The wet fabric causes her to pause.
“You’re bleeding,” She states. The injury must be severe if it is soaking through leather. “There’s a hospital right there you know.”
The man pauses, shrugging her off, “Don’t got no time for hospitals.”
He gives her another hard glare, grunting, “A body snatcher jumps through physical touch. If the eyes are green…try not to look at em. Run, give me a call, it’s your choice. Now get off. Got places to be.” An aggressive step and the man is stalking away, pulling his jacket close.
“Wait. What do you mean run?”
Crap. That can’t be IT. She needs more. What did any of that even mean? Body snatcher? Demons? She’d read a dozen or so books on creatures similar. But those were all myths, legends and a few biblical tales. Nothing real…
She glances down at the card and finds it weirdly familiar. Frick, frick, frick. She recognises the number. Hurriedly, Vivi pulls open the truck door, yanking Arthur’s shoulder bag from the where they’d pilled their belongings. The cab is a safer location for storage then the truck bed. In a rush, she rips free the stack of paper containing the referral. Amongst the pile is a plain white business card. Half crumbled from where it has been shoved into Arthur’s back pocket at some point, it has a single number across the middle. Vivi compares the two cards. The numbers match. Was this proof? Vivi quickly reverses back down to the pavement, scanning the carpark, but the man has disappeared among the many shoppers.
Her mind cycles through a whole new avenue of possibilities. Her dad had never approved of her interest in the supernatural. Increasingly unsupportive and displeased whenever she mentioned her hobby, the paranormal-themed road trip had been an ongoing source of tension, made worse with her mom on one of her extended business trips. Vivi had been looking forward to escaping for a bit. Then the plans for the ‘supernatural’ theme had changed. She hadn’t told her dad. It would have been like admitting defeat somehow. What if there was an actual reason behind his extreme dislike?
“I’ll be back soon,” She assures Mystery, picking him up and plonking him in the truck cab. She turns to chase after the stranger, moving in the direction she thinks he might have gone. Mystery barks twice, and she ignores him. Mid-step, she pulls out her phone to dial Lewis and give him an update. In the process, she notices a stack of missed calls. All from Lewis. That didn’t bode well. Worried, she dials.
“Where are you!?” Lewis answers and he is panicked.
Vivi freezes, one leg extended. There is a long string of barely legible words as Lewis mixes English and Spanish in his rush to speak. Vivi immediately about faces, pivoting to hasten in the opposite direction, back past the truck, towards the hospital. Lewis sounds upset. Really upset. She needs to get to him.
“Lewis. Too fast. Take a breath and tell me what’s wrong?”
There is a low intake from across the line.
“Where are you?” Lewis is understandable now, but his tone still cracks a bit on the question.
“I’m on my way back…Are you okay?” She hits the main road and doesn’t bother checking for traffic, a horn blares, but she doesn’t stop.
“Arthur’s not here,” Lewis confirms her fears, and then proceeds to increase them a hundred-fold, “I found the right room. Lance was admitted early this morning for multiple stab wounds. I went straight in once I knew where it was.” Another inhale. “Lance is…was…I don’t know …he wasn’t breathing. I hit the emergency call button because not breathing is definitely a bad thing.”
The hospital entrance looms over her, “What do you mean, not breathing?”
“A lot of doctors came rushing in. I got kicked out, so I’m not sure what’s going on, but it looked serious. How far away are you?”
“I’m approaching the entrance now.”
“Okay. I’ll meet you there.”
The phone goes dead. Vivi spares it a worried glance, running the rest of the way, hurrying past the security guard and through the sliding glass doors. Lewis is weaving around to get to her. His height makes him easy to spot, bobbing along through the streams of people entering and exiting the hospital.
He rushes right up and into her, wrapping her in a hug, and lifting her off the ground. Oxygen momentarily vacates her lungs. The worry fire, still burning in her stomach, is almost suffocating now. Doubt and fear wiggles past her defences, settling in her chest.
“I thought you’d left,” Lewis mutters, just audible with his face smooshed into the shoulder of her blue cardigan. Vivi almost flinches. She refocuses.
“I would never do that,” She avows. Geez, she’s dumb. Of course, Lewis would be sensitive about missing calls, considering the current circumstances. “Never.”
Lewis just hums in acknowledgement.
“Sorry.” He mutters and inhales again, pulling back and freeing a hand to scratch the back of his head. Lewis and Arthur. Two peas in a pod when it came to apologising for stuff that wasn’t their fault.
“Hey. It’s okay. I’m sorry as well. I should have called.” Should have but didn’t, too wrapped up in solving the Arthur mystery. Now she just has a bunch more questions.
“What happened with Uncle Lance?” She asks again. They relocate to sit on the blue plastic seats which line the hospital’s foyer. No longer blocking the main entrance, she listens to Lewis quietly run through the harrowing experience of finding Lance, practically dead in his bed. He’s visibly shaken, and Vivi waits patiently while he works through the facts. Her mind wanders to that odd moment almost two weeks ago, when she’d accidentally scared Arthur on his way back from the toilet. For a split second, she hadn’t recognised the expression on his face. It had been weirdly uncanny. At the time, she had chalked it up to nausea and headaches.
‘A habit of wiping out their host’s family and friends.’
If Lance had been admitted in the morning, then it would have been impossible for Arthur to make the attack. ‘Not breathing’ could have a bunch of rational explanations. She would need to talk to a nurse or doctor before deciding on anything. Besides, Arthur’s eyes were golden brown, not green.
‘Possessed or not, this guy, Arthur, he’s in collusion with it. Strange behaviour.’
Conjecture and coincidence. What hard proof does Vivi have? Arthur acting out of sorts? He had been through rough patches of antisocial behaviour before. A phone number on a card? That just signalled that the mysterious stranger had met Arthur previously. More importantly, how did that tie into Arthur’s sudden Lewis aversion?
“What do you think we should we do?” Lewis breaks her speculation. He has his hands clasped above his knees, and it is leaning forward to stare at the hallway leading towards the wards. Nervous silence prevails while they both work to possess new developments. She fidgets on the seat, glancing about the hospital for an answer. Near the reception desk, a frazzled nurse is talking and gesturing in Lewis’s direction.
“Wait for news on Lance.” That’s all they could do. Maybe, hopefully, Arthur would make an appearance.
Part 29: here
#MSA#mystery skulls animated#fanfiction#fanfic#Vivi Yukino#Lewis pepper#Mystery the dog#angst#oc character#but will lance survive?#vivi gets a bunch of puzzle pieces and has no idea what to do with them
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Cinnamon Bagels and Peppermint Tea
Lance owns a cute marketplace bakery, and Shiro tries his damn best to make sure his delinquent brother knows about it. Alternative Title: Shiro is the ultimate wingman and Keith has a gay crisis.
Lance
Out of all the regular customers that frequented his bakery, Lance hadn’t met one as peculiar as the man he’d come to know as Shiro.
There was the little old lady who always visited early in the morning for a fresh croissant, often keeping him company with an endless stream of chatter as he opened. The owner of the deli across the indoor marketplace always appeared around lunch to order whatever Lance had on special, whether it be something simple or a new recipe Lance had been experimenting with. The small, single person table in the back corner of the store was almost always occupied by the same local college student, who’d sit for hours and hours typing away and ordering nothing but black coffee. Before his exams, Lance had slipped him a donut for good luck. He’d passed with flying colours.
But Shiro was different. Lance had first seen him about a month ago, and was instantly struck by his appearance. He was tall and muscular with a strong jaw and rough features. Most noticeably, his arms were ravaged with several large scars that had healed white and jagged in long strokes. Most of the indoor market’s customers were fairly average and local, and to be frank, Shiro looked like he was from another world. It wasn’t only his appearance that Lance noticed as out of the ordinary, but his behaviour as well. After his first visit, Shiro began to stop by several times a week. Unlike Lance’s usual regulars who visited routinely and in predictable intervals, Shiro came sporadically. Sometimes he’d rush through the door just as Lance opened, and others he’d catch him just before he was about to close up for the day. Regardless of when he came in, he always ordered the same thing: a toasted cinnamon bagel, one half covered in cream cheese and the other in butter, and a medium peppermint tea. He never once saw Shiro eat it.
“The usual?” The door of the bakery opened with the soft tinkling of a bell, Lance spying the familiar face from the corner of his eye. It was about a half-hour to close and, with the amount of customers quickly thinning, he’d recently began cleaning up shop.
“Yes, thank you.” By now, he was used to Shiro’s voice. It was always soft and polite, although it had a certain ring of authority to it. Somehow, it always managed to sound reassuring. Lance set down the cloth he’d been using to wipe the counters and began prepping his order.
“You ever going to get tired of eating the same thing?” Lance hummed, looking up from his quick work to raise a single brow in Shiro’s direction.
“Oh no, definitely not. He’s been eating the same thing since he was 6.” He chuckled and leaned one hip against the bakery counter separating him and Lance, a fondness creeping into his expression and softening his features.
“He?” Lance’s curiosity piqued. They’d had several conversations about Lance himself, mostly about the bakery, but he’d never once heard Shiro offer up a piece of information about himself.
“Oh!” He brought a fist up to cover his mouth in an attempt to stifle another laugh. “I haven’t mentioned him yet. All of these orders have been for my brother, Keith.”
“Hmm.” Lance contemplated for a moment, spreading cream cheese over the top portion of the bagel. “Is he part of the reason you decided to move out here?”
“Yes, actually.” Shiro settled once again against the counter, crossing his arms as he relaxed. “After I told him about my job offer in the city, he jumped at the chance to come with me. He just finished art school, I think he’s looking for more opportunities.” Lance finished packing up his order, handing him the usual neatly wrapped bagel and steaming cup of tea.
“That’s nice.” A warm, genuine smile spread across Lance’s face, revealing two small dimples. “Family should stick together.” Shiro had hit his soft spot; family had always been important to him, and he couldn’t control the fondness from creeping into his expression at the mention of it. Shiro beamed, returning his smile with one of his own, big and excited and slightly… mischievous? Before Lance could process his reaction, Shiro had already placed money in his palm.
“Keep the change!” Shiro called from behind his back, quickly leaving the store with a skip in his step and a bemused Lance in his wake.
Keith
The first time Shiro brought him a cinnamon bagel from Lance’s bakery, Keith was lying on the floor of their new apartment surrounded by unpacked boxes and crumpled newspaper.
He continued to lay motionless as he heard Shiro’s footsteps approaching their unit from the outside hallway. He didn’t stir when he heard the click of the door unlocking, or when Shiro walked inside. It was only when Shiro nonchalantly tossed a warm package across the room, landing on top of his stomach and square above his bellybutton, that Keith turned his head to look at his brother.
“Breakfast.” Shiro shrugged, responding to Keith’s raised brow. “I also brought you some tea.” He watched as Shiro weaved through the maze of piled boxes the movers had carelessly placed, easily reaching the kitchen counter and setting down the steaming cup. Being a firefighter had its perks, one of them being the ability to move and coordinate a large, muscled body with inhuman grace. “You’re lucky that I remember to feed you, or else you’d starve.”
Keith huffed, sitting up slowly with a long, drawn out breath. He stretched his arms up high above his head, letting the paper bag roll down his stomach and fall into his lap as he straightened. He flinched as a strip of unexpected morning sunlight caught his eye, vision turning spotty. They’d both spent the entire night unpacking, but only Shiro had managed to keep track of the time. How Shiro was always able to remain awake and aware was beyond Keith, and he’d stopped trying to understand his brother’s innate and God-like ability to completely Have His Shit Together™ long ago. Which is why he didn’t question him any further as he reached for the package in his lap, heavy lidded and in a sleep deprived haze. He shivered as he took the paper bag in his hands, its absence leaving his lap feeling empty and cold. With clumsy fingers he unwrapped his breakfast, and without pausing to question what it might be, took his first bite. Immediately, his eyes fluttered wide. A warm flush of pleasure crept up his neck and warmed his cheeks as he began to chew.
“Oho,” Shiro cooed from across the room “Looks like Mr. Picky actually likes his breakfast.” Keith scoffed, crumpling up the bagel wrappings and launching them across the room. His aim was perfect, but so was his brother’s ability to dodge. Shiro side stepped the throw and caught the empty package with ease, shooting Keith a cocky grin that he returned with a scowl. Shiro answered with a light-hearted laugh, grabbing Keith’s tea and heading over to join him at his makeshift newspaper picnic.
The second time Shiro brought him a bagel, he set it down next to him without a word. The small action startled him, tearing him away from his work and bringing him sharply back to reality. It took Keith a moment to adjust, vision blurry from staring for too long at his laptop.
“You haven’t eaten yet today.” Shiro stated, matter of fact.
“I…what?” Half of Keith’s focus was still swimming in the colours and swirls on his computer screen, hands still poised to draw. He’d spent the entirety of the day working on overdue art commissions, completely sinking into his work and losing track of time. He leaned back in his chair, taking a moment to adjust to his surroundings. The sun, which had been high above the horizon when Keith had started work, was now setting, painting the room with vibrant pinks and reds. He slowly came back into his body, the hunger that was once distant now clawing at his stomach, desperate in its chance to finally be heard. Keith turned his attention to his desk, eyes travelling to where Shiro had set down a small, familiar brown package and peppermint tea. “Oh,” he stammered, the full reality of the situation finally hitting him “Thanks man.” They let the silence grow for a few moments, Keith taking the opportunity to unwrap his food.
“His name is Lance.” Shiro finally spoke, leaning against the side of Keith’s desk as he did. Keith paused, bagel in hand, mouth gaping around the ghost of what was going to be his first bite.
“What?” He spoke after a few moments, drawing out the silence. He must have looked completely bewildered, as his expression had Shiro laughing within seconds.
“The owner of the bakery.” He said, smile still etching his features. Keith blinked twice, utterly lost. Shiro held in his laugh this time, eyes travelling to the bagel and back to meet Keith’s. “Where I keep getting the bagels, Keith. Jesus.” Keith’s expression quickly turned skeptical, questioning. He let his eyes linger on his brother for as long as his hunger let him, but it was only a matter of moments before he shifted his gaze and took his first bite. He was immediately contented as the warm pastry settled on his tongue. He could feel Shiro’s eyes on him as he chewed. “First man I know who’s been able to win over your taste buds on the first go.”
“I’m not that bad!” Keith snapped, forgetting that his mouth was full, words cascading out sharp and messy. A blush quickly spread from his neck to the tips of his ears and he shot up a hand to cover his mouth. He refused to look at Shiro, who kept his eyes trained on him and watched in quiet amusement. Mouth still covered, he took a few moments to chew and swallow properly. Afterwards, blush still bright and patchy, he cleared his throat. “I mean… I’m not that picky.”
“Whatever you say.” Shiro straightened, deciding to let Keith eat and resume work in peace. “All I know is that I’m grateful to the man, he’s making my life a lot easier.”
This time, the crumpled bagel package caught Shiro on the side of the head as he turned to leave the room.
Every time Shiro brought him a bagel thereafter, it came with new information about Lance.
The third time, after Shiro had placed the bagel directly on top of Keith’s keyboard, he’d said: “Lance looks like he’s about your age.” When Keith responded with a gruff “What does that have to do with anything?” he’d simply shrugged, turning out of the room with a casual “Oh nothing, just an observation.”
The fourth time, he learned about Lance’s business. “He took the business over from his father, isn’t that interesting?” Shiro spoke from where he sat next to him on the couch. He’d just returned from picking Keith up his now go to meal, and was binging on some Chinese takeout himself.
“Mhm,” Keith hummed, mouth full and attention glued to the TV in front of them, buzzing with the evening’s news. He felt an elbow dig into his side, quick and abrupt, causing him to choke on a piece of bagel.
“Runs the whole place by himself. Seems like he’s doing pretty well.” Shiro continued a little too casually, prodding the contents of his takeout container with his chopsticks as though he hadn’t just elbowed Keith in the ribs.
“Shiro, why do you keep telling me all of this stuff about that baker? Last time I checked, you and Allura were in a long-distance relationship.” He drew out the last word for emphasis, knitting his eyebrows in frustration as he looked over at his brother.
“Yes, and a happy one at that.” Shiro continued to prod at his food, withholding eye contact. “Also, his name is Lance.”
“Alright. Why do you keep telling me all of this stuff about Lance, then?” He huffed in frustration, the conversation beginning to feel like pulling teeth. Shiro looked up at the mention of Lance’s name, a coy smile playing at his lips as he popped a piece of broccoli into his mouth. Keith stared, utterly lost.
“Just seems like an interesting guy is all.” He ate with a cheeriness Keith couldn’t place, like he was up to something. But for the life of him Keith couldn’t figure out what it was, and he had his upcoming commissions to focus on, so he let it go and continued to eat. If he had to listen about Lance in order to keep eating his bagels, he resigned, it was a small price to pay.
Keith leaned back in his chair, locking his fingers and stretching his arms far behind his head. He proceeded to rub his eyes, which were, again, overworked and tired from the strain of looking at a computer screen all day. He’d finally finished his work, and as usual, was having trouble adjusting to the reality that now surrounded him. The sun was almost below the horizon, the only light that remained in the sky burning like an ember about to go out. He didn’t know exactly how long he’d been working, but he did know that when he sat down to start, it was just after lunch. He put a palm to the back of his neck, stretching his muscles and cracking his tired bones. Now that his focus was shifted away from his work, his stomach had turned indignant, nagging and nagging to be obliged. He sighed, reaching into his pocket to grab his phone.
Keith: Where are you?
6:47p.m.
Shiro: Still at work, what’s up?
6:51p.m.
Keith: Can you bring your favourite brother a bagel on your way home? Haven’t eaten since lunch…
6:52p.m.
Shiro: Won’t be home for another hour or two, you’re on your own kid
7:00p.m.
Shiro: Also… you gotta start taking better care of yourself
7:00p.m.
Keith: I know I know
7:02p.m.
Keith: I don’t know where the place is tho…
7:03p.m.
Shiro: It’s in the indoor marketplace about a block away on 5th, fourth store to the right. Can’t miss it – but hurry, he closes at 8
7:05p.m.
Keith: I can’t believe you’re making me go outside
7:06:p.m.
Shiro: Tell Lance I said hi ;)
7:14p.m.
Keith had been in an art haze for days. He’d been able to take complete advantage of it, as Shiro was usually home early, but they were starting to trust him more at his new job, which incidentally meant more work and longer hours. He shuffled around his room in the dark, spying a bright red hoodie among the wreckage that was his bedroom floor. He sniffed it quickly, deemed it okay, and threw it on over his t-shirt. He tied his hair into a messy bun, swapped his pajama pants for a pair of dark jeans, and grabbed his leather jacket, keys, and wallet before heading out the door. He was a bit of a mess, the bun being a necessity to contain his second day hair, and his clothes wrinkled and disheveled after having spent God knows how long crumpled on his floor. His skin was pale from lack of sunlight and his eyes were heavy lidded and tired, but, he thought casually, swinging his keys on one finger and walking out onto the street, it’s not like he had anyone to impress around here anyway.
The Meeting: Keith
It was a little before quarter to 8 when Keith finally made it to the bakery. He opened the door to the subtle chiming of a bell, the sound bouncing off the walls of the empty room. The place was small, but it was clean and nicely decorated. The shop consisted of a large counter and display case, which housed an assortment of equipment and a large chalkboard menu from behind, and a few quaint tables to eat at. However, his attention was instantly drawn to the walls that were painted a nice, airy blue. The bakery was warm in comparison to the crisp fall air outside, and yet being surrounded by such a soft blue reminded Keith of a cool sea breeze, or the mist that cascaded from breaking waves. The cool contrast of the ocean blues and the warm, homey smell of baked goods was a little disarming, and yet Keith found himself instinctively drawn in by the unique marriage of them both. As he made his way further inside, he could hear the distant sound of music coming from somewhere deep in the store. It was cheerful and bright, and although he knew he must have been imagining it, he could almost make out the sound of a sweet ocean breeze swaying along to each note, only drawing him further into the sea. He walked up to the display case, peaking in at what remained after the long day. The display was near empty, so he busied himself by combing through the assortment of labels marking empty rows. Strawberry Cheesecake, Coconut Cream Pie, Pecan Banana Bread… At the sound of hurried footsteps rounding the corner from what appeared to be the back baking area, Keith reflexively began to speak.
“I’m not sure if you have any left… I know I’m here pretty late. But, any chance you have any cinnamon bagels?” He remained partially lost in thought, mind still adrift at sea. His gaze continued to fixate on the display rather than meet the eyes of person he now spoke to.
“No worries!” The voice from behind the counter rang clear and bright. “We do, you won’t find them in there though.” Keith looked up as he continued to speak, following the voice. The sound carried his focus to a tall boy with a wide, goofy smile and kind eyes. He watched as the speaker cocked his head to the display, gesturing toward the empty case as he spoke. “I’ve been keeping a few extra in the back for-“ the boy continued, pausing for a moment “Well, they’ve been pretty popular lately.” Keith’s eyes continued to drink him in, utterly fixated. He wore a white apron over a light purple t-shirt, both garments sprinkled in powder. Despite slight bags under his eyes, he beamed down at him. Keith realized with a start that his eyes mirrored the soft blue of the walls. “What would you like on it?” Keith sucked in a breath.
“Uh…” Under his gaze, Keith immediately felt self-conscious about his appearance, remembering in grueling detail how long it had been since he had washed his hair, the carelessness with which he had thrown his hair up. He could feel his ears and cheeks, which were already rosy from the brisk walk to the marketplace, begin to warm. “If it’s not too much trouble… cream cheese on one side, and butter on the other.” His sentence trailed off in a low mumble and his eyes fell to his hands. He nervously began to thread his fingers together, palms quickly clamming. “Oh, please!” He tripped over his words, practically shouting them. He looked back up, surprised to see that the boy hadn’t moved, but was instead staring at him like he’d just stumbled upon something interesting. He laughed loudly in response to Keith’s outburst, face creasing and dimples appearing on both sides of his cheeks. For a moment, Keith felt like he was floating. The laugh wasn’t patronizing but kind, and it cascaded over him like ripples drifting outward in a pool. Their eyes met, and Keith thought for a moment that he might burn up on the spot.
“You must be Keith,” the boy smiled, dimples digging deeper into flushed cheeks. “Shiro’s your brother, right? He’s told me a lot about you.” He chuckled before continuing “Nobody but him ever asks for that order.” He turned slightly, craning toward the door that led to the back of the shop. He stopped mid-stance, however, to pause and look at Keith. Waiting, Keith realized, for a reply.
“Uh, y-yeah. Shiro’s my brother.” His throat felt like it was choked for air, words coming out low and patchy. In response, Keith received quite possibly the softest smile he’d ever seen.
“I’ll be right back with that bagel.” He chirped in reply, walking happily out of the room and into the back. After a few moments, Keith let out a long held breath, the tension in his body causing it to sound more like a strangled gasp as it escaped his lips. Suddenly, the entire set up of the bakery made sense. The ocean blues, the music that had him day dreaming of the sea, the warmth that somehow tied it all together. He felt like he’d wadded too far into the ocean, only to be swept helplessly away by an over zealous undertow. He saw light purple quickly come back around the corner, bagel in hand. Humming quietly to himself, the boy began to prep Keith’s order. Keith squirmed, desperately trying to figure out what to do with his hands.
“My name’s Lance, by the way.” The boy, Lance, spoke. His eyes remained trained on his work, but his voice carried the same smile that was spread across his lips. “I was wondering if I’d ever get the chance to meet the person who keeps ordering my cinnamon bagels… or if Shiro would play delivery boy forever.” He laughed quietly to himself as he said so, quickly adding “Not that I mind talking to your brother, he’s very good company.” Lance. Lance. The name hit him like a pound of bricks, heavy and sudden. The baker, the one who’d won over his tastes buds on the first go, who had taken over his father’s business, and who Shiro had been on and on about for weeks was here, standing in front of him, with nimble fingers and ocean eyes. The threads began to unravel in his mind one by one; why Shiro had mentioned his name so much, why he hadn’t been letting Keith eat in peace, why he stood here now. His mind spun and spun, the sudden buzzing of his phone from his hoodie pocket snapping him back into reality. He whipped it out, chasing the sensation that had temporarily anchored him. He unlocked his screen to see a picture of Shiro shooting him a peace sign, tongue stuck out. He was in their living room, clearly not still at work, caption reading plain and clear underneath: “Just kidding.” Before Keith could process the new information, his phone buzzed again, a new message popping up from his brother: “My final delivery: one cute baker, get em’ while he’s hot. ;)”
“I’m gunna kill him!” He stammered, mouth speaking before his mind had the chance to catch up. His eyes remained glued to his phone in utter disbelief, mouth falling open in a comical gape. Somewhere deep in his gut, he could feel a small fire begin to spark. The smoke rose and rose until it reached his cheeks, and –
Oh, Lance was staring at him. He was holding a paper bag in one hand and a steaming cup of tea in the other. Had Keith asked for a tea? He’d wanted to, but had he forgotten? He figured he might have… so how had Lance known? It was probably because of Shiro… Oh, Shiro. Wait, Lance was staring at him. Realization flooded over him, Lance’s perplexed gaze effectively dousing his fire and completely deflating him. His arms shot up immediately, palms facing out and waving frantically. “Not you!” he blurted, a violent blush sprouting up his neck “U-uh… my brother!” Lance continued to stare, expression unreadable as he set down the package and tea he was holding. At this point, Keith figured his face must match the colour of his hoodie. “Not that I’d actually kill him!” He stumbled and stumbled, wracking his brain for anything he could use to explain his way out of this. “I mean, I spoke without thinking… he just sent me a text and-“ oh no, you can’t tell him what it said “Uhhh…. well, he sort of tricked me, and it surprised me… and…” He was interrupted by a burst of laughter. For a moment, Keith thought he had absolutely lost his mind. But Lance was laughing, loud and clear and without reservation. He clutched at his stomach with one hand and attempted to wipe at the tears spilling from the sides of his eyes with the other. His laugh filled the room in waves, lifting and breaking, until it bubbled all around him. For some reason, all the tension in Keith’s body eased at the light, carefree sound.
“I’m sorry.” Lance gasped between laughs, still holding his stomach. Once he’d calmed enough to speak clearly, he continued. “I didn’t mean to laugh at you.” His cheeks were patchy and rosy, and his face was still creased and bright with hints of laughter. “I have siblings… I get it, they mess with you. It can get pretty crazy.” Still smiling, he glanced at the watch on the underside of his wrist. He made his way over to the front of the shop, wiping at his eyes again as he did so, and flipped the sign on the door from “Open” to “Closed.” When he was back behind the counter, he spoke again. “Your order’s ready.” He glanced down at where he’d set the items on the counter. Keith followed his gaze, and felt his shoulders slacken.
“Oh, right, sorry.” Keith fumbled with his wallet, searching for change. He didn’t blame Lance for wanting him to leave, he had come in late… and probably freaked him the hell out. He tried not to appear too dejected as he handed the amount displayed on the register to Lance.
“I still have to close up shop.” Lance spoke suddenly, sentence trailing as though he was thinking aloud. “But, I’m pretty interested in hearing about how the ever-polite Shiro tricked his little brother…” Keith’s entire body perked without his consent, and Lance’s expression softened. “You can stay and eat here as I close, if you want to tell me.”
“If you don’t mind the company.” Keith replied, a little too quickly. “I jump at any chance to ruin Shiro’s spotless reputation. Man’s not as innocent as he seems.” Lance laughed again, this time low and quiet.
“I’d love company.”
#klance#lance#keith#vld#voltron#fic#au#bakery au#marketplace au#fluff and humour#pining keith#oblivious lance#broganes#baker!lance#artist!keith#minor shallura#prompt#cinnamon bagels and peppermint tea#sleapea#peawrites
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Welp since I have been playing Spirit of Justice is kinda rekindled a little fire in me so I decided to write about..well the Ace Attorney Walters. It has been a while since I did anything with them so here!
Sapphire Walters.
Known as ‘The Bulldog’ of the force, Sapphire is a hard headed detective with a knack for solving things with her fists if need be. Sapphire comes from a family who have been a part of law enforcement for as far back as their history goes, she takes pride in her work to find facts.
She is on close speaking terms with Wright and Co. however her kindness can run itself short when her temper flares up. There is a reason she is called The Bulldog, especially if her work is questioned or her family is questioned. Sapphire has a strong dedication to her family and her young teenage daughter, Ruby.
Her cold domineering stare is what people usually remember and then her very fiery temper but what they don’t know is that there is a secret behind those eyes. One she will never tell, not even to a certain red suit, carvat wearing prosecutor who she seems to be getting very close too....
Kimberly Walters.
Kimberly is Sapphire’s twin, a very beautiful woman with high intellect she works as a prosecutor and is known for her meticulous detailing of most everything. Kimberly is very cynical but it stems from her sisters ‘barbaric’ behaviour as she calls it as she was the one to bail her twin out of predicaments as a child.
Kimberly is very stalwart and strong willed, especially when interacting with people who have had somewhat crude run ins with her twin. As they spit bile at her Kimberly never falters, pointing out the flaw in their argument before they do. It is stated that the Walters are a family of mystics but it has never been proven.
This fine woman is very polite to others, especially Wright and Co. treating them with respect they deserve. She is also a fan of Trucy’s magic shows and is always there to watch. However she may be hiding something behind her exterior.....
Stella Walters.
The third child in the Walters family, Stella has a twin named Sarina and works as a coroner, yes the people who do autopsies on people she does that for a living. Stella is the odd duck of the family, her skin is very pale compared to her dark skinned elder sisters and her eyes are a piercing red.
Stella has two scars across her eyes, she says she sustained them in an accident but when pressed further she will have a creepy grin on her face, a warning to those who tread too close. The whole family has different shades of purple for the colour of their hair, Stella’s is the darkest probably cluing people in to her somewhat morbid personality.
However, despite her somewhat ghostly appearance, Stella loves her work and loves her family. She may look frail but has stated many a time that she is good with a knife, something that is along the lines of her tools of trade. Stella is shown to be soft around her twin and a certain prosecutor who used to be on death row...
Sarina Walters.
The final adult of the Walters clan, Sarina is Stella’s twin and is a hardworking defense attorney. She dons a lot of pink so it is easy to spot her and she is always willing to help to the best of her abilities. Through her, the others discover that the Walters Family have specific traits that allow them to help with their work. Sapphire’s strength is perfect for her job as a detective, Kimberly’s keen eye for detail is perfect for her role as prosecutor, Stella’s ability to determine time of death with no need for liver temp and Sarina?
Well she has the ability to sometimes see things before they happen but cannot do anything to stop it. Her powers are weak compared to anything her sisters have. Her voice is much softer then her sisters as she is capable to understand people more then the average person, as if she can read them when she first meets them, or so she says she doesn’t understand herself.
Sarina is also very kind, a common trait among her family but the thing that will stick out to you is that only 3 members of the family have green eyes. Sarina, her niece Ruby and the girls Mother, Sophia. Sarina believes that ones with green eyes have disaster follow them...and she hopes nothing happens to her niece or any children Sarina herself will bring fourth into the world. Which is apparent considering the very flashy ring on her finger and the constant company she keeps with that, in the words of Ema Skye, ‘foppish prosecutor’.
Ruby-Lance Walters.
The daughter to Sapphire Walters and an unknown father, Ruby is like the sun had a child and that child had a family and one of their children got reincarnated to this young woman here. Despite her love for red ribbon and the colour yellow, Ruby is a very hardworking girl and a BRIGHT contrast to her Mother Sapphire.
Ruby is a very special child. Each Walters has a special trait or power, Ruby’s is too sense the knots inside other people, to try and untie the knots before they do too much damage. But since she is only a kid, her powers are still a bit out of control and are very powerful. Much like Athena’s gift, Ruby hears the emotions present in others but considering she is young, the emotions can be overpowering.
Ruby looks up to the member of her family and loves them with all her heart and even considers the man her Mother is seeing to be her new ‘Papa’. Ruby is very close to Trucy, seeing her as something as a sister since Sapphire refuses to have anymore children, it is not Ruby’s place to question but it seemed like something happened in her Mother’s early life to make her think that way.
Sophia Walters.
The mysterious head of the Walters clan, Sophia is very regal and has aged quite well, still at least looking 40 or so. Sophia despite her age is very smart and knows the inner workings of the world as she travelled at lot when she was younger.
It is stated in private conversation with the head of the family that due to her travellings, Sophia says that she had numerous intimate encounters with various men, one which led to the conception of the twins Stella and Sarina, which explains their drastic appearance difference to their older siblings Sapphire and Kimberly. Sophia has gotten very disturbing letters in the past from other members of the Walters family stating that the younger twins should not get anything from the Walters fortune when Sophia passes.
Despite all the harshness from other members of her family, Sophia cares deeply for all her children, especially her grandchild. She just hopes the sins of her past do not catch up with her.
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Verse information
Au: Zᵒᵐᵇᵃᵉ ;;
➜ ( general information )
Full name : Shirogane Takashi
Nicknames : Shiro
Age : 20
Species / Status: Slightly undead, slightly human and slightly something unknown.
Date of birth : Feb. 29th
Occupation : Paladin
Sexuality : Pansexual
➜ ( appearance )
Height : 6'6"
Weight : 198ibs ( 89.81kg )
Hair color : White
Eye color : Brown with flecks of an iridescent blue.
Distinguishing features : Eyes, Teeth, Size, Scars, Prosthetic right arm.
➜ ( background information )
Current residence : S p a c e / Earth.
Financial status : –
Education level : Above average.
Father & mother : Father is Deceased. Mother is Shirogane Hoshiko.
Siblings : None.
➜ ( things )
Likes : Music, Animals, People, Being of Use, Protecting them, Having fun with the team.
Dislikes : Fighting, Problems within the team that go unresolved, Violence in general, Himself, Zarkon, the Arena, The war they’re in, etc etc.
Hobbies : Training, Drawing, Piano, Violin.
Always : Writing in his journal to document things but writes in Alien languages he’s picked up over the time he’s been a prisoner and traveling. Ready for a fight. Battling his own inner self and thoughts. Doing his best for the others. Protective of everyone around him. Wondering what could’ve been different. Contemplates often about how he’s “Alive” and how to function anymore.
Is : Self loathing to an extreme. Extremely calculating and tactile. Listening to everything around him at all times. Aware of his surroundings at all times. Plagued by nightmares. Lacking in sleep most of the time. Looking towards the team.
Defense Skill Set : Well trained in Aikidō, Daitō-ryū Aiki-jūjutsu, Isshin-ryū & Shaolin wushu prior to the Kerberos mission. Trained in other areas of defense in the Arena.
➜ ( summary )
He died in the battle against Zarkon, protected in the astral plane with the Black Lion’s spirit and often providing some semblance of help and aid as best he could, Shiro was unmistakably gone from the living plane. Watching his team through Black’s eyes, he would often find himself distressed due to the fact that there was another him there, someone who was definitely not him yet didn’t find any reason to be particularly afraid of what that might mean. The clone didn’t present any threat to his loved ones yet and even seemed disturbed and panicked by his own behaviour when he did snap, leaving Shiro to be worried soon after and trying to claw through the veil in order to find some solution to the matter. It wasn’t until the full blown battle happened that he was soon greeted with the stark reality that someone was pulling him back from the Astral plane.
When Princess Allura brought him back, something went slightly amiss. Altean magic was a complex thing after all and bringing someone back from the veil even if they had been protected and kept suspended in it was going to have some kind of complication. After all, nothing came without consequence. They don’t know what to expect, truly and neither does he. The first day is probably the easiest, he spent most of it asleep and trying to regain his strength. The following days however were filled with an immeasurable amount of guilt and pain. He felt sorrowful that the clone of himself, a person who regarded himself as Shiro and had honestly been trying so hard to just be a paladin, who tried to warn Lance and who tried hard to keep a hold on himself; had died as a result of his creator’s whims. Shiro recognized the clone as an individual and in that, hoped that Black would take care of his spirit as well and spent hours talking to his Lion about the matter.
They were watching him closely, the others. Wanting to make sure there were no side-effects to what he’d been through was understandable, really. What they hadn’t been expecting was a sudden decline in health the following day. Even less so the fact that he seemed to have bio-luminescent saliva and the like. His teeth glowed with every cough, revealing them to be sharper than they had been and his skin flushed an odd hue of a lighter red mixed in with what seemed like the same iridescent flecks that his eyes and fluids contained. Clearly, he was no longer simply human, much to his own dismay upon the discovery. Food goo wasn’t doing much for him nutritionally, everyone was baffled and he had no idea on how to proceed. He no longer needed to sleep as much, if at all and somehow or another he seemed to stall in functions every now and then. At random points he’d stop walking and seem to blank out, unsure of how to proceed due to having not been among the living for over a year.
He suddenly preferred raw foods to cooked foods and would be seen with glowing teeth and eyes whenever he was just wandering about to check things out. Alien Zombisim was definitely a perplexing thing. Beyond that, not much seemed to have changed. He was still clearly Shiro and still had no problems fighting or being as tactile as he was before his death. He even seemed to have that much of a stronger presence and bond with his lion and an unearthly connection to certain Altean elements.
➜ ( notes )
Sometimes he forgets what certain bodily functions means. His stomach growling often startles him because he hasn’t heard it or felt it in over a year and in that: It spooks him. The others have to remind him sometimes to take care of himself as well because he easily forgets. He’s often seen sitting in windowsills, staring off into the vast expanse of space because he feels even more drawn to it and even more a part of it than he had before due to his deep connection with the Astral plane.
#Au: Zᵒᵐᵇᵃᵉ ;;#OOC#L: ᵍᵃʳᵈᵉᶰ ᵏᵉᵉᵖᵉʳ | ˡᵉᵒ ;;#Verse Details;#Teeth //#Eye contact //#L: Doodles;#Scars //#ANOTHER THING TO BLAME#Hecared#FOR!! I wouldn't have thought so much on this verse#if it wasn't ENCOURAGED OF ME#Enabler--#I have exactly zero icons for this just yet--#BUT I'M WORKIN' ON IT#Long post //
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BASICS.
Full name: Sara Quinn Lance
Nicknames:
Age: 31
Date of birth: December 25, 1987
Zodiac sign: Capricorn
Gender identity & pronouns: She/Her/Hers
Sexual orientation: Bisexual
Faceclaim: Caity Lotz
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CHARACTER.
Relationship status: Single and content
Place of birth: Starling City General
Birth order: Second Born
Spoken languages: English, Latin, Arabic
Accent: American
Parents & siblings: Quentin Lance ( father ), Dinah Lance ( mother ), Laurel Lance (sister)
Hometown: Star City
Key relationships: Laurel Lance ( sister ), Felicity Smoak ( pseudo-sister ), Nyssa al Ghul ( ex lover ), Jason Todd ( ex boyfriend ), Ray Palmer ( friend/teammate ), Amaya Jiwe ( friend/teammate), Nate Haywood ( friend/teammate ), Mick Rory ( friend/teammate ), Jax Jefferson ( pseudo brother / former teammate ), Martin Stein ( friend/ former teammate ), Carter Hall ( friend/teammate ), Kendra Saunders ( friend/teammate ), Leonard Snart ( friend/teammate ), Candice Reeves ( teammate ).
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PERSONALITY.
Positive traits: sly, steadfast, adventurous, loving
Negative traits: tactless, scornful, extreme, sordid
MBTI type (x): ISFP -- The Composer
Moral alignment (x): Chaotic Neutral
Enneagram type (x): The Protector
Temperament (x): Sanguine
Big Five personality type (x) Openness
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PHYSICAL.
Hair color & style: Sara, naturally, has dirty blonde hair with the ends lightened with all the sun exposure.
Facial hair: None-- but let’s be real if she did, she’d still be beautiful as hell.
Eye color: Blue
Complexion: Fair with freckles along the tops of her cheeks and along the bridge of her nose.
Ethnicity: Eastern European/ French
Height: 5′6
Weight: 126
Physique: Sara is a tiny person but she carries a more muscular build.
Strengths: Physically speaking, Sara has a mastery in long and short sword. An extensive knowledge in tai chi and other mixed martial arts. Due to her time spent abroad, Sara’s capacity to endure different climates and elemental changes has formed her ability to adapt. She also has a sickeningly high pain tolerance.
Weaknesses: Sara’s inability to connect on an emotional level when dealing with her own demons leaves her open to the bitter chill; this affects the way in which she deals with certain moral situations.
Movement: Fluid yet precise much like in the teachings of iaido ( a style of japanese martial arts )
Mannerisms & habits: Sara is an excitable human being. She talks with her hands and pretty much every part of her body when she feels like it’s needed. She can also communicate feelings and thoughts through subtle movements. Sara doesn’t allow life to swallow her faith in the future. It’s within that class of thought that allows her to being life and humor into everything she does.
Tattoos: Sara has two little ‘X’s on her wrist as well as a small canary tattoo on the inner corner of her heel.
Piercings: Piercings are prone to being ripped out. She used to have multiple piercings as a teenage.
Scars & birthmarks: Sara is scarred over 35% of her body. Small marred patches of skin along her back from crash on Lian Yu. Long slash marks across her back from her initiation into the League. A cluster of shrapnel removed and scarred along her calf from a grenade in Algiers. A single bullet hole on her shoulder from a .38. A wide gash like scar from being impaled by a spear.
Clothing & style: Sara has quite the street style way of dressing. A lot of henleys, utility jackets, and combat boots. Considering her time on the waverider, her chose of dress is also dictated by where they are geographically in time.
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BEHAVIOUR & HABITS
Personal habits/addictions: Sara is a pacer by nature. She likes to constantly be moving. Moreover, it’s one of the last lessons of the League. You couldn’t be killed if you’re always on the move. She also has a slight addiction to anything overly sweet ( like gummy bears ).
Morning routine: Sara starts her day reviewing the temporal map that outlines all the anachronisms with Gideon. While the rest of the crew is still sound asleep, she trains in the cargo bay for about an hour and a half. Finally, when everyone’s wake, she reconvenes in the Captain’s quarters for some zen time.
Afternoon: By the afternoon, something has either busted, broke, or is on fire. Sara is usually zoom in and out of time.
Evening routine: Some evenings don’t find their end. If there’s a tear in time, she can hardly feel the shift between day and night in all the chaos.
Sleep habits: Sara’s sleep averages between three or so hours. She’s very restless with all the pressure that came with her position on the ship. On top of her duties, Sara is naturally a night owl. It’s the time she feels the most herself.
Does this character snore? Sometimes.
Any special talents or skills? Besides being an amazing lover ( lol ). Sara is quite the baker. It was a passion she had before stepping onto the Gambit. There weren’t many things that she could best Laurel except when it came to cooking. Sara often used to watch their mother in the kitchen when they were young; it all seemed to stick.
What is s/he particularly unskilled at? Sara isn’t particularly skilled in the art of compromise. It’s the Star City in her that coated her with an unfathomable amount of stubbornness.
Does s/he have a supernatural ability? If yes, describe it. Does being kick ass qualify?
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OTHER
Current address: Sara currently is a resident of the Waverider. The Time Bureau wasn’t tried to collect the stolen time ship ( woo! ). When she isn’t floating about time, Sara shacked up with Star City’s other technical genius, Barbara Gordon in her old watch tower.
Does s/he rent or own? As Captain--she technically owns the waverider.
Does s/he live with anyone? If so, who? Her team of course!
What is their bedroom like? Sara’s quarters are decked out in chrome, per the general aesthetic of the waverider. She has pictures of her family scattered along the love hanging curve of the ceiling. Her belongs nestled in a black duffle by her bed for a rapid exit.
FOR FUN: What side would they land on?
Neutral
Morally Grey
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Something @radioactivesupersonic has said about how it doesn’t make sense if the Garrison is an ‘evil’ organisation, and to look at its employees, reminded me of a comparison that could be made.
See, I have an example of an actual ‘evil’ organisation where you can judge it by both its actions, and its employees.
Both Shinra and the Garrison are largely military.
Shinra has the army and SOLDIER and not only that, but weapons development as well (among other things). The Garrison, however, is tied to another organisation (likely the US government) that has authority over it.
The Garrison’s military status involves training their cadets and other officers to be able to defend themselves, and also to fly in defensible ways to avoid obstacles in space (such as an asteroid field). There might be weapons training, but whereas in Shinra that would be expected to be put to practical use, in the Garrison I’d say that it’s most likely for the sake of building discipline, the same reason anyone goes to a martial arts class.
Shinra’s science division is openly feared by other employees, and makes SOLDIERs and other staff members uncomfortable. The head of this department is someone who sees people as potential projects and experiments, and once they are, they are no longer people. Regardless of whether or not Sephiroth actually is Hojo’s son, Hojo still abused him in this way, and did not give the kid any love or support, and did not allow the boy to grow up in a loving, supportive atmosphere. Hollander, another leading scientist, has a very similar attitude. These experiments are kept from the rest of the company barring the President, and when subjects escape, they are hunted down with extreme prejudice.
The Galaxy Garrison’s scientific minds are a part of the infrastructure of the Garrison, and highly regarded by pretty much everyone. One of the leading scientists is someone who has a family - one that loves and respects him, and his children are highly defensive of him, ready to go to great lengths to get him back. Just as important is the fact that - despite Katie’s own negative experience with it - the Garrison has a school which openly teaches about the newest developments, keeping the youth educated. Katie also shows that she is able to be proud of the developments that her family are a part of discovering.
When someone disappeared from Shinra’s employ, we have various examples of how people reacted to this news. The first two disappearances less relevant to the third; with Zack’s disappearance we have Luxiere and Kunsel sending emails saying how they would help - Luxiere saying that Zack should ‘let himself be captured’ so that Luxiere could use a potential higher rank to get him out, and Kunsel offering to help in any way that he could. The rest of Shinra itself had to either work against itself (the Turks) due to this technically being a case of acting against orders, or... well, the army literally gunned Zack down. It’s as simple as that. And we don’t know what happened to Kunsel.
When confronted with the disappearance of Shiro, Matt, and Sam, the Garrison... well, instead of an impersonal email saying ‘killed in action: name here’, there was a TV broadcast which allowed everyone to know an admittedly edited version of the truth that was acceptable for the general public to know. Which clearly wasn’t acceptable to everyone, since we then see Katie breaking and entering into Iverson’s office, and yet... Iverson lets her go with a warning, a slap on the wrist for bad behaviour. What’s more, the Garrison isn’t at fault for the disappearance of their people, and when one of them - Shiro - reappears, they take safety measures to ensure that someone who is clearly in a state of panic doesn't injure them, but also that Shiro doesn’t injure himself.
Important to note: the worst things that Lance, Hunk, and Pidge are afraid of when assaulting the Garrison camp that’s been put up to investigate Shiro’s crashed Galran fighter, is that they’re going to get into trouble. At seeing their actual teachers out there and racing after them, they are afraid of being caught, but they do certainly not seem afraid of being killed. If the Garrison was a front for an ‘evil’ organisation that was going to experiment on any alien tech they could get their hands on, then the kids would have noticed something more going on than ‘why aren’t they hearing [Shiro] out’ and ‘aw man, I think that was Prof. Montgomery’. This show is not that subtle when it comes to pointing out when something suspicious is going on. Also, when they get away, the next thing we know of the Garrison is... Iverson and someone else being confused at the ‘Flying Blue Lion, sir.’ Which is both humanising and also indicative of ‘these are not the kind of people who are going to shoot it down to examine it.’
Something else we’ve talked about in chats is how compared to both the Garrison and the Galra Empire, Shinra’s tactic of draining the Planet in order to get power is far more like Zarkon’s approach of harvesting quintessence than the Garrison... literally just going out places to be excited and nerd out over new science. That’s literally the first thing that we see Garrison scientists do. Sam and Matt Holt being excited to explore and gain new knowledge.
So... I’d say that even though it’s not great all of the time, FFVII does a decent job of portraying how, through the average employee, the general workings of Shinra are suspect and that it is not a safe place to work, and that it’s not a safe world to inhabit because Shinra is in control. People are afraid of the scientists, the people we see as heroes are seen questioning their loyalty to the company (Zack, in the first chapter of Crisis Core) while still working for it, and those who talk or act against the company are dispatched and killed rather than talked to (CC, VII, BC).
The Garrison on the other hand encourages learning, the upper ranks are seen as human and not people to be afraid of unless you give them good reason to be angry (Lance’s team in the first episode not working as a team, the future Paladins stealing away someone who should have been in quarantine), their memories of being back on Earth and thinking of the Garrison are fond, and good. Sneaking out does not seem to have major consequences, and if it does, none of Lance, Hunk, or Pidge are all that bothered by them. Keith, who is expelled from the Garrison, is not hunted down, and does not seem to be afraid when coming face to face with Garrison scientists and a full camp of assorted others. The Garrison is often shown in warm lights, associated with good memories, and we have not in five entire whole seasons even heard of a single person protesting at the Garrison’s gates. Which, I’m sure we’d have had someone mention if that was a thing people did, if there was anyone who thought the Garrison was doing anything inhumane or non-ethical.
Basically... we have examples, actual examples of what it’s like when a military-scientific organisation does unethical things, and how that affects the protagonists, as well as everyday people. For VLD, this is... not one of those cases. We never see any of those signs or symptoms of something being wrong in the system. VLD is also not that subtle, and it’s easy to pick out when something is going wrong.
With that said, I think the intention is that the Galaxy Garrison is supposed to be a hero-backing organisation that may well come further into play in future seasons (hopefully sooner rather than later) and that will come to Earth’s defence for the sake of ‘this is the right thing to do, and why we’re here’ rather than the shady group that’s supposedly going to experiment on anything different and strange that some people seem to think it might be, or might have been at one point.
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By Myself
Author: The Unaccomplished Writer (tumblr: @theunaccomplishedwriter)
Artist: Skulpin (tumblr: @skulpin)
Summary:
He’s all packed. He’s got his ticket. He’s got a place lined up to stay. He’s more than ready to leave. Now all he has to do is get on that plane. Problem is that it’s ever so slightly delayed. Stuck in an airport in the middle of the night, Lance wanders round the airport, taking in his final look of the sights and animals that make up this country before he leaves for good. But will a last phone call change his mind?
It’s a strange thing; an airport in the small hours of the morning. If you stop to think about it, we all have the same sort of preconceived notions of what an airport is like, even if you’ve never been to one.
The frantic dashers hurrying over to the checkout desk before being told they were seconds too late; the complaints of being stuck too long in the queue for security; the half-muttered swears as the metal detectors bleeps; the mutual discomfort of the security pat down, the inevitable item you left in your bag being flagged up and having to route through delicate packing to bring out the most innocuous item.
Then, after all that effort, you’re waved through without a word and you’re left with the nigh impossible task of repacking your previously impeccably packed bag into some semblance of order. All this while an animal with bags under her eyes and uniform straining against her ever expanding paunch, glowers at you as the queue of irritated animals grows ever larger behind your overpacked suitcase lid.
The groans, moans, screeches and squeaks are all expected, all part of the experience as much as whining children and terrible airline food. It’s almost half the reason you go, just to complain about it afterwards to your friends, all of whom gives knowing nods of agreeance.
Yet once the sun dips over the horizon, all the frenzied activity slows to a lethargic crawl. Gone are the throngs of animals heading off in all directions for flights, all hopeful and excited. In their place comes the bleary-eyed and weary passengers who mill around the near empty airport, making the most of the cheaper fares and below average vending machine teas. The legions of alert and helpful staff shepherding them to their correct destinations are by undervalued and underpaid staff of nocturnal and diurnal bent who put more effort into finding a quiet corner to kip in than assisting their exhausted travellers.
Sitting in one of the airport’s many near identical waiting room, Lance drummed his digits against his knees as he attempted in vain to get himself comfy in his chair. Lance sat perched on the metallic edge of the fabric backed chair, his paw brushing his back occasionally, making sure he hadn’t in-avertedly skewered the chair’s mauve fabric.
Readjusting himself for the umpteenth time, Lance glanced over at the departure board to once again verify what he already knew. Flight MK 5876 to Anopolis International Airport was delayed. Lance groaned before resumed his knee drumming with renewed fervour.
Six hours.
Six bloody hours of hanging in limbo.
The plane had arrived on time, the luggage carefully thrown on, the crew having filed past him and down the walkway in their pristine uniforms. All seemed to be going like clockwork. But then the soulless sounding tannoy bonged tunelessly before the lady announcer, speaking as if she had all emotions forcibly removed from her very being, informed the animals of Flight MK 5876 that there would be a delay due a ‘technical issue’. Even Lance, for all lack of flying, knew that that was the international code for ‘we have no clue but don’t panic, we’ll figure it out… we hope’.
That was at twenty past seven. It was now verging towards half past one.
“Bloody airports,” Lance grumbled, his uncomfortable seating arrangements not helping his mood in the slightest. “Get you all worried about arriving on time, make you go through all the palaver of security and rushing you to your gate only to keep you hanging round like you’re on the dole.”
Looking round the sparsely populated waiting room, Lance saw that he, along with the two flamingo flight attendants manning the gate, were the only animals still awake. The rest had wisely decided to collectively nod off than torture themselves with the arduous task of consciously waiting for their flight. One of those who had taken the slumbering route was a particularly large grizzly bear in a two sizes too small t-shirt who decided at that very moment to start snoring right down Lance’s ear.
Taking that as his cue, Lance grabbed his carry-on bag and made his way out of the waiting area, to both escape the deafening noise and to let the blood return to his pained legs.
Exiting the waiting area, Lance found himself amongst the mostly shut shops, with only Veggie King soldiering through the wee hours, the chimp cashier slumped against the counter while his squirrel co-worker slept in the crook of his folded arm.
Passing the shuttered shops, Lance peered into their darkened interiors, their wares on display as if to tease low minded animals to take a crack at stealing them while a CCTV camera watched voyeuristically from a near hidden corner.
“Then again,” Lance thought, “with the prices they charge it might be worth nicking a magazine or two.”
Looking back at the magazines and newspapers however, emblazoned with vapid or hateful headlines, Lance resisted the urge to shoplift. It was the usual dross anyway. Sensationalist newspapers telling you to fear their immigrant neighbours, gaudy magazines shaming women into being another dress size smaller, or dirty magazines showing off a sow’s breasts as if she were a piece of meat while simultaneously shaming her for apparent slutty behaviour. Pushing himself away from the shops, his stomach reminded him of a more pressing need, letting out a gargantuan gurgle.
“Oh yeah, guess I haven’t eaten in a while,” Lance thought, as he began to rummage around his pockets. After pulling out some loose coppers, paper receipts and a spare plectrum that he thought he had lost a month ago, a Gekko chocolate bar was finally prised from its Demin tomb. Unwrapping it and snapping the lizard shaped chocolate in two between his teeth, Lance savoured the taste while internally bemoaning the twenty-five pence price tag.
“25p for a Gekko? Jesus, what’s the country coming to?” Lance moaned before shoving the other half of confectionary delight into his gob.
Pocketing the empty wrapper and swallowing the remnants of the chocolate, Lance resumed wandering before making his way over to the other near deserted waiting rooms. It took nearly ten minutes of aimless meandering before Lance saw something other than empty rooms and disaffected staff.
Idling up to the glass exterior of the waiting room, Lance looked over the artificially lit scene. Seated in slumbering tableaux; armadillos, crocodiles, deer, a lone squirrel, and a family of skunks were all in the collective land of nod. Some alone, some in clusters, some cutely cuddled together, some trying to rend themselves apart. Yet all slept on into the night, their consciousnesses on a joint voyage into timeless dreams.
All except one animal.
A lone hog remained conscious, his piglets all unconscious around him, having given up the ghost on trying to stay conscious any longer a long time ago. While the seven piglets remained lent against each other in an attempt to get some form of comfort, their middle-aged father’s eyes remained wide open, transfixed on the delayed sign lit at the other end of the room. It was as he was in a trance. The snoring not putting him off. The unchanging sign not distracting him. The fact that a teenage porcupine openly staring at him not even registering with his internal parental sensors. The father’s eyes remained transfixed as if, by sheer power of will, he could make his flight any less delayed than it already was.
“You can’t change it,” Lance tiredly yawned. “no matter how much you want it to.” Lance shook his head, pushing the fatigue and thoughts back down as he left the waiting area, leaving the portly pig to keep his faithful watch.
After twenty more minutes of taking in all the same sterile scenes, Lance turned a corner and slammed his knee right into a metal chair.
“Goddammit,” Lance grumbled, nursing his bruised knee. Looking up, Lance saw the distinctive Crocsta Coffee logo, the bold, pure white letters standing in stark contrast to the storefront’s green scale façade.
The regular staff had clearly decided not to bother about cleaning up at the end of their shift and it didn’t seem that the night staff were particularly fussed about turning up to work if the unlit shop interior was anything to go by.
Coffee cups were dotted around like the dead animals on a battlefield, each one having either lost too much fluid or had succumbed to terrible effects of hypothermia. Even their confectionary comrades in arms had suffered similar fates, their plastic wrappings being shredded to bits, with scattered crumbs being the only other indication of their existence.
Manoeuvring his way around the wobbly metal tables and chairs to one of the few clean tables, Lance dumped his bag onto vacant chair beside him, the faux leather suitcase landing with a loud thud.
“The hell’s that thing still together?” Lance thought, giving his weathered and weary suitcase a cursory glance. He’d had it since God knows when. He remembered having it as a young porcupette, the suitcase stashed under his bed for toys to be crammed in when he was told to tidy his room. Then it was used to put music sheets. Songs, albums, and entire discographies had gone in and out of that suitcase as they went from unknown, to learning, to committed to memory and discarded. It had been used for holidays, as an emergency school bag, occasional weapon against bullies, and sturdy seat on packed buses and trains.
And now it contained his life, or at least, the bits he wanted to take. Looking at the case, the years etched on it from its worn handles, frayed straps and peeling stickers, Lance couldn’t help but give a wry smile at how this bit of luggage had managed to stay with him all his life.
“It’s probably older than me,” Lance thought, a soft chuckle tickling his throat. “Certainly been around all my life. Which is more than can be said for some…”
Quickly, Lance aggressively shook his head, as if the very action could avert his mind from wandering down that particular mental avenue.
“No more of that,” Lance quietly berated himself, anger quickly flashing across his face as he tried to reign in his mind. Looking for a distraction, Lance squinted at a departures board in the distance, the word delayed in pale yellow letters just about visible to Lance’s strained eyes.
Reaching into his pocket, Lance fished out his phone. Flipping open the old model, Lance quickly read over the time. Twenty past two. Shutting the phone with a firm click Lance let out a weary sigh, repocketed it without a word.
“Not even worth moaning about now,” Lance mused as he made himself comfortable.
“Maybe I can rest my eyes,” Lance reasoned as his eyes began to droop. “Just for five minutes.”
Closing his eyes closing and letting his mind shut down, Lance was ready to not think for a few minutes. He needed a fresh start. A new beginning. A new story. A better story. A story without-
The sudden chiming of his phone put a halt to all those thoughts as Lance’s eyes shot open angrily.
“The hell?” Lance said angrily, thrusting his paw into his jeans pocket. “I thought I blocked everyone already?”
Flipping the phone open and ringing his phone to his face in one fluid motion, Lance’s thumb was poised to smash the decline button with all his might. However, his eyes had other ideas, catching a glimpse of the caller ID, causing his brain to halt his thumb mere millimetres from cancel button.
Staring at the phone’s screen, Lance’s read and re-read the name. His face swung between fury and joy like a pendulum, before settling on remorse.
“Goddammit,” Lance thought, pressing the phone against his forehead. “I should have told her.”
The phones’ shrill ring kept sounding out, each trill becoming more and more urgent in Lance’s ears.
“I’m going to regret this,” Lance said, his heart winning over his head, as he shifted his thumb across to the green answer button, pressing it gently and raising the phone to his ear.
“Hey, what’s up?” Lance said with forced normalcy.
“Quilt?! That you?!” the voice asked urgently.
“Hey Slyv, and if you mean Lance, then yes this is he.” Came Lance’s slightly irritated reply.
“Quilt where the hell are you?!” Slyv roared down the phone. “I’ve been looking high and low for you! Been round your house, the Two Sticks, Live Nite, the Blue Shoe, Croc Rock, the Viper Underground, everywhere! Hell, I’ve even been to Old Drummond’s place and even he’s worried! And this is from the guy who still hasn’t forgiven you after the whole pineapple incident! I knew you were probably gonna be a no show at the ceremony but I never thought you’d skip on gig! I’ve missed Sarlon Moseby because of you, y’know? The Sarlon Moseby! You’d better have a good reasoning for making me worry sick and make me miss out on seeing him! The tickets cost an arm and leg. Yours if I have my way! I’ve been seriously pulling out my fur and you know how much I love my fur! So I’ll say again, the hell are you Quilt?!”
“Okay, first off,” Lance said calmly after he was sure Slyv had quite finished. “you went round everywhere we go but you didn’t think to ringing me till gone two o’clock in the morning?”
“I’ve been worried!” Slyv barked down the phone. “You know I don’t deal with stress well and you disappearing into thin air has had me very stressed. Besides, your phone is like a million years old-”
“It’s like six years old!” Lance interrupted defensively.
“A million years old!” Slyv reaffirmed. “God knows why you haven’t just upgraded like a normal animal. Doesn’t keep battery, only texts when it wants to, cuts out on calls or just flat out doesn’t receive them! I’m surprised I’ve managed to get you to be honest. I was expecting the usual static or just flatlining boops.”
“Alright you made your point Slyv! I’ll get a new phone, okay!”
“About damn time Quilt.” Slyv commented smugly. “I knew you’d come into the twenty-first century like the rest of us sooner or later.”
“So, as I was saying,” Lance commented loudly. “secondly can you please stop calling me Quilt? We’re not six anymore,” Lance said as he kneaded the bridge of his muzzle with his fingers. “My name is Lance. L-A-N-C-E. You know, medieval knights used them and all that? Thought even you could remember a name.”
“Oh yeah, I remember your name Lance,” Slyv said, Lance feeling the quotation marks she was giving down the line. “But anyway, I still prefer Quilt. It’s way cuter. And you are soft like a quilt and you’re a big softie! Well, you used to be. But stop trying to distract me Quilt! Where are you?! I am freaking out here and you need to give me a hell of a good reason or I’m going to have to pull out your quills and make you into a life size voodoo doll!”
Lance winced at the thought, knowing that was not some sort of hypothetical threat. He still remembered the time when he faked a Hendrix autograph and she believed and told the whole school. The memory of her enraged eyes and grabbing paws yanking out his quills and skewering them back into him like he was some sort of a living shish kebab was seared in his mind in glorious technicolour.
“Alright, alright I’ll tell you Slyv. Just don’t be mad, okay?”
“Why would I be mad?” Slyv asked, her voice becoming worried very quickly. “What’s happening?”.
Lance breathed deeply, readying himself for the onslaught.
“I’m leaving Slyv.”
“Wha-what d’you mean leaving?” came Slyv’s puzzled reply.
“I mean I’m leaving. I’ve packed up and I’m going tonight.”
The phone was silent for a second, the words hanging in the air, as Lance’s mind just began to comprehend the finality of what he just said.
“This is it.” Lance contemplated silently. “I’m actually going. And I’m not coming back. Ever. I mean, I’m actually going. It’s not just a plan anymore, nothing just swirling round my head. I’m actually leaving. God, I can’t believe it. A whole other continent. With no-one I know there. Not even Slyv. Is this okay? No, this is right. I need to do this. I have to go. I can’t stay after-”
“You’re leaving?” Slyv chimed in, taking Lance’s attention away from those nagging thoughts. “You mean, you’re leaving town?”
“I mean, yeah I am but-.”
“Is that all?! God Quilt you were had me worried there! Finally putting the plan into action then? Heading down London way, are you?”
“Erm, not exact-”.
“I thought it was just a pipe dream when you said you wanted to move away. I mean I completely understand why you’d want to. It’s been crap. God knows it has. But most animals who say they’re moving end up just going down the road or something. But you’re actually doing it? You’re actually leaving! I would say congratulations but did you have to do it on results day Quilt? I wanted photos of us together, going mental about our results and getting into our Uni’s after seventeen hours on the phone with UCAS.”
“Slyv.” Lance said, vainly attempting to shoehorn himself into the increasingly one-sided conversation.
“And then the gig! You know I’ve been looking forward to that for ages! And you pull your own great escape now?! Seriously Quilt, sometimes I don’t know what to do with you, you scruffy urchin. I mean you living down in London, eh? God, you’re going to have such a great time down there. They may even like those two quills you keep putting in your shirts for God knows what reason I know it’s meant to be punk or whatever but it seriously doesn’t suit you. You look like a wannabe.”
“Slyv.”
“But hey, since you’re in London I’ll be able to come down and visit. I mean it’s only two hours on the train so I can crash with you right? I’m sure you’ll have space for little old me and my bushy tail. You have got a place set up, haven’t you? Or are you going to be bumming round a few hostels first?”
“Slyv, listen.”
“If you got somewhere to crash yet I’ve got an uncle down there if you like. Well, a sort of uncle. I think he was my neighbour when I was nine or something and he helped my dad move some furniture or something. You know, one of those uncles.”
“Slyv, just stop a se-”
“Anyway, he’s super nice and I’m sure he’d be willing to put you up for a few weeks. And I know what you’re thinking but you wouldn’t be in the way.”
“Just wai-”
“I know London placed are a bit cramped but the guy’s a polar bear. You’d be able to roll on the sofa bed for days before you came within touching distance of the edge. It’ll be perfect for you! God, I’m almost jealous of you! You’re gonna have a gr-”
“SLYVIA!” Lance bellowed down the phone, spittle speckling the receiver.
“Alright, alright, geez. No need to blow out my eardrums Quilt.”
“Sorry Slyv, it’s just you weren’t listening to me. Again.”
“Alright, I’m sorry my prickly porcupine. So, what do you want to tell me then? Must be pretty serious if you’re calling me by my full first name.”
Lance took a deep breath.
“I’m not-”
“You do know only you and my mum do that, right? It’s weird. At least you don’t do the whole full name thing. I know I’m in proper trouble when I hear my mum yell my name like blue bloody murder.”
“Slyv,” Lance groaned in irritation. “You were listening. Remember? Not a few moments ago? D’you mind doing that again for maybe a few fractions of a second more?”
“Sorry Quilt. I’ll shut up now. What did you want to say?”
“Thank you. Anyway-”
“Oh my God, you’re not gonna do one of those emotional goodbyes, are you Quilt?”
“What? No! Just listen for a mi-”
“You know I’ll cry if you do and you do not want me when I’m all weepy.”
“Slyv, for God’s sake just listen-”
“I know it’s only down south but and you’re not that far away but if you make me weep up I’m coming straight down there to wipe my tears on you before dragging your prickly butt back-”
“I’M GOING TO AMERICA SLYVIA!”
The phone suddenly went scarily quiet. Gone was Slyv’s chirpy yet incessant voice, being replaced by sheer nothingness. No comments, no laughter, not even breathing. It was as if Lance’s words had erased her from existence.
“Slyv, you there?” Lance said tentatively, hoping for some semblance of a response.
Nothing.
“Slyv, you alright?”
Still nothing.
“C’mon Slyv, you’re freaking me out now.”
The phone remained deathly silent.
“It’s not that big of a deal Slyv,” Lance began to reason, already knowing he was clutching at straws. “It’s not as if I’m going to the moon or anything. I can still call you and stuff. It’s just I, I need to get out of here. London isn’t far enough. Hell, Europe isn’t far enough. I just need to make a clean break of things, you know?”
Hearing no change down the line, Lance decided to change tact.
“I’ve thought this through. I can get by on the money I have for now until I get my own place and the Uni was very understanding. I sorted it out a few days ago. Sorry Slyv. I know you were looking forward to getting our results together, but I needed mine early so I managed to pull a few strings since, you know, I did quite well and all. And it’s not as if I’ve thrown everything away or anything. I just need time. They said they’ll hold my place as long as I want it so-”
“How long?” came Slyv’s curt, emotionless reply.
“How long what?”
“How long have you had this planned?”
Lance gulped, his throat suddenly feeling like sandpaper.
“A year or a year and a half. Probably, probably just over year and a half now.”
“A year and a half.” Slyv said, letting the comment hang as if it were on the gallows for the public to see and lob rotten tomatoes at.
“A year and a half,” Slyv finally restated. “and you didn’t tell me? Not once? Me. Your best friend. I’ve stuck with you through thick and thin, you know? We’ve done so much together Quilt. Hell, I can barely remember a time before you turned up. And now what? You’re leaving just like that? Without even telling me? Not even a text. You were just gonna up and go and leave me without a word? The hell Quilt! Do I mean nothing to you?!”
The guilt was seeping into Lance’s bones. He knew it would eventually, just perhaps not like this. He knew he should have told Slyv his plan, that she would have understood, or at least not stopped him. But her finding out like this? Hurting her like this? That had never been part of the plan.
“Slyv, I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?! Sorry doesn’t even begin to cut it! You were just gonna ship out and not say goodbye or anything. Not a word. And go to America? Where the hell you gonna go in America? Do you even know anyone in America?”
“Well, I mean sort of. I’ve never met them but I’ve got some animals who’ll lend me a hand for a little while at least. You know, out of obligation.”
“Oh, I see,” Slyv said, the anger still lingering in her voice. “So that’s it, huh? You’re just dropping everything here like a hot plate then?! Leave everything here behind and just rock up to these animal’s place out of nowhere and-”
“I’m not rocking up out of nowhere.” Lance countered, trying to assuage Slyv’s anger with some reason. “I managed to get in touch with them. Found some old contact info and one worked. They weren’t too happy but I guess they felt somewhat compelled to help me. Even if it’s just for a little while.”
“Yeah but that’s not gonna last forever and you know it! What happens when their hospitality withers up? Who are you gonna turn to then? Do you even know anyone else out there?”
“No, I don’t.” Lance replied, a note of conviction in his voice. “I’ll be a complete unknown. Just another guy out there and not someone to speak in hushed voices about. If I stay here, or anywhere in the UK, something or someone will remind me. I’ll see something, or hear something, or go somewhere and it’ll remind me. Remind me what happened and it’ll be real all over again. And I just, I just can’t deal with that anymore. I just need to get away, at least for now.”
“But how long’s for now?” Slyv asked, a note of panic entering her voice. “A year? Two? Ten? Your whole life? Will I ever see you again?”
“Of course, Slyv. I’m not gonna stop seeing you. Hell, I’ll even get a new phone so I can FaceTime with you or something. You’re probably the only animal that I want to keep in touch with.”
“But not an animal that can make you stay?”
Lance remained silent for a moment, letting her words wash over him. The guilt making itself known anew.
“Should I do this?” Lance thought. “I mean, I can go back now. There’s nothing stopping me. Well my bags are on the plane but I’m sure another delay to get them back won’t be too much of a problem. Hell, even if they go to America and get flown back I can just collect them another time and pay whatever fine I need to. But nothing would change though. I need to get away. To strive out on my own. Don’t I?”
“Quilt,” she pleaded, oblivious to Lance’s internal argument. “you’ll know no-one there. You’ll be all on your own. Is that what you want? I, I know you’re hurting right now, and I know you don’t want to hear this, but d’you think running away is going to change things? You’ve got a life here. You’ve got friends here. You’ve got-”
Lance’s grip on the phone tightened as his whole body tensed up, his second thoughts evaporating in an instant.
“Go on. What have I got?” Lance growled down the phone.
“I… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“That’s right! You shouldn’t have!” Lance said, his voice cracking with raw emotion. “She promised me! She promised me that she wouldn’t! And I believed her. I believed her with all my heart. All my stupid, stupid heart.”
Lance was physically shaking now. If animals had passed him by they would have thought he was on the verge of a fit. But there were none around to see the emotions running rampant throughout his body.
“She couldn’t keep her damn word! She… she couldn’t keep her promise,” Lance said, his voice and body suddenly deflated. “I... I did everything for her. To make her proud. To show her it was all worth it.”
“She was proud Quilt. She was so, so proud.”
“Clearly not proud enough.”
“Don’t you say that Quilt!” Slyv exclaimed, the sobs catching in her throat. “Don’t you ever dare say that!”
There was a brief moment of silence. The die was in Lance’s paw and he knew it. He could clench his paw, keep himself from making that choice. Turn back and return to the life that was his.
"What she did, that wasn’t her. I, I refuse to believe that was her. She wouldn’t have done that unless something went wrong. Really wrong. She wasn’t well Quilt. God knows you knew that better than anyone.”
His grip on his mental die tightened, his mind still a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.
“She lied to me Slyv.” Lance replied, his voice betraying the inner turmoil within him. “She… she promised that she would tell me if something was wrong. She’d be on the phone as soon as possible. That she’d get the bus all the way down to see me if necessary. But she didn’t.”
The tears were welling up now, yet then damn refused to break. Lance couldn’t let it, wouldn’t let it. But the words kept flowing on, as his mind tried valiantly to repress his hurt.
“What did I do wrong? Was I not enough? Did she not remember me? Remember the good times? Was I just another nameless animal to her? One of her nightmares? Did, did I matter at all?”
Lance’s mental grip loosened. The die beginning to roll free in his paw, its corners starting to turn against his fur.
“You know the last time I saw her she promised me. She looked me right in the eyes, promised and hugged me so tight it felt like the earth had stopped spinning, even if it was just for the briefest of seconds. She held me and promised to never let go. But she did. She let go and left me here alone.”
“That’s not-”
Booming over Slyv’s reply, a loud announcement resounded through the airport, shaking its residents out of their early morning slumber.
“We apologise for the delay. Flight MK 5876 to Anopolis is ready to board. All passengers please make your way to the departure gate for Flight MK 5876 to Anopolis.”
“-will be there for you.”
Lance thought a moment, the die still in his tenuous grasp. He could ask her to repeat what she said. Get the final emotional appeal from the one animal that could convince him to stay. Have it all laid bare before him so that he would pause for a moment and think, before turning on his heel and facing his world instead of fleeing from its presence. The door remained open, its light shining upon Lance.
“All passengers for Flight MK 5876 to Anopolis, please make your way to the departure gate as the flight is preparing to leave.”
The monotone voice cut through the illusion, the door vanishing from his mind’s eye. Clenching his hand once more, his grip softened, and a small crash reverberated around his mind as the die cast ripples, turning to tsunamis within him.
“Quilt? You still there?” came Slyv’s voice, catching on raw, unfettered emotion.
Lance took a moment, staring down at the where the die had landed, before he responded.
“Yeah, I’m here Slyv. Just, thank you. For everything. You’ve made everything bearable and you’re still my best friend. Hell, you’re practically family. But, this… this is just something I need do. I wish you could come with me, but you’ve got your own glorious life to live. Me on the other hand, I’ve got to do this by myself.
Lance sighed as he picked up his suitcase and started heading out of the Crocsta and towards the gate.
“Have a great life Slyv. See you around.”
“Quilt, wait-”
And with that Lance cut off the call.
Staring down at the phone, Lance made his way over to a bin. Stopping a few steps away from it, Lance gave his phone one last look. He’d had this phone for so long. It was still his first phone. The one she had given him.
His face suddenly becoming determined, he dropped the phone to the ground. It only had chance to bounce once before a heavy-footed stomp slammed it to the floor, the forced impact, crunching its frame into the polished floor, sending tiny shards of plastic and electronics sent skittering away from the epicentre of the carnage.
Picking up the main part of the carcass, Lance tossed it in the bin, his last contact with his old life well and truly gone. Adjusting his grip on his suitcase, Lance made his way back to the gate.
Upon his return, Lance quickly saw that he was clearly the last animal left to board, the two flamingos clearly irritated at having to wait even longer than absolutely necessary.
“Oi!” one called, pointed is feathery finger in his direction. “You getting on this flight or what?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming now.” Lance said, walking over to them. After a quick once over of his passport and boarding pass, Lance was let through as the flamingos quickly shut up shop at the gate.
Walking along the walkway towards the plane, Lance stopped but a moment. Looking out the plastic windows, across at the airport, Lance was struck by the thought that this was it. The last time he’d see this place. These animals. This world was ending and he was entering a new one. Alone.
“It’s fine,” Lance said determinedly. “I don’t need anyone else. Not anymore. I’ll do this by myself.”
Looking up, Lance breathed in deeply before stepping forward towards his unknown future.
After getting himself comfy in his seat as the plane began to taxi onto the runway, Lance closed his eyes. He felt the rumble, the tilt and then the nothingness below him.
“And so it begins,” Lance thought, his mind drifting as he let sleep take him, with dreams of success and fortune filtering into his brain as he soared into his unwritten future.
#sing 2016#sing movie#sing fanfiction#sing fanart#sing mini bang 2017#theunaccomplishedwriter#skulpin
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