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bbrandy2002 · 3 years

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Little Shit:

Part 1: Wrapped Around A Finger

This is for week 96 of @wackydrabbles prompt: I can't -- I have a deadline. Prompt will be in bold.

Okay, so I couldnt fit all of this into the 2000 word limit and had to break it up and didn't have the heart to cut.

@kingliam2019 you made a request for a Little Shit story on New Year’s Eve and it only took 5 months to come up with something, so this one is for you.

If you're unfamiliar with the Little Shit series (because it has been over a year since I wrote anything for it) Nikolas is Liam and Riley's 5 year old mischievous son who just can't help from wreaking havoc, especially toward Drake. He enjoys getting a rise out of him even if he does love his Uncle ... for the most part.

Warning: Crude Language. Mention of Covid and vaccinations.

Word count: 1928

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Returning from the stables one afternoon, Drake was stopped at the palace door by security -- again -- for not wearing the required mask to enter.

“Mr. Walker, I’m afraid you need to have a mask on before I can allow you inside. I have to tell you this every day.”

“That because I fucking live here,” Drake grumbled as he snagged the offered surgical mask from the guard.

“Not in the common areas, Mr. Walker.”

“You know this whole virus thing is just a conspiracy and Liam is using it to control all of us, right? He’s gone mad. This shit’s never gonna end.”

“I understand, sir.” The guard waited patiently as Drake begrudgingly slipped the mask over his face. “Perhaps, though, there is an alternative, one where you wouldn’t have to wear one anymore. They’re offering free vaccines in room 105 today. If you get the shot, you won’t need to wear a mask when you come inside,” the guard cajoled.

Drake let out a humorless laugh.“I’m sure that’s exactly what Liam wants: make a guinea pig out of me. Pump me full of that radioactive shit and in five years I’ll have a tail growing out of my face. No thanks.” Drake disregarded the information and moved past the man.

“But, sir .. .they’re giving away bottles of whiskey to the first 100 recipients. Last I heard, they were close to reaching that number. Top of the line stuff too.”

Drake turned on the heel of his work boots, glaring back, before asking skeptically. “Whiskey? They’re giving away alcohol to get this damn shot?” The guard nodded in response.

“Glenfiddich -- 1955, I believe. The King paid for it himself.”

Drake’s eyes widened in disbelief. “That’s a $90,000 bottle! And they’re just giving them away if you get this shot?”

“I … um … yes. His Majesty wants to reward those who are doing their part to create a healthier and safer Cordonia. He won’t rest until every last citizen is vaccinated from this dreaded virus. We can all fight this … together. What do you say, Mr. Walker? Will you help stop the spread?”

“For a $90,000 bottle of whiskey? Hell yeah! I’ll grow two tails out my heads for -- hold on a damn minute …” Drake burrowed his eyes into the guard who was sweating bullets, desperate for him to leave. “Where the hell is Nikolas at? This whole thing reeks of him..” Drake’s eyes began darting around the perimeter in a feverish search for the little prince’s battery operated car. “That little shit is blackmailing you, isn’t he? I should have known.”

The guard straightened and answered in a solemn tone, “I’m a serious professional, Mr. Walker. And I take your accusations of being anything but, demeaning to the loyalty and oath I’ve given to the Crown. How dare you stand there --”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to suggest otherwise.” Drake ran a hand down his weary face in frustration. “It’s just that kid is the bane of my existence. I’ve had a long, hard day at work and I’m in no mood for his fucking stunts.”

The guard waved him off. “Nah, don’t worry about it. I’ve heard all about the stuff he’s pulled on you.” He leaned in closer and spoke in a hushed tone, “Between you and me, he’s a little pain in my ass too; always coming down here acting like he runs this place. If you ever need help teaching that kid a lesson, I’d be happy to help.”

Drake arched a brow. “Loyalty to the crown, huh?” The man regarded that retort with an awkward shrug. “Yeah, he needs his ass busted, that’s for sure. Liam thinks he just needs a little more love. I’d like to show him the Bianca F. Walker way of love.” He slammed his hands together.

The guard chuckled. “I’m with you on that. He needs something done; he’s out of control … Anyway, you should probably head on up there and get your shot -- and whiskey -- before they’re all out. I wish I’d have waited to get mine until today.”

Twisting his face in doubt, Drake walked around the corner and leaned up against the wall as he pulled out his phone. Something just didn’t feel right, and he determined the safest thing to do was shoot off a quick text to his best friend.

Drake: Liam, are you really giving away Glenfiddich, 1955, to get the Covid vaccine?

He waited a brief moment until a response came through; he looked down at his phone and read:

Liam: Yes.

Drake: Is that all you have to say about that?

Liam: Yes.

Liam: I am in meeting for Cordonia.

Drake tilted his head to the side and scratched at it as he stared at the odd message. He typed out another response.

Drake: What kind of meeting for Cordonia? And with who?

Liam: Top secret. Can't tell you.

Drake: Uh-huh. Where’s Nikolas?

Liam: With Riley and baby in Vallteria

Liam: Shit. Valtoria

Drake: What’s the capital of the United States?

Liam: Damn it Drake I’m in a meeting!

Drake: Then hurry up and answer

Liam: Washington D.C.

Drake: Who shot me at the costume ball?

Liam: You son of a bitch. IM IN A MEETING!

Drake let out a heavy groan and decided to just call Riley. He knew without a doubt Nikolas took Liam’s phone again. If he called Riley, though, there was no way the boy could pretend he was her.

Picking up almost instantly, Riley answered cheerfully, “Hello. Queen Riley speaking.”

“Riley, it’s Drake. I was just wondering if you and Liam were really giving away whiskey for getting this shot? Sounds a little fishy to me.”

There was a moment of silence, then a clicking noise, followed by a long beep, before Riley replied. “Yes. We. Are. Giving. Away …. Whiskey. Get.The.Shot.Drake.”

“The hell is wrong with your voice?”

“I.Am.In.Valtoria.”

“Riley, why the fuck are you enunciating every word?”

“I. Have. A. Cold. And. Must.Talk.Slow. Nikolas.Is.With.Me. And. I. Must. Get ... Going. Bye. Drake ...You. Ass. Hole.”

Drake rolled his eyes and slipped the phone in his back pocket. “He’s got her phone, too. Damn that evil-ass kid.” He hesitantly made his way down to room 105; it wouldn’t hurt anything just to open the door and see if there was anything legit about this. As he approached, a lovely lady he knew from the kitchen exited with a big smile on her aging face and a bottle she cradled in her arms; he recognized it almost instantly as the Glenfiddich.

“Miss Milly,” Drake greeting kindly and held the door open for her. “You’re looking as lovely as ever.”

“Oh, you.” She laughed bashfully in her grandmotherly voice as she stepped into the corridor. “You’re always flirting with me, Drake. One of these days, I’m going to make you take me out on a date, buy me dinner, and give me a peck on the cheek at the end of the night.”

Drake smiled back fondly at her. “You just tell me when, Miss Milly, and I’m there.” He motioned to the bottle in her hand. “Say … couldn’t help but notice that bottle of whiskey you’re carrying around; where’d you get that at? That brand doesn’t come cheap.”

“Ohhh, I know. But I heard they were giving shots in that room right there.” She pointed with a crooked finger. “And they said I was the 99th person to stop by, and gave this to me after getting my shot. I couldn’t believe my luck. And they only have one bottle left. I can finally put my grandson through college.”

“That’s great! And you said there is still one more bottle left?”

She nodded her head. “Yes. But you better hurry. One of the chefs is on his way here for a shot as well.”

Drake hurriedly kissed her on the cheek and opened the door. Thank you, Miss Milly!” He stepped inside, then stopped and whipped his head back out the door. “Milly, wait. Have you seen Prince Nikolas today?”

“Yes, he left with the Queen after breakfast this morning. I believe they mentioned going to Valtoria.”

Drake rubbed his hands together anxiously and thanked her. He’d known the cook for years, she’s the sweetest person he knew. There was no way she would cover for Nikolas, and Drake couldn’t imagine the boy would have any dirt to hold over her head.

When the door shut, Nikolas grinned mischievously from a dark alcove where he was parked in his black 12V Mercedes Benz S63. “This is the day I’ve been waiting for.”

He set his laptop and both parents' phones in the passenger seat and slowly pulled out. He paid $100 to Milly and asked her to put the bottle back in his father’s liquor cabinet and rolled a few paces to room 105.

======

After filling out medical forms, the palace doctor ushered Drake behind a curtain where a long rectangular table and folding chair sat. Taking the seat, Drake watched the doctor slip on a pair of gloves and pull a small tube of lube out of his lab coat pocket. Drake furrowed his brows in confusion. “Heh. What’s the lube for?” he chuckled lightly. “I’m just here for a shot, man. Nothing else is going in me.”

“Just relax, Mr. Walker. It’s all part of the process.” A squirt of clear liquid was squeezed onto the doctor's two gloved fingers as he held them up. “On your medical forms you denied having a physical exam in the past year. I just need to do a quick exam and check for rectal polyps.”

Drake started laughing in amusement, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’ve got to be shittin' me. So let me get this straight. I can’t get a shot until you stick your fingers in my ass to check for ‘polyps?’ Yeah, that’s happening. What a bunch of horse malarky.”

The doctor let out an annoyed huff. “I see you didn’t read over the information forms. They never do,’ he mumbled. “Look, if you want me to wait here all day while you figure out what to do, I can’t -- I have a deadline to finish here. Now if you’ll move along, I have another patient waiting; you’re free to go.”

And Drake knew he was. But that expensive bottle of Glenfiddich was calling his name. He glanced over to that one last beautiful bottle sitting atop a desk on the far side of the room, calling his name. Selling it for even half of what it was worth would afford him enough to move the hell out of the palace and get the freedom from Nik he desired. Rubbing a hand over the scruff on his chin, Drake's timid gaze turned from the bottle to the doctor. He could handle a finger or two in ass for a few seconds if t made him $90,000 richer.

“Okay. What do I need to do?”

Nikolas quietly typed on the keyboard of his laptop from the opposite side of the curtain. The images from the hidden cameras plastered on the wall where Drake was seated popped into view on his screen. Feeding a link to, and overriding the broadcast feed at the CBC, Nik crouched down low and waited with little beady eyes for the exam to begin. “Perfect ...Okay, Doc, let’s see if you can get a hole in one.”

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#Little Shit #Drake Walker #Liam x mc #trr #trr fanfiction

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13-reasons-ideas · 3 years

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Once a Serpent? Part 2

The following week, I started school at Liberty. I went to the office for my schedule. There, I was greeted by a very cheerful girl. She had a black bob haircut. She stuck her hand and introduced herself. “Courtney Crimsen.”

“Kennedy Campbell.” I shook her hand awkwardly.

“I’m going to lead your tour.”

“Oh. I gave myself a tour last week?”

“Well, I’ll give you an insider tour.”

“Okay?” I wasn’t sure about her. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but she seemed to be overly nice. I followed her around the school as she pointed out various things. I had passed by most things in the main building the week prior. She pointed out where some of my classes were and then we went outside. She showed me some of the other buildings. My biology class was on the third floor of the science and technology building.

“Thank you for the tour.” I smiled.

“Of course. If you have any questions, I’m around. You’ll see me in the halls. Feel free to ask.”

“I will. Thank you again.” The bell rang. We parted ways and I walked to my locker. It took a couple of tries, but I got it to open on my own. As I was filling it up, I heard someone calling my name. I looked up and turned around. The voice called again. I looked in that direction up the hall and saw Montgomery walking towards me. Yup. Still hot. Even in regular clothes and not sweating. I waved. He stopped when he reached my locker.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” I pulled my algebra textbook

“How’s your first day going?”

“It’s okay. I haven’t had any classes or anything yet. Courtney gave me a tour.”

“That must have been fun. She’s pretty….”

“Cheery?”

“I was going to say uptight.”

“I got that impression, yeah.” I pulled out my schedule. “I should probably get going. Try to find my way to algebra.”

“Okay, I’ll see you around.”

“See you around Montgomery.”

As I was walking away, he called out, “If you want you can sit with me and the guys at lunch.”

“I have bio in room 347. Come find me.”

One nice thing about starting school at the beginning of the school year, was that you didn’t have to do the stupid introductions no one cares about. In algebra, I picked a seat near the back. I did fine in math. This made it easier to blend in. A boy with dirty blonde hair and blue eyes sat down next to me. He was wearing a blue and white varsity jacket. He took out his books and arranged them on his desk. He turned towards me. “Hey, can I borrow a pencil?”

“Sure.” I dug one out of my bag.

“Thanks. I’m Scott.”

“Kennedy.”

“You’re new here?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Not really. If you ignore the way you’re looking around like you aren’t prepared for this at all.” I sighed.

“Says the kid that asked someone for a pencil on the first day of school.”

“Touché.” I laughed.

Class started. We spent some time going over the syllabus for the semester. I circled some dates and points. When the teacher, Mrs. Smith, started teaching, I started to zone out a bit. Nothing too major. But I did miss a couple of operations. I turned to Scott and nodded towards his paper. He turned it towards me. I copied it down quickly. “Something the two of you would like to share with the class Mr. Reed?”

“No Ma’am. Just class notes here.”

“Sorry.” I said quietly.

“Keep up you two.”

“Yes Ma’am.” We said. The rest of class passed without incident.

When biology ended, Monty was standing across the hall. “You found me.”

“I did. Lunch?”

“Sure.” We walked to the cafeteria making small talk. I hated small talk, but it was better than being stared at. I followed him through the crowded room to a table occupied by several large jocks. I was right. I’m going to guess and say football.

“Guys, Kennedy. Kennedy, Guys.”

“Hey.” The boys nodded.

“Hey. Hey Scott.”

“Kennedy. How was bio?”

“It’s the first day, so boring.” I laughed. Scott laughed too. I sat next to him and reached into my lunch bag. I pulled out my carrot sticks.

“She’s in my algebra class.” He said to the table. They were watching us.

“He saved my ass when I wasn’t paying attention. I also apologize if anyone hates the sound of crunching. We only bought groceries for a few days.”

“Ah.”

While we were eating, I started getting warm. I wasn’t used to the heat here. I took off my sweater, not even thinking twice about the fact that I was wearing a tank top. While I picked at my wrap, sorry, I mean ‘rolled sandwich’, I could feel someone watching me. I had grown used to the feeling, especially in the last couple of years. “Yes?”

“What’s your tattoo supposed to be?” Scott asked.

“It’s personal. I got it a couple of years ago.” I could feel him examining it. “I’m probably not going to answer your questions.”

“Did it hurt?”

“Not really. It felt more strange than painful.” Someone else was looking at it too. I turned around. I caught a boy staring at me. He was wearing a worn in black leather jacket. Not wanting to cause problems on my first day, I ignored it.

“No tattoo questions. Can we ask general questions?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Where are you from?” Bryce asked.

“That’s a loaded question.”

“Oh?”

“My dad is a Major in the Army. Which ‘from’ would you like?”

“Lunch isn’t even half over yet.” Montgomery pointed out. It seemed his friends called him Monty. You aren’t his friend.

“Okay, well. I was born on the base in Germany. We lived there until I was three. Then dad got stationed in Denver. Lived there until I was about six. From there, we moved to Chicago. I was about eight when we moved to New York City. We were there until I was about twelve. Then we moved to Riverdale. My dad had requested to move upstate to have a change of pace. He could still commute. And then we moved here like a week or so ago.”

“So where do you consider home?” Charlie asked. He seemed like he was genuinely nice.

“Riverdale. Not just because we were there the longest. I put down roots there. I actually made friends. I dated. Some relationships were less serious than others.” You mean other. “I grew up there. It’s where I became my own person. It’s home.”

“How old are you?”

“Eighteen.”

“Why did you have to move then?”

“I haven’t graduated yet. My parents didn’t want to leave me there alone while I was still going to school.” If I had my way, I wouldn’t be here by now. I could feel someone’s eyes on me again. I looked and caught Monty staring. Maybe here won’t be so bad.

I got a text from Jughead as we were all talking. Hey Kenz. How’s California treating you?

Hot.

You love the heat. :P

I know. It’s the best. :P

Other than that, how’s it going?

It’s going okay. I met some people. My tour guide was… Happy with a capital P.

They made you take a tour?

Yup. And I still got lost looking for my biology class. I chuckled to myself.

“What’s funny?” Bryce asked.

“Nothing.” I put my phone down on the table. That evidently was a bad idea. My phone started buzzing rapidly. I grabbed it quickly and grimaced. “Sorry.” Fangs was texting me. He seemed to be in a great mood for the first day of school.

Kennedy! We have news. Good news. Great news. The best news. Of course, each sentence was a different message.

Oh? What’s happening?

They put soda in the vending machine again. That’s it? That’s the news?

“That’s it?” I asked, out loud.

“What?” A few guys asked.

“Shit. Did I say that out loud?”

“Yes. So now you have to share the reason.” Scott smiled.

“My friend is freaking out because they out soda in the vending machines at my old school.”

“That’s not a bad reason to freak out.” Monty shrugged.

“I don’t need six individual text messages about it.”

“Well. That’s a lot.” I nodded.

After lunch, I had a free period, so I wandered around the school a little more. My tour wasn’t exactly the greatest after all. Once I mapped out a decent route to my classes, I decided to sit outside. It was nice out. It’s California. It’s usually nice out. I couldn’t help myself while I sat. I pulled out my phone and started scrolling through pictures of Sweetpea and I. A lot of them were candid shots one or the other of us had taken. There were some at various gatherings. One of me the first time I put on his old jacket. IT had felt so foreign to me then. Now it felt like something was missing because I didn’t have it.

Approaching footsteps startled me. Instinctively, my hand flew to my front pocket. Then I remembered that my knife wasn’t there. I had left it at home. I didn’t need it here. It was safe. I wasn’t a target anymore. “Hey.” The voice said above me. I already recognized it as Scott.

“Hey.”

“Can I sit?” He motioned to the ground.

“Free country.” I watched him sit on the bench next to me. He left a respectable distance between us.

“How’s your first day going?”

“It’s okay. How’s your first day of senior year?”

“It’s okay. Doesn’t quite feel real yet.”

“It really doesn’t, no.”

“I’m going to apologize for my friends now. They can be a handful sometimes.”

“I know how to work with that. My friends back home were… a handful and half.”

We sat quietly for a few minutes. “Is Miss Smith always so?” I trailed off, unable to find the right word.

“Intense?”

“Yeah.”

“She can be. Usually at exam time. Nothing too out of the ordinary.”

“Good to know.”

“New York, huh?”

“Yeah. I was pretty young when we lived in the city, so I don’t really have a lot of cool stories.”

“But of Riverdale?”

“I have stories.”

“Like?”

“Can’t talk about them with strangers.”

“I don’t have to be a stranger.” I turned to him and raised my brow. “Oh. Oh

no. I didn’t mean. I have a girlfriend.”

“Is that how you asked all your friends to be friends?”

“No.” He didn’t sound very convincing.

“Friends then. I won’t cheat off you in math by the way.”

“That’s probably a good thing. You wouldn’t do great if you did.” We exchanged numbers. “So, since I’m not a stranger anymore, does that mean I can hear some stories?”

“Soon enough.” I smiled. Scott headed off to meet his girlfriend.

I pulled out my phone again and texted Jughead. I made a friend. My thumb hovered over Sweetpea’s text chain. I couldn’t bring myself to delete it or his contact. I had tried several times over the last two weeks. Something inside of me just kept finding reasons not to. My mind trailed off to the other boy who had caught my attention here. There was something about Montgomery that just made me want to know him. I couldn’t put my finger on it.

It didn’t start feeling like school until the second week of classes. Most of the week prior had been a lot of going over course outlines and review of the previous year’s material. Bryce and his friends had taken a liking to me. It was assumed by my third day that I would be a fixture within their group. Scott’s girlfriend, Melissa, was nice. She didn’t seem to see me as a threat. That’s a relief. I would have hated to have my first real friend here, not be able to be friends with me after all.

In the past couple of weeks, I found myself comparing this group of athletes to my friends back home. Bryce seemed to be the closest to Reggie. He-and everyone else for that matter-considered himself the ringleader of this group. Scott was an observer, much like Jughead. It took me a few days, but I realized that Jeff was pretty similar to Archie. People liked him and he was nice. For the sake of being nice. Charlie, now Charlie was quickly becoming a favourite. He was like a human golden retriever. He reminded me so much of Fangs I wanted to cry. Justin reminded me a lot of Toni. The glue in a way. When I thought of Monty-I was considered his friend now, so I could call him that- I only had one other person in mind. Sweetpea. Well, you can’t say I don’t have a type. I hadn’t assigned roles from my hometown to everyone in the group. Zach, for example was hard to pin down.

By mid-September, I started to get comfortable. Not comfortable enough to let my guard down. I had learned my lesson with Sweetpea. I was hanging out with Scott at lunch. We had both decided we could use a break from being surrounded by jocks all the time. “I don’t know Scott.”

“Come on. You said you didn’t share stories with strangers. I’m not a stranger anymore.”

“I know. Let me think.” I stopped to think about what stories I could share. Ones that didn’t involve outing that I dated a gang member. Or that didn’t involve Sweetpea. That didn’t leave a lot of recent stories. Most of my stories from the last two years involved him or the Serpents in one capacity or another.

“Okay I have one. So my friend, we call him Jughead.” Scott looked at me and shook his head, confused. “It’s better than Forsythe Pendleton Jones III.”

“Yes. That is better.”

“Anyway. He was my first real friend when I moved to Riverdale. We must have barely been thirteen at the time. I had spent the night at his place. we decided we wanted to make pancakes in the morning.” I paused and looked up when Monty sat down with us. What was I saying? I noticed a bruise on his cheek that hadn’t been there yesterday. I wonder what that’s from. No Kennedy. Don’t get involved.

��Hey.”

“Hi. Uh,” I paused.

“Did I interrupt?”

“No. Kennedy was just about to tell me a story about Riverdale.”

“Yeah. Uh, what was I saying?”

“Pancakes.”

“Oh yes! We wanted pancakes. We must have used almost every Tupperware dish in his place. It looked like a tornado had torn through the kitchen. His dad walked out, took one look at the kitchen, and shoo’d us out. We were watching tv until he started a fire in the pan.”

“His dad lit breakfast on fire?”

“Yeah. So, he gave up and took us to the diner for breakfast.”

“How did he set the pancakes on fire?” Monty asked.

“Your guess is as good as mine.” I shrugged. Scott didn’t ask for another story.

“What’s Riverdale like?” Monty asked.

“It’s a small town. I feel like it’s pretty standard for a small town.” I didn’t need to mention the Serpents or the Ghoulies or just how separated the North and South sides of town were. “The woods are nice that surround the town.”

“The woods are nice?”

“Yeah. Very… woodsy.”

“Uh huh. Anything else?”

“Pop’s Diner has the best milkshakes I’ve ever had.”

“You haven’t had the milkshakes at Rosie’s yet.” Scott interjected.

“No, I haven’t.”

“They have the best shakes. No argument.”

“I think I’ll be the judge of that, Scott.” I smirked.

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transgamerthoughts · 3 years

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What I Found In The Leaves

Last August, as the lease to my apartment was about to end, the roof began to smolder until the place I lived was full of smoke. When all was settled and done, my apartment had no roof. My room was spared and most of my things were okay—this part of the story being set in late capitalism, I am required to assure you that the things I purchased were okay too—and I decided to leave New York City to return to New England with my family. One of the first things I did when I arrived was look at the sky and imagine I was up there. Falling or sailing or flying. It didn’t really matter. I wanted to touch a cloud, to feel the whipping wind.

I promise… this is leading to something. In the months since, in spite of comfort and proximity to my family… in spite of the arrival of my nephew into this world—a child I would climb a mountain and punch God for if I needed to—and in spite of a happy job… I have spiraled into depression. My solution was work and writing. To throw myself into my job and to, somewhat foolishly, take on the task of novelizing my favorite game: Skies of Arcadia. Because if you’ve read my work long enough, it always comes back to Arcadia. I am proud of that project but it sparked a yearning in me. To truly connect to the world I was writing. It lit a fire. Before we proceed, let me be clear that by depression I don’t mean the woes of pandemic living or some disaffection with the reality of entering my 30s. I mean a deep and painful darkness with all the implications therein. Regardless to say, my efforts to combat it drained me. To the point that I burnt myself out and with some prodding from my boss, took a vacation. Which I am currently on. This is not the first time this series of events has played out. I made a promise to myself when I started vacation: no writing. I am breaking it because I have found, yet again, a moment where I must desperately drain the wonder in my heart and attempt to explain to you that I think there are magical things in the world, and that I believe there is some type of magic in art—in that strange alchemic or shamanistic way—that transfers to us. This will be my second attempt to explain it, and to explain what it has to do with video games. (Forgive the indulgence of this introduction by the way; an editor would surely have cut it all but I need you to understand two things: I am in pain and there's a part of that pain which I think points to something important.) This is a story of ritual and tea. Of how my senses and imagination came together to send me on a journey around a fictional world, in search of heroes who both do and do not exist. As part of my love for Skies of Arcadia, I’ve become something of a paraphernalia collector. I bought an old light novel from ebay, I used my rudimentary Japanese skills to set up a warehouse dropbox so that two fan magazines could be sent there and then subsequently shipped to America, and I have drank tea based off the game. At the time, I wanted to collect the little tins the tea came in; they seemed excellent collector’s items. What I found with my first round of tea was art unto itself; balances of flavor and spice and blends that symbolized characters and connected me to them. These were crafted by a dedicated fan and fellow writer. I don’t have the time to sit and research all the ways in which tea is used in ritual. Because I am tired and older and depressed and writing a blog post that perhaps thirty people will read. Regardless, to my delight I found that the tea-maker had created blends based off the various moons that dot Arcadia’s skies. For those who do not know the game, which I assume is many of you: each nation of the world rests under a magical moon. There are six, with one—a Black Moon—theorized to have gone missing. Here was my opportunity for a journey.

I bought teas based on each moon, and one based on the world itself. I will post a separate collection of all my individual tastings and reviews later. The important thing is this: I had been given an amazing gift. With these teas, I had something of that digital world which was actual. When we play games, we hear them and see them. Perhaps with certain haptics we can feel them. But we do not smell them or taste them or literally consume them. Eight teas, eight chances to smell and taste that wonderful world. To touch the clouds. Quem quaeritis? This is a famous question asked by an angel to the three Marys visiting Christ's tomb: his mother the Virgin Mary, Mary Magdalene, and Mary, who is the sister of Lazarus—the man Christ brought back to life after his death. It means: “whom to do you seek?” I was journeying, one tea cup at a time, around Arcadia. From continent to continent, I tasted their spices and experienced hints of their values, their cultures as expressed through the tea. The question played in my mind: Quem quaeritis? Whom was I seeking? The answer is complicated. First, I was seeking something of myself. The part of me that understood magic and wonder. The part of me that believes in the soul and believes that art, in allowing the complex interaction of creators and characters with players, performs some type of soul-magic. It impresses upon us, real and actual changes. I was seeking that piece of me; that part of me that understood that each cup was a ritual that brought about a communion with a distant world. I was searching for the younger part of me that believed in wonderful things.

I drank the teas in the order our heroes travel the world, and in doing so I was performing a sort of perseveration of their journey. I communed with some place distant and followed in their footsteps. Which answers another half of the question. Whom did I seek? I sought my heroes. I sought the adventurous Vyse and his dogged determinism, I sought the firecracker Aika and her swift rushes to action, and I sought Fina. The woman I wish I could be: feminine, slight, beautiful, kind, brave. Quem quaeritis? All of this sounds like nonsense and when I try to explain the nonsense, I feel a deep embarrassment. To care in the 21th century, particularly in America, is to be weak. To be publicly vulnerable is to make yourself a target. You must be hard and solid as a rock. You cannot believe in magic or else you are doomed. But here I was, chasing myself and my heroes one cup at a time. And I need you to know that it hurt to do that.

I went to the corner store today to buy some energy drinks. When I got back home, my father asked: “did you find what you were looking for?” I told him “That’s a very complicated question.”

Let me explain. Let me do the thing that I feel I cannot do well anymore; let me do some game criticism. In the world of games, the entities we control exist as two things. They are actors; manipulatable bodies, guided by code and controller inputs, that we guide around as we see fit. In this way, players have extraordinary power. In some ways, it is a… fraught power. We can, as Soulja Boy did, leave Braid’s protagonist in a perpetual flux state: jumping and rewinding. Back and forth, forth and back. Eternal puppets for our amusement, avatars for our power fantasies. Sometimes, as in the case of a game like Skyrim, our controllable actors are little more than flesh suits But actors are, more than anything, just… avatars. Video game actors are also characters. Within their worlds, which are fictional, they have motivations and wants and desires and dreams. They want to live and grow and succeed. Cloud Strife wants to defeat Sephiroth and uncover the truth about himself, Joel wants to protect Ellie and survive in a cruel world. Arthur Morgan wants to find a calmer life and redemption for his sins. They are, as characters, people. But since they are also actors, we can deny them their hopes and dreams whenever we want. We can have Cloud while away his days gambling at the Gold Saucer and, if we want, we can force Arthur Morgan to murder to population of an entire town. The core truth of a player's relationship to the character is this: we decide if their dreams are fulfilled. I find that troubling and I will try to explain why. But first let’s be clear: I do not think the character in games are sentient entities. I outlined this relationship of players and characters in a GDC talk a few years ago, using highly rhetorical terms and my reward was the ridicule of countless gamers who questioned my sanity. Some made videos about my presentation. It was hell. To be a woman, perhaps especially a progressively minded trans-woman, in games is to know a very real hell. To this day, I cannot go a week without some type of horrid experience on the internet. Some judgment of my worth, some assumption about my competency, or in the worst cases some proclamation about my right to live. No doubt this is part of why I needed my vacation. But here is why I find the player/character/actor relationship troubling. It is not merely the abstract notion, the thought experiment that elicits fun but meaningless philosophical natter. The reason I find that relationship troubling or at least complicated is because for all of their fiction, the characters in games can give us real things. They can, through some type of power—a deep power found in the act of story-telling itself—impart aspects of themselves on us. For instance, they can teach us lessons which we then carry into the rest of our lives. My father, for reasons I can’t recall, once told me: “the meaning of life is to serve others.” Though he does not know it, that truism has been etched into my soul. It is a “thing” that my father has given me. But my father is not the only person who has etched something into my soul. Vyse, that dashing pirate, has etched many things into my soul. For instance: “impossible is just a word people use to make themselves feel better when they quit.” That is etched on my soul too. Just as much as anything my father has taught. So we come to the heart of it: what does it mean that Vyse can so alter my being and values, and that he can do it with the same strength and “realness” of my father? What does it mean for a character, who is also often an actor that I guide, to give me such a powerful gift? Because let us be clear: values are “real” things. When I tried to explain that I believe that certain things are actually true, for instance that looking at landscapes does mean that we are looking at something real…. I spent an afternoon with former Jeopardy! contestant Arthur Chu and a cohort of Twitteristas attacking my philosophical surety. So, again, fuck the internet… I digress.. Let’s explore: I believe in the realness of things because of the depth of the emotions those things make me feel, and I refuse to believe that life is just endorphins, hormones, and instinct. That music or games or anything else can make us weep for joy is proof-positive to me of the existence of a soul; of an ineffable thing that is “us.” Not necessarily all enduring but certainly extant. And if this thing exists, it can be acted upon. I know this because my father, with his truism, changed my soul. Changed the core of me. I know this because Vyse and the others did so as well.

I’ve written that games criticism is a kindness; that it seeks the good in art and attacks the banal explicitly because art is beautiful. I write today to suggest this: art is magical. It alters us, not metaphorically, but in the ways it can affect our souls. Which brings us back to character and actors. I control Vyse since he is an actor and I am a player; but he is a character with dreams and hopes and personality. And values. Wonderful values which he shared with me. So what does it mean now that I can send actors to their doom? What does it mean that I can control them utterly when I know for a fact that they can affect and change me? I do not have clean answers for this. Perhaps there are none. Perhaps all I have written is silliness, even as I beg you to please understand. Please.

Understand the power of stories, understand it in the way that Tolkein did when he said: “Creative fantasy, because it is mainly trying to do something else … may open your hoard and let all the locked things fly away like cage-birds.” Understand that I am telling you that the locked thing is your heart and soul, and that just as a lover or parent or mentor can open that thing… so can the people we meet in our fictional journeys. Vyse is not just the captain of a ship. He is my captain. That means something. Art is ritual and play is ritual. In creation, we place something of ourselves in another thing. In play, we allow ourselves to be transmuted and changed. This is magic, of a sort. I am left wanting however. I followed the path of my heroes in as literal a way as I could, pulling on new senses to understand the world they live in and touch their skies for a fleeting moment. But I cannot reach them; I am Tantalus in the mire. Ever reaching, ever chasing. For that moment I can be the person that my heroes trusted me to become. Note by musical note, word for written word, tea cup by tea cup, I am chasing my captain. When I went back to my apartment the day after the fire, I looked up at the spot where the roof used to be. All I could see was blue sky and I thought I might fall into it. Perhaps in superficial ways I have shared something with my heroes; I have tasted something they have, even though the tea is not actually from Arcadia. It was merely a conduit to my imagination, to the transformed parts of my souls. Yet, I did not find him and I could not find myself. Which is why it hurts, in spite of how wonderful it was. Quem quaeritis? He is not here. So I will keep sailing after him.

#skies of arcadia #games criticism #tea #dreams

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the-irish-mayhem · 4 years

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Toph and Aang need Fire Lady Katara to advise on a bloodbending case in Republic City. Or: The Yakone vs. Katara bloodbending battle that we were owed.

This was originally going to go up for @zutaramonth Day 11: Secret, but it also works a bit for today’s prompt, which is Sacrifice.

Read on AO3.

The Scarlet Tree

128 AG Year of the Rat Republic City

“It’s a beautiful theory, Aang, but we’re not going to be able to convince people of any of it,” Toph says, voice soft, cognizant of the two children sleeping down the hall. “Yakone’s been weaseling out of charges for years. We can’t do this again unless it’s airtight.”

Their kitchen is dimly lit by a lamp in the center of the table, and a Republic City Police file is spread out across the surface. Aang is seated on one end, fingers idly toying with a witness statement taken a few months prior, while his wife paces like a caged animal at the opposite end.

“We already have ten willing witnesses,” Aang replies, matching her quiet tone, “and I’m willing to bet we can find more. A lot more.”

“Look, I hear you, I do, but I can also hear what his defense attorney is going to say--bloodbending is extremely rare, and Yakone has airtight alibis during full moons,” Toph says.

“Just because it’s never been done before doesn’t mean it isn’t possible,” Aang says. “You of all people should know that.”

Toph’s expression twists, and she stops pacing. For all her tense mannerisms, she looks surprisingly calm, if in a sour mood. The soft slope of her nose and the defiance in her jaw are highlighted by the dim firelight, and he wishes he could tell her that she’s beautiful, but he suspects that wouldn’t get him very far this evening. (Not that that particular compliment gets him very far often, but what kind of husband would he be if he never said it at all?)

“It seems unfair that something so awful might have no limits,” she finally says.

Aang sighs. He certainly doesn’t disagree. “It takes a prodigal waterbender to be able to do it in the first place. It’s not like we’ve met an abundance of benders with the ability.”

“Speaking of prodigal waterbenders, maybe we ask Katara about it,” she asks. She rests her fists on the table, knuckles pressed to the papers. “She probably has a better idea on how to handle this than we do.”

“Do I hear… a trip to visit the Fire Nation?” Aang asks with a growing look of delight on his face.

Toph smiles at the suggestion. “It’s been a while since we paid Sugar Queen and Sparky a visit. I’m sure Tenzin and Lin would love to see their cousins.”

Aang replies, “I can arrange for an airship. Next week sound okay to you?”

“Why not take Appa for old times’ sake?”

“If you’d like to be stuck on an air bison with an eight and a nine year old all the way to the Fire Nation…”

Toph pales. “Yeah, an airship is probably a better option; although, you might be able to convince Tenzin to meditate all the way there.”

A beat of silence passes, and though she can’t see him, Aang is grinning like an idiot at her.

“What?” she asks.

“The domineering Toph Beifong, so easily convinced to take time off? Who are you and what have you done with my wife?”

She smirks right back. “We’re doing this so we can finally arrest Yakone, not take leisurely strolls on beaches.”

“Oh, I think I can convince you to take at least one stroll.”

“Keep me out of the sand, and I might consider it, Twinkletoes.”

Aang groans. “Is there going to be a certain anniversary we hit when I can finally get rid of that nickname?”

“You always ask, and my answer is always the same.”

He shakes his head, fondness tightening his chest. “Here, I’ll clean this up,” he says, scraping the files into a pile. She’d brought them home for his benefit, after all. “You’ve had a long day. Head up to bed, and I’ll see you there.”

Toph chuckles. “ I’m the master here.” She doesn’t give any other protest, kisses his cheek, and plods down the hallway to their bedroom.

Aang finishes up in the kitchen, and quickly checks on Tenzin and Lin, both sleeping soundly, and heads to bed himself.

***

It’s just past midday, and the sun is high in the sky on a cloudless, hot day in the Fire Nation. The capital city is abuzz with life--benders and non-benders alike seek out merchants and street vendors, construction crews break in shaded areas and guzzle water brought in by ostrich horse-drawn carts, tea shop owners hawk their custom blends across busy streets, school children are released for the day, and the city itself seems alive, pulsing and breathing like any one of its citizens.

In the Caldera, Fire Lady Katara looks out over the city from a balcony of the palace. Even after nearly 25 years of living here, she still doesn’t care for how the mouth of the ancient volcano holds them separate from the outlying city districts. Despite the expansion of the city and various programs she and Zuko had created targeting class stratification, it still feels far too guarded. Considering that the Caldera is mostly just residences of those able to afford the outrageous prices (a group that, historically, has not been Katara’s biggest fan), it doesn’t really hold the same place in Katara’s heart that the city at large does.

“What are you thinking about?”

Katara looks over her shoulder to find her husband approaching. He looks every inch an intimidating Fire Lord, what with the spiked epaulettes on the elaborate robes and the traditional headpiece tucked into his topknot, but the dorky grin he’s got on is purely Zuko and purely for her.

It makes her grin back, and she looks back out over the city as he comes to stand next to her.

“I’m trying to judge how much the Council would hate me if I suggested demolishing the volcano.”

He hums thoughtfully. “Well, significantly more than when you wanted to build the first publicly funded school, but probably less than when you suggested decriminalizing prostitution.”

“What I’m hearing are a bunch of fights that I did win, so…”

“How about this: we wait until the day before we abdicate, then do it, and let Izumi deal with the fallout.”

Katara laughs. “She’s a peacekeeper at heart, so there might be some merit there.” She leans into his side and he puts an arm around her in response. “Are the kids done with their lessons?” she asks.

“Yes, they just finished. They’re excited to see Tenzin and Lin. Or,” he amends, “Kya is excited to see them. I can’t really tell if Kyokani remembers them, or if he’s just feeding off of Kya’s excitement. And Iroh is exactly how I was at sixteen.”

Katara rolls her eyes. “Evil and angsty?”

“I did not think anyone could out-angst me, but our son has done it.”

Katara scoffs. “I’m not so sure about that.”

Zuko smiles wistfully. “I wish Suki and Sokka could be here too. It feels like it’s been so long since we’ve properly gotten everyone together.”

“Spirits, it must have been at least a Council or two ago.” She sighs deeply. “Remember when we were hiding out on Ember Island when we were kids? It was only a few days before Sozin’s Comet, but we were…” She sighs again. “I don’t ever want to go to war again, but sometimes I really, really miss those days. Us, all together.”

“Me too,” he agrees. “It was so much simpler in a lot of ways, too. Teach Aang bending. Beat the Fire Lord. Win the war.”

Katara hums in agreement. “Before we had to worry about things like securing funding for social welfare programs and economic development variables and social statistics surveys.”

“Hey, I didn’t have much of a choice, but you voluntarily signed up for all of that when you married me.”

She grins. “I suppose so. It was a good deal, if you ask me,” she says before leaning over to kiss his cheek. He turns his head so he catches her lips with his. 21 years of marriage and four children later, their kisses don’t always render her weak in the knees like they used to. Rather, it’s bracing, reassuring, a small reminder in a day of distractions that they are not alone.

She pulls back with a sigh and stares out across the Caldera once more.

Their conversation trails into light political discussion, as many of their conversations are wont to do during their working hours. The funding for the hospital on Hing Wa Island that would complete a ten year project to bring publicly-funded medical care to every island had finally ground its way through the political process. The completion of the Hing Wa Hospital would kick off the next phase of Katara’s plan to expand the existing hospital system in the Earth Kingdom, and hopefully her careful planning in coordination with the Northern and Southern Water Tribes would mean that there would be at least one healer in most of the major regions. (“Oh!” she exclaims, “It will coincide perfectly with the end of her semester, so Izumi might be able to join me.”)

There is also, of course, the United Republic of Nations, which is an ever-growing and changing responsibility for them. Zuko and Katara are the only ones currently not living there of the original Team Avatar, so their involvement hasn’t been as hands-on in the last few years. It’s not strange for Aang and Toph to want them to advise on something, but it is slightly out-of-the-ordinary for them to not share what that something is in a letter.

They don’t have to wonder about it for very long.

“Your Majesties,” one of their messengers says, and they turn to face him. “Apologies for disturbing you.”

“It’s no worry, Xi,” Zuko says. “What is it?”

“Avatar Aang and Chief Beifong have arrived from Republic City.”

***

On a balcony overlooking one of the courtyards where their children play together (and the young Iroh sits grumpily off to the side), the old friends catch up over steaming cups of tea.

(Tenzin’s airbending is progressing quickly, and Lin still can’t metal bend.)

(Izumi likes studying in Ba Sing Se, Iroh strives for new levels of teen angst every day, Kya healed her first papercut last week, and Kyokani hasn’t bent anything just yet.)

Katara had asked eagerly after her brother and his wife and kids.

(Sokka is tackling the challenges of being on Republic City’s Council like he does everything in life--cleverly and without reservation. Suki’s expansion of the Kyoshi Warriors past their ancestral borders has been hitting a few snags. Luna and Ukira have recently begun their training to become Kyoshi Warriors, like their mother before them.)

But alas, the subject at hand raises its nasty head much sooner than they would’ve liked.

“Yakone,” Zuko growls when Toph and Aang share their reason for visiting. “That perpetual thorn in our sides is still alive?”

“Unfortunately,” Toph replies.

“So what’s he done this time?” Katara asks. “Please tell me it’s something you guys can actually convict him on.”

Aang winces. “That’s… where things get complicated.”

“Complicated how?” Zuko asks.

Aang scratches the back of his neck. “Well…”

Toph swings into it with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer, “We think Yakone is a bloodbender.”

They can hear the shouts of their children below in the courtyard, the sounds of joy discordant with the tone their conversation has veered into.

“Well, shit,” Katara says.

Zuko looks over at her with widened eyes. “Usually you’re the diplomatic one.”

“Well, I can’t really think of a diplomatic way to react to that revelation.”

Toph says, “How’s this for shit: based on what witnesses have said, it looks like he can bloodbend without a full moon.”

Zuko and Katara share a loaded look.

Aang blinks. “You… don’t seem surprised.” He glances between the two. “We came to ask you if you thought it could be possible. We have witnesses, but--”

“It’s possible,” Katara interrupts, calm and sure.

A heavy beat passes before Aang asks, “Have you-- Katara, have you done it?”

She lets out a long breath before she explains, “Until now, Hama was the only other bloodbender we’d ever met, and she told us that a full moon was necessary for the technique. And…” Katara sighs softly. “And for Hama, the full moon was necessary, but my bending is stronger than hers was. The full moon certainly makes it easier, but it’s not required.”

“Katara--”

“Don’t start with me, Aang.” Under the table, Zuko takes her hand. “When I first did it, I swore I would never do it again. It felt… wrong and barbaric, and that was never something I had ever associated with my bending.

“But I realized years ago that by cutting myself off from the possibilities--”

“What possibilities?” Aang asks, heated. “We outlawed it for a reason. You fought for it as much as anyone else!”

Katara lets out an exasperated breath. “Have you forgotten already, my pupil?” she says with a wry edge. “Waterbending isn’t all about fighting.”

“Healing,” Toph surmises. “You used it for healing.”

“Yes,” Katara answers. “One of the biggest drawbacks of healing with water is that deeper, more serious injuries are often harder and take longer to fix. But if we can heal someone using their blood, then healing those injuries will be faster and much less taxing. And perhaps someday it won’t be just injuries we can fix. Illness, maiming, wounds that could’ve been crippling or fatal…”

Aang sighs. “You can save more people,” he concludes.

“Yes,” she replies.

He does have the good sense to look sheepish. “Sorry for assuming the worst. Sifu Katara,” he adds with a little mock bow, just to make her smile.

It works, but it’s tempered. “Look, I get your reluctance,” Katara says. “Really, I do. When we made it illegal, it was meant to be a bottle stopper on a technique that can easily be abused, but if what you’re saying about Yakone is true, then the bottle is leaking.”

“So how do we stop it?” Aang asks.

“Well, a good start would be putting Yakone in prison once and for all,” Katara says.

Zuko says, “He’s managed to weasel his way out of all the charges that have been brought against him. Trying to convince people that he can bloodbend without a full moon won’t be easy. What evidence do you have so far?”

“Witnesses,” Toph answers. “Lots of them.”

Katara says, “You’ll have a tough time getting enough credible witnesses who tell a consistent story to convince people that something thought to be impossible is possible.”

Aang says, “We’ve already got a dozen ready and willing to share what they saw.”

“That won’t be enough,” Zuko says.

“We’re working on that,” Toph says, “and we have leads for at least ten--”

“What if I testified?” Katara asks suddenly.

“No,” Zuko says. “Katara, you can’t be serious.”

“I am serious,” she says. “I’m a bloodbender who can do the technique you’re trying to convince people is possible. That would mean the burden of proof is moved away from proving it’s possible to proving that Yakone can do and has done it.”

Toph nods along with her words, and says in response, “That’s actually a really good idea. If we can get the Council to focus on the testimony rather than the bending…”

“And get the Fire Lady,” Aang says, “one of the most powerful politicians in the world, to admit on record that she also can do and has done something that illegal?”

Zuko looks over at Katara as if to say See?

She sighs. “I can’t just turn my back on Republic City because we’ve been keeping my bloodbending a secret. It sounds like we have a chance, a real chance, to finally put Yakone away, and if I don’t do everything I can to ensure that that happens, then how can I look myself in the mirror and say I’m trying to make the world a better place?”

“Think about the political implications,” Zuko says, and gets a strange look on his face. “I can’t believe I’m the one saying that to you right now but seriously. Agni knows how many enemies we have, and this would be the exact sort of thing to give them more wind in their sails. Plus, with all the fearmongering that went on about bloodbending after the war, testifying that you can do it whenever you want? People are going to fear you,” he shakes his head, expression sad.

“Give the people some credit,” Toph says. “Katara is probably the most popular public figure in the world behind Aang. People freaking love her. What kind of evil bloodbending witch builds hospitals for poor people?”

A silence draws over the table. An impasse.

In true Avatar fashion, Aang breaks the silence by saying, “I propose a compromise.” He smiles ruefully. “I think with the case we’re building, the evidence and the witnesses Toph has found, I think it will be enough.” He turns to Toph, “You trust the people enough to not turn on Katara, but not enough to rely on the witnesses to help convict Yakone? Look,” he continues, looking between all of them, “I think this time we will have enough to convict him. My worry is that when the time comes and he is convicted, he will not take that lying down.”

Katara nods slowly. “If he is as talented a bender as you say, and based on what we know about him, I doubt he goes quietly.”

“Exactly,” Aang says. “We need someone who could go up against him.” He looks meaningfully at Katara. “Instead of testifying, you provide backup in case we lose control. If that happens, I will take his bending away.”

Zuko says, “I still don’t like the idea of Katara exposing herself like that. But,” he tacks on at his wife’s look, “it’s not the worst plan.”

“It leaves a lot up to chance,” Katara says, but it is not a disagreement.

Aang replies, “So does any plan. This is the one with the least risk and highest reward.”

Katara contemplates silently for a few moments, a finger stroking her chin. “I think this could work, and taking his bending seems like the safest way to handle him. Toph,” she says, “what do you think?”

Toph groans and slouches back in her seat, tipping her head back and saying her next words to the sky, “I think we’re going to have to find the best prosecutor in Republic City, because this is going to be a fight.”

***

“We have dozens of witnesses, Yakone. We know what you are.”

Yakone growls as metal cuffs are bent onto his wrists, “I’ve beaten every trumped up charge you yahoos have brought against me, and I’ll beat this one too.”

“Get him out of here,” Toph says, and he allows himself to be escorted out of the restaurant by two officers, and the doors slam shut behind him. This leaves her and Aang standing next to each other, the silence that has descended just shy of eerie.

Aang’s face is grim. “Now comes the hard part.”

***

Several weeks later, the case of Republic City versus Yakone of the Southern Water Tribe is heard by the sitting United Republic Council.

Katara dresses down for the occasion, leaving behind her Fire Lady regalia and headpiece in favor of a short-sleeved, fur-trimmed amauti belted across her waist, sealskin boots, and a long, indigo blue skirt slit up the sides to just above her knee to allow full range of movement. She looks no different than any other Water Tribe woman and blends in with the onlookers who have come to witness the open door spectacle that is Yakone’s (hopefully last) trial.

In trying to remain anonymous, Aang and Toph agreed to not interact with her; Sokka doesn’t even know she’s here. It hurts to keep a secret from him, but with his duty to remain impartial, it’s better to keep him in the dark.

(Initially, Zuko had wanted to send security with her, but she rolled her eyes. “Zuko, I am the security.” She had eventually relented in the face of her husband’s genuine concern and agreed to take two Kyoshi-trained bodyguards with her, both of whom are also anonymously dressed and seated far enough from her to maintain their cover.)

(It is much harder for her husband to remain anonymous in this city, so he agrees to watch the children and wait for them at Aang and Toph’s home on Air Temple Island.)

(She can’t wait to tell Sokka that the Fire Lord is babysitting.)

Katara prays the two flasks of water she has attached to her belt prove unnecessary. Hopefully, any bending will be unnecessary. She hasn’t used bloodbending as a weapon in many years, and she isn’t keen to break her streak.

As she settles into a seat in the middle of the rows of tables and chairs in the main room of City Hall, Katara lets her eyes make a sweep of the room. The architecture is decidedly modern, but takes many cues from all four nations. The sweeping, high ceilings remind her of many grand rooms in the Fire Palace. The solid marble pillars and stone pilasters are uniquely Earth Kingdom. The open room looking up to the many different floors of the building invoke the Air Temples. The graceful arches, including the embellished one behind the Council’s dais, are very clearly inspired by the Northern Water Tribe.

(Katara wishes she could see something distinctively inspired by the South Pole, but their architectural heritage had been all but lost. Despite years having passed since the end of the war, its scars linger in the most unexpected ways.)

The Council files into the hall, and the constant murmur of the gathered crowd dies out and the councilmembers take their seats. Sokka, keeping with his duties as chairman, begins the proceedings. He lists the date and location for the benefit of the stenographer, going through the various things that need to be recorded for posterity. Katara can feel the tension ratcheting up in the room as Sokka details the rules of the courtroom and warns that disruptive individuals will be escorted out.

“With that settled, please bring out the accused.”

Yakone has aged since Katara had last seen him. Unsurprising, since that must’ve been ten or so years past that she was face to face with him. He looks entirely too confident for a man on trial. It rankles something in her that he thinks he can just spit in the face of the laws they put in place to secure peace, that people can let the wounds of war fester and sow the very same discord that caused their wounds in the first place.

Once Yakone is seated, Sokka asks counsel to present their opening arguments.

The prosecutor representing Republic City stands and begins, “Yakone has ruled Republic City’s criminal empire for years, yet he has always managed to stay out of the law’s reach… Until now. You will hear testimony from dozens of his victims, and they will tell you Yakone has maintained his grip on the underworld by using an ability that has been illegal for decades. Bloodbending.” She continues to lay out the case for the Council, and Katara must admit, she spins a compelling narrative. As she summarizes the case Toph and Aang have built against him, Katara glances around the room. Most of the faces she sees are nodding, and a few murmured words of agreement reach her ears. At the very least it would seem the public is on their side, but that doesn’t mean conviction is a given.

Sokka had told her that the representatives from the Earth Kingdom and the Northern Water Tribe have been the holdouts on convicting Yakone, citing the heavily circumstantial evidence. (“It’s not like they’re exactly wrong,” Sokka had said, “but come on . When even circumstantial evidence piles up like that, something is fishy.”) A conviction was anything but guaranteed. And if they manage to secure a guilty verdict, then there’s the matter of if Yakone will go quietly.

After the prosecutor wraps up her speech, she is seated, and Yakone’s defense attorney stands and delivers his own argument.

“The prosecution’s entire case is built upon the make believe notion that my client is able to bloodbend at will, at any time on any day. I remind the council that bloodbending is an incredibly rare skill and it can only be performed during a full moon,” he says, and Katara shifts in her seat. Perhaps it had been a mistake for her to conceal her abilities. At least then the public would be able to hear the witness testimony with the full truth already known.

He continues, “Yet, the witnesses will claim that my client used bloodbending at every other time except during a full moon. It would be a mockery of justice to convict a man of a crime that is impossible to commit.” For several more minutes, the attorney continues in this vein, impugning the witnesses’ character and motives and maintaining that Yakone is a victim of partisan politics and a smear campaign. It’s difficult for Katara to listen to without wanting to break something.

When Yakone’s attorney concludes, Sokka asks for witnesses, and the trial itself truly begins.

***

It’s a grueling trial. In total, it ends up lasting something like twenty-two hours with dozens of witnesses testifying to what they saw. Person after person, from a variety of backgrounds and nations. Shopkeepers and artisans, stay-at-home mothers and military veterans, jailhouse informants and former gang members, and all say the same thing: Yakone is a bloodbender, and he doesn’t need the full moon to do it.

Katara has to hand it to Aang and Toph--they did not take any shortcuts on their investigation. The testimony had been thorough, brutal, and consistent. Somewhere around the seventh witness, the defense attorney’s arguments became progressively more repetitive and less believable. In short, it had been utterly damning.

“Councilman Sokka will now deliver the verdict.”

Her brother stands, looking out across the gathered crowd. “In my years, I have encountered people born with rare and unique bending abilities. I once bested a man with my trusty boomerang who was able to firebend with his mind.” That makes Katara crack a grin. Of course he’d find a way to bring up his boomerang. At least he skipped over the name he’d given to said firebender.

Sooka continues, “Why, even metalbending was considered impossible for all of history until our esteemed chief of police Toph Beifong single-handedly developed the skill. The overwhelming amount of testimony and evidence has convinced this council that Yakone is one of these unique benders, and he exploited his ability to commit these heinous crimes. We find Yakone guilty of all charges and sentence him to life in prison.”

A gavel bang officially adjourns the court, and they have done it. Yakone is going away for good.

This is what they were hoping for, and also the situation they were dreading. Katara tenses in her seat, shifting forward with her eyes locked on Yakone.

Initially, he is still. His attorney wads a sheet of paper and throws it across the room with a huff. Two metalbenders come to take him away.

Then Yakone stands. She cannot see his hands, but Katara can feel the exact moment he starts to bend.

She was only fourteen last time someone bent her blood, nearly thirty years ago now but the sensation slides over her like a familiar, unwelcome caress. Her muscles seize, her veins throb, and for a handful of fearful seconds, Katara is afraid that she isn’t strong enough to beat him.

He’s bloodbending an entire room full of people, the Council, the crowd, Toph, and even Aang.

Aang appears to be fighting against the control, his hand shaking with exertion as he reaches out towards Yakone.

As a groaning Toph is forced to undo his shackles, Aang grits out, “Yakone, you won’t get away with this.”

Yakone forcefully drops his arms, and Katara can feel it in the rush of her blood--he’s going to knock everyone out. As everyone in the room drops, Katara breathes and controls her fear. She stops the rush of her blood away from her head. She feels the hush and whisper of the water moving in her flasks, and when she pushes herself, she can feel the same movement in everyone around her, the push and pull of blood through their veins like the push and pull of the sea.

As much as Hama was dangerous, she was also right. Water is everywhere. Katara is surrounded by it, and when she is surrounded by her element, she cannot lose.

Yakone laughs and turns toward Aang, still frozen, and lifts him into the air. “Republic City is mine, Avatar. I’ll be back one day to claim it.”

The mobster makes a move to throw Aang into the stairs at the foot of the Council’s table, but finds himself quite suddenly stopped.

“Over my dead body,” Katara calls out, and steps out into the aisle between the tables, hands before her in bloodbending form. She can feel his blood flowing through his body, the shape of the circulatory system like a scarlet tree running through him, and it is hers to control.

Aang drops like a sack of flour, and Katara winces as he hits the floor.

“That could be arranged, Fire Lady,” Yakone growls, and Katara gasps and he wrenches himself from her control and the full force of his bloodbending hits her like a runaway wagon.

He is powerful. Far more powerful than Hama. The fear of being weaker than him slams into her again as he lifts her off the floor. The breath is forced from her lungs as her head is jerked backwards. She grits her teeth together, trying to wrest control of her body back, but he’s fighting her.

“You’re strong,” Yakone says, a touch of strain in his deep voice, “but not strong enough.”

She feels as though she is about to explode, but he is not stronger than her. “Funny,” she wheezes, “I was about to say the same to you! ” On her last word, she finally breaks her arms free of his control and hurls Yakone into a pillar. His back collides with the surface, and his head snaps backwards and cracks against the marble.

Katara drops, grunting when she hits the floor, but she finds her feet again fast. She’s gasping with exertion, but she cannot let her guard down now. She will not lose.

Unfortunately, the hit against the pillar wasn’t as severe as it sounded, as Yakone is already standing again.

“You little brat,” he says, and before she can stop him, he picks her up and returns the favor, sending her flying backwards, all the way to the doors of City Hall. They shatter under the force of her body, and shards of wood slice through her skin and clothing. She maintains the presence of mind to bend the water out of her flasks and create a wall of ice that she slides up against before she can go tumbling down the stairs.

She staggers to her feet, her head pounding from the impact and her joints reminding her that she is not as young as she once was.

Yakone follows her out, pace measured and slow--perhaps her throw had done more damage than he let on. Katara takes quick stock of herself--the cuts from her unpleasant trip through the door are superficial, and her head’s throbbing is quieting. Nothing is broken, though her ankle might be slightly twisted. Nothing that will make her unable to fight.

She prays that Aang won’t be down for long, and bends like her life depends on it.

She’s never been in a bloodbending fight like this. It’s always been the case where she was clearly stronger, like with Hama, or her opponent was not a waterbender, like when she and Zuko went after the Southern Raiders. But this is her seizing control of Yakone and trying to force him to his knees, and then him wresting back control and trying to dislocate her shoulders. Her joints and tendons creak, her heart heaves in confusion in her chest, and a pained groan forces its way out of her throat.

This is Katara managing to break free just before the joints pop out of place and throwing Yakone down the stairs to give herself a moment of respite. Sweat beads on her forehead as she bends the water she’d brought with her over Yakone, freezing him in place.

Her bonds don’t last long as he melts the water and sends it back in her direction. He bends it into a dozen daggers, razor sharp and coming at her fast. Taking control of her blood, Yakone holds her directly in their path.

With a pained shout, Katara manages to take control of her body back in time to dodge out of the way, tucking and rolling. She comes up onto one knee and reaches out to take hold of Yakone’s blood once more.

This back and forth is exhausting, the unnatural movements forced onto her body make her feel bruised and raw, and doing this technique under the sun is no small task.

She tries to do what Yakone did earlier, tries to force his blood away from his head and make him pass out like he’d done to the whole courtroom, but he manages to hold her off. She can see the strain on his face and is gratified that she’s not the only one struggling.

She grits her teeth, pushing at his blood harder.

With a tortured shout, Yakone takes his own blood back. Katara stumbles, and he presses his advantage. She finds herself pushed down onto the ground, first her knees, then her hands, Yakone pressing down against her back. If she cedes her ability to move, if he manages to get her face down on the ground, she won’t be able to bend. She will lose.

Kicking one of her knees up so she rests on just the one, Katara looses her arms from Yakone’s control. In a move that was adapted from firebending, she punches out with her arms quickly, one aimed for the blood in his chest and the other towards his knees.

The first lands hard, she can feel the blood shimmering under the impact as the breath is driven from his lungs and he loses his grip on Katara. The second is a lighter hit--less blood in the joints, but it is effective in breaking his root and knocking him off balance. Katara pushes forward, taking on the traditional bloodbending form as she forces him down to his knees.

“Katara!”

Thank the Spirits . Aang shoots out of City Hall faster than an eel hound, riding a ball of compressed air.

Her hands shake as she attempts to keep her hold fast.

“Aang, now!” she shouts.

The years haven’t dulled their ability to work together, and Aang understands exactly what she wants from him. The ball of air dissolves beneath him as he adopts an earthbending stance. With a jab upwards, he bends a tight funnel of rock up and around Yakone, immobilizing him.

Katara stumbles backwards as she finally releases Yakone’s blood and a wave of exhaustion goes over her. She braces her hands on her knees as she watches Aang approach Yakone.

“I’m taking away your bending for good,” Aang says. Between one heartbeat and the next, Aang enters the Avatar State. His eyes and tattoos take on a familiar glow. His hands go to Yakone’s head and chest, and a few seconds later, it is over. Yakone slumps down as much as the rock prison allows.

“Katara!” Aang calls out again, rushing to her side. “Are you all right?”

She grunts as she puts a little bit of weight on the bad ankle. Definitely a sprain, but not severe. She bends the water across City Hall’s steps back into the flask, but saves a little over her hands and sets about healing the bleeding cuts across her body. Zuko would probably have an aneurysm if she came back bleeding. As it is, he’ll probably have at least a minor meltdown looking at the tattered and bloody state of her clothing. “I’m okay.” She looks past him at Yakone, whose eyes are closed as if asleep. “He’s down?”

Aang nods. “He’ll never bend again.”

Katara nods and bends the water on her hands back into her flasks. “Good, because I’d just like to go on record as saying I never want to do that again.”

Aang steps forward and hugs her tightly. He really can give some of the best hugs--he’s always solid and warm, his robes are soft and smell faintly of incense, and his height and long limbs mean she always feels surrounded by his affection and sincerity. There’s a part of her that misses when he was younger, when he was the kid that she was responsible for, the kid she needed to protect and take care of. But this? This is it’s own kind of better.

“I’m sorry you had to do it at all,” Aang says softly.

“Necessary sacrifices. It’s what needed to be done,” Katara says. She lingers in his embrace for a few more seconds before she pulls away.

“And you’re sure you’re okay?”

“I will be. I think I just need some rest.” She chuckles breathlessly. “I feel like I just ran a marathon.”

“Here, I’ll call Appa for you so you can get back to Air Temple Island--”

“No,” she interrupts gently. “I want to see this through.”

And as much as collapsing on a bed right now sounds appealing, it is not too much of a task to see Yakone off to prison and ensure that everyone who was a victim of his bending in the courtroom is unharmed.

Toph lets off some creative expletives when Katara revives her, and Aang hugs her desperately before she can go off on a rampage. Toph softens, and the pair kiss before they pull away from each other. Toph punches Katara in the arm in both greeting and gratitude.

Sokka comes back to in a similar fashion, and is livid in turn about Katara having to fight Yakone by herself and also about missing an “epic bloodbending battle.” She can sense that he’s a little hurt she never told him about her full bloodbending abilities, but he keeps it to himself for now. She owes him a full explanation later, when it’s just the two of them. She’s always hated keeping secrets from him.

(There’s also a part of her that knows he’s going to censure her for pushing to illegalize something and then continuing to do it behind everyone’s backs. And perhaps he’ll be right to be mad, but that’s just going to have to be a bridge she’ll cross when she gets to it. If there’s one thing she hates more than keeping secrets from Sokka, it’s him being disappointed in her.)

Aang eventually does call for Appa once the chaos of the day has settled and Toph puts her second-in-command in control of the rest of the cleanup, and the bison takes them all to Air Temple Island. Despite the ride only taking ten minutes, Katara nearly falls asleep on Sokka’s shoulder.

When they arrive, Suki is already there with a worried Zuko standing next to her.

“We heard what happened,” Suki says in explanation, and Zuko rushes over to Appa and helps Sokka get Katara out of the saddle. She feels a little pathetic that she can barely stand on her own and has to have her brother and husband practically lift her down, but mostly she’s grateful.

Zuko’s hug is tighter than Aang’s was, and she can feel the minuscule shakes going through him. A ball of tension lingering in her chest finally eases as she clutches him back. “It’s been so long since we’ve had to fight anyone,” he whispers. “I forgot how scary it is to send you off on your own.”

“I know,” she replies, stroking a hand through his hair. It’s completely unbound, a rarity he only indulges in when in the most intimate of settings, and it allows fingers to run through it without interruption. “But I’m alright. My whole body feels like a giant bruise and I want to go to bed in the middle of the afternoon, but I’m alright.”

His arms tighten around her again, and he kisses her hair.

All too soon, or perhaps not soon enough, reality comes rushing back in the form of their children.

“Mom!”

She’d expected Kyokani or Kya, their exuberance at seeing their mother still untempered, but to her surprise and delight, it’s Iroh who calls out to her. He runs up to her and hugs her with a similar degree of desperation as his father had, and Katara has to hold back tears.

It’s not that Iroh isn’t a loving, wonderful son (in spite of the brooding angst that had bloomed not long after he’d turned sixteen), but he’s going through a phase where hugging his mom is not exactly on the top of the list of things he wants to do. But Spirits, if he isn’t hugging her now like he had when he was six years old and was frightened by the Dragon Catacombs when he’d stumbled upon them while alone.

She supposes it makes sense--they hadn’t told their youngest children much beyond the fact that Mom needed to help Uncle Aang and Aunt Toph take down a bad guy. However, Iroh knows exactly who Yakone is and exactly how much danger his mother was just in. (Katara imagines she’ll be getting an earful from Izumi about her safety next time she sees her. Her firstborn is a lot like her father in that way.)

She’s hears a high pitched, “Mama!” and looks over Iroh’s shoulder to find little Kyokani with Kya hot on his heels racing to greet her. Katara can’t bring herself to let go of her oldest son just yet, and with a grin brings him down to his knees with her so that she can have all her kids in her arms at once. Iroh, surprisingly, doesn’t complain. “Did you and Uncle Aang and Aunt Toph get the bad guy?” Kyo asks.

“Yeah,” Katara chuckles. “We got him.”

“Was there a big fight?” asks Kya, and their little group hug begins to disperse as it’s clear Kya and Kyokani want the story of how they got the bad guy.

Katara laughs. “Yes, there was a big fight.”

“Whoa,” Kya says with wide eyes. “And you beat him?”

“Well,” Katara says with a small shrug, “Uncle Aang helped a little bit.”

Aang gives Appa a parting pat and turns with his hands on his hips. “Hey, I did more than a little bit!”

“He came in at the end,” Katara stage whispers. When she moves to stand again, she loses her balance a bit. “Oof.” She’s steadied by Iroh’s hand on her back.

“Mom, are you alright?” Iroh asks.

“Just tired,” she tells him, and pats his cheek. “Thank you.”

“Mom you gotta tell us about the big fight!” Kya asks, tugging at her mother’s skirt.

“Hey, I can tell you about it!” Aang says, and then he crouches down. “Also, I want a hug too!”

“Me three!” says Sokka, and the youngest of the Fire Nation clan scatters to hug their favorite uncles.

Katara elbows Iroh, who is still standing next to her with a look of worry on his face. “Go say hi to your uncles and aunts. Aunt Toph also probably wants a hug, even if she’s not going to ask for one.”

Iroh nods and does as he’s told. (And yes, Aunt Toph absolutely did want a hug. Katara can almost hear Iroh’s bones crack under her grip from where she stands.)

Then Zuko comes to her side and takes her hand. He says, “They’re going to distract them for a while so that you can go get some rest.”

Suki, who’d been waiting to join the fray of hugs, says, “There’s a guest room set up for you just off the main hall. Zuko knows where it is.” She looks back at the Temple and then back at Katara, “You might want to go before Luna and Ukira get wind that you’re here. I trust Tenzin and Lin to be a little more restrained, but--”

“Wait,” Katara says, “they’re all here? I shouldn’t be sleeping while everyone is here.” She wishes even more fervently that Izumi was home. Then her family would truly be complete.

“Hey,” Zuko says softly, squeezing her hand, “everyone will still be here when you wake up.”

It takes a bit more cajoling to get Katara to the guest room, but once she lies down, Zuko sitting next to the bed and promising to stay until she falls asleep, it’s almost no time at all before she drifts off.

After all, she’d always slept best surrounded by the people she loves.

#zutara month #zutara #zutara fic #atla #my fic #tbh this was an excuse to write OP katara and by god i fucking took it #with a fast denouement because that's what i'm all about babeyy

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four-loose-screws · 3 years

Text

FE8 Novelization Translation - Chapter 2, Section 1

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I call this a “section” because it is not a separate part of the chapter in the book, but divided from the rest of the chapter by a scene break.

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Chapter 2 - The Blood of a Warrior

Eirika and her allies defeated the few Grado soldiers left inside Mulan Castle in the blink of an eye.

The Eastern Watch, having regained their full strength, easily took out the enemy soldiers, and Mulan Castle returned to its previous peace and quiet.

Eirika sheathed her sword, then rushed down the stairs that led to the basement.

Long ago, it was a jail for serious criminals, but during the era of peace that had continued until now, it was used solely for storage.

As she peered around the boxes and barrels towering over her, Eirika called out, "Tana! Tana, where are you?"

"Eirika? Eirika, is that you!?" The voice that replied to Eirika from down the hallway was surprisingly energetic.

She gasped and rushed towards the source of the voice.

Leftover from the basement’s time as a jail were several small rooms on either side of a hallway, each closed off with sturdy iron bars. Tana was in the furthest back of all the rooms.

Eirika was too impatient to look for the key, so she shattered the front of the lock with the handle of her sword.

The moment the iron door opened, Tana was unable to wait any longer. All of the energy she had built up within her burst out at once, and she rushed towards Eirika and hugged her tight. "Eirika! I can’t believe it! You came to save me!"

"You must have had a hard time, Tana. But you'll be okay now. We've taken back Mulan Castle."

"I was worried about you, and came here… yet I was the one who got caught. That was really uncool of me." Her shoulders slumped a bit. But despite the terrifying experience she’d surely just had, her expression was not serious in the slightest.

Her optimistic personality was incredibly infectious, and made Eirika grin as well.

Tana looked at Eirika with her big indigo blue eyes. "Did you come here by yourself?"

"No, Seth protected me. And so did a young knight named Franz!"

"What about Ephraim? Is he safe?"

"Brother is fighting on the front line. However, I haven't heard anything from him yet."

"Oh… but I'm sure he's fine! He's really strong!"

Eirika’s expression darkened once more.

Tana added, voice clear and decisive to cheer Eirika up, "Anyway, let's go to the capital first. There may be some new information from Father. You should rest up at the palace as well," and squeezed her hand.

"Thank you, Tana."

"So, Eirika, would you like to ride on my Achaeus? If you aren't scared, that is."

"Achaeus?"

"My pegasus! Oh, that's right, I didn't tell you yet! I'm a pegasus knight now!" Tana’s chest puffed up with pride.

Eirika was surprised, though when she thought about it, she remembered that Tana had loved animals ever since they were children, and had a strong admiration for pegasi in particular. She remembered Tana excitedly saying, "I want to be a pegasus knight someday," but never imagined she was serious.

King Hayden doted on his beloved daughter. He'd probably turned pale at the idea of Tana riding a pegasus and flying the skies, and been completely against it. Eirika imagined what his face looked like as Tana insisted she have her way, and it made her smile.

"I wonder if I'd be able to. It would be my first time on a pegasus, so…"

"I'd be with you, so it'd be fine! Achaeus is really smart, and always in perfect sync with his rider! It's even easier than riding a normal horse!"

Tana quickly ran up the stairs.

Eirika followed after her as each step brought back memories of when they would run around and play on them as children.

Achaeus was in the castle's front garden, resting his wings and eating grass.

When the Grado Army attacked, he seemed to have immediately run away and hid. Then, when peace was returned to the Castle, he came back. Eirika was surprised by how intelligent he was, but the look on Tana's face said 'of course he did!' and she petted his back.

"He's so pretty, isn't he!? He's the prettiest of all the unit’s pegasi!"

Tana's pride was like that of a child secretly showing off their treasure. Achaeus neighed happily, which once again surprised Eirika.

"No way! He understands human speech…?"

"Not necessarily, I think. Pegasi just seem to understand our hearts based on our expressions and behavior. Their bonds with their owners are particularly strong. Shall we go on a short flight? Just once around the top of the castle."

Tana quickly mounted Achaeus, then extended a hand towards Eirika, who gingerly got on behind her.

"Lady Erika!"

They looked in the direction that the loud voice came from.

When Seth emerged from the castle, his expression immediately changed, and he ran over to her.

Eirika had planned to go on her test flight in secret, but he seemed to have sensed her intentions.

With a stern look on his face, Seth waved his arms and circled around in front of Achaeus. "What are you doing?"

"I was thinking that I could ride Tana's pegasus…"

"You cannot. It is too dangerous."

"She'll be fine! I'll be with her!" Tana said, but Seth would not be swayed.

"If you happened to fall, it would be very bad.”

"She won't fall or anything like that! General Seth, you let her ride a horse to get here, didn't you? It's the same thing!"

"Horses and pegasi are different."

"Only because one has wings and the other doesn't! It'll be fine! We won't fly that high up."

Tana ignored Seth's attempts to stop them, and kicked her pegasus' side.

Achaeus spread his wings and began to run. He picked up speed in the blink of an eye, causing his body to gently achieve lift off.

"Eeek…!" Eirika squeaked.

"Lady Eirika!" Seth yelled, but Tana wouldn't listen. Achaeus flapped his white wings and circled around in the sky.

The wind was strong, blowing Eirika's long hair around. She clung tightly to Tana and gingerly looked down.

The ground looked very far away. She wondered if the teeny-tiny silhouette looking up at her was Seth. Before she knew it, Achaeus gained more speed, and flew up even higher than the top of the castle.

She felt dizzy. Tana quickly realized it and shouted “Hold on tight!”

Eirika regained her senses and put more strength into her arms, which were wrapped around Tana’s waist.

"The view is amazing, isn't it!? When you look down from up high like this, the green of the trees and grass seems so vivid! The higher we go, the more amazing it would feel, but since General Seth is worried, this much is good for now."

Tana said excitedly, but Eirika didn't feel the same way at all. She was clinging to Tana as hard as she could, and had nothing to spare on enjoying the scenery.

Tana realized how Eirika felt, and her expression changed.

"Your shoulders will get stiff if you put so much strength into them, Eirika. You don't have to be nervous. There's hardly any turbulence, and we aren't going that fast."

"O-Okay…" Her voice was so shaky that she sounded a bit pitiful.

Tana’s giggling echoed through the air as she pulled the reins. Achaeus traveled in a huge circle, then descended and landed in the same spot he’d taken off. Just like when he’d taken off, Eirika hardly felt the impact at all.

Tana lent Eirika a hand as she got down off of Achaeus. She was unsteady, as if she was still in the air, and her feet felt like they might give out.

Worry still clouded Seth’s face, but he smiled stiffly. "How was it, Lady Eirika?"

"It… it was nice." The ride had made her feel free of her inhibitions, so she couldn’t complain too much.

Tana poked fun of the stiff smile through which she spoke by asking, "So, Eirika. Would you like to ride on Achaeus all the way to the capital? It's much faster than going on foot."

"Th-Thank you, but… I'll pass. I've decided to let Seth take me on his horse."

"I see. That's too bad, air travel is really amazing! We'll deploy as soon as you are ready."

Tana seemed eager to ride around on Achaeus again.

Seth nodded, then went to go tell Franz and Gilliam, who were resting in the castle.

If one was to show off a pegasus’ true abilities, then the pegasus wouldn’t be hindered by any mountain or river before them, and could leisurely fly over any obstacle in their path. However, Tana didn’t dare get too far ahead, and instead stayed low and matched everyone else’s pace as they made their way towards the capital.

Still, she seemed to get bored from time to time, and would break away from the group to fly around. Then, she would slowly circle Achaeus around before descending and rejoining everyone.

Upon seeing this sight, Franz would always whisper "That must be so cool…!" in amazement.

Their trip was a peaceful, easy one, so much so that it made them feel like the tragedy in Renais was just a dream.

However, this peace did not ease the pain in Eirika's heart. She couldn't stop thinking for even a second about her father, staying behind in Renais; or Ephraim, fighting on the front line.

The day after they departed Mulan Castle, as she and Seth rocked with each step of his horse, Eirika finally broke the ice on a question she'd been wanting to ask. "I have a request."

Achaeus was flying around in the sky at that moment. She'd whispered her words while looking up at him, so Seth seemed wary of them. Already anticipating what she would say, he warned her, "Please do not ride the pegasus again."

Eirika found his worried face strange, and it made her smile.

"I won’t. I've already had enough of that scary thought, so I don't want to learn that. I want you to teach me regular horseback riding."

"Horseback riding?"

"I don't seem to be the kind of person who can like riding pegasi, but if it's just horseback riding on the ground, then if I practice, I think maybe I can learn. But I don't want to only learn how to ride. I also want to be able to freely control my horse while fighting on the battlefield."

"Why something like that?"

"The way Tana handled her pegasus’ reigns was something to behold, and made me want to try riding. And I'm sorry for always making you carry me on your horse."

"No, that's not what I was asking…" His voice became quiet with worry. "Once we arrive in the capital, I don't want you to ever have to go out to battle again. Please leave the fighting to us knights, as well as the Frelian Army."

"No, Seth. I want to keep fighting. I can't rest until I meet my father and brother again."

Seth seemed to sense just how strong her determination was, as he did not object any further.

"Understood. If that's the reason why, then I'll gladly teach you. Horses are very smart, and many say that they can read the personality of their rider. I think you have the potential to be a great horseback rider."

"Thank you, Seth."

'Even if I can't become as good as Seth with practice, would I at least be able to ride around with ease like Franz does? Would we still be fighting then?'

Eirika was filled with complicated feelings as she gazed down the road leading to the capital.

#fire emblem #fe #fe8 #sacred stones #nintendo #game boy advance #gba #japan #japanese #translation #novel #light novel #fe8 novelization translation

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catsnuggler · 3 years

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What didn't help my whole subconsciously-missionary-minded, silent-echoes-of-Mormonism socialism illusion, which made me think it would be selfish and wrong to demand my own liberation, was the misapplication of standpoint epistemology - put simply, when "identity politics" goes bad.

Putting the rest under a cut, because this is a long post.

While it's crude and ultimately incorrect to only say, for example, "Listen to Black voices", without emphasizing the critical thinking skills and empathy necessary to listen to Cornel West, and dismiss Candace Owens for the right-wing corporate hack that she is, what is for certain is that someone like me, a 100% white American settler of Mormon pioneer stock (on one side of my family, anyway), and with no formal education on the subject matter, doesn't have authority to speak on the experience of Black people in America. I have no argument against that, because it's true.

Continuing further, just because, in spite of the fact neither racism nor colonialism oppresses me, capitalism still does, this doesn't mean I have as much authority to speak on it as a Black member of the working class does, as anti-Black racism and capitalism compound on and depend on each other, making the lives of Black working class people more difficult than the lives of white working class people. Doesn't mean I can't speak on capitalism, just means I'm not the leading voice.

That being said - I'm going to talk as if I'm still a believing Mormon, let alone Christian, in this and the next paragraph, to better explain the subconscious workings of my mind, due to their brainwashing - the difference in our positions can be wrongly perceived, especially by someone raised in the illusory colonial missionary mindset, similar to the position of those with "the gospel" and those "of the world", where those with "the truth" have more, but are, like all, oppressed by "sin", yet at least believe themselves to have the knowledge and wherewithal to resist, while those "worldly" people aren't blessed with the wealth of God's Word, nor the solidarity of the church, and are thus further deprived of the perfection God desires for his children than those of His Flock already are, and must be ministered to, brought into the Fold, and Saved from On High.

Yet there must ever be a humility to such actions, there must ever be self-denial, for all are imperfect, even those in the church, as, just as Christ shed His blood, and allowed His flesh to be pierced, even to His death, in limitless sacrifice for the sins of all of the Children of Men, that they may be redeemed, so have countless socialist, communist, and anarchist revolutionaries died for the cause, and yet all who live, who do not seclude themselves from the world and its markets, facilitate the continued exploitation and robbery of each other by the capitalist class. All are imperfect, and all would deserve bondage and bloodshed, were it not for the bleeding hearts of the martyrs.

So, you see, even someone who consciously attempts to reject Christianity can still fall victim to its logic, even after abandoning the official doctrine of it, if proper safeguards against the general thought processes of it are not taken. Returning to the original point I've tried to raise, I've fallen for a long time to a Christian-esque stance of personal martyrdom for the sake of "saving others" to the point I believed pursuing my own liberation would be selfish.

I'm mentally ill and neurodivergent to the point that getting myself to even get into the habit of seeking jobs is difficult, much more so landing myself an interview; and getting an offer of employment? Only happened once, at the end of my first interview. As you predicted, the job sucked, they were desperate to hire me because it sucks, and it wasn't 3 months before I quit. I quit in late September of 2018. It's been almost 3 years of me not having a job.

I got my driver's license in mid 2019, but got into a minor parking accident that only broke a headlight on the car I drove, and didn't damage the other car, in September of that year. It was over a year before I drove again, because of the depth of my depression and anxiety over one accident, which cost about $150. Since January of this year, I've driven somewhat regularly, and have some measure of confidence, but am still anxious every time I'm behind the wheel. I could drive to and from a job, if needed, but it would be a while before that would be comfortable.

I still live with my dad, at the age of 23, and barely have any friends where I live anymore; those local friends I still have, I haven't seen face-to-face for a long time. My dad... my dad could die any day, and I would be royally fucked. Something happened earlier this month, and he wasn't healthy before, but this was really serious. He amazingly got away with few symptoms, and can make a full recovery with the right effort, except... it could still happen again, it would just be less likely. If it does, he could die. Again, I would be royally fucked. I don't know how much his treatment cost, but I know it must be a pretty penny. There's only so long I can continue like this.

Due to my dependence and general impotent state, I can't do a goddamn thing for what I believe in right now. I have to fight self-hatred with the argument that if I die, I'll have died useless and unhelpful, when I could potentially have kept living til I got my act together and finally done something helpful before passing.

I have a college degree. Not a "real" degree, in the sense of it mattering, but I have an Associate degree, DTA. No major; I never could figure out what I wanted to do. It would have been a close call between anything in political science, which would have led toward a government job, which would be unacceptable as an anarchist, or perhaps a professorial job, teaching would-be politicians and bureaucrats, hardly educating anyone of revolutionary intent; or something in chemistry, perhaps biochemistry, leading to some kind of colonial agrichem shit, or making expensive medicines nobody would be able to afford for private entities' profits, possibly having research appropriated by Uncle Sam for weapons purposes - I don't know, but none of that was appealing. I graduated community college with Honors, as a member of the Phi Theta Kappa Honor Society. I could have had promise as some or other kind of technocrat or bureaucrat - but I wouldn't be able to live with myself. It seems the less one is exploited, the more they exploit others. I don't know what job I can take that would exploit me enough that I wouldn't hurt others so much, while leaving me alone enough that I wouldn't kill myself, which... which has been a temptation, at times. Not too strong, but it is fucking there. I have promise; at short-term memorization and obedience, at least, like a mongrel dog who can read; but no conviction, no confidence, and a surplus of fear.

There are more woes I can recollect, I can continue this pity party in a book, but enough of that. Suffice it to say, all this time, I should have wanted my own liberation. Colonized people (in an American context, Turtle Island Indigenous and Black) have it worse, LGBT* people have it worse, women have it worse, physically disabled people have it worse, people with greater mental disabilities than my own have it worse, and I can't lead any of their struggles. But I do have the right to demand my own liberation, and I shouldn't convince myself otherwise.

*I don't oppose the use of the other word, except people of my demographic have abused that word so goddamn much, I don't want to type it, myself, let alone say it. It's always tainted when it comes from those who aren't of that community. Please don't think I'm either a radfem or a libfem just because I didn't use that word. I support people identifying with that label in using it.

This post became increasingly personal toward the end. However, I hope my flawed perspective, perhaps unique (read: unrelatable) in some aspects, perhaps explaining, at least in part, some of the fucked-up mental hurdles of white socialist "allies" that we need to get our asses over yesterday, might help - whatever I might have illuminated, and whatever I surely missed. I can understand why someone might want to share and add, share and criticize, or leave this alone with a like, nothing at all, or an unfollow.

Not that I can prevent this from being shared in any way, except by not posting in the first place, but I'm okay with it being shared by other socialists, for whatever it's worth... although I understand the more traction it gets, the more likely I'll get anon hate about being full of myself (deserved, to an extent at least), for being some dumb socialist cuck (not exactly wrong, but rude, and likely from a Nazi, so fuck you), or perhaps from non-Mormon Christians accusing me, someone they'd call a Mormon (which is arguably almost a new ethnicity (not race though) as much as it is a religion) of daring to throw the Christian god and Christianity, in general, under the bus, accusing me of being in league with the devil. So be it.

If you're not a reactionary, nor a liberal, nor somewhere in-between, and you want to share this for some reason or another, you may do so.

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thebookkeeperslibrary · 3 years

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Lost Time: Ch. 7

Fandom: Time Warp Trio

Author: The_Bookkeeper_96

Rating: T

Summary: Another summer at Horae Manor begins, but before Joe and Tessa get the chance to train, they are sent out on a mission to explore the magic capital of the universe, Mancika. Rumors of illegal magic conversion spread throughout the city, and Joe and Tessa need to locate those responsible. But after the events of last summer, Joe isn't eager to work with his Aether partner, and the two are struggling more with each other than with their enemies.

A/N: Sorry for the delay. A lot of big life-changes have been happening for me lately. Anyway, enjoy! And as always, please let me know what you think by leaving a review!

Read on AO3

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"I simply cannot save the world on an empty stomach." - Dawne Lisle, Thirteenth Warp Wizard

When I wake up the next morning, I'm no longer physically exhausted. But I still feel drained, like my soul is exhausted. My magic definitely hasn't returned yet.

It's easy enough to get out of bed and get dressed for the day. I throw on a pair of jeans and a hoodie, hoping that this will be acceptable enough for whatever Cassius and Rowena have in store for me and Tessa today. But just what did they have planned? They didn't give us any details last night. Hopefully, they’ll reveal a bit more at breakfast.

I mentally check the time. Even in a world between worlds, I can still pinpoint the exact time, seven forty-eight. Breakfast would be starting soon, so I make my way to the dining hall.

Surprisingly, and unfortunately, I'm not the first one there. Tessa sits at her usual spot, twirling her sabre, a far-off look in her eyes. She doesn't even notice me until I take my seat directly across from her.

"Oh!" She fumbles with her sword, quickly flipping it closed and putting it away. "S-sorry, I didn't hear you come in."

I sit back in my chair and say nothing. Something's off with her this morning, but why? I don't think I've ever heard her stutter before. Where is her normally cool and confident self? Did last night in the gym really throw her off that much?

Her eyes search mine. I don't know what she's hoping to find, but I do my best to not give her anything. "Did you, uh, sleep well last night?"

"Like a rock."

She nods and looks down. "That's good."

I take a closer look at her face. Dark circles hang under her eyes. Had she not been able to sleep last night? I shake my head and turn away. Whatever, it's not like I care about her sleeping habits. One restless night wouldn't kill her. And besides, it was probably some form of karma anyway.

I keep studying her face. She did seem genuinely upset last night. Devastated actually. Her reaction had been a little over the top given the situation. Is there something else bothering her? Besides the whole 'save the entire space-time continuum' thing. But I mean, that's practically nothing.

I press my lips together. We couldn't keep going like this. We were stuck together and who knows what Cas and Ro are planning for us today.

It's not easy, but I manage to say, "Listen, I don't blame you for what happened last night. You heard Cas. It was my fault."

She waves me off and rests her head on her hand. "No, it's fine. It's not the first time. I always mess things up."

Before I can ask her what she means by that, Sam hurries into the room. He crashes into the chair next to me, nearly pushing me out of mine. "Joe! Thank goodness you're here. I need to talk to you. Last night, in the library…" he stops, panting heavily.

Tessa and I both lean forward. "What?" we ask together.

"There- I saw- we saw," he continues to huff, "a ghost!"

"A ghost?" I ask. I can’t help the doubt that creeps into my voice. Okay, so Sam's not adjusting well…

"Who's we?" Tessa adds. Any traces of her earlier self-doubt or depression are gone. Her usual mask of over-confidence and sassy attitude reappears.

"Juniper and I." Sam rearranged himself to properly sit in his chair. "And yes a ghost." He glares pointedly at me.

"Are you sure?" I ask, at the same time Tessa says, "What did it look like?"

I raise an eyebrow at her. She didn't really believe him, right? But she ignored me, her full focus on Sam and his story.

He nods eagerly and starts talking a mile a minute, "Yes, ask Juniper. She was with me. She was reading these weird books and promised to teach me about magic. Oh! Speaking of weird books-"

"Wait, wait, wait." Tessa cuts him off. She places her hands on the table in front of her. "Did you say June was reading? But she-"

"Doesn't like books, I know." Sam finishes her sentence.

Between the two of them, I don't know if any sentence will be finished. We're definitely not going to get the whole story this way. Part of me wondered if we should even be talking about this right now. Wouldn't it be better to wait for everyone else to arrive? At the very least, Cas and Ro should hear this.

"Okay, Sam," I offer, "let's assume you did see a ghost. Why don't you take a second to breathe and calm down? Then, when everyone else gets here, you can tell us what happened."

He frowns at me, knowing I don't believe him. To be fair, it wasn't like Sam to just make up some wild story like this. Fred, sure, but not him. We had seen some crazy stuff over the years. I guess seeing a ghost inside a magic school isn't too out of the ordinary for us.

"That's not a bad idea. I have a few questions for June anyway." Tessa sits back in her chair and folds her arms across her chest.

I smile to myself. Maybe there's hope for our little motley group yet.

Of course, that thought gets ruined as soon as I think it.

"For the last time, no." Arwen growls and stomps into the room.

Fred trails in behind her, whining, "Oh, come on, why not?"

"Because I said no. I really can't simplify that any more." She plants herself in the chair next to Tessa with a huff.

"Please? Aren’t we friends now? Why can’t I-"

"Shut up!" Arwen stabs her knife into the table. It vibrates in place, barely an inch away from Fred's fingers.

I jump back, staring wide-eyed at the knife. Just how bad did Fred piss her off? It's only eight in the morning. Sure, Fred can be annoying, but that is excessive.

Fred recoils. "I just thought we really bonded last night."

"Sounds like you two had a lot of fun," Tessa says with a smirk. "I'd love to hear more about this bonding experience."

Arwen glares at her. "You can shut up too."

She rolls her eyes in response and offers Fred a pitiful smile. "Don't take it personally. Ari’s not a morning person, and she really struggles with anger management."

Juniper giggles as she enters the dining hall and joins us at the table. "I'll say. Remember that time she lost it on those kids in the park because they hit her with one of their water balloons?"

"That was completely justifiable."

"They were, like, eight."

Arwen groans and buries her head in her hands. "Okay, everyone can officially shut up. It's too early for this."

"Too early for what?" Our final two members finally walk into the room and take their seats at the head of the table. "I hope you're not ready to go back to bed. You kids have a big day ahead of you."

We all perk up at that. "We do?"

Cas nods. "Oh yes, but first, we must eat." He waves his hand. Green mist hovers over the table and vanishes just as quickly, leaving behind a full breakfast buffet.

Easily distracted by the food, I load my plate with a stack of pancakes and begin drowning them in syrup.

I distantly hear Sam cough next to me, and judging by the pointed look he's giving me, it's not the first time he's done it. He looks from me to Juniper, to Cas and Ro. I almost wish I didn't understand his hint.

Setting down my fork, I sigh. Why does he have to be so dramatic? "Can't we eat first? I'm starving."

"Not surprising considering the surge of magic you let out last night," Cas says, eyeing me closely. "We should look you over before we leave today."

I wave him off, hoping my exhaustion doesn't show too much. "I feel fine. Really."

Cas and Ro both give me a look letting me know they don't believe me for one second. Well, it was worth a shot. I don't want to have to go to the infirmary. I was hoping to avoid it this summer. My nose twinges at the memory of last year's injury.

"Anyway," I say, eager to change the subject. I point to Sam. "Sam claims he saw a ghost last night."

I can't help but notice Juniper tense up. Her hair is covering her face, so I can't read her expression. Sam had said she'd been there last night too. But she’s acting much too casual for someone who saw a ghost the night before.

Sam nods so hard, his glasses almost fall off. "It- he looked sort of like an old monk. He didn't feel nice."

Fred snorts. "He didn't feel nice?"

Sam throws his hands in the air. "I don't know how else to describe it. It felt like he wanted to hurt us. And he sort of did. Somehow, he pressurized the whole room. I thought my eyes were going to pop out of my head." He stares at all of us. No one looks entertained by his story, let alone like we believe him. He rubs his hand down his face and glares at Juniper. "A little help here?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Juniper says, joining the conversation for the first time. She pushes her hair out of her face. "It must have been some trick of the light combined with all that old dust in the library."

"The library?" Cas hums, stroking his chin. "Did this ghost have a really thick beard? And was it wearing heavy robes?"

"Yes!" Sam slams his hands down, practically jumping on the table.

Cas lets out a light laugh. "Oh, that's just old Flamel. He's harmless. In fact, he helped me find my way out of the library when I got lost in there as a kid. Good to know he's still floating around.

Sam's mouth drops open. "Good to know? You knew there were ghosts here and you didn't say anything?"

Rowena shrugs. "We really never had the time or need to tell you."

"Oh, that reminds me." Cas clasps his hands together. "There's a flock of pixies in one of the old classrooms. So, please don't enter any locked rooms. Those things are a pain to catch."

"It took us three weeks to find them all last time," Ro adds, as if this is a perfectly normal conversation to be having.

I blink, a thousand questions running through my mind. Mainly, what are pixies? But also, how often did they get out? Is that something Tessa and I would be doing every month? A heavy sigh escapes my lungs, and I stare at the ceiling. No, Tessa and I have much bigger things on our plate. The universe isn't going to save itself.

"I think we figured out mythic creatures were real last summer when we met the Drake," I point out to everyone. In hindsight, ghosts and pixies, whatever those are, don't seem so strange. Our lives were like a fairy tale, better to swallow that large pill now and move on. "Speaking of summer adventures, you mentioned we had a big day ahead of us?" I turn the conversation to my mentors, hoping they'll give us more information. And that they'll talk enough so I can finish my breakfast in peace. I shove some toast in my mouth before they even have a chance to deflect the conversation back to me.

Rowena frowns at my poor table manners. "Yes, well, today Cassius and I have to go to Mancika. An emergency council meeting has been called, and we can't miss it."

"I thought you two were in charge of the council." Tessa leans across the table to have a better view. "Can't you just reschedule?"

"That's the thing with emergency meetings, they tend to be time sensitive. So, no." Cas replies.

Rowena continues, "While we're gone, we can't simply leave you all to your own devices. So you'll be coming with us."

I nearly choke on my toast. Mancika? As in, the capital of the magic world? I'd seen in it pictures in some of the books Cas gave me to read last year. I probably should have done more than stare at the pictures, but it looked really cool. However, being there, sitting in on a meeting all day didn’t sound very fun. Even if it was for a magic council.

Like she's reading my thoughts, Tessa asks, "You're bringing us to Mancika so we can watch a council session?"

Rowena snorts. "Hardly. Even if you're potential future Great Wizards, council sessions are private, with very few exceptions. We have something else in mind for you."

"Going head to head with magical criminals?"

"Spying on your enemies?"

"Infiltrate an evil dark magic syndicate?"

"What? No," Rowena groans as Cassius chuckles at our responses. She elbows him in the side. "Don't encourage them." He merely rolls his eyes in response.

Their back and forth is kind of a shock. It's the first time I've seen them actually act like siblings. I didn't realize it when I first met them, but in hindsight, I was blind. The two are obviously twins. Other than their eyes, they’re identical. I wonder how that affects their work. I know I couldn't be stuck with Anna like that forever. We'd kill each other. I take a quick glimpse at Tessa out of the corner of my eye. Then again, we aren't exactly off to a great start either. I almost wish my sister was here instead, but she can't do magic.

With a sigh, Rowena explains what we're actually doing today. "We just need you to do some research for us."

A collective groan rises from everyone. They were sending us to the biggest magical city and making us do research? It seems almost cruel to send us there and then just stick us in a library all day. This is definitely busy work to keep us occupied while they get to do the important stuff.

"Now, hold on. We haven't told you what you'll be researching. I promise it's important, and it actually relates to our council meeting today. So it will be useful and valuable information." Cas's hands begin to glow and a cloud of green smoke appears above the table. Slowly a vision starts forming, becoming clearer and clearer until it reveals a news reporter standing in front of a museum. "No doubt you have heard about the recent artifact robberies occurring at several museums and private collections across the world."

Everyone nods. This had been all over the news recently, but it started over a year ago. It’s nothing new.

Tessa and I lock eyes across the table, and I'm sure we’re thinking the same thing. Are they about to tell everyone about the time decay and our role in it? I'm not sure I want that. And why would they pull us out yesterday to tell us about the doomsday countdown clock in private if they were just going to tell everyone about it today? Did they really think a day was long enough for us to adjust to that kind of news?

I chew on my bottom lip and let Cas continue. Tessa taps her fingers on the table, clearly just as anxious as me.

"We need you to sneak around Mancika and see what information you can find as to why this is happening." The vision he'd created changes to an eagle-eye view of a city, presumably Mancika.

The city is laid out in a circle, with clear roads (or are those walls?) that divide it into nine parts. The center of Mancika is an isolated smaller circle housing a few very large buildings. I didn't need to read anything about the place to understand that's the most important part, and no doubt where Cas and Ro are going for their meeting.

"So we are going on a secret mission!" Fred practically jumps up and down in his seat.

"Of a sort. If thinking that way helps you focus on the task at hand, then fine,” Ro says with a sigh. “Welcome to your first official secret mission debriefing."

We all sit up a little straighter at that. Saying it that way made this much more exciting.

Cas clears his throat in a very dramatic sort of way, making his sister roll her eyes. “Your mission, if you choose to accept it, is to discover any and all information pertaining to the disappearance of these artifacts and the corruption of the time periods they come from.

“For some reason, certain periods of time have become unstable and thus parts of history are vanishing. This may be due to natural causes in the space-time continuum, but we have reason to believe that someone or a group of people is causing this chaos and destruction, but we don’t know who.”

Ro picks up where he left off. “That’s where you kids come in. Cas and I are far too well-known and recognizable in Mancika. No one will be willing to tell us any information without fear of getting in trouble themselves. But you all are strangers and will be able to blend in with the locals and listen to any rumors relating to this issue.

“For this to work, you must maintain a low-profile. So no showing off with magic.” She gives me a pointed look. I flinch away. Last night had been an accident. Besides, I don’t think I could summon up that much magic right now even if I wanted to.

“Time is of the essence. As soon as we can put a stop to this, the better. Any questions?”

Um, yeah. About a hundred. My mouth stays shut though, and we all shake our heads.

“Perfect. Joe and Tessa, we have a few more things for you. Everyone else is dismissed. Go pack any items you think you’ll need, but keep it light. If all goes well, we’ll all be back here tonight just in time for dinner.”

All our friends get up and leave the room, chatting excitedly with each other. All the previous tension between them seems to be gone for the moment. I wonder how long that will last.

“That was a very censored version of what’s actually happening.” Tessa leans back and kicks her feet up on the table.

“That’s the point.” Ro flicks her wrist and a gust of magic sweeps Tessa’s legs back to the floor. She frantically grabs for the table, trying not to fall over, and I have to suppress a laugh. “If you want to tell them the truth, that’s a decision you two need to make. Together.”

My laughter dies in my throat. “So this whole mission is just a team building exercise?

“It has multiple purposes. We do need information on the time decay, but you two need to work on your teamwork and leadership skills.”

“Excuse you, I am a great leader.” Tessa puffs out her chest. “You saw how smoothly the Egypt operation went with me, Ari, and June.”

“Yes, but now you have more people to lead and a co-leader to collaborate with.”

I resist the urge to look at Tessa. It figures she would already have more experience than me with magic missions. I don’t know what the “Egypt operation” is, but it sounds like it went smoother than the time Fred, Sam, and I warped there. And it wasn’t even our skills that got us out. It was a cat and some luck.

“So what do you want us to do?” I ask.

Cas’ lips move into a half-smile. “It’s entirely up to you two. We’ve given you a goal, now work together to figure out the best way to achieve it.”

Tessa frowns and looks back and forth between our mentors. “You’re not going to give us any tips or advise?”

“None at all. You have an hour to prepare. Use your time wisely.”

#time warp trio #time warp trio fanfiction #fanfiction #joe #sam #fred #oc #kellie writes #writeblr #kellie fanfic #kellie twt #writing #my post

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azwriting · 5 years

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A Tragedy (Forget Me Not, Kylo Ren x Reader) - Chapter Seven

Hi guys, here’s chapter seven! Sorry it took so long, I kept rewriting a lot of the parts because I couldn't settle on the best way to write it. Also we are going to pretend that purple kyber crystals exist...Anyways I hope you all like it! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

Summary: (Y/N)’s relives all of her most important memories and realizes Kylo and her were more than friends.

Warning(s): Suggestive Material (not really), Mentions of death and pain,

Word Count: 6997

(Y/N)’s eyes fluttered open to the sound of the man whispering her name. Her eyes wide open, untrained, and filled with tears. A tidal wave had crashed over her, returning her past as if it had never left.

She was in a brightly lit meadow, the sun casting a warm halo around a man and woman, who sat contently behind their house in the Nayli countryside. Their attention was captivated by the toddler, their daughter, who sat in front of them on the soft yellow blanket. Her (Y/E/C) eyes were wide as her chubby hands lifted a shiny rattle up into midair.

A fire filled her vision next, smoke infiltrating the lungs of the four year old girl being rushed through the burning house by her frantic father. Once outside, her father placed her down on the grass, a safe distance away from the fire. “Stay here, I have to go find your mother!”

The man instructed moving to leave, but the young girl’s tiny hand caught his. “No Papa please don’t leave me, I’m scared!” She sobbed. Another part of the house crumbled down in the background as her father stood frozen for a moment. He quickly retrieved a purple crystal from around his neck and placed the oversized necklace around his daughter’s neck.

“Wear this it’s a Kyber Crystal, one like the Jedi’s used to use in the stories your mother and I told you. It will keep you safe until we return.” The child’s hand clamped around the crystal watching as her father ran back into the burning house, only to never return.

The girl sat in a small white hospital room, any evidence of the fire being cleaned away as she now wore a white medical gown, the purple Kyber crystal still hanging from her neck. Tears streamed down her face, she knew her parents were gone, and she was all alone. A woman with fair skin, warm gentle eyes, and her dark hair braided up entered the room sometime later. Her eyes traveled from the focused little girl to the floating syringe beside her, a knowing smirk forming on the woman’s face.

“Hello dear, what’s your name?” The woman offered her a sincere smile, stepping closer.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N)” The girl whispered, the syringe dropping in the background.

The woman frowned, “My name is Leia Organa, can you say that?”

The child smiled softly, “Lele.” Leia laughed, she supposed that was close enough.

“(Y/N) love, would you like to come home with me?” The girl nodded eagerly, perhaps this woman could provide her a new home, a new family.

The woman with a long braid trailing down her back, Leia, carried the girl into a spacious looking condo overlooking the capital of Chandrila, Hanna City.

“Leia you cannot seriously be thinking of taking her in?” A deep voice spoke causing the little girl to whimper, snuggling deeper into Leia’s shoulder.

“I knew her parents, (Y/M/N) and (Y/F/N), it’s the least I can do. She’d be an orphan if I didn’t!” Two men sighed audibly and a large wookie mumbled incoherently as well. “There’s another reason though…” Leia moved to put the girl down on a soft white carpet where a black haired boy with brown eyes, looking to be a year older than her, played with levitating toy blocks. As soon as the girl sat next to the boy, her hand lifted and flew a blue block over to her. The boy’s head lifted, shooting her a glare to which she only giggled at.

“She’s strong with the Force, Luke.” Leia said to the sandy blonde haired man.

“You said (Y/L/N)?” Luke questioned. Leia only nodded and Luke let out a small laugh.

“What’s funny kid?” the dark haired man asked.

“She must be the ancestor of Qui-Gon Jinn, Old Ben’s master. His great niece or something! You have to keep her then…”

The brunette man sighed once again, “Great another Force User, as if I wasn’t already outnumbered!”

The girl, age six, woke in a dark room, a nightmare about her parents demise causing tears to fall thickly down her face. She quickly climbed out of her bed, her tiny legs carrying her to her sense of comfort. She looked out at the living room seeing the bustling nightlife of Hanna from the large open balcony, before entering the room next to hers. The boy was in his bed, tossing in his sleep, as the young girl approached his bed still crying. He suddenly woke from a sniffle, sensing her distraughtness in the Force.

“Nightmare again?” He questioned rubbing his eyes, black hair messily splayed across the pillow. The girl only nodded and climbed into bed, into his open arms.

“I’m sorry for waking you all the time Benny.” She whimpered in his embrace.

“It’s okay that’s what I’m here for (Y/N/N), always.”

The girl and Ben were three years older, running through the meadow of Naboo, visiting for a political meeting Leia had to attend. The family had escaped to the quiet fields one afternoon though. The little (Y/H/C) girl was chasing the bouncing black curls of the boy.

“Ben!” She called out, laughing, her smaller legs unable to keep up with the Ben’s long strides. His legs already growing longer than hers, it was not fair.

Ben only chuckled teasing her, “Keep up (Y/N)!” The girl huffed pushing her legs to go faster, leading her to take a misstep and go tumbling into the plush green grass. “(Y/N)?” Ben halted before doubling back and diving into the grass beside the unmoving girl, lying face down in the grass.

“Ben is she okay?” A woman’s voice called from up the hill. He rolled the girl over to see a sheepish smile on her face and the boy let out a sigh of relief.

“I fell.” She giggled and Ben with his warm eyes laughed in return.

“So clumsy!” He pulled her back up to her feet before the same woman, Leia, shouted for them.

“Kids come here, Han take a photo of us!” The children groaned to themselves, not another picture.

“Coming Lele!”

“Coming Mom!”

“Can you hurry up?” Ben groaned watching as the girl fiddled with the wire paneling of the office door.

“Can you give me a minute?” The girl rolled her eyes, keeping her attention on the multicolored wires. The two had been locked up in a stuffy office all day while Ben’s parents dealt with political problems, and it was time for a jail break. Rewiring a blue and red wire, the girl watched as the door flew open. “Ha take that Spaceboy!” Her teasing was cut short by C-3PO entering the room, clearly the reason why the door had truly opened.

Ben gave her sly look and she pushed him out the door past the gold droid. “Go Ben go!” The girl shouted as the two ran through the hanger and out onto the landing strip, heading for the fastest piece of junk in the galaxy.

“Young Solo, Miss (Y/N) where do you two think you are going?” C-3PO called out to the mischievous children. Ben only smirked to the girl as they raced up the ramp and into the cockpit. He slid into the pilot seat and she into the co-pilot. Oh Han would regret teaching these two partners in crime how to fly. Barely being able to see over the dash the two took off in the Falcon for a joyride.

When they returned later, the Falcon covered in branches, Leia and Han with their arms crossed and faces red with anger awaited them.

“Oh we’re so screwed” Both children uttered.

Months later the children would find themselves back on the Falcon, with nervous expressions and intertwined hands trying to find comfort in one another.

“They’re only sending us away because of me.” Ben mumbled, his inky black curls moving to hide his face.

“No they want us to become Jedi’s, to master the Force!” The girl corrected, an excited expression taking over her face. She would become a Jedi, like the ones her parents told stories about.

He only shook his head, “N-No… my p-parents are scared, scared of m-me, of this part hidden in me.” The girl’s smile dropped, eyes widening at his words. Squeezing her best friend’s hand, she urged him to look at her. His warm brown eyes held a look of sadness and fear, bottom lip trembling slightly.

“Well I’m not Ben.”

The girl and Ben were two years older dressed in variating shades of brown robes. Ben, with short black hair and a small braid trailing down his shoulder, was now officially a teenager as they sat cross legged on opposite sides of the room. Master Luke had to split them up, the two were always causing distractions during lessons. They were supposed to be meditating, searching the Force, but the two friends only continued to steal glances at each other, something strange and unfamiliar twisting its way into their stomachs.

Ben was meditating in his hut when the girl bursted through the entrance obviously excited.

“C’mon Spaceboy its time!” Ben popped open one eye, glancing over at her. He was mildly annoyed with her for disturbing his meditation, but her grinning face seemed to diminish his irritation.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” He stood and the two walked out to the overgrown field just beyond the temple and huts, their place. Sitting down beside each other, the young padawans watched as the sun set beyond the ridge, their hands merely touching in the grass.

The girl clad in nothing more than a white nightgown and tears exited her tiny hut and walked to the one a tad further from the temple. Inside the other hut, lanky teen Ben awaited her on his cot, eyes turning sincere as she entered.

“Are you okay?” He whispered already shifting over in his small cot.

“N-No” She choked out, lying down beside him, her body trembling.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She shook her head, “No, just hold me.” Ben awkwardly wrapped his arms around her, her head resting against his bony chest. Feelings inside them both beginning to awaken as they fell back to sleep.

Another year had passed and the girl now 14, with a thick braid trailing down her back wielding her purple lightsaber. Master Luke had thought the color odd, the color symbolizing a connection to both sides of the Force, and the girl purely exhibited the Light side. But she had been drawn to it because of her father’s necklace which she could not part with. Or perhaps it was a possible indication of what her future held. Ben, 15, stood confidently across from the girl wielding his blue lightsaber. His hair was becoming longer, padawan braid becoming lost in the sea of curls, and he had grown beginning to tower even more over the girl. They grinned cockily at each other as they lined themselves up for a training session.

They were the strongest amongst the group of padawans, in combat and in mastering the ways of the Force; Therefore the perfect partners, the perfect challenge as they continued to grow stronger. Ben striked first obviously impatient, but the girl easily deflected the advance with her saber. She went to strike back but he was too quick, moving swiftly to the side. The girl groaned repositioning herself for the next move. Ben swiped at her once again but she ducked and rolled off to the side.

She quickly stood back up with a slight smirk plastered across her face. With black hair covering most of his eyes, Ben sent a playful smile her direction which she rapidly dismissed leaping forward to steal a strike. He didn’t seem to catch onto her plan, seemingly too distracted by something else, causing her to tackle him to the ground. Ben groaned looking up at the girl smiling down at him, her saber merely inches from his neck.

“Gotcha Spaceboy.” His face turned a bright shade of red, his words seeming to be stuck in his throat.

“I hate you.” He finally choked out, a flustered expression still on his features.

“I know.”

The two, another year older, climbed into an old Tandem X-Wing. They had successfully convinced Master Luke to allow them to go to Chandrila for a grand ball Leia was hosting. They just had to be back within two day cycles and were not allowed to tell any of their fellow peers, which was not a concern. Ben did not talk to anyone really and although the girl was friendly with her peers, she stuck with her partner in crime. They’re had been some sort of tension rising within the New Republic though, something Leia nor Master Luke would tell them about, but the ball was being thrown in an attempt to regain back the New Republic’s favor.

The girl leaned forward in her seat, placing her chin on the handsome boy’s shoulder, his eyes locked tightly on the vast darkness of space ahead. He was a terrific pilot at such a young age, taking after his Father, Uncle, and apparently his Grandfather. His Grandfather, Anakin Skywalker, was once a powerful Jedi Knight before being murdered by Darth Vader. Master Luke always told them stories about him, stories he had been told by the man Ben was named after. He always seemed to be saddened by the stories of his murdered Grandfather and his Grandmother who died after childbirth. Ben missed them, even if he had never met them.

“We’re almost there.” He mumbled and the girl smiled, they were almost home.

Landing in Hanna, the two were greeted by Leia, her eyes watering as they fell on the two children before her. In fact, they were not children anymore, instead transitioning into beautiful young adults. She had not seen them in five years, only ever seeing the occasional hologram.

“Ben!” She grinned excitedly pulling her towering son into a tight embrace.

Ben laughed hugging his mother back, “Hi Mom!” Leia pulled back and held her son’s face in her hands, examining all the new little details and changes occurring on his face. The girl knew Leia saw it too, he looked like his Father…

“Hi Lele.” The girl spoke up from the side, her large smile never fading. Leia released Ben and turned to her, pulling her into a tight hug.

“(Y/N) dear, my goodness how beautiful you are becoming as well!” The girl giggled into the embrace as Ben questioned, “Is Dad here?” Leia pulled back from the hug and frowned.

“No he had business he had to attend to, he’s sorry he couldn’t be here Ben.” Ben stiffened and nodded slowly, his eyes glazing over.

“Well,” The girl cleared her throat, “We should go get ready for the ball, I don’t believe Jedi robes are considered appropriate for tonight’s festivities.” Leia nodded and ushered them off, watching as the girl silently comforted her son, something odd transpiring in the Force around them.

The ball had officially commenced and the event center overlooking the city was filled to the brim with people dressed in elegant wear. The girl nervously walked around the dancing couples, picking at the seam line of her mauve colored dress. Leia’s handmaids had transformed the young padawan into a princess: with purple vines painted up her cheeks, white gardenias and lavender woven into her tightly curled hair, and flowers and vines embroidered into the mauve colored dress. She looked like a child of spring.

Eyes followed her as she moved throughout the ballroom, hers only searching for one. And there he was across the room, in dark blue robes, brown eyes wide and already locked on her. His wild hair was tamed and sleek, his red tipped ears poking out slightly as he stalked across the floor to her. He stopped in front of her and the girl’s heart rate picked up, he was becoming outrageously handsome, it was not fair for her best friend to be so… distracting.

“Dance with me.” Ben blurted out, hand restlessly tugging at the high neck of his blue tunic.

“Of course.” She smiled and the two awkwardly stuttered into the flow of the dancing couples.

“You look stunning, if it wasn’t obvious.” The girl blushed fiercely head dropping in an attempt to hide from his prying eyes.

“Thank you Benny, you look handsome as well!” His cheeks flushed a bright red and he dropped his head as they continued to waltz.

“What are these white flowers? They smell beautiful.” He mumbled into the crown of her head.

“Gardenias, my parents used to grow them by the house in Nayli. They are supposed to represent pure love.” Ben pulled back slightly, smirking down at her, making her heart rate pick up once more. He was close, too close for them to be just friends.

“Is that so?”

The pair were back at the Jedi Temple, age 17 and 16, smirking confidently at each other as they positioned themselves for another fight. Their power only continued to grow, and they had an ongoing wager on who would win, both of them the strongest padawans especially together. With quick strategic movements the two danced around the training room as other padawan’s watched curiously, despite their apprehension of Ben. He moved with such agility, it left the girl a little breathless as they kept deflecting each other’s strikes. Suddenly as the girl stepped forward her ankle rolled, causing her to lose her footing.

Not being quick enough to deflect the impending attack from Ben, a scream pierced through the previously focused and tranquil atmosphere. The girl crumbled to the ground in agony, her hands flying up to her neck only to instantly cry out again. Ben dove to the floor, their lightsaber’s long forgotten.

“(Y-Y/N), I-I’m so s-sorry!” Master Luke rushed over alongside other students, quickly examining the singed skin on her neck.

“Bring her to the infirmary now!” Ben with tears streaming down his pale face, pushed away the other students and lifted the girl himself. “Nephew.” Master Luke warned sensing the fear and self-hatred rising in him. He simply ignored his uncle watching the girl’s eyes flutter shut, lightheaded due to the movement and the white hot pain radiating from her neck.

“It’s going to be okay, you’re going to be okay.” Ben reassured more to himself than her as he carried his best friend to the infirmary.

The next memory, (Y/N) had seen it before, but there was more to it than she had previously seen. The girl was lying in the infirmary bed once again, and Ben’s head was still pressed against their intertwined hands, sobbing. “Ben,” She whispered to the clearly distraught boy, “Look at me.” His head slowly raised to latch onto her own watery (Y/E/C) eyes. “I-I’m in love with you.” She whispered, cheeks burning.

Ben inhaled sharply, pushing himself out of his chair to hover over her. A large smile broke across his tear streaked face, “I’m in love with you too.” He quickly pressed his lips to hers, both forgetting the sacred code of the Jedi. A Jedi will not know love, will not be involved in romantic relationships, as it will only prove to be a distraction. Their sweet innocent kisses grew heated, the girl sitting up to remove his tunic, hers soon following.

They broke their kiss at the removal of their shirts and the boy whispered, “I love you.” His sweet eyes were hooded in love, lust, and amazement as he stared down at the girl.

“I love you more.” She gleamed pulling him back into a feverish kiss, a silent vow being passed between their shared breaths and confessions. Their love was worth living in secrecy over…

Pressed against the side of the temple, the girl and Ben stole quick kisses in between lessons. “Ben we have to go before someone notices we’re gone.” She giggled as he pressed his lips all over her neck and face.

“No, we can spare another minute.” He mumbled against her skin before pressing another chaste kiss to her lips.

“Ben Solo! Where are you? Don’t make me hologram your mother!” Master Luke shouted from somewhere, causing Ben to groan dropping his onto her white clothed shoulder, a string of incoherent words tumbling from his lips.

“I forgot I have my private lesson today…” He lifted his head displaying his bottom lip jutted out in a pout.

“Go” The girl giggled, “before we get caught, or worse he calls Leia and she chews both of our ears out.”

Ben laughed, “The latter sounds worse.” She giggled agreeing as he pressed his lips to hers one last time. “I’ll come find you after.” Ben whispered, his hot breath fanning across her face, before parting.

Months later the two sat stiffly in an empty classroom, guilt and nerves etched onto their faces as a furious Master Luke stood before them. They had been caught, caught in a compromising position that clearly stated they were romantically involved, the biggest no in the Jedi Code. “How could you two be so careless? You both know the Jedi are not allowed to have partners, let alone be involved in such activities as you two were!” The girl and Ben both ducked their heads, blushing at the fact they had been caught during one of their nightly secret hut rendezvouses.

“Children can you please excuse the two of us for a moment?” Leia’s voice rose from her hologram placed directly in front of them. Not needing to be told twice, Ben and the girl rushed out of the room, stopping outside the door threshold to eavesdrop. “Leia why are you not furiously chewing them both out? They are jeopardizing their ability to become Jedi!”

His sister sighed, “I’m not mad Luke, that’s why. I think you should allow them to continue being together.” Ben and the girl’s head whipped to look at each other, surprised by Leia’s words. Apparently they weren’t the only ones.

“What? Why?” Luke demanded confused.

“Luke they will continue regardless of your advisory and remember our parents. Who married in secret, who’s secrets were their demise. Please I beg you don’t let that happen to my boy. Don’t let that happen to (Y/N).” Luke let out a frustrated sigh, fisting his graying hair into his hand.

“Fine, Fine! But no one else is to know of their relationship.” Luke reluctantly agreed. Ben and the girl outside the door let out a loud cheer as they embraced each other tightly. Leia laughed hearing them and Luke groaned, already regretting his decision.

“You two also need to be taking precautions, I don’t want to be a grandmother yet!” Leia called and Ben’s face burned bright red.

“MOM!”

Kisses were being peppered across Ben’s exposed skin as he carried the girl on his back, heading to the quiet fields ahead. The sun was touching the horizon as the day came to an end, soft pastels painting the sky and clouds. Ben squatted down once he arrived at their spot, letting down the girl. The two sat, the girl placing herself between Ben’s legs, her (Y/E/C) eyes watching the sunset with immense happiness. “So beautiful.” She traced the swirls of lilac woven into the pink sky with her index finger.

“You are.” Ben whispered pressing a kiss to her hair, eliciting a small snort from the girl. The two watched the setting sun for awhile, enjoying the tranquility of the evening when Ben spoke up once again. “Will you marry me?”

The girl jumped in his arms spinning to look at him, wide eyed. “What?”

Ben’s face flushed immediately, “I mean I don’t have a ring, but marry me?” The girl gawked for a moment, her mind unable to process fully.

“We’re so young though…”

“So, you’re the one. My grandfather was nineteen when he married my grandmother. I’m 18 what’s the big difference?” The girl’s face broke into a large smile as she turned fully, straddling his lap.

“I’m the one?” She whispered hands lifting to cradle Ben’s cheeks.

“You always have been. You and I were written in the stars, brought together by the Force.”

The girl giggled, “Such a poet Mr. Solo.” He snickered lightly, still waiting for her response. “Yes, of course.” She answered finally. Ben’s grinned so widely, pulling her down into a messy kiss.

“Shit,” Ben breathed when they parted for air, “I’m going to need to find a ring.”

“(Y/N) wake up.” Ben whispered one night, weeks later.

“Hmm what?” The girl shifted in her small cot, seeing Ben fully dressed in his darkest robes, kneeling down beside her.

“If we leave now, we’ll be back before dawn. No one will know, not even Luke.” The girl blinked heavily, pushing away the sleep still clinging to her.

“Leave to where?” She questioned, puzzled.

“To get married.” Ben smiled, as if it was obvious.

“Oh you were serious about that?” The girl joked, pushing her blanket off. Ben scoffed helping her stand as he did. “What about the rings? And a dress? Witnesses? Ben what about all of that?” She questioned looking into her love’s eyes.

“You’re lack of faith in me is disturbing. I have it all figured out don’t worry about it.” The girl narrowed her eyes, observing him.

“Okay let’s go!” Ben grinned and pulled her out of the hut and towards the old Tandem X-Wing.

The sound of wind brushing through trees and water slowly lapping against the shore filled the girl’s ears as she walked towards the balcony overlooking the endless blue of the Naboo lake. The place she had loved so much as a child and now she would be wedded here. At the place where Ben’s grandparents had secretly sworn their endless love to each other and now she would do the same. The ivory dress, with white flowers blooming throughout the body and sleeves, blew gently in the warm breeze as she walked towards her fate. She grinned to herself in excitement with nerves filling her to the brim as she thought of their secret wedding about to take place.

It was simply beautiful in Naboo: she could feel the warm setting sun on her skin, the smell of cherry blossoms floating through the air, and the gentle warm breeze flowing through her. A crown of white gardenias and lavender was placed on top of her ivory lace veil and her purple kyber crystal still hung from it’s usual spot. She could feel it in the Force, in a way, her parents were with her.

The girl looked up to Ben, who grinned whole heartedly down at her. Their hands intertwined as the Minister asked them to recite the vows of unity.

Ben and the girl in synchronization recited, “My soul honors your soul. I honor the place in you where the entire universe resides. I honor the light, love, truth, beauty and peace within you, because it is also within me. In sharing these things we are united, we are the same, we are one.” The girl’s (Y/E/C) eyes filled with tears as they placed the delicate silver bands onto their ring fingers.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may kiss the bride.” Ben eagerly swept the girl into his arms and bent down placing a sweet passionate kiss to her lips. The Minister excused himself as the two broke away.

“My wife, (Y/N).” Ben breathed out testing the word for the first time.

“My husband.” The girl whispered back, grinning. C-3PO congratulated them but the two ignored their one witness, only focusing on each other. “How did you find this lovely gown?” She questioned her husband.

“I had some help.” Ben smiled looking over to the woman standing next to C-3PO, his mother.

Leia approached them, tears in her eyes, “As much as I would love for you two to stay longer so we could celebrate, you have to go before Luke finds out you left, and find a way to hide those.” She pointed to their left hands adorned with a silver wedding band. The couple nodded saying their goodbyes before running back to the X-Wing, hand in hand.

“Would you stay still?” The girl groaned trying to remain still, but her back was starting to kill her.

“How much more do you have to do?” She questioned Ben, who sat to her side, illustrating her portrait into a large piece of parchment.

“Not much, now stay still.” He responded eyes flickering up to study another area of her face.

“You’re lucky I love you.” The girl mumbled observing the black leather necklace that hung from Ben’s neck, holding and concealing his wedding ring underneath his brown tunic. A similar necklace hidden under her tunic as well. They had been married for 3 months and Leia had kept their secret, vowing that she only wanted them happy. Ben snickered, the ink from his pen gliding perfectly against the piece of paper as he continued to commit her image.

“I know.”

“Ben talk to me.” The girl pleaded as her husband’s screaming woke them both up in her tiny hut one night. He had been distant lately and the girl was unsure why. She could feel this other side of him edging it’s way closer and closer to the surface, but she was unsure what it even was. His nightmares seemed to consume him every night, dark circles starting to form around his eyes.

“It was you, you died.” The girl nodded slowly not showing any sign of being bothered by his words.

“How?”

Ben only shook his head, “I’m not sure it was blurry, but you were crying and there was smoke… but that’s not the worst part.” The girl’s hand rubbed up and down Ben’s back soothingly, silently asking him to continue. “You were being carted through the streets of Hanna. Your skin was pale, flowers placed in your hair, your whole body l-lifeless.” Ben shuddered at the thought, tears slipping down his cheeks.

“Love, I’m not going anywhere.” She comforted wrapping her arms around his shaking frame.

“I know, I will protect you. I promise.” Ben stated coldly into the quiet night.

The girl and Ben, now 19 and 18, walked across the vast fields of the planet. “Ben where are we going?” The girl groaned, not being able to see behind Ben’s large hands, that covered her eyes and most of her face.

“We’re almost there, patience my wife.” He laughed at her impatience. She sighed annoyed but allowed him to continue to lead her to the unknown destination. “Okay stop, but no peeking!” Ben instructed after another 10 minutes. The girl felt his hands leave her eyes but she kept her eyes closed as told. She could smell the sweet smell of multiple flowers and the faint sound of lapping water. “Keep your eyes closed.” He reminded her sounding farther away. The girl heard the sound of a swoosh, like a door opening, before warm calloused hands grabbed hers, guiding her forward. After a moment Ben stopped, “Open.”

He was close enough that the girl could hear his racing heartbeat pounding inside his chest. Slowly opening her eyes, a wide open living space greeted her. There was a kitchen on the side, a hallway behind them and another long hallway in front of her.

“Ben where are we? Who’s house is this?”

Ben let out an uneasy laugh, “Um, it's ours.” The girl whipped around with wide eyes, looking to the smiling boy.

“What?” She questioned, a smile erupting across his face.

“It’s our house, the original owners have long abandoned it. Master Luke said after we are done training we can live here. Think of it, we will be Jedi Masters, training padawans, going on missions around the galaxy.” the girl grinned, letting out a small squeak of excitement, before rushing around the house to examine it. It needed some work but nothing too bad, surprisingly, but she had a suspicion that Ben had been fixing the place up. The girl stopped by a large window beside the kitchen, observing the quiet terrain surrounding the house.

“No neighbors? You can’t even see the temple from here.” She felt Ben quietly step up behind her, moving her hair to the side.

He planted soft open mouth kisses down her neck, “No one to hear us.” His voice came out huskily and the girl turned to face him with a smirk on her lips.

“Ben Solo you are positively evil.”

Ben laughed, “That’s why you love me.”

She scrunched her nose up, “An argument could be made.” Ben went to argue but she quieted his words by placing a feverish kiss to his waiting plump lips. He kissed her back immediately, their kisses soon becoming sloppy and needy.

“I love you (Y/N), more than anything.”

The next images were familiar, the setting of a nightmare. Ben had not come over to the girl’s hut that night, instead falling asleep in his own hut. She was worried about him, more nightmares and dark thoughts were plaguing Ben. He had even begun to express his doubt over what his place was in all of this. The girl just hoped that her love would be okay… The girl jolted awake to the sound of screams and the smell of smoke.

Grabbing her lightsaber, the girl rushed out of her hut, seeing the main Jedi Temple on fire in the background. Her eyes were automatically drawn to the bodies lying in the field, slaughtered in cold blood. She stood frozen, what was happening? She could hear screams within the temple and immediately began to run to help, but she was yanked back by a shadowy figure causing her to drop her lightsaber. “Ben! We need to help them!” She twisted around his arms to see blood smeared on his one cheek and how disheveled looking he was. There were tears wind whipped and dried on his cheeks, leaving behind a streaky mess. “Benny?”

The girl questioned fearful of the dark glimmer in his eyes. “(Y/N) we don’t belong here.” The girl went to cut him off but he shouted at her, “Let me finish!” She was frightened, this was not her Ben. “Luke tried to kill me, he sensed my power, my strength, our strength! We were a threat to him!” Ben exclaimed, looking back to his destroyed hut. Were?

“Are you hearing yourself? This is your Uncle, Ben.” The girl tried to reason with him, but he would not hear it.

“They’ve been lying to me about everything. You know my grandfather, the great Anakin Skywalker who was murdered by Darth Vader? He wasn’t!” The girl’s eyebrows furrowed, what did he mean? “Anakin Skywalker was Darth Vader! One of the most powerful Sith Lords to live, and I have that blood in me.” The girl shook her head in disbelief, was Ben really related to Darth Vader? How had he even come to find out about this? Why had everyone lied to them?

“Join me, my love.” Ben pleaded still having a firm grip on her upper arms.

“You know I can’t follow, I can’t, we can’t!” The girl pulled against his grip but it only tightened making her grit her teeth.

“I have and you can too. I can protect you.” The girl shook her head violently, tears pouring down her crimson cheeks.

“I can’t follow you, you know that.” Ben huffed out frustrated, releasing his hurtful grip on her arms to push his hair out of his face. She backed away slowly until she heard the loud pleas coming from the temple once again. She turned to run but a hand grasped her once again.

“No (Y/N), I can’t lose you too!” Ben pleaded sorrow plaguing his eyes.

“I’m sorry Ben, but you already have.” The girl trembled as the words fumbled out of her mouth. Her hand reaching up to yank off the second black necklace she wore.

“N-NO!” Ben choked out, but it was too late. The girl handed him the necklace holding her wedding ring, before she pulled herself free of his grip. She was angry, upset, and regretted her actions but she could not focus on that as she ran inside the burning building. Inside the burning temple, smoke filled her lungs and vision.

She was not inside long before an awful loud rupture blared over the sound of crackling fire. She looked up to the ceiling, panic filled her bones, knowing what was to come. “(Y/N)!” A pain filled voice cried outside, just in time as the roof collapsed, caving in on top of her.

The girl stirred against the hard platform, her eyelids and lungs feeling heavy. “I don’t know R2, she just shut herself out of the Force, I can’t sense her anymore. That’s why she must forget, it's the only way to keep her safe from him. Set course for the Hosnian system, she will be safe amongst the Republic.”

The girl coughed, eyes fluttering open for a moment blinded by the bright light, “Master Luke?” She heard shuffling and then a shadow appeared in her eyes, blocking out some of the light. “Master Luke, where’s Ben? Is he okay?”

The shadow let out a deep pained sigh, “Shush dear everything’s okay, close your eyes and rest. Everything will be okay.”

The last two memories were not hers, (Y/N) knew that, yet despite that they entered her mind. Ben was covered in smoke and tears in the bedroom of the house, the house he had gotten for him and the girl. “She’s gone, She’s gone, She’s gone!” He repeated over and over again, losing control at the end. He had tried to run after her, but the roof caved in before he could enter. Now she was gone, he could not feel her in the Force anymore. Her pure light energy was gone, replaced by a hollow feeling inside him.

The tears poured down his face as he let out a gutted scream filled with anger and devastation. Ben retrieved his lightsaber from his side, igniting it. The blue light illuminated his sorrow filled face as he let the rage take a hold of him. He began slashing the corner of the wall in the bedroom, before eventually collapsing to the floor in exhaustion. His trembling hands reached out to collect her grey and black lightsaber from the floor and the black necklace with her small silver band tied to the end of it. Ben held the items in his hands as his sobs continued to shake him to his core, his mind racing around one single thought, his love was gone.

The next one, Ben was clad in all black robes on his knees in tears, staring out at the blackness of space. The setting around him began to fade and shift into what he was weeping over. Two coffins being carted through the dark streets of Hanna. Hundreds surrounded the coffins and horses, carrying flickering candles, mourning the loss of the two Chandrila children. In one coffin a hologram of Ben Solo laid lifeless dressed in dark blue robes and covered in white flowers. In the next coffin was the girl in a dark purple dress. Her hair was adorned in lilacs, lavender, and white gardenias, just like Ben’s nightmare. She looked beautiful just as he remembered her, but the color to her skin was gone. She was just as lifeless as he felt.

Ben hiccuped feeling a shaky hand being placed on his shoulder. He looked up and through his veil of tears he saw his mother standing beside him. She was crying watching the coffins moving slowly through the quiet streets, silently comforting her son, despite all that had happened. Leia knew her son was not dead, she knew he had turned and caused the destruction of the new Jedi.

Her hand swiftly was removed and the image began to fade, Ben back on the Star Destroyer. He quivered, clenching his gloved fists as he felt the darkness inside rise. His love was gone and he blamed Luke Skywalker. Ben swore he would find him and destroy him, as another realization dawned upon him. Just as Hanna was being led to believe, Ben Solo truly was dead.

(Y/N) looked ahead, her face soaked and her body trembling. “(Y/N)?” The man asked once again crouching down to her level. Her (Y/E/C) eyes fell onto him, inhaling sharply.

“B-Ben?”

His warm eyes filled with tears and hope, “Yes, it’s me! It’s Ben, your Ben… your Ben.” He trailed off pushing her hair back behind her ears and settling them on her cheeks. (Y/N)’s heart was pounding in her chest as her mind tried to process everything, it was all too much to handle, to bear. The girl was her, Kylo was Ben, her Ben. The fire flashed in her mind, then the massacred students, his dark rage burning inside.

“N-No, no, you’re not!” She sobbed out pushing his hands off of her face. “You’re not him! Ben Solo is dead!” (Y/N) screamed standing up abruptly. He stood with her trying to grab ahold of her, trying to calm her down. (Y/N)’s eyes fluttered shut remembering the shared kisses, shared embraces, their unclothed bodies moving together in such synchronization. It was all too much she could not keep it in. She was a volcano about to erupt.

“D-Don’t touch me!” (Y/N)’s hands stretched out to push him off, but instead a power, a force, inside of her sent him flying backwards. Kylo was ten feet away on the ground, looking up at her bewildered, a part of her now unlocked like her past.

Without so much as a second thought, (Y/N) took off running back into the house and into her room. Her name was (Y/N) (Y/L/N), she remembered who she was, she remembered the love, happiness, and pain.

She wished she could forget again.

Taglist:

@benpeggycartersolo

@2heures

@thephantomwriter

@thefandomzoneisdangerous

@carol-chann

@gambitsqueen

#kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren fanfiction #ben solo #ben solo x reader #ben solo fanfiction #star wars #star wars series #Adam driver x reader

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apveng · 4 years

Text

Why Do You Need Supergirl, Anyways?

Hey all, here is the second part to my as yet unnamed Kalex story. Part 1 is here.

****************************************************************************************

Alex directed a chop at J’onn’s kidney. He dodged easily, playing right into her trap. She feinted to the right and then kicked at his ankle bringing him to his knees. Before she could follow through on the advantage, he slapped on the mattress to signal he was done.

With a sigh, she stepped back, flicking a glance at the wall clock to note the hour. Right on the dot, as always.

“Good job, Alex. You almost got me that time.” J’onn grinned as he pulled a towel from the rack.

“Ha! Very funny.” Pulling her own towel, she sat down on the bottom stair. “How is Hope getting along?”

“You are her trainer. You would know that best.” J’onn joined her on the stair. “She is five, Alex. What do you expect at this age?”

“I am not driving her too hard, am I?” Alex asked drawing her brows together.

“No.” J’onn smiled. “You are just driving yourself too hard. You teach her well within her levels and then spend days worrying about how that is not enough. It is not fair on you, Alex.”

“She is only half human. She needs to know her strengths and her limits.” Alex offered her defence.

“Even humans need to know their strengths and limits.” J’onn pointed out gently. “You can’t prepare for every eventuality, Alex.”

When she didn’t reply, he gently touched her shoulders. “You said you had something to tell me about Kelly and Obsidian?”

She allowed the change of subject. It was to her benefit after all. “Yes. Obsidian is seeing some abnormal data in their reports.” J’onn leaned back in expectation. “A spike in trauma and virtual violence. The strange thing is that none of the usual safeguards and identifiers are working. they should have gotten flares, but they aren’t.”

“The last time this happened…”

“Yes. We had the Leviathan.” She suppressed the pain she felt every time the word came up. By this time, she was an expert. “But since then, protocols have been put in place. And, it is not just that. There is no abnormality in code or how the AI is working. Kelly and Andrea are sure it is not the code.”

“Do they want us to take a look into it?”

“If we can, given that J’onn J’onzz PI is not really part of El Mayarah. And, we” She waved between the two of them “only provide security solutions not investigative ones.” They worked together, but J’onn continued with his PI work on the side. Alex no longer felt like playing and had opted out. At times, she needed to remind J’onn of that.

J’onn appeared thoughtful. “Did Lucy or Barry call you?” He asked finally.

“Lucy did.” She admitted. “Wanted me to attend a meeting this week. She said Barry and the rest of the League wanted me there. Along with Luthor, James and Lois.” She shrugged. “I am not sure what I could do to help them. I am not a hero.”

“If you mean super or meta human, or vigilante given Kate, neither are Lena Luthor, Lucy Lane and of course Jimmy Olsen.” J’onn raised his arms to stave off her protests. “You should attend the meeting, Alex. It is important.”

After a couple of years of trying to involve her in these things, J’onn (and the others) had finally given up. So, for him to now press her. It really must be important.

“Is it about the anomaly Obsidian noticed? Are other people noticing these things too?” She took a guess. At J’onn’s raised eyebrow, she added. “You brought it out of nowhere. I do notice such things, you know.”

He smiled the proud dad smile that always graced his face during moments like these. At one point in time, it used to make Alex feel proud too. These days, it made her just feel disappointed in herself. All over again. She didn’t want to hurt him by rejecting what he offered though. So, she changed the subject. “Why do you think I need to be there, J’onn?”

“Lucy may not have known this since I didn’t tell her. But, M’gann is here and we know what the anomalies are about. We need you for multiple things, but mainly because we need you to work on your Cupcake solution for detecting White Martians.”

The Cupcake solution—a play on the day when the attack occurred—was something that Alex had devised after the White Martians had last infiltrated the DEO. It allowed the user to screen for infiltration by shapeshifters, specifically White Martians. It had found widespread usage in the post Leviathan world. In fact, money from it had been her starting capital for El Mayarah.

“You already have it.” She noted puzzled.

“It is not working.” Before she could protest, he held up a hand. “No, I don’t mean, it is not working as it is intended to. However, they have found a workaround.”

“Of course, they have!” Alex noted dryly. “Why don’t the bad guys ever let up?”

“For the oldest bad guy reason ever. To take over the world. Or, universe in this case.” J’onn offered with a grim smile.

“Right.” She scoffed. “But, why can’t Luthor or Brainy develop the counter? Why me?”

“You have more experience and we are running out of time.” He paused and then added. “M’gann, the league and all the government and security agencies around the world trust you.”

All the government and security agencies around the world? Damn!

“Lena Luthor hasn’t been planning for world domination or world mind control since long. From what I understand, she has been a model citizen these past few years.” She argued, feebly.

J’onn looked at her as if he expected better reasoning skills than that from her. Now that, she was okay with. She sighed and dropped her head. “I know, I know. Trust once lost is difficult to gain back.”

Seeing no out, she nodded her assent and moved onto the details. “What is the league and all the biggies planning while I develop this detector? And, you know, I’d need access to at least some of the facilities that they think have been infiltrated if they need a solution.” She raised an eyebrow at J’onn. “I assume Director Dox has an offer I cannot refuse.”

“He does indeed.” J’onn chuckled. “As for the league, they are planning for a show of strength around the planet. They hope the invasion can be put off if they can make it look like it will be costly.”

Huh!

That plan seemed full of holes to Alex. If the show of strength had been enough, why would White Martians ever infiltrate them or plan for this invasion? She must be missing something.

“J’onn…” She started.

“All in good time, Alex. Attend the meeting. M’gann will tell you what she knows and then you will understand.”

“Alright.” She nodded. “Call in Kelly as well.” If Obsidian and other virtual world tech were being tampered with, they needed a perspective from them as well in the room. Not to mention that Obsidian would be another field of trial and investigation for whatever solution Alex needed to come up with.

“Arcata is coming. I will ask her to bring in Kelly and William.”

Right! She had forgotten that Andrea had joined the league as well.

She stood up. “Okay. See you at the meeting this Thursday, then.”

J’onn nodded. And, that was that.

**********************************************************************************

“…It’d be hard to convince her.” The room fell silent as Alex came in. Apparently, the meeting had started without her. She wasn’t late, so everyone else must have been early.

How convenient for them.

As she paused, trying to tamp down her irritation, M’gann came over to her with an affectionate smile. “Alex. After a long time. I am so happy to see you.” Alex hugged her tightly.

She liked M’gann and had always wished her back. Not just for J’onn or M’gann herself either. She had needed some straight talking, and in her experience, she had only had M’gann who gave it to her. Even Kelly hesitated and hid behind psychoanalytical lingo. And, with her mother, there were always tangles.

There was no greeting, affectionate or awkward, from any of the others. She met regularly with most of them. Not because she wished to but because none of them, not even Barry and Iris, Sara or Kate, Nia, Brainy, or even Andrea and William or Lucy, were willing to just let her be. One would think they had been specifically asked to keep an eye on her. James she saw less frequently, but she did meet him for a drink---strictly non-alcoholic on her part—every once in a while where he never talked about his girlfriend and she never asked him about his decision to move back to National City.

All of them knew not to make a fuss when she walked into the room.

Lena Luthor, now…. She shook her head inwardly.

Eh. You work with the people you have.

Alex sometimes wondered if her anger at Luthor was misdirected. May be, she herself deserved at least some of it. Lena had been just a friend after all. And, a pretty one-sided friend at that. Then she remembered the events leading up to the Leviathan and all her reasoning and compassion went out the window.

Setting aside her anger for the moment, she nodded at the CEO of Luthor Corp. If they have to work together, no point getting on the wrong foot.

She took the empty chair beside J’onn and got directly to the matter at hand. “I am ready to work on the solution, if,” She paused to stress her point. “…that is the only way. I assume Director Dox can give me access to the DEO and M’gann the details of your suspicions. Is there anything else you need from me?”

All she needed was an assent and then she can get up and leave.

Everyone looked around the table. She didn’t like the look of that. That meant something was off.

“We need…” Barry offered after a long pause when nobody else seemed willing to answer her question. “Kara.”

Kara.

Noises receded away from her ear. It felt as if all her senses have shut down.

She couldn’t even gather her thoughts. She felt…

She didn’t know how she felt. She should be thinking something, shouldn’t she? Answer someone. But, what about? Her thoughts scattered as soon as she tried to gather them.

Nausea rose up. She bent to stave it off.

She didn’t know how much time had passed before she came to. “...I told you, M’gann.” Someone was saying.

“I didn’t know she was going to have that strong a reaction. In that case, is it even right to…” M’gann replied. Alex pulled her focus back and concentrated on her breathing.

In… Out…. In… Out.

Once she was sure she had the ability to listen without making a fool of herself again, she sat up, shaking Kelly’s and Nia’s hands off her in the process. She barely noticed.

“Have you found…” She paused, took a deep breath, and then asked, calmly. “Kara?”

M’gann and J’onn exchanged a glance. Most of the rest looked away. It was Luthor who replied. “No. At least. Not that I have been able to find out.” She smirked. “And believe me, there is little that misses my notice these days.”

“I see. What did you mean then, Barry?” She waited patiently for Barry to find his bearings.

Before Barry could reply though, Lena Luthor continued with another one of her maxims. “I am not sure we really need Supergirl.” She waved around the table. “Look at us. We have the mightiest heroes of Earth gathered here. Including Superman. Not to mention that in a pinch, we have his boys and the people from Argo. We have the brightest minds on Earth.” Here, she nodded at herself, and to Alex’s surprise, at Alex, and at Brainy and James. “We have J’onn and our White Martian allies. Why do we need another Kyrptonian?” She paused and looked around the table as if to drill home her point. “Especially someone who left us to fend for ourselves.”

Alex waited for someone to show Lena Luthor her place.

After an unforgivably long while, J’onn spoke up. “Everyone copes differently with different things in life Lena. You should know that better than anyone. And, cut Supergirl some slack for having natural emotions.”

What?

J’onn of course was right, but that wasn’t a case for why Kara was needed. That was just a case for Lena Luthor being a hypocritical idiot.

“Heroes should be better.” Lena stated in a matter of fact voice.

“Yes, yes. It is all Kara’s fault and she disappointed you big time. We know the spiel.” Nia’s voice dripped with disdain. Alex looked towards her hopefully. Nia turned to M’gann. “But, you know. I think Dr. Luthor is right. How will what you suggest help us, M’gann?”

What had M’gann suggested? Searching for Kara?

Every time she said the name, even within her mind, Alex felt a flare of pain.

She barely paid it any attention. She couldn’t. Not now.

Were they going for an all-out search for Kara? They hadn’t done that last time. Each one had a different reason. Mostly, everyone thought that since it was Kara’s decision to go, they should give her the freedom to choose. She had earned a vacation.

Vacation! More like exile. Do they even listen to themselves?

If Alex had the chance…

“I am not convinced either.” Brainy said. “The White Martians may not care. They may, but they may not.” He looked at the tablet he always carried with him. “I don’t have enough data to model their behaviour at this point.”

“The White Martians do care.” M’gann retorted. “That is why they are attacking now. They see the planet undefended.”

“Undefended?” Luthor scoffed. “I ask again. Think about this rationally instead of emotionally. Why do we need Supergirl? We have all the power we need in the world.”

Alex had heard enough.

She stood up and leaned forward, arms flat on the table, her voice calm and commanding. “An excellent question to ask Dr. Luthor. So, let us think about this rationally, shall we?” She straightened, pushed her chair back, and got out from behind the table to give herself room to pace.

“We have Superman and the other Kryptonians from Argo. We have power galore.” She agreed. “Although, White Martians, some would say, are more than a match for a troupe of Kryptonians.” She glanced at Clark and got a nod.

“We have J’onn, M’gann and her group of rebels. How many is that?” She looked expectantly at M’gann.

“Around hundred.”

“And how many White Martians?”

“Around ten thousand. The rest are busy discussing with each other what to do with other planets. And, we only have a hundred thousand on the whole.” At the raised eyebrows around the table, she added. “We tend to live by the honour system. It is an efficient method for population control.”

“Alright. We have ten thousand White Martians looking to invade us. Never to fear. We also have our metahumans—Barry, Cisco and his gang, and vigilantes. May be around twenty-five in total?”

“May be a little less than that.” Kate said from her place beside Barry. Sara nodded.

“And then, we have all the world governments and their security systems that we could work with. And, we could always invent more. We after all have some of the brightest minds ever to grace this universe.” She nodded at Luthor who nodded back.

She kept her gaze on Luthor for some time before continuing. “But, why are the White Martians infiltrating us?” She gave them all a lopsided smile, injecting as much sarcasm into her voice as she could. “Oh, right. To get info about those very same security systems.”

She looked around the table. “Am I correct, so far?”

“That does look bad.” Luthor agreed. A cool look followed it. “But, I don’t see how yet another Kryptonian would help.”

Alex met her gaze head on. “What is the one thing that made you decide to turn away from Lex Luthor and the Leviathan and work with us?”

As Luthor looked away, Alex moved on. She stopped beside Nia’s chair. “Who believed in you and mentored you when you weren’t sure of yourself, Nia? Going so far as to reveal herself to you to help you?”

She turned and looked at each of the league members. “I don’t need to list the times when Supergirl has helped each one of us, or, helped or protected this universe, because I’d be here all night. And, I have a kid to get back to. In fact, as do most of us.” At Barry’s nod, she made her final pitch.

“The fact is, as Dr. Luthor says, most of us here are used to helping each other through difficult times and pulling the impossible. Each of us has her, or his, or their own unique capabilities. If my mind serves, Barry was and still is the Paragon of Love. Kate is Paragon of Courage. Clark has become the Paragon of Truth. Sara is the Paragon of Destiny. J’onn is Paragon of Honor and Ryan of Humanity. The rest of us aren’t paragons, but we have all worked damned hard for this world whenever something threatened it. Yes?”

Everyone nodded. She looked around the table and settled on Kelly.

“We worked, we always worked because of each of those paragons. But, we also worked because of Hope. Because we were asked to pull together and believe. Because someone was always able to see our best sides even when.” She paused to look at Lena and then tilted her head to indicate herself. “we were willing to believe the worst of ourselves and were in fact acting the worst that we can.”

She started moving again and then stopped at the end of the table, meeting each of their eyes. “Many of us can be the hope for many of the others. But, who can be the hope for all of us?” She leaned forward, her hands back on the table. “Because that is what we need to take on a threat of this magnitude with such overwhelming odds. Hope, Help, and Compassion for all. Not for one, not just for our friends, for our company or for our city or country, but all. That.” She looked at Lena again. “is why we need Kara.” She stumbled and recovered. “I mean Supergirl.”

Silence reigned. People murmured to each other. Lena looked down, her face white. J’onn and M’gann exchanged a glance. Kelly, Lois and Andrea—who had strangely become a good friend of hers along with William—looked at her with concerned eyes.

As Alex continued to look fiercely around the table, J’onn came over to her. “Alex. You need to sit down.”

“I am fine standing.”

“No. You need to sit down for this, please.” At J’onn’s insistence, she sat down her body full of restless energy. Ready to jump up to fight if needed.

“Alex. You misunderstood us. We are not going to search for Kara.”

“What? But…”

“Alex.” Lois interrupted. “We all know how wonderful Kara is.” She glanced at Lena before looking back at Alex. “Well, most of us anyways. We value her, you know that. However, the truth is that we have all,” she waved at the table, “each one of us searched for Kara through the years. Not together as a mission, no. But, we have.” She nodded at Clark. “Clark just doesn’t go to Argo to ask about her every year. Every time he hears about someone that even remotely sounds like Kara, he goes to whichever place had sent notice, to search for her. Barry and Cisco have gone through universes. Kate, through cities. Sara through times. Nia through dreams. You have looked through as many galactical track records as you can, yourself.” She let out a small sigh. “We have searched Alex. She doesn’t want to be found.”

She doesn’t want to be found. Alex had always known this. Why in the world had she hoped?

“Kara will always be a hero wherever she is though.” Nia pointed out.

“Yes. But, that doesn’t mean she would leave traces. Especially under a red Sun. And even in other places, there are ways to hide yourself while helping others.” M’gann pointed out.

All energy drained out of Alex. If she didn’t know something worse was coming, she would have slumped there in defeat.

Instead, she met M’gann’s eyes.

“What were you discussing earlier then.” She remembered Nia’s words and Brainy’s lack of conviction. “What is your plan, M’gann?”

M’gann met her eyes. “I need you to consider this carefully, Alex. I think this is our only option. It’d give us time for you to work on your detector and root out the infiltrators.” She looked around the table. “I know many of you weren’t convinced earlier. But, I hope Alex has convinced you as to why we need the universe, even the White Martians to believe we have Supergirl with us.”

“It may be unfair to put that hope before the people and then, take it away, don’t you think?” Kelly of course. She knows about false hopes.

False hope.

Ah!

“If that is the case, then people should have worked harder to convince her that they valued her as much as she valued them.” J’onn noted grimly. “Nobody, not even a hero, can work on adulation that can turn to fear and anger at the slightest misstep. Heroes need our faith, respect and friendship. Not worship and judgement.”

“True that.” The League members agreed. They each knew the fickleness of fandom.

M’gann started up again. “Our sources have told us that White Martians decided to attack because they saw that Kara is gone from Earth. Because she is hope and had the people’s faith. Could invoke the people’s faith. Since we don’t have Kara, I thought one of my team can assume Kara’s form and join the league and the DEO in buying time.”

There it is.

The vote was unanimous. Not even Lena abstained. As for Alex herself, she understood M’gann’s argument even if she thought it’d kill her to have to go through it. Thank God, she wouldn’t be in the thick of it. She would just be working on the White Martian detector on the side.

“Alex.” M’gann called and Alex brought her attention back to the meeting, panic stirring within her.

“I would need some time to set my affairs in order at El Mayarah. And then, I will start work on the detector. As soon as Director Dox can bring me my credentials.” She offered, desperately trying to stave off pending doom.

She would have stood up, but J’onn waved her down.

“Alex! You know as well as I that even if the general populace doesn’t know this, anyone who knew Supergirl, friend or foe, knew her as part of a team.”

“No!” Alex shook her head stubbornly.

“Yes.” Brainy, this time. “Alex, for our illusion to work, you need to be closely associated with Kara. The false Kara, I mean.” He punched a few keys on his tablet and then held it up. “There is a 75% chance that we will fail otherwise.”

They all looked ready to fight. To make their point. Even Lena with her rationality.

Suddenly, all fight went out of Alex. “Alright.”

“Wait, that is it?” Sara asked surprised.

“Yes. Anything else?” Shaking heads met her. “Alright, then. Brainy, get me the credentials. M’gann, whatever your plan is, whoever is going to be Kara, have her, him, or them meet me. We will work through the plan and decide how to go about it.” She stood up. “Now. I have a daughter who is waiting up for me.”

Without waiting for a response, she walked out.

*********************************************************************************

Outside, old fears assailed her. Was that why they had asked for her? Not for the White Martian solution, but for her role as sidepiece to the pretend Kara.

Stop it! Alex. Someone who sounded so much like Kara, but was may be her therapist’s voice, admonished her. She paused, took a deep breath and then went through the steps her therapist and she had together developed. Steps to help her when such attacks occurred.

She listed down all the ways that she had been successful and had done valuable things, with or without Kara.

DEO Work. Her investigation of the Leviathan which led them to the attacks. Her White Martian detector.

Hope.

Kara.

Always ending with Kara who had, even when she was filled with resentment, treated her like a hero.

Because, she had been Kara’s hero. And, Kara hers.

Only, she had forgotten. And, Kara and she both are now paying the price.

The rest of the world may stop needing her, but she would always need Kara. She needed to tell Kara that.

The trouble was Kara was nowhere to be found. And now, here Alex was, to be stuck with a pretender for Rao only knew how long.

She shook her head. Useless thoughts. She had always been a professional. It may be difficult, but she will get through this too. After all, she is living through not having Kara every day. And she is surviving.

Once her fears had receded and her steady confidence returned, easier and easier these days, she slipped on her helmet and started up her bike.

To live, Alex would always need Kara. However, in her absence, she would survive.

She hoped Kara did too. Somewhere.

**********************************************************************************

Notes: I respect friendship and don’t think it is less than any other relationship; or romance better than any. Thought I should added that since Alex makes that comment about Lena. :)

This one is a bit long, so I may take longer to post the next part.

Hope you enjoy it.

#Kalex

7 notes · View notes

ghostmeep · 5 years

Text

Random things from chapter 370 that I don’t want people to miss about Haikyuu!! because Furudate is a GeINuS

Some important moments, but also a lot of not so important moments loll

(warning: excessive use of exclamation points and improper capitalization)

First up is the title of the chapter

Challenger — I think this sets up nicely the tone of what is to come.

The challenger in question is Hinata — as the main character, but also based off what Coach Ukai senior said

Hinata is basically a challenger against life — he’s short, and he hasn’t had as much opportunities to learn and develop in volleyball as other people — but he’s not letting go of his volleyball dream.

I’m too lazy to get the screencap of it, but before during the imitation youth camp at Shiratorizawa — they said how Hinata being an ‘uninvited party’ may be how he will be for the rest of his life — that is exactly what happened. Hinata didn’t get offers straight out of high school like Kageyama did — so he found his own path to be able to play volleyball. I can’t wait to see how much better Hinata got.

Okay, I’m sure many people are super psyched about Captain Yamaguchi — and I am too!!!!!!! Because Yamaguchi deserves the wOrlD and I can just imagine how much more confident our little baby grew up to be!!! How he is not afraid to call people out on their shit but he’s also the softest captain ev e r

But also can we talk about Vice Captain Kageyama??????????

Like, it’s always been a headcanon of mine to have Captain Yamaguchi and Vice Kageyama, but I didn’t think it would actually become canon??????? I knew that Yamaguchi was basically certain as captain, but I thought Tsukishima would end up his vice since they are so close and work well together. BUT IT’S KAGEYAMA AND I’M SO PROUD

Because also remember what number he wore in middle school third year

#2 — now, not all schools make their Vice Captain the #2 — but it is highly likely Kageyama was vice during his middle school years as well.

SOO I can just imagine Kageyama getting this number and thinking of his middle school days and how he is going to do so much bETTeR this time around.

How, well maybe the first years would be afraid of him at first, but they’ll quickly come to see his dorky side that just loves volleyball so very much. And how now Kageyama can actually communicate and see his spikers, instead of being reduced to saying ‘faster!’ ‘higher!’ on repeat. How little baby first years will come up to him, ask him if he could teach them out to do something, and Kageyama aGrEEInG (and not rejecting in childish manner coughOikawacough) and Kageyama just stumbling with his explanations and onomatopoeias aoweiaoiwenawe

hhhhhhhhh i wished we were shown Good Senpai Kageyama awoienawieawe

!!! Also, Hinata has #5 (#4 is probably the libero) — can you imagine him taking a pic and sending it to Tanaka all proud like saying that he’ll do the number 5 jersey proud like his senpais before him awoeinawoienawien

Yeah, just please appreciate this page pls aoweinaowieNAOWEIn

But also! Kageyama is wearing Karasuno jersey on top and then Japan one on the bottom — nice juxtaposition Furudate-sensei!

Hinata!!!!!!!!

People have pointed out how this is a recall of the beginning of the series where Hinata saw the little giant on TV — and y ES — but also!!!! Look at the size of his bag aoweinawoien look at him traveling everywhere by bike still.

This isn’t little baby Hinata who is just running around with his friends playing random sports — this is in the making volleyball player Hinata. He must have build some serious muscle aaaaaaaa

Just wanted to make clear!!! Hinata agreeing to go to Rio wasn’t just because of the coach being there — even before he heard about the possible coach in Rio, he learned that Brazil is strong in beach volleyball. So not only is there a coach willing to take him on, it’s at a place full of strong players.

Hinata agreeing to go to Roi just seemed kinda sudden to me, but I do think he gave it serious thought.

Hinata seems like he mostly grew out of his brash, unthinking self from the beginning of the series and I wanted to point that out in case others missed it.

I don’t think anyone missed HInata’s Karasuno jersey hanging — but I don’t think it is there just for sentimental reasons (though I’m sure that is def a part of it)

But Hinata probably uses it as a reminder and for motivation. Karasuno was where he truly began to develop as a volleyball player. It’s where he realized that just because he can jump high doesn’t mean he can play volleyball. He needs to learn to be able to do everything (which is why he’s in Rio)

It’s also where he got to know Kageyama, ofc. Kageyama his ultimate rival that he is still aiming to beat (again, Hinata as a challenger) So I think seeing this jacket just motivates Hinata more than it being there just for memories

aowienaowine just wanted to say I approve of all the one piece mangas Hinata has as a fellow one piece fan aoweinaoiwen

!!! It snowed recently before their graduation

Now, I’m sure absolutely no one is surprised that these two dorks are playing volleyball rIGHT after their ceremony

BuT can we talk about how Kageyama’s serve is strong enough to make Hinata tumble like that oawienaoiwneae

Sure, Hinata used to tumble all the time when receiving — but that was because he couldn’t get proper footing and didn’t know how to receive. This HInata is not like that (look at his concentrated face!!) plus his tumble is exactly like Noya’s tumble whenever he received strong serves/spikes.

Really, both of them grew up so much aaaaaaaaaa

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,IgnoRinG the HAiR

Lol no, in all seriousness, I don’t mind Kageyama’s hair too much. It seemed awful when I first saw it, but honestly the more I look at it the more (exasperatedly) fond of it I get.

It’s like, please don’t let Kageyama ever make life decisions (outside of volleyball) on his own. But when he does, you can’t help but accept whatever horrible decision it was and just want to pat him on the head and tell him he still did good awoeinaweoinawoein

BUT moST iMpoRtaNTLY!!! Look at that smile!!!!!!!!!!!! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Now, I know that this doesn’t mean that Kageyama can smile on command, but his unconscious smile at the very least are a loT SofTer

Honestly, smiling is just about muscle memory. So!!! The fact that his smiles are so much softer and less awkward and sharp means he did a lot of smiling over the past two years awoienaowieanw i’m glad Kageyama has had reason to smile!!!!!!!!! pls we need more soft smiling Kageyama

Hinata having such a cheesy sign in his room is honestly kinda funny to me, but it suits him

The ‘single step’ was mentioned before in Haikyuu as well, at least twice in fact.

First was with Kageyama doing serves to Hinata that first time. And how Hinata was very obviously tired but he kept receiving again and again.

And again the ‘single step’ was brought up when Karasuno made the conscious decision to have someone from the backline back up so that they can catch the volleyballs that are knocked back after hitting the blockers. ( I thinkkkk in the Shiratorizawa game??? not sure ) I don’t feel like searching for the screencap, but yeah.

It was basically how they weren’t going to rely on just the fast reflexes of Nishinoya and Hinata saving those flyaway balls anymore, and how they will take that extra ‘single step’ to make those ‘miracle plays’ into a regular thing.

So since the ‘single step’ motif has been used a lot, I do think the quote suits Hinata more and appreciate it being there.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand that is really it??

It seems some people aren’t really happy about this timeskip and are saying how it all seemed rushed, but I don’t really think that way.

If anyone, it seems like the readers are the ones in a rush. Since everyone wants to just see how all the characters are like after five years, or just wants to know if Fukuroudani won nationals — people are just kinda glazing over Furudate’s actual pacing.

So far we got a pretty nice understanding of what happened, and I’m sure there are more details that will be given later. But for now we have enough to not be confused, and we are given many hints about the developments that Hinata and the other original first years went through.

So yeah, I dunno. I still love Haikyuu!! and I love Furudate and trust that we’ll be given the same great content that we have been getting for the past years.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu spoilers #haikyuu 370 #my stuff

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taehyungiestummy · 5 years

Text

Lucky -- Chapter Twenty-Two

Masterlist Previous Next

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3997

Master Wihwa chuckles as the Hwarang sit in the classroom waiting for his direction. Master WooReuk is standing behind the leader on the platform. It is odd seeing him without an instrument.

“Finally, the performance is near,” Master Wihwa says. “Are you prepared to entertain the people?”

“Yes master!” I, along with all the boys around me, respond.

Another chuckle leaves the mater’s mouth. “Show the Queen, and the officials, that people should not only be ruled with swords and brushes.”

I try to hold the grin from taking over my face, but it is useless.

“Burn up the capital with music and dance. The people’s cheers will determine whether you pass or fail, so you must do your best.”

Hansung nudges my knee with his own. A way of saying we have an easy pass coming our way.

“Do you understand?”

“Yes master,” the group of us chant again.

It’s quiet for a bit as we all think about the task that we need to get ready for, and then Sooho speaks up.

“Hey, where did BanRyu go?”

I turn around in my seat, carefully looking over all the faces to see if Sooho is just missing BanRyu.

He’s not. The boy I’ve made a bit of amends with is nowhere to be found. He was here at the start; I am almost sure of it. Now, it looks as if he has run off.

“Should someone go look for him? What if he is sick?” I speak up.

“Why don’t you go find him if you’re so worried about him?” A boy speaks up. “I’m sure the whole hating one another is a façade.”

I turn back to face the two masters on the platform, sticking my hand straight up in the air.

Master Wihwa grins, “Yes, Ara?”

“Master, if you will allow me to leave, I would like to go find BanRyu and make sure that he is alright.”

“You may go, and give BanRyu our regards,” he nods.

I smirk, standing up and stepping my way between boys until I have reached the door. Then my mission begins as I exit the building. The Hwarang living area is quite big, but BanRyu has to be around here somewhere.

“Ara, what are you doing?” Ahro’s voice fills my ears, causing me to spin around on my heels to face her.

“Looking for BanRyu,” I adjust my headband. “Have you seen him, by chance?”

“I have,” she steps up to me. “I just delivered a letter to him. What’s so important that you need to see him? I thought that you hated him.”

I chuckle, nodding my head a few times. “That’s right, I do hate him in some way.”

“I can show you where I last saw him if you want.”

“If he’s reading a letter, I’ll wait,” I shrug. “Class seems to have been dismissed anyways,” I motion at the group of boys walking around. “There’s no point anymore.”

“He left class early, and you were sent to find him?” Ahro laughs. “What an unlucky draw for the lucky girl.”

“Actually, I asked to go look for him,” I give a quick tight-lipped smile. “So I only have myself to blame.”

“It’s nice to know you care,” she pats my shoulder.

“Yeah, well, Hwarang has changed me,” I shift around on my feet so they don’t cramp. “Do you know who the letter was from?”

“Sooyun,” Ahro answers without missing a beat. “She gave it directly to me.”

“Sooho’s little sister,” I feel my eyes widen in shock.

“She’s in love with BanRyu,” she sighs. “And I think he feels the same.”

“That makes a few things that happened make more sense,” I bite the inside of my bottom lip. “Sooho will lose it when he find out, but I think it’s very sweet. Everyone deserves to find happiness.”

“I agree. Even if I hate his guts, I still want Sooyun to be happy.”

“That’s why you’re a great friend.”

Ahro just barely smiles, “What are you going to do now?”

“I’ll probably still go find BanRyu,” I shrug. “I did say that I was going to. Then gather up the rest of the guys so we can practice our dance before showing everyone tonight.”

“Let me lead you to BanRyu,” Ahro grabs my hand, pulling me to follow her. “I can tell you about how Jidwi keeps trying to help me with chores, and how Sunwoo won’t stop pretending to be my brother. I don’t know which one is worse.”

“You don’t want him to be your brother? Even just as pretend?” I squeeze her hand to slow down. “You like him as I like Hansungie, don’t you? But you can’t do anything about it.”

“I still want my brother, though. I’ve always wanted my brother.”

“Is he still outside the capital. Your real brother, that is?”

“No,” Ahro clears her throat. “He’s dead. Sunwoo claims he was my brother’s best friend, and knows so much about me because of all the stories that he was told about me.”

“He’s been a bit down since your fight, so it’s eating him alive. All he wants to do is make sure that you are happy for your brother’s sake.”

“Boy’s bring too much trouble,” she groans. “I’m so glad you are in here. Sooyun and I can rarely talk, but I can always find you if I really have something on my mind.”

“And that’s why I am so glad that you are the doctor for the Hwarang. Now, where is BanRyu? Where are we going?”

“This way,” she turns, leading us up some steps. “And then down at the end of this path,” she points to where I can see a boy that must be BanRyu standing on a balcony. “Have fun or something,” she releases my hand, and then turns to rush off.

“What a jerk, leaving me all alone,” I take a deep breath. “Might as well go tell him what we are going to do now.” I will myself to finish the journey to BanRyu. “Hey, BanRyu, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

BanRyu jumps, turning to face me and hiding the letter in his hands behind his back. “What? What do you want?”

“Well, Sooho is the one who figured out that you had left class,” I cross my arms. “And then I said that I would go find you, but class let out already, so it was kind of a waste. Still, I set out to find you, and I was going to complete my task no matter what.”

“Oh, well, nice job, you found me,” he forces a smile. “You can leave now.”

“Actually, I think that you should come with me to find the other guys so we can practice our dance some more before we preform it with everyone tonight. I just want to make sure it’s perfect,” I widely smile, batting my eyelashes at the boy. “We have improved a lot, but I can’t have any mistakes. This pass doesn’t rest solely in our own hands.”

“I’ll come in a second,” he nods a few times. “Just give me a moment.”

“To finish reading your letter?” I smirk.

“How do you?”

“Ahro told me, but I also saw you with the paper in your hands when I walked up,” I turn on my heel. “It’s okay to have feelings, BanRyu. Now, you better get your butt down to where we practice as soon as possible. Skipping class is one thing, being late for practice is another.”

“Whatever, just go!”

I giggle as I skip away. “Oh thank you Ahro. What an amazing friend you truly are.”

********

I take a deep breath as Master WooReuk starts pounding on the drums.

Once BanRyu joined the rest of us, we were able to put in a good dance practice, and actually did a few go throughs without any mistakes. It felt like we were finally on the right track.

Now, hours later, the sun has set, and we get to show what we have learned to both Master Wihwa and Master WooReuk. It will be one of the only practices that we have where everyone is working together before we preform it for the people, so we have to get it right tonight.

The music from all the instruments being played all around me flows through my body. I move between the boys, dodging their swords with ease, feeling like a princess in battle that wants to help but has no way to do so. I just have to let my knights protect me, but I know that I am a warrior princess.

The dance ends with the boys spread out around me, thrusting their wooden swords out in different ways and directions. I end up on the ground, near the middle of the boys, with Sooho’s sword over my body as if stabbing someone who is after me.

Master Wihwa chuckles, smiling over at Master WooReuk with approval.

A huge smile is on my face as I take labored breaths. We executed that perfectly, and I know that we can continue to do so.

Then a tension falls over us like a blanket when Princess Sookmyung walks out of the shadows. Her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, and her sword at her side. A woman that must be a helper of some kind stands close by.

“It is the princess,” a boy mumbles.

I slowly stand up as everyone around me moves out of their ending poses.

“She is Princess Sookmyung,” Master Wihwa addresses us Hwarang after bowing to the royal girl. “She will be staying at the Hwarang house for a while, and will teach you about your flaws.”

I feel my jaw set in anger as I clench my hands into fists.

“What are you good at, your highness?” A boy calls out.

Princess Sookmyung has no emotion on her face as she begins walking down the steps to where we all are.

Sooho taps my hip so I follow him to the side. “So cold,” he breathes out.

The princess unsheathes her sword, dropping the sheath and slashing the sword through the air. She begins moving around, fighting off invisible soldiers to a soundless song until Master WooReuk gets the message to give a soft beat on his drum. The princess continues her fluid fighting moves to the steady beat, constantly looking at Sunwoo with a fury behind her eyes.

Then she catches my gaze, and for a second her eyes widen in shock. It is so quick that I’m probably the only one who noticed. The only one who will wondering why she would ever give me a look like that.

Her dance of sorts ends with her pointing her sword at the boy who asked the question.

The boy moves his head just in time to miss the blade cutting him.

“Well, something like that, I would suppose,” Princess Sookmyung’s voice is smooth.

With the boy clearly embarrassed, she pulls her sword away, turning to walk back to the steps. She stops, turning to face us once again.

My mind is all over the place as I try and understand why she was shocked to me. I know that not everyone knows about the state of my eyes, but at this point, not may people will ever give me a look like she did. The looks are more of pity.

“I hear this performance is Hwarang’s introduction to the capital,” the princess speaks up. “You must not make any mistakes. Do you understand?”

The Hwarang give no answers, just deep breaths coming from the crowd. I’m not sure if we stay quiet to defy royalty, or if we don’t know if we should answer someone other than our masters.

I catch Master Wihwa smirking; either at our lack of response, or at how harsh the princess is being to us. Either way, he is finding this scene amusing.

Princess Sookmyung looks over the Hwarang once more before climbing the steps and disappearing the way she came.

“She knows something that I don’t,” I walk back to my starting position with the other six guys.

“She’s a princess, of course she knows more than you,” BanRyu rolls his eyes.

“Not what I meant,” I shove the boy’s arm. “It was probably nothing anyways.”

“Okay, let’s go through it again,” Master Wihwa sits back down. The smirk on his face still present. “No mistakes, understand?”

The beat starts back up, and I feel my brain direction my body without much effort. All those practices in the courtyard, and when I was in the showers are paying off. To know that the people will watch us, and that we are going to make them happy with our dance, is what keeps me going. I could care less about the Queen or whatever the princess is commanding us to do. This isn’t for them; this dance is for the people. To thank the people for believing in us.

I’m not sure how many times we go through the dance. Sometimes a boy on the instrument makes a mistake, but most of the time we just keep going. A tiny mistake won’t be noticed, so we just have to pretend that it never happened. Eventually, everyone is too tired to keep their eyes open, so we are dismissed back to our rooms to rest up before the performance.

“I might fall asleep while walking back to the room,” I tiredly giggle, doing all I can to keep my eyes open.

“We would carry you,” the boys say as one, excluding BanRyu.

“Shut up,” I shake my head. “You all are so silly.”

“If you really think that you are going to pass out, then someone should carry you,” Jidwi says. “We can’t have you hurting yourself before the performance.”

“I’ll be fine,” I let the yawn slip through my lips. “I can make it.”

“You better be ready to catch her, Hansung,” Sooho pats the boy on the back.

“I’m always ready,” Hansung has a boxy smile on his face. “I would never let her fall.”

“Us beautiful ones need our beauty sleep,” Yeowool steps up to be next to me. “If we stay up any longer, our skin will suffer.”

“Oh, like I care about my skin like that,” I chuckle. “Honestly, if I get to be with you guys, I would do anything. This has been one of the greatest adventures of my life, and I wouldn’t change it.”

********

I bounce on my toes as the guys go through the Thanksgiving Routine in their heads. All of us are huddled under an open tent. Some of us still changing into our outfits for the night.

Hansung walks past me, grabbing my wrist to pull me with him.

Sooho and Yeowool are waiting for us as we step up.

“Does everyone know what to do?” I ask, fixing my red headband.

The outfits for tonight are simple: a solid red with black shoulder pads, a red belt with links, black undershirt, and black boots. It is like our normal uniforms that we wear back at the Hwarang house, but with some improvements here and there.

“What are you doing?” Hansung’s voice snaps me back to the conversation. “If I go up, you go down.”

“And show your elbow, then straighten it,” Sooho demonstrates.

“Keep at it,” I notice Hansung has yet to change into tonight’s outfit. “Muscle memory at this point.”

“Don’t stick out your shoulder,” Hansung whines.

“Straighten it, straighten it,” Sooho instructs.

“Just relax, all of you,” I quickly poke the three boys’ stomachs. “We have practiced hundreds of times. I just know we are going to be perfect.”

“If you say so, then it must be true,” Yeowool grins.

“Hansung, you should probably go get changed,” Sooho gently shoves the boy’s shoulder. “Are, I thought you kept him in line?”

I chuckle, “If I could, I would. All you boys would be better off if you’d just listen to instructions.”

“It’ll only take a few minutes,” Hansung shrugs. “Don’t talk about anything too crazy without me,” he flashes a smile before walking away.

“Anything crazy to talk about?” I look between Sooho and Yeowool.

“Are you and Hansung serious about getting together?” Yeowool gently smirks. “You say you’re just good friends, but no one else is getting a chance to sweep you off your feet.”

“You all have a chance, but I’m not committing to anyone while training. I just want to be friends with all of you for the time being. Some of my friends I am closer to and treat differently. That is what happens when I have been with them for a long time.”

“One day we’ll be close enough that you will go on a date with me,” Sooho puts his arm around my shoulder. “If I ask enough, you’ll say yes just to shut me up. I just know it.”

“But what if I enjoy you asking?” I slyly smile, moving away from Sooho. “Keep practicing boys, tonight is the biggest of our lives so far.” I pat both of their shoulders before walking to go check on other Hwarang.

I’m not sure how much time passes, but shortly after I’ve made sure everyone is ready for the performance, Hansung finds his way back to me.

“Ara, you should sit down and rest of a moment,” Hansung places his hands on my waist. “You’re nervous. I can tell just by glancing over at you.”

“Nervous that if I pass or fail our second assignment is completely out of my hands, then you’d be right,” I sigh, looking around for a place to sit. “BanRyu was looking a bit conflicted, but when I asked if I could help with anything he just waved me off.”

“I’m sure he’s just nervous,” Hansung begins steering me to an empty seat. “He just needs space to breathe. Like how you need to take a seat.”

I plop down in the seat, smiling up at Hansung. “Have I ever told you how handsome you are?”

“More now that I wear a uniform,” Hansung leans down to fix my headband. “But yes, you’ve told me I’m handsome. As you are beautiful beyond words.”

“Beyond words is too sweet,” I grin. “But thank you, Hansungie.”

In the next moment, I see Yeowool walk into the open tent with Ahro in his grasp. The poor girl has no idea what she has been dragged into.

“I brought a person who will help us,” Yeowool places his hand upper Ahro’s chin as if presenting her.

Ahro looks around at everyone as confusion and shock mix on her face. “Let me know if you need anything,” she chokes. “I will help.”

“Miss Ahro,” Hansung raises his hand for a few seconds. “I cannot tie this,” he smirks as he holds up his belt. “Tie it for me?”

I feel a pang hit my heart that Hansung didn’t ask me to do such a simple task. There’s no reason to be jealous of my best girl-friend, but it’s never that easy.

“Ara,” Ahro nods as she stands behind Hansung to tie his belt.

Jidwi stands up seconds later, a look of anger washing over his face.

“Where are you going?” Sooho directs at Jidwi.

“I have plans,” Jidwi barely glances over before rushing out of the tent.

“Plans? Here?” Sooho is a bit shocked.

Sunwoo is out of his seat in a blink of an eye.

“What’s your deal?” Sooho asks.

Sunwoo glances at Ahro, his face showing sadness. “Well,” he touches his fingers to his temples for a second. “Don’t talk to me,” he mumbles as he exits the tent.

“Why are those two…” Sooho doesn’t know the word to use.

“Weird? Aloof?” I try to finish the sentence. “Stupid?”

“One of those, yes,” Sooho shakes his head.

“Where’s BanRyu?” Yeowool speaks up.

I feel my stomach flip and my heart drop to my toes. In the last few minutes everything has been flipped upside down. They always call me lucky, but it seems that recently a lot of unlucky things have been happening around me.

“Ara,” Hansung grabs my cheeks between his thumb and index finger on one hand.

“Did I blank out?” I notice Ahro has left.

“Yes, and now it’s time to line up,” he lets go of my face. “It’s almost time to entertain the people.”

“Why’d you ask Ahro to tie instead of me?” I pout as the question rushes out.

“Aw, honey,” he runs a finger over my cheek. “Did it bother you?”

“What?” I hear my voice raise in pitch. “No, no, I just wondered. Since I can tie and all.”

“Don’t be jealous,” he grabs my hand, pulling me out of the chair. “I only want you, Ara. No other girl, just you.”

“Just need to get everyone else off your back?” I tenderly smile.

“It has gotten annoying,” he chuckles. “Now, come on.”

Other boys are already outside in two rows. Hansung and I are the shortest of the Hwarang, so we take our places in the middle of the front row. Yeowool is on Hansung’s right, and then Sunwoo and Sooho are on my left. A smile work its way onto my face when I see the big grin on Hansung’s face.

Master Wihwa chuckles as he walks towards us with Master WooReuk. “What do you think? Our boys are handsome, are they not? And our girl beautiful?”

The two masters stop when they are a few feet away; grins on both of their faces.

“So, are you ready to have fun tonight?” Master Wihwa asks.

“Yes, master,” the group says as one.

From the corner of my eye I see Yeowool raise his hand, and then everyone’s eyes are on him.

“What is it?” Master Wihwa asks the pretty boy.

“Um, I am sorry to have to say this at this time,” Yeowool starts. “But, two of our room have gone missing.”

I feel the world begin to spin as the anger and confusion boil and mix within me. Those two idiots haven’t come back yet. Don’t they understand how important this is?”

“Why are those two…” Sooho has anger laced in his voice.

“Going to get to see my rage straight on?” I clench my hands into fists. “I swear, they are not getting off easy from me.”

“This is what you call ominous, right?” Hansung looks over at Sooho.

“Let’s split up and look for those two idiots,” I look around at my roommates. “They have to be here somewhere.”

“Then let’s go!” Sooho exclaims.

Sunwoo and Sooho rush off one way, Yeowool quickly walks off the other, and Hansung and I jog off between them.

“To the main tent,” Hansung says as he leads the way.

The two of us bound into the tent, seeing only Ahro and a drummer. Both look at us with a sprinkle of concern on their faces.

“Of course he’s not here,” Hansung lets out a breath.

“It was a good idea to check,” I take a deep breath.

“Where will we find them?” Hansung whines.

“Who are you two looking for?” Ahro speaks up.

“Jidwi and BanRyu,” Hansung pouts.

“They better hope I don’t find them,” I feel my jaw set in anger.

“If we don’t find them, we will all fail,” Hansung explains.

“What?” Ahro slams her hands down on the table as she stands up. “Fail?”

The three of us Hwarang give her a weird look at her outburst.

“Well,” she quickly gathers her emotions. “Who cares if you all fail? What does it have to do with me? It does not. It has nothing to do with me.”

“What is with her?” Hansung looks at me and then the drummer.

The drummer shrugs.

“Leave her be,” I grab Hansung’s upper arm. “We still have two idiots to find, so come on.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Drama! Also a longer chapter to make up for a short last chapter. Hope you enjoyed reading! I now have no more story written out, so I need to get back to watching the drama and creating the story. Please, let me know what you thought! It means a lot. :D

#Hwarang fan fiction #Hwarang x OC #Hwarang #Hwarang imagine #Hansung imagine #Hansung x OC #Sooho x OC #Sooho imagine #Yeowool x OC #Yeowool imagine #Sunwoo x OC #Sunwoo imagine #Sammaekjong x OC #Sammaekjong imagine

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aro-ace-advice · 4 years

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Do you ever get burn out? If so how do you combat it? I feel like I can’t get around getting burn out, like I’ll be good for a few months but it’s really just build up to a crash and burn.

ree says: oh definitely! i think the key to combating it is to negate that build up. a lot of the time i think people will push themselves until they collapse, because our society teaches us that if you can function, even if it hurts, you should. this is a big, horrible lie. in order to prevent getting burnt out or having breakdowns, we need to know when to stop and rest for a little while. like, if you’re on a road trip across the country, you typically don’t drive it all at once, right? you have to take breaks for the restroom and for fuel, that sort of thing. you also probably stop occasionally to admire the scenery, or if it’s a long one, you might camp somewhere or check into a motel for the night. if you think of life as one big road trip, it gets easier to remember that you must take breaks. when you see that your fuel tank is close to empty, you find the nearest gas station and fill it up at least a little so you don’t end up stranded. if you feel like you’re getting tired and it’s no longer safe to drive, you find somewhere to sleep.

so, even if you don’t feel like you need a break at that exact moment-- you might not be able to take one a little ways down the road, so it’s best to get what you can while you can. that means taking care of yourself and putting yourself before your other obligations. find out what behaviors and situations are triggering your burnouts, and see what you can do to avoid them or at the very least make it so that they’re less disruptive to your flow. it’s good to be able to sense when you might be coming close to crashing, because you can take a voluntary break instead and keep some of the momentum you had so that it’s easier to get back on your feet.

however, sometimes burnouts happen regardless of anything you do to combat them. that’s just life. sometimes the engine shorts and you need a jump start. the best thing to do in those situations is just take care of yourself in whatever ways you can. we can’t run 24/7, no matter what capitalism wants you to believe. take some time to hang out with some friends, or cook your favorite dinner, or set aside an entire weekend for something you enjoy, like video games or outside time. and even if you don’t feel a burnout coming on, it’s always okay to take some time for yourself regardless! it’s those moments that keep you healthy, so don’t take them for granted or dismiss them!

#gen #anonymous

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fantroll-purgatory · 6 years

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Xyrida Poales

(She’s baaaaaaaaaaaaaaack. Well, to an extent. I wanted to try my hand at an Alternian troll given all the new information we have after Hiveswap, and who better to test than Kamala’s possible post-scratch descendant? Time for a study in contrasts.)

Let me say right from the get-go that I LOVE her and also that I really don’t have too much in the way of things to suggest, because I love her.

Universe: Alternia!

Name (preferably include how you came up with it and why): Xyrida Poales! As far as I’m aware (correct me if I’m wrong) all of the Alternian trolls have the same surname as their Beforean Ancestors, which would mean that Poales would stay. Xyrida comes from Xyridaceae, a family of flowering plants within Poales, for that double reference synergy! Also it just sounds alien, which I like. I debated “Millet” because I find it charming but it seemed too on the nose.

You’re right, they do share it. And Xyrida works well!

Age: Roughly 6-7 Sweeps

Strife Specibus: Bookkind!

Had she been smart, she might have tried to come up with something like “Grimoirekind” to try and cast magic (spoilers: she can’t, but she wants to) but the comfort of having a book in hand to smack a fool upside the head with is something too natural for her to pass up.

If she’s lucky she still could end up using magic with it. We know that Rose couldn’t really use magic until she started combining items to result in wands, like the Wizard Statue + the Knitting Needles. If she combined the book with something symbolically magical like that, she could end up having some good magic book fun later on in the story!

Fetch Modus: I’m horrible with these. My current idea (to tie into her interest in myth and history) is Interpretatio, from the Latin Interpretatio graeca, trying to relate Greek myth to Roman sensibility. So in order for her to put something in (or take something out) she has to think up some kind of justification as to why these things should be stored together. The more outlandish and silly the answer, the better.

That is a really funny idea. Considering her interest in stories and stuff like that, I can see her doing this… Writing a complicated narrative to justify keeping a collection of entirely unrelated items together.

Blood color: Jade

Another thing she inherited from Kamala, though they don’t take the same stereotypes from the Caste. Xyrida falls more into “ intelligent and steady, they are excellent organizers and planners” than “Naturally loyal and loving” but she she can get to that kind of emotional foundation if you give her enough time.

Symbol and meaning: So! Here we have… something of a dilemma. Kamala was designed years ago around the symbol Hi'iaka:

Which logically her descendant would have the right to lay claim to. However, this was before Extended Zodiac gave all trolls Canon symbols, which given their positions as the group’s Heart Prospit players, means they would lay claim to this symbol instead:

Virlo, The Foundation.

HMM…. I think I’ll just try to figure out how to reform Hi’iaka to fit the jade sign language instead of changing it entirely, because it fits thematically so well that it’d be a shame to muck that up.

Trolltag: acroamaticCamarilla [AC] and viciousVagabond [VV]

Okay, so here we go. Xyrida uses AC as her main, which is in her Jade Blood Color. The name is a reference to her love of dramatic secret societies. Acroamatic means roughly “esoteric” as in “hidden or hard to understand”, but specifically to the teachings of Aristotle, mirroring her obsession with the teachings of a certain other male philosopher. Camarilla means “a small group of people, especially a group of advisers to a ruler or politician, with a shared, typically nefarious, purpose” but this is really just a fun reference to Vampire: The Masquerade, since Jadebloods all seem to be some kind of vampire reference. Xyrida herself is very much a “Dracula never leaves the castle grounds” kind of vampire reference though.

Xyrida uses VV when she’s trying to dig up dirt on the Sufferer cult, and she puts it on hemoanon. She’s about the aesthetic, and she figures it’d be dumb to do that on main. However, she’s absolutely horrendous at remembering to log out of it, so most of her friends have received really strange messages from VV and have by now put it together that that’s her side account.

I love the AC one. VV is a great setup too, though I don’t necessarily see the reason for vicious? Maybe vicariousVagabond instead. Living out excitement through researching The Cult without indicating that she’s a tendency towards violence? Unless that’s the impression she Wants to make, then that’s fine.

Quirk:

[AC]: On her main, Xyrida differentiates herself primarily through her typing all of her dialogue like stage directions, which is obnoxious! She sometimes struggles with finding the right emotion to put down, so her friends have gotten used to not getting replies from her when she’s stressed. She has a big love of CAPITALIZING when she’s TRYING TO SHOW EMOTION which reflects the way she stresses words when she talks. “[AC]: Xyrida [Thoughtful]: the quick brown fox JUMPED over the lazy dog”

[VV]: When she’s hemoanon, Xyrida uses the Sufferer Follower quirk, which according to the wiki is “referring to him [the Sufferer] by the numbers 6 and 9 replacing the b and o respectively in sym69ls, as they resembled the cuffs confining him at his execution” though she’s a bit clumsy with it, so she replaces practically every “b” and “o” with it. “[VV]: the quick 6r9wn f9x”

Special Abilities (if any): While having the vague Jade possibility of “becoming a rainbow drinker (maybe)” Xyrida possesses no supernatural abilities, nor does she possess any physical abnormalities that might give her an edge. She’s really just a girl with a book.

Lusus: I’m currently going to have the girls share a Lusus of a Kamehameha caterpillar, but their circumstances are different. Xyrida’s lusus brought her to a hot and humid cave systems somewhere far away from average troll civilization (though, that’s something standard for jadebloods) which is absolutely littered with carvings and long dried paintings in what should be a dead Alternian dialect. It turns out that Xyrida happened to settle in what used to be a base for the Sufferer’s followers, which is what lead to her lifelong obsession with learning about the cult and her Ancestor.

V e r y neat concept, and very good for building a character foundation for her.

Interests: History, Mythology, Storytelling, Dance, Acting/RPing/Theatre in general

You should add the additional more Specific layer of her really liking romantic drama. A highly specific interest in historical drama, maybe? You know those tv shows that are all about reenacting the romantic drama of various royal reigns? Make her love those. Make her love troll romeo and juliet. Maybe make her fawn over fictional characters who are Her Type.

Appearance: Xyrida wears her hair long, but she ties it back in a long fishtail looking braid that she hates to keep anywhere but behind her. Otherwise it’s everywhere and gets in her eyes and drives her batty. Lately she’s been very taken with the idea of looking ominous and ethereal, so she wears a absolutely impractical black cape that’s lined on the inside with jade, so then when she runs around her hive at night it billows behind her and gives her the aesthetic she’s been looking for. Since procuring her cape (she snatched the materials for it from her Lusus’ chrysalis beginnings) she tries to hide her average wardrobe of greys and blacks behind it, so as to add to her mystique.

Adore This I will keep it in mind while working on the redesign.

Personality: Xyrida is a hermit at heart, and she knows it. And hates it. She knows she doesn’t like leaving the hive, she knows she doesn’t like large groups of people, she knows she doesn’t actually like adventure, or strife, or any of the uncomfortable situations that come with it. But by god, does she want to be that person. Xyrida is hopeless with people, and her close circle of friends have just kind of gotten used to her oscillating moods between expressive joy and crushing dourness. In any mood, she’s always dramatic. She feels strongly and expresses with even more strength, partially because she has no idea how not to. This causes her to latch on to people and then push them away with force once she gets too close. This penchant for theatrics certainly leads to her natural skills on the stage -not that she’d ever perform, of course, but the thought is always in her head- and she loves to put on elaborate one-troll shows for her lusus, complete with singing and dancing and of course a tragic love triangle that ends in pathos and disaster for our wayward heroine. In her dreams, Xyrida sees herself as some kind of character in a really strange and elaborate production. It’s the closest thing she gets to thrill in her life.

I love this so much. What a poor hopeless romantic who likes to be alone. In my heart I really hope she likes writing scripts, too. Ones that she could accidentally post online after hours of panicking about whether or not she should post them online.

Ancestor: The Wayfarer [Kamala Poales, The Mage of Heart]

Xyrida is a big believer in the “you must be fated to follow your Ancestor” philosophy that Alternian trolls seem to be split on. I envisioned Kamala’s Alternian counterpart as a minor member of the Signless/Sufferer cult-rebellion. Her skills at pathfinding surely lead her on the road to what she felt was something moral and greater, desperate to convince her two closest companions to join her. However, much like Hi’iaka and Pele, the Wayfarer found herself in the heart of emotional turmoil, and her closest companion betrayed her, slaying her lover and culminating in a duel that left both parties dead, as the rest of the Signless’ retinue fell by the wayside.

Xyrida is absolutely obsessed with this. To her, it is the height of romantic tragedy, and she’s spent many wistful nights dreaming about how amazing it would be to be involved in something to extraordinary, so climatic, so… storybook.

Very fitting for Kamala’s situation, unfortunately. Poor girl. It’s great for her personality and tendencies, though… I adore her. And it’s a great thing for Xyrida to discover and read about. I hope she writes tragic stories about this, and rps as her ancestor All The Time.

Title: Knight/Witch of Heart

Given what happened in Canon, it seems to be a fact that all trolls share the same Aspect as their Ancestors, but different Classes. As Kamala is a Mage, that’s right out, and doesn’t really work for Xyrida’s whole schtick anyways. I’m torn between two very active classes for her, though: Knight and Witch.

With Heart’s inverse being Mind, Xyrida would find more success retreating inward and moving Witch to Seer of Mind, which stifles her growth as a person (becoming the confident go-getter she dreams of) but plays to her strengths (sitting around reading, considering all possibilities and letting her friends do all the heavy lifting). Much like Jade, Xyrida has something of a learned helplessness complex, where she simply believes that she just can’t do things because of who she is. As a Witch, she’d have to learn that she change herself just as much as she can change everyone else.

Knight is a fun option I’ve considered because Knights have something of a “hidden self” complex. Dave’s sunglasses coolkid facade and Karkat’s shouty, bossy leader self are both akin to Xyrida’s “dramatic heroine caught in a Shakespearean tragedy” persona that she’s created for herself (and partially become out of habit). Knight stretches Xyrida to her absolute breaking point, because not only does she have to go out and do things, she has to save people?! The idea of watching someone get hurt because she did not act would shatter her, but her own tendencies would make that an inevitability. Hence, Knight of Heart- the Heroine gets on her own damn horse, dons a set of armor, and saves her friends herself. (Even if she’s terrified the whole time).

God I’m so conflicted here TOO. I think… Knight might be the way to go. She has such a limited self perception that she needs to develop that potential and learn to utilize her passion and confidence and true identity instead of being so afraid. It definitely flips the sort of dramatic heroine/damsel in distress common narrative on its head and turns her into her own hero, the resolver of her own conflicts. The inverse is Rogue of Mind, which also means she’d have to learn to passively reallocate action and would likely be Required to take a lot of decisions and thought and Active Movement on herself for the benefit of the team.

Land: The Land of Rope and Screams

Xyrida walks out of her hive reluctantly, and finds herself in something straight out of a horror movie. Her hive’s been placed somewhere at the top of a mountain, the sky is an endless black-brown haze, and the wind whips by her so fast she fears she will fall. It’s only then that she realizes that this is no ordinary wind, but the screams of… something far down below. The only way around her planet are very rickety wood-and-rope bridges stretched between vast spaces between mountains, sometimes a sharp inclines. The only way she survive is to take a leap of faith and head downward, with little hope of making it back up. Hopefully she figures out who or what is in such distress, and get them to stop screaming.

Oh this is really good and terrifying and plays right into the idea of her needing to learn to be a hero for herself and others instead of just sitting up in her home passively.

Dream Planet: Prospit

Given that the trolls share the same symbol, and symbol alignment is linked to Dream Selves, then both Poales girls would be Prospit Dreamers. Despite her obsession with a heretical cult of dissidents, Xyrida doesn’t share any of their moral strife or conviction- she is exactly as who she says she is, a lover of history and tragedy.

I think prospit definitely fits, too. She’s Very interested in destiny and following the flow of it, which does seem important to prospit dreamers.

Design time!:

Horns: I gave her the same pronged horn as Kamala, but I had to add a hook for jade themed.

Hair: I am ashamed to admit I based her bangs loosely off of Yuki Cross, because she’s such a dramatic vampire protagonist caught in romantic turmoil of the worst kind. The top part of her hair is meant to look a bit like Kamala’s. I did keep the braid, though I kind of want it to be shaped more like a heart in the back than a simple fishtail braid.

Eyes: I did something I don’t usually do and gave her downward facing eyelashes. It gives her a sort of sleepy and demure look I can imagine in a romantic tragedy heroine. They’re still shaped somewhat like a lotus petal, though.

Mouth: For similar reasons, I gave her lips that are somewhat heart-shaped. With nice tiny fangs.

Cape: I based the bottom fringe loosely off of one of fan-troll’s dresses. I wanted to make sure it looked flowy and loose, like it was made of silk and could be easily flapped around. Complete with nice jade inlining.

Shirt & Pants: I decided to keep them relatively plain and dark, for the mystique.

Symbol: I kept the base of Hi’iaka, but edited the outer curves into the looping fish shapes we see in a lot of Jade signs. I also turned the circles into smaller loops that hook on the straight line. The added bonus is that the reflected symbols are reminiscent of the Sufferer’s rotational motif.

Shoes: They’re really super simple, too, but I based them off of the Disciple’s really simple shoes, so that’s fun.

Thank you so much for sharing her!

-CD

#persephoneanmystery #xyrida poales #xyrida #poales #jadeblood #review #redesign #cd review #submission

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