#drifter/chipper
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<3
#holistichiatus#warframe#warframe spoilers#drifter tamm#drifter/chipper#drifter tamm/chipper to sooth my soul#i needed this
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constellations in the dark (3930 words) by Winchesterek
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Kira Yukimura, Erica Reyes
Additional Tags: Derek Hale & Kira Yukimura Friendship, Erica Reyes & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Deputy Stiles Stilinski, Getting Together, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers
Summary:
After 10 years, Stiles and Derek see each other in Beacon Hills again.
Also for @sterekbingo, @sterekweekly, @sterekmonthly
The last thing that Stiles thought he’d be on Valentine’s Day was alone. Of course, Lydia managed to get a date which meant their best friend night celebrating unattached drifters Christmas that they didn't participate in fell through. He sighed and glanced at his phone, where the usual texts from his friends littered his notifications. Really, he didn't need their pity. All of his friends either were in a relationship or they had dates.
Stiles closed out of his notifications and ran his hands over his face. All he wanted to do was veg out and eat and watch sappy movies, which meant that he probably shouldn’t. He reluctantly got off the couch and changed into normal clothes, then grabbed his cell phone, keys, and wallet before heading out.
He may not have a date, but coffee sounded pretty good right now. Living in downtown Beacon Hills had its perks. One of them was that Stiles didn't need to drive everywhere. Not that he didn't love his Jeep, he did, but with how much it cost to fill his tank these days he could go for a walk instead. Using it to go to and from work was about as much as he used it now.
Stiles walked a couple of blocks to the little coffee shop he frequented and opened the door, the bell tinkling as he walked inside. He ordered his usual, a honey almond milk flat white, which he refused to tell anyone about, and then heard a squeal behind him. Stiles sighed and closed his eyes.
”Stiles!” came the chipper voice. “Oh my god!”
The last thing that Stiles wanted to deal with right now was enthusiastic positivity. No matter how much he loved Kira.
He turned around and smiled at her as she threw herself into his arms and hugged him. “Hey, Kira. How’s it been?”
”Oh, you know. I’ve just been traveling. I’m here visiting my parents. It’s been so long!” Stiles forgot how pretty she was. It had been years since he’d seen her in person, but they followed each other on social media so he knew all about her travels.
Stiles had really been the only one who came back to Beacon Hills after he’d graduated college. Then again, he couldn't say he hated his job down at the police station. He was a deputy, but he was pretty sure he would be a shoo-in for Sheriff the next time the position was open. He just needed to throw his name into the hat for it.
Kira continued to chatter, which gave Stiles time to think about what exactly he was going to say to her. Not that he was really listening to what she was saying anymore as his mind drifted. Before he could form a response, a familiar figure walked up behind Kira.
Dark hair, broad shoulders, and a thick beard paired with kaleidoscope eyes that were exactly how Stiles remembered them. Although, Derek had a little bit of gray in his beard now.
”Derek,” Stiles said, unsure if he could control his surprise. Derek looked just as shocked as Stiles felt.
“Stiles,” was Derek’s short response. They locked eyes and Stiles had so many questions, like he always did when it came to Derek. How was he? Where had he been for the last ten years? Because it had been at least ten years since he’d seen Derek when he left for college.
Stiles was 28 now. Derek was almost 34, since his birthday was at the end of the year on Christmas Day. And he felt like he was 17 all over again, with his chest tight and his heart squeezing with unshared emotions. After all, Stiles had fallen in love with Derek that summer they spent together looking for Erica and Boyd, when he tried to help him look for the Alpha pack. Then they’d saved their lives. It was a summer that Stiles would never forget.
It felt like so long ago and only yesterday at the same time.
”I—uh, how have you been?” Stiles asked, clearing his voice.
”Good.” Derek nodded, pushing his hands into his leather jacket. “Traveling.”
Oh. So, then, he was traveling with Kira? Stiles looked between the two and Kira gave Stiles a sheepish look. They couldn't possibly be dating, could they? Stiles frowned in response, then raised his hand to rub it over his face. Hopefully to wipe the look off he was sure was still fighting for purchase. One of jealousy and confusion and pain.
Stiles dropped his hand to his side and heard his name called at the counter for his coffee. He breathed deeply and glanced at the barista, then back at Kira and Derek. “Well, it was good seeing you two. My coffee is ready.”
”Wait—Stiles. We should get together sometime this week. I’ll be here for a few days,” Kira said as he stepped backward.
”Yeah, sure. Text me.”
Both of them knew that they’d never hang out again this week, much less text each other. It was a pattern all of his friends he didn't keep in contact with on a daily basis had. The promise of more, with none of the follow through.
At that, Stiles retreated and grabbed his coffee, then fled as quickly as he could. The last thing he wanted Derek to see was how much seeing him had affected him.
***
Stiles stared at his phone and clicked on his contacts. The only person he wanted to call right now was Lydia, because he wanted to tell her about Derek, but she wouldn’t have the answers that he needed. He sighed and scrolled through his contacts, landing on the only name that would know all the details from the last ten years. They didn't talk often, but they were still friends. Erica was just really busy working and making bank. Stiles couldn't blame her though. She had moved to New York shortly after graduating from BHHS.
He poked her name with his finger on the screen and tapped the speaker button.
“Stiles?” Erica’s sharp voice answered. “Is the world ending again?”
Stiles laughed. Of course. He couldn't really blame her since life in Beacon Hills was basically one disaster after another. Erica’s life had been pretty calm once she got out of this hell hole.
“Uh, no. Well, not for the world, anyway. Now my personal life, there could be an argument made there,” he replied with a chuckle.
”Well that was a disaster before we graduated high school and hasn’t really made a comeback since.” Erica snickered and he could hear the sound of a keyboard clacking across the line.
Well, she wasn't wrong. Stiles had never really dated anyone since his and Lydia’s romantic relationship had fallen apart, despite them remaining best friends.
”And that is by design,” Stiles replied, joking, but really, it probably was. He hadn’t really cared to date anyone after he’d tried so hard to be in love with Lydia more than just being best friends when he was really in love with Derek. Something that he’d told himself he’d never confess. But he’d told Lydia, which was why they’d broken up.
”Sure,” Erica replied with another laugh. “You keep telling yourself that.”
”Why are we even friends?” Stiles asked, sounding overly offended.
”Because I’m the only one that tells you how it is.”
Stiles thought about and that was a fair assumption.
”Which is why I called you in the first place.” Stiles paused, fingering the hem of his jeans. “So…I—uh, ran into Kira and Derek in town.”
Erica didn't respond, but the clacking on the other end stopped.
”In Beacon Hills?” She finally asked.
”Yeah…where the hell else would I be?” Stiles asked with a little bite in his voice.
”I wasn't sure if you’d finally decided to take that trip to Italy we talked about a few years ago. Sue me.”
Stiles sighed. “I’m sorry…I guess I’m just a little surprised and well, frustrated with the whole thing. I mean, he showed up with Kira so I was wondering—“
Erica barked a laugh. “Don't tell me you’re letting your mind overwork itself over that. Please, they’re just friends. You really think Kira would put up with Derek’s moody ass?”
”Maybe?” Stiles didn't really know what their relationship was, which was why he was calling Erica to find out. “I guess I thought—“
”No. They’re not dating. They never have and they never will. I mean, Derek’s kinda over the whole chick thing. I can’t remember the last time he even hooked up with a woman…or anyone, actually. He’s been celibate for a long time. With his relationship record, who could blame him?”
Erica did have a point. Derek had the worst luck when it came to relationships. At least the ones that Stiles knew about.
He hated that he felt relieved over Erica’s confirmation that Derek hadn’t dated anyone in a long time, though. Then again, if he’d decided to swear off people altogether, Stiles didn't have a chance. But did he really ever have one?
”Thanks, Erica.”
”No problem. I have to run, though. Text me”!
Before Stiles could reply, Erica disconnected, leaving Stiles in silence.
At least he knew Derek wasn't dating anyone now.
***
Derek’s phone buzzed and he frowned, pulling out of his pocket and staring at the notification.
There was a text message from Stiles.
Stiles.
Stiles who he hadn’t seen since he’d left for the academy. Derek thought Stiles had left Beacon Hills behind forever, but he guessed he’d been wrong about that. Stiles was the last person Derek ever thought he’d run into again. Especially here.
He’d kept track of Stiles for a few years when he’d been in Virginia, but after a while, it only hurt him because he didn't talk to Stiles. So, Derek decided he’d focus on himself instead. He’d finally worked on healing after all these years, traveling and finding himself again. Reinventing himself, mostly, and deciding what his life would be like without Beacon Hills and his family.
He was largely an Omega now, his pack having gone their own ways and living their lives, but he was happy for them and their success. What mattered was that they were alive to do so. That was the only thing that mattered to Derek.
He drew in a deep breath and opened the message. Derek stared at it, confused. All it said was Hey.
He frowned and tried to read into it, but he had no idea what hey meant.
He sighed and typed hi back. Three little dots came up on the screen and he waited. They stopped. Then started again, then stopped. Derek glared at the wiggling dots when they came up again, willing Stiles to just send the damn text already.
As if on cue, Stiles replied: Wanna meet up?
Stiles wanted to meet up. To talk? To….what?
“Hey,” Kira said as she walked into the room, looking comfortable in her pajamas as she sat across from Derek on the other couch. “Your face is speaking.”
Derek glared at her with his grumpy eyebrows and sighed. “Stiles texted me.”
”Oh?” Kira looked interested, as if she’d expected Stiles to text her instead of Derek. “What did he say?”
”He said he wants to meet up.” Derek stared at the message, not having responded yet.
Kira was quiet for a moment, watching Derek. “So…are you going to meet up with him?”
Derek wasn't sure how to answer that question. He wanted to meet up with Stiles, but he wasn't sure how well he’d take it, especially if Stiles just wanted to actually chat and hang out. Derek refused to let anyone other than Kira know that he held a flame for Stiles for so long. Since that summer they’d spent together looking for Erica and Boyd.
If he were honest with himself, he’d had feelings for Stiles before then, but he hadn’t really realized them until he’d spent all summer with Stiles. Not only had they researched and looked for his pack, but they’d hung out and watched movies…they did things that friends and couples did. Things that Derek had never really done in any relationship he’d had before, or after, then.
But Stiles had been seventeen. There was no way that Derek would let Stiles know he had feelings for him. He didn't want to take advantage of him. Plus, he doubted Stiles had more than brief horny-teenage-boy feelings for him anyway. After all, he’d ended up dating his cousin and Lydia at one point.
”I don't know…” he finally answered Kira.
Kira paused before she said, “I think you should. Even if it’s just for closure…”
Derek glanced at her and then back at the phone before taking a deep breath and texting Stiles back.
Derek: Meet you at our spot in the preserve?
Their spot. He wondered if Stiles would remember.
Stiles: When?
Derek: Two hours.
Stiles: I’ll be there.
“I guess I’m meeting him in two hours…” Derek locked his phone and shoved it back into his pocket.
He might as well go there now before he decided against seeing Stiles again. Alone this time.
“I’ll see you later,” he told Kira before standing and heading out of their hotel room before she could say anything.
***
Stiles rubbed his hands together as the chilly weather made his fingertips cold. He wasn't even sure why he asked to meet Derek, other than he wanted to look into his eyes one last time in case he never saw him again.
He really hoped that never happened. Stiles wanted so much more than one last meeting before Derek disappeared back to wherever he’d come from.
Stiles could barely see as he walked through the preserve to the lookout point he and Derek frequented that one summer together. It had to be the spot Derek was talking about, because he sure wasn't talking about the old Hale house.
When he reached the spot, he could feel Derek before he could see him. That familiar warmth Derek always gave him and the hairs on the back of his neck standing as if his body knew a predator was watching him.
“I wasn't sure you’d come,” Stiles said as Derek stepped from the shadows.
“I wasn't sure I was showing up either, so I’ve been here for a couple of hours,” Derek admitted. “I’m already here so I might as well stay.”
Stiles chuckled. “Valid argument.”
He looked Derek over slowly, studying the lethal lines of his body, the broad set of his shoulders, how Derek held himself confidently, and that little speck of gray in his beard that Stiles was a little obsessed with.
“So…” Derek started, shoving his hands into his pockets.
“Well, I thought maybe we could get a coffee, but we’re a little far out for that right now,” Stiles teased. He couldn't help himself. It was his default in most situations.
“Well…there could always be a next time.” The way Derek said it was hesitant and unsure, but it sent a flutter through Stiles’ chest at the potential for more.
“I thought you were traveling?” Stiles asked, kicking himself for not just saying yes, whatever Derek wanted was what he’d do.
“I could…stay, for a bit. I don't have any immediate plans,” Derek assured him, his eyes locking with Stiles’.
“Kira?”
“She can travel alone for a bit. We don't always travel together. We just met up in France because we were both there at the same time.” Derek shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Oh.” Well, that wasn't something Stiles really expected to hear. One, that Derek and Kira didn't travel together all the time, and two, Derek offering to stay. For him.
“I mean—I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.” Stiles stepped closer, taking a steadying breath. “I was hoping…we could see more of each other. At least, until you decide to leave again.”
Derek was quiet as Stiles closed the space between them and he stood in front of Derek, a mere few inches separating their bodies.
“Okay…” Derek replied with a nod.
“Okay…” Stiles said with a smile. “So… constellations?” His smile grew as Derek’s did and he chuckled as Derek nodded.
They both walked to the ledge and sat together on a large rock, staring up into the night sky. They looked for constellations, pointing them out and naming them, their voices but a whisper in the darkness.
Stiles knew he’d stay here forever if Derek let him. If Derek wanted him. He knew he’d do anything to keep him just the same.
***
Stiles smiled at his phone, checking his messages and chuckling at the memes Derek sent him. It was a thing they’d started during the last month of Derek’s extended stay in Beacon Hills. Stiles pushed his phone into his pocket and focused on the files in front of him.
Minutes became hours and before Stiles knew it, there was a knock on his door. He looked up to see Derek there, which made his heart skip a beat. It was the first time Derek had come to the station to see him at work and the first time Derek would see him in his deputy uniform.
“Derek.” He put the folder in his hand down and smiled.
“I thought it would be a nice surprise to show up at the end of your shift and take you out to eat,” Derek replied where he was leaning against the doorframe. Stiles’ eyes traveled over Derek’s body from head to toe, knowing that Derek could hear his heart flutter.
“I could eat.” Stiles grinned and pushed away from his desk before standing and stretching, turning to face Derek. “But, I was actually hoping we could stay in. I—uh, bought some stuff so we could make dinner together. How does that sound?”
“I’m up for whatever you want to do, as long as there is food,” Derek replied with a chuckle. “So, what are we making?”
“I thought we could make homemade pizza.” Stiles grabbed his jacket and shrugged it on.
“I don't think I’ve ever had homemade pizza…” Derek looked at him dubiously and Stiles laughed.
“Well, it’s taken me a long time to learn how to throw the dough. I’m pretty good at it now, but there were plenty of disasters and plenty of sacrifices made for that skill.” When Derek smiled, it reached his eyes and Stiles wanted to kiss him stupidly when he looked like that. He managed to refrain as he walked up to Derek, who was still leaning against the doorframe.
The faint hint of sandalwood and earth filled Stiles’ lungs. A scent that was uniquely Derek which Stiles longed for the more Derek was away from him. “So, you ready to head home for some homemade pizza?”
“I’m going wherever you’re going,” Derek said softly, not moving away as Stiles stayed in his space. It made Stiles’ heart flutter, even though he knew it was only his home and not their home. But Derek never corrected him.
After a few more moments, Derek added, “After you,” and reluctantly stepped back to give Stiles room to walk through the doorway.
Stiles nodded, stepping through the threshold, and led the way out of the police station.
Right.
Pizza.
***
The night had been partially a hilarious disaster and a success at the same time. Stiles tried to teach Derek how to throw the pizza dough and they’d made a mess, but Stiles saved the night by making a pizza for them. He let Derek put the toppings on in the end since Derek lacked the coordination to throw a pizza crust.
It had entertained Stiles more than it should have. He smiled as he sipped his wine. He didn't often indulge in it, but tonight was special. Or, at least, that had been Stiles’ plan.
“So…what did you think?” he asked, setting his glass on the counter and leaning back against it.
“I think your pizza was amazing. Much better than the one I didn't make.” Derek laughed. “Please tell no one.”
“Oh, that’s blackmail material for years to come,” Stiles teased, laughing as Derek walked closer and set his wine glass next to his, causing Derek to lean into Stiles’ space. Stiles reached out to grip Derek’s jacket, letting his fingers run along the zipper, keeping Derek close to him.
Derek didn't speak. If anything, it looked like he was holding his breath as much as Stiles was. This was it. This was the moment. It was either happening now or never again.
Stiles let his hand drop from Derek’s jacket, but only to press against his shirt over his abdomen. His breaths came shallower as his eyes met Derek’s and before Stiles could say anything, Derek was leaning in and closing the space between them.
Stiles melted when Derek’s lips pressed against his, one of Stiles’ hands moving to grip the back of Derek’s neck as Derek’s hands found Stiles’ hips. He moaned as he licked into Derek’s mouth, their tongues tangling together. It made Stiles’ skin burn for more, even as they broke from the kiss to breathe and Stiles leaned his forehead against Derek’s.
“Stiles—”
“Don't—” Stiles said softly. “I know you’ll eventually leave, but you’re here now… so be here with me,” he whispered against Derek’s lips. “Stay with me…”
Derek didn't say anything, kissing Stiles again instead. Stiles closed his eyes and breathed deeply as he wrapped his arms around Derek, lifting himself as he felt Derek’s hands on his ass and then the back of his thighs. He wrapped his legs around Derek, moaning softly against his lips.
“Bedroom is down the hall on the right,” Stiles breathed between kisses.
He kissed Derek’s neck and shoulder as Derek carried him to his bedroom, impressed that Derek managed to open the door without letting go of him too much.
Stiles laughed as they made it to the bed and Derek dumped him into it, pressing him against the mattress as Derek’s lips found Stiles’ again. His hands moved to push Derek’s jacket off, both of them letting it fall somewhere on the floor before Stiles’ hands moved under Derek’s shirt, fingers exploring.
“God, Stiles…I’ve—” Derek started, groaning softly as Stiles nipped his bottom lip. “You’re going to kill me.”
“No dying,” Stiles replied with a grin. “If it was my choice you’d be safe with me forever.”
Stiles’ stomach felt like it was twisted into knots at his confession as Derek’s kisses slowed and he pulled away just enough to meet Sties’ eyes.
“How long is forever?” Derek asked, as if he didn't believe Stiles.
Stiles cupped Derek’s face, smoothing his thumb over Derek’s bearded cheek. “However long you want it to be. I want you, here, with me. I know I should have said something sooner…years ago. I just—”
Derek’s hand moved to rest on Stiles’ against his face. “I know. Me too,” Derek assured him. “But I’ll stay as long as you want me…”
“I never want you to leave,” Stiles confessed, kissing Derek softly. “Please, Derek.”
“Then I won't,” Derek promised.
It had taken them ten years, but Stiles always felt like he was with Derek, searching for constellations in the dark. He’d been waiting, just as long as Derek had, for this moment.
And Stiles knew they’d never let each other go again.
#sterek#derek hale#teen wolf#stiles stilinski#eternalsterek#sterek au#derek x stiles#stiles x derek#derek/stiles#stiles/derek#sterek is eternal#sterekweekly#sterekmonthly#sterekbingo#mine#my fic#sterekexchangevday2024
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Activating the Veilbreaker quest will invite Kahl and Chipper to your Drifter camp! Chipper is where you’ll get Styanax with syndicate standing.
Plus Archon hunts will be added with a new way to upgrade Warframes. Archon hunts give you archon (or a chance for the better Tau-infused shard) which you can utilize the Helminth with to permanently upgrade a single Warframe. Removing a shard from a Warframe won’t destroy the shard!
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(Temporary) Character Masterlist
TENNO
Operator Kaine- Hot-headed and impulsive, Kaine was a Yuvan before becoming a Tenno. Hates amps, and typically rejects Tenno culture. Embraces the Void and all its horrors. Doesn't get along with his Drifter counterpart, Callan. Madurai.
Operator Rufus- Fearful and naïve, Rufus awoke from the Second Dream under unusual circumstances. He lacks a connection to the Tenno, and his Gauss is his closest friend. Vazarin.
Drifter Callan- A stubborn, anxious man. Callan is avoidant of his own problems, but will face others' head-on. Took on the role of a Tammherd while in Duviri. Sees himself as a guardian to his Operator counterpart, Kaine, but struggles with having a good relationship with him. Deals with chronic pain as the result of a run-in with a Void Angel. Strongly dislikes transference. Naramon.
WARFRAMES
Kaine's Volt- Standard Volt, sole warframe of Kaine's. He tends to work as a counterbalance to Kaine's impulsivity and powerful emotions. Doesn't remember much from before the Old War. Full of personality, but lacks independence from Kaine.
Callan's Oberon- Standard Oberon, helps Callan manage his void injury. Independent, but hollow. Met Callan during the New War after his Operator was killed.
Rufus' Gauss- Standard Gauss. An infestation scientist who formerly worked for Archemedian Silvana before becoming a warframe voluntarily. Rufus' caretaker. Fully independent and sapient. Spiteful towards Cephalon Anum for blackmailing her throughout the course of the Old War.
Radio (Octavia)- Octavia Prime. A chipper and energetic warframe safeguarding a Tenno who hasn't awoken from the Second Dream. She and her Tenno are somewhat co-conscious.
Sibir (Sevagoth)- Standard Sevagoth. A Tennoless warframe found deep under the surface of Deimos in a locked Isolation Vault. Seems to have a burning hatred for all things Entrati.
SOLARIS
Crux- Wannabe treasure hunter and archaeologist. Fascinated by Orokin treasures and junk. Defacto leader of a small group of Solaris ice miners in Neptune Proxima. Has an Eximus Shockwave MOA leg for an arm. Has a pet Kubrow pup named Auron.
Febe- Originally a Fortuna Solaris. A mother. Trying to pay off debt so her kids- wherever they are- don't have to carry that weight in their lifetimes. After a work accident, couldn't afford to get an arm replaced, so Crux shifted her to working in analytics, data, and shipping. Firm, but incredibly loving.
Lanthan- Crux's second-in-command for negotiations. Grounded and patient. They're insistent about hearing both sides of an argument. A skilled artist in their spare time. Has feelings for Copernius.
Copernius- A disgraced former Corpus Crewman, he became a Solaris as a form of punishment after his squadron failed to repel a Tenno attack. With a new name, and a (somewhat) new body, he seeks penance through his work. He's solitary, and doesn't get along with the other Solaris, or the Corpus, making him quite the outsider.
KAINE'S RAILJACK CREW
Cabu Fakk- Steel Meridian Defender, spiteful and aloof. Has so many problems, and takes a lot of time off because of it. Has a love-hate relationship with other Grineer, and her faction as a result. Ship's on-board Komi champion. Has a begrudging respect for Kaine and zero for Callan. Incredibly gay. Close to Maroo.
Log-Rec Avarke- Cephalon Suda Gunner. Oblivious and naive, but true to herself. Aromantic, in a relationship with Cabu. Not super interested in Railjacks, but knows lots of niche facts about aspects of it, and will tell you about them.
Gallo Hirtu- Perrin Sequence back-up Pilot. Autistic as all hell, special interest is coins and, to a lesser degree, metal. Obsessed with the history of the Corpus. Will infodump on helm to Cabu and Avarke. Avarke appreciates it, Cabu does not. Has a one-sided crush on Callan, but has complicated feelings about it as he sees Kaine like a little brother.
Rex Sonokiza- Hexis Defender. A nigh-elderly Arbiter who chose to pursue Railjack work instead of retirement. Seeking fulfilment in life by helping others. Distant from the other members of the crew.
OTHERS
Cephalon Anum- Gauss' Cephalon. Spiteful towards her for blackmailing them for centuries. Sarcastic, but genuinely cares for Rufus, even if they're resentful towards his warframe.
Velondis Hotarbu- Converted Kuva Lich. A doting aunt figure to Operator Kaine.
#shhh yes i'm missing the entire crew of the avisto#i will get to them Eventually (tm)#i need to figure more out about them- especially dahlia and amos#personal nonsense#warframe oc#i want to port this to a more accessible and customizable place eventually but I just Don't Have Time or Energy right now
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Mark Collection
Thanks to Home's SwSh Pokedex counter, I've decided to recollect the SwSh Pokedex as a Living Dex which means I have an opportunity to collect the Marks in the game! Marks give your Pokemon a title, and bypass shiny locks so some people will Mark Hunt Pokemon, instead of shiny hunting!
Serebii Link Here You can find marks under the Ribbons page on a Pokemon and they're only on Pokemon caught in the wild, not in raids.
The feature, and ribbons as a whole didn't return in Pokemon Legends Arceus*, so I wonder if they'll be in Scarlet and Violet or if they'll be cut like the Shiny Leaves or movie star status.
When I first played SwSh, I usually did raids online because they were a ton of fun but that meant I couldn't collect many marks. But now that I need to find Pokemon reliably, I can have better odds. Plus I have the mark charm now! I've got my checklist below the cut
Lunchtime Mark - Ralts the Peckish (Will be a Gardevoir)
Sleepy Time Mark - Wailord the Sleepy
Dusk Mark - Palpitoad the Dozy
Dawn Mark - Diggersby the Early Riser
Cloudy Mark - Grimmsnarl the Cloud Watcher
Rainy Mark - Barbaracle the Sodden
Stormy Mark - Chewtle the Thunderstruck
Snowy Mark - Snover the Snow Frolicker
Blizzard Mark - Delibird the Shivering
Dry Mark Gastly the Dry
Sandstorm Mark - Sudowoodo the Sandswept
Misty Mark - Ralts the Mist Drifter (Will be a Gallade)
Fishing Mark - Barraskewda the Catch of the Day
Curry Mark - (Authentic) Polteageist the Curry Connoisseur
Rare Mark Duskull the Recluse
Uncommon Mark - Phantump the Sociable
Rowdy Mark - Snover the Rowdy
Absent Minded Mark - Blipbug the Spacey
Jittery Mark - Sandygast the Anxious
Excited Mark - Morgrem the Giddy
Charismatic Mark - Hisuin Zoroark the Radiant
Calmness Mark
Intense Mark - (Galarian) Slowbro the Fiesty
Zoned-Out Mark - Zubat the Daydreamer
Joyful Mark - Lycanroc the Joyful
Angry Mark - Noivern the Furious
Smiley Mark
Teary Mark
Upbeat Mark - King Koopa the Chipper (Shiny Drednaw!)
Peeved Mark - Bounsweet the Grumpy
Intellectual Mark - Happiny the Scholar
Ferocious Mark - Slowpoke the Rampaging
Crafy Mark - Zubat the Opportunist
Scowling Mark - Nidoqueen the Stern
Kindly Mark
Flustered Mark - Wimpod the Easily Flustered
Pumped-Up Mark
Zero Energy Mark - Torkoal the Apathetic
Prideful Mark - Roggenrola the Arrogant
Unsure Mark - Toedscruel the Reluctanct
Humble Mark - Carkol the Humble
Thorny Mark - Ditto the Pompous
Vigor Mark - (Galarian) Slowking the Lively
Slump Mark
*Okay, there might be a secret ribbon in Pokemon Legends Arceus when you take a picture in the photo studio. The game adds data to the Pokemon file for a Pioneer Ribbon but no Gen VIII games support it so no one knows if it will become a ribbon or not.
#Pokemon#swsh#sword version#shield version#galar#mark hunting#shiny hunting#shiny hunters#drednaw#pokemon home#nintendo switch#polteageist#authentic
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@eternitycyber asked:
"Miss are you dead?Or is this your everyday routine by any chance?"
“Yes and no!” Was the rather chipper response as she wiped dust off herself. The other woman hadn’t seemed to have heard most of the exchange that happened, but probably caught enough to see her get knocked flat and the culprit fleeing.
But it was mostly the drifter's fault, given the quiet threats and blackmail she had been rather cheerfully explaining. It wasn’t worth getting irritated about now. “Dying? Daily occurrence, more or less. That, well... Maybe every other day, most people just walk away from a bad pickup line.”
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Sip of Snips 1/10: Hellish
I had to dig through my scrivener to find this. Hell doesn't exist in my original WIPs so they were all out. This is also not a word I ever use. I went 'no shot!' when a single doc and a single instance of the word came up. Hilarious.
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Savant used to be way more of a field Warlock. Sometimes coming with her on scouting assignments or she called him in when she needed a big explosion. She knew Savant didn’t appreciate how insane his Light generation was but she did. Because of that they used to spend a lot more time together. But between Gup and Savant spending years of his life playing Gambit to impress Drifter they just didn’t as much. Since he’d stopped playing Gambit it was better. Mostly he hated Crucible enough to take breaks from it and he could only suffer ogling Theo so much before he needed a break from that.
Which was why he’d showed up at her door way too fucking early with a small cup of coffee and said, ‘let’s go to Hunter’s Tree’. She’d blearily taken the coffee and only thanks to Ghostie had she gotten any clothes on to go with him.
Now they were in Hunter’s Tree waiting for Lily to deliver their drinks. Eric was in the booth side of the table while listening to Savant ramble on about Crucible stuff he’d learned from Theo. He was getting a lot better at Crucible. Still couldn’t kill anyone but at least he didn’t die instantly. She was only half listening. The other half was trying to stay awake. For regular people it was a normal time to get up, about eight, for Eric it was a hellish time. Her sleep schedule was erratic and unpredictable and she was tired a lot. She nodded along whenever Savant said something at least.
Lily, a pretty Awoken with moon white hair and skin came by with their drinks and food. “Please tell me it’s what I usually get?” Eric groaned quietly at Lily.
“Nope. Yarrow wanted to see how you liked this instead. Should still perk you right up,” Lily said brightly. Stupid ass Lily. She was a coffee addict like Eric except her not-girlfriend always made her whatever coffee she wanted so she was always annoyingly chipper. “It should taste better too.”
“Fine,” she sighed.
“And for you,” Lily put Savant’s absolutely not coffee in front of him. It looked like a milk shake. Then came an array of baked goods Savant had ordered.
“Thanks, Lily,” Savant said cheerfully.
“You’re both too cheerfully awake. Shut upppp,” Eric groaned.
Lily giggled, “She’ll be awake in a little bit,” Lily promised Savant with a smile and went off to go check on some other customers.
- The silver lining
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That One Time I Got Mugged
Bare with me.
I’ve been to a lot of places around the country, and a few international excursions. I’ve had amazing, mostly safe, uplifting experiences overall in my travels and longer term residences. I currently live in Dayton, Ohio… Of all the various places I’ve experienced, Dayton seems to be the only place that has ever had a personal problem with me.
I’ve had the worst experiences of my somewhat short life in Dayton, Ohio. However, if my life was some sort of streaming service original drama, my worst experiences make the best episodes. This is certainly one of those episodes.
It was winter. Deep Ohio Winter - fuckin ugly winter. Somehow everything is wet, but your skin dries out into cracks. Just dead Fargo-throw-me-in-a-tree-chipper G-d fuckin winter. hard, grey snow is sprayed all over the downtown Dayton area like some sort of frozen celestial ejaculate. There’s patches of ice, lying in wait, ready to ruin your day and bust your hips, knees, and ass right out their designated areas. Dayton is noticeably littered with varied sized graveyards filled with, I suspect, victims of the insufferable winters.
At this point in my life, I was shrinking my carbon footprint… by not having a car. So I would walk to and from work. My walk home was Often with an adult beverage or two to keep warm company. This particular period of my life was fraught with disharmony and dread, taking many different forms. I may or may not have had developed a common, though entirely unhealthy, coping mechanism during all this. They should really warn you about the addictive nature of alcohol, gee whiz.
The walk was not exactly a safe path, particularly when the elements add to the trail difficulty. So, I’m usually looking over my shoulder, while trying not to slip every five feet. However, on this seemingly ordinary Tuesday, two blocks from my house, I encountered a person “in need.” Had I not been under the influence, I may have spotted a few red flags at a more beneficial time.
“Heeey bro!” I heard from across the street. Being male and likely the ‘bro’ in question, I turned to address the voice. It belonged to a very skinny, scabby faced, 20 something Midwestern metropolis drifter. He had a big grey backpack, definitely not filled with school supplies. He was also sporting An oddly spotless white puffer coat, and one of those flappy beanies with the with the Double braids. His pants and shoes were covered in house paint, adding to the mystery of the pristine coat. He could be The spokesperson for loose cigarettes. I couldn’t see any skin, but I’d be willing to bet actual money he had an ICP Hatchetman tattoo somewhere on his body.
“You live around here?” He continued.
I’m not drunk, but I’m loose.
“Yeah man!” I answer.
“Cool, I’m looking for my boy, lil joker’s house. You know him?”
I am not on first name basis with any Lils at the moment, unfortunately. Which is what I should have said to the man, and continued walking. But that wouldn’t be a story.
“I can look up the address for you, bro!” I instead said as I then crossed the street towards the drifter. I whipped my phone out, excited to help a lost stranger - get a couple karma points.
“Thanks man, yo you got a dollar for the bus or a cigarette or something?”
I didn’t know the bus took cigarettes as fare - is what I should have said and continued walking to home.
“Nah, I don’t smoke and all I have is 20s.” I instead answered, still under the delusion I’m having a neighborly chat.
“Cool, Cool, so… you wanna buy some crystal then?”
Hm, that escalated quickly, I thought. Before I could say “Crystal what?” My bag was off my shoulder, my phone gets pimp-slapped into a pile of snow, and I have a small gun pointed at my face.
“Wallet! I’m takin yer shit, n****r!” The drifter yelled, with a sudden hick drawl.
You should probably know, both characters in this scene are in fact, Caucasian. I, a cis gendered, straight white American man, was called the full, hard R, n-word by another cis gendered, (assumably) straight, white American man. If you assumed the drifter was a black man, let that be your personal take away from this story and end your racist ways.
I’m stunned, so he just reaches into my back pocket and takes my wallet, pushing me into the street. He now has two backpacks on one arm, my wallet in one hand, little gun in the other, and a coat on that is definitely three sizes too big. He takes two steps back onto the sidewalk to count those 20s I generously mentioned earlier.
You don’t react in these types of situations how you ever hope you will. I would have liked to tell you that I disarmed the junkie, knocked his remaining teeth in, and reclaimed my items, John Wick style. Instead, still on my ass in the street, I squeak out: “can I just have my ID back? I like the picture on that one.”
We all want to be Ray Leotta, but usually end up Michael Cera.
In a fun twist, as the drifter shuffles backwards one more step, he slips on a patch of ice and gloriously eats the pavement. It couldn’t have been a more perfect fall had Johnny Knoxville written it (consider this my pitch for Jackass 5, Johnny). When he hits the ground, The gun goes off in an unknown direction, which silenced the part of me thinking it was unloaded or a toy. The two backpacks he was holding had twisted the fella around into a shitty yoga pose. From the ground, he turns his head to me and yells through actual tears: “don’t look at me! Don’t! Just - Just run, n****r!”
I graciously obliged, got up and ran home. There is no self defense class that could have possibly prepared one for the specifics of this scenario. I’ve checked. There is not a YouTube video about what to do when your attacker hurts themselves and starts crying, but still continues to use inaccurate racial slurs against you.
Of course, it was the best outcome of a mugging possible. Other than maybe not getting mugged. I made it out alive, uninjured, and experienced an enlightening hate crime simulation.
I still wonder if he was so high that he thought I was actually a black man. I also still wonder if he’s called the wrong person the n-word yet.
For the record, I don’t use this story as an excuse to sing n***a in rap songs. Though, I suppose the argument could be made that I’m using it in written form because those stars aren’t fooling you, you know what it says and you’re saying it to yourself as you read it - but again, that’s also on you as the reader.
I didn’t call the police. I didn’t want to further complicate an already over complicated situation, and my mind was having a hard time accepting what had just happened, actually happened. He was obviously in a desperate spot and the last thing we need is another poor soul entered into the penal system.
That, and he stole my phone.
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silly things my friends inspired :]
#warframe#drifter/chipper#holistichiatus#I'm extremely normal abt them i prommy#the first way makes more logistical sense but the second way can get the real makeout#drifter Tamm
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A Phoenix’s Flight Through the Mundane
(Characters are from this pantheon I built for @covenunited )
Phoenaden frowned. Had he known that mortals could be so dreadfully boring, he might not have made the decision all those centuries to continue to walk among them. His siblings were surely more comfortable watching and occasionally interfering from where they resided in their cushy personal extradimensional realms, as were those who had ascended to lesser god status. However unamused he was in this particular moment, though, the Flaming Lord of Death and Rebirth knew deep down that he could never join them in distancing himself from the mortal plane. The truth was that he loved it too much. He loved feeling the wind tussle his dark hair as the sun’s rays warmed his skin, smelling a myriad of different scents depending on what specific corner of the world he’d decided to explore, hearing heartbeats and bird calls and stories, and seeing how far people had come through the ages.
Today, he was in a sleepy little town in North Carolina, nestled nicely into the Blue Ridge Mountains. It was early morning. Early enough that the sun still had yet to rise, yet people were still slowly and quietly beginning to file into the small café he’d stopped to grab a cup of joe and a muffin from. It was all so mundane. The dull mutterings of people who had likely just woken up within the hour. The somewhat weak yet still somehow overly bitter coffee that nearly scalded his tongue. The bleary-eyed middle-aged waitress who looked like she would rather be anywhere else but was trying to keep up a kind smile for the sake of the patrons. The cook behind the bar with his overly sunny disposition and boisterous greeting of almost every customer by name. His own humanoid form that he wore to blend in with mortals and to keep from accidentally burning everything around him. So completely and utterly boring, and he had to admit that he enjoyed every bit of it.
It must have showed on his face because the waitress was quick to comment on it. “That’s a curious smile you got there, fella,” she quipped wryly, doing nothing to diminish his sense of contentment.
Instead he smiled more broadly up at the woman, who looked to be in her mid-forties and wishing she was still in her twenties. “I’m in a peachy keen mood on this fine morning, ma’am,” was his chipper reply, spoken in the same subtle southern drawl he’d adopted for this particular jaunt through the United States. It really wasn’t that far off from his natural voice; all he had to do was speak a bit slower and add a bit of a rural American twang.
His natural charm combined with the spark in his fiery blue eyes seemed to win the waitress over. She rolled her eyes and gave him an exasperated smirk. “Good for you, Sunshine. Wish that kind of optimism was contagious. You want me to top off that coffee for ya?” He shook his head, politely declining the offer. She seemed reluctant to leave, though, studying him intently. “So, where’re ya from, stranger? I know just about everyone in this town, and I’m certain that I’ve never seen your handsome face around here before.”
He gave a lighthearted chuckle at the thinly veiled compliment and took a sip of his now drinkably hot coffee before answering. “Aw, you flatter me! Yeah, I just rolled into town this morning. I’ve been on the road for a while, actually. Figured now would be as good a time as any to take a break.” Hopefully she wouldn’t notice that he’d deliberately avoided giving an actual answer to her question. He never quite knew what to tell someone in regards to where he was from.
Evidently, she managed to draw her own conclusions from his evasion. “So you’re a drifter?” The judgment in her tone was beyond palpable, but it didn’t bother him.
“Is that a bad thing?” he countered with a cheeky smirk, amused by the way her brow furrowed and her lips puckered in frustration. “I have the opportunity to get out on my own and explore the world around me, so I’m taking it.”
“Right, and does the intrepid young explorer have a name and a means of paying for his order, by chance?” And now came the jealousy, something he delighted much less in. Still, he maintained his smile and pulled out his wallet.
“Aiden,” he answered, gravitating to the mortal name he reached for most often. “Aiden Tod.” A little on the nose, to be sure, but he sincerely doubted that she knew the origin of his first name or the translation of his last, and even if she did, she’d never make the connection to what he was. “And just because I’ve been wandering doesn’t mean I’m doing so because of a lack of a choice. I do try to help people like that when I can, though. Makes more sense to me than treating them as lesser beings. They’re just trying to live, y’know?” The glare of the disgruntled waitress told him that his charm had finally worn off. Despite keeping his cool, he’d managed to ruffle her feathers. He considered that a testament to how badly she needed a break, and let out a sigh. “I guess I’ll go ahead and get my check since I’ve outstayed my welcome…” he paused briefly to read her name tag, “Denise. Oh, before I go, though, do you happen to know where I might be able to get a room? I think I’m gonna be in town for a decently long while, and I’d rather not sleep in my Mustang, if I can help it.”
His smile had turned a sort of sickly sweet now, and he knew before Denise spoke again that she saw right through it. “Sure,” she muttered, quickly adopting something of a customer service voice. “There’s a cheap motel right at the edge of town, or if you’re the really ritzy sort, the Asheville Lodge is right up the road. I’ll have that check right out.” She’d turned on her heel before he could utter a halfhearted ‘Thank you,’ and he didn’t know whether to feel relived or insulted.
He downed the remainder of his coffee in one go, taking solace in the barely tolerable heat that coursed down his gullet, then began to spread some butter on half of his as yet untouched blueberry muffin. The café had gone quiet, and he realized too late that several of the regular patrons had been listening in on their conversation. Ah, yes, the nosiness of small towns. How delightful. It was almost endearing, in a way, the mix of curiosity and protectiveness on display. Everybody knew everybody, and as unpleasant as Denise may have been, she had a whole crowd of people ready to back her if needed.
She came back just as he was finishing his sweet breakfast, carrying his receipt and a black pen that probably was almost out of ink, then walked off to serve someone else. He waited until he was sure she wasn’t looking before pulling out double the amount of cash he needed, signing his assumed name at the bottom of the ticket, and flipping it over to write a short note on the back. It read, ‘I’m sorry your morning isn’t going so well. Hope it gets better for you. Hang in there, and next time you get the chance to do something for yourself, don’t hesitate.’ He ended it with a little winking smiley face just for an added juvenile touch, and left it on the table with the money before quietly taking his leave. It was relatively easy to slip out of the café unnoticed, all things considered.
He thought about exploring the city further, tracing the lines of magic woven throughout it like a dense spiderweb, but he could feel fatigue beginning to overtake him. He’d been driving all day and night, after all, and this mortal body he’d trapped himself in so long ago still needed to rest and recover. He unlocked the jet black 1969 Ford Mustang, slid into the cherry red driver’s seat, and set out to find the lodge that Denise had mentioned. A nap sounded absolutely incredible right about now. Finding the Asheville Lodge was easy, as was booking a room for a few weeks. They weren’t quite so busy this early in the summer, as most students were still in school and not ready to take vacations yet. The receptionist very perkily told him that he’d arrived at the perfect time, and he had to agree with her. He might have even flirted with her a little bit if he wasn’t so eager to fall face first into a plush bed and pass out. As soon as he got up to his suite, that’s exactly what he did, drifting into an almost death-like slumber as soon as his head hit the pillow, despite the caffeine in his system. Exploration and flirtation could wait until later in the day.
#✒️do not step into the faerie circle🖋 fantasy#✒️picking up my quill🖋 my writing#covenunited#phoenaden
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The Mask he Wore: Part Two
The long empty Prowd manor suddenly has lights on inside. Everyone is whispering about the new master of the home and his plans for the decades long dead vineyard. Blythe has just gotten a job within the walls of this strange place, but she feels like she is being constantly watched.
Part One
Female Main Character x Male Monster
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A man moved into our town. This should not have been the news that it was, except for the fact he came with very little notice. He bought the old winemaker’s manor along with its vineyard. The place had been abandoned for years as the previous owners had lost everything during the drought. It would have sold long ago had they not killed themselves inside those walls. The man who moved in did not seem to mind such things.
What alerted us to his arrival was not his entrance into town, in fact that seemed to go unnoticed. No one could recall having seen anyone come through the gates, or up to the manor itself. Instead it was a light in one of the windows. It shone like a star amongst the sky, flickering and glowing brighter the longer it was looked upon. Rumors began spreading as quickly as a fire would. Soon, it was all anyone could talk about.
I heard many ideas and whispers about who could have possibly moved into that old place. Some said it was the ghost of the previous family who reawakened now that the drought had ended. Some said it was drifters who came in and were now squatting on the abandoned property. Many tales came from wagging tongues, yet no one had an answer as to why there was a light in the manor every night.
Several days passed before there was an answer, and it came in the form of a decree looking for staff to fill the manor. It was then we knew someone had moved in and bought the place. His name was written out upon that decree as Edmund Prowd.
“Prowd, isn’t that the name of the family who was there before?” My father asked. “Perhaps it’s a distant relative.”
“Perhaps he’s come to claim his inheritance now that it shows signs of promise and fortune again.” My mother replied with a chipper tone.
“I doubt there is any money there now,” my father scoffed. “There’s too much darkness there. Too much blood on the ground. No one is going to want to buy wine from such a cursed place.”
My mother laughed. “How would you know?”
“You can feel it when you pass by that property, don’t lie to me and tell me that place doesn’t vegive you chills.” My father looked up as I came to the table. He went silent as I sat down.
“What is it?” I asked. “Why go quiet now?”
“It isn’t proper for a young lady to hear,” he grumbled.
My mother rolled her eyes. “There may be blood in the ground at that place, but tell me what ground hasn’t had blood spilt upon it!”
“The girl!” My father hissed.
“The dead stay dead,” my mother tutted. “There is nothing cursed about that place. Believing in such things is the real curse. The only foul happenings up in that manor are the young folk who sneak up there to fornicate in secret!”
“The girl!” My father shouted.
I believed my mother over my father. For one, I knew she was right when she said the young folk went to the manor. I had gone a few times myself. And while the abandoned manor was creepy, I would not call it cursed.
Despite people like my father and their fear of the manor, there were others who went to Prowd for a position. Although some were going out of sheer curiosity. I had not talked to many who had been to the place, but as always I heard stories through others who had heard tales about it. They said the place was full now, as if Prowd had lived there for years.
I was curious, how could I not be? But I was used to keeping my head down. This place had no effect on me, there was no reason for me to be concerned with it. And yet, the allure of this mysterious man crept into my thoughts. I had known most of the men in this town since I was small, none of them held any intrigue for me. This stranger, with all these rumors surrounding him, was very appealing. I did not know him, nor did I know anything at all about him, so my mind was free to wonder. I could daydream about his complexion, about the feeling of his hands upon me, and the way he spoke to me without being encumbered by reality.
In my mind he remained in shadows, only that single light to illuminate the dark room, its light only falling upon me. From darkness he would reach out, removing my clothes in such haste. Sometimes he had claws and fur on his hands like a beast, other times they were misshapen and long to suit my imagination. But his voice was always the same, deep and rich with a slight hoarse snarl at the back of his throat. It would whisper to me, commanding me, and I loved to obey it. In my head I let him do unspeakable things to me, so long as I never saw him. It created a deep lust within me, one I knew that I couldn’t satisfy alone. I grew wet with the very idea of him slipping a blindfold around my eyes and I would force my mind to quit while it could.
All of this was purely mine, Edmund Prowd was simply an imaginary friend who kept me company in the dark. That was until my father became ill. He had to stop working and was confined to bed with my mother taking care of him. I was the eldest child, and since my family had no male heirs left, it was my responsibility to look for a job. That was when I turned to Prowd.
I was hired right away, given a position as soon as I walked through the door. There was already a small staff there, mostly women who, like me, had no other choice in the matter. Since the staff was so small, I was trained to be prepared for anything and was expected to change on a whim. I was given a room which was meant to be shared, but due to the lack of staff, I had the room alone until more came.
I was given a uniform to wear each day. It was blood red in color while the apron and hat were pitch black. I felt like a garrish drop of blood spilled amongst the halls as I walked through them. Walking with some of the other girls, I likened us to blood pumping through the veins, leading to the heart which was the manor itself.
I did not see nor even hear speak of Prowd my first few days in the manor. For a moment, I forgot about him completely. But then there came a day when I was by myself in the parlor. That day it was my job to clean the hearths on the ground floor, sweeping away the ashes and carrying them to a wheelbarrow which, once filled, would be used in the vineyard. While the weather was still warm, the hearths needed to be cleaned and prepped, and then the chimneys would be swept and freed of unwanted guests and creosote. All of this is to say I was busy and inattentive of my surroundings.
I stood up from the hearth, balancing myself upon the cool marble as my knees felt shaky from so much kneeling. When I turned myself back into the room, I saw him. I gasped and held it within my chest which I clutched as well. He stood there behind the sofa, his hands upon the back, and his shoulders stooped forward. But it was not his presence that alarmed me. Had he just been a person standing there, I wouldn’t have reacted so. But I believe his appearance would alarm anyone as his head was wrapped in a bright red scarf. The scarf bubbled around his head then coiled and swooped around his neck like a snake.
“Did I frighten you?” He laughed as he stood, stroking his hand around his neck where the scarf wrapped.
“I’m sorry.” I could barely get my voice to rise above a whisper. I bowed my head down. “I did not expect someone to be watching me.”
He walked around the sofa, displaying more grace in his body than I had ever seen from a human. He moved like an animal, not to say in a violent or strange way. More as though he knew where he belonged, he knew how to move without being bothered by the thought of existing.
“What is your name?” Prowd came before me and I pressed my back further into the cold marble. It felt rigid against my spine, and the chill spread through my limbs while my face remained hot.
“Blythe, sir.” I bowed my head to him and his gloved hand reached out to me. His fingers slipped under my chin, propping my head back up to look at him. I could see the shape of his head through the scarf, but there was not much else. His fingers felt strong as he held my chin, and he made me feel so small in comparison.
“I once knew a woman by that name.” He murmured this so low and so gently, I thought perhaps he may have loved her once. “That was a long time ago. Hearing it again…” He drifted off and I was uncertain where he meant to go.
“Sir?”
Prowd’s head tilted to the side and I heard him breathe low. “Don’t be afraid of me, Blythe. I only meant to watch you.” His fingers slipped away then curled around his neck again.
“Look at me.” It was that command that made me stand frozen, but turn my eyes so willingly to him. It was that voice, that slightly hoarse sound that had me obey while a drop of dew formed in my loins. It was just like my imaginary version of him. I held his gaze, at least I assumed I did, and I waited for his next command.
I averted my eyes. “I am sorry, sir.”
“There’s no reason to apologize. What is your job today?”
I swallowed and caught my breath again. “I have to clean the hearths for the chimney sweeps, sir. And I am to take the ash outside so it can be scattered through the vineyard.”
Prowd took a seat and turned his attention back to me. “Just you? There are several hearths on the ground floor alone.”
“There aren’t many of us, sir.” That first stirring in my loins wasn’t going away. All my daydreams and fantasies about this man came to play, ones I thought would vanish as soon as I met him and he became real. But because of the scarf around his head and the fact none of his skin showed, my fantasy remained intact.
“I know. I had hoped to fill this place, bring some life back into it.” He tilted his head to the side as his fingers tightened around his neck. “And yet, my home still feels lonely.”
I looked him up and down, trying to picture him in a way that grounded him in reality. Yet my mind still turned to fantasy, as his mouth held sharp teeth and tusks, his hands were rough and hairy once he removed the gloves. I wanted those vicious teeth upon my skin while his hands found me wet and willing.
“It is a beautiful home.” I instantly regretted my words as they sounded lame upon my tongue. “I did not expect it to be so inviting when I first arrived.” This was partially a lie, I had been frightened arriving, but the staff had been warm and inviting. The home held a dark edge with its decor, but it had softened over the days.
“Thank you, Blythe.” I bit my lip as he said my name with that husky voice.
I started to go back to cleaning but I looked back at Prowd. “Is there anything I can do for you before I get back to work?” I asked hopefully, not to escape my chore, but if only to have him offer me a command. “A drink perhaps?”
A soft moan escaped his lips. “I would hate to disturb you.”
“I work for you,” I breathed. “It will not bother me should you need anything.”
Prowd’s hand slowly came down from his throat and landed upon his thigh. “Come here,” he murmured. “Come close to me.”
I kept my smile small as I approached him. I stood before him and his hand rose as an offering. I took it and he pulled me down to sit upon his lap. He then held me in his strong arms, placing his head upon my shoulder. His embrace tightened and there was not an inch of me that was not touching him. It felt strange at first, unexpected and a touch uncomfortable. But then I put my arms around him, holding him in return. He moaned again and a trill of excitement washed through my body. He felt so strong and warm my imagination was going wild.
Prowd did not hold me as long as I had hoped. He let go of me all too soon and pushed me aside onto the couch. He told me a simple thank you and left. Although this would not be the first of these encounters.
A few days later, I had been given the task of dusting in the library. I was alone there, going around and dusting the spines and tops of the books. It was boring, so I had hoped for something to happen to break up the mundanity of this process. First I felt his fingers at the back of my neck, brushing my hair aside as I faced the wall of books.
“Don’t move,” he beckoned. His voice was so close to my ear I could almost feel his breath. I obeyed him happily, biting my lip as I felt his body move behind me.
I placed the book I was dusting back upon the shelf. “Yes, sir.”
“Stand right there,” he breathed. His fingers captured a loose lock of hair that had fallen from the bun tucked under my cap. “I promise, I won’t do anything to you.” I heard an intake of breath, as if he were smelling my hair.
I hated how much I enjoyed it. “I’m fine, sir.”
An arm wrapped around my waist and my back touched his chest. “Put your hands on the shelf,” he commanded. I willfully and happily obeyed. “Good.” His hand squeezed the side of my waist. “Stay like that.” His other arm wrapped around me and I felt his face press against my back.
“Are you alright, sir?” I asked.
“I'm trying to remember.” He spoke against my shoulder. “Just stay still. Don’t look back.”
I bit my lip, tensing at the feeling of pleasure that rippled through my body. Yet I felt cold as well, a chill that bled through the air and tainted the joints of my fingers.
Once he left, I caught my breath and tried to return to work. But after such an experience it was difficult. I was heading back when I caught sight of something in the corner of my eye. I thought I saw a woman in the looking glass above the fireplace. It looked as if a woman in a red gown was right beside me. When I looked directly into the mirror, I only saw myself. But from the corner of my eye, I saw her. She stood beside me, her hand around my waist. I walked quickly from the room as I began to feel her hand even though there was nothing there.
That evening, I was in bed alone. The room was empty and cold, and I began to dream of having Prowd there with me. His warm, heavy body laying on top of mine, his gloved hand sneaking up my clothes. I smiled until I felt something upon my leg. Looking down, I saw a shadow at the foot of the bed. I sat up with a slight smile.
“Is that you?” I asked excitedly.
The hand moved up and the figure came closer.
“What do you want me to do, sir?” I asked eagerly.
The hand wrapped around my throat, forcing me down upon the bed and choking me. I grabbed at the arm, clawing at the flesh. My fingers sunk in far too easily. Fresh, damp earth fell from the arm, and if the hand was not choking me, I would have screamed.
The second hand joined it, coming down upon my throat and shaking me. I choked and wheezed, still clawing at the arm. I then heard the scream of a woman, perhaps it was my soul leaving my body, and the hands left me. I laid there, trying to breathe, crying and wiped the wet earth from my face.
When I woke in the morning I saw muddy footprints coming into my room, but none beyond the door. My voice was hoarse the rest of the day, but I feared speaking aloud my nightmare to anyone else. All I wanted was to see Prowd.
I did not have to wait long, as he found me while I was sweeping the foyer. He pulled me back into the parlor, hugging me tight for longer than before. Each day he held me, embracing me with more passion each time. I imagined that he loved me, that he needed me.
At night, though, I felt as if someone was watching me from the shadows in my room. I could feel their breath in the air, and I would lay awake trying to find them. Sometimes, there was a heavy presence there, as if there was more than one. I tried to convince myself it was all in my mind, that my last nightmare affected me. But no matter how much I talked myself down, there were still those eyes upon me.
I was outside fetching water one afternoon and when I turned, I saw Prowd standing at one of the windows on the third floor. I had never been up to the third floor before, none of us were allowed. Prowd was looking down upon me and I knew he was beckoning me. I followed his silent command, going up the stairs when no one was watching me. At the top, he stood there waiting.
“Is something the matter, sir?” I was breathless not just from the climb, but also from my own anticipation. Prowd silently extended his gloved hand to me and, when I took it, he pulled me close. He held me tightly, cupping the back of my head in his strong hand so my face leaned against his chest. I wrapped my arms around him, squeezing my hand against his back where I felt him shudder.
“I need you to do a favor for me.” Prowd stepped back from me, holding his hands upon my shoulders. “Though I will understand if it frightens you.”
I lifted my chin up and waited for his command.
“Undress for me,” that hoarse growl beckoned. “Take down your hair and stand naked before me.”
I licked my lips, horribly aroused by his words. “Sir,” I breathed.
“I know,” his voice trembled. “It is awfully forward of me. It is...depraved. I will understand if you think I am vile.”
I thought no such thing. In fact, it excited me. I took off my cap and let down my hair. His breath hitched in his throat as he watched me untie the apron then work down the row of buttons on my uniform. He stepped back, almost touching the wall as I removed the dress, letting it drop around my feet. I then pulled the slip up over my head and Prowd’s back fully pressed against the wall.
I could feel my lust dripping down my thigh. I had never been this aroused before. Once I stood naked before him he removed himself from the wall. Prowd stood there, one hand around his throat while the other hovered in the air.
“Is this what you wanted, sir?” I stroked my hand down my chest to my belly.
“Yes, Blythe.” He took a step closer. “This is exactly what I wanted.” His gloved hand reached out and petted my cheek.
I bit back a smile of pride. “Is there anything else?” Coldness floated around me, it touched my skin, almost dripping down along my flesh. I shuddered and waited for him to touch me, to make me warm again. My teeth began to chatter and the cold started to feel like fingers upon me.
Prowd’s breath shuddered. His hand slid down the side of my neck and quickly moved to grasp my shoulder. He squeezed tightly then moved to my arm. He guided my hand and placed it upon his neck. He made the other hand do the same and he held them there in his grasp. Out of impulse I wrapped my fingers around his neck and squeezed. He wheezed and moaned, keeping my hands firmly in place. I choked him and he seemed pleased by it.
“Sir?” I breathed and he finally let go. I slid my hands down his chest and stepped closer to him.
“Very good, Blythe,” he coughed. “This will do.”
“I can do more!” I was practically begging.
Prowd let out a low breath. “You are a strange woman, Blythe. I cannot tell how you think. It frightens me to a degree.” He placed his hand upon my arm. “But it is that which calls out to me. You need not do anything more for me, but I will reward you.”
“I don’t mind if you tell me what to do.” I was still very much pleading. “It’s alright, sir.” I placed my hands back upon his waist. “It does not bother me at all.”
“I am learning that.” He then slipped his fingers under my chin. “Is that what you desire?”
I nodded silently.
“Then from now on, you shall be my attendant. You will be given the room beside mine, but under no reason are you allowed into my room. You are forbidden from entering any room beside your own on this floor. And you are only to go into rooms on the second under my order. Do you understand, Blythe?”
I nodded with excitement. “Yes! Perfectly, sir.”
Edmund put his arm around me and led me to what would be my new room. The room wasn’t much bigger than the one I had now, but there was a window and a wardrobe for my things, as well as a bigger bed. He sat me down upon the bed then stood away from me. It felt like there were cold hands upon my shoulders, but I ignored the sensation.
“As I said before, all but your room is off limits on the third floor. The second floor you can only go where I tell you. At night you are not allowed near me unless the room is completely dark and the windows shuttered. You are never to see my face, and should I come to you in the dark you are not allowed to touch me.”
“When does that start?” I asked eagerly. The cold squeezed tight around me and I thought I heard a laugh upon the breeze outside.
Edmund chuckled. “You really are a strange girl, Blythe.” He went to the window and pulled the curtains closed. He turned back to me. “I need you to bring in some more staff. Do you think you can accomplish that?”
I nodded. “It should not be too hard.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” Prowd stood before me. “Once there are souls in this manor again, I will give you a reward.”
I was given clothes to wear when I went into town. They were still the same blood red as my old uniform, but they were much more elegant and refined. I went out, searching for young and eligible people to come and work at the manor. It took time, but eventually they started to come. The staff filled out, and word spread of the good money that Prowd offered.
At night, I sometimes heard knocking from the floor below me. I was able to ignore it, but some nights the knocking became a pounding, a beating. It struck hard against the floor, even though I knew there was no one below me.
The more staff I brought into the manor, the more I felt a presence about me. Much like the eyes had watched me in my room, I felt as if my shadow had taken on a pulse and breath. Something followed me in the manor, breathing against my ear and holding my hand.
“You’ve worked very hard, Blythe.” Prowd complimented me.
“Once more people came, it was not hard,” I told him. “We will have a full staff soon.” I smiled up at him, placing my hand about his neck.
Prowd captured my hand and rubbed his thumb into the center. “You’ll receive your reward tonight as promised.”
I held my breath from excitement. “My room will be dark for you.”
That evening I waited for him. I lay naked on the covers, touching myself from the excitement. I heard footsteps in the hall and I moved my hands to the headboard and held the iron bars there. As I waited, I heard the footsteps continue, but they stopped. I heard murmurs from Prowd’s room, which was strange. I heard a thumping and the sound of something falling over. It was quiet and I stood, going over to the wall and pressing my ear to it. Inside there was weeping and then a quick muffled scream that became silenced in a moment.
I waited, but I heard nothing else. My door opened and I quickly sat down upon the bed. Prowd approached, slipping his fingers under my chin. “You’re so good, Blythe.”
“Sir, I thought I heard something,” I murmured.
Prowd’s hand moved down my naked body. “Just the wind, I assure you.”
A hand cupped around my breast, but it did not feel like Prowd’s. It felt soft and silky, the fingers felt long and thin. “Lay down now, Blythe.” Something about his voice sounded strange.
My desire won out over my concern. I laid back and followed his commands. I thought I heard a whisper in the darkness, a woman’s voice saying: “She’s perfect.”
I turned and saw her grinning down upon me.
#monsterxhuman#monster fudger#monster lover#monster boyfriend#horror romance#dark romance#momolady monsters
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TBOI Headcanons: Horsemen
Death
He/him
He’s...nice. Not a good person by any means but he’s the most polite of the bunch. Kind of strange though. Creepily calm, a bit sarcastic, and he has a pretty morbid view on the world.
Reserved and usually grumpy. He can be rather chipper off-duty, though. Putting up with the others takes a lot of energy from him.
Tired....
A bit neurotic but good at coming off as a down-to-earth guy.
He’s the most book-smart of the bunch and he’s fairly wise. A bit emotionally stunted, but he tries his best to be mature and make the right choices.
Death is more than a bit nihilistic and pessimistic. He has a hard time just... caring, mostly about himself.
Not to say he’s completely apathetic, he can be pretty empathetic but he tries not to act on that too much because if he did his job would have broken him by now.
He likes to think he’s got it all under control, but he does not. He’s more prone to pettiness and stupid decisions than he’d like to admit.
That being said he’s been pretty good with like. Growing and maturing though. He’s changed more than he realizes in just in the past.... decade or so ago. A bit of a late start for an immortal but hey at least he’s slightly less of a scumbag.
It’s usually not easy to anger him unless he’s really tired or something’s already set him off. When something does piss him off badly he’s a bit prone to freaking out. He’s not very good at handling his emotions.
Sees his own job as a necessary evil, because hey, someone’s gotta do it.
Interested in botany/gardening, as well as literature.
Genuinely nice- or at least polite- to the kids when he’s not supposed to be murdering them. He sees no reason to go out of his way to do so, especially since unwarranted cruelty towards others has only bit him in the ass.
Famine’s older brother. The two have always had each other’s backs.
Diligent, and always considers the logistics to things instead of acting on emotion alone.
Protective of the other horsemen.
Pretty short tbh
His horse’s name is Chili.
Famine
She/he (bigender). You can use both interchangeably or only use one set, she doesn’t care. Fine with they/them too but it’s never really clicked w/ him enough to be preferred.
Usually prefers more masculine terms (brother, sir, mr...) but fine with anything.
.Flips between bouncing off the walls and having no energy whatsoever.
Impulsive, she’s got terrible judgement and has the most idiotic of ideas sometimes.
Fairly easygoing, tries to forgive and forget and doesn’t let little transgressions get to her
Actually pretty damn sad. Needs some self care but never looks after herself.
I mean she’s optimistic and usually happy but like. There’s always just a bit of sadness, you know? He’s dealt with a lot and it’s definitely taken its toll on him.
Disaster Lesbian
Tries to be a graceful loser but she can get a bit more competitive than she’d like to admit.
Has a hard time relating to others and considering how they feel, at least when it comes to anything more complex than “bad thing happened now I’m sad/mad” He’s a drifter by nature, always onto the next big thing for a quick thrill.
Eats a lot. It’s never enough.
Plants and a good deal of food will decay if she touches them, or even gets too close to them.
Like his brother he has some interest in nature. Famine is more on the adventurous side, though. She’s tried to live off the land a few times with varying success.
Named her horse Frisk
Pestilence
He/him
Calm, quiet, but also a pessimistic jackass.
Always in a bad mood. I mean, he’s permanently sick with just about everything contagious and deadly. You’d be grumpy, too!
Surprisingly high pain tolerance. A good deal of his nerves have probably just.. shut down or something. Or maybe he’s just numb to everything after a lifetime of pain.
Sleeps a lot
Dislikes his situation a lot, but doesn’t mind the company of the others.
Lazarus is terrified of this dude. The other kids are mostly grossed out or annoyed by him.
Likes to be alone.
Fairly smart, but comes off as absent minded bc he’s pretty much too sick to function. He slips up a lot and he’s pretty damn clumsy
Probably the most rational of the bunch, when he’s not in airplane mode.
He’s also got a fairly strong moral compass. He doesn’t really like fighting the kids unlike War and Famine. Or just having to go up against people in general. Hell he hates the fact people get sick because of him. At the very least Pest has higher standards and is fairly transparent
But that isn’t to say he’s a good person. Yeah he doesn’t go out of his way to hurt others for shits and giggles and He’s Not Conquest but he doesn’t ever object to any of the shit the kids are put through and well. Yknow he still does kill them. He will also encourage some of War’s antics when it’s against someone he dislikes.
Tries to be as supportive as he can for the others. He knows he can’t do too much without overexerting so he tries to be encouraging and comforting as he can.
This compassion usually isn’t extended to humans, though.
Not very emotive, the only emotions he ever really expresses would be disdain and mild concern.
Not very fond of Conquest but they don’t hate each other. They actually work together well, too.
Friends with Mahalath. They’re pretty close!
His horse’s name is Moses.
War
He/it
He’s not very friendly, he’s pretty defensive and always on edge.
Out of all the horsemen, he’s probably the one closest with the Beast.
Lots of scars n injuries, it’s practically stitched together
One gold tooth
Impulsive, prefers solving issues through violence than through reason.
He can be fairly clever, though.
Intentionally angers/upsets others, likes causing problems and ruining things for people.
Desires wealth and power
Gets burnt out pretty quickly.
Emotional, insecure, and sensitive, and he hates this part of him. Definitely overcompensates for it.
Explosive temper, quite literally. Catches fire when upset and explodes if it’s more intense. Damage done to him also makes it happen. It’s not entirely voluntary but can be held off, and his “sobbing” sprite is him doing exactly that (but he’s probably also trying not to cry lmao). In the Ultra War fight, however...
Its daily routine leaves a lot to be desired. It wakes up, goes to work, then it goes home and just. Sits and rots.
Also, his diet is god awful. Please just eat a fruit or vegetable for once maybe you’d feel better goddamn.
He cannot remember if his horse is actually a horse or not but uhh he named her Bellum.
Conquest
He/they.
High and mighty sort of attitude. Can be very selfish. Stubborn, set in his ways. Gets defensive if you call him out or tell him he’s wrong.
Gay + nonbinary but in the closet (and denial) about both of those things. They’re trying to unlearn years’ worth of internalized bigotry.
Used to be worse, now trying to unlearn his toxic behaviors. But he’s still awful.
Doesn’t remember anything before their death. However they’ve held very strong Christian (specifically Catholic) beliefs all their life and they have a pretty black and white way of thinking.
Very cold and clinical. He has a bit of a temper but there’s a sort of calmness to everything he does even when he’s pissed.
Just as argumentative and aggressive as War but like more of a threat.
The others call him Connie sometimes, especially Death, who practically almost always calls him by this nickname.
Doesn’t harbor ill will towards Pestilence. They might have been overshadowed, but it’s not Pestilence’s own fault. If anything, being out of the spotlight has been good for Conquest, even if they do miss the attention sometimes. The only reason the two dislike each other is because their personalities clash.
Now if there’s anyone he hates that would be the Headless Horseman. Fuck that guy amiright
Very protective of Death. The two are close, Death is probably the only person who is consistently nice to him.
Utterly terrified of needles (hypodermic, not sewing needles, though he’s not good with sharp objects tbh) and medical stuff makes him anxious
Seems very... off. Just weird vibes but no one can pin point what about him is wrong.
Oh uh and his horse’s name is Josephine.
#the binding of isaac#binding of isaac#tboi conquest#tboi death#tboi war#tboi pestilence#tboi famine#tboi headcanons#long post#some of this is tentative but for the most part this is just. here to stay
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Close enough to 10 mintues of “Ms Axel is a Goon”
Screw it. I'm posting it here, too.
*NOTE: This is 100% fictitious and not going to happen*
Final Assignment
Script Writing, Winter School 2021
ONE-PAGE PITCH
TITLE: Ms Axel is a Goon
GENRE: Action, comedy, sci-fi, family
LOGLINE: In the humid city of Dasmus, Mei Axel is a former goon who's just escaped captivity. Since her escape, she's been trying to better her life with her new found passion for music, but she quickly learns that the entire country wants to trade her name and face for a price.
FORMAT: Full-length animated film
MAJOR AND RECURRING CHARACTERS:
Mei Axel – A wanted fugitive. Mid 20s. Despite her physical competence, she's mostly a foolish, plucky girl who steals a guitar one day.
Alicia Vonarb – CEO of a liquor company. Late 30s. The last boss to hire Axel to do her sneaky business work. Confident and vain, but does everything in spite of her mother. Wants to capture Axel because she doesn't want to get ratted out.
Kannie Orma – An old gadgeteer friend of Axel’s. Mid 50s. Also a “lame uncle” sort of figure to Axel. Their friendship must remain secret because his work is also involved with Vonarb.
O. Miho - Axel’s former coworker from when she was working for Vonarb. Early 30s. His current assignment is to capture Axel. Smug and thinks he's funny.
K. Claymont – Axel’s other former coworker. Late 20s. Works together with Miho. A kind man, but only most of the time.
SYNOPSIS: Mei Axel. She's a goon that's been caught and jailed. Eventually enough, she makes a successful escape and ventures outside. Not much happens afterwards other than stealing a guitar, and once discovering that she's got a passion for music, now she aims to live up that dream. But while attempting to live her new life, her face still reads as an incompetent menace to her former friends and foes, as well as to the majority of the country – they all seem to want to trade in her face for a cash reward. Now, aside from escaping the hands of everyone that wants to hand her over to the government, it is now up to Ms Axel to figure out how she is going to be able to pursue her new life goal that heavily conflicts with her current place among her people. This first follows the story of a wanted fugitive who sets off on a quest for redemption which, unfortunately, never works out. The story ends when Axel eventually escapes the country. She finally acknowledges that she can never truly change the way she's perceived, as well as never fully experience the life that she wants. However, she still performs under a low profile, happily living a drifter's lifestyle.
RATIONALE: This is a story about someone whose wrongdoings and nurture had shaped the way that others view them. Our protagonist is Mei Axel who had been built up to become a significantly infamous member of society, but once discovering a part of herself that showed her potential in a more respected position, being a musician, she starts wanting to better herself. A problem with this scenario is that her past actions prevent her from fully achieving that dream. She can relate to audiences who want to change aspects of their past, particularly their mistakes or the wrong ways they've been brought up, but can't.
MARKET: Children ranging from 11-16, particularly those that are interested in scenes that involve action-packed chases and fighting between individuals. The [film] will present itself through retro-futuristic aesthetics in its city setting. Rock is also a prevalent music genre for the soundtrack, which may interest audiences who particularly like the genre.
The Script
EXT. BUILDINGTOP – NIGHT
Axel checks out the guitar from every angle with a grin, having a feel of its neck, strings and body. She sits it on her lap as if to play it.
AXEL
Oh... I hope those lessons never went to waste...
She wobbly plays a C major scale while slightly wincing through every second. She runs over the same scale again, but this time it flows a bit more smoothly. She smiles a little.
MONTAGE OF AXEL PRACTISING GUITAR
- Axel goes over the same scale a couple of times and with every run, her playing gets smoother.
- She then moves on to a different key and practises that scale
- She then moves on to another key and practises that scale
- She plays some chords now, beginning with the I IV V I progression
MONTAGE END
Axel continues strumming. A light turns on from a nearby building.
DWELLER
Who is playing that garbage?!
Axel stops strumming. Silence.
AXEL
(Breathes in)
I'll get the hang of it.
She slings the guitar over her back and runs into the shadows. Eventually, she disappears into the dark.
EXT. MARKETPLACE – DAY
A view of a cranny on a roof between two walls. Axel sleeps there resting her guitar on her lap. Waking up, she yawns and then lazily sits up.
CUT TO:
A view of the market grounds. Axel smugly and excitedly, yet discreetly scurries out of an alley between a bakery and a liquor store, with a paper doughnut bag in one hand and a small bottle of liquor in the other.
She sits by a cafe playing some instrumental reggae rock music through a speaker. Axel hums along to the melody of the soundtrack while tipsily bouncing her finger to the beat. She then quickly strums a few chords for a brief moment, all which clash with the song's key signature, until right on the chorus, where she strums a chord that matches the root note of the song.
AXEL
Ooh, it's a G song. God, why do they always gotta be G songs? (Giggles)
She strums along with the music, landing every chord. Her smile grows and she gradually plays more confidently. She whistles the melody, then proceeds to hum. A TEENAGE BOY chucks a coin in front of her. Axel looks up and grins. She finger guns at him as he skids away to his friends, laughing. Axel stands up and plays more purposefully. The background starts dimming down.
DAYDREAM
Soon the marketplace around her blends into a stage. An abstractly drawn audience watches her perform and cheer her on. The chorus section of the song finishes.
AXEL
(Laughs)
I'm going to be known! I'll make myself the talk of the town! Everybody's gonna love me!
Axel starts strumming along to the background music again. Suddenly, a MAN with a large, muscular build grabs onto her shoulder.
END DAYDREAM
The stage fades back into the marketplace. Axel is still strumming.
MAN
You got that last part wrong.
AXEL
And who are you?
The man bats Axel with a club.
OVER BLACK.
SFX: Walking footsteps.
EXT. DESOLATE CITY AREA – DAY
In an alleyway, the man carries a bag containing Axel's body, also with Axel's guitar strapped around his back. After some time, Axel can be seen moving inside of the bag.
MAN
Huh? Hey. You keep still down there, would you?
Axel still moves inside of the bag.
MAN (CONT'D)
Look, this is goin'a be a long walk. That means you better cooperate with me, you hear that, Girlie? (Pause) You don't want to make me hurt you, now--
Axel falls out of a hole the bag with a shank in one hand and one of her boots on the other.
MAN
What the?!
The man looks behind himself while Axel stands up in front of him, holding her boot in both hands. She sends a finishing blow at the back of man's head and he falls to the floor. Axel cautiously looks at the man for a brief moment.
The man lies motionlessly on the ground. Axel drops her boot and fixes her shank back inside her pocket, then dusts off her hands before then squatting down next to him.
AXEL
Gosh, they really never hired me for nothing, huh... But I ain't into that stuff anymore. Say, can I have my guitar back?
The man does not respond. Axel lifts one of the man's eyelids and learns that he's out cold. Axel sighs with a slight chuckle. She lifts up the man and, with a struggle, unstraps the guitar from his body, before eventually slinging it over her own. Once fitting her boot back on, she then stands up and slowly walks over to the edge of the alley, whistling a chipper tune – the same melody she was playing earlier - on her way there. At the edge of the alleyway, her eyes look up. Then they widen.
INSERT – ELECTRONIC POSTER
containing Axel's mugshot and in large writing, "WANTED". Below is a list of details including Axel's height, approximate age, gender, race and the time and location of where she was last seen, “18:50, Southwest of Dasmus City”. There is also a cash prize.
INSERT – ELECTRONIC POSTER
containing the same contents as the previous poster, except the location which reads, “Southern markets of Dasmus City at 15:47, drunkenly playing a red Phenver brand guitar”.
A view of Axel between the alley's walls. All around are copies of the same two posters, both in electronic and printed forms. A mildly shocked expression crosses her face.
INT. TOILETS – DAY
A view of a row of toilet stalls. None of the stalls' doors are closed, except for the one in the centre. Axel's guitar leans on a nearby wall. Her feet can be seen in the gap between the bottom of the door and the floor. Axel kicks the wall.
AXEL
Damn it! I'm such an idiot! What was I thinking?! Me? A musician? That's just one way to draw attention!
VONARB (O.S)
Axel? Is that you?
AXEL (CONT'D)
I can't b-- (Pause) Ms Vonarb?
Axel immediately opens her stall's door and looks in the direction of ALICIA VONARB'S voice. Vonarb walks towards Axel.
VONARB
And to think I'd meet you here of all places?
AXEL
I never expected to see you here, either.
VONARB
Well, isn't this quite the reunion?
AXEL
Eh. Not really.
VONARB
I'm surprised you got clever enough to get yourself out of prison.
Axel exits her stall.
AXEL
So, is that to say you're impressed with me?
VONARB
Nope. How'd you think I found you here so easily?
AXEL
Easily? That was easy?
VONARB
Anyway... Don't think I came trying to find you for no reason, now.
AXEL
Oh yeah! Coincidentally, I'm a bit short on cash. You don't happen to want to hire me again, don't you?
VONARB
(Laughs)
What? After getting yourself thrown in jail?
AXEL
Oh... (Pause) What are you even here for, anyway?
VONARB
Well. First of all... (Clears throat) Whatever you do, please don't take this the wrong way.
AXEL
Huh?
Silence. The two stare at each other. Axel tilts her head in confusion. Eventually, O MIHO and K CLAYMONT enter the room. Miho holds a taser while Claymont holds a bag.
CLAYMONT
Now, I don't mean to spread any panic or alarm--
AXEL
(Gasps)
You gotta be kidding me!
VONARB
I just said to not take it the wrong way--
AXEL
I knew it! You are as easy to see through as a window! It's 'cause of my “WANTED” sign, isn't it, Vonarb?
VONARB
Wrong!
AXEL
Huh?
VONARB
You see, we're here to keep you away from those authorities. And knowing you, you're probably so incompetent that you'd just wind up stuck in prison again! So, since you're with us, you're going nowhere.
AXEL
What? Why?
VONARB
You're pretty infamous now. And I've got my business to worry about, too. So, if it didn't all add up in that brain of yours, let's just say, I don't want to risk you ratting me out.
AXEL
Yeah, I'm not doing that!
Grabbing her guitar, Axel jumps on the sinks and runs along them. Miho runs to tase her. Axel whacks him with her guitar and then heads right out the door. Claymont follows.
CLAYMONT (O.S)
I got it!
EXT. CITY STREETS – DAY
A view of the front of a pub. There is people scattered everywhere. Suddenly, the door swings right open and Axel sprints outside with her guitar now strapped over her back. She continues along the street. Claymont chases right after.
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Work in the Sun
(cw: gore, graphic descriptions of violence and death)
Time was, I fixed fences. Work always needs doing, whether for a chipper bull or a heavy rain. Always paying to lift and haul timber. Let the load sit high across your shoulders. No matter how much weight you sink into your legs, it sits on your back, rubbing the skin raw.
I fixed fences, and it was pleasant work, because most folk won’t stand out in the sun and watch you do it. That’s what I can’t take; someone seeing me sweat. They lounge with one elbow on the post and drink chilled orange juice and tell me to lift with my legs, not my back.
Fuck you. Lift your log-stiff body on my back. Drive you like a fresh pile. How many blows of the hammer to jam your bones beneath? How hard can I swing before you splinter?
I used to fix fences, and I was good at it while they kept their mouths shut. That’s the problem with folk; they spit at your feet and call it favors, like what leaks past their lips is worth a damn cent while I can hear my blood pounding all through my head.
Work always needs doing, and work is good, but work isn’t work unless you do it for someone else. Nobody pays you shit to fix your own fence or paint your own house.
Used to paint houses, too. Back turned tough like leather under a hundred days of summer slathering sticky white and glaring red on a sage’s house. He called the world a prison, and I tended to agree with him, except he was saying it from inside his covered veranda with the ivy hanging down while I sweat making his prison prettier.
I’d make him drink it till the stomach he coughed up was white and red. With the little flowers, the ones he paid me a half purse extra to draw in swirls up the corner.
Work isn’t good for my hands. They curl too swift when the sun beats down and the sweat drips down my back. They know how to fit around a claymore’s hilt, and around your throat, too. Even not knowing is better sometimes. Sometimes you just have to pull and crush and twist, like working fresh clay. Clench till you can feel it slip through your fingers.
Time was I had a job firing bricks down by a wide, shallow river, and the heat wasn’t so bad because I could lie on my back in the muck and feel like a corpse bubbling up out of the bog.
Saw a man vanish in the sucking mud. When they come round at the end of shift to share out his drifter’s tote, they said a rolling stone doesn’t gather much moss.
He could’ve choked on moss, too. It can’t fire your pipe, and if you’ve ever been desperate enough, you’ll know it’s no good for eating. Too much moss, it clings to you like ruined gauze, and you’ve got to pull it off to make sure you heal right. Never seen a man choke on a single shift’s purse.
The sword makes it different. All their fence posts are legs and necks and arms, all their colors are white like houses and red like pretty little drawn flowers. Flesh splits clean like when you sink your spade into river mud.
Forgot what I was meaning to say, anyhow. Suppose that’s all.
#i dont really know what to say abt this#you know how it is#i remember a conversation i had with my brother back when i first read as i lay dying#abt how i couldnt understand how nobody saw how fucked up cash was#or how no one commented on it#and he suggested to me that before the modern categories of mental illness crystallized that was just a way you could be#different from other people but not mentionably so#i think a lot of that goes into serge#ten blows in grief
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Beyond Light Part 4: The Lightborn Captain
Summary:
Fireteam Paralight have successfully tracked down Phylaks. But after the baroness mocks Tif for their rank as a captain and association to Mithrax, both she and Fireteam Paralight quickly learn just why she was made a captain in the first place...
Previous Part: Here
Next Part: Here
As Fireteam Paralight entered the Nexus, Phylaks contacted them again, “They say you all are great warriors. Rae, Slayer of the Red Legion. Blaze, Destroyer of Oryx. Marcia, Light’s Shadow. But you I’ve never heard of…”
“I think she means you, Tif.” Berhane whispered. “I’m Tif. Captain of House Light and right-hand of Misraakskel.” Tif replied. “A human captain? Bah!” Phylaks began to laugh, “What a joke.” Tif let out a low growl as Phylaks continued, “You all are built with machine-weakness. God-dependence. You flee from battles you think you’ll lose. Prove you are worth my time.”
Tif muttered a curse in Eliksni under her breath as they continued into the Nexus. “What did Phylaks mean by ‘god dependence’? The Traveller?” Ghost asked, “I don’t feel dependent on or limited by the Traveller. I feel close to the Traveller. Protected. Or…I did.”
“What do you mean?” Rae asked.
“Ever since you got that splinter…I feel further away than ever.”
“Don’t worry. The second this power does anything to hurt you or me, it’s gone. I promise.”
“Thanks, Rae.”
“Don’t worry ya little core, Ghost.” Marcia grinned, “As someone who had Darkness that did hurt them, I can say- WHAT THE HECK IS THAT?!”
Marcia looked on with a horrified expression as she spotted a large Vex marching with a group of smaller ones. “Is that a harpy…with legs?” Rae stared with a confused expression. “Who cares what it is, just kill it!” Blaze called out, gun at the ready.
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Rae’s Dawnblade faded from her hands as the last of the Vex burned away as Blaze took out the cube powering the barrier blocking their way. “We should be close by now.” Marcia sighed as she reloaded her gun. “I see now you are a worthy challenge. A chance to hone my blade.” Phylaks’s voice came through once again, “Come find me, machine-spawns. I am waiting.”
“Alright then. Let’s keep pushing.” Rae said as the fireteam made their way deeper into the Nexus. As they did, Rae noticed Tif looking a little peeved. “You okay, Tif?” she asked. “Yeah…it’s just…” Tif began, “Phylaks is wrong. Just because I’m a Guardian, doesn’t mean I’m no less of a captain! And I’ll prove it to her! With or without Stasis.”
“That’s the spirit!” Marcia grinned, giving Tif a playful nudge, “Let’s give her a piece of our mind and let nothing get in our way!”
“Another Brig up ahead.”
“SON OF A-!!”
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Fireteam Paralight arrive at what seemed to be piece of land surrounded by radiolarian fluid. Nearly as soon as they arrived, a ketch appeared overhead and Phylaks emerged from it, cackling as she landed on the ground, “I will bring your corpse to Eramiskel. I will forge myself a ring from your armour.”
“You won’t! We’ll defeat you!” Tif countered. “Ha!” Phylaks laughed, “You really think that you, a human playing pretend, can defeat me? I always thought Misraaks was a fool when I head of his ‘house’. But the fact he made a weakling of a human a captain? He’s truly an idiot.”
Tif tensed up, “Take. That. Back.”
“What-?”
“TAKE BACK WHAT YOU SAID ABOUT MISRAAKSKEL!” Tif roared.
“Why should I? He’s an idiot kelling a house of idiots.”
Tif growled, “Rae, Blaze, Marcia. Stay back.”
“W-what?” Rae stared at Tif in disbelief. While her captain-esque mask hid their expression, Rae could make out Tif’s eyes behind the semi-transparent eyepiece that was designed to give off the illusion of Eliksni eyes. Tif’s expression wasn’t their cheery or determined one. It was rage. Tif took several steps forward until they were between their Fireteam and Phylaks. They glared directly glared at the baroness and growled out in Eliksni, “She da hu, et? Sha da go do bo ra!”
Phylaks narrowed her eyes at Tif as Blaze and Rae’s went wide. “What? What’s happening?” Marcia glanced between her fireteammates and Tif and Phylaks. “I recognise that phrase.” Ghost replied, “That’s what Taniks said when he was challenging us in the ways of old. Or at least that’s how Variks described it.”
“Tif’s challenging Phylaks by themself…” Rae muttered.
“Are they crazy?! They’ll get themself killed!” Blaze exclaimed.
Phylaks glared down at Tif before chuckling, “You may be small and weak…but I appreciate an opponent with guts. Come then! Show me what a ‘captain’ of House Light is capable of!”
Tif brandished their arc blade and lunged at Phylaks who managed dodge out of the way and fired at Tif with her own gun. Tif took a few shots to the shoulder but shook it off and fired her submachine gun at Phylaks.
Rae, Blaze and Marcia looked on as the two fought each other. Blaze’s expression was one of concern and fear as she reached for Firelight. Rae stopped her by putting her hand on her shoulder, “No.”
“But-!”
“This is Tif’s fight. If she gets in real trouble, we’ll intervene.”
Blaze, albeit hesitantly, removed her hand from her gun’s hilt, feeling helpless as she watched Tif take on Phalyks.
“Surprising strength for such a tiny creature!” Phylaks chuckled as she teleported from platform-to-platform. Tif gave chase as the ground beneath them began to disappear, the others following suit but not engaging in the fight. Tif could feel themself running out of steam as they began over-exerting their Light, yet they kept pushing. Rae had never seen Tif like this. In battle, Tif would usually be chipper and easy-going, almost seeming to enjoy the battle and treating it like a fun experience. Now they seemed like a whole different person. Serious, determined, unrelenting, even aggressive to a point. This was it, she realised. This was why Mithrax appointed Tif as a Captain. Tif was more than just an optimistic soul who was friendly to everyone. They’re a strong leader who never gives up on others or themself; who would fight until they reached their limit and would still keep pushing if it meant protecting others; who put the safety of their friends and allies before their own. The best way Rae could describe Tif was the living definition of a Titan; a defender of all.
“GYAH!!”
Rae was snapped out of her thoughts as Tif went skidding across the floor as their helmet tumbled next to them, a large gash carved in it. Tif went to get to their feet but was grabbed by the neck and slammed against one of the blocks jutting up from the ground by Phylaks. Even in their situation, clawing at Phylak’s arm, Tif never dropped their expression. Their eyes wide with rage filling to the brim never looking away from Phylaks’s and their teeth bared as they struggled to break free from the baroness’s grip. “I must say, I’m impressed.” Phylaks began, “For a machine-spawn, you definitely put up a fight and I can respect that. But it still wasn’t enough to beat me.” Rae went to grab her gun to get the large Fallen away from Tif but stopped upon seeing a familiar shard floating above the platform, beginning to glow orange. “I’ll make your death quick as a reward.” Phylaks raised her arm as stasis began to gather in her hand. Tif squeezed their eyes shut as a familiar surge of energy began to swirl within them before letting out an enraged yell as a blast of stasis came surging outwards, sending Phylaks stumbling backwards. Phylaks looked back at Tif who had stasis swirling around them as they glared angrily at her, raising their fist. “I’m. Not. Done.” Tif growled as they clenched their fist which became covered in stasis crystals. “Good.” Phylaks hissed, a grin evident in her voice. Phylaks began to send waves upon waves of stasis towards Tif who swiftly weaved between them while sending out walls of their own. However, Tif seemed to be aiming at different points throughout the battlefield instead of towards Phylaks. That combined with Phylaks’s spikes made it hard for the baroness to move throughout the battlefield…yet Tif was able to squeeze past with ease. “Can you see them?” Blaze asked, desperately searching for Tif in the sea of stasis. “No, it’s too cluttered.” Marcia sighed in frustration, “We just have to hope Tif knows what they’re doing.”
“Hiding, are you?” Phylaks chuckled darkly, “That won’t defeat me, machine-spawn.”
“Nah. Just using size to my advantage!” Tif leapt up from behind a spike towards Phylaks and grabbed onto her face, using their stasis in an attempt to freeze her from the top down. Phylaks roared out in pain as she scratched at Tif’s back. Tif cried out in pain as Phylaks’s claws pierced their armour but refused to let go as Phylaks’s movements began to slow as the stasis began to freeze her in place. “Never call me or my house idiots again!” Tif yelled, “I’m Tif Kariuki the Lightborn Captain! And I will never let ANYONE hurt my friends!” As Phylaks slowly stopped moving, Tif leapt up, using Phylaks’s shoulders for momentum, and with a mighty yell, slammed down onto her with their frozen fist, shattering Phylaks into pieces. Tif landed on the ground amongst the frozen shards, breathing heavily as the stasis faded from them once more. They saw Phylaks’s splinter lying amongst the frozen shards and picked it up before turning to where Rae, Blaze and Marcia were watching, slack-jawed in awe at what they just witnessed. “That…” Marcia breathed, “…was the most badass thing I’ve ever seen.” Tif smiled brightly before picking up her helmet and placing it back on, “Let’s go back. I’m super tired now.”
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“You guys should’ve seen it!” Blaze beamed as she sat by the fire with Drifter, Marcia and Eris back at the campsite, “I’ve never seen Tif like that! They were all like ‘Rah!’ and ‘Ba-boom!’ and- oh man, you should’ve been there. Phylaks deserved all of what she got!”
“Sounds like you got quite a show.” Drifter chuckled, “Though I’ll admit, wouldn’t have guessed so much rage could fit into that tiny kid.”
“Looks truly can be deceiving.” Marcia added as she looked over at Rae and Tif who were briefing the Stranger on what happened. “And that’s the majority of what happened.” Rae finished explaining. “I see.” The Stranger nodded before turning to Tif, “Well done. You’ve taken to stasis like a fish to water.”
“D’aww…thanks!” Tif grinned, blushing with embarrassment. The Stranger chuckled before continuing, “Eramis’s presence on Europa is not happenstance. Temptation set the wheels in motion, but obsession propelled her here. To destroy the Light with an army of Darkness – she and her followers make those selfish choices moment to moment. The Darkness places a spotlight on our desires as it once did me and those I cared about. For a time, I had forgotten…Humanity relies on our selfless acts to bring about a better world. Darkness is no more than a tool with which we do so. With splinters of Darkness still in hand, Eramis remains an immediate danger to humanity. Look within. Focus your power. Let it grow. The Ziggurat awaits.” Rae gave her a nod before turning back towards the campfire, “Marcia. We’re heading back up to the Ziggurat.”
“I’ma comin’.” Marcia called back as she got to her feet and began following them up to the Ziggurat. The whispers returned as they ascended the stairs. “I want fried chickeeeeeeen.” Marcia whispered, mimicking them. “Eramis stiiiiiiiiiiinks!” Tif whispered back, stifling a giggle. “Guys, knock it off!” Rae giggled. Upon reaching the top, Tif took out the splinter they got from Phylaks and held it towards the shard on the left. The shard glowed brightly as Tif felt another surge of energy flow through her. “Anything?” Rae asked. Tif held up their arm and summoned an orb if stasis in their hand. Their eyes lit up as they turned to Marcia and Rae, “I-I did it!”
“Nice!” Marcia grinned before jolting as she felt another pull, similar to the first time they arrived at the Ziggurat. “You feel that too?” Rae asked. “Yep.” Marcia replied, “Let’s go find another shard.”
To Be Continued…
#Changing our Destiny#rae drakyx#blaze kiria#marcia wyverk#tif kariuki#ghost#destiny ghost#The Drifter#destiny drifter#Eris Morn#destiny eris morn#exo stranger#destiny 2
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