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brief-candle · 4 years

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αℓεα ιαcтα εsт - various kny x reader [1]

reuploaded bc my tumblr is being stinky >:(( update: still being stinky. for some reason this isn’t showing up in any tags no matter what i do and i’m so confused? bc the second chapter’s showing up??? idk :/

also was wondering if y’all would be interested in seeing some art that i do sometimes, bc i’ve kinda been getting back into drawing lately!

THIS IS A YANDERE SERIES. JUST SO YOU KNOW. I WILL WARN OF ANY TRIGGER WARNINGS IN FUTURE CHAPTERS, BUT THIS ONE’S NICE AND TAME!! TY FOR READING AND HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY!! <3

GENERAL OTHER STUFF TO KNOW BEFORE YOU READ: MC (READER) IS FEMALE; THERE IS A BUNCH OF CANON DIVERGENCE; MANGA-ONLY CHARACTERS WILL APPEAR IN LATER CHAPTERS, THOUGH I DON’T PLAN TO DEAL WITH ANY PLOT ELEMENTS THAT DON’T APPEAR IN THE ANIME.

edit: chapter 2 is out!!

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

The sun was high in the sky, beating down on the trio that were treading unfamiliar ground. The scenery looked very much like that which they'd seen countless times before, but that was to be expected to an extent. They were in the same country that they'd always been in, after all, however that didn't alleviate the sense that something was amiss in these parts. These parts that were so close to where they'd always been, yet seemed so completely and utterly different all at once.

"Tanjirou...!" One of them wailed, as usual. He was already a couple of paces behind, but had really began to drag his feet over the last couple of metres. Though this behaviour was very much usual for the wailer, Tanjirou didn't act annoyed in the slightest. Not that such a thing was surprising in any way- Tanjirou was too patient and kind for his own good sometimes.

He turned to face the boy, who was barely making an effort to catch up, while the third begrudgingly stopped also. With eyebrows slightly furrowed in concern, he asked: "what's wrong, Zenitsu?"

Zenitsu- the wailer- was huffing and puffing when he finally made it over to Tanjirou. It appeared difficult to even stand up straight, as he wavered and wobbled with each slight and rare gust of wind.

Still wheezing, he gasped out a desperate question, "are we nearly there yet?"

Tanjirou stared at him for a moment in silence, before sighing deeply.

"Hey- what was that for?!" Although completely out of breath just a moment earlier, it seemed that his energy had been restored enough to begin to screech. It was whiny and hurt the ears, though that was probably its purpose, knowing Zenitsu. It was no wonder why he couldn't get married when he began to speak using such a tone of voice; it truly was grating on the ears. Never mind his whiny begging, clinging, desperate tone and actions mixed with his general perversion. If you happened to be feminine and breathing, chances are Zenitsu was interested.

But I digress.

Their companion snorted before erupting into a fit of mean-spirited cackling at the blond's outburst, having held it back from even his initial whining. This only served to fuel Zenitsu's irritation, leading to his pitch raising and voice increasing in volume as he began to (attempt to) berate the boar-headed male.

"Zenitsu..." oh dear, it seems that Tanjirou is tired of this situation. He even pulled out the 'I'm not mad, just disappointed' tone of voice and expression.

Zenitsu noticed this immediately, quieting down very soon after, only to pipe up with a, "yes?"

"This is the third time that you've asked in five minutes."

"And?!" And suddenly, his enthusiasm that he could have been putting into walking and actually getting somewhere instead of simply complaining returned with a vengeance, arms flailing with fury as he did so, "we've been walking since dawn, and you're telling me that we're not there yet?!"

Tanjirou nodded.

"No way...!" His voice lingered long after he'd collapsed to the ground, lying there like a starfish and staring at the sky with a gaze like that of a dead fish.

"Hey, Zenitsu, are you alright?" Tanjirou- bless his cotton socks- had asked without a moment's hesitation as soon as it had happened. However he did make a very strange noise of confusion soon after, if that counts for anything. Either way, though, he was still staring down at his friend with a very worried face. Their friend, on the other hand, only began to snicker louder at such a display.

"This is the end for me, Tanjirou." Said Zenitsu, not even glancing in Tanjirou's direction as he did so. Each word was monotonous, too even in tone to be from Zenitsu. "You must go on without mE-"

His even-toned speaking evolved into a high-pitched shriek as he was dragged up and slung over the shirtless male's shoulder- him still cackling- before the latter began to sprint away.

"Hey, Inosuke-!"

"INOSUKE, PUT ME DOWN, STOPSTOPSTOPSTOP--"

Tanjirou didn't even have time to sigh again before he had to sprint after them, lest he get left behind. Though even if he did, he supposed it would be easy to find them without even having to sniff them out, with the obnoxious laughter and the terrified screaming. For such a normal, kindhearted boy, he certainly had some strange friends.

They kept running along the path until the sun flew over them, now threatening to disappear beyond even more hills. However the scenery here was rather different, with large fields of grass to the left and crops growing to the right. It was well-organised and looked well-maintained, however Tanjirou didn't even want to know how many people would have to work so rigorously to maintain the land.

"Oh, are you boys demon slayers by any chance?"

It was sudden, abrupt, and caught all three of them off guard. Perhaps if it didn't sound so gentle and feminine then they'd have reacted a bit more quickly and with a bit more force. However they were glad they didn't when they saw the owner of the voice: a young woman, ordinary-looking by all means, but with a certain twinkle in her eyes that looked very amused by what had just happened. And for good reason, too, as one had screamed, one had turned so quickly that it was surprising that their neck didn't snap, and the other grunted. Except it was more of a surprised grunt if anything. Though it was extremely hard to tell the difference between each type of grunt.

"Did I scare you? I'm terribly sorry." She bowed politely as she spoke, each word matching her reserved and respectful demeanour. However she clearly wasn't adept enough at hiding how much enjoyment she'd gotten out of witnessing such strange reactions, as the corners of her mouth struggled to not turn upwards.

"No, no, it's fine; there's certainly no need for a lovely lady like yourself to apologise!" Of course, this was Zenitsu speaking, having recovered rather quickly from his screech that was much more ladylike than any lady that the other two had come across. It was clear that he wanted to move on from that as soon as possible, in some vain hope that this person might be the one that was sympathetic enough to marry him. So far, he'd had no luck. And he was growing more desperate by the minute.

But as he tried to grow closer, he was soon flung a couple of metres away in an instant. Such an event was followed by the woman's scolding voice. However, for once, it wasn't Zenitsu getting scolded. Instead, in an unlikely turn of events, it was something getting scolded for his sake. Every now and again into her scolding session, a whinny attempted to be heard, only to result in even more scolding. Tanjirou and Inosuke only looked on, minds just as blank as their faces. What does one do in such a situation?

Well, upon realising that Zenitsu was bleeding, Tanjirou very quickly decided to try and help him. Inosuke merely watched on for a moment, before making a sound of awe and withdrawing his swords from their sheaths with a rather terrifying cackle,

"What a beast! If I can take it down, then-"

"Please don't try and fight my horse."

"Inosuke!"

-----------

It had taken a while to sort everything out, so much so that nightfall was but minutes away. Thankfully, even after the Inosuke incident, the woman had been willing to let them stay in her house for the night, perhaps more if Zenitsu needed extra rest. His friends already knew that he'd play on the illness card just to continue trying to court the poor girl, but it was something that they simply couldn't hope to change.

"She's really kind, isn't she?" Zenitsu gushed to them in the shared room that had been provided, "giving us all this stuff, even after what Inosuke tried to pull." It was impossible to miss the annoyance lacing his voice as he mentioned Inosuke, who had now taken off the board head and was lying on the best futon available. Not because he deserved it, but because he refused to move off it for Zenitsu who, despite his ulterior motives to his injury, was indeed injured.

At that, Tanjirou grew curious, "Inosuke, have you never seen a horse before?"

"Horse? You mean that thing that Zenitsu lost against? 'Course not!"

'Course not?

"Inosuke..." Oh, how Tanjirou wanted to explain everything wrong with what was just said, but that would require too much time and too much energy for the night. A night which had followed a hectic day which was extremely tiring.

He glanced over at the box he'd been carrying all day, lips pursed slightly to accompany a conflicted expression. Was it alright for Nezuko to come out here, when their host could walk in at any second? It would be difficult to explain their situation, especially to someone who may have lost their entire family to a demon. It could also be dangerous to Nezuko to be put in such a position. And so he shuffled over to the box, opting to sit near it rather than to open it.

"Sorry, Nezuko," he murmured, patting the wooden walls of the box carefully, "but you'll have to stay in there for a bit. I'm sure I can let you out for a bit tomorrow, if we're still here."

Inside the box, there was a bit of shuffling to be heard. But soon after was an acknowledging grunt, one which Tanjirou thanked her for, face forming a bright and beaming smile. It was just in time that he'd shuffled back to his futon, as the woman knocked upon the door and entered very soon after. The relief he felt knowing that he had narrowly avoided a sticky situation was immense, though he had to admit that he felt a little bit nervous when thinking of what could have so easily taken place instead.

"Sorry to interrupt," she said, a tray in her hands. Immediately after shutting the door behind her, she placed the tray on a nearby table, sitting beside it. "I made some tea, if you'd like some. I figured it'd been a long day for you all, so I decided to make some tea to help soothe the body and mind." Her words were spun like silk, with a quality to her voice like warm honey. The tea merely became one of the many aromas which wafted around the house, mingling and mixing to form one very odd (and quite overpowering) smell.

Zenitsu was (predictably) the first to join her, singing her praises to the heavens. She merely accepted them with the humility and grace that they'd come to expect from her, and so they all began to sip their tea in comfortable silence.

That is, until she was the one to shatter the comfortable atmosphere.

"I'm sorry for how abrupt it may be for me to say this," she started with, glancing briefly into each of their eyes before returning it back downwards to her own cup. It was held between her hands, and she squeezed it ever so slightly before continuing, "but I fear I must ask, lest anything undesirable occurs."

After one more sip, which felt so drawn out that it was as if she had sipped it until it was all gone, she began to elaborate: "Please, no matter what you hear, do not go out after nightfall."

That was certainly not what they were expecting to hear, especially being demon slayers. Their whole occupation was to fight demons, which required them to go out at night. It was safe to say that such a thing was a very odd request. Even if she had phrased it more like a demand.

Indeed, as she began to speak of that which she wished of them, her voice seemed to drop the kindness that they'd grown to associate with it. The honey that she wound into each word was cut loose, leaving that which she said with a bitter taste in their mouths.

Well, not Inosuke's. He, after chugging the rest of his tea (which was still very much piping hot), asked with little to no hesitation: "Why?"

The girl clearly wasn't expecting this, blinking owlishly twice before repeating the question with a slight tilt of the head.

"Yeah- why not? We're demon slayers, after all, so it's not as if the demons pose a threat." As usual, Inosuke was cocky and boisterous in everything that he did. His words were drowned in such an attitude, his movements were made from them, his expressions screaming them. Still, it did little to affect her, who sharply poked a hole in what he'd said without a moment's delay.

"Really? Then does Kibutsuji Muzan not pose a threat? Or the Demon Moons?" This time, even her eyes had dropped the gentle and kind mirth to them. It was difficult to recall the last time that she'd blinked as she sat there, the sharp colours found in her irises standing out much more in the dim candlelight as she bore holes into he who spoke against her.

Before he could speak up again, she rose to her feet, staring down at them all. Perhaps it was the fiery and temperamental glow of the candlelight rather than the calm and natural light from the sun that accentuated the tense atmosphere- so tense that perhaps a knife could not even slice through it. Perhaps it was also the lighting that made her seem much more ominous than she had at any other moment, that made the scowl she wore more menacing than it would be. It would have been a question as to whether she'd been scowling at all, whether her lip had been curled that much and her eyebrows furrowed so deeply that the skin between them crinkled, had she not spoken so coldly and with a tone so clipped.

"There is a difference between confidence and foolishness. Perhaps it would be best that you learn this difference before your next fight."

This humble farmer, who'd chuckled with them just a few hours before and boasted little more than a simple yet productive life, uttered sentences in which wisdom, the kind which could be born only from experience, ran like rivers. Yet when prodded when she let them slip, she merely brushed it off, claiming a relative used to say it. Or something to that extent.

She bowed then, deeper than ever before, and after excusing herself had disappeared into the darkness of the hallways.

No conversation stuck that night, and sleep had a similar pattern when it finally came.

-----------

Despite struggling sleeping, on edge due to events that never ended up occurring, the three awoke a bit after daybreak. It was about five minutes later that a knock on the door echoed through the room. It was rather surprising to find the woman who was so moody and distant the night before, looking so chipper and energetic in the morning. Once again, she brought in a tray, bearing a simple breakfast for them all and accompanied by some more tea. She placed it on that table once more, removing the other tray at the same time. Once again, she excused herself, though this time it was with the same merriment that they'd expected from her before the occurrence of the previous night. It seemed so hazy now, almost like a fever dream.

However they knew it wasn't. They knew it was real, without even having to confront each other about it. Although she never brought it up and cleverly avoided giving them a chance to, they didn't doubt for a moment that what had happened the previous night was equally odd and true.

And so, while she excused herself from the house very soon after taking away the almost untouched tea from the night before, they concocted a plan. It was morally very wrong, but their curiosity overturned their morals in this place. Not only was her behaviour rather odd, but the more that they thought about it, the house was rather odd as well.

"It smells so weird..." Tanjirou had found himself to be the first to complain about the house. The smell was beginning to irritate him with how powerful it was, so much so that he couldn't even begin to separate the different scents and their origins. Such a thing was so simple for him to do usually, yet he was unable to do so here. It was unnerving to think about; a demon could attack at any notice and he wouldn't even be able to know.

Inosuke was next up: "y'know, I was excited and all at first with how soft the floor is- I mean, where else do you get floor that's soft? In a house?!" The more he thought, the more he got distracted by how much he liked the softness of the material under his feet and hands, and how it separated in between his fingers and toes but was still so soft-

"Get on with it, we don't have all day," Zenitsu commented bitterly, quite upset that his most recent crush wasn't honest and trusting of him, someone she'd met literally the day before.

"Ah-" and Inosuke was brought back to present day, clearing his throat, "but yeah, I can't even feel anything else apart from how fuckin' soft this floor is. And the house!" He slammed open the door to the hallways, terribly startling Zenitsu in the process, "Is full of it!"

Zenitsu's heart seemed to be racing too fast for him to be able to participate in their little chat for a bit, but thankfully five minutes with a cup of tea had calmed his nerves. Not before he began to mutter very angrily about Inosuke under his breath for 'trying to kill' him, mind, but with a gentle prod from Tanjirou he began to share as well.

"I've never really come across anything like it..." he mumbled, quite ashamed of it as he dug a finger in his ear, "and it might sound kinda stupid, but I can't hear anything through these walls."

It took a moment for that one to sink in- such a thing seemed impossible. However he soon added on to what he said.

"Well, actually I do hear some stuff. But it's really faint, even though I can't hear stuff that's right outside."

"Like what?" Tanjirou immediately asked. This prompted Zenitsu to think deeply, staring up at the ceiling and humming for a moment.

"Dunno. Footsteps? They sound kinda far, though, so surely that's not it."

That was true. And so the trio began to think a bit more, staring at different places in the room and humming to themselves as they did so. Tanjirou even began to talk to Nezuko about it, even if she couldn't respond. Seeing as their host wasn't in the house currently, he deemed it safe to let her out and wander around a bit to stretch her legs. She had been in that box for over a full day, after all.

Then, as he watched her toddle around, an idea struck him.

"Wait, Zenitsu!" The sudden outburst shocked the aforementioned male, but (thankfully) not bad enough that he needed more tea and a time-out session.

Tanjirou pointed at his younger sister, who stared up at him questioningly, "how loud are Nezuko's footsteps?"

It was a strange question to ask out of the blue, but with how serious Tanjirou looked, Zenitsu replied as soon as he processed it, "pretty loud. Way louder than even Inosuke's."

This prompted an irritated growl from Inosuke, who looked ready to brawl with Zenitsu over the implications of that statement.

At this, Tanjirou lowered a fist onto his open palm, an expression of realisation on his face, "then what if they are footsteps?"

This question seemed even stranger at first glance- how could they be footsteps when footsteps from right outside the room couldn't even be heard? It just didn't seem logical, especially when the one that was navigating the hallways wasn't even very stealthy from what they'd seen of her. But then it clicked, and Zenitsu's face paled at the very notion of it.

"You can't mean-"

"Yes, I do." His face was deadly serious as he stared at Zenistu, ignoring Inosuke's persistent pestering to know what was going on. The latter's questions were answered anyway when he elaborated: "I think there's a demon in this house."

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"Tanjirou..." Zenitsu was barely able to speak through the chattering of his teeth, which was the one thing that didn't falter about him as they headed down the stairs. Even Inosuke was being quieter, not uttering a single thing, nor even laughing at the blond's misery from underneath that boar mask of his. They'd found the staircase from behind a bookshelf, only doing so when Inosuke had felt the drag marks it had left on the carpet that he so loved.

It was dark, and would only get darker the further down that they went. It would be all too easy for the girl to trap them in there if she discovered where they'd gone, but it was a risk that they were willing to take. For there was a chance, no matter how slim, that she may not know of the demon in her house. Or perhaps it is forcing her to provide shelter for it to stay. There were too many possibilities which could mean that she was in danger, and all of them stemmed from the demon being in her house.

"Tanjirou...!" He repeated, a bit louder and whinier this time. Even Nezuko, who had forced them to allow her to tag along, shot him a look of disapproval. And if nothing else shut him up, then that certainly did, for Zenitsu was a creep to the core, and would drop anything that any living girl disliked that he did in a heartbeat. At least it came in handy sometimes, such as now.

There was light further ahead, and Tanjirou could smell it clearly now: it truly was the scent of a demon, and they would have left without knowing such a thing had they not been so insistent before. Sometimes, in rare moments like these and when he was asleep, Zenitsu was truly useful to have around. But then he squealed, and a huge list of reasons as to why not to have him around could easily be thought up.

Either way, there was no point in sneaking around now that Zenitsu had blown their cover so soon. Duct tape would have really come in handy. If only it was invented about half a century earlier. But, alas, this was their fate, and it was one that they had no choice but to live through. They didn't have the upper hand of surprise, but they certainly had the upper hand in numbers.

And if everything went to pot then they could just knock Zenitsu out. Always seems to work a treat.

As they crept into the light of the room, they took note of the figure kneeling in the centre. He faced away from them, though many of his features could be noted of. The first and most bizarre thing to note was the sword laying beside him. At least, it was the most bizarre until they took note of his clothing, which was extremely similar to theirs, though he also adorned a white jacket over the top of it. His hair was a mess of white, tinted with the warm hue of the flickering flames of the torches around him.

He hadn't noticed Nezuko's growling until now, nor her intense and furious glare. If looks could kill, that guy wouldn't even have ashes left.

"You really haven't learned what respect is at all, have you, you damned brat?"

That voice- how could Tanjirou forget that voice? The voice of the Hashira who had attacked his sister from a couple of years ago with a twisted grin all over his face. He was quick to understand Nezuko's growling, and had to hold her back from rushing in to attack him. The one thing that protected him from her was now gone, and he was one of what they hated.

He turned, a similar expression to the one back then written on his face, with those purple eyes still so wide, smile so wide that it split his face and nonexistent eyebrows furrowed. Though his rise to his feet was slow, obviously taking his time, they still didn't attack. Zenitsu's whole body was clattering with fear, clamming up and making him unable to say anything at all.

"It looks like I'll have to teach you myself, doesn't it? Maybe then it'll finally stick, even with a moron like you!"

As a human, he was already extremely quick. But as a demon he was even quicker as he lunged towards them, blade in hand and all too eager to strike.

#yandere x reader #yandere kny #yandere kny x reader #yandere kimetsu no yaiba #yandere #x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kny #kny x reader

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pazvizslaplasmathrower · 4 years

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Father of Hopes and Dreams - Chapter 9

Read here or on AO3

Chapter 9: Dead Man’s Deal

Series Summary: Your young master is gone, just at the birth of your bond, he has left you for many years, leaving you to survive the galaxy alone. After sustaining an injury from a drunken storm trooper, someone faces the decision to either leave or help you in your moment of need.

Chapter Summary: You and your new guardian set off to Tatooine to find a starship for your travels. But in a moment of weakness, your curiosity gets the better of you.

Word Count: 1760

A/N: As always the MC is gender neutral and written so anyone can insert themself into the story. Comments are much appreciated! Also reqs are open!

“Primary goal: we need a star ship.” Paz muttered mostly too himself.

Young Y/N leaned over to look at what Pas had pulled up on his worn holopad. Much to their disappointment there was no array of star ships on the screen only a conversation in a language you couldn't make heads or tails of.

“What does that say?” You asked loudly, pointing directly at a word Paz had typed quite aggressively. “I...I think I've heard it before. Doesn't it mean ha-”

“Nope!” Without warning, Paz covered your mouth with a hand, before the rest of the word had a chance to roll off your tongue.

With both of your hands, you pried Paz's hand from your face, “S'not like I was gonna actually say it...”

The Mandalorian sighed, putting the data pad away, instead bringing out a holomap. The transport was nearly empty, so he was able to shrug off some of the natural anxiety that came with being out in the world for extended periods of time. You on the other hand seemed to be perfectly fine, not bothering much with your surroundings and still maintaining a lively energy. He was thinking to himself for just a moment too long.

“So...Are you going to show me where we're goin' or what?” You asked, trying to grab the device.

Paz Vizsla moved it just out of reach, switching it on. Blue light burst forth in a wave of unusual elegance, the map illuminating your face. Your guardian pointed out different planets and stars, tracing your current path with a gloved finger. As interesting as all those names and numbers were, the planets themselves were something to behold. With just a light touch, a single planet could be enhanced, illustrating its key features. To think that now you were going to once again be able to travel among the stars without fear! If only your master could have seen you.

“So, I want you to stay by my side the whole time. Y/N. Are you listening?” The man sighed once more. “Y/N, listen. Come back to me. “

He lightly snapped his fingers, drawing you out from your thoughts. “Huh?”

“I said that I need you to be at my side. Tatooine has no patience with naivety. Hold onto me if you must.”

Nodding, you wondered what type of port you would be landing at. “Is that where we're going to get a ship?”

“Yes, young one. Remember that use of your...powers is on hold for now. Until you can use them safely, there will be none of it.”

Groaning, you threw up your hands. “But what if something happens!? I don't have the strength of a Nexu, without the Force I'm dragon bait!”

“If you listen to me, you shall be just fine.” Paz patted them on the back, his strength a tad overwhelming, sending the kid lurching forward.

Still, the little one gave him a wry smile. “You can promise that you're gonna always be with me?”

He had no answer.

They slipped back into their seat, swinging their feet back and forth. “I know you can't. No one can do somethin' forever. I'm just scared I guess.” He watched them anxiously pick at the leather straps of their pristine, new armor. “I really don't wanna die as a kid, y'know?”

“I...I do know.” He said calmly.

The child nodded, nudging him lightly in the side. “I kind of figured. Man, it'd be nice to live a little and see things...”

“Y/N.”

They turned their head, those inquisitive eyes, somehow meeting his gaze right through his visor, most didn't know where to look, unable to even glance at him.

“Look at me.” Even though they already were, he couldn't let them know.

Swiftly, Y/N righted themselves and moved in the seat until they stood on direct eye level. “You're gonna say something serious, aren't you?”

“Yes. While I may not always be at your side, during the times that I am, I will do all I can to give you the best life you deserve.”

Y/N's mouth opened to speak, but Paz held up a finger to silence them.

“Don't you dare say you deserve otherwise.”

Without warning, the ship rocked, jarring both of them.

“WE'VE DOCKED. PASSENGERS CAN NOW LEAVE THE CABIN.” The pilot shut the com off, opening the hatch. Paz stood, beckoning you to follow and you did, making sure to at least stay in line with the Mandalorian's shadow.

***___***___***

Swear poured down the sides of your head, and dripped down from your brow, making your eyes sting. At first the prospect of wearing armor, was alluring, making you feel like a hero of old. High above, the twin suns beat down on the planet, making you move at the pace of a snail. Force, how Paz Vizsla was able to march ahead unperturbed.

“Can...Can we take a break?” You groaned melodramatically. “I'm gonna melt!”

“Are you drinking your water?” The man asked, glancing back.

Growing sheepish, you shook your head. “No...It's warm now.”

“Just a little further and we will rest for a bit. We really must hurry if we are going to meet the buyer.”

With a gloved hand, you wiped your forehead. “Why can't we break now?”

The Mandalorian took a breath, checking his com to see if there were any new notices. “Y/N are you truly exhausted?”

Weakly, you nodded, hoping he wouldn't insist on pressing further. To your good fortune, Paz Vizsla beckoned you to come forward. Sluggishly, you did, and to your surprise, he knelt, and turned his back.

“We don't have much time to waste. You can just hang onto my armor, alright?”

“Kark! Awesome!” With a smile, you latched onto the Mandalorian's back, holding onto the straps of the forged plates.

“Watch your mouth, Y/N.” He chided, standing and shifting to accommodate you. “Not until you are older.”

“Hm, we'll see.”

Even with you hanging on him, the Mandalorian Paz Vizsla, forged ahead, not slowing down a bit. The lifeforms on this planet were diverse to put it lightly. Never before had you seen such an array of peoples before. Traveling with your master, the both of you tended to stay away from the rest of civilization. A precaution that your old teacher had insisted upon. The urge to stare was far too much for you to handle, and so you gave in, looking at nearly everyone that passed by. Quite often you were observed right back, your curious stare met with tense scowls and strange smirks.

“Staring is rude, A'dika. I know this is all new for you, but you will find that the inhabitants here are far less than kind.”

You grumbled, pulling the hood of your short cloak up so no one could look at you. The rest of the walk was less than a mile, Paz finally stopping at the entrance of an extremely worn looking star ship hangar. The main door was shut though, large sections of durasteel were missing, having been stripped away by some monstrous force. Leaping down from the Mandalorian, you glanced at him with a worried look.

“We'll be fine.”

Tentatively, you trailed behind him, tense, waiting for something to happen.

Without pressing the door switch, the hangar entrance started to open, the harsh noise making your hair stand on end. From the dark inside came a rather sickly looking figure, ghoulish in complexion, hunched over, gaunt arms swinging from side to side with this new character's gait. His nearly toothless smile regarded your guardian, but then his white eyes looked down upon you.

“You never said you were bringing a kriffing child.” The brute growled.

“They are mine, they travel with me-”

“No children!” His sudden yell sent him into a coughing fit. “Leave the child outside or we don't have a deal!”

You could see Paz tap his fingers against the side of one of his blasters. Sighing, he turned and kneeled to speak to you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Listen. It's won't-”

“Make up your mind! I don't have all day!”

Paz Vizsla merely turned his head. “If you raise your voice at me or my child again, I will shoot you where you stand.”

The ghastly man closed his gaping mouth.

“Forgive me, Y/N. It won't be very long. I just need to make this deal and we'll be on our way.”

“So I'm just gonna have to be out here alone?” You looked around, wary of how many strangers were wandering about.

“Everything will be alright.” Paz assured you. “Find somewhere close to hide. Wait there until I call for you, understand?”

That bastard behind the Mandalorian glared your way when you met his gaze. You wanted to put up some sort of protest, but decided against it.

“Okay...Can...Can you be quick?”

He chuckled, standing up tall. “I will do my best, A'dika. Don't worry. I'll come looking for you.”

Those curious twin suns, had started to fall, giving way to the majesty of night. No matter what planet you traveled to, the night sky had always remained perfectly beautiful. Heeding the Mandalorian's word, you scampered to the alley way next to the hangar, trying to find someplace unsuspecting, but comfortable. Not wanting to take cover in the dumpster nearby, you crawled up on the roof of the adjacent building, keeping low to the ground. Seconds flew by, then minutes, an hour and them another. The suns were gone by now, leaving you under the luminescence of the moon and stars.

“It's so kriffing cold...Hurry up...”

It had taken most of your self control not to go off and investigate the numerous interesting sounds, smells and sights. The Mandalorian Paz Vizsla had given you kind, but strict instructions to wait for him, but that had been ages ago. To wait a moment longer would make you go insane.

“A few minutes wouldn't hurt.”

With your enthusiasm piqued, you jumped to your feet, looking for your own adventure. By the time you had wandered off into the night, Paz strode out of the hangar, a sudden sinking feeling making his heart race. He yelled out your name. Once. Twice. Three times and nothing. He quickly checked over his jet pack, knowing a good scolding would be in order. Maker, nothing better have happened to you, so help him.

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lonelypond · 5 years

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Moonlight Becomes You: Apocalypse Midnight Dance Party, Ch. 9

Love Live/Love Live Sunshine, NozoEli, NicoMaki, KanaMari, YoshiMaru, 1.8K, 9/?

Summary: Most everyone settles in for a quiet night.

INTERLUDES

Pacing, Nico was frustrated and pacing, reminding herself of Eli on growl prowl as moonrise neared, Nico trying not to just throw herself into a wall to see how it sounded. That wasn’t how Nico coped, no, Nico did practical things, so taking a rag in hand she began to wipe down the counters. After that, the sliding doors, then maybe she would start chopping things for a stew or something. Not borscht though, Nico made a face, tongue out, gagging, even though there wasn’t anyone to amuse or tease. Beets, beets you could have too many of, and cream, cloying, heavy sweet cream...Eli’s new Russian food cravings were having too much influence on Nico’s meal choices. Tonight though, Nico was opting for a less cloggy choice. If Nico was eating alone, a crisp, fresh salad from locally sourced produce was the ticket...just the lightest dressing. She opened a cabinet, small bowl, olive oil, mustard, white wine vinegar, whisk, then take the chives out of the refrigerator and start chopping. Lift the knife, let it fall, get into a nice, non pacing rhythm, ignoring the people who were ignoring her by not blowing up her phone with apology texts, that was the ticket. And then, after the sensible salad, curling up on the sofa to watch K-Pop weekly roundups and eat strawberry gelato. That was the best way to spend an evening. Really it was. Nico knows all. That decided, Nico hummed as she assembled her dinner.

###

Kanan fell back into her couch, sighing. Mari flounced out of the bedroom, in her third outfit of the day, a bright --somehow -- gray sleeveless sweater dress that her hair fell off the shoulders of like the molten gold of the sun rising out of the sea. From her first sight of Mari, Kanan had never not been captivated by how that glow reflected Mari’s sunniness, inhumanly bright and impossibly brattish.

“How much did you scare Eli?” Kanan asked wearily, having developed over many years the dual capacity for enthusiasm and cynicism about the ‘helpful’ wrenches Mari in fix it mode would throw into the lives of their friends and acquaintances.

“Mio cuore, I’m not cruel. I did nothing to your dancer, except trying to get Nozomi to acknowledge the fact that she couldn’t take her eyes off the poor girl. And I can see why.”

“Mari.” Exasperated, Kanan closed her eyes, stretching her arm out along the couch, knowing what would come next. And there it was, the softest touch of feather soft strands, then the weight of Mari’s head against her shoulder.

“Ah, but you are the only beast for me, bella. We have always been linked by the thread of destiny.” Mari whispered against her ear with a touch of lips as soft as the slightest swell of the sea.

Kanan’s laugh was a bark, “No matter how much you gnaw at it.”

“KANAN.” Mari’s shock was genuine as she threw herself back across the couch, hand fluttering to cover her betrayed heart. Mari’s shock was always genuine when Kanan refused to let Mari charm her way out of confrontations.

“So Eli wasn’t crying because of you?” Kanan’s suspicions continued. The memory of Eli’s red rimmed eyes wouldn’t fade.

“No.” Mari’s dramatics were eclipsed by gentle concern.

“I wonder what it’s like to be surprised…” Kanan hesitated, caught by a sudden realization.

“Huh?”

“I always knew who I was.” Kanan reached her hands out for Mari’s, always so warm, always so willing to pull her out of fogs.

“Oh.” Mari frowned, scooting down the couch as Kanan reached out. “it must be terrifying.”

Kanan had watched Eli’s meticulous, unvarying warm up routine before every one of their rehearsals, the dancer slowly progressing through exercises and positions, always at the same slow speed, always in the same order. “Yeah.”

###

Dia was standing catty-corner to the fireplace, staring at the ocean. She’d only seen pictures of the Malibu estate like this, before the beach had been covered and the rock stairs useless at high tide. There were favorite corners she’d rather be tucked into, but Maki hadn’t invited her guests into the downstairs suites. The decorating was so strange anyway, complete absence of any hint of Nico, which made everything seem cold. Dia shivered, accidentally timed to a cough from You, who still persisted in flashing unforgettable legs in very forgettable, should be trashed shorts. Was this California in the early 21st century? Because, Dia decided, it could keep its complete lack of fashion aesthestic, before she wrenched her eyes from You’s tanned legs to the very worried blue eyes watching her.

“Weird for you, huh?” You chuckled.

“Can’t you find clothes?” Dia snapped, turning even further out to sea.

“Uh yeah, sorry about these.” You gestured at herself, “Wasn’t expecting Yoshiko to drop you into my day like that.”

“Is it Yoshiko or Yohane?” Dia wasn’t really curious, but these questions allowed her to loop around any looming embarrassments or admissions.

“Both.” You shrugged. “I’m sure she’ll explain.”

“I’m not sure she’ll have a chance. Why in the world would I…” Dia started, irritated.

“Don’t you want to get back home?” You parried with a shrewd question.

Dia sighed and sat on one of the chairs parallel to the window, pulling a leg up to rest her chin on, “Of course I do. But maybe this is a dream…?”

“Ooohh, I’ve never been in anyone’s dream with lighting like this.” You struck a pose, hands under her chin, fluttering her eyelashes at Dia.

“Silly.” Dia forced herself not to laugh but a corner of a smile snuck out.

“Ah,” You bounced dramatically to the opposite chair, “Your face does relax.”

Dia tossed her hair back, rolling her eyes so as to not encourage this friendliness. “You have a home, right? Go and get some clothes.”

“Your mother will never let me back in.” You stated flatly.

Dia thought for a long moment, then smiled and shrugged.

You groaned and threw her head back, “You’re all so cruel.”

“All right, Watanabe, everyone in the family is taller than you are…” As Maki entered the space with that announcement, You dramatically threw a forearm across her forehead. Completely ignoring her, Maki continued “so nothing is even near your size, but here’s a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. There’s a bathroom that way.” Maki tossed a pile of clothes in You’s direction and thumbed in the direction of the hall behind her. Turning to Dia, Maki handed her a much neater stack, “My mother has some casual clothes that seem like they might suit you. There’s a guest suite down that hall if you want to get changed there.”

Dia stood, her arms full of a fuzzy mint, tan and blue check jacquard sweater and a pair of black knit leggings with small slits at the ankles. Very much what her mama would consider casual wear and a little too relaxed for Dia, but not as much as if Maki had raided her own closet. “Thanks.”

Maki nodded. “The driver’s gone to get food. She’ll be back soon.” Maki glanced around the room, “The fire makes it nice here, but we can set dinner out on the table.”

Dia remembered so many nights, her mothers curled up in each other’s arms on a much pinker couch, staring into the fire as music played.

“That’s fine. I like it here.” Dia hugged the pile of clothes a little closer; at least her gandmother's perfume was familiar, berries and pale flowers and a clear musk, “I am a little cold though.”

“Mama’s got a shirt jacket somewhere.” Maki swivelled, “I’ll find it.”

Dia found herself wishing she’d stayed in the hospital room. This situation, here at home, but everything and everyone just a step not right, was becoming too disconcerting and she could feel not a head but a whole body ache starting. Maki, her eyes so kind, so watchful but without the deep warmth of maternal concern Dia was used to. Maki might not be the most demonstrative of parents, Dia and Ruby had Nico for that, but Dia’s first glance had met those loving eyes and she had drawn comfort from them since. Passionately perceptive, fiercely stubborn, endlessly generous; everything Dia had hoped to grow up to emulate. But here, Dia was a stranger, Maki was preoccupied with other concerns, and puzzlement flashed across amethyst more often than benevolence. It was going to be a full body headache, Dia thought, reaching a hand to rub her eyes, forgetting she had an armful of clothes, her knees suddenly failing, and You was right there, in a ridiculously large white shirt with black ink kanji that slid off her shoulders and sweats she was keeping up with one hand. The other seemed to be keeping Dia up. How silly.

“What did you do?” Maki’s voice sounded distant even as it echoed angrily around the room. Dia tried to blink, but her eyes wouldn’t open, sleep suddenly sounded perfect as she felt herself being eased down to the couch.

“I came back and she was so pale…”

“She said she was cold.”

“Is that a symptom?”

The voice that wasn’t Mama’s, what was her name again, Legs, You, right, Dia rambled to herself, You had squeaked with worry, that was nice but Dia was fine, she didn’t need any help, just a nap.

###

Hanamaru smiled at Yoshiko sprawled gracelessly over a chaise at the back of the bookstore. As soon as the fallen angel had returned to a comfortable place, the time displacement lag took over and Yoshiko had proven how affected by mortal failings she was now. But the snoring was cute, and the way her midnight hair splayed out against the warm red of the chair reminded Hanamaru of nights when her wife had had some energy left and Hanamaru could remind her of heavenly pleasures other than the celestial.

With a giggle, followed by a sigh, Hanamaru plugged in the refilled electric kettle. No sense remembering those scenes, until Yoshiko had a chance to recuperate. And then, there would probably still be issues to sort out related to the displaced Dia before they truly had time to themselves again

How could Hanamaru help? Too used to Yoshiko’s refusal to admit she needed assistance, Hanamaru realized this, while Yoshiko was safe in a restful oblivion, was the perfect time to do her own research. Perhaps there were some answers to be found in the future. As the tea kettle bubbled, a bright blue light flashing in the darkened room, Hanamaru moved to the locked cabinet, hidden in a jumble of seemingly random bookshelves. Time for her to consult the Book Of Riko, to see if prophecy held any answers someone less impulsive than Yoshiko could puzzle out.

A/N: Howdy.Cats and furniture have been moved; still trying to get back into some form of routine. How's your October? Any Halloween plans? We're doing scary stories and snacks (probably not scary) by fireside next weekend for our next theatrical adventure. I might read some bits of Dracula. 'Tis the season ; )

#Moonlight Becomes You #Apocalypse Midnight Dance #PARTY #KanaMari #YoshiMaru #NicoMaki #NozoEli #Kurosawa Dia #Watanabe You #Yazawa Nico #Nishikino Maki #Tsushima Yoshiko #Kunikida Hanamaru #werewolf #etc

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codesecretsanta · 5 years

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The Warriors’ Holiday Traditions

To @furlfangs from @nemesisadraste

Setting: The first holiday after they defeat X.A.N.A in season 4. Time setting: My story happens in December 2006 in order to follow the CL time line. P.s: English isn’t my first language so please be indulgent with mistakes.

1st December 2006: Jeremy called all the warriors (including William) for a meeting in his room.

William finally arrives at the meeting. It was the first time a member of the gang, other than Yumi, had contacted him since Lyoko was shut down. So it must be important. He entered the room to see Jeremy seated on his computer chair, facing the rest of the room where the others had already found their seats: Aelita was on another chair next to Einstein, and the others were on his bed. Ulrich near Jeremy, next to him was Yumi and finally, Odd was the one nearest the door, laying back with his feet on the wall and head upside down at the other side of the bed, looking at William’s funny confused expression.

Odd: Hey! Little Will! Don’t be shy, welcome to the party! Said the cat-boy while turning around to sit normally on the bed. Here, you can take my spot! He continues while getting up and sits on another chair next to Aelita.

William: Ok. He simply answers as he goes to sit next to Yumi where Odd was before. What’s this weird meeting about? Does it have something to do with X.A.N.A or Lyoko?

Jeremy: Absolutely not! I called you because, as you know, it is our first holiday together without having to worry about X.A.N.A ruining it and I realise we never actually talked about our traditions for this time of year. So I wanted to fix that.

William sat still for a moment. He was extremely happy to be invited. That means they consider him a member of the gang, but he didn’t dare say it out loud in case that reminded them that he wasn’t. He simply smiles and waits for Jeremy to continue.

Jeremy: Ok so here’s how it goes! I’ve got all our names in this Santa hat. I’ll pick one at random and this person has to tell the others about their holiday traditions. Once it is over, we’ll reuse the names to make a secret Santa. Is that good for everybody?

Ok why not? Agreed the warriors all at once.

Jeremy: Perfect let’s do this! First one to speak is…….(Drumrolls)…… Odd! So Odd? What are your holiday traditions?

Odd: Oh you know nothing big. I just go back to Italia with my family. We have some rotation process so every year a different house organizes the party and this house alone has a Christmas tree to put the gifts under. But usually it goes the same: all the people arrive around 5 o’clock then everyone talks about how the stores were a mess to go to this year and how well the house is decorated and shitty things like that until we eat dinner at 7. Then the conversations gets a little better, but I’m too busy eating to even care so… then we stay in the living room until we open the gifts around 10. The host puts on a Santa suit and delivers the gifts and once they’ve all been opened we go to the midnight mass and then everyone goes back to their homes. That’s it. For New Year we just shout out the countdown for midnight and kiss each other a happy New Year that’s all. Usually I just wait for the season to be over and I can’t wait to come back here with you!

Aelita: Why? Your family sounds fun to party with!

Odd: Oh it would be fun if I didn’t have to anticipate my sisters’ “joke” and spend the whole night recovering from it.

Ulrich: Funny I thought you’d be the joker.

Yumi: Maybe karma does exist at some point (Laughs)

Odd: (suddenly very serious) If that is karma I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.

Everyone stays quiet for a while… What kind of jokes would scare Odd and take him that long to recover? He who never seems to be affected by anything… William was about to ask the question out loud when Jeremy, in order to change the mood, broke the silence.

Jeremy: Ok next one is (He puts his hand in the hat, mixes the papers and gets one out of it.) Ulrich!

Ulrich: Well that would be short I don’t have any.

William: What? How come? I though Dutch people celebrated Christmas!

Ulrich: Dutch people do! But my father doesn’t. I mean I used to get the Santa thing and all but my father learned somewhere that 7 years old was the rational age and he thinks that means to be little adults so a week or so after my 7th birthday, he spoiled it all about Santa and his magic elves not being real and even forbid me from watching “stupid children’s cartoons” anymore. Since then Christmas at my place is a business one where he invites everyone from his office and smooth talks the no-lifes who come. Same for New Year.

Yumi: Wow… I knew you didn’t have the father of the year but killing all the magic at once like that is just… super cruel.

Ulrich: It was just imaginary bullshit anyway so I don’t care. Who’s next Einstein?

Einstein: Yeah sure… ok (he mixes the paper in the hat again starting to feel uncomfortable with the whole thing… He did it for them to have fun not to relive holiday traumas… he didn’t even know such things could exist! Not so close to him at least.) Next one to share their holiday traditions is Yumi!

Yumi: Ok well don’t worry it won’t be awkward. (Everyone laughs nervously.) In Japan Christmas is a friends/couples holiday not a family one. On the 24th my parents go to a romantic dinner and I stay with Hiroki. We eat take-out fried chicken and watch some Christmas movies until we fall asleep on the couch and on the 25th we exchange secret Santa gifts in the morning. New Year is for family! We all go to my aunt Akemi in Japan from December 27th to January 5th and it is a time to clean, repair/replace everything broken and make resolutions to start the New Year on fresh good bases. It is very fun and I look forward it every year!

Jeremy: That sounds very cool!

Ulrich: Yeah can I go with you?

Yumi: Not for Christmas. Hiroki and I picked mom and dad on the secret Santa for the first time so we decided to only watch one movie while eating the fried chicken and then clean the whole house and then go to Millie’s house (guess who asked for that) for the night and the next day so our parents will have some time alone.

Ulrich: Oh that’s nice! And for New Year? Can I go to Japan with you? My dad probably won’t notice I’m gone for a week.

Yumi: If you pay your ticket I’m sure my dad won’t mind.

Ulrich: (totally broke) Forget it. But I’ll save up for next year.

Yumi: Fine by me said Yumi smiling.

Jeremy: Great! Now next one is……………………………………. William!

It took a few seconds for the ex Xana-warrior to realise his name was called. He didn’t realise he was actually in the hat, part of the gang.

Odd: Will? Do you plan on talking today? Cause if not I’m gonna get some snacks.

William: What?! Oh yeah it’s my turn… Ok well my dad and I are kind of Christmas freaks so all December we decorate the entire house. We would start sooner, but my mom doesn’t allow anything Christmassy until December 1st so… Anyway on the 24th we get my dad’s family here in France and it is a big super fun party until the Christmas mass. They go but I don’t because I’m atheist and I find it disrespectful to go to places of worship when you don’t believe their meaning.

Ulrich: So they leave you alone at home?

William: I’m not a kid I can take care of myself for a couple of hours! I just watch "Christmas Vacation" while finishing the party snacks. And on the 25th we go to my mom’s family in Quebec. Thanks to the time difference (Quebec is 6 hours late from France) we can get some sleep before going and still spend the entire Christmas day with them. Or the entire week since we stay for New Year which is really fun at their place and we all watch "Le Bye-Bye", a show where some popular local actors make comic sketches about what happens during the year. It is fun and my grand-mother explains every joke cause since we live in France, she thinks we don’t know anything about what happens in the rest of the world. It is useful sometime though… especially when they refer to Quebec TV shows so we let her do it. And that’s pretty much it so…

Jeremy: Cool… I didn’t know your mom was from Quebec.

William: Yeah they met during one of my dad’s business trips. I was even born and grew up there! I was 6 when we moved to France for my dad’s job. I never told you that?

All: Nope.

William: Ok, well now I just did.

Jeremy: Very interesting! Ok now there is only two left!

Yumi: The cute chubby couple! Screamed the manga fan, making everyone look at her in shock because of how unusual this sort of enthusiasm was from her. What?! They are a cute chubby couple. She adds pointing at Jeremy and Aelita.

Jeremy: Thanks! Ok so the first Chubby to talk about holiday traditions is……. Princess!

Aelita: Did you really write princess? She check out the paper to see that yes, he did.

Jeremy: And I wrote Einstein for mine he says while taking the last piece of paper to prove it. Though it was funny… It is funny right?

Odd: I give you my approval! But you lose points for not writing "Little Will”.

William looks at Odd angrily. What would it take for him to stop calling him that?

Odd: More than you could ever do in a life-time. Answered the trouble-maker as if he had read his mind.

William gets a little scared by it and manages to avoid eye contact with him for the rest of the meeting.

Aelita: I don’t remember. I was 6 when the men in black kidnapped my mom and after that Hopper didn’t celebrate any special days. He focused on Lyoko and his work as a teacher.

The room’s energy suddenly drops real deep down into sadness and compassion. Jeremy takes his princess into his arms and Aelita hugs him back for several long seconds before she gently pushes him back and wipes her little silent tears with her hands.

Jeremy: You know what? I’m sure you’ll find a way to make your own traditions and maybe this year I could share mine with you if you want.

Aelita: I’d love that! What are they?

Jeremy: I’m Jewish so I celebrate Hanukkah!

Ulrich: The thing with the candles?

Jeremy: It is more complicated than just "the thing with the candles" but yes. And since I’m the only one who hasn’t spoken yet I’ll be glad to explain it. A long time ago, a Seleucid king of Syria took control over the kingdom of Judea. He let the Jews do their own things but when his son took his place, wanting to unify his kingdom, he made it illegal to practice Judaism and to study the Torah. He wanted everyone to worship the Greek gods. Now many went along with it. But when the king invaded Jerusalem, a group of rebels called the Maccabees fought them for 3 years and once they pushed the invaders out, they had to rededicate the temple. To do so they needed to light the Menorah. Now they only had oil to light it for a day but it miraculously lasted eight days and eight nights. We call it "the miracle of the cruse of oil". And to commemorate this miracle and the victory associated with it, each year for Hanukkah we light the eight candles of the Menorah. One more each night during the eight nights of Hanukkah.

Aelita: What a nice story! I can’t wait to see the candle-lighting myself!

Jeremy: If you like how I tell the story you should hear when Jim does it! He is a good story teller despite what his "I’d rather not talk about it" anecdote suggests.

Ulrich: You mean Jim is Jewish too?

Jeremy: Yes! And so are some of the other boarding students. You see, Hanukkah isn’t exactly on the same date every year. Most of the time it happens before the holiday break. That means some boarders like me can’t be there for the menorah lighting with their family. And as real Menorahs (meaning not electric ones) are not allowed in the rooms for safety reasons, Jim does the lighting and the blessings each night in one of the classrooms so the students who want to attend can be there. And we can stay for the time that it burns which means half an hour or an hour and half. Non-Jews are allowed too if they stay respectful.

Odd: Cool! What time is it this year? I wanna see that! Promise I’ll behave I know this is serious.

Jeremy: You better! This year in 2006 Hanukkah starts the night of December 15th and finishes on December 23rd. But now it’s secret Santa time! I’ll put the names back in the hat and everyone pick the name of the person they’re gonna buy a gift for. Once you’re done, give it to Millie and Tamiya. They will give them to me once they’ve received them all and I’ll give you your gifts before we leave for the break. We all open them on December 25th at midnight on our own and not before then all right? We’ll talk about it when the break is over.

Jeremy puts the names back in the hat and shakes it to mix them randomly. After that, he passes the hat around the gang so everyone can pick a name. Odd was the last one and after reading the name he lets out a big sigh.

Odd: Oh damn I picked mine!

Everyone sighs heavily and puts their paper back except for William who instead says:

William: No you didn’t!

Odd: (With the greatest smile he’s ever had) Oh right I picked princess… guess that means you picked me!

Odd’s smile changes into a laugh when he sees William’s face as he realises he fell into Odd’s trap to find out who picked his name. Ulrich joins him while the others just look annoyed by his joke.

Jeremy: Seriously Odd! Now we’ve got to do it over because of your stupid joke! Ok all the papers are in? Good now Odd you pick first this time!

And everyone picks their recipient and goes back to their normal lives waiting for the big day.

Bonus: Who picks who and what was their gift?

Jeremy picks Aelita and gives her a necklace so he can finally say he is the giver without lying.

Aelita picks Jeremy and gives him Lyoko stats that she made herself since the supercomputer didn’t.

Yumi picks Odd and gives him a picture of the Lyoko gang so he remembers he still has a good family despite his blood-sucking one.

Odd picks Ulrich and gives him the “Pacific Rim” DVD cause it makes him think of Ulrich and Yumi.

William picks Yumi and gives her an antique looking glass so she never forgets how awesome she is.

Ulrich picks William and gives him an elf suit and he went to his house with a Santa suit and they had a merry XXX-mas.

Hope you enjoy it! Give me your comments! On my Tumblr (@nemesisadraste or @aidosshadow).

#code lyoko #code secret santa #code ss18 #nemesisadraste #furlfangs #fic

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redrobin-detective · 6 years

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The Long Way Around 26

Hello and welcome back! We’re near the end but Izuku needs a bit of training before he gets there. How will it differ from before? Let’s find out.

AO3

Chapter Twenty-Six: Gear up for Succession

"Am I going to be moving more garbage today?" Izuku asks, bouncing on his feet eagerly. It's early in the morning on his first day of training; they're at a beach near his house that's been accumulating junk over the last few years. It's quiet and secluded and a perfect place to build up his strength.

"I'm betting Gran Torino already made you do something similar, didn't he?" All Might laughs heartily. "He used to make me haul around junk when I was your age. I know we don't have much time but I'd like to see you clean up as much of this beach as you can. This is going to be tiring work, between this and what Aizawa has planned. I'm afraid you're going to have to halt your martial arts training, at least for the time being."

"What?" Izuku says with a sinking heart. He couldn't just quit Rikimaru-shishou. There's still so much he could learn from his master, quirk or not. "I can keep up with it all, I promise."

"I'm afraid not, my boy!" All Might says, in what he probably thinks is a stern voice. "Gran Torino and I have worked out your schedule to the letter, it will be detrimental to your well-being if you overdo it. I admire your enthusiasm but in this case, I must insist."

"I understand," Izuku lies as he looks around at the piles of junk before him. So the whole beach, huh? "Lets see, given my current strength level, I'll only be able to move smaller items so I should focus on that first but I won't improve unless I challenge myself. Maybe it'll be more efficient to take one section at a time and move everything, big and small-" he mutters under his breath.

"Sharp as ever but your brain won't help you move all this trash!" All Might says, clapping him heartily on the back and sending Izuku face down into the sand. "Get to work Young Midoriya, you want to catch up to your classmates as soon as possible, don't you?"

"Y-yes!" Izuku shouts, pulling himself up and running over to a nearby microwave where he struggles for a moment but soon is carrying it back to the dumpster All Might had provided. He grins as he hefts the broken appliance into the dumpster. He's on his way.

XxX

"Hey All Might?" Toshinori looks up from the book on teaching he's reading. Young Midoriya is currently struggling to move a large table missing two legs. He's damp with sweat but he seems to be making good progress.

"Why did you pick me?" the boy pants as he stops and takes a few deep breaths. "I've been giving it some thought and there really are a lot of other people more suited for this kind of power than me."

"Nonsense, you have heart, you're intelligent and your bravery is only outstripped by your compassion. I couldn't have found a better successor if I searched the world over." Toshinori says as he coughs a few times into his fist, trying to keep his feeble voice from shaking. "I know you'll do incredible things with the power."

"Yeah, about that," Young Midoriya says with an awkward grin. "You see, one of the reasons I wanted to be a hero in the first place is that I wanted take on some of the prejudices and corruption in society. With a power like One For All, people will finally take me seriously and well," the boy looks abashed as he plays with his shoes in the sand. "I'm going to be honest and say that I'll probably be changing a lot of things once I'm a real pro."

"Oh you don't need One For All to do that, my boy," Toshinori says with a hint of sarcasm, thinking of the boy's recent escapades. "And that's one of the many reason why I chose you. A real hero doesn't just stop the evil found in villains but the evil present in everyday life. I choose you because of your vision and I would have been awfully disappointed had you decided to keep the status quo." His student gapes at him with wide eyes.

"Don't look so surprised young man, I was once an angry, quirkless boy myself. Who do you think championed for the removal of certain quirk discriminatory laws? Or made it possible for the quirkless to apply to Yuuei? One For All opens many doors, my boy," Toshinori winks.

"I had no idea, that was you?" Young Midoriya says with wide, sparkling eyes. Toshinori preens, he often gets praised for his strength against villains but he rarely gets appreciated for his efforts behind the scenes.

"I'd better get started then. I think I'm going to begin by heavily advocating for people to stop treating the quirkless and those with atypical quirks as lesser people." Young Midoriya says as he pushes the table with renewed vigor. "I'd also like to tackle the commercialism of the Heroics industry, maybe do away with rankings altogether. Heroes should be public servants not celebrities; I'm sure I could get a few of my classmates involved and..."

"You go!" Toshinori laughs, "change the world young man!" Young Midoriya was going to tear the system wide open and Toshinori couldn't wait to see it.

XxX

Izuku is half asleep at his desk, struggling to stay awake when the door slides open. Homeroom has already started so it's a bit unusual for anyone to be so late. He lets his eyes drift shut, oh well a momentary interruption will give him a chance to rest for a minute. And to think he still needs to find the energy for afternoon exercises plus training with Rikimaru-shishou after school... His lunch today is going to be nothing but coffee and energy drinks.

"Iida!" he hears Uraraka shout and Izuku forces his eyes open. Iida hasn't been back to school since the incident with Stain. Izuku hasn't really had the chance to talk to him since everything went down. There are audible gasps as Iida steps fully into the classroom and Izuku can't blame them.

Iida's arm is still in a sling but what everyone is probably looking at was the vicious scar running across the left side of his face. Izuku hadn't gotten to see it fully since it had been first covered by blood, then bandages but it's pretty bad. It starts just after his ear and cuts all the way across his cheek ending just above his lip. When he smiles, it's lopsided. All of 1-A is silent as Izuku stands himself up. If only he'd been faster...

"Iida," Izuku says emotionally as his friend walks towards him purposefully. He's expecting some sort of rebuke but is shocked when Iida wraps his good arm around Izuku and pulls him close.

"Thank you my friend," Iida says softly. "Thank you giving me the chance to stand here and make myself into a better hero." He pulls back and smiles again. "Your media stunt was quite reckless and while I don't approve, I think I finally understand what you've been trying to tell us. You've proven to me beyond a doubt that this is where you're meant to be. Let's move forward together."

"I'm," Izuku says thickly as he wipes at his eyes. "I'm glad to see you're doing better, Iida. And I'm going to do my best to get better so I can keep you safe next time."

"I extend the same to you," Iida smiles warmly and the scar doesn't look quite so bad. "Your determination is admirable but please try not to overdo it. You look like you're about to fall over, Midoriya, please sit down."

XxX

"How's the lad doing?" Torino asks his former student as they sit on a couple of plastic chairs and watch the boy wrestle with a few large pieces of sheet metal. It's just as entertaining as it had been during the internship.

"He's making real good progress. I'm quite impressed given the time constraints we have," Toshinori says with a dopey, proud smile. Torino almost rolls his eyes, Toshinori always was a sap.

"This would go faster if I had some help!" The kid yells back as he throws one of the pieces of metal in the dumpster. He's shaky and sweaty and looks about ready to fall over.

"But then you wouldn't get the experience, would you?" Toshinori teases, seemingly not noticing the boy's haggard state. Torino sighs as he digs into the cooler next to him for some water. Is he really surprised that Mr. Go Beyond isn't noticing his student's limits? It's because of that attitude Toshinori needs a successor in the first place.

"You're both wrong. Here, catch kid," Torino says, tossing the water bottle to the boy. Midoriya doesn't even come close to catching it but he dusts off the sand and gulps half the thing down before sinking to the ground.

"Don't listen to muscle head over here or you'll end up just like him. You're doing just fine at the rate you're going so don't worry about it. You've got school in an hour so don't overburden yourself." He says even as he glares at Toshinori. The fool at least has enough sense.

"I'm trying," Midoriya moans, not noticing the silent exchange. "I know I need to expand my boundaries but I'm hurting all over."

"That means we're getting somewhere, kid," Torino says. "And this ain't just to improve your strength. One For All packs quite a punch. If your body ain't strong enough to handle it, it could blow you all to pieces."

"It what!?" the boy squeaks, hugging himself.

"Don't scare my successor away so soon," Toshinori grumbles. "It will be fine, my boy, don't worry. That's why we're out here training. So you better get back to it," Torino glares at him. "Er uh after you've had a bit of a rest that is."

XxX

"Young Midoriya, would you care to have lunch together?" Toshinori asks with a smile, holding up his bento.

"No way man, lunch with All Might!" Young Kirishima says, clapping him on the back. "Catch us up later, just don't fall asleep like you did in 4th period!" He says, waving Young Midoriya goodbye as he continues down the hall.

"Is there something you need?" Young Midoriya asks with a tired expression. The training is clearly wearing on him, in addition to a full schoolday and whatever Aizawa is doing with him in the afternoon. But the boy hasn't asked to slow down yet and already Toshinori can see some improvement in his physique.

"No, no, I just thought we could talk for a bit," Toshinori says cheerily to cover his anxiety. "There are some things you need to be made aware of before we continue any further."

"Alright," the boy smiles as he follows Toshinori to their normal room. Young Midoriya puts so much faith in him, it's empowering but also terrifying. The boy has no idea just what he's getting involved in and it's about time he learned.

Toshinori lets them settle in the room and they make lighthearted conversation as they eat their lunches. He's a bit worried to see the young man quickly downing an energy drink before doing the same with his coffee but he supposes that's normal for kids these days.

"My boy," Toshinori begins slowly, during a break in the conversation. "There's something you should know about One For All, should you take it. This power, it's not normal and it's got a long history behind it. You need to know about All For One." And so he lays out the whole sordid tale just as Nana had a long, long time ago. Young Midoriya listens with rapt attention, occasionally nodding or humming as he's told of the bloodied legacy he is to inherit.

"- I thought I'd managed to end All For One years ago but we suspect that the League of Villains is just a cover to hide himself. I'm sorry it's come to this but you need to be prepared to face him, sooner rather than later, if you accept this power. I know it's a lot, my boy, but you deserved to know."

"I understand," Young Midoriya says somberly. "I'll be ready if that happens."

"It's a bit more serious than that, I'm afraid." Toshinori says as he unbuttons his jacket and pulls up his too big dress shirt. Young Midoriya gasps as Toshinori reveals the ugly scarring on his torso.

"It's not pretty, is it?" Toshinori chuckles weakly. "That last battle I mentioned, All For One wasn't the only one to take a few hits. It nearly put me down for good, it's why I look like I do. I've had my stomach and one of my lungs removed. Pretty soon, One For All will be too much for me to handle, hence, my need for a successor."

"You couldn't let the villains see you as weak," Young Midoriya mutters with wide eyes, "that's why no one knows."

"I was the Symbol of Peace," Toshinori says as puts himself back in order. "It was my duty to ensure the safety of the public. And soon, it will be your turn. But I want you to remember that there are real stakes involved here. All For One isn't someone to take lightly and I don't-I don't want to see you make my mistakes." If his student was ever hurt because of him...

"I do understand and scars don't scare me," Young Midoriya says as he rolls up his pant leg and reveals the mark given to him by Shigaraki. It's an ugly thing, rough and discolored. That's not even counting the scars he obtained during the Sports Festival and his fight with Stain. It pains him that boy is collecting such things at such a young age. "I'll be careful. As long as you're by my side, I'll get a handle of this quirk and make you proud."

Toshinori smiles but all he wants to do is apologize. He ought to tell the boy about his latest doctor's appointment, about the way his body is steadily failing him. He should prepare the boy for the reality in which, sooner rather than later, Toshinori follows his master. He'd give anything for more time but mistakes have a way of catching up at inconvenient times. All he can hope is that he'll be enough, here and now, to prepare the boy for the inevitable.

"Thank you, my boy, but you don't need to worry. I'm already proud of you."

XxX

"What the hell have you been doing with that boy?" Shouta shouts as Yagi hunches his shoulders. The older hero has the sense to look abashed as he glances over at Midoriya who's still out cold. "You were supposed to catch him up, not kill him!" Shouta says through gritted teeth.

Despite what others may claim, Shouta is not as indifferent as he appears.

He'd had to have been blind not to see Midoriya get steadily more exhausted once he started his training with All Might. With a whole class to manage, Shouta had made the mistake of assuming everything was alright right until the boy collapsed during this afternoon's training. It's been fifteen minutes and the kid hasn't so much as twitched from Recovery Girl's bed.

"Young Midoriya is very spirited, I asked him several times if he needed to slow down but he always seemed so eager to continue." Yagi says, looking down and playing with his fingers. This man is going to give Shouta an aneurysm one of these days.

"The same boy who confronted a serial killer, who spat in the face of every person who's tried to keep him down?" Shouta asks in a deadly calm voice. "He's 15 and he practically worships you. He'd break all his bones if he thought it would please you. It's your job," he says poking the man's thin chest, "to know his limits and make sure he doesn't go beyond them. I cannot believe Nedzu trusted the boy in your care when you clearly have no idea what you're doing."

"Calm down, Aizawa," Recovery Girl says as she steps back into the room. "Yes, Toshinori is a novice teacher and a fool but it seems this isn't entirely his fault. I just got off the phone with the boy's martial arts teacher. It seems that, despite what the young man told us, he was still keeping up with his biweekly sessions. Rikimaru-san said he'd noticed Midoriya's exhaustion but had no idea the young man had picked up extra training." She gives a wry smile, "We've been had, gentlemen."

"But he told me he'd stopped," Yagi protests weakly, looking over at the pale boy on the bed.

"I'm going to kill him," Shouta says, looking up at the ceiling. He'd been under the impression that, without a quirk, Midoriya would be one of his easier students. If only he could go back in time and slap himself across the face for not noticing the obvious reckless streak in the boy. Was it too late to return him to General Education? No, no he'd already threatened to leave the school and heavens knows another hero school wouldn't be able to control him.

"That would be counter-productive," Recovery Girl smiles, looking entirely too amused. "Let this be a lesson to all of us. Midoriya is not above trickery to get what he wants and he's got an alarming lack of concern for his own well-being. Toshinori, I know you want what's best for the boy so you need to make sure he doesn't emulate your bad habits if this is going to work." The doctor says, giving Yagi a meaningful look that Shouta can't even begin to decipher.

"If this happens again, I'm taking him away from you, I don't care what the Principal says." Shouta growls, putting his finger right in Yagi's face. "Now I have 19 very distressed students to calm, not to mention trying to salvage some part of this day." He turns and stalks towards the door, "Recovery Girl, would you please forward me the information on Midoriya's master. I need to make sure he's up to date on what's going on so the kid doesn't sneak around us again."

"I will and tell the children that their friend will be fine, he just needs rest is all," Recovery Girl answers. "And don't be so rough on him when he wakes up. I can recall another Gen Ed transfer student who pushed himself a little too hard to prove he was good enough."

Of course she had to bring that up. Shouta grunts in response as he leaves the room but once the door closes he can hear Yagi and Recovery Girl furiously whispering to one another. There's something else going on here but he has no idea what. Well they can have their secrets for now but so help him if Midoriya ends up suffering again due to Yagi's negligence then Shouta will have to take action.

XxX

"You. Are. Supposed. To. Be. Smarter. Than. This," Daiki says, smacking his most aggravating martial arts student on the head with a rolled up newspaper.

He'd known something was wrong when the boy was showing clear signs of overexertion but he'd forgotten how good Midoriya was at deflecting and putting up appearances. It was only when he'd gotten a call from Yuuei's doctor and later the kid's homeroom teacher did he regret not pushing the issue. Once more, he'd underestimated Midoriya's sheer stubbornness.

"I'm sorry Rikimaru-shishou, I-" Midoriya begins to explain but Daiki cuts him off with another smack on the head.

"I don't want to hear it! How many times do we have to go over this? Overtraining makes you sloppy. After that stunt you pulled with the newspapers you gotta keep your guard up!" He says, swatting the kid on the head a few more times before throwing the paper off to the side.

"I thought I could handle it," Midoriya mutters, rubbing at his head. "I thought if I managed my time and energy, I could keep up with it all." Daiki rubs at his eyes. Only Midoriya would think he'd be able to balance three highly intensive training schedules without anyone knowing. He'll never breathe a word to the kid but it's impressive as hell Midoriya was able to keep up the charade for two whole weeks.

"And how did that work out for you?" Daiki asks sarcastically and watches his student drop his head in shame. He sighs, well that's enough recrimination for today. "I can't believe you wanted to keep coming here. If the Number One himself offered to personally train me, I wouldn't have even bothered with a goodbye."

"But I don't want to stop," Midoriya insists with a stubborn pout. "I love it here, you've taught me so much about martial arts and about myself and I wanted to keep learning as long as I could." The boy's shoulders slumped. "But even if I wanted to, Aizawa-sensei and All Might are making me stop."

"Hey kid," Daiki says kneeling down to Midoriya's level where the young man has a frustrated set to his brow, so different from the boy who first came to him with tears in his eyes.

Never in a million years could he have predicted how far this boy would go when he'd first entered the Dojo or how much the kid would end up growing on him. "I get it. This is an opportunity you can't pass up, a chance to make real progress with your dream. You need to focus on that and, if your schedule ever frees up, you're always welcome to drop by for a quick spar."

"Okay, I will," Midoriya sighs. "So what will you do when you're no longer teaching me?"

"I'll find something; a few others have graduated so probably pick up a new student or two," there's a look in Midoriya's eyes that promises mischief. "This doesn't have to do with the kid who's sitting in the waiting room, does it?" Daiki asks dryly, despite knowing the answer.

"Shinsou! Come on in!" Midoriya calls as a tall, purple haired boy shyly steps into the room. Daiki has seen the kid before when Midoriya's dragged his friends over a few times to train. In fact, he's pretty sure his student beat him in the Sports Festival. "This is Shinsou Hitoshi, he's a good friend of mine from Gen Ed. He's got an amazing brainwashing quirk but the heroes won't take him seriously unless he's better trained."

"I see, thank you for your input but what does your friend have to say?" Daiki asks, looking the kid up and down. He doesn't look like much and Daiki can tell from the boy's stance that he doesn't have any significant fighting experience. Then again, neither did Midoriya at the start.

"I uh," Shinsou begins slowly before steeling himself. "I know I don't have much going for me right now. But I can tell you I've got a better chance than Midoriya did when he first started training," his student squawks at that but Shinsou continues. "I spent a lot of time being angry for not having the right quirk but now I'm determined to make it work for me. I'm not as crazy as Midoriya but I can say that I will give everything I can to become a hero. I won't let a quirkless idiot show me up for too long."

"Another great introduction," Daiki laughs as Midoriya playfully shoves his friend. "Midoriya got down on his knees and cried but I like your honesty. Be here Wednesdays and Thursdays after class and we'll see if you've got what it takes." Shinsou, his new student, grins and Daiki can tell that it's an expression his face isn't used to.

It's always bittersweet to see students move on but Midoriya has more than earned his right to stand alongside the country's greatest heroes. He will admit Midoriya has a keen eye for talent. Maybe he's looking at another future hero student. After all, if the quirkless kid could fight his way to the very top, then who's to say that anything is impossible?

XxX

"Woah, take it easy, Midoriya," Eijiro says, holding up his hands. "You don't want to exhaust yourself again." Midoriya looks at him with a wild glint in his eye and it's like looking into a hurricane. Maybe he really does have a quirk and it's being a terrifying badass.

"I'm fine, I can keep going," Midoriya says, tightening his grip on his staff. "I'm not weak, I can handle it."

"Dude," Eijiro says, gently stepping forward, making sure to make no sudden movements. "No one's calling you weak, you just tore through half the class," he says, gesturing to where several of his classmates are nursing scrapes and bruises. "We're just worried you're gonna burn out again, it was pretty scary seeing you collapse the other day."

"I cut my training schedule so it won't happen again," Midoriya says but his tone is softer and he lowers his staff a bit. "But I'm sorry I worried you guys, I just can't help feeling like I'm so far behind. I need to get stronger and I need to do it fast."

"Why are you in such a hurry?" Uraraka asks from the sidelines. "We have three years to train and become better heroes. I think you're doing just fine the way you are."

"I agree," Iida says, chopping with his good hand. "Your strength and determination is as admirable as it is inspiring but overdoing it will only hurt you in the long run. We ask you to be cautious not because we think less of you but because we want you to be healthy enough to reach your full potential."

"I understand that, it's just," Midoriya takes a deep breath and looks off to the side where Aizawa is lecturing All Might on something or other. Probably still yelling at him for going too hard on Midoriya. The Number One looks sheepish but is taking quick notes in a tiny notebook. "I have somewhere I want to reach and if I don't get better now, I'll never get there."

Not for the first time, Eijiro is just in awe of the ambition that flows through Midoriya. If he's reading between the lines correctly, than Midoriya is reaching not just to graduate as a hero but to grab the Number One spot as well. Bakugou's got the same dream, but it's easier for him with his incredibly powerful quirk. Midoriya will have a much tougher time but damn if Eijiro doesn't believe he can do it.

"I getcha and we'll help you get there, don't worry, just be sure not to over do it again and spend some time with us mere mortals. Uraraka's right, we have time, let's enjoy being kids while we can. Let's hang out after school, I'll treat you to some mochi."

"I'd love to but um," Midoriya grins sheepishly, "All Might's got this intense schedule planned out and I really need to keep at it. Soon, I promise, I just really can't right now."

"Boo, All Might would totally give you an afternoon off if you asked," Uraraka whines, sticking her tongue out at Midoriya.

"Uraraka, we must respect Midoriya's choices," Iida says as he adjusts his classes. "Just keep in mind that All Might is a novice teacher who does not understand normal limits. If his schedule is too much for you, please have the sense to tell him so."

"What Iida means is that if All Might kills you with his training, ribbit, then Aizawa-sensei will kill him," Tsuyu adds causing the whole group to crack up.

XxX

"Amazing job, my boy! You've been coming and working on your own time, haven't you?" All Might beams and Izuku gives a lopsided grin from the ground where he's taking a break from his little project. It's nowhere near clean, that would take months, but he's made some good progress. Plus he's finally starting to see the results as he stretches out his now much more muscular arms. "I uh trust you're not pushing yourself, I don't need Aizawa in my face again anytime soon."

"Don't worry, I won't overdo it again," Izuku says sheepishly. He doesn't want to get yelled at again but he's been feeling especially antsy lately. Moving trash around has been helpful at clearing his head. He's got an awful lot to think about with final exams and... everything else coming up. "But don't worry, I'm still giving this all I have."

"I can tell, your efforts these past few weeks really have made me certain I've made the right choice." All Might grins before he suddenly changes forms and coughes hoarsely into his fist, wheezing in a painful sounding way. Izuku isn't sure he's ever going to get used to seeing his idol so vulnerable. All Might gently falls down next to him, facing the setting sun.

"Thank you, I'm trying real hard to be a good vessel. I uh know it's been hard on you, having to carry the quirk with your injury and I'll get there soon so you won't have to strain yourself anymore," Izuku says awkwardly. He's felt bad for taking so long and all the lectures about not overworking himself can't compete against the guilt of watching All Might waste away right in front of him.

"Oh, my boy," All Might says, gently patting Izuku's hand. "Is that why you've been pushing yourself so hard? Please don't worry about that, I appreciate the care but this old man doesn't want to see you getting hurt. You're almost ready to receive One For All so just take it easy."

His gnarled hand stays on Izuku's for a few extra moments before pulling back and it's nice. It's comforting, his presence and it's more than just the fact that this man has been his hero since childhood. Izuku doesn't remember his father, but he imagines this is sort of how the relationship is supposed to work.

"I know, I just want to do this right. This is an incredible opportunity you've given me and I can't help but wonder if I'm really the best candidate. But I," Izuku looks down at his callused hands. "I want to stop thinking like that and instead imagine all the ways I can use it to be the best hero I can."

"That's a good attitude to have, young man," All Might says as he settles more comfortably in the sand. "If it helps any, you've already become something of my hero." Izuku looks over at All Might with wide eyes while the man stares dreamily off into the horizon.

"I was in a bad place when we first met last year. I was tired and in pain and struggling to find hope as my body and spirit lost it's vitality." He glances over at Izuku, "You reminded me why I wanted to become a hero, back when I was about your age. You gave me back something I thought I'd never have again. I know it hasn't been very long but being around you, it makes me happy."

"Wow," Izuku says hoarsely. All Might chuckles and gently ruffles his hair.

"I thought I told you to stop crying all the time," the pro says warmly. "It's not becoming of a young hero."

"I can't help it when you say things like that," Izuku counters with a watery smile while All Might stops ruffling his hair. They sit for a minute in companionable silence before Izuku ducks his head and looks at his hero out of the corner of his eyes. "All Might?"

"Yes, my boy?"

"Do you uh do you think I'm cheating, accepting this quirk?" He asks almost too quietly to be heard. He can feel the hero turning to face him but Izuku keeps his eyes trained on the sand. "I mean, does this invalidate everything I did before? I worked so hard to get into Yuuei, into Heroics but does One For All take away from that?"

"Do you think it does?" All Might asks softly, Izuku just shrugs. "If you're not comfortable with this, Young Midoriya, I'm not going to force the quirk on you."

"I know that and I still want it but," Izuku groans and bends over further while anxiously ruffling his hair. "I had this idea in my head of what kind of hero I wanted to be. I wanted to be an example to people everywhere who have been told their whole life that they're worthless. I wanted to be proof that change was possible, that we didn't need to stay in the boxes society put us in. One For All..." he trails off awkwardly, unable to find the words to describe his feelings.

"One For All complicates things," All Might finishes, draping an arm around Izuku's shoulder. "In the end, all I can say is that, quirk or no, you're still you. You still went through all those experiences, still struggled and suffered. It's going to be different with a quirk, I can't lie about that, but that doesn't mean your old dreams are gone. Either way you have the ability to effect great change as my successor"

"Yeah, but I can do more with a quirk" Izuku sighs and sits back up so he can look at the setting sun.

"Still having second thoughts?" His hero questions.

"Always, I don't think that will ever go away." Izuku balances on his fist watching the colors of the sky fade out as he looks into the future. "But then I think of all the people I'll be able to save with your power, how much louder I'll be spreading my message. It's not perfect but I'll be a better hero and I can't turn my back on that now that it's an option."

"You're going to be amazing," All Might grins. "You're going to surpass me and I'll be helping you get there for as long as I'm able." Izuku's heart clenches at the quiet reminder of his hero's ill health.

"I'll always need you," Izuku mutters, scooting a little closer and leaning on All Might's shoulder. "Not just for One For All, but for things like this."

"Then I'll just have to do my best to stick around for a while, won't I?" All Might says and the two of them lapse into comfortable silence as they watch the sun slowly rise in the sky. Things are going to change very soon and Izuku is scared and wondering if he's ready. But for now, Izuku thinks it's alright for them to simply sit on the beach and enjoy each other's company.

#fic: the long way around #boku no hero academia #bnha fics #bnha

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douglashonorscollege · 3 years

Text

Cli-fi #5

short story by Piper Rutzer ⌂

People were always under surveillance, being questioned, prodded at random by the government. Aliens. Where were they—the government wanted to know. Aliens and global warming go hand in hand. It was not that long ago that the Alien Duck Incident caused mass destruction across the globe. The first known alien spaceship to visit earth had been fueled by some sort of gas that released far too much carbon into the atmosphere for our planet to handle.

Little ice bears in some areas were left almost ice-less, sea level was elevated, cities were wiped out. The world was immediately in uproar. Scientists, over time, linked the catastrophic events to the foreign fumes left in the atmosphere from the alien ducks. It was only after that incident that scientists had really begun to investigate earlier historical claims about so-called “global warming.” Studies, extensive research, new testing techniques all accumulated over some time. Fear of global warming and incognito alien ducks, whose families may return with more destructive gasses, resembled the era of the Red Scare in America. The difference, however, was this fear plagued all the nations, as all were susceptible to the consequences of the alien emissions. Steps were taken to combat the threat.

That’s why we now live in this militant, desolate society. The nation needed something to throw its energy at when emotions ran high during the catastrophe. Rather than using that vigor to work on solutions to reduce carbon emissions, the nations of the world decided to expend their energy fight this novel, new enemy. Soldiers were deployed, institutions set up to identify the enemies among us. All while Mother Earth continued to rot. Our new way of life can all be linked to that one incident back in 2016 and the girl who called the aliens to us. Her story, as I’ve heard it, is told like this:

Piper always seemed a little off, always doing and saying peculiar, bold, out-of-the-ordinary things. However, the stunt she pulled the day of her school’s Poetry Out Loud competition was something no one saw coming. Everyone had sat there, unsure of what to do.

Yes, quite an odd duck, indeed, she was—odd in the sense that she would have nothing to do with social norms. Expectations and appropriate behaviors had never been something to adhere to, yet she simply would not comply with social etiquette. There were days she would sit on the floor through every class. Of course, the teachers would make a fuss, demand that she sit in her seat, but after two years of these antics, they eventually stopped threatening to send her to the principal. Other days, she would stroll from one pod to the other, attempting to sing orchestral songs the entire way.

Loudly, “duh duh duh duh!

More softly now, “duh duh duh duh.”

With rejuvenated enthusiasm, “DUH DUH DUH DUH DUH DUN!”

Early in the morning, Piper could often be found talking to herself and the ducks that visited the school each day. Sitting outside in the freezing morning air admiring and talking to the ducks as if she was from another planet was part of her school-week routine. Josh Millerman would always have to yell from across the soccer field the first insult that came to his little pea brain. Freak, weirdo, alien, spaz. These, and others like them, were the words that echoed across the field, scaring the ducks into the foggy sky. Once the ducks had all gone their own way, Piper would saunter back to the classroom, always seeming a little glum. She seemed, in a way, a little homesick.

Homesick?

She had just gotten to her first period class. Today Piper had walked in late. The teacher was already discussing their next big assignment.

“This is an important competition, which will be a large part of your overall grade. This is poetry people! What does that mean?!”

The students stared blankly with no reply. After a period of silence, one of them meekly raised their hand to offer a suggestion, then rapidly pulled it back down just before the English teacher could see it.

“It meanssss we are aiming for elegance! For passion! We're aiming for feeling. In order to move the judges, because there will be judges scoring your performance, you must be expressive—expressive in your voice, expressive in your gestures, expressive in your everything. However, don’t move around too much or have too many gestures or use over the top facial expressions. Also, you're not allowed to move your feet. But have fun with it, just, contained fun. You know what I’m saying?”

Everyone that was listening nodded their head. A month would be allotted to the students to prepare for their final big assignment. The competition would be a month before the end of the school year, and none of the students were motivated to take on a big performance when the rest of the year had already exhausted them of all their academic energy. Piper, however, sat at the back of the class, teeming with excitement. As Millerman watched her from across the room, he felt he could almost see the smoke coming out of her head. The gears were turning in the freak’s head, and he wondered what exactly was it that she was thinking.

He, for two years now, had been one of the winning competitors for the school and had even gone on to nationals once. If the freak thought she had any chance at winning, he thought, she was sorely mistaken. Though he would not admit it, even to himself, Josh Millerman felt threatened.

Thinking back to his first year of Poetry Out Loud, Josh remembered the feeling of the liquid fear running through his veins as he scrambled through the neurons in his brain to remember his next line as the judges marked down his score sheet. The words had left him. He had worked so hard that entire month just for what? To forget the next half of his poem? A subsequent thought was this: what would his mother do when he she found out about the competition? His father, an obedient, quiet man would probably only give him a sympathetic shrug and a hand on the shoulder. His mother, however, would have a heyday with this one. Josh was expected to do his best, but if his best was not good enough, he was told to “do the best of somebody better.” Winning this competition was crucial for surviving another day in his house.

The countdown until the competition flew by. Each morning now since the day their big assignment was introduced, Josh always saw Piper doing some sort of... dance was it? Some sort of something on the soccer field amongst the ducks. She looked as if she was doing a little choreography for the poultry. What was odder was the attention the ducks gave to Piper. They sat huddled in almost a semi-circle as they watched her move about. Their heads seemed to follow her back and forth, up and around. When Josh would yell to her, his voice crowding the whole field, the ducks did not leave.

Madness! Her behavior was madness! The ducks were madness! She was madness! Josh’s anger had gotten the better of him one morning, and he stomped across the frosted field to confront Piper.

“What are you doing out here?! Every morning! Every morning you're out here with these ducks, talking, sitting, watching! And now you’re dancing for them? Dancing? Seriously? You are weird, and I want to know why.” Josh’s chest heaved.

“I’m practicing for Poetry Out Loud. I ask them for help. I need to get it right.” She said with serene neutrality.

Not in the least bit did she seem taken back by Millerman’s words and anger. However, he was then taken back by her utter lack of emotion. Saunter as she did to class.

Entering as a pale ghost, Josh took his seat, the teacher scolding him for being late the day of the competition.

He was first up:

“Blue birds sing in the morning. They continue throughout the day. And I take a seat to wonder What they might be trying to say. I hear them all the time. They seem to call my name. On and on and on and on. Their song is always the same. Blue birds sing in the morning They continue til my final day And at last I understand What they were trying to say.”

A poem about blue birds and death delivered so beautifully and elegantly by Josh earned him top points in the competition. Everyone assumed this. After Josh, poem after poem was recited until, finally, it was Piper’s turn.

She walked quickly to the microphone. And then, with no warning, she began with a quack. Everyone laughed nervously. She then let out a more convincing, duck-like quack. The quacking went on, with Piper running to one side of the room, and then the other.

“Quack. Quack quack. Quack quack quack. Quack quack. Quack Quack. Quack quack quack quack. Quack.”

Students began to panic a little. Piper returned to the front of the class and spun and flapped and quacked, quacked and flapped. It was quite a scene. Scoring no longer, the judges left the room in a tizzy. Lights began flickering, the building shaking, and the beams coming through the windows were green. The performance looked more like a ritual, thought the students collectively as they sat too scared to run like the judges and the teacher had. As Piper continued, she began to transform. Feathers sprouted out of her body. Glass shot towards the front of the classroom as the side of a spaceship crashed through the back windows. Dozens upon dozens of ducks came sliding down the metallic outer panels of the ship through the broken windows. While the green and brown bodies flooded the room, no one had paid attention to the final stage of Piper’s transformation: she was now a majestic, two-foot tall duck. The ritual had simultaneously turned her into her true form and had also called her alien duck family back to her. They had all come back to congratulate her on the completion of her journey here on earth and bring her back home. The feathered bodies receded back through the windows. When the youth regained their ability to talk, think, and move, they all wandered into the hall without a second thought about where Piper had gone or about the fact Max Watne had not gotten the chance to give his poem. ∎

More on Piper ~ Minerva’s Owl Homepage

#journal #journal2021 #2021

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agirlinjapan · 6 years

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Red Data Girl: My Longest Day of School (Week 17)

Red Data Girl: My Longest Day of School By Noriko Ogiwara A Translation

Miss the last piece? Read it here!

Check out the RDG Translation twitter!

Sorry about the unintentional RDG break last week! Somehow, I convinced myself that it had only been a week since the last post so it wasn’t time to post another yet. From there, posting completely slipped my mind. (I did get a good 10 or so pages translated throughout the week though.) Regardless, here we are today, a week later. This whoopsie won’t affect the usual RDG schedule. I’ll be posting next Sunday as well so that things get back on the normal track and I make up for the missing week.

Translation notes:

I’m not quite sure why this is a thing, but there is a belief in Japan that people in France really, really like anime and manga--possibly more so than in other countries outside of Japan. I don’t know where or why this belief started. I mean, I know anime and manga are big in France, but they’re also big in the US and scores of other countries.

Sugoroku is an ancient Japanese game that is comparable (in one of its two forms) to backgammon.

Red Data Girl: My Longest Day of School By Noriko Ogiwara Chapter 3: Off Course Part 1 (2 of 2)

“Are you okay?”

Izumiko looked up in surprise to see two deep blue eyes peering into her face. The face looking at her was excessively flushed and its chin seemed to jut out further than it should have, but the eyes were entirely focused on Izumiko. The boy was dressed as a Catholic priest, but his gaze was firm.

“Do you feel bad? Are you anemic?”

“No, I’m fine.”

Izumiko blinked repeatedly, wondering in shock if she had lost consciousness for a moment.

What was I doing just now?... Oh, right. I was on the phone telling Miyuki he didn’t have to come…

She mentally checked herself over but found nothing wrong. Not one thing was off. She remembered falling under a spell, but now that seemed like it had just been in her imagination.

“Are you really alright? You always get so distressed when you see Claus,” Takayanagi/Shirou Amakusa said.

“Ah, um…”

Claus, who looked as big as a bear standing there next to Takayanagi, nodded, his expression remaining serious.

“That’s right. I think I scare you. We’ve never talked once.”

“I’m sorry…” Izumiko’s shoulders drooped. She was embarrassed of the prejudice she had been carrying. “I was raised in the mountains, so I’m not used to foreigners. I don’t really know how to talk with you…”

Claus offered a short response but the words were casually spoken in German so Izumiko couldn’t catch their meaning.

Takayanagi smiled and said, “Izumiko, you’re breaking out of your small world right now. If you get to know him better, I’m sure you’ll realize Claus is a good guy.”

“I’m Christian, but a modern Christian,” Claus said meaningfully. He put his rosary in his pocket. “There really aren’t any people in Europe who think non-Christians are devils. We’re not hundreds of years in the past. I can be good friends with people who identify as Shinto.”

“I’m not Shinto. I grew up at a shrine but my grandfather never told me I had to be serious about the religion or anything.”

Claus nodded happily at her hurried correction.

“Ah, in that case it’ll be even easier for us to be friends. Prejudice shows up when we don’t understand things. When I first came to Japan, I thought all Germans were Protestants. I was worried about that. But as individuals, people should be themselves.

Claus seems to be a caring person. I wonder why I thought he was scary… Izumiko thought in surprise.

She had always been afraid of large, strong looking boys. The situation now fell somewhat into that catagory. Claus certainly looked like a rugby player, but his gentle nature was revealing itself. She could feel her nervousness falling away.

“I think so, too. People should be themselves.”

“You should smile more,” Takayanagi said, good-naturedly. “It’s so much better to be happy.”

As he said this, Izumiko couldn’t help but realize how stiff her face must have looked to him. She probably always looked that way around the exchange students seeing as she didn’t know what to do with them. She felt differently now though.

I built a wall around myself. I shouldn’t do that though…

Her father, Daisei, had hoped that she would get a better understanding of the world away from the mountains. Even though there were plenty of foreign students for her to meet at the school, she hadn’t remembered her father’s words until now. Perhaps that had been due to her own views being too narrow.

“There are a lot of samurai and international characters in the offensive team’s army. There’s a girl participating too,” Takayanagi said, “Angelica’s image of what the Warring States era was like is a little too much like a manga or anime but I guess that’s because she’s French.”

“There are just as many fans of Japanese manga in Germany as there are in France,” Claus said firmly in response to his friend’s opinion.

“Ah, we have to go. If we chat through the judging, it’ll look like we were making some sort of deal over here. But Izumiko, come over and talk to me after the game is over,” Takayanagi said as he walked away. “Angelica’s a very interesting person, too.”

Izumiko relaxed her hold on the fence and headed towards the tent as well.

“…Okay,” Izumiko answered a bit shyly. There was no animosity in her voice. Surprisingly, she even felt a little better about the situation. “If there’s time.”

Who would have thought that it’s so easy to stop disliking someone when you didn’t even know you disliked them in the first place…

Up until now, Izumiko had accepted Mayura’s thoughts and beliefs without question no matter what. In other words, she had never come up with her own views about what Mayura told her.

…I’ve never thought about how narrow my viewpoint really is…

Izumiko already knew why Mayura Souda wanted to be the World Heritage Candidate. She worried about Manatsu who had the same heart defect as their brother Masumi who had died young. If it became possible that Manatsu might need a heart transplant, Mayura wanted to be in the best position imaginable to make sure he got one.

Izumiko respected her as a fiercely moral person whose concern for her sibling was touching. However, her intentions were undoubtedly for personal gain. Even Izumiko couldn’t argue that.

Mayura was a part of this now, but if Izumiko had been given a chance to do everything over, she wished she would have thought a little harder about it all.

What happens if Mayura loses?... Izumiko thought for the first time.

If Mayura lost, Izumiko would be heartbroken, but she would comfort her friend, she thought. Her views on the situation would only be somewhat changed and she would be able to talk to Mayura about the other girl’s feelings.

I’m capable of changing and adapting, Izumiko thought lightheartedly. I’m already changing and I’ll keep changing from here on. I can use a laptop and a cellphone now. Not as many things frighten me as there used to be. If things keep going this way, I’ll definitely be able to live life like a normal girl one day. I’ll be able to interact with everyone normally and I’ll be able to find a boyfriend just like anyone else.

Suddenly, Izumiko got the feeling that she was forgetting something important.

Huh?...

Her mind circled through possibilities but she couldn’t think of what it could be.

Well, she supposed it was alright.

The students, dressed in their Warring States era costumes, were starting to walk up the hill and find their teams. The competition grounds by the stables where the field games would be held were also going through their final preparations. Izumiko put her veil over her face and hurried back to Okouchi.

The beginning of the games arrived. The collective western and frontal forces, along with the collective eastern and defensive forces marched solemnly across the hill. They arrived at the stable’s competition grounds, creating a Y shape—the two sets of combined forces plus the game staff and observers who had gathered around the fence, waiting for them there. The impressive looking armies were greeted with applause.

With the multicolored flags, placards, and banners the soldiers on the hill were carrying, it was an impressive sight to be seen.

There was no unified feeling between the forces who had just come together, but all four of the armies’ enthusiasm was entertaining. Class 1-C was a part of the frontal attack team and they were carrying their “Winds of Change” banner. Izumiko clapped for them.

The generals came after the flag bearers. Seeing as it had been decided that the horses would not be brought out that day, everyone was walking. Still, the shine of the generals’ helmets with their tall decorations and the bright colors of all the armor drew a lot of attention.

“Wow…” Okouchi, who was standing next to Izumiko as they watched the procession, murmured all of a sudden.

When Izumiko turned to look at him, she saw that his gaze was fixed on the frontal attack team’s general.

“Amazing, wouldn’t you say?” Okouchi asked.

“Yeah, amazing,” Izumiko said, sounding much like Hayakawa when he was pretending to have heard something. She turned her eyes in the same direction as Okouchi’s.

The general was a blonde young woman.

…That’s Angelica.

She recalled how Karin had said Angelica looked like a china doll. Perhaps because of this, Izumiko had been imagining the blonde as doll-like and delicate. This wasn’t the case at all though.

Angelica was nothing like a doll. Izumiko got the impression that she was overflowing with energy. She was cat-like—a lioness perhaps.

The armor she was wearing was probably supposed to be from the Warring States era but it was covered in decorations. Izumiko felt like she could finally picture what Mayura had meant by a game design costume.

It wasn’t that Angelica was scantily clad. Not much of her skin was exposed. However, the truth was that her figure was quite evident beneath her outfit.

The difference between a Japanese build and the build of other nationalities was clear to be seen. Angelica had wide hips and while her face was small, her facial features were still sharply defined. She had an ample chest for a high schooler. Izumiko found herself staring unintentionally as well.

“I’m sorry to do this,” Okouchi said suddenly.

Izumiko turned back to look at him.

“Izumiko, let’s switch which part of the games we’re in charge of. Can you judge the board game for me? I think you’ll be fair about it.”

“Okay…”

Izumiko didn’t immediately protest, but it was obvious to guess the real reason why Okouchi had made the decision he had. At some point in time, Angelica had probably chewed him out for something he had done or said. It was very much like Okouchi to find a reason to be far away from where she was.

The battle, which a large amount of students would be participating in on the field, was made up of sports day events that everyone knew. There would be three legged races, egg-spoon relays, bread eating contests, and so on. There was no one participating who didn’t know the rules.

Due to this, Izumiko felt comfortable judging the games. However, the generals’ game of wit was a different story. She transferred her clipboard from one hand to the other and flusteredly flipped through the papers there.

“I’ve never seen the game played before now though. Um… it’s backgammon, right?”

“The rules are easy to understand so you’ll be fine judging it the first time you see it. You use two dice. You can only move the piece as much as you roll, so all you have to do is count the players’ moves with them. There’s not much deception in backgammon. It’s basically sugoroku.”

Izumiko watched as Okouchi showed her how to place the pieces at the beginning of the game but the round, black and white pieces lined up on the board with its long, narrow triangular shapes meant nothing to her.

“There used to be pictures on the sugoroku boards but these days there aren’t.” Okouchi let out a short laugh. “It’s hard to believe, but backgammon’s actually the older game. We chose it because the students are less familiar with it, but it’s well-known all over the world, and it’s got a long history to it. They even played it in ancient Egypt. It came to Japan during the Asuka or Nara era. It turned into a gambling game and the government cracked down on it. It was popular with the noblemen of the Heian era, too. In a way, sugoroku as we know it now with a game board came from backgammon. The version of sugoroku that you play with picture cards is a version that people play just for fun, not for gambling purposes.”

The explanation made Izumiko blink.

“Now that I think of it, there was a scene in The Pillow Book with sugoroku in it, too. The noblemen were obsessed with the dice game. I wondered why they were all so weirdly preoccupied with it.”

Okouchi nodded solemnly.

“Gambling is a serious matter, I suppose. When you get doubles in sugoroku, you can move more than one of your pieces. Everything changes in an instant if you can get your pieces into the last six board spaces, though. It’s a game that requires both luck and skill.”

“But I wouldn’t think a gambling game would make sense as a game for Warring States era generals,” Izumiko said in interest.

“Chess and shogi take up too much time. And playing current card games may have been unfair to the players who usually don’t get into things like that. The present day backgammon was reintroduced to Japan during the Warring States era. It was the game that made the most sense.”

Izumiko’s interest had been peaked. She wanted to see Angelica as well as the backgammon game up close.

I’ll do what I’ve been told to do. After all, I’m one of the kuroko in black who are supposed to be supporting the games from the shadows…

Izumiko walked away from the tent in the field and towards the area where the commanders—the so called military officers under the generals and the two teams’ generals themselves—would be playing their games.

Despite the way the team commanders were dressed and the fact that they were not participating in any of the active sports day events, they were quite similar to cheerleaders. They stood in front of their teams, leading cheers. The place where the commanders would be facing off against each other had been prepared in an open space beyond the fences where the spectators would easily see them.

It was true that Takayanagi was heading the frontal attack team, but his shikigami were nowhere to be seen. Izumiko turned her head left and right, looking for them as she walked around the horse enclosure.

None of her classmates from 1-C had been chosen to become commanders in today’s games. Unsurprisingly, most of the generals who had been selected were second years. The boys and girls holding “Overthrow the Upper Class” banners were all gathered together in the rear attack team, laughing and seemingly enjoying themselves. Izumiko, who wasn’t good with competitions, didn’t think she wanted to participate as well, but she was a little envious of their tightknit team spirit.

As she watched her classmates, her vision suddenly blurred and the activities surrounding the horse enclosure moved out of focus.

Izumiko blinked quickly, trying to regain her sight. The blurred spectacle immediately corrected itself, but she had the unsettling feeling that it might happen again.

What’s going on?...

She had a very bad feeling about whatever it was. However, she couldn’t quite put her finger on what was wrong. Instead, it was a strangely troubling sensation.

… Maybe it’s because I haven’t gotten much sleep in the past two nights. Izumiko considered, thinking it over.

All the same, she had to keep moving today. It was an important day, after all.

Huh?...

She looked around the horse enclosure again. Izumiko felt like there was something in the area that required her attention, but she couldn’t recall what it was. That had to be the origin of the strange feeling she was having.

Izumiko stopped walking, but then she reconsidered and began again.

She had promised that she would get through the morning without doing anything unnecessary or drawing attention to herself.

However, she couldn’t remember who she had made that promise to.

The large, rectangular backgammon board had been set out on a table with two stools on either side, facing each other.

The stools, which the armored players would sit on, were old. They certainly matched their surroundings, but they didn’t look particularly comfortable.

Eventually, the commanders finished their cheers and shuffled in. The generals of the front and side forces moved forward and sat down on the uncomfortable looking stools. The remaining commanders lined up around the board as if surrounding the players.

Shibata, one of the second years from the student government, arrived to act as a referee. He would take responsibility for the game while Izumiko moved to the side and kept score on a whiteboard. Tamura, another one of the first years, would then act as a liaison between her and Okouchi.

Shibata cleared his throat.

“Alright,” he said, using a wireless microphone to project his voice around the group. “Until the field battle is over, we will be having a backgammon competition. The points you score for your team will go into the final decision that determines which team will proceed on to attack the castle.”

Shibata then announced the game rules and other pertinent information that the players would need. After that, the game began.

There were quite a number of onlookers surrounding the generals and their commanders. Rather than being interested in backgammon, there were many more people interested in the costumes the players were wearing. It was clear to see that a large reason for this was Angelica’s presence. There were quite a few cameras pointed in her direction.

Angelica smiled towards the people with the cameras. It would have been strange for her to ignore them, seeing as she appeared to be enjoying her costume.

When Izumiko took a closer look at the girl, she saw that Angelica’s brown, crescent moon shaped eyebrows looked like something that belonged on an antique doll. Karin had not been lying. Angelica’s blue eyes were also large and deep set. Unlike Claus’s deep blue shade though, hers were a paler blue.

Angelica was certainly an attractive girl. However, Izumiko could not decide if that made her beautiful. She got the feeling that there was something treacherous about Angelica.

Angelica was standing next to Takayanagi behind the stool. She frequently turned to say things to him. Until then, Izumiko hadn’t noticed how tall she was. Standing next to Takayanagi though, it was clear to see that Angelica was taller than him. The armor she was wearing made her shoulders look broad as well. Seeing the two of them act so friendly with their heads bent so close to one another’s made them stand out, especially with Takayanagi’s aristocratic looks.

They look like they’re really close… Izumiko thought as she snuck a glance at them.

Obviously, Takayanagi had had a reason for bringing up Angelica’s name during their earlier conversation.

I wonder if she’d ever be that friendly with me…

She doubted Takayanagi would stop talking to Angelica, even if the game ended.

… I liked Claus right though. Strange…

Izumiko felt the need to shake her head clear. Up until now, she had barely spoken to boys at all. If she was being entirely frank, she had only ever felt comfortable speaking to her own gender. However, she felt like she would never be able to get along with Angelica.

It’s because she’s friends with Takayanagi… Maybe?

To her surprise, she found herself questioning her own thoughts.

She was in denial.

Keep reading!

#rdg #red data girl #rdg 5 week 17 #translation #rdg my longest day of school

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torestoreamends · 7 years

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Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Show Recap – Sunday May 21st

Note: This recap was written over several days, so please forgive the bizarre and inconsistent references to time.

What a bizarre, indescribable day. I think this is going to be more a recap of emotions (as I try to figure them out), but of course the cast gave us some beautiful and incredible moments too. I'll do my best to talk about everything I can, but as I say, it was a little indescribable, and I'm still not sure how I feel.

The start to the day was simply beautiful. It was warm and sunny and full of excitement. As I travelled into London I felt so connected with the rest of the fandom. I could feel us all converging, and it was electric. Everything felt perfect. Everything felt right. Everything was as I expected it to be.

But so much has happened since then then that all that feels like a lifetime ago. Walking in St James's Park was surely another day entirely? Meeting half the fandom in Pret to flail and eat sweets is just a distant memory. Did queueing to go in ever really happen? Because all that was before we read the cast board.

The thing that brings a cast change its magic usually is the full principle cast all saying goodbye to each other, both as their characters and as themselves. All the scenes take on multiple layers and new emotions, because they mean so much both to the actor and the character. These people, who have been cast together, rehearsed together, performed together, and established such strong bonds, as surrogate family and close friends, are all together for the last time, and it brings something so special and unique to the show. And that was what I expected to happen here. It was what I'd been looking forward to for months and months, but it wasn't what happened.

I took my photo of the cast board without reading it, and I posted it, also without reading it. We were all joking around, having fun, taking photos of each other taking photos of the board. And then someone actually looked at it, and there it was.

James Le Lacheur -- Scorpius Malfoy

It was shock. Shock and denial. Grief. A wash of overwhelming emotion. Because where was Anthony's name? Was the board wrong? What was happening?

I felt empty. I didn't know what to do with myself. Other people were inconsolably crying. I had to go and find hugs from five different people because this wasn't what I expected. It wasn't what I wanted. It felt like the heart of cast change had been ripped out.

I think at this moment that I should clarify that I had no problem with James. James's Scorpius is my favourite, genuinely. James herself is such an incredible, warm, lovely person, and her Scorpius brims over with the most incredible emotion, accompanied by technical brilliance and careful thought. My problem was that Anthony should have been there to say goodbye. I was worried it would spoil the day for Sam, for Alex, for really everyone. I was worried the atmosphere would be warped. And most of all I was so scared that something awful had happened to Anthony. The lack of information was horrendous, and there were all sorts of rumours flying around the theatre that only made it all worse.

When Act One started, I wasn't ready. I was still reeling. No one in the theatre saw Anthony's tweet until the interval, so I spent the whole of the first act with horrible thoughts about him being really sick, and worrying about how the other actors must feel. Every time Alex was on stage, every time Sam was on stage, every time James was on stage, all I could think about was the absence of Anthony. I couldn't focus on the show or hold onto any of the details. There were only a small handful scenes I really managed to enjoy, and only one I felt a real emotional connection to.

The opening was the moving part. The beginning of the end. Chris Jarman looked so emotional as he walked on, taking his time, and plucking the hat from the air to begin proceedings. Seeing Jeremy run round the suitcases for the final time was a truly special moment, and the energy of the cast was phenomenal.

The parts I managed to really enjoy were everything Cherrelle did (when she said 'and he's my cousin!' she said the 'and' so loudly and so high-pitched that she cracked herself up). She was really bringing it, and making the most of her final show. I also enjoyed the blanket scene, which was brimming with genuine emotion, especially the final few lines. There was something poignant about seeing Jamie and Sam, who've established such a connection, yelling that they didn't want to be each other's father and son anymore, when at the end of the day they would never again play Harry and Albus. And I also absolutely adored Jamie as Scorpius. He was absolutely tremendous, and the part where he was alone trying to solve the riddle was the only moment in the first act where I completely forgot Anthony's absence and was truly immersed in the story.

There were other great things that happened, but I barely remember any of them. I was desperate to focus, but I couldn't, and I hated that. At that point I was certain the day and this performance were doomed for me, and that I wouldn't manage to enjoy them at all. Everything I had been looking forward to for so long felt like it was falling apart.

But then the interval came, and we had some time to talk and digest, and I reminded myself that I actually prefer James's Act Two to Anthony's. I thought about all the wonderful things I had to enjoy. And the fact that Anthony had tweeted and was clearly alive and okay, and the fact that I'd already seen James on stage and could come to terms with everything, made it so much easier.

Act Two was probably the best one I've ever seen, and I had so much fun watching it. All the problems of Act One melted away into the distance, and I became fully immersed. It was a real delight to watch.

Harrison Noble as young Harry kicked Act Two off with an incredible bang. The fear from that boy while he was being terrorised by the phantom Voldemort was audible. I think he's the best of the young Harrys, he's certainly my favourite, and I think he's truly talented. You could hear the terror of his breathing, and you could see him really thinking through every one of the actions he made. It was simply brilliant.

Then, the moment the show really clarified for me, was the part where everyone is out searching the Forbidden Forest. That's one of the most beautiful parts of the show, and it was one of my favourites when I first saw it back last June, and I somehow managed to watch it as if for the first time. It looked new, and fresh, and beautiful, and I remembered why I love this play and this cast.

And then we reached the moment where Albus and Scorpius see Hogwarts through the trees at the edge of the Forest. I knew it would be an emotional scene. It's all about Hogwarts, and wanting to be there, and it's emotionally resonant with the fandom, and I could see how it would also be resonant with the actors who were leaving Hogwarts for the last time today. It definitely lived up to my expectations.

I think it's worth saying that Sam in this performance was completely incredible. The genuine, raw emotion, the vulnerability, the simplicity and honesty of so many of the lines. He really stole the show, and I think he got the chance to shine during his last performance in Anthony's absence. Sam is the sort of generous actor who gives everyone on stage with him their space and time, and that's something that Anthony doesn't need giving, hence why Sam can be overlooked (and has been by the media), but today perfectly encapsulated how incredible he is and how incredible he can be.

In this scene, the way he was looking at Scorpius, and listening to him was simply beautiful. He was so intent on him. You could see all the emotion passing across his face, as he found out all this new information about his friend. He was understanding Scorpius in a new and lovely way. This whole scene was wonderful.

After that we led straight into the first task scene, which was about as wild as I expected it to be. The ensemble were going for it to the extent that I found it impossible to look at Sam or James at all. I can't remember nearly all the things that happened, but there were people hiding behind one another from the dragons, Mackley shouted something to Fleur that I couldn't hear but was presumably terrible (it got a really big laugh from the stalls), Stuart put the Slytherin banner down when Harry was introduced because he didn't want them to be associated with supporting him. It was action packed, overwhelming, and really hilarious. The crowd scenes have always been a massive highlight with this cast, just because they have so much enthusiasm, energy, and excitement, and I'm going to miss the wild mess of activity they've become.

And then we were back in the second timeline, which was where the emotion really kicked in.

Sam's pained fainting was the best I've ever seen it, and he lay sprawled on the stage for so long after Albus's arm was broken, like he couldn't manage to haul himself up. He only got up in the end because he had to pretend to be okay in front of the adults.

There were a hilarious amount of new people in for this show, and I'm sure most of them had no idea what a special performance they were watching, but the bit about Ron and Padma got lots of little laughs from those people.

After that, James showed up and began turning our worlds upside down. When Scorpius reeled back from Albus, he sat on the stairs shaking his head and staring straight in front of him, like he couldn't believe what had happened. He didn't seem sad to start with, just in denial, which was even more heartbreaking.

The DADA scene was so painful. I don't think I've ever seen Noma do such an incredible performance throughout the play, and this was a real standout scene. She was radiating bitter, awful anger and sadness, and taking it all out on Albus who was just confused and miserable. When she threw him off his chair he just lay there again in a crumpled heap, and he had to drag himself up. And her final words about the Patronuses were gut wrenching. There were so many pauses and gaps, as Hermione struggled to explain all these emotions that she clearly couldn't imagine herself ever feeling anymore. But even in her pain, she was still strong and intimidating, pointing her wand directly at Albus with a shaking hand. She still has the Minister For Magic's authority, despite her broken heart.

I always forget that the staircase ballet comes straight after the DADA scene, and I was not prepared. I will never be prepared for what James does with this run of scenes. Scorpius was just completely shattered. There's a moment where he runs up one of the staircases and you can hear him sobbing, face dripping with tears. There are moments where he collapses onto the stairs in despair. And the moment when the two boys come face to face is heart-rending from both sides as they try to work out what to say, and Scorpius wants to run away but can't bring himself to leave Albus, and Albus tries to find the words to apologise but knows that it might jeopardise everything with his dad.

It was the final moment when they stand at the top of their separate staircases and stare at each other as they're pulled apart that was the worst. Albus's shoulders were slumped, and Scorpius just looked broken. He took a step forward, like he wanted to try and reach Albus, then he thought better of it and just stopped, presumably expecting to give Albus up for good.

One of my favourite things about the duel scene is the building, ominous background sound that begins when Harry says 'Are you sure, are you really sure he's yours?' You can hear the tension rising, and the imminence of the fight, and it's such a cool effect. It all finally bursts with the start of the duel, when a flashbulb goes off as the two Expelliarmuses collide and the fight music begins.

This was a pretty great duel. At the beginning, Jamie and Alex were flung so far apart by the people lifting them at the back that they both nearly flew off into the wings. I've never seen such an enthusiastic start to the duel before. And they were both giving it everything, flying around, having so much fun. That scene got a very well deserved round of applause. This is one of the scenes where I'll probably most miss Jamie and Alex, because they play it out so perfectly, and the characters of Harry and Draco most come shining through.

I've always loved the quiet heartbreak of the scene between Delphi and Scorpius, and I love how she twists and manipulates him. It feels like such a tender moment between the two, but there's so much underlying it. This was a particularly intimate version of the scene. Esther brought so much warmth and kindness to it, and on the surface it felt like she was being a mother or an older sister to Scorpius, listening to his problems and helping him figure things out, giving him advice. And Scorpius was just assuming that Albus's friend was there to help him. Just the mention of her being ill when she was younger wiped away all his critical thinking and mistrust, and it makes him so vulnerable. He reveals himself in that scene, in a way he doesn't much in the rest of the play, because it's all purely about him and his own problems and how upset he is, not about using those to get someone else on side with him.

I think it's very important to mention at this point that Alex Price does a spectacular job of taking not-funny lines and making them hilarious. At the end of the chat between Harry, Ginny, and Draco in the kitchen, the line "because he needs you, and Scorpius," always gets a laugh. It's like he focuses on Harry, and then throws in Scorpius at the last moment, almost trying to get him under the radar without starting another fight, but it also feels like a massive dig at Harry. It feels like one of Draco's most petty moments, because it's all about Harry and Albus, and explaining loneliness to him, and then at the last moment he takes the chance to remind Harry that he's been a massive asshole. I love that delivery.

This library scene was the best one I have ever seen. James smashed it, and Sam was so emotional. The whole thing was just stunning.

There were moment in Scorpius's big emotional speech where James had to stop to compose herself because she couldn't get the words out past her tears. It was so heart-wrenching and painful. The moment Scorpius starts talking about being excited that his mum might be alive was the moment where James really fell apart, and there was a big gap before 'but no, turns out she is', as she tried to gather herself together for the end of the speech. And then when Albus was offering the Cloak to Scorpius it sounded like Sam was in bits too, all choked up, and more quiet and desperate than usual.

Albus's apology was one of the moments in this show where there was genuine, raw emotion from Sam, where Albus and Sam sort of intersected, and Sam found a way to channel himself into Albus. It was heartfelt and broken and beautiful. I think when Sam comes through, Albus becomes more vulnerable, smaller somehow, and quieter, and it's a lovely quality I wish we'd had chance to see more of.

The only moment in the library scene where I missed Anthony was the exchange: "Friends?" "Always." simply because Anthony and Sam have their own friendship, and I would have loved to see what probably would have been an emotional moment between the two. But other than that there was nothing out of place, and I could have watched that scene a thousand times. It was an incredible thing that was a privilege to watch.

I'm not entirely sure what to say about Annabel's performance as Myrtle, other than that it was spectacular and well deserving of the round of applause it got. She was up to all sorts of antics, including flicking the sleeve of Albus's robe with her toe, and just generally being hyperactive and overexcited. I'm not sure if anyone will manage to live up to her amazing Myrtle, but I hope they try, and if they succeed then I will be ecstatic!

Mackley was on as the Scorpius double on the wires, and he waved at Fleur as she swam past, and then when Cedric was turned into a balloon, he waved at him too.

I don't know why, but the end of this act was just really good fun. James's panicked screaming for Albus in the lake was amazing. Helena was really giving everything for her last Petunia and Umbridge; at one point she did an excitable sort of jump and kick, that was the sort of sinister, girlish thing Umbridge would do when faced with trauma and distress. And the attack of the Dementors was just cool, maybe because I was sitting in Dress Circle Row A and had the perfect view up to see the auditorium Dementor terrorising the grand circle and balcony.

The break between shows was really great. A bunch of us went and had dinner together, and chatted and ate sweets, and started to get excited about the new cast. I met up with the wonderful @abradystrix who was sweet and kind and gave me the most hilarious gift. Then there was the fandom group photo which I'm sure is floating around somewhere online (probably on twitter).

On the way back into the theatre we checked the cast board again, just to make sure Anthony hadn't miraculously recovered, but no. I heard later that they'd been talking about him coming in for Part Two, but his doctor had said it probably wasn't a good idea. So we were treated to James's incredible, emotional Voldemort timeline instead.

This was a particularly special version of the Voldemort timeline. The only sad thing was that we missed out on Anthony and Alex saying farewell to each other in spectacular style, but I didn't mind James's version of the scene in Draco's office at all. I'll come back to that in a second.

First, massive shoutout to Jack North for giving absolutely everything in this performance. His movement is always so exceptional, but this time it was clean and crisp, and he was working so hard. He just stole all the dance moments, especially at the beginning of the second timeline. I'm going to miss him a lot. (Also, he did a fancy double pirouette thing going into one of the EGMs, which I enjoyed immensely, and looked like him just having fun on his last show.)

Back to the James L. I loved the strength of her Scorpius in the office scene. During Scorpius's initial tirade at Draco, he was so authoritative. Whatever Draco says about his son not being a leader is rubbish. He could make whole armies follow him with a speech like that.

Draco came briefly out from behind his desk to face him, intent and focused. It didn't feel like the previous version of this scene, which I saw on the 7th May, where Draco was actively impressed by his son and his boldness, but he was certainly listening and giving Scorpius the time of day.

The real standout moments of this Voldy timeline came when James L and Paul B were onstage together. I loved Scorpius's initial reaction to Snape, which was to real back across the whole stage with his hand clapped to his mouth in excitement and amazement. He just stood there, seeming like he didn't know where to begin and couldn't believe this extraordinary moment, for several moments before finally gasping out that it was an honour to meet him.

I know that Paul's been struggling with a sore throat this week, and you could tell his Snape and Voldemort voices were different in this show, but I actually preferred this version of his Snape voice. It was softer and more carefully pronounced. There was less anger and rasp to it. It never got too loud.

This is another of those scenes where James brings Scorpius's strength to life. He seems authoritative and confident, and full of determination. He has to get his best friend back after all, and Snape can help him do it, because he knows that of everyone in this godforsaken place, Snape at least will be firmly on his side.

I absolutely adore how Snape turns on Scorpius when he says "For Lily, for the world, help me", and I love how his hand shakes as he points his wand directly at Scorpius for the longest time, still trying to decide whether or not to curse him and be done with it, before he finally closes the door. That moment of struggle is amazing.

In the campaign room scene, there were so many highlights, but my favourite was the way Hermione gestured at Ron to pull down the map. I've never seen her do it quite like that before. It was commanding in the funniest way, and it felt like Ron was obeying her because he was still slightly terrified about the fact that they were married in the other world. He didn't seem to know what to do with her, so he just obeyed without question. Those two had a really sweet relationship in these scenes during this performance.

I don't know what it was about this performance in particular, but everyone who had to be in pain was really nailing it. Paul's Thornley's broken leg screaming was phenomenal, and he, like Sam earlier, just lay on the floor for a while, and I was almost worried he wouldn't get up.

When he did, the moment kissing Hermione before they're caught by the Dementors was simply lovely, and I was very happy to see that Noma managed to get herself hooked onto her Dementor in decent time for her final show. She was still winched up after Paul, but I wasn't stressed out by the length of time it took her, which has happened in the past. I also had fun watching the little Dementors that whizz around the auditorium during this section. They'd almost be cute if they weren't so creepy.

After Ron and Hermione were kissed and carried away, Scorpius was absolutely freaking out. He was completely terrified and overwrought, shaking, and breathing so hard, and then when the Dementor came for him he just couldn't break away because was already so scared. While he was connected with it, he was leant so far back, facing up at it, full of pure terror, and even Snape's words didn't seem to be breaking through to him very well. He was buried in the hell that was going on inside his head, and it was awful to watch. When he was talking about his mother he was sobbing, voice all squeaky, barely able to get the words out from how overwhelmed he was. When Snape finally broke through to him he tore himself away and stumbled down the stage towards the lake. He seemed exhausted from the struggle.

The part where Snape blasts Umbridge back got a cheer from the audience, which I don't think I've seen before. I loved that. She has to be fandom's least favourite character, just because she's so evil.

When Snape conjures his Patronus, both he and Scorpius were crying, and it was just a beautiful, intensely emotional moment between them. Scorpius could barely get out the words "thank you for being my light in the darkness", and Snape was crying as he said "tell Albus -- tell Albus Severus -- I'm proud he carries my name". And then once Scorpius had gone into the lake, as Snape was facing the Dementors he was saying Lily's name over and over again, because in facing death he was going to find her again, and he was holding onto that hope. It was heart-breaking.

Scorpius's delight when Albus came out of the lake was beautiful. Everything in that moment got applause, which is always fun to see. And I will always love the way Alex's Draco just looks at Scorpius and judges him for a moment before saying hello and handing him the robes to put on. I also loved how Draco looked at Scorpius when he said he'd lost the Time-Turner, completely exasperated.

Random detail. I suspect the shirt Scorpius wears under the Voldy timeline robes is velcroed for quick change purposes, because it came undone when James pulled the tie off.

The gossip scene, with all the kids running through the halls of Hogwarts, was really fun. At one point Jack North leaned so far over the banisters of one of the staircases that I was scared he'd fall right over. Also, they were all really relishing throwing themselves off the stairs into the wings.

Things from the McGonagall scene: Harry jerked to attention when McGonagall said she should expel the boys, apparently ready to fight on Albus's behalf. Scorpius was holding his left arm when he was talking about the world with Voldemort being a horrific world, which is basically my favourite James mannerism. And then at the end of the scene, the Hermione and Rose hug was sheer beauty. It was as much a Noma and Cherrelle hug as it was Hermione and Rose, and Hermione stroked Rose's hair and cupped her face in both hands and looked at her, before gather her in and holding her so tightly. They were both crying, which probably comes as a surprise to none of you. Crying is going to become a theme of this recap, moving forward.

I've always preferred Lowri's Petunia to Helena's, but in this performance Helena was pretty great. Full of emotion and intensity. I was really happy with what we saw from her. Albus's cries for his dad and Harry's scream of agony were also stand out moments from the dream in Scene Twelve, both even more intense and painful than usual.

The slumber party scene was one of the scenes where Sam really shone on Sunday. It was a really sweet scene generally, all Scorpius's confessions about the Voldemort timeline were heartfelt and beautiful, and Albus was listening intently. But the best moment was when Albus was talking about Cedric, and how the whole situation was his fault. He was curled up so small, and his voice was so soft and vulnerable. It was a real, genuine moment, and it felt like he was speaking right from his heart. It's not often that you see Sam deliver his lines that way, so it was wonderful to see. A really stunning little moment. And with James responding in kind, it was the perfect intimate conversation between two best friends.

The Owlery scene was really lovely too. There was a really nice pace to the conversation between Scorpius and Albus. I adored how James delivered: "It's a much underestimated part of modern witchcraft". It was authoritative and nerdy, and it was just an example of Scorpius in his element, having so much fun with his best friend.

There was at least one classic creepy Delphi moment in this scene. When Albus and Delphi were talking about the tattoo, Delphi reached out and cupped Albus's chin, and Albus's voice went all high-pitched and hoarse. It was a perfect example of her playing with the boys and using them. It was amusing, Sam played that moment brilliantly, but also horrific knowing that Delphi was being so awful and relishing having Albus wound round her little finger.

The moment of Delphi's attack was really good. I can't put my finger on precisely why it was so excellent in this performance, but there was something about it. Between Scorpius fumbling for his wand, and Delphi drawing hers like she had all the time in the world to strike him down, and Albus's confusion, it was perfect. And Delphi's jubilation at having taken down the boys finally was jubilant. She was revelling in her power, and in the world she was about to create.

Ron did his kneeling down for the reproposal, which I was really happy to see again. It really is a beautiful touch, and it makes him seem so sweet and earnest. How could that not make Hermione melt?

I love Draco's irritation while Ron is talking about Neville. He was there tapping his feet and leaning against the chair, and just generally looking like he was about to burst. And when Ron calls Scorpius by the wrong name he turns to Harry to appeal to him to sort out his best friend. The thing that makes it even better is that Harry is having almost the same reaction to Ron's speech. When Ginny says they all want to strangle him, she means it.

In case anyone's interested, I've finally figured out the mechanism behind Scorpius's gymnastics while he's being tortured. In this show there was a moment of quiet as James was getting into position for the torture, and I heard a sort of snap like a magnet connecting. And when she moved away a little later I noticed a metal plate on the floor of the stage. So I think that leaning back is done with magnets somehow, that hold Scorpius's feet in place.

The worst moment in the torture scene was actually Jeremy's last line. I was really sad about that one. And after Craig's death, there was the longest silence as the boys lay despairing on the ground, just staring and taking it in, full of so much horror and fear.

By the way, I'm not sure if this has been mentioned, but I heard that Paul Thornley did the voice of Bagman, and I think that's accurate because when I listened to it carefully during this show, it did sound a lot like him at times. It'll be interesting to see if they change that and let Thomas record it for the new cast, or if a tiny piece of Paul will remain with the show forever. I'll be listening closely on the 24th.

There was something so awful and heartbreaking about the moment between Cedric and Albus in this show. The weight of it was so poignant, and it felt like a real goodbye between Sam and Milligan. It was their last line to each other after all.

In fact, my favourite moment of the maze sequence was when Delphi took them back in time. Her pure joy at shattering the Time-Turner was amazing. I've never seen her so delighted by it. She just watched the pieces fall with sheer delight for a moment before laughing and addressing the boys. And the boys' despair when she left them behind was horrible to behold. They were so vulnerable and sad and scared, but still strong and protecting one another.

It was a sad moment for sure to hear Jamie speak Parseltongue for the last time. I'm not sure if that moment got anyone else, but I was a little bit heartbroken. He delivers it with a really great panache, and I'm going to miss it.

And then suddenly it was Act Four, and I don't think anyone in the theatre was ready for it. This was where the tears really began, for the cast as well as for me.

The big surprise of the night in terms of emotion was Hermione's line at the end of the second EGM (it's given to Harry in the script, but Hermione is the one who says it). "Then -- just like that -- most of the people in this room will be gone. We'll no longer exist, and Voldemort will rule again." I don't think anyone was expecting that to be the line that broke everyone, but Noma could barely get through it, and as I realised what she was saying I started sobbing. It was the most horrendous, sad line for the occasion. Starkly painful.

The second time I cried was at the pumpkin transition into Godric's Hollow. This has always been my favourite moment of the show, right from the very first time I saw the play, and Chris Jarman does it so beautifully. The way he moves his hands, and the time he spends over every detail. He commands that moment and makes it feel perfectly paced and poised. I don't think anyone will ever perform that bit of movement as well as he does. It was heartbreaking to see him do it for the final time.

Another last show thing from this first Godric's Hollow section was Annabel and Milligan saying goodbye to each other and to James and Lily. When they come out of the door together, normally they give each other a quick peck on the lips, but this time they kissed once, then kissed again really hard before finally walking off. It was a really sweet little moment.

The scene in Harry's office is always a sob fest, but this time it was even worse, full of so many emotionally potent lines. Jamie was sobbing so hard through the whole thing. And I knew the line that would be the worst. The second Jamie said: "Don't go!" I began tearing up in anticipation of the response. "Those that we love never truly leave us."

When Dumbledore talked about paint and memory and love, my mind wandered to all the beautiful memories from the year, of all the performances I've seen. I thought of all the photos and videos, both of the actors and with the actors, and with my friends. This play is full of beautiful, touching lines, and they became so poignant and painful in this particular context.

The thing I remember most about the second half of the scene, when Draco arrives, is how much Jamie was wiping his eyes. All the way through Alex's speech, he kept taking his glasses off and dabbing his eyes with his handkerchief. Alex got pretty emotional too. I've seen him worse, but actually when Alex is at his most emotional his voice doesn't break at all, and that was pretty much what happened here. He also did his little gestures skywards when he mentioned Astoria. I'm going to miss his constant mission to make us laugh and then break our hearts in the next second.

The second half of the boys' waiting around in Godric's Hollow contained one of my favourite features of James's performance. I'm not sure if I've mentioned this before, but starting around Easter, she began grabbing Sam by the face during Scorpius's "HELP!" routine. This time I wasn't sure if she would do it, because she was facing away across the stage, but right at the last second she turned and took Sam's face in both hands and yelled right at him. James's performances have been a goldmine of Scorbus feels, and it's going to be so sad to lose her. Although, she still has four weeks as first cover Scorpius to go, and as we saw at this show, anything can happen.

Most of the next few scenes were at their usual, top quality standard. The most interesting thing happened in Scene Ten. After the decision had been made to transfigure Harry into Voldemort, Jamie took his time getting into position for the Transfiguration. He turned round and looked every single one of the other adults in the eye, finishing with Poppy, and had a significant, beautiful moment with each of them before finally kneeling down. It was his last chance to directly interact with all of them, and he really did justice to the moment.

Paul Bentall and Esther were really incredible in the scene between Voldemort and Delphi. I mentioned earlier about Paul struggling with his voice, and it continued here, giving us a much softer, slightly posher and more restrained sounding Voldemort than usual. There was less of the bite and animosity. He sounded more distant from Delphi, which was actually quite a nice quality, that level of dismissiveness.

Esther was giving everything of course, begging her father for attention. But she seemed perhaps a little more suspicious of him than usual. I felt as though Delphi saw through what was going on a lot earlier than usual, and the last bit of the scene was just her checking to make sure before she acted.

I don't know about anyone else, but the last time Jamie lay under the bench in the church and it didn't fall on him, I was so relieved. My greatest source of stress in the play is that bench, and I'm glad Jamie survived eleven months of it.

The level of pain that Jamie poured into these last few scenes was incredible. When Voldemort was coming Harry's scream as he clutched his scar was the most awful I've ever heard. Full of so much agony. He seemed like he could barely climb to his feet for the death scene.

The transition into that moment was slow and almost reluctant. It was Alex, Poppy, Noma, and Paul's last moment on stage, and they didn't seem to want to do it, but they eventually got into position and completely broke our hearts. Everyone was crying. I don't think I've ever seen Sam really cry before, but even from the dress circle I could tell that he was. His face was all red, and he was clinging to Jamie with a new level of ferocity. Alex was cradling James in his arms. And Noma and Paul were clutching each other. Whoever made the observation that Ron is the only person not to look away when Lily is killed was completely right. He just stands there and stares at the house, and it's such a brave thing to do. He's being the strong one for everyone else. I thought for a moment at the end of this scene that Jamie wasn't going to scream in his grief, but maybe he was just crying too much to do it right away, because when he finally did it was awful to hear.

Hagrid's speech was another bit that made everyone cry, including Chris. He mentioned at stagedoor that he struggled to get through it. Which is understandable when it contains the line: "Hard though it is to leave yeh. I want yeh to know -- yeh won't be forgotten -- not by me -- not by any folk." That was the one that really got me, because it's true. We'll never forget this cast and the world they've conjured up for us. They've been spectacular, and these memories will stay with us all forever.

Act Four Scene Fourteen contained, as you may have heard, Rose kissing Scorpius on the cheek. She beckoned to him and reeled him in, then kissed him and skipped away without another word, while some of the audience exploded with delight. I really loved how Albus was grinning the whole time, half entertained by his best friend, half wanting to mock him for how ridiculous he was being. But of course Albus is always supportive, and always loves everything Scorpius does, because he simply can't help himself.

The final hug between the two boys was tight and long and lovely. Just what you'd want for the final Scorbus hug with this cast.

And then we reached the final scene, and it was heartfelt and emotional and gorgeous. Jamie took hold of Sam's hand and placed it on his chest during the 'I know that heart' line, and he adjusted Sam's hood for him. There was so much tender love between them, as they just looked at each other and stayed so close together, like they couldn't bring themselves to part. It was a perfect final moment, and a beautiful send off to their Harry and Albus. They've both been incredible, and that moment with the two of them with their arms around each other, will stay with me forever, the final image of two characters and two actors who've changed my life.

And then it was all over!

After a surprisingly short but raucous curtain call we all sprinted to stage door for a bit of a wild one, during which so many questions were answered.

The first people out were Jamie and Noma. Because the line was so long they decided to start at the other end to where we were, so people didn't have to wait too long. This ended up causing a massive traffic jam as the actors tried to cross over each other in the middle of the line, but that in itself was entertaining. When they came out they sprinted along the line, giggling and grinning like children, and everyone screamed at them. It was like a movie premiere or something.

I spoke to Chris about the pumpkin transition, and how much I love what he does with it, and he said it was because of Steven Hoggett's movement. But I insisted that he makes it really special, because he does. As I said earlier, no one plays that moment like he does.

James Le Lacheur gave us a couple of excellent bits of information. She's staying on to cover Scorpius for the next four weeks until the new cover is ready. So you never know, we may yet see her again. Also, I can't remember how it came up, but she said she was thinking about kissing Sam in the penultimate scene, however she decided it was more of a James choice than a Scorpius choice, so she restrained herself. It's great that she was thinking about it though. James has been a true gift to the play.

Esther was just the sweetest. She was giving everyone hugs. I told her how much I loved her Delphi, and how she'd become one of my favourite cast members, and that I was going to miss her. She was the only one I teared up in front of, and we both started crying a bit and she hugged me. I'm going to miss how lovely she is, and how incredible her Delphi has become.

Jack Thorne was amazing at stage door. Most of this has been extensively mentioned elsewhere, but he was part of the sugar ban conversation, where it came out that Ginny bans sugar in the Potter household to preserve Harry and Ginny's sex life. He also said that Delphi doesn't have a last name. She should go by Riddle, but given that that links back to her Muggle grandparents, she'd probably reject it. Jack also said that she'd like the idea of being just Delphi, in the way that Voldemort is just Lord Voldemort. It's a way of establishing her own identity and following in her father's footsteps.

The greatest thing to happen at stagedoor was Milligan's hair. I couldn't see round the corner, and I asked someone who was coming, and they were like 'I think it's Milligan, but it's difficult to tell because he has no hair'. Which I found mildly confusing because Milligan has hair. So I craned round the corner and oh my god he really did have basically no hair. It was shocking. Apparently he shaved it all off because he dyes it black for James and wanted to be free (which makes me wonder if maybe Sam is allergic to hair dye or something, because he's the only Potter boy who didn't dye his hair).

The other actors hadn't seen Milligan shave his hair, so as they saw it for the first time they were all gasping and shrieking and freaking out. There's a beautiful video of Noma and Jamie's reaction, and Sam's reaction has been preserved photographically forever. I think it was James Howard who ran a hand over his head and looked generally amazed. I didn't see all the reactions, but the ones I witnessed were stunning and hilarious, and I feel like Milligan was having a great time. He certainly made an impression.

And finally, stuff from the remaining cast!

Mackley (who kissed Sam on the cheek at one point in an amazing, mildly incestuous, Albus moment), confirmed that he will continue to be first cover for Albus. He also said that this year they might be able to tell us when they're on! Fingers crossed.

I told James Howard and Annabel how excited I was to see the show on Wednesday and Thursday, and they both looked mildly horrified. Jame said he hoped they'd be ready (he also said he was excited, and I know he referred to Samuel as his son to some people further down the line). Annabel told me to cut them some slack. She explained that the old cast had five weeks of tech rehearsals, while this cast has four days. I'm fully expecting adrenaline and carnage at the first show, and I will keep you posted on all of that. If she told me all that to warn me about the new cast and to temper my expectations, it didn't work. I'm more excited than ever, and having said a wonderful goodbye to the original cast, surrounded by all my friends, I'm so ready to look to the future, and find out what we're in for this year. It's been great, and it will continue to be great. As Scorpius would say: "Good. This is going to be good."

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scottharper · 7 years

Note

“Sorry, were you sleeping?” for scott/cora !!!

Pairing: Scott/Cora ( Implied. Pre-Relationship. )Rating: GPrompt: “Sorry, were you sleeping?”

Mixing it up just a bit here, using my in-game events where Sara is the Pathfinder instead while Scott joins the crew post-game. Bit of angst, but with some actual comfort to go with the hurt this time~

-----

She doesn’t remember dozing off in the middle of reviewing her reports but the next thing Cora knows she’s jolting awake as the galley door suddenly hisses open, and she looks over to see Scott walking into the room, looking briefly surprised by her presence before he gives her a sheepish smile. Not that she wasn’t surprised to see him as well; everyone was still getting used to having two Ryders on the Tempest after all.

“Oh.. Uh, I didn’t expect to find anyone else in here,” he apologizes quietly, looking for a moment like he doesn’t know what to do next before he finally steps further into the galley, the door sliding shut behind him. “Sorry.. Were you sleeping?”

“Yeah, guess I was.. I must have dozed off.” Cora replies, rubbing the back of her hands over her eyes to try and chase off the lingering hold that her unexpected nap had on her. Part of her is a little embarrassed about being found in such a state by Scott but he just smiles, giving her a look of understanding.

“Hey, I used to doze off in weird places all the time,” he tells her over his shoulder as he walks towards the counter, apparently intent on retrieving some of the leftover coffee from the pot she made earlier. “Fell asleep in the tub a lot when I was a kid.. Kept scaring my mom, apparently she thought I’d sleep through drowning.”

Cora raises an eyebrow at that, though a smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. Definitely not the sort of comment she expected to hear from their Pathfinder’s brother, but then again she was learning that despite the many similarities that the two of them openly shared, they were still drastically different people inside.

Additionally, this was probably the most she’d ever heard him say in a single conversation since he was transferred to his sister’s team.

“Want a fresh cup?” he asks, gesturing to the half-empty cup beside her, the contents of which had long since gotten cold.

“Please,” Cora replies, smiling in gratitude as she hands him the dirty cup. He smiles in return before dropping it into the sink and grabbing a clean one from the cabinet, and Cora almost chastises him for it out of habit before she catches herself.

‘You guys go easy with him until he finds his feet with us,’ Sara had told them all before Scott officially joined the crew, ‘He’s really been through a lot lately.’

That he had..

Cora’s not sure that she can imagine what it must’ve been like for him, being used so violently by the Archon, and being forced to channel Meridian’s power for him while at the same time fighting against that control to help his sister and her team as much as he could. She remembers hearing the increasing strain in his voice throughout the fight, and the fear they’d all heard in Sara’s afterwards when she thought for a moment that she’d lost him.Considering that he’d only just regained his strength before it happened it was no wonder that the incident had knocked his recovery back nearly another month, and they all knew that it hadn’t done his already low morale any favors either.

Some things in that fight had changed Sara but it had changed Scott as well, and not just physically. Cora’s first meetings with Scott before they departed the Milky Way were brief but she remembers getting to know a bright-eyed young man who had filled their shuttle ride with his laughter and presence. They were all scared, everything was about to change for them after all, but smiles and reassurances just came easily with Scott around back then, but the difference now was drastic.

Now Scott was generally quieter, kept to himself unless his sister was somewhere in the same room, and though there were a few brief laughs shared between him and the others it just didn’t have the same energy as before. Cora had overheard Sara talking to Lexi enough to know that their Pathfinder was worried about his recovery, even with the asari’s assurances that he would recover at his own pace, and honestly Cora found herself surprisingly worried as well. Scott seemed like such a good guy. He didn’t deserve any of the struggles he was forced through, and he definitely didn’t deserve to lose so much of himself as a result.

“Cora?”

She blinks hard when she finally registers that he was saying her name, and her attention comes back into focus to see Scott standing in front of her, gently waving a fresh cup of coffee in her face.

“Earth to Cora,” Scott says, smiling as she takes the cup with a quiet thanks, but then his smile falters just a little. “Er, well.. Meridian to Cora, I guess is the new saying.”

“Sorry,” Cora apologizes quietly, looking away from him and taking a sip of her coffee before she stops to think about it, and she’s surprised to find that it’s near perfect in taste, almost exactly the way she made it herself. She glances over at Scott curiously as he sits down at the table across from her, and though he doesn’t meet her gaze as he sips from his own cup she swears his ears are turning red.

“I.. might have asked Sara some stuff,” Scott finally answers to the question she didn’t verbally ask, and yes, his ears were definitely turning red now. “Just little things like that about you guys, hobbies and how you like drinks and stuff. I’m trying to learn a bit more about you guys, if you want me to, but.. I know I’m not Sara.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Cora asks, keeping her tone as light as she can in spite of her honest confusion, and Scott lets the silence linger between them for a few long moments, absently sipping at his coffee before he finally looks at her again.

“Look, I get.. I’m not the Ryder that made a home for the people. I’m not the one who defeated the Archon and saved the day, and I’m not the one everyone’s always thanking or cheering for.. I’m the Ryder that got knocked out five minutes into Andromeda and then sprung into action long enough to get kidnapped by the Archon, who also nearly destroyed the entire cluster thanks to me and my implant.”

“That’s not your fault, Scott,” Cora replies promptly, her brow furrowing. Scott just frowns, looking away from her, and Cora reaches over to gently touch his wrist before she can stop herself. Needless to say, Scott’s attention is quickly returned to her. “None of it was. The Archon used you, in a way you weren’t ready to defend yourself again, but you still earned that victory as much as any of us did. You fought beside us, even with him controlling you and your implant, and yes, Sara earned her victory but she was still hurting, and she might not have won if you hadn’t risked everything to help her.”

“Well she is my big sister.. Couldn’t just leave her out to dry.” Scott replies with a strained smile that doesn’t make it to his eyes. “But.. Cora, because of me everything she’s accomplished was nearly undone. I’ve listened to the reports and watched the vids, and it’s an outsider’s perspective, but I I know what you all went through to build the outposts, to make allies with the Angara, and to just give hope to people when they had none. If you guys hadn’t won then everything you worked for would’ve been destroyed..”

“But it wasn’t, Scott, because we won. We defeated the Archon, together.” Cora continues, giving his wrist a light squeeze. “You’re as much a hero as Sara is, you fought just as hard to save everyone, and the people out there who aren’t cheering your name? It’s their loss right now for not knowing you, but they will, if we have to go to every outposts and spread the word ourselves.”

For a few moments Scott doesn’t answer, long enough for Cora to worry that she might have embarrassed or upset him with her words, but then he smiles and lets out a little laugh that’s shaky but warm, and she thinks his eyes have some of their old shine in them as he looks at her.

“Thanks, Cora,” he finally says, and that red tint has returned to his ears as he reaches up to rub a hand along the back of his neck. “Really know how to make a guy feel welcome, huh? Careful though, at this rate I might even become your favorite Ryder.”

“Who knows, Scott? Maybe you will,” Cora replies, smiling at the way he perks up at that, and the two of them fall silent as they finish their drinks but it’s a comfortable silence now, and an odd peace that Cora doesn’t feel the need to break, and Cora thinks (maybe hopes actually) that there’s a mutual sense of disappointment when they finally part ways to return to their respective sleeping quarters.

---

They’re halfway through breakfast the next morning when Scott walks in.

He’s welcomed with a few perplexed stares and quick greetings but Cora hears everyone holding back, as if worried that showing too much enthusiasm at his sudden arrival would scare him off. Scott just returns their greetings with a nod of his own, looking for a moment like he might actually be considering leaving, but then his eyes find Cora’s and he visibly relaxes when she smiles at him.

“Nice to see you, Scott. I was just saying that there’s been an annoying amount of breakfast leftovers without you around.” Sara remarks, and Scott manages a grin as he glances back at her over his shoulder.

“Most important meal of the day, right?” Scott replies quietly, his movements still a little stiff and uncertain as he gets himself a plate of food. Behind him Sara and the others try to act like they’re not all wondering if he was going to stay or go but then he approaches the table with a little less hesitation this time and settles himself into the empty seat beside Cora, who finds herself much more pleased than she expected by the action.

“Good morning, Scott,” she greets him, holding his gaze briefly before she turns her attention back to her half-gone breakfast, but she doesn’t miss the looks that Liam and Peebee are giving her, or the way Sara’s glancing back and forth between the two of them, visibly surprised but with something close to a smile tugging at her lips.

“Morning, Cora,” Scott replies, and his voice is noticeably stronger now than it was moments ago. Sara definitely smiles this time, watching the two of them for another second before resuming the conversation she’d been having with Peebee and Suvi. Scott says nothing further, working slowly through his breakfast, but then Cora thinks she feels his knee brush against hers under the table, and when she looks over at him he’s trying and failing to hide a smile behind his mug.

Small steps, Cora thinks as she smiles into her own cup, but it was definitely a start of something good.

-----

#MyMEFics #OTP: You're Worth The Fight #Coryder #Scott Ryder #Cora Harper #thanks for the prompt!#Anonymous

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oodlyenough · 7 years

Text

fic: everybody’s got a little piece of someone they hide

5k, Rhys/Sasha. Set during the ep 3 roadtrip montage. Telling Sasha the truth—that he’d sort-of-accidentally given Handsome Jack control of a gun three feet away from her—seemed like a Bad Idea with a capital Bad.

Also on AO3.

“Right.” Sasha hopped to her feet and dusted the sand from the back of her pants so aggressively that Rhys, seated next to her at the campfire, leaned away for fear of breathing it in. “Well, I’ll be back.”

“What? Where are you going?”

“For a walk,” she said plainly.

“A walk? Now? Here?” he repeated incredulously. “Just… a peaceful nighttime walk alone through the terrifying Pandoran desert in the middle of the night?”

“Yeah.” Unphased, Sasha grabbed a bag from the inside of the open caravan door and slung it over her shoulder. “You... wanna come?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Uh, no, not particularly.” Infinitely dangerous as Pandora was in the day, Pandora by night—away from even the illusion of security offered by a campfire and a working vehicle—was an unqualified horror. “Sounds kind of nightmarish, actually.”

It seemed Sasha didn’t feel the same; she shrugged, then pulled the strap of her bag over her shoulders. “Well, okay. See you later.”

With that, she started off towards the horizon, fading from the firelight and making her way towards the rock outcropping in the distance. Rhys watched her go, contemplating Sasha’s definition of relaxation and how she might react to a day at the spa (boredom? delight? restlessness? confusion?), before leaning back on the heels of his hands and surveying the remaining group.

Because Rhys had felt weird about leaving poor, paralyzed Vaughn alone inside the caravan, he was propped up against a boulder, facing away from the smoke. Fiona looked deceptively peaceful, curled up and fast asleep atop the jacket she’d meticulously arranged so as not to crush the collar. Further from the fire, Loader Bot and Gortys were two minutes deep into a comparison of who knew the most digits of pi (thusfar a tie, as far as Rhys could tell, based on their synchronized recitation).

All of which left Athena, hunched over as she played the single most intense-looking game of solitaire Rhys had ever seen in his life.

She must have felt him staring, because she looked up from her cards and sat up straighter, looking either embarrassed or combative—it was hard to tell. An excruciating second of silence passed where they simply looked at each other.

Athena broke their staring contest first, followed by the silence. “Oh. It’s just us.” She looked at the others, paused, and looked back at him. “Do you... want something? Should we… talk?”

She sounded about as pained by the notion as he felt; Rhys could make conversation with everyone in the caravan, frozen Vaughn included, more easily than with Athena.

He reflexively let out a nervous laugh that, if anything, only made the atmosphere more awkward. “Actually, you know what, I think I will go for a walk with Sasha, after all. Cardio, right?”

“Sure,” said Athena, “Cardio.”

If he hadn’t known better, he’d have thought she sounded amused.

Catching up to Sasha didn’t take long, although it did take enough energy that he slowed several feet behind her before calling her name in hope of masking the fact that he was winded.

“Sasha! Hey, wait up!”

It was only as she turned towards him, eyebrows raised in surprise, that he suddenly realized her earlier offer may not have been genuine. Quite possibly she had never really intended for him to join her and had only asked to keep up some degree of civility, relying on his cowardice to save her.

But her look of surprise was replaced by an amused smile, one hand on her hip. She didn’t look unhappy to see him.

“Changed your mind?”

Relieved he hadn’t just half-jogged from one socially awkward situation into another, he walked the distance between them, his right palm held out as a flashlight.

“Well, you know, thought you might need some company, and, frankly, it seemed ungentlemanly to let you wander the dark by yourself, so—” “You’re scared of Athena, aren’t you?”

“Terrified,” he agreed.

Sasha snorted. She turned back the direction she’d been walking, and Rhys fell into step next to her.

“She’s not going to hurt you,” said Sasha. “I mean, probably not.” She paused for effect. “At least, Fiona and I would stop her if she did.” Pause. “Probably.” Pause. “After a few good hits.” “Wow. That’s sweet.”

Sasha snickered again. “Sorry, am I being ungentlemanly?”

Rhys threw his hands into the air. “You know what? I'm taking my chances with Athena.”

But Sasha laughed and caught his bicep as he turned to leave. “Okay, okay, I'm sorry, I promise to stop Athena if she tries to kill you, which she won’t. Alright?”

Rhys blinked down at her hand on his arm. Her grip wasn't strong, but her touch pinned him in place effectively anyway; he was pretty sure he couldn't have walked away or, well, done much of anything, even if he wanted to.

“If you insist,” he said, hoping he sounded much cooler than he felt.

Sasha grinned as she let go of his arm, her free hand moving to adjust the strap of her shoulder bag before she started walking again. Rhys kept a step behind her, illuminating their path with his hand and watching Sasha curiously. For someone willingly wandering about a deathtrap in the middle of the night, she looked perfectly at ease. He was kind of jealous; he still hadn’t shaken the feeling that every single thing on Pandora, down to the individual grains of sand, wished him ill, specifically.

Sasha reached up to adjust her headband, shooting him a self-conscious smile as she did so.

Rhys swallowed. Well. Maybe not everything on Pandora.

He smiled back at her, plucking at the strap of her bag with one finger. “So what’s in the bag?”

“You’ll see,” she said, with an air of unnecessary mystery. “It’s a surprise.” Then she narrowed her eyes suspiciously and pointed a reprimanding finger towards his ECHO eye. “And don’t do that… thing.”

She clutched the bag tighter to her side, an action completely ineffective at preventing him from scanning anything, though he didn’t have the heart to tell her that. Instead he raised a hand in surrender.

“Okay, no peeking in the mystery bag, got it.”

Satisfied, Sasha nodded. She led them through the middle of a rock outcropping, and Rhys glanced behind them; the caravan, the campfire and the rest of the group were obscured from view.

“Are we going somewhere in particular?”

Sasha shrugged. “Sort of. I’ll know it when I see it.”

She stopped for a moment, searching their surroundings, apparently looking for something although Rhys couldn’t imagine what there was to find.

“Well,” he began, “if you’re looking for a bunch of rock and sand, you’ve come to—” “There we go!” Sasha cut him off, pointing to a hill of rock that looked to Rhys to be no different from every other hill of rock. She took off in that direction, bag jostling at her side. “Come on!”

Rhys ran after her, grateful that the length of his legs helped him compensate for Sasha’s actual speed. She finally came to a stop as they reached a rock ledge not much taller than she was, a more-or-less flat surface that stretched a couple feet in each direction. She ran her hand along the surface, inspecting it for God-knows-what, before she grinned again and nodded approvingly.

“Perfect.”

“Uh... yeah,” said Rhys, eyeing it skeptically and trying to feign enthusiasm. “Rocks. Cool. Totally way better than all the other rocks.”

Sasha ignored him. She plunged a hand into her mystery bag, pulling out one empty beer bottle. “Ta-dah!”

He stared. “I... don’t get it. What’s that for?”

She waggled the bottle enticingly between two fingers. “Spin the bottle, duh.”

The night air suddenly rose in temperature about sixty degrees, and Rhys felt his mouth go dry. “Oh. Oh. Uh. Really? But there’s only two of us. I mean—not that—uh—”

“Okay, that was obviously a joke,” said Sasha, eyeing him oddly before she reached up to place the bottle on top of the rock ledge.

Rhys forced a laugh, hoping the dark was enough to hide the fact that his face probably looked like it was on fire. “Ha, yeah, obviously. Same.”

Mercifully, Sasha was preoccupied with her bag, pulling out a second bottle, then a third, and a fourth, and an empty can, lining them all up along the rock like some weird art installation. She kept going, her bag getting lighter and lighter, and Rhys stepped back out of her way, watching with equal parts interest and confusion.

“There,” said Sasha, balancing the last of the cans and standing back to examine her handiwork.

“Wow, we drink a lot,” he observed.

Sasha tilted her head. “Yeah.” Then she turned, walking away from her creation.

Rhys looked back and forth between her and the rock, totally perplexed. “What? Is that it? You just… Did you just walk all the way out here to get rid of our garbage?” He looked at it again. “By littering?”

Sasha came to a stop about twenty feet away. “No.” She stuck her hand back into her mostly-empty bag and pulled out one of her beloved, enormous guns. “It’s target practice.”

“Oh.” It took a second, and then it clicked properly, and his eyes widened. “Oh!”

Gun balanced on her hip, Sasha laughed at him as he scrambled out of the way and over to her.

“You realize I wasn’t going to shoot at you,” she chided. She let the empty bag slide off her shoulder onto the ground. “Actually, I’m not going to shoot at all yet, you are.”

“What—” he began, then broke off with a soft oof noise as Sasha shoved the gun at him and he lifted his arms out of the way. “Oh, no, no, I don’t think that’s—”

“Come on,” she wheedled, still stubbornly holding it against his stomach for him to take. “It’s about time you learned how to use one of these, there’s enough people trying to kill you.”

She had a point. Still, he resisted, hands in the air like this was a strangely-executed stick-up. “I dunno, Sasha, the whole… guns and combat thing is really not—” “Your thing? Yeah, I’ve seen you in a fight, I’ve noticed. That’s the point.” She raised her eyebrows, then sighed, softening. “Look, you’re scared of your own shadow here on Pandora, right? I’m just trying to help.” She smirked. “You know, in case Fiona or I aren’t around to save your gangly ass.”

Rhys put his hands on his hips. “I’m choosing to hear your concern and not the insult with which you expressed it.” But Sasha’s look was imploring, and she did have a point, so he sighed and relented, cradling the gun like an extremely dangerous baby. “Okay, fine.”

Sasha beamed, an image he decided to cherish in the likely event that this somehow got both of them killed.

“Great.” She looked at the gun, her lips twitching in barely-concealed amusement. “Um… well, lesson one, don’t hold it so strange. Here.”

She moved in closer, taking his hands in hers as she adjusted his grip, closed his metal hand around the handle beneath the muzzle of the gun, pushed his shoulders into position.

He let her pose him like a Barbie, staring down at the top of her hair the whole time. His heartbeat, he noticed suddenly, was very loud. Was it always this loud? Could Sasha hear it? Did she think it was weird?

“Oh, cool, are we shooting stuff?” came a voice.

Even though he really should have been used to it by now, Jack’s voice nearly made Rhys jump out of his skin.

“Whoa, are you okay?” asked Sasha, oblivious to the fact that Handsome Jack was now standing two feet in front of her, looking on with an interest that could not possibly end well.

“Yeah… yeah, fine,” said Rhys, scowling at Jack as discreetly as he could manage. “Just, uh, got a chill, sorry.”

“Nice cover,” said Jack sarcastically, right as Sasha said, “A chill? It’s like eighty degrees out here.”

Doing his best to ignore Jack, Rhys shrugged.

The suspicious look on Sasha’s face didn’t last very long, and she turned back to the task at hand, moving his finger closer to the trigger.

“Okay, just aim for…” She pointed towards her makeshift firing range. “...well, anything, really. Maybe that bottle in the middle there?”

But the bottle she pointed towards was obscured by Jack, whose attention was trained on the gun.

“Ooh, let me do it,” said Jack. He looked up at Rhys expectantly, wiggling the fingers of both hands in invitation. “C’mon, it’ll be so good. Just gimme a teensy bit of control of your body, c’mon, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“Absolutely not,” hissed Rhys through gritted teeth.

“Uh, okay,” said Sasha, taking a step back, folding her arms and looking away. “Pick a different one, then.”

Rhys winced at her dejection. God, the secret-side-conversation-with-a-ghost thing was hard on interpersonal relationships.

“Oh, no, I just—I meant—I will absolutely… not… be… as bad as you’re expecting! Ha.”

Sasha stared at him like he was insane, which was probably a reasonable deduction. Rhys smiled back feebly.

“You got a real way with words, kid,” said Jack flatly. He glanced at Sasha, then sidled up to Rhys, still holding out his right arm as if on offer. “Look, you wanna impress her, right? I can help. Chicks love me.” Rhys doubted that. “And more importantly,” Jack carried on, “I can definitely hit that bottle of yours. So whadda ya say? I just need a liiittle bit of—” Rhys raised the gun and fired. The shot rang off ...somewhere, disappearing into the night sky. None of the bottles or cans even wobbled in the breeze.

“Wow,” said Jack. “You are bad.”

Sasha blinked, her arms unfolding, softened somewhat by his pitiful shot.

“Okay, well, that was… close,” she said gently, in a voice that suggested otherwise.

“No it wasn’t,” said Jack. “It was pathetic. See? You need my help.”

Rhys closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. It really ought to be easier to ignore a voice coming from your own head.

Misreading his response as disappointment, Sasha nodded toward the rock. “Maybe we should move closer.”

“You don’t need to be closer, you need someone who can shoot,” Jack insisted.

Rhys shook his head at Sasha. “No, it’s okay. I’ll just…” He fired another shot; this time, at least, it got absorbed by the boulder, even if it was about two feet lower than the row of targets.

“That was… better,” said Sasha, nodding encouragingly. “I mean, still needs some work, but… you hit something!”

It sounded kind of like she was talking to Gortys, which Rhys might have found insulting were he not so distracted by Jack standing in front of him again, shaking his head. “You’re killing me, cupcake,” Jack said, gesturing desperately. “The whole hokey Partridge family roadshow adventure is hard enough to stomach, but watching you embarrass yourself like this, and in front of a broad, it... it hurts me, it really does. You gotta let me help, dude. Lemme have some fun. Help me to help you, Rhysie—”

Terrible shot though Rhys was, with Jack standing so close, it was remarkably easy to fire straight through his holographic chest.

Sasha’s forehead crinkled in confusion. “Um…”

Jack looked down at the would-be wound, then folded his arms. “Now, that was just rude.”

Rhys smirked.

Jack rolled his neck like he was cracking imaginary bones and flexed his fingers. “Alright, well, hey, I tried to be nice.”

Rhys had just enough time to register his own alarm before Jack stuck out his right arm and Rhys’ cybernetic arm followed suit. Jack ripped the gun out of Rhys’ left hand, taking control of the trigger.

He fired two shots in quick succession, both shattering one of Sasha’s bottles, before Rhys grabbed at the gun again. In the struggle between right and left, the third shot got fired wildly into the air.

“What the hell, Rhys?” cried Sasha, jumping away from him and looking, for once, truly frightened.

Jack doubled over in laughter; with renewed control of both hands, Rhys took the opportunity to drop the gun to the ground. “Shit,” said Rhys, stepping back from the gun and raising his arms. He looked over at Sasha, who was still staring at him in horror, tensed and poised like she was ready to fight. “Shit, Sasha, I—”

“What the hell was that?” she demanded.

“That’s—I was—it—” Rhys stammered.

“Oh man,” said Jack, straightening up from his laughter. “Boy, she did not like that, did she?” He shook his head, wiping a tear of mirth from his eye. “Hey, what can you do, you know? It’s always a fine line between ‘impressed’ and ‘terrified’.” He clapped one weightless hand on Rhys’ shoulder. “Well, have fun on date night, kid.”

With that, Jack vanished.

But the relief Rhys normally felt with Jack’s disappearance was muted by the way Sasha was looking at him, like whatever trust he’d managed to earn since they’d met had just evaporated.

Goddamn it, Jack.

Hands still in the air, Rhys nudged the gun towards her with his foot, and Sasha knelt slowly to pick it up, dusting it off with her sleeve, her eyes fixed on him the entire time.

“Sasha, I’m—I’m sorry,” he said, as earnestly as he could. “I didn’t mean to scare you, that was—it was—”

“Explain.” Sasha’s stare was uncompromising.

“Right. Yeah.” He swallowed, frantically searching for an explanation that wouldn’t make Sasha any more wary of him than she already was. “Glitch! It was a glitch.” He pointed an accusatory finger at his right arm.

Sasha returned to her full height, clutching her gun protectively, her eyes narrowed.

“A glitch,” she repeated.

It seemed wrong to exploit the technological naivete of someone who shouted “enhance!” at the air, but telling Sasha the truth—that he’d sort-of-accidentally given Handsome Jack control of a gun three feet away from her—seemed like a Bad Idea with a capital Bad.

“Yep,” he said, bolstering the lie with as much confidence as he could. “There’s a targeting program in this—” he waved his metal fingers at her “—standard issue, I guess, never used it before, but I thought I’d give it a try and, well, you saw how that went, so…” He gave what he hoped was a convincingly casual shrug and ran his hand through his hair. “Nothing ever runs right out of the box, right? I mean, they say that, but then you install it and you gotta download updates and... The software probably just needs a patch or… seven. I can fix it, look! Fixing it!”

As the cherry on his cake of lies, he opened his palm, displaying random strings of garbage code that he hoped might look convincing to the uninitiated. Sasha squinted at the code, squinted at him, then slowly relaxed.

“Okay... well, that was weird, and I’m gonna hold onto the gun now,” she said.

“Please do,” Rhys agreed. “All yours.”

Finally comfortable enough to take her eyes off him, Sasha turned to the firing range, easily picking off one of the cans in a single shot. With her turned back to him, Rhys sighed and shut off the fake code, using that hand to rub his neck guiltily instead.

“So…” He watched her shoot another can, fishing for a topic of conversation to distract from his web of deceit. “How long have you been doing this?” he asked. “What, shooting? Like two minutes, you’ve been here the whole time.”

“No, not this,” he gestured to the targets with his hand. “I mean, this.” He gestured broadly to the air around them.

Sasha raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you mean living a life of crime?”

“Hey, your words, not mine.”

“Pretty much forever.” She closed one eye to focus on a target, firing one handed. A bottle exploded with a satisfying crack. “Our mom died when I was three, so…”

Rhys flinched. Oh. Right. “Sorry, I didn’t—”

Sasha shrugged, but her eyes were downcast. “It’s okay. I don’t really remember her.” She looked at him and offered a smile. “Fi says I look like her, so, that’s cool, I guess.” Heaving the gun back up to shoulder height, she took out another bottle. “Anyway, then Fiona took care of us, until I got old enough to pull my own weight.”

Old enough in this context, Rhys realized, probably meant about six or seven, and he frowned. As competent and capable as the sisters now were, imagining them as children, left to their own devices on the streets of Hollow Point, tugged at something in his chest.

“Wow, that’s…” He took a step forward, closing some of the distance that had built between them. “I mean, I almost died, like, fifty times in my first ten minutes on Pandora, and that was as an adult. Being a kid… that’s impressive.” “Yeah. Well.” Sasha lowered the gun. “I was lucky to have Fi. She was always a quick thinker. And a good liar.” Her lips twisted at a memory, neither a frown nor a smile. “She used to go out to get us food, and sometimes she’d come back with only have something for me, and she’d say she was so hungry she ate hers on the way home. You’d be surprised how long I fell for that.”

Rhys didn’t know what to say to that. It felt like he was getting a glimpse of a very different person than the one he’d left sleeping on her jacket by the campfire, and he wasn’t sure Fiona would appreciate him seeing it. Her words at the Atlas facility came back to him: that’s more than just my friend up there, jackass. Beneath all the bluster and the sharp tongue and the pointed shoulder pads beat a very big heart.

Caught up in another memory, Sasha grinned again, the gun temporarily forgotten. “Oh, but we used to run this con as kids…” Her eyes lit up as she told the story, and she adopted a theatrical tone of voice. “We’d convince someone we were the daughters of a rich couple, that we’d got lost or run away or been kidnapped and if they just took care of us for a couple days, our parents would be so grateful they’d definitely give a handsome reward.”

Pleased with herself, she looked at him, so infectious Rhys found himself smiling back.

“Really? That worked? People bought that?”

“Oh, all the time. We’re very good.” Her eyes widened innocently, she clutched at his sleeve, and when she spoke her voice was an uncharacteristic simper. “It’s really scary here, Mister, and I know we should’ve stayed in the car like Mom and Dad said, but we’ve never been off Eden-5 before, we just wanted to see, and then there were all these scary men, and—” Rhys motioned with one hand to cut her off. “Okay, please stop, that’s kind of creepy.”

She laughed, her voice her own again, and dropped his sleeve. “Worked like a charm, most of the time. For a few days we’d get a roof over our heads, hot meals, maybe even beds, and then mysteriously, a few days before our parents were set to return, we’d take off in the night with some food and whatever we could stuff in our pockets.”

Hearing ‘hot meals’ listed as a childhood luxury added another brick to the monument of existential guilt that Rhys had been constructing the entire time he��d be on Pandora. He thought about himself as a kid, tried to imagine sneaking out a stranger’s window with a handful of stolen silverware, and found it impossible to return Sasha’s smile.

“Sasha, don’t take this the wrong way, but that sounds crazy dangerous,” he pointed out.

Her expression turned cold. “Starvation is dangerous.”

She lifted the gun and fired again, and as the bottle shattered, Rhys mentally added another brick.

“Right, yeah, of course, you’re right, sorry, I didn’t mean...” He rubbed his neck again. “Just… I’m really glad you two… you know...” he finished lamely.

“Didn’t meet some grisly fate at the hands of a child-abducting monster?” Sasha raised an eyebrow, but her irritation dissipated. “Fi had a good sense for danger. But most people treated us pretty well, actually. I guess they thought they wouldn’t get much of a reward if we told our parents bad things.” Lowering the gun again, she rested one hand fondly on her bare midriff. “One woman made the best chocolate cake I’ve, like, ever had. We stayed with her for nearly a week.”

“Did you ever think about telling the truth? Maybe—”

Sasha laughed again, but with a bitterness that told him he’d just said something very stupid. “Maybe what, they’d let us stay out of the goodness of their hearts?”

Sensing there was no correct answer to that question, Rhys looked down, grinding a hole in the sand with the toe of his boot.

“Being nice doesn’t change the fact that they were in it for the money,” she said coldly, the anger that always simmered inside her bubbling to the surface. “That’s why everyone does everything. No one cares about a couple of sad Pandoran orphans. Even Felix only kept us around long enough to steal ten million dollars.”

She punctuated it with a bang, but for the first time her shot missed. She fired again, and hit the rock face instead. Growling in frustration, she jerked her arm like she was about to throw the gun to the ground but thought better of it at the last second, then rubbed her eyes with her free hand instead.

Rhys looked at the distance between them, half of him wanting to reach out and the other half pretty sure she’d break his arm if he did. He settled on taking a step closer.

“He must have cared, Sasha,” he said gently. “He wouldn’t have hired Athena if he didn’t.”

But Sasha only glared at him, eyes fierce and furious. “Why are you defending him? You didn’t even know him.”

“I’m just trying to—” “I know what you’re trying to do!” she snapped. “I know what Fiona’s trying to do! It doesn’t help, okay?!”

This time her aim was perfect; she eliminated the two bottles she’d missed earlier, and the silence that settled afterwards felt louder than the gunshots.

And then she sighed, her shoulders drooping along with the gun.

“I’m not ready to stop being angry yet,” she said, so quietly he almost missed it.

“Well…” Rhys inched closer to her, though he dutifully kept his hands to himself. “Not that I make the rules, or anything, but I’m pretty sure that’s allowed.”

The corner of her mouth twitched, near enough to a smile that he felt a surge of pride.

“Well. Good.” She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and gathered herself. “The thing is, he knew something was wrong halfway through and he didn’t tell us. It doesn’t matter what his reasons were, that’s stupid. That’s how these jobs go south. You can’t keep secrets like that.”

Her words wiped away the satisfaction he’d felt a moment ago, replacing it with something heavy and unpleasant in the pit of his stomach.

He hugged his arms across his chest and looked away from her, nodding vaguely. “Yeah...”

Lost in her own thoughts, Sasha took no notice of his sudden reticence. Instead she pointed to the target, where one lone can remained standing, already half-crumpled from whomever had emptied it.

“One left,” she said, with a bit of forced chipperness. “You wanna try again?”

Rhys turned his head towards her in surprise, arms still folded. “Um… but I…”

“Yeah, yeah, glitch, whatever,” said Sasha, waving one hand flippantly. “You fixed it, right?”

“Yep, that… is what I said I did, isn’t it?” Idiot, scolded a voice in his head that sounded too much like Fiona’s. He stared at the gun, his left hand frozen mid-way towards reaching for it. “I just, ah…”

“It’ll be fine,” she insisted. She held the gun out towards him, the barrel was pointing back at herself, and grinned wryly. “Maybe just do it… you know… naturally this time. No cheating.”

“Yeah…” He took the gun in his left hand and held it down at his side, his mechanical arm still clutched as tightly to his chest as he could keep it.

Once again his heart seemed to be doing double time, drowning out everything else. His mouth felt dry. He looked down at the gun, slippery in his clammy palm, and then up at Sasha, her wide green eyes trusting and oh-so-tempting in the darkness.

He could tell her, right now, and maybe she’d understand. Maybe it wouldn’t change anything, maybe she’d appreciate the honesty, maybe she’d even, miraculously, have some idea that helped, somehow, some suggestion that made it a little bit easier to live with a not-so-metaphorical devil on your shoulder, whispering in your ear.

Or maybe she’d hate him like she hated Felix. Maybe she’d look at him like she had earlier tonight, fear and distrust and a renewed bone-deep resentment for everything Hyperion. Maybe she’d want nothing more to do with him. The possibility was more frightening than everything else on Pandora.

He knew what Jack would tell him to do—maybe that was reason enough to do the opposite.

“Sasha…” Rhys started, but his voice died, and he had to try again. “Listen, Sasha, there’s something—”

But a piercing shriek cut him off before he could finish. He and Sasha turned in time to see a rakk perch right on Sasha’s chosen rock, its enormous wings sending the last can clattering to the ground.

“Oh come on,” whined Rhys.

“Shoot it!” Sasha yelled, and then, when he remained frozen, “Rhys!”

With an awkward cry of his own, he raised the gun and fired. The rakk was a much larger target than a bottle, and he was fairly certain he hit it, but it only shrieked again and lifted off of the rock. “I... think I just made it angry.”

“Oh, for…” Sasha yanked the gun out of his hands. “Give me that!”

It only took Sasha two shots to down the rakk, its body tumbling out of the air to land a few feet from them in a cloud of dust.

Rhys grimaced as he looked at it, crumpled on the sand. “God, this planet, it is just non-stop. Seriously.”

Sasha rolled her eyes. “It’s just one stupid rakk, it’s—”

But she stopped short at the sound of another rakk cry, further in the distance, and a rapidly approaching black spot on the horizon.

“Okay,” she said, “time to run.”

Her open mouth split into a grin, and Rhys gaped at her. “Are you enjoying this?”

Sasha only shrugged. But she grabbed his hand in hers before she took off, and as he was pulled along for the ride, moral dilemma forgotten, Rhys felt himself grinning too.

#rhysha #tales from the borderlands #rhys the company man #sasha the kid sister #oodlyenough i write fic

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nessdersino-blog · 4 years

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opalmothnightingale · 6 years

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The Right Things

12- 8- 17 -

There is no recipe, no formula. What is the right thing to say, to do, to treat another person with compassion? It’s not some math equation. There is always the element of uncertainty. Could this hurt them? Do they need to see the painful truth?

Do you need to say the truth so they understand so they will leave you be? Even if it hurts them, but sometimes there is just no easy answer or way to say things... You know, I feel it’s not nice the way I try to say things,...

That people are too simple, too boring. Most people would feel annoyed or mad and very judgmental at me. I’m not so wise, so deep, so artistic or spiritual.

But at the same time, what can I say? This is how I see it. When I need to explain why I feel I can’t get along with others, this is the reason. If I made a fake reason, then why? How would that mislead and lead others to try to find a way around that fake reason, when the real reason isn’t so amenable to being worked around.

As for the complexity, and the flipside of my depression, selfishness, irritability, boredom, etc... The flipside is depth, joy and wisdom, once I transform the problems into problems solved, answers found, joy created, healing slowly transformed and attained. I’m getting there, and there’s a reason why I am this troublesome and it’s taking so long to get there, so far...

But I’m getting there. Learning a lot about how intolerant people are of the problems and illnesses and complexities, all those easy, peaceful simple philosophy people... Not for me. No light, bright easy world... It’s far more complex and richer, for me, and I just can’t stomach the overly easy everything path. It really is good for some, but totally not for me. Leaves me empty and bored and unfulfilled. There are real human needs, and complexity and depth beyond simple, easy peace is one of my real human needs.

But I’m getting there, and,... Yes,...

I’m able to be happier, more grateful, joyful, loving, at peace, spiritually fulfilled, living my passions... But it will take time. I might be able to more deeply relate to and appreciate people I see as simpler, more ordinary, but I don’t think so. I mean, I do appreciate, but not up close, not frequently tie my life in to theirs. I think I am not meant to be in that role.

I might be able to love people like that but only if they let me be like I am and we have enough in common so that I can spend time together and relate to them enough, or else it is just beside the point. Energy or not, real life compatibility is obviously necessary. I can’t just ride along on the energy of the ones who I love.

How it is that I can feel the energy of someone and it brings up so many good feelings and thoughts? I don’t know. I just know it is how it is... As happened again. There is more than just the energy but the energy is a huge effect.

I want to write about all the ideas I have, the feelings I have, the inspired thoughts I have, desires to care, this and that... To see if the feelings are there in real life, if that ever has a chance to occur. To be respectful and not hurt anyone and make the best of this. This energetic thing, and all it brings up.

How it makes me feel like my Forest Spirit did. And feels like it can transform my life, my heart, my motivation and energy and enthusiasm at all levels. Can someone be very good, very compatible, yet at a different level of intellectual understanding? If that is how it is then can you still be compatible?

The energy has got me thinking about that, along with other things about the mirror people. If your worldviews and understandings of darkness, complexity, and so on are at different levels can you just enjoy caring, affection, passion, and a narrower range of ideas you deeply relate and share,... Just letting the rest pass like sand through your fingers, time, distance, space and independence. So not to get too enmeshed.

I want to make the most of this, say it for all it is, express it, so that I can always remember it, even if in real human life it’s not lasting nor even ever a real human thing. Can it become instead only spirit? Can it morph into my forest spirit? And maybe also myself, and others, a love for the world, for all beings?

Whatever it must be, but I know how powerful spirit love or astral love is, and that might be enough, if it must always be that. I just don’t want to let go of this astral/spirit connection, because I feel it might be well worth so much, for me and the other, even if I am not sure it’s anything to the other human.

May never speak of it, because before when I tried that always didn’t go anywhere or messed up the connection that was so beautiful before.

But I want this to exist, to become all it can be on the spirit/astral level, for as long as it may last. Even after death, as has been mentioned to me before by spirit lovers/astral lovers. They might perhaps continue to love me after they die, if they die before me,... As they are like healing, helping, sort of almost “saving” me, it feels like, yes... At times... I need this. It’s not so much codependent, but almost like, angelic, divine intervention....

But they said this to me, because they had some thought or fear they might die and leave me behind. They didn’t want to leave me behind. Wanted to be sure they could still be there the same. So they intended for this, strongly. It gives me a sense of peace and hope. If something can be that strong and lasting, even unaffected by death, then that is really just life changing,... To rely on something no matter what happens,... Never be so alone, ever again anymore.

Because this connection really feels powerful, and even coincides with signs that perhaps this is the promised lover from spirit, the prayer I was promised, the wish I’d be granted, the lover I asked for... Specially found just for me, by my deities. Is it really or is it my hallucinations? I can’t help think maybe the powerful energy like my Forest Spirit is telling me, yes,...

It is really Spirit’s gift to me, but then can I be sure I won’t make things go wrong, disappear, or that I won’t misinterpret the “hallucinations”? For what if indeed, spirit leads me on instead, to give me hallucinations to show me that hallucinations and energy may be enough in themselves?

Mirror people help and seem to correspond and correlate and be necessary, almost, but I don’t necessarily have to need them in real life, to talk about it all.

I can hope, but I don’t want to go there if it will mess this up, so I am still waiting on that, all while I try to heal my own complicated set of issues in my own life, aside from the lover dream and desire to have love and romance,... which may or may not ever really happen in material reality, and may be fine without it happening.

It’s so easy to get upset, to project, attach, fear, get confused, doubt, etc, when it comes to these astral/spirit and/or soulmate connections, or mirror connections. I think maybe the other people might also get upset or scared or something,... But I want to make sure it doesn’t go down that painful road. I just want it to be beautiful and enlightening, teaching us everything it can, healing us as much as it can, giving as much love to us as it can give, and parting peacefully, ending on a good note, if it must one day end, but lasting forever if it may.

Not to fear it, not to cling to it, not to label or attach to thinking it is something or other, the other person’s personality or feelings, not reading nor assuming. Could it ever be more? Spirit alone might guide me there because it’s too beautiful to touch for fear of shattering otherwise. I don’t want to spoil this, so it remains all in the hallucination and energy realm, not sure if it means a thing to the other human or if it ever will.

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mommy-of-a-t1 · 7 years

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So yesterday we had been battling lows since a little after lunch time… he just couldn’t stay up for very long no matter what we fed him 😧 poor kid had just ate about 15 minutes before this, he also had eaten like 30 minutes before that, dinner was at 5.. he was in his room watching a movie and I’m in the kitchen… from the side of the breakfast bar I had been standing at I could see down the hallway.. I heard his door open & he slowly stumbled out and into the living room.. as he’s walking over to the bar he is telling me he doesn’t feel good (his face is pale, he’s breathing heavy, he looks glazed over and just sad) as he’s pulling out the stool to sit down he says “I just want to sit out here with you guys, I don’t feel comfortable in there right now” and he just starts to cry.. I have him test his sugar and he was 52, the Dexcom says 49 trending down, which tells me that he is still dropping and the Dexcom isn’t far off of the finger poke. I give him something to eat and he sits there crying while eating and there is nothing I can do but stress the importance of stopping the crying & shoving the food in his mouth (his sugar tends to plummet downward when he’s upset, scared etc.) He stops, eats and then just sits for awhile before going back to his movie. Type 1 Diabetes is so much more than people care to think! It interferes with EVERY SINGLE SECOND of your life. Type 1 Diabetes robs my son of his childhood.. he couldn’t bare the thought of sitting in his room alone because he knew something was wrong! I literally can’t let my kid walk across the street to play with his friends in their yard because no one would know what to do should he need help, they all have to come to his yard. He doesn’t fully understand why when it’s 80+° outside we can’t play out for more than 30 mins at a time while the neighborhood kids are outside ALL day.. the heat sends him both ways.. sometimes he goes really high.. other times he goes low and we fight to keep his sugar up for hours after. He can’t leave the house without a backpack full of medical supplies & food that his life depends on! My kid hasn’t slept over at someones house but maybe 5 or 6 times in the past almost 4 years.. sure some people know how to take care of him.. but night time is the WORST, very rarely do we have a smooth night. I can’t imagine something going wrong and me not being there to do what needs to be done to try and save his life, because in that moment EVERY second counts! I can’t imagine someone else feeling the guilt should something go wrong. I cannot trust that someone else will act quickly enough and take the right steps in that moment should it come.. we must not let the fear and panic of the worst possibilities of the situation stop us from injectioning him with the only thing that will save his life until EMTs show up. This is sadly a worry that will never ease.. no matter how many years pass or how old he might be… this mom will NEVER be free of worry.. this mom will wake up every morning praying to a god she doesn’t even believe in to see that her child is breathing. Everyday is like studying for the most important test in your life and then the next day it all changes and all the studying doesn’t matter one single bit. It’s gaining a medical degree in a matter of days in a hospital class room and then being left to make life altering medical decisions constantly for ALL the days to come.. it’s endless doctor appointments every 3 months where you basically get graded on how well you’re keeping your child alive, you learn new things sometimes, you figure out what you did wrong, sometimes we argue and leave the office super pissed off. You help hold your child down every 6 to 12 months for more blood draws so they can run labs to see how he’s doing inside and make sure no other autoimmune diseases are forming.. it’s injecting medicine into your child that they need to survive but knowing that the very same medicine that keeps them alive can take their life in the blink of an eye. *PLEASE DON’T ASSUME I’M EXAGGERATING WHEN I SAY MY SONS CONDITION IS A MATTER OF LIFE AND DEATH* It is living in constant fear that you cannot show the world, fear you cannot show his because he needs to be brave and strong, for this is his life.. forever. It’s dealing with ignorance on a daily basis and judgment from people who have NO fucking clue what it’s like to live this life. It’s about trying to get outsiders to understand that just about EVERYTHING has carbs in it… you can’t just feed him randomly all the time, so YES! It’s every bit necessary to test his blood sugar, measure everything, calculate the carbs to get the correct number of units to give and inject IN FRONT OF YOU, no matter where we are! I will not teach my child to hide in a beyond filthy bathroom to test & inject; that’s like him telling you that he is offended that you secrete your own insulin and asking you to eat in the bathroom while your perfect body breaks down the sugar! He didn’t ask for this, you don’t have to look.. you could just mind your own damn business. It’s dealing with strange looks and rude comments from other people who as I stated haven’t got the slightest damn clue, people who don’t understand why you may be watching your kids every move and hovering over them.. always wondering why you just can’t relax even though you are trying to let them be a regular kid but you know what number the little machine says, you see where that Dexcom arrow is trending to… you know the reality of what could come… it’s about truly never really sleeping again, by now this part you should understand. It’s about holding your child while they cry because they don’t want to live with this disease forever, as they say they hate their life.. they don’t want to be poked and prodded and drug from doctor visit to doctor visit. It’s dealing with the always there every day school issues that occur with your child’s high & low blood sugars and how long it takes for their brain to clear and refocus. It’s mountains of juice boxes, gummies and glucose tabs! Fighting lows after midnight, arguing and yelling at your kid to wake up and drink before he ends up needing glucagon and a ambulance ride, or falls into a coma! All he wishes to do is go back to sleep.. & as a parent it’s about losing a huge piece of yourself daily because you are giving every single fiber of your being to your child and the ever consuming disease lurking behind us all the while trying to function normally still as a person and be there for the rest of your family… it’s about the constant worrying of all the other health risks and complications that go along with the disease that can appear at any time! It’s about learning who is truly there for you and who isn’t. It’s about packing for a small trip everywhere you go, making sure you have ALL supplies and snacks for lows and a little extra just because you never know! It’s seeing your friends and family have much more energy, enthusiasm and a more positive outlook on life in general, meanwhile you are longing to be able to do the same. It’s about holding your head up high at the end of EVERY SINGLE DAY, taking the deepest breath in and saying to yourself & WE DID IT! We tackled all these things again today and we will do it again tomorrow! This is NOT a pity party; it is a PSA to please NEVER judge others! Especially when you don’t know their daily struggles! A lot of people joke about diabetes, whether it’s because they are about to eat a bunch of sugary junk food, or being lazy! I can assure you that it is NO laughing matter. Type 1 diabetes isn’t caused by anything of the sort! There is nothing I could have done to prevent my sweet innocent child from being diagnosed with this vicious disease! There is NO cure, eating healthy and exercise will not change the fact that he still has it. Type 1 Diabetes is caused by genetics and unknown factors that trigger the onset of the disease! Nothing you say will change the facts! Educate yourself so you seem less stupid.. and who knows.. it could happen to you, your child, your friends or family.. T1D doesn’t discriminate! It can come at ANY age! & never think it can’t happen to you or someone you love. Education saves lives people.. stupidity doesn’t. ✌💙💉

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jelorin-blog · 7 years

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Book Excerpt: The Finder

Help me. My eyes popped open to a pitch black room. For a few seconds, I lay where I was, sprawled on my back in my own bed. I wasn’t sure yet whether the voice I’d heard was real or whether I’d dreamed it. The room was unusually silent. My tiny studio apartment was normally filled with the sounds of the downtown street below. Not now, though, so I figured it must be late. Even the drunks had gone to sleep. Everything was still, quiet; I convinced myself I must have been dreaming. Just as I closed my eyes, I heard it again. Help me. Groaning, I rolled onto my side. With one hand, I groped for my cellphone on the end table, knocking something off in the process. Whatever it was, I didn’t hear it break, so I shrugged it off. I’d figure it out later. My hand landed on the phone. I picked it up, pushing the button to light up the screen; it was only three-thirty in the morning. I groaned again. I really didn’t want to get out of bed but it had to be done; the voice wouldn’t go away on its own. I could ignore it, but that had never worked out. I refused to go through that again. Grumbling, I clambered out of bed and snatched the jeans I’d shucked off only a couple of hours before. Being sort-of psychic can be a real pain in the ass. I never know when a voice is going to call to me. It could be like now, in the middle of the night. It could be while I’m at work, which means I have to have a flexible job. Or it could be during the middle of sex, which makes relationships difficult, especially since I don’t like to tell people about what I can do. Having a psychic ability is also weird. It doesn’t always work and I have no idea of the full extent of it. Sometimes I can do something useful, like avert a crime or a death. Most times I just find dead bodies. I know it’s a turn off. Most people, I figure, don’t want to get with a guy who’s basically a cadaver dog. Last night’s t-shirt was on the floor next to the jeans. I pulled them both on. Too lazy to turn on the light, I found my shoes by stumbling over them in the dark. I’m not the cleanest guy. I can admit that. I work full time and I have this part-time job—answering the voices in my head—that I don’t even get paid to do. Between that and occasionally trying to have some fun, I don’t have much energy for housecleaning. So when I found a pair of socks already stuffed in my shoes, I didn’t question it. I just put them on. I finished off my outfit with a zippered hoodie before slipping into my jean jacket. Lately there’d been a noticeable chill in the air. I supposed we’d be getting snow soon. I wasn’t looking forward to that. I hated the cold. Someday, I thought, I’d move somewhere that was warm all the time, but I’d have to start making more money before I could do that. Keys in one hand, cellphone in the other, I headed out the front door. Outside, the streets were as quiet as they’d seemed from upstairs. No one else was in sight, not even a taxi driver or a cop. The air was frosty. Hunching my shoulders against it, I turned right and headed down the street. My breath preceded me in long white plumes. It’s hard to describe what it’s like when I’m searching out the voice that calls to me, like a cord attached to my belly button, tugging me in the right direction. The more I ignore it, the more insistent it gets, which is pretty unpleasant, so I tend to let it do its thing. I’ve lived in this area my whole life. I know it by heart. It’s easy to space out, to follow that tug without thinking. People who’ve seen it say it’s like I’m in a trance, but it doesn’t feel like that to me. I first started hearing the voices when I was sixteen. Nothing traumatic happened to trigger them. I didn’t fall and hit my head or get abducted by aliens or get bullied by the cool kids or anything. One day it simply happened. At first, I thought I was crazy, and ignored it. Great problem solving, I know. Then I started seeing the ghosts. Believe me, when you’ve got someone following you around, someone no one else can see looking at you mournfully, like you’re their last hope on earth, you start reevaluating your life decisions. In the beginning, I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t think they’d believe me. I dealt with it on my own for a while, but my friends could tell something was bothering me. They eventually wheedled it out of me. While they didn’t believe me at first, they weren’t jerks about it. Maybe they thought I was desperate for attention. A few months later, though, they were with me when someone called out to me. After they saw it in action, they believed me. I can’t say for sure, but I think the key to my ability is that the people who call out to me truly want to be found. That can be true of the criminals who sometimes call out to me, too. I’ve found bank robbers, rapists, and murderers. I’ve found lots of dead bodies, mostly ones that wouldn’t have been found otherwise, victims of murder or suicide or accidents. Sometimes I find missing people or people who are seriously injured. It doesn’t happen all the time, however. I can go ages not hearing a single voice. I can’t force myself to hear anyone, either, no matter how much I might want to. That’s what makes me suspect that maybe it’s not about me. Maybe it’s about them. Maybe I can’t hear them unless they really want to be heard. My former best friend, Ivy, used to say my ability was a gift from God. I’m not so sure about that. It feels more like a burden than a gift. It would be nice if someone could explain where it came from, but I’m not stupid. I don’t want any doctors or scientists finding out about it. Next thing I know, I’ll be stuck in some government lab being poked and prodded for the rest of my life. After I’d called in one too many dead bodies, the local police got suspicious and called me in. We had a nice chat and let’s just say we have a secret understanding now. They know a good thing when they’ve got it. They don’t want to give me up. They’ve currently got one of the highest crime-solving rates in the country. It soon became clear where I was headed: the club district, about fifteen blocks from my place. I had a good idea what I was going to find when I got there. We’d been chasing a serial killer the last few months. He’d been abducting young men from the gay clubs, slipping a roofie in his victims’ drinks, presumably taking them home, and then raping and strangling them before dumping them back in an alley near one of the clubs. Apparently the killer didn’t have a guilty conscience, because I hadn’t heard a thing from him. All four of his victims had called out to me, but I hadn’t found any of them alive yet. This morning’s victim lay in the alley next to Twist, one of the gay clubs I frequented myself. At first glance, it didn’t seem like he could be a casualty of the same perp. First of all, he was completely clothed. All the others were found nude. None of their clothing or belongings had ever been located. Second, it didn’t look like he’d been strangled. Instead, he’d been savagely beaten. I’d never seen anyone so brutalized in my life. My stomach turned at the sight—and I’ve seen a lot of disgusting things—believe me. His face was completely unrecognizable, swollen and dark with bruises. I could tell he was male and he had blonde hair, but that was about it. He was probably young, but I couldn’t be sure. Last, and most importantly, he was—in spite of his injuries—still alive. Maybe he wasn’t one of the serial killer’s. Maybe he’d been the victim of a hate crime, although those were rare these days. Maybe he’d been robbed. All I knew was that he needed medical help or he wasn’t going to survive. His breath rattled and gurgled in his throat. It sounded like it might stop at any second. Crouching next to him, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialed the emergency line. “Emergency response; how may I help you?” the feminine, professional voice answered on the second ring. “Hey, Susan,” I said. “It’s August.” “Augie, it’s been a while!” she said, delight obvious in her voice. Then her enthusiasm dimmed. “Oh no. Tell me you haven’t found another one.” “Not sure,” I said. “He’s been beaten to hell, but he’s alive. I need an ambulance right away. In the alley next to Twist, corner of Second and Main.” “Sure thing, Augie.” I started to stand up, intending to walk back to the mouth of the alley and flag down the ambulance. Before I could even get halfway to my feet, the man’s hand shot out, clamping down tightly on my wrist. Caught off balance, I stumbled and fell back down, onto my butt. My phone flew out of my hand, clattering to the alley floor. I cried out. I didn’t mean to but I couldn’t help it. The hand on my wrist had scared the hell out of me. I couldn’t believe that someone beaten half to death could grip so tight. His breath gurgled in his throat some more. It seemed like he was trying to speak but he couldn’t, not around all the blood. I heard him in my mind well enough, though. Don’t go. “I’m not,” I told him. “I was just going to direct the ambulance.” Don’t go. “Okay, okay,” I said. “I won’t.” I settled in where I was. Luckily, my phone hadn’t fallen far, so I was able to reach it without prying his hand off me. “Augie! Augie! Are you all right?” Susan was shouting when I finally lifted it back to my ear. “I’m all right,” I said. “Sorry, the victim grabbed me and I nearly had a heart attack. Scared the hell out of me. I thought he was unconscious.” “Okay. Good.” Susan was keeping it professional, but I could tell she was relieved. “Is he talking to you? Can he give you any information?” “No.” “All right. I’ve put a call in to Williams and Gladstone. They’re on their way.” Ah, Williams and Gladstone. The detectives assigned to me. Whenever I find someone—alive or dead—Williams and Gladstone handle the case. We’ve been working together for five years now. Gladstone doesn’t like me much. He’s a skeptic; even after all this time, he still doesn’t quite believe I can do what I do. I don’t blame him. If it weren’t happening to me, I wouldn’t believe it either. But that sometimes makes working with him difficult. He can be a real asshole. Williams, on the other hand, is polite to a fault. He’s never questioned my abilities. He’s never been rude to me. Actually, he’s pretty nice. He treats me good. I like him. I like him a little bit too much. While waiting for the paramedics to arrive, I made small talk with Susan. I was freaked out. I’d never had a victim talk to me like that before. Sure, they call out to me, but after that, they don’t say anything. This victim had gone silent, but he hadn’t let me go. I didn’t try to dislodge his hand from me, but I didn’t attempt to question him. I leave that to the police. Anyway, Gladstone and Williams don’t like it when I butt into their investigations. They like me to find the bodies and then mind my own business, which I get, even though it makes me angry sometimes. The paramedics were still prying the victim’s fingers off my wrist when Williams and Gladstone came striding down the alleyway. They watched as I was finally freed, silently taking in the details of the victim’s injuries. I stood up. As I brushed the alley dirt off my butt, Williams motioned with his head, indicating that he wanted to talk further back up the alley, giving the paramedics room to work. I followed, rubbing at my aching wrist. The victim’s grip was like iron. “You okay?” Williams asked when we came to a halt, noticing my discomfort. Gladstone rolled his eyes. He hated it when Williams babied me. I forced myself to stop rubbing my wrist. “I’m fine,” I said. “So, what happened?” Gladstone asked, tone brusque. He took a pen and tiny notebook out of a pocket. I smirked. It always amuses me how old school he is, especially since he’s not all that old himself. Early-to-mid-40s would be my guess, although I don’t know for sure. When you think of a cop, I can almost guarantee the picture that comes to your mind would look a lot like Mark Gladstone. He’s probably about six feet tall and he obviously works out. His shoulders and arms are huge. He keeps his head shaved because he started going bald. Sometimes he has the world’s most cliché cop mustache—when he does, it’s dark brown, peppered liberally with gray—but right now he’s clean shaven. His eyes are the darkest gray I’ve ever seen. I told them what I knew, trying my hardest not to stare at Williams. It didn’t seem possible that he could look even better after rolling out of bed in the middle of the night, but he did. I decided a while ago that Luke Williams must be a god because there’s no other earthly reason why I should be so incredibly attracted to him. He’s not even my type. He’s a few inches taller than Gladstone, and just as buff. He’s younger than Gladstone, although I don’t know his age either. I think he’s about eight years older than me, putting him in his early thirties. He keeps his black hair cut pretty short. Not buzzed, but not anything you could really grab hold of if you wanted to. His eyes are a striking bright blue. The real weird thing is, he always has the perfect amount of stubble at all times, even now, at four in the morning. I’ve never figured out how that’s even possible. I’ve got it so bad for him. I’ve never wanted anyone more in my life. I’m not sure when it started. The first year I worked with Gladstone and Williams, I was still with my long-term boyfriend, Dante. He used to come with me sometimes when I looked for people, but he never got along with either detective. Then he broke my heart, which didn't seem to surprise Gladstone and Williams. I’ve been unattached—although not celibate—since. Somewhere in the last four years, I fell in love with Luke Williams and it’s about as awful as you’d imagine. Falling in unrequited love with someone you work with is torture. It’s even worse knowing it’ll never be requited because he’s straight, complete with a tragic love story. His wife died of cancer six years ago. I wrapped up my story pretty quick, eager to get back home to my bed. “He tell you anything?” Gladstone asked, gesturing toward the victim with his pen. “No.” I shook my head. “His injuries are too severe. Do… do you think he’s going to survive?” Gladstone shrugged noncommittally. “He’s got a chance now, because of you,” Williams said. Gladstone rolled his eyes again. “You go to this club, right?” he asked. When I nodded in response, he added, “Do you recognize the victim?” “I don’t think so, but he’s not exactly recognizable right now,” I said. Neither of them could argue with that. After jotting down a few additional notes, Gladstone stuffed his notebook back in its designated pocket and walked away without so much as a “thank you.” Typical. When I looked over at Williams, he smiled apologetically. “Thanks, August,” he said. He’s one of the few people to call me by my preferred full name. Most people insist on my nickname. “I really appreciate your help. Do you need a ride home?” I don’t have a car. It’s easy to get around without one. I walk most places, or take the train if it’s too far. Sometimes I catch a cab, but that can get expensive. “Nah,” I said. “It’s only fifteen blocks.” He frowned. “Are you sure?” he pressed. “There’s a killer on the loose and you’re exactly his demographic.” He wasn’t wrong. Early twenties, slender, more pretty than handsome, and gay. Don’t think that hadn’t been weighing heavily on my mind every time I went out, but I know how to spot a creep when I see one. “All the clubs are closed,” I said. “He’s probably at home in bed. And I doubt he’s going to evolve his M.O. from stealthy drink drugging to street abduction. He’s not that brazen. Yet.” Unfortunately, I’d been around enough of these cases to be fairly certain about that. “Perhaps.” Williams’ lips compressed into a thin line. It was clear in his expression that he was reluctant to let me go alone but eventually he sighed and said, “Just be careful, okay?” “Always am, Mom,” I replied with a wink. Shaking his head, Williams walked away with a reluctant smirk, back down the alley to join Gladstone. I left, hunching my shoulders against the cold and heading toward home.

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