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askvanco · 1 year

Note

Singed could help them, if you hurry he might be able to help Silco.

#arcane #silco #singed #ask #zaundads #vanco #maybe sinco #who knows #ask about it!#progress the plot #YOU are the writers here

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howaboutalittlehelpneos · 1 year

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Sinco sora is obvious, I wanna see your thoughts on a different academia guy. Specifically that pirate guy who was there for one episode and had the world's worst deck. Not even sure what his name was.

(or if that's too boring aster maybe?)

I... Have no idea who that is lmao

I know the episode you're talking about, iirc it's the one that takes place on the ocean where Sora debuts Frightfur Kraken, but I legit have no memory of the guy he was dueling. I can do Aster though!

Oh Aster... You bastard of a boy...

I am specifically not looking at season 4 as far as canon is concerned. Season 4 undid all of the progress season 3 did towards making me like Aster, but ever since I decided that season 4 isn't real and can't hurt me, my opinion of him has slowly started to warm again. I still wanna bite him though.

#if you know the episodes then you know why.#thats all im gonna say #season 3 really was his peak fr #asks #blazmaniv

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caspercryptid · 2 years

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ehehe . hi. can i request some sinco? anything about them is great for me, but maybe something like from act 1 or perhaps even something during act 3... many thanks (thank you for agreeing to my extortion settlement)

What if instead. The world's fucking weirdest AU. Set in the same verse as that Jayvik Bees Fic. What if that. __ “Remind me again.” Vander says, his knuckles a little bit white on the steering wheel, “Why I am driving your getaway car? I seem to recall telling you I was never going to do this again— a couple of decades ago—”

“Technically.” Singed offers, sounding far more serene than he has any right to, “You’re driving my getaway car, and I don’t seem to recall extracting any such... decree.”

“Why is he here, then?” Vander snipes, glaring at the rearview mirror at where Silco is feigning indifference and glowering at the country landscape rolling by outside.

Distantly, Vander wondered if the interest in the fields wasn’t entirely feigned. Silco never had spent much time outside the city, this all had to be new, or at least novel. He didn’t know how long he’d been in Alabama. Or why he was picking them up from Alabama. Or why it was them—

The last question is answered without Singed so much glancing over at Silco from the other side of the backseat, and without a moment's hesitation.

“That would be because we’re involved.”

Vander kind of feels like he’s been punched in the face.

Okay, he rationalizes. Okay, this is fine. He and Silco haven’t been... anything. In a very long time. And it didn’t matter. It really didn’t matter what he did. Or rather, it hadn’t mattered since Jinx had decided she was tired of split custody and wanted to go live with him. No matter how much that had stung. Silco was no longer his business. Jinx still called, sometimes, even. She never said anything about Silco. He didn’t ask. So of course he hadn’t known about the... boyfriend. The boyfriend.

The boyfriend that is none of his business. But it kind of is, because they’re in his car, and it’s fucking Singed, because of course it is. And because they’re on the run from the cops. Because of course they are. Great. Fantastic. He nods, once, twice, realizes he can’t deal with this and reaches forward to punch another address into his nav system.

“Great.” He says. “I’m happy for you both.”

“You don’t need to strain yourself.” Singed says, calmly.

“—Yeah actually I'm not gonna, where’s Jinx? Tell me you didn’t—”

“At her boyfriend’s for the summer.” Silco snaps, scathing. “As you would know if you’d returned her call last week.”

“I had a lot going on.”

“Of course you did.”

“Well if you hadn’t—”

Singed clears his throat, with a definitive sort of weight, and Silco shuts right up, which both impresses and annoys Vander, on a level that he thought he was beyond feeling. He didn’t think he’d ever been able to shut Silco up that fast.

“I don’t believe this is a productive conversation.” Singed says, serenely. “Do you have somewhere safe to take us? Unfortunately this.... Was. my backup plan. So I’m fresh out of places to hide.”

Vander sighs. “—yeah, I've got somewhere. What did you do?”

“That’s need to know information.” Silco says.

“And I need to know—”

Singed clears his throat again, and then looks faintly pained, like he regrets it, and reaches over to grab water out of a backpack he’s placed neatly on the floor. Vander kind of wants to ask what else is in that backpack and if any of it would be admissible as evidence in court. He doesn’t.

Singed very neatly pulls the mask over his face down to take a drink of water, and then he says, with all the weight of someone disclosing the weather—

“We killed four people.”

Vander thinks distantly that actually he wishes now that he hadn’t asked, but there’s no taking that back. He debates, for a moment, the pros and cons of plausible deniability, settles on—

“Did they deserve it?”

“Probably.”

“...Great.” Vander says, and then resolves not to say literally anything else for the rest of this drive.

“May I roll the windows down?” Singed asks, “And have the aux cable?”

“Oh, sure.” Vander says, without thinking. “Just— lean up and grab it.”

Silco rolls his window down without further fanfare, and Singed reaches up to plug his phone in. Carly Rae Jepsen starts blasting out Vander’s car speakers, and Vander fixes his eyes on the road.

It’s going to be a very long drive.

#sinco #vanco #sinvanco #singed x silco #vander x silco #singed arcane #vander arcane #silco arcane #casper's haunted fic tag

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xaz-fr · 5 years

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I’ll edit links for previous chapters later but you know how Tumblr feelse about links but they're all in the zs tag

Set in a fantasy world of the semi socialist society Fey Alliance with magic, dick head dragon riders, benevolent necromancers, and even bigger dick head gods of mischief. The Zealous Servant is the story about a guy named Spayar who, has to keep his crown prince of a bff from being murdered by his entire family by murdering them first. Though Spayar just wants to take a nap and find a cute boy to kiss and not have to worry about his corpse potentially being dragged through the street after a war. Better win that shit then.

I will only ping this particular list once and if you want to be pinged for future posts a like or reblog will get you on the next pinglist. Reblogs (especially with a dumb comment but not required) are way more appreciated as it allows other people to see the work

@deadpool-scar-bro @golden-lionsnake @unburdened-billy @anonymouseyesamongwalls @knifox @massdestructionn @leprechaunsean @a-gay-lotus

The alternate name for this chapter is “spayar gets roasted by his entire family". Also gods Tassa is so good. I love herrrrrrr

Despite the cold sky outside Spayar could smell the warm spices of his mother’s cooking from downstairs. He kept glancing out his window at the Taldradin, the big clock tower, to keep an eye on the time. He had a meeting after dinner but before fifths and the time was approaching. He didn't want to miss it. While waiting for the right time to leave Spayar was writing in a notebook what his birds had told him in short hand, just for reference.

From downstairs he heard his mother give an exclamation and the excited sound of her voice but not what was being said. Maybe one of her friends was visiting. Spayar only had a dozen or so Dirinian aunties who were immigrants like his parents. But the sound didn't escalate like he expected from a group of Dirinians showing up to talk. So maybe a friend of his siblings.

His door opened without knocking. “Knock before you just open my door Duren- Von,” he petered out when he saw it wasn't his brother come to bother him for riding lessons again.

“Well then don't leave your door unlocked,” Von said with a grin.

“You’re back.” He was wearing his rain coat but it was dry meaning it wasn't raining or he was showing off.

“Yes, for the time being,” he closed the door and stood against it.

“Good news from Maker’s End?” Spayar closed his notebook and quickly wiped off his quill.

“A bit.”

“Tassa said you had success in Alderin,” he said.

“I did,” he beamed at Spayar. Gods he hated Von sometimes when his smile was like a beam of sunlight in fall.

Von made a hand motion by his head indicating Spayar should close the weave on his door. Von couldn't do it himself. He wasn't a weaver like Spayar and Tassa. His magic was faster and more immediate, his weaves being created and dissipating in seconds as a spell rather than a proper weave that lingered. “Oh, so good news,” and he got up to properly close the weave. The room and light grew muted, the view of the Taldradin seemed almost fogged through the glass.

“I have X’vazior’s full support,” Von bursted as soon as the weave coalesced.

“That’s good. But I don't know what fool man would pass up such a promotion.” Spayar sat back down at his desk. “Tell me you made friends in Maker’s End as well.”

“Nothing concrete,” Von grimaced. “It’s difficult to get makers to pick sides.”

“Unfortunate but true,” Spayar frowned even as he nodded. Historically most makers in the south fled to Gorum specifically to avoid being prodded into making instruments of war during a Conflict. One could always count on Gorum to remain neutral and thus untouchable in a Conflict. “But something?”

“Just talk mostly. Most everyone is too busy to talk to the fifth royal child,” he complained.

“But you got X'vazior,” Spayar said helpfully.

“Yes. I sent Tassa along after the first day so we could talk more. I think Tassa gave him the impression I'd kill him if he didn't join me.”

“You would have,” was all Spayar said.

“Yeah but-

“A praetor who knows you're weak is a card you don't want in your hand, Von,” he said.

“I know but…” he rubbed his mouth and it was distracting. “I don't want to be like my great grandfather. He threatened anyone who didn't side with him both before and after his Conflict and basically killed a child of every noble house of everyone who purposefully sided with his brothers. He didn't last, Spayar.”

“And princes who are afraid to make threats to get what they need don't either,” Spayar said. He hadn't forgotten the conversation he and Tassa had had a week ago about Von being too soft, too nice.

Von sighed. “Do you have any information for me?”

“Teldin is living in the Palace now.”

“Sakoth,” Von cursed.

“That’s about how I felt when I found out too,” Spayar said. “Fresh bread is also nearly half a bronze, it's almost impossible to get strawberry bushels and unless you know a guy it's impossible to get flour. It's getting scooped up by all the bakeries around the city.”

“Meat? X'vazior told me it's being taxed higher than salt in Alderin,” Von said.

“Birds maybe. I haven't heard of or seen anyone selling large livestock since I've come back from serving my time.”

“What’s your mother making for fifths?” Von asked.

“Goose? I think?”

“Hmmm…”

“You aren't even thinking about the food shortage now,” Spayar accused him but was smiling.

“What can I say? I like goose,” Von whined. “And it smelled so good. I might have to stay.”

Still smiling Spayar rolled his eyes. “To say it's getting worse as Asurala goes on would not be an understatement,” Spayar said. “Especially since no one likes going out in the rain and people don't want to travel the Lances.”

“Yes. I saw the state of them. I don't blame them.” The Westerlance had been easily traveled by them because they were on horseback but the potholes and ill repaired stone roads would make getting a cart anywhere difficult.

“I think most ranchers are waiting either for prices to go up for their livestock to sell or to hopefully wait out the bad winter with the stock they have now.”

“Neither of which is good,” Von nodded in agreement. “Is my mother in the city?”

“Yes.”

“Oh she's a sakoth,” Von folded his arms. “Last thing we need is everyone here. Tallasala is throwing her naming day party here too!”

“Yes. I'm aware.”

“Teldin, Tallasala, our mother, and I are all going to be in and around Assarus this month. This is-

“A terrible idea?”

“To say the least!”

“What did you and X'vazior talk about?”

“Mostly pleasantries. He told me he'd be able to rally the Second to me without much of a fuss. I gave him that letter Helida gave to me for him. While I was there he drafted one and had a courier rush it up to the Garden. I promised him food.”

“Easier said than done.”

“The treasury is not empty,” Von said. “If Tallasala can get mother to give her money for her stupid naming day party than I can come up with a reason I need money. I did tell him it may take time.”

“Yes… about that,” Spayar said slowly. Von cocked his head at him and Spayar told him about DiSol and the deal he'd made with the Adoshade and about Mali.

Von didn't even remark on it. “Have you gotten word back from Sinco at all yet?”

“No but I told him that he had anything to share he was to message me immediately and I'd pay for the postage to have it brought by wyrm.”

Von rubbed his face with both hands. “Spayar,” he sighed. Spayar hummed at him curiously. “Can your parents just adopt me instead?”

Spayar laughed. “While I'm sure my mother would be thrilled to have another son that doesn't detract from you being a Le’Acard. There's no getting out of that.”

“Yes,” Von said softly.

Outside the Taldradin gave a muffled tolling of the time. “I need to go,” Spayar got up.

“Where are you going?” Von asked but was specifically blocking the door.

“I have a meeting with the new thief lord, the Pale Cross.”

“We weren't done talking.”

“I'll be back.”

“I'm leaving after fifths. I shouldn't stay in the city.”

“Where are you going now?”

“Remember I said back in the west I said I wanted the Drake too?”

“And I told you you were insane but go on,” Spayar said.

“I’m going to the Wyrd.”

“Are you really going to court the Wyrm Lord?” Spayar asked, still trying to get out the door but Von wasnt letting him.

“A little,” Von said. “Mostly I want a personal flighter.”

Spayar’s brows furrowed a little then clarity came to him. “I don't like that guy,” Spayar said.

“You just don't because he and Tassa and insufferable,” Von reminded him quickly. “You know he's nice.”

“Yeah but he's so annoying,” Spayar complained.

“I want you to come with me to the Wyrd,” Von finally got to the point.

“Do I have a choice?”

“Would you feel better about saying yes if I said you did?”

“Fine,” Spayar sighed. “After Asümcest. I promised my siblings I'd take them,” he said before Von could argue.

“Fine. I'll have to change the day of our flight but fine.”

“Which port are we leaving from?”

“The one in Sinoulin.”

“Down there? Why?”

“Because my family doesn't go there and the less people who know I'm taking a wyrm out with my d'aelar the better.”

“I guess. Fine. Tell me the time before you leave after fifths but I really do have to go. Paper lord he might be but you don't keep men who kill for their position waiting.”

“What about me?” Von complained.

Spayar disconnected the weave. Light, sound, and smell rushed back into the space. He opened the door and gently pushed Von out with just two fingers on his chest. “When you finish the Conflict I'll give you more priority too,” he said nicely.

“I’m your domalim, I should always get priory,” Von whined.

Spayar just grinned a little. “I’ll see you for fifths. Don't mess up my bed,” and left Von in the doorway. He didn't need to turn to know Von was grumpily standing there with his arms folded. He mostly didn't look because he knew it would be cute and he didn't need that sort of distraction.

—

It had started to rain while Tassa stood outside King’s Casket in Cat’s Cradle waiting for Spayar. King was spelled the Fed way so everyone knew it was a turn of phrase. There were no kings in the Alliance, not in their tongue at least. To fight against the boredom of waiting under the awning outside the bar she was casually smoking a cigarello of posh, a native central Alliance plant smoked when you wanted to freshen the breath after a long day or you wanted the mouth stimulation of a joint without getting high. It was mostly smoked by children attempting to imitate their parents but couldn't buy actual drugs, people who needed to be the sober member of a party, and people who wanted to quickly freshen their breath. Tassa thought it tasted sort of orangy and with the orange season still some months away it was about as close as she could get to one this time of year. She was blowing smoke through a weave that turned the smoke into the shape of little butterflies to entertain herself while she waited.

Her cigarello was running out just as a buggy pulled up to the bar. The door of the buggy popped open and Spayar stepped out. Tassa took the cigarello out of her mouth and ground the end in her fingers. Spayar paid the driver and quickly got out of the rain to join Tassa under the awning.

“You’re early,” she said.

“I try to be,” he said, self-consciously touching his hair. He'd styled his hair nicely.

“You look like you're going to court,” she said and reached up, messing his hair up a bit with his fingers. It was too perfect, too sleek. “The Pale Cross is from the East, he doesn't trust fancy boys.”

“I see,” Spayar said, patiently allowing her to restyle his hair. She couldn't help but think he needed a hair cut. It was out of style for men to have hair long enough to tie back. It didn't help that Spayar’s wavy curls were thick and difficult to manage. “You done?” he asked as she got distracted thinking about giving Spayar the name of her hair dresser.

“Oh, yes,” she said and pulled her hands from his locks.

“He have a real name by the way?” Spayar asked.

“Not that I know,” she said. “He showed up calling himself the Pale Cross and we’ve been calling him that since he killed Jakkerty. Sort of rumor is he's from across the Spine, came here to escape a punishment of some sort.”

“You believe it?”

“I think Pale Cross is only as dangerous as he wants us to believe he is. No one questions him.”

“Fear of a knife to the throat?”

“He’s not above violence, no,” she said, pursing her lips. She had seen him threaten enough people to not want Spayar to get too close to him. She certainly didn't want them to become anything. “Also, don't touch him.”

“No? He's not as hands on as you?” and he winked at her. Her heart fluttered a little.

She refocused. She knew better than to get distracted by how cute Spayar was. It had been her undoing more than once. Like getting this meeting in the first place! “No,” she said seriously. “He doesn't like being touched.”

“I don't need to touch him, relax,” Spayar rolled his eyes at her.

“Good.”

“Now we going to keep standing out in the rain, Tassa?” he asked patiently, knowing she'd been stalking.

“I guess,” she swallowed and pushed the door open.

The bar was warm and dry with a small band playing in a corner. People were singing along. While the purchase of drugs outside of Smoker’s Den was was punishable by such a steep fine most people didn't bother that didn't stop you from bringing your own or from some places just offering it for free with the purchase of a meal. King’s Casket was the former and despite not selling it the place smelled of about six types of drugs. So the singing along with the band was sloppy at best. The bar itself didn't sell drugs or alcohol but rather a specialty to Assarus, a type of fish that was if prepared incorrectly would kill you and if prepared correctly got you high.

The bar claimed to serve it properly but Tassa had never seen anyone order it since she'd started coming here and she'd spent a lot of time here with Jackertty before he'd been murdered. He'd been as close to a lover as she'd actually allow and that was mostly because it made her job easier. And it got the actual man she loved an in with the thief lord. She'd had worse sex for better reasons and she had no reason to complain. Jackertty hadn't been the best cutpurse in the city for no reason. He had very talented hands. She missed him only because Pale Cross was more dangerous for Spayar’s health. Hopefully that wouldn't be the case much longer.

In a back room was where the thief lord held court. Had been for over a century. Mostly it was a place the thief lord collected their dues from the other thieves, cutpurses and cat burglars in the city. They kept the Guard Commander’s hand well greased with atrins and unless caught in the direct act most thieves were just forced to return the stolen goods and not worse. In return for turning a blind eye most of the time the thief lord was to keep his small underworld in check and not reach their hands too far. It was two large booth tables and a bench along one wall. On the bench was a musician offering good music away from the more rowdy band playing in the main room. On one booth several people were playing a heated dice and card game.

The other table had Pale Cross and those he decided he liked. The “court”, as it were, hadn't changed as much as they thought when Jakertty died. Pale Cross sat with a slight distance between them and he lived up to his name. He had platinum blonde hair and icy cold white skin with pale blue eyes like ice. Tassa didn't like looking directly into them. He was a surprisingly small man of slight stature and feminine features with full lips, elegant cheek bones, and a soft jaw. If Tassa didn't know better she'd have taken Pale Cross for a woman but he insisted he was a man so who was she to argue?

She looked over at Spayar and saw him take in Pale Cross too. She saw the initial confusion in his brow a moment before he decided that his opinions on the subject were irrelevant.

Tassa motioned Spayar to follow her over to the table Pale Cross was sitting at and leaned on the table a bit, drawing their attention. “Boss, your meeting is here,” she said sweetly.

Pale Cross looked from Tassa to Spayar. He leaned over to the warlock next to him and said something into their ear. They got up and patted Spayar down. “Oh, careful there friend,” Spayar said in his charming way when they patted down his crotch and groin to make sure he had no weapons. They gave him a hard look. “I know better than to bring a weapon to King’s Casket, don't worry,” it should have been patronizing but coming from Spayar it was pleasant, delightful even. She'd known him nearly two decades and she still didn't know how he made a threat sound like a compliment.

“He’s clean,” the warlock announced and sat back down.

Tassa slid into the booth but Spayar stood, standing opposite Pale Cross where he was cloistered in the middle and back of the booth. “Hello, I don't think we've been properly introduced,” he gave a slight hand bow. “I’m Spayar Hillsman Junior.”

“I know who you are,” Pale Cross said, his voice was high for a man and Tassa wasn't sure if he intentionally pitched it up or down. “I am the Pale Cross, what do you want?”

Spayar smiled in a good mood. “I guess this is just a formality of sorts. I use some of your men for my own services.”

“I am aware of that.”

“And I just wanted to make sure you won't cause me trouble than,” Spayar didn't say it like a threat but Tassa knew it was a threat. Casually she coated her fingers in magic and twirled them under the table. The basic structure of a weave formed between her fingers in case she needed to finish it quickly and cast.

Pale Cross stood up. They were at least a hand shorter than Spayar and didn't even have half the air to compete with Spayar’s presence. Privately Tassa thought it was rather comical that Pale Cross decided that they were tougher than Spayar. She'd only heard some of the things Spayar had done while serving his time but she knew rooting out Feds had been on the list. “Don’t think to intimidate me,” he said.

“I would never,” Spayar said graciously. “I appreciate your cooperation but I don't require it. Don't misunderstand my intentions thief lord, you work with me: not the other way around,” he casually put his hands in the pocket of his rain coat. “This is Assarus and I don't know what you're people have told you or what you think you are but I assure you it isn't my boss,” he chuckled.

Tassa frowned but also knew everyone in this room. They all, at one point or another, worked for Spayar. And the thing that differed between Spayar and Pale Cross was that Spayar paid and Pale Cross expected to get paid. She knew none of them were more loyal to Pale Cross than money but she was more worried that Pale Cross would get angry. That was how she heard Jakertty had died. He'd said the wrong thing or done something and Pale Cross had stabbed him nine times in the chest with his own belt knife.

“This is my domain, Hillsman. You don't get to talk to me like that here. You're a child and if you aren't more respectful I'll do to you what I did to Jakertty.”

The musician had stopped playing and people from the gaming table were half paying attention. Spayar was still just smiling in casual pleasantry. He sucked his teeth in amusement and stepped up to the table, putting his hands down on the table. “I’m not here to threaten you. I just want us to be friends,” he said nicely. “I like using the thieves in the city as my sources of information. I prefer if we cooperate. It makes everyone happier and everyone makes money. Now don't do something stupid like make me your enemy, Pale Cross.”

“Or what?” he challenged. “You’re just a commoner boy. What could you do to me?”

Spayar stood up and casually held his hand out. To everyone's surprise but Tassa’s Pale Cross’s knife jumped out of his belt sheath and landed tang first into his palm. Elemental warlocks weren't common and people weren't expecting or ready for one when they appeared, much less a mettalurgist like Spayar. Spayar put the point against his palm and casually spun it, it didn't break the skin. “All sorts of things,” he said casually. “I’d like some privacy,” he glanced around the room. The musician was the first to get up and the game was quickly packed up.

“Where are you going?” Pale Cross asked as members of his booth got up.

“There’s something you need to learn, Cross,” Spayar said, still casually playing with their knife. “I’ve been gone for two years but everyone still likes me more than you. Do you know why?”

Tassa got up but didn't want to. She gave Spayar a nervous look but he was just so sure of himself. So confident and pleasant. If she was any less worried she'd have found it really hot. The game table was empty and the other booth was quickly emptying. Tassa reluctantly left the room with the others. “Because I pay,” Spayar was saying as the door was closed, “Just like I will make you if you cross me.”

Tassa immediately put her ear against the door but was rewarded with nothing. “Come now Tassa, you know nothing gets through the door,” Philiphe said.

“I’m worried,” she said.

“About what? I'm glad that kid is back. Uhg that Pale Cross is so pretentious,” Bruna said. “And maybe now we can make some money again.”

She looked at them, “You forget how Jakertty got got?” she demanded.

“Yeah but Jakertty was an idiot,” Bruna said.

“Pretty was like his only selling point,” Lassie said. “That’s why you liked him.”

“Marginally,” Tassa said.

“The kid will be fine,” Philiphe said.

When the others dispersed but Tassa stayed by the door until it opened again. Spayar came out, his bottom lip split but in good spirits. “Spayar!”

“Oh, hey,” he said cheerfully, closing the door behind him.

“Your face,” she touched his face gently with her fingertips. “You should go see Mali. What happened?”

“We came to an understanding,” Spayar said. He let her fret over his face for a few more seconds before pulling away. “It’s fine Tassa. Just a lip.” Not just s lip. Spayar’s beautiful lip on his beautiful face.

“And Pale Cross?”

“He sees things my way now,” he said. “That's all that needs to be done here. Thank you for getting me the meeting. I wish it hadn’t ended quite like that but there's no helping stubborn people.”

“And what about you?”

“I told my mom I'd be home for fifths and Vondugard needed to talk to me.”

She sighed. “So leaving me with the mess?”

“Oh, he's not a mess,” Spayar said. “I let him get one punch in because it seemed like he needed it. He's right now.”

“Alright,” she still frowned that his pretty face was ruined. “You’re sure you're okay?”

“Right as sunshine, my lady,” he said in that cute teasing way he did that always made her heart skip a little. “I haven't felt this upbeat since I came back from serving my time.” It didn't take a genius to read between the lines on that one. “You want to come to fifths?”

“You’re inviting me?” Normally Spayar didn't like her around his sisters. Not because he minded but apparently his father had nearly had a heart attack when his little sister Anora had asked him what a whore was after the last time she'd visited.

“Why not? Not like there's anything else for you to do here. Cross is going to be a bit private for a while I think,” he grinned a tad recklessly that with his missed hair she'd given him made him even more handsome. “Besides, you know my addim, she loves when I bring friends over to eat.”

“Can I ask what you did to him?” she asked even as she followed him out of the bar, past the singing stoners.

“Nothing too bad,” was all Spayar said and they stepped out under the awning. By law all buildings had to have at least a five foot across awning that spanned the entire length of the building without breaks. It was to be water proof and do it's best to keep the sidewalk dry during the rainy season. It allowed for fairly easy foot travel which was all you could do in Cat’s Cradle as hireable buggies didn't transverse the little neighborhood, the streets were usually too narrow and winding. That and you were likely to get mugged.

The rain had picked up substantially since the state of the meeting. “But not dead?”

“Gods no. That would make my job far too difficult,” he said and walked on the outside of the sidewalk so any rain would hit him first. She grabbed his arm as they walked and he comfortably looped it through hers. “But he should be much less annoying for all our parties and more so for anyone not me,” he smiled pleasantly at her.

“I think I like post time Spayar even more than pre time,” she said, giving his arm a squeeze. He scoffed but was grinning. “I missed you.”

“Yes, I know.”

“I wrote.”

“I know. I literally didn't write back to anyone. I was far too busy being the errand boy of a war alchemist and trying not to puke at all hours.”

Tassa giggled, “That sounds like some of ours the first time they got on a ship.” They crossed a water logged street, rushing through the heavy rain back into the safety of the sidewalk awnings. When Tassa had first arrived at King’s Casket it hadn't been raining so she hadn't brought an umbrella and Spayar was without his wide hat. She was sure it had been a conscious choice to not carry anything in his person.

“Yes but this alchemist was trying to induce vomiting. It was quite bothersome after a while.”

“That sounds awful,” she frowned.

“You got used to it.”

“That wasn't all you did I'm sure.”

They stopped at the end of a block and Spayar turned to her, his pretty brown eyes serious. “I did kill some people if that's what you're getting at.”

“In not so many words,” she said. “All Feds?”

“Mostly,” was all he said and pulled her across another intersection. She didn't push anymore. Actual Feylon bandits weren't common but it was never fun to deal with them, same for Feylon pirates who decided to rob from their own countrymen. She'd made enough searing weaves into the skin of her fellow Feylon to not want to talk about it either.

“Have you heard from Vondugard?” she asked instead.

“Yes. He's joining us for fifths as well.”

“Good news?”

Spayar didn't answer for a block. There was one left and they could see rentable cabbies at the wide intersection where Cat’s Cradle met Swan Box. “I’m very worried,” was all he said.

“Spay…” she frowned but stopped when he gave her a look. “You know.”

“I do.” She hugged his arm.

“What’s your mother making for fifths?” she changed the subject. She hated seeing upset like this. Hated seeing him worried about dying. She wished she’d known him sooner when they were young and she could have pointed right at that blonde brat and gone ‘Spayar doesn't want to be friends with you’. She did not and never would forgive Vondugard for being such an unappreciative jerk about how wonderful Spayar was and how devoted he was. Vondugard didn't deserve him. She did.

She immediately squashed the thought. She wasn't doing this to herself. She knew Spayar’s preferances. It didn't matter what Tassa did or said or how she acted. She could love him to the Shadow Lands and back but he'd never feel the same way. She knew he loved her as his friend but that was all she'd ever be.

“Goose,” he said.

She wrinkled her nose a little. She wasn't fond of goose. She preferred squab or duck. But she wasn't going to look free food in the mouth. “Sounds good.”

They stopped at the sidewalk by one of the buggies. “Can I give you a ride?” the driver asked.

“Yes, going to Bellringer, Synerstock Street,” Spayar said and opened the door for Tassa. She got into the clam shell shaped cab and Spayar got in next to her.

“What end?” the driver asked, looking back at them.

“Underhill Smithing,” Spayar said. “You know the place?” They nodded. “There.”

“Right away,” and the driver turned back around and clicked to his poor sodden horse. But better the horse than them.

“Cut through Swan Island too,” Spayar said as they started down the road. The cabbie looked back questioning, Spayar just flashed his medalian from inside the breast of his jacket.

“Right away,” the driver turned his horse north immediately instead of continuing easy to go the long way around the lake.

“So that's how you got here so fast,” Tassa said, moving closer to Spayar, partly to get out of the rain and partly because she wanted to. He just put an arm over her shoulders.

“Pays to be me sometimes,” he squeezed her shoulder.

Tassa asked him more about his served time while on the way to the Hillsman home. They ended up sharing a few stories and the driver even added one of his own. Most of Spayar's stories involved getting purposefully poisoned at some point or throwing up. She would have hated being part of his squad.

Finally they arrived at the building and Spayar directed the driver around the side alley to the front door that led to the side yard. He paid the cabbie and Spayar grabbed the umbrella he'd left in his horse’s shed to get them to the door where warm smells were pouring out of. “I miss fifths?” Spayar asked loudly as he closed the umbrella.

“Nope. Just in time!” Anora was sitting at the table already. “Miss Tassy! You came back!” she waved excitedly from the table. Tassa smiled.

“Tassy?” Relora poked her head out of the kitchen. “Tassa, welcome back,” she smiled warmly and Tassa smiled wider. She'd been slightly worried Spayar's parents wouldn't want her to come back after the whole whore situation. “I hope you're hungry, I made goose!”

“Can’t wait,” Tassa said.

“Calli! Vondugard! Come down for fifths,” Relora called in a volume only mother's calling their children could muster. Or Tassa thought so. She'd never met hers. “Spayar go get your father.”

“I’m getting Tassa a chair though-”

“Go get your father first,” Relora said and went back into the kitchen.

Spayar sighed, “Just sit, I'll pull up another chair.”

“Alright,” Tassa said and sat next to Anora who was vibrating in excitement, her big loose curls quivering in their three high tails Relora had put them in. “Hi,” Tassa said with a wide smile she reserved for small children and house cats.

“Tassy, do you want to know a secret?” she asked softly, dropping her voice.

Tassa leaned down a little, “I love secrets,” she said softly.

“It’s about my big brother,” she said as Calli and Vondugard came down the stairs.

“Oh? Well you have to tell me then.”

“Spayar’s horse doesn't have a name and me, Duren, and Calli get to come up with one,” she said excitedly.

“What?” Tassa was so taken aback she sat up. “Spayar didn't name his horse?” she asked loud enough to be heard. Had she heard that right? What?

“He didn't what?” Vondugard asked, sitting down next to Calli.

“Duren said Spayar didn't name his horse,” Anora said.

“He didn’t— Spayar,” Vondugard barked when Spayar came back in with the other Hillman men,

“What now?” Spayar sighed as he went to go locate a chair of some sort.

“I gave you that mare three years ago what do you mean you didn't name it?”

Spayar looked at his little sisters with narrowed eyes, “I told you not to tell anyone,” he said, only slightly less threatening than when he'd been talking to Pale Cross.

It was completely lost on his sisters. “Anora did it,” Calli said mildly.

“Dooim, Calli is being mean to me,” Anora whined.

Spayar Senior looked at all the young people at his table took a deep breath and just went into the kitchen, talking to his wife in Dirnine. Tassa didn't blame him. “What do you mean you didn't name your horse?” Vondugard demanded.

“I’ve been busy,” Spayar dragged a stool over to sit at the table.

“You’ve had her three years.”

Spayar rubbed his face and looked at Anora, “I am never telling any of you a secret ever again.”

“I was just telling Tassy,” she said defensively.

“The point of a secret is you don't tell anyone. We’re not doing alchemy after fifths,” he said sternly.

“Alright everyone, that's enough,” Relora came out with two dishes of sides while Spayar senior followed behind with the carved goose.

“Addim Spayar and Calli are being mean to me,” Anora whined.

“Honey you did a bad thing telling Spayar's secret,” her heavily accented voice not quite scolding.

“But I was just-

Relora put the food down and went over to her daughter. “How would you feel if Spayar told all your friends about what you did the night he came home? Hmm?”

“I wouldn't like it,” Anora said, puffing up her lips and cheeks a bit in what Tassa thought was a very Spayar-like behavior.

“Exactly. That's how your brother feels you told Tassa.”

Anora just looked down at her lap, swinging her short legs in annoyance. Relorq got up and sat next to her husband who was half out of his seat putting goose on everyone’s plate. “I still can't believe you,” Vondugard was saying.

“I’m ignoring you,” Spayar said while he did just that and was busying himself with fifths, cutting up the goose and stuffing it and the baked yam into his mouth at the same time.

“Three years, Spayar. Three years,” Vondugard stressed.

“Don’t worry Von, we'll come up with a good one,” Calli said, putting her hand on the irate prince’s arm.

Vondugard frowned at Spayar before looking at Calli. “I fear what he would eventually name or not name it without you,” he told her.

“We’ll make sure it's good,” she patted his hand and as she did glanced across the table at Tassa. Tassa just rose her brows at Calli. Really? She was doing this? That was all she needed to do and Calli immediately snatched her hand away and Tassa could see the embarrassed flush on her nubby round ears. Tassa knew Vondugard didn't deserve Spayar but over her dead body was anyone ruining that for Spayar. At least Calli seemed aware there was a boundary. Good girl. Neither of the boys seemed to notice.

“Tassy do you not like your food?” Anora asked her, tugging on her sleeve a little.

She looked away from the royal drama baby to sweet Anora. “I was waiting for it to cool down a bit,” she said with a sweet voice and smile.

“De-de,” Anora said making Spayar look at her, his mouth full. “I’m sorry I told Tassa about your horse.”

Spayar side eyed Tassa and then Vondugard, “He would have figured it out eventually. It isn't a big deal.”

“So can you still show me some alchemy after fifths?” she asked hopefully.

“I don't want to,” he said and Tassa put some food in her mouth to not laugh at the faces the siblings were giving each other across the table. Their parents were willfully oblivious (or perhaps very good at faking it) to what was happening and were carrying on their conversation from the kitchen. Tassa couldn't follow because it was in Dirnine. Tassa liked this. She wished it would stay just like this.

#Wirteblr #Writblr #Original fantasy #Original story #Fantasy #zs

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haphazardlyparked · 6 years

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I love your writing by the way but I was wondering why some of your characters are named after trigonometry things. Like Sincos Tan and Pythagoras?

1) firstly, thank you so much!!! 😊😊😊

and 2)

my friend, there is a long answer and a short answer for this one, and honestly i was thinking maybe nobody noticed… :p

the long answer is @gingerly-writing once asked for suggestions for a character name, and because she hates math, i told her to name someone after sin cos and tan. she rejected it flat out so i think i said something along the lines of “coward; also brb” and wrote a Sincos Tan (only i’m slow, so the story came way later, like a surprise “boo!” you thought you already dodged.)

and then nobody stopped me from naming another villain Pythagoras, so i did. plus @rrrawrf said, and i quote, “name all your villains off math terms.”

short answer: i’m kind of a shit. 💩

#omg i love surprise asks #asks #about writing #shenanigans

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totaleclipse230 · 4 years

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gafou1 · 7 years

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@sincoe Ahh I’m super late on this because it was sent to my main account and I hardly log on there anymore. But thank you so much for tagging me!! ❤️ (I tried to answer but it wouldn’t show on my page so I just took a screenshot of the ask)

1. My creativity 2. My writing style (and love for writing in general) 3. My empathy for others 4. My hair- I have auburn hair that matches my eyes and people always compliment my hair, maybe I’ll post a picture sometime 5. My sense of humor- I love making others laugh so much

I tag anyone who wants to do this 😄

#ask

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investmart007 · 6 years

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HONOLULU | Maui hit with heavy rain as Olivia bears down on Hawaii

New Post has been published on https://www.stl.news/honolulu-maui-hit-with-heavy-rain-as-olivia-bears-down-on-hawaii/169447/

HONOLULU | Maui hit with heavy rain as Olivia bears down on Hawaii

HONOLULU — Maui was hit with heavy rain and powerful winds Wednesday as a gradually weakening tropical storm neared Hawaii, with forecasters predicting Tropical Storm Olivia could dump 5 to 10 inches (12 to 25 centimeters). Some places could get as much as 15 inches (38 centimeters).

The downpours started before dawn on Maui and the northern part of the Big Island, said National Weather Service meteorologist Melissa Dye. No rainfall totals were yet available.

Maui Mayor Alan Arakawa urged residents to store drinking water and warned that they should plan for power outages, landslides, high surf, fallen trees and flooded roads.

“Nature has a real funny way of not giving us advance notice,” Arakawa said.

Olivia was about 50 miles (80 kilometers) east of Maui and packing winds of 45 mph (72 kph) early Wednesday.

Dye said there were sustained winds of 20 to 30 mph (32 to 48 kph) on Maui. The storm, which was a hurricane earlier in the week, has been slowly losing power as it nears the state.

Tropical storm warnings were canceled overnight for the Big Island and Kauai, but remain in place for Oahu, Maui and small islands surrounding Maui.

A flash flood warning was issued for Molokai island, and a wind gust of 51 mph (82 kph) was recorded at the airport on the island of Lanai. The storm was later expected to impact Honolulu and other parts of Oahu, where Dye said some showers were falling Wednesday.

Schools, courts and government offices will be closed in Maui County on Wednesday in preparation for the storm.

Scott Zaffram, a senior response official with the Federal Emergency Management Agency, said emergency teams and supplies were ready on Maui.

The National Guard has mobilized personnel and trucks to the east side of Maui, said Herman Andaya, administrator of the county’s emergency management agency.

Hawaiian Airlines cancelled flights by its commuter airline, Ohana by Hawaiian.

Officials were worried about landslides in west Maui because brushfires during Hurricane Lane three weeks ago wiped out vegetation, Maui County spokesman Rod Antone said.

Maui’s Costco was a “packed house” all day Monday, but the stream of customers slowed by Tuesday afternoon, said general manager Tony Facemire. Lines at the gas pumps remained long Tuesday, he said.

The store was well-stocked with most items, but was out of lanterns, flashlights and generators, he said.

The owner of the only hardware store in the small town of Hana on the east side of Maui said he was determined to stay open so residents could buy tarps, screws or other supplies for their homes.

“I think it’s important for us to try to stay open as much as possible, without jeopardizing the well-being of our staff,” said Neil Hasegawa, owner of Hasegawa General Store.

The storm was expected to affect Hana starting Tuesday night, and residents were bracing for the community with a population of 1,200 people to take the brunt of the storm, Hasegawa said.

Those who prepared for Hurricane Lane have largely left those preparations in place for Olivia, he said.

“I think they’re even taking it more seriously than Lane,” Hasegawa said. “You can see the track going … it’s like barreling down on this eastern end.”

Hana is a popular day-trip destination for travelers staying in Maui’s resort towns. But Hasegawa urged people who don’t need to be in Hana to stay away because they could become trapped and take up limited shelter space.

Visitors Aaron Huston and his girlfriend Selena Palamides weren’t letting Olivia spoil their Maui vacation.

The Seattle couple stocked their hotel room mini-fridge with munchies and bottled water, “just in case we can’t go out,” Huston said.

They tried to get more sightseeing done Tuesday in case they’re stuck at their resort in Wailea on Wednesday.

“It sucks but there’s nothing we can do about it,” Huston said. “It’s better than Seattle rain.”

Resort workers were preparing for the storm by taking down beach cabanas, he said.

Public schools on the Big Island, Oahu and Kauai will be open.

Honolulu Mayor Kirk Caldwell said his city’s offices will be open as usual. City buses also will be running normally unless winds exceed 40 mph (64 kph).

“We don’t want to overreact and tell everyone to stay home when maybe it’s not going to be as bad,” said Caldwell.

On Oahu, Nakoa Ching prepared for the storm with a hurricane kit, food and stoves and had friends with generators.

“We cleaned up all the loose material, put (it) in the sheds and stuff but we didn’t go buy and invest in plywood or anything like that. It is what it is, you know,” Ching said.

By JENNIFER SINCO KELLEHER and AUDREY McAVOY, Associated Press

#down Hawaii #Heavy rain #HONOLULU news #Maui hit #Olivia bears #TodayNews #Tropical Storm #Tropical Storm Olivia

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ladycapuletwrites · 6 years

Text

Can I get an edit

Some corrupt cops are sitting at the table next to us, I’m stoned and eating pizza.

We had a big night on the bags last night; me and receptionists and some dorm mates.

Natasha is sitting next to me, we’re trying to concentrate on this weird movie we’re watching, but I keep phasing out, and I feel like there’s things I need to do but I can’t remember them. Virgo is at the reception desk. He looks tired. I’m not surprised. A lady came into my dorm room at 10am when he was supposed to start work to tell him he was running late. She stood in the doorway as he awkwardly tried to put his clothes back on without her hawk eyeing his dick.

I remember the hazy details of the night before. He’s one of those tall, art nerd types that I’m so attracted to. Long blonde hair like Legolas. I helped him edit his application letter for a job, and we celebrate him getting offered the position by buying a few grams of coke each and getting so high we can’t decide what’s real and what’s an echo of our thoughts. I mean, it all is really, isn’t it?

He suffers from coke dick in this situation just like many who came before him. Or more accurately, didn’t.

We end up falling into a kind of distracted and uncomfortable buzzed slumber together, after stealing some warm beers and sculling them.

I don’t remember what happened to everyone else, but here are the remainder of us, sitting on this long couch, forcing ourselves to eat pizza and watching a movie that none of us can comprehend.

We’ve ordered it from the Colombian version of Dominos, which is a thing in Medellin. It was only down the street, so it was the ultimate choice.

It occurs to me that I’m leaving tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

I’m headed to Cartagena to find Allan and Lucy for the first time since the beginning of the trip. I feel like a different person. I feel detached, in a way. What happened in Mancora has burrowed its way into me, and the anger and resentment that I hold towards myself spews out onto other people. I am disappointed that Allan wasn’t there for me, though I never asked him to be.

I look at the television. “Does anyone actually know what’s going on in this thing?”

Natasha looks up, piece of pizza rotating slowly.

“Ah, yeah yeah. His mate is a werewolf and he has sex with his mum. Also there’s this weird girl with a droopy eye whose face turns blue when you touch it... Oh yeah, and this guy saw a dragon as well.”

I look at her, quizzically.

“No but seriously, what is happening?” I ask, pushing the pizza box away, laughing.

She starts to giggle. “Look, the moon is in the alley, okay?” We erupt into laughter and the next thing I know, I’m furiously inhaling my last bump of cocaine before I jump in a car on the way to the airport.

Drake gives me a wide hug and I hop into the cab, trying to speak Spanish, but I’m talking too fast, and he’s shaking his head. Eventually, I ask him, sweatily, if we’re going in the right direction. It feels like we’ve turned around. My palms are sweaty, and my I can hear my heart in my ears.

“We go back.” Is all he can say in English, and I don’t understand his Spanish for about three explanations until I realise he’s telling me that I left my passport and wallet back at the hostel and Drake has told him to come back and get them.

By the time he shoves my stuff at me through the window of the cab, I’m already late. “Go quickly! Otherwise they’ll know how fucked you are!” he laughs, but it freaks me out, and I have visions of that one time I smuggled cocaine into Ecuador not long ago and if I get caught in Colombia I am well and truly fucked.

Somehow, I pass through the gates. A few people in the line for the check in look at me sideways, or so I think, I’m so high I can’t tell the difference between paranoia and general instinct. I manage to smuggle my huge second bag onto the plane, much to the discord of the other passengers, I got it through all gates though, all five of them. Swapping the bag from one side to the other, each time I move through a gate.

I’m sure my pupils are the size of dinner plates. I get into my seat without looking at any of the stewardesses.

I'm about three sheets to the wind, maybe four, but I've managed to ask in Spanish, appropriately, whether I can have a beer.

I mean it is six in the morning so there was every chance that she would say 'no', but she didn't.

She says 'in five minutes', which is basically the magic words, but five minutes too late.

I have realised that I'm going to rock up at Angel and Shaina’s pretty drunk, but that's not really a problem, I guess.

That being said I've literally written a bunch inane drivel that doesn't make any sense at all in my last note piece so I can only hope for the best, and for beer, obviously.

“Sinco minut” turns to “diez minut” and I'm still wondering where my fucking beer is. Thinking about calling the air hostess, but worried about seeming so keen that they say no to my beer request. Within a minute they're rolling their trolley down the isle. Bringing mercilessly slowly, my beer. Every second seems to etch itself across my soul and the cocaine pumping through me exceeds time and space. Wow, I have had a lot of cocaine. I think we got into about five bags, and I can’t remember how or why because the last thing I can think of is the girl with the blue face and the moon in the alley and the size of my hangover.

I can see they have a beer perched on the top of the tray. I'm pretty sure it's for me; the one I asked for. They are rapidly approaching and I think about the state I want to arrive in.

Maybe I want to be drunk today.

Some other people have ordered beers.

They have had to get more from the cold fridge at the back of the plane.

They hand me my beer. I think "I've made it", I successfully caught a plane when I'm a million miles from sober. I also am pretty happy that by the time I finish my (second) beer we will have landed.

Just at the time they talk about landing I ask for another beer. The lady doesn't even bother asking me to finish it quickly because I've just suckled a cerveza in seven minutes. I've been counting, had she? Well, yes.

But she's also got the most ridiculous face paint on, for Halloween, so she looks at me disparately from her tiger painted, somewhat pitiful face.

She must either think I'm terrified of flying, or correctly, that I am high as a fucking kite trying to fight off the oncoming existential I may have once whatever the coke was mixed with wears off.

It's an hour flight. You're in the air, and then you're not.

I’ve never landed with a beer in my hand, and even as people around me are unbuckling themselves, I’m still cradling it like a newborn.

This has been the easiest flight I’ve ever had, and I have a moment of terror that the plane might blow up at any point because things can’t be this easy.

I shuffle off the plane and am blindsided by the incomprehensible heat. It is so thick I am gulping at air, feeling like it is never going to go in.

I wait for my bag to come off the belt, and drag all three of my bags and all the layers of the clothing I’ve removed in the onslaught of heat out to the taxi rank.

I push all of my things into the back seat, but something is missing. My rainbow jacket. I had it just a second ago.

I pull my things out of the car and head back inside, frantically checking every step that I had taken before the conveyor belt.

There is no sign of it, but I spent the next hour in confusion wandering around the airport asking confused vendors if they’ve seen it. I’ve never been so attached to an item of clothing before, and it feels as if someone has abducted my child.

It’s a small airport, so after three rounds of looking I am forced to confront the fact that someone has in fact, stolen it. The thought punctures an artery of emotion in me and if I wasn’t still balls deep in whatever it is that is keeping me high I would start to cry huge, sweaty tears. Why the fuck does a person in Cartagena, the hottest place on Earth, have need for a jacket?

As I fold myself into the air conditioning of a taxi after an exhausted search, I start to feel the dread of what I have lost settle over me. All the pieces of new baggage I now carry with me, because every action takes up a little piece of your psychic space, and right now, I am carrying a heavy cargo.

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sinphonics · 7 years

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Not sure whats going on here. Maybe some voodoo shit. We're making noise nonetheless. And it's good. #sinphonics #minime #puresalem #tama #kona #konabrewingco #instantnostalgia #sinco #opensea #openC #friday #cincodemayonaisse #sincodemayo #beer

#friday #sincodemayo #instantnostalgia #cincodemayonaisse #puresalem #konabrewingco #sinco #opensea #beer #minime #sinphonics #openc #tama #kona

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haphazardlyparked · 6 years

Text

anywhere, in between

so @straycatreadsthat gave me two amazing prompts, and i cheated and filled them both in one.

“Where do you want to go?” “Away.”

Compass, by Zella Day (music prompt)

Where do you want to go?

He stretches, a thousand leagues all at a once, a thousand minds. He floats, drifting slowly, in a pool of emotions and memories that aren’t his. He chases a cat around a house, shrieking his delight; he practices moonwalking, alone on the ice in the driveway, bundled in his hat and gloves.

Where do you want to go?

The voice follows him even when he sinks deeper and slips sideways into the swift currents of human thought. It follows him when he twists and throws himself recklessly across vast seas of being.

In an ideal world, nowhere, he replies, finally, from his hiding place in the space between two thoughts. I want to stay here.

This is not an ideal world. Where do you want to go?

Rex thinks about this, for eons between each faint pulse of the world around him.

Away, he answers, slowly. He steps out into the open of this space. Away.

•••

“Rex!” Monopoly shouts because she can’t hear him anymore. Then a weight slams into her back, driving her to her hands and knees, and the breath out of her chest. She swears fluently into the empty air — and Rex isn’t even fucking there to hear. Invisible bludgeons fly everywhere, unseen and pitiless. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Crown go down too.

In the center of the field stands Sincos Tan, directing her power like she’s wielding two hammers. No wonder Monopoly’s body hurts so fucking much.

About ten feet from her lays Rex, motionless.

Crown is on his feet first. A circlet of light flares into life around his brow, and suddenly Rex is on his feet too, head lolling, and bathed in the pale glow of Crown’s power as Crown walks him away from Sincos Tan, towards the outskirts of the field. Monopoly staggers back upright, but is knocked down again when another bludgeon catches her in the stomach.

Then there’s a pressure in Monopoly’s mind, and she sees Rex again — faint, but real enough that relief floods through her, washing away a tight, tense fear. Use your taser, goddamnit Rex says, calm but very faint. Pressed close to the ground, Monopoly sucks in gulps of air and fumbles for the stupid thing. When she gets back upright, she sees Rex sitting by his own power, and Crown’s light focused on Sincos Tan instead, holding her tight in place.

“What the fuck!” Monopoly shouts at him, staggering towards Sincos. “Why the fuck didn’t you do that before?”

“She wasn’t still enough,” Crown grumbles back. “You know I need them to be relatively motionless beforehand, and — Monopoly what are you doing—“

She’s running at Sincos now, to get in range, but crouched low like that will keep her from being bludgeoned. She knows Sincos doesn’t actually need to wave her arms about in order to direct her force.

But no invisible blows come. When Monopoly judges she’s less then ten yards from the frozen Sincos, she raises the taser and shoots, unimpeded.

The spark of the taser ignites in a bright explosion, forceful enough that Monopoly’s knocked clear off her feet again. She doesn’t realize it until she’s flat on her back, staring at the smoke rising into the blue sky while Sincos screams and Rex screams and Crown shouts desperately, “MONOPOLY! Monopoly!” — she realizes she can smell the gasoline now, sharp and overpowering and utterly unmissable. She feels like a fucking bean bag, tossed back and forth across this goddamn fucking field of awful.

Sorry, Monopoly.

She almost doesn’t hear it.

•••

Rex doesn’t recognize the place. He sits on a patch of crayon-green grass, under a heavy, indistinct sky, and lays back. It’s utterly silent around him; there are no voices here, none of the endless chatter he’s constantly aware of. Rex closes his eyes, and imagines the sun warming his face.

“Ahem.”

He opens them to see Monopoly leaning over him. She stares down at him, brown eyes narrowed, the tail end of her braid dangling over her shoulder.

“Oh.”

“Oh is right, you fucking asshole,” Monopoly snaps. “I — I think I’ve just killed someone.” She pales a little at that.

Rex sits up, and Monopoly sits down.

They remain side by side, in silence, until Monopoly grumbles, “And you told me to do it, you absolute shitbag.”

“I know,” Rex says, but it’s not an apology. “I also know you wouldn’t have done it if you knew she was doused in gasoline. So I had to keep you from noticing.”

“Maybe I would’ve,” Monopoly says angrily. “Maybe I didn’t know tasers and flammables go boom and shit.”

Rex reaches out, and wraps an arm around Monopoly’s shoulders. “You wouldn’t have shot,” he tells her firmly.

Monopoly cages her knees in her arms. She hides her face in the circle of her limbs. “I still killed her.”

Rex shrugs. “She’s still alive. Maybe you didn’t.”

“If she’s alive, she’s killing you though.” Monopoly says it in a whisper, like the words themselves could make it true. She sucks in a noisy, shaking breath.

Rex squeezes Monopoly’s shoulder. “Maybe she isn’t.”

“Maybe she isn’t,” she repeats hoarsely.

They fall silent again, Rex’s arm still wrapped around Monopoly, and Monopoly still hiding her face. Rex stares at the top of her head. The odd wildflower pops up in the patch of grass in an otherwise empty space; Rex plucks them and tucks them behind Monopoly’s ears and in her hair until they start falling onto her.

“Okay, please stop now,” she says eventually. Her voice is wobbly and muffled. “I don’t even know where you’re getting those.”

“You’re growing them, of course,” Rex says. He holds up a pretty blue and yellow one when Monopoly lifts her head to glare at him. “I think this one is that time I bought you apology Annie’s white cheddar shells.”

Monopoly snorts. “Which time?” she demands, and snatches the flower from him. A bright orange and brown tiger lily sprouts into existence by her toes. “You did that a lot.”

Rex picks it, grinning. “Be honest,” he tells Monopoly, twirling the flower’s memory in his hands. “Did you ever really forgive me for that Halloween stunt?”

“We couldn’t get the fucking pumpkin off my head, Rex,” Monopoly scowls. “What d’you think.”

“It was a very successful night,” Rex says, unrepentant.

Monopoly laughs despite herself. And then suddenly she’s crying, her body shaking against Rex’s side.

“I’m sorry, Rex,” she sobs. “I’m sorry.”

•••

Rex remembers, again, being on fire — sunk so deep into the oily slick of Sincos’s mind that he felt her body ignite just as his mind did. She’d wanted them to go up in smoke together, Rex and Tan as one again, and so they are: Rex’s mind aflame in Sincos’s body.

#prompt response #straycatreadsthat #year of the orange #prompt fill

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investmart007 · 6 years

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HONOLULU | Maui hunkers down as Tropical Storm Olivia approaches Hawaii

New Post has been published on https://www.stl.news/honolulu-maui-hunkers-down-as-tropical-storm-olivia-approaches-hawaii/169347/

HONOLULU | Maui hunkers down as Tropical Storm Olivia approaches Hawaii

HONOLULU — Maui hunkered down for heavy rains and powerful winds as a gradually weakening tropical storm barreled toward Hawaii, while Honolulu hoped it would be spared the worst.

Forecasters said Wednesday that Tropical Storm Olivia could dump 5 to 10 inches (12 to 25 centimeters) of rain, with some places getting as much as 15 inches (38 centimeters).

Maui Mayor Alan Arakawa urged residents to store drinking water and warned that they should plan for power outages, landslides, high surf, fallen trees and flooded roads.

“Nature has a real funny way of not giving us advance notice,” Arakawa said.

Olivia was about 95 miles (152 kilometers) east of Maui and packing winds of 45 mph (72 kph) early Wednesday. The storm, which was a hurricane earlier in the week, has been slowly losing power as it nears the state.