#my black marker ran out and i had to finish it digitally
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Behold ✨ Dancing Isopods ✨
Silly thing I did for a secret santa last year.
#my black marker ran out and i had to finish it digitally#with my mouse#not fun :V#art#traditional art#drawing#artists on tumblr#ink art#ink drawing#pen art#pen drawing#small artist#isopods#bugs#colored pencil#my art
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Infatuation (18+) {a.h.} : chapter 5
summary: you needed a job. aaron hotchner needed a babysitter. the rest was inevitable.
word count: 5.5K
warnings: explicit language, drinking alcohol, smoking, building tension : )
table of contents
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"Y/N?" Jack called out from the kitchen of the Hotchner home. You had picked him up from school, like always, and he was working on his homework as soon as possible.
"What's going on, Jack?" you asked as you placed your finger in between the pages of your copy of The Centaur which you brought with you to keep you occupied.
"I need help with my math," he said softly.
You put your bookmark in the novel and headed into where the little Hotchner was awaiting your help. You sat down across from him and glanced down at the papers that were sprawled out in front of him. "What do you need help with?"
"Well, Ms. Kingston showed us today how to add and subtract with three digit numbers like 100 and all that stuff. I get confused when you have to borrow from one of the other numbers when you subtract," he said as he tapped the pencil on the table, a habit you noticed Aaron did as well when he was working on his own work.
"Alright, let me take a look here," you said as you grabbed the paper from him.
After a few minutes of explaining the way you go about subtracting the numbers to Jack, he got it pretty quickly. "Thanks, Y/N!"
You ruffled his hair as you stood up from the table. "You got it. If you need me, I'm just going to be in the living room, okay?"
"Okay," he said as he moved on to the next parts of his worksheet.
You settled back onto the couch, bringing your knees up to your chest as you read the novel. You were just reaching one of your favorite parts, your attention glued to the pages in front of you. It was the part where George, the father of the story, had spent his very last dollar to bring home a sandwich for his wife even though he and his son were stranded for the night because their car broke down. There was something about the sentiment, the idea that he would give up his very last dollar, that always warmed your heart.
Just as you finished up the chapter you were on, the small pitter patter of feet coming into the living room interrupted you continuing on with your reading. You looked up from the book to see Jack coming towards you, taking hard steps as he walked.
He plopped down on the couch next to you and let out a low sigh. "What's the matter, kiddo?" you asked as you placed the book neatly on your lap.
"I want dad to come home already," he said quietly as he swung his legs against the side of the couch.
"I know you do, Jack. But hey, he should be here soon. Want to watch a movie in the meantime?" You weren't sure what else to do for him. It was the first time that Jack had ever expressed that sentiment to you.
He nodded his head lightly, not saying anything to actually answer your question verbally. "Alright. As long as you finished your homework," you told him. He simply nodded yet again, his face more somber than normal.
You tried to figure out why he had the sudden mood change from when you picked him up from the bus. You thought maybe he was just tired or perhaps he wasn't feeling good. You knew that most kids always wanted their parents around when they were sick.
As the different possibilities ran through your head as you looked for a movie that the two of you had yet to watch, Jack's small voice piped up from next to you. "Y/N?"
You turned your head to look at him to already be met with his gaze. "Yeah Jack?"
"Can I sit with you?" he asked softly.
You nodded your head and straightened yourself up more on the couch so he could sit on your lap. As he quickly scooted into your lap, your copy of The Centaur fell underneath the couch.
"Sorry Y/N. I'll pick it up," Jack said as he went to reach down and grab it. You pulled him back up towards you and let his back rest against your frontside.
"It's alright. I'll get it later. Pick out a movie to watch," you told him. You passed him the TV remote and let him scroll through the different family movies, hoping that he would find something to occupy his thoughts until Aaron got home from his lectures.
------
As much as he tried, Aaron Hotchner could not focus on the lecture that he was giving in his class. As he sat at his office desk at the university, he flipped through his notes which to anyone else other than him would not have made any sense at all with the way that the thoughts were not cohesive and the exhaustive amounts of abbreviations that littered the pages.
He planned the day's lecture to be about Orpheus and Eurydice, lovers tragically torn apart, but he couldn't gather his thoughts cohesively to provide his students with what he deemed to be the proper lesson.
His thoughts were foggy. Jarbled. He thought he would have shaken the thought of the way your hands touched the day prior. But it was all he found himself thinking about. He wasn't quite sure why. It was a simple accident.
A simple accident that made him want to rethink the way he had been so closed off with you. The way he was always curt. He craved more, despite the fact that he knew he shouldn't pursue anything with you.
He rubbed his temples, sighing in defeat. At that point, the lecture was going to be what it was going to be.
Aaron gathered all of his things in his satchel and headed down to the auditorium before his students filed in. He shed himself of his suit jacket, leaving him in a baby blue dress shirt and tan slacks. He organized his notes yet again and placed them in order on the podium that was in the center of the room.
His students filed in soon after, a chorus of Good afternoon, Professor Hotchner, How are you Professor Hotchner? coming from them.
Aaron gave everyone a few minutes to settle in before glancing at his watch for the time. He clapped his hands together once loudly to get the attention of the class. The side conversations slowly died down, only a few soft murmurs being heard through the crowd.
"Alright folks. Let's settle in. I know today is Friday and you all are eager to get out of here so I'll try to make this as quick and easy as possible," he said, projecting his voice so that everyone could hear him. "I'll run through attendance quickly and then we'll get started."
After taking attendance and marking the absentee students, Aaron grabbed the textbook for the class from out of his satchel. "If you all could open to page 265 that would be absolutely fantastic." Synchronous opening of textbooks and flipping of pages filled the auditorium as the students quickly followed Aaron's instructions.
He began to walk in front of the room, arms crossed over his chest as he glanced out into the sea of students. "Now, does anyone have any ideas as to what the story of Orpheus and Eurydice is about?" He looked into the crowd, being met with blank stares, eyes glazing over, and even a few students nodding their heads back as they fought the calling of sleep during class.
Not one student raised their hand. He caught the students glancing at one another, hoping that someone, anyone, would have the answer. But there was no such luck.
Part of him wondered if you knew the story. You probably would know the tale like the back of your hand, being that you seemed to be meticulous with whatever it was that you set your mind to. He was curious to see just how much you knew about mythology.
He decided that the next time he saw you, he would try to find out just that.
Focus, he thought to himself.
Clearing his head of you as much as possible, he rolled his sleeves up and walked to the whiteboard, uncapping the black Expo marker that laid next to it. "Orpheus," he said as the marker squeaked on the board as he wrote the name down, "is the son of Apollo and Calliope. Well, that is according to some accounts. Some people say that Orpheus had a different father," he clarified. Aaron turned his attention back to his students, pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. "Can anyone at least remind me as to who those two figures are in mythology? Apollo and Calliope?"
A hand rose in the middle of the auditorium slowly. "Yes?" he said, letting the student know that they could answer the question.
"Well, Apollo is considered to be the god of poetry and music. Calliope on the other hand, was one of the nine muses. She was the muse of history," the girl answered.
Aaron shook his head, placing his hands on his hips and he continued to pace back and forth in the front of the room. "Close. Calliope is actually the muse of poetry. Clio was the muse of history," he explained. "But I'm sure you knew that, right Ms. Sinclair?" he said with a small smirk on his face.
The girl nodded and scribbled down some more notes in her notebook, frantic to capture each and every word that Aaron uttered throughout the rest of the lecture.
Aaron took a brief pause and scanned through the crowd yet again. When he noticed one of his students clearly scrolling on his phone rather than focusing on the lecture, he debated about whether or not he should say something. But when the student started to show his phone around to those near him, he knew he would have to address the obvious distraction from the lecture.
"Mr. McMillan, if your phone is more important than listening to the rest of this lecture, which does cover a large part of your final, please be my guest and take the rest of the day for yourself," Aaron said as he raised his hand towards the door, suggesting that the boy leave the auditorium. He watched as the boy's face turned a shade of pink as he slipped the phone into his pocket. Aaron mouthed a small thank you to the student and continued with the lecture.
"As I was saying, with the help of Ms. Sinclair, Orpheus is the son of Apollo and Calliope. Eurydice," he said as he wrote the next name down on the board and drew a line connecting the two names together, "on the other hand was a beautiful Spartan princess. She married Orpheus. He played her beautiful songs on his lyre, which is just a smaller version of a harp. Orpheus was an exceptional musician. But that makes sense considering who his parents were."
He leaned back against his desk, partially sitting on top of it. He crossed his feet and rested his hands on each side of him on the desk to hold himself up. "However, tragedy struck the young couple. Eurydice was bit by a snake and died. Orpheus was heartbroken. So much so that he only played the most somber and melancholy songs on his lyre. "
Aaron paused for a moment, letting his students jot down their notes onto their paper. "But that didn't discourage Orpheus from fighting for his true love."
Aaron pushed himself off the desk and started to pace again, rubbing his thumb against his pointer finger as he walked. "He was not willing to give up so easily. So, he came up with a plan."
He walked over to the whiteboard again and wrote the word Underworld on the board. "Now, what are some things you know about the Underworld?"
"It's Hades' domain," a student called out.
Aaron drew an arrow from the word and wrote Hades underneath it. "And Hades is?"
"Zeus' brother," the same student replied.
"Very good. What else do we know about this Underworld, the realm where the souls of the departed end up in Greek mythology?" Aaron probed.
"River Styx!" another student called out enthusiastically.
"Mhm." He added another line to the diagram and turned to face the student that answered. "What about the River Styx?"
"I don't know. I just know it's there," the student laughed.
"Fair enough," Aaron said with a small smile. "We'll be covering that within the next few lessons so I won't worry about drilling it into your heads for the time being. One thing that I do want to mention is Cerberus, the three headed dog that guards the entrance of the Underworld. That will be important for the rest of the tale of Orpheus and Eurydice."
Aaron paused yet again, settling back onto the top of the desk but this time he was fully seated on it, his legs dangling off the side. "Now, Orpheus, being heartbroken at the loss of his wife, came up with a plan. He decided to travel to the Underworld to try to regain his love."
"That's crazy. Who would want to go to that place? I mean, I get it he loved the girl but is that even possible?" a student asked.
"It was a wild plan, I will give you that. But Orpheus succeeded. He traveled to the Underworld and managed to strike a deal with Hades after playing his music for him. The ruler of the Underworld was so moved that he granted Orpheus his wish to bring Eurydice back to the land of the living. Hell, the stories even say that Cerberus, the ferocious guardian of the entrance of the Underworld, was howling in despair of the pain Orpheus' music suggested."
A hand rose amongst the crowd. Aaron took his glasses off, gently biting down on the end of the arm of them. He raised his eyebrows at the student, allowing them to speak.
"There's no way that he got her back that easily. Greek mythology seems to, for the most part, at least stem from some kind of tragedy," the student said, clearly not believing that the tale would end happily ever after.
Aaron took his glasses out of his mouth and shook them in the direction of the student. "Excellent observation, Mr. Roth. That brings us to the next part of our tale. Hades gave Orpheus a stipulation; his wife would be brought back to the land of the living as long as Orpheus did not look back at her while they were still in the Underworld."
He hopped off his desk and hooked his glasses onto the collar of his shirt as he continued with the lecture. "Orpheus made the journey back to the light, but he turned around too soon, full of excitement to be reunited with his wife. She vanished before his eyes and he was heartbroken yet again."
"So the moral of the story is to be patient and have trust in the situations that you find yourself in?" a voice called out.
"Precisely," Aaron said, his voice soft. He glanced down at his watch. "I think that's enough for today. For the next class, think of a time in your life where this story applies. A time where you were impatient and lost something that you worked so desperately hard to get. Class dismissed."
The students filed out of the room quickly, allowing Aaron to follow behind them with his satchel tucked under his arm, the same fervor coursing through his veins to get home. He wanted to see Jack.
He wanted to see you.
————
"Oh! You sank my battleship!" you hollered dramatically as Jack managed to get another one of your ships clear off the board.
"Yes!" he shouted, throwing his fist up in success.
You were happy to see him going back to his normal, happy self. Whatever was bothering him earlier had managed to subside by the time you were done watching The Lion King.
The familiar car alarm chirped in the driveway, causing loyal Buster to run to the door in anticipation to see his owner.
You felt almost the same degree of excitement flowing through your body. It was the first time you were seeing Aaron since his touch was embedded into your head. You were wondering if things would be different. If he would be different.
As the front door opened, Jack ran over to his father and wrapped his arms tightly around his waist. "Hey buddy," Aaron said with a small chuckle as he patted Jack's back.
"I missed you today," Jack said quietly as he looked up at his father.
"I miss you everyday," Aaron said with a smile. His gaze turned to you and he kept the smile plastered on his face. "How's it going, Y/N?"
"Pretty good. Jack just sunk my battleship...again," you joked, feigning annoyance.
Aaron's smile grew a bit wider, the dimples on his face making another appearance.
You couldn't help but smile at him. His smile was contagious and gorgeous. You felt like it was such a rare occasion that he smiled, even though he was smiling more often around you, that you always studied the way his face looked so you would never forget it.
Aaron headed into the kitchen with his things with Jack following close behind. You followed a few moments after, ready to gather your things and head home.
When you came into the kitchen, you saw Aaron place a hand on his hip as he looked down at Jack who held his hands together tightly in a pleading motion.
"Come on, Dad! It will be fun," Jack begged. He put on a big smile for his father, trying to convince him further to whatever idea he had planned.
"Alright, Jack. I wouldn't mind that. Ask her," Aaron said as he turned his attention towards you. You felt yourself get nervous, not sure as to what it was that Jack was about to ask you.
Jack took a step forward and planted himself in front of you as he looked up at you with big, puppy dog eyes. "Y/N, do you want to stay and have dinner with us?" Jack asked excitedly.
"Oh," you said with shock. Your stomach fluttered at the thought of actually staying and spending time with Aaron, even if Jack was still there. But the rational part of your head was yelling at you to leave. You already were thinking about Aaron too much and you were sure you would be even further doomed if you were subject to his charm and wit for the night. "Maybe another time, Jack. I think Esmé was planning on making a nice fancy dinner tonight."
"Please, Y/N," Jack pleaded. "Stay with us and eat." He held his hands firmly together again in a similar fashion to how he was begging his father to go along with the idea in the first place.
You clicked your tongue and scratched the back of your neck, unsure as to what other excuse you could come up with. "I don't want to intrude on the time you and your dad have together, buddy."
Aaron crossed his arms across his chest and you saw him raise his eyebrows for a quick second behind his glasses. "Stay, Y/N. I'm a pretty good cook," Aaron said with a smirk growing on his face.
You felt your stomach twist further into knots at the thought that one, Aaron wanted you to stay and two, that he was going to be cooking some sort of meal for you.
Aaron, on the other hand, felt desperate. He wanted—no, he needed you to stay. He wanted to learn everything there was about you. He wanted to know your passions, your fears. As his eyes searched yours, he saw the battle that was going on in your head as to whether or not you should stay or go.
He was hoping you couldn't see the way he crossed his fingers together subtly, a silent prayer that you would stay.
He didn't know what was coming over him. All he knew was that at that moment, he didn't want you to leave the house. He had tried to push you out of his head all day, but seeing you here at his house and your gorgeous smile, it was taking everything in his power to keep his composure as he felt himself succumbing to his desire to want to be close to you.
You weren't sure what it was but the way Aaron was staring at you, his eyes soft, it was as if he was subtly begging you to stay.
You knew you shouldn't. You already were feeling things that you never thought you would for the man. But a part of you was curious to try to figure out if he was feeling something similar.
"Alright, fine," you said defeated, throwing your hands up in the air. "I'll stay." Jack let out an excited yell before running back into the living room.
You could have sworn you saw Aaron exhale deeply once you came to your decision, as if he was relieved that you were actually staying. "But I'm telling you now Hotchner, if you're not as good a cook as you say you are, there will be hell to pay," you teased as you pointed your finger in his direction.
And to your surprise, Aaron laughed. He genuinely laughed. It was a sound that was pure music to your ears, something that you wished you could have turned back time to get it on a recording.
"I promise. I am a good cook," he said as he turned around and began to take out some different pots and pans.
You walked next to him and leaned up against the counter. "What exactly are you planning on making?"
He turned his gaze to you, a smug look growing on his face. "Well where's the fun in that? It's a surprise," he said quietly, leaning closer in your direction.
You caught a quick whiff of his cologne, the smell of cedar quickly filling your airspace. You bit down on your bottom lip, the closeness to him becoming almost too much to handle.
His warm honey eyes darted down to your lips and back up to your own eyes. He cleared his throat and stood back up straight, starting to pull some random ingredients out of the cabinet in front of him.
You shut your eyes for a second, disappointed by how quickly he stood away from you. "I'll be in the living room with Jack," you said. He nodded silently, making his rounds in the kitchen to cook.
As you made your way into the living room, you couldn't help but think about how close he was. You could have reached your hand out and stroked his cheek. You could have been putty melting in his hands.
Aaron watched you walk out of the kitchen, knowing that you wouldn't see his eyes raking across your body. Your perfume lingered in the space where you were in the kitchen, reminding Aaron just how close his face was to yours, how he could have pulled you by your cheeks to brush his lips against yours.
He wanted you. And he wasn't sure how much longer he could hold back.
———-
"Oh my god," you sighed in content as you took a bite of the food Aaron prepared. He made fettuccine alfredo with chicken. All from scratch.
His eyes shot towards you as he heard the sound of satisfaction fall on your lips. He raised an eyebrow at you, taking a bite of the chicken that rested on his plate. "So, did I live up to your expectations?"
"Mhm," was all you could muster as you took another bite of the pasta.
You watched as Jack twirled the pasta around his fork. He popped it into his mouth and gave his dad a thumbs up. "It tastes good, Dad. I could eat the whole pot!"
"That's an awful lot of pasta," you joked as you took a small sip of the chardonnay that Aaron had poured for the two of you. He insisted it made the meal but you were wondering if it had different indications than what he led on.
"Yeah it is but I could eat it," Jack said. Aaron rolled his eyes jokingly at his son's active imagination.
A few minutes passed and you all were eating in content. This time, there was a much more comfortable silence that fell between you all, something that you could easily get used to.
"So, Y/N, what made you pick up an interest in Greek mythology?" Aaron asked, clearly ripping off the bandaid he had been gripping to all day. He had to know. He wanted to know more about you.
"I took a class in high school, actually. And from there, I've done most of my learning on my own. I don't know," you laughed softly.
God your laugh. Aaron would never get over hearing it. He took a sip of his wine and glanced at you over the rim of the glass, watching you absentmindedly twirl your fork around in the pasta.
"I just find it interesting that there's so many stories that they came up with and they all have some sort of deeper meaning to them."
Aaron nodded in agreement, finding himself entranced with your words. You were right of course. There were so many things those stories explained, like the natural world or even as something simple to not be selfish.
"That's why I like them so much. The interpretation of them all varies and you can learn so much," he added.
"I like the ones with Jason and the Astronauts," Jack interrupted. Small laughs from you and Aaron filled the space between you at Jack's mispronunciation.
"Argonauts," you and Aaron said at the same time, correcting the young Hotchner.
Jack scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. "What's the word?" he asked.
"Argonauts," Aaron repeated.
"Astronauts is cooler," Jack concluded as he took another bite of his chicken. "Can I be excused?"
Aaron glanced at his plate and pointed his fork in the direction of his son's food. "Eat another bite of chicken and you can be."
Jack scarfed down the chicken quickly and left the table.
Realization hit you rather quickly.
It was just you and Aaron. A tinge of pink fell across your face at the fact that you were alone with Aaron.
You cleared your throat and shifted in your seat, sitting up straighter. "So, how did your lecture go today?" you asked.
Aaron shrugged his shoulders and kept his gaze on his plate. "Could have gone better, I suppose."
"What did you talk about?" You took another drink of your wine and this time, it was you glancing at him over the rim of the glass.
"Orpheus and Eurydice."
"That's a good one. Heartbreaking in the end but I like the story of it all," you admitted.
Of course you knew it. Aaron figured you would. He wished you could have been in his class. You clearly knew so much about the subject matter and he was becoming impressed the more you spoke.
"It's definitely one of the sadder ones," he agreed.
You placed your fork down on your napkin, full from the delicious dinner you just ate. "I think it's one of the best representations of agape in Greek mythology that there is," you added, running your finger along the rim of your wine glass.
Aaron felt his nerves go wild.
Agape?
How the hell did you know about that?
You certainly kept him on his toes.
"And you know about agape, the Greek word for the concept of self-sacrificing love. I have to say, Y/N, I really wasn't expecting you to be so well versed in the subject," he admitted. "But figures, a smart girl like you would go above and beyond to learn about whatever you set your mind to." He took another sip of his wine and his eyes were looking at you more intently.
You definitely felt your face blush at his words. You tried to keep your composure as best as possible, but how could you when he was being so fucking charming and looking at you the way he was?
"I am just full of surprises," you teased, making your voice almost a whisper.
You watched as Aaron licked his lips and raised his eyebrows. "You most certainly are," he agreed, his words coming out with an exhale. "Question for you though."
"Hm?"
"What makes you think that the tale of Orpheus and Eurydice is full of agape?" he challenged.
You took a moment to try to cohesively get your thoughts together. Well, as best you could with the way Aaron was looking at you.
"Well for starters, the man literally went to the Underworld to try to get his wife back. It was an unheard of feat. And the fact that Orpheus was willing to do whatever it took to get her back just shows how much he couldn't live without her. How much he loved her."
Aaron nodded slowly, finishing the rest of his wine. "You make a good point there," he said after he swallowed the chardonnay.
You nodded in agreement. You couldn't believe that you were engaging in such a deep conversation with Aaron. But it felt so natural. So right.
You glanced at the clock, seeing that it was almost 9pm. "I think I better get going," you said quietly. You pushed yourself away from the table and placed your dishes in the sink.
When you turned around to go grab your things, you bumped into a solid mass.
Aaron.
He grunted lightly at the contact, a flicker of his smile dancing across his lips.
"Sorry," you said quickly as he looked down at you. You stared at him for a second, as he did to you, before pulling yourself out of your trance and stepping around him to grab your belongings.
"Not a problem," he said as he placed his and Jack's dishes in the sink. "Let me walk you out." You nodded silently and watched as he grabbed the pack of cigarettes off the counter.
He patted the bottom of the carton against his palm before taking one of the cigarettes out, resting it between his lips as he walked with you towards the door.
He opened the door for you and you turned to say your goodbyes.
As much as you truly didn't want to.
"Thank you for dinner," you said with a smile.
"Don't worry about it," he assured as he leaned against the doorframe, the cigarette bouncing between his lips with each word.
"Enjoy the rest of your weekend, Aaron."
"You too, Y/N."
You headed to your car, settling into the driver's seat quickly, your brain still reeling from the events of the night.
You glanced back towards the Hotchner home and saw Aaron still leaning against the door frame, the faint orange glow of the lit cigarette piercing through the darkness of the sky.
You pulled away from the house and headed back home, watching as the Hotchner home disappeared from your rear view mirror.
Once you got home, you opened the door and pressed your back against it, still shocked with the overwhelming feelings that were still in your stomach, your head. Everywhere.
Esmé turned her head around towards you from the couch. When she saw your shocked and speechless expression, a shit-eating grin grew rapidly on her face. "Spill...the...details...now," she demanded as you sat down next to her on the couch.
As you were retelling the way you and Aaron had a few more moments that night, your phone dinged.
"Don't be a fool! Answer it!" Esmé hollered, smacking her hand gently on your leg.
Your heart fluttered when you saw the name of the person texting you.
Aaron Hotchner
-You left your book here. I found it under the couch when I was straightening up.
-Oh, I totally forgot about it! Sorry! I'll grab it on Monday.
-The Centaur, huh? You really are a bit of a nerd when it comes to mythology aren't you?
-Maybe. But it's also just a good book in general.
-I'll have to give it a read then.
-I'm going to test you on it if you do read it, just so you're aware.
-I'll be counting on it.
-Goodnight, Y/N.
-Goodnight, Aaron.
You sighed loudly, trying to ignore Esmé who was staring at you with wide eyes. You clutched your phone tighter in your hand and turned to look at her.
"I'm in such deep shit," you admitted as you leaned back on the couch, resting your head on the headrest.
——
authors note:
i hope you all enjoyed this chapter! i also hope the lecture part wasn't too boring. i figured it was a good change of pace.
thanks for reading! i appreciate the support <3
see you next chapter!
-jordyn
#aaronhotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#hotch#hotch x you#hotch x y/n#criminal minds fanfiction#fanfic#aaron hotchner fanfiction
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Catching up on posting my #dailydrawing ! Sorry I’m behind; I got my vaccine on Friday, and Saturday was my birthday. Wednesday I started a digital colouring of the #mermay drawing. Didn’t shade it yet. But I did try an alt palette also. Thursday I started colouring it with marker. I had accidentally rolled over the original drawing with my chair, making icky marks all over it. :( So I printed out a copy of the lineart, with the coloured lines instead of black ink. But then I ran out of the colour I was using most on the background; so that’s not finished yet. Friday I didn’t do my #fridaypainting because I had my vaccine that day and got a headache. Over the weekend though, I have been working on a puppet who’s been sitting half finished for ages. #digitaldrawing #traditionaldrawing #markerdrawing #wip #wipwednesday #mermaid #outofink https://www.instagram.com/p/CO9lcMCneLB/?igshid=613qvwekmnj5
#dailydrawing#mermay#fridaypainting#digitaldrawing#traditionaldrawing#markerdrawing#wip#wipwednesday#mermaid#outofink
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reMarkable 2 Review
I had some requests for a review of this device, and I am glad to oblige in this case. I've been closely following digital pen stylus tech for about eight years. I'm just old enough that I still need to handwrite a lot of things to tap into my creativity, but greatly dislike clutter in my life.
The reMarkable is for the person that writes enough by hand to fill several notebooks a year. For someone that wants the tactile and somatic component of writing on paper to associate with their process. The new reMarkable 2 does basically what the reMarkable 1 did; faster, better, and with a much improved piece of hardware.
If you've read my previous review from May 2018, you know I basically raved about the first generation reMarkable. I had a few criticisms of the Gen 1, and a lot of that has been addressed with the Gen 2.
Support & User Experience
I've used a reMarkable tablet continuously for almost three years. I've never had a support issue with one. The software is updated regularly, features added, and user experience improved with each iteration.
There is really no comparisons to be made with that kind of uninterrupted usage. No smartphone, tablet, or computer you ever own will be that reliable. A 3-4 year old Thinkpad, running Linux, is about as close as it gets to that level of, switch-on-and-use, every day, without fail feeling.
The reason is that the reMarkable 2 is leveraging the most reliable hardware, user input methods, stylus technology, and operating system basis available. My fear has always been that my reMarkable wouldn't be as reliable as a regular piece of paper, and a good pen. So far, that fear has never been realized with the reMarkable 1, or 2.
Pen Stylus Input
The majority of what one picks up and uses will be Microsoft Pen Protocol (MPP) stylus tech, with Microsoft Surface Products, or Wacom AES (Active Electrostatic) like that found in a lot of Asus, Dell, Lenovo, and so forth. The older Wacom EMR (Electromagnetic Resonance) is used less frequently, and usually only with their own products, or a version thereof with Samsung Phones and Tablets.
Of the three options, Wacom's EMR is still the best.
That's what you'll find on the reMarkable Tablet, and if you get their Marker Plus (it's the black one) it has the magical EMR eraser tip opposite the drawing point. There is no better pen stylus experience, for general use, sketching, handwriting capture, tilt sensitivity, and so forth.
The Marker Plus is $50 more than the regular Marker. It is worth it.
What if you're like me, and you have a drawer full of pen stylus products? Products that include the legendary Excalibur stylus pen that came with the Thinkpad Tablet 10 Gen 1, and worked with the EMR capable Thinkpad Yoga S1 from 2013? The one with the eraser tip, and sweet felt tip point? Will that stylus work?
Yes. Yes, yes it will.
However, the reMarkable Marker Plus just feels better. It's heft (19g) is perfect, eraser tip rounded to feel like the real thing, and tips that degrade gracefully without marking up the screen. Buy. The. Marker. Plus.
The Hardware
The manufacturer says that the reMarkable 2 gets 3 times the battery life of the 1, is 2 times as responsive (relative to rendering digital ink), and is the world's thinnest tablet at 0.19". Mostly, this is all of this seems to be true. Also, as mentioned before all the new Marker Plus has a built in eraser, all the new accessories snap together with magnets, and it charges with USB-c.
The screen is capacitive touch capable now. No more page turning buttons, and you can swipe down from the top to back out of a document or folder. You can turn pages with the swipe of a finger now. It takes a second to get the gestures down, but they're crisp and reliable once you do.
The tablet runs off of a dual core ARM process (a good thing, in my opinion).
My only quibble is that it is supposed to be able to connect to both 2.4GHz and 5.0GHz WiFi, but so far I've only gotten it to connect to 2.4. It might be something with my specific router, and I'm not sure if my experience is typical.
On the lower left hand side of the tablet there are 5 connection points. This suggests that the tablet may have the ability to connect to other accessories in the future. If reMarkable added a Plain Text Editor, and a keyboard cover to the reMarkable, I would be over the moon.
There is no evidence that they will do this, but a guy can dream. Having what's basically an e Ink Typewriter this thin and light would be the ultimate for this writer.
The Software
It is much the same experience as the reMarkable 1 with a few new additions.
You can convert your handwritten notes into text, cursive or block letters, and share by email. There is support for 33 languages.
With a Google Chrome plug-in, you can read web articles and pages on your reMarkable. If you're already battling with eye strain from looking at glowing screens all day, this is a nice feature.
Reading large PDFs and eBooks is still not crisp and snappy, but it is a vastly improved experience when compared to the reMarkable 1. Large graphically intense documents can be navigated without it taxing your patience. What I store on my reMarkable is vastly different now because of how much improved document handling has become.
I find the small sacrifice in speed rendering pages worth it, compared to the eye strain I get reading on other screens.
More pens, features, page templates, and ease of organizing have been added incrementally over time. With regard to the core functioning (Linux Based Codex OS) of the device, the manufacturer has only ever improved and supported the reMarkable.
Aesthetics
The reMarkable 1 was good for what it could do. It wasn't a bad looking product, but compared to the reMarkable 2, it was a rough prototype. Most tablets do not feel as nice in the hand as the reMarkable 2.
Rubber no-slip nubs on the back, rounded edges, satin finished glass and aluminum, make the tablet itself feel like it's from the future. I bought the Polymer Weave Book Folio, a step up from the regular Folio. A close friend got the same device and marker options as I did, but opted for the Premium Leather Folio.
Definitely, get the Book Folio, and if you can scrabble together the extra money, get the premium leather. That's my only regret is that I didn't spring for the best accessory offered. Is the Polymer Weave good? Absolutely, worth the $99. It is rigid, will protect your investment, and it's very classy looking.
My friend who picked up the Leather Folio is a graphic designer, and has greatly informed my sense of aesthetics over the years. She says the Leather Book Folio is well worth the extra. She is, most certainly, correct.
So, yeah, if you're going to get a reMarkable 2 and want a slightly used Polymer Weave Book Folio (mine), I'll let it go for cheap (so I can atone, and get the leather version, ha ha).
Value
The reMarkable 2 doesn't have a web browser, app store, Merge Dragons, audio player, or other third party applications. It won't replace your iPad, or Android Tablet. It will replace all the paper, notebooks, and pens in your life. This is especially true if you have a small scanner (like a Doxie), and leverage reMarkable's Smartphone app and cloud sync feature.
This tablet is for people that like paper, a lot, but don't want to carry it around or keep track of it. It is for people that fill 8-12 Moleskines a year, and mark up hundreds of pages of documents, for themselves, and others. It is for people that tap into their creativity by writing things down, sketching diagrams, and making lists.
The act of holding a pen or pencil against paper is a cognitive trigger, built into their implicit memory, every day, for years, that allows them to do their things.
$399 will buy a decent Samsung or Apple branded tablet, but neither of those is designed to emulate the experience of writing on paper like the reMarkable 2 tablet is. The reMarkable 2 will run you $399, a Marker Plus $99, and a Polymer Weave Folio $99, bringing it all to almost $600.
Unless you lurk reMarkable's website, and wait for a promotion. They did run a promotion for their pre-order, and will likely do something similar within a year of release. It is my recollection that the manufacturer ran at least two promotions for the Remarkable 1, and the savings were significant.
If you don't need one right this minute, check the website every week or so, their Amazon Store edifice, and whatever other options they have for your region.
Competitors
In the last few years, reMarkable has only acquired more competition in the e ink Tablet market. That competition varies depending on where you live in the world. In the US, no one makes a thing that directly competes. I looked at other products, didn't see anything that made me pull out my reMarkable 1 and make a list of pros and cons for comparison.
That isn't to say there isn't a better thing for your use case, but there wasn't for mine.
Final Thoughts
If I didn't drive this point home earlier, I'm going to make it now. The reMarkable 2 will not replace your laptop, mobile OS (iOS/Android) Tablet Device (meant to replace your laptop), or Smartphone. There isn't even a calculator app on the reMarkable 2.
The Remarkable 2 will replace the pens, pencils, highlighters, notebooks, and print outs cluttering up your daily carry bag, desk, and life. It's a digital paper option, not a personal computing option. When used for that purpose, it is exceptional, and well worth the investment.
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Persephone | John Wick x Reader (Two)
Words: 2306
A/N: A lot of people liked the last one, so I decided to continue and see where it leads. I have no elaborate plan for this series, I just hope that I continue to have the energy and inspiration to finish this.
Warning: Usual JW-verse violence
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It was after your first mission, your first kill, were you officially initiated as an assassin. Your trainer, Sasha, gifted you with what seemed to be modeled after a vorpal blade. Floral and viney patterns covered the metal surface, a deep black colored covered handle with a grip that fits perfectly in your hand. It was your favorite weapon to use. Being that most, if not all, of your targets being larger than you, you preferred stealth than guns blazing. Taking them by surprise, sneaking up behind them and stabbing the blade to their throat, a gloved hand muffling any sound.
You had dropped that blade on the night you tried to escape, right next to Sasha’s body. You wished you had picked it up, but would it have changed the results? The Instructor had seen the doubt in you, that you were growing rebellious. She had seen her fate and wanted to cage you even after death.
Now within the Bowery King’s underground empire, finally away from the hovering sharp eyes of the Instructor’s people, you had to relearn how to function without their strings again. The Bowery King welcomed you, allowing you to rest and find your bearings using their resources whether you agreed to their mission or not.
As it was a backup to their Soup Kitchen base formerly used as a homeless shelter, they could only give you a tiny room with a stiff mattress and a scratchy blanket, but you weren’t complaining. It helped that John’s dog took a liking to you and would keep you company in your room. John didn’t mind it much, though he should really name him.
It took a while to get back into action but John helped a lot in sparring and running simulations with you. The muscle memory was still there and John managed to teach you new techniques as well. Watching him in action was mesmerizing and terrifying. His movements were smooth, calculated, and systematic, so there was no wonder how he’d survived in the business that long.
Still, you shouldn’t be staring at him that long or get distracted when he’s pressing his large body against your smaller frame, his body heat soaking through his clothes and his scent filling your senses. The Instructor would have punished you for not focusing on your training, although you had been infatuated with one or two trainers and fellow trainees as you got older. Such emotions were frowned upon but you were only human, even if John Wick seemed like he wasn’t.
You were sitting against the cold wall of a small training room after a sparring session with John when John’s dog padded over with a smile. You giggled, putting your water bottle down and reached out for the precious pitbull. John sat down with his dog in between the two of you. He pushed a sweat soaked lock of hair away from his face, watching you interact with the pitbull.
The dog lunged forward and licked your face, making you laugh. You turned to John, a genuine smile on his face that made you almost forget that he was The Boogeyman. You turned away, using the pitbull’s head to block your face from his view to hide your heated cheeks.
You cleared your throat, sitting up straighter and played with the pitbull’s floppy ears. “You should name him,” you said.
“His name is Good Dog,” John said with a straight face.
You rolled your eyes. “No, it’s not. You’re lucky he loves you. He’ll listen to anything you say no matter what name you called him.” You held the pitbull’s head between your hands and looked into his puppy eyes. What would be a good name for him, you thought.
John stood up and started towards the door, his loyal dog trailing behind. You frowned, reluctantly grabbing your things and followed after them. Conversations between you and John became more frequent, but they were often brief, so it shouldn’t be a surprise to you that he got up and left. Though, you sensed that he was delaying on naming the dog for a reason.
-
“So have you considered our offer?” The Bowery King asked you after John left to gather intel. “You help us take down the High Table and we can help you start a new life somewhere else.”
You nodded. “I have nothing to lose,” you said, “My family is gone and I have no place to go back to. I’ll help you guys.”
“Good,” The Bowery King said with a nod, “Very good. I assume after being out of it for so long, you’ll need a crash course on what you’ve missed in the Underworld.”
“Yes, please.”
He had you follow him around the building as he caught you up to speed of what happened in the last five years, John’s dog padding along quietly at your feet. Being in hiding from the High Table meant that he couldn’t bring you to his pigeons on the roof anymore and both of you were growing restless staying underground.
He also told you about what had brought John Wick back into the assassin life, from the death of his wife, the death of his puppy and his car being stolen, the Marker with Santino, to Santino’s death within the Continental walls. Rules were rules, and with the bounty that was still on his head placed by Santino, the High Table was also after him and anyone that he was involved with.
“So how do you take down the organization that pulls the strings?” The Bowery King asked you expectantly.
You paused and said, “You cut off the strings or the hand that holds them. Without the strings, they have no control. Without their hand, they can’t use the strings… until they find another way to pull them.”
“Exactly, but with the High Table, it’s more of a web,” he said, “Killing the spider won’t do anything if another spider takes its place. Even with the most complex of webs, there are always the key strands holding it up. When it falls apart, they’ll have to start from scratch.”
“We just need to figure out who or what those key strands are,” you surmised, hands on your hips. “Surely there’s another way to get more information.”
“I’m glad that you’ve mentioned it,” he said with a grin, stopping in front of a wide room with dirty barred windows, a worn but functional wooden desk with circuits, wires, soldering tools, miscellaneous repairing and building tools, and various scrap metal pieces.
“What’s all this?” you asked, inspecting the components.
“John Wick’s pension for storming through buildings with a couple of guns isn’t going to simply cut it when it comes to the High Table, no matter how skilled the man is,” he said, “I’ve heard you were good quite the tinkerer.”
You shook your head. “It’s been a while. I’m still getting my memories back,” you said, picking up a screwdriver and poking your index finger with the tip, “if it’s anything like my training, maybe if I fiddle around with these stuffs and study some machinery, I could get back into it again.”
You put the screwdriver back down and ran a finger across the dusty surface of the desk. You hummed, wiping your finger on your pants, then turned back to the Bowery King. He was watching you closely, a grin on his face as if he could see the outcome to their ambitious operation.
“Better start now, then. We’ll try our best to get you anything you need.”
“How about a clock?”
He laughed at the sudden request. “Any preference, Miss (Y/l/n)?”
“Both analog and digital should be fine.”
He nodded, already getting the attention of one of his men. “We’ll get you those clocks.”
The Bowery King turned on his heels and left to speak to some of his people that were coming back from the usual corners of the street and to send a couple of them for supplies. You looked back at the desk, then down at John’s dog who tilted his head as you let out a long sigh. You’ll need to clean the room up first.
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After your new little office had been cleaned and rearranged with some proper equipment, you quickly got to work, reacquainting yourself with circuitry and machinery. John’s dog lied obediently at your feet facing the door, his ear twitching at every loud noise outside.
You tried to keep your eyes opened as timed pass without you realizing it. You blinked and suddenly the natural sunlight was replaced by the dim street lights outside. A yawn escaped your lips, louder than you intended, causing the dog to jump.
“Sorry, boy,” you muttered, petting his head when he stood up to check on you.
“You should rest,” came a familiar low voice from the doorway.
The dog quickly left to greet the man, his tailing wagging at an impressive speed. John stooped down to greet his loyal companion then turned to you.
“What do you have so far?” John asked, leaning down to look at the messy blueprints sketched out on scratch paper and the circuit board you were working on.
“Just something that I’ve thought of recently,” you said tiredly, “Not sure if it’ll work, but it’s worth a try. I’ll show it to you once I get the first working prototype finished.”
“Can’t wait,” he said, impressed by your sketches, leaning closer to look at your progress.
From the short conversations and how he behaved, you figured he wasn’t much into using technology this way. He was more of a physical person, going out and getting things done by his bare hands. You’re not surprised that he had stormed a building filled with enemies, using only a gun.
You turned your head to look at him, the light of the desk lamp illuminating his features. How the hell can he be that good looking while having cuts and bruises on his face? You quickly turned away before he could catch you staring again, working on covering up the exposed wiring and putting your tools away.
“Had a small errand to deal with?” you asked casually, gesturing to the minor injuries.
“Yeah, I had to meet up with someone,” he said, standing up straight. Your eyes immediately checked the rest of his person for any visible injuries. “Nothing too serious.”
“Right.” Your eyes flickered up and saw him watching you.
He held out his hand, like he had done at the flower shop. “You should get some rest,” he repeated.
You nodded, taking his hand and he led you to your small room without another word. It was only when the two of you reached your door when you realized that you were still holding hands. It felt warm and grounding and pleasant, but you knew you had to let go at some point.
“You should get some rest, too,” you said, delaying the inevitable for a short while. “I, uh, I hope you don’t mind when your dog stays by me at night.”
“It’s fine. He seems to like you,” he said, petting his dog with his other hand that’s missing a finger as he sat quietly at John’s feet.
“I feel like I wake up better when he’s there,” you continued, your hand still in his.
“Don’t you mean sleep better?”
You shook your head. “Nightmares and flashbacks seems unavoidable no matter how pleasant my waking moments had been. At least when I awake, I’m not alone and there’s someone to comfort me.”
John nodded. “I know what you mean,” he muttered, a hint of sadness in his eyes.
That was another thing that set John apart from the other assassins, there was a vulnerability to him that he’d show every now and again. It made you think that he trusted you enough to let those walls down around you.
You opened your mouth, then shut it, suddenly remembering about his wife. Of course. He didn’t have the proper time to grieve yet. He couldn’t even catch a break now with almost every assassin going after his head. The thought made you even more determined to help him.
You squeezed his hand then slowly and reluctantly let it go, stepping towards your door. “Night, John.”
He gave you another nod. “Night, (Y/n).”
-
Two figures pushed Marion onto her knees in front of their leader, a hand yanking her hair so she could face him. Their leader grimaced, shaking his head in disappointment at her failure. She let the asset get away right under her nose. His sister held the asset highly and gave strict orders before she was killed by John Wick.
“How could this have happened, Marion?” The new Instructor asked slowly, daring her to try his patience.
“It was John Wick, sir,” Marion grunted, her neck aching from the angle that she was forced in.
The Instructor nodded at the two figures and they let her go. She gasped, rubbing her neck to sooth the pain. He walked around his desk and leaned down, using a finger to lift her chin up.
“Does she know?” he asked.
Marion nodded. “I think so, or at least, she’s beginning to.”
The Instructor cursed, standing up again and sitting at his chair. “Usually a mistake like this would warrant you termination, but seeing that it was John Wick, I’m feeling gracious enough to give you a second chance,” he said, folding his hands on the desk, “Find them. I hear there’s a pretty price on his head. Come back as soon as you find them. If I hear that you acted alone or lose them again, there will be no hesitation to terminate you, if… they don’t do it themselves. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
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Taglist:
@venusgothic
@weappreciatepower
@anita-e-taylor
@mikaneonox
#John Wick#john wick x reader#john wick imagines#keanu reeves imagines#Persephone p2#I had to delete and repost because it wasn't showing in the tags#and it wasn't tagging anyone#smh tumblr#Keanu Reeves
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Instead of a summary of my art from each month of 2019 I’ve compiled a summary of my art from every year of this decade! Finding some of that old art was incredibly difficult.
And making an exact image description of all this would be too long to write or read so I’m going to do my best to describe all this in a concise and interesting way.
2010: I was a sophomore in high school, so about 15 years old. These two drawings are in pencil and colored pencil, one of some random girl character wearing brightly colored clothes and a rainbow shawl thing (??) walking on clouds it seems. No idea what that was meant to be about. The other is a reference for my old oc, the very first one I ever had, based on myself. She looks human but with unicorn ears and a horn, plus wings and a tail. I hadn’t figured out animal legs yet either so she has perfectly normal human legs that just end in hooves.
2011: still mostly pencil, colored pencil, I don’t remember if I had a laptop yet. I would have been 16 years old at this time. I picked a self portrait here, a coloreddrawing of myself in black concert dress playing the trumpet because I got to do a solo in jazz band and I was very happy about it. The other art I picked for this year is digital but in the old ms paint program (you know before it tried to be fancy with a few more realistic tools and was only pixel art tools) I do believe I was still using the family computer for this, with a mouse. I was really creative with the tools. It’s my unicorn girl oc again, flying through the sky. I included a progress image, showing how I made it. I’m so glad I saved the steps and posted them it’s really cool to see my old art process for that.
2012: 17 years old, and I think I finally had a laptop with a good art program on it by this time but I still did mostly traditional art, lots of colored pencil work. I found this old experimental art I did that year, a colored pencil drawing of a girl sitting on a tree branch, but the background is all digital, a painting of a fantasy night sky with three moons. It actually looks kinda good, the edges of the colored pencil drawing are crisp and smooth and the digital background doesn’t look out of place. I mean the shading is a bit of a mess and I used white clouds on a black night sky which is a bit funny looking but it isn’t that bad. The other image is a colored pencil drawing that was really ambitious for me at the time. I had this cool idea to draw Death with sunset colored wings, all poetic and stuff. Why did I also draw death with blue skin and horns? I don’t know. Why is death sitting on an ambiguous brown cliff overlooking a cemetery? Well I guess I just was having trouble finding any other way to make a nice background and have death above a cemetery. I should redo this one, it’s a really good concept.
2013: my last year of high school, 18 years old. I was doing digital art a lot more often this year and expanding the diversity of my ocs. One of these images is a digital drawing of two of my first characters of color, two male black elves (black as in African-based) smoochin. My first black oc was also my first queer oc, jayvyn. A gay elf. There are a lot of issues with the way I originally conceptualized his story but even when I was thinking he was the only queer person in his town and there was homophobia towards him (I was only just dipping my toes outside the mindset I grew up in) I gave him a whole massive group of friends (a boys' lacrosse team he was on don’t ask me why lacrosse I have no idea I don’t even know much about lacrosse it was a weird choice) and those friends were extremely loyal and supportive of him, even to the point of going on dates with him just to make him happy. and again, he was the only gay character I had so I was writing a bunch of straight dudes taking their one gay friend on dates in a town full of people who were at least vaguely homophobic, I definitely had a lot of growing to do in my writing and my own mindset but I’m kinda proud of myself for doing that? I could have done so much worse with my first queer oc and my first real step into characters of color, but I made the whole story about this tight knit group of boys who were all such close loving friends. (Gee I wonder if this had anything to do with my being ace and not knowing it yet). Oh yeah, the other image is also there, that one is from a photoshop class I took. We had a three-way folding mirrors the bathroom at the time so I put on a hoodie, turned out the bathroom lights, folded the mirrors in and shoved my face into the gap and then took a photo with the flash while holding my mouth open in a silent scream. The result is this really cool series of screaming faces at different angles, which I then ran through a few filters and major contrast adjustment. Could be an edgy generic horror movie cover lol
2014: 19 years old, and I just finished a year of community college and then left on a church mission for 18 months. I probably should have used some of my first college art class drawings for this year's summary but I was using my old deviantart gallery to collect these old images so I forgot I had all that college art too. These two digital images are pretty dynamic in different ways. Dynamic lighting and dark skin, an experiment I was doing to figure out lighting better for my characters of color. That’s Jayvyn again I think, with lightning shooting out of his hand because I sure love making characters with lightning powers. The other is dynamic in the posing and I’m still incredibly happy with it, it’s a drawing of a grey centaur from behind, bucking in panic because a kitten pounced on its foot. Definitely still one of the best centaur drawings I have ever made.
2015: 20 years old, I was actually on my church mission for this entire year so finding art from that year was very very tricky. One is just a small pencil drawing on another oc, Ronan with his cool mechanical leg playing fiddle I guess? I was doing a lot of synesthesia doodles that year so there are lots of swirly lines coming off the fiddle. I was also surprised to find this really neat digital art I made of Ravio from link between worlds, I almost forgot I did find a way to make digital art on my mission (no access to my laptop, limited apps we were allowed to use, super limited access to normal computers except for emails and such, always busy doing important stuff) I discovered the drawing function in the iPad notes app and every time I had time I would use it until I figured out how to make it work for me, using only my fingers, the limited color palette options, and this marker tool that had one size and only multiplied (except when using white) this is definitely one of the best ones, but I don’t know where the rest went. I had a lot. I was stunned to find this because it really looks like I could have done it on a laptop, can’t believe I forgot I did that.
2016: 21 years old. Had to get used to a laptop again. Also I created my current main oc Morianten during my church mission so here I have the very first full body digital art of him! I’ve definitely changed his anatomy a lot since then, made him much more bird like. Kinda funny to look at this old one and see just how differently I draw him now, only three years later. I also have here a digital painting of some other members of morianten's adoptive family, his dad and little brother having a father son race in nice racing wheelchairs. I still struggle with proportions when I draw characters in wheelchairs.
2017: 22 years old, and back in college. I really had a focus on figure drawing that year, I was back in college art classes and I found posespace.com which is just full of professionally shot art model photos. I’ve got one digital figure drawing of my oc Talib, another practice in lighting on dark skin. The other image is a charcoal drawing of my oc Parva, I think I did that one in a 30 minute time frame where I was taking pictures at different points to show my process but I’ve lost the process images.
2018: 23 years old, and really getting into color depth with my digital art. I found a really old pencil drawing of a dynamic dancing scene and redid it as a digital painting with extreme colored lighting dynamics and new characters. I also got super into mermay so I’ve included one of my favorites, a rainbow trout gal and her elf girlfriend having a chat after a nice swim. I’m super proud of the colors and proportions here, and the shading is pretty great too.
And then it’s 2019! This year! I’m 24! For this one I used three images instead of two, all digital. My ocs Talib and Kouto as persephone and hades in a really quick painting I did but the colors and lighting are intense and fun. No outlines painting of Morianten with some pretty intense lightning lighting. That one took ages and I’m still not entirely pleased with the way I drew his face there but I’m proud of it. And I never actually posted this last one, it’s a new oc created exclusively for the DC superheroes au I dabbled in with @askmissbernadette, a young hero called Lion riding a skateboard in a dark city with a long coat on because that’s a fun way to replace the common superhero cape design.
Overall, it was really fun to go through my art for the entire decade and see how much it’s changed over time. And to see how much my characters have changed. Hope 2020 is a good year, hope the 20s in general are good. Here’s to another 10 years of change and progress!
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The Hand That Rocks the Cradles
Barry and Iris had gotten used to having weekends and Monday mornings at the loft to themselves. Lazy hours spent canoodling under the duvet. Meandering over coffee and holding hands on the couch. Kissing in the kitchen that turned into ravenous makeout sessions, that went full circle to making love upstairs under the duvet.
Nora had fallen into a routine of returning to the loft on Tuesday evenings with her duffel bag for the week, after spending Saturday through Monday nights at Joe and Cecile’s lending a hand with Jenna. But that particular Tuesday morning, the were almost caught unawares. Iris was straddling Barry, who was laid back on the pillows, his knees up and feet flat on the bed, making a backrest for Iris.
“You sure you want to spend early Tuesday morning at some new hospital opening instead of … here with me?” Barry pouted, a tactic that normally wouldn’t work so easily on Iris, except this time his thick brown hair was tousled around his face, still flush with an afterglow.
“I am sure I’d rather spend my morning here with you, Barry,” Iris said, leaning over for a quick kiss. And then another. “But we have jobs to get to. The Central City Citizen won’t write itself!”
Iris mustered ambition, willpower, strength -- it took all of it -- to hop off of Barry and turn toward the bathroom. But in one smooth motion he tugged her back a little, his hand finding a favorite spot on her thigh.
“Hey, no fair, speedster,” she chided, trying to slip away. “I need a good hour to get ready! Starting with a shower.”
Barry paused, understanding Iris’ plight. Then he made her bargain. If she let him follow her into the shower, he’d flashtime them so that she wouldn’t be late.
So it was while enveloped in a swirl of steaming streams of water, a peppermint shower gel lather and Barry’s speed aura that they missed the early knock at the door. The jingle of keys in the lock. The call of ‘Mom? Dad?’ as Nora began to clatter around the kitchen, starting a fresh pot of coffee. But they didn’t miss the aroma of a fresh brew wafting up, or Nora’s footfalls on the steps. For someone so petite, she didn’t always walk softly.
Barry’s eyes widened at the signs that their daughter was on the first landing of the stairs leading to their bedroom. Speeding around their illuminated bathroom, Barry managed to stuff Iris into a fluffy terri-cloth bathrobe, pile her springy wet curls up high on her head and twist them into an old T-shirt, and then dive back into his shorts under the duvet.
Iris’ husband had gotten beyond speeding away whenever a member of the S.T.A.R. Labs team, Cecile or even Joe walked in on them kissing. But the truth, which Iris hadn’t confessed to Barry yet, was that she had become a little grateful that he never let Nora catch them mid-coitus.
Barry’s whoosh and flashes of light had settled down before Nora reached the top of the stairs and approached their bedroom door. Then came the soft knock.
“Mom?”
Iris came to the door after a couple of moments, glancing at Barry who had turned his back to the door. She caught a glimpse of rare exasperation on his face.
“Hey, morning Nora,” Iris patted the t-shirt around her freshly co-washed curls. “What’s up? I thought you were going to see your Dad at CCPD this morning?”
“Yeah, that’s still the plan, but …” Nora leaned past Iris to get a glimpse of Barry. “It’s Jenna.”
“What? What’s wrong with Jenna? Is she sick?” Barry turned around and sat up, chorusing with Iris. He flashed in and out of the bathroom, fully dressed in jeans and his favorite blue pullover sweater.
“No, no. It’s not like that,” Nora patted the air with her hands, appeasing her parents. Iris was searching for her phone to call Joe and Cecile while Barry was hopping into his socks. “She’s fine. A little fussy when I was at the park with her yesterday. But … maybe I could fill you in when we have lunch later?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Iris assured, with Barry now standing behind her. “We still have lunch plans. Of course, we don’t have a briefing today at STAR Labs, so I’ll be in midtown --”
“At the hospital,” Nora pointed. “Right. So I’ll see you then. Sorry for the early morning. I just didn’t want you to get so caught up in covering Central City that you might forget.”
“Not a chance,” Iris smiled. “But I do have to finish getting ready, and typical for this family, I’m the last one.”
Nora launched into a rambling apology, which she shortened by scooting, not speeding, down the stairs and waiting for her parents in the kitchen.
Central City Memorial Hospital was always intended to be a small community hospital designed to serve the local neighborhoods of the northeast precincts. But two years ago a group of investors bought out the hospital and began transforming it into “a fully staffed and state-of-the-art equipped city hospital specializing in delivering care to children.”
A shiny new children's hospital. All paid for by visionary investors and generous donors. It all sounded great, but the group’s generosity came on hard terms. On Tuesday morning it took Iris thirty extra minutes to navigate her car around the construction barriers and temporary traffic markers around the new Tenson-Merkel Children's Medical Center. She got to the hospital’s new glass and steel pavilion lobby with just five minutes to spare for the start of the open house program.
Normally, it would have been simple to take Barry up on his offer to run her there. Years of field CSI work and acting as the city’s guardian had taught Barry which alleyways, mass transit stations and side streets were safe terminuses to leave his wife. He would run her to within two blocks of her destination, and let her walk the rest of the way among other pedestrians.
But not this morning. One week before Christmas, when the streets were frenzied with tourists and shoppers, construction necessitated rerouting traffic around the new hospital wing, affecting the east and west sides of the block. Since spring 2017 this had been going on, almost doubling rush hour drive times and choking local streets with irritated drivers attempting shortcuts. So Iris thought twice, three times, in fact, about Barry whooshing her to a 9:30 a.m. press conference, in the teeth of rush hour when sidewalks would be crowded with pedestrians and commuters. She wouldn’t chance it, even if it meant cocooning inside Barry’s aura with his signature lightning crackling around that barrier.
While listening to the formal presentation while scanning the room looking for important people to get quotes from for her story. After the remarks, a guide began walking the group of journalists, donors, hospital staff and other invitees through the newly constructed wing. The space was brightly lit and decorated in a train station motif. A trolley ran along a track that followed a route through the first floor and pop music piped softly through the sound system.
She was busy scribbling a few notes when she felt the air around her shift and heard someone breathe over her head. It must have been someone taller. His scent was familiar, too. Not cologne or aftershave, and not Barry’s favorite soap, but … the light organic scent of a beard care tonic that her father sometimes used. Iris turned in the direction of the aroma and found herself facing Scott Evans, editor-in-chief of the Central City Picture News.
“Hey, stranger!” Scott bent toward Iris and extended a hand. Iris took it, and he immediately closed his long, warm fingers around hers, bobbing their joined hands together. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
Iris repressed a sigh and simply flashed a bright smile.
“I mean, why wouldn’t I be here?” not wanting to talk over the tour guide or betray her mixed emotions about Scott Evans. “Even ‘citizen journalists’ as you always phrase it, have audiences who want to understand what’s going on in their city.”
Scott adjusted his blazer around his shoulders with a shrug.
“You know, even much larger Web sites run by digital media companies -- Vice, Mic.com -- even their business are going through rough patches,” he said. “Someone with your talents should just accept that offer at a larger, reputable and profitable paper where she can build on the potential for a career legacy. Instead of chasing followers, likes and shares.”
Scott’s appraisal of Iris’ work at Central City Citizen disrupted her note-taking and almost made her bump into a hospital staffer who had walked by.
“Likes and shares are certainly not the only impact our stories have --”
“Oh, you’re an our, now?” Scott’s voice arched, and he leaned back slightly, blinking hard. “Oh yeah. I forgot about the ‘Smart Brown Girls’ podcasts. You and Julie Greer.”
Iris could have pointed out that Central City Citizens’ readership was loyal, growing and already digital -- an area that the Picture News was struggling to master effectively. But she didn’t have the energy for another near-argument with Scott Evans.
“Scott, journalists are much more than just writers these days,” she said, standing on her toes slightly to ensure that she could still see the tour guide. “They are -- they have to be -- comprehensive storytellers who can deliver in whatever medium their audience demands. That’s me. I move with the flow and I’ll guarantee you this -” she pointed the edge of her notebook at his chest “I won’t ever have to worry about where my next byline is coming from or hang all my value on one gig. I’ll always have a platform.”
And then she turned and marched away from Scott so hard and fast that a lock of her silky Black hair slapped his face, forcing him to lean back and blink away his disbelief.
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ENMY Chapter 89 - Fourth Crusade (Part One)
Chapter Synopsis:
The Kingdom of Vacuo is about to enter its most daunting challenge since its conception. Salem is launching the Fourth Crusade. A war to end some of Remnant’s greatest warriors, including Team ENMY. Assistance from Atlas is on its way, but will the Fleet arrive in time to make a difference?
Only one thing is certain. Whatever happens in Vacuo will echo the events to come for the rest of Remnant.
Series Synopsis:
Team RWBY is disbanded, and Yang must find herself new allies.
For her, that might very well be yesterday’s enemies.
Joining up with the likes of Emerald, Mercury, and Neo, the four will comprise Team Enemy(ENMY).
Links to read the series: Ao3 or FF.net
Or hit the jump below
.
Fourth Crusade (Part One)
.
Well, I looked my demons in the eyes, laid bare my chest,
Said, “Do your best. Destroy me. You see, I’ve been to hell and back so many times, I must admit,
You kind of bore me.”
.
.
“Have you finished relaying the situation?” Temujin asked.
“Ran your people the basic play by play,” Emerald answered. “Cuckoos gone, some of their loved ones gone, hordes of Grimm, plus, a giant freakin’ butterfly making a beeline for us.”
“Moth.”
“What?”
“It’s a moth.”
“Right. Behemoth. I get it.”
“Have you modified their emotions?”
“Tweaked them just a touch. They were as angry as you wanted them to be and ready to war without it.”
“That will do. Wake them. And connect my thoughts to theirs.”
“From sweet dreams to full-blown nightmare. This is gonna be a scene.”
As the mental connection secured, Temujin stepped onto the balcony of the Hanging Gardens. She sat on her small stool, and took her familiar horse-fiddle in her hands. As she touched the bow to the strings, her throat opened and she drew strength from her diaphragm.
Another tragedy to carve in these old bones one last time.
One last burden.
One last sin.
Temujin bore her soul bare to the untethered sun and the desert’s hot air.
Answer me, one last time.
My Kingdom of Blades.
A low, soulful song reverberated into the skies above Vacuo. Its volume began low, but slowly and surely, its melody became a crescendo that shook the heavens. The citizens roused to its sound. The voice of their Great Khan, the voice of their Kingdom. It called them to arms.
I failed you.
I deceived you.
I betrayed the Code I set for you all.
But will you answer me once more?
If this is our end, will we stand together?
How will we march into the darkness?
With fear?
Or will it be with Wrath in our hearts?
A single command coursed through the minds of her people. A pure emotion of most unmitigated rage. A sweltering draught that drowned away their sorrows.
All across the city, the citizens of Vacuo stirred. They stood tall with their chests out. Their weapons drawn and raised high.
“An Eye for an Eye.”
.
X X X X X
.
Despite the conference room in Atlas HQ being something the size of a small theater, all its occupants were struck silent. None could watch the floating projection, and not be horrified by what was displayed.
Finally, a lone, timid voice spoke what they were all thinking.
“They’re doomed.”
The digital map zoomed out to show the Vacuo capital and its surrounding lands. Rounding to hit the city from the North and South were hosts of Grimm almost twice the city’s size A flood of red markers filled the edges of the map, but the more imminent threat was displayed by the monstrous Behemoth flying directly from the West.
Murmurs began flooding the room. Mutterings of disbelief and fear rose with a rising tide.
“How can that many Grimm be controlled?”
“If something like that attacked us, would the Aegis and Javelin System be enough?”
“We should order our Fleet back. Strengthen our defenses here.”
“It’s all over for them.”
A hand slammed loudly onto the table. Cinder’s furious gaze silenced the room and brought order to the staff.
“How far is the reinforcement Fleet?” she asked.
None made a move.
“How far are they?!”
They all jumped, and one officer rapidly tapped her tablet.
“Still a day’s flight, ma’am! Twenty hours estimated!”
“Is there any way to shorten the travel time for the remaining distance?”
“They could possibly cut down a few hours by traveling at maximum thrust. However, that would only be possible for a small portion of the Fleet.”
“…”
“It would be advised not to separate—”
“I know that!” Cinder shouted in exasperation.
“……Ma’am, I think we should consider withdrawing the reinforcements.”
The Black Queen offered no response to the suggestion. She remained quiet, studying the scales and balances in her head. There was a tough call to make in this. The future of Atlas, and more importantly Remnant’s, would hinge on the actions she took now.
We didn’t expect Salem’s resources to be so extensive.
Can Vacuo hold until the Fleet arrives?
Even with the little aces up our sleeves, the chances of victory are too low to entertain.
Initiating the fight with Salem backfired.
No, it would have been worse to wait. At least, the Cuckoos have been removed from the board.
Is the situation still salvageable?
…
The smart move would be to recall our forces.
By the time they arrive, Vacuo will likely be overrun to a point they cannot recover.
…
…
Team ENMY must be evacuated.
Cinder looked up to the officer-in-waiting.
“Sortie the light-traveling transport marked Swordfish ahead to retrieve—”
“Belay that order.”
Cinder turned in surprise to Weiss’ sudden interruption. Her surprise quickly transitioned to smoldering fury.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“We aren’t sure Vacuo is lost yet,” Weiss answered.
“With all due respect, my fellow Queen, Vacuo can’t possibly hold out against that,” Cinder motioned to the projection. “Not until reinforcements arrive, and even then, the chances of victory are too small to consider.”
“We need to contact Team ENMY.”
“We will give them the order to evacuate—and they will follow it.”
“Cinder…”
“…What?”
The Black Queen squinted, as the White leaned closer to speak loud enough so only they could hear.
“You know, better than I, the things Team ENMY is capable of.”
“I do,” Cinder nodded. “They can perform the impossible given the right circumstances. With adequate preparation and strong mental grit, they can and will perform outside expectation. But what Salem has brought to the board is completely out of their depth.”
“I want to hear what they have to report first.”
“And we shall, but do not hold out hope.”
“At this point, hope might be all we have.”
Cinder went quiet for a moment.
“I detest the idea of abandoning our allies more than you would believe, and this miscalculation frustrates me to no end—but we cannot afford to be stubborn at this juncture. I thought you were smarter than this.”
“I doubt we can outsmart the Witch, if that’s what we’ve been trying to do.”
“…”
“She’s had decades to prepare and plan and manipulate the variables, Cinder. We can’t win that way.”
Weiss’ words rung deep with the Black Queen. It was a thought she fought hard to abate, but seeing the might Salem brought live on the projection, Cinder could only face the truth. If this was a chess game, it wasn’t fair to begin with. The Witch had too many pieces from the start and moved several times before her first turn came.
It was enough to dishearten anyone.
But that was not what Cinder saw when she met her coregent’s eyes.
“…What are you thinking?” she couldn’t help but utter, almost disbelievingly.
“I’m not sure myself,” Weiss shook her head. “I think we have a choice, Cinder. It’s the choice you and I have been dreading without really knowing what it was.”
“…”
“I can feel it. We have to make a stand here. We have to.”
“…Is that your head speaking, or your heart, I wonder?”
“Both.”
“Very well, Weiss. We will delay ordering the retreat.”
Weiss blinked in surprise.
“Really?”
“As I said before, your counsels are always welcome. No matter how naïve or ludicrous they may be.”
“Hmph!”
Seeing her fellow Queen pout brought a slight smile, as well as lighten Cinder’s mood. She turned to the adjutant and gave the following order,
“Mobilize all the light transports. Few reinforcements sooner are better than none too late. Have the rest of the Fleet maintain course. Inform Trafalgar and Ironwood of the situation and our decision.”
“Ma’am, yes ma’am,” the officer saluted, and tapped at her tablet.
“And open a direct channel with Team ENMY in real time. Priority one.”
“Ma’am, it will take some time to construct a secure line.”
“It doesn’t need to be encrypted. I don’t care if Temujin eavesdrops on our conversation.”
“Yes, ma’am. Right away.”
Cinder breathed a quiet sigh and glanced at Weiss beside her.
“This is quite the gambit, my Queen.”
“You could have overruled me easily. You are, as you’re so fond of reminding me, director of all affairs military.”
“Indeed. But if I had to say…”
“I also think, a stand must be made.”
.
X X X X X
.
The throne room of the Hanging Gardens was instantly converted into a war room. Various communication equipment had been rigged around the chamber to coordinate their armies.
Ilia was busy giving sortie orders to the city wall’s hangars and garages to mobilize airships and other modes of transport. Nai had left earlier to join the battalion heading North. Minerva was dividing her students between those transported to the safety bunkers and those who would join the battle in the South.
Meanwhile, Temujin, the Rakis siblings, and Team ENMY had their attentions concentrated on the bigger picture.
“You’re sending an awful lot of your people to cover the armies at the flanks,” Emerald commented.
“Yes,” Temujin answered simply.
“But Behemoth was going to hit the city first. You want to take the fight to the other fronts, outside the walls.”
“Yes.”
“We were supposed to be locking down siege defense after we got rid of the Cuckoos.”
“We were.”
A tense silence filled the atmosphere.
“……You’re abandoning the city?” she whispered low.
Temujin didn’t give Emerald an answer. She rechecked how Vacuo’s military was being divvied up. It appeared none of the staff officers noticed how none of their forces were being devoted to Behemoth. The only way that was possible was if…
Emerald felt the stares of the Rakis siblings on her. Mouse and Knives were the most senior commanders just below Temujin. Minerva and Nai weren’t around, hands full with their own tasks.
“You knew you would have to abandon the city?” Emerald asked, remembering the Precognition Semblance the siblings had. “This was a future you guys saw?”
Mouse and Knives nodded slightly.
“So, what?! We went through with Operation Gun Dog for nothing?”
“It served its purpose. We also believed it might cause a deviation in the future they saw,” Temujin explained. “But it seems our gamble did not pay off on that venture.”
“Great! Thanks for clueing us in this late in the game. We knew Salem’s army wasn’t fucking around, but the wonder siblings didn’t see that big ass, Mothra-fucker coming?”
“The Witch did well to hide it. If you studied the material on our Grimm, you know Behemoth was outside expectation.”
“Yeah, it’s only in its adult form seven days out of the whole year. It also works on a strict timeclock, so you spawn-kill it as soon as it hatches out of its cocoon, far away from the any settlement.”
“There were measures to exterminate it months from now. In the worst case, we would have waited until it exhausted its lifespan.”
“Looks like there’s a new worst case now.”
“It is near impossible to defeat in fair, open ground. If the brunt of our forces were used to counter it, there would be nothing left when Salem’s main army arrived.”
“FUCK!”
Emerald continued to trade glares from Temujin to the large moth taking up the monitors. Poisonous powders spread beneath the Grimm’s shadow. Its toxins carried into the gusts of its wings. Once in a while, a few scales would drop from its body, unrolling into giant, armored caterpillars.
In addition to its other absurd traits, the Grimm possessed one other ability.
“You guys see any new visions of the future?” Emerald asked.
“…Yes,” Mouse squeaked out an answer.
“Let me guess. If you kept all your people behind the walls, and concentrated your attacks on Behemoth, it would’ve suicide bombed the city.”
Upon the Grimm’s death, it shed all of its scales, which caused an unfathomable amount of carnage in the surrounding environment. It was another reason the Vacuo military tried to lessen the damage by disposing it elsewhere.
“Salem won’t waste time. She’ll have it belly flop the city anyway,” Emerald bit her thumbnail. “That’s what I’d do. It’s too slow to wipe a good percent of a moving army, but it can level a lot of your standing fortifications. Salem’s trying to weaken the siege defense for the later game.”
“We have come to similar conclusions.”
“Any chance we can bring it down before it gets inside the walls?” Emerald continued to press.
“My sister and I foresaw something else, which our scouts have since then confirm.”
Mouse touched a nearby monitor and enhanced the image on the screen. Zoomed onto the back of Behemoth was a small army of Grimm. The groups seemed to be crowding something at their center like a shield wall. When the image was further enhanced, Team ENMY saw what was there.
A few of the Grimm Clan Leaders were identified. Camlann, Azkaban, and Combine were commanding their brethren from afar, while riding Behemoth’s back. The combination of area effects between Azkaban and Combine alone were enough to deter any real resistance. Their abilities were much more potent than the average Cuckoo or Daemontor, and their effect radiuses even wider so.
“…Crap. Then, what’s the plan?” Yang spoke up. “You guys do have a plan, right?”
Temujin looked to her goddaughter strangely, and sighed.
“A course of action is in place. Behemoth will be allowed to detonate within the city. After its death, our armies will retreat back behind whatever is left of the fortifications and initiate siege defense as planned.”
Yang threw Temujin an accusatory look.
“But the other citizens…!”
“Some will survive.”
“More will die!!!”
“Our warriors will fight all the harder.”
“You can’t be serious!”
Just then, Yang felt the oxygen empty from her lungs. She coughed violently from Temujin’s sudden activation of her territorial Semblance.
“I am deadly serious, my foolish goddaughter. It is the only way my people will survive.”
“By offering some of them on a silver platter…!” Yang forced her voice through. “I didn’t know you had such an ego…! I didn’t know you were so cold…!”
“You have no idea.”
“You’d sacrifice anything to win! What makes you so different from Salem?!”
“…Not much I suppose.”
“Bullshit!!!” Yang turned, and stormed from the throne room. Her team followed after.
Once ENMY was gone, Temujin bade a forlorn gaze to Knives and Mouse. Both were positively fuming and biting the edges of their lips to keep silent.
Good job holding back, you two.
We can’t have them staying behind, if they knew the truth.
Yang is right, though.
I would sacrifice anything to win…
Even myself.
.
X X X X X
.
As Yang stomped angrily out into the hall, her team caught up to her—right as she punched a hole through the nearby wall.
“Yang,” Emerald said with a hint of disappointment.
“I know what you’re going to say, Em.”
“Yeah, well. I’m going to say it anyway. Temujin’s making the right call.”
“I don’t know about ‘right’.”
“Either some die, or they all die together. Minus one is better than minus a hundred. The math isn’t hard to figure.”
“Or, we can make it’s minus zero.”
Yang stared at Emerald meaningfully, while the team leader narrowed her brow in return.
“Yang…”
“We can bring down Behemoth, Em.”
“Not after the gas we just spent on Operation Gun Dog. Not in time, anyway.”
“We can do it.”
Emerald held her head like she was massaging a migraine.
“Do I have to remind you how this is supposed to work? We frontload our hand on Operation Gun Dog. THEN, we rest a tic to recover what we spent. And only after, do we actually get in on the real fight with Salem’s army.”
“Except there’s no time to rest, because Behemoth is going to cannonball the city! We’re the only ones with enough firepower and mobility to stop it!”
“Alright. So tell me, what happens when we burn ourselves down to the felt taking down Behemoth—which is a little more than an impossible ask, by the way? You think Salem’s gonna pass up the chance to ghost us while we’re catching breaths in-between suicide missions? We know a certain somebody won’t.”
“We have to, Em! Innocent people will die!”
“You and I both know the safety bunkers might hold up,” Emerald crossed her arms with a suspecting stare.
“We don’t know that,” Yang argued back.
“Some of them will.”
“A lot of them won’t!”
“Yang.”
“What?!”
“I should be asking you that.” Emerald stepped close to Yang’s face. “What’s with you? Since when were you so touchy about people dying?”
“Since always!”
“No, not when we had to fight on Dracul. Not when we were making enemies in Vale. And definitely, not when we were taking over Atlas. I mean, you did, but not like this. So, what gives?”
Yang gave Emerald a long, pleading look, before answering.
“…Because this was our chance to do some good.”
“…”
“Hehe…! Stupid me, right?” she chuckled sadly. “After all the shady things we’ve done, I just wanted to do some good—some actual, honest good. Save lives instead of being the reason people lost them. Guess I should’ve known better.”
“Yang.”
“I know, Em.”
“It’s not how our team does things.”
“Yeah. We’re the enemy. We attack. Protecting and saving people isn’t our rep.”
“I’m…sorry.”
“No. Nothing to be sorry about.” Yang gave a vague shake of her head. “I’ll get my game straight in a second. Just let me know when we’re moving out of the city. Till then, I’ll take a rest. Gotta refill the reserves, right?”
As the girl dragged her feet off with drooping shoulders, Neo braced her waist with a comforting hand. Together, they went to look for a private room. Emerald and Mercury were left alone in the hallway.
“…Don’t say anything,” Emerald said, after a time.
“What?” Mercury put his hands up innocently. “I wasn’t going to say anything.”
“Stop. You go weak whenever Yang pulls that ‘puppy dog that just got kicked’ look.”
“More like, ‘you just kicked that puppy dog’s dreams’ look, but same difference.”
“UGH!”
“What are we gonna do?”
“What do you mean?! I just said what we were going to do!”
“Yeah…but what are we really going to do?”
Emerald glared fiercely at Mercury’s passively waiting demeanor. The staring contest lasted for a couple of unblinking seconds.
“AAARRRGGHHH!!! DAMMIT! FUCK!!!” the team leader vented her curses.
“You’re getting softer, boss.”
“And who’s fault is that?! Stupid, moral, nobility craphat. Annoying, blonde, bullshit, punchy…”
As Emerald continued to mutter endless profanities under her breath, her scroll gave a soft ring.
“Welp, saw this coming.” She coughed to clear her throat, before answering. As soon as the line went live, Emerald tried to make her tone as professional as possible. “Let me guess, we’re being ordered to ditch Vacuo?”
“…The matter isn’t finalized,” Cinder’s voice came from the other end. “There is no shame for you and your team to retreat.”
“Yeah, I’ll say. Shit’s not about to just hit the fan here, it’s going to—am I on speaker?”
“Yes.”
“Whole room?”
“Fortunately, only Weiss and myself.”
“Great.”
“Your report.”
“It’s bad, Cinder. Real bad. I know you probably have an idea, but it’s nowhere close to what we’re seeing here.”
“So, Vacuo is lost?”
Emerald thought for a moment.
“……These people are strong,” she gave an uneasy laugh. “I saw Salem’s army with my own eyes—it’s like signs of the freakin’ apocalypse! But these people, they want to fight. They will die fighting.”
“You cannot let their behavior influence your own.”
“I know, I’m trying to say something different. Cinder, Vacuo is worth saving. We shouldn’t abandon them. We need them on our side.”
“They are that valuable an asset?”
“They are. This alliance is the most important investment Atlas needs to make.”
“Sounds like a sales pitch. Tell me what truly whispers in your heart.”
“…” Emerald braced a hand to her chest. “Team ENMY is going to take down Behemoth.”
“So soon after your previous mission?”
“I know we were supposed to take a power nap before the next big fight, but you see that thing.”
“You intend to accomplish this by yourselves?”
“Temujin’s diverting all her forces to the North and South.”
“She plans to forfeit the city. A calculated choice.”
“We’ll manage.”
“This is reckless,” Cinder ended with a short pause. “What would you do if I ordered you from doing so?”
“……I’ll always listen to you, Cinder. If you tell me to take my team, and get the hell out of Vacuo, I’ll do it. I’ll drag Yang back, even if she hates me. You say the word, I’ll listen. Always.”
“…”
“But I’m asking you to trust me. Let me make this call. My team can swing this.”
For a moment, Emerald swore she heard Cinder’s breath stifle with emotion. A second later, the other spoke again.
“You are ordered to return to me,” the Black Queen commanded almost angrily. “Alive and in one piece—but at a time of your choosing.”
“I promise!” Emerald answered quickly. “I promise I’ll come back!”
“Hmph. You are aware any infidelity towards your Queen’s orders incurs the highest of penalties.”
“Don’t I know it.”
“So, how do you plan to perish the creature?”
“…”
“Emerald?”
“I have an idea.”
“So, speak it.”
“You guys might not like it.”
“……Speak it.”
Emerald took a searing deep breath between her teeth.
“We might have to use a couple of the aces we’ve been banking.”
.
X X X X X
.
A few miles south of the capital, Vacuo’s military made first contact with the Grimm army. The battalion was tasked with eliminating the enemy’s first wave and slowing their advance towards the city. A part of them knew it would be no easy task.
But they did not know how difficult it would be until they saw the head of the horde.
“My, aren’t these some familiar faces?” the cold voice lingered.
While countless Grimm smashed into the lines of Vacuo’s warriors, a smaller battle was waged in the midst of chaos.
“Tai!” Glynda called.
“I know!”
The head of a Grimm King Taijitu struck at Glynda and Minerva, trying to snap the pair of sorcerers in its jaws. But Taiyang was able to position himself in time. His hands gripped each fang firmly, and slid his feet to a stop. Tattoos covered every inch of his arm, signaling the activation of his Semblance.
While their vanguard held down the threat, Glynda and Minerva aimed a set of spells at the source. A storm of raining ice and flames fell before them. Their target, pelted with blizzardous hellfire.
“Hm. That was much less than I expected,” the chilling voice came again.
Undaunted by the Magic spells, an enormous tortoise shell remained when the sand clouds dissipated. It was white, bony, and jagged. And as the Grimm barrier cracked open, it revealed a dark silhouette underneath. Their arm still connected to the King Taijitu head grappling with Taiyang.
“It seems my Crusade will be easier than I anticipated,” Salem taunted. “I knew you would be lost without Ozpin—but I didn’t quite know how lost.”
She gave her arm a tug, and from atop the Taijitu’s skull, a scorpion’s tail sprouted. The stinger snapped towards Taiyang’s head, but the man was able to dodge the blow at the last second. The tip caught his collar, but even then, it only left a small mark on his reinforced skin.
“That all you got?!” Taiyang shouted.
“Typical,” Salem scoffed.
The Witch materialized a long, ornamental hairpin from her robes. Its end was decorated with an elegantly jewel-crafted butterfly. Then, without any hesitation, stabbed the point of the needle into her collar bone, matching the placement with the scratch inflicted on Taiyang.
At the same time, blood spewed both their bodies. The man let out a scream of panicked anguish before steeling himself enough to leap back to safety. His hand clutched the base of his neck, where blood dribbled between his fingers.
The Witch on the other hand, showed only indifference to the curse-inflicted wound. She continued to observe her three opponents without paying mind to the black liquid spraying out. Only after a few seconds passed, did Salem spin a web from her fingertip to bandage the gash.
Taiyang badgered himself for his carelessness and forced his wound close with his Semblance. Though it stopped the bleeding, the fix was only skin deep. Regardless, he took a fighting stance, showing he was ready to go, but a gentle hand rested his shoulder.
“Assist the others, Tai,” Glynda spoke with consolation in her voice. “Leave this to me and Minerva.”
“This battle will no longer take place within the confines of this realm,” the Headmaster of Shade added.
Taiyang wanted to argue back, but prior experience held his tongue.
“Yes, run along now, little lionheart,” Salem condescended with a brushing gesture.
“Only certain performers are allowed to share this stage.”
.
X X X X X
.
“This is the best we could do, huh?” Yang asked.
“Yep. Everything’s zeroed on this spot,” Emerald replied.
“Couldn’t make it any farther out?”
“Considering all the last-minute strings we had to pull to make this puppet show dance, I’m surprised we made this much space at all. Let’s just be happy and take what we can get, shall we?”
On the farthest edge of Vacuo’s western wall, Yang and Emerald plopped down to take a seat. Their feet dangled off the side. Neo and Mercury joined them shortly. The four stared passively at Behemoth encroaching their position. They could see armies warring at the corner of their peripheries to the left and right.
Although they were aware of the violent events transpiring, and those to come, the team basked in the oddly-serendipitous moment of peace. For them, nothing would happen for the next few minutes. All manner of dangers were far or on their way. All they could do was wait. And likely, due to repeated instances of high intensity, even a few minutes of waiting was enough to bring a calmness to their nerves.
Neo pulled out an apple, and sliced off a few pieces with her sword. One by one, she passed the slips of fruit to her teammates. And the four munched on the small snack, while watching Behemoth beat its wings towards them. Nothing left, but to bide their time until the omen of destruction’s arrival.
“So, everyone around’s been cleared out?” Yang started.
“Yup. Zero possible casualties, except for maybe us. Just the way you like it,” Emerald replied.
“See? Doesn’t it feel nice to do the right thing?”
“Fuck the right thing. That’s not why I did this.”
“Oh? Then, why did you do it? I thought your self-proclaimed moral compass was broken.”
Emerald glared at her silently.
It is broken.
I mostly did this cause of you…
“Still, thanks for doing it.” Yang beamed with a warm smile. “I mean it, Em.”
Yang was about to pop another apple slice in her mouth, when Emerald snatched it midair. Taking it as some abstract price exacted, the girl didn’t make a fuss. Only taking replacement from Neo, who was performing her own magic trick of producing endless fruit out of thin air.
“Hey, Em?”
“Yeah, Yang?”
“Did Temujin seem…weird to you? You know, back there?”
“Temujin’s always weird.”
“Yeah, but… evasive.”
“Temujin’s always evasive.”
“You know what I mean,” Yang groaned. “Back when she told us she was abandoning the city, and even when we told her our plan, she just okayed it like it was nothing.”
“You prefer she argue with us? We practically handed her a ‘we’ll save your city for free’ card. Maybe, she just didn’t want to look a gift horse in the anus.”
“Uh, it’s teeth.”
“What is?”
“The saying. It’s ‘gift horse in the teeth’.”
“Oh. Mercury lied to me.”
“No, it’s definitely anus,” Mercury mumbled, stuffing more apples into his mouth. “That’s how you tell the horse’s age.”
“Okay! But you know what I’m saying,” Yang brought the topic back. “What futures did Mouse and Knives see? And what else aren’t they telling us? Temujin doesn’t seem the type, but she looks kind of like she’s given up. What else are they hiding?”
“Who knows,” Emerald shrugged.
“I know you’ve thought about it.”
“I got a few ideas, but nothing concrete.”
“This isn’t the time for our sides to keep secrets.” Yang let out an exasperated groan before popping another slice into her mouth. “Cinder and Weiss are ready to pull us out. Temujin has to know that. She needs to be open with us.”
“It’s not like we tipped all of our hand to her either. Still gotta play a few things close to the chest. Distrust goes both ways.”
“I thought we were in an alliance.”
“I think this is about as much two Kingdoms can trust each other without actually merging. And that’s without all the bad blood between Vacuo and Atlas.”
“We need to be on the same page, Em. Salem found a crack in our team, and pried it apart. What do you think she’ll do to two Kingdoms?”
Emerald paused, and then bit into the next crunchy morsel Neo handed her.
“True. If Vacuo somehow gets out of this intact, I wouldn’t put it past Salem to turn one of the Kingdoms against the other. You have an idea bouncing around that noggin? Or do you just like adding new problems to my ‘shit I gotta figure out’ list?”
“We need to have a sit down with Temujin. At the least, we need to hear everything the siblings predicted so far.”
“Yeah, she’s kept us in the deep dark about their visions. Not just us, but her own people, too.”
“And if we’re learning anything, whatever Temujin hides is worth finding out.”
“Emerald,” a voice came over the Enchantress’ mental link. “Are we ready to begin?”
“Yeah. Just about,” she responded, and got up.
At that moment, a number of transmissions reached Team ENMY’s communications.
“Alrighty. Time to set the world record for taking down a bunch of Nightmare Class Grimm in a row, maybe!” Emerald announced.
“All boss speedrun!” Mercury fake cheered.
Yang turned to Neo with a loving stare.
“Got my back?” she winked.
Neo smiled widely.
Yup.
.
X X X X X
.
(An hour ago)
“Are we sure this is wise?” General Ironwood couldn’t help voicing his doubts. “We were supposed to wait until we were closer to attempt this.”
“Drastic measures, General,” Trafalgar answered, next to him on the bridge. “Sometimes, all we can do is take a leap of faith.”
“There are countless variables which can skew the accuracy.”
“That’s why it’s called a leap and not a step, or a modest crawl.”
Ironwood breathed a sigh, before speaking into the console.
“Alright, Penny. Permission to arm.”
“Armed and READY, Mr. Ironwood!” the girl answered with a chipper.
“Execute.”
.
X X X X X
.
“……. What the hell are you kids thinking?” Qrow muttered his disbelief.
“I’m thinking we need your help to bring down Behemoth. Is the wax building up in your ears, grandpa?” Emerald replied.
“Don’t call me grandpa!”
“The other guy is definitely a grandpa. As a matter of fact, he’s the grandest of grandpas. So, you gonna help us or not?”
“I thought the plan was to surprise Salem with an ambush.”
“Plans change. Roll with it.”
Qrow breathed one of the most soul-draining sighs in his life, before centering himself to continue.
“Okay. So, let me make sure I got this right. You need me to use Titan’s power to help you kill Behemoth.”
“Yup!”
“But before that, you need me to stick my neck out.”
“You got it.”
“I immediately don’t like this…”
.
X X X X X
.
“I think I’m going to like this,” Raven gave a soft chuckle.
“I thought you would,” Emerald shared in the mental laugh. “Shouldn’t be a violation against whatever your contract is with Salem, right?”
“Only you brats could come up with something this sloppy and effective.”
“Compliment received.”
.
X X X X X
.
Out in the ocean separating Atlas from Vacuo, the acting reinforcements of the Atlesian Fleet came to a full stop. While the airships hovered as still as possible, their artillery battery raised to a high angle. Tapped into each vessel’s control system and calculating a complex aiming algorithm was a certain android.
“Coordinates fixed. Real-time calculations complete. Trajectory courses confirmed!” Penny cheered.
“FIRNG ALL ORDNANCE!”
.
X X X X X
.
(Back to the Present)
Team ENMY turned their gazes eastward, where a flock of glistening projectiles soared towards their position.
“Whoa, that’s gonna be close,” Yang commented.
“Yeah, well. It’s supposed to be,” Emerald sneered, as she elbowed Mercury’s side. “You’re up, top gun. Make sure it’s not us that gets our ass fricasseed.”
“On it, boss.”
Mercury activated his Semblance and felt the surrounding atmosphere come under his control. His senses extended to the oncoming shells. Their trajectories mapped out in his mind’s eye.
Damn. Not a bad shot from fifteen-thousand plus kilometers away.
Just need to sharp it just a little…
Mercury adjusted the turbulence and atmospheric pressure to suit his needs. He played out the simulation in his head, and matched it to the present. Their “back-up” fire would land exactly where they wanted it to on the dime.
“Merc,” Emerald elbowed him a few more times. “Hate to interrupt your beautiful mind moment, but the big bad bug is coming up faster. Maybe, short the fuse on lighting this candle?”
“Sure, just gotta speed up the momentum on more than a thousand combustible Dust shells. No big deal.” The sarcasm exaggerated in his voice.
“I had to hallucinate a whole Kingdom. Don’t get cute with me about making the big plays.”
The crying flock of whistling missiles screamed across the sky ever closer. At the same time, the great shadows and winds kicked up by Behemoth brushed the team’s backs.
Despite being caught between an arsenal of hellfire and the largest Grimm ever recorded, ENMY showed no signs of panic. Once Mercury finished his modifications, he expelled a small sigh of relief.
“Nice,” Emerald smirked, while putting on the sunglasses she took from Coco so long ago. Yang, Neo, and Mercury were producing their own pairs, when she also took out her scroll. She then, held it out and struck a smug pose.
“Are you actually taking a selfie right now?” Yang asked in slack-jawed awe.
“I wanna send a picture to Cinder. It’ll also make a good memory.”
Without wait or permission, the rest of the team crammed into the camera shot. They made random faces, while throwing up a series of hand gestures and middle fingers.
Meanwhile, high-pitch whistling from the Fleet’s artillery was at the peak of its cries when they were suddenly muffled. Bellowing explosions cut the sound off with its own. Raining hellfire engulfed Behemoth’s back in clouds of inferno. It was a carpet bombing of a creature that could have been a small island onto itself.
“Sweet fireworks,” Yang grinned. “Did you get the shot?”
“Got it!” Emerald confirmed.
“I always wanted to help destroy something beautiful,” Mercury shed a single tear.
Neo threw her hands up, cheering with mute excitement.
Fire! Fire! Burn!
“Okay, okay,” Emerald called their attention. “I know that just made the inner pyros inside us cream, but we still got work to do.” She tapped her in-ear communicator. “You there, OG?”
“I’m here.”
Flying above the incinerating back of Behemoth, a black bird swooped down. Its feathers shed upon its descent, giving way to a human form. He aimed the landing of his dive before the intact form of Combine, Chief of the Cuckoo Grimm.
The parasitic bird gave a gross chirp, as it recognized its bodyguards were burned away by Penny’s fire bombing.
“This… really sucks!” Qrow complained.
Sweat dripped down his face. He could feel the life being siphoned from him, leaving his skin cold. If he didn’t possess the Old One’s longevity, he might have died instantly in Combine’s presence.
Azkaban was somewhere near, so Qrow couldn’t activate his Semblance to save himself. But if things went according to plan, he wouldn’t remain vulnerable for long.
…
“How much could I pay you not to save my brother?” Raven posed to Emerald via their telepathic link.
“Discount low five figures,” the quick answer came.
“That was a joke.”
“Was it, though~?”
From her cliffside in the Black Oasis, Raven gripped the hilt of her katana and went into a low iaido stance. Her senses attuned to the combination of Emerald and Neo’s information. There, she saw her brother’s back turned towards her.
“Now, don’t flinch, little brother.”
…
“Neo?” Emerald prompted.
The petite girl poised her estoc in a thrusting motion above her shoulder. A silver light gleamed in her irises. She made out the positions of three key figures: Combine, Qrow, and Azkaban, before sealing the sight into her blade.
Neo took a long-drawn breath, and then emptied her lungs of all its air. She concentrated a majority of her Aura into the ultimate technique she created herself, leaving just a little in reserve. It was the most powerful move in her arsenal, and she would only be able to perform it once for a long while.
The small swordswoman felt traces of Yang’s influence swell in her soul. A bright fire of her beloved’s sun licked heat on her fingertips.
Neo’s hand moved quicker than the naked eye could catch. The sounds of shattering glass only followed after the fact.
In the same moment, Raven freed her blade from its sheath. Her bloody double-slash was going to cut a blazing X across the sky and Qrow’s back. But at the very last second, the move collided with Neo’s.
It was a clash of ultimate sword techniques that resounded across the entire continent. A piercing blade of blinding, silver glass and a cross drawn by a sinisterly, crimson paintbrush cut the sky into pieces. The world itself seemed to tear briefly, like it was made of paper.
Raven’s attack was barely deflected enough from her brother’s back, and guided in the direction of Combine instead. Likewise, Neo’s thrust was diverted towards Azkaban. Both their blades struck their marks down, slaying the Nightmare Grimm with their god-like skill.
Hmph, Raven scoffed with an impressed thought.
Out of the four brats, she might be the one who grew the most in all this…
“Not that I’d tell her that.”
…
“Uncle Qrow!” Yang shouted.
“On it, kid!”
With Combine and Azkaban down, Qrow felt the burden on him lifted. He tapped into Titan’s ability, while harnessing his own Semblance. A pair of great scythes unfolded in each of his hands. A familiar green glow permeated from his body to envelope the burning Behemoth.
The Grimm’s flying motion slowed to a crawl. Time slurred in the space it occupied until the creature stopped just above the wall and Team ENMY. Wind, fire, poison, and intermingled with it, falling caterpillar Grimm froze midair.
Yang and Mercury stared up, before bumping their fists.
The Spring Maiden felt adrenaline rush her veins. A crystallized crown formed its halo around her head. Her eyes blazed with the fire of her Semblance. She watched lightning crack across her vision, outlining Behemoth’s multiple weaknesses caused by redundancies in its anatomy.
“Wouldn’t be easy if we could just strike one spot. We’re gonna have to hit them all.”
The pair rocketed into the sky.
Mercury and Qrow went to work first. The young man summoned a storm to carry him across the Grimm’s expansive mass. Every kick he delivered made the floating island shudder. Likewise, the veteran Huntsman used his Reaper’s Semblance to sow death from atop. Together, they layered a cacophony of craters and trenches into Behemoth’s exoskeleton.
And then, Yang rose to join them.
“Many search the meaning of the shape given to their soul,” she heard Nai’s words echo the depths of her mind.
“I am Poison.
I am a Weapon.
I have lived and learned to become the agent that destroys my enemies’ bodies.
What does your life embody?
What meaning does its shape give?”
Yang jumped from falling debris to falling debris, making her way to the belly of the beast.
For my friends, I’ll be their warmth.
When they are lost, I’ll be their light.
And for anyone who tries to hurt them,
I’ll be the banisher of their darkness.
Yang’s Ember Celica shifted its form. Pistons fired across her entire arm. It rumbled with all the power and force of a jet engine.
I am the Fight that Life brings.
I am Fire.
And I Burn.
The exact moment, the noon sun reached its highest crest, the Spring Maiden’s punch let loose a flame likened to the birth of a new star. A supernova erupted in the center of Behemoth’s stomach, scorching constellations across the vulnerabilities of its body.
The halting of time was no small feat, and Titan’s ability only lasted a breath before reality resumed. But it was enough for Behemoth’s annihilation to be realized.
“Alright! It’s gonna pop!” Emerald shouted. “Clear the area!”
Yang, Mercury, and Qrow escaped the burning wreckage’s vicinity, as the Grimm plummeted down. Its body decomposed into countless scales, which combusted on any contact. The repeated detonations and weight of its carcass drove a crag into the wall and a small part of the city.
…
Yang let herself freefall. Burning cartilage still flew around her. Much of her energy was spent, but not all of it, per Emerald’s orders. But there was no denying the weariness setting into her nerves.
“Well, that was a thing.”
She looked to the side, and saw Mercury speed down to Emerald. Their leader stood on what remained of the wall. Her Uncle was nowhere in sight.
*Sigh* “I really want this day to be over…”
Just then, among the falling scraps, Yang spotted an oddity. It was a little singed, but it stood out from everything else with its white-colored design and the way it spun sharply through the air.
Yang squinted her eyes, and saw it was a playing card.
The Ace of Spades.
.
X X X X X
.
“Is this truly all the strength you can muster?”
Salem gave a wave of her hand, and the bright projectiles Glynda and Minerva cast her way dissolved into squirming maggots. As they writhed uselessly on the ground, the Witch made a claw with her hand. Her long nails thrusted in the direction of her opponents.
Suddenly, the sand beneath the sorcerers’ feet coiled like tentacles, pulling them into its embrace. Salem’s hand squeezed, and the prison of silt closed tighter.
“You’re spellcasting is rather rudimentary compared to what I’ve seen over the ages. But I suppose that is the folly of mortals. Not enough age to hone that wisdom, no matter the potential exhibited.”
“Then, perhaps another challenger is in order? One you can’t bully with your tricks.”
A crow flew down, before expanding its form into a man. He snapped his fingers once, and the “living sand” about to suffocate the sorcerers was dispelled.
Glynda blinked, not believing her eyes. The image of the man before her seemed to phase in and out of existence, as if their identity wasn’t solidified.
“Ozpin?”
“Apologies for the tardiness, Glynda,” the white-haired man with small glasses said. “There was an issue that required our assistance.”
“But, how…? What about Qrow?”
“Also, here,” the figure of Ozpin replied with a voice that was not his. “This body sharing thing is more complicated than it looks.”
The immortal’s body flickered between Ozpin’s visage and Qrow’s, and then another Glynda recognized as Beacon’s past Headmaster Myrddin’s. Reality bent, and several iterations blinked in quick succession. Some figures she remembered from historical texts, more of them she did not. The spinning of the forms continued until the image settled onto a small, hunched-back old man. He had the look of a retired farmer and had to use a cane to support him like a third leg.
“Titan…!” Salem snarled with rising furor.
“…Wicked,” the Old One spoke in a grounded tone. His voice was crass, but it dissipated into the surroundings like an earthquake. “Must we continue this vicious cycle?”
“Oh, it will not continue. Not for you.”
“So, it was inevitable. You and I must battle once more.”
“Immortal versus immortal,” the Witch gestured to herself, then Titan. A bloodthirsty Magic coursed her veins, making them pulse black across her pale skin.
“There can only be one.”
.
X X X X X
.
Yang was in no position to react. The playing card spinning outside her reach was practically a calling card for her death. All she could do was leave her fate to another’s hands.
…
Fortunately, those hands were the ones she trusted the most with her life.
The sound of shattering glass scattered pieces of Neo’s mirror portal into the falling sky. Her sword was held, outstretched. Its point pierced through the card as a bullet punched a hole through the same middle.
It should have been a perfect killshot. Yang and Neo read the trajectory, and it would’ve drilled right through Yang’s forehead, but Neo’s interference skewed its course.
“Shit!”
Yang whipped her neck as fast as she could, just in time for the bullet to tear a chunk of her hair off along with part of her right ear. Blood stained her cheek and a sharp ringing noise penetrated her eardrum.
“Hey, you. Can you hear me?” Emerald’s voice came from her comms, as Yang could see her leader smirking in the distance. She flipped her the middle finger.
“Told you she’d try.”
“Really, Em?! Now?!”
“Hey, you were the one who wanted to do this, despite my fair and wise warnings.”
“Can we save the ‘I told you so’s for later?”
“Say hi to her for me,” Emerald waved.
“WILL FREAKIN’ DO!!!”
Yang flashed an angry glare to Neo, who gave her a quick nod.
A second later, and her partner conjured a mirror for her to drop into. The portal pushed her into another, and then another, and so on. Each segment accelerated her into the distance.
Yang didn’t aim her fist. She knew Neo would do that for her. All she had to do was swing when the time came.
And at the last shuttle interval, she threw her fist.
Yang’s landing struck the terrain like a miniature meteorite. The target and source of her bullet wound was knocked off her feet, and onto her back. The shooter could have put up resistance, but the looming Spring Maiden erased any thought of that.
Instead, Inna Kao simply smiled.
“Hey, Yang.” She tipped her hat, still on the ground.
“Hey, Inna. Long time no see,” Yang replied unenthusiastically. “Em says, hi.”
“Oh? Tell her I said hi back.”
Yang did a quick sweep of her surroundings.
“No Bean?”
“Nah. I wanted to take my shot away from him just in case. Guess I made the right call on that.”
“Too bad. I wanted to see him.”
Inna stared at Yang for a while, before tilting her hat down.
“Heh… Well, you got me good. Don’t tell me ya’ll fixed that trap for lil ‘ol me?”
“It was Emerald’s idea. We’ve been ready ever since we heard you and Bean were around. We know we can’t underestimate you.”
“Shucks, Yang. Now, yer just makin’ me blush.”
Yang stared long and hard at the cowgirl.
“……I heard about your team. Sorry.”
“Yeah, well. I’ll be joinin’ them soon.”
“Funny thought that.”
Yang grabbed Inna’s rifle laying on the ground, and snapped it in half across her knee. It pained her a little to destroy someone’s personal weapon, but the bad feeling disappeared when she remembered she was missing part of her ear because of Inna. The gun would be repaired eventually. As far as she was concerned, they were even.
“Nothing to worry about if you don’t have your rifle,” Yang tossed the remains at Inna’s feet. “I’m done killing people, especially people I like.”
“…I can’t stop coming for you, Yang.”
“Yeah, you can. All you have to do is stop,” Yang shrugged. “But if you really want to keep trying, go ahead. I’ll be ready.”
“Hm hm! Told you, you’d be sorry, Inna,” Raven chuckled, as she stepped through her portal.
“Mom. Why am I not surprised you’re here?”
“Your little girlfriend actually matched my favorite move.”
“She’s a keeper.”
“I guess.”
“I’m totally telling her you approve.”
“I don’t. And another thing—”
Just then, Raven and Yang’s heads were flooded with an amalgam of information. Rather information, they were a bit like actual memories, but of events that had yet to occur. It was disorienting to say the least, but one thing was clear.
“Hey! Did you get that?!” Raven asked Yang.
“Yeah. What the hell was that, Em?”
“It’s the visions the Rakis siblings have been seeing. Don’t know why, but Knives was suddenly in a sharing mood. But after seeing what was in them, I think we can make a guess!”
“That vision…Temujin…!”
“That’s why you and Raven should get your asses back here on the double!”
“Mom!” Yang turned to Raven, and saw fear there like she never had before.
“Let’s go.”
.
X X X X X
.
“Hm. They brought down Behemoth,” Temujin rubbed her chin with an even composure.
The throne room, which was once a bustling war room, was now vacant. The lone ruler of Vacuo sat on her chair with only the Rakis siblings for company.
“Any deviations?”
“With almost all our fortifications intact, more of Vacuo’s citizens will survive by the end,” Mouse answered.
“Haha… They are truly something. Troublemakers. The perfect enemy against Salem and fate.”
The old woman smiled ear to ear, before breathing a contented sigh.
“Everything else is proceeding according to script?”
“……Yes.”
A nearby monitor showed an endless replay of Team ENMY’s assault on Behemoth. Right before the artillery from the Atlesian Fleet struck, a wisp of dark mist engulfed Camlann, and seemingly warped it out of the area.
On a security monitor, three figures made their way through the Hanging Gardens. The colossal armor of Camlann was recognized. Beside the Grimm were Adam and Blake. It wouldn’t be long until they reached the chamber.
“You two should go,” Temujin said to the siblings.
“No,” Mouse refused shakily. “We won’t leave you.”
“You have to guide our people.”
“We won’t leave you!”
The boy now had tears streaming his eyes. He wanted with everything to overturn the future he and his sister saw. A future where the Grimm overran their land. A future where their closest friends died…
…A future where Temujin offered her life to further incite the rage of her people.
“Oh,” the old Faunus put a hand on Mouse’s head. “You know, I faced a lot of criticism for adding that Eye for an Eye thing at the end of the Code. Mostly from Minerva, but whatever.” she smirked. “Who knew it would be the strength our people needed in their weakest hour? Surely, not me.”
Gentle sobs continued to escape Mouse, as Temujin continued.
“No, definitely not me… But if the death of one old woman past her prime can be the rally cry of our Kingdom, I will answer my duty with a full heart.”
“…”
“Go. My time is over.” Temujin announced proudly. “This is goodbye.”
“We won’t leave you!!!” Mouse cried back.
Temujin scratched her ear in frustration, before turning to her other side.
“Knives. I entrust you with your brother. You know what must be done. The both of you must regroup with Nai and Minerva. Notify them of my death. The first waves of the Grimm should be dealt with by then. Fall back here with Team ENMY, and eliminate Camlann. Hold the siege until Atlas’ Fleet arrives.”
The younger Rakis made no move to respond.
“Knives? Did you hear me?! Knives!”
Temujin shook her shoulder, and saw the girl’s expression turn with surprise.
“Oh, right!” Knives answered with wide eyes. Her tone was different from her usual. “Actually, I agree with Mouse there. You really shouldn’t be so quick to sacrifice yourself.”
The elder Faunus was struck speechless.
“There’s a lot of people who would mourn your death, Temujin. They’d be heartbroken,” the girl continued. “I know one person especially!”
“Who…?” the old Faunus could only mutter. “Who are you?”
The girl with the appearance of Knives could only smile brightly.
“There’s always a way to change fate, as well as those who are willing to fight it. You said it yourself.”
“…”
“But they can’t help you if you don’t believe in it too,” Knives held Temujin’s hand in both of hers. “This girl loves you so much. She begged for a way to save you, even in her dreams. That’s how deep her resolve is.”
Temujin continued to stare blankly at the girl. Knives met her gaze, unabashed. The young girl’s eyes seemed to glint with a brighter silver than usual.
Then, Temujin remembered where she heard this speech mannerism before, as well as this unflinching determination.
“Summer Rose?”
#rwby#rwby fanfiction#yang xiao long#neopolitan#emerald sustrai#mercury black#raven branwen#qrow branwen#rwby au#ENMY
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Caramel Macchiato
genre: fluff
member: taehyung
words: 1924
One sinful tennis all-star and an adorable puppy to-go please.
It was your final year in high school. Just a few more months of being stuck in this shithole school in this shithole town and then you would be free. You didn’t necessarily know what you would pursue after high school, nor did you really care. You just wanted to get away from the same old cliques, the same old “can you believe she slept with that guy?!,” the same old horny as hell teenage boys that just wanted to get in any girl’s pants…just thinking about the cliche toxins of high school made you recoil as you sat on the cold bleachers facing the tennis courts.
You shivered in the crisp autumn evening. The digital clock on your phone read 5:15 pm. You closed your eyes momentarily and imagined taking a hot bath and curling up under several blankets in your bed with a good book. Your dream could only be fulfilled after dropping off your best friend, the girls’ all-star tennis champion, Julie, at her home. Although waiting for Julie and the rest of the girls’ team to finish practice for the past four years has snatched two hours away from you everyday, you enjoyed having those two hours to be alone with your thoughts and far away from reality.
The soft, repetitive pinging of tennis balls and the shuffling of feet provided serene background noise to accompany your thoughts. This evening, the topic of your imagination was the hot barista from the cafe near your school. The first time you saw him was a week ago while waiting in line to order. He seemed young enough to be in high school, but his appearance was a sinful gift from the devil. You giggled at the thought of his goofy smile and how his eyes crinkled when he gave people their drinks. His somewhat messy brown hair curled ever so slightly under his cap. Under the innocent uniform of a baseball cap and a green apron lay muscular thighs and arms that stretched the tight, black clothing he wore. His jeans had rips in the knees and a little scab peeked out from one of the holes. Every movement of his arms revealed his toned biceps. Within what felt like three seconds, you found yourself at the front of the line, cheeks flushed and eyes wide as the hot mystery barista across the counter smiled kindly and awaited your order.
“Miss? Are you ready to order?” His dark eyes drifted to the growing line behind you.
“Huh? Oh yeah sorry, can I get a…” In your flustered state, you completely forgot what you were planning to order. While you frantically searched the menu for a drink, you could feel his burning stare on you. All you wanted to do was get your drink and scurry the hell out of there.
“Do you have caramel macchiatos here?” you blurted.
The barista hesitated for a moment, chuckled, and said, “No, unfortunately. We only sell black coffee here.”
“O-oh, okay then…I’ll have a tall black coffee I guess.” You hated black coffee.
“I’m just kidding silly! What kind of cafe only sells black coffee? They wouldn’t make a profit!”
As if your cheeks couldn’t get any redder, your entire face became a huge tomato. How could sharing the same presence as this boy make you act so clueless? He was right, who the fuck buys black coffee? The boy giggled at your embarrassed state and grabbed a plastic cup.
“So one tall caramel macchiato. Name, please?” Cup and marker in hand, he glanced at you through his bangs.
“Y/N.” The only thing you’ve managed to say without sounding like a total idiot was your name.
“Y/N,” he repeated as he scribbled your name on the cup.
You reached into your bag for your wallet. By the time you pulled out your card to pay, he had already whisked away to the brewing station.
“Don’t worry,” he called out to you, “it’s on the house.”
Before you could playback any further into the memory of the “Barista Boy Encounter,” you were being pulled off of the bleachers by Julie.
“Y/N, stop daydreaming and unlock the car, it’s freezing balls out here,” Julie whined.
The two of you grabbed your belongings and headed for your car. Julie blasted the heat as you turned on the engine.
It was the boys’ tennis team’s turn to practice now. A few of the boys walked in front of your car on their way to the courts. You knew all of them; the tall one with huge shoulders was their number one player, the annoying but insanely hot fuckboy was known for lying about scores, and the short one hosted the craziest parties on Fridays. This time, however, there was another boy walking with them. He was tall and had long legs and huge hands. The tennis bag slung over his shoulder seemed minuscule in comparison to his tall figure. Someone must’ve made a joke because his mouth widened into a boxy grin and he clapped his hands together.
Julie reached over to the driver’s side and honked your horn impatiently.
“Hurry up, dumbasses!” Julie huffed.
Three out of the four boys ran towards the courts while the unfamiliar one lingered behind and glanced in your direction. Through your dimmed windshield, you got a better look at the boy. His face flashed with confusion as a wave of recognition drowned you.
The hot barista from the other day was also the hot tennis player standing in front of you. With a smirk, he waved at you and ran to catch up with the other boys. You sat in silence for a moment as you recollected your thoughts.
“Do you know that guy? He’s kinda cute! Is he new?” Julie asked, also feeling pretty overwhelmed.
“Remember that barista guy?” You stammered.
“No fucking way! Y/N, he was flirting with you and now’s your chance to have the high school romance of your dreams! Jimin always invites everyone from the tennis teams so if you come with me to his party Friday night I can set you up! What’s his name? Ooh, please let it be something sexy, I swear to god if he’s an Arnold like the last one I’ll scream!” Julie exclaimed.
You pressed on the gas and tried to remember what his name tag said.
“Definitely not Arnold. It was something long and I think it started with a T.”
Julie groaned. “You don’t even know his name? No wonder you’ve only had one boyfriend in your entire life. You have no idea how to flirt.”
The next morning you paid extra attention to your outfit. Now that you knew Hot Barista Dude went to your school and that you had someone to impress, you actually cared about your appearance for once. Senioritis would not be the death of you today. You took a picture of your loose t-shirt, skinny jeans, and oversized jacket and sent it to Julie for confirmation. If you really wanted to get close to this boy, Julie would have to help you. Afterall, she was the girl every boy in the school swooned over. She knew perhaps a little too much about relationships.
You arrived to class with a cup of coffee in one hand and a physics textbook in the other. Once you got to your desk, you opened your textbook to study. Little did you know, someone had plopped into the seat next to yours and was reaching for your coffee cup.
“Starbucks? Really? You didn’t like my caramel macchiato?”
You were pulled from your trance by a large hand snatching your cup and taking a sip from it. His lips wrapped around your straw in the exact place where your red lipstick stained the green plastic tube. Your eyes slowly trailed up his face until you were greeted by two puppy dog eyes.
Goddamnit. It was him.
He swished the coffee in his mouth and returned your cup. “Caramel macchiato with extra caramel and almond milk. Interesting choice.”
“You got all that from one sip? I didn’t know baristas had superpowers.”
He chuckled. “I didn’t know I would get to see the pretty girl from the coffee shop either.” You could feel your cheeks turning red.
Before you could reply, your physics teacher began passing out a physics exam.
You overheard him talking to the barista boy.
“Are you the new student I keep hearing about? I heard you transferred because our school begged to have the number one tennis player in the area on our team. I’m guessing that’s you?”
“Uhhh yeah, guess that’s me. I’m Taehyung.”
“Welcome then! Since it’s your first day, I’ll let this exam slide but make sure to read chapter 14 before next class! Y/N will show you around until you get the hang of things, isn’t that right, Y/N?”
Your calculation of the velocity of a basketball was interrupted by the sound of your name. Taehyung smirked at you and you nodded your head a little too vigorously.
“Sure, I guess I wouldn’t mind giving you a tour of our fascinating school.” Taehyung caught your sarcasm and giggled.
“Okay, back to work!” Your teacher exclaimed and patted Taehyung’s shoulder.
All you could think about for the rest of class was how Taehyung called you pretty. It would be safe to say you failed that physics test.
Finally, the bell rang. Luckily, your next period was study hall so you could get to know this Taehyung guy. Taehyung checked his phone while you were packing your bags. His lockscreen was a picture of a fluffy puppy with its tongue sticking out.
“Oh my god, that puppy is so cute! Is it yours?” You exclaimed hands clasped over your mouth in adoration.
“Yeah! His name is Yeontan! I got him as a present for winning regionals a few months ago. He’s adorable, isn’t he?” Taehyung stood closer to you so you could get a better look at the picture on his phone. His shoulder brushed against yours and you devoured the smell of his crisp cologne. He opened up an album titled “YEONTANIE~~” and scrolled through a few photos. If he weren’t standing next to you, you would’ve been texting up a storm to Julie about how hard you were falling for this boy. From the coffee shop moment to the fact that he doesn’t hold back from blatantly flirting with you to the fact that his best friend was his puppy, all of it screamed boyfriend material.
“Shouldn’t we get going, Y/N?” Taehyung turned to you and playfully tugged on a strand of your hair.
“Yeah, totally forgot we were in school…follow me!” You grabbed his arm and briskly speed-walked out of the classroom. On your way to the library, girls stopped in their tracks and whispered to their friends.
“Holy shit, who is he?” “You think he’s single?” “No way, look at how he’s ogling over the girl he’s with.”
Through the corner of your eye, you could tell that Taehyung was staring at you. You blushed, for the millionth time, and let go of his arm. He lunged forward and opened the library door for you.
“This way, mademoiselle,” Taehyung said in a goofy French accent.
Although the two of you had only known each other for a few hours, there was some connection between you two that made you feel so comfortable being around him.
“Thanks,” you said, blushing.
“The pleasure is all mine.”
Two weeks after I promised I would post…wow good job me ;)
I wanna make a pt 2 so lmk if you would like one!
Thank you for reading! ♥✰
#bts#bangtan#bangtan sonyeondan#bts fanfic#bts fluff#bts v#bts taehyung#kim taehyung#kim taehyung fluff#taehyung fluff#kpop#bts scenarios#bts v fluff#jungkook#jimin#taehyung#jhope#suga#rm#jin#bangtan boys#fluff
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omg i forgot about paperboy please continue it!!!!
you ain’t the only one, anon. but ask and you shall receive! 😘
catch up on the first part here!
paperboy: part two
december 27th, 1982
Ian woke up the morning of December 27th around 4:45 AM, feeling rather warm–but not hotter than usual.
5:00 AM: He stepped into the shower, quickly rubbed a bar of soap over his body before shampooing his hair and jumping right back out again.
5:15 AM: After changing into his clothes, he ran down the staircase, brushing his teeth. He reached for a banana on the counter.
5:18 AM: His uncle rounded the corner from the study, looking intently at his nephew as he attempted to brush his teeth and eat at the same time.
“What in God’s name are ye doing, man?” He implored of his nephew, setting his newspaper down on the counter and leaning against it, eyebrows raised.
Ian looked from his toothbrush in one hand to the banana in the other, thinking of a proper way of explaining himself. He shrugged slightly, with a sheepish grin on his face. “Killin’ two birds with one stone?”
Jamie shook his head, a smile gracing his lips.
5:23 AM: Ian bid farewell to his uncle, and went to head out the door. Jamie stopped him, however, as soon as he hit the doorframe.
“Ian, the back of yer shirt is drenched.”
“Well,” Ian replied, “I did take a shower, Uncle.”
“I ken that, ye dolt. I mean that ye’re sweating, wi’ it bein’ freezing outside.” Jamie shook his head, then gestured his hand towards himself. “Come ‘ere, then.”
Ian, rolling his eyes slightly, and, shoulders slouched, walked towards his uncle. Jamie put the back of his hand against his nephew’s forehead, pursed his lips tightly before instructing the young lad to cough.
The boy did as he was bid, and a bunch of mucus seemed to jump from his lungs to his throat. The sound was thick and disgusting, and Jamie rose his eyebrows at his nephew.
“Looks like ye’re not going to work today, after all,” Jamie smiled, then pushed his nephew lightly on the shoulder towards the staircase. “Back to bed wi’ ye. Make sure you tell yer mother I told you to stay here.”
“Alright,” Ian agreed. He took a step forward but then turned back to his uncle, eyes wide. “What about Geordie?”
“Dinna worry about that, lad,” Jamie smiled. “I’ll take care o’ yer route for you.”
Nodding, Ian turned back to the staircase and took them two at a time, a wide smile on his lips as he went back to his room. Little did his uncle know that Ian was not sick, and just had taken a very hot shower.
And thank God for allergies, he thought to himself as he curled up in his bed, ecstatic at the idea of being able to sleep in.
Despite several attempts to get himself on his nephew’s bike, Jamie instead opted to drive his truck around the suburban neighborhoods of Boone, throwing the papers out the window as he passed. He was able to finish the route in just under an hour, which was much different than poor Ian Murray Jr.’s two-and-a-half-hour biking escapade.
When he pulled into the small subdivision of Simon’s Landing, his heart started to pound. Not from nerves–of course not from nerves–but just from the sheer knowledge of her presence.
He had tried, multiple times, to pick up the phone book and search for her phone number, skimming the yellow pages for Beauchamp, C. And amongst the Lambert’s and John’s and Harrison’s, his finger had hit that inked letter C–with the eight digits following–and he would slam the book closed. Both of the Ian’s had chastised him multiple times over the matter, and even his sister joined in the proceedings once or twice.
“Ask her on a date, ye clotheid,” she frustratedly muttered to her brother over breakfast one morning. “If you dinna want to do it, then I will do it for ye.”
The opportunity had presented itself to him this morning with Ian’s sickness. Whether this was a sign from God or not, he didn’t know. But he took it graciously, and asked Him not to let him screw this up.
With his nerves clogging up his throat, to the point he was almost suffocating, he walked up the few steps to her porch and approached her door. He rang the doorbell once and heard the shrill ring of it echo through the house. Rocking back and forth on his heels, he shoved his hands in his pockets, the newspaper squeezed between his arm and his side.
Every second that passed seemed like years. Each new breath that he exhaled came out in faster waves as his heartbeat increased, the cold morning air causing them to form into mist in front of him. Getting slightly impatient–and worried that she wasn’t inside–he looked through one of the front windows of her porch in search of her.
As soon as he did this, however, the door swung open and there she was.
“Good morning, Mr. Fraser,” she greeted, a warm smile on her face as she pulled her cardigan closer to her body against the brisk morning chill. She looked from his face to the newspaper in his arm and nodded at it. “Is that for me?”
Flustered, he fumbled with the paper in his hands and thrust it forward, unattractively and clumsily, at her face. “Aye, I–uh–yes, this is yours.”
The smile on her face grew ever wider, showing all of her beautiful white teeth. She stepped to the side and opened the door just a tad wider, inviting him to come inside. Still discomfited, he nodded once and came inside, allowing the warmth to envelope him in a blanket of comfort.
“Would you like some coffee? I just made a pot,” she inquired, gesturing to the kitchen where the coffee pot sat in his view. Shaking his head, but thanking her nonetheless, he watched her walk out of the entryway and into the brightly colored room. A moment passed before she turned towards him, a sheepish smile on her lips as she filled up a mug. “You can come in here, you know.”
He took a step, then realized that his boots were wet from the snow outside. Grimacing, he called to her as he went to place his shoes outside, “I’ll take my shoes off outside, so as to not ruin your floors.”
She waved a hand in dismissal, but he didn’t see it. He popped off his boots in front of the door and stepped back inside in his woolen socks.
“So, where’s your nephew this morning?” Claire asked as he stepped into the kitchen, eyebrows raised as she took a sip of her coffee. He committed her drink of choice to memory: Black, no sugar, no creamer.
“He’s at home sick. He woke up wi’ a fever this morning.”
A concerned look crossed over her face as she set down her cup and crossed her arms over her chest. “What were his other symptoms?”
Jamie shrugged, “I’m no’ one to ken exactly what to look for when someone is sick, but he was sweatin’ a lot; his whole shirt was soaked through. His head was hot to the touch and when I asked him to cough, ‘twas the most disgusting thing I’d ever heard.”
Her fingers tapped on her arm in thought before she asked, “Had he taken a shower this morning?”
“Aye,” He replied, eyebrows shrunk together in confusion as she chuckled lightly. “Why?”
She pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. The look that she was giving him made him nervous, which caused him to voice a nervous, “What?”
“Well…” She tried to suppress laughter as she took another sip of her coffee. “I do believe that you have been played a fool.”
Jamie, flabbergasted, left out a huff of agitation. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Since I haven’t seen him, I can’t say that I’m entirely right, but I do believe that he has nothing more than a small case of allergies.”
Getting rather annoyed, he crossed his arms and stared at her crossly. “And how do you know that, just from the wee bit of information that I’ve shared wi’ ye?”
She was trying so hard to keep her smile contained from behind the rim of her coffee cup. “Because I’m a pediatrician, Mr. Fraser. It’s my job.”
If he thought he was embarrassed before, he was downright mortified. His face flushed and words seemed to die in his throat; not a single one of the apologies he could think of were enough to excuse his error. There was nothing he wanted to do more than to kneel at her feet and beg for mercy.
As much as he thought she was mad at him, though, he could see that it was much the opposite. She seemed amused at his tongue-tied state, Damn her, and the smirk on her lips proved it.
Scrambling to find a way to make it up to her, he stammered out, “Can I take ye to dinner?”
A cringe formed on his face as he watched her eyes widen then return to their normal size, but the smile didn’t leave her face. Before she could answer, he went to explain himself, the words spilling out of his mouth in a long stream of word vomit. “I mean, not that I like ye more now that I know that ye’re a doctor. My opinion has really been the same since I first met ye, it’s just that–”
“I would love to go to dinner,” she interrupted, setting her coffee mug down on the counter. She turned from his shocked face to her refrigerator, where a small calendar rested to mark her schedule. He watched as she pulled a marker from the holder and went to find a day she had off, her slender finger pointing to the 31st. “What are your plans for New Year’s Eve, Mr. Fraser?”
Shifting from foot to foot, he shrugged. “Nothin’ much, I dinna think. I don’t start workin’ again until the New Year.”
“I work in the morning, but maybe we can do something that night,” she started to write his name down as Mr. Fraser but stopped short. She turned sheepishly to him and murmured, “I suppose since we know each other well enough now, we could know each other by our first names, right, Jamie?”
Jamie nodded with a smile, savoring the sound of his name on her lips. “I suppose so, Claire.”
#hey look i was able to write something!#woooooot#thanks for asking about it anon!#idk when this will ever get updated again but /shrugs#this is good enough for now#also i realize i love writing jamie and claire when they first meet#why? idk#paperboy#outlander fanfic#outlander au#mine#my fanfic
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Butterfly Babe
See the sparkle & shine in a video clip over on Instagram!: www.instagram.com/p/Bx2b7Qkjue…
Welp, I wanted to have this up yesterday as I said in my WIP Wednesday! but I became preoccupied with catching bugs in Animal Crossing to repay my debt to Tom Nook...
But it's all finished and up now
Believe it or not, this started as an excuse to do more with a set of metallic watercolors because as much as I love how they look I just feel like I don't get many opportunities to use. I stumbled upon this picture in Yesterdays-Paper 's gallery: Be My Little Baby Butterfly and thought a recreation akin to my Figures in Good Style piece could be fun and involve metallic watercolors .
I don't know where it came from, but I had a pretty specific image in my mind of what I wanted the girl in the end result to look like since I started doing pose thumbnails to figure out, which is why I ended up picking this pose even though I knew it was going to testing my perspective and shading skills a little bit. Which it did, but I think it turned out okay.
Funny story. I actually sketched her out traditionally and was going to ink her traditionally too, but I had drawn the skirt separately off to the side so I wouldn't disrupt the body base and between accidentally overdrawing some lines (namely the sleeve things on her arms) so that that would look weird when adding the skirt and just having one of those nights where for whatever reason my inking patience was just out the window, I ended up scanning the sketch and doing the line art of her digitally and printing it out on to the mixed media paper I wanted to use.
That wasn't a problem since I had already decided I wanted to do the metallic watercolor, watercolor wings (both of which I knew would each have to be on their own separate watercolor papers/layers) and do the girl in alcohol markers for color (though I did end up adding some colored pencil on top to fix some shading bugs). The only issue with printing the line art was that most of the lines did a weird ghosting thing, which struck me as extra odd because I drew and printed some guidelines for the wings that didn't do that, so I did end up having to go back and ink most of the lines with a real pen to hide that, which is why the lines still look semi-organic compared to if they were straight digital. Well, and technically I forgot that I had considering doing the lines in a color other than black, but in the end, I think the black was probably for the best. Only thing is that I did the antennae in black and it was only after I printed it and started coloring that I thought it was a little too harsh, and doubly so considering the ones in the original postcard were a white/silver color. So I went over them with a white gelly pen just enough to pale them out but not enough to make them disappear.
Which reminds me; the main part of the design for the girl/outfit that I changed from the reference would be the shoe/ankle area. In the original, it's just black tights and white/cream heels, but I pulled the idea of toe-less tights and an anklet to match her dress ruffles and the things in her hair from...I don't even know, but the idea occurred to me and I ran with it. And I do think it helps bring together certain elements of the outfit just a little more. Plus the original shoes wouldn't have looked very interesting in this particular pose.
Honestly though once I had her drawn, the girl was the easy part.
The bigger challenges were mixing the exact color of the metallic paint that I wanted, the wings, and deciding on the background aside from the metallic portion.
I did my best to use some white, gold, and black of the metallic paints to create this funky gray-gold color, since I do like the gray in the original but I didn't really have a good solution for it in my version, and I thought the straight gold would've been too harsh. It doesn't look like much on the scan, but I think it came out super pretty in-person. I also deliberated between several different options of decorative paper decorated like piles of old paper and stuff (that block has come in so handy for things that were never even thought of when it was purchased) for the backing piece and how I wanted to incorporate the border idea from the original; ultimately though I thought this stamp-print paper looked the best and I liked the idea of the two different washi tapes you can see for a border between the metallic and the background paper, as I've been having the same issue with that as the metallic watercolor: I have a small washi tape collection I love, but I just haven't used any of it much.
You can also see in the WIP that I took three separate stabs at the wings, partly for experimentation's sake and partly to give myself more options just in case one set didn't turn out that great. Ironically enough, of the three sets, I still ended up going with the first one because it felt the most balanced between the top and bottom wing colors/patterns. Figuring out the lines before I started painting was a little tricky since I needed something waterproof but I wanted it to be subtle, and I ended up going with my "clear" Stardust gelly roll, which actually leans on the gold side, and then I went back over the lines once they were dry and it picked up a little watercolor pigment, making it slightly darker but not overbearingly so.
Oh, and about those wings...I ended up Googling to try and find what kind of butterfly they were from to have a clearer reference for painting/drawing them myself, and oddly enough the best match I found was not, in fact, a butterfly but was instead a Magpie Moth. Granted, I'm not an expert on these things and I don't think I spent more than an hour looking into it, but I did seriously consider titling this something to do with my moth revelation because of how odd it struck me. It doesn't really change anything, it was just kind of weird to me.
Also, both cutting out the wings and the girl were not exactly fun. The watercolor paper for the wings was so stiff that by the time I cut three sets out my hand was a little sore and the girl...Well, you can see all the little things I had to try to work around and how close I was trying to get. I think that speaks for itself in why that was more a chore than an enjoyment.
And that was pretty much where I stopped two nights ago because I wanted to make sure everything was dry, it was four in the morning, and I was tired, but I snapped the WIP shot before going to be so I would have something to post in the meantime. (I had hoped to have the finished piece up on Wednesday but obviously, that didn't happen).
I resumed the next day and started with figuring out placement, washi taping, and gluing everything together. This included a few logistic hiccups over how to glue like the girl and the wing and the metallic piece together so everything laid okay, but ultimately I actually didn't have to do anything special because while the watercolor paper is thick, in practice it isn't so thick that it was causing layering issues, so I was just careful about how I glued and left it alone.
Then I wanted to make sure everything was dry again and hopefully that it would dry mostly flat, so I stacked it carefully between heavy books and left it for the night.
Originally, I was just going to leave it at that. But I came back to it the next day and it was missing something.
After a little testing, I ended up adding the outlines of some small butterflies on the stamp paper edge for ambiance and officially closed the drawing by adding my little signature to balance out the leg area. I still think maybe some tiny butterfly stickers or something on the metallic portion would make the scan look better, but in person, I just can't justify it because I don't want to overwhelm the metallic quality or crowd the center since the more empty space draws the eye there so well.
There are mistakes and things I could've done differently here and there, but ultimately I'm happy with how it turned out and I'm glad I can finally post it.
Now the question is to decide what my next big project like this will be...hmm...
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Artwork © me, MysticSparkleWings
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Where to find me & my artwork:
My Website | Commission Info + Prices | Ko-Fi | dA Print Shop | RedBubble | Twitter | Tumblr | Instagram
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What I want from (Fan)fiction
I love fanfiction, but good Lord is it hard to find good stuff in any fandom. I haven’t counted, but my guess is that only about 10% of works in any fandom are high quality, and the rest range from “okay, I can read this” to “holy fuck, this sucks so badly I now hate this pairing.” Of course, some of it is personal preference. There are tropes I can’t stand that other people love, and that’s great! Diversity is important. This is my list of things that I want from fanfiction. A lot of this applies to all fiction. I start with tips that I feel many readers would agree with, and end with my personal preferences that I know people disagree with. Specific fandoms mentioned here are DS9, Orphan Black, Harry Potter, and Game of Thrones.
1) Use the characters’ names, and use them in the way that they’re used in the original material. No one in Harry Potter called Minerva McGonagall “Nerva,” so you shouldn’t, either. Besides, it sounds silly. Call her Minerva.
Also, avoid referring to the characters by their characteristics unless absolutely necessary. In a scene with Cosima and Delphine, avoid referring to them as “the brunette” and “the blonde.” If I’m reading Cophine fanfic, I know damn well what color their hair is. Besides, the names are mostly just convenient tags to let the reader know who’s doing what, to help with the movie playing along in our brains. Adding in extra markers takes the focus away from the action. I understand you’re trying to avoid redundancy, but it ends up a little confusing.
“Cosima gasped as the blonde rolled on top of her.” This makes me wonder if a third woman joined the action. Just say Delphine rolled on top of her - it’s more clear.
2) The majority of your speech tags should be said or asked. It’s okay to throw in an occasional “she yelled” or “he gasped,” but keep those to a minimum, and only use as appropriate. Speech tags, like names, are mostly to tell the reader who said what. You don’t even need them a lot of the time if there are only two people speaking. Using creative and unnecessary speech tags, again, takes the reader away from the main action or message.
3) Tighten your writing. Specifically:
- Avoid excessive modifiers and prepositional phrases. “She spat with vemon” should be shortened to “she spat” unless of course there is literal venom involved, in which case, remove the “with.” “He frowned sadly,” is redundant. How else would he frown? “She thought to herself.” Well, who else is she going to think to?
- In general, if you can take words out without changing the meaning of the passage, take those words out. One way I’ve found to do this is by giving myself a page or word limit that’s a little bit shorter than what I already have. If the draft is 3,000 words, I try to make it 2,500. Going back to point #1, using the characters’ names helps with this. “Odo” reads more quickly than “the shapeshifter.”
4) PROOFREAD YOUR SHIT! Proofread it yourself a day or two after you finish, and then get someone else to proofread it. None of us can catch all of our own errors by ourselves, but we need to make sure it’s as clean as possible before sending it out into the world. Proofread especially for the following:
- Verb tense. Past tense is the most common, but the most important thing to watch for is consistency. I read a fic yesterday where the writer switched randomly into present tense halfway though, then went back to past. There was no time travel or flashbacks involved, just sloppy writing, and it took me out of an otherwise interesting story.
- Check your spelling. We’ll forgive the stray typo here and there, and some of us won’t even notice if you misspell “achieve,” but if you spell Kira’s given name as Niris, you’re showing that you don’t care about details.
5) Use accurate and appropriate language. I’ve lost count of the number of DS9 fics in which Major Kira “stomps” around the station. I can’t remember her ever stomping on the show, though. She strode, sashayed, walked, ran, jogged, limped, and (maybe) marched. She might have even bounced or skipped, but she never stomped. Stomping is what children do when they’re angry.
Similarly, don’t get too creative with names for body parts. Don’t use “digits,” use “fingers.” When discussing breasts, never, EVER call them orbs, globes, or mounds.
6) Be true to the characters. I know the point of fanfiction can be to stretch the boundaries of canon fiction, but if you go too far from the canon characters, you create entirely new characters who happen to have the same names. This doesn’t mean you can pair them up in canonically unrealistic ways. Garak and Captain Sisko can certainly have a tumble in Garak’s dressing room without either of them leaving character. This includes physical traits as well as personality. Some examples of what to avoid:
- Odo fucks Kira in the middle of a staff meeting, and she is pleasantly surprised. No one is upset about this. None of this is in character.
- Kira has massive breasts. In the show, Kira’s breasts are lovely (from what we can see), but they are not large.
7) Okay, so this one relates to #6, but might apply more to me than anyone else. I don’t like AUs. I just saw one that had Cosima as an actress, and another with Delphine as a kindergarten teacher. Guys.... they are both SCIENTISTS. That is a critical piece of their characters, not only professionally, but in terms of how they see and interact with the world around them. Similarly, Jaime Lannister is a soldier and a nobleman. He is not a musician. Brienne is not a fangirl. You can be inspired by characters and put elements of them into your own original work, but if you change too much about them, they are not the characters you say they are.
Of course, some people love AUs. If you like AUs, great, keep writing and reading them! They are obviously popular (about half of the Cophine fics I saw just yesterday were AUs). For me, though, you have to really sell me on your concept before I’ll even click the link.
Amendment to #7) This doesn’t apply to divergent plot lines within the original universe. Some of the best stories I’ve read follow the pattern of “What if [plot point] had turned out differently?” These keep the characters in character. What if Kira hadn’t died in “Children of Time?” What if Cosima had never been self-aware? What if Hermione were killed in book seven? What if Brienne found Sansa Stark and they went on adventures together? All of these work because they keep the characters in character.
What if Harry were a muggle? That works less for me. Being a wizard is too integral to who Harry is as a person. Still, if you write it well, I might give it a shot, provided that most everything else stays true to the Potterverse we know and love.
8) It’s okay to use a foreign language I don’t know, as long as it’s realistic. I don’t speak French, but Delphine does, so having her cry out French phrases during sex totally fits, and is better than having her do it in English. I can figure out the meaning from context. If characters are having a conversation in a foreign language, and the exact meaning is critical to the story, there are a few ways to handle that:
- One way is to have them speaking in, say, French, with each other, and then have a third character ask for a recap or summary.
- Have a footnote somewhere translating the lines into English (or whatever the primary language of the piece is).
- Have everything in English (or the primary language), but somehow signal to the reader that they have switched into French. Maybe use italics and have a third character point out that they aren’t not speaking English anymore.
Do not assume that your readers DON’T understand the foreign language you’re using, or that we all want an immediate translation. Repeating the same message in English immediately after giving it in French slows down the pace of the story, and is literally redundant.
#fanfic#fanfiction#cophine#odo#minerva mcgonagall#writing#harry potter fanfiction#got fanfiction#cophine fanfiction#ds9 fanfic#kira nerys#delphine cormier#cosima x delphine
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any art tips?
Oh. Well, I can try to give tips? I’ve never really done that before honestly. My level of arting is nowhere near professional and I haven’t tried a ton of stuff to have opinions on them, but I can try.
This kinda turned into a supply list, but for my own drawing process look at the bottom of the post!
Paper
Since I am a traditional artist over a digital artist, paper is kinda a big deal. My current personal favorite is the Strathmore 400 Series Sketch 9 x 12″ fine tooth surface sketchbook. The thickness of the pages keeps it from getting ripply as you work with it, hard coloring in with pencil does not cause bubbles, and pens/markers do not bleed onto the next page. However, it will leave an indent on the next page if you press too hard.
I highly advise against standard 70 page spiral notebooks for anything more than little doodles. The pages are much thinner than they used to be, and will ripple, bubble, fall apart under heavy marker use, and indent many pages. Heavier paper is honestly just the way to go, plus no annoying blue lines.
Price-wise, I know the standard spirals are usually extremely cheap and easy to buy in bulk, but I can’t remember the price of my Strathmore. It’s not too terribly expensive though.
Pencils
Honestly? Pencils aren’t a big deal to me. I use a variety ofcheap, basic mechanical pencil brands. My current preference however, seems to be Bic. Any brand should work fine, but if the lead constantly breaks, I’d suggest moving up to a larger lead size, or buying a different, stronger brand of pencil.
Personally, I never use 0.5mm lead. It is far too delicate, and I have never found myself needing such a small point to draw with. I find 0.7mm to be the best, as you can achieve both thick and thin lines easily, and press fairly hard with it. I mainly use 0.9mm, as I can press veryhard for dark lines, sketch large and clearly visible soft lines, and it compliments the exaggerated features of my casual art style.
Pens/Markers
So this one is a doozy. I use a very large range of pen products with varying standards of quality. For black pens, the Pilot Precise V5 was my trusty pen for many years before the ink ran out. Now, I currently use a 3 pack of Sakura Pigma Micron pens (specifically 01 (0.25mm), 03 (0.35mm), and 05 (0.45mm)) and previously also had a 005 (0.20mm) Micron as well. The clarity and ease of lines with Microns in my experience is excellent, but the ink quality itself, not so much. It is quite pale compared to other inks, and can be worn away by an eraser even after fully drying. Overall though, it’s quite nice.
My general rule of thumb with pens is that the point shouldn’t indent the page, and if the ink is black,it should shine black under a light and not purple. (Lower quality inks will shine purple when tilted to face a light).
With colored pens my use isn’t as narrow. My favorite is my Uni-ball Vision red pen (I also have a green one), but I also use Bic intensity pens, Inc R-2 Blast pens (careful with these, they release a ton of ink), and even Sharpie pens.
For markers, I can’t really suggest what to stay away fromand what’s good, but I can tell you what I use. On the higher quality end, I have a trio of Prismacolor Premier markers which I’ve found have excellent color, and cover space quickly, but can spread and bleed easily. But what do I mostly use? Sharpies. You have to be careful with these. Sharpies bleed very easily, and will darken very clearly when you overlap it, so coloring has to be very neat and a one-time thing unless a darker color is desired. The color range of Sharpies from what I’ve seen, also isn’t very diverse if you don’t go hunting for the stranger colors, so if you use them, have something to color over them to adjust to the color you desire. In my case, I often use a mixture of Sharpies as a base color, and colored pencils over it to adjust.
I won’t make it’s own section about it, but the brand I use of colored pencils is also Prismacolor, as they work really well with the Sharpies, and can even solidly color over the marker. The larger the set the better, as it gives you more colors to adjust with. However, they’re not cheap.
Technique?
So this is less tips I guess and more my own personal routine with drawing. Feel free to draw your own way, or if you think the way I do it may help you improve your own art, go ahead and try some of the stuff I do! This by no means is any standard of a good art practice, it’s just personally how I draw.
I always start with a sketch, as many artists do. I make sure it’s very light that I can erase it, but clear and visible even after erasing it. Which is the odd thing I do? I erase a sketch immediately after I finish it. My sketches are less posing and positioning than they are quick, sloppy, simplistic versions of my final product. I do not usually draw basic shapes and lines for anatomy and poses, but I do sometimes. If you struggle with anatomy, I suggest still using basic shapes, as they help a lot.
Here this can go one of two ways. If I decide to ink the piece, I do not erase the sketch, and simply clean it up while doing the new lineart. This can be risky, and can result is messy lines or concave shapes that weren’t intended, so redrawing in pencil first can always be helpful. If I decide to not ink the piece, I erase the sketch, leave it visible, and draw a much darker and more visible clean version.
When it comes to colored pens, I usually only use them to supplement the drawing, blood being the most often example. Coloring large areaswith pens is messy, and a waste of ink, and I advise against it. Coloring in a pencil piece with colored pencils is also a big no-no to me personally, as it will cause the colors to blend with the gray lead, can smudge said lead, and they will pop much less against the lead as opposed to ink.
I hope this means something/helps I guess? I’m not very good at the whole tip thing, sorry!
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When I learned about the amazing opportunity to pour my passion for creativity into potentially becoming a Graphic 45 Brand Ambassador, I was inspired to create an Airship as a tribute to Graphic 45 featuring all of the amazing design collections to date
(and there are room for more!)
Description:
I wanted to do a project where I could create a statement piece to showcase all the wonderful Graphic 45® products while using my scraps from prior projects that are just too beautiful to recycle! The Airship is based on a simple design, but I was inspired to ramp up the design!
This fun Airship can be used as a statement piece or simply as a unique home décor piece! When finished, the Airship measures approximately 28″ Long x 32″ Wide (wing width) x 14″ High (excluding stand).
Graphic 45® Supplies:
1 sheet of DIY Craft Paper Architecture & Alphabet No.2 double-sided 19.5″ x 27″ sheets.
Artisan Style paper scraps from the 12″ x 12″ pad
1 sheets of Artisan Style Collection, Natural Beauty (4501110)
1 sheets of Artisan Style Collection, Creative Ideal (4501106)
1 sheets of Artisan Style Collection, Patterns of the Past (4501109)
Master Detective Collection paper scraps from the 12″ x 12″ pad
3 sheets of Master Detective Collection, Get a Clue! (4501564)
Gilded Lily Collection paper scraps from the 12″ x 12″ pad
4 sheets of Gilded Lily Collection, Gilded Lily (4501125)
3 sheets of Gilded Lily Collection, Creme de la Creme (4501127)
1 sheet of Gilded Lily Collection, Lavish Lifestyle (4501128)
Note: Graphic 45 Airship Banners created using Graphic 45 web site product images modified with Adobe Photoshop and Adobe Illustrator.
Additional Supplies:
Tim Holtz Idea-ology Collection – Advantus Vintage Design Tape (UPC: 040861933536)
KaiserCraft Factory 42 Collectibles Steampunk (CT88) paper gears
A 1/8″ x 36″ dowel rods
2 each 1/4″ x 12″ bamboo rods
Aluminum jewelry wire, 9# gauge, 0.2mm diameter in black, gold, red, and brown.
Thin black cotton sewing thread
Roll of 1/4″ x 6′ copper tubing (for the stand)
KaBlackout Papercraft Airship Template with great detailed instructions. Link
(I made several modifications and additions to ramp up the design!)
Tools, Adhesives & Ink:
Paper trimmer, scoring board, bone folder, ruler, craft knife, awl, detail scissors, scissors, ink pads, double-sided 1” tape, and Scotch QuickDry Adhesive.
Notes:
This is an Advanced Project and as such, you should allow plenty of time to enjoy assembling your very own Airship.
Don’t worry about matching my design, but feel free to use whatever papers you have on hand to make it your own.
Dimensions are width x height in inches unless noted.
Step-by-Step Directions: Let’s get started on this grand adventure!
I chose to use KaBlackout’s Papercraft Airship digital pattern to print on a variety of G45 papers.
Cut out all the shapes as per the directions from KaBlackout.
Scoring takes time but I prefer it to get crisp folds and joints.
Keep scoring…and don’t forget to have fun!
Begin assembling the individual rings. A highly sticky or tacky glue is a must.
Each ring is created from three pieces and then joined to the prior ring.
Ensure all glue joints and tabs are adhering firmly both inside and out.
Take your time to ensure the numbered tabs line up as per the instructions.
Once you get into the grove, assembly goes quickly.
I chose to deviate from the plans as I was inspired to ramp up the design!
I added a solid structure near the front center to support additional elements to be added later.
I used wire to wrap around the woods and then secured with paper to the inside of the Airship.
The tail section is a bit tricky, so practice the folding PRIOR to gluing.
I found it easier to build each of the four fins and then join them together.
I left the tail open on the tail to help with joining to the Airship.
I cut an opening to stuff the Airship. Rather than fill with paper (which will compress over time) I filled the airship with bubble wrap.
I stuffed the tail with small pieces of bubble wrap. I then closed the opening.
I closed up the opening on the bottom.
I applied a liberal amount of Mod Podge to seal the Airship and give it some strength.
Be sure to brush the Mod Podge in different directions to ensure you don’t miss anywhere. this is where the Airship plans stop.
I wanted to add several elements starting with propellers created using two shapes of paper with a piece of wire sandwiched between leaving a tail hanging out.
I then gathered all the fins with their wire tails to wrap around two metal rods.
The wire was held in place wit a decorative wire wrapped around.
I covered the metal rods completely to give it an coil look. I attached more wire at the bottom to attached to the Airship body and cover with paper.
I then used three different colored wires to create an “electrical coil” connecting the engines.
Next, I wanted to create wings to really give the Airship my own flair.
I cut down rods in a wing pattern and glued them between two layers of paper.
Allow the paper on the wing to dry before trimming to shape.
I continued with the second wing in the same manner.
I then created a top fin for fun.
I attached the wings to the rods I had put inside the Airship with wire.
Once connected, I covered the wire and rod with paper to hide the attached area.
Similarly, I mounted the top fin to the structure rod, but I left the rod exposed so it can move as if steering the Airship.
I chose to mount the wings with the “ribs” exposed for a cool look.
I ran sewing thread from the front spire to the back to look like it is supporting signs, banners, and flags.
I attached the wings with wires to the tail to also give the look of steering cables.
Now, it’s all about Graphic 45! I created a banner cut from the front of one of the 12″ x 12″ paper pads. I added ribbon on the bottom.
Using G45’s web images, I created banners for each of their product lines with Adobe Photoshop and Adobe Illustrator.
Detail of the banners. I matched the banner border colors with those found in the G45 theme.
I mounted the banners with foamy tape, but ran a string behind from nose to tail to look like it is holding them up.
I added black wire and cut Washi taps to create flags.
I tied off all the strings to the tail by creating a paper protrusion on the tail.
I continued adding banners with a string behind on a second row
On the other side, I continued adding the rest of the G45 product lines.
The banners are a tribute to all the amazing designs G45 has created to date. There’s room for more!
Using a thin marker, I added details on the Airship.
I added “rivets” and “flaps” on the tail.
I mounted the Airship to a role of copper tubing that maintains it’s shape to create a very unique stand! Once completed, it was onto the fun photo shoot outside!
Photo Shoot:
“We all have our time machines don’t we? Those that take us back
are memories and those that take us forward are dreams” – H.G. Wells
Onward for more fun!
Graphic 45 Inspired Paper Airship When I learned about the amazing opportunity to pour my passion for creativity into potentially becoming a Graphic 45 Brand Ambassador, I was inspired to create an Airship as a…
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Traces
ACT 1
Last Fall
He sat there on a bench in the cold morning air, nursing a cup of hot coffee. The park was surreal in the morning like it was from another world and how everything that any body did has a curtain mysticism that tugs on a chord deep inside you.
He lift the coffee to his fair face to fight off the cold and though it did little to fend it off, it comforted him none the less. It reminded him of warm hands that used to keep him warm. Of hands that fend of the cold and intertwines perfectly in between his fingers. Of vague figures in his head that he cant piece together. Of people from a past life that refuses to be forgotten. All of this kept him warm.
He sat there for an hour until a unknown feeling deep inside told him to go home, that he's waiting for nothing. But he told himself "just another hour". So he sat there, his coffee now cold from the morning air.
Then the tugging in his inner chords rang louder, telling him to go home. This time, he followed. He took a cigarette from his pocket, then a lighter. He cupped his hand and lit the cigarette, took a long puff and stood up. Leaves crushing beneath his feet, he leaves.
Volition
The walls reek of cigarettes and paint. Though the smell of moving boxes over powered it temporarily. Erick was in the middle of the clutter, sorting his clothes from books. Beside him is his phone and a Bluetooth speaker. It was playing Lua by Bright Eyes, the tempo set his speed as he sort the stuff into the boxes. He never realized how much stuff he had and how much clutter he accumulated over the years. Small trinkets from events, sample prints for posters he designed and random key chains as souvenirs that friends brought home. Some of them went to a separate box except for a chosen few.
In the middle of his packing a knock on the door came. "It's open" Erick said. A girl in her mid 20s came into the room, long hair, black rimmed glasses that framed her face perfectly and a black shirt that says "Pessimism".
"Malcom couldn't make it. He said he had to band practice." said the girl.
"It's so like him to ditch me, even for the last time." said Erick as he lowered the volume on the speakers. "Well atleast I have you to help me Yan."
"I'm only here for the free coffee you promised." She looked around the room and grabbed a marker, looked inside one of the boxes and labeled it "Shirts". "You don't have a lot of stuff do you?"
"Well graphic design doesn't pay well." said Erick. "Plus most of my money goes to a freakin Creative Suites account since the ad council has been strict with pirated softwares."
"That doesn't seem to stop you from buying cigarettes and coffee." Yan said as she taped some of the boxes. She proceed to another box and checked the inside of it. It was filled with art books and a paper that had an address on it. "Do you really want to go to New York?"
"Mom has always bugged me on moving there for so long. Might as well put my dual citizenship to good use right?" said Erick. "That and a couple of other reasons."
"Couple of reasons?"
"I'm not leaving just because of that, ok?"
"Well it did contribute the most. Didn't it?"
"Can we not get into right now?" Erick lit a cigarette. Yan went over to him and took the cigarette before he could puff another. She look a puff and sat in front of Erick. Erick took another and lit it up. "This is called running away." said Yan.
"No. This is called forgetting." said Erick before taking a puff.
"I've known you for so long, you're not one to forget." Yan stood up and returned to the boxes.
Erick blew a long smoke and whispered under his voice "I can try."
Yan's phone suddenly ran. Her ring tone was the bass riff of Seven Nation Army by The white stripes. She had a different ringtone for each person. "Yan, Malcom's calling." said Erick as he picked up his own phone. He changed the song to Seven Nation Army.
"Zup ditcher? Having fun not packing boxes?" said Yan as she put Malcom on speaker.
"Can totally feel your fun all the way here. Listen I'll make it up to you tonight, come over to the QX, Tracy called us up for a gig. Booze's on me."
"I rather have coffee man." said Erick without looking up from the boxes.
"I'll bring a bottle of Bailey's if that'll get you to come out." said Malcom from the speakers.
"Fuck." he whispered. "Fine, I'm in."
"Awesome, see you there." Said Malcom. Before Yan pressed the red button on her phone, "And Yan, don't bring Joshua, he's an asshole, bye." Then the call got cut off.
"You're still dating him?" said Erick.
Yan sighed and took a long puff as he took Erick's phone. "Well, we got back together. Malcom was so busy with his band and you're always zoned out since 'that' happened. Needed someone to talk to." Yan scrolled through Erick's playlist and changed it a Gising by Autotelic.
"But he's such a prick. So clean and organized. He's practically the complete opposite of me."
"That's the point." There was a long awkward silence.
They continued to pack with the music on the background. Suddenly it stopped. They didn't bother to check why it stopped. They continued in silence. The silence was unsettling especially on the 30th floor where the noise of the street below doesn't reach them. Just the sound of the wind and the occasional plane flying by.
Then in the middle of the silence, Yan started humming a familiar tune. A tune they both knew. It started slow with a single note dragging a few seconds then a few melodies entered. Erick stood up and lit a cigarette. Walked to the corner of the room where a digital piano lay on the floor. Yan didn't notice this so it took her by surprise when his fingers caressed the first note. She stopped for a moment and smiled and continued humming. And as the melody continues its crescendo, Yan started to sing:
We saw them coming from miles away,
With hearts on their faces and minds out of place.
So don’t give me a reason to stay
To be fooled by them and take my mind away
Because only in your heart, my mind is at bay.
Erick entered:
Steal your heart dear, I know you're at bay
For I am a fool for letting you stay
When the winds wants you what more can I say
But to look down on my feet and walk away
Erick stopped playing. "We should really finish writing that song." said Yan.
"I rather not." said Erick before continuing packing.
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