i've been watching a lot of european news lately for no good reason and it's kind of amazing to see the impact of some of Biden's climate change/clean energy stuff? Like it's kind of a global game-changer for how other countries (at least in europe) are viewing this industry?

A Curious Beginning

the pre-canon Campaign 1 Feeblemind!Percy AU I made out of pure self indulgence, inspired by @rainydaydecaf 's Feeblemind!Essek fics that I ADORE and you all should go read!!

here's the AO3 link if that's where you prefer to read!

thank you, comments and reblogs are always appreciated <3

***

The bar is relatively quiet and subdued after the day, in the aftermath of an attack on a small village people tend to stay inside their homes; spend time with families after the reminder that they could be snatched from this life in an instant. Leaves more drinks and seats for everybody else, so it’s a welcome side effect of the attack. The members of Vox Machina are slightly scattered, some with more energy than others.

Scanlan and Grog are up at the bar, chatting with the bartender. Pike is sitting several feet away, swinging her feet from her stool and watching her friends silently. Keyleth is sitting quietly right by Vex and Vax, who both find themselves in conversation with one of the few townsfolk who is in this bar at this time of night.

“We can’t leave until we find some more supplies,” Vax is saying to the man, a simple butcher who was a good enough conversationalist. Vex is half listening, the other half of her mind nearly falling asleep from the long day. She hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, spending most of it on watch and the other half tossing and turning for little reason whatsoever. She’s used to spending nights sleeping on the forest floor, but for some reason last night she just couldn’t get her mind to relax. “All our casters are tapped of spells for the time being and the rest of us managed to lose many of our weapons in the battle. We won’t be able to rest if we can’t defend ourselves.”

“The old prison might have a few blades lying around, maybe a crossbow or two.” the butcher says, a finger twisting a curl in his long, brown beard. “I know it was one of the first places to get attacked by those beasts and is still empty, all the guards were forced to leave without taking any of the valuables.” “And what of the prisoners?” Vax asks.

“Let free.” the butcher replies. “Gonna be difficult as hell to round ‘em all back up, but the prisons half collapsed. Roof caved in. You won’t need to worry about dealing with the prisoners, I’m sure there’s something useful in the rubble and in the parts that are still standing upright.” “Let’s do that,” Keyleth pipes up. “You lost your daggers, and Vex still has arrows but her bow got stolen.” “Don’t remind me.” Vex sighs, leaning her chin against the palm of her hand. It was ridiculous, they’re supposed to be the best fighters in all of Tal’dorei and they got caught off guard in the woods. First, by bandits, and then immediately after, a monster attack on the nearest village. It feels like the universe is playing tricks on them, taunting them, giving them victories but at what cost? “But Kiki’s right, we should scavenge what we can before shelling out the money to buy new weapons.”

“Always the frugal one, sister.” Vax says before standing and clapping his hands to get their friends' attention. “We need to have a quick talk, huddle up.”

It’s discussed quickly, many of them are eager to either get back to the bar or to bed. Not everybody needs to go to the prison, afterall, it’s not necessary that all of the crowd into a building that may or may not be unstable and cave in on all of them at any moment. But it’s decided that both the twins will go; Vax for obvious reasons, they wouldn’t be able to open a single locked door or safe without him. Vex will tag along as well.

“I want to make sure you all get the correct things, I don’t want you going without me and finding out you decided to only bring back daggers and whatever whiskey they have stored away.”

And finally, Keyleth volunteers despite not having any spells left, she does have a few cantrips that could be of use. Pike, Scanlan, and Grog all decide to stay behind, the latter two out of desire to remain at the bar, and the first because she has no healing left and would be in more danger than use. And also to make sure the others don’t get too rowdy, just in case. They don’t expect much out of an old prison used just as a holding place for criminals before trial. All of them doubt many of the prisoners from a rinky dink, dusty town like this would carry weapons more than bare minimum in quality. Better to go and come up empty handed rather than not go at all.

They set out into the night, given directions by the butcher to the outskirts of town, away from what little civilization there is out here. If you can even call a town as small as this one a civilization. The streets are quiet and all three half elves blend in with the shadows, though Keyleth stands out with her red hair and green clothing, but there is no imminent danger. The walk is quiet, with few words exchanged in the companionable silence. They reach the edge of the town and start walking through a wide field, the land quite flat and vast until it reaches the edge of a forest. They can see only very little, and the only indication of where they should be headed is the rise of a dark shadow in the vague shape of something that used to be a building.

Keyleth holds out her palm and a small ball of golden white light appears, casting a dim light around 40 feet around them. They can see, now, that the field is covered in old, dying grass and it is nice to know where they are stepping so as not to fall into a pit or step on a snake. They grow closer to the building, and with Keyleth’s light they can now make out the various features of the prison itself. At one point, it would’ve been a one story building, made of gray brick that still looks somewhat like it’s going to crumble. Now, one side of the building has collapsed, leaving a gaping hole that one could easily step through. It looks precarious, as if one flick could send the whole thing tumbling down.

“Well,” Vex says, her voice loud enough that it must travel across this open plain and back into the town. “Looks as if you don’t need to pick any locks.”

Vax chuckles and starts towards the building, Keyleth and Vex following close in his wake. They approach the gaping hole in the wall, inspecting the brick and the foundation for a moment before climbing through. Vax goes first, pulling one leg and then another over what is left of the wall between the inside and outside. One they’re all inside, they stand silent for a few moments. Keyleth’s light seems to grow brighter in this enclosed space, illuminating all of their faces and the rubble leftover from the attack earlier in the day. The place is a mess, but not so much of a mess that they can’t pick their way through this building until they find what appears to be the sheriff’s office. This door is locked, however, but Vax opens it easily enough.

“Rusty ass locks are no match against me.” he says with a grin before swinging the door open and letting them all inside. There isn’t much to find in this room, and in the drawers of the desk they find in the center of the office. Everything is either near bare or not of any use to them. Some writing utensils, papers, a smoking pipe, and other mundane things but that’s about it. Vex is about to throw in the towel when Keyleth lets out a yelp, not one of fear but of excitement. The twins turn their heads in her direction and watch as she drags a crate of some sort from under the floorboards.

“I heard a creaking and thought it sounded sort of hollow under the floor.” She explains as she strains to pull out the crate, Vax rushes towards her and helps place the wood box in the center of the office. It seems like it’s heavier than it looks, judging by how much effort both Vax and Keyleth have to put into carrying it. They pry it open and all three crowd over to get a good look inside, Keyleth holding her light closer to get a better look.

Vex grins. Inside is an array of items, but most importantly, weapons. Maybe not the best weapons around but it’s something. Vax immediately reaches in and pulls out one of the daggers, holding in his palm, feeling the weight. He nods to himself.

“They’ll do for now.” He does the same with another dagger that sits in the box, deeming this one suitable as well. There are no bows, sadly, though Vex had suspected that not many outlaws would be carrying around good quality bows. There is a shortsword and while it’s not her preferred weapon, it’s usable. She’d rather have a weapon she’s somewhat proficient in by her side rather than no weapon at all. She’ll go buy a new bow in the morning, though it will be grudgingly. She’d rather just hunt down those bandits but by now, they’ll be long gone and her bow will be on the black market. The thought makes her fume, even now, but she lets it go with a soft sigh.

There aren’t just weapons inside the box, some clothes are there as well. A few tunics, a couple pairs of boots, a long blue coat, a hat or two, even a pair of glasses. They leave all of it behind, for they have no need for it and perhaps the escaped prisoners will come back for their things one day. Vax is putting away his new daggers and Vex is turning back towards the door when Keyleth’s voice makes them both pause.

“Guys,” her voice comes out soft and confused, with a touch of fear. “What is this thing?”

Vex looks back towards her, her pale face is illuminated by her own light from below, the shadows creating a contrast on her pale skin. She looks almost deathly in this light, like her skeleton is starting to show on her outsides. And with how wide her eyes are, how blown the pupils are in the dim light, it is even more believable. Vex’s eyes are drawn away from Keyleth’s face when she lifts up some mechanism with a few careful fingers. It’s a metal thing, large but small enough to fit in one’s hands. The shape of it is… odd. Not like anything she’s ever seen before. If it was turned upright, it might look a little like a crossbow but even then, that’s pushing it. It’s nothing like anything Vex has ever seen, and judging by her brother’s face and Keyleth’s reaction, neither have they.

Vax reaches forward and gently takes it from her, Keyleth lets it go easily. He gingerly holds it, turning it over in his palm once, twice, and switches it to his other hand. “I- I don’t know. I’ve never…” Vex snatches from him, inspecting it in her own hands. The metal is cool to the touch, heavy but not so heavy that it strains against her wrists as she hands it in one hand. It’s obviously hand crafted, she can see where the metal was shaped, where the leather on the handle (or what she assumes is the handle) was hand sewn, how each embellishment was created with care. She has no idea what it is supposed to be, but no matter what, she’s intrigued and impressed by the craftsmanship.

“We should keep it.” she announces. “Whatever it is, I bet it’ll fetch a pretty penny. Never seen anything like it.”

“I don’t know, Vex.” Keyleth worries her bottom lip, looking apprehensive. “It’s just… I’ve got a bad feeling.”

“It’ll be fine, darling,” she assures her, tucking the thing safely into her belt. “It’ll be out of our hands in no time.”

They leave it at that, though Keyleth looks as if she wants to keep pushing the topic. There’s nothing else of value to bring back in this particular room, and they replace the top of the crate. They don’t put it back under the floor, though, choosing to leave it out in the open. There’s not much of a point of putting it away if somebody’s going to be scavenging through it anyways. They leave the sheriffs office with the door unlocked, the place is already in ruins there really isn’t a point in them trying to cover their tracks.

They walk down the narrow hallway, it’s relatively short too, and they don’t come across a door until the far end of it. It’s a small prison after all, and based on the size of it, probably not able to hold more than a dozen people and even then that might be crowded. The door at the end of the hallway is unlocked, and slightly ajar. Vax pushes it open, the light from Keyleth’s palm revealing a descending stairwell. Vex lets Keyleth pass first behind Vax before following in the back. The stairs are cold stone, damp and muddy and mossy in some patches. It’s disgusting, obviously a very old room, and smells of mildew and piss. Vex had forgotten what untended jails are like, not even a drop of care has gone into the creation of this place. She can see the walls are bare, the same stone as the floor. It’s like a stone box, closed in from every side, stifling and dark. It makes her pity those who end up in here, she knows that many of those who end up in these small town jails are just people whose crimes are petty theft or wrong place, wrong time. It is empty now, the cells separated by grimy metal bars completely bare.

“There’s not going to be anything down here.” Vex calls after her brother who is going to each cell and searching inside. “We might as well leave.”

“C’mon, help me look, Stubby, don’t you want to be thorough?”

“Oh, yes, of course, there’s going to be daggers just sitting around. It smells awful, Vax, let’s just-”

“Guys.”

Keyleth’s voice makes Vex stop her ramble, snapping her mouth shut at the tone she’s taking. A fake calm, gentle but gentle in the way you put on when trying to sooth an animal.

When no other addition comes, Vex moves towards where her friend stands. “What is it?”

All Keyleth does is lift the hand that isn’t alight and point towards the stairs. What they hadn’t noticed when descending them was that they are somewhat hollow, built in a strange way so that there is a hole between the stairs and the wall. Just large enough for a person to fit in, maybe stand if they were short enough or if they bent their neck. Now, when Keyleth is turned towards the hole, the light from her fist shining towards it, they can make out a huddled figure inside. Neither Keyleth nor Vex moves, they are frozen in place. Vex cannot make out who it is, what they are, or even get a good look at their figure, but the one thing she can figure out is that they are afraid. She can see their shaking form from here. The way their whole body moves in tremors. It makes her want to rush forward, to lay a hand on them and comfort in any way she can. But she cannot bring herself to move.

“Vax.” she says, under her breath. “Stay where you are.”

“Vex-”

“Just- stay.” she says, trying to command as much as she can through her tone. Her feet before she can even think about whether this figure could be dangerous, her strides take her almost five feet away from them before she even stops to think. She pauses, grips the handle of her new shortsword for a moment. She thinks about drawing it before deciding, ultimately, that there is something going on here with more nuance than just a monster in disguise or a criminal trying to fool her. She sinks down to sit on her ankles, motioning for Keyleth to come closer. She does, staying a few paces behind Vex but holds out the light to get a better look.

The figure flinches away, turning their face towards the wall. They’re obviously humanoid, if not just human, and curled on themself. She can’t seem to get a good look and scoots just a little closer. She knows that she’s being rash but there’s a pull in her stomach. Something that doesn’t feel right. Something that is making her reach forward and place two careful fingers on the edge of the hole in the wall.

“Hello.” her voice comes out soft, breathy. The person does not answer. If anything, they’ve only shrunken further away since Keyleth and Vex got closer. “Kiki, could you back away a bit?”

“I- alright. Vex… be careful.” she says, as the light fades slightly. Vex keeps her eyes on the subject before her, and the farther that Keyleth backs away, the more relaxed they seem to become. It’s not much, the shoulders are still bunched, the body still shakes, but at least now Vex can make out that it’s a human. A man. His face turns slightly her way and she can see, even now that the shoulders are stronger away from the light, that his eyes are wide, and bright blue.

“Hello.” she repeats. He looks at her, meets her gaze, and in this moment she knows. This man is not a danger. His gaze snaps from her face down to her waist where the shortsword hangs, recognition floods his eyes and he turns away again. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ll get rid of it.”

She removes it from her belt and tosses it aside, “see? Gone.”

This, also, seems to sooth him. She’s heard of afflictions like this before. This man looks to be younger than her, but not so young as to be acting like a terrified child. The sort of magical affliction that removes all logic, all knowledge, all language even, the cruelest act you can put on a person. The spell that takes away every ounce of their dignity. She cannot recall the name nor the cure but at least she knows what’s wrong with this man. And that a cure exists. The realization on her part comes early enough she knows to remove all weapons and things that could scare him. She hasn’t met somebody afflicted by this before but she knows how easily spooked they are. Treat them like you’d treat a scared child, a healer she knew had once said. She removes the strange metal weapon from her belt as well, tossing it aside with the sword. The man’s eyes follow this closely, eyebrows furrowed close together as his gaze tracks the contraption. His eyes stay locked on it, gaze more focused than she has seen him thus far. She has no other weapons now, and holds her hands towards him, palms up.

“Can you speak?” she asks quietly, already knowing the answer, but hoping anyway.

There is no reply.

He is still shaking, still terrified, and the quiet is starting to get to her. She wants to leave but cannot leave this man behind, not in this state. He reminds her too much of (however ridiculous it is) Trinket, and of herself, afraid and alone.

“Vex, what’s going on?” her brother’s voice breaks through the silence and she shushes him when the poor man flinches.

“It’s alright.” she soothes. His gaze, as soon as he relaxes again, finds the metal contraption on the floor. It’s the only thing that, when he focuses on it, makes his eyes seem alive, bright. It makes him seem present rather than stuck in a reality that does not make sense, one that can’t comprehend words other than the tone that goes along with them. There’s desire in those eyes, but desire that is held back by fear.

“Is that yours?” she asks, even though she knows he cannot answer. He can’t even understand the words she says, let alone formulate an answer. But she goes to the contraption anyway, scooping it up and placing it before him. Close enough that he doesn’t have to move any closer to her in order to pick it up. He grabs it tentatively, as if he, too, isn’t quite sure what it is but recognizes it nonetheless. He holds it carefully, but in a way that clearly says he has done this before. He looks at it with admiration, almost with love. How strange it is to see a grown man cradling some mechanical object like a plaything, like a comfort toy. He relaxes much more, now that he has the weapon in his possession. Which should worry her, but to be honest, she is quite sure she could single handedly take him out in this state, even if he was armed and she was weaponless.

Now that he is facing her, she can get a better look at him. His face and hair and body is covered in dirt and grime, as if he’s been rolled in mud and dust and then was thrown down in this dungeon. But even under the grime she can see that he is young, maybe a couple years above his teen years but still. His eyes are that striking blue. Hair matted and so dirty she can’t make out the color or texture. It’s like he’s been down here forever. His clothes are the same, once they might’ve been of good quality but now are ripped and dirty and in dire need of a wash. Or even better, just being burned and replaced. Something fierce rises in her throat, something instinctual that tells her that he has been wronged. She doesn’t even know his name, but there are very few people in the world who deserve to have every means of communication and reality stripped from them. Very few people deserve to have their mind taken away and then in addition to that, locked in the dark and the cold. Who knows the last time he saw the sun.

That settles it for her.

“Darling,” she keeps her voice soft, knowing that the only way he can judge people is based on the sound of their voice. His head lifts a little, face turning slightly towards her so at least she knows he’s listening. She holds out a hand, gesturing towards her, hoping that he’ll get the idea. “Come here. We can go. We can get you out. Please.” “Vex, what the hell are you doing?”

She ignores her brother's words, pursing her lips as the man in front of her makes a whimpering sound at the harsh sound of Vax’s voice.

“It’s alright.” she coos. She wishes she had Scanlan here to cast Friends or something but all she can do is just try to get him out of here based purely on trust. It’s apparent that in this state, and probably out of it as well, he is not quick to lay his trust out in the open. It takes a long time, a long time in which she has to continually shut up her brother and sometimes even Keyleth, though they both mean well. She coaxes him out of the hole in the wall, spending minutes on minutes getting him more comfortable with her being close. She doesn’t know why she is putting this much effort in, if anything, it should be Keyleth who is pushing so hard to save some random civilian in danger. But she will not let herself leave him behind.

She beams at him when he stands, nearly falling on unsteady feet, but regains his balance after a moment. “Good job, darling. Now, up the stairs.”

She guides him to the front of the stairwell, lightly brushing a hand on his back as a way of getting him there. Barely a touch, barely even a brush, but he still tries to twist away with a whimper in his throat. She hates having to cause distress like that, but it’s the only way she can get him to go the right way. Otherwise, he’d just wander away or sit back down on the floor. She pauses at the first step, wondering how she’s supposed to help him up. But (thank the gods) his muscle memory still seems to be intact and he climbs the stairs easily enough, though stumbling here and there.

From behind her, she hears her brother's voice, now soft. “Stubby-”

“I don’t want to hear it, brother.” she whispers back. They all reach the top of the stairs and Vex grins at the man. “Well done, darling!” Something in his eyes brightens at the delight in her voice and he leans in a little towards her, his lips quirking up slightly in what looks like it could be a smile. He’s still cradling the weapon tightly to his chest, squeezing it like a lifeline. As soon as she turns away from him, though, she’s faced with Vax’s face, serious and stone hard.

“Keyleth, watch… him, please. Make sure he doesn’t run off.” and she grabs Vax’s arm and walks him down the hall, back into the sheriff's office. She closes the door behind her a little harder than necessary, already knowing what’s going to come out of his mouth.

“Vex, you know this is a bad idea-”

“I know what you’re going to say-” They both cut off at the same time, sending each other equally heated glares. Vax takes the initiative and keeps going, she listens as she crosses her arms over her chest. They’re both stubborn as hell, and in this she has already decided that she’s going to win.

“We can’t just go around picking up strays, Stubby.” he says, voice lowered and even despite the obvious frustration showing on his face. “That guy out there could be dangerous. Who knows how he ended up in this place!” “He was left behind, Vax. In a crumbling building. It’s a miracle he didn’t get trapped down there, or we came a day or two later and he was dead from dehydration. How can you want to leave him behind, when he’s- when he’s so vulnerable.” She can’t explain why she’s so passionate about this, but there is not a world in which she can imagine herself leaving behind this man in that prison. She is not known for being the morally strong one of their group but her mind will not let it go. Seeing him curled up like that, so weak, so vulnerable, so open to an attack… it’s not alright.

“I’m just saying maybe there’s a reason he was left behind, alright?” Vax says, running a hand through his hair.

“Somebody hurt him.” She snaps. “Somebody did this to him and I would hope that if the same was done for me, you’d hope a stranger would help me.” “What is up with you?” He asks, his voice strangled and frustrated. “Why are you deciding that now is the time you’ll try to be like Kiki?”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing.” “You know what I mean.” She groans, “I’m not leaving him behind, Vax. Believe it or not, I do have a heart.” “I’m gonna need a little more proof before I believe that.” she punches him in the shoulder (hard enough to hurt a bit, but not too hard. She still loves her brother) before opening the door back to the hallway. She lets Vax through before turning back to look at the crate. She remembers all the clothes that are sitting on the bottom of the crate, and then remembers how dirty their new addition’s clothes are. Probably for the best that he gets a new shirt or maybe more.

She leaves the door open and makes her way back down the hallway, where it is no longer light and Keyleth stands awkwardly. Their new companion shifts from foot to foot, she can see his head twisting around in the dark, as if searching for something or someone. As she approaches, his head turns towards the sound of her footsteps. She can see his eyes even in the dark and sees how they relax just slightly at the sight of her. He starts walking, stopping a few feet in front of her and letting her close the distance until they’re nearly shoulder to shoulder. It’s odd that he’s so much taller than she is. It feels as if it shouldn’t be like that, when he’s so childlike and hunched over. But if he were to stand to his full height with proper posture and all, he’d be a head taller than her, maybe more.

“I think he’s imprinted on you, Vex.” Vax quips from a few feet away. She ignores him pointedly.

“He got scared of the light,” Keyleth explains. “So I put it out. I think now that you’re back I could start it back up though, he feels… safer with you.” “Yeah,” Vex nods to Keyleth and she opens her palm to make Light again. “I think we should get him some clothes, then leave.” She doesn’t turn to look at Vax, she knows her brother well and she knows exactly how much of an apprehensive, disbelieving expression he will have on his face. She leads them down the hallway and back into the sheriff's office where she immediately goes back to the crate, removes the top, and starts pawing through it. The man (should she call him a boy? He’s barely a man) leans over and watches her move things around, looking for clothing that might fit him. He’s thin, leaner than Vax even and most shirts look like they’d be large on him. As she’s doing this, he leans forward farther and grabs a bunch of fabric in his fist, pulling up what looks like a large blue coat. His expression brightens significantly, as he holds the garment out in front of him with one of his hands.

“Is that yours, darling?” Vex asks, and though he cannot possibly understand, he holds out the coat towards her, as if asking her to help him put it on. In his eagerness to pull it on, he even allows her to take the weapon from him, replacing it at her belt for the time being. She takes the coat from him and holds it out in front of her with both hands, it’s navy blue, made of good material if a little dirty, with buttons that are still shiny and pockets that still appear to be laden with small trinkets and the sort. In the last moment before helping him into it, she has the foresight to check the neckline for any indication of where it might have come from, as many garments had stamps from where they were made. But there were no stamps or tags of any kind, just one word, neatly hand stitched into the collar.

Percival.

“Huh.” she says aloud. She looks up into the boy’s blue eyes. “Percival?” Even if he does not know his name, it is obvious that this sparks at least a feeling of some sort. He sways on the spot, his eyes getting that brightness again. He makes a sound, low in his throat, not a whimper like he had before, but one that sounds closer to being content.

“We’ll call you that then.” she decides as she repeats it in her mind. Percival. Percival. Turns it over in her head, remembering how it felt on her tongue. Percival. She tries to seek out any familiarity in it, tries to remember if they’ve met before to give herself a reason for caring for him so much in his vulnerability when she could’ve easily left him to fend for himself. She comes up with nothing. Now, with his coat on, he looks much more regal, more like a grown person rather than a child. It sounds ridiculous to say since she does not know him but he looks more like himself. He looks happier with that coat on, even twists side to side to watch the bottom of the coat flap around.

Before putting on the coat, she chooses a few other garments out of the crate. A white (or what was once white) button up shirt. A pair of pants. And upon realizing he’s barefoot, she grabs boots and socks from the bottom of the crate and tucks them under her arm along with the other clothing. He’s still watching her, staying close. Maybe Vax is right and he has imprinted on her in some way, the same way a duckling imprints on the first animal that it sees after being hatched. She might’ve been the first person to show him kindness after being reduced to this mindspace. She can’t bear the thought of leaving him even more now. Perhaps she’s become a bit irrationally attached the same way he has to her, but she’ll let it go. He’ll be healed and out of this spell in no time, and then she’ll be able to let it go.

It takes a ridiculous amount of time to get the socks and boots onto Percival, but she does it, with not much help from him at all. She’ll wait on the other clothes, on the most likely false hope that Pike will be able to magically fix him as soon as they get back into town.

Before they can head out though, Percival reaches into the crate again. After rifling through it for a few moments, he pulls out the one pair of glasses that had sat at the bottom. It’s a damn miracle they didn’t shatter.

“Yours, too?” she asks, taking them from him and reaching up to place them on his nose. Again, this makes him look that much more right. Judging from the brightness that enters his expression again, this is good. Perhaps he’d been half blind without them.

“Alright, let’s go then.” Keyleth and Vax are suspiciously quiet as they leave the prison building, coming away with a lot more than they had anticipated when heading over here. She knows that Vax is angry with her and Keyleth… well, Keyleth cares about Vax. And about Vex too. Vex does not blame her for feeling conflicted when two of her family disagree like this, even if they are siblings who tend to disagree on the daily. Percival stays close, now trusting her seemingly implicitly. He is allowing her to touch him, gently of course, but she is able to hold the sleeve of his jacket and lead him through the field. He had allowed her to put on his boots, even let her lay a hand on his forearm for a moment. Out of the prison, he is more at ease, Keyleth’s light doesn’t seem to bother him so much. It’s a relief to see that he has stopped shaking so much out of fear, only does he tremble when there’s an unexpected sound or anybody besides Vex gets too close.

They make it back to the town and Percival moves closer to her, choosing between two evils: close contact with Vex or having to be without comfort in the new environment of the town. He flinches at every passerby (even though there are very few at this time of night), jumps at every sound, even sometimes his own footsteps. So he presses himself to her side, holding his weapon with one hand and bunching up the fabric of her jacket with his other. She allows it, trying to soothe as best as she knows how as they make their way back to the tavern.

They reach the front of the tavern, it looks nearly empty now but vex still worries that it’ll be too much for Percival to go in. She can’t exactly leave him outside by himself though, and she doesn’t trust Vax to recount the story of finding him truthfully. So he comes in with them. He takes these steps with relative ease and follows her through the door without hesitation. He shrinks back in on himself, though, when as soon as they enter Grog and Scanlan shoot up from their seats upon recognizing the three half elves. They stop moving towards them, however, when they see the fourth person who arrives with them when they had left the tavern with three.

Surprisingly, Pike is the first to reach them, as if sensing something is off. Percival steps back, looking back towards the door. Vex holds onto his sleeve, keeping him from running when he quite obviously wants to.

“Sorry, dear, you’ve got to stay.” She turns back to Pike. “Long story, but I need you to fix him. I don’t know what it is exactly that’s wrong but I’d hoped you might.” Pike nods, expression resolute. “Let’s go to a back room, come on.”

Vex manages to coax Percival along, following Pike out of the main tavern and into a washroom of some sort. There are candles and things keeping the place bright enough to see, the glow golden and making Pike’s white hair look more yellow. In this enclosed space, Percival seems far more nervous, more like he was when they first found him. Hands shaking, head twisting side to side to try and look at all of his surroundings at once. Vex pats his hand gently, doing her best to help while knowing that the only way to help him, truly, is to heal this spell.

Vex recconts everything wrong with Percival to Pike, who listens in her usual comfortable silence. How he cannot speak, can’t understand a thing they say, his fear, his childlike demeanor. She nods along and after just a few minutes of speaking, she interrupts Vex.

“Feeblemind.” As soon as Pike says it, the connection makes sense. It was just at the back of her mind, an itch she couldn’t understand. She hasn’t interacted with Feeblemind before but from what she has heard, it’s exactly as painful and terrible as she’s heard.

“I don’t have the magic to fix it.” Vex’s shoulders sag at the words, what are they supposed to do? “I’m sure other healers do, we can ask around but I can’t fix him.” “What do we do?” Vex asks, rubbing her face with both of hands. “He can’t exactly take care of himself right now. It’s Feeblemind. The whole point of it is that it takes away all capabilities. I just… gods-” She feels a soft nudge on her shoulder and looks away to see Percival looking at her, blue eyes wide and… there’s concern there, isn’t there? Real, genuine concern. She bites the inside of her cheek, a little perturbed by that fact. That’s the nature of this spell, isn’t it? It makes you less trustworthy but it also has made him put so much trust in her, the person looking out for him, the one who has shown him kindness. He’s making assumptions based on the first thing people do. Vax, and his sharp words. Keyleth, and her magic. Vex, and her gentleness around him. She swallows thickly, the knowledge heavy.

“I’m alright, dear, just tired.” The look on her face must suffice as he leans away and continues watching Pike warily.

“I know,” Pike says. “There’s nothing we can do tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll ask about a healer. But for now, all we can do is watch him and make sure he doesn’t hurt himself. Maybe give him a bath.” Vex turns to look at Percival, at his grime covered face, at his wide eyes, and the openness on his face when he looks at her. What has she gotten them into?

“Alright.” she sighs. “Let’s go break the news to Vax, hm?”

***

Vax, surprisingly, hadn’t been surprised. He’d simply looked at her knowingly, took a gulp from Scanlan’s drink and audibly sighed. “I’m going to bed.”

When he was gone, Scanlan laughed. “First, Trinket. Now, a full grown man. What’s next? You’re working your way up rather quickly.” She had simply rolled her eyes and not replied, ordered a hot bath in her room, and left before Percival had a panic attack right out in the front room. It hadn’t occurred to her how raucous all of Vox Machina could be when they were in one room, people trying to talk at the same time, laughter as loud as a shout. It was not the correct environment for the Feebleminded, so they left after just a few minutes. Up the stairs, winding through the hallway until they reach her room on the second floor. She opens the door and lets him inside, follows quickly while shutting and locking the door. She drops the clothes she’d brought for him on the floor in a messy pile, and looks back towards Percival. He’s gazing around, taking in the room in its entirety. Quite neat, since she hasn’t yet stayed there for a night. The desk empty except for an empty notebook and a pen. The bed made and the pillows fluffed. There’s a tub in the middle of the room, filled with steaming water.

“You’re covered in dirt.” she says, as a way of explanation even though he couldn’t understand. She feels better giving an explanation, despite it not even counting. She’s torn between two sides of her mind. One side, concerned that he can’t consent to anything in this state, that his mind is that of a toddlers. The other side can’t bear the idea of him sitting and sleeping covered in dirt and mud and what looks like it might be blood. In the end, the latter side wins out and she goes about trying to do this while touching him as little as possible. But she finds that as more time goes on, the more willing he is to let her come near him. His allowances had started as just the occasional brush with fabric between them, and now, not much later in the night, he is letting her slide his jacket off his shoulders, unbutton his shirt. She pushes the thought of “why?” away. This trust isn’t real, and it shouldn’t unnerve her.

She gets it done as soon as possible, stripping him to his bottom layers but leaving on any undergarments. Better to leave some sense of dignity for when he wakes from this state. She does not know the specifics of the spell but she does remember the subject tends to keep most of their memories. He’ll remember exactly how trusting he was, how willing he was, how afraid he was. He’ll remember it all in excruciating detail. She guides him to step into the tub, crouching by the edge as he lowers himself down into the steaming water.

She snatches a rag and a bar of soap from where they were left on the floor beside the tub, holds it in front of herself for a moment. Shs shakes her head, if he couldn’t put on boots by himself, he sure as hell can’t wash himself.

Moving as quick as she can without startling Percival, she removes her coat and rolls her sleeves up past her elbows. He’s looking at her again, and this time, she avoids his eyes. Why? She isn’t quite sure but everything about this feels wrong. She knows that if she were in his position, she would want somebody to clean her but how is she to know if he would want the same. It doesn’t feel right. She pushes away the thought once again, apologizing out loud as she wets the washcloth and lathers the bar of soap against it.

He just watches.

She gathers so many small details about him from this interaction. As she cleans his skin, she finds that under the grime, he is porcelain pale. Paler than her and Vax, the kind of pale that shines under light and seems to glow in the dark. But on that pale skin are a multitude of scars. At first, she writes the scars off as just accidents, maybe from childhood, maybe from the hazard of whatever his occupation is. But the more she finds, the less she is able to write them off. When she reaches his chest, she swallows, averting her eyes. Covered in scars. Same on his back. She washes them clean, trying to ignore their presence but she finds herself tracking them. Keeping track of where they are clustered on his body. Most of the more severe ones reside on his chest and back. But she finds many others scattered around. She tries not to dwell too much.

As she’s finishing with his body, she carefully scoops water in her hands and pours it over his head, trying to avoid his face. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to mind when water trickles down his face, though Vex makes sure to take his glasses. She continues with that process, finding that his hair is much more coated in mud and dirt than what she had originally thought. It’s coated, matted, definitely intentionally so. Like somebody, perhaps Percival himself, had covered the original color in an attempt to disguise himself. As she works to clean off the dried mud, she finds the strangest thing. The hair underneath isn’t brown as she’d originally thought, nor is it blonde, or even red, it’s white. Shock white. Sea shell white. She frowns as the color starts to appear more clearly, the mud finally coming loose. White.

The more she interacts with Percival, the more strange he seems. The hair. The scars. The odd weapon. The more she’s becoming worried, for him and for herself. But he cannot provide an explanation, so she doesn’t ask. Simply continues cleaning him up until the water is cloudy but his hair is white as a lily and his body is scrubbed clean.

She helps him, dripping, out of the tub and wraps a towel around his shoulders. He’s still looking at her, silent and eager. She guides him over to the fireplace, sits him down in front of the fire to dry off before she helps him dress. She’s tired, and just wants this to be over. Just wants to stop feeling guilty for making this man trust him in his most vulnerable state.

She sits on the bed, watching him quietly. It’s been a long day and she just wants to rest but can’t until he falls asleep. She has to make sure he doesn’t go anywhere. Then again, the door is locked and he definitely doesn’t know how locks work. If she leaves him be, she’s sure he’ll fall asleep soon enough but she should watch him, right? She’s feeling more and more like a babysitter. That’s really what she is at this point, isn’t it. He trusts no one else. He looks to her like a guardian. She sighs, letting her eyes flutter closed. She should stay awake. She should stay-

When she opens her eyes, the sun is streaming through the window. The early morning sun rays cast a gray-yellow light over her entire room. She shoots to her feet, blinking her eyes rapidly as everything starts to come into focus. Dammit. She knew she shouldn’t have let herself fall asleep, he could have burned himself on the fire, he could’ve figured out the lock, could’ve opened the window, could’ve-

Her eyes come into focus and see the figure lying in front of the dying embers of the fire, exactly where she left him last night. He’s curled up in front of the fireplace, his weapon loosely held in his hand, head tucked against his elbow. She lets out a sigh of relief. What a babysitter she’d be, if she lost the person she’s supposed to be watching on the first night. Hopefully, last night. She goes over to Percival and gently prods his bare shoulder where the towel has slipped away. Guilt pangs in her chest, he’s still undressed. It’s a good thing it isn’t cold at night this time of year or he might’ve gotten sick.

“Percival.” she murmurs. “Come on, it’s time to get you healed.”

His eyes flutter open, confusion first and then are overtaken by relief at the sight of her. She smiles back at him, happy that he’s happy. He looks better today, cleaner for one, and stronger too. Less afraid. But maybe that’s just because he’s alone and it’s quiet.

“Let’s get you dressed.” she says, helping him up. She grabs the clothing off the floor and shakes it to get rid of what dirt and dust settled on it overnight. First, she struggles to help him into the pants, but gets it done as fast as possible. She’s never really done this before and finds it a tad ridiculous to struggle so but moves on from her embarrassment quickly. It’s not his fault he can’t do it himself. Next, the shirt. This is easier. The buttons take awhile to finesse, her fingers are clumsier when trying to do them on somebody else but soon he’s all dressed, coat on his shoulders, glasses on his nose.

“Very refined.” she says with a smile.

He just beams back at her, his hair even whiter in the daylight. She wants more than anything for him to be out of this Feeblemind. She leads him out the door and through the hall, winding her way downstairs until she gets to the main part of the tavern where she’s surprised to find many of her party already there. All they’re missing is Vax. Percival stays close to her side, especially now that there are more than just the other members of Vox Machina in the bar area. But she was right, this morning he has calmed slightly. Whereas last night he would’ve broken down completely from all of the different senses being used, and the amount of people around, he is now just shakily holding onto her arm and staying immeasurably close.

“Your little friend cleans up nice.” Grog says, looking at them both. Percival shrinks back from his huge form, understandably so. Grog is not exactly palatable to those who are especially fearful.

“I talked to the bartender,” Pike pipes up from a stool at the bar. “He says that the healer further in town could take care of him.” “Wonderful.” Vex sighs. “We’ll head there right away. I think it’s better if not all of us go, but I don’t want to go by myself just in case anything goes wrong, familiar faces to him maybe. Keyleth? Pike?”

Both women agree to go, and with a promise of a breakfast for Vex and Percival when they get back, they’re about ready to go.

“Oh, before I leave,” Vex says. “Where’s my brother? He’s usually up by now.” “He’s sulking.” Grog answers. “Something about you, I’m pretty sure. He’s quiet and broody when he’s upset with you.” “Yes, I know.” she grimaces, before walking with Keyleth, Pike, and Percival out of the tavern and out onto the bustling street. Percival huddles against her shoulder, even closer than he was yesterday. Pike has the directions to the healer’s home, she says according to the bartender it’s close enough to walk. Which should be a relief, but Percival significantly slows their pace. He stumbles at the cobblestones, flinches at every passerby, struggles against Vex’s grip when people get too close. She wishes she didn’t have to hold him so close, it feels like a violation of some sort, but if she didn’t, it’s apparent he would break away from them, go hide in the dark the way he was in the prison. He seeks out solace in Vex and Vex alone, everything seems to cause him to flinch, to whimper, to cry out. It pains her to put anyone through this, but finally, they reach the healer’s home. It looks suspiciously like a normal building, made of red brick and with a large oak wood door. Pike saunters up to that door, raising her little hand to knock on the door. There’s a long pause, before the door swings open and they’re faced by an old, elvish woman wearing a nightgown.

“What in hells are you doing here?” The woman's voice is scratchy, her hair gray and frizzy. Knowing how slowly elves age, she must be hundreds of years old in order to appear as if could keel over at any moment. Her nightgown also appears to be old, worn and ripping in places. Vex suddenly has a little less faith that this healer will be able to cure Percival.

“Uh- we’re here for some help.” Pike’s voice is soft, as it usually is. “Our friend is in need of some assistance.”

The woman narrows her eyes at Keyleth, Vex, and Percival, before pointing a long finger at Percival. He shrinks even farther back from them, he’s by far the tallest person in this group, counting the elf woman, but he doesn’t seem like it when he’s bunching up his shoulders, trying to appear as small as possible.

“That one.” she says.

“Yes.” Vex says. “It’s Feeblemind. Can you fix him?”

The woman sniffs, then gestures for them to follow as she turns around and walks on unsteady feet back into the house. For some reason Vex thought a healer, no matter how old, would appear a little less… sickly. But they all follow her inside anyway. The home is small, even more so from the inside, every surface is cluttered and the walls are covered top to bottom in shelves. Some of which are filled with books, but many of which are just laden with trinkets and baubles and other small colorful things. The whole place smells like chamomile, herbs waft from every direction, the combination of smells seems like it should be overwhelming in the sheer quantity of it but it’s actually a quite calming mixture. It seems to put them all at ease; Percival’s shoulders relax slightly, Keyleth clutches her staff a little less tightly. They follow the elf through her home and into the farthest room down the hall, a kitchenette of sorts. It’s very small, containing only a small dining table that could seat two, maybe three people, a stove with a kettle on it, and several shelves, some of which have silverware and dishes in them. The woman is already pouring them tea.

“Uh- what’s your name, miss?” Keyleth asks.

“Lyth.” the woman answers, passing out little teacups and saucers, sloshing some of the tea in the process. The water was obviously not hot enough, so in all of their hands, they’re holding lukewarm cups of weak tea that no one wants to drink. Keyleth takes a few polite sips before placing it back on the table.

“So,” Vex says after a few beats of silence. “You can fix Percival?”

“What? Oh yes.” she waves a hand absently, as if it’s not important at all at this moment.

“Well, then do it.” she puts her little teacup down on the table a little harder than necessary, splashing warm water over her hand and onto the saucer. “That’s why we came here, we don’t need tea.” Lyth grumbles under her breath, Vex only catches a few words but she can piece together to be something about “no manners” and “young people”. She chooses to ignore it. “Yes, yes, stand please.”

Vex begins to stand up before Lyth pushes her back down into her chair roughly by the shoulders, “not you, him!” Mouth agape, Vex twists around to look at Percival, who is shrinking away with the woman, especially after seeing her put hands on Vex and the sound of her voice. “It’s okay, dear, just let her.”

He meets her eyes and she nods, this moment between them where he isn’t paying attention gives Lyth enough time to place her hands on his chest. Percival jerks roughly, trying to pull away as hard as he can, but Lyth is surprisingly strong, managing to keep him in place as the spell starts to work its way through his body. Golden light emits from her hands, spreading through him starting with his chest and then going up to his neck, to his arms, to the very tips of his fingers. For half a second, he is completely aglow before the spell dissipates in a puff of golden mist.

There is silence, silence, silence, before Lyth steps away, and says, “who’s paying me then?”

“Uh, we will. Come on, Kiki.” Pike takes Keyleth's hand and follows Lyth out of the room. The sentiment is clear, Vex had been the one that had been trusted, she had been the one he had clung to, and she is probably the one he would want to speak to first out of his Feebleminded state.

“Hello.” she says, turning her body completely towards him. He’s still got his head ducked, chest rising and falling rather quickly. As she waits, she lets her gaze wander from where his face will appear to the rest of him. His body language has immediately changed. His fist is clenched under the table. His shoulders aren’t bunched but neither are they relaxed, they’re stiff, held tight to give the illusion of relaxation. He keeps his feet flat on the floor, whereas the Feebleminded Percival would often tuck his feet under himself, or hook his feet behind the chair legs. He’s… different. She takes all of this in, gaze searching him and then returning to his face, in just a moment or two. And it only takes that long for him to lift his face and look at her.

He licks his lips, and she waits in anticipation. “Hello.”

She can’t help but let a smile bleed through. His voice is… what is she to say, it’s his voice. It matches everything about him in a way she cannot explain. It just does.

She holds out a hand. “I’m Vex’ahlia.”

He finally meets her eyes. Those blue eyes… they’re different now. They’re colder. Far, far removed from the trusting openness she has experienced for the past twelve hours. Gods, has it only been twelve hours? It felt like days. She couldn’t have expected him to be the same, of course, Feeblemind reduces you to something that is not yourself, you are not under control of yourself nor your emotions. He is not the same. But it still causes her a little pain to immediately see that he no longer trusts her, even if she expected it. She will just have to try to earn it again.

“Percival.” he takes her hand, she notes right away that his palms are rough, calloused. Another strange detail. “You can call me Percy.” “Percy.” she repeats. “It’s nice to meet you, Percy.”

He nods. “It’s good to meet you, too.”

It’s a good thing, she thinks, to act as if this is their first meeting. Because in the end, the Percival she had interacted with was not the real one. Just a watered down, cursed version.

They both open their mouths to speak at the same time, Vex snaps hers shut, gesturing for him to continue.

“I- uh- thank you.” he says, voice quiet and hesitant. As if he doesn’t know how to do this. “For all that you did while I was… you were good to me and I thank you. I don’t think I can properly express my gratitude.”

“You’re very welcome.” she says with a nod. “It was my pleasure.”

He gives a half smile to her, his expression guarded and removed. It’d be a lie if she said that it doesn’t sadden her that he’s suddenly so far away but she lets it go, lets the sadness drift away in a moment. It does not and should not matter what she is feeling, when he was under such a spell.

“Who did that to you?” she asks finally, the question that’s been bouncing around in her mind since finding him in that prison. “How did you find yourself in such a situation?”

Percy hums under his breath, eyes wandering as he seems to be thinking. “It was my own fault, I was careless. And I won’t allow it to happen again. That’s all that really needs to be said.”

Vex would beg to differ but she already suspects this is an argument which she cannot win, that she shouldn’t even try to engage for there would be no point to it. He has already been so exposed to her, physically and emotionally, he deserves this autonomy and dignity. He can close himself off to her, to everyone, she doesn’t care.

“Thank you for keeping my gun.” Percy's voice cuts through her thoughts, she follows his hand to where it’s resting on his waist. Right over the metal contraption. He touches it with the same comfort he had when under the Feeblemind, she had been right, it’s obviously important to him. Something he touches when he’s unsure of where to put his hands. Something he holds for comfort. That all transfers over from Percival to Percy.

“Ah, that’s what it’s called, then.” she says, eyeing it from her seat. “I wondered… what is it exactly?”

He taps the handle of the gun absently. “It’s- difficult to explain. Think of it like a bow and arrow, but more… mechanical. Compact. You’ll get a demonstration someday, I’m sure.”

That doesn’t help her but she nods along, and eventually she rises, “we should head back to the tavern.”

“I-” he hesitates to stand, she can understand why. He was never meant to come into town, he was never meant to meet Vox Machina. Them and him could’ve easily missed each other in every other reality, but now their lives have collided in a way that has entangled them together and Vex is not sure how to disentangle it. Or if she even wants to.

“Come have a drink with us, darling.” she finds herself saying. “Just one. Then you can get us out of your hair.”

This decision of his, this agreement to one (just one!) drink is probably the one that damned him. One drink became many, one night became hundreds. It’s not his fault. The threads of their lives became so tangled and nobody ever seemed to try and untie the knots. They just let it happen. He never really realizes just how much he has let her become a part of him until she’s gone, and then returns. Until he goes, and then returns. Eventually, he comes clean. Eventually, he tells them exactly which evil woman gave him those scars, took away his mind, and locked him in a jail. Eventually, he learns to trust.

He tries to forget about the circumstances of their meeting. It’s difficult, as the other members of their party are often so insistent about teasing him. But he brushes it off, too embarrassed of how he acted, of how he presented himself with so little care. After a while, they have new memories to associate with him, new things to tease him about, that they seem to let go the way he was when they met. He doesn’t speak of it. Neither does Vex. at least not until it is years later. He’s sitting on a bed, on their bed, and it’s almost as if he comes to. As if he is waking up from a very, very long sleep.

“Vex?” “Hm, yes, dear?” she replies from where she is leaning over the desk that’s against the wall of their room in Whitestone. In his home. She’s scribbling at papers, sorting out some last minute numbers before bed. She’s dressed in a nightgown, her hair loose and falling over her shoulders. She’s beautiful.

“Do you remember when we met?” she stops writing, freezing in place. They never really speak of it. Only when Ripley is a part of the conversation do they even think of it, and they never talk about Ripley either. It’s an unspoken rule. Percy doesn’t like to hear about it, to think about it, to speak of it.

“Of course.” she says finally, putting down her pen.

“And the way I was?” “Yes. You were Feebleminded.”

“And you helped me.” She doesn’t say anything for a long time, just leans back in her chair and looks at him. “I did.” “Why did you? Help me, I mean.”

This, too, takes a longer than normal amount of time to reply to. Vex is quick, silver tongued, and prides herself on being able to outwit anyone she comes up against. It says more than a lot that she is thinking about her answer with so much care, taking the time to arrange her words in her mind before speaking them aloud.

“It wasn't out of pity.” she finally says, slowly.

“Wonderful start, dear.” he says with a laugh.

“Oh, shush, I’m thinking.

“I was… I don’t know, truly, Percy. I think I was lonely. And something in me couldn’t let you go.” she pulls one of her knees up to her chest, leaning her cheek against it as she stares off into the distance as she speaks. “I thought about it then and I’ve thought about it ever since. My brother bothered me about it and I never came up with a sufficient answer. I saw you, and no matter what I did, I couldn’t turn my back on you.” “It wasn’t love at first sight, then?” “Percival, I’m trying to be sweet and you’re making this very difficult.” she stands and goes to him, places her hand on either side of his face. She smiles down at him, and in this moment, as he thinks about what she had said, he understands. Never, in any life, can he imagine leaving her to the wolves, turning his back on her. Even if his memory was wiped clean, if they did not know each other, he wants to believe he’d do the same. Now, years later, he still remembers what it was like being under the Feeblemind. Fear. Lights everywhere. Voices ten times louder than they’d usually be. It was a sensory assault from every direction, and he was so scared. Everything hurt and all he wanted was to crawl into the dark even though that scared him too. But there, in the center of it all, was Vex. A calm in the storm. The only reason he crawled out of the dark. The only reason he removed his mask.

“You’ve got a strange look.” Vex comments, her thumbs brush under his eyes softly.

“I’m only thinking,” he says. “I love you, Vex.”

She smiles, a warm smile that reaches all the way to her eyes. “I know. And I love you, Percy.”

She leans down to place a kiss on his forehead. And he thinks he has never been more awake before this moment. Maybe he has been half awake for as long as he can remember. Maybe his mind has still been addled by the Feeblemind until right now. He is whole, awake, alive, in love. It’s more than he had ever hoped for.

Lets Talk

She nursed a nice bruise on her face in the bathroom, one that bloomed from her cheek to the top of her brow, extending a green fingertip to her cheek to heal it slowly, hopefully bringing back some natural skin tone to her cheek again.

 A normal practice for treating her wounds all her life, all while keeping herself awake and conscious with an energy drink that was half empty and the ever present feeling of anticipation. The source of anticipation lingering on that phone beside her, a burner phone she bought at the beginning of the day.

Chiaki's eyes flickered to her burner phone right next to her, waiting for a reply from a face shed only met during a fight earlier that morning with her father. 

Heroes against Villains, that old fight that will seemingly never ever cease, she cant remember why the incident happened but she just knew that she and her father were first responders along with a handful of other heroes.

 She inspects the faded mark on her face and closes the door to the bathroom, quietly as to not wake her mother who had tried to quell her worried eldest daughter, Aoi had retired to bed about an hour ago… the media had picked up on the travesty of a fight that happened earlier that day. Causing a nasty uproar from civilians and the media alike.

It was everywhere, newspapers, radio stations, the internet and she can hear the newscaster announce it clearly. "Pro Hero Witch is in the Literal Hot Seat today, is she someone we need to keep an eye on? Her power was in full effect keeping a fifteen-story building from crushing her and her battered teammate, FullCharge. Who had beaten the negligent heroin enough to make her heal him, after she did this the building she was supporting fell upon her and 5 other civilian lives, after letting the villain come to know as Dabi escape-'' she turned off the tv sick and tired of hearing of how useless she’s been, the ensuing argument she had with her family left scars on her psyche she wouldn't bat an eyelash at, she couldn't care about her reputation when she let people die on her watch. 

Useless. Lazy. A joke. 

She let those 5 civilians die so callously, she didn't know them and yet she doesn't feel as bad, atleast not right now. Casualties are a norm for heros, right?

The icing on the cake was to hear the media call her that word negatively again. 

Witch… 

A name she used to take her power back from a horrible nickname in her childhood. Now once again weighing on her like chains to the floor.

 She walked to bed holding the phone and lamenting, falling to her bed with a resounding flop.. It's her fault.. she let Dabi go, and everyone saw it.

 She let everyone down and even had her phone blown up by her friends. She turned her attention to the group chat and took a peek from behind the iron curtain of guilt. Bakugou's name was the first to catch her eye.

Bakugou: Chili. Hey dumbass answer us! We have been trying to call you all day and you leave us on read. Answer us goddammit! We don't want to confront you ourselves and see what your deal is but we will if you don't answer us for the rest of the night.

Midoriya: We will give you another 30 and we're coming over, we promise we're not going to gang up on you, Chili…That wouldn't be right. 

Chiaki: How can i trust that, you all saw my situation, no one did a damn thing to help me, i get im also the healer but that includes people defending me in order to heal at a distance or else I HAVE THE TARGET on me. I cant face any of you. 

Bakugou, Izuku, Shouto and more are typing…

She wept rubbing her eyes with her sleeve and making her tear up. Out of everyone… she assumed someone would understand but they all seemed to give her the same look, it made her heart stop. Once again she's the bad guy in a situation she lost control over. With guilt in her heart, she recalled the last moments before he got away. 

Dabi got her father off of her. No hesitation, blasted him clean off of her with enough force it could have singed her head to toe, but he didn’t. She went to get up and saw her father immolated in blue flames as she turned to see the same man she was sent to apprehend was standing fixed about 10 feet from her, his eyes trained solid on her. She looks up at the buildinh started to grown from the integrity being lost from the fight, it began to collapse down on them until she suspended it above the both of them, mere feet from his head; they stared at one another like deer in headlights. A sinister smirk spread across his features before disappearing from her view, in the kick up of dirt and rubble, 

Chiaki couldn’t bring herself to apprehend him. 

Why..? Did he see the desperation in her eyes or the fact that she barely had a leg to stand on when her own father took her down a size, when he saw insubordination over saving herself and not her father who was completely fine? Or was there another ulterior motive to keeping her alive?

Upon trying to close her eyes, and hopefully forget about this whole day.  

The burner phone buzzed to life. 

The screen could have been the brightest thing in the room, a beacon in the night beckoning her. Distant thunder rumbled to indicate the dire decision she's made, as well as a storm that was approaching.

 Her heart stopped, she lifted the phone slightly and slid her thumb over the screen. To see the text message from an unavailable number. 

“How is that eye feeling, Witch?” 

The text read, her fingers flew across the keyboard. 

“It’s been better, I fixed it up. Is this really Dabi?” upon sending the message the text came up as read. Is she really thinking of doing this… he messaged her back quickly. “Maybe I am, I have seen the news today and that shot of you and I standing before the building collapsed on us was cinematic so I have to give you props for that. I’m guessing the reason you wanted to speak to me was not make pleasantries and talk about our days.” 

“You want to join the League.” 

There it is. The question that lain heavily upon her mind. Shed never considered it as much as she has recently. The ridicule of her graduating class, her power seen as something not all heroes should use for good. She proved time and time again how she is not something to worry about.. But here she was.. Being abused and taken advantage of by the people she cared for. 

“Yes. I do.” She sent it with no hesitation and sat up in her bed looking down upon the phone, he made quick work of messaging her back, again. 

“We havent recruited anyone worth our time in a while. From what I saw recently as well as today. We were considering reaching out to you..but this works much better. Meet tonight?” Her golden eyes widened and her mouth popped open out of sheer shock. “Around what time? Ill be there” She stands up, with a loud crack of lightning the rain poured outside, she cursed and saw a location pop up on her phone.

An old and run down apartment complex outside of city limits. “Now. Get going. Text me when you're close.” Chiaki sprung out of bed without a second thought. Redressing herself in simple attire, something to not be seen on the streets so easily especially at night. Black leggings, worn in combat boots her mother gave her, a large black hoodie and that burner phone.

 While tying her hair up in a bun she saw her phone, the one with her best friends messaging her… and Midoriya’s name front and center..

Izuku: “Hey, cmon, Chili. We know you’re there.. We saw what happened and we want to know if your alright…We can see you reading our messages”

Izuku: What happened with your dad wasn't right but something doesn't add up from that fight, Chili.”

Bakugou: “It makes just as little sense to me too dumbass! Why did he spare you and go for FullCharge.”

Bakugou: “You better not have done something youll regret dumbass we cant lose you!”

Kiri: “I already have Shouto were on our way to talk to you, Spooky, were not mad..”

Her heart stopped in her throat as she started typing to them. She could see them all stop typing in unison. 

“Theres nothing to talk about. You all have made up your mind about me..i can see it. I sound like im just a problem to all of you. Consider me gone.” Chiaki tossed her old phone to the bed and scrawled a note. 

“I loved you all.. I'm sorry I'm not who you wanted me to be.”

With one message her phone began to blow up. Without looking back, she was gone. Hopping from her window to the road below with a splash into a puddle and starting her jog, leaving the only home she's known her whole damn life, as well as leaving her hero life behind her.

About a solid 30 minutes later she noticed she saw the buildings become more and more dilapidated marked with graffiti as sirens shrieked down streets and seedy characters crept behind alleyways, the city limits were within a mile away, and so was the old apartment building. 

Impatient and eager to meet him face to face, she messaged him.. "About a block or two away." she pulled her hood up as she exited a mini markets awning that was closed, rain started to shower down upon her, her light hair hidden beneath the oversized hood, the old marquis sign coming into sight. 

The phone vibrated in her pocket, Chiaki pulled it out and the words shone bright across her face. “You better not be some spy.. I won’t be too happy. So in your best interest, i'd be 100% transparent with me.”  She texts back quickly. “I am an open book and got little to hide.”

The text was read and the old marquis was above her, “No turning back now… the guys will be looking for me in no time.” She said to herself and entered the lobby of the closed apartment building, through the heavy wooden doors. It looked like it used to be grand but now it was so in disrepair that the wallpaper was torn back from walls and holes were created from years of neglect. 

Chiaki pulled her hood back and looked around, listening to the silence of the apartment, she took a breath and emanated a glow from her hands, her fingers and thumb lit up like bright green glow sticks.

From behind a darkened figure glided his scarred palm across the tattered wall approaching her slowly, he speaks up, cutting the silence and startling her. "Ah..There you are, you certainly didn't waste your time, Witch" she gasped and whipped around to see him, Dabi. She let out a nervous laugh and took a step forward, if she were not in this situation she wouldn't hesitate to take him down but this instance she felt on equal ground to him so she felt no threat.

 "I don’t dodge opportunities, especially ones like this, I would have contacted someone sooner but I wanted a reason to do this.. And you seemed like someone I wanted to contact first hand." Dabi approaches her until he is within mere feet of Chiaki, his feet shuffling with each stride, he's easily taller than her by more than a couple inches, being 5”2’ is sometimes a hindrance.

He blows air out of his nose with a laugh. “You were in luck then.. I had my eye on you for a while and finding intel for you was far more complicated than we expected. Chiaki Nakamura is it?”  one hand stuffed into his pants pocket and the other out to gesture towards her, his scarred hand fanned out, talking with his hands was natural for him to do it seems. His cyan blue eyes raking down her front and back to her eyes. Unblinking and just as dark and spellbinding as before, all the while being intensely overwhelming in every aspect physical. Chiaki’s heart bounced in her chest to her throat. 

His head lulls to the side.

 "Thats my name..” The young pro speaks softly, Dabi noticed the apprehension in her voice,"Oh are you nervous little Witch..?"  he didn't need her scurrying off or anything so he took to sauntering slowly around her, sizing her up like a hungry shark. She didn’t speak but caught his eyes through his black hair that curtained his eyes. “Just a bit but if i were any more scared i wouldn’t be here..” He looked upon her glowing green hands, it made her mildly conscious of the fact that they were shaking.

“Then my reputation precedes me even to fresh faces like you.” He says with a hoarse chuckle, he backs up with his arms spread open, she catches a glimpse of his long scarred arms, they flopped back down to his sides, She laughs gently in turn, her eyes fixed on his face, being this close she could see the gold sheen to the staples on his mouth and under his eyes. 

“If that nervous behavior is because you’re scared and having second thoughts about this.. And want to go back to playing around as a hero, i won't hesitate to fry you where you stand, but i'm hoping you're using that common sense of yours so i don't have to.” She listens intently, unwavering and dimming her hands back down, as to not allow her quirk to radiate outside the building.. Dabi’s mouth doesn’t even move beyond a normal straight line but his eyes say everything: He doesn’t see her as a stranger.. Despite this being their first time meeting amicably.

 “rest assured i won’t hurt you, from what I have seen already we need someone with a quirk like yours around, but when it comes to me bringing you back to the bar.. They won’t allow you in unless I check you for a wire, lift your arms.” He instructs and she lifts her arms just enough for him.

 His hands starting to traverse her arms and waist make her face swell with heat, a much more embarrassing position to be in… He was thorough and rough with the patdown, his face remained the same unchanging and stoic, her eyes trained on his face and the rough scars that covered the bottom portion of his face to the part directly under his tear ducts. Besides that he doesn't look bad.. The scars only add that intense look to him, the reason why people were scared of his looks. 

“I wanted to know something..” She caught his attention with a low hum, his brow raising and his lips curling upward. “What was the deal with you getting my father off of me..why didnt you attack me.” His hands finished patting down her body and he tuts her pulling the burner phone from her pocket.

 “You see.. That moment was televised and the moments leading up were not, and if they were, they didn't televise your abuse period or the reason behind it. It was pretty tragic, I heard your father's harsh words.. even more brutal pounding id say, he blocked all of your defences, your little friends didn't come for your rescue, they stood around." She stood stock still listening to him,

"Our Pro Hero lil Witch being ‘saved’ by me when i had enough of seeing someone who is more useful then her partners let on, being beaten to a pulp, and then when things seemed to be working in your favor and the fabled heroes would have gotten me, you in turn...stopped an entire highrise building from squishing me to death.” He leans forward and drops his voice an octave, dipping into a form of seductive and joking. 

“Kinda humiliating isn’t it? Being saved by a well known villain isn't really what the public wants to see.." he shrugs and steps back looks down at his palm, his long fingers moving around trying to catch her attention like he could light a flame at any moment,  with the other hand in his pocket. "I saw someone who needed help in more ways than one.” Her eyes widened as he stuffed the phone into his pocket “I saw someone who I had my eye on for a while being beaten for not doing something as useful as aiding her teammate… and for her own safety right?” He questions as he leans back against the wall adjacent to her.

 “Yeah.. that's right.. How do you know all that? I mean like, not alot of people know that about my quirk, i cant heal at a distance and provide backup unless i have backup...” He snaps his fingers and points at her. “Exactly my point. Your dear old dad didn't take his much more volatile daughter into account and only used you as a support to him, fueling his ego and making you look bad to the rest of the world.” his demeanor was so foreign to her, he spoke so eloquently and with conviction, a sadistic and perverse form of understanding that drew her in like a super magnet.

 She stood blanched, thunderstruck by how he's describing the situation to her, It's like he's in her head reading every emotion as plain on her face. “Yes. He never took me seriously… as a hero.. No one really ever did.” Dabi's eyes softened as their eyes remained locked in a stare of...mutual understanding on his part… she knew little of his past or who he was, but the weight of not being good enough or a lost cause caused his fists to clench.. he not dare ask anything personal yet.. he has a job to do and earn her trust and read her and her situation like a book. Foreshadowing the type of person she was made to be over years of unfair treatment and situations outside of their control.

 “Getting closer.. Go on, Witch.” She swallowed air and kept spilling her guts..  “I use my quirk to even help anyone or… do something for the good of others and its never highlighted in the slightest, no job well done or whatever. No sort of fanfare or recognition, i come home and.. get judged and told I'm not as good as… as him, from him.” SHe clasps her hands together and opens them up again, Dabi’s eyes watching the little light show from her fingertips and then fade away again. The more his eyes looked to her hands the more he wanted to see the beautiful little auras again, it was then Dabi realized her quirk is easy to be triggered, or atleast constantly active. “But when… i do one thing thats out of character for a… normal pro hero… all eyes are on you..and I was treated like a...pariah” 

Dabi nods his head and his smooth voice lulled her ears “Understand now? They only want you when you're useful to them, you're treated as backup, but in the right hands you could be so much more..” Her head hung low, like she just discovered it, that despite her power and the fact shes equally as dangerous maybe even more so she's treated as lesser than everyone else. 

Dabi mentally kicked himself, making such a pretty face sulk and look dour, he couldn't just stand there and allow her to beat herself up over how others treat her. Dabi took a step forward to her and found himself raising his hand to her chin and made her look right up at him, her chin betwixt the pads of his forefinger and thumb. “Come on now… don't be so down on yourself, they might see you as only an asset and a tool to use and expand upon themselves, as nothing more then a battery that never quits, but with us, you can reach a version of yourself you have never seen before.. And we can help you with that. We will make sure you surpass your expectations'' She caught herself staring. 

Eyes glazed over in tears that threatened to fall, and with a blink they were gone. “Excuse my ignorance but… you're serious like you can do that?” She asked with trepidation and abit of excitement that she had to cage off to not seem too eager. 

“It's not a promise, Nakamura. Its a fact that is going to be a reality. Now..” He turned on his heel and gave them some distance in the lobby, he was almost shrouded in darkness. “Give me a demonstration on what you can do.” He instructs. 

Chiaki blinks and becomes blanched. A demonstration. In here? She clasps her hands together and pulls them apart that green glow emanating from her hands to her elbows, pretty gold and green eyes enveloped in pure green with irises, her hands splayed out fingers slowly dancing and expanding outward, like licks of fire.

 “Brace yourself.” She curled in her fingers to drain the energy from surrounding lights and power, making the environment for everyone else but her heavy and sluggish. Dabi had a bead of sweat roll down his face and a headache grow slowly. “And just as it was pulled away I can give it back on my own terms.” She points a manicured finger at Dabi. The headache vanishes without a trace and his energy restored , almost knocking him on his ass from the dizzying feeling of having the wind knocked into you.

 The lights and the power entirely shut down for a full block and the bulbs bust outside. She holds a ball of concentrated energy in her palm and absorbs it into her skin, a content smile spreading across her delicate features and bowing forward and standing back up straight.

 “Oh yeah, they're going to thank me for insisting you be our new recruit... Warn me before you use your quirk on me again, will you?” She snorts and cocks a brow up at him. “So.. do it again later and knock you on your ass?” Chiaki giggled, Dabi quizzically tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, as if he's breaking down her words in his head, he flipped his black hair from his face as chuckles amused.

 “I knew I liked you for a reason, sarcastic little thing. ” she blushes and covers her mouth embarrassed. “I think it would be smart if we left.. I don't know if my friends are out looking for me or not..and honestly i would rather not face them head on yet.. And i don't want you to be hurt.” Chiaki looks back at him and blushes not realizing how worried she was for his safety, "What already thinking of me? Don't get so soft on me now, Nakamura.." Dabi chuckles and his hands return to his pockets and with a half turn he nods his head in the opposite direction of her, signalling her to follow him towards the exit of the building, he stops before the door. 

"Wait..you mean those UA kids..? trust me, Nakamura.. they arent your friends.. i don't need to know what you went through today after our little scene, you know as well as i that they're already plotting against you from what you did.." his words rang true along with his velveteen voice, the tall and slender Villain seemed to know more than he let on.

Chiaki became quiet and more confident with her decision. She made this choice, and she really didn't regret a damn thing. "And that very thing you have done today, Chiaki.." he slammed his hand into the wall, anchored his hand beside her head, making her damn near jump out of her skin. Lightning cracked outside illuminating the scars that adorned his features.

  The trench coat splaying open and just a bit of his shirt collar dipping down to reveal the purple scar stretches to his chest, gold tint staples fixed secure into what skin he had left to him that remained unscarred.

 Her eyes wandered from his chest back to his brilliant blue eyes. "Made me realize that you were worth contacting. Trust me, Nakamura.. we will bring out the best in you, UA would have easily tainted your view on the world and how ‘justice’ is delivered; but it seems like you know the world for what it really is." he gave her cheek a pat and a pinch, his gaze remained on her and a sickly grin twisted on his features when he notices her eyes wandering to the purple skin and his pronounced collar dipping further down his chest.. His hand engulfed her chin, capturing it and making her look him in the eyes. 

"Yknow, staring at people in the League will getcha in trouble or hurt, Not me though.. just don't get too used to it, anyone who stares  that long at me i consider mice…but honestly i don't see you scurrying off anytime soon." He backs off when she blushes brighter and gives him a shove. 

"Ah quit! Its kinda hard to not stare if you haven't noticed, Dabi." He pulled his phone out of his pocket and started texting someone facing the heavy door, when he received a reply he put it back into his pocket, and sighed opening the heavy metal door with a creak, rain poured down into the street as he spoke up so she could hear him. "its what we ugly folk are used to i'm afraid." Chiaki merely scoffs and pulls back up the hood and opened her palm flat and above his and her head together she created a translucent green umbrella like barrier protecting them from the downpour,  "Ugly is abit of a stretch, Dabi..." she mutters and follows him into the alley where the rain continued ro shower down bouncing off the barrier, a singular street lamp illuminating the barren street leaving the only city she had ever known, Dabi replayed that phrase in his head and he momentarily closed his eyes.

 Its been years since he got compliments.. it was strange but not unwelcome. "Ohhhh little mouse, your gonna get along very well with me.. stick by my side and everyone will like you… eventually.. Your about to meet one of them anyway." As he said this casually as the street became a black and purple haze, a portal opened up and swirled as a literal exit from the city.. to wherever the hell she was going next. 

Chiaki gasped and took an apprehensive step forward.

 "Scared?" Dabi asked, with a little smirk on his lips. "Just a bit…" Dabi extended his hand for her, inviting her with him "Cmon. Trust me. Trust a burnt man with nothing to lose." He chides playfully. Chiaki accepts his invitation, his hand warm and textured with the staples.. Dabis heart skipped a beat at the contact.

 Soft and small hands engulfed by his own as he guided her through the portal, stunning blue eyes never deviating from her gold and green ones.. like they were captivated by one another.. before she knew it, she was in a completely different location. She blinked and looked around, thunderstruck almost by the environment.

A bar that reeked of booze and smoke of different varieties. "Welcome home, for now." He says in a flat tone, she pulled off her hood and looked around.

 Dabi still had his back to her and looked at his palm for a moment that felt like an eternity, the ghost of her hand remaining in his own, strange emotions bubbled up from nowhere, he shoved them back down and spoke up. 

"Everyone seems to be out by now, usually the bar is never empty. The person who summoned that portal is here...Kurogiri, which means our leader Shigaraki is here. He’ll meet you at some point..when he's not on his damn video games." he nudged her shoulder with his elbow and shook his wet hair out. Turning to look down at her, "Nice place...you guys bounce from place to place often?" She asks in what felt like a shy whisper, the resounding echo from the hall made her feel like she was shouting. 

"Haven't in a while.. hoping we won't have too again. Wont say where because it doesn't matter. Anyway, wanna come up to my room? There's an old couch up there you can crash on. Unless you want my bed, heh.. Wouldn't mind you in bed with me.” He breathily chuckles and pinches her chin starting to lead the way, “Don't get any ideas! I'm just tired.. I haven't had any sleep and its like.. Almost 2:30 in the morning.” She yawned and dragged her feet behind him.

Chiaki follows him up the stairs and down the long corridor to the last door on the left, he opened it to find a bedroom with a king sized mattress pushed to the wall and the windows covered in blackout curtains, an old couch directly under it and  a flat screen across the room as well as his own computer and cans of empty energy drinks by it, as well as an ashtray that looked like it was used normally. 

“This room is mine, go ‘head.” He invites her in, noting the tired look on her face, he found it almost innocent if it weren't for the remnants of blush still ghosted on the apples of her cheeks.

Dabi had booted the door closed behind him as she kicked off her boots, he spoke up again, watching her movements, as they seemed to have gotten lazier. “Not much of an interior decorator but it works for me, sprucing the room up would be too much effort.” 

Making himself comfortable he sheds the trench coat and shuffles through a cabinet in the desk where his computer is located,”I'm getting pretty tired and by the looks of it you are too, so im afraid im gonna have to restrain you. Cmere.” He says, pulling out a pair of handcuffs that catches Chiaki’s attention, her brow instantly rising in confusion and a hint of worry. Dabis eyes flicker up to her when she whips around at the chain jingling as he approaches her, twirling the cuffs around his finger 

 “W-wait why do you need to restrain me?” She asks a little wary, “Its so you dont pull anything while I'm sleeping… can't be too careful, little mouse.” He states clasping the cuffs around her wrists in the front, they clicked almost to the point where he could get two fingers under them. Chiaki looked at him with big innocent eyes and then down to the cuffs on her wrists. “Tsk..you do this to all the new recruits or am i just that special.” He chuckles and turns his back to her. “You’re a first, to both be cuffed and able to sleep in my bed. Consider yourself ‘special’”

She looks back up to find Dabi stripping his white shirt off and tossing it to the couch, a blush forming on her face and a pang in her heart as she looks at him closely, hes much better looking up close… fit and lean, along with the added look of his scars that dressed his torso into his pants only made him 2 times more appealing and more her type. “Holy shit..” She says out loud with her jaw slacked abit. “Checking me out, little mouse? Remember what I said about staring.” He chuckled and laid back in bed exhausted, pulling the sheets up her body comfortably. “Sorry was just admiring the view, Dabi.” She teased rolling her eyes and settling into bed, Dabi’s eyes widened briefly and felt that sweet warm feeling creeping up his chest again, this time he let it simmer there.

“im going to sleep.. Too tired to think, that energy drink i had acouple hours ago finally wore off." Chiaki yawned and stretched, facing away from him to ease the situation, that situation being she wanted to face him and find comfort from him. 

A sort of comfort she longed for for years, acceptance and safety.. Funny she found safety with a villain.. With villains alike. This caused her to giggle to herself, he raises a brow and looked over to her with his arms tucked behind his head 

Instead as Dabi turned off the light and the distant thunder rolled she spoke up “Dabi..” “Hm?” She turned back over and some light from the opened part of the black out curtains illuminated her eyes, Dabi once again caught himself peering into them wistfully finding himself looking her over. 

 A genuine glow in her eye, appreciation and a connection the two have never felt before, “Thank you, for bringing me in.. you wont regret it,” She brings her bound hands up to pull the pillow further up under her head, and licked her lips, swallowing her fear and letting a wall down, even just alittle bit to him. Dabi mused and observed her closely, finally seeing the opposite end of what its like to have someone in need go to him of all people. “i haven't felt anything beyond disappointment for a long long time, so to say i feel comfortable with someone i was fighting not even a day ago says anything, i hope you understand and i'm not stepping over any boundaries.” He grinned, and responded with an amused chuckle. “Getting soft on me again, better not make that a habit with anyone else here, I just might get jealous.” Dabi grazed his finger against her cheek, she leaned against his hand and smiled angelically.

“I'm starting to like that fire in your eye. ” He ghosts his knuckles down her cheek as her eyes closed slowly, blinking exausted as the cold air kicked on from the ac unit above them, she shivered and threw all caution to the wind, Dabi stiffened as she moved closer to his end of the bed, she ducked her head abit beneath the blanket to snuggle against his warm chest, his heart hammered with nerves he still couldnt place a name too, the same hand that stroked her cheek rested on her shoulder, his thumb rubbing slow circles into the sweatshirts fabric. 

Comforting and confusing thoughts swirled through the villains mind as he soon came to realize he remained awake for all but another 20 minutes, the soft rise and fall of her chest and side indicated she had long fallen asleep in his arms. 

Dabi rested his chin against her head and attempted to find the sleep he had long since forgotten in his past life. Acceptance and comfort from someone. 

He sighed and whispered in a husky tone of voice.

“Glad we had that talk, Little Mouse…”

XXX~

Hey yall its my first MHA fic. You might see more of her and Dabi in the future cuz honestly this was fun!

As the New Year 2021 is finally here, following the demanding year of 2020, I decided to make a global reading to check energies of 2021. You might want to read this as global energies affect every one of us in a way or another.

We’ve reached the top of 2020, The Sacred Mountain. The climb has been demanding – more for some than others – and we have needed to overcome obstacles. Notice also how Sacred Mountain as a symbol is related to hermits, who isolate themselves from others to be on top of the mountain. Year 2020 was a year of isolation and distance, which was part of the hard climb we all had to go up in a way or another. While it doesn’t look like it, year 2020 served its spiritual higher purpose and thus it was a sacred year. Usually the most demanding years are the best in a long run for us all. We might be here anymore to see the events which evolve in the future – like in 100 years – but people in 2121 will be able to track things from their time to 2020 and its events.

As we leave 2020 behind, we emerge more wiser than in the beginning of 2020 with the Elder card. This is the most important key for the next year. All the knowledge, wisdom and experience we have gathered in 2020 will serve us in 2021 (and for many for a lot longer). Many people emerge from the old to this new year with new understanding. We have seen globally how different old masks and facades fall, how peoples’ truest wants and desires come out, how governments truly are etc. That was also part of the 2020’s lessons so that we’d learn to turn within and trust our own guidance. This is also the message of the Elder. The humanity will continue turning more within and accept less from the outside sources in 2021. This is the time of a major energy shift, when people are awakening to their own powers, to their own wants. No more walking with closed eyes while forgetting ourselves. We have gained understanding of how things can be done differently (for example remote work, online purchases, better communal operations) and there’s no return to the old with the wisdom of Elder. Surely, government and the status quo that’s “dying” will try to keep up with it (good example is Trump refusing to leave his post. He’s an embodiment of the old times which won’t work anymore but which refuse to let go of their benefits and what they have gained without a futile fight).

Year 2021 will be the element of Air. Air is wonderful because it represents dreams, ideas, thought and freedom. We will feel a sense of lightness this year when the year changes and we have big hopes that things will turn better in 2021. People will be keener on trying new things, developing new things, having better innovations and this will affect also marketing and business. While the business world is all about money, they are very adaptable now and willing to try new things because how people behave and think and live has changed in 2020 for good. Air is also the second most spiritual element right after water, so changes in old religions can happen (like them being more open minded and really going there to genuinely help people). People are awakening more for the spirituality and will want to find their own ways. Revival of old religions and traditions can also arise more in 2021.

Air’s negative side is that it’s fickle and can’t make decisions. It’s hasty, unreliable, hard to grasp, too high to understand. While ideas appear, they might not be able to put in use yet. We can take a breather but obstacles of 2020 aren’t yet over. For that, there’s Narrow Pathway. It means that the path that opens in 2021 after the struggles of 2020 is narrow and we might need to squeeze through it with our last strength, without knowing what’s on the other end (because of the fickle air). The world isn’t free from obstacles yet and this is understandable. Themes of 2020 will continue appear in 2021 too with the card of Overcoming Obstacles, but they won’t be so disastrous or demanding anymore. In 2021, we’re mending things and overcoming them. The worst is behind. It is the last sprint.

What these obstacles are globally are related to government, work life, employment, social security, social structures etc. a bit depending what country it is we’re talking about. That’s why Discovering Truth is present in this reading. Like said, 2020 shook people up; “Wake up! Listen! Are you following your own truth or someone else’s? Who are you? What do you want? Are you happy in your life? If not what needs to change?”

People will be less willing to just suck it up and follow blindly authorities with their demands. Together with the Spirit of Air, the innovative governments, companies, organizations and people, who operate together with others giving them freedom to choose and live from their truth, will succeed the best in 2021.  This unwillingness to give your own power back can appear as clashes against old authorities refusing to let go of their old glory. People are closing the moment when they have had enough of all bullshit. It is important that everyone finds their own truth and lives from it. The obstacles appearing in front of every person this year will ask them “Who are you? What do you truly want?” It might not be a time for taking action yet for everyone as the Air represents thinking and thoughts. It is definitely good year for some mental work and figuring out who we are. I think everyone will have more or less work on that this year.

Voyage of the Heart is very soothing and warming. It says that this all happens so that people would dare to go towards their dreams. That they would learn to listen to their hearts instead of listening others, following authorities and traditions blindly, and operating from the space outside heart (fear, gluttony, greed etc.) There’s NOTHING wrong with following any authority if it makes the person happier, more fulfilled, more in tune with who they are. Some people will find different guides, authorities etc. for this new journey they want to follow. That’s okay.

Matters of heart will be important. Compassion, wanting to be together and unite again are strongly present in 2021. The year 2020 stopped everyone on their track, forced them to climb up the Sacred Mountain without much any help and leisure, isolated everyone from one another and did this so that we would see what is TRULY important to us. What truly makes people happy and healthy. Connection to others. Compassion. Kindness. Free will. Freedom. Laughter. Socializing. Hobbies. Friends. Family. Loved ones. Nature. Working together for a better goal. All these are high qualities which are natural to us. These qualities will get more important role in 2021 and we will appreciate these a lot. I just saw the movie Soul and laughed how such a movie with a motto “Enjoy your life & See what’s truly important in it” appears in the year 2020 which forces people to stop and do those things. The reward of all these wonderful things will taste even better in 2021.

Voyage of the Heart can mean for some people that they will find a new home somewhere else. They will move and start anew. Relocating is typical for awakening of one’s heart and own truth.  This is also feminine card and feminine energy will heal more in 2021. This has been already happening (see Me Too-movement and Black Lives Matter) and it continues in 2021. Many can figure out this year that it is OK to be feminine and have gentle qualities. This includes companies and authorities with gentler, nurturing, more accepting and creative approaches and values. Green values are part of the uprise of feminine energy.

The 2021 will have a Favorable Outcome. It also says that all this bullshit we’ve gone through will have a Favorable Outcome for the whole world in a long run (but like I said, we might not be here to witness all those good things). New innovations, people rising up to fight for their right for happy and meaningful life, fighting against oppression so that all would be treated equal, quitting the old bullshit spewed on us by the authorities, and all personal discoveries will benefit everyone. As we’re all connected to one another, your personal happiness will spread through this network of souls to others and uplift not only you but the whole global energy.

This Is Your Life’s Purpose says that we all came here on this time intentionally. It’s not a coincidence. We are all gaining something of this energy shift which will support us in our daily lives, in our bodies, in our purpose. Remember what I said about the movie Soul? Yeah. That’s the thing happening now! The harder the obstacles hit the farther you have accidentally wandered from your truth and yourself. It can be hard, but you can do it! No matter where you are now, it is OK.

Focus Upon Divine And Perfect Health is a wonderful thing to see for 2021! Covid will loose its grip on us and we would do well if we concentrated more on thinking health and healthy thoughts and mongering in fear. This DOESN’T mean that people should dismiss the pandemic. No. It means “Keep Calm and Carry On”. Wash your hands. Keep your distance to others. Wear a mask. Look after yourself and others. Don’t take stupid risks. And, while doing that, concentrate on health, healthy thoughts and the promise that this pandemic shall pass. We’re almost at the end of it. The scientific discoveries as well as the economical and social discoveries and changes will promote better health for people in the future, too, and hopefully change for example work life to healthier with remote works and such (of course, it is not possible to change ALL working environments to healthier in a zap, but any progress is better than no progress). Also, as people respect their truth and themselves, and allow the feminine energies flow with nurturing, creativity, equality, girl power etc. it will benefit peoples’ health too. This includes everyone no matter how their identify themselves. Energies don’t have genders or identities. They just are, just like colors.

The last card is Let Go Of Fear…Now. This is for the end of the year. Things will be better then but everyone will benefit if they can calm down as much as possible and fear as little as possible. Suppressing emotions and feelings is not healthy, so if you feel something, you feel it. Getting stuck in there is the problem. As the previous cards said, the new changes will let people and businesses let go of some fears, which will benefit people in a long run (like “if I let my employees have remote work days, they will be lazy”).  The fear of the pandemic should also ease up the deeper we get into 2021. Notice also how the character is a man and in the sword, there’s a reflection of another man. This is a symbol of masculine energy also healing. Masculine energy is toxic when it has lost its connection to feminine energy (and feminine energy is toxic when it has lost its connection to masculine energy). As the feminine energy cleans up and gets stronger, it will benefit masculine energy and men/those who identify themselves as men or masculine. Men are healing, too, and a health masculinity is protective, loving, supportive, gentle and warm.

This is a promise that there’s nothing to be afraid in 2021. Everything is panning out in the big picture exactly as it should, even if it didn’t feel like it from our limited perspective. All is well and all will be even better.

One More Night. Pt 11

A/n: 

Also: 

Pairing: Kim Hongjoong / fem!Reader

Chapter: 11/14

Genre: Mutual pining, canon compliant, fluffy af, angsty af, suggestive, teasing and filled with that good shit that everyone loves

Words in this chapter: 5947

“I talked with him yesterday” Seonghwa stood next to me the following day, speaking up, without looking at me and only loud enough so that I heard him as we stood a bit to the side. I’d noticed him when he’d came to stand beside me a few minutes earlier but his words were still completely out of the blue and I looked over at him for a few seconds in surprise while we waited for the signal to start walking out of the airport, knowing that he talked about Hongjoong without even asking. I wet my lips as my gaze rested on the faint red soft mess of hair a few steps in front of us, a headband over his forehead and eyes watching the ground as he swayed back and forth slightly, deep in thought with headphones in his ears. “He loves you; you know…” The eldest hyung continued and I nodded, my lips pursed as I looked away again from the man who held my heart, “And he doesn’t say those words lightly, barely says them to us at all but he couldn’t stop himself from rambling it over and over when we talked. He’s hurt… you are his first true love after all, his love for music excluded” I met Seonghwa’s eyes quickly, feeling my cheeks burn and he gave me a sad smile, “You need to solve this, leave us at the dorm as soon as we get back and take him to his real home, not necessary your apartment- but to you, with you, where his heart is. You deserve to be happy noona, you both do” He looked away and sighed as the queue started to move and my heart squeezed with the anxious weight of his words as we walked and then jumped into the cars that waited on the other side. .. My own car was parked exactly where I left it, in the parking space connected with the boys’ dorm. I reached out my hand and took a hold of Hongjoongs jacket, just as he was about to join the others and he gave me a confused look, taking out the headphones for the first time since we’d sat down in the airplane in Japan, “Come with me” I begged, and he looked down where my hand gripped the black fabric before he looked back at his hyung who raised his brows, urging him without using any words that he should do as I asked. Hongjoong scoffed slightly but didn’t argue as he took his seat next to me, like he’d done so many times before and I drove us to my apartment in silence, parked, walked up the stairs and unlocked my front door, unable to get rid of the heavy feeling I had in my throat, like I’d swallowed an uneven boulder and it had gotten stuck in my throat, slashing up and wounding my insides, tears of defeat collected in the corners of my eyes as we entered and I locked behind me like I always did. “This is it then?” I asked, taking a shaky breath, almost chuckling in disbelief of how much had changed these last days as I watched my feet, standing frozen on the tiles in my hallway after I’d taken off my shoes. It was like we were strangers again and Hongjoong sighed as he rolled his eyes, hooked my arm with his and I looked at him with confusion as we entered my bedroom and sat me down on the bed, “Lie down” He said simply but I didn’t comply, sick of the way he’d been ordering me around since the day I started working with him, and even though it had mostly been out of love, teasing and joking around in the past, I couldn’t take it right now. I just didn’t have the energy. “I don’t know if you’re flirting or trying to start a fight, but I don’t want to. We need to talk and I’m tired of you acting like this whenever you meet some sort of obstacle in your life. You just turn off completely, not talking to me, not talking to your members. I want to solve this thing between us, I want us to be how we’ve always been” I begged, and he sat down next to me instead, rubbed his eyes, tiredly. “Well, you kinda fucked that up when you basically said that my love for you is a lost cause” He said and clicked his tongue, jaw clenching as he fiddled with his clothes. I pinched the bridge of my nose and felt myself losing it again. I didn’t think of myself as an aggressive person. I’d never actually hit someone, but I’d definitely had a flash of a violent thought here and there and this was one of those moments. I clenched my fist and felt my entire body tense up for a second as furious anger boiled in my system again. “I’m sorry I let you down then, Joong” I fought to keep my voice calm, but it still cracked as I tried to swallow down the tears that threatened to make an appearance, “I’m sorry that I fell for your amazing charm, your perfect fucking body, the way only you could make me smile in the darkest, loneliest moments in my miserable life ever since we started working together. I’m so, so fucking sorry that I actually had the audacity to hope that you felt the same and then get overjoyed when you actually did, and it works, the sweet kisses, the way we only touch ourselves to get off. For now. But we both want more, right? And how do you think that will work out? How could you ever expect that I, a normal girl to ever, ever get away with dating you? Huh? How do you expect that? Do you really, really think that Ateez will have a chance to properly break through the market in any part of the world if the leader of the group is dating his stylist? I’m employed by the same company as you and you’re my client, it’s just morally wrong in the eyes of so many and a scandal you’ll never be able to break free from…” I cried, sobbing as I tried my hardest not to raise my voice at him and he wet his lips when I finished, swallowed hard and then nodded, “Then don’t” He said and my heart broke into a million pieces, and I audibly choked on my breath, croaked forth a, “What?” between broken sobs, tears falling uncontrollably from my cheeks and I felt sick from anxiety, his lack of reaction to my sorrow made me want to puke. “Just quit, stop coming up with the fucked-up reason that you are company owned. Freelance and I’ll pay you out of my own pocket” He said, jaws tensed and I looked at him confused, “I’m the reason why we’re in the situation after all” He continued, dangerously calm, almost seeming older than me with his logical and calculated words instead of hysterical crying and I felt a hinge of embarrassment as I wiped my tears, “I’m the one who should be sorry” He shrugged, “I’m the one who has been pushing you, both mentally tormenting you with my naughty words in inappropriate situations and pressing up on you when you might not have wanted me so close, pursuing you even after you’ve begged me to stop… I’ve been rude to you in difficult situations, jealous, envious of the people that own your friendship as well. Like a green-eyed monster, greedy and selfish and wanting you all to myself. Hell… I almost thought about quitting the company because the whole feud between San and me seemed so never ending that I just wanted to run away, scared that I’d do something I’d regret if he ever came close to you again ” He sighed and shook his head to the memories he talked about, eyes on his clasped hands in his lap, “I can stop completely, If you want to. Talking about San, he’s still interested to have you as his stylist, if you’d have him instead. I can step down; I can stop tormenting you” My lips were on his in a heartbeat, making him shut up just after he finished his sentence and my heart sang with happiness when he gasped in surprise as I tackled him on the bed, making him lie down on his back while straddling his lower belly. My hands quickly found their familiar spot in his hair and I pulled on it hard, causing him to inhale sharply in surprise before he met my lips again. “Babe, I…” He tried to talk between the wet sloppy kisses but I didn’t let him, tired of feeling distraught, tired of feeling like I was shattered into a thousand pieces, desperately just needed to be mended back together with his body against mine. “I love you” I said and he smiled against my lips, the first smile of that day and I inhaled sharply as he repeated my words, his hands on my hips, right where they belonged and I paused, broke the kiss and sat back up slightly, “Say it again” I asked and gulped as I watched him, lips a bit swollen from my sudden attack, hair tousled from my yearning fingers and chest heaving underneath me, looking up on me with the corners of his lips upwards in that wonderful smile he seemed to save only for me. I still found it hard to believe that he was actually real sometimes, not only willing to put his hands on me in the ways I craved but loving the feeling of my skin against his just as much as I did. Brows furrowed, like my touch was burning him when I moved a strand of hair from his forehead, before I removed the headband completely and let his hair spill out like an auburn aura around his head against my cream coloured sheets. “I love you” He repeated again, and I inhaled sharply, taking his words to my heart, the tips of my fingers caressed down his face to his cheek, following the edge of his chin, down his neck and the quick beating of his pulse, “Again” I demanded and indulged in the way he took a controlled breath when I unzipped the shirt he wore, revealing an oversized tank-top before my hands splayed on his chest instead, “I love you” He placed a hand on my cheek, and I leaned into it, my eyes still locked with his. “Again” I whispered now, so deeply lost in his eyes that I felt the world around us disappear. Seeing myself mirrored in the darkness of them. “I love you” He replied and smiled, giving me a tender look before he leaned me down to place a soft kiss on my lips, holding me there for a few seconds longer, sighing contently through his nose and my hands reflectively buried in his soft hair again, feeling the silky strands ripple between my fingers as I took a shaky breath. The hand that cupped my cheek travelled back to grab a handful of hair in my neck as he deepened the kiss, as if he couldn’t help but let out the side of him that needed more, opened his mouth to taste my lips, tongue meeting mine halfway as I kissed back with the same heated intensity, knowing how he worked by now. What he craved and how I could give it to him, my body moving against his, flushing my chest against him as if I wanted to sink into him, disappear within him, and I separated my legs further, rolled my jeans covered heat against his hard stomach and he groaned deep at my demanding desire, the sound resonated within my soul and I shuddered slightly as a ripple of desire went through my body. His hand moved again, stroking down my sides until they came to cup my butt and he squeezed hard before he pushed my body further down to nudge against his cock and I swallowed hard when I felt that he was already rock hard, his appetite for me so large that I found it hard to breathe, a gasp left my lips when the sweet smile of his turned lethal with greedy hunger and I couldn’t help but clench my thighs over his hips, excitement pounding in my entire body. “What do you have in mind?” I groaned and he licked his lips, eyes hooded, and my heart skipped as they tugged up in a smirk. “Hopefully the same as you” He said and I bit my lower lip and nodded, my blood boiling hot as he rolled us around and I choked on my breath when my back hit the bed and he sat back up on his knees, digging his toes into the bed for support and pulled of his blazer, the shirt he had under and then finally the tank-top with swift motions, watching me with glazed over eyes as I bit down on my tongue, my stomach clenching hard. I swallowed, almost nervously as he carefully placed his glasses on my bedside table. My eyes never left his body as he towered over me, eyes so dark that the sweet brown I was used to only showed up as a thin line, face already flushed with lust as he leaned down again, shuddering slightly, like he was nervous as well, when his fingers hooked under the edge of my shirt. He met my eyes underneath his lashes, as if he was unsure that I still was ok, but I nodded and the reassured feeling it gave him, lit a flame in his eyes as he pulled my shirt over my head before his attention turned to the shorts I was wearing. His fingers trembled slightly when he unbuttoned them, and I placed my hand over his to still the motion. He looked up again, scared that I’d tell him to stop, “We don’t have to rush” I said softly, stroking over his knuckles comfortingly but he just shook his head, licked his lower lip into his mouth and gave me another breath-taking smirk, “Believe me baby, I won’t rush, but I’ve been waiting for so long, my want isn’t just a want anymore, it’s a craving and I’m planning to give in completely” My cheeks flushed slightly as his well-placed words made my stomach do somersaults and I looked away as he pulled the shorts down over my ankles and threw them aside, almost downright shy when he leaned back on his feet again, watching me with hooded eyes as I unhooked my bra in the back. I fought the feeling of wanting to cover up as I threw the garment to the side. My cheeks burning red now as his mouth fell open and a wrinkle appeared between his brows, eyes teary with lust as a shaky inhale left his lips. My hands continued down to my panties and he closed his mouth and swallowed, reaching out to place his hands on mine to stop my movements, “No, please. Let me” He begged and I paused before I nodded shortly, flinched a little out of excitement as he hooked his fingers at the lining and pulled down, captivatingly slow and I gasped when he finally saw me naked, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he gulped, taking in the sight of me for the first time. “You’re gorgeous. Fuck, I’ve imagined this moment… imagined you, so many times but this is…” He reached out to carefully separate my legs and I clenched my eyes shut, wanting to hide my face in embarrassment when he cursed loudly at my wetness. “Open your eyes, please. I need you to see how badly I want you” He said, voice low and husky, hands squeezing around my thighs and I opened my eyes again, reluctantly and bit down on my lip as I met his eyes, that beautiful pink flush on his cheeks and sweat already collecting on the roots of the baby hairs in his forehead. “I love you” He said again, and my heart ached for him. How could I ever doubt myself when it came to him? How could I ever doubt that I wanted to give myself completely to him? “I need you” I managed to say, and he wet his lips, his eyes soften, and a smile tugged on them, “And you’ll have me, for as long as you want” He said back and I reached out for him, placed my hand on his cheek, bringing his lips to mine, not able to stop myself from tasting him again, like his lips was a wine and I wanted nothing else but to get drunk. He kissed me back with vigour, before he placed hungry nibbles underneath my chin and down my neck. Paused for just a few seconds to unbutton his own pants, pulling them down and threw them on the floor to join the rest of our clothes before his lips were on mine again, and he peppered my body with kisses, his lips soft on my skin as he went lower and lower, kissed the swell of my breast and my fingers buried in the red of his hair when he sucked a sensitive nub into his mouth, nibbling slightly on it with his front teeth, meeting my eyes behind dark long lashes and I moaned, writhed underneath him while he went over the other, repeating the action and I hooked my leg around his waist, needed to feel all of him as he made sparks of pleasure shoot through my body. He growled, low and guttural and bucked his hips into me, the tip of his clothed cock prodded my entrance and I clenched around nothing, so wet and bothered that it actually began to hurt. Almost thankful when he left my boobs to continue downward, feeling like my head was among the clouds when he pressed lithe kisses over my ribs, down my stomach and I sat up slightly to lean on my elbows, choked on my breath when his hands came to rest on my thighs and he looked up, face centimetres from my cunt. “This is the last chance to tell me to stop, because I fear that I won’t be able to, once I get a taste of you” “Don’t stop, please, don’t stop at all” I shook my head fast and he chuckled lightly before closing his eyes and flicked out his tongue, planting it flat over the lips of my cunt before he licked carefully at the slit and I could feel him inhaling with difficulty as he swallowed. Moaning and sending vibrations through my body at the taste, my taste and my surprised gasp spurred him on as he repeated the action before he carefully sucked my clit into his mouth. I was a mess within seconds, my head falling back as I buried my fingers into his hair, pulled on it softly while gasping between hard gasps. The feeling of him, eating me out like it’s the last thing he’d ever do, was better than anything I’d ever dreamed of and only God knew how much I’d actually been dreaming, hoping that the moment would become reality one day and I inhaled sharply as his hands gripped my thighs hard, pushing me down harder on his face, the grip of his fingers almost bruised my skin but I didn’t care, only embraced the feeling as he pushed his nose against my pubic bone. His tongue slipped into my entrance to lick up my juices and I swallowed hard, as his hot shaky exhales send ripples down my spine. “Please, darling I…” I choked forth and he paused, came up between my legs again to meet my eyes, chin wet and eyes dark and he licked his lips, like he’d just had a great meal, gulped when he met my eyes, ready to listen to my every command, “Yes?” He asked, and I swallowed, mouth dry as I was fighting to remember how to speak. “I need…” “More?” He asked, eyebrows raised and I nod, my head falling back against the bed when he chuckled lightly, lovingly at my need for him before he let go of my right thigh and I cursed loudly when a finger entered me, eyes rolling back in my skull and a breathy moan escaped my throat, “Fuck babe, you’re so wet, I just slid right into you” Hongjoong said, wonder in his eyes and voice and I just let out a whiny response, not able to think clearly as he pumped his finger carefully a few times before he let another join and I gripped his arm hard, my breathing hitched as he curled them and tickled that sweet spot inside of me. He paused for a second, scared that he’d hurt me from my sudden jolt, but I shook my head, “Don’t stop” I could only choke forth, feeling a bit pathetic with the fact that I was so far gone already. But he didn’t seem to mind, seeming proud that he’d put me in the state I was as he sighed and I could hear on his exhale that he smiled when I clenched around his fingers as he leaned down to press his tongue back on my cunt, still with his fingers deep inside me, crying out as my back arched off the bed from the combination of his licking and those devilish fingers working up a quicker pace inside me. I opened my eyes and realised my mistake the same moment I did so, meeting his eyes, seated between my legs like he was the only one meant to be there, his red hair tickled the inside of my thighs and I involuntarily clenched around him again, feeling myself standing at the edge faster than I wished. “Stop, I’m gonna come” “Then come baby” He groaned against me, but I refused and scooted back away from him, having other plans in mind. He actually groaned with disappointment as his fingers slid out of me again and I swallowed hard from the sound of it before I opened my eyes again, panting as I came down from the mountain I’d been climbing before I motioned for him to change place with me without using any words. “I… I want to give you some as well, just don’t… don’t move” I said, my voice unsteady and he gulped as I Ieaned down over him, his back on the bed now with his head against the pillows and I swallowed as excitement made my heart hammer hard in my ears and hands tremble slightly. I reached forward, seated between his legs and let my fingertips touch him through his underwear, a surprised gasp leaving his lips as he watched me, his hard cock leaking with pre-cum and my fingers travelled over the underside of his length before I cupped my hand over the head, feeling him twitch against my palm as he melted to putty at my touch, and my other hand soon joined to squeeze softly along the shaft. I rubbed softly along the bulging vein on the underside again, my touch a bit harder now and he twitched again, stomach clenching and I could feel how badly he just wanted to thrust into my hand, but he held back, doing as I wished and just stayed still. My eyes flicked from what I was doing, to his face as he bit his lip, cursed under his breath when I spread the wetness of pre-cum over the fabric, making the spot bigger and bigger. “Please” He begged finally, chest constricted and heaving hard from controlled breaths, lips pink from biting hard onto them and body flushed from arousal and I bit my own lip to stop a moan from escaping as I comply with his wishes and pulled down the underwear with one swift movement. It felt like I wanted to cry when I finally saw him, his cock large and heavy as it flopped back against his stomach, turned upward towards his belly button as soon as it sprung free. The tip an angry purplish red from my teasing and I inhaled sharply as it twitched happily when Hongjoong noticed my enticed stare. “Touch me, please” He begged, licking his dry lips and my eyes lingered on his for a few seconds, his hooded and pleading and I nodded, gulped hard as I felt arousal tick between my legs like an angry bomb, wanting nothing else than just give in and straddle his hips. But I promised myself to make this first time special. I wrapped my hand around him properly, finally, and watched with hooded eyes as Hongjoong’s closed, a deep moan left his lips as his head fell back against the pillows, his back arching slightly to thrust up into my hand, impatiently needy and not able to stop himself and I choked on my breath as I tugged on his length. Dipped my thumb into the slit and he writhed underneath my touch, my name falling from his lips like a mantra, begging me for more. I wanted to praise him for being so good, laid there, thighs shuddering as he took every shot and ripple of pleasure that ran through his body from my touch and I swallowed down the nervous feeling, never really enjoyed being the one so much in control when it came to sex. But something within this moment just screamed at me to take, to claim his pleasure and restrain it. “Darling?” I say as I loosen my grip slightly, “Uhu” He managed to answer, breathy pants escaping his lips, “Am I doing good?” He swallowed, rolled his eyes slightly, like he couldn’t believe what I was asking before he met my eyes again and bit his tongue, an encouraging nod made his hair whip and I smiled as I closed my hand harder around his cock again, beads of pre-cum coated my fingers. “Can I taste you?” I asked, my heart beat hard in my chest and he whined out a “Please, fuck baby, don’t even ask” I flicked out my tongue without another word, and I gave the head of his cock a kitten lick, finally salvaging his taste before I took the head into my mouth, let my jaw fall open and he cried out, twisting my sheets underneath him as I took him as far down as I could, choking slightly at the size and he buried one hand in my hair, showering me with praises as he tried with all his might not to thrust up, stomach clenching as I swallowed around him and I writhed, craving friction, feeling how I was basically dripping. “Wha-” He started as I suddenly let him go again but still pumped him with lazy movements though. I didn’t say a word, and only gave him a smile before I turned in a half circle, straddled his chest and pushed my cunt into his face, gasping slightly when his tongue flicked out to taste me again, without any question and I went back to his cock, took him into my mouth again and moaned when two fingers entered me, sending shivers through him when the vibrations of my moan made him shudder. It was hard to focus, with his tongue licking down between the lips of my cunt, dipping his tongue in to join his fingers and then moaning when I repaid him, deepthroating his cock as far as I could, feeling my eyes tearing up slightly and I focused on breathing through my nose instead. “Baby, I-” He moaned, choked a little as he stopped his movements and I let him go, a small pop from my mouth as his wet cock fell back on his stomach, “I need to be inside you, now” He said, almost like he ordered me and I bit my lip, sat back up and he turned me around with a tap on my hip, making me straddle him the other way, and he sighed before he sat up against the pillows, signalling for me to join him with a flick of his wrist. I sat down in his lap again, my legs on the side of his hips, chest flushed against his and captured his lips with a breathless gasp as he cupped my face with both hands, kissing me like my lips was the reason he breathed and I rolled my body against his, my skin prickling when my lower stomach pressed against his cock and he broke the kiss with a soft gasp. His hands came to rest on my neck as I raised myself up slightly, one hand on his cock and the other on his shoulder, stabilising myself as I guided him to my entrance and kept our eye contact as I impaled myself, agonizingly slowly to get used to the size and I couldn’t help but close my eyes when he was finally fully sheathed inside me, my forehead resting against his as we breathed the same air. “Stop clenching around me” He hissed forth between tight lips and I gasped, “I’m sorry, I just… I can’t help myself” I choked on my breath and tried to move, still adjusting to the size, just a little and his hands splayed on my back instead, making sure that I didn’t lose my balance as I shuddered and gripped his arm to keep him close. He placed a kiss on my shoulder and gripped me tighter, raising my body slightly as he hugged my frame, “You feel so good babe, so tight around my cock. I could stay like this forever, in your pulsating heat” He whispered, and my head fell back as I moved again, desperate for friction, my need for release so deep that it shook me. His hands travelled down to my ass and he helped me as I moved again, lifting me up almost completely before letting gravity do its thing and I fell back on his length again with a choked moan. He repeated the action and I pressed him close to me, trapped my boobs between our flushed chests, my arms around his neck and he nibbled my exposed throat again, “Tell me your mine” He said, knowing the answer but longing for confirmation anyway, before he swallowed hard, hands squeezing my ass and helped lifting my body again, and I choked on a breath, “I’m yours darling, I’m yours. Please, just… more, I need more” “More again? You’re so needy for me, huh?” He repeated, taking the request as a challenge and I swallowed hard before I met his eyes again, and a gasp left my lips from the diabolical fire burning in them. Before I knew it, I was on my back again and he pulled out completely before plunging even deeper into me and I gripped into him hard as he thrusted, setting a pace that made my body shake. My head fell back, and he kept his arms around the small of my back, letting me become putty in his arms as my back arched. “So good, fuck. You’re being so good to me” He gasped out in the crook of my neck, his hands travelled as he sat up slightly, placing one hand on the side of my face, kissed me with a breathless gasp and let the other hand close around my throat and my head fell back again as he pressed his thumb over my windpipe. He leaned back, watching me with a tilt on his head. Placed the hand that's been on my cheek around my waist instead, his fingers digging into the flesh there as he pounded into me, “You like this baby girl?” He asked, voice hoarse and husky, teeth biting into his lower lip as his gaze flicked from my eyes to his cock, “You like it with my hand wrapped around your throat? My cock disappearing within you like that” A shaky, controlled breath left his lips as he cursed, eyes straining as he gripped my throat tighter and I nodded, almost frantically, not able to find my voice to speak. A shaky inhale made his chest shudder as he watched himself disappear around the lips of my cunt over and over and over again, “God, I love you so much” He said, voice so full of affection that I choked on a gasp and his lips were on mine again, my mind cloudy with ecstasy as he moved with me, slowed down his movements for a short while, to just feel me, kissing me with the same warmth I’d come to crave, came to need to even be able to breathe properly, “Are you close?” He asked and I nodded again, clenched around him to tease him and his breath hitched, “Touch yourself then, I wanna feel you clench just like that when you cum” I swallowed hard and his hand moved to rest on my chest instead to stabilise himself as he snapped his hips even harder against mine and I choked on my breath when I pressed two fingers on my clit, tilted my hips down to make it more accessible and separated my legs even further, my head fell back as an even more intense pleasure shot through my body and I only had to rub for a few seconds, he was filling me up so much that it was impossible for me to stop myself, and I was gone awkwardly fast, my body tensing up as pleasure made my brain foggy, pulsing through my body like tidal waves crashing, and a breathless scream left my lips as my eyes glazed over, my hearing blew out and my fingers grew numb. Hongjoong swore as I clenched around him, hard, like I wanted to suck him into my body and he almost stilled his movements completely. “I… can I… cum inside you?” He choked and I nodded, “Please. Fill me up” He thrusted and I clenched around him, spurred him on even faster and my eyes teared over with emotion as I watched when he fell as well, tensing up and buttomed completely inside me, head falling back and breathy pants escaped his throat, and I moaned with satisfaction when I felt him twitching inside me, some of his cum spilling out before he was even finished, his body shuddering against me and I kept clenching, tried to keep it inside me as he pulled out, and he wet his lips before he bit down on it as he watched his creation, the way he’d wrecked my body completely. “Fuck baby” He whispered with admiration as I let go and let his cum ooze out, coating the lips of my cunt, and it was as if he couldn’t help himself as he reached forward to scoop some of it out of me and brought it to my lips. I licked his fingers clean and he sighed with hooded eyes before he leaned down to capture my lips again, tasting himself on me. - I woke up with him next to me that following morning, his naked body pressed onto mine and I reached forward to stroke my thumb over his cheek, happiness bubbling in my belly as I watched him. Knowing that he was mine and mine alone.

My utopia is literally a place where I don't have to feel overwhelmed and overpowered when trying to express myself professionally or emotionally, because of overbearing aggressive forces of masculine energy. I want to feel at peace when I am outside, and I don't want to feel threatened or violated. I don't want to feel like it's my responsibility to educate men to be better, because it's emotionally exhausting and I always find myself doing that when I'm hurt.

Okay, so the space I would imagine is the wild from Madagascar where alex goes like who's the cat Im the cat. And there would be no gender like no dicks or vaginas, And anyone could fall asleep anywhere without any fear, And it would be summer all the time And everyone minds their own business and are introverts somewhat Also the houses should be made of clear glass

Earth’s balance has been restored. We accommodate/conform to nature rather than dominate it. • Live music is played in every restaurant • Artistic expression is seen as essential to childhood development • Education is provided to all who seek it wherein history is taught from multiple perspectives, science is taught as tried and true, and language is taught as adaptable and ever-changing • Homelessness eradicated. • Plenty of public spaces where children can run around freely and people can gather without fear & without having to buy something • Dressing colorfully isn’t deemed unprofessional • We can communicate with animals which allows us to respect their space and autonomy 4. I guess my version of a utopia would look kind of like a combination of nature and modernist architecture (visually). Like a bunch of glass and wood buildings with trees. And some luscious as fuck gardens. I don’t know I was watching this thing on Japanese homes so I’m kinda obsessed with that right now.As far as the values of the society, I envision a utopia where education of all kinds is accessible to all people. And, it’s mad cheesy, I see it as a society where acceptance and respect have more value than wealth. Where all people are considered equal, yet everyone is able to laugh at their differences without hate behind it. I imagine there would only be public forms of transportation, excluding bikes and the like. Or we would have at least developed some super modern version of a car that doesn’t run on fuel. I don’t really know if I am doing this right? But I would just want it to look real sexy with lots of glass, modernist architecture and nature. As well as a high focus on providing equal opportunity for all people. Where money doesn’t get you the education that all people deserve. 5. My utopia is a beautiful jungle with all my best friends, mother, khalas and my sisters. We are able to talk to animals, and for some reason I’m imagining the hybridity between humans and animals so I’m half  tiger, like the one from fantasia. Our main goal in life is to discover the rest of the world at our own pace, so we are travellers. We go everywhere and visit the sites and places that already exist in the world but there is no one on earth besides us.  6.  My utopia would probably be a world where I’m completely alone ... I think that so much of my anxiety about living stems from an inability to feel a true connection to anyone or anything. Which I recognize is an internal problem, hence the isolating factor of this dream. When I think of inner peace I imagine my body floating in a pristine blue lagoon, held by the cusp of a mountain range. Everything is kaleidoscopic; the veil between worlds is thin enough to transcend each plane (my personal philosophy follows 7 planes of existence but you don’t need to make all of those lmao) if needed. What is important to me about this utopia is being able to exist without any kind of surveillance. There is no entry point to/for the other; it’s simply a place to play and experience the corporeal body as it is 7. I think my idea of a feminist Utopia is firstly very green. It’s tech heavy but in a very green space in a perfect future where the world fixed climate issues- it’s a really integrated system like you know that one green skyscraper that they’re gonna make? And i think it’s just very tender and the world is large but made of small moments if that makes sense There’s no rushing, there's a real focus on process as we have moved from a capitalist pace and everyone creates because it’s a human urge  8. My Utopia is my abuelitas house, where the candles are always lit and it always smells like a restaurant. My sister is doing everyone's birth charts and my abuelita is telling us ghost stories. The recurring dream I have of this scene is a more dimly lit space but with more colors and with my dog chocolate who recently died.  9. I want my Utopia to be all pink because that's the utopic color I’ve sort of planted in my consciousness. It’s not just pink, but rainbow. There are butterflies and animals everywhere. When you zoom out of it, it looks like a doll house but we can use the sims principle to build our own little worlds for ourselves. We can walk into the little blocks anytime we want and we all help each other build these worlds (only females)  10.  Venus flytrap that sucks in rapists, A sky where you can actually see the moon. Clean air maybe? A truck which transforms your plastic into wax crayons, Wonder woman belts and capes, Virtual Lenses that let me see my notes when I'm going through social anxiety, Nails that transform into weapons, Fecal-matter vibes for humans 11. The setting of my Utopia would be set in a South Asian setting with the busy streets and markets and the same architecture. I would like to add gothic architecture in my Utopia as well just because I always felt like I wanted to see how those two forms of architecture would mesh. Except I would want to see all of this as a cyberpunk scene with bright neon lights and space shuttles at all times. So women actually could walk freely at night in the midst of bright lights and escape into space anytime they would want to on the streets of India. I would want to live in a huge castle with my friends and wear jewelry and bright clothes. I would want men to live in my world actually, but I don't want to be in proximity with them? And they would just live their own lives but with ‘reversed oppressed roles’ hah 12. My Utopia is like that crazy mixture of lisa frank/barbie fairytopia and hot topic. Except I can talk to my cat and only my best friends and mom exist in it. There is also nature but also robots. You can see the moon and the stars at all times 13. Firstly I think feeding and farming takes up most of people’s physical labor and time. I think the only reason we work is to feed ourselves thrice a day and that is super unnecessary. I wish eating wasn’t a thing in my Utopia, just to get rid of that excess labor. I do want fruit trees and nature to exist though but each fruit would have its own healing powers that came with it. In this Utopia there would be a Matriarchy. I would want my Utopia to look like the Botticelli ‘Birth of Venus Painting. I want to live in huge seashells as houses. There is romance, love and friendships but there is no monogamy, because I think monogamy instantly makes any world dystopic. I think female friendships should be celebrated more than the romance between a man and woman in Utopias. If there is that kind of hetero bullshit mentality there should be no masculine and femnine traits that can affect those kind of relations despite not being monogamous. I would also want to have contact with the other planets in my utopia. 14. Probably definitely no men. I don’t really care if they exist and aren’t here or if they don’t exist i just don’t wanna see one unless i wanna ya kno? Also any homophone or terf or anything is immediately comically ejected out of the city like with a big spring. Actually, they’re ejected directly into a classroom that teaches them to be nice, they deserve a chance i mean what if they’re like 11. I don’t really have any specific aesthetic ideas of what it would look like. God id love to be able to walk around without fear, especially at night. But like aesthetically ya kno ya girl goth. I want drama i want pizazz. I want houses with two long staircases inside. I want ppl out on the streets looking like those fecal matter fashion ppl. Just some wack ass hunger games body mods bcuz when women r left alone i bet they’d all go crazy go stupid. I want the Winchester house with doors leading nowhere and staircases that go into the wall. Not to sound cliche but i looove gothic architecture. Like all the spikes and arches and tall tall spires. I also rlly love the concept of New Orleans. I imagine irl it isn’t how it is in my head but in my head it’s so soooky and magical. Just like witchcraft and vampires and everyone’s wearing silk and velvet or grunge clothes or like chunky sweaters. But just everything is so so old and haunted but the ghosts are nice and the cemeteries bang 15. In my Utopia I would like to walk into my office space without my male coworker making a sexual comment to my face without me giggling at it so I can keep my job and professionalism. I would like to be able to walk at night without thinking where I kept my pen to protect myself if someone attacks me. I would like to go out in NYC at night with my female friends without thinking I need to bring a male friend so he can shoo away the men who don’t let us dance on the dance floor. I would like to be friends with more males without having my brain tell me he might have a different intention with me. I would like to live in a world where if I tell someone I got abused they would believe me and understand I would have no reason to lie about it. Since it's not that simple I would like to live in a world with no men. Women would have tentacles that slapped them out of present day earth and we elevated as a human species where we have wings and our own thrones. The children are generated into angelic creatures where they co-exist with older people and there is no hierarchy. We finally get to live in a world which we deserve. 16.  My Utopia is our current day world. Except I wouldn’t want my life to fall under this capitalist framework. There is Utopian socialism in my world. Everyone works together and there is no racism, sexism or xenophobia. Basically remove everything that is wrong with our modern day systems which is almost everything so i feel like i shouldn't even go there but you get the gist. There is no poverty, no diseases, no homelessness. 17. There is death but from a young age we learn to lose our loved ones and hopefully no one in this utopia will have to go through losing a loved one. Trauma and pain do not exist. I guess men shouldn’t exist? But they should! and they should learn how to be emotionally intelligent without having their mother/partner teach them. There should be no gender identity or internalizing the incarnation of heterosexuality. There should be more queer people out on the streets, if heterosexuals can show public display of affection so can queer people (but honestly lets cut the part out where I said hetereos can show PDA). There should be more celebration of friendships. Lets romanticize friendships instead of monogamy. That's my utopia itself. I guess in terms of my personal Utopia I would still want to be in my marriage (if men do exist) but I would want the narrative of co-dependency to disappear. I think in Utopias I wouldn’t want to live in the same house as my husband, at least not at 28. I need more freedom and independence spatially and I’m slowly preaching how marriages don’t need to be codependent and people need to have their own spaces and practices if they want to reach their ultimate utopian space. (idk how you can show marriage as an institution lol) Visually there should be no high rise buildings, and I’m sure there's space for every person in the world to have a home regardless. I would want to see coconut trees, gardens, and lakes around me, and everyone should have space to run around, play and swim!! 18. My Utopia is in the landscape of what hell looks like on Betty Boop and Looney Toons cartoons. There are gates to hell and only abusive men walk through it as we all sit on our thrones and play the role of God. We all hold our tridents with our pets sitting next to us. My cat evolves into a wild panther and eats the men who don't cooperate alive. But the only reason hell exists is to reverse the roles now. Men face the abuse and oppression we and our mothers went through on planet earth. They have a microchip inserted in their brains and play out the roles of everyday women's realities. If they finally learn and understand they can finally go back to earth and try to be decent human beings. If they don’t they are stuck in the role of an oppressed woman their whole lives. The surprise guests in this hell are slave owners and the microchip is inserted in their brains so they can experience what slavery was like as a slave. If they learn from the experience they have the option to set those slaves free and if they don’t they will be incarnated (Octavia Butler whomst!!) 19. My Utopia is Cairo, in that cliche Egyptian setting except with rainbow pyramids and a little more cyber-punk esque. We live in a middle eastern matriarchy. We ride our magic camels. I want it to be techno futurist? So there is technology but we aren’t addicted to tik-tok and instagram for gods sake. I want there to be lakes and oceans where there are mermaids and sea creatures and right now i'm imagining a huge octopus in the middle of the ocean with our houses built on top of the octopus. 20. We are all beings that can either choose to be corporeal and have a physical body or just be a floating consciousness. We can switch in and out of these forms. 21. We can modify our bodies in any way we please just by thinking about it. If you want to be a squiggly plant thing or a fucking circle or a humanoid, it’s up to you.   We can talk to/communicate with ‘animals’ and we live in an interspecies society without species hierarchy. Nature first Or better yet, we are indistinguishable. Gender does not exist. Money doesn’t exist. Healthcare is based on kindness. Everyone goes through an hour of ego dissolution once a week.  When you die, you acquire all of the Universe’s knowledge 22. utopia is onenessinterconnectedness of all beingsi ask ‘what can i give’ all animate beings, of all types, shades of colorsfruitsbeachi can be as femme as i want without threats of sexual violenceno sexual violenceanimacy of every being is respected + sacredcolor color color color color coloremotional intelligence, taught and centeredrelationship with the land, grown and inherentlive of, live from, live with the landeveryone is teacher and studenthierarchy is ok, as long as for function, not powerguided by the logic of loveheld in the story of abundancecreativity is the fabric of the world, color is the threadlonging for collective liberation is the needleutopia is the potential of knowledge we all have inherent to usround and full possibilitiesutopia is lacking the language to say utopiabecause the english language was not designed for liberation pleasurable freedombut i know it includesmy grandmalogic of lovegood boogie any time day or nightpracticing abundancecolor always aboundtropical beach, tropical mountainsqueerness, indigeneityreciprocal relationshipsspaces to listen and see each other in fullnessnon harmingsex without shamepleasure in the everydayit’s possiblein utopiautopia is the wholeness of all beings, seen and respected,voice of all beings, heard and heldbeing over achievingcreating over controllingfreedom in spirityearning for expansion satisfied by internal growthgains made creative and wisdommultiple realities coexist and respect each otherchoices made out of ever expansive possibilities for the present and futurecollaborationspatial awarenessflexible physics, flexible materialityflexible and humble realitycross dimensionalno hierarchy of beingsi tell my friends i love them and i mean itmy friends ask me if i need anything and they mean itUtopia is I bodyevery interaction informed by the dramatic improbability that i am conscious and the delectable sweetness that i am able to witness the worldThe mountains and the forest and the waterfalls and the blooming flowersall liberatedNonviolence non-entitlement Empowerment, self actualization, tenderness Shadow self held, not castawayAlignment and ritual with the cycles of the seasons, the planetsembodied knowledgecollaboration above individualismall abilities sacrednothing can inflate or deflate self worthdiffering opinions can move in the same directionno one needs power over anotherplentiful food, water, time, energydaily sunset and sunrisespatial awareness rooted in wholeness, interconnectedness with other beingstaught how to hold fear’s hand and bring it along with ussensitivity, vulnerability as valuesflexible appearance

Defenders of Aura 2 - A Battle Century G Sequel

Session 6 (And we're back! Apologies in advance if some of this was kinda vague. Was suffering from insomnia at the time so my memory of the evening was hazy) After the feast at the naul enclave, each of us gets some time to ourselves. Lucis' player is absent, so he is off being a diplomat with the naul leaders. Spectre is sneaking around. This is not something he is typically known for. Razorinth is currently under the care of the naul healers who have sedated him in order to examine what made him go berserk and Spectre is infiltrating their med-bay. He uses some sort of sleeping gas bomb to knock out the healers and then pulls out a syringe, gaining a sample of some kind of fluid (blood?) from Razorinth before leaving. And the rest of us are like "What the-?". Something related to the secret message from his father? Elsewhere Sinclair is approached by several Nauls who ask him about himself. They've never met a human-made machine that gives off magical energies like him. They ask to perform some experiments on him. He agrees, though he sends a message to his allies about his location first. The mages ask him to test his powers by interacting with one of their organic computers. Sinclair admits he's only had training with human machines but he finds himself able to comunicate with the computer, albeit with difficulty. Naul computers don't run on code and getting one to do something is more like a negociation than a program. Sinclair attempts to find something else to try but fails some kind of intelligence test. The GM assures me he'll get further chances to look into his magic later. Fauna talks with the enclave elder. He tells her that her magic is more powerful than that of her peers, and he tells her she may one day take over from him. I'll be honest here, I forgot her response. I have a feeling that I was distracted while this conversation was happening. He talks about naul history, mentioning Nashari(?), a naul elder who was the first to share technology with the humans. She was banished for her crimes and ended up joining a team of human scientists. Katari is chasing someone, another naul, whom he confronts on a balcony overlooking a quieter part of the enclave. It seems this man was Katari's rival in the police force. I forgot his name, but he taunts Katari about his do-gooder nature and challenges him to a duel. Katari accepts and immediately throws a punch. He gets a hit in but the rival sticks him in the side with a blade of some kind. Katari starts to feel woozy and the rival makes a speech about the folly of fighting fair. Katari responds by barging him off the balcony. The man falls badly but Katari passes out before he can follow up. Minutes later, Katari wakes up not remembering anything about what just happened. After we regroup we are called back to the ship by President DeClair (finally remembered his name!). Currently we have little in the way of soldiers and resources. We're instucted to go down to the planet to meet with some of his contacts in the city of Camlan in order to secure some aid, even if it's from a less than reputable source. He gives us a list of requirements, including mercenaries, weapons, and custom made ship parts for the Argo, and a large amount of money. Camlan is also where Spectre's father's old lab is, so he's eager to investigate there. Some of the President's contacts have gone quiet since the coup and he also asks us to see if we can find them. In preparation for our mission we get fake IDs and need to dress so we don't stand out. Sinclair paints over his shiny armour with matte black. We take a shuttle to the city and land in the upper levels. This place is built as much vertically as horizontally and it seems the lower you go into the city the worse off things are. Naturally we'll be heading into the slums at the bottom for our mission. When we vacate the transport we are approached by a guard who asks for our papers. There's a long awkward wait as our fake IDs are checked. Eventually, the guard tells us we're all okay and can we please wait in the waiting room for a guide to come for us. We head inside but on a hunch Sinclair decides to hack the guard's radio. Guard: -if they're who I think they are we need backup. Get here quickly because I don't know how long we can hold them. Well, so much for our cover story. We look around for exits but there's only the main doors, sliding glass doors where the guard is standing. The other three walls are solid. Katari: Walls you say? ...What are they made out of? GM: Cheap concrete. Are you going to do what I think you're going to do. Katari: *big grin* Fauna: There's a glass door just there. The guard is on the other side, you can hit him on the way out! Katari: Sorry no, I need to smash the wall! The GM makes Katari roll an intellect check. A sucess allows him to remember that we are on the top floor of a very tall building and at least one of the 3 walls has a sheer drop on the other side. Katari buffs himself with strength magic and punches a hole through the back wall. It opens out onto a back street skyway but he didn't roll well enough to make a hole we can all climb through. The guard panics and backing away from us. Katari pucnhes a few more times, ruining his hand in the process but getting us out. We make a break for it over the skyway but the backup has already arrived and is now blocking our way. They order us to surrender. Katari: How far is it down from here? GM: Oh God. There's another alley way below you but it's a long drop. You might be able to survive with your power. Katari: ...How many people can I carry? Sinclair: Wait, I think that I can recalibrate my servos to take the fall. Then I can carry Spectre and you can take Fauna. GM: Yes! Why not!? This is a thing that's happening! Go ahead and roll! I hope you roll a 1! Sinclair: Yeah, me too. *rolls a 1* Hah! We jump. Katari rolls well thanks to his strength buff and he makes a crater in the ground as he lands. Fauna is looking rather green around the gills. Sinclair's 'Better Lucky Than Good' trait kicks in and the GM rules that he flubbed the calculations and ends up spinning upside down as he jumps but manages to land in a dumpster, cushioning the fall. Fauna: *trying to not throw up* Let's never do that again. Spectre: *dusts himself off, straightens tie* Let's go. Katari:  What. The guards seem reluctant to follow us down into the slums so we make our escape down into the depths of the city. We're kind of lost so Sinclair attempts to download a map of the area. Apparantly though, Google maps is not a thing here and instead he receives info on great locations to get penis enhancements and a list of Camelot princes who need to deposit large amounts of money in his bank account. As Sinclair runs a malware scan the others look for a guide to show us around. Spectre meets a young man who introduces himself as Justin and offers to help out a few strangers in need in exchange for a little "aid" of our own. One slightly too high payment later and he's escorting us to a bar where we might find some black market dealers. The bar is somewhat less seedy than we imagined. There are several well-dressed heavies hanging around watching us as we enter. On the far side of the bar there's a boxing ring set up where a female android is taking entrants to fight their champion. Spectre takes it upon himself to enter Katari in the match, acting as his manager. Justin mentions to us that buying a round at the bar will get us noticed by the right people, so Sinclair and Fauna head to the bar and do just that. While Katari heads to the ring, we are told that the owner would like to speak with us. Sinclair and Fauna sit down at a table with the owner, a man wearing a golden mask and walking with a cane. He introduces himself as Quentin Crisp. He asks us our business and we give him our "shopping list" of weapons and parts. When he asks us who we work for we play coy, telling him we just work for someone who isn't happy with the way this world is run at the moment. Crisp: Ah, Abbot DeClaire. I had a feeling he was still working behind the scenes. Sinclair: ...Oh, you're good. No wonder he told us to come to you. While we're talking, Katari wins his match with ease. Quentin Crisp congratulates us, telling us it was about time the champ got taken down as his matches were getting boring and predictable. He agrees to help us out, though it will take time to get the resources together. Spectre: As your manager I get 90% of your winnings by the way. Katari: The hell you do! This starts up a large argument. As Katari attempts to grab his winnings from Spectre, Sinclair sidles up to the android promoter. Sinclair: *shaking head* Fleshy types. Android: I know exactly what you mean. Once things have called down, we go to look for Victor's old lab. Much of the area has changed since he was last here, but eventually we get to a house that Spectre recognises. We march up to the door, which is a heavily sealed security door. It's too thick for even Katari to punch through and Spectre's acids don't react with it. Sinclair checks the retinal scanner but isn't confident of his ability to crack it without activating the alarm. This is high-tech even for this time. Fauna: *to Spectre* Why don't you try scanning yourself? Your father wanted you to come here, right? Surely he'd have made sure you'd be able to get through. Spectre: I don't know... After some hemming and hawing we eventually get Spectre to try the scanner. He steps up to it and lets it scan his eye. There's a long tense moment as we wait. Nothing happens. We're about to walk away when the door beeps and slides open. We head inside. The ground floor looks like a standard home. In the living room there's a single framed photo on the mantlepiece; a picture of Spectre when he was about 14, having just won some kind of award for science at school. Downstairs in the basement there is Victor's lab. It's a computer lab, with a few whiteboards covered in equations on the walls. We log in to the computers to find Victor's research. To Sinclair's horror, it's an absolute mess, with no folder structure and files named things like "123.doc". It will take ages to sort through, though we do find mentions of the Deitus cult that we fought back in the first campaign. The Ebon Order were fighting them and Victor was due to join with the Order the day before he vanished. ...To be continued. Bonus quotes: http://www.giantitp.com/forums/shows...&postcount=607 http://www.giantitp.com/forums/shows...&postcount=612

Volcanic Wonder: Hiking Congo’s Mount Nyiragongo

Climbing Mount Nyiragongo is a mythic quest that ends in a rare sighting of the world’s largest lava lake. | By Alicia Erickson

Adventure Democratic Republic of the Congo | POSTED ON: April 8, 2020

  Trekkers to Mount Nyiragongo have to make their way on treacherous lava-coated rocks. Photo by: Michael Runkel/robertharding/Dinodia Photo Library

A boat floats on the glassy waters of Lake Kivu at dusk. The moon is aglow and a fisherman casts his pole for the final catch of his day. My mind locks into this meditative scene, momentarily forgetting the worn-out city where I am staying: Goma, the capital of North Kivu province in the eastern part of Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC). Next morning, my friend Allison and I are to begin our trek to Mount Nyiragongo, an active volcano deep inside Virunga National Park, with the world’s largest lava lake.

Virunga, one of Africa’s oldest parks, is a mercurial landscape full of volcanoes, glaciers, savannahs, forests and Afro-alpine vegetation, all of which hold a rich cluster of wildlife within. This natural bounty has placed the park at the centre of a civil war for decades. Violence has endangered many species, in particular the mountain gorilla. In recent years, however, tourism has opened up, enabling visitors to trek to Mount Nyiragongo.

  From Goma to Virunga

We set out for Goma on a rainy November morning, anticipating a quick, hassle-free journey. Goma is most easily reached from Rwanda, where the closest international airport is located. As I was living in Kigali, Rwanda’s capital, at the time, I broke up my trip to Goma by stopping in Musanze, a Rwandan town in the North Kivu province near Volcanoes National Park, another region teeming with lakes, volcanoes, and wildlife.

The volcano last erupted in 2002, streaming through the city of Goma. Photo by: Yannick Tylle/Corbis Documentary/Getty Images

Forgetting that it was Umuganda—a national holiday falling on the last Saturday of every month, where Rwandans took up community service—our journey didn’t begin until noon. Delayed buses, torrential rains, cancelled visas, a handful of other complications, and many hours later, Allison and I had finally made it to Goma, which is in eastern DRC. Frank, our driver for the weekend, greeted us at the DRC-Rwanda border and navigated us through the city. We drove by an old airport littered with abandoned airplanes and through the town’s narrow streets cluttered with single-storey concrete buildings and buildings lined with coils of barbed wire. Congo is a place of survivors. Goma is gritty and rough, a testament to the years of warfare and instability that have ravaged its people. Yet there is a vibrancy that resides side by side with the chaos here. Streets are cluttered with aluminum shacks selling tropical fruits, bright kitenge fabric, and cell phone kiosks. Motorcycles honk and rev as they weave in and out of alleyways.

About 30 minutes later, we had made our way through Goma’s complex labyrinth to our home for the night, a peaceful enclave on Lake Kivu, just in time to watch the moon rise over its placid waters.

  Climbing Through the Rain

We wake up with the sunrise in anticipation of our climb. The skies are clear and the sun shines as Frank drives us towards Virunga. A nervous energy lingers as we approach Kibati Patrol Post, the starting point for our trek. Mount Nyiragongo’s last eruption was in 2002, the effects of which can still be seen in Goma and the national park.

Clockwise from top left: The volcano’s nightly eruptions are a prized sighting; Virunga National Park, where Mount Nyiragongo is located, hums with rare birds and animals; Hikers usually rest in metal cabins atop the mountain; Virunga is also the habitat of giant lobelias, common to forests in East Africa. Photos by: Yannick Tylle/Corbis Documentary/Getty mages (lava), Michele D’Amico supersky77/Moment/Getty Images (bird), De Agostini/P. Jaccod/De Agostini Editore/Dinodia Photo Library (plant), Kostyantyn Storozhenko/shutterstock (cabin)

A group of 10 eager climbers from different nations gather at Kibati along with a team of rangers armed with AK-47s, and porters carrying our food supplies. The hike starts at a gentle incline through rainforest terrain. Ahead of us, the volcano looms ominously. Behind us, the Great Rift Valley stretches for miles in thick green forested hills, extending west into the heart of the Congo and in the east towards Kenya. The sun shines bright as we take our first steps.

We have a long way to go. The hike starts at 6,525 feet and ascends to 11,382 feet over just a few kilometres. After the first rest point, the ground beneath us shifts to slippery volcanic rock. The terrain becomes increasingly uneven and challenging to navigate.

Within an hour, I can feel the first few drops of rain. At first, the light drizzle is a reprieve. But as it quickly turns into a torrential downpour, I long for the sweltering heat. Our ponchos and rain gear are well-intentioned but useless at this point. Water cascades down my face and backpack, while I scramble up the slippery escarpment. The higher we climb, the further the temperatures plummet. Time, temperature, sight—all start to blur together as I will one foot in front of the next, the volcano farthest of my preoccupations.

We huddle in a tin hut at the final resting point before the summit. The rain has subsided but I am soaking wet. Shivering uncontrollably, I curl into a ball to try and keep warm—a feeling that seems quite fleeting at the moment.

Between the summit and I is one last climb up vertical slopes entirely comprised of lava rock. With little traction and no clear path, I start to walk, hindered by the thick fog and the force of the wind. Soon, my chilled hands lose all sensation and I am unable to grip onto my walking stick. I methodically place one foot in front of the other as the campsite slowly draws closer.

  Transfixed by Lava

After another hour or so, I clamber up the last of the rocks to reach our home for the night. At the top, a dozen metal shacks are built into volcanic rubble for sleeping. Stripping off my wet clothes, I layer on every piece of warm, dry clothing I can and set off across the precarious volcanic rock to finally witness what we have come for. Over the edge of the rim, the lava lake comes into view, bubbling and sputtering from the crater a few hundred feet below.

Sub-freezing temperatures at the top can only be escaped by squeezing into the makeshift shack, where our dinner cooks and our clothes dry over a toasty fire. I periodically duck inside to warm up and listen to park rangers and guides recount stories.

“I would come up here every day if I could,” one park ranger muses.

Though they are in high spirits and won’t talk about it, I know these rangers have witnessed the violent invasion of the park and have lost more than one comrade in the fight to protect Virunga.

Once I seal the warmth in once more, I bundle up to make my next trip outside to marvel at the volcano.

“You are fortunate it rained so you can see,” our guide tells us. “Many people don’t get to see the lake clearly. This is nature, it is unpredictable.”

Clockwise from top left: Goma, capital of North Kivu in DRC, is a strife-torn city, afflicted by years of civil war; Rangers to Virunga are often armed to protect tourists; Lake Kivu is flanked by DRC and Rwanda on either side; The lava lake is sometimes blanketed by fog, hindering the wonderful view. Photos by: Great Pics – Ben Heine/shutterstock (market), Juan Alberto Casado/shutterstock (ranger), Chris Dennis Rosenberg/Moment Unreleased/Getty Images (camp), Ben Houdijk/shutterstock (lake)

Lucky does not quite capture the immensity of Mount Nyiragongo’s offerings. The night sky is tinted pale pink from the lava’s gold and orange flames. Rivulets of lava form an exquisite and complex tapestry, as ribbons of fog dance around the volcanic sphere. We stand as long as we can bear the numbing temperatures, mesmerised by the fiery mosaic.

  The Way Back

In the morning, we wake for sunrise and for one last peek at the lava, only to find ourselves enveloped by a blanket of fog. The lake, once vibrant in the dark of night, is now invisible. We pack and prepare for our inevitable departure, blindly forging our way down the mountain.

Descent proves to be more precarious than the ascent, the rocks slipping from under us as we carefully manoeuvre our way out to the slick forested slopes where our adventure began.

At the bottom, we wait for Frank to pick us up. “Pardon,” he slurs in his thick French-Congolese accent. “There was a protest in Goma today. Roads were blocked. Cars were burned. People were shot.”

Without warning, we are jolted from our nature-induced trance into reality. Here we stand, on the cusp of the two universes in the eastern Congo. One foot in the jungle and the other in the solemn world of political strife. As we drive away from Virunga, we are unsure of what adventures await us next in Goma. We hold onto the quiet from Mount Nyiragongo for as long as we can, not wanting to leave behind our wild escape yet.

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Getting There

Flights from Mumbai and Delhi to Kinhasa, the largest city in the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) usually require one or more layovers in the Middle East or Africa. Goma is a two-hour flight away from Kinhasa. Some visitors also fly into Kigali, the capital of Rwanda, which is a three-hour road trip from Goma. Treks to the summit of Mount Nyiragongo begin at the Kibati patrol post. Park rangers lead all treks and porters (unaffiliated with the park) are available for hire. Travellers need permits and must book treks or hiking tours in advance, which can be done through visitvirunga.org. 

  Visa

First-timers to DRC need to apply for a visa with minimum three months validity (Rs13,250) through the Democratic Republic of the Congo Embassy in Delhi.

  When to go

The best months to visit are from July to October.

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How world cities moving forward on climate change leave the US President behind

http://bit.ly/2vTnpuY

A partial map of all the cities which pledge to fight climate change, with or without Donald Trump. Global Convenant of Mayors/Google Earth

When US President Donald Trump announced that his country would be pulling out of the Paris agreement, the immediate reaction across the globe was one of despair, anger and helplessness.

The Paris agreement is widely seen as the last opportunity for the world to unite and limit the increase in global temperature to 2 degrees Celsius. How can this international agreement remain relevant when the world’s second-largest polluter chooses to remain outside its ambit and is not willing to be held responsible?

This wasn’t the first time that the United States has reneged on a climate deal. George W. Bush’s government had refused to ratify the Kyoto Protocol (1997), which proved to be the death knell for the agreement and international cooperation at large. An entire decade was wasted with countries sparring over who was really responsible for the mess we found ourselves in, until Paris.

But 20 years is a long time, and between Kyoto and Paris, we find ourselves living in a completely different geopolitical and economic global framework.

The good news is that this time around, there might be reasons to not despair. Within the climate diplomacy framework, cities led by powerful mayors are effectively asserting themselves like nation-states and showing themselves willing to act collectively.

City coalition for climate

Speaking at the press conference about the US withdrawal from the Paris agreement, President Trump declared that he was “elected to represent the citizens of Pittsburgh, not Paris. Within minutes of his speech, the mayor of Pittsburgh issued a statement reaffirming the city’s commitment to the Paris agreement.

He issued an executive order committing his city to the accord by continuing efforts to end the use of landfills, reduce energy consumption by half and develop a fossil fuel-free fleet of city vehicles.

Mayor Bill Peduto was not alone. All in all, 175 mayors (and counting) of the biggest cities across the country, cutting across party lines and representing 51 million Americans, reaffirmed their commitment to the Paris agreement.

On social media, #wearestillin quickly became viral while US mayors pledged their commitment to climate change on an eponymous website listing all supportive cities.

Since Trump’s decision to pull out, US states have jumped in. On June 6, Hawaii enacted legislation in support of its Paris commitments. The same day, California independently signed an accord with Germany, with the aim of empowering local communities to combat climate change.

Mayors from around the world reacted, pledging their support for the Paris agreement, often adorning their cities’ monuments with green lights.

Powerful, independent cities

This isn’t the first time that cities have found themselves at the centre stage of international politics. In fact, historically, most global cities have preceded their respective nation-states by over 5,000 years. But by the late 19th century, when the concept of the Westphalian sovereign nation-state developed in modern international relations, and countries became the main actors on the diplomatic stage, the political clout of cities diminished.

Over the last decade, this has changed significantly. For starters, some cities have grown so big that by virtue of their economic might, they’re now able to assert themselves independently. New York’s GDP (US$1.45 trillion) is larger than that of Spain (US$1.1 trillion) or South Korea (US$1.38 trillion).

São Paulo state in Brazil is wealthier than Argentina, Uruguay, Paraguay and Bolivia combined, and Guangdong in China is richer than Russia or Mexico.

Most big cities in the world have also been able to organise themselves under a common international forum, which only further enhances their bargaining power. Local Governments for Sustainability (ICLEI), United Cities and Local Governments (UCLG) or the Cities Climate Leadership Group (C40) are a few such examples.

These hybrid and often complex networks have been particularly successful in fostering innovative modes of cooperation between the private sector and cities.

The private insurance industry is working with several cities across the world to identify and quantify risks as well as design mitigation strategies and post-disaster financing instruments. It’s a win-win situation for both parties as the insurance industry helps develop cities’ climate resilience and, in return, gains access to new markets.

City diplomacy

Former New York mayor Michael Bloomberg is a strong proponent of this form of city diplomacy. He had once cheekily remarked:

We’re the level of government closest to the majority of the world’s people. We’re directly responsible for their well-being and their futures. So while nations talk, but too often drag their heels, cities act.

True to his word, within a few hours of President Trump’s press conference, Bloomberg had managed to organise a coalition through the Cities Climate Leadership Group (C40), which he chairs.

On June 2 2017, addressing a joint press conference with French President Emmanuel Macron at the Élysée Palace, Bloomberg assured the international community that the US will meet its Paris commitment, and through a partnership among cities, states, and businesses, will seek to remain part of the Paris agreement.

He went a step further and pledged US$15 million, the amount that the Bonn-based secretariat of the UN Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC) stands to lose as a result of Washington’s decision to pull out of the deal.

Accepting Bloomberg’s proposal, Christina Figueres of the UNFCCC has even promised to evolve a method for cities to be able to independently declare their Intended Nationally Determined Contributions (INDCs), a responsibility earlier reserved only for countries in the Paris agreement.

City leaders have also been active members of the 2016-founded Global covenant of mayors for climate and energy, an international alliance of mayors grouping 7,450 cities across the world dedicated to fighting climate change.

President Trump’s decision to pull out of the deal seems to have inspired action not just in American cities but also in the developing world.

The cost of climate change

Last week, India announced that it does not plan to build any new coal plants after 2022. It has also committed to generating 57% of its power through renewable sources by 2027, far exceeding its earlier target and three years before schedule.

Aided by a favourable market and falling technology costs, countries such as India and China are keen to assume global leadership.

Indian mayors are also particularly conscious of the financial cost of climate change. The 2015 floods that hit the southern state of Tamil Nadu and particularly the city of Chennai, caused a US$3 billion loss to the Indian economy. Chennai is now seeking to learn resilience strategies from other Indian cities that have faced similar disasters and adapted successfully.

One of them is Surat, in Gujarat, on the west coast of India. The industrial, fast-growing town has been severely affected by climate change. In the last decade, Surat has experienced over 23 floods as well as an outbreak of plague in 1994.

But the town has made great strides towards resilience. From building early warning response systems, mapping communities vulnerable to flooding, setting up a system of evacuation shelters, securing the electricity grid, preventing vector-borne diseases and groundwater management programs, Surat has been able to drastically reduce the effects of climate change-induced disasters.

Globally, since 2000, climate change disasters are estimated to have cost a whopping US$2.5 trillion. The case for clean energy, resilience and sustainability is increasingly an economic one rather than purely environmental.

Climate is cities’ responsibility

Cities have an added incentive and responsibility to act before it’s too late. Almost all of the world’s cities are dealing with one or more of the harmful effects of climate change. After all, 90% of the world’s urban areas are in proximity to coastal land, which puts most cities at risk of flooding due to rising sea levels. Cities also consume ⅔ of the world’s energy and are responsible for over 70% of global CO² emissions.

It is critical that cities have plans in place to deal with climate change and its effects, develop resilient infrastructure and have contingency plans for disaster recovery.

Former US president Barack Obama had committed to reducing US greenhouse gas emissions 26% to 28% by 2025, from their 2005 levels.

If the enthusiasm of the mayors over the last few weeks is anything to go by, President Trump’s decision to pull out of the Paris agreement only seems to have reinvigorated efforts, strengthened resolve and motivated local leadership to redouble efforts to tackle climate change. Some US mayors are even confident of bettering Obama’s commitment.

If cities, states, businesses, and civil society are able to work together and tap into networks of other cities while maintaining the right kind of momentum, Trump pulling the US out of the Paris deal might just turn out to be a blessing in disguise.

Nandan Sharalaya is funded by the Alexander von Humboldt Foundation and the Institute for Industrial Organization at WHU, Otto Beisheim School of Management.

Let’s Go Skate: Tommy Guerrero

Tommy Guerrero. Photo: Claudine Gossett

  In my earliest teens I had so many friends who I had no idea at the time were just a couple of years away from the end of their lives.  It felt like every year I lost another friend and skateboarding was what kept me out of the troublesome things that they had all gotten into.  Though my first deck was a Hosoi, the first deck I bought was a Powell Peralta Tommy Guerrero model.  Watching the Bones Brigade videos and reading the mags, guys like Tommy Guerrero were the ones I could relate to the most.  Skating the streets, hopping off of jump ramps, and just using curbs, ditches, and pretty much any terrain we could find, it always felt like Guerrero was the one Brigade member I wanted to emulate the most.  When I reached out to him, I had no idea that I’d actually hear back.  Though Guerrero literally helped shape my teens through his skating, he’s been a busy guy since that time and he never really seems to look back.  Co-founder of Real Skateboards, an accomplished and critically acclaimed musician, and former art director for Krooked Skateboards — under the Deluxe Distribution brand who distributes Spitfire Wheels, Thunder and Venture Trucks, as well as Krooked, Anti Hero, and Real Skateboards — Guerrero doesn’t ever seem to slow down.  It’s refreshing to see someone who just lives in the moment and who incorporates all of his past and his present into his future.  Free Press Houston was more than thrilled to sit down with him and talk about all he’s done, all he does, and all he has in the works for the future.

  Free Press Houston: You grew up in San Francisco where Thrasher is based, do you see San Francisco as the birthplace of street skating?  

You won the first street contest as an amateur, and you and Gonz both had pro models come out in 1985, but which one came out first?

Tommy Guerrero:  I don’t think San Francisco is the birthplace, but because of Thrasher being here they just reported on it more.  Things are happening simultaneously throughout the world, so who’s to say where the birthplace of street skating is.  We never really had a skatepark here after South Bay closed in 1980, so we just skated the streets cause’ that’s all we had.  Not many people in San Francisco have backyards or at least yards big enough for a ramp, so we skated street just based off of geography and necessity.  The terrain alone of San Fran made us ride street more than anything else.

Mark and I were the first to turn professional for street skating specifically, but I don’t know if his board came out before mine or not, so I don’t know who was first.  But you know, Lance [Mountain], [John] Lucero, and Neil [Blender] were all skating street before us.  They were just known more for vert skating.

  FPH:  I know you don’t really get nostalgic, but when you were doing the Bones Brigade stuff, as it was happening, did it seem as revolutionary as it became known for?

Guerrero: We weren’t conscious of it at the time, we were just skating.  Thrasher and Powell got behind it so hard, which is what really pushed it.  I mean, when things happen, you’re in the moment, so it didn’t seem revolutionary at all back then.

  FPH:  I’ve heard stories about skaters saying “Tommy bought us beers” or your (Mike) McGill smoking hash story.  I know the other guys were seen as “choir boys” by some of the other skaters of the time, but you guys drank and smoked out, right?  

Guerrero: No one did hard drugs, but we weren’t “choir boys” either.  Mostly just beer and occasionally weed, but that’s it.

FPH:  You and Jim [Thiebaud] started Real Skateboards in 1991, how big of a leap of faith was it to start your own brand back then?

Guerrero: It was huge.  We had no idea what we were doing in the beginning other than to just skate and stick to what we believed in.  Fausto [Vitello] and Eric Swenson gave us the money to order like our first 300 boards, or maybe it was 100, I forget.  Coming from Powell, I was paid off of royalties at a dollar a deck and that was it.  So coming into Real and taking a two thirds pay cut wasn’t easy, but I did it because I wanted to stay in skating for the rest of my life and it was important to do.  

  FPH:  You guys have a pretty stellar team including possibly one of the greatest street skaters currently riding, Dennis Busenitz.  I see Busenitz and you having a lot in common where you both are tying two eras together, have you ever seen that as a common thing between you two before?

Guerrero: I’ve never really seen that, but the guys today stand out in two big ways being that they’re so technical and that they’re so consistent with their tricks.  Some of these guys are gnarly and effortless in how they come up with different variations of tricks.  When we first learned kickflips, we figured there were about thirty different ways to do them,  These guys today blow me away with how they can just keep taking things to the next level.  Because so many of them came into skating so recently, their starting point is off the charts already.  It only makes sense that they’d have the green light to just go nuts with it.

  FPH:  I know you do art direction for the brands of Deluxe, do you still do graphics work or is it just taking what the artists work on and getting it to have the overall look that you want? Who’s idea was it to do the Trump deck?

Guerrero: I was doing Krooked hands on where Mark [Gonzales] would just send me the art and I’d handle the layout and the marketing of it all with the overall look and feel of the brand.  But the repetitive stress in my arms and in my hands along with being in front of the computer all day is not my place in this world.  So that all took a backseat years ago, and we have a really talented team of artists today.  So Jim will show me stuff and I’ll put in my two cents but that’s about it.  

Jim came up with that one.  He really likes to fuck with establishment.

  Tommy Guerrero in Japan. Photo: Claudine Gossett

  FPH:  Your grandfather was a jazz musician, you and your brother had a punk band that played with Bad Brains, DOA, and more; does it feel like music has helped shape who you are in more ways than one?

Guerrero: Yeah, completely.  Because skating and punk were still new back then with outcasts in both worlds.  With punk you didn’t need lessons, you didn’t need to learn “Louie Louie,” and you didn’t need a past in music, you just need that DIY energy.  When you’re a kid, when things are just fucked up, skating and punk back then were like saying, “fuck you” to the jocks and the people who beat you up.  Because when they’d come into our world, they were the outcasts, but we were the outcasts in the everyday world.  I can’t say this enough, but back then, skating was not cool.  The two worlds go hand in hand because skating and music are both built off of acceptance from your friends.  Music was another form of expression, and in a way, we’re all fuck ups.  But when you’re with your kind, things are just better.  Skaters see the world in a different way just in how we look at a red painted curb.  Every one else sees it as a red curb and that’s it, but a skater sees it as fun for hours.  We have seen friends die young while we grew up throwing ourselves into the ground for fun.  We’re different.  Not many people wanna’ fall down for a living.

  FPH:  Your solo work feels like my impression of who you are in everything you do.  There’s a flow to it, especially on this last solo album, 2015’s Perpetual where it feels like who you are in that moment while embodying the vibe of the bay area.  Is that the goal, for it to be a flowing entity that exists in that moment and time?

Guerrero: To be honest, a lot of the time I have an idea of how to approach it.  On that one, I wanted to steer away from making an album in front of a computer, moving wav files around.  So I bought an eight track Tascam, and worked within the limitations of what I had in front of me.  The album before that one was darker and less open, so I wanted something with a sixties drum machine, a floor tom, and a surf almost desert rock guitar sound.

  FPH:  The most recent album, Concrete Jungle from your group with Ray [Barbee] & Chuck [Treece], Blktop Project is all improvised correct?  Was that the plan from the start, to just go in and see what comes out?

Guerrero: We had a day and a half to record, because Ray is super busy, so we worked loosely on ideas and grooves.  We set up in a live room of the recording studio and the foundation of the album we did like it was a rehearsal.  We wrote a bunch on the spot, but that made it better I think because it was a challenge.  I go back and listen to it now and there are things on it that are really great moments.

  FPH:  I know you just toured Japan doing solo sets and DJ sets, do you see the DJ sets becoming something you’ll start doing on the regular?

Guerrero: I’ve been spinning records for a long time now.  I have a friend who has a killer record collection who lets me borrow things, and since I turned 45, I decided to only spin 45’s.  I don’t use a Serrato or anything, but I wanted the tour to have a party atmosphere.  So I did the solo sets with just me and some looper pedals.  I wanted to spin the 45’s with a social type of gathering where I could do something different to change it up and keep it interesting for me and the crowd.  Because I go there alot and I really just wanted it to be a different experience for them so I don’t wear out my welcome by coming back again and again and doing the same ol’ things.  I also wanted to challenge myself by mixing it up.

  FPH:  How did BS with TG become a thing?

Guerrero: I’d been talking about it for a while.  I love a good story, just BS ing with characters, especially skaters.  I love Steve Olson, and I’ve gotten to where I can get someone to just tell me story.  Originally I had planned to do it in a bar, you know how people will tell a bartender anything?  That’s the look I had in mind and I had a friend who was gonna’ let me use his bar, but it was complicated so I just got a camera and Frank [Gerwer] and we just did it.  He’s such a funny guy and so it made sense to use him for it.  It’s hard to have consistency because all of our videographers are all out shooting skaters.

  FPH:  Are there dream guests for you or is it just a shoot from the hip thing on who does it?

Guerrero: Well, I’ve kind of gotten them all already.  I mean getting Mark [Gonzales], everyone in the skate community knows that there’s no one else like Mark.  He’s such a good guy and I’ve seen him give people the shirt off of his back before, literally.  He’s so funny and he has such great stories, plus knowing for so long I’ve gotten to see him through all of the incarnations of his life. Back when he’d come to my mom’s house she’d even be like “your friend Mark is a funny guy.”  I mean, I got Natas [Kaupus], the white unicorn of skating who never does interviews, Eric Dressen and Tony [Hawk], too.  I’d like to get Neil [Blender] and I really wanna’ do Ed Templeton but I wanna’ go down to where he is to do it.  [John] Cardiel is someone else I’d like to interview and [Geoff] Rowley just because he does what he does and just doesn’t give a fuck.  I went and did that one with Matt Hensley and we didn’t really talk about Flogging Molly, so I’d like to do a second one with him.  I mean, there are too many people in our history that I’d like to do but I’m unprepared.  I’m so fucked and I’m not the most organized person.

  FPH:  You’ve lived a life under a lens, you come off as a guy who looks forwards and never backwards, but if you had the chance to go back and tell your younger self anything, what would it be?

Guerrero: Don’t be so stupid.

  It’s insane and inspiring that Tommy Guerrero never seems to stop.  Between recording albums, playing shows, and running a skateboard company he still has the time to live in the moment without ever looking back.  You can find Real Skateboards at pretty much any professional skate shop, you can find his solo albums and work with Blktop Project in all of the digital outlets, and you can catch new episodes of BS With TG here on Youtube.  While he’s not one to relish the “good ole days,” he definitely doesn’t look on all he’s done without humility and grace.  Possibly one of the most humble guys you could meet, he’s definitely someone to admire as much today as he was thirty years ago.  

Let’s Go Skate: Tommy Guerrero this is a repost

Volcanic Wonder: Hiking Congo’s Mount Nyiragongo

Climbing Mount Nyiragongo is a mythic quest that ends in a rare sighting of the world’s largest lava lake. | By Alicia Erickson

Adventure Democratic Republic of the Congo | POSTED ON: April 8, 2020

  Trekkers to Mount Nyiragongo have to make their way on treacherous lava-coated rocks. Photo by: Michael Runkel/robertharding/Dinodia Photo Library

A boat floats on the glassy waters of Lake Kivu at dusk. The moon is aglow and a fisherman casts his pole for the final catch of his day. My mind locks into this meditative scene, momentarily forgetting the worn-out city where I am staying: Goma, the capital of North Kivu province in the eastern part of Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC). Next morning, my friend Allison and I are to begin our trek to Mount Nyiragongo, an active volcano deep inside Virunga National Park, with the world’s largest lava lake.

Virunga, one of Africa’s oldest parks, is a mercurial landscape full of volcanoes, glaciers, savannahs, forests and Afro-alpine vegetation, all of which hold a rich cluster of wildlife within. This natural bounty has placed the park at the centre of a civil war for decades. Violence has endangered many species, in particular the mountain gorilla. In recent years, however, tourism has opened up, enabling visitors to trek to Mount Nyiragongo.

  From Goma to Virunga

We set out for Goma on a rainy November morning, anticipating a quick, hassle-free journey. Goma is most easily reached from Rwanda, where the closest international airport is located. As I was living in Kigali, Rwanda’s capital, at the time, I broke up my trip to Goma by stopping in Musanze, a Rwandan town in the North Kivu province near Volcanoes National Park, another region teeming with lakes, volcanoes, and wildlife.

The volcano last erupted in 2002, streaming through the city of Goma. Photo by: Yannick Tylle/Corbis Documentary/Getty Images

Forgetting that it was Umuganda—a national holiday falling on the last Saturday of every month, where Rwandans took up community service—our journey didn’t begin until noon. Delayed buses, torrential rains, cancelled visas, a handful of other complications, and many hours later, Allison and I had finally made it to Goma, which is in eastern DRC. Frank, our driver for the weekend, greeted us at the DRC-Rwanda border and navigated us through the city. We drove by an old airport littered with abandoned airplanes and through the town’s narrow streets cluttered with single-storey concrete buildings and buildings lined with coils of barbed wire. Congo is a place of survivors. Goma is gritty and rough, a testament to the years of warfare and instability that have ravaged its people. Yet there is a vibrancy that resides side by side with the chaos here. Streets are cluttered with aluminum shacks selling tropical fruits, bright kitenge fabric, and cell phone kiosks. Motorcycles honk and rev as they weave in and out of alleyways.

About 30 minutes later, we had made our way through Goma’s complex labyrinth to our home for the night, a peaceful enclave on Lake Kivu, just in time to watch the moon rise over its placid waters.

  Climbing Through the Rain

We wake up with the sunrise in anticipation of our climb. The skies are clear and the sun shines as Frank drives us towards Virunga. A nervous energy lingers as we approach Kibati Patrol Post, the starting point for our trek. Mount Nyiragongo’s last eruption was in 2002, the effects of which can still be seen in Goma and the national park.

Clockwise from top left: The volcano’s nightly eruptions are a prized sighting; Virunga National Park, where Mount Nyiragongo is located, hums with rare birds and animals; Hikers usually rest in metal cabins atop the mountain; Virunga is also the habitat of giant lobelias, common to forests in East Africa. Photos by: Yannick Tylle/Corbis Documentary/Getty mages (lava), Michele D’Amico supersky77/Moment/Getty Images (bird), De Agostini/P. Jaccod/De Agostini Editore/Dinodia Photo Library (plant), Kostyantyn Storozhenko/shutterstock (cabin)

A group of 10 eager climbers from different nations gather at Kibati along with a team of rangers armed with AK-47s, and porters carrying our food supplies. The hike starts at a gentle incline through rainforest terrain. Ahead of us, the volcano looms ominously. Behind us, the Great Rift Valley stretches for miles in thick green forested hills, extending west into the heart of the Congo and in the east towards Kenya. The sun shines bright as we take our first steps.

We have a long way to go. The hike starts at 6,525 feet and ascends to 11,382 feet over just a few kilometres. After the first rest point, the ground beneath us shifts to slippery volcanic rock. The terrain becomes increasingly uneven and challenging to navigate.

Within an hour, I can feel the first few drops of rain. At first, the light drizzle is a reprieve. But as it quickly turns into a torrential downpour, I long for the sweltering heat. Our ponchos and rain gear are well-intentioned but useless at this point. Water cascades down my face and backpack, while I scramble up the slippery escarpment. The higher we climb, the further the temperatures plummet. Time, temperature, sight—all start to blur together as I will one foot in front of the next, the volcano farthest of my preoccupations.

We huddle in a tin hut at the final resting point before the summit. The rain has subsided but I am soaking wet. Shivering uncontrollably, I curl into a ball to try and keep warm—a feeling that seems quite fleeting at the moment.

Between the summit and I is one last climb up vertical slopes entirely comprised of lava rock. With little traction and no clear path, I start to walk, hindered by the thick fog and the force of the wind. Soon, my chilled hands lose all sensation and I am unable to grip onto my walking stick. I methodically place one foot in front of the other as the campsite slowly draws closer.

  Transfixed by Lava

After another hour or so, I clamber up the last of the rocks to reach our home for the night. At the top, a dozen metal shacks are built into volcanic rubble for sleeping. Stripping off my wet clothes, I layer on every piece of warm, dry clothing I can and set off across the precarious volcanic rock to finally witness what we have come for. Over the edge of the rim, the lava lake comes into view, bubbling and sputtering from the crater a few hundred feet below.

Sub-freezing temperatures at the top can only be escaped by squeezing into the makeshift shack, where our dinner cooks and our clothes dry over a toasty fire. I periodically duck inside to warm up and listen to park rangers and guides recount stories.

“I would come up here every day if I could,” one park ranger muses.

Though they are in high spirits and won’t talk about it, I know these rangers have witnessed the violent invasion of the park and have lost more than one comrade in the fight to protect Virunga.

Once I seal the warmth in once more, I bundle up to make my next trip outside to marvel at the volcano.

“You are fortunate it rained so you can see,” our guide tells us. “Many people don’t get to see the lake clearly. This is nature, it is unpredictable.”

Clockwise from top left: Goma, capital of North Kivu in DRC, is a strife-torn city, afflicted by years of civil war; Rangers to Virunga are often armed to protect tourists; Lake Kivu is flanked by DRC and Rwanda on either side; The lava lake is sometimes blanketed by fog, hindering the wonderful view. Photos by: Great Pics – Ben Heine/shutterstock (market), Juan Alberto Casado/shutterstock (ranger), Chris Dennis Rosenberg/Moment Unreleased/Getty Images (camp), Ben Houdijk/shutterstock (lake)

Lucky does not quite capture the immensity of Mount Nyiragongo’s offerings. The night sky is tinted pale pink from the lava’s gold and orange flames. Rivulets of lava form an exquisite and complex tapestry, as ribbons of fog dance around the volcanic sphere. We stand as long as we can bear the numbing temperatures, mesmerised by the fiery mosaic.

  The Way Back

In the morning, we wake for sunrise and for one last peek at the lava, only to find ourselves enveloped by a blanket of fog. The lake, once vibrant in the dark of night, is now invisible. We pack and prepare for our inevitable departure, blindly forging our way down the mountain.

Descent proves to be more precarious than the ascent, the rocks slipping from under us as we carefully manoeuvre our way out to the slick forested slopes where our adventure began.

At the bottom, we wait for Frank to pick us up. “Pardon,” he slurs in his thick French-Congolese accent. “There was a protest in Goma today. Roads were blocked. Cars were burned. People were shot.”

Without warning, we are jolted from our nature-induced trance into reality. Here we stand, on the cusp of the two universes in the eastern Congo. One foot in the jungle and the other in the solemn world of political strife. As we drive away from Virunga, we are unsure of what adventures await us next in Goma. We hold onto the quiet from Mount Nyiragongo for as long as we can, not wanting to leave behind our wild escape yet.

  To subscribe to National Geographic Traveller India and National Geographic Magazine, head here.

Getting There

Flights from Mumbai and Delhi to Kinhasa, the largest city in the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) usually require one or more layovers in the Middle East or Africa. Goma is a two-hour flight away from Kinhasa. Some visitors also fly into Kigali, the capital of Rwanda, which is a three-hour road trip from Goma. Treks to the summit of Mount Nyiragongo begin at the Kibati patrol post. Park rangers lead all treks and porters (unaffiliated with the park) are available for hire. Travellers need permits and must book treks or hiking tours in advance, which can be done through visitvirunga.org. 

  Visa

First-timers to DRC need to apply for a visa with minimum three months validity (Rs13,250) through the Democratic Republic of the Congo Embassy in Delhi.

  When to go

The best months to visit are from July to October.

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Volcanic Wonder: Hiking Congo’s Mount Nyiragongo

Climbing Mount Nyiragongo is a mythic quest that ends in a rare sighting of the world’s largest lava lake. | By Alicia Erickson

Adventure Democratic Republic of the Congo | POSTED ON: April 8, 2020

  Trekkers to Mount Nyiragongo have to make their way on treacherous lava-coated rocks. Photo by: Michael Runkel/robertharding/Dinodia Photo Library

A boat floats on the glassy waters of Lake Kivu at dusk. The moon is aglow and a fisherman casts his pole for the final catch of his day. My mind locks into this meditative scene, momentarily forgetting the worn-out city where I am staying: Goma, the capital of North Kivu province in the eastern part of Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC). Next morning, my friend Allison and I are to begin our trek to Mount Nyiragongo, an active volcano deep inside Virunga National Park, with the world’s largest lava lake.

Virunga, one of Africa’s oldest parks, is a mercurial landscape full of volcanoes, glaciers, savannahs, forests and Afro-alpine vegetation, all of which hold a rich cluster of wildlife within. This natural bounty has placed the park at the centre of a civil war for decades. Violence has endangered many species, in particular the mountain gorilla. In recent years, however, tourism has opened up, enabling visitors to trek to Mount Nyiragongo.

  From Goma to Virunga

We set out for Goma on a rainy November morning, anticipating a quick, hassle-free journey. Goma is most easily reached from Rwanda, where the closest international airport is located. As I was living in Kigali, Rwanda’s capital, at the time, I broke up my trip to Goma by stopping in Musanze, a Rwandan town in the North Kivu province near Volcanoes National Park, another region teeming with lakes, volcanoes, and wildlife.

The volcano last erupted in 2002, streaming through the city of Goma. Photo by: Yannick Tylle/Corbis Documentary/Getty Images

Forgetting that it was Umuganda—a national holiday falling on the last Saturday of every month, where Rwandans took up community service—our journey didn’t begin until noon. Delayed buses, torrential rains, cancelled visas, a handful of other complications, and many hours later, Allison and I had finally made it to Goma, which is in eastern DRC. Frank, our driver for the weekend, greeted us at the DRC-Rwanda border and navigated us through the city. We drove by an old airport littered with abandoned airplanes and through the town’s narrow streets cluttered with single-storey concrete buildings and buildings lined with coils of barbed wire. Congo is a place of survivors. Goma is gritty and rough, a testament to the years of warfare and instability that have ravaged its people. Yet there is a vibrancy that resides side by side with the chaos here. Streets are cluttered with aluminum shacks selling tropical fruits, bright kitenge fabric, and cell phone kiosks. Motorcycles honk and rev as they weave in and out of alleyways.

About 30 minutes later, we had made our way through Goma’s complex labyrinth to our home for the night, a peaceful enclave on Lake Kivu, just in time to watch the moon rise over its placid waters.

  Climbing Through the Rain

We wake up with the sunrise in anticipation of our climb. The skies are clear and the sun shines as Frank drives us towards Virunga. A nervous energy lingers as we approach Kibati Patrol Post, the starting point for our trek. Mount Nyiragongo’s last eruption was in 2002, the effects of which can still be seen in Goma and the national park.

Clockwise from top left: The volcano’s nightly eruptions are a prized sighting; Virunga National Park, where Mount Nyiragongo is located, hums with rare birds and animals; Hikers usually rest in metal cabins atop the mountain; Virunga is also the habitat of giant lobelias, common to forests in East Africa. Photos by: Yannick Tylle/Corbis Documentary/Getty mages (lava), Michele D’Amico supersky77/Moment/Getty Images (bird), De Agostini/P. Jaccod/De Agostini Editore/Dinodia Photo Library (plant), Kostyantyn Storozhenko/shutterstock (cabin)

A group of 10 eager climbers from different nations gather at Kibati along with a team of rangers armed with AK-47s, and porters carrying our food supplies. The hike starts at a gentle incline through rainforest terrain. Ahead of us, the volcano looms ominously. Behind us, the Great Rift Valley stretches for miles in thick green forested hills, extending west into the heart of the Congo and in the east towards Kenya. The sun shines bright as we take our first steps.

We have a long way to go. The hike starts at 6,525 feet and ascends to 11,382 feet over just a few kilometres. After the first rest point, the ground beneath us shifts to slippery volcanic rock. The terrain becomes increasingly uneven and challenging to navigate.

Within an hour, I can feel the first few drops of rain. At first, the light drizzle is a reprieve. But as it quickly turns into a torrential downpour, I long for the sweltering heat. Our ponchos and rain gear are well-intentioned but useless at this point. Water cascades down my face and backpack, while I scramble up the slippery escarpment. The higher we climb, the further the temperatures plummet. Time, temperature, sight—all start to blur together as I will one foot in front of the next, the volcano farthest of my preoccupations.

We huddle in a tin hut at the final resting point before the summit. The rain has subsided but I am soaking wet. Shivering uncontrollably, I curl into a ball to try and keep warm—a feeling that seems quite fleeting at the moment.

Between the summit and I is one last climb up vertical slopes entirely comprised of lava rock. With little traction and no clear path, I start to walk, hindered by the thick fog and the force of the wind. Soon, my chilled hands lose all sensation and I am unable to grip onto my walking stick. I methodically place one foot in front of the other as the campsite slowly draws closer.

  Transfixed by Lava

After another hour or so, I clamber up the last of the rocks to reach our home for the night. At the top, a dozen metal shacks are built into volcanic rubble for sleeping. Stripping off my wet clothes, I layer on every piece of warm, dry clothing I can and set off across the precarious volcanic rock to finally witness what we have come for. Over the edge of the rim, the lava lake comes into view, bubbling and sputtering from the crater a few hundred feet below.

Sub-freezing temperatures at the top can only be escaped by squeezing into the makeshift shack, where our dinner cooks and our clothes dry over a toasty fire. I periodically duck inside to warm up and listen to park rangers and guides recount stories.

“I would come up here every day if I could,” one park ranger muses.

Though they are in high spirits and won’t talk about it, I know these rangers have witnessed the violent invasion of the park and have lost more than one comrade in the fight to protect Virunga.

Once I seal the warmth in once more, I bundle up to make my next trip outside to marvel at the volcano.

“You are fortunate it rained so you can see,” our guide tells us. “Many people don’t get to see the lake clearly. This is nature, it is unpredictable.”

Clockwise from top left: Goma, capital of North Kivu in DRC, is a strife-torn city, afflicted by years of civil war; Rangers to Virunga are often armed to protect tourists; Lake Kivu is flanked by DRC and Rwanda on either side; The lava lake is sometimes blanketed by fog, hindering the wonderful view. Photos by: Great Pics – Ben Heine/shutterstock (market), Juan Alberto Casado/shutterstock (ranger), Chris Dennis Rosenberg/Moment Unreleased/Getty Images (camp), Ben Houdijk/shutterstock (lake)

Lucky does not quite capture the immensity of Mount Nyiragongo’s offerings. The night sky is tinted pale pink from the lava’s gold and orange flames. Rivulets of lava form an exquisite and complex tapestry, as ribbons of fog dance around the volcanic sphere. We stand as long as we can bear the numbing temperatures, mesmerised by the fiery mosaic.

  The Way Back

In the morning, we wake for sunrise and for one last peek at the lava, only to find ourselves enveloped by a blanket of fog. The lake, once vibrant in the dark of night, is now invisible. We pack and prepare for our inevitable departure, blindly forging our way down the mountain.

Descent proves to be more precarious than the ascent, the rocks slipping from under us as we carefully manoeuvre our way out to the slick forested slopes where our adventure began.

At the bottom, we wait for Frank to pick us up. “Pardon,” he slurs in his thick French-Congolese accent. “There was a protest in Goma today. Roads were blocked. Cars were burned. People were shot.”

Without warning, we are jolted from our nature-induced trance into reality. Here we stand, on the cusp of the two universes in the eastern Congo. One foot in the jungle and the other in the solemn world of political strife. As we drive away from Virunga, we are unsure of what adventures await us next in Goma. We hold onto the quiet from Mount Nyiragongo for as long as we can, not wanting to leave behind our wild escape yet.

  To subscribe to National Geographic Traveller India and National Geographic Magazine, head here.

Getting There

Flights from Mumbai and Delhi to Kinhasa, the largest city in the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) usually require one or more layovers in the Middle East or Africa. Goma is a two-hour flight away from Kinhasa. Some visitors also fly into Kigali, the capital of Rwanda, which is a three-hour road trip from Goma. Treks to the summit of Mount Nyiragongo begin at the Kibati patrol post. Park rangers lead all treks and porters (unaffiliated with the park) are available for hire. Travellers need permits and must book treks or hiking tours in advance, which can be done through visitvirunga.org. 

  Visa

First-timers to DRC need to apply for a visa with minimum three months validity (Rs13,250) through the Democratic Republic of the Congo Embassy in Delhi.

  When to go

The best months to visit are from July to October.

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source http://cheaprtravels.com/volcanic-wonder-hiking-congos-mount-nyiragongo/