#plus i have a horrible track record with long pieces and chaptered things so to finish this really is such a feat
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lasciare suonare
chapter summary: the first song he writes after those months of silence is something he shows no one.
content warning: he beginning of this chapter delves a little into leo's downward spiral post-checkmate. there is one line where there's referenced self harm, but it's very much blink and you miss it.
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symphony masterpost
here on ao3
for the longest time, music followed leo wherever he went.
a symphony played in his head, the different sections melding flawlessly with each other to create a perfect harmony he’d hurry to scribble down before it left him. whatever he was writing with — pen, marker, pencil — would end up smudged along the side of his hand, a reminder of all that he was creating. the rhythm would rise and fall with the staccato of his heart or syncopated tapping of his feet or hands, whichever moved to keep the beat first.
his life was full of music and leo loved every second of it, whether it was shared with others or stayed a concert for only himself in his head or on paper. steady for as many years as he could remember, a tune would greet him as he woke and he could just as surely rely on another to send him off to sleep as a lullaby.
it was a constant, and a welcome one at that.
or it had been until leo woke one day only to feel like a soloist abandoned by the group, horribly out of tune with no one left to synchronize with. he was left alone with no one to catch him if he fell off beat, missing notes the longer he stood on center stage.
rather than a reliable thrum of a song in his head, a staff of notes behind his eyelids, leo’s world becomes silent for the first time in his life.
he isn’t sure what to do about it. there’s an uncomfortable quiet that grows the longer he skips school, the longer he stays in his room. so he tries to fix it the only way he knows how: by writing music, the one thing that’d never failed him before.
yet it doesn’t help. he can’t even get more than a few measures out after the first few tries.
leo loses count of how many hours he sits in front of blank pages, the clef symbols staring at him. mocking him. he tries to write, he really does, but every time his pen touches the paper, in the midst of writing a measure, whatever inspiration he’d had, if any at all, would float away, leaving him there again.
it leaves him feeling empty, as if a piece of him is missing. and maybe a piece of him really did get lost somewhere along the way, between the broken pieces of chess, backgammon, othello. knights.
he pulls his legs closer to his chest, hands faintly aching and bandaged, as he tries to ignore the crumpled papers around him, ignore the hollow in his chest and the ink smeared on the pages from tears of frustration. who knew something that had been as easy as breathing for him could turn into something that made him feel so hopeless.
there’s times when it feels as if this is where he’ll be stuck for the rest of time, locked in his room with the blinds drawn. he isn’t even sure what day it is anymore, but it’s not like that matters when he’d resigned himself to a life like this, no use to anyone if he couldn’t do the one thing he was good at.
leo buries his face in his knees. a pitiful little noise falling from his lips breaks the silence. he wishes things could go back to how they were once, back when he thought people loved him and his music, not just the latter.
when music chased him just as eagerly as how he chased it in return.
his music had brought people together once, hadn’t it? now it only feels as if it’s destroyed everything he ever cared about.
leo desired to be on stage once.
he wonders if that’ll every come back to him. after he’d gotten the first taste of performing for more than just ruka or their parents, leo had yearned to return to the stage, to stand under the spotlight and receive applause and praise for a live well done.
he wonders if he’ll ever return to those he left behind and hurt so badly before they could turn their backs on him first.
yet no matter how much he dreams to be free from these dragging, neverending days where nothing gets written and he feels further and further away from ever writing again, leo feels helpless.
so, his world remains quiet.
it takes time and a lot of it for the first tendrils of a song make their way through his mind, whispered and incredibly muted. those notes surprise leo so bad that they disappear once he focuses too hard on them.
he’s spent so long now, months maybe — he truthfully isn’t sure — being stuck in this rut, unable to form anything meaningful. the thought of this block that’s haunted him for all this time going away feels odd. the thought of being able to write a song again feels the same if he’s being honest, but leo misses that part of himself. the part that could love somebody so purely and write a song about that feeling without even a second thought.
while he remains the soloist left behind, he’s no longer so out of tune, no longer fighting his way through the measures on his own. it doesn’t feel so hard remembering a song that had been on the tip of his tongue but would never come out right.
the first song he writes after those months of silence is something he shows no one.
compared to his normal work — can he even call it that anymore when he hasn’t composed in so long? — it’s clumsy. for a self proclaimed genius, the song feels more like a beginner wrote it. of course, leo wouldn’t call it bad. it’s just… a bit messy is all.
when he puts his pen down after writing a finishing fermata over the last half note, leo stares at the music in front of him. it’s almost as if he doesn’t recognize it despite having been working on it for, at the very least, a few hours by now. his curtains no longer cover the windows and the sun had long set, though he hadn’t noticed at the time.
without warning and without trying, he begins to cry.
the past few days have been a bit of a whirlwind to say the least, from running into eichi and keito by pure chance to stepping back onto the stage for the first time in far too long thanks to madara’s gentle insistence.
he’d missed it.
he’d missed it so much .
not just performing or the applause or the wide smiles from those in the audience. he’d missed it all so bad that he’d forgotten at some point that he’d ever enjoyed that kind of thing in the first place.
leo’s hands cover his face though he’s alone in his room. the door’s cracked open, but it’s late enough that no one but him would be awake. “i did it,” he whispers.
he sniffles, wiping away the tears that seem to just keep falling with the heels of his palms. leo peers out from behind his hands as if the song would’ve disappeared in the brief moment he’d taken his eyes off of it.
unsurprisingly, the papers remain on his desk where he left them. there’s a few wet marks at the bottom from his tears, thankfully happy this time.
leo carefully grabs the song and holds it up in front of him. the notes remain just as he’d written them, meaning that as much as this moment felt like a dream, it’s not.
his lips pull up into a smile without him noticing at first. spinning in his chair, another tear rolls down leo’s cheek. what a sight he must be, smiling so wide while crying, but leo doesn’t care.
he’d written a song again. finally, finally written one again and it’s real and in his hands.
“i did it!”
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leo knows that the other knights have been planning a surprise for him.
he isn’t exactly sure what, but between hushed whispers and quickly hidden somethings whenever he happens to walk into one of their conversations, he knows there’s definitely something going on.
so, when he wakes up to nazuna’s bunny shifting in the bedding left out for him, leo springs up with maybe a little too much enthusiasm for someone who’s only slept for a few hours. if the papers scattered around his bed and now on the floor mean anything, he’d fallen asleep in the middle of writing a song.
of course, his sudden jolt up startles the rabbit, the poor little thing scampering around.
“oh, sorry,” he says, careful as he gets out of bed to crouch in front of where the rabbit’s hidden himself. “i didn’t mean to scare you, i’m just excited! it’s my birthday, y’know?”
all he gets in response is a little nose wiggle.
“hm, you’re right. i guess you wouldn’t know that.” leo hums, reaching his hand out to the bunny, stopping in front of his nose, which once again wiggles slightly as he stays tucked within his little hutch. just as nazuna showed him, leo gives the bunny a few light pets to the top of his head then stands.
the other two beds in the dorm are empty. leo thinks he’d registered that it was just him and the rabbit to some extent, but that at least explains why it’s so quiet in the room. still, it’s a little odd that neither of them are there seeing as it’s still golden week, but then again, natsume doesn’t even return to the dorm some days and leo’s pretty sure nazuna said something the other day about spending time with ra*bits.
or he thinks he remembers nazuna saying that. either way, he decides, it doesn’t matter much.
the only thing is that without either of his dormmates, he has no real way to gauge what time it is. the sunlight coming in through the windows also helps him none, so he stars to search for his phone. luckily it doesn’t take long to spot it as he moves his blanket around.
grabbing it from where it sits poking out from under his bed, leo finds that it’s a bit later than he thought it was. that meant he’d slept longer than he thought he had, though it’s still the middle of the morning.
his notifications are filled with birthday messages and well wishes which only make him laugh a little, pleased at them all.
now that he’s seen the time, leo’s sure he has plenty to finish the song he’d been working on last night; the agency party anzu planned wouldn’t be until later and per knights tradition, their own small gathering is still a couple hours out.
looking forward to finding out what they’ve been hiding helps his inspiration return, so he hastily hops back onto his bed in search of his pencil, which he finds a lot easier than his phone. despite this, he doesn’t get very far back into the song when there’s a knock at the door.
leo ignores it at first, at least aware of it, but he makes no move to answer as he’s in the middle of a crescendoed section and he wants to get the build up perfect before he’s interrupted.
the knock returns, this time with a voice accompanying it. “leo-san, are you here?”
that catches his attention.
reluctantly, leo leaves the piece on his bed and opens his door. “suo, what’re you doing here?”
“did you not see my messages ?”
leo simply blinks at him. “no.”
tsukasa sighs. “i don’t know why i expected anything different,” he says. “well, i’ve come to escort you to your party .”
“wait, i thought that wasn’t ‘till later.”
“i’ve been sent to retrieve you early.”
leo doesn’t quite buy it, narrowing his eyes. tsukasa has never been a good liar, but he sees no reason to continue questioning him. he’d been looking forward to his birthday to see whatever this surprise is and if they’ve sent tsukasa to bring him, then it has to be something big, right?
“okay! lemme get ready first though,” he says. leo only catches it out of the corner of his eye as he turns back into his room, but he’s pretty sure tsukasa’s shoulders lose some of the tension in them. he motions for tsukasa to follow him. “here, you can look at this, it’s not done yet.”
tsukasa takes the song offered to him, placing himself awkwardly on the edge of leo’s unmade bed. “is it a new knights song?”
leo shrugs as he looks through his clothes. “could be, i think it’ll fit.”
tsukasa doesn’t reply, most likely looking it over as leo continues looking.
ever the stickler when it came to fashion, izumi had taken him shopping when they were in florence, saying that if the two of them happened to be out together, it would be best for their outfits not to clash.
leo doesn’t really see the issue, but he went along with it anyway even though he knows any shopping trip with izumi is him picking out far too many things to send leo off to a dressing room to try them all on. in the end, they — more izumi than leo, but he did at least take leo’s opinion into account — managed to narrow down their choices to one outfit that izumi said to consider as a birthday gift.
and if that’s the case, then there’s no better time to wear it than now, right?
speaking of izumi, he’d most definitely nag leo if he shows up with unbrushed hair, so leo makes sure to do that next. he’s been lectured about his unkempt hair plenty of times, but still, it’s really not his fault when he gets inspired and sucked into his next composition to remember do those kinds of things.
the flipping of pages fills the air.
“i think so too. we can discuss it more later,” tsukasa agrees once he’s finished looking through the unfinished composition. “are you ready to go, leo-san?”
just having finished retying his hair, leo says, “mmhm! ready, suo.”
tsukasa returns the song neatly stacked back to the bed as he stands. “then, let’s set off. i don’t wish to leave the others waiting for long.”
leo nods in agreement, more than eager to see whatever they had planned for him. he sets his hands on tsukasa’s shoulders and pushes him towards the door. ignoring tsukasa’s protests at being handled in such a way, leo says, “bye, bunny,” glancing back at the play area where the rabbit lay sleeping as he shuts the door behind them.
leo waits until they step out of the dorm building to ask, “what’s the surprise?”
tsukasa splutters slightly. “what surprise ?”
knowing that tsukasa has more likely than not been sworn to secrecy, leo figures he won’t give anything up. he’ll try his luck a little more anyway. “y’know, the thing you guys would hide whenever i showed up.”
tsukasa very clearly is avoiding his gaze when leo looks over at him. “i’m afraid i don’t know what you’re talking about.”
leo can’t help but laugh at that. “you really are bad at lying, suo!”
that earns him an offended gasp. “the point of a surprise , leo-san, is that it stays a secret ,” he defends.
“so, does that mean there is one?” leo presses.
“i’m not answering that.”
leo gives an amused hum to that.
tsukasa levels him with a tired stare. “please, no more questions . you’ll find out soon enough.”
content enough with that, leo nods and stays quiet even once they reach the building and step into the elevator to go up to newdi’s floor. while on the elevator, tsukasa takes out his phone and types out something that leo can’t make out from the corner of his eyes, trying to make it not obvious that he’s trying to cheat his way into knowing early.
the elevator dings once it reaches the correct floor and leo asks, “is it the same room as normal?” likely thanks to tsumugi doing the boring administrative work in the agency and taking into account leo’s multiple complaints about getting lost in the building, most knights meetings between the five of them tend to be in the same conference room.
“yes,” tsukasa replies, his phone dinging in his hand. “but we’ll have to wait a moment .”
the elevator doors open and leo considers his options. he could do as tsukasa said and wait, but he’d been waiting for way too long now. he wanted to see what they’d been keeping from him, so as they step out onto the floor, leo runs off down the hall in the direction of their conference room.
“leo-san!” tsukasa yells after him.
leo, of course, doesn’t stop. he instead bursts into the room and says, “hi, guys!”
rather than getting an equally enthusiastic greeting, he finds three pairs of eyes on him as tsukasa catches up.
“kasa-kun, i thought you said you could distract him,” izumi says.
tsukasa purses his lips. “i thought i could,” he objects. “but he knew we were planning something, so he ran ahead of me.”
“don’t blame our darling child, secchan,” ritsu cuts in from where he’s setting up what looks like a cake at the end of the table. per usual fashion, the decorations on it are a bit grotesque, but in a fun way. “we all know how free spirited tsukipi is.”
“is that what we’re calling it?” izumi mutters.
arashi waves her hand dismissively, ignoring izumi as she says, “well, it doesn’t matter now, does it? we’re pretty much done setting things up, so it doesn’t hurt to start things a little early.”
leo, though he doesn’t really get what they’re setting up for in the first place since the birthdays they spend together are hardly planned things, nods eagerly. “exactly, naru gets it!”
that gets him an eye roll from izumi.
ritsu, apparently pleased with the placement of his cake, joins izumi and arashi. “i’m all done, so we can start now. i think tsukipi might jump at us if we don’t get to it soon.”
leo bounces on the balls of his feet. “see, i knew you guys were planning something!”
ritsu smiles at that. “you could put it like that.” his gaze shifts to tsukasa and gives him a brief nod.
tsukasa leaves leo’s side and pulls a chair out from the table, turning it so the back is now to the table. “sit, leo-san,” tsukasa says.
leo eyes him curiously but does so anyway. whatever it is they’d been planning has been going on for at least two weeks since that’s when he started noticing them hiding things, so to say he’s excited to be only moments away from seeing what they’d been up to is a bit of an understatement.
tsukasa joins the others as they move to stand in front of leo. arashi looks over ritsu’s shoulder as he searches on his phone for something.
izumi’s eyes catch his. “we spent a long time on this, so you better like it, leo-kun.”
“i’ll love anything you guys give me,” he replies easily.
arashi giggles, glancing up at him. “izumi-chan’s just prickly ‘cause he’s the one who suggested we do this in the first place.”
at that, izumi conveniently looks over to ritsu when leo’s gaze falls on him once more. “can you just start it already?”
ritsu looks up from his phone, an amused little smile pulling at his lips. though rather than the teasing the normally accompanies that look, he simply says, “yeah, yeah, secchan. i just wanted to make sure it was the finished version.”
“then are we ready to begin ?” tsukasa asks on arashi’s other side.
“mmhm.” ritsu nods. he presses something on his phone then hands it to leo. “here, hold this for me.”
leo accepts the phone as the four of them align themselves in front of him. it takes a few seconds, but notes played on piano make their way from ritsu’s phone. the song doesn’t sound familiar, though leo can recognize the playing style as ritsu’s. he taps the screen only for the track remain untitled.
it’s not until the begin singing that he realizes that they’ve written him a song.
for a brief couple of seconds, all he can think of is that they wrote him a song for his birthday. the joy he feels at that is something he could never hope to put into words. a wide smile makes its way across his face as the performance continues.
while the song itself seems finished when it comes to the score and the lyrics — he very easily recognizes the latter as being written by izumi, though he can’t tell if he’s imagining ruka’s influence in certain lines or not — the choreography seems like it was thrown together last minute. it’s nowhere near as polished as their normal dancing, but leo figures it would be hard to schedule practice for this without him noticing around their normal practice.
still, he isn’t about to complain; he’d never complain when someone would give him a gift as nice and thoughtful as a song.
the tune itself is charming, pleasant to the ears, but it’s not like he expected anything less from them. after all, he likes to believe the time spent together rubbed off some of his musical genius onto them, but that would be severely discounting the talent each of them has.
leo finds himself swaying along with the beat, trying to capture and absorb as much of this moment as he can, though it’s hard to pay attention to the chords and the lyrics and the choreo all at once in this first listen.
before he knows it, the song is over. it continues on in his head once the recording ends, the four of them coming together and holding their final pose briefly.
“leo-san?” tsukasa says, falling out of order first. there’s a certain edge of worry in his voice that leo doesn’t quite understand until he blinks and his vision goes watery. he doesn’t even know when he started crying; leo just feels so happy. more tears fall.
leo swipes at his eyes, ducking his head down slightly to do so. “how embarrassing,” he mumbles.
“it wasn’t that bad, right?” izumi asks, a tinge of concern leaking in.
he laughs then sniffles. “no, it was perfect,” he says. “i loved it.”
as he looks back up at them, leo sees the concern on arashi’s face fall mostly away as she quietly sighs. “are you sure you’re okay?” she asks.
he nods. “i’m sure,” leo says, though he’s not sure how reassuring that is when more tears fall even as he wills them to stop. “i just wasn’t expecting that. i’m just so happy.” he rubs a few more tears away.
tsukasa, despite the worry clear on his face, looks a bit proud at that. “see, i told you that he wouldn’t expect a song .”
needing to show his appreciation, leo stands, sleeves coming away damp as he wipes at his eyes. the four of them say nothing, simply watch as he nears just for him to hug whoever happens to be the closest, which happens to be arashi. she lets out a quiet noise of surprise, but her arms fall around him easily to return it.
it doesn’t take long for the other three to join in the hug, even if there’s some quiet bickering about it.
leo feels so warm there in the hold of four of his closest friends, protected and comforted by them all at once.
they’d written him a song . he still couldn’t believe it.
“thank you,” he says. a hand brushes over his hair. he can’t tell whose it is, but it doesn’t really matter.
“of course, tsukipi,” ritsu says by his left ear.
leo wants to say so many things, wants to write so many songs now that he’s received one of his own. it’s such a new experience that he isn’t sure what to make of it all yet. he wants to ask what writing it was like, how each step of it went. he’s almost a little upset they didn’t ask him for any advice, but that would’ve ruined the surprise before it even began.
he wants to ask them for an encore and then another and another until he memorizes it all by heart.
even so, leo knows that he’ll have plenty of time to ask all the questions bouncing around in his head and then some, so he settles for saying, “i love you guys so much,” and hopes that’s enough to get the message across.
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end notes: i was between two different titles but decided to go with this one in the end. lasciare suonare means allowing a sound to continue (to "let ring") without dampening it. in the past, leo's sound was dampened, but he was able to move through that into where he is now where his music is allowed to continue on, ringing loud and clear. symphony, the title of this fic, refers to a piece that is typically in four movements.
happy leo day!! being done with posting this feels so weird. leo means a lot to me and i'm glad to have been able to put all of that into words for these past five chapters. thank u for sticking around until the end <33 i was already sappy about this ending on twt so i'll spare you all from that but i hope you liked it.
#my fics#symphony#leo tsukinaga#arashi narukami#izumi sena#ritsu sakuma#tsukasa suou#i really am so attached to this fic it's not even funny#and i am really proud of it#i had these couple of months where i really didn't feel like i would write anything again#everything i wrote i hated and that was if i could get myself to write anything#so to end up writing this nearly a year after that really does make me so 🥹#plus i have a horrible track record with long pieces and chaptered things so to finish this really is such a feat#fr an anything for you leo kind of moment laskhdg#and posting it like this is making me feel all of that i felt when i was originally posting it all over again#happy leo debut day everyone 🎉
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whiskey chapter uhhhhh 36
His first mission with the IMC goes horribly. He can’t say he’s all that surprised, given his track record so far in life. It’s still unknown to him and everyone else how he made it through basic training. But he did, and here he is--should he feel some sort of excitement, here? His first injury out on the field. Taube’s first screw-up of many, he supposes.
His dominant arm is cradled against his chest and he can feel blood oozing onto the fabric of his gear from the bullet wound. He can also feel the sharp, grinding pain of broken bone-ends grinding against each other.
The feeling of eyes digging into him keeps him decidedly glaring into the floor. He refuses to meet anyone’s eyes, not even the medic’s as he’s tinkered with. Another IMC grunt stands guard at the door. While it feels like their gaze is more empathic and concerned, he resolutely ignores them as well. He doesn’t need to be pitied. If anything, he needs to be taught a lesson.
“Is he gonna be okay?” the guard at the door asks. Of course they’d be “concerned” about his well-being. If he were to be out of the field for too long, it would be another body out of work that could be instead helping the IMC with its work.
And, really, that’s all he’s good for at this point.
“He’s fine,” the doctor says bluntly, digging a piece of shrapnel out of Taube’s bicep and making him wince. “He’ll recover. This is far from the more serious injuries I’ve dealt with, and it’s also one of the dumber ones.”
He feels his face heat under the passive assault. He can tangibly feel his brows furrowing together further as he glares harder at the floor.
“It was a mistake,” the guard counters. “Everyone makes mistakes, doc.”
“Not everyone gets injured by their shitty mistakes, soldier.” Out of the corner of his eye, Taube sees the medic look directly at the guard and dare him to speak further.
“I mean, I’m sure I have at the very least.” He swears he hears a hint of teasing in the words. “Heaven knows you’ve had to stitch me back together from stupider things.”
“Which is precisely why it needs to be wrung out of a person.” He feels a harsh jolt on his shoulder, grabbing his attention. “Isn’t that right?”
“Yeah.” His eyes fall to the side. “It won’t happen again.”
“Don’t lie to my face. I’m not an idiot.” The medic’s voice is harsh again. “With the way you’re acting, I’ll be expecting another visit very soon.” He pushes the little stool he’s stooped over back and away from Taube, rising to his feet. “Both of you. Get out. Don’t come back.”
Meekly, he takes the medic’s words to heart. He rises silently, arm now wrapped in gauze and medical tape and stuck at a crooked angle, approaching the door. He desperately hopes the guard won’t speak to him on his way back to his bunk.
“Don’t take anything that guy said too seriously,” the guard says as soon as the door is shut behind them. Taube bites down a groan and keeps walking. Unfortunately, the guard is able to keep up with him. “Everyone here is a hardass. They take it competitively, it feels like.”
Taube doesn’t respond, focusing on his footsteps as they make their way through the halls.
“You’re new, right?” The guard continues to chitter. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before. ‘Course, that doesn’t really say much in terms of things. This place would hire damn near anyone if it meant they’d do what they asked.”
Surprise jolts through him. Why is this guy so openly speaking against the corporation that not-so-subtly made people that did so disappear without notice? “You’re stupid for saying that,” he mutters over his shoulder.
“This whole place is stupid,” the guard chuckles. “The higher-ups get a little too pissy when someone doesn’t kiss their boots the right way.” The guard bumps Taube’s shoulders with his own. “Plus, it’s only frowned upon if you get caught doing it.”
“It’s still stupid.”
“And why is that?”
“I mean, this place took us in, gave us jobs and shelter and all that. Why trash it?”
“‘Why trash it?’” the other echoes, seemingly stunned. “Have you heard of the shit this corporation does to get what it wants? War crimes upon war crimes, stacked on top of even more war crimes. The only reason people don’t speak out about it is because another war crime will be committed to keep them silent.”
“You really feel that way?”
“Absolutely. I wouldn’t be here if I had a choice.”
“So, why stay?”
“Taube, you think they’ll let me go if I defect? You think they’re just gonna let someone rumored to talk about the shitty side of things with his cohorts get away out into the world to keep jabbering?”
A pause. “No, not really.”
“That’s why I’m still here.” He hears the other man heave a sigh that sounds entirely too weary for someone his age. The guard is suddenly right next to him, crowding into his space respectively, but still close. “Always thought about it, though. Getting the hell out of here would be paradise.”
“Even as a whistleblower?”
“Even as a whistleblower. Not gonna waste my freedom knowing there’s awful things going on that I could do something about. They wouldn't be able to keep me shut down, even if the public begged me to shut up.”
Finally, he meets the man’s eyes. “That’s very noble. Stupid as hell, but noble.”
“It’s not about being noble,” the guard waves a hand dismissively. “It’s about doing the right thing.”
“Of course.” They pause outside Taube’s bunk, awkwardly hanging before the door. “Well, this is my stop.” Before he turns away, he adds, “Thank you for the company. You didn’t have to. But it was nice.”
“Nobody has to do anything if they really don’t want to. Just might end up dead with certain things.” The guard winks at him, then holds out a hand. “MacAllan. James MacAllan.”
Awkwardly, Taube reaches out with his left hand. “Robert Taube.”
“Nice to meet you. You’ll stay low about my ranting, will you? Just made a good friend, wouldn’t want him to get lonely without me being there because the officials caught wind.” A smile splits his face, honest and genuine.
“What ranting?” Taube smirks back at him. “All I heard was us talking about the glory of this place.”
MacAllan snorts and claps a hand on Taube’s good shoulder.”Good man.”
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Finding the Time to Study Fic 2 [Day 6]
Here is my starting post for today’s study break stories session. See this post for more details and feel free to send me asks to keep me going! It’s been a lot of fun so far! I will reblog this post with the story as I write them today. I’ll be constantly looking for ideas of times and places for Janus to have missions, so feel free to send in any you can think of at any point!
If you are a new follower or just don’t want all of these posts clogging your dash, please feel free to block the tag “study break stories” as all posts and voting about it will go there. You can still see the finished product of the story even if you are blocking that tag as I will not tag the edited chapters with “study break stories” but with the (TBD) name of the fic.
Chapter 1, chapter 2, and chapter 3 are under the cut.
I don’t have too much to do today, so this’ll be shorter.
Set Up
Chapter 1
The words in front of him seemed to squirm back and forth across the screen as he watched, despite the fact that he’d bought this screen to prevent that exact thing from happening. The ‘d’s and ‘p’s and ‘b’s seemed to blur together into a sludge of incomprehensible nonsense, just like the voices around him seemed to. He wasn’t quite sure how long he’d sat there staring at this report. Time itself seemed almost like the words and the people, it swirled past him in a blur of sounds and colors, but he never could quite grab ahold of it.
Something smacked him in the forehead, and he startled, looking up. “Remus,” Janus sighed. He picked up the projectile that had just been lobbed at him. “Did you steal paper from the 20th century supply again?” he asked, staring at the folded-up piece of white paper in the shape of a crane. It was one of Remus’s favorite designs. “That’s not what it’s for.”
“There’s a message inside!” Remus replied, happily.
Janus glared at him and carefully unfolded the paper. He squinted at it, and yeah, that was way worse than the screen. Maybe it was worth his money. Or maybe Remus’s handwriting was just horrendous.
He squinted at it for a few moments and then looked back up. He blinked at his surroundings. The note had said ‘Go home. Work ended three hours ago.’ and that certainly seemed accurate considering he and Remus were the only people left in the office.
“I still have to finish this report about the New Easter Island mission,” he said to Remus.
“I’ll do it,” Remus said. “You’ve been working without a break for hours, and I probably owe the agency some time since I took a coffee break to 22nd century France this afternoon.”
“You what?” Janus asked.
”They have the best coffee,” Remus said, and then grinned wolfishly, “and the best guys.”
“Stop doing that stuff,” Janus hissed. “Your lucky I haven’t reported you already.”
“You wouldn’t,” Remus said, very sure of himself. “You like me too much. Plus, without me, you’ll forget to go home and sleep every night. So, it’d be a loose-loose. Now up! It’s time for you to go home.”
Janus sighed and stood. “Fine,” he said. “I’m going, but that report better be done like you said or I will report you for your coffee excursions.”
“Sure, you will,” Remus said. “Now shoo.”
Janus spared him one more glare before standing from his desk and waving his hand through the air. The machine at his wrist buzzed softly and the display screen lit up around him. He jabbed a finger at the last of the three pre-set locations and, with a feeling like he’d just stepped into a pool of softened butter, he was home.
He groaned and fell back onto his couch immediately. “Time?” he asked.
“1:57am,” a soft voice said from his ceiling. He groaned. Considering the agency liked to keep their schedules aligned even though his house sat almost 2 millennia before the agency even existed, he’d have to be up in 4 hours to head back to work. They said it was to ‘stop them from experiencing time jet lag’ and ‘maintain their circadian rhythm,’ but with Janus it usually just ended up with him ‘not getting enough sleep’ and ‘suffering greatly.’
Sure, he had been fine with it, encouraged the policy even, when the agency was created, but that had been before he’d had to live it.
His stomach suddenly grumbled, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten since before the mission he’d been on earlier that day. He was exhausted, but he also knew trying to go to bed this hungry would result in him not being able to sleep at all. He dragged himself to his feet and into one of the barstools at the kitchen island. He didn’t want to wait for the auto cook feature to cook him something and he especially didn’t want to cook something himself, so he pressed a few buttons on the side of the counter and a protein infused, still cold pop tart popped out of the table.
He thought it might be a Hot Fudge Sunday one, but he honestly couldn’t tell. The protein infusion made all of them taste rather horrible. For all he knew, it was one of the Burnt Rubber pop tarts Remus had once snuck into his pantry. To be fair, he hadn’t even noticed until he’d went to go stock his pantry and realized that there was half a box of those things. It was just another example of Remus using time travel for things he shouldn’t. They were a year 2513 delicacy.
The 2510s were an odd set of years.
He chewed on the possibly chocolate, possibly rubber flavored pastry and glanced out the window. Though it was dark, one could still see the water of the man-made lake his home sat on thanks to the floating lights that hovered above it. Each agent working for the TPI received a home and alternate identity in a time and location of their choice. (Within reason, that is. Remus’s request to live among the dinosaurs was quickly denied and new rules were put into place immediately after.) Janus had chosen the late 24th century with a moderately sized home on Lake BlueBox. He didn’t have many close neighbors, but the ones he did know thought he was an accountant who went by the name of Declan Banks.
No, he had not chosen the last name. Yes, everyone got those types of names. The Agent Management Office had a sense of humor or were just not creative. Janus only knew one employee in the AMO and he’d been avoiding him for the past three years as much as possible. Cowardly, maybe, but he knew if he gave the man too much information about his general lifestyle, he’d be dragged into the AMO to talk about his mental state and feelings, and honestly, that would make everything worse.
As soon as he finished the poptart, a glass of water popped up from the table making him jump despite the fact that he had been the one to set it to do that automatically years ago. He downed half of the water and picked up the glass to take it to his bedroom. He should probably clean himself off before bed, but he couldn’t be bothered today, and just stripped off his uniform and collapsed into bed in his underwear. The morning was going to come far too soon, he knew. Yet, his mind would not quiet. His brain kept filling out the report he trusted (well, hoped he could trust) Remus had already finished by now.
He eventually groaned and rolled over in bed. “Play something,” he requested. The screen by the side of his bed lit up.
“Randomizing the ‘Something’ video playlist,” the soft voice said from the ceiling.
A dance recital which he knew had been recorded in 2033 started playing. The images moved on the screen in front of him, but the sound drifted from all around him. He let his eyes linger over the way the dancers’ bodies moved as the sounds washed over him. The image of elegantly twisting limbs remained in his head long after his eyelids drifted shut and he finally fell asleep.
Chapter 2
The morning was just as torturous as Janus had expected it would be. He chewed through another poptart, this time bothering to actually check and see that it was a cinnamon-sugar one and drank three cups of caffeinated orange juice. Then, he waved his hand through the air and selected the 1st saved location on his device. He popped up directly behind his desk where he’d been standing the night morning before.
Someone, probably Remus, had shut his integrator down. He swiped a finger across the power button, and it flickered back on, scrolling through its morning start up routine.
The machine scanned through all of the data in the three main system it was connected to and sorted all information into things that concerned him, could concern him, and did not before then sorting the first two categories into order of importance. As it did, he set up his screen reader so he would hopefully not start the day with more of a migraine than he already had. It took about 3 seconds for everything to turn on and settle.
Sitting down in his desk, he dismissed the notification that Remus had finished and submitted the report from their mission the day before.
A mission had been scheduled for him today, and the details were in his inbox. A piece time travel technology had been accidently dropped by an archology student in the 1890s during a trip. It was an earlier model of emergency time travel given to time travels that would dump them back into the Registration Office in the year they originated. It wasn’t extremely dangerous, but could pose some problems, especially if someone who didn’t know what it was activated it.
Surveillance agents had tracked it down and found that it had been picked up by a local and sold. Though no one from that time had known what it was, they had identified that it was made out of a precious metal and it had been crafted into an expensive necklace. Janus and Remus were supposed to retrieve it today. It had been pinpointed that the most opportune time for the extraction was 1923 during a masquerade ball held by those who had bought the necklace.
It was a fairly low stakes mission. He wasn’t set to leave for another couple of hours, so he clicked through the rest of the important notifications and then set off to meet his missions coordinator, Rhi, in her office.
Rhi and Janus got along fairly well. She was a well put together woman who took her job incredibly seriously. It was fair as her job was to organize all information and materials from every other department and make sure the agents she was assigned to got and understood all of it. A mistake from her could lead to an agent’s death or something far worse.
This, of course, made her relationship with Remus… interesting to say the least. Janus could never place whether they were nemesis, frenemies, or mortal enemies, and he doubted he would ever know.
“Okay, but it’s the 1920s America,” Remus was already in her office arguing when Janus arrived. “There were so many gangsters! I could be a gangster. I would make a fantastic gangster! Just give me a gun, a snazzy suit with a white hat, and a buttload of alcohol. I will be running Chicago with Al Capone in five minutes.”
“Al Capone didn’t become a crime boss until 1925 and you are going to 1923,” Rhi said, sounding bored, “you aren’t going to Chicago, and as I have already stated, your cover is already decided.”
“But-”
“It is nonnegotiable, Agent Clockson,” she said firmly. Remus pouted, but seemingly accepted his fate.
“May I come in?” Janus asked.
“Please do,” Rhi said. “You have been to the 1920s before, correct?” she asked Janus.
“Yes ma’am.”
She tapped the screen on her desk in response. “In the last two years?”
“About two months ago,” he responded. She tapped something else.
“Any blacks, reds, or yellows?” she asked.
“All green.”
“Great. Do you need a refresher course on basic cultural or linguistic procedures?”
“No.”
She pushed one more thing and then swiped the check-in document over to him. He glanced at the report stating he’d had no incidents of any level the last time he visited the 1920s and had opted out of the optional refresher course, and then pressed his finger against the screen to sign it with his fingerprint.
The document returned to her side of the desk automatically. “Okay,” she said swiping another document from her left over to be in front of her. She twisted her wrist to copy it and slide copies to Janus and Remus. “Here are exact details on the time, place, and event you are going to, as well as details about your cover.” Janus scrolled through his quickly. It wasn’t as detailed as some he’d had considering this was a brief in-and-out missing, but he still took care to memorize everything on the page.
As he and Remus read through their things, Rhi got to her feet and turned to the storage compartments behind her desk.
She grabbed out two packages and when they’d both signed that they’d read and understood the paperwork, she slid them across the desk to them. “These have everything you need,” she said. “Clothes, money, and an invitation to the party you’re off to attend. You are to get changed now, have a last check in with costuming to make sure everything is in order, and then report to decontamination in 23 minutes. Your set to leave in 38 minutes. Any questions?”
“How much-?” Remus started.
“None, agent,” Rhi said.
“But-”
“No alcohol,” Rhi said. “It is the prohibition era in the United States anyway.”
“Like there’s not going to be alcohol at the rich people party,” Remus said sullenly.
She pressed her lips together. “It is an in-and-out mission,” she said to both of them, and then turned to glare at Remus. “Do not get arrested.”
“I don’t know,” Remus said joyfully. “I think I still have room for a 1920s mug shot on my wall.”
“Behave,” she said, “or I’ll report you for the cat you smuggled in from the 1800s.”
“You’d never,” Remus said. “You enjoy the cute pictures of Diesel Fuel I send you every day too much, and you know it!”
“Just… don’t get arrested.” She turned to Janus. “Don’t let him get arrested.”
“I’ll do my best,” Janus promised, standing. “Now come on, Remus, we need to get changed.”
“You just want to see me naked,” Remus replied with a wink, but he did stand.
“If I see you naked one more time in my life Remus, my eyeballs will fall out of their sockets,” Janus said, waving to Rhi as he pulled Remus out of the door.
“Kinky.”
Janus’s eyeballs almost did fall out right then and there with how hard he rolled them.
They got changed quickly, Remus complaining and saying if he couldn’t dress like a gangster, he should at least be allowed to wear a flapper dress. Janus had long ago learned to ignore his ramblings. He did seem enthused about the included mask for the masquerade. It was a silver fox shaped mask with green accents that reminded Janus of the Egyptian God Anubis.
Janus’s own mask on the other hand, was only designed to take up the left half of his face. It was mostly golden with a black swirled design. Attached to the side there was a plume of golden tipped white feathers. He had to give it to the costuming department, they did have good taste.
Once they were both dressed, they were poked and prodded by one of the costumers to make sure everything was accurate, fit right, and had been put on correctly.
After that, they went to the decontamination area to have themselves and everything they were taking with them sterilized so they didn’t accidently take any pathogens to the 1920s. They also received an oral vaccination to be sure they didn’t pick up anything from the 1920s and bring it back.
Then they were ready to go. The correct time-space coordinates had already been sent to their timepieces. With a push of a button, they were off.
Inciting Incident
Chapter 3
Janus and Remus both appeared at the same moment a couple of feet apart in what looked like the inside of a garden shed. There was already a man waiting for them a few feet away. “Sup babes,” Remy said, just like he always did. The T-Agent looked their costumes up and down and whistled. “Now that,” he said, “almost makes me want to be one of you time jockeys.”
“They wouldn’t let me have a gun or a canister of moonshine,” Remus pouted.
Remy snorted. “Sorry, babes, but that makes my job a lot easier. If I’ve gotta fish you outta the 1920s criminal justice system, I’d rather it not be because you shot someone on accident ‘cause you don’t know how to use the safety.”
Remus groaned dramatically. “Everyone is lame.”
Remy just shook his head. “Meet back here when you’ve got the necklace,” he said. “Don’t make a move until after 11:05pm and before 11:17. That’s your window.”
“We know,” Janus said. “See you then.”
“Have fun at the party boys,” Remy said and then lowered his shades to look at Remus, “but not too much fun.”
“Yeah, yeah,” said Remus, already towing Janus out of the garden shed. The way had been specifically cleared for them, so they met no other people before they’d rounded the house the party was taking place and had gotten onto the driveway in front of the house.
Without missing a beat, they strolled up to the front of the house, just as a car pulled into the end of the driveway. Janus rang the doorbell, and a few moments later, a man who was clearly the butler answered the door. They handed over their invitation, and the man immediately let them in.
The party had already started when they slipped into the medium sized ballroom that had been decked out in streamers and other decorations. Janus’s nose immediately wanted to scrunch as the smell of sweat from all the dancing already going on as well as the too strong perfume meant to cover that stench wafted over him. It was by far not the worst smelling time period, but he was pretty sure some people still weren’t aware deodorant had been recently invented.
He checked his time piece which had been disguised as a fancy wristwatch for this trip. “Okay,” he said. “We have about two hours before we need to make our move. We should…”
Remus’s attention was already being dragged away by a young man who seemed to be providing guests with food. “I’m going to go ‘mingle’,” he said, winking.
“No!” Janus hissed. “Re- Richard! No!”
Yet, he was already disappearing into the horde of stinky bodies, likely to go scandalize a bunch of rich folks, and leaving Janus alone. Janus mumbled a curse under his breath that he was sure no one around him would understand even if they could make it out.
Unsure what to do with himself, he wandered over towards where the live musicians were playing jazz music, being sure to keep out of the way of the dancers. He was edging around the makeshift dancefloor, when one of said dancers must have misstepped and knocked into another one. The second man stumbled right towards Janus, arms pinwheeling. Janus reached out on instinct to catch the man as he fell.
There was a moment where the two of them just stared at each other, surprise evident on the other man’s face. He was wearing a mask that just covered the area around his eyes and the top of his nose, revealing a smattering of freckles across his cheeks that Janus imagined extended to his nose.
The mask was a light blue velvet with a flower stuck on the side near his right ear, and a trail of curled golden ribbon bobbed down around his chin. The party continued on around them, a blur of movement and sound.
“Are you alright?” Janus asked.
The man blinked up at him and then tilted his head slightly to the side as though confused, before a smile slowly grew on his face. “Oh, I’m fine Dove.”
“Dove?” Janus asked.
He giggled. “You have dove feathers on your mask,” he explained, reaching up a hand to touch one. His finger brushed the tip of Janus’s ear, “and I don’t know what else I am supposed to call you.”
“My name is Lee,” he automatically lied.
“Is it?” he asked, sounding amused. “Doesn’t seem to fit you well. I like Dove better.”
“Oh?” asked Janus. “And what’s your name so I can not call you that?”
The man chuckled. “Call me Pat.”
“Hello Pat,” Janus said.
“I thought you didn’t want to call me by my name.”
“I changed my mind.”
“Hmmm,” Pat said, finger tracing idly across Janus’s forearm which was when Janus realized with a start that he was still holding the man in his arms. He quickly went to release him, which Pat allowed with clear amusement.
Yet, instead of completely stepping away, Pat grabbed Janus’s arm. “What are you doing all the way over here by the way?” he asked. “Don’t you want to dance.”
“Oh,” Janus hesitated. “I don’t really dance.” Or at least not in the way the people around him were. He’d had basic training for this style, but it had been a while and he was a bit rusty.
“Everyone dances Dove,” Pat claimed. “At least if they know the steps and have the right partner.”
“But I don’t know the steps,” Janus said with an eyebrow raise.
He hummed. “Well, I know the dance pretty well by this point,” Pat said. “Why don’t I teach you how it goes.”
He was agreeing with the soft beseeching tone before he even realized it. Pat pulled him into the middle of the throng of people. He seemed to think, bopping his head to the music playing for a moment, before looking back at Janus. “Heard of James Johnson?”
Janus inclined his head.
“Well, have you heard his new song? Because there’s a dance that goes with it.”
He took a few steps away from Janus and started to dance. Despite his claim to know the steps, he wasn’t particularly good, but he made up for any loss of rhythm with pure enthusiasm.
Janus found himself smiling at the man, and after a few moments, joined in with the dance. Despite his lack of practice, he ended up having a better natural rhythm than Pat. Pat didn’t seem to mind that he was being outperformed, however. On the contrary, he giggled at himself the couple of times he stumbled.
When he fell into Janus’s arms for the second time that night, Janus decided he’d probably had enough dancing for the moment and pulled him off to the side to get something to drink and cool down a bit.
He watched the man take a snack and some punch from one of servers and thank him happily before turning back to Janus. Pat was easily able to keep Janus’s attention as they chatted. He was bubbly and soft, and Janus found himself enchanted as they talked.
He was explaining the steps of a different dance, a couples one. “Knowing how to perform the tango will entrance any girl you want,” Pat said, something mischievous sparkling in his eyes. “Assuming you’re that type of fella.”
“As opposed to what?” Janus asked.
Pat leaned in a bit closer. Not too much, but enough that he was definitely in Janus’s space. “A different type of fella,” he said simply, before smiling and leaning back.
Janus let out a shaky exhale and took a sip of punch. He glanced over at Pat. “Tell me about yourself, Pat,” he said.
Pat hummed in contemplation. “Well, I went to France recently.”
“You did?”
“Oui, c'était amusant, mais j'ai eu des ennuis”
“What kind of trouble?” Janus asked curiously.
“Oh, the kind with a pretty boy and crepes that were way too sweet. Anyway,” he continued. “Other than that, I mostly help out my friend. He’s an inventor.”
“And how do you help him.”
He shrugged, “Running errands mostly, and making sure he gets enough sleep, because otherwise he gets distracted and forgets. And you?”
“I’m a banker,” he said, remembering his cover, but felt compelled to add, “but I like to travel as well.”
“You do look the type?”
“And how is that?”
Pat shrugged. “I can always tell a wandering spirt from the masses, and you are easy to spot.” Pat looked at him then with a secret smile on his face, and Janus felt suddenly known, like the man in front of him had known him for years even though they’d only just met. Looking at him then, he wanted suddenly for that to be fact and not a flight of fancy.
He was brought firmly back to reality in the next moment. “Lee,” a pointed and familiar voice said. Janus’s head snapped up to see Remus, staring at him. He tapped his wrist. Janus glanced at his own wrist: 10:58pm. He just barely managed not to curse.
“I,” he said looking up at Pat. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”
“That’s okay,” Pat said easily. “It is getting rather late.”
“Yes,” Janus agreed. “Well… goodbye.”
Pat, titled his head, a half smile on his face. “I’ll be seeing you around.”
Janus nodded, and turned away from him towards Remus. He didn’t look back as they excited the ballroom. They snuck into a small side closet for coats that wasn’t being used as it was summer.
“So,” Remus said when the door closed behind them.
“Don’t,” warned Janus.
“I’m not one to judge,” Remus said.
“Shut up.” He glanced at his watch. It was 11:02. “We’ll go in 5.”
“I have to give it to you. He was very cute.”
“We’re not talking about it.”
Remus just laughed joyfully, and Janus did his best to halt the blood rushing to his cheeks.
At 11:07, well into their window, they slipped back out of the closet, and towards the stairs as the party raged on.
Despite how Remus usually never shut up, he was able to be quiet when it counted. They snuck to the master bedroom of the home’s owners in silence. The door was already wide open by the time they got there, and Janus didn’t think anything of it. At least, he didn’t until they entered the bedroom, and there was someone already there.
He turned from the dresser he’d been standing in front of to face them, sending Janus the same smile he had down in the ballroom. Janus and Remus both froze. “Sorry, sweetie,” Pat said. “Were you here for this too?” he held up the necklace they’d been sent for. He closed his fist around the charm made out of time travel tech.
“What?” Janus said.
Pat giggled and winked. “Unfortunately, I need it a bit more than you at the moment. So, I’m gonna have to go.” Janus stepped forward, not really sure what he was intending to do, but Pat just smiled. “See you some other time, my Turtle Dove.” With a snap of his fingers and loud crack, he disappeared. The mask he’d been wearing fluttered to the ground.
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Tree House Kisses, Chapter 38 (Adorney) - Scorpio and Veronica
A/N: Click here for previous chapters. And thank you so much to @saiphl for the beta help!! XO!
Chapter Summary: The girls spend a summer apart, but then start their senior year, closer than ever.
Chapter 38: Feelings
Courtney’s dad had moved with his girlfriend to Berkeley earlier in the year, and both of her parents unilaterally decided that she should spend the summer with him for some “quality time.” She’d argued, she’d protested, she’d pleaded with Karen, she’d even cried; but in the end she had no choice but to go along with the plan, sullenly packing her things and boarding the train, defeated. Her only solace was that Roy was doing a summer program in Stanford for a month, which meant that at least they could still see each other on the weekends for part of the time she was there.
COURTNEY: JFC I’m gonna be sleeping on a goddamn fold out couch all summer. This is shit.
ADORE: Awww, so sorry, princess. Xx
COURTNEY: Lol, fuck you. You have no idea what this is like
ADORE: That’s true. I haven’t seen my dad for like ten years
COURTNEY: WAH WAH WAHHH YOU ALWAYS HAVE TO WIN
COURTNEY: ;)
ADORE: lol
The truth was, Courtney hadn’t really spent much time with her dad since the divorce. Sometimes it made her sad, thinking about how close they used to be. She tried to keep an open mind, but a big part of her was still angry about him having an affair, turning their lives upside-down, leaving her mom...leaving her.
Adore was right, though. As far as absentee fathers went, things could be much worse. One night, while he sat on the sofa (the one that doubled as the least comfortable bed she ever had) watching TV, Courtney wandered over and sat down next to him.
He looked up from the TV, surprised, a smile spreading across his face.
“Hey, kiddo.”
“Hi.” Courtney shifted slightly, tried to shake the horrible feeling that she was sitting next to a grown man that she barely knew. “Whatcha watching?”
“Just the news...if things go well this year, we can take both the house and the senate,” Peter told her. “And in 2008, that fucking shit-for-brains will finally be done and we can get the White House, too.”
“That would be awesome,” Courtney agreed, letting her head rest on her father’s shoulder. He wasn’t perfect, that was for damn sure...but when it came down to it, she supposed she was lucky to have him.
-
Meanwhile, Adore had gotten a summer job as a counselor at an arts day camp, and soon began spending her days surrounded by loud, attention-seeking child star wannabes. Every day, she came home and collapsed in exhaustion, vowing to never, under any circumstances, ever have children.
COURTNEY: How’s camp?
ADORE: The worst
COURTNEY: I’m sorry
ADORE: It’s all good. How’s the homewrecker?
COURTNEY: Weird
ADORE: Is she teaching you any good stripper moves?
COURTNEY: No, she just like, chain smokes and talks to her birds
ADORE: She has BIRDS?
COURTNEY: Yeah man, I told you. WEIRD
ADORE: What are the birds’ names?
COURTNEY: Something in Russian, I dunno. I just call them Boris and Natasha
ADORE: Lol you’re so corny
COURTNEY: I did meet some pretty cool anarchist guys down the block
ADORE: What’s their band called?
COURTNEY: Who said they have a band?
ADORE: What’s their band called, Courtney?
COURTNEY: Pussy Whisper
ADORE: LOLOLOLOL
-
COURTNEY: Okay, so...this is going to shock you…
ADORE: ???
COURTNEY: The Pussy Whisper dudes?
ADORE: Oh jeez, what?
COURTNEY: They’re gross
ADORE: Yeah, no shit
COURTNEY: i just really liked what Tristan had to say about late stage capitalism
ADORE: Right
COURTNEY: And Grant said I was smart
ADORE: Well, that was your first clue
COURTNEY: HEY!!!
ADORE: Lol, not because you’re not. Because dudes in a band called “Pussy Whisper” that call you smart are up to some no-good shit
COURTNEY: Right. Ugh
ADORE: Bird lady still a fucking weirdo?
COURTNEY: Yeah. Although she did take me to a yoga class this morning, so that was nice. She’s actually maybe not the most vile person on the planet
ADORE: Awww, look at you, falling in love
COURTNEY: Shut up
-
Once Courtney got over her initial resistance, she had to admit that Berkely was somewhat cool. Certainly more her speed than the bland suburban wasteland she was used to. She spent most of her days wandering around used book stores, head shops, or combing through racks of cute vintage dresses. One afternoon, sunbathing in the backyard of her dad’s apartment building (which was a converted Victorian house that she also had to regretfully admit was pretty charming), she made friends with a very affectionate marmalade-colored kitten. Turned out, the cat belonged to their downstairs neighbor, and soon Courtney found herself fully enchanted with the older woman.
COURTNEY: Okay I found a much better new friend than the PW boys. She’s our downstairs neighbor and she’s like 70 and so cool. She has pink hair and all her clothes are made of hemp. She’s gonna take me to an Iraq War protest on Saturday.
ADORE: Oh jeez. You’re gonna come back with white person dreads, aren’t you?
COURTNEY: lol it’s a nice look
ADORE: IT IS NOT
-
ADORE: Abortion should be legal until the kids are like...12 years old, at least
COURTNEY: Campers getting on your nerves?
ADORE: If I snap, will you visit me in prison?
COURTNEY: Of course! I’ll bake a nail file into a cake for you and everything. XOXO
ADORE: Good cake or some bay area bullshit?
COURTNEY: Gluten free agave-sweetened carob cake, courtesy of Patsy
ADORE: Fuck off
COURTNEY: Don’t insult Patsy. She’s been protesting since Vietnam, she’s awesome.
-
ADORE: HEY CHEERLEADER THIS IS WILLAM! YOU’RE A SLUT AND WE MISS YOU!
ADORE: AND I’M VERY DISAPPOINTED THAT YOU DIDN’T FUCK THE PUSSY WHISPERERS
COURTNEY: Sorry bunny
ADORE: He’s high
COURTNEY: And you?
ADORE: Meeee? Whaaaaaat?
ADORE: Yes lol
COURTNEY: Lol, have fun
-
COURTNEY: Would it be really bad if I liked Katya?
ADORE: Omg are you gonna start calling her Mommy?
COURTNEY: Shut up!
COURTNEY: But seriously...it would be like, disloyal to my mom if I liked her, right?
ADORE: Are you gonna start adopting birds?
COURTNEY: No, I just think she’s kind of funny sometimes. I’m a terrible daughter
ADORE: Well, your mom IS the one who sent you up there for the summer. So…
COURTNEY: True
-
ADORE: So. Something happened last night that was...uh…
ADORE: Very
ADORE: ...
COURTNEY: ???
ADORE: Give me a minute...I’m processing...
COURTNEY: Tell me!
ADORE: Well, we started in Violet’s basement, drinking, and I’m not sure how but somehow it ended up being like 10 people
COURTNEY: Aww, was Violet sad I wasn’t there? Did she cry?
ADORE: lol, totally
COURTNEY: So what happened???
ADORE: Yeah, so...I went out to the backyard to smoke and Trin came and like...I’m not sure exactly how it happened, but I think I made out with her
COURTNEY: WHOA
ADORE: Yeah
COURTNEY: Is she gay???
ADORE: No, definitely not. We were just like, drunk and high
COURTNEY: Is everything cool between you??
ADORE: Yeah, I think so. We were laughing about it this morning. But like, I still feel a little bad.
COURTNEY: Why do you feel bad?
ADORE: I mean, I dunno. I don’t want people to think that I’m like, some predatory asshole, you know?
COURTNEY: No one would think that
ADORE: My track record might disagree
COURTNEY: The only thing your track record shows is you’re a ho
ADORE: WOW
COURTNEY: I WAS KIDDING!!!!
ADORE: lol, I know
COURTNEY: XOXOXOXO
-
As much as Courtney tried, and as much as she made her peace with her summer surroundings, by the time August rolled around, she began to get increasingly homesick. Missing her mom, her bedroom, even Grandma Muriel. But especially, missing Adore.
COURTNEY: I really miss you
COURTNEY: Like so much
ADORE: Me too
COURTNEY: No like SO much
ADORE: Are you high?
COURTNEY: No, are you?
ADORE: A little lol
COURTNEY: I’m not high. I just love you.
ADORE: Aww, thanks babe
-
“DORY!!” Courtney squealed, practically leaping from her car the second she pulled into the driveway. She’d texted Adore from her last stop for gas, but she was thrilled to see her best friend actually waiting for her.
She wrapped Adore into a tight hug, her excitement causing her to pepper Adore’s entire face with wet kisses.
“Hi, okay, stop it,” Adore giggled. “Nice car, by the way.”
“Oh yeah, I know, it’s pretty great. Peter gets a gold star for that one.” Courtney glanced back at the car, her dad’s old Honda Accord, shaking her new bangs out of her face. He’d surprised her with the keys just last week, and it had almost made her forgive him for leaving in the first place...almost. “It was kind of scary to do that whole drive alone, though. I’m very thankful to have made it in one piece.”
“Me too,” Adore said, with a grin that told Courtney she was home. “Now that you’re back, it’s gonna be a fuckin’ party.”
Courtney laid a head on her shoulder, sighing happily.
“You’re going to Darienne’s goodbye party on Wednesday, right?”
“Yeah, of course. Omigod! Dory! I wanted to make those peanut butter cupcakes that she loves, but you know I’m just absolute shit at decorating, can you help?”
“What on earth makes you think I’d be good at cupcake decorating?” Adore laughed.
“I dunno, you’re better at art than me,” Courtney said. “Plus, it’ll just be more fun with you.”
Adore pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Count me in.”
-
School was going to be starting back up soon, and as Adore looked around the party at her friends, she couldn’t help but feel a little ambivalent. Summer had just been so nice, and having that small taste of freedom made her long to be done with school altogether.
Tonight, there was a big group at Pearl’s house--her usual friends as well as a bunch of the neighborhood kids, enjoying the pool and the warm evening air. Violet, Fame and Trinity lounged in the hot tub with April, watching the sun set. Pearl was standing at the grill, living her butch fantasy as she cooked up food for her guests, swatting Bob away with as he peered over her shoulder, trying to “help.”
It was a little bittersweet--Darienne had already left for Pepperdine a few weeks earlier, and Jamin for Cal Poly. Even though they weren’t as close as they used to be, it still felt strange, somehow, for them to be missing. Hell, it was even weird for Alyssa to be gone, the loudmouth head cheerleader now torturing people at UC San Diego, probably already sorority president.
A handful of people were dancing, including Courtney and Willam, twirling until they were dizzy and laughing.
“Ugh, I don’t want school to start!” Willam suddenly whined, reflecting Adore’s feelings exactly.
“I know, but this year we’re coming back as seniors, and we’re gonna rule the school,” Courtney said, imitating the line from Grease perfectly.
“Oh really? You think you’re Rizzo?” Adore challenged her.
“Why can’t I be Rizzo?” she demanded.
“Bitch, you are Sandy and you know it,” Adore laughed, grabbing a beer and sitting down on the back steps.
“I can be Rizzo if I want! Fuck you!”
“Yeah, lesbian! How dare you put cheerleader in a box! She can be whatever she wants!” Willam cried.
“That's right,” Courtney added, “I mean, I did spend all summer hanging out with a prostitute. What did you do? Day Camp?”
“I was a counselor,” Adore replied, laughing. She reached into the cooler and pulled out a bottle. “Here, have another drink. And I thought Katya was a stripper, not a prostitute.”
“You don't know her. It's a very blurry line,” Courtney explained, taking the offered wine cooler.
Willam grabbed Courtney’s hand and pulled her away, spinning her around and around. “Less talking, more dancing!”
Adore shook her head, watching them with a smile, lighting up a joint. Roy sat down beside her--the last of his class, since UCLA didn’t start for a few more weeks.
“Hey, Delano. How ya doing, man?”
“Good...bro.”
Roy flashed some dimples at her, then just sat for a minute, unusually quiet, as they both watched their friends dancing like fools. Willam dipped Courtney low to the ground and she shrieked and giggled.
“God, she’s so fucking beautiful,” he said.
Adore wasn’t sure if he was talking to her or himself. She nodded, leaning against the banister and sighing slightly.
When Roy spoke again, it was quiet. “I know, you know. How lucky I am.”
Adore looked at him, considering her reply. Finally, she just nodded and said, “Good.”
Roy gave her another smile.
“Make sure she stays outta trouble while I’m away.”
“I think I’m probably the least qualified person for that job,” Adore laughed, then held out the joint.
“Thanks, I’m cool.”
“Debatable,” Adore retorted, taking another hit.
Roy shook his head, chuckling.
“I’m gonna miss you too, Delano.”
“Aww...shut up.”
-
On the first day of their senior year, Courtney and Adore walked out of their fourth period economics class together, giggling over Laganja’s unfortunate new haircut.
“I feel bad for saying so, but it’s just so...”
“Hideous?” Adore supplied, and Courtney giggled some more.
“Yeah. Poor thing. Although it’s hard to say whether her hair is more or less tragic than Mr. Sutton’s awkwardness. He’s like a baby deer.”
“I know! But like, imagine trying to get the respect of students who are pretty much your age,” Adore laughed.
“How old do you think he is, anyway?”
“Uh, I don’t know, but I’m pretty sure he graduated with Kim and Angie. I think I remember him from when Angie did show choir.”
Courtney grabbed onto Adore’s arm, eyes wide.
“Omigod, you’re right! I knew he looked familiar!” she exclaimed.
It wasn’t until they were halfway down the hill that Adore noticed Courtney still walking with her. She hadn’t split off to go sit with the neighborhood kids like past years, simply walked beside her towards the oak tree, where Trinity and Willam already sat, sword-fighting with breadsticks.
“Are you...planning to join us?” Adore asked curiously, and Courtney bit her lip.
“Is that okay? I mean...it’s just a little weird without Roy and Darienne, so I thought…you can say no if-”
“Of course it’s okay!” Adore pulled her in for a side hug. “Everyone loves you, you know that.”
“Everyone?” Courtney asked, one eyebrow nearly to her hairline.
“Almost everyone.” Adore smiled ruefully. “And anyway, I want you here, so she can just deal with it.”
As it turned out, Adore was right. Everyone welcomed Courtney enthusiastically with open arms. And even Violet was unusually cool about it, containing her disapproval to some muttered asides to Fame, who promptly thumped her on the shoulder every time, akin to bopping a puppy on the nose with a newspaper.
Courtney didn’t seem to mind either way, cheerfully trading barbs with Willam and letting Fame “fix” her eyebrows, which were deemed “just too pale.”
“Are your pubes blonde, too?” Willam asked curiously, and Trinity began choking on her sandwich from laughter.
“Gross,” Courtney said, wrinkling her nose.
“Actually, are they? I’m kind of curious,” Trinity said.
“Come on, cheerleader, just tell us!” Willam urged.
“You know, I quit cheerleading almost a year ago,” Courtney said.
“So?”
“He still calls me ‘New Girl,’” Pearl explained.
“Why are you stalling? Show! Me! Your! Pussy! Hairs!” Willam said, and Fame put her whole head in her hands, letting out a horrified groan before going back to Courtney’s eyebrows.
“Careful, Bill, or you might get what you wish for,” Courtney sang, staring him down. “You really wanna see my pussy?”
“Uhh...no. Well, maybe...but no. Or…” Willam’s brow furrowed.
“Shit, you broke his little gay brain,” Pearl said, laughing.
“Omigod, that’s so much better!” Fame sat back on her heels, holding up a compact so that Courtney could see her new defined eyebrows.
“Oh wow, that is better! Thank you!”
After snapping the compact shut and handing it back to Fame, Courtney caught Adore’s eye, both of their faces melting into a grin. As Adore buried her smile into her sandwich, she couldn’t help but think about what a change it was from last year.
Maybe a sign of good things to come...or maybe the calm before the storm.
#rpdr fanfiction#tree house kisses#scorpio#veronica#adorney#adore delano#courtney act#bianca del rio#bitney#willam belli#miss fame#lesbian au#high school au#angst#fluff
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Memories of Godly Selfishness Ch. 1
So I’ve been working on this for the last few days. The ideas been banging along in my head for the past few months. I remembered it again a few days ago and thought “hey, maybe I should submit this as a prompt!” and then realized “Oh wait, I’m a fanfic writer, I can just write the darn thing myself.” It was faster and easier to write than I expected! Still took a while though.
This will be a two-shot, though I’m not sure when I’ll write the second chapter.
The context here is that Apollo manages to accidentally drag Meg into his flashbacks, the same way Hazel took Leo and Frank along on some of her flashbacks. So they’re viewing these memories from a third-person perspective.
Meg and I stood in the middle of an amphitheater. Scraggly bushes populated the area beyond the stone of the amphitheater. It all seemed very familiar...
Before I was able to figure out why (curse my tiny mortal memory) I heard the twang of a ukulele’s string being plucked. Instinctively I turned around. As a god of music, I naturally grew curious whenever I heard music, plus the months I’d spent as a mortal had honed my sound identifying and threat assessment abilities... which was a nice way of saying that I listened fearfully for any sound I didn’t know the origin of and looked for hiding spots if I thought it was a monster... or worse.
My mind came to a screeching halt. I was looking at a highly attractive young man, roughly seventeen years old, with curly blond hair and a nice tan, mournfully plucking away at a ukulele. I was looking at myself. Me, before I’d lost my divinity, before I’d met Meg, before my children were kidnapped, before I dragged Meg out of the Cave of Trophonious, before Crest and Jason died, before any of the events that had radically altered how I behaved and my perception of the world.
That still didn’t tell me WHEN I was, though. My memory was faulty at the best of times, and trying to figure out what was going on just based on me sadly playing a ukulele by myself wasn’t much of a clue.
Wait... by myself?
I broke my gaze from my glorious divine self (oh, how I missed my true appearance), and cast my gaze from side to side. My eyes locked onto the form of a young teenage girl with long dark hair, whittling away on a piece of wood, forming it into a bow.
Artemis.
Before I could form another thought, I was scrambling across the floor to get to her.
“Sister!” I yelled as I ran at her, my arms open, desperately wanting, NEEDING to see her face and to feel her embrace again.
I passed right through her as if I wasn’t even there.
Reality reasserted itself. This was a memory. I couldn’t interact with anyone here. It only existed in my mind.
Meg caught up with me and gently took my hand. I turned to her. That’s right. Meg was real. She was here.
“You’ll see her again,” Meg reassured me. I wanted to believe her, but after everything I’d been through, I wasn’t so sure. I settled for studying her face, trying to memorize every detail, the color of her eyes, the expression on her face as she vented her frustration through her crafting. I wanted to hang onto my memories of my sister this time. I had to at least try.
As I was staring at my sister, I heard a yell from the edges of the amphitheater, “Don’t shoot!”
Startled, I looked up. Descending the stairs to the center stage were Leo, Frank, and Hazel.
Ah. That narrowed things down a bit. I remembered this, but vaguely. Leo had asked me for advice on his plan to defeat Gaea and for help with the Physician’s Cure. In exchange he had traded me the Valdezinator, that wonderful musical instrument of his. Sadly I couldn’t remember much beyond those facts. The memory itself was blurry and hard to get ahold of. I decided to give up on forcing myself to remember and just watch it instead.
As the demigods reached the front row where Artemis sat, she muttered, “There you are. We were beginning to wonder.”
“So you were expecting us, then,” Leo replied. “I can tell, because you’re so excited.”
“We were expecting to be found, bothered, and tormented,” my godly self interjected melodramatically, still plucking on his ukulele’s strings, “We didn’t know by whom. Can you not leave us in our misery?”
Beside me, Meg snorted and rolled her eyes. I had a feeling she was unimpressed with my past self. I didn’t blame her. This all seemed very silly and kinda embarrassing now. The demigods had had a FAR worse time than I had. It was ridiculous for me to be throwing a pity party for myself while they were risking their lives on a quest to save both camps and the gods, all with very little help from the gods they were protecting.
At least I’d been able to help here. I remembered that much. I had helped Leo survive. I had done SOMETHING right during all of this at least.
“You know they can’t, brother,” Artemis chided. “They require our help with their quest, even if the odds are hopeless.”
Meg jolted, eyes widening in realization. “That’s YOU?!” she exclaimed in disbelief, gesturing to my godly self.
Ah. Meg had never seen me as a god. She wouldn’t know the kinds of forms my divine self preferred. I nodded, putting my fingers to my lips in an attempt to quiet her. I was pretty sure there hadn’t been long pauses in this conversation for commentary by my future self and a young girl to talk during, and I doubted that I could rewind this memory. I didn’t want to miss any of this. We’d have to talk when there WAS a break in the conversation... assuming we had one before the memory ended.
“You two are full of good cheer,” Leo said. “Why are you hiding out here anyway? Shouldn’t you be... I dunno, fighting giants or something?”
I rolled my eyes. I WISHED. If Artemis and I had had the ability, we would’ve rained vengeance down on Orion for harming her Hunters. A memory resurfaced of myself holding Artemis as she cried, feeling the life drain from her friends’ bodies, unable to do anything to help them. I pushed it away before it could overwhelm me. I had my hands full with THIS memory, I didn’t want to get dragged into a different memory and miss this one.
Artemis glared at Leo. I began to feel a little nervous. I didn’t REMEMBER Artemis turning him into a woodland creature, but my memory was pretty faulty at the moment...
“Delos is our birthplace,” my sister said. “Here, we are unaffected by the Greek-Roman schism. Believe me, Leo Valdez, if I could, I would be with my Hunters, facing our old enemy Orion. Unfortunately, if I stepped off this island, I would become incapacitated with pain. All I can do is watch helplessly as Orion slaughters my followers. Many gave their lives to protect your friends and that accursed Athena statue.”
Meg turned to me, her brow furrowing, mouthing ‘Greek-Roman schism?’. I mouthed back, ‘Later’.
Hazel emitted a choking sound. “You mean Nico? Is he alright?”
I felt terrible seeing her like that. Knowing your sibling is in danger, and unable to do anything to help them... I know how that felt.
“All right?” my former self sobbed out. “None of us are alright, girl! Gaea is rising!”
I almost laughed. I sounded so ridiculous and pathetic. There I was, all my divine power intact, an Olympian! ...and yet I was losing my head more than the oh-so-squishy, oh-so-killable demigods, who had actually been forced to face Gaea’s minions. I’d just sat on Delos and sulked.
Artemis evidently agreed with my current self. She glared at my past self. “Hazel Lavesque, your brother is still alive. He is a brave fighter, like you. I wish I could say the same of my brother.”
“You wrong me!” my godly self wailed. “I was misled by Gaea and that horrible Roman child!”
I wasn’t sure how the demigods resisted busting out laughing at that exclamation. I sounded like a toddler that thought that the entire world had betrayed him because his mother wouldn’t push him on the swing.
Somehow they kept their self-control. Frank cleared his throat. “Uh, Lord Apollo, you mean Octavian?”
“Do not speak his name!” my former self exclaimed as he strummed another note on his ukulele. “Oh, Frank Zhang, if only you were my child.” I silently agreed. I’d gotten to know Frank better over the course of my quest. I would’ve been honored to have him as my son. “I heard your prayers, you know, all those weeks you wanted to be claimed.But alas! Mars gets all the good ones. I get... that creature as my descendant. He filled my head with compliments. He told me of the great temples he would build in my honor.”
My sister snorted. “You are easily flattered, brother.”
“Because I have so many amazing qualities to praise!” I felt my face twist in disgust. Yes, AMAZING qualities. Like my cowardice, my ignorance, my willingness to watch children die and treat it as ENTERTAINMENT... and my inability to save those children, even when I was trying my hardest. Death followed in my wake.
Meg looked over at me, her face scrunched up in a concerned expression. I smoothed out my expression as best I could. I didn’t want to worry her.
My past self continued talking while this was going on, “Octavian said he wanted to make the Romans strong. I said fine! I gave him my blessing.”
I looked down for a moment. Octavian and Commodus. I had given both my blessing. Both had gone crazy and died, one by my own hand. I had a terrible track record with my blessings.
“As I recall,” said Artemis, “he also promised to make you the most important god of the legion, above even Zeus.”
My eyes nearly rolled back in my head. Oh yeah, THAT was one of the things he promised me. How was I so much of an idiot that I didn’t realize that Zeus would take offense at that? He couldn’t stand ANY possible threat to his power, he’d never have allowed for my power to grow and his own to diminish that much, not while he had a way to stop it.
“Well, who was I to argue with an offer like that? Does Zeus have a perfect tan? Can he play the ukulele? I think not!”
I buried my face in my hands. Meg busted out laughing. I’d undergone a LOT of humiliation throughout my time as a mortal. It seemed ironic that the most embarrassing thing I’d been through so far was watching what I said and did when I was a god.
My former self continued, “But I never thought Octavian would start a war! Gaea must have been clouding my thoughts, whispering in my ear.”
Truthfully, I couldn’t remember now WHAT I thought Octavian would do. It never crossed my mind that my children would be in danger, but that may have simply been because I was in Roman form at the time, so my Greek children weren’t at the forefront of my thoughts.
“So fix it,” Leo said. “Tell Octavian to stand down. Or, you know, shoot him with one of your arrows. That would be fine too.”
I snorted. As if my life was ever that easy.
My past self quickly disabused Leo of that notion. “I cannot!” he cried. “Look!” He turned his ukulele into a bow. I watched enviously. Oh how I missed being able to do that, it meant I didn’t have to encumber myself. Alas, I was mortal now, and that was simply one of the many inconveniences I had to put up with.
He summoned a golden arrow (another ability I wish I still had, running out of ammunition was always a pain. And terrifying. Mostly terrifying) nocked it, and let it fly. It evaporated at Delos’s boundary.
“To shoot my bow, I would have to step off Delos. Then I would be incapacitated, or Zeus would strike me down. Father never liked me. He hasn’t trusted me for millennia!”
Trust.
I bitterly wished that I could trust Zeus not to torture me when I displeased him, . At the very least, I wish I could trust him to set his priorities straight. He might have decided that this was a good and just punishment for me, turning me mortal and making me go on a quest in order to regain his favor. Fine. But preventing other gods from helping was causing more mortals to die in the Triumvirate’s attacks than was necessary. But he didn’t care. He had faith that whatever happened, it wouldn’t get so far that it threatened himself directly, nor his power. Loss of life was of little concern to him.
“Well,” my sister responded, “to be fair, there was that time you conspired with Hera to overthrow him.”
“That was a misunderstanding!”
It hadn’t been a misunderstanding. I was bitter over being shocked for nth time that year, and when I saw a chance to stop from being shocked again, I took it. I should’ve known better than to side with Hera though. Honestly, she had tortured my mother, what was I THINKING siding with her?
“And you killed some of Zeus’s Cyclopes.”
“I had a good reason for that!”
I looked down at my shoes, not wanting to meet Artemis’s eyes, even though she couldn’t see this version of me. I hadn’t had a good reason. I’d just told myself I did. I needed someone to blame, someone to take my anger out on who wouldn’t destroy me if I tried, and they were convenient. I was willing to admit this to myself now, though I’d always known it. Meeting Tyson had made me regret taking my anger out on those Cyclopes. Those gentle, but still somewhat bitter eyes as he asked me if I would kill HIM if Zeus or another god used one of the weapons he made to do something cruel, something Tyson had no knowledge of and couldn’t stop even if he did... it filled me with shame.
I was still talking. At this point I wished he’d just shut up. He reminded me of everything I hate about how I used to act.
“At any rate, now Zeus blames me for everything - Octavian’s schemes, the fall of Delphi-”
“Wait,” Hazel inquired, forming the gesture for ‘time-out’. “The fall of Delphi?”
I groaned. Did we REALLY have to go over this? It had been my reality for the past few months, I didn’t need a recap.
Hazel needed to be informed, however. My former self sated her curiosity. “When the schism began between Greek and Roman, while I struggled with confusion, Gaea took advantage! She raised my old enemy Python, the great serpent, to repossess the Delphic Oracle. That horrible creature is now coiled in the ancient caverns, blocking the magic of prophecy. I am stuck here, so I can’t even fight him.”
I shuddered. I still wasn’t sure how I could defeat Python like this. The thought of facing him again sent my knees knocking, and I had to fight to stay upright. Meg took my hand, wordlessly showing her support. I calmed down. Maybe I was mortal this time, that was true. But this time, I wasn’t alone. We would defeat Python together.
“Bummer,” Leo said. He didn’t look very bummed. I couldn’t really blame him. It was awful that the power of prophecy had gone out, but I knew first-hand how taxing it could be to be the subject of a prophecy.
“Bummer indeed!” My godly version cried. “Zeus was already angry with me for appointing that new girl, Rachel Dare, as my Oracle. Zeus seems to think I hastened the war with Gaea by doing so, since Rachel issued the Prophecy of Seven as soon as I blessed her. But prophecy doesn’t work that way! Father just needed someone to blame. So of course he picked the handsomest, most talented, hopelessly awesome god.”
Anger and resentment nipped at my core. Zeus KNEW Rachel issuing that prophecy hadn’t caused it to arrive sooner. But he needed an excuse, ANY excuse, to blame someone, ANYONE else. Just so long as he wasn’t to blame.
While I was simmering about Zeus’s injustice, Meg burst out laughing again, which quickly extinguished my anger. Artemis faked some gagging noises at the same time. I started chuckling as well. My vanity HAD been pretty hilarious at times. Meg and I were laughing so hard, I nearly missed the next part of the conversation.
“Oh, stop it, sister! You’re in trouble too!”
“Only because I stayed in touch with my Hunters against Zeus’s wishes,” my sister said. “But I can always charm Father into forgiving me. He’s never been able to stay mad at me. it’s you I’m worried about.”
“I’m worried about me too!” my past self agreed. “We have to do something. We can’t kill Octavian. Hmm. Perhaps we should kill these demigods.”
The laughter died in my throat. I must have heard wrong. That couldn’t be right. I may have been an idiot in the past, I may have been negligent, and perhaps even callous, but there was no way I had seriously suggested murdering the heroes of the prophecy - the young demigods who would become my friends - simply because I felt the need to do something. My first instinct while I was panicking couldn’t have been to murder some innocent demigods who were trying to help rectify the situation, just because I couldn’t murder some other person. I HAD to have that wrong. I HAD to.
I felt Meg turn rigid next to me, immediately falling silent. It was the same way she behaved when reminded of The Beast.
Leo dashed my desperate hope, my denial. “Whoa there, Music Man. We’re on your side, remember? Why would you kill us?” A dash of fear colored Leo’s face as he said all this. I felt my stomach twist. He had really thought there was a chance, however small, that I would actually kill him. And the worst part was, I was pretty sure he was right.
“It might make me feel better!” my stupid, STUPID past self proclaimed. “I have to do something!”
Make me feel better... really? Killing children for no reason might make me feel better? My hand clenched, my knuckles turning white. I wished I had something to smash, but everything here was an illusion, simply a memory.
Leo kept things moving along. “Or you could help us. See, we’ve got this plan...” I calmed down slightly, listening to Leo’s plan. It had worked, and I had helped. I had been stupid in the past, but I HAD still helped. That counted for SOMETHING, right?
I may not have been able to vent, but my past self had no such problem. He stood up. “The physician’s cure?” He smashed his ukulele on the ground. “That’s your plan?”
Meg jumped slightly at my former self’s show of violence. Her expression closed off, as if she was trying to shut out the outside world. I wanted to comfort her, to explain, but we needed to get to a lull in the conversation first. I hoped one arrived soon.
Leo held his hands up, attempting to calm down my former self. “Hey, um, usually I’m all for smashing ukuleles, but-”
“I cannot help you!” My godly self cried. “Yes you can,” I muttered quietly to myself. “You’re just afraid too.”
I at least understood why I had been afraid. It’s not JUST that I was afraid of Zeus hurting me. I still remembered what happened the last time the cure was used, how Zeus had struck down my favorite son. I could take Zeus’s wrath. My loved ones couldn’t.
My former self continued his wailing, “If I told you the secret of the physician’s cure, Zeus would never forgive me!”
I blinked. Actually, neither Zeus nor anyone else had seemed to care too much. I guess Leo got one Get-Out-Of-Death-Free card. Too bad he was the only one, and only once. I was certain that if he died again, he would stay dead.
Leo attempted to persuade him. “You’re already in trouble. How could it get worse?”
I gaped a little at that. Had Leo seriously tried that line of reasoning? ‘How could it get worse?’ What had he been thinking?
My past self must’ve agreed with me. He shot Leo a withering glare. “If you knew what my father was capable of, mortal, you would not ask. It would be simpler if I just smote you all. That might please Zeus-”
I just groaned and buried my face in my hands again. As soon as I got back to reality I was gonna bang my head on the nearest wall. We were back to this again? Seriously? Why would murdering these demigods please Zeus? He didn’t generally take kindly to people murdering his-
My blood turned to ice. I had contemplated killing Jason. Even for a moment, I had thought about it, seriously considered going through with it. I don’t think it would have actually come to that, but the fact that it had even been a possibility in my mind...?
Thankfully my sister, my dear, sweet, sensible sister was there. “Brother...” she said warningly, glaring. The two locked eyes, commencing a mental argument. Artemis won, as usual. My past self sighed and kicked the broken remnants of his ukulele across the stage, a display of his childishness.
My sister stood up. “Hazel Lavesque, Frank Zhang, come with me. There are things you should know about the Twelfth Legion. As for you, Leo Valdez, Apollo will hear you out. See if you can strike a deal. My brother always like a good bargain.”
Frank and Hazel glanced back at Leo as they left, looking worried. A weight dropped into my stomach. They thought he was in danger too. In danger from ME.
I stared longingly at my sister as she left. I’d much rather be with her than with my past self. Sadly, I could not venture beyond the constraints of my memory.
A moment later my godly self turned to Leo, his arms folded, eyes glowing. “Well, Leo Valdez? Let us bargain, then. What can you offer that would convince me to to help you rather than kill you?”
Stop saying that, I silently begged. I GET it, I was a childish, murderous asshole. You don’t need to continue auditioning for the role, you already won an award for the part.
Fingers twitching, Leo talked with my former self. “A bargain. Yes. Absolutely.”
I watched as Leo started assembling that beautiful musical instrument of his, his hands working feverishly as he talked. He was barely even LOOKING at what he was doing. All the while, he continued reasoning with my past self. “So the thing is, Zeus is already pretty P.O.’ed at you, right? If you help us defeat Gaea, you could make it up to him.”
Honestly I doubted that even that would have been enough to quell Zeus’s wrath, but it was a far better plan than ‘murder people’. Speaking of which...
My godly self wrinkled his nose. I guess he really preferred the murder plan over the help-save-the-world plan. “I suppose that’s possible. But it would be easier to smite you.”
Leo wasn’t giving up THAT easily. “What kind of ballad would that make? You’re the god of music, right? Would you listen to a song called ‘Apollo Smites a Runty Little Demigod’? I wouldn’t. But ‘Apollo Defeats the Earth Mother and Saves the Freaking Universe’... that sounds like a Billboard chart-topper!”
At that moment, I was thinking of composing a song titled ‘Apollo is a Stupid Vain Idiot’. I’d have plenty of material to draw from for the lyrics.
At least that argument seemed persuasive. When in doubt, flatter. “What do you want exactly? And what do I get out of it?”
A chance to help a demigod survive, I added silently in my head.
Leo launched into his description of his plan for defeating Gaea. Listening to him, I wasn’t sure how I hadn’t realized his true intentions back then. It was obvious he was planning on implementing it himself. I suppose I just didn’t care much about what he was going to do. It didn’t concern ME, after all. I kept my eyes focused on Leo’s hands, at the brilliant device he was constructing. He seemed to be on auto-pilot.
Finally even my former self noticed that Leo was doing more than just keeping his hands busy. Looking at the strings and levers, I could almost hear the *click* as he realized that what Leo had assembled looked an awful lot like a musical instrument... “What is that you have made?”
Leo stared down at his contraption, as if he’d never seen it before. He looked puzzled, almost as if...
And then I got it.
I gaped at Leo in disbelief. Had he seriously...?
Leo seemed to stall a little. “Oh, this...? Um, well, this is quite simply the most amazing instrument ever!”
He had. He seriously had. He’d invented a musical instrument from scratch in the five minutes he was talking to me, in order to use as a bargaining chip to get me to help him with the physician’s cure and not kill him. And he hadn’t even MEANT to do it. I would have to congratulate Leo on pulling off that feat when we got back to reality... and lecture him about how reckless he’d been, going into this without a plan.
Also, I should probably check Leo’s bloodline. I wondered whether he was one of Hermes’ Legacies...
“How does it work?” my past self inquired.
Leo nervously looked down at his invention, inspecting it. Being familiar with Leo’s expressions and mannerisms, I was pretty sure that he didn’t even KNOW how it worked, and simply made a good guess based on how it was constructed.
Wait. If Leo didn’t even know how to play the Valdezinator at first, I doubted he’d put in some secret scales. He’d tricked me! Oh, I was SO getting him back for that.
Leo’s hands flew over the machine, tweaking a lever here, turning a gear there. The most wonderful melody sprang from the machine, a somewhat sad, longing song. Home. The song was about homesickness, I could tell now. But for Leo, there was more to it.
In his expression, I saw the longing of a lover long separated, much like Odysseus’s longing for home.
Odysseus. Ogygia. That song was for Calypso. Yet he had played it for me, to obtain my help. I felt strangely honored that he would share such a private melody with me.
When he had finished, there wasn’t a dry face around. Even Meg was enraptured my the music, tears flowing down her face. I imagine that she knew something about missing home from those long years after she was taken from her childhood home, from her father, and forced to work for Nero.
My godly self was just as transfixed by the instrument as I was. “I must have it. What is it called? What do you want for it?”
Leo hugged the instrument to himself at those words for a few seconds. Then a look of resignation, and a moment later, determination passed over him.
He hadn’t wanted to part with the machine. It must’ve been one of the few things that had reminded him of his girlfriend, but he had done it so that he could get what he needed, and return to her. I decided that when I had obtained the instrument again, I’d let Leo borrow it on occasion. He’d invented it, it was only right.
Leo bluffed for all he was worth... though considering that the instrument lived up to his praise, perhaps it was less a “bluff”, and more just ‘quickly pulling a sales pitch out of nowhere based on things he’s figured out in the last ten seconds and hopes are actually correct.’ “This is the Valdezinator, of course! It works by, um, translating your feeling into music as you manipulate the gears. It’s really meant for me, a child of Hephaestus, to use, though. I don’t know if you could-”
Ah, a CHALLENGE. He knew me well. Seriously, even though he had just met me, he played me like a fiddle.
“I am the god of music! I can certainly master the Valdezinator. I must! It is my duty!”
Oh how I hoped I’d actually be able to do that. I had only just begun unlocking that marvelous instrument’s secrets when Artemis and I had felt our Greek and Roman halves unite and had promptly raced off to help fight the Giants.
“So let’s wheel and deal, Music Man. I give you this; you give me the physician’s cure.”
“Oh... Well, I don’t actually have the physician’s cure.”
“I thought you were the god of medicine.”
I rolled my eyes. Being the god of something didn’t mean I knew everything about it, or that I was best at every aspect of it. When would mortals learn that? Then again, us gods tended to get pretty upset if they suggested such a thing, so perhaps it wasn’t too surprising that they assumed we had more power and expertise over our domains than we actually did.
My godly self explained, “Yes, but I’m the god of many things! Poetry, music, the Delphic Oracle-” here he let out a large sob. “Sorry. I’m fine, I’m fine. As I was saying, I have many spheres of influence. Then, of course, I have the who ‘sun god’ gig, which I inherited from Helios. The point is, I’m rather like a general practitioner. For the physician’s cure, you need a specialist - the only one who has ever cured death: My son Asclepius, the god of healers.”
Ah, Asclepius. I’d have to see if I could visit him. It’d been awhile. I wondered whether Zeus would allow Asclepius to help me, or if he had forbidden Asclepius as well as Artemis from giving me assistance.
Leo clearly wasn’t going to give up that easily. He played a few more notes, tempting my godly self even more. “That’s a shame, Apollo. I was hoping we could make a deal.”
My former self was putty in Leo’s hands at that point. I was a sucker for musical instruments. “Stop! It’s too beautiful! I’ll give you directions to Asclepius. He’s really very close!”
“How do we know he’ll help us? We’ve only got two days until Gaea wakes.”
“He’ll help! My son is very helpful. Just plead with him in my name.You’ll find him at his old temple in Epidaurus.”
Come to think of it, I’d have to ask Leo how that visit had gone. Asclepius didn’t get a lot of visitors, what with his guards preventing most visitors, so I’d imagine he was pretty pleased to have some new company.
“What’s the catch?”
“Ah... well, nothing. Except, of course, he’s guarded.”
“Guarded by what?”
“I don’t know!”
I didn’t know? Had it really been so long? When was the last time I even tried to check on him? A decade ago? A century? I resolved to visit him as soon as was feasible. I’d been neglecting so many of my family members...
“I only know Zeus is keeping Asclepius under guard so he doesn’t go running around the world resurrecting people. The first time Asclepius raised the dead... well, he caused quite an uproar. It’s a long story. But I’m sure you can convince him to help.”
‘Quite an uproar’. Well that was an understatement. Zeus killed Asclepius, I killed some Cyclopes, Zeus made me mortal, and made Asclepius a god.
“This isn’t sounding like much of a deal.” Well sorry Leo, but I honestly COULDN’T help more than that. Well, except for... “What about the last ingredient- the curse of Delos. What is it?”
My godly self stared entranced at the Valdezinator. Leo started looking concerned. I think he may have thought I would just take the thing... which I wouldn’t have. Stealing instruments from their inventor would only discourage others from innovating in the future. I suppose Leo didn’t know that though. I’d certainly given him no reason to believe that I was fair or reasonable.
“I can give the last ingredient to you. Then you’ll have everything Asclepius needs to brew the potion.”
Leo wheedled some more, playing the instrument a little to make sure I was maximally tempted. “I dunno. Trading this beautiful Valdezinator for some Delos curse-”
It worked.
“It’s not actually a curse! Look...” my past self plucked a flower. “This is the curse of Delos.”
“A cursed daisy?”
Well, in a manner of speaking...
My past self sighed. “That’s just a nickname. When my mother, Leto, was ready to give birth to Artemis and me, Hera was angry, because Zeus had cheated on her again. So she went around to every single landmass on earth. She made the nature spirits in each place promise to turn my mother away so she couldn’t give birth anywhere.”
Honestly, didn’t Hera have anything better to do with her time?
“Sounds like something Hera would do.”
“I know, right? Anyway, Hera exacted promises from every land that was rooted on the earth- but not from Delos, because back then Delos was a floating island. The nature spirits of Delos welcomed my mother. She gave birth to my sister and me, and the island was so happy to be our new sacred home it covered itself in these little yellow flowers. The flowers are a blessing, because we’re awesome. But they also symbolize a curse, because once we were born, Delos got rooted in place and wasn’t able to drift around the sea anymore. That’s why yellow daisies are called the curse of Delos.”
Honestly I’d prefer for them to be called ‘the blessing of Delos’. It sounded better to me. Alas, ‘the curse of Delos’ had stuck somehow.
“So I could have just picked the daisy myself and walked away.”
“No, no! Not for the potion you have in mind. The flower would have to be picked by either my sister or me. So what do you say, demigod? Directions to Asclepius and your last magical ingredient in exchange for that new musical instrument- do we have a deal?”
Leo sounded slightly reluctant, but he want through with it,“You drive a hard bargain, Music Man.”
“Excellent!”
The items exchanged hands. I let out a breath and smiled. I’d helped Leo survive. I may have needed to be bribed, but I had still helped to save my friend.
My godly self experimented with the Valdezinator. It made a strange revving noise. I remembered trying to learn how to play it. I don’t know how Leo picked it up so easily. Even as a god, it took me a while to figure out even the basics of how to play it. “Hmm... perhaps it’ll take some practice, but I’ll get it! Now let us find your friends. The sooner you leave the better!”
The world blurred around Meg and I. I instinctively moved closer to her. Meg stayed stock still, still closed off.
I wanted to ask her what was wrong, but then the world resolved.
We were in the middle of a lush green park, satyrs and nymphs scampering around, having fun. Looking around, I spotted Percy and Grover talking close behind me, Juniper not far from them.
Meg perked up slightly, watching the scene with interest.
The scene didn’t remain that peaceful for long.
The sunlight increased in intensity, becoming brighter and brighter. Steam emitted from the grass, as if it was boiling, though I saw no scorch marks. When the steam cleared, there I was, smiling like I was about to present the most coveted prize in the world.
Grover muttered “Oh no.. This can’t be good.”, looking at me with dread. My face fell. The fact that I could hear that now, in this memory, meant I heard it then too and just chose to ignore it.
I struggled, trying to remember what had happened here. Percy and Grover had helped me retrieve something I was missing, I remembered that much. I remembered them being delighted to help me however, so I was afraid that I might have revised my memories after the fact. They certainly didn’t look pleased at the moment.
“Percy Jackson!” My godly self bellowed. “And, um, your goat friend-”
“His name is Grover,” Percy cut in. “And we’re kind of off-duty, Lord Apollo. It’s Grover’s birthday.”
It had been Grover’s birthday? I didn’t remember that at all. Which meant... I’d ruined Grover’s birthday, hadn’t I. My shoulders slumped. I was amazed Grover wasn’t more irritated with me when Meg summoned him in Indiana, if this was the most significant interaction I’d had with him.
“Happy birthday!” My past self congratulated. “I’m so glad you’re taking the day off. That means you two have time to help me with a little problem!”
Clearly I hadn’t known what ‘day off’ meant- or more accurately, I hadn’t cared.
My past self led Percy and Grover away from the rest of the group. I watched as Juniper clung to Grover, as if afraid she’d never see him again. It reminded me of how Frank and Hazel looked when they had left Leo with me. Was this a common thing? For people to be afraid to leave me alone with the people they cared about, but unable to protest due to my godhood?
After a few minutes of walking, my godly self stopped. “Allow me to introduce, the Chryseae Celedones.” He snapped his fingers. Three golden women materialized. Percy looked wary, stepping back a little.
“Uh...What did you say these were? Krissy Kelly something?”
“Chryseae Celedones,” my former self corrected. “Golden singers. They’re my backup band!”
Grover gaped at the mechanical women, his eyes bulging. “I- I didn’t think they were real!”
Huh/ I’d have to perform with them a little more often, if people didn’t even know they existed. From the looks of it, Grover would probably enjoy the concert.
My past self laughed. “Well, it’s been a few centuries since I brought them out. If they perform too often, you know, their novelty wears off. They used to live at my temple at Delphi. Man, they could rock that place. Now I only use them for special occasions.”
Ah, I remembered those long ago days. I made sure to host a concert with them at least once per a mortal’s lifetime, so that every Pythian Oracle had a chance to hear them. I’d have to break them out of storage so that Rachel could attend a concert with them, once I was back on Olympus of course. Maybe hold a concert at camp? It could be a special one, mainly for the campers. If gods wanted to attend, they’d have to actually come down... which meant that their kids could see them. Hm...
Grover had misunderstood. “You brought them out for my birthday?”
Considering I hadn’t even KNOWN it was his birthday, I’d say no. My godly self quickly disabused Grover of that notion... though he was a bit of a jerk about it. “No, fool! I’ve got a concert tonight on Mount Olympus. Everyone is going to be there! The Nine Muses are opening, I’m performing a mix of old favorites and new material. I mean, it’s not like I need the Celedones. My solo career has been great. But people will expect to hear some of my classic hits with the girls: ‘Daphne on my Mind’, ‘Stairway to Olympus’. ‘Sweet Home Atlantis’. It’s going to be awesome!”
A concert with the Nine Muses... I’d promised Crest he’d get to play with me. I sobbed a little, thinking of him turning to dust in my arms.
Withdrawn as she was, Meg still looked concerned at my distress. She hesitantly placed a hand on my arm, but looked ready to flee at the slightest sign of trouble. I flashed her a grateful smile. She looked away, not meeting my eyes... but she kept her hand where it was.
Percy didn’t look thrilled at the prospect of my concert for some reason. Actually, he just generally seemed to wish I wasn’t there. I couldn’t blame him. I’d already noticed that there were only three Celedones, not four, and I remembered issuing a quest to Percy and Grover. He wanted a day off, and I’d ruined that.
“Great. So what’s the problem?” Percy said resignedly.
My godly self demonstrated the problem “Listen.” He commanded them to sing, just a single note. To me, their music sounded slightly empty. It needed that last singer. But to everyone else...
Percy and Grover stared at the automatons, enthralled. I caught Meg staring at them too, though she looked slightly less bewitched than the other two. Perhaps traveling with me had given her a more discerning ear?
A few moments later the girls slowly died down, releasing the mortals from their stupor. Percy stammered out “That... That was amazing.”
By his standards, sure, but by my godly self’s standards? “Amazing? There are only three of them! Their harmonies are empty. I can’t perform without the full quartet.”
Grover sobbed, “They’re so beautiful. They’re perfect!”
Maybe I should warn Grover away from the concert. I doubted that Juniper would appreciate how much her boyfriend seemed to adore the Celedones.
My past self seemed miffed that the mortals didn’t realize the problem. “They’re not perfect, Mr. Satyr.” I groaned. Seriously, he had a name! If you’re asking them for help, the least you could do is remember who you’re asking! “I need all four or the concert will be ruined. Unfortunately, my fourth Celedon went rogue this morning. I can’t find her anywhere.”
Percy seemed confused. “Uh... how does a backup singer go rogue?”
My godly self commanded the Celedones to sigh a depressing note, bringing the mood down.He explained, “They’re out of warranty. Hephaestus made them back for me in the old days, and they worked fine... until the day after their two-thousandth year warranty expired. Then naturally, WHAM! The fourth one goes haywire and runs off to the big city. Of course I tried to complain to Hephaestus, but he’s all Well, did you have my Protection Plus package? And I’m like, I didn’t want your stupid extended warranty! And he acts as if it’s my fault the Celedon broke, and says if I’d bought the Plus package, I could’ve had a dedicated service hotline, but-”
Ugh, I SWEAR Hephaestus does this kind of thing on purpose. He insists it’s coincidence, but after the fourth time something worked perfectly for thousands of years, then started malfunctioning within the week after the warranty expired, I stopped believing him.
Percy wasn’t interested in hearing the full story. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. So if you know that your Celedon is in the city, why can’t you look for her yourself?”
Because I was lazy and considered my time to be far more valuable than theirs, I silently replied. What my past self actually said however, was, “I don’t have time! I have to practice. Besides, this is what heroes are for.”
The look on Percy’s face as he muttered “Running the gods’ errands,” reminded me of how I had looked when Britomartis had demanded that Calypso and I go and fetch her griffins, and that that took priority over finding Georgina because she was a goddess, so her needs were more important than Jo’s or Emmie’s. When I’d wondered whether heroes were ever annoyed at ungrateful and had to restrain themselves, but I had dismissed the idea, not wanting to admit that it was probably the case. Enough had happened that I refused to delude myself any longer.
Percy muttered, “Running the gods’ errands,” resignedly.
“Exactly.”
No. That was NOT what heroes were for. I’d SEEN heroes fight for their friends... and die in place of them. Jason. Crest. Heloise. They were heroes. They’d fought until their last breath to protect the people they cared about. To see MYSELF treat heroes as errand boys, as mere servants to cater to the gods’ whims... I had a sudden urge to punch myself in my smiling, oblivious divine face.
Sadly, I could not. Apollo continued on, explaining the quest. “I assume the missing Celedon is roaming the Theater District, looking for a suitable place to audition. Celedons have the usual starlet dreams - being discovered, headlining a Broadway musical, that sort of thing. Most of the time I can keep their ambitions under control. I mean, I can’t have them upstaging me, can I? But I’m sure without me around she thinks she’s the next Katy Perry. You two need to get her before she causes any problems. And hurry! The concert is tonight, and Manhattan is a large island.”
Grover summarized the situation nicely, “So... you want us to find her, while you do sound checks?”
“Think of it as a favor. Not just for me, but for all the mortals in Manhattan.”
Well at least I hadn’t portrayed it as ME doing the favor of ALLOWING them to help me. I’d had THAT much awareness, at least.
Wait... for all the mortals? Why would it be a favor for...?
Oh.
Oh NO.
Grover realized at the same time I did. Had the same reaction too. “Oh. Oh NO...”
Grover looked completely terrified, a feeling that I had become well acquainted with over my past few months as a mortal. Terrified not for himself, but for the innocent humans just going about their day.
Percy still hadn’t caught on. “What? What oh no?”
“Percy, if that Celedon starts singing in public, in the middle of an afternoon rush hour-”
“She’ll cause no end of havoc,” my past self cut in. “She might sing a love song, or a lullaby, or a patriotic war tune, and whatever the mortals hear...”
This had gone beyond me just annoying some heroes and ruining Grover’s birthday. By not trying to get the Celedon back as soon as possible myself, I had endangered countless mortal lives, simply because I wanted to practice for a concert. If anyone had died or had been irreparably been injured because of my negligence, I’d never forgive myself. It would be just another thing to add to my list of mistakes.
At least I’d gone to some capable heroes. I might have ruined Grover’s birthday, but I didn’t have to worry about them having too much trouble. Grover and Percy were both very capable, they could easily handle a rogue singer.
“She has to be stopped. But why us?” Percy questioned.
Because you’re strong and you’re conveniently nearby, I wanted to answer. Instead my past self stated, “I like you!”
Yes, and if you REALLY liked them, you’d go away and retrieve her yourself. Sadly, I could be annoyed at my past self all I wanted. It didn’t change what had happened.
Of course, that wasn’t the ONLY reason I had gone with them...
“You’ve faced the Sirens before. This isn’t too different. Just put some wax in your ears. Plus your friend Grover is a satyr. He has natural resistance to magical music. Plus he can play the lyre.”
Well at least I bothered remembering Grover’s name this time. Hopefully I’d keep up that trend.
Percy seemed perplexed. “What lyre?”
My godly self summoned my personal lyre. I had created it after I gave my old one, the one Hermes had created when he ran off with my cattle, to Orpheus.
At least I was giving them some much-needed equipment to make things easier.
Grover realized the importance of what he held. “Oh! I couldn’t! This is your-”
“Yes. That’s my own personal lyre. Of course, if you damage it, I’ll incinerate you, but I’m sure you’ll be careful! You do know how to play the lyre, don’t you?”
...
really
REALLY?!
I just HAD to make that threat?
I’d hoped that I was only that much of a murderous asshole because I was so stressed, but NO, I just casually made those threats. They didn’t even want any part of this, I’d forced it on them!
Meg let go of my arm, turning to glare at me. I opened my mouth to try to talk to her, but we weren’t quite done with this scene.
Grover plucked a few notes, looking very, very uncertain. “Ummm...”
“Keep practicing. You’ll need the lyre’s magic to capture the Celedon. Have Percy distract her while you play.”
“Distract her,” Percy repeated, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing... or like he didn’t WANT to believe it, but knew he’d heard exactly right.
My godly self naturally either didn’t notice or didn’t care how Percy felt about all this. “Excellent! I’ll meet you at the Empire State Building at sunset. Bring me the Celedon. One way or another, I’ll persuade Hephaestus to fix her. Just don’t be late! I can’t keep my audience waiting. And remember, not a scratch on that lyre.”
My godly self disappeared. The world blurred. When it came back into focus, we were on a stage. My godly self began starting his sound checks. I took the opportunity to finally have a much-needed conversation with Meg. She still stood beside me, refusing to meet my eyes.
“Meg?” I ventured, asking as gently as possible. I didn’t want to scare or upset her more than I already had.
She stayed silent for a minute. Finally she mumbled something.
“What?” I asked, unable to hear her properly.
She mumbled a little more loudly this time. “The Beast.”
Huh? What did Nero have to do with this?
“What about the Beast?” I asked quietly.
She hesitated, picking her words carefully... as if she was afraid of the consequences if she didn’t.
“That... that was your Beast right, threatening our friends? You were holding him back. You stopped him from hurting them, right?”
No.
NO.
NONONONONONONONONONONONONO
My heart shattered.
I was NOT letting Meg go down that train of thought. I would NOT play Nero’s little game of pretend. Maybe she’d hate and fear me. But at least she’d know it was ME that was to blame, NO ONE ELSE.
I sat on the stage, trying to get down to Meg’s height to seem less imposing.
I looked her in the eye. “Meg. That was me. There is no Beast. There was NEVER a Beast. It was JUST. ME. I was being an idiot, a murderous, stupid, selfish idiot. Leo, Grover, Percy? They had done NOTHING wrong. NONE of them deserved my threats, deserved to think I might hurt them. What I said was WRONG, and I’m sorry. I can’t justify those threats. I won’t even try. Just know this; I WON’T do that again. If you ever thought I was going down that path - if you were EVER afraid that I was reverting to being that sort of asshole again, once I was a god - then contact Artemis. If by some miracle I regain my godhood, I’ll make sure you have some way to contact her, something more secure than an Iris message. I want you and the other mortals to feel SAFE around me, to know that I won’t hurt you. If you or any others still can’t trust me, that’s okay. You don’t have to forgive me for how I behaved in the past. Your trust is yours to give, and yours to withhold. You can take as much time as you wish, forever if you want to. I’ll still try to prove myself worthy of it.”
Meg looked back at me, emotions blurring across herself. Finally she scrunched up her face and looked at me, meeting my eyes this time. “You were stupid. But if you’re gonna be better now, then I think I can forgive you. But you need to apologize to everyone, and don’t do it again.”
I let out a sharp laugh as tears of relief sprang from my eyes. “Yes. Yes, I’ll do that. Next time we see Frank, Hazel, Leo, Percy, or Grover, I’ll do that.”
She hesitated for another moment. I waited. I wasn’t going to rush her.
“Would you have gone through with them? With your threats?”
I wanted to say no, of course not, I was just bluffing... but I wasn’t entirely sure. I didn’t think I would...
“No. No, I wouldn’t have,” I said at last. I sounded painfully unsure, even to myself.
Meg bit her lip and looked away again.
The world blurred again. It seemed that this part was on fast forward.
We reappeared at the park. Grover and Percy arrived a couple minutes later, looking bedraggled, but mostly unharmed.
“Excellent!” my godly self cried out, taking the caged Celedon from them. “I’ll get Hephaestus to fix her up, and this time I’m not taking any excuses about expired warranties! My show starts in half an hour!”
“You’re welcome,” Percy muttered. Yep, he definitely felt the same way I had after Britomartis had given me faint praise after retrieving her griffins.
I glanced at the lyre Grover was holding,and his fearful expression. There was a scratch on its side.
Oh no.
As Grover handed the lyre back to him, my godly self caught sight of the scratch. His expression turned angry and closed off. “You scratched it.” Meg went rigid again, breathing short shallow breaths. The air thickened with tension.
Grover whimpered “Lord Apollo-”. I resolved to buy him as many tin cans as he could eat and give him a long, LONG apology for this. Seeing him this scared of me, legitimately afraid that I would incinerate him, made me want to punch myself even more.
Luckily, Percy interfered before my godly self did something he couldn’t take back. “It was the only way to catch the Celedon. Besides, it’ll buff out. Get Hephaestus to do it. He owes you, right?”
A moment later, my past self grunted his agreement, his expression softening again. “I suppose you’re right. Well, good job, you two! As your reward, you’re invited to watch me perform on Mount Olympus!”
Meg’s breathing slowed down to a normal speed and her muscles loosened. I also relaxed a little. I hadn’t gone through with my threat. I hadn’t been that far gone, even then.
Grover and Percy glanced at each other, clearly wanting no part of that. I couldn’t see why. I might think that my past self was an asshole, but that didn’t stop me from being an asshole with superb musical skills.
Percy hurriedly found a way out of the invitation. “We aren’t worthy. We’d love to, really, but you know, we’d probably explode or something if we heard your godly music at full volume.”
All true - except for the ‘not being worthy’ part - but I could tell it was an excuse. My past self wasn’t nearly as perceptive. “You’re right. It might distract from my performance if you exploded. How considerate of you. Well, I’m off, then. Happy birthday Percy!”
Seriously? I BOUGHT that? Also, I STILL believed that it was Percy’s birthday? It’s not like his birthday was hugely significant to the fate of the world, OH WAIT.
Meg snorted out a small laugh. I was glad that at least she could find a little humor in my stupidity. At least I was good for SOMETHING.
I blinked, and we were both back at Camp Jupiter. I collapsed on the floor. That had been emotionally exhausting.
Meg sat a short distance from me, looking at her hands. “Hey,” I muttered quietly to her, still trying to appear as non-threatening as possible. “Let’s get up. I need to start making some apologies.”
She smiled slightly and stood up. Together we walked out of the tent to find our friends.
#trials of apollo#meg mccaffrey#lester papadopoulos#apollo#fanfiction#the trials of apollo#toa#leo valdez#percy jackson#grover underwood#blood of olympus#singer of apollo
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Air: “Endgame”
Eleven episodes and a two-week hiatus later (oops!)~~
My praise, my wishes, and my feelings of the season finale of Book I.
[Heart eyes.]
Oh, Bo. What would we do without you.
As always, he gifted us with his silly and endearing humor,
but he also starred in some fantastic collabs.
Bolin x Naga
Bolin x General Iroh
Honestly, Bolin x Any Character <--- now that’s my kind of ship.
General Iroh is just as stupidly fearsome and heroic as his grandfather.
This is fact.
His stunt with the planes?
Cray.
I’m looking forward to seeing more of him in the future, preferably in the same scene(s) as Zuko because that’s something I desperately need in my life.
My favorite Mako: protective and powerful.
Let’s not forget, he can break free of Noatak’s bloodbending!!!
Korra---the freakin’ Avatar---couldn’t even do that! At least, not at first.
Amon admits it himself: “I'm impressed. No one has ever gotten the better of me like that. It is almost a shame to take the bending of someone so talented.”
I hope Mako’s talents become focal points in the next books. Please, oh please don’t revert him back to a frustrating, lovesick puppy who can’t make up his damn mind. It really doesn’t do his character justice.
Speaking of lovesick puppies...
Without a doubt, Mako and Korra had the most compelling scenes of the entire episode (and not because they were fighting Noatak).
Canon couple or not, these two make a great team. They obviously care about each other, but they’re fiercely protective of one another as well, and that’s what makes their chemistry so palpable.
Although I wasn’t over the moon about dropping the love bombs, even I recognize how heartwarming their moments were.
Take, for example, the penultimate scene of the finale:
Recap: Mako tells Korra he loves her, Korra dramatically runs away with Naga, and Tenzin tells Mako they have to be patient with her, which is old people code for “give her some space.”
If you ask me, that’s shitty advice.
In real life, I want someone to go after me, even if I say I want to be alone or I tell people to go away.
Yes, I am that person.
So you best believe my heart SOARED when the boy chased after the girl:
At first, Mako’s shocked.
No surprise there.
He just witnessed Korra in the Avatar State, which means 1) her bending is back and 2) the Avatar State is no joke!! The glowing eyes!! The command of the four elements at your fingertips!! That’s hardcore, bro!!
But then he fondly smiles at her, which I wholeheartedly interpret as “Ah, yes. That’s my girl.”
And look at her face!!
These two aren’t endgame, so I’m allowing myself to savor in the swoon.
FYI: If there’s anything you should know about me, it’s that I’m a sucker for cheek caresses.
Twirling hugs also make me a lil weak in the knees.
Running to someone and barreling into their arms is just stupid cute.
[Heavy sigh.]
I was really rooting for Asami.
After Chapter 7, I thought we were going to see how Asami was coping with the reveal of her father’s conspiring nature. Instead, her character seemed to revolve more around the love triangle (or whatever shape you want to call the ridiculous Asami x Mako x Korra situation). When Asami does mention her father, it’s only a sparse comment every other episode or so.
Thus, the showdown between father and daughter lacks an emotional weight, and it’s partly because we haven’t explored enough of their relationship to truly feel for these characters.
That isn’t to say their sequence doesn’t have powerful moments.
I just want to take a moment to holla at ma boy @Jeremy Zuckerman, sole music composer.
Your music is always stunning, but the accompanying track in Asami and Hiroshi’s showdown (plus the music in the boat scene and everything in the third act) is what carries the entire segment.
Your melodies tugged at my heartstrings in ways the story couldn’t.
Their final fight, for instance:
Asami is so caught up in the battle---defending herself against her father, no less---that you think she might actually do it, she might actually hurt him.
But then he’s looking at her like this,
and she starts to hesitate (this is her father after all),
which is the exact moment Hiroshi strikes.
In the end, Asami captures her father, but not without remorse: “You really are a horrible father.”
Dear Creators,
Please give your characters the emotional depth they deserve and explore the nuances of their relationships.
Trust me: they can lift the weight of their stories just fine.
I am unbelievably disappointed in Noatak’s arc.
I just---
I mean---
How?
How are you going to build the foundation of a character on a lie?
How are you going to develop that character’s arc for ten episodes, then discredit almost everything with deceit??
How are you going to completely undermine your character like that???
And to add insult to injury, Noatak keeps lying, going so far as to reveal a fake, painted scar:
Here’s the thing: Zuko is my world.
Of all the characters from Avatar: The Last Airbender, I found pieces of myself in his story the most. Scars, then, are sore subjects for me; sometimes, I feel like I’m as sensitive about his scar as he was.
Yes, I jumped in my seat upon first seeing Noatak’s “scar,” but make no mistake---I’d rip that lie off his face in a heartbeat.
Undermining your character with lies is bad enough, but this shit felt like mockery, and while I’m certain that wasn’t the creators’ intents, I’m taking it personally anyway.
However, attention should be paid to Noatak’s last scene:
Again, the music is so beautifully somber, but the dialogue here is probably some of the episode’s best.
From Noatak’s “I had almost forgotten the sound of my own name,” to Tarrlok’s "It will be just like the good old days.”
From the tear that rolls down Noatak’s cheek,
to Tarrlok's decision to sacrifice them both.
It doesn’t make up for butchering Noatak’s arc, but this was, quite simply, a beautiful ending to a sad story.
Dear Creators,
Please don’t make the same mistake twice.
You compromised the integrity of your character the moment you sacrificed a fleshed out plot for woaw!shock factor.
Villain or not, he deserved better.
Also, I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU.
It was at this moment that I wanted to jump into the screen and rescue Tenzin and his beautiful children myself.
LOOK AT THEIR FACES.
I WAS SO MAD.
LIKE:
HOW COULD YOU.
It should be said: I loved Korra in this episode.
I mean, she was pretty daft to think that hiding under a table would keep her safe from a bloodbender. A bloodbender (a psychic one at that) can feel your blood, Korra, of course he knows you’re under there.
So just for that:
Yeah, don’t you look all silly and fuzzy.
Aside from this idiotic little slip, she was pretty badass, unlocking her airbending and fighting against Noatak’s bloodbending:
What a crappy screenshot of her airbending, haha. Would you believe me if I said this was genuinely the best I could do?
And unlike Asami and her father, I actually felt for Korra. I was devastated when Katara couldn’t repair her severed connection to the other three elements.
Though I wonder if I felt more for Korra because she acted just as I would. That is, she’s clearly distraught over losing her bending, but she wants to spare her friends and family the trouble of making a scene:
So she waits until she’s alone to let it all go:
:’-(
As I said, I loved and felt for Korra in the finale, and I don’t have a problem with her...
I have a problem with the writing.
Korra’s airbending was very badass, but I completely forgot about her airbending struggles.
The first four episodes show Korra’s conflict with the element (i.e., it’s literally the plot line of Chapter 2). If anything, these episodes have small moments that remind us of Korra’s airbending training---practicing in the temple’s courtyard or doing exercises with the kids, to name a few examples.
Then, in Chapter 8, Tarrlok insults her with the “half-baked Avatar” comment, snidely remarking on her less than satisfactory airbending. It’s in this same episode that Korra reminds Tenzin---and the audience---that she’s never been able to connect with her spiritual side. (More on this later!)
And... that’s it.
After the eighth episode, she’s kidnapped by Tarrlok, who reveals himself as a bloodbender; she’s rescued but then Amon and Hiroshi attack Republic City, separating Korra and the teens from Tenzin, his family, and Lin; Korra decides to take Amon on her own (but not really because Mako decides to tag along) and the two of them bump into Tarrlok, who reveals that Amon is actually his long-lost, waterbending, psychic bloodbending brother, Noatak.
It’s not necessarily a bad thing. If the creators were prioritizing awe! and shock! and woaw!, then unlocking Korra’s airbending this way definitely did the job. But it felt a little too... convenient? Plus, there was no explanation for why her airbending worked when it did.
I mean, saving Mako obviously had something to do with it, and they didn’t have time to get into the details because, duh, they were trying to restore Korra’s bending.
Still, the audience shouldn’t have to interpret everything.
(Or perhaps I’m just being petty, lol.)
For a book titled after the element, I guess I just expected more.
Ultimately, I wish we saw Korra practicing more airbending; I wish we got an explanation for how and why she airbended when she did; I wish her success in unlocking her final element had not been overshadowed by the loss of her water-, earth-, and firebending.
Which brings me here, to this special moment:
I cried.
100%.
And the gentle, yet all too familiar Avatar theme playing in the background? Yeah, I was a puddle of tears.
However, as nostalgic as this was, I wasn’t too pleased at how quickly Korra’s bending was restored because it felt like the creators were taking shortcuts again.
For the record, I like that Noatak took Korra’s bending away (though I would have liked a more epic battle?), as it debunked the whole “the Avatar is invincible” concept. But, really? A quick touch of Aang’s fingers and her bending is restored, just like that?
Maybe it’s just me, but I would’ve loved to see Korra struggling to get her bending back. Perhaps we could’ve seen her retraining and relearning the other elements, which is something I still feel we were robbed of.
Furthermore, as much as I enjoyed seeing Aang and all the former Avatar reincarnations, I didn’t like that this was also the moment Korra connected with her spiritual side. Similar to her airbending moment, I forgot about her spiritual struggles; the issue is last mentioned in Chapter 8 and, before that, all the way back in Chapter 1. But, honestly, I think the ease and convenience of this moment lends to the problematic pacing of Book I as a whole.
Dear Creators,
While I thank you for restoring Korra and Lin’s bending, please don’t resort to convenient endings. I recognize that you only had twelve episodes, but please, no more shortcuts.
Your story will suffer.
Your characters will suffer, too.
p.s., I’m sorry for being so mean to you. I have a lot of feelings, is all.
Cheers to Book II, though!
Parting Thoughts
Before sitting down to write the finale’s review, I took a two-week break.
In that time, I rewatched (and re-rewatched) the entire first book.
I even had time to indulge in the fifth season of The Great British Baking Show.
Shameless Plug:
I absolutely recommend this charming baking competition.
You learn quite a lot about the science and precision of baking, endure (but also adore) countless baking puns, and witness what true competition looks like. That is, genuine camaraderie, rooting for your fellow bakers to succeed, and sometimes, lending them a hand if they’re pressed for time.
Warning: do not watch late at night. You will reach for a baguette.
And yet, I still feel meh about Book I.
The season has its share of success: the music is as impeccable as ever and the technological and industrial components of the Avatar-Korra universe are developing and expanding nicely.
However, it will always come down to the story, and the writing just wasn’t up to par.
Truthfully, the real triumphs are the characters, who---after only twelve episodes---have built a home for themselves in my heart:
Although, our bright, blue-eyed Avatar still has much to learn.
(i.e., how to stop being an impatient little dumdum)
But take heart...
Her story’s only just begun.
From Beginning to End:
“Thanks for looking out for me, Aang.”
credits
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Finding the Time to Study Fic 2 [Day 3]
Here is my starting post for today’s study break stories session. See this post for more details and feel free to send me asks to keep me going! It’s been a lot of fun so far! I will reblog this post with the story as I write them today.
If you are a new follower or just don’t want all of these posts clogging your dash, please feel free to block the tag “study break stories” as all posts and voting about it will go there. You can still see the finished product of the story even if you are blocking that tag as I will not tag the edited chapters with “study break stories” but with the (TBD) name of the fic.
Chapter 1 and what I have finished of chapter 2 are under the cut.
I probably won’t be studying too much today, but I wanted to get a bit done. I’ll be constantly looking for ideas of times and places for Janus to have missions, so feel free to send in any you can think of at any point!
Chapter 1
The words in front of him seemed to squirm back and forth across the screen as he watched, despite the fact that he’d bought this screen to prevent that exact thing from happening. The ‘d’s and ‘p’s and ‘b’s seemed to blur together into a sludge of incomprehensible nonsense, just like the voices around him seemed to. He wasn’t quite sure how long he’d sat there staring at this report. Time itself seemed almost like the words and the people, it swirled past him in a blur of sounds and colors, but he never could quite grab ahold of it.
Something smacked him in the forehead, and he startled, looking up. “Remus,” Janus sighed. He picked up the projectile that had just been lobbed at him. “Did you steal paper from the 20th century supply again?” he asked, staring at the folded-up piece of white paper in the shape of a crane. It was one of Remus’s favorite designs. “That’s not what it’s for.”
“There’s a message inside!” Remus replied, happily.
Janus glared at him and carefully unfolded the paper. He squinted at it, and yeah, that was way worse than the screen. Maybe it was worth his money. Or maybe Remus’s handwriting was just horrendous.
He squinted at it for a few moments and then looked back up. He blinked at his surroundings. The note had said ‘Go home. Work ended three hours ago.’ and that certainly seemed accurate considering he and Remus were the only people left in the office.
“I still have to finish this report about the New Easter Island mission,” he said to Remus.
“I’ll do it,” Remus said. “You’ve been working without a break for hours, and I probably owe the agency some time since I took a coffee break to 22nd century France this afternoon.”
“You what?” Janus asked.
”They have the best coffee,” Remus said, and then grinned wolfishly, “and the best guys.”
“Stop doing that stuff,” Janus hissed. “Your lucky I haven’t reported you already.”
“You wouldn’t,” Remus said, very sure of himself. “You like me too much. Plus, without me, you’ll forget to go home and sleep every night. So, it’d be a loose-loose. Now up! It’s time for you to go home.”
Janus sighed and stood. “Fine,” he said. “I’m going, but that report better be done like you said or I will report you for your coffee excursions.”
“Sure, you will,” Remus said. “Now shoo.”
Janus spared him one more glare before standing from his desk and waving his hand through the air. The machine at his wrist buzzed softly and the display screen lit up around him. He jabbed a finger at the last of the three pre-set locations and, with a feeling like he’d just stepped into a pool of softened butter, he was home.
He groaned and fell back onto his couch immediately. “Time?” he asked.
“1:57am,” a soft voice said from his ceiling. He groaned. Considering the agency liked to keep their schedules aligned even though his house sat almost 2 millennia before the agency even existed, he’d have to be up in 4 hours to head back to work. They said it was to ‘stop them from experiencing time jet lag’ and ‘maintain their circadian rhythm,’ but with Janus it usually just ended up with him ‘not getting enough sleep’ and ‘suffering greatly.’
Sure, he had been fine with it, encouraged the policy even, when the agency was created, but that had been before he’d had to live it.
His stomach suddenly grumbled, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten since before the mission he’d been on earlier that day. He was exhausted, but he also knew trying to go to bed this hungry would result in him not being able to sleep at all. He dragged himself to his feet and into one of the barstools at the kitchen island. He didn’t want to wait for the auto cook feature to cook him something and he especially didn’t want to cook something himself, so he pressed a few buttons on the side of the counter and a protein infused, still cold pop tart popped out of the table.
He thought it might be a Hot Fudge Sunday one, but he honestly couldn’t tell. The protein infusion made all of them taste rather horrible. For all he knew, it was one of the Burnt Rubber pop tarts Remus had once snuck into his pantry. To be fair, he hadn’t even noticed until he’d went to go stock his pantry and realized that there was half a box of those things. It was just another example of Remus using time travel for things he shouldn’t. They were a year 2513 delicacy.
The 2510s were an odd set of years.
He chewed on the possibly chocolate, possibly rubber flavored pastry and glanced out the window. Though it was dark, one could still see the water of the man-made lake his home sat on thanks to the floating lights that hovered above it. Each agent working for the TPI received a home and alternate identity in a time and location of their choice. (Within reason, that is. Remus’s request to live among the dinosaurs was quickly denied and new rules were put into place immediately after.) Janus had chosen the late 24th century with a moderately sized home on Lake BlueBox. He didn’t have many close neighbors, but the ones he did know thought he was an accountant who went by the name of Declan Banks.
No, he had not chosen the last name. Yes, everyone got those types of names. The Agent Management Office had a sense of humor or were just not creative. Janus only knew one employee in the AMO and he’d been avoiding him for the past three years as much as possible. Cowardly, maybe, but he knew if he gave the man too much information about his general lifestyle, he’d be dragged into the AMO to talk about his mental state and feelings, and honestly, that would make everything worse.
As soon as he finished the poptart, a glass of water popped up from the table making him jump despite the fact that he had been the one to set it to do that automatically years ago. He downed half of the water and picked up the glass to take it to his bedroom. He should probably clean himself off before bed, but he couldn’t be bothered today, and just stripped off his uniform and collapsed into bed in his underwear. The morning was going to come far too soon, he knew. Yet, his mind would not quiet. His brain kept filling out the report he trusted (well, hoped he could trust) Remus had already finished by now.
He eventually groaned and rolled over in bed. “Play something,” he requested. The screen by the side of his bed lit up.
“Randomizing the ‘Something’ video playlist,” the soft voice said from the ceiling.
A dance recital which he knew had been recorded in 2033 started playing. The images moved on the screen in front of him, but the sound drifted from all around him. He let his eyes linger over the way the dancers’ bodies moved as the sounds washed over him. The image of elegantly twisting limbs remained in his head long after his eyelids drifted shut and he finally fell asleep.
Chapter 2
The morning was just as torturous as Janus had expected it would be. He chewed through another poptart, this time bothering to actually check and see that it was a cinnamon-sugar one and drank three cups of caffeinated orange juice. Then, he waved his hand through the air and selected the 1st saved location on his device. He popped up directly behind his desk where he’d been standing the night morning before.
Someone, probably Remus, had shut his integrator down. He swiped a finger across the power button, and it flickered back on, scrolling through its morning start up routine.
The machine scanned through all of the data in the three main system it was connected to and sorted all information into things that concerned him, could concern him, and did not before then sorting the first two categories into order of importance. As it did, he set up his screen reader so he would hopefully not start the day with more of a migraine than he already had. It took about 3 seconds for everything to turn on and settle.
Sitting down in his desk, he dismissed the notification that Remus had finished and submitted the report from their mission the day before.
A mission had been scheduled for him today, and the details were in his inbox. A piece time travel technology had been accidently dropped by an archology student in the 1890s during a trip. It was an earlier model of emergency time travel given to time travels that would dump them back into the Registration Office in the year they originated. It wasn’t extremely dangerous, but could pose some problems, especially if someone who didn’t know what it was activated it.
Surveillance agents had tracked it down and found that it had been picked up by a local and sold. Though no one from that time had known what it was, they had identified that it was made out of a precious metal and it had been crafted into an expensive necklace. Janus and Remus were supposed to retrieve it today. It had been pinpointed that the most opportune time for the extraction was 1923 during a masquerade ball held by those who had bought the necklace.
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Study Fic Chapter Names
Hi everyone. I want to have chapter names for the current study fic and I have some ideas I want your opinions on for when I’m editing them. I’ll put chapters 1-3 under the cut so you can see them easier. Feel free to suggest any other names for the chapters! I’m not at all decided.
I decided to name the fic Folds in Paper (for reasons yet to be made clear).
Chapter 1:
Burnt Rubber Poptarts (Because Janus saying how he can’t even tell the difference between the burnt rubber and other flavored poptarts really brought home his current mental state.)
Chapter 2:
Paper Faces on Parade (Line from Masquerade from the Phantom of the Opera. Wouldn’t work well with the Eye of Gold chapter 3 title because they’re both from the same song)
Green Light (Green lighting the mission as well as Janus saying he had ‘all green’ which we’ll talk about in chapter 4, but basically means he’s had no incidents unlike the yellow, red, and black designations. Also alludes to the green light in Great Gatsby which symbolizes Gatsby’s love for the unattainable Daisy.)
Chapter 3:
Eye of gold; thigh of blue. True is false; who is who? (Line from Masquerade from the Phantom of the Opera.)
It’s a lopazoo. (Line from The Charleston. There isn’t really a strict definition for ‘lopazoo,’ but you can kind of get the vibe just from reading it.)
Our dance is surely a comer (Line from The Chareston except “our” replaces “that.” Comer means a person or thing likely to succeed.)
Chapter 1
The words in front of him seemed to squirm back and forth across the screen as he watched, despite the fact that he’d bought this screen to prevent that exact thing from happening. The ‘d’s and ‘p’s and ‘b’s seemed to blur together into a sludge of incomprehensible nonsense, just like the voices around him seemed to. He wasn’t quite sure how long he’d sat there staring at this report. Time itself seemed almost like the words and the people, it swirled past him in a blur of sounds and colors, but he never could quite grab ahold of it.
Something smacked him in the forehead, and he startled, looking up. “Remus,” Janus sighed. He picked up the projectile that had just been lobbed at him. “Did you steal paper from the 20th century supply again?” he asked, staring at the folded-up piece of white paper in the shape of a crane. It was one of Remus’s favorite designs. “That’s not what it’s for.”
“There’s a message inside!” Remus replied, happily.
Janus glared at him and carefully unfolded the paper. He squinted at it, and yeah, that was way worse than the screen. Maybe it was worth his money. Or maybe Remus’s handwriting was just horrendous.
He squinted at it for a few moments and then looked back up. He blinked at his surroundings. The note had said ‘Go home. Work ended three hours ago.’ and that certainly seemed accurate considering he and Remus were the only people left in the office.
“I still have to finish this report about the New Easter Island mission,” he said to Remus.
“I’ll do it,” Remus said. “You’ve been working without a break for hours, and I probably owe the agency some time since I took a coffee break to 22nd century France this afternoon.”
“You what?” Janus asked.
”They have the best coffee,” Remus said, and then grinned wolfishly, “and the best guys.”
“Stop doing that stuff,” Janus hissed. “Your lucky I haven’t reported you already.”
“You wouldn’t,” Remus said, very sure of himself. “You like me too much. Plus, without me, you’ll forget to go home and sleep every night. So, it’d be a loose-loose. Now up! It’s time for you to go home.”
Janus sighed and stood. “Fine,” he said. “I’m going, but that report better be done like you said or I will report you for your coffee excursions.”
“Sure, you will,” Remus said. “Now shoo.”
Janus spared him one more glare before standing from his desk and waving his hand through the air. The machine at his wrist buzzed softly and the display screen lit up around him. He jabbed a finger at the last of the three pre-set locations and, with a feeling like he’d just stepped into a pool of softened butter, he was home.
He groaned and fell back onto his couch immediately. “Time?” he asked.
“1:57am,” a soft voice said from his ceiling. He groaned. Considering the agency liked to keep their schedules aligned even though his house sat almost 2 millennia before the agency even existed, he’d have to be up in 4 hours to head back to work. They said it was to ‘stop them from experiencing time jet lag’ and ‘maintain their circadian rhythm,’ but with Janus it usually just ended up with him ‘not getting enough sleep’ and ‘suffering greatly.’
Sure, he had been fine with it, encouraged the policy even, when the agency was created, but that had been before he’d had to live it.
His stomach suddenly grumbled, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten since before the mission he’d been on earlier that day. He was exhausted, but he also knew trying to go to bed this hungry would result in him not being able to sleep at all. He dragged himself to his feet and into one of the barstools at the kitchen island. He didn’t want to wait for the auto cook feature to cook him something and he especially didn’t want to cook something himself, so he pressed a few buttons on the side of the counter and a protein infused, still cold pop tart popped out of the table.
He thought it might be a Hot Fudge Sunday one, but he honestly couldn’t tell. The protein infusion made all of them taste rather horrible. For all he knew, it was one of the Burnt Rubber pop tarts Remus had once snuck into his pantry. To be fair, he hadn’t even noticed until he’d went to go stock his pantry and realized that there was half a box of those things. It was just another example of Remus using time travel for things he shouldn’t. They were a year 2513 delicacy.
The 2510s were an odd set of years.
He chewed on the possibly chocolate, possibly rubber flavored pastry and glanced out the window. Though it was dark, one could still see the water of the man-made lake his home sat on thanks to the floating lights that hovered above it. Each agent working for the TPI received a home and alternate identity in a time and location of their choice. (Within reason, that is. Remus’s request to live among the dinosaurs was quickly denied and new rules were put into place immediately after.) Janus had chosen the late 24th century with a moderately sized home on Lake BlueBox. He didn’t have many close neighbors, but the ones he did know thought he was an accountant who went by the name of Declan Banks.
No, he had not chosen the last name. Yes, everyone got those types of names. The Agent Management Office had a sense of humor or were just not creative. Janus only knew one employee in the AMO and he’d been avoiding him for the past three years as much as possible. Cowardly, maybe, but he knew if he gave the man too much information about his general lifestyle, he’d be dragged into the AMO to talk about his mental state and feelings, and honestly, that would make everything worse.
As soon as he finished the poptart, a glass of water popped up from the table making him jump despite the fact that he had been the one to set it to do that automatically years ago. He downed half of the water and picked up the glass to take it to his bedroom. He should probably clean himself off before bed, but he couldn’t be bothered today, and just stripped off his uniform and collapsed into bed in his underwear. The morning was going to come far too soon, he knew. Yet, his mind would not quiet. His brain kept filling out the report he trusted (well, hoped he could trust) Remus had already finished by now.
He eventually groaned and rolled over in bed. “Play something,” he requested. The screen by the side of his bed lit up.
“Randomizing the ‘Something’ video playlist,” the soft voice said from the ceiling.
A dance recital which he knew had been recorded in 2033 started playing. The images moved on the screen in front of him, but the sound drifted from all around him. He let his eyes linger over the way the dancers’ bodies moved as the sounds washed over him. The image of elegantly twisting limbs remained in his head long after his eyelids drifted shut and he finally fell asleep.
Chapter 2
The morning was just as torturous as Janus had expected it would be. He chewed through another poptart, this time bothering to actually check and see that it was a cinnamon-sugar one and drank three cups of caffeinated orange juice. Then, he waved his hand through the air and selected the 1st saved location on his device. He popped up directly behind his desk where he’d been standing the night morning before.
Someone, probably Remus, had shut his integrator down. He swiped a finger across the power button, and it flickered back on, scrolling through its morning start up routine.
The machine scanned through all of the data in the three main system it was connected to and sorted all information into things that concerned him, could concern him, and did not before then sorting the first two categories into order of importance. As it did, he set up his screen reader so he would hopefully not start the day with more of a migraine than he already had. It took about 3 seconds for everything to turn on and settle.
Sitting down in his desk, he dismissed the notification that Remus had finished and submitted the report from their mission the day before.
A mission had been scheduled for him today, and the details were in his inbox. A piece time travel technology had been accidently dropped by an archology student in the 1890s during a trip. It was an earlier model of emergency time travel given to time travels that would dump them back into the Registration Office in the year they originated. It wasn’t extremely dangerous, but could pose some problems, especially if someone who didn’t know what it was activated it.
Surveillance agents had tracked it down and found that it had been picked up by a local and sold. Though no one from that time had known what it was, they had identified that it was made out of a precious metal and it had been crafted into an expensive necklace. Janus and Remus were supposed to retrieve it today. It had been pinpointed that the most opportune time for the extraction was 1923 during a masquerade ball held by those who had bought the necklace.
It was a fairly low stakes mission. He wasn’t set to leave for another couple of hours, so he clicked through the rest of the important notifications and then set off to meet his missions coordinator, Rhi, in her office.
Rhi and Janus got along fairly well. She was a well put together woman who took her job incredibly seriously. It was fair as her job was to organize all information and materials from every other department and make sure the agents she was assigned to got and understood all of it. A mistake from her could lead to an agent’s death or something far worse.
This, of course, made her relationship with Remus… interesting to say the least. Janus could never place whether they were nemesis, frenemies, or mortal enemies, and he doubted he would ever know.
“Okay, but it’s the 1920s America,” Remus was already in her office arguing when Janus arrived. “There were so many gangsters! I could be a gangster. I would make a fantastic gangster! Just give me a gun, a snazzy suit with a white hat, and a buttload of alcohol. I will be running Chicago with Al Capone in five minutes.”
“Al Capone didn’t become a crime boss until 1925 and you are going to 1923,” Rhi said, sounding bored, “you aren’t going to Chicago, and as I have already stated, your cover is already decided.”
“But-”
“It is nonnegotiable, Agent Clockson,” she said firmly. Remus pouted, but seemingly accepted his fate.
“May I come in?” Janus asked.
“Please do,” Rhi said. “You have been to the 1920s before, correct?” she asked Janus.
“Yes ma’am.”
She tapped the screen on her desk in response. “In the last two years?”
“About two months ago,” he responded. She tapped something else.
“Any blacks, reds, or yellows?” she asked.
“All green.”
“Great. Do you need a refresher course on basic cultural or linguistic procedures?”
“No.”
She pushed one more thing and then swiped the check-in document over to him. He glanced at the report stating he’d had no incidents of any level the last time he visited the 1920s and had opted out of the optional refresher course, and then pressed his finger against the screen to sign it with his fingerprint.
The document returned to her side of the desk automatically. “Okay,” she said swiping another document from her left over to be in front of her. She twisted her wrist to copy it and slide copies to Janus and Remus. “Here are exact details on the time, place, and event you are going to, as well as details about your cover.” Janus scrolled through his quickly. It wasn’t as detailed as some he’d had considering this was a brief in-and-out missing, but he still took care to memorize everything on the page.
As he and Remus read through their things, Rhi got to her feet and turned to the storage compartments behind her desk.
She grabbed out two packages and when they’d both signed that they’d read and understood the paperwork, she slid them across the desk to them. “These have everything you need,” she said. “Clothes, money, and an invitation to the party you’re off to attend. You are to get changed now, have a last check in with costuming to make sure everything is in order, and then report to decontamination in 23 minutes. Your set to leave in 38 minutes. Any questions?”
“How much-?” Remus started.
“None, agent,” Rhi said.
“But-”
“No alcohol,” Rhi said. “It is the prohibition era in the United States anyway.”
“Like there’s not going to be alcohol at the rich people party,” Remus said sullenly.
She pressed her lips together. “It is an in-and-out mission,” she said to both of them, and then turned to glare at Remus. “Do not get arrested.”
“I don’t know,” Remus said joyfully. “I think I still have room for a 1920s mug shot on my wall.”
“Behave,” she said, “or I’ll report you for the cat you smuggled in from the 1800s.”
“You’d never,” Remus said. “You enjoy the cute pictures of Diesel Fuel I send you every day too much, and you know it!”
“Just… don’t get arrested.” She turned to Janus. “Don’t let him get arrested.”
“I’ll do my best,” Janus promised, standing. “Now come on, Remus, we need to get changed.”
“You just want to see me naked,” Remus replied with a wink, but he did stand.
“If I see you naked one more time in my life Remus, my eyeballs will fall out of their sockets,” Janus said, waving to Rhi as he pulled Remus out of the door.
“Kinky.”
Janus’s eyeballs almost did fall out right then and there with how hard he rolled them.
They got changed quickly, Remus complaining and saying if he couldn’t dress like a gangster, he should at least be allowed to wear a flapper dress. Janus had long ago learned to ignore his ramblings. He did seem enthused about the included mask for the masquerade. It was a silver fox shaped mask with green accents that reminded Janus of the Egyptian God Anubis.
Janus’s own mask on the other hand, was only designed to take up the left half of his face. It was mostly golden with a black swirled design. Attached to the side there was a plume of golden tipped white feathers. He had to give it to the costuming department, they did have good taste.
Once they were both dressed, they were poked and prodded by one of the costumers to make sure everything was accurate, fit right, and had been put on correctly.
After that, they went to the decontamination area to have themselves and everything they were taking with them sterilized so they didn’t accidently take any pathogens to the 1920s. They also received an oral vaccination to be sure they didn’t pick up anything from the 1920s and bring it back.
Then they were ready to go. The correct time-space coordinates had already been sent to their timepieces. With a push of a button, they were off.
Chapter 3
Janus and Remus both appeared at the same moment a couple of feet apart in what looked like the inside of a garden shed. There was already a man waiting for them a few feet away. “Sup babes,” Remy said, just like he always did. The T-Agent looked their costumes up and down and whistled. “Now that,” he said, “almost makes me want to be one of you time jockeys.”
“They wouldn’t let me have a gun or a canister of moonshine,” Remus pouted.
Remy snorted. “Sorry, babes, but that makes my job a lot easier. If I’ve gotta fish you outta the 1920s criminal justice system, I’d rather it not be because you shot someone on accident ‘cause you don’t know how to use the safety.”
Remus groaned dramatically. “Everyone is lame.”
Remy just shook his head. “Meet back here when you’ve got the necklace,” he said. “Don’t make a move until after 11:05pm and before 11:17. That’s your window.”
“We know,” Janus said. “See you then.”
“Have fun at the party boys,” Remy said and then lowered his shades to look at Remus, “but not too much fun.”
“Yeah, yeah,” said Remus, already towing Janus out of the garden shed. The way had been specifically cleared for them, so they met no other people before they’d rounded the house the party was taking place and had gotten onto the driveway in front of the house.
Without missing a beat, they strolled up to the front of the house, just as a car pulled into the end of the driveway. Janus rang the doorbell, and a few moments later, a man who was clearly the butler answered the door. They handed over their invitation, and the man immediately let them in.
The party had already started when they slipped into the medium sized ballroom that had been decked out in streamers and other decorations. Janus’s nose immediately wanted to scrunch as the smell of sweat from all the dancing already going on as well as the too strong perfume meant to cover that stench wafted over him. It was by far not the worst smelling time period, but he was pretty sure some people still weren’t aware deodorant had been recently invented.
He checked his time piece which had been disguised as a fancy wristwatch for this trip. “Okay,” he said. “We have about two hours before we need to make our move. We should…”
Remus’s attention was already being dragged away by a young man who seemed to be providing guests with food. “I’m going to go ‘mingle’,” he said, winking.
“No!” Janus hissed. “Re- Richard! No!”
Yet, he was already disappearing into the horde of stinky bodies, likely to go scandalize a bunch of rich folks, and leaving Janus alone. Janus mumbled a curse under his breath that he was sure no one around him would understand even if they could make it out.
Unsure what to do with himself, he wandered over towards where the live musicians were playing jazz music, being sure to keep out of the way of the dancers. He was edging around the makeshift dancefloor, when one of said dancers must have misstepped and knocked into another one. The second man stumbled right towards Janus, arms pinwheeling. Janus reached out on instinct to catch the man as he fell.
There was a moment where the two of them just stared at each other, surprise evident on the other man’s face. He was wearing a mask that just covered the area around his eyes and the top of his nose, revealing a smattering of freckles across his cheeks that Janus imagined extended to his nose.
The mask was a light blue velvet with a flower stuck on the side near his right ear, and a trail of curled golden ribbon bobbed down around his chin. The party continued on around them, a blur of movement and sound.
“Are you alright?” Janus asked.
The man blinked up at him and then tilted his head slightly to the side as though confused, before a smile slowly grew on his face. “Oh, I’m fine Dove.”
“Dove?” Janus asked.
He giggled. “You have dove feathers on your mask,” he explained, reaching up a hand to touch one. His finger brushed the tip of Janus’s ear, “and I don’t know what else I am supposed to call you.”
“My name is Lee,” he automatically lied.
“Is it?” he asked, sounding amused. “Doesn’t seem to fit you well. I like Dove better.”
“Oh?” asked Janus. “And what’s your name so I can not call you that?”
The man chuckled. “Call me Pat.”
“Hello Pat,” Janus said.
“I thought you didn’t want to call me by my name.”
“I changed my mind.”
“Hmmm,” Pat said, finger tracing idly across Janus’s forearm which was when Janus realized with a start that he was still holding the man in his arms. He quickly went to release him, which Pat allowed with clear amusement.
Yet, instead of completely stepping away, Pat grabbed Janus’s arm. “What are you doing all the way over here by the way?” he asked. “Don’t you want to dance.”
“Oh,” Janus hesitated. “I don’t really dance.” Or at least not in the way the people around him were. He’d had basic training for this style, but it had been a while and he was a bit rusty.
“Everyone dances Dove,” Pat claimed. “At least if they know the steps and have the right partner.”
“But I don’t know the steps,” Janus said with an eyebrow raise.
He hummed. “Well, I know the dance pretty well by this point,” Pat said. “Why don’t I teach you how it goes.”
He was agreeing with the soft beseeching tone before he even realized it. Pat pulled him into the middle of the throng of people. He seemed to think, bopping his head to the music playing for a moment, before looking back at Janus. “Heard of James Johnson?”
Janus inclined his head.
“Well, have you heard his new song? Because there’s a dance that goes with it.”
He took a few steps away from Janus and started to dance. Despite his claim to know the steps, he wasn’t particularly good, but he made up for any loss of rhythm with pure enthusiasm.
Janus found himself smiling at the man, and after a few moments, joined in with the dance. Despite his lack of practice, he ended up having a better natural rhythm than Pat. Pat didn’t seem to mind that he was being outperformed, however. On the contrary, he giggled at himself the couple of times he stumbled.
When he fell into Janus’s arms for the second time that night, Janus decided he’d probably had enough dancing for the moment and pulled him off to the side to get something to drink and cool down a bit.
He watched the man take a snack and some punch from one of servers and thank him happily before turning back to Janus. Pat was easily able to keep Janus’s attention as they chatted. He was bubbly and soft, and Janus found himself enchanted as they talked.
He was explaining the steps of a different dance, a couples one. “Knowing how to perform the tango will entrance any girl you want,” Pat said, something mischievous sparkling in his eyes. “Assuming you’re that type of fella.”
“As opposed to what?” Janus asked.
Pat leaned in a bit closer. Not too much, but enough that he was definitely in Janus’s space. “A different type of fella,” he said simply, before smiling and leaning back.
Janus let out a shaky exhale and took a sip of punch. He glanced over at Pat. “Tell me about yourself, Pat,” he said.
Pat hummed in contemplation. “Well, I went to France recently.”
“You did?”
“Oui, c'était amusant, mais j'ai eu des ennuis”
“What kind of trouble?” Janus asked curiously.
“Oh, the kind with a pretty boy and crepes that were way too sweet. Anyway,” he continued. “Other than that, I mostly help out my friend. He’s an inventor.”
“And how do you help him.”
He shrugged, “Running errands mostly, and making sure he gets enough sleep, because otherwise he gets distracted and forgets. And you?”
“I’m a banker,” he said, remembering his cover, but felt compelled to add, “but I like to travel as well.”
“You do look the type?”
“And how is that?”
Pat shrugged. “I can always tell a wandering spirt from the masses, and you are easy to spot.” Pat looked at him then with a secret smile on his face, and Janus felt suddenly known, like the man in front of him had known him for years even though they’d only just met. Looking at him then, he wanted suddenly for that to be fact and not a flight of fancy.
He was brought firmly back to reality in the next moment. “Lee,” a pointed and familiar voice said. Janus’s head snapped up to see Remus, staring at him. He tapped his wrist. Janus glanced at his own wrist: 10:58pm. He just barely managed not to curse.
“I,” he said looking up at Pat. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”
“That’s okay,” Pat said easily. “It is getting rather late.”
“Yes,” Janus agreed. “Well… goodbye.”
Pat, titled his head, a half smile on his face. “I’ll be seeing you around.”
Janus nodded, and turned away from him towards Remus. He didn’t look back as they excited the ballroom. They snuck into a small side closet for coats that wasn’t being used as it was summer.
“So,” Remus said when the door closed behind them.
“Don’t,” warned Janus.
“I’m not one to judge,” Remus said.
“Shut up.” He glanced at his watch. It was 11:02. “We’ll go in 5.”
“I have to give it to you. He was very cute.”
“We’re not talking about it.”
Remus just laughed joyfully, and Janus did his best to halt the blood rushing to his cheeks.
At 11:07, well into their window, they slipped back out of the closet, and towards the stairs as the party raged on.
Despite how Remus usually never shut up, he was able to be quiet when it counted. They snuck to the master bedroom of the home’s owners in silence. The door was already wide open by the time they got there, and Janus didn’t think anything of it. At least, he didn’t until they entered the bedroom, and there was someone already there.
He turned from the dresser he’d been standing in front of to face them, sending Janus the same smile he had down in the ballroom. Janus and Remus both froze. “Sorry, sweetie,” Pat said. “Were you here for this too?” he held up the necklace they’d been sent for. He closed his fist around the charm made out of time travel tech.
“What?” Janus said.
Pat giggled and winked. “Unfortunately, I need it a bit more than you at the moment. So, I’m gonna have to go.” Janus stepped forward, not really sure what he was intending to do, but Pat just smiled. “See you some other time, my Turtle Dove.” With a snap of his fingers and loud crack, he disappeared. The mask he’d been wearing fluttered to the ground.
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