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riktorart · 3 years

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“Welcome for the third, and (hopefully) final time to the auditorium, beloved students of Night Raven College! Yes, as many of you expect, this assembly is in regards to our ice cream fundraiser, which has yet to take off! However, now that I’ve recovered from my horrific injuries from last month’s assembly, I say it’s time for us to start anew, and introduce our new line of flavors!

… Why are you all groaning??? Truly you’ve not grown tired of ice cream already, have you?! … No, no, it can’t be… You all just must be far too excited to carry on! Very well! I shall introduce to you the newest flavors, and then you’ll be off! Making me… Err, the school, enough Madol to fix the chandelier that was broken (again) last week!

… Hm? Why aren’t we using the past flavors? … Well… You see there was a… Ah, would you look at the time! If we don’t start now, we’ll never finish! Vargas! Bring up the first cooler!!! NOW!!!

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Lemon Zestvolt- Don’t let his frown fool you, this sweet cream is actually quite sweet, with it’s mellow mix of lemon and lime that’ll make you smile! (... Though, it does take quite a while to actually get past the bitter aftertaste… And it’s surprisingly loud… And… It feels like it’s constantly judging my every move according to a standard that’s quite frankly unrealistic… And... You know what? We’re just going to move on for the sake of my self-confidence!)

Blue Berrygrotto- Despite it’s name, this treat’s name is quite deceiving! It’s not just blueberry, but in fact, a mix of eight different types of berries, all baked into a freshly warm pie and served a la Mode with a trustworthy smile~! (… Hm? What do you mean that sounds a bit much…? Ehrm, no matter!)

Even if it’s a bit… Wet, you won’t mind at all once you enjoy it’s wonderfully sophisticated taste! Ah and would you look at that! On sale for only 300 Madol! What a steal~! Make sure you stop by the cafeteria to buy a Blue Berrygrotto today!

Lion-Colored Kingsicle… Stick- … Well! There was a batch of ice cream in this cooler… And now it’s gone. We have no idea where it we- (... Oh, hold on, did we find them?) … Well! Turns out that as we speak, the original ice cream has been found tucked into obscure corners of the college where no person in their right mind would even think to look, or… On beds… (It seems the only reason they’ve been found is because they’ve begun to melt…)

… Well! We still have popsicle sticks available, so why not treat yourself with some? I’m sure at least one of you could find something to do with so many popsicle sticks!

(Warning: If you encounter this treat on your daily commute, simply back away slowly, and contact a trusted member of Night Raven College Staff to dispose of this treat. Do NOT engage. (Night Raven College is not liable for any injuries/death that may result in confrontation of this product.))

Coco’lover!- Ah, did you think this treat was simply coconut! Well, my delightful students, you are wrong! This ice cream is a delicate balance of coconut, and pistachios, a surprisingly friendly combo! … Well, that is as long as you like coconut… And pistachios… (On second thought, this combo wasn’t the best idea now, is it?)

… Ahem! I hear it pairs quite well with baked delights, so do keep that in mind!

Mortho Energy Drink… Sicle- Tell me children, would you like to stunt your growth by drinking unhealthy shots of pure caffeine? Well, I’m here to inform you that is a foolish idea! Why drink them, when you can eat them instead with an ice cream sponsored by Mortho™ Energy Drinks! Whether it’s for a late-night study session, or for an extra kick during finals, Good ol’ Mortho here will help to keep your poor body conscious against its will!

(... Also, please buy these as soon as possible. He’s beginning to miss one of our discontinued flavors, and will melt… (Night Raven College is not liable for injuries/death that may result from consumption of this product. If Mortho™ Energy Drink-Sickle commences Self-Destruction mode, toss it as far as possible, and duck for cover. To avoid such an occurrence from happening, do NOT insult any person with fire-like hair within the vicinity. It WILL hear you, and it WILL be upset.))

Catolate Diamikan- Do you need to take a… (Wait, what was that one site called…? Ah, yes!) MagiCam-worthy photo of yourself and friends? Well, fret no longer students, as this is the treat for you! A picture of you and Catolate’s smile is sure to be a hit! And if it’s not… Well, he’s flavored like white chocolate and oranges, so either way, you’re a winner!

(... Speaking of photos… Trien, why did you not like my “selfie” that I took earlier this afternoon? … Ah, you’re right! This isn’t the time for such trivialities! I shall simply discuss it with you later then!)

Mir-Lot- A treat based on the likeness of our beloved Magical Mirror itself! Doesn’t it look absolutely stunning, in all it’s glory? Ah, even this old bird can’t help but marvel at it’s timeless beauty… This treat is a nice, deep merlot-flavor, (non-alcoholic, of course!) that I’m sure more mature audiences will enjoy…

And even if you don’t… Well, you don’t want to hurt our beloved mirror’s feelings now, do you? You should buy one anyway, just so it knows for sure it’s appreciated~!

Berry Bad Cat- This… “Cute,” little feline’s filled with many surprises, and though most of them are a hassle… This surprise is actually quite pleasant! A bold blackberry taste, sprinkled with small popping candies that seem to light a spark along your taste buds… Why, it’s surprisingly easy to grow attached to it!

(… Wait, what do you mean my tongue has turned black?! Oh heavens, get me a mirror!!! And water!!!)

Ramshackle Special- Um… Well… This ice cream had no specific flavor. It was an amalgamation of every single flavor crafted so we could save funds and resources, and it was quite awful the majority of the time, so we’d lowered the price for 100 Madol, but… Before we even made the official announcement, someone snuck into my office and took every single one… Of course, they were at least kind enough to leave the funds for it all, but…

Oh, who cares about manners?! WHICH ONE OF YOU RELEASED FIREFLIES INTO MY OFFICE?! … Well, if no one will confess to the crime, then everyone will be punished for the crime! … Later, of course!

Now, like before, we have three special options that are just a tad bit above the rest in terms of flavor and appearances, so despite how kindhearted and generous I am… We will have to charge just a bit extra for these three. Surely you all understand~! These next treats are also quite limited, so if you desire to delight in one, make sure you buy them fast! Once they’re gone, they’re gone!!!

(Well… Not completely, but if people are under the illusion that there is no second chance, then they’re be far more likely to make impulsive purchases! Oh ho ho~ Dire, you clever, dapper man, you~ … Wait, did I say that out loud?)

… Anyway! Our first premium snack!

Rhymes Rosetarts- A delightful treat of sweet cherry tarts with cream and… Oh, is that actually a hint of roses I caught?! How interesting! I’d love nothing more than to dig in, yet… For some reason, I feel that even if my manners slip just a tad, that I’d be chastised… Ah, I suppose I will simply have to consume the treat carefully, lest my suspicions are confirmed true… Which they’re not!

(Night Raven College is not responsible for injuries/death resulting from consumption of this product. Make sure to review the rulebook supplied with each purchase before unwrapping this treat. Once it is free from it’s wrapper, it will always have it’s eyes on you…)

Varbucks™ Iced Protein Coffee- Are you fan of coffee? Or perhaps something sweet, but healthy? Well this treat i-”

“OI, DIRE! WHY AM I THE ONLY STAFF WHO’S ICE CREAM WAS AWFUL?!”

“A-ah! Professor Crewel! Well, err… I’ll… Get back to you on that, yes! So why don’t you have an ice cream and calm d-OWN NO, NO, NO!!! GET OFF THE STAGE I’M SORRY CREWEL PLEASE DON’T H-YAHHH!!!”

Apple Farmier- “... Well, I suppose since the Headmaster was forced to step away for “business,” I should wrap up this assembly. The final dessert available for purchase during our school fundraiser will be the... “Apple Farmier?” (... Crowley seems to have a knack for finding such strange names…)

The Apple Farmier is described to have an almost overly-sweet aroma of ripened apples, yet when bitten into, administers a horrific shock from it’s incredibly sour taste. Those who have tried it described an almost numbing sensation on their tongue, and one such person even lost consciousness as a result of it.”

“Meow.”

“(Hm? Quite right Lucious, thank you for the reminder.) If you purchase this treat, do be aware that our esteemed institution does not hold any accountability for any harm that comes upon you. Do consume the product at your own risk… As for the lot of you who’ve decided to fall asleep during the assembly, I shall see you in detention. In case you’re wondering, yes, I see you, and I will remember if you decide to “ditch.”

Now, you are dismissed. Vargas, please make sure the students return to class while I check upon the Headmaster’s condition… (And hopefully this will be the last of these tedious assemblies…)”

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Bonus

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Lionel Kingsbutter- “Have you ever sat down and thought, “Hm, there seems to be something missing in my life… Something… Hard, surprisingly sweet… And yet, something with a mean bite to match it’s bark?” Well, this treat has no bark, but it does have quite a bite! Smooth, delightful cookie butter than just melts upon your tongue, and plentiful chunks of crispy cookies! They’re a bit… Spicy… But strangely... Delicious! (... Water… I need water...! … Thank you, Trien.)

And if that’s not enough, why, just look at it’s adorable little ears, and i-YEOWCH!!! DID IT JUST BITE ME?! IT’S FROZEN CREAM, HOW DID IT DO THAT?! BAD KITTY, BAD KITTY! WHERE’S THE TRASH C-AAAAH IT’S LATCHED ONTO MY CLAWS!!! SOMEBODY, ANYBODY GET IT OFF!!! GYAAAAAAAH!!!”

#Twisted Wonderland #Leona Kingscholar #Sebek Zigvolt #Azul Ashengrotto #Trey Clover #Ortho Shroud #Cater Diamond #Grim Twisted Wonderland #Riddle Rosehearts #Ashton Vargas #Epel Felmier #Fan Art #Digital Art #Riktor's Art

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sophiamcdougall · 4 years

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EXPLAINING SANREMO

(PART 1) Last week I was swept away, helpless, by the avalanche that is the Sanremo Song Festival and I am still recovering. For your safety, I’ve tried to keep the insanity contained on my Italian side blog. But I want to try to offer you a rough summary of what I’ve learned. Sanremo inspired the Eurovision Song Contest. Over five nights, 24 acts, each with a brand new song, compete at the Ariston theatre in Sanremo for a tacky little golden lion, and the glory of being the year’s Song for Italy. 2020 marked the 70th Sanremo, so depending on who you ask, it’s a venerable national treasure or it’s stale and embarrassing (Many Italians are sick of it. Or say they are, but see below.) It is also an EPIC STRUGGLE between THE FORCES OF GOOD AND EVIL FOR THE SOUL OF HUMANITY Let’s meet some of the protagonists:

AKA: host Amadeus, entertainer and comedian Rosario Fiorello, il Bel Paese, and competitor Achille Lauro.

Amadeus got things off to a bad start before the show even began by praising his various female co-hosts - all seasoned TV professionals - for their beauty and their ability to stay “a step behind a man.” Outrage ensues, Amadeus claims he did not mean it like that, but keep this in mind for later. Also competing are Morgan (below, left) and Bugo (below, right.), who are performing a duet.

Going in, the one thing I know about Morgan is that on more than one occasion, he trashtalked my beloved and blameless Fabrizio Moro. So I hate him and want him to suffer. And apparently he has quite the reputation for throwing tantrums, picking on fellow-artists and sabotaging events he’s part of. But hey. He’s supposedly talented and Bugo clearly thinks he deserves another chance. And we’re off!

Irene Grandi kicks things off with “Finalmente Io” (“Finally Me”). But I’m starting with her not so much because she’s the first to sing as because I don’t think the song’s got enough attention -- either for the fact that it bangs or for what it represents in the drama that’s about to unfold.

Finalmente Io is what, in the business, we call foreshadowing.

There’s a magical thing that happens to women with when they turn 40. The develop Not-Giving-A-Fuck superpowers. The song is basically about that. It’s about freedom, and self-acceptance, and being 100% done with male bullshit. (It's also a bit of an ADHD anthem but let’s leave that aside for now.) “I’ve lost all my patience, and all my fragility,” she sings.

And, “If you want sex, let’s do it now. Heeeeeeere.”

Irene is the portent everyone misses, a harbinger of what is to come.

Think of her as John the Baptist. Onwards. So the first thing one discovers about the Sanremo Festival is that just because we have to get through 24 “big” acts AND 6 (?) new/junior artists, and they all have to perform multiple times, that doesn’t mean there’s any RUSH. Guest singers wander on and perform a song or ten. There’s comedy. We can stop everything to talk about football. A lady comes on and talks for a million years about how her granny taught her that True Beauty is Found Within. There are also speeches about important subjects like violence against women. In fact, we are going to talk about that a lot, but also a bunch of competent and experienced female TV personalities are stuck taking turns at playing Amadeus’s Glamorous Assistant of the evening and he can’t shut up about how beautiful they all are while they cringe and lean subtly away from him. So it’s ... slow, and awkward, but within its own cheesy terms, things are normal. Too normal. Enter Achille Lauro.

Softly, almost whispering, he begins to sing a song called “Me ne frego” (”I don’t care” - but with an edge of “fuck you”). This is both an everyday Italian expression and a fascist motto. Well, it was till now.

A nation is convulsed. Right-wing Italian boomers are screaming because YOU! CAN’T! DO! THAT! AT! SANREMO! THERE! ARE! CHILDREN! WATCHING! Italian Tumblr, which like the rest of Tumblr is feral, thirsty and gay, is screaming for different reasons entirely.

Achille, you scandalous creature, what have you done? What have you got to say for yourself?

Something strange and magical has released and it cannot be contained. On with the songs. Good songs, bad songs, blah songs. I like “Tikibombom” by Levante - a love letter to weirdos and rebels, “Rosso di Rabbia” (Rage Red) by Anastasio about being, well, angry but scared you can’t do anything useful with it, and “Eden” by Rancore, about... the nature of sin?? touching on everything from September 11 to the mafia to Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. However, this contest is being judged (mostly - it’s complicated) by an industry jury of FOOLS, COWARDS, and TRAITORS who KNOW NOT WHAT THEY DO, so virtually all of the above artists are so far languishing towards the bottom of the provisional rankings. Achille ends up in 17th place and Rancore at 22.

Truly, the light hath shone in the darkness and the darkness knoweth it not.

LOOK WHAT YOU’VE DONE TO RANCORE.

Rapper down, repeat RAPPER DOWN. SEND HELP.

However, for people who went in implacably biased against Morgan, it’s not all bad news. "Sincero” (Sincere) by Morgan and Bugo is in last place. Whether this is anything to do with the song or because Morgan is a nightmare of a person who has systematically alienated everyone in the Italian music industry except the trusting Bugo ... we can but ponder. Sanremo grinds on. Days blur into each other and I’m not even going to try to cover events in exact order. Sanremo knows no order. Sanremo is like the universe, linear time is a construct that doesn’t really exist, and chaos happens very, very slowly. But meanwhile, somewhere on the astral plane:

At least that is what I deduce must have happened.

The competitors and guests look deep within themselves. Do they have what it takes? Are they ready to answer the call?

Let’s see! It’s Covers Night! Which is also Duets Night!

That’s Elettra Lamborghini (yes, that Lamborghini) and Myss Keta.

Are they in tune? No. Does it matter? ALSO NO.

Meanwhile ... something strange is brewing between Amadeus and Fiorello...

But wait, PLOT TWIST.

Enter Roberto Benigni.

The beloved actor and director is the latest avatar of the Dionysian frenzy that has chosen Sanremo 2020 for the place of its birth. He is the One who will unite the electric queer mayhem and the impossible grinding tedium of Sanremo. In him, the two strains will fuse and become unstoppable. He is going to talk about sex for twenty-six minutes

He reads from the Song of Songs, which ... I knew it was sexy, and all, but is it really like that? Do you ever think about NAKED BODIES? Roberto does. Do you believe in PHYSICAL LOVE? Roberto wishes you would. Anyway, just think of all the sex we could all be having, literally right now, right heeeeere, whether we are “a woman, and her man. Or a man and his man. Or a woman, and her woman!” He is awful. He is magnificent. He is excruciating. He is spellbinding. We are hanging on his every word and we are considering chewing our own arms off to escape. He proposes an orgy in the orchestra pit.

Hand on heart, all of that happened. Italian Tumblr, bear witness.

And what of Achille Lauro? He unleashed this madness upon us all, is he just going to sit back and let everyone else do all the work? Of course not. Achille Lauro came to bring not peace, but a sword, to the world of toxic masculinity and gender in general and his work is not yet done.

”I too was once a little girl,” Achille sings.

Dressed as Bowie-as-Ziggy, Achille duets with Annalisa on “Gli Uomini Non Cambiano” - “Men Don’t Change”. It’s a heartbreaking song by Mia Martini from 1992 about male abuse of women, and not a single word, or a single pronoun has been changed.

However, although he’s the one in the competition, and the one dressed to dazzle, he leaves Annalisa the spotlight. It’s like she’s the tortured protagonist of the song and he’s a voice in her head, a sympathetic spirit who can’t swoop in to rescue her but can quietly affirm that she deserves better than the the hellish treatment she’s singing about. in fact, he pointedly stays a step behind her at all times. And she’s majestic.

Of course, he’s not fucking DONE

He’s still got to sing “Me Ne Frego” again. Can he top the cape-drop? You be the judge.

So Italian Tumblr, is now writhing on the carpet, making a sound only bats can hear, and shitposting itself into delirium, but has it all been ENOUGH?

NO.

Poor Rancore has died again. Toxic masculinity still exists. Amadeus is still pretty gross. Everyone is going to have to GAY HARDER. CAN THEY DO IT? This post is, like Sanremo itself, getting insanely long, so ... STAY TUNED FOR PART TWO, in which Fiorello’s true nature as a chaos being is revealed, Amadeus faces his Calvary, and the gun on the stage goes off. ----- UPDATE: Part 2 is here

#Sanremo #Sanremo 2020 #Explaining Sanremo #Achille Lauro #Explaining Sanremo Part 1

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reidluver · 7 years

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Just Business (2/3)

Fandom: Guardians of the Galaxy

Summary: Convincing a Ravager to deal in kids was supposed to be impossible. Luckily for him, Ego was skilled at convincing lesser beings to do what he wanted. Once he found the Ravager Captain’s weakness, the rest was all too easy.

A/n: Because I highly doubt Yondu would just break the Ravager code for some extra units. Ego is a manipulative bastard, and poor Yondu didn’t stand a chance.

Chapter 1: Target Found

Chapter 2: Setting the Bait

Three months later

Trading post on Tirali's Fourth Moon

Ego chewed the ch'lasp meat slowly, cataloging the texture and spices. To pass time back on his planet, Ego would challenge himself to recreate objects or food he encountered on his travels. While he didn't need to eat outside his mortal form, Mantis and his children did. He’d found that exposing them to new foods improved their compliance. Plus, if he were being honest with himself, Ego enjoyed the occasional indulgence in food.

Even now, centuries later, maintaining a physical form hadn't lost its novelty. He supposed it partly had to do with the fact that he'd spent far more time as a disembodied existence and then a planet, but it was more because there were so many physical forms he could assume. For all their numerous faults, the vast species across the galaxy were fascinating in their own right.

Ego finished off his meal and washed it down with some Krylorian brandy. Everyone would all be destroyed in the Expansion of course, but they kept his interest for the time being. Observing the lesser species of the galaxy, manipulating his form to theirs, and perfecting his technique kept the madness at bay.

If he didn't keep his mind occupied then it—

The emptied cup erupted in a burst of Light. There was a curse and clattering behind him, but Ego paid it no heed. Instead he took a steadying breath. He would find the child he needed eventually. He had to. And he wasn't sure how or why, but Ego knew this Yondu Udonta would play a key role in that.

A server appeared at his side and muttered apologies that Ego ignored. When they left, Ego glanced at his sleeve and noted there were a few drops of brandy on it. Ego wiped them away with the napkin on his lap. Today his appearance required sophistication and wealth. To play the part, he chose a Xandarian form. They weren't a flashy race and lent a sense of ambiguity to Ego's purposes. It allowed him to be seen but not remembered by any passerby.

He focused his gaze to the marketplace street. The ship port was down the alley to his right. Yondu was due any moment now, after meeting with a merchant he had frequent dealings with. Ego had persuaded the merchant to request Yondu for her next shipment. Upon delivery, the merchant would then direct Yondu to Ego's table to discuss another offer. The merchant was paid to stress the importance of meeting with Ego.

A complicated plan to arrange a simple meeting, but this arrangement was not to be taken lightly. Ego had to convince Yondu. It was the only viable option. While he could use Mantis to make Yondu more compliant, Ego didn't know how long-lasting the girl's effects would be. What if it wore off and Yondu abandoned the job?

Using force was also out of the question. Threatening a Ravager was a fool's decision. Not that Ego couldn't destroy them if he wanted to, but what good would killing Yondu do for the Expansion?

No, what he needed to do was earn Yondu's trust, or at least respect. Receiving a recommendation by an old business partner was a strong first step. Then Ego would prove he had money to spare for the job. After that, it was time to exploit the man's weakness.

Some drunken mortals passed, whooping and singing off-key. Ego grimaced at the sound. It made him long for Meredith's angelic voice. For such a primitive planet, Terra was home to the most remarkable mortal Ego ever had the pleasure of meeting. It was fascinating how her beauty and charm surpassed the centuries of royalty and exotic species Ego had met before. Not long ago, he paid a second visit to Terra; to Meredith. He wished to observe how his progeny was progressing and left in high spirits.

The offspring Meredith produced was something Ego could be proud of. The infant was healthy and a fine specimen for its species. Of all the children he sired, Ego held the strongest hope that Peter would be the one to carry the Celestial gene. How fitting would it be for the child of his beloved River Lily to provide the energy needed to end his loneliness?

Which is why it was so imperative that Yondu accept his offer. Ego couldn't afford any foul-ups with Meredith's child. There were still a few years left until Peter reached the age where his abilities could be ascertained. Yondu required a few trial runs before then.

A bark of laughter carried over the marketplace din. It was a voice Ego recognized from the criminal holo-vids he took from the Nova Corps. It only took Ego a moment to locate the source.

Yondu Udonta. An unruly and unpleasant mortal for sure, but the perfect tool for Ego's purposes.

It would take the man a few minutes to reach the café, so Ego took the time to observe him. It had been some time since Ego had last seen a Centaurian. When he first sired a child of the species, decades upon decades ago, the planet's inhabitants had just perfected interplanetary travel. The planet housed a species whose culture was a fascinating blend of primitive and civilized, but it was their physiological connection with the yaka metal that held Ego's interest.

He had hoped a Centaurian's predisposition to manipulate energy would increase the odds of his offspring controlling the Light. Ego mated with numerous members of the species over time (the highest rate of any so far) but none of the children survived. Their survival was above average, but not high enough.

This only added to the list of reasons why he needed Yondu. Exposing his offspring to Yondu's abilities could awaken their minds to what Ego's Celestial genes were capable of. Perhaps some might define that as "grasping at straws" (to coin a Terran phrase) but Ego was beyond the point of caring. The Expansion was all that mattered, and Ego was willing to do whatever it took to make that happen.

There was a small figure trailing after Yondu, and Ego smiled. It was the Kree slave Yondu liberated some two years ago. Rather than leave the child to fend for itself, Yondu took it aboard as a Ravager at only eleven years Standard.

An usual move for a Ravager for sure, but given Yondu’s history it didn’t raise questions. The Centuarian himself had been freed from the Kree and subsequently made a Ravager. Why wouldn’t he do the same for another?

Fortunately for Ego, that decision increased Yondu's usefulness even further. Despite being a new captain, his crew was already used to a child on board. Ego knew they wouldn’t ask too many questions. Especially not when they learned how much Ego would pay for their services.

Yondu and the child arrived at the café’s entrance. A waiter spoke to them for a moment, then pointed in Ego’s direction. Ego waved and grinned broadly when Yondu’s gaze fell upon him. This was it.

A quiver of excitement coursed through Ego. In the past, all Ego had to do was flash units at his hires and they wouldn't bat an eye. Acquiring Yondu would prove a far more delicate operation. Ego had to both win Yondu over with sincerity while threatening him in the same breath. All without him realizing it.

It was puzzling, but mortals placed great importance on body language, subtle gestures, and expressions. For this to work, Ego had to control himself perfectly.

Yondu stopped at Ego’s table, thumbs hooked into his belt. “Salzon said you had a job,” he said. His voice carried the rasp often found in species whose vocal chords weren’t meant to speak in Standard. When Ego visited Centauri-IV, he only spoke in the chirps and whistles that made up the Centaurian language.

“Yes. My name's Ego, Mr. Udonta. Pleasure to meet you.” He gestured to the other seats. “Please sit down.” Ego waved a waiter over and had Yondu order some drinks.

Yondu gestured to the child once the waiter left. “Teachin’ the boy how to negotiate with a client. Hope ya don’t mind.”

“Oh, not at all!” Ego didn’t even have to lie. He beamed at the child. “What’s your name, young man?” he asked, careful to appear warm and friendly. He mimicked the look doting fathers had on children they interacted with that were not their own.

The child (Xandarian by the looks of it) puffed its chest proudly. “Kraglin.” Ego kept up the smile instead of turning his nose like he wished he could. The child was a gangly, scrawny thing that didn’t belong in a group of Ravagers. Why Yondu saw fit to keep it was a mystery to Ego. But Ego needed to play the part of a loving father, so he pretended to care.

He turned his attention back to Yondu. “When Salzon told me how pleased she’s been with your service, I knew you were just the person to hire.”

“Did she now?” Yondu leaned back in the chair with just enough slouch to appear disinterested but respectful at the same time. Ego wondered if this was some sort of business strategy. Did Yondu wish to drive Ego to desperation to negotiate a better deal? A tactic that worked on lesser beings no doubt, which Ego was anything but. The fact that Yondu agreed to meet him in person was telling enough. This negotiation would be settled on Ego's terms, not Yondu's.

Ego fought the urge to chuckle. How satisfying this venture would be! “You’re just the man I’m looking for,” he said instead.

Yondu scratched at his chin. “So what kinda cargo are ya lookin’ to transport?” The waiter returned with their drinks and Yondu drank some of his eagerly.

“The job is more along the lines of ferrying," Ego said, "and a promise for future business. You see, I have a child who’s currently living on Kulfalra.” He pulled out a holopad with a picture of her and placed it on the table. “I just received word that her mother passed away and I need you to—”

"Look.” Yondu set his drink down and raised a hand. “Y'must be new to the business, but Ravagers don' deal with kids."

"But I—what about him?" Ego gestured to the child beside him, taking care to raise the pitch of his voice and turn his expression into a pleading one.

Yondu snorted. "Can'tchu see?" He pointed to the emblem on the boy's jacket. "Kraglin's a Ravager. It ain't the same."

Ego leaned forward with a crestfallen expression. "You don't understand, I need you to bring me my daughter!" He glanced from side to side as if expecting someone to listen in on the conversation. "She’s not safe on her own," he whispered. "If anyone discovers what she is, they'll take her."

"Mmhmm." Yondu picked at some dirt underneath his fingernail. A futile effort, in Ego's opinion. Ravagers weren’t known for their hygiene.

Ego lowered his voice. "I'm a Celestial."

The boy beside him furrowed his brow but Yondu barked out a laugh. "That's a mighty grand claim there.” His lips curled back to show—Celestials above!—jagged silver teeth. These Ravagers were savages. “Care t'prove it?"

Ego pretended to contemplate the request. He had assumed Yondu would ask for proof, and he’d already decided on the perfect solution. "Um, how about this?" Ego closed his eyes and focused inward. He thought of his form on the molecular level and adjusted the DNA accordingly.

It felt like squeezing his body through a slit in foam. When his new form settled, he was pleased to hear both Yondu and the child gasp.

Ego opened his now red eyes and beamed amicably at Yondu. The captain was gaping at Ego as if he were a ghost, which is exactly what Ego wanted.

He was no longer a Xandarian, but a flesh and blood Centaurian. Yondu's eyes flickered to Ego's natural fin with a broken longing, and Ego lowered his gaze.

"Oh, I didn't mean—I'm so sorry." Ego brushed back the fin and it rippled to a small stub. He looked at Yondu again, his face morphed into a perfect chagrined expression. "I only meant to prove my abilities."

Yondu swallowed thickly and composed himself. "An impressive trick t'be sure,” he said, “but that don't prove yer a Celestial. Any shapeshifter could do that."

Ego shook his head. "Shapeshifters only mimic form. I've changed on the molecular level."

"Well ain't that convenient, seeing as how we don't got any fancy tech to check your claim."

Ego lifted an eyebrow and whistled. There was a humming in his skull and the yaka arrow in Yondu's holster twitched. Yondu’s chair screeched as he staggered to his feet. He gaped at Ego in thinly veiled horror. The child stood as well, his hand at his side as if reaching for a weapon.

How interesting.

Ego fought back the smirk that was itching on his lips and instead appeared apologetic. "You know as well as I do that a shapeshifter can't do that," he said softly. The yaka arrow was soul-bound to Yondu, but when not directly in his control, Ego could nudge it.

A few moments passed before Yondu sighed and sat back down as if nothing had happened. He waved at the child to follow suit. As they settled in, Ego graciously changed back into a Xandarian.

“Guess you ain’t lyin’ then,” Yondu said, his voice hoarse. He folded his arms as if to continue an aloof front.

“So you see why my daughter, and any future children of mine, are in danger?” Ego blinked as he forced his eyes to water. “The universe is full of horror stories where children are taken for their abilities and tortured into monsters.” Yondu’s eye twitched at Ego’s careful wording, but the child had less control. His entire body flinched.

“Why don’t you go an’ fetch the kids yerself?” Yondu said with a drawl. He lowered his folded arms and made to rest the palms at his knees, but Ego noted how his hand brushed against the child’s. And more importantly, how the brief interaction calmed the boy. “Aren’t Celestials all mighty an’ powerful?”

“It’s more complicated than that, I’m afraid,” Ego said. Now came the difficult part. He never had to reveal his lineage to the other hires, but in this instance Ego needed to make a point. Yondu had to understand that Ego was not a force to be trifled with. Unfortunately, revealing this part of himself offered the chance for more scrutiny. “This form you see before you is merely a projection. I have to return to my planet regularly to gather my strength or—”

“But you traveled to the planets,” the child said, his eyes sharp and narrowed. “You went there t’meet the mothers so why don’t you jus’ go back and get ‘em?” Ego blinked at the child despite himself. While he had anticipated the question, he wouldn’t have imagined the boy to have asked it. Or to have the gall to interrupt him with it.

If this Xandarian managed to undo months of planning . . .

Yondu’s grin flashed silver. “Look a’that! I knew ya had a good head on yer shoulders, boy!” Ego took note of the tint of blue that appeared on the boy’s cheeks.

“As I was just about to explain,” Ego said, “I need to return to my planet—my true form—to recharge. When I travel I have only enough energy to power my ship, maintain a mortal form, and interact with a planet’s inhabitants for a few days. If my child is in danger I won’t be able to protect them.” It was only partially true, but it was all Yondu needed to know.

A few moments of silence passed as Yondu stared at him critically. “Y’mean to say . . . you’re an actual planet?” he asked.

Ego chuckled. “I assume you’ve been to Knowhere, yes?” he asked. “Why is it so hard to believe a Celestial could also be a planet?”

Yondu thought for a moment, then shrugged. Given the nomadic lifestyle Ravagers had, chances were the man was used to all manner of strange things. “Well, I believe you, but I’m sorry. I can’t break the code.” He slid the holopad back to Ego with a genuine look of apology. “You’ll have to fetch your kids yerself.” He stood up and motioned for the child to do the same. “Thanks for the drinks, Mr. Ego.”

Ego stumbled to his feet and hovered by the table anxiously. “Are you sure you won’t reconsider?”

There was a moment’s pause, but Yondu shook his head. “’Fraid not. Tell ya what though,” (he typed a few numbers into the holopad) “if ya ever need someone to transport somethin’ that ain’t kids, feel free t’give us a call.”

“I . . . thank you,” Ego said, in a dejected but resigned tone. He stared at the holopad in defeat and slumped into his chair. After a moment, he chanced a glance at the pair as they retreated, and caught the child’s eye. The boy flashed him a sad smile and waved good-bye. Ego returned the gesture, congratulating himself all the while.

The entire meeting had turned out better than he planned. Now all there was left to do was find his associate and make a few alterations.

By this time tomorrow, Yondu would be his.

From what Ego gathered, Yondu’s Ravagers typically docked between 3-5 days at whatever planet or space port they had business at. This allowed them to gather new supplies, take care of any repairs, and give the crew a chance to engage in whatever they deemed as relaxing. At least, unless something chased them off, like the local law enforcement, a dissatisfied customer, a rival party . . .

. . . or rumors of Kree slavers hell-bent on recapturing freed slaves.

Ego sat at the café the next morning, this time in full view of the ship port and street. Yondu wouldn’t be able to leave without him knowing. It felt as if the very air thrummed with excitement. Soon Ego’s plan would come to fruition.

A cluster of red emerged from the crowd, and Ego strained his ears to listen. “—got an hour to get their asses to the ship,” Yondu said to a bearded man beside him. The Centaurian’s shoulders were tense and a scowl was etched on his face. “If they ain’t here by then we’re leavin’ without ‘em.”

The bearded man pounded his chest twice. “Aye Cap’n.” He took off the other way, leaving Yondu and the boy from yesterday.

The Xandarian child was standing so close to Yondu he was practically hiding inside his coat. “Y-Y’don’t think them Kree are actually here, d’ya, Cap’n?”

Ego watched as Yondu pursed his lips for a moment. “If they are, all they’re gonna get is an arrow through their skull.”

The child raised his arm and something glinted in his fist. “Or my knives in their throat!”

Yondu laughed. “There ya go, boy!” He shoved the child playfully. “Now let’s try callin—”

“Mr. Udonta!” Ego ran toward them, a single-minded desperation in his posture. It was time to finish the deal.

“You again?” Yondu faced him with a grimace. “Y’sure are persistent. Look, I told you I ain’t interested.”

“Please, I’m begging you!” Ego grasped Yondu’s coat with both hands. “I’ll . . . I’ll add another fifty-thousand units! Please, if you would just—”

Yondu seized the front of his shirt and yanked him sideways. For a moment, Ego wondered if he had underestimated the man’s temper. Then Yondu steadied him and a voice rang out in the silenced market street.

“That was a warning, Udonta!”

Right. Ego turned toward the blue-skinned Kree purist standing across the street. His “associate” was right on time, though Ego didn’t appreciate being shot at. He supposed it couldn’t be helped though, seeing as how he manipulated the Kree in an entirely different form.

“What kinda Kree fires a warning shot?” Yondu picked at his teeth, the picture of calm indifference aside from the exposed arrow holster at his hip. The child placed himself in front of Ego, knees bent with his hands hovering near some pockets. A child, protecting him? How laughable.

“If y’ask me, it seems like you Kree have gone soft,” Yondu continued. The once busy streetway was parted in a circle. It wasn’t wise to stand between a Kree and their target.

The Kree sneered, keeping his blaster leveled at Yondu’s chest. “Or perhaps I don’t wish to ruin the merchandise.”

Yondu froze at that, his implant glowing and humming. “Merchandise?” he repeated, his tone low and murderous. Several onlookers took that as a cue to flee.

“You were helpful to the Empire once before,” the Kree said, inching closer, “and you will be so once again. If you value your life then you’ll come with me.”

Yondu spat at ground in front of the Kree. “I value my life all right, which is exactly why I’ll be takin’ yours!” He pursed his lips but stiffened when the Kree abandoned his blaster for a gun that was slung across his back.

It was a black weapon the length of the Kree’s forearm. The grip was coiled with various skulls etched into the surface. It had a clawed muzzle that pulsed with yellow sparks. Rather showy and ridiculous in Ego’s opinion, but it served its purpose.

“I take it you haven’t forgotten what this is?” The Kree’s voice burst with sadistic glee. The child in front of Ego gasped, his tiny form trembling. Perfect. Ego had hoped he would be familiar with it as well.

Everything would go according to plan.

Yondu took a step forward, his arrow forgotten. "How in the ruttin' hell did you get yer hands onna Thromedinen Burst?" His words, while furious, were laced with fear. Ego wondered if Yondu was even aware of it.

“There are still a handful or so stowed away on our slave ships,” the Kree said. “Now I suggest you come with me before—”

Ego had heard enough. He’d received the confirmation he needed. He curled his pointer finger in a brief flicker of Light, and the Kree’s body obeyed.

Several things happened at once.

A crackling blaster discharge—a whistle—a burst of yellow—a streak of red—and a small body's arching leap.

When the moment passed, two bodies crumpled to the ground. The Kree slaver was one. His face was frozen in horror along with the arrow hole dead center of his forehead.

The Xandarian child was the second. A glowing silver cartridge was lodged into his chest with small, yellow tendrils spreading out from it underneath his skin. The street echoed with his tortured howls.

Yondu dropped to his knees at the writhing child’s side.

“KRAGLIN!”

A wave of satisfied relief relaxed Ego’s shoulders. The negotiations were progressing better than expected.

#gotg #yondu udonta #kraglin obfonteri #gotg2 #spoilers #in a way #my fanfiction #omigosh this took forever #sorry it took so long

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