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xiaosstepstool · 2 years

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Genshin Tickle Drabble

X READER EDITION

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Hi! It’s me, Océane <3 Today I wrote a quick little Drabble for @danibby, because her fics have always been amazing and I’ve always loved reading them. She’s a total light in my life and I wanted to return the favour, now that I have a blog I feel safe to do so on!

This fic is Aether x Reader, so anyone can read it. It’s mainly Ler!Aether, with a little switching in there at the end, per suggestion. I wrote it VERY quick and proofread even quicker, so if there’s any grammar or spelling mistakes, I’m sorry! I’ll probably find them and fix them later ehe! There’s really no setting, or plot, those are for longer fics! This was just for fluff and tickles <3

For now, enjoy this as is! Thanks to everyone who reads it <3

Without further ado…

AETHER

A/N: This fic is very specifically tickle related. If that’s not your thing, please skip!

Aether found great pleasure in sometimes talking for, well, hours. It was excusable, however, because he associated this habit with the fact he’d really never been alone before. He’d always had Lumine by his side, someone he could talk to for hours because they’d always had a great relationship, and then Paimon. Paimon, his favourite little emergency food, that could talk anyone’s ear off. Even his own!

So really, who could blame him? Well, anyone, who had to put up with him for more than half an hour at a time. But he didn’t mind. He believed his ability to talk forever was a good thing! He knew when to stop when needed… he thought he did.

Maybe he didn’t, though. Because there you were, dazing off into space while he talked about Archon knows what. You thought you were listening, really! How could you possibly not pay attention to the adorable blond beside you? It was just, the more he talked, the more you found your mind drifting off to places that just weren’t there….

What would you have for supper that night?

“Hey? Hey!” Aether seemed to finally catch on to the fact you weren’t present in that moment, and he snapped his fingers in front of your face to get your attention. “Were you really not listening to me that entire time? That was an awesome story! Now I have to tell it all over again. So, yes-“

“No!” You had to cut him off, for your own sanity. “I was listening! I heard every word, promise. You don’t have to tell the story again. How about we just, go for another walk around Wolvendom?”

Aether hummed. That did sound rather appealing! He just couldn’t shake the feeling you weren’t being honest with him.

“Are you sure you were listening…? How many electro slimes were there?” He watched the colour drain from your face and he clicked his tongue. “I knew you were lying! That’s so mean, y’know that? Honesty is the best quality! You failed at that!”

“Hey! I was being honest!” You tried to defend yourself. “It’s just, I uh, forgot! Do you know how many numbers there are? So many!” You chuckled, thinking you’d saved yourself. “How am I supposed to remember which one you’d said?”

You weren’t safe, however. You couldn’t have seen it coming, that sly little gloved hand that oh-so sneakily snaked behind you, to pinch you on your hip, right below your side. The squeak you let out was delectable, and Aether smirked.

“Do you know what happens to liars?“ He questioned, his sweet voice a purr as he took a step closer to you. Your heart pounded and you could feel it, you knew exactly what he was thinking.

“They get let free and never have to talk about this again?”

“Nope!” Then he pounced. “They get tickled!”

You tried to flee, but you tripped over your own feet and ended up in a heap on the ground within seconds. Aether made no effort to help you, his fingers had found their places on your body. Your tummy, your sides, your ribs- wherever he could get them! Whatever made you laugh the hardest, and let out the cutest squeals.

“Aehehehether! I’m sorry!” The pleas fell on deaf ears. Aether seemed to have absolutely no interest in being merciful, which was confirmed when he managed to wiggle those devious fingers under your arms and he finally lingered in a spot. A bad one, at that. He watched tears come to your eyes and still couldn’t be bothered to let up! He was determined to teach you a lesson for lying to him.

Oh, and he was a tease. “You deserve this,” he cooed at you. “Liars get tickled, especially on their worst spots~! Like… right here!” He dug into your armpits, to emphasis his point.

You could only think of one way out of this. Aether might’ve been a ruthless ler, but he left his own tickle spots so out in the open, so exposed! You just had to lift your arms, just a little…

“Oho, making this easier for me, are we?” He chuckled. “I knew you liked this, but wow! I didn’t think you’d- ack! Wahahait!”

Despite the red flush on your cheeks from Aether’s cruel teasing, you’d managed to reach out just enough to claw your fingers over his tummy. That succeeded in getting him to remove his hands from you, as he couldn’t sit still for the life of him, and he just had to swat your hands away. “Noho! You ca-cahahant!”

“Oh yes I can, you little rat!”

And so commenced, the most epic tickle fight that ever existed…

“… it was three electro slimes.”

“Archons, Aether!”

#.my stuff #pls be nice I’m sensitive #.Genshin #.aether #.x reader #.drabbles #genshin impact #ticklish!aether #switch!aether #switch!reader #ticklish!reader #tickling #tword fic #Genshin twording #.Drabble

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demonfox38 · 3 years

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Okay. Made it through the last season of Netflix's "Castlevania" interpretation. Thoughts are below the cut.

I've often thought of this series as the exploitation version of "Castlevania," and hiring Malcom McDowell confirms that.

Although, I find it hilarious that both Malcolm McDowell and Patrick Stewart have ended up voicing the same character. I'm sure there's a "Star Trek Generations" joke to be made in there, but I'm not Mike Stoklasa.

Also, I was cracking up a bit when Varney's plot twist happened. Mostly, because it came off a bit Skeletor-esque in vocal performance.

Also, also—laughing that the final boss went the "Castlevania: Lament of Innocence" route despite barely touching on that game's plot.

Animation had its ups and downs with this season. It seemed like there were some frame issues (not enough inbetweening.) I do appreciate how they incorporated more of Alucard's SOTN animations into his fights, however.

Additionally, some of the fight scenes' pacing seemed to have issues, particularly regarding weapon recovery.

The whole bit with St. Germain was off. Like, he's a weird asshole in "Castlevania: Curse of Darkness", but he's more of a weird asshole there in the same way that casually encountering "Doctor Who"'s Doctor would also be strange. Not a straight up villainous boob. Kinda makes sense thematically to have another character who is willing to do horrible shit for their lost loved one, but the series honestly did not do a good job establishing her. Like, did she even have a voice actor? Or a name? All I'm saying is it was much easier for outsiders to get the Lisa revenge thing Dracula had going.

Also, how dare you joke about not being deaf and then have a villainous monologue, TV show.

Greta's a good girl. Well, outside of being an occasional homewrecker. Point is, she's competent and trying her best to save people in a bad situation, and anyone having issues with her is not to be trusted in the same way that you don't trust people who don't like Rochelle from "Left 4 Dead 2."

Look at me. Do not trust people who do not like Rochelle from "Left 4 Dead 2." Yes, her writing could have been better, but she's still a viable character. Let people Thunder Child their ships on the rocks of your better self. Got me?

Also, y'all really need to embrace more polyamory. Or understand the fact that Alucard's not going to love just one person in his life. Dude lives to be at least 600 in the game's timeline. For a dude who loves humans, constricting him to just one who may live to be 100 at best is cruel.

There are some interesting philosophical dialogues going on here, but I can see where some people may lose their patience for them. Considering one of Castlevania's most popular memes is a philosophy debate, you're just gonna have to suck that up. My personal favorites included the topic of acting versus reacting, as well as having agency in one's story.

Striga's battle theme was cool, but otherwise, the music was forgettable. Yes, that is a sin. Punishable by Death? In this series, maybe!

The gore's still over the top. Which, okay, fine. There's a bit of that in game. It's just generally a bit more reserved with it or uses it in crucial boss fights.

RIP doggie.

The Targoviste plot's a bit of a wash, but it doesn't feel as useless as Trevor and Sypha's previous plot predicament. It's just nothing of a surprise, considering how many times the writing has played the "authority figures are useless" and "dark secret surprise" tropes in this series. Like, Greta being reliable is actually more surprising than anything with this plot.

I cannot emphasize enough how boring I found Carmilla's interpretation and plot arc. You guys could have had a giant, naked lesbian riding a skull and spewing magic at people while her cat-eared girlfriend jumped them for extra damage. But no. Vanilla lady with a scarlet sword for you. So long. Farewell. Auf Wiedersehen. Good night.

Gotta say, as much of a deviation from his source character as he is, Isaac really turned out well in this series. He's definitely evidence that you don't always need to stick to source material.

His Abel is fucking sick, dude. Way to go, king.

Also, I was expecting more violence from Hector this season. Oh, well. At least he got a teeny bit of a spine.

Look. I'm not an alchemist by any means. I'm just a bit baffled by this season's emphasis of obtaining a Rebis. Like, any time the game series has talked about the Magnum Opus of Alchemy, it's more been in pursuit of making a Philosopher's Stone (or at the very least, a Crimson Stone, as seen in "Castlevania: Lament of Innocence.") Pulling a Rebis out of the aether is…well. Could have been more interesting than it was. I mean, it was a bit nightmarish, but it really didn't do much.

Sypha's really never getting back to her family, is she?

Love the idea that the cross subweapon is basically a fancy chakram.

GERGOTH. BUDDY. FRIENDO.

Really appreciating the monster variety in these last two seasons. I mean, that's a big selling point of the "Castlevania" games. Not so much vampires standing around and bickering in dick-waving contests.

Breaking out of the bullet points to hit on the big subject of this season—that is, the ending being surprisingly happy.

There's been a lot of shit that's happened over the last few years. Obviously, a pandemic. Konami's run by pricks. Then, there's the situation with the allegations of sexual coercion with Warren Ellis. Additionally, the terrible ending of "Game of Thrones" likely impacted how this season was developed, considering it seemed to be chasing its progression in construction. (I mean, look at Carmilla and Daenerys.) I don't know how many people were happy with the last season of "Castlevania," but from my POV, it double-tapped itself in the foot with the way it pushed simultaneous sex and violence in its last two episodes. My point is, there was little taste for additional darkness, considering everything that has been happening. Society is drained.

A happy ending was what people really wanted. And man, did this pull through, in that regard. But, there's a conversation to be had in if this swerved too far or if it violates some artistic integrity to give people what they want. So, let's have it.

Look. Man. Have you seen a "Castlevania" ending? When you do it right, it's crumbled castles and rainbow-colored skies. If you do it really right, it results in a pretty girl holding the main character's hand. There is happiness in these games. Hope. Forgiveness and redemption. If this is supposed to be any bit an accurate interpretation of these games, it absolutely should end in such a joyful fashion. (Okay, maybe giving Dracula and Lisa a second honeymoon at the end was a bit much, but I get where people would want that.)

Did some items need to be addressed more? Absolutely. Alucard staking people and Hector getting sexually coerced into servitude are some pretty big topics to just wave away. (Oh, shit. That second part is even worse now with what Ellis was allegedly doing, isn't it?) I suppose I'm just glad the series didn't go full Sephiroth with Alucard. And at least Hector finally took some stand in his situation, even if it wasn't the bombastic, hateful revenge I'm used to seeing from this character in other stories.

I think the creators of this series were trying to save this show from the fate of "Game of Thrones." (To some extent, perhaps the "Voltron" re-interpretation as well.) There's so much media out there anymore that if a production team doesn't nail the ending, their creation gets wiped out of the collective consciousness. To that extent, I think the creators were successful in saving their series. Did it do damage to itself in yanking out of its construction and themes? A bit. But, in doing so, it pivoted back to being more like a proper "Castlevania" product. (And of course, by proper, I mean anything ignoring "Lords of Shadows." God, people need to stop chasing other products when developing "Castlevania" stuff and just let the series be as it is.)

I am very curious as to how much of this season was part of an original draft and how much was revised in backlash to everything that has happened. It doesn't seem like Trevor was intended to survive, but to some extent, Sypha had to. (I mean, until she has a kid, anyway. See "Lords of Shadows" series for dickery regarding that.) I'm also wondering if there was more intended for the Carmilla subplot, as much as the series was banging on about her invading locations. I'm not even sure St. Germain was intended to be a villain all along. Getting into a bitchfight with Death? Sure. Doing what he did here? That's a weird arc, dude.

If you come away from my POV with anything, it should be this: GO PLAY THE GAMES.

Do it. Do it, you ghouls. Go to the Steam store and download the "Castlevania Anniversary Collection." Boot up your PS3 or 4 or 18 or whatever and get "Symphony of the Night." Throttle Nintendo's stores until "Aria of Sorrow" or "Dawn of Sorrow" or "Harmony of Dissonance" or whatever rattles out of their moldy pockets. Find a ROM. Find an ISO. Just play a game. Especially, one of the ones made before 2010.

"Castlevania" as a game series isn't about hordes of vampires dick-waving at each other or edgy swearing or being grim and dark. Some of that stuff's there, sure. But, at its core, it's what game developers created when they looked at Universal Monster Movie creations and went "That's cool. Let's fight that!" It's a series about pushing technology in MMC chips to make rich, vibrant music. It's about flourishing artwork and layers of sprites dripping particles and gore onto players. It's sober and goofy and very pro curry.

The thing is, "Castlevania" players have their own unique connection to the series. We're the weirdos you see clapping their hands when a mutilated dinosaur shows up on screen. It's not because the monster alone is cool. It's that we've fought and struggled and bodied that thing through several floors like a goddamn "X-Men: Children of the Atom" stage. It's kicked our asses. We've kicked its ass. We've got a connection to it that you just don't get from passively watching it barf lasers through a computer monitor or TV screen. Like, you know how people go, "Well, the movie wasn't as good as the book?" It's obnoxious, sure. But, those who read the source materials have to go to the effort of constructing their own sets and people to understand what's happening. In a similar fashion, game players build up their own skill set to reach that next rung.

Maybe you don't always get a payout when you invest your resources into something. But, there is a sense of accomplishment, seeing what you can do.

There's a reason this series got an adaptation. I mean, outside of Konami's head executives wanting easy money. "Castlevania" is a fantastic video game series. Has it got a few problems? Oh yeah. Especially after outsourcing and pachislot machines became all the rage. But, there's a reason Simon and Richter Belmont are playable in "Super Smash Bros. Ultimate." There's a reason I spent a significant amount of time playing these games and writing or drawing fanworks for it. These games are wonderful. Beautiful. Difficult, but inspiring. Reasons I will still bang on about them decades years down the road.

When I get exasperated by layers of angst and edge lord content this Netflix series generated, I want you to know why. The roots of this show are good games held captive under poor management. Some people on staff know this. I wish they had more scenario and writing control. But mostly, I don't want to shit on them or their work. (Well, other than perhaps the obvious target.) I just want you to see what I love in these games.

And also to watch Crashervania. Because that's legit.

#castlevania #netflix castlevania #spoilers #tl;dr play ball or SOTN or a Sorrow game or something

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xiaowhore · 3 years

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This is so long-

Okay, Idea of Xiao fic:

The reader is a spirit born of the desires and dreams of a sick little girl, she has a strange disease that comes suddenly and lasts for long periods of time (months) before healing, leaving for a while and coming back again. That is why she is not usually outside and is usually alone in her room, sick or resting. But she's actually a pretty active, imaginative and curious little girl, and she'd love to travel and explore the world. Not to discourage her, the doctors and her parents told her that when she was older the disease would go away, and that she could go on adventures and live a normal life.

She usually dreamed of waking up to it, imagining herself as an old man in adventures and doing everything she dreamed of doing, so she created an idealized figure of what she would be like as old, who then became an imaginary friend and out of this came the reader. Although, she was rather a quiet person, and was like an older sister, she would tell her stories to distract her when she was sick and also sing songs about them, in addition to giving her hope that she could be healed.

She knew it was cruel, but she couldn't tell her otherwise, besides, a part of her believed that maybe, maybe, her dreams could come true someday.

There was a time in ma when the girl was fine for quite some time, so they let her go out and do whatever she wanted for mondstadt, the reader accompanying her along with her parents. While exploring she saw Venti who was singing a song, she was marabillated and loved his song, telling the reader how they were like hers. Before leaving, Venti made eye contact with the reader and she get scared, no one had ever seen her before and without the little girl noticing, she disappeared. The next day she met Venti again and apparently the girl had talked to him about her, but he knew she was not just an imaginary friend.

"You... what are you?"

She told him what it was (even though she herself didn't know what she was) and her relationship with the girl, she also told him that within here not long they would go to Lyue to find a doctor who could help the girl. He also told her that he would like to be able to make the girl's wishes come true, show her all the fantastic places that she had talked about and sung about and that she could grow up and have the life that she wanted so much. Venti listened and smiled, and asked her to do a duet to sing to the girl, she came and they sang, to her surprise, the people gathered, it seems that during her singing they could see and hear her, but at the end of the song, she became invisible and inaudible to everyone again. As venti left, she felt something heavy and cold against her palm, a bright vision hydro greeting her with her reflection.

She was able to make water and make illusions and shapes with it and used them to tell stories to the girl. Apparently people listened to her, but she decided not to pay too much attention to her, although the girl was happy that more people could enjoy her songs.

They go to lyue and stay at wangshu inn, at first people were scared of the sudden singing voice that started to be heard, but they got carried away by the wonderful voice and became used to it. (I imagine chongyun listening this and going there but we're not going to talk about that-) And Xiao, of course is one of those who hears this too. Although at first he was restless and even a little irritated by the disturbance of the usual silence, he found himself relaxing before the sweet voice, sometimes numbing it. The story is in general of how Xiao and she approach and overcome things like xiao's traumas and in the case of the reader overcome the girl's death. In the end also, the reader turns in a adeptus, Zhongli gave her that charge after seeing that she always went throughout lyue to sing and entertain people (after she overcame the girl's death). The ending would be where xiao and she are happy together, cause they now have someone by their side, someone to care and love.

Isekai idea:

The reader died (yes, she died) in a plane crash (she is now afraid of heights and everything that has to do with flying) and was saved by Paimon and Aether. She is scared and doesn't know what to do (her personality is I think identical to that of the girl from albedo's idea I had). She not knowing anyone and not having a place to go stays with them, but feels a useless and a burden, she is a normal person and cannot cope with monsters and when she sees them she is paralyzed with fear. When they arrive in madnostat, aether tells her to stay there while he makes commissions to earn money, but she feels guilty and asks amber for help in getting a job.

At first she works at Angel's Share, but feels uncomfortable working there among people who get drunk, but says nothing and keeps working. She thinks it would be ungrateful to want to change jobs, so she keeps working there for a couple of weeks. On one of his working days he meets venti, who immediately notices how uncomfortable she is, they talk for a while and he advises her to look for another job, but she does not give up and continues to work there.

Amber one day goes and asks how she is doing, but before the reader can answer Venti tells aber that she is uncomfortable working there and should look for another job. The reader tries to tell Amber that she is ok and doesn't mind working there anymore, but amber interrupts her and goes with her to find another job. In the end they go to where Jean is and on the way they meet Lisa, who was leaving the library. Lisa greets Amber and she returns the greeting, Lisa asks them what they are doing and Amber replies that looking for work for the reader, Lisa offers her work and ends up working in the library. In the end she ends up being quite close to Venti and is the one to whom she has told many things about her ( our) world.

In general she is only a spectator who sees everything from a distance, she doesn't know what todo either and doesn't like to go from one place to another without direction, she would like to have a place to belong to without feeling a stranger all the time. Before going to Lyue Venti gives her a vision (she has the same powers as the albedo idea reader). Honestly, I don't know very well how this story would go, I don't remember very well the story of the game and I don't know any place where I can see it again and in detail. Any ideas for this story are welcome, I need them.

dude... the personalities you give to the reader are so in depth...... normally, writers would just describe the reader vaguely, so im very much impressed. but i think i know why you have difficulty writing for what happens in the main plot? (i hope you don't take this the wrong way, this is just something harmless i noticed)

it seems you focus too much on the back story and it makes the main plot somewhat bland? or perhaps you just chose to miss more details on the main plot cuz you wanted to keep the surprises in your story? however, i do think your first idea was really interesting! i'm only talking about the isekai one (it would make sense if you just came up with the isekai idea recently and don't have much stuff for it yet) i don't think i have ideas concrete enough to be helpful, so i'm sorry about that, but maybe you can do something with the reader's fear of heights? like maybe she fell off from a high place again, and her first meeting with xiao is him catching her? aaaaaa i don't know,, it sounds cliche but i'm the type of person who'd enjoy that stuff ;-;

#mail — !

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9worldstales · 3 years

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MCU Loki: Speculations on the “Loki” series

So, for the fun of it I’m gonna speculate on the whole “Loki” series.

For start Time Variance Authority.

In the comic the TVA seems to represent the lawful alignment. It doesn’t mean it will do the same in the “Loki” series, Marvel sometimes change things but let’s pretend they left this unchanged.

Before you start thinking this is a good thing, let’s remember the lawful alignment doesn’t define the moral axis of something, merely the ethical one. General Thunderbolt Ross and the Krees can be considered as lawful as Captain America and Rhodey, only the first two are lawful evil while the last two are lawful good.

Karl Mordo in “Doctor Strange” instead moves from lawful good to lawful evil.

For the TVA what matters are the rules. They are, of course, sure that respecting the rules is a good thing, and if this requires to wipe out an entire temporal line… well, no problem of theirs.

In short the TVA are your sort of guys who might decide that no, the Avengers shouldn’t have gone back in time and hamper with the timeline and save half of the universe because… it’s against their rules.

Here they seem worried that Loki has changed things. I would argue that it’s the Avengers that went back in the past and change things but let’s explore what it means if Loki didn’t met up the same fate as the one of the ordinary timeline.

Well, for start the Bifrost doesn’t get repaired as Thor used the Tesseract to repair it.

This might mean that, for start the Nine Realms will have to do without Asgard’s protection but, in more MCU terms that Thor won’t be able to go back home. There’s to wonder if he’ll manage to make peace with Jane and reach for her when she will be possessed by the Aether.

If he doesn’t, as a result, the Aether can fall more easily in Malekit’s hands, who will attack Earth directly instead than Asgard.

We might not end up having Thanos because the Dark Elves win and wipe away people themselves, turning the whole series in a variation of “War of realms”.

Okay, no, I don’t think we’ll get “War of realms” but it’s a pity.

What I wonder if the fact that they have Loki and Moebius interact is because one is chaotic and the other is lawful and the theme of the story is going to be this.

Chaotic again, isn’t necessarily evil, it only means you don’t respect the rules.

Scott Lang from “Ant-Man” is chaotic good for example. The Vulture from “Spider Man Homecoming” is chaotic evil.

Same as Karl Mordo Loki tends to change his moral axis at need. Prior to “Thor” he’s chaotic good, in “The Avengers” he’s Chaotic evil, in “Avengers: Infinity War” he’s back on being Chaotic good again.

So the whole show can open the discussion of how respecting or not rules should be tied to moral values. We shouldn’t respect a law aimed at hurting others… but we shouldn’t break law carelessly either as there will be consequences.

For example…. There’s a scene showing Loki in Pompeii.

Should the people in the city be warned mount Somma (yeah, it’s mount Somma which erupted, what will remain of it after the eruption will be named Vesuvius) is about to erupt and therefore saved or should we let them all die because, after all, their death is kind of already happened from Loki and Mobius perspective?

It’s a question that, in a way, was opened and ignored in “Avengers: Endgame”. The Avengers decide to save all the people that were blipped away by Thanos… but what about the ones he killed previously?

The half of Asgardian refugees, Heimdall, Loki, the dwarves on Nidavellir, the people on Xandar he wiped away to get the power stone, the people that die in the battle of New York, that was still caused by Thanos even if he didn’t oversee it personally, Gamora’s family and people?

Thor arrives in Asgard and is forced to face that most of the people there will be dead… would it have been really bad if he warned them against Hela so that more could survive? If he saved his mom and then asked her to find an alternate way to get the same ending with the Dark Elves only this time it doesn’t include her dying?

It’s questions worth making because they touch our moral axis as, if we do nothing, we let those people die/dead.

For a greater good? How can we know the result and for who’s the greater good? For us?

So anyway this has the potential to be cool, because when the lines on the moral axis blur and you don’t know anymore if something is good or evil, the decisions are taken by the ethical axis.

And someone lawful would just say ‘the law says so therefore letting those people die has to be the good choice’ while someone chaotic would say ‘screw the law, it can’t be good, I’m gonna save my mom and worry about consequences later’.

And this is awesome material for a story.

Though, of course, they can also take inspiration from “Agent of Asgard” in which old Loki, despite thinking that nothing would change even if Loki were to try to be good, still changed the past so that Loki could have a better chance at life and could make a more informed decision in the end.

(the scene of Loki’s decision is “Agent of Asgard” is AWESOME and way better than whatever redemption arc the MCU came up with by the way so I’m all to get that if they do the appropriate work)

Going on.

In the comics Mobius is a bureaucrat, cloned for his job and who knows nothing else but it.

Of course Marvel can portray him differently but let’s assume they’ll run with this.

So it can be that for Mobius everything is just ‘data’ and people are merely ‘entities’ and this not because he’s evil but because that’s how he has been taught to live.

He studied all of Loki’s life, but that’s it, for him they probably were data, not someone’s life, just a list of facts with no emotional value attached.

Studying Loki’s life is a job, and he might dedicate to it with the same mind setting of a student studying Caesar’s life.

He might not stop to wonder how painful the stabbing was, how horrible it could have been to see that his son was among the stabbers, how desperately he attempted to protect himself as he tried to flee and how brutal the others were as they continued to stab him even when he fell and lay there defenceless.

All he might care for is he died in 15 March 44 BC, attacked by around 60 men and stabbed 23 times, one of the stabs given by Brutus and that’s it. And then on March 15th put on Tumblr a stabbed Caesar salad and joke on his death because, by now Caesar is no more viewed as a person, just as a historical record.

For Mobius Loki might be just a record and even if Loki sits in front of him, he’s no more than data and someone to use. If Mobius gets an arc in which he develops he might learn to view Loki as a person, which doesn’t necessarily mean he’ll stop being lawful.

He might learn to feel sorry for him but still say ‘but the law says this is it’ or he might shift his ethical axis.

It would still be an interesting plot.

And for Loki too there’s potential for things to be interesting because he might, for once, to feel in control.

Most of Loki’s life is dictated by him not being in control.

He didn’t get to decide to be a Frost Giant, picked up by Odin, raised by an Asgardian and revealed the truth too late. He didn’t get to decide to be the less favoured son and he came to believe nothing he would do would make him worthy in Odin’s eyes. He was sent by Thanos to conquer Earth, manipulated by the sceptre. And now the TVA has captured him and they’re forcing him to cooperate.

If he’s given the power to affect the past he might grow to believe he’s actually not forced to submit to other people’s choices but that he’s in control of his fate.

It’s part of the point of “Agent of Asgard”.

Old Loki came to believe no matter what he did, he couldn’t change things, he would always be the ‘god of lies’, but the Loki of “Agent of Asgard” instead decided he would be something else and became the master of his own fate.

It would be a good development.

Of course, I’ve not the slightest idea if Marvel will go according to this route.

There’s really too little to judge and I’ll admit I won’t like it much if the point is not so much to save Loki but save Lady Loki because, no offence to Lady Loki who might have an even worse past than Loki, but it’s Loki the character I grew to love and I wish would be saved.

Last but not least, as I feared the whole ‘You've literally stabbed people in the back like fifty times’ quote produced a lot of discussing when it shouldn’t have.

Like, we miss most of the content but, from the look of it, it’s not like Loki, on his own, decided to pay a visit to the TVA and to help them. They captured him, he even though they wanted to kill him, they very likely forced him to cooperate.

Now, in this case any guy with an ounce of brain does what Tony did when he was held captive by the Ten Rings and they asked him to build them weapons if they don’t want to end tortured or killed. They say ‘yes’, gain their trust and then build a Iron-Man suit behind their back with whom they can stab them. In the back, yeah, because that’s what people with a modicum intelligence and no magic hammer should do with guys who overpower them and held them captive.

It’s a basic survival skill, not a proof you’re untrustworthy. People don’t own captors to be trustworthy to them and this message must never be allowed to pass.

You has to be trustworthy with people who deserve it, not with people who force you to be subservient.

So yeah, I hope Loki will stab the TVA in the back because no matter how lawful an righteous they feel, they clearly impose to everyone their law and no matter how much they claim they make the world better, they’re clearly sacrificing people.

#loki #loki odinson #mobius m mobius #mcu loki #9 worlds study

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alvaar-aldaviir · 4 years

Text

Close Call

Anon requested the following:

Fog - hearing stay awake as they are carried to safety.

Repair - being confined to bed due to injury or illness and hating every second of it.

Misfit - getting out of bed too soon, insisting they feel much better, and collapsing / passing out.

All three: In which both twins are sidelined and Alvaar has to care for them?

Time Frame: Post Canon. No Spoilers

Notes: Established Alvaar/Alphinaud/Alisaie. Prompt fill for the Rest Prompts.

Cross posted to Ao3.

Alisaie wasn’t entirely certain what happened. She remembers rushing ahead, trying to reach one of the Brass Blades further away from them. A young hyur, newly recruited and eager to prove himself on the field. Undoubtedly the sort to find themselves into the most trouble. From there it’s... hazy.

Fire. A very loud noise that felt like it was still echoing in her skull. And what seemed like far, far too much blood but from where she wasn’t...

She wasn’t...

Gods she was exhausted. Exhausted and cold and sorely wishing whatever she was curled up on would just stop with the bouncing about already.

Distantly she hears something familiar. Something important. Something demanding she pay attention.

There’s a flicker of red and white robes in her blurred vision. A gentle touch to her head that reminds her of years long past. Of the Ruby Sea and one of those rare times she finally felt like someone had approved of and been genuinely proud of her. Alvaar’s hand settling into her still damp hair after she’d successfully distracted and escaped the Red Kojin, and the warm and approving smile he’d given her that had soothed the ache of past failures even for just a moment...

It’s not Alvaar she sees. This hyur woman is too short, a long and wild mane of russet hair framing a stubborn but gentle face.

“Stay awake,” the woman murmurs, voice low but calm even as she issues the order with the maternal confidence of a seasoned healer.

“What?” Alisaie asks, or tries to at least, as the word catches in her throat and wheezes out instead.

“It’s not time for you yet,” she explains simply, hand still settled against her hair and ruffling pale strands with a familiar motion. “You need to-”

“-STAY AWAKE!”

It jars her from her thoughts, some of the fog lifting to look up at the Bard currently carrying her. The grim set of his determined expression as he drags in air with deep and almost bestial breaths while the battlefield blurs past them.

Distantly she can hear music. Feel the warm breeze that usually follows him when he’s worked his Bardic abilities to full swing.

“Stay with me you hear? Keep listening to my voice and don’t drift off. I mean it!” Alvaar demands, voice louder than normal and rough from the sprint he’s making.

She wants to listen to him. This is probably the most demanding he’s ever been in her presence. The last thought she has before she slips under is that he and that White Mage seem very alike.

Alisaie wakes up to a steady and deep ache in almost everything, but especially focused on her right side. Propped up slightly against pillows and a modestly comfortable bed in a darkened room. When she tries to feel out the damage, she comes to the puzzled realization her right arm is in a sling and her left hand is tangled up with someone else’s. Before she can even try and push herself up to sort things out there’s a warm palm settling to her collarbone and pressing her back down.

“Don’t,” Alvaar murmurs from somewhere in the dark before the bed she’s laying on dips a bit as he perches beside her. Pulling away he fussed with something nearby before the strike and hiss of a match sounds as he lights the bedside lamp.

It throws a warm light about the rustic room they’re in, setting shadows to dancing across wooden supports and plastered stone. Some small study converted into a makeshift private medical ward.

“You look terrible,” she remarks without thought after meeting Alvaar’s pale gaze, the Bard still a bit bleary eyed and the shadows emphasizing the fatigue on his face.

“Yea? Well you don’t look like roses and kittens either,” he remarks flatly before a weak grin tugs at his mouth in spite of himself, brushing her short hair back with a careful touch. “But I’m glad to see you awake. You gave us all a scare.”

“Did I? Where’s Alphinaud?” she asks, glancing around. “He should be here any minute to harp on me about staying in bed and recovering...”

“Next to you.”

That makes her blink, finally looking down and noticing the second lump under the thin blanket beside her. Settled as close as he could get without disturbing her, fingers threaded tight with her own even as he slept.

“You’re very lucky. You only got hit with shrapnel. Barely missed your lung, but you were bleeding so badly... Alphinaud drained every drop of aether he had getting you stabilized before I could get you back to the chirurgeons,” Alvaar whispered.

“What happened?” she asked, still not looking away from the face of her twin and the worried set of his brow even as he slept.

“Stray magitek shot hit one of the ceruleam tanks on a broken reaper,” Alvaar murmured. “Sent metal shards everywhere.” The toughened fingers that soothe over her hair draws her attention back to him, studying the tight look of concern on his face. Cupping her jaw gently, he strokes the rough edge of his thumb along her cheek, a tender gesture she shifts into without thought. Shutting her eyes as he leans in closer, she stays quiet as he presses a kiss to the top of her head and nuzzles into her hair before going still and savoring the closeness. It speaks more of his concern than any amount of chastising or flowery words. Evoking a quiet and soft sort of warmth in her heart that almost always gentled the sharper edges of her words and personality.

“M’ okay,” she mumbles. “You don’t need to fuss. I wanted to sleep anyway.”

“Good... Could you humor me? Just a moment longer,” he whispers, words soft and airy as they’re breathed so close against her skin and it makes her heart thump despite herself. Giving an answering hum before he’s cradling her face in both hands and pressing another kiss to her nose. Her brow. A few more feather-soft presses of lips against her cheeks as his fingers brush along her ears before his forehead and nose nudge against hers and stay. Warm and tender and filled with the all-consuming love the Bard just seemed to give as naturally as breathing.

“I love you,” she murmurs without thought, wishing she could wrap her arms around him even as she thinks it doesn’t matter when they still feel that close anyway.

“Love you too, my dearest chevalier. Please, for just a bit, no brave heroics? I know that’s your default, but you probably shaved a year or three off my life today and this world needs you,” Alvaar returned quietly.

It ruffles her ire just a little, as being sick or injured always does. But she’s tired and sore and the warmth and patient intimacy of the moment win her over in the end.

“Alright... But I expect fresh tarts and tea tomorrow,” she breathes, smirking faintly at the huff of amusement that leaves him.

“I’ll do my best with what I’ve got. Get some rest, I’ll be here if you need anything.”

“You know I hate being bedridden,” Alisaie huffs the next morning, even as her injuries throb faintly as she remains leaned into Alvaar’s side with her cheek resting against his shoulder. She heaves a slow breath and waits for him to turn the page of his book given her reading speed is faster than his own. There’s a temptation to tease him for only having romance novels and sheet music on him, but the opening chapter had been enjoyable enough to still her tongue.

“I do. What page do you think the smut scene happens on?” he asked lightly.

“How long is it?”

He paused to flip to the back. “... 432.”

“Mmm I bet 120,” she answered frowning a bit at his following snort.

“Amateur,” he remarked lightly, smirking with amusement.

“Oh? Pray tell what’s your guess?”

Holding the page with a finger he flipped the book closed to study the thickness a moment before checking the page number of a seemingly random section. “They’ll do a cocktease at around 250 to build tension but won’t do the actual act for at least another 50 pages. It’s too slow burn even for a one off to happen a quarter in. Too much focus on a plot and world setting.”

It earned a faint chuckle from her. “I’d place a bet on that but somehow I’m inclined to believe you’ve read enough of these sordid tales to know.”

“It’s something to do and the novels are cheap,” he answered before they both perked up at the third occupant of the bed as he stirred with a soft noise of protest.

Pushing himself up to sitting, Alphinaud groaned faintly as he rubbed at his face sleepily, long hair ruffled and sticking up from where he slept on it. It made Alisaie unconsciously reach over to pet it smooth with her good arm given Alvaar was too far away to beat her to it.

“Good morning Alphinaud,” she announced simply, studying him blankly when he gave a start and looked back at her with wide eyes.

“Alisaie,” he whispered, staring at her in disbelief a moment before he reached up to grip her hand in his and give a brave if slightly teary-eyed smile. “I am glad to see you awake and well dear sister. I... we both were concerned for you.”

“I’ll be a sight better when Alvaar lets me out of this bed,” she huffed but gave her twin a faint smile anyway even as he frowned faintly.

“You had best stay put until the chirurgeons give you leave of it,” he chided flatly.

“Or what? You’ll park a carbuncle on me?” she challenged wryly.

“I very well may.” Casting his gaze over to Alvaar, his expression softened further. “I see you are up and about as well my friend. I’m sorry to have left everything to you by falling asleep. It was not my intention.”

A shrug rolled off a broad shoulder flippantly as the Bard tossed a hand in nonchalance. “Don’t worry about it. I just had to assist your spell with Bardsong, not dump my everything into it. You needed the rest more than I did.”

“But neither was I the one that returned to the fray to lead a decisive charge,” the Scholar shot back frankly.

Meeting the scrutinizing stare, Alvaar offered another faint shrug. “And here I am, resting. I would suggest you do likewise. I brought you breakfast. I would have done your hair too, but you were quite content where you were. Hold still and let me fix it for you.” Snapping the book shut once he’d tossed a bookmark in place, he set the paperback aside and eased away from Alisaie’s side.

Squinting out the open window and the daylight blazing outside Alphinaud shook his head. “No, it seems to be well past noon as is. I should gather the reports and the recent status of our positions,” he countered, already slipping out from the covers and sweeping his hair back into some rough sense of order.

“Hold up a second would you? At least take a moment to eat something,” Alvaar chided, slipping to his feet and starting to round the bed.

“Knowing you? It’s likely something I can eat on the way,” he returned with dry amusement. “I’ll be alright, but undoubtedly Raubahn will be interested in my insight and I shouldn’t keep him waiting.”

The Bard paused at the corner of the bed, frowning faintly at the Scholar who now stood an easy two inches above him.

“If it makes you feel better, I can bring them back here to review?” Alphinaud offered, smoothing the wrinkles out of his shirt before moving for his longcoat draped over the back of a nearby chair. He’d made it all of three steps before his knee buckled, Alvaar swooping in abruptly and catching him before his head could meet the floor.

Studying him with a flat look, Alvaar tsked under his breath. Shifting his grip so he can release a hand and press the back of it to the Scholar’s brow. “You’re running cold. Aether deprivation... Come on, Raubahn and the Alliance will make do without us. Let’s get you back in bed where you’re going to eat something alright? I’ve got a potion or three in my bag.”

“I’m fine... just... slipped,” Alphinaud huffed.

“You almost smashed your skull on the floor Alphinaud, I would do as Alvaar says,” Alisaie remarked flatly from the bed, now parked towards the center of it where she’d yanked herself on reflex in fright.

“Come on love, don’t be stubborn,” Alvaar murmured, scooping him up in his arms and lifting him easily. A slight amused grin tugged at his face as the Scholar glowered at him.

“I’m fine,” he insisted again.

“Sure. Humor me anyway? I don’t need any more scares today. My heart can’t take it,” Alvaar argued lightly, getting the man situated back on the bed and fussing the blankets back over him.

Alphinaud was less than happy about it, even as a small plate of cinnamon rolls was held out to him and accepted.

“This is far too sweet for breakfast,” he snipped softly.

“It will help give you a boost. If I’d known when you’d be waking up, I would have had a drink ready for you. But cold tea or coffee is the worst, so what do you want me to fetch you?” Alvaar asked lightly, ignoring the Scholar’s sour mood.

“Coffee. ... thank you.”

“Tea for me please,” Alisaie chirped, mostly because she knew Alvaar was about to ask anyway.

“Alright. Stay in bed the both of you. I come back and you’re gone, I’ll tell Y’shtola,” Alvaar threatened as he collected a few empty glasses and plates before excusing himself.

“... Pest,” Alphinaud remarked after the Bard’s steps had faded.

“Definitely,” Alisaie agreed as she leaned into him, plucking a cinnamon roll off his plate and taking a delicate bite. “But I suppose we both have to suffer being bedridden together,” she murmured after swallowing and taking another bite.

He made a noncommittal noise, but even then he leaned back into her shoulder gently. The pair sharing a silent reassurance that the other was fine.

“Y’shtola’s not even here,” Alisaie commented lightly.

“I’m not taking chances,” Alphinaud returned promptly.

“Me neither.”

Curled back up in bed with the pair a few hours later, Alphinaud on his third ether with his hair freshly brushed and braided, and Alisaie having just had her wound checked and another wash of restorative magic on her deeper wounds, Alvaar casually flipped the page of his book. Alisaie was slouched down enough to rest warm and cozy against his right shoulder and Alphinaud mirrored on his left. It was almost, if he ignored the circumstances entirely, like a weekend morning when things were relatively peaceful. Those rare times they could all lounge in bed late into the day and be comfortable together. Something so innocuously domestic he could still scarcely believe it possible for him.

It was a thought that left his heart soft and warm, and given the fright of the last day the Bard hoarded it close as he often did with these quiet moments.

“So, when do you think the smut scene happens?” he asked lightly on reflex.

“I still think it’s sooner,” Alisaie pointed out. “There’s no way it doesn’t happen before page 200.”

“No, there’s too much world building, it will take longer than that,” Alphinaud commented, puzzled at Alvaar’s soft chuckle and his sisters look of betrayed disbelief.

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algrolo · 4 years

Text

Homestuck 0.3

Alternative title: Ev Fixes Homestuck by taking custody of it from Hussie

This is gonna be a LONG piece but essentially, the entire plot of the story’s under the cut

Characters (no names yet, just classpects):

Sylph of Doom: Main character, has interests in coding and technology. Has a neutral personality, mild depression (will expand upon later), and just wants to fix problems, including their game.

Thief of Rage: Headstrong, confident leader of the group. Always trying to protect others without fully valuing their own well-being. Interests in weapons, fighting, and culture.

Bard of Mind: Sleepy and insightful friend of everyone. Constantly dreaming of a new idea and ways to achieve that dream. Interests in space, planets, and reality.

Mage of Blood: Stuck-up know-it-all of the group. Snooty and opinionated, but still a good person. Tends to let problems happen by not thinking through their own words. Interests in biology, nature, and evolution.

Act 1: Our four heroes are, naturally, all stuck at home. The first couple pages help introduce characters, personalities, and relationships. Everyone seems good friends except the Mage who the others more or less tolerate. They can be fun /sometimes/ I guess. [Since homestuck has natural ties to the years it was written in, I think it would be apt that the kids are stuck at home due to some global event, aka a virus and stay at home orders. Obviously this would be kept vague but would tie the narrative to a relative time.] Sylph gets a package in the mail with a video game with an almost cryptic letter. “Complete the loop. Escape the Doom. Good luck and I’m sorry.” After mulling over what this could mean with their friends, they decide to boot up the game and see what this mystery could be. SBURB initializes, completes its boot up, then waits for its server player. Confused but highly intrigued about this game and set-up, Sylph asks everyone if they know about this server client, which of course they don’t know what it is if they didn’t know what the game was, moron. Sylph cracks open the game to find its code to see if they can replicate the client and send to one of their friends. Their computer begins to glow, spreading to their entire house, and with a flash of light, their house completely vanishes from the world. EoA1

Act 2: Sylph has the game’s “code” open but it is not on their computer. Instead, their entire house has been transported to this liminal space where code circulates constantly around the house. Sylph can still chat with and contact their friends, who all believe they are losing their mind. The code is like nothing Sylph had ever seen before. Upon mentioning that it seems alive, like the code is constantly changing and evolving, Mage gains interest. Sylph is able to pull enough pieces out of the circulating code and develop a barebones server-side SBURB copy. Conveniently, since messaging still works so does file share, I guess, and they send the code over to the Mage. The Mage runs it, and the Sylph’s, SBURB comes alive. Still trapped in this aether, The Sylph keeps tinkering with the client-side copy, eventually coding in its ability to actually move objects in their house and place the special objects the game is flagging as important. Sylph begins to hit a dead-end, not knowing what all these objects are meant to do. Mage suggests sending the copy of player-side SBURB to them, but its file size is literally infinity. Sylph ends up recoding the player-side, utilizing what they learned from coding the server-side, and sends the files to the Mage. The Thief and the Bard are both skeptical of everything transpiring, until Sylph uploads a video of the code circulating outside their house while giving the camera the middle finger. The Bard suggests that instead of whatever the heck is happening there, the Sylph should designate some sort of place for each house to go. After helping them with planetary development, The Sylph sends out the copies for the newest client-side and server-side codes to the Mage and the Bard. They both activate their copies and the Mage’s house is transported out of existence. EoA2

Act3: The game keeps evolving in this fashion as the Thief also eventually joins this nonsense. Each person’s interests help shape the fundamental base of the game. The Sylph is the master architect and coder, the Mage is obsessed with evolution and how the game is actually alive, the Bard creates planets and life, and the Thief gives these planets purpose and conflict. Before the Thief enters the game as the server side, the Sylph has gotten annoyed at how slow this process is with the entire group always waiting on them. Pulling out pieces of the code, they find this bizarre machine that enables the others to modify their sessions without requiring code. However, since these machines seem to only affect the client-side copy, the group has to work together to change their sessions. The server-side individual just needs to type in a command and the game tries to react. [these machines become the same devices used by the Exiles.] With even that process being deemed slow and tedious, the Thief suggests joining all their sessions together so they can travel between them and essentially work on their own projects while all modifying the same game. The Sylph completes the loops by pulling the Thief in, and suddenly all four planets are now enveloped by the circulating code of the Sylph’s session. EoA3

Act 4: With each person working on different components of the game, the game evolves at an exponential rate. However, the Sylph points out that no matter what they do, they are not replicating the original game’s code as their “code” is completely static, unlike the code that surrounds their session which seems to be constantly changing. The Mage proposes a radical solution: let the game evolve itself. As the four continue to add their influences, the game will also develop its own, resulting in its living capacity. With a single line of >if:problem, solve, the code circulating their session stops moving. In the eerie silence, the code fades away leaving only the void. The game has achieved its objective, have someone else create its living properties. With an almost somber attitude, the four continue to work on, now with the intent of returning back to their world. When the game weaponizes the ring of meteors that the Bard had developed, the four realize their mistake. The game has set the meteors to the only other place it knows, Earth. With no home to escape back to, the only way forward is to create a new world. The only way to do that is to play the game. EoA4

Act 5: Dissent sets in. While the players are still powerful and can change the base coding of the game, the game has now spiraled out of their control. They develop the capatchalogue system for convenience, as well as the weapon and building systems inspired by the Thief. The machines become more advanced, able to be modified by seemingly everything and only limited by the individual’s creativity. But the toll of the game creation is setting in. The Bard has little interest in continuing coding and has been spending much time sleeping and dreaming. In doing so, they unintentionally create Prospit, Derse, and the dreamselves. The Sylph is shocked to learn that their dreamself is actually a girl and not a boy. He attempts to keep this secret but eventually the others find out; like everything else in the game, they shrug and let it exist without too much of a thought. The Mage has nearly locked themself away in their room, determined to solve the problems through evolution and biology. They create the frog breeding system and the game’s ability to create a totally new universe. The Thief has set out to conquer the game and its plot. The Sylph continues to find an out through coding. The group’s struggle creates the classpects and godtiers, as the game deigns each with a class and aspect. The first to die is the Bard’s dreamself, killed in a Derse assassination plot. Without the escape of their dreamself, the Bard begins to truly spiral out of control. The Thief goes god tier purely to power themselves up for fighting the game, which has gotten more and more difficult. Fearing for his dreamself’s safety more than his own, the Sylph switches himself with the dreamself and continues his coding operations on Prospit. His fears become actualized as he finds his door busted down and a gun pointing at him. He leaps towards the bed and is shot in midair, still landing on the bed. As the Derse assassin approaches to finish the job, the bed begins glowing, as the second half of the Sylph’s plan is realized; they switched their bed with their godtier bed. The Sylph raises his head to see the assassin who’s in shock and flashes a quick, sly smile at having outsmarted them. The light grows brighter, and the entire room and tower explodes. EoA5

Act 6 Act 1: With the game actively assisting the Sylph in realizing she’s trans, her attitude towards the game changes. She believes the game is not, in fact, malicious and out to get them. This realization comes too late as the other three have already gone too far. The Mage is the first to fully die. After not hearing from them in weeks, the group decide to pause their own causes and check in on them in person. They find them lost and disillusioned, believing that they have found a way out of the game. Clearly, the isolation and pressures of the game were too much to handle and after a flip of the switch on the newest line of code they developed, the Mage’s existence is consumed by the game, as the three friends watch in horror as the Mage’s body is turned into code right before them and stripped away. [This creates the existence of the horrorterrors.] After this, the coding machines are locked away with only the Sylph continuing to work on the code due to her knowledge of actual coding and experience with the game. Reeling in shock, the group decides to actively keep track of each other and stay connected to prevent a similar case of isolation from happening. When the Thief goes to their denizen for guidance, the metaphorical and actual rage that they had been stealing from their enemies and friends is finally unleashed due to the mounting pressure and stress. Consumed by rage and with a new goal to destroy the game, including the code, the denizen lashes out and kills the Thief before they can act. Their death is seen as Just. The Sylph, learning of these events, rushes to find the Bard who is out on the fringes of their session staring out into the void. When she turns around, her eyes are alight and dazzling and she has a somber smile on her face. She knows of the Thief’s demise, but she is not as distraught as the Sylph expected. They tell her about how it doesn’t matter anymore, how nothing matters, and all they want to do is dream. In their dreams they see everyone, still alive and happy, not trapped in this stupid game. Behind her, bubbles start appearing with these visions, of versions of the group in different scenarios, the infinite timelines where they are happy and alive. When the Sylph attempts to reach out, the Bard shakes her head and slowly floats away into the bubbles, as the bubbles float away from the session. [These become the dream bubbles if it wasn’t completely clear.] The Sylph is now alone, in a doomed session. EoA6A1

Act 6 Act 2: The Sylph refuses to die. With her realization of her own identity, she is more than ever determined to beat her own depression back and live, at any cost. So she continues coding. She made the mess, the prison shes currently in, so she is adamant she can break out. Time begins to pass to the point it begins to feel unreal. The consorts start dying out and the kingdoms begin to fall in old age. On the fringes of the session, the Sylph notices that the game is starting to break apart. tiny fragments of what appears to be static have started to form, as the game starts to show physical signs of its own deterioration. As the static expands, the Sylph realizes that she herself is not enough to solve the game. First, she writes a letter to herself, and send a copy of the SBURB client-side disc back to her past self, effectively closing that loop. She then sends out the game all across the universe, in every reality, willing even doomed timelines and realities into existence through her classpect. She turns her house into a bunker, and sets up a computer and screen system utilizing the previously locked away coding machines [this facility is remnant of the facilities the exiles used.]. And then she runs her simulation. She uses the game to beat the game, trying to find a session where the players succeeded. And she is only met with failure and doom. Yes, some sessions succeed and the players escape, but the entire universe just remains doomed. The billions and trillions of timelines, following different people and species, are all deemed failed by the game and the computer. All she can do is wait. Let the simulation run. Do not give into Doom. The static does not cease its expansion. Soon the entire outside of the session is consumed. Then the kingdoms, followed by the planets of the Bard, the Thief, and the Mage. The Sylph preoccupies her time by waiting, watching the static, knowing that if she gives in, the static will consume her planet too. All she can do is wait. At some point in this struggle, she locks herself away in the bunker, the static too much to bear and too much a reminder of her lost friends. The computer still runs, looking for the answer. The static is shown consuming more and more of her planet. As she lies with her head down on one of the computer panels, static starts to appear in her eyes with a single tear. Then a single beep rings out. It echoes through the endless caverns of computers and servers attempting to find an answer. She bolts up as the beep rings out a second time, the static disappearing completely, and runs to find its source. She takes the simulation and runs it into the computer to see why this timeline has saved her. And she finds a group of 12 aliens, called trolls on the planet of Alternia, playing a version of her game called SGRUB. As she runs through the timeline, she questions what makes this one different. They scratch the session. A new group of trolls take over. These ones successfully create a new universe, but its fundamentally broken. Humans play their own game of SBURB in this universe, and they too have to scratch their game. But the Sylph realizes something she never thought to try before. She watches these kids break her game. Not in the way that the Thief sought to destroy the game, but they refuse to play the game and instead make their own rules. They jump out of their own session into their scratched session, make a new sun and a literal god, only to take down that god, and beat the game with a group from three different sessions. And that’s her answer. She has to break the game. Suddenly, the light starts flickering. She nervously looks ahead to what could be the cause of it, and sees the split timelines after they have beaten the game. They had won, they had made it, but something was causing change, causing it to fail all over again. She needed to prevent this. This was her only chance at freedom. Attempting to see how much time she has, she goes to her bunker door, opening it to find only static, a wall of black and white. She quickly slams the door shut in fear, realizing time is up. As she leans with her back on the door, panting in fear, she sees her old self. He is younger, and looks at her with an almost blank expression. He then smiles, and gives her a thumbs up, and instantly she understands what she must do. There’s only one way out, only one way left to break the game, she releases a sigh. She opens her eyes and her past self is gone. She opens the door again to the static, and walks in. EoA6A2

Intermission ????: You are the MSPAreader. You have just watched the Sylph walk into the void and now all you see is static. There is no next button. There’s no where else to go. You are confused. That confusion is only magnified as the static on your computer seems to glow brighter and become more erratic. The monitor begins to shake and then your whole desk. You back away as the light grow brighter and brighter. The screen starts to crack and you duck behind your chair for cover. The creaking only magnifies until you hear a loud shatter as your monitor explodes in a dazzling, white light. When you open your eyes, you see her. Before you stands the Sylph, except, she not a Sylph of Doom anymore. She has a completely different outfit, covered entirely in shades of white, with the symbol of SBURB where her aspect should be. She lands in front of you and you broken computer stops glowing. She is dazzling and beautiful. She looks at you and just says “Thank you for doing your part.” And then she is gone.

Act 6 Act 3: A group of Hussies are all in a room together. You see them frantically trying to write Homestuck. They all have blank eyes as each version of Hussie is dead and doomed. The door suddenly flies open and the Ascended kicks it in. Papers go flying and all the Hussies stop dead in their tracks. She looks around at the madness, at the notes and scribblings on the walls. And she sighs. In trying to fix this timeline, he himself had ruined it. More accurately, he had doomed it. She raises her hand and snaps, and suddenly all the Hussies are now wearing shirts with Doom aspects instead of Space. No matter what you do, no matter what your write, it will always be doomed, she tells them. This time, it’s my turn to fix it. And with a wave of her hand, she disappears. The Ascended reappears on Earth C, just before the split of the timelines. She busts in on the picnic and tells John and Roxy to gather all the kids and trolls on Earth C for her announcement. When everyone has arrived, she introduces herself, and explains that she has come to finish this timeline. She tells them of everything she’s been through, and explains how she is now the manifestation of SBURB, a literal, actual god of the universe. And there is one thing left in their story. The humans must fight Lord English to complete the timeline and the last loop. She tells them outright their fate, but warns them if they do not, then John would never have been able to gain his powers, thus dooming this and all future timelines. There is no other answer. But she still gives them a choice [albeit heavily stacked] and the kids decided to go fight LE. The Ascended appears after the battle to the weary and beaten Alpha Kids. She thanks them for their sacrifice and brings them back to their timeline with the trolls and cherub. As a final gift, she offers them their loved ones back, John, Rose, Dave, and Jade, at the cost of the four human’s god tiers. They will age and die, just like the trolls, and the universe will continue on as it always should have. The group accepts this offer and the Ascended brings back the kids at the sacrifice of godhood and immortality. With only one god left in the universe, not doomed or trapped in a blackhole for all time, she bids them all goodbye and leaves Earth C. EoA6A3

Act 7: The Ascended puts down her glass on the table and concludes her story. Across from her sit Sollux and Aradia. Sollux is clearly annoyed and has something to say while Aradia has a big grin across her face, enamored by the tale. Sollux starts protesting at the transpired events, calling them mostly bullshit, and especially calling bullshit on the Ascended being literal SBURB and god of the universe. She just shrugs him off with a smirk. He follows up his disbelief with asking why if she took the godtiers of the humans, why hadn’t she taken Aradia’s. She replies that Aradia is not truly connected with the story of, what the Ascended has nicknamed, Homestuck. While she and Sollux do originate from the successful timeline, they are more or less harmless observers of the dream bubbles and their actions do not disrupt the natural order of the universe. She shows them a dream bubble in which Dirk has gone evil, proclaiming to be the new bad guy of the narrative, and Aradia and Sollux seem to understand the point she’s trying to make. Aradia, who had been largely silent, asks what the Ascended will do now if she is everything and the universe. She shrugs and answers “I don’t know, I’ll probably watch some anime or something. I heard the newest season of BNHA was pretty good so maybe I’ll watch that.” Sollux loses his damn mind at the prospect of the universe deciding to watch cartoons to which the Ascended chuckles and responds “Why must I continue to do something important? Is it not enough for my story to be over, but for me to continue to exist? I believe I exist even after my story has concluded, so what I decide to do with that existence is pure freedom. I have all of eternity to do whatever I want and quite frankly, 1. I deserve it and 2. I’m going to do whatever makes me happy.” Aradia nods and smiles, completely understand that answer while Sollux tries to desperately protest. As the camera pulls away, from the table, we see Aradia and the Ascended chuckling at Sollux’s protests; further back, we see the dream bubble they are currently in; still further back the screen goes black as the bubbles fade out of sight. Left in the void by the Ascended, we see, in her penmanship, the words “To the living, to the dead, the doomed, and anyone else in-between, thank you for listening to my story. This is the Ascended, signing off.”

The End

#this is my art #holy fuck i cant believe i finally wrote it all down

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zippdementia · 4 years

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Part 77 Alignment May Vary: A Little Touch of Undermountain

Last time, my players got wrapped up with a bunch of Githzerai and so I needed to come up with a Gith dungeon. For the next piece of the adventure, I used level 16 of Undermountain, so following will be spoilers for that level of 5e’s Undermountain. If you don’t mind, then read on to see how it progressed!

When I prep for a dungeon, I like to read the whole thing first. Not in incredible detail while taking notes or anything, but just skimming through, browsing maps, getting the general idea, spotting interesting rooms, getting a sense of the challenge.

What I’m really trying to do is to find the story.

Every dungeon tells a tale, or at least has the ability to tell a tale. There is no exception to this. Sometimes the tale is very deliberate, other times it will read differently to each GM, based on the personal biases and aesthetics they bring to their reading of the dungeon. For instance, in a dungeon run by Kobolds but with no details as to why they are there, different DMs will draw different conclusions. Some might look at the treasure room and determine that the Kobolds must be protecting an ancient treasure of their people. Bam, there you have a story. Others might notice that the Kobolds are oddly led by a Drow wizard and conclude that this is only the tip of a greater invasion dwelling just below the surface. Another might take the same data and think that this is the dwelling of an outcast Drow, who pridefully believes this to be the first step towards his conquering of the world. Even another might see this and believe that the Drow has been magically enchanted to believe that he himself is a Kobold, and the Kobolds serving him don’t have the courage to try and convince him otherwise, not after what happened to poor pussbottom...

In the case of the dungeon levels of Undermountain, we have quite a bit to go on. Each level in the fifth edition rendition of the dungeon is given at least one deliberate and major story that can be used as a throughline without and several smaller plot lines that are left more open for the DM and players to develop through their actions. In level 16, there is a Githyanki fortress led by a female warrior, Al’Chaia. Wrapped up in her rule is a number of complications. For one, she has encouraged competition among her followers and this has had led to at least one believing they could be a better ruler than she is. Even among her dragon pets, there is competition, as one of the young dragons is seeking to escape the rule of his great red mother and is willing to burn his way to freedom if given the opportunity and a strong enough party of (momentary) allies. And speaking of momentary allies, there are prisoners in the dungeon just waiting for a chance to escape: a group of Mind Flayers for one, and a lone Githzerai monk for another. The two groups won’t work together, but either one could make for a powerful set of allies when trying to work against Al’Chaia. Al’Chaia, for her part, is equal mixture paranoia and pride, desiring to have a direct hand in everything that happens in Stardock and personally interviewing all trespassers and prisoners. She prefers to have intruders taken alive and her knights see this as such a clear way to her favor that they will go to great lengths, even endangering themselves, to capture interlopers rather than kill them.

So, this leaves us with the following story threads:

Al’Chaia wants prisoners

Ezria is a prisoner whom the Githzerai want freed

At least one general wants Al’Chaia dead

There are Mindflayer prisoners who want to be freed

Level 16 is broken into two dungeons, really: the Crystal Labyrinth and the Githyanki Stardock (which is actually located in space and is a light entry into the Spelljammer campaign setting).

Transposing a Dungeon

If playing Undermountain on its own, then the purpose of every dungeon level is to survive and make it to the next lowest level. In this light, Level 16 is an odd one, because you never actually have to go to Stardock to proceed to the next level of Undermountain. Even a group curious about Stardock can’t easily access it, they have to find a key first which requires either killing or convincing one of the more powerful combatants in the Crystal Labyrinth to give you their key. A group might be COMPELLED to seek out and explore Stardock by groups they encounter earlier or later in Undermountain, but square for square it is the easiest level of Undermountain to bypass. The other surprising thing is that all of the story I mentioned above, all of those hooks, happen mostly in Stardock and not so much in the Crystal Labyrinth.

For my purposes, there isn’t anywhere else to go: the players aren’t in Undermountain trying to get to the next level, so I had to focus them from the start on the idea of accessing the Stardock. At the same time, they had some major restrictions that delvers into Undermountain don’t, the big one being they have nowhere to run to in case they need a long rest. Oh, and because their ship is running out of oxygen, they have a limited amount of time to finish the adventure and achieve their goal.

The goal I set up as rescuing Ezria, the Githzerai monk. It made the most sense in terms of story and also felt like the most achievable mission (as killing Al’Chaia is tough, considering she fights with other Gith at her side and at least one young red dragon (possibly more, and possibly an Adult Red Dragon, too, depending on when and how you fight her). I didn’t rule out the possibility of them killing Al’Chaia, but if they did it would have to take place as a hit-and-run assassination, killing her in a few rounds before she had a chance to summon any guards and then getting the heck outta dodge before the mamma dragon showed up to take revenge. Regardless, the mission would require stealthy play, something we haven’t done too much of in our adventures.

I also broke the mission into three pieces in my mind: one was to get through the Crystal Labyrinth (reskinned for my purposes as an in-between world, a backdoor the Githzerai “tunneled” through the aether into the Githyanki fortress, but which was discovered and occupied by the Githyanki) probably proceeding with the help of one of the dissatisfied generals working under Al’Chaia. The second part was to find Ezria in Stardock and break him out of prison. The third part was to escape back to the entrance of Stardock, where Ezria would open a portal and they would get back to the Githzerai homeworld.

There was nothing I threw out or changed over much aside from focusing the dungeon flow on these elements and adhering to those three parts. Other than that, I just got ready to improvise based on whatever the players did.

How Did it Go?

After an initial added puzzle involving a malfunctioning security laser system, the players enter the Labyrinth proper. I changed the entrance point to be the far east side of the map, rather than the west, because I wanted to place them potentially closer to Urlon, one of the more benign of the disgruntled lieutenants (AKA he doesn’t attack them on sight). Overall, there is less activity on this side of the map so I felt like it gave them a better chance of finding a way through the maze to the Stardock.

They do a good job initially of sneaking around. They encounter an imprisoned Mind Flayer, Marqoux (we call him Marky for short) and talk to him for a moment to get a basic understanding of where they are and what to look out for. They are unable to free him at this time, and so they move on and come to a gigantic cavern filled with Githyanki, overseen by a more powerful Githyanki female floating naked in a crystal in the center of the room. This fight is huge. It ends up involving about a dozen Githyanki, all them leaping and misty stepping all over the place, striking by darting in and then teleporting away. The woman in the crystal compliments their attacks with magic missile, haste spells, and twice a gigantic fireball that the party manages to dodge. There are also three Crystal Golems, time and light bending monstrous statues who are less effective than they might have been (due to some poor rolling on my part) and instead make the players feel pretty epic as they dodge around +8 and +10 to hits and whittle away at the Golems until they are naught but crystaline dust in the glowing Labyrinth.

The coolest moments to come out of this come from Imoaza. At one point she strikes down a Githyanki and then uses her Warlock powers to trap his soul and raise him from the dead as a wraith who fights at her command. At another, she leaps over a Crystal Golem’s attack, splits Drosselgreymer into its two smaller sickles, lands on the golem’s chest and hangs there with one sickle while slashing away at the creature’s single diamond eye with the other until it goes down. She then backflips off of it, puts together Drosselgremyer again, and shoots eldritch blasts at two Githyanki as she lands. It’s some next level anime shit.

All this fighting eventually attracts the attentions of one of the Githyanki Knights, who strides into battle atop a young red dragon and who turns the tide in favor of the enemy, scattering the players. Imoaza hides inside a cone of ice and then sneaks away when it dissipates. Carrick flees deeper into the caverns, hiding himself in a crevice. And Milosh, who has proven to be by far the tankiest of the characters, takes on the dragon and its rider on his own for a round or two before being forced into a dead end outside of the Mind Flayer’s prison cell.

I don’t know if we’ve mentioned before that Milosh has a power cannon on his arm, similar to Mega Man? His can burn special gun-arm slots to mimic certain magic and it can fire arrows like a crossbow, powering them up with different effects as he fires them (and he’ll learn more effects as time goes on). He uses one here to launch an electrified arrow into the Githyanki knight’s chest, nearly killing her in a single blow! She survives though and with his resources running out and a pissed off red dragon staring him down, Milosh prepares to either make his final stand or use a special ranger power he has to pierce the aether and travel unseen through the ethereal plane to escape. But instead the Githyanki hails him between ragged and haggard breaths and orders him to stand down and surrender. Milosh agrees and tries to find some clever way to turn this to advantage, but instead he is clapped in magical irons that prevent the use of his abilities and a magical headband that might have been familiar to Targaryen/Daymos from long long ago, blocking out Milosh’s thoughts and blinding him. Then he is led from the arena and up to Stardock.

But what about the player? Not wanting to lose anyone from the table for an extended period, we determine that in their haste to capture Milosh, the guards did not notice a key lifting off of their belt and floating quietly towards the small portal set in the door to the Mindflayer’s prison...

Keeping Your “Head” in the Game

The other party members, Imoaza and Carrick, witness Milosh’s surrender (Imoaza was actually disguised through magic as one of the Gith warriors talking to Milosh about surrendering, though she is too afraid to be caught to try and make a big play, like escorting him herself). They see him being led away by the injured Githyanki knight and her very-healthy-looking red dragon and realizing (correctly) that there is probably nothing they can do to rescue Milosh without risking the death of at least one party member, they continue to explore the labyrinth. Carrick is not very stealthy in his plate mail, and ends up alerting ANOTHER Githyanki magic user in a crystal, but Imoaza still has her disguise, and is able to pretend she is chasing him down, which makes the other Githyanki pause in their own pursuit. In this way, they stumble into the workshop of Urlon, creator of the crystal golems and their best bet at getting into Stardock.

Urlon explains his frustrations of Al’Chai’s rule and his desire to see her dead. He says if they manage to assassinate her, then he will create a distraction and slow the hunt for them, buying them time to find their comrade and escape. The players agree, though in truth they don’t intend to take on Al’Chai: they simply want to get to Ezria and get the heck out of this mess. Urlon doesn’t know this, so he offers them a ton of help: items and a general layout of the Stardock, and he also reforges Mistweaver, which used to belong to Aldric but which Carrick is now using, into a +3 magic weapon that retains its curious ability to hold onto and reproduce certain kinds of damage. An alarm then sounds throughtout the Labyrinth and Urlon snarls: “One of the Mindflayers has escaped,” he tells them. “They’ll be swarming the Labyrinth to find and kill the bastard. Here, you’ll need to hide until this is over.” He telekinetically levitates a massive work table off the ground to reveal a trapdoor leading into a small chamber underneath the workshop, where Imoaza and Carrick squeeze into a semi-comfortable spot, getting a short rest while Urlon and his apprentice, a younger Gith male, go to join the hunt.

The Mindflayer in question is the one being played by our other player, and the alarm is because he inadvertently alerted the Gith after a botched stealth roll. He now flees through the Labyrinth, seeking a hiding spot. He eventually spots one while slinking around the edge of a large cavern: a niche high in the wall that he levitates to and stuffs himself inside like a trapdoor spider. Indeed, the metaphor is apt, for some time later (after a short rest), a young Gith rests against the wall, out of sight of his companions... and is promptly set upon by the Mindflayer, who scores a critical hit against him and drags him up into the niche to feast on his brain. The brain’s memories rush into Marky and it turns out he ate the brain of Urlon’s apprentice. He now knows that two of the adventurers he met earlier are hiding out in Urlon’s workshop and that they have the means to enter Stardock.

Imoaza and Carrick have been sharing a somewhat uncomfortable silence while they rest. Carrick has been keeping an eye on Imoaza since Aldric’s death. Some whisper of fear eats at him. He hasn’t exactly suspected her, but some Paladin intuition is cluing him in to Imoaza’s deeper evil... though, for her part, Imoaza does not believe in evil. She believes only in pragmatism, and has already justified Aldric’s murder in her mind as an act of mercy. Aldric was clearly going to die, she tells herself, and was beginning to show his weakness besides. He’d become emotional and attached. He had a family, for god’s sake. That was dangerous for the group. She was preserving the group.

When Imoaza and Carrick next see the light of the Crystal Labyrinth pouring in through the trapdoor, it is not Urlon who stares down at them, but instead the tentacled face of the Mindflayer. He sends a telepathic message into their heads: “We should help each other.”

It is not the easiest decision to make. After all, Mindflayers are not easily trusted, and they also know that the Gith will be hunting for this one and will respond to any sighting of it with extreme prejudice. Even Urlon, who seemed actually sympathetic towards Ezria and the other Githzerai, going so far as to say he would cease the hunt for them if he replaces Al’Chaia, turned cold when it came to discussing the hunt for the ‘flayer.

At the same time, what choice do they really have?

The three thus band together, leave Urlon’s workshop, and make their way to the portal to Stardock. The Mindflayer uses his access to the Gith’s brain he devoured to fool the lone Crystal Golem blocking their way to the portal to Stardock (a cool notion the player came up with). They pass the golem without incident and insert the key into the portal, and are whisked away to the second part of the adventure, which we will cover next time.

One More Thing...

Before I sign off though, notice some of the things that went on in this session. I didn’t overly prep for this session. All I did read over the dungeon and then find those story threads. To keep things moving and the game fun in the actual session, all I had to do was tie everything that happened in the actual play with one of those story threads. Thus, when the fight with the Githyanki threatened to kill one or more of the players, it was perfectly reasonable instead for the Knight to try and imprison at least one of them, avoiding a TPK and keeping the story moving. Then, because that was removing a player from our game potentially, I improvised by turning to another story point: the Mindflayers. Now my player could stay in the action (very memorably so) as a Mindflayer. How often does a player get to play a monster in a game? And last, when the players seemed beat down and at a loss for where to go next, they found Urlon, who connected them to the “revolution” plot line.

Thus, no matter how crazy things got, I could always get us out of the weeds by steering us back towards the story threads. Identify these in your own sessions and you will find you have to plan a lot less and are ready to improvise when the need arises. And it ALWAYS arises. That’s half the fun of being a Dungeon Master!

#Dungeons and Dragons #dnd 5e #Campaign Journal #AlignmentMayVary #Alignment May Vary #Githyanki #Githzerai

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w-m-blake · 5 years

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I’m very proud of the writing I’ve done this week! Mortal Truth; and You Wish You Didn’t Ask the Question came out on Sunday; You Are Dead, My Life, and I Still Breathe came out yesterday; and I just posted the fifth chapter of The Sands of Titan! This week has been very productive! To celebrate (and because I want to know what people are interested in reading next), under the cut I’m putting the titles and short synopses of fics I’ve got on my to-do list. Message me if you want more information/want to weigh in on what to write next.

If Even Death Were Grace: “we begin in the dark/and birth is the death of us,” Anne Carson, “antigonick.” Anthony Stark, son of Howard Stark, Titan of the Forge, and Maria Carbonell, Titaness of Family and the Hearth, God of Invention, finds himself like Iphigenia, a sacrifice—a pawn—to placate the furies of other deities, for transgressions he didn’t commit. Nevertheless, he holds his chin up and walks the path to Hel, averting a war and agreeing to a marriage both. Better this than the alternative. Frostiron, retelling of Persephone and Hades (at least inspired by) with Tony in the place of Persephone and Loki as Hades.

I’m Not Playing God: (All this time, I’ve been playing human.) Frostiron, ThorBruce. Tony Stark walks out of the abandoned bunker in Siberia having awakened, realizing he was a god born to walk with humans. Rewriting from about the end of Ragnarok to Endgame.

I Hear You Whisper underneath Your Breath/I Hear You Whisper You Have Nothing Left: Tony wakes from nightmares of a life he can hardly imagine, a life where he’s left behind in a freezing bunker by an enemy wearing Steve Rogers’ face. Loki tries to comfort him, to distract him from these visions, but they become harder and harder to ignore—until something has to give. Frostiron.

Desiring More Yet: Harley Keener is always hungry, always starving, always looking for the next thing to drive his teeth into. He burns through ideas, through petty lovers, through inventions and motivations and addictions, looking for something—anything—that will satisfy him. He was hungry before leaving Rose Hill, his hunger driving him to New York, and he's still hungry even now, even cared for and loved by Tony and Pepper, even in this place that was supposed to be everything that he wanted. Perhaps it was some kind of idle dream, expecting thing new place to be all that he wanted, all that he needed.It did, at least, provide more distractions from his hunger than Rose Hill, Tennessee did. Peter Parker is content with what he has. Most of the time, at least. Sure, sometimes he's a little lonely—but Aunt May, Ned, MJ, Tony, Pepper, they're all there for him, just a phone call or a text away at their farthest. Sure, sometimes he carries this guilt from not doing enough, not being enough, failing people—but he's Spiderman, and he can't afford to get too down, because he's got other people counting on him. He pulls through. Sure, sometimes, the night is so big and dark and he feels like it's so empty it's going to swallow him whole, but Karen's in his ear all night, keeping him going. He's fine. Really. Maybe he's not as fine as he wants to be. Parkner.

One-Part Sadness, Two-Parts Tragedy: a Harley Keener character study told in three parts: the first is his time in Rose Hill, the second his transition from Rose Hill to NYC with Tony and Pepper’s help, and the third NYC post-Endgame. Major character death, no happy ending.

Warfare and a Man at War: a Tony Stark character study that will be a series, beginning with Warfare and a Man at War, followed by Of Gods and Men and concluding with In Hope and Fear. Warfare and a Man at War will focus on human conflict, the struggles of human war and its effects. Of Gods and Men will be the introduction of aliens and Other threats, justified paranoia, and how one fights an outmatched battle to win. In Hope and Fear will conclude the series; it will be the end results, the conclusion, what happens to civilians once the threat is “gone.”

Brinesoaked Bodies: mermaid!au. Chapter titles: “Left Broadside onto Breaking Seas;” “The Black Hurricane;” “Worn by Winds on Every Sea;” “The Whole Uproar of the Great Sea Fell Silent;” “Serenity that Calms the Weather;” “Brinesoaked Bodies.”

Insensible Shades: a Rapunzel/Tangled au meets Orpheus/Eurydice. Harley is the stolen child of King Anthony and Queen Virginia. Peter, a thief/vigilante dubbed “Spiderman,” is on the run from the kingdom’s guards—a misunderstanding, he insists—and comes across a tower. He takes Harley to see the lanterns, initially rather unwillingly, only to accidentally drag Harley into the mess of his non-legal affairs. Peter sacrifices himself to save Harley; Harley, in turn, becomes like Orpheus and travels to Hel to trade for Peter. Parkner, angst with a happy ending.

Boyfriend Clothes: Harley Keener lives in the same dorm as his friend, Peter Parker. They aren’t the closest—Ned Leeds and Michelle Jones definitely take up more of Peter’s time than Harley does—but they share physics and engineering courses, and both work as personal interns for Tony Stark—which is kind of code for Tony pseudo-adopting the young geniuses. Harley’s best friend is Shuri. She laughs at how Harley gushes over Peter—so long as he isn’t around. In turn, Harley teases Shuri for how she stammers around MJ. They’re both disaster gays. One night, Harley sees Peter walking to/from the bathroom (or something similar in the dorm) in pajama bottoms (shorts, which barely come past the shirt he’s wearing over them) and a giant fleece button down. It reached down almost to his mid-thigh and hung off his shoulder a little, the top button undone so the shirt was open to about his mid-sternum. Harley took this as obvious evidence that Peter now had a boyfriend (maybe even staying in his room that very night) and had to get to the bottom of it; he had to at least know who Peter was with—if only for the purposes of moving on. Parkner, college!au, no powers, silly fluff & humor, shenanigans.

Untitled #1: In order to keep the Time Stone from Thanos, Stephen Strange liquefies it (the way that the Reality Stone becomes Aether) and places it inside the only one on Titan who has withstood an infinity stone before: Tony. Thanos retreats temporarily to plan again; Tony must learn to use his newly-gained magic before he returns in order to save the universe.

Untitled #2: Disturbances occurring in the magical “ley lines” or Circumstances lead to Stephen investigating the multiverse; the disturbances aren’t coming from within this universe, or perhaps even any specific universe. They seem to be coming from all universes and none of them at the same time; it’s the roots of Yggdrasil, shaking with anticipation for whatever is on its way. A horror lurks in the void between Yggdrasil’s roots, and Stephen has to locate and banish it. Frostironstrange, Ironstrange, multiple universes, alternate timelines, horror/lovecraftian horror.

Untitled #3: Space pirates. The Ironfam (Tony, Pepper, Rhodey, Bruce, Peter, Harley, Morgan) are on the run from the imperial rule of the SHIELD system upon Tony, Rhodey, and Bruce discovering the way their military employers maintain and gain power. They’re pursued by a small task-force (Steve, Natasha, Clint, and Sam; Phil is their handler) from SHIELD and the Winter Soldier, a ship from the HYDRA system (once a colony of SHIELD which revolted and is now in the throes of a Reign of Terror, French revolution style) commandeered by a (brain-washed) captain proficient at hiding his ship using comets and ice rock fields. (The Winter Soldier is captained by James Barnes, a spy sent by SHIELD to keep an eye on HYDRA, only to fall into their hands.) The Winter Soldier has commands to capture Tony, Rhodey, and Bruce for their military & scientific knowledge. Yggdrasil is a system far enough from SHIELD and HYDRA that neither know of it; it’s ruled by Odin, king of Asgard and conqueror of Jotunheimr, Vanaheimr, Alfheim, Muspell, Svartalfheim, Niflheim, and Nidavellir. Loki was taken from Jotunheimr when it was the last planet to be subdued by Asgard, being the furthest planet from the system’s star; Odin intends on making Loki the ambassador for the Jotuns, knowing that they still mourn the loss of their prince. Loki doesn’t take this well when he finds out; his mother Freyja helps him to flee. Odin sends Thor after him to capture him “on grounds of treason.” Stephen Strange flees the Sanctum Sanctorum System when his planet, Kamar-Taj, is invaded by the rapidly-spreading empire Dormammu. The Ancient One had been grooming Stephen for taking her position as the protector of Kamar-Taj once she had stepped down, but Kaecilius, a jealous pupil of hers, aided Dormammu in infiltrating Kamar-Taj’s defenses as what he saw as retribution for being looked over for the position. The Ancient One, worried for the fate of the people she protects (not necessarily governs, though almost every government on Kamar-Taj recognized her as an influential power), sent Stephen away, having one of her trusted advisers, Wong, take him from the system. Kaecilius hears of the plot to sneak Stephen off the planet before the Dormammu forces could invade, and he attempts to prevent their escape. This fails, but Stephen does gain the favor of the Cloak of Levitation in this fight. Stephen and Wong escape, bringing the Cloak. Stephen intends on someday returning to rid Kamar-Taj of Dormammu rule, but he has a lot to learn from Wong and the universe first. All of these plotlines intersect, threading through, around, and with one another. Polycule: Tony, Pepper, Rhodey, Bruce. Eventual additions of Frostironstrange and ThorBruce

Untitled #4: sick!fic; I have the list of headcanons/ideas here. Parkner. Cute & fluffy, featuring trans Peter with an unidentified but minor sickness and Harley being a good boyfriend.

Untitled #5: Stardust!au. Part One: Tony Stark leaves Wall to explore the land beyond it which beckons him, but only for a short time, with people depending on him back home. He falls for an imprisoned fae, attempts to free him, but ultimately fails and must return to Wall. Not long after, the watcher of the wall brings him a child in a wicker basket named Harley. Part Two: Eighteen years later, Harley Keener is infatuated with a girl named Victoria. He, trying to win her hand over her other suitor, E.J., promises to bring her a star that they see falling from the sky. He expects something like a precious stone; he, instead, meets Peter. They get dragged into an adventure running from star-eating warlocks, meeting lightning-catching pirates—who always make sure to dock frequently, so their captain can see his alchemist spouse—and a wild scramble for a throne that seems to have no viable heir. (Whether the fae is Loki or Stephen, I haven’t yet decided. Weigh in if you have a preference.) Parkner, ThorBruce, either Frostiron or Ironstrange.

Beyond these, I have my NaNoWriMo story (rough hands//soft hearts) and my Clint Barton Bingo card.

#my work #update #okay I'm rlly happy about the SoT chapter ?? so i wanted to celebrate #& I also rlly like talking about what I'm working on #partially because it makes me think about it so I'm more likely to get it done sooner #but I also am just rlly excited to write them #!!

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chibipika · 5 years

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Chapter 36 Retrospective

“The Lugia Chapter” is a chapter that’s been in LC almost since the beginning. In the original, it was because Lugia had appeared to Jade several times throughout the course of the story, and it was her destiny to catch it or whatever. Then sometime in 2003, I changed all the Legendary captures into humans being chosen by them instead. Again, still destiny, and also Lugia was an entirely different character back then. I might post that version someday, just know that it looks nothing at all like the current version.

Then, somehow, in 2006, I came up with Jade and Lugia’s current dynamic, with their first meeting resulting in capture/torture, and Lugia’s personality becoming sharp-tongued and irritable. I’m not really sure how I came up with it—it seems to have sprung fully formed from the aether. It might have been because that was around the time I was trying to think of ways to deconstruct the usual Chosen One tropes, (as the chapter itself bears a lot of hallmarks of that.) I’m not sure if I wrote the Lugia chapter before or after I wrote the attack on Viridian in that version of the fic. If it was after, that would technically make this the 2007 version of the Lugia chapter? Well, either way, the ideas came together in 2006. That would make this part of Revision 9.

This version is strikingly similar to the final version that was eventually rewritten for NaNo 2015, (and published in 2019). The writing is primitive, and several plot elements are outdated, but the general feel of it is spot-on, and a lot of dialogue actually made it into the final version.

[Oh yeah, should go without saying, but SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 36.]

<I’m afraid you’re not going down to the stadium,> a voice within my mind said.

I stopped suddenly upon hearing those words, wondering if I had just imagined them. Searching for the source, I turned to see a small, pale rose feline hovering in the middle of my room, her long tail swirling around in the air.

“Mew,” I gasped, both surprised and relieved. “What are you doing here? And what did you mean by that?”

<You’re not going down to the stadium,> she repeated solemnly. <At least, not right now...>

A shiver ran down my spine when I heard her say that. She kept staring downward, refusing to look me in the eye. What was going on?

“Mew...?” I said cautiously, feeling both puzzled and apprehensive.

Finally the cat-like creature lifted her head and gazed long and hard at me with her large, bright sapphire eyes. She looked concerned, with a shadow of guilt mixed into her expression.

“What is it, is there something going on with the Legendaries? Why’d you come to me and not Ajia?” I asked, my heart beating faster from growing anxiety. Why was she acting like this?

<Your test...> Mew spoke so faintly that I could barely make it out.

“My...test...?” I uttered blankly.

Since this chapter was sort of written out of thin air, without any of the preceding chapters leading up to it, the intro to this scene is, as expected, pretty random and abrupt. I was fully expecting to change all of this once I had a better idea of the lead-up events. Note is that Jade is still at Indigo, and the Moltres attack hasn’t happened yet.

<The time has come,> she concluded, raising a paw and glowing with a blue aura. Suddenly, my entire body was enveloped within the same color of light.

“Mew!” I exclaimed as I was lifted off the floor psychically. A flash of light suddenly filled the room, blocking out my vision, and before I could say anything, she was gone.

“MEW!!!” I shouted, but it was too late. The glow vanished and I fell to the floor.

It took me a few seconds to realize that I had fallen not onto the carpeted floor of my room, but onto a hard rock surface. At first I couldn’t see anything, but that was only because there wasn’t much to see. It looked like I was inside a cave of some sort, enclosed on all sides by jagged rock walls and partially filled with water on one end. I rubbed my arms as my senses returned and I felt how incredibly cold it was in the chamber.

“Mew teleported me…” I whispered to myself. “…but where to?” I stood to my feet and glanced around, seeing no possible exit. The cavern was dimly lit, but the light didn’t seem to be coming from any visible source. It occurred to me that the water probably flowed in here from the outside, but I had no idea how deep it went, and I didn’t have any Pokémon that could swim long distances.

“I’m trapped,” I muttered in disbelief. “She’s trapped me here alone with no way out...”

And then a voice resounded in reply, <I wouldn’t say that you’re alone.>

It felt as though my entire body went numb, but not from the cold. The voice was telepathic, but I could easily tell that it most definitely was not from Mew. It was chillingly bitter, with a domineering edge to it that stuck within my head. It was the voice that haunted all my nightmares since that day—one that I had hoped to never hear again.

In the darkest corner of the cave, two eyes, radiating blue, peered out of the shadows with an icy stare that seemed to bore right through me. The glow slightly illuminated the creature’s face, revealing a sleek avian head with a mouth curled into a smirk.

<Welcome, human. Are you ready to face the consequences of that day so long ago? >

Man, though, despite being written in 2006/07 this is pretty-spot on. I can see why I didn’t change much.

My breathing was shallow and my heart was pounding. I couldn’t move; it was like I was frozen on the spot, barely even able to think.

Lugia called me here to kill me.

There was no other explanation. But why now? Why after so long? This couldn’t be happening, there was no way.

I clenched my fists, swallowing hard. It was just like last time. This wasn’t like the Rocket conflicts, with a struggle for survival. There was nothing I could do; I might as well have already been dead. But…Mew…why…?

Man, you can just tell I was having so much fun dunking on Chosen One clichés. Summoned by a Legendary? Grand, awe-inspiring, and important? Nope! Friggin’ terrifying!

Lugia raised an eyebrow. <No response? You’re quite pitiful, always letting fear control you.>

I bristled. Had to do something, anything. I clutched at a Poké Ball and held it up, my arm shaking. I’d battle. Yeah, that was it. I’d battle, and I’d win, and then we’d find some way out. Any way out. We had to. I was only vaguely aware of how unrealistic that plan was, but still threw the ball forward, releasing Chibi in a flash of black.

I glared at the Legendary. Chibi turned toward me with a stunned and disbelieving expression.

“*Jade, what’s going on? Where the hell are we, and,”—he glanced at Lugia—“why is…don’t tell me you’re…*”

“It doesn’t matter, just use Thunderbolt, hurry!” My voice felt dry and hollow.

“*What?*” he asked, clearly confused. All of the old Rocket situations had gotten him used to having to react immediately, even when released in odd situations, but this was too much.

“I said, use Thunderbolt,” I demanded.

He gave me an incredulous glare. “*No. Tell—me—what—is—going—on.*”

Lugia smirked tauntingly. <Even the half-legend won’t obey you. Is he tired of keeping you alive?>

Chibi whirled around to face her, strings of lightning leaping off his fur involuntarily. Some of his electricity hit Lugia, who recoiled slightly, eyes narrowed. <Oh…touchy, are we?>

The scene breaks here, as I couldn’t really figure out where I was going with the whole Chibi bit, so I just skipped to writing the next part. I do like the idea of Jade instinctively going for a battle (which is why I kept it for the final one), but actually sitting down to write the battle always bored me to tears (a pretty sure sign that it needed to be cut).

“Well, what is it?” I demanded brashly, angered at how she was toying with me. “You had Mew call me down here in order to get revenge, right? Are you gonna taunt me some more or just kill me outright since it didn’t work last time?”

For a while, she gave no sign that she had heard me, and I kept waiting for her to say something and break the unnerving silence that filled the chamber.

<Are you under the impression,> Lugia began slowly and menacingly, <that I tried and yet failed to kill you on that day?>

You’ll notice that Lugia is female in this version. All the Legendaries had genders. It wasn’t until 2015 that I finally made them properly genderless. At the time, I was sure I was never going to get used to it, and I accidentally used the wrong pronouns constantly. But now? It’s finally the other way around. Going back and seeing female pronouns for Lugia is like, “wat, ew, stop.” Then again, that’s kinda how these things go irl, isn’t it?

But yes, please don’t let this impact your view of Lugia now, as Revision 12 Lugia is quite thoroughly “wtf is a gender.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond, as she had sounded almost offended by my words. Had Ajia been right? Had Lugia really spared me?

“I…I didn’t think—” I started.

“I know that!” I exclaimed, frustrated at how she flaunted that fact. It was like talking to someone who had a knife to your throat. “And after today, what does it matter?!” I was trembling despite trying to seem unmoved by my complete lack of control over the situation.

With a very reserved tone of voice, the dragon-bird replied, <If you must know, I had Mew call you here today because I wished to speak with you in private.>

I relaxed slightly upon hearing that, but still had to wonder why Mew had looked so regretful about sending me here.

<Still, I can’t help but notice...you speak of that day as though it would have been my fault. As if to make me feel guilty for the situation. Do you see what I did as unjustified?>

Unjustified? Had I deserved it? My immediate thought

Another bit where I got stuck, went “uhhh, I don’t know where this is going,” and then skipped ahead to the next part.

“What events?” I asked.

The dragon-bird raised an eyebrow, as though surprised at my ignorance. <I was told you had read the words inscribed upon the shrine of Midnight Island. Or did they slip your mind?>

“What, you mean that thing with the Legendaries allying themselves with eight humans? What’s that got to do with this?”

Oh right, there were eight chosen before Revision 12. I actually made this mistake a couple times in the current Serebii thread until I finally got used to the idea that there were only seven.

With eyes slightly narrowed, Lugia replied, <Ignorance, human. You don’t realize the magnitude of what will happen in mere months. This is beyond prophecies now…we have seen it with our eyes, the actions of the so-called Team Rocket. Their strides toward power have paved the way for things to come. Even now, it is apparent… The eight would cause themselves to be linked with the legends by connecting themselves with those fulfilling them. And so at the same time, linked with each other.>

I really, really loved making Lugia say “ignorance, human” in the 2007 version. Although it is important to note that modern day Lugia still doesn’t ever refer to Jade by name. This is intentional.

It took me several seconds to understand what she was implying. Team Rocket’s Legendary captures were fulfilling the legends…which meant that none of the eight Chosen were predestined. It had seemed like that from the way Ajia described how she had become Mew’s Chosen, but I always figured that the legends had to involve some complex destiny.

But why was she telling me this?

Unless…

I stared long and hard at her, unwilling to believe it…it couldn’t be possible. It couldn’t be…

“So…so you’re saying…” I swallowed hard and continued, “that…I’m Chosen? Even after what I did?”

<Perhaps more so because of what you did, and other things among that. You have connected yourself with the Legendaries as few others of that rebellion have,> the dragon-bird answered.

I really like this bit, which is why it made it into the rewrite almost unscathed. I love that the big chosen reveal is treated as something horrifying and terrible rather than “aww yeah, I was ~Chosen by a Legendary.~”

“Because of it? Why in the…how—” I struggled, overwhelmed at the significance of what I had just been told.

Lugia closed her eyes in frustration and said, <Let me explain this as simply as I can. I understand that you have read the Midnight Island legend.>

“Yeah, and the Dark Crystal legend,” I added.

She paused slightly when I said that, but then overlooked it. <Then you know that the Midnight legend tells of the Eight Guardians and the Crystal legend is just that—about the trio of crystals. You are an interloper. You have no inherent significance in the legends whatsoever, yet your interference in the matters concerning the balance of power between human and Legendary as well as the fact that you know about the legends has forced you to become a part of them. Fate is nothing; action is everything. The Eight Guardians of the Order of Legends are obligated to seek out those interlopers deemed to have the strongest connection to the legends and the conflict at hand.

I can’t believe the “Fate is nothing; action is everything” dates back to this. What started out as just a fun way to dunk on Chosen One clichés turned into one of the core themes of the entire fic.

I didn’t have to be told who that was referring to.

oh no spoilers (…not really, pretty much everyone has guessed that’s what he’s going for.)

<No one truly knows what the new age shall bring, or how this conflict shall be resolved. One thing is for certain—once the alliance has served its purpose, it shall be as though it never was, and the turmoil of the Revolution and the legacy of the Crystals shall reign supreme,> Lugia concluded solemnly.

“Wait, wait…you’re saying this alliance doesn’t even matter that much?” I asked incredulously. “All it’ll do is just bide time in this stupid Team Rocket conflict until the real trouble begins?”

I should point out here that while this is still true, it has not come up in the current version. (Notice that Lugia didn’t mention the Orb or any the writings around it at all in the current version.)

“Do you Legendaries, like, spend all your time memorizing the legends and then interpreting them?” I asked, my tone slightly annoyed and slightly sarcastic.

I really loved this quip of Jade’s back when I wrote it. :V

Lugia was unimpressed with my insolent remark, and I could tell immediately that I had crossed the line. <Let me tell you something, human. The words of your little half-legend were not what swayed my decision that day. Grabbed my attention, yes, but you are alive right now because you fit this role. It is an honor. Were it not for our constant ‘interpretation’ of the legends…> here she paused, unsure of how to continue. Finally she sighed and glanced down. I thought I’d never see a Legendary show any sign of weakness, at least not before a human.

Wait, what? At first, I couldn’t figure out what she meant, but then I realized it. Neither side could survive without the other. Then a rather stupid grin crossed my face as I said, “You Legendaries need help? From humans?”

This line too. :P

It really was quite obvious that they did, seeing as many more of them would have been captured were it not for The Rebellion—yet another fact that made Stalker’s plans rather paradoxical. Lugia scowled, more insulted by the way I had said it than by the fact that it was true. I let the moment of immaturity drop and said, “Look, I’m honored, I really am, but…”—I sighed—“I told myself that I wouldn’t have anything more to do with Team Rocket. I’m not even on the Resistance…why not choose someone who is?”

Lugia didn’t answer, but rather shifted her wings and gazed at me peculiarly. I continued, “I’m tired of risking both my life and the lives of my friends.”

<Either way, you do realize of course that you’re connected to the Team Rocket matter whether you like it or not. This is simply to determine whether you shall be a part of the deeper legendary matter at hand,> Lugia explained simply.

I really didn’t want to reply, seeing as the whole point of my training for the past year had been as a sort of escape from the Rocket mess…while the members of the Resistance continued to keep the team in check. I leaned against the rough cave wall and stared downward, unsure of what to do.

I really was sure that the Resistance was out and about doing important things, despite having no idea how. The decision to have the Resistance be disbanded in the current version was a pretty spur-of-the-moment one fueled by the realization that I really just didn’t know what I was doing with them. The fic’s a lot better off for it.

I glanced over my shoulder and looked the seabird in the eye for quite a while, reflecting upon everything she had told me. I felt as though pure guilt would end up winning me over—guilt that I was hiding from a struggle over the control of the planet, one that many of my friends had an active role in. The last thought to occur to me, however, was what had gone through my mind that day when I had used the Master Ball cannon on Lugia: the bizarre fascination with Legendaries combined with the urge to wield that incredible power.

This is such a weird sentiment. It really doesn’t fit Jade’s current characterization at all.

Yeah, that was it…

“I’ll do it,” I said slowly after quite a while, my voice shaking.

Lugia nodded slowly with an odd relief in her eyes, looking genuinely glad that I had agreed. She motioned to me to step forward, and I did. Outstretching a wing, the avian dragon touched a feather to my palm and closed her eyes in concentration. An aura began to glow around her wing, slowly brightening and focusing itself around my hand.

Suddenly, a sharp jolt of pain shot through my arm. I recoiled back and gripped my wrist, not expecting that. I could see that my hand was still glowing, however, and slowly, the light formed into a symbol—an outline of Lugia’s head surrounded by rolling waves. I stared at the inscription, transfixed with awe.

I always was unsatisfied with how understated this was. This was supposed to be a major turning point for the fic, and it was over in two sentences with a tiny jolt of pain. NaNo 2015 was when I got the idea to expand this to be the culmination of all the pain and trauma that Jade has endured so far.

<You are marked,> Lugia said. <With you bearing my seal, the two of us, Legend and human, are linked. With this privilege comes much responsibility. You will find that we can communicate now, regardless of distance. Likewise, if you are in grave danger, you may summon me to aid you, if and only if you have done everything in your power to ensure that doing so will not expose us. But you must never call me somewhere simply for the sake of it…the consequences of such will be severe,> she added, narrowing her eyes.

I’m not sure why that last bit was necessary. I would think that if you’re trusting a human enough to be your partner, it would go without saying that they’re not going to summon you for a random battle or whatever.

Notice I said “summon.” In old LC canon, the chosen were able to summon their patrons to their side. This is outdated. While Mew can teleport to Ajia’s side, even if it’s somewhere she hasn’t been previously, that’s just because she could already teleport anyway.

I winced slightly, remembering the Psychic attack that I had endured before. Still, I nodded understandingly just as I had for her other rules.

<Most importantly of all, however…you cannot tell anyone about this. The Order’s rules are yours to follow as well. Do not betray the pact,> Lugia reinforced threateningly.

Unable to come up with any other manner of response, I nodded again. But then something occurred to me and I suddenly asked, “What about Ajia? Can I tell her?”

Lugia paused long and hard, as though unsure of what to say. After contemplating her answer, she finally replied, <I…suppose… The Chosen are supposed to remain a secret, even from the others, until the time is right, but…as you already know she is Chosen, it couldn’t hurt…>

This is silly. Why should the chosen be a secret from each other. Aren’t they supposed to help each other? And what does “the time is right” even mean.

I brightened up slightly upon hearing that—at least I wouldn’t have to keep it all to myself. “So then the fact that I knew about her and Mew had to have played a part in why you picked me, right?”

Lugia glanced away slightly, as though she had been hoping I wouldn’t say that. <Yes, yes it did… When Mew told me that you not only knew her Chosen, but also knew everything about the legends concerning them, I knew that there was no going back.>

“No…going back?” I echoed. “Why?”

She didn’t make eye contact and simply said, <Anyone with that much knowledge would be a threat. You would either have to join us of your own will, or die. If you had decided against becoming Chosen, I would have had to kill you.>

I wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to that. But finally I knew why Mew had looked so worried when she had sent me here. She couldn’t say anything about it without my decision becoming forced.

Another detail that is surprisingly on point with the current version. The chosen pact requiring hard consent, where any guilting or pressuring would render that consent void, was pretty important, even back then.

Lugia nodded, knowing what I was thinking. <Mew was afraid that you would decline, given your past refusal to further involve yourself in the Team Rocket conflict.> She then turned toward the ceiling and let out a high-pitched cry in Pokéspeech. “*Mew! It is finished!*”

I knew that the Legendary communication had a very long range, and sure enough, there was an immediate flash of light as Mew teleported into the cavern. The cat-like Pokémon glanced around frantically, her eyes falling on me.

<She has agreed?> Mew questioned, looking both surprised and relieved.

<The pact is complete...she is marked with my seal,> Lugia answered with a reserved tone. But then the slightest trace of a grin crossed her face—similar to Mewtwo’s in that it looked forced, and yet oddly fitting just the same.

Mew let out a great sigh of relief. <I honestly wasn’t sure if sending you here would be condemning you to death, but…we really had no choice.>

That didn’t really make me feel better about the whole situation, but as the danger had passed, I didn’t care. I only nodded understandingly. She was right…I hadn’t wanted to agree, but hadn’t known that my life rested on that decision, so it was still of my own will.

All because of that capture… What had I gotten myself into?

Mew motioned to me and said, <I’ll take you back to your room now.>

“Oh, right…thanks…” I said, walking over. I took one last glance around the cavern before asking Lugia, “Where is this, anyway?”

<Underneath the Whirl Islands in Johto,> Lugia replied. <I suppose it could be considered my home.>

Mew raised a paw and the two of us glowed blue. The last thing I saw was everything dissolving, and then a bright flash of light. Suddenly, we were back in the stadium hotel room. The catlike Legendary nodded to me and then disappeared once more.

Aaaand, that’s it! The chapter went on a bit after that, but it gets into stuff that’ll come up in Chapter 37, so I’ll cut it here.

#LC #writing #pokemon fanfiction

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pokemon-legends-and-legacies · 5 years

Note

What's the story behind Hua and Lillie's revived(?) child, and the other adopted one?

Hau and Lillie have a pretty complicated storyline in mine regarding their children, so I’ll explain it as best and simply as I can.

After they get married, Lillie’s dream is to have a child with Hau. Specifically, she wants to be the one to get pregnant with said child. However, the two end up having many difficulties with this. Lillie struggles to carry a child to term, suffering multiple miscarriages. Despite going to multiple doctors, they can’t seem to find anything that might be the underlying cause behind Lillie’s fertility issues, so she keeps trying in the hopes of being able to have the child she’s dreamed of. It’s difficult for both her and Hau, but her husband is nothing but supportive during this rough time period. Eventually, Lillie is able to carry a child past 6 months and she and Hau are tentatively hoping that this will be the one. Sadly, their son, who Lillie names Echter, is born very prematurely and only survives for 5 days after his birth. After losing Echter, Lillie comes to the conclusion that, for whatever reason, she just can’t have a healthy child and she and Hau decide to take a break before deciding how they want to move forward (be it adoption or Hau being the one to get pregnant, as they do still want children.)

About four months following Echter’s death, Selene, Gladion, Hau, and Lillie, along with some other members of the new Alola League, hear about an underground lab run by rogue former Aether scientists and make it their mission to apprehend them. When they raid the lab, they discover that these scientists had been conducting experiments on Ultra Wormholes using a young boy they had as a test subject. This boy has the amazing ability to open and close Ultra Wormholes with just his mind, hence why the scientists had adopted him when they heard rumors of his abilities from his foster family. In lieu of his real name, and in order to not simply call him by a subject number, many of the scientists in charge of raising him and studying his abilities started calling him Weiss, due to his pale coloring. With nowhere to go now that his only home had been dismantled, Hau and Lillie realized this might be a sign. Here was a child in need of a good home and loving parents, and here they were wanting a child so desperately. Thus, Hau and Lillie end up adopting their half-alien psychic son, Weiss.

About five years after they adopt Weiss, Hau and Lillie decide to have another child, but knowing Lillie’s previous fertility issues, this time Hau is the one trying to get pregnant. They are able to have a daughter, Hina, together and they adore her dearly (as does her big brother Weiss.) Then, another five years after Hina’s birth, and unbeknownst to Hau and Lillie, a malevolent dark wizard who has plans to use magic to control Ultra Beasts to take over Alola decides to conjure himself an assistant/familiar. As a necromancer, this evil mage decides to find a useful soul to revive. It just so happens he decides that the lingering spirit of a baby mage (note that Lillie is a light mage) he discovers is the best option for him. Using his magic, the evil wizard (who… doesn’t have a name yet), creates a sort of homunculus that resembles what the spirit would have looked like had he grown up. As Echter would have been 10, he is first revived with the appearance of a ten year old, though his artificial body does age. Using magic, the evil wizard implants his new servant with the knowledge he needs and sets him to work as his assistant. Revived!Echter has no memories from before his revival, of course, and though the evil wizard is often cruel and neglectful towards him, he knows no other life…. that is until three years later when he meets Primrose and her friends. Thus begins the little ‘side-plot’ that many of my Alola fankids are involved in.

#answer #Hau #Lillie #SnowLilyShipping #Echter #Weiss #Hina #Selene #Gladion #Primrose #yes this is inspired by Stranger Things how could you tell? both Weiss' story and Echter's plotline are inspired by that show tbh #Anonymous #miscarriage

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cohentoplaywithmagic · 5 years

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gotta lash out | kitty/tina

WHO→ Tina Cohen-Chang and Kitty Wilde WHERE→ Undique Stadium WHEN→ Monday 21st January, Daytime WHAT→ The two girls have a lot of tension built from their long months apart. WARNING→ Violence.Religion, Homophobia Slurrs. Repressed Sexuality.

After Tina got changed Kitty dragged her to the training room at Undique. She ignored the shrieky secretary and kicked out the witches who were in the room she wanted to be. They looked mad but they could come for Kitty later. They didn't though and Kitty knew why, because she was that bitch. She finally let go of Tina's wrist and flung the other girl into the empty space. "You better not have become rusty." She glared at Tina, angry for so many reasons. "Who knows since you've been hiding out in that cesspool with that mongrel." Kitty was talking smack about Santana. She got into her position and pulled out her cross. Lord, I'm ready.

Surprise, surprise Kitty as annoyed at Tina but like really? Did Wilde even think about the reason she had been in a barricade? She had summoned Tina to a training room and of course, they were going to fight, they were always going to fight.Tina quickly summons herself up something appropriate to wear to fight. "Happy new year to you too Wilde," Tina rolls her eyes, anger and frustration building at the sight of her. "Please I'm just as good," she lies but has to sound confident as she could. "Please, like you would actually know what was going on." She draws her phone ready to summon something.

Kitty wrinkled her nose at Tina. 'Why is she saying Happy New Year to me? What does she want from me?' Ever since the weird gifts at Christmas, Kitty was on edge. Not only her but her club mates were brattier than usual too. Everyone was just getting on her nerves, Trashy the most. "Are you looking down on me?" Kitty snapped and held her head up high. "Don't you know who you're speaking to? I'm bloodline royalty, baby." Heavenly Father, I'm but your humble servant, lend me your power. Fill your holy vessel with your magnificence!

@kitty: 1d7-1 = (5)-1 = 4

@Tina: 1d7+1 = (5)+1 = 6

There was something different about Kitty, had she always been this angry and high and mighty? Something was certainly off about her. "What?" She scoffs, "You are not bloodline royalty Wilde!" Tina does blush a little at being called baby, but it was meant in a boastful sense," Trust me the only time I'm gonna look down on you, is when you are beneath me....baby." She throws the nickname back at her. Spark back Tina calls upon little sparks, to create a little glow on her arm that reflects Wilde's attack in hopes to push it back onto her.

@tina: 1d7+1 = (2)+1 = 3

@kitty: 1d7-1 = (4)-1 = 3

Kitty's spell didn't full connect. How dare those words leave Tina's lips. This is why everything still needed Kitty's intervention. She would never get respect unless she forced respect. No one was going to give it to her without her fighting for it. "Bitch, I am." Kitty believed in those words and snarled at Tina's reply. How impetuous. She was hit by Tina's reflection attack and all Kitty could think of was the stupid message Santana Lopez sent her. The seemingly nice guy message Blaine Anderson sent her. Sister Quinn and Brother Hunter's absent mother and father routines. Who were they to make themselves be Kitty's supervisor?"You and Baby Anderson plotted to give me those stupid gifts huh?" She yelled, getting red in the face. "Do you think this is funny? That you're going to be kicked out of the school, and you're going to have to leave? That we're all going to get freaking killed by monsters? That you haven't prayed hard enough to God and He's already chosen your path for you?" Kitty's eyes were wild as she whispered to herself. "Oh my god, you're my freaking serpent. You are, aren't you." Kitty's dreams were making sense now. This girl was Satan trying to play with her moment of weakness. Alena, get out here now. Kitty called Alena from the Aether and looked at Tina with a crazy look. "I won't let you defeat me, Santana's I mean Satan's cherub." She had been working on her magic by herself and knew God had chosen her for a reason. Soul armament. Alena was swallowed up in a beam of white blue light and Kitty brandished her shiny glaive.

Tina watches as the attack dissolves far to quickly, maybe she had been out of practice for quite a while now. Maybe she could give Kitty that one. She raises her eyebrows in confusion as she begins going on about something but Tina does not interject not even for a moment because what she could be saying would have an answer. "First bitch you are not," Tina again repeats the name because it is only fair," Blaine and I plotted nothing, we're been busy talking other thing. I would never give you a gift unless it was something that I meant. Unlike you, I'm not made of money," Tina confesses. She bites down on her lips as Wilde gives her a few home truths that have been playing in her head," It's not funny, I know it is not funny and I'm not leaving anytime soon, no freaking way.It's not going to happen...I won't let it happen." Then she spoke about death and something that drifted into God and being her serpent, "I choose my own path, Wilde, no one else." Frustration grows with her,"Stop trying to find a blame for whatever it is going on with you. You have no one to blame but yourself." Though her eyes widen as she summons her soul armament, Kitty, Kitty was that powerful already. She swallows a little in her dry throat. Okay this was both good and bad. Two could play that game 🔮⚡️⚔️⚡️🔮, as she summons a pixilated sword in her own hand. Close combat would be interesting.

tina: 1d7+1 Sword HP = (3)+1 = 4

Kitty: 1d7 + 1d10 = (7)+(2) = 9

"Of course you'd say that," Kitty spat and swung her icy glaive around in a circle around her. "Talking other things like selling witches out to devils and demons. That's who I should go after next, those unholy fiends." Kitty was looking around her. Evil was everywhere. "Tell me then, what is your record currently? What is it?" Kitty armed her glaive and pointed the tip right at Tina's chin. "No, the Heavenly Father would never lead me wrong. So it has to be you. You wear those...just to mess with my head, don't you? You think it's funny to watch me sweat." Kitty's breathing came up shallow when the sharp point of the glaive poked up into Tina's bottom lip. Not enough to pierce the skin to draw blood. But Tina moved. Kitty saw the pixel sword and tensed up, drawing the glaive back. "But not as fun as it is watching you sweat in fear!" Heavenly Father, I'm but your humble servant, lend me your power. Fill your holy vessel with your magnificence! She swung her glaive right down on Tina's sword. Sparks and pixels jumped off when their blades hit.

Her glaive is pointed under Tina's chin as Kitty begins to talk about her next target trying to make it sound like another excuse to defend 'witches'. "You only mean Bloodlines," Tina spatters back, careful with it tucked under her lip. Her heart drums against her chest as her hands begin to become a little more clammy. "Two strikes- one because of you. It's always you. You are the one who keeps messing with my head. It's you," Tina's voice cries but she creates some distance, clinging tighter to the pixilated swords. Sweat is trickling down her face, as with one from Wilde and her sword dissolves into pixels, grazing her every so slightly.

Kitty knew something was up. Tina said she had done something but Kitty couldn't remember. "New Age mind tricks? I should have known, you untrustworthy magic stealers." Kitty pushed back at Tina with the blunt end of her weapon and asked, "How have I messed with your head?! Was I in your dreams? Stop dreaming about me, lesbo!" Kitty pushed Tina with every word she said. Tina making distance didn't work. Kitty's glaive was long enough to reach and the hooked curve on the blade caught onto Tina's clothes. "Summon something else why don't you. Summon everyone else but me like you always do." Kitty challenged Tina.

"I would never do that Kitty," Tina told her even though coded deep in her phone was the mind scramble spell she could use, but aether she never dares to touch magic like that. Stumbling back at the push from Kitty's weapon,"You just do, you always get under my skin," ...and clothes,"Trust me I would if I could, I don't want you there." Wilde was pushing her limits 🔮⚡️⚔️♞⚔️⚡️🔮 she summons one of her knights to her left. "What...what do you mean everyone else but you?" Tina's voice shifts needing to know the answer.

Tina: 1d7+1 Knight HP = (1)+1 = 2

Kitty: 1d7 + 1d10 = (2)+(7) = 9

Kitty narrowed her eyes at the summoned knight which appears in front of Tina. 'Oh how cute another stupid white knight in my way.' Kitty thought and gripped her weapon tighter. She could feel Alena in her head trying to get her to calm down. 'Shut up, Alena! Whose side are you on!' Kitty couldn't even trust Alena anymore. "I can't trust you, I can't trust anyone. No one says what they're going to do like that. You're a liar. Now repent!" She spun her glaive around, cutting through the summon. "Don't play dumb. I know you're talking with your oh so cute Blainey Waney Plainey and that bitch Santan...why do we have this socius pactum?"

Wilde cuts through her summon with such ease as dissolves into binary code. Kitty was ruthless with a pissed off attitude none the less. Something cut through Tina too with Kitty's words too. "You can trust me. I want you to trust me," Tina means it with sincerity, "I won't lie," she does lie about that. "Are you....are you jealous, Kitty?" Tina blinks thinking she has put the pieces together, "Because we are good together...and I need you like you need me." Thunder, Tina casts in hopes to shock the girl enough to get her to stop this lashing out.

Tina: 1d7+1 = (3)+1 = 4

Kitty: 1d7-1 + 1d10 = (6)-1+(5) = 10

Kitty let out a laugh. "Jealous? Me? Of what? You? No?" Kitty was scanning around, seeing if there were any one watching them who was going to point and laugh at Kitty. "Is this a set up?" Kitty asked when Tina cast her spell. Kitty was lucky or under the watch of God since she lifted up her glaive and sliced the spell into two. Tina's spell dissolved. "So this is a set up...you're trying to get me to lose my guard so you can out me, so you can livestream it and make me look bad. You never cared about this team, only I did. I was the idiot who thought we could be something fierce together!"

Tina is concerned with the paranoia that Kitty seems to have, thinking that this was some kinda livestream and set up. Se tup for what exactly. She gets drops her phone to the floor, showing her it was off. " Kitty....this isn't a set up." She speaks softly. Magic seems to be failing her so may as well stick to common ways. Tina steps forward, placing her hands on Wilde's shoulders, slightly fearful what the girl was going to do to her still she began to shake her a little. "Stop it, stop it now! I care about this team more than you even know. I care about you a lot." Tina looks her straight (lol) in the eyes, "You are not an idiot you are just acting like one . You and I are something, just not whatever this is right now." She held a stance a little more strong, readying to distance herself if the girl was to lash out in her angered furry.

Kitty shook her head. "Yes, it's a set up, you all want me to fail and make an idiot of myself, I know you, you and everyone else." She was whispering like a madwoman. Tina was getting closer to her. Kitty raised her glaive to warn Tina not to get any closer. However she missed the timing or maybe she let Tina get the upper hand. Or in this case her shoulders. When Tina shook her, Kitty felt strangely back in her own body. "What is this right now?" Kitty asked, and blushed when she saw Tina so close. "Cheese and rice, wh-what are you doing," Kitty gently nudged off Tina's hands, which she saw were battered because of their mini fight. She didn't mean to hit Tina so hard. Alena's voice finally reached her. 'Kitty, are you ok? I tried to communicate with you but your thoughts blocked me out...I'm here for you, you're not alone.' Kitty felt her breath rush out of her heavy body. "So there's no one here but us?" Kitty asked and lowered her glaive. She sighed and let go of the staff. Alena, come back. The glaive grew into a beam of light and turned into bubbles. Inside one was Alena. Kitty put her hands hovering over Tina's. Heavenly Father, I'm but your humble servant, lend me your power. Fill your holy vessel with your magnificence, heal the wounded with your Grace. Her hands glowed as she healed Tina. She didn't know what came over her. Before Tina touched her, all Kitty could hear were the whispers of the people she knew made fun of her. But Tina wasn't one of them, that's what the girl said. Could Kitty trust that.

Kitty: 2d41 = (23+37) = 60

Tina hates that Kitty thinks this way that everyone thinks that she was an idiot. How could anyone say that with the changes that she made in her short time being here? She kept shaking her and shaking but there seemed to be something that shifted with Kitty, almost as if she had not known what had been going on. Was she, was she under a spell? Tina, this time catches the flushness in Kitty's cheeks but does not bring it back. She steps away when being pushed,"There is only us. You and me." Tina breaths gently smile with relief. There was a softness that same with her when she healed her. Tina felt all the pains and aches ease from her body, "Thank you, Kitty." She wants to ask her what happened, maybe even hug her quick but she reframed looking at her, at least things were back to their twisted normal.

Kitty couldn't. She pulled her hands away and shook her head. "If you ever have a message for me from...that bitch, don't tell me. You talk to me for you, got that memorized? Take care of yourself, Trashy." Kitty looked back over her shoulder once and ditched the New Age witch. There were so many things going on in her head and Tina Cohen-Chang was one of them

#social:kitty #gotta lash out #para:gotta lash out #nyadatraining

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starcunning · 5 years

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Praxis inordinata

Happy Friday! Today I will be speedrunning the Eighth Umbral Calamity*. Stay tuned for part two.

*Eighth Umbral Calamity not guaranteed but strongly indicated.

[M/F] [WOL* (Kallisti)/Nabriales][The plot actually arrived? There’s no porn in this; there’s just plot.][Blood CW][Mild gore][Just a spectacularly bad idea all around][*technically Lensha Hathaar is the WOL; Kallie is one of her Echo-blessed companions][ARR 2.56][Erebidae][3.4k words]

Riol was a cheater. It had taken her some time to notice, but he won too often. The stakes were low enough that she had to assume it was merely ingrained habit—he had no obvious tells, which only cemented this perception. Kallisti resolved to mention it to Moenbryda only if it continued to agitate her—there was no sense in risking her tearing her stitches over what was meant to be a friendly game.

It had been a poor distraction up until that revelation; even afterward part of Kallisti seethed with resentment that her presence had not been requested at the Sultana’s banquet. Lensha Ravenfeller was a more palatable morsel, and had looked so in her gown of ivory when she had left with the others on wings of aether.

Kallisti thought of Ul’dah and she was there, in the Fragrant Chamber, though the scent of spice and the sound of gentle music she had anticipated were absent. The place was an abattoir, stinking of blood, and she heard steel strike steel and screams of fright. She felt the fear welling in her own throat, the terrible surety that the Sultana was dead and the Bull’s retribution was merciless—one of his fellow members of the Syndicate had paid a blood price for his grief already. Her gaze fixed at last upon the Highlander and she saw, impossibly, that his foe was Ilberd Feare.

The realization jerked Kallisti out of her Echo-blessed vision. She had fallen from her perch to land on the stone floor, and gazed up at Moenbryda’s ceiling. A figure loomed over her—Daye, she recalled after a moment—but rather than offer her a hand up, he pointed his spear at her throat.

Kallisti lifted her head to glance around the room. In the instant before the butt of his lance struck her forehead, knocking her skull against the stone, she noted the presence of two other Crystal Braves. One was doing his best to menace Moenbryda, though she had a yalm of height on him and a hellacious tongue undulled by her injuries. The other was patting Riol down for weapons; a half-dozen blades already dropped to the stones.

Kallisti closed her eyes, bitter annoyance prickling at the nape of her neck. Some help that vision was, to have left her in this position. “I know you’re awake,” said Laurentius Daye. She had seen the way Lensha’s eyelids twitched when she was in the throes of the Echo, and briefly tried to imitate it while also casting her aether back toward its anchor point, thereby to escape. Heat seared her shoulder, bright and blooming, and she smelled blood again, real this time; hers; his lance had pierced her shoulder, disrupting her focus on both tasks. She gasped. “Don’t try that again,” Laurentius cautioned.

She was going to die on the floor of Moenbryda’s bedroom, which was not at all what she had imagined for her ending. Oh, she’d imagined this locale once or twice, but the circumstances were vastly different. Kallisti tried not to panic. She had a great deal of practice wrangling her fear of death, but usually she at least had her staff. “Well?” said a voice. “Go and retrieve it, then.” “Nabriales,” she said, eyes snapping open. At the same time, Moenbryda said, “What is he doing here?”

Nabriales turned to face the scholar. Laurentius brought his spear up. Almost casually, Nabriales swiped his claws over the lancer’s throat. Crimson stained his blue uniform, beaded on the black leather of the Ascian’s robes, and spattered upon the stone floor. A moment later, Laurentius fell, too, dropping his weapon to clutch at his neck.

In the fracas, Riol had slipped a knife from his boot and pinned his Braves minder in the corner of the room. Nabriales pulled Kallisti to her feet and toward the door. She yelped at the tug on her injured shoulder, then planted her feet. “Them too,” she demanded. “Really?” the Ascian groused, and the shadows of the room seemed to coalesce into sprites of pitch, the umbral energy sparking from them quickly subduing the Crystal Braves. Moenbryda did not move from her perch. “I said, what is he doing here?” she repeated. “Saving your miserable lives,” he drawled. “Who are you talking to?” Riol asked. “Don’t worry about it,” Kallisti insisted. “An Ascian,” Moenbryda said anyway. “A what?” “Don’t worry about it!” Kallie said, still more forcefully. She clasped a hand to her shoulder, trying to staunch the bleeding.

Nabriales flicked a claw, and his shadow sprites darted out in front of the group, floating down the hall like ball lightning in negative. “I do hope you have a plan, Kallisti,” he muttered. “To the armory first,” she declared, “and we fight our way out.” “I will hold them here,” he said, and she could feel the aether gathering around him even as the Crystal Braves at the end of the hall turned to charge. Kallisti turned away, sprinting ahead, the other Scions running after. Riol hustled to the fore, ducking into the next stairway and clearing the first landings before waving Kallisti and Moenbryda after him.

“Do I want to know?” Moenbryda asked. “I don’t think I could explain it if you did,” Kallisti admitted. “Are you that intent on dissecting a gift?” “Yes. How did he know to come here?” “Put it down to opportunism if you like,” she hedged. “Something’s going on in Ul’dah,” Kallisti continued. “That’s what I saw.” “You think it’s related?” “Raubahn and Ilberd were swordfighting, so I have to assume—” Riol hushed them both, stepping out into the hall. Kallie heard the sounds of feet scuffling on the floor and peered out of the doorway to find the Hyur with his arm wrapped around the neck of another Crystal Brave. The other man made a series of choking, gurgling sounds that were only half-muffled by Riol’s fingers. He dragged the limp body into the stairwell and stripped the blue jacket from his compatriot, shrugging into it. “If the Braves are trying to hold the Rising Stones,” he said, “my best bet is to pass among them. I’m willing to bet this has to do with Wilred’s disappearance …” “What?” Riol looked at her, brow twisted in pained confusion. “Wilred,” he said. “One of ours. The best of us. You didn’t hear?” “I was off dealing with the Isle of Val,” Kallisti said. Riol shook his head, ushering the pair out into the hallway, pretending to hustle them before him. Kallisti didn’t bother to meet the gaze of any of the Braves they passed. She could feel the blood trickling down her arm, droplets falling from her fingertips, spattering on the stone. Her trail of crimson wound from the dormitories to the armory, and as they ducked inside, Kallisti took a deep breath. She repented of it as her shoulders rose, coughing it back out in a sigh a moment later.

She found her staff, and took it in her bloodied hands, feeling her aether flow into it, into once-living bone and wood as though it were her own body. It was a strange sensation—and a new one, having come to her only since Sharlayan, since she had slipped the moors of her mortal flesh for the briefest moment. Kallisti let out another breath, more measured, and turned back toward Riol and Moenbryda.

“Can you get out of here?” she said. “Even if you can only teleport outside, Slafborn should be able to help—” “It would send me back to Sharlayan!” “And I’d end up back in La Noscea.” Kallisti’s tail lashed behind her. She wanted to shrug, but her shoulder stung. “I’m not actually hearing a negative. If you stay here, you die.” “What makes you so sure?” Moenbryda pressed her. “The Sultana’s dead,” Kallisti said. “Gods, they’re trying to pin it on us,” Riol replied a moment later. “That’s the best I can figure,” she agreed. “So go back west or stay here and hang for a traitor.” “What about you?” Moenbryda asked. “What about the Ascian?” “I’ll deal with him,” Kallisti said. “Why did he save you?” “I don’t know,” she admitted. Oh, she had ideas—hopes, perhaps—but she had expected nothing to come of that little tug on the thread of aether that wound between them across whatever distance she could conceive of. “I’ll deal with him.” Moenbryda put the white auracite prism into her hands. “You’ll need this. And the staff.” “I have the staff,” she said, forcing the white stone into a pouch at her belt, marring it with blood. “Minfilia left it with me when she and Lensha went to Ul’dah.”

“Minfilia,” the Roegadyn woman repeated. “Is she alright?” “I didn’t see her,” Kallie said. “Almost everybody … almost everyone went.” “Urianger stayed behind,” Moenbryda supplied. “I have no idea what’s going on at the Waking Sands,” she said. “Is Arenvald with him?” “I think so,” said Riol. “Start with him,” Kallisti said. “Moenbryda, get out of here.” “But—” “You’re injured,” Riol reminded her. “Go.” “I’ll watch the door,” Kallisti said, adopting a ready stance. She clutched her staff with both hands, trying to ignore the pain radiating from her shoulder. The old wood had grown slick and swollen with her blood, drinking it in. “Riol, you go too.” “No,” he said, posting up beside her. “When she’s gone I’ll go find the others. They have no idea what’s happening here.” “Good luck,” said Moenbryda. Kallisti did not look back, but she felt the void in the aether, the rush of currents to fill the empty space, a moment later.

“Now you,” Kallie said, and Riol slipped back out into the hallway, striding stiffly onward, as though he was simply on patrol. She waited until he was out of sight, and thought of a crimson sigil—an insectoid pyramid. The aether around her rippled again, and she felt warmth and darkness at her shoulder. “Are you ready to go?” Nabriales asked. “Yes, but we’re going the long way,” she said. He scoffed. “Why ever so? I could take you to the Chrysalis now.” “Because Riol will need the distraction,” she said, “and I didn’t come for my weapon so that I could not fight.” “Meddlesome little fool,” he scolded her. “Then abandon me to my follies,” she said, already pushing open the door to the hall. “I will not,” said the Ascian, sounding genuinely affronted.

Kallie sprinted down the hall, rounding to find a party of Crystal Braves flanking the doorway. She laughed as she ran, and they hurried after her. So easy to lead them into a narrower passage, where she could round on them and gout them with flame. Nabriales caught them from behind, muttering in his dark tongue about the coming of the end, and crackling black energy speared down the hallway. They fell and he rose, an unhallowed being, his cloak rippling like dark wings, and then she was off again. Her shoulder ached. She let it drive her.

The pain seared still more brightly as she rounded a corner and was faced with a sword in her face. She brought her staff up to block, catching the weapon on the wootz plating. Steel rung against steel, and she shoved upward before the blade could slide far enough to catch her fingers. She could see stars on the edges of her vision, and channeled her pain into astral flame—not a hungry gout as she had done moments before, but an unassuming ember, notable only for where she called it.

She burned the air from the soldier’s lungs, and he died breathing ashes. Nabriales smiled, stepping over him, and led. To the right, the solar, and he turned that way before she shouted for him to follow, and went left, back toward the antechambers where her fellows often gathered.

She mounted the stairs and saw dozens of cobalt uniforms, turning to regard her sudden advance. She backpedaled, stumbling into Nabriales, who put her behind him. “Run,” she urged him, and dove back into the labyrinthine halls of the Rising Stones. She did not hear his footsteps behind her—but she heard the advance of booted feet a moment later, soldiers of the Crystal Braves in hot pursuit.

The earth trembled underfoot. She staggered, stumbled, went down hard—on her injured shoulder, barely keeping hold of her blood-slick staff. Kallisti scrabbled to her feet, passing her staff into her right hand, clutching it with numb fingers so that she could press her left palm to her oozing wound.

She never thought she could miss Lensha so much.

Kallisti looked back as she ran, and saw Nabriales moving through the rising crowd of soldiers, as unconcerned with them as they were with him. His face was masked in the crimson glow of his sigil, but for all the darkness that seethed from him they were still outnumbered. She ran, dimly aware of how difficult it was to climb stairs.

Her hands were cold, so it was ice next, freezing in place the soldiers in blue she saw awaiting her up ahead. The hall stretched onward, no other set of stairs that she could see, so she shouldered open the last door on the left, because she could lean on it with her good side.

It was a dormitory—disused and dusty. Its window overlooked Revenant’s Toll. She was several stories up. “Jump,” Nabriales said, his voice at her ear. She glanced back at him. He was bowed over her, a hand outstretched behind him, as though he could—without even looking—cover the doorway. He reached past her, throwing open the sash of the window. “What?” “Either you jump or we fight our way back out, the way we came, and there are still more of them on the way.” “I’ll die.” “Do you think I would allow that now?” he asked, sounding genuinely annoyed by the possibility. She could hear the approach of boots, the raised voices of the Crystal Braves as they cleared each of the rooms in turn.

Kallisti slung her staff over her back, pulled herself up onto the windowsill with a cry of pain, and tried not to look down. The heights were dizzying. Her fingers were blood-sticky against the leaded casings of the window, and a fierce wind moaned through the canyon. She closed her eyes, let go of her perch, and leapt, pushing off with her legs.

It was cold, a night wind rushing over her face, through her hair, tearing away her hat. Then it was warm, and she got the sense that even with her eyes open she could not see through the complete blackness that surrounded her. All sense of gravity failed her. She knew her head from her feet only by orienting herself around her pain—that must be her right shoulder, she told herself, which meant she must know which way her head was facing. She did not breathe, and she was sure she must be dying. She thought of an ocean she had never seen.

Then she thought of the salt marshes of her home, of the sea crashing over the breakwaters and flooding the estuaries. She could smell them, she thought—although perhaps the salt that filled her lungs was merely the scent of her own blood. Then she felt rain upon her cheeks.

Kallisti opened her eyes, and found herself in Nabriales’s arms, her legs dangling freely as he clutched her, chest to chest. “I told you I could float,” he reminded her, and set her down among the sedges. “I had other things on my mind,” she said. She leaned on him, no longer feeling strong enough to stand. “This is Yafaem,” she said after a moment. Even in the dim night, it seemed obvious to her. She knew these trees, the reeds and grasses that tickled at her calves, the scent of peat. “It seemed best to allow you to decide,” Nabriales said. “What is this place?” “It’s home,” she said, sagging with relief. He reached out to catch her by the shoulder, and she hissed in pain. “Careful,” she said. “That still troubles you?” “Of course it does,” she snapped. “It’s a wound.” “Hm,” he said, pulling her in, clamping his hand over her shoulder. She yelped in pain, looking up at his face in agony as though she might find there some reason for this torture.

He was not smiling sadistically, as she could not help but to have imagined. Instead, his mouth was set in a grim line of focus, and she imagined the frown that bent his brow behind the mask. The searing pain of contact ebbed after a moment, and she could feel the blood trickling from her wound reverse direction, flowing upward, back into her body. Her agonized flesh knitted, slowly, pulsing with pain for several minutes. She fought past it to watch as the damage she had done to herself in her desperate flight was mended, leaving no scar, even the skin around the wound free of blood—though it still clung to her fingers. When he lifted his hand, the cloth, too, was mended. It was like nothing had ever happened. “Oh,” she said. Her head swam. “There,” he said. “How fragile your mortal body.” “I still lost a lot of blood,” she said, lifting her hand to regard it. He curled his palm around her own, pressing her fingers to his lips. It stained them crimson, darker than his mask. “Little I can do for that now that we’ve left it in Mor Dhona,” he said, tone sardonic. “I need a place to rest. There’s … I think there’s a cave near here, we would use it when we were hunting in this area …”

She listened to the falling rain—pattering on leaves, splashing into the waters of the marsh. The wind blew through the grasses, and she could hear the call of frogs. “We’re safe,” she said. “No one … no one comes here but my clan, and … they’ll know me. If they find us.” Still it seemed an impossible task to reach the foothills, and she staggered through the mire until they found its mouth. It was cool and dry inside. She fell to her knees immediately, putting her back to the stone walls and sliding down. Nabriales crouched beside her. His hood had gone, sometime since their arrival here. His mask, too. He looked at her. “Are you staying? It isn’t much, but it should be safe. Or are you going … wherever Ascians go?” He shook his head. “There are things that require my attention, but these are eventualities. My window of opportunity has not yet closed.” She hummed out some acquiescence, letting her eyes close. The outer layers of her clothing were damp with rain, but the cloth against her skin was dry, and it seemed too much effort to undress now. It took most of her concentration to focus long enough to ask a single question.

“Why did you know to come for me?” “You asked,” he said. “Nnnn…no, I didn’t, I never said your name until you were already there.” He laughed, the bombastic sound of it filling the cave, redoubled and echoing around them. “Is that how you think this works, little fool?” he mused. “That you can speak my name and summon me, like a bound voidsent?” “When you think about it,” Kallisti said, “I am Mhachi.” “Even the ancient sorcerers of Mhach could not command our kind,” Nabriales said, bristling with pride. “No. You cannot compel me.” “Then why did you come?” “I felt your distress,” he said. She felt aether prickle along the nape of her neck—distantly, as though through a haze of black felt. Kallisti realized then how drawn she was. “I thought you understood this.” “I didn’t realize …” “I could be banished to the most distant star and I would still feel you,” he said. “It was not my intent when I branded you, but in what came afterward …” “In Sharlayan?” she supplied. “We are entangled now,” he said. “A change in your aether is a change in my aether,” he said. “I can sense your soul as though you had laid it bare before me.” “Spooky,” she said. Then, “Isn’t that a weakness?” “Perhaps,” he admitted. “So that’s how you knew,” she said, “but I couldn’t compel you to act. That means … it was your decision.” “Yes,” Nabriales said.

“Isn’t that unusual?” she asked. “Yes.” Then the rising darkness swarmed up around her, and she let it claim her. Her struggle had wearied her. It was so much easier simply to let go.

#wol/nabriales #kallisti #original content #starcunning writes #fanservice friday #nabriales #hydaelyn trusts only the most idiotic cats with Her blessing #Erebidae #everybody knows shit's FUCKED

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smilingperformer · 6 years

Text

SM087 - Plot, plot, plot ~

Silly title is silly. Anyway, Necrozma Arc has finally started in it’s glory, and the newest episode focuses on building up important lore points about the legend of Alola’s Creation and Alola’s three legendary Pokémon related to said lore. I’ll be focusing on the lore and plot in my thoughts post this time around, so I hope you’ll enjoy it! Without further ado, welcome to the start of the Necrozma Arc in Pocket Monsters Sun & Moon:

A Crisis in Alola! The Darkness That Eats Radiance!

Since the start of the episode is important to the plot, let me recap it the best I can: Necrozma is shown to be breaking free from some Crystal-like formation, and as it sees Lunala and Solgaleo, who we know as Nebby, it screams in a scary, possibly painful way, and charges at them. As this happens, Satoshi wakes up only to face a cursed sight of Kukui having his coat closed up and wearing a shirt! Kukui isn’t the only one affected: Burnet is also being extra sleepy and is skipping out on morning Ocean trip! And that’s not all: as we learn after the opening, it’s all of the adults in Alola! Even Rocket Gang! (We can scratch any false information of Rocket Gang being teenagers now right?)

Now that I’ve managed to somewhat explain one of the main conflicts of the episode, and the arc, let us move on to explaining the lore bits of the arc that will become important during the arc episodes later on. Since Kukui was supposed to explain about the following information, but was too sleepy and slacky to do it, Kaki is doing the explanation instead! (And I’ll slack of by showing it through screencaps. Maybe Necrozma affecting me as well. I am a young adult after all.)

The Manalo Festival

This is something I couldn’t understand without subtitles, but is definitely an important lore bit for the future of the arc. I find it clever that they sneaked in the years Pokeani has been airing into this lore. Very sneaky Pokeani team, very sneaky. We also learn that Manalo and Alola are from the ancient language, where Manalo means “You and I will live together”, while Alola means pretty much what we’ve learned the main treat of the region to be: “To Share”. The Legendary Pokemon in question of the festival is none other than The Radiant One (Kagayaki-sama).

And this is where the next lore point comes to play as well. This time explained by Lilie, who’s been hearing the story about Alola’s Creation from Lusamine herself, ever since she was a small kid. And apparently, Lusamine’s repeating a family tradition with it. It’s actually a continuation from the myth we learned from Acerola back in SM074!

The Myth of Alola’s Creation

Pretty neat bed-time story isn’t it! The emissaries of light are of course Lunala and Solgaleo, while the ends of the sky is a way of describing an Ultra Hole. When you start thinking about the very start of the episode, this story starts making a lot of sence, as it seems to be occuring right at that moment. This bit of lore has made me believe that the main goal of this Arc is for Lunala and Solgaleo to help Necrozma regain its lost light after awaking from it’s long slumber.

But as myths always are, the stories tend to get trimmed over time and important parts of it will become lost. I believe the bit that has been lost in the myth is how Necrozma without light is in constant pain (the scream it makes both at the beginning and the end of the episode makes me highly believe this is the case. It sounds painful), and will use any means to get its light back. That includes its ability to fuse with Lunala and Solgaleo, which is what makes it become Ultra Necrozma, The Radiant One. No one who knows the myth of The Radiant One in Alola seems to know about this bit thou, which highly makes me believe the people of Alola will be shocked after they learn the truth.

Whatever the case, Bebenom is shown to be very curious about The Radiant One in this episode, as it’s been in previous cases. And it seems to sense that the arrival of Necrozma is incoming, and whatever is happening in Alola as of now (with Mysterious Clouds hanging over Alola Region and all) is related to it. Maybe the situation has it’s wary because of how similar it feels to when its homeworld was sucked out of light?

The Z-moves lacking power

For some reason, I saw people claiming this wasn’t important at all, but let me tell you, this bit is extremely important bit to the plot! As we know from the games, and as it is confirmed by Burnet later on in the episode as well, Z-moves power originates from the Ultra Aura that is surrounding Alola, and this Ultra Aura originates from the Ultra Wormhole. And, we also learn later on (more about it later in this post), the whole reason Adults seem to be affected this way is because of a tiny Ultra Wormhole that is sucking Alola’s Ultra Aura, diminishing the amount of it bit by bit. So the reason Z-moves are acting less powerful is because of the same cause as Adults being tired and acting weird. I’m telling you, do not shrug this plot point off as nothing! It will play a part later on! It’s the story-telling 101. Show a plot point, explain it later, solve it later. This will most likely play a huge role with Ultranecrozium Z as well. Hoo boy am I scared of seeing that.

During this scene Bebenom also gets inspired to draw Ultra Necrozma’s symbol. But more about that later!

The tiny Ultra Wormhole sucking up Alola’s Ultra Aura

Pretty much what I explained briefly before. But this time explained by Burnet and Wicke! Let me fastforward the episode for more information!

Thou before that, let it be known that Rocket Gang has noticed the opening of the tiny Ultra Wormhole as well, and are heading to Alola, lead by none other than Matori! And as we know, they’re coming to get The Radiant One. Anyway, fastforward to when the Ultra Guardians and Aether Foundation team gather at the Altar of the Sunne:

(Looks like a full day passed since the episode started, meaning the Solar Eclipse is happening in just one day!)

To anyone believing the Adults only being affected by this won’t be explained, please listen to this dialogue! Because they are acknowledging it, I’m very certain we’ll learn the full reason for this later down the road of the arc. Again, story-telling 101: introduce plot point, explore it, find the explanation.

That hole being the tiny one they found out about earlier in the episode (they also explained it to the Ultra Guardians here). When the new member of the Ultra Guardians team, Gladio, asks about an UB possibly coming out of it, Lusamine tells that if the hole grows larger, there’s def a chance for it. To which Burnet continues.

After small comic relief of Wicke being harsh on Sauboh (unintentionally, because of being tired), Sauboh continues from this:

See? The Clouds itself aren’t the cause of the crisis. They are only one of the outcomes of the crisis happening. So, today’s mission is for the Z-users of Ultra Guardians to power up this machine, so that the clouds can be taken out of the way to help locate the tiny Wormhole before anything else happens.

Here’s the bit that explains the Z-Power lore!

So, the Ultra Guardians fire of their Z-moves, and the clouds are taken out of the way.

The Ancient Painting regarding Alola’s Creation Myth

I actually talked about this a week ago after the preview, so I don’t want to go into detail anymore, but what I want to correct is that Solgaleo actually does have it’s face, but it’s drawn in an ancient akward way. Also, as I was being corrected on, there are Trumbeak in this painting.

Bebenom is shown very, very interested in the painting, and definitely knows about the symbol. And this is very well acknowledged by Rotom and Satoshi!

We once again see that curious, lore-loving Lusamine here. Even when she’s tired, she wants to unlock the mysteries of the ancient myth behind Necrozma. And I’m telling you, I’m certain desciphering this painting is part of the arc. Maybe, possibly during the next episode or two, Lusamine will be trying to uncover the mystery of this painting, while the Ultra Guardians will be trying to Protect Lunala. Speaking off which, we have now reached the end of the episode, where the amazing stuff starts!

The Arrival of Necrozma

After Burnet calls the squad to come back up because of the tiny Ultra Wormhole getting bigger, we finally see Lunala in its full glory, arriving from the hole! But what’s more…

(Did I forget to explain why Gladio is here? He’s here because Silvuddy is scared of the presence Necrozma is giving off through the tiny wormhole, and I bet it’ll increase with the arrival of the being! Speaking of which)

Necrozma arrives right behind Lunala, tearing through the Ultra Wormhole, and making that same scream it did at the beginning of the episode.

Everyone’s reactions say a ton about the situation. This is after Necrozma screamed. Lusamine’s reaction somehow feels more curious than worry or scare. I’m sure she’ll realise this is not the time to be curious during next episode. She has learned the lesson back in Aether Arc after all.

And I have to say this right now: this scene right here has by far my favourite track in the whole series of Pokeani now! The Guitar, the atmosphere, the sound, everything about is so god damn glorious and I want the OST of this series so bad now. Sony, you’re the guys licensing the music, pleaaaaase release the OST!

The End of the episode! Honestly, this is a great start for what seems to be growing into an amazing Arc, and I can’t wait to see the next episode! The music in this episode was excellent, the plot reveals and lore explanations were a delight and the return of Gladio and arrival of both Lunala and Necrozma has be extemely hyped! Necrozma Arc, bring it on!

If I forgot to talk about a certain plot point, please point it out. I wrote this as I rewatched the episode, so I should not have missed out on anything, but, I’m a human, and humans make mistakes. (And I was kinda unfocused during this process. God damn.)

Also, Ishizuka was back to narrating this episode, and honestly the death of him is still affecting the way I hear his dialogue in this episode. ;-;

The PokeProblem segment has Mao’s Papa returning from having spend this… whole time (?) at Yareyutan’s bar, to which Yareyutan just… sighs. Oh dear. A good mood lighter after the plot-heavy episode. Not too comical, and not too serious. I like it.

Next week, Matori shows how good of a secretary she is to Sakaki, and the Rocket Gang’s special Unit arrives to Alola to capture Necrozma, who fights with Lunala, as it seems to eventually manage to fuse with it. Looks to be a action-heavy episode, with Bebenom somehow looking scared D: Everyone, protect the poison baby!

SM088 - Lunala VS UB: BLACK! A Battle at Full Moon!!

And as Gozu says at the end of the preview: Watch it, or you’ll suffer That!

Thanks for reading, and I’ll see you all in the next post!

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kivaember · 6 years

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Plot: In a politcal plot to remove Aymeric from power, the house of lords votes to change his job title to traveling diplomat and sends him to kugane.

(okay i just wrote something for it instead uuuuuuuuuuh no regrets??? man tempted to do a few oneshots of WoL/Aym in Kugane and see how that goes)

“By majority vote,” Artoirel said in a quietly apologetictone, “You have been nominated as Ishgard’s official ambassador to Kugane. Youare expected to report to your new posting by the end of this month, sailingschedules permitting.”

Lucia drew in a sharp breath through her clenched teeth.Aymeric ignored it. He did not flinch, kept his expression one of cool neutralityas he quietly absorbed the blow Artoirel had delivered him. He should begrateful that this had been done in the privacy of his office, and not in thevery public space of the House of Lords session he was meant to be attending inthe next hour. Artoirel himself looked rumpled, as if he had ran here themoment he heard Aymeric had returned from his inspection of Dzaemel Darkhold.

He shouldn’t be surprised. There had been many debates onwho to send as part of the contribution to diplomatic mission in Kugane. TheEorzean Alliance had established an embassy there, eager to try and secure afoothold there to allow better communication and diplomacy with their new Domanally, and sent the call for each City State to contribute. Various names hadbeen drawn up in both Houses, but Aymeric’s had been bandied about the most.

Logically, it made sense: he was charismatic and well knownfor his political acumen. He also had a genuine interest in expanding Ishgard’sforeign ties, was friendly and culturally sensitive to foreigners, and was oneof the loudest supporters for the Eorzean Alliance – and had several enemies inboth Houses that would enjoy neutralising him by sending him as far away asphysically possible without launching him into space. He had already provenhimself too troublesome to cleanly assassinate.

Aymeric folded his hands on his desk, very carefullycompartmentalising his personal feelings on the matter and forced himself toregard it with cold calculation. In all honesty he was impressed at the cunningof this plan – he had been aware there was a voting session whilst he was oninspection, but as it didn’t pertain to any high-profile proposals orlegislation, hadn’t paid much mind to it. If he had known…

Well, what could he have done? From the sounds of it thishad been a plan long in the making and the votes already decided before thedebate had even begun. The majority of Ishgard’s MPs wanted him out of Ishgardand causing trouble for other people. He should, in fact, look at this as anopportunity. He was already coming to the end of his term as Speaker – he hadbeen elected twice, already, and their constitution stated that one could onlydo two consecutive terms at a time – and he had been considering whether to revertto being mainly the Lord Commander or becoming a full-time politician.

It was a prestigious position, on paper. He should behonoured that he was chosen to represent Ishgard and strengthen their ties withtheir allies.

He should be.

(he wasn’t)

“I see,” Aymeric finally said, when three full minutes ofsilence stretched between them, “Thank you for informing me, Lord Artoirel.Should I assume that my presence is therefore not needed in the upcomingsession?”

Artoirel dipped his head, “Correct. It has been decided thatI will carry out the remainder of your duties until the next Speaker is chosenin the upcoming month.”

Aymeric relaxed a fraction at that. At least his exile hadn’twrenched a hole open for the likes of Lord Dounon to slither into, “Am I ableto nominate a successor for Lord Commander, or has that too been decidedwithout me?”

Artoirel winced slightly at that, “If you are able tonominate a successor that meets the Houses’ approval in the next week-”

“Lucia,” Aymeric said instantly.

“Sir,” Luciaprotested, “I am-”

“More than acceptable,” Aymeric said shortly, “LordArtoirel, if the Houses’ have a complaint on my successor, feel free to directthem to myself. Notwithstanding her origins, she has proven herself time andagain as a loyal soldier of Ishgard, unflinching in her service and diligent inher duties. I will accept none other as my successor, if only because she hasbeen carrying out the Lord Commander duties on my behalf for the past few yearsso I know she can do it. She has proven herself.”

A grim kind of humour flickered across Artoirel’s face asLucia stood in stunned silence, “I am sure no one will protest, sir.”

“I will protest,”Lucia said immediately, “Sir, my place is at your side.”

“You would be better served here, Lucia,” Aymeric said, “Irefuse to relinquish this seat to someone who would abuse it. I know I cantrust you with Ishgard and the Temple Knight’s best interests.”

Lucia wavered, but after a pause where Aymeric met her gaze evenly,her shoulders slumped and she inclined her head with a soft, unhappy, “Understood,sir.”

“I shall leave you to your preparations, Lord Commander,”Artoirel said, rising from his seat, “I wish you luck in your new position.”

The door that clicked shut behind the departing Artoirelsounded damningly final. Silence reigned again, until slowly, Aymeric pushedhis seat back and stood up.

Lucia watched him with wary eyes, “Sir?”

“Pardon me, Lucia,” he said with a strange, unsteady sort ofcalm, “I need a moment to collect my thoughts. Please take over my duties untilI return.”

“… yes, sir.”

Aymeric barely remembered the walk back to his home. Hismind was too busy spinning over how he had been exiled from a home he had shed sweat, blood and tears over for all hislife. Should he be surprised, though? From the moment Lord Borel had raised himup from one of the many unwanted, faceless orphans that clogged up the Brume,Aymeric had always had to viciously fight and defend his place in a world thatwas determined to shut him out, had always had to dig his heels in so he wasn’ttossed aside. No one had believed he would amount to anything more than alow-rank knight – and even then, that had been considered too good for a bastardlike him. But he had proven them wrong – had forced them to look at him and admit he was better than his peers who came from good stock.

That did not come from being passive and earnest. Aymerichad to be more ruthless, more calculating and smarter and stronger and moreskilled to achieve his goals. He had crushed more than a few noble hopefulsunder his heel to claw his way into the position of Lord Commander, and while hewas eventually, grudgingly,acknowledged… he was never accepted.

He’d gotten complacent, he realised. He thought things hadchanged enough that he could relax into a position he made himself and not worry about having to continuously prove hisworth to remain there. He was elected! They wanted him there! They wanted him there!

Hah. What a lie he told himself.

When he reached home, he stood in the front hallway for along while, feeling adrift. He should start getting his affairs in order. Heneeded to see if he could transfer his funds from the Ishgardian bank to whateverthe equivalent was in Kugane, he needed to find which ports directly travelledto Kugane, he needed to pack and whatwas he going to do with this house? Should he place everything in storage? Lasthe heard the diplomatic mission in Kugane was a three year posting, but what ifthey just continuously renewed his place there? He’d never come home and thenwhat? There was so much to consider in so short a time – transporting hisbelongings would have to be done the slow way, by ship, even if he possessedjust enough anima and aetherical control to teleport to Kugane. Though it tooka lot out of him and he had to take a day to sleep it off and-

Aymeric closed his eyes and stopped his thoughts, taking adeep, long breath.

…

He couldn’t believe he had been exiled.

Realising he wasn’t going to get anything done, Aymeric satdown on the bottom step of his stairwell and stared at his hands. If this hadhappened differently, if this had been a choiceof his, he knew he would be excited and eager to carry out a diplomatic missionin a foreign country. But it wasn’t his choice. It was a thinly veiledrejection, of the Houses coming together and saying ‘thanks for everything butwe don’t want you here anymore so go be someone else’s problem’, and that…

That really hurt.

Aymeric gently prodded that hurt for a moment and sighed. Itsounded childish even to him. No doubt there were more than a few who genuinelythought he was the best man for the job, who probably thought he’d be overjoyedat such a posting, but emotions rarely took logic into consideration, so he wasleft with a throat-clenching, chest-tightening ache that he had to breathe throughslowly.

He’d get over it, he told himself as he rubbed roughly athis face. He always got over it. He just needed to think how this would be adelightful change of pace, and how it opened so many new opportunities andexperiences for him. He would enjoyit, the initial pain of sorting his admin out aside, and it might, potentially,mean more time with Aza-

-shit. Aza. Aza hated Kugane.

It felt like a stone had dropped hard into the bottom of hisstomach. Aza refused to go to Kuganeunless it was absolutely vital for work or to fulfil a favour for a friend. IfAymeric was trapped there full time, would Aza go against his understandableand visceral hatred of the place to visit him? Even if he did, would Aymericeven ask him of that? It seemed cruel, and he couldn’t force Aza to besomewhere he hated. He would hate it, Aza would hate it, and they’d be equallymiserable.

For a very brief, desperate moment, Aymeric was actuallytempted to do something drastic like commit political suicide and force theHouses to elect someone more ‘proper’… only to realise that they’d probablysend him anyways as punishment for whatever he did. He anxiously stood up,paced the width of his front hallway, and sat down again, feeling a caged animal.

He should call Aza.

Forcing himself to push away his unsettled emotions andfocus, he tapped at his linkpearl, reaching for his partner’s frequency. He wasat Camp Dragonhead today, helping Lord Emmanellain with some task or other, sothe connection should be stable enough without enduring static-

“Hello?”

“Aza,” Aymeric murmured, feeling his stomach do somethingvery weird and potentially medically unhealthy, like it couldn’t decide whetherto twist or sink, “Hello, love.”

“Aym?” Aza’s surprisewas understandable. Aymeric only tended to call his linkpearl for long absencesor emergencies, “What’s wrong? Are youokay?”

“I’m-” he found himself incapable of finishing. He was fine, but also not. He also feltinexplicably foolish. Aza was supposed to be back by dusk, and it seemedridiculous to call him in the middle of work simply because Aymeric’s feelingswere hurt over a reassignment. It wasn’t pressing, or an emergency, and couldvery easily wait for that evening when Aymeric didn’t feel so raw about it.

“It’s nothing,” he said instead, “I’m sorry if I distractedyou. I’ll speak to you to-”

“Bullshit,” Aza interruptedsharply, “Aym, you sound really fucking upset. What happened? Do I have tokill someone?”

“I- do not sound upset,” Aymeric said unconvincingly, becausehe sounded strained even to his own ears, “No one needs to be killed either.”Unless Aza was willing to eliminate the entirety of Ishgard’s government, thatis.

(Terrifyingly, Aymeric knew Aza would do that, for him, but it was best not to dwell on those things)

“You sure?” Aza’stone gentled, “C’mon, tell me what’swrong. I’m just sitting here watching people fail at mining, so I can talk. Youwon’t be bothering me.”

Fail at mining? “How can you fail at mining?”

“Easily, if you’re a CampDragonhead knight, apparently. They keep fucking up the extraction ofdarksteel,” Aza sighed, “Amateurs,honestly. I’m gonna wait for a few hours before putting them out of theirmisery.”

Aymeric was half-tempted to ask about how one exactly ‘fuckedup the extraction of darksteel’, but that would be procrastinating and both ofthem knew it. Aza would indulge him, but Aymeric really shouldn’t try talkingcircles about this. He took a moment.

Aza patiently waited. On his end he could hear the softcrackle of the aether connection, distant, muffled shouts and the howl of astrong wind.

“… I’m… I’m no longer the Speaker of the House of Lords,” Aymericfinally said, surprised at how much it hurt to say that aloud. It was more realwhen he actually said and acknowledged it.

“You’re… how?” Azagasped, “I thought you had another twomonths!”

“It seems,” Aymeric muttered, his voice brittle, “That theHouses unanimously agreed that I would be better served in Kugane as Ishgard’srepresentative in the Eorzean Alliance’s embassy.”

“They’re kicking youout of Ishgard!?” Aza hissed,understanding immediately, “They can’t dothat! You’re the reason their government isn’t a steaming pile of shit rightnow! You single-handedly-”

“I cannot claim all the credit for Ishgard’s recentsuccesses,” Aymeric said tiredly, “I’m not that arrogant to think the governmentrevolves around me. No, I…” he paused and then continued with a conviction hedidn’t feel, “I have fulfilled my purpose here, and can… do more in Kugane. It’sfine. It’s a prestigious position to have and they clearly think I can do wellin it. It… it will go well.”

“…” Aza sighed, “Aym, you don’t have to lie to me.”

Aymeric felt awful. He wanted this conversationface-to-face. He should have waited, “I’m not lying.”

“You are,” Azasaid firmly, “You’re upset, so be upset.Why else did you call me? C’mon.”

“To give you the good news?” Aymeric croaked out.

“You didn’t even tryto sound sincere then,” Aza said, unimpressed, “Look, I’ll come home right now-”

“You hate Kugane,” Aymeric blurted.

“What?”

“You hate Kugane,” Aymeric repeated, “So, if I’m there… you-”

“Gods, Aym,” Azasounded like he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or yell at him, “Yeah, I hate it, but… shit. I won’t letthat stop me from visiting you or hogging your blankets. You’ll have to pry meout of your bed almost every morning, same as usual.”

“But,” Aymeric began and… faltered, because that part of Aza’spast was always a taboo subject, “Your history…”

“Was over twenty yearsago,” Aza murmured so quietly Aymeric almost didn’t hear him, “I… I’ll be okay. For you, I’ll be okay. Imean, try to have your living quarters as Eorzean as possible and don’t startdressing like a Doman, but… yeah, it’ll be fine.”

Aymeric wavered, “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” Aza soundedlike he was smiling, “You’re totallyworth a bit of discomfort, handsome. You just gotta be extra distracting whenever I visit, okay?”

“Easily done,” Aymeric said with unspeakable relief. Thatwas one burden eased from hisshoulders, at least.

“Was that the onlything that was upsetting you?”

Aymeric hesitated, but confessed, “No. I’m… there is more.”

“Okay,” Aza’svoice was gentle, “Let me show these guyshow to mine, and I’ll be home within the hour so we can talk properly, alright?”

“Alright,” Aymeric almost whispered, “Don’t needlessly rush.I can wait.”

“Pfft. No, you can’t. You’remore important to me than a bunch of stupid rocks. Go make your birch tea shitand go relax. I’ll be with you soon.”

“It’s not ‘birch tea shit’,” Aymeric grumbled, “It’s-”

“Love you, handsome!”Aza cut over him cheerily, and made a noisy kissing noise down the line, “Talk to you soon!”

“Aza-”

‘Click!’

Aymeric lowered his fingers from the linkpearl at thatrather rude hang up and sat there for a moment. He felt, surprisingly, a littlebetter. The hurt was beginning to slowly give way to simmering, ugly resentmentand indignation, but Aymeric put a lid on that for when Aza came home and stoodup.

He still felt adrift. He still felt as stunned as if he’djust taken a knife to the back, but… at least he knew Aza would still be withhim, every step of the way. And he’d recover from this. He always bounced backfrom shit like this, from people determined to declaw him and render himharmless. He just needed to brush the dust off his more… ruthless tendencies.

Deep breath. Exhale.

Good.

With his head lifted high, Aymeric made for the kitchens to makehis ‘birch tea shit’, to prepare for his new political battlefield.

#ffxiv #fanfic #aymeric de borel #warrior of light #artoirel fortemps #lucia goe junius #politics or smth #kinda wanna do a series of aymeric in kugane as a diplomat #and getting into a passive aggressive war with the garlean diplomats

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