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riverboundao3ff · 4 years

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Riverbound, Chapter 19

Your name is WANSHI ADYATA and you think you just walked in on a muscular theatre session between an alien, an oliveblood, and Lynera Skalbi.

The night had started out normally enough, except a little bit better than usual because one of your classes got canceled, which almost never happens! You decided to go see if Daraya wanted to finish creating her Soldier Purrbeasts OC with you, but she was busy because of her chores. That made you try to find Karako instead but one of the older girls told you he left earlier for church. Annoyed, you went off to the dining hall to grab a snack, only to run into Lanque. Lanque asked if you wanted to help make your friend calm the hell down.

And here you are.

“Polypa! Let go!” Micah cries, thrashing violently in the oliveblood’s arms. Wow, you’ve never seen a non-jadeblooded troll in the caverns before. “Put me-- why can’t I teleport? Why can’t I-!”

“You need to calm down!” Lynera begs, trying and failing to restrain the alien’s arms. She’s afraid of hurting them, but that means she isn’t using the strength she needs to subdue them.

“Calm down my ass!”

“Micah, we can’t let you go kill a god because you feel like it,” Polypa tries to reason. She tries to shoosh-pap them, only for them to rear back and kick at her kneecaps.

“He killed my friend! I will tear down this entire solar system!”

Hazel eyes flash pure green, and your bloodpusher starts to race in fear. You creep closer to Lanque, who’s been silent, but he doesn’t look afraid so you won’t be either. Friends being scared of each other isn’t what real friends do.

He clears his throat. Everybody stops what they’re doing and stares at him. “Micah, what was the first thing I said to you when we met at Ardata’s party?”

Micah blinks. “I, uh… you asked me why I look the way I do?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“To distract you.”

In one swift movement, Polypa arranges them into a wiggler-carry in her arms and sits down on the loungeplank, holding them tight enough so they can’t escape.

“Traitor,” Micah growls.

“It’s only temporary, darling. As much as I’d love to help you wipe that Scratch bastard from the face of the multiverse for all he’s done, now is simply not the time. You’re in no shape to be doing something like that.”

“Or ever! Please don’t run off to fight a god!” Lynera pleads.

Lanque scoffs. “Well, I’d help you fight a god, even if she won’t. But I digress.”

“Lanque! Don’t give them ideas!”

“Shut up.”

“You shut up!”

“Or what? Going to cry about it, Ska-?”

“BOTH OF YOU ARE GIVING ME A FUCKING MIGRAINE. OH MY GOD. SOMETIMES I WISH ULTIMATE DIRK SNAPPED MY NECK WHEN HE HAD THE CHANCE. IF YOU BOTH DON’T SHUT UP I’M TELLING BRONYA YOU PITCH FLIRTED IN FRONT OF WANSHI. I AM SERIOUSLY AT MY LIMIT, FOLKS. SHUT. THE. FUCK. UP.”

You stare in awe as Lanque, Lynera, and Polypa all back away as Micah leaps to their feet and bears down on Lanque with a furious snarl. “Do not antagonize Lynera!” They turn and point at the girl in question, who is trying to flatten herself into the wall while looking anywhere but at them. “Don’t tell me what to do! And you.” They glare down at Polypa. “If you ever restrain me like that again I’m breaking up with you.”

With that, they whirl around, storm up the stairs, and slam the door behind them hard enough for it to rattle on its hinges.

A moment of dead silence deafens everybody in the room.

“... Is it just me or was that kind of hot?” Lanque asks.

Lynera swallows nervously. “I think we broke them.”

Polypa nods, looking immensely sad and guilty.

You sigh. You know what you need to do. “I’m gonna go talk to them.”

All three of the grown-ups turn to look down at you.

“Are you sure, Wanshi? They seemed pretty upset.” Lynera says. She picks at a loose thread on her sleeve, one of her many nervous habits. “It might be best to just let them cool down.”

You cross your arms. “No! They just need somebody to actually listen to them. Bye!”

Lynera calls after you as you run up the stairs, but you’re on a mission and Wanshi Adyaya never fails a mission.

Their scent trail is super distinct ‘cause they don’t smell anything like a troll, so you’re able to follow it all the way back up to the main level, and then to the main entrance. You have to dodge a bunch of other girls who are going to class due to the fact that you’re supposed to be going to class… but you don’t really care. You’re doing something far more important than learning about stuff you can just ask Lanque about later.

Just as you reach the tunnel that leads to the outside world, the trail abruptly doubles back and you have to turn around. You walk along it patiently as it takes you to one of the offshoots that almost nobody knows about except you and a choice few others.

… You are SUNPETAL of SHADECASTE, and you are tracking down your wayward castemate after they ran away from a Gathering gone awry. TWINKLEMOON of STORMCASTE, former rogue turned popular caste-cat, must be found and comforted no matter what the cost! All five castes grieved as if they lost their own family after they mysteriously disappeared for half a sweep, presumed dead by all. That sort of thing must never happen again!

Sniffing the air, you confirm you’re on the right track and keep marching on into the dimly-lit tunnel. Fresh air blows over your face, bringing with it the odor of acid rain.

You find them curled up at the small opening, watching lightning crackle in the late evening sky.

“I know you’ve come and gone farther than most, Twinklemoon, but I’m afraid where you rest won’t give you any shelter from the storm,” you announce.

They shake their head as they gaze up at the dark clouds. “I fear no storm except the one inside me, Sunpetal.”

“Storms can be scary,” you agree. “And yet rain gives life to plants and animals, and the wind blows away the sorrows of yesterday, and the lightning starts fires that clear away dead vegetation so that new forests may grow in its stead.”

“So there is beauty in suffering?”

“No. But there’s always hope.”

Micah looks back at you, sighs, and hops down from the ledge, closing the hatch behind them as the first drops of acid rain begin to fall. One lands on their arm, and they wipe at it with an absent grunt of pain.

“Try not to be too angry with them,” you tell them. “They want to help you, and they really care about you-- we all do. We just don’t know how to show it. You’re not a troll, so yeah.”

“... You don’t have to involve yourself in this kind of stuff, Wanshi,” they say quietly.

You huff. “Well, I want to be involved. I’m part of the rebellion, too.”

They grin, something in their eyes softening. “I know.”

“Are you mad ‘cause you’re hurting?”

“... Yeah. I’m… not well, Wanshi. My brain isn’t, anyways.” They sit down on the carpet and pull their bony knees up to their chest. “I don’t know exactly how trolls behave in response to trauma, but for humans we have flashbacks to the event that hurt us, and we get angry for no good reason, and sometimes when we’re angry we accidentally hurt the people around us.”

“How are you gonna get better?”

“I don’t know. I’m going to get worse before I get better.”

“Because you don’t know how to get better.”

“Exactly.”

You think about that, and then you think about what you could say to make them feel a little better. “Sometimes Karako gets angry because he’s super smart but he can’t communicate like you or I do. That doesn’t mean he deserves to be lonely. It just means we each have to work a little harder to understand what’s going on.”

Micah turns to face you, pale brows furrowing. “Wanshi? How smart is Karako?”

“Wellllll… he can draw really well. And he always knows what people are feeling! Like, he always knows what’s going on when I talk to him. I don’t really know how to explain it, but I think the way his brain works lets him understand things a little differently. Not more or less, just… different,” you explain.

“... Huh.”

“What I’m trying to say is that you should talk to us more. Maybe you’re a pale slut, but you’re our pale slut, so we want to hear about your problems!” you declare.

They burst out laughing and fall back, throwing an arm over their face. “Oh, geez, don’t let Bronya hear you talk like that!”

You blow a raspberry at them. “I’m gonna be a teenager in a few sweeps! I don’t care what Bronya thinks!”

“I know.”

“Or Lynera.”

“Alright, alright. Thanks for talking with me, Wanshi.”

“No problem! Just promise that you’ll keep talking to us so we can help you.” You hold out your “pinkie finger” as they call it, and they reach out to link it with their own. “No more secrets.”

A flash of something like pain darkens their eyes for a split second, but it comes and goes so quick you’re honestly not sure if you even saw anything at all. “... Okay.”

“Good. Wanna go back to the others and get your moirail out of here? It’s kind of illegal for anybody except jadebloods to be here.”

Hazel eyes grow round. “Oh, shit, I completely forgot about that.”

The both of you run all the way back to Lynera’s study, but you can’t stop giggling at Micah’s little utterances of “Shitshitshitshitshitshit--” under their breath. Something about them reminds you of a fussy baby purrbeast.

The next several minutes of your life are very entertaining.

“Polypa! Why are you here? It’s illegal!” Micah yells as they tear down the stairs to Lynera’s study at maximum velocity. “It’s illegal!”

You watch as the two start squabbling. Polypa is on the verge of a messy breakdown because hello, her moirail just threatened to break up with her, Micah is yelling at her for risking her life by being in the caverns, Lanque has somehow gotten a bag of chips and is munching away while looking totally enthralled by the whole mess, and Lynera keeps trying to no-clip through the floor. That or she’s constipated, you don’t know for sure.

“Can I have one?” you ask Lanque.

He passes you the bag, never taking his eyes off Micah and Polypa. “Wanshi, what you’re seeing right now is the reality of serious relationships. It is also the highest form of entertainment known to trollkind.”

“Lanque, that’s our friend and their moirail, not entertainment!” Lynera hisses.

“My dearest Lynera, I said their situation is funny, not the people themselves. There’s a difference.”

“Not really!”

“Oh, shush. You wouldn’t know what humor is if it slapped your ass and insulted your lusus.”

“And you wouldn’t know what being a decent person is like if it put you on evenings for the rest of the sweep for cavern duties.”

Oh, boy. You lean back as Lanque turns to glare at Lynera with utter disdain, but thankfully Micah and Polypa put a stop to the fistfight that would no doubt have happened by wrapping up their argument.

“Well, I’ve just received word that an old associate who makes electro-bombs is back in town from vacation. I think I’m going to pay him a visit,” Polypa huffs, brushing by Micah with her head held high.

They splutter. “Fine! You do that. A-And be careful!”

“I will!”

“Good!”

“Text somebody we both know as soon as you leave so I know you’re safe!”

“Fine! I was going to do that anyways.”

“You better.”

Polypa slams the door behind her, only to reemerge and glare around the corner at her moirail. “Love you. Take a shower.”

She runs off before Micah can get the last word.

“What’s up with everybody telling me to take a shower!” they yell, throwing their hands up in the air. “I try, okay? Not my fault I’m a stinky little human!”

“Do you want to use my shower?” Lynera offers.

“... Yeah. Thanks.”

You nod, satisfied. “My work here is done.”

Deciding Micah is in good hands and that Lanque and Lynera aren’t going to rip each other’s throats out, you race up the stairs and out of the study to go find the scary oliveblood girl who is also somehow your alien friend’s moirail.

There’s something you need to ask her.

By the time you catch up to her she’s already out of the caverns and making her way down the trail to the city, but you don’t let that stop you. Her legs are way longer than yours, so you have to jog to keep up.

She gives you a confused look as you fall into step alongside her. It’s always been pretty funny to you how other castes really have no idea how to interact with trolls younger than them. “Uh, aren’t you supposed to be back underground?”

“My bio class doesn’t start for another half hour. I gotta ask you something.”

“Yeah?”

“So, I wanna fight too, right? Like, in the rebellion with you guys! But Lanque says I’m too young. So can you tell me how I can be a part of everything, too?”

Polypa slows before coming to a halt. “Kid, look. As much as I’d happily shove Bombyx off a rooftop, I have to say he’s in the right about this one. You should feel lucky you have a reason to not get involved in all this shit.”

Anger makes your lips curl up. “Wow. And I thought you might actually be cool.”

“Manipulation doesn’t work on me, but nice try.”

“Come on, you have to give me something!”

“... How about this?” She squats down a little to look you in the eye. “Go enjoy your wigglerhood for all the kids who don’t get to. It’ll be over before you know it, believe me. Have fun, make a lot of friends, see if there are any other jades who might be interested in making the world a better place. It’s the little things that count.”

She’s gone before you can respond, and then it’s just you and the steady patter of rain that’s starting to sting your skin.

You don’t even bother to pretend to listen to Lynera’s scolding as she meets you at the cave entrance with a towel. Polypa’s words ring around the insides of your pan like church bells.To be more specific, the last thing she said.

You’re still wet when you go to class with a towel around your shoulders and without a single bit of motivation to actually listen to the instructor, but for the first time since this whole thing started, a little spark of hope warms you from the inside out.

Your name is Wanshi Adyata, and you’re going to lead the first jadeblood rebellion in Alternian history.

#hiveswap #hiveswap friendsim #pesterquest #c19 #the guardian #jadebloods #Wanshi adyata #mspa reader #homestuck #riverbound #polypa goezee

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friendshipcampaign · 4 years

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Sanctuary

Sometimes you’re a DM and you think, “Hm! I’m having a lot of emotions about a conversation between two NPCs that none of my player characters would be around for! Perhaps I shall write a short drabble!” and then then next thing you know you’re well over 4k words deep into your OCs Talking About Their Feelings. Well: here are those words.

NPC downtime between Demonology Prevention League agents Creed and Thodri, set during the street festival in Veritas the day after the Friendship Campaign party banished the demons from the city.

The streets of Veritas were filled with the sounds of reveling. Bonfires crackled and the foods roasting on them sizzled and dripped. Stallkeepers hawked and haggled and called out to each other. Music drifted through the square, accompanied by the stomping and shouting of the dancers. Every few moments, someone decided to raise a tankard in a cheer, which would echo through the crowd before getting lost in the tumult. Everything was loud and bright and everyone was celebrating.

Thodri didn’t trust it for a minute.

She scanned the crowds around her as she and Creed made their way to the watch-house the DPL had commandeered as a temporary headquarters, looking for—she didn’t know. A familiar face that shouldn’t be there? A demon that had somehow escaped the Banishment? Some magical trap left untriggered in the previous day’s battle—or a freshly placed one?

Creed, strolling along beside her, didn’t seem to have any such worries.

“You wouldn’t believe the kind of decorations they have upstairs! Y’know, a lot of houses like that, they put the most impressive stuff out where they can show it off to everyone who comes in, but that place just gets more opulent the farther you go!”

Thodri grunted, pretending that she’d been listening to her companion’s non-stop chatter about the Zisisvoynis’ decór. She supposed it was easier to appreciate its opulence when your first visit there wasn’t for a party where your tentative allies had decided to attempt to trap a bunch of murderous cultists. With a dragon. It was probably also easier if you were Creed, who had much more of a taste for extravagance than she ever would.

“It’s nothing like the main hoard, of course, and the location of that is one of those if-I-tell-you-then-I’d-have-to-kill-you secrets—”

Thodri flinched. Focus. She needed to focus. The square was too large to keep all of it in her sights and they were drawing near the middle now, the crowd pressing close on all sides. She didn’t like the feeling of so many strangers at her back.

“—But I did get a few stories about some of the artifacts. Not just gold—apparently Oktojnotviš has an ongoing feud with some other dragons over these historical Draconic texts that they each have one section of. They’re all trying to get the complete collection, but since they’re written on twenty-foot-high slabs of stone that were cut from an ancient cave wall there’s been a wee bit of trouble with that.”

The bonfire burning behind the skeletal remnants of the elephant-demon cast flickering shadows over the bones that looked just enough like movement when caught from the corner of her eye that Thodri kept snapping her head around to look. No. The bones were still. Dead. Parts of them were still tethered to the ground by long pieces of jagged wire.

“Hey.”

Creed lowered his arms, which he’d been waving as he spoke in his customary sweeping gestures. Thodri always joked that he could never visit her home caverns under the mountains because with the way he walked he’d end up bruising his hands—and his head—black and blue in the dwarf-sized tunnels.

“You doing all right, Footnotes?”

“I’m fine,” Thodri retorted, continuing to wind her way through the square so that despite his long legs, Creed had to half-skip a few steps to catch up to her.

“Well, something must be wrong because I was just telling you about some extremely old and interesting writings and you didn’t even bat an eye.”

“There’s a lot to do.” More shouts rang out from behind them, and Thodri whirled just in time to see a burly woman with a barrel of ale on her shoulder raise up her hand in a cheer. All right. No threat. She turned back to Creed.

“. . . And now you’re sounding like Aurelia.”

“I am not—” Thodri snapped, before catching herself and letting out a long, tense sigh. “I’m . . . worried. That’s all.”

“About?”

Thodri threw up her hands. “I don’t know! Everything? Somebody has to be since you’re acting like you don’t have a care in the world!”

She glared out into the crowd again. She couldn’t lose focus. Couldn’t miss anything. She could hear Creed’s footsteps beside her as the two of them walked in silence for a moment, making it out to where the crowd was thinner. She felt nervous about leaving the square unwatched, but they had to get on to where Aurelia was waiting and see what information they could get out of yesterday’s captives. If there was some other plot yet to be sprung . . .

“Are you . . . mad at me?” Creed asked. She could tell he had his head cocked in confusion but she didn’t look up to meet his eyes.

“No! Maybe! I don’t know!”

“Well, that’s quite the spectrum, certainly. I appreciate you didn’t go straight to ‘yes,’ but—”

“I thought you were dead!” she blurted out.

Creed stopped in his tracks and blinked at her. He looked almost as surprised at her outburst as she was. She stared back at him, wide-eyed, with her hand clapped over her mouth.

“What . . . last night? I didn’t—”

“No!” The blood was rushing in Thodri’s ears and she she could feel the terror she’d been trying to push down all day building within her. She’d lowered her hand to let out the interjection and now without that barrier in place more words were trying to flood out in a torrent she couldn’t control. “You were missing and I thought you were dead and it was my fault and I couldn’t even remember what had happened, and Aurelia kept trying to be so nice to me that I thought I would scream, and the rest of them just stopped talking about you after Ráalu used the past tense once and I had to run out of the room during an interrogation and—”

“Hey.” She felt Creed’s hands settle gently on her shoulders. “Hey, it’s all right. You got me back, didn’t you?”

“I-I know,” Thodri stammered. “We got you back and I thought maybe I could be less afraid, but I got complacent and let my guard down and that thing that was pretending to be Kasia got me and then I wasn’t—”

She shivered for a moment as she remembered the sensation of mindlessness, of her eyes and ears being as sharp as ever but not being able to make sense of anything she saw and heard, of being stripped of her words and her thoughts and her understanding in a way that made her blanch with fear to recall, but that at the time she hadn’t even been able to comprehend enough to be horrified. That might have been the worst part. That she hadn’t known—hadn’t been able to know—what had happened to her. That once the others had left her curled up with Creed in their pocket dimension she’d felt . . . safe. She’d felt happy.

Creed’s fingernails dug into the back of her shoulders. A few streets over, the musicians finished a song and a distant cheer went up. Thodri’s voice was getting higher and louder and people were probably staring but she couldn’t make herself stop.

“—I wasn’t there and I couldn’t help you and Palava had to call on so much power from his god to get me back and I couldn’t even get any omens—”

She was aware that Creed was speaking, but it felt almost the way speech had when her mind was shattered. The sounds were there but there was no sense to them. She let him push her, gently, back out of the way of the crowd until there was stone at her back and the sounds of the celebration were muffled.

“—and then the creature showed up and I thought—I thought, this is it, this is the thing that’s going to kill us, and it almost felt better because at least I wasn’t wondering anymore, but then Kriv defeated it and we didn’t die and it—it’s over, it’s gone, all the demons are gone and everyone’s celebrating but I don’t . . . I don’t know how to stop being afraid!”

She looked at Creed, helplessly, through burning eyes. He loomed over her, his head cocked to one side and the crystal growths on his left horn glinting in the light.

“It feels like every time I relax something worse happens. And then last night I was trying so hard to feel like we were all safe; I was trying to relax and enjoy myself and be happy, and then you took one look at the most dangerous thing in the room and decided to throw yourself at it and it . . .” she trailed off, the river of words drying up as she wondered how she could convey the sudden, absurd spike of fear that had gripped her, that still thrummed under her skin even though Creed was fine, she was fine, everything was . . .

“It . . . made me afraid again,” she finished lamely.

As the silence stretched out between them, Thodri let her head drop and took in a deep, shuddering breath. “I’m . . . sorry. I know it’s ridiculous and I know you were probably going to be fine and I need to learn how to pull myself together, and I certainly didn’t mean to go quite so . . . babbly. About everything.”

“Hey.” Creed crouched down so their faces were almost level, still holding her by the shoulders. She’d been expecting him to look . . . frustrated, at least, the sort of expression he wore when Aurelia was being particularly obtuse, and she was ready to flinch away from it, but she could see nothing but concern in his lavender eyes.

Then one corner of his mouth turned up in a smile which Thodri found herself instinctively but tentatively mirroring, and he said, “All right, more than a few points of contention with all that. First things first, I don’t think it’s fair to say I ‘threw myself’ at him, and I’ll have you know I took several looks before I made any decisions.”

Thodri let out a bark of surprised laughter, which she suspected from the way he beamed at her had been Creed’s plan in the first place. He straightened up and pointed towards one of the little green parks behind them.

“Shall we sit down?”

Thodri bit her lip. “I don’t want to keep Aurelia waiting too long . . .”

“Well that does it!” Creed clapped her on the back. “I definitely want to keep Aurelia waiting. She needs the rest. Come on!”

Thodri let Creed lead her around the groups of pedestrians heading to and from the festival and out onto the grass. He found a stone bench—an old one, Thodri noted, but of decent workmanship—and sprawled across one end of it, gesturing for Thodri to join him.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t realize you were having . . . such a hard time.”

Thodri laughed again, a brittle edge to it.

“I don’t think I did either, honestly. I didn’t realize a lot of it until . . . now, really. I thought I was just being stupid and I could joke about it and I’d calm down. I—I even thought it was working; I had a nice time with Kriv and his goat, but then I tried to go to sleep and I couldn’t stop . . . thinking about all of it. Of being afraid that it was only a matter of time until something worse happened. That—that if I let myself get complacent it would all fall apart.”

“Listen.” Creed stretched an arm along the back of the bench in a clear invitation, but he didn’t touch her. With a sigh, Thodri leaned into him and pulled his arm down around her shoulders. “Of course you’re afraid. It makes sense to be afraid. This city was overrun with demons until just a little before this time yesterday. That’s a lot for anyone to handle, and for weeks of it you didn’t even have me around to help you with my worldly experience and sparkling wit!”

“I . . . I know,” said Thodri. “Again, I’m sorry—”

“Thodri.” Creed loosened the grip of his arm just enough that he could look directly into Thodri’s face. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, love.”

“But I could—”

“We walked into a trap, Thodri. Both of us. I think it was . . .” Creed’s fingers wandered to his symbol of Tymora and began to spin it absently back and forth. “. . . Lucky that I was the one they caught.”

In response to Thodri’s disbelieving snort he continued, “One of us was useful to them. Fuel for the mine. They had reasons to want to keep me alive. Horrifying reasons, I’ll grant you! But reasons nonetheless. If you’d been the one who was trapped . . .”

They sat in silence for a brief moment, and then Creed let go of his holy symbol and smacked the heel of his hand into his forehead.

“Real encouraging talk, this is! Here I was going to try to calm you down and instead I start blabbing about even more things that could have killed you!”

“No, it . . . it’s okay.” Thodri nestled further into his shoulder. “It does make me feel better, actually, in a strange way. I thought Tymora had abandoned you, but maybe she was looking out for both of us after all.”

“Aye.” Creed wrapped his arm tighter around her. “Or maybe she did whiff it and it worked out regardless; that happens too.”

Thodri chuckled. “I don’t know that I’ll ever get used to your irreverance.”

“Oh, she loves it! Your sort of devotion would be terribly boring to a luck goddess. Can’t show off her powers unless her followers are the sort of people to take big risks.”

Thodri looked up, tracing the dappled outlines of the leaves on the branches above them. She’d been away from the mountains for years, but the trees and the open sky still felt strange to her. They were never as comforting as the darkness of her home had been. She closed her eyes.

“Is that what last night was about, then? Big and completely unnecessary risks?”

She felt Creed shrug. “I suppose. Although I will say that most of the appeal there was being free to take a big risk that wasn’t likely to get me killed if I got it wrong.”

Thodri could feel her heart beginning to pound again, the drumbeat of not-safe-not-safe-not-safe that had haunted her since the night she and Creed had walked into a trap and she alone had come out of it. She let it beat, forcing herself not to hitch her breath to it. It was dark and safe behind her eyelids, and Creed’s arm was warm around her.

“I think . . . after everything being so dangerous for so long, it’s hard to feel like anything might not be a matter of deadly peril.” She contemplated for a moment. “Also you didn’t see him at the last party, where he was . . . very distinctly terrifying.”

Creed’s chin bumped against the top of her head as he nodded. “No, that’s fair, that’s fair. If it makes you feel any better, the first thing he did once we got to his chambers was sit me down to talk about boundaries and expectations for like half an hour, so . . .”

Thodri snorted. “That does make me feel better, yes! He’s . . . certainly full of surprises.”

“The first half of it was about how I shouldn’t expect anything long-term to come of it since his heart and soul are still undyingly bound to his wife, whose virtues he extolled at some length.”

Thodri drew her feet up on the bench and leaned back, watching the sunlight tint her vision red.

“See, that part doesn’t surprise me at all.”

“His body, on the other hand—”

Creed squawked as Thodri smacked a hand at his free arm.

“Nope,” she said firmly. “If you want to share any more details, you can go talk to Amaranth.”

“Fair enough.” Creed leaned his head over to rest it on top of Thodri’s, carefully maneuvering his horn so it wouldn’t catch in her hair. Tymora’s symbol bumped against her shoulder. A breeze sprang up, rustling the leaves of the tree above them.

“. . . So,” said Creed after a moment. “Aurelia was nice to you?”

Thodri groaned. “I hated it! She’s supposed to be all gruff and angry and disapproving but she kept trying to be . . . gentle with me.”

Aurelia had been the first member of the DPL to arrive after Thodri dragged herself up out of the tunnels, showing up out of breath and already starting to yell. “Where’s the idiot?” she had snapped when she first saw Thodri. And Thodri had been expecting something like that, so she only trembled a little as she explained about the tip and the tunnel and the trap and how Creed had pushed her back to safety when the walls came tumbling in. And she’d been expecting Aurelia to demand to see the collapse, so she led the way back down with her conjured light hardly flickering and waited while the woman shouted and kicked at the falling rocks. But then she’d expected Aurelia to shout at her too, to demand what they’d been thinking and why they’d been so stupid and why Thodri hadn’t made Creed follow the protocol and tell the rest of them where they were going, why Thodri hadn’t found some way to stop it—and so when, instead, Aurelia had turned away from the collapsed tunnel with a curse and seen Thodri standing there and simply muttered, “Damn it. I’m sorry, kid,” when Aurelia had moved in to try, inexpertly, to hug her . . . Thodri had completely fallen apart.

“Sounds awful,” said Creed.

“Yeah. The yelling is better.”

And the yelling had come, just not at her. Thodri found that Aurelia’s view of her had shifted from an errant recruit that she needed to keep away from bad influences (meaning Creed), to some kind of broken child too fragile to discipline and too foolish to listen to. With everyone else Aurelia had gotten harsher, but she would shoo Thodri out of the room before tearing into her coworkers and make her stand back when they went to investigate demonic incidents.

“If she’s not going to listen to me,” Thodri continued, “I’d rather she be angry than just . . . patronizing.”

“Well,” said Creed, “Stick with me and I doubt that’ll be your problem for long! She’s had no trouble being angry with yours truly, even after I mysteriously returned from the presumed-dead.”

“She cried about you,” said Thodri, remembering what else she’d seen when she’d brought Aurelia into the tunnel. “Just a little, but . . .”

She opened her eyes just in time to catch the delighted, devilish grin spreading across Creed’s face. “Oh, Footnotes,” he said. “Your knowledge, as always, is a treasure.”

“Don’t be too hard on her for it,” Thodri said. “Or at least wait until she really deserves it.”

“Noted.” Creed looked up at the sky. “However the rest of them treated you, it looks to me like you handled yourself pretty well while I was gone.”

“Oh, I . . . don’t know about that.” Thodri laughed nervously and let out a hissing breath between her teeth. “I went behind everyone’s backs and contacted a group of people I hardly knew who were wanted for fraternizing with demons and blowing up a building because I had a hunch, and then I met up with them alone at night without telling anyone where I’d gone. I shared classified DPL data; I used my badge for extremely unauthorized investigation; I ignored my actual assignments to go running on a wild goose chase after you . . .”

Creed wrapped his tail tight around her waist. “And you found me. And your gambles paid off, so either you’re smarter than you give yourself credit for or Tymora was keeping an eye out for you until I could get back and do it myself. Or maybe both! Anyway, I’m hardly going to scold you for going behind Aurelia’s back. I’m impressed that you managed to take so many of my lessons to heart!”

“You are the worst influence,” said Thodri, and then laughed and pushed him away when he brought up the tufted end of his tail to tickle her nose.

“And proud of it!” He turned towards her and his smile softened into something less playful. “And I’m proud of you.”

Thodri didn’t know what to say. She wished she was as quick with her jokes as he was and could come up with something to deflect the uncharacteristic earnestness in his face.

“I’m sorry you had to deal with so much of this on your own,” Creed continued. “When you joined I promised I’d look after you, and I haven’t exactly done the best job of it.”

“Creed.” Thodri took one of his hands in hers. “Sometimes you really are an idiot. You were captured by devil worshipers who put you to work in a hell mine. As far as excuses for not being around to look after me go, I think that’s a pretty solid one.”

Creed quirked his head to the side in a half-shrug. “Aye. But then you and your friends broke us out, and on my very first day back I . . . nearly lost you. Doesn’t make me feel particularly confident in my abilities.”

His grip on her hand was almost uncomfortably tight, and it reminded Thodri of the way he’d held her when she was under the Feeblemind, that same stubborn refusal to let go.

“And then Palava got me back,” she said.

Creed sighed. “He did. Y’know, I think I need to have a bit of a chat with Tymora about gaining mastery of that particular ritual. It’s not a great look having her shown up by some elf god.”

“It’s not a competition, Creed.”

“Eh, to some of ‘em it is. And he won’t always be around, but I . . . well. I’ll do my best to be.”

Thodri let go of Creed’s hand and wrapped her arms around him, drawing him into a tight hug.

“I’ll do my best too. I . . . know you’ll watch my back.”

He nodded and squeezed her. “And you’ll watch mine.”

After a moment he added, “And, much as I like to think we can handle things on our own, it’s nice to know some other people was can call in if things get rough who are better at dealing with all of this than, y’know, Aurelia.”

Thodri nodded vigorously. “It’s very good. Yes. Although, speaking of Aurelia . . .”

“Nooooo,” wailed Creed quietly, and Thodri laughed.

“We really ought to get back to her, and to our jobs. Come on! You’ve exerted your bad influence and made us both terribly late, so now it’s my turn to be the good influence and ensure we turn up for work at all.”

Creed flopped back dramatically over the bench, an arm draped over his forehead. “How could you?” he cried, although he didn’t protest further as Thodri pulled him to his feet and began to set off towards the new address. Behind them, the musicians in the square began another song.

“Hey Creed?”

“What is it, Footnotes?”

Thodri opened and shut her mouth once or twice, trying to pin down what it was she wanted to ask.

“Do you really think things are safe now?”

Creed took a step towards her and caught her up in a sideways hug, squeezing her tight before the difference in their strides meant he had to either let go or be pulled to the ground.

“Listen,” he said. “You signed up for a job that’s mostly boring interviews and paperwork with occasional terrifying interludes of charging ill-prepared into deadly situations. Safe isn’t exactly in the job description.”

“Comforting.”

“But, as I was going to say if you’d let me finish, despite all that . . . yes. I think the demons are really gone. I think we’ve got a lot of cleaning up to do, and I think we’ll have to keep our eyes open for some of those non-demonic entities who are probably not very happy with us right now. But compared to yesterday, Thodri? Compared to every other day we’ve spent in this city? I think it’s fair to say that it’s much, much safer. And I think it’s okay to be happy about that, at least until the next deadly situation comes up.”

“And embrace the boring paperwork instead?”

“Thodri, no . . .”

“You know how much I love boring paperwork!”

Creed shook his head. “I absolutely do not and never will understand you.”

“Well, Dumathoin will be very happy about that. He’s an enigma and as his cleric I have a duty to share in this aspect.”

“An enigma who likes paperwork!”

Thodri laughed as they rounded the next corner and Seeker’s Square, with its dancing and bonfires and celebrations, faded from view behind them. She spared herself one last glance backwards and, for the first time that day, allowed herself to truly enjoy the sight.

Then she turned and hurried after Creed. The city had been saved, and they had work to do.

#downtime #npc downtime #creed #thodri

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camwritesbooks · 6 years

Text

Fictober Day #5: “Take what you need.”

OC: Eve (POV) - Deus

Word count: 1084

About: So this basically turned into the first half of the first chapter of Deus? Oh well, I’ll take it. Meet Eve, the Terran healer gifted with magic powers. And welcome to Melford! totally not based on my home city melbourne whoops

Eve stepped into the light of the streetlamp, brushing her pale hair out of her face and gazing out into the darkness. At the end of the street she saw the warm glow of the night market, alive and bustling with people despite the late hour. It was a strange flicker of life in a quiet, sleeping city. She felt its inviting light drawing her in, but doubt kept her back. Even in the peaceful market, there could be people looking to cause trouble.

“‘Ey, love!” called a drunk man from across the street. “Fancy a drink?”

I swear to Deus, can’t I get a moment of peace? “Not likely!” she replied over her shoulder, heading down the street towards the market. Thanks for making my mind up for me. She pulled her hood up as she walked, covering her silvery-grey hair beneath her cloak. It made her stick out too much, and tonight she especially wanted to fly under the radar. For years she’d considered changing her hair colour, but hadn’t really ever mustered up the courage to dye it. It was too much of her to get rid of, even temporarily.

The market was filled with sellers, tourists and intoxicated young men waving their arms around like they thought they were professional dancers. She wound her way through the crowds of people, avoiding eye contact.

“Good evening,” she said politely, stopping at a falafel stand. “Could I have three please?”

“‘Course, dear,” the woman behind the stand replied in a slight accent, smiling. She passed over three of the falafels, wrapped in paper. “Three specks.”

Eve passed over the bronze coins with a quick thanks, biting into the food gratefully. Yep, right choice, this was worth it. The food in Melford was its best feature, really. There was no one true cuisine on the small island because everyone there had come from somewhere else.

The apothecary stall was her next target. One of her usual haunts - the small store was rarely busy and less hostile towards her. It was a place where she could actually speak openly about her job and sometimes talk to other fey, if they were around.

A sharp hiss to her right drew her attention and she saw a young man jump back from the grill he was working at, clutching his hand. Eve felt the urge to reach out and use her gift to help him. If this wasn’t such a public place, she would. But you could never tell how someone would react to healing. Most were grateful and considered it a bit of a miracle, but some could be afraid or angry. Unless they bore a mark of a magic school or group, it wasn’t safe.

Strangely, Crell wasn’t at his stall. The apothecary was presided over by a twenty-something-year-old man, who was busy drawing in a notebook.

“Hey,” she greeted, removing her hood. Her long silver hair fell into her face, and she brushed it out of the way. She really should cut it.

The man looked up from his work, eyes widening. “Faerie,” he murmured softly, catching sight of her hair and the symbol of her pendant, which had come free from her dress. He looked terrified. “Just uh, take what you need,” he said, gesturing at the wares on the table before him.

Oh Deus. “I’m not a faerie,” Eve said lightly, “I’m fey. And I don’t steal.”

The man opened his mouth to say something else, but was cut off by someone coming out from behind the drapes at the back of the stall. Crell, thank Deus.

“Ry, what’s going on here?” Crell asked. “Ah, Eve, I’m glad to see you.”

The young man glanced up at the older one, looking slightly bewildered. “Oh, sorry Unc. I didn’t realise you knew her.” He grabbed his notebook and pencil, leaving his post with a confused look at Crell.

“Give you much trouble?” Crell asked, setting down a pack of glass bottles and starting to unpack them.

“Oh no, he’s just rather misinformed,” she said. “Your nephew, I take it?”

Crell nodded. “My sister’s boy Ry. It’s his first night, it’s taking a bit of getting used to. How are you going.”

“Well, you know,” she said around a mouthful of falafel, “it’s alright, I guess. We’re doing well at the hospital. I’ve been feeling okay the past few weeks.”

“That’s good to hear.”

She glanced at the bench, unsure whether she should bring up the reason she was actually here tonight. But Crell knew a lot of fey, so maybe he would have the answers. “Something’s coming, right? We had a patient - another fey - yesterday, who just came from the Eastern Continents. And they were saying how the faeries there were talking about trouble that wasn’t to do with humans or anything, but old magic. I was just wondering if you’ve heard anything about that?”

Crell grimaced. “I heard some chatter, yeah. They reckon it’s to do with whatever went down a few years ago up north, when the passage across the mountains opened up.”

“Hmm.” Eve pretended to browse some of the items on sale.

“You looking for anything?”

Eve glanced up at Crell. “Uh, I’ll take some burn serum, if you’ve got any.”

Crell nodded and went back behind the drapes to find the serum, leaving Eve standing there alone. No one else seemed to be at the stall today, which was a bit unusual. Some other people who looked possibly fey hung around at the end of that row of stands, but she didn’t really feel like approaching them, honestly.

The sound of yelling and police whistles filled the air, coming from the north. The main square, maybe? Eve bit her lip, trying to see through the cramped market to the square. Something was going on.

“Hey, Crell,” she called into the space behind the stall, but he didn’t reply.

She looked back towards the sounds. All of her instincts were telling her to go towards the commotion in case somebody was hurt. Why do I always run head first into danger? She stood there for another few seconds, hoping that maybe it would all die down and she could take her serum and go home. Unfortunately the screaming continued, and Eve knew she was about to do something possibly quite stupid. But everything in her was screaming go, that’s where you’re supposed to be, and Eve new from experience that her instincts were often right.

#fictober18 #mybookisbadfictober18 #eve #deus wip #excerpts #my writing

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mallowwrites · 7 years

Text

A Heart’s Thoughts - Part Three

Synopsis: Everyone has their own two powers, but it’s up to luck whether you’ll end up being tortured for it or not.

Welcome to our little Empowered village, the place where you’ll learn to use your powers for good- or, that’s what we were told.

Pairing: Chanyeol x (female) OC

Word count: 1690

<– Previous || next –>

“Thank you again for helping me, both of you,” Cecilia flashed Yixing- who’d just helped ease the pain- and Jongdae a smile, “so, you’re Jongdae, right?”

He nodded and Cecilia smiled contently, “I didn’t know you two knew eachother. I must’ve been lucky to have had the both of you when I needed you.”

Chanyeol’s pained voice rang through her mind and she was about to mention it to Yixing, but she stopped herself just in time. Just because she knew it wasn’t a reason to let everyone else know.

“Do you think they’re done with training now?”

Jongdae was about to answer her, but the large crowd walking towards the cafeteria was enough to answer her question.

“Hey, Cecilia, how about you join us for lunch? Now that this awkward border between males and females has been lifted, you might as well get to know some guys so you could train with them,” Yixing offered with a small smile.

“Do you guys usually eat in crowded places?”

Yixing shook his head and nudged Jongdae, “Jongdae here is also sensitive to sounds. Or actually, he can sense any kind of waves, and in crowded places that can be a bit… overwhelming.”

Jongdae looked down and Yixing just smiled fondly at him before turning to Cecilia, “just come, I’m pretty sure you’re going to like all of us.”

Cecilia thought about it for a moment before nodding and following the two to a table outside the cafeteria, where a group of boys was gathered together. Someone noticed the three and started waving.

“Ah Baekhyun, how was training?” Yixing asked with a small smile, and Baekhyun beamed, “I was about to tell you, it seems we all found new friends!”

Baekhyun noticed Jongdae and let out a triumphant sound, “Oh! Oh! Jongdae has met her, too! There was this girl at training and she was pretty cool. It was hard fighting against her because she could see the future.”

Cecilia looked up at the mention of seeing the future and let out a surprised yelp, “you befriended Clover?”

Baekhyun looked a bit startled at her and nodded, “yeah, but how do you know her? Wait, who are you actually? Yixing?” He looked up at Yixing for an explanation, but Cecilia spoke up before he could.

“I’m Cecilia, living in the same dorm as Yixing and Kyungsoo. Clover is my best friend and she lives in the same apartment as I do.”

She said this while trying to look past the wall the boys had set up in front of her, to try to spot Clover. Instead, she spotted someone else. Felicia. For the second time since arriving at this table, Cecilia let out a surprised yelp.

“Felicia! What are you doing here?”

Felicia looked up in shock and looked around until she saw Cecilia and smiled as she started waving at her, “I met Kyungsoo during training and he said he’s good friends with you and Clover, so I made him my victim for four hours.”

Kyungsoo stood next to her and chuckled as he looked down at the ground. Cecilia averted her gaze when she saw a familiar figure in a red shirt pushing her way through the small crowd.

“Annabelle! Did you also catch onto these guys during training?”

She chuckled and shook her head, “nope, Junmyeon and Sehun here live in my dorm and I pretty much spent summer with them.”

She pointed at two boys who seemed to be in a heated discussion, but as soon as they noticed the attention was on them, they fell silent. Cecilia chuckled as she caught on to what their discussion was about, and felt the urge to butt in and tell the truth about who’d left the half-eaten apple on the nightstand, but she stopped herself. Instead, she turned her attention to the boys, “what are all of your powers actually?”

“Okay so, Junmyeon is water, Sehun is air, Kyungsoo is earth, and we have Minseok who’s frost and Jongin who can teleport,” Cecilia fell silent for a moment and hesitated if she should ask about Chanyeol. “You guys have three out of four basic elements. Do you know Chanyeol? I met him a few days ago and he controls heat.”

She saw a few boys eyeing eachother and she caught onto a few thoughts, confirming her suspicions; these were Chanyeol’s friends.

“Yeah, we know Chanyeol. He’s our friend but he prefers to spend his lunch breaks alone, somewhere near the borders of out campus.”

Junmyeon was the one who explained the situation, and to Cecilia’s surprise, he wasn’t lying about how Chanyeol spent his time.

“He must’ve kept it hidden..” She mumbled to herself and she saw Jongdae’s head perk up, but he remained silent as he stared at her.

Cecilia quickly smiled and turned her attention back to the boys, “would you guys mind if us four girls spend more time with all of you from now on? It’d be nice if we could get to know eachother better.”

The next day, Cecilia walked a bit ahead of time towards her next class, and when she turned the corner, she bumped into someone, causing her books to fall down, along with herself and her earbuds. She closed her eyes to try and mute the incoming wave of sounds as she searched the floor for her earbuds. Her skin started tingling and a moment later, she felt her earbuds being softly pushed back into her ears before someone put pressure on them, effectively shutting out the majority of sounds. She put her hands over those that were covering her ears and relaxed as she opened her eyes again and looked up.

She let out a breath as she saw a kind, slightly worried face in front of her. Chanyeol’s face.

“Wow.”

He smiled a little when he noticed she was alright, and she saw his ears perk up, “don’t wow me, I only put your earbuds back in.” He spoke in a slightly mocking manner as his smile widened.

Cecilia laughed softly at his response, “wow.”

He started laughing, “I heard from Junmyeon that a girl who’s overly sensitive to sounds was looking for me yesterday,” a happy glint appeared in his eyes as he spoke up again, “it’s nice to meet you again, Cecilia from the Mind class.”

He glanced at his hands and started tickling behind Cecilia’s ears, drawing out a surprised gasp as she let go of his hands. Chanyeol chuckled and started collecting her books, which were scattered on the ground.

“Are you okay? You fell pretty hard just now.”

Cecilia smiled a little as she joined him, “don’t worry, I have enough body fat to break such a fall.”

He glanced at her as he continued to collect her books and mumbled, “I don’t see enough body fat to break a fall…”

He handed Cecilia her books with a smile and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

“So, what brings you here?”

“Oh, I’m just walking to my history class. What about you, though? I thought you said you like to roam around the school?”

Chanyeol gave her a surprised look, “wait, you’re also having History class next? Are we in the same class?”

Cecilia frowned and took her schedule out of her bag, “are you in class 203?”

Chanyeol’s eyes lit up and he nodded happily, “I do! Wow, we’re in the same class!”

Cecilia chuckled at his excitement and the thought that crossed his mind, and she decided to be nice for once and take the lead.

“Hey Chanyeol, would you mind sitting next to me in class from now on?”

His smile widened and he gripped the strap of his backpack, “I don’t mind at all!”

But contrary to the excitement on the outside, Cecilia noticed a concerned though that rung through his mind.

This should be okay. This isn’t dangerous.

The best way to waste time at night, was to walk around in the school. It was silent and dark, leaving no need for either shades or earbuds.

“I can’t believe I’ve never done this before in the three years I’ve spent on this school.”

Although all lights in the school were off, Cecilia noticed light peeking out from under a closed door. She was about to approach it, but stopped dead in her tracks as the door opened and slammed shut shortly after. She’d closed her eyes when the door opened, but when she looked, she saw a tall figure walking through the hallway, and she immediately recognized who it was.

It hurts. I’m tired. I wish somebody would find me now- wait, no, no one can find me that’d only cause trouble. I have to get back before anyone notices I’m gone.

Cecilia heard his voice clearly in her head and for once, she’d wished she could talk back and serve as that little voice that sometimes comes by to give people hope. She wanted to approach him, help him, but she doubted he was thinking nonsense, and she certainly didn’t want to cause trouble. Not for herself, and not for this boy.

She turned around and walked in the opposite direction from him, back to her dorm and she realized that this was why she’s never walked through the school at night before.

She took a detour back to her dorms, having put her shades and earbuds back on, and when she approached the building, she saw a figure standing in front of the entrance, and a few steps closer made clear that it was the very person she’d wanted to avoid to stay out of trouble. Chanyeol.

She was about to speed up her pace, but even from a distance, she saw him turn his head before running away.

“Oh, that’s right, he can sense presences,” Cecilia mumbled to herself as she lift her brow, “but why was he standing in front of the entrance in the first place?”

Just as she entered, she connected the dots.

He was hurt. Yixing lives here. He wanted help. No, he needed help.

A/N: Part three is finally here! It took a bit longer than expected to reach 30 notes on the last part, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to change it, so for this part we need 30 notes once again. I know we can do it! Also, any form of feedback is highly appreciated, just try to keep it nice~

Tagging: @youwishiwasyoursaas @lunarjihoon @biaswreckers-inc@kunpimookbambam @fluffyshua @kouhyi @changgudforyou@bymenneske @ravyeolii @sanhacuddles @angel-gryffindor @mans-ayyye@vallikesgivinghugs @baekshitbyun @i-mweakforchangkyun @remeis @prince-soulee @starrykyung

#A heart's Thoughts #exowritersnet #angst #fluff #action #romance #college au #supernatural au #chanyeol #exo #fanfiction #kpop #mine #my writing

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