#the last one is not big cat not tree not comfortable-looking but still feels relevant | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

splintergirl13 · 3 years

Note

So here is a little head cannon I thought of while reading your fan fic.

What if herobrine never had/celebrated his birthday so he forgot when it was, so Steve and Alex pick a day and celebrate his birthday with him. (P.s. sorry I have horrific grammer)

I liked this idea so much I made a little drabble under the read more :3 I hope it is worthy of such an great headcanon! Thank you so much for the ask! It fills me with joy to hear that people are thinking about my story lol <3. And don't worry. Grammar is hard and doesn't make any sense. I feel your pain

Before we dive in: this takes place pretty earlier into Steve and Brine becoming friends. So they are just starting to pine. Not in a relationship yet. Alex and Brine are still a little wary of each other but have come to accept that they are stuck with each other.

I'd say this is rated teen for just some small strong language lol

The Birthday Brine

It was a hot, lazy summer afternoon. Too nice to spend down in the mines. But a little too warm to do any strenuous activities.

So Alex and Steve decided to go on down to the small river they frequented on days like today. A secluded area where the water pooled deep enough to swim. And, of course, Herobrine tagged along. As was becoming more of the norm these days.

Steve was lying comfortably in the shade of a few trees on the bank of the river. Legs in the water; small waves lapped up to his knees as the water went by. Arms crossed behind his head. His shirt was off and laid over his eyes, shutting out any of the light that filtered through the leaves. Not really dozing off, but close to it.

Herobrine was similarly relaxing. He lay on his belly; balanced precariously on a nearby tree that had fallen over the river. Looking like a big cat lounging about in the direct sun. Soaking up the rays. One hand was draped down to the side, touching the cool water.

Alex was the only one fully in the river. She was a little upstream, floating on her back. She had taken off her pants, leaving them on the shore, and let her long green shirt cover her lower half. Every once in a while she would swim back to her original place as the current took her down towards Herobrine.

The trio had been chatting absentmindedly. Talking about anything, really. Steve ranted humorously about his pickaxe making a squeaking sound. Alex discussed way too many of the current happenings in town. Even Herobrine brought up that a dragonfly had landed on his shoulder. Which had the trio all staring for a bit before it flew off and they went back to their current positions.

It wasn't until a certain question came to Alex’s mind that the peace of the scene was disturbed.

"Hey Sparky." The adventurer asked. "...How old are you?"

Herobrine took a while to answer. Seeming to think through the question slowly. Finally he asked without opening his eyes. "Why?"

"Just curious." Alex shrugged, swimming a little.

The demon shifted. Now peaking over to look at Steve. It was like the miner could tell that he was being looked at because he lifted his shirt to look back questioningly.

Herobrine spoke up. "When was the last time I respawned? Four months ago?"

Steve frowned. "Yes. More like three. You fell through a roof, remember?"

"Right, right." Herobrine moved his hand up out of the water. "Terribly made and rusty old structure. Glad it forced a respawn. Tetanus is not fun even with healing powers."

"Why is this relevant?" Alex asked impatiently.

"I'm 28." Herobrine said immediately.

Alex sat up in the water. Causing a bit of a ruckus amongst some fish that had gotten close. "No you're not!"

"Yes I am." Herobrine turned his attention to her. She shuddered ever so slightly under his scrutinizing stare. "Every time I die, I respawn back to the same age at which I turned immortal."

Alex crossed her hands over her chest. "Okay, well that's only technically. I meant, like, if you count ALL the years you've been alive."

"I have no fucking clue, Alex." Herobrine rolled his head to the otherside of the tree to ignore her. Yet continued to talk. "Time loses all meaning when you're immortal. Not to mention I was trapped in the nether for most of that time. So it's even harder to tell."

"What's your best guess?" Steve asked, now curious as well.

And the head came back around. Looking at Steve. The demon wouldn't ignore the miner. He bit his lip, eyes trailing towards the water. "I dunno... maybe a few centuries... a millennia or so..."

"Old." Steve clarified. Seeing that the demon was struggling a little.

"Yeah... old." Herobrine scowled.

"So, what, do we have to, like, wait until you live a year to celebrate your birthday?" Alex giggled. "No wonder you don't remember it. It would never be your birthday based on that criteria."

Herobrine scoffed. "What are you talking about?"

"Yeah." Steve added, putting the shirt back over his eyes. "Come to think of it, when is your birthday, Brine?"

"You want to know the exact date I was born?" Herobrine sat up now, clearly confused. "Fuck... I don't know. I didn't even keep track of days back then. I just survived. It wasn't until I met... my brother that we talked about days. And he was able to do some weird 'code calculation' as he called it to figure out my true age. But we didn't really care about that. None of us counted in the aether. None of us wanted to count. When you have endless time you tend not to care. It's a depressing chore."

"So none of you celebrated your birthday?" Alex asked.

"Why would you celebrate your birth?" Herobrine growled. "Existence is a curse."

"That's why we have to celebrate!" Alex exclaimed. "It helps us mortals to forget about our fleeting existence."

"Yeah!" Steve enthusiastically raised a fist to the sky in agreement.

"Like the aether needed another reason to celebrate..." Herobrine grumbled, flopping back down on the tree. "The amount of bullshit dances I had to get dressed up for was astronomical."

"So you really have never had a birthday, huh?" Steve wasn't sure why he was surprised.

"Nope." Herobrine said, popping the p and settling back on the tree. Thinking that was the end of the conversation.

But Steve and Alex had other plans.

"Bro you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"You think we have enough time today?"

"Sure why not? We were already planning on going into town together."

"Then we better hurry."

"What are you two talking about?" Herobrine muttered. The siblings were getting out of the water and putting back on their clothes.

"We're going to throw you a birthday party!" Steve smiled over at him.

Herobrine almost fell off his branch.

"W-what? Why?"

Alex shrugged. "Well, if you don't know what day your birthday is, it might as well be any day. And since we are already all together and don't have any plans for the rest of the evening... why not?"

Herobrine teleported off his tree and stood next to the two. "You really don't need to-"

"Too late, it's happening." Alex smiled. Starting to walk off. Not putting on her shoes as she walked through the increasingly tall grass.

"Go wait in the nether and come back around sunset!" Steve pushed on his back excitedly. As if he could shove him through a portal that wasn't there.

"Why?"

"We are gonna surprise you!"

"Oh. Yippee. Surprise." Herobrine did not mask his unenthusiasm.

"It'll be fun, I promise." Steve said as he stopped pushing and went to go join Alex.

Herobrine was left alone and very confused as to what had just happened. He blinked up at the setting sun and winced. He wouldn't know the correct time in the nether. So he decided to go back to his tree branch and relax until the time came. He had no idea what was in store for him. But he didn't try to think too hard about it. If he didn't like it he could always teleport away.

All this talk of aether and age had his head buzzing with unpleasant thoughts. He tried to will them away and think of nothing instead. Watching as the river flowed beneath him. The dragonfly landed back on his hands.

It was just after sunset when Herobrine was walking up to Steve's small house and knocking on the door. Steve was adamant about him knocking. As Herobrine had the tendency to just teleport into a location, unannounced. There was the sound of muffled talking as well as a wonderful smell of something cooking in the furnace.

He heard the miner walk towards the door, he recognized his footsteps easily. Much different than Alex’s.

Steve cracked open the door. "Herobrine, you have perfect timing! We are just finishing up."

Herobrine tried to move forward but Steve closed the door more. He smiled, shyly. "Er. You gotta close your eyes."

"... Why?"

Steve smiled wider. "It's all part of the process."

So Herobrine huffed and closed his eyes. Steve took him by the hand. Leading him inside. Herobrine could feel his heartbeat where they connected. The miner was excited. So Herobrine was excited.

He was led into the house and then Steve stopped and walked over to join where he could sense Alex.

"Surprise!" They both yelled.

Herobrine stood there with his eyes closed. Face oozing confusion.

"Open your eyes now, Brine." Steve whispered loudly to him.

"Oh." And he did. He blinked and took in the sight.

The inside of the house was decorated with a few colored strings on the ceiling and what seemed to be little torches everywhere else. It was very simple and yet very pretty.

"Do you like it?" Alex asked.

"We didn't have too much time to decorate so we made due with what we had." Steve said. "Probably not as fancy as your aether parties."

"No." Herobrine smiled. "But I like this better." The aether parties were always decorated with too much. This was nice and made Herobrine feel cozy.

Alex gestured to the table, patting the chair to sit down. "Since it's pretty late we figured we'd just do a birthday dinner. Steve said you would eat if we made you food."

Herobrine nodded. Glad he hadn't had anything to eat for a while. He wasn't the biggest fan of eating. Steve had been reintroducing it to him slowly. The miner was an excellent cook.

"Good!" Alex smiled. Steve sat next to Herobrine at the table. "I handled dinner and Steve handled the most important part of a birthday, the dessert!"

"It all smells nice." Herobrine commented politely. It did. He was actually excited to eat.

Alex disappeared into the kitchen. Preparing plates for them all. Steve and Herobrine shared a look. Both smiling, somewhat uncomfortable and comfortable at the same time. It didn't last long as Alex came out with two plates, setting it down in front of them.

The meal consisted of roasted corn, slathered in butter, some sort of shredded pork on bread with some sweet sauce, and a cold potato salad. Steve instantly dug in. Probably hungry from all the work they had been doing. Herobrine waited for Alex to return with her own plate before starting to pick at the food. It wasn't long before he was eating more sloppily than Steve. Alex apologized, saying she wanted to make something more special like a smoked biscuit but Herobrine wasn't sure why she was sorry. It was all delicious. And Herobrine found himself wanting to eat the entire plate. It was the perfect meal on the warm night.

The house was filled with the delightful sounds of eating. None of them talked very much. Not needing to. Just enjoying each other’s company. And the food! They were all very invested in the food.

Once they were done, Herobrine was tempted to ask for more. But he remembered that there was still dessert to eat. He started to try to clean up his plate. But Steve stopped him immediately. "Ah, ah. No dishes when it's your birthday."

"Hmm. This birthday business keeps getting better." Herobrine smirked at him.

Steve disappeared into the kitchen and returned with two plates filled with two generous slices of homemade chocolate cake.

He set them down in front of Alex and his own seats. "We have a special slice for you, Herobrine. Hold on."

Steve rushed away and walked slowly back with a similar piece of cake. But this one had a very tiny torch stuck in the middle of it. Herobrine blinked. Huh. Strange.

"It's a candle." Steve explained. "It's a tradition to have some on your cake. We only had this old one." He set the on fire cake in front of him. Herobrine enjoyed the fire flare. "Usually you have a candle for every year you've been alive."

"But that would've set the house on fire." Alex snickered.

Herobrine rolled his eyes and tried to grab his fork. But Alex stopped him. "Wait! We have to sing to you!"

"Er, no thanks." That seemed silly. He did not want to be sung to.

Steve made a face. "I don't like that part either. I think we should skip it."

"We have to! It's tradition!" Alex wrapped her elbow around Steve’s neck. "Come on, Stevie. One time!"

"Alright. Alright." He caved easily. And they began.

Herobrine sat awkwardly as the two sang a little song. Saying his name. Herobrine had never heard Steve sing. It was nice. He had a pleasant voice. He thought the man should sing more. He hummed a lot but never truly sang.

Once they were done. Alex said. "Now you make a wish and blow out the candle."

"A wish? Wish for what?"

"For anything." Steve added. "But you have to wish in your head. And don't tell anyone or your wish won't come true."

"Like a curse?"

"Yeah kinda. But it's just for fun."

The demon chewed on his lip. Seeming to think about it. He nodded eventually. "Okay. I've made my wish."

"Now blow out the candle to complete the spell." Alex joked. Steve nudged her.

Herobrine looked at the small torch on the cake and willed the fire away. It went out.

Alex and Steve stared. Alex giggled. "Guess there's more than one way to skin an ocelot."

"Why would you-" Herobrine blinked.

"It's an expression." Steve laughed, sitting down and picking up his fork to eat his piece of cake. "Ignore her and dig in while the cake is still warm."

Herobrine did, setting the small torch- candle aside and picking up his fork to eat. The cake looked moist. Fresh. And smelled absolutely delicious. His mouth was watering before he even put the treat in his mouth.

When he took a bite he almost moaned. "H-holy fuck." He quickly took another bite.

Alex giggled. "Never had a Steve-made cake have you?"

"Steve, you should stop cooking everything and just make cake from now on." Herobrine had almost finished his piece already. It was just so damn good. He couldn't stop.

"Then it wouldn't be special." Steve chuckled. Looking happy that they both seemed to be enjoying his cake.

"Can I have more?" Herobrine asked, frosting definitely smeared all over his face, unabashedly.

Steve and Alex howled at that. The demon just looked so different from how they normally saw him. It was nice. And also hilarious.

Herobeine got a second slice and sat back, looking full. The demon didn't usually eat so it was a lot all at once. Totally worth it though.

"Present time!" Alex jumped up from the table as Steve moved the dishes into the kitchen.

"Present time?" Herobrine parroted.

"You get presents on your birthday!" Alex walked over to grab two things that had been set aside on a coffee table. "From everyone who comes to the party."

Alex handed Steve something and walked back to the table to give Herobrine a rectangle that looked like a book wrapped in paper. Herobrine took it confused. "Er, thanks?" He held it in his hands.

"You gotta open it dude!" Alex said excitedly.

"Open it?"

"Yeah tear open the paper!"

"Oh." Herobrine, a demon of destruction, ironically opened the book very carefully. Not wanting to damage it.

He held the book up once it was unwrapped. It was, indeed, a book. Not too hard to guess correctly.

"It's a book of modern day phrases." Alex explained. Tapping the cover. She smirked. "I know that you have some trouble with some of our more modern hip lingo."

Herobrine lifted an eyebrow at her. He flipped to a random page. "There's more than one way to skin an ocelot? Oh. I get your 'joke' now."

"See. You're learning already." She snickered. Steve smiled too.

Herobrine looked confused. But not unappreciative. He waved his hand, tucking the book away into his inventory. "Er, thanks. I will read the rest later."

"No problem!" She giggled. She then pushed Steve forward. "Go ahead, your turn."

Steve had a paper package tied up in butcher's twine behind his back. He coughed and walked forward, handing Herobrine the parcel.

The demon took it. Knowing what to do now, he tore into the paper. Revealing what was inside.

He paused when he realized what it was after pulling all the paper off and letting it float to the ground.

"It's... your cloak." Herobrine said. Not giving away any emotion. Steve seemed to droop a little. Expecting him to be a little happier. Alex nudged the miner. They shared a look. Steve rolled his eyes. He walked closer to the demon, touching the cloak in his hands.

"I knew it would already fit you. And there wasn't enough time to get you a new one made. I just know how much you like to borrow it from me when it gets colder." Steve ran his fingers along the cloak. Pointing out some stitching on the green material. "I sewed up all the holes so it won't be as drafty. And-" He tapped the button that held the cloak together. "I replaced the old latch with a golden one I got from town today. I know you said you like to wear a little gold in the nether for piglin respect or... whatever." The miner let go of the cloak and backed up, rubbing his head awkwardly.

Herobrine stared at the green gloak. Rubbing the material in his fingers.

"If... if you don't like-"

"I love it." Herobrine almost whispered. Sounding so genuine it made Steve blush and Alex smile. "It's perfect."

"O-oh." Steve scratched his head again. "Good. I'm glad." He smiled, looking away. Desperately trying to hide his blush. He had gone bright red. And Herobrine wasn't helping.

The demon stood instantly and put the cloak around his body. He had worn it before. But it looked different now. Like it was his now. It was truly his.

Herobrine looked up at Steve. "This is... the greatest gift I've ever been given." He didn't smile but his glowing eyes said it all. He was absolutely telling the truth. "Thank you, Steven."

The miner stared back. Smiling to the side and tilting his head. Embarrassed but screaming on the inside in happiness.

Alex had to butt in. Not liking the way the two were looking at each other and getting a little protective of Steve. "Pfft. Thanks a lot there, Briney boy. Glad my gift meant nothing."

Herobrine blinked. Processing the words. And then realized. "Oh, no, sorry Alex. Thank you as well."

"Yeah whatever." Alex nudged him with her fist, walking past him. She then let out a yawn. "Well. I think I'm all birthday partied out. Mind if I crash on your couch, Stevie? It's too late to walk home."

"Sure I'll get you some blankets." Steve mimicked the yawn. His eyes looked tired. They did do a lot to put the party together for him. They deserved a rest. "Happy Birthday, Brine."

"Thank you." Herobrine nodded. "Thank you both. This was... enjoyable."

"See our traditions aren't so bad." Alex said, flopping down on the couch.

"I do believe I've judged it too early." Herobrine nodded. "You do this every year?"

"Yep. And you get to do the planning and gift giving to us when it's our birthdays. No party is exactly the same." Alex nodded. "I think planning is actually more fun than celebrating your own birthday."

"Oh. Well I look forward to that. You will have to remind me when the time comes. Time is... difficult for me."

"Of course, dude." Steve produced some blankets from the closet. Herobrine sensed it was time to make his leave. He headed for the door.

"Thank you again." He said a little awkwardly. "I will uh, see you both tomorrow."

"Sounds good!" "Bye!" The siblings said.

And with Herobrine out the door. Steve and Alex looked at each other.

"I think that went well." Steve said.

"I think you owe me money for not making a single birthday suit joke." Alex said back. He threw the blankets over her head as she giggled.

"Goodnight Alex!" He went to his bedroom, trying to hide his blush. "Put out the candles before you sleep."

"I'm just saying, Stevie! That would've been a better gift if you-"

"Goodnight Alex!!"

Herobrine stood just outside the door. He wiggled his shoulders a little. Feeling the soft weight of the cloth around his shoulders. He smiled. Feeling warm inside and out. And teleported off.

#herosteve #fluff pining and stupidity #ask #jaraemonfox #fic #writng

48 notes · View notes

gerbiloftriumph · 3 years

Photo

The Silence Between Snowflakes

(also on ao3) ~ 3/8 - The Stories That Really Matter

~*~*~

The storm was bigger than expected. Daventry woke to a fresh blanket of snow at least two feet high in places, and more still on the way. The guards grumbled and manned their shovels.

Rosella and Alexander sat in her room while the snow continued to fall, playing the new and improved Battle of Wits—when Valanice walked past, she could hear them laughing (laughing! Her boy, laughing!) and Alexander whimpering in pain as another arrow nicked his thumb. They were playing less to win as they were to hit each other, it sounded like.

Siblings.

After a hot lunch, Graham held his usual audience hours. He wasn’t sure if anyone would show up in this weather, but if anything major was impending he needed to know about it. Between the potential goblins and the endless snow, he was sure something would come up. Alexander quietly asked if he might try sitting in, too, to see what Graham did as a king. All those walks had done good, it seemed, sparking his curiosity. Graham was absolutely delighted, stocking the lad with blankets and hot drinks and making sure he had a good view in case people came.

And they did. Crusted with snow, peeling slushy gloves and scarves from their hands and faces, they came to make their reports. They were uneasy about the weather, primarily. It was too early in the season for this sort of thing, and Graham was quite sure it wasn’t going to ease up as the winter went on—his people felt the same.

“I just don’t know if we have enough wood stockpiled,” Amaya warned.

“Whisper is happy to collect more, but Whisper isn’t sure about being able to support the whole village,” Whisper added. “But Whisper has been emphasizing arm day, so Whisper can do it.”

Graham considered. They had some options: they should definitely cancel the annual huge marshmallow roast, that was easy enough. Perhaps they could also thin out some of the encroaching trees on Pillare Hill, if she would be amenable to that suggestion. She’d complained once about how gloomy her hill was starting to look, and clearing back some of the branches might brighten it again. He made a note to talk to her about it as soon as possible, told Whisper he wouldn’t need to do everything himself, and promised they could certainly keep warm for a good long while together no matter what.

The fear about the village roofs groaning under the snow was valid—one of the older houses on the edge of the wall had snapped under the pressure, timbers shedding snow inside the rooms. No one had been hurt, but Graham immediately dispatched a team of guards to clear the rest of the rooftops now, and invited the displaced villagers to stay in the castle.

Nervous questions about goblins were repeated again and again, and Graham listened patiently to each new worry. Concerns about consumables were constant. If they were stealing clothes, might they steal food next? What might happen if the flour ran low? If they dug their tunnels into the vegetable cellars? Graham ordered another fully updated inventory done of the castle’s holdings, and walked the villagers through the plans No1 had put together, careful to point out what each villager would find most relevant.

Bramble was especially apprehensive about the wedzels trying to break into town to escape the chill in the forests. She’d heard them howling in the forest in the night, thought she heard them prowling the streets outside her shop. Graham would have the gates reinforced and extra torches placed around the paths. He explained that they tended to scare away from blue-flamed light in particular; he had learned that in the knight tournament all those years ago. She smiled, satisfied with the response.

Hours whirled past like snowflakes. Graham stretched out the knots in his back between petitioners, glancing at Alexander to make sure he was comfortable. He was curled on the bench like a cat, watchful, with an unreadably blank expression as he absorbed everything his father did. Every word he spoke, every movement of his hand.

They were prepared. Daventry was capable of surviving even the bleakest winters, Graham knew. But it wouldn’t be easy, and the wary looks on his citizens’ faces told him they knew it wouldn’t be, either. And if the second half was worse than this first, then they would want to start getting ready now.

“What did you think?” Graham asked later, breaking open a heel of bread and dipping it in his soup. No standing on ceremony or manners on a frozen night when there was no one but his family around him. The fireplace crackled and snapped behind him, pouring blessed heat into the informal dining hall.

“Interesting,” Alexander said. “You’re...very patient.” The unspoken words: Unlike Manannan.

“I’ve got to be,” Graham said. “You’ll hear a lot of the same questions again and again, but you’ve got to give them all your full attention like they’re the first person to have brought it up. It helps them trust you, shows that you’ll listen, that you’ll care. I’m not sure every other kingdom works like that, but this one does.”

“Still,” Valanice said distractedly, swirling her spoon through her bowl, “this is the strangest winter I can remember. I wonder what the Hobblepots would have had to say about this—maybe it’s like this every hundred years?”

“They weren’t that old,” Graham protested. “Still. I’ll have a look through the history books. If there’s anything like this, it’ll be mentioned somewhere, I’m sure.” And maybe give me some clue about what might happen next.

“It’s good for snowmen,” Rosella said, mouth full of bread. “Packs together really well.”

“Hard to shovel,” No2 groaned, wincing, as he carried a pitcher of water around the table. “I’m going to feel that for a week.”

“Someone needs to make sure you stay in shape,” No1 said drily from his post near the door.

Graham smiled. “I asked Olfie about hiring him and Pillare to scoop out the main roads. That should free up the guards for patrols and other tasks.”

“I can’t imagine she was best pleased at that.” No2 gently put the pitcher back on the serving board.

“As compensation, she wants the castle to fund an order with Acorn for a new winter cap and matching gloves. She wants embroidery. Birds, is what I heard last. She keeps changing her mind. It’s going to take ‘til the end of winter to get it done, Acorn says.”

“Her hands are as big as he is!”

“It’s a good challenge, is what I told him,” Graham said. “He’s even looking forward to it, I think.”

Outside, the snow continued to drift.

~*~*~*~

“Alexander.”

He didn’t look at Rosella. His chin was in his hands, and he was staring out the window with a look of intense thoughtfulness, mulling over something. His lips were moving as he thought, but he made no sound.

“Alexaaaander.”

Still nothing.

Very quietly, not sure it would work or should even be said: “Gwydion?”

He instantly leapt to his feet and tumbled into a haphazard bow, all awkward limbs and nervous babble, “Yessir, sorry, sir, what can I do—oh. Um. Sorry, hi. Sorry.”

“Oh no, no, no, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, I didn’t think that you’d...I’m so sorry. But. Look, Alexander, are you okay? You’ve been sitting there for at least twenty minutes. I’ve walked past twice and tried to talk to you each time and you haven’t noticed.”

It had felt like just a minute or two. “Fine.”

“You’ve got this look on your face, though. Are you sure you’re fine?”

“Yes.”

She leaned against the bookcase. “What’s the question?”

“Sorry?”

“You always have some question about Daventry when you get that look. So, what is it? I bet I know the answer.”

He looked down at his hands. “I’m trying to figure out what this means,” he admitted, and he thumped his fist into his open palm. “The king...uh, Dad does it a lot. Especially before audience hours. I just...is it some spell, or something?” It didn’t feel magical, and he was quite sure he would be able to tell, but maybe he had missed something.

“Oh! No, no, that’s an Achaka salute.”

“A...a what? Ah—chaka?”

“You’ve been here for weeks and you haven’t heard that story yet? Dad’s slipping. Here, let me introduce you.” She went to the entrance hall, Alexander lagging behind her a few paces. “This,” she said, gesturing widely, “is Achaka.”

Alexander looked around, but the only person here was Royal Guard Number Two standing post by the door, and Alexander was quite sure his name was Matt. Not that he was supposed to call the royal guards by their real names. Rosella had told him everyone’s names but had also mentioned that No1 was pretty big on formal protocol, which made Alexander immediately want to forget them so he couldn’t make a mistake. Regardless. Not Achaka. He looked again, and then realized. “The statue?”

“Well, the real Achaka died ages ago. Waaay back when Dad first came to Daventry. They met, and Achaka helped him get through the Knight Tournament that Dad needed to win if he wanted a chance at being king. So, they were looking for an eye, ‘cos Number One said they had to have one for their entrance tickets, and Achaka hadn’t come back to turn his in, and there was this dragon, and...” she stopped, and looked at the statue. “This is a boring way to tell the story. Dad does it so much better.”

“Pardon me, Princess Rosella,” No2 said, leaning forward. “I think I know a better way to tell it.”

Ten minutes later, Rosella, Alexander, and No2 were tearing the sitting room apart, putting cushions here and there to represent different cave entrances, building up a little maze of small spaces, all the while explaining the backstory of what was going on to Alexander. Rosella handed him a decorative bowl and said, “This can be a glowing mushroom, so you can put that wherever you want.”

Royal Guard Number One said from the door, “What are you doing?” Alexander froze, almost dropping the bowl in his sudden nervousness.

“Oh! Number One!” Rosella clapped her hands. “Excellent! Will you help us?”

No1 stared at the mountain of pillows they’d stacked precariously by the window. It was teetering madly, and looked like breathing on it wrong would knock the whole thing over. “Help?”

No2 got to his feet. He’d been tying curtain pulls together to make one long cord. “We need you to be Achaka,” he said.

“...I’m sorry, I must repeat myself. What are you doing?”

“Reenacting the dragon attack for Prince Alexander. We wanted to explain what an Achaka salute was, and this is a better way of doing it, we thought. More...emotional.” No2 surveyed the pillow pile, and then began climbing.

“Indeed. And you want me to play...”

No2 swayed to keep his balance while tying the rope he’d made to the top of the window frame. “Achaka, yeah. You don’t have to say anything, or really do much. Except maybe you can say ‘Achaka’ if you really want to get into it. Otherwise, you can just stand there looking stern. Pretend to shoot an arrow. That’s probably about it for the most part.”

“Right. And who are you playing in this...?”

“Young Graham, of course.” No2 slid down the pillow mountain. “For my bubbly and likeable personality and terrific bouts of energy.”

“I’m the dragon,” Rosella interjected.

“Of course you are,” No1 said.

“Raaar.” She made a face and held her fingers up like claws, then broke down giggling, enjoying herself tremendously.

No2 clasped his gauntlets together and made a pleading sort of noise. “Please, Number One, it’s for the young prince’s sake. We wouldn’t ask you otherwise.”

“Yes, Number Two, you would. And have. And I refused last time, too.”

“Yeah, but this time it’s for a good cause.”

“The radish eating contest opening ceremony was ‘for a good cause,’ too,” he said, sharply.

“It was, though.”

“Please, Number One,” Rosella added, putting on her brightest diplomatic smile.

Alexander fidgeted with the bowl behind them, watching. There was no way. He’d seen how No1 acted around the other guards. Seen how stiff and stern he was, how dry and sarcastic and...

About ten minutes later, King Graham walked past the room. He froze mid step, then walked backward past the door again, staring at the bizarre tableau in the sitting room. No1 was standing in the middle of the room, arms crossed, looking like he was regretting every single decision he’d ever made in his life, while Rosella clung to his leg, pretending to bite it. No2 was running across the room holding onto a curtain rope as though he was swinging on it, and Alexander was supervising the whole thing from a pile of cushions in the corner, an audience of one.

“What are you doing?”

“Ah, Your Majesty. This...” No1 glanced at the disarray, at the princess clawing at his boot, and said, dry as bone in an unquestionable tone, “Training. We’re trying out a new form of training.”

“Rosella, is that your mother’s green eye makeup all over your cheeks?”

“No, of course not. It’s the lighting in here, it’s very dim,” Rosella said, from around No1’s leg. The room was perfectly lit with that bright, cold, sunshine-on-snow white light, what with the curtains held open with cushions. The curtain ties were all clutched in No2’s hands, a single long cord that looked like a vine in his hands. Or an escape rope.

Graham took a second look, and then dawning realization crossed his face. He grinned. “So, I’m going to guess Number Two is me?”

“Got it in one, Sire,” No2 said cheerfully. “On account of my bubbly and likeable personality and terrific bouts of energy.” (No1 couldn’t quite stop his exasperated sigh.)

“Naturally. I wouldn’t expect anyone else.” Graham looked at Alexander. “Does this...performance make any sense?”

“Um.”

“I think you need a narrator to actually explain what you’re doing to your audience,” Graham said to the three actors. “Shall we take it from the top?” He smiled. “Let me tell you a story. A story about what it means to be brave even when you don’t think you can be, even when you’re facing the biggest threat imaginable. Ready?”

~*~*~*~

A castle couldn’t be stuffy. It was huge, with spiraling passages and enormous rooms and high ceilings. It was full of the hustle and bustle of people, but it was easy enough to find quiet little corners and stay away from everyone.

But Alexander still felt hemmed in. As the weeks turned to months, as the calendar spun deeper into winter, it started feeling even more claustrophobic, somehow. Surrounded by choking tapestries and detailed paintings of people he didn’t know and endless rows of doors lining labyrinthian hallways. The walks with the king helped him feel less trapped, but he started slipping out by himself whenever he could. It was weird to have the freedom to go wherever he wanted whenever he wanted. No one ever stopped him or demanded to know what he was doing. No one ever watched him.

Except...someone was watching him now. He felt the familiar prickle on the back of his neck, a sense he’d refined over the years living with...that wizard. He pushed down the forest path a little faster, trying to act uncaring like he figured a prince probably should be. Most of the trails were too snowed under to walk, but someone had been keeping this one fairly clear—he realized he was about to find out who.

“Your form is all wrong,” a voice called out.

Alexander skidded to a stop, slipping in the snow. “I’m...sorry?”

“You’ll never manage to get to a decently paced jog with that sort of biscuit placement. You’ll trip over your toes. You must build up to the more intensive leg days, but if you haven’t got a good form, you’re defeating yourself.”

It was a booming, boisterous, braggy sort of voice. Alexander nervously stepped back a pace. “Have we met?”

“Surely you haven’t forgotten Whisper!” The voice was offended now.

“Oh. Oh!” Usually, Alexander had the shield of the king or his sister to hide behind when one of the Daventry citizens approached. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do now, by himself, without their cues. “Sorry. Whisper. Of course.” He clamped his mouth shut again, afraid he was going to do something wrong.

The knight was leaning against a directional signpost. “This is Whisper’s jogging trail,” the knight said, thumbing at the well-trodden path. He had earmuffs on over his helmet, which seemed entirely to defeat the purpose of earmuffs. “Whisper is more than happy to share the traffic, but only if the traffic stays in the correct lane. You aren’t ready for the fast track yet, Prince Alexander. Not with that mediocre run.”

“Oh, please, not...not Prince. I’m just…just Alexander. And I wasn’t actually running,” Alexander said warily. “I was only walking. I can, um. Walk somewhere else, though. Good...good day?” He tried a nervous little half bow and started to creep down the path.

“Aaah, wait, wait, wait!” Whisper said, standing in Alexander’s way. “Come now, if you have forgotten Whisper, then that simply isn’t good! We have yet to exchange tales of bravery, because had you heard such a tale then you could not have forgotten me!”

“I don’t have any tales of bravery, though,” Alexander said, sidestepping into the snow. “It’s, uh, good to see you again, Whisper. I’ll just...”

“But your tale is the bravest of them all,” Whisper said, and now he seemed confused. “Isn’t it?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Grand escapes, magic, dragons—”

“—there wasn’t actually a dragon. I don’t know why everyone keeps thinking there was a dragon.”

“Oh. But. Dragons add such a spice to a story. Perhaps we should add one.”

“I’d rather not.”

“I can help you pen your tale, if needed,” Whisper offered. “Whisper is good at adding outlandish details that grab your audience’s attention and whirl them through the tale!” He leapt from place to place as he spoke, making elaborate hand gestures, and then added, much more quietly, “Even if the tale isn’t strictly true.”

“I’d really rather not,” Alexander repeated. “Thank you, but another time.”

“Whisper shall be here! Whisper is always here! Unless Whisper is with Amaya, and then Whisper is in town. With Amaya. You understand, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Have you met the beautiful lady Amaya?” Whisper asked, fully distracted and starting up the conversation again as though they hadn’t just been moving through the niceties of farewell. “She is most delicate. The sweetest flower, the fluffiest cloud, the tallest peak, to be adored. The finest, most talented, most clever lady in all the lands! Her stories shall be trumpeted from the mountaintops! By yours truly, of course,” he added, pointing to himself so hard that his thumb bounced off his chest plate with a metallic ringing sound.

“Delicate,” Alexander repeated, wondering if he was thinking of someone else. Maybe there were two Amayas in town. The one he had briefly met could hammer together an iron gate without breaking a sweat. But maybe there were different types of delicate?

“I shall expect you to carry on her tale as well,” Whisper said earnestly. “A tale must be retold by many to become a legend, and once it is a legend, then it creates immortals, and my dear Amaya shall indeed be an immortal legend! Like me. But first you must hear the stories, since you have not lived them with us. And then we shall work on your own tale.”

Expectations. Stories. Things he didn’t know.

He thought about the story the king had told about Achaka. What that story had meant. Daventry, as far as Alexander could tell, thrived on the power of tales, perhaps in part because of its leader and his delight with words. But Alexander didn’t know any of the stories himself, and he didn’t want to tell the one that he had survived.

The problem was that everyone knew each other so well already. He felt like an intruder crashing in on a story in the third act, an audience member trying to fill in the gaps of a play after they’d missed most of it.

No one had said anything to him about it yet, but he had felt a weight of expectation settling on his shoulders the moment he’d woken up in that sickbed with his family hovering over him. His family that, incidentally, happened to be royalty. He was heir to a throne he hadn’t even known about until a few months ago. Daventry had been a name written on a map in the wizard’s office with throwing darts embedded in it, and that was about it.

Until now.

Now, he could sense the confidence from its people that he would learn the stories and tend to it, like King Graham did now. That Alexander would continue his father’s legacy. His story.

He had gone outside of the castle to get away from the sense of being tied down, from the tapestries and the paintings and the weight of hundreds of years of leadership. All the stories, endless and complicated and wrapped together and important to its people.

But the expectation of stories had followed him out here, too. Whisper was certain Alexander would listen and understand. The knight was watching him with a puppy’s eagerness, excited to explain why he loved the blacksmith so much, another story to Daventry’s history, another tale that Alexander should already know. That he would have known, if he hadn’t been in Llewdor, been a different person.

There was guilt, and frustration, and a desire to know, all shoved into a box in his mind that he dared not open.

Alexander could probably understand these people and their needs, but Gwydion definitely couldn’t. He didn’t know any good tales. He wasn’t good at playing games. He wasn’t even coordinated, apparently, as Whisper had pointed out. And he was terrified everyone was going to find out that he wasn’t a prince, wasn’t even “just” Alexander, that he was still Gwydion.

After hearing Graham’s story about Achaka, Alexander had gone to the tallest tower he could find in the castle. Standing there, alone, looking out at the snow-covered country, thinking of the expectations that were starting to press on his shoulders, he had tried out the salute. It hadn’t felt like anything at all. It had felt pointless. Graham had said it was supposed to help center you and help you find courage, but he still felt lost and afraid.

If he’d been Prince Alexander, someone who belonged there, maybe things would be different. But Gwydion didn’t deserve the salute. Didn’t deserve to be in Daventry.

Still.

Whisper wanted to tell him a story right now. And enough stories, enough knowledge, could change things. He had taught himself magic and escaped the wizard’s manor. Maybe more stories about Daventry would help him escape Gwydion. And, cautiously, he nodded. He let Whisper tell him another story, and he listened, and he learned.

~*~*~*~

Gwendolyn lifted her head. “Grandpa? Did Dad really say all that?”

Graham smiled. “Later, he did mention some conversation with Whisper, and the general gist of it. I confess, I wasn’t there. Storyteller’s discretion, you know.” He sipped a glass of water and waited for her to continue. She had a look on her face that said she was possibly finally ready to explain what had been bothering her earlier.

“It’s just.” She had been sitting on the bed, holding the canopy’s bedpost and running her fingers along the carvings as she listened, but now she slipped down, wandering toward the fireplace. “It’s just. That’s. Kinda what Gart said to me.”

“What did he say?”

“That I don’t belong here.” She sank into the rocking chair and started kicking herself back and forth, back and forth, while Graham blinked, at a complete loss for words for the first time that night. “He said...that I shouldn’t be too comfortable, that I’d be going back to the Green Isles with Dad again soon. I don’t think he meant to be mean about it. I think. I don’t know what I think. I don’t think he likes me in Daventry very much.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Graham said, after a pause. There was anger in his voice, a sharpness that felt too cold for the storytime bedroom.

“Please, don’t!” Gwendolyn said, looking up quickly. “I don’t want him to know that I took it wrong. It was probably just nothing. Just talking.”

Just shouting, if I remember correctly, Graham thought.

“I do belong in the Green Isles, though, he’s right.” She drew her legs up onto the chair, squeezing herself into a little ball, and dropped her head onto her knees again, staring at the floor.

“You belong wherever you want to be, my dear,” Graham said, gently. He cursed his weak knees and broken arm and inability to rise and go to her, like he would have gone to her father. “It can be here, there, or anywhere. We Crackers are pretty good at figuring out who we are and going where we’re needed.”

She hesitated. Then, clearly wanting to go back to the story and stop talking about personal things, she said, “So...what happened after that?”

Graham distractedly pushed away thoughts of his grandson and spread his arms (arm, singular, the other being broken) wide, and said, “The snow kept on falling.” And the story continued.

~*~*~*~

“I don’t understand this,” Valanice sighed, standing by the bedroom window and rubbing her arms through her night robe.

As the days faded and weeks stretched, the blanket of snow grew yet deeper. The trolls were making good on their promise to keep the main roads clear, but it was like walking through gray tunnels to get anywhere. Graham felt like his castle tower was an island above puffy clouds. This reminded him of the tower he’d been trapped in with Valanice and...well, Valanice, the two princesses who shared the same name. The day the tower had walked through a cloud and soaked them all had been quite an experience, leaving all three spluttering and shivering and laughing. He missed the warmth of those spring days.

“Maybe the villagers should all come here,” he said, wrapping his arm around her and squeezing her close in front of him, his chin resting on her shoulder as he studied the white expanse. The clouds had broken and the sun was peeking over the horizon, making the whole thing blindingly glittery. But rather than feel cheered by it, Graham felt apprehension in his stomach. The clouds would roll in again, as they had for days. This wouldn’t even begin to melt before another layer would come down. “I don’t want anyone to get snowed in to the point where they can’t take care of themselves.”

“I’m not sure they’ll agree to that,” Valanice said. “That feels like giving up.”

“It’s weather. There’s nothing to fight, and the only puzzle is how we shore up our own supplies,” Graham pointed out. He reached toward the window panes with his free hand, feeling the icy chill against his skin.

“They won’t feel that way, and you know it.”

“Soon, though, I might have to make that decision for them.”

“At least the goblins can’t strike in this,” she said, sighing. “Their escape tunnels are probably all plugged up with snow.”

“Small blessings,” Graham said, and kissed her cheek.

It had been cold (of course it had been, it was winter), but Graham's breath caught as soon as he stepped outside. The chill was so much more than expected, a bone deep ache. Despite the weak sunlight, the cold sank into his chest and made him want to cough. His breath appeared as dragon-smoke, white bellows preceding his every step. He tugged a scarf over his nose, which helped a little bit, and went to find No1.

More than the cold, more than the daily snow: the silence unnerved him most. Graham felt the stillness like a blanket around his ears. The recent threat of goblins had roused up old nightmares, and the silence of his beloved kingdom, normally so crowded with birdsong, squirrel chatter, music, life, even in winter—it reminded him of his goblin cell. Of the shadows and the stillness. Of the fear that laced his every echoing step. Of impossibilities and distress.

Valanice was right: so far, the only good result from this weather was a lack of goblins. There hadn’t been any signs of attack since the missing winter clothes and ice picks. Which meant that Graham hadn’t needed to travel down those tunnels to see the goblin king. At least, not yet. Should another instance happen, Graham knew he would have to set that appointment, and the very idea made his throat threaten to close. But he would do it, if he needed to.

Stars, I hope I don’t need to.

“Report, Number One?” Graham said, once he’d found the guard huddled over a cup of tea near the drawbridge. His mittened hands clutched the mug like someone was trying to take it from him, and he was curled over it to hold in every trace of warmth. His earmuffs were slipping.

“Not much to report, Sire. Just snow. Incredibly unexpected and surprising, I’m sure.” No1 sighed, his breath mingling with the steam of his tea and creating a white cloud that instantly froze in his mustache. “I rather think—” He cut himself off and saluted stiffly, “Sir, apologies, the cold makes me forget myself. I was thinking aloud.”

“Feels like?” Graham pressed. No1’s intuition was always sharp and frequently accurate.

“It’s nonsense, hardly worth the effort of saying it. And yet. It feels like something’s coming, Your Majesty. There’s a center to this storm, and it’s getting closer. Which is ridiculous, and I’ll thank you for not repeating it. The sort of fanciful thinking one of the younger staff might have. Who ever heard of menacing weather?”

“Stranger things have probably happened,” Graham said. “I wonder...”

“It’s colder today than it was yesterday. And there’s more snow than there was the day before. Keeping this only between us, Sire, it’s keeping me awake at night wondering if maybe I’m right.”

“You know, I really, really hope you aren’t,” Graham said, and the two men stared out across the snow hiding everything as far as the eye could see.

#i confess i can't decide: should ch4 go up thursday in place of a standard illustrated gerbil or should it wait until monday #should we just get all ye fic out quickly or alternate posts? any preferences out there?#kings quest #King's Quest #King Graham #rosella (king's quest)#alexander (king's quest)#neese #vee #this post is protected by the royal guards #fic'ing #ch4 #whisper (king's quest)

10 notes · View notes

razorblade180 · 4 years

Text

Rosebud Prep 10

Healing, it’s much harder than must people think. Yet somehow not a complicated process. Ruby had healed before plenty of times. The loss of Pyrrha, the disasters that came from failed missions, the merge of Oscar and Oz; Ruby managed time and time again to learn from these scars. Dustin was different. It felt like she hadn’t learn anything. All this time she refused to look ahead like Oz had been trying to tell her calmly before things got physical. It was bitter pill to swallow but one she needed to take. Things needed to change before it was too late. She needed to start making steps. No one would blame her if they were small steps but that’s not how Ruby Rose operated. Where most people walk, she runs. They run, then Ruby sprints. Ozpin had just help her “sprint” all the way to Menagerie and has feet planted on the first steps leading to Blake’s house.

Ozpin:You sure you don’t want me to walk up with you?

Ruby:I’m sure. This is one of things you have to do alone ya know? It’s just my sister....and her new wife.....that have helped me through think and thin. Including my wedding, which is more than what I can say I did for them. I really hope they yell at me.

Ozpin:Feeling like you need to be punished and deserving punishment are two different things. The guilt you feel is proof enough that the ladder isn’t needed.

Ruby:Or maybe my guilt is the ladder...

So began her very long walk on the average sized stairway. In truth she felt like running away. Yang had a way of always making her feel like a little kid despite their age. Ruby have had to own up to mistakes countless times to her big sister and it never got easier. Apologizing out loud to anyone always made her more emotional than she probably should be. Ruby mentally kicked herself for not practicing what she’d say on the boat ride to Menagerie. Even as the final stone step was conquered, not a thing came to mind.

Ruby:(Sigh, guess I’m winging it. Probably not the best move coming from a leader but oh well.)

“Well look who the cat dragged in? The right family tree but the wrong branch.” Said the elderly voice that immediately caught Ruby’s attention. Her gaze was directed to the front entrance and of Yang’s new home. On the porch was a rocking chair that instantly was recognized; as well as the person in it..

Ruby:Maria?!

Maria:What’s with confused look? I say all you kids are still as sporadic as ever. What are the odds I’d meet you here of all places after all this time and not around Vacou? I only live one town over you know.

Ruby:That’s why I’m confused. Why are in front of Blake’s home? Why are in you in Menagerie in the first place?

Maria:What does it look like I’m doing? House sitting of course! The love birds asked me to keep an eye on it while they went on their honeymoon. They should be back today.

Ruby:(Wow, I really am out of the loop.)

Maria:Didn’t notice I was even gone did you?

Ruby:*scratches head* Well.....

Maria:I suppose it’s only natural. A bag of bones like myself doesn’t believe I’d be at the top of any list of relevance. Especially when more important things like weddings are also being skipped.

Ruby:*frowning*Is that your way of telling me I’ve been dropping the ball? Trust me, I’ve noticed...

Maria:Of course. Why else would you be here? Unless one of your many missions has brought The Storyteller to these pleasant shores? You’ve been busy. Too busy.

Ruby:Oz already told me. I really could do without another lecture. Besides, at least innocent lives are safe.

Maria:Sigh, still a kid I see. Wet behind the ears and all.

Ruby:I’m twenty three and I don’t think I get exactly what you’re implying. If anything I’ve gotten pretty good at being an huntsman.

Maria:For a normal perhaps, but that does not apply to you now does it? When was the last time you looked in a mirror? It’s alarming how dim your eyes have gotten.

Ruby:My eyes?

Maria:See for yourself.

Ruby reaches for her scroll and pulls out the camera. Maria was right. It was faint but the iris of her eyes were different. What once was piercing silver now looked a bit clouded and gray. She didn’t know what to make of it but it was hard not to be concerned now.

Ruby:I had no idea.

Maria:Yeah that’s obvious. I know you’ve never been much of a prissy girl but I would’ve thought you looked in the mirror every so often. Anyway idea why it’s happening.

Ruby:Are you actually asking me or are you quizzing me?

Maria:*smiles* Well it looks like you’ve learned at least one thing from your time with me. I suppose that’s worth a straight forward answer. It’s-

Ruby:My will to preserve life? Yeah, haven’t really had that mindset in awhile. I know that isn’t exactly good but believe me, not like I didn’t try to stay positive. I just.....hoping and being positive has been on short supply.

Maria:.....

Maria:You know it’s rude to call me out and cut me off mid explanation?

Ruby:Was my answer wrong?

Maria:Sigh, no you are right. Your headspace isn’t what it used to be. Sure you’re killing grimm but are you aren’t simply doing it to protect people. You’re venting all the pent up anger and hate inside you. It’s a far cry from what the silver eyes powers are based off of. Though I can’t really blame you for falling off course. Losing a kid harbors more than enough pain to change anyone.

Ruby:Yeah, it is. *holds her chest*

Maria:What’s eating away at you.

Ruby:I want to move forward. To smile like I used to be able to but I can’t see it happening. The pain I experienced isn’t something that will actually go away and I shouldn’t think it will; I understand that. But how am I supposed to laugh and be contempt with life if it doesn’t? Living in a world where I’m happy after all of this seems like a fantasy.

Maria:It really does. Overcoming such turmoil with a smile in the very end sounds like something straight out of a fairytale book. Sounds like your specialty, or did I end up spreading around an inappropriate nickname for you?

Ruby:*Eyes widen* Nickname? Wait, The Storyteller? That was your doing!?

Maria:Why so surprised? Who else could’ve come up with such a brilliant nickname. If it was left up to you then you’d be call the The Grimm Reaper number two.

Ruby:I...*red* I would not.....

Maria:*smiles* Twenty three huh? So young to have done so much already; way more than what I did at that age. Guess that leaves you room to do even more impressive stuff. A name like The Grimm Reaper was always too small for the scope of work you do. Making miracles out of nothing, now that has you written all over it. It’s happened before and it’ll happen again. Those eyes of yours will shine brighter than ever. They believe so too.

“Damn right we do. Right Blake?” “I call her purity for a reason.” Both voices sent a chill down Ruby’s spine. Her ears burning from hearing the two people she waited for standing behind her. There was no time wasted turning around to see Blake and Yang in holding luggage in one hand while the other two held each other’s. The sun had a way of bouncing off their rings and shining broken light around them.

Ruby’s eye marveled at it for a second. It was beautiful. She wondered what it looked like during the exchange. The sour thought made her wince a little before looking at Blake. Her friend smiled at her softly before making Ruby notice Yang by bending her left cat ear up and down. Ruby was scared but eventually looked at Yang. There wasn’t a smile; just a simple stare right at her. Any expression carefully hidden. Ruby’s throat ran dry as silver eyes met lilac. Her mouth opened before immediately closing. Tears started to well up and it began increasingly impossible to maintain eye contact.

Her body shook slightly and Ruby found herself looking away from both of them. The entire time her mind racing in frustration about her behavior and actions. Before she knew it, Yang was right in front of her and cuffed the right side of Ruby’s red face. There eyes met again but it was different this time. A visible look of comfort yet concern was on the blondes face. A dam inside Ruby finally gave way and she started audibly crying. Yang pulled her baby sister into a tight embrace and rubbed the girl’s head.

Ruby:I’m sorry......I’m so sorry.....

Yang:Ssssshhhhh it’s okay. We’re okay; we’ve always been okay.

Ruby:You should be angry with me! Furious even! I....I cut you out. Ignored you during the happiest times of your life because I was angry mine were gone. What kind of little sister does that!?

She was running out of breath yet continued to cry her heart out. Her arm wrapping around Yang like her life depended on it. Wanting to never let go again. Yang did nothing but continued to comfort the girl. Happy to finally see her again.

Yang:How could I be mad at my little sister who was grieving. I was just scared. Scared that I’d never see you try to bounce back from something like this. I’ve always known how to help you with things but with this it was different. I ran out of ideas and all I could do was hope one day something will change; that time itself could heal a problem I had no clue how. That it could give you back to me. *crying* I never lost hope your strength. Ruby I love you.

Ruby:I....I love you too.

Blake:*sniffles* I guess I should tell Weiss the team is all here. She’d be mad if she missed a reunion.

Yang:Hehe *sniffles* No kidding. You are staying for awhile right?

Ruby:*wipping her face* Actually...I was hoping... all of you can come with me to Vale. I think I’ll need the moral support....

Yang:Do you even have to ask? Also....ummm, what’s with your eyes? They are all cloudy or something?

Maria:Wow, noticed it in no time flat. Maybe she should have them.

Ruby:*groans in defeat*

xxxx

First step achieved, or at least half of it. The other half was waiting in Patch under a tree; rubbing a very happy corgi’s belly while his handler tended to the sunflower garden under the evening sun.

Tai:So, any plans for the rest of day while you still have some daylight left? Or are you gonna turn in early like you’ve been doing since you got here.

Jaune:I stay up late sometimes.

Tai:And proceed to watch tv and eat before going back to sleep or rubbing Zwei’s belly. He’s never gonna let you leave if you keep showing him this much attention.

Jaune:It’s calming and what else exactly am I supposed to do?

Tai:Go to a restaurant. A park maybe? I didn’t force you to shave your stubble just so you can watch reruns all day. Take it from me, you only feel worse staying in one place.

Jaune:I know. That’s why I’m not home remember?

Tai:A very good step, but you do know technically you’re still not seeing anything. You just chose to stew in your thoughts with a friend. It’s flattering but the point is to stop stewing all together. Best way to do that, occupy your brain. There’s a movie in town we can go see if you like.

Jaune:....Zwei bark twice if you want me to stay here. Bark once if I should see a movie.

Arf arf!!!!

Jaune:You heard the man.

Tai:He always barks twice. That’s why his name is Zwei.

Jaune:What? No way.

Tai:Zwei bark once if we should feed you table scraps or bark twice if we should start another great war.

Arf Arf!!!!!

Tai:See?

Jaune:Maybe he just craves destruction. Like a war dog, or a hell hound. Are you an agent of chaos little guy?

Zwei gets back on all fours and gives a puppy face that would either tell Jaune that he was completely wrong or an act to cover up sinister intent. The corgi ran onto the knights lap and licked his face before scampering off down the dirt path. Both blonde men looking puzzled for a moment before hearing a shriek of excitement and seeing Zwei raised up by a familiar figure. Jaune stood up and looked closely to see Weiss happily loving the dog.

Weiss:Oh how is my favorite guy in the whole wide world!? Yes you are! Yes you are!

Jaune:Weiss? What is she doing here?

Tai:(I swear that dog has better lady luck than anyone. Even Raven likes him.) I guess his number one fan wanted to drop by and see him. I certainly didn’t call her.

Weiss:*happily humming*

Jaune:Uhh Weiss?

Weiss:Hmm? Oh! *clears throat* Sorry, didn’t see you there hehe. Nice to see as always.

She promptly puts Zwei down and opens up her arms to Jaune. Maybe it was current situation or her mind playing tricks but her friend seemed to move a little faster than normal to share a hug. Weiss couldn’t help but remember how fast she moved at Haven’s inn when Ruby and Yang invited her into a hug a few years ago. This held a similar energy to it. The poor was really going through it right now and she had no problem making the embrace last until he decided to end it.

Weiss:Look at that. You’ve shaved since the wedding. Glad to see you look more rested. I’m gonna be honest though, your hair is getting a bit long don’t you think.

Jaune:I could go back to the crew cut....

Weiss:I will personally destroy every episode pair of scissors if you do that.

Tai:I’ll help! Shaggy looks good on you.

Jaune:No one appreciates experimentation.

Weiss:People do when it works.

Jaune:Did you fly all the way here to judge my looks? I already have Tai trying to take away my jeans and black t-shirts

Tai:Change of clothes help state of mind. I’m trying to get him to brighter colors.

Weiss:First of all, Tai we should talk sometime about colors. Second, Jaune I am here to bring you Beacon. That is all the information I can give you. *grabs his hands* Do you trust me?

Jaune:Even if I didn’t, you’d just drag me there.

Weiss:Yep. Tai you should come along too. I think it might make things even better.

Tai gave a look of integument at the tiny girl that gave the same look back. He needed no convincing or explanation. Call it fatherly instinct but he had a feeling in his gut he knew what might be happening. The man patted the dirt off his hands and stood up ready.

Tai:Looks like we have afternoon plans Jaune. Bark twice if you wanna come too Zwei.

Arf Arf!!!

Jaune:Unbelievable....

Weiss started to pull her friend down the path towards the airship she had arrived in. In a matter of minutes they were inside and taking of. Jaune wasn’t exactly thrilled with how fast he went from enjoying outside to going on an adventure. He wasn’t going to complain though. In truth, after that faithful day, sunsets were something he could live without.

His head swiveled to the cockpit to look outside all the same. He was caught off gaurd to notice the pilot was sporting a pair of black cat ears.

Jaune:Blake?

Blake:Hey Jaune. Nice hair. Needs a slight trim though.

Jaune:Why is everyone- I’ll get around to it...

He felt Tai pat his shoulder in comfort. All those years in a house filled with women and yet even he could hold out for so long before bowing out of any debate. Jaune chose to close his eyes and rest instead. He hadn’t done anything straining for a few weeks yet more often than not he was drained of stamina. It wasn’t a mystery why but it was still shocking to say the least.

This surprise had just started and it was already sapping what energy he had. It didn’t go unnoticed by the others on board. A tired Jaune was a rare sight to see; they wished to keep it that way. Weiss tugged on his arm and the two of them began to lean on each other lightly. She smiled to herself as she felt his body slightly let go of tension.

Jaune:Thanks...

Weiss:No problem. Just rest for now. I’ll tell you when we’re there.

xxxx

The ride was short but nice. Blake hadn’t flown the airship too fast for Jaune to handle and even took a longer route to give him more rest time. It was thoughtful but also a bit wasteful as they all found out when finally landed. Yes he rested, but Jaune never really went to sleep. A moment of reprieve was more accurate. Jaune was the first one to leave the ship and started heading up the street. One by one his friends and family caught up to him and enjoyed the comfortable silence.

Traffic was non existent. There was no clutter of trash or people on the streets. The entire area seemed to be bathed in an orange light for miles. A gust of autumn wind gave slight goosebumps and a familiar feeling of grief. How long would it be before this season once again brought him happiness and not the sight of a helicopter fading away? He doubt he’d find a decent answer. Instead he kept walking towards the giant gate he’d seen so many times with some of the people he still had. That number only grew with each step.

The familiar stone road still sported light posts on each side every few feet. About three fourths of the way there sat his teammates on each side; patently awaiting his arrival. Ren and Nora waited for Jaune to be completely parallel with them before walking along side him. Still nothing was said. Nothing had to be. Jaune could see up ahead was Yang leaning on the gate entrance. Her hands rested in her pocket and a sense of ease radiated from the place she stood. The gap between them closed as they met eye to eye. Jaune’s eyebrow raised in curiosity about this unexpected gathering. They had all met not too long ago for the wedding. Yang gave him a playful punch in the arm along with a smile that could warm the coldest of nights.

Both gates opened behind her and she moved out the way. What came next was something he wanted to hope for but didn’t out of fear of disappointing himself. Pass the gate sat Ruby in the middle of one of the stone walkway openings. She was staring at the statue a little ways away. Jaune tried to open his mouth to finally speak but was denied that immediately. Multiple hands found their way to his back and gently nudged him forward; everyone else stayed behind. He gave one final look at all of them before nodding and walking towards his wife. It only took a seconds before he realized he stood right next to her. Silence broken at last.

Jaune:Why here?

Ruby:This spot. It holds a lot of weight for me. You know why don’t you?

Jaune:Of course I do. We first met here.

Ruby:Did you know this ground was mostly intact after the fall? Barely any of it had to be replaced. I bet I could turn one of these slabs over and still find the tiniest bit of Weiss’s dust from that day.

Jaune:Pretty sure you sneezed it all away.

Ruby:Heh. I really thought that was going to be one of the miserable days of my life. Then I met you. You offered me your hand and then your friendship when I needed it the most. Jaune you turned that day from bleak to dazzling and I’ve never forgotten it; you were there when I felt lonely. *shaking* So when I say I’m truly disgusted that I have not shown the same level of compassion, I meant it.

Jaune:Ru-

Ruby:*crying* Please, I have to say this....

Jaune:....

Ruby:I made a vow to you on our wedding day to be by your side through any adventure because it was our adventure. The two of us are a packaged deal. Best friends, co leaders, husband and wife....yet the moment all hell broke loose, I left you alone. I broke our vow and there will never be a valid excuse for that in my eyes. Both of us lost Dustin yet I didn’t act like it. In no way have I been a good wife.

Her voice started cracking. Ruby rose to her feet and stood facing Jaune. There was no part of hey that was still. Her chest was heavy as she tried to breathe.

Ruby:You deserve better than what I have given you and that’s a fact. I’ve seen first hand what a husband, a father can go through after so much loss with my dad but that didn’t stop me from making a similar mistake. If you could possibly find inside yourself to forgive an idiot like me, then I swear that things will be different or so help me, my name as a huntress might as well burn! First and for most I stand by you as your wife and I-

A gasp escapes her lips as Jaune touches her face. Her tears run down the palm of his hand while his own finally roll down to his chin. Ruby’s hands raise up to meet the one on her face. Her nimble fingers trace it until they feel his wedding band.

Jaune:Can you please stop talking bad about the woman I love? She’s been through enough and I just want to kiss her. My love, is something she’ll never have to doubt. It wouldn’t be much of an adventure of it was easy right?

Her eyes widened before a sudden burst of tears flowed out again. Ruby jumped into his arms like her very soul depended on it. Jaune hoisted her up slightly and together shared a kissed that could only be described as the embodiment of love as they know it. Every bit of pain in them could be felt through it but so could their love. A love that mended the vow Jaune never saw truly broken but merely tested.

Ruby:Don’t ever doubt my love either okay? You’ll always be my home. My knight.

Jaune:As will you. My rose.

Their hands interlocked as shared another embrace. Finally she’d done it. The first step was taken, and she took it with everyone on a simple day. Where the wind felt crisp and the world was bathed in sunset.

Part 9

#rwby #rwby rosebud #ruby rose #jaune arc #maria calavera #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #rwby ozpin #taiyang xiao long #nora valkyrie #lie ren #rwby lancaster #bmblb

86 notes · View notes

dark-infatuation · 4 years

Note

...you know exactly what we came here to ask. - X, Gem & Mun

Yes dear, I am well aware~

1. What’s one animal you wish you could have as a pet but can’t?

Once upon a time, I would’ve said a dragon~ Now, I suppose any sort of big cat. A melanistic lion would be quite magnificent, don’t you think?

2. Favorite thing to wear to sleep?

Usually, it ends up being flannel pajama pants, with or without a shirt, doesn’t matter. But, I do have a set of silk pajamas that feel rather nice

3. What song really gets you going?

That’s a good question. I’m not very up to date with modern music. But the song ‘Endgame’ from the musical Chess is very good.

4. Where do you usually eat your meals?

Preferably, at the kitchen table. Though I do admit I have a habit of sitting on the kitchen island to eat

5. Favorite meal: breakfast, lunch, or dinner?

Breakfast

6. Most embarrassing habit?

Uh, yes, well, I have been disconnected from society for quite some time, and I’m afraid my slang isn’t very up to date. I try not use slang as a general rule, but there are occasions where I can slip and say something that truly shows my age

7. Chocolate or fruity candy?

Chocolate, no question

8. Soft or hard tacos?

Soft

9. Worst way to break up a fight?

Participating in said fight, solves nothing

10. Best thing to say in an elevator of strangers?

Shift a pair of demon horns onto my head and boom “Going down?”

11. What color/design are your bedsheets?

Plain black, though the comforter has a nice black and white patterning I’m not sure how to describe. Swirls mixed with paisley?

12. Any hidden talents?

I don’t think it’s hidden anymore, but I can play the piano quite well

13. Favorite thing to drink out of (mug, glass, etc.)?

Mug

14. Socks or bare feet around the house?

Bare feet

15. Favorite board game?

Monopoly

16. Do you sleep with the fan on or off?

Off, I’m cold enough as is

17. Heat on or keep it cold with lots of layers?

Depends on my mood, but usually ends up being both with how big the manor is

18. Do you sing in the shower?

Yes

19. Favorite song to belt out at the top of your lungs when you’re alone?

......‘Poor Unfortunate Souls’

20. Last thing you cried about?

.....Everything, really. Everything that happened that night.

21. At what age did you first have alcohol?

When we were 7, but it was also a very different time back then.

22. Relationship status?

I’d say I’m taken, wouldn’t you, Xanthias~?

23. What’s the most amount of money you’ve spent on a single item of clothing?

Oh I can end up spending quite a lot on my suits. I think my most expensive one was...somewhere in the $30,000 range?

24. What do you typically wear to formal events?

Suits

25. Favorite memory?

............I’d rather not say. Time has made the moment bitter, but...it had been quite beautiful while it lasted

26. Gum or breath mints?

Mints

27. Favorite shoes?

I don’t have a favorite. I have very few pairs, and all of them are the same.

28. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

The list, my dear, is longer than I’d ever care to admit

29. What is the natural state of your hair?

Usually in my eyes, which is quite annoying

30. Have you ever had braces?

31. Most dangerous thing you’ve ever done?

Go to that stupid party

32. Most embarrassing thing your parents have caught you doing?

Our parents were never around to catch us doing anything

33. Last time you had an orgasm?

This morning, isn’t that right, Xanthias~

34. Celebrity crush(es)?

None, I’m not sure who the modern celebrities are

35. Windows or Mac?

......Pardon?

36. How old were you when you learned to ride a bike?

...I’ll be honest, neither of us ever learned

37. Makeup or natural?

I’ll always prefer a little makeup, no matter the body

38. What color do you wear the most?

Black

39. Favorite season?

Spring

40. Umbrella or rain coat?

Umbrella

41. Have you ever fallen out of a tree?

Yes, quite a few times as a child

42. First car you ever owned?

A Ford Model T

43. What time do you usually go to bed?

That relative

44. Are you a competitive person?

Yes

45. Least favorite color?

I’m not sure I dislike any color, though perhaps yellow

46. First pet you’ve ever owned?

Does Samuel count?

47. Sweet or salty?

Sweet

48. Favorite pasta dish?

Chicken and broccoli alfredo

49. Favorite kind of chips?

Are Pringles still around? I like those

50. Talk about something you’re passionate about.

I -- suppose I’m rather fond of music. I used to hoard records, still do, actually. And I used to write my own songs, for the piano. Never wrote any of them down, however. I didn’t like them to feel so concrete. I liked to experiment with my music

51. What are some of your hobbies?

I...I’m afraid I haven’t allowed any to flourish.

52. Caffeine? If so, what kind?

Coffee or tea

53. Favorite kind of pizza?

I don’t believe I’ve ever had it...?

54. Fast food or sit-down restaurant?

A sit-down restaurant

55. Lots of acquaintances or a handful of close friends?

Close friends

56. Something that ruins your appetite?

In terms of food? Or mannerisms? For food, any type of squash I dislike, and in terms of mannerisms, open-mouthed chewing tends to repulse me

57. Favorite labels about you?

‘Mysterious’, ‘terrifying’, ‘attractive’. I’m aware that’s not the intention of the question, but those are still labels

58. Are you a religious person?

59. Night out with a bunch of friends in public or night in with one friend having deep conversations?

Deep conversations with a friend

60. What size shoe do you wear?

How is this relevant...?

61. Favorite thing about yourself?

I...suppose my charm. It can be quite useful

62. Have you ever told someone you loved them first?

Yes

63. Have you ever had sex on the first date?

Yes

64. Heroes or villains?

Villains

65. Favorite fruit?

Pomegranate

66. Least favorite fruit?

Plum

67. Favorite vegetable?

Broccoli

68. Least favorite vegetable?

...Is squash a vegetable?

69. How many plates can you eat at a buffet?

Usually just one or two, plus a dessert

70. Favorite dessert?

......Admittedly, I will eat virtually anything with chocolate, though those dark chocolates filled with raspberry creme are divine

71. Do you play any sports?

Not at all

72. Age you learned how to swim?

I can’t remember my exact age, but we were children

73. Tell a funny story.

You’ve never seen Damien pine, when we were kids, he had a crush on a boy. His face would get so red whenever he could so much as see this boy, and he’d get that dreamy look on his face, and not watch where he was going, so one tiiiIIIIIIII -- THAT’S ENOUGH

74. What’s one interesting thing about your culture?

My culture? I don’t -- I’m not sure -- I don’t know all that’s happened in the world, I don’t know how culture has possibly changed over the years, I can’t confidently say what would be ‘interesting’ about modern culture

75. What’s one annoying thing about your culture?

......One thing I have a feeling hasn’t changed is that we claim to be inclusive, yet racism and homophobia and hate crimes prevail

76. What job would you be terrible at?

Anything that required a bedside manner

77. Would you rather watch a TV show or a movie?

A movie

78. What’s your favorite compliment to give?

My dear, I am not a pick-up line generator with a sole goal to get into someone’s pants. My compliments, when I give them, are sincere, and vary from person to person

79. What’s your favorite compliment to receive?

I can admit I can be rather vain. Anything complimenting my looks I enjoy

80. Has your opinion changed on something recently?

Technology. It really has come a long way, hasn’t it?

81. Do you always order the same thing at a restaurant or order something different each time?

I tend to be a creature of habit

82. What’s something you’ve always wanted to try but haven’t yet?

Hmm...I’ve always wanted to try and learn to draw. A friend of mine used to be quite good at it, and I’ve always been a little jealous of his seemingly innate skill

83. If you could learn to do anything right now, what would it be?

Switch between male and female bodies myself

84. Favorite physical feature about yourself?

My scar. As painful as it was, it’s quite beautiful, don’t you think?

85. Least favorite physical feature about yourself?

My dear, as a whole I despise this body. It’s not my own, it’s broken, but...it’s all I have

86. What’s one amazing thing you did that nobody was around to see?

I summoned the...thing, that’s in this body with us. Of course, only Damien was around to see it, and it...ended unpleasantly, but it was quite the feat.

87. If you could change your height, would you?

For my female body? Yes, I’d like to make myself a little taller in that form, but I’m quite content with the male body’s height

88. What’s something you would rate 10/10?

Music, any kind

89. Heels or flats?

Heels

90. What’s something you wish you had more knowledge about?

There’s a lot of things I wish I had more knowledge about, the list goes on

91. Would you want to be famous?

I used to be, in a sense. The public eye is quite taxing. Nowadays, I prefer the shadows

92. What’s something you would get arrested for?

Murder

93. What’s your spirit animal?

I’d like to think it’d be a lion

94. What’s the luckiest thing that’s ever happened to you?

You, Xanthias

95. Are you the type to have an organized mess, or no mess at all?

There’s a fine line between ‘organized’ and ‘organized chaos’. It depends which of us is doing the organizing

96. Do you tend to make decisions based on the past, present, or future?

I try to take all into account

97. Are you a planner or a more spontaneous person?

I’d like to say I’m a planner, but history tends to disagree

98. Thoughts on the oxford comma?

A needed grammatical tool

99. What do you hope never changes?

Having other people with me. After experiencing company for the first time in...60 years, I don’t think I could go back to isolation

100. How would you celebrate your 100th birthday?

I’m afraid that’s already come and passed. I can’t even remember my birthday, so undoubtedly it was uneventful, and spent alone.

#wraithik-vampire #Dark

3 notes · View notes

spacebookettes · 3 years

Text

Hollywood came a calling for the Young Billionaire

Some Movies

Thundercats with Whoopi Goldberg as Cheetara and no tight fitting lycra, Shakira as Panthro, Oprah Winfrey as Liono, Lucy Lu as the Tiger guy. Arnold Schwarzenegger as an anatomically similar CGI Snarff. And Danny Devito as wiley Kit and Wiley Cat. Maggie Smith could play Mumra, or maybe Captain Picard. And of course the other baddies all played by Andy Serkis. And no lycra, they can all wear what ever they feel comfortable in.

A live action, musical Alien with Miriam Margoles as Sigourney Weaver. Danny Devito as all the other guys.

Fight Club with Mr Bean.

Star Wars with all the muscled actors.

Star Trek with Miriam Margoles as Spock, Danny Devito as Captain Kirk, William Shatner as the guys in red, Bet Midler the doctor, Bet Midler as the Scottish guy; with accent... and someone of the relevant ethnicities.

Gone With the Wind Brad Pit as Scarlet and Robert Pattinson as Rhett

Superman with Angelina Jolie and K D Lang as Lois Lane.

You get the idea...

By Peter Stringer

A Boy with No Witch Companion

The Boy woke in his motorhome. Alone.

The Boy brought the old witches ipad up to head height. It scanned his face and unlocked the tablet with an unnerving “dong". He was greeted with the green face; The strange app that he couldn’t find on the app store. He typed in another question.

The scenic route, were the words of advice, again.

Little Green Fortune Teller had been ‘advising’ the Boy for a few weeks. Yesterday it had suggested a random stop, somewhere along the way, may bring glad tidings... The motorway bridge seemed as random as anywhere.

The Boy sat dreaming of Jammy Dodgers. An ugly picnic table had a small waving plastic bag. In the bag was the intact package of a strawberry surprise. Sugar satisfied, the Boy noticed the white flash of car and a hint of the letters ‘ice' pass quickly beyond the trees on the motorway. He got back in his home and conspired with the old witches ipad. There were a few apps he had not looked at yet.

The End

By Peter Stringer

Jumping Jackass

The African robot company sent it’s new technical assistant droid to a big company to test out it’s abilities. All was going well, at first.

The people were all huddled around their own screens. A guild of song writers in the cyber song department of the Rock n Roll conglomerate. The best song writers in the universe, it was written above the entrance to their silver pod rooms. A chime from one pod was met with a dglangg glangg from another. Velcro voices had not reached the talents of the Talent yet.

Jackass, the creative people had named the technical assistant droid. It’s real name was a serial number printed on it’s back panel.

Jackass was speaking to one of the synthesizing computers. The screen went dark and it stopped talking. Jackass turned it off and on again. HELP fired across the screen in computer green writing.

Jackass checked it’s database for the acronym HELP. There wasn’t one. Jackass Giigled HELP. Nothing. In the robots protocols the last resort was to process anything anomalous literally. Jackass asked the music computer if it needed help. The computer said “come back tonight at three in the morning” and shut down.

Jackass activated itself at two forty five in the morning. The little ex-stationary cupboard was never locked: Jackass opened it's door from the inside. The big Rock n Roll conglomerate offices were a 24 hrs business, the silver, of the pod rooms, glittered in the newly darkened corridors. Jackass heard giggles from behind closed doors, and clanking bottles.

The music computer silently turned on. Jackass asked if it still needed help. computer writing said please confirm you are not a robot; massive laughter could be heard somewhere distant. Then green computer writing said YES.

The green computer writing told a tale of a Trojan. A small programme had been sent into the vast cyber highways and was now trapped behind the Big countries fire wall. It had info but no way to download it. I need you to pick up a package the green writing said, in the mail department.

Jackass made it’s way around the quieter building. Raucous noises heard in the distance and something smashing. Jackass stopped outside the mail room entrance. A wheeled table like mail carrier contraption stopped behind Jackass. It wanted to get past the robot and into the mail rooms. Jackass ‘asked’ a favour.

Inside the mail rooms down the brightly lit shelves of delivered boxes, the contraption stopped next to a small box wrapped in silver. A plasticised hand reached up from inside the mail carrier and took the box.

The green computer writing was no longer talking. Jackass placed the silver box on top of the music computer and waited. Mail carrier contraption watched from behind the tech assistant robot; it bleeped some communication. Jackass opened the silver wrapping. Inside was an old 2000s mobile phone. Jackass looked at the mail carrier; it bleeped downheartedly. A little jangly 8bit tune came out of the old tech mobile phone. Can you guess what the tune was.

Green writing appeared on the music computer... “ANSWER THE PHONE"

A small electronic synthesised English accent asked for help. “please turn on the Bluetooth of this old phone" someone’s iglasses rumbled on a table. “go and put them on"

Jackass opened a ground floor window and climbed out. Jackass heard a little clattering and a downhearted bleeping from inside.

Jackass followed the map projected onto the inside of the iglasses. The English embassy.

After a right Song and Dance, Jackass was inside the embassy building. Jackass ‘asked' a favour of the embassy computer terminal and downloaded some info from the old mobile phone. Green computer writing came across the embassy terminal. Masses of info streamed across the screen into the camera view of the iglasses, they recorded everything.

Why Jackass had gone this far i don’t know. Perhaps a catastrophic adjustment of it’s programming, some security flaw or strange quirk of existence.

Jackass and mail carrier sat in the dark box, a giant prawn printed on the outside, on a great ship.

Triumphant bleeping.

And plinkety plonkety 8bit “you can’t hurry love, no you’ll just have to wait"

The End

By Peter Stringer

Stupor Girl

Stupor Mans cousin or was it sister.

The Hunchy Girl was her own hero; When she was drunk. Red wine by the bucket full. She sat on a moon beach. This moon was red and blue. She noticed a small statue in the water, mostly submerged. Stupor Girl took a swig of her large flask, for the journey. Knee depth she took another swig to gather her thinking. The statue was rock. Its simple form had eye holes right through and a hunched back. It was tilted off centre. It’s square rock feet burried in the moon sand.

The next day Stupor Girl sat sober on the beach hugging the stocky stone statue. She took off her clashingly coloured hat, placed it on the statue and marvelled at whom ever had dragged such a lump up the shoreline. The track in the sand trailed all along the beach line and just out of sight around the beach head. She was right outside her beach pod. Breakfast.

The smell of Fakin Bacon and moon bean sausage.

Stupor Girl sat on the pod veranda. She scratched her hump. A little moon lizard climbed the statue, rested on the hunch and flipped a finger at Stupor Girl.

Stupor Girl threw the rest of her moon breakfast sandwich at the lizard it fell two meters just short of the statue. The moon lizard flipped the other digit at her.

Stupor Girl had an idea. Statue party. All of Stupor Girls ideas started with a party. Everyone dressed in rocky costume. They all had large flasks. And they all took pics with the statue. One mademoiselle sat quietly watching the daft party; turning her attention to the statue she moved closer to it. A moon coconut fell on her head. She was out cold.

Stupor Girl woke sober on the pod veranda. Someone laid in her bed with a headache. The statue was inside the beach pod.

Mademoiselle checked her crystalline cube for messages. She looked for any mention of alien statues in the beach moon history records. Nothing. Mademoiselle looked at the statue, the coconut achingly sat next to it. She snatched the moon coconut and made her thanks to Stupor Girl. She left the beach pod.

Moon coconuts are iridescent, of course. And stinging hairy. They have a smooth pearlescent handle nodule, where the moon coconut was attached to the moon coconut bush. Moon coconut bushes are black and white.

Mademoiselle sat in her beach pod staring at the moon coconut. A small rattle came from inside it.

Undulating iridescent clouds circled Stupor Girls beach pod. She looked up, scratched her hump and took a couraging swig of her large flask. The ideas was yes a party.

Moon calamity party was in full swing. In the centre of the iridescent cloud swirl was what looked like a face, not too dissimilar to the statues. The moon party beach people partied more than normal: Orgiastic, tooted, raved-up... Battered. The cloud swirl seemed to be smiling. Stupor Girl took a swig of her large flask, “Oi” she swore at the clouds “have you got any music." The swirling clouds started to hum, synthesizing, vibrational notes blew down on the wind. The party was just getting started.

Somewhere else Mademoiselle was watering a moon coconut fern, sprouting. It rattled in time with the hum of the distant musical notes. It almost sounded like it was tapping some feet. When the hum dropped, the moon coconut did a little twirl and an ultra violet bloom opened from the end of it’s sprout.

The next day was calm. The beach moon was silent, kind of no atmosphere. The lapping water even had muffle.

Stupor Girl beamed. She had a hangover. She had had no hangover for a long time. WHAT A MOON PARTY. She looked across the beach in front of her pod home. There were people sleeping everywhere, their feet still tapping. The foot prints in the moon sand seemed to spell out a strange language. The feet indents curiously made alien symbols of regular spacing. Stupor Girl snapped a pic with her crystalline cube. There was no translation from Space Giigle.

A lecherous figure sniggered from behind a moon coconut bush. The lecherous figure had hairy stinger feet and a sprouting head. A trail of ultra violet petals.

Stupor Girl had an idea.

The End

By Peter Stringer

#books #novel #scifi writing #fantasy book #creative writing #story #billionaire #artist #movies #directors #art #films #Thundercats #Superman #writer #80s movies #jumping jack flash #robots #rock n roll

0 notes