Is it a Tenpengusa or just a normal comet?

playing rf5 got me thinking about sospoot and some of this may apply a bit to rf also.

I think something pertinent, that I hope occurs to the devs or reaches them somehow, is that SoS games do not need to be AAA productions. It feels like a lot of development time and effort went into pursuing certain “next gen” trends: open world, extensive customization, higher graphical fidelity. All very costly things that maybe some types of people consider “standard” now, and they weren’t BAD at the basic thing of it; I think, personally, that the individual pieces and models look great. I loved the shading and textures on the models. But bokumono games have never been really high budget affairs for how much of a classic they are, and in the end, fans really didn’t care about being able to run seamlessly across 3 farm zones or having nice looking individual tree models or whatever. Some people did really cool things with the customization, but most people found it too limited and cumbersome anyways; everything was arranged in tiny rigid blocks with lots of restrictions in an enclosed and uneven perimeter, there wasn’t actually that much variety in style of individual props nor enough to create unique pairings, you needed to design around having a ton of makers, and to account for resource spawns in the “open world” plain. It’s not something you should add without the manpower to make it not just a gimmick, but an integeral, massive part of the game. You cannot half-ass freeball customization, that kills the point of it.

Instead, they could have not cared about making it “seamless” and designed interesting, enclosed locales, something they’d always been good at; you load into a map and it looks interesting and cute with nonuniform topography, bridges to unlock, landmarks to poke around in, fishing spots and harvestable resources that made sense or were exciting to find because they were specific and felt like “part” of the world. They could have not cared about making high def models and focused on stylization and setbuilding; it’s okay if the bushes and rocks look sort of crunchy if they’re a part of an overall beautifully constructed world/scenery/set that feels like it has a history to it. And all of this would have likely been much easier to optimize, and they wouldnt spend so many resources trying to battle framerate and load issues on what was, ultimately, not a very memorable looking or impressively designed game. And then without all the burdensome baubles hanging off the very skeleton of the thing, they’d be free to put energy into things people DO care about: complex events and character behaviors that dont have to rigidly fit the game’s technical confines, more outfit and body variety that didn’t need to be “perfect”, events and ceremonies that felt special because it’s just way more lightweight to make a whole bunch of different but lovely things. A bunch of hand drawn portraits are typically cheaper for the effect they can provide than hd, varied 3d models with unique animations; which, you NEED to make it look good. People play these games for the way you can find meaning and depth in something outwardly simple; this is the entire spirit. Not the opposite, where you play something that looks shiny and new but has no substance.

& they need to stop thinking kids can’t handle a bit of substance. It is okay if life isn’t perfect in these made up worlds and sometimes things are hard to make sense of or just happen, like people and animals and towns dying, and relationships not working out, and people not always having the best intentions, and having some setbacks and things you can’t do sometimes, things you can’t control because you’re just some humble farmer trying to save a town from depopulation. This series popularized “life sims” for a reason. What is the point of these games if it feels like everyone just spawned into the setting the same time as you did and only exist to tell you nice but empty things

Falling For You -Part 4

December

Pairing-Eventual Dean x Female!Reader

Word count- 6071

Warning- Slight angst, jealousy, one or two swear words,  fluff.  Slow burn.

A/N- I had an idea for a one shot, and giving a backstory to Dean and the Reader meeting took on a life of its own. This story is AU  Thank you to @waywardbeanie and @whatareyousearchingfordean​  for helping me keep these 2 characters in line and letting me bounce ideas off of you.

Summary- After being burned before you had sworn off finding love for now. Coming home from work one night there is a strange man pounding on your door.  Neither of you knew what this meeting would lead to. 

Series Masterlist

Your parents Christmas party was two weeks away, but you had a lot of baking to do, and none of it was started.  Why did you procrastinate?  Oh yeah, not much freezer room here when they are finished, and you had been hanging out with Dean.  Coming home from work on Monday, you got a quick workout in before planning to spend the evening in the kitchen. 

 Recipes out, and ingredients spread on the counter you started working on your first cookie.  Tonight you decided, was peanut butter night, which meant making the dough for peanut butter blossoms first, it would sit overnight and cook tomorrow while you were mixing other dough.  Santa’s peanut butter cookie bars, and the last item of the night no bakes.

While working on the cookie bars there was a knock on your door which had you pausing to answer it. Hands a little sticky you answered the door as best you could. 

“Hey Dean.”

“Hi Y/N, um, you got a little something here, and a here.”  He pointed to one side of your face and then your forehead.  Wiping it off with your hands you made a bigger mess.  

“Moved out almost a week and you forgot where Sam lives already?”  You teased him letting him into your apartment.  

“No, I came over to see if you would like to grab some food with me.  I think you might be a little busy though.”

“Yeah, I’m working on deserts for the Christmas party at my parents in two weeks.  Your invitation should be coming any day, I hope you, your brother and Jess can come.  I know Cas and Meg will be there too.  I was in the middle of baking, but you are welcome to hang out if you want.”

“I got it today actually, I’ll be there.  Have you eaten?”

“No, I haven’t thought about it yet.”

“Alright, so let's order a pizza, and I’ll help with quantity control in the kitchen.”

“I won’t have much for you to control tonight, but pizza sounds good.”

While the bar was cooking you got everything ready for the no bakes, deciding to start them after the pizza arrived.  Eating at the counter next to Dean, he told you about the shop he was working in.  He really liked Bobby, said he was an old grump on the outside but a teddy bear underneath.  Bobby’s wife Ellen  helped with the book keeping some days, she also owned a bar a little outside of town.  He invited you to go with him, Sam and Jess to check it out sometime. Benny and he got along well, he also ran the kitchen at the bar in the evenings.

Santa’s peanut butter bars came out as you were waiting for your no-bake ingredients to boil.  Dean went to cut a piece after you had set it down.

“You know that’s going to be extremely hot right?”

“It will cool in a minute, everything is better right out of the oven.”  Shaking your head you went back to stirring your pot. “Oh that was good,” came from Dean a few minutes later.  “When did you start baking?”

“My mom used to do it all, I’d help with what I could when I was little.  Dumping in the ingredients she already measured, or stirring the batter after she mixed it.  When you’re a kid you think you are so much help.  Then we started doing it together as I got older, I learned from her.  Over time I’ve found some of my own recipes to make, or put my spin on others.  The last couple of years I’ve taken on most of the party baking, but there are one or two things we will make together for it.”

“You’ve got a real talent for it.”

“Thank you, but you don’t have to humor me.”  

Dean wasn’t sure what to say to that, just looking at the back of your head while you were stirring. “It can be a great stress relief too when I’m frustrated with someone or something. It also forces me to find time for the gym.”  You continued on not noticing his pause. 

You had made a double batch of no-bakes and when they were ready, had talked Dean into helping you spoon them out.  As the pot they were in cooled down Dean stuck a finger in the still soft cookie batter before putting it in his mouth.

“Dean, what are you doing?” Trying to keep a stern face as you looked at him. 

“Oh, I’m sorry did you want a taste?”  He dipped another finger and spread it over your lips before tapping your nose.  Neither of you moving, eyes locked on one another before Dean’s ringing phone broke you apart.  He went into the living room to take the call, while you wiped off your face and tried to figure out what that was between you.  Nothing, right?  You guys were just friends, neither of you wanted more, you were seeing things that weren’t there.

“That was Bobby, I have to go.  There is a late delivery coming into the shop he was expecting in the morning and he isn’t there to let them in.  You um, doing anything this week, or weekend?” He seemed a little more hesitant when he asked that.

“You’re looking at it.  Maybe some cleaning and decorating I’m a little behind on it.”

“You need any help?”

“I don’t know about help, but I’ll always take the company if you want.”

“Okay, I’ll see you sometime this week.  Night Y/N.”

“Night Dean,” locking up after him you let your thoughts drift to the green eyed man causing you so much confusion.  Two months ago you both wanted to avoid relationships, you still didn’t think you were ready to get back out there.  You really didn’t want to misread anything from him and scare him away either.    

It was Friday night before you saw Dean again, a knock coming just after 5:30.  This time he appeared at your door with beer, and burgers. 

“Hi, you didn’t have to bring food.”

“Did you eat?”

“No, not yet.”

“Did you have anything here to eat?”

“I probably could have figured out something.” 

“Yeah, the burgers were needed. This way more time to work on whatever tonight's project is.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it.  Tonight's goal is frosting the sugar cookies I baked yesterday, making the frosting topping for the Cranberry Bliss bar, and the cake for the petit fours.”

“I’m not sure which question to ask first.  I’m going to go with what the hell is a petty four?”

Not able to hide a smile and small chuckle you looked at him as you handed him a plate for his burger and fries.  “Petit four, ever seen those small cake looking things that are like an inch or smaller, decorated fancy?”

“Maybe?  I pay more attention to the pie.  Speaking of, are you making any of those?”

“Not exactly, I have cherry pie cookie cups. Petit fours are a type of cake with layers of frosting and I also do a fruit filling in mine too.”

“Sounds complicated, but back to where are these cookie pies?  I think I need to check them for you.”

“Sorry, I was out of freezer room here, they already went to my parent’s freezer.  And yes, they are complicated.  I’ll make the cake today, then it has to cool and slightly freeze,  the filling, frosting and glaze will get made this weekend and then put all together.”

“I don’t have that kinda patience. Next question, what are you going to do with all this?”

“It’s a big party, we go through a lot then.  It will go back in the freezer after, and the week leading up to Christmas we’ll get it back out and make up trays to give away to friends, business we deal with, and have some left over for Christmas.”

“What does one have to do to get on this list, sweetheart?”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure one will find its way to your door. 

“What all is on your party list?”

“The things from Monday, and tonight, buckeyes, cherry cheesecake bar, two different truffles, fudge, cranberry cookies, candies, white chocolate ginger cookies, and choc cherry brownie bites, polar bear faces and some candies.”

“Next week is helping mom clean, with any last minute decorations she hasn’t done, then food Thursday and Friday night. Saturday is the party, Sunday I might not get out of bed.”

Dean laughed at that, “I never said I was joking Winchester.”

“Alright, alright so what are we doing first?”

“You really want to help me?  You are welcome to turn on the television and just hang out.”

“Nope, I’m here to bake sweetheart.”

You offered to let him pick something on tv, but he declined so you turned on Hallmark Christmas movies to help you both get in the Christmas spirit.  Dean helped you put together the cake for the petit fours, so that could get cooking first.  Frosting sugar cookies was next, you had done a few cut outs, but you preferred plain old circles.  It saved time and could be decorated any way.  The frosting colors were always tied in to that year's decoration colors.  This year was blue, white and silver, unfortunately you hadn’t found a silver paste coloring yet.  You were going to make three different shades of blues and a simple white. The powdered sugar needed to be shifted still to help keep the frosting smoother. You gave that job to Dean while you got the rest of the ingredients ready.

“Oops,”  you heard from behind you.  Turning around Dean had put too much powdered sugar in at once then apparently leaned over to see what he was doing. Now he was wearing some on his face and shirt. 

“Here,”  handing him a wet rag you helped him clean up a little. 

“Wouldn’t it be easier to use store bought?”

“Yes, but this recipe tastes better, has a better consistency for decorating with it, and dries so I can stack them without ruining the design.”

“Whatever you say Betty Crocker.”

The two of you both grabbed some cookies and started to decorate, at one point you looked up and had to look away so Dean wouldn't see your smile.  The man really likes his sprinkles apparently.  

“Wow!”  You looked up quickly to see what caused that reaction from Dean.

“What?”

“Your frosting on those, that’s like store bought good.”

Feeling the blush heat up your face you smiled at him, “Thanks, I’ve had a lot of practice over the years.  Watched a lot of decorating tips too.”

It was a lot of fun decorating the cookies with Dean, you goofed off a little and tried to “help” each other with the cookie the other was working on at that time.  That ended with some, let’s say interesting looking cookies thrown in with the others. 

“Hey Dean,” You got his attention while you headed to the sink with the last of the remaining frosting.  “I think you got a little something right here,” as you tapped him on the nose with a blue spoon quickly getting out of his reach. 

While you were standing at the sink he came up behind you and wiped his frosted nose on the shoulder of your dark green shirt.  “Dean!”  Neither of you could hold in your laughter.

The last task of the night was the frosting to the Cranberry bars.  Dean had snuck a few bits of everything tonight, but you didn’t care.  He had earned it.  This had been the most fun baking you had had in a long time.  

Neither of you had to work tomorrow and retired to the couch to watch a movie when you were all cleaned up.  The temperature had dropped this week and despite the heat being on still a little chilly in the apartment.  There was  a blanket behind Dean he grabbed before sitting next to you and tossing it over you both.  You didn’t realize as the movie went on you leaned a little closer in to Dean until he put his arm around your shoulders anchoring you close.

Dean was telling you about his week and how he met the owner’s step daughter, Jo, this week.  She had been in everyday to take care of the paper work for Ellen since she had problems at the bar to take care of.  According to Dean she was a bit of a talker, and kept coming to the back of the shop where he was working.

Oh you fool, you thought, she’s trying to flirt with you, not just talk.  “Was she just there this week?”

“Not sure, I heard her tell Bobby she would be happy to take it over if they wanted her too.”

Of course she would,  she wants to see you, went through your head, but all you said “Oh,”  You're not looking to date, you have no right to be jealous of her flirting with Dean or hanging out with him at work.  Not that he would be interested; he only wants friends right now too, but you found yourself worrying about Dean falling for her.  

Dean looked around your apartment as he was walking out, “Not much time for decorating yet?”

“I’m going to work on that tomorrow.  What about you?  How is your house coming?”

“I only had a few decorations I put up, I won’t be up here anyways.” 

“No?  Your parents aren’t coming back up?”

“No, we are heading to them.  Jess’ parents are going on a cruise that leaves the 26th so Sam and her are heading to see them before Christmas and will meet us in Kansas. I took the week of Christmas off, I’ll drive there either the 20th or 21st and come back here the 27th.   Are your parents staying in town for Christmas?

“Yep, we have it at their house every year, and my aunt should be good to travel by then.”

“That’s good, see you tomorrow.” 

“What?”  He just winked at you and shut the door.  Did you have plans you were forgetting?

Late Saturday morning while you were fighting with branches there was a knock at your door.  A bright eyed Winchester was waiting to be let in, his coffee in hand.

“I didn’t have plans today, and thought I’d give you some help.  Plus I wanted to see how the petty things went together.”  He looked at the corner where you had been working, “What is that mess?”

“That’s my tree, thank you very much, and it’s petit four.”

“You know real is the way to go.”

“Says the man with no tree.  Maybe it is, except when you live alone, and would have to water it and check it everyday and you have an allergy to the branches making you break out in red itchy spots.”

“Okay, you win.”

Dean helped you get the tree together and put the ornaments up.  When you finished with that you got the petit fours out to finish. Dean watched you adding layers to the bottom half of the cake, then put the top half on doing the same, helping when he could.

“Getting the glaze on is the hardest part, mine never look as good as ones you can get in a store.”

“I think they look awesome, if I tried these mine wouldn’t be half as good.”

You had ingredients in your cupboard for pasta so you started that inviting Dean to stay for dinner.  The night ended much like the last with the two of you side by side watching a movie on the couch.

The next week was pretty busy for you helping at your parents, it went fairly quickly though.  Usually during the week you will talk to Dean a few times and text almost everyday, even if it’s just sending the other a funny picture.  This week you hadn’t heard from him at all.  Guess he was too busy at work with Jo. 

The party had been going on for an hour and you still hadn’t seen Dean yet.  Sam, Jess, Cas and Meg had all arrived half an hour ago.  

It was thirty minutes later when Dean finally arrived. Finding his brother and friend first he said hello to them before looking for you.  Finally spotting you talking to a group of people, he hung out behind you for a few minutes before a woman looked up at him and said hello.  This had you turning around.

“Hello Dean, so glad you could finally make it.”  Was it chilly in here or just your voice.

“Oh, you’re Dean!”  Exclaimed the woman who first spotted him.

“Yeah, that’s me,”  he gave her a small smile.

The woman looked to you before going back to Dean, “It’s nice to finally meet you, it seems like my daughter has forgotten her manners. I'll introduce myself, I’m Alicia. It's nice to meet you. Y/N said you had helped her with the baking last week.  I have to say you two make a great team, thank you for helping her.”  She glanced over at you looking at the floor, “I need to go check the food, I’m sure I’ll see you around, Dean.”

“Sorry I’m late, I got called back into work.”

“The shop closes at one on Saturday’s, it’s 8:30 now. Did you walk home and then here?”

“No, Jo was trying to finish up paperwork for November that had to be sent in today.  She called me in to explain some of the notes, and expenses.  Bobby and Ellen were out of town today so she couldn’t ask them.  It took awhile and she wanted to grab dinner, I told her I had a party to be at, but she kept pushing and I went with her for one drink.”

“It’s fine Dean, nothing said you had to be here when it started, or stay the whole time.  Have fun, your brother and Cas are around here somewhere.  I need to go check the dessert table.”  

Turning and quickly walking away, Dean was too caught off guard by your distance to follow right away.  You had never given him the cold shoulder like that, he didn’t like it.  By the time he caught up to you again, someone else had pulled you into conversation.  Waiting a few minutes for you to finish, finally deciding to go find Sam and the rest of that group when you didn’t.  He was fairly certain you were upset with him, and that didn’t sit well at all.

He passed by the food set up in the dining room, and kept going.  As much as he was starving when he got here, he seemed to have lost his appetite now.  Meg and Jess were gone when he rejoined the guys.  He pretended to listen to their conversation, but he wasn’t really there.  Why were you so mad, was it because he was late, or did something else happen?  Why did you care when he showed up, there were numerous other people here.  His original plan was to come early and see if you needed help, but going over paperwork with Jo took much longer than expected.  She couldn’t seem to concentrate on her work.   

Excusing yourself from the family friend who cornered you , you made your way to your old room.  Needing a few minutes of alone time to calm yourself down.  You were jealous, but no way would you admit that to anyone else.  Your door opened minutes after you shut it, looking up Jess and Meg walked in sitting across from you on the bed.  

“Partied out already, or hiding from someone?”  Meg gave you a knowing look waiting for your answer.  “You do know Dean is downstairs right?”

“Neither, I just needed a minute, too many people down there for me.  Yeah, I know he finally showed up, not that I care”

“Liar,”  spoke up Jess.

“The two of us are completely sure you being up here has nothing to do with a green eyed bowlegged mechanic you have been looking for all night.”

“Nope, not at all. Why should I care if he spent the evening helping the boss’ daughter do paperwork, or that he took her out for dinner.”  Staring at your friends you didn’t say anything else. 

“Yep you're just fine,”  when you didn’t say anything else Meg continued, “know we are here whenever you want to talk about whatever is going on in your head.”

You all rejoined the party.  This was always one of your favorite nights as much as you were looking forward to having Dean here tonight, you weren’t up to seeing him right now.  You had caught up with your friends on and off the rest of the night.  Mostly when Dean had stepped away.  You were ready for the night to be over.

Sunday morning Dean stood outside your apartment door knocking without any answer.  The door behind him opened but he didn’t realize it until hearing a voice he knew well.

“You know I live in 43 right?”

“Yes, bitch, I do.  Y/N lives in 44.  She was off last night and I wanted to talk to her.  Picked up breakfast on the way over so she wouldn’t have to make anything.  But if she doesn’t open the door I can’t give it to her.”

“Jerk, It’s still a bit early, did you text her?”

“Yeah, but she didn’t respond.”

“You’re welcome to wait for her in here if you want to try again in a bit.”  After knocking again, he followed Sam inside.

Rolling over in bed, you reached over petting the dog laying next to you.  You missed having a dog around, but your apartment wasn’t pet friendly.  Grabbing a sweatshirt you made your way downstairs to see what your parents were up to.  You had decided to spend last night in your old room so you would be here to help with any more clean up this morning.  It was a good hour later when it finally dawned on you that you hadn’t checked your phone this morning.  Picking it you realized the battery died, and you didn’t bring a charger.  You were the only one without an iPhone so their chargers wouldn’t work on yours.  That will have to wait till I get home later.

Getting off the elevator later that afternoon you ran into Sam.  “Hey, Dean was looking for you earlier, but you never answered your door.  He waited for awhile, but had to get going.”

“I stayed at my parent’s last night, and didn’t take a charger for my phone.  Thank you guys for coming last night.”

“It was fun, thanks for inviting us.  When your phone has a charge, text Dean back, he has texted me a few times since he left asking if I’ve seen you.”

“Alright, talk to you later Sam.”

When your phone finally had some life you sent Dean a text apologizing for missing him when you weren’t home.

“Can I come over?” Dean texted back.

You had to debate with yourself whether you wanted him to or not.  He had done a lot to help you last week, and been a much needed friend.  Did he really deserve the cold shoulder because you were jealous?  You texted back ‘If you want.’

Fifteen minutes later there was a knock on the door, putting on a smile you let Dean in.  Maybe you could pretend your behavior last night didn’t happen. 

“Hi Dean.”

“Hey Y/N, thanks for letting me come over.”

“Not a problem, how was your day?”

“Alright, a little worried my friend is mad at me, and I really want to fix that. I’m sorry I was so late.  I was actually going to come early and see if you needed help, I’m sorry work got in the way.  I tried to bring you breakfast this morning so you wouldn’t have to get out of bed and mess with anything this morning.”

Guess he wasn’t going to go along with your plan to pretend it didn’t happen. “I’m sorry Dean, I shouldn’t have gotten that upset.  You didn’t have to be there right at 7, I was excited to have you there last night and it shouldn’t have mattered when you came. I should have enjoyed having you there when you arrived.  I ruined it for both of us, I’m sorry. Sorry, I missed breakfast with you this morning.”

“It’s okay, I just really don’t want to lose my friend.  If you really wanted to make it up to me, go shopping with me tomorrow night?  I need some help with Jess and Mom, please?” He gave you the best puppy dog eyes he could muster. 

“Sure, I still have a bit to do also.”  Dean had been the best thing to happen to you in awhile, you didn’t want to lose him either.  Hopefully a night at the mall could help things go back to the way they were. “Pick me up after work?”

“I’d be happy to.”

“Have you eaten dinner yet? I have leftovers from the party if you want to stay for dinner?”

“Seriously? Yes, I  didn’t end up getting anything last night.”

Both of you worked in the morning, so instead of starting a movie after dinner you just turned a tv show on.  Tonight you two didn’t sit as close as you previously did, honestly you missed it. You made small talk, he asked how things were at your parents’ house.  You told him everything cleaned up fairly quick, staying there made you miss having your dog around. 

Snow was lightly falling on the way to the mall, you were hoping for a white Christmas. Dean asked about your day, not much happened for you at work.  He was telling you about a classic car that just came in he was working on.  He really enjoyed his job, his green eyes shining as he talked about the different parts that needed restoring.

Arriving at the mall it became clear Dean really didn’t have any ideas on what to get either woman, so you offered various suggestions in the stores you were in.  Finally getting Jess done, Dean picked up a scarf you knew she wanted, and some fun picture frames to go on her collage wall.  His mom was proving trickier.  

“Any hobbies?” you asked, leaving the 6th different store. 

Dean thought for a moment, “She does like horror movies.”

“Yeah, I’m coming to realize you are all obsessed with monsters.  How about not for Christmas. Any place she mentioned she would want to go?”

He thought for a few minutes “Actually I heard her talking to Jess about a new place that opened up in town.”  When Dean finished telling you about you pulled out your phone to see if you could google it.  Finding what you needed you explained your idea to Dean and what you could get up here and what he would need to get once he was back in Kansas. 

With that  accomplished you two wandered around a few more stores looking for items to fill the rest of your lists.

Thursday was the next time you saw Dean, running into him in the apartments’ parking lot.  He was on his way to meet Sam for something.  Making small talk in the elevator, without thinking you asked something you didn’t really want to know.

“How’s Jo been?”

Dean gave you a funny look, “I don’t really know,  she hasn't been in the shop the last couple days.”

“Oh, I thought you might talk to her outside of work.”  What are you doing Y/N, do you really want to know this.  

“No. I don’t really have a reason to need to talk to the boss’s daughter outside of work.”

“Okay.  I have something in my apartment for you, I meant to drop off.  If you have time stop over before you leave.”

“Is it pie?”

“Sorry, not this time.”

When you got inside your apartment you went to check and see what ingredients you had in your cupboard. Finding pecans and a pack of crescent rolls you decided to whip up something quick.  A little over an hour later you heard a knock at your door.  Inviting Dean in you walked back over to the kitchen where the timer was going off.

“Something smells amazing.”

“I didn’t have any fruit to make a regular pie filling, but I did have some pecans I never used for the party, I made you a pecan pie bar, I hope it’s okay.”  You could almost see Dean’s mouth start to water.  “I’ll get you a fork and plate.”

“I don’t need a plate, the pan is fine.”

While Dean was eating you grabbed the item you picked up for him from the spare room.

“I know you don’t have a tree because you won’t be here for Christmas, but I thought you needed something.  Even if it’s not real.”  You had picked him up a little prelit tree and decorated it to have in his house.  

“It’s great, thanks Y/N.  You didn’t have to do that though.”  Dean gave you a hug as you set it down next to the pan of bars. 

“I know, I wanted to.  You can set it on that skinny table you have and set the presents underneath it after you wrap them.”

“Oh, that’s right I have to wrap them.  Hey sweetheart, do you think you might come over one night and help me with…”

“Seriously Winchester?  How would you ever make it without me, do you even have paper?” Laughing you agreed to come over Saturday and wrap what he had.  

“Of course I do.”

Knowing you were just hanging around the house and wrapping presents you put on yoga pants and a baggy sweatshirt to head to Dean’s knowing he would be hanging out in sweats by now too.  Sure enough he answered the door in a grey henley and black sweats.  The fireplace was on in the living room and with the presents and wrapping paper on the coffee table.  Dean ordered pizza and found Die Hard on tv.  He was sitting on the couch watching you work, when you looked up at him.

“Are you planning on helping me at all or just watching?”

“Which answer won’t get me in trouble?” The bitch face you sent his way might rival Sam’s.  “I was kidding, I was just watching how you do it.  Very nice wrapping by the way.”  The roll of wrapping paper flying at him barely missed his arm. 

Two presents into Dean wrapping, you knew why he wanted help.  When the pizza arrived you set him free. Finishing the last gift you leaned back against the couch rolling your shoulders to loosen them up after being hunched over.  Dean was sitting up on the couch behind you and  leaned down to rub your stiff shoulders. 

“Thanks for that.”

“Least I could do for you wrapping those.”  Before you left for the night you put the gifts under his tree best you could.

You spent the next week trying to catch up with your own Christmas shopping, get the cards in the mail, and trying to find time to just enjoy the Holidays.  Friday night you, Charlie, Meg and Jess donned your best ugly sweaters and leggings, spending the evening at your place vegging out and watching movies.  

You woke up early Saturday morning to head to Dean’s house before he left. Knocking on his door he was surprised to see you.

“I just wanted to stop over before you left.  I brought you some of the desserts to take to your parents house.”  You had given Dean a plate of them the weekend before when you came over to wrap.  “I expect those to make it to Kansas so you better put them in the trunk.”

“I don’t know sweetheart, I might need a snack for the road.  Eleven hours is a long trip.”

“I figured you would, there is a bag of the cherry pie cookies in there for you.”

“You are too good to me.”  Giving you a kiss on the cheek he walked past you to put them in his car while you followed him over. 

“Do you need help doing anything before you go?”

“I’m all set, car is loaded, just have to refill the coffee in my travel mug, wash the pot and lock up the house.  

Waiting while Dean finished with his coffee you walked out to the car with him.  “Have a safe trip, and Merry Christmas.  See you when you get back.”

“Thank you sweetheart.  Thanks for your help and the cookies. Have a Merry Christmas yourself.”  With a hug you walked to your own car watching the Impala drive away. 

You were definitely going to miss him this week. A little after one that afternoon you received a text from Dean saying he was in Springfield, Illinois and halfway there, he would text you when he arrived at his parents. Around seven, that text arrived along with a picture of a house you were guessing belonged to John and Mary. The two of you talked a few times over the week, he called later than usual Tuesday night, and seemed to be really down.  

On Christmas Eve you went to Mass with your family before heading to your parents house for dinner with your grandparents, some of your parents siblings, and cousins.  Games followed and a few hours later the house cleared out.  You spent the night there since you would be having Christmas morning there with your dad’s family.  Dean had texted you a few times throughout the day, Sam arrived today so you hoped he could help his brother with whatever was going on. 

Christmas morning you sent Dean a text before helping your mom with breakfast.  Your dad’s family spent the morning at the house before heading elsewhere for the afternoon.  Your mom’s family started coming over around 2, they stayed for dinner and games.  You loved your family but were glad to have an empty house spending time with your parents when everyone was gone.

That evening you went back to your apartment.  Sitting on the couch looking at your Christmas tree you saw a big gift bag Jess had dropped off before leaving town.  She told you you couldn’t open it till Christmas, that was now right?  Grabbing it you brought it back to the couch with you. 

First you pulled out a big oddly wrapped lump, unwrapping it you found a Chocolate Lab plush.  He reminded you of your dog you had growing up. The next item was a t-shirt that had you cracking up.  In the bottom of the bag was a card.

Y/N, 

I think this goes to show what we both already knew, I can’t wrap worth a damn.  This guy reminded me of the pictures I have seen in your apartment.  He might not be able to follow you around, or bark at strangers, but hopefully he can keep you company.  I got a laugh out of the shirt and I hope you do too.    

Merry Christmas Sweetheart,

Dean

  Dean called you later that evening.

“Hi, Merry Christmas Dean.”

“Merry Christmas to you Y/N.  How was your day?”

“It was good.  Scooby and I are relaxing back home now.”

“Good, um who’s Scooby?”

“This really cute chocolate lab plush that my good friend got me.  Thank you Dean, he’s great.”

“Not a problem Sweetheart. Glad you like him, Scooby?”

“That was my dog's name growing up, I was a big Scooby Doo fan.  Still am”

He started laughing, “So was I.  Yeah, I wouldn’t rush to change the channel if it was on now either.”

 The two of you talked more about your days.   He was ready to leave, but Sam and Jess were riding back with him, and he didn’t want to pull them away yet.  Something happened while he was home, he didn’t sound like himself.  If you had to guess it was why he called you Tuesday night.  You wondered if you would find out what that was.

Part 5

Thank you for reading!

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NEW CHAPTER!! 😊

Two scenes in this chapter were inspired by art created by @negativesd09 and @emkayoh, I have linked their work in the end notes. 

....

Ever since Peter Anthony Stark was born, he had become the definition of a Daddy’s boy, plain and simple. Perhaps it was because he shared two of his names with his father, or perhaps it was because his father had been there to take care of him and love him when his mother could not – whatever it was, one thing was for certain, Peter Stark absolutely adored him.

He was always smiling and giggling in delight when his Daddy was in the room. His first word had been ‘Dada’ and his first steps had been to toddle towards his astonished father when the mansion’s A.I notified the billionaire of the new progression occurring in the child’s nursery.

There was nothing Tony Stark could do wrong in Peter’s eyes. At times, he was the only one who saw through the protective layers the genius had built over the years to see the loveable; (for lack of a better word) dorky side to the apparent well put together billionaire and business tycoon.

Tony Stark wasn’t like his father. From the first time he held his new born son in his arms and gazed down in awe at the perfect little face with the tiny upturned nose, fingernails the size of a grain of rice and two beautiful dark chocolate brown eyes (an identical pigment to his own irises), he knew that he would not be Howard. He would not let his child feel neglected, worthless and the symbolism of disappointment as he had been growing up in the spotlight.

The love he had for Peter was indescribable, but those closest to him could see the irreparable bond Tony shared with his child. They were inseparable and so alike, not just in looks, but in their shared curiosity and urge to learn more, to thrive on in their own creative roots. Neither Pepper, Rhodey or Happy would ever deny that Tony was an excellent father. He had changed since Peter had arrived. The drinking and all-nighters were a relic of the past.

Now, Peter was the centre of the billionaire’s world. It hadn’t been easy at first, but the little boy who shared his eyes and his high IQ had wormed his way into the billionaire’s closed heart and Tony knew deep down that he could not live without Peter. One of the best parts about being a father was seeing the pure admiration and adoration in his child’s eyes and it was very clear even from the early days when the young Stark couldn’t even form words, that Peter felt exactly the same.

There was only one problem with this mutual strong connection the father and son shared. Peter had separation anxiety. He was incredibly susceptive to physical affection, which was all his father’s fault because the man couldn’t resist kissing those cute chubby cheeks and mop of curls on a daily basis whenever he cuddled his kid in his arms.

At the age of four, Peter hadn’t changed apart from growing a little taller and expanding his knowledge with the genius mind he had inherited from his father. He was still as adorable as ever and Tony just couldn’t resist the inevitable urge to swing his little one into the air, heart swelling with love as the boy squealed and giggled in infectious delight at the playful action, before bringing him down and planting small kisses all over his little face like there was no tomorrow. This type of hyper scene occurred on a daily basis and it was no wonder that Peter often craved this indulgent affection as he had been raised to expect it.  

Tony had been brought in a cold household with a detached and distant father. The only affection he received was from his mother and JARVIS, therefore as far as he was concerned he was entitled to ensure his own son knew that he was loved and cherished. Tony had very rarely experienced the tender, intimate moments he shared with his child when he was Peter’s age. He read to Peter, played with him, made him his breakfast, lunch and dinner and did everything with his son that Howard had missed out on.

As aforementioned, the only problem with his parenting style was that Peter couldn’t stand to be parted from him. Tony always dreaded the inevitable business meetings where he was required to be out of Malibu a couple nights at a time, because he knew his kid would be unhappy and there was nothing he could do to sway him.

His son loved Pepper, his Uncle Rhodey and Uncle Happy, but they weren’t his Daddy and no-body would ever be able to live up to the standards that his father had set. Tony never admitted it out loud, but the truth was that he hated being separated from his son too, even if it was easily perceived by Pepper when she witnessed first-hand how jittery and reserved the genius became when he couldn’t be with Peter.

It just so happened that another business meeting was just around the corner yet again. Both he and Pepper were meant to be there, and Rhodes was busy with his duties for the army, so that just left Happy to watch Peter whilst Tony was away for his eleven o’clock slot.

Happy was fond of Peter, but he wasn’t naturally attuned to children’s wants and needs and he often grumbled under his breath when he thought the others couldn’t hear when the little boy would cry or would enter his ‘bratty’ phase. It was very rare for Peter to do this, but it happened, as it did with all four-year olds from time to time.

Tony was keen to keep his boy distracted and entertained for the morning before he would have to leave. He had told Peter about the meeting when he went to wake him up early that morning with a gentle, warm hand stroking his son’s back to rouse him from his slumber and a soft kiss to his curls. The boy was too lethargic to properly take the meaning behind his father’s words in and had mumbled some incoherent words at the mention of the business meeting, before rolling onto his back and snuggling into the man’s sturdy chest, nuzzling his face into the crook of his Daddy’s neck.

Tony huffed a laugh at the gesture, well used to Peter being pretty unresponsive and even more clingy when he first woke up and the billionaire was only too obliged to hold his kiddo close and carry him to the kitchen to make some blueberry pancakes together and forget their worries. Heading down to the lab was the next point on the agenda.

The workshop underneath the main floor of the mansion was their favourite place. It had always been Tony’s main area of expertise, of course, as it allowed him to indulge in his genius ideas and creations and it was where he felt most at home.

As Peter was his little shadow, naturally that meant that the father had had to make a few changes to the lab to ensure it was safe for a baby to be in. The soft foamed area specifically designed for Peter, created by Tony, had been installed soon after his kid begun to display a certain neediness to be with his Daddy nearly twenty-four seven.

Peter didn’t spend all his time in his highly efficient playpen though. That was only reserved for times when his father was working on something dangerous like tasering some loose wires or working with small intricate designs which required tiny bolts and gadgets that were liable for little feet to accidentally tread on. Peter spent many a time in his father’s arms when the man wasn’t working with his hands, sitting in his Daddy’s lap and basking in the warmth and comfort that only a parent could provide.

When his son was a baby, Tony would often sit cross-legged on the floor, cradling the little one in his arms and browsing through online articles and profiles about particular topics and public figures. Peter loved the blue glow that came from the screens that seemed to float in mid-air…

…

…“Da!” The baby chirped, waving one small chubby arm at a photo of an old car model from the 1960s which the billionaire was interested in buying.

“Mhm,” Tony hummed, lifting his son so he was standing on the man’s legs to see the picture better. “What do you think, Pete? A worthy investment?” He asked, resting his chin on the top of the boy’s fuzzy chestnut curls.

Peter didn’t answer with any coherent words, but he babbled enthusiastically whilst waving his little fist, drool trailing down his chin.

The father deciphered that the only reason why his kid was drawn to this 1967 Shelby Cobra model was because it was blue. It was the colour of Peter’s nursery walls, even though this was a royal blue instead of the sky shade his room boasted, but it was smart lick of paint, Tony would give it that.

“A fitting endorsement if I ever saw one,” the billionaire remarked, tilting his chin to place a quick kiss to the top of the boy’s head, before leaning round the small body to wipe away the trail of drool with the sleeve of his long-sleeved Metallica top. The baby squirmed and wriggled but didn’t whimper as he was used to the man fretting over him. “You’re a little dork, you know?” He teased.

Peter’s little face broke into a big slobbery grin at his father’s playful tone and the tickly feeling of the beard which was scratching against the side of his face as the man leaned close to him.

He burst into a fit of giggles, Tony’s favourite sound in the world, which spurred him to grin and snigger at how perfect his little boy really was, nuzzling his face against Peter’s and scattering loads of small kisses all over his baby’s face.

“Yeah, you’re a crazy monkey, aren’t you? Crazy baby,” Tony joked between kisses, heart swelling with warmth when his kid squealed with laughter and wriggled even more.

Peter babbled some other incoherent words, but his delighted laughter was enough. Tony chuckled, warmly, rubbing his face against the little tuft of hair and closing his eyes as he inhaled the sweet smell of the apple scented shampoo he had applied the night before and something that was distinctly Peter.

“Love you, baby,” the father murmured after a few moments once the boy’s infectious giggles had reduced and the gummy smile was all that remained. Peter snuffled and cooed, nuzzling into the man’s warmth and the two remained down in the lab for the rest of the day.

Pepper found them a few hours later in a rather unresponsive state. Tony was splayed out in the playpen, top discarded beside him and Peter was lying on his bare chest.

Both were sleeping soundly, cute little snuffles escaping the baby as he nuzzled into the spot right above his father’s heart and the man’s hand was resting protectively on the child’s back, jaw slackened in his relaxed state but the steady grip on his son never faltering.

Pepper downright cooed at the sight and immediately asked JARVIS to take a photo and a video; smirking when he replied with an almost response that could almost be described as fond (even though it was technically an AI): “I already have, Miss Potts.”

…

Tony loved that picture. He had plenty of photos in a file named ‘Peter Anthony Stark’, where JARVIS had been like his own personal cameraman; always being there to capture the moments, but that photo definitely had to be in the billionaire’s top five that they had collected over the past four years.

Lab time was still special, especially as Peter was big enough now to sit at his own desk and work on drawings or small DIY projects, whilst the genius tinkered a few feet away. It was the perfect way to keep his kid occupied for the morning until Happy arrived.

After devouring the blueberry pancakes, Tony scooped Peter up into his arms, licking his finger and wiping away the syrup which had spilled down the boy’s chin.

“Okay, I know you love your old man’s cooking like a champ, but you wanna try actually getting it in your mouth next time, buddy?” Tony teased, light-heartedly, tickling underneath his kid’s chin, eliciting approving giggles from the little boy as he squirmed uncontrollably in his father’s hold. “You crazy demon child,” the man remarked, indulgently, bouncing the boy on his hip and tickling across his little tummy as he wandered over to the staircase leading down to the lab.  

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!” Peter chirped, grinning from ear to ear and practically squealing when he realised where his father was leading them.

“Peter, Peter, Peter!” Tony replied on an instant, chuckling at the bright shine in his son’s doe eyes.

“Daddy, I wanna, I wanna dress up as you! I wanna be you!” He was vibrating with excitement, bouncing a couple of times as he was barely able to contain his enthusiasm.

“Really? You wanna look like Daddy today?” Tony commented in mirth, smirking at his kid as he typed the pass code into the security panel. Peter was currently in his space themed pyjama top and bottoms, but he had his trainers on just in case there were sharp objects on the floor.

“Mhm! Wanna be like you!” Peter expressed, enthusiastically with a serene nod, as if it was the most ordinary, everyday request. It definitely was for the son of Iron Man.

“Alright, kiddo. We’ll muck about down here for a bit and then we’ll get you in your armour,” Tony joked, thinking about the Iron Man styled onesie hanging up in the boy’s wardrobe.

They didn’t do anything too complicated as it was still early, and Peter was still tired, even though one wouldn’t know it by looking at the ecstatic ball of energy, but Tony knew that it wouldn’t be long until he crashed with the way his crazy kid was going on. The genius asked JARVIS to play some soft pop music for background noise and he let Peter sit in his lap as he sat in front of the monitors and messed about on the internet and make notes on his upcoming projects for an hour or two.

It was getting closer to eleven and Tony’s heart sunk as he realised he would have to leave Peter soon, which was made even worse because of how perfect the morning had been up until this point. He wanted to make things as smooth as possible by keeping his son entertained, but it almost seemed to have backfired back onto the man since he would have to ruin the relaxed, peaceful mood he had created.

Tony sighed, deeply, ruffling his son’s curls in the process from where his chin was resting on top of his head. He clicked off the document he had been working on and tilted his head to gaze down at his son, who was fiddling with an Iron Man action figure and one in the shape of an alien, making cute little “pow!” and “bang!” sounds as he made them fight each other.

The man brought his lips down and blew a small raspberry on the spot behind the boy’s ear, provoking him to snort and burst into peals of laughter, leaning against his father’s chest.

“Daddy silly!” He giggled.

Tony chuckled, warmly, hugging his kid close as he nuzzled his hair affectionately. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah!”

He watched on fondly as Peter played with his fingers where his hand was resting on the boy’s tummy. His hand looked so big on his child’s small body and the innocent curiosity displayed by someone so young was incredibly endearing to the elder.

“You wanna get dressed, buddy?” Tony murmured into his son’s curls after a couple moments of just watching his kid observe his hands like he was seeing them for the first time. It was adorable and Stark never thought that he would describe something like that in his entire life. Stark men didn’t create adorable things; somehow Peter existed.

“I be like you now?” The boy asked, peering up at him with an excited grin on his face, adoration for his father shining in his brown eyes and Tony couldn’t help but feel blessed.

He smiled, indulgently, bending to drop a kiss to his son’s fore-head. “Anytime you want, kiddo,” he chuckled, swinging the boy into the air playfully and blowing another raspberry on his little pudgy belly as the pyjama top rose up from the sudden move and Peter squealed in delight, kicking his legs in his exhilaration.

Before he had his baby, Tony hadn’t been one for physical affection or physical contact at all for that matter. He never liked people handing him things and it was always Happy, Pepper or Rhodes who dealt with the personal one to one contact with investors and journalists. He had become so accustomed to behaving this way that upon the discovery that he had fathered a child, his first reaction was fear. He rarely opened up to anybody and the idea that he suddenly had a tiny human being to care for and raise terrified him.

The incredible thing was that Peter made it easy. He had literally fallen in love. Pepper liked to joke that her boss had become smitten with his kid ever since he first laid eyes on him and Tony didn’t even have the heart to argue. All of it belonged to Peter and he wouldn’t know it yet, but in a few years, Pepper would enter his heart too and he would finally open up fully to someone other than his son.

Until then, Peter would be the sole receiver of Tony’s physical affections. That’s what made the whole leaving predicament so much harder, because Peter relied on him for so much and only Tony knew all the little details about what his son liked and disliked, what he was afraid of, what brought him the greatest joys in life…he could go on and on. Even though it physically pained the genius to hear his child crying for him, he knew that Peter couldn’t live like this forever and they would have to get used to living their own lives as the boy grew older.

Tony carried the little one to his bedroom, heart sinking and stomach churning with dread as he placed the boy on his feet beside his bed and headed over to the wardrobe to grab the Iron Man onesie. He wasn’t ready for the next conversation he had to have with the gleeful little boy currently bouncing on the balls of his feet at the prospect of dressing up like his Daddy and blissfully believing that they were going to be spending the whole day together, but deep down the billionaire knew that it had to be done.

When he turned back around, he couldn’t help the warm smile that graced his features as his amusement caused the laugh lines around his dark eyes to crease and his lips to perk upwards, because Peter had taken the initiative to remove all of his clothes himself.

“You’re a terrific helper, buddy,” Tony chuckled, kneeling down to be at his son’s height so he could ask him to raise one leg to slip the onesie over his body, but he stopped to pull the boy’s underwear back up again. “Sorry, Pete, gotta keep yourself tucked away during the day,” he sniggered.

“Nuh uh! ‘m gonna be naked!” Peter giggled.

“Not gonna happen, pal. We want you to look your best for when Uncle Happy comes, right?” Tony said, pulling the onesie up over his kid’s shoulders and zipping it up. The comment left a bitter, sour taste in his mouth as it cemented the fact that he would be leaving his son in little more than half an hour.

“We goin’ out with Uncie Happy?” Lordy, this was going to be fun…

Tony smoothed the wrinkled fabric down and gently gripped the boy’s arms. “No, bud, you remember what I told you this morning when I woke you up? Your Uncle Happy is coming to spend some time with his favourite nephew whilst Daddy goes for his meeting,” he spoke softly and reassuringly, although it didn’t do him any favours because the moment his words left his lips, the boy’s face immediately scrunched up and his bottom lip trembled.

“No,” Peter whimpered. “Daddy stay with Peter.”

Jesus, the poor kid only now seemed to notice that the man was dressed smartly in one of his expensive suits.

Tony’s heart broke at his kid’s trembling voice and his little plea, as tears formed in his eyes. The father reached up with one hand to cup his child’s soft cheek and catch a fallen tear on his thumb as it fell.

“I’m sorry, baby, I wish I could. You know that I would stay and play with you all day if I didn’t have important work to see to,” the man explained.

“But Auntie Pep can do your work and you stay here?” Peter said, toying on his bottom lip with his pointer finger as his big doe eyes begged the man to stay with him. God, this kid was so damn smart, but he was so damn innocent still.

Despite the gloominess of the situation, Tony couldn’t help but chuckle at his kid’s optimism. “It’s not that simple, honey. Pepper isn’t the head of the company, so there are some things that she can’t do, but guess who can?”

“You,” the little boy mumbled, reaching up to rub at his nose as he sniffled.

The billionaire smiled, sadly, rubbing his hands up and down his son’s arms in what he hoped would be a comforting gesture. “Exactly, buddy, good job. If I don’t show up, then I would get a big telling off and you wouldn’t want that to happen to Daddy, right?”

“No…”

Tony couldn’t stand the completely dejected look on his kid’s usually beaming face; it felt like his insides were being ripped apart. “C’mon, Petey, lemme see that billion-dollar smile,” he coaxed, tickling the boy’s ribs and under his arm pits, two sensitive areas which never failed to get the little one giggling hysterically.

Peter only fidgeted a bit at the move, a stubborn pout protruding on his lips and he crossed his arms to effectively stop his father’s tickling and the elder had no choice but to take his hands away and raise an eyebrow at his kid’s attitude.

“If you can’t stay with me, then Daddy take Peter with!” The boy suddenly announced, tone completely deadpan and leaving no room for argument.

It was quite the statement from a four year-old child, but it amused the father because his kid sounded so much like him. He was just as stubborn and enthusiastic once he got an idea in his head and Peter clearly thought that he had just come up with a brilliant idea, judging by the satisfied glint in his eye, refusing to back down.

“I don’t know about that, buddy.” He couldn’t stop the huge smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, hands gently resting on his son’s hips as he spoke. “A lot of business people don’t like kids, they’re nasty old men who don’t care about anyone, especially little boys like you. You wouldn’t want to sit in a boring room with dudes like that, would you?”

Peter shook his head, his determination not once wavering even if the idea of scary old people scrutinising him did give the child some sense of anxiety. He didn’t care, he only wanted to be with his Daddy.

“I be with Daddy, bad guys don’ matter,” he stated. His fierce attempt at a serious expression was adorable, if not slightly worrying to the concerned father.

Tony caught his bottom lip between his teeth, eyebrows narrowing as he studied his kid for a moment in pure disbelief. He wasn’t usually left speechless by anybody and always managed to have the last word, but he was pretty much flawed. His four year-old had stunned him, but he supposed it wasn’t the first time Peter had done this, the little bugger had made him incredibly soft and Tony knew it.

He sighed through his nose, leaning forward to scoop the boy up into his arms, staring into his child’s eyes in admiration at his valiant efforts. He supported his son’s lower half with one arm as he playfully bopped his kid’s nose with the other hand, causing it to scrunch up as Peter giggled at the gesture.

“You’re incredible, Pete. Four years old and you’re already leaving your Dad lost for words, what is the world coming to, huh?” Tony spoke, jovially, shaking his head in wonder.

“Love Daddy!” Peter chirped, sweetly.

A soft look crossed the billionaire’s face, paternal love for his child glimmering in his chocolate brown eyes and he leaned forward to rub his nose against the boy’s, giving him an Eskimo kiss. Peter loved these kisses the most and he was in a fit of giggles immediately, squealing with delight at his father’s affections.

“Sir, Mr Hogan has arrived,” JARVIS suddenly announced. Perfect timing.

“Thanks, J,” Tony murmured, pressing a kiss to his son’s fore-head and making his way out of the boy’s room and down to the foyer. He braced the back of his kid’s head, allowing him to cuddle close since it was the least he could do, because he knew that he was in for one hell of a goodbye in a few moments.

Happy was just walking through the front door when father and son arrived, tucking the car keys into his pocket.

“Hey, Hap. Good drive?”

“As good as it can be. How’s the kid?” The driver asked, gaze drifting to the boy in his best friend’s arms. The sight certainly wasn’t anything new for him, especially when his boss had a business meeting.

“Sulking,” Tony smirked, bouncing his kid gently on his hip, who refused to move his face from the crook of the man’s neck.

“He been good his morning?”

“As good as he can be,” Tony retorted with a cheeky wink and a mischievous smirk. “Nah, he’s been great. He’s just a little cutie-pie, aren’t you, pal?” He spoke with a high lift in his voice, bouncing his kid and tickling across the boy’s rib cage, eliciting some high pitched squeals and bombastic laughter as Peter finally removed his face from the man’s neck.

“There he is, there’s my handsome little guy,” Tony beamed, pleased that his son was now smiling brightly. Speaking too soon… “Hey, Pete, Uncle Happy’s here, you wanna say hi?”

“Hey, buddy,” Happy greeted, walking up to the two with a kind smile.

“Hi, Uncie Happy!” Peter waved and reached over to give the driver a hug, Tony taking the opportunity to transfer the boy into the other man’s arms. Happy squeezed the child warmly and caught his friend’s eye, who smiled sadly and reached over to gently stroke his son’s hair.

Tony leaned in to press a quick kiss to the top of his kid’s head, murmuring in his ear, “See you soon, kiddo. Love you.”

He should have just left as soon as he placed Peter in Happy’s arms, because what followed was definitely all on him. He hated leaving his kid just as much as Peter detested it and it probably would have been better if he had just snuck out, so he didn’t have to put them both through the heavy emotions that came with their separation.

The moment the low goodbye left his lips, Peter suddenly burst into tears. His chest heaved dangerously with his heavy sobs and hitching breaths, both arms reaching out for Tony desperately.

“N-no, D-Dada, don’t go!” Peter howled, cries only increasing as he made grabby hands at his Daddy, whose pained expression caused Happy to make the quick decision to transfer the hysterical child back into his father’s arms. His wailing still persisted even when he was as close as he could be to the man.

“Sh, sh, shh, come on, baby, it’s alright. Shhh, it’s okay, I’m right here, Daddy’s here, sweetheart, shh…” Tony hushed, quietly, subconsciously rocking his son and nuzzling his fluffy curls, affectionately, placing delicate kisses across flushed cheeks and temples. The poor kid was bawling, his face bathed in tears and his grip on his father’s suit jacket exceedingly tight for one so small.

Happy watched on worriedly, eyebrows raised in concern at the boy’s complete meltdown. Tony usually managed to leave before things got this ugly, as Happy, Pepper or Rhodes were able to distract the kid with his Legos or some kind of game, so he wouldn’t bring out the waterworks like this. It wasn’t often that Tony got dragged away to these damn business meetings, so he supposed that it was just too much for the kid this time, as it had been a while since the man had been called away and it explained the extreme outburst from Peter.

The kid eventually managed to calm himself, but it took several minutes of Tony cradling him, rocking him and murmuring sweet nothings into the boy’s hair for Peter’s heart-wrenching sobs to reduce in their volume. He was still crying softly into his Daddy’s shoulder, begging for him to stay.

“Alright, screw this,” Tony spoke after a few more minutes, voice hoarse and rough as he stroked the back of his son’s head whilst continuing to bounce him with his other hand. “I’m taking him with and you’re driving.”

“Wait, you’re what?!” Happy exclaimed.

“There’s no fu-freaking way I’m leaving him here. C’mon, buddy, let’s get your toy,” Tony said, leaving no room for argument, as he hefted the boy higher on his hip and headed back towards Peter’s bedroom. Happy was left standing in the hallway, completely flabbergasted.

The billionaire didn’t relinquish his hold on his son as he allowed the boy to reach for his Iron Man figure, but before he could dash back to Happy, Peter’s squeals of protest stopped him.

“What is it, Pete? We’re gonna be late.”

“Want my crayons, Daddy!”

Tony sighed, grabbing the colourful box that was sat on Peter’s dresser and a little notebook, stuffing them in the inside pocket of his suit jacket, before making his way back to the foyer. He didn’t care that he shouldn’t be giving in to his kid’s desires like this; he couldn’t stand listening to those horrible cries and begging anymore, and he figured it would just be easier for everybody if he brought Peter with. He could worry about what the board members would think later.

“Right, let’s go,” Tony ordered, slightly breathless from all the running around, but he was pleased when the driver simply shrugged and followed him to the car. He could always count on Happy to just trust his judgement and go along with whatever he came up with, even if it was ridiculous.

Tony climbed into the back seat, sitting Peter in his lap and pulling the seatbelt over the both of them. He was exhausted, emotionally and physically and he didn’t have the heart to force the kid into his own seat, not after the huge meltdown he had just witnessed. Happy immediately pressed the button to slide the privacy screen up the moment father and son got themselves settled.

Peter appeared pretty content with their seating arrangements, sitting sideways on his father’s lap with his legs stretched out across the next seat and a small smile on his face as he nuzzled it into the man’s sturdy chest. Tony was aware that it wasn’t the safest position for the boy to be in, but he trusted Happy to get them safely to this damn meeting and there was no way the genius was letting his kid leave his arms now after their eventful morning. He felt like he was going to get whiplash soon with all this hot and cold, but he supposed this was what it was like having a little human that took after him.

Tony was drawn out of his thoughts when he felt Peter rummaging inside his suit jacket, fishing out two crayons, one bright red and the other yellow. His other hand was still accommodated with clutching onto his Iron Man figure, which he held close to his chest as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

“What’re you up to, buddy?” Tony asked, fondly, gaze soft as he watched the boy.

“Dwawing,” Peter said and before the man had a chance to decipher what on earth his son was saying, his kid reached up and drew a big red line down his father’s cheek.

Tony should have pulled away, any normal person would if they were expected to look their best at an important business meeting in less than ten minutes. No. The only movement he made was to smile, affectionately, allowing Peter to colour all over his face. God knows what he was mapping out, but Tony simply gave him the freedom to do it.

“We match now, Daddy,” Peter giggled after a few more minutes, giving a little bounce of excitement in his father’s lap as he beamed proudly.

Tony raised an eyebrow at this and took his phone out of his pocket to get the camera up and observe his reflection. Peter had attempted to draw a replica of the Iron Man mask with about as much accuracy and detail a four year-old could muster. It was pretty hilarious considering the fact that if Peter really wanted him to take on his alter ego image, he could have just pressed a button on his StarkWatch and the armour would be there in less than five seconds.

The genius scoffed at his very narcissistic image, but there was no possibility that he was going to spoil his kid’s enjoyment, so he simply cuddled him close and kissed his little nose. “Good boy, you did a great job,” he murmured, resting his fore-head against his son’s and smiling when Peter hummed happily at the praise.

Despite Happy’s excellent driving, they still turned up at the offices about fifteen minutes late into the two hour meeting and Tony gave a little sigh as they pulled up around the back. He secured his hold on his son and climbed out the car, giving his friend an appreciative pat on the shoulder, before dashing into the reception area.

The female receptionist gave him a strange, yet slightly bemused look, but he wasn’t surprised considering the current state of the normally well presented Tony Stark and his young son who was usually kept out of the public eye. A small smile quirked at the corner of her lips as her gaze trailed over the drawing on his face, but she politely chose not to comment on it and sign them in.

Tony took the lift to the top floor, tapping his foot impatiently as he watched the number dial slowly increase.

“Daddy?”

“Hm?”

“Will you still be in twouble?” Peter asked, blinking up at him with wide curious, innocent eyes. “Late?”

“Naahh, I’ve got my armour on. Nothing can get through that, you’re keeping me safe, kiddo,” Tony chuckled, brushing some hair back from his son’s fore-head, who grinned at the comment.

As soon as the doors binged open, the billionaire was off like a shot towards the correct room, not even pausing to knock and instead opting to head straight in. The door banged against the wall as it was slammed open and every head in the room whipped towards the source of the sudden loud noise, many jumping upright in their seats.

“Sorry I’m late. Peter was a nightmare this morning,” Tony said, walking over to the nearest free seat, which happened to be right next to Rhodes.

Everyone was too stunned to speak at the baffling sight of their boss with crayon all over his face and his child dressed in what appeared to be Iron Man pyjamas, clutching an Iron Man figure in his hand as he played with it quietly and ignored the onlookers.

Tony collapsed in the chair, sitting Peter on the table so that he was facing him, and he could give his arms a rest. He didn’t even need to look in his best friend’s direction to know that he was currently on the receiving end of one hell of a perplexed stare.

“Don’t even ask,” was all the exhausted genius could muster, only glancing at him in the corner of his eye.

“Tony…” Pepper, who was standing at the front and had been leading the presentation, sighed vehemently, bracing the side of her face with her hand in despair.

It would be many years later when those closest to Peter would look back on that bizarre turn of events fondly and they would always view the day that Tony Stark decided to take his clingy son to a business meeting as one of the best examples of the billionaire being a great parent. Tony liked to secretly agree.

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Every Time A Bell Rings

Pairing: Gobblepot

Rating: short and very tame

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine except for the terrible prose. Not beta read so there might be grammar errors galore, I’m just an English major.

Beware: this is utter Christmas crack, set during Oswald’s time as mayor or at least his campaign. Their voices and address are OOC just to make it more fun and a bit romantic, too. Also, it got a bit away from me in the second half I think ? Also, awful title.

A/N: I wrote this already in one frantic go at the start of December, wanted to re-work it, didn’t have time, ran late to post it for Christmas, got fed up with it, and decided to just throw it out there. Happy Hanukkah, merry Christmas, have a good Kwanzaa celebration, happy holidays to you all, folks !

This fills the bingo field for Lost Angel Wings. I had so many ideas for fields...

People were rushing to and fro to his left and right. So much for a peaceful season full of contemplation and slowing down for the holidays. Still, it was merely a Christmas skit for Gotham’s big Christmas fundraiser. Why he had to be here to keep an eye on proceedings, Jim had no idea. Logically he knew that he was here because he lost a game of Rock Paper Scissors against Harvey but why police presence was needed at all during a charity event eluded him. As if the criminals of Gotham were only waiting to crash a fundraiser instead of breaking and entering the vacant houses of the rich people present at the town hall. Terrorist attacks during the elementary school choir’s performance. Of course it also couldn’t be any officer in plain clothes but it had to be a detective. The police making an appearance during social events to win favours or something.

Now that he was already here he could at least look around and snatch some of the backstage snacks laid out for the actors and other participants who came from costume and makeup completely famished. They were simple but more to Jim’s taste than the ridiculous hors d’oeuvre usually served at such events. Slowly the backstage area emptied as the next group went on stage. He sneakily inched towards the snack table. Somewhere behind a partition someone was rummaging around.

“Has someone per chance seen my wings?”

“What?” Jim turned around to find an annoyed Cobblepot coming around the partition. Apparently criminals had found their way into this fundraiser event after all.

The man stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Jim standing there with a sandwich halfway to his mouth. He did not exactly look dressed for villainous success. Frankly, he looked downright ridiculous. Cobblepot was draped in what looked like a black sheet with purple ornaments held tight at the waist with some kind of cummerbund and a vest on top. Apparently he was aware of his less than sleek get up as well if the way he tried to cover as much as possible of his outfit by crossing his arms over his chest was any indication.

“Hello Detective Gordon.”

“Uh, did you say something back before?” Jim asked. He could not stop staring at the outfit disaster.

Cobblepot’s expression switched from embarrassed to judging due to Jim’s lack of a civil reply.

“There is no need to stare, Detective. I assure you this is the better option. Originally they wanted to dress me in a white gown,” he simply answered. “I was convinced that it would make a good impression on people if I took a small role in one of the plays last minute. And I need all the support I can get.”

Jim nodded: “Of course. And…especially the purple fur trimming is a nice touch.” (Cobblepot rolled his eyes) “Seems like you and me are here for the same reasons. I was sent to represent the GCPD.”

Had he said wings? God, whoever cast Cobblepot as an angel must have lost his mind. At least he was small, polite to some degree, had a charming if slightly maniac smile, and could enact some serious wrath Jim supposed.

At his words the other man looked relieved. In Cobblepot’s mind they were probably in the same boat now. They were often in the same boat to be honest, what with their little deal and regular cooperation. And if Jim wanted to be even more honest, Christmas being the time of contemplation and all, his partner in crime often tried too hard to be inviting but was ultimately engaging and pleasant company with a ready smile for him. That he was always dressed to the nines (if insanely flamboyant) and graceful did not hurt their meetups in the least either.

“Then, Jim, if you’re here on business you could look for my wings. I’m not sure that my appearance as a heavenly herald” (at this he raised his eyebrows) “without a pair of wings has the same flair. I’ll look over there and you could check here?”

Jim. The Christmas spirit must have struck Cobblepot as well it seemed. Jim just nodded and turned around to look in the area behind the food and drinks table. A lot of props were scattered around. And there, on a stool, lay a pair of wings. They were the kind you would wear like a backpack and would find in a cheap costume store with wide white rubber bands. Someone had gone to great pains to spray paint the top of the wings with silver glitter as well. While he was not the kind of guy who ever wondered or even realized whether some piece of clothing would clash with another he would need to be blind not to see that the wings will look terrible on the flashy black and purple robe. The white gown may have been an insult on Cobblepot but he wondered who had come up with the alternate design which also didn’t seem to go terribly well with, well, anything.

Jim steered his steps back to the middle of the room.

“I have found them,” he called out.

Cobblepot returned with a “Good” and took the wings from him. He then struggled rather unsuccessfully with them.

“Let me,” Jim said and took them back, holding the bands like one would hold a coat for someone to slip their arms into the sleeves.

Cobblepot hesitated for a moment before he put one arm through one loop and then the other. Jim adjusted the wings. He had been right, the whole ensemble looked awful but at least someone had bothered to fit the wing’s straps to his narrow shoulders so they wouldn’t constantly slip down. The man turned around to face him and for a moment Jim’s breath caught.

Oswald was slightly odd-looking and plenty beautiful just like his mother had been with her large startled eyes. He was aware that he was staring and busied himself by also adjusting the straps in the front. The silence became pronounced so Jim decided to just cut his losses. “Done. You’re good to go, Oswald,” was the only thing he could come up with though.

Oswald’s eyes snapped up and God, Jim still had his hands resting on his labels. At least he wasn’t awkwardly gripping his shoulders or pressing them against his chest but still. Any moment Jim will remove his hands, stick them in his pockets and take one or three steps back. Any moment. The moment just…hadn’t come yet. And now Oswald started to smile in his nervous, unsure way covered up by bravado that he seemed so often to sport in Jim’s company when they did not talk shop. He was lovely, questionable nightmare-coloured toga, cheap wings and all, and Jim had to lean in. This was ridiculous, he was ridiculous. Still, he leaned in further.

Really, it was just common sense that they would hear steps any second and draw apart. Except that no one was stumbling in to conveniently break them up or get an eyeful to report to the newspaper. All these romantic descriptions of breath mingling were a disappointment, too, as Oswald apparently had stopped breathing altogether. He just stared at him which was kind of unsettling so Jim closed his own eyes, hoping he would catch the hint. Oswald’s hands came up to settle on his shoulder blades and he took this as a sign to lean down just this bit further. When his lower lip touched Oswald’s lips lightly he stopped short, savouring the pinpoint contact in a very public backstage area of a corny Christmas fundraiser event. Captain Barnes was there, Bruce was there, Selina had probably sneaked in in a dazzling dress. Whatever. This had gotten too important too long ago. Just when he wanted to move his lips and end this anticipation in the air the long expected steps came towards the back room. Jim reared back with his lips burning from the barely there touch. Moments ago he would have been happy to have a stranger dissuade the weird atmosphere but now he was dissatisfied in the most literal sense.

It was frustrating to see how fast Oswald was able to collect himself and move in the direction of the stage. He turned his head around to address Jim.

“I’ll see you later on stage.”

“I’ll see you later for a drink,” Jim replied. Oswald’s ears burned a delightful shade when he hurried towards the crowd.

It begins (Chapter 1)

The sun was not burning hot so much as painfully reminding him how important it was. High in the southern sky the heat pushed the humidity around enough to make the small shaded porch feel more like a sauna that a place for reprieve. However, now a good 3 feet down and still digging into the grave or one Mr. Lewis Rothburg, it left him wondering if the shade would prove more comfortable than it had once provided.

Stopping a moment to wipe his brow he looked around the long abandoned cemetery. Each stone edifice, once a proud reminder of capable men and women who in their lives had done great things...and horrible things, now standing derelict deep in the woods surrounded by an ever encroaching nature. A slight smirk crossed his lips, "The seem lucky." he thought to himself aloud. "They have no issue with what horrors are coming...they really needn't worry." He laughed as his shovel struck something hard and the sound of hollow wood thunked through the air. "Shit." He muttered.

There were two distinct things that immediately ran through his mind. Either the cemetery back in the day was notably unconcerned with health and safety, thusly the coffins were buried much shallower than they should be or, more worryingly, the man who sold the information about the location of Mr. Rothburg also warned that the graveyard had been used by criminals for hiding all sorts of things. Typically speaking the actions of the criminal world seldom would have bothered him but the fear that Mr. Rothburg was no longer where he was supposed to be greatly shifted the situation from simple to complicated.

With little to no options left for him he began to dig and free whatever thing he had just struck with his shovel. The sun glaring at the actions below as with some considered effort the lid of a coffin was uncovered. The sound of cicadas filling the air he took a deep breath and jammed a crowbar around the edge of the lid. With a groan and firmly planted feet the casket lurched open. "Well fuck." He let the words lose themselves in the summer heat as he looked down in disbelief.

The tires of the old truck did not grip well on what could best be called a trail, perhaps a path, either way he didn't care. With a foot down hard the engine putted and pushed all it had as the vehicle flew through the thick of the woods back towards a motel on the outskirts of town. Skidding onto the actual road the cargo stowed in the back of the truck slid and banged hard against the side causing the skid of the tires to feel far more dramatic than how sharp a turn he actually made. Despite the weight the very coffin sized and shaped container, it didn't break.

With a grinding of gears and feet hard down on the brake the vehicle came to a stop in most of one parking space outside the Quiet Glenn motel. He slammed the door not so much from panic as much as the sweat that had covered him had caused it to slip quickly from his grasp. The setting sun still fighting the cold of the darkness that was now trying to cool the area. He threw the motel door open and as abruptly as it had made such a calamitous entry the cheap door was resting back in its sill with him sliding the lock into place. His heart was racing but he wasn't tired, turning around and smudging cemetery dirt across his shirt he looked up at a surprised woman sitting at the small table near the back of the room. Normally her thick raven curls of hair would have been accenting each side of her face but instead were now tightly pinned up, slightly damp with a glob of something smeared across a part of the her hair. She chuckled while setting down a slice of pizza back into the box on the table. "So it went well?" The question was sincere but purposely teasing in tone.

"Well!?" He exclaimed walking towards the table. "No I think we can categorically label it as poorly." His voice laid out a frustration that was punctuated with his glare at the tv which was currently displaying some sort of reality show, before flopping over onto the bed. "How well do you know Virgil?" His words muffled by the pillow he spoke into.

“Most of my life.” She cocked her head to the side and grasped the pizza box before standing and asking, “Did he give us bad info?”

“No, if anything the info was very correct.”

“So what’s wrong?”

“Several things, most of all, how well do you trust Virgil?” He pulled his face from the bed and sat up on the end of the stiff excuse for bedding provided by the motel. “Also, what the hell is in your hair?”

“I didn't have anything else to do so I’m bleaching some bit of my hair. It looked fun. Anyways, I know him pretty well, he’s known me and my family for a long time.” Her eyes grew concerned as she looked down at him sitting on the edge of the bed. “What happened?”

Drawing in a long breath he looked up at her and the box of pizza and reached out to take a slice. “We’ll at the very least I suppose we can feel satisfied that Mr. Rothburg was where Virgil said he would be.” Pausing to take a bite of the room temperature slice while again finding reason to glare at the TV. “Sadly he also mentioned that such a place tends to attract the more unsavory of folk.”

A smile crossed her lips as she plopped down heavily beside him. “Aren’t we the unsavory types? Somewhat doom and gloom, all manors of suspicious actions, illegal activity and occult hoobie dooby?”

“Not that sort of unsavory, more of the ‘we kill to accomplish our goals’ sorts of unsavory.” He said with a grimace while now looking at the slice of room temperature pizza in his hand. “We have never sought to injure, Mel.” he added with an impressively serious tone.

Placing the box on the bed just behind them both Mel asked, “So are you going to explain what has you in a such a mood or do I have to keep playing 20 questions?”

“I wish it we simple but it feels like it's worse.” he muttered

“Let's start simple.” She hated it when he acted like this, always a man with a plan and if things shift up, big ol grump for a hot minute. “Was Rothburg there?”

“Yeah, I'm pretty sure it's him.”

“Good. So first problem?”

“The coffin was roughly three feet down.”

“Only three feet?”

“Yup, first issue.” He stated after taking a bite of the pizza. “Do we have beer?” he added.

“Sure do, but so what if he was buried in a shallow grave. It wasn't like the townsfolk were gonna respect him"

“True. However, there is more to this mood than just interesting burial habits.” He stood and walked over to the small whirring mini fridge and plucked a beer out. “I don't think this is the first time Mr. Rothburg has been dug up.”

“What, why would anyone other than us want to dig him up!?” She was beginning to understand his mood. “What possible reason would they dig him up and then put him back!?”

“Like I said.” he began walking towards the door gesturing for her to follow. “How well do you trust Virgil?”

She got up and followed, both stepped outside into the hot twilight. The sun still determined to broil the area before being slowly beaten back by the encroaching night sky. They walked over to the back of the truck and swung open the tailgate door. He hopped into the back and grabbed an edge of the coffin lid and looked up at her, “Come here I don't want anyone to see.”

She stepped in beside the door and looked down at the coffin lid  his fingers were gripping. “Well enough build up, lets see it!”

With a sudden jerk and a loud crackling of metal hinges set in wood the lid lifted open. Light from the now buzzing parking lot fluorescents poorly lit what was laying in the coffin. First and foremost was the body of Mr. Lewis Rothburg, clearly it was his twisted form as the shin bones had been separated from his legs and placed under his chin. Though a considerable amount of decay had occurred it was also still plain to see that the jaw of Mr. Rothburg had been wired shut with crude metal studs and copper wire, ensuring even in death that he would no longer speak damnable words.

No, the condition of Mr. Rothburg was not the reason for shock or even a turned stomach full of pizza delivery, the reason that both of them looking into the coffin had slack jaws and bewilderment across their faces was because nestled around Rothburg’s remains were countless stacks of cash, gold, intricate medallions with arcane symbols and some weapons of peculiar design.

“What the hell is all of that!?” she exclaimed before realizing there were too few tenants in this particular southern motel outskirts of town to justify shouting without drawing attention. In a more collected tone while he began to shut the coffin. “Why is Rothburg swimming in cash?”

“I'm sorry, but did anything about my entry and line of questions sound like I have more ideas than you do now.” Hopping out the truck he closed and locked the doors, he suddenly felt very watched and disliked the notion. “Let’s get back inside and figure out our next move.” A cool breeze of night air brushed passed them both, typically a wonderful feeling now oddly ominous. They both went back inside the motel room before turning to locked the door behind them he added, “And wash your goddamn hair.”

MIRIYA - SISTERS "When was the last time all three of us got together like this?" Miriya asked, slipping into the seat at the table. Truth be told, she didn't so much 'slip in' as 'hop up', since the seats were all human-sized. Extremely resilient seats too; though scaled for humans, each one had to be able to support a full grown Norn or Charr without breaking. Someone out there must be making a killing on specialized chairs she thought idly as she plopped into the seat and flashed a grin at the other person at the table. "Fairly long time, I think." Her sister Sonnya replied, sipping her lager. She looked every part the responsible older sister; the uncomplicated and efficient hair style, the simple tunic she wore in place of her heavy Guardian armor, the fact she wore very little in the way of makeup. Were she to stand by her sister, Sonnya would 'tower' over her by a full three inches, making her the big sister in more than just title. Far too often in their collective pasts, she'd been forced to regulate arguments and fights between her younger siblings. "Last time I saw you directly was during the war with Mordremoth, when we were all playing at Jungle Fighter." Miriya nodded while indicating to the waiter her drink order. She too, had forgone the usual combat gear for something simple; a strangely bright sundress quite at odds with her profession. Sonnya thought to ask her about it but declined after a moment's thought. "I nearly forgot about that. Between dodging poison vines and defending Tarir, my krewe and I were fairly occupied." She glanced at the empty spot at the table and raised an eyebrow. "So...is she going to be here?"

Sonnya nodded, grimacing slightly. "She said she'd be here. Probably got waylaid. While she's out though, we...need to talk." Immediately all of Miriya's alarms went off. Her ears snapped up, curling away from her face and twitching with concern and worry. Oh no...don't tell me she's heard about Kaleb. Please don't let this be the Talk about Interspecies Relations... "Uh.. talk about what?" "Tenna." The sourness in the older sister's tone caught her by surprise. "I suppose you haven't heard the rumors floating out of Rata Sum?" Well, there IS that pile of notices and orders sitting back on my desk in the Chantry of Secrets... Swear I'll get to that some day. Miriya took a sip from the drink that had arrived, using the edge of the stein to hide her pursed lips.  "What kinds of rumors are we talking? Did she... get involved with the Inquest or something?" Sonnya shook her head slowly. "No...not that bad. And yet, it's worse. Since the war with the Jungle Dragon, I've been getting observer reports coming in from Vigil weaponeers. About an Asura with the Danae name who's apparently gone off the bend." The necromancer sister couldn't help but laugh. "Well, I know Tenna's a bit of a firebrand and a wild thinker, but I wouldn't call her insane..." Her sister, the Guardian, just traced a fingertip around the rim of her mug. "...She hasn't slowed down, hasn't stopped, hasn't slept in who knows how long. Peacemaker security reports tell me she hasn't even returned to her dorms since the war began, and now that it's over she still hasn't come back." Miriya's laughter and smile slowly faded. "That's...ungood. I'm all for studying till it hurts, but even I sleep when I need to." Lately I've been preferring to, since I've got a nice warm human to snuggle up to--STOP IT! She cut her own thought off before it resulted in a blush that her very observant sister would have noticed. "Say...when did you start keeping tabs on her? You're not Whispers, so the spying game seems kinda weird." Her sister chuckled hollowly. "I have two sisters I think the world of. I also have two sisters who, given the right time and place, might accidentally do something to end that world. One of them is a necromancer of some repute who apparently delved so deep into the Entropic Cog of the Alchemy that some say she's already died and come back." The subsequent 'meep' from her dreadlock-headed sibling made her quirk a smile. "The other is an engineer with an absolute fascination with energy manipulation and explosives development, who's already tabled half a dozen designs for new explosion-based weapons so exotic that all five nations have unilaterally put them under lock and seal. Even the Council of Elders in Rata Sum wanted nothing to do with them." Miriya's jaw dropped. It took something massive to get the Council to lock it down; most of the time they'd steal the idea and claim it as their own, adding tweaks and modifications to seem like they'd improved it. For them to blacklist something meant it was so dangerous they couldn't risk it getting out. "You're serious? By the Cogs... Huh, I wonder if the notice for those is in my pile of mail.." "What?" "Nothing.  Just making a mental note..." "Yeah. Sure." Sonnya sipped her beer, knowing full-well that the Order of Whispers spy agency would have had detailed notes on all of that. If the Vigil could get a hold of details like that, it was progeny's play for the Whispers. Chances were pretty good that the information the Vigil got was FROM the Whispers! "Well, when she gets here we can talk to her about it." "Talk to me about what?" A perky voice chimed in, before a charcoal-skinned Asura popped up beside them, surprising them both. She hopped into her own seat, brushing one of her ponytails out her eyes before smiling at her sisters. "Sorry I'm late. I got...distracted." Tenna giggled as if she had told a joke, giving both sisters a chance to see how bedraggled she really was. Her normally straight hair, the color of bordeaux and tied into a pair of pony tails framing her face, with a third one on the back of her head holding her long hair off her body, seemed a bit...askew. The ponytail bindings weren't as tight, so hair had gotten loose and springing away from her typically immaculate hairstyle. Both of them could see soot in her hair and in places on her face, like her jawline or at the edge of her hairline. Overall, she looked messy, and perhaps just a little unhinged? They couldn't see her mouth, since she had her hand up to cover her face slightly, resting her elbow on the table to do so. But..something else seemed off. Her eyes... Miriya tried not to gasp in horror. They look so... Words failed her. Tenna's eyes, normally a bright golden orange, were both fairly sunken in her face, surrounded by tired, dark, I-haven't-slept-in-ages bags. The color was also muted; where her eyes used to shine like a solar reactor, the Asura looking back at Miriya had glassy, empty eyes that twitched from one sister to the other almost nervously. There was still the same wild humor, the twinkle of the practical joker she was in those eyes, but by their very sunkenness, the tone of that humor was changed. "Tenna..." Miriya began awkwardly, giving her younger sister a strained smile. The Danae sisters, though physically similar in some respects, had enough differences that it made them hard to believe they were blood sisters. "It's so good to see you. I trust you've been keeping out of trouble?" Of the three sisters, Sonnya was the oldest and the tallest. All three sisters shared the same facial markings, that of a trio of diamonds across their foreheads, but Sonnya's skin tone was almost a human-pink, rather than the shades of grey most Asura sported. Her hair was a plain orange-red, her eyes a strong, deep blue. Being the oldest sister, she'd grown up the responsible one, keeping her bickering siblings under control. As an adult she'd joined the Vigil rather than any of the Colleges, her disdain for study manifest. That didn't stop her from improving designs that came her way, but she was no wild inventor, and the Vigil needed steadfast soldiers, not starry-eyed dreamers. Miriya on the on other hand, was the middle sibling and out of the group, surprisingly the shortest. Where her older sister favored a more broad, tall frame, toned by battle and hard training, she herself was slim and small, a waif by Asuran standards. It ground her gears that she was the smallest of the trio, no matter that she was older than Tenna; some fluke of genetics had given her the petite frame she was born with. Sharp emerald eyes gazed out upon the world. Where her older sister favored a simple, asymmetric hairstyle, she had hers pulled and shaped into short, fingerlength dreadlocks, held back by her utilitarian headband. Her skin was remarkably pale for an asura, which she prided since she clearly felt it suited her profession as a Necromancer (extraordinaire, if you believed her). The black sheep of the group was Tenna. Last of the Danae, she had her older sister's height, but the middle sister's build. Tall and lanky, she had grown up being known as a gangly progeny and prone to accidents. Another genetic quirk had set off recessive genes in Tenna; instead of being pale or pink like her older siblings, Tenna was had a darker, almost sooty aspect to her skin. Her markings were inverted color, compared to the others; where they had dark marks on pale skin, hers were pale marks on dark skin. Were it not for her sleep-deprived bags under her eyes, she would have had bright, gold-orange eyes. There was a joke that persisted for years that Tenna had been able to see in the dark thanks to her unrealistically bright, shiny eyes. Tenna smiled behind her hand and signalled the waiter for something. Whatever the hand gesture was, the waiter flinched and then frowned, before nodding and departing to get it. The engineer waited till the drink was placed before her before answering her sister. "As much as able, not as much as I could." She replied vaguely, uncorking the glass bottle and pouring a fair bit of deep red liquid into her glass. It wasn't thick liquor; the ice in the glass barely stained with the ruby red of the liquid. "Been on the road lately, exploring, getting research materials..." "And developing a taste for Charr-style Blood whiskey, I see. " Sonnya pointed out disapprovingly, sipping her own beer. "You DO know what makes it 'blood' whiskey, right?" Tenna merely giggled, and took a sip. Still, she had her hand over her mouth, though she gave her lips a bit of a rub against her fingers. "It's a very interesting recipe. I've gotten quite accustomed to it." Her necromancer sister just watched her, before shrugging and drinking some of her own. She preferred wine, personally. In fact, she'd been drinking a bit more of it since... She cut the thought off before the blush started again. Damn, I really gotta control myself. At this rate it won't be secret anymore, will it? "Sis tells me you've been working on some new weapons or something? Explosives and such?" Miriya ventured, trying to divert the conversation to safer ground for them all. "Anything you can tell us? Or are you under one of those Council seals?" Tenna finally let her hand drop from her mouth, apparently satisfied with whatever she'd done until that moment. She took a long, bracing sip of the whiskey, wincing at its sharpness, before answering. "Nah. The actual diagrams and technology IS under seal, but I can still tell you about it. Not like you're gonna be able to build it from a bare description anyway." Both sisters looked at each other, and then at Tenna, blinking. They both expected to be told 'Classified' and then the conversation to move along. They leaned forward, almost conspiratorily. "So?..." Tenna shrugged, still grinning toothily. "Been working on a few projects. Small-scale application, Pact-fleet application, and a few private projects just for my entertainment, of course." She looked down at her drink. "Made a new grenade type, for starters. High density explosive based off Tonn's ship-cracker, melded with a fragmentation core, and laced with specially designed high-temp resistant spikes. Not using much of the explosive, but it's so powerful a few milligrams are equal to a standard grenade payload." "That's... wait. If you made it a frag grenade, then why add those 'high temp resistant spikes' or whatever?" Miriya puzzled, frowning. "Seems kinda redundant." Sonnya nodded. "Indeed. Wouldn't the frag core be sufficient to cause damage?" The dark-haired engineer nodded, trying to keep from giggling again. "Oh it would...but the spikes are for increased damage, burn damage, and morale-breaking. After the grenade goes off, in addition to the regular shrapnel, those spikes are thrown out. They're razor sharp, intensely heated by the blast but not deformed by it, and best of all, they richochet off hard surfaces." Her eyes flicked up and over to each of them, judging their reactions. She couldn't help but giggle as they made the connection. "All that razor-sharp spike storm, in a confined space, bouncing around like the goo-ball from an elixir gun... The pa-ting-ting-TANG of bouncing metal, all searching for something...meaty...to bury itself in. Burning hot to boot, so it practically cooks the flesh when it skewers it..." "By the Eternal Alchemy..." Miriya breathed. She'd seen Dhangalor's grenades in action before, shredding Orrian monstrosities and Mordrem plant abominations. Her own sister's devices made those pale. "That's just...heinous. I can definitely see the morale-shattering effect of it." Sonnya nodded mutely. She'd heard of the design, as it had crossed her desk before. Tonn's recipe was a state secret, but the Charr had been salivating at getting their hands on it. It was sealed by the council, but in time, those grenades might make it to the hands of those who could use them. "Heh... Also work great in a pinch for meal time." Tenna went on, almost distractedly. "Just toss into a room with a food animal and when the explosions are over, you got some nice cooked meat, pre-skewered for ease of eating." "Okay, that's just gross." Her older sister frowned, crossing her arms. "Especially if the creature wasn't killed in the blast. Then you gotta deal with it afterward." Tenna just shrugged mildly, as if it didn't bother her at all. "Secondary designs are for artillery shells, bombs, grenade launchers, that kind of thing. Simple fair." She continued. "Another project that got kiboshed by the Council was for an orbital energy weapon delivery platform. I don't think they liked the idea of someone putting nigh-untouchable magitek weapons in geosynch orbit." Sonnya eyed her sister suspiciously. "Where did you come up with THAT idea, pray tell?" Her engineer sister shrugged. "Files from the Scarlet Briar archives. Studies of the wreckage of the Breachmaker in all three forms it had." She smiled brightly. "That sylvari was in a class all her own. She was really onto something with ethertech, and that big slag-off ethercannon she tested in the Shiverpeaks. Got an idea what she'd intended it for, but that's MY secret." "In any case, while I was studying it, I was also trying to see...how shall I put this? I wanted to see how high a sentient-made device could go." Tenna giggled, licking her lips. "I used Tonn's explosive formula, of course, but with my own mixes. Made a nice long-burning, fuel source. Impractical for anything other than in engines or rockets. Which is what I did. I launched rockets with varying degrees of fuel, studded with sensors and golemites, and just...aimed at the sky." "Well, that still sounds more acceptable than the grenade." Miriya pointed out, nodding. Experimentation was all part of Dynamics. While her sister was a Synergetics College alumni, Miriya herself was Dynamics. The two fields often overlapped; the crazed experiments for-the-sake-of-experimenting Dynamics got passed over or incorporated into Synergetic scientists projects aimed at integrating new and exotic things into the fabric of society and knowledge. They took all experiments, failure or not, and added them to the warp and weave of the Asuran knowledge pool, often figuring out solutions the original scientists didn't see. "And what can you tell us of the upper atmosphere then?" "That the breathable part ends at about one hundred kilometers above sea level, for starters." Tenna looked at both sisters, and their gawping faces. "Oh yeah, that's right... neither of you knew. Did you think the atmosphere just kept going out and out, until it reached the stars?" Sonnya frowned, before nodding. "Well, just doing the math in my head for gas density versus gravity, that would make sense. If the atmosphere just kept going, gravity would cause it to naturally condense more and more on the surface, until it was unbearable, unlivable. Possibly even dangerous. We're talking tons per square inch here." Her dark haired sister nodded. "Yep. I mean, there's still SOME atmo up there; it doesn't just end like a forcefield. But it does trail off rather abruptly. Everything beyond that, from what I can tell from recovered probes, says there's only trace gases. The golemites that survived reentry...the ones that still could think, anyway, reported being unable to move around the rocket pod due to a lack of gravity. Around the fifth trial rocket I had to put magnets on the feet and hands, and bind the free-floating limbs with wire just so they wouldn't fall apart up there! I almost reverted back to using a design like those stupid old Novan golems, where all the bits are attached by machine." She stuck her tongue out, making a lemon-eating face. Archaic technology... "So what did you learn?" Sonnya asked, nibbling a corn chip from the appetizer that had appeared on the table. She hadn't asked for it, and was pretty sure no one had ordered it, but there it was anyway. Tenna smirked, removing a vial from her pocket and emptying its contents into her whiskey, before she stirred it with one long nailed finger. "That the council hates the idea of orbitally-launched, geosynchronous weapons systems. At least, ones that weren't under their control. Didn't stop the Inquest though. Those shit-eaters tried three times to either sink or commandeer my satellite with ones of their own based off what they could see of my design." She sighed, shaking her head. "The original rocket probes weren't meant to do much but measure stuff. But then I sent up my prototype beam cannon satellite, and I guess they got word of it. A shame for them that those golemites I sent up in the actual satellite were the most heavily armed ones I could get. And it's not like the satellite is undefended itself." Miriya quirked an eyebrow, noting the vial but saying nothing. "You mean you went paranoid and turned it into more than a study satellite didn't you." "Got it in one!" Tenna pointed at her sister, grinning, before taking a slug of her drink, wincing at the burn. " In addition to the sensor packages and the golemites in it, which are specially modified with weapons I made, the satellite package itself is studded with direct-fire energy weapons, retractable turrets, and then there's also the mega particle cannon I installed on it. Kinda the point of it really." Sonnya was stunned. "What could possibly be the point of THAT?! To burn a section of the planet to ash?" Tenna nodded brightly, her loose ponytail bobbing. "Exactly! I envisioned a network of them in orbit, placed all over the planet! Imagine being able to cut off dragon minions from their attack routes, carve the landscape into what you need, or better yet, just BURN the bastards out?" "By the Alchemy, that's just nuts." Miriya shook her head. "I mean, the Dragons are a threat, but you've heard the reports coming out of Rata Novus, and the instabilities everywhere; killing them isn't an option anymore. Maybe it never was, but we couldn't stop Zhaitan without completely annihilating him, and that bitch Scarlet left us no choice when she woke Mordremoth early. If we'd had time to build up our militaries and train them for jungle assaults, we could have approached him while he slept and fire-bombed everything." She sipped her drink, thinking. "Now we have to deal with the planet trying to break up underneath us, and rampant magic." "Well, whatever. Like I care." Tenna shrugged flippantly. "The Council, the human royalty, and the Charr Imperator, while they saw the benefits, worried the network would fall into less-than-admirable hands, and so quashed the idea immediately. Permanently forbid me from seeking funding for the network. So I was left with just my test satellite, and it's non-city-smashing laser." "They didn't take that one away?" "Not a chance. I bonded the control system to my own genetic structure, magic wavelength run through a cipher, voice control... and several other systems." She replied. "That satellite is mine; it's keyed to wipe out anything that approaches it that doesn't have my specific okay, which means coming from my labs with ALL my signatures on it. Its use is connected to me in a way I won't go into, but no one other than me can use it." She began to giggle again. "I can hit anyone I see from orbit with a pinpoint high energy strike born of the very energy of our world. And there's nothing anyone can do to stop it." "They could kill you. Let it just drift in space." Sonnya offered sardonically. She pointed a finger-gun at her youngest sibling and closed an eye, sighting over an invisible iron sight. "No control, no weapon." Tenna smiled broadly, eyes closed in utter confidence, so very much like when they were younger. The cute redhead goofball from the past was suddenly before her older sister. "They could try. I've made it MUCH harder to kill me. And I don't think they'd like the consequences of killing me. It'd be...detrimental." She tilted her head to the side, oddly, still smiling. That smile, as playful as it was, was definitely giving Sonnya the creeps. It wasn't healthy. "How so?" The goofball grin shifted into something much less innocent; Tenna's eyes were hooded with something less wholesome than mere mischief. "If I die suddenly, the satellite goes on automatic. I've embedded scanners and sensors in my armor, and in my own body, thanks to a very capable sylvari surgeon. That satellite is recieving a constant datafeed from me. It doesn't matter if I don't see my killer; one of my sensors will. And then a moment later, the killer will be obliterated by a terawatt laser. The system is as heuristic as I can make it; all vectors included. If an Inquest shithead kills me, the laser starts with them, and then proceeds to work its way through the database of Inquest labs and fortresses, before taking down individual targets with a powered down version of the laser. Less collateral damage that way." She sipped her drink again, and this time Miriya noticed her eyes seemed to shimmer or glow brighter afterward. The bags under her eyes seemed to recede, and she looked slightly more refreshed. Whatever she'd slipped into her drink, it was reviving her? Miriya could feel something, on the edge of thought, the edge of reality; there was something familiar.... An energy of some kind, a violation of Death itself. It was minor right now, but with each second it was gaining resolution. She sat there confused as Tenna continued to blather about her weapons. "You're talking about potential mass murder from a weapon no one else can reach, Tenna. " Sonnya scolded, her concern rising with each moment. "Don't you think that's a little excessive?" Tenna shrugged mildly, still drinking her whiskey. "Not really. Vexa built her lab in Flame Legion territory to contain and continue her genetic experiments. Calx hid his lab behind a gateway system in the heart of a mountain. Oola hid hers in the jungle to keep people from her Necro-golem research (interesting concept, I'd have you). Our people have a history of hiding our best research and gear and all that behind layers of defenses and automatic weaponry. Mine is just orbitally based, and VERY vengeful." She started to laugh, rocking in her seat and slapping a palm against the table top. "I'm just following everyone else!" While she laughed, Miriya and Sonnya passed a look between each other. Had their sister officially lost her mind? It was true Asuran paranoia was well known, and the best researchers and inventors had sequestred themselves away from others for the sake of hiding their research until they were ready to reveal it...but... Tenna's laughter finally started to fade, and she brushed a tear from her eye before draining her drink. With a triumphant slam, she signalled for a fresh drink from the bar. "'Nother one! I'm still seeing straight!" There it was again; when Tenna drained the drink, that odd sensation, that whisper Miriya was hearing in the back of her mind got louder. Much louder. It was seemingly focused on Tenna. She stared at her sister as she cracked another vial into her new drink, stirring it with a finger. Miriya glanced at Sonnya, and noticed she too seemed suddenly wary. Was she feeling something?

Unbeknownst to Miriya, she was right; Sonnya felt something disturbing as well. As a Guardian, she was trained to notice changes, both magically and physically in the area around her. It was part of Guardian training to master any battlefield, which meant that if the battlefield suddenly started to change, you studied and adapted to it. Foreign weapon making fighting hard? Adjust. Alien magic warping your opponent or the landscape or something? Identify, adjust, eliminate. Purge the unclean with holy fire based from the diamond hard sureity of your own soul. The stronger your faith was, the more you could undo the damage someone had done.

All too often, Sonnya's mere prescence on the Vigil battlefield had sent Orrian monstrosities reeling. The flames of her devotion to the cause manifested ghostly blue fire across her entire body, and, combined with the channelling crystals and specialized sigils she had personally installed in every piece of her gear, she could vent those flames as a physical weapon; no ally would ever be harmed, but anyone that stood in her path would burn. In a private, self-indulgant moment, she had once confessed she called it the Exterminatus. Sitting there, staring at her youngest sibling as she drank a drink corrupted with...something... she could feel that distortion to the Right Order growing. What had Tenna gotten into?!

It was Miriya who suddenly recognized the unfamiliar-yet-familiar distortion. Her face paled as she realized just what it was, but... how had Tenna gotten her hands on it?!

"Tenna..." She asked tenatively. "What...is that you mixed into your drink?" Tenna paused her stirring, but didn't look at her sister at all. Her voice was low, almost a whisper. A small, knowing smile crossed her lips. "Oh, it's just... something. Something very interesting." She replied, feigning evasiveness.

"How so?" Sonnya added, her voice hard. It was less a question than a demand. Big sister needed to be big sister.

"It was quite interesting actually. Several months ago, a plasma sample was sent to the Dynamics labs. It was bounced around the labs, with no one making progress since there was little detail on its origins. All data had been put under lock and key. Or deliberately omitted." She sat back, smiling wistfully. "So there I was, in the Synergetics labs, struggling to deal with stress, lack of sleep, requests for translations from the Priory, an upcoming presentation for an invention I hadn't created yet... and this vial gets passed to me by a coworker who was seeing a girl in Dynamics." Her smile twisted slightly. It seemed slightly more toothy than before. "Well, I did my own analysis and discovered that there was something very wrong with the sample. There was an active blood-borne viral parasite component latched onto every single red blood cell, even the white cells. I did an analysis of the T cells, and discovered that the viral component was bypassing the normal immune responses by literally being slightly out of phase; every time a leukocyte started to draw a bead on one and try to kill it, the virus's membrane coating would shift chaotically until it no longer matched up. Very tenacious." "So the immune system couldn't touch it, and yet it wasn't killing cells. This virus, if you could call it that, was making subtle, random changes to the DNA of its target. Some of the changes were fairly regular, which means whoever the poor bastard is, they're gonna start seeing some teratological changes the longer they're infected." Tenna shook her head. "I don't know precisely what that'll entail, but it won't kill them. Oh no...definitely not." "You see, the virus was also actively repairing telomeres. It wasn't reversing telomere damage that had happened prior to infection, but no new telomeres were being lost." She glanced at her sisters. "The subject of that virus was no longer going to age. Whatever age they were infected at, they might age two for every ten now. The virus isn't perfect, but it's damned good at its job." Miriya's mind was racing; she was right. She knew who the sample came from...and where they'd got the virus. Oh alchemy...is that why? Is that why things are starting to change? "What...what else do you know about it?" Tenna looked over at her suspiciously, and then smirked knowingly. "Oh... not much. Just that it tries to improve its host while following some unknown guideline. I got markers for enhanced strength, muscle-changes increasing reaction muscle, a marker for eyesight change, but I don't know what... things like that. Enhanced healing and regeneration, since it co-opts the ATP production and triples it. I imagine that if the infection continues uncontested that there might come a time when the 'victim', if you can call it that, might be able to lose a limb and regrow it in a matter of minutes, at the cost of personal stored energy. Lose an arm and regrow it in three minutes, but need to eat like an Arctodus shortly after. You'd be RAVENOUS." She started to giggle. There was something unhealthy about that giggle. It was too deep, too personal. Like there was something about the pun that was so very, very funny that only she'd get the joke. "Ravenous... which the virus takes into account in a very, very interesting way." Tenna toyed with the vial in her fingers, watching the leftover fluid rolling around the glass. "It depletes iron something fierce. More when there's injury. The need for iron, for....hemoglobin... will be an almost unstoppable thirst. The subject will be able to surpress it the same way you surpress being hungry...but at some point, they WILL give in to the Thirst." She dipped a finger into the vial and brought out a golden droplet on her finger, before delicately licking it off her fingertip. "Keep the virus happy, it keeps you happy. And makes you better as a gift." There was an almost audible snap as both sisters came to the same realization. "No... you didn't....?" "That's obscene! You didn't seriously test it on..." All Tenna could do was smile.  A wide, toothy smile. In fact, it was perhaps too toothy. Asura were known for their sharp teeth, but Tenna's seemed just a little bit TOO sharp. Miriya stared at her sister in horror. It was true. She had been right; somehow, Kaleb's infected blood sample, his blood infected by whatever made that bitch Maeva into a fleshreaving monster, had made it to Tenna's desk. And she'd gone and... "Oh unclench, you two." Tenna giggled. "I stabilized the virus easily. The reason why it was so unstable was because it was laced with a Torment energy. Once that was stripped away, I used my sciences and skill with magical manipulation to reprogram it to what I wanted. Enhanced healing, stamina, strength, etc." Almost as an afterthought, she added "I couldn't remove the Thirst aspect though. Every attempt destroyed the virus. It's too deeply built into its structure to remove entirely." Both older sisters shifted slightly away from their sibling. She'd deliberately infected herself with a viral component just....because? Sonnya shook her head in disappointment. "I'm not one to use another culture's euphamisms, Tenna, but, By the Six, what in the hell have you done to yourself?" Tenna's eyes shrouded, their sullen orange glowing a vibrant gold. "Made. Myself. Better. And if you can't handle that, then this is where we draw the lines. There are those who accept me, accept the changes I've made. They don't judge me like you two." She glared at Miriya. "You, the Twice-dead. The Deathshroud addict. The Scourge of the wastes. You with your minions cobbled together with the expended life-essence of countless things, imbued with intelligence from beyond the grave. You who hides a romance with a HUMAN." She hissed the word, as if it were a curse. " You would dare judge ME? " Her gaze snapped over to her oldest sister. "Or you. The stoic one. The consumate soldier and blessed older sister. The 'responsible' one. The one hiding an even deeper secret than a love of a bookah. You would judge me? How dare you." Sonnya twitched like she'd been slapped. "Both of you left me in Rata Sum. I ended up joining the Priory because I didn't know anything about the outer world, because you LEFT ME THERE." She clenched her fists. "I didn't have the virus back then, but when I returned to work on that paper, it was there waiting for me. Like a gift. A boon in the disguise of a curse. I no longer needed to fear being weak and helpless compared to my powerful sisters." She glared at them both. "One of you has incredible magic powers, and the other has strength born of nothing but FAITH of all things. I had none of that. I had my inventions, my tools, and my ideas. But that virus..." she sighed tiredly. "I was so tired of being stressed out. Of wondering if I'd be accidentally killed in a lab accident, or an Inquest raid. Of the distant worry of being annihilated by Dragons  or their minions. Or a mad human god or two. Do you have any idea how afraid I was?" Her grip on the vial was tightening, the glass creaking in her grasp. "There was no way out for me. But then I found the virus, purified it, rectified it... And now I know there's nothing that can stop me. Me or my allies." For a long, painful moment there was dead silence. Neither older sister knew what to say. Miriya tried to reach out to her, but Tenna shook off her hand. Sonnya just crossed her arms, slouching, and stared into her drink, contemplating how badly things had gotten screwed up. "...I've left the Priory. Told them I was on sabbatical. Same thing for the Dynamics college." Tenna whispered. She squeezed the vial again; this time a faint crick of cracking glass could be heard from her palm. "I don't think I'll be going back. The only place I need to be is with my allies...with my friends. If I need protecting, they'll protect me. And they know they can count on me to protect them in turn." "You...found a krewe." "No...not a krewe. A team. Strangers. Odd ones like me, who don't fit in." Her voice was sad, even as her grip tightened. This time there was a noticable snap, and shards of glass dribbled out of her hand, followed by a thin streamer of blood. As calm as she looked at that moment, she'd crushed the vial and cut her palm. What unsettled Miriya and Sonnya though, was the fact that Tenna had shown utterly no reaction to it. She hadn't flinched, blinked, or even changed expression. It was like she hadn't felt it, even though she was looking at her hand. Slowly, delicately, she opened her hand, letting the larger chunks fall to the table, before plucking individual shards out of her palm and fingers. At no point did she show a sign of pain. In fact, she was almost smilingly with wonder. when she was done, she held her hand up for them to see. "....Cuts are already healing. In another minute, they'll be fully healed." "That fast..." Miriya breathed, visibly watching the wounds seal. She'd only seen that kind of healing through the use of magic or various concoctions. Seeing it from just someone's body was amazing. "...pain reduction, endorphine release. Rapid healing and regeneration." Tenna flexed her fingers, still bloody. Idly she brought her hand to her mouth and began to lick the blood away, leaving a smear on her cheeks and jaw as she dragged her hand across her mouth. "Mmm...waste-not-want-not. Might have to get a Dolyak burger later. Like I said, there's a trade off..." "Tenna, I..."  Sonnya began, but a male voice from the door interrupted her. "Tenna. Are you ready?" Sillouetted in the door were three figures and an animal. The first was a human, male, with slicked back sandy-blonde hair. A pair of glasses adorned a face marked with a very prominent mark over his right eye. At first glance it looked like he'd been punched or scratched, but a closer inspection revealled it as a very elaborate and foreign symbol of some kind. He had blue eyes, but it must have been a trick of the lighting; the eye that the symbol/bruise was centered on had some kind of glow or reflection in its pupil, visible for a second before fading. Miriya had to do a double-take when she realized what he was wearing. There were minor differences in details, like the gloves were clearly Elonian gauntlets, but he seemed to be wearing a heavily modified suit of Aetherblade Magitech armor. It had been a while since she’d seen that kind of gear, but it was unmistakable with the furnace-like power core at his neck and the spiked shoulder guard who’s glow spoke of hidden magitech.   Certainly, suits of that kind had been salvaged from the Breachmaker after it went down, but usually ruined or in pieces. His seemed...tailor-made. Could he have been an Aetherblade? She wondered. There were no records of crew to be salvaged, and all the other sky pirates had either been captured and forced into servitude to pay off their crimes, or had escaped deep into the Mists with their airships, presumably to other Scarlet Briar bases as-yet undiscovered. The second was a dark rose-tinted sylvari with collapsable twinswords at her hips. Though the lines of her face were delicate and could be considered beautiful, the hard expression on her face told of a severe personality. Contrasting that severity, her hair was like soft fern fronds or jade plant, smooth and curling. She looked uneasily at the sisters, almost disapprovingly, her expression revealling a mark on her jaw that seemed to be a scar of some kind, curving down along her jawline. As they watched, her natural sylvari glow, pale green, illuminated that scar. It would have been unnoticable were it not for the glow. Behind them, twice as big as any of them and armored in the most brutal armor any of them had ever seen was a Charr dam. Long white hair hung down from her tawny head, her helmet latched to a belt loop. Her armor, contrary to standard Legion colors, was an unassuming gunmetal grey, trimmed by the darkest black and a bright, warning yellow. In places, if one looked carefully, you could see chevroned 'warning' markers emblazoned along her plate. One grand shoulderpad held an embossed Dreadnought helm symbol, shining in silver. The last figure was a very large, confused looking striped cat near the human. It looked around the bar, panting, before making a murph noise and nuzzling the gloved hand of the human. "Cyrus. Yeah, I'm ready. " She looked around the table reluctantly, before leaving it. "... I think I'm done here." The human ranger nodded stiffly, and glanced at the other sisters. "Are these your...." "Yeah. Miriya of the Whispers, and Sonnya of the Vigil." He nodded to both of them, face neutral, though his eyes caught both of theirs and stared straight through them. "A pleasure to meet you." Tenna paused as she neared Cyrus, and turned to her sisters. "Girls... these are my allies. Cyrus Sigismund, a Ranger, and his cat Dangles... Moryggan Deraleth of the Dawn, a Mesmer." There was a sniff of distaste from the Mesmer, who turned and left the doorway. "And the big one is Verula Faithbreaker, of the Iron Legion, daughter of Perturaba Forgebreaker." Verula just grunted, not saying anything. She turned to look at something outside, and Sonnya could immediately see that the axe on her hip wasn't any normal axe. For one, it had eyes and horns. Three eyes, actually. And it was breathing through a horrifyingly tooth-filled maw. What in the Alchemy is THAT?! She wondered, unable to take her eyes off the living violation strapped to the Charr's hip. Sonnya eyed them, pursing her lips. "So... you know what our sister has...done?" Cyrus nodded slowly. "We don't care. It's not a concern to any of us." "Even if she wants to...." He shrugged. "She brought up the subject. It doesn't matter to Moryggan at all, doesn't concern Verula, and I personally just don't care. What happens happens." "Huh. I see." Cyrus seemed to consider something before looking straight at Sonnya. "...if it will make you relax, you should know that we all take care of each other. When one steps out of line, the others will be there to make sure they step back." Another shrug. "It's how we work. Our balance." "Balance." He nodded, and turned away. "Let's go. We still have to book accomodations for the night." Tenna smiled brightly up at him. "Already done! I booked one of the larger rooms; Normally meant for noble families and their entourage. It'll have a LOT of beds." He smiled back, the stoic demeanor shedding for a moment in a tired smile. "That's great. I hate divvying up bed assignments on the spot." The Charr made a disrespectful snort. "Yeah. Especially when you snore like you do." "You snore louder than me, woman." He retorted, smirking, before they all walked away. Miriya and Sonnya could hear a few more ripostes and some laughter, but it faded quickly. The two sisters stared into their drinks, contemplating everything their little sister had told them. Miriya made a decision and downed the remainder of hers before pushing away from the table. "... I have to go. I have...business in Rata Sum in the morning. I've been expecting some test results back on something...anomalous." Sonnya too, drained her stein, wiping a bit of foam away from her lips. "As do I. Not in Rata Sum though. I have inquiries to make through my contacts. Perhaps I'll look up our sister's companions?..." She cast a raised eyebrow to her necromantic sibling. The necromancer sighed and nodded. "I'll check with my...sources. If I find anything, don't be surprised if you suddenly find a file in your archives that wasn't there a minute ago." She smirked. "Of course, I disavow any knowledge of it, should it turn out to be after-action reports and spy reports from redacted sources known by the Whispers." "I'll be sure to accidentally spill my coffee on it, and then trip on the way past the fireplace." Sonnya replied, leaving her seat and tossing some coin on the table for all their drinks, including Tenna's. "After I read it of course. Might I suggest double-copying the redacted version so that I can't do something silly like remove the black bars covering things like names and such?" "Sounds like a good idea for security." Miriya nodded, smirking. "But since I have NO idea what papers you speak of, and I am merely a humble Pact agent, I'm afraid it's just falling on deaf ears..." "Oh yes, pardon my blathering." Sonnya chuckled and headed outside, giving her sister a final over-the-shoulder wave. "I look forward to finding out who and what our sister's friends truly are."

I See You (Through the Dark)

I got inspired by something I found over on Pinterest about being able to see the beauty in everything around them except for in themselves. 

This is for those who want a little feel-good fic.

“Here.”

Alec stopped mid-stride at the entrance of Orchard Park. He took a quick look around, then moved the two of them over to the bench near the fence. It was perfectly angled under the tree where the sunlight broke through in small rays of heaven. This time of year warranted a change of colors within the leaves, and the entire park seemed to be made of gold. The light, the leaves… Everything was perfect.

The breeze picked up and blew a single leaf into Alec’s lap. It was between the stage of soft and crispy. Alec picked it up and set it in Magnus’ hands. His eyes were closed as he took in all the information that he relayed to him. A small smile pulled at the corner of his lips, and Alec knew he was right.

“Tell me more.”

There were dogs running around with their owners in tow, some throwing balls back and forth as they walked. Several kids were chasing one another in a small game of tag. Their cries of joy could easily be heard across the large plain of grass. It widened the smile on Magnus’ face.

Alec continued to note the way that the wind was blowing and its effect on the leaves. Some fell and glinted like flecks of gold while others resembled fire. The sky started to change colors soon after. The pale blue turned pink and purple, some gentle shades of red, before plummeting into dark purples and blues. It was beautiful. Alec could watch the sunset for hours.

When there was no excuse to stay any longer, Alec stood. “C’mon. Let’s get you home.”

Their next outing was two days later. They were strolling around Fifth Street when Magnus told him to stop. “Here.”

Alec settled them against the brick wall of Russo’s Sandwich Shop.

There were still light clouds scattered across the sky after their small rain shower that had snuck in during the late hours of the night. Alec recalled waking up to the soft sound of the patter on his terrace. There was evidence of rainfall on the street as well - puddles big and small. Some were large enough for swimming, he noted.

Magnus chuckled. His eyes were closed again. He had once told him it enhanced whatever he was telling him.

There was also the faint glow of sunlight on the apartments, duplexes, and small shops around the street. The reflections and sun glares made it seem like there were stars during the day. Across the street, there was a terrace with several potted plants - all cacti - of different sizes and shapes. The room next to it had their windows wide open with a woman vacuum-dancing the flat and the Backstreet Boys blaring from the stereo.

“Is she a good dancer?” Magnus asked. He liked the finer details.

Alec shrugged, then corrected himself by continuing. He supposed that she was a good enough of a dancer - especially when he compared her moves to his own. He would look like a fish out of water vacuum-dancing like her. He could tell, however, that she was far too into the music. She kept pausing to dance or shout the lyrics rather than continue cleaning, which became a problem when she bumped into the same side-table twice. There was no more dancing for her that afternoon.

Magnus stifled a laugh. “Is she pretty?”

Alec scrunched his nose. He knew for a fact Magnus was pulling his leg. He knew he had no particular interest in women, in any sense, and still wanted the gay man’s opinion of description. The woman looked the type to be a heartbreaker - the kind to keep you on the edge of awareness and make you forget who you are and where you are all in the same moment. But there was still a seed of surprise in her, and clearly her ideas of entertainment. Alec would sum it up with a solid, I guess.

“Shame,” Magnus sighed, then opened his eyes. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing a few strands around before they settled back down on his forehead. Alec brushed them out of the way. “Thank you. Lunch?”

Alec agreed. Whatever Magnus wanted.

It had been nearly a week since their lunch date - which was not a real date in any sense of the word - and Alec was craving - more like wanting very, very, very badly - to spend time with Magnus. Alec went next door to get the finely dressed man when the rain decided to make an appearance and ruin any chance he had to spend the afternoon with him.

Magnus opened the door and let him in nonetheless. “Do you mind? Spending the day inside?”

Never. Any time with Magnus was already well-spent regardless of where they were. They could be stranded or surrounded by spiders - or maybe no spiders in particular, just as a strictly professional example - and Alec would enjoy his company.

Magnus poured them some drinks. It was nothing special, just some soda he had stashed in the fridge. He carefully slid the glass across the coffee table as they settled by the couch.

Alec knew it was coming long before he started drinking when Magnus said, “Here.”

They had never done it in his apartment before. They liked to keep it outside where it was unpredictable and everything changed day to day. Reading the inside of where he lived was walking a very thin line that Alec hoped to not cross. He grounded himself nonetheless.

There was something very comfortable about the arrangement of the room. It was very simple - very Magnus. Alec took pride in noting that he very much liked it.

Magnus urged him to continue.

The bookshelves that lined the entire wall perpendicular to the balcony was well-loved. There was some dust on other sections, showing that there was less attention in these areas of literature - Patterson, Orwell, and Roth. Then there was the center section that was organized completely different that the rest. While the others were organized alphabetically by the author’s last name, this section was by color, and without any dust to say they weren’t tenderly loved and cared after. Shakespeare, Christie, and Evanovich were among them.

“They’re classic,” Magnus objected.

Alec continued without the encouragement. The balcony was the best part of the entire flat, Alec had to be honest. The kitchen was very nice and up to date with every fixture and design, but he was never able to get control over the stove after one of his college incidents. He appreciated the room from afar. The balcony, however, was not like that. It beckoned Alec forward. The drapes that framed the large double, glass doors would billow with the easy breeze like a long-waited breath from someone above. The view from the building looked down over the river and towards the horizon of never-ending condos and businesses. It was also perfect to watch the sun rise and set over the large radio tower towards the south end. The gray hue that came with the rain did nothing to hinder the treasure of this apartment.

“You always have a way with words, Alexander.”

Alexander. Magnus always had a way with the saying of his name. It ignited his bones with this intense spark that made him feel like he could do anything. If he could listen to any word on repeat from Magnus’ lips it would be his name.

“So tell me about you.”

Alec loosed a tight breath from his chest. They had done this once before at a time where they weren’t as close or as friendly as they were now. He kept his descriptions short and clipped. He hesitated.

He didn't know where to start. There was nothing that struck him as the first thing to start talking about. He decided to start from head to toe. He got his dark hair from his grandfather, but his eyes from his great-grandmother on his father’s side. They reminded him of green tea that had been sitting out for too long and mixed with coffee grounds. He had a scar on his eyebrow from when his youngest brother took a tumble and he dove to stop him from hitting the corner of the countertop. It made his face asymmetrical and the topic of every discussion with distant relatives. He noted a few birth marks on his shoulders and the large one on his neck that attracted more people staring than asking questions. He’d prefer an interrogation rather than the looks he got from people on the street or at his job.

He moved down his body, and all the while Magnus was quiet. There was nothing on his face that would indicate that he approved of his description, nor deny it. He was completely stoic.

By the time he finished, he was out of breath but felt indescribably lighter. He massaged his thumb hard into the center of his palm as he awaited a reply - anything - from Magnus.

The first thing he got was a swipe of his thumb across his bottom lip. Then, a response, “Just like the first time, Alexander.”

His heart dropped. There was no other way that he knew to describe himself except for being concise and quick.

“It’s ironic, really. I don’t need my sight to see that you, Alexander, are undeniably and irrevocably beautiful.”

Alec opened his mouth to object, to say anything, but nothing came out of his lips. It was just a pained whine, and Magnus was there holding his hands.

“Calluses from working too hard, you say. I see a hardworking man who is dedicated and motivated to get further in life - don’t argue with me, you know it’s true deep down.”

Alec did.

“Broad shoulders for a bulky figure. Excuse me, but, bullshit. If anything, it makes you a protector - hell, a superhero. Just the perfect size for me, I say.”

Alec would be his superhero in a heartbeat. He gulped.

“Birthmarks and scars… They show your story, Alec. Your life. Your journey. Don’t let anyone take that away from you. Plus…” Magnus dragged his thumb through his split eyebrow. “The scar is sexy. Makes you rugged.”

Alec all but melted into the couch. He pressed into the palm of his hand without really thinking about it. The warmth was what he needed. “I-I’ve never seen myself as beautiful.”

“Darling.” I know, was heard without having to be said. Alec didn’t know he was crying until Magnus was wiping away a stray tear. “You have always been beautiful to me. Always will.”

Alec eased further into Magnus’ warmth, nearly tumbling off the couch to get as close as possible. Magnus laughed when his lap suddenly became full with the rugged, dark-haired man. “Are we still on for tomorrow?”

“Rain or shine, Magnus. Rain or shine.”

My Personal Favorite

Inspired (but not requested because requests are closed) by @babybee05

Genre: AU/Fluff

Pairing: Yongguk x You

By Admin B

As unbelievable as it was, he had been your very first customer.

You hadn’t always wanted to start your own business. Growing up, you’d wanted to be a many number of things: a doctor, a fashion designer, a software engineer, a teacher... It wasn’t until your college years when your older sister got married when you realized something kind of strange but life-changing. You liked flowers.

You liked flowers, and you were really good at arranging them.

One of your roommates at the time had suggested you change your major to business so you could start your own florist shop. You’d thought she was crazy, of course. Flower arranging was a hobby, not a career.

So, after graduation, you had found an entry-level position at a marketing company. 

And you’d hated it. 

Not even a year into it, and you’d wanted to quit. But it paid well enough, so you stuck with it. You saved up as much money as you could, counting down the days until you could leave your small, dark cubicle and buy a small space for your shop. Your flower shop.

You were going to do it. You were going to turn your hobby into a career, even if it was absolutely crazy. Flowers just made you happy. And if you don’t do what makes you happy, are you really living?

The day you’d finally left your job was one of the happiest, scariest days of your life. You left your office, driving to the tiny store for which you’d just signed a lease. You’d sat on the empty floor, looking around and wondering if you were making a huge mistake. Or if you were making the best decision of your life.

A few months later, you had tied balloons to awning, painted ‘NOW OPEN’ in huge, pastel-colored letters on the windows, and... you’d waited. You’d waited for your first customer.

About halfway-through your day, he had appeared.

Not only were you excited to actually get some business, but... the guy who’d walked in had been one of the most good-looking guys you’d ever seen. And when he’d smiled at you in greeting? Goodbye.

“How can I help you?” you’d asked with a smile. 

“The biggest bouquet of daisies you have, please,” he’d replied.

“Just plain, white daisies?”

“There are... different types of daisies?”

“Oh, absolutely! Shasta daisies are your typical daisies. But then there are your purple coneflowers, your Gerber daisies, and my personal favorite type of daisy, Marguerite daisies.”

“We’ll go with those, then. The Marguerite kind,” he’d said with a nod.

You’d gone into the small warehouse attached to the back of your store, picking out about three dozen of the pink-purple flowers. You wrapped some twine around the stems and made a cone with some brown butcher paper.

“Oh, these are perfect,” the customer had said. “Thank you so much.”

He’d paid with a credit card (something you were too excited about, as you now knew his name was Bang Yongguk), smiled at you one last time, and headed out the door.

Well. Even if you went out of business tomorrow, at least you’d got to see that angel of a man.

Much to your surprise, Yongguk had returned the next week. He’d beamed at you, saying simply “She loved them. What else do you have?”

And that had started your weekly ritual of seeing Yongguk and picking out a new assortment of flowers for him. He would come in all excited, wondering what you would pick out this time. And every time he would be impressed, even if you handed him another simple bouquet of Marguerite daisies.

It had occurred to you he was buying these flowers for his girlfriend, of course, but... it wasn’t a crime to daydream, was it? He was handsome, kind, funny, had a stunning smile, and he was obviously very thoughtful. If your boyfriend (who didn’t exist at the moment, but whatever) brought you flowers every week, you would never let him go.

Almost a year had gone by since Yongguk had first walked into your store. He was your first and most loyal customer, and you were kind of convinced you wouldn’t still be in business without him.

You were currently in the back putting together some arrangements for a wedding you’d been booked to do, but then you heard the bell over the front door ding, signaling to you someone had arrived.

“I’ll be right out!” you called, quickly trimming the stems of some hydrangeas.

“Take your time, Y/N,” you heard Yongguk answer. A shy smile came to your lips as your heart soared. Yes, it had been almost a year, but you still had a massive crush on him.

When you rushed through the doorway connecting the front of the store and your warehouse, you beamed at him in greeting, wiping your hands on your apron. “Hey, there. What are we looking for this week?”

“Well, it’s my grandma’s birthday, so I want something a little more special this time.”

You froze, your forehead wrinkling at his words. “Your...grandma?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, one-half of his mouth lifting up into a smirk.

“So... I’m sorry, I hope this isn’t rude, but... all these flowers -- they’ve been for your grandma?”

Yongguk nodded again, leaning against the front counter as he studied the pictures you’d laid out of all the different kinds of flowers you carried as well as the arrangements you’d put together so far. “She grew up in the country, and her family owned a greenhouse. She loves flowers, but her arthritis is too bad to grow them herself. So I buy her some every week so she always has some to look at.”

...Okay, you honestly could cry right now. You could cry because of how sweet his gesture actually was. You could cry because of how poignant the situation was. But you could also cry because you were so relieved to know they weren’t for a girlfriend.

“What, did you think I was buying them for my girlfriend or something?” he asked. He was still studying the pictures on the counter, but you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Well,” you chuckled nervously. “I just assumed.”

Yongguk looked up at you then, his gaze nothing short of piercing. “Nah. I don’t have one.”

You blinked. You gulped. Your heart was racing.

“...Right,” you murmured. Oh my god, he didn’t have a girlfriend. “So, um, something special then.”

“Yeah, something... different.”

You momentarily forgot about how quickly your heart was beating, your focus transferring to flowers for the time being. “Ooh,” you chirped, your eyes widening. “I know just the thing. Be right back.”

You rummaged around in the back until you found just what you were looking for: a bouquet of Dahlias, the petals edged with a bright purple color and a wash of yellow on the inside. They were certainly the most unique flowers you had at the moment, and Yongguk had never purchased anything like them before.

When you joined him back at the counter, he grinned. “Those are perfect. Purple’s her favorite color.”

“Oh, really? Mine, too.” You handed him the bouquet, and when he began to take his wallet out, you shook your head.

“Birthday flowers are on the house,” you insisted.

Yongguk seemed like he was about to protest, but then he stopped himself. He smiled a bit shyly, nodding to you in thanks before turning and heading out the door.

As you watched him get in his car and walk off, you leaned your elbow on the counter, letting out a long sigh. Another week, another visit from your favorite customer. And now you knew he was single, your daydreams would only get worse. Something to look forward to, I guess.

The next day, you were in the middle of ringing up a customer when you heard the door open. You looked up, a smile automatically coming to your lips. But when you saw it was none other than Yongguk, your smile became genuine.

When the customer left, you narrowed your eyes at Yongguk a little suspiciously. “Back so soon? To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Well, first,” Yongguk began, his eyes shining as he held back a huge grin. “My grandma loved the flowers. She... uh, she wants another bouquet. But she didn’t say which kind, so just... pick out your favorite.”

“My favorite?” you asked, tilting your head slightly in confusion.

“Yeah, whichever ones you like best.”

“Okay...” You slowly turned, heading back into the warehouse and putting together a large mix of Appalachian violets in different shades of white, pink, and purple.

You handed the bouquet to Yongguk when you arrived back at the counter, and he already had his wallet out and ready this time. Apparently he wouldn’t let you be generous today.

After he paid for them, he just... kind of stood there. And so did you. Staring at him. Wondering what he was doing.

“Actually...” Yongguk murmured, sounding just a bit nervous. And then he held the flowers out to you.

“What do you mean?” you asked, thoroughly confused.

“I figured most people don’t think to buy flowers for the florist, so... These are for you.”

Your jaw dropped slightly as you reached out to take the bouquet. “You... really? For me?”

“You’ve helped me so much, so I figured... you deserve flowers meant specifically for you. Not flowers for you to arrange and sell.”

“Oh my god,” you whispered. And then you looked at him with a watery smile, embarrassed at how close you were to crying. “Thank you. That’s honestly... the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

Yongguk smiled bashfully, sticking his hands in his pockets and glancing at the ground. “And... before I go... I was wondering... if maybe you’re free this Saturday?”

“Yes,” you replied immediately. You didn’t even take the time to process that Yongguk was actually asking you out. You didn’t take the time to think about if you really were free on Saturday or not. If you did have any plans, you would cancel them.

Yongguk was asking if you were free, so you were going to be free.

“If you like to eat, I know a really good restaurant that --”

“I love eating. I do it all the time. Yes.”

“Okay,” he chuckled. “What time do you close the shop?”

“I can close it whenever. I own the place, so I can do that kind of thing.”

“So... how about... 6?”

“That sounds perfect.”

“I’ll pick you up then.”

You simply nodded, now too breathless and excited to actually say anything. But when the door closed behind him, you managed to let out a squeal.

You immediately texted your roommate from college, thanking her for being the one to bring up opening your own flower shop. If she hadn’t, you wouldn’t be one of the happiest human beings on the planet right now.

Master list // RULES // Submit a Request! // Read About the Admins

Prompt writing Group? 20,Apr,2018 - 04,May, 2018. Prompt: IT’S NOT MY FAULT. Final word count: 2270. Written By: Keenon Rhodes.

It’s not my fault I am trespassing, the hotel receptionist didn’t interact with me, No ‘How can I help you today?’, not a ‘Is there anything I can do for you?’, not even a simple ‘welcome!’, just a half second uninterested glance. It’s thanks to her negligence that I can do something I have always wanted to do; see the inside of this place.

This building is much older than I thought it was, I knew it was old but seeing a year really puts it into perspective. In the lobby there is a painting of the hotel from the perspective of the streets in 1913 when it first opened. In the painting there is only one street, a lot more trees and one other building; the train station that is still open today.

Let me think, my grandmother died in 91’ she was 83 at the time meaning she was born in… 1908? So she would have been five! Wow my grandmother is older than this place, or was. I sound like a little kid thinking like that it’s kinda nice. I remember she told me she had stayed in this hotel on her wedding night on the tenth floor, said looking out the window was one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen.

Unfortunately I need a card key to gain access to the elevator, that’s okay I’ll just walk along green marble floor for a while, it’s unexpectedly empowering. Maybe it’s seeing a reflection of various shades of mossy greens looks quite handsome I think I will sit in one of the lobby chairs, admire the reflections of others.

The upholstery of the chair look like it had a lot of care put into it, very intricate and the closer I look at it the more detail I notice, like a hand made tapristy, truly a work of beauty. I really don’t belong here, I must stick out like a sore thumb everyone I have seen walk by are wearing some very fashionable fine looking clothing. I am just here in jeans and a t-shirt Is it normal for someone to walk in from the street, sit down and watch people as they walk by?

The sight of a family in the reflection compels me to break my eyes away from the emerald floor, they embodied aristocracy like whoever designed this hotel also designed this family. One of the kids has a card and activate the elevator, I decided to wait for the elevator with them. All of us are completely silent watching the red digital numbers count down.

I remember when I was about fourteen mom and dad took my sister and I to Ottawa and the whole time we were so loud, constantly making jokes and telling stories it’s like we never ran out of things to talk about. We even got a noise complaint from another guest in the motel we were staying in, but that was on our last night so we just ended up being louder. It was a lot of fun.

The elevator door slides open making almost no noise, it’s spacious enough to fit a couch which half of the family floop onto as soon as they get in. Without looking up from his phone the father presses on the button marked seven I step in and press the button marked ten. Just like that I am on my way? No one is going to see if I have a card of my own?

The sharp ping from the elevator hitting floor ten breaks my thought, I was so wrapped up in my own head I didn’t even realize the family stepped off the elevator. Did one of them try to ask me something? I must be mistaken. The door of the elevator begins to close, I stick my hand out activating the motion sensor, the door jumps to a stop like a startled rabbit before slowly retreating. I step onto floor ten...I think all the doors are locked.

Why did I never get a pet rabbit? I remember at one point in my life I had that thought or at least the idea of having a pet rabbit. Now that I think about it, was it that I wanted a rabbit as a friend? How young was I when I had this thought? For some reason I remember my hand was full of marshmallow. RIGHT when I was four my parents had taken me camping for the first time. I burnt my hand trying to grab a hot marshmallow off the fire, I must have thought about wanting a rabbit as a friend right before the pain hit me, I wonder if I still have the scar.

It’s there, it’s very faint, I have to stretch my fingers very wide and hold it at a specific angle so the light hits it just right, but it’s there. I use to look at it so much even show it off when I was in my teens, it use to be so much more predominant I guess time really does heal all wounds. I lower my hand and notice something directly in front of me, on the ceiling; a security camera pointed right at me.

How long have I been standing here staring at my palm like a weirdo? Has hotel security been watching me this whole time? I let my arm fall back to my side and walk away from the mechanical gaze but now I can’t shake the feeling that I am being watched very closely. I turn the corner and find another camera, this one is not looking directly at me like it’s pretending not to notice me.

I have walked past the first camera I spotted at least nine times now, they must know I am here. Any minute now I am going to be thrown out, possibly even charged. I need to find some way out soon, but all the doors need a key card, so does the elevator. I have to get out, I need to- hang on, this door is different.

First thing, this door is about two centimeters into the wall unlike the other doors which stick out about half a centimeter. The door itself looks older, that it’s tattered, the paint is thin in some places, particularly beside the doorknob which is what makes the door stand out the most. The other doors have handles with a slot on top to insert your key card, this door has the most simple grey, slightly beaten knob you could think of, with a slot on the front for an average everyday key, the best part? Someone either forgot or simply did not lock it.

Whatever the reason the door was left unlocked is ultimately beyond me, what does matter is how irresponsible it is, I mean look at me. I was trying to get away from security and now I am in this cramped hallway. Wouldn't it be interesting if the reason was for convenience? Well it’s not my problem.

It looks nothing like the rest of the hotel, it’s like I walked into a completely different building. This hall is almost as narrow as the door I walked through. The walls, a basic drywall, painted with a plain eggshell colour. The floor, large evenly squared tiles, same shade as the walls. Every surface is so dirty is like looking at rotten eggs.

In my last year of high school my friends and I had planned on egging the teachers cars, except for Mr.Gardner he was cool. We had let twenty cartons of eggs sit out in the sun for a week! Then Adrien went a bragged about the plan to whoever would listen and of course Peggy Watts found out and went crying to the teachers about our plan. I wonder whatever became of them, not just my friends but Mr.Gardner and Peggy too.

I just realized, I was so wrapped up in my thoughts I was not paying attention to where I was going, lost track of where I am. I remember every few feet the hallway broke left or right into more hallways, I guess I chose whatever way looked more interesting. Eventually the walls became a maze of pipes and wires, except this wall in front of me now it’s littered with graffiti and the hallway does not break left or right, hold on there is a door frame around this wall but no door.

It’s a service elevator, I didn’t notice it at first but on the left wall on the other side of the door frame there is a number pad. Beside it is a big button with an arrow pointing to the ceiling, below that is a hole, with a pin sticking out of the center of it, I bet it originally had a big button, with an arrow pointing the opposite direction as the one above it.

I press the top button, I hear a faint click but nothing happens, I try holding it, nothing. Maybe it’s broken? I press on the pin in the hole, I hear a similar click but still nothing. Well I have cornered myself, it’s only a matter of time before someone finds me, whether it's security or maintenance makes no difference, this is the end on my journey. Might as well have a peek behind the curtain that is the hotel employees.

My first job was customer service at a chain restaurant, it was terrible and the only reason I took it was because I wanted my own car. It was in my last year of university and was tired of taking the bus, my parents were willing to pay for a lot of things while I went to university, but a car? That was a luxury in there mind. I was at that job for less than a year then I got my first accounting job and never looked back.

If there is one thing I miss about that job it would have to be the collective bitterness all the other employees had towards most of the customers in general especially the regulars, you would at least expect one of them to have been awesome to deal with, no everyone is headache in one way or another. Looks like these hotel employees agree with me.

‘I hate dealing with people’ is either carved or written at least three times on each wall, on one wall someone used permanent marker to write ‘I want to escape this hell hole’ and judging by the shape of the ‘E’ the same person wrote ‘the old management was better’ on the wall across from it. Below that someone wrote in blue pen ‘Fuck off Eric! the old management sucked’ whoever wrote that also wrote ‘dickbutt’ on the far wall, opposite the door frame. A drawing of a cartoon character I have seen circling around the internet, standing boldly on the word that names it. One person simply carved a variety of profanitys all over the place along with a carving of four numbers.

2270 I punch that into the number pad, press the big button, hear a click, the revving of an electric motor, the sensation of being hoisted upwards, concrete wall slowly covers the opening I walked into. Really? It was that easy? At no point upper management saw the elevator code exposed for the whole world to see? Who would have thought such negligence was aloud.

Because there is no door on the elevator because of that I have the pleasure of watching a moving mural of hastily written profanities I really do enjoy seeing as much of it as I can. Suddenly the elevator comes to a halt. But there is no hallway in front of me just concrete and graffiti. I try the code and button again but nothing, before the idea of being trapped enters my mind I hear a rattling behind me.

As I turn around I remember the door frame was also on the other side of the elevator. I find a small room there is a pile of copper pipes leaning against the far wall, a plethora of 2x4’s cut to random lengths, a few broken and abandoned tools and cans of paint with the lid haphazardly placed on top. One can in particular calls out to me, it’s dried soft yellow colour drips down the side of it almost compels me to remember.

I can’t or that is I don’t want to remember it’s...it’s just too much. Turning my attention to the source of the rattling I suppress the memory once again. I walk up the four steps leading to a steel door which leads to the roof of this hotel. I step outside, greeted by a heavy warm wind and pock-faced man, who looks to be about my age smoking a cigarette.

I give him a simple nod and walk further away from the door, he greets it with a long pull from his cigarette and a suspicious scowl, I can feel his glare burning into my back as I admire the sight of my city from this perspective. It’s one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen I wish I could have seen stuff like this everyday.

As I draw closer to the edge I can hear the pock-faced man shouting something, it doesn’t matter what he has to say it’s already too late. I close my eyes and continue walking and let one comfort envelope me; the truth that it’s not my fault.

@lazy-author​ @writersroses​ @willowandsnow @fightingforwriting @melodielgrace @jaimistoryteller @imawriterhelp @fictionpot @panticwritten

Sorry if I missed tagging anyone, I hope you enjoy my story and I look forward to reading everyone else. I had a lot of fun writing this. For anyone who is a little lost.

Pool party

Last day for the mtnn week! I wish I did more stuff for the fandom, but I can’t write much with exams coming up next month.

Here’s the last prompt, Identity, one I guess I’m not quite happy with how it turned out, but I still think is a good idea.

Crossover with Ansatsu Kyoshitsu. Because there’s never enough neuyako!Karma. Hinted NagisaxKarma.

Title: Pool party.

Summary: When a pool party seems like a good idea after graduation. Add a bird demon to the mix and a class full of assassins and see what happens.

***

”Are you sure that your parents won't mind?” Nagisa asked for the tenth time as they hiked the last of the path to Karma’s secondary house. He invited them to his villa on the mountains in hopes of distracting their minds from the pain and sorrow after the graduation.

Karma himself wasn't on his best right now, but his mother proposed this pool party thing to lift her son’s mood a little bit. “I want to meet your friends,” she had said, “and this Nagisa boy you talk so much about.”

While the idea of mixing her parents (and probably uncle Godai) with his classmates was a bit intense, and many many things could go bad, he had decided to use this opportunity to tell them who he really was. His father was okay with it as he said “if those brats can keep the octopus’ secret, they can keep mine”. Karma told them about Korosensei not long after meeting the infamous teacher, he could see that the rule was so the parents wouldn’t pull out their children from the school, so he told them about the assassination and his plans, and after that he told them what he was learning at school.

His mother wasn’t so keen on having her baby on a class full of violence, but as Neuro pointed out, Karma was part demon and he would need a way to burn all the extra energy. Karma didn’t feel so different than his human friends, maybe more strength and stamina, but so far zero demon flashy powers.

What a bummer.

“Nah, they’ll love to have more people on the house. Usually some family friends come to visit, but they seem to be busy right now. Mom and Dad may have to leave after a while. For work,” he explained in a neutral voice. They were leaving, again. He wished that they didn’t have to, but he understood the need for mysteries. He was at peace with the situation since a while ago, as one time he had to see his father in pretty bad shape when he was so low on energy that he had to go back to Hell for a few days.

But that didn’t mean that he liked it.

“I’m sorry,” his friend said, knowing about his issues with his parents.

“Don’t worry about it,” Karma smiled and sighed when the house finally appeared.

***

“Do you think they’ll freak out?” Yako asked while looking through the kitchen window. From there you could see the path where the kids should come out from any moment.

“I guess so,” Neuro simply said while looking at some papers. He wasn’t that interested in meeting Karma’s friends, but rolled with the situation. Maybe one of them had a mystery. Or maybe he could find something to blackmail his son.

“I think I’m a little too underdressed for this,” she continued not really caring about his answer, “I am a mother, right? Mothers don’t go around in bikinis and stuff like that.”

The demon finally looked up from his work and analyzed his worried wife. She was wearing a blue bikini with a simple floral design, a piece he remembered was a birthday gift from Kanae. Over the swimwear she had a short summer dress in a very thin fabric that allowed to see what was underneath, leaving almost nothing to the imagination. Why was she fretting so much? She had stuff to show and from what he had been able to collect about human nature, human women are usually proud to look this well past their thirties.

“I think you look gorgeous,” he whispered in her ear, earning the expected shudder and a smack that failed to hit his face.

“Neuro!” she turned, her face beautifully red in embarrassment. “Don’t start now! We are having guests very soon!”

He smirked.

“Sure.”

And he went and did exactly the opposite of what she was asking for. In a swift movement, he lifted her and seated her on the kitchen counter, her legs parted and positioned around his waist. Before she could protest, he put one gloved hand on her mouth and another one on his own lips, signaling her that she must be quiet. Yako frowned. Right now was not a good moment.

“I don’t think this is a good idea…,” she whispered looking at him right in the eyes. He didn’t seem convinced by her very convincing reasons (children coming to the house and the like), and leaned down to kiss her.

“OH MY G-” came the strangled voice of their son from the kitchen door that connected with the pool entrance. “Mom! Dad! Please, not in plain daylight!” the teenager turned around, grumbling about nasty adults.

Yako facepalmed.

“This is all your fault,” she said, glaring at Neuro.

The demon gave her back his blank stare, feigning innocence.

***

Class-E was currently chilling on the water, some sharing anecdotes of their teacher and trying not to cry, some people laughing instead of crying, other people distracting themselves talking with friends or reading by the pool.

Karma was drinking some smoothie his mother had made for everyone under the shade of an umbrella, talking with Okuda and Nagisa about what they were doing next year, when the idiot of Terasaka has to sit down and comment on his mother’s appearance. She had came out of the house a while back to greet the guests, still blushing a little, lovingly patting everyone’s heads and telling them that they could be just like it was their house. To hide her identity for the moment, they had agreed to put a black wig on her head with Akane attached; just like his father had changed his hair colour to red with the magical demon beads on the tips of his hair.

“She’s quite hot, right?” the classmate smiled and drank from his smoothie, leaning his chair back a little bit. “You had it really hidden, you bastard.”

Karma felt like breaking the man’s face.

“Yeah, I must agree with you,” the people on the table turned their faces at neck-breaking speed, finding Karma’s father chilling there like he had been seating with them the whole time, taking a sip from his son’s glass before adjusting his big sunglasses and folding his hands on top of the table. “But I think her butt looks better in green.”

Used to seeing him in his blue suit, it was weird looking at him wearing only swimming trunks and a towel over his shoulders. Karma facepalmed a little bit.

“Dad…”

“Neuro!” his mother’s voice interrupted him. “Leave the kids alone.”

“But isn’t this a pool party? I want to get into the pool with you~” the demon going undercover complained and got up to pull his wife to his chest. Now everyone was looking at them.

“Don’t start again…”

The man leaned down and whispered something on his wife’s ear that got her face completely red, igniting the imagination of the people around them. As Karma’s dad jumped into the water with the woman still in his arms, Fuwa frowned a little bit. She had said “Neuro” and if her memory was any good, that was the name of the famous detective Yako Katsuragi’s assistant. But their surname was “Akabane”... Something was definitely up.

***

As the night fell on the people having fun on the pool, dinner time came around. Food was passed around, simple hot dogs and some chips, gulped down by the hungry youngsters and a very hungry mother. Karma shot her a look reminding her that they were trying to keep a secret in the place, and she controlled herself, promising to eat everything that left in a later time.

Karma looked up to the beautiful starry sky and sighed.

“Guys,” he said in the silence as everyone was digesting their food. They looked at him, curious to see what was he going to say, Nagisa relieved that his friend decided to let out whatever was troubling him and Fuwa’s heart going a mile an hour. She loved a good mystery and maybe Karma was going to reveal something? “I have something to confess to you. This is as important as Korosensei’s secret and you must never reveal it to anyone,” he looked at every ex-classmate in front of him at the eyes, assuring that they wouldn’t put him and his family in danger. “I decided to tell you as we’ve been through a lot and maybe you deserve an explanation of… of my behaviour.”

“Are you gay, Karma?” asked Okuda softly, a sympathetic look on her eyes. “We won’t judge you.” Some people laughed tentatively, not sure if Okuda was joking or not.

“Not, that’s not it,” he said and gave his mother, who was worriedly looking through the kitchen window, a tiny nod. “You see, some of you wonder if I’m some kind of monster or inhuman being. I know I am being called a demon behind my back.” He ignored the few uncomfortable looks. “The truth is, you were not wrong!”

A tense silence fell on the former Class-E, waiting for the punchline.

“Are you being serious?” asked Nagisa beside him, slightly frowning in disbelief.

“As serious as I can be,” he answered. “In fact, I am only half demon. You see, it comes from my father’s side of the family.”

The door to the kitchen opened and Neuro came out in his full blue attire, green-ish yellow hair with dark bangs and everything, smiling and showing his pointed teeth. Beside him was Yako, now in warmer clothes as it got colder at night in the mountains, without the black wig and with a tense smile on her face.

“I want to properly introduce you to Yako Katsuragi and my father, Neuro Nogami. A demon.”

Karma knew that the gasp would come, and the surprised stares, and the frantic looks between his parents and him. But above all, one voice rose:

“YOUR MOTHER IS THE FAMOUS DETECTIVE KATSURAGI YAKO!” screamed Fuwa with a pale face. “Oh my god, I need to lie down for a bit.”

And that’s how she fainted on some guy’s arms. And while a few were staring at the very famous woman in front of them, mouth open in surprise, the rest were eyeing the demon as if trying to find anything different in him with this new information. He didn’t look demon-y at all, if you ignored a survival instinct deep inside, and few frowned not buying it.

It’s true that their sensei wasn’t exactly human, but he was a science experiment. To accept that such thing as a demon could be real…?

“Dad, do your thing.”

“Sure,” they heard his deep voice before a flurry of magenta feathers filled the space between the parents and them, making the teenagers cover their eyes to avoid losing them in the process.

When they opened them, beside Karma’s mom was... a parrot. A very big parrot, like the size of a pick-up truck, with enormous horns on top of its head and vicious-looking sharp teeth on its beak. Was this the true face of their ex-classmate’s father? It was no surprise that he had taken Korosensei’s looks without blinking.

And now everything made more sense: Karma’s superior abilities, his intelligence, his unusual behaviour and even the origin of his name, as it was widely known that Yako Katsuragi and her assistant traveled a lot around the world, solving numerous cases.

“I guess I can’t be surprised about it. You never were a normal human anyways,” Nagisa said to his friend, patting him softly on the back, both knowing what he meant by those words.

Unknown to both boys, Yako was watching them with a glint in her eyes. So this was the Nagisa boy that her son has been talking so much about, huh? She wanted to know him more, as she was sure that looks could be deceiving and he looked way too innocent to be the beast her son said he was; but if the blue haired teenager was able to keep up with Karma, then he was automatically approved.

She glanced at her currently-turned-parrot husband, finding him looking at those kids with the same calculating eyes he had when in front of a succulent mystery. He then looked at her and she swore he smiled with his eyes. He was thinking the exact same thing, she was sure of it.

Oh boy. If there was one thing that both parents would always agree with was bullying their own son from now and then, and more specifically, messing with his love life.

Abstract Game - Tile-emma

MEMBERS: ANGELO, CONNOR, PETE, LOUIS, LOUIE

Written by Angelo Argyrides

SUMMARY OF TILE-EMMA

Tile-emma is an abstract game with a player count is for 2-4 players. Everyone is pitted against each other, trying their best to outsmart their opponent(s) in multiple ways. This all takes place on a 13x13 grid, which can get very congested.

Rules of Play

Choose a jewel pack! Once all players have picked a jewel pack, they have to get ready to start from their specific corner of the playing grid. This is colour co-ordinated, for example if you have the red jewel pack your starting point would be the red corner.

Your jewel pieces can only make contact with each other at the corners. This means that the faces of your tile pieces may never touch, however it is fine if they are making contact with the faces of other player’s tile pieces.

Looking over the playing grid something may stand out to you, in the middle of the grid a cross of shaded spaces can be found. The purpose of these is to add an extra layer to the game! If one of your jewel pieces is over a shaded space on the cross, that piece has the ability to literally ‘stack’ over another player’s jewel piece nearby, which may be placed on a plain space. This allows for players to get to places on the playing grid which they may not have been able to get to without stacking. This comes in really handy at the end stages of the a game, as there will be plenty of these small spaces dotted around the grid! Finally, one other great use of stacking is that you can also use it to stop opponents from putting their tiles in a certain area of the playing grid, generating more opportunity to use more of your own jewel pieces!

Objective

Now that you know the basic premise on how to play tile-emma you need to know how to win!  The objective of the game is simple, as a player you need to try and use as many of your jewel tiles as you can by placing them on the playing grid. However, in certain circumstances you may not be able to use all of the tiles in your jewel pack. As the game proceeds, the grid fills up - meaning that placing your pieces down starts to become more and more of a challenge.

To win, be the player who has the least tiles left, or the first to get rid of them all!

MATERIALS LIST

13x13 Playing Grid

Rule Sheet

Red Oval Jewel Pack (17 Jewel Tiles inside)

Green Diamond Jewel Pack (17 Jewel Tiles inside)

Blue Rectangle Jewel Pack (17 Jewel Tiles inside)

Yellow Triangle Jewel Pack (17 Jewel Tiles inside)

 DESIGN STATEMENT

This abstract game went through many changes and iterations before it got to the point seen today. I would just like to outline a lot of the problems that I came across during development, and how they were solved. The first challenge I encountered was to develop a fun idea. I liked the thought of having mechanics that are easy to understand, yet hard to master (in terms of strategies). I was playing about with various ideas, such as a three dimensional Connect 4, however it was not that original. I then settled on a basic premise now known as “Tile-emma”, where 2-4 players have to try and use as many of their playing pieces (jewel tiles) in a restricted space.

The general scale of the game was yet another challenge I faced. The initial aim for the game was for it to be quite mobile, therefore I was looking for it to be quite compact in terms of size. So when it came to developing a playing grid I looked at making each of the spaces 1cm3. Once I had this 13x13 grid in front of me, I realised that when it comes to developing the jewel pieces they would be relatively small, probably hard to place on the grid and also very easy to lose. With this realisation in mind, I backtracked a bit and decided to double the board size, changing a 13x13 grid from a size of 13cm x 13cm, to sizes of 26cm x 26xm. This may have made the scale of the game twice as large but it made a world of a difference.

Fast-tracking forward a bit, the jewel pieces was my next obstacle to handle. What I found easy about this part was finding four bright colours that can easily be told apart to represent each player - red, green, blue, yellow. Whereas something that wasn't easy to handle was the idea of having a variety of various jewel pieces, so that when it came to playing the game the player could take any path in whatever way they like. On the other hand though there had to be enough pieces so that when only 2 players play, they can explore the entirety of the grid without running out of space. My aim ended up as trying to give each player a variety of pieces, ending up at a total of 17 per player. These sets of 17 are broken down to three “L”, three “S”, three “I”, three “T” and five singular pieces. Overall this gives each player plenty of opportunity to take up space and move across the board how they want.

Now that I had the game idea set in concrete, with some early prototypes of a game board and player pieces, some playtesting needed to be done. Through testing the game people thoroughly enjoyed the idea and that there was the option for 2-4 players to play, however two main bits of feedback came out of it. Firstly as the prototype was paper, a whole game could be ruined if someone were to nudge the board slightly or sneeze, which would scatter the pieces everywhere. The second thing was that every play session was quite short, therefore I should either adjust  the size of the board according to how many people are playing, or add some sort of mechanic which adds another layer to gameplay.

To address the set of feedback gathered through playtesting, things were altered in a few ways. First of all, I doubled up the playing grid and every jewel piece so that they were all twice as thick. This helped add a bit more weight to the game as a whole, which makes them less likely to be ruined. The actual packs that contain each set of jewel pieces were a welcomed addition too, as they help contain the jewel pieces, preventing them from being lost between play sessions. Side note: Some visual aid was also added onto the back of each pack, telling you how many of every piece should be inside.

Handling the latter issue was probably the most challenging part of development for Tile-emma. I knew that I needed to add a certain mechanic/change the game in a certain way to add a bit more longevity, however this would come at a cost. As you add more and more things to an already simplistic idea, two things happen. It turns from being quite simple to a bit more complicated, also adding more problems to iron out on top of that. So, instead of me adding more physical assets, I thought of introducing something that made use of the resources already established in the game. I knew that the grid had to be a bit more varied, therefore I included a cross of shaded spaces to the middle of the playing grid, then came up with an idea around that.  It started out as an idea that you could somehow remove an opponent's jewel piece if your piece goes over a shaded space on the grid, however that would end up being a case of also removing any other of the opponents pieces that made contact with the corners of the one recently removed. This would continuously happen to everyone playing too, which would end up extending play sessions to tedious amounts. The other solution I came up with (and settled on) was the thought of ‘stacking’ over opponents pieces. This stacking mechanic started off as having a seperate jewel pack that players would use if they placed a piece over a shaded space, granting them one of these pieces that would go over any other. However, one thing that came to mind was that to win a game of Tile-emma you need to either use up the most pieces out of everyone, or be the first to use all of the pieces in your jewel pack. This meant that by adding more pieces for the stacking mechanic would be contradictory to the objective of the game. Conclusively, this influenced what the ‘stacking’ feature is today - if one of your pieces is on a shaded space it can then stack over opponents pieces nearby, giving greater opportunity to place jewel pieces in small spaces on the grid.

Pictures from Tile-emma

Find below five various images from what Tile-emma looks like at various points during play, and also what the game assets look like.

What the playing grid looks like and the Jewel Packs.

The red jewel pack along with its contents.

Mid-game picture of 2 players playing Tile-emma, there are two cases of the stacking mechanic being used...

Here you see a green jewel piece stacking over a blue one.

In this image you see how the player has stacked their blue jewel piece over a green one to get to the open space on the playing grid.

Busy with Blender

Thanks to Grant Abbitt’s tutorials on YT (https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCZFUrFoqvqlN8seaAeEwjlw) tutorials, I’ve picked up a few quick skills. Until he makes the part 4 of the tutorial with the texture painting, I decided to hit WoW and made a few screenshot about objects and houses and tried to make them in Blender.

First attempt: Barrel and cart:

I really liked this one, despite the fact that it’s super low poly, it is quite obvious what it is and even with basic shading, it looks very good.

2nd Attempt: House in Evelynn forest:

and the reference screenshots:

It had some very strange angles The house normally would just straight up but as they made this “cartoonish” in WoW they distorted the house from the sides:

Also it was not super obvious how the walls go. I think they are double sided planes, not actual geometry, at least around the windows for sure. I don’t know how to do that yet. Also as I was studying the structure from all sides, I noticed a few optimizations as well. The geometry was not really obvious, since the texture painting created a lot of “illusion” geometry, it was hard to tell what is shape, and what is texture painting sometimes.

In any case, it was a good exercise and it kept me pumped so I ended u modelling a few more things in Blender:

A signpost:

and a bed scene:

Without texture painting these all look a bit plain, but I think I make good progress in understanding and creating simple models.

I also bought Portia on PS since it was reduced price. I thought it’ll be different but after playing it for a day, I can’t say I’ve seen a more snowflake friendly game in my life. There’s absolutely no conflict in it in a meaningful way. Everyone is nice, the weather is pretty, whatever you are tasked to do is super easy, the whole game feels like a safe place simulator..

Regardless, I bought it because of the art style. It was quite OK, although the lack of texture painting results in a very low quality models some places. I’m positive I could make 60-70% of the models I’ve seen so far. I don’t know about the programming aspect or game systems just talking about models of houses, walls generic objects around the world etc. Some are surprisingly badly made for a fully released product, but it was quite consistent in execution. If nothing else, the game gave some hope that I can make a game one day, since if they could release and sell this quality of assets, it is absolutely doable to make something with similar quality (or better) solo.

The more I dig into game making, the bigger the task seems to be, but so far I’ve not seen anything I couldn’t solve (maybe bunny fur on the “official” blender Udemy tutorial, but that’s useless anyways.). Models can be made with blender. repetition and level design can be learned from WoW, and how they re-use parts of their models and textures to build variety in the scenes without actually making new models. Sound design and music theory can be learned from Udemy tutorials and programs like FL studio or that strange midi generator can make music. Concept art and drawing can be learned, I bought a complete drawing tutorial on Udemy as well. Eventually I will be able to make models, concept art and music. Animation I have a book on that I can read. UE4 I have a complete course as well as an UE RPG course as well. All I need is just the game idea and execution. After seeing some ideas I still have more idea on what I don’t want to do than what I do want to make. I liked the wider game design of Portia, but that conflict-less blank characters are just creeping me out. I liked the huge sunsets and the ancient ruins on the horizon, I like how bright the game is, although it does terribly miss dark areas and creepy, evil places etc. As I played Portia, all I thought was maan, this is TOO cheerful, this is TOO happy. This game is like Stardew Valley on drugs for overly sensitive people. For those who cannot deal with conflicts so they need their game too to be without real confrontation. Portia surely doesn’t follow the typical “Hero’s journey” since there’s nothing heroic in it. nothing to overcome or learn from, nothing to challenge. FFS the first dungeon doesn’t even have enemies and the game is proudly presenting it as a safe place to explore. I expected some reaction from the bus driver when I started axing the rainbow lamas everyone was just watching cheerfully as those nightmare monsters went off with a puff and dropping a nicely folded leather.

I definitely don’t want to do that. I want extraordinary creatures like in FF and PoGo, I’ll probably want companions like pets etc.

About what the game would be.. Probably a journey with many easter eggs and side quests. Something where decisions shape a world state, Regions are similar size as WoW areas with similarly packed with small towns, areas of interest etc. Something that can be explored, and quests would lead to the next areas. Player can choose where to go from similarly hard areas.

I do want some form of building in the game and regarding that I had the idea of a player building their house, either as freeform building like in Conan exiles or upgrade it and have fixed attachments added to it like Skyrim or WoW garrisons. I can restrict the building area in each region and the player can cast a spell to “pick up” their house and move it to the next area or build more and travel between them. Like in NMS. NMS building system is good, just the building pieces are not good enough.. All the buildings look like cubes.

Both building systems (upgrade with fix pieces or free building from parts) have its charms. Pre-made parts probably easier to make. I potentially would like to end up with a “howl’s moving castle like monstrosity where towers and planks are sticking out. The pre-made and upgrade system can also be combined with shelves and furniture so people can customize it. I do enjoy free building better though, free building is one of the cornerstones of Conan exiles, without it I’d probably not played it for this long. The idea that you can just set up shop anywhere on the gigantic map and build a massive base, castle, whatever you want is pure imagination. You see a place or a cliff side and you have an idea what could look good there. Or you just settle on a random place and follow along what the world gives you, build inside a cliff side, or set walls along the vulnerable openings. You can climb a mountain to get a good vista or a cool sunset and start building there. Originally I wanted something like that, but I admit I have no idea how to make it work well. It works for Conan because it barely has a story. remove the bracelet, fill the shopping list and no ending.

The problem with Conan’s ending is that it’s non-existent and I realize now that it was a conscious choice. During my first play-though I thought it makes no sense to remove the bracelet. By the time you can do it you are king of the world, you have a palace, you have an army of thralls, you have many beasts following you, you own an oasis, you conquered all bosses and enemies in the game. And you cannot die. Why would you want to remove the bracelet and become mortal again and walk into the desert? So it makes sense that the developers don’t want you to finish the game. 80% of Conan exiles is building. it’s not about finishing the story. This is a strange relationship between what the game tells you and what it is actively trying to force you to do. By story they want you to remove the bracelet, but every game elements wants you to stay and keep building on new locations. Conan exiles still pulls me back occasionally just purely to build and make a new base. There’s nothing in terms of story in the game for me, I’ve seen every corner of it, yet when new building pieces came out, I feel encouraged to go back and build a new base because  of the free form building.

Things that can make a game infinite:

- Random levels to play on (Diablo’s Rifts)

- Free building where you can build any house you want (Conan exiles)

- Character customization (Maple story 2)

- Free form crafting (Paper life)

The problem with these is the more random a game gets, the harder it is to write a consistent and freely explorable story to it. The more random the game is, the more possibilities are for the player to miss / skip story either by accident or by simply going towards something that is more interesting on the map. You can either write a main story arc or small hubs with mini stories perhaps? Maybe you can have mandatory quests and optional quests as in other games.

What I aimed for at the very beginning was 2 states for each areas. For example you have a woodland forest, and depending on your actions it will be a trade hub because you made it safe or a bandit hub if you selected certain choices. This can result a “World state” that can be used for New Game +. You go through the game, make your choices, and that results a world that has less or more problems. When you finish, you have the choice to restart, but the world is in the state you left it. If you left the woodland that became a trade hub, in NG+ you find a rich area that have a set of problems coming from being rich (eg attacked by bandits). If you left the area in the main play through as a bandit hub, you have quests to liberate it or profit off it etc. Liberating the bandit hub results a trade hub, neglecting or exploiting a trade hub results a bandit hub. If all areas have 2 states, you can play through the game at least 2 times.  

Character Critiques - Venonat Family

Two adorable bugs in a row?!

How has Game Freak managed to steal my heart so well with bugs? I’m someone who can admire insects, but overall feel rather squeamish around them.

But once again, Venonat is another one of those Pokémon I would be willing to hug… so long as I don’t think about the fact it can toss around Poison Powder. Game Freak really loved to attach the Poison typing to their early insects without going into detail as to why.

Venonat’s cuteness comes from the fact it’s 99% fluff. Just a big, fuzzy ball of fur on tiny legs. Personally, I find its compounded eyes don’t actually sour its adorableness. I love that Game Freak went with an anatomically realistic approach, but with a pleasant cartoony spin.

While I’m still talking about what makes Venonat cute, I want to bring up the smaller details I feel are icing on the cake. I adore its impractically small hands and giant antennae. I love that only three simple shapes comprise its mandibles and make them look far cuter than they should be.

And I can’t get enough of its color pallette. That purple is among the most royal and gorgeous shades my eyes can interpret. All the other colors that comprise Venonat’s pallette are positively satisfying to look at.

It’s a shame that Venonat’s Pokédex entries are nowhere as extensive as my fangirling over its appearances. Aside from its eyes being able to shoot laser beams, it lives out a relatively normal existence hunting

insects.

However, that detail - or lack thereof - is something I find curious. The Pokédex doesn’t allude to any particular Pokémon that Venonat hunts after. It only hunts “insects.” Does it mean Venonat hunts any Bug-type Pokémon it can lay its mandibles on? Does that mean Pokémon live amongst regular, non-magical animals (similar to what the Animé did)?

Or am I just overthinking everything again and reading too much into biographies the size of Twitter posts?

Whatever the case, Venonat is a fluffy darling too precious for this world.

Venonat’s half-Poison typing becomes apparent once it becomes Venomoth, a giant moth that scatters deadly toxins with every flap of its wings.

But where did my little Venonat go? It doesn’t keep the large antennae, any of its fuzzy fur, or even the awesome red eyes. A giant moth monster is a given to have as a Pokémon, and I’m not against Venonat changing from one species of insect into another (besides, Game Freak likes to do that a lot anyways). Purely on the design level, I feel Venomoth comes completely out of left field.

Actually, remember in a previous article when I commented that Butterfree and Venonat seem to have the same face? It’s uncanny how many traits those two unrelated species share.

Was Butterfree meant to be Venomoth, but got switched at some point in development? It’s been a fan speculation for many years, but no information has ever been found to crack the mystery. For all we know, there isn’t even a mystery to begin with. Two similar-looking things don’t have to be connected to each other.

Even with the previous in mind, I still want to whine that Venomoth doesn’t fit as Venonat’s evolution. Can’t please everyone, I guess.

By itself, Venomoth isn’t an awful design, but it’s also easy for me to forget about. Since we’ve already looked at other flying insects like Butterfree and Beedrill, Venomoth just doesn’t feel as impressive. It’s not an absolutely “Plain Jane” design, but it’s also not rocking the boat and being terribly exciting, either.

Actually, reading its Pokédex entries only disappoints me that Game Freak didn’t take Venomoth’s design further. Apparently, the scales on Venomoth’s wings can change color to reflect what kind of toxin it’s producing. According to Silver Version, they’re a darker hue for poison, while lighter for paralysis.

This information opens up some interesting ideas. What if Venomoth’s typing was based on the color of its wings? Either each Venomoth form is static (like East/West Shellos and Gastrodon), or it could have an ability that changes its type on the fly while in battle. Why limit Venomoth’s scales to scattering just poison or paralysis? What if it could also use a burn-inducing powder?

If Venomoth still had Venonat’s laser-shooting eyes, what if it scattered its powder around and then shot at them to split the lasers into MORE lasers, like a prism does to a ray of light? What if that attack also had a 20-30% chance to apply a random status effect on the target Pokémon (poison, burn, paralysis, sleep, etc)? Heck, make this attack hit the entire battle field in a giant laser explosion, putting all other targets at risk for a random status condition.

(UGH, I really can't draw explosions...)

I hate when I ramble off ideas like that, because it makes me wish that Venomoth was so much more than it actually is.

Venomoth’s design isn’t terrible, but it plays it safe, and that’s what disappoints me. I wanted Venonat to evolve into something that’d knock my socks off.

The Best Sources for Affordable Healthy Food

Well hello there, Mint household. Welcome to the first installment of this incredibly interesting collaboration between Mint and also Root + Revel!

Before we study today's post, how about a little fulfill and also welcome? Hi! I'm Kate Kordsmeier, the owner of Origin + Revel, a food and health blog aiding individuals strike the equilibrium in between excellent and good for you.

I'm a permanent food author for publications, a recipe designer, and blog owner. I'm likewise living proof that food is medicine (check out my tale to find out even more!). My major message is: Food Heals! That doesn't need to suggest bland poultry and fit to be tied broccoli. Preference is paramount as well as we take it back to fundamentals, instilling charm, taste and event right into everyday life, helping you live naturally, without sacrifice.

That being stated, I'm the first to admit that healthy, health food is expensive. Plain and simple. Even if you support natural farming as well as pasture-raised/grass-fed/wild-caught growing approaches, they just cost even more loan compared to their standard counterparts.

But that doesn't suggest you need to pay out heaps of cash money every single time you begged Whole Foods. Why I've teamed up with Mint to splash all my budget-friendly, healthy eating secrets.

The Cost of Eating Healthy

Here's the point: whether you pay a bit a lot more upfront to nurture your body with healthy and balanced food, or you save loan by filling your stubborn belly with factory-farmed meat, pesticide-laden GMO fruit and vegetables and refined junk filled with fabricated shades, preservatives and various other hazardous chemicals, it's possible you're going to pay for it one way or an additional. And also I prefer to not do it later in the form of clinical expenses. Let's pay our farmer prior to our doctor.

Let's think large picture, long-term, full story, due to the fact that eating unhealthy food will certainly cost you much, a lot more in the long run. And, as it ends up, eating healthy and balanced, organic food actually does not have to be insane pricey. It IS possible to eat healthy on a budget.

To wit, here are the very best sources for budget friendly, healthy food:

Buy Straight From Your Local Farmer

There are many savings to be carried healthy and balanced food when you go right to the source. Consider it-- not just are you cutting out the intermediary, however the food isn't being delivered in from throughout the nation (read: no transport sets you back added right into the price). Cheaper AND much more nutrient-dense and tasty, as the food is fresher, too.

And if that weren't enough, when you acquire straight, you can ask the farmer concerns concerning their expanding practices (Are they natural? Are their animals turf fed and free variety? Do they utilize sustainable techniques to maintain the setting?), guaranteeing you obtain exactly what you want and also you understand precisely where your food came from.

Not certain where to locate farms near you? Just head to your regional farmer's market, or discover one near you through LocalHarvest.org or the USDA. Similarly, you can sign up with a CSA (Community Supported Farming), which delivers boxes of fresh, locally-grown fruit and vegetables from small, family ranches ideal to your doorstep. Sometimes wellness insurance policy companies will even repay the cost CSA memberships.

A few insider tips: When you create an individual relationship with farmers, you could typically negotiate prices with them. You can get in bulk (i.e. buy a quarter of a cow as well as ice up the meat until you're all set to use it) to save also much more. You could additionally save at the farmer's market later on in the day when costs obtain lowered to get rid of whatever prior to the farmers go home.

Shop Online for Healthy Food

There are loads of healthy e-tailers providing actual food online-- also better, you can shop from your PJ's on the couch.

One of my individual favorites for non-perishable food is Thrive Market-- a Costco-meets-Amazon-meets-Whole Foods resource selling healthy and balanced, non-toxic foods and items at wholesale costs. Virtually whatever they sell is the lowest rate I have actually seen, and they're constantly offering customers totally free presents of full-size products as well as large coupon codes to save a lot more money.

Another money-saving fave is Amazon.com Subscribe and also Save, where I stock up on healthy and balanced favorites like organic coconut milk, cacao powder, flax seeds, chia seeds, spices and also protein bars. Amazon.com Fresh also provides some great bargains, and they supply within 2 hours right to your house!

There are likewise great deals of extraordinary business delivering icy natural, lasting and also grass-fed meat as well as wild-caught fish and shellfish right to your front door. A few of my faves consist of Butcher Box, U.S. Health Meats and Important Selection Seafood. These services frequently have sales, discount rate codes and usually budget-friendly costs on premium food.

A few insider tips: Do not forget when you shop on-line you can use cash back sites and frequent flier purchasing websites to supercharge your financial savings. Some of my favorites consist of Retailmenot.com, Ebates.com, Joinhoney.com, EVReward.com, ChaseUltimateRewards.com and Dealspotr.com.

Use a Meal Package Shipment Service

One of the biggest expenditures any type of home cook has is certainly waste. Most of us have the very best of intents when we stockpile at the grocery store, however we usually finish up discarding something due to the fact that it went negative before we might utilize it, or we purchased excessive, or we were too worn out to cook that night. This isn't really just inefficient, it's expensive-- think of just how much money you might've conserved if you in fact used every little thing you bought!

Fortunately, there is a remedy to this problem: meal set distribution services. These companies send you precisely just what you need, so you're not purchasing obscure or unusual components you'll just utilize as soon as, or perhaps simply much more food compared to you'll need as a whole. The components are also all pre-measured, so along with much less waste, you'll likewise have an easier cleanup.

The finest healthier meal kit shipment solution I've attempted is Sunlight Basket, which provides natural, gourmet, fresh recipe boxes, including Vegan, Gluten-Free and Paleo meals, in green, recyclable packaging.

For more suggestions on exactly how to conserve cash and also eat healthy, see Origin + Revel.

Coming up

In my following write-up, I am going to chat concerning how DIY'ing your personal charm and also cleaning items could conserve you heaps of cash money, lower the contaminants in your residence and body As Well As save the environment (psst: did I state it's also very easy and also fun?!).

Be certain to adhere to along on Mint as well as follow me on Instagram @rootandrevel, so you don't miss out on a solitary healthy living tip.